When Flash and Twilight get engaged, Celestia is suspicious of his motives. But Flash is more surprised than she is to find that something is terribly wrong.
Although Flash Sentry is overjoyed to be engaged to Princess Twilight Sparkle, Celestia withholds her blessing until she can interview the couple. At the interview, Flash is even more surprised than Celestia to find that something is indeed terribly wrong. This revelation leaves him questioning whether he ever really knew either princess.
Chapters 1-10 edited by the inestimable Zaponator, who encouraged me to write in the first place.
Flash blinked rapidly, twitching his head back slightly. After what had seemed like an eternity, he was suddenly back in the cozy living room, which now seemed so much larger as it spun around him in a rush, echoing the blood in his ears. Twilight Velvet nodded eagerly, bouncing her purple and white bangs over her wide open eyes, managing only an “mmmhm” through her tightly pursed lips.
“A wonderful thing… a wonderful thing…” Night Light’s most recent words bounced around inside Flash Sentry’s head, mixing with the quiet jazz that always seemed to be playing on the phonograph in the corner. How many evenings did he spend sitting on that orange couch right there, talking across the coffee table with Night Light about nothings and everythings, sports and books and… philosophy and the meaning of life when they shared a few bottles of cider. Not until last week did he ever suspect that this red recliner could be a place of such abject terror. And joy.
Dear Celestia! He was just trying to keep from passing out! Or crying. Or peeing. That would be bad. Wait. Night was still talking. How long had he been talking? This was like trying to listen to a broken record while sitting in an empty steel drum at a rock concert. Just roaring and spinning and echoes and—
Night Light chuckled and looked over to his wife, who returned his smile and nodded, patting his knee with one hoof. She stood up, and stopped by the liquor cabinet before padding into the kitchen, pausing once to look back at her husband and wink. Flash was just now getting his breathing under control, but still had his eyebrows lifted as high as they would go.
That moment, that wink. It was something he wanted to memorize. It summed up decades of shared experiences, shared dreams, shared joy and pain. Years of past and future swirled all together, distilled into their essence, and pressed down into one tiny gesture, a symbol of what it meant to be together. A quarter of a second carried all the meaning of two lifetimes… No, more than that. Two more lives they had formed from nothing, and how many they had touched? At least Princess Cadance’s and now his own. That adds up to what, somewhere around three and a half lives?
The blue unicorn rose and shuffled around the coffee table, half-sitting awkwardly on the arm of the recliner in which Flash was most definitely not reclining. Night sighed, and Flash managed to turn his head and dully look up at the elder stallion who said, “You know, when my Twily was little, I desperately hoped that I would be scary enough to keep all the colts away from her. I didn’t think I would be able to accomplish that with all my telescopes and books!”
Flash’s eyes briefly chose to flee in different directions.
“Well, almost.” Night tilted his head and looked down at the sweating pegasus. “I know you’ve faced your share of monsters, I just didn’t think I’d be the toughest one.” Getting no response besides a pair of eyelids flapping over a vacant stare, he flexed his forelimb and made a face like a flabby astronomer would imagine a bodybuilder would make. Flash failed just as badly at making a smile.
Twilight Velvet froze, a tray with three steaming mugs of tea floating just above the coffee table in a cloud of cerulean magic. Her gaze shifted between the two stallions for a few moments before she crossed her eyes, slowly tilted her head ninety degrees, and stuck out her tongue. Both stallions haltingly turned to regard the mare with confusion. She blinked back in mock confusion. “What? I thought we were making silly faces?”
Night’s line of vision shifted down to his still-flexed foreleg and the distinct lack of a bulging bicep thereupon. Clearing his throat, he shifted over to the crimson ottoman and sat down while Velvet did a very good job of suppressing her chuckles. Night quickly picked up two mugs in his magic and floated one toward a suddenly-animated Flash, who eagerly grabbed the cup and gulped it without taking a single breath.
Velvet had added enough brandy to cool the boiling tea to a drinkable temperature. That seemed about right. Coughing from the strong brew, Flash looked over at Night, who was blinking his eyes rapidly to ward off the stinging vapor rising from his own mug. Raising his head to meet Flash’s gaze, Night glanced down at his drink and back again, then levitated his untouched drink over to trade for the now-empty mug. Flash took a long sip, watching as Night and Velvet exchanged significant looks. Finally, she hid a grin behind her cup, directing an almost imperceptible shake of her head toward her husband.
Licking his dry lips, Night rolled the empty mug around in his hooves while he watched the young suitor calm his nerves. Just as Flash was starting to worry about the other stallion’s hungry glances, Velvet spoke up.
“Hun, why don’t you tell us about what happened when you asked my papa?” Her poker face hid a grin that must have been somewhere between sly and evil. “That’s a pretty good story.”
Clearing his throat and shifting a bit until he was sitting more confidently in the older stallion’s recliner, Flash trained his blue eyes on the only pony in Canterlot who was now more uncomfortable than he was. Despite the high rank he left behind in the Crystal Guard, and his not-quite-as-high rank in the Canterlot Guard, he had always felt outranked by the harmless and occasionally silly civilian. Maybe it was the ascot. Twilight Sparkle’s father certainly knew how to pull off some class. Not for long, of course, before he’d throw all the class right out the window, and drop a figurative piano on top of it. Flash raised an eyebrow and grinned. He’d just figured out who probably taught Twilight how to dance.
Still imagining what a disaster the dancing lessons must have been, Flash watched Night Light drag his lingering gaze away from the liquor cabinet before turning his head back to his audience. With a thousand-yard stare and a resigned whimper, he began. “There were... blades everywhere.”
Squinting and scrunching his nose, Flash opened and closed his mouth silently twice, before he managed to spit out his question. “I only met Velvet Sash once, and I didn’t think he was that scary? I mean, didn’t he make fancy dresses for a living?”
“Yes. There were blades… EVERYWHERE!”
“Scissors, honey. They were all scissors.”
“Giant, serrated scissors! Some of them had teeth!”
“They’re called pinking shears, sweetie.”
Flash leaned back and smiled, watching the back-and-forth that really couldn’t be called bickering, but wasn’t properly a story either. How many times had they told this tale over a drink with friends? Every brother and sister, friend and co-worker who... More of a dance. Yes, this family danced with words. Flash grinned, remembering a surprise visit to the library during which he peeked in the window to see Princess Twilight Sparkle, literally dancing with books. Spike was getting pretty good on that upright bass of his, probably all that practice with Sweetie Belle. That and his fingers. Twilight had been helping them practice… Hmmm, this brandy was certainly making his mind wander. Not that it needed much help wandering back to her.
“‘... just seems a little rushed is all. Are you sure there’s not a SPECIAL LITTLE REASON you two want to get married so soon?’ he bellowed, floating a ring of serrated blades around my head! I swear, he dimmed the lights and summoned some sort of otherworldly fire JUST to make his eyes pop out even more…”
It didn’t need any help from her meddling older brother either. When you worked for a princess whose special talent was romance, you’d best keep your crushes a secret. Not that he’d mentioned anything, but in an empire centered around a symbol of love, well, who-liked-who tended to get around.
A peach stallion gave him a goofy grin from the bottom of a mug that smelled of bergamot and… marigold petals? It was hard to smell much around the brandy. Flash said goodbye to the handsome devil and drained his mug. While it was still raised to his lips, he saw Velvet curled up on the couch, covering her muzzle with two hooves while giggling furiously at her wild-eyed husband pantomiming something like a swordfight.
Night Light had flopped onto his back, levitating a pair of fireplace pokers over his neck like a nightmarishly deformed pair of scissors, and continued, “...’Nightmare Moon take my soul, I swear!’ and then, he looked me in the eye, and said ‘yes.’ Right then, more than any other moment that night, I thought I was going to die.”
“My precious Nighty made the most adorable whimpering noise…”
“Velvet,” he whined in a theatrical growl through the side of his mouth, “don’t call me that in front of guests. It makes me sound like a mare’s pajamas.”
“But he’s not a guest any more.” Twilight Velvet rolled off of the couch and trotted around the coffee table to give the surprised pegasus a hug, announcing that, “Our Flashy-Washy is family now!”
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The last embers of the fire added neither warmth nor light to the room, but they were visible through the last drops of wine in the glass, silhouetting the dust that should have been left in the bottle. Night Light snored quietly on Flash’s shoulder while Velvet lifted herself onto the couch to drape herself over her husband. She rested her chin on his ribs and looked up at the blue unicorn with a tender grin, then shifted her gaze over to the younger pegasus. “You’ve been unusually quiet tonight.”
“I’ve had a busy day.” He turned and regarded the distorted face of his future mother-in-law. Whether the distortion was from looking at her through the bowl of his wine glass, or through the wine it formerly held, he didn’t know. “I’ve had a lot to think about.”
“It’s a big decision. Are you sure you’re ready?”
“No.” It felt a little like admitting failure, but he didn’t hesitate to tell the truth.
Velvet closed her eyes and took a slow breath, exhaling with a few notes of some melody Flash almost recognized. “Good answer.” She opened her eyes, eyes that Flash definitely did not recognize. Hard eyes that seemed out of place on such a sweet, tender mare, mother of two and astronomer’s wife. “You’ll never be ready.”
He certainly wasn’t ready for that. “Wh... what?”
Velvet rolled her head to the side, looking directly up toward her slumbering pillow. “Sometimes,” she almost whispered, “sometimes I’m not sure that I’m ready.” Flash thought he might have heard a sniffle before she lifted her foreleg and started tracing Night’s chin. “No, that’s not it. There’s just no such thing as ready. Not for this. Not for what life throws at you.”
Without breaking his gaze away from the graying couple who were piled against him, Flash clumsily set his glass on the end table behind him. Without looking down, Twilight Velvet said, “It’ll be worse, you know. Everything life throws at you will hurt her, too. And that hurts more.” She closed her eyes again, but this time they seemed softer and wetter when they opened. “Every choice you make has the potential to hurt her. You’ll hurt her in ways you won’t even know.” Her hoof froze.
Snapping her head up and blinking rapidly, Velvet looked at the young face that was a few shades too pale. “Oh dear, I’m scaring you now.” She smiled and reached a forelimb around her husband, putting a comforting hoof on Flash’s shoulder and hugging Night at the same time. “Hurt is just a part of loving somepony. You can’t love if you’re not open to being hurt. Just keep talking to her, and let love work it out. Shame, silence, and secrets will only make things worse.”
The only light in the room was a splash of moonglow reflecting off the stone floor in the hallway. It was just enough light that Flash could make out one particular spot on the coffee table, a dark knot in the polished walnut, a black coal spouting smoky vapors that flowed both downstream and upstream in a river of rosy heartwood, all the way to the wood’s end in both directions. He’d hurt fillies before; nothing terrible, just stupid stuff that a colt does before he figures out how to deal with emotions and such. He was terrified that he might do something to hurt Twilight, and getting married would only make that pain so much worse than a shattered high school romance.
A poke in the ribs pulled him out of the river, and a warm look from motherly eyes dried him off. “It’s worth it, you know. All the pain. I’d rather share all the pain in the world with the stallion I love than never have to deal with pain at all.”
The empty wine bottle reflected a flash of light from a spark that briefly eluded gravity’s prison, catching the stallion’s eye. Flash intoned, “I know a pony who chose not to deal with pain.” Velvet looked down and nodded somberly, waiting for him to continue. “I’m not going to let the prospect of pain keep me from taking the risk, but I’ll take as much happiness as I can get for us.”
“No Flashy, you don’t take happiness. You make it, together.” She squeezed his hoof, and they shared a smile for what was entirely too little time.
“Now if you would be so kind as to stop cuddling with my husband,” she cooed as she used her magic to ever so slightly lift him off of the slightly squashed pegasus, “I think it’s time to go to sleep.” Flash grinned self-consciously and tried not to think about the drool on his shoulder while he slid out from under the pile of blue stallion. Velvet replaced the bleary-eyed feathery pillow with a few throw pillows before allowing Night Light to sink down into a comfortable sleeping position.
As she settled into a comfortable recline against her husband, she whispered, “You’re welcome to sleep on the recliner if you like. There’s blankets…”
Flash shook his head. “Thanks, but no. I think a walk in the cold air would do me good. I’ve got a proposal to plan, and a ring to pick out tomorrow.”
“I hope you enjoy the walk back to your apartment. Good night, Flashy.”
“Wait just one second, mister!” Twilight exclaimed immediately after sitting down on the velvety cushion next to the table. Spike inhaled sharply, nearly dropping his upright bass. The waiter paused just a few feet behind the lavender alicorn, looking pensively at Flash Sentry for direction. “I think I know what’s going on here,” she declared, glancing from side to side suspiciously.
“Oh do you now? I’m not sure you know what you think you know,” Flash said, resting his elbows on the table and perching his chin on his steepled hooves.
“Hmmm, let me check my list,” she announced officiously as a scroll of parchment appeared in a purple flash in front of her. Flash just grinned while everypony nearby rolled their eyes and groaned. Twilight cleared her throat, looked down her nose at the smug stallion, then began reading. “Fancy Prench restaurant? Check. Flowers?” She glanced unnecessarily at the bouquet just inches from her muzzle, shifted her gaze up to the blue eyes that were locked on her own, raised one eyebrow, and acknowledged their presence. “Check.”
Spike laid down an undercurrent of smooth jazz while Sweetie Belle hummed wordlessly next to him. They both grinned when they saw Twilight turn around and wink at them. “Music? Check.”
“Candles? Check.” She poked Flash with a hoof as if checking to see if he was real, before grunting and triumphantly completing the list. “Nervous stallion? Check.”
“So then, what’s your theory? What, exactly is going on here, Princess?”
“Oh, it’s something nefarious. Dastardly, even.” The parchment rolled up and disappeared in a flash. “It seems that I’m on a date.”
“You don’t say?” Flash couldn’t help but chuckle at the silly tradition he’d accidentally started on their first date. Well, the first one that she realized was a date, anyway. The ascended genius Princess Twilight Sparkle had thought the blushing stallion took an overnight train ride from the Crystal Empire just to have dinner with a friend. Several times. Or so she had claimed. He wasn’t quite sure that she didn’t just want him to explicitly proclaim his feelings, but then again if half of Shining Armor’s stories were true, then she really was that oblivious.
His confidence restored, the mustachioed watier ambled up to the table. Flash Sentry was too excited to remember what they had ordered; everything was going exactly as planned. The appetizer vanished into the past, swept along by equally insubstantial small talk.
Seafood. He’d ordered the seafood dinner. Crispy dried scum algae, which Flash happened to know tastes better than it sounds, wrapped around a filling of water chestnuts, spicy mustard greens, and some peculiar threadlike mushrooms. It was topped with a sauce that was fermented from some type of seaweed, though he was unsure on the particulars. Just as he took the first bite of his meal, he heard a “Soooooooo…” from across the table.
“My mother tells me that you’ve been spending a lot of time with my father. Apparently, you two were cuddling the other night.”
Flash wasn’t sure if he heard the music stutter, or if that was just the effect of the food in his mouth simultaneously trying to enter his lungs and exit through his sinuses. Her comment seemed to have its intended effect, as Twilight continued her line of thought. “Are you sure you’re not dating him instead of me?”
She let the quiet music carry the moment while Flash sat up straight, dabbed the corners of his mouth with a cloth that was far too silky to make an effective napkin, then took a sip of water and cleared his throat. Meanwhile, she was daintily eating her potato fritter with a levitated fork. They’d been on enough dates that Flash knew she wasn’t exactly a dainty eater, but he wasn’t sure if some sort of Princess training was finally starting to have some success, or if her current daintiness was just for dramatic purposes. She was no Rarity, but she did enjoy her drama.
Flash summoned up all the cockiness he could muster, leaned forward on one elbow and threw Twilight a sly grin. “Well, good looks run in your family, and besides, he’s surprisingly soft and gentle…” He trailed his words off, with what he hoped was a wistful look in his eye as he turned his gaze up to the colorful clouds reflecting the upcoming sunset.
Twilight kept a straight face for several moments, before allowing the edge of her mouth to creep upward in a little smile. Her eyes, however, were not smiling. Not going well. This was not going well any more. Not at all.
“Seriously. It’s good that you’re getting along with my dad, but I’d rather you spend more time with me.” He was wrong. She was giving THAT look. This wasn’t going not well, this was going very well. Too well. Too fast. No, not too fast, just faster than he’d planned.
“That dessert sure was delicious!” he announced sharply, with eyes wide and ears laid back flat against his head.
“Whhh…” Twilight’s mouth hung open for a moment, her face scrunched in confusion. “We didn’t even have dessert, in fact you’ve only had one bite of your entrée and most of that came out of your nose!”
Flash cleared his throat, and then repeated his words exactly, as if reading from a script. “That dessert sure was delicious!”
There was a startled “Oh!” and the clank of silverware against fine ceramic from somewhere behind Flash. Twilight leaned to one side and peered behind the perspiring pegasus who was wearing far too much grin. A fuchsia earth pony dabbed her mouth hurriedly as she turned around and headed toward the couple, before tossing the napkin over her shoulder in the general direction of her own table. Her plastic grin mirrored Flash’s own.
Twilight narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Cheerilee. Nice to see you?”
“Hi there, Twilight! I see you’re on a date with somepony besides Neighcolas Sparks,” Cheerilee recited.
“I may like books more than the average mare, but I’m perfectly capable of having a good date without a book,” Twilight retorted flatly.
“Aaaaaaare you sure about that?” Flash interjected, planting his face between the two mares who suddenly weren’t getting along as well as he had intended.
Twilight was spooling up for an angry reply when she noticed the brightly colored object he was holding out toward her. The wrapping paper was so tightly formed to the object underneath that it was obvious a book lay inside. Cheerilee took the moment of confusion to dash back to her own table and devote all of her attention toward her dish.
Flash decided that he would certainly prefer the current look of confusion to the simmering anger that was evident a moment ago. He wiggled the book in her direction. She took the package in her magic and sat up straight on her pillow. Trying not to grin at the amateur theatrics of the decidedly un-theatrical guard pony, she began carefully unfolding the wrapping paper at the seams.
“Just open it already!” an excited Sweetie Belle squeaked from the dais in the corner.
Twilight turned her head just in time to see two pairs of eyes and a pink bow dip behind the windowsill next to the musical duo. Twilight’s eyes sparkled with mischief, and her horn glowed brighter before all the wrapping paper exploded off in an instant, turning into a cloud of confetti that would have made Pinkie Pie proud.
Before any of the colorful shreds could touch the ground, the librarian’s experienced eye immediately began analyzing the small volume. The book was not terribly old, but certainly not new. Though there was nothing written on the spine, the cover indicated that it was a collection of love songs by Pablo Neighruda, one of the most romantic poets of the previous century. The blush on her cheeks turned into a flush of rage as she opened the cover.
