Twilight looked out to the stones, reading the engravements as though they were upon one of her own. Below each name was a title or something they earned before it happened; before they risked their lives. Twilight pushed aside the muddy papers she’d left there a month before, replacing them with fresh, new letters she’d written the last night. They were her remaining words, a truth she never told them. It was a word that could’ve prevented all of this. Still, she chose to keep her peace and watch her friends as they fall from the sky, reaching out to her as they were swallowed into the crevasse, never to be discovered again.
Light pitters of a nightly rain fell upon their heads. The heads of her friends, the ones lost to a tragedy of her doing. This was their field; this was their resting place. Nopony dared wander here, at least, not anymore. Twilight dropped the last letter by the sixth stone, slowly making her way to a tree she and her friends once enjoyed as a gathering. Before long, night would fall and a guard would ask,
“Shouldn’t you be coming along, Princess?”
Twilight knew the routine well. She’d then sigh and look away into the everlasting sunset before somberly replying, “Just a few more minutes.”
As this was the way it was set since they were forgotten. Forgotten to all but the one who lied, the one who could have stopped it and the one who could have forgiven. They were all she, of course, the one staring out from beneath a farmer’s tree. A tree withholding life from her grasp below, no longer would this tree yield fruit for her, no longer would her friends respect her dying wish, no longer would she rest in peace. For no one, but the letters, knew her secret.
The princess pressed her bleeding hoof against the bark; it was a tradition. A payment of guilt is what she called it. A testament to her friends is what she’d pledge. For each night before the thirtieth, she’d cut below her wrist, draining her shame into a vial to use for ink, writing a letter worthy of sending. She wrote with a quill made from her own, pulled from her fine, pampered wings. Taken from the spines of her remorse, she wept; writing in which the blood she’d drawn would dry before she wrote. The tears she streamed and let go took aim, drenching the parchment before it, too, could be written upon. And although she’d tried a many times before, each stroke only seemed heavier than the last. With no pain removed from her scarred memory, she took to note the letters and remembered the past as though it lay before her, dying in the gorge whom slay her companions.
Twilight wiped the tears from her face, taking her seat beneath the fruitful tree so she could stare out once more. Each month, she did this. Taking the time from her duties to try and tell the stones her truth so she could rest happily the following night. Never before had she accomplished this, so in turn, she could not cease continuation. Her routine was known well by the guards and was often included in their opening statement:
”Do not bother the princess on the thirtieth”
It was a quote taken lightly until they discovered the truth. Until they discovered what happened on that day. That day the world fell to pieces, and left Twilight the one to watch it unravel. Twilight recited the letters under her breath, shedding countless tears as she held together the strong face her teacher had taught. Remembering the days when it was simpler, and
easy to forget, the days when she knew no one, but herself.
As the alicorn continued to stare out into the grave, an unpleasant guest, the rain, began to pick up, leaving the guards who waited, worried. As each of the three disputed who would go and who would stay, the princess waited. She knew of their nature, and it was only a matter of time before one came to ask for departure. As expected, one arrived mere minutes following the thought that occurred,
“Princess Twilight, how long will you stay?”
It was of different context, but in all the matter, it was still the same question. Twilight smiled; this was the new recruit,
“Just a moment longer; I wish to enjoy the rain.”
The metal of glistening armor rustled in the downpour as he shuffled his hooves, unsure if an explanation would be outside his order. Twilight smiled once more, daring not to break the gaze of the stones to look at the soldier behind her.
“Speak your mind, dearest one. You wish to know why?”
The newbie guard looked around, wondering if he was truly the one being called for. The princess nodded, patting the ground beside her, signaling him to sit for a short while. As instructed, he did, taking his helmet from atop his head and setting it off to the side. He waited patiently for the princess to speak her mind, but all she did was stare. Stare into the rain to look down upon the tombstones of her lifeless friends. They were only memories, now; their legacy was only preserved through the stains of glass hidden behind the castle drapes. They were forgotten to all, but one. Twilight chuckled, turning to the young colt for the first time, seeing how inexperienced he was from the get go.
“My friends were brave,” she began, resting her head upon the topsoil roots of the tree, “They were most courageous and kind. Loyal and daring, many would say.”
She paused, staring out to the stones one last time. The guard fidgeted about, “W-What happened, your highness? What happened to your friends?”
The Princess Twilight chuckled once more, peeling her eyes from the distant memories, “Ooh, they’re gone now. And… I fear it was because of my actions. The way they peered deep into my eyes when they fell. The cries they screamed when they yelled, falling to their death; I couldn’t save them. No, I could’ve saved them, but I didn’t.”
The guard looked upon the princess with confusion, stuttering a question that would’ve been asked by many,
“But… why spend so much time here? It sounds as though you despised them.”
“Despised?” She gawked, “Why would I do such a thing? I loved my friends! I… just wish I could’ve told them…”
The guard leaned in closer, “Told them what?”
The royal one sighed, lying her shabby gold crown upon the grass beside her,
“That I was the cause. I created this mess, but I only wanted to help them,” she pointed toward the stone tablets sticking out from the ground, “those names were all my life. And now? Now they’re nothing but a stained glass window hidden in the empty corridors of a forgotten castle.”
“But I know who they were! I heard you and your friends saved Equestria upon dozens
of times in the past!”
The aged princess laughed once more, “That’s the past, my friend, and that’s all but relevant.”
Twilight Sparkle waved the guard off, calling to him from where she lay,
“Go on without me! I’ll catch up in time!”
The guard, seeing no reason to argue, went ahead and told the others of his conversation. Having won the bet he’d made, the guards all went out for the night, leaving the sickly princess alone in the rain to mourn for one last time.