When they reached the river, it was a mess of frothing waters. The river serpent responsible was pacified by Rarity’s tail, of all things. As she and her friends crossed to the other side, Pinkie was torn between admiration at the classy pony’s sacrifice, and confusion at the classy river serpent’s lack of Everfree savagery. Still, she’d take whatever breaks she could get.
At the gorge, Dash was quick to fly over and repair the bridge. The ponies were concerned when strange pegasi in dark flight suits confronted her, and even more so when a mysterious fog muffled their attempts to pull her from the distraction. Luckily, Dash soon returned in a rush of wings, proclaiming that she would “never leave her friends hanging.”
“Not bad, Dash,” Pinkie said under her breath, making sure not to be the first to set hoof on the bridge. “Not bad.” But the question of where those pegasi had come from in the first place nibbled at her mind.
In the castle, Pinkie did her best to subtly lead the others to the stone Elements. As this effort was made up of saying “I think we should go this way” multiple times, she couldn’t be sure just how effective this subtlety was, but since they got there in the end, she chalked it up as a success.
“There’s supposed to be a spark when the sixth Element appears.” Twilight pondered on this. “A spark of magic, maybe? Let’s see what I can do.”
She closed her eyes, and her horn lit with an aura that soon enveloped the Elements. The others stood back as the stone spheres lifted into the air, slowly revolving in a circle around her.
Pinkie examined a hoof. It felt a little less heavy.
“How precious.” Star-studded fog descended on the concentrating unicorn, blotting out the moonlight. “But this can’t go on. I’m sure you understand.”
Twilight’s eyes shot open. “What—?”
With a flash, they were gone — the unicorn, the nightmare, and the Elements.
There was a moment of shocked silence. Then, all at once, the ponies panicked.
“Oh my goodness.” Fluttershy stared at the recently vacated space. “Oh my goodness, oh my goodness …”
“Where’d they go?” Dash examined the slick burn mark on the floor, hackles raised. “She can’t just take Twilight! That’s cheating!”
“Hush!” Pinkie cocked an ear, listening. “I can hear something.”
It took a moment, as a pale Applejack had to pull Rarity from the brink of hyperventilation, but soon quiet descended as they concentrated. Somewhere, further in the castle, they heard a faint hum like unicorn magic, followed by a distant crash.
“We can still find her!” Pinkie darted out of the room, looking up and down the hall before settling on a direction. “Hurry, everypony!”
As she rushed on, pausing only to decide where next to turn, she somewhat registered her other friends struggling to catch up. Her eyes roved over everything as she ran, searching for signs of danger: a glance across the floor, to the ceiling, to either wall, to the scattered objects lying around.
They passed through a spacious court, lit by starlight through an open roof. Faded tapestries hung from the walls in otherwise near-perfect condition, speaking of a glory that once illuminated these chambers.
Pinkie turned to another passage, then jumped as a flash lit up from the top of a set of stairs. “This way!” she called, bounding along. “Don’t worry, Twilight! We’re coming!”
“Yeah, don’t worry! We gotcha!”
“Hang in there, Twilight! Be safe!”
At the top of the stairs, Pinkie stood tall as she took in the scene, despite her lungs’ desperation to pull in air. Behind her, the others crowded around, pushing past her only to pause at the sight before them.
The broad room was unsettlingly clear of objects, with only the occasional rotting piece of furniture to be found. At the far side, the wall was made up entirely with a broad pane of glass, somehow preserved over the millennium; the moon’s unblinking eye stared through this window with pale interest. A stepped platform at the center bore the cold weight of the dark alicorn, who was surrounded with five little piles of shards.
Shards of what? But even as the thought crossed Pinkie’s mind, she already knew the answer.
“You foals are too late!” Nightmare Moon laughed, and the air dropped into a decided chill. “The Elements are no more, silly unicorn. Who can save you from the fate you so richly deserve? These peasants?”
“They’re … my friends!” Twilight staggered into view from behind a shattered column. She was bruised and battered, but her eyes were alight with a hope that Pinkie couldn’t remember ever seeing before. “You can take the Elements, but the spirits of them — the spirits of the Elements — aren’t tied to rocks.” She turned to the ponies, smiling. “All of you are part of something I could never have dreamed of … something that I wouldn’t give up for anything.”
