Celestia stood upon her balcony, her head raised to the eastern sky. A golden light issued from her horn as she willed her heavenly body across the firmament, enveloping her, suffusing every molecule of her being with the glory and majesty of the dawn.

She was run-down. She was exhausted. The world stretched out in front of her, dull and lightless for as far as she could see.

Her chest was hollow. Her eyes, dull and vacant. The memory of yesterday had laid its familiar gash upon her heart. A gash on top of wounds, on top of bruises and abrasions, on top of scars and scars and scars that would never fade, would never heal. Her soul weighed down with the irredeemable guilt of every wrong decision she’d ever made, every sorrow and regret.

She turned, now, from the balcony, her morning rites completed, and in her head played every word Rainbow Dash had spoken the night before, when still she had consciousness to speak. Every distillation of pain, every pronouncement of despair was hellfire in Celestia’s ears as she retreated unto the welcoming dark of her bedchambers, to slip back underneath her covers and blot out the world with her pillow.

Her ears hadn’t lied. Sure enough, there was Rainbow Dash, hovering over the railing of the balcony. Her voice was raspier than normal, but noticeably less raspy than it had been yesterday.

Still… “Good morning,” Celestia offered cautiously, “but what are you doing up? You should be in bed.”

Something shifted behind Rainbow’s eyes. Something new and unfamiliar, stirring just beneath the surface. Something strange was in her body language, too, and in this whole situation. Since when did Rainbow Dash seek her out at the crack of dawn? For that matter, when was the last time Rainbow addressed her by her royal title?

Then she produced the little book with the sky-blue cover. Briefly, she glanced down at it, an unreadable look about her.

It would be difficult to describe the flurry of expressions that flashed across Rainbow’s face, they came and went so fast. A struggle waged across her features: reluctance melding into agitation and uncertainty, then giving way to heartache, longing, and remorse.

Then, before Celestia could blink her eyes—before she even knew what was happening—Rainbow Dash had closed the distance, throwing her hooves around her neck, burying her face in the soft tuft of her chest. The photo album pressed between them.

“Thank you!” Rainbow cried, tears springing from her. “Thank you for giving them back to me!”

Celestia was slow to react. Haltingly, she reached out a white hoof to wrap around her and return the hug, as if she were in a dream. As if any moment, she might blink and wake up.

“Thank you!” Rainbow said again. Her sniffles punctuated the air, along with her labored breathing. Celestia realized the girl’s wings were working overtime to keep her aloft; the size difference between them was such that she’d have been at hoof level, not hug level, without them. Immediately, the goddess knelt down, allowing Rainbow’s legs to find purchase on the balcony.

Her tears and sniffles continued unabated. After an age, Rainbow managed to peel herself away.

Eyes still swimming, she looked back down at the book, then back up again at Celestia.

Celestia felt her throat constrict. Now her own emotions began to wash over her as she peered back with more hope, more desperate, pleading hope than she had allowed herself in an ocean of time.

Pain raked Rainbow’s face again. A stunned astonishment rolled over her like thunder. Like a flash of revelation through the fury of a storm.

She lunged forward and threw her hooves around Celestia again. This time, Celestia returned the hug with earnest, clutching Rainbow tightly to her chest as her own eyes shined with unshed tears.

Rainbow tripped over the words. Over stubbornness and defiance that had been long-ingrained in her.

“I, um… I know I said before that I didn’t need you, and I… I didn’t want… anything to do with you… but… I guess I… I guess… I…”

She stumbled, swooned, and would have fallen over if Celestia hadn’t been there to catch her.

It was the night before all over again. Apprehension and worry staked their claim on Celestia’s face as she pressed a hoof to the pale girl’s forehead.

Rainbow managed a wry grin. “Guess… my immune system… hasn’t caught up to the rest of me yet, huh?”

Twilight Sparkle’s hooves folded neatly on the hard, metal tabletop as she sat and counted the minutes in the hard, metal chair. In front of her, a bulging manila file lay closed and foreboding. Printed at the top of it were three innocent little words: “Bustle, Bedlam T.”

But the pony to whom that name belonged was anything but innocent. The pony that name belonged to had committed unspeakable acts of violence. Had rained down terror and devastation on over one hundred bystanders, inflicting trauma both physical and emotional. Trauma some of his victims would carry with them for the rest of their lives.

Neither could Twilight discount the way her own life had been affected by him. No, affected was too cutesy a word. The way her own life had been upended, had been screwed with.

“Bustle, Bedlam T.” was the reason why Sweetie Belle had spent a week in the hospital, and why Sweetie Belle’s mom and dad were afraid to let her out of their sight even now, after all this time.

“Bustle, Bedlam T.” was the reason why Shining Armor was still in the hospital, lying comatose in some forlorn Canterlot medical ward. Just the thought of what had happened to him made Twilight want to cry… and filled her with an anger so blistering hot, her finest thermometer would crack at the strain of trying to register it.

“Bustle, Bedlam T.” was the reason why her entire view of the world had been demolished. Her naivety, as Tristar put it last night in that dark, dismal alley. Her foalish belief that all ponies were basically good, that everyone acted with the best of intentions, and that such an act of senseless bloodshed could never, ever happen in Equestria had been shattered by the attack in Manehattan. To say nothing of her full faith and confidence in the magic of friendship. For what was friendship to a heart with so much evil in it?

It was an uncomfortable thing to sit in anticipation for, coming face to face with this monster. Yet she had agreed to it, hadn’t she? She had come all this way. It was too late to back out now.

The fluorescent lights shined their harshness down upon her. She fidgeted in her seat.

There was a buzz, and the metal door screeched open. A brown stallion in a prison jumpsuit shambled into the room, his front and rear hooves bound with thick, white cuffs. He had an inhibitor ring slipped over his horn to nullify his unicorn magic, and a smile on his pretty-boy face. A smile that doubled in size the second he laid eyes on Twilight.

His teeth flashed like a row of pikes. He stooped as low as his restraints would permit him, venerating her with a mockery of a bow.

One of the uniformed officers at his side jerked him back upright. “Enough of that! Fall in line, there!”

Spoke the other, “Bedlam Bustle, this is a Crown interrogation related to the events of Friday, May 17^th, for which you have been charged. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to—”

“—An attorney. Yes, I understand my rights already. Do we have to go through this song and dance every time?”

The first officer shoved Bedlam roughly into a metal chair opposite the table from Twilight, while his partner shackled his ankles to a thick metal bolt on the floor. Bedlam scowled. “Manehattan’s finest,” he muttered.

Twilight gave the police an appreciative nod. “Thank you for escorting him, gentlecolts. I’ll take it from here.”

She cleared her throat. “Mister Bustle, my name is Twilight Sparkle. I’ve been asked to interview you, and also to perform a thaumaturgic scan to evaluate you for any latent magical influence.”

“It is.” Twilight remained impassive. “For both of our sakes, I’d like to ask you for your cooperation.”

“You’d like to ask for my cooperation? How novel! I can’t even put a number on how many ponies have frog-marched me in here to demand answers out of me. Asking? That’s something new!”

A cheshire grin split Bedlam’s face. “Why don’t you start talking, and we’ll see how far you get?”

“ ‘Mister Bustle!’ So polite! Oh, what a sweetheart you are. You’re a much more agreeable pony than that head-up-his-ass captain I’ve gotten so well acquainted with these past few weeks. Better looking, too!”

“Where’s he at, anyway? Here in Manehattan? Cloudsdale? Back in Canterlot, groveling at the feet of his phony, usurper princesses?”

Twilight knew glancing at the one-way observation window was a mistake. She’d known it coming into this interrogation. Later, she would blame her lapse on the high-stress situation. On the effect it was having on her nerves.

Bedlam’s gaze followed her own. He looked at the half-silvered window. At his own leering face, reflected back. Slowly, he began to laugh.

“Big, strong pegasus couldn’t crack the case himself, so he’s gotta send in little girls to do his job for him! What a joke!”

“The well-honed skills of the Canterlot Royal Guard, everypony! Let’s have a round of applause!”

Bedlam glanced at Twilight out of the corner of one eye, then back again at the window. Still grinning from ear to ear, he whistled the sound effect of a pony falling, then acted out the same with his chained-together forehooves, bringing them down together to ker-splat against the table.

Bedlam’s blue eyes twinkled with cruel-hearted mirth. His smirk stretched wider than the Styx in Tartarus.

She closed her eyes and quieted her other senses, focusing her mind on the spell she’d come prepared with. It was almost exactly the same spell she’d used on the mountainside nearly a month ago, when she and Rainbow Dash were forced to beat a hasty retreat through the warrens to escape the Royal Guard, and she’d studied the enchantments on the secret entrance for a way to unlock it. Then, as now, her perception reattuned itself to a different facet of reality, allowing her to pierce the veil of the physical world. To peek behind the curtain at the unseen threads of mana that wove together, rippling and undulating, to form the very stuff of magic.

It was not an easy spell to pull off, requiring inordinate amounts of talent and finesse. Yet as Twilight turned her magesight on Bedlam, she was gratified to find her lifetime’s dedication to the study of magic had paid off. There was a curse on him! Luna and Sage had missed something!

She could see it twisting in the arcane wind, a sinewy ligament of magic that coiled around him like a viper. The mana threads were spiculated, as if covered in razor-sharp thorns. Twilight was leery even to try manipulating them. Even more unsettling was their color: not the tranquil silver-gold of most spellcraft, but a vicious, unnatural crimson.

Twilight’s apprehensions mounted as she surveyed it. It was dark magic, but not the kind Tristar had suspected. This was no bewitchment, no off-beat flavor of mind control. But it had sinister implications, just the same.

She probed further. From the malignant tumor of magic that held Bedlam at its core, twelve outgrowth tendons slithered down and away, like the tentacles of some horrifying, monstrous creature of the deep. Twilight’s brow knit as she felt along the length of them, following them across the concrete floor; out of the interrogation room; down the bleak, white corridor, and into the cellblocks. Into the cells of Bedlam’s twelve co-conspirators, his fellow terrorists who’d joined in his dark cause. Each grotesque appendage sought out a different brother of the Ascendancy. The dark magic slinked up their legs and burrowed in their chests, nesting there like a cancer.

“My sign. Just figured I’d let you know. Beautiful, you don’t need to waste your time casting a spell to figure out if we’re compatible. I knew it from the moment I walked in the door.”

“Charming,” Twilight said with a sour grimace. “Mister Bustle, I’d like to ask you some questions. When you and your confederates attacked Grand Central Station twenty-four days ago, were you acting of your own free will?”

Bedlam’s self-satisfied grin showed his teeth again. “Ours and ours alone.”

“But of course!” Bedlam chuckled with black amusement. “We’re never alone in anything we do. We have Our Lady to guide us.”

“Of course.” Twilight fought to keep the disgust out of her voice. “Moving on. Other than you and your… colleagues… at this time, to the best of your knowledge, are there any other elements of the Ascendancy of the Night operating anywhere, either inside Equestria or extranationally?”

Bedlam gave her a hooded stare. Then he leaned back in his seat, turned, and sneered at the window. “Captain Tristar, did you really drag this child all the way cross-country so she could ask me the same questions, only worse?”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean anything by it,” Bedlam said wryly. “It’s just… I’ve heard it all before. I’ve had this line of questioning from Tristar, I’ve had it from Whitehoof, I’ve had it from Luna herself!

“It’s funny, you know.” He leaned forward again, smiling in that devilish way of his. “All of you, tripping over yourselves to come up with answers, explanations, actionable intelligence… Does it frighten you to realize I’m not somepony’s sock puppet? That there’s zero mind control, zero hypnotism, zero compulsion upon my heart and soul? That a normal-looking pony just like me could be capable of so much evil?”

“But it shouldn’t frighten you! That’s the beauty of free will! I’m capable of it, and so are you!”

“You’re more than capable of it, Twilight Sparkle. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be so compatible!”

Twilight’s hooves slammed against the table. She practically leapt out of her chair, a feral snarl on her face.

There was a rap, rap, rap! against the enchanted glass of the window. Twilight’s ears flicked toward it. Ignored it.

“You put yourself BELOW the rest of us!” she snapped. “You committed an act of terrorism against innocent ponies who never did a THING to you! Elders, families, even CHILDREN! You put my friend’s sister in the hospital! You put my BROTHER in the hospital!”

“You have NO EXCUSE for walking the path you did! What makes somepony as SICK as you? What makes somepony do something so TWISTED?”

Bedlam grinned up at her. A gloating, cold-hearted grin, half conviction and half threat. “Since you asked so nicely, I’ll tell you. You see, when I started out, I was unsure…”

“I thought I knew all that I needed. Didn’t know what to expect. But when my walls came down, I saw the truth.”

Bedlam stared back at her, through her, malevolence glittering in his bright, turquoise eyes. His expression was sweet poison. His voice was danger, stalking quietly in the night.

It took her a moment to find her wits. Her pique of anger had frozen over in her veins. Something about him… about the way he looked at her… with such… solidarity, such kinship…

“Twilight Sparkle, don’t you see? You may be done with me, but you’ll never be done with her. You walk in the shadow of the Nightmare’s glory every day of your life. She lives in you!”

Twilight’s hoof slammed against the waiting button. A red light flashed above the door, signaling the guards.

At that instant, Bedlam tried to burst out of his chair, perhaps intending to stop her—but his chains pulled taut against the anchor bolt, preventing him from rising. Angrily, uselessly, he pulled against his bonds.

