“Only guard yourself and guard your soul carefully, lest you forget the things your eyes saw, and lest these things depart your heart all the days of your life. And you shall make them known to your children, and to your children's children.”

The speaker in our booth chimed.“Your attention, please,” the monotonous, female voice called. “Arriving at Manehattan Grand Terminal in five minutes. Please prepare to disembark. Your attention, please. Arriving at Manehattan Grand Terminal in five minutes. Please prepare to disembark.”

I looked up and outside the window, giving Hummingbird a gentle nudge. The green pegasus mare, now wrapped in a thick winter coat, opened her eyes with a soft groan. “Hey, take a look,” I whispered, nodding to the window. Outside, the gently rolling hills of the countryside were slowly panning away to reveal the Manehattan cityscape. Farms and fields traded for dainty suburban homes and businesses. High-rise apartments and skyscrapers towered in the distance. Snow-covered fields seamlessly merged into the urban tapestry. Now that I'd seen Canterlot, I did notice the slight haze that seemed to hang in the air, but it did nothing to detract from the sheer scale of the city. Looking at the buildings crawl into view and the countryside slip away, some people would've felt a sense of loss. Me? I was coming home.

As everyone on board slowly shuffled off of the train car, I squinted and craned my neck as I tried to peer over the crowd of new arrivals, awaiting family and friends, guides, and terminal personnel. It might have been my trusty fedora, but I spotted a familiar set of stripes soon after we made it onto the platform. Leaving Hummingbird behind, I weaved through the group around me.

And there he was. We were about the same size now, if only because of my slight lankiness. Sincere, brown eyes; that friendly, smug smile; the strapping leather jacket, the Mohawk cut short so he could slip a bike helmet on... it was him. Best friend I could ever ask for. I rushed over and hugged him up tight, and we both burst out laughing in joy as we hugged one another tight.

“So, this Hummingbird?” he asked, nodding toward my marefriend as she shimmied past the crowd to get to us.

“Mm-hm,” she answered with a nod, looking to me. Then, in a similar tone, “This Zoleks?”

“Mmmmmm-hm,” he answered with a nod of his own. Yeah, we were all going to get together quite nicely. “Come on, let's start heading back. Namira's getting dinner ready for us- don't wanna be late!”

“You kidding me?” He shot a look at me, but his smile said it was all in good humor. “You come back home and tell me it ain't an occasion for us to have a meal together? Is that modesty I hear? Gooooood Lorn, who are you and what've you done with Frost?” I chuckled huskily and gave him a playful sock to the shoulder. “Seriously, though, let's get going. We already have it all planned out and have the guest bedroom prepped for you two. Couldn't bring the bike since there's three of us, but hey, look on the bright side. Walking's best way to see Manehattan, am I right?”

“Looks like I have to take your guys' word for it,” Hummingbird huffed with a grin.

“Take our word for it?” Zoleks regarded her with a grimace. “What, you telling me you ain't ever been to Manehattan before?”

He smirked. “I don't know about you, but I think this calls for a proper welcome.”

“What do you mean by proper welc- aaah!” Hummingbird cried out as we pulled her out past the front entrance, gracing her with the full splendor of the downtown district. Ponies, zebras, griffins, donkeys, mules, buffalo- all milled about the crowded pavement lined with those classy iron lampposts and the occasional bench. Buildings of red-rust-n'-brown brick surrounded us with flashy, over-the-top signs advertising- no, broadcasting their wares to all who could see. The recent snowfall added a lovely layer of white to it all.

Folks, remember when I told you about the three things I miss most about Manehattan? Something about the songs, something about Manehattaners knowing how to carry a tune? I don't think I touched on that too much. Well, just like with Hummingbird, let's fix that right up. Back then, everyone had this habit of spontaneously bursting into song. Don’t ask how- it just happened, and there was no stopping it when it did, folks.

So without further ado, it’s memento time! Hit it, Roanoke! My thoughts to theirs! Let's breathe some light and life into Junction R-7!

<===ooO Ooo===>

The younger Frost pointed to a group of street musicians, flashing a smirk that they mirrored on their own faces. A unicorn laid on a jumpy piano tune and a mule molly tapped away at the drums as the buffalo went wild with the trumpet. A good number of the newcomers from Manehattan Grand Terminal looked about in confusion as Frost and Zoleks went back-to-back before singing loud and clear in a fast-paced, swinging tune to a very bewildered Hummingbird, starting with Frost:

Together, splitting up and circling around Hummingbird. The crowd around them began to tap their hooves and feet to the tune. “There's clubs that'll have you grinning ear to ear- yeah!”

Frost leaned in close to her with a sly grin, singing in a seductive tone, “C'mon, baby-girl, lemme take it from here...”

Frost and Zoleks met in front of her and danced together, mirroring one another's movements as they sang.

“Manehattan!
Where the lights and the smiles are bright!
Manehattan!
Where the partying goes on all night!
Manehattan!
Where the little can make it big!
Manehattan!
We're the City of Lights and Legends!” They went back-to-back. “Ya dig?”

There was a small instrumental break as the crowd reassembled, breaking out of their daily routine to join in on the song and dance. A keyboard trill from the pinstriped unicorn started them off. Now the rest of the Manehattaners joined in, displaying the city around them.

“Look at all the glamor, look at all that glitz!
Look at all the guys n' gals putting on the ritz- oh!
Different faces n' places n' races too- oh!
I ain't seen grander city- how 'bout you?”

And now the crowd broke into two aisles around Hummingbird and the rest of the new arrivals, mirroring one another as they cantered about as only Manehattaners could. People threw out their shutters and opened their windows, swinging their hats and joining into the extravagance.

“Manehattan!
Where the light and the smiles are bright!
Manehattan!
Where the partying goes on all night!
Maanehattan!
Where the little can make it big!
Maanehattan!
We're the City of Lights and Legends!” The twin aisles stamped their hooves and feet as one and pointed at the newcomers. “Ya dig?”

There was another instrumental break- this time with a squealing trumpet solo from the buffalo, who squinted his eyes as he played with passion. In the meantime, the aisles intermingled and danced with one another. Frost weaved around Hummingbird before snatching her along. The green pegasus mare let out a surprised shout before cantering about with him with raucous energy. Then, as one:

“Lose it to the music n' have some fun!
Sparkle-twinkle, razzle-dazzle, bright as the sun- hey!
We're a city of diff'rent shapes n' sizes, big n' small- hey!
You wanna be a legend, then stand up tall!

“Manehattan! (Where?)
Where the lights and smiles are bright!
Maanehattan! (Huh?)
Where the partying goes on all night!
Maaanehattan! (Wuzzat?)
Where the little can make it big!
Maaaaaanehaaaaaaattan!
City... of Lights! And! Legeeeeeeeends!”

Frost spun Hummingbird one last time as the music cut out, flashing a smug smile. “Ya dig?”

<===ooO Ooo===>

Hummingbird was positively, well, humming the city's tune all the way to Zoleks' place. It was actually a two-story business with the top floor being his humble abode and the bottom being his business. People of all kinds were working on the motorcycles in the shop’s garage- or, rather, they had been. They were still on their dinner break it seemed.

Zoleks nodded. “Yup. Manehattan's trying to curb its urban sprawl, you know? That means building denser and building higher.” He nodded to his employees. “Take another thirty off. Lemme know if anyone comes in, alright?”

“You managed to hire a diamond dog?” I huffed, watching him eat a sandwich of some sort.

“You mean Bo? Yeah, I still can't believe it. He seems pretty cool with it, though.”

“Hey, as lung as tuh bike's uff when I'm wurking un it, I nut complain,” he chuckled, his voice high and nasal.

She headtilted in her cute way. “Huh. I didn't know that pigs could make food.”

Namira, Zoleks' marefriend, sat down next to us after we set Hummingbird down on the couch. “So... you just told her that pork comes from pigs?”

“Well, on the bright side,” Zoleks looked at me, “the boys are happy we're getting an extended dinner break.”

“... there's not any meat in this, is there?” Hummingbird asked as we sat down for dinner at their table.

“For the third time, no there isn't,” I said with an easy smile, giving her a nudge with my nuzzle. “You'll get used to seeing it while you're here. We've got tons of griffins.”

“Don't worry 'bout it,” Namira pat her on the shoulder, sliding her a bowl of...

“Special occasion.” She smiled and slid me my own bowl. “Welcome home, Frost.”

“Home sweet home,” I sighed happily, forming a pair of ice arms. “Enjoy everyone. So Zoleks, c'mon. I've been talking a lot about Canterlot already. How's things here?”