The center of the pages had been cut out, and some trinket was placed inside.
All the color drained from Flash’s face as his plan unraveled. Twilight. Books. Right.
The alicorn’s wings began unfurling as she stood up, shaking with rage, and unceremoniously dumped the white metal band out of the hollow and held the book up in front of Flash. “YOU. DESTROYED. A BOOK?!”
Ponies at nearby tables were already getting up, some of them moving toward the fire exits instead of the front door. Those brave enough to cast a nervous look over their shoulders only became more alarmed at the sight of shimmering heat waves rising off of Twilight’s back.
Panicking, the stammering pegasus held his hooves out in front of his body as if to ward off an attack. “No, Twi, close the book! Close the cover! Now look again!”
Flinging the cover open wildly, Twilight pointed a hoof at the… perfectly intact pages, each covered in romantic thoughts that cascaded from cover to cover as the book’s leaves fluttered in the angry puffs of her each breath. Her lecture dissolved into a series of half-word noises. “Wha… but… I… you…”
“I happen to know an alicorn who knows how much you appreciate books, and whose special talent is helping ponies do things like this…” The trembling stallion gingerly picked up the ring with the feathers of his wingtip, and kneeled on the ground next to the table. For the first time, Twilight noticed the antique ring with its three tastefully small diamonds surrounded by intricately engraved swirls.
She breathlessly pointed a hoof at the ring, sputtering, “Th-that’s my grandmother’s ring!”
“Your mother insisted. Twilight Sparkle, I have a question for you…”
______________________________________________
Dessert actually was delicious, though neither of them talked about it. As they were sharing the last bites of crispy caramel on top of the brûlée, Cheerilee came up behind Twilight and gave her a side hug, whispering loud enough for Flash to hear, “Careful Twilight, I hear this fella was buying dinner for other mares tonight!” When she was done squeezing, she took a step back to address them both. “Congratulations, you two!”
Twilight’s face was painted with blush for what felt like the four thousandth time that night. Watching her facial expression circus was now one of Flash’s favorite pastimes. Nopony could know what Twilight was thinking, but whatever feelings those thoughts elicited were always painted right on her face.
Flash had arranged for most of her friends to be waiting in the kitchen or just outside, so they could congratulate her immediately. Pinkie Pie had actually been sitting at a nearby table disguised as an older stallion with a beard and glasses. As Twilight watched Pinkie bounce her way back to Sugarcube Corner, Flash watched Twilight smile with what looked like a bit of fright. She was probably thinking of the engagement party that must be in the works. Next, Twilight blanched, probably realizing that Pinkie would insist on throwing a bachelorette party too. Flash blushed along with her, as they both thought of what might be at a Pinkie Pie bachelorette party.
Her thoughts came fast, and they kept coming for a long while.
“Did you make it back to Earth okay?”
Twilight started, then turned to look at the source of the voice, a pale pegasus whose blue eyes reflected the gleam of streetlamps somewhere between the restaurant and the library.
“Huh?”
“You got lost for a while there, Twilight.”
“Oh, yeah, just in my head. It’s not like I didn’t guess this was coming eventually. Or at least I should have. I mean, you gave up your post in the Crystal Guard to move closer to me. Spending all that time with my dad. The clues were all right there.”
“Clues, yeah, Shining says you can miss those sometimes.”
“Wait.” Twilight abruptly stopped walking, then turned her head to look at her new fiancé. “Exactly how much was my brother involved in this?”
“Uhhhh… you’ll have to define ‘this,’” Flash replied, hoping she wouldn’t.
She did. “All of this.” She emphasized by swinging a hoof in wide circles. “Us.”
Flash sighed. “You bumped into me, remember? Like, twice.” He resumed walking along the lamplit cobblestones.
Twilight Sparkle jumped in front of him, planting all four hooves on the street. “Oh no, you don’t get away that easy. Shining: How. Much. Involvement?”
“It’s not like he was just trying to marry you off… Wait. That came out wrong.” Flash dragged a hoof between his eyes and down his muzzle. “Look, several ponies noticed when you bumped into me, and the Crystal Empire is, well… Let’s just say that Princess Cadance is a perfect fit as their princess.”
“What was I, some sort of national project? There was the continental railroad, the ‘Manehattan Project,’ and ‘Operation Get Twilight Hitched?’” she counted off on an imaginary list with her eyes crossed.
“You make it sound like it was so difficult,” the stallion protested with a grin, hoping to elicit a chuckle.
She fumed. “Oh, so it was EASY?”
“Oh sweet Luna, that is NOT what I meant at all.” He dropped his chin to the ground, covering his face with his hooves, and groaned. “Quick, magic a zipper over my mouth before I say something else stupid.”
Twilight lay down next to him, wrapped a wing around him, and nuzzled an ear. “So, when are you going to start using my name in vain as a curse word?”
The prostrate pegasus lifted one hoof off of his face and peered at the strange pony who had joined him on the ground. That question had caught him off guard, and he was always on guard. He blinked a few times, grew a devilish grin, lifted his head confidently and replied, “On the honeymoon.”
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About a dozen mostly-playful punches, a short walk, and a pleasant conversation later, the couple came to a stop in front of the wooden door of the library. They stood there for a moment, illuminating themselves with the warm light from within.
The traditional word to end all dates: “Well…” Flash looked everywhere except right at Twilight, but a slight movement of her head caused the diamond ring to catch light from within the library, refracting a thousand world’s worth of fire through her grandmother’s stone. And that was nothing compared to the fire in those dark amethyst eyes. A fire that would burn him up, consume him entirely, and he couldn’t wait to fall into it.
But he would wait, because he was a gentlecolt. He darted in for a quick peck on the cheek, but not because he was afraid he would lose his nerve if he waited. Boy oh boy was he not afraid of that. “ThanksTwilightloveyouseeyoulaterbye!”
She blushed, but didn’t turn away. “Wait.”
Flash froze with one foreleg curled in the air, already halfway turned around with wings extended for takeoff. Whatever she wanted, it couldn’t be good. She sounded sad. He hated that sound, the strain in her voice, like stretched glass.
He set his hooves on the ground, but didn’t turn to face her. He was too afraid. Was this what Twilight Velvet meant when she said love means opening yourself up to hurt? Flash had faced monsters head-on, even met face to face with Twi’s parents. It wasn’t just the guard training, he had always met problems that way. Better to keep the problem right in front of you, where you could see it, match it, keep it under control.
But this? This was something he couldn’t fight. Somehow Twi had found a single word that was even more terrifying than “we need to talk.” Dear Celestia, how she threw that phrase around like she didn’t know it was a nuclear weapon! It would have lost its power if she didn’t occasionally weaponize it. Unintentionally, of course, as all mares were somehow genetically prone to do. A world of meaning and dark possibilities; what horror was it that couldn’t be put off till another night, a night that wasn’t already so perfect that…
He felt a hoof on his shoulder, and glanced up to see the warm glow of the library interior reflected in her eyes like glowing coals, melting away his paralysis. She pursed her lips in a concerned smile. “I’m not the only one who gets lost sometimes, you know.” She leaned forward, touching her forehead to his.
Flash relaxed enough to listen, but not enough to speak. Twilight leaned back so they could comfortably make eye contact. “We can’t get married unless Celestia gives us her blessing. I’m sure you thought of that.” Flash was already nodding. “I’m also sure you didn’t ask her already, because she wouldn’t bless us unless she knew I’d already said yes.”
“That’s, uh, that’s not too bad. Right? I mean, she’s really nice, and I used to be in Princess Cadance’s personal guard, so she knows I’m trustworthy. And she had to know why Shining had me transferred to Canterlot, all you princesses talk to each other. Right?”
“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” Twilight murmured while she nuzzled his cheek. Pulling back again, she lowered her voice. “Unfortunately, there’s a problem.”
The stallion had already been through the entire range of blood pressure and heart rate that night. If he hadn’t noticed her mischevious grin, he might have had a heart attack or a stroke right then. Probably both. He narrowed his eyes and drawled, “Continue?”
“Princess Celestia just left for a diplomatic mission to help Saddle Arabia settle a dispute with one of their neighbors. She won’t be back for nine weeks.”
Flash deflated with relief, panting. “That’s it? ‘Wait’ and ‘there’s a problem’ and ‘unfortunately’ and… and…” He took a deep breath, feeling his sweat starting to become cold in the clear night air. He harrumphed, then paused. “Are you actually trying to kill me?”
Twilight Sparkle tapped his chest with one hoof and smirked. “No, I’m just trying to give your heart a workout, make sure you’re in good cardiac shape.”
“What for?” he asked with a wrinkled brow.
“For the honeymoon.”
By the time Flash had stopped sputtering, Twilight had long since gone inside and turned out the lights, but not before swishing past him and brushing her tail all the way down his neck, over his wings, and off of his flank. He blinked a dozen times rapidly, followed a few shallow breaths with a deep one, and leapt into the air.
Altitude. He needed lots of altitude. Up where it’s very cold. Maybe he would try to touch the moon on his way back to Canterlot.
______________________________________________
Flash Sentry had always liked cold air. Hot air seemed like trying to breathe in a blanket; horribly suffocating, like putting your lungs into a prison cell. Maybe it was a pegasus thing. His ancestors were born and died in the clouds, up where the chill quickened the blood and brightened the complexion.
Glancing to his right, he couldn’t miss the dendritic ice crystals glowing in the moonlight as they inched their way across his feathers. He grinned, twisting the feathers slightly so that they fluttered in the wind, turning his wingtips into a bright rippling creek, reflecting his mental state.
How lucky was he? Just a guard pony, no political connections, certainly not from the kind of family that a princess would want to associate with. Yet here he was, engaged to a princess. Somehow, he didn’t find that thought as exciting as maybe it should have been. He would have been perfectly content to marry the cute librarian. Content was a good thing. Content looked like a pair of unicorns on a couch, smiles on their sleeping faces. Content was a wink over your shoulder as you comfort the nervous colt who is taking your only daughter away from you.
He pumped his wings harder against the thin wisps of air that remained in this layer of the atmosphere. He was high enough to look down on Canterlot, and would have been home by now if he hadn’t decided to get so much altitude. No, not home. That was just an apartment. A step along the path that would take him home. What would home look like?
He couldn’t imagine any home that didn’t have Twilight Sparkle in it. He would wear an ascot as they shared a seat by the fireplace and read books silently, leaning on each other. Or bantered back and forth. Maybe with a little filly or a colt running around. And Spike. Spike? Would Spike live with them, and be like an older brother to their kids? Or get his own place, and be a cool uncle?
Maybe the princesses could turn Spike into a fire-breathing unicorn so he could woo Rarity. Or Sweetie Belle? He was closer to Sweetie in age and maturity, plus they had been playing so much music together. Had Spike matured enough to realize that it wasn’t going to work out with Rarity? No, what probably happened was Spike started hanging out with Sweetie to get more time with Rarity, and then realized how much he liked Sweetie Belle...
Wow. He had definitely spent too much time in the Crystal Empire. All that matchmaking made him sick — and engaged. He was engaged! Why was he engaged? Sweet shivering Celestia, he was engaged!
Flash nearly fell out of the sky, tumbling, encountering turbulence that existed only in his head. Taking a moment to relax his wings, he let instinct take over. Was it instinct that made Twilight catch his eye in the first place? Certainly she was attractive. But there were plenty of gorgeous mares all over Equestria. None of them had that smile, the one where you could tell she was planning something, or the one where you just knew that…
Well. Maybe he just spent so much time with her that he got used to her mannerisms and expressions. Except he hadn’t. Every one of his previous fillyfriends had more hours on the together clock than Twilight did. There were cute neighbors and friends whose faces he knew better than hers, only, he could feel her face. He knew what she was feeling just at a glance. He knew her, in a deeper way than he’d known anypony else. It was somehow as if he’d known her for a dozen years, even though he knew that they first bumped into each other only two years ago.
Two years ago, he was just a single guy, dreaming of epic combat and beautiful fillies. He remembered a movie poster with a stallion standing triumphantly on a hill, lifting his sword high into the air, a beautiful mare clutching his leg and looking up at him in a submissive and vaguely provocative fashion. That image summed up the dreams of a growing colt so well. How much he had changed since then! Now his dreams were more of ascots and fireside cuddling, children and books and seeing his friends happy.
Somewhere vaguely below him, Flash could see the Canterhorn beginning to wobble and spin. He couldn’t ever remember being this high before. The sky was blacker than he’d ever seen, the stars frozen and refusing to twinkle, yet somehow living and breathing. His wings were flapping far too fast to be moving this slowly. He twitched his nose and felt ice breaking and flaking off of his nostrils. Looking toward the moon, he pumped his wings not harder but faster, welcoming the cold that stabbed into his overheated muscles. Twilight had flown higher than this, and he would too.
They had common interests. Wasn’t that important? Or was that just a matchmaking service advertisement he saw in a train station? He liked science, even if he didn’t always understand what Twi was talking about. He was well read, too. Not just military history or combat techniques, but classical literature as well. His room in the barracks was a virtual microlibrary. “Every warrior a philosopher” was part of the Guard’s motto. Granted, his fellow guard ponies were more likely to borrow the monster-hunting action novels of Larry Corn E.A. than the treatises of Plahoof or Marechiavelli.
That just didn’t seem like enough, though. A combination of all these things? Instinct, biology, familiarity, common interests? There had to be more. They had to “click” somehow. Was that enough to explain why he had fallen in love? Some sort of staccato onomatopoeia sound effect? It seemed so trite that the sound of a pebble falling to the ground was trying to explain the most important force in the world.
But when a pebble has fallen to the ground with a “click,” does that mean it has found the place it belongs?
Okay, bad example. Flash rolled his eyes and then looked down.
From up here, the world was just a black circle with a crescent of purple around the east from the impending dawn. The nearly frozen pegasus snapped his wings tight against his side, briefly leaving a pair of icy phantoms in their place. An insubstantial dream’s worth of cold air rushed to fill his lungs, failing to deliver oxygen. He was barely breathing; he was falling, but he wasn’t failing. He was falling on his own terms, face-forward. He was diving in, and when he finally hit, it was going to be spectacular.
“We’ve been very patient. But now, we need to know.” Night Light’s stern eyes were betrayed by the eager grin creeping its way toward his ears. Twilight Velvet was nearly bouncing off of her gold-upholstered rocking chair, half-eaten breakfast pastries forgotten in front of her.
“Now that you’re both here together, you can tell us the stor-EEEEEEE!” the graying mare squealed in schoolfilly fashion, clapping her hooves together and leaning forward. She trained her sparkling eyes on the couple sharing the orange couch across the coffee table. “How did he ask you? Was it romantic?” She feigned a swoon over the arm of her chair, holding her forelimb across her forehead, before opening one eye to gauge their response.
Twilight Sparkle leaned against her paragon of romance, wrapping a wing around him. “It was very romantic. First, we discussed him cuddling with another stallion, then he blew seafood out of his nose and bought dinner for another mare who suggested that I couldn’t get a date with anything but a book. Then, he mutilated a perfectly good book and embarrassed me in front of the entire town.” She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. “It was perfect.”
Flash Sentry wasn’t certain whether he should try to explain that, while Twilight’s summary was technically correct, it really wasn’t as bad as his fiancée made it sound. While he was debating, Velvet rolled back over and made a face like she was eating a lemon, then shot a sharp glance at her husband and remarked, “Don’t worry, Flashy, yours was about twenty times more romantic than his proposal was.”
Flash perked up at that, and announced, “Now there’s a story I need to hear. I’m all ears!” His head bounced back and forth between them as he looked towards the two married unicorns, mouth open in an unabashedly eager smile, waiting for somepony to speak up.
Clearing his throat, Night Light finally admitted, “Okay. My proposal could have gone better.”
Velvet raised one eyebrow and growled, “No, Shiny’s wedding could have gone better. Your proposal was… halfhearted.”
“Oh no, dear,” Night pleaded, “my whole heart was in it!”
“And a good quantity of snot, too,” Velvet pointed out. Turning to back to her daughter, she said, “He was sick as a dog, just this horrible cold that I was trying not to catch. Nighty invited me up to his dorm room during visiting hours; I thought we were going to play a board game with his friends, but there was nopony waiting for us in the room.
“So there he was, sitting at his desk while I was standing there like I was lost. He was just kind of, well, wheezing. And sniffling. Then suddenly, it was like he remembered why he brought me up there. So he said, ‘Knock knock.’”
Flash froze in the middle of licking his lips. His eyes grew wider, tongue still locked in place, before he blinked twice and regained control of his mouth. “No. He didn’t.”
Twilight and Night Light didn’t realize it, but Flash noticed that both of them were performing identical facehoof maneuvers, though for different reasons. Velvet’s evil grin absorbed these gestures, becoming more powerful than ever. “Oh yes, he certainly did. As far as I knew, it was just another day. My Nighty has always loved his knock-knock jokes, but he usually prefers to start them when I’m distracted, or busy doing something else. Do you know his favorite one?”
Flash sat up and leaned forward, ignoring the fact that Twilight was slouching deeper into the couch. Flash eagerly piped up, “No, but I can’t wait to find out!”
Velvet grinned and tossed a quick glance at Night before turning back to the pun-hungry pegasus and his unamused alicorn. Night Light grinned in anticipation as Twilight Velvet sat up straight, placed one dainty hoof on her chest and haughtily announced, “I have the world’s funniest knock-knock joke.” She opened her eyes and pointed at Flash. “You start it.”
Flash eagerly began, “Knock knock,” and waited for Velvet’s traditional response.
“Who’s there?” Velvet queried smugly.
“Uh… I… I don’t know,” Flash stammered.
Velvet chuckled. “That’s the joke. I bet you think you’ll never fall for that again, don’t you?”
Attempting to determine whether this was a trick question, Flash haltingly said, “I don’t see how I could. I mean, I already know the trick to it. Why would I even start the joke next time?”
With an explosion of cackling, Night Light burst into the conversation. “That’s the beauty of it! Just wait until you’re distracted with paperwork, chores, or” —he winked at his future son-in-law— “an adorable foal.”
Night waited for Flash to blush before continuing. “That’s when Twilight will pounce, and you’ll find yourself standing in the middle of a joke, wondering how you got there.” The elder stallion leaned back in his chair and folded his forelimbs across his chest as if he’d just won some sort of grand debate.
