//------------------------------// // Generosity // Story: Mortal // by Benman //------------------------------// Sunstone looked up as Twilight Sparkle entered the sterile hospital room. She was wearing a somber black gown; she must have come straight from the funeral. Twilight’s eyes went immediately to the bed where Rarity lay unconscious. “How is she?” she asked softly. “Better,” said Sunstone. “The doctors don’t think she’ll walk again, but the pain is less than it was.” He paused. “And Miss Fluttershy?” “It’s done.” Her voice was firm. “I need to talk to your mother. Is it okay to wake her up?” “I don’t think you’d be able to. She just took her medicine, so she’ll be out of it for a while.” Sunstone was thankful for that. Rarity’s hip was improving, it was true, but her joints had been bad enough before the fall. Now, the medicine was the only thing keeping her pain bearable. “Oh.” Twilight hesitated. “Well… would you tell her goodbye for me? I’m going to Canterlot for a while. A long while.” “Princess business?” “Not really. I just… Ponyville’s getting too complicated. I need a little distance.” “Oh. Huh.” Sunstone wasn’t sure what to make of that. Mom would be disappointed, for sure. “Well, I’ll tell her you stopped by.” “Thanks. I should get going.” Twilight turned to go, paused, looked back. “Sunstone? If I could keep your mom from dying, do you think it would be the right thing to do?” Twilight was trying far too hard to keep her voice neutral, Sunstone noticed, and she wasn’t meeting his eyes. “That’s not hypothetical,” he said quietly, “is it?” “Not entirely, no.” Sunstone looked at Rarity’s sleeping body. She had lost so much weight that her outline was almost lost among the blankets. She looked peaceful, as she so seldom did. He sighed. “I don’t want her to die, but that’s selfishness.” His voice was soft and steady. “Her time is almost done. Keeping her around like this would be cruel. Letting her go is the right thing for her, no matter how much it hurts.” “Okay. Right. You’re a good pony.” Twilight swallowed. “You’re a good son. Tell her I love her, okay?” Sunstone nodded. “I should get going,” Twilight said again. She hurried out. Macintosh had watched the farmhouse grow as generations passed. There were enough annexes, wings, and outbuildings that the original structure was almost hidden from outside view. Despite the additions, most of which Macintosh had helped build with his own hooves, the house was always crowded. Children and grandchildren, both his own and Apple Bloom’s, slept two and three to a room. It was impossible to go down a flight of stairs without bumping into a familiar face or three. Tonight it was the loneliest place in the world. Macintosh shifted in his bed. It was too much space for just one pony. He had been lying there for hours, alone with Fluttershy’s absence. Gray starlight outlined the clock at his bedside. Three o’clock. There was a noise from the balcony. Apple Bloom had built it for Fluttershy when she first moved in so that the pegasus could come and go by air. He had heard the thump of his wife landing there hundreds of times. A moment passed before he realized this was not—could not be—her. Still, Macintosh could hear small movements. Somepony was definitely out there. He forced himself upright and opened the door. Beyond, Rainbow Dash turned away from the sky to look at him in surprise. Age and the colorless light of the stars bleached her mane a dull gray. He nodded a greeting, leaving his questions unspoken. Macintosh had never seen the point in saying the obvious. Ponies used so many words to say so little, but the important things usually couldn’t be spoken with words. Rainbow Dash blinked. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. He stepped onto the balcony beside her and sat. After a moment, Rainbow followed suit. The stars hung above them like ashes. He rested his head on her shoulder. She wrapped her wing around his back. They leaned into each other, sharing their warmth and their pain. Afterwards, Macintosh couldn’t say how long they sat like that before he fell asleep. Twilight Sparkle’s eyes followed the steady motion of her grandfather clock’s pendulum. She sat unmoving on the polished granite floor of her chambers in the palace. According to the clock, she had been here for two hours, sixteen minutes, and nine seconds. Moving the clock here from her home in Ponyville, where it had rested since she inherited it from her mother, had been painful. Thanks to her nearly limitless magical power, it had taken her only moments to transport, but the emotional toll was greater. It was an admission that her home was now in Canterlot, not Ponyville. The ties that bound her there were being severed, one by one. Her friends were going or gone, and as for those who remained… when she had visited Rarity in the hospital, it only reminded her of seeing Fluttershy in the same position. And so she was here, watching the clock as it ticked in a perfect, unchanging circle. A soft knock on the door snapped Twilight out of her reverie. She turned her head and pulled the door open with her magic, revealing Starberry, her valet. “Excuse me, Your Highness,” she said. “Princess Celestia is here to see you.” “Thank you,” said Twilight. “Show her in.” Starberry bowed and left. Twilight stood and stretched, working out the kinks that hours of stillness had left in her limbs. She felt almost normal by the time Celestia arrived. “They tell me you haven’t left these chambers in four days,” Celestia said without preamble. Twilight nodded. “I need some time. I’ve had a lot to think about since the funeral.” As much as she always loved to see Celestia, this wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have right now. “You know this isn’t healthy.” Celestia walked forward, her shimmering mane trailing behind her. “You need to reach out, now more than ever. I thought you learned that lesson after your brother died.” “That was different.” Twilight’s eyes followed Celestia’s advance, but the rest of her was still. “I’m okay now, really. His death was a tragedy, not a part of the plan.” “It can’t be both?” “No! No it can’t! If Fluttershy’s death was a tragedy and I let it happen, then… then… it isn’t, okay?