Mare in the Mirror

by adcoon

14. The Greatest Gifts

A lonely tear fell on the little mirror, a sparkling pearl in the light of the moon. Celestia closed her eyes and let it be. Her sister would prevail, wherever she was now, and so would she. Equestria would stay strong through the winter, and a day would come when the fires of friendship would thaw the heart of ice, a day when the golden rays of dawn would once more warm the fields of Equestria and bring renewed life to all its ponies and critters. She had to believe that this was so.

As she lay on the bed she felt a cold breath against the back of her neck that made her shiver. Celestia opened her steely eyes as a shadow brushed along her side, a frigid caress like that of winter itself, and a voice whispered in her ears. “I wish you had been there when she died, to see the look in her eyes in that last second of her life. It was a moment of such transcendent beauty I can not hope to do it justice with mere words.”

Celestia tensed. She knew deep in her heart that her sister was not dead. She knew it was all lies meant to break her. She refused to believe it, refused to react to these cruel words.

A hoof gently stroked her mane and exposed the neck. “It was so very quick.” The hoof rested on her cheek as the voice spoke with deep sensual fulfillment. “One brief, exalted moment in time, flash frozen in the broken shards of a mirror. The look in her eyes as the end dawned on her, staring silently for all eternity as the light of life went out.”

Celestia's eyes burned with a deep fire, forced to listen, forced to endure silently.

“Have you ever seen a pony's soul caught in a mirror as it shatters? It is a singular experience, without compare. No end could better match your sister's exquisite beauty, that flawless fatal beauty,“ the voice sighed deeply. ”Oh, but I know these words can hardly compare.”

Celestia closed her eyes. She didn't want to cry or give her torturer the sense of satisfaction she wanted of her. The voice went quiet, a long, anticipating silence, yet the hoof kept affectionately caressing her face and neck. Celestia hated that loving caress, hated that perverted affection. She could take all the words in the world, but not this. “Do not touch me,” she demanded in a restrained voice. The hoof slid down her neck towards her chest, a slow, tender stroke. “I told you t—” Celestia opened her eyes, and her heart instantly stopped. Her breath and a half-spoken word remained frozen upon her lips.

A large fragment of a mirror floated gently in front of her eyes, surrounded by a cold aura of white light. Its surface was cracked into many small facets, and from within each of these peered a pair of eyes, a frozen image repeated in each splintered face of the mirror. Luna's lifeless eyes were wide with sudden pain, sudden fear. Tiny drops of blood trickled from a thousand cuts, as if from a shower of broken glass, the crimson flow of life frozen like everything else in that fatal vision.

It had to be a twisted, gruesome lie. Celestia couldn't bear to look at it.

“Absolutely ravishing, is it not? I took a few souvenirs before I left. I thought you might want one too.” The voice spoke sweetly behind her. “I know it can not possibly compare to seeing it happen, but it is the best I could do, and I do hope you like it. I have arranged for the fragments to be placed in the grand hall of the castle, assembled for all of Equestria to see.”

Celestia's face set in pain and anger. She wanted to explode, to lash out with great fury. She wanted to cry. Her body trembled with all the force of her will to hold it back as she threw the shard away and got up, turning to face her torturer, legs shaking and eyes burning. “Why are you doing this?”

Trixie smiled up at her from where she lay on the bed. “For pleasure, for joy … why, for you, dear Celestia. Don't you see?” Trixie vanished in a swirl of smoke which snaked itself across the bed and around Celestia's legs and body.

Celestia tried to shake it off, but the smoke licked closely against her skin, and Trixie's voice whispered in her ear. “I may have lied. Nothing in this world or beyond could compare to your beauty.” The smoke coalesced behind her, and Trixie breathed in slowly. “It would not be fair of me to expect that you would remember, but many, many years ago a young and unremarkable pony named Midnight was granted a rare chance to watch as you raised the sun during the annual summer sun celebration. Needless to say, she found herself in awe at what she saw.”

