“Flurry?”
Flurry Heart snorted and snapped her eyes open. “I’m awake.”
She tried to lift her head, but her cheek was stuck to a page of the book. She peeled it back with her hoof carefully and smoothed it down. The words weren’t too badly smudged, but ‘Daring Do’ looked a little like ‘Darling Do’ in the middle of the page. She cringed at the chime of magic to her left and sheepishly looked up.
Auntie Twilight raised an eyebrow and levitated her bookmark into the dictionary. “I appreciate you using my technique to avoid water damage.” She shook her head and the light purple stripe in her mane bounced around her horn.
She smiled and her violet eyes crinkled. “Not quite as prodigious as Pinkie Pie.” Her horn glowed softly.
Flurry felt the book under her hooves vibrate. The page straightened and the words ran together for a moment before correcting themselves. She prodded the dry page with the tip of her right hoof.
Twilight hummed and her horn dimmed. “You know what ‘prodigious’ means?”
“A lot,” Flurry guessed. “Context clues.” She traced her stubby hoof over the page to the paragraph she left off on. It took her a moment and she stuck her tongue out.
“Well,” Twilight drew the word out. “Close enough.”
Flurry felt a purple wing wrap around her barrel. She leaned into it and wriggled on the checkered picnic blanket. The shade of the tree beside them mostly blocked the sun. It was a cold winter day beyond the shield, but the tundra around the Crystal City was clear.
Snowberry Park was quiet. The statue of Princess Amore watched over a gazebo in the center and several winding paths that swirled like snowflakes. Auntie Twilight and Flurry had a good view under the small pine tree.
Flurry shuffled the book under her wing to shield it from her juice box. It wobbled slightly in her magic, but she sucked the last of the grape juice dry and crumpled it into a ball. She looked to Auntie Twilight.
The purple mare smiled and nodded her horn.
Flurry aimed. She closed one eye and stuck her tongue out. The crumpled ball bobbed in her magic before firing out with a zap, sailing high towards the trash can along the sidewalk.
It bounced off the rim and landed on the path. Twilight chuckled and a chime of magic rang out. The smashed juice box reappeared next to Flurry. “Would you like to try again?”
Flurry pouted and folded her forelegs with a huff. The entire trashcan glowed and moved slightly to the right. She lined up the throw again with another squint.
The juice box fell to the left.
Flurry stomped a little hoof into the blanket. “Urgh!”
“You could just hold it the entire way,” Auntie Twilight remarked. “Adjusting the target doesn’t mean you’ll throw it to the same place every time.” Her horn chimed and the juice box snapped back to them.
“I don’t wanna hold it,” Flurry whined. This time, she did carry it in her magic all the way to the trashcan and slowly lower it. She rolled her eyes afterwards. “Gonna just drag the can over here next time.”
“Please,” Auntie Twilight wrinkled her muzzle. “Do not bring a stinky garbage can over here. Not near my books.”
Flurry thought about it and giggled. “Yeah.”
Twilight regarded her own book, a very thick dictionary, and pinched her eyes. “What word did you happen to fall asleep on?”
Flurry bit her lip.
“Different question,” Twilight laughed shrilly and awkwardly. “What word were we looking up?”
Flurry looked down to Daring Do and the Thestrals’ Curse. She moved her lips, then stopped self-consciously with a worried glance at Auntie Twilight. Her auntie had leaned over and read along by the skipping of her eyes over the page.
Flurry shifted her hoof along the page. “The effer-ves-cant light washed over the room-”
“Effervescent,” Twilight corrected, lingering on the syllables. Her bookmark snapped the dictionary open and she held it up to her muzzle with a hoof. “Bright, lively, and spirited. What is it?”
“An adjective,” Flurry sighed. “Why didn’t Daring Do just say ‘bright’ then?”
“It’s not just bright,” Auntie Twilight answered. “Finish the sentence.”
“The effervescent light washed over the room, washing away the unicorn and his wicked blade.” Flurry hummed and leaned her head up. “Not the Thestrals?”
