The equestrians had to keep friendship at bay. The nightmare overlords could return if magic did. The seal would only work if magic remained low. So, the survivors had to prevent it from growing as it naturally would. The species separated. Even the ponies broke up into their old tribes.
—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”
She blinked.
Rizi rested on the softest thing ever. It felt like feathers. Her tail was blown back and forth by the wind as it laid off the side of whatever she was laying upon. The stars overhead shone bright. Warm bodies lay to her right and her left.
She blinked.
The sky was blue. There were the cries of gulls. Closing her eyes, she could smell the sea in the breeze. It smelled clean and free of decay.
She blinked.
The night sky turned overhead slowly. There was the sound of waves. And singing. Beautiful singing.
She blinked.