Nightmare Moon scowled. In a flash of dark light, a bolt of raw energy sped across the room, missing Twilight by inches. This was of little comfort, however, as it struck Pinkie squarely in the chest, roasting her heart and frying every last nerve in her body. Muscles flopped uselessly as she was thrown against a wall, and she slid to the floor as if already dead.
In the long, long milliseconds it took for the magic to destroy her brain, Pinkie — under the usual rush of pain — decided that dying was really, really stupid.
∞
Nightmare Moon scowled. In a flash of dark light, a bolt of raw energy sped across the room, missing Twilight by inches.
Pinkie, who had already leapt into the air, watched as the bolt streaked underneath her, and cracked a grin at the muffled impact of magic against stone. Her hooves tingled with the wonderful lightness of being.
“I wouldn’t give it up either, Twilight!” She landed with only a slight stumble, standing tall as she faced the unamused alicorn. “And you were right! We really do represent the Elements of Harmony!”
Twilight frowned. “I never said—”
“It’s the bond we all share that harnesses their power. The virtues are the focus for the power, or the lattices of the crystals. If that makes—”
Another bolt struck her in the face.
∞
“It’s the bond we all share that harnesses their power. The virtues are the focus for the power, or the lattices of the crystals. If that makes sense.” She jumped out of the bolt’s path. “When you really care for ponies, that bond can do anything! It can even passively defend us all, because what else would explain how you couldn’t try to directly kill us when we found the Elements just a few minutes ago? … Unless it’s me you’re aiming at, but that’s a minor detail.”
“You’re making negative sense right now,” Dash droned.
“K-kill?” Fluttershy squeaked.
Pinkie went on. “But it can do more than that, and I’m going to prove it!”
Nightmare Moon bared her teeth. Around her, ice began to glisten. “Cease prattling!”
“Applejack!” Pinkie called, cheerfully ignoring her. “She put together a family reunion, and her family is pretty tight-knit. But she still opened her home to visiting ponies, even sharing the food that managed to survive her sister’s clutches! That’s why she represents Generosity!”
One of the piles glowed, lifting into the air. In a swirling pattern of glimmering crystal, the shards rushed toward the astonished earth pony to encircle her. “Gee,” Applejack said, looking at them with dawning thoughtfulness. “I never really thought about it that way before.”
“Rainbow Dash!” Pinkie noticed that the pegasus grinned at the mention of her name. “She’s never afraid to let ponies know what she thinks of them. And she never pretends to be somepony she’s not! She represents Honesty!”
“All right, all right,” Dash said, nodding in approval at the shards that surrounded her. “I’m down with this.”
Nightmare Moon’s eyes were as cold and hateful as her moon. She unleashed another spell, but the shards of Generosity and Honesty lit in response, and the bolt splashed harmlessly against thin air. Her lips parted in a snarl. At her hooves, twisted stalagmites of ice grew.
“Rarity!” Pinkie’s eyes were shining now. “She likes the finer things in life, but that won’t let her get in the way of helping somepony in need! Even on a busy day, she’ll take the time to make sure that somepony is doing okay! She represents Kindness!”
“Well,” Rarity said, blushing, “I don’t know if I’m capable of all that.” Still, the glow of her shards lit her appreciative smile.
“Twilight! She doesn’t give up when it comes to ponies’ safety. It’s been hard for her to convince ponies that the Mare in the Moon is returning, but she never let that stop her from trying to help all of Equestria! She represents Loyalty!”
“I … that’s right.” Twilight looked down at her shards in awe. “No wonder I pressed so hard on this. Princess Celestia must have known!”
“And me!” Pinkie dodged a third bolt, beaming. “I do my best to make sure ponies can enjoy their lives, and the weird singing I do makes ponies feel better. I must represent Laughter!”
“You’re still missing the sixth Element!” Nightmare Moon sneered, though fear flickered there as the last pile zipped away. “You must be a foal to think only those five can accomplish anything!”
“But you’re wrong. We’ve had the sixth Element with us the whole time.” Pinkie’s eyes brimmed with tears as she turned to the last member of the group. “Fluttershy, something about you … it brings out the best in ponies. Even when you’re scared, you go ahead and make the world a better place. Without you, I never would’ve learned about my own magic. Or whatever my singing is. That’s why you have the last Element: the Element of Friendship!”
“Magic,” Twilight corrected.
“Mmmagic!”
“Well, I — oh!” Fluttershy gasped as a brilliant light flashed into existence above her, shimmering bright enough to make Nightmare Moon shield herself with a wing. “It’s … it’s true. I don’t know how, but … um.” Her wings fluttered, as did Pinkie’s heart.
