TAGS: [Slice of Life] [Sad]
A storm howled through Canterlot on Hearth’s Warming Eve. It was the result of an unfortunate scheduling flub that would no doubt get some poor bureaucrat fired the following day. The gales were strong and the snow was heavy. Ponies were stranded with the relatives they were visiting. No trains moved, and any airships that took flight would be dashed against the side of the mountain.
All was cold. Except where it was not.
A light shined bright from a window in downtown Canterlot. The hearth inside was warm, as were the smiles on its caretakers’ faces. Cookies were eaten as stories of old were shared.
The sign outside said “Homely House,” and you were very welcome.
Luna flipped her clipboard end-over-end in midair, her face blank. It had been a good three hours since the last ascended pony had trotted through the ethereal, higher-plane-of-existence, who-exactly-cares-what-it-is alicorn welcome center. It had been a good three weeks since they had experienced a real boom of new royals.
She turned to Celestia, who was reposing on a nearby lawn chair with a cup of iced tea in hoof. “This is not how I imagined spending my Hearth’s Warming Eve."
Celestia pushed her sunglasses onto her forehead. “Give it a few more minutes, Luna. I’ll take an hour of relaxation over ten minutes of nothing but ascensions as far as the eye can see.”
“Verily, it hath been three.”
“Details.” Celestia waved a hoof and settled her sunglasses over her eyes. “You’ll have to excuse me for ignoring them for once in my life.”
“A dangerous pastime, that,” Luna mumbled. “Very well, a few minutes more.”
Her clipboard vanished into thin air, and a cup of fresh-brewed coffee appeared in its place. She blew the steam away and took a dainty sip. “We must award Donut Joe a medal one of these days.”
“Prince Donut Joe,” Celestia corrected. “He ascended a few months ago, you remember.”
“Aye.” Luna felt a tiny smirk arrest her features. “Mayhap you should just marry him and be done with it, then.”
Celestia sat up with a start. “Wha—?”
“Lo, he shall not propose with a wedding ring,” Luna chuckled, “but a glazed doughnut!”
“Delicious though his donuts may be…” Celestia refilled her tea and adjusted her seat. “I think you’re being a little silly.”
“Alas, a chocolate-frosted love that can never be!”
“Hmm.” Celestia made herself comfy once more. “Does this give me permission to tease you about a certain bright-red farmer?”
Luna’s cheeks heated. “Aha. Let us not be too hasty.”
“The flowing mane”—Celestia stuck out a hoof—“the strong legs, the tasteful cutie mark!”
Luna pouted. “You are enjoying this a might too much.”
“Eeyup,” Celestia said with a grin.
A flash of light stole their attentions. It was some distance away, at least as far as distance registered in the mystic realm. Coffee, tea, and lawn chair vanished as Luna’s clipboard reappeared. Moving pictures zipped by as Celestia spread her wings and raised a regal hoof. “My little pony, congratulations on your ahh… Huh?”
Luna hadn’t been watching the new arrival so much as she had been watching the moving images fly past. She wasn’t sure what, but something seemed just a wee bit off. As she turned to see what had surprised her sister, that particular something came clear. None of the pictures had shown their ascendee to be any older than a small foal.
The principal reason being that the new princess did not yet have a cutie mark.
“Well,” Luna muttered, “this is new.”
She was a small, purplish filly with a pink mane. Her horn was tiny, and her wingspan barely looked wide enough for her to fly. She looked up with wet, fearful, blue eyes. She gasped as the princesses registered in her memory, and she dipped into a hasty bow.
“There is no need for that, little one,” Celestia said in a small, hushed voice. She traded a quick glance with Luna and lowered her head to the filly. “What is your name?”
The alicorn filly looked up and mouthed something inaudible.
“It is alright,” Celestia said. “All will be well. What is your name?”
“Eh—Ember,” the filly squeaked. “Me name is Ember. Your Majesties”
“Ember…” Luna knelt down beside the filly and smiled as best she could. “Can you tell us how you came by these… how you came by your new additions?”
Ember buried her head in her hooves. Luna looked up at Celestia, who gave a slight shrug. “Ember,” Celestia said, “would you perhaps like something nice to eat?”
