Twilight lay in the ashes of her home.
Tirek was gone, as was the library. Most of town was history. Had Twilight cared enough at that moment to lift her head, she would have seen small fires sputtering along the path as the few ponies who had remained behind worked quickly to put them out. She might have seen the village square torn up by Tirek’s magic, and the great furrows he had dug trying to shoot her down.
She didn’t really need to see Ponyville to know what state it was in.
But… but it could have been so much worse. She knew that, even if she couldn’t feel anything good about that fact. Most of the town had gotten out alive, after all. Tirek hadn’t shot her down, he hadn’t broken her…
If she had had the strength or the inclination to get up and survey her ruined home, she might have seen them arrive.
Applejack arrived first, haggard and worn, her face dark with ash that soiled her down past her coat where it rubbed her skin raw. Her hat was gone. A trifling detail, sure, but it was the sort of thing Twilight noticed, when the world was just a bit off its balance and the numbers not quite lining up. Her hair was singed and her brow split by a nasty cut that had scabbed over. A loose, poorly--applied bandage had been applied but it was caked with blood already.
Two mares, and no words. Applejack stood next to the reclining Twilight in the ash for a few moments, working her jaw like it was sore, and then she left. Twilight heard her rummaging for something in the other rooms. Were they rooms if the ceiling was gone?
Something ripped. She heard running water. Of all the things to still work. The sink. Amazing. Just… just amazing. She shifted a bit, her wings fluttering weakly in protest as agony crawled up her side.
Right. That was why she wasn’t moving.
Applejack returned. Twilight thought she recognized the new bandage around Applejacks’ head for a moment--her sheets? An old pre-ascension dress she’d held on to? Who knew? She didn’t, or if she did the absolute absurdity of caring about it at this juncture defeated her.
Applejack sat against what was left of the wall. She settled in, keeping away from the more splintery, jagged parts of the old tree’s base. And she watched. She waited.
More silence.
Silent enough to hear the other two coming along, in fact. One’s steps were heavy, forceful, as if she were trying to stomp something out rather than merely walking. The other’s were timid, as if this were the last place their owner wished to tread.
Twilight waited, and then lifted her head.
Rainbow Dash was to her right. Fluttershy, downcast, to her left. Applejack ahead of her. They waited. She supposed they waited for her, so she spoke.
“Well. It’s done.”
“So it is.” Applejack coughed and wiped her chin. “Reckon there ain’t much left.”
“How bad? I was a bit caught up.”
Applejack just snorted. Nopony said anything for awhile.
“A lot of town was on fire,” Rainbow answered, catching the thread. “Most ponies got far enough away. A… a couple didn’t. A few.”
“About two dozen,” Applejack said.
Twilight watched lazily as Rainbow winced. “Yeah. Yeah, about that many. Most of the shops are burnt up into nothing, about half the town at least is unrecognizable. It was better than it coulda been, I guess.”
“Like hell,” Applejack growled.
“It was,” Twilight cut in. “It was better than it could have been. We’re alive. All six of us, firstly, and most of the town. But that’s not important right now. I’m just… I’m glad you girls are safe.”
Applejack, who had half-risen, sat heavily again. “Well, I could say the same. I’m glad you girls are safe. Glad you made it out, Twi. It was touch and go, there.”
“Spent most of it losing.”
“Hey, you were pretty awesome.” Rainbow smiled down at her, but it faded. “Just… I guess it was just a little more than we expected. I mean… I don’t know. I just didn’t see it happening again.”
“Nopony did.”
“You think so? Y’all really think that?”
Three heads swiveled. They waited for her to go on, but mostly they all saw her for the first time. Her chest heaved, her face flushed with a barely contained fury. Twilight winced pre-emptively, wanting to say something, anything to cut off the storm she could feel coming, but nothing came in time.
“Cause I wonder just how much I believe that,” Applejack continued. “I mean, think ‘bout it, Twi. They knew all about him, didn’t they? They knew to give you all their power last time, and they had a plan. This time? Where were they? Where was Celestia and Luna when we needed ‘em?”
She spat.
