//------------------------------// // Epilogue // Story: Unfinished // by redsquirrel456 //------------------------------// The jug wobbled precariously, threatening to spill raspberry soda all over the floor. Twilight gritted her teeth and pretended not to notice her friends all staring at her in uncomfortable silence, wondering if she needed help or if they should help at all. Her horn itched as she held the jug in place, pouring a cup for herself and everypony else. One, two, three drops spilled on her table, each one setting off alarm bells in her head. She ignored them and set the jug down with a relieved sigh—at least she hadn’t splashed it all over the place like the first time. She plucked up the tray in her teeth, just to be safe, and brought it round to all her friends, who accepted their drinks with sullen thank-yous and smiles, all trying so hard not to be pitying, but Twilight wouldn’t mind even if they cooed over her little falters and slip-ups. She wanted them here and wanted them to feel needed, because she needed them right now. It was why she’d called the sleepover in the first place. They all sat in a circle on their sleeping bags, listening to the faint snoring of Spike from Twilight’s room. The little dragon had exhausted himself early. For a time there was no noise except the ticking of a clock and their own breathing, and they very much enjoyed it. A wispy little voice broke the silence. “Do you think we’ll ever see them again?” Twilight looked over the rim of her cup that still fizzled with raspberry soda. She had expected the question, but not for Fluttershy to ask it. “Them?” she asked. Rainbow Dash fiddled with her hooves. “I think you know, Twilight.” Twilight set her cup down in front of her and ran a hoof over the plushy softness of her sleeping bag. “It’s been two days,” she said quietly, “since I was discharged from the hospital. Two weeks since it ended. I haven’t felt a single thing since then like I did when I had the dreams.” “We don’t mean to sound selfish,” said Rarity, “but ever since that day…” “I know,” said Twilight. “We’re connected to our other selves through the Elements now and nothing will change that. That’s their nature. But I don’t know what happened after…” She twiddled her hooves and her breath shook. Pinkie Pie scooted closer and put a hoof around her shoulders while she steadied herself. “... I got my horn back,” she finished. “I don’t know what happened to Dusk or his friends. I know you all feel the way I do. That echo you just can’t seem to quiet down.” She smiled bravely for them and looked each of them in the eye. “But that gives me hope, you see? For there to be an echo something had to make the noise. It happened. It was real. That’s all I need to know for now.” “You haven’t spoke a word about what really happened in there,” Applejack said, her voice thin and crackling. “When the Nightmare had you, I mean.” Rarity tutted. “Applejack! She can speak to us about that when she feels it is necessary.” Twilight blinked rapidly, her eyes suddenly hot and moist and stinging. She swiped a hoof over them and it came back wet. Rarity tutted some more and moved to embrace her. “Now Applejack, look what you did!” “Aw, Twi, I’m sorry—” “No, no, it’s fine,” Twilight said. “It’s… it’s fine.  The truth is I still don’t really know what happened in there. I understood it at the time, but out here things seem so… so solid. So much less malleable. It’s hard to think of what Magic told me being true when I feel so normal again.” “We understand,” Fluttershy said, and Twilight silently thanked her for her kindness even though she knew they did not. “As to your question,” Twilight said after her sniffles receded, “I… I just don’t know. The last I saw of Dusk he was fighting the Nightmare alongside me. Then there was all this light and noise and I couldn’t tell what was happening. I don’t even have the words to describe it, really. It was like watching the world end but I was okay with it, and then something else distracted me and the world really wasn’t ending just because I was paying it no mind...” Another awkward silence fell. “They seemed nice,” said Pinkie after a while. “I liked the way mine smiled when he saw me.” “Like real upstandin’ fellows,” Applejack agreed. “Of course they were,” Twilight said with a bubbling laugh. “They’re as close to you as anypony could get. There’s no way they could be anything but amazing, just like you ponies.” “They can’t be gone,” Rainbow said, her voice tight as if she had to force the words out. “I mean, they’re us, right?” “Something like that,” Twilight murmured. “Girls, to tell the truth, I can’t tell you for sure whether we’ll see them again, or whether we’ll really figure out what that world and all the others I saw really mean to us. I don’t know how I got my horn back… Celestia didn’t tell me and I haven’t spoken to her