That got the filly’s attention. She poked one blue eye outside of the protective barrier of her hooves.
Celestia smiled. “We have a chef at the castle who can cook up anything you’d like to eat. Anything at all.”
Ember got to her feet and tilted her head. “Am I dead?”
Celestia couldn’t help the bark of laughter she had. “No, of course not! You have just ascended to the status of alicornhood! You are a new princess of Equestria!”
Ember’s eyes widened even further than Luna thought they were capable of. “Y-you mean et?” the filly gasped.
“Yes, my little pony,” Celestia chuckled. “I mean it.”
Ember grinned as she spun around, as if looking for somepony. Luna watched as her grin waned and fell. She looked back up at her two sovereigns with a furrowed brow. “Did… were there any oother princesses t’day?”
Luna shook her head. “Nay, not for a least three hours. Even then, thou art the only girl we have seen today.”
Ember’s ears drooped. Plummeted, really. Her shoulders sagged alongside her wings.
Celestia placed a hoof in the filly’s back. “Let us get a bite to eat, and then you can tell us about your story, hmm?”
Ember said nothing, but allowed herself to be led out of the alicorn welcome center.
Luna raised an eyebrow as they teleported away. “Shoo-be-doo, but this shall be interesting.”
Sue Chef hovered around the back of Ember’s chair as the filly picked at the food laid out before her. The chef prided herself in being able to guess a pony’s favorite food based on a mere few minutes of conversation. Sue found herself mildly frustrated at this customer, due to the fact that Ember hadn’t said a word since her arrival in the palace.
So Sue guessed.
And she guessed, and she guessed, and she guessed.
And still, Ember did not “dig in.”
“I don’t understand it!” Sue groaned. “She’s thin as a rail; she should be ravaging that table by now!”
Mounds of food lay before the child. Istallion food, potatoes in the style of Prance, green leaves from the highest of Joshua trees… She’d brought all her culinary guns to bear.
She stuck two spoons in Ember’s mouth and pulled it open. “Are you ill, child?” she asked as she took a gander.
“Sue…” Celestia gently removed the spoons from both mouth and hooves. “Please leave her be.”
Sue Chef gave her sovereign a nod. “Very well. But if she wastes away to nothing, on your own head be it!” She trotted away with a hiked tail and a raised snout.
Celestia leaned over Ember. “You know, this food is very, very good.” She levitated a spoon to her mouth and sucked on a dollop of pudding. “Mm. You should try some!”
“B-beggin’ yer pardon,” Ember whispered, “boot I cannae eat. I cannae—”
She fell silent. Celestia set down the spoon with a sigh. “Whatever is troubling you, Ember, I promise I will do everything I can to help you.”
When the filly said no more, Celestia stood. “You’ll be staying in the castle until we can contact your family.” She cocked her ear in hopes of catching a word or two. “We could find them a lot faster if you told us who they are.”
Ember didn’t look at her. Celestia pursed her lips. “You’re sure to have pleasant dreams tonight, with Luna guarding them.”
“May I go to bed?” Ember asked.
Celestia glanced out the window; the sun had sunk beneath the horizon some time before. “I don’t see why not.”
She nodded to a guard. “Stonewall, would you escort Princess Ember to a guest room?”
The royal guardspony raised her hoof in a salute. “Yes, Marm.”
Celestia walked down the hallways, alone. Her brow furrowed in thought. She heard hoofsteps racing up behind her and pointedly ignored them.
“Princess Celestia,” a stallion called out. “Oh, Princess Celestia! I must have a word with you!”
Celestia sighed. “Must you?” she asked without turning around.
Kibitz, the elderly Royal Scheduling Advisor, gasped as he pulled up alongside her. “Your Majesty, your schedules are piling up! Fancy Pants is filing a restraining order against Discord, Fillydelphia is requesting your presence for a theater’s grand opening, and Bluemane wishes to speak with you about the budget!”
Celestia rolled her eyes. “Kibitz, take a note, please.”
Kibitz produced a scroll. He levitated it before his face. “At your word, Your Majesty.”
“Fancy Pants,” she said, “I’m afraid that we cannot restrain a force of nature. We can, however, explain to him that he should leave you alone. If we get Fluttershy to deliver the message, I’m sure the draconequus will restrict himself to covering your house with toilet paper on Nightmare Night.”
