The wind howls dully in the distance, and dry leaves crackle underfoot. Above you, from the sky, come down quivering pillars of light, as the air rustles the stubborn leaves that break and divide it. The air is cold, but not distressingly so, especially under the thick garments you wear. A plain beanie. A scarf. An old hoodie you’d received as a gift some months back. Or was it years?
She wears a scarf too, bearing a gingham pattern in warm colors, and wrapped snugly around her neck. She had no reason to wear much else, and so she doesn’t; violet fur provides natural warmth for her small body. Her long tail swishes excitedly back and forth as she trots onward, looking with amazement at the trail of old fence posts and moss covered signs you’d run across.
“Hey, slow down!” You cry out pathetically. “I have—less legs than you…”
The princess stops at this, and peers back over her shoulder with an enthused grin. “We’re so close now, come on!”
She turns again, and resumes her journey with a pace you can’t help but feel is no less hasteful. You dip your head and smirk, watching as your shoes dwarf the muddy hoofprints leading you ahead. They leave odd imprints down on the trail—the spots where hoof and shoe merge. It makes you nostalgic in a strange way… Like being nostalgic for a dream. ‘Animal tracks’, your mind observes. ‘Horses. Like on a farm.’
“Look!” The princess exclaims. When you look up, and pry yourself from a brief lull, you find her poised before a large boulder and with her foreleg stretched outward at it.
“Oh wow!” You say in a sarcastic tone. “Did the settlers build this?”
The violet mare shoots you a flat, unamused frown. “This is ‘Guarding Rock’; which means we should be just… a… few…” She paws around at the ground as she drifts away from the boulder and back out into the trees. “Here!” You perk up and stare down at her discovery. Her hoof tip prods at what looks like an old cobblestone trail, half buried in dirt and fallen leaves. “We’re just on the outskirts, now hurry!”
The princess says it with as much excitement as a child on Hearth’s Warming—and darts off like one, too.
“Alright, just—hang on!” You say with a small chuckle, amused by the mare’s excitement. You pick up your pace as well, but are hopeless to keep on the heels of the leader. She nears a full gallop as she follows the winding trail, dodging pointy bramble and leaping over a fallen tree with ease. “Hey!” You call out, watching the violet blur grow smaller. “...Twilight!”
The first crack of thunder bellows in the distance. You reach the clearing where Twilight waits, out of breath and with your hands on your knees. The wind grows stronger as you nearly collapse, holding a finger up at Twilight while taking a moment to regain your strength. “Okay…” You say between winded breaths. “...that—wasn’t cool…” You pause your ragged breathing only to swallow, then bow your head again as you lean over the ground. “Seriously, aren’t there like, bears or something in these woods?”
Twilight utters no response. Instead, the small mare simply looks over her shoulder with a genuine smile of amazement, silently cuing you to step closer to the ledge she occupies. You smirk and exhale the remnants of a laugh, watching your footing as you approach Twilight’s side. Only once you’re standing next to her, do you see what has so firmly captured her attention.
The ledge the pair of you stand on reveals a majestic scene just beyond it, rays of broken light shimmering in between the shadows of looming clouds, and beaming over a series of rolling hills. In the center of the valley rests a modestly sized town—or, as you take a closer look—the remnants of one. It’s evident in the tattered windmills and the collapsed roofs, the empty crop fields and abandoned houses. Nobody had lived here in years. Even still, you can’t deny the allure of such a place, tucked away in a forest painted with the crisp colors of Autumn.
“Alright.” You say, adjusting the scarf around your neck a little closer to your bare chin. “Not a bad find, Twi’.”
The mare in question turns far enough to inspect your reaction, which had already passed through a phase of genuine amazement, and returned to one of vacant disinterest. Feigned as it may be.
“‘...Not bad?’” Twilight asks in disbelief.
You stifle a scoff. “Well—I mean, come on. Equestria’s a big place. I’m sure it’s not the only abandoned village out there, pretty as this one is...”