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It isn’t.” “You have to mourn, Twilight. Otherwise you’ll never be able to move on.” “I’ve never seen you mourn. I can be strong, too.” “You’ve never seen me barricade myself in my chambers, either. I’ve had lifetimes to learn how to handle grief. You haven’t, yet. Pretending otherwise will only hurt you. Let me help protect you from that.” Twilight wavered. Celestia had never wanted anything except to help her and protect her, to protect all of Equestria, but… “But how can I be sad about it when I chose for it to happen?” she asked plaintively. “You had to do it,” said Celestia. “That doesn’t mean it was easy. It’s only natural to be sad, Twilight. You know that. What are you running from?” “I…” Twilight swallowed. “I don’t know. It’s just… at the funeral, the way Rainbow Dash looked at me, like I didn’t even deserve to be there. And, and she was right. I know I did the right thing, letting Fluttershy die, but I still let her die.” She was talking quickly now, voicing thoughts she had not dared to think. “I don’t have the right to be sad about it now. I gave that up when I put the greater good before my friend’s life.” “Twilight Sparkle, look at me.” Celestia stood to her full height. “What I am about to tell you is unspeakably important. It may be the most important thing I have ever told you.” She leaned in close. “It wasn’t your fault.” Twilight crumpled. “It was,” she bawled. “It w-was. I could have s-saved her and I didn’t.” “Shhh. It’s okay.” Princess Celestia wrapped Twilight in her wings, enveloping her in a downy blanket of purest white. “I know it hurts. Let it out.” Twilight clutched Celestia and buried her face in her mentor’s shoulder. She tried to speak, but her words were swallowed by great shuddering sobs. She gave up and melted against Celestia, weeping into her shining coat. Twilight wasn’t sure what she was feeling, where all this helpless sorrow had been buried, but she was unable to stem the flow. She stayed that way for some time, heaving and gasping until she had nothing left inside. “You’re a good pony, Twilight,” said Celestia. “You want to help the ones you care about, but usually the best way to help ponies is to do nothing at all. There’s a big difference between causing something and not stopping something. One makes you responsible and one is just nature taking its course. Some things have to happen, even when it’s hard, even when it means giving up the things that mean more to you than anything. “You’re not the only pony making a sacrifice, though. Every pony who lives and dies is giving an incredible gift to the future. They’re agreeing to take their turn and then move on, letting their children have the world to themselves, and then their children, and their children. It’s a noble thing, and beautiful in its way. Fluttershy gave away everything. She died for Equestria, and even if she wasn’t facing down some monster, it was still heroic. She wasn’t upset, and she didn’t blame you, because it wasn’t your fault.” Twilight sniffled. Her forelegs were beginning to ache with the effort of clinging to Celestia, but she couldn’t bring herself to relax her grip. “Okay. But, but what do I do when the last of them dies, and I don’t have anypony left?” “That won’t happen. You’ll make new friends. Life goes on, the good and the bad.” Twilight looked up. “Princess. Are you happy?” Celestia blinked. “You mean right now?” “In general. At all. Outliving everypony.” “Of course I am. You know how much I enjoy playing Go with my sister, or flying over the palace at noon, or watching you grow. You’re not sad because you’re immortal, Twilight. You’re sad because somepony you love just died, and being a princess has nothing to do with it. Those feelings won’t last forever, but you will. When you’re feeling better, you’ll find the rest of the world is still there to make life worth living.” Twilight wiped at her eyes. “If you say so.” “Twilight, let me be blunt. You’re making me worried. What you’re doing now reminds me of how Luna was acting, a decade before she snapped.” Twilight gaped. “You think I’ll turn evil like Nightmare Moon?” “Not quite like that, no. She wasn’t willing to talk to me, but you are. That’s encouraging.” The tiniest line creased Celestia’s brow. “Although I don’t usually have to push you to open up like this.” “I’m sorry,” Twilight whispered. “Luna’s weakness was that she couldn’t bear to be neglected,” said Celestia. “Yours is that you can’t bear to watch your friends suffer. I’m afraid you’ll act on that someday. Your heart and your head don’t agree, and nopony can ignore their heart forever, nor should they. I know you understand what you have to do, but you haven’t accepted it yet.” “Well, what if there’s another way? What if I can help them without turning them into alicorns? My magic is so powerful. Maybe an age