Kibitz wrote swiftly and franticly as Her Royal Highness continued. “To the Ponies of Fillydelphia, I am sorry that I will be unable to attend the opening ceremony. I will, however, be delighted to attend a show at some point in the near future.”
Celestia pursed her lips. “Leave the note on my desk so that I may sign and date it.”
Kibitz’s moustache bounced as he nodded. “And the matter of Prince Bluemane?”
“I’ll deal with my nephew.” Celestia stretched her wings. “Where is he now?”
“I believe he is supping on the west balcony, Your Majesty,” Kibitz said.
“Thank you, Kibitz,” Celestia said. She flew away, leaving the Royal Scheduling Advisor to enjoy his much-more structured day.
She hovered before one of the castle’s larger windows. She could see the west balcony in the distance, with its lovingly-carved railing and its myriad tables, looming large against the side of the mountain. The snow fell and the wind howled, but a protective barrier shielded the actual balcony from the cold. With a flash of her horn, she teleported herself into a sea of astonished admirers and hopeful politicians.
“I’m here to see Bluemane,” she said. Most of the crowd dispersed, only a few remaining to ask her just one favor or, more politely, to point the way. She ignored the former and thanked the latter as she moved around tables and ponies.
She took a seat across from an older stallion. His silvery-bluish mane swished around his shoulders as he looked up from a corncob. “Aunt Celestia. It is an honor to meet with you.”
“It doesn’t happen as often as it used to, does it?” Celestia looked up as a nervous waitress skittered into view. “Just a glass of orange juice, please.”
Bluemane swallowed a bite. “Trying something besides coffee?”
“It’s not that, so much.” Celestia ruffled her wings. “I would just like to actually get a hint of sleep tonight.” Her eyebrows lowered. “And I would like to get a hint about why the budget sits so heavy on your mind.”
Prince Bluemane looked to the left and right. He leaned conspiratorially across the table. “There’ve been rumors of a new ascension.”
“Hardly surprising in this day and age,” Celestia said. “Your point?”
“A special ascension,” Bluemane whispered. “A blank-flank ascension.”
Celestia resisted her lip’s urge to scowl. Instead, she pressed her lips together. Firmly. “Who blabbed?”
“I overheard Sue Chef talking with one of the maids.” Bluemane looked off to the side as he thought. “Lacy, I think. I would have asked her directly if Stonewall hadn’t walked into the room.” He shrugged. “You know how she is with rumors.”
“I know how I am with rumors,” Celestia said. She narrowed her glare. “And this one stops immediately, do you understand?”
Bluemane’s gray face paled a shade. “Um, yes, Your Majesty. Auntie.”
Celestia leaned back as the waitress nearly dropped her orange juice in her lap. “Easy, my little pony. Thank you.” She sipped at her glass. “What does the new ascension have to do with the budget?”
Prince Bluemane tapped his hooves together. “I’m sure you’ve heard the other rumors.”
“About how I’m raising an army of alicorns to take over the world?” Celestia took a gulp of juice. “I like the political cartoons about that one. Very silly.”
“N-no.” Bluemane shook his head, images of little alicorn warriors scattering from his mind. “The one about how you’re going to place the country into a depression paying for all these coronations.”
Celestia blinked. She leaned back. “Explain.”
“Well, all these coronations can’t be cheap.” Bluemane took a bite of his corn. “Not even when we did the whole assembly-line thing a while back. And believe me, there were complaints from the nobility before, but… Now it seems like anypony can ascend. Even blank-flanks! How many will ascend? We’ll be drained dry by immortals!”
Celestia leaned to the side as the waitress dribbled orange juice on her seat amidst efforts to refill her glass. She sighed as a couple of very-nervous hooves clutched very-damp napkins. “Bluemane, are my personal accounts at all tied with the royal coffers?”
“Um…” Bluemane’s ear tipped down. “Not at all, no.”
“Right.” Celestia downed her orange juice in a single gulp. “Now, how rich am I?”
Bluemane sucked on his lower lip. “The adjectives ‘filthy’ and ‘stinking’ come to mind.”
