Where Even Gods Fear to Tread

by Maneiac

Twilight Sparkle, Part One

No matter how long time drags on, you will come to find out that some things just never change; they stay stagnant because it’s defining... deafening, even; almost as if your very person is summed up by this one little niche. But I’ve come to learn that these little niches are great rocks to set, great identifiers for yourself.

There are days where my identity eludes me, days I spend wondering if I really deserve to live anymore. As much as my people tend to believe I’m the type to lead.... I cannot see this for myself. “If anything, leadership shouldn’t belong to the cause of this mess; it should go to Princess Cadance, or one of the other girls.... maybe Applejack.”

Giving a deep sigh after that stray thought escaped the confines of my mind, I gave a brief flap of my wings and adjusted the tiara on my head slightly with a jingle of magic. Before me was the same ol’ mountain of paperwork that needed completion; an insurmountable tower of script requiring signatures that seemed to proliferate every time I averted my eyes for a second.

This room reminded me of one that used to belong to someone so worthy of it, so much more worthy of the title Princess; a mare of unquestionable grace, charm, tenderness, and irreplaceable leadership talent. She was the figurehead for this nation... and a very close friend; the very first best friend I’ve ever had. And yet, her time was so fleeting, even though she was the eldest of us all.

I bit my lip hard, forcing the wetness that had subconsciously formed in my eyes back into oblivion. “No more tears... you’re a big girl now, Twilight. Mom and Dad wouldn’t approve of this at all...” Looking down while shaking my head, my eyes and left hoof fell upon a document of intrigue among the towers of paper flanking my every side.

---

Dear Twilight,

It’s not your fault. It will never be your fault. I’m making a super-duper yummy-lovey Cherry-Berry Surprise Pie for us all.

XOXO,
Pinkamena Diane Pie

---

A deadpan expression, followed by gritted teeth is all I could give this note. I could practically feel Pinkie’s happiness effuse off this note, making me feel a little miffed that she could be happy at a time like this while I could not.

Crumpling the note up, I made to toss it, before noticing something on the back of it. Raising my eyebrow, I brought it up for closer inspection, just to wince as I made the connection between the red splotch and a wet spot.

“... Pinkie’s been crying while baking cherry pies again....” Sighing heavily, I threw the note into the garbage next to my brown desk. After that, I tugged at the enchanted golden armor that sat on my top half with a burst of magic. It was starting to get stuffy in my tent, and wearing this set of armor on top of royal-purple robes was only adding to my displeasure.

I went back to signing and reading legal documents after a break consisting of tea and saltine crackers. Wiping my mouth of crumbs with a napkin, I sighed and leaned back in my chair, idly playing with a bang of my mane.

“In the blink of an eye, all of Equestria was turned upside down. All it took was one event for this great land to fracture... to fall into disharmony. There’s been too many lives lost since The Fall, and this war is not helping!” I banged my hooves on the table with an exhale of distaste, and bared teeth. The entrance-flaps to my tent were on the receiving end of a potent death-stare.

“Curses,” I yelled, clenching my eyes shut. “Why does it always have to end up like this!?” My tent was silent, truly intent on letting me suffer alone. Frowning heavily - my mental state sinking further and further into annoyance - I turned my head and kicked up some magic, pulling a red tome off an antique bookshelf.

The book didn’t even get close before the dust in and on it was brushed off with a sweep of telekinetic force, the cloud blowing out of my tent and allowing me a brief glimpse of the sunny outside.

I thought I saw the beginnings of a brown stetson headed my way in a hurry, but I dismissed it after about three seconds of waiting. Opening the tome after placing it on my desk amidst the papers, my eyes devoured every paragraph until I settled on a section on the left page.

“... Sunset Shimmer and Trixie Lulamoon. The former heads the Equestrian Revolutionaries, while the latter leads The Lancers of Lulamoon and Luna; both mares have bad blood with me, and both of them have remained in hiding for more than thirteen years after predicting the deaths of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna.” Keeping my frown pasted on, I continued to flip through the tome.

“... A bit for your thoughts, Twi’?” The familiar accent of my farmer friend, Applejack, rung out through my tent in worry. As I tore my eyes away from the tome, I looked up at her and offered a smile to hide my truly sour mood; an act that would go noticed by her, no doubt, but I did it out of chivalry.

Her battle-worn armor of very durable gold plating was chipped, scratched, and even sliced-in or burned in some areas. It was a testament to how long she spent in the grinder, fighting alongside who knows how many ponies. Her trademark stetson has been made battle-worn as well, with chunks or a hole dotting its features here or there. And naturally, as time does with all things, she looked every bit of thirteen years older than when we first met.

