Cadence
Several days pass in what is little more than a vague blur to me. The rescue efforts go on, ponies are treated, fires extinguished, damage repaired. Slowly but surely the Crystal Empire begins to recover from the damage of the occupation. I know that I should be happy about that, but I can’t really bring myself to be.
Eventually Shining Armor returns with several of Equestria’s soldiers and Twilight Sparkle in tow. My husband won’t talk to me, and for my part I don’t really blame him. He thinks that I did what I did out of love-blinded idiocy. That I ignored the safety of my kingdom and subjects because I wanted to have sex with him again or something like that. He doesn’t know the full circumstances behind my decision, and for the moment I can’t tell him.
Twilight, by contrast, is all over me. She’s absolutely delighted to see her sister-in-law alive and in one piece, and the hugging takes a little while to end. When it does she asks plenty of questions, mostly varieties of “What happened?” and “Are you alright?”. I answer as best as I am able, omitting a few details here and there. I hate to lie to her – I’ve done enough of that – but in this case it is necessary.
As for my “dear” aunt, she seems mostly content with the damage she’s done. She let me go without a word the night Shining left and, for the most part, has avoided me since. Perhaps she feels that she’s done enough to punish me inside the family, because nopony is more publicly adamant on my blamelessness for the whole affair. The official story, as I understand it, is that Sombra’s return was a matter of ill luck and horrific timing, for which nopony among us should be held accountable. On the dark king’s shoulders alone rests the blame for everything, which is a story the ponies of the Crystal Empire seem ready enough to believe. Even after all this time the cultural memory of the dark sorcerer remains powerful.
Of course, it could also be that she worries that if I’m pressed any further I’ll decide that I have nothing to lose, flip out, and publicly try a murder-suicide against her. I don’t think either of us are entirely sure who would come out on top of such a contest now. Celestia lost an enormous chunk of her magic to Sombra, and he took it with him when he died. This won’t be like Tirek – there’s no recovery in sight for her. And even if she did win, a public fight to the death with her own niece would destroy all of her carefully-cultivated reputation and shatter the illusion of an infallible, always-moral god princess. I can’t say that the thought isn’t sometimes tempting.
But no. Whenever I even begin to think such thoughts I put a hoof to my belly. I have things to live for. Ponies I love. Ponies I have to care for. I have a child on the way, and husband who loves me. I heard about what he did – how he was willing to die by Sombra’s hoof before letting the same happen to me. Such love is not lost in a day, merely buried. He is angry at me, he thinks me childish and stupid and perhaps an unfit ruler, but he hasn’t stopped caring. I know it in the depths of my soul: Shining Armor still loves me. For his sake, and for the sake of our child, I cannot give up. I won’t surrender to despair. My family needs me.
Those ponies who died in the crisis are given an elaborate state funeral as a group. Those whose families wish it will of course have a more private service later, all paid for by me, personally. It is, I feel, the very least I could do for them. The final casualty list is thirty-eight ponies killed, either during the takeover or by Sombra’s liberal use of solar fire during the final battle. Each death weighs heavily on me, for I should have been able to prevent them, to protect them. That I failed is a stain on me that ten thousand years won’t wash out.
Shining Armor, as the hero of the hour, delivers the opening speech. There are more than three thousand ponies turned out for this, and there would be more if we had been able to find room. All of the alicorns are present as well, and we listen with bowed heads and heavy hearts. Well, my heart is heavy at any rate. To see Celestia doing it just feels like mockery. Even Hoarfrost is here, though for taste’s sake he’s under an illusion. It wasn’t long ago he was leading the very army that killed some of these ponies.
Next, the families of the deceased take the stage to deliver their eulogies. I’ve already memorized the names and faces of the dead, but seeing their families standing there, tears in their eyes, commemorating the slain really drives the point home for me. My rash action and lack of forethought killed these ponies. My aunt may be a lying, snake-tongued murderess, but she wasn’t wrong about that. I should have been more cautious, taken measures to ensure our security. That I didn’t will haunt me forever, I think.