“Well, you've seen my buds downstairs.” He grinned back at me. “Economy's starting to pick up again, so business is booming. Means more bikes on the road and bikes getting fixed or tricked out here. Means I can open up for evening hours again- I mean, you just saw all the guys downstairs. Just last week, this Hardly-Mason? Turned it into a real hot rod, hah! Sleek, shiny, slender- just beautiful, buck. The new supplier from Ponyville really helps a lot on that department. Real good prices. Have Namira to thank for that.”

“Oh?” Hummingbird canted her head after taking a clumsy mouthful of udon. “You help him out here? And this tastes wonderful, by the way.”

“Thank you.” The zebra mare bowed her head in gratitude. “And yes, I try to help out how I can here. I have recently been learning how to help fix bikes with him.”

“Ehhh, Cramp's been a better teacher than I've been really,” Zoleks chuckled. “I ain't too good at that teaching stuff.”

I looked between the two of them. Yeah... it was only a matter of time now... I couldn't help but glance over at Hummingbird all the same. I didn't want her to be another Song Spinner, but I still hoped that maybe- maybe- we could be something more all the same.

“Come on, Hummingbird!” Zoleks laughed as he led us through downtown, Namira trotting right up behind him. “You haven't been to Manehattan until you've hit the clubs!”

“Can't it wait until tomorrow?” she whined, barely able to keep up with me. “I just got here! Little tired from the ride!”

“Which you practically slept through,” I snickered, bumping into her. “Don't worry, you'll feel pepped up in no time here. You're gonna get the Manehattan experience!”

City of Lights and Legends, folks. The white blanket of snow caused all the shimmering lights to gleam off of the streets, walkways, and roofs. It was Manehattan during the most beautiful time of the year- and still the nocturnal splendor was going on strong- especially at The Lazy Dog. Ahhhh... it was all coming back- the good memories at least. Didn’t want anything to do with the Mumei anymore.

“Sup, Hammer,” I greeted the door bouncer. He blanched, went rigid, and did absolutely nothing as we passed on by, trading the coolness of the night for the rhythm and light. The sea of dark bodies on the dance floor and in the air, lit up by the strobe lights and beam talismans, Silva rocking it behind the turntables... and Lunafyre was on. Ahhhh, it was good to be back.

“Holy buck this is loud!” Hummingbird shouted unnecessarily over the music.

I laughed heartily, “You'll get used to it!” I nodded to my zebra friend. “Go ahead and have fun, Zoleks!”

The chill buck gave me a hoof-pump and swung away with Namira, disappearing into the crowd. Meanwhile, Hummingbird let out a surprised yelp as I pulled her into heart of the dance floor. She was shy at first, looking about in wonder and perhaps a bit of claustrophobia from the sheer scale and crowdedness of it all. I just held close to her for a good minute or so. I was there. She would be okay. I gave her a bright, confident smile and helped her warm up to it. Soon, we found ourselves lost in the music, ripples and waves in the sea of bodies. As we swung and flung, twisted and turned, I had to take it all in- she was just beautiful. She was a clumsy dancer, yeah, but the way the lights caught her slender form for a split second, the way her brilliant crimson eyes shone in the dark, the way her mane settled after she tossed it back...

The storyteller sighed softly, mistily. He was neither smiling nor frowning, eyes half-lidded with a gentle twinkle to them. No emotion crossed his brow. He only looked so tired, so old. He was quiet until something snapped him out of his trance and he shook his head.

Sorry about that, folks. A-Anyway, it, uh... it wasn't long before we had to catch a breather at the bar. Sweat was matting down our fur and we were out of breath, but we both wore happy, fulfilled smiles on our faces. I was content to lean against her while our bodies wound down- even if I was eager to get back out on the dance floor. But then a claw tapped my shoulder...

A familiar petite griffiness was seated on my other side, beak curved in a grin. “Wassup, businesspony?”

“Vani?” I stared at her and then smiled wide. “Vani!” I swung out my hoof and she met with her hand, shaking firmly. “Great to see you again!”

“Right!” I motioned between them. “Hummingbird, Vani Windfall! Vani, Hummingbird!” I motioned to Hummingbird. “Marefriend!” And now to Vani. “Former owner/employer of The Lazy Dog!”

I tilted forward so they could reach across and shake hoof and hand. “Nice to meet you!” Vani said with a smile. “Heh, already got one, huh?”

“Hey, I'm not judging!” Vani huffed. “Zoleks let me know you were headed back today, so I popped in to say hi! I see it's still as loud as ever here!” She patted my back. “Look, we can catch up some more later! You get back out there and have a good time, okay?” The griffiness smirked and then waved a hand high in the direction of the turntables, motioning to me afterward and giving a thumb's-up. I looked over to see Silva looking over and then nodding and smiling, typing away at the compact terminal wired up to the turntables using her wings. Huh...

I didn't know what that was all about until the next track. Heavy bass blasted from the speakers, and at once I felt completely invigorated. By the time the cymbals went on, I already knew what it was- Yellow Line. Hummingbird cried out happily as I took her by the hoof, pulled her back into the heart of the dance floor, and we rocked it hard.

I cracked my eyes open, taking in my surroundings. We were in a simple guest bedroom in Zoleks' house. Beige wallpaper, a small television set, a warm bed, a lamp on the nightstand... I huffed at myself at how utterly extravagant and unnecessary all the furnishings back in my dorm in Canterlot were in comparison. This was how I grew up- worse than this actually- and that was all I needed in a bedroom. I glanced at the clock. Eight-fifteen... yep, back to Manehattan time at last. I looked down at the beautiful green mare snuggled close to me. I just loved that squeaky snore of hers... it was just so cute...

I nudged at her cheek and gave her a kiss, causing her to let out soft groan in protest. “Too early, Froooost...” she whined.

“Come on, Hummingbird,” I chuckled and gave her rear a rough rub before slipping away from her. “Up, up, up.”

She let out a soft giggle. “Okay, fine, fine.” She rose with me, letting out a squeaky yawn and smacking her lips. The green mare took a look at the time and grumbled, “Not even eight-thirty yet! We only got like five hours of sleep!”

“Welcome to Manehattan,” I said with a grin, sprouting a pair of ice arms to make the bed.

“Can we at least get some coffee?” the green mare murmured, rubbing her eyelids with her wings.

I laughed outright, “Hahaa! Hummingbird, this is Manehattan. We don't need coffee growing up like this!”

“Heh, alright, alright. We'll swing by a hotel on our way out. They have coffee shops in there.” I rolled my eyes. “Such a tourist.” Hummingbird lightly smacked me upside the back of my head with a wing, and I looked back at her with a smirk. She mirrored it herself and we fell into chuckles as we drew up close and shared a kiss. “Come on. We'll see if the shower doesn't wake you up.”

“Thanks again for the hospitality, Zoleks, Namira,” I said with a tip of my trusty hat as we left.

“Yeah, thanks for being so accommodating.” Hummingbird likewise thanked with a wave.

“Hey, no problem, buck.” The chill zebra grinned, giving a quick salute in farewell. “Just lemme know where and when to meet you for the festival after you talk to your folks, aight?”

I froze. I was... supposed to talk to them about that. Buck me. “Uh, sure thing, Zoleks! See you!”

Shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot. Uhhhhhhh, well, I had all day... right? Didn't have to see them now...

“Well heyyyy, Frost!” Shinespark, the orange, red-maned unicorn mare greeted as we stepped into her office at the Manehattan Magical Institute. “What a pleasant surprise to see you! How's Canterlot been? Who's your friend there?”

“Hello again, Professor Whitney,” I greeted, removing my fedora with a pair of ice arms and pressing it to the barrel of my chest respectfully. I motioned to the mare beside me. “This is Hummingbird. I guess you could call her my marefriend.”

Hummingbird quickly smacked me upside the back of my head with a wing without changing expression or looking away.

The Northerner unicorn just giggled. “Okay, okay, now... tell me all about Canterlot! How's your cryomancy been doing? Any progress there?”

“Heh, well, to start, first thing about Canterlot I found was that it was really expensive...”

“So, what'd you think of her?” I asked Hummingbird as we started leaving campus.

“I think she'd be a pretty fun professor to attend lecture for,” she answered with a smile. “She's pretty friendly.”

“Yeah, definitely,” I chuckled softly, glancing at the campus clock tower. Ten-oh-seven... still had plenty of time. Definitely still had plenty of time. No need to rush and see them right away...

