"—And this, Twilight Sparkle, was your predecessor."
Serene, calm, collected, cool, Celestia stepped back and allowed her tale a moment to sink in. The wings had changed her student profoundly, but Twilight was still Twilight in all the parts it mattered most. Her heart and soul remained unchanged. At the moment, the young mare was a wide-eyed filly once more, completely lost and overcome. She would recover, of course. The young mare wore her emotions so openly, and with such warmth.
There could be no doubt that she was worthy.
"Ficklewick was—" Words completely failed Twilight, and the young mare began to sniffle.
Head high, Celestia cast her warm gaze upon the bronze bust of Ficklewick. One of the many points of interest in the hedge maze, the plaque merely mentioned that he was the father of modern psychology. But that was a lie of omission. Celestia knew him as so much more. He had laid down the foundation of friendship, and all of his hard work culminated with Twilight. If Ficklewick had laid the foundations, then Twilight was the capstone of a great work, finally finished.
As for Celestia, she considered herself the custodian of this great work.
"The story can't be over!"
"Twilight, you—"
"No!" Stomping her hoof, Twilight's stubbornness manifested in the form of a squinty stare and a protruding lower lip. "You only told the story's start! You can't do that! There's rules! You can't tell a story without an end. You just can't. There's so many unanswered questions! You told me how it started, and how it ends with me, but there's so much more to be told! What happened to Lamp? What about Miss Combes? And the colt… what of him? I need to know!"
With a sigh, Celestia understood. Of course Twilight needed to know. This was a tale of friendship after all, a friendship that had changed the very fortunes of Equestria. A friendship that had influenced one-thousand years of history. This was the friendship that would eventually return and restore Luna, all because of what it represented. Slowly, with all of the gradual, unhurried majesty of the rising sun, it occurred to Celestia that Twilight was not the end of this story—but merely another chapter.
The last time Celestia had seen her student this distraught, this disturbed, was when it was bedtime, and a story had to be put on hold. If Twilight had a failing… this had to be it. A flood of memories flowed over Celestia like a raging torrent but her face showed no sign of the inner turmoil. No emotion marred the alabaster perfection of her visage. The sunny optimism found within her rose-hued eyes did not diminish.
Yet, her mood worsened when she thought of her own failings, of which there were many.
"I was a fool."
"Princess Celestia?"
Still the most faithful of students, Twilight looked upwards with warm, sincere concern. Where to begin? Celestia wondered how she might teach this lesson. How did one plan for this? Twilight was as worshipful as ever, which somehow made it worse. Ficklewick, too, was every bit as worshipful. Always patient. Attentive. She'd taken him for granted. It wasn't until after he was interred in his tomb that she'd understood his vital importance, and what he had offered not just to her, but Equestria—and the world as well.
"Ficklewick was the wellspring of Equestria's most valuable, most precious resource. Friendship. I squandered everything. My failures are many. There were many failures in those dark days after I lost my beloved sister." She swallowed, but the lump stuck in her throat did not go away, it only grew larger. "He had all the answers. He knew. He knew. And I failed to listen. I try to tell myself that the circumstances were impossible. We were a fledgling nation with many enemies. With my sister gone, we were seen as weak. So weak.
"Our enemies came like vultures to a carcass. While I was trying to deal with all these different crises, Ficklewick would come to me with these ideas, these notions, these things he admitted were hunches, and I barely paid him any mind. I had chosen him to be my advisor, and then I completely ignored his advice. I made so many excuses. But he had all of the answers, even then. I like to tell myself that I was blinded and deafened by grief."
"Princess Celestia…"
"He knew, Twilight. How he knew I'll never know. But he knew how to revive and restore the Elements of Harmony. Ficklewick knew how to bring back the lost Element of Magic. With friendship. He tried to tell me. Over and over, he would try to bend my ear, and I was always too busy with some calamity that was sure to be the end of Equestria. Ficklewick was my friend, Twilight, a good and dear friend… and I ignored him just like I did Luna. It was only after he died that what he had to say was finally heard, but he was no longer around to answer questions. I wish things had been different."
