Celestia awoke.
A light flashed in front of her eyes, and she was instantly out of bed, awake and alert. Celestia’s horn shimmered, and her royal bed chamber was instantly lit with candles and lamplight.
And at the foot of her grand white bed, a sheet of parchment had materialized. It sat on the floor, lifeless and waiting.
Celestia blinked and walked to the paper, peering down at it as if at an ancient artifact rediscovered. There was only one pony capable of delivering a message to Celestia so directly – only one pony equipped with a Dragon’s Tongue of her own design. After weeks, a letter had finally come.
Celestia magically lifted the note from the floor, held it aloft before her, and read.
As the words flew by before her, Celestia felt herself growing colder and colder, chilled in the mind and in the heart, until she finally reached the last lines, Your student, Star Swirl, and she was numb. She read the letter again. And then a third time.
She set the letter down on her bed and stared off into empty space, assessing the state of things.
Jackals had come to Whither’s Hollow. Celestia had never believed that they would have any interest in so tiny a town of ponies, yet still they had come. And despite the horror of it, despite all the disturbances rippling in the mind of the Princess, she felt a very definite relief. Her plan had worked. Star Swirl had beaten back the beast, he had saved the lives of who knows how many ponies. Had Celestia kept Star Swirl in Canterlot, had she left Whither’s Hollow to its own devices, she might have had a massacre on her hooves.
After such an encounter as that which Star Swirl described in his letter, Celestia knew that something further had to be done, to assuage the minds of the villagers in Whither’s Hollow. In all the rest of Equestria, the Jackals were only rumors, shifting things just out of the corner of one’s eye; not yet monsters lurking just below the window at night, waiting for the moment to strike. A confrontation such as this… It required swift action.
And yet again, Celestia confronted the reason why she had been forced to use Star Swirl for defensive purposes in the first place. There was hardly any aid left to send – Celestia had long since scattered the bulk of the court unicorns and the Royal Guard across Equestria, on the alert for Jackals. She could not remove them from their posts just to send them to Whither’s Hollow. The whole of Equestria faced this danger, and Celestia would not leave a single town unprotected if she could help it.
Celestia paced the floor, everything a blur before her. What ponies were left to send…
Even in Canterlot, there was little in the way of reinforcement. If the Jackals were to come to Canterlot – if they were truly that foolish – then they would meet more than their match in the two princesses. So Celestia had only kept the minimum patrolling guards in the city, and had only kept a dozen in the palace, just for show, just to let the ponies of Canterlot know that there was nothing to fear, the princesses would be staying where they were, the guard was in place, all was well.
But things had changed. Yes, the guards of the palace would have to go.
Celestia would send them to Whither’s Hollow. She would keep two – the very minimum she could afford, to keep up any sort of appearance at all – and the rest, she would send to the little town. Celestia knew that the guards would not truly be much help if the Jackals were to surface again, but the important thing was that the ponies of Whither’s Hollow feel protected, protected from the horrors of the night, by the Royal Guard, by Princess Celestia herself. So she would send them out immediately, as soon she had written her reply to Star Swirl.
Ah, yes. A reply to Star Swirl.
What could she say?
There was very little choice. The truth. The time for quiet white lies and important details left forgotten had passed the moment Star Swirl had lifted that blue tent from off the grass.
Celestia sat down at her desk, the wide window facing her opaque with night. She conjured a roll of parchment, an inkwell, and a quill before her. She hesitated for a moment, and then began.
My Faithful Student, Star Swirl,
Thank you for bringing these events to my attention. By morning, a unit of the Royal Guard will be stationed in Whither’s Hollow.
The creature you describe in your letter is a very old sort of monster, a monster which my sister and I know far too well.
And she wrote him the story. The presence of the Jackals in the wake of Discord, their viciousness, their hunger for ponies, and the fall of their king. She wrote as if in a dream, the words spreading out before her like spilled paint, painting a portrait, a vision of a violent past and a dark, dim memory of wild, snarling things.
