“I don’t like this,” Shining Armor proclaimed grimly, his steely gaze focused on the examination room’s door.
“Yes, dear, you’ve mentioned that,” his wife replied, an understated smirk on her face. “Once every ten minutes, actually.” Cadence’s smirk grew as her husband turned to look at her, still grimacing. “Really, Shining, I’m not exaggerating. Every ten minutes, on the dot, you remind us that you don’t like this,” she noted. The stallion glanced at his parents, who nodded in agreement. “Now, much as I love it when you’re poised and ready to defend Equestria from danger, is glaring at the door going to help anything?”
“No,” he grudgingly admitted, lowering his gaze.
“And don’t you think my aunt would have told us if something was seriously wrong with Twilight when she came to fetch us?” Her husband looked at her in defeat, and nodded. “Then just relax, my love. If something changes, I’m sure we’ll be the first to know.” She glanced over to the corner of the room, where a young purple dragon was busily pouting. “Same for you, Spike. Just calm down, everything will be fine.
The dragon glowered at the winged-unicorn, arms crossed over his chest. “No offense, princess, but I’m not upset about that. I’m used to Twilight going off and leaving me behind. But if you’d had a fanged pegasus biting into your neck for the duration of an hour long flight from Ponyville to Canterlot, you might be a little cranky, too,” he deadpanned, before he returned to staring intently at the wall.
Cadence considered that for a moment, eventually nodding. She had to admit that didn’t sound especially pleasant, and there was no harm in letting the young dragon brood over it a bit. ‘It may even be helpful,’ she reasoned, ‘if it keeps him from worrying about Twilight. If only I had something so trivial to distract me…’ She frowned, almost imperceptibly, as she wondered what was actually happening. Despite her assurances, she wasn’t so sure Celestia would be entirely honest with them, if something had happened to Twilight or her friends. Though the citizenry might not, for some unfathomable reason, show much appreciation for the six mares who wielded the Elements of Harmony, there was little doubt that the sudden loss of that power could incite panic. So if something had happened to Cadence’s sister-in-law, or the unicorn’s friends, it was entirely possible that Celestia would try to contain that knowledge, at least until she was prepared for the fallout. Even if that meant lying to Twilight’s family.
“Cadence…are you okay?” Shining Armor asked as he gently nuzzled his wife, snapping her back to the present. “You went someplace else for a minute, there.” The princess smiled gently, nuzzling her prince back, about to reassure him that everything was just fine, to maintain the illusion just a little longer.
And then, they heard a scream.
Husband and wife pulled back and locked eyes for an instant, sharing a nod before Shining Armor turned to the rest of his family. “Stay here,” he barked, falling into his role as Captain of the Day Guard as his horn flared to life. With a blaze of light blue magic, Cadence threw the door open for him, and he leapt out, raising his shield around the door at the far end of the hall as his wife emerged behind him, her own magic ready. The scream had come from one of the other rooms branching off the hall, but neither pony had any idea which specific room it had come from.
Until, that is, there was another scream, and the second door on both sides of the hall flew open in a bright flash of pale cobalt, a white and purple blur dashing from the door on the right across the hall. A few seconds after, a very bemused looking Luna followed after, tutting thoughtfully, the door on the left closing as she passed. The pink princess and her gallant prince blinked in confusion, Cadence’s horn dimming as she released her magic, while Shining unthinkingly maintained the shield barring access from the main room. The silence dragged on while both ponies struggled to process what they’d just seen.
Finally, Cadence managed to find her voice. “Shining, honey…wasn’t that one of Twilight’s friends, the one who helped with the gowns for the wedding?” she asked slowly.
“Yes,” Shining confirmed, blinking as his brain still tried to play catch-up.
“And…did she have-” she began to ask.
“Yes,” her husband confirmed again, cutting her off. Cadence nodded for a second, still dazed by the implications.
“She…she didn’t last time, did she? I mean, I was still a bit out of it, I didn’t just…miss them, did I?
”
“Not that I’m aware of, no.”
The couple continued to sit for what felt like the longest thirty seconds of their lives, before they turned to each other.
“I don’t like this,” they proclaimed in grim unison, before walking back into the room to face two nervous unicorns and a suddenly frightened dragon.
****
Celestia had thought herself prepared to handle any kind of scream she’d hear that night. She had mentally prepared words to comfort families grieving lost daughters, lost sisters. She knew just how she would respond if her student cried out in agonized self-loathing. She had anticipated wails of existential horror, as ponies dealt with everything they had known and believed being ripped away from them, the world itself turned on its head. And she was prepared for the eventual screamed demands of the royal court, once she had explained all she was prepared to explain. Some of those preparations had been easy; some had felt like a dagger through her heart as she contemplated them. The scream she heard now, though, was possibly the one type of scream she had not accounted for, in all her planning. For, as she looked upon Rarity’s face, as the white mare screamed a third time, the significance of that piercing sound became clear to her.
Rarity, fashion designer, heroine of Equestria, Element of Generosity, and former unicorn, was screaming, or, more appropriately, squealing, in a bout of pure, unbridled joy, gleefully trotting in place as Luna gave her sister a bemused smirk, and Twilight Sparkle watched her friend in stunned silence.
