Corona rested on Andean’s bed, fast asleep. She had stayed up through the battle to keep her sister safe. Now that the danger had passed, she was taking a well-earned rest. Andean brushed his eldest daughter’s head feathers, which contained the slightest hint of red at the tips. A mark of power yet to be unleashed.
He smiled. Across the room, in a separate hospital bed, his youngest daughter devoured a meal of fish and chips. She had been promised ice cream, and had commanded the nurse to bring enough for all three of them.
Andean was barely in a position to eat. He looked down at his heavily bandaged stomach and grimaced. There was no getting around it; he was grounded for a good, long time, even with ambrosia’s healing power. Even Stella, whose cancer had been peeled from her bones by unicorn magic, would heal sooner than he.
Then would begin a different sort of recovery. He cocked his ear and heard Captain Barbary of the Blitzwings in conversation with Celestia’s Captain of the Guard, Stonewall. A comment brought laughter to the both of them. They had fought together, and now found themselves brothers in arms. As had all the surviving Blitzwings and Cloudsdale defenders.
Andean focused on the warm, fuzzy sensation of his daughter’s feathers. It was calming. It was uncomplicated. It was a symbol of all that was good in the world.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt that he could trust Luna. He knew that Celestia was wise enough to lead a country consistently for a millennium. Twilight Sparkle ate and breathed friendship. Cadence maintained a picture of comprehending all things love.
They were still dangerous, like unfired volleyguns. Aimed and activated by those behind the trigger. If they were corrupted, it would be the end of all things. If they were mistaken, it would be the end of civilization. If they were mislead, it would mean the death of so many.
Andean yet had much to ponder.
An earth pony walked in, carrying a tray on her back. “Hello, Princess Stella! Did you enjoy your food?”
“Delicious!” Stella chirped in the griffon tongue. Switching to Equish, she repeated, “It was delightful, Miss Wishes.”
Andean’s head snapped to the nurse. Did she have wings? No, he wasn’t mistaken; it was indeed an earth pony.
He cleared his throat and spoke in a small voice. “Excuse me, ma’am, but what is your name?”
“Flower Wishes, Your Grace,” the pony said. She moved a bowl off her plate and passed it to Stella. “Eat up, dear!”
“Vanilla!” Stella dove into the dessert, making little squeaks of joy.
Andean patted Corona to rouse her. “Would you like some ice cream, Corona?”
Corona blinked awake and yawned. “Yes, Father. What kind?”
“I came prepared,” Flower Wishes said. She presented several bowls of various colors. “I have enough chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry for you to take your pick. They just came by from the Fillydelphia relief workers.”
“Strawberry!” Corona raised a fist. “The only ice cream fit for a princess!”
“’Nilla rules!” Stella nodded her head decisively before returning to her treat wholeheartedly.
Flower Wishes smiled at Andean. “I suspect you’re the chocoholic, Your Grace?”
“My wife was the chocolate aficionado. Life with her affected my palate.” Andean accepted the bowl, as well as the tiny spoon inside it. He tried to grasp the little thing with the tips of his talons, then thought better of it.
He tilted his head to look Flower Wishes in the eye. “Madam, do you know somepony named Ribbon Wishes? Perhaps a sister, or someone who works here?”
Flower Wishes’ face twisted in confusion. She tilted her eyes upwards and to the left. “Mm. No. No, there’s nopony with that name who works here. There’s just me. There aren’t a whole lot of Wishes in the world, so if you’re looking for her, she’ll turn up sooner or later.”
“I see.” Andean clicked his beak. “Thank you for the assistance. And the ice cream.”
“My pleasure, Your Grace.” She trotted through the door to bring ice cream to more patients. “You kids have fun!”
Corona licked a bit of strawberry from the tip of her beak. “Who is Ribbon Wishes, Father?”
“The one who saved me from the storm.” Andean stuck his tongue out and collected nearly all the ice cream in a single lick. Brain freeze was sure to follow. “She appeared first as a Blitzwing warrior, then as a female pony. Naturally, I owe her a debt, but I am also wary as to her purpose.” He tapped Corona on the beak. “And her means of shape-changing.”
“She’s a good changeling!” Stella said. “Like Blankie!”
Andean laughed. “It would not surprise me if Celestia had other benevolent changelings hidden away. Perhaps it is a question to ask her when she is well. And in a sharing mood.”
As Stella and Corona finished their food, he mused to himself. “As unlikely an occurrence as any.”
***
Twilight Sparkle stood in the middle of the Dream’s Keep, surrounded by four chairs that she had carried to the tower. The blood had been cleaned from the floor, the broken glass swept away, and the cracked balcony boarded off. Even the mirrors had been removed for polishing and cleaning. The Dream’s Keep found itself just as secluded and private as it always was, plus some.