spell! If I continually recast it before it wears off, I could keep Rarity young.” “Even with your heightened powers, an age spell will only last a couple of hours. Sooner or later you’ll have to sleep.” Now that her mind had started looking for a solution, Twilight couldn’t shut it down. “I could prolong the effect with a temporal dilation spell. No, no, time spells don’t combine well. Maybe I could link her morphic field to something and anchor the spell to that, keep it working longer. I’d need something stable enough to last but also mutable enough to—” “No.” One word was enough to shred Twilight’s gossamer hopes. “You’re still trying to meddle in things best left alone. If Rarity stays around forever, when will Sunstone become his own pony? What will happen to the next young fashionista who tries to make a name for herself? Rarity already had her time in the spotlight. I think she’d agree it’s time she gave that role to somepony else.” Celestia paused. “And incidentally, age magic works by suppressing and overwriting the morphic field. Stabilizing the field would negate the spell completely.” “Oh. But… even if staying around so long is bad, it doesn’t sound as bad as dying.” “Dying happens once, and then it’s the end. Or perhaps it isn’t the end, after all. Who can say? But if older ponies keep the younger generations from living up to their potential, not just once but over and over and over…” “I guess that doesn’t sound fair.” “As much as I’d like to keep you here, I think you should spend some time with these younger ponies. You need a reminder that life and beauty will still be out there, even after the other Element bearers are gone. You need a reminder that there’s more to life than death. I know there are younger ponies you care about, both in Ponyville and here in Canterlot. They can give you so much. Please, let them.” “Okay.” Twilight nodded. “Okay, I will.” Apple Sprout cantered across Sweet Apple Acres, towards the distant figure of Rainbow Dash. She was taking Granny Fluttershy’s death hard, Sprout knew, but this was worrying. And, he admitted to himself, more than a little bit silly. Of course, none of that was a surprise, coming from his great-aunt. “Auntie Dash!” Apple Sprout called when he was close enough to be heard. “What in the great blue sky are you doing?” Rainbow Dash adjusted the harness, pulling canvas straps tight across her chest. “What does it look like I’m doing? Now that I’m back, I figured I should help out.” A heavy chain trailed from the harness and wrapped around a gnarled stump. The tree had fallen a couple of weeks ago, and while Apple Sprout and his cousins had chopped the trunk into firewood, they hadn’t made time to remove the stump just yet. They were hard workers, but a task like that was more than enough to give them pause. Apple Sprout pulled to a stop beside Rainbow. “That’s awfully thoughtful,” he said. “How about you help me pull down the rest of the leaves? Let us kids handle this one.” Rainbow Dash pulled herself to her full height. “You saying I’m told old for this?” “Auntie Dash,” Apple Sprout said, “My dad is too old for what you’re doing. Remember when he tried, and busted up his knee? Weren’t you the one who took him to the hospital?” Rainbow snorted. “First you guys wanted me back here. Now I’m back and you don’t want me helping.” “Dad wanted you back here so you’d take care of yourself. This is… well, it’s something else. You’ll just hurt yourself trying to do the impossible.” “It’s fine, kiddo. I got this. I do impossible things all the time.” “Sure, but if—” “Kid.” Rainbow Dash fixed him with a glare like a wounded animal’s. “I said back off.” Apple Sprout faltered. “Alright,” he said. “Just be careful, okay?” “Sure. You know me.” She gave the chain an experimental tug. “Careful.” Rarity’s boutique had never felt like home to Rainbow Dash. That sort of frilly stuff always put her a little off-balance. Still, even if the place wasn’t comfortable, it had at least been familiar. Now, though… Not that she disliked what Sunstone had done with the place, Rainbow thought as she followed the stallion past cases of gleaming jewelry. The kid had talent, and his stuff looked good. Better than Rarity’s dresses, actually, although she’d never say so out loud. The gold and silver and diamonds were bright and colorful without being all fancy. Still, she missed the dresses now that they were almost all gone. The shop was no longer Rarity’s in anything but name. “I’m glad you stopped by, Miss Dash,” said Sunstone. “Mom needs a friend now. It’s been tough ever since she got back from the hospital.” Rainbow nodded at the kid as she went past him, past the storefront, through a short hall, and into the parlour. The room smelled of medicine and too much incense. Rarity lay on her chaise longue, which had been fitted with sheets and a pillow. Of course; her bedroom was upstairs, and she was in no shape to climb. Neither was Rainbow Dash, really—she had uprooted the stump, eventually, but her whole body was still complaining from the ordeal. Under the thin sheets, she could see the lump made by Rarity’s cast where it immobilized her hip. Rarity’s face was sallow and weary, but her smile was as bright as ever. “Hey, you,” said Rainbow. “Rainbow Dash! You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t get up. Come here, please.” Rainbow Dash made her way to Rarity’s side and embraced her. “It’s so good to see you.” Something in her tone must have tipped Rarity off. “Are you quite alright, darling?” “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” Rainbow