Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
Twelfth Month, Fifteenth Day, Celestial Calendar
Neyla
As fear can be a weapon, so too can loss.
In emotional terms, we had all just been bombed into the dirt, as if struck by one of the Nuclear weapons that had so recently, finally, inevitably, been used for their one and only possible purpose.
Earth was never my home. I never had a more localized home at all, in a geo-physical sense.
I suppose The Kingdoms, writ large, came as close as any concept a Human might have of a 'Homeland.' Equestria was my 'Homeworld.'
I had very little context for the exact kind of searing, crushing, wracking hurt that was coursing through every fiber of those who were originally from that 'swiftly tilting planet,' as Fyrenn occasionally called it, when he thought someone was in the room who might understand the literary reference.
Nonetheless, I felt pain. The pain of a warrior who feels that the thing they are sworn to protect has been mortally wounded. The pain of a migrant who sees a shore that gave her refuge, and purpose for a time, wiped out in a day of extraordinary loss.
The pain of a being with any sort of functioning sense of empathy, learning of the suffering and death of countless millions.
More than anything the pain of a friend, mother, and mate, watching my family of native Terrans suffering.
Profoundly.
When the courier had arrived, and his letter had been read before the War Council, it really would have best been described as an emotional Nuclear bomb going off.
Sildinar had retired with his parents to handle immediate official responses, and logistical business on behalf of the Kingdoms.
Celestia had gone with Luna to do the same, but as she left the Council chamber it had seemed as if someone had flicked a switch.
She was reduced in an instant to a kind of emotionless automaton by centuries of carefully constructed coping mechanisms stretched to their breaking point.
Luna would see to her, no sense expending any thought worrying after her; I knew that if I expressed that sentiment aloud, it might seem callous to an outside observer... But I am a mother, and a mate, soon to be.
Every being has only so much 'emotional headroom,' as the Human psychologists might call it.
Mine was strictly reserved for close family.
And a double portion for those whom I held most dear to me.
I knew Fyrenn would appreciate a moment alone. He and I both tended to need a brief time to process without the input of anyone or anything else, when dealing with the worst kinds of blows.
I also had a fairly good idea of where he was going when he left the room. His face was set in a rictus of barely suppressed rage, plastered over with a surprisingly good approximation of calm for the sake of external observers.
Carradan was not one to express deep negative emotions often in a public setting.
Seeing him rocking back and forth slowly, wrapped in IJ's neck, front hooves, and wings, crying silently with terrible full body heaves...
Long since, I'd put aside the majority of my resentment, and suspicion for the Changeling. Yet somehow, a small coldness in the pit of my chest had always lingered, even after seeing how well she and Alyra got along.
In that moment, that small icy pit finally evaporated, leaving behind only a desire to fold them both up in my wings, and cry together with them. But they would tend to each other with ample love, and depth of soulful caring.
Taranis disappeared almost as quickly as Fyrenn did. Dragons are so often creatures of loneliness by nature. And I would not have been surprised to learn that he too needed a moment alone for the same reasons Fyrenn, or I might have.
William had found immediate solace with Shierel. Hutch and Aston were grouped together with them, all talking in soft tones, and sharing repeated embraces, and wings over shoulders, and the like; It seemed to me to be an apt pairing of pairs.
Kephic and Varan, bless them, devoted themselves to comforting Skye; She'd spent enough time on Earth, and more than enough time fighting for it, to be affected quite deeply by the news. They all had.
Anyone who heard it, and had a shred of soul in them would be...
But the cut ran deeper for those of us who had spilled blood in defense of the planet. Especially those of us who had done so recently, and felt that some of what we'd fought for might have been in vain.
As far as our family, that left my most important charge solely for me to comfort.
Alyra.
Oh my dear, brave, kind daughter.
Like Stan, her tears were silent as she buried her head in the crook between my neck, and left foreleg. I wrapped her in both wings, clutching her to my chest as she wept, her body held stiff with the rigor of an immeasurably deep suffering.
For all the evils Earth and its people had visited on her, and in spite of her justifiable hatred of the dour, oppressive gray of the actual physical place which had so long been a prison to her, Alyra had always held an equally deep love for the people of her homeworld.
Her suffering had taught her to, rather than being bitter, be empathetic to the personal hells of so many others on her world who had been subjected to loss, and fear, pain, and heartache.
She'd fought hard in their defense.
Talked so often of her hopes for their futures in Equestria, with us, and far out in the depths of the stars with Genesis.
Railed, nights on end, at the same foolishness and vagaries of corrupt government, and corporate entities, as Fyrenn did.
Fretted, and worried about what Humanity's weapons might do in unscrupulous hands. As we all had.
I cradled her there in silence, my head atop hers, wings shielding her from all else, for almost an hour. The room gradually emptied as others managed to work up enough wherewithal to continue their coping in small groups, each bound for a location, and activity, that might bring some added solace.
Time itself seemed to slip away into a vague mist-like approximation of passage, until I was absently partially aware that it was drawing near to early evening by the angle, and color of the sun.
"It's hard to love in a time of war."
Alyra's words jolted me, inducing that jarring physical sensation of falling ten feet back into reality from half a dream, and landing abruptly in a cold, acrid tasting present, cast in the amber glow of late afternoon.
She pulled away gently at last, stretched, and then walked slowly, aimlessly towards the huge plate glass window that consumed most of the tower's west wall.
As she passed it, she somberly brushed one claw against the immense hourglass that occupied one far end of the chamber, speaking in that far-too-old-for-her-years voice that was at once endearing, and deeply saddening.
"In peace? Time is an ally. It teaches us to cherish. To relish. To love, and forgive, and enjoy, and share. But in war...? Time becomes a stalking venomous thing. It poisons, twists, and chokes, until all that's left is bitterness."
I rose from my haunches, immediately giving in to the same urge to stretch, releasing hours of built up muscular tension, and with it a fair amount of emotional tension as well. After a deep, jaw straining yawn, I made my way over to the hourglass, sizing it up as I approached.
With a small shake of my head, and a sad smile, I grasped the bottom of the central glass flute, and turned the whole contraption on its hinge, restarting the flow of sand that had lain dormant for who knew how long.
I gently stroked Alyra's crest with one claw as we both watched the grains begin to trickle down, each highlighted in stark relief against the waning sun.
"Time is clay in our claws. It is real, and tangible... But it becomes exactly what *we* make of it. No more. No less."
As I continued to speak, I shared a small smile with my daughter.