“Wow, it feels like forever since we've eaten here, Frost,” Vani huffed with a grin as we sat down outside her favorite cafe. She motioned to the male griffin beside her. “Alden, this is my friend Frost and his marefriend, Hummingbird. Guys, this is my boyfriend here.”

I smiled and sprouted an ice arm to clasp hands with him. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Heh, Frost and I go back seven... no, almost eight years,” the griffiness replied. “He and some of his friends were trying to get work at The Lazy Dog back when I was the owner. Heh, at twelve years old no less. He was able to push through this city ordinance that allowed minors to get most jobs in the city with parent or guardian consent. Passed in a landslide victory, I tell ya.”

This was starting to get a little too close to the Mumei for comfort, but I rolled with it even as my heart started to beat faster and my neck began to tingle. “Yeah, that was Prop Four way back when, heh...”

“Don't think so,” Alden said. “That's the same story she told me, and given he talked to my boss just before the prop went up on the docket, I'd say he had something to do with it.”

He nodded. “Yep. I'm usually on patrol in the northern quarter out east to the docks. Farrow's still alive and kicking as commissioner. But yeah, I think Frost here had something to do with Prop Four.”

“And you never told me you were behind all that?” Hummingbird stared. “Allowing older minors to work was one of the ideas I had at a Model United Nations conference! General Assembly Second Committee and all that!”

I peered at a clock store as we passed by. Twelve-thirteen. Still have plenty of time to kill. No rush at all to see them.

“Hey, Hummingbird, did you want to see the view from the Pony of Friendship?” I asked her.

“... can see so much from the torch- I mean, there's the Lights and Legends Building, and if you look to the right,” I pointed out for Hummingbird over the gently whipping wind, “you can see the twin towers of the World Trade Center.”

“Oh, and if you follow that road to the right to Meridian and follow it downtown, veering left, there's the Institute.”

“You can really see it all from up here, Hummingbird. Celestia, the view is beautiful, isn't it-”

I looked at her. “Sorry, just... I know it's only been a few months, but I've missed this city so much, Hummingbird. I've never really been outside of it until I had to head to Canter-”

You know that feeling when you get caught with a lie? That feeling where your whole body seizes up and you get sweaty around the shoulders? I was getting that feeling, and I'd learned to ignore it when someone called me out on a lie. I did it with Zoleks, I did it with enemies of the Mumei, I did it with the police, I did it with my parents, but I couldn't do it with Hummingbird. I just seized up and started getting that prickly feeling on my shoulders.

“What are you scared about?” she asked, drawing a wing over my back, hitting just the spot to help me relax. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, allowing me to think clearly. No veil of deceit this time.

“I'm... I'm just scared about being rejected again,” I said. “I mean, I was... pretty independent for most of my childhood, but... they disowned me over what I did, Hummingbird. They still call me their son, but I don't know how they'll react.”

“Sounds like you're just scared of what you don't know.” She smiled softly at me, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Let's go. We won't know unless we try, right?”

I looked over to the northern quarter of the city, filled with dread and anxiety as I slowly nodded and stood to go.

I don't know how long I stood in front of my family's... our mansion, craning my head up to take it all in. I kept on thinking of excuses to turn back, maybe ask to take Zoleks' guest bedroom again. It was early evening now. Maybe they were having dinner. I remember we liked to have early dinners. I should come back later. Maybe they were bathing. I could always come back tomorrow. Maybe they were relaxing, watching a movie together. I shouldn't interrupt. Later, later, I could always come back later. I should come back later. Take the easy way out. Just take the easy way out.

Hummingbird drew a wing over me and nuzzled my cheek gently. She looked into my eyes, and I looked into hers. I suddenly found all sense of anxiety fade away as I lost myself in the striking crimson and violet. “Go on. I'm here.”

Such simple words, and yet they gave me so much comfort. I drew in a breath- not deep, not sharp, just natural. I strode forward, raised my hoof, and rang the doorbell.

I could hear the chime echo through the halls of our home just as my own heartbeat echoed through my entire body. It could take five minutes for one of them to get to the door if they were busy at the far ends of the building. It didn't make it any easier as I awaited the moment of truth.

My mother opened the door first- coat of verdant green and short mane the color of fine lotus powder streaked with aged gray. The withered earth pony mare just looked at me with an expression that betrayed no irritation or surprise. I don't think she even looked at Hummingbird. For once, I was at a loss as to what could be on her mind, even with my experience with dealing with other people.

I somehow found the courage to speak first. “Hello, mother,” I said somewhat fragile tone.

She just turned away, refusing to meet my gaze as she opened the door wider for us. “Welcome home, Frostbane.”

The tension loosened its grip around my neck and I let out a soft breath. They still welcomed me back home- why was I afraid of that in the first place? Of course I was welcome. Well... I was permitted back home at the very least. Nevertheless, I bowed respectfully and stepped through. Hummingbird hastily followed my lead and stepped in with me before mom shut the door.

It was now that Mother noticed and looked at the pegasus mare beside me. She paused- us as well. “Is she a friend of yours?”

I looked from Hummingbird to Mother and swallowed as tension wrapped its fingers around my throat once more. “Her? Uh... she's...” I glanced at Hummingbird, “she's my marefriend.”

Mother looked at her with a look that betrayed... surprise? (The storyteller appeared to rethink this.) Intrigue, perhaps. “Aren't you going to introduce me to her?”

“Oh! Uh, well,” I coughed politely, “this is Hummingbird. Hummingbird, this is my mother.”

Mother continued to look between us. Then she cracked a smile and chuckled softly as she proceeded toward the living room. “Looks like the green will run in the family.”

I stared wide-eyed at her as she slowly went along while Hummingbird let out a muted giggle. Did... did she just make a joke? With me? The tension hanging in the air melted away and I found myself smiling softly as I led Hummingbird along to follow.

“Wow... you've got a beautiful mansion,” she remarked, taking a moment to appreciate the tiling of the spiraling princesses on the floor. “It's... wow, you weren't kidding, Frost.”

“And he was the one who helped us get it,” Mother said to my surprise. Then, not to my surprise, she added, “Even if it was in a less than honorable way.”

Hummingbird looked at me confusedly. My smile faded and I shamefully shied away from her gaze. “M-Mother... can we please not talk about that?” I implored. “I just wish to put that behind me.”

She paused and looked back at me with that unreadable expression. Today I know for a fact that my poker face comes from her. She merely nodded and headed on. To this day, I can only guess how she felt about that. Disappointed, probably.

Father was waiting in the living room, seated on one of the couches- coat a distinguished white, mane and tail a wholesome blue speckled with gray. Mother sat beside him, Hummingbird and I across from them on another couch.

Father drew in a soft breath and said with a small frown, “Welcome home, Frost. How was school?”

“It was good,” I responded in a hesitant, halfhearted manner. “How are, uh,” I motioned just off to the side without any clear direction, “things here?”

“Good,” he similarly answered. It, it was there- that... that same hesitation. None of us wanted to be here. I certainly didn't. We were just going through the motions to be courteous and presentable- for the sake of Hummingbird, I think.

We all talked for a spell- just idle chatter. How was Canterlot? How did Hummingbird and I come to meet? Tell about yourself, Hummingbird. Such and such, now what about you, Mister Dust and Missus Cure? Though I felt more at ease around then than I had ever since I dishonored them, a distant unease clung to the air. With every question asked and answered, I felt that they were judging me. If it were Mother alone, I could have merely suspected. Father's emotion, on the other hoof, was much clearer. A tinny frown or the slight smile could worry or empower me. It's the little things, I found, that swayed me the most. I knew I was trying to be friendly, trying to be civil.

The storyteller paused, working his jaw around and breaking eye contact for a moment.

I understand I never really talked a whole lot about my parents. It's because I never really spent a lot of time with them after I met Zoleks, then with the Mumei, then after being disowned. So, you might be thinking, “Big deal. Suck it up. You don't need them.”

Maybe I didn't, but that's taking away the equine element. Do you know how many friends I really had? Really? Zoleks. Hummingbird. Vani Windfall. Shinespark Whitney. Maybe Silva Hound. I didn't have many friends, and those I cherished the few I had. At the end of the day, even when I ruled the biggest gang that ever walked the Manehattan streets, I always came back home. My parents were always there to greet me. They were the ones who brought me up, consoled me, cared for me. All without expecting anything- truly- in return. They knew I was going to walk out the door after breakfast. They trusted me and let me be my own stallion. Family are friends that matter most, and I willingly betrayed their trust and did all of that- Prop Four, the Mumei, the gang war- behind their backs.

I have a lot of things to regret, folks. I know where I've erred, where others erred. It's my virtue to know.