"Princess Celestia… I'm so sorry."
Twilight wouldn't say it unless it was true. After taking a deep breath, Celestia somehow managed to calm herself just a little, though her heart still raced and blood pounded in the depths of her delicate, slender ears. Twilight's sincerity and earnestness reminded Celestia of so many others that came before, other students… other friends. Mere moments ago, Twilight had been upset because she wanted to know more of the story, but now, all of her attention was focused on Celestia's well-being.
"Ficklewick only found the barest hint of proof," she began, and her heart warmed when her student's ears pricked in the ever-so-familiar way. "The cold that Lamp felt that day… it was… it was something but Ficklewick never ascertained what it was, only that it was something malevolent. Lamp felt it and just as her light spell had once driven off the supernatural darkness that threatened to consume her, it adapted to fend off the supernatural cold. How and why it adapted, Ficklewick never fully found out."
Her eyes grew distant, as they often did when she had to see a thousand years into the past.
"Perhaps it was some leftover residual magic from the Windigo Winter. I don't think we'll ever know. Ficklewick found witnesses and he spoke with them. He tried to find out why they did nothing. They too, felt the cold, and none of them could quite say why they just stood there, frozen in place. This wasn't much proof, but for Ficklewick, it was confirmation of everything he believed in. He buried himself into his work and spent the rest of his days seeking answers to some unknown question. Ficklewick lived for a very long time. I don't know what kept him going. The Circle accused him of lichery."
"Lichery?" asked Twilight.
"There were awful accusations, Twilight. Terrible things were said. The Circle was very influential. They accused Ficklewick of prolonging his life through unnatural methods. They said that Ficklewick consumed the memories of others so that he might cheat death. Memory magic was outlawed because of these accusations, and liquid libraries were sought out so that they might be destroyed. A lot of knowledge was lost forever."
"That's… horrible!" Wide-eyed, Twilight lapsed into speechlessness.
Closing her eyes for but a moment, Celestia allowed her mind to drift back to those chaotic times. So much was lost. Ficklewick was still remembered—but the Circle was practically lost to obscurantism, a victim to their own practices of censorship and omission. Good riddance. When she opened her eyes, she looked down at the bust of Ficklewick, and somehow, she was able to smile. It was like the sun parting obnoxious clouds and spearing the earth with crepuscular rays.
"I am still alive," she said to her student, "and I still remember."
Somewhere, lost within the leafy walls of the hedge maze, a group of foals giggled. Celestia rapidly recovered her sense of self, her sunny optimism, and her belief that things turned out the way that they did for a reason, even if she herself did not understand those reasons. With this came the return of her humility, and with humility came serenity. These were the things that mattered, the truly important things that defined her as a pony.
"What became of Lamp?" asked Twilight, who unceremoniously plopped her backside down onto the grass so that she might have a good sit. It was an exceptionally Twilight thing to do—the very epitome of Twilightisms—and stood out in sharp contrast to Princess Celestia's poise and posture. She looked up at her teacher, eager, still concerned, but most of the severe worry was gone from her face.
"I miss Lamp," Celestia blurted out before she realised what she was saying. A deep breath. Then another. Thinking this far back took effort. "Eventually, she became Street Lamp, and she was a welcome sight on the streets of Canterlot. Her light and warmth helped others to feel safe and secure. She became the Night Captain of the Watch." Another deep breath and this time, a fuzzy image of the mare materialised, enough so the mind's eye could see.
"Nopony else wanted the job. It was a demanding position… one that placed a pony in the dark. Street Lamp excelled in the Watch. She knew the streets, she knew the hustles, she knew all of the shakedowns. Ever Ficklewick's student, she used her power, position, and influence in the Watch. She became the chief orphan wrangler, and she had the Watch raise unwanted foals.
"This changed everything. The foals raised by the Watch… little earth ponies, little pegasus ponies, and little unicorns… they saw the Watch as their family. As their tribe. It changed them in some great fundamental way and Ficklewick studied them. He kept detailed notes. But they grew up in the Watch and it was their tribe. Lamp didn't know it, but she was the pony most directly responsible for one of Equestria's greatest assets. Eventually, those foals grew up and they would become the EUP. The Watch became the Guard, an example of unity in action."
