Darkened Shores

by Silver Flare

35: Broken

The night was late, the moon presiding over a breathtaking array of twinkling stars. Canterlot had settled into a deep hush, the first chill of true winter threading through the gentle air. Windows were shuttered and bolted against the cold. Almost every house was dark, hearth fires extinguished, the streets empty. Precious few souls were still awake to appreciate the timeless beauty of this crystal clear night.

Fire still flickered in one fireplace, the orange flame clinging tenaciously to a pair of soot-black logs. Shadows cavorted across the features of a solitary mare, the corners of her eyes drawn with worry. Her purple mane was streaked with light grey, and she toyed absently with the ends, eyes distant. Half a glass of wine sat on the end table nearby, completely forgotten.

A rising murmur of distant voices stirred the night, brought crystal-blue eyes back into sharp clarity. Her ears perked, and the mare rested a hoof unconsciously on her collarbone as though she might slow the racing of her heart by holding it in.

The voices grew clearer as they approached her front door. One shrill voice in particular stood out. “Do you think they've got scones? SS totally got me hooked on scones.”

“How the hay should we know?” A more hushed voice with a distinct accent. “We've been gone fer months.” By the time the mare had recognized the voices as belonging to Twilight's friends she was already at the front door, flinging it open wide, startling the wild-maned pegasus who still had her hoof raised to knock.

A crowd of ponies clustered on her front lawn. A scattering of familiar faces, a quartet of stern-looking night guards, even Princess Luna, looking both regal and travel-worn beneath the light of her moon. “Greetings, Twilight Velvet. Pardon our late intrusion.”

The ruler's words went unheeded as a purple unicorn pushed forward between two other ponies, and suddenly the mare had locked her forearms into a firm embrace. “Oh Twilight. . .” She breathed. “My Twilight Sparkle, oh thank the sun and the moon. . .”

“Hi Mom.” Twilight returned the hug.

For a few precious heartbeats the low mutterings of respectful voices failed to intrude upon the sense of elation and relief. “Your father and I were worried sick. . .”

“I'm sorry Mom. Things. . . It took longer to get back than we'd planned.”

Pinkie's voice dwindled as she let herself into the house. “Plus the mission was kinda top secret and stuff.”

“Pinkie Pie!” Rarity admonished. “Wait for an invitation! Where are your manners?”

“But I'm feeling snacky!” Pinkie dismissed her friend's chagrin. “Besides, we're practically family, right?”

“I qualify as family!” Spike said with a smile. “Do come in, Ms. Pie, we've been expecting you.”

“Thank you!” Pinkie bounced backwards out of the house, then immediately bounced back in, accompanied by the little dragon.

Twilight Velvet blinked her eyes open to find an inexplicable mix of pleasure and deep, deep sorrow in Princess Luna's eyes. “With thy consent, Twilight Velvet, we should like to attend thy house. There is much we would relate to thee ere the dawn.”

Twilight Velvet reluctantly disentangled herself from the embrace. “Of course, please come in. Oh goodness. . .” She dabbed at her eyes. “I'm sorry. We've just been so worried after the incident, we. . .” Her words tapered off as she got her first good look at her daughter. She looked different. There were marks across her face, light vertical lines that looked like scars. Her mane and tail were surrounded by a faint nimbus of magic, and her horn looked somehow brighter, more translucent.

“Go wake Dad.” Twilight urged gently. “We have so much to tell you.”

Even though they elided most of the details, there was still quite a bit to tell. “That sounds unbelievable.” Twilight Velvet hadn't taken her eyes off her daughter in what felt like hours. “The strange ship, the storm, the Yami thing. . . are you certain it's dead?” Her voice trembled with worry.

The friends traded brief glances. “As certain as we can be.” Fluttershy said. “We're safe, at least.”

A stallion reached an azure hoof over to rest atop Twilight Velevt's. “Let them finish their tale, dear.”

