Appleoosa, Equestria. July, 1252.
Before Screwball stood a white Earth pony with tightly curled purple hair.
“Mama,” the lavender pony mouthed wordlessly, before finding her voice. “Is it you?”
“Topsy Turvy,” Celestia replied, her voice heartbroken. “Why are you killing ponies? Why are you doing this? Is this how you were raised?”
“Mama,” Screwball whimpered. “You...you...”
“Topsy,” Celestia repeated mournfully. “What are you doing?”
“You...but...you died, mama. You're dead.”
“Topsy, talk to me. What are you doing?”
“You're dead. This...is a trick.” Her voice grew angry. “You're dead and this is a trick. I don't like tricks. On.” The pebble on her little green hat flashed white, and Screwball felt her mind closing. Celestia, too, felt her horn growing numb—their connection to magic had been severed. Zebra alchemy was not magic, however. Not in the same sense. Despite the Occultation, Zecora's shape-change potion maintained its effect.
“This isn't a magic trick, sweetie. Now talk to me. What are you doing?”
Screwball thought a bit, biting her lower lip. She furrowed her brow, then gave up. “...I'm not sure what I'm doing. I'm never sure what I'm doing, mama. But I need to kill Celestia.”
“Why, honey? I love you.”
“I know you do,” Screwball said, almost as if to reassure the pony in front of her. “But Celestia is bad.”
“How can she be bad? She took care of you for so long.”
“She didn't, mama! She said she would but then she put me in the school with the smart foals probably so everypony could make fun of me for being stupid. And she was always too busy to play with me when I was sad. Always! I was just her pet stupid pony!”
“That isn't true, Topsy. I watched you every day. I watched you every single day.”
“You were dead, mama, you couldn't--”
“I did watch you, precious girl. I saw you were very good friends with the little bright-yellow unicorn colt. You had lunch with him every day, in fact. What was his name again, Topsy?”
“Sun Dazzle,” she squealed in happiness, before her face clouded over again. “...so you saw...but...he just liked me because I made him feel smart.”
“He liked you because you were funny, and in a good way. You saw many things other ponies couldn't see. Real things. Funny things. You were always a clever foal. Never a stupid one.”
“But...”
“You were a clever foal and Celestia loves you for it.”
The purple pony shook her head, mouthing indistinct, silent words. She rubbed her face with a dusty hoof.
---
Borderlands, Equestria.
Derpy Hooves walked through the sparse forest, Big Macintosh by her side. The day was warm and breezy; the sun warmed their skin and the wind blew gently through their fur.
“That's a pretty bird!” Derpy pointed at a little bluebird in a tree. “Haven't seen one of those in a while. Wonder what he sounds like when he sings?”
“Funny 'bout that,” Mac said. “The birds aren't sayin' a whole lot. I mean, they chirp, but not hardly like they did back home. Back when we took care of 'em.”
“Well, ponies haven't been taking care of them. Maybe they're waiting for someone to tell them what to say,” Derpy said.
“Maybe they prefer the quiet,” he said, shaking his head. “Sometime you don't want some pony tellin' you what you need to be sayin'.”
“If they didn't like it when we led them, they could have left,” she countered.
“Sometimes ya stay even when ya don't like it,” he said bitterly. Because ya have to.”
“We're talking about birds, Mac,” she said, smiling sadly. “Birds.”
“You're never just talkin' about birds. Not any more you ain't.”
“...Mac, I'm still a pony. Sometimes I do want to talk about birds.”
“But you're thinking 'bout the war. You're thinkin' it just the same.”
“Always,” she agreed. “That doesn't mean I don't want to talk about birds.”
“Are you ever gonna stop thinkin' 'bout it? Ever? I ain't ridin' you. I wanna know. Is the war all you are anymore?”
“Mac! I was trying to talk about birds, and you started talking about the war! I almost never talk about the war on our walks. You can't bring it up and then get mad at me for thinking about it. That's not fair. I don't play games like that with you.”
“It ain't a game, Derpy. I'm worried 'bout you. That you're gonna do somethin' real stupid.”