“YOU HEAR HER TOO! Don’t even PRETEND you don’t!” he bellowed as Twilight flinched back. “Does she speak to you in your dreams, as she speaks to me? I see her in your eyes! I see her in your SOUL!”

The door flew open, and in rushed the police to subdue him. Twilight backed away as they wrestled with him.

“Wh… Who?” Twilight asked. Her eyes fell back upon him. On the sight of the deputies dragging him away: this crazed, wild-eyed pony, who’d been so lucid and collected only a moment ago; who’d all but turned rabid, as if some switch in his personality had been flipped and begun to throw sparks. She watched him twist and writhe against his captors, screaming and hollering, flinging little flecks of spittle from his maw.

The officers paused at the door to let him answer Twilight’s question. Bedlam leered back at her, face set with a manic grin.

“She doesn’t love you! She doesn’t love ANY of us! It’s a farce—ALL OF IT! Her kindness, her compassion, her benevolence—she pretends, but it isn’t true! We’re all of us pawns in her great game! She LIES to us, she USES us, and then she CASTS US ASIDE!”

Twilight turned away, and the police strong-armed Bedlam out of the room, still ranting and raving. Even as they hauled him back to his cell, his voice floated down the corridor: “SHE DOESN’T LOVE YOU! SHE DOESN’T LOVE YOU! SHE DOESN’T…!”

Twilight leaned one hoof against the wall to steady herself, her face buried in the crook of her elbow. After a confrontation like that, she needed a minute to pull herself back together.

She heard the door to the observation room open, and a few seconds later, felt Tristar’s gentle touch upon her shoulder.

“Miss Sparkle…” she heard him say. His voice was less gruff than usual, with an uncharacteristic note of concern.

Then there was a raucous screech-and-clatter as he violently overturned the metal chair Bedlam had been sitting in.

“That little shit,” he muttered. “I should knock a few teeth out of that psycho grin of his.”

“If you like, we can hit pause on the rest of the interrogations for a few hours,” Tristar suggested. “Celestia knows, these scum aren’t going anywhere, and our train isn’t due out of station until the day after tomorrow.”

She dragged herself away from the wall, turning to look at Tristar with weary, lifeless eyes.

“You can bring the other twelve in here, if you want. You can sit them down in front of me for a week, a month, a year. It won’t make a difference. None of them are going to say anything.”

“Miss Spar… Twilight,” he implored her. “I believe in you. I believe in your abilities. I wouldn’t have asked you to come all this way if I didn’t feel there were something to be gained by your insights. I’m sorry if that experience rattled you, but… will you at least make the attempt?”

Twilight bowed her head. She could still feel Bedlam’s putrid gaze upon her, like maggots crawling across her skin.

She thought of Princess Celestia, a month ago on that far-flung griffin peak, standing steadfast against the cold and the gale. Doing what had to be done for the good of all her subjects.

She thought of Shining Armor, his unwavering resolve and determination. Shining Armor, rising to duty’s call. Shining Armor, charging courageously into mortal peril.

One by one, the other twelve members of the Ascendancy were brought in for interrogation. One by one, they refused to talk.

Each time the police colts dragged another mean-looking prisoner in front of her, Twilight would scan him for any trace of dark magic, only to confirm that which she already knew. Each time she tried to wheedle out information through direct questioning, her best overtures were met with an ill-tempered scowl and a flinty-eyed glare.

Tristar had expected the interrogations to stretch into mid-week, but they were finished by the end of day one. As they sat down for a bite to eat under the umbrella at an outdoor cafe, Twilight explained:

“It’s an ancient, powerful type of magic. Blood magic, to be precise. They won’t speak because they can’t speak. A part of each of them is held in bondage to the will of an agreed-upon designee, who’s known as the blood warden.”

“The blood warden,” Tristar repeated, swilling the words around in his mouth and frowning, as if he found the taste and texture of them disagreeable.

Twilight shrugged. “I didn’t make up the terminology. Look, I said it before, and I’ll say it again: this is ancient, powerful stuff. Even before the Coronation, this school of magic was banned in the Unicorn Kingdom, and only practiced on the fringe by certain members of the Magocracy—the sorts of ponies who also dabbled in chaos magic, necromancy, and the like. It wasn’t widely known even back then, let alone today.”

“Only enough to recognize it when I see it. Professor Whitehoof thought it was important for us to be able to do that much. Dark magic has always held a certain… allure… for some unicorns. I won’t pretend I don’t have any experience dealing with it. Living in Ponyville, you never know when some self-important prestidigitator’s going to show up with a cursed amulet, exile you from your own town, and impose a totalitarian dystopia on the populace.” Twilight made a face at the memory, but she brightened a moment later when the waitress arrived with their drinks. “Oh! Thank you!”

“How to spot it and defend against it, along with other forms of the occult. That’s part of the curriculum at Princess Celestia’s School. Professor Whitehoof himself teaches the class.”

“Right! That’s part of the spell. In this case, the part that’s held in bondage is their voice. Blood magic is ritual magic, so the fact that none of them other than Bedlam can talk implies a ritual offering of blood.”

“It’s not necessarily as dramatic as it sounds. Could be just a tiny drop, just a pinprick of blood. That’s how blood magic works, though. It requires a pony’s life essence to seal the deal. You mentioned the cultists were inordinately powerful when you went up against them, right?”

“Well, that was probably more of the same. I didn’t detect any wellspring of hidden potential, any untapped reservoir of magic about any of them. In fact, I’d bet my bottom bit they came prepared with all manner of dark magic already cast upon them—anathemas, execrations, vile abjurations. To borrow a turn of phrase from Spike’s Ogres and Oubliettes compendium, they were all ‘buffed up’ ahead of time.”

Tristar tapped his chin thoughtfully. “So Bedlam Bustle is the blood warden. He rounds up this group of fanatics, radicalizes them to his cause, swears them to silence, carries out a dark ritual to take away their voice and guarantee nopony squeals. He arms them to the teeth with dark magic, and then they go to town. Is that your theory? Do I have that right?”

Twilight shifted uncomfortably in her chair. All around them were the sights and sounds of everyday life in Manehattan: ponies smiling, laughing, chatting; pigeons skittering across the sidewalk as pedestrians rambled by, and yellow taxi carts with checkered decals click-a-clacking over the cobblestones. She broke gaze with Tristar and looked out over the urban vista, losing herself—at least, for the moment—in the normalness of it all.

“Bedlam…” she began after an uneasy pause. “You’re assuming he’s the leader of the group, but that isn’t necessarily so. He’s the blood warden, sure. But that doesn’t mean he has to be the spell’s author. In fact, having read his biography, I tend to doubt that notion. For a unicorn with his background to cast a spell of that complexity…”

“Let’s just say it would require a mage of some ability to pull it off. I could be wrong, but I don’t think Bedlam is that mage.”

“You’re suggesting he’s a frontman. He acts as a public face for the group, but in reality, he’s a small fry. Meanwhile, we train our investigation on him because he’s the only one who’ll talk. He’s the low-hanging fruit. And we lose sight of the bigger fish.”

“Any one of the other twelve could be the brains of the operation, and you’d never know it,” Twilight said. “Or…”

She gave a sad smile. “Or the mastermind behind the Ascendancy could be somepony else entirely. It could be that Bedlam Bustle and his cohorts are just a single cell in a larger organization, and there are higher-ranking individuals they take their orders from.”

“A distinct possibility, and an assumption I’ve been operating under since day one. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna as well,” Tristar admitted.

Twilight’s eyes lowered to the black metal mesh on the patio table. “I’m sorry. I guess I haven’t been much help, have I? I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”

Tristar reached across the table and clasped her hoof at the wrist. She looked up at him uncertainly.

“You’ve absolutely been a help to me,” he declared. “I know more today than I knew yesterday, and that counts for something. Even if they weren’t bewitched, beguiled, or bedazzled—even if they attacked Grand Central of their own free will—the rest of this? This blood magic stuff? That’s what we in the Royal Guard like to call a clue, Twilight. It’s a clue I didn’t have before, and who’s to say where it will lead?”

The waitress cantered back over, balancing Twilight’s order on the end of one hoof: a pair of daffodil and daisy sandwiches with a side of chips. She set down the plate in front of the brooding unicorn, asked if either of them would fancy another drink—“No, thank you,” Tristar answered for them—and then she hurried off to tend to the other customers.

Twilight didn’t make any move to touch her food as she sat there, her violet eyes lowered again. The little pimento olives stared back at her, speared on the ends of their toothpicks.

She could claim to be complex and multi-faceted all she wanted. Didn’t make any difference. Tristar could see right through her.

Twilight’s head snapped up. A scowl rolled over her face like a swift summer storm. “Excuse me?”

“Reading ponies is a part of what I do. It’s obvious you haven’t been yourself since Bedlam popped his cork this morning. Don’t let that lunatic’s ravings put you off your game.”

The unicorn’s mouth pinched, her muzzle crinkled. She levitated one of her sandwiches, nibbling around the edges.

“I’ve been thinking about him all day long. Trying to figure out what makes a pony like him tick. What is it that causes a perfectly ordinary stallion to turn out so vicious and hateful?”

“I’ve pondered over the same questions. Listen, Twilight. There are mysteries in this world that even your intellect can’t wrap itself around, and the insanity of Bedlam Bustle and his ilk rank high among them. You don’t have to understand them. What you do have to understand is yourself.”

“I saw how you reacted to him today. I saw how he got under your skin, into your head. He baited you, and you took the hook. The second you responded with anger in kind, he’d already won.”

“Anyway,” Tristar continued with a dismissive wave of his hoof, “I don’t know as much about magic as you, but I do know a great deal about ponies. How they think, and how they act. I know there are going to be times, in your life, when another pony comes at you with anger in their heart. Times like those, the best thing you can do is keep a cool head. It doesn’t pay to lose your temper and do something you’ll regret.”

“I’m the best pony to be giving you this lecture. If nothing else, you can take me as a case study on how not to be. You really want to walk my path and be as bitter, jaded, and miserable as I am?”

She fell quiet at that. Tristar knocked back his glass and polished off the last of his drink.

He reached into his coin purse, pulled out a few bits, and threw them on the table to cover the cost of lunch, plus tip.

Twilight’s lips pressed together in a tight grimace. She cast her gaze up the length of Park Avenue, where the patched-up masonry and portcullis windows of Grand Central could be spotted across the viaduct, standing prominently over 42^nd Street. Droves of workers in orange hard hats, pegasi and earth ponies both, flitted in and out of the ruptured building. Repairs were well underway.

Their business in Manehattan all wrapped up, Twilight and Tristar planned an early exit. As sunset approached, they took the ferry back across the Studson to Neigh Jersey, thence to reboard their train and begin the long cross-country journey back to Canterlot.

Tristar led the unicorn back to his private car, which had been freshly cleaned and laundered for her comfort on the trip back. “I’d like to thank you again for your help,” he spoke gruffly, but in earnest. “Maybe to you, it doesn’t mean much. But it means a lot to me, and I guarantee you, it means a heck of a lot to all the mares and stallions, fillies and colts who were caught in the crossfire last month. Believe it or not, we’re one step closer to cracking this thing.”

Twilight put on a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It was no problem. I’m glad I could be of some help.”

He shuffled toward the door, but stopped and lingered. After some internal debate, he looked back at her.

Twilight felt the train pitch under her as they began to pull out of the depot. Heard the locomotive give a mighty chuff of steam, and listened to the sound of the goliath wheels as they clacked across the fishplates. She headed out the rear gangway, opposite the direction Tristar had gone, continuing along the length of the train until her head poked out the back of the caboose. There on the platform, she raised herself up over the railing and watched the metropolis retreat slowly into the distance.

Tristar was right. Bedlam had gotten in her head. Even now, hours later, she felt unsettled just thinking about him. She could still feel his eyes staring through her, as if her skin were made of tissue paper, too wispy and insubstantial to keep the truth of her soul from shining through. She could hear his words, like raw sewage ladled in her ears: “She lives in you!”

Nothing about this mission had gone as she imagined it would. Certainly not where Bedlam Bustle and the Ascendancy were concerned. Even if they were her brother’s attackers, she should have been more composed. Why was she falling to pieces like this?

Not where Tristar was concerned, either. Although her top-level impression of the guard captain hadn’t changed all that much—she still found him boorish, arrogant, colored by prejudice, and often insufferable—she couldn’t find fault in his thoroughness, nor in his dogged pursuit of the facts. As she watched the day fade from her vantage on the back of the train, the sky giving up its blues for the first pink inklings of dusk, she pondered their diversion last night in that shabby old tavern, in that rustbucket town. The truths he’d spoken—the ones she could pluck out from all the bigotry and narrow-mindedness. And, most unsettling of all, the possibility that he might be right about some things.

There was a lead weight sitting in the pit of her stomach; a weight she knew only too well. It was an off-shade of the same anxiety she felt whenever she was late in sending Princess Celestia an assignment or a friendship report; that had once possessed her to enchant a childhood doll, to turn Ponyville upside-down in search of a problem to write a letter about. When Princess Celestia was due in town for a visit, and Twilight flew into a near-mania over the preparations—she knew the feeling, then. When those preparations happened to be undermined by a sudden swarm of parasprites, or by Fluttershy stealing the royal bird—she felt that weight press down on her all the more.

She knew what it was. It was the need to prove herself to her dearest mentor and teacher. To lift herself up in the eyes of the princess. To show that she was dependable, that she was worthy, that she was good enough.

Twilight tore her eyes away from the rolling countryside. Her head bowed, her shoulders slumped, she withdrew back inside the train. It wasn’t helpful to distress herself with dark imaginings.