Celestia nodded. “It comes from centuries of buying land, selling it, gathering a princess’ salary, and frugal saving.” She waved away the waitress’ attempted third refill. “Plus a really, really nice interest rate from the bank. And a thousand years of birthday presents.”
Celestia leaned forward. “Now, how much of that do you suppose it takes to purchase a crown?”
“Um—”
“A fraction of a percent.” Celestia tapped the table. “I’ve paid for every single coronation out of my own pocket. Has this fact escaped the nobilities’ collective brains?”
“Well…” Bluemane shrugged, his hooves held akimbo. “Not every coronation. Blueblood’s—”
“Your son paid for his coronation out of his pocket.” Celestia’s eye twitched. “Though I did help clean up the robot parts.”
Bluemane inhaled slowly. “And the blank-flank?”
“I’ll speak to her parents about it.” Celestia stood and extended her wings. “Until then, she’ll be staying with me.”
Bluemane hugged his forelegs around himself. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell the nobles?”
“I want you to do it this time,” Celestia said. “All you need to do is say that I’m paying out of pocket.”
Bluemane sighed. “I don’t—”
“Please, Nephew.” Celestia placed a hoof on his shoulder. “Stretch yourself. Just this once.”
Bluemane turned his eyes to the ground. “Yes, Aunt Celestia. I’ll try.”
Celestia smiled and placed a kiss on her nephew’s forehead. She was about to take off when Bluemane hailed her. “Be careful out there! The pegasi have gone all out with their winter storm!”
She turned, winked, and then disappeared in a blink.
Luna sat beneath the bell in her observatory. Mirrors lined the walls, in each of which was reflected a dream. Though the dreams seemed randomly selected, they were sorted by level of activity. And anxiety. The most frantic flashed into view long enough for Luna to decide whether she was needed to interfere.
The Nightmares tended to be the most violent dreams. They always held a firm spot in the queue.
Luna stared at the mirrors. The light of her moon shone through her small balcony’s doorway, giving her a cool sense of peace.
Her coat stood on end as she sensed fear. Her ears stood straight up as she caught sight of an anguished, wailing filly in one mirror. “I know that face. Ember!”
She shut her eyes and focused. When she opened them, she found herself in the Unencumbered Unconscious; “Dreamland” in layman’s terms. It was a blank plane, much like the alicorn welcome center. Unlike that endless expanse of emptiness, this realm was filled to the brim with stars.
Each star was a dream.
Most twinkled brightly as the ponies within dreamed pleasant dreams, or at least dreams that wouldn’t lead to a few years of therapy. There was one, on the other hoof, that flashed a violent red. Luna made a beeline for this dream, her mouth a grim line.
She touched the dream with her hoof. She was immediately overcome with a sense of cold. Chill. Ice. Frostbite. It combined with the fear to form an intense cocktail of unpleasantness.
She lowered the hoof, squared her stance, and then touched the tip of her horn to the dream.
Luna shook her wings, breaking the layer of ice that coated them. Shards flew from her feathers as she flapped. She sniffed back the snot that threatened to freeze on the end of her nose. She blinked bits of frost out of her eyes and looked around.
Her world was ice. Giant icicles, stretching for the sky. Stalactites, reaching for the ground. Snow everywhere. No sun, no moon, just black and white.
And then there was the small, purple filly who lay in a snowdrift.
Ember stared at a block of ice sitting a few feet away. Sobs wracked the girl’s body, and her tears froze on her cheeks. She didn’t look up as Luna approached, nor as the princess took a seat beside her.
Luna put a hoof on the filly’s back. “It will be alright, my little pony. I am here to help.”
“Y-ye cannae help. Ye cannae help.” Ember wiped her eyes on her foreleg. “Et’s all gone wrong.”
“I know…” Luna bit her lip. “I can feel that you’re angry. I can feel that you’re afraid. But you don’t have to be afraid alone.”
“But ye dinnae un’erstand why!” Ember gasped. “There’s nae fixin’ this! There’s nae makin’ it better!”
“I promise,” Luna said, “that my sister and I shall do anything and everything in our power to help you.”
“Sh-she’s dead!” Ember choked out. She pointed at the block of ice as more of her tears froze. “She’s dead an’ et’s all my fault an’ I got to be an alicorn an’ she dinnae an’ et’s not fair!”