Perfect for a meeting between the four Princesses of Equestria.
Twilight mentally ran over her points. They were carefully chosen and spaced out for maximum impact, with room for improvisation. If losing her voice had one boon, it was that she had to be even more careful—even more certain—of what she wanted to say.
She snorted at the very thought that she could put a positive spin on her injuries.
“Twilight?”
Twilight lifted one ear, then the other. She turned her head and wrinkled her brow. The voice was one she’d been longing to hear, but had nearly given up hope on. She gave her scarf a quick tug to make sure it covered her scar.
Celestia walked slowly across the room, taking deliberate steps. As Twilight watched, she could see specific moments where Celestia’s muscles just weren’t as strong as they needed to be. A stumble here, an unsure footing there, a quick wince across the face.
Twilight met her halfway and nuzzled her head against Celestia’s neck.
“Twilight, my most faithful student.” Celestia closed her eyes and rested her chin on Twilight’s head. “No longer a student, yet just as faithful.”
She pulled away and looked down upon her friend. “I wish so much that this could be a meeting among friends, instead of a council of rulers.”
Twilight Sparkle took out her notepad and scribbled with the pen in her mouth. There is time for that later. Sky Wishes is putting together lunch with Natter.
Celestia gave her a rueful smirk. “The only two staff members who didn’t take the forced holiday. Go figure. I’ve been trying to pair them off for years and they finally do it while I’m away.”
Twilight pouted and lifted an eyebrow.
“You’ll have to forgive an old princess taking the occasion to meddle.” Celestia lowered herself laboriously into a chair. She rested for a long breath. “Luna tells me you found the Grimoire Alicorn. Have you read it?”
Twilight frowned. Cover to cover.
Celestia lowered her head. “I trust you with this, Twilight. I admit that I would rather have the book destroyed, but I understand how you feel about it. I felt much the same way. It’s why I put it in the archives, after all.”
“I also agree with Twilight!” Cadence trotted into the room, with Luna hot on her heels. “We’re Equestrians. We don’t burn books. That’s the kind of stuff Sombra did.”
Luna lidded her eyes. “Which you can read all about in his book of dark magic.”
“Manta Ray Books still publish Starlight’s ideologies,” Celestia said. “Even after Miss Glimmer publicly renounced them.”
Luna settled into the chair across from Celestia. “Starlight Glimmer didn’t publish her formula for removing cutie marks. We wouldn’t let her. The same with Twilight’s research on how Tirek eats magic. Should we now turn around and let them be published because of freedom of the press?”
Cadence rolled her eyes. “Twilight, do you want to publish those findings where a homicidal maniac might see them?”
Twilight scowled. Way to strawman the argument.
“I’m making a point.” Cadence tapped her hoof. “Twilight isn’t publishing her findings because of their potential extremely dangerous uses. But she also isn’t publishing Sombra’s book. She’s keeping it safe and using its knowledge for good.”
“I’m unconcerned with the knowledge and what Twilight can do with it.” Luna folded her wings across her back. “We have covered that much already. I merely find the tome itself distasteful and disconcerting.”
Celestia rubbed her forehead. “Then please excuse me for encouraging the digression. I was confused about the purpose of the discussion. We have more important things to talk about.”
“Wait. Hold up.” Cadence held a wing level with the ground. “You don’t like the book because of what it says about you.”
Luna narrowed her eyes. She angled herself away from Cadence. “My sister’s and my origins are an unfortunate matter with no available remedy. So yes, any reminder of that is taxing on my conscience.”
Cadence huffed. “So when are we going to make it public that you guys were artificially augmented?”
“Never,” Celestia said. “A lot of truths have been built on that lie. If the lie were to vanish, I’m scared of what could happen. Terrified.”
Cadence scrunched her mouth like she’d caught a bad smell. “What happened to ‘the truth will set you free’?”
“That is true.” Celestia rubbed her scar and grimaced. “It’s true if you start with the truth. And continue in the truth. And end with the truth. This lie was started before I was even born, Cadence. It’s the foundation of so much. To dispel it now is to overthrow years of peace and security.”
“We don’t have to dispel it.” Cadence looked to Twilight. “The truth is that the prophecy was fulfilled, just later than we thought. Twilight and I—”
“Would suddenly have the weight of the entire kingdom on your shoulders.” Celestia flapped a wing. “It’s stupid to make you two the high princesses during such a volatile time. Even so, the ponies would demand it. They would march to Canterlot and staple you to the thrones if they thought you were the ‘true’ alicorns.”
Luna caught Cadence’s eye. “We have little assurance that either of you are the prophesied ones. Starswirl specifically stated that they would rise from humble beginnings. Something a member of the Sparkle family cannot exactly claim.”