Derpy exhaled, blowing every bit of air she could out of her lungs. Then she breathed in deeply, relishing the grass-and-wildflower-perfumed breeze, and then out again. And then she turned to him again.
“That's what I'm worried about, too,” she said at last. “That I might do—or not do—something stupid. But let's not talk about it now. I'll call a council this evening. We can lay out all the information and discuss it then.”
“You don't need piles o' maps to know what the right thing is.”
“I said we'll talk about it later.”
“A'right,” he said begrudgingly. “Later.”
---
Appleoosa, Equestria.
“But--” Screwball stammered. “But Celestia thought I was--”
“--Celestia brought you in because she thought you were delightful,” the princess said gently. “Just like your mama did. Just like everypony who ever met you did.”
“No. She thought--”
“--Celestia loved you very dearly. She still does.”
Screwball searched for something to say. “But...but...she...Celestia...killed daddy.”
“No. Your daddy died protecting your mama. It was very brave, and very sad.”
“No. Celestia killed him. She turned him into stone.”
“She imprisoned Discord in stone, Topsy. Discord was not your daddy. He hurt you very badly.”
“No he didn't! He made me smart. He made me strong. He made--”
“--he made you miserable. Your mama only wanted you to be happy...and I only wanted you to be happy.”
“She didn't! Daddy made me what I am. Celestia wanted to keep me as a dumb little pet. Daddy said so.”
“Topsy. Remember Celestia? What she looked like?”
“Yes,” Screwball said impatiently.
“Do you remember lying by the fire with her, on Hearths' Warming Eve? With a cup of cocoa with the little pink marshmallows?” Celestia's voice had been soft. It softened further, still.
Screwball was silent. Her breathing grew heavier, and more ragged.
“Do you remember how Celestia would stroke your curly hair with her hoof, and would say it was beautiful? Do you remember how you said the Hearth's Warming tree was silly because trees are from the forest and the forest is cold and full of monsters? And how we laughed? Do you remember that, Topsy?”
Screwball gazed at her hooves. Celestia saw a tear run down her snout and fall into the dust. And then Screwball raised her head, her face twisted in fury.
---
Borderlands, Equestria.
Five ponies sat in a circle around a map, a ring of lanterns providing a steady glow. Derpy Hooves, wearing her cape and eyepatch, sat facing the tent flap. To her left was Brig. Gen. Bon Bon, head of the infantry of the Army of Northern Equestria. By Bon Bon was Brig. Gen. April Showers of Bridleshire, who had been with the army since shortly after their first engagement, and who was now head of cavalry. To her left was Brig. Gen. High Roller of Canterlot, a veteran of the New Equestrian Army and chief of artillery. Completing the circle, and to the right of Derpy Hooves, was Big Macintosh. Nopony was certain of his rank, or if he even had a rank any more—he seemed to show up everywhere doing everything—but everypony accorded him all the respect they did the General herself. Off to the side, Davenport scrawled notes, as he did during every meeting.
Derpy Hooves spoke first. “Our scouts are telling us that the gryphons are retreating to the north. They're going for a little-used pass. It'll be a dangerous trip for them, so it looks like they'd rather face the certainty that many of them will die on the slopes than risk another battle with us. Congratulations, ponies. It seems you're more frightening than death itself.”
Derpy spoke with a faint but noticeable tone of pride. The others seemed more unsettled than anything else.
“It's not over, though,” she continued. “Not in the slightest. The gryphons are mobilizing another army, and have been for the last few weeks. It won't be ready to fight any time soon, but it will be ready soon enough, and when it is we'll have to fight this war all over again. Our first priority, of course, is to ensure the remnants of the current invasion cannot assist the next. Bon Bon, I want your infantry to harass and, if possible, destroy the retreating Gryphonic forces.”
“I think...it might be that a pegasus would be better suited t'that one, General,” she said respectfully.