The storyteller leaned back and tilted his head up to the ceiling for a second or two, letting out a soft grunt as his joints popped.

Eventually, we ran out of things to talk about. We were just sitting in the same room, breathing the same air, avoiding eye contact, sitting in silence. There was nothing left to distract me, nothing to get in my way.

Remember what I said yesterday, folks? Back when I was first turning Sunny to my side? (He spoke in an eerily identical tone,) Ponies... people with nothing to lose and everything to gain will grasp at the first shred of hope they see. It's a fact.

I lowered my head (the old unicorn did just that) and let out a sigh, breaking the tense silence and putting all eyes on me. Twiiiilight Sparkle, it was like putting all the spotlights on me as I opened up a show. I never thought myself the type to get stage fright after all those years of publicly speaking to the Mumei, but here I was with the people that mattered most to me, scared out of my wits.

I lifted my head up, (He did so and pointed at his eyes,) established eye contact, (Now from his to the audience's), assumed good posture (And up he rose, straightening out), and prepared to speak.

“Mom, Dad, I...” Okay, good. I linked the three of us together in an endearing way. “I was told there is going to be a vigil for all Northerners tomorrow.” Use strong verbs and you make strong words. Declare, don’t imply. “If it's not too much trouble, I would like to join both of you in attending it.” Be polite. Establish that you are are trying to be convenient, but be firm with your wording.

Father tilted his head- in confusion? Surprise perhaps? Mother turned her head ever so slightly to the side. She was caught off-guard, her poker face fractured. They shared a quick look. Then Father asked, “Why?”

“I haven't been faithful to my heritage,” I answered, making that allowance, using the contraction to dull the blow, “and I certainly haven't been faithful to you.” Make it personal. Make that connection. Reach out and touch them heart-to-heart. “I don't know much about our people. I don't even know much of our language.” Admit fault with haste and sincerity. “It shouldn't be that way.” I let out a sigh. “Mom, Dad... you both really do mean a lot to me. I want to make it up to you, even if just a little.” Finish it. “Please.”

Mother and Father shared a glance for a few seconds. I waited anxiously, worry gnawing at my gut. Finally, they nodded and turned back to me.

“You and Hummingbird may join us, Frost,” said Mother with a tiny smile, the gnawing feeling swept away now and relief surging up instead. “We will talk more about the festival later.”

Father nodded likewise with a smile of his own, not quite as tiny. “Go to sleep early. We will be waking before dawn. Dress warm as well. The Cloudsdale Organization of Lightning and Thunder have scheduled for more snowfall.”

This is going to be... one of those segments, folks. It's going to be one of those times in which I have a life-changing experience. You learned a lot about me just through my ambitions with the Mumei. But I didn't. I only learned that I had to control my ambition for personal power and glory lest I hurt those most important to me- and myself. I've said it before- the most important lessons come early in life. It was still early in my life.

Because nothing, I believe, was more important than what I learned during those few days.

We were up at four-thirty in the morning. It felt odd being the only one who didn't have to dress warm for the cold weather outside. Mother and Father were still Northerners. They- we- had the innate, stalwart resistance to the cold that all of them had. Mother wore only a simple coat while Father actually wore the ancient, scaled set of armor he showed to me months before. The old plates clinked together with the weight of so many years, but he never looked prouder. Hummingbird was almost comically layered up in a sweater and sweatpants, a rash guard on top, a snow jacket, and a scarf. She had boots at the door for on the way out. I couldn't blame her, though. She still had the weak constitution, even with all the strength she got back from finally eating well again.

“I could just help peel away the cold for all over you,” I offered to them as we met for breakfast. We all had just a simple slice of toast with our choice of nut butter. “It wouldn't be difficult.”

“Your father and I must decline,” Mother spoke, interrupting. “Oh, sorry, Hummingbird.”

“It wouldn't be... appropriate, Frost,” Father explained. “The point of the Northern Lights Festival is to preserve the memory of our culture. It... it wouldn't feel right to be warm in midst of all that.” Then he added, “I mean no offense.”

“Yeah... I think maybe I'll decline too, then,” Hummingbird said. “I mean, I'm already all dressed for it.” Then she- cutely, if I may add- tilted her head. “Northern Lights? Is that what they're calling it?”

Father smiled thinly and chuckled softly as he helped slip on a set of saddlebags. “Fitting, isn't it?”

We all helped out with carrying what we needed to bring for the festival. A great deal of it was Hokkaidan food along with some... kind of book I never saw before. I approached it, sprouting an ice arm to take a look at it. Mother blocked my hand as I reached for it, not even flinching from the cold. I hastily sublimated it and retreated. The withered earth pony mare simply nodded in thanks and used her mouth to place the tome into her own saddlebags as if with reverence.

When we left the house, I was astonished to find so many ponies already starting to do the same. The Northerners filtered from their homes with warm coats and bulky saddlebags. Some of them even drew carts. Snow drifted slowly down from above in the sky, glinting in...

No wait, they weren't glinting. Odd. They should've been catching all the... light.

I looked about in surprise as I found nearly all of the lights around us off. There were only the streetlights and the lights in the homes of the Northerners making last preparations to leave. It was a strange, almost alien sight. Even Hummingbird looked mildly surprised. Mother and Father acted as if all was right in the world, however, and so we pushed on, making tracks in the snow like so many others.

It soon became apparent that we were all gathering near Meridian Main Street. It was the street that roughly split Manehattan's east and west halves, and it was also the largest street with ten lanes total. I felt my jaw hang open as I beheld what must have been thousands upon thousands of Northerners convened there from all over the city- millions, as I later learned. Never before in my life- or ever since- have I ever seen a larger gathering. Ponies of all shapes, sizes, and colors drew together as one, shuffling together and making space for everyone else. There was no sign of authority or leadership. They just instinctively made way for one another like it was second nature. Maybe it's some kind of herd instinct now long lost in the Wasteland.

Zoleks, his parents, and Namira were waiting for us where the road met. I smiled brightly and shuffled through the current of ponies over to them and wrapped my forelegs around the buck in a hug. Our parents met shortly after and started to talk between themselves. Hummingbird just took to the air and settled down beside us.

“Pfft, you like how I cheat,” she snickered, brushing a primary along my side.

I shuddered and shied away from her. “Hummingbird! Not in public...” She just used a wing to stifle her laughter. Stupid cute Hummingbird...

“Well damn if this isn't the most people I've seen ever,” Zoleks remarked. “You have any idea where you guys are supposed to be going?”

“A rough idea,” Father responded. “Just stay close.” Then he headed off with Mother and Zoleks' parents following along, chit-chatting all the while.

“'A rough idea'?” Namira arced an eyebrow. “That doesn't inspire hope with a crowd like this.”

“More like a parade,” Zoleks huffed. “Come on, featherbuck. Let's get going.”

We all shuffled along amidst the crowd at an even pace, feeling neither rushed nor like we were about to be separated from one another. Somehow, someway, we found a place to settle down on the freshly fallen snow. The crowd seemed to more or less face toward the north. I craned my neck, thankful for being slightly taller than average. I barely made out a small platform where a small group of ponies appeared to be conversing. I couldn't hope to make anything out over the low din of hushed conversation among friends and family, so I instead let my eyes wander over the tapestry of Northerners. Except it wasn't all Northerners. I spotted a variety of other equines in the crowd. To true Manehattan flavor, there were zebras, griffins, donkeys, mules, and buffalo here. Hay, one of the unicorn mares sitting nearby was clearly an Equestrian pony with her lack of the Northerner slant to the eye and sharpness of the muzzle.

“Looks like I'm not the only one who brought a friend or two,” I remarked to Hummingbird.

“Can't blame them,” she said. “This is probably the biggest public event I've ever seen. Somepony- oh, sorry- someone was bound to get curious.”

“Actually, I'm an equinpologist from MMI,” the Equestrian unicorn beside us spoke up. Now that I took more than a glance at her, I noticed her sky-blue fur and her red, flowing mane. “I'm here on research.”

She nodded. “Yep. This is probably the best opportunity to get information on Northerner culture. Straight from the horse's mouth, as it were. I don't know if you younger people know, but a lot of knowledge was lost during The Great Exodus. Oh, I'm sorry!” She reached a hoof across the back of the pony beside her to reach me. “Professor Shipley.”

I stretched out to shake her hoof. “Frost Windchill. Pleased to meet you.” We released and I teetered a little. Zoleks caught me and pulled me upright, and I took a moment to nod in thanks before turning back to Shipley. “You were saying something about the Exodus?”