Pinkie Pie spoke animatedly. “So, anyway, we totally had to fly around the gryphon kingdom, 'cause they were still feeling a little ornery,” She said around a mouthful of scone. Rarity had long since given up on trying to convince Pinkie to chew, swallow, then talk. “And everyone thought it was a good idea to not fly over any towns or stuff 'cause the airship is supposed to be a big surprise or secret or something so eventually we landed in the Everfree in a nice clearing Sun Shade found and -poof- Snowflake just ran off without even a growl of a goodbye!”

Applejack nudged her in the ribs. “If y'all are gonna talk with yer' mouth full, at least try an' inhale every now and then.”

“So, there's a large white wolf roaming the Everfree Forest?” Night Light asked.

Luna sipped her tea, concealing her vexation. “Yes. We are conducting sweeps, yet we fear 'tis for naught. This creature will not be found, should she truly endeavor to conceal herself.”

“So anyway,” Pinkie had been hijacking the conversation at regular intervals now. “We left Sun Shade and Pin Feather and Clear Sky at the palace with Celestia, and they're making her comfortable, as comfortable as they can manage, I guess, and they're asking us all to spend the night and maybe a day at the castle even though I'm awful homesick for Ponyville and Sugar Cube Corner and the Cake's cakes which even Dash says she misses right Dash?”

She glanced hopefully at the pegasus hoping for a response. Dash, for her part, was still fast asleep on the couch, snoring loudly.

“All I care about,” Twilight Velvet's eyes glared daggers into the Princess's forehead. “Is you finding a cure for my daughter.”

“Mom. . .” Twilight began.

“Whatever it takes.” She growled.

Night Light tried to ease her back too. “Dear, please.”

Luna didn't even twitch. “We will do everything in our power Twilight Velvet, rest assured. Meantime, these are national secrets.” Luna said, setting her tea down. “Please understand, thy discretion is essential. Thou art Twilight's parents, and deserved a measure of truth in light of Twilight's. . . condition.”

“Of course we understand.” Night Light nodded somberly. “And we'd appreciate anything you can do.”

Luna nodded, then rose to her feet as well. “Now we must insist we adjourn to the Royal Palace. Tomorrow promises to be most trying, and we have much to do.”

Later that evening, Twilight Sparkle turned away from a broad window, drawing opulent curtains behind her closed with a thought. She rolled her eyes at Spike, who sat wide-awake atop a massive bed, kicking his feet idly. “Don't you think you should at least try to sleep?”

“Shouldn't you?” He countered with an arched eyebrow.

“I wish I could, Spike.” She said with a sigh. “Looks like we're both going to be exhausted tomorrow.”

“It just feels kinda weird, you know?” Spike picked at a toe claw. “I guess I got used to the hum of the engine. The. . . the feeling that we were constantly moving somewhere.”

“Yeah.” Twilight agreed softly, taking in the elegant but strangely silent suite. She sat right where she was, in the middle of the floor, at a loss for what to do next. She felt physically exhausted, but her mind raced in circles. The moon shone full upon her as it slowly set, and Twilight caught herself toying with her mane. The ends had begun to drift in aetheric currents all on their own. Luna had assured her it would only get worse. “Everypony's probably going back to Ponyville tomorrow.”

“And you wish you were going too.” Spike finished for her.

Twilight nodded sadly. “Don't you feel homesick, like Pinkie?”

“Sure I do. But we're going to stay, right? At least for a little while. Princess Luna said its important you stay here. Canterlot has the best medical teams in Equestria, and. . .”

“I understand, Spike.” Twilight interjected heavily. “And I'm hopeful. I really am.”

“But you don't think they can fix whatever's wrong with you, do you?”

Twilight shrugged. “I don't know.” She glanced out of the window again, hoping to change the subject. Beyond the balcony sprawled the statue gardens, still under repair. “I can't believe Discord was freed again, and we weren't here to contain him. Luna was right to worry.”

“I can't believe Discord imploded because of Lyra!” Spike exclaimed. Twilight smiled her agreement as Spike slid off the bed and to his feet. “The only pony who's as soft-spoken as Fluttershy! I mean, wow.”

