Twilight Sparkle stood proudly on a balcony overlooking the new plaza five stories below it. The plaza was located at the foot of Seed One, and was a mosaic of their journey from Equis to Avalon. Almost half of the entire population stood there, looking up at her with anticipation. A few camera drones floated a short distance away from Twilight to give others who couldn’t attend a chance to listen in. A storm was rolling in from the sea as well; dark clouds roiled above the harbor. The dark, windblown clouds created a strange dichotomy with the bright, cloudless sky above the colony.
Standing at her sides was Praxia on the right and Prism on the left. While Praxia was in her clinically professional mood and stance as always. Prism had taken up styling her mane to draw attention to her horn. Unlike her changeling friend, Prism was practically bouncing on her hooves, and was scanning the crowd looking for Silver or her fellow Pathfinders, Firefly and Ruby. The latter so she could give a smug flourish with her horn, public spectacle be damned.
“Fillies and gentlecolts,” Twilight began with that same motherly smile Celestia used so often in her childhood. “We came to this world because we refused to go quietly into the night with our stricken star. Through equine resilience and force of will, we have endured everything thrown at us thus far. The sacrifices our soldiers have made have been many and honorable. The new mothers and fathers of the colony have no less a difficult task… I should know.”
The joke may have garnered a few polite laughs, but not one pony could see it as anything other than a warning coming from Twilight of all ponies. Not even Prism Flash was willing to crack a smile.
“This world, our Avalon, is a harsh one, the Everfree Forest on a global scale. Nevertheless, we are here, and just like the Equestria of old, we will bend this planet to our design. I know some of you worry about the mandated gene therapies. It was a necessary step, I assure you, to better our chances of survival. I know of many deaths and close calls that happened because we could not breathe the atmosphere. But make no mistake, I am not goose-stepping our way into being assimilated into this world, to allow us to be the tamed. Just as our ancestors tilled the soil, bent the very ley lines themselves, and of course, commanded the weather…” Twilight turned towards the storm and waved her hoof.
Well over twenty pegasi had been waiting along the periphery of the colony’s immediate airspace. Due to Avalon’s clouds being much higher than their homeworld, each of them wore respirators and had thermal enchanted clothing. At her signal, the weather team went right to work busting up or diverting the storm. It would take almost a week to tame this storm cell alone, but all Twilight was going for was immediately noticeable action. Something the colorful contrails the pegasi left behind helped with immeasurably. “We will be the masters of this world!” Twilight briefly adopted a humored grin. “Well, outside of the Dominion, that is. And if the Minotaurs didn’t get lost along the way.”
A few ponies gave off genuine chuckles with a good deal of approval ringing out on the net.
“To those who think my brush with death last year may have cowed me, or the continued hibernation of our venerable dragon commander, I can finally declare our outpost crawler is complete and ready to go! Let actions speak for themselves.”
Off in the distance, just past the river, the cranes and scaffolding encasing the mammoth, building sized crawler had been pulling away since before the speech had begun. Now with Twilight’s signal, the house-sized hover engines grumbled to life and the mobile town lumbered forward a few meters off the ground as anti-gravity spells took effect. The stadium sized holographic coat of arms of House Sparkle materialized above it. The heraldry had been slightly modified to include a stylized version of Avalon behind Twilight’s cutie mark. In addition, the five stars of her cutie mark had been replaced by the symbols of the five pony tribes. This attracted more cheering from the crowds, both in the real world and in cyberspace ringing in her ear.
“This is but a prelude, my little ponies! We have claimed so much land, we need only to fill it. To that end, I am pleased to announce that mere survival is no longer our primary concern. Our brave colts in blue have recently declared our goal of a monster exclusion zone is complete, and through all of our hard efforts, we have the infrastructure and automation in place to support a population ten times what we have now.”
Twilight paused for a long moment to gauge the crowd. The multitude of cameras and posted keywords from the net gave her a good picture. Almost to the last, her subjects had a mix of tired yet proud faces. Each of them, be it blue collar or white, had earned their bread.
“Expansion is our new watchword. Our earlier breeding incentive were a good start, but we are less than two thousand adults strong, due in no small part on this planet’s determination to cow us into submission. Regardless, We have claimed dominion over sixteen million square kilometers, and none of us needs a doctorate in mathematics to see how this could present a problem. Since it was Regent Praxia who spearheaded this next incentive, I will allow her to speak on this matter first.”
