“Sorry that took so long.” Twilight Velvet blushed as she passed drinks to her gathered guests.
“No apologies needed. Dad and I were just discussing a few of the more interesting things happening up at the castle.” Shining Armor tore the straw from the side of the juice box, plunging the sharpened edge into the small cutout on top.
“Like what?” Velvet returned to her place on the dusty brick.
“Did you hear about the renovations going on in the Gardens?”
“I did. I haven’t been able to go up and see it lately, though. Maybe the two of you could give us a tour, when you have time,” she suggested.
“Sounds like fun.” Twilight fluttered her wings, landing softly on the couch cushion. “It seems like we’ll never have free time, though. Not if the ponies of Equestria have any say in it.”
Her parents laughed. Shining smiled, though it looked a little strained.
“Mom, Dad told me that you guys have been cleaning out the attic lately.”
“I’ve been cleaning up the attic. Your father has been digging through every little nook and cranny looking for anything interesting in the clutter.”
“And I found some neat little mementos.”
“Which reminds me. I already told Twilight. Shiny, your father and I have a gift for you.”
“Sounds like fun.” Shining slurped greedily at his juice.
“Night Light, would you be a dear and fetch them from our room?”
“Of course.” He set his drink on the table, making sure to position it properly on one of the coasters laid out across the glass. The chair swayed slightly as he pushed himself up and out of the seat. Each stair creaked as he made his way to the second level of the house.
“Shining,” Velvet started, “have you been taking care of your sister?”
“Yeah,” Shining answered, slightly offended. “Why?”
“We worry about you two. You understand how parents can be now, don’t you?”
“A lot changed when Flurry arrived. Needless to say, I understand you and Dad a lot better now. It’s a whole new world.”
“And Cadence?”
“She’s been handling parenthood with a bit more grace. It’s like she was made to be a mother.”
“Speaking of which.” She turned to her daughter. “How have you been handling things lately?”
“I . . . can’t complain, I guess.” Twilight shrugged. “Being a princess isn’t always as glorious as it looks. If it weren’t for the wings and castle, I’m not sure I’d even notice half the time.”
“I’m back,” Night Light announced as he strode confidently through the kitchen archway, two thick, leather-bound books tucked under a foreleg. “What’d I miss?”
“Mom was asking me about Flurry and Cadence,” Shining explained.
“They’re doing well, I hope.” Night Light laid the book out on the table before settling back into his plushy seat.
Shining nodded. “I was saying that parenthood is quite an experience.”
“I can only imagine. You and Twilight were tough enough to raise, and you didn’t have wings. What about you, Twilight? Any stallions in your life I should be aware of?” He raised an eyebrow threateningly.
Twilight giggled at her father’s attempt at intimidation. “No stallions, Dad.”
The specificity of the answer didn’t offer much comfort, but he didn’t ask a follow-up.
“Enough of that.” Velvet dismissed him with a wave. “Why don’t you two take a look at your gifts.”
Shining and Twilight plucked their presents from the table. He tried to look enthused but had far less experience than Twilight when it came to receiving books as gifts. Meanwhile, Twilight admired the fine craftsmanship of the cover. Fake leather, obviously, but extremely well-made fake leather. The spine felt solid beneath her touch.
“Go on, open them up,” Velvet pushed.
While Shining simply chose a page at random, Twilight opened the front cover to admire the first page. The only mark looked like a photograph. Her parents, her brother, and she herself all beamed up from the photo, trapped forever in a moment of youthful joy.
“A scrapbook?” Shining asked, flipping to the next page.
“We found our old family scrapbook in the attic. We decided to have copies made, so both of you could take it with you. Something to remember your doddering old parents while you’re off ruling the country.” Night Light motioned with a hoof, trying to play cool while hiding the misty look in his eyes. Velvet wore her emotions on her sleeves, her hooves pressed together in front of her face, partially hiding the enthusiastic grin splayed out across her features.
“They’re wonderful,” Twilight exclaimed, marveling at every new memory unlocked by the details in each picture.
“We thought you’d like them,” Velvet nodded.
“I hate to say it, but we might need to be heading out, Twilight,” Shining interrupted.
Twilight glanced toward the clock. A bit past midday. Luna would be expecting her soon.
“Aww, already?” Night Light frowned.
“Sorry.” Twilight closed her book, tucking it beneath her wing. “Shining is right. We should be getting back. We’ll try to visit again before we leave.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Velvet nodded as she and Night Light led their children back into the entry hall.
