//------------------------------//
// VII. Fantasies and Nightmares, pt 1 
// Story: Eternal 
// by device heretic 
//------------------------------//


VII. FANTASIES AND NIGHTMARES

The Price of Sisterhood + For the Dream + Things are Getting a Little Mythical + Celestia's Bedside Manner + Like the Bite of Fine Wine + Sunrise + Eight Souls, One Step Forward + The Princess and the Arch-Mage + Go, With My Blessing + A Mare of Our Mutual Acquaintance + Fluttershy Saves the Day + The Name of the Beast + The Ultimate Magic of Friendship + Hello, my Faithful Student

~(E)~


Rain fell, gently but insistently, from the light grey sky. It was actually rather light out for such a rainy day, just as the pony they were here to commemorate had never stopped being bright no matter how much rain, so to speak, had fallen.

“…and now only…one remains,” Twilight heard herself finish. She blinked and started. “Huh? What—“

There, carved into a hillock overlooking the city, surrounded by an idyllic meadow filled with trees and colorful bushes, was a beautiful ornamental chamber, almost like a house cut into the hill. But this was no home for the living.

The Tomb of the Elements was…not what ponies expected. For everything they had accomplished, they deserved statues, fountains, gardens—and they had those, all over Equestria. Here, where they would sleep, was a simple stone face carved into a hill, inset with a circular entrance. Its ornate marble seal would now close for the very last time, never to be opened again lest the wrath of the Princesses fall on those who had dared commit that, hah, gravest of crimes.

On the circular seal, wrought in gleaming gems of many colors, were five emblems, the most noble and beloved sigils in the history of Equestria save those of the Princesses: three apples of ruby and emerald; three perfect diamonds cut from the largest blue diamonds in Spike’s hoard; a thunderbolt of carnelian, topaz, and sapphire; three butterflies of rose quartz and turquoise; and finally, the very last…three balloons, two lapis, one citrine. These were inlaid in fields matching the coats which those sigils had once so proudly graced, made of tiny stones so skillfully set that they might as well have been solid sheets of color.

This last little honor from the Princesses represented, in its workmanship and the value of its materials, the wealth of several cities over a measure of decades. The Tomb was already quickly becoming a popular site for pilgrims, well-wishers, and ponies seeking inspiration and connection to the great heroes of Equestrian history; as it would be, long after their names and deeds were generations distant.

From here, the five friends could watch over their beloved home, the bustling metropolis of Ponyville…forever.

But one remained, to remember.

Twilight stood at the mouth of the tomb in shock, realizing what was inside.

“I am…very sorry, Twilight. I, above all other ponies, understand your pain.”

Princess Celestia stepped forward and, with a sad look back at Twilight, gently called magic to her and rolled the seal into position. With a final-sounding growl of stone grinding on stone and a thump of air displacing, the huge, beautiful stone moved into the orifice and was wedged, firmly, in place.

It was done. They were gone, all of them—and now Twilight remained, diminished beyond anything she could have understood before this moment. Twilight’s slack mouth hung open, lower jaw working occasionally in a mute expression of horror. Celestia turned and watched her impassively for awhile.

“I warned you that this day would come. I tried to prepare you for it,” the Princess said sternly, before her expression melted into one of deepest sympathy. “But there really is nothing that I could have said to convey what you feel now, I know. I’m so sorry.”

Twilight felt the urge to spread her wings and fly away, leave this terrible place behind—

Twilight’s eyes opened wide in sudden awe as she looked back on herself. There they were, broad and proud: a pair of magnificent wings, larger and better made for soaring than any pegasus’, and behind it, a tail of strange, mystic light, purple and pink-striped as it had always been, but now filled with beautiful, coruscating magical energy.

“This is the price of becoming my sister,” Celestia said, coolly. She looked as if speaking the words made her feel filthy, but she spoke them nevertheless. “Grief, and the pain of loss, are the constant companions of the immortal. I beg you, little sister, speak to me…let me help you now. This is a dangerous time for you.”

“This…this isn’t what I meant…” Twilight moaned.

Celestia stepped forward quickly, letting Twilight fall against her. “I know, little one, I know. Shh…just…let it out,” she said, gentle and soothing as the insistent rain that fell on them, as Twilight began to stammer and sob into her coat. “It was a hard lesson for me, too. Before Luna arrived…when I was young, I loved so readily, and so deeply, and something in me refused to accept the inevitable.”

Twilight, sick with induced grief, could do nothing but weep into that warm, sweet-smelling coat.

“Now, I have learned…a little distance may be cold, a little heartless, but it is necessary for me. For us,” Celestia said, using the crook of her wing to lift Twilight’s gaze to her own. “Becoming what you are has let our love be more free and pure than it could have been had you not ascended. But this is the price of that joy, sister…”

“No, this…what?” Twilight managed, between sobs.

Celestia smiled sadly, and shook her head. “Please, Twilight, please understand…we will never forget them. They will live forever, in the future of Ponyville, and their children’s children’s children, and in a million and one ways we cannot predict yet; such was the greatness of their hearts and the impact of their lives. But above all, I think you will never let them be forgotten, just as I do not allow Starswirl, or Fireheart, or Far Strider, or a thousand others fall away forever.”

“I’ve seen you…lighting candles…singing old songs…” Twilight murmured, despite herself.

“Yes,” Celestia said, sadly. She kissed Twilight’s forehead. “This wound will never heal in you, I think, which is good, in its way. It will remind you of what you were, once, and in time, that will be your greatness. Luna and I came to be through some mystic fate; you are ponydom ascendant, magic incarnate, beloved of the sun and moon. Great things lie ahead for you.”

Twilight looked up into her mentor's beaming expression, which was alight with affection, and hopes for their long future ahead together, despite this momentary agony.

“No…this…this is another excuse,” Twilight murmured, shaking her head and stepping away. “This is another lie, another easy way of explaining away the reasons our relationship isn’t the way it’s supposed to be!”

“Supposed to be..? How is that, do you think?” The princess smiled tolerantly and shook her head. “This is my burden, Twilight. I tried to explain when you told me of your ambition to ascend to truly be my sister, knowing you could not understand.” Celestia stepped towards Twilight.

“Stay back!” Twilight howled, her wings flaring threateningly.

Celestia’s eyes became haunted and wary. “Twilight, please calm down. We’ve talked about this…”

“No,” Twilight growled. “This is too easy. This is just an excuse. You’re trying to make me think I deserve to be pushed away for something I can’t help!” She realized she had spread her wings—an odd sensation, which made her feel foolish and awkward. But she kept a fierce gaze trained on this latest little falsehood nevertheless.

“It was my sincere hope that this would help you understand my position,” Celestia said, sighing sadly. “Perhaps you will, yet, when old age looms, and the lure of immortality bites deep.”


~(E)~



Tears streamed down Celestia’s face, burning in her aching eyes, which remained desperately shut tight—as much to deny that the terrible things she had heard were truly occurring as the reality of the setting sun she so vainly struggled against.

She dared not imagine what Twilight would think of her after that shameful display of cowardice, projected directly from the very least part of her mind; undoubtedly the unicorn would be sharing her thoughts shortly, to the cackling commentary of the ever-present voice.

Weakness had oozed off every word the wretched illusion had spoken to Twilight, and once again pride and love for the unicorn had swelled as Twilight rejected, outright, such a mean little excuse for the distance between them. But Celestia’s practiced ear heard Twilight’s fear, as well, heard her resolve being eaten away at by doubt and the insecurity that had been the unicorn’s greatest challenge, and almost her only real limitation, since she was a filly.

Never more than now did Celestia wish she could spring to her hooves, spread her wings, snatch Twilight from danger, and somehow just project every ounce of affection she had directly into the heart of her beloved Twilight Sparkle, burn away every last doubt the unicorn’s spectacular mind could create for itself and just…fill her, somehow, with the spectacular pride Celestia took in her.

Such was her power that, if she wished, she could do so; or, at least, something like that. But while a purple unicorn would remain, it would not truly be Twilight Sparkle anymore—just something that looked like her, speaking in her voice, smiling with her face.

Guiltily, Celestia recalled that in her madness…

The princess shook her head as if she could cast the memory away. She needed to focus; the sun was a whisper of pressure against her concentration now, and Celestia desperately tried to drive away thoughts about what this could mean.

“Celestia…” the voice said, in a somewhat seductive tone of voice. “Just let go. Twilight needs you…”

Princess Celestia, her reserves of poise drained, thrashed her head from side to side.

No, no, no. Just…focus. Twilight was strong; she could take care of herself…

She gave up on the lie of duty and indulged the nagging little thought that had caused all of this agony. Rise again, she begged herself—for Twilight. Be the princess, beautiful and eternal.


~(E)~



Twilight dropped on her haunches, bringing her hooves up to her eyes, which gushed frustrated tears.

Why couldn’t this just be images? Just to see these terrible things was bad enough. These visions, though—she could feel them trying to eat at her mind, trying to worm into her emotions and thoughts, pulling them out to match the scene. As a pony who prided herself on her mind, the feeling of violation was so intense that she was physically nauseated.

She had been sure her friends were dead. She had known, somehow, that Applejack and Rarity had been first, side by side to the last; she had remembered Fluttershy’s miserable, broken body, one eye looking up at her begging for the pain to end…

She dry-heaved a few times, giving wretched moans.

Twilight! Twilight, please, speak to me!

“No,” Twilight croaked. “I can’t do this anymore, oh…” She had almost called on Celestia, as she had in distress for so long—being perhaps the only filly who could expect the Princess to actually appear when she called out after scraping a knee had ground the habit in deep.

You have to, Twilight. For the dream, if nothing else.

“Agh! Don’t say that!” Twilight threw her head back, breathing heavily. “The dream has never seemed further away…why doesn’t she want me here? I’m losing my mind! Everything is trying to force me out…”

We knew that was going to happen. You need to trust yourself—your own fear that you’re not as good as you think you are is the real source of your pain, Twilight. You need to have confidence in yourself and your desires.