By the time Praxia had started droning on about plans for the next major population boom, Prism had already tuned her out. She was still standing at the balcony, of course, but she knew she was only there for appearances. She had no part in any of the speeches, only to stand in solidarity as the new alicorn. Since she couldn’t find her fellow pathfinders in the crowds, she was far more interested in training herself in the use of her horn.
Prism could use a simple eye-horn coordination exercise as freely offered to young children or used by therapy professionals, but that wouldn’t do for Prism, oh no. Prism got it in her head to play the shooter game World War Griffin. She had mastered the game before Seed One ever launched, but it was a whole different experience playing it with only a horn. Prism’s personal display projected the game as a mostly transparent filter, allowing her to barely see the world beyond. Presently, her pegasus character was riding in a shaky aerial transport closing in on the griffin city of Briarstone. The drone of the engines were occasionally broken by distant anti-air fire. Looking around, she saw her character was queued in a line along the right side of the large transport with all the other pegasi or bat ponies, while a few unicorns and earth ponies stood on the left with parachutes.
Only one pegasus was walking freely, the ranking officer and her personal hero: her father, Captain Flintlock. Even though Prism had played this mission hundreds of times, seeing her father alive and well never got old. As the aircraft neared the landing zone, the red condition light winked yellow. More than a few ponies jumped at the change, so many of them wore the rank of recruits fresh out of boot camp.
Prism watched as Flintlock stopped next to a mare directly in front of Prism who was quaking in her boots and trying her damnedest to keep from outright bawling out of fear.
Flintlock opened a channel to the whole platoon as he gently clapped a hoof on the mare’s shoulder, an act Prism so dearly wished had been her.
“Save your tears,” he began singing strong and loud over the engines. The mare looked at her captain with a mix of fear and awe. “For the day,” he continued before looking for more ponies who were quavering. “When our pain is far behind.”
The scant few scarred veterans in the unit went lockstep and stomped their hooves once as Flintlock met as many eyes as he had time for. “On your hooves, come with me.”
Prism gently stomped a hoof as hard as she dared and mouthed his battlesong. “We are soldiers, stand or die.”
The yellow light started to blink slowly, and Flintlock returned his gaze back to the original mare. “Save your fears.” The mare seemed to take strength, and her shaking seemed to blend in with the rattle of the aircraft as they approached the anti-air fire. “Take your place,” he sang out at everyone. More of the recruits joined Prism in standing more resolute. “Save them for the judgement day.” Flintlock nodded in pride, an act that was aimed more at the player: Prism. “Fast and free.” Warmth spread through her chest at seeing her father seemingly acknowledge her directly. “Follow me.” He started walking towards the back of the plane. “Time to make the sacrifice.” The yellow blinking sped up rapidly.
Flintlock got into position at the front of the drop ramp. “We rise or fall!” The instant his song ended, the rear hatch fell away and he jumped through. With a great warcry, the rest of the ponies bolted for the ramp with Prism just as eager to follow now as she had been the first time she played the mission.
She mouthed her character’s reply almost to the letter, “I got your back, daddy!”
A few seconds into the charge into the air, Prism felt a small but intense point of heat on the side of her face run up to the edge of her eye. It felt more like a bug bite, making Prism slap her face. Before she could pull her hoof back to see if she had caught the bugger, she spotted a blinking text message from her mother superimposing itself over the war-torn skies. Uh oh. She risked a glance at her mother, absently banishing the game. There was no outward indication Twilight had done anything, but Prism was getting suspicious that the heat sting was a spell to evaporate a tear.
With Praxia still giving her speech, Prism dreaded reading the text message. “Is there a reason you’re playing WWG in the middle of the state of the nation address?! Seriously, Little Wing!”
Through it all, Twilight maintained her regal, friendly gaze at the crowd below. Prism, however, fidgeted on her hooves, her tail swishing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s a moving speech.” She hoped her mother was too busy maintaining appearances to catch or even remember the lie.
“Girl, you forgot to set your Vapor account to offline mode. Everypony could see you were gaming in the middle of the address! Shut it off!”
“Yes, ma’am.” Prism did her best to keep from cringing under her mother’s presence. The plethora of whispers she was getting online about her little game session from the general public wasn’t helping. Bah, this wouldn’t have happened if she actually gave me a part to speak.