“No!” Nightmare Moon launched bolt after bolt at the ponies, but she could only watch in horror as the shards coalesced into necklaces around five throats. “No, no, no! This can’t end! My night!”
Her horn crackled with power, and she rushed at her foes with hooves outstretched. The entire room was encased in ice … all, that is, except for an invisible bubble around the ponies. Pinkie looked on as stone cracked from the sheer cold, but all she could feel was the warmth of power and the warmth of friendship. She smiled.
“Your night is wonderful.” Fluttershy’s voice had risen to normal conversation level, so bold was she. “But everything has its time. I'm sure you understand.” Wing guards settled into place, and her eyes lit with some unknown power. “Let’s help her.”
Pinkie’s vision was filled with color, beautiful color that wrapped around everything in an unrelenting embrace. Her hooves nearly lifted her off the ground, weightless in their mystery. A faint noise like laughter filled her mind, growing stronger with every second, and then she knew no more.
Her head didn’t ache. That was the first thing she noticed. Pulling herself together, she looked around at the other ponies, who were also stirring. The ice, once such a fearsome display of power, had vanished completely; not a hint of chill remained. Through the far window, she caught sight of a lightening sky, signaling the coming of dawn.
“What … what just happened?” Dash rubbed her head, messing up her mane even more. A glint of an orange lightning bolt caught her eye, and she considered it with a puzzled look.
“My tail!” Rarity crooned at the sight of her restored hair, waving it in a grand arc. “It’s back! So luscious.” There was a clink as her hoof brushed against a pink diamond. “And this is quite lovely too, I must say.”
“Strange. I didn’t think the Elements would take forms quite like these.” Twilight looked down at her necklace, which bore a red jewel shaped like a starburst. “I can see how these would be useful, though. Very accessible!”
“Just accessible?” Applejack puffed out her chest, taking a good look at the indigo apple resting there. “I’d say these old relic things are just plain incredible! Who’d’ve thought virtues could be somethin’ you can touch?”
Pinkie poked at her own Element. The blue balloon was cool to the touch. “Weirder things have happened, Applejack.” Still, she smiled.
Fluttershy said nothing. She stood in awe as she examined her golden wing guards, each bearing the emblem of a purple butterfly.
“You have done well.” A calm voice emanated from without as the sun finally, finally rose. There was a burst of sunlight, and an alicorn pale as ivory stood before them with wings spread in a gesture of magnificence. Her mane rippled in an aurora of green and pink. “Truly, you are among the most valiant ponies I have ever seen. I was wise to trust you, Twilight.”
Pinkie’s breath caught. “Princess …?” Her senses remained, though, just enough to prompt her to sink into a deep bow. Around her, she heard the others follow suit.
All except Twilight, that is. “Princess Celestia! You’re okay!” She darted up to the immortal ruler of Equestria and exchanged a nuzzle. Then she paused. “But … did you know this would happen? Why didn’t you listen to my letter?”
“I never said I didn’t.” Celestia smiled, motherly. “I've known of Nightmare Moon’s return for years now. The Elements are no longer mine to bear, so I put faith in you to find other ponies of exceptional character, hoping that you could accomplish that which is now beyond me. It seems safe to say that you’ve succeeded.”
“We’re just glad we could help, Princess,” Rarity said. “Equestria means a great deal to us.” She looked around at her friends. “And I suppose we found others who mean a great deal to us, as well.”
“I am very proud of all of you.”
Rarity almost suppressed a squeal.
“But there is one other who needs friendship.” Celestia turned, making erratic, hesitant steps toward the shape of a pony, sprawled ungracefully just a few feet beyond her. How anypony had missed it before was a riddle for the ages.
At the sound of clip-clopping hooves, the pony’s eyes snapped open. Wide eyes flitted toward the princess, who loomed like the sun itself. The pony seemed so small next to her, a little patch of dusk-blue.
Pinkie glanced from the horn on the pony’s lifted head, to the wings tucked tight against her sides. Nightmare Moon …
“Luna,” said the princess, as if correcting the unspoken thought. “It has been far, far too long. And for that, I cannot apologize enough.”
The smaller alicorn gasped.
“Had I seen the signs, had I not been so blind … I can’t even fathom how things might have turned out differently. But I was not there when you needed somepony, anypony. For that, I am truly sorry.”