“I’m an alicorn! I’m an alicorn!” she squealed, face positively aglow as she reveled in her new body, her longer legs flexing powerfully, her new wings fully unfurled. With glittering eyes, she watched Twilight shakily rise from her own bed, saw the other mare had her own set of lavender wings. “Oh, and so are you, Twilight. Well, that’s even better! Did you know this was going to happen, and just kept it so it would be a surprise when we found out?” she asked jubilantly. Still unable to find her voice, Twilight shook her head sadly. Wordlessly, Celestia draped a wing over her student, an invitation for the lavender alicorn to lean against the Solar Princess for support, an invitation that was wearily accepted, the mare slumping against her mentor’s body, absentmindedly noticing how much taller she’d become, slightly taller than Luna and Rarity.
Her friend was too excited to notice. “Ah, well, all the better, for everypony to share in the same surprise, yes?” she continued, giving her friend an appraising look. “Oh, darling, have you seen your mane since you awoke? I must say, it’s rather fetching…same style and colors, it seems, but it looks to be made…well, it looks like it’s somehow made of magic, rather than hair, dear. Tail, too. Very impressive, very flashy, very, well, glowy.” She paused, and quickly stepped over to the small mirror in the room, examining her own mane, gently touching a hoof to it, squealing again, though not quite as loudly, as she felt the amethyst locks of hair replaced by what she could only describe as strands of actual amethyst, still pliant and soft when she touched it, but resembling a solid mass of jewel when she left them alone. “Oh, this just looks magnificent, and I’m certain it will have a truly glorious gleam in the right light. Truly a mane fit for a princess.” She stopped, her eyes suddenly, impossibly, going wider as she spun to stare at Celestia and Luna. “Are we? Princesses, I mean? I don’t know, I never bothered to see if that was a rule, do alicorns automatically became royalty?” she inquired, voice quivering with hope.
Luna shook her head, still wearing a puckish smirk. “Nay, fair Rarity. Your new form does not carry with it a royal title,” the Princess of the Moon replied, barely able to contain her laughter at the new alicorn’s antics.
The designer’s face darkened for an instant, then her smile returned and she went back to experimenting with her new mane and tail, testing what would cause them to move and shift, and what would leave them as a solid mass. She sighed in relief when she found she could still flip her mane alluringly, and resumed talking. “A shame, that, but I shall endure it,” she sighed, her feigned sorrow betrayed by the intensity of her smile. “So, forgive me for asking, but obviously Twilight and I are awake…are the others up and about, yet?”
Twilight winced at the question, felt Celestia’s wing press more firmly against her. “Rarity…” she began, softly, while a nagging voice whisper, ‘Oh, look at how happy she is…what kind of friend would ruin that for her?’
“I mean, not to speak ill of them, but the thought of Dash, or Pinkie, unattended like this…well, the havoc those two could inflict with their pranks suddenly amplified by magic!” Rarity went on, Twilight’s voice too quiet for her to hear.
“Rarity…” the lavender mare tried again, slightly louder, tears finally beginning to well up in her eyes. ‘Are you really that anxious for her to find out? Are you really that anxious to confirm it for yourself?’ she heard her own voice whispering darkly, and thought she heard more voices in the background, too quiet to hear clearly.
“And Fluttershy, well, you know I love Fluttershy like a sister, but the poor dear does tend to be a bit high strung, and I’d hate for her to wake up to face this on her own,” she continued. “I think I’ll go wait by her bedside, if she hasn’t woken ye-”
“They’re dead, Rarity!” Twilight shouted, her pain finally breaking through. Her friend spun around again, eyes focused solely on the purple mare, the joy shining in her eyes replaced with abject horror. “I killed them, so we could be alicorns!” she continued as tears began to stream down her cheeks. She looked up at her mentor, one last flicker of hope shining as she asked “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Celestia said nothing at first, looking down at her weeping student, the Sun Goddess’s heart breaking at the sight. She knew what she needed to say. She knew that, by waiting, she let them glimmer of hope kindle more, that by waiting she only made the truth worse. Yet, looking down at Twilight Sparkle, at the mare she’d known and taught since the former unicorn was a filly, Celestia hesitated, balking at the prospect of taking away that last bit of hope. “I’m sorry, Twilight, but…yes, you’re right.” She forced herself to speak the words, to strip away that last remnant of hope. She felt her student slip from her side as Twilight’s hind legs gave out from under her, the light from her crackling tail dimming. Tears welling in her own eyes, Celestia lowered herself to the floor, and wrapped her forelegs around her pupil, her neck and shoulder quickly dampening with tears.
“I…I don’t understand,” Rarity said quietly, her voice faltering as she, too, felt an overwhelming need to sit. “What do you mean, they’re dead? What do our friends dying have to do with us becoming alicorns?” she asked, her eyes glazing over as she stared blankly ahead. Luna, all thought of playful mirth gone from her mind, stepped over to the younger white alicorn and gently placed a hoof on Rarity’s shoulder, unsure how else to comfort the distraught mare, or even if it were her place to try. She looked to her sister, hoping for guidance, but found Celestia too focused on her devastated student.