“I can't wait to talk to her, find out how she'd doing. I haven't been keeping in touch very well from Ponyville.” Twilight's drawn features brightened considerably. The moonlight delineated the hollowness of her cheeks, emphasizing the weight she'd lost over the past few months. But the light also glinted in her eyes, making them sparkle with renewed pleasure. “I can't wait to catch up with everypony here in Canterlot. Lyra and Moondancer and Minuette and my parents. . .”

“Heheheh.” Spike rolled his eyes. “I wonder how much cheek-pinching they're gonna try on you now that you're. . .” He gestured, indicating all of her.

“What?” Twilight arched an eyebrow playfully. “Facially scarred?”

“I was going to say a National Hero, but that's old news by now, isn't it?”

“Hero.” Twilight snorted. It was not very lady-like. “As if it wasn't a group effort every single time.”

“Group effort is right! It's not like I'm going to downplay my own contributions.” Spike replied loftily. “A shiny medal would be awesome.” He began marching around the room, chest puffed out. He spoke in the stuffiest voice he could muster. “I'm terribly sorry sir, the wait for a table will be between five-and-a-half and six. . . My word, is that master Spike? Right this way, your lordliship. We have ruby-encrusted danishes and. . .”

Twilight scooped him up mid-stride, hugging him close for a moment. Then her ears perked straight up. “You know, there's something I'd like to do. Something I haven't done in awhile. So long as we're both awake. . .”

Spike wiggled out of her grip, his scaled feet padding across the floor as he ran. From a shelf he retrieved a length of parchment and a quill.

Twilight smiled. “I didn't know my number one assistant could read minds. You're like a scaled super-hero!”

Spike took a bow, flourishing the quill as he dipped his head. “I think the Princess would love to get a letter from you.”

Twilight nodded her agreement, then cleared her throat.

Dear Princess Celestia,

You've always taught me that friendship and harmony were the strongest forces in our world. But that isn't always true, is it? There's Darkness out there, waiting for its chance, searching for a way in. And there's Darkness inside our own hearts, searching for a way out. If harmony isn't strong enough, then we need to be stronger. If I've learned anything on this trip, it's just how fragile our world is, how fragile we all are. I'm not sure how you stayed so strong all those years. But you're a beacon to me, shining bright, and that's why I've always looked up to you.

Equestria has changed since we left, hasn't it? The peace treaty with the changelings comes as a welcome surprise. I'm looking forward to all the intellectual discoveries we must be opening ourselves up to by negotiating with a brand new race of sentient beings. But the prospect of tension between Equestria and the Gryphon tribes is alarming. Here's hoping we can patch that political relationship up, right? Harmony can be exhausting, but its always worth fighting for.

Speaking of which, I think I may have done something to the Elements of Harmony. There was a moment where. . . where I had to pull the Darkness into myself, into the Elements, and to be honest I haven't had the courage to touch them again. I'm afraid of what I might discover. Is it even possible to change the nature of Harmony, the magical fabric of our world? I'm hoping that the academics here in Canterlot can help, but my guess is that nopony has the answers. I'm not sure what I could have done differently, and I know everypony says I saved their lives. But I'm still scared of the things I've done.

I'm not certain I can do what you do, being strong and staying in the light day after day. But I'm going to try. With your help, and with my wonderful friends, I'm going to try really hard. I'm just not sure how much I trust myself. I know you'd just say that you trust me. I can already hear your voice speaking those very words. So thank you, in advance.

Your faithful student,

Twilight Sparkle

Spike gave the ink a minute to dry, then he rolled the parchment up and held it between them. “Shall I do the honors?”

“Hmmm. . .” Twilight pondered. “Dawn isn't that far away. I'd like to deliver it myself.” She gave him a soft smile. “So long as you're actively flouting your bedtime, how would you feel about taking a little walk?”

Spike smiled in return.

The palace wasn't entirely silent. Bleary-eyes ponies could be seen dusting, tending to fireplaces, moving supplies in preparation for the coming day. The letter hovered above Twilight's horn, buoyed by her magical field. A low grumble reached her ears, and Spike clutched at his belly. “Can we stop by the kitchen first? I'm starving.”

