The next years were kind.
A long line trailed from the entrance of the small Canterlot bookshop. Ponies held books under wings and clutched covers between hooves, swaying with eager jitters or standing tranquil. All of them waited to meet the visiting author on his release tour throughout Equestria.
From across the bookshop, Sunburst watched Stygian with a swell of loving admiration. Stygian signed the thousandth dedication page of Reward Prefers Risk with a plumy black quill and handed the copy back to a chartreuse-colored pegasus colt with a curly blond mane who clapped his hooves tight on the hard covers, pulling it to his chest.
“Thank you so much,” the colt said, his stuttery voice just past the edge of puberty. “I didn’t know if I’d be able to come today.” He rocked subtly, as though the motion could coax the words. “My parents are really strict.”
Stygian listened with patient attention, his eyes squinting behind his thin-framed glasses. “I’m sorry to hear that. I can imagine how difficult your journey must have been.” He smiled. “I’m grateful you’re here, nonetheless.”
“I am, too. Guess I really took the title’s advice.” He laughed, Stygian along with him. “Because, I had to meet you. I just want to tell you — your book really inspired me. I like stallions, but my parents don’t know yet. I think they’ll accept me after a while, but I'm nervous to finally tell them.”
Stygian’s hoof reached to rest on the table. “You’re very brave to hold off until you feel safe. That takes so much courage.”
Behind the yellow-green colt, those standing in line leaned forward, their attention rapt on Stygian’s words.
“The not-knowing will be difficult, but it won’t break you. And when you get your answer, whatever it may be, I hope it brings relief.” He paused, smile growing. “And no matter what, know that out in the world, a sentimental old author wants you to live and to love. Nopony can take that away.”
—
As the signing event drew to a close, Sunburst approached the table. His golden aura wrapped around the few remaining unsold copies of Reward Prefers Risk, boxing them for their return to the store shelves.
“I’m so proud of you,” Sunburst said as Stygian crossed out from behind the table, stretching his legs, stiff from the hours of sitting.
He chuckled, the untuned instrument of his laugh hitting a clean pitch more often than not these days. “You always say that at the end of these.”
“Well, it hasn’t stopped being true!”
They met, closing into an embrace. Stygian’s coat was bare, save for a tan sweater wrapping his forelegs against the chill of the winter season. His old cloak hung in his closet, untouched for a long time. He was soft under Sunburst’s touch, having put a little weight on his lithe figure after enjoying a steady diet of the meals they shared, a consistent trade off between his own expert cooking and Sunburst’s burgeoning acumen as a chef still-in-training. In their home, they always ate well.
As they walked the streets of Canterlot, headed to the train station, Stygian suppressed a yawn. “I hope I make it to Starlight and Trixie’s Hearth’s Warming party.” He rubbed his chest. “If I start nodding off tonight, promise you’ll wake me up before Trixie can draw anything embarrassing on my face.”
“Like I wouldn’t be right there by her side,” Sunburst laughed, bopping the end of Stygian’s pointed nose. “You’d look good with a mustache. Maybe a second pair of glasses?”
“I would not!” Stygian chuckled, batting his hoof away. For good measure, he snatched Sunburst’s glasses and layered them over his own. He blinked, his eyes huge under the double lenses. “What do you think? Do I look good?”
Sunburst squinted at the doubtlessly handsome gray blur in front of him. “That is not a question I can answer in confidence right now.”
Stygian returned his glasses, stroking his cheek. “Then we better not risk finding out at the party tonight.”
The train ride home was Stygian’s saving grace. He napped on Sunburst’s lap, lulled by the shifting rumble of the wheels over the tracks. Sunburst watched the horizon from the window, the low sun reflecting in his glasses, the world sweetened by its honey-gold glare — and the gentle weight of his husband.
Their first anniversary was approaching. In a few months, they would be wedded for a full year, that time stretching longer than any thousand.
