Blink Again

by Amarandream


Epilogue - New Dawn

"There's another survivor over here!"

"Can she be moved?"

"I don't know. Life signs are faint, and she's lost a lot of blood. Twilight, her horn..."

"You'll just have to find a way. Cadance, Minuette, go help Starlight!"

"What about my sister?"

"Sweetie, please, go with the doctors. They'll take care of you."

"But she's not breathing!"

"Her heart's stopped, not two minutes gone. Princesses, I need help over here! Sweetie, go! Now!"

"But—"

"You'll only get in the way. Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, I need a spell to delay the onset of cerebral death. You'll have to pull magic through the portal. You can't cast it here. Discord, I need you!"

"Ah, isn't that wonderful to hear? But, of course, not even the great Lord of Chaos can bring back the dead. You know that."

"You don't have to. Do you think you could draw out the poison?"

"Not without damaging the body."

"What about transforming it into something else? Something harmless, maybe even fresh blood matching Rarity’s?"

"Hmm, well aren't you smart! Very well, I'll lend a claw, but the rest is up to you."

"That's fine. I can do this."


Light’s eyes fluttered open, only to immediately snap shut again under a harsh, white light. Or maybe it was several lights. She wasn't sure. As fuzzy as her head was, she couldn't be sure of much at all.

She tried to move, but her limbs were stiff, and she could hardly feel her outer extremities. Feel. What was that she felt? It was soft and warm and covering her like a... blanket. It was a blanket. And there was a bed too! Definitely not the pocket dimension then.

Well, that's a relief. Of course, I could still just be dead.

"Oh my stars," a feminine voice started off to her left. "She's awake. I better get Doctor Horse in here."

"No, that's alright," a more familiar voice responded from her right. "I can take it from here."

"Miss Glimmer, surely you know that's against hospital regulations."

"Nurse Redheart, please, she's going to need a friend. And if there's anything still wrong with her, I always have my magic."

"I... very well. Just let me know when you're done."

A door clicked shut, and Light tried to turn toward the source of her friend's voice, though it was still too bright to open her eyes. "Starlight,” she croaked, “is that you? Where am I?"

"Yes, it's me," Starlight responded soothingly. "You're in Ponyville General Hospital. How do you feel?"

"Woozy. Glad to be alive. Sort of having trouble believing I’m really here." She moaned as she tried to open her eyes again and had to shut them. "Why is it so bright?"

"It isn't. You've just spent so long in the dark you're having trouble adjusting. Here, let me turn it down a bit."

A moment passed before Light ventured opening her eyes again. It was still bright, but not blinding. At the very least, she could clearly see the plain, white hospital room along with a weary-eyed Starlight who looked considerably more sleep deprived than she'd sounded. Light opted not to mention that last bit though.

"Thanks... for everything. But, uh, why do I feel like this is all a dream? I mean, everything's all hazy."

"Oh." Starlight chuckled. "That would be the painkillers. You're on some pretty heavy stuff."

"I see. Was I injured?"

At that, Starlight's countenance grew far grimmer. "Twilight, I'm not quite sure how to tell you this, but you took a pretty nasty hit. In fact, if your horn hadn't been in the way of that blow, you'd probably be dead. As it is… well, maybe you should see for yourself." She opened one of several gray cabinets on the wall, then levitated out a small hoof mirror, bringing it about to face Light.

Light's mouth dropped at the sight. "My... my horn."

Starlight nodded. "I'm sorry. Most of it was destroyed by the blow, and the little that was left began sparking wildly once we got you back into a world with magic. For the safety of yourself and others, we had to remove even that last little bit."

Light couldn't respond. She just sat there numbly, staring at the mass of scars on her forehead where her horn should be.

When Light failed to say anything, Starlight cleared her throat before tentatively adding, "Well, on the bright side, the scarring should mostly fade away over time. We’ve even applied spells to help speed up the process. Oh, and Equestria’s very best counseling services have been made available to you and the others should you need it. And, of course, if there's anything I or anypony else can do to help you, just name it. We'll be there."

"Right," Light said distantly, forcing herself to look away from the mirror. "Wait, you said 'others.' There are more survivors?"

"Yes. Sweetie Belle got out with relatively minor injuries. She's since been treated, and will no doubt want to see you once she knows you're awake. In the meantime, Rarity—the one that’s been here in Ponyville—has spent every moment she can by her side, making sure the poor filly’s okay.

“As for the Rarity that was with you... well, her prognosis is less certain. We got the poison out of her and managed to restart her heart before any permanent brain damage could occur, but the amount of magic we had to pour into her was too much for her weakened body to take. She's comatose now, and we don't know if or when she'll wake up. The current plan is for Zecora to try strengthening her body with potions while Princess Luna attempts a waking spell, but if that doesn't work..." Starlight trailed off, her gaze falling to the floor.