“Are they worth this? This torture?”

You know they are. They were the truth. What dream of any worth was accomplished without pain and effort, Twilight?

“Don’t quote poetry at me—“

We do not have time for this, Twilight Sparkle! This is exactly the reaction you are meant to have to these visions. You’re meant to be horrified by them. You need to focus. Endure. Think, Twilight. Cling to logic, try to interpret what you’re being shown.

Twilight sat, quietly, for some time, trembling. She leaned forwards on her haunches, falling on her forelegs with a clap on the flagstones before the library.

“Thank you,” Twilight said, quietly.

Please don’t thank me for putting you through this. I couldn’t bear it.

“Very well, then, I won’t,” Twilight said, breathing in and out slowly, letting a little more worry flow out of her with each breath.

Are you…alright, my sister?

Twilight got to her hooves and sighed. “Not even a little.”

Again there was a pause, which seemed to be full of anxiety and intent, so Twilight remained silent, waiting for Luna to speak again.

She is trying to force you to stay at a distance.

“Yes, that seems…clear, at this point.” Twilight closed her eyes, trying not to resent the two little wet streaks that fell down her face. She had rarely felt so small and impotent—it reminded her far too much of Discord’s corrupting touch, but this time inflicted by the vagaries of Celestia’s mind. The thought repulsed her.

So you must not.

“Okay,” Twilight said, lamely.

Twilight…I cannot imagine how hard this is for you. But you must keep trying.

“For my dream, huh?” Twilight snapped. “Somehow, it’s lost its appeal in here.”

You of all ponies should know that when somepony is desperate to keep you at a pace, that’s when they need you the most.

Twilight stood, eyes ablaze. “Don’t my feelings matter? Agh, this is…this is impossible! It hurts, Luna, almost physically hurts—“

Well, you could always ask her.

“What!?” Luna’s casual tone of voice seemed mocking, although at least a little bit of Twilight knew the princess was just trying not to add any more emotion to the conversation than she had to.

Twilight: ask her if your feelings matter.

“So, what, stick out my chest and say, ‘look, here’s the heart, be quick about it?’”

I realize it’s…very, very dangerous for you, but…she’s already shown that when you are at risk, something of her, the real her, comes to your aid…

Twilight huffed. “Well, she hasn’t been doing a particularly good job of it thus far.”

You are speaking out of hurt, Twilight, and you know it. Control yourself, please.

“I—“ Twilight began, but stopped herself, looking away with a frustrated grimace. She gave an impatient sigh as she tried to wrangle her rampaging emotions into place. “You’re right, of course.”

Remember, she is still occupied, I expect, with resisting the need to set—especially if you’re in her mind with her, she’ll be desperate to do so.

“I would be lying,” Twilight said sternly, “If I claimed part of me did not just think, ‘then let’s get out of here and leave her to it.’”

Parts of us thinks many things, as we’ve discussed. Of all ponies, I can speak with authority on that subject.

The unicorn chuckled ruefully. “I suppose so.”

This is as true of Celestia as it is of anypony. But we can’t just leave her to face this alone; for her sake, and our own.

“Yes.”

Yes what?

“Just…yes.” Twilight took a deep breath, and set off. “If I’m going to make myself vulnerable, I’m going to go somewhere where her mind might be a little more inclined to be relaxed.”

Twilight…

Twilight stirred, taken by surprise. Luna’s voice had lost its forced, imperious nonchalance; it was now small and vulnerable, as it had been when she had confessed her selfishness to the unicorn on the second descent into the heart of the mountain. “Yes?”

Please be careful. You’re being so brave, but…courage is only a virtue when it is not reckless.


~(E)~



“Five o’clock now,” Spike said, nervously.

Spitfire sighed, leaning her head backward against the wall. “They didn’t cover this in training, I gotta say.”

“What, do you think we got sat down by the princess and had this all explained to us on day one?!” Dash snarled, more out of frustration than anything. She tossed her manacled hooves above her head in an expression of disgust. “Man, that unicorn—seriously, Twilight Sparkle shows up, and then, every other day with this kind of thing!”

“Now, Dash, don’t be like that—“ Applejack began.

Dash looked her in the eye fiercely, a broad grin on her face. “Well, at least it hasn’t been boring,” she said. Everypony groaned; Dash was getting to the ‘headstrong again’ part of her depression. Head still leaned against the wall, Spitfire smiled her calm little smile.

There was a knock on the door, which opened immediately anyways. Guards are like that.

Spitfire gave the newcomer a lazy grin. “Oh, hey, commander.”

The commander was a grizzled and scruffy-looking grey unicorn, tall but lanky, with a stone bust for a cutie mark and a permanent expression of suspicion instead of a face. “Capt—Spitfire,” the commander corrected himself. He stepped into the chamber, silver armor gleaming amber in the evening sunlight. Behind him stepped a burly earth pony in the golden armor of the Day Guard and a Night Guard pegasus who gave Spitfire a nervous grin.

“I assume you’re here to ‘take us away’, then?” Rarity sniffed. She raised her chin to display her blackening eye prominently. “Do be gentle. As it is, you see I have already been mistreated, somewhat.”

“Well, as to that, I have to say that the Night Guard will probably never be famous for being particularly subtle, especially if I have anything to say about it,” the commander said. His voice had a sort of permanent irritable growl, even when he was being a bit pleased with himself like he was at that moment. It matched his rather sour features quite well. “The ponies in question are off eating bricks somewhere at the moment, which perhaps goes some way to explaining their size and attitude. Please, milady, allow me to apologize on their behalf.”

Rarity’s haughty huff in reply seemed to amuse the commander deeply, and he sighed happily. “Does anypony else have complaints about the accommodations?”

“Got any cupcakes? I’m starving!” Pinkie Pie asked cheerfully, the full-body chain bindings jingling happily with her.

“No, sorry.” The commander jerked his head at the two guards behind him. “Alright, let ‘em go. Start with the dragon, would you? It hurts just looking at him.”

“What?” Spike asked, as the burly Day Guard unlatched the lock holding the chains binding him.

The commander grinned, in a sort of lopsided way. “The chancellor wants a word. I expect you have noticed, but things are getting a little…mythical. That’s a little outside my jurisdiction and way outside my counterpart’s, if you’ll excuse me saying so…” The earth pony Day Guard gave the commander a suspicious look, which only seemed to entertain him. “No offense.”

Applejack got to her hooves and stretched her neck. “Yeah, we noticed. What is it now, eleven o’clock or so?”

“Well from the looks of it, it’s getting on eight in the evening. Lovely sunset, but…” The commander’s amused expression faded. “I think that’s the problem, eh?”

“You don’t know?” Fluttershy asked.

The commander shook his head. “Nope, and don’t tell me. Frankly, all this magic stuff gives me a headache.”

Rainbow Dash peered at him suspiciously. “But you’re…a unicorn.”

“All that means is that I know what I’m talking about,” the commander replied, rolling his eyes. His eyebrows raised sharply as he noticed the Night Guard pegasus bending down to unlatch the wing bands on Spitfire. “Oh, no, you leave those on her,” he growled. “Take 'em off and we’ll never see the little hellion again. She and I need to chat a bit.” Spitfire’s patient little grin got sly for a moment.

“So…” Spike asked, rubbing his wrists where the manacles had been binding.

“So head downstairs and talk to the Chancellor. Try to be nice, he’s a bit upset by all this,” the commander said patiently. He broke into a wry grin. “Thank you for choosing the Night Guard for your accommodations here at Canterlot Castle. I do hope you’ll consider us again for your future law-breaking, guard-assaulting needs.” He barked out a little laugh as the six friends exited the room with polite haste.

“Hey, Dash!” Spitfire called. Rainbow Dash turned and met her lazy gaze. “Try to come back in one piece, will you?” the golden pegasus said with a wink. Applejack nudged her friend with a suggestive smile, making Rainbow Dash’s cherry-red face sour into an annoyed grimace.

The chancellor turned out to be a fat red unicorn with a huge, curly white mane and a little beard hanging from his chin. A pair of small golden spectacles sat on his muzzle.

“Oh good, you’re here,” he said as the ponies and Spike arrived on the torn-up ground floor of the tower. He was sweating profusely and tapping his hooves restlessly. “Um, I’m, uh, terribly sorry about the misunderstanding earlier…”

“Yeah, uh…” Applejack said as the unicorn rushed to her and grasped one of her forelegs desperately, shaking it madly. “Yeah, nice to…nice to meetcha, an’ all, but—“

The chancellor looked from pony to pony to dragon frantically. “Do any of you have any idea what’s going on? Because I, and the Academy staff, are uh, in the dark. Figuratively and, it seems more and more likely, literally.”

“Well, we have some idea, yes, but—“ Rarity began.

“Ohthankheavens,” the chancellor burbled. “Well, go on, do tell me.”

“Er…” Spike began, looking at the ponies awkwardly.

“Well…” Fluttershy began, but stifled herself with a tiny squeak as the chancellor’s desperately eager gaze fell on her.

Applejack stepped forward. “Princess Celestia, well…she’s a mite tired, see, after a couple thousand years of bein’ the princess an’ all,” she said, carefully. “And, uh…well, Ah guess somethin’ went a little wrong. Y’all know how it is when your plum tuckered out an’ ya just kinda…drop..?” She grinned, nervously.

The chancellor stared at her blankly. “Are…are you speaking Equestrian? I’m sorry, I didn’t understand half of that.”

Rarity quickly stepped in front of Applejack quickly, clearing her throat loudly to cover Applejack’s irritated reply and Rainbow Dash’s fit of vengeful snickering. “Chancellor, sir, first of all may I say what a true honor it is to make the acquaintance of such a prominent unicorn,” she said. Her voice could have been used to grease wagon axles.