Your response draws out a long sigh from Twilight, who rolls her eyes and begins to wander near a fence with broken slats. “You’re not as perceptive as I’ve taught you to be.” Like a teacher hearing another excuse for missed school work, the disappointment in her voice is palpable.
“Well hang on a second!” You whine, jogging towards Twilight as she leaps over the fence. “I didn’t say I wasn’t going to come!”
The gentle smile on her lips returns, and she shares it with you with a sideways glance over her shoulder. “Try to keep up, okay?”
* * *
Gusts of wind snake through the fields of grass, as splotches of golden light cascade randomly down over them, offering reprieve from the gray skies that hang low. The valley’s rolling hills are surrounded by the raised golden forest the two of you had passed through, dotted with massive, arched stones, and divided by a small river with water clear enough to see straight to the bottom. Its stream babbles softly, as fallen star-shaped leaves drift lazily down its current, and water bugs dart sporadically across its surface.
Your head stays on a swivel once in town. All around you are abandoned houses and shops, moss growing through holes in the thatched rooftops, and tall grass sprouting intermittently in what you assume was once a bustling street. The land was obviously no stranger to rain, as most of the infrastructure had already bowed to its new master. Mother Nature had sprouted her vines between the cobblestone, moss and bushes spill from broken windows—you can’t help but wonder how long this had all taken to grow, as you stare curiously at a young tree already twice your size, growing in the center of a forgotten shop. Blacksmith’s, by the look of the cold stone furnace and anvil.
“So where’s this spring you were talking about?” You ask casually, as Twilight trots alongside you.
“Shh, don’t rush it!” She replies softly. “Just, try to enjoy these moments, okay?”
You snicker at her endless enthusiasm. “Sure thing, Twi’.” Your eyes begin to wander once more, passing over the tattered cloth blades of a massive windmill in the distance. It casts a long and lonely shadow over the forest behind it. “...It’s just that, when you said let’s visit a ‘town’, I expected a place more… inhabited.”
“It is inhabited!” The young alicorn insists, before suddenly brightening up, and pointing down at the muddy path ahead. “—Look!”
Your half-hearted walk stops before her. Indeed, the princess’s mud-soaked hoof points to a set of tracks in the street ahead of you. A pony had trodden through here recently. “Well, how do I know you didn’t make those earlier? This clearly isn’t your first time here.” You ask, still playfully antagonistic of the mare.
“But look, these hoofprints are of all different sizes—” She draws your attention to a particularly small set. “And look! Those are from a griffon!” Your attention is next lead to a distinctly three-toed trail in the mud.
“...Hmm… I suppose… it’s possible…” You ponder aloud, exaggerating your inspection with fingers tickling your chin. “...that you’re part of some... nerd group that visits abandoned places on weekends...”
You continue to stroke your chin and stare off to the side, knowing Twilight well enough to imagine her eyes rolling without actually having to witness it. “Come on, ‘detective’. The town square isn’t far.”
The two of you pass further down the road, wading through some particularly tall reeds that you can’t help but feel Twilight could put more effort into clearing with her magic for you. Once through, you withhold making a comment about seeing the last living resident as a toad hops away from you, and instead focus on the surrounding structures. In the middle of the ‘square’ as Twilight had put it—which actually turned out to be a grassy ring shape—is a simple well, bucket still hanging loosely by a frayed rope. The street had collapsed behind it, leaving a muddy sinkhole before a two story building that now leans worryingly inward, and flanked by other, more upright buildings on either side of it. They circle the two of you, and their crooked, shingle roofs block out most of the already fleeting sun. Only the second story of the leaning building is highlighted in its golden rays, in a way that you’d be lying to call anything less than alluring.
Even still, it appears to you now that the commercial districts of this town were in no better shape than the outskirts.
“Ponies from all over Equestria have travelled here!” Twilight explains, with the light that explaining things often brings to her eyes. “Caravans roaming for hundreds of miles, just to get a taste of the spring’s ichor!”
‘That’s right—the ichor’, you suddenly think to yourself. “Hey, yeah, is the spring nearby?”