“Strength of earth, grace of wing, and magical horn; of these three aspects are alicorns born,” Twilight recited miserably, her voice muffled as she pressed her face against Celestia’s coat, terrible comprehension dawning on Rarity.
“Those beams of energy during the ritual…they joined you to Fluttershy and Pinkie, and joined Applejack and Dash to me,” Rarity breathed, beginning to understand.
Twilight nodded as best she could, and winced as Celestia pulled her closer, not from pain, but from shame, uncertain she deserved the comforting touch of her mentor. “I misunderstood the ritual, Rarity,” she explained sadly. “When it said it would concentrate the Elements within the vessels, I thought it was referring to the crystals as the Elements and then the six of us as the vessels, but now…I think when it was written, there wasn’t a distinction between the artifacts and the bearers.” She paused, sniffling as her tears threatened to once again render her incoherent. “I don’t know if it was supposed to…destroy the others, or if I made a mistake while I was hurrying, but…they’re gone. They’re gone, and it’s my fault…” She arched her head back, looking up at her mentor through tear-blurred eyes. “Can I…can I say goodbye to my family, before…” her voice broke, and she resumed sobbing.
“No, Twilight, you can’t say goodbye to your family. Not for a long, long time, yet,” Celestia answered, her own tears winding down her cheek, the liquid hissing as it fell and struck Twilight’s new mane. The purple mare sobbed louder, and Celestia explained, “You can't say goodbye, because you’re not going anywhere, Twilight. Not the moon, not the sun, not the stars or wherever else you think I might send you.” The princess looked down on her student gently as the purple mare continued to weep. “This night, four fine mares were taken from this world, and four families will begin to grieve,” she noted, her voice both calm and calming. “Forcing a fifth family to grieve along with them wouldn’t help anypony, my student.”
The lavender alicorn sniffled miserably at the princess’ pronouncement. “But...but I killed them, Princess…” she whimpered between sobs. “I can’t just…get away with that, because of my connections.”
Celestia nuzzled her student again, the soft fur of her muzzle wicking away some of her student’s unshed tears. “And if I thought you had intended for them to die, Twilight, you would never have awoken,” the Sun Goddess said, her voice still gentle, her words still meant to soothe despite the dark promise. “But I know you, Twilight, better than I know almost any other living pony, which means I can be sure of two very important things. Above all else, I know, with absolute certainty, that you would never knowingly harm another pony for you own benefit. The concept is so foreign to your nature that, if you had intended to, the ritual could not have succeeded, for the Element of Magic would have rejected you. And second,” she continued, her legs still wrapped comfortingly around the distressed alicorn, “I know that, for all your strengths and skills, my student, you aren’t a good enough actress to fake this kind of pain.”
“I hope everypony can be as understanding as you, Princess,” came Twilight’s pained reply, already picturing ponies calling for her to be punished, intermingled with images of ponies who would inevitably react poorly to the sudden appearance of two new goddesses, angry ponies with torches and pitchforks chasing after the two of them, demanding the blood of the false goddesses. Those images contrasted with visions of those who might react too positively to the sudden appearance of two new goddesses, fringe groups she had read about who opposed the current government. Visions of Canterlot in ruins, banners with her cutie-mark and Rarity’s emblazoned upon them flying amidst the ruins, Celestia laid at Twilight’s hooves, beaten and chained, flew through her mind, and she shivered, shaking her head to dispel them. ‘Oh, why’d you have to do that? I was ever so enjoying that idea,’ she crooned to herself, and again she heard a strange, different sound seeming to echo within her mind.
“Twilight Sparkle, I know that look. I said no overreacting, remember? That includes picturing the violent overthrow of the government by a lunatic fringe,” Celestia playfully admonished her student, trying in vain to coax out a smile. “I wouldn’t worry too much about what other ponies think of tonight’s events, though. You see, there’s a way to help ensure ponies react the way you wish them to, something my sister and I have become fairly skilled at over our lives. A skill you and Rarity will, no doubt, also become proficient in.” The Solar Princess paused, exchanging an impish look with her sister. “We’re going to construct an artificial yet completely plausible scenario which confirms the sequence of events we wish to advance, backed by a sufficient amount of carefully selected evidence such that those who hear it will consider the presented narrative briefly, find that it conforms to their expected standards of behavior for those involved, and then move on, while also ensuring that supporting evidence exists, beyond barriers of sufficient difficult to prove challenging enough to add legitimacy to said evidence, yet not so daunting as to be insurmountable, the account further aided by rumors spread by agents not associated with the Royal House through any traceable means which have cultivated a reputation as purveyors of falsehoods and ‘crackpot’ theories, and continue this strategy until such time as those who could contradict our version of events are no longer available for comment by any means currently available to ponykind,” Celestia explained, all in a single breath. Her student stopped her crying, as her formidable mind devoted itself to parsing just what her teacher thought she had just explained.