“No,” Twilight shook her head.
“Didn’t they think the staff would undo the curse?” Flurry asked. She tilted her horn to the side and checked the cover. Daring Do stood with flared wings against a shadowy vampony in the trees with wicked red eyes. Flurry was almost convinced the vampony was evil, but the unicorn pointing a hoof at the bat pony had a goatee and hid a smirk under his raised foreleg.
“There is no curse,” Twilight explained patiently. “There’s nothing to fix. They’re fine just as they are. The ponies trying to ‘fix’ them are the real villains.”
“Duh,” Flurry nodded. “I like their floofy ears. Is that why Daring teams up with Caballeron?”
“Yes,” Twilight answered. She put her hoof on the page and turned down to Flurry fully. “Just because they might eat cooked insects or fruit or have fangs doesn’t mean they’re that different. Or evil.”
“Like Thorax,” Flurry chirped. “Sometimes he just needs extra-long hugs.”
Twilight smiled. “Yes. The evil Professor Nightingale was hoping that the staff would take away what made them special and make them like everypony else. He thought it would be better.”
“Like Starlight?” Flurry asked.
Twilight sputtered for a moment and waved her hoof in the air. “Well, that was just a stick, but, uh, yes.” She looked to the side. “Maybe don’t tell her that, okay?”
“Okay,” Flurry nodded. She frowned down at the book. “I thought it would be more scary.”
“I think it’s plenty scary.” Twilight’s wing shuddered too much and tickled Flurry’s side. “But I suppose you’re a very brave five-year-old filly.”
“Seven,” Flurry corrected.
Auntie Twilight opened her mouth with a gasp. She raised her other wing and counted down her feathers. Her lidded eyes went to her niece beside her as she mouthed numbers slowly.
“Fine,” Flurry snorted. “Six.” She caught the newspaper under Auntie Twilight’s other wing and partially hidden by the picnic basket. Twilight lowered her wing and leaned her head back down, nuzzling the top of Flurry’s swirly mane.
“I was wondering if I needed to tell Sunburst to add more multiplication tables.” She tugged on a knotted curl with her teeth for a moment to fix it. Flurry patted her head down with a hoof.
“He says I shouldn’t count with my feathers,” Flurry countered. She fanned her right wing out from under Twilight’s on her back and wiggled her primary feathers. “I have plenty.” Her left wing remained snug against Twilight’s barrel.
“Do you want to look like some northern barbarian?” Twilight whickered. The lilt in her voice was teasing. “Will you come down to Canterlot with rings in your mane?”
“Uh-huh,” Flurry nodded. “I’ll have a sword.”
“What kind of sword?”
“Big.”
“Perfectly perfunctory for my M.M.N.N.”
Most Marvelous Nice Niece. Flurry smirked and showed off the gap in her teeth. “Of course, Awesome Auntie Twi.”
“Even barbarians need to read,” Twilight answered. “How else will they know if they’re burning treasure maps?”
The smaller alicorn flicked her tail, but could not find fault in that logic. She returned to the book. She was near the end anyway, and the villain was going to have a breakdown from failing and learn a lesson about friendship.
Her mind drifted to the newspaper. “Auntie Twi?” Flurry felt two feathers tap her ribs. She was skinny and they tickled. She giggled but focused. “Can you look up another word?”
She could hear the smile in Twilight’s voice in her tone. “Of course. Is it on this page?” Her aunt leaned down atop her head, mindful of her pink horn sticking out of her blue and purple curls. She squinted and scanned both pages of the open book.
“No,” Flurry explained. She placed a hoof on the page to save her spot. “Surrender.”
Twilight was quiet.
“Did I say it right?”
“You did,” Twilight said softly. She leaned her head back and exhaled, pushing her breath out with a foreleg. “I suppose you saw the paper?”
Flurry nodded. “Mom turned the radio off this morning. I wanted to hear Sapphire Shores.”
Twilight’s horn glowed and she slowly withdrew a folded newspaper from under her wing and the basket. Some pages had been used to wrap the daisy and cucumber sandwiches, but not the front page. It was mostly a giant headline.
