“And that’s why I asked you here.” Twilight smiled and raised Starlight’s chin up. “If you’re willing to learn, I’m willing to teach you what I know. You’ll have the power to make Equestria an even better place.”
Starlight looked at the group gathered around the cutie map, flinched, and leaned over to Twilight, asking, “How do I start?”
“Starting is easy! All you have to do is make a friend. And you’ve got seven of them right here.”
The others stood up and circled around, and Starlight closed her eyes, smiling with happiness. A war of emotions boiled inside of Twilight. Relief that it was over, pride in her new student for being willing to start again, and joy over Equestria being whole again and her friends being there fought back the exhaustion, the physical pain, and the deep, cavernous well of regret and anguish that threatened to drive her to the floor. She kept the smile on her face, let the happy feelings keep her going, and listened to the new conversations spring to life around her. She heard all her friends make plans with Starlight for the following days, places to go, foods to try, and ponies to see, which she knew would set Starlight down the right path. Or at least a right path. That would have to be good enough. While everypony milled about, talking and laughing, Twilight quietly slipped out the door of the throne room.
As the door clicked shut, Twilight closed her eyes and felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. She didn’t know how long she’d been awake. It had only been a few hours, it wasn’t even lunchtime, but it felt like days, weeks, maybe months of fighting, over and over again, through world after world after world, back and forth from Cloudsdale to new unknowns. Her joints ached with a dull throb, her head pounded, her eyes felt sticky. She told herself it was fine as she walked, her eyes trained on the floor to keep herself from stumbling. Everypony would understand if she went to her room and fell asleep.
She hadn’t gone to her room. She lifted her gaze, across the antechamber, and settled on the roots hanging from the ceiling. She followed the twisting, ropy tendrils with her eyes, marveling at their size, watching the light dance across the gemstones that dangled downwards. Each gemstone carried a memory of her old home, of the years she’d spent there, the ponies she met, and the friends she made there.
The gemstones carried new memories now. Hundreds of them. Thousands. Some witnessed and others imagined, lasting the years she’d been in the tree and years more, of a different life, filled with the friends she made and the life she built. At least, a life she built. A life worth living. A life that deserved to live.
She felt the moisture run down her cheeks. The glittering gemstones wavered in her tears, and she fell to her haunches, bracing to stay upright on her forelegs. A sob tore its way out of her throat, and she slammed her eyes shut, feeling her body shake. “I hope I did it right,” she whispered through her tears. “I hope it was worth it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t …”
“Twilight?”
She flinched, and drew herself up, sniffling and rubbing her snout.
Applejack walked into the chamber, brow creased in concern. “Twi? You all right?”
She sniffled again and wiped her eyes. She looked around the room. “Where’s everypony else?” She felt her voice crack.
“Rarity’s takin’ Starlight to her place to make a dress.” Applejack touched Twilight’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, Twi?”
She looked at Applejack for several moments, feeling her head swim. “… On the day that we met, if I’d asked you to go stargazing with me, would you have gone?” she asked.
Applejack’s concern mixed with confusion. “What?”
Twilight closed her eyes and felt another tear escape. She wiped her face and pulled in a deep breath of air. “Sorry, that didn’t make any sense.” She studied Applejack’s face for several more moments, trying to recollect her strength, trying to rebuild the relief, pride, and joy to carry her through the day.
The strength wouldn’t come.
“Twilight, did somethin’ else happen?”
She shook her head and looked away, catching sight of a hanging gemstone. The image of Applejack touching her shoulder reflected back at her, except it wasn’t her shoulder, it was a different Twilight and a different Applejack, in a different life where she could press into Applejack’s neck and they’d fit together like they’d been made that way. She cleared her throat. “Um. When I was explaining the battle with Starlight, I said that the other versions of Equestria kept getting worse and worse, where Nightmare Moon, or Tirek, or Chrysalis had won, until it was so bad the world ended.”
Applejack nodded, still frowning and touched Twilight’s shoulder.
“… One of them …” she turned and looked at Applejack, feeling her heart hammer and her voice tremble in her throat. “One of them wasn’t worse. One of them was just … different.” She cringed, not sure how to go on, not sure how to explain it, or if she even had the strength to. A weight fell off her shoulders when she realized she didn’t need to explain it. “Let me just … show it to you.”
Twilight closed and pulled to mind the entire chunk of time she’d spent in the quiet, other Equestria, where the monsters never came, or if they did then somepony else was there to fight them, where they had never known the elements and the castle had never grown, where their fates hadn’t been intertwined and yet they’d been drawn together anyway. A quiet little Ponyville without fear and without pain, but full of warmth, happiness, friendship, and love. A wave of despair nearly drove her to the floor, but she grit her teeth and cast Aurora Symphony’s memory sharing spell.