yet.” “Still?” fretted Rarity, but Twilight’s wince quieted her. “I wish I could tell you everything,” she went on, “and I’ll tell you everything I can, I promise. Just… not right now. The feelings are still too close.” “I don’t think they’ll ever go away,” Fluttershy whispered, looking frightened. “Not until we find them again. Not till we… we make it right. Make it whole.” “Maybe, maybe not,” Twilight conceded. “There’s a lot left for us to learn. But I’m ready to learn it. As for whether I’ll ever see Dusk again, I just don’t know.” She looked up at all of them, her smile brave and fragile. “But… I believe.” ---------- After they’d all gone to sleep, Twilight went to the balcony outside her window. She snuck past Spike, sparing a moment to give him a kiss between the ear frills, and then locked the balcony door behind her. After a moment she stood up on her hind legs and put her front hooves on the railing, looking over Ponyville underneath the protective dome of Luna’s night. Her Moon slowly bumbled low and heavy through the sky like it couldn’t be bothered to be a lofty celestial body. “I believe,” she said to the stars. “I really do, Dusk. I just wish I knew how to find you again.” She felt a whisper of wind brush her cheek and for a moment she let herself be taken by the fantasy that Dusk was answering her, but it moved on behind her and called up a cyclone of midnight blue fog. “Have you forgotten all you’ve learned so quickly?” the fog reprimanded her as it gradually took the form of a tall blue alicorn. “Do not ask my stars how to find your own dreams. Go to your own head and get them.” Twilight froze as Luna stepped out of the mist, tall and proud as an ancient keep with just as many secrets. “Hello, Princess,” she said crisply. She did not move to make room on the already crowded balcony. “I am glad to see you well, Twilight Sparkle,” said Luna, standing perfectly still. “I wish I could say the feeling was mutual. There’s a reason I didn’t speak to you or Celestia when I came home.” “Then I am glad to see you.” Twilight’s eyes searched Luna’s for any hint of compassion or anguish. But Luna’s eyes were like her stars: cold and distant and watchful. There were galaxies in her mane and thunder in her hoofsteps, and Twilight felt very small. It didn’t relieve the biting cold inside her chest at all. It felt like hours had gone by before she spoke again. “Why did you break my horn?” Luna’s eyes closed, shutting herself completely from Twilight. “When I was Nightmare Moon,” she said, her words slow and rehearsed, “there was no compassion in my heart. I tore love and friendship from my chest and swore to never let it near me again. I did not do such things to spite my sister or the lessons we learned. Those feelings were a tether, a limit to how far my anger could reach. Without them I allowed my rage and frustration to drive my every thought. Not a single action was not devoted to harming Celestia and her ponies. I unleashed a plague of destruction upon Equestria and the world.” “But Celestia stopped you,” Twilight pointed out. “She had the Elements.” Luna nodded, curtly. “She did. They were merciful enough to strike me down, because the world did not deserve to suffer for our mistakes. But Twilight, consider this: What if Celestia had not had the Elements? What if I had won and the Nightmare fulfilled its dark desires?” The Princess suddenly filled Twilight’s vision, though she hadn’t taken a step closer. “Think about that, Twilight Sparkle.” Twilight grew even more stiff until she felt like a plank of wood. “I have thought about it,” she whispered, her voice as cool as the night air. “I thought about it every day while I was lying in the hospital bed in Canterlot.” Luna blinked and tilted her head. “Have you? Have you really considered that such awesome power is ever in the hooves of ponies who are imperfect? Have you really, truly told yourself and believed in your heart of hearts that on a whim you could blanket this world in death and suffering, and none of us, not even the other Elements of Harmony, could stop you?” “This is a strange apology, Princess,” Twilight said. The silence clouded around them, thick and curious. Luna’s face finally softened like a rock face turning to pudding. “An apology is not contained in such tiny things as words, Twilight,” she said. Her voice was deep and cool, like Celestia when she spoke of grave, important things. “It is measured in millenia spent on Moons and gazes meeting across the room when they would not before. When I have truly told you ‘I am sorry’ for breaking your horn, you will know.” Twilight bit her lip. “I saw blood. It covered my eyes.” “There is no blood,” Luna replied, “in a unicorn’s horn. I suspect the Nightmare was pouncing on that moment of trauma and concocting a terrible illusion to help turn you more against us. I would never leave you if I