“Oh, how…how charming,” the chancellor said happily. Rarity looked at Applejack over her shoulder and shrugged apologetically. “And may I say that your abundant grace is not diminished at all by the brutality of the guards.”

“You’re too kind, I’m sure,” Rarity said, turning back to him with an expression of stunning hauteur. “You must forgive my friend, she’s so…rustic.” Behind her, Applejack sniffed, to the accompaniment of Rainbow Dash’s poorly-suppressed giggles. “What she was trying to convey, sir, is that it seems our beloved Princess has…um…” she trailed off.

“Yes?”

“Well, she’s been princess for a long time, hasn’t she? The poor dear, she’s worn herself out. She needed to take a rest, and it came upon her quite suddenly, unfortunately.” Rarity gave him a bright smile. “Princess Luna and the Arch-Mage are terribly worried about her, so they’re trying to get to the bottom of things. I’m sure everything will work out, of course, but we would be ever so grateful if you would allow us to join them..?” She stuck out her lower lip and fluttered her eyelashes. “Just in case they need our help with any little thing.”

The last statement had a carefully-crafted little hint of pleading in it which spoke to the chancellor’s pride without consulting his brain: Oh, you, powerful sir, take pity on me, this lovely unicorn, who will be so flattered by your largesse…

“I, uh, of course! That’s why I had you set free, after all. Uh…” he stammered in the face of Rarity’s expression of absolute delight. “There is a slight problem, though—“

Applejack and Rainbow Dash, who were already three steps down into the cavern, froze and perked up their ears. “Uh,” the earth pony murmured. “What’s, uh, what’s that, now?”

“Well, it seems that nopony can step down the st—“ He looked up at them, and deflated. Six of his wizards were in the infirmary after being tossed backwards bodily just getting near the runic ring. “Well, I see that there, uh, seems to be no problem after all. Best of luck to you…”

The Elements and Spike took their leave of the chancellor, and descended.


~(E)~



DEAR PRINCESS CELESTIA,

OKAY, I’M GOING TO BE AS HONEST AND OPEN WITH YOU AS I CAN. I…KNOW YOU’RE HURTING. I KNOW YOU’RE IN PAIN, AND YOU ARE TRYING TO KEEP ME AT A DISTANCE TO PROTECT ME, OR, UH…SOMETHING.

I UNDERSTAND, I REALLY DO. BUT…PLEASE THINK OF HOW THAT FEELS TO ME. I’M SCARED, AND WANT TO HELP YOU…AND THE SCARIEST THING IS THINKING YOU DON’T WANT ME NEAR YOU WHEN YOU’RE HURT. LET ME BE CLOSE TO YOU NOW LIKE YOU ALWAYS HAVE BEEN FOR ME.

YOUR FAITHFUL AND LOVING STUDENT, TWILIGHT SPARKLE

Luna stared at the words. Something about them troubled her, something about the language—

“Twilight!?” Luna asked, suddenly alarmed. “Twilight, where are y—“

But the connection was gone. Luna looked up at the silver words, which seemed to smolder smokelessly in the air as they vanished.


~(E)~



The doors to Celestia’s chambers opened. Twilight peered through them, into an airy white room dimly lit by the setting sun, looking nervously for the latest vision of Celestia.”

Everything seemed completely normal; no weird transitions, no bizarre scenarios, no wings…and the doors had just opened, as if this were the real Canterlot. Granted, it was sunset here, not morning as it probably still was in the real world, but…symbolic reality, right?

Had she…done it? Could this be—

No, find the Princess. Be careful, little filly, your tail’s near the fire…

Twilight stepped forward so that she could search the entire apartment for Celestia. Lo and behold, there she was, lying on a couch, reading a slim red book by the soft light of a small lantern.

“Oh, Twilight…my precious, precious student. I’m so glad to see you.” Celestia said, turning to regard Twilight, her face awash with relief. “Please, come in—oh!” A sudden look of horror spread across the alicorn's face.

Twilight suddenly felt very weak, and her whole body seemed to be covered in angry, burning lines. She brought one of her forehooves up in front of her face—it was covered in vicious, open wounds, shallow but stinging like crazy for all that. She whimpered in sudden terror.

“Twilight, please, hurry. Come inside,” Celestia said, getting off the bier and stepping towards the unicorn, her features set in a determined look.

The suddenness of the wounds’ appearance had put Twilight into a bit of shock, and she had a hard time focusing on her limbs enough to do anything but step forward awkwardly, her entire body feeling numb against the pain. Celestia caught up to her quickly and allowed Twilight to lean against her, guiding her weak steps to Celestia’s large bed on the far side of the room.

“Mmm…’m gonna get blood on the sheets,” Twilight murmured.

“Don’t worry about that, I can get more sheets. There’s only one Twilight Sparkle, though.” She gave the unicorn an encouraging smile. “It’s her I’m most concerned with right now. Stay here,” she added, as if Twilight were in any shape to disobey. The princess quickly trotted over to a table nearby and began manipulating a great many small objects at once, muttering under her breath.

Twilight smiled gratefully as she laid down on the bed. It was firm—pleasantly so—and she felt fatigue rush over her just feeling it under her body. Her eyes closed automatically, and while the numbness in her extremities faded, the burning itch of the cuts also seemed to grow distant.

She hadn’t really known what to expect when she found Celestia, but this was…very familiar. Very comfortable. And she was taking care of Twilight—business first, heart to heart later. Very much like Celestia, to prioritize.

These wounds—this must be what Luna was referring to in the real world after her encounter with the plate glass in the terrible, servile nightmare. The real Celestia had been there for that, in the end, Luna thought, so—

Twilight’s heart leapt. Could…could this mean she had found the real Celestia? Really found her? This could be…a true place! Reality and the mental realm closer together now that it wasn’t all an abstract representation of Celestia’s mind, but instead…the place where she went, as Luna had put it.

This Celestia certainly had that same strange habit of humming tunelessly to herself as she prepared ointments—an old tic she had picked up from somepony a couple hundred years ago, she had said once.

Twilight sighed. Finally, this terrible ordeal might over, and things could get back on track. Not that having the long talk with Celestia about everything promised to be fun, but it was way more promising than having her head and heart stomped on over and over again by the strange, invasive visions.

Lying here, comforted and hopeful, Twilight’s ability to force her mind to work was rapidly fading. The sound of Celestia’s approaching hoofbeats seemed kilometers away. “Hold still, Twilight,” she heard, distantly. “This might feel a bit…strange.”

Twilight smiled, distantly. “Mmm…okayyyyaaaaghh!”

It was like ice! Poured directly into her brain! Cold cold cold cold—

Celestia tittered laughter. “I told you,” she said, trying to suppress her amusement.

The unicorn, who was now completely awake—no question about that—gave her teacher a dark look over her shoulder. There was a thin strip of gauze, turned slightly pale-blue by the ointment, resting on one of the larger wounds on her abdomen. The feeling had faded to merely that of holding a thick icicle to her side, but, still—

“Now, Twilight,” Celestia said, looking down at her. She seemed a little embarrassed. “Just…relax, for this, okay? Trust me.” The princess leaned down and—before Twilight could react—kissed the gauzed-over wound gently.

Known to few were the secret stills of the Apple family. Oh, everyone knew about the cider and the applejack and the apple wine…but there was a secret drink, drunk out on the edge of the Ever-Free Forest at secret times in honor of dark, apple-bearing gods, that the Apples kept to themselves and a very honored few others.

Twilight had been secreted away to the caverns under Sweet Apple Acres in the dead of night, a few years ago, to help Applejack and Mac repair the burbling, ancient still that produced this fell drink, which had no name and technically no flavor; such was its potency that nopony had ever really tasted it before collapsing into a stupor.

As a reward for her help, the Apples had privileged Twilight with a thimbleful of the stuff and a cot to fall onto. The last thing Twilight had remembered was Applejack chuckling and saying, “Lightweight,” as Twilight’s grinning form collapsed onto the camp bed. She had woken up in the library and had never been able to find the entrance to the caves again, despite distinctly recalling that it was so obvious it was amazing nopony found them.

That drink, so mysterious and powerful, had nothing, nothing, on what Twilight felt as the icy line on her side turned into blessed warmth. Her mind drowned in bliss, her mouth falling open in a delighted sigh, limbs jerking limply.

But the moment passed quickly, and Twilight looked up at Celestia, panting.

“Uh…sorry,” Twilight said, blushing furiously.

“My best healing ointment, but…” Celestia gave Twilight a nervous smile. “You see why I might hesitate to use it often.”

Twilight’s lips trembled, stifling herself before she blurted out please ma’am, may I have another?, but it seemed that her expression was sufficient to indicate her desires.

“Lucky you, that means I have quite a bit of it lying around,” Celestia said, amusement lighting her voice. “I hope you don’t mind if I try to cut down on my store, since I use it so rarely.”


~(E)~



Luna watched Twilight’s recumbent form carefully. It had been twitching in what appeared to be pain, or irritation, for a moment, but that had ceased.

The princess was worried—she was having a harder time re-establishing the psychic link with Twilight than normal, but whereas with the whole ‘loyal servant’ affair, it had been like a wall between herself and Twilight, now it felt like Twilight didn’t want to be found.

A golden light suddenly bloomed across one of the long cuts that marred Twilight’s abdomen. Luna stirred, stepping forward carefully. She watched as it condensed into a smaller and smaller area, eventually vanishing, leaving only purple fur and unblemished skin in its wake—no scar.

Luna looked suspiciously at her sister’s—her elder sister’s—horn, which was curiously absent of any activity visible with either normal vision or the special sight-beyond-sight of powerful unicorns. This was unfamiliar magic, and for an alicorn is to see magic for the first time—especially one who spent any time at all around Twilight Sparkle and Princess Celestia, never mind being a princess herself—it was a rare event, all but unprecedented. It had been happening a lot recently, and that made Luna suspicious.