OLENIA SURRENDERS
“Olenia’s the deer, right?” Flurry asked. “Deer live there.”
“Yes,” Twilight said. She stared at the newspaper floating before both of them for a minute. Flurry flicked her ears and waited. When Auntie Twilight got into her thinking space, it was bad to interrupt her. She was very smart, the smartest pony in the world by Flurry’s count.
“Let’s…” Twilight paused, “let’s read along. For a bit.”
Flurry looked up at the floating paper and squinted. Annoyingly, most of the front page was just the giant two words. “Umm…The Winter War is over today with the…the ca-pit-u-lation of King Johan’s army around Vaverfront. The King broadcast a message of peace to the Changeling Hegemony, and officials are…op-tim-istic the…the death toll was low.”
There was more on the next page, but Twilight did not flip it over. She lowered the paper and folded it at her hooves. Flurry waited patiently for her assessment. She rubbed her hoof on the page, careful not to smear off her lacquer. Her hooves were shiny and bright.
“What do you think surrender means?” Twilight asked. She had closed her eyes and was facing the park.
Flurry rolled her eyes to the side and thought. “Give up? Is that what that other word meant?”
“Capitulation,” Twilight enunciated. “Yes. It’s another way of saying ‘give up.’ It makes it sound very official, doesn’t it?”
“Isn’t…” Flurry frowned and sucked on the gap in her teeth. “Mom said Velvet was Queen.”
“It’s complicated,” Twilight replied. “Johan is her brother.”
“So they share like Aunties Celestia and Luna?”
“Perhaps more like Nightmare Moon and Celestia,” Twilight snarked before she could stop herself. She flinched.
Flurry giggled. “Is Velvet like Nightmare Moon, then? Is that why she’s in Canterlot?”
“No,” Twilight shook her head. “It isn’t the same. What about the rest?”
Flurry glanced down at the paper and thought about the second sentence. The clues were harder on that one. Message of peace…officials are…what? What would Sunburst be?
The little alicorn frowned. “I dunno what the other word means. Happy?”
“Hopeful,” Twilight said. “Optimistic. They are hoping for something good.”
“So they’re happy not many ponies died?” Flurry questioned. “Or, uh, deer and changelings?”
Twilight opened her eyes and looked over to her niece. Her wing tightened against her. “You’re a very smart filly,” she said softly. “Would you be happy if anypony died?”
“No,” Flurry answered.
“They’re happy it was over quickly. And hopeful very few were hurt.”
“Who?”
“Everyone. Ponies, changelings, deer.” Twilight nuzzled the top of Flurry’s head again. “Sombra wanted war. It’s awful.”
Flurry stared out to the statue of Amore in the center of the park. Her ancestor was all white marble with a dazzling smile. It was a quiet day. There were a few crystal ponies enjoying the small pond nearby, and Flash Sentry was leaning against one of the railings of the gazebo with his helmet off. He caught her look and waved a wing. His muzzle was caked in peanut butter from his own sandwich.
Flurry snorted and crossed her eyes. Twilight wasn’t looking at Flash. I need to tell mom later it’s hopeless. Her eyes drifted to the newspaper and the giant blocky letters.
“Thorax said Chrysalis wanted a war.”
Twilight shifted. “Yes. She got one.” The alicorn withdrew her head and smiled down at her niece. “I am optimistic that’s all she will get.”
Flurry smiled back. “Mom and dad are gonna kick her bug butt.”
Twilight lifted both her wings and nickered, “Flurry!”
“What?” Flurry pouted. “Thorax said it was okay.”
“You shouldn’t call them bugs,” Twilight stated flatly. “That’s like calling Thestrals ‘bats.’ And who did that?”
“Professor Nightingale,” Flurry sighed. “The villain.” Her stomach growled and she froze, optimistic her pink fur hid the blush.