After the address concluded, the internet exploded in a scandal revolving around Prism, a fact none of the most powerful mares in the colony were ignorant of. Praxia was skimming the more prominent chat logs, while giving Prism an entirely unamused look. “Well then, apparently most ponies believe you were moved to tears because of the call to have even soldiers and Pathfinders participate in the next stage of population expansion. So you—”
Prism went bug-eyed for a moment. “Wait, what? Why are we that desperate for more foals?!”
“I’ll get to that in a moment,” Twilight cut in sharply with a scowl. “What possessed you to play games in the middle of the address?! Especially one that got you emotional!”
Prism gruffed and flicked a wing irritably. “Because I was bored! You tell me I have to go sit and be pretty to show everypony we alicorns are united when that shouldn’t even be a blip on the question radar, but you don’t even give me a part to speak!”
“You want a part in the next speech don’t you?” Twilight countered with faux anger.
“Don’t even start with all that chessmastering!” Prism warned with a wag of her other wing. “I know that’s a segue into giving me more of a princess role. I’ve got forever to decide when I want to do that, and it ain’t now.”
Twilight huffed, but let the push drop. “Fine, you’re going to have your hooves full with escort duty for a good while anyway. As for your punishment for making a fool of yourself…” Twilight turned to face away from Prism to think.
The pregnant pause gave Prism time to imagine some sinister retribution, making her ears fall flat and her tail twitch nervously.
Praxia took on a smirk and flew into a hover next to Twilight so the two could scheme together, and to make a show of it in the process. For a solid minute, the two devious mares let Prism sweat and stew in her own thoughts until at last they turned around. Twilight gave her daughter a dark grin. “As it turns out, the net has proven to be far worse than either of us were willing to pull off.” Twilight allowed Praxia to continue since it was her section of the address that was scandalized.
“There have been a myriad of online forums puzzling about what your short lived cry was all about.” Praxia moved her hoof about in thin air, acting as if she were selecting something. “How about this one. It seems several ponies think the speech struck a chord regarding your unannounced plans to step down from the Pathfinders and start your political career alongside Sensei.” Seeing Prism’s stunned silence as an excuse to elaborate, Praxia continued on while making a show with her hoof to act like she was typing on a keyboard while really typing via her horn. “I think I’ll just drop one of those ‘I can neither confirm nor deny’ statements on that thread.” Praxia acted as if she hit the ‘post comment’ button with a hoof. “I think that would make us even.”
Recollecting her wits, Prism saw her mother was hard at work trying not to go bug-eyed at Praxia. “Whoa, hold on one damn second. I am not leaving the Pathfinders! I’ve told that to everypony who cares. Who started saying crap like that?”
“Ruby Quartz,” Praxia replied offhandedly. “She’s using an alias, but Voyager’s been quite helpful in giving me her name.”
Prism’s personal display started to explode with questions regarding what her ultimate role in the government would be. It was getting so bad so fast that Voyager had to step in and clear up Prism’s display before she went blind. “M-mom! Come on, can’t you stop this?! I’m going to get nagged by just about everypony thinking I’m going to be the new Luna!”
Twilight had to remember to close her mouth for a moment. “Prism, dear, maybe you should see this as a opportunity. The life of a ruler is a rewarding one.” Prism stared at her, sunken shoulders and a withered face that spoke of anguish. “Besides, Ruby is more than qualified to scout for the crawler.”
Praxia closed her display and nodded in agreement.. “You know, Sensei, I just had an idea. Why not let Prism train to be the outpost governor. That would be a perfect learning experience for the future.”
Prism started rubbing her head as a headache threatened to take root. “Praxia, you are so dead after I fix this! I told you guys I had no plans to be a ruler like that! Just - just don’t say another word about this on the net until I can fix this.”
“How do you plan to do that, Little Wing?” Twilight asked with a touch of worry.
“First, I’m going to deck Ruby upside the head and get her to stop posting junk like this. Then make her admit to everypony this was just her talking out of her ass!”
Praxia sighed her obvious exasperation. “Can you at least limit your physical persuasion to that single punch? It would look bad if you clobbered somepony on your first day of official rulership.”