The golden light bloomed in another wound, this time on a hind leg; then another, on Twilight’s belly. A third, on her shoulder…

Luna frowned, her heart troubled, but stepped back and watched.


~(E)~


Twilight hummed happily as the princess pulled the last strip of gauze away from the very last cut, a short one on her neck. Princess Celestia had given Twilight a very complicated look before gently brushing it with her lips, sending one last little dose of that spectacular, joyous warmth through Twilight.

“Feeling a little better, my little pony?” Celestia asked with exaggerated formality. She was sitting next to the bed, her face relieved and peaceful again.

Twilight grinned and curled up a little on the bed, her eyes closed. “Mmm…save that for the parades, Princess…”

“As you wish…my humble servant and loyal subject.”

Twilight rolled over, her face screwed up in sudden anxiety. “Princess, I—“ But Celestia was staring down at her, smiling calmly.

“Ah…we’ve been very silly, silly ponies, Twilight. But…” she stared out the window and smiled. “At least we’ve found each other again.”

Relief flooded into Twilight’s mind and heart. “Is it really—“

“I’m as me as I’ve ever been,” the princess said, calmly.

Twilight grinned and fell back onto the bed. She was exhausted; healed though her wounds might be, her muscles now ached and her mind was slow and sluggish from the wake of the wonderful medicine. “Agh, but…now we have to talk about all these terrible things, and this is such a nice moment…”

“I know we have a great deal to discuss, but...it can wait, don’t you think?”

“Not really. It’s been pretty awful getting here, Princess—“

“Just Celestia, I think,” the princess interrupted. “You’ve more than earned that much. And I have seen, in great detail, some of your suffering. But it can wait for us to wake up, in the morning.”

“The morning..?” Twilight asked, brow furrowing.

Celestia raised her head a little, extinguishing most of the candles in the room. It had occurred to Twilight before that Celestia’s pure white chambers struck as oddly sterile most of the time, but at sunrise and sunset, they came alive with every color the sun could paint in the sky. Twilight had only seen it once before, but…the sun had seemed eager to impress her with the gorgeous golds and reds and purples of that wonderful…well, twilight.

This night…it was better. In the low light, Twilight was dazzled by the richness of the reds, like fresh apples; gold, as bright as the walls of Canterlot; rich purples that would have driven Rarity mad with envy, so much would she want to match them in fabrics and gems and probably her mane, too. All of this splayed across the simple, but elegant features of the walls and pillars and shelves…

A spectacular piece of art, which changed, every day.

“I cannot tell you how much it means to me that you appreciate this, my faithful student.” Twilight hadn’t even noticed Celestia joining her in the bed, but she was lying right next to her, a gentle smile on her features. “But I knew you would, from all the time you spent in the Hall of Dusk and Dawn. I regret, often, making these my private chambers…” Her peaceful smile grew wry and amused. “I get to share it with so few ponies. I used to be in the habit of making it something of a special honor to take a meal with close associates here, but…well, I grew to value my privacy a little too much.”

Twilight gave her a look of concern. “Why?”

“Well, not naming names, but I needed a refuge from a little purple filly who kept following me around everywhere,” Celestia said, playfully, giving Twilight a wink. “I’m know you’ve learned to appreciate that you need a sanctuary from the world, busy as you are. I’ve seen your study.”

Twilight smiled. This was like something out of a dream—no, out of the dream!

This was it. It must be! It was just…coming true, all on its own, just like she had felt it would, when Luna and she emerged back into the field at the center of dreams. Twilight had…it had seemed so obvious that it could happen, and now it was!

“So…the morning,” Twilight asked, forcing herself to focus on business, despite her growing feeling of contentment. Everything was fine. There were issues, sure, but…the trials were over, and now all that was left was for her and Celestia to hash things out. No problem.

Celestia’s smile became pained and embarrassed for a moment. “Oh, that. I don’t know what Luna told you, but…she has a way of getting over-excited about things. This is nothing I haven’t had to deal with before, I tried to tell her…” The princess lay back on her pillow, shaking her head. “Ah, I should be thankful I have a sister who still cares about me. I’m sure she told you quite a bit of history…I haven’t always been the best sister.”

“Yeah, I…” Twilight said, about to confess that her own illusions had been shaken a bit in all this as well, but her stomach flipped and she trailed off, unsure how to phrase it. Celestia looked over to her with polite interest. Her eyes were…very beautiful in the evening light, Twilight had to admit. “I…I’ve had to go through some…changes, myself. Um. Thinking about you, I mean.”

Celestia’s face grew a little concerned. “I…yes. I think it was well past time. I hope you can forgive me for not being…attentive to you. You were right to scold me, at the library…” she looked away, guiltily.

“I understand,” Twilight said, hurriedly. She reached out a hoof and touched Celestia’s shoulder gently. “Things got a little messed up. I know. We’ll talk about it—I don’t think there’s anything we can’t work out eventually…”

“I’m so happy to hear you say that, Twilight,” Celestia said, looking back to her with a peaceful smile.


~(E)~


The voice had been laughing constantly since Twilight walked in the door, howling with renewed mirth every time the vision of Celestia had healed one of Twilight’s wounds. It knew where Twilight was and found a great deal of pleasure in describing in detail to Celestia what was going on.

Celestia tried to ignore it; more importantly, she tried to ignore the lingering dread in her mind, and hoped for the best. Nothing she had heard was bad, necessarily—a little embarrassing and false, of course, but Twilight would see through this…lie, just as quickly as the others. Celestia was sure of it.

Oh, please, Twilight…impress me again now, my faithful student. Please.

Oh, please.

At least concentrating on the sun had become routine, now.


~(E)~


Twilight frowned. “So we just…sleep, and then we should wake up in our bodies?” she asked, a bit suspiciously.

“Like a long nap. Everypony usually just thinks I’m taking a day off and doesn’t get too snippy about it because you don’t, not with the princess. I appreciate your concern, but there’s really nothing to worry about. It just got confused with all our other…issues, this time. Are you looking for an explanation?” Celestia asked, giving Twilight a patient smile.

“If you just say ‘it’s magic,' I swear, I’ll leap out of this bed and go right back to wandering your mind aimlessly…”

Celestia laughed brightly. “Then I won’t. I’d much rather you stay here,” she said.

Twilight paused. There was…just a hint of something there, in the way she had said that. And the way she was looking at Twilight, now.

Oh…dear.

But no, she was imagining it, she had to be—

“Then…I’ll stay here,” Twilight said, cautiously. “If that’s…what you want.”

“It is.” Nope: there it was again. A simple statement, but…heartfelt. Bigger, deeper than those little words, but as simple as them. “Please do.”

Twilight suddenly felt very aware of herself, like she was slightly removed from her body, everything she was tensed. She could feel the danger of this moment; she had felt it only a few times before in her life, but instinctively she knew that picking the exact right words and actions were key to success, here.

Wait, success? Success at what—

Celestia’s smile grew a little nervous. “Twilight, your, ah…your mane.”

The unicorn blinked and stirred, running a hoof through at her mane desperately. “My mane? What about it?” she asked frantically.

“You’ve burned it, Twilight,” Celestia said, her grin unfreezing and a blush spreading across her face. “Come here, would you?”

“Um, why?” Agh no that was the wrong thing to say agh agh agh

“Just come here.”

Twilight’s breath froze for a moment, her heart pounding hard in her chest…and scooted herself closer.

“I won’t bite,” Celestia chuckled. There it was again.

Not…nervousness, or naked desire…just…a hint. An edge, in her voice, which said: if you’re willing…

It wasn’t even a confident edge; it might even be called a little timid, frightened, even…which Twilight found herself surprised by—I mean, come on, this was the Princess!

But it was hopeful, and it promised a great deal.

She tried to grin, but felt like it was probably showing up very nervous. She could feel her blazing blush, as well. She scooted in, closer, almost touching Celestia.

“Just relax,” Celestia whispered, huskier than Twilight had ever heard it before. There was a little bit of a purr in it.

The unicorn felt herself flinch as the first contact came, expecting something…intense. But what she felt was very gentle and tender; Celestia was grooming her with her mouth, in the earth pony fashion, chewing at the frazzled fringe of hair.

“Uh…” Twilight managed, feeling a confusing rush of relief and disappointment.

Celestia let go of her mane for a second. “You’ve never had this done before?”

“Um, no.”

“Oh, really?” Celestia backed away, looking a bit startled. “It was very common, once upon a time, for friends to groom each other this way, among all the pony tribes.”

Twilight gave her a nervous grin. “Um, not anymore, apparently…but I’m a unicorn, so…well obviously you know I’m a unicorn, ha ha ha!” She said this, rather than actually laughing, in a edgy sort of way. “We, uh, use combs.”

Celestia summoned a comb from a nearby table. “If you would prefer—“

“I wouldn’t!” Twilight chirped. She flushed red, and covered her mouth with her hoof. The princess smiled down at her as she returned the comb to the table. “Um…that was fine, I just…wasn’t expecting it,” she said, grinning.

“I’d understand if you were a little…hesitant to be touched right now. I’m sure your body feels a little strange after what you’ve been through.”

Twilight hadn’t thought about that. Actually, her body felt…pretty wonderful, all told, if a bit sore, and far from not wanting to be touched—

Twilight’s eyes opened wide as she blushed bright red. Oh, dear.

But Twilight’s rising panic was completely forgotten as Celestia resumed grooming Twilight, pulling gently at her mane.

It really was relaxing, for all that her scalp was being tugged on. It was very pleasant. Yes, pleasant. Pleasant, enjoyable, lovely, satisfying, nice, delightful, agreeable and not at all among the most intimate physical experiences she had ever had. It was just something ponies did for each other when they were being extremely close together and my wasn’t it warm in here, ha ha ha.