“Applejack, wait--”
“No, I’m kinda with her on this one,” Rainbow said. “I mean, I wouldn’t go that far. Maybe? I don’t know. I just know that they weren’t here, and we really could have used them.”
“And, yeah, if I’m gon’ entertain the notion that they genuinely had no clue what might be comin’, then I hold this against them--that they never showed hide nor tail here in Ponyville where it all went down. I know they can get here fast if the need’s pressin’, and where were they?”
“It’s not that fast,” Twilight said, but Applejack rolled on.
“Is it cowardice? Or is it somethin’ else? Were they afraid? I can understand bein’ afraid. Hell, I was afraid and I was here! Seein’ a thing usually makes it easier to turn back towards it and go down fighting. It’s the thinking that kills ya, the not-seein’, the not-knowing. But I coudl almost forgive that, but it ain’t that. No, the more I think it the less sense it makes. It don’t fit their character. I mean, yeah, she ain’t been exactly quick to jump into the fray since you came along, but she never really hid so much as sentcha.”
“If you think that fear would keep Celestia from helping her little ponies,” Twilight began, forcing each word to be hard and crisp, “then you’re so wrong that I’m honestly not sure where to begin.”
Twilight struggled to stand. In that moment, just for that moment, all the enmity was gone. They surged forward to support her trembling, to set her hooves atop the ruins. But as she steadied, she gently pushed them aside and continued her speech.
“When Tirek came the first time, they gave up their power in desperate hope that I might be able to save Equestria. That hope was so small, so remote, so dependent upon me. They chose to give up everything that protected them in order to save everyone.”
Rainbow frowned, but Applejack stomped her hoof and leaned back in. “Maybe, but I could argue they were throwin’ the scent off of them and onto you.”
“And you’d be wrong, AJ. Dead wrong. When they did that, they did it for all of us. Even if you think it was a bad plan, you have to see that they were trying. We can move on from there--Celestia has spent so long keeping Equestria safe that you and I can hardly imagine it all.”
“And gettin’ richly rewarded, too.”
“Where is this coming from?”
Applejack seethed. “From… From… Hell, Twi, look around. You seen this town? It’s gone. Ponies are dead, and they sat pretty in Canterlot in sight of us.”
“We don’t know that they just sat there at all,” Twilight said. “Tirek didn’t come like he did last time. He didn’t fight like he did last time. There wasn’t any power-stealing. Whatever that artifact he had was, it changed him. Don’t you remember how the princesses both helped me with that evacuation plan? You know, the one that helped most of us get out alive?” Twilight pointed a hoof at her. “Applejack, you think I don’t care? I do. This is my home. I’m in the literal ashes of my actual home. Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”
“What could they have been doing, then?” Rainbow Dash cut in. “Where were they?”
“I don’t know.” Twilight swallowed. “I don’t know. And you know what? Neither do you. Do you know? Did you see them? Did you know what they were doing then? Do you know now?”
“I mean, no--”
“Then just say you don’t and stop there. You don’t know. I can go off what I know for sure, or I can idly speculate about… about b-bullshit until the sun goes back down. We all can.” Twilight’s chest was heaving. She had advanced on Rainbow, who had scooted back. “What are you trying to say, anyway?”
And, at last, Fluttershy spoke.
“I think… I’m sorry, Twilight. It’s just that… It’s just that you were the one who was there for us, after all. Not Luna or Celestia or the Royal Guard. It was you.”
Twilight’s hoof dropped.
“I was the one closest. It’s my home. And I let it burn.”
“Oh, not at all. You were defending us all the while.”
“You girls helped. Where… where’s Pinkie?”
“Cheerilee’s with her,” Rainbow murmured, looking down at the ground.
“Rarity too,” Fluttershy said. “Twilight, why shouldn’t we be upset? Did you know that Pokey Pierce, down the street, is dead?”
“I… I didn’t.” Twilight swallowed again. “I wasn’t sure who all…”
“Our friends are dead,” continued the shyest, the quietest, the kindest of their circle. “And when they were dying, the ponies we loved and trusted more than anypony else simply… weren’t there. But you were. Twilight, you were there.”