Applejack shook her head slowly as the magic faded. “… Wow.”
“And now … it’s gone.” She bowed her head. “I gave them the choice. I couldn’t just leave and—and, erase them and live with myself, so I let them decide what happened. And they chose for me to go back. They knew that all of reality was in danger, and they chose for me to go back to save everypony here. And now they’re gone.” She sniffed and wiped her cheek. “They kept saying that I was the brave one, that this was the version of their world where I was the hero. I’m not the hero. I’ll never meet anypony as brave or as selfless as them for the rest of my life.”
Applejack shook her head slowly. “Wow.” She raised her head, carefully studying Twilight’s face. “I’m … sorry, Twi. I’m sorry the rest of us weren’t there with ya. None of what you did today’s somethin’ anypony should have to do on their lonesome.” She looked away. “I know Spike was there, too, but …”
“He’s still very young,” Twilight finished. She nodded and wiped her face again.
“And I’m sorry you couldn’t save everypony who deserved savin’.”
Twilight closed her eyes.
“But that don’t make you not a hero for all’a this. Even if it’s just for one pony today.” She touched Twilight’s shoulder again and drew her into eye contact. “What you did for Starlight really means somethin’, Twi. We both know it. We both saw her face when she realized she’d done wrong, but was gettin’ a second chance. We both know ain’t none of this that really makes ya feel like a hero, ya mostly feel scared, and lost, and worried about your friends, and all you can do is try and do what ya think is right. And sometimes that’s all it takes.” Applejack smiled. “You might not be feelin’ like a hero, but you’re a hero to her.”
Twilight sniffed. “I just … with everything they gave up … I had to make it worth it. I couldn’t let it be for nothing.” She shivered. “And when I took Starlight through the portal with me again … into that world of nothing …” She felt her eyes sting and she wrenched them shut, shaking her head hard. “I can’t believe they decided that. I can’t believe they were okay …”
“… I believe it. You would’a given up just as much for them, if that’s what they wanted. And … I would’a, too.” Applejack pulled Twilight into a hug. “Ya can’t beat yourself up for us bein’ us, Twi.”
Twilight bit her lip and hugged Applejack back. The weak surface of composure she’d built up crumbled around her, and she sobbed into Applejack’s neck. “I should have been able to do something! I should have known what to do! What good does it do to be called the hero if you can’t do anything when it’s really important?” Applejack rubbed her back in slow circles as she cried, feeling the well of rage and loss boil over, hoping that getting it out would offer relief, but the despair felt endless, bottomless. She could shed a tear for every mare, stallion, and foal in that other world and it wouldn’t be enough.
“You did what you could,” Applejack told her through her sobs. “You did what you could, and ain’t nopony who could ask for more than that.”
Twilights heaving slowly turned to shaking as her eyes dried up and turned red and puffy. Her chest hurt and her cheeks ached from grimacing. She slowly withdrew from the embrace and wiped at her matted coat. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thanks for being here.”
“Always.” After a few moments of silence, Applejack’s expression grew distant and she shuffled her hooves on the floor. “… I, uh … I sometimes think about what things would be like if I hadn’t followed you into the forest then. When we met. Not outta regrets, mind, the opposite’a that. Followin’ you into the forest and everythin’ that’s happened after changed my life. It made my world bigger, gave me a group of ponies worth layin’ down my life for, and made me a better pony. I think back and wonder about where I would’a ended up without that.” She took her hat off and held it to her chest. “… It’s good to know that there’s at least one world without it where I’d still end up findin’ my way.”
Twilight gave her a sad smile. “I think there are lots of worlds where you would. You’re a good pony, Applejack.” She rested her hoof on Applejack’s shoulder. After a moment, her smile faded. “… You would have gone stargazing with me that day. I don’t even have to ask, I already know.”
“… Course I would’ve. Wouldn’t have crossed my mind to say no.” She stepped closer, bringing their faces bare inches apart. She lowered her voice. “I’d follow you anywhere, Twi. To the ends of the universe.”
Twilight closed her eyes and rested her forehead against Applejack’s. “If the day we’d met had just been more peaceful.”
Applejack touched her cheek. “Not a lot we can change about all’a that now. All we can do is … decide what’s next.” She stepped back and Twilight opened her eyes. Applejack gave her a level, probing expression. “… You know I already love you as a friend with all my heart, Twi. I’d follow you into the forest every time without a thought. But if where you’re wantin’ me to go ain’t into the forest … I’d follow you there, too.” She flashed a mischievous smile. “That other me wasn’t lyin’ when she said you’re the cutest pony I’ve ever met.”
Twilight felt her cheeks warm up, and she returned the smile, then looked down. She shuffled her hooves. “Have I been … keeping you waiting? For me to … realize that … that you were …” She grimaced. “Have I just been stupid and blind?”