The Lunar Princess watched while the first pony to befriend her following her return applied her not inconsiderable intellect to her sister’s convoluted explanation, grinning to herself. Much as she enjoyed her sister’s obfuscating words, they unfortunately lacked the time it would likely take Twilight to decode it. “What my sister is trying to say, Twilight Sparkle, is that we are going to lie, and continue lying until everypony who can contradict the lie is long dead,” Luna translated.
“What?!” Two voices called out in unison, and the Princesses chuckled to themselves.
****
The main room of the infirmary wing, transformed by need into an impromptu waiting room, was crowded. It was, in fact, beyond crowded. It had been designed and furnished to hold twenty-four ponies comfortably, while they waited their turn to have whatever minor ailment had brought them tended to. It could, in a pinch, hold thirty-six ponies, and those ponies would still not be terribly uncomfortable, especially if some of those ponies didn’t mind standing, or at least sitting on bare floor. It was generally considered that fifty was the upper limit of the rooms capacity, and protocol demanded that, in the event that more than fifty ponies all sustained minor injuries at once, a strict triage be enforced, with the least injured ponies either sent to one of the proper hospitals or, if their complaint was truly minor, told to ‘suck it up and walk it off.’ That particular protocol was also useful as a warning to new functionaries at the palace as to why it was always important to check the royal mood before asking a princess to settle a minor dispute. It wasn’t the only such example, but most of the other examples tended to be rather more…colorful, though not without occasional merit - nopony, for instance, ever argued about who should receive the last slice of cheesecake at a royal banquet, at the least not after their first attempt.
The sixty-three ponies currently occupying the room were, understandably, uncomfortable. The twenty ponies who had been escorted, with varying degrees of grace, by the Night Guard were miserable enough to begin with, knowing only that something had happened to a member of their family, or at least a mare so close as to be considered family. The Ponyville natives had been there to see the Princesses escort their niece, her husband, and her in-laws through the double doors, and no word had come since. Princess Luna had emerged, briefly, to retrieve Spike, and since then, no information had come from within. By the time the pegasi from Cloudsdale had arrived, along with a family of dour rock-farmers, those already present had begun to fear the worst. The arrival of forty-three members of the Day Guard had done little to dispel those fears, and much to increase the overall discomfort, the ventilation system proving inadequate to keep the room comfortable and the air fresh with that many ponies present.
But nopony tried to leave. Nopony even seemed inclined to try to move, the adults watching the doors through the ranks of golden armor, while two tired foals slept peacefully between their parents, and two anxious fillies lay in a corner, while the minutes turned to hours. Twice, the pony who seemed to be in charge of the guards, a unicorn mare of average size and pale blue coat, stepped through the double doors, and the ponies caught a glimpse of a flowing starscape, heard a muffled words. But still, nothing happened, and the silence returned.
The first scream was so sudden that, for a moment, nopony moved, even the guards unsure what to do, their orders having been simply to ensure that the infirmary wing was secure, and to prevent anypony from entering the smaller hallway. By the time the second scream rang out from the hallway, a magenta barrier had sprung to life around the door, blocking access as the blue unicorn tried to find out what was happening. The mare frowned at the glowing barrier but relented, fully aware that she lacked the ability the bypass the Captain’s shield. With a whispered command for those closest to the door to keep watch on it, and inform her when the barrier dissipated, the guardsponies resumed their silent vigil.
The others who sat, waiting for news, did not all return to silence. Crying could be heard as the lanky yellow stallion and stocky blue mare tried to rock their twin foals back to sleep, while the nervous pegasus couple who had been sitting next to them tried to help by singing a lullaby, their two grown children accompanying despite their fears. The huge red stallion gave his granny a worried look, only to see the normally stoic old mare had a haunted look on her face. The rock farmers continued to quietly watch the door, but one could see that their muscles were tense where before they had been relaxed, and the yellow-brown stallion had laid a hoof upon his wife’s, his two adult daughters shifting towards their parents. The remaining, older pegasus couple had wrapped their wings around each other, terrified that the day they’d long dreaded had finally come to pass. And two middle-aged unicorns, clad in comfortable, if garish, clothes, smiled happily as they held each other.
“Ah don’t understand,” Apple Bloom whispered, confused by her friend’s sudden good humor. “We hear somepony scream, and you and your parents start smilin’? You wanna explain what ah’m missin’, Sweetie Belle?”
The pale unicorn filly looked at her yellow friend, a huge grin fixed on her young face. “That wasn't just somepony screaming,” Sweetie Belle whispered back, happily. “That was Rarity screaming!”
“Okay…gonna be honest, that seems like it’d be even less of a reason to smile. Ah mean, if I heard Applejack screamin’, I know I wouldn’t be happy about it.” The earth pony shuddered at the thought. She didn’t like hospitals under the best circumstances, and the image of her big sister screaming in one brought up bad memories.