Twilight fidgeted with her pencil. She shrugged.
Cadence looked across to Twilight with a frown. She turned away. “I don’t enjoy living in a kingdom built on a lie.”
“Now is not the time to vanquish falsehoods,” Celestia said. “Now is the time to stand together and make Equestria secure.”
Cadence swallowed the bile in her throat. “Love does not lie.”
Luna barked a laugh. “No, but ponies do. And we are all very much ponies.”
“Aunt Luna,” Cadence said, gritting her teeth, “have I mentioned lately how deeply I enjoy your company?”
“Nay, thou hast been silent.” Luna wiggled her eyebrows. When she saw the frowns on each of their faces, she sighed. “But really, I have a question that has been lying heavily on my mind…”
She crossed her forelegs on the chair. “Celestia, when were you going to tell us?”
Celestia leaned back. She looked from one pony to the next. She shut her eyes and bowed her head, letting her wings rest gently against the chair back. “I wasn’t going to.”
Cadence took in a quick breath. Luna gripped her seat until it cracked. Twilight blinked away the sting of tears.
Celestia sucked in a breath. “I wasn’t going to tell you, because I thought Hurricane was lost forever. The events held no bearing on you, Cadence. They would bring undue stress to you, Luna. They would confuse and frighten you, Twilight. They were terrible for me to even think about, and by then I was already engrained into the Equestrian mind as a savior and divine protector. How could I abandon them, even for the truth, when they needed me so badly?”
Cadence flicked her tail. “You didn’t need to abandon them. You just had to make it right. Now, we’re all in deep trouble.”
Twilight wrote carefully.
“Undue stress?” Luna leaned forward. “You were afraid I would return to my villainous ways?”
Celestia opened her mouth to speak. When nothing came out, she nodded silently.
Luna rocked on her seat. “I wish I could say that you were wrong to think so.”
“Wait, what?” Cadence got to her hooves. “You fell to the Nightmare?”
“Nearly, but Twilight pulled me back—”
“When was I going to be told this?” Cadence stomped a hoof. “When was I going to be told any of this?”
“Cadence,” Celestia said, “please calm down. The danger is over for the moment.”
“I have just had my entire worldview changed,” Cadence snapped. “You don’t get to tell me to calm down—”
Twilight’s ear-splitting whistle cut her off. She lifted a page from her notebook and waved it at Cadence.
Princess Cadenza took the note. Twilight motioned to her mouth. Cadence nodded and read aloud.
“‘It’s true that this lie cannot go on existing, but it’s also true that, if handled clumsily, it could hurt a lot of ponies. The key, I think, is to ease Equestria into the truth. Bit by bit, fact by fact. We need to make a plan about how we are going to share the truth with Equestria, to shed light on the dark places. Lies are what brought us to this point; let’s not fall into the same trap.’”
Cadence lowered the page and tilted her head. “‘They deserve to know.’”
Twilight nodded, then looked to Celestia.
Princess Celestia wrinkled her forehead. She shook her head with tiny, hesitant movements. “Is that wisdom I hear? It’s been so long, I forgot the sound of it.”
Luna winked at Twilight. “That’s our Twilight Sparkle. Making plans and taking names.”
Celestia looked to Cadence, let out a harsh puff of air, and turned away. “Are we ready to move on to the next problem?”
“They’re issues, not problems.” Cadence took her seat with a grumble. “Problems have solutions.”
Twilight frowned at Cadence.
Cadenza raised her eyebrows. She bowed her head and folded her hooves. “I’m sorry. Not helping.”
Luna felt a shiver run down her spine. “Shall we discuss your encounter with the Dark Master of the Unseelie Court?”
“It might be best.” Celestia rested the side of her head on her hoof. “Twilight, Cadence, are you two familiar with tales of the First Age?”
Twilight Sparkle shook her head. She scribbled a thought. The earliest days of history are shrouded in mystery. Not much writing survives from it.
“It’s all word of mouth,” Cadence added. “And nopony can agree on anything. Nothing’s changed in that regard, but especially about then.”
“Exactly. Word of mouth. Rumors. Legends. Myths.” Celestia leaned back and stared at the small bell hanging in the middle of the room. “Some of the oldest stories describe a race of fair folk, far more powerful and splendid than anything mortals are capable of. These beings came down to earth from the stars and conquered the world. They ruled it with an iron fist for many years, with no one to oppose them.”
“Naturally, something happened,” Cadence said. “Something which explained to the early ponies how society came to be. Otherwise it wouldn’t be a myth.”
