Maple Syrup

by Garbo

Life Goes On

Author's Note:

Thanks goes out to Seether00 for advice on this. Just a thing I wrote. The end result wasn't what I was hoping for, so it ended up here.

Cloudsdale had the best parties. This was something that Twilight had picked up on over the years. Of course, there were many different types of parties in Equestia. Canterlot had it’s balls, high society events which Twilight honestly enjoyed a good deal of the time. As uptight as the upper crust could be, they were also very intelligent people, and the kind of ponies she had grown up around in her early childhood.

Hoofington had it’s barbeques of hay fries and soy steaks. She’d always liked these great outdoor celebrations. They were boisterous, informal, and always afforded you the opportunity to meet somepony new and discuss anything from hoofball to interspecies politics. The best part of these was that every one of them was different.

But there was just something about Cloudsdale. The music was a big part of it, as the pegasi had always seemed to be the most in touch with music, just as history had seen many unicorn writers and earth pony painters. And it came in many different varieties. There was music from the old techno craze, the even older rock craze, the pop that always seemed to hang around no matter the decade, and the modern genres, which Twilight couldn’t even begin to describe. They were loud, and they were happy as happy could be.

Watching the festivities from a short distance, a certain Canterlot princess was keenly aware of the importance. This celebration marked the centennial of her ascension to the throne; her final destiny; the proudest moment of a life that would last into near infinity. A lot had changed in the 100 years since her transformation. There had been many social changes that had gone on, but despite not being the socially awkward mare she’d once been, the princess had little interest in those. It was the strides in magical research that had been made by her subjects, and she was glad that the field had come so far despite her absence. Equestrian society was on the brink of the realization that all three magics -Unicorn, Pegasus, and Earth – were one and the same. She knew that this realization would make a new unification between the species, a spiritual successor to what had been done in the wake of the first Hearth’s Warming Eve.

As an alicorn, Twilight knew all of these things. But there was a catch – yes, there was always a catch. She remembered some of the first rules she’d been told as a Princess: Allow the ponies to make their own discoveries. That limitation had taken her a while to get used to, and certain revelations in particular were hard to contain. First and foremost was the existence of a realm beyond death, and infinitely many realms beyond that. When she’d been Celestia’s student, she’d asked her teacher how she coped with having so many friends die over time. Taking her attention off of the party, she allowed her mind to wander back to those early days.

---

Sighing, Twilight turned over the page of her test with a simple spell. She knew this was the last page, that she was almost done. Smiling, she looked up to see her mentor doing the same.

“Yes Twilight, you’re almost done. Just one more chart and we’re done for the day.”

The filly looked out the window. The sun was only halfway up the sky. She would have a whole afternoon off. She turned back to her paper in earnest. The test was a new concept for her, but one she’d studied for the last few weeks. Now, she’d nearly mastered the Magia Mensa system, the systematic graphing of spells invented by Starswirl the Bearded. She looked at the title of the spell, which like most of magical works was in the old tongue.

“Exquisitus Materiae? What does that mean?”

“That’s the first form of the cloning spell,” said Celestia. “I’d assume you know this one as well, correct?”

Twilight thought for just a moment, as a moment was all she needed. Without answering, she picked the quill up in her magical aura, dipped it in the ink, and had the chart drawn within the minute. When she finished, her teacher inspected her work.

“Great job, Twilight. You did all the magical fluxes perfectly … there is a little inaccuracy on the second period of the sine function, but it looks like it was just the slip of a quill anyway. You don’t need to-“

Twilight’s face was as mortified as a young filly’s would get. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to mess that up!”

The princess sighed, taking her student under her wing. “Twilight, it’s fine. Everypony makes mistakes, and most ponies make a lot more than you do. That was the only mistake you made on the entire test, after all.”

“But that’s not any better,” Twilight whined. “I got all the way to the end – after all that hard work – and then just hoofed it.”

Celestia’s eyes widened at that remark, her eyes taking a somewhat glazed appearance, as if she were remembering something she’d recently forgotten. From the look on her face, the young filly below could tell something was wrong. Not knowing what else to do and wanting to cheer the princess up, Twilight nuzzled her leg, a gesture that would have been considered blasphemy in any other sort of circumstance. The warm contact pulled the tall mare out of her troubling memory, the glazed look falling from her eyes like the fog off of a window on a midwinter sunrise. It was then that Twilight asked the question:

“Princess? Why were you so, uh, distant like that? Was it because I swore? I know I’m not supposed to do that but sometime I just can’t help myself.”

