//------------------------------// // 2 // Story: Until the Morning of Eternity // by Subsolar Drift //------------------------------//  For all flesh is as grass And the glory of mortals like flowers The grass withers And the flower falls Therefore be patient, Dearest one, For the coming of Eternity   The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, but its warmth didn’t reach Twilight. Her mind was elsewhere, not paying any heed to the heat building on her coat or the dull aches and pains covering her. The constant pitter-patter of the rain had faded into dull ambiance shortly after the sunset. A sudden flash of illumination caused the shadows to scatter. Twilight blinked, broken from her stupor. She flinched in accord with the shaking of the walls. The thunder echoed through her home. With a groan, she rose to her hooves and shuffled over to the window. There wasn’t much to be seen in the dark, but Twilight was certain the storm wouldn’t be over for a few more hours at least. Twilight glanced towards the clock on her desk. 11:47. A wave of weariness washed over Twilight, and she let out a long yawn. It was good to be home. With another yawn, she trudged her way to the couch. She set her sore shoulder against the couch with a grimace and pushed. The couch slid its way closer to the fire. Satisfied, Twilight grabbed a blanket and settled down. A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she sank into the couch, the warmth of the blanket and the fire driving away any thoughts of the storm outside. Twilight closed her eyes, ready for sleep to embrace her. Her ear twitched. She frowned, then rolled over. Calm washed over her again. The warmth from the fire seeped through her back. Her muscles relaxed, each ache and pain dulled. A sigh slipped from her lips as the weight of the last week fell away from her. She could feel her consciousness slipping away from her, and she embraced it wholeheartedly. Her ear twitched again. Twilight threw her blanket aside as she shot to her hooves. She ignored it and listened intently. The night sounded as it should have. The rain fell, the wind blew, and the fire crackled. She was about to lay down again when she heard it. A light knock at her door. Twilight sighed but stood nonetheless. Begrudgingly, she left the warm embrace of the fire. The night’s wind had crept its way into the library. In Twilight’s study the fire kept it at bay, but in the hall it was biting. Twilight shivered, quickly trotting down the stairs and to the entryway. She took a moment in front of the entrance to brace herself for wrath of the storm, then opened the door. Twilight blinked. “Hello, Twilight,” a sopping wet, bedraggled Celestia greeted her. Twilight blinked again. “May I come in? It’s a little cold out here.” Twilight nodded dumbly, opening the door further and stepping back to let the alicorn enter. Celestia ducked her head and entered the library, closing the door behind her. As Celestia took stock of her surroundings. Twilight, meanwhile,  simply stared, struggling to make sense of the evening’s sudden change. When was the last time Celestia had dropped by unannounced? And when did she ever appear less than perfect? Mud was splattered up her legs, and her mane was plastered to her neck rather than flowing elegantly behind her. How long had she been standing out in the rain? Twilight opened her mouth to ask. Celestia shivered. Any semblance of comprehension was wiped from Twilight’s mind at that point. Princess Celestia, embodiment of the sun, shivered. The same Princess who not even a week ago had been magically thrashed by a Changeling Queen The same Princess who had her magic siphoned from her by their cocoons. The same Princess who had been prescribed a minimum of two weeks bed rest by the royal physicians. “Do you have a towel I could use?” Celestia asked, turning to Twilight. She was met with a furious glare. “Why in Equestria are you here, Princess Celestia?!” Twilight growled. “Look at you! You’re in no condition to be here! You should be back in Canterlot, recovering!” “I’m perfectly fine, Twilight,” she replied. “Just a little tired.” “A little tired?” Twilight scoffed. “And I suppose it’s just a little rainy outside. You’re shivering, Princess! You can’t even spare the magic to keep yourself warm.” Celestia raised a hoof to answer, then stopped and gave it a curious glance. Sure enough, it shivered. “Hmm. I suppose you’re right.” She paused, then asked, “Do you have a towel I could use?” Twilight snorted, trying to mask her concern. “You need more than a towel, that’s for sure. Let’s get you by the fire first and I’ll see what I can do.” Celestia nodded grimly, following behind Twilight on the way up the stairs. She eyed the steps warily, as if they might reach out and trip her. More than a thousand years of practice paid off, and the stairs were conquered without incident. Celestia followed her student through the hall and though the threshold into Twilight's study. The cozy space was cast in deep shadows, and the warmth of the fire was palpable even at the doorway. Like a moth to a lamp, Celestia was drawn to the warmth, gingerly setting herself down as close to the flames as she could. Twilight looked on at the shivers wracking the alicorn’s frame. She was a mere silhouette against the fire. A pony fighting against a cold night. “Let me go get you that towel.” Twilight fled the warmth of the chamber and sought the frigid safety of the bathroom. She sunk down the side of the tub and came to a rest on the cold tiles. She rubbed her temples to fight her growing headache. So much for the peace and quiet of home. Twilight sighed. The heat drained from her and she cast out her chaotic thoughts with it. After another minute Twilight grabbed a few towels and returned to her study with her thoughts collected. The alicorn had laid down. Her shivering had died down thanks to the fire. Twilight trotted over, knelt down beside the older mare, and began to dry her off. Celestia turned in surprise. “Twilight, you don’t have to dry me. I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.” “With all due respect, I don’t think you are, Princess.” Celestia opened her mouth to argue, but thought better of it. She laid her head back down and let Twilight resume. A look of concern grew on the unicorn’s face as she continued to towel off the alicorn. In the light of the fire, Twilight could see her real state. Beneath her coat, a patchwork of bruises