Twilight slowly emerged from her extended facehoof and looked at her father from underneath low eyelids. “No, dad, I won’t. I really won’t.” Turning back to her mother, Twilight tried to forestall any more knock-knock jokes than the one she knew to be part of the story. “Why don’t you finish giving Flash the embarrassing details of dad’s proposal, so we can tell you all the embarrassing details of ours?”
Velvet nodded. “Where were we… That’s right. Dorm room. Snot. ‘Knock-knock.’ So of course I said, ‘Who’s there?’ I was expecting some sort of a twist, but I wasn’t expecting him to say, ‘My wife?’ and hold up a ring.” She regarded her husband through narrow eyes. “He didn’t even get down on one knee.”
“Well, I’m sorry, I’m not much of a planner,” Night protested. “If you wanted a stallion who could devise a complicated seafood-snorting plan, then you wouldn’t have said ‘yes’ to me.”
Velvet harumphed and said, “I didn’t realize that getting down on one knee required much of a plan.” The elder Twilight turned to the younger Twilight. “He promised me that he would do a proper proposal after we got married.”
Flash’s initial eagerness to hear the story had worn off when the married couple began arguing, and as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, he asked, “Soooooo… I’m guessing he still hasn’t?”
Night Light leaned over in his crimson recliner and reached toward his wife, who scooted to the far side of her chair and avoided his hoof. Night raised his eyebrows suggestively, cooing, “I’ve got to let her have something to look forward to, don’t I?”
Rolling her eyes and giving a resigned sigh, Velvet grabbed her husband’s hoof and pulled the two of them together violently, causing the lighter rocking chair to tip over sideways. As the two chairs collided, the petite unicorn glomped onto her husband, her momentum tipping the recliner over and dumping them into a pile of giggles and smooches on the floor.
Twilight Sparkle gave a snorting laugh, then covered her muzzle with her hooves as she giggled at seeing her parents destroy their own living room. Flash eyed the two chairs lying on their side, the end table tangled up with a lamp, and the two unicorns sheepishly looking up from the floor. Just a moment ago, Flash could have sworn they were having a serious argument, yet here they were, tangled up and nuzzling each other in ways that was frankly starting to make him uncomfortable in a whole different way than he was twenty seconds ago.
Flash leaned over and whispered to Twilight, “Is this, um, do they do that a lot?”
From underneath a blushing Velvet, who was keeping her eyes turned away from the others while she tried to calm her breathing, Night Light spoke up. “Love each other? Hrm, yes, we do this quite a bit.” He was interrupted by a light swat from Velvet, who murmured something in his ear, causing him to blush before he cleared his throat and continued.
“Flash, what’s important in life is often how we react to things. Life will hurt you, those you love will hurt you. You can respond by becoming bitter and returning pain for pain, or you can respond with love.”
Velvet nodded in agreement, her face still buried in the deep blue Night, hugging him tightly.
Twilight’s giggles slowed to a trickle, and then a series of shuddering sighs before she ended with a soft hum for a few seconds. Flash sat next to her, waiting for Night and Velvet to get up, or Twilight to talk, or a peculiar pink party pony to pop up, or some sort of magical apocalypse to begin. He kept waiting, and none of those things happened. So he finally, reluctantly, spoke up.
“Love, huh?”
Lifting herself off of Night’s body, Velvet stepped aside and, smiling, brushed her bangs away from her eyes. Still looking down, she quietly said, “Yeah, love.” Standing aside to leave room for Night Light to get up and levitate the furniture back in place, she elaborated.
“Love is what keeps you together when you get an internship three days train ride away from the pony you love. Love is what keeps you sane when all you’ve got is a sick foal and one part time job. Love is what brings you back together after you hate each others’ guts.”
Night Light stepped next to his wife and wrapped her in a warm hug, finally opening his moist eyes and looking right at Twilight with a soft smile. “Love is all you’ve got when a princess takes away the little filly who means the whole world to you.”
______________________________________________
Her eyes were closed, and it was far too windy to hear anything. Not that he had anything to say to her right now. Flash just enjoyed watching the way she enjoyed flying. She wasn’t born with wings, but she was born to fly.
Most of the times he visited Twilight, Flash tried to show up before dawn. There was a bit of a conspiratorial feel to meeting a pony in the chill early when the first hints of purple appear in the east. She would look to the sky and grin, and then always, always, give him a sidelong glance without turning her head from the stars above, just before rocketing into the sky.
Twilight had only had wings for a few short years, but she was already a better flier than he was. Well, nopony could expect him to compete with an ascended alicorn. Or maybe it was just her personality; anything she decided she wanted to do well, she would practice until she excelled at it. Rainbow Dash had been pestering her to take flying lessons, but Flash liked to think that she wasn’t really motivated to learn until she started flying with him.
Not many ponies ever saw Twilight Sparkle like this. As far as he knew, only he and Princess Luna had ever seen her cutting a path through the crackling air with her horn, bangs inverted by the wind. She had such a cute forehead... Hay, everything about her was cute. But he was the only one who got to appreciate her forehead. Flash chuckled at himself; he really was lovestruck if he was pining after her forehead.
Flash extended the feathers on the trailing edge of his wings, lowering them and spreading them apart enough to gain just a bit of drag. It was enough to slow him down and put him behind Twilight without dropping below her. From their position this high above the world, they could see both the setting sun and the rising moon along the edges of Earth. And there was Twilight, warm glow of orange illuminating her left side while her right side was cast in a cold blue. The Crepuscular Princess, between the sun and moon, and above them both.
She liked to end their days that way; she said that the higher you go, the longer you can see the sun, and the longer the day lasts. She had drawn a diagram on the chalkboard, complete with a mathematical function involving sines and whatnot. Twilight could be romantic when she wanted to, but it did usually involve a chalkboard and equations.
They hadn’t had many days together, but when they did, they tried to make those hours count. Twilight always planned the most interesting days. Interesting to her, anyway. Starswirl the Bearded seemed like a cool enough stallion, but Flash never could understand magic. Something about not having the brain structure to perceive the underlying vibrations of the universe.
But Princess Cadance and Shining had prepared him for those types of events. Apparently the secret is in knowing how to distract Twilight Sparkle, and that was easier than he had thought. He learned enough about magic and math and metaphysics from her letters, but when they had time to spend together, he wanted to learn about Twilight. And sometimes, that meant hoofing over a bag full of bits to a museum curator so he could have an early lunch or schedule an unnecessary repair.
But none of that had been necessary today. After their morning flight, he had gone back to his apartment for a cold shower before meeting her at her parents’ house for breakfast. Night and Velvet had told their engagement story, given some advice, engaged in a disturbing amount of public affection, and then listened to Flash tell the story of his own engagement.
All three of them had been surprised at the amount of planning he had put into the proposal. Not that the planning had been done well, but it wasn’t as if Flash could have gotten help from the most talented organizer in all of Equestria. It was mostly talking to Horte Cuisine about his restaurant, talking to Twilight’s friends about when and where and how and pretty much everything else. There was a lot of talking involved. In fact, he didn’t write anything down at all. No lists.
Both Twilights had been aghast at the thought of planning such an important event without writing anything down. Which had led to the gender rift. Flash had half expected there to be a couch cushion fort with a sign scrawled in crayon warning his gender away, but instead the mares had gone out to go shopping for cake or dresses or, more likely, some sort of list-making device for planning the wedding.
But when the stallions started talking, Flash had suddenly wished he was visiting dress shops and making lists adorned with hearts and flowers. Most of that discussion consisted of things he already knew about a mare’s anatomy from checking out a very educational book from a library far, far from Ponyville. Still, it had been the single most uncomfortable discussion of his life, and it had also felt like the longest. Unfortunately, tomorrow’s interview with Princess Celestia promised to both be more uncomfortable and to feel even longer. At least he hoped that his boss’s boss, Twilight’s mentor, and the goddess ruler of the entire world didn’t want to share with him any information about Twilight’s feminine equipment.
Twilight was dancing through the air, swimming her head left and right to some melody only she could hear. She slowed down enough to pass between Flash and the sun, eclipsing the last vestiges of sunlight coming up from below. While the moon illumined her back and the upper surfaces of her wings, the sun gave her periphery a warm fringe. She was positively glowing.
Wearing a silly grin usually reserved for only the drunkest of stallions, Flash pumped his wings harder a few times, rising higher into the air. As he snapped his wings to his side and entered an upward parabolic trajectory, he wondered if Twilight Sparkle had in fact gained immortality. If that was the case, would his entire life pass by so quickly that in the ocean of her eonic memories, she would hardly notice the single drop of his existence?
As he reached the top of his arc, Flash decided that even if Twilight would live for a million years, at least he could make her happy while he was around. If he was just one of thousands of husbands who would each contribute a tiny moment of bliss to her eternal happiness, then he would make his tiny moment the brightest that it could be.
No corrections were necessary, as Flash was on a perfect intercept course with his fiancée. He extended his legs like a grappling hook and collided with the peacefully gliding alicorn, wrapping all four limbs around her. He held on tight as he put just enough pressure on her wings to keep her from maintaining aerodynamic control. Flash was a true gentlecolt, and determined not to use any of his newfound anatomical knowledge, but he had already known about that spot just below her ear. As Twilight closed her eyes and abandoned control of her wings, Flash Sentry knew that the two of them could afford to tumble out of control for just a few moments.
Soon enough they would be back in control, riding the air currents back toward civilization. But for a very short moment, they were wild.
______________________________________________
Although it was decidedly more posh, and the chairs were more comfortable, this parlor in the palace still had the feel of a doctor’s waiting room. There were more shapes of pillows than Flash had even thought possible. Although he was in the Canterlot Guard, his duties rarely took him into the palace, and he’d never had occasion to visit one of these overly-tasseled rooms. Twilight had already found what Flash guessed was her favorite spot in this room, and was already curled up with a book that she had probably read a few times already.
Of course she wouldn’t be nervous. She was just going to have a friendly chat with the pony who raised her almost as much as her parents did. Outside of Princess Luna, Twilight might be the one to know Princess Celestia better than anypony else. Sure, Flash used to be in Princess Cadance’s personal guard, but the Crystal Empire was much smaller, and certainly less formal.
Flash tried to relax, but finding that impossible, he tried to appear relaxed while Twilight tried to appear as if she wasn’t watching him and taking great delight in his discomfort. “You know,” she began, “you could try hovering. That usually works for Rainbow Dash when she has to wait for something.”
The perspiring stallion spit out the fluffy red cushion he had been unsuccessfully rearranging on the piece of furniture that looked like it would belong in a psychiatrist’s office. With a few gentle flaps of his wings, he began a slow orbit of the room, studying the various paintings and tapestries without taking in any of the details. Tomorrow, he wouldn’t have a clue what this room had looked like.
Momentarily engrossed in the details of the armor on some ancient unicorn warrior, Flash had failed to notice the door open. A guard he didn’t recognize announced that Princess Celestia would be in shortly. Twilight jumped up and moved toward some sort of fancy couch, motioning for him to join her. As he fluttered down to meet her, she gave him a smile that was so confident it made him nervous about how nervous he was. He sat just off her right flank, while she rubbed his back reassuringly with one wing.
Reassuring for whom, Flash was beginning to wonder. Twilight was starting to get that faraway look in her eyes as she continued to caress his back and tickle his right wing with her own feathers. He cleared his throat and shrugged her wing off of his back, raising his eyebrows pleadingly. Her blush indicated that she understood why that wasn’t calming him down, and she folded her wings neatly by her own sides.
Two betrothed ponies sat upon a sea of blood red velvet, anxiously awaiting for their fate or fates to be decided by the goddess of fire and light. Flash chided himself for thinking in such dramatic terms, it certainly wasn’t helping him calm down. She was just a princess, and he used to be very close to another princess; a princess of love, in fact, who thought the marriage worthy enough for attention.
Yes, this was going to go well. Twilight had mentioned him in her letters to the Princess, he was certain of that. The idea that Twilight Sparkle might possibly leave a detail out of one of her letters was, well, absurd. In fact, most of what he knew of Princess Celestia came not from history books or personal interaction, but from Twilight’s letters. Princess Cadance had mentioned him to Princess Celestia, at least as a reference when Shining had him transferred. Princess Celestia absolutely knew about their relationship. In fact, she had probably been keeping tabs on him ever since he moved to Canterlot.
His eyes bulged and his breath fled as he tried to recall every questionable activity he had participated in since his arrival in the capital of Equestria. Flash was a pretty straight-laced kind of stallion, but nopony was perfect. While his ears were still ringing in panic, he saw a pair of long, elegant white legs enter his tunnel vision. Blinking rapidly to regain his focus, he took in the spectacular vision of the Princess of the Sun. This did nothing to calm his heart rate.
Her calm smile, however, worked wonders. She was like some sort of cosmic mother, here to make everything all right. She didn’t even point out that Flash had completely forgotten decorum and neglected to bow, a fact that he realized while the two princesses shared words he didn’t catch. Princess Celestia greeted Twilight with a lingering hug before pulling back and giving her a look that Flash found hard to categorize. Before he could think on it too much, it dissolved into a friendly smile as she turned to him.
“Flash Sentry, I believe we have met before. It’s wonderful to see you and Twilight sharing such a beautiful thing as love.” Princess Celestia smiled broadly, her mane hypnotically reinforcing the message of good will she delivered. “If you don’t mind, Flash, could you please step outside for a moment?”
“Y-yes, your highness!” Flash gave a quick bow before walking briskly to the door, which Princess Celestia closed quietly with her magic.
Standing awkwardly in the empty hallway, Flash shifted his weight from one side to the other. After a few moments, he looked both ways down the curving hallway, listened for hoofsteps, and then quietly approached the door. Gently pressing one ear against the polished wooden surface, he listened to the low murmur of royal voices, unsure of who was speaking.
“…care for you a great deal…”
“…princess now, and that puts you in a whole…”
“…political than romantic…”
“…a serious violation, just a modest…”
“…be okay? I suppose if you’re sure…”
Flash felt the tingle of magic beginning to reach for the door, and he leapt backwards, catching himself with his wings to avoid making too much noise. He quickly but gently lowered himself to the floor, pretending to have been interrupted in his inspection of a completely nondescript column of polished stone.
Upon glancing into the room, Flash noticed that Twilight was no longer sitting on the couch. Princess Celestia motioned toward a single seat across from the two alicorns.
Trying to lighten his own mood at least, Flash quipped, “Soooo… were you two talking about me?”
The smile that had seemed so comforting and motherly a moment ago was now nothing but a poker face. Glancing at Twilight, Flash noticed that she looked a bit uncomfortable, maybe even guilty? Settling onto the plush cushion that had been placed on the floor, Flash looked back and forth between the two princesses.
Renewing her magnanimous mask, Princess Celestia addressed the pensive commoner. “Flash Sentry, as you may be aware, weddings in Twilight’s family have been a bit… troublesome.”
Chuckling, Flash recalled the exciting wedding of his former commanding officer, Shining Armor. Of course, Twilight’s connection to the royalty of Equestria made her a prime target for any sort of attack, deception, or what was it he had heard? A marriage that was more ‘political than romantic.’ Relaxing a bit, Flash nodded and waited for the princess to continue.
“In light of such events, I proposed a modest invasion of your privacy. She agreed that it was prudent.”
To Flash’s left, Twilight also sat facing the princess, just out of wing’s reach. She didn’t look back at Flash, she only blushed and nodded her head, attempting what he supposed was intended to be a smile.
Princess Celestia leaned forward with her regally long neck. Flash closed his eyes as she tilted her long horn down toward Flash’s head.
Flash heard the princess say, “Don’t worry my little pony, this will be over in a moment.” A small jolt of magic sparked into his forehead, like touching a doorknob after shuffling your hooves across a wool carpet. The room spun for just an instant, but quickly righted itself.
He took a deep breath and smiled. “That wasn’t so bad. Are we ready to talk about our engagement?” He opened his eyes, hoping for a pleasant conversation.
Princess Celestia’s smile had left, instead her eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed as if frozen in the first instant of forming a word.
Something was obviously wrong, and Flash Sentry didn’t have a clue what it was. He was breathing faster now. He frantically looked down at his hooves, half expecting to see deep pits in a lustrous black shell over each limb. After staring at his peach colored fur and completely normal pony hooves for several seconds, he looked back up to see that neither of the princesses had moved a muscle.
Neither of them had spoken either, so Flash filled the silent air with the most eloquent sentence he could possibly compose under the circumstances. “What?”
Princess Celestia slowly leaned back into an upright sitting position and elevated her chin into the regal posture that most ponies were used to seeing. She looked up at an imaginary spot on the ceiling before turning her gaze back down to Flash.
Flash gasped at the look of concern for which the ruler of all Equestria had abandoned her poker face. If she was at a loss for words, then whatever was wrong must be very, very bad. Struggling to keep his voice at a reasonable volume, Flash pleaded for answers. “What is it? What’s wrong with me? What did you find?”
Princess Celestia’s voice was disturbingly quiet. Without the Royal Canterlot Volume, her tone was somehow even more serious. “It is not what I have found, little one. I’m afraid it is what I did not find.” She looked toward Twilight and asked, “You did not tell him?”
Twilight Sparkle hung her head lower, using her bangs as a shield to cover her eyes, preventing eye contact with either pony. Princess Celestia took a deep breath, and any last vestiges of a smile were blown off of her face as the air left through her flaring nostrils.
His whole body was trembling with the quick and shallow breaths that were barely supplying oxygen to him. “I… I don’t understand. What’s going on? Twilight, what’s wrong? Why won’t you talk to me?”
When Twilight didn’t respond, Princess Celestia sighed heavily, and turned to Flash. “Twilight is pregnant.”
“This is a joke, right?” Flash wasn’t smiling as he looked back and forth between the two alicorns who were also not smiling.
Princess Celestia was known for being a bit puckish, but her pranks were usually harmless. No, they were always harmless. Flash couldn’t imagine that this was the type of joke that she would play on him, yet he was desperately hoping that she had somehow turned evil. Yes, that would be a net benefit, for the world to fall into a perpetual tyranny of sunlight, if what the sun goddess had just told him was a horrible, cruel joke.
But nopony was laughing. Twilight Sparkle’s silence filled the claustrophobically large room. Flash wasn’t even sure that she was breathing. She hadn’t lifted her head since Princess Celestia had looked inside Flash’s mind. He wished he could see her eyes, he wished that he could leave his seat and comfort her, talk to her, tell her everything was going to be okay.
The cheerfully stoic Princess Celestia was waiting out Flash’s panic attack with a concerned smile that conveyed amusement and a bit of disappointment, but more pity than anything else. The tough guard pegasus was doing his best to avoid whimpering as he shut his eyes and counted the beats of his heart. After he had subdued his pulse enough to vocalize the questions that had been rattling around in his head, they all came out at once.