“No Twilight, it wasn’t that.” Keeping her composure as best she could, she walked out of the study and down to the library proper. She turned around to motion for Twilight to follow, only to realize that the filly had kept pace. She walked ahead, and her student followed, the high-pitched beats of her hooves contrasting with the low thumps of Celestia’s. Trying to save face, she did what she always did at the longer events she was forced to go on: she put on a smile. It was something she’d had centuries to practice, an expression that could fool any aristocrat, any diplomat, any noble. But for some reason, it never seemed to work on Twilight Sparkle.

“What’s wrong? I know something’s wrong. Is it super-secret? Can you tell me?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Twilight. Just a bad memory. They happen to the best of us.”

“Like messing up the test?” Asked the filly, grimacing.

“Exactly. Sometimes you do something that you wish you could do again, on the off chance that you might do it right the next time. But part of life is that there are no second chances, my young student. There are some things you just have to forget, lest they take control of your life.”

Twilight took a moment to think about that one. Normally, the great pony was full of life as she taught her the ways of magic. But now, there was a sorrow she could not explain, a sorrow she needed to understand. She didn’t like unsolved questions, and she wasn’t about to let this one go unchecked.

“Then what about all your friends?”

Now it was Celestia’s turn to contemplate. “What about them?”

“Well, this is sort of something I’ve been wondering about. Well, you … you live for a really long time, but everypony else doesn't. And, I mean, everypony likes you, so I know you must have had friends, right? But then they would die, and you’d be all on your own. Can you just forget them too?”

If Twilight had any idea how deeply that question pained her mentor, how much she mulled over it daily, she never would have asked it.

“Twilight, as ruler of Equestria, I have to be ever vigilant of my royal duties. But even I cannot forget those who touched my life and have passed on; nopony can.”

Walking out of the indoor area of the castle, the two walked onto the balcony, the bright sun shining in stark contrast to the conversation at hoof. Walking to the edge, the princess looked over it, not so much looking for anything in particular as just wanting something to stare at. She glanced to her right and saw Twilight there. The filly wasn’t talking, and she wondered if the conversation might be too somber for a foal of her age.

“But how does that feel, having to go through that? I mean, I can’t imagine what I’d do if I never got to see Shining again; my mom and dad too.”

Celestia’s first thought was that her student was starting to sound like a psychiatrist. Inwardly, she chuckled at her joke. It wasn’t that funny, but she needed something to laugh at. She also needed to turn this conversation around before Twilight ended up mentally scarred. “Well, it’s not always … moving on that takes our friends away from us. Sometimes they’re just gone for a short time, although sometimes it can seem like forever. That’s why you have to appreciate the friends you have Twilight. Never forget that. What I teach you may be powerful, but there’s no magic more powerful than the magic of friendship.”

“What would the spell graph for friendship look like?” asked Twilight, genuinely curious.

Celestia laughed at that, turning away from the balcony and back into the castle. “Well, who knows, maybe someday you’ll find out.”

---

Opening her eyes, Twilight found herself once again back in her own time. Just to make sure, she checked behind herself, and could clearly see the wings which verified her divine right to rule more than any crown. Such simple things - the same as on a bird - gave her so much power.

And yet, they also gave her so much grief. But this was not the time to dwell on that. She'd lost some friends, but they were all decades gone. The wounds were still there, but they were healing. Indirectly, however, the deaths of her friends - not just Spike and the other elements - but the other residents of Ponyville - reminded her that every time she made a friend, she would have to see that friend perish. She'd studied friendship for her whole childhood, only to be forced into a situation where rejecting friendship had as many virtues as seeking it out. It was a cruel, twisted irony to say the least.

Twilight could be an alicorn all she wanted, and although she knew much, she did not know everything. She still couldn't figure out the magica mensa graph for friendship, and she doubted she ever would over the aeons. Smiling, she turned around and headed back into the party, because after all, it was being held in her honor.

That smile stuck well through her conversations with other ponies, well through the toast they made to her, and well through the end of the party, because although she'd lost some friends, life was still well worth living.

And life would never, never stop being interesting.

Comments

[MDNGHTRDHTLN]

It was the roar of the crowd that gave me heartache to sing | it was a lie when they smiled and said you won't feel a thing

Couldn't stop thinking of this lyric while reading this.