ran across her side. Her wings were a mess, and her feathers were in total disarray. There wasn't a straight shaft among them. Twilight's ministrations stopped as her eyes fell upon a particularly loose pinion. It twitched on some invisible breeze. Twilight exhaled and her breath was the last straw. The feather broke free and fluttered to the floor. Twilight swallowed and resumed the drying. The crackling of the fire filled the silence. Eventually Twilight's focus reached a tender point, and Celestia winced sharply. Twilight pulled away, giving Celestia a second. Celestia sighed, nodded, and allowed Twilight to resume. “Did you fly here in the storm?” she asked softly. There was no response. “What were you thinking, Princess?” “Do you remember the first lunar solstice we spent together, Twilight?” Celestia asked, ignoring the question. Twilight frowned, but answered. “Of course I do. How could I ever forget that night?” “Why do you never leave off my title, Twilight?” The alicorn asked. Twilight opened her mouth, taken aback. Before she had a chance to respond, Celestia continued. “I won’t ever forget that night either, Twilight,” she sighed softly. "I won't ever forget the little filly who was so desperate to make me feel better that she addressed me like a friend, rather than a leader.”   The words hung heavily in the air; half accusation, half reminiscence.   “I hoped when I asked you to never apologize for using my name, you might use it more often.   The words hit Twilight like a blow, sending her thoughts reeling. Her mouth opened and closed but no coherent words came forth, only small breaths.   Celestia shook her head. She took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled. “I’m sorry, Twilight. That was uncalled for. I’m not really myself tonight.” Twilight didn’t respond. Celestia chewed her lip, fighting an inner battle. She sighed. “I’ve barely slept a wink in the last week. I just can’t stop thinking. It’s like the wedding just let loose a stream of questions, and they won’t stop.” Celestia fell silent. The fire popped in the cool night. She turned to look at Twilight. Twilight simply stared at the crackling flames. Celestia’s eyes decomposed everything about the unicorn’s expression. From the twitch of an ear to a subtle tightening around the eyes after a blink, Celestia took it all in. She still didn’t have the slightest clue what was going on in Twilight’s mind. And so Celestia inhaled and cast the die. “It all comes back to you, Twilight.” The unicorn turned and ensnared Celestia in a labyrinth of violet, full of some emotion that she, even with all her experience, couldn’t place. The world condensed to just their interlocking gaze. There was a vastness there. A void, full of peril and opportunity. Twilight turned away. The trance was broken. Celestia swallowed. Her suddenly-dry throat itched. She delved on into the void. “Twilight, I have made mistakes, and I will continue to make them. I know how to carry the weight of my sins.” The alicorn stopped and wetted her dry lips. “I keep seeing your face when I close my eyes. Your expression when you tried to confront Chrysalis. I could see the glimmer of hope in your eyes when I walked up to you. The thought that I would come to your defense, as you had always come to mine.” Celestia shook. “I can’t, Twilight -- I can’t bear the fact that I did that.” Celestia’s eyes lost focus. She stared past Twilight into the depths of the past. “I can bear the lives I’ve taken by my hoof or horn. I can bear the lives I couldn’t save. I can bear the centuries of making impossible decisions, where the only result is pain and heartache. I can bear my sins.” “But betraying you? Thinking I’d lost you?” Motes of dust drifted through the firelight. The books sat hushed on their shelves. The storm raged on in silence. “You’re the closest thing I’ve had to a friend in seven hundred years.” Celestia’s head fell. Yet another shiver wracked her body. “I’m so sorry.” The alicorn shrugged of the blanket. She gritted her teeth and lifted herself from the floor. She turned to leave. Her path was immediately blocked by a frowning Twilight. "Twilight," Celestia began. Before she could continue, the unicorn rushed forward, raised onto her hind legs, and wrapped the alicorn in a tight hug.   Celestia froze, stiff as a board. Her breath trickled through her clenched teeth, blocked like a mountain stream after a rockslide. Her legs groaned, pleading her to lay down once more. A soft, clean coat sullied itself against her. Celestia knew she should want to pull away, but try as she might, she could not. And so at long last, she melted into the warm embrace of the smaller pony. She sat and pulled the unicorn closer with her wings, wrapping her neck around Twilight. Neither knew how long they held their embrace.   "Thank you, Twilight," Celestia breathed, squeezing Twilight tightly one last time. Feeling like a weight had been pulled from her back, she rose to her hooves, ready at last to depart.   "Where do you think you're going?" Twilight asked, getting to her hooves as well. Celestia stared back at the unicorn’s stern look, confused.   Twilight didn't shy away from the alicorn’s gaze. "You're in no condition to go back to Canterlot tonight. You need to rest and recover."   Celestia opened her mouth to argue, but one look from Twilight stopped any protest. Twilight nodded, satisfied that Celestia's arguments were silenced. "Now lay down on the couch and try to get some sleep," she suggested.   Celestia nodded and squeezed down onto the couch, settling herself down on her side. A wave of weariness washed over her, making her eyelids droop.   Twilight smiled at the alicorn struggling to hold onto consciousness beneath her. A blanket rose in a lavender aura and settled down over the alicorn. Grabbing a pillow and blanket for herself, Twilight settled down on the floor beside her mentor.   "I don't deserve you, Twilight Sparkle," Celestia sighed. She closed her eyes and surrendered to the night.   She heard Twilight shifting beside her, but didn't open her eyes. Her consciousness ebbed. Just as she reached the edge of sleep, she felt it: a kiss, placed gently on her forehead. The feeling of the unicorn's lips lingered in Celestia's mind. When she fell asleep, it haunted her dreams.   The Redeemed will come again And come to our lands with a shout Eternal joy shall be upon her head They shall take joy and gladness And sorrow and sighing must depart