“Oh, yes.” She levitated out a notebook and quill. “A lot of cultural knowledge was lost to the deadly winter twenty years ago, you understand. What I'm doing here is simply keeping my eyes and ears open to document as much as possible.”

“Well, you know, traditions, customs, rules of conduct, ideologies, such and such. That's the basics of it.” Shipley rolled a hoof as she made her verbal list. “... you don't follow, do you? Okay, let me put it this way.” She shifted a bit to get more comfortable. “When your people fled from the Far North, they did so with minimum preparation. Save for the family album or some other memorabilia, they took very little with them as they tried to escape south. On top of all that, millions upon millions of them perished along the way or went missing and were never accounted for. Just think of all that knowledge stored up in here,” She patted her forehead, “that was lost in addition to that. Documentation of Northerner culture is hard to come by outside of archives in major colleges and universities. It's why the Northern Lights Festival is the biggest thing in equinpology right now. I have colleagues in Burrlin, Moscovo, Flankorage, and Stalliongrad attending festivals there. It's our greatest opportunity to find out as much as possible about this lost culture- yours.”

I was taken completely aback by all of that. Truth be told, all that I told you way back when I started telling this story about my past, before the War and all of this? I barely knew any of that. It's only because of my experiences with the Northern Lights Festivals that I learned all of what I told you folks.

“Most people don't,” the unicorn mare said with a shrug. “That's why I'm here. We can't forget that these things matter.” She looked to the north again. “Oh, it looks like they're about to start. I'll pipe down now. Maybe we'll talk more later.”

Hummingbird appropriately nudged me to face forward once again. Now there was only a single pony on the distant stage. The barely visible glimmer from her forehead told me this one was a unicorn.

“Welcome, Northerners and guests alike,” a female voice rang out around us. Okay, she was a mare, and she was broadcasting her voice out to us using magic so that we could all hear her at a normal volume. Sometimes, I really wished I could've used all these other spells. I could hear the murmurs of Northerners around us translating for those who couldn't fully speak Equestrian. “We are gathered here these next three days to hold vigil to our past lives in the Far North. Whatever name you call our home, it is still that- our home. And our bond there will never be severed.

“Today, we have to be reminded of the terrible tragedy of The Great Exodus twenty years ago. For many of us, the scars still linger. Old wounds may yet still open. Rest assured, everyone, we must pull through this and endure. We must endure for the sake of those that follow. Many of you have started new families. I know I have.” She appeared to look to a very specific place in the crowd for only a moment. “And right now, this new generation might be growing up without knowing their own heritage.” I felt my heart ache a little to those words. “It is our duty to uphold our tradition so that we may pass it on. We've lost so much to the Exodus. We don't need to lose any more. We need to have a future. But in order to do so, we must invest in the present. And the present is built on the foundations of the past.

“That is why here- today, these three days- we invite everyone to partake in this festival, this vigil. Be not suspicious or wary of them. Welcome them into your circles and share with them your tales and experiences. At the same time, I must ask that all visitors remain respectful and not press for information. Again, The Great Exodus was a tragic moment in our lives that still haunts us today. Please be mindful and acknowledge that we may not be willing to share all of our stories.

“Today, on the first day of the Northern Lights Festival, we shall share our tales, the cherished remnants of our past lives that we are willing to pass on to others.” I couldn't help but look at Father at that. He smiled a proud smile. “We are not eternal, and so we must pass the torch to the newer generation. You have already been informed of where each of the Northerner peoples will reside for this day in the festival. Be not afraid to mingle and explore other cultures. We all share the same kinship, and perhaps we have more to learn from others than from ourselves.

“And so I mark today, December fifteenth, as the first day of the Northern Lights- The Day of Remembrance.”

A group of pegasi shot into the air from the crowd, arcing and weaving dynamically skyward. There, they pulled back the cloud curtain to reveal the endless expanse of sky above. Dawn was breaking, and the rising sun cast a pastel yellow-orange glow to the east. It made for a very beautiful scene with the gently falling snow. The pegasi then sped back down for the ground toward the unicorn at the platform, arching back into the sky as she formed an overglow and fired a magical beam straight upward. The pegasi scattered away from one another as the beam erupted in a fantastic burst of energy that seemed to warp the sky itself in a dazzling array of colors. It was strikingly similar to a moving rainbow. The aurora undulated with life of its own, reflected in the drifting snowflakes. Gasps of awe filled the morning air- my own as well. I felt the slightest wetness against my eyes.

The Day of Remembrance was meant specifically for passing on traditions to the next generation- and that meant cuisine, customs, and culture. Definitely cuisine. Heh, one thing was for sure- nobody went hungry (The storyteller smiled and let out a soft, husky chuckle). I mean... the Hokkaidans alone had more ramen, udon, tempura, edamame, goma-ae, tonchi nasu, dengaku, hangetsu...

Eh, uh... Roanoke, help them out a little? Sorry if I'm on a roll here, folks. Just... it was a good time. It was nice and warm amidst the crowds and stands, the smell of familiar foods mingling in the air. Everyone was happy, smiling, laughing, eating. It was a time of plenty. Nobody seemed to go hungry and there always seemed to be enough food for everyone. (He let out another chuckle.) Hummingbird was so overwhelmed in it all. I couldn't blame her. She'd been eating vegetable soup for who knows how long and now she had the opportunity of a lifetime to sample true Northerner gourmet. I think the reason why Zoleks, Namira, Hummingbird, and I checked out the other ponies of the Far North was less because of my curiosity and more because of her desire to, well...

“I must try all the food!” the green pegasus mare declared with a squee, happily hovering in midair.

“Hummingbird, you know we've got three days like this, right?” I asked, unable to keep from grinning in spite of myself. She was just too cute, dammit.

It was a wonderful palette of food that day. I found myself eating small portions of everything along with Hummingbird in a manner similar to the Haysians' “dim-sum”. Thulians were hooves-down the best at seafood. I thought that Hokkaidan kelp was something. Heh, the Thulians used seagrass, barnacle barley, fluted sea pickle, and some kind of magically detoxified sea anemone. Horwegians had this red cabbage with this amazing crunch to it, these incredible potato dumplings, and a very creamy dish called rutmus. Like I said, nobody seemed to go hungry. Hay, I think some of them even took leftovers home after the festival.

Now for the customs part. At noontime, Father and several other older Hokkaidans in the same ancient, scaled armor stood in formation and at attention in a clearing we made specifically for the event. Mother told me they were performing the traditional “Changing of the Guard” ceremony that signaled the exchange of guard shifts at the Pearly Palace before the Exodus. She and Father lived in the capital city of Bīkon and had the opportunity to see the Pearly Palace in all its glory. It was so named because of the pearls inlaid into the stone blocks that the Hokkaidans used to construct the castle. She said she was going to miss being able to see the rising sun glint off of them like stars during daytime.

It then occurred to me that the Northerners weren't just some... backwards, primitive ponies who stubbornly refused to leave their home for a brighter, sunnier place. They were a civilization that birthed and grew up alongside the Equestrians, refusing to join them only because of their bond to the land. They had cities up there too. They didn't live in some run-down, straw-and-stone huts in villages- not all of them, anyway. They had industries, corporations, museums, monuments, skyscrapers, shipping yards. That put everything in a whole new light for me. Equinekind was at the pinnacle of civilization during those years, the Northerners along with them. And they suddenly had all of that taken away from them. I tried to imagine... (the storyteller sighed,) just... tried to imagine a horrible, unimaginably horrible winter descend on Manehattan and completely wipe it out. It was unthinkable. I just couldn't imagine it. To think- all that taken away in a matter of days. (He shook his head.) Traumatizing. It must have been absolutely traumatizing.

We weren't the only ones either. Looking at the ceremonial “Dragon Dance” of the Haysians and the Horwegian Krigsropet, or “war chant”, I realized that-

The storyteller paused as a colt expressed his surprise that the Horwegians were practicing a war chant.

Oh yes. Ponies have tasted war in the past, long before The Great War and even long before the War of the Heavens. The evidence is there. It's just been so long. But that's a story for a different time.

Where was I...? Hm... ah, right. I realized that the Northerners were a great people with a rich history- a history I was completely oblivious to in my personal lust for power. Yet again, I felt humbled under the weight of all this.

As the day drew to an end and the sun dipped beneath the horizon, we moved onto sharing our culture. It was the perfect place, time, and atmosphere. We huddled together around campfires for warmth amidst the gently falling snow, and without the lights of Manehattan, the stars of the night sky were visible to all. It was awe-inspiring to many of us including myself who rarely had the opportunity to relish their beauty. Combined with the snowfall, it looked like the very stars themselves were floating down to earth.