She started to head back toward her room, but stopped in her tracks when something caught her attention. There in the middle of the caboose, positioned directly underneath the cupola, a white tarp had been draped over some kind of object, about chest-high. She’d overlooked it a few minutes ago, but now on her way back, it stuck out like a sore hoof.

Curiously, she approached it, wondering what it could be. Her magic lifted the cover and set it aside.

Beneath it was a crystal ball set upon an onyx pedestal, unlike anything she had ever seen before. She could sense ripples of magical energy emanating from it. Something to do with divination, sight, and great distance.

A maelstrom suddenly kicked up inside the shimmering sphere: a cavalcade of stitched-together thunderheads that surged from out of nowhere, roiling and churning with ominous portent. Twilight watched, enthralled, as the miniature storm front billowed outward, crashing against the glass confines.

Rapidly, the clouds darkened from platinum, to ash-gray, to charcoal-black. As the magic light inside the orb was eclipsed, so too did the ambient light seem to recede from all around her. The orange glow of the kerosene lamps withered and died. The shafts of sunset spilling through the windows grew shadowy and dim, as if some malevolent, unholy force had moved to blot out the sky. Twilight barely noticed any of it, so intent was she on the crystal ball, on the fathomless mysteries it concealed. The tempest crackled with flashes of hidden electricity, each augury of lightning reflected in her infinite pupils.

Then the clouds shifted and gave way to a chasm of purest darkness, deeper than deep, blacker than black. And from out of the fissure, framed by the writhing storm, SHE SAW IT! SHE SAW IT, and she yelped, and fell back—

A single eye. Slitted, like a dragon’s eye. Like Nightmare Moon’s eyes as she smirked down at her, filling her ears with cackling laughter.

Then the whole world dissolved away, and she saw all the other stuff of her night terrors play out, all the things, all the terrible, horrifying things she tried not to think about. A scarlet bolt of lightning, faded and cracked, the sky above Canterlot riven by a column of black fire, dark shapes all around her, the silver glint of a knife’s edge, a sanguine pool of red. Trapped, nowhere to run, then pain, then coldness pushing from her chest into her limbs, darkness seeping in from all sides, make it stop make it stop MAKE IT STOP

Twilight’s heart raced, her eyes squeezed shut. She whimpered on the floor, quivering and shielding herself behind her forehooves.

With trepidation, she cracked one eye open to reveal the railroad car in all its normalness and banality. The crystal ball still sat on its pedestal, exactly as it had been before. No storm clouds threatened from behind the glass. No premonition of existential dread stalked her courage, and no horrible purple iris was there to stare at her. To pierce her through and through, and peer right down to the very core of her.

Slowly, the adrenaline drained out of her, leaving her rattled, but no worse for wear. She picked herself up off the floor, glancing about anxiously. The sun was back to shining through the window sashes, and the lamps were back to glowing, and nothing was amiss.

Starswirl’s beard! What was wrong with her? Had speaking to Bedlam really affected her that much, that she was coming apart over nothing now?

“YOU HEAR HER TOO! Don’t even PRETEND you don’t! Does she speak to you in your dreams, as she speaks to me?”

BUCKING WASTE OF TIME, this WHOLE TRIP was! Why had she even agreed to come? Dreams weren’t real, and neither were nightmares! It was all so STUPID, and she KNEW IT! Just her OVERACTIVE IMAGINATION, trotting out all this MEANINGLESS symbolic imagery, these STUPID INSECURITIES! She should’ve stayed in Canterlot—

—should’ve stayed in Canterlot, where she BELONGED! She had a JOB to do in Canterlot, teaching Rainbow Dash how to control her magic. Princess Celestia EXPECTED her to be in Canterlot, not some POINTLESS BOONDOGGLE in MANEHATTAN, of all places! But she’d come here anyway, for Shining Armor’s sake—AND FOR WHAT?

So a PSYCHOPATH like Bedlam Bustle could buck around with her head? Her nights were fraught enough with these terrors. Now she had to hallucinate them during the DAY, too?

So Tristar could SNEER AT HER, could PUT HER IN HER PLACE for the CRIME of being born a unicorn? So TRISTAR, of all ponies, could rub her face in how ARROGANT she was, and ENTITLED, and JEALOUS? TRISTAR, that POMPOUS ASS!

In a white rage, she snatched the tarp off the floor, yanking it back overtop the crystal ball with her magic. Teeth clenched and muscles bunched, she threw open the door and stalked out, her whole body shaking like she had a rampaging Ursa Major in her.

An hour later, Twilight was alone in her private car, attempting to meditate over happier thoughts. She had just tucked A Brief History of Equestria, Part One away in her luggage when above her, there was a burst of green dragon fire, and a scroll dropped into her lap.

It was a letter from Ponyville! Instantly, she felt her spirits lift. She ripped off the seal and unfurled the parchment.

Enclosed within it was, oddly enough, a crisp white envelope. The envelope was sealed, and the words For Rainbow Dash were written on the face of it in an elegant purple script. With a frown, Twilight set the parcel aside and turned her attention back to the scroll.

It was from Spike! Hey Twi, I hope you and Rainbow Dash are still having a wicked cool time in Canterlot, the message began—her eyes roved over it hungrily, devouring every word and paragraph, every morsel of vicarious joy there was to be gotten from his description of recent events back home.

Oh, she missed Spike so much! She missed his home cooking, and the way he kept her grounded, and how sweet and kind he always was, and how diligent he was about keeping an accurate checklist, and how he would always look up at her with those bright green eyes and beg her to buy him the latest Power Ponies comic book, and even how he got up to the occasional mischief. She had never been apart from him for so long a time, not since the day he was hatched. What she wouldn’t give to be able to see him again! To hand him a basket of gems and watch his face light up, or smile and shake her head the next time he got into a ‘who’-ing match with Owlowiscious…

But Professor Whitehoof had told her it was better, safer, wiser for Spike to remain in Ponyville. And Professor Whitehoof surely knew best.

Still, she missed him so much! She missed Ponyville, and all of her friends! Every time Spike occasioned to send her a letter like this, gushing with so much news from home—how excited Fluttershy was to be able to attend next month’s breezie migration, or how Rarity had thrown her hat in the ring to be the pony of ceremonies at the upcoming Ponyville Days festival—ordinary things; even inconsequential things; but things she wished she could be there for, things she was missing out on—every time she got a letter like this, her heart ached with so much longing.

Even so, Twilight wouldn’t trade these words for all the riches in Canterlot. She needed these letters. She relied on them to keep her sane.

Everypony here misses you a lot, Twi, began the last paragraph. Me, most of all! After all, what good’s a number one assistant without somepony to assist? But we all understand how important the work you’re doing in Canterlot is. Rainbow Dash is lucky to have you for a teacher. Keep on being awesome, and don’t worry about me! The Carousel Boutique is almost as comfy as the library, and Rarity definitely hasn’t been spoiling me with more sapphires and emeralds than I could ever dream of. And I’ve been reshelving all the books in the Golden Oaks every week, just like you asked me to! Honest!

P.S. You’re probably wondering about the envelope. Rarity asked me to fire it your way, since you’re already in Canterlot. She wants you to MAKE SURE it gets to Rainbow Dash AS FAST AS POSSIBLE. She wouldn’t tell me what’s in it, but it seems REALLY important to her.

What could be so paramount that Rarity needed to contact Rainbow Dash AS FAST AS POSSIBLE, in all caps? …Measurements for a dress, maybe? Some secret-squirrel, hush-hush ensemble to be worn at the Summer Sun Celebration next week? No, that didn’t make sense. Rainbow had bucked Princess Celestia’s every request, had adamantly refused to go.

Come to think of it, hadn’t Rarity and Rainbow Dash gotten into some kind of argument a while back…? Yes, a little over two weeks ago, when her friends had met in Ponyville in the aftermath of the Ascendancy’s attack. Twilight had only heard about it after the fact, as she’d been in Canterlot at Shining Armor’s bedside when the heated words were exchanged. But as she understood it from Applejack, the two of them were anything but amicable.

Before she had even begun to contemplate the ethical ramifications, Twilight used her magic to sever the bonds holding the adhesive together. The top flap of the envelope opened primly without a tear, and out popped the letter, written on Rarity’s finest stationery.

Dear Rainbow Dash,

I won’t mince words. I’m writing to apologize for my horrid behavior at our last meeting, when my pettiness and self-indulgence caused us to part ways in anger. A lady shouldn’t be as mean-spirited as I was on that day, but it’s even more inexcusable for a friend.

I’m ashamed to admit, I wasn’t a good friend to you then, nor have I been, these past weeks. In the aftermath of Manehattan and what happened to Sweetie Belle, I was too distraught, too single-minded, too thoughtless of anything and anyone but my beloved sister and parents to spare a drop of empathy for you, and for what you’ve been going through. In my outrage over the injury done to my family, in my thirst for retribution, I looked for somepony to be angry with, somepony to blame. You just happened to be in my line of fire. It wasn’t fair to you, and I shall forever regret the things I did and said.

I must also plead guilty to being the teensiest bit envious of your recent elevation in rank and station. Admitting that fills me with an even greater remorse, but it’s a flaw in myself that I’ve come to recognize. The truth of the matter is, it’s always been a dream of mine to live a life of glamor and prestige, richness and majesty in Canterlot: the life of a princess. So caught up was I in imagining how wonderful it must be, I failed, in that moment, to remember it was a circumstance that had been forced upon you, and a circumstance that’s been nothing short of devastating for your happiness and well-being. I was blinded by jealousy. I failed you as a friend.

I should have been there for you, just as you were there for me. After all, you went out of your way to travel to Ponyville, to show your support for myself and Sweetie Belle. I should have been grateful to you. Instead, I foolishly tried to exploit our friendship for special favors. Even after I was so untrue to you, you spoke to Princess Celestia on my behalf concerning my request for guard protection, and even extended an invitation for my family to come stay at Canterlot Castle. That amount of selflessness speaks volumes about the true virtue of your character.

Pinkie Pie returned from her impromptu visit to Canterlot this past weekend bearing news of your melancholy. I hope you can forgive her that. Knowing you, I’m quite certain it’s something you wouldn’t want shouted from the rooftops—but it is Pinkie Pie, after all. If what she told us is true, and indeed you are experiencing any amount of isolation or depression… Suffice it to say, it pains me to know I might have had even a small hoof in it. All I can do is beg your forgiveness and pray our friendship has not been irreparably damaged.

I’m just glad Twilight has been by your side this whole time to show you all the love and support we haven’t been able to from so far away here in Ponyville!

Truly, Rainbow Dash, I wish you only blue skies, peace, and happiness. I hope you take the best of every day and spin it into something even more beautiful, the way you always do so well. What storms may come, I hope you weather them with family and friends by your side and never, never alone. And I desperately hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me.

Sincerely Yours,
Rarity

Since when? Twilight racked her brain. Rainbow had been perfectly fine a few days ago, hadn’t she? She’d been going head to head with Princess Luna in that stupid prank war. She hadn’t seemed depressed then, nor had she at any of their recent interactions.

She thought back to the beginning of May, to the start of this strange saga, when Rainbow had first come into her horn. Twilight knew all too well what an excruciating ordeal that had been for her. If she closed her eyes, she could still hear Rainbow’s tormented pleas, burned into her memory like a hot iron brand. Could still picture her lying there, helpless on the bed, as pain breathed shudder after shudder through her labored body… As each howling sob of deep, hollow emotion ripped out of her, heart and soul. To be sure, there was no shortage of trauma there.

Then, the difficult days after, and Twilight could well appreciate how badly the reckoning had affected Rainbow Dash. Her disappearance from the hospital. The refuge she’d sought at Fluttershy’s cottage. That sacred night in the cemetery, huddling behind the knotted old willow, the boughs creaking mournfully in the wind as Rainbow watered her parents’ graves with her reverence, her guilt, and her pain. How could she ever forget?

Now Tristar’s voice was in the back of her head, there to remind her what a nasty, jealous, self-absorbed jerk she was. Her mood darkening, she slipped the letter back into the envelope, then used her magic to seal it up again, leaving no obvious clue it had ever been opened.

Could she really have been so wrapped up in herself? That somehow, she had failed to notice one of her friends… suffering? Once more, she thought back on some of her own recent behavior. Her stomach twisted in her abdomen.

She had to get back to Canterlot. Had to talk things over with Rainbow, as soon as she could. Had to find out if there was any truth to the dire impression given by Rarity’s letter. And if there was—

Before she could finish the thought, she heard a tearing sort of sound from above her, and she glanced up to see the jaws of space and reality prying open over her head. A small rift had formed there, navy-blue and twinkling with an extravagance of Luna’s stars.

Apparently, it must have been mail hour, because two more scrolls dropped out of the cleft and bounced off her muzzle. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the starry fissure zipped back up and vanished.

Twilight frowned and absently rubbed her nose as she reached for the nearer of the two scrolls. On it was Princess Luna’s seal, stamped in blue wax instead of in red. Off it came, and the letter rolled out in front of her:

Twilight Sparkle,

Despite my earnest efforts, I haven’t been able to locate you at any of your usual Canterlot haunts, nor in Ponyville. Therefore, I have to assume you’ve taken leave without giving notice of departure, and you’re currently traveling about the kingdom somewhere.

Of course, you aren’t beholden to anypony, and you have full liberty to come and go as you please, but I urge you to be more judicious. These are uncertain times, as you’re well aware. Your safety means the sun and moon to us. Keep your wits about you, and be cautious.