“Those ‘little wings’ need a lot of sandwiches,” Twilight smirked. “I packed extra. There’s only two chapters left.” Her horn glowed and a pink bookmark floated out of the basket. “Save your spot-”
“I wanna finish,” Flurry interrupted. She switched to her wing holding down the open book and rubbed her hooves together laying on the blanket. “Please, Auntie Twi? Professor Nightingale’s gonna freakout and Daring's gonna kick his butt.”
Twilight cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. “Have you read this before?”
“That’s what they always do when their plans are foiled.” Flurry hoped that using ‘foiled’ when be enough.
It was. Twilight smirked. “I suppose our sandwiches can wait,” she allowed, “but if you run into a word you stumble on, we’ll take a break. I might not be back for a while, Flurry. We should finish today.”
“Okay,” Flurry accepted. She turned back to the book.
They finished the chapter without interruptions, then had some sandwiches and another juice box. Flurry watched Twilight throw the newspaper into the trashcan after crumpling it into a ball. She missed too. Flurry had giggled at her.
Flash Sentry walked them back to the palace just before the evening. The sandwiches made Flurry sleepy so she rode on Auntie Twilight’s back through the Crystal Plaza and waved at the statue of Sir Spike. Twilight had stayed another morning before catching a train back to Equestria. Flurry waved goodbye from her place at the breakfast table.
She never saw Auntie Twilight again until she opened the door in Canterlot.
Flurry Heart froze with her hoof pressing down on the last sentence of the page.
“You know that word,” Twilight commented. “Encouragement. It’s what I’m doing right now.”
“She was coming for us next.” Flurry’s voice sounded strange to her ears. It was higher and squeakier; she lacked the clipped consonants of Nova Griffonia or the rolling vowels of Aquileia. She sounded like her mother.
Luna. Flurry looked around. “P-princess Luna?”
“Auntie Luna’s in Canterlot,” Auntie Twilight reminded her. “There’s another meeting about the Thestrals in a few days. I have to get back to the School of Friendship.” Her voice turned teasing. “Boring Princess stuff, not for a little-winged barbarian.”
“Chrysalis was coming for us next!” Flurry squeaked. She stabbed her stubby hoof at the book and bent the binding. Twilight didn’t react. “You had to have known!”
“I did,” Twilight confirmed, “but that’s not something you needed to worry about.”
Flurry stared out over the calm park. It was a day like any other. Her icy eyes sparkled. “She destroyed all of this. She’s a monster.”
“Nopony, no one, is born evil. Not even Chrysalis.” Twilight shook her head. “She was born into a brutal caste system that enforced all the worst qualities of a monarch: unthinking obedience and absolute control. She has reasons for what she does, however cruel they are. Her entire life has been about ambition.”
Flurry shut her eyes and snorted.
“I did not want my M.M.N.N. to worry.”
The smaller alicorn laid her head on the book. “She invaded. We weren’t ready. We should have worried. We should have been galloping into factories and churning out guns.” Her eyes searched the park.
“Ponies were optimistic,” Twilight said. Flurry could not place her tone. Flash Sentry was gone in the gazebo.
“Flash died on the front,” Flurry whickered. “Mom kept trying to set you up. Dunno why.”
“That was kind of her,” Twilight laughed. “I was a little too busy for romance.”
Flurry ran her tongue over her teeth. She flew into a crystal doorframe and knocked out one of her baby teeth turning a corner too sharply. She did not remember if she cried. I must have.
“I met Cozy Glow,” Flurry remarked.
Twilight withdrew her wing and folded it at her side. She rubbed a hoof on the blanket. “I am glad you did.”
“You left her in Tartarus.”
“I did not mean to,” Twilight’s voice was low and resigned. “The School of Friendship was failing. I wanted to open it to everyone, and the first class was rallied against the only non-ponies in attendance. I believed in it. And I trusted her.”
“So she deserved it?”
“If she wanted to act like a villain like Tirek, I figured a summer or two beside him might change her perspective.” Twilight looked to the side. “It was not going to be forever.”
“She hates you. All of you.”