Stygian still teared up when he used the word husband to introduce Sunburst, a word he never imagined uttering with ownership. At the wedding, he’d been beside himself. The event was kept to a small, close circle. Ironic, considering its party consisted of celebrated heroes. Starlight had been Sunburst’s best mare; the Pillars stood behind Stygian at the altar. And as the reception rose into full swing – Somnambula tying on her blindfold in preparation for Sunburst’s bouquet toss, Rockhoof softening his giddy steps on the dance floor – Star Swirl had found his way to Stygian.
Their conversation was brief, but amicable. Star Swirl was the only Pillar who stood not at the altar, but in the crowd, watching in humble solidarity. When he met Stygian on the reception floor, an elderly tan stallion with a combed back pale pink mane was by his side. Star Swirl introduced him as his date and Stygian had smiled, shaking the old stallion’s hoof.
As Sunburst watched from across the room, he rubbed his beard, trying to tease out his stirring of recollection. Leaning to Maud, he asked, “Isn’t that your old rockology professor he’s with?”
Maud’s expression hadn’t budged an inch when she said, “This is the funniest moment of my life.”
—
“Okay, my secret gifter is clearly Mudbriar,” Trixie said, indulgently holding up the opened box to reveal a chocolate frosted yule log, dusted with powdered sugar. “Very clever. You know, since it’s wood-themed.”
“Technically,” he announced, “no cleverness was needed. It is a very common dessert for the holiday.”
“Uh-huh — anyway! Starlight!” Trixie gestured grandly to her wife, teeth bared in a smile. “Let’s see yours!”
Starlight giggled, standing to look over the pile of gifts in the center of the chair circle they had pulled together in her and Trixie’s living room. A festive clip resembling a holly sprig was pinned in her mane, Sunburst’s secret gift to her last winter. He and Stygian were side by side, two warm mugs of elderflower tea between them.
“Aha!” In her magic, Starlight lifted a neatly wrapped box with her name on it. She unwrapped it to reveal — “A Neighponese desk sand garden! That’s so lovely.”
Rotating the box, her brow furrowed in thought. “Is this from… Maud? You know, ‘cause… rocks?” She grinned, pointing at the stones pictured on the lid. But, Maud shook her head.
“It’s actually from me.”
Starlight turned to Stygian, beaming in pleasant surprise.
“My old therapist had one in his office,” he said. “I know it’s been a long time since you were the School of Friendship counselor, but I’m sure your students may still appreciate it on your desk. It’s very soothing.” He smiled, raising his mug to take a diffident sip of tea.
“I love it, Stygian. And so will the students.” She held it to her chest.
Sunburst turned to Stygian, smiling as he nuzzled his ear. “I told you she would like it.” He nodded to the remaining gifts. “Your turn?”
Stygian moved to get up, but Starlight raised her hoof in pause. “Actually, I’m going to break tradition.”
Stygian and Sunburst shared a glance as Starlight reached among the pile of gifts and pulled out a box with a curled red bow spilling over the edges. “Funny enough, we were each other’s secret gifter. I know, I’m no fun for ruining the surprise. But this one’s special.” Her face grew sentimental. “Too special to guess about.”
Stygian’s eyes were wide as the parcel levitated to his lap. Gently, he pulled free the ribbon, peeling back the taped wrapping. Inside was a delicate journal. Its pages were yellowed, torn at the edges. Stygian rested a light hoof on the cover, sensing its age.
“It took a long time to find. And a lot of cross referencing for accuracy. Twilight was a huge help with the entire process.” Starlight chuckled knowingly. “But, this is it. I found her.”
Stygian looked between her and Sunburst, realization dawning. “Did you know about this?”
Sunburst shook his head, equally amazed. “Starlight, you really did it. You found Turning Page?”
She nodded, her smile reaching up into her shining eyes. “Open it. She’s the dedication.”
Stygian turned the cover, translating as he read, “My beloved, Turning Page. May these cantos sing for you where my voice cannot.” His hoof grasped his mouth.
“The author’s name is Lavender Belle,” Starlight explained in gentle tones. “We traced her family line. She would have been alive at the same time as Turning.”
“I’m also very sure they went to the same school together,” Trixie said with an insinuating giggle.
Starlight nodded rapidly. “And, it gets better.”
“It’s… already more than I could have hoped.” Stygian’s hoof reached below his glasses, wiping his eyes. Sunburst’s hoof was around his shoulder, equally tearful.