Twilight’s ears lowered to hear those words pointed at her. It was neither a reprimand nor a rebuke, but she felt chastened all the same. This trip felt more ill-conceived by the minute. Why had she let Tristar goad her into it?

My sister has requested your presence back in Canterlot at your earliest opportunity. There are matters of some importance that she would discuss with you. I bid you, please finish attending to whatever business you have, then make haste for the capital.

For our peace of mind, please send a reply to let us know you’re okay, and to make arrangements for your conveyance to the palace. I’ll be there promptly by chariot to escort you.

Princess Luna

Fidgeting anxiously, Twilight levitated the quill and inkwell, scratching out a quick response. She let Luna know she was safe and already on her way back to Canterlot. She was sorry for picking up and leaving so suddenly. She hadn’t expected to be gone long, and didn’t think her temporary absence would cause a problem. Of course, she would be happy to meet with Princess Celestia just as soon as she could.

With a scarlet flash of her horn, she sent the message on its way to the lunar princess. Then she rubbed her shoulders and sighed, her weary gaze drawing to the last unopened scroll, still in front of her.

No sooner had she skimmed past the second line than her eyes grew big as a bugbear’s britches, and a smile bloomed across her face. After she read to the bottom of the scroll, she started again from the top and went over it for a second time, just to make sure she wasn’t imagining what it said—and once she’d done that, she gave a squeal of joy, clutching the parchment to her chest as her hooves kicked out with happiness.

Twilight had never been happier in her LIFE as she stepped off the train and onto the platform, breathing in that warm Canterlot sunshine. Shining Armor was ALIVE and AWAKE! He wasn’t in a coma anymore! He was AWAKE, and she was going to see him!

She had a jaunt in her step as she weaved her way through the crowded train station, humming a little tune and toting her bags behind her in her levitation aura. It felt like the weight of the world had come off her. Her joy was like a rose in winter, shooting up through the frost and snow.

A voice from the concourse off to her right. She turned her head to look. It didn’t seem possible for her smile to get any bigger, but that’s exactly what it did. “Professor Whitehoof!” she exclaimed.

Sure enough, there was her old headmaster, beaming at her from behind his snow-white beard and spectacles. “Ah! There you are, my dear girl!” he said, and he trotted over to meet her.

Twilight greeted him with a warm, friendly hug. “Professor, it’s good to see you again! But what in the world are you doing here?”

“I’ve been waiting for you, of course! It seemed like the considerate thing to do, being here to welcome you back. Don’t fret too much about it. I do live in the neighborhood, so it’s hardly an inconvenience.”

“But… how did you even know I’d be coming on this train? Or on any train? I didn’t tell anypony!”

“Oh, call it a premonition,” he answered vaguely, but with a generous smile that crinkled the lines around his eyes. “Here, let me help you with those.”

He plucked Twilight’s travel bags out of the air, heaving them onto his back with a physical strength she found surprising for a stallion of his years. Instantly, she gave protest.

“Give a doddering old fool an excuse to do something nice for his best and favorite student, won’t you? Come now. Let’s walk together.”

They walked. Through the bustling depot, they strolled side by side, past the restaurants, the shops, and the lounges, down the wide, outstretched steps, and out into the sprawling expanse of the ticketing lobby. All the while, they chatted as they went.

“It’s good to have you back! I don’t know if you realize it, but Canterlot never shines as brightly as when you’re in it.”

Twilight’s face turned a shade redder beneath her lavender coat. “W-Well, I just hope things haven’t been too bad off without me. I feel regretful for having skipped town the way I did, even if it was only for a few days… I shouldn’t have left my lessons with Rainbow in the lurch, for one thing.”

“Or left against the advice and counsel of your old headmaster, for another,” Sage observed.

Sage chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. What’s done is done. The important thing is, you’re safe and sound, and no harm’s come to you. And as far as young Rainbow Dash is concerned… Frankly, the timing of your holiday couldn’t have been any better.”

“I’m afraid she came down with a sudden case of the flu. She’s over the worst of it now, I’m told, but she’s been bedridden for the last several days, and not in any kind of condition to take lessons.”

Twilight’s eyes lowered to the inlaid patterns on the polished tile floor. Idly, her mind drifted to Rarity’s letter, tucked away in her bag.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I remember last fall, when she fractured her wing in an accident and couldn’t leave the hospital. How much she hated being cooped up… Maybe I should bring her a book to read.” She looked up again. “You said she was doing better, though?”

“Actually, I had planned on paying Rainbow Dash a visit tomorrow to see if she might feel well enough to take a magic lesson from me, but now that you’re back, there’s no need for me to be your stand-in. If you want, you’re welcome to drop in on her.”

“No, please, you go right ahead. Tell her I’ll come and see her soon. There’s actually a lot I need to talk to her about, but right now… There’s someplace else I need to be.”

They had emerged from the train station and onto the portico. Sage stopped at the top of the stairs leading down to the white flagstone street.

“You aren’t headed for the castle?” he asked. Dozens of ponies were coming and going, hurrying up and down the steps all around them, but the old purple unicorn only had eyes for Twilight.

“Not just yet. I’m actually on my way to the hospital right now. You see, my brother’s just woken up, and—”

“Shining Armor’s awake again? Twilight, that’s magnificent news! You must be so happy!”

“And your mother and father, and Princess Cadance, too! I can’t imagine how much a relief it must be for all of you!”

“You don’t know the half of it. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a letter from my family like the one Cadance sent me last night. ‘Relieved’ is an understatement. ‘Gushing with tears of happiness’ is probably more accurate—and I can’t blame her for it, either.”

“Say no more, and don’t bother yourself one bit over Rainbow Dash. I’ll see to her lesson. Let’s get you on your way!”

Sage whisked down the steps, Twilight trailing close behind him. He halted at the curb, stuck a hoof between his lips, and whistled for a taxi. In short order, one rolled to a stop in front of them.

When the elder stallion took it on himself to hoist her heavy luggage into the cart, Twilight raised her objections again, “Professor, please! I can levitate them myself! It’s really no problem—”

Sage finished placing the last of Twilight’s travel bags on the floor of the cab, then turned and regarded her with a gleaming smile. Twilight only laughed and shook her head.

“You know, I don’t remember you doing any of the heavy lifting for me when I took your class.”

She started to climb into the carriage, but Sage suddenly caught the door in front of her, blocking her with his hoof.

“Forgive me, Miss Sparkle, just… one last thing, before you go. It’s nothing, really. Just a passing curiosity that came to mind. But… wherever have you been, these past few days?”

Her hoof scuffed against the pavement. Her eyes darted away, preferring the manicured row of boxwoods set against the stationhouse to the archmagister’s penetrating silver gaze.

Sage inclined his head ever so slightly. “I had a suspicion that might be the case. Did Daedalus press you into service?”

“He didn’t force me into going, if that’s what you mean. He asked me, and I agreed to accompany him.”

“Hmm.” Sage nodded. “Wanted you to give your opinion on the members of the Ascendancy being held on the Upper East Side, did he?”

Twilight’s eyes flitted back from the hedges. “They are under an enchantment. A blood pact, of some kind. All thirteen of them are joined in it. I could see the tendrils of dark magic running between them, binding them together from soul to soul… I think that’s the reason why they were so formidable when they made their stand, and why none of them but Bedlam can talk.”

The wrinkles on Sage’s ancient face pulled taut with a grin. Eyes shining, he clapped Twilight on the back.

“You truly are remarkable, Miss Sparkle! The best and brightest of us all, with wisdom and insight far beyond your years!”

“I’ll make sure word of this discovery reaches Princess Celestia. As a matter of fact, I’ll bring her the news myself!”

“Now, off with you! Off, and pass along my sincere good wishes to Princess Cadance and your brother. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

Twilight seated herself. Peering over the side rail, she paid the wizened old sorcerer a parting smile.

Sage slipped the driver a small pouch of bits. “To Canterlot Hospital, on the double!” he told him.

Then the taxi was off, bearing Twilight Sparkle across town with a clatter of copper wheels and a thundering fury of hoofbeats. Sage Whitehoof stood by the wayside and watched the cart retreat into the distance.

Perched on a cloud high above, Captain Tristar did the same, standing tall and observing with a troubled frown on his face.

Shining Armor barely had time to sit up in bed. Before he could say another word, a purple blur flew across the room and tackled him against the baby-blue hospital pillows.

Twilight’s hooves clinched around his barrel, her head buried in the crook of his neck. Her eyes were misting over, but she didn’t need to see. All she needed was the steady percussion of his heart, still beating; the up-and-down lull of his chest, still breathing. The tenderness of his hoof as it gently folded over her back, reassuring her that he was still there. That he wasn’t gone.

She tried to say something, but all that came out was a hitched sob. Vaguely, she was aware of her brother lifting his head, looking somewhere off to the side. Then, of a familiar pink shape rising from a chair set next to him. Circling, now, around to her side of the bed.

The mattress depressed as Cadance sat down beside her, draping her with a comforting pink wing. “It’s okay, Twilight. He’s right here,” she said, though there was a quiver in her voice. “He isn’t going anywhere.”

“That’s right,” Shining Armor quickly agreed. “Twilight, I know you’ve been worried sick over me, and so have Cadance, and Mom, and Dad. I love you, and I’m sorry for putting you through all that. But it’s okay! I’m all better now, see? I’m better, and I’m still here.”

Twilight looked up, swallowing sniffle after sniffle, hot tears coursing down her cheeks. Then her face contorted with a sudden rage as she exploded at him, “Shining Armor, you BIG, STUPID IDIOT!”

“I believe your sister just gave you an order,” said Cadance. “You remember how to take orders, don’t you?”

Shining Armor awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, a grimace tugging at his face. “You guys are putting me in a tough spot here, you know. Believe me, I wish I could promise you nothing bad’s ever gonna happen to me. Heck, I wish I could make myself that promise. But I am a captain of the Royal Guard. It’s not a job that’s without danger.”

“Maybe it’s time for you to hang up your helmet with the Royal Guard, then,” Cadance said bitterly.

“Sibling Supreme,” Twilight interjected. Her voice came out muffled, as she had buried herself in another hug.

“I said, Sibling Supreme. You aren’t allowed to get hurt like that ever again.”

Shining Armor gaped at her. “What? You can’t just invoke Sibling Supreme like that! You don’t even have the—”

He glowered, but only for a moment. Then he sighed and relented, “I won’t make a promise I can’t keep. But I promise I’ll try—I’ll do everything I can—not to get hurt again. Is that good enough?”

Twilight’s grip on him tightened, her head sinking back into the plush of the hospital blankets that lay overtop him. She nodded.

His hoof folded over Twilight again, gently rubbing her back, and Twilight felt lighter and happier than she had in weeks.

Together, the three of them passed the time in quiet conversation, lifting one another’s burdens and reveling, as much as the setting would allow, in the simple joys of shared company.

She chatted about this and that. Idle gossip from their own circle of friends, and the latest juicy tidbits from the Guard. A funny story about how the waiter had screwed up her order the last time she took Night Light and Twilight Velvet out to dinner. A pointless anecdote about Hinny of the Hills, a popular musical Shining Armor adamantly refused to go see. Preparations for the wedding. She talked at length, though Twilight didn’t fail to notice how she avoided mention of the Ascendancy’s attack on Grand Central, the aftermath of that skirmish, or any allusion to the emotional trauma that had followed on the heels of Shining Armor’s hospitalization.

Soon enough, a one-hour visit turned into a two-hour visit, then bordering on two and a half. The time flew by quickly, despite no shortage of reticence on Twilight’s part. Oh, she chimed in here and there, but otherwise she took a back seat to the conversation, only too happy to let her brother and former foalsitter do most of the talking.

No, happy was too strong a word. She was relieved, yes. Content… maybe. But as the catharsis of seeing her brother well again faded, her euphoria gave way to a creeping despondency.

Rarity’s letter burned in the back of her mind. Bedlam’s sickening leer was fuel for the fire. Her eyes darted to the clock, counting down the hours until she was doomed to meet with Princess Luna.

Eventually, Shining Armor felt like talking about the experience that put him in the hospital, much to Cadance’s dismay.

“Man. Three weeks in a coma,” he said wistfully. There was a funny-looking grin hanging off his face.

“Three weeks! Heh. And I thought I felt hammered waking up the morning after Steelwing’s bachelor party…”

“Nothing,” he chuckled, still with that same loopy grin. “Three weeks…”

Cadance gave him a scornful look. “Honestly, what is it about stallions? You get beat up, suffer a concussion, lose a few liters of blood, break half the bones in your body, and it’s all just bragging rights to you! Just another scar to show off, another war story.”

“Isn’t it? Then why are you so sentimental about spending three weeks in the hospital while the rest of us were losing our minds over you?”

“I’m not sentimental! Do you think I didn’t see the look on Mom and Dad’s faces yesterday? Or Twilight’s, just now? Or yours?”

“…Okay, it is partially about cheating death,” he admitted. “But that’s not all there is to it!”

Shining Armor’s forehead knit. He took a few seconds to gather his thoughts before answering.

“We go through life, and we think we know who we are… But we don’t. Not really. It’s like… there are some moments that just… define you. I spent years in the Royal Guard, training my body, training my mind for a crisis like the one we had in Manehattan. I thought I was prepared for it. But up until the day it actually happened… did I ever really know?

“I don’t think I did… I don’t think most of us do. See, here’s the thing—I don’t care if you’re a princess, or a pauper, or a captain of the guard. There’s always this little voice in the back of your head whispering that you aren’t brave enough, or strong enough, or clever enough, or disciplined enough, or good enough. You’re always wondering… am I really everything I think I am? But then, the moment is upon you, and it all just kind of… crystallizes. You don’t have to wonder about yourself anymore. You know.”