“Of course.” Celestia brought her hooves together. “The oppression of one of the fair folk, the Lord of the Sky, grew too cruel to stand. The Creator heard the cry of the people, and gave to them six gifts. They used these gifts to banish the Lord of the Sky and his followers to the Abyss for all eternity.”
“Six gifts.” Luna smiled. “And the story comes full circle.”
“Not quite.” Celestia tapped her hoof. “In the Second Age, in the years before the Unification, this story was heavily discredited by unicorn historians. They claimed it was heresy.”
“Heresy?” Cadence snorted. “What would they consider heretical about the Creator giving ponies the means to fight off evil?”
“He didn’t give them to the ponies.” Celestia said. “According to the oldest versions of the myth, he gave them to the changelings.”
Cadence blinked. She stared at the floor. Her mouth moved without sound.
Twilight Sparkle passed a note. So, creatures besides ponies can use the Elements of Harmony?
“That is what the story implies,” Celestia said, “and that was a thought that the Second-Age scholars did not wish to promote.”
Why?
“As much as it pains us to admit…” Luna stretched a wing out to touch Twilight’s back. “Ponies were not a kind species in the earliest days. Especially those days before the unification. There is a reason we fell to the plague of the windigos.”
Twilight Sparkle hugged herself. I feel sick.
“The existence of the being I encountered…” Celestia ground her teeth lightly. “It validates at least a portion of that particular myth. It is clear to me that our foe, as of now, is the Unseelie Court of Fae. The ones who rejected their rightful place in the universe to become something dark and dreadful.”
They are not alone.
The others turned to Twilight as she shuffled through her bag of notes. She pulled out a particular point and passed it around. Through my talks with Skyhook and Daring, it is obvious that they encountered a siren in the depths of the Crystal Mines.
Luna swallowed. “What was their evidence?”
She sang to place Skyhook's soldiers under a thrall. He was the only one unaffected. He played along until he found the source of the spell, then acted to silence it. He failed, and she got away. She had a glistening magical necklace. It sounds a lot like Adagio, Aria, and Sonata, if you ask me.
Cadence ran a hoof through her hair, brushing it in an attempt to bring herself some minute comfort. “Do we have evidence to suggest she was working with the Unsilly?”
“Unseelie,” Celestia said.
“Whatever.”
Not much. Twilight shrugged. The timing is too good to be a coincidence, though.
She had the next page ready. Which leads me to the question of the hour: Why was Skyhook immune?
She stood up and paced around the chair, thinking it over. After a moment, she handed out a new sheet. When we were in the other world, facing the Dazzlings, all of us were immune to the effects of their song. The other Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rarity—and of course Sunset, Spike, and I. We had the hypothesis at the time that this was because of our shared connection to Equestrian magic. I am beginning to believe that this theory is flawed.
She lifted her head and flicked her tail. Or, more accurately, the theory is not specific enough as to what type of magic is involved.
Cadence squinted. “You think Skyhook has an affinity for an Element?”
Possibly. Twilight Sparkle wrote hastily. Maybe. If so, it means that Spike was immune because he also has an affinity towards an Element. We could fairly accurately decipher potential bearers of the Elements based on whether they can be enthralled by the sirens’ song or not.
“It’s an interesting thought.” Celestia chewed her lip. “But it assumes that other creatures are drawn to the Elements even when the current Bearers are still in operation.”
“Or they’re backups,” Cadence said. “There to replace a fallen Bearer in the case of an emergency.”
Luna smirked ruefully. “It still amazes me how little we understand these little baubles.”
It’s in an inverse proportion to how much we rely on them. Twilight Sparkle hopped back into her chair. Since he’s been assigned to my personal guard, I’ll keep a close watch on Skyhook. Spike, too. I’ll study them and see what comes up.
“Thank you, Twilight.” Celestia put her front legs on the floor. “If that was all we wished to talk about, I think I shall head to bed—”
“Sister,” Luna said.
Celestia froze, pain on her face.
“There is yet one more matter.” Luna tilted her head to Cadence. “And yes, it is far more a problem than an issue.”
“Fair enough,” Cadence said.
“The matter of who is to raise the sun—” Luna set her jaw. “—now that you cannot.”
Celestia’s eyes were wide, her pupils expanded. Her mouth popped. “I—I was hoping one of you would take over, I suppose.”
“Twilight is not yet nearly as strong as us,” Luna said. “Cadence is untrained and would need assistance. I can manage, but it is taxing on me, as it was on you for a thousand years.”
Celestia gritted her teeth. “You cannot be suggesting what I think you are.”
“In time…” Luna crossed her forelegs and nodded. “We give the sun back to the people.”
Celestia sucked in air. “I won’t allow it.”