thought you were in danger of death, Twilight. Such delusions were common for me, too, in my time as Nightmare Moon.” Twilight sighed and looked back at the sky, resisting the petty urge to flick her tail. She wasn’t that angry anymore, or at least she kept telling herself that whenever the freeze took over her chest when she thought of the Princesses. “I want to see Dusk again,” she said firmly. “I know,” whispered Luna. “You deserve that much at least. But this is your story, not mine. Whether you find him or not is entirely up to you. I will not invade your dreams again like I did before.” “Can you promise that?” Twilight asked and knew it was unfair the moment it passed her lips, but she still felt better asking. “No,” said Luna. “There is no promise I can make that you know for sure I will keep. We both know that now.” Twilight rubbed her hoof over the railing, listening to the quiet scrape. “It’s like everything has to start all over again,” she murmured. “That is the nature of stories. They never truly end, since new ones are always beginning.” A scroll hovered in front of Twilight’s face, held in the grip of Luna’s magic. “That being said, I have something for you. It is a letter from Celestia.” Twilight hesitated before taking it in her own magic, noting how simple it looked. It even had the little red ribbon she often used to tie her own letters to the Princess. “What does it say?” Twilight heard the creak of Luna’s shifting weight. “Things too private for me to know,” the Princess answered. “When you have read it, you will understand. Consider this Celestia’s apology. After what you did, you proved to us all that you are far more capable of handling the Elements and the enemies that go with them better than we immortals ever could. Celestia saw a shadow of what you really are—what you are to become. She has promised to no longer protect you from your own destiny. It will be yours and yours alone to seize.” Twilight turned the scroll end over end, waiting for there to be a catch, a footnote, an asterisk of some kind. After a moment’s hesitation she tore it open and rushed through its contents, surprised at how short it was. What she read made her heart hurt like it never had before. But it was a good kind of hurt, and it made her want to turn and embrace the dark alicorn behind her with all her strength. Instead, she bit her bottom lip till it nearly bled and forced herself to roll it back up. “I’ll reply to it as soon as I can,” she said, her throat thick and tight. She didn’t turn around again until she was sure she wasn’t crying. Luna nodded. “That is well. As for me, you will know when I have apologized. Know this, Twilight Sparkle: everything has changed now, even you and I. It was unfair and painful and we might have done things differently, but we did not. I pray you will find forgiveness for us in your heart, but I will never demand it, as my actions took my deserving of such things away long ago.” She spread her wings and took to the air. “Fare you well, Twilight Sparkle, you who have done greater things in your small span of years than any Princess could ever hope to achieve. Hold your friends as close as you can, for it was they who gave you the anchor to pull yourself from darkness.” With that, the Princess wheeled in place and shot into the night sky towards Canterlot. Twilight went back inside, careful not to wake Spike, and set the scroll down on her desk. She looked at it timidly as though it might bite her, and pulled out a quilly and scroll of her own. The tip hovered, quivering, over the top of the parchment. She had no idea what to say in return, so she decided to start at the end and leave the rest for tomorrow. She signed at the very bottom Your friend, Twilight Sparkle.  Then she crawled into bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Everything is different now. Nothing will be the same for you, either. You know me now, and I know you and every other me I could have ever been. Even if we find each other I don’t know what will happen or what I’ll say or anything. But I know it will have a good ending this time, because that’s what I’ll be shooting for. You don’t need a good beginning or even a good middle to have a happy ending. Every step I take will be more careful now, more measured. But I refuse to stop hoping, to stop loving and making friends. I know it will turn out all right in the end because that’s who I am and always will be. No Nightmare could ever take that away. I'm still here.” She reached a hoof toward the ceiling, remembering what his fur felt like, the strangely familiar yet all too alien sensation of his larger, stronger body, his deeper voice tinged with her own awkwardness and timid sincerity. “That means you are too, right?” Her hoof dropped and she curled onto her side. She went to sleep with his name on her lips. ---------- “Twilight Sparkle.”