Luna looked close. A shade of something other than white could be seen deep within the cube. It was sort of a lighter orange.
Ember buried her face in her hooves. Her horn glowed. “And ye cannae fix et.”
Luna blinked as she came awake. She looked about her in a daze for a moment, before ringing the bell with a tug of her magic. Several Royal Guards entered her observatory and saluted. “Your Majesty?”
“To the guest room,” Luna said. “Number five. I fear for the filly inside.”
She turned to one guard. “I need you to get Celestia. She’ll want to be there for this.”
They galloped through the castle, passing through hallways and galleries. After nearly trampling some poor servant or another, Luna took to the air. They met Celestia at the room in less than five minutes.
“Is something wrong with Ember?” Celestia asked.
Luna walked up to the door. “She had a bad dream. I tried to help her, but she kicked me out.”
Celestia gave her sister a double-take. “She kicked you out? Ponies can do that?”
“Ember can.” Luna paused with her hoof on the door handle. “Celestia, she is far more distraught than we had thought.” She looked Celestia in the eye. “You know what can happen when an alicorn gets upset.”
Celestia’s mouth made tiny, mute movements. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
Luna nodded, and then pushed the door open.
The bed sat unmade in the middle of the room. The cute little vanity, with its simple brushes and glistening mirror, lay untouched. The window had been thrown open, letting in the howling gale.
There was an utter lack of little filly in the room.
Snow had collected beneath the window sill. Celestia’s hoof crunched against it as she stared out into the night. Luna came up beside her, her eyes wide. “Wh-what should we do?”
“We find her.” Celestia gritted her teeth. “We can’t stop the storm, but we sure as hay can brave it.”
Lightning Dust was already sick of snow. She shouldered aside a cumulonimbus as she cleared a pathway through the dark Canterlot skies. She then punted it all the way to Ponyville for good measure. “’Cuz cuss Ponyville, that’s why.”
She shivered as she touched down on a nearby rooftop. She snorted and pushed a heap of snow off of the roof. She watched it fall, noting with mild annoyance that there was nopony passing by below to get buried by the airborne snowdrift. “Stupid Rainbow Dash and her stupid friendship stupidness.”
She opened a nearby skylight and slipped in. The air inside the building was only slightly warmer than outside, but it was still something. She snorted as she approached a hearth, where a few dim embers glowed within. The sound of contended snores came from a nearby busted couch.
She tilted the couch forward, sending its payload tumbling onto the hardwood floor. That payload rose to its feet, revealing a colt covered in a heavy, stallion-sized coat. “Oy!? Who’s there!?”
Lightning Dust leaped nimbly over the back of the couch and made herself comfortable. “It’s just me, Artful. Go stir the coals, will yah?”
“Fine way to say ‘hullo,’” Artful mumbled. He grasped a poker in his teeth and set about sticking it in the remains of the fire. “Hardly expected you to come back.”
“Can’t stay away,” Lightning said. “I’m too afraid that you’re gonna get everypony killed.”
Artful tossed a small log into the hearth. “Well, imagine moi delight to have a visit from a highfaluting alicorn princess. Thankee, Majesty.”
“You’re gonna be eating that poker, Dodger.” Lightning Dust stretched out, careful not to poke her horn into the couch’s armrest. “Besides, shouldn’t Ember be working the fire? I thought that was kinda her thing.”
“Ain’t heard a peep,” Artful Dodger said. “But then, oi’ve been asleep.”
He set a hat upon his head. It used to be a stovepipe hat, before years of wear and tear turned it into something of an accordion. The top of the hat flapped open as he turned his head. “Ember! Where’ve you got to? Amber? Either of you?”
Lightning Dust stood and unfurled her wings. “Stay here, I’ll get them.”
It was a very small house. It had two rooms, an upper and lower. The walls were thin. It was sparsely furnished.
It didn’t take long to realize that it was empty.
Lightning Dust zipped back to Artful Dodger and grasped his oversized collar. “Where in the cuss are they, Artful!? You were supposed to watch them!”