“Sister, sister, sister!” Luna pointed with her pinion feathers. “This very thing is why striking you down was so very devastating to the country! Without you, there is no viable substitute. Without you, there is no Equestria as we know it. You have your hooves in everything and it came apart within weeks.”
Celestia stood up with her wings spread and her voice loud. “Because without me, everything returns to the old days! The days of fear and anger! Of monsters around every corner and fools leading the people! Of petty squabbles over crops and weather and whether the sun shall rise or not! The four of us have a responsibility to make sure that does not come to pass!”
She let out a loud breath and let her wings fall slack. “That is why I took control of the sun. To put an end to the mindlessness of it all. To give it back… it scares me.”
The hair along her back prickled. She shuddered and lowered her head. “I’m scared. For the first time in a long time, I am well and truly terrified of what’s to come.”
Twilight brushed up against her side. Celestia reached her foreleg around her former student.
“It is a matter of necessity, Celestia,” Luna said. “If we four fall, or lie unable to touch the celestial objects, it leaves them open to corruption. What if Ahuizotl, or this ‘Lord of the Sky,’ gain the power to move the sun and moon? We must have ponies ready to take up this solemn duty. Good ponies, with full knowledge of the responsibility they face.”
Celestia rested her chin on Twilight’s head for the second time that day. “I know.”
Cadence sucked in her cheek. “Maybe we can offer it as a course to the most promising students of the School for Gifted Unicorns? Look for ponies who exhibit Element-like behavior? Who have good values and a sense of right-standing?”
“I cannot read minds,” Celestia said.
“No, but we can read ponies.” Cadence gave the others a halfhearted smile. “Even your darkest failures have a spark of light in them. Luna, Sunset… they turned out okay in the end.”
Luna brushed her mane over her shoulder. “We just have to practice on your openness and willingness to share information. That is, shall we say, pretty darn important right about now.”
Celestia touched the scar on her chest. She gazed at it with weak eyes. She heaved a sigh which reached from her mouth to her hooves. “I find myself unable to argue. You speak the truth… and that’s becoming a theme, I sense.”
Cadence rubbed her forehead. She blew a raspberry and pushed her chair back. “I think that’s enough royal business for one day. Let’s do lunch. Life’s easier when you’re eating.”
Luna snorted. “Which is why she has yet to lose the pounds gained during her second pregnancy.”
Cadence sent her a fiery grin. “Can it, string bean, I’m still the hottest princess in the land.”
“Verily, I hath not thy shapeliness,” Luna said with a quirked eyebrow, “but my bod hath become far more muscular and fit, and thus desirable.”
Cadence scowled. “You’re not even trying to be period-correct anymore, are you?”
“Nay.” Luna chuckled. “Not so long as it goads you on.”
Celestia smiled as she watched her sister and niece walk down the staircase. She looked to Twilight. “You see? They really do love each other.”
Twilight laughed silently. She rested her head against Celestia’s shoulder and walked by her side. They descended the stairwell, one hoof step at a time.
***
Daring Do packed her bags with her reference books, her lab materials, and her gear. She snuck Time’s time-stop gauntlet into the bottom of her suitcase. Before long, she had cleared all her stuff out of her guest room.
She walked down the hallways and stairways of the castle. The crystal glistened soft blue all around her. Outside the windows, snow fell in light flurries. A good feeling tugged at the corner of her mouth.
Blankety Blank lugged his suitcase through the throne room. He popped the wheels out to give himself an easier time. He waved to Daring. “Hi.”
“Hay, Blank.” Daring Do tipped her helmet. “I didn’t see you at the funeral.”
“I was there.” Blankety faced forward and walked towards the stairs. “Hidden. I p-payed my respects.”
“Oh. Good.” Daring Do rubbed an ache in her left wing. “I was afraid you wouldn’t feel welcome or something.”
“I’m not welcome. B-by default.” Blank tilted his head. “It doesn’t stop me, though.”
Daring checked her watch. Perfect timing. “I wanted to ask you something. Feel like taking on a job?”
“S-so soon?” Blankety laughed. “It hardly feels like this adventure is over.”
“It never ends, buddy.” Daring unrolled a scroll from her chest pocket. It depicted a curved knife with etchings along the blade. “Before I got roped into this debacle, I was hot on the trail of this doohickey. A knife that was used in the First Age for pony sacrifice. The idea is to get our hooves on it before Ahuizotl does.”
“Y-you looking for a second?”
“More like a dozenth. I’ve got a team working on it already.” She let a soft smile touch her lips. “But… I think having a second Knight of Harmony on the job would be awesome. Especially if it’s you. You’ve got the right stuff, Blank.”
“Exotic locations, d-daring rescues, p-perilous traps… S-sounds like a party.” Blankety Blank examined the artist’s reproduction of the dagger. “When do we start?”