"The bitterness itself is the venomous stalking creature. Those who give themselves to it, or just give themselves over to their exhaustion, are doomed by it. Victory is only for those who fight. And whatever else we face... We must kill the bitterness. In so doing, we win a future worth having."
Alyra exhaled deeply, a sound and gesture of catharsis that released some of the tension in my own chest as well. I reached out with a wing and pulled her to my side, gesturing to the chamber door with my head.
"Let's find your father."
Fyrenn was indeed exactly where I'd expected to find him.
We'd shared several cold winter nights earlier that year over the coals of a fire, and steaming hot drinks, talking away his insomnia, long after Alyra was sleeping soundly.
In one of those moments of bonding, he'd shared a story about a trip to a museum, and a particular painting.
He'd mentioned the painting again briefly on the Equestrian leg of the return flight to Canterlot. Wondered aloud if it was already in the Human Archive Project's inventory.
Apparently it was.
Alyra and I found him sitting across from the immense replica canvas, dust cover carefully thrown back, a steaming mug of coffee in his claws as he stared wistfully into the depths of the almost seven by ten meter image; A molecule-by-molecule exact magical flash copy of the original, just with Equestrian matter.
He silently placed his left wing over Alyra, and I moved to sit beside him, with her sandwiched between us, my right wing over his back. He signed deeply, and I felt a tiny tremor of stress and pain leaving his body.
After a few minutes, he sipped from his mug, and finally spoke.
"This used to hang in the Louvre. Across from the Mona Lisa, of all things. No disrespect to DaVinci... But the Wedding at Cana is by far my favorite thing in the gallery."
I nodded, sweeping the depiction with my eyes and drinking in the detail. Human artists were a revelation to those of us who had never even so much as seen half the Pony art that was on offer, before Contact.
"You have good taste."
Terrans seemed to have... More. More varied culture, and eras of expression in each one, than in our whole world combined.
Their grasp of the way that light and color were so inextricably tied to emotion was always my favorite thing about their artistry, regardless of the culture, or time period of its origin.
Fyrenn sighed, and pointed with one claw.
"Paolo Veronese painted *one hundred and thirty* people into this scene... All by hand, with just his brother's help. In fifteen months. He included all sorts of historical references; Kings, Queens, Emperors... A Sultan... An Architect... A Diplomat... An Archbishop... Himself, as the musician in white. None of them speaking. The painting was to hang in a Benedictine Monastery, and they all sit there in silence, to comply with the required vows."
We sat and stared for several silent moments. I tried to work out who each figure was, and I was sure Alyra was doing the same, just as I was sure that Fyrenn knew them all by heart.
After another long draught from his tankard, he spoke again.
"For all that life, and complexity... All the little vignettes, and stories within the story... My favorite part is still the little tabby cat in the lower right, playing with the vase, and the man in green staring down at it."
My eye was instantly drawn to the little creature, and I couldn't resist a small smile as Fyrenn explained his fascination.
"The savior of the world... God in the form of a Human being... Has just turned water into wine. And still the little mundane intricacies of life go on! What could be more natural for that little cat? And what could be more natural than for the man in green to worry that the cat will upset the vase?"
I nodded my agreement, searching the figure's eyes for hints as to his emotional disposition. Words sprang almost unbidden to my beak; A continuation, and summation, of a conversation Fyrenn and I had shared on the way back down from Earth orbit, not so very long ago.
"God cares deeply about those 'little' moments. There is more workmanship and creativity in a small cat... An actual living creature... Any living creature... Than the whole of anything we mortals can make of stone, or paint, or brass by hand, or claw. How much more so is there careful composition in the moments of our lives?"
Fyrenn's eyes closed tight, and his breath caught in his throat. I pulled him closer as his words teetered on the verge of weeping.
"How... Many moments... Are lost, when a life is ended too soon? How many beautiful instants of time did we all just lose?"
He opened his eyes and stared into mine, the tears welling up in his starting to give rise to the same reflex in me as his voice broke.
"How many people who have never even seen a real, living cat before, just lost the chance to share the experience of seeing one for the first time?"
At the last words, he collapsed into a heap of tears, head pressed to my chest. I wrapped him, and Alyra close, as she gripped his claws in hers, and nestled her head into the crook of his neck.
I don't know how long we all sat there crying, witnessed only by the still, silent Human faces on the canvas.
Eventually the crying ceased once more, and we simply lay there in a tight embrace together, silently mourning. Processing. Empathizing. Loving, and comforting.
We might have stayed there the rest of the evening, and all night, if not for the sound of hooves finally breaking the spell.
We looked up to see Skye, Kephic, and Varan coming down the transfer aisle between the seemingly endless rows of crates and other sundry containers. The little Unicorn was carrying six mugs in her magic, all steaming, and bearing the warm comforting scent of cider.
"Varan said we'd find you here. I brought cider. Figured if ever there were a time to hit the drinks *hard...* This is it. Though I guess I'm the only one who can get tipsy."
As Skye passed out the mugs, she stared up at the painting, shaking her head and taking a long sip of her own drink before speaking again.
"Kinda ironic to be staring at a wedding painting."
I raised an eyecrest and shot her a glance half questioning, half scolding. It seemed quite likely that our own wedding plans would be stymied, at least temporarily, by the day's events.
Skye smirked, and nudged my ribs with one hoof, a familiar and comforting note of mischief creeping into her voice.
"So... Any chance you two will just skip right back to a small ceremony, and get hitched already? I bet Linnea would do the honors for you tonight. You could just have the family for guests, and we could probably pull together some pretty decent food..."
I smiled a half amused, half sad smile, and exchanged a quick glance with Fyrenn. I could see the same emotions on his face as I felt flooding my own breast, and I knew what his answer would be even before he said it.
"As tempting as that is...?"
He placed a wing over my back and dipped his head for first Kephic, and then Varan to place their foreheads against his. He continued speaking as Alyra exchanged long embraces with her uncles.
"...I don't think that's the right call. We made Celestia a promise. We intend to keep it. She convinced us to agree to the featherbrained idea of a big splashy ceremony for a lot of good reasons... And now those reasons are more valid than ever. If that means we wait another few days? We wait patiently."
Fyrenn stood to his hind legs and reached up with one claw to draw down the painting's dust cover, gazing one last time down at the tabby cat, and the man in green, before ever so gently replacing the painting's protective cloth, speaking as he did so.
"That being said...?"
He reached out for one of my claws with one of his own, and I pulled him into a quick kiss before he had time to even realize it was happening.
Silence lasted for several heartbeats as he gently reached up with his free claw to adjust one of my crest feathers. He leaned in and kissed me again softly, before turning to Skye and smiling genuinely.