“And we trust you, sugar. We trust you.”
“Those two can go… whatever. I just know I trust you. You’re the only one we can trust,” Dash said. “Just you.”
Fluttershy nodded. They all leaned in. They hugged a stock-still Twilight, who couldn’t bear to look down and meet their eyes.
“I… I appreciate that,” Twilight said as delicately as she could. She hugged them back.
What was there to say?
It was ridiculous. It was foolish and childish and reactionary and… and…
And, see, there they came--the images. The heat of battle. Herself, soarin upwards at a towering Tirek as his hands burnt with balefire, as his eyes burnt with malice, as her home burnt. The smell of seared flesh and smoke, of uprooted earth and burning thatch roof. The sky absent of sun and devoid of moon, just red--crimson red, blood red, whatever words seemed more fitting--
And it really had been in sight of the castle, hadn’t it?
Would there be a letter? Would Celestia come down, parting the clouds? Would she crack the sky like an egg, hot like lightning from Heaven, to shield her beleaguered student? Would Luna come to hide her from the heat of the day?
She didn’t know.
But she said yes, regardless.
“They’ll come.”
They looked at her, and she cleared her throat. Her eyes burned.
“They’ll come. Now, or later, and we’ll know. I don’t have the answers you want, girls. I don’t, and I’m sorry. But I know Princess Celestia and I love her. I know Luna and I trust her. If they weren’t here, there was a reason. And if they don’t come? Then I’ll go myself. I’ll ask her. Because I know, I really, truly know, that she’ll answer me.”
Luna detached herself from the dream and without ceremony it dissolved. She grimaced into the aether, and it did nothing back. It was expressionless, blank like a stoic face upon the first water.
It had been a poorly constructed illusion, and a poorly conceived test. She would have to try harder, be more stern. She would have to reach deeper.
This proved nothing, really.
Luna drifted past other dreams, still holding Twilight Sparkle’s sleeping spirit between her forelegs. It was dimmer now, recovering and preparing for its next dreaming sight. Dreams expanded and faded, like a breathing chest of a sleeping mare. She remembered once how Celestia had asked her if they were like living things, and she had shook her head and said--no, sister, they are living things. They live like ponies live for they are ponies in ways that words cannot express, that only seeing can understand, that only touching can comprehend. And only she, in these remote and distant future days, still walked among dreams and touched them.
This was the place where she felt most herself. This was the sanctum.
And in her sanctum, amidst the dreaming, teeming masses, Luna felt the pricking of doubt along her spine.
Yes, her dream had been hamfisted. Sure. It had been artless. She was out of practice! Such was a first attempt at a careful task after such a long hiatus. Twilight’s answer had been perfectly acceptable. It just wasn’t satisfying.
And why did she care? Why, really, was she so worried?
Something pulled at Luna and she blinked before looking away from Twilight’s dream.
Luna lived severally, one might could say. One would be wrong, of course, but it was easy to see where the idea would come from. She slept, but she was wide awake. Her body was still and her eyes were closed, but her spirit burned brightly in the space between spaces. So when her sister stepped into the center of her ornate ebony chamber, Luna felt her coming long before she let her mask slough off.
The Night’s Shepherd did not immediately rise to greet her sister. She returned her attention to the glowing dream. Twilight’s dream.
She felt something, looking into the roiling chaos of fractured, writhing light. Something a bit like regret. With a sigh, Luna leaned in and kissed the surface. It tasted first of water, then of wine, and when she pulled away she could almost hear laughter. In her grasp, the dimmed dream glowed brightly again and inside Twilight flew high in a beautiful blue sky.
It wasn’t much. It wasn’t complicated or calculated or rehearsed, but somehow it felt deserved. And it was nice, wasn’t it? Luna loved to fly. She prefered to fly in less harsh light, true, but she loved the wind in her mane and along her wings. Surely Twilight would as well?
With that, Luna let Twilight’s dream go and she was once again in the material world. She opened her eyes.
Celestia’s mask was gone. She shone with Glory. Luna’s own bounds, so comforting to mortal eyes, were loosened. Everywhere but where her sister stood, the room was shrouded in a darkness so thick that it seemed to blot out the idea of light.
