“Canterlot is nice,” she started to say, but then Princess Celestia trailed off mid-sentence and lapsed into silence. For a time, she stood there, almost unmoving, and the playful wind ruffled her pristine, perfect feathers. Her head turned to face into the wind, she drew in a deep breath that made her sides expand greatly, and her eyes narrowed in an almost sorrowful sort of way while her ears swayed in the wind.
“Canterlot is nice. Pleasant even. But I do so miss this place. So much was accomplished here… and when those accomplishments happened, it felt as though they came at such a price. Everything felt so much more meaningful. I wasn’t as insulated from the world and my failures as I am now. Back then, if I made one bad decision, I saw it. Experienced it. I would suffer from it because I lived among my little ponies.
“But now, I live atop a mountain, far, far away from the troubles of those below. Sundance, you have inherited this land. It is my hope that the land affects you as it once affected me. I hope that you find meaning in your struggles here. For some reason, I think I was a better ruler when I had to strive for things. I mean, I still do… I still do. But I deal with different troubles now. Now, I grapple against things unseen and push back the darkness that threatens to consume us all.
“Grandson, you have an opportunity to find greatness where I once found greatness, and it is my sincerest hope that you will become the pony that I believe you to be. These are fertile lands, a place of growth.” She paused for a moment, almost smiled, and then she turned her head so that she might face Paradox, who stood near, an anxious, eager student who still wished to please her teacher.
“Young Paradox, you are very brave to return here, and I hope that you will find healing. This is the soil of your birth… the place where you were meant to grow. You took that first step, which is no doubt the hardest one of all. Now, I expect for you to go on and do great things. Extraordinary things. There is nothing that can hold you back, save yourself. Do not worry about failing me, young Paradox, only worry about failing yourself. I am proud of you merely for your efforts, and this will always be the case.”
The wind chose a dramatic moment to pick up and a strong gust billowed around the gathered herd of ponies. Sundance felt something in the wind, though what was unknown. Perhaps it was his own emotions and the wind was an external sensation that matched what he felt within. Even so burdened as he might be, he felt free right now, freer than he’d ever felt during his short life.
He watched as the cleanup efforts continued, as things were packed up so they could be loaded and stowed away. Things would be quiet again, and maybe a little boring. So much had changed—a strong foundation had been laid—but certain challenges remained untouched. There was still a lack of entertainment, but that was a problem for him to solve. He looked up at the tall mare who towered over him, and he felt neither small nor diminished, because he stood in her shoes, at least in a sense. So long ago, she had started something here, and now, so would he. It was common ground in the most literal sense, in that they shared a connection to this land.
“Corduroy… there are times when I feel as though I have failed you and your kind.”
“Uh, Princess”—the diamond dog raised one paw while she shook her head from side to side—“my kind makes it increasingly difficult for you to save us and integrate us. Look, let’s not mince words. My kind would rather live in the hinterlands as primitive brutes so we might continue all of the worst sorts of practices. We capture and plunder… we take slaves. Most of us are bad dogs.” She sighed, shook her head hard enough to make her jowls wobble, and her tail drooped.
“Which means I have to work extra hard to earn trust and show that I am a good dog.”
Princess Celestia bowed her head for a second, nodded, and then looked Corduroy in the eye. “You, like Sundance, have a chance to do great things here. All things are possible, Corduroy. Be a beacon.”
The gruff nurse folded her arms over her girth and said in reply, “Can do.”
Then, to Sundance, the princess said, “You are fortunate, Sundance. A great leader is only as good as those they surround themselves with. Most of my successes come from my assistants and those I trust to aid me. Hold fast to those with honour and integrity.” Her ears pricked rigid, and a keen intelligence gleamed within her rose-coloured eyes.
“She is my friend,” Sundance replied. “Though if I am to be honest, my own prejudices almost worked against me. I was raised to believe certain things… just like everypony around me, I suppose. Accepting Corduroy as my friend meant challenging what I was raised to believe, and all the things my mother taught me.”
There was no response from Princess Celestia, just silence. She seemed to weigh his words, and Sundance wondered what she thought of him right now. He felt a soft touch of Corduroy’s paw against his neck, and with it came a sense of much-needed reassurance. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Paradox as she stared at him, though he could not read her expression.
“Your honesty is an asset, Grandson,” the majestic white alicorn said at last.
“I wasn’t sure I had it in me to say it just now.”
“Still being honest.”
“I understand the challenge though,” he said with some hesitation. “My mother raised me to believe certain things. For her, the world is black and white. There’s good and bad. For me to accept Corduroy, it meant facing the idea that my mother might have been wrong about something. That maybe she’d failed me in some way, though perhaps not intentionally. I don’t know a better way of putting it into words. After I met Corduroy, I had to do a bit of soul searching, and I’m not so sure that I like what I found in there.”
There was a sigh from Princess Celestia, who nodded, but said nothing.
Corduroy’s paw was heavy against his neck, but gentle. Paradox seemed thoughtful, but also weary; it had been a long day for all of them but the young unicorn mare openly showed the most fatigue, though Sundance hadn’t had a good look at himself. As he stood there and studied Paradox, Princess Celestia began to pace along the length of the ramparts above the gatehouse. There was something about watching the pearlescent princess patrol the fortifications; she seemed to be in her element in some way that Sundance was unable to put into words.
“A darkness comes creeping all along Equestria’s borders,” she said in a guarded voice. “Once, not all that long ago, at least by my own reckoning, I depended upon Twilight and her friends to protect us from the darkness from Equestria’s long-forgotten past. She exceeded all of my expectations and then some.