“I understand,” Twilight shrugged a hoof. Flurry laid her head atop the book for a minute. The newspaper was folded before Twilight’s forelegs. The smaller alicorn huffed a single laugh. “What’s humorous?” Twilight asked.
“You surrendered to Tirek,” Flurry deadpanned. “Or capitulated. I never thought of it like you gave up. But you did. You gave up. He sent mom to Tartarus. And Auntie Celestia and Luna.”
“Yes.” Twilight did not say more.
“You could have fought him. You could have won.”
“I might have,” Twilight agreed. “He gave me a choice. My friends or my magic.”
Flurry licked her lips. “How…how did you know it would work?” She stared up at Twilight.
Auntie Twilight smiled down at her. “I didn’t,” she said simply.
Flurry’s lips trembled. “B-but…Equestria…everyone…”
“I didn’t know if we’d beat him,” Twilight explained slowly, “but I knew we’d have a better chance together than I would have had alone.”
“All he had to do was break your neck.”
“Yes,” Twilight accepted. “But he didn’t. And we won. Together.”
“You had mom’s magic!” Flurry raised her voice. It cracked. “You had Auntie Celestia’s and Luna’s! You gave it all up! You had nothing! You didn’t have a better chance!”
“With my friends?” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “I’d be a pretty poor Princess of Friendship if I didn’t choose to trust in my friends.”
Flurry’s eyes wandered upwards. Twilight had her mane styled into bangs. She usually did, with the lighter purple stripe next to her horn. She tilted her head to the side while she waited.
“You weren’t just the Princess of Friendship.”
“No,” Twilight acknowledged. “I was a Princess of Equestria. I had to choose.”
Was. Flurry closed her eyes and exhaled. “You still are.”
“Am I?” Twilight asked.
Flurry stood on her shorter legs and leaned into Twilight’s barrel. She reared to wrap her legs around her aunt’s neck and hugged her with forehooves and wings. Twilight returned it and gently pushed her away.
“Always.” Flurry opened her eyes and sniffled. “I need your help.”
“With what?” Twilight smiled.
“Everything.”
Twilight shook her head softly, still with a smile. “That’s not what you’re really asking.”
“I want to know how you did it,” Flurry whispered. “How mom and dad did it. You beat them. You did it the right way. I tried. With the Crystal Heart. I tried so hard.”
“I know you did,” Twilight said kindly. “But that still isn’t your question.”
“Why didn’t it work?” Flurry hung her head low. “Do I not love them enough?”
“Do you think your parents loved each other less during the war?” Twilight asked in return. “Or that my friends stopped being friends? Do you think it’s our fault?”
“No,” Flurry answered.
“Then why do you think it is yours?” Twilight brushed one of her wings across Flurry’s mane. The little alicorn felt the feathers touch metal. Flurry’s horn glowed. In the edges of her vision, she saw the aura twist from gold to blue to gold. She did not remember wearing her tiara in the park.
She pulled her golden crown off her head and it plinked down atop her old book. Flurry sat down on her flank and picked it up. It looked bigger in her hooves. “I don’t understand.”
“I wish everyone could see the world like me,” Twilight sighed. “Everyone can be friends if we could see past our differences.” She folded her legs and stared placidly out into the park.
Flurry blinked a few times to clear her eyes before following her look.
Pharynx and Thorax sat beside a chess table. She wasn’t sure how she knew it was them. Thorax had strange orange antlers and a green body, while his brother was more purple and red. They were taller than they should be. Even with Sunburst leaning against her uncle’s side and whispering strategies, Thorax was losing badly. Both brothers were still smiling, and their carapaces sparkled in the light.
Across from the chess table, Triton Blackpeak and his wife sat beside a picnic basket. Triton built a sandwich for his daughter with deft claws. Elise accepted it happily and flapped her wings to settle in the branches of the tree above them. The husband and wife split the remaining pieces between each other.
Her name was Elise. She looked happy between her parents.