“Sh-She… How… We-we never—” Princess Celestia held up a hoof to stop the stream of stuttered half-questions.
She actually chuckled. “Countless ponies throughout history have asked those questions. The answer to the ‘how’ is the same as it always was. However,” the elder princess turned her head to look disapprovingly at the younger princess, “princesses are necessarily held to a higher standard than the countless ponies.”
Twilight gave a single, shuddering sob, and Flash winced along with her. He felt pain at the furrowed brow, narrowed eyes, and tight frown that Twilight was ignoring. Even those midnight bangs could not shield her from the shining disapproval of the sun. She undoubtedly felt that gaze penetrating all her defenses and searing into her soul.
A late night campfire and some painfully introspective honesty on Flash’s part had at one point encouraged Twilight to be honest about the single most horrifying moment in her life. She and Flash had both faced deadly monsters, and Twilight had saved all of Equestria from apocalyptic villains on several occasions, but none of that had traumatized her.
King Sombra’s door protection spell was a cruel one, and up till that camping trip Twilight had only ever shared its effects with her assistant Spike and — of course — Princess Celestia. ‘Your worst fears, come true.’ Twilight didn’t say what Spike’s fear was, but her own terror was coming true again right now; only it wasn’t a magical deception that could be broken by a friend shouting one’s name, or a nightmare from which one could be rescued by the benevolent princess of the night.
Princess Celestia spoke again to the wordless couple. “Now, I know that modern sensibilities have changed what is acceptable for normal ponies.” She paused briefly to glance at Flash and back again. “Twilight Sparkle, you and I are not normal ponies.” Twilight’s wings twitched, the tips curling underneath as if trying to hide themselves from the world, and more importantly from her. If Princess Celestia noticed the movement, she gave no indication. “You seem to be two months along. Is that about right, Twilight?”
If Twilight responded to that, it was drowned out by Flash’s own outburst. “Two months? That’s after we got engaged. Th-that means…” Flash’s voice left him when the rest of his breath did.
Princess Celestia nodded, in the way that ponies nod when they agree that you think you have a valid point but they’re about to tell you why you’re wrong. “The fact that you were engaged when it happened might ameliorate the issue somewhat, if you were engaged to a normal pony. Even a more traditional family might overlook this sort of indiscretion for an engaged couple, but for a princess who must bear the responsibility of leadership? That requires a great deal of self-discipline.”
Turning again to address her protégée, the stately alicorn continued in a painfully patronizing tone. “Twilight, even in your short tenure as princess, there has been more than one time that both my sister and I were incapacitated. In an extended emergency, you might need to control both the sun and the moon for some time. A princess with that much power cannot allow herself to fall victim to her passion.”
Flash Sentry had only been half-listening. His ears were ringing and the room was spinning around his head almost as fast as the questions were spinning around inside his head. He had been a perfect gentlecolt. Princess Celestia was right; there was only one ‘how’ that a mare could get pregnant, and they hadn’t done that. At least he hadn’t. Apparently she had. After she told him yes. What other secrets was she keeping? Twilight Sparkle had agreed to spend the rest of her life with him, to start a family with him. And after she agreed to this, she had been with another stallion.
But what Princess Celestia said next was enough to lift that train of thought right off of the rails. “I’m sorry Twilight Sparkle, but for this type of indiscretion, you will abdicate. Furthermore, you will be reverted to your original unicorn body.” The calm evenness of her voice only reinforced the authority it carried.
Flash could no longer prevent himself from whimpering. He had been injured in training, and once in battle, but Velvet was right when she had said that what hurts the pony you love hurts you even more. Perhaps he and Twilight could work out whatever mistakes were made, he was hopeful about that, but what Princess Celestia was doing to Twilight right now, that was going to devastate her.
Before Flash could stew too much, Princess Celestia turned to face him. Flash recoiled from the benevolent ruler as if her gently billowing pastel mane had become a mass of venomous serpents. She looked genuinely apologetic, and if her speech to Twilight Sparkle had been any indication of what was in store for him, then he was truly terrified of any pronouncement for which she could be apologetic.
“Flash Sentry, had your fiancée had been any other pony, this would be unnecessary. For defiling a princess, you will be discharged from the guard, with none of the honors or benefits to which you would be otherwise entitled.” She paused for a moment, putting on her disapproving face again. “You were in Princess Cadance’s personal guard, and you knew what was expected of you in your relationship with Princess Twilight.”
And with that, Flash’s train of thought was back on course, and sparking down the track fast enough it didn’t matter that it was moving sideways. Princess Celestia narrowed one eye and pinched her eyebrows together as she watched the pegasus open and close his mouth like a fish, confusion as evident on his face as shame was on Twilight’s sagging head.
There wasn’t much that dawned on the princess who raised the sun, but if there had been anypony in the room who wasn’t in the midst of a life crisis, it would have been easy to pinpoint the moment when it happened. Her eyes widened as she pulled her head backward, silently mouthing the word ‘oh.’
Taking a moment to straighten her posture and blinking several times with raised eyebrows, Princess Celestia turned her eyes down to her student, seeing her in a new light. She cleared her throat and suppressed a sigh. “There are many…” She cleared her throat again, speaking with an unsteady rhythm and inconsistent pitch that made her statement almost sound like a question. “Some ponies choose to… overlook an indiscretion for the benefit of their new family.”
Blood rushed in Flash’s ears, drowning out all other noise until Twilight let loose a single, quiet sob whose echoes made Flash realize how silent the room had truly been. He dragged his gaze over to his left and watched as Twilight began trembling.
Seeing the way his shoulders slumped to match Twilight’s, Princess Celestia softened her posture. “Flash, nopony would blame you if you chose not to claim another stallion’s foal as your own. You would be reinstated in your old position in Princess Cadance’s personal guard, unless working so closely with Twilight’s brother would make you uncomfortable. I believe that you have shown enough personal integrity that I could promote you to an equivalent position in my own guard.
“Unfortunately, public knowledge of Twilight’s more egregious indiscretion means that her punishment must be somewhat more severe. Such infidelity on the part of a princess would require her to spend a year in the dungeon, in addition to her abdication and descension. The foal would of course become a ward of the state, as the father is obviously untrustworthy.”
Before the princess had finished her explanation, Flash was already flaring his nostrils and shaking his head. “No. I won’t let Twilight be locked up. I… I still love her. I can’t let you do that.”
Twilight’s ears perked up at that comment, and her wings relaxed enough to lay smoothly against her side. She still did not raise her head, though Flash imagined that her eyes shifted in his direction.
Flash remembered buying a sword immediately after he signed up for the guard. He had thought it would be a good idea to become familiar with the feel of a blade under his wing before he embarrassed himself in front of the other recruits. Instead, he had stabbed himself in the back of his foreleg. It was nothing life-threatening, but he had needed stitches. The most painful part of the experience was not the steel edge separating his muscle tissue, nor the blade twisting in his flesh as the grip fell to the ground. The worst pain was knowing that it was his own damn fault that he had hurt himself.
And now he was turning down a promotion, and getting himself fired, just to protect the mare who had betrayed him? He just stabbed himself in the leg all over again. Why? Why would he do that?
Because he loved her.
He remembered all the things that Twilight Velvet and Night Light had said about love. He could see himself and Rainbow Dash, watching the sunset together while reclining on a flaming orange cloud, discussing what it means to be loyal. He recalled the early morning sun peeking through a window as a weary crew of ponies assisted a haggard seamstress who mistakenly overcommitted. Flash also remembered a pony who gave up on love, crawling into her own little glass prison.
No, he wasn’t going to give up on love.
“Princess Luna didn’t lose her wings.”
Even if he had to anger the sun goddess to fight for his princess.
Head-on, just like any other problem in his life. He lifted himself to a standing position, kicked away the comfort of the soft warm cushion from underneath himself, and rooted all four hooves on the floor. As Flash lowered his head and narrowed his eyes, Princess Celestia screwed her mouth into a thoughtful frown. After a few moments of staring down the tiny pegasus, she inhaled sharply through her flaring nostrils, and spoke very slowly.
“My sister had millennia of responsible rule to her credit before her ‘indiscretion.’ Twilight Sparkle fell to her own passions a few paltry years after her coronation. My sister was banished to the moon for a thousand years. Would you prefer for Twilight to watch from a distance while all of her friends die of old age?”
Flash deflated, his anger turned inward as he remembered that Princess Celestia was perhaps the one pony who loved Twilight Sparkle as much as he did. He sank lower and lower to the floor as she lectured, until his belly was pressed against the cold marble floor. Although his ears were flat against the back of his neck, he had no trouble hearing the quiet anger in the alicorn’s voice.
“Or maybe I should turn her to stone? Banish her to the arctic ice?” Princess Celestia returned to a sitting position and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. She closed her eyes, and when she reopened them, she was again wearing the regal smile that Flash was beginning to despise. “Flash Sentry, I care a great deal for Twilight. She is my most… She is my beloved student. I cannot allow her to remain a princess, but I can give her back the life she enjoyed as a librarian, surrounded by her friends.”
Twilight’s ears perked up at the last part, and she raised her head, sniffling. Although still trembling, she managed to look up at her mentor, who benevolently smiled down at her. Flash raised himself to a sitting position on the floor and leaned forward in an attempt to make eye contact with Twilight, but the best he could achieve was being able to see the tear-stained corner of one eye.
Princess Celestia addressed the pony who had been silent for so long. “Twilight Sparkle, you have learned a great deal since you moved to Ponyville. I want to give you a second chance, because I know for absolute certain that you will continue to learn and grow. Some day, you may grow to be the pony that I had thought you were.”
Upon hearing those last five words, Twilight broke down again, this time collapsing onto her seat cushion and curling into a ball, covering her face with her wings. Her unrestrained sobs were directed into the red velvet cushion, but they still echoed loudly around the room, wounding Flash with each trip between the walls.
Flash saw Princess Celestia looking briefly down at her gold-shod hooves, noticing that she did not completely avoid being injured by the sharp cries. She looked back up with moist eyes that betrayed her unwavering voice. “Flash Sentry, your future and hers are both determined by your answer to this question. Is Twilight carrying your foal?”
This was the part that was going to hurt. He had already been wounded by her, and it would be a long time before he would even know the extent of the damage, but now he had to choose how to wound her. Flash shuffled his hooves, trying to think of any decision that was more than refusing to make a decision.
Princess Celestia stomped one hoof, the brass shoe ringing clearly and pulling Flash’s attention up toward her ancient, hardened eyes. She ignored Twilight’s continued whimpering and spoke words like a brick wall. “Twilight Sparkle has disrespected herself, the nation of Equestria, and you. As harsh as it may sound, her choices led to the situation she is in now, and there are consequences to her choices.” Letting her pristine white shoulders droop slightly, she relaxed her brow and burned through Flash’s soul with gentle eyes. “You are in the unique position to lighten her punishment, should you still love her.”
Flash sat up straight, steeling himself for the pronouncement he was about to deliver. Blinking away the tears as fast as they were produced, he summoned his stiffest military bearing. “I demand to accept Twilight’s punishment in her place.” Keeping his eyes forward, he put every ounce of his will into not looking toward Twilight.
The princess gave that damned smile again, softly replying, “I’m afraid that is not how this works.”
He had expected that. “You said that her choices have consequences. What if she did not have a choice in the matter? Her pregnancy was the result of my choice, without her consent. She would not be punished, correct?”
Princess Celestia froze. Her face decayed into a paler shade of white as she began to understand what Flash Sentry had proposed. Her wings twitched as her heart wavered between anger, pity, and awe. “We all know that is not what happened. Even if you wish to confess to such a heinous crime, that does not change the fact that Twilight lacks the self control to rule Equestria.”
“You said you wanted to give her a second chance. Give her a chance to grow and learn, without taking away her wings or shaming her in front of the world. Take my wings instead, and throw me in the dungeon.”
The elder princess was genuinely confused, taking several moments to collect her thoughts as she squinted at the stallion who was standing rigidly at attention, eyes locked forward as if he had just refused a blindfold before the firing squad. Princess Celestia squeezed her eyes closed and reached up to massage her forehead with one hoof, inhaling for a long-winded speech. “Why…” She opened her eyes and dumped the rest of her speech along with the contents of her lungs, then continued. “Flash Sentry, you could have a promising career and a chance to find another special somepony, or you could have a quiet life with the mare you love.”
“I could let you send her to a dungeon cell for a year, only for her to return to her friends and family a shameful and broken shadow of the magnificent creature I asked to marry me. Or, I could claim another stallion’s foal as my own, and pretend that we’re a happy family. She would be stuck with me, not because she loves me, but because I kept her out of the dungeon. I don’t think Twilight can ever have happiness with either of those two options. So I know that I can’t.”
Flash was doing all he could to keep his voice level, though he couldn’t stop his eyes from watering. “But I can give her a chance to be happy; a chance to keep her wings, be with somepony she loves, and forget about me.”
Standing up and taking two steps to stand before Flash, Princess Celestia was the first pony to move since the conversation had started. She leaned down to look him face-to-face, then smiled, gently and lopsided, putting both her eyes and her whole heart into it. Flash wondered if she had ever been a mother, and if this was how a mother was supposed to make a pony feel.
She placed one wing on his shoulder. “The way a pony treats those who have hurt him speaks a great deal about his character.” Bringing up her other wing to bracket his shoulders, she pleaded with him, “But Flash, this is not the ancient sea; you do not have to go down with the ship. I know that you are very hurt right now, but this is a decision that needs to be made with logic, not emotion.”
Flash looked at his hooves and blushed. “I, uh, I actually made a decision matrix in my head.” Twilight snorted a quick laugh, then buried her face in the pillow again. Flash didn’t turn his head, but his ears twitched and he almost grinned. “All three options end up with me being unhappy. Options one and two make Twilight unhappy. Only option three gives Twilight a chance to be happy.”
“Why does her happiness matter so much to you?”
“I. Love. Her.”
“She has violated your trust. She must be punished.”
“What?” Flash couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She was definitely not acting like herself. He could only stammer a reply. “You don’t… You can’t… A relationship isn’t about punishing, it’s about, well, love. And stuff.” Calming himself for a few seconds, he thought back to Night Light and Twilight Velvet. “It’s about putting her happiness above my own.”
Princess Celestia grew a motherly smile, sighed, and leaned back to sit up straight again. “That is true, my little pony, but what you propose is not a relationship.” The motherly quality of the look remained, but it was no longer a smile. “Your confession would be more akin to suicide.”
Flash looked down at the floor, pulled his shoulders back, and resumed his forward gaze as the princess continued her lecture. “Such a horrifically violent crime is nearly unheard of in Equestria. And there has never been one recorded against a princess. You wanted to accept Twilight’s punishment in her place, but the punishment for this crime would be far more severe than for her crime.”
Squeezing his eyes shut and grinding his teeth, Flash listened to Princess Celestia’s sentence. “In addition to losing your wings, you would become a permanent resident of the dungeon.”
He thought of all the things he would lose: his friends, his family, his career, his love. Essentially all of his friends were her friends or family, and at this point were already lost to him. His family had been lost before he met Twilight. And his career was either working for her brother or working for her mentor. He had nothing in this life except for Twilight, and he’d lost her before he ever had her.
There wasn’t much he would actually be giving up. “I understand.”
Princess Celestia quietly mumbled, “Very well.” She then took a few steps backward and settled back into her regal demeanor as a pair of unicorn guards quickly shuffled in to stand at her sides. They glanced down at the purple princess curled up on a tear-soaked pillow, and then to their fellow guard stallion who was standing at attention but breathing in panicked gasps. Their confusion was evident as they looked to their princess for the reason they had been summoned.
In her official voice, the regent of Equestria announced to all present, “Flash Sentry, for the crime in question, your sentence shall be the loss of your wings, and permanent imprisonment in the dungeon.”
The unicorn guards shot each other identical looks, and immediately marched over to Flash, standing imposingly close to him on either side. Trembling, Flash realized that even if he were to turn his head to try and see Twilight, he wouldn’t be able to get a glimpse of her around the gold-armored unicorn who was glaring at him.
Princess Celestia looked directly at Flash with ice-cold eyes, and seemed to grow taller, filling up the entire parlor. The terrified pegasus recalled stories of explorers who had become trapped under a falling boulder or log, and were forced to cut off a limb to escape. He wondered if he would be able to maintain his resolve if the princess took any longer to ask the question.
She took one more deep breath, and asked the question. “Do you confess?”
Flash gulped one time, licked his lips, and returned her cold gaze. “I do.”
Princess Celestia smiled. A genuine, happy smile. Her shoulders relaxed with relief, and she released the breath she had been holding. For an instant, Flash thought she might hug him. Before his confusion could rise past the level of his panic, she said, “So be it.”
The instant those words had left her mouth, the princess disappeared. The room shrank and retreated from Flash’s senses. The world bowed and spun, shuddering, causing ripples in the walls of solid marble as Flash fought back the bile rising in his throat. The unicorn guards, unfazed by Celestia’s abrupt teleportation, placed a sturdy canvas wing wrap around his chest, securing it with their magic before pulling him toward the door.
He walked willingly, as well as he was able in the spinning room. As he was turning the corner, he realized that there was nothing left for him, no reason for him to look back. He looked back anyway. Twilight didn’t even glance in his direction.
“This is a joke, right?” The bespectacled unicorn wasn’t smiling as he looked back and forth between the two armored unicorns who were also not smiling. His clipboard was floating forgotten next to him as he glanced to Flash’s despondent face, and then back to the stern guards flanking him, and finally to the secure wrap that was tightly constricting the pegasus’ wings.
Since leaving Twilight in the parlor, Flash had allowed his head to droop as he shuffled along between the two guards. He had stopped paying attention to their route as they led him through the white marble hallways that comprised the palace’s more opulent wing, usually reserved for visiting dignitaries and state functions. By keeping his eyes down, he had also been hoping to avoid eye contact with anypony, because he was afraid that he might recant his confession in an attempt to explain that he wasn’t the monster he had claimed to be.
Which is exactly why Sanguine Blade was the last pony he wanted to see. Flash’s panicked breathing would have been shallow enough without the sun-colored canvas band that had been secured around his body to keep him from flying away. He nearly stopped breathing entirely when the familiar scratchy voice rasped across his ears and threatened to pull his attention away from the easy-to-clean varnished cement under his hooves.
“Flash, boy, I’d say it’s good to see you, but, uh...” Using a hoof to nudge his glasses a bit higher on his maroon muzzle before stepping around the sterile white exam table, Sanguine took a closer look at his young visitor. “Didn’t I tell you I don’t want to see you any more?”
Flash didn’t need to look up to know that Sanguine was scrunching his nose and grinning, about to say, “At least, not at work.”