The quill marched its relentless march across the parchment until the history was told, and abruptly, Celestia found she had a new story to tell. The reemergence of the Jackals.
This tale would not come so easily. The quill halted and stood at attention. Celestia considered the delicacy of the words.
The quill marched on.
Hardly a week ago, I was made aware of a terrible tragedy. Two miller ponies were murdered by one of these creatures. Until then, Princess Luna and I had never suspected that any Jackals might have survived. But after this unspeakable accident, which prompted further investigation, the truth quickly became clear. The Jackals have found a new King, and they wait, on the brink of return.
It was hardly even a lie at all. And yet, something nesting deep inside the heart of the princess told her not to tell Star Swirl how much she’d known of the Jackals from the beginning; how much she'd known since before Star Swirl had even set hoof in Canterlot for the first time. The two of them had hardly ever spoken with one another, the princess and Star Swirl. And Celestia was uncertain whether or not their relationship had a strong foundation, a foundation that could withstand the buffeting gales of honesty.
She would not chance it. Star Swirl’s studies mattered too much. If Star Swirl learned that Celestia had known about the Jackals all along… If he learned that she needed his talents for magical defense… If his hesitance toward the Princess had a chance to fester into something else… That might become a problem very quickly.
She finished her letter with some statement on the swift response that would inevitably come, a further commendation of Star Swirl’s bravery in the face of adversity, and she signed the letter, Your friend and teacher, Princess Celestia.
The quill fell. She looked over the letter.
I need his trust, she thought. I need the trust of every pony in Equestria. But sometimes, trust can be so difficult to come by…
Princess Celestia knew that she was more than the Day Bringer. She was a beacon of peace and balance to ponies the world over. They expected more than success from the Princess of the Sun. They expected greatness.
If only Princess Luna’s talents and duties were displayed in the open light of day, as Celestia’s were. Then perhaps she might have been afforded the same attention. But it was not so. Celestia felt the weight of hope on her shoulders, hers alone.
They call upon me to be their pillar of strength. And so, I shall be.
At whatever the cost.
Her horn lit yellow, and with a flash of fire, the letter was gone.
The next morning’s air was warm and still. The sky was clear, a soft mist rolled over the hills, and Star Swirl awoke.
There had not been much sleep for him the previous night.
Star Swirl had waited by the Dragon’s Tongue for half an hour before his reply had materialized in the green fire. He had read, and suddenly nothing was the same.
The worst part of it all was that there was so little Star Swirl could do. He could only stay in Whither’s Hollow, to ensure the safety of his friends. The rest, he would have to trust to Princess Celestia. And that was difficult.
That waiting, that looming foreboding of helplessness, had stretched Star Swirl thin that night between waking and sleeping. But the morning had come, and with it, there was more to be done.
The first rays of dawn broke through the windows. Star Swirl donned his cloak and hat, braced himself for the world, and opened the door of the cabin.
He stopped. Out on the grass before his door stood Pan. There was no flute being played that morning. Pan stood there, stiff and anxious, as Star Swirl appeared in the doorway. Pan looked at him, somehow disturbed. Star Swirl blinked.
“Pan,” he said. “Good morning. I’m sorry, I didn’t expect to see you out here so early.”
“No, of course, I didn’t mean to bother you,” said Pan, his eyes falling. “It’s just… I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait. What every pony is saying… Is it true? The monster?”
Star Swirl saw Pan’s eyes glaze, he sensed his fear. He descended from the doorway and approached Pan. “There’s no need to worry, I assure you,” he said. “The creature was dealt with. The princess sent a regiment of the Royal Guard. They should be here by – ”
“Wait,” said Pan. “I meant, I heard that you… fought it. I needed to know. Are you all right? You aren’t hurt?”