Prism growled at Praxia, but found no desire in the changeling’s face to undo her part in this debacle. She looked to her mother only to find a slight, but very amused grin on her face. Finally, Prism had had enough of them for one day. “Ugh!” She turned about face and threw her head back as she made for the exit. “Uuuuugh!”
Prism stormed through the door and headed off to the garage, leaving her mother and Praxia alone. Twilight held her composure for a moment longer before finally letting heavy snickers escape from behind a raised wing. Her throat started to sting from the effort of keeping some measure of decorum.
Praxia gave only slight laughter from behind a hoof. Not even here could she fully let go of her professional posture.
Slowly, Twilight gave up the ghost and let her wing fall so she could laugh in earnest. It was the laugh of one releasing tension caused by the burden of rule.
Being more controlled, Praxia was the first to break the string of laughter. “I must ask, Sensei, how long have you been holding onto that prank virus?”
Recollecting herself with a content sigh, Twilight worked up enough control to talk. “About seventy years, give or take. It helps that Voyager knows not to disable it.” On her display, Twilight was able to watch the false internet rumor mill going hard at work dreaming up increasingly more ludicrous claims, one of which was that she would take up sewer planning. Where in Tartarus are they pulling these stupid ideas from!?
Prism ran through the halls trying to do damage control. Voyager was in on it, of course, and made sure to tactfully redirect any real communication to and from Prism until Twilight gave the order to end the farce. I think I’ll wait until she arrives at Pathfinder HQ, right before she undoubtedly starts to punch the daylights out of Ruby. I don’t think it’d be a good idea to let one of my scouts get hospitalized.
Twilight gave one last chuckle as the good humor died down. She thought about her prankster friends of the past, Rainbow Dash, Bean Counter, Daisy Trim, and a few others now long gone. I tribute this prank to all of you. Assuming some of you’re still watching me from above and haven’t reincarnated yet, she added with a longing smile.
She cast her gaze back to the live feed Voyager was sending her of Prism. The young alicorn was alone in the elevator due to some clever redirection on the AI’s part to keep Prism isolated for now. Twilight eagerly anticipated the moment Prism realized she’d been had. Well, I’m pretty darn sure one of you got reincarnated. I couldn’t be happier to have you at my side for this oh-so-long life ahead of us.
Prism flew out of the elevator so fast she left a contrail behind her. The online rumors were getting worse, and Ruby was making it worse by dragging the entirety of the Pathfinder Corps in on the speculation. Only Silver remained strangely silent throughout it all. At least he has some damn sense.
Prism did her best to ignore the odd looks she got from passersby, hoping to keep her face from showing too much of her mounting fury. Every face, every eye that looked at her was a silent question. It didn’t help that with the speech over, most ponies were in the halls on their way back to work. So Prism had to keep bobbing and weaving through the other airborne pegasi. None of them could possibly miss the speeding alicorn. While most were wise enough to veer out of her way, a good number of them called out for questions undoubtedly mirrored on the internet.
Prism made it to the closed doors of the Pathfinder garage and was about to storm inside and pummel Ruby when all of the message boards, personal messages, and even the three live debates Prism was watching evaporated into an empty personal display. In their place came Twilight’s and Praxia’s smirking faces. “Ha, got ya!” they chuckled in unison.
Prism unsuccessfully skidded to a halt and faceplanted on the garage door. Pulling back and rubbing her sore snout, Prism quickly checked to make sure no one saw that before finally looking at her mother and pseudo sister. “What are you talking about?”
“As much as it may surprise you, Little Wing, the colony doesn’t revolve around you,” Twilight stated with a shake of her head. With a preprogrammed command, Twilight projected an extensive list of all recent social activity on the net. A scant few out of three hundred were highlighted in orange. “Barely anypony is talking about you crying on stage, let alone any speculation as to the cause.”
“Most ponies,” Praxia added in with more professional coolness, “are talking about the new breeding initiative. Not that you cared to pay attention,” she added with only the barest hint of hurt feelings.
“So - so nopony thinks I’m giving up the Pathfinders?!” Not trusting her mother’s data, Prism tried to banish it to perform her own search, but was sloppy in executing the command, as she still lacked decent muscle memory with typing via horn alone. Yet Voyager was accustomed to her sloppy motions and predicted what she really wanted via her conversation instead of what she typed out. Sure enough, barely anyone took notice of her crying, save for Silver who had sent a private message asking if she was alright. Prism slumped on the floor in relief. “Not cool.”