One by one the families file by, reminiscing about those that they loved and tearfully bidding them goodbye as they join the Eternal Herd. I allow myself a few tears and a brief prayer of my own, silently asking the spirits of the dead for their forgiveness. I have no idea if they can hear me, but it’s always possible. If so, ponies, please know that I never intended this, and had no idea what would happen.
Eventually the eulogies end, and it’s my turn to speak a few words. I climb up onto the stage with as much solemn grace and dignity as I can muster, making certain that my black dress doesn’t get caught on anything.
“Citizens of the Crystal Empire… Guests… My friends,” I begin, voice carried easily through the air by magic. “We have all gathered here to mourn the loss of thirty-eight good ponies, lives cut short by the malice of a great evil. Today is a tragedy, and I join each and every one of you in shedding tears for those now departed from us. Further,” I pause for just a moment. “I wish to extend my personal condolences and heartfelt apologies to everypony here. I failed to protect you all as well as I should have, and for that I am deeply sorry.”
I bow my head once, twice, thrice, and so on, until I’ve bowed the mourners of each and every one of the dead. Some of them cry a little at the gesture.
“Before I call this to an end, I have one more thing to say,” I continue, slowly. “Though this is a day of great sorrow and mourning, I implore each and every one of you to not allow this to change who we are. Let us rise of from the ashes of tragedy with a new determination. Let us not allow the specter of what has been to mar our futures. Let the Crystal Empire stand as a beacon of hope brighter than ever before, shining the light of love across all lands, to every corner of the world. Let us build an even brighter future, that the tyrant rotting in the eternal abyss will know that he has failed to break us. This I implore you: let the Crystal Empire rise anew, like a glorious golden phoenix.”
That earns me a good amount of agreeable stamping from the crowd. I bow my head again before descending back towards my seat, the eyes of the theater following me. Save for one.
Shining Armor
The state funeral ends shortly after Cadence’s remarks. Then we move on to the more private funerals – at least those where we’re wanted. Some of the families requested our presence, others declined. My wife and I go together as a public show of unity and strength. Sometimes Celestia, Luna, or Twily are also invited, other times they’re called away to the funerals of the Equestrian embassy staff.
We don’t actually do much, just generally show up, offer our condolences, and show support for the families. I wish I could do more. Scratch that, I wish I had been strong enough not to get possessed and enable all of this in the first place! Lacking the means to make that a reality, all I can do is offer what comfort I can to those who need it most. Since somepony put the word out that I was the one who slayed Sombra this time, they’re all looking up at me like a I’m some sort of hero.
The various funerals we attend take up virtually the entire day, but even they eventually come to a close. Coffins are buried, prayers are said, and ponies go home for the night. As for us, we head back to the Imperial Palace, currently undergoing rapid repair. Cadence tries to make small talk on the way. I don’t answer her. Eventually she falls silent, looking down.
I’ll admit to feeling extremely conflicted right about now. On the one hoof, I love Cadence. I’ve spent centuries with her, raised children with her. To see her looking miserable makes me want to do nothing so much as comfort her and assure her that everything will be alright.
On the other hoof, I can’t ignore what just happened. Dozens of ponies just died because of her negligence and infatuated stupidity. She cared so much about putting me back in flesh that she ignored the empire’s defenses and made everything that just happened possible. My sister was kidnapped and imprisoned, I was possessed, the empire overrun, and Celestia permanently damaged as a direct result of her actions. I can’t overlook something like that – it calls her entire stability and competence into question. I know that she obviously would never intend such a thing to happen and that she was deceived, but results matter.
So what do I do about it?
I don’t know, to be perfectly honest. By the time I returned from getting Twily back, the decision had already been made not to make that part of the story public. To avoid undermining the public’s confidence in their leadership even further, Luna explained to me. And it is certainly true that ponies need to believe that their rulers are looking out for them. But how am I supposed to look after them when the biggest threat to their safety might well be their beloved princess, my wife?
