//------------------------------// // Chapter 12: Epilogue // Story: Twilight Sparkle and the Cake Thief // by Noble Thought //------------------------------// Luna stared up at the tower she had left more than a thousand years ago. She remembered almost none of the intervening time, and much of what she did remember between the night she and her sister were last happy together and the blank thousand years, she shied away from. The Tantabus would take care of the temptation to think too long on that time. But she didn’t come here to reminisce. At least, she reminded herself, not to reminisce about the distant past. The more recent past called to her, pulsing in a carved wooden box held close to her chest. The box and its contents did not pulse, of course; that was only in her imagination, but she felt a deep significance surrounding the cutie confection that had appeared with her when she had been cleansed so long ago. For the longest time, almost five years, she had believed it to be the talisman of the pony who had rescued her, a reminder of friendship and its power to heal. But even before Twilight had become a Princess in her own right, it had taken on a new importance in her mind. Memories of the intervening years she had thought were blank surfaced. A thousand frozen nights, wandering the school alone, and one night when a familiar pony had walked with her, laughed with her, and called her friend. In her dreams after letting the Tantabus control her, shame her, and bury her in remorse, she had dreamt of the school as she had known it. She had sat in mute witness as it changed in a thousand tiny ways, from the way the guards dressed, to the way the murals changed, and even the extent of the school seemed to swell and overtake familiar parts, every time new to her, and every time seeming like a different castle. Ever since visiting Ponyville and the Elements of Harmony on that Nightmare Night, a celebration of her past self’s defeat, the dreams had come frequently, though some days, her dreams following her castigation were empty. Most times, she walked the castle alone, always with a plate of cake with her. She was going to celebrate with her sister their graduation from Star Swirl’s School of Magic. In her mind, each time she saw a duality of cutie confection—at once her own and Celestia’s, and cutie marks completely unfamiliar. Each time, she wandered the school, lost in a fog of uncertainty as memory and terror mounted, always towards a golden cord stretching into the sky like a rent in the heavens. Each time, standing before the gate to redemption, she had fled as the last moment before the gate opened, overcome by memories of striking down her sister and diving in for the finishing blow. That last time… Just a few nights ago, she had dreamt of Twilight Sparkle, younger and more uncertain, intruding on the by then familiar empty castle. She had more than dreamt of Twilight Sparkle but inhabited her thoughts and emotions. Time and again, the dream had drawn her into other ponies, all of them touched upon Twilight in some way, and she had even seen Princess Celestia, of all ponies, intriguing to push Twilight into her path. That night she had stayed long enough to watch as anguish and grief spilled down the regal face she’d known better than her own as she saw her sister push resolution ahead of love, and fled as memory of the final clash swept down upon her. When she woke at last, it was far past time to raise the moon, but Celestia had not bothered her. The moon was raised, and a note on her door, and a gilt wooden box on the floor told her that her sister had expected this; the box had held a note, wishing her well, and promising an ear if she needed one. Perhaps Celestia, too, had been experiencing dreams of an uncertain quality and divined their reason and purpose. She had no more dreams of walking the castle. She now stood in front of the tower that she could never reach in the dream, the timeless bubble twinkling in the late afternoon light, and wondered at the hints Twilight had dropped throughout the intervening five years. Little clues that suggested she had remembered long ago. “How long ago did you know?” She asked the tower and the box. “Did you think you could not approach me with your supposition or theories or knowledge?” Neither answered, but the pony who could answer them was in the top, cleaning. Celestia had hinted strongly that she should visit. Steeling herself, Luna pushed open the gate, walking into a springtime garden filled with the sounds of life. The babbling brook that wended its way under the moon bridge captured her attention for a minute, until she goaded herself onward with an admonishment for stalling. She