“With much of our past dealt with, I now look to Equestria’s future. This place is but one of many where I seed my hopes. There are others”—she made a cryptic pause—“which I am certain you will find out about in time. This feels an awful lot like sending young Twilight to Ponyville all over again. All these circumstances and coincidences aligning and creating situations. Once more, I find myself trusting in the good of others.
“I am entrusting our way forward into the future with you and others like you. One of you will certainly find a way. Though I am not thoroughly convinced that there is only one way forward. What I do believe is that you will find solutions that work for this region, which I am not sure will work for other regions. Make no mistake though, I do believe in you, Sundance.”
He had nothing to say; no words seemed adequate.
“I must be going,” the princess announced. “There is much to do and so little time to do it. This time of respite has been most pleasant. I feel hopeful again.” She inhaled, turned once more into the gusty wind, and then said, “I must go and find Nuance, because I would very much like to have him home again with me once more.”
Nuance was found working, much to his mother’s surprise. Working, and not just supervising. The small colt was engaged in a fierce battle to use his telekinesis to dismantle a canopy, and Princess Celestia stood by passively, with no help to offer. Nuance had his tongue out, his eyes were squinted tight with concentration, and little showers of sparks flew from the tip of his horn.
Sundance understood why Princess Celestia did nothing, why she offered no help, no assistance. Nuance was at that age when it was embarrassing to have his mother do something for him, plus there was the fact that the colt just had a hard time doing everything. Nothing came easy for him—but at least there was valour to be found in the struggle.
Of course, it was even worse somehow to have your parent stand there watching.
“Nuance, darling… might I offer just a tiny bit of advice?”
“What?” The colt, distracted, almost had his magic fizzle out on him.
“It would be helpful if you tried turning the bolts in the other direction, Nuance. Right now, you are tightening them.”
“Aw, son of a—”
“Yes, Nuance? Do go on… continue, if you please.”
Holding his wing in front of his mouth, Sundance chortled.
“Has spending time with the soldiery improved your vocabulary, Nuance?”
“No,” the colt replied as he tried to turn the tight bolts in the other direction. “Flurry is apt with all manner of colourful metaphors, and then there’s Dim when he goes off on a tear.”
Celestia—no longer princessly in nature—her expression turned deadpan. She started to say something, but all that came out was a guttural croak. Not a ladylike sound, not at all. When she tried again, she failed in spectacular fashion, but hid her failure with a polite cough. Then, much to the surprise of everypony, Celestia laughed. It was a booming chuckle that could only come from a mare of such titanic size.
Sundance backed away before his eardrums ruptured.
“I have so missed you at home,” she said to Nuance between chuckles. “Somepony else will finish this, Nuance. It’s time to go home.”
“I can’t,” the colt said. “Sorry.”
“You can’t?” Celestia’s laughter died abruptly. “Why can’t you come home?”
“It wouldn’t be right,” Nuance said to his mother. “I have an obligation to my crew. My team. My fellows. As long as they’re out in the field, so am I.”
There was a profound silence from Princess Celestia, who fast-recovered her princessly demeanour. She stood there, thoughtful, her lower lip protruding slightly, and her nostrils flared wide with concentration. This state of statuesque reflection continued for quite some time, and with each passing second, her expression grew more and more solemn. Until at last, she extended her wing and offered Nuance a sincere salute. There was nothing mocking about it, nothing patronising. This wasn’t a mother being playful with her son, Sundance realised, but a ruler showing respect for one of her subjects. All the lines were blurred and Sundance began to wonder if there were perhaps a lesson to be learned from this.
Nuance’s horn fizzled out completely and the faint, flickery luminescence went dark.
“Carry on, soldier.” Her voice husky, Princess Celestia almost beamed with barely constrained pride. “Remember this with bolts: righty tighty, lefty loosey.”
Wearing a thunderstruck expression, Nuance stood there, nodding. He took a moment to allow this new knowledge to settle in, seemed impressed by his mother’s astute cleverness, but his reddened cheeks suggested embarrassment of some sort. His eyes darted left, then right, then engaged in a shifty, shady dance as they darted to and fro to see if anypony watched.
“Four more days, Mother. We have to take exams and tests and such and write essays about what we’ve done here. I started this, and I will finish this.”
Sundance understood that the hardest work was yet still ahead for the young colt.
“You’ve finally found your way, Nuance. I am happy for you—”
“You had such high hopes,” the colt said.
“I did, and I must have said that a lot for you to say that now.”
“Have I lived up to those hopes?” asked Nuance.
“You have,” was his mother’s response.
“Well,” he began, his thin barrel almost heaving, “that makes me feel better.”
“Me too.” Princess Celestia lowered her head down until she was eye-level with Nuance. “When you do come home, I’m throwing you a party. That’s a promise. Not a big party, because I know you don’t like those. Just a quiet celebration.”
“That’d be great.” The colt tore his eyes away from his mother, and he looked up at the canopy overhead. “I need to get back to work now.”
“And I must be going home. Fare-thee-well, Nuance. It pleases me that you have claimed your father’s way as your own. It suits you. When you come home, I’ll be waiting.”
Nuance’s horn ignited with a bold, fierce glow. “Goodbye, Mother.”
Nostrils wide, her breathing restrained, Princess Celestia backed away. Her eyes were glassy and her ears couldn’t decide which position was suitable. Sundance realised that she was about to cry and it took all that she had to hold back the flood. He moved closer, then had second thoughts and gave her some much-needed space.
“Come with me, Sundance… I would have a few final words with you before I depart…”