Celestia backed away a little. She remembered the young and troubled Manna who later took the name Midnight and caused such a stir that she was locked up for her own protection in Hoofswell. The exact circumstances of that incident had always been a mystery, as with Manna herself. But until Twilight's demise she recalled only little about the older Midnight, the one apparently behind it all. She had studied at Celestia's school of magic, done well but not remarkably, then went on to live comfortably as a business mare in the newly founded village of Dappleshore. Had such evil lurked deep in her heart all that time, unnoticed? Or had something changed her, perverted her?

Few answers seemed forthcoming. Trixie smiled enigmatically and leaned in close to whisper something, so close. “It’s my birthday today,” she whispered, and then she turned, walking out with a smirk on her face.

Celestia watched the door for a long time, then her eyes drifted and settled on the broken piece of mirror on the floor. Her eyes softened as she picked it up carefully and lay it face down in the light of the moon filtering through the window. “I believe in you, sister.”

* * *

All strength had long since left her body, leaving her hanging there like a hopeless sack of oats, unable to even lift her head as the heavy door creaked upon its hinges and armored hooves entered the room. She had tried to get free but it had been hopeless. The merciless chains kept her stuck down here in the lonely darkness.

She was going to die here, a failure to all her friends, a failure to the princess, a big bloody failure of a pony. If she had had any tears she would have cried, but her eyes were as dry as her mouth after days of starving and burning thirst. She couldn't count the days, had no idea if it was night or day. Maybe this would be the end.

The hooves came closer and stopped in front of her. Something was pressed unceremoniously against her lips, not forcefully but with a gentle insistence. “Drink up,” a voice spoke to her. It was calm, yet something in it betrayed a sense of urgency. “Quickly, while you can.”

Her lips parted, and she drank slowly of the offered liquid. It was cool and tasted sweet. She almost choked on the memories of the times spent in Sugarcube Corner, with Pinkie and all her friends.

“Careful now. You will need every drop, soldier,” the voice encouraged, but she was too lost in the act of drinking to listen. As she licked off the last drops on her lips the cup was removed.

“Good. Listen carefully.” The urgency in the voice became stronger, yet each word was spoken slowly, forcefully as if to make sure none were missed. “Your young friend is alive and unharmed! The enemy keeps her close. You did not hear this, you think she's dead, do you understand? You did not get anything to drink either. If asked about me you will say that I beat you. I count on your loyalty to the Princess, so don't fail me, soldier. Stay strong for Equestria.”

She groaned, and the world around her seemed like a great haze. She could hear the hooves turn and march towards the door as the words began to settle. She fought against her own body to lift her head a bit, just enough for a glance.

Through her blurred vision she could see the outline of an azure mare in a dark gray armor, reaching out for the door. She knew that mare. She even had an old picture of her back in her cloud home. “You're …” her voice was weak and dry despite the drink. The mare hesitated by the door and turned her head. “You're … Blue Jet, you … were with the Wonderbolts. Why did you … quit?”

The other pony gave a sad smile. “Hang in there, Rainbow Dash. Equestria needs her loyal soldiers.” She reached out and knocked once on the door. It creaked as it opened, and Rainbow Dash watched her disappear into the hallway beyond. As the door closed the solitude returned.

* * *

Fluttershy sneezed at the dust and rubbed her eyes as she lifted her head to look around. “Pinkie?” Her tiny voice soon drowned in the silence. “L-Luna?” She tried and sat up, looking up at the starless sky above.

Last she remembered she had been with her friends. Luna had tried to stop Trixie and there had been a great shattering sound. Something had gone terribly wrong. Fluttershy concentrated, but no further memories dawned. She looked around but couldn't see any of her friends. They hadn't left her, had they? They would never do that. Pinkie would never do that.

“Pinkie?” She called again in a pitiful voice as she struggled to stand and spread her wings, flying low along the road before her. “W-where are you, Pinkie?”

The road continued for a while before winding its way inside a deep forest. Fluttershy paused and landed at the edge of the woods, feeling a shiver run along her spine. The trees loomed darkly before her and seemed to close in around her even as she looked down the narrow path. She backed away but stopped herself. No, she was not afraid anymore. She would be brave, for Pinkie and for her friends. She took a deep breath and beat her wings. The darkness swept around her tightly as she entered the forest.