made her way through the sitting room, past the entrance to the bedroom, marveling that so little, and yet so much had changed in the thousand years since she last remembered it. The same books must have been written and rewritten, and newer texts seemed older than the copies she had flipped through when she was young, as though time was moving backwards. Again, she pushed herself against stalling. Up she went, to the library and observatory. The hourglass marking the year was still there, still spinning slowly, though the markers of moon times and seasons had apparently worn off long ago, and a statue of her bust mounted over a bookcase drew a curious glance. The last time she’d seen that piece had been in their castle down by the future site of Ponyville. Celestia must have had it moved. The tower top was also pristinely clean, not a speck of dust or detritus anywhere except the garbage pail tucked discreetly, but not completely, behind a tapestry hanging beside one of the bookcases. Hovering beside it, lower lip caught between her teeth, Twilight surveyed the small study area hidden behind the tapestry. “Oh,” Twilight said, stamping a hind foot, “I shouldn’t have sent Spike away so quickly.” She disappeared, and soon a cloud of dust appeared from beneath the edge of the tapestry amid the sound of furious brushing and sweeping. Luna, laughing quietly to herself, lifted an edge of the tapestry to find Twilight standing there staring at her, a look of horror fixed on her face. “I wouldn’t worry, Twilight,” she said gently. “I always forgot about this nook, too. But it was cozy during the winter months.” “P-Princess Luna!” The dust pail, broom, and dustpan snapped away, as did about a quarter of the books on their shelves. A moment later, the books re-appeared, slightly damp. “S-sorry. I wasn’t…” She trailed off, cheeks visibly coloring under her dusky coat. “Princess Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said in as officious tone of voice as she could muster, though she had to fight to keep her lips from quirking in a smile, “I would appreciate it if you would call me Luna.” “O-oh. Of course. Luna,” Twilight said, bowing her head briefly, then jerking it up again, eyes darting back and forth. “I wasn’t expecting you.” “I realized,” Luna said with a chuckle. “But… I came because…” She cleared her throat. “Because I made a promise a long time ago. Do you remember it?” Surprise flitted across Twilight’s features, then understanding. “I had worried that you never would.” Tears sparkled in her eyes, trailing down her cheeks. “After I remembered, I didn’t visit here ever, just in case. I hoped some day you would remember.” “It meant so much to you? I… I had worried. It meant much to me, as well. But I couldn’t be certain.” Luna blinked away the ache in her eyes and held out the box. “It is nearing evening time, Twilight Sparkle. Will you join me on the balcony?” Inside the box were two cupcakes, one made of a midnight blue cake, topped with her own cutie mark, the confection a recent creation of sous chef Crunchy Crust, the other twilight purple, topped with a replica of the long-treasured piece of rock candy, hardly faded by time. “I didn’t know it came with you,” Twilight said in a soft voice, reaching out a delicate hoof towards the purple confection. “When did you know?” The question came out more harshly that Luna had intended, accusing rather than curious. She winced, flattening her ears. “I did not mean it so…” “No, I understand.” Twilight smiled up at her and sat back. “It was after that first Nightmare Night after you came back. I had the strangest dream that stayed with me after I woke up. I talked to Celestia about it, and she suggested rather strongly that you would remember someday.” She glanced at the blank wall, then back again. “She also suggested that it might be unwise to confront you with the memories before you were ready.” Twilight stood up, ruffling her wings as she left the little cupola. Dust drifted down from her feathers. “I admit,” she said with a sideways glance at Luna, “that it was hard to keep it to myself, but I didn’t want my friends to know either. Not until I could talk to you about that night. Not even Spike knows.” “Why?” It was all she could get out past the lump in her throat. She would not cry, she told herself. “Why?” “Because I wanted to tell you first. That night, Luna…” Twilight closed her eyes. “And every night since I remembered, I wanted to tell you. I felt courage that night. Even though you had done something…” She opened her eyes, darting to and fro, from eye to eye and back. Seemingly satisfied with what she saw, Twilight added, “So terrible, but I could see the remorse. I cried myself