“Patience!” Twilight snips, like she hadn’t just brought it up herself. “Look closer, over there—”
An amused smirk crosses your lips as you follow her to the next exhibit, an abandoned pub with the large front windows miraculously still intact. The fogged glass paints a lonely picture behind it, empty tables with thick melted candles, a small leak in the roof dripping onto a mossy patch in the floorboards. Twilight tries the door with her hoof, another surprise as it swings open with only a creak as the sole sign of resistance. The tiny bell above the door even still works.
“Just imagine, ponies from all walks of life, young and old; they’d spend countless hours here together, laughing over drinks, and enjoying the show together:” Barely inside the building, she nods to a hall on the immediate right, past a tattered cloth partition, and into a modest sized theatre room. A hole in the side of the building brings a haze of sunlight down onto the empty stage, spotlighting a collapsed grand piano, and the silent performance of ghosts.
“Oh, there was live music and stuff?” You eloquently observe.
The princess doesn’t waste a moment to reply. “Music. Plays. Magic Shows—the ponies here were quite fond of the arts, and indeed, never stopped performing for one another and travellers alike!”
You cock your brow as Twilight’s curious choice of words makes another show of itself. “Well, obviously they’ve stopped performing on that stage, anyway...”
“Yes, obviously the stage itself has seen better days.” The mare bites, turning in quiet frustration and forcing you to lean back so that she can cross under the arm you were still propping the door open with. “Now come on!”
You smile and shake your head, glancing one final time at the auditorium down the hall. A single blue bird flies in through the crumbling wall, breaching out of the sun’s rays, and taking perch atop an old stage light. Only then do you realize a nest had been built up there, where young beaks squeak at the return of their mother.
You decide it’s time to catch up with Twilight, gently closing the door behind you.
* * *
A soft rain trickles over you. You reach to pull the hood over your head, looking back at the dark storm clouds that now encroach the valley. Even so, the pony ahead of you canters on like nothing was wrong. “...Shouldn’t we turn back?” You call out.
She looks back over her shoulder with a bemused expression, like you were the insane one. “You want to see this, don’t you?”
One half-hearted scoff later, and you’re back to silently following the eager alicorn. As you pass through back alleys and abandoned cobblestone streets, comforted by the sound of rain misting across foliage, and the growing choir of crickets—you begin to notice something strange. The buildings in this area—residential, by the looks of it—have many of their walls painted in a myriad of colors. Murals, it seems like. Some are of ponies and places you recognize, like the unmistakable visages of Princess Celestia and Luna. The rolling, emerald hills of Sweet Apple Acres. Canterlot at night, dotted with the warm glow of lantern lights, and bustling with crowds of the elite—and, frankly, immaculately dressed.
Other paintings are less recognizable to you, and some even portray their subjects in a more… revealing light than you expected to see. But the splendor of the dense, lurid neighbourhood art remains, lit ablaze by the patchy sunlight and wandering fireflies alike. It’s like visiting a massive shrine to Equestria, and its beauty is evident even from under all of the creeping vines and tall grass that attempt to conceal it.
Your trip suddenly halts at a small house on a street corner. Your wandering gaze is first fixed to the house itself, gorgeous in its slow merge with the overgrowth, but not any more so than the ones around it. The next place you look is at Twilight, who’s practically teetering on the edge of her hooves in excitement. She smiles wide and uses a simple levitation spell to yank back the leaves growing near the base of the house, revealing a drawing made in chalk.
“Look!” She exclaims, foal-like excitement in her voice.
You take another glance at the drawing. Honestly, it’s a rather simplistic depiction of Celestia, especially compared to the ones you had seen just moments before. And the anatomy is… all over the place.
“Did you know the kid that drew this, or something?” You ask innocently. To your surprise, Twilight almost immediately grows cross.
“I drew this!” She bites.