Light opened her mouth to speak, stopped, cleared her suddenly dry throat, then continued. “I see. Do you know when Zecora and Luna are going to try waking her?”

“Tomorrow. Zecora has to get some ingredients and Luna’s still exhausted from helping power the portal into the pocket dimension. It took a lot out of us all.”

Starlight looked away, sighing. “Twilight, even if they succeed, Rarity will be scarred for life. As overtaxed as her body already was, we didn’t want to risk pouring in even more magic for non-critical treatment. Those marks may fade with assistance, but not nearly so much as yours will. And they’ll never go away. It’ll just be too late by the time she can withstand the magic.”

Light grimaced. “These injuries—they aren’t anything like my horn, are they?”

“No, nothing that bad. It’s entirely cosmetic, but extensive. And for somepony like Rarity…”

"I see. Thank you." Light took a deep breath, still trying to wrap her mind around how quickly everything had changed, the mere fact that they were out of that place at all. And suddenly she was reminded of the other conscious pony who'd escaped with her. "Hey, Starlight, could you please send Sweetie in? I believe you said she'd want to see me."

"Right. Of course." Starlight nodded and made for the exit, though she hesitated halfway out the door.

“Starlight? Was there something else?”

“No, I mean, yes. It’s just that, well, once everypony is rested up enough to open another portal, we’re going to check my own pocket dimension. To be honest, I’m scared of what we’ll find. I’ve teleported so many times, and not always while I could be considered a ‘good pony.’”

Light internally cringed, though tried to school her face into looking more optimistic. “I’m sure it will be fine. Being in a place like that tends to shift priorities. And no matter what happens, you’re still you—a good pony. Please remember that.”

“I know, but thanks. I should send Sweetie Belle in now.”

Starlight pulled the door closed behind her, and Light was left to her thoughts. It was time enough to consider what came next.

Her horn... gone. That meant no spells. No spells meant no Element of Magic. And was she even really an alicorn still? She supposed she was, but there would still be those who mistook her for a pegasus, especially if she covered her scars with her bangs. Not that she had any problems with pegasi, it just wasn't how she pictured herself. Of course, with another Twilight present—and that one having a horn—she’d no doubt lose the mantle of Princess of Friendship too.

She took a trembling breath, trying to keep calm. She was home. That was all that mattered. The rest? Superficial. She never asked to be made a princess anyway, and it would be a lot of trouble taken off. And element bearer or no, she’d still have her friends. She knew them too well to think they’d ever abandon her, even for another her.

As for her magic, well, she’d already been without magic for some time, hadn’t she? Maybe she was used to it. Maybe that’d make it easier. Maybe.

The door burst open, and a streak of white fuzz landed in Light’s bed, not quite smashing into her still recovering body.

“Light! Light! You’re alive! You’re alive!”

“Wh— huh? Sweetie, slow down just a…” Light railed off, seeing the tear-stained muzzle and trembling hooves of the little filly at her side.

“I was so scared,” the little one began half-rambling, half-sobbing. “First I thought you were dead, and Rarity too, and then suddenly there were ponies everywhere, yelling and galloping around and they all wanted me to leave with the doctors while you and Rarity still needed help and— “

“Sweetie Belle,” Light interrupted, stroking the filly’s now-clean mane. “It’s okay. I think we're safe now. It's over.”

“But th-that’s what I was trying to say,” Sweetie Belle choked out. “It was bad, but now they say they might be able to help Rarity, and when they do, everything will get so much better. We're all going to be happy, and they've already banned teleportation, and nothing like that will ever happen again.”

“I… right,” Light said at length, knowing quite well that some things might not get better. She was still trying not to think about her horn, or the fact that Luna and Zecora may very well fail to help Rarity. Or the years of therapy she was fairly sure they'd all need. "I mean, it's still going to be hard, but this,” she gave the clean hospital room a quick inspection, "is definitely an improvement."

Sweetie Belle frowned, wiping at her tears with one hoof. "An improvement? Now you're being... um, what's that word Rarity uses?"

"Buffoonish? Positively dreadful? Dour?"

"Yeah, that one."

“Heh, maybe so.” Light allowed a small smile. “And maybe this doesn’t quite feel real yet. Either way, it makes me feel better knowing you made it out. And by the looks of it, unharmed too.”

“Well,” Sweetie Belle shifted where she lay, “I was hurt, but they healed me. You look…” she eyed the place where Light’s horn once was, “worse.”

Light sighed, dryly muttering, “thanks…” under her breath.

“But,” Sweetie quickly added, “that’s okay, because I’m going to take care of you now.”

“You’re… going to take care of me?”

“Yep!” The filly nodded vigorously, once again wiping at her tears. “I still got magic, so you can count on me! You can even teach me, and I’ll cast your spells for you!” Her horn gave the tiniest spark.