“Five seconds ago.”
Daring Do pushed the front doors open. Martial Paw the griffon had his talon poised to knock. When he saw her, he lowered his eyelids and took a step back.
“Dr. Do, we’ve reached the end of the passageway in the old palace.” Martial Paw took a long, wide sheet of paper from Humphrey the camel. “A map was carved into the stone. We took a rubbing of it.”
Daring Do held up the map. It was almost wider than her forelegs could reach. “We’ll take it back to the college and find a point of reference. We’ll track down that blade or my name isn’t Daring Do.”
Blankety Blank snickered. “Whatever you s-say, Miss Yearling.”
Daring Do pointed at him without looking. “Don’t make me regret my decision.” She lowered the map, folding it as she went. “Have the airship prepared to leave the instant the ceremony is over. I wanna get a move on.”
Martial glanced at Canter Mountain, sitting in the distance. He gave her a weak smile. “In a hurry to leave?”
Daring Do closed her eyes. A snowflake fell on the tip of her snout. “Nah. The sooner we get going, the sooner we can come back.”
Martial and Humphrey snapped their heads towards each other. Humphrey rubbed the top of his head. “You have unfinished business here, Friend Yearling?”
“Yeah. You could say that.” Daring grabbed Blank around the neck. “This here is Blankety Blank. He’s our new changeling.”
Blankety sighed. “You just have no c-concept of subtlety, do you?”
“Nope!” Daring Do let him go and brushed past Martial and Humphrey. “You guys coming? The train’s gonna pull out soon.”
Martial lowered his eyebrows. He clicked his beak before addressing Blank. “So. Changeling, huh?”
Blankety pressed his lips together. “L-last I checked.”
“M’kay.” Martial Paw shouldered his bag and strutted towards the train station. “Welcome to the crew.”
***
Spike tiptoed through the halls of Canterlot Castle, making his way to the kitchen. He stepped around shattered windows and askew tapestries. A chill crawled its way past his heavy coat and tickled his scales. The sun set behind him, casting long shadows across the floor, pointing the way towards his goal.
He ran a hand along the wall, stopping it at the door frame to the luncheon area. He peered around the corner and let one eye take the sight in. The four alicorns sat around the wooden table, eating sandwiches and speaking of light things. Easy things. Uncomplicated things.
Celestia laughed the loudest.
Spike watched her. A tear entered his eye; she really was alright. She really was alive and fighting. He hadn’t believed it. He had thought her gone for good, dead, not coming back. The scar on her chest was a testament to her spirit. She would not give up.
So neither would Spike.
He turned next to Twilight, who remained quiet. She smiled and laughed, but there was nary a hint of her musical voice. She wore Rainbow Dash’s white scarf over her throat, and tugged at it habitually. Spike gripped the frame. If he wouldn’t stop fighting, neither would she. They’d find a way to get her voice back. He was sure of it.
“Spike, what are you waiting for?” Cadence said. “Quit acting like a stalker and join us!”
Spike eased himself into the room. “I… I just wanted to say hi. I’m glad you’re alright.”
“Don’t be such a stranger, Spike!” Celestia laughed. “Come here. I think we’re all well overdue for a hug.”
Spike’s breath caught in his throat. His tail curled around his legs. He stood stock-still, his hands gripping each other tight.
Twilight got down from her seat. She walked slowly across the room. She reached Spike and lowered her head to look into his eyes.
“I c-can’t,” he said. “I c-can’t touch you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Luna stood up with a scrap of her chair. “Spike, what happened was—”
He fixed her with a desperate, horrified stare. He shook his head until he saw her back down.
“—happened…” Luna cleared her throat. “I happened to speak to Shardscale earlier this month, and she said that if a dragon does not take care of their inner flame, they shall enter a hundred-year sleep to recharge. Are you in danger of falling ill to these effects?”
“N-no.” Two sizzling tears fell down his scales. “I spoke with her a couple years ago. I’m still pretty small, so my inner flame doesn’t have to do much to reach full steam. I’ll be good until I’m a couple hundred years old, I think. As long as I stay warm.”
He smiled at Twilight. “As long as you don’t mind me being a little sleepy.”
Twilight’s gaze moved across his face, searching every inch for a hint of his inner emotions. After a moment, she pulled out a pad and paper and wrote. I missed you, Spike.
“I missed you, too, Twilight.” He wrung his hands so tight that his knuckles popped. “A lot.”
Twilight tilted her head and lowered her ears. What happened while I was gone?
“N-not much,” he said. “Just, you know, taking care of the Castle. I moved into the library, just so I’m closer to the books. You know how it is.”
Twilight Sparkle opened her wings slightly. Spike, tell me what really happened. I can help.