The expression, and the hope it brought, sent much needed warmth through my bones in a way even the cider couldn't manage. Well... The kiss might have had as much to do with the warmth as anything else, if I were to be completely honest.
That, and the mixture of elation, amusement, and true deep joy that filled Skye's muzzle as she saw us share a gesture of love that she had talked about witnessing for so long.
"...I think getting the family together and rustling up some food... And as much good drink as we can find... That sounds like the only right way to spend the evening."
Luna
"I am so... Tired, Luna... I feel as if all the new physical energy of this youthful form? As if I've lost ten times that in my heart. Down in my soul."
I felt my sister's words as keenly as the prick of a knife betwixt my ribs. The worst part was not the exhaustion, visibly manifest in her face, and audibly in her tone. Nor was it the depth of her grief, intense as it was.
The worst part was the sense, for the first time in all the years we'd been together, that Celestia had finally given up, outright.
Not even during the worst of the time of Chaos had Celestia seemed so utterly hollowed out. Drained of resolve.
She dropped the dozens of scrolls she'd been holding in her magic into a heap around her, allowing her head to fall forward into the desk with a sickening 'THUD.'
I rose from my own position at the study's tea table, and made my way over to her desk, ears flicking back and forth reflexively with anxiety as she murmured aloud through clenched teeth and closed eyes.
"There is a true horror in the mathematics of people's recalcitrance."
She looked up at me as I sat back on my haunches, my right wing finding its way to her back and neck almost without conscious impulse. The hollowness in her eyes was jarring.
"We have three years, and spare bits. One thousand two hundred and seventeen days to save just under six and a half billion people."
I more than understood the grim math. I'd already done, and re-done, checked, and re-checked the selfsame calculations with my own horn and hooves. Nonetheless, I did my best to hold a neutral expression, and I let her continue to vent her sorrow.
"If we could truly make a start today, we would need to Convert, move, and resettle five and a third *million.* Today. Tomorrow. The day after. Every single day remaining."
I nodded my head, and bit back the impulse to sigh deeply. I had no need of Celestia's words to underscore the seriousness of the situation. Between us, I had always been the stronger advocate for desperate measures.
I was intimately acquainted with the length of our odds.
But still I kept my muzzle closed.
She needed to air her sorrow. To a point.
"Every day that we lose now? To recovering the supply chains and the Bureau Network? To this war? Those consequences stack, and ripple, and bear down on us with increasing severity."
I had already calculated whole functions to describe just how badly the intervening days would stack, and ripple, as she put it. I made no move to share that information. It was a struggle enough for her to hope as things stood. Why unnecessarily burden a broken spirit any further?
"To date? We have Converted and resettled just about fifteen million people. An average of just five thousand new arrivals a day. On the busiest days. In fifteen years we've averaged a million a year. Now we have just twenty percent of that time, to move over four hundred percent of that number."
Her numbers were approximations, but the point was still made well enough. I finally allowed myself a sigh, and began to slowly stroke her back as she shook her head, and her voice turned, if possible, to an even more dour register.
"Even if we win... We're going to lose. We throw tens of thousands of lives into the screaming howling void of war, and if we win... What then? All we have done is grant a few hundred million a fleeting chance. Billions will perish---"
"*STOP!*"
Rarely did we have cause to raise our voices with each other. I could both see, and feel an instantaneous, visceral reaction in my sister. Her back tensed. Her eyes widened. Her ears flattened as if pinned to her skull with nails.
To 'vent' frustration was one thing. To give in entirely?
No.
Not on my watch.
I forged ahead in a slightly less window-shaking, but no less firm tone, my face set so hard with an expression of anger, and surety, that my jaw ached.
"We have neither the time, nor as you so accurately stated, the *energy,* for this kind of talk."
I placed a hoof under my sister's chin, resisting the urge to wince, and then shiver, as the disparity in our apparent physical ages struck home once more. Instead, I made an effort to soften my expression, and my tone, to strike an even balance between firmness, and empathetic connection.
How in the heavens had she done this for me?
I prayed for that same strength as my thoughts finally made their way out into cogent words once more.
"We may not be goddesses, but right now? Right now we will have to be just as strong."
Celestia exhaled slowly, body shaking with a silent sob. I put my head forward and touched my forehead to hers.
"The Gryphons have won their wars against enemies ten times their size, and just as well equipped."
She pulled back, and blinked, eyes dry, but not for lack of a desire to weep. More likely because she simply had no tears left to give.
I gestured in the general direction of the corridor with one hoof, and raised one eyebrow.
"Our kind has stood with them in the breach before! We have beaten back the scourges, and horrors of Chaos itself! Together!"
She nodded meekly, and I dropped the register of my voice again, trying for a solemn, quiet, encouraging insistence.
"The Humans have successfully overcome their own wars. Plagues. Famines. Ruined their planet to the point of taking desperate measures to right their wrongs, and when Nightmare set her hoof into their affairs and ruined that hope too? They persisted! They watched every single other living thing on their world *DIE!* And they are *STILL HERE!*"
I paused and inhaled. I'd climbed back into a more aggressive, angry voice, and I could feel celestia almost shying away in shame. I shook my head, and averted my gaze, staring out the window into the sunset as I mustered the self control to drop back to a quieter tone.
It would be time for Moonrise soon.
"...And true, they may have the same potential for unspeakable foolishness, and evil, as they do for good, and for truth... But right now if the good in them is to survive, they need us. And most importantly, they need us to behave as if they still have a chance! Because they *DO!*"
My eyes snapped back to meet Celestia's. They were moist, but not overcome with tears. Not yet at least.
"If they throw that away? That is solely on their heads. We may share blame for what has happened to them, but we? You and I? Will be *DAMNED* if we sit here and twiddle our hooves in a tearful heap until we have twiddled away their last, best hopes."
Somehow, saying the words aloud helped me to inch that much closer to truly believing them myself. Whether I could fully be quit of my guilt, for even a moment? I needed to put on a brave face,
I was the 'older sister' now.
I had no choice. I had to be there for her. The same way she had been for me.
I put a hoof under her chin and lifted it, drilling into her eyes with my own as I expended every ounce of self will to make it seem as though I truly believed everything I was saying. In fairness, I did... Just perhaps with less vigour than I wanted to portray.
"We will win this war. When we do? Then we will give over every last ounce of strength that we have. Every breath. Every bit. Every brilliant idea. Every possible contingency. Every scrap. Until we have saved all who are willing to help us to save them."
She nodded, and I crooked her into a hug with my neck, whispering in her ear.