A part of her was hurt by the prank, but she was thankful Praxia and her empathy was not physically next to her anymore. I can’t let them see me mope about this, not after all the shit I constantly pull on them. Swallowing her anger towards Ruby and her family, Prism put on her best half-chuckle, She playfully snapped her mechanical fingers at her mother and Praxia. “Hah, yeah, okay, ya got me fair and square.”
Giving a nod of satisfaction, Praxia made ready to end the communication. “Next time, I’m giving you an actual speaking part so you pay attention. I put a lot of work into selling the initiative, you know. It’s not going to be as popular as the first one.”
“Ehhh, there’s no need to go that far,” Prism waved a hoof insistently. “I’ll, ah, I’ll watch the replay of it later when I have time. Maybe even give it a hooves up.”
“Well, good, I’ll see you out there then, good luck.” With that, Praxia ended the call.
Twilight kept her side open and looked to the side, waiting for Praxia to leave the room. “Prism, my dear, you know I love you.”
The sudden shift from playfulness to somber almost distracted Prism from noticing a flying drone arriving next to her. Her horn could feel the magical pressure wave of the teleport beacon it was carrying a moment before Twilight blinked into the hallway next to her. With a guiding wing, Twilight gently prodded Prism onto a bench and summoned a privacy spell complete with an opaque shield. “I want you to know that I loved your father too.”
Prism’s casual mask threatened to break. “So… I didn’t know you played WWG.”
Twilight could only flash a brief smile. “We ancient alicorns are not like the elderly; we can readily pick up on new things. Games can have quite good stories to tell, and the trials you face to hear that story make it worth more. Plus there was the whole asking for my permission to use his likeness and all.
“But let’s not go off on a tangent,” Twilight added, fully expecting the distraction was intentional. She adopted a supportive yet still firm tone. “I know you miss him.” Twilight gave Prism a wing hug despite Prism’s apparent hesitance to accept it.
Prism hung her head, the tears finally breaking free again. “This is the anniversary of his big win at Briarstone. What made him a hero to Equestria. Those games are the only way I can still be with him… even if he can’t know it’s me.”
“Oh, Little Wing, I know.” Twilight brushed a hoof along her daughter’s chin to lift her up to meet her eyes. “But I know your father would be so proud of the honorable and beautiful mare you’ve become. I have no doubt he’s watching over you from The Fields, or he may have reincarnated already, so he could be with you in person again.”
Prism shook her face to get Twilight’s hoof off her chin, but kept eye contact. “Do you really think daddy would have accepted reincarnation already?”
Twilight gave a wiry smirk and gently tapped Prism’s horn. “Well, not for nothing, Little Wing, but your life is potentially as infinite as the universe itself now. He would be waiting a very long time to see you again if he waited. I know for a fact all of my original friends have reincarnated at least once.”
The scholarly half of Prism took the bait, helping to lift her spirits a bit. “What makes you say that? Don’t ponies become completely blank slates upon being born again? A hero in one life could become a mass murderer in the next, and vice versa.”
“True,” Twilight said with a nod, “but a theory of mine is that my original friends were, for a time, bound to each other by a set of artifacts called the Elements of Harmony. It didn’t seem to really amount to much back then, outside of allowing us to channel the artifacts’ power when needed. That connection persisted after we gave up the elements, a sort of hold-over I suppose, should we have ever needed them again.” Twilight had gone straight into lecture mode, and was loving every second of being able to share her theories to the one person it was relevant to. “I would imagine that deep, subconscious bond would have faded upon our deaths, but my ascension made it a permanent mark upon all six of us.” Twilight had a faint smile, momentarily losing herself in fond old memories.
“I hope they still teach about Rarity and the others in history class,” Twilight stated at length, turning to her daughter. Prism shook her head, making Twilight groan in profound annoyance. “I told the School Board changing the common core to minimize history classes was a mistake, but nooo, nopony listens to the Princess of Books, now do they?!” Stupid idiots were lucky I was far too busy to fix it all, or I’d have canned the whole lot of them.
Prism snickered at the nickname, eliciting a bigger smile out of Twilight. “So you actually agree with the title?”