Mother and Father told a great many stories that night- stories of the heroic, the cunning, the foolish, the shameful. I... heh, I think I'll save those stories for another time. They're epics in their own right, some of them. Each of them served as windows to the past, reflecting the values that Hokkaidans valued and vilified. There was usually at least one guest listening or an equinpologist patiently observing. One of those tales especially resonated with me.

“This was my favorite tale from my father,” Mother began. “I guess that now I'll pass it on for him and pass it onto you. There once was a great, craggy mountain in the middle of a great, craggy desert...”

I'll... I think I'll save it for another time. But it had a good message, and... it spoke to me. It wouldn't be until years later that I fully appreciated it.

No, I think I'll speak of what my father taught me that night, that most important lesson I've ever learned.

“Frost,” he said, leaning forward and speaking directly to me this time, his features lit by the soft firelight. “This is mostly for you. Hokkaidans live through a special code of conduct. You might have heard of our samurai living by the code of honor known as Bushidō. My father lived by that code. I do not. I never took up the oaths. My... uh... my brother was to inherit the armor.” He sighed through his nostrils, his breath visible in the cold winter air, and flattened his lips. He was silent for a few seconds. “He didn't make the journey. Sometimes, I still wonder how I did. He was the one who trained in the Warrior's Way. He was the one who strove to... to perfect his mind and body. I wonder sometimes- why me?” The distinguished white stallion felt at his breastplate. I could almost imagine him trying to reach out to his brother's, his father's hearts.

“Hokkaidans live through a special code of conduct,” Father spoke again. “In Hokkaido, we called it Yukute. In Equestrian, it means The Way. It cannot be taught, only learned. No one can dictate how one lives The Way. Just as there are infinitely many paths through life, there are infinitely many ways to stay true to Your Way. No one knows where it leads but oneself, and not everyone can follow the same path. Inevitably, you have to walk alone.”

He looked back at me with eyes vacant with the weight of years of experience. “There is only a simple standard behind The Way, Yukute. It is that good and evil coexist. One cannot simply be without the other, and so one can never truly be vanquished. Our lives are guided by the constant struggle for balance between these two forces. It is... this sense of thesis versus antithesis, a war between opposites. From them comes a... a synthesis, something... new. Something unique. It is this struggle that defines our... character.

“What do you do when there's no one watching? What do you do when there's no one to guide you? You know how to use words, Frost. I know this. You've used them to bring out and to obfuscate the truth. But say what you mean, and mean what you say. Actions speak louder than words. They define who we are. These actions are what truly show our character, Our Way. Do you do what must be done? Or do you do as you wish and take the other road, even if it is the more individual one? Who is to say which choice is 'good' and which is 'evil'? Would you smite the one who has wronged so many in the past in retribution, or would you turn the cheek and risk him learning nothing with the chance to repent? There is no clear choice- only the one you believe is right.”

Every word came crisp and clear now. Father spoke with a gravity I have never heard from him before, weighted with the utmost importance. “And so we must learn. We must learn to see the good in that which is evil, and we must learn to see the evil in that which is good. Pledge allegiance to neither side but instead strive to strike your own balance between the two. That is the meaning of Yukute. That is the meaning of The Way.”

I didn't sleep much that night. My thoughts were consumed by what were without a doubt the most important words I'd ever heard in my life. What path did I walk, and where was it going to take me? I've undoubtedly caused great pains to a great many in the past. Was the further pain I caused worth erasing all of that, the Mumei? In the end, I convinced myself it was the lesser of two evils. I couldn't have let the Mumei perpetuate above the law. But did I truly erase all of it? Could I wipe the slate clean and start afresh just like that? Even now, I still know I can use my honeyed words to get what I want. It was that power, that dangerous power I held that could make history. Understand, folks, I don't want to put myself on a golden throne here. But... the words I've spoken and the words I chose to remain unspoken have, without a doubt, made history.

I turned my head to the side, careful not to disturb Hummingbird as she nestled in the same sleeping bag as me. Zoleks was awake, looking at me as well.

“Me too,” I sighed mistily in the cold air. “It's just... wow. I never knew all of this.”

“Well that's why you're here, right?” Zoleks said with a soft smile lit by the firelight. “Try not to let it get to ya, Frost.”

“Trying and accomplishing are two very different things, Zoleks,” I huffed softly.

“Sorry!” Zoleks whispered back. Then eyes back on me... those sincere, brown eyes. “Get some sleep, alright? We've got a whole two more days of all this. Sleep tight, Frost.”

The storyteller took in a deep breath, taking a moment to sprout a pair of ice arms and undo the clasps on his helm. Lifting it from his head, he rubbed at his greasy-black mane and steeled himself.

All awake. Bellies full. Bodies warm. Huddled together. Around fires. Eyes north. On platform.

“Your attention please,” the unicorn mare began again, her tone weary, somber. All quiet. “Thank you, everyone. Today will be the hardest for all of us. We owe it to ourselves to pass our history onto those that follow, and with those come our most painful memories. The Great Exodus has gone down as the worst disaster in recorded history. Over twenty million lost their lives. Over eight million are still missing to this day. Many of us are still searching for our friends and loved ones. I'm still searching.

“We cannot allow such a tragedy to be forgotten in time. To forget it all would be the same as killing all those millions a second time.” Her voice began to shudder. “All of us lost someone close. Those who live- we who live- must carry them on in memory. It is our great burden, our great duty to ensure they are never forgotten. More than ever, I must ask for all guests to be as respectful as possible. Today will be a difficult day for all of us.

“And so I mark today, December sixteenth, as the second day of the Northern Lights- The Day of Tears.”

A group of pegasi took off. There was no theatrical display this time. As one, they slowly rose up to the clouds, and the sky began to close. A great, gray curtain blotted out the sun. The snow stopped falling, and the world seemed to lose color. The pegasi returned to earth, hovering down with the grace and solemness of angels.

“May the Lorns give us strength today as we mourn and honor those who have passed.”

The Day of Remembrance was bittersweet. We brought to the present the past lives of the Northerners and celebrated their traditions. At the same time, it brought back lamentations of the end of an era.

The Day of Tears was just bitter. There was no fanfare, no laughter, no joy. Conversation was muted, hushed. It was the lowest of dins, often lost to the whispering winds that blew around us. Only the soft cries of newborns broke the quiet. Our food was simple, plain. There was no extravagance. It wouldn't honor the dead. The very idea of eating decadent food that day made me sick. And so we ate only rice or bread. Nothing more.

I finally learned what Mother shielded from me yesterday. It was a photo album, filled with pictures of her family.

“That's my sister,” Mother whispered. She pointed to a photo in the album of a younger-looking version of herself next to a pink-furred earth pony with a teal mane and eyes. They were the same height and looked to be close to the same age, but Mother already had the telltale wrinkles of her progeria. They were both wearing uniforms in front of what was presumably their school, hugging each other close to fit into frame that was cramped in amateur fashion. “Her first name was Jikkō. Her second, Sprint Spree.” She smiled softly, eyes half-lidded in reminiscence. “She was the fittest of my siblings. She earned her cutie-mark the earliest too. It was a finish line. Same one that she crossed in her school's hundred-meter dash. Fastest earth pony ever, I tell you.”

Mother let out a sad sigh. “She didn't make it.” She laid a hoof on the album, letting it fall along the laminated photos. “None of them did. So many times I wonder how I did. Just look at me. My knowledge of herbs and remedies kept my body strong, but until I met Modeba and Vinija, Zoleks' parents, I was aging three times as quickly as everyone else. I should have died. But that is survivor's guilt. I should... find happiness in that I am alive and have you as my son, Frost.” Another sigh as she flipped through the pages. “But sometimes I can't help but think that way again.” She flipped back to that picture. “I miss her. She was one of my few friends. I didn't have many.” She looked at me. “Family are friends that matter, Frost. I've lost a lot of friends.”

“Looking all these people, I can't help but hate myself,” Father whispered to me with a sigh. “I didn't bring my family album. I just forgot. How could I have done that? I remembered to bring my armor. Twenty kilograms of weight. And I forgot a book that weighed hardly one. I just... rushed. I was panicked. There was no time for everything.” He drew his lips taut for a few seconds. “But I had time for the armor. I keep on trying to make excuses for an inexcusable mistake.

“I envy you sometimes, Frost,” he said, turning to me with sad eyes. “Your memory is almost perfect. Everything that will happen here will forever remain with you. Even the smallest details, if you think hard enough. So please... son.” His words struck my heart- his tear-filled eyes as well as he took my hooves tightly in his. “Promise me, Frostbane... Hokkaido Windchill. Promise me you won't let the memory of our people die. Stay true to your name.”