“High winds, cold temperatures, low visibility, and jagged rocks aren't a recipe for aerial success. Send your best infantry. The Ponyville Guards would probably be our best bet. Think creatively; I've given Major Almond of the Royal Artillerists a few suggestions as to how you and he might be able to use Gryphonic cannon powder for this mission. If you need a few pegasus or unicorn ponies for your plans, let me know, but keep in mind the limitations of the other races.”
“Now,” she said decisively. “That's the first order of business. The second is what we do next. To be blunt: the second is whether we invade Gryphonia and how we do it.”
Bon Bon nodded in assent. April Showers nodded, though she seemed a bit unnerved by the topic. High Roller winced. Big Macintosh remained expressionless.
Derpy waited. Nopony said anything. “Arguments in favor are obvious: They have attacked us. They are very likely preparing to attack again. And given the insanity of their king, they will, most likely, continue to make war on us until either we or they are dead. Therefore we must end this war by ending his reign. What are the arguments against?”
There was silence.
“Are there any arguments against?”
Bon Bon glared at High Roller, as if she were daring him to speak. High Roller said nothing.
“Anypony?”
Big Macintosh cleared his throat.
---
Appleoosa, Equestria.
“I do remember,” Screwball said, her voice cold and sharp. “I remember very, very clearly. My mama was dead then. And I was happy that day but that night I was sad because I wanted my mama to be there laughing with me by the fire. And she couldn't, because my mama died and when ponies die they die forever. And that day I was happy but that night I realized no matter how happy I was I would always miss my mama forever, because when ponies die they stay dead forever. No. You aren't my mama. My mama is dead.”
“Topsy,” Celestia said. “Pay attention to me.”
“No. You look like my mama and sound like her and smell like her but you can't be her because she's dead. And when a pony dies they don't come back. Ever. Not even my mama. Not even when I try to make her. And if Screwball can't do it that means Discord can't do it, and if daddy can't do it then nopony can. Either you're a liar or I'm crazy again but the pebble turned off the magic so I'm not crazy so you're a liar.”
Celestia readied a spell in her mind.
“So, liar pony, I'm going to see what you really are. Stand still. Cracked.”
In an instant, the pebble flashed, and Screwball felt her magic flooding back. She began to probe the mind of the pony in front of her. Immediately she felt a surge of light flooding her senses. She stumbled backwards. First in surprise. Then in awe.
Before her shone Celestia, hovering midair, radiating the brilliance and the power of the Sun, emanating the splendor of a thousand years of unquestioned and unquestionable rule. Golden light poured from her; the blue skies behind her were a clouded midnight by comparison. Her magnificence was all-consuming; her radiance was all-encompassing. She was the font of a millennium of power; she was the object of a millennium of worship. She was undimmed by time, or by tears, or by scorn. She shone with holiness; she shone as a goddess inherently and perpetually glorious. She was the pure hope of ponykind, the infinite heat of the cosmos, the undaunted strength of the ages. She was beautiful. She was terrifying. She was irresistible.
Screwball fell to her knees, grimacing. She stayed there, fighting herself, for some seconds, overwhelmed with the humbling majesty of the Princess. She shuddered in terror. She fought to gain control of her mind. She could scarcely think.
“TOPSY TURVY,” Celestia shouted, her voice crashing across the desert plains like a thunderstorm. “END THIS NOW. REJECT YOUR CORRUPTION. EMBRACE YOUR TRUE SELF. AND RETURN TO MY PEACE.”
Off, a giggling bell chimed in Celestia's head.
---
Borderlands, Equestria.
The other four turned to look at Big Macintosh. He often sat in on the meetings; he often followed the General wherever she went. Yet he rarely spoke. And he had never contradicted her in public.
“I signed up for one reason,” Big Macintosh said. “One. Reason. I signed up to protect my home. Because a pony's home deserves protectin'. But I ain't in it for revenge.”
“It ain't revenge,” Bon Bon shouted, anger in her voice. “Didn't y'hear her? Hock, doncha have eyes of y'own? This war i'nnt gonna end till we end it, and I ain't of a mind to sit an' wait for 'em to come'n take anoddah swing at us. 'at right, High Rollah?”