looked at everything but Rarity. “I just feel like it’s down to only the two of us, right?” “I understand completely. I haven’t seen much of Twilight and Pinkie since, well. You know.” “How are you holding up?” “Oh, well enough, I suppose,” said Rarity. “It’s good to be back here, if nothing else. The hospital staff were such dears, but it wasn’t home. The immobility is frustrating, I’ll grant, but I wasn’t exactly in my prime before I fell.” “I don’t know how you stand it.” Rainbow Dash shook her head. “Staying in one place like that, I mean.” Rarity shrugged. “It’s not as though I have much choice. It’s not so bad, really, although I was ever so sorry to miss the funeral.” “Yeah. I really wish you could’ve made it. I think Fluttershy would’ve wanted you there.” In her mind, Rainbow Dash still saw Twilight standing by the grave, acting sad now that it was too late to matter. The image sat in her gut like a rock. “I mean, I needed you there, you know? Are you sure there was no way for you to get there?” “Quite sure,” said Rarity. “Stars and spires, Rainbow, I was still in the hospital!” “Yeah, sure, but you could’ve figured something out!” Rainbow found herself pacing back and forth. “They could’ve found a way to get you there and back.” “I don’t—” “Seriously, how could you not go? You coulda got a wheelchair or that carriage of yours or, or something. I mean yeah, maybe it’s hard, but come on! You’re supposed to be her friend! That’s what friends do. It’s not right.” “If there had been any way to—” “But there was! You just… you just didn’t care enough to make it happen!” The door clicked open behind her. “I heard shouting,” came Sunstone’s voice. Rainbow glanced at his worried expression, then back to Rarity. Her friend was fighting back tears. Rainbow Dash took a step backward. She wasn’t sure where that outburst had come from. “Look, all I’m saying is—” “I think you’d better go,” Sunstone cut in. “Just a minute. I—” “Miss Dash.” The grim determination looked out of place on Sunstone’s normally easygoing face. “You’re upsetting my mom.” Any other time, Rainbow Dash would have been able to face him down. Right now, she wasn’t sure. “Yeah, okay.” She made her way towards the door. “Hey, Rarity? I’m sorry.” She hurried out without looking back. Twilight paced before the door of the Sweet Apple Acres farmhouse. She knew she had been avoiding the ponies inside for too long, but that didn’t make facing them now any easier. She raised a hoof to knock, then hesitated. Maybe she should go talk to Rarity first. Yes, that sounded like a great— The door opened. Twilight found herself looking into the wide eyes of Honey Pie. “P-princess! I wasn’t expecting you! Please, come in. Have a seat. Can I find you anything to drink?” “It’s fine, Honey Pie. Calm down.” Twilight stepped inside. The house smelled of baking pastry and brown sugar. She saw Honey Pie had put on a light jacket. “Were you heading out? Don’t let me keep you.” There was something else, a queer sensation… “Oh, it’s nothing that can’t wait, Your Highness. Here, let me get you something to eat. I just finished some lovely tarts.” She hustled off towards the kitchen. The strange feeling grew weaker as Honey Pie grew distant. It was a tingling in her earth pony senses, but that made no sense. Earth pony senses reacted to life, and she was— Oh. Oh, wow. Honey Pie returned with a small apple tart atop one of Granny Smith’s china plates. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need, Princess Sparkle.” She bobbed from hoof to hoof. “Can I ask why you’re here? Is there anypony you’d like me to fetch?” “You’re pregnant,” said Twilight. “Oh, dear. Is it showing already?” “No, it’s… you’re pregnant!” Twilight felt herself grinning like a fool. Princess Celestia had told her, but she hadn’t listened. Life goes on. Celestia hadn’t meant Twilight’s own life. Fluttershy was dead, yes, but soon enough her great-grandchild would come into the world. Twilight couldn’t wait to meet that pony, to watch her learn and grow and have foals of her own. She wanted to help that pony make her way through the world, to be there for the continuation of the story her friends had started. “This is wonderful!” “Thank you, Princess. We’re very excited.” The door opened behind her, letting in a gust that made her shiver. “Twilight.” The voice was flat and cold. Rainbow Dash came in from outside, covered in sweat and bits of leaf. “I thought I saw you landing.” Twilight blinked. She had known she would have to face Rainbow eventually, but she wasn’t expecting to see her now. She wasn’t ready. “Rainbow? What are you doing here?” Rainbow’s eyes never left Twilight’s. “I live here. This is my home.” Twilight returned the level stare. Like it or not, this conversation would have to happen now. “Honey Pie, can you give us the room, please?” “O-of course, Your Highness, at once.” A door slammed, and they were alone. Twilight broke the silence. “I’m glad you’re living here again. You—” “I want you to leave.” “Rainbow, wait. Listen to me, first.” “Yeah?” Rainbow sneered. “You mean like you listened to me at the library?” Twilight winced. “I deserve that. I’m not proud of how I acted. I was still figuring out a lot of things, and I took my confusion out on you. I’m sorry.” Rainbow Dash stepped forward. “You think you can just say sorry and put everything back like it was? You made your choice.” “I know. We can’t go back to what we had before.” Twilight’s voice rose. “But that doesn’t mean things have to stay like this between us! I