"And that's how we got the Wonderbolts!"
"Correct, my most faithful student. That is how we were graced with the Wonderbolts."
For a second, Twilight was a foal again, a tiny filly bursting with energy and eager to please. Celestia saw her quite clearly, but with the blink of an eye, the illusion vanished and Twilight was an adult mare once more—one that sat in the grass with her hind legs kicked out in a manner most unprincessly. It was Celestia's most sincere hope that Twilight would not change, because right now, at this moment, she was the best possible version of herself.
"Street Lamp did amazing things with the precious few years she had—"
"She died?"
A sad smile threatened to ruin Celestia's solemn expression.
"All ponies die, Twilight. But yes, she died rather young, at least by our modern standards."
"How old was she?"
"About late twenties. Maybe thirty at the most."
"That's awful." Barrel hitching, Twilight began to sniffle. "Did she… did she go down fighting?"
Seeing her student's distressed state and recalling these memories caused an ache in Celestia's heart, and she allowed herself to be distracted for but a moment by the sounds of life in the hedge maze around her. Students and teachers roamed these leafy corridors, no doubt doing what she and Twilight were doing. A great many lessons were taught among these topiaries.
"She died foaling, Twilight. Which caused no end of upset to Miss Combes. Ficklewick's housekeeper was left embittered by the experience. I guess, in a sense, she did go down fighting, because she held on long enough to foal a wonderful little pegasus into the world. His name was Rescue Robin, and I… well, I still don't know how I feel about him. He was my most trusted associate and my nemesis."
"Nemesis? How can somepony be a trusted associate and a nemesis?"
"Rescue Robin found a way," Celestia was quick to reply. "He was raised in a household of ponies who practiced brutal honesty and regularly spoke their minds… in an era when ponies in general did not do this. Those ponies turned casual insults into an artform. They had tongues like axes and the ponies around them were but firewood for the block. He had no fear of me whatsoever. No qualms about telling me that my ideas were terrible, or that if I did this, or that, I would bring Equestria to ruin. He was a member of my exclusive retinue and one of my most trusted advisors. Mostly because he told me the truth, no matter how awful it was, or how little I wanted to hear it."
Wide-eyed, Twilight squirmed and waited.
"Once upon a time, there was a dragon, and his name was—"
"No," Twilight said, somewhat testily. "No, you'd better not switch stories on me."
So bold, her most faithful student.
"Once upon a time," she began again. "There was a dragon and his name was Icefang the Unruly. He was a great and terrible dragon, and every now and then, when he got bored, he would stop by to collect tribute. It was a small price to pay to keep the peace and all things considered, we had a rather cordial relationship.
"So one day, Icefang was spotted. These were lean times, and there wasn't much to offer as tribute. I was a bit worried about this. But my worries were greatly compounded when Rescue Robin flew off to meet with Icefang. With the fate of Equestria's future hanging in the balance, Rescue Robin challenged Icefang to a contest. A simple contest, but not a contest suited for dragons. You see, Rescue Robin challenged the great wyrm to see who could make the most friends, and naturally, with his draconic pride thoroughly pricked, Icefang agreed. Because, surely, anything a pony could do a dragon could do better."
Twilight sat in rapt wonderment.
"Almost right away, Icefang runs into problems. His first attempts to make friends turn out to be a spectacular series of embarrassing catastrophes. As it turns out, you cannot just snatch up a pony and command them to be friends. Icefang was truly baffled by social intricacies. Rescue Robin offered to help him… he offered to help the dragon win. A strange and curious friendship formed, one that Ficklewick zealously studied, because such friendships might very well be the key to Equestria's survival.
"Rescue Robin teaches Icefang how to be helpful. Beyond that, he teaches Icefang how to be kind, honest, loyal, generous, and funny. Icefang, motivated to win, accomplishes a great deal. He helps farmers build irrigation ditches. Tremendous stones are removed. Icefang helps to build castles. Cities are constructed, because even the most massive of stones are just building blocks for a dragon of that size. Ponies stopped calling him 'Icefang the Unruly' and he became just 'Icefang'.