“Calm down, Bon Bon,” High Roller said in his impeccable Canterlot accent, “I can scarcely understand you when you get agitated.”
“Oh fer th'lovea—getta load 'a this pony, poppin' off like he's somepony. Newsflash, idiot—me and the General were winnin' battles while you was still tryin' to figgir out what color hoof polish you'n y'boyfriend were gonna wear to th' Let's-All-Surrender Ball.”
“Bon Bon,” Derpy said quietly. “That's more than enough. High Roller is a general of equal rank and you will respect him as such.”
“See what I must put up with?” High Roller asked, putting on a show of being hurt. “The nerve of some ponies, and how they treat others! It's appalling, is it not?”
“I didn't say I disagreed with her. Now,” she said, turning her attention to the stallion to her right. “Mac. This isn't about revenge. You know it isn't. I've killed only three gryphons in retribution during this entire war, and that was because they had kidnapped your sister. Everything else I have done has been done out of necessity. This is no different.”
“It ain't necessary. You don't walk into a pony's home and kick 'em in the teeth because you think they might pick a fight with you later. That ain't right no matter who you are, and it ain't right even if they picked a fight with you yesterday. All they deserve for pickin' one fight is getting' one lickin'.”
“It's not about 'deserve,' Mac. Nopony gets what they deserve in war. Tell me, how many wars has Gryphonia lost?”
There was silence.
“That's a question for everypony. High Roller? I'm certain you know.”
“Eight, General,” he said, though he looked at Bon Bon as he said it.
“Good. Do you know how many losses were followed by another war within a decade?”
“Of course I do. A unicorn officer can be expected to know military history.” He let the remark hang until the moment before Derpy would have said something. “Eight.”
“Good. How many did they win? Just tell me, no gloating.”
“Six.”
“How many of the two defeats led to a third war?”
“Both of them did.”
“So have they ever lost a war and then committed to peace?”
“...no.”
Derpy said nothing. Neither did anypony else. Everypony looked at Big Macintosh. He, too, said nothing.
“If we let their kingdom live to fight, we will fight them again,” she said quietly.
“Then let 'em come,” Macintosh spat, his hooves crossed. “I'll defend my home a hundred times, but I won't attack theirs.”
“I don't care what you won't do. This discussion is about the army.”
“Like it always is, huh? Never about what we want. About what I want. About what's best for us. Always about how you can kill gryphons better.”
Derpy felt her cheeks flush with shame, and with anger.
---
Appleoosa, Equestria.
It wasn't very nice of you to lie to me about my mama. I knew you were bad. Screwball, no longer kneeling, was now floating in front of the Princess, her eyes swirling spirals, her mouth again fixed in its little grin. If you want me to end it I can ha ha ha ha ha. I think first we need to get rid of that horn and those wings. Then you can be a stupid ugly little Earth pony like me ha ha ha. The thoughts, as long as they were, came into Celestia's mind as one single chime of a bell. Screwball shut her eyes.
Canterlot, Celestia thought back, then disappeared in a flash of light.
Screwball opened her eyes. In front of her was nothing but sand and sky and the scattered buildings of Appleoosa. “Cracked,” she whispered.
Her pebble glowed again, and she returned to the ground, her mind hers again. Her knees wobbled. The memory of the last few minutes flooded into her senses. She shook with holy fear. And then she shook with hatred. And she shrieked. She shrieked long and loud. She shrieked with anger and frustration and hatred. She shrieked until her eyes were red with blood. She shrieked until her voice was raw. She shrieked, as the confused and terrified inhabitants of Appleoosa looked on.