Irritably, Cadance shook her head. “Ponies discover things about themselves all the time. Without almost getting themselves killed.”

“I guess. Life’s full of tests like that, right? This just happened to be mine. It doesn’t have to be a moment of noble self-sacrifice, or life-or-death struggle, or whatever. Could be it’s a moment of humility, or honesty, or integrity. Could be it’s a moment of choosing between right and wrong. Sometimes, your whole life pivots on little moments like those, and you don’t even know it. We all fight our own battles. When the moment arrives, it’s just a question of whether we rise to it… or whether we don’t.”

Shining Armor grinned as he glanced over at Twilight, who was wilting in a chair next to Cadance. “Heck, maybe it’s literally a test! You know, the academic kind. Our Twilight knows a thing or two about those! Hey, how are you doing over there? You sure are quiet.”

“I feel like Cadie and I have been talking your ears off. Why don’t you catch us up on how things are going for you? How’s teaching Rainbow Dash coming along, and your studies on the magic of friendship?”

“I failed the test,” she whispered in a voice that was too small, too hollow for either of them to hear.

More looks of concern were exchanged. Shining Armor sat upright in bed, while Cadance reached over and took one of Twilight’s violet hooves in her pink one. “Where’s this coming from?”

Over the past few weeks, she’d fumbled about in a fog of her own problems, blinded to the wider world by the bitterness and heartache pressing in. But now, Shining Armor was okay again, and the fog had begun to lift—and for the first time in a long time, she was capable of seeing beyond herself.

“Twilight Sparkle, you’re the sweetest unicorn I’ve ever met. You only bring out the best in everypony,” Cadance attempted to reassure her, which only made Twilight sink lower in her seat. Shining Armor held up a hoof to stop her from digging the hole any deeper.

“I know that face, Twilight. You’re spiraling,” he said. “Look at me.”

All of a sudden, his voice was full of military bearing, poise, and command. Twilight did as he ordered and looked up at him.

Instantly, Twilight’s hopes, her protestations, her ego-driven self-assurances came crashing down around her.

Cadance leapt viciously to her defense, “Shiny, how can you SAY something like that? She’s your SISTER!”

He held up his hoof again, signaling for Cadance to be quiet. All the while, his hard-nosed frown never wavered.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Twilight. You do put yourself above others…”

Twilight rocked back and forth, feeling like the moon and stars and planets had fallen on her.

“…and you are also the sweetest unicorn I’ve ever met. Who only brings out the best in everypony.”

She peered at him, eyes forlorn and full of confusion. Then she cast her gaze aside, mumbling something under her breath.

“I said, those things are mutually exclusive.” Her voice was miniscule, barely any louder than before.

Shining Armor smiled softly. “I’ve known you for a long time. In some ways, I probably know you better than you know yourself.”

Twilight grimaced. Visions of the last month blazed in her memory like the seared and scorched skeleton of an ill-fated zeppelin wreck: a fiery disaster she couldn’t look away from.

“Really? When Nightmare Moon was on the cusp of returning, who saw the signs before anypony else did? Speak up, now!”

“And when Nightmare Moon appeared promising to bring about an eternal night, and Princess Celestia wasn’t anywhere to be found—just who was it that led a ragtag group of ponies into the Everfree Forest on a mission to recover the Elements of Harmony?”

“And when you finally faced Nightmare Moon in the throne room of the old castle, standing side by side with the other five of them—who was it that ignited the spark of friendship in each and every one of your hearts? Who rallied those hearts? Who joined those hearts together, beating in time, beating in solidarity, beating toward the same purpose—with so much goodness in them, it brought back the sun and redeemed Princess Luna?”

“You did,” Shining Armor affirmed. “Twilight, you bring out the very best in other ponies. You make other ponies want to be a better version of themselves. That’s what you’re best at. That! Not magic! If it had been any other unicorn in the throne room that night, even one as freakishly good at spellcasting as you are, I’m pretty sure we all would’ve died in the dark a year ago.

“But,” he continued, “you do have a way of putting yourself above others. It’s something I’ve noticed about you all my life. As allergic as you are to boasting, if there’s somepony who doesn’t share your interests, your priorities… you can take a very dismissive attitude toward them. Growing up, all those times you looked down your muzzle at ponies who tried to be your friend, who would rather play than study. All the times you pushed us away—pushed me away!—for the sake of reading one more book! One more chapter!”

“I was studying under Princess Celestia!” Twilight argued weakly. There was desperation, almost pleading, in her voice. “I couldn’t just shirk off my studies! I had obligations!”

“Well, that’s another thing. Your obligations to Princess Celestia have always come first, haven’t they?”

“I mean, I’m a captain of the Royal Guard. I get how hard it can be to juggle commitments sometimes. But I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to juggle them. I don’t know if you’ve ever thought twice. Learning spells, proving yourself to the princess—those things have always been most important to you, even at the cost of other things. But that’s why you’re Magic, right? Not Loyalty.”

Twilight stared numbly, woefully down at her hooves. Reality had a diamond edge, and it cut deep.

“I’m sorry. I’m not saying any of this to tear you down. You asked an honest question, you deserve an honest answer. I’m not begrudging you, either. Truth is, you worked your tail off for everything you’ve got! I can’t tell you how many nights I poked my head in on you, and you were huddled under the bedsheets with your little firefly lantern, just reading away…

“I love you, Twilight, but yeah, it’s true. You pour everything of yourself into everything you do—blood, sweat, and tears—and sometimes, you can get it in your head that the world owes you something. But that doesn’t make you a bad pony! All it makes you is imperfect, just like the rest of us!”

With some effort, he scootched himself over to the edge of the bed so he was directly across from Twilight, who still had her head hung. Tenderly, he reached out and placed a hoof on her shoulder.

“Nothing I’ve just said changes the fact that my sister is the kindest, sweetest, lovingest, most amazing and inspirational pony I know. Watching you come out of your shell this past year has been incredible, and we’ve never been more proud of you! Isn’t that right, Cadie?”

Cadance gave an audible sniffle. “That’s right,” her voice wavered. “Twilight, you are the most wonderful pony in the world! I know how beautiful your heart is, even if you can’t see it yourself sometimes, and—and I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to the day when I get to call you my sister, too. Please, don’t ever doubt yourself, okay?”

Twilight’s eyes shimmered as she looked between them. Silently crying, she leaned into Shining Armor’s chest.

“Lovingest isn’t a word,” she summoned the wherewithal to tease him, a tiny smile trembling on her lips.

Shining Armor felt the warmth of her tears as they streamed down her face, pooling against his shoulder. His hooves tightened around her.

“One other thing I know about Twilight Sparkle. Yeah, she isn’t perfect, and she’s capable of making a mistake from time to time… But I’ve never known her to make a mistake she didn’t go back and set right.”

Twilight choked on a sob, eyes pressed tightly shut, holding onto him like a rock in a storm. As weeks of pent-up guilt, shame, and regret spilled out of her, he squeezed her protectively, and a hoof wrapped around her shoulders to stroke her mane. Soon enough, Cadance moved over to join them.

“If there’s something you want to get off your chest, you know you can talk to us about anything,” he whispered.

As the tempest began to quell in Twilight’s heart—for now, at least—outside, the pegasus ponies were busy at work, clearing the last clouds from the evening sky, allowing the fire of Celestia’s sunset to shine through.

Next to the window, in the trimmed boughs of a Canterlot cypress, a crow and a bluebird sat in tension on the same branch, side-eyeing each other uneasily and occasionally glancing in.

“Sage Whitehoof, my dear friend! As always, this court is brightened by your presence. Stand and be at ease.”

“The sun needs nopony to brighten it, Your Majesty. Your words do this old stallion too much honor.”

“Silver-tongued, as ever! Nevertheless, the sun shines its welcome upon you, this day and every day. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I have some news, Princess, if I may trouble you for a few minutes of your time. News I think you would be most interested to hear. News about Twilight Sparkle, and our dear Captain Tristar’s investigation…”

A lesser pony might have melted into a quivering puddle of goo, to stand so near before the flames of Celestia’s righteous, blazing anger. Tristar’s spine must have been laced with steel, because he didn’t flinch.

Celestia’s lips pulled back to bare her teeth as she glowered down at him from her throne. “Are you an IDIOT? No, don’t answer that!”

Her jaw set. She pressed a hoof to her forehead, visibly struggling to rein in her temper.

Tristar glowered right back at her. “Your Majesty gave me full discretion to pursue the investigation as I saw fit.”

“On the eve of the Ascendancy’s attack, I gave ONE ORDER to you, Captain Solemn, Captain Armor, and the rest of my lieutenants. ONE ORDER that was to be followed above ALL OTHERS! Twilight Sparkle and the other Bearers of Harmony were to remain UNINVOLVED!”

“I DON’T CARE ABOUT TWILIGHT’S EXPERTISE! YOU DISOBEYED A DIRECT ORDER!”

“You’re wrong to shelter her. She’s a grown mare. She can handle herself.”

“You would presume to judge me, little pony?” she asked, rising, now, from her chair to loom over him imposingly. “Me and my plans? You, who know so precious little?”

“Because of YOUR INCOMPETENCE! YOUR OVERSTEP!” The furnaces blazed back to life behind Celestia’s eyes.

“Twilight Sparkle was already involved! She’s been involved since the moment Captain Armor took that concussion on the battlefield! All I did was give her a PURPOSE again, and the chance to BE USEFUL—as opposed to wallowing here for the last month, stewing in her own failures at teaching Rainbow Dash how to do parlor tricks!”

Tristar wasn’t finished yet. He took a defiant step forward. “Twilight Sparkle should have BEEN involved from the beginning! If we’d had Princess Luna and the Elements of Harmony in our corner a month ago, there wouldn’t have been HALF as much carnage or collateral damage! We might’ve been able to stop the attack before it even happened!”

“If you knew what the HELL you were talking about, you wouldn’t oppose me in this! If you had ANY IDEA the amount of DANGER you’ve put Twilight in, exposing her to—to THEM!”

Celestia had begun to pace the golden platform before her throne. Presently, she stopped and looked down at Tristar, still smoldering.

“I’m removing you from all charge of the investigation into the Ascendancy, effective immediately.”

Tristar’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t protest. He knew enough to recognize when he was beat, and when fanning the embers of Celestia’s rage was likely to blow back against him.

“If that is Your Majesty’s wish, then so be it,” he said, a clear note of derision in his tone.

“Captain Solemn will take leadership of the investigation. You will prepare a thorough summation of your findings to this point, to be made available to him, myself, Princess Luna, and Captain Armor, once he’s cleared to return to active duty. As well as redacted versions for the High Justiciar’s office, Mayor Fairmane, the prosecution, and the defense.

Celestia gave him a narrow look. “Security. You’ve done more than enough gallivanting around. Henceforth, you are to remain here, in Canterlot. Where I can keep an eye on you.”

The princess continued, “The Summer Sun Celebration takes place a week and a day from today. You will oversee the preparations. You will safeguard the event. If the mood strikes me, you will take tickets, poison test the hors d’ourves, and run security on the stallion’s lavatory. Do I make myself clear?”

“I needn’t remind you that Twilight Sparkle and Princess Rainbow Dash are both likely to be present for the festivities. If. One. HAIR should come to harm, on either of their heads…”

“I hope you do, for your sake. Needless to say, I expect you to tend to these responsibilities with DIGNITY and RESPECT for both of them—and preferably, considerable distance. So help me, if you EVER drag Twilight into this business with the Ascendancy again…”

Celestia’s boiling fury was only too obvious, those fiery pink eyes crackling down at him with more than a hint of threat. As he stood there in the corona of her anger, Tristar’s resolve briefly slipped, and he found himself pondering just how many forms of discipline and punishment the princess must have become acquainted with since she was first crowned over a millennium ago, back in the stocks-and-pillory days.

Before he could utter another word, she marched back onto her throne and sat down again, her rainbow-colored tail whipping behind her. She held him in her withering gaze for a few seconds more, and then she dismissed him with a flick of her hoof.

Tristar found his courage again, and his ire along with it. To be taken off the investigation now, of all times, when he was so close to the answer—so close! But he knew it was futile to try and argue.

Dropping into a courtly bow, he backed away the prescribed distance before rising and heading for the door.

He stopped and turned back toward the throne. The look on Celestia’s face wasn’t any friendlier.

“Don’t take me for a fool,” she said. “If these duties are not carried out to my satisfaction, I will hold your title of nobility, your rank, and your personal honor in abeyance.”

Tristar stared at her, his expression hard as marble. Then, without reply, he turned again and swept out of the room.

“I was so relieved when I heard about your brother! Celestia was, too. I hope it wasn’t too presumptuous of me, forwarding Princess Cadance’s letter on to you along with my own. When it came addressed to you at the castle, I figured you wouldn’t want to wait to hear the news.”

It was the next day, and Twilight stood beside Princess Luna upon a golden chariot. The wind rippled in her mane as the drivers whisked them through the mid-morning sky, the white streets and purple rooftops of the city zooming by below them.

Princess Luna smiled a reminiscing smile. “Reunions between siblings are always the most joyous occasions… I know the last month hasn’t been easy for you. I only hope it helped heal some of the injury that’s been done to your heart, being able to see Shining Armor again.”

“It did,” said Twilight. “I was so glad for the chance to spend time with him. With both of them.”