My heart called out to his, and I felt a great weight upon it as I removed my hooves and held his, held tight. “I promise, Father. I won't fail you.”

He drew me into embrace, his head tucked over my shoulder. I could feel drops of wetness fall.

The night was clear when the pegasi peeled away the cloud curtain, featureless save for the full moon. The sky was empty of stars, leaving it an infinite black. There was still no snow save for that which was already beneath our feet.

Mother and Father led us up north. Everyone was heading that way as one, silent, solemn. We were all carrying candles. As we left the city limits and moved into the countryside, cresting over a hill, I looked behind us. The crowd looked almost formless in the unlit night, instead taking the form of a sea of candlelight undulating with waves of gentle movement.

Mother and Father didn't reply when I asked where we were going. They only wordlessly motioned for us to stand and follow, just as the rest of the crowd slowly did. No words were spoken. The only sounds filling the void were the murmurs of the wind and crunch of hoof and foot against snow and ice.

I couldn't tell where we were going or how far we were going. What I did know is that we were gradually slowing down. I couldn't yet see past the crowd, but I could tell that we were nearing the end of the procession and that we were spreading out along wherever it ended.

It was a wall, a long wall a little under three meters in height. It stretched for... it must have been at least a kilometer in length. Because all along that wall, people were putting pieces of paper up and setting down their candles. I couldn't fully tell what they were doing, not until... not until we got close enough. But there were so many of them. So many. The wall was large enough so that not all of the space was filled, but it was starting to get there. Hummingbird, staying close by my side and clutching her candle in her wing, suddenly raised her other wingtip to her mouth and widened her eyes, pupils wavering. I couldn't tell what was wrong. I looked at her in worry... and then I looked at the wall. Those weren't papers they were putting up.

Folks, when... when you think about how many people died in The Great Exodus, you think of numbers. Maybe a few names. But... if you want to remember somepony, someone... you think of a face.

I felt my heart grow heavy as I halted in utter shock. I slowly turned my head to look behind me. The procession was far from over.

The storyteller covered his mouth with a hoof, turning his gaze downward. He was blinking rapidly, eyes glossing over.

That wall was later to be known as the Wall of Faces. Every survivor of The Great Exodus put up pictures of their lost friends and family. When you reached the Wall, you followed it down. You walked for what seemed like ages, just... past all those faces. Almost every one of them was smiling for the camera. A few of the foals looked impatient to get away or pouted and looked away defiantly. Some of the newborns who didn't know any better looked away, their attention perhaps fixated on a shiny object out of view. You couldn’t be sure. There were faces of holiday celebrations- ponies in Hearth's Warming sweaters and fluffy caps, in costumes for Nightmare Night. Faces from birthday parties, where the low lighting, candles, and camera flash made their eyes glow red. Faces of family members dressed in thick coats for fall and winter or frolicking freely, gaily in spring and summer. Faces with family pets hugged close, of parents playing with beady-eyed newborns. Faces from amusement park rides, with ponies screaming for joy or shutting their eyes tight. Faces that were faded, faces that were tarnished. Faces that were torn, faces that were soggy. Just... so many faces. Each of them was bathed in the soft, subtle, pulsing glow of the candlelight that cast shadows over their features as if they were right there and you could just reach out and touch them. They were close, close like so.

He reached out with a shaky hoof, as if to stroke down an unseen cheek. He let it fall, biting his lip.

Some people left flowers, stuffed animals, jewelry, drawings. Oh my Goddesses, the drawings... sometimes they were just... just so childish... oh my Goddesses...

There were just so many... so many... it was unfathomable. There weren't hundreds anymore. Thousands, it must have been thousands. Tens of thousands. Many of them were already crowded up close, sometimes overlapping just barely. So many. Just... so many. What would get to you most was that not all of them were photographs. Some of them had been drawn or painted. Some people didn't... they didn't even have photographs. They had to remember those faces, all of those faces. You had to, just had to imagine them struggling, just trying to remember what they looked like to draw them down... and Manehattan wasn't the only city holding this procession.

Hours, you must have been walking for hours by now. You finally reached the end, and there were still so many crowded, happy, young, old, proud, sly, smiling faces. You would reach the end, and you... you didn't know what would happen next. You... you thought, you... you saw what was going on. You just... just couldn't bring myself to believe it was happening. You... just... they...

They ran out of space and were putting pictures on the other side of the wall...

The minutes ticked by as his sobs died down. When he spoke again, it was softly, quietly, gently, with hushed deference.

Nobody spoke. It wasn't just that it would have been utterly, wholly disrespectful to the innumerable dead, but there wasn't anything to say. There was nothing to be said. The pictures, the faces... they spoke all the thousands, millions of words that needed to be spoken. Only hushed sobs filled the air.

Father and I helped steady Mother as she stood on her hindlegs to put her pictures up. The last one she put onto the Wall was that of her sister and her together. She drew it close to her muzzle and gave it a tearful kiss before placing it against the cold surface. She settled back down and set down her candle, laying out an offering of a beautiful wreath of spring flowers. She pulled slowly away, looked up to those faces of her family, and bowed. Her stony façade crumbled as she shuddered with sobs. Father was next. I supported him and his polio-stricken hindleg as he stood up to place... to place a charcoal brush painting of his family.

Father wasn't an artist, but it was incredibly beautiful and incredibly detailed. He must have worked on it for days, even weeks. Father... he... you... Father, you had a heart of diamond, a heart of true diamond... when at last he ensured it would not fall, he stood firm back on all fours. Then he pulled out the sword and its sheath from his side and sat down on his haunches, setting it down before his candle in offering with a bow. And then we stepped back and let the others pass.

We held vigil that night, standing in the snow but bathing in the warmth of the candlelight. All those innumerable faces... all the eyes of the dead were upon us. We were on hallowed ground. So many faces...

Sometimes, when I think back hard enough and close my eyes, I find myself thinking back to those haunting faces with those haunting eyes. They were all looking at you, through you.

When at last everyone sat on the cold earth, we rose almost as one, guided by the person beside us. A group of unicorns cast a protective ward over the Wall of Faces, preserving everything for the year to come.

I don't know how many of us slept that night with the eyes of the dead upon us. But eventually, sleep came. We awoke again to gently falling snow and wandered back to the northern quarter of Manehattan, seemingly back to the very places that we slept two nights ago.

All awake. Bellies full. Bodies warm. Huddled together. Around fires. Eyes north. On platform. Beyond, we could see the flickering candlelight along the Wall of Faces- the true Northern Lights.

“May I have everyone's attention please?” the unicorn mare asked again. All quiet. “The worst is behind us now, just as it is for all of us who survived The Great Exodus. We have had our many trials and triumphs in the years since, trying to start our lives again. Many of us are leading fulfilling lives. Some of us are still struggling to get by. We must come together as a people, as Northerners, and come to the aid of our brothers and sisters. That is all we ask of each of you in the end.

“But remember, everyone, that it is with sobering knowledge that we remember that we live on carrying the spirit of the Far North inside of us by whatever flag you bear, by whatever name you called home. We learn to pay our respects to the past as we toil in the present for a brighter future. A still more glorious dawn awaits, everyone.

“Today is the day we look to the future not with dread or trepidation but with promise and ambition. We will rise again, Northerners! Celebrate today, for it is a gift- the present! Pay homage to the past, strive for a better future!

“And so I mark today, December seventeenth, as the third and final day of the Northern Lights- The Day of Hope!”

The pegasi shot skyward fast as they could, leaving a trail of colors behind them as they circled close and then scattered away, flinging up a fantastic, dazzling array of fireworks that chased away the foul mood of the night before and replaced it with wonder, noise, and light. Again the unicorn mare cast a great, fantastic aurora into the glowing skies.

We must have woken up almost all of Manehattan with that, and it was only going to grow louder. We're still Manehattaners, even if Northerners. And we have a certain reputation to keep as party animals.

With The Day of Hope, the festivities were back in full swing. Fireworks were aplenty, confetti- rather than snow- was falling down from the sky, and joining it were sounds of Thulian, Horwegian, Haysian, and Hokkaidan instruments and singing. It wasn't the same as the nightclubs or juvie-joints, but it sure was close.

Mother brewed a special sake for the occasion, having to get a whole group of ponies to help bring out the massive containers of them. Now... I was still shy of the legal drinking age, but she sneaked me, Zoleks, and Namira a bit so we could get a taste. I always thought alcohol was supposed to burn, but her sake went down clean and smooth, leaving a sweet, invigorating aftertaste.