Your voice gets caught in your throat with another quick glance back to the sketch. Princess Celestia smiles back at you with a grin like a wet noodle. “Oh, y-yeah?” Your words stumble out, forcing you to pause and clear your throat. “Yeah, it looks good, Twi-light…”
The mare huffs and allows her narrowed eyes to drift off to the side. “I never said I was an artist...”
A sudden itch on the back of your head draws your hand back there. “So… you must’ve drawn this back before this place was aband—” You’d almost forgotten about the silly game Twilight was playing. “—back when it had more ponies, I mean.”
Twilight’s frustrated blush relaxes, and her tone settles along with it. “Of course I did. It’s one of the first drawings made here, actually.”
You shake your head in confusion. “Wait, so—you’ve known about this place for years, then?”
A wandering little smirk finds its way to Twilight’s muzzle. “I was here at its founding.” She explains softly.
A slew of thoughts begin to race inside your head, but none of them form words. You stand idle, lost in the cool autumn breeze and the concert of singing insects, watching intently as your guide begins to turn away.
“Come on.” She says. “It’s time to visit the spring.”
* * *
The final leg of your trip is uphill, where the neighbourhood wilderness appears to miraculously grow denser—and taller.
Stepping into a completely shaded area, with full grown trees towering over the two of you, you estimate that the grove must have always housed nature. Perhaps you were now in the remains of a public park—one that had years of a head start over the rest of the overgrowth. The sound of the crickets and even the rolling thunder is unusually distant sounding, and after following Twilight a decent ways in, nothing but a wall of bushes and trunks and branches can be seen on the horizon. You may as well have entered another universe.
“Do you remember what I’ve said about the ichor?”
Twilight’s spontaneous comment breaking the silence draws your attention forward once more. “...Yeah.” You respond softly. “That it was used for all sorts of things—like baking, farming, and… alchemy or something?”
“Its uses are seemingly endless.” Twilight agrees, leading the two of you deeper into this sacred place. “Indeed, it can turn ordinary bread into a master chef’s recipe. Raise crops to full health in a freezing blizzard. Or, enhance the potency of any number of magic concoctions...” She stops at a thick wall of red foliage, and a strange, floral scent hits your nostrils. “...And others claim, it has no effect at all.”
The resolution of Twilight’s story leaves you with your mouth agape, and your brow arched. “...Huh?” You ask, not sure of what she was saying.
The princess smiles and continues. “The ichor’s stories are known widely across the world; travellers came from all kinds of far away lands. For some, the trip was in vain, and the ichor provided little to no relief.”
“What—” You can’t help but interject. “You said it was magic!”
The smile on Twilight’s muzzle grows a hair wider now, almost annoyingly so. “I did.” She lifts a hoof up to the shrubbery before her. “And like all magic, there’s much we don’t understand about it.” The branches are pulled down by her forehoof, and a small, natural tunnel forward is revealed to you. “Perhaps you would like to see for yourself?”
The light from the path ahead calls to you like a siren. Your head is still filled with doubts, and a part of you wants to simply turn around—walk back past the benches and lamp posts that are now obscured by a coat of vines and leaves, and put an end to Twilight’s nonsense.
But you know you couldn’t possibly give in to that part of you. Not having come this far.
You smirk and quietly scoff at Twilight, taking confident steps forward. She uses her magic to pull back more of the branches, giving you plenty of space to progress further in. The strange, dreamlike feeling from before returns to you, if only for a moment, and you’re suddenly in another time and place. Déjà vu.
As you emerge from the tunnel, swatting the last of the branches out of your way, the sight before you brings a moment of pause.
The smiling figure of a massive stone alicorn stands before you, wings unfurled, and muzzle to the sky. Thin trails of smoke curl around her hooves, the embers at the end of incense sticks now revealing to you the source of the floral scent. Pedals, bouquets, and cards rest around the statue’s pedestal too, giving the mare who’s depicted in it an almost biblical presence.
Upon closer inspection, however, the masonry work appears to be more than just a statue alone. Underneath it is a large, multi-tiered series of stone basins, culminating in the swimming pool sized ring at the base. With growing excitement, and a fair bit of confusion still, you navigate slowly to the stone ledge, despondent to the crackling of dry leaves underfoot. You rest a hand upon the fountain, and stare.