“Oi dunno! Oi dunno!” Artful Dodger’s eyes jumped around the room. “Th-they said somethin’ about goin’ to the Homely House for Hearth’s Warming, but oi told ’em the storm was too dangerous!”
“Cuss right it’s too dangerous!” She rose into the air with Artful tucked under her foreleg. “That’s why we’re going out to find them!”
She opened the skylight and was met with a blast of winter wind. She tossed Artful Dodger onto the roof, and then followed him up with a snort. “How long have they been gone!?” she shouted over the wind.
“Oi dunno!” Artful adjusted his hat and buttoned his coat. “Maybe three hours?”
“That’s too long!” She put her hooves on his shoulders and shook. “You—you start walking towards the Homely House. I’ll take a look from the sky!”
“Can oi at least get a lift to the ground?” he asked.
There was a scream as Artful Dodger tumbled off of the roof. He landed in the snow bank Lightning Dust had shoveled onto the ground. He rose and shook himself free of flakes. “Fat lot of help you are!”
“Shut up and find the girls!” Lightning Dust screeched. She soared off into the distance, her wings battling against the elements.
Artful raised his collar, pulled his hat down, and began a long trudge through the snow. “Stupid Hearth’s Warming.”
Lightning Dust’s sweeping search pattern over the city was met with buffeting wind, blistering hail, and many, many cusses. Her eyes stung, and she wished for the foresight to have worn goggles from Cloudsdale. Above her, the sky was bitter gray. Beneath her, the land was nothing but black and white.
Except for that little dash of purple on that little rooftop.
She dove at the colored dot, bringing her wings tight against her body. She weaved as the wind threatened to grip her, but she was going too far too fast for it to do any more than bug her. She opened her wings at just the right moment to pull her up in an arc, and she settled down beside the small filly in a flurry of snow. “Okay, how’d a unicorn get all the way… up… here?”
Lightning Dust looked down as Ember looked up. She blinked as the girl unfurled two petite wings. “When did that happen?”
Ember buried her face in Lightning Dust’s chest. “I dunno! I dunno why!”
Lightning wrapped her forelegs around Ember. “Whoa, hay, hay. I, uh…”
“She’s gone!” Ember cried. “Amber’s gone!”
Lightning Dust blinked at the filly in her embrace. Her mouth hung open as she hesitantly patted the girl’s back. “Em, what happened?”
Tears froze to Ember’s cheeks as she spoke.
“Cam on, Amber!” Ember pulled her ratty scarf tighter around her neck. Her legs grew numb as she cantered through the snow. “W-we gorra keep moving.”
Two fillies walked through the dark side streets of Canterlot. Snow fell in blankets, chilling them to their bones. The taller, purplish filly wrapped a foreleg around the smaller, light-orange one’s shoulders. “Dinnae worry Amber, the Homely House’ll be oopen. I’m sure of et!”
“W-will they have Hearthswarming Eve cookies?” Amber asked. She shivered as she pulled a wet leg out of a snow bank.
“Oodles,” Ember said. She tugged Amber’s coat back, though it still refused to cover the smaller girl’s rear. “Why, I heard that the Lady Rarity brought up a whole box of ’em. All the way froom Ponyville!”
Amber stumbled. Ember caught her and held her steady.
“I like the Lady Rarity,” Amber mumbled. Her eyelids drooped. “She’s nice.”
“N-now you stay with me.” Ember grasped the smaller filly’s face in her hooves. “Et’s oonly a bit more, see? Joost need to stay awake.”
Snow crunched underfoot as they made their ponderous way through the snow. Amber rubbed a foreleg over her runny nose. “We should have stayed.”
“No!” Ember nudged the other filly onward. “Um, Artful disnae like Hearth’s Warming. We dinnae want to be a boother.”
Amber stared blankly ahead. She shook her head and blinked. “Why doesn’t Artful like Hearth’s Warming?”
“Noone of oour business,” Ember said.
“Oh.” Amber looked down at her hooves. “I don’t feel as cold as before.”
Ember’s ears stood straight up. “Amber…” She swiveled her head. Their destination was maybe twenty steps away. “Et… Et’s joost a little farther.”
“But I’m sleepy.” Amber tilted on her right hooves. “Wanna…”
She flopped over into the snow.