Red Dawn whinnied in laughter as she knocked a ball to her daughters. The two smaller earth ponies scrambled to keep up, little legs churning the grass. They ran around the tree and bounced the ball up into the branches. Elise kicked it back down with a squawking laugh.
Near the pond, Trimmel, missing his cap and headset and looking years younger, sat on a bench beside a tiny crystal colt. He passed Quartz ice cream with a glowing horn, then leaned back with buzzing wings. Quartz savored his between his forelegs. They sat together calmly. Garnet fed a swan, tossing bits of bread into the water and watching with a wrinkled smile.
Sophie Altiert and her husband flew in circles above the center of the park, shouting encouragement to their son. He flapped along slowly and wobblily. Sophie cheered in Aquileian. He struggled to get higher than the statue in the center.
Flurry paused.
The statue in the center was no longer Princess Amore.
Three figures stood frozen on a plinth.
Cozy Glow had pressed her hooves to her cheeks in shock.
Tirek was flinching with his eyes shut.
And Queen Chrysalis was in a lunge with a fang-filled maw in a wide snarl.
Jachs and Alcippe stood before the trio on the path. The mare laughed high and stuck her tongue out, imitating the Queen. The stallion laughed with her. Second Wind waved them along with a lazy wing, golden armor catching the sunlight and sparkling.
The pegasus walked away with them, following a path to the gazebo in the distance. Flurry could see a changeling before an easel and covered in paint splotches while another leaned against the railing. The leaning one waved a wine bottle in welcome to the others as they approached. All of the changelings glittered and twisted into different colors the longer she stared.
It took Flurry years or seconds to find her voice. “Please. This was real, wasn’t it?”
Twilight Sparkle did not answer.
Her niece swallowed and choked out, “I need to know it was.”
“I believed it was,” Twilight answered.
Flurry Heart stared at the golden crown in her forelegs. It was a cheap thing, made of melted wedding rings and fillings and discolored. She could see the scuff marks and scorched chinks from her spells. It felt heavy. And it was.
"I believed in it," Twilight repeated. The other alicorn twisted her head.
Flurry Heart flinched away from the mare next to her. Twilight’s feathers were falling out onto the grass, and her forelegs struggled to hold the dictionary in front of her. She was far, far too thin, and her horn had a wide divot at the base.
Flurry exhaled, shuffled her stubby hooves, then forced her eyes back to her aunt.
“Are you afraid?” Twilight’s voice was the same, still warm and kindly when it should not have been by any right. The fur around her muzzle was patchy and the skin red underneath. Her eyes were still bright.
“Yes,” Flurry answered in a small voice.
“It’s okay to be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid of that.” Flurry swung her head to the park. “I’m afraid of what happens to them.”
“You can’t worry about them,” Twilight said reassuringly. She smiled and the skin stretched. “It will be okay.”
Flurry closed her eyes again. “How do you know that?”
“Because I have faith in friendship,” Twilight answered.
Flurry sighed and looked over. Her aunt was back to the way she was that day in the park. Her mane was a little ruffled from the wind, purple stripe winding near her horn. Twilight smiled down at her niece.
She was not wearing a crown.
“How did you do it?” Flurry pleaded.
“Oh, Flurry,” Twilight sighed. “You have a good heart. Listen to it.”
Flurry listened and sniffled. “It’s telling me it won’t work anymore.”
Twilight did not respond.
“You aren’t really her, are you?”
“I never held a weapon, Flurry.” The mare’s smile was faint, just a quirk of the lips. “I am just what you believe I would say to you…not what you fear I would.”
Flurry shut her eyes and placed the crown back upon her head in her magic. The aura around her horn swirled from blue to gold. The laughter and joy ringing through the park ceased. She opened her eyes.
She sat beside Twilight Sparkle in an empty park. The plinth in the center cracked with a low roar, and the statues began to break apart. Tirek crumbled away first, pieces flaking and falling to ash that blew away in a sudden wind. Cozy Glow was second.