Celestia’s shoulders shook. She seemed to fold in a little on herself, becoming strangely vulnerable despite her power, and her beauty, and her glory. Behind her, the ponies could only stare in wonder.
“Sister, no.” The voice was familiar, though it lacked its former malevolence. The small alicorn got to her hooves, shakily, and took a few wobbling steps to meet the princess of the sun. “Please. You are not to blame, for in my unspeakable arrogance … in my unbridled entitlement …” She sighed, considering the floor. “I would have done terrible things. I can see them, even now. Had you not done what needed to be done, the world would be a much darker place.”
There was an odd sound of somepony caught between a laugh and a sob.
“Celestia.” Luna paused, then leaned forward to give a daring nuzzle. “I cannot put into words how much I have missed you.”
“Likewise, little sister. Likewise.”
“Please forgive me?”
“I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise.”
Pinkie couldn’t hear the sniffling of the ponies around her. She was too preoccupied with her own. And all around, as the sun rose, light and warmth seeped back into the world.
When they all returned to Ponyville, a herd of astonished faces ventured from their dwellings. Luna seemed hesitant to face the ponies she had terrorized the night before, but despite their initial misgivings, they held no apparent ill will. Her softened appearance and shortened stature in turn diminished her presence, and even foals ventured to approach her in their curiosity and awe.
Around the newfound heroes, however, the attitude of the townsponies was somewhat different.
“Really?” Cobbler was asking, eyes bright with wonder. “You carry the spirit of Generosity?”
Applejack grinned. “Kind of. It’s like … it’s a part of me, y’know? And it always has been.” She peered into the jewel’s unknowable depths. “I ain’t sayin’ nopony else coulda done the same, mind you. It was a right-time-right-place thing.”
“So you’re a lucky pony, would you say?”
“Right on the money.”
Cobbler said nothing.
Further along, a veritable flock of pegasi surrounded Dash, who preened under the sudden attention. Questions pecked at her like birds, but she took them all in stride. The cocky grin never left her face, even as she happily provided the answers they sought.
In the crowd, one filly in particular bounced on a random pegasus’s head, eager to get a glimpse of her new hero. With a flare of feathers, Dash scooped her up and set her on her back. The filly’s resultant smile was nearly ear-to-ear.
Some distance away, Rarity provided Fluttershy with some much-needed support. The pegasus, though off-balance from the sudden influx of attention, was nevertheless not uncomfortable. She seemed like a slowly blooming flower, just strong enough to refuse to wilt under fascinated eyes. Beside her, the unicorn regaled her listeners with a tale of the river serpent, and all oohed and aahed at the appropriate moments.
Pinkie saw none of this. She had darted off to Sugarcube Corner, and now was fumbling with the trapdoor. When she managed to shove it open, she skipped down the dark stairs, eager to find her employers. “Mr. Cake? Mrs. Cake? Gummy? You can come out n—”
A trip. A bump. A pitch forward, rolling and tumbling down the jagged descent. A snap.
∞
“Oh, my! You’ve certainly been productive, haven’t you?”
The muffins cooled. They were beautiful, in their own way, golden brown and prettily wrapped. For a long while, they were the only things she could see, and she stared and stared and stared until her eyes watered from the heat of the open oven.
Slowly she turned. Above, the clock read 3:14.
“No …” Pinkie drew to the window, hesitant to see oblivious ponies wandering about outside. “No, no, no! This has to end! I fixed it!” She poked at her chest, hoping in vain to feel Laughter hanging there. “It’s over, right? We won! She’s normal! It has to be over!”
“What do you—?”
“Mrs. Cake.” She faced the stout mare, who drew back at the sight of tears. “We won. Nightmare Moon was gone. Luna came back. It was happily ever after, and everypony could get on with their lives. But it’s happening again. Why is it happening again?” Her breath hitched. “Wasn’t all this enough?”
She slumped, and her mane obscured her face. The will to move seeped from her limbs, and she lay there in a heap, eyes squeezed shut, as if this were only a bad dream and she could soon wake up to see her friends standing over her, while the princesses would welcome her back to consciousness …
But there was only Mrs. Cake, who stroked her back with a comforting hoof in lieu of finding comforting words.
The clock ticked on, filling Pinkie’s ears until she was deafened by its monotonous march. Her lips parted, though she would be insensible to whatever her own words might be.
“Why won’t it end?”