Her mind did not linger on how her worries and cares seemed to drift away, she did not happily reflect that she was beginning to feel warm and loved in a very comfortable, unthreatening way, and she certainly did not have little jolts of pleasure when Celestia’s muzzle gently rubbed against her horn.

All in all she was not feeling just about as wanted as she ever had, and was not thinking that she never wanted this to end unless it was to start something even better, and she had no idea what that might entail and was certainly not making an ordered list in certain parts of her mind which had hitherto not seen much attention, ranking such things as might improve this situation from one to, oh dear, sixty-seven.

Oh…dear.

She was warm. She felt safe, here, with Celestia, even though she probably ought not to, but those cares and concerns that warned her against this were first and foremost amongst those this wonderful experience was telling her to ignore. Twilight marveled at how something so…basic as having her mane groomed by somepony else was so relaxing. It certainly was never like this when she went to the spa with Rarity who was someplace else entirely ha ha ha oh wow that’s the back of my neck…

Oh, this felt so good. She needed this—no, she had needed this, a million times over, every day for the past entirety of her life to this point. Stress and anxiety oozed off of her.

Her heart was beating very, very hard in her chest. She was dimly aware of this, like it was happening to a pony next to her and was noticeable but not immediately important. Thoughtlessly she relaxed her neck and cuddled into her mentor, bathing in the slightly-above-room-temperature warmth the way she had as a filly. Celestia stopped grooming her, but Twilight barely noticed; she was perfectly happy.

She rested, warm and safe and happy—

And suddenly felt a gentle pressure on her cheek, as Celestia kissed her.

Celestia had kissed her, fondly, in the past—indeed, she had just spent a half-hour doing so, but that was just magic and was hardly the only spell that needed to be sealed in that fashion. As a beloved and above all faithful student, Twilight had been graced with fond little pecks on the forehead—for example, as the Princess took leave of her that first real night in Ponyville, or after Discord’s defeat…just a friendly gesture of deep, deep, but platonic affection.

This, now…this had that same edge to it that the princess’ words had—hopeful, even longing, but…unthreatening. Testing the waters. Hoping against hope that Twilight would notice and…maybe, just maybe…respond in kind.

Twilight leapt to attention, startled by this awareness as she never had been by the friendly gestures before. She stared straight forward, looking out a window into the nearly-set sun, crimson, purple and gold bathing the valley east of Canterlot in beautiful color.

“Twilight, I’m sorry, I—“ Celestia began, hurriedly, but stopped herself. She cleared her throat. “You…were crying.”

“I was?” Twilight brought a hoof to her face. There were, indeed, a pair of wet trails running from her eyes. One of them ended prematurely, where the gentle pressure had been.

She looked at Celestia, whose expression was that of a foal caught with a few more melon slices on their plate than they were entitled to. It was strangely endearing to see such a...young expression of guilt on the face of a pony whose composure was so reflexive as to be permanent—indeed, had been so permanent that it had driven Twilight away.

No longer, it seemed.

“I guess I was,” Twilight said, smiling fondly at Celestia. Her heart throbbed at Celestia’s grateful smile in return. “I was just…I haven’t felt so calm, and happy, in a very, very long time.”

They held each other’s gaze for awhile, twilight colors blazing all around them.

“That was…a little much, even between us. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Please.”

There was a pause, expectant and dangerous; Twilight felt like she was dancing on a knife edge, which was a silly metaphor anyways who would do something like that and oh heavens there’s only one thing for it, isn’t there…

No, no, no. You don’t need this right now, Twilight Sparkle. No, no, no.

No!

No.

N…yes.

Yes, Twilight thought—no, finally let herself think. I believe I do need this right now.

Very, very badly.

Whatever Twilight had expected, or hoped, the amount of surprise and hesitance Celestia displayed as Twilight reached out and drew their lips together was not it. But like the initial bite of fine wine, it faded quickly, into something rich and sweet and intoxicating as the nervousness faded into joy, and Twilight never wanted to stop drinking it in. Not even for a second.


~(E)~



The voice’s laughter had ceased. If the voice had belonged to a pony, their expression would have been described best as wide: eyes wide and fiery with malicious delight, grin wide and mad with glee, the only sound a strangled hiss as they tried to laugh enough for six ponies at once through a single throat.

Celestia wasn’t watching, of course; her eyes were still clamped shut lest she see how low the sun sat on the horizon, how close she was to losing control of it, how near she was to the ruin of everything she had struggled to maintain for more than a millennium.

Or worse than that, now, she might see what was happening to Twilight. But her cursed ears, alert as ever, told her everything she needed to know.

Her humiliation was total, now. Complete. This was something Twilight was never meant to see, or hear, or even suspect existed. It was a very small part of her, something she was able to just…sublimate, keep to herself, not bother anypony with. But now…

She had run out of tears long ago, in this hellish struggle. Anguish, though, never seemed to run dry, no matter how hard she tried to shut out the sound of that little, all-too-powerful part of her mind...and Twilight’s all-too-willing surrender to it.


~(E)~



It was like this:

Imagine being told, for your entire life, that used coffee grounds are chocolate. So you tried them, once or twice, didn’t see what everyone was so on about, and told yourself chocolate wasn’t your thing and didn’t necessarily avoid it per se, but didn’t go looking for it, either.

Then, all of the sudden, you were tossed into a warm vat of finest milk chocolate and caramel and told that it was yours, all yours, no need to share, and best of all, it wouldn’t be fattening because it was special magic chocolate and it never ran out and it wanted you to eat it.

And then you were given a spoon.

Twilight Sparkle dove, headfirst, and knew the joy of caramel chocolate—not just awkward kisses between confused friends, real caramel chocolate—for the first time in her life.

“I was…so…afraid to accept that I felt this,” she murmured. There were long, busy pauses between speech, where only heavy breaths dared make any sound.

“I have always known,” Celestia whispered in her ear.

“Have you?”

“I saw your looks, your glances…you were getting older...”

“Yes.”

“It was flattering, Twilight, it really was…”

“Mmm.” Twilight’s thoughtful hum was ended as her breath came in a sharp inrush, with a little hint of a moan in the back of her throat.

“And as you got older, you just grew more…you…”

“Ah.” A pause. “Did I?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry.”

Celestia laughed. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

“Mmm…everypony says that…”

“Shhh…” The shush lost some of its impact because it had such a delighted little giggle in it, and because the mouth hissing it out was so decisively shushed itself.


~(E)~



“Is it just me or is this taking, like, way longer this time?”

“It ain’t just you, Dash.”

“I could fly down, if—“

“You keep your hooves on the ground in here, missy.”

“If the mountain is keeping us from getting us down there, something must be really wrong.”

“Don’t worry, Spike, dear…we just have to keep putting one hoof in front of the other.”

A pause, then:

“…I don’t have hooves.”


~(E)~



Luna’s face was…complicated.

Twilight was rolling and waving her hooves lamely on the bier next to the fading body of Celestia. At first, Luna had feared that she was being grappled in some way in the vision, and she was trying to get free; when she realized it was quite the opposite, she had said some very un-princess-like words that Celestia and Twilight would both have been somewhat shocked Luna even knew.

Now she was giving her elder sister a somewhat cool glare, occasionally breaking into an irritated half-sneer.

“Who would have thought you still had it in you..?” Luna mused, darkly, to the ruined body of the Princess of the Sun.

Luna had not discussed the specifics of this particular nuance of Twilight’s relationship with Celestia with the unicorn, but because she was not completely stupid, nor untried herself in the lists of love, she had some idea of what was going on, and thus was not too harsh in judging Twilight. After all, the poor thing had spent most of her life worshipping Celestia…and on Celestia’s part, well…Twilight was…

Luna shook her head. Twilight was her sister, now, and frankly that’s really all Luna wanted from her—a lot, in other words, but not…ahem.

Understandable it may be, but this was easily the unhealthiest thing she could conceive of at the moment…for either of them.

What to do, what to do…

Oh, well, there really was nothing for it.

Luna’s face screwed up in disgust. If she had to see anything, both of her sisters would be looking down the wrong end of her horn for the rest of the century.


~(E)~



Twilight…

Twilight’s eyes, half-closed, fluttered briefly. “What is it..?” she murmured.

Twilight!

This time the voice sounded much closer, but it was slightly muffled and distorted, as if being yelled through a pillow. Twilight found this image extremely funny for some reason and giggled wearily.

Answer me!

“Not now, please…”

Yes, now. This isn’t healthy.

Twilight’s face made some complicated expressions as she was momentarily distracted. “Go away.”

No. Listen to me, Twilight. You have to focus. Do you remember the dream? Your true desires?

“Yessss…” Twilight said, although not to Luna.

Was this part of them?

Twilight mused on this issue for awhile. “Could it be?”

Oh, for heaven’s sake…

“Luna, just…leave me alone. I’m happy for once. Wanted. Oh, so, obviously…wanted.”

There was an anxious pause, and when Luna spoke, her voice was audibly frightened even through the distortion. Twilight, you’re…you’re scaring me. I thought we’d gotten past this.

“Well I got put back in it…by being battered around…mmm…”

This is a fantasy, Twilight!

Twilight grinned lazily. “Yeah, it really is…”

You’re being foolish. Luna’s voice was growing more and more distant. Twilight had some idea that she was pushing her away somehow just by not wanting her there. Twilight didn’t want anything except to lie here and be wanted. It was a nice change of pace in this whole wretched affair.

Twilight, let go of this, please! Sister…

Twilight wasn’t listening anymore. There was a gentle pressure on her neck—even now, after everything, timid and gentle, it was so sweet Twilight thought she would die—and a hoof was drawn lovingly across the opposite cheek. The gentle, tender kisses moved up her neck and across her jaw, drawing closer and closer to…

Ah, bliss.