Ember screeched. She pulled Amber’s legs, dragging her closer to the Homely House. She lost feeling in her lips. She looked up, and saw movement on the other side of the house’s window. She stumbled up to the door and tripped on a loose stone. She knocked.
There was no answer.
She knocked harder, faster. She pounded against the door with all her might. She sobbed as she leaned against the door, her strength spent.
She heard footsteps trotting up to the door. A voice said, “Who would be out in this awful row?”
Ember’s eyes dimmed. She couldn’t speak. She looked back and saw that Amber lay ten steps away, out of the sightline of anypony who opened the door.
She was, however, right in line with the window.
Ember concentrated on her horn, picked up the loose stone in her telekinesis, and chucked it at the window. She tumbled off of the stoop into a snow bank, and fell asleep to the sound of glass shattering.
“Why did I get to be an alicorn and she died!?” Ember wailed. “Et isnae fair!”
Frost collected on Lightning Dust’s mane. She licked her lips. “Wh-what in the heck were you two doing out!? Artful told you it was dangerous!”
Ember pushed away from Lightning Dust. “I, I joost wanted to be brave like you! An’, an’ nae afraid!”
“Nae smart, either!” Lightning Dust extended her wings as her ears lay flat against her head. “I don’t do something I know will get me killed!”
“Y-ye do, too!” Ember’s horn flared. “Ye say so all the time!”
A bolt of magic shot from Ember’s horn. It hit Lightning Dust’s chest with kinetic force, blowing her back into a chimney. Ember threw her hooves over her mouth and screamed. “Lightning! I dinnae mean to! I dinnae mean to!”
“I’m okay!” Lightning Dust shouted. She teetered to her feet. “I’m fine. It’s okay. It was an accident.”
She bit her lip, then held her forelegs out to Ember. “Just an accident.”
Ember ran into her embrace. They shivered together on the rooftop. Lightning Dust sighed. “This… this is all just a big, dumb, stupid accident.”
“No it’s not, my little ponies.”
Princess Celestia’s white body blended in with the howling snow. Only her eyes and her pastel mane stood out against it. “I have to believe that this happened with a purpose.”
Lightning Dust shifted her body around so that she was between Celestia and Ember. “Wh-what do you want?”
Celestia pressed her lips together. “I want to make sure that Ember is safe.”
“W-well good for you.” Lightning Dust hugged the filly tighter. “She’s safe. You can go now.”
“Lightning Dust, I’m so sorry for the way I treated you,” Celestia said. The corners of her mouth turned down, and her eyes strained. “I just want to help.”
“Y-you wanna help?” Lightning Dust asked. “D-don’t applaud, just throw money.”
“Fine,” Celestia said, breathless. “I’ll throw money. I’ll throw in my time, too. She is a very special filly, Lightning Dust.”
“I know!” Lightning said. “I’ve known all along!” She shook some of the snow out of her mane. “But—but with you it takes some cataclysmic crud to bring you down out of your shiny little castle with the normal ponies!”
Celestia’s wings flared. “I do what I can!”
“You do what you want!” Lightning Dust screamed.
“Shut up!” Ember howled. She glared at the two princesses in turn. She sniffed. “Et disnae matter.”
She slumped on the rooftop. “I dinnae matter.”
Lightning Dust stood. “You—You cut that kinda talk out, do you hear me? You’re important, Ember! You’re important to me, and Artful, and… and…” She stole a glance at the sovereign beside her. “And Celestia.”
Celestia looked at Lightning Dust. She tilted her head to the small filly, her eyes pleading. Lightning sucked in a breath, shut her eyes, and nodded.
Celestia lay down next to Ember and wrapped a wing around her. “Ember, you’ve done something nopony has ever done before. Several somethings, now. You have the makings of greatness in you. I’ll help you find that greatness.”
“But…” Ember shook her head. “But ye cannae bring Amber back.”
Celestia stared into the storm. Hot tears burned behind her eyes. “No, I can—”
“Sister!” a voice called out. “Sister! Have you found Ember?”
Celestia sighed. “Yes, Luna! I’ve found her.”
Luna landed on the rooftop, a small smile on her face. Artful Dodger jumped off of her back, his eyes spinning. “The ragamuffin and I have found something, Ember,” Luna said. “Something wonderful. Would you like to see?”