know you’re hurting because of what I did, and I want to make things right.” “I’m hurting?” Rainbow shot her an incredulous look. “You think that’s what matters?” “Um. Yes?” “I can’t believe you! You smug, selfish know-it-all!” Rainbow Dash almost managed to steady her trembling legs. “What did I do now?” “You mean you don’t even—” Rainbow took a deep breath. “No. No, we’re not doing this.” She turned her back on Twilight and walked deeper into the house. “Rainbow Dash, wait.” Twilight hurried to follow. “At least tell me what’s going on.” “Fluttershy is dead and you think the important thing is how I feel!” Rainbow stomped up a flight of old wooden stairs. “What about her? Do you even care?” “Of course I care,” Twilight said with forced patience. “But she’s dead. She doesn’t feel anything.” “That’s right! She doesn’t!” Rainbow Dash stopped dead in her tracks. “She could be here right now, helping with the autumn or arguing with Crabapple or whatever, but she isn’t. She won’t ever. She’ll never meet Sprout’s kid. She’s never going to be happy or proud or frustrated, not ever again. She could be happy right now, but, but she isn’t, she isn’t anything, she’s just… she’s just…” “You don’t know that for sure,” said Twilight. “We could be wrong about what happens when we die. Maybe it doesn’t just end.” “That’s all you have? So maybe she’s watching us now from somewhere up above, or maybe she’s back as a fluffy bunny or whatever, or maybe the griffons are right and she’s wandering Tartarus forever because we didn’t burn her body, or maybe the thing that used to be my friend is rotting in a box in the ground. If that’s the best you’ve got, then we have nothing to talk about.” She turned to face Twilight. “Every day, for the rest of forever, you’re going to wake up to a world that doesn’t have Fluttershy in it. Every day, I want you to remember that it’s your fault.” Twilight fought back the burning sensation behind her eyes. “She was my friend, too,” she said. “She was my family.” Rainbow stalked forward, forcing Twilight back down the stairs. “I shared her house. I raised her kids. Don’t you pretend to understand that.” “What, you think you’re the only one who knows what family is?” Twilight stood her ground. Rainbow bumped into her, then stood glowering from her higher perch. “I had a brother. Or are you going to tell me that you’re different because of the foals?” “You’re trotting right I am.” Rainbow’s breath was hot on Twilight’s face. “That’s a load of fodder! You’re not a mom, Rainbow Dash!” Rainbow’s face darkened. “The point is that I have ponies I care about. All you have is Princess Celestia, and you’d rather watch every one of us die than ruffle one feather on her wing. That’s not a family. That’s some kind of messed-up obsession.” “That’s not fair,” said Twilight. “I never—” “Fair?” said Rainbow. “Fair?” She reared up and spread her wings. “Little miss immortal princess goddess wants to talk about FAIR? Is that why you came here, to tell me how unfair it is, being young forever?” “You—” “I want you to leave. Now.” “Just—” “Leave!” Twilight Sparkle left. “Good evening, my jewel.” Center Stage swept into his wife’s makeshift bedroom. “You had a relaxing day, I trust?” “Yes. Relaxing.” There was only a trace of bitterness in Rarity’s voice. As she turned her head towards Center Stage, the light around her horn flickered out and the novel she had been reading dropped against her pillow. “That’s one way of putting it. I’ve been looking at these four walls all week. And yourself?” “Just the opposite. I’ve had enough excitement for two ponies, today.” Center Stage sat at the foot of Rarity’s chaise longue. “You remember Searchlight, from our production of Dray Miserables? She’s back, and she’s up to her old tricks.” “Oh?” Rarity settled in to listen. “You’ve certainly been having an eventful time.” “I know! If you figure out a way for us to trade places for a bit, let me know. I could use a break.” In truth, Center Stage had been dramatizing all of his life’s minor gossip. Now that Rarity was too weak even to see customers, she had little enough contact with the world outside their house. He tried to give her some vicarious excitement, at least. Rarity could tell what he was doing, he was sure, but as long as they both pretended, it would help keep her from going stir-crazy. Center Stage launched into his tale. Before he was too far along, however, his eyes fell on the end table beside Rarity’s pillow. On it, a perfect china dish held a simple hay sandwich. It lay exactly where Center Stage had placed in the morning. He paused. “Have you eaten anything today?” “I don’t know,” said Rarity. “Probably. I’m not hungry, at any rate. Please, continue.” “No, wait. If you’re even turning down my masterful cuisine, then we have a problem. Really, when was the last time you ate anything?” Rarity pondered. “I believe it was last evening, when Shepherd brought over those lovely tarts.” “That was two days ago.” Center Stage stood up. “I’m worried, my jewel.” “It’s no trouble. I’m not hungry, really.” “That’s what worries me.” He found himself pacing. “We need to get you to the hospital.” “So soon?” Rarity pouted. “But I just left.” “Hey, you wanted to get out of the house, right?” He forced a grin. “I’ll be right back with some help. Don’t go anywhere.” In the weeks since her homecoming, Rainbow Dash had fallen back into the familiar rhythm of the farm. There was always work to be done, and she found herself helping with a zeal that would have horrified her younger self. Now, with the harvest