When the bound pegasus didn’t look up, or even chuckle at the overused joke, Sanguine set his clipboard on a brushed stainless countertop and turned back to the puzzling trio. “Now, there’s a few things that confuse me here.” He lifted one carefully-manicured hoof to Flash’s chin, raising the young stallion’s frown to a level with his own stubble-covered face.
“It looks an awful lot like you’re under arrest, and you look too healthy to need a surgeon. Do you want to tell me what’s going on here?” The concern in his old friend’s eyes filled Flash with a guilt that he had not earned.
One of the guards spoke up first, though his statement sounded almost like a question. “Princess Celestia has declared that he is to be Grounded.” Squinting one eye, he looked first to his partner who nodded to confirm what was spoken, then to Sanguine.
The surgeon’s bushy eyebrows climbed up his forehead as his eyes widened. “She wants what?” Blinking three times, he stammered, “That’s… that’s torture. Mutilation. I can’t believe that Princess Celestia would order that.” Straightening his posture and looking the nearer of the guards in the eye, Sanguine said, “I refuse to perform such a brutal act without written orders fr—”
With an unamused expression, the other guard wordlessly levitated a scroll from behind his back and presented it to Sanguine. Taking it in his magic and unrolling it, Sanguine talked as he read the orders. “I refuse to perform such a brutal act, at all. Ever. If she doesn’t like it then she can throw… me…” His mouth hanging open, he turned to Flash with the same look of disappointment that was evident on Celestia’s face when she first realized Twilight’s infidelity. “T-tell me that this… this isn’t true, boy. Please. Flash?”
Raising his eyes, Flash looked at the frizzy, wiry mane that he had watched turn from a lustrous silvery blue to a crisp white. Forcing himself to relax his jaws enough to speak, his mouth abortively formed several words before his breath caught up. “I wish I could.”
As much as he didn’t want to, Flash couldn’t avoid glancing at those golden eyes that had watched him turn from an angry bully of a colt into the kind of disciplined warrior that any pegasus would be proud to become. Age hadn’t dimmed the sparkle in those eyes, but now Flash had.
Watching his mentor sink to the ground, Flash wanted nothing more than to tell the truth, to explain that he wasn’t that kind of stallion. To explain that Sanguine’s years were not invested in vain.
“Isn’t that the filly you talked to me about? I thought I knew you better than that, boy. I thought you loved her.”
No, more than anything else, Flash wanted to protect Twilight. She could never be happy with him, but he could give her a chance to be happy. Because he did love her. Why he would love her still, he had no idea.
Flash looked up, only to see that Sanguine Blade had already turned his back, and was pulling books out of a bookshelf, glancing at them, and shoving them back with more force than was necessary. After a few minutes of grumbling to himself without finding what he was looking for, he marched back to the guards, refusing to look at Flash.
“I have very little concrete knowledge about what a ‘Grounding’ is, nothing more than campfire stories, really. And it’s not in any of my manuals, either. I’ll need a reference book from the library, but I don’t know where to look for it. Who even knows how long it’s been since they were anything but legend.”
Taking as deep a breath as his restraints would allow, Flash spoke up before the guard to his left could finish his teleportation spell. “It’s been about nine-hundred twenty-five years. Look in the military history section, first century A.N., ‘Fallout of the Lunar Rebellion’ encyclopedic compendium.” Looking up in time to see the guard give him a curt nod before disappearing in an orange blast, Flash gave half a smirk to Sanguine. “I was a teaching assistant for Professor Dust Jacket’s Rebellion Period Military History class.”
Sanguine didn’t smile, or nod, or acknowledge Flash’s comment in any way. He was still facing the spot that the teleporting guard had just vacated, his furrowed brow and deep frown threatening to crack as his eyes gathered moisture at the corners. Feeling that moisture burning his own eyes like acid, Flash tried to shrink away to nothing, bumping into the guard whose armor was colder than it had any right to be.
After enduring a few moments of hearing the graying doctor’s rapid breaths hissing in his nostrils, and the occasional sniffle, Flash had to fill the air with something. Whether it was to cover up the noise of a strong stallion breaking, or to keep himself from thinking about it, Flash didn’t care.
“After the Lunar Rebellion was put down, there was a lot of debate about how the rebels should be punished. The majority of pegasus clans had sided with Nightmare Moon, but most of the individual pegasi were just rank-and-file warriors, who basically just followed orders. But the top commanders: those who had betrayed Celestia herself, those who had swayed thousands to join the rebellion… they were Grounded.
“Grounding was more than clipping the wings. A pegasus with clipped wings will eventually grow new feathers, but if you cut off the wings, there is no way the pony can ever fly again, symbolically removing any chance of redemption.
“But there was more to it. A pegasus’ wings, like a unicorn’s horn, is our connection to the magic of the world. Our wings are far too small to fly aerodynamically, and there is no physical reason that a pegasus should be able to walk on clouds, or control the weather. We ride on the leylines of the air. Tie knots in the water currents that cross the skies. Shake loose the lightning, guide the winds, and… well. You can cut off the wings and magic both.
“But a Grounding doesn’t cut the wings off entirely, at the shoulder joint above the humerus, like an amputation. No, the Grounding cuts off the wing in the middle of the bone, leaving a stub that can’t be hidden. They didn’t want a Grounded pegasus to be able to blend in with Earth ponies.
“That left just enough connection to atmospheric magic to keep a pegasus on edge. Like going half deaf, and always wondering whether you really do hear a tune.
“Only nine Groundings are recorded in history. Both the Unicorn Council and the Farmer’s Parliament argued that there should have been thousands of pegasi, every single one who fought in the Rebellion, Grounded. But Celestia insisted on clemency for all but the worst. Most scholars say that her wisdom prevented a race war and a new ice age.
“Other scholars debated whether Celestia ever wanted any Groundings at all. Some say that she allowed as many as she did only to appease the Unicorns and Earth ponies. I suppose that my case will give some grad student an impressive dissertation.”
During the history lesson, Sanguine had stumbled over to a dark wooden desk that rested in the only portion of the room that didn’t look sterile and glaringly bright. A yellow aura surrounded the entire side of the desk as he haphazardly ripped off the single walnut panel. The sides of three drawers were revealed, along with a formerly secret compartment with a glass bottle inside.
Holding up the bottle and staring into the warm brown liquid within, the surgeon snorted, shuddered, and removed the cork. Flash bit his lip as he watched the trembling unicorn take a long pull of whiskey. Sanguine set the bottle down hard on the wooden desk, sending a hollow thud echoing down the room.
“Sanguine, you’ve been dry for years. Please don’t do this to—”
“YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH, BOY!” Sanguine snapped his head around to glare at Flash, his wild mane bouncing with every angry heartbeat. “You lost any right to tell me what to do, or to try an’ make me feel guilty! Celestia knows, I may not’a been a saint, but now I know what you can do without a shred of guilt, I’ll never feel guilty again, that’s for sure.”
To the relief of the surgical staff who were pretending to be busy as far as possible from this new facet of their boss, another loud pop and blast of orange light signaled the return of the second guard, this time bearing a saddlebag. After seeing the anger on Sanguine’s face, he quickly glanced back to determine whether the prisoner was a threat, and, satisfied that no violence needed to be done, relaxed somewhat. He levitated a trio of books onto the desk, sliding them toward the middle and gently pushing the bottle of whiskey off to a rear corner.
Collapsing into his chair, Sanguine looked down at his books and waved a hoof dismissively toward the center of the room. “Strap him down while I read up and wash up. Prone, and unwrap his wings.”
Flash started walking toward the surgical table before the guards had to push him. The last time he was here, he’d needed to be lifted onto the table, and Sanguine hadn’t recognized him. To be fair, Flash had been covered in blood and ichor, and Sanguine, along with the rest of his staff, had been going on hour fourteen of surgery. While he’d been waiting his turn, the stallion next to him had bled out from a laceration the triage team had missed.
As he settled onto the icy stainless table, Flash looked to the guard on his left and asked, “Do you remember Lotus Whisper?” A puzzled look was answer enough, but the other guard spoke up.
“Yeah, we were in the same class back at basic. Good guy, I heard he bought it when the changelings hit the wedding a few years back?”
Nodding, Flash risked a look up to make eye contact when he replied. “Yeah, I was there. Can you make sure somepony checks on his mom from time to time?”
Unsure of how to reply to the healthy prisoner he was strapping to a surgical table, the guard just nodded without making eye contact.
A cart rolled up in front of Flash, loaded with an impressive array of gleaming instruments that he would rather have not noticed. Sanguine, now wearing a surgical gown, addressed the two guards in a calm and quiet voice with no hint of emotion. “Is the prisoner secure?” A few moments of telekinetic tugging on the tightly-buckled straps later, both unicorns responded affirmatively. “Then doff your armor and wash up, I’ll need your help holding him down when the saw comes out.”
Both guards performed identical salutes before trotting off to the prep area. Turning back to his patient, Sanguine explained in a monotone, “The history books specify that the procedure is to be done without anaesthesia.” He took a moment to carefully place a surgical mask over his muzzle, while Flash rolled his eyes at the amateur theatrics. “Of course, nowadays, we’re more civilized than that.” Leaning down to place his mouth just inches from Flash’s ear, Sanguine hissed, “Or at least, some of us are.”
After removing the wing wrap and sliding it out from under the prostate stallion, Sanguine then lifted up a side table from its vertically stowed position. Taking hold of the left wing, he pulled it out straight and said, “Hold your wing here. I’m injecting you with a local anaesthetic, and I’m nice enough to do that before I pluck the feathers.”
By the time the guards had returned, sans armor and in their natural coat colors, Flash’s left wing had a three-inch wide band of pink flesh halfway down the first bone, and the doctor was nearly finished with the second wing. One gray and one green unicorn stood at the foot of the table, waiting for their orders and looking nervously at the bare skin flecked with blood spots. They both winced at each audible ‘pop’ of a feather releasing its hold on a follicle.
The surgeon finished rubbing orange antiseptic on the exposed skin, heaved a sigh, and stood there, staring at Flash. Already strapped to a table, with his wings numb and tingling, he didn’t need any more help feeling uncomfortable. His eyes watered and his voice cracked as Flash pleaded, “Just chop me up already!” Almost in a whisper, he added, “And stop looking at me like I just broke your heart.”
Sanguine roughly took hold of Flash’s face in his hooves and lifted it high enough that the young pegasus had nowhere to look but in his eyes. “You did break my heart!” There was no sharp venom in his voice, only bitter disappointment. “You were all I had left, the closest thing I had to family. For once, I’m glad we don’t share a name.”
Flash bit his tongue when Sanguine Blade abruptly dropped his head back onto the table, but he didn’t care. He didn’t bother to close his eyes. He just stared straight ahead at a blank spot on the wall. The scalpel didn’t hurt as it separated his flesh, there was only a mild tugging sensation in the general area where he felt the coldness of the iodine’s solvent evaporating. He didn’t wince when he felt the blade dragging across the long, narrow bone. Flash was too numb to notice the fizzy hiss of his connective tissue peeling off of the distal end of his humerus, making room for the bone saw. What hurt was the sob that escaped the tearful surgeon’s throat as he lifted the circular bone saw off of the tray.
With a blink, Flash glanced up at Sanguine, who was now bracing himself against the rigid steel table with one hoof and covering his tear-stained muzzle with the other. The circular saw had fallen back to the cloth-covered tray where Flash could see its every detail. The blade had no teeth; it was more of an abrasive wheel, powered by magic of course. The hollow bones of a pegasus were apt to splinter if more aggressive saws or more forceful methods were used.
Planting his hooves back on the cement floor, Sanguine cleared his throat and motioned to the two guards in sterile scrubs. His voice was scratchier than usual as he said, “You’ll have to hold him down now. You, sit on his lower back, and you on his shoulders. No, turn the other way, put your hooves here. Now, use your magic to hold the wing root steady.”
There was no warning. There was no pain.
But at that level of intensity, there was no difference between the noise and the vibration. It was like a dragon scratching his claws against a chalkboard, only it was inside of Flash’s head, echoing and reverberating in the hollow of his every bone. He had become an infernal musical instrument, playing a song of torment so loud that he couldn’t hear his own screams. The grinding continued for ages, until there was no air left for him to scream. But the scream continued, fueled by the contents of his stomach, burning his throat and sinuses as he convulsed.
The grinding stopped, but the echoes continued bouncing through his skeleton, ringing his ears like alarm clocks being dragged through gravel. One wing down, only one more to go, and then he could cry himself to death in the comfort of his own dungeon cell.
“Dammit, boy, I just got started!” Shaking the slime off of one hoof and glaring at the sweating pegasus, Sanguine gruffly used his magic to lift the green unicorn guard out of the puddle of vomit where he had landed. He dropped the saw back onto the table, staining the pristine white cloth with bits of pink grit that slid off of the abrasive disc, other chunks still sticking wetly to the blade. Turning to a shining cabinet full of tiny glass bottles, Sanguine grumbled to himself as he opened the transparent door.
Flash turned his head the other way and halfheartedly tried to spit the taste of bile out of his mouth. He listened to the thinly splashing hoofsteps approaching his side, and waited for the needle’s jab.
As he closed his eyes, Flash felt the slowly spreading warmth relax his muscles, and he waited for the sensation to reach his head. Soon, he would wake up, and the pain and grinding would be over.
However, when the narcotic reached his brain, he did not go to sleep. Instead, he was wrapped in a blurry and suffocating warmth. He was being baked inside of a pie, full of marshmallows, each one swelling with the heat and pressing in on him from all sides. The fluffy white confections filled him with a permeating sweetness, cloying and slimy on the back of his throat. Flash was aware of his tiny body, wrapped inside of a normal-sized pie; but he was also a giant with tremendous rubbery limbs, about to take a bite out of a pony-sized pie. His bones shuddered and rattled with the timbre of a thunderous laugh as Pinkie held the pastry up to her mouth.
As she bit down, his wing and his world shattered. There was no more air in the room, or anywhere in the world. No wind, no rain, no clouds, no thunder. Flash felt his weight double as he began sinking through the steel table toward the ground, but the earth rejected him, leaving the wingless pegasus floating a few inches above the floor while a dozen spiders tugged at the edges of his bleeding stubs.
______________________________________________
The haze receded like a tide, leaving Flash moist and salty on a barren gravel beach, or so he imagined until he opened his eyes. The white cushion beneath his body was lumpy and hard, in sharp contrast to any other surface upon which he had ever happened to rest. Even actual gravel had never dug into his body this harshly. Of course, he had never weighed this much before, either. Was this why Earth ponies were so fond of soft beds and sitting cushions?
Lifting his heavy head, Flash gave his eyes a moment to get themselves both pointed in the same direction. When the two doctors had mostly coalesced into one, they spoke. “I can’t give you a traditional cloth bandage, so the surgical glue will have to do. It should wear off in a few days. The stitches will fall out on their own. The antibiotic shot I gave you should prevent any infection. If it doesn’t, I’ll never find out.”
Sanguine Blade immediately turned around and walked away, stumbling once and bumping into a tray of medical waste. A single orange feather fell off of the tray, slicing downward through the air and curving upwards at the last moment to glide along the ground until it finally slid underneath a cabinet that was mounted to the wall. Flash giggled, wondering if it would remain under there forever, a forgotten memento of his visit.
The unicorn guards had donned their brass armor again, returning them to their magically-identical white coats. They were accompanied by an unarmored Earth pony in a gray warden’s uniform, who watched the surgeon leave before turning to frown at the empty bottle that scattered and reflected the sterile blue light like a malignant sapphire. Sighing, he looked at Flash through weary half-lidded eyes, and asked, “Can you move your legs?”
Flash blushed and grinned, his head weaving in time to the kettledrum in his ears. “Are you asking me to dance?”
Rolling his eyes and sighing again, the warden shot a sidelong glance at the guards. “Get him up, we’ve got to take him all the way to the end of the long hallway.”
The walk was indeed long, and although the guards had to use their magic to help hold him up at the beginning, Flash had metabolized enough of the painkiller to at least shuffle along by the time they had reached the dungeon itself. Three of the ponies were silent, and one was gregarious and bubbly, largely incoherent, and quite philosophical.
The dungeon had been built for the prisoners of the Lunar Rebellion, and today was nearly empty, housing only the very few violent criminals, and the occasional recalcitrant thief who refused to be reformed by the metaphorical magic of friendship. The larger barracks which had once been a temporary home to the hundreds of non-fanatical soldiers who needed only minor rehabilitation before reintegrating into peaceful society, were now dry storage warehouses, protecting Canterlot against famine or siege. The kitchen and mess hall must have passed by as well, though Flash failed to notice them.
Cell blocks on the left were carved into the solid face of the Canterhorn, while the wall on the right was built of giant blocks of the same stone, with large slits to allow ambient daylight to illuminate the interior. The castle was directly above them, almost all of its visitors blissfully unaware of the prison integrated into its foundation.
They descended several sets of stairs as they progressed around the circumference of the mountain, and finally approached a dead end. However, as they neared the smooth back wall, Flash saw that the corridor in fact took a ninety-degree left turn, proceeding straight into the solid stone.
The August sunlight rolled almost straight down the eight-foot-wide hallway, stretching each stallion into a long shadow that blended into the darkness which shrouded their destination. They walked for a long time, every dozen steps taking them past a bundle of steel pipes jutting straight up out of a concrete-filled trench that ran along one edge of the otherwise-unbroken solid stone tunnel.
As they progressed, Flash’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he was able to see a wall of cinder blocks capping the end of the long hallway. A heavy steel door stood open, a foreboding invitation yawning hungrily for its new resident. Flash giggled, then pointed a hoof forward and said, “Lookit the sleepy wall.”
The door slammed closed with a deafening thump, pouring darkness over the inside of the room. The intoxicated pegasus hadn’t realized that he had already walked inside the room. After a few moments, light entered the room through a narrow gap at the bottom of the door, about two inches high, as his escorts walked away and took their shadows with them.
His half spin was enough to make him dizzy, so Flash stood still while examining his new home. The walls, floor, ceiling, and even the door were all painted in a uniform shade of chocolate brown. The door itself was set flush into the cinder block front wall, and judging by the sound it made when he gave it an experimental kick, it was solid iron, rather than a typical door made of plates sandwiching a locking mechanism inside. The top third of the door was louvered, letting in ambient light without allowing a view outside the cell.
Turning to his left, slowly so as not to become dizzy again, Flash looked to the wall and appreciated that there was a modern, though spartan, toilet and sink, both of brushed stainless steel. The rear wall was flat and featureless, but there was a sturdy bunk hanging from two chains on the last wall. A single brown blanket was folded on the uncushioned wooden planks.