She wasn't sure how long she had been flying among the tall, dark trees. She felt alone and miserable, maybe she had gone wrong? Maybe she would never find her friends. She landed in a small clearing to take a short break. She was tired, so very tired, but she had to find her friends no matter how long it took her. “Pinkie?” she tried again, calling softly. Her voice faded away into silence, then the silence of the forest was broken by a curious and sad melody.

Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!

Fluttershy sniffled and rubbed her nose as she looked up at the little bird singing in a tree above her. “Oh …” She felt a small spark of joy upon seeing the little fellow singing above. It was the first living thing she had seen since waking up. “Oh, mister nightingale, I'm so, so sorry to interrupt your beautiful song, but if you don't mind—” She sniffed sadly. “Could you tell me if you have seen my friends? I really, really need to find them, and I think I'm lost.”

The bird of the night chirruped and turned its head to look at her. “I will tell you where you can find your friends,” the bird said, and Fluttershy lit up. “But there is something I want in return.”

Fluttershy looked desperately at the bird as it ruffled its feathers and settled down with its feet tucked in under itself. “My dearest wife passed away in a cold winter's storm, and I can no longer hear her sweet voice. Please sing for me, all the songs you've sung under the night sky. I do so enjoy them.”

Fluttershy folded her hooves pleadingly. “Oh mister nightingale, I am so very, very sorry. I can not wait too long, for my friends might need me, but if I have to then I'll sing you all my songs.”

The bird sat on its branch waiting, and though she longed to see her friends, Fluttershy began singing all her songs to the night under the branches of the tree. And the bird listened in silence until the very last song when her voice had all but left her.

“Thank you for the gift of your beautiful songs,” the bird chirped and fluttered up into the branches of the tree where it disappeared.

“Oh please don't leave me, little bird. You promised to help me!” Fluttershy cried with a feeble voice. There was a little rustling of leaves, then the bird returned carrying something in its beak. It sat back down on the branch and dropped the shiny piece of glass in front of Fluttershy.

“Take this with you, and it will light your path to your friends,” the bird said.

Fluttershy picked up the little piece of glass and thanked the bird as she continued her journey through the dark woods. It wasn't long before her eyes caught sight of a tiny flicker of light among the trees ahead. With renewed hope she followed the light until the dense forest turned to thorny bushes. She slowed down and carefully wove her way among the branches.

The thorns grew closer, and then suddenly the forest changed from dead branches to a wild hedge of brilliantly red flowers in bloom. And lying in a small glade among the thorns and roses she spotted a lonely figure.

* * *

Rainbow Dash lifted her head slightly to look as the door creaked. It felt like ages since Blue Jet had been by, and her stomach felt like a gaping hole. She dared to hope for another drink as an azure hoof appeared in the door.

It was a short-lived hope as the hoof clearly did not belong to the commander. Dash felt her heart beat faster in fear as Trixie entered the small room and gave her a brief freezing look. The self-styled queen turned to the two guards standing by outside the door behind her. “And you are certain she's had nothing?”

Both guards bowed deeply, clearly fearful of arousing their queen's ire. “Not on our watch, my queen! We are ever loyal to you and do only as you have commanded, Your Highness.”

Trixie looked long and hard at the two ponies sweating before her. Finally she turned and shut the door in their faces. “So …” she said as she walked casually up to peek out the tiny barred window of the cell, the only view into the outside world, placed just so that Dash couldn't see anything but the empty sky through it.

“My guards seem to think you're a pretty tough pony. So many days without food and water, and yet you don't seem too worse for the wear. They are mighty impressed. Me, I am very disappointed. I have been very kind, promising not to kill you as I did, and I had hoped you would see reason after a few days like this, but it appears that you are determined to resist.”

Dash remained silent. It was as much in defiance as for the simple fact that she could barely get a word over her dry lips. Trixie turned to her. “The crows are picking at your little friend as we speak. Such a pity, but a deal is a deal.” She studied Rainbow Dash closely. “I was thinking of having her dumped in some unnamed hole somewhere, but I might be persuaded to give her a decent burial. I'll even let you attend. You know what I want to hear. It's not very difficult.”