A new trail of rustled leaves sounds from behind you. Twilight approaches the shrine as slowly as you had, and stops mere inches to your side.
“Is it…” Your words pierce the silence. “...invisible magic ichor?”
The two of you look down at the fountain’s floor, which is only stained with the presence of a strange material long since passed. Marked by no more than a memory.
“Hmm.” Is all the princess offers you, frustratingly so. “That’s odd.”
She quietly backs away from the monument, and only regards you with another smile and wave of her forehoof. “Well, should we keep exploring?”
Just as she turns to head off again, you decide you’ve had enough. “Twilight.” You call out, in a strangely assertive tone. The mare in question stops dead in her tracks, attentive, and still baring her grin. “...I love that you have a special connection with this place, and all the stories you get to tell—really, I do.” You take your hand off of the cold stone, stepping closer to Twilight as the other stays burrowed in your hoodie pocket. “But... that’s all they’re gonna be to me. Stories. And, as happy as I am to see that you’re so happy to stroll through these memories, I feel like I can’t live up to the expectations you have of me. These aren’t my memories. I just feel like… a trespasser.”
A small adjustment in her posture, and the slip of her smile reveals Twilight’s change of heart, the playful teasing she had adopted for most of the trip giving way. “You’re right. This place has certainly seen better days, and… it will never be rebuilt to what it once was.”
You exhale a sigh of sweet relief. “Well thank you for finally saying that.”
“But that’s okay!” Twilight blurts out, regaining the lead of your conversation. “After all, nothing really stays the same forever.”
The princess takes a casual step forward, and purses her lips for a story you can’t help but feel will go on for a while. “You know, when I first came to Ponyville, I felt an awful lot like you do now. After all, I was nearing the end of my studies in Canterlot, and frankly, the small town of Ponyville didn’t seem to have much to offer me in the way of career opportunities.”
You suck air through your teeth as your face cringes inward. “Oooh, come on. They have a great postal service.”
“Regardless,” Twilight is quick to proceed, ignoring your interjection. “I felt out of place, and… it didn’t help that Ponyville’s story seemed to already have been written.”
The stone of the fountain is cold against your elbow as you lean against it, and ask the first thing that comes to mind. “What do you mean?”
Twilight shrugs. She looks around the sacred grove as if the words she’s searching for might be written somewhere out in the ruins. “Well, my soon-to-be friends had already long since known each other. They had their own aspirations, and relationships, and accomplishments—Applejack was already picking up the mantle as owner and caretaker of her farm, and Rarity was the proud manager of her own boutique. I thought I had nothing to contribute, and nothing to gain.”
A long sigh escapes your lips, as you stare down at the fiery canvas of leaves at your feet.
Twilight resolves her story with a soft and warm tone of voice. “...I don’t think I need to tell you how wrong I was about that.”
After a small lapse in the conversation, filled with the sounds of rain dripping softly off the leaves, and the occasional rustling of foliage around you, you bring your head back up to look at the mare with your own somber glance.
“Ponyville isn’t abandoned.” You reply quietly. “Its story is still being written everyday.”
Twilight stares back at you with soft, gentle eyes unblinking, the palette of sun-touched reds and yellows and earthy greens reflected in her iridescent gaze. “It is.” She responds plainly. “But not just by its residents.”
The odd little smirk on Twilight’s muzzle vanishes from view, as she turns and takes it with her. This time, she didn’t have to say anything. You know to follow.
The last of an incense stick burns with a subtle crackle, as the two of you enter the tall grass behind it. Its charred remnants coil and hang loosely behind the glowing ember, before falling and being lost to the pile of ash below.
* * *
You keep a close eye on Twilight’s dark tail ahead of you, as you push through the grass and branches. The constant struggle between overgrowth and urban decay had a clear winner in this region of the town, as even a visible path ahead seems to be too much to ask for. You are entirely at the mercy of the mare before you; your shining beacon.