The light grew brighter and warmer in color as sunset approached. Flash grinned and nodded appreciatively, as if he had just finished constructing himself a cozy house in the wild. “This place is pretty… fuzzy.” He looked down at his hooves and reeled from the immense height, then giggled. “I’m pretty fuzzy!”
The echoes of his cackles only caused him to laugh even more. A sudden feeling in his stomach, like the sharp drop of an airship running into an unexpected downdraft on the trailing edge of a thunderhead, made him quiet for a moment, still breathing heavily and struggling to control his giggles. It felt like he had swallowed a cannonball, pulling down inside his gut like one of the cast iron two-inch shells.
The cannonball cracked horizontally, splitting into a shiny white grin, jagged and blind.
Most ponies didn’t know this, but the harder alloys of cast iron are actually white; the black coating usually associated with cast iron is only a protective layer of oxidation on the surface. Flash knew that the inside of a cannonball would be white, because he minored in metallurgy at the academy. Looking down at his tummy and viewing his upside-down cell from between his legs, Flash began drawing an iron/carbon phase diagram in his head, murmuring a humorous little ditty about the various crystal structures that formed in the cooling melt.
His mnemonic song was interrupted by the cannonball whispering, “You’ll never laugh again.”
The breath knocked out of him, Flash melted to the floor and tried desperately to inhale.
“Here. Drink this. Ungh, and try to be quiet about it.”
Flash opened his eyes slowly, and regretted it quickly. He’d only ever had a hangover once before, and that was only because it had been his first time drinking, so he didn’t know when to stop, or that he should drink water to ease the effects of dehydration. As much as he could manage to think, it made sense that the narcotic shot he’d been given would cause a hangover when it wore off, too. But that was the only thing that made sense.
The living room was rushing in and out of his brain through his eyeballs with every heartbeat. As quietly as Twilight Velvet was trying to move, her hooves dragged thunderously across the short carpet between the painfully orange couch and the coffee table where she had set down a glass of greenish-brown liquid. Despite the drapes being fully closed, an offensive amount of light was seeping around their edges and rebounding off of Velvet’s white coat, photonic knives stabbing directly into Flash’s eyes.
As the younger Twilight slept on the couch, the the elder shuffled past, the sun’s rays reflecting off of her coat brightly enough to penetrate fluttering lavender eyelids. Raising her chin off of the couch and rubbing her eyes, Twilight Sparkle yawned and smacked her mouth a few times before announcing, “Good morning!” entirely too loudly.
This cheery greeting was met by a chorus of groans from everypony in the room who did not share an alicorn’s metabolism and regenerative ability. Night Light and Twilight Velvet felt far too old to have been drinking as much as they did last night, and Flash Sentry felt far too have been drinking as much as he did to be as too old as he wasn’t. Flash wasn’t sure that made sense, but he was sure that it made more sense than the fact that he was somehow in the Lights’ living room instead of his dungeon cell.
While his muddled mind was slowly grinding its way toward putting his hazy recollections into any shape that made sense, he absentmindedly nibbled on an itch that appeared on his left wing. A wing which was whole, and covered in an appropriate quantity of feathers. His face froze with his lips wrapped around the feathery joint and his eyebrows locked in a wrestling match with each other.
Flash spit out his wing, licked his lips, and practiced extending both of his wings, flexing the lean appendages with a look of wonderment on his face. Night Light batted the feathers away from his ticklish nose, making some grunting noises that he probably had intended to be words.
With a deep breath, Flash leaned back and asked, very quietly and to noone in particular, “How did I get here?”
Velvet, who had climbed back into her chair and was now reclining with a wet washcloth on her forehead, spoke into the dark room from underneath her sunglasses. “When two ponies love each other very much, they—”
Night snorted a reluctant laugh, winced, and then whined, “Hun, please don’t make me laugh.” Opening his eyes and squinting at the perplexed pegasus, he said, “Drink your, uh, thing. It’ll clear things up.” Night motioned toward the glass of watery green slime that matched the half-empty one he was holding.
Eyeing the drink suspiciously, Flash poked the glass with a hoof. The disturbed surface wobbled in slow motion, miniature rainbows chasing ripples around the oil slick on top. The nausea that had been hiding beneath his headache suddenly began boiling to the top of his consciousness. Curling his upper lip and raising one eyebrow, Flash asked, “What… is it?”
Velvet gulped down a sip of her own glass, then grimaced and said hoarsely, “I never invented a name for it. It’s a mixture of eggs, spinach, strong coffee, and salt. And other stuff. It’s—” Velvet held a hoof over her muzzle, covering what Flash hoped was a burp, then continued, “delicious. You really will feel better, and you’ve got that meeting with Princess Celestia before lunch. That’s, like, an hour.”
Flash blinked repeatedly. Each time his eyes opened made his world and his smile a bit brighter. Despite the constant war his heartbeat was waging on his ears, the grudge his stomach was holding against the world, and the beverage that may have been moving on its own, Flash was happy. He would be happier without the hangover, though.
To that end, he decided to brave the unnamed smoothie. Quickly.
That and a cold shower later, Flash wasn’t feeling too bad. Gliding down the stairs, he noticed that Night and Velvet were mostly functional, and engaged in conversation. After alighting upon the couch and curling up with a smile, Flash squirmed until he had sunken deep into the soft, old cushions.
Seeing the blatant good mood plastered all over Flash’s face, Night said, “Well, somepony is chipper! As nervous as you were last night, I thought you’d be chewing your hooves off by now.”
“I am actually not nervous at all!” Flash announced, holding his head a bit higher off of the cushion.
“That’s great. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“Well, Celestia could chop off my wings and stick me in a prison cell to be forgotten, while telling everypony that I’m a horrible criminal,” Flash stated matter-of-factly.
Night and Velvet had both dropped their jaws, and their eyebrows were shifting constantly between horror and confusion. Velvet found her voice first. “Umm, that’s, uh. I guess, that would be the worst thing imaginable. Wouldn’t it?”
Princess Twilight Sparkle cleared her throat as she stood at the end of the hallway with her mane still damp, poking a twisted corner of a towel into one ear. “Flash has always had quite the vivid imagination. If you tell him to imagine the worst possible case, he really, really” —Twilight narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice to a growl— “really does.”
As she sat down next to him and threw the towel over his face, Twilight rolled her eyes and said, “Which is why Shining will never again tell him to ‘hope for the best but prepare for the worst.’”
Flash halfway lifted the towel off of his face with a wing and said, “Hey, Spike LOVED that zombie fortress!”
“A post-apocalyptic fortress does not belong in the middle of an Empire ruled by love and—”
Night, still looking like he had witnessed Flash murder a whole lake full of baby ducklings, interrupted Twilight. “Princess Celestia would never do that. It’s not within her character. What could possibly make you even think that she would ever do something so horrific?”
Raising one hoof as if he was in a class, Flash hesitantly spoke up. “Uh, actually, she did do that, to nine ponies, right after the Lunar Rebellion.”
Twilight perked up at that, because she loved a chance to correct anypony. “Actually actually, most historians believe that Princess Celestia didn’t want to have any Groundings at all. But she believed that the Earth ponies and unicorns would rebel and start a race war if she didn’t allow a very few.”
Flash rolled his eyes, chuckling at the familiarity of that statement. It wasn’t the first time that Twilight told him something that he knew already — or something that she had learned from him in the first place — and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.
“Still, though,” Night insisted, “why would you even think of that?”
Flash chewed on the inside of his cheek, pondering how much to reveal. “I… I had a nightmare last night. I guess you could call it an alcohol-fuelled manifestation of my worst fears. But I see how ridiculous that was.” He smiled at his new family, who returned thrice the warmth. “Thank you all so much. I can’t imagine how I went through life before I had all of you to lean on.”
Velvet leaned over the arm of her chair to rest her head on Night’s shoulder. Lifting his foreleg so she could pass hers underneath, Night kissed her on the forehead. Velvet sighed, and glanced up at the clock above the fireplace. “We love you too, Flashy, but you’d better get out of here before you’re late for your meeting with the princess.” She chuckled, adding, “And the other princess.”
As Twilight led the way to the front door, Night said, “Flash, it’s good to see you getting your confidence back. Don’t be afraid to have a conversation with Princess Celestia. Just dive right in!”
Twilight gave a lopsided grin and raised one eyebrow as she grasped the door in her purple magic. “Dive in, huh?” Flinging the door open wide, Twilight leapt into the flood of brilliant daylight, bellowing, “CANNONBALL!”
Flash chuckled, rolling his eyes as he trotted out the door, spreading his wings to take off after his princess. But when his eyes had adjusted to the light, she was not soaring through the skies of Canterlot. As far as Flash could tell, she wasn’t there at all. But that was not what had stopped his heart.
The skies of Canterlot were not blue.
Not entirely, anyway. There was a stripe of pastel blue, but also stripes of pink, pale lavender, and aquamarine, slowly waving like a flag.
Her flag.
Yanking his gaze back to ground level, Flash saw that all the buildings of Canterlot had become a uniform chocolate brown, with no windows or doors. When he turned to run back into the safety of the comfortable living room, Flash saw Twilight. A purple unicorn, too-long bangs covering her entire face, stood in front of where the door should have been.
Upon trying to extend his wings, Flash yelped in pain as the bone’s rough tip pushed against the stitches where the flesh had been pulled together over the ends of his stubs. His breath gone, the wingless pegasus sank to the cold, brown floor as the cityscape closed in and congealed into a solid wall around him.
Flash wondered when he had opened his eyes. The morning light was dragging itself under his cell door, its diffuse puddle beginning to lap at his muzzle where it lay on the floor. Standing and stretching his fatigued muscles, Flash winced as pins and needles started washing away the numbness in his legs.
Gingerly shaking each hoof as he lifted it, Flash agonizingly made his way to the little sink. A single pedal on the floor indicated that there was no option for hot water. Unsurprised, he pushed down on the pedal and sighed at the weak dribble of water that fell from the faucet. Putting more weight on his tingling leg, the trickle improved a bit. It was just enough water that he could believe it was possible to wash the drool, vomit, and tears off of his face.
Without a cup or a dish, washing was a frustrating and time-consuming ordeal. Flash briefly wondered whether it was a good thing there was so little water, because bathing would be a full-time job that might keep him busy. Night watch in a guard shack could be boring enough, but a lifetime in this cell would probably drive him crazy. Then again, crazy might be good, if he could be insane enough to ignore his situation.
Flash snapped to his senses, realizing that he’d been wasting water while deep in thought, and lifted his hoof to shut off the flow. Upon further thought, Flash realized that he was not paying the water bill.
He vindictively stomped on the shiny pedal, listening to the soft hiss in the pipes and the quiet splashing of the stream impacting the bottom of the steel basin. Yes, if he spent all day standing on this pedal, he could really stick it to Celestia. She would see her water bill skyrocket, but by how much?
The stream of water pulsed and sputtered as Flash squinted at the dribbling faucet, while he estimated the flow rate, recalled the water price on his last billing statement, and did a quick calculation. If he left the water running all day and night, even sleeping on the pedal, then Celestia would spend almost three bits in a year to pay for Flash’s extravagant water use.
Flash heaved a dramatic sigh, then turned and walked three steps to his ‘bed.’ Stopping himself just before he rolled onto his back, he instead climbed onto the shelf and lay on his stomach, resting his chin on the folded blanket. Planning his career as a vengeful mastermind had occupied almost five minutes of his time.
It was very quiet, this deep in the rock. There were no soft bits of conversation drifting down the halls, no patter of raindrops landing on the roof, no appliances or ventilation system whirring a symphony of white noise. There was only a literal mountain of stone surrounding him on all sides, silently doing absolutely nothing.
Needing to hear something, but deciding that he wasn’t crazy enough to start talking to himself just yet, Flash got up and began pacing in the little room. His dark-adjusted eyes scanned the room for any details he’d missed. Only smooth, painted stone fell under his scrutiny, though he noticed a seam running under the paint for the entire length of the cell’s floor. The plumbing disappeared into the floor on the other side of the seam, which was where the mountain’s stone met the concrete that covered the pipes.
Upon directing his attention toward the door, he noticed that the brown paint had darkened and even bubbled in a few places around the edges, as if it had been burned. Of course, it was a solid door with no locking mechanism, so it had been welded shut. Despite the fanciful stories of high-class pegasus jewel thieves who used their own feathers to pick locks, Flash doubted the necessity of a solid, welded door. Even the strongest Earth pony could not have bucked a standard prison door off its hinges.
Flash bucked the door anyway, turning around and kicking it with all the savagery he could muster. He only managed three kicks before he realized how weary he really was. And hungry. The last meal he’d eaten was about twenty-four hours ago, and he had spewed that all over Sanguine’s surgical gown.
The feeling of tiredness was a welcome one, and Flash hoped that he would be able to get some actual rest since all of his first night was spent in more hallucination than slumber. But upon closing his eyes there was no sleep, there was only a big pile of memories, slithering over each other like snakes, each one writhing and twisting as Flash tried to make sense of them. Most of his memories that were worth keeping were memories of or about Twilight.
And as each memory came to the surface, Flash saw Twilight’s every word and action through a lens of hindsight, full of new meaning and hints foreshadowing her future infidelity. Clenching his eyelids closed as hard as he could, Flash realized just how stupid he had been to build his entire life around one mare. He’d had a good career before he met Twilight, but only because he’d had nothing else worth investing his time and effort into, nothing that had ever mattered, not until he’d bumped into a beauti—
Skrrrrrrrkkkk
Opening his eyes and sitting up, Flash quickly wiped the tears off of his cheeks as if somepony might see him crying. Had he imagined the noise? As tiny as the room was, it only took him a moment to look around and notice the shallow metal dish that had slid underneath his door.
Flash eagerly jumped off the bed, and landed sideways, rolling onto his side and pinching his wing stub against the stone floor. His wings no longer helped to stabilize him, even in such tiny trajectories as bed-to-floor. He ignored the pain as he pushed himself mostly upright, and slid the plate away from the door, pressing his face down as low against the ground as it would go, trying to see the pony who had delivered his meal.
However, the slit was too low to the ground for Flash to see more than a few inches into the hallway. And there were no hoofsteps echoing his way, either. Hollering his thanks to the unseen deliverer of sustenance, Flash turned back to his dish.
The hungry stallion lifted the round silvery bowl carefully onto his bed/table, then examined the substance within. It was cold, pale gray, slightly translucent, and some disturbing combination of runny and jiggly. Experimentally sticking his tongue into the goop, Flash decided that it was rice, simmered until the grains had nearly dissolved into the excess liquid. Something like a halfhearted risotto.
Flash hated risotto. It was nothing more than an attempt to sell gruel to rich ponies, some sort of a retaliatory conspiracy by the starving-artist school of culinary thought. At least since Flash was a prisoner, serving him gruel was appropriate, and he wasn’t paying fancy-restaurant prices for it. In fact, he was less offended at this meal than he had been the time he had discovered what risotto was when he’d ordered it at the Bitalian place in Cloudsdale.
Licking the shallow plate clean, Flash noted that the metal had about as much flavor as the gruel did. The simple calories were as devoid of nutrients as they were of taste. The warden would eventually have to provide him with some fresh vegetables if he didn’t want Flash to die of some horrible vitamin deficiency. As he wondered if there would be another meal for dinner, he glanced back down to the floor, noticing something else casting a long but tiny shadow.
He hadn’t developed the dexterity to pick up the tiny item with his hooves. Feathers for pegasi, and magic for unicorns; only Earth ponies usually bothered to get that precise with their blunt forelegs. So Flash stuck his face down to the floor and immediately realized that he wouldn’t be getting any fresh vegetables. Or flavor. Ever.
Pinching the vitamin pill between his lips, Flash put some water into his plate before washing the pill down his throat. Setting the dish down on the tiny sink, he turned back to his little brown room, and wondered what he was going to do.
Flash was certain that the look on Shining Armor’s face must run in his family. It really must be difficult, being so much smarter than everypony else, to such a degree that the most confusing thing in one’s life is the inability to understand how everypony else could fail to understand such obvious things.
As Shining stepped onto a crystal balcony overlooking the city, Flash Sentry hovered in front of his boss, blocking his view of the sunrise. The prince leaned from side to side, trying to catch the sun’s orange light scattering through the azure mountains of ancient compacted snow. Flash crossed his forelimbs across his chest and said, “I spent a whole week coming up with the perfect first date. What’s wrong with it?” He was definitely not pouting.
Shining stopped trying to get a peek at the horizon and relaxed, shifting his attention to the floating pegasus. He levitated his coffee cup to his mouth, but did not take a sip. Lowering the cup again, he asked, “Flash, what was your first assignment after you enlisted? Did you go on a special forces mission behind enemy lines?”
Flash smirked like he’d just gotten the easy question on a pop quiz. “We don’t have any standing enemies. There hasn’t even been a war in almost a hundred years.”
“It’s a metaphor. You’re trying to go too big, too grand. Are you catching what I’m throwing out there? Start with something simple.” Shining slurped his coffee with a great deal more noise than was necessary. Another family trait.
Flash dropped to the ground. “I think maybe I should be insulted. I’ve been on dates before. I think I can handle a” —Flash crossed his eyes and made air quotes with his wings— “‘special forces mission’ of a date.”
Another one of those family looks. Shining was about to explain just exactly what it was that was so obvious. “I know you’ve been on dates before… but Twily hasn’t.”
Flash opened his mouth for a reply, one hoof in the air. His eyebrows slowly came together, and so did his lips, until both were clenched. It was obvious. “Wait. So I am the special forces mission… which means that Twilight just isn’t ready to handle this much stallion!”
Shining narrowed his eyes and glared at the pegasus guard through the vapor rising from his coffee. “Oh, you’re about to be ‘speshul forces’ alright.” A growing grin on his face only served to make his glowing eyes seem more evil behind the curtain of steam. “I’ll have you licking windows clean on the kindergarten wagon if you keep talking like that.”
Instantly lightening up, Shining punched Flash in the shoulder, then turned around and threw one last glance toward the sunrise he’d missed as he said, “Seriously though, the complicated fancy date you planned is too much for somepony as inexperienced as Twilight. If you try to take her on a date like that, she’ll freak. You know how she is under pressure.”
“Uhhhh, actually, no. I don’t know. I’ve only seen Twilight like three or four times. Once, she didn’t even notice me.” Flash ambled alongside Shining as they made their way down a glittering and translucent hallway. As they walked, Flash stared into the ghostly images looking up at him from the sparkling crystal floor. “I don’t really know anything about her except the stories you’ve told me. That and the way she smiles and blushes when—”
“Hey hey hey, write it down, loverboy.” Shining waved a hoof between them in an attempt to ward off the romantic notions that were drifting aimlessly without their intended target to home in on. “I don’t need to hear that mushy stuff. You can write her a letter, later. You know how much she loves to read.” He froze mid-step, and turned his head to squint at Flash with one eyebrow raised. “You do know she loves to read… right?”