Perfect, in fact.


~(E)~


Celestia’s jaw had not stopped trembling since what was going on had begun in earnest. She wanted to scream, to weep, to howl with terror…

Humiliation like this was beyond her strength to bear. She was disgusted with herself, first for having such thoughts at all, and then for being disgusted by them; they were normal, natural…but Twilight had stumbled across them in such a way that Celestia could not hide them or protect her from them, and now, well…

Ah, but, something in her said, in a dark and dusky voice which was at once frightening and compelling, wasn’t it fun, just for a moment, to hear Twilight be so willing..?

Not just willing…eager.

Not just eager…she had resisted Luna’s demand that she stop. She wanted this. Indeed…she started it.

Every sound, the little symphony of ecstasy, both in her voice and Twilight’s…it was too much.

“Make it stop,” Celestia croaked. She was both repulsed to hear these things and derived a guilty but very intense joy from them. At this point it was foolish to deny that there were parts of her that felt this way, and they were singing, now, glorying in their validation and triumph.

Celestia, with as much concentration as she dared, tried to master herself, not letting the poisonous happiness make her forget that her beloved student, Twilight Sparkle, was trapped with a part of her mind that frankly terrified her, wild and untamable despite her best efforts, willingly embracing feelings Celestia had always feared to even contemplate lest they hurt Twilight somehow.

“Make it stop! Please!” All thoughts of dignity were gone; she begged the emptiness of somewhere to act.

“You could probably do something about this,” the voice drawled, lazily. “If you were inclined.”

Celestia panted, pained and terrified by the riot of emotion in her. Desperation, revulsion, terror…love, joy…desire…all of them burned brightly in her, pulling her in opposite directions, becoming mixed together and confused in the already-wild ruins of her mind.

She had to do something. If Twilight stayed here, trapped with Celestia’s desire for her…if Celestia failed…if the sun set…

“Twilight, please,” Celestia whispered, all of the mental effort she could spare bent on communing with her beloved student, deep in the murky depths of her psyche. “Please, Twilight, hear me…”

There was no change in any of the sounds Celestia was hearing.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that, I think,” the voice replied, evenly. It contrasted grotesquely with the other doppelganger of Celestia’s voice.

Celestia swallowed and tried again. “Twilight, my faithful student…hear me now.”

“Nope, not quite…”

“Quiet, you,” Celestia snarled, wildly.

“Touchy! Just trying to help…”

Celestia, eyes still closed, panted and considered what she had to say to get Twilight’s attention. “Twilight Sparkle…my dear Twilight…”

“She noticed something,” the voice said nonchalantly. “But it was like a whisper in a hurricane. You’re going to have to be louder.”

There was an extremely pleased sound in the background. Celestia felt like she had been nailed to the ground, such was the lance of terrified shame that pierced her heart.

“My dear, dear Twilight,” she said, all her attention suddenly intensely focused on her effort, all her mind bent to the task of ending this hideous mockery. To end the disgrace as Twilight went unguarded against a dangerous and wild part of Celestia’s mind. “Twilight, hear me!”


~(E)~



Twilight, hear me!

Twilight’s ears twitched. Princess Celestia’s voice, raspy and terrified, echoed in her mind. “What—“

You are as far from me now, the real me, as you have ever been, my faithful student.

The voice cut to her heart, through time and space and memory, and drew to Twilight’s mind the memory of the walk through the gardens, so, so long ago, and the first time she had heard those blessed words, her true name. The Faithful Student.

Was this some magic? A trick of the mind? Whatever it was…Twilight knew her mentor had really spoken to her, across whatever gulfs distanced them, emotionally, spiritually, spatially…

“Stop, stop!” Twilight said, frantically. The Celestia with Twilight looked up at her, puzzled and hurt. Twilight held her gaze, staring at her in fascination and growing horror.

As far from…me…as you have ever been.

“Oh, heavens,” Twilight hissed, terrified. “Who are you? What do you want?”

Celestia’s brow furrowed. “I just want you close to me, Twilight. I truly, truly do…”

Twilight scrambled backwards, this whole situation suddenly perverse and repellent. Her words. Her words, exactly what she had hoped would stop Celestia from distancing herself, and let Twilight at the real Celestia. So much—too much—made sense now.

“No. Oh, heavens no, why did this have to be a lie, too…” she moaned, humiliated and suddenly so, so alone.

“It’s not a lie, Twilight,” the Celestia murmured. “It’s a dream we’re having together.”

“No,” Twilight gulped. “I have a dream. It’s better than this. It’s more important than… Oh, no…” She scrambled off the bed, her hooves twisting in the sheets, tripping her. Desperately she made for the door out of the apartment, which seemed far, far too distant.

“Twilight!” the Celestia called to her. Despite herself, Twilight turned and—oh, her heart broke to see the look on that magnificent creature’s face. Crestfallen didn’t do it justice; this was desire, pure desire, rejected and denied. Its expression conveyed upon the viewer that deep hollowness that follows true heartbreak, the feeling that all that is you has fallen to pieces and you will waste into nothing. “Twilight, don’t…don’t you want this?”

Twilight stammered and panted, her mind clearing as it put the pieces of events together. Sorrow and shame burned hot, but she clung desperately to what rationality she could muster and organized what willpower she had left around her last remaining option: the truth.

“What I want, you can’t give me.”

Twilight turned and left desire behind her, the door slamming with terrible finality.


~(E)~



Celestia sighed with as much relief as she dared. It was over.

I am so sorry, Twilight, I—

“Well done!” the voice called. It seemed much less ethereal and formless now, not coming from everywhere and nowhere, instead seeming to be spoken in front of Celestia; accompanying them were hollow, clapping sounds, slowly moving closer.

“I did what I had to,” Celestia groaned. “For Twilight…for myself…” Lingering feelings of self-loathing clung to her words like sea grime to a ship at harbor, foul-smelling and repulsive.

And there was, yes, just a hint of something like…disappointment, wasn’t there…

A hoof touched her chin, startling her. Her eyes opened, agony stabbing into her head as light blazed into them. The hoof drew her gaze upwards, raising her neck, so that Celestia could look into the eyes of its tall and radiant owner; Celestia’s heart, already crushed, fell into depths of misery she had never known as her vision cleared and adjusted to what she was seeing.

Before her stood a perfect copy of herself, right down to the wasted body, the sunken face, the haggardness and molting wings. Unimaginable weariness pervaded this creature, and yet it moved with purposeful firmness, the hoof bearing Celestia’s eyes up to its owner’s own, immovable and uncompromising. And to look into those eyes was to see her doom. They were lit with vengeful rage, which seemed to radiate around the creature with heat of such intensity that the princess had a disturbing expectation to feel her flesh, such as it was in this place, boil and char under their searing wrath.

“I meant what I said. Well done, saving your student from your incredibly unthreatening desire for her,” said the Sun mockingly, with a vicious, triumphant smile. “Was it worth it, do you think?”

For the Princess of the Sun, there was only defeat. Shamed, frightened, and now utterly broken by her failure, Celestia’s proud heart surrendered to despair.


~(E)~



Luna became aware of things, very keenly, as alicorns did when the times were getting…mythic.

The first was a distantly familiar sensation, one that had been absent from her for so long that it carried with it that strange feeling of sudden awareness, like when a sound you haven’t been paying attention to in the background ceases. Certain powers were welling up in her, ones she had not commanded for at centuries now. They were regulatory powers invested in the Princess of the Sun, dedicated to maintaining the harmony of the natural world: the cycle of growing, of rainfall, of fecundity and barrenness of the earth and sky.

As it did every time, sensation overwhelmed her; her mind staggered, unprepared, under the sudden burden of awareness, her emotions running wild as she was brought into unusually heightened magical sympathy with creatures and lifeforms for the first time in more than a millennia.

That was first, and it bode ill indeed. She gritted her teeth, trying to force herself back into control, desperately trying to remember the mental exercises Celestia had taught her, far, far too long ago to help her catch her place in the rhythm of the natural world.

The second thing was a much more welcome returned awareness of Twilight Sparkle, who to Luna’s immediate relief and joy had somehow managed to escape the clutches of the seductive vision. Luna had almost let herself surrender to the fear that Twilight would never leave it…and in her heart of hearts, would have been sympathetic, if devastated, had she done so. Twilight was in so much pain…

It had been a truly cruel trap for the unicorn, taking advantage of her fear and vulnerability after the ordeal she’d endured so far. Petty as it might seem, Luna resolved to take Celestia to task for it. Somehow.

Even if Twilight was long dead by the time she got the chance to do so.

That poor unicorn. She wanted, so desperately, to be important to Celestia; Luna had witnessed the unicorn's quiet dream and had been touched by how significant it had been, despite being a brief and humble little thought. In retrospect, though, Luna felt she had done a poor job preparing Twilight for understanding what the full implications of pursuing it had been, and now every minute of Twilight’s misery was at least as torturous for her new sister. Twilight needed Luna now, more than ever.

Luna, heart pounding, reached out to touch Twilight’s mind—

The doors behind her slammed open, propelled by furious kicks from two of the strongest and most determined mares ever to walk Equestria, their oft-practiced synchrony graceful in its power. The Elements burst into the room, Spike trailing behind them, faces angry and serious.

“Princess, we want an expl—“ Rainbow Dash began to demand.

“The sun is setting, isn’t it,” Luna said, voice hollow, face drained.

Dash’s angry momentum was totally upset. “Uh…yeah.”

“Things are drawing to a close, now,” Luna intoned, looking to the bier. Twilight’s body jerked and moaned pathetically.

“What’s…” Spike tried to ask, but Luna shook her head.

“She’s always been a gentle soul,” the princess said. “And she just put herself through something…very powerful.” Luna chewed her lower lip nervously.

“Powerful…magically?” Rarity asked, stepping back a bit.