Eventually, this too is jeopardized.
“...Hey…” You call out. Your pace quickens alongside your heart rate, as the vertical foliage begins to obscure more of the scampering alicorn beyond. “...Twilight, wait up!”
Your cries fall on deaf ears, and a great fear begins to loom.
The rumbling of the storm returns, hair-raising humidity and electricity filling the air around you. The tall grass starts to blow, and there’s a sudden deluge of creaking noises as stalks bend in submission to the wind.
“...Hey…” You had intended to shout for your friend, but halfway through forcing the words out you realize your lungs simply don’t have the strength. A hand is thrown to your chest, clasping over your beating heart as the strength in your legs is next to falter. Leaves lost in the wind surround you. Your fingers sink into the mud. You turn your head skywards, only to gaze at a gray sky framed by the wavering tips of the surrounding foliage. Lightning tears through the canvas like a knife to cloth.
Overwhelmed, your heavy head falls back towards earth, where you can take a moment to try and regain your breath. You focus on the roots and pebbles, the brown, crackling leaves whipped and rustled by the violent wind. The mud is caked over your right hand, where you had stabilized yourself; but it’s not your fingers that had made the deepest creases. You lift your hand up slowly, and stare at the markings left behind with a keen eye.
Indeed, your trembling palm had made a fractured indent in the dirt, but it’s in the center of another. A hoofprint.
You glance up, and your eyes instinctually follow the trail ahead of you. Twilight’s path is still visible.
You use your newly stabilized breath to let out a sigh. Keeping a close eye on the hoofprints, you stand back to your feet, and hopelessly brush the dirt you’d collected off along your pants leg. The storm was far from settled, it appeared—but at least you now knew the way forward.
Your first step sinks into the mud right over an old hoofprint, and the two tacks merge. Further and further you follow the tracks, a steady pace, and with caution not to stray from the path. You barely even pay heed to the storm, after a while.
With a final parting of leaves, your soggy figure emerges from the underbrush, and into a clearing. And in the center of it, a violet alicorn paces nervously.
“Twilight…” You call out, just loud enough for your voice to be heard over the rain.
The mare in question spins around almost instantly, disrupting the ring of tracks she’d trodden into the dirt. “There you are!” She exclaims. The two of you meet as she canters back towards the edge of the forest, and you stagger before her.
“...I thought I had—” You begin, looking back over your shoulder as you collect your thoughts. You couldn’t even recall how long you’d been in there.
The wide-eyed look of concern Twilight gives you redirects your attention back to her. It feels difficult to hold it there, and so you don’t; and instead your soft gaze simply falls along the leaves beneath your feet. “...I don’t wanna lose you.” You admit quietly.
At this, Twilight exhales an anxious breath, and rears up to offer you a warm embrace, wrapping her forehooves around your waste and resting her head against you. “I’m so sorry, I never should’ve had us take a shortcut!” She says with a warm breath that glances over you. Without much thought, you slowly raise your hand to rest it on the mare’s shoulder, returning the embrace and welcoming the affection.
“It’s alright.” You assure her, and a tiny smirk follows. “Just… please tell me we’re at our last stop...”
Twilight sniggers into your hoodie, before pulling back and offering you a confident smile and answer. “Yes.” She says. “We’re here.”
Where ‘here’ was exactly you had yet to determine, but you get your chance to answer that as the two of you break the hug, and you take a look at your surroundings. You’d obviously just made it out of the park, as the trees had gone back to a reasonable size. Similarly, you find signs of urbanization once again: round wooden tables inside a fenced perimeter, crates, barrels, candles and lanterns. Many of them are actually lit.
Besides the surprising appearance and color range of the lanterns (red, green, and blue flames stand out in particular), the next point of interest your eyes are drawn to is the wooden structure behind them. Creeping vines and decay had warped its sign beyond legibility, but under it, in a pathway into the building, there’s another curious source of light. It’s obscured by the hanging plants from the roof, and pouring out from around a corner, but unmistakable all the same. You can swear the warm glow is even occasionally accompanied by laughter.