"As to the rest?"
We both sat back, and I reseated my wings, pressing on lest my mask of self assurance slip.
"We *can* save those who are willing. If they are willing to try. Those who are not? We could never have saved. No matter how many years we might have had."
Celestia nodded again. I inclined my head, and held up one hoof.
"One step at a time."
She smiled ever so slightly, and held up one of her hooves, placing it gently against mine, frog to frog, as she finally responded aloud.
"One step at a time. Dear sister."
It was my turn to nod. I exhaled slowly, trying to excise some of my tension with the contents of my lungs as I collected my thoughts.
The beginnings of ideas began to circulate at the back of my mind, even as a more solid imperative made its way to the forefront.
I gestured to the door with one hoof as I spoke again.
"I think, for you, the first step is to take a moment. Clear your mind. Recenter your soul."
As my sister nodded, and rose, I turned my attention to the scrolls on her desk, inhaling deeply, and accelerating the process of giving form, and life, to my ideas.
"As for me I will turn my hoof to the horrors of mathematics. When you return? I will have a framework. And we will take it one step at a time from there."
Alyra
I found Miles exactly where I expected to, much to the relief of his parents.
While Mom and Dad had split up to find the others, I had gone to collect Miles and his family, but found only William and Shierel.
How Miles had got past the guards without an escort I wasn't sure, but even in a society with flighted members, it was all too easy for Unicorns and Earth Ponies to forget about the benefits of being able to defy gravity at will. I couldn't unsee it, after about the first four weeks of having my own wings. The only place I'd ever been that seemed to be built with flight entirely in mind was the Capital.
There were Miles' wings to contend with, and too the fact that the Science Academy's quad, and towers, were not exactly the most high security part of a castle that was never particularly secure to begin with. Something I'd have to poke Dad to talk with the Princesses about...
I knew for a fact from Skye that the research the Science Academy headed up was entirely for peaceful purposes. But I knew from intimately painful experience that 'peaceful science' could do horrific things to someone if twisted by just the wrong minds.
And a lot of Human knowledge was flowing in through HAP, merging and melding with ancient magic, and new creative ideas, in awe inspiring...
...And terrifying ways.
I realized as I watched William and Shierel cradle Miles that he'd probably just flown up from outside while nopony was looking. The slit in the domed metal structure for the telescope lens was enormous, and open in anticipation of an evening of stargazing.
Cocking my head, I watched in silence, not sure whether I should stay, or go. Just as I was on the cusp of turning away, a tear filled, pleading expression from Miles rooted me to the cool marble of the floor.
I waited patiently, gazing up at the first pinpricks of evening stars, and then at the magnificent brass, glass, and gold structure of the telescope. As I swept the huge circular room, looking for something else to occupy my gaze, I noted the presence of a new Thaumatic Crystal Computer tied into the old analog controls and gears of the telescope's aiming systems.
If not directly Skye's doing, it was definitely based on her work. I smiled in spite of myself.
It seemed like there was nothing she couldn't do. Except, maybe, talk about whatever pain she held in her past. But maybe she could even do that. If we just gave her time, and patience.
Finally, Miles' parents sat back on their haunches, and Shierel gestured for me to join them. I'd no sooner gotten to within a foreleg's length than Miles practically cannoned into me, wrapping his forelegs and wings around me, and squeezing as if he was afraid I'd vanish like morning mist.
Gingerly at first, then with a little more confidence, inspired by a simple desire to provide some kind of comfort, I returned the hug.
As he buried his head in my neck, I realized, or perhaps re-realized with a sharp jolt, that I was probably the colt's only living friend. At least, from a peer-group standpoint.
And he probably *was* afraid that I, or his parents, might vanish at any moment. That's exactly what had happened to everyone else he'd ever known or loved.
Now it had happened to a huge chunk of his homeworld.
Our homeworld.
The knowledge that it would all be swallowed up sooner than later was cold comfort, if any. And it was no comfort at all against the feeling of intense loss at the idea of so many lives snuffed out.
I didn't think of myself as a child anymore. As a fledgeling. I'd never really thought of myself as one, unconsciously allowing the pain of circumstances to strip away all sense of youth.
But I had *consciously* come to see myself as an adult since my Conversion.
The moment we realize we've grown up is different for everyone. The process of growing is subtle, but there does come a day when you first realize you're not a child anymore. And never will be again.
After that, there are periodic moments that bring that thought back with shocking force; Like a face full of ice water.
For me, Miles crying into the feathers of my neck, squeezing me with his wings and hooves as if we had been childhood best friends for a decade, was another of those moments.
It hit me that I had a rare gift that I could forge and fashion from the crucible of my suffering, mixed with the joy of my liberation. I could be both an adult, and a child, for a time... In a strange, happy, messy, melting pot sort of way.
Dad really liked a C.S. Lewis quote, based on a Bible verse; 'When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.'
I'd always gotten why he liked it; Under the crust of a seasoned fighter, he had that inner childlike wonder, joy, love, and empathy that Human psychologists seemed to be incessantly talking about, paired with his adult maturity and growth. It was one of his qualities that I loved the most.
But suddenly the words 'clicked' for me in a new, and personal way.
I realized that *I* could be that way too. Maybe in some ways I already was... But I could lean into that reality; The maturity and experience of a battle-forged warrior adult. And the youthful love, and joy, and playfulness, and wonder of a fledgeling.
In the next moment, as I found myself reflexively stroking Miles' neck, and crooking his neck with my own, I also realized that he would need me to be both. Notwithstanding any jokes about Stan, or Kephic, we were truly the only children in the family, for the moment.
I could be for Miles what Sonya had been for me. And in turn, he could be for me, what I had tried to be for Sonya without, I think, ever truly realizing it.
Sometimes family is something you grow up with. If you're as blessed, and lucky as I was, then that family was good to you. But either way, at some point family becomes a thing you choose. A thing you keep, and curate, tend, and grow, like a garden.
And, on occasion? All that you need to build a fire of love is a couple choice moments. A few snap judgements at little forks in the path.
I'd reached out and offered a claw to Miles. He'd reached back; Maybe for no other reasons beyond curiosity, because I was a Gryphon, mixed with a suppressed need for a peer, and the fact that there was no one else close to his age with any real connection to him. Tenuous or otherwise.
That had been one fork in the path.
This moment of weeping, and comforting, and embrace, was another.
I sighed deeply, and squeezed Miles back gently, and comfortingly. I could feel the tension seeping slowly but surely out of him, and a gradual sense of peace taking its place.