“You don’t understand, Rarity doesn’t just scream like normal ponies do; my mom and dad say she has a whole language of screams!” Sweetie replied, her voice squeaking in excitement despite her quiet tones. “Like, how she screams when I accidentally set something on fire is different from how she screams when I accidentally splash her with water trying to put out whatever I set on fire.” The filly paused a moment, certain that there was something troubling about what she’d just said, but unable to decide what it was. “Anyway,” she continued, “that scream we just heard was her ‘something really awesomely amazing happened’ scream, like when a magazine says something really nice about her dresses, or…” She paused, her pale coat reddening at the cheeks. “My parents say she screamed like that after I was born, the first time I smiled at her.” Sweetie couldn’t actually remember it, but her father had taken a picture of it, a copy of which sat on the nightstand besides her bed at home. “So, see, if Rarity’s screaming that scream…it means something good must have happened, and everything is going to be fine.”
Apple Bloom frowned, thinking it over for a second, then nodded brightly. “Well, ah suppose that makes sense. So ya figure everythin’s gonna be alright, and the Princesses had us all brought here just in case?” The exuberant unicorn nodded, her purple and pink mane bouncing along, mirroring her excitement. “Well, alright! Nothing to do now but wait for everypony to come on out and tell us what happened.” And the two fillies returned to watching the shielded door, smiles wide on their young faces.
****
After Twilight’s shouted revelation, Rarity’s mind had been sent reeling. Admittedly, it was all quite a lot to take in. Hours ago, she had been a mere unicorn, a designer with aspirations of fame and eventual nobility, as well as one facet of an ancient magical weapon alongside her five dearest friends. Now, she possessed the power of a physical goddess and, while she may not be a princess by title, there were few ponies able to truthfully claim a higher social standing than a divine being. Initially, she had wondered if alicorns were allowed to choose what they were the goddess of; she had begun to mentally style herself as the Goddess of Fashion, the font from which all trends would flow, worshiped in the truest sense by the greatest fashion designers in the world. She had allowed herself a private cackle at the thought, unbecoming as such behavior normally was.
Until Twilight had told her the price the pair had had to pay, and the fantasy crumbled around her. Her friends were dead. Fluttershy was dead. She hated herself for making the distinction now, but it had never been a particular secret that she was closer to the pale yellow pegasus than the others. They simply had more in common with each other than the others, and had spent significant amounts of time in each other’s company, their weekly spa treatments predating Twilight’s arrival in Ponyville by years, while Fluttershy secretly had a keen fashion sense, and Rarity had admired the pegasus’ natural grace and poise, where she herself had to constantly work to maintain it.
There had, of course, been rumors, hushed talk that the two were something more than ‘friends,’ rumors which the designer quashed whenever they began to circulate, often by remarking in the rumormonger’s presence just how easy it was for a talented unicorn to paralyze a pony with a sewing needle, and how terribly difficult it could be to prove. For her own part, Rarity didn’t particularly mind, as the stories were never terribly sordid, and such a relationship wouldn’t have been damaging to her own reputation. And, alone and behind closed doors, she would admit to herself that she didn’t strictly mind the possibility; while she generally preferred stallions, she liked to think of herself as open-minded, and the kind pegasus had a certain allure. Had Fluttershy ever made such an advance, the designer truly had no idea how she would have responded. As it had stood, though, she would abide no threat to the mare’s almost foal-like innocence. On more than one occasion, the pegasus had blushed fiercely simply seeing a couple exchange a chaste kiss. Had Rarity not known for a fact that her friend had seen some of her animal companions breeding, she might have believed Fluttershy completely ignorant of such matters.
Regardless, the shy mare had certainly not shown any interest in interponial relationships at that level, and Rarity had never asked the other mare’s thoughts on such things, more than content to love Fluttershy like a sister, one she could speak candidly around, and occasionally accept tea from without worrying about the liquid spontaneously and mysteriously igniting.
And now she was gone, and Rarity wasn’t sure what to feel. She was, granted, very clear that she should feel a sense of soul-crushing grief, and she felt she was feeling that quite successfully. But beyond that, she had no idea. Should she wax poetic, bemoaning the glorious angel taken from an imperfect, undeserving world? But that felt so melodramatic, words one would hear in a play, not real life. She considered weeping, only to find that she already was, and it didn’t seem to be much comfort to her. Part of her, a very dark, terrible part of her soul, the part that held all of the disappointment, fury and hatred she repressed, was recalling the discussion the six had shared in the Everfree, remembering how magic was made stronger by strong emotions. That part wanted to use that knowledge to test an alicorn’s supposed invulnerability; Twilight Sparkle enjoyed experiments, surely she wouldn’t mind being the subject of one? But when that dark thought arose, something seared through Rarity’s horn and skull like lightning until the urge passed, leaving her to see the lavender alicorn weeping like a foal, cradled in Celestia’s legs. Any physical pain Rarity inflicted would pale before Twilight’s own guilt, and hurting Twilight wouldn’t undo what had been done.
So Rarity sat, lost in her own thoughts, mindful of the discussion between Twilight and Celestia without truly hearing what was being said. Until Luna spoke. “What my sister is trying to say, Twilight Sparkle, is that we are going to lie, and continue lying until everypony who can contradict the lie is long dead.”
The pain in her horn was intense, akin to what she imagined it would feel like to have it dipped in pitch and set alight. The pain in the rest of her body was less intense, but still sharp enough that she instinctively leapt to her hooves, unintentionally staggering the Princess of the Night as she dislodged Luna’s hoof from her shoulder as she indignantly shouted, “What?” just as Twilight asked the same question.