Twilight begins to trot off towards the tunnel, before pausing and looking over her shoulder at you. She motions at the entrance with her head, and wordlessly invites you to join her there with a smile that could rival the warmth of Celestia’s sun.
It isn’t a difficult decision to make. You keep your back to the bramble behind you, and wander into the restaurant with Twilight, parting the natural hanging veil on your way. Each step closer to the tunnel inside brings with it an extra tinge of curiosity and excitement, as signs of life become more evident with every echo of laughter. Despite the fact that you appear to be descending into a literal cave, even the air seems to beckon you forward with a warm embrace. You don’t even notice the strange, milky blue puddles at your feet as you enter.
A spiraling stone staircase guides you deeper, and before you know it, the secrets of the valley are finally revealed. Beyond a grand stone archway lies an entire extension of the village, not quite the size of its surface counterpart, but no less miraculous in its grandjour. The cavernous ceilings are adorned with hanging roots and lanterns, numerous pegasi and griffon sailing past their light. The ground far below is splintered and diverse, music and cheers emanating from one raised platform, a woodworking station crewed by no less than a dozen ponies below that, and in the distance, what appears to be a modest sized garden, shrouded by a flock of butterflies and ponies alike.
Perhaps most impressively, every part of the newly discovered camp is draped with some kind of nature, the cracks in the high ceiling apparently providing enough light and moisture to nurse the expanse of grass, bushes, flowers and vines below. The somewhat haunting beauty of life on the surface had crept down into this lively expanse, but instead of admitting defeat or fighting against it, the settlers down here had seemed to embrace its curious design.
You don’t get a chance to study the real centerpiece though, until your foot slips into a crease on the stone below. A splash accommodates the mostining of your shoe, and the appearance of the puddle immediately stands out to you. It clouds and swirls with a mysterious blue hue, and appears to even shine with a faint glow surrounding it.
Raising your head, you realize the fluid is all around, surrounding the commotion as to make the underground camp an island in its bosom. It drips down from above in some areas, and pours out in pearlescent sheets in others. The more central the ichorfall, the more volume it appears to have, with a web of cyan rain leading to the center of the town and washing over a great fountain. The stonework depicts Canterlot Mountain, and the fields of Equestria below it, with ichor rushing down the display in little rivers and waterfalls, before pooling in a great basin, and running outward in carved channels.
Twilight had spoken true. This place was never abandoned.
“Hey.” She calls out casually, catching up to you from behind. “What do you think?”
Senses still a bit overwhelmed, you first only manage to scoff. “Yeah...” You mutter, eyes glued forward. “...I guess it is pretty incredible.”
Twilight smirks, and leaps at one last opportunity to be smug while overlooking the festivities with you. “Thought so.” She remarks.
You stare in disbelief as a small group of friends gather around a distant campfire, one stallion holding up a guitar and beginning to strum, while another mare plays a beat with a set of hoof drums. Twilight almost goes unnoticed, as she strides ever so closer to your side. “...You won’t lose me, you know.” She says quietly.
Your head suddenly pivots to the side, looking down at the pony who’s now mere inches from your leg. She continues before you think of anything to say. “I’m not saying that you need to stay, but… I can tell you that I’ll always be here for you.” While her voice nearly lowers to a whisper, the genuineness in her wide eyes and crooked little smile is unmistakable.
“We all will.”
Twilight’s offer is accompanied by an outstretched hoof, held chest high and in waiting. Lost for words, you nod your head in silent acknowledgement, and guide your hand out for a gentle, heartfelt connection. And together, the two of you stare out upon what many undoubtedly still called home. Perhaps you could as well.
* * *
Outside, the sun shines down on the quiet village of memories—over the leaves blowing through the empty streets, the grass swaying from the rooftops, and the murals fading with time. Even so, those golden rays cascade down upon the land, just as they do for Ponyville.
It’s as if the storm had never come. And the end was never near.