“I know, it’s—” Spike switched to rubbing his shoulders. “It’s something I have to work through, first. I’ll talk about it later. Like, later-later.”
Twilight sighed. But will you listen to what I need to talk about?
Spike took the paper in his claws. He nodded his head as quickly as he could. “Of course, Twilight! I’ll do anything you want. Really.”
Then even if you won’t hug me, may I hug you?
Spike’s eyes spilled over. “Yeah,” he squeaked.
He held still as Twilight wrapped her forelegs and wings around him. She held him close, careful to avoid his steaming tears. Celestia came from behind and hugged the both of them, a radiant smile on her muzzle.
Cadence looked to Luna and shrugged. She whispered out of the corner of her mouth. “I’d be stupid not to get in on this group hug.”
Luna chuckled. “I second that.”
The four alicorns gathered around Spike, lending him and each other their love. He shook as he cried—with happiness or sorrow, he wasn’t sure. The final squeeze came too soon, and was followed closely by their parting. He shuffled back a step.
“W-well, I’ve got somewhere I need to go—”
No you don’t, he thought.
“—so I’ll let you get back to lunch. I’ll see you at the knighting.”
He scampered out of the room, letting his subconscious direct him through the castle. It was devoid of anypony save for an occasional guard and himself. He had free reign. He could go anywhere he wanted and nobody would talk to him.
He wouldn’t have to explain himself to anybody. He wouldn’t have to confront what he did. He wouldn’t have to deal with their horrified expressions and false assurances that they didn’t think less of him.
He was across the ballroom before he knew it, pushing aside the doors and entering the garden. The giant tree rose as a bare skeleton of black branches over the white landscape. Stone benches were frozen over with snow and ice. Flower beds were bare patches of dirt. Everything was dead, and quiet, and hushed.
A quick breath melted the snow from a seat. He nestled onto the warm stone and looked up at the sleeping tree. It stood tall; alone. He kinda felt he could identify with it in a weird, arboreal way.
“You stand out like a sore thumb out here, you know.”
Spike choked. He swore under his breath and looked up. Care Carrot shuffled a meter away, her steps making no noise in the light snow. She wore a heavy, red, checkered coat.
“Hay, Care.” Spike drummed his claws on his knees. “Congratulations on your knighthood.”
“Thanks.” She tilted her horn towards the bench. “May I?”
“Yeah. I don’t—” He stopped himself. His first instinct was to say “I don’t own it,” but he felt it was too harsh. “I don’t mind.”
Care settled down. She rocked on her rump, gazing up at the tree. “I always thought winter was a sad season. Everything’s asleep. I mean, there’s Hearth’s Warming, but that always feels more like a defiance of winter, you know?”
He nodded. “Cold. Quiet. Dim.”
Care let her foreleg drop to the snow. She swished her hoof around. “But it’s not all bad. The world needs to rest. It needs to sleep so that it can wake up refreshed. You trudge through the hard winter long enough, you eventually find spring.”
Spike stared hard at the dark bark. He crossed his legs and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Sounds like a metaphor for life.”
“Isn’t everything?” Care lifted the snow and rolled it around in her hooves. “I never got the chance to properly thank you.”
“For what?”
“Saving my life.” Care glanced at him, though he refused to look back. “I’d have been paste if not for you. And who knows what would have happened then? You sorta-kinda indirectly saved Equestria again.”
“Story of my life.” Spike buried his head in his hands. “I do something absolutely stupid and everybody tells me I’m a hero.”
“What you did wasn’t stupid.” Care punched his shoulder. “You acted, which is a heck of a lot more than most people have the privilege of saying. You directly saved my life. That means something to me. Something deep and strong.”
She set the snow beside her and rested her foreleg across his shoulders. “You’re my friend, Spike. One that I’m darn lucky to have. One that I’d like to keep as my friend, if you’re willing.”
Spike’s claws dug into his scales. “I’d be a monster to say no, wouldn’t I?”
Care narrowed her eyes. “You’re not a monster, Spike.”
“Aren’t I?” He looked at her, his cheek wet and giving off steam. “I look at my hands and they keep turning red. I did something horrible, so how can it possibly have been the right thing to do?”
Care sighed. She slid her hooves along his arm until she touched his hands. “I don’t know. I don’t know if it really was the right thing to do. But what I do know…”
She waited until he was looking at her. She smiled. “You charged down that hallway, and you weren’t thinking about yourself. You risked your life for me. You were brave, and strong, and noble.”
She scootched back to get herself more comfortable. She rolled the chunk of snow. “You know what? You’re my hero.”
Spike cleared his throat. He scratched tiny furrows through the stone. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
He looked down at his open palms. She stuck the snowball between his fingers. “You’re cooler than you think,” she said. “You’re not a murderer. You’re a mighty dragon that protects his friends.”