A night’s rest had done Twilight worlds of good. She had woken up feeling invigorated, refreshed, and orders of magnitude more put together than she had been yesterday, or any day since journeying to Manehattan. She wasn’t ‘spiraling’ anymore, as Shining Armor had put it, and the sobering memory of Bedlam was far from her mind.

She felt less sure of herself than she ever had. And heavy. Weighed down by something. Like she had a mountain on her back, and someone saw fit to throw another boulder on the pile with every breath she drew. The malignant anxiety that nested in her three nights ago in that tavern was alive and well, shuddering inside her.

Hence, the reason why she found herself gnawing her lip, gazing timidly up at the lunar diarch. They were already about halfway to the castle, and the trip across town wasn’t a long one to begin with. Sensing her window of opportunity was about to close, Twilight ginned up her courage enough to broach a subject she’d been wondering about for days now.

“Think nothing of it. And yes, of course! Anything you wish to know, you’re more than welcome to ask.”

Slowly, Twilight nodded her head. She stared down between her hooves at the golden floor of the carriage, speaking quietly. “A thousand years ago… when you and Princess Celestia had your falling out… it was jealousy that drove the two of you apart, wasn’t it?”

Luna seemed briefly puzzled. Then her eyes widened with a sudden flash of understanding.

“I see,” she murmured, more to herself than anypony. “I get it now, Tia.”

Twilight felt her cheeks burn at the non-answer. She looked up again. “If it’s something you don’t want to talk about, that’s fine! I’m sorry I asked, I was just curious, and—”

“No, it’s fine.” That easy smile sauntered back onto Luna’s face. “It… isn’t the easiest topic. But for your sake, I’ll make the effort.”

“To answer your question… Yes. It was jealousy, in part. Though truthfully, my relationship with Celestia had already grown strained… There were a lot of unsettled arguments between us, dating back to the first years after we accepted the crown. And… I don’t think she ever forgave me for…”

The princess shook her head. She had a somber, wistful look about her. The ripple of some bygone pain, reaching out across the centuries.

“I think we were too young,” she avoided Twilight’s question. “Too young for what was asked of us. Too young for what was required… We thought we were smarter, wiser than we actually were. Celestia was surrounded by ministers and supplicants who lavished praise, and I was already on my way to becoming the most accomplished mage of my generation. It gave us blind spots. Made us too certain of ourselves. Too prideful.”

Twilight nodded glumly, feeling pessimism encroach. There was an echo of herself in what Luna was describing.

“And all those huddled masses, yearning for somepony to show them a way forward. To lift them up out of the rubble, and build a future for them to live in. To be their guiding light…”

“Naturally, when my sister’s light shined brighter… I felt jealous of her. And then she would lord it over me, and then I would do something to intentionally aggravate and undermine her… And all of it was so pointless! So stupid! If we hadn’t been so young and arrogant… If either one of us had known our quarrel would lure back the Nightmare…!”

“The Nightmare!” Twilight exclaimed. “So Bedlam Bustle isn’t crazy? There really is some kind of… entity… out there! Different than Nightmare Moon, and apart from her!”

“Yes, the Nightmare is real,” she said quietly. “It’s a vicious, murderous thing, drawn to the negative emotions between ponies: anger, hatred, jealousy… Like the windigos of old, only far more bloodthirsty. In ancient times, it would come like a storm, bringing death and destruction in its wake… It’s a manifestation of the darkness in all of us. It abhors the light.

“For a short time, it was vanquished, and it retreated into the wilds, making a host of the plants and animals of the Everfree. Even today, its corruption still lingers in that place. Then, as my bitterness and jealousy grew, it came slinking out of the forest, and it made a new host out of me. Co-opting my ambitions to further its own… To banish my sister’s sun and usher in a new age of darkness, so the Nightmare could run amok again.”

“Well, what happened to it? Where did it go?” Twilight wondered. “Was the Nightmare destroyed when my friends and I used the Elements of Harmony on you a year ago?”

The princess looked away, unable to bring herself to meet Twilight’s shrewd gaze. “You should… really talk to Tia.”

“Twilight… Listen to me. If lived experience means anything to you, please, take my warning. I descended into hell’s morass and met my shadow at the very bottom. The anger… The jealousy… They aren’t worth it.”

The castle was coming up fast in front of them now, the charioteers dipping a wing to swoop down on the landing berth. Luna began to speak more quickly, with more fevered intensity.

“It’s a path that doesn’t lead anywhere good, that’s guaranteed to bring you to ruin. I walked it, and sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever be done paying for it. All it took was one mistake, a single moment of anger, and I burned down so many bridges… I burned down my friendship with my sister, and a lifetime’s worth of love and joy I could’ve shared with her.

“Twilight… If that moment should ever come for you—if anger and jealousy ever start to sing to you, and you feel that heat rising in your brain, telling you to do something stupid, to burn it all down—if that moment ever comes—”

Twilight was surprised to see not a single petitioner lined up in front of the great doors of the throne room. The guards, as well, were gone from their usual posts, which was odd, to say the least. It wasn’t even lunchtime, but it appeared Princess Celestia had already suspended court for the day. Twilight didn’t know what to make of that, but as she and Princess Luna traversed the great hall, she found herself swallowing a nervous apprehension.

Luna held open the door, and in they went. Princess Celestia was sitting on the throne, not a single other pony in sight. She had a kindly smile on her face, but it still felt like an interminably long walk to get to her, down the red carpet, across the checkered floor.

“Twilight Sparkle, my faithful student. It’s wonderful to see you again,” came her greeting.

There wasn’t a hint of anger in her voice, but neither did Twilight’s ears miss her somberness. She scraped the floor in a formal bow, a jittery knot tightening in her chest.

Luna continued up the steps to the throne. She whispered something into her sister’s ear, hidden behind her hoof. The white alicorn nodded her head and said something in reply, and then it was Luna’s turn again.

The whole time, Twilight kept her bow. When Princess Celestia noticed, she beckoned for her to rise.

Twilight straightened back up. A few more words were exchanged between the alicorns. Then Luna smiled sadly and gave her sister’s hoof a gentle squeeze, which Princess Celestia fondly returned.

With that, Luna departed, heading back down the stairs, past Twilight, and out the great doors.

No sooner were she and Princess Celestia alone together than Twilight’s ears pinned back, and she launched into an explanation. “Princess, I’m so sorry I left Canterlot without saying anything! I should’ve—”

Princess Celestia held up her hoof. “I don’t care about any of that, Twilight. All I care is that you’re safe.”

The princess patted the velvet cushion beside her, entreating Twilight with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

Twilight hesitated, then made her way up the dais, putting one hoof in front of the other. She sat next to Princess Celestia, feeling skittish. Never, not once in her entire life, had she been allowed up here before. She knew Luna occasionally sat the throne whenever she held court, but otherwise, the Seat of the Sun was off limits to all comers.

Her astonishment doubled a moment later when Princess Celestia draped a white wing around her shoulders.

Her teacher’s smile was feeble, as if pulled down by some great burden. But still, entirely earnest.

“We’ve known each other long enough… If you aren’t opposed to it, I’d like to dispense with some of the needless formality between us. No more protocol. No more bowing. And… could I just be Celestia to you, from now on? Would that be all right? If we dropped titles?”

She gave Twilight as friendly a look as she knew how, but Twilight’s mind had completely seized up.

Celestia’s face fell. She sighed, considering that perhaps, a direct summons to the throne room hadn’t been the best way to go about this.

“I only want to chat for a while, Twilight. I haven’t seen you since last week. I promise, you aren’t in any trouble.”

Delicately, she reached out a hoof and brushed Twilight’s bangs to the side, pink eyes shining down at her. Twilight felt her mouth slip open, taken aback by the familiar gesture.

“It’s obvious you aren’t comfortable here, so let’s go somewhere else.”

“Anywhere you want,” said Celestia. “Anywhere we can talk. Anywhere you feel comfortable. The library? The castle gardens?”

Twilight nodded, then bowed her head in concentration. There was a pop, a flash of light, and they both teleported at once.

The white paneled walls and bookcases of Celestia’s office surrounded them. The mahogany desk rose at the head of the room, and the wide window behind it, looking out on the swaying boughs of the old tree.

She shuffled over to the fireplace and lit the logs with a bolt from her horn. Bending slowly at the knees, she sat, then lay herself down on the rug in front of the hearth. As Twilight watched her, rooted in place, she was struck by just how tired she looked.

“Would you… like to lie down next to me, for a while? The way you used to, when you were little?”

It was almost exactly the same scene from two weeks ago, only the shoe was on the other hoof this time. Once again, Twilight’s lip quivered, the words dying in her throat.

Even so, something sparked inside her. Something that had gone untended for far too long, that now began to shine again with warmth and light renewed. Her heart lifted, and the worry and tension that had so long beset her began to dissolve away at last.

She trotted over and lay down, nestled at Celestia’s side, and the white wing folded over her. Welcome, this time. Not disarming.

Celestia was quiet for a while after that, lost in the writhing ghosts of the fire; in the glowing orange cinders they sent up. After half a minute had gone by and she still hadn’t said anything, Twilight dared look up at her. She wondered what she might be thinking about.

“Ponyville?” Twilight said, startled. “What do you want me to tell you?”

Twilight cocked her head, her brow furrowed in confusion. “But…what can I say about Ponyville that you don’t already know? You’ve been there yourself so many times… And I’ve already written so much about it in all of my letters and friendship reports…”

“I don’t mind,” said Celestia. Her heavy lids fell shut. “I just want to listen for a little while.”

She told her all about the town. How different it was compared to Canterlot, slower and more rustic, but not without its charms. How those differences had surprised her when she first moved there, but how she had come to appreciate the little village even more for them. Its festivals, holidays, and traditions, from Winter Wrap Up and the Running of the Leaves to the Sisterhood Social. Its odd quirks here and there, and the ever-present sense of danger tickling at the back of her mind that came from living at the edge of the Everfree Forest. Above all else, the wonderful fraternity that Ponyville embodied: not a unicorn town, like Canterlot, but a place where unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies could all come together in love and harmony.

She told her about the ponies who lived there, the ones she’d come to know so well. Cheerilee, and what a fantastic teacher she was, and how much Twilight admired her for passing the torch of knowledge on to the younger generations. Mayor Mare, and how she depended on Twilight for her organizing skills, and the pride Twilight took in every chance to show them. Zecora, the zebra shaman who’d taken up in the forest, and how frightened the others were of her at first before they stumbled into a patch of poison joke, and what an incredible friend she turned out to be in the end. Cranky Doodle Donkey, and what a sweet and lovable curmudgeon he’d become since reuniting with his beloved Matilda. The Cutie Mark Crusaders, and how thick their friendship was, and the bottomless mischief they got up to, and how they would don capes and roam around town causing no end of trouble in search of their special talents. Twilight swore she saw the corners of Celestia’s lips pull ever-so-slightly upward when she listened to that description.

She told her about her friends. Applejack and her common sense, her work ethic, her love for her family, her famous zap apple jam, and the cider she made that whipped Ponyville up into a frenzy each year. Rarity and her elegance, her sophistication, her dedication to her craft and to her little sister, and her dreams of making a name for herself someday. Pinkie Pie and her randomness, the way she tore down Twilight’s every notion of logic, but still brightened up every day with so much joy, her love of making others happy, of Pound and Pumpkin, her sister, Maud, the rest of her family, and Mr. and Mrs. Cake, who’d taken her in. Fluttershy and her gentle soul, her stare, her ability to soothe any savage beast, including the dragon Celestia sent them to evict that one time, her compassion and her hospitality, her willingness to open her home to anypony or anycreature who needed it, no matter how big or how small.

All these things Twilight talked about, and more. And the more she talked, the more her spirits soared. Soon enough, she was animated, speaking with so much passion and gusto, she lost track of time. Until her mouth went dry, and she realized she’d been going on for the better part of an hour.

Celestia listened attentively the entire time, occasionally piping up with the odd comment, asking a question here and there. She seemed content on the face of it, but Twilight didn’t miss the sheen of melancholy that hung about her, nor the invisible burden that seemed to weigh on her.

Eventually, after a few minutes had gone by and Celestia had slipped into a quiet lull, Twilight tilted her head and peered up at her. “Princess, why are you so sad?” she asked.

Celestia smiled weakly. She gave the unicorn an affectionate squeeze, which Twilight took as an invitation to snuggle closer.

“I’m sad because sometimes, I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. Because every year I wear this crown, it feels heavier… Because there are days and days when I cannot see the sun.”

Celestia sighed. “You opened yourself to me, and I’m grateful for that. Now, it’s my turn to repay the favor.”

“Luna told me you had some questions for her about her fall. Would you like to know my part in it?”

Another pause. Celestia’s eyes closed as she composed her thoughts, though Twilight could see them twitching, peering back across memories. Across time, space, and unfathomable emotion.

“I was awful to her. I… I shunned her, and I… humiliated her, in front of all our subjects. I was vindictive and abusive. I made her feel ostracized, alienated her from our countrymen… and she never deserved any of it. She did what she had to do—what I wasn’t strong enough to do—and instead of showing her my love, I punished her for it.

“The kingdom fractured, cracked right down the middle. The harmony we had all fought for—that our father gave his life for—withered and died. And all of it was my fault.

“Luna took her banners, and I took mine… One night, she refused to yield the sky. The heavens dueled for supremacy: anywhere I would move the sun, she would move the moon to block it. For three straight weeks, Equestria languished in darkness. The crops shriveled in the fields, entire ecosystems teetered on the brink… and there was plenty of war and bloodshed to go around. By that point, it was already too late. The Nightmare had her.”