Luna didn’t even look back at her. “Much, much worse than that, I’m afraid.”


~(E)~



Twilight collapsed against the door to Celestia’s chambers and began to shake, silently, staring out at nothing in particular, face slack and expressionless.

She felt empty, drained completely of emotion, but she was still, it seemed to her, trying feel some, the depleted reserves just sputtering and sending these pathetic tremors through her.

The strange absence of feeling was at least as disturbing as how aware she felt of herself at this moment. If she went by the standards of literature, she ought be a miserable heap of sobbing pony at the moment; instead, she just leaned, absently, against the elegant doors to Celestia’s chambers and took great, trembling breaths, her mind unwilling to do much except try to sit, so to speak, very, very still and not say or do anything lest she fall from this weird, empty pseudo-serenity into a maelstrom of...something.

An odd thought occurred to her, and she grinned, chuckling faintly. Total exposure…it was a strangely liberating feeling, the sudden knowledge that all her cards—even this one, the one she had been so terrified her mentor even knew she had—were laid out for Celestia’s inspection. Luna had been right about that, it seemed.

Twilight’s mind spun out like this, idly, calling up thoughts and inspecting them, so to speak, as cursory facts somehow totally apart from herself, not putting any real effort into feeling them. In this way she avoided the gigantic, panicky oblivion of shame and guilt she was teetering over like a tight-rope walker over a live volcano.

It was way too much like the aftermath of the vision of Celestia as her mother for Twilight to find it anything other than ridiculous and darkly amusing. Just as Twilight’s filly’s heart wanted a big, shiny mom, well…she grew a little older, and…

The vision had been truthful in one thing, at least: there had been glances, and looks, and times when Celestia could not have mistaken why Twilight held her gaze for just a beat too long. Now that she let herself think about it, she had been the worst about it right before she moved to Ponyville—no, no. Twilight shook her head, lamely.

Don’t even think that way. Moving on.

It was a thing that had…been, and obviously still was, lying in wait, buried deep in her mind. She really had never gotten over it; you proverbially didn’t. Maybe that’s why ponies with multicolored manes just did it for her—a bit psychological, that.

She owed Rainbow Dash an apology, maybe.

Although, that…they had both been a little out of sorts. Dash was in a bit of a state after having a flash epiphany about how unfulfilling being in the Wonderbolts was, and…well, when things get emotional, they get away from you, although thankfully they’d only gotten a little out of control before Dash had panicked, sputtering apologies, speeding off into the night through a window, heading for Applejack’s to drown her now-doubled sorrows in something mind-destroying with her best friend.

That particular mess had all been sorted out in the end, and it had been a very good, if extremely carefully composed, friendship report. One of the last real ones, actually. Celestia had referred to it in the Lib—

And somehow, that did it, throwing Twilight’s mental balance spiraling down off its little fulcrum of self-deception. Twilight felt a sob, a huge one, well up in her gut and rise, bursting out of her with painful suddenness, muscles tensing painfully like a whole-body cramp.

The truth, the crucial thing she had been trying to avoid thinking about now loomed in her mind, appearing out of the mists with terrible suddenness to send the HMS Twilight Sparkle to the bottom of the ocean to a dramatic, tragic score and a lot of overwrought melodrama.

Twilight had known. That entire time Twilight had known that was not the real Celestia, and she hadn’t cared for even one single second. She hadn’t been tired or worn, she was so calm and ready and just…agh! She hadn’t explained anything! And as much as Twilight tried to tell herself that there must have been some mind-altering effect in whatever those bandages had represented, some sort of magic, she knew deep down that the only thing that had been clouding her mind…was hope.

Not lust. She’d been taken in long before that first kiss even seemed possible.

“I’m as me as I’ve ever been.” Could it have been more obvious?

Twilight had just wanted, so badly, for all this to stop. She just wanted Celestia to be found, for everything to be okay again, that she had indulged in hope and stopped thinking, stopped analyzing, stopped observing. She just let the non-explanations and dismissals of the larger problems go unchecked in her eagerness for an end to have finally come to this traumatic ordeal.

This vision of Celestia had been beautiful, and loving, and open, and—this was what had sold the lie so well—slightly nervous, needing Twilight to reach out and accept her feelings, both the explanations for events as well as everything else. She had seemed so vulnerable, so...so much like a regular pony, not distant and untouchable, as Celestia was and always had been, even in their closest moments.

In her subtle displays of weakness and imperfection, the vision had been…perfect.

Twilight wretched at the thought, remembering the chains, and the golden muzzle, and the trauma of letting them go. Something in her had learned to love the chains in the mind, and was all too willing to have them replaced, this time with hope rather than fear. Hope that Celestia could open up to her, hope that this could all end neatly…and the indulgent hope that maybe, just maybe, Twilight Sparkle was enough of a catch that even a goddess would stop and notice.

Hope was as much a trap for the mind as fear. But hoping, wishing, never got anypony anything except this hollow feeling of disappointment.

No, it was much, much worse than fear, Twilight thought, looking down next to her, where she still felt a nagging sense of absence. Where her body, her stupid, brainless flesh, still expected Celestia to be, warm and gentle and loving. Twilight noticed, with a distant feeling of shame, that she was thoughtlessly sitting against the door in such a way that, had Celestia been here, she could have snuggled right up to the unicorn, letting Twilight rest her head on the tall white shoulder, allowing her to bask in the loving warmth of her mentor.

This had been a very, very good trap; it bit deep, coming and going. She had no idea what would have happened if she had stayed there, but it couldn’t have been good or productive; but then, to extricate herself, she had been forced to willingly remove herself from loving embrace of her mentor, then been forced to endure watching Celestia’s heart breaking—not a sight for the faint-hearted even if they weren’t Twilight Sparkle.

On top of that, having extricated herself from the honeyed trap of being wanted—having had to reject herself—she got to sit here and realize that it had all come about from her own weakness, and that a stronger pony would have been able to resist the obvious temptation.

Oh, and apparently the real Celestia had seen the whole thing which, now that she thought about it, was not all that liberating after all, and would have been a problem if Twilight ever saw her again, which seemed more and more unlikely with every passing second.

The hurt just did not stop.

Twilight realized she was giving great empty, heaving sobs, and found herself not caring. She sat there, feeling as alone and useless as she ever had.

Twilight?

The unicorn looked up. Her throat was swollen with terrible sadness now, and her attempt to reply was nothing but a choked-off whisper.

Sister, please, speak to me.

“Luna?” Twilight managed.

Twilight, I am…I don’t know what to say.

“There’s nothing to say,” Twilight said, trembling. “I’m so…I’m sorry.”

You have nothing to be sorry for, Twilight. I…I understand.

If Twilight had been more herself, the thought that sprung to mind would have sent her into panicked embarrassment, but in this moment it seemed only distantly important. “That must have been…hard…for you.”

It…was. But to be honest, I was not terribly surprised. Those are powerful emotions.

“I’m sorry,” Twilight whispered, resting her head on her knees.

Don’t be, please. Twilight shuddered, the phrasing reminded her of her “seduction” of the phantom Celestia. I think I am at fault for not foreseeing this and warning you in time when you addressed your letter to her.

Twilight didn’t respond. For some reason she felt uncomfortable, not being confronted by a furious Luna, bond broken by the unicorn’s unthinking betrayal of her new status as her "sister"; sympathy, for this, seemed…weird.

I realize this may sound strange, Twilight, but… Luna’s voice was heaped in nervousness. I am very proud of you. For breaking free of that vision. It was an extremely dangerous one.

“Princess Celestia helped me,” Twilight replied, thoughtlessly. “The real one, I mean.”

Really? How?

Something in Luna’s tone caught in Twilight’s attention, even in this state. “She…spoke to me. Told me I was ‘as far from her as I have ever been.’ What’s wrong?”

‘As far as…’ Oh dear.

“What?”

Twilight, things have gotten worse. The sun—the real sun—is setting, in the waking world, though it is not yet noon. Certain powers have been transferred to me, which is part of how I knew Celestia was fighting the process. She’s almost gone, I fear…

“How do you know about the sun?” Twilight asked. The sea of melancholy she was drowning in began to part; the true Twilight in her rose, curiosity overwhelming even sorrow of this magnitude.

Your—our—friends are here, now. All of them. The Chancellor sent them; he’s terrified.

If there was one sign Twilight was stirring again, it was the way she flushed, very slightly. “Did they…um…see me while I was—”

They arrived after you left the…vision. But they know you’re hurting, Twilight, I’ve told them some of what you’ve been going through. They’re all here.

Luna’s voice sped up quickly as she spoke, soothingly as she could, perhaps reacting to the little whines of stress Twilight was making in the back of her throat.

Twilight, sister, listen…please, just hear us. We’re all with you.

There was a pause, then:

Uh…can y’all hear me..?

“Applejack?” Twilight asked, startled. The orange pony sounded nervous, the way she always did when things were getting too magical.

Yep…it’s me alright, sugarcube. Leastways, I hope so, by the time this reaches you...Uh…Ah don’t know exactly what’s getting on, but…Twi, you’ve always underestimated yourself. Ah’ve told ya before but…ya never seem ta listen.

Twilight curled up tighter. “This is too much. I’m not strong enough for this…I was taken in so easily because I just wanted this to stop. I don’t know if I have it in me anymore—”

You’re stronger than ya think, Twi. Your problem is thatcher always thinkin’ up ways yer not doin’ things right, or ways that things could go wrong. Now that ain’t all bad, hun, but ya gotta use some o’ all that figurin’ out how to go about gettin ‘em back on the right track.

It’s when things are toughest that you have to just keep pushing! That’s the key to a good Rainboom, anyways… Rainbow Dash’s voice seemed distant, as if she were shouting from the other side of a room, but her enthusiastic grin was carried on it, as it always was.