“Itaraki mas,” Mother uttered as she finished giving us our sake. “Yoi!”

“Holy buck that was good!” Zoleks exclaimed. Even I perked right up after that, rejuvenated rigid by the taste.

“No,” she answered sternly. “Only one per person. I only have so much of my Thunder Brew Sake, and it takes a long time to ferment. I want to make sure anyone who wants a taste can have it. Besides, we can't leave you drunk with Frost, can we? Especially with how he acted with his last...”

“Given how gropey he is in bed, I could imagine,” Hummingbird said lowly with a smirk.

“H-Hey!” I stammered. “Not in public! And I wouldn't do that to you if you were drunk! I'm not like that!”

In the meantime, Father joined several other armored Hokkaidans that he met during the Changing of the Guard ceremony two days before and performed a series of war dances with them. He may have stumbled and had trouble from his shriveled hindleg and, well, not having any actual training, but to his credit, he looked like he was having a great time and made new friends that day.

Me? Hummingbird? Zoleks and Namira? We just reveled in the festivities, partying like true Manehattaners- rocking it hard. Yes, you can rock it hard to percussion, brass, string, and woodwind, folks. I was there.

Dancing and partying with them, I couldn't help but watch as Zoleks and Namira sidled up close and shared a passionate kiss. Hummingbird seemed to follow my gaze and then we met almost simultaneously. We fell into chuckles as we decided to do as the Roamans do.

The closing ceremony of the Northern Lights Festival came with no fanfare, no fireworks. With the great aurora lighting up the night sky above, only a beautiful song that united all the musicians of the Northerners was played. I can do no justice in describing it. I don’t have to.

For once, I was beat after a long day and night of partying. I was still riding on the euphoric high of the afterglow, Hummingbird and I draping a mutual foreleg over the other's shoulder as we bid farewell to my parents and Zoleks', walking with him and Namira back to their home.

“That was an incredible experience, buck,” Zoleks said as we finally reached their doorstep. He pat me on the back and then we drew into a tight hug that left us both grunting in playful, faux exertion. “Still have a whole two-and-a-half weeks left of vacation time, right?”

“Yeah, that's right,” I said with a nod. “We gotta hit clubs together again before Hummingbird and I head back. Or maybe two more times. Or three. Four. Seven. Eleven.”

The green pegasus mare at my side giggled and socked my shoulder gently. “You Manehattaners. Seriously, is partying all you do?”

“Nah, there's a balance between work n' play,” Namira said. “Maybe Frost can tell you more about it. Like my buck said, thank you for the wonderful experience. It was the most powerful one I've had in my entire life.”

“Whiiiich also means I'm tired as hay,” Zoleks laughed heartily, tucking her close. “Catch ya later, okay, Frost? You too, 'Bird! We’ll definitely be meeting up for Hearth’s Warming- count on it!”

“Take care, Zoleks,” I said with a wave. “Take care, Namira.” With that, we turned away and started home. The northern quarter was quiet and empty once more, at least for tonight. But in Manehattan, it struck me as alien as the streets of Canterlot that first night. It just felt so off. Nevertheless, I breathed out a happy sigh. “How're you holding up, Hummingbird?”

“Still awake,” she chuckled. “Damn... that musta been some really good sake to keep me up this long.”

She gave me a kiss on the cheek. “No prob. It's what I here for. Heh, even if I'm still wide-awake, I can't wait to head to bed. Long three days...”

“You know... I think I know what I want to do in life,” I said. “I really think I want to be a historian, or maybe even an equinpologist.” I looked at her as we walked. “I mean, I have the eidetic memory, and now I have the best opportunity to document Northerner culture on a yearly basis. I think I’m genuinely interested in it”

She smiled back at me. “Well hey, if that's what you want to do, then go for it.”

I froze, as did Hummingbird. My heart skipped a beat as I heard that voice, so full of hate and malice, muffled as if speaking around something. I slowly turned around to face...

I froze at the sight of that. My mind just seized up. I'd never in my life seen an actual gun up close. I didn't know what to do. Everything just shut down. I only registered Hummingbird pulling closer to me.

“Ohhhh, Hokkaido's got a new squeeze!” the dusty pegasus chuckled. His eyes were bloodshot, and he smiled this vile smile around the mouthgrip. “Or what was it they call you nowaday? Frost, right? What, did you think you could just waltz on back to Manehattan without me knowing? You fucking... started a song right out of Manehattan Grand Terminal for fuck's sake! You've got some balls, buck! Tiny balls, but you got some balls!”

The vice-grip around my mind wrenched open. “Hummingbird,” I finally spoke- slowly, clearly, “you need to go. Fly far and fast away from here.”

“Ah-ah-ah!” Pick snapped the gun up at her, causing her to gasp. “Neither of you are going anywhere. Neither of you are gonna shout. You’re staying put right here.” He then let out a low, evil laugh. “Seriously, buck? You didn't tell her about me? What else have you been leaving out, huh? The Mumei? Don't think I don't know about you and your little 'house-cleaning' mission, bitch. You completely eradicated my gang! There’s nothing left, not even in the newsprint!”

“Pick, why don't we all just calm down?” I asked calmly. Right words, right way. Right words, right way. Right, do it right. Do it right. “You're angry at me. I understand that.”

“No you don't!” he growled. “You took everything from me! Everything! The gang, The Lazy Dog, fucking Song Spinner! Yeah, she fucking left me, and it's all your fucking fault too! So don't you use your words with me! I ain't listening!”

“I said I ain't listening!” Pick tightened his grip on the gun and I froze into silence once more. “You're not talking your way out of this, you hear?!” He seethed with anger as he stepped closer. “Not a single fucking word! Now... I'm gonna take everything away from you...”

Think... come on, think! I tried to think of a way out, but my mind just froze the longer I stared at that gun. There had to be a way out. There had to be!

Adrenaline is a very, very powerful thing. It can make you push your body past your limits and achieve what was previously impossible. I ignored the feeling of something stinging at my chest as I plowed into Pick Pack, pinning him to the ground, slugging his face left, right, left, right, left-

I froze yet again to the sound of Hummingbird's voice. She was tugging on my shoulder, eyes full of fright. I wavered for just a moment and then blacked out.

Hummingbird and I were seated on the curb along with a pair of police officers. Alden, Vani's boyfriend, was one of them. Pick Pack was unconscious but cuffed and stowed in the back of a police wagon. A few concerned neighbors were poking out of their homes to look. Mother, Father, Zoleks, and Namira were all there.

“Yep, spray-painted to look like an actual gun,” the griffin answered with a nod. Then he huffed, “You're one lucky son of a bitch, you know that, Frost?” He nodded toward the wagon. “His dad’s on the registered gun owner's list. He's also high as fuck right now. You’re damn lucky he didn’t remember to get it.”

“Well I'm thanking her that you're safe, Frost,” Mother said, looking relieved.

“Yeah, he's just a bit shaken up is all.” Alden nodded. “At most, he'll just bruise a little. Pick's the one in rougher shape. He'll pull through though. Nothing serious.”

“Criminal and civil, maybe. Criminal if you sue the guy, civil if he counter-sues you for use of excessive force. Might be self-defense, but still. I can hook you up with a good attorney, though. You seem like a nice guy. Besides, you only knocked him out. Didn't even break his snout.”

For once, I was thanking Celestia that I was so weak. And that Pick was probably so dumb as a rock he'd forget he'd be able to counter-sue.

Alden nodded. “Yep. You're free to go. You'll proooobably be getting a court-order in the mail soon, though. Just be ready for that. No more funny business until then, okay?”

“Lemme go with you this time.” Zoleks patting me on your back. “Can't let any of this stuff happen again.”

“Look, I doubt anything else is going to happen tonight. It's okay. Go home and rest.”

“Come,” Father spoke, nodding to both of us. “Let's head back home and let everyone head back to sleep.”

As we started back, Hummingbird looked at me. Double dammit. “I'm gonna have to explain all this, aren't I?”

Quest perk added: The Way- (Northerner Only) Your path is dictated by your actions. What do they say about you? You can no longer choose your perks. Instead, they are awarded to you based on your actions and Karma. Be warned- this means that you can get penalized for more extreme choices!
Perk added: Making History- You've chosen the life of a historian and equinpologist. Learning certain historical facts grants you unique dialogue options in situations where they might be called upon. You also gain a flat +5% boost to Speech rolls against people whose languages you take the time to study.

Fallout: Equestria- The Last Sentinel

by Adder1

Reflection Ten: Shining Bright