Luna looked at her eyebrow, looking terribly pleased with herself as the princesses nodded at each other. “Welcome back, Rarity,” she said, apparently self-satisfied. “And what I said,” she began, eyes twinkling mischievously, “is that the four of us are going to lie.” She held that final word, almost as if she were savoring it, and Rarity flinched away from her. Celestia, still holding Twilight protectively, shook her head at her sister’s antics, though she noted the strength of the designer’s reaction.
“Both of you relax. It isn’t…quite as crude as Luna makes it sound,” the Solar Goddess clarified. “What we’re going is tell the truth, just…not all of it, all at once, through the same sources.” She paused, contemplating something. “And I suppose we’ll have to tell some lies, to make everything stick together.” She looked between the two new alicorns, both wearing matching expressions of shock. “Oh, really, stop overreacting. This will work.” She began to grin, then added, “Have a little faith in me.”
“But…but…Princess, we can’t just lie to everypony!” Twilight exclaimed, her guilt set aside as she dealt with the larger moral implications of misleading an entire nation, possibly the entire world depending on how far the false information spread. Off to the side, Rarity found herself nodding, in spite of the potential for some fascinating court intrigue she could involve herself with. Celestia simply looked down at her student, still grinning.
“Twilight…a quick quiz for you. Other than the Nightmare Moon incident and Luna’s banishment, which I assure you truly did occur one thousand years before she was freed…how many major historical events can you think of that occurred either ‘a thousand years ago’ or simply ‘more than a thousand years ago,’ just off the top of your head?” she asked, her smile still fixed on her face. “And, while you’re at it, try to think of things that ponies insist happened ‘a thousand years ago,’ yet somehow involved Luna, even though she would have been on the moon at that point.” As her student’s eyes grew wider, so did Celestia’s grin. “And, for bonus points, explain how Cadence, Blueblood, and any number of other ponies who are long gone at this point could be my nieces or nephews, if Luna and I have never had foals of our own, and we didn’t have another sibling who had procreated.”
Twilight stared into space as realization dawned on her, blood draining from her face as it slowly contorted in horror. “How…how much of our recorded history is an amalgamation of lies and deceit, princess?” the purple alicorn whispered, her pupils shrunk to pin-pricks.
Celestia squeezed her student. “Outright lies, Twilight? Very little of it,” she assured her student. “And anything within the last, oh, five centuries or so is accurate, at least so far as I know. Anything which is explicitly stated to have occurred a set time after Nightmare Moon is…fairly accurate. For the most part.” She nuzzled the very shocked Twilight Sparkle gently. “As for the rest of it all…the dates are left vague, but the only major event I remember altering is the Hearth’s Warming legend. The ponies were real, as were most of the details…except they didn’t found Equestria. Those six missed that by…well, let’s just say ‘a while,’ and leave it at that.”
“Princess…is there a book, or scroll, or tablet, or anything someplace where somepony recorded what actually happened, in proper sequence?” Twilight asked, shakily, her head resting on her teacher’s shoulder.
“Yes, Twilight. And you can read it as much as you’d like, I promise. But we have more pressing matters at the moment. We still have your friends to deal with, remember?”
She didn’t begin to cry again. She wanted to, but it was as if her tears denied themselves to her. “I…I’m sorry. I…that was terrible of me. My friends are gone, and I let myself be distracted by…well, by minutiae, comparatively.” She inwardly shouted at herself, demanding that she cry, demanding the pain return, demanding that she let herself be punished for what she’d done. She called out to herself in grief and guilt, the dark, sadistic corner of her mind; she taken such pleasure in tormenting herself before, why was she silent now? But the voice was silent; the only answer a sound reminiscent of wind-chimes, light and melodic. Off to her side, she could hear Rarity crying softly, grieving their shared loss, but Twilight found herself unable to join her.
“A point of correction, dear Twilight; the other four Bearers of Harmony are dead, not gone,” Luna interjected, casually. “Or, I suppose the less callous phrasing would be to say that they are merely dead, and not gone.” The dark alicorn sighed to herself, and shook her head, as if in answer to some unasked question.
“Princess, forgive me my candor, but if you’re about to tell us how our friends ‘live on inside of us,’ or anything along those lines, I’d really rather you skip it,” Rarity grumbled acerbically, tears still sliding down her face, having decided for herself that, between the night’s events and the lingering, throbbing pain in her horn, she was allowed to be slightly less deferent to royalty than normal etiquette required. “While I appreciate the sentiment in theory, I can say with certainty that I’m in no mood for such trite comfort, and I rather suspect Twilight will agree with me.”
The Princess of the Night nodded sagely, no trace of anger marring her face. “Forgive me, fair Rarity, but immortal beings quickly learn to take great solace in such ‘trite comfort,’ as you describe it. It helps ease the pain that comes with having more friends lost to memory than living ones,” Luna offered with a hint of melancholy, sharing a meaningful look with her sister, knowing full well how much more that fact weighed on the Sun Goddess. “However, I assure you that, in this particular case, I do not offer you simple platitudes.”