I just don’t know how to deal with Cadence right now. We’ll have to speak again sometime, but I don’t think I’m ready for it. I don’t want to explode against her, but at the same time she has to learn that there are serious, personal consequences for dealing with the devil. I can’t in any sense appear to condone her behavior. What’s the right balance between loving correction and firm discipline when you’re dealing with an immortal alicorn princess who also happens to be your wife?
I just don’t know. And until I do I won’t risk accidentally sending the wrong message. The stakes, as today demonstrated, are too high.
Late in the evening, as the sun is gently setting over the western horizon, I’m seated atop a balcony on the Imperial Palace. I’m here alone, picking at my dinner, thinking. And thinking. And thinking some more. What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I-
My train of thought is interrupted by a soft knock on the balcony door.
I look up, set my face in its best steely expression, and then cautiously reach over with magic to open the door.
“Hello,” says Princess Celestia.
My face falls a bit. I was expecting Cadence. Just looking at Celestia right now makes me feel somewhat guilty. She’s lost a huge chunk of her power, and for reasons ultimately traceable back to me. Seeing the princess I used to guard victimized by a monster like Sombra is quite uncomfortable.
“May I please have a word with you?” she asks in a soft tone.
“Of course,” I nod, making space. “Do you want anything? I can have-”
“Nothing,” she cuts me off, walking easily over to take a seat across from me. “But I thank you for your hospitality.”
“Think nothing of it! You’ve more than earned every bit of hospitality we could give!”
“That’s very sweet of you to say,” she smiles. “But perhaps you overstate things.”
Her modesty is incredible – just as I remember it. It’s like she doesn’t even slightly resent losing so much magic to try to fix our mistakes.
“Regardless,” her tone becomes more serious. “I should like to talk to you about something very serious.”
“Go on.”
“It is about…” she hesitates. “Your upcoming foal.”
I blink. “Our foal?”
These last few days have been so hectic that I’ve barely had time to think about what Cadence said that night.
“Yes. Let me be blunt,” she looks me in the eye. “Each and every alicorn born is heir to immortality and vast power. Even the least can do great good or great harm. They may cause nations to rise and fall, or hold the lives of millions in their hooves. Their early environment and instruction are therefore matters of the utmost importance to us all. And, I am sad to say..." she sighs. "That in light of recent events, I fear that Cadence can no longer be trusted with the responsibility of raising an infant alicorn.”
I honestly don’t know what to say to something like that.
“…What are you proposing?” I eventually manage.
“Well,” Celestia says, slowly. “I did have a few ideas…”
Cadence
“Cadence?” a soft voice accompanies the knock on my door.
“Ah,” I turn my head, a smile on my face. “Come in! Come in!”
I’ve seen enough of Celestia. She thinks she’s won. She’s thinks that for all she’s lost she’s finally on top of the world. Well, Sombra thought the same thing, right before Shiny gutted the bastard. Well, Auntie, I’m not giving up. I have something to live for, and a future to secure.
You’re not in it.
But for all that you are a horrible, backstabbing, baby-stealing old witch, you do occasionally spout some good ideas. You were right when you said that a big part of what happened was my excessive secrecy, my refusal to invite ponies who cared for me to help. That policy ends right this moment. You gave me the idea that I need to set everything right again. I’m sure you’ll appreciate the irony.
“You wanted to see me?” my guest walks in.
“Twilight!” I smile at her. “Come in! Come in! Give your sister a hug!”
She does so, cheerfully. I can feel the innocent warmth flowing freely from her, seeming to make the world a better place by its mere presence. I take a moment to seal the door shut behind her, casting a few spells in case of eavesdroppers.
“What’s up, Cadence?” she asks. “You said you had something you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Yes, I did. Before we begin, can I count on your absolute silence on this?”
“Of course!” Twilight insists, looking a little worried. “You know you can trust me! Is something wrong?”
“I need your help with a little… magical problem I’m having.”
“Oh?” her ears stand at attention. “What kind of problem?”
“I’m looking to develop a very specific kind of counterspell for something very important to the empire’s security.”
“I can help with that. I know a lot about counterspells,” she says. “What kind of spell are you looking to get rid of?”
I smile a little on the inside.
“A geas.”