Despite herself, Light smiled. Sweetie Belle’s idea had to be one of the most foalish notions she’d ever heard, and yet somehow, it was exactly what she’d needed to hear. Life would move on, she’d find some way or another to adapt, and—most importantly—it showed that she and Rarity had won. As much damage as the pocket dimension had most assuredly done, they’d succeeded in making sure Sweetie still had a life worth living, that she still had hope.

“You know what, Sweetie Belle?” Light wrapped a foreleg around the filly and hugged her tight. "I think I might just accept that offer." She eyed the growing light beneath the closed window curtains. "Now, why don't you start by channeling those open. I think I might just like to see Ponyville again."

The curtains slid open, morning sunlight filled the room, and Light was blinded for the second time that day. But at least she could finally tell it was day, and after a brief adjustment period, she could even make out the streets and structures of her home—the Castle of Friendship, Town Hall, Sugarcube Corner, Carousel Boutique, and even the hint of apple trees in the distance.

It was beautiful—even if, according to the clock on the wall, those golden rays were almost an hour late to grace Ponyville. That was okay though. Celestia probably needed her rest after all she did to help save them. In fact, Light would be sure to thank each and every pony involved personally.

For now, however, Light was content just to bask in the familiar warmth of her mentor's light.

Today would be a good day. Tomorrow? The day after? Those might be harder. But today... today was her first day in forever, and that made it good.


Gray trotted briskly down the streets of Baltimare, tilting her wide, flat-brimmed hat down to shield her silvery eyes from the late-rising sun. She never did like the sun. All hot and bright, illuminating her every movement and casting it before a thousand watchful eyes that would be shut come deepest night.

If she could have timed her ship's arrival to come at twilight rather than dawn, she would have, but such things were hard to control when you were crossing continents.

Stars, it felt like she'd been gone for much longer than just the last six months, though it wasn't as if she had much to come back to.

The cramped apartment she called home had a stale air and the front door was located not ten paces from a wall decorated with the worst kind of graffiti, but that was fine. As often as she was gone, the place had become little more than a spot to stash her things anyway.

Among those things was a pile of mail left just inside the door by the local mail carrier. She'd entrusted that stallion with her house key, so her letters weren't pilfered in her absence, then kept a second key to herself which accessed the diminutive private study. Both important security steps, given her line of work.

Gray tossed her black hat and coat over a chair, then quickly rifled through the stack of newspapers. Most of it went straight into the trash, but she did linger for a moment over an article questioning the whereabouts of author A. K. Yearling following a scrubbed book launch.

It wasn't front-page news, so clearly the public wasn't too worried. Into the trash it went.

The letters came next, and for that she entered her study, double checking to make sure the blinds blocked any view from outside. There, the stack of letters went straight onto the desk, next to a handful of odds and ends: an old sheriff's star marked with the seal of the town of Stableside, an even older essay on the dangers of teleportation—which everypony at the time had laughed off, severely damaging the reputation of the poor old stallion who authored it—and a positively ancient kettle helm with a crescent moon painted on the front.

She went through the stack methodically, carefully considering the written words of each of her informants before moving onto the next. Those that were old news were discarded the moment she was sure they contained nothing useful, while the others she tacked onto a corkboard above the desk. Besides the letters, the only other thing on that board was the eyes: a rough hoof-drawn portrait, irises shimmering gold on a field of abyssal black.

Of her newest letters, one described the sudden banning of teleportation and Celestia's unusually somber demeanor as she gave the announcement—an event that would probably be front page news even in Baltimare, come another day or two—while another letter mentioned a gathering of powerful spellcasters, the princesses included, in Ponyville for some spell that far outstripped any that had been cast in years. Yet a third letter described duplicates of certain Ponyville citizens appearing at the local hospital, while a fourth indicated that several prominent unicorns had disappeared just in the last couple of weeks.

All signs pointed to the same thing: she had to go to Ponyville. That little town was the center of it all, had been ever since the Element Bearers saved Princess Luna. If all of this was leading up to something larger, that town would be the very center of—

She blinked, suddenly noticing one last letter tucked under the old helmet. A letter that must have already been there when she came in, long before she unlocked the small room with its one and only key.

Gray reached toward the piece of paper with shaking hooves, taking notice of the plain, unmarked white envelope. It looked just like any other letter from her boss. Inside would be only a word or two, but those words would invariably lead to the changing of lives and making of fate. The least favorite part of Gray's already undesirable job.

She pried it open and read: Canterlot.

Exhaling slowly, she nodded. Ponyville was a distraction, the center of everything was Canterlot, just as it had been ever since Celestia abandoned Everfree, moved into Canter's Motte, and made it the new capital. And now something big was about to happen, something to shake the very spirit of Equestria, and it was her duty to be there.

And so, she was gone with the next train.