Her voice had begun to tremble, centuries-old pain bleeding out. There was no way to stanch it, no healing to come: truth had sliced across her, exposing an oozing viscera of guilt.

“Canterlot was still pledged to the sun, but she had taken the old castle keep in the Everfree Forest and garrisoned it, made it her citadel. There, our armies clashed. We fought each other in the sky under the dread eclipse, while our little ponies slaughtered each other on the ground below us.

“Nightmare Moon was stronger than me. She almost killed me. I—I couldn’t let her win! It was more than just sibling rivalry now. Everything was at stake. I didn’t know what to do. I panicked! I panicked, and I used the Elements against her. I didn’t know that they would—”

Her voice choked off, strangled by emotion. Celestia stared up at the ceiling, and Twilight heard her swallow painfully.

“For weeks, I tried to come to terms with it, but I couldn’t… I just couldn’t. My conscience ate at me. My grief was all-consuming. I fell into a deep, dark pit, retreating from court, leaving the rebuilding of the kingdom in the hooves of a regency. I would’ve done anything—anything!—to have a second chance. And so, I gathered the Elements and tried to reverse what I’d done, to pry my sister back from the moon… only to discover, too late, that my connection with Harmony had been severed.

“Five of the Elements still resonated with me. Magic was still my ally, as well as Honesty and Generosity. Kindness and Loyalty too, although I wondered if I really deserved them.

“Come to realize, out of all the Elements, it was Laughter that had forsaken me. Laughter! It seemed like the cruelest kind of joke. I tried and I tried, locked myself away in research, spent years trying to revive it, all for naught. Eventually, I saw the futility. A scar had been laid upon my soul, and Harmony would never look past it. The sapphire gemstone was dull to me forever. So, my hopes were obliterated… and I was condemned to live with the consequences of my actions, and to wait for the appointed time.

“Eventually, I came out of seclusion. I took up the throne in Canterlot again. For a thousand winters, I raised my sweet sister’s moon, forced, each night and morning, to look upon her tormented face in the heavens… to know that I had put her there. Through it all, my heart was bereft. There was no joy. No peace of mind. No one to share in my burdens. And I never, ever allowed myself to love anyone ever again. Until…”

Finally, she looked back down at Twilight, and Twilight nearly gasped. The firelight was sparkling, dancing in and out of her tears.

Celestia’s voice came more quickly now, more desperate and urgent. “I love you, Twilight! You know that, don’t you? I may not be your mother, but so help me, I love you as any mother can love their child! When you came to my school, I was the one who was supposed to teach you—but you ended up teaching me! You showed me so much goodness and hope, opened my eyes to possibilities I never dreamed of. You showed me how to love again!”

Tenderly, she touched her forehead to Twilight’s, their horns brushing past, and Twilight heard herself whimper as she lay there with that wonderful white wing holding her close, holding her precious and beloved. Now Twilight leaned her cheek into the crook of Celestia’s neck, into the warmth and softness of her coat. Her head slipped under her mentor’s chin, and Celestia’s wing curled even tighter around her.

“M-Maybe… Maybe I should’ve said this to you a long time ago.” Celestia’s voice hitched. She was weeping now, but she pressed on. “There were so many things I should’ve said to Luna, that I never did… And by the time I realized it, it was too late. I won’t make the same mistake again!

“Twilight… Luna and I never needed to fight! The animosity, the bitterness, the jealousy between us, the hateful words spoken in anger, the arguments back and forth… Never did I realize what it would cost me! So many times, I could have made things right between us. I could have talked to her, owned up to my mistakes, and stopped pushing her away! I didn’t realize what I lost until it was already gone. Until it was too late to ask forgiveness!

“Please, Twilight. Be better than me, the way you always have! Don’t make my mistakes! Don’t let the light in your life go dark, as I did!”

Twilight cried, and Celestia along with her as she pulled the unicorn to her chest and nuzzled her dearly.

Sage raised his eyebrows at her, smiling serenely from the other side of the coffee table. “Why are you blue?”

Rainbow kneaded her temples, a vain effort to keep the malaise at bay. The worst of her sickness was behind her, the stubborn vestiges of the flu retreating slowly bit by bit. But little aches and pains still wracked her body, and her mind felt like it was draped with clouds.

She gestured at the purple-colored candle sitting between them in its little pewter holder. The flame was already burning at the wick, violet wax dribbling down the sides in rivulets.

“What’s the point of being able to put out a candle with magic if I don’t even know how to light one in the first place?”

“Consider it an exercise in fire safety. I know this house of yours is made of clouds, but you still wouldn’t want to risk starting an uncontrollable blaze near any of that expensive-looking Wonderbolts memorabilia, would you?”

“It’s also the simpler lesson. As a matter of history, it’s always been easier to destroy than to create.”

“Magic isn’t any different. Take this flame, for instance. It takes some doing to bring it to life, but snuffing it out? That’s easy.

“Don’t be intimidated by what it is. Fire is like any living organism. It needs oxygen to breathe, just like you do. It needs fuel to keep it going, just like you do. It needs heat to sustain it, just like you do. Kick any one of those legs out from under it, and fire is no more.”

He demonstrated. His aura coalesced around the wick, and just like that, the candle extinguished. Gray smoke curled in the air above.

“Oxygen is the easiest thing to take away. It’s nothing terribly advanced. Just a simple envelope of mana around the flame, not too different than the barrier spells you’ve been studying with Twilight Sparkle. Cut off the air supply and the fire will go out. Here, you try.”

Sage relit the candle. Rainbow leaned over it, staring at it intently, her cheeks puffed out.

After a minute, she threw up her hooves in exasperation. “Gahhh! I hate this! Magic is so dumb!”

“Now, now! Don’t lose heart!” Sage consoled her. “Nopony was ever an expert at something overnight. I’m sure you worked plenty hard to condition your body before you were as nimble in the air as you are today.”

“Psh. You might be surprised. I’m Rainbow Dash. I kind of have a knack for being awesome. Especially when it comes to flying.”

“You never practiced a routine? Never went over and over a particular trick until it was perfect?”

“That’s different,” she said with a wave of her hoof. “That’s finesse.”

“So is this. Maybe you’re right, and you do have a natural gift for speed—”

“—but you have a gift for magic, too, whether you realize it or not. You’ve got to hone it, Rainbow. It’s not going to come without effort. Do you have any idea how many hours Twilight spent in practice and study before she mastered even the most rudimentary of spells?”

Rainbow lowered her head, grinding her molars in frustration. “Right…” she muttered sourly. Twilight again…

Sage beckoned toward the candle, urging her to give it another try. She did as he bade her, muscles taut, visibly straining to project a thaumaturgic field, to reach out with her magical-tactile whatevers and do something to the flame. She bucking hated barrier spells, all this dumb abjuration stuff Twilight liked to rub her nose in. What the hay was the point of it, even? When would she ever need it? Couldn’t she settle for making stuff float around?

Scowling, she shot up from the table and stalked away, wings snapping open and shut at her sides.

She would’ve gone for a lap around the East Garden to cool off right about now if she didn’t feel so bucking miserable! This headache, ARGH!

Rainbow threw open the swing-out window so hard, the casement bounced off the outside wall, and probably would’ve shattered if her house weren’t made out of water vapor. Sulking, she folded her hooves on the sill, head perched on top of them. Next best thing to flying.

“Maybe your problem isn’t magic,” Sage suggested, eyeing her from his seat. “Maybe your problem is something else entirely. Or somepony.”

“I know there’s clearly something eating you up inside, and we aren’t going to make any headway with this magic lesson until you open up about it,” Sage told her bluntly.

She groaned. “It’s all this princess garbage. I knew it was bad news from day one! I mean… some of it’s super cool, okay, I’ll admit it! Like… being able to do this, and stuff…”

Rainbow twirled her hoof in the air theatrically. Without even looking, the candle floated off the table, then set itself back down.

“I’m still Rainbow Dash! I’m still awesome! I’m still loyal! I’m still the fastest flyer there ever was! I’ve still got a pet tortoise named Tank! I still care about my friends! I’m still gonna be a Wonderbolt someday! So what freaking happened? Did I sleepwalk and piss in her Cheerioats or something?”

“You aren’t the same pony you always were. You’re an alicorn now. You’re a princess of Equestria and heir to the throne.”

“Heir to a throne I don’t want and I’m never gonna inherit, because Celestia and Luna are gonna live for another bajillion years!”

Her wings flared, her feathers bristled. Anger ripped through her like white molten steel. After a moment, she realized she was panting.

Rainbow marshalled her emotions. She mean-mugged Sage for a few more seconds. Then she spun around and went right back to hanging out the window, a tight grimace on her face.

Sage stood up, quietly pushed in his chair, and drew across the room until he was standing just behind her. “Tell me, just who is this mysterious pony that has you so upset?”

Rainbow rolled her eyes, though he couldn’t see it. Twilight and Sage went way back. She wasn’t about to badmouth her friend to him, even if she did have it coming.

“Ah,” said Sage with an understanding nod. “Somepony who’s let you down. Somepony who isn’t treating you the way you deserve to be treated.”

“And compared to the way they treated you before you became a princess and an alicorn—would you say they’re showing you too much respect, these days? Or would you say they’re showing you less?”

“Less. Definitely less,” said Rainbow. It was impossible to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

“Hmm.” Sage clicked his tongue. “They’re passive-aggressive toward you most of the time, I’ll wager. Openly disrespectful, now and again. They probably give you the feeling they look down on you.”

“Well, it isn’t surprising. After all, jealousy is the tribute mediocrity pays to greatness, Rainbow.”

It took a moment for Sage’s words to land. The instant they did, Rainbow’s eyes exploded open. Her hooves almost slipped off the windowsill.

The realization hit her like a cloudburst. Her mind raced, as if seeing the last month for the very first time. The weirdness, the petty jabs, the bucked-up magic lessons. The nasty looks she threw anytime Rainbow went off to do something or other with Celestia. It all made sense.

Twilight’s words came floating back. That stormy day in Ponyville a couple weeks ago, when the unicorn had invited herself over and made a total ass out of herself—Do you know what I would give to be in your place? To be something OTHER than just her student?

Rainbow’s teeth clenched. A righteous fire lit under her, and her resentment began to percolate. “What kinda lousy friend—!” she started to rant.

Sage took a step closer. “I hope it doesn’t come as too much of a shock, but the world is full of lousy friends.”

She brushed him off, fighting to rein in her temper. She and Twilight were gonna have words. Oh yes, they were.

“You aren’t wrong to feel upset,” said Sage. “After all, you’ve gone through so much. We all know how lonely it’s been for you, and yet this pony is supposed to have your back!”

“Forgive me if I’m going too far, but… could it be because they don’t care?”

Twilight… did care about her, didn’t she? She contemplated her time since coming to Canterlot.

All the times she needed a friend. Somepony to talk to. Somepony to hang out with. Somepony to be there for her, so she wouldn’t have to go through this thing alone.

Oh, she was there, all right! There to put her in her place! To chew her out for not being Little Miss Perfect-at-Magic! To bludgeon her over the head with EVERY mistake! EVERY screw-up!

Rainbow’s face grew hotter yet, a boiling outrage welling up inside her. Last week, spying from behind the vent as Twilight had her private little rendezvous with Tristar. When Tristar called Rainbow a gutter trash hoodlum, and Twilight practically rolled over and AGREED with him! Why didn’t Twi stand up for her? WHERE WAS HER FRIEND, THEN?

“For a friend to sit in judgment, to be jealous of you…! And it doesn’t even make sense! After all, you didn’t grow up with advantages…”

“Other ponies had benefits you never had. For one thing, parents who were still alive, who could be there to offer their love and support. Not to mention a stable home, a complete education, and a universe of opportunities that life just never gave you.”

“Who’s to say how much more you could’ve achieved if you’d had any of it? Maybe you wouldn’t feel so hopeless about all this book-smarts stuff, and about learning, in general. Maybe they wouldn’t have beat you down when you were all alone in the world with nopony to turn to.” Sage sighed. “Maybe… things could have been different.”

Maybe she wouldn’t be stuck pushing clouds her whole life, scrimping by on a second-rate flying certificate.

Maybe she would be on an elite racing team, the way the grown-ups said it would all pan out for her the first time she broke the sound barrier when she was just a filly.

Where would she be right now if she hadn’t caught such a bad break? If she had just a little more wind under her wings all those years ago? How different could it all have been if she'd traveled the jet stream not taken?

“But you know, some ponies are just like that. They can have the whole world gift-wrapped for them, and it still isn’t enough, because it will never be enough. They’ll hide a smirk when you fail, because they don’t want you to win. They’ll leave you hanging when you need a shoulder to lean on, because they don’t care about you. Not really. The only thing they care about is using you. All you are is a road to an end for them.”

“Luna said something… kinda similar… when I first got the horn,” Rainbow mumbled. She thought back to Fluttershy’s cottage, to all the cautionary advice the midnight alicorn had given her. All the warnings she’d discounted, that she hadn’t taken seriously.

“Luna’s no dummy. But you’re not either, are you? You’ve dealt with bullies before. They tried so hard to hold you down, but you blazed on past them and never looked back!”

Hoops and his gang, and everypony else who had their heads up their own hindquarters, who called her a FAILURE, a FRAUD! She showed THEM in the end! All the times they LAUGHED at her, the ink they spilled writing their little lies! She didn’t need ANY of them!

Sage placed a hoof on her shoulder. “If this other pony truly is as toxic as she sounds—if she’s really so bad a friend—then the best thing you can do—”

She whirled around on him, a horrified expression on her face. Sage took an immediate step back.