Silence. Rainbow Dash looked down, tried to hide her face. She didn't want Trixie to look at her, but Trixie walked closer and Dash felt her head lifted back up. “I don't know how you can live with yourself,” Trixie said coldly. “Knowing how she died for your pathetic hide. Perhaps you think you can atone, that you can make her sacrifice have meaning one day. How very noble … or perhaps you've had visitors. Is that it?”

Dash scowled and shook her head. Trixie's horn glowed and Dash screamed as a sharp pain shot through her wing. A long blue feather dangled in the air before her, a drop of blood on the tip where it had been attached. “That was for your little friend. One friend's life on your name. How many will you endure? How about we start with your family …”

Dash felt a slight tug on another feather. “Thunderbolt Lane 20, Cloudsdale, who lives there? Do you think I should pay them a visit? Or will you tell me who has been helping you?”

Tears ran down her cheeks as images of Cloudsdale and her family flashed through her mind. Trixie smirked darkly. “I hear they mean a lot to you, perhaps more than anypony. Don't they deserve a little of your famed loyalty?”

Dash opened her mouth, hesitantly, more out of reflex than a deliberate wish to give in. Thankfully a sudden knock on the door gave her time.

Trixie turned with an annoyed hiss. “What?!”

The door opened and a blue mare in gray armor bowed deeply. “I am so very sorry to disturb you, my Queen, but your …” Blue Jet paused, but a cold glance from Trixie got her to swiftly continue. “The … pony in your private quarters has escaped, Your Highness.”

Trixie stalked up to the commander and pulled her up so their faces were level. “And perhaps you would like to tell me how that happened, commander? How did she get out from under your watch?”

“M-my guards must have failed in their … duty.” Blue Jet gasped for breath. “I will ensure they are … properly reprimanded, your … grace!”

Trixie stared long and hard at the commander dangling in front of her. “I believe any failure of the royal guard are on your head, commander. Or do you disagree with me?” Blue Jet lowered her eyes. “Good. I shall see to your punishment myself, later. As for you—” She turned back to Dash. As she did, Rainbow Dash caught a brief wink from Blue Jet. “I suggest you think on where your loyalties lie, and what is best for those you hold dear. I am done playing nice with you.” With that she turned and left, dragging the commander behind her.

Dash watched the door close. She hoped the commander didn't get in too much trouble for her sake. Trixie would be back, and then what would it all have been good for? She lowered her head and thought back on how she once before had betrayed her friends for Cloudsdale, and for her family. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Her family would understand, even if she broke they wouldn't be safe. If only she could warn them, tell them to flee the city …

A fluttering of wings by the window caught her attention and broke her out of her thoughts. Dash looked up weakly, then blinked. Surely she had to be dreaming, or perhaps she had finally gone mad.

* * *

Pinkie jumped up and down stubbornly, stretching her neck all it could be stretched to see, but no more did it help. The hedge of thorns was as tall as it was dense, or more so. All around her it circled with no way through. “Now I wish I had wings,” she said as she dropped down sadly.

She looked up at the dark sky. She had to find Fluttershy and her friends, but how could she when she was stuck here? Maybe if she called out, Fluttershy would hear her and come find her. Fluttershy had wings. Beautiful, soft wings.

Pinkie stood up and took a deep breath, all the air she could contain, and began yelling at the top of her lungs. It was a terrible racket, the very best she could muster, and that was quite a bit. Surely if Fluttershy was near the pegasus could not fail to hear. Or maybe Luna. Anypony? Her throat hurt and her voice grew hoarse as she yelled and yelled.

Finally, when she could yell no more she sank down and cried. “Somepony help me. Anypony? Fluttershy? Luna? Twilight?” Maybe they couldn't hear her because they were stuck too. Maybe they were in danger. Or really sad and lonely somewhere far away where Pinkie couldn't hug them and make them feel better? Pinkie looked up. She couldn't leave her friends in need.

She stood up and trotted up next to the thorny hedge with a scowl. “You're not going to keep me from my friends, you … you …” She made a face and clenched her teeth. “No thorns will keep me from my Fluttershy! I'll … I'll laugh! Hah! Hah! You'll see!” Pinkie taunted the bushes as she tried to work herself up. If it was the only way, then … Pinkie took a step back, then threw herself at the thorns, tearing, pushing, biting and struggling.