“I think, sister, that it may be easier to simply show them,” Celestia suggested gently, sorry to interfere with Luna’s fun, even given the circumstances. “This will become easier with time, I promise,” she continued, now addressing her student and Rarity, “but right now, I want you both to focus on your friends, on the memories of your times together. Good memories, bad memories, happy, or sad. Just focus on them.” She paused, feeling the alicorn in her legs begin to quiver again. “Once you’re focusing on them…touch your magic, and focus it inwards, to the memories.”
Rarity frowned, at her limit for cryptic instructions and roundabout clues, but deferred to the Solar Goddess, closing her eyes and focusing her thoughts on her four lost friends. She recalled the first time Rainbow Dash had crashed through an open window into her boutique, the brash pegasus unapologetic as hours of work were undone in seconds. She recalled the ill-conceived sleepover with Twilight and Applejack, the understanding she had come to with the farmer afterwards. She recalled Pinkie’s arrival in Ponyville, the ensuing week-long period of madness and parties as the pink mare made herself known throughout the town. And she recalled Fluttershy. Simply…Fluttershy, the tears once more beginning to well up in the white mare’s eyes. Taking a shaky breath, she drew upon her magic, shuddering at the strength, and directed it towards her memories. She heard Twilight gasp, and then…
****
She was surrounded by White.
She was also, apparently, a unicorn again, judging by her inability to feel any wings growing from her back. Her right eye twitched, and she slowly, gracefully sat down upon the…whatever-it-was she was sitting upon, mouth curling into a manic grin. “Alright, Rarity, stay calm,” she muttered to herself, her eye continuing to twitch. “Celestia told you just what to do, presumably, she knew that this was going to happen,” she continued, unconsciously tapping at the not-ground with her hoof. “I’ll just wait here, patiently, like a proper lady should,” she assured herself, forcing herself to resist the urge to begin wailing dramatically, despite the apparent appropriateness of that action, given her current situation. “But I swear by…I swear by myself, come to think of it,” she began slowly, considering the potential implications of being able to swear oaths to oneself, “that if somepony doesn’t explain what in Equestria is going on in the next five minutes, I’m…I’m…” She paused, considering just what she would do. Most of her ideas simply involved forcing ponies to wear unfashionable clothes; a form of torture, she supposed, but unlikely to be of much use against most ponies.
“Going to find a bevy of virgin mares, lure them to your home, slit their throats, drain their corpses into an ornate golden tub, and bathe in their blood to maintain your own beauty?” a voice with a slight Trottingham accent suggested from behind the designer.
“What?!” Rarity rose, shocked at the implications. “First off, what kind of monster do you take me for? Second, do you have any idea, whatsoever, how hard it would be to get that much blood out of my coat? Third, how would that possibly help me get any answers?” she demanded, spinning around to find herself nearly muzzle to muzzle with a dark plum pegasus, who was grinning wildly.
“Well, good to see you have your priorities in order,” the other mare chuckled liltingly. “Anyway, short explanation, I’m Dream Keeper, and I’m here to take you to those answers you were demanding. Sorry, no more details right now. Yeah, you’ve had a weird night, I realize that, but believe me when I tell you that it doesn’t have anything on what I’ve had to deal with.” The pegasus shook her head in disbelief as she trotted away. “It was bad enough when she was making them out of the White, but when she started changing the furniture, I just…I don’t even know,” she muttered in disbelief. Rarity, long past the point of questioning the madness her life had become, simply followed the odd mare, hopefully to answers. Or something heavy and blunt she could strike her head against until she stopped caring about answers.
She was beginning to suspect that the blunt object may, in fact, be less damaging to her mental health than the answers.
****
She was surrounded by White.
“Huh…an undifferentiated essence field,” Twilight observed, frowning slightly. She was dimly aware that her wings were gone, and that her body had returned to its normal proportions, but she had more pressing concerns. “Okay, assuming the prevalent theories are correct, this means one of two things. Option one, I’ve shed my mortal form, either temporarily or permanently, ascending to a state of pure energy, and the building blocks of creation are laid before me to play with as I will.” She paused, focusing her thoughts on the space directly in front of her. Disappointingly, a tray of brownies didn’t spring into being. “Alright, can’t rule that out entirely, but if my will can’t even conjure a simple dessert, the second option seems more likely,” she reasoned, and lay down against the solidified nothingness that was supporting her. “So…I guess alicorns can die, after all.”
“Not that we’ve been able to determine, my most faithful student,” a familiar voice said from behind the purple mare. “Though as far as your other conclusion, Twilight, you’re not entirely wrong. This…place, whatever you care to call it, is between Equestria and…whatever comes after,” Celestia continued, a slight sorrow tainting those final words. Twilight leapt to her hooves and spun around to face her mentor…and froze. The princess looked toward her sister, standing silently next to her, and the siblings shared a smile. “You were right, Luna; the look on her face right now is priceless.”