And then, her throat torn and raw, she stopped. She looked around, then saw a pony peering through a window. She exploded in a mist of blood—a raw and uncreative kill, fueled only by rage. It didn't make Screwball feel better. It was too easy. She saw another pony. He, too, exploded, exactly as she imagined.. Still too easy. She growled, then burst a building into shards and splinters. And then another. And then five. And then ten. And then half the town. And then she formed the wreckage into an enormous whip, and the whip swung around her body, tearing through buildings and ponies and trees and rocks with equal ease. And she shut her eyes, and shuddered with anger, and a shockwave exploded from her body, disintegrating the whip and breaking rocks into sand and turning the bodies of ponies into pulp. And the desert around her burst into flames, and was scoured by thousands of bolts of lightning, and then fell silent and still.
And she stumbled forward, and she fell to the ground, and she lay in the bloodied, charred dust where the town had been, and she cried.
---
Borderlands, Equestria.
Derpy stood, her eye narrowed to an angry slit. “Macintosh. Apple. You are an officer in the Army of Northern Equestria under commission of Princess Celestia, and have sworn an oath both to her and her appointed officers. No, I do not care about what you want, nor should I care, nor should you care. We are at war and our one and in fact only concern is the welfare of Equestria. Other feelings are irrelevant.”
Big Macintosh stood as well, his frame seemingly filling the tent. The others backed away from the argument in both fear and discomfort. “You don't even have feelings any more. You're just anger and plottin' is all you are.”
“We all have feelings, Mac! All of us! Bon Bon does. April Showers does! Even that little prissy High Roller does!” They all shrank down at the mention of their names, for fear she'd yell at them next. She didn't. “But we can put them aside because that's what leadership is! Leadership isn't about making yourself feel good. Hell, anypony can make themselves feel good. A foal does that! You need to stop being a foal, Mac.”
He clenched his teeth, then growled. “So...why is it exactly you want ta continue this war, Derpy?
“I don't, Mac, I want to end it.”
“No you don't. Invadin' is makin' it longer. Why do you wanna invade?”
“Because they'll invade again if we don't. Because the Gryphon King is dangerous. Because even if they sign a peace we won't be safe. Because their entire country and way of life are oppressive. Because we can win if we do it, and we'll never have a better chance. Because we owe it to--”
“--that's way too many reasons, Derpy. You know what I learned about reasons? I'm sure I told ya. Ponies only ever have one reason for what they do. You can have things that make it a good idea, and things that make it a bad idea, but they don't do it because of those. They do it for one reason. And if a pony points to a bunch of things? It's cause they don't wanna talk about the real reason. So what's your one reason, Derpy? Is it--”
“--it's because I want to--
“--is it because you can't bear the thought of it all bein' over? That you got no clue what you are except the queen of this murder machine, and once it stops murderin' you ain't got nothin' left? That it? You're gonna kill hundreds of thousands of livin' souls so you don' have to admit you're just a sad little pony who ain't secure in herself enough to make real friends?” He was shouting by this point, his self control having abandoned him entirely. “That's buckin' it, huh? You're gonna tear an entire damned country to pieces—maybe two of 'em—so you can go on livin' this childhood beatin'-up-the-bullies fantasy? Is that it, Derpy? Or maybe I should say Bright Eyes? Or Ditzy Doo or Gray Mare or whatever the hell you are?”
He stopped, breathing heavily. He looked at Derpy, then immediately looked away in regret. Her face was now tear-stained.
“Mac,” she whispered. “You are dismissed. From the army. You may take your sister and her friends with you. Goodbye.”
“I—I didn't—” he stammered.
“You just did, yes. And any other pony would be thrown in prison or worse for that. I'm letting you leave now, free and clean, because I love you. So leave. Please. And don't say anything else.”
She turned to the others. She didn't wipe her face clean. “I apologize for his behavior,” she said in a broken voice. “As we were saying.”
---
Canterlot, Equestria.
“Did it work, sister?” Luna asked hopefully.
“No,” Celestia half-whispered. “Not at all. She's going to come.”
“So she is in Appleoosa now. That would mean, then, that she will be here in...”
“Maybe a month. Probably less. If she figures some things out, then much, much less.”
“Talking did not work,” Luna said, almost to herself. “Perhaps you will have better luck next time?”
“No, it didn't work. And it won't work. I finally let her see me, and she tried to kill me as soon as she physically could.”