Flash laughed, shaking his head. “I think everypony knows that, even if they’re dense enough to miss the fact that she’s a princess. Our one and only conversation was about books. Which reminds me, I need to buy a couple of books that I may have claimed to have in my library that I don’t quite technically have, just yet.”
Twilight’s big brother slid a frown over to the side of his face, regarded Flash for a tense moment, then turned forward again and resumed his walk, stating, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” He shot one more sidelong glance to reinforce his displeasure at the deception, then asked, “Where were we?”
“Ummm… how she handles pressure, like, say, the pressure of a big date? Hasn’t she saved the world...” Flash counted up on his feathers, mumbling, “carry the one… I dunno, a BUNCH of times?”
“Yes, but that’s her element.” Shining stumbled into a full stop, screwing his lips into a half-grin and crossing his eyes. “Hey, I guess I mean that literally, too. Heh.” Shaking his head to clear the linguistic confusion, he resumed walking. “The point is, my sister’s never been nervous about the big stuff. Well, except when she was saving the entire Crystal Empire, but she was only nervous because she thought it was one of Princess Celestia’s tests. She’d do anything for Celestia.”
Almost getting a sip of coffee in before completing his thought, Shining said, “Well, except risk an entire empire falling into slavery. She was willing to fail Celestia to protect others, and I think that says a lot about who she is.”
Flash nodded, but looked unsure. “It says… that she thinks something is a test, even when it’s not, and it makes her unnecessarily nervous?”
Shining paused, pretended to make a deeply thoughtful face, then punched Flash in the shoulder. “You’re a jerk.” He then proceeded into his morning briefing, leaving the sore pegasus in the hallway.
As Flash sat outside the doorway absentmindedly rubbing his not-really injury, Shining poked his head around the corner sideways and said, “Also, you’re totally right.” He disappeared again, leaving Flash feeling somewhat vindicated.
Before he could feel too smug, however, Flash was surprised to see Shining pop around the corner again, speaking in a low voice, “But don’t ever tell her that.”
As he returned to the barracks to prepare for his shift, Flash wondered what kind of date would be low-pressure. Something that wouldn’t intimidate a perfectly capable adult who was nonetheless terrified of failure. Lunch? Or was lunch not date-y enough?
The mostly-ornamental armor was heavy as Flash lifted it above himself, and he had to twist his neck to fit his head through the hole between the shoulder plates. With his head turned, Flash noticed his forgotten cup of coffee — with just a dash of milk — that had been left behind when he’d started walking with Shining Armor. The coffee’s surface was cold and still, a smooth brown mirror. It had to have been carved magically, which was the only reasonable way to make a tunnel through solid stone anyway. Flash found it remarkable that after almost a thousand years, not a single crack had formed in the rock, anywhere. There was no sign of the of the water that should be seeping through the, well, whatever kind of rock this was.
Flash reminded himself that he would have to ask Pinkie Pie what type of stone the mountain was made of, and whether it was permeable to water. He had a whole list of things that he was going to do if never.
He had been lying on his back for hours, staring upward at the featureless rectangle. Back in officer school, candidates had been subjected to various interrogation and torture methods, including sensory deprivation. With no significant input to the senses, the brain tried to interpret the miniscule variations in brightness and color, loudness and pitch; the meaningless white noise of sound and light which grows louder the longer one is deprived of anything meaningful.
Flash’s hallucinations usually took the form of memories, played out on the chocolate screen like a motion picture. A skilled captor could manipulate the mental state of a subject to draw out the information they needed. Sleep deprivation was a standard part of interrogations, because it made the hallucinations more intense.
He hadn’t slept since arriving in his cell. Not really, not a restful sleep. As soon as he drifted off, he would begin dreaming, only not dreaming. It was nothing but nightmares, and there was never a night in them. Never a cloud. Only the full daylight, but never the sun. The sky was always a sparkling pastel rainbow, her mane, waving at him and laughing. She wouldn’t let him see the sun, not even in his dreams. Whether that was malignance on Celestia’s part or simply psychological trauma on his own part, Flash didn’t know.
When the darkness came, he closed his eyes anyway. No sense letting them dry out.
Darkness had come and gone seventy-something times, maybe seventy-three? It was hard to tell, as some of the nightmares seemed to last for days, and the featureless days seemed to last for weeks. The setting sun no longer shone directly down his hallway, and the days had only been getting darker as autumn faded into winter.
At first, he had tried to keep some sort of routine: jogging in place for cardio, and doing some isometric exercises to keep a little muscle tone. All the things a good soldier was supposed to do to keep mind and body strong, occupy time, and be ready for escape. Flash had already given up on all that, not so much out of despair as simple fatigue.
On the third day of his sentence, he’d heard a wet plop just outside of his door. He had dropped to the ground in front of the door in time to see the day’s only meal spreading out into a shallow puddle in the hallway.
Even though he hadn’t missed a meal since that day, dutifully sliding his dish under the door each morning, the hunger remained. There were enough calories to keep him alive, but not enough to allow him to exert himself or attempt any kind of escape.
As omnipresent as his appetite was, Flash knew that he would eventually adapt to the restricted caloric intake. More disconcerting was the feeling that tickled the edges of his consciousness, like a whisper that moved the hairs in his ear but registered no noise. There wasn’t much atmosphere around Flash, at most a few feet of air on each side of him, but to his diminished magical senses it seemed to be even less. Standing in the middle of the room, he felt as if his wingtips were constantly brushing against the walls, leaving him no room to turn around.
One time, he had fainted after a bout of hyperventilation brought on by, he reasoned, a combination of hunger, exhaustion, and his newfound claustrophobia. Unfortunately, the dreams haunted him even in what he had hoped would have been a blissfully unaware dreamlessness. Since then, he had been trying to avoid exerting himself, to minimize his need for sleep and chances of fainting.
From down on the floor, his room looked bigger. The uncushioned wooden shelf he called a bed did little besides make the ceiling three feet closer, so he spent most of the day with his back to the cold stone floor, looking up at the blank canvas in front of him and drinking in the silence.
The ringing nothingness surged with his heartbeat, a train’s song rhythmically surging with the seams where the track had been joined together. He glanced down at the saddlebag on the unoccupied seat to his right and sighed at the flimsy fabric and limited space it afforded. The sturdy canvas ruck he preferred was sitting back in the barracks.
An undercover recon operation needed to be subtle. No flashy armor, no blue-and-gold Crystal Empire insignia. Plausible deniability on every level, should he be discovered. It was a simple mission: ingress, make contact with the informant, scout the target location, and egress without detection.
And in the meantime, Flash got to enjoy a long and boring train ride with only three sleeping ponies for company. In the absence of a big sporting event or one of the festivals that drew crowds from around the world, the overnight trains to and from the Crystal Empire were nearly empty.
Even though the mission was so simple, Flash was too nervous to sleep in the gently rocking car, with its soft cushions and dim lights that had already lulled everypony else into a peaceful slumber. Simple didn’t mean easy, or unimportant. He had to meet Fluttershy at the train station and find a suitable location for a potential lunch date with Twilight, which would then occur after days of careful planning.
Terrifying.
Twilight wasn’t just any normal mare. She was a princess. But more than that, she was a brilliant bibliophile, and a dozen other fancy words that Flash had memorized in case he had occasion to compliment her. Even though he didn’t know her very well yet, his crush seemed like more than a crush.
But didn’t a crush always seem like more? Wasn’t that how crushes worked? Maybe it had to do with the fact that both Twilight’s big brother and her old foalsitter thought that she and Flash would make a good couple. What was the use of having friends if their opinions weren’t important in your life?
As Flash philosophized about the nature and origins of his growing affection for the Librarian Princess, the stars slowly snuck out of existence, one by one. The encroaching dawnlight began to reveal a landscape very different from the ghostly white plains he had left under the moonlight of the Empire.
The train would arrive in Ponyville in about half an hour, so it was time for him to eat his breakfast. Fluttershy would probably try to feed him, and he didn’t want his growling stomach betraying him as he was declining a meal of bird seed or rabbit food. He’d heard stories.
So reaching into his bag, Flash searched for his pouch of toasted almond bread and his bottle of milk. The dried biscuits had been a staple of armies for millennia; the lack of moisture kept any mold from growing, and the nuts and sugar provided enough energy to keep a pony marching. It could also be broken up and boiled with local vegetables and greens to make a satisfyingly thick stew. Flash preferred to dip the little slices into milk, even though the other stallions in the Guard said it made him look like a kindergarten colt enjoying a snack. Grinning, Flash wondered what they’d think if they knew that’s why he did that in the first place.
Instead of finding bland marching rations, Flash was surprised to lift a carefully-wrapped paper package up to meet his gaze. It was obviously a sandwich, in white waxed paper, the pointed tips folded together on the front and taped closed with a note.
Good luck Flash! We believe in you! — Shining & ‘Dance
Flash rolled his eyes. The bubbly, swooping letters made it obvious that Cadance had written the note. As he unwrapped the sandwich, he wondered how they had known he was going on his little secret mission — the one they had told him not to take.
They had told him to just wait for the date itself. A simple ‘plan’ was best, they had insisted. Not much of a plan, just kinda show up like it’s normal to ride a train for eight hours and then casually ask if she would like to have lunch.
‘Just keep it low-pressure,’ they had said. ‘That way, it’s no big deal if she’s already got lunch plans. Or if you can’t find a place to eat lunch. Or if the place is too expensive and you didn’t bring enough bits, or...’
Right as he was about to take a bite, Flash froze, his pupils shrinking away from his ever-widening eyes. His mouth open wide and the sandwich mere inches away, his body was forgotten as his brain flew in paths as twisting as a pegasus flag race. “They… they manipulated me!”
Flash felt offended as he looked down at his favorite sandwich ever. Butter-toasted sourdough bread, fresh creamy daisies, and crispy fried onions with a spicy horseradish spread, complete with a big, thick chunk of sharp yellow cheese. Cadance had even included a pickle on the side. Leaving the sandwich so close to his mouth was making him drool, so he took a big, angry bite.
After Shining had convinced Flash to abandon his spectacular first date in favor of something low-key that wouldn’t scare Twilight, Cadance had helped him come up with something feasible. In fact, Cadance had told him to just show up and ask her to lunch. Which was what he had been planning to do anyway. Then she had proceeded to tell him not to worry about a bunch of stuff that he never would have worried about, or even thought about, if she hadn’t mentioned in the first place. She and Shining had both told him not to go on this scouting trip.
And then he mysteriously got a Thursday off this week’s duty rotation.
He never would have bothered to create a plan for something this simple, but the matchmaking duo had tricked him into overplanning, just like Twilight was reputed to do. This was some sort of conspiracy he’d become wrapped up in. He usually fell asleep if he tried to watch a movie with more intrigue than action, and he never did figure out the twists and betrayals in some of those headache-inducing plots. His head really hurt. And his mouth was dry.
When he tried to reach for the milk in his saddlebag, he blinked, then focused on the silver hoof pedal on the left end of the horizontal pipe that dominated his vision. Flash turned his head to face the ceiling again, then wiped the drool off of the left side of his face, and realized why his mouth was dry. He rolled onto his side and pushed his body up to a standing position, and finally took a drink from his own personal water fountain.
That did bring up a big question. How had Cadance known what his favorite sandwich was? And why would a princess be making a sandwich for one of her guards, even if she knew what kind of sandwich he liked?
Upon further thought, Flash realized that he had once made sandwiches for the stallions’ weekly card game night. They talked about food a lot. And mares.
While he was still standing on the hoof pedal and letting the water go down the drain, Flash came to the realization that Shining Armor had been gathering information about potential romances within the Crystal Guard, and certainly relaying that information to his matchmaking wife. That must have been why Shining had set up the weekly gatherings, and why he always brought the cider. Cadance really took her special talent seriously.
As he flopped back down to the floor, Flash thought it was odd that Cadance would make a sandwich. She wasn’t exactly the homemaker type. She could manage macaroni-and-cheese easily enough, but freshly-grated horseradish? Sourdough toasted on a cast iron skillet? She wouldn’t use royal chefs for one of her special projects. More than that, this sandwich had been made with attention to detail and a certain personal flair.
It was a flair that Flash recognized. A stallion who was just as comfortable and deft with a blade whether he was on the battlefield or in the kitchen. Shining Armor had made his sandwich. That revelation made him vaguely uncomfortable, yet appreciative, but it did not stop him from enjoying the sandwich as he chewed the last bite. The empty paper wrapper crinkled in his hooves. Flash looked down at the wrapper, and realized that he hadn’t really tasted the sandwich, as lost in retrospection as he had been. Still, it was the thought that counted, and Shining must have thought, ‘I’ll make my bro a sandwich. Bros love sandwiches.’
Flash grinned as he imagined Shining saying that line while standing in front of a stove, levitating a spatula and wearing a pink frilly apron emblazoned with hearts.
Eating a pickle for breakfast would be strange, so Flash re-packed the pickle in the sandwich wrapper, smiled at the note, and looked up in time to see the train station sliding up to his window. Effortlessly flipping his saddle bag onto his back with one wing, he trotted off of the train, looking for the pegasus who was supposed to give him a tour of the town.
Shining had said that Fluttershy was, as her name implied, shy. Flash wondered whether she had chosen to change her name at her Cutecenara, or if her parents were prescient enough to choose an apt name in the first place. The origin of his own name was enough to make Flash blush. He recalled finally seeing the cheesy film whose titular hero was a hoofball star who had been abducted by a mad scientist. They had flown to space in an attempt to save the universe from a merciless galactic dictator. He’d have to make sure Twilight never found out who his mother had named him after.
A few minutes later, the crowd on the station platform had dispersed enough that Flash could see the pastel yellow coat and surprisingly elegant pink mane, half-hiding behind a map of train routes. Although he’d met her before, about the same time he had bumped into Twilight, he didn’t remember Fluttershy very well. There had been something else on his mind at the time, something purple and cute and blushing and deceptively clever.
So when Flash had been told he was looking for Twilight’s animal caretaker friend, he had imagined somepony covered in twigs and leaves, with mice building nests in her filthy and unkempt mane. Somepony like the brown wizard from that giant fantasy trilogy. He’d have to work that into conversation with Twilight, she’d appreciate the reference.
“Hello, Fluttershy?”
“Hi, Flash Sentry. It’s nice to see you again.” Her smile was polite, but genuine.
“I know we’ve met before, but I’m afraid I didn’t really get to know you.” Flash smiled politely, though his was somewhat less genuine, covering just a bit of nervousness. “Did Silver Lining tell you why I’m visiting Ponyville?”
“No, he just asked if I could show a friend of his around town.” Fluttershy turned around and began sashaying toward the center of town, leading Flash on a lazy tour of nowhere in particular. “So, what is it that brings you so far from the Crystal Empire?”
He ambled next to her in the quiet morning air, remaining silent long enough for Fluttershy to give him a curious glance. After a deep breath, he replied, “Can you keep a secret?”
Her eyebrows collided and her mouth pinched into a little frown. “Oh no, I don’t like secrets. They’re never good for anypony. It’s best to just be honest and open in the first place.”
Flash hadn’t expected such a meek pony to be so forceful about a simple question. He tried to explain, stammering, “No no, it’s not the bad kind of secret. It’s the good kind, like planning a surprise party, it’s good news that you only keep secret until everything’s ready.”
Early morning silence overtook them as Fluttershy stopped in the middle of the empty street, then looked down and halfheartedly kicked at a pebble. “Sometimes, even those kinds of secrets can hurt somepony. We planned a surprise party for Pinkie Pie one time, and, um, it didn’t go very well.” Her lecture had dissolved into a shameful confession, and she looked like she might cry.
He hated to see a mare upset. He wanted to fix everything, be the pony in shining armor to rescue the damsel in distress. It was a stallion thing, the subject of a great many books and films, not to mention psychological studies. Appropriately enough, Shining Armor happened to have some magic words for fixing mare problems: “You’re right.”
Flash didn’t mention that these magic words were Shining’s secret.
Fluttershy looked back up with a smile. Flash returned the smile, puffed out his chest, and boldly declared, “No secrets then. I want to take Twilight on a date, but I’d like to explore a couple of places before I decide where to take her for lunch.”
The look on her face was syrupy and soft, something like Flash imagined she would wear when she saw cute bunnies doing, well, whatever it was bunnies did that was so cute. He’d heard stories. He was sure the third-hoof stories about bunnies and ducklings and anything fluffy had been exaggerated; relayed to him by Shining, based on stories told to him by Twilight. Fluttershy did, however, expound at length upon the adorableness of the matchup.
Flash had to raise his voice just slightly in order to butt in. “I was just hoping to get to ask her myself, before word got around to her. So, can we take a look around town? Maybe see some places to eat?”
While still hovering in the air, Fluttershy clutched her hooves to her chest, squeezed her eyes closed tightly and suppressed a squee. She opened her eyes wide and said through a big grin, “I know just the place. They serve breakfast too, so why don’t we get a bite to eat?”
He nodded eagerly, his stomach rumbling in agreement. Shining’s gourmet sandwich had been good, but Flash was still hungry. In fact, he felt half-starved.
The two pegasi floated slowly, inches above the road, as Fluttershy played the simultaneous roles of interrogator and educator. Lost in the conversation, Flash had forgotten to pay attention to the location of the cafe they were now sitting in front of. Fortunately, the mushroom-shaped tables would be easy enough to spot from above, so he resolved to dart up into the air and make a mental map of the town after breakfast.
The waiter seemed overdressed for the morning in his spats and bow tie, especially in such a rustic town. He was more polite than any similarly-dressed Canterlot waiter would have been, and did not look down on the ponies who hadn’t bothered to dress up for breakfast — or even just to brush their manes after rolling out of bed. He wiggled his thin mustache with a smile, as he slid two dishes onto the table between Flash and Fluttershy, before bowing and retreating with a reserved, “Enjoy.”
With a wet plop, Flash hungrily dunked his muzzle directly into his food, and began noisily slurping his breakfast. With a frown, Fluttershy sternly waved her fork at the rude stallion. “Somepony needs to work on his table manners.”
Flash lifted his head from the shallow bowl, gray slime dripping off of his chin. The echoes of his smacking lips filled the tiny room as he looked up from where he was lying on the floor. “It’s not like they gave me a spoon, you know.”