The off-white pegasus looked back into the purple unicorn’s eyes, her pink mane hanging casually to the side as she smiled that familiar, gentle smile, looking so alien on the less sharply defined face it now occupied. Next to her, the shorter, blue-violet unicorn chuckled to herself, her periwinkle mane styled similarly to the pegasus’, slightly shorter and more carefully arranged to keep it clear of her face. “I told you that’s how she’d react, when she saw you like that, Tia,” Luna pointed out. Her was voice higher, more youthful, yet still unmistakably the voice of the Princess of the Night.
Twilight stared at the two mares, her mouth moving on its own, opening and closing as she questions vied for her attention, as she struggled to answer those questions on her own with the available evidence as a not insignificant portion of her conscious mind insisted that no, enough was enough, it was simply time to get some sleep and sort everything out in the morning. The sisters both watched her, chuckling sympathetically. After a moment, Celestia walked over to her student, and turned to face the same direction, draping a wing over the significantly younger mare. “Twilight, I know this is all a bit much to take in, and I wish I could let you have all the time you need to process…well, everything,” she said, watching for her student’s reaction. The lavender mare continued to stare straight ahead, but her mouth had stopped moving, so the princess continued, “Unfortunately, while we may have all the time in the world, in a grand, literal sense, we’re also operating under some immediate limits, and we really need to get moving. So, I make you a promise; come with Luna and me right now, and try to keep yourself together a little while longer, and once the immediate issues are handled, we’ll answer any questions you have, that we have the answer to. Does that sound good?” Celestia suggested soothingly. The dazed student gave a shallow nod, and walked alongside her teacher, the white wing draped over her back. Luna fell into step besides the pair, and the trio walked off into the Whiteness, the confused mare flanked by the sisters.
****
There was no gentle transition, no subtle change from barren expanse to sparse fields, no visible barrier demarcating one location from another. The three mares had simply stopped being in the fields of White, and started being…someplace else.
That was not what Twilight Sparkle was focused on.
Immediately to their left, also having appeared seemingly from nowhere, Rarity stood, frozen in place, a deep plum pegasus standing beside her and directing a knowing smile at the two princesses. The designer had, much like Twilight herself, returned to her original form, her mane once more hair, her back free of wings.
That was not what Twilight Sparkle was focused on.
Stretching out to the left and right, as well as behind them, were row upon row of tree, each different from its neighbor. There were carefully fruit trees of every variety, evergreens soaring above their neighbors and tiny, carefully tended bonsai trees. Occasionally, those trees were not as distinct as they should have been. Admittedly, the lavender mare had never focused too heavily on botany, but she was reasonably certain organs shouldn’t be growing on a fir tree, nor should an oak tree have branches weighed down by coconuts, and she was reasonably sure tomatoes and pineapples had no business growing on any sort of tree. Nor, for that matter, did books, bits, bowling balls, candles, or spheres of self-contained fire.
That was not what Twilight Sparkle was focused on.
In front of them, there was a gorge, easily five hundred feet wide. The depth was impossible to determine, since it was filled nearly to the point of overflowing with what Twilight recognized as liquid sunlight; the substance was so powerful that Equestrian law made the attempt to create it an act of treason, for fear of what it could do in the wrong hooves, and so rare that the same law mandated any naturally occurring samples were the exclusive property of the Crown, for fear that any attempt to sell it could destabilize the entire economy. The amount that had been found, at least publicly, filled the thimble Celestia insisted on keeping it in one-fourth full; the amount that lay in the moat represented enough raw power to fuel a spell which could birth a new universe.
That was not what Twilight Sparkle was focused on.
Twilight Sparkle and Rarity stood near the edge of the great chasm, gazing across at the structure on the other side of the moat. The castle was vaguely reminiscent of Canterlot Castle, at least in its general design; soaring towers, grand balconies, smaller towers jutting out above empty space. The walls glittered and shined, the walls made of platinum, the tower roofs a swirl of gold and silver, the windows diamond in place of glass. It wasn’t a replica of the familiar castle, but seemed more that the structure they knew was a pale imitation of the grand palace before them, an impression only strengthened by the sheer size of the place. Canterlot Castle was meant to be grand, to inspire awe in those who visited it, and fear in those who would visit ill-intent upon it. The structure across the moat did not dwarf Canterlot Castle with its scale. The structure across the moat dwarfed the mountain Canterlot had been built upon with its scale, the shimmering walls extending so high that they vanished amongst the clouds. It was the stuff of legends, the kind of thing ponies might sacrifice their very life simply to gaze upon.
It was not what the two unicorns, turned alicorns, apparently turned unicorns again, were focused on.
A drawbridge of solid diamond had been lowered across the moat. Walking towards the group were seven mares. Three of them, unknown to either Twilight or Rarity, looked slightly amused, though the black earth pony might have been better described as bemused. The orange earth pony looked upset. The cerulean pegasus’ expression was a mixture of confusion and excitement. The pink earth pony was bouncing happily, clearly ecstatic. The pale yellow pegasus wore a content smile, at least on the half of her face not hidden by her pink mane.
“Twilight Sparkle, Rarity…welcome to the Citadel of Harmony,” Celestia announced, as the two she’d named began to gallop across the bridge, to their waiting friends.