Down from her wall, Starlight levitated a small frame. Inside was a sheet of paper that was printed with the Old Ponish phrase, ‘Inne alt naertrin, del weorld ama prijen ouser luvji,’ recreated to match the original text by an expert calligrapher. It had been Sunburst’s wedding gift to her and Trixie.
“The hoofwriting is so similar to Lavender Belle’s,” she said. “I don’t know if it can be fully confirmed, but…”
Her voice faded as Stygian choked on a sob. Sunburst pulled him close, sniffling along with him. Their embrace was joined by Starlight, then Trixie, Maud and Mudbriar following shortly thereafter. At the center of their bowed heads, Stygian’s face rose with a beatific smile.
“You did it, Turning,” he cried. “You won.”
—
The hearth crackled, keeping Stygian and Sunburst warm.
Lavender Belle’s journal was held light in Stygian’s magic, each page turned with the utmost delicacy. Sunburst leaned into his shoulder as they rested together in their home, reading alongside him with matched fluency.
“She was so loved,” Stygian’s awed voice said.
Sunburst nodded. “More, I’m sure, than even these poems suggest.”
He kissed Stygian’s cheek, his lips coming away wet with tears. He brushed Stygian’s mane. “Are you okay?”
Stygian sniffed, closing the journal and setting it on the coffee table. “This has probably been my most tearful Hearth’s Warming yet.” He laughed, his eyes glittering in the firelight. The bags under them were faint. “But that’s to be expected, I suppose. I’ve never been this happy.”
He touched his nose to Sunburst. “Thank you,” he breathed. “I’ll never stop thanking you.”
Sunburst caressed his cheek, slowly shaking his head. “You should thank you.”
Still bleary, Stygian asked with a little smile, “What do you mean, love?”
“I don’t ever want you to forget the kindness you showed yourself,” Sunburst said. “All your choices that brought you here, I’m so glad you made them. Just knowing they would bring you to this moment, sitting on this couch by the fire — with me.”
Stygian’s smile warmed Sunburst more than the hearth ever could. “How about another good choice?” he said, easing Sunburst in for a slow kiss.
As they embraced in the wide warm dark of their bedroom – Stygian’s ear turned to Sunburst’s heartbeat – Sunburst’s drowsy, sleep-ferrying thoughts were on the wonderful mystery of the Old Ponish phrase hung high in his office, and the beauty of its connections across time.
Sunburst wondered often about the future ponies who would read Reward Prefers Risk long after it was out of print, only able to be discovered in secondhoof bookshops or dusty blind-buy barrels. He wondered how many hearts would go on to be touched by the words of long departed author, Stygian Flare.
But most important were the words that touched his own, arriving on the novel’s final page.
…When I was pulled free from the Shadow, I was saved in more ways than one. The torment of my greatest shame had been defeated. I had fallen into a world made anew. And I had landed at the hooves of a pony who would one day show me love I never expected — or believed I deserved.
Sunburst, you didn’t know it then, but in the future, you and I make the world a kinder place for one another. We meet in the present in a shop where one glimpses stories of the past. And you return to me an ancient dagger I once believed necessary for my story to end.
But it was not my end. Because I have chosen to live.
A long time ago, I believed my life was over. That to die would be the bravest thing I could do. I was so, so wrong.
Don’t fear the future. You’ll never know how it might reward you.
I am rewarded every day in new ways I never thought possible. I am rewarded by long nights of reading, by sunlight on my coat, by learning new recipes, and even by washing dishes, because my husband is beside me. I am rewarded by his smile, and the smiles of my friends, never to be shaken by adversity. There is gentle power in that. The world is not so large that it cannot be changed.
Sunburst, you insist you didn’t save me. That I overcame that battle myself — through living, and being. Let’s agree to a compromise, then. You must love and be loved to win the future.
And when I am no longer a part of that future, I will miss it and hope I am missed in turn. You were right, Sunburst. It is a sad thing to be gone from this world. I cherish that now. Because the love remains, even when you are not there to see it.
But my bones will rest easy one day. For in another age, they will rest beside yours.
—
—
—