Star Swirl stared at Pan for a moment, lost. Then he returned to himself. “Oh, not at all, Pan, I’m absolutely fine. It was just a, uh, minor confrontation. I have no battle scars to show for it, I assure you.”
A smile floated behind Pan’s wide eyes. “Well, that’s good. That you’re all right, I mean.”
Star Swirl hesitated, only the slightest of inhibitions left flickering inside him; and then he overcame them and put his hoof on Pan’s shoulder. “Thank you, Pan,” he said.
And by unspoken consent, the two of them began their walk into town.
As they made their way off of Blackwood Road, something caught Star Swirl’s eye. He looked, and just a little ways away from the road, there stood two tall white ponies, solemn, unreadable. They stood facing the dark wall of Blackwood Forest, clad in sheets of dull golden armor, their gazes unwavering, their shadows long. Royal Guards.
“Good,” Star Swirl murmured. “That is good.”
Pan glanced sideways at the guards, and promptly quickened his step.
As they ventured deeper into town, the two stopped. “Pan,” said Star Swirl, “I’m sorry, I hope you’ll excuse me. I must go speak with Lily.”
“Oh.” Pan nodded. “Sure thing. I need to go find Emory, ask a few more questions…”
Star Swirl turned and started in the direction of The Blue Rose.
“Star Swirl?”
The voice pulled him back. Star Swirl stopped and turned again to face Pan.
“Yes, Pan?”
“You really do care for Lily, don’t you?”
Star Swirl blinked. Pan's face was curious, but somehow, difficult to read. And Star Swirl could not help but answer honestly.
“I think I do,” he said.
Star Swirl smiled. And then he turned and made again for The Blue Rose, Pan gazing after him.
The ponies of Whither’s Hollow were hushed as they busied themselves across the streets. They tried to push life on, but still; there had been an incident. Gossip bubbled and boiled. Something was skulking about, something with teeth and a terrible howl. Would it stay in the forest? Was it already waiting in some poor pony’s basement, for the sun to fall? Was there more than one? What, why, how? No pony dared speak too loudly.
Star Swirl was surprised to find The Blue Rose closed. He looked into the window for signs of light or life, but there was nothing.
It is unlike her, he thought, but perhaps she decided to stay home today. I’m sure many ponies have hardly the courage to walk the streets after –
“Star Swirl!”
He whirled around, and Lily came bounding behind him, out of breath, sleepy eyed.
Star Swirl approached her in the street, watching her carefully; she seemed about to fall over. “Lily,” he said, “are you all right?”
Lily stopped for a moment to catch her breath, and then there was a change in the sound of her air. After a moment, Star Swirl realized she was laughing.
Lily wiped her eyes. “Of course you’d ask that!” she cried. “You magic-away some mysterious beastie from a dark dimension, and you’re asking me if I’m all right? Heavens, Star Swirl, I’m not sure I’ll ever understand you…”
“You look tired.”
“Ah, well, after all the hoopla last night, I got to bed so late, I slept in – I’m sorry, I should have been open twenty minutes ago. But you know, something tells me that not many ponies are interested in buying flowers today.”
Star Swirl glanced around. The solemnity in the air was quite unlike anything he’d ever felt in this town. He turned back to Lily.
“Yes,” he said, “about that… I know that you wanted to find some flowers in the forest today – ”
“Don’t tell me. Blackwood is out of bounds for the foreseeable future?”
Star Swirl nodded. “Yes. Even with my magic, there’s no telling how safe you’d be in there. I’m sorry, Lily, but we can’t – ”
Lily laughed again; a bit of life was finding its way back into her eyes. “No need to be sorry, Star,” she said. “I figured as much. Actually, I half expected you to drag me in there anyway, just to fulfill some kind of promise. Then I’d be the one keeping you away from some mysterious beastie.”
Star Swirl looked at the ground and chuckled. “Yes, I guess that’s right.”
They looked at one another, and the laughter faded into a mellow hum in the air. Their eyes lingered. And then the moment was over, and Star Swirl cleared his throat.