"Eventually, Rescue Robin's clever ruse was revealed. A pony's life is so much shorter than a dragon's life… there is a magnitude of difference. And as Rescue Robin lay dying, Icefang realised that the pegasus never had a chance of winning. He also realised that he'd been duped. Outsmarted by a pony." She paused, overcome by the urge to shudder, and she had to draw a long, soothing breath to steady herself.
"Icefang understood just how precious his friends were, because all of them would die. They had short lives. It crushed him… after Rescue Robin's death, Icefang was never quite the same. He mourned his friend and he told me that he might very well be the first dragon who has ever grieved. We became friends, he and I, because I saw that he'd endured a true change of heart. I hope he wakes up soon, because I would like for you to meet him, Twilight."
"I think I'd like that," Twilight replied. "And I bet Spike would as well."
"That one friendship changed everything. Icefang acted as a diplomat of sorts, and somehow managed to convince his fellow dragons to stop sacking and pillaging Equestria. It was a turning point for us. A major threat had been mostly nullified. Friendship changed everything for the better. Rescue Robin somehow accomplished what centuries of conflict failed to bring about: a lasting peace."
"So Lamp's son took after his mother."
"Yes, Twilight. Eventually, I saw the series of events for what they truly were. A sort of ripple-effect that moved ever-forward. The magic of friendship made itself known. It started off small. A filly saved a deaf-mute colt from certain death and decides that she is responsible for him. From that friendship, an endless chain of friendships are formed, all of which made Equestria what it is today. A whole sequence of events that led to you and what you accomplished with your friends."
Nostrils aquiver, Twilight's moistened eyes became highly reflective.
"Miss Combes had her long life. She lived for a century, or thereabouts. As she aged, she only became more and more abrasive. She raised Rescue Robin and she never let him forget his mother. He got to study his mother's memories and the experience changed him profoundly. Naturally, he was best friends with his mother's dearest friend. Lamp named her friend Warmheart, due to his genial good nature. Miss Combes raised two fine sons.
"Warmheart was like a brother or an uncle for Rescue Robin. Sadly, he never fully recovered. He never stopped being frail. A draft would cause him to cough and he was in a constant state of sickness. Still, Miss Combes kept him alive. He lived for… at least two decades after Lamp's light was extinguished. I was with him when he passed…" When her throat closed unexpectedly, Celestia found herself robbed of speech.
Lifting one foreleg, Twilight swiped at her eyes.
Thinking back, Celestia could not remember a better listener than the deaf-mute earth pony.
"It's all yours, Twilight," she managed to say, but she could not hide the strain in her voice. When her voice failed her again, she could not continue.
It left a gap in the conversation and Twilight asked, "I'm sorry, but what is?"
"All of Ficklewick's notes, all of his writings, copies will be made available to you. This is, arguably, one of Equestria's most valuable treasures. He spent a lot of time lost in memories and wrote down everything in agonising detail. All of his friendship studies. His unique view of the events that took place in his lifetime. All of his observations. Everything will be made available to you. As the Princess of Friendship, this knowledge shall be your stewardship. Do great things, Twilight."
The young mare seemed to be at a loss for words. Her mouth opened—briefly—but closed without a sound. She tried several times to say something—anything—and each time she met with failure. When her barrel began hitching, rapidly rising and falling with each laboured breath, she gave up. Averting her gaze, she looked down at the grass where she sat and in silence, she struggled to compose herself.
"Would you like some ice cream, Twilight Sparkle?"
"Would I?" The response came out as little more than a squeak. "Yeah, that sounds nice." She sniffled, coughed, and then succumbed to even more barrel hitching.
"Twilight Sparkle… you have exceeded my every expectation. Long may you reign as the Princess of Friendship. Remember those who have come before you, and inspire those who come after, just as I have done my utmost to inspire you. Now come… let us have ice cream and I shall tell you how the Circle met its end and how I opened up my school for gifted unicorns."