Ember sniffed. “Found what?”
Luna’s eyes twinkled. “A lighthouse in the storm.”
Rarity tucked the quilt tighter around the little orange filly. She placed a small kiss on her forehead. “Wake up, Amber. You have visitors.”
Amber opened her eyes. She was met with the fairly frightening sight of three alicorn princesses hovering over her bed. “Hi,” she squeaked.
“Amber!” Ember said. She crawled up on the bed beside Amber. “You’re okay!”
She looked up at Rarity. “Is she gonna be okay?”
“Oh, of course, dear.” Rarity smiled, her eyes turning to the princesses. “She’ll be fine. She just needs a bit of rest and recuperation.”
She stood and walked around the bed. She bowed to Celestia. “It’s a bit of a miracle, Your Majesties. If somepony hadn’t thrown a rock through the window, we’d have never found the poor filly.”
Ember lay beside Amber and nuzzled her mane. “I’m sorry, Amber.”
“I… It’s like you said,” Amber muttered. “We’re spending Hearth’s Warming at the Homely House.”
Rarity walked towards the door. “Your Majesties”—she looked at Lightning Dust with a raised brow—“Your Highness, would you like to join in the festivities? I can’t imagine you’d like to fly back to the castle in this muck.”
Luna looked up to her sister. Celestia smiled. “We would love to.”
Lightning Dust sat and stared at the two fillies on the bed. “Thanks. I’m just gonna sit here with them for a while.”
“Of course,” Rarity said.
The three of them entered a larger room than the bedroom. A cloth covered the window, which billowed occasionally in the wind. The sound of accordion music drowned out the buffeting winds, and the smell of warm cookies brought smiles to a myriad of faces. Ponies old and young gathered around the hearth, either talking amongst themselves, or listening to Cheese Sandwich play the night away.
Rarity gasped and spun on Artful Dodger. “Excuse me, young ruffian! Put my necklace back this instant! Honestly!”
Luna leaned over the colt with a grin on her muzzle. “You’d best do as she says, Ragamuffin. One does not tangle with the Bearer of the Element of Generosity.”
Artful Dodger raised an eyebrow. “Ragamuffin?” He tipped his hat, produced the necklace, and slunk away.
Rarity slid the fire ruby necklace around her neck and sniffed. “Some ponies. Honestly.”
Rarity smiled at Celestia. “While we’re on the subject of generosity, Cheese and I are very grateful for your latest donation. I think the Homely House is an unmitigated success.” She looked over the room as ponies danced and leaned on her hoof. “I just wish I could be here more often.”
“You do what you can, Rarity.” Celestia nuzzled the unicorn. “Thank you.”
Rarity trotted off, perhaps to greet another pony, perhaps to prevent her sister from eating a twentieth cookie. Celestia sat at the back of the small crowd and bounced to the beat of the song. “So, Luna, what have we learned today?”
“I suspect is has something to do with Hearth’s Warming?” Luna chugged a cup of hot cocoa. She blew steam out of her nose. “And miracles?”
“Play us another one, Mr. Sandwich!” one filly called out. The pony with the accordion laughed as he started up an upbeat song. It was rather silly, something about stomping weasels or daring stupidity or something like that.
“Most likely,” Celestia said. “But also that sacrificing yourself for another is powerful, powerful magic.”
Luna tilted her head towards her sister. “You believe that is what triggered Ember’s ascension?”
“It could be little else.” Celestia shrugged. “Unless there’s call for a Princess of Busted Windows.”
“Well, give it a few years,” Luna said. “There’s bound to be somepony down the line.”
“Ha.” Celestia levitated a mug from across the room. “Maybe one day, if the world grows silly enough.”
She raised her mug to Luna. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Sister.”
Luna clinked their mugs together. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Celestia.”
Lightning Dust walked up to the bed and laid her chin on top of it, her cheeks damp. Ember laid her chin on Amber’s back. The alicorn filly looked up at the alicorn mare. “Lightning?”
“Yeah, kid?”
“Thanks for being my sister.”
“Sure thing,” Lightning choked.
Ember drifted off to sleep, and Lightning Dust wept.