“So,” he said.
“So.”
“If you still aren’t busy today… Maybe we could take a walk over by the river? There might not be any flowers, but there aren’t any murderous wolf-creatures, either.”
Lily grinned. “I think I can squeeze you in. Lead on, oh Vanquisher of Unlikely Adversaries.”
And together they walked.
The riverside was green and deserted, the sky was open blue, and the water was glass. Star Swirl and Lily followed the curve of the river, chatting and chuckling. And for some moments, they were content just to look around and watch how the sun made the colors dance.
“You know what I like best about this town?” Lily said. “It reminds me of home.”
“You’ve never mentioned your old home before.”
“Well, I didn’t stay too long. Oh, it was a perfectly happy childhood; I just had things to do. Still do, you know.”
“Things?” Star Swirl asked.
They approached a massive old maple tree, standing lonely by the river, its branches wide, the shade it cast, a soft dark green. They passed under it, and Star Swirl felt its cool.
“Oh yes,” Lily said. “Big, important things. Bizarre things, shocking things! Things that would turn your coat white!”
Star Swirl’s eyebrows went up. Lily smiled at him sideways.
“See?” she said. “I can be just as mysterious as you, Mr. Magical Unicorn from over the hills and past the edge of the world.”
Star Swirl stopped in the shade. Lily stopped with him.
“Is that so?” he said, the ghost of a grin hanging about him. “Let’s stop here for a moment. I’d like to hear more about these ‘things’ of yours.” He sat down, leaning against the tree trunk, and placed his blue pointed hat down beside him. “I’m ready to be beguiled with tales of your fancy.”
Lily looked down at him a moment, surprised, and then burst out laughing.
“I don’t understand, Lily!” he said, joining in the laughter. “You laugh at everything!”
“I can’t help it, Star Swirl!” Lily cried, collapsing beside him under the tree. “Everything is just so funny! You, most of all. I was just thinking, remembering the Star Swirl that first set hoof in my shop. He was a quiet thing, severe, unsure of himself and every pony around him. But now – look at this Star Swirl who sits before me! Wise cracking, tongue-in-cheek. I’d like to think I’ve rubbed off on you a bit. I’m actually rather proud of myself, truth be told.”
Star Swirl bowed his head, warmth in his face. “You’re changing the subject,” he said. “I’m still waiting to hear about your earliest adventures.”
“Yes, well,” Lily said, her laugh quieting, “truthfully, there isn’t much to tell. Flowers were all I ever wanted. Well, no, that’s not true. Flowers, and a little bit of adventure. A little bit of open road, a new face to smile at, a new puzzle to solve. I knew very early on, what I wanted. I trust you’ve noticed my cutie mark?”
“… A blue rose.”
“I was one of the first fillies in my class to get her cutie mark. It’s not much of a story, really. I had an aunt. She only ever visited once, and she’s dead by now. But that day when she came… Oh, the excitement of it! She came galloping over the hills to my parent’s little house. She was so kind and warm and lovely, she made us her own special tea… And she taught me to plant a garden. She took me out behind our house one day during her visit, and we cleared a bit of earth, and we sowed some seeds, and she told me all about the different colors that would sprout – silver and gold and ruby and all that. She never spoke much about herself, my Auntie, but in the evenings, I asked my parents all about her, and they told me what they could. She’d come from very far away, they said, and she’d been to many places and seen many things. I asked, ‘What kinds of things?’ And they replied, ‘Things that you would have to see for yourself to believe.’
“Finally, the day came when she had to leave; and the flowers in our little garden hadn’t come up yet. Oh, was I upset! I stamped my hooves and cried and sniffled. My parents told me to quiet down, pull myself together so I could say goodbye to my aunt. But Auntie only smiled down at me with that lovely smile of hers. And then, as if by magic, she held in her hoof the tiniest, most intricate little blue rose I’d ever seen in my life. And then she left. And then… I had my cutie mark.”