“Sure.” Twilight smiled. The whelpling toddled ahead of her, certainty in his steps. Maybe it was the late hour. Maybe it was the vast relief of finally being home, or close to home, anyway. But the simple happiness she felt at having him by her side, alive and unharmed, swelled in her chest. Her eyes crinkled with a deep joy, and tears welled in the corners. “That sounds good to me, Spike.” He brought back so many good memories.

“We can just grab something quick from the fridges. I'm eager to check on the Princess too.” A soft, hollow sound echoed off the walls of the corridor, the sound of a roll of parchment hitting the marble floor. Twilight's hoof-steps stopped in the same instant, and the look of anticipation on Spike's face wilted.

It only took him a moment to master himself. “Twilight. . . again?” He sighed, turning around only when his face bore a brave smile. “You've got to stop doing this to yourself.” He said, without any expectation that he would be heard. Twilight's pupils had shrunk to pinpricks, and her eyes gazed off into the distance. The muscles of her face hung slack, empty. Her mind had vanished, slipping into a deep fissure of memory. Sometimes she'd be gone only moments. Sometimes. . .

Spike wedged himself behind her foreleg, and with a careful foot he pushed her knee forward, leaning into the top of her elbow at the same time. Once her weight shifted forward her legs began to move, an autonomic, unhurried walk that would continue until he stopped leaning into her. Spike already knew the stairs would be a problem, but he felt confident he could find someone to help. The palace was full of kind souls.

He was fortunate. Less than an hour later Twilight's eyes began to blink rapidly, and they drew back into focus. Her breathing hitched, and she shook her head gently. She became aware of cold, fresh air in her lungs, and the call of distant birds.

Spike had been dozing atop her back, but he awoke instantly, a sympathetic smile warming his features. “Welcome back, Space Cadet Sparkle.”

Twilight sighed. “Ugh, I'm sorry, Spike. . .”

“Oh, stick a spoon in it.” He said amicably, sliding off her back. “You don't have to go all mushy on me every time you turn into a vegetable.” He gestured with an outstretched claw, offering the letter to her.

They stood in the courtyard, just inside the front gates of the Royal Palace. The ornate fountain that, just the other day, had provided a serene resting area to every traveler and visitor passing through had been torn down, and the ghostly light of pre-dawn gave form and substance to a regal statue. A gentle alicorn who, even in death, appeared to be curled protectively around someone who was no longer in her embrace.

The gates surrounding the courtyard had been closed to the public for the night, but they wouldn't stay that way for long. Soon enough, the quiet space would be filled with ponies. There would be hushed murmurs, thick grief, respect, and threaded through it all a very real fear. Twilight could see it all playing out in front of her. Ponies would travel from every corner of Equestria, and they would all have the same burning question rising from their hearts. What happens now?

Twilight knew she couldn't abandon Princess Luna. Not now. Leaving the Princess alone with the combined weight of her sorrow, the burden of holding the country together, and dealing with the inevitable tide of well-meaning pilgrims? Ponyville would have to wait a while longer, even if her memories didn't swallow her whole every now and then. As the sun peeked over the distant horizon, Twilight took her letter and wedged it in the hollow beneath Celestia's upraised ankle.

Something shifted in Twilight's vision, the stone moving slightly, subtly. Twilight gasped in shock. But then she stood back, the hope instantly fading from her eyes. The statue only seemed to move thanks to the slowly shifting shadows, a trick of the sun's rising. She silently berated herself. It was just so hard to believe that Celestia would never move again.

The future stretched ahead of her, and for the first time it was a dark, hazy place. “Spike.” The dawn left her feeling strangely vulnerable. “I'm afraid.”

Spike threw his arms around Twilight's leg without a moment's hesitation. “I'm not.”

Comments

[ANearPerfectStudent]

Oh god... I need to reread this story... I'm so confused

[whoofian]

What a great ending to a great story. Wonderful, simply wonderful.

[Lelouch Vi Britania]

Kinda confused as to what happened to twi, but other than that, great chapter.