And the thorns tore back, biting and scratching without mercy. Blood poured from her wounds, and her mane and tail got hopelessly tangled in the thorny vines, yet the hedge did not yield.

Pinkie tried to drown the pain and futility with laughter, but it was no help. Her laughs turned to frantic tears, and she cried hard as she hung helplessly among the thorns. As drops of her blood ran down the vines and fed the ground, a rustling went through the hedge and tiny buds sprung forth from the once lifeless branches.

The rustling in the thorns became as a voice, old and full of sorrow. “Winter has been long and hard, our roots and branches are frozen and will not yield, but give us the warmth and life of your heart and we will show you the way to your friends,” the thorny hedge promised.

“For Fluttershy and my friends, I'll hug you 'till I drop!” Pinkie whimpered. She moved as best she could and pressed herself against the thorns, hugging the lifeless branches with all her might. The sharp thorns sank deep into her chest, and thick red streams of blood flowed from her veins down the vines, soaking the ground below her.

Pinkie kept hugging until she could no more, and all around her tiny buds sprung forth and bloomed into brilliant red roses from the warmth of her heart. With a low rustling the thorns parted and carried the blood-soaked pony through the wall of thorns. As they lay her back down, a little thorn of glass was left glistening just above her heart.

* * *

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. With neither voice nor tears left she simply opted for staring in silent disbelief at the brightly colored parrot flapping its wings outside the small window, a snow-white bunny with a key in its mouth swinging in the bird's claws. It was surreal, like a rescue mission taken right out of some crazy fan-written Daring Do tale.

The bunny swung elegantly through the bars and landed with a thud on the cold stone floor while the parrot settled down on the edge outside the window. Dash followed the bunny as it ran across the floor and fumbled to get the key in the lock of one of the chains attached to her hind legs.

“Angel?” Dash managed to force her dry throat to comply. Could it really be? If Angel was here, perhaps Fluttershy was not far off too. “Did Fluttershy send you?” She looked up at the window hopefully.

Angel scowled up at her and lifted a paw to his lips as a gesture to stay silent. With nimble paws he turned the key. A low click sounded from the lock and the chain rattled slightly as it fell off her hoof. Dash pulled her leg up, delighted to be able to bend and move it again.

Angel moved on to the next chain with a great single-mindedness. It was not long before it too was free and Dash now dangled freely in her front hooves. She struggled not to laugh as Angel jumped and climbed up her body, tickling her something fierce along the way.

The bunny gave her another scowl and pointed at her frayed wings, tapping his foot impatiently. Dash's tired mind took a moment to understand. With feeble beats she moved her wings, trying to keep aloft. With another click and a terrible suddenness Dash was left dangling in one hoof, held up only barely by the weak fluttering of her wings.

Her shoulder gave a little crack, and she let out a brief cry. For a second she feared somepony would have heard, but after a few seconds of breathless waiting the cell remained silent and the door shut. Angel wiped his brow with quiet relief and moved on.

A final click and with a gasp she landed heavily on the floor, entire body aching and shivering with weakness. Angel jumped up on her back and tapped away impatiently as she tried to regain some strength. Blood and feeling slowly returned to her limbs, but she worried that she wouldn't be able to make it far.

She would have to. It was doubtful she would ever get a second chance. It was now or never. With a series of long, deep breaths she stood up. She would escape, or die trying!

The parrot, which had been waiting silently in the window, gave a low whistle and a squawk as it set off in a flutter. “Squaaaawk! Fire in the hole!”

Dash tried to prepare for whatever was about to happen. She could only imagine what crazy scheme these animals had cooked up. As a great crash shook the walls she threw herself on the floor with her hooves above her head. The bars and wall shattered as a green-shelled ball crashed through the window and hit the opposite wall in a cloud of dust and rocks that rained down upon Dash.

“Haul wind, mateys! This ship's asailin'!” The parrot squawked loudly outside.

Dash had no time to think! Mustering all her remaining strength she grabbed the green-shelled ball and set off through the window as the door slammed open behind her and two guards came galloping in. One tried to grab her tail, but lost his grip as he found himself assaulted by a screeching parrot, fluttering and clawing wildly at his face.

“Keelhaul the bloody bastards! Squaaaawk!”