to sleep so many times, wishing I could show you that the pony I met that night was the real you. The strongest thing I remember is your doubt that that was truly you.” “It’s not. I’m—” “It is!” Twilight surged forward, wrapping Luna in an embrace. “It really is,” she continued more softly, whispering into Luna’s mane. “I’ve seen you, watched you all these years, with that thought in my head. But… I couldn’t tell you. You have no idea how hard that was, to see you struggle with your past and yourself, and not be able to do anything. I hated myself for knowing how to show you, but worried that showing you would break…” Twilight broke down into quiet sobs and snuffling, ragged breaths. “I thought…” She sniffled and pulled back briefly to rub at her muzzle. “I thought if I told you, you would never remember that night.” Wet tracks trailed down Luna’s neck where Twilight had wept against her, cheek pressed close. The dream, so fresh in her memory, of Twilight Sparkle’s bright curiosity and gentle kindness flooded her again. Bounding through the snow in the courtyard, talking of her youth with a stranger, of happy times, and remembering so much without the shadow of her past actions to haunt her. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, unable to stop the tears trailing down her cheeks. What would it feel like to never remember that? The thought was terrifying, but she kept the fear from overwhelming her. “Thank you, Twilight,” she said through a throat tightened by relief. “For everything, and for waiting.” Twilight laughed weakly, rubbing tears away from her eyes. “You’re welcome.” The tears on her own face felt like a mark of absolution, but she scrubbed them away all the same and lifted the box from where she’d sat it. “This isn’t the original cutie confection,” she said apologetically. “I had Crunchy Crust make up a new one just for you… Your original one means too much to me to eat. Is that okay?” Shaking her head, Twilight laughed and plucked the other one, the one with Luna’s cutie mark and coloring from the box. “Don’t be silly, of course it is. As long as you don’t mind me eating your cutie confection.” Luna chortled with her. “I had meant for you to eat your own. I hadn’t wanted to seem pretentious, but… Yes, I would appreciate the sharing.” She nodded towards the balcony. “I checked the weather ponies’ reports, and the sky should be clear from here to Ponyville, if you would care to join me.” “I would be delighted,” Twilight said with a bright smile, opening the slatted doors to the open balcony, empty save for two cushions placed side by side, clean and plump. “I’d hoped,” she said gently as she took the one on the right, “that my ‘unexpected guest’ would be you. I’ve been waiting to share this view with you for years.” Luna took the left, enjoying Twilight’s warmth as she settled. As warm as the bubble of timeless seasons was, it still grew chilly at night, as she well remembered. In none of her years living and studying in the tower had she ever had a companion to watch the night come. “You haven’t seen the view from up high at all?” “Well…” Twilight squirmed on her cushion, glancing from her cupcake to Luna’s face, then away again. “Only occasionally, before I remembered. I was too deep in my studies to appreciate it at the time.” Luna smiled wryly at her. “And I, too bookish to make friends, had been stuck up here for near six years with nopony to share it with. ‘Tis new for both of us then.” “But Celestia—” Luna cut her off with a shake of her head. “She was too tired at night to stay with me during my evening studies, save that one night, when we two sat in this very spot and…” She lifted her cupcake to take a sniff, then a nibble along the edge of the frosting. She sighed as the butter-cream and blackberry frosting slid down her tongue. “Mmm.” Twilight agreed, closing her eyes as she took a mirrored bite. Luna had requested that her frosting be black currant, a delicacy that she had enjoyed greatly as a filly but was rare in this time for some unknown reason. Below, as they nibbled away, the land grew darker as forests seemed to drink up the last drams of light as the sun faded in the west and Mt. Canter’s shadow spread like a blanket across patchwork fields of green and traceries of blue lakes, brown rivers. Closer to hoof, the aptly named Rainbow Falls blazed orange and red, sliding to purple and finally disappeared in the darkness. “The moon?” Twilight looked up from her cupcake, almost denuded of frosting, a crease on her brow. “Soon,” Luna answered her. “I wish, for a moment, to savor the night as it truly is. Look, Twilight.” She waved a hoof down towards Ponyville and its suburbs. Like fireflies, lights