I watched the stars continue to appear, oblivious to all else but the evening sky, and the little Pegasus clutched tight, biting back my own tears as they threatened to start up again.
It was, I realized, time to open myself up again in a way I never had since Sonya's death. Time to fill a void that had persisted even after so much of the darkness in me had been burned away by the light of the love of a new family.
And now it was was my turn to be the big sister.
Celestia
Though I loved doing it, I realized it had been a very long time since I'd simply wandered the grounds of the castle aimlessly.
I so desperately wanted to go out into the streets of Canterlot, but I knew my presence would cause no end of fuss, and problems. Especially given my physical state.
So I contented myself with walking circles around the gardens, seeking out the most obscure, least travelled corners of the rows upon rows of roses, annuals, and fruit trees.
Though I did my best to see and smell something new every time I had the chance to wander, somehow I always seemed to inevitably end up in my favorite corner of the east rose gardens. A white sandstone bench across from a small fish pond, and a brass sundial.
Stress only ever seems to increase the love of the routine, and familiar. And I knew myself well enough to know that I was already a creature of habit at the best of times.
To my surprise, the hidden nestled corner of the grove was already occupied. I'd half turned to leave already before I consciously realized that the beaked face peering down at the sundial was quite familiar.
"Sildinar?"
The name escaped my lips almost as a mildly stunned reflex. The roan Gryphon glanced up, and smiled in a genuine way that struck a deep chord in me.
His father and I had always managed a solid working relationship. But the smile on his beak was filled with concern for me, and admiration, and a deep friendly caring through-note that resonated as surely as a musical chord.
"Princess! I see you are trying to quiet the roar of the angry storm inside as well?"
The blunt nature of his words caught me off guard. Normally when dealing with somepony's bluntness, I'd be subjected to rudeness, or stubbornness from the court of nobles.
To experience the same level of bluntness, but paired with such prescient words, and delivered in a tone that spoke deeply of a personal and truly selfless concern for me?
That took getting used to.
I had little option; I sighed deeply, turned back into the garden, and responded in kind.
I needed the refreshing sense of connection. Needed the hopeful reminder of how close his people, and mine, were suddenly becoming.
I needed an empathetic ear that was closer than a disinterested observer, but farther removed, and different in perspective, to my dear sister.
"Trying, and perhaps failing. I trust your own efforts are yielding at least some fruit?"
He snorted, and shook his head, a smile half of amusement, half of deep sadness flitted across his face again. He spoke as he brushed one claw absently against the sundial.
"Hardly."
With another small sigh, I made my way over to the bench, and ensconced myself into a comfortable position. Sildinar joined me, somehow both respectful of both my person, and position in his bearing, yet also personable, and almost casual, but not quite.
As he reseated his wings with a soft rustle, he saw fit to elaborate.
"The hardest part for me is the anger. It swelled like an out of control forest fire, burning away the grief, the pain, the longing... All that seems to be left, deep down, is an unspeakable hatred for the particular Humans that brought this on us all."
He winced, visibly, and stared off into the middle distance, delivering his next words in a chilling almost-monotone.
"My Mother and Father have already dispatched a small reinforcement contingent to Earth in spite of the importance of the coming battle here. A special cadre of hunter sentinels."
It was my turn to wince. I knew of these 'hunter' sentinels. They were some of the most vicious, hardened, deadly, experienced, ruthless warriors to ever live. They frequently took bounties, as much for the chance to snuff out the lives of slavers and murderers as for the actual bits in payment.
Sildinar's next words sent a sliver of ice wending down my withers, into my spine.
"They have instructions to dedicate their whole time, and energy to finding, and killing, every remaining EarthGov Councilor, and EarthGov Military flag officer."
A moment of awkward silence passed, before I could muster the wherewithal to put halting words to my feelings on the subject.
"The harsh justice of victors can be as potent a poison to oneself as to one's enemy..."
Sildinar glanced down at me with a mixture of concern and defensiveness... How peculiar for his head to be higher than mine... And I hastened to clarify.
"...But in this case, I don't feel as if I could truly argue with your sentiment, or your reasoning. Unlike most of my little Ponies, I am no stranger to violence. Though I loathe it far more than you, or your kind... I find myself... Seduced by it. From time to time. Simply because I have seen how effective it can be at protecting those I care for. Say what you will of diplomacy; If your enemies are all either dead, or fear you too much to share the same continent with you? You are safe."
It was a difficult admission, but the airing of it felt as if I had ripped a thorn from the frog of my hoof. Painful, but full to bursting with a sensation of relief. I'd never even so much as dared to breathe a word of that sentiment to Luna...
She struggled with her own penchant for violence more than enough. The last thing she needed was a hoofhold to drag me further to her side of that spectrum. She relied on me to balance her. As I relied on her to balance me.
Sildinar's next words came slowly, as though chosen very carefully. Yet also firmly, as the words of a warrior with unshakeable conviction. I averted my gaze and watched a Robin tussle with a Towhee for a small clod of seeds atop the sundial as I listened.
"Harsh justice would be giving no quarter to any on the losing side. That we are willing to offer a chance at surrender to anyone below flag officers, and the highest halls of power, speaks deeply of how much your kind, and the new Converts, are acting to check our most rage-filled impulses."
I partially suppressed a small snort of mixed mirth, relief, and disdain tainted concern. Sildinar took very little notice of the sound, except to expound slightly in a disquietingly casual manner.
"There was a time not long ago, at all, when we would have responded to what the EarthGov has done by sending our entire race, shy only of the children, onto the Earth, armed and armored, with the goal of killing every single Human in military or government positions as publicly and brutally, and slowly as possible, no matter how insignificant, deaf to all cries for mercy, or offers of surrender."
I finally met his eyes once more, and smiled slightly, doing my best to find the silver lining in his words, and inject some of that tepid optimism into my tone.
"You are learning to temper the sword of vengeance with the shield of mercy."
He nodded, and I looked back to see that the Towhee had succeeded in wresting the seeds away from the Robin. The latter had fallen to rooting around in the grass below the sundial, searching for a worm.
I murmured the rest of my thoughts aloud as the image of nature struggling for resources, even here in this curated, peaceful, abundant place, stuck vividly in my mind.
"Just as we must learn to sharpen the dulled ploughshares of complacency into effective weapons of protection. If my kind is to survive at all. In this age, or the next."
Sildinar nodded again, and a tense, but amicable silence descended for several minutes, broken only by the wind in the trees, and the chirrup of songbirds.
The roan Gryphon was the first to interject once more, his voice grim and dark enough that it immediately wrested my attention away from staring up at my Sister's rising Moon.