Dash didn't look back as she beat her wings the best she knew, with Tank tucked against her chest and Angel clinging to her mane. Behind her she could hear shouts and struggles, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was freedom, or death. Every muscle in her body screamed, her heart was beating hard in her throat, and with despair she felt her wings freeze in cramps and the ground rush up towards her. This was going to get bad before it got better.

* * *

“Have you seen our friends? We would be ever so thankful if you could help us.”

A sap-green pony lay shivering on the ground, wrapped in a blanket to ward off the cold to little avail, her entire body shaking. She showed no sign of having heard the question. Rarity watched the sad pony with a heavy heart. All around it was the same sight; poor ponies freezing and sick on the barren ground. For miles and miles around her it seemed to be the same.

“Anypony?” she begged, yet it seemed a cruel mockery to ask these starved-out souls for help.

“Who are all these ponies?” Spike asked as he trudged along beside Rarity.

“I-I don't know, Spike.” She looked out over the shivering and crying forms. Whole families, young foals and once sturdy stallions alike. Sick, freezing, starved and lost every single one, except … Rarity's head perked up as she caught view of a lonesome figure standing among the lost crowds. A crooked, old silhouette like a gnarled root, black like the night around it.

Spike followed anxiously behind as she approached. “Excuse me?” She looked at the ancient stallion standing over the quivering form of a young pony who was cradling a sickly foal in her hooves while tears streamed down her cheeks. “Sir?”

The crooked old pony looked up at her with heavy eyes, a face marked by long years and deep sadness. He didn't look sick or cold like the rest, despite his great age. He watched her silently as if waiting for her to continue on her own.

Rarity felt a desperate urge to shake him and ask what in Celestia's name was going on, to break down and cry it out, but she restrained herself. “What is going on here? Who are all these ponies, and what are they doing here?”

“They are the souls of the dying and the brave, those who would rather die free than live in servitude. Winter has been hard this season, and many will not make it through the cold,” he answered in a slow, matter-of-fact tone as he looked back down at the young mother with her foal.

Rarity felt her heart sink further, if such a thing was possible. “What of you? Why are you standing here? What of this … poor little thing?”

“I am waiting for them all in turn. This mother has no fire nor milk, and her foal is young and sick from the cold. They have no pony to help them and nowhere to go. When dawn comes I must carry him away.”

“But …” Rarity looked at the mother. “He's so young, he never even had a chance. Is there nothing that can be done for them?”

The ancient pony shook his weary head slowly. “The young and the old are often first to go when winter comes unexpectedly. It is the way of things. One lives, another dies. It is not my place to interfere, even had I the power.”

Rarity hung her head. Spike lay a claw on her shoulder and opened his mouth, but no words came to him. He looked down and stroked her lightly, trying to comfort. No words would do.

“There has to be something … anything that can be done for this poor foal.” Rarity half whispered at the pony standing solemnly beside the grieving mother, but he just looked down with heavy eyes. “Something I can do,” she said and looked at the mother. “They can't see us?” The stallion shook his head silently. Rarity looked down again. “I wish I could give the poor thing life. I wish I had life to …” she spoke in slow realization “… give.”

The ancient pony looked at her. “And whose life would you offer instead? And what of the rest?” He gestured at the plains around them, all the sick and starving ponies. “And those who have yet to be born. Are you wise enough to tell who should live and who should die?”

“I …” Rarity looked around. “Am I dead?”

The pony looked long at her with sad, passive eyes. Then he merely shook his head in answer.

Rarity looked at the dying foal. “Then … then I wish I had the power to give of my own years. They are mine, are they not?”

The black stallion looked out over the plains. “There are many, many ponies here.”

Rarity followed his gaze. “I-I only have to give a little. Only enough to last the winter. Once spring comes they will be fine, will they not?”

“Some. Many, perhaps,” the stallion answered. “If spring comes,” he added grimly after a pause.

“Then my mind is made up,” Rarity said as she reached out for the young foal.

Spike grabbed her hoof and looked at her with fear. “Rarity, a-are you sure?”