“How passes the night, sister?” she asked into that darkness, and Luna regarded her.
“It passes strangely, and in deepest thought. You are awake at a late hour.”
“I had trouble sleeping.”
“You might have come to me, and sought a cure for your ailment.”
“Yes. And you think I do not have that on my mind already?”
Luna paused. Ensconced in her Glory, she could tilt her head and regard her sister with suspicious looks unhindered by the prospect of discovery.
“I doubt it.”
“I was considering it. But you know what I would first ask of you.”
Luna ground her teeth together.
In old days, experimenting with wild magic, she had changed her form many times. In crafting her perfect hunters and huntresses of all the things which stalked in darkness, she had used herself as the proving ground. The fangs had stayed. Hidden, usually. But she’d kept them. They were useful, from time to time. Now was not one of those times. She felt the bottom ones dig into her lip and she held back a little yelp.
“Speak,” Luna said. “I have been to and fro along the earth, in the immaterial world, and seen many things there.”
“Yes. I know. And you’ve seen Twilight too, I take it. Unless I have erred.”
“I saw her, yes.”
“Then, have you reached some conclusion to this matter? Surely you’ve seen that all of this was for nothing, Luna. Twilight Sparkle trusts you and loves you, as I trust and love you.”
Luna sneered from her bed and without a second thought she stabbed at the light with words. “Yes, tell me again how you wished for my help in sleeping well this night, most trusting sister.”
Celestia flinched. There was a long silence.
“She has not renounced us yet,” Luna allowed.
Celestia did not answer.
“I… I gave her a dream of flying.” Her voice sounded so small, so very small, and Celestia just stood there like a statue, like a painting. “It was… I hoped it was a nice dream.”
Celestia took a deep breath, and then… didn’t say anything. Emotions warred across her face and found themselves locked in stalemate. There was no breakthrough, and no answer.
“I have to know,” Luna said, hoping for something. “I must know beyond all doubt.”
“There is no spot beyond all doubt.”
“There must be some sort of certainty.”
Celestia shook her head and closed her eyes. “Luna, if you demand an absolute answer of all things then you will forever be disappointed. That is not the issue between us at present.”
“You cannot stop me.”
“I cannot.”
“But you still want to interfere.”
“For your sake, yes. This is foolish and self-destructive.”
Luna growled. “I need only two more nights, and then I will be satisfied.”
Celestia’s eyes for the first time that night found her in the darkness. For a brief second, Luna felt as if their light might tear her aura away. “And are you certain of that? You who would want certainty, who would demand absolute evidence, are you certain? Do you feel that you are on a path to satiation now? Will you have had your fill of discovery in two nights?”
“You don’t know.”
“And you know less than I. More and more, this is clear to me.” Celestia squeezed her eyes shut. Luna watched as she took deep breaths. When she spoke again, her voice was softer. “Will you still speak to Twilight when it is done?”
The bonds that kept each sister from wanton invasion of the other’s domain tightened around her. Luna felt them like chains and she winced as she answered, knowing the singing universe would hold her to it: “Yes, as I had planned already.”
Celestia stared at her for another moment. She bit her lip.
“Fine. Just… Please, Luna. I release you from any oath you might think you’ve sworn that would compel this. I repudiate anything I might have said that has driven you to doubt so severely your friends. It isn’t just Twilight. You’ve barely spoken to me in two weeks. You hide from your seneschal and end your court early. I love you. Please, just see that.”
“I do.”
“If you did, you would not do what you do.”
“You don--” Luna stopped, and turned around.
“I’m sorry.”
“I am also sorry.”
Celestia still glowed, still burned behind her, hot like the sun. Her back felt like it was midday, and her front felt like the surface of the dead moon.
“I will retire. Please try to get some rest, sister,” Celestia said, her voice slipping back into a stoic, formal tone before it softened again. “I’ll see you at breakfast?”
A question.
“Of course.”
And then there were no more words. Celestia trotted out. She closed the door carefully.
Luna wondered.