"I should warn you... Fyrenn sent ahead from Earth. He, and I, and others... We have been planning and preparing for three years for the worst eventualities. My Mother and Father and I have signed off on all his requests and endeavours, and his latest plans. And we have of course agreed to the plan to unite all our remaining forces for this last stand here..."
I cocked my head and made my question known with a silent, quizzical glance. Sildinar visibly braced himself, clearly knowing that I would not much care for the news he would deliver. I too braced myself as he continued.
"...They say that war never changes. Some of the Human philosophers. I understand the sentiment, but it is somewhat misplaced. War is always changing. And though many of us welcome, and expect those evolutions... I know they will be hard for you."
With a deep sigh, I turned my eyes away, and focused on the full Moon's shadow as it crept across the Sundial. I grit my teeth, and tried to tell myself that what I knew he'd say next was inevitable.
"You value life, and diplomacy, and the power of spoken word so highly. I envy the way you were raised to think. At least in-part."
The kindness, and vulnerability, and wisdom of those words helped assuage the wound yet to be inflicted. I breathed a silent word of thanks for the relative gentleness, and kindness of Sildinar's temperament. It was a very becoming quality in a prince.
"But... Sometimes violence is the best recourse. The only recourse. And the way of war is changing in Equestria. Faster and faster every day. You will not be endeared to the look and sound of war as driven by not just the claw, and the horn, and the hoof... But by the gear, and the fuse, and the engine."
The words brought forth another deep sigh, and I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the gut wrenching memories of Human war films. Of German tanks rushing across the Russian borders en masse, the SS torching villages as they went. Of the aftermath of the atomic bombings in Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Of the burned, savaged bodies stacked in heaps in the jungles of Vietnam, at odds with the still lush foliage of the time.
Images of the butchered, sliced, shrapnel furrowed bodies of children, their limbs scattered across the sands of the desert by the terrible laser-guided weapons dispatched from the wings of drones.
"The ways of machines, and of mankind, are coming. Inexorably. More swiftly with every new Convert. This was always the way it would go, in a general sense. Please try to focus on the gratitude that it is *we* who will lead that first charge into this new age of combined mechanical armaments, and not an enemy of yours."
I wrestled with the images in my mind as they twisted and warped in the throes of my imagination; Ponies mowing down battalions of Diamond Dogs with machine driven guns, while Gryphons did battle in the air with Changelings, firing shoulder-mounted magnetic canons that savaged their opponents into ribbons with every hit, and great gray metal fire breathing tracked beasts of machines roamed the blasted landscape, dispatching explosive shells at anything which moved that did not bear their own colors, cutting swathes through clouds of noxious gas weapons as they passed with a dull rumble.
Even without the Humans... Diamond Dogs were already using claw-cranked automatic crossbows. Gryphons knew of what the Humans might call gunpowder, and had occasionally experimented with it as a weapon. Magic was capable of horrors nearly equal to those of early mechanized Human weapons at any rate...
How long could it have truly been before our first world-scale war, with magic and machines working in terrible twisted Harmony to automate and streamline the taking of life?
Perhaps he was right. And as much as it physically hurt... I screwed up the courage to say so out loud.
"You are... As much as I loathe the admission... Correct. Change was inevitable. "
We both took a moment to take that sentiment in, staring up at the stars. Both of us, I expect, wondering if somewhere far, far beyond the ones we could see, if our universe naturally crossed over into the other. If somewhere out there, there was a straight, bright arc of a course that would one day reunite us with the brave souls of Genesis.
The thought brought form to my thoughts as solid words, and I voiced them slowly, and deliberately.
"I suppose that truth could be the very theme of our lives. Our generation. The ending of this age. And the dawn of the new."
With a deep inhalation, I forged ahead, and brought the darker half of my thoughts out into the moonlight. It was the first time I'd ever said the terrible words fully aloud. To anyone.
"I sometimes wish I had not lived to see it. More frequently each day, it seems."
The silent shocked pain on the Gryphon's face spoke volumes. Of his empathy. Of the seriousness of what I had said, in the context of who I was, and what he knew of me.
I let the deathly pall of my admission hang in the air for a moment before drawing breath to explain. A truth others, though few in number, already instinctively knew, and understood.
"Sildinar... I was tired *before* The Nightmare hurtled our world into the Earth, and set the Humans' whole reality ablaze. My past seems far removed, and mystical to most. I have cultivated that impression on purpose. To hide just how much blood my life is drenched in."
From the change in his expression, I could see I had both assuaged a little of his concern, while also piquing his curiosity. I had his full and rapt attention. So I continued.
It felt good to say it all out to someone besides Luna.
"My parents... My birth-sire and dam... They were born into a world fresh from the fires of an apocalyptic war. One that was spoken of in my youth by those who cared for me in only the most hushed tones... Now we know, I think, that this war was against the Wisps..."
Sildinar nodded slowly, doubtless doing some quick math in his head, and slightly readjusting his sense of the timeline he had learned from his history books. I paused to let him think, and to brace myself for the memories I knew would flood my mind's eye, before continuing.
"...The things that were done in that conflict... The magic, and the science that were used so indiscriminately and violently for killing... In this high magic environment of this world? That had... Consequences."
Sildinar spoke a single, monotonal word.
"Discord."
I nodded.
"Yes. And others. But he was the most dangerous. Fighting him was the story of our early lives... Luna and I... Two orphans with naught but each other to care for in the world. And at that time? Chaos had led to some deep inter-tribal rifts in our kind."
The shock on the Prince's face was almost amusing. I had to work to keep my voice from sounding too much like a grim chuckle. In a way I was actually grateful; It was amusing, and humbling to see how shocked a Gryphon was at the idea of Ponies having intercine conflict.
"Oh yes. It was not as bad as it has been at some junctures, but it was close. We were quite scandalous; A Unicorn of noble birth and a Pegasus with the blood of a legendary warrior... Traipsing around as sisters. Trumpeting our bond to the world every chance we had."
I finally had to let out a small chuckle as an old face, twisted into a rictus of frustration filled the canvas of my inner eyes.
"It drove one of the other Unicorn representatives on the War Council simply *mad.* He was a dyed-in-the-mane bloodline purist. We absolutely took every opportunity to rub it as deeply in his face as smugly as we could."
A small smile found its way onto my muzzle, before it disintegrated into a deep, sad heaviness of expression, and voice, that I simply had no energy to counteract.
"That was one of very few lighthearted pleasures we had. We lost so many friends..."
