Chains Of Gold

by Dawn Leaper

And It Begins Anew

"All of you who stand in front of this altar are different," Luster Dawn's voice was solemn, "have different colours, speak different languages, some have wings or claws. But we all have something in common. Spike was the most light-hearted, sweet, friendly, accepting creature I have ever had the privilege of meeting. We gather here on this day to bid him, too soon, farewell."

Twilight vaguely noticed the sharp spears of grief that were carefully concealed through her student's voice as she performed her eulogy.

Things had been a blur.

She hadn't actually been entirely sure how she had gotten here.

She just remembered weeping on the road for hours, her magic lashing out at any sympathetic handmaiden who dared to try comfort her. Her personal spell-masters had cast a subtle Avertion Jinx, so that ponies would not lay eyes on the scene of the Princess mourning.

She remembered being coaxed off the road, back into the Palace, once the sky had bled into darkness and the stars peeked out, unfairly bright.

Spike would never get to see the stars again.

She remembered something soft, and warm. Her bed? She remembered soothing mutterings and murmurings from her mares-in-waiting, someone pressing a warm, wet cloth to her cheeks and forehead. It felt like her mother kissing her goodnight, as if she were a little foal again. Her mother was gone, though. Everyone was.

She remembered the door opening and closing, she remembered somepony coming in, with a hesitant "Princess?", before being ushered out again.

She remembered someone trying to feed her a soupy broth. She remembered refusing.

It was like patches of light and dark, moments of shining clarity before she plunged back into the confusion and nightmares.

She did not want, nor need, to recall the dreams.

She remembered being woken for daybreak. The light had strung through the curtains. She did not like the sun anymore.

She remembers being pulled at, gently tugged, someone running a brush tenderly through her hair, gold plates being placed on her feet, something heavy and cold rested onto her head.

She was numb.

Luster's voice sang out, shaking her out of the cloud of confusion, if only for a minute.

No black, Luster had insisted. Nopony was to wear black. You were to wear bright, colourful, celebratory tones, worthy of the Ambassador of Friendship.

Noblestallions and mares, Lords, Counts, rulers of foreign empires, musicians, artists, friends, family, staff members, with whom Spike had always treated as an equal.

Everyone who wished to be there was there, celebrating thing they had in common.

The one person who ought to have been there, but wasn't.

The one person who would never stand by her side again. The one person who always had.

His funeral was a blur.

At one point, Luster seemed to address her, and eyes flickered towards her expectantly, waiting for her to say something.

"Princess Twilight has known Spike for longer than anyone else in this room. They say they learnt together."

Twilight took that as her cue.

"Um, yes," she coughed, feeling desperately unable to get the air she needed in her lungs to speak. "Spike was... he was..."

The words failed her. She willed them to come, tried to shape her lips around them, but her throat was hollow, and her chest empty. The ponies' gazes were suffocating-

"He was a constant in my aunt's life," a sweet voice rescued her. Twilight felt herself being pulled down gently, back into her seat, as the mare next to her stood.

Her lovely niece, whom she had not even realised she was seated next to in her confusion.

Flurry Heart's speech, pretty and clear, like bells, enraptured the audience. "Spike meant everything to her. To us. He was there when the Princess married Captain Flash. He was there for the birth of their children. He was there for their deaths. Now it is his, and we do not know how to take it. All we can say is that the amount she misses him by is immeasurable. It cannot be put into words. But let it be known that as long as there is love, and memory, he will live on, in our thoughts. He will not be forgotten."

Afterwards, Flurry Heart found her on the balcony overlooking Canterlot. The city seemed less spectacular now. What was a place, without the people you know within it?

Her niece said nothing, only came and rested her head on Twilight's shoulder. Some part of the monarch was grateful for her niece's warmth.

"I miss him," was the only thing Twilight could think to say.

Flurry Heart nodded. "It has only been two days, but I do as well. I grew up around him. I know not a world without him."

Twilight could feel the Crystal Princess' tears, hot and wet, on her shoulder.

"I loved him," Twilight whispered, "he was my dearest friend. My longest companion. And now he is gone. And I could not save him. I couldn't-"

"Hush, dear Twilight," Flurry Heart lifted her head and raised Twilight's chin gently to meet her gaze. The Princess of Love really was beautiful, with her defined cheekbones and curling mane and soft lips, so like Cadence that Twilight's eyes seemed to trick her for a moment.

"Tell me... what is grief, if not love, persisting?" Flurry Heart smiled sadly, her eyes a stunning, heartbreakingly crystal blue. Shining's eyes, Twilight thought, a piece of her brother left to be treasured forever.

"Grief," Flurry continued, "is all the love with nowhere to go. It gathers in the hollows of your chest, and the corners of your eyes where it falls out as tears, and the painful lump in your throat. You have too much love, for Spike, for Flash and Cori, and Star and Tia. Sometimes we must simply let it go. Let everything go."

The Lady of Love spoke nothing but the truth.

"I do not think I have ever really come to terms with it," Twilight murmured, after a while. "The fact that I won't die. I have acknowledged it, yes. I have realised my struggle with it. I did a long time ago. But I don't think I will ever be alright with it."

"Oh, Auntie," Flurry Heart exhaled, tucking her head into Twilight's shoulder. "Perhaps that is enough. You do not need to be alright with it. You do not need to feel immune to feeling. You simply must live with it."