“Most likely because you had lied to her. I told you the plan was foolish, sister. You should have presented yourself honestly.”
“No, Luna. She would have killed me instantly. That's all she wants—to kill me. And if I had used Zecora's potion to transform into some other pony? No, no. She kills most ponies who challenge her or obstruct her. This way was our only chance.”
“You do not know that.”
“It's too late now; we can't very well try it again,” Celestia said, then sighed. “I'm not sure it's even worth fighting her. I showed her my full presence, unrestrained, channeling the Sun—and she shrugged it off like it was nothing. She can kill with a thought, and she can turn off her mind and become an angry ball of magic. Oh, and she can turn off magic if she wants to, too. How can we fight that?”
“I've thought a bit more about your plan. The other one. With the Elements.”
“Do you think it will work?”
“Almost certainly not.”
“I know. But is it worth the risk?”
“Almost certainly not.”
“Well,” Celestia said. “You should go talk to them, then.”
“Me, sister? Twilight idolizes you beyond reason. She would appreciate hearing from you again.”
“That's why you will do it,” Celestia said sadly. “If you and I live, it will not be goodbye. If you and I die, she must learn self-reliance and excessive sentimentality will not assist with that. Besides. I do not want her last memory of me to be...to be me meekly accepting an inevitable death. I do accept that I may die, and I will fight, but she needs a more...vigorous image to base herself on. I want her to remember me as she does now—leaving sentiment aside to go fight for my life and my land.”
“Are you certain that is wise, sister? She draws her strength from sentiment.”
“...no. You're right. It isn't wise.”
“Then why...”
“Because I don't want to say goodbye, Luna. I don't want to put her through that.”
“You should. It will be good for her.”
“...I know.”
---
Borderlands, Equestria
High Roller spoke cautiously, trying to avoid looking at Derpy's heartbroken face. “The thing is, General, we've demonstrated that it is very difficult to maintain an invasion force in the face of popular resistance.”
“I'm going to free the lions,” she muttered. “Free all of them. They'll fight for us.”
“But,” he said, “that would require enormous changes to their civil society. Can we oversee that?”
“Not our problem.” She leaned her head against a hoof. “They wanted to hold slaves? They made that bed. They get to lie in it. We'll set up a government. They can decide whether they want to make it work.”
“Is that responsible?”
“Who cares? Our responsibility isn't to gryphons. It's to ponies.”
He stopped. She stared straight ahead, into empty space.
“General,” High Roller said gingerly, “I worry that you are not in a frame of mind to give these affairs the attention they deserve.”
“I've thought through this a hundred times, Roller. I'm not in the mood to pretty it up now, no. But it's what we have to do.”
“It seems...it seems like quite a chance.”
“It isn't,” she said quietly. “I've got information from the gryphons suggesting I'm destined to win, and Field Marshal Twilight Sparkle corroborating the validity of their source. I'll go over it with you later, if you're curious. But I'm sure about this, both on its merits and because of the magic-destiny angle.”
“So...” April Showers said. “Are we actually going to do this? As in...are we going to give the orders today? We're committing? Just like that? We're all going? Shouldn't we put it to a vote or something?”
Derpy cradled her head in her hooves, then spoke without looking at them. “Yes. Vote now. Mac cast his already. Feel free to cast the same kind of vote if you like. No punishments. No repercussions. Anyone who doesn't want to come with me, go home and be proud of what you've done for your country. Anyone who wants to come with me, stay and end this for good. And yeah, High Roller. I'll give the soldiers the same chance. I guarantee you nopony leaves.”
“Well I'm stayin',” Bon Bon said. “'Til I die or the Gryphon King does.”
“I trust you, General,” April Showers said. “To the end.”
“I trust you also,” High Roller said. “I have enormous reservations, but you have made mockeries of my doubts so many times in the past...well...I cannot help but override them now.”
“I'm glad to hear that,” Derpy said, looking up. She looked anything but glad.
---
Canterlot, Equestria.