I shook my head, and shifted to sprawl on the bench, laying my head on my crossed front hooves, and biting back tears with as much aggression as I could muster.
"We lost so many."
Sildinar frowned, and reached out with one claw. I blinked, but after a moment of consideration, I placed my left hoof into it. The comfort of caring contact was instantaneous, like a soothing ointment doused over all the sores of my emotional gashes.
I mouthed a soft 'Thank you.'
And then I pressed on.
"After the war was over, and we were Alicorns, with a new Mother and Father... A Family... We had hoped our futures would be dedicated wholly to making a peaceful, bright future for all kinds. An Elysium, to borrow the Human term."
Sildinar nodded, but kept silent, giving me a moment to collect my thoughts without interruption.
"Losing our parents again... To something that seemed as vain and pointless as a resounding defeat that vanished the entire Crystal Empire? And then what that did to Luna... What I had to do to her to protect us all..."
I finally lost my battle against the tears, managing to avoid crying outright with sobs, but my eyes betrayed the depth of my sorrow. As did my voice.
I didn't care anymore.
The overpowering sense that I could trust this great roan feathered being... Could be vulnerable with him, as with a life-long friend, was so cathartic, and so long overdue in a general sense, that I couldn't have stopped myself at that point, even if I wanted to.
I had, at that point, a physical, undeniable need to open the depths of my soul to *someone* to whom I owed no responsibility to be strong.
"And now all of this? Sildinar... Long life is, at my age...? A terrible curse. A personal Tartarus which I would not wish on Discord himself, truth be told."
He winced, and squeezed my hoof gently. The gesture was like an injection of pure life force, giving me the impetus to go on to the bitter end of my heartfelt sorrows.
"Three centuries is one thing; A solid, well rounded life, and the chance to do and see much. But more than two thousand years?"
Now there were tears in his eyes too. Tears of understanding, and loving care.
Perhaps I had misjudged just how empathetic, kind, and emotional his people could be. Not just Converts, but natives as well.
The last of my darkness, and shame, and exhaustion spilled out of me all at once as my voice nearly broke, washing over us both in a torrent of hurt exposed to fresh air for the first time.
"I am *so* tired, Sildinar. Tired of seeing so many die. Not just of war, or famine, or plague... But of age. I am tired of seeing generation, after generation, after generation of bright faithful young students that I know I shall inevitably outlive. Tired of politics. Tired of the gravitas of making decisions that end lives, or forever alter their courses... I am so tired."
In a move that surprised us both, Sildinar reached out with the primaries of one wing, and gently brushed away the tears from my eyes, before placing his right wing over my back. The sensation was overall familiar; Luna had done it for me many times, as I had for her.
But in the little details of the texture of the feathers, and the stunning warmth of the avian metabolism, and the emotional sense of being cradled by such a powerful, deadly protector of a creature...
It was shockingly new and strange. But not at all unwelcome.
There was a kind of relief, mixed with scandalous enjoyment in shedding the persona of a goddess that my station practically demanded of me, and pretending silently, in my deepest internal unspoken fantasy, that this warm, kind, strong Gryphon was a life-long friend whom I knew better than anyone, shielding me from the woes of the world.
Oh... Careful Celestia. Be very, very careful.
This is one meandering garden path of fantasy, and emotion, that can lead ever so swiftly to something... More. And you know it.
You've fallen in love with mortals before. Sometimes in the blink of an eye, and the flash of heated passion of a single heartbeat.
It is never a good idea. It always ends in so many tears... Though the Humans might be right when they say 'tis better to have loved, and lost, than never to have loved at all.'
That first Day Guard Captain... Shining's mentor's father's predecessor... Right after Luna's banishment...
Sometimes I still woke up in the middle of the night, crying uncontrollably. Keenly feeling the coldness and void of being alone in my bed. Of the three tries I'd made at having a mate... He was the only one who had lasted.
Watching him age, and pass, had nearly ended me. Made worse because we had kept the relationship an absolute secret, from start, to his grave. Only his second in command had ever known, and she had done us the great kindness of working hard to keep our secret.
Gryphons do live longer...
...And he is so like Burnished Glint... So brave, yet so kind...
...But Sildinar is all but spoken for at any rate. A young General named Seyal, if memory serves, though the two of them seem to dance around the courtship almost as much as Fyrenn and Neyla did.
Oh to be young again. Truly young.
And in love.
Best to instead think of him as the older sibling I'd never had. But always wanted.
I loved Luna dearly, but being the eldest was exhausting beyond measure. Sometimes I yearned to be a proverbial 'middle child.'
That train of thought brought back more words that needed to see the light of the Moon, and find the ears of a friend, so I inhaled deeply, and started again at the task of baring my soul.
"Alicorns are not born. We arise from all three of the tribes, whenever one of us achieves a great feat not only of magic, but of selflessness, and of mental enlightenment. Once we become what we are? We can not bear foals. We can hardly age past mid-adulthood. And we are instantly and forever bound to a course that ties us inextricably to a role as demi-gods."
Sildinar blinked several times, and cocked his head at that distinctly raptorine angle of curiosity. I fought back a blush at just how endearing the expression of pure foallike curiosity was, and pressed on.
"This has been going on since before the Chaos wars. Before the first Wisp conflict. Perhaps before Equestria was whatever it is today... It has been a truth of our kind for all time."
He nodded, and I gave in to the damnable impulse to get closer, snuggling into his side in a move that elicited a slight inhalation of shock from him. I paid it no mind, and laid my head against his shoulder, speaking up before he could object.
"...By and by, a system has come to be; Alicorns will seek someone to be their successor as they reach a point where they become tired with life. When a successor is found, and able to ascend, we see to their tutelage a little longer... In the case of the Equestrian Kingdom, we trade out. The younger Alicorn becomes the senior ruler for a time, seeking their own student, and the student of the previous senior becomes the junior ruler. Though sometimes, as in our case, the ruling pair will find two students at the same time. In any case, as we retire, we take what we call the 'gift-life.' "
Sildinar raised one eye crest, and gently folded his forelegs under him, acclimating to a more steady comfortable position and himself accepting the closeness of our contact for at least a few moments.
I deeply, deeply appreciated his willingness to dismiss taboo, awkwardness, and expectation, and simply be there for me, physically and emotionally. A true friend.
"We have the power to transform. Others, or ourselves. Into almost anything. It was studying this polymorphic spell that yielded some of the critical breakthroughs in conversion, together with the Humans' genomic sequencing, and nanotechnology. At the end of our reign, we use this power one last time to fully remake ourselves into a thing of our choosing. A being of our own design; Whatever gender, kind, age, and appearance we wish. A mere mortal of a species. And we live one last life free of the burdens of true power, and nation altering decisions. A gift-life."