Rarity smiled sadly at the dragon and nodded as she gently took the foal in her hooves. The young colt cried a little, but the mother seemed oblivious to them, her head hanging as if asleep and her breathing slow. The old pony simply watched in ever passive silence as Rarity held the foal close against her, helping it to stand on its young legs.

The foal pressed against her for warmth and instinctively sought with its mouth along her body. Rarity closed her eyes and cried softly. For a while she feared she would have nothing to give, but slowly—as if by her wish alone—the milk began to flow. The foal drank greedily, and it was with a heavy heart she had to pull it away and return it to its mother where it quickly fell to rest.

Rarity looked at the pair, then out over the plains again. “Can you show me the youngest of those who will not make it through the winter, and those who must care for them?” she asked the old stallion who merely nodded in solemn confirmation and turned to walk. Rarity followed, with a sniffling Spike by her side.

The sick and the poor seemed to have no end, but Rarity's mind was determined. For every foal she nursed, for every young filly or colt she gave of her warmth, Rarity felt a little weaker, a little older as if more than merely warmth and nourishment was drawn from her. Even in the dark her coat turned a little more dull, her mane a little less vivid.

Spike cried as he followed, and at last Rarity could continue no longer. She sat down, drained and weathered like never before. How many she had given of her life she had no idea, even less how many would make it. But if she had given them a fighting chance, at least then she had done something good. Something right.

The old stallion who had been following all the way, looked upon her with the same sad and heavy eyes as always. “Not many would have given as you have, and few are more deserving of such a gift,” he spoke slowly. “Yet it will all be for nothing if winter lasts.”

He paused for a long while, a long silence that seemed to hang over the plains like a shroud. “For your generosity I repay you with this.” He pulled a small glass splint from his cape and pointed a hoof towards the distant sky, to where a lone star shone just above the horizon. “Your friends await you if you follow the light. Go swiftly, while your time remains.”

Spike took the splinter of glass and helped Rarity back on her legs. With one last look at the black stallion they set off towards the star in the distance. The stallion watched them until they were but small dots against the dark horizon, then he turned back to the fields of souls.

* * *

Scootaloo opened the door a crack and pushed her head through. A gentle light lit up the grand room beyond. It was without question the most majestic room the filly had seen so far in the grand castle, but she didn't have time to admire it. Her eyes searched the room and settled on the figure of Celestia on a large bed with her back to her and the door. Scootaloo glanced over her shoulder briefly, then slipped inside and closed the door behind her.

“P-Princess,” she whispered nervously. Celestia didn't respond. Scootaloo snuck around the large bed. The princess appeared to be sleeping, her eyes closed and her breathing calm. She looked pale and bore the signs of having cried, yet despite this she was still regal and majestic to gaze upon.

The experience of addressing the royal sister in her sleep made Scootaloo feel suddenly very little. “Princess, please … please wake up,” she whispered again and nudged her cheek.

Celestia opened her tired eyes. It took a few seconds for her to focus on the young pony in front of her. As she saw Scootaloo she lifted her head and looked around the room with concern. “Scootaloo? What are you doing here? What is wrong?”

“I-I'm scared,” Scootaloo whispered, her voice quivering. She stood for a moment, then jumped up on the soft bed and wrapped her hooves around the princess, crying into her mane.

Celestia folded a wing around the young pegasus and gave her a comforting nuzzle. “There's nothing wrong with being scared,” she whispered softly. “I am scared too right now. But you must not let the fear overcome you.” The princess moved to look at her very seriously. “She didn't hurt you, did she?”

Scootaloo shook her head a little. “N-no. I don't see her much, and she just acts like I'm not really there. Like I'm not important. W-why is she like this?”

“Something evil has taken away her heart and now fills the void.” Celestia sat up in the bed and pulled the young pegasus close. “How did you get out?”

“Blue Jet let me out and told me to run. She came by once before to cheer me up, but the rest of the time I've been all alone. I-I don't know how to be brave when I'm all alone. It's easier when you have friends around you.”

Celestia smiled weakly. “You are not alone, Scootaloo, and you have friends even when you can't always see them. And so does Trixie. We can only hope they can find her and help her to see.”

Scootaloo looked up at her and wiped her eyes. “I'm glad you're still here, princess.”

Celestia smiled sadly. “Thank you.”