The throne room was dark; the few torches on the wall did little to illuminate such a cavernous space. Twilight Sparkle walked nervously up to the princess, as she had so many times before.
“You're back,” Twilight said uncertainly.
“I am.”
“Where did you go?”
“I went to talk to Screwball. It did not go as well as I had hoped.”
“But she didn't kill you!”
“She tried. I fled. I will not flee from here.”
“...oh,” Twilight said. It was a surprisingly potent 'oh.'
“Twilight, Luna is talking to your friends now. She'll say much the same thing I am about to say, but I thought you deserved to have some time alone with me before...before you left.”
“What is she saying to them?”
“She's saying that your army needs to leave—to leave and go north.”
“But we're hardly—“
“—I know,” Celestia said, her voice as reassuring as a thousand years of practice could make it. However, your mailmare friend is likely going to be approaching a decision point very, very soon. And what she decides to do will shape the future of Equestria and Gryphonia forevermore. You six need to be there to assist her, both in making the decision and in riding out the consequences. She will need what soldiers you have. And more than that, she will need you six.”
“Oh. I...I understand, Princess.”
“I know you do,” Celestia smiled. “You were always the cleverest of my students.”
Twilight shut her eyes as tight as she could. “Princess, please tell me you aren't going to die. I don't want to say goodbye again. I don't want to ever say goodbye.”
“Twilight Sparkle, I can tell you that I have no intention of dying--and I can tell you that you are more than capable of doing far more for me than you think you can.”
“But I don't want to replace you! I want to be your student! I want to read with you and talk about what we read and write about what I read and write about what I've learned and new magic I've researched and—and I want to learn from you and I want you to tell me I'm a good student! I don't want to be a princess!”
“Twilight, if I were to die...you would not be replacing me. Nopony can replace another pony. I have had many favorites throughout the centuries, and not one has replaced another. My tutelage was the cradle of your mind. But it is unhealthy to remain in the cradle forever.”
“I—oh, I know, I know” Twilight said, tossing her head as she spoke, “oh, I've said it to myself a hundred times. But it doesn't matter. It never matters. It's not about what's good for me or you or anypony else. I don't care about that. It's not about that stuff!”
“What is it about, then?”
“I...” she stopped. “I love you,” Twilight whispered. “And I don't want to be alone.”
“You have your friends. You love them, too. And they will always be with you.”
“I know. I do love them. But you're special to me.”
“I am. And I love you too, Twilight. You are special to me, too.”
“Really,” Twilight said, a fillyish smile on her face. “Am I really special?”
“You are the most special student I've ever had.”
Twilight smiled broader, tears in her eyes. “Could you tell me that again?”
“You are the most special student I've ever had.”
“Again? And tell me you love me?”
“Twilight, I will always love you. And you are very, very special.”
Twilight hugged Celestia tightly, relishing the feeling of the Princess' fur against her nose.
---
Far North of Canterlot, Equestria.
One week later.
Applejack sat in her tent, unenthusiastically eating a peach. It was far too soft, and far too sweet, and far too...too wet. But it was fruit, and more importantly it was in her hooves, so she wouldn't complain too much.
A red nose poked though the tent. “They told me you were in here,” a familiar voice said.
“Mac,” she said quietly, then shouted. “Big Macintosh? What the hay are you doin' here?”
“Thought I'd pay my little sister a visit. Mind if I come in? Apple Bloom wants ta see you, too?”
“Why the heck are you even askin'? C'mon in! All of you!”
The enormous red stallion came slowly into the tent, as Apple Bloom weaved around his legs. The filly then saw Applejack, froze in disbelief, then grinned, and ran up to hug her sister.
“Aw, my goodness, look at you two! Oh, you're so big Apple Bloom, and Mac, you...you...wait. Why are you two here? Weren't you up with the army up north? What happened?”
“Er, well,” Big Macintosh began uneasily. "It ain't exactly easy to explain..."
"Then explain it," Applejack said. "I got a couple hours before I gotta be anywhere."
"Well," he began, then trailed off.
Applejack raised an eyebrow.