“I can’t cut her out! I’m Loyalty, for pony’s sake! And Loyalty doesn’t turn its back on anypony!”

“Loyalty deserves loyalty in turn, doesn’t it? Listen…” He wrapped his hoof around her, walking her back over to the table. “This is clearly something that’s bothering you a lot. You can’t keep it bottled up inside! If you do, it’s only going to fester and poison your friendship with this other pony even more!”

“Then take my advice and be honest with your friend! You need to clear the air. This pony’s hurt you, Rainbow Dash. Not only that, she’s wronged you! She needs to comprehend just how much she’s wronged you, and how very wrong it was of her for having done it! If you don’t tell her the truth about how you feel, your mutual resentment will corrode away the bond you still have with her until nothing’s left. Honesty is the best policy. Applejack would agree with me, don’t you think?”

“I care about you, my dear girl. Celestia and Luna both care about you too. If this jealous friend of yours cares for you the same, she’ll value your friendship enough not to throw it away. If you confront her with everything she’s done and how she’s caused you to feel, then surely, if she’s a true friend, she’ll apologize for her behavior. And if she doesn’t…”

“…then she doesn’t deserve to be friends with such an awesome, incredible, spectacular pony in the first place.”

Rainbow’s smile twitched, a glimpse of her usual bravado slipping through. “You, uh… really think I’m awesome, huh?”

“You’re better than awesome. You’re phenomenal! The most gifted student I’ve ever had! A menace in the sky, if I ever saw one—and once you get the hang of your magic? Rainbow, you’re going to do stupendous things that will leave your doubters in awe! The poseurs, the pretenders, the hangers-on… You don’t need them, and you never did! If this other pony thinks she’s too good for you, then why mourn her? The world will witness your legend, Rainbow!”

Rainbow beamed with glowing pride, an immortal grin fastened to her face. Sage clapped her cheerfully on the back before pointing his hoof at the candle, still burning on the table.

It was the next morning, and Twilight was wandering the castle in search of her prismatic friend. A knock on the door of her cloud house had gone without answer, and there was no sign of the alicorn’s trim, blue profile in the sky above the grounds. With nowhere else to look, she was checking the obvious spaces of the palace room by room.

There was an uneasy gait in her step as she went along. A storm of emotions warring inside her. She felt lighter than she had in ages, buoyed by the memory of talking to Princess Celestia yesterday—and simultaneously, more heavy than ever. The saddlepack she had strapped to her side felt like it weighed a million tons, and she knew every ounce of it belonged to Rarity’s letter.

She was standing in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames. She didn’t look well. Twilight recalled Sage telling her that Rainbow had been sick, and it showed. There was a sort of gaunt paleness about her. A way she held her body in a kind of slouch, which was totally at odds with her usual bearing. She looked feeble, weary, and worn.

Rainbow tensed. Her wings pulled tight against her sides. Twilight saw her steal a quick glance.

“I’ve been looking all over the place for you.” Twilight flashed a mild smile. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately. I heard you were under the weather. Are you feeling any better?”

Rainbow didn’t respond. Only kept her steely vigil over the hearth. Twilight shifted her weight uncomfortably from hoof to hoof.

Her smile stretched a little wider. A little thinner. Each second that went by felt more tortured than the last. The silence radiating off of Rainbow Dash was weapons-grade.

“Here. I’ve… I’ve got something for you, actually.” She reached for the letter in her saddlepack—

Her foreleg froze in mid-air. There was a frostbitten chill in Rainbow’s voice, colder than a windigo’s bite.

The question left Twilight stunned, instantly on the back hoof. “Wh-What? I—I don’t understand.”

Rainbow looked at her with eyes she’d never seen before, filled with so much hurt and anger, they made Twilight cringe.

The little alicorn began to pace slowly back and forth, her head held low, her tail swishing in the air behind her. “I thought we were friends. I really thought we were. I mean, when the six of us went into the forest together, and you were alone in the castle, facing down Nightmare Moon by yourself, and the rest of us were rushing up the steps to get to you—I was scared, Twi. I don’t like admitting it, but honest to goddesses, I was scared. Because even though I’d only just met you, you seemed cool… like somepony I could be friends with… like somepony I could trust.”

“I really thought we were friends. How could the Elements of Harmony have worked for us if we weren’t…?”

Rainbow whipped around on her, tears flinging off her face. “W-Well, how can I argue that, right? You’re the genius, after all! You’re the expert on the magic of friendship!”

Twilight shrank back. There was something barbed, something poisonous dripping in her voice. Rainbow furiously dried her eyes on the back of her hoof. She started pacing again.

“And then, everything that came after. When you raced against me and A.J. in the Running of the Leaves, and you beat me, I was mad at myself, sure! But I was also super proud of you for placing fourth. I was impressed! When I flew in the Best Young Flyer Competition, I felt nervous. But it meant the world to me to know that you were in the audience. That you were there to root for me and cheer me on.”

Her voice shriveled to a whisper. “When I broke my wing, and I was stuck in that hospital, and y-you… you opened my eyes to how cool reading was, and Daring Do… I… I really thought I had a connection with you. I really thought that… that we were friends.”

“That time you hooked me up with a ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala… I was so grateful to you for it.” Rainbow gave a snort. “I was such an idiot. It’s not like that ticket even meant anything to you. You coulda asked for ten tickets, a hundred, a thousand, and Celestia still woulda hooked you up. You and Celestia were always so close, after all—Twilight Sparkle, prized protégé of the princess herself! Twilight Sparkle, the pony who had everything and it still wasn’t enough for her!”

Rainbow looked up at her. Her eyes were pools of liquid fire. Like twin stars, blazing at her.

Tears were streaming down Twilight’s face. Every pleading word she spoke was ringing with disbelief. A part of her brain was still trapped on the thin slice of reality where this wasn’t happening to her right now.

Rainbow jabbed out a hoof. “You wanna know what I think? I think you’re a BUCKING LIAR!”

“You’re not really my friend! You don’t give a DAMN about me! You NEVER DID! The only one you EVER cared about was Celestia!”

“ISN’T IT? When Celestia told me she wanted me to go to the Summer Sun Celebration, and we got into a big argument, and afterwards I came to you for a FRIEND—did you hesitate for ONE SECOND before you took Celestia’s side? Did you think about ME and what I WANTED? Or did you appoint yourself to be her ace in the bucking hole? Her second line of fire, so you could pressure me into doing whatever SHE wanted?”

The accusation sent Twilight’s mind whirring. She barely even remembered that conversation, but it must have stuck out to Rainbow Dash. She fumbled for some way to defend herself. “I—I don’t—”

“And all the other stuff you PRETEND you did for me! How much of it were you ACTUALLY doing for CELESTIA? All so you could score a few extra points with her! So you could prove what a good and loyal student you were while you were STABBING ME BETWEEN THE WINGS!”

As she worked herself up more and more, Rainbow’s face twisted with rage. She took another step forward, and Twilight, another step back.

“When you agreed to come to Canterlot and teach me magic! Did you do it for ME? Because you actually CARED about me, as a FRIEND? Or did you only do it because that’s what Celestia WANTED you to do?”

“Don’t even TRY to defend yourself! Celestia snapped her hooves, and YOU CAME RUNNING! Just like you ALWAYS DO!”

Rainbow’s wings puffed up, looming over her like a predator. Twilight wilted under her. She felt a sinkhole opening up in her heart.

But Rainbow wasn’t about to stop. The symphony of anger inside of her was playing forte now. It was the release of a deep, long-building resentment; a purge of darkness.

“And all the times you made me feel like an IDIOT!” Rainbow seethed. “The snide remarks at our magic lessons! The tests I had zero chance of passing! You practically called me stupid! How could it possibly be ME, out of all the ponies in the ENTIRE WORLD?”

“YOU NEVER EVEN TRIED!” Twilight finally latched onto a defense. Fury began to burrow itself inside her, tunneling into her soul. “You NEVER did the reading! You NEVER put in the effort! The only thing you did was GOOF OFF! EVERY SINGLE DAY!”

Rainbow raged, “Every time you TORE ME DOWN for sticking one HOOF out of line! For saying the wrong thing, sitting in the wrong chair—”

Rainbow’s chest heaved. In her weakness and poor health, she had to reach for a nearby chair to steady herself, to keep her legs from crumpling underneath her. If Twilight felt any pity, she didn’t give a sign.

Even so, Rainbow wasn’t anywhere close to bottoming out yet. She looked more wolf than pony as she kept up her assault:

“YOU HAD EVERYTHING! I HAD NOTHING! While I was eleven years old and ORPHANED, you practically had Celestia for a SECOND MOM! All I did was come into her life for ONE MONTH, and WHAT? You thought I was gonna STEAL HER AWAY FROM YOU? Is that how a FRIEND is supposed to behave? IS THAT ALL OUR FRIENDSHIP WAS WORTH?”

Twilight opened her mouth to say something, but Rainbow rolled right over her. “That night you followed me out to the cemetery! YOU WEREN’T THERE BY ACCIDENT, WERE YOU?”

“WHEN I WAS ON MY KNEES, CRYING OVER MY PARENTS’ GRAVES! AND YOU SPIED ON ME! YOU PRETENDED TO CARE ABOUT ME, AND YOU TOLD ME TO COME HERE! YOU TOLD ME TO LEAVE MY FRIENDS, AND MY HOME, AND EVERYTHING I HAD!”

Rainbow was trembling, the sum of all her pain and heartache, her misery and betrayal coursing down her cheeks in rivers. She didn’t even bother to hide it anymore.

“DID YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT ME ONCE? DID YOU CARE ABOUT WHAT I WAS GOING THROUGH? ABOUT WHAT YOU WERE TELLING ME TO DO? DID YOU CARE?

“OR WAS THE ONLY REASON WHY YOU TALKED ME INTO COMING TO CANTERLOT BECAUSE LUNA ASKED YOU TO? BECAUSE CELESTIA WOULD’VE WANTED YOU TO?”

Twilight locked up. She found she couldn’t speak. Only stare in mute horror as her friendship burned down right in front of her.

Those rose-colored eyes glowed with primal emotion, hard as iron; cold as ice. Rainbow jabbed a hoof at her again.

“You are the WORST FRIEND in the WORLD! All this time, I thought you were smart! Turns out, YOU’RE NOT SMART ENOUGH TO SEE PAST YOUR OWN MUZZLE!

“I DON’T NEED YOU, TWILIGHT SPARKLE! I don’t need your friendship! I don’t need you to teach me magic! I! DON’T! NEED! YOU!

“I’LL BE BETTER AT EVERYTHING THAN YOU! I’LL BE EVEN MORE AWESOME WITHOUT YOU! I’ll be better at MAGIC than you! I’ll be cooler with CELESTIA than you! AND I’LL SURE AS HAY BE A BETTER FRIEND THAN YOU EVER WERE! I HATE YOU, TWILIGHT! So just GO AWAY and LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Rainbow’s wings pumped once, twice. She tore into the air, tears glittering. Before Twilight could react, she bolted through a window and took off into the leaden, overcast sky.

That left Twilight to stand and gawk, staring at the vacated space in front of the hearth where her friend had been. She heard herself whimper.

Like day turning to night, the reality of what had just happened descended on her, and the magnitude of it—the sheer, sheer magnitude of it—at last began to register.

Her head hung. Her bangs drooped in front of her eyes. Beside her, the fire continued to pop and crackle with impervious cheer, but Twilight didn’t hear it. She was in another place altogether.

Rainbow Dash. One of her best friends. One of the ponies who showed her how important it was to have friends.

Rainbow Dash. Her fellow Element Bearer, who stood by her side through thick and through thin, against so much adversity. Against Nightmare Moon… Against Discord… Who never, ever left a friend hanging, and was always loyal and true to the end.

Rainbow Dash, whose sandy voice and riotous, guffawing laughter livened up any day. Rainbow Dash, whose self-confidence was infectious. Rainbow Dash, who could gush about Daring Do with her for hours on end, and never missed a chance to crash into her library.

She was so numb, and in such a state of shock, she barely noticed it staring back at her from out of the flames.

Her breathing hitched. She dragged a hoof across her face to wipe away the shame and dampness.

She’d made mistakes, SURE! She could SEE THAT now! All she wanted to do was move past them! Put all this awfulness behind her! But Rainbow Dash wouldn’t even let her do THAT! Rainbow Dash wouldn’t even let her get a word in EDGEWISE!

She was breathing fast now, almost on the verge of hyperventilating. Every drop of sadness transmuted to anger, running hot and loud through her veins. Every tear dried in the heat of her rising scorn.

She’d come here to apologize, and Rainbow ended their friendship without even LETTING HER! The WHOLE TIME Twilight was out looking for her this morning, she was in here, just SHARPENING HER HOOVES!

Twilight tore open her saddlepack. In an instant, Rarity’s letter was in front of her, the delicate white envelope trembling in her grasp. All these words their unicorn friend had written—apologies, good wishes, promises of friendship— Rainbow didn’t deserve ANY OF THEM!

She tried to think of a reason not to, but in that moment, the only thing she could see was RAINBOW DASH, BOASTING about being better at magic than her. RAINBOW DASH, GLOATING about being closer to CELESTIA! SMUG, ARROGANT, INTERFERING, POMPOUS—!

Twilight thrust her hoof out over the fire. Rarity’s letter dangled, suspended above the blaze.

The orange tongues lapped at it hungrily. The bottom edge began to shrivel. To molder and turn brown.

Alicorn

by Aldea Donder

11. Recriminations