Twilight shook her head. “It looks worse this time, everypony. I don’t know if there’s anything I can do!” she moaned. “I should never have come here alone. I need you all with me, to be strong...”

Yes, you were a little…silly, dear. But Spike helped us understand why you did what you did. And we’re here now! Rarity seemed nervous, but spoke firmly, nonetheless.

“Agh, but not really!”

We’re as here with you as we’ve ever been, Twilight. We never really leave you. There was something about Fluttershy’s voice that let her say things that would have sounded awkward and embarrassingly earnest in anypony else’s mouth in a way that leapt straight to the heartstrings. And we’ll stay with you, all the way to the end, no matter what happens. We love you.

Twilight raised her head with an expression of miserable frustration. “You don’t understand! I’ve ruined everything, I—“

Twilight, you need to stop thinking this is your fault. My sister has made some mistakes and now she needs you…not anypony else...to help her. Twilight heard the pain this confession of her own impotence and her feelings of rejection by Celestia caused Luna, despite her having asserted this many times before. But the new circumstances clearly weighed heavily on her.

You’re always in such a hurry to take responsibility, and we love that about you! Pinkie Pie’s voice had the barest hint of strain in it, but it was still a beam of pure love, straight from the heart. You’re always there for us, wanting to help, no matter how hard things get! Now the princess needs that same help. She’s in trouble, and she needs her faithful student, one more time!

Rarity’s business voice, the one that was tied to an eye which could read ponies like a book, cut in right on Pinkie’s heels, not giving Twilight time to rebut. You know she’s right, Twilight, even if it doesn’t seem that way to you after what you’ve been going through. Celestia came to Ponyville thinking she needed to help you, but it was in fact she who needed you, it turns out.

Twilight stammered for a moment, then found some words; but her heart wasn’t in them anymore. “It’s gotten so big.”

Nothing’s too big for you, Twilight. Spike’s voice was as alive with trust and enthusiasm as she’d ever heard. The only thing that’s ever stopped you doing anything is yourself—not monsters, or dragons, not Discord, not anything! I believe in you!

You don’t need to be happy to face the next trial, sister, just…willing. Head up, mind ready. We cannot choose the times and circumstances in which we live, only how we react to them. Be strong, sister—for me, for Celestia…but above all, for yourself, and the dream you want to bring about.

Twilight got to her hooves. Her limbs still trembled, and her heart felt like a throbbing lead weight, trying to pull her back down to the ground, but she resisted the urge to collapse.

This was a mental realm, she thought to herself. Decisions mattered, here…

“Putting one hoof in front of the other is the measure of courage, isn’t that what you said?”

I did.

“And you’ll all…put your hooves forward, with me?” Twilight asked, blushing slightly. She didn’t have Fluttershy’s easy earnestness; the expression sounded strange and false on her tongue, but she did mean it. She wanted them with her. “I don’t know if I can do this without you.”

C’mon, Twilight, do you even have to ask? Dash said, clearly grinning smugly. We’ve got your back, you know that.

“In that case...” Twilight lifted a hoof, closed her eyes, and…

Oh, she was still humiliated and afraid. Her heart was burning for the pain of it all. Rejection, repeated rejection, still stung her heart like lash-strokes. Shame, from things she had done and said—or not done, and not said—still fed her terrors that Celestia was pushing her away now because Twilight was incapable or incompetent to face whatever was happening. The disturbing emotions brought out by the visions still hung as a haze in her mind. And she was stuck here without magic, her great strength and special gift.

But in the Magic of Friendship, she had the strength of her friends and family walking with her, bearing her up in her time of need.

Once again, Twilight Sparkle let herself feel all those fears and terrors, let them well up in her all at once, so that she could—it must be said, with difficulty—place that hoof down again in defiance of herself.

And then she stepped forward once more.

And again.

It grew easier, each time.

What will you do, Twilight? Luna asked, sounding more like the divine princess she was than Twilight had heard all day; her tone was proud and portentous—a ruler looking down, with love, upon a pony who was deciding her own fate.

“I’m going to see this through to the end,” Twilight replied, as firmly as she could. “Whatever that end may be.”

Applejack spoke first, her voice flush with pride. That’s mah girl.

We’ll be with you, all the way. Fluttershy’s quiet statement was echoed with a chorus of affirmatives.

You can do it, Twilight! Spike gushed.

“I’m going to go to the Great Hall,” Twilight said, not knowing why. Given the circumstances, she considered that strange impulse suspiciously and decided to share it, just in case it made any sense to Luna. “I just…have a feeling I need to go there.”

Were you able to access it before?

“No, but…” Twilight said, a rising sense of hope growing in her, “I have a feeling that the doors will be open to me now.” She increased her pace, galloping through the halls of Canterlot, its familiar ways flowing around her as she thought.

Okay, no magic…except the magic of friendship. Well, Twilight had just gotten a big dose of that herself, and wow was it effective…she had to hope Celestia was equally ready to take her medicine.

Twilight’s mind raced as she turned, hard, around the corner from the stairwell from Celestia’s wing of the castle, and raced through the ballroom corridors. Dying sunlight poured in through the broad panel windows of this exterior hallway; Twilight felt like she was racing against the sun.

Celestia was clearly terrified of what’s going on, but based on what Luna said, she was desperate to keep everypony away, determined to deal with things on her own. Pride was a deadly temptation for the powerful, and Celestia was very powerful.

Twilight’s own madness supported this conclusion—she’d seen Celestia as perfect. Why? Because Celestia wanted everypony to see her that way…or something like it. Even now, especially now, Twilight made herself reject the idea that Celestia had intended Twilight any harm. She was momentarily troubled by how easily her thoughts strayed away from that—something which should be a touchstone for her. But things were troubled, and unintentional hurts deserved a measure of forgiveness.

It was about the Eternal Sun.

What had she done to herself? What was going wrong with her?

Twilight set her face in a determined grin. If it was about magic, then Dr. Twilight Sparkle, PhD times three, was on call. Magic she could deal with; magic was her thing, after all. And if Celestia didn’t trust her own student to deal with a fundamentally magical issue, well…

Then Twilight would have to trust in herself, regardless.

Twilight smiled. That thought felt good. Really good. Better than, say, caramel chocolate, in its way.

I’m glad you feel that way, Twilight. It does me good to hear you accepting your strength! Although if you start calling yourself Dr. Twilight Sparkle, I won’t be seen in public with you ever again.

“Luna?” Twilight gasped, between strides. “I was speaking?”

In snatches, now and again. You didn’t realize..? Twilight rolled her eyes, imagining Luna’s grin blooming.

“Well, then,” Twilight said sternly, slamming a hoof down to roll on it, executing an expert ninety-degree turn that Applejack and Rainbow Dash would have been forced to admit was pretty good for a bookworm, “You’re going to help. Any speculation on the Eternal Sun business?”

None. I don’t know anything about her cycle of rising and setting; she’s always been very private about it. But if I were to venture a guess, working from my own experience, perhaps it would be like me trying to stay full, or new, resisting waxing or waning. But I’ve never even thought about doing such a thing; I have no idea what it might entail.

“I’ll have to get it out of her somehow, then, I guess.”

Again, I suspect only you would be able to get her to do so.

Twilight grimaced. “Then I will.” She rounded the final bend and saw the doors to the great hall, lying before her.

“Everypony, I’ve arrived. I’m…I feel drawn there…” Twilight began stepping forward, slowly, her courage sputtering and flaring weirdly like a campfire in the wind. She felt the inertia of events drawing her forward, history’s eye falling on her as she drew nearer.

Be careful, Twilight. Fluttershy was very obviously forcing herself to speak firmly through her fear, and Twilight felt her affection for the pegasus grow, somehow, beyond the extremes it had already reached.

Ya got it in ya to do way more’n this, sugarcube, if ya let yourself believe you do.

You know what you need to do. So do it! Typically straightforward, from Dash, and the chorus of that last sentence with Pinkie Pie, so enthusiastic and energetic, their huge smiles obvious, made Twilight’s spirits soar.

My heart goes with you, as always. We’re walking with you, dear!

…Be safe, big sister.

“Oh, Spike,” Twilight murmured, heart melting. “I will.”

Twilight…you want to be precious to my sister, as you are already precious to me—my beloved sister, who swore herself to me in the ancient ways of knighthood—

“I…did? That’s what that saying was?” Twilight stammered, blushing. “I, er, didn’t mean any offense! I mean, I’m no knight—“

Are you not? Ever do you stride bravely in the service of the Sisters, as Starlight Chaser and her proud company did, long ago. Luna seemed amused, again. They would have been proud to call you comrade. In any case, I think you are ready to face the full consequences of the desire you hold in your heart. Go, knight of Equestria! The princess you saved from Nightmare stands with you!

“Er, yeah, I will,” Twilight said, smiling wryly. Her expression softened. “Thank you, everypony. So much.”

Twilight Sparkle, the Faithful Student, Arch-Mage and accidental knight, stepped forward. The doors to the great hall split and swung open before her, her hoofbeats echoing loudly into the yawning hall.

“Twilight Sparkle,” Celestia said, from the throne at the far end of the hall. “I’m so glad you’ve come…now, at the end of things.”


~(E)~



With a blinding flash of blue light, Luna was thrown bodily across the chamber, saved by merest chance from a terrible impalement on the strange luminescent crystals. She tumbled, head over hooves, and came to a stop about ten meters from the bier, groaning and shaking her head.

“Princess!” Spike cried, hustling over to her. Applejack and Fluttershy were right behind him, Fluttershy’s face radiating concern.

Luna struggled to her hooves, collapsing a couple times until Spike assisted her. She shook her head, blinking hugely, as Fluttershy began fussing over her, looking for wounds.

Applejack frowned. “What just happened? Is Twilight alright?”

Luna turned her head to the bier and stared, confusion growing on her face. “Was that really..?”