The emerald pools I see staring into my own eyes radiated every bit of that homey hospitality the Apple family was known for. In a way, she reminded me of a steadfast, hardy lighthouse on an island coast that’s being buffeted with roiling waves and crashing lightning... but yet, she always remained standing and true to herself; a beacon of overwhelming honesty, no matter what the predicament may be.

“I’m sorry, Applejack, but I was just mulling over the thing that always puts me in a sour mood.” At my explanation, the earth mare winced as if she was slapped, adjusting her stetson in awkwardness.

“Oh...” She said quickly, almost as if the word leaped from her mouth before she could think. “... You talkin’ ‘bout that whole fiasco with Princess Celestia and Luna?” Applejack spent her walk up to my desk admiring the boring canvas of my tent, a further sign that she was - indeed - feeling a little out of place.

Giving her a nod, I shifted in my seat a little, looking down at my friend. “Yes; or more specifically, how Sunset Shimmer and Trixie found out about their deaths before I did. The deaths by way of meteor impact prevention, no less. Something of that magnitude can’t go unnoticed by Celestia or Luna, not by a long shot. Someone’s pulling the strings.” I sighed and rubbed my forehead in frustration, mindful of horn that’s protruding out. “.... The big questions are... Who and Why?”

Applejack sat down on one of the cushions stationed in front of my desk with a heavy sigh. “I don’ rightly know mahself, Twi’, but this war ain’t nothin’ but bad memories an’ broken hearts.” Grimacing, as if tasting something horrid, Applejack turned her head slightly away with a hurt face. “... Ah never would’ve imagined good ol’ Equestria in such a manner, Twi’... it just ain’t right, y’know?”

“Applejack...” I grimaced myself. It was clear how badly this war was affecting her; every day must be agony, seeing a pony get carried in on a stretcher, sometimes parts of a pony. “The most we can do is fight while looking for answers. I know how you feel about Equestria being torn asunder like this; it’s such a devastating event to behold, let alone be a part of. I just wish Sunset Shimmer and Trixie would tell me what’s going on, or how they knew of Celestia’s and Luna’s demise before it happened.”

“Everything would be so much clearer...” I trailed off, watching as Applejack looked back up at me with a face of pure determination. I cracked a smile at that, loving how valorous she looked in such apparel while standing firm.

“There’ll be plenty more fights down tha’ road, Twi’... as Granny Smith said: “It’s best ta’ face that hoard a’ trouble early on, get it outta tha’ way, and move on up ta’ somethin’ better.”” Smiling brightly, Applejack trotted around the desk and surprised me by giving a hug. “... Positions of authority be damned, I want to hug ya’, Twi’.”

My face could not leave it’s in-shock stature; I was perplexed at the sudden passion, but I returned the hug as best I could, giving a sigh of content and happiness. “... Thanks, Applejack; it really means a lot.” The mare hugging me gave a final squeeze that made me wince, before chuckling and letting go.

Tipping her stetson at me, she proceeded to head on out of my tent. “... To be honest, Twi’?... we had it easy for too long.”

I blinked, pausing in shocked silence. "Excuse me?”

Applejack’s smirk could be felt, even though she didn’t turn around. And just with those words, she left the tent. Blinking a couple more times, I placed a hoof on my chin and idly stroked it in thought.

“... The questions come quicker than the answers... how annoying.” Frowning, I went back to my tome, content on reviewing the information inside and hopefully having some type of brain blast that would spell the end for this pointless war.

There was no doubt in my mind. This would be the confrontation to spell the end of ponykind itself if I didn’t play my cards right... all of Equestria rode on every decision I made. With control of the Sun and Moon completely gone, we actually had to chart out time schedules and whatnot. Every new day brought about more information... at the cost of another’s life.

Grumbling in frustration, I decided that a nice walk was needed to clear my head. Standing up and jumping off the seat, my strides were a bit hurried as I shuffled out of my tent. Row after row of tan tents dotted the horizon, only serving to make me grimace.

“So many good soldiers... so many caskets.” Shaking the grim thought out of my head, I casually meandered my way through the sea of gold armor. Many ponies bowed or saluted, a scarce amount actually greeting me with a “good evening” or a “salutations”. No matter how happy they tried to make themselves appear, I could feel the omnipresent tension and despair. It was draped over these tents - this F.O.B. - as a pungent and thick miasma that threatened to throttle the life out of everything in its path, or under its influence.

I sighed deeply, making a left and heading for the mess hall. It’s getting about that time for dinner... it’ll be needed to help me think about the motives of those two mares, Sunset and Trixie.