flickered on and spread. Unlike fireflies, they stayed lit and steady. From on high, streets, houses, and Twilight’s castle glowed with torch and the more fey, otherworldly light cast by crystalline embrasures. All across the visible land, lights came on and stayed, lighting the night in patches of glowing fog or cloud. In the distance, Cloudsdale’s highest towers were still lit with the last traces of sunlight, blazing like torches slowly fading out. “This, I missed,” Luna said. “Never in my time have ponies so enjoyed the night that they would light the land with a hundred thousand pinpricks of light. And now…” She stood, passing the remains of her cupcake to Twilight and centered herself. The moon waited with the obduracy of stone and the patience of the inanimate yet flowing with affection for her. With little more than a whisper of power, the moon began to rise, huge and silver-white on the horizon, casting an answering, feeble glow to the sun’s brilliance, but revealing in its light details that had been obscured by the glare of full day. Hills and forests transmuted to oceans of deepest navy blue, cut through by the wavy wave-crests of rivers and streams. Even the muddy brown of the largest rivers turned light, reflecting back glimmers and flashes as the waters flowed ever so slightly faster, answering the call of the moon as she rose. Towns became islands, their rooftops glinting rocks on a pale shore, their flickering golden light dimming as the moon rose and grew smaller, brighter. The patchwork of fields and forests, streams and rivers took on a bas-relief look as shadows took hold, deepening the colors revealed by first moonlight and brightening others, hidden until the full light of the moon shown down upon the land. Throughout it all, she felt Twilight beside her, still as a stone, eyes wide. Almost, Luna could feel her companion’s awe and wonder, and even the imagining of it made her weep silently for the answered wishes for somepony to appreciate the night as she did. Even if it was only this night, sharing it with one pony who saw her for who she was, it was enough. When the moon had fully woken from her slumber and begun her own path across the sky, Luna let go of the communion spell and sat back, accepting again the silently offered cupcake. “It’s beautiful,” Twilight whispered, eyes wide as she craned her neck to look every which directly down the mountainside. “And look at my castle!” She pointed with a hoof. The crystalline tree, standing alone at the edge of Ponyville, radiated like the moon herself with an inner light of blue-tinged silver, casting her own shadows and seeming to drink in the moon’s light. “It’s never done that before,” Twilight added, glancing at Luna. “Why is it doing that?” “It’s reflecting your joy, Twilight. Do you not feel the happiness? I can. It radiates from your castle like a bonfire.” “Oh.” Twilight flushed and sat back. “Yes. Yes, I’m happy. Very much so. I… corrected a mistake, and helped a friend keep a promise. But I’ve done that before, and it’s never done that.” “Perhaps it has, and you have not seen it because the light of the sun overpowers all other light, where the moon lets the light of others shine as well.” Or so I thought. Luna took another bite from her cupcake, folded the wrapper back and took another bite. “That is what I once thought. That the sun outshone everypony because my sister wished it to. How wrong I was. She is a leader, Twilight Sparkle. She shines so bright because she is happiest when her example inspires others. I am happiest when I share my joy with others and let them shine as well. You, dear Twilight, appear to be happiest when you help others shine.” “Is that true?” Luna snorted. “Partly. One cannot escape certain physical limitations. The sun cannot be dimmer than it is, nor the moon brighter, but surely you can feel the magical radiance beyond the light they give off?” “I… can. Yes.” Twilight squinted up at the moon, shifting her head back and forth like a dowser testing for water. “It has been so faint, though. How can it be so much stronger tonight?” Luna glanced at her, pondering for a long moment before she decided for truth. “Because this is the first time in a long time I have been truly happy.” On the edge of her tongue sat a confession about her self-imposed punishment for her past misdeeds, but she swallowed it at the last moment. “There was something missing, but now I have it again.” Twilight pulled her gaze down from the moon to meet her eyes. She smiled. “Friendship is like that.” Unable to meet her eyes for more than a moment, Luna looked up to the moon again, feeling its silent insistence that she confess all. Instead, she said, “It is, isn’t it?”