Chrysalis remained in her frozen snarl, baring her fangs at the world in rage. Her statue did not crack nor crumble. It remained in defiance of everything. Beyond the pink shield high above them, clouds swirled and darkened the sky. The storm wall gathered again. The statue’s eyes were gleeful, even when angry.
It would be very easy to leave it. Flurry could still remove the crown and turn away. It might crack and crumble on its own. It probably would, given time. The cost might be too great. To her ponies, and to herself. She would never know peace. Flurry raised a hoof up to the cheap crown and hesitated.
If she did, if she left, could she live with herself? Or would she always wonder what else she could have done? She would do nothing but count the days to a date constantly trailing the horizon, just beyond the gathering storm that seemed to have no end. She would have to tell herself it would end.
Flurry Heart looked to her blank flank and her little legs. If she stood, she might never sit down again. She would only fall, still with a cheap, worthless crown stuck to her head. She would let the crown define her for the rest of her life far more than her wings or horn. If she lived long enough, she may grow to resent it, and that resentment would chafe away all her virtues and hollow her out.
“I was born an alicorn for a reason,” Flurry muttered.
“To live,” Twilight answered. “Nothing more. Everything else is your choice. Destiny is a choice, after all. I could have turned away if I wanted to. I believed in a future. I did everything I could to see it come to pass.”
“Not everything.” Flurry exhaled, then stood to face the statue on taller legs and folded wider wings at her side. She raised her lean muzzle and looked down to her aunt. She was taller than her, if thinner. They were not the same.
Twilight Sparkle, crownless, remained where she was on the blanket beside her dictionary and Daring Do. She had a soft half-smile. She looked up to the golden crown, then to the flaming Crystal Heart at her niece's flank. "It means hope to them. It still does."
Flurry stared for a long time before closing her eyes. “I love you, Auntie Twilight.”
“I love you, Flurry Heart.”
“But I can’t be you.”
Twilight laughed slightly and her voice echoed. “You don’t have to be me, Flurry.”
Flurry opened her eyes. She stared at the ceiling of Celestia’s bedroom.
It was very dark. Her horn glowed gold in the night. There was movement at the window as one of the pegasi peeked through the glass as subtly as they could. Flurry had no immediate way to tell the time beyond that it was still night.
She rolled to look at her nightstand. Whammy sat wearing her old tiara atop a misshapen shell. Her crystal crown was beside the snail, and the six gems glowed with the light from her horn.
Beside both of them, the timepiece sat on the very edge of the little table.
Flurry reached out with a wing and hooked the chain with a few feathers. She lifted it over and took it in her hooves. Her horn swirled above her, winding the exposed gears. After a moment, the sun and moon began to rotate around the star in the center, ticking slowly.
Flurry looped the chain around her head before rolling out of bed. She settled the crystal band under her mane next, twisting it so the purple gem was just under the base of her horn how she liked it. Finally, she made sure the tiara was affixed to Whammy’s shell with her glue spell before she tucked it under her left wing.
The two dozen guards outside her room did not seem surprised to see her. Some had probably been listening to the movement inside the room. Flurry swung her head around the Imperial soldiers. All were wearing her snowflake on their sleeves. The officer was a unicorn, but she stood beside a crystal stallion in a bright purple uniform. The commissar knelt first.
The others followed his example. Flurry flicked her right wing upwards. “Rise.”
“Where to, Princess?” the unicorn requested.
“Princess Twilight’s room.”
They escorted her without complaint. Flurry judged it was almost dawn from the non-boarded up windows. She had not been asleep that long. The alicorn did not particularly feel tired. The guards along the way bowed as she passed them, even in the early hours. None of her griffons were present.
The crystal commissar glanced backwards. “Shall we inform the kitchen to prepare you breakfast, Princess?”
By that, you mean taste test the cans. “No, thank you.” Flurry did not smile, nor did he seem to expect a smile. The commissar nodded in confirmation and resumed looking ahead.
Twilight’s room remained heavily guarded. Flurry was scanned by three unicorns after they bowed to her at each checkpoint. She approached alone. The posters declaring Cozy was to be shot on sight remained. One had a mustache on the picture, and Flurry suspected the mare managed to draw it herself as a challenge. She must have still been tired because she rolled her eyes at it and snorted.