“Yes.” Twilight giggled and booped her daughter’s nose with her own. “But never in public, of course. Anyway, I had no way of knowing it at the time, but over the centuries, I’ve noticed a recurring theme among those five friends. Unlike every other reincarnation, my friends always seemed to retain their tribe and core personalities. Take Applejack for instance, you know of her, right?” To help her out, Twilight created a hologram of a trio of red apples.
“Oh yeah, that’s one of the cutie marks you used to have on a mural in your bedroom. An…” Prism tried her best to remember. “Orange earth pony right? She was part of the Apple clan wasn’t she?”
“That’s right. Applejack always seemed to come back as an earth pony, and always in the Apple family. Which… isn’t too hard considering how prolific they were.” Twilight shook her head to get back on track. “I didn’t always find her new body, but often times when I did, I just kept a distant eye on her, and didn’t want to interfere.”
“But if she had that much control over her new lives, why not go meet her again?”
A pained, fragile smile crossed Twilight’s lips and she retracted her wing from around Prism. She was silent for a long moment to collect her thoughts. “I did, for the first one I found. Apple Cracker was his name that time around. He had all the hallmarks of Applejack, brutally honest, such a terrible liar even a blind pony could see, and those same freckles were on his face,” she added with a short laugh. “A few others things, but that’s beside the point. What mattered was that he didn’t have a single shred of Applejack’s memories. I was a perfect stranger to him… Well, as much of a stranger as a Princess can be, I suppose.
“Some part of Applejack lived on inside of him, though. I could feel it; he wasn’t a completely blank slate, but he was enough of one to have completely forgotten who he used to be.”
“Apple Cracker…” Prism said slowly as she searched her memories. “Wait a second, wasn’t he your second husband?”
Twilight’s cheeks flushed beet red, and she attempted to hide it behind a wing. “Cracker was very charming, okay? He was quite the looker too,” Twilight had a sultry look on her face at the memories. “Oh, he was such a player, and I was in a phase, and-”
“TMI, mom, T. M. I.” Prism forcefully kept that image out her head. “Switching topics, so who do you think I used to be?”
Twilight blinked, her memories of Apple Cracker put aside. “What makes you ask that?”
Prism rolled her eyes. “Come on mom, you and I both know I inherited your brain, I can see where this is going from a mile away.”
Twilight let off a warm-hearted chuckle and nuzzled her daughter. “And what a marvelous brain it is to have.” Pulling back with a wistful sigh, Twilight summoned a picture of a sky blue pegasus with a rainbow mane. She had a thundercloud cutie mark. “Rainbow Dash has always, always come back as an athletic, tomcolt pegasus with at least three colors in her hair.” Twilight’s eyes went distant as she flew back into her memories. “But more importantly, every one of your incarnations has found his or her way back to me. Almost as if your spirit felt compelled to seek me out, even if you never knew why outside of some base need. I was always more than happy to have your previous lives as friends.” Twilight gently ruffled Prism’s mane, ruining her mild attempt at styling it. “Amusingly enough, I kept running into your incarnations at increasingly younger ages. Almost as if you were racing yourself. None of my other friends actively sought me out.”
Aside from being a meaningful person to her mother, Rainbow Dash’s name only felt barely familiar to Prism. Even if she’s right, maybe I’m too far removed from Rainbow Dash to really… care? No, that’s not right… to feel like it matters? Prism ultimately inwardly shrugged. “Well, whoever I used to be is cool and all, but I’m staying me so long as there’s a rock or star I haven’t explored yet!”
“Heh, I should have expected as much.” Twilight grinned proudly, but a small part of her was sad to see Rainbow’s latest incarnation wouldn’t have any interest in her soul’s anchor. That might change with time I hope. “Speaking of exploration, you better run along. The crawler’s leaving in forty eight hours, and you need to get out there today to make sure the way is safe.”
“Oh, you can count on me getting it done!” With one last quick hug, Prism Flash blitzed into the garage to make ready, leaving Twilight alone with her thoughts.
Twilight gave a calm breath and dispelled the privacy field. Either I’m right or I’m wrong. But I suppose I’m just glad Prism turned out the way she did. Her mind drifted towards a time when Rainbow Dash had pulled some clever prank, and the trickster had that mischievous smirk Twilight saw all too often on Prism. That same raspy voice that Twilight remembered fondly, and Rainbow’s utter loyalty. A loyalty so deep it kept bringing her back to Twilight. I hope I’ve raised you right. You deserve no less, my old friend.