The roan Gryphon nodded slowly, and thrummed deep in his chest as he considered, before responding verbally for the first time in several moments.
"I have heard of what you did to IJ... I must say it made me very glad to be immune to that sort of power."
Perhaps as grateful as I was. That immunity had been a saving grace to all kinds when Discord's magics threatened to reduce even Alicorns to gibbering servile chimeras of horror and absurdity.
Instead of voicing that exact thought, I fixated on an adjacent one.
"Actually, that immunity, as you might logically guess, only works one way. It prevents a Gryphon from being transformed into anything else, but of course does nothing to stop someone from becoming a Gryphon. I have vaguely considered the idea myself in my wildest, most frustrated moments of irritation with the nobles."
Sildinar grinned, and snorted.
"You? A Gryphon?!"
He paused and considered for a moment. I could practically see him picturing the concept in his own imagination. His next words came out with a kind of respectful somber seriousness that took me aback.
"I can picture it, actually."
I smiled. I could picture it as well...
The same way one might try on a particularly provocative saddle and peytral in the quiet, and seclusion of a washroom, with only a mirror for companionship? An outfit to be owned for the risqué pleasure of the secret ownership itself, and only worn on very rare occasion in absolute privacy?
I had sometimes tried on the forms of other kinds. Moreso in my youth.
I'd been quite the... What Humans might term 'maverick' in those first days without Luna. It was a lashing out. A coping mechanism.
I'd never dared even a halfway proper transformation into anything I couldn't come back from, but like a Changeling mimicking an appearance, and the feel of being something, without losing the anchor to their true self, I had tried on all sorts of bodies...
Though a perfect mimicry to an untrained eye, it would never fool a true Gryphon, or even an acute Pony on very intimate inspection.
But it had been a fascinating exercise. White feathers and fur with a teal and pink crests, teal streaks in the wings, and a pink tailfan... Glittering foreleg scales, and a golden beak...
The memory of the mental image, and the dulled but still deeply electrifying sensations of being something so other, and so majestic... So powerful... It brought back quite a rush.
I fought to subsume that sensation, and smiled.
"Your flattery is understood and appreciated. But no... I do not think that is truly my path. Come back in a few centuries? And Luna might be willing to take you up on it. If I had to guess? I honestly think she would find your kind the preferable choice."
In truth, I wondered if Luna would hold out that long. Twilight was strong. Wise, and loving, and deeply talented. And Luna was slowly but surely developing Gryphon-related fantasies of her own, albeit much stronger and more serious in my estimation.
Whatever comfort Varan had given her in those dark moments of realization about the Nightmare's power and purpose?
That act of love had struck a chord in Luna that I'd never once in my life seen plucked to such resonance.
She'd said only three or four words of him put together to me out loud... But the way she had said them. Even the choice of words...
I could instantly picture them together; Him in his feathers and fur of gold, her in shades of blue, black, and amethyst, curled up 'round a young fledgling Gryphon, and a young Diamond Dog, for some reason...
The moment was nearly vivid enough to be an actual hallucinated vision, as if brought on by external supernatural forces, and I had to physically shiver to dismiss it, forcing out words to keep my mind on-track.
"Myself? I think I shall be a little Earth Pony mare, with a bright pink mane, and a small setting sun for a cutie mark. I will start out as a young adult, and travel the world anonymously, writing a journal, and collecting seeds and flowers from every nation, and tribe, in this world."
That form I had tried on a few times before, almost fully. Once I'd very, very nearly given in to it entirely. It would have been so easy to call it an accident. And then to simply run free... Abandon all pain and suffering...
Only my sense of duty, to Luna, and to my Kingdom, had pulled me back. At the very last moment.
After that near miss, I'd never tried on another body again.
But I breathlessly awaited the day where I could finally discharge all my power for the last time. Be rid of the great, and terrible burden.
I closed my eyes and imagined it as I gave voice to the dream, noting with a shiver of pleasure that Sildinar had matched his breathing to mine.
"When that is done? I will settle down on a remote farm. I will build a family, in whatever way it happens to grow. And then I will finally have the satisfaction of growing old with my kin... And of seeing my children outlive me. And when I pass? I will pass in peace. Surrounded by nothing but love. And the sense that in all things, and all my lives... I did all that I could to spread love. And Harmony."
When I opened my eyes, I could see tears in his once more. He squeezed my hoof again, and when he spoke, it was clear he was fighting back the urge to cry more openly.
"I hope that you will still stay in touch with those of us who know you best. And that you will stay a long stint with us in the Kingdoms when you make it there on your journey. There will be a place for you in our hall. Always. And in Fyrenn and Neyla's too, if I'm not mistaken."
I nodded, and snorted in amusement as I thought about Fyrenn, Neyla, and Alyra. I could not resist a comment on that situation. It felt nice to think about something so pure, and wholesome.
"It does an old soul great good to see those two coming together at last. Perhaps preparing for their ceremony will help me forget the pain for a little while. I know that all need time to cope, both within and outside the castle... But I confess that I am looking forward to putting Earth and its troubles far from my mind, if only for a little while."
Sildinar nodded in turn, and sighed deeply before offering his own thoughts.
"Whatever form it took, I am just happy to see Fyrenn with a family. He was so lonely when we first met... So isolated... Not unlike an individual metaphor for our kind as a whole. Tough, hardened, wise, dependable, deadly, honorable... But lonely, hollowed out... Emotionally stunted... Friendless."
I smiled, deeply and warmly in a way that touched the deepest part of my chest for the first time in days.
"And look at us now. So many strides towards a greater unity..."
We both stared into each other's eyes for a long, intimate, though not exactly romantic moment. It was mane-raisingly close to that, but still definitively platonic. I snorted a gentle, trilling snort from my nostrils as I completed the thought.
"...*That* should do any soul, young or old, a world of good to think about."
Sildinar returned the depth of my smile, and reciprocated my warmth in his own voice.
"Yes. It does indeed."
Then he lifted my hoof, and offered a peck of a kiss on the fetlock; A gentlemanly, kind, loving, elegant, and proprietous gesture.
I let myself blush openly, and I dipped my head in a subtle imitation of a courtesy, before giggling momentarily, then settling down, eyes closed, into a secluded, restful position under his wing.
And for an hour, a blissful hour that did more good for my body and soul than any magic beyond friendship ever could... I at last silently, successfully pretended that I didn't have a care in the world.