The final guards before the door opened it for her and dipped their horns low. Flurry stepped through the threshold. Her nose was immediately overwhelmed by disinfectant and her ears twitched at the whoosh of the respirator and the beeping of countless machines. The three nurses, all pegasi, shuffled to the side.
“As you were,” Flurry said to them. She bit her lip before looking over.
Twilight Sparkle laid muzzle-up on the bed with her forelegs tucked against her barrel. She did not wear a gown. There were a few bandages and shaved patches of fur from where the lesions and bedsores had been attended to. A fresh sheet was over her flanks.
Her wings had been extended and braced in an elevated sling. The few feathers remaining looked healthier; at the very least, they were not brittle. But most of her wings were pale flesh.
Flurry Heart stepped forward. The tube down her throat made it bulge, though the angle had been adjusted. It whooshed every time her chest rose or fell. Wires ran from her legs and neck into the surrounding machines on the wall. Her pulse beat steadily. The divot drilled into the base of her horn from the Love Extractor had been filled with adhesive and a crystal placed in it to help focus her magic. Flurry had seen that in a few other unicorns punished that way. Their telekinesis still wobbled.
Wittenland could help you. Flurry imagined her aunt in the Riverlands, dragged there by her loving teacher and mentor. They would tell her to pull the plug, and she would refuse to believe it. She imagined her entire family there, waiting for a day that seemed to only get further and further into the horizon. Her mother feeling every heartbreak while her father poured over lost battles and her aunt dreaming of friendships left to wither.
“You are not the only one who is lost.”
Flurry looked down at her hooves. They faintly sparkled. The heart monitor beeped quietly. Twilight’s eyes were closed, but her ponies attended to her every day. It was clear some groomed her remaining fur and checked her hooves. Her teeth around the respirator even looked brushed.
Flurry looked around at the room. A few tables were in the corners. No chairs. They must have to stand during their shifts. There was precious little decorations, except on one table. Gemstones sat atop a purple-bound book. There were two pictures behind it.
The alicorn crossed to them. One was of six mares in a town square, Twilight front and center. The other was Twilight sitting slightly off-center on a couch with her wings wrapped around her parents. It had been taken just after her coronation. Flurry’s mother and father stood behind the couch with bright grins. There was a small spot on the side of the table. It would be in the very corner of the room and out of the way.
“May I leave something?” Flurry asked the nurses. One’s eyes drifted to the ticking timepiece hanging at her neck, but looked up to her eyes.
“Of course, Princess,” the one wearing the tallest cap said. “We will make sure it remains clean.” Flurry looked from the mare in the bed to the mare in the pictures, then closed her eyes to see the mare in the park with a dictionary on a blanket.
Flurry Heart was not Celestia. Or Luna. Or her mother. Or her father. Or her aunt.
“I know you will wake up,” Flurry said. Her voice was low, squeaking under the beeping of the heart monitor and the whistle of the respirator. “I have faith in you.”
Her wing twitched and lifted the snail toy she clutched to her barrel. “But I can’t wait for you. I have to finish this.” She swallowed. “I can't do it your way. I hope you can forgive me one day.”
Pink feathers left the snail on the bedside table in a small clearing. The brass button eyes made from cufflinks stared at the bed. Flurry pinched two feathers and settled her tiara atop the stuffed shell. It was a little lumpy.
“I can’t wait for you,” Flurry whispered, “but Whammy can. He’ll be right here. When you wake up.” She left the snail in the corner and backed away. One nurse bowed and two nodded to her.
Princess Flurry Heart left. The whoosh of the respirator and beeping did not follow her outside the room. The alicorn waited through three checkpoints before facing her commissar and officer at the end of the hallway. None had commented on the sun and moon winding down around the star.
They bowed just as the amulet stopped.
“Rise,” Flurry Heart ordered with a glowing horn. Before they did, she snapped away.