“We love you guys. Promise us you’ll take care of yourselves,” Night Light added.
“We will,” Shining promised.
“And don’t forget what we talked about, Twilight.” Velvet and her daughter locked eyes, a simple understanding passing between them, causing Shining a little discomfort.
“I won’t. You can count on it.” Twilight smiled rebelliously.
And with a final parting goodbye and affirmations of love, the family split. Velvet and Night Light waited on their porch, waving madly until their children were out of sight around the next corner.
At this time, the streets of Canterlot were flooded with ponies of varying class. Groups of nobles congregated on the sidewalks, blocking traffic while they discussed whatever gossip had broken that very morning. Store owners and workers called out for customers, shouting about the daily specials and sales. More than once, Twilight felt the urge to stop in at a restaurant, curious about whatever new dish they’d prepared. Carriages rolled through the street, bobbing on the uneven cobblestone.
More than a few ponies recognized the two royal siblings on their exodus. Despite the unease between them, they managed to put their differences aside to keep the illusion of peace. Only when the golden palace gates came into view, when the crowds had dispersed to attend to whatever important errands needed doing, did Twilight and Shining drop their act.
“You told Mom, didn’t you?” Shining asked, not bothering to look at his sister.
“Is that a question or an accusation?”
Shining stepped to the side, blocking Twilight’s path, forcing her to notice him.
“It’s supposed to be a secret. Luna’s orders.”
“She knew you were lying. She figured she had a better chance asking me about it.”
“The cookie jar story?” Shining sighed.
“The cookie jar story,” Twilight confirmed.
“So, what exactly did you tell her?”
“Everything.”
“For Celestia’s sake, Twilight. Why would you do that?” Shining pressed a hoof to his forehead, quelling an ache forming between his eyes.
“What was I supposed to do?”
“Just tell her a bit? Change the subject? Tell a better lie?” Shining suggested.
“I wanted someone to talk to, alright? I’m going crazy lying to everyone.” Twilight emphasized her point by rising on her hind legs, throwing the rest wildly into the air.
“You should’ve talked to me.”
“Oh no. I’m not falling for that one again.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” He asked, offended.
“What do you think it means, Shiny?” Twilight barked. “I tried talking to you, remember? It didn’t end well for either of us.” Twilight ducked past him.
“Look at me, Twilight.”
With a groan, she did as she was told. The spark of rivalry in their shared glares could melt metal.
“What, Shining? Have more orders for me? Another line in the sand? Or are you just going to send me to my room for disobeying you?” Twilight advanced on Shining, forcing him back through sheer frustration.
“It’s not like that, Twilight,” he argued.
“Then what is it like, Shining? I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not a little filly anymore. I’m a princess of Equestria. The Princess of Friendship. You don’t get to order me around.”
“Calm down, Twilight.” Shining scanned his surroundings, praying no other ponies walked close enough to overhear his sister’s meltdown.
“No. I’m tired of being calm. I’m tired of being told what to do. From you. From Cadence. From Luna. I’m sick of it. I’m taking charge of my life, Shining Armor. I’m making my own decisions.”
She pressed a hoof into her brother’s chest-plate, producing a hollow ring.
“And right now, I’m making my choice. I choose Chrysalis.”
“Enough,” Shining snapped.
With Twilight’s fury subsiding, she realized what she’d done, evident by the look of pained terror on her brother’s visage. She slunk backwards, trying her best to ignore the nagging sense of guilt in her stomach.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped like that,” Twilight apologized.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re right. I’ve been treating you like a child.”
Shining lowered his head.
“In my mind, you’re still just my baby sister. I guess I haven’t been paying attention, though.”
“Shining . . . “
“Chrysalis is dangerous, Twilight. I didn’t want to see you hurt. But you’re grown up: that’s your mistake to make.”
“It’s not a mistake.”
“If you say so. I don’t expect Luna will take the news well.”
“I’ll deal with Luna myself.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Twilight.”
With that, Shining pressed past his sister, into the front courtyard of the Castle. Twilight stood on the sidewalk, her knees shaky, her stomach turning. On the verge of a nervous breakdown, Twilight squeezed her eyes shut.
In the darkness of her head, she saw the creature that had once haunted her nightmares. The blackened shell and piercing green eyes of the changeling queen. Even her image brought comfort. Her nerves settled, reinforced with a steeled determination.
“I won’t let them take you from me, Chrysalis. I promise.”