Applejack chuckled and shook her head. “You’ve been my friend, Twi, and that’s been enough for me for a long time.” She put her hat back on and pulled it low over her eyes. “It’s just that, uh, that other world’s got me thinkin’ that I’ve been missin’ out.”
“Yeah.” Twilight grinned. “Me too.” She scraped her hooves on the ground for a moment then stepped forward, nuzzling Applejack’s cheek. “Want to find out what we were missing out on together?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Applejack turned and kissed Twilight’s cheek.
Twilight had wondered where the dumb butterflies in her stomach had been, and why they took so long to show up to the party. She grinned until her face hurt and stepped back, sharing the smile with Applejack. “You, um, free for dinner?”
Applejack’s smile widened and she nodded. “Least I hope so, depends on what’s goin’ on with Starlight next, she said she wanted to help out on the farm some.”
Twilight let out a long breath as the little bubble around real life broke and she remembered what else was going on that day. “Yeah, and I was going to look through the library with her.” She shook her head and giggled. “If dinner doesn’t work out … how about I bring my telescope out to the orchard after dark?”
“That sounds like a plan even if dinner does work out.” Applejack winked.
“It’s a date, then.” They both smiled, cheeks colored, then Twilight sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Sorry for … all of the drama and crying when you came in.”
Applejack waved her off. “Not like it ain’t deserved.” She rocked back and forth on her hooves, then looked upward. Twilight followed her gaze toward the tree roots and the dangling gems. Applejack scooted around and wrapped a hoof around Twilight’s shoulders. “… In a way, they ain’t really gone, so long as you remember ‘em.”
Twilight leaned into Applejack. “Maybe so. I’m never going to forget them.”
“Don’t think I’m gonna, either.” Applejack squeezed and kissed Twilight’s temple. “You’re probably beat to heck from today.”
She let out a long sigh.
“I can go and let you rest. Or stay, if that’s what ya want.”
Twilight hugged Applejack sideways and pushed into her neck. “Thank you, but I probably should lie down for a while. See you tonight?”
“You got it, Twi.” She kissed Twilight’s temple again, then stepped away from the hug. “… I know it probably don’t feel like it, but ya done good today, Twi. Ya didn’t fail them, and you gave Starlight a new start, and that ain’t nothin’ to scoff at. Nopony could ask for more out of you.”
“I do know that. I’ll … try to remember it.” They shared another smile, and Twilight turned her attention back to the tree roots. “It’s going to be hard.”
Applejack nodded, then walked to the door. She cast a look over her shoulder before leaving, her expression tinged with worry, then she slipped out the door.
Twilight watched the light catch in the gemstones as they spun, throwing back images of a different life. In that life she saw hopeful echoes of a possible future for herself, but they all cut deep to the bone. She didn’t want to do it. She hadn’t made the decision. And yet. And yet nopony else could be responsible but her. Thousands of happy lives, different from the ones she knew, but oh so similar, snuffed out in an instant, replaced in favor of the reality she stood in, like a profane house built over the graves of innocents. She grimaced. She didn’t know if she would be able to look herself in the mirror, anyway. She didn’t know if she deserved to. She wasn’t the hero. The gems glittered in accusation, and she looked down.
A different glint of light caught her eye.
Twilight raised her hoof, wide-eyed. The slim gold chain shone through her coat, clasped around her fetlock. Her breath caught in her throat as she unhooked the other Applejack’s wedding band and held it in the light. The gemstone cutie marks sparkled through the gold, dancing, reflecting a life well lived and well-loved. Twilight couldn’t breathe as she cleared her mind and drove magic into her horn, casting a true seeing spell.
The wedding band glowed. Bright, shimmering, constant, vibrant magic, emanating from its enchanted clasp, but also from the very material it was made out of, a barrier against reality, protecting it from its paradox. The magic held strong as she looked, a closed loop, not the hoofprints of an unfinished spell, because there wasn’t a spell to end.
Twilight hugged the band to her chest, cradling it close, and felt tears roll down her cheeks. She looked up at the roots again, grinning ear to ear, wanting to laugh, wanting to scream, wanting to dance.
Despite it all, despite everything, somewhere out there, her tree was still alive, and still full of love and happiness, full of a life worth living, a life that deserved to live.
She slipped the band back around her hoof and clasped it on. “I’ll never forget you,” she told it. “You’re the true heroes of this story.” She stood up and looked back at the tree, smiling, her heart bursting with joy, and she wiped away her tears. “I told you I never know what I’m doing when I charge into the forest. These things just have a way of working themselves out.”
Twilight walked out of the antechamber and deeper into the castle, her exhaustion forgotten, off to sort out books to look over with Starlight, off to pack her telescope into its carrying case. She had a lot to do and so much to look forward to. Time waited for nopony.