Twilight said nothing, but even so, Flurry wrapped a warm wing around her aunt, even though Twilight was a least a foot taller than the younger alicorn.

The action reminded Twilight of Cadence doing the same thing to her aunt, Twilight's beloved teacher, whom as well bore the crown that rested upon Twilight's head.

"Who will come after me," Twilight sighed. "That is what he asked me. I still have yet to answer him."

"Perhaps your student, Luster Dawn? She led the service this afternoon, and is quite eloquent. She would grow into the role nicely." There was a sweetness and admiration in her niece's tone that made Twilight flicker her gaze momentarily to the other Princess.

"Hmm," was all Twilight said, "yet I suppose she has yet to Ascend to divinity."

"Who says that a Princess has to be an alicorn?" Flurry Heart raised an eyebrow. "Dear Aunt, it is the twentieth century. I fear your old, haggard mind is still trapped in ye olden days."

Twilight chuckled, smiling for what felt like the first time in days. "You are quite right, Flurry. Perhaps what I meant is... I feel as perhaps she is not yet fully ready to take the crown. She has important lessons to learn yet, and even after, there still will be more to learn."

Flurry Heart's face contorted into a frown. "Aunt Twilight... Pardon me, but I hope I do not anticipate your abdication? Yes, the line of succession is something to contemplate, but we should not consider this reality so soon?"

"Of course, Flurry," Twilight stroked her niece's mane reassuringly. "You are young yet. I have more to teach you on running an Empire. I have no intention of passing on the rulership so soon."

"I am relieved to hear so," Flurry's shoulders sagged a little.

"Perhaps, one day, it will be you, Flurry Heart. Perhaps you will be the one to unite two Empires, at last. Or it could be Luster. Yes?"

"Perhaps," Flurry shrugged. "Perhaps it will be both of us, together. Or someone else entirely."

"That it what I told Spike." Twilight sighed ruefully.

"Come, Auntie," Flurry Heart led Twilight gently away from the balcony's edge. "Let us greet your people. Show them that their leader is strong enough to brave this loss. I, for one, know you are."

And they descended the steps, together.

Luster rested her forehead across the cool glass window and stared up at the moon, the black sky around it freckled with blue stars.

It had been a hard day.

She was nowhere near as close with Spike as Twilight was, but over three years as being Twilight's pupil had shown her he was kind, faithful, loyal and deceivingly perceptive.

Nobody had been able to coax Twilight out of her Chambers to conduct the ceremony, or to even plan the funeral service. She understood, Luster thought. She couldn't imagine what she would do if she lost her dearest friend in an awful way like that.

So, the Palace officials turned to her, as Element of Magic. She had been equal parts honoured and apprehensive. Surely there were better, more experienced people to conduct the ceremony, she asked. They shook their heads. Twilight had been their princess long enough that they knew she would have nobody who did not know Spike personally.

It had been perhaps the most terrifying moment of her life, standing up in front of all those eyes and judging stares. But she had put those thoughts aside, and focused on who the attention was on.

She hoped Spike would've appreciated her sermon.

Still, she had felt the collective sigh of relief as Twilight stepped back into the room, shadowed by the sweet Flurry Heart, who seemed ready to intervene if her aunt was overwhelmed. The Love Princess was as beautiful as all the rumours had said, not to mention gracious and well spoken. Perhaps one day they could get to know one another better.

She had better rejoin the gathering. She could still hear chatter coming from downstairs, some jovial, some sombre.

But she leant her head against the window and thought, instead.

She thought of her past. She thought of her friends. She thought of her future.

She looked up at the stars, until her eyes grew dizzy and blood rushed to her head, as if the Heavens could perhaps spill an inkling of what the Fates had in store for her. Of why Spike was taken from them so soon.

It was cliché, but Luster knew life was unpredictable. She did not know if she would ever become an alicorn like the Princesses. She did not know if she would ever live up to the expectations her mentor held for her. She would go and comfort Twilight later the best she could. She would try her best, as she always had. As she always would.

So no, Luster Dawn did not know what the future held in store for her, what curveballs and tragedies and joys and triumphs and failures that lay in wait.

But she knew that she would face them head on, and enjoy every last second of the time she had left on this earth, because Spike had not known he would be gone so quickly. He taught her, even in death.

"Luctor et emergo," Twilight had said to her once, as they studied neoclassical philosophy. "Atrox melior dulcissima, veritas mendaciis."

Struggle and emerge. The bitter truth is always better than the sweetest lies.

In the darkness, two wings took shape. They were golden, a dawn-hued shade of deepest pink, and rippled softly in the wind. They formed on the back of a tall unicorn mare, who's cutie mark- a rising sun rippling sunlight over a plane- burned brightly like all the suns in the sky. The mare's silhouette was golden and tawny and glowing, half-corporeal, half-insubstantial as the mortal body was imbued with a divinely power, and the nature of the magic shifted as mortal magic became immortal.

Her work was complete.

Some part of Twilight smiled and faded as her breath whispered away beneath her. She could hear the panicked calls and fretting of her attendants, but the bed was soft and warm, and the picture behind her eyelids was beautiful.

She knew she was fading, disappearing into her most divinely form. She would continue to exist, but not in the physical realm, but rather in every laugh friends shared, every secret passed between a strong bond. She couldn't wait to see her family again.

Friendship closed her eyes, and almost as if she were drifting to sleep, disappeared.