He pinched the snowball between his forefingers. It was perfectly packed. “It still hurts.”
“It probably will for a long time.” Care lifted herself off the bench and took a step towards the tree. “I just want you to know that I’m glad you were there for me.”
He held the ball close to his chest. “I want to be there for all my friends.”
Care placed her hoof on the tree and grinned. “Good.”
Spike gave her a lopsided smile. “Question is, how do you get rid of a constant dull ache?”
A snowball hit him square in the nose. He tumbled backwards into a snow bank. He snorted steam and snow as he sat up. “Wh—whoa?”
Care tossed a snowball to herself. “The beatings will continue until morale improves.”
A slow, beastly grin overtook Spike’s face. He hefted the snowball she’d given him. “Never arm the enemy—”
Her next snowball impacted the side of his head. She laughed loud and long. “I hope you throw faster than you talk!”
His snowball hit her right in the chest. Her old injuries protested all at once. She held back a vicious swear. “I guess I was asking for that one.”
Spike ran her way, rolling a snowball as he went. “More where that came from!”
She ducked behind the tree and flung snow his way. “Cliché after cliché, I’m almost impressed!”
They chased each other around the tree, tossing snowballs and zingers. Within a few minutes, both were covered in snow and sweat. They collapsed into the snow banks, but not before Spike doused Care with an armful of the stuff.
Twilight Sparkle watched from the window, a small smile decorating her face. She felt a presence at her side.
“He looks better already,” Luna said.
Twilight nodded. I sort of wish I had helped with that.
“You’ll get that chance.” Luna placed a hoof on Twilight’s back. “Healing takes time, after all. He needs you as much as you need him.”
Twilight lay against her forehooves. As much as you need Celestia?
“Nearly.” Luna tugged on the tips of Twilight’s wings. “Come now. The air is cold and the fire is warm. You were just telling me about that book you were writing…”
***
The Canterlot Castle throne room was empty of petitioners. The doors had been closed off and locked, with no admittance save for a select few. The banners beside the throne were two-fold: the sun on one side, and the moon on the other. Celestia and Luna stood together, facing the end of the hall.
Light lined the walls, illuminating the stained glass windows depicting the major moments of Equestrian history. The Fall of Nightmare Moon, the Imprisonment of Discord, the Return of Harmony, and others. Blank windows awaited new memories, while old ones were constantly polished to maintain their sheen.
Care Carrot turned her eyes to the latest stained glass design. It depicted Princess Celestia, lying on her back, her wings spread, a spear jutting up from her heart. Commander Hurricane flew above her, silvery blades scattered throughout her wings.
An orange unicorn, a gray unicorn, a mustardy pegasus, a brown earth pony, and a changeling all stood around Celestia, shielding her from the commander. An array of soldiers and griffons lay beneath her, their spears raised in defense.
The glassworker had named the work of art “DayBreak.”
Care walked down the aisle beside Twilight Velvet. The six Bearers of the Elements of Harmony were in attendance, as well as Velvet’s immediate family. Care smirked as she realized that three generations of Twilights were present: Twilight Velvet, Twilight Sparkle, and Twilight Amore. Spike stood beside Shining Armor, Cadence, and Silver Lance, all four full of smiles. Night Light blew his wife a kiss.
On the other side, Care saw Daring Do and Blankety Blank, both cheering her on. Other Knights of Harmony surrounded them, featuring several faces Care couldn’t recognize. The ones she did recognize were fairly public figures: Sweetie Drops was a critical component in the defeat of the Bugbears, though she vehemently denied it. She almost thought she saw the doughnut maker from downtown, but decided that was crazy.
After an altogether too-short walk, she was at the throne. Windblown and Skyhook stood beside their representative princesses. Windblown stepped forward with a gold circlet and placed it on her head. Skyhook had a circlet for Velvet, though his eyes kept jumping to Care.
Luna bent over and touched each of Twilight Velvet’s shoulders with her horn. She did the same with Care, giving her a wink.
Celestia touched her horn to their shoulders next, whispering a prayer and blessing. She finished with a kiss to their foreheads. She bid them turn around and face the crowd.
Care and Velvet gripped each other’s forehooves and held them above their heads. They stood tall as their friends and family charged onto the dais. Care joined with the cheers wholeheartedly, screaming until her throat was hoarse. Applejack pulled her into a rough hug and rubbed her mane. Spike traded a hoof-bump. Daring sang off-key while Blankety let out bubbly laughter.
Twilight Velvet, Knight of Counsel, and Care Carrot, Knight Sentinel, followed the crowd down the stairs to kick the full celebration into gear.