finished and the last of the leaves removed, it was time for winter. Rainbow Dash was spreading frost. She made her way across the fields with a pony-sized cloud in tow, molding the cloudstuff into frozen crystals which she scattered across the ground and the trees. It was easy work, if tedious, and Rainbow had always insisted on doing it alone. It gave her time to think. She needed that now. Today would have been Applejack’s birthday. In the months since Applejack’s death, Rainbow had been unable to think of her without feeling as though her heart had been ripped out through her chest. Now, though, her pain was… not gone, but different. Her mad grief had spent itself, leaving behind a wistful nostalgia. For the first time, sorrow was tinged with happy memories of the time they had shared. It made her feel strange, and a little unfaithful. The sound of hoofbeats snapped her out of her reverie. Rainbow Dash turned to see the last pony she expected to find here. The Princess of the Sun approached, free of her crown and regalia, her breath steaming in the chill. “Princess.” Rainbow Dash didn’t pause in her work. She had lost most of her reverence for Equestria’s ruler. “I’d like to talk,” said Celestia. Rainbow glanced up. “Yeah? Why? Did Twilight ask you to?” She turned back to her cloud and kicked it, knocking loose a puff of vapor, which she grabbed and began kneading with her forehooves. “No. She doesn’t need to. I know her too well. That, and Sunstone’s last friendship report made some things very clear. I’m worried about where this path will take you.” “Look, Princess, this isn’t gonna work. I guess thanks for coming, but I know what you’re gonna say and Twilight already tried it.” Celestia’s smile was bittersweet. “You think you’re angry with me.” Rainbow Dash stepped forward. “Of course I’m angry with you!” “Just like you were angry with Rarity?” Rainbow stopped her advance and half-turned away. “That wasn’t the only time you snapped at somepony who didn’t deserve it, I’ll bet.” She had nothing to say to that. “You weren’t angry at Rarity then,” said Celestia. “You’re not angry at me now. You’re just angry. I understand and I don’t blame you, but you’re taking it out on other ponies. You know better than that, Rainbow Dash.” “So, what? I’m just supposed to sit back when my friends die?” “Grief is never easy, but there are good ways to handle it and this isn’t one of them. If you’re honest with yourself, I don’t think there’s a single pony who you’re truly angry at.” “There is, though.” Rainbow’s face darkened. “Twilight Sparkle.” “I suspect you told her as much, and none too gently.” Rainbow nodded. “She deserved everything I gave her and more.” “And did lashing out at her make you feel better?” “Honestly? Yeah. It kinda did.” “That surprises me. You’ve always been so loyal to your friends.” “I guess that’s the difference between me and Twilight,” said Rainbow Dash. “When it came down to it, I chose loyalty to my friends, and she chose loyalty to you.” “This doesn’t have to be a competition. Why are you making it into one?” “I don’t think I did,” Rainbow Dash said slowly. “I think that was Twilight.” “Look where this approach has brought you. Whatever you think you feel towards Twilight, I know you don’t want to hurt Rarity. I’m even more worried about what you’ll do to yourself, if you keep this up. No matter how much you tear yourself apart, you won’t help Fluttershy.” Rainbow Dash opened her hooves. A forgotten puff of frost spilled out and drifted to earth. “Twilight could’ve helped her, though. You could’ve.” “I don’t want to have that argument with you. Like you told me, Twilight already said everything there is to say. You don’t have to agree with me, but I like to think I’ve earned your trust. Can’t you trust that I’m doing this for good reasons?” “I want to.” Rainbow Dash leaned against her cloud. “I’m so tired of being angry, you know?” “So stop.” “What, just like that?” “That’s up to you. You can work towards it, but you have to mean it. When you’re ready, talk to me or Twilight. I know you’ve hurt each other, but your friendship is strong. You can repair it, but only if you want to.” Twilight Sparkle led the way down a tunnel made of solid crystal. Her horn’s glow spread across the violet floor and walls, creating whorls and eddies of light that shifted with her every step. It was unlike anything Golden Apple had seen. She tried and failed to keep from gawking at the splendor that surrounded her. “Oh, my,” she said. “This place is absolutely stunning.” She kept her voice low—it felt only right, in a place like this. “Isn’t it?” said Twilight. “Every time I come here, I can barely believe it’s real.” For a while, they walked in silence, save for the sound of hooves on the polished amethyst floor and a distant rushing sound. Despite the beauty, Golden Apple couldn’t shake a vague sense of unease. Right after the wedding, Twilight had made a big show of friendship. Then, at Ma’s funeral, she had been aloof in a way that reminded Golden Apple of Princess Celestia. She hadn’t seen Twilight at all in the weeks since then. She had no idea what to expect, now. “However did you find these caves?” Golden Apple said to break the silence. “Was it part of one of your adventures?” “Yeah. It was at my brother’s wedding, during the first changeling attack.” Twilight had a faraway look in her eyes. “I’ve been back a few times. The most recent was when your mom and I settled the dispute between the Diamond Dogs and the Emperor Mole.” “Ma was down here, too? I never even knew this existed, until you teleported us.” “It’s a special place. Celestia keeps it a bit of a secret,” said Twilight. “It’s easy to get lost down here if you don’t know the way. It even connects to the Undercaverns.” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the rushing noise. “Ah.” Golden Apple paused. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask. What is that noise?” Twilight grinned. “Come see.” She ducked down a side tunnel that opened into a wide, low cavern. Golden Apple followed, then stopped, frozen to the spot. A narrow river had carved its path through the cavern floor, but instead of water, gleaming jewels coursed along its length. Hoof-sized emeralds, topazes as big as her eye, sapphires no larger than pebbles, all flowed faster than a pony could walk before disappearing around a bend in the gemstone wall. The tumbling stones glowed with inner fire, casting a whirling kaleidoscope of color over every surface. “Oh,” Golden Apple managed at last. “Oh, my.” “I know, right?” Twilight Sparkle walked along the riverbank. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my time, but nothing quite like this. I haven’t made time to come here in years.” Golden Apple reached into the stream and caught an apple-sized diamond between her hooves. It was remarkably cold to the touch, and slicker than she expected. “Why now?” she asked. “That is, if it’s been so long…” “I was kind of in a dark place for a while.” Twilight dipped a hoof into the river. Jewels flowed around her leg, sending ripples outward. “I needed to remember how much beauty there is in the world. After your mom died…” “I do miss her, Twilight, but it was her time.” “Can we not?” Twilight said quickly. “I mean, thank you—and let me point out in passing how weird it is that you’re comforting me about your mom—I do appreciate it—but let’s not do this just now, okay? Please?” “Okay.” The diamond slipped from Golden Apple’s grasp, leaving a thin film of water on her hooves as it clattered to the cavern floor. “Hold on. Is this thing melting?” “Of course,” said Twilight. “They’re ice crystals. Without the stream’s magic, they don’t last long.” “Oh. Ice crystals. Of course.” Golden Apple poked at the strange jewel. “How are your kids?” Golden Apple looked up at that. “Well enough. Apple Bough just made the varsity polo team, and she couldn’t be more proud. Apple Breeze is having a bit of a tougher time. Filly problems, I think, but he won’t talk about it with me.” “How old is he now? Twelve?” “Fourteen.” “Already? Stars and storms.” Twilight laughed softly. “Who let that happen? It doesn’t seem so long since you were that age.” Golden Apple chuckled. “Listen to yourself. You sound like a grandmother.” “I feel like a grandmother. I get to watch all these kids growing up around me. Only it’s better, because I’ll get to see their whole lives, and their kids… I don’t know whether I feel old or young.” They lay in the twisting light of the gems. Golden Apple gazed at the shimmering river, unable to tear her eyes away. It was some time before she spoke again. “Why did you take me here?” she asked. “Not that I’m ungrateful, mind you, but I have to wonder.” “Because I can,” said Twilight. “Because there’s not much point in coming here if I can’t share it. And because you’re my friend.” “No,” said Sunstone. “No, there has to be something we can do.” “Sunstone, please,” Rarity said from her hospital bed. “Don’t do this to yourself. The doctors said they don’t even know what’s wrong with me.” Rainbow Dash was pacing back and forth across the tiled floor. “So, what, that’s it, then?” she said. “You’re just gonna give up?” “I’m not giving up.” Rarity’s voice was quiet and hoarse, but there was still passion behind her words. “I’m trying to accept what’s coming. It’s been four days since I’ve even been able to keep down food.” “Yeah.” Rainbow Dash stopped next to the bed, sagging slightly. “I get it. If there were anything to do, we’d do it, but there’s not.” Sunstone shook his head. “The doctors haven’t given up.” He started pacing where Rainbow left off. “My body’s all but coming apart at the seams,” said Rarity. “Even if they figure something out, I doubt if I have very long.” “So how are you dealing with everything?” said Rainbow. “Looks like you’re keeping together pretty well.” Rarity smiled a brittle smile. “I’m terrified. I try not to be, but I think the most I can do is take this gracefully.” A hoof knocked on the door. “Rarity?” came a soft voice. Rainbow stiffened. “Are you awake?” “Come in, Twilight,” said Rarity. The door swung open. Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash locked eyes for half a heartbeat before both of them looked away. Twilight hesitated, then went to Rarity’s beside. “Um,” she said. “Hi.” “I’m so glad you came, darling.” Twilight looked down at her friend. Rarity looked even more brittle and withered than she had before Twilight fled to Canterlot. Her limbs were thin as sticks and all but immobile. There was pain in her eyes, but the light behind them hadn’t dimmed. “Cadence said she’s going to visit tomorrow,” Twilight said. “I thought you’d want to know. If you want me to help you look your best for the princess…” “I think the time for such things has passed.” Rarity laughed. Twilight couldn’t tell if there was bitterness under it. “It will be enough to see her. I’m afraid even I can’t do much to make this old body presentable.” “It doesn’t have to be that way.” Sunstone’s voice was barely above a whisper as he turned to Twilight. “You said you could save her life.” Twilight