Lily closed her eyes, smiling in the light skipping off the surface of the river. Star Swirl looked at her. She sighed.
“I probably still have that rose around somewhere,” she said, opening her eyes, “pressed between the pages of a book. It’s not the most exciting story. But it’s mine.”
There was quiet. Lily turned to Star Swirl, the river lingering in her eyes. “Sorry,” she said. “I know, I talk too much.”
“No, Lily.” Star Swirl met her gaze. “Of course you don’t. Not at all.”
“And what about you, Star Swirl?” Lily picked up Star Swirl’s hat, toying with the pointy bit. “I’ve done more than enough talking for one walk. How did things begin for you?”
Star Swirl looked off over the river, up into the void of the sky. “Oh, my beginnings weren’t so wonderful as all that…”
Lily put down the hat. “Surely, there must be a reason. For you, for your magical studies. I’ve never known passion to pop right out of thin air.”
Star Swirl did not smile.
“It was not a…harmonious beginning,” he said. “I was so very young back then. I had always been strange to the other little ponies. And I will not lie to you, Lily; they were strange to me. My parents were concerned for me. I began to cultivate what I felt was my greatest talent – magic. It wasn’t long before… Before every pony realized just how different I was. My mother wanted nothing more than to help me. And then… and then there was my father.
“I don’t remember much of my father. Even before he left, I didn’t see much of him. He avoided me, you see. Me, my Problem, my magic… he was a traditional stallion, an earth pony, and he was appalled with me. My mother tried to make him see otherwise. He could not, and he left.
“I can do many things with magic, Lily. I suppose that I’ve always tried to… to make things right with magic. I’m not sure I ever will.”
Star Swirl took a breath and turned back to Lily. Her smile was gone. Her eyes glistened. Star Swirl could not bear that, and he looked away again.
“Please, Lily, no pity,” he said. “It is such an awful thing, pity. I think I’d rather be a colt of action. As they say: If magic is not the answer, then no answer exists."
Lily’s voice was quiet. “Is that what they say?” she said.
Something in her voice, the fragility of it, the honest plainness of the question, wrenched him. He blinked away a veil. “It’s what… some unicorns say…”
He could not contain himself, and he turned back to her, and their eyes met again, both of them trying so hard to understand.
“Lily,” he said, “… I am working on a spell.”
“A spell? What kind of a spell?”
“I’ve been laboring on it for years now. It’s something to solve my… my Problem.”
Lily just looked on for a moment. Then she slowly nodded. “I see,” she said. “Your… Problem…”
She reached out and took Star Swirl’s hoof in hers.
Star Swirl felt the pressure on his hoof, and something told him to pull away, but he could not. He could not even look away from her eyes.
“Listen to me, Star Swirl,” Lily said. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that you feel as if you’ve lived separate from the world. I’m sorry for whatever Problem you think you have. But I should tell you, Star… You don’t need a spell to find your place in the world. And there isn’t a problem in all of existence that can’t be solved without another pony’s help.”
She smiled a small, tender smile. “If you need any help,” she said, “… I can be there, if you’d like.”
Star Swirl tried to measure himself, to keep his head high, but still the tears came. He tried not to shake. Lily extended her other hoof.
And the two of them embraced.
Star Swirl’s storm raged inside him. He blinked, he swallowed, he fought for breath. “Lily…”
“Yes, Star?”
“It’s just… It’s only…”
Star Swirl gently pulled away. And they faced each other again. Star Swirl managed a smile.
“Thank you, Lily,” he said, ashamed of his tears, and glad for them. “No pony has said that to me before. I can be there, too, if you need me. In any way I can be. I am just… so very grateful to have met you.”
And they embraced each other again.
Lily and Star Swirl stayed there for some time, under that lonely maple on the riverside. And somehow, they both knew something had happened that was very, very right.