looked at him in surprise. “I thought you agreed it was her time.” Rainbow Dash was studying the walls intently, she noticed. “You think I care about that now?” Sunstone advanced on her. “My mom is dying and you can help her! How can anything else matter?” “Sunstone, please,” said Rarity. “The princesses have already decided. I’m sure they know best.” Twilight nodded. “I’m afraid she’s right. The consequences would be dire.” “You’re supposed to be her friend!” Sunstone was shouting, now. Twilight forced herself not to shrink away. “Do something!” “Hey.” Rainbow Dash draped a wing over Sunstone. “It’s no good. She won’t listen.” “But,” Sunstone sputtered, “but, but…” “Come on, kiddo. Let’s get some air.” Gently, Rainbow Dash guided him towards the exit. He looked dazed as he let himself be led away. Rainbow nudged him through the door, then turned and looked back. Her gaze wasn’t accusing, wasn’t angry. It was just sad. Somehow, that was even worse. “I have to let this take its course,” said Twilight. “Just listen for once.” Rainbow Dash held her gaze until Twilight looked away, then shut the door, leaving Twilight alone with Rarity. Twilight exhaled sharply. “I wish you didn’t have to see that. Not now.” “Don’t blame Sunstone,” said Rarity. “He’s having a difficult time.” Twilight smiled ruefully. “I know what that’s like. It’s okay. He’s a good kid.” Rarity laid a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder, wincing as she forced her swollen joints to bend. “Twilight Sparkle, you were a truly fabulous friend. I’m so pleased to have known you.” Twilight covered Rarity’s hoof with her own. “You mean so much to me. I’m going to miss you.” She swallowed. “I never know what to say at times like this.” “Say you’ll remember me fondly. They say you’re not really dead as long as somepony remembers you. I’d like to live forever, through you.” “Of course I will.” Twilight’s friends had molded her into the pony Celestia had chosen for the highest honor in the world. She would never be able to forget any of them. “I wish I could make you live forever for real. I wish I could keep you by my side.” “So do I. It would be such fun to stay. There’s so much more I could still do, so many things left to see, and I could watch what becomes of Sunstone…” She sighed wistfully. “Still, this is how it goes. Lots of ponies have lived and died and it seemed to work well enough for them, on the whole.” Twilight looked away. “A couple months ago, you said that if our positions were reversed, you would’ve made me immortal.” Rarity frowned. “Are you second-guessing yourself?” Twilight bit her lip. “A little.” “Don’t. What’s happening isn’t your fault. It’s just part of life.” “Technically, it’s exactly the opposite.” “You know what I mean,” said Rarity. “It’s acceptable, is what I’m trying to say.” Despite the brave words, Twilight could see fear in her friend’s face. “You really think that?” she asked. “Even now?” Rarity nodded. “No matter what I want, it’s not worth going against Princess Celestia. I know how much her esteem means to you. It’s what you’ve always wanted, and you’ve worked so hard to earn it. I wouldn’t take that away from you, not for anything in the world.” Twilight blinked. “You’d give up your life for me.” “Stars and sapphires, it’s not as though I’m jumping in front of a train!” “Still. I get to live forever and you don’t because you’re more giving than I am?” “Maybe that’s why she chose you and not me. Because you can see the big picture, and I can only see ponies.” “Ponies,” Twilight echoed. “That’s all there is, isn’t there? Equestria is just ponies.” Life goes on, Celestia had told her, but for whom? Certainly for herself. Certainly not for Rarity. Had Celestia meant ponies like Honey Pie and Apple Sprout and their unborn child? What was Equestria, if not them and ponies like them? Their lives would go on, true, but only for a time. Would Equestria be better off for their loss? Twilight couldn’t bring herself to believe that, not while she was here, at her friend’s deathbed. “Twilight?” Rarity was watching her face nervously. “Are you quite well?” “You’re right,” Twilight said. “It’s only ponies. There’s no special ingredient that turns a bunch of ponies into a bigger whole. Equestria is nothing but individual ponies.” She couldn’t help Equestria by sacrificing Equestrians. The idea didn’t even make sense. “What are you saying?” Twilight felt her jaw clench. “Close your eyes,” she said. “Take slow, deep breaths. Focus on your magic, but don’t gather any power. Turn your mind inwards. This is going to be about exploration, not force.” As she spoke, Twilight gripped the fabric of the world and began weaving a mind-merge spell. “I’ll be there to guide you.” Rarity gaped. “Twilight, I… you know I don’t want to die, but this is bigger than I am! Doing the right thing is more important. Think about what you’re doing!” “I am. This is right.” Images swam through her mind’s eye. Twilight saw Applejack chase Rainbow Dash through a storm of scarlet leaves. She saw a kite, pulled from her grasp by the wind, only for her brother to catch it. She saw Fluttershy holding a tiny, squalling Crabapple. She saw herself a thousand years old, sculpting the sky with easy familiarity. She saw Rarity at her side, watching in silent appreciation. She saw Princess Celestia— No. Not now. The important thing now was Rarity. Twilight banished the phantoms from her mind. “Close your eyes and focus,” she said in a voice hard as granite, “before I change my mind.” Rarity closed her eyes and focused.