WIth a sigh of resignation, Fluttershy pointed to the bench hanging from the wall. “You could at least eat sitting up like a civilized pony.”
He narrowed his eyes and ignored the gruel that was sliding down his neck, growling, “I’m not civilized. Or hadn’t you heard by now?” Flash stood up and lowered his head menacingly, then slowly advanced on Fluttershy, backing her into a corner of the tiny cell. “I’m dangerous. Can’t be trusted. Celestia was wiiiiiise enough to let you rehabilitate the tyrant of chaos, but me? No. I am irredeemable.”
Fluttershy didn’t flinch away from the snarling pegasus; she didn’t even wipe off the saliva that Flash had spit out with his words. She smiled like she was humoring a foal with a silly idea, or agreeing that a mouse is ferocious. “I know things look bad right now, but you have to have faith in the ponies who love you.”
Flash blinked, pulling his head back in mock surprise. “Ponies who love me? What pony would love me now? Don’t you know my crime?” He pushed his muzzle deep into her personal space, forcing her to pull her head back until her downturned ears touched the painted stone walls. “Aren’t you afraid that I’ll hurt you too?”
“Ummm…” Fluttershy slid down the wall, eyes shifting left and right.
“Aren’t you afraid that I’ll fall in love with you?”
Her eyes grew wide as she began to whimper, “Th-that’s not how we express—”
“Aren’t you afraid,” Flash whispered, his lips threatening to touch the hairs on her ear, “that I’ll sacrifice myself to protect you, so that you can be with the pony you really love?”
“Is, um…” Fluttershy looked down, then hesitantly made eye contact with the trembling stallion before continuing more confidently. “Is that what really happened? Because Celestia said that—”
“Of COURSE she said that,” Flash said, rolling his eyes and sitting back on his haunches. “She’d do anything to protect—” the words caught in his throat, the anger bitter on the back of his tongue. “I mean… Th-that’s what I asked her to do. To protect Twilight. If anypony found out what she did and what I didn’t do, then she’d be in the dungeon instead of me.”
With a kindly smile, Fluttershy asked, “Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?” As his eyes narrowed in confusion, she lifted one hoof gently to his shoulder and began to speak. “You—”
Flash jerked at her ice-cold touch, smashing his face into the bare metal sink that was pressing into his shoulder. Wincing, he turned around and looked at the empty corner where he’d been crouching just a moment ago, shouting at an imaginary Element of Kindness. He looked down at his plate, seeing the papery crust that had formed on top of the gelatinous rice, cracking and curling upward along the edges.
The brightest rays of sunset struggled to make their way down the tunnel outside his cell. Flash decided he should finish eating before it was too dark to see.
______________________________________________
The wood was slightly warmer than the stone. At the least, it didn’t suck the warmth out of his body like the stone did. The numb coldness helped to relieve the itching in his phantom wings, and right now Flash preferred the itch to the cold comfort. It helped keep him awake.
So he stared at the floor where his meal appeared each day, waiting for the sunrise to make its way around the sky, kiss the west, and finally coax light under his door. He still hadn’t decided whether he was able to see the moonlight, or if that was a trick of the senses. In fact, he couldn’t tell whether his eyes were open or closed until he moved his eyelids.
The night had passed. He was sure of that by now. Several nights had passed, with no daylight. Luna must have taken the throne and plunged the world into eternal darkness. Good for her. Maybe now Flash could get some sleep. Or he could have, if the ride wasn’t so bumpy.
Flash sat up with a groan, rubbing his eyes wearily. The benches were harder than they looked, but Flash supposed that soft cushions would probably wear out too quickly to be useful as a train seat. He resigned himself to staring out the window and at least enjoying the landscape that rushed past.
The scenery was the same as it ever was, unchanging and unmoving as it sped by. The sky was the same as it ever was, undulating stripes of pastel sparkling in their own light. The train was the same as it ever was, mostly empty and full of Twilight.
There was a time when Flash enjoyed the train and everything that it meant. Eight hours of looking forward to seeing her, all excitement and butterflies. Eight hours of remembering her, feeling the warmth of her on his side and the smell of her mane on his feathers. Closing his eyes and seeing nothing but her amethyst eyes smiling back.
With no sun, there was no way to tell North from South. Twilight was at both ends of the track, she was his past and future. He felt her warmth, and wondered who was embracing her before he arrived. He longed to see her face, but feared that she would hide her eyes from his. More than that, he feared what he would do when he saw her.
He would hold her, tell her everything would be okay. He would make everything okay. He would forgive her. He would rescue her, make her safe and happy. He would remember what she did. He would remember what she promised to him. He would remember that she didn’t apologize, didn’t try to explain. He would remember that she wouldn’t even look at him. He would remember her silence as he volunteered to be butchered to save her wings, to be vilified to save her reputation.
He would regret.
“You got no room f’regrets, boy.”
Flash turned his head to regard the disheveled unicorn sharing his seat in the otherwise unoccupied car. Though he had ditched the surgical apron, Sanguine looked like he hadn’t bathed since the grounding. The dark circles under his bloodshot eyes made him look even older than did his frizzy gray mane.
Drool seeped unnoticed into Sanguine’s unruly beard. Flash narrowed his eyes and said, “I bet I could keep them in all the empty bottles you’ve left in your wake.”
Sanguine gritted his teeth and breathed heavily for a few moments before snarling, “YOU done this to me, boy. You ain’t my blood. I thought I was doin’ th’world a favor, turnin’ a punk like you into—” he suppressed a belch and waved his hoof at Flash as if to sum him up “—sumpfin’ useful. NOPE! All I done was teach a monster how ta hide behind politeness and decorum. You’re no better than those changelings what ripped up all them boys I stitched back together.”
Arguing on the train never helped. It didn’t matter whether Celestia had sent an image of Sanguine to torment Flash, or he was dreaming up the old stallion on his own — though a glance at the sky was all he needed to make up his mind on that point. They both knew the truth, and it would be futile to try to convince an illusory stallion of something his creator already knew.
But if they both knew the truth, then why was Celestia doing this to him? Flash wasn’t even guilty, so she only needed to give him enough punishment to protect Twilight’s reputation. The nightmares seemed a bit excessive. Were they perhaps some form of therapy, her misguided attempt at giving him a chance at catharsis? Flash may not have been an expert at therapy, but he was pretty sure that it didn’t generally involve everypony you loved calling you horrible names and hating your guts. And wasn’t Princess Luna supposed to be the one helping ponies in their dreams?
An unfriendly shove reminded Flash that Sanguine was still slurring his way through a rant. “If nothing else, you can consider me a bad egshample. Not that you coulda turned out any worse, of course. Heh, maybe if you were a drunk like me, a princess would know better than to associate with you.”
Flash couldn’t see a bottle anywhere around. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time I think about falling in love.”
“Oh, don’t be too hard on yourself, boy,” Sanguine said. He softened his expression as he put a hoof on Flash’s shoulder.
Upon hearing the gentle words, Flash knew the sarcasm was starting, so he clenched his teeth and screwed his eyes shut as hard as he could. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for what was about to come.
“Everypony makes mistakes,” Sanguine continued, “but it takes a real buckup like you to ruin this many lives.”
Flash pinched his lips together and breathed rapidly through his nose. He tried to blink away the tears and remember what it was that was supposed to make this hurt less. The old surgeon had stopped drinking because of the cutting words he would always unsheathe against those he loved. Flash wondered how many other ponies would now be wounded by Sanguine Blade, now that the thoughtless pegasus had whetted his tongue.
Sitting straighter and looking up, Flash said, “I made a mistake, that’s for sure. And I’m sorry.”
Sanguine rolled his eyes. “You’re sorry you got caught.”
Flash didn’t even look at him. “I’m sorry I ever fell in love. I’m—”
“I bet she’s sorry, too,” Sanguine pitched in, giving Flash a hard look.
A sidelong glance was the only acknowledgement Flash gave to that comment. “I’m sorry I thought I could be her stallion in shining armor, galloping to her rescue, the stalwart defender of her honor. I imagined myself in the Shanganeigh patrol; out of supplies, out of weapons, bloodied and outnumbered. There I was, standing resolutely and singing
Send her victorious, Happy and glorious, Long to reign over us: Princess the sun!
“as the Zebra warriors closed in on the unarmed guards, methodically spearing each of us to death.”
As he looked over at Sanguine, Flash noticed that he had stood, unsteadily, and saluted for the national anthem. To finish his thought, Flash added, “I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.”
With a shake of his head, Sanguine plopped back down onto his seat and said, “There’s that regret word again. You gotta move on.”
Flash wasn’t sure whether that comment was intended to be cruel, or if the inebriated unicorn had forgotten that Flash was welded into a forgotten stone cell. “Where am I going to move on to? I’m in prison.”
Sanguine looked at Flash like he was stupid, then explained in a suddenly sober voice, “The prison isn’t the walls around you. The prison is in your head.”
Flash tensed his eyebrows and chewed thoughtfully on his cheek, pondering the words of his former mentor. Sanguine had once said that, ‘All a pony’s really got is his own mind. That’s why drinkin’ is so bad, it takes away everything you’ve got.’
Twilight had taken away everything Flash ever had, and she was still tormenting him long after she had probably forgotten that he’d ever existed. He needed to let go of her if he wanted to have any peace. Maybe he was stuck in a hole in the mountain, but he had a chance to be free of her in his own thoughts. No more memories playing over and over, no more of this damnable train.
Flash remembered Twilight Velvet saying that, ‘Love means opening yourself up to being hurt.’ With a smile, he realized the solution was obvious. If he stopped loving Twilight, then she couldn’t hurt him any more.
Flash looked up from the moist floor, bloodshot eyes half closed and unfocused. His head wobbled slightly, and he didn’t bother looking around the room for the speaker. It didn’t really matter whether the words had been spoken by one of his hallucinations or by himself, because there was nopony else in his cell.
Still, there had been a noise. Or he thought there had been one. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time his ears had played tricks on him, especially after so many nights without sleep. It had just been so hot. Flash thought it unfair that the unseasonably warm spring air could penetrate this deep into the mountain.
It seemed like the sun hadn’t set for three days, possibly four, but his perception of time was so twisted that he couldn’t be sure the dawn had been any more than an hour ago. If Luna’s darkness hadn’t graced the landscape with its restful chill, that would explain the rising temperature. Splashing more water on his face, Flash rolled over and shuffled toward the door without bothering to stand up, then placed his ear adjacent to the slot at the bottom.
Several minutes of silence passed by, but he had nowhere to go and nothing else to do, so he merely continued to listen. Finally, the sharp ring of metal made its way into the heart of the mountain, muddled by its own echoes as it pinballed down the hallway.
Suddenly, Flash couldn’t hear anything above the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears. As he tried to calm his breathing, he reasoned that it was probably just a dropped tool rebounding from the stone floor. By the time he was able to hear anything besides his own excitement, it was clear from the shouts and cries that there was armed combat taking place in the dungeon, and it was progressing in his direction. A particularly sharp scream made it gurglingly clear that the conflict was no training exercise.
A panicked chorus increased in volume as Flash picked out little snippets of what would surely turn out to be some ponies’ last words. Something about a ‘dead end,’ and ‘no chance of escape,’ and an especially strong voice declaring ‘that means you can’t get flanked, so FORM UP!’
He sat up and closed his eyes, trying to think. Nopony would be invading the dungeon to free him. Even his closest friends on the outside thought that he was a monster who deserved to be locked up. This was likely an unrelated battle that had cornered some luckless guards into an unintended doorway, and they had gotten themselves stuck in a dead end.
In any case, he could wait until the battle was over and then shout for help. In the best case scenario he would be freed, or at least mercifully killed. The worst that could happen is that whoever remained in charge would continue to feed him.
The battle was over surprisingly fast. Less than five seconds of clashing swords followed the distinctive pop of a teleportation event, but Flash’s ears continued to be plagued by the agonizing wails of those left bleeding where they fell. The clopping of hooves filled the hallway as Flash listened to a single pony sprinting toward his door.
Flash scrambled away from the doorway and tried to disappear into the walls as he pieced together the evidence before him. A teleporting unicorn, good with blades, who would have a reason to come looking for Flash. The door was engulfed in a shimmering blue magic field for just a moment before being ripped out of the cinderblock wall.
As his eyes adjusted to the ocean of blinding light that poured around Shining Armor’s silhouette, Flash wondered what Twilight’s older brother had in store for him. Murder, perhaps. Maybe torture, though Flash couldn’t imagine anything worse than his current situation. Flash could instead explain everything to Shining, and live as a free stallion, redeemed in the eyes of his friends and satisfied knowing that Twilight finally got what she deserved.
The thought of Twilight in the dungeon slammed a knife into Flash’s gut. Over three years of dwelling on her infidelity, all those months of trying to remember her every negative quality, and he still couldn’t dodge that blow when he thought about Twilight suffering. That made his revenge fantasies somewhat less enjoyable, though he was making progress.
So Flash hung his head, closing his eyes to await whatever fate that Shining Armor deemed appropriate for the stallion who was responsible for hurting his little sister.
“Flash! You’ve got to help us! Celestia and Discord have turned Luna to stone, and now she’s leaving the sun in the sky until all nations send slaves as trib—”
Looking up with suspicious eyes, Flash interrupted, “Wait, why are you rescuing me?”
Shining looked over his shoulder, as if he expected more Solar Guard to come charging down the hallway at any moment, then turned back to face the emaciated pegasus. “Flash, you’re the key to all of this. Celestia knew that—”
Flash interrupted again. “No, no, I mean, don’t you still think I’m a horrible criminal? I doubt that Twilight would have told you the truth. And Celestia pairing up with Discord? That’s ridiculous. Besides, an entire world burned to a crisp sounds waaaaaaay too boring for Discord. You’ll have to do better than that. Start over.”
‘FORM UP!’ pop, swordfight, hoofsteps coming down the hall, blue glow, door gets ripped out, Shining Armor.
“Flash! You’ve got to help us!”
Looking up dazedly from where he was cowering on the floor, Flash asked, “Wait, why are you rescuing me?”
Shining threw a worried glance toward the other end of the long hall as he replied, “At the international trade conference three days ago, Twilight and Celestia turned Luna to stone, then announced their intentions to take over the world. Celestia is leaving the sun in the sky until all nations turn over control to Twilight. In her villainous monologue, Twilight mentioned you, and then I put it all together.”
Flash nodded, one hoof on his chin. “Yes, that sounds just like her. She always did love explaining how much smarter she is than everypony else.”
Shining groaned as he rolled his eyes with a grin. “Don’t remind me.” His serious visage returned. “Flash, you know her better than anypony else. The world needs you to set a trap for her. Use her equally incredible smartness and arrogance against her!”
With a grin and a melodramatic nod, Flash jumped to his hooves and said, “I’d love nothing more!”
Shining squeezed through the narrow doorway and crowded next to Flash. “Good, but first we need to get out of here and find you something to eat. I’ll teleport us directly to a buffet!”
Flash’s stomach rumbled as he spoke through the drool. “That sounds great!”
Shining ignored the noise, adding, “And while you're eating, we can discuss Twilight’s sentence. I can’t decide between ‘locked in stone’ and ‘public humiliation in the stocks.’”
Deflating and letting his grin slip to the floor along with his gaze, Flash murmured, “Yeah, great.”
His last word echoed in the empty darkness, soon joined by quiet sobs that lasted until the morning light puddled again under his door.
______________________________________________
The line between daydreams and hallucinations had become increasingly blurred. His daydreams provided brief respite from the boredom, but offered cruel hope of rescue or companionship when he allowed himself to fall too far into them. His memories were no longer trustworthy, diluted by his hopes or fears. Almost worse than the days filled with hallucinations were the days when they didn’t come.
Twenty-something meals had passed while he stared at the blank, unmoving, uniform walls. Flash had decided that chocolate was the color of boredom. He didn’t bother to wipe the drool off of his cheek as he sat with his back against the wall. He thought about Twilight. He could hear the sound of his own snoring, but he knew he was not asleep. He wondered why she had never graced his visions. Perhaps seeing her would give him some small comfort, and Celestia would allow no comfort in this place, this state of mind.
Flash had tried to glean some comfort, any redeeming feature of his imprisonment. He imagined himself in his own personal monastery, meditating toward some sort of enlightenment by freeing his mind of the one-sided love that had put him in this place. Instead, Flash began to lament the fact that love is one of the strongest forces in the universe.
Even the rough wood planks, which gave him a place to scratch his wing stubs when they itched, could not be counted as a comfort. No amount of scratching could reach the skin that had long since rotted away with the rest of the medical waste. Any temporary relief had been rubbed away with the feathers, and then the skin below that. By the time he’d realized what he had done, the wood was covered in blood.
The infection had been excruciating, but now Flash bathed regularly, splashing water on his body with the gruel dish and scrubbing with his hooves as far as he could reach. Though he still occasionally scratched to the point of bleeding, some basic hygiene had kept him from getting sick again.
He could feel his scabs dragging across the paint on the wall behind him as he breathed, watching the orange spot stretch across the floor like a yawning cat. Flash decided that it must be August, marking the end of his fourth summer. He had long since abandoned any attempts at counting days, but the summers were easy enough to keep track of.
Squinting, Flash bobbed his head up and down while he continued to focus on the rear wall of his cell. If he moved his head around, he could almost make out a pattern in the glare of the sunlight. It was faint, but after several minutes he was sure that it was real. The back wall of the tiny room was composed of cinder blocks, not solid stone as he had assumed since his arrival.
As he climbed to his hooves and approached this new and interesting development, he looked around his cell. There was nothing out of place, nopony offering false hope or accusing him. No piles of delicious food taunting and waiting for him to reach out. The pattern was real, not a hallucination.
Not only was the rear wall made of cinder blocks, but it had been plastered or smoothed over, to appear as stone. That meant he was intended to believe that he was surrounded by more rock than he really was. There was no reason for such an illusion if not to conceal some weakness. There was a chance of escape, if he could chip through the concreted pebbles composing the blocks. He looked around excitedly, once again analyzing each and every piece of metal available to him, this time with new and hopeful eyes.
The sink and toilet were monolithic, and he had no chance to pull anything useful off of them. His dish was a soft and flimsy metal. The chains were embedded in the stone wall, and welded to the frame of his bed. The frame itself was welded together from iron channels, and the wooden boards were fitted inside the channel so they could not be removed.
One corner of the frame, though, was a bit rusty. Welds could leave tiny cracks, and if the rust had penetrated deeply into the weld, Flash might be able to somehow apply enough force to break the joint and possibly get a chunk of metal out of it. A tool for escape.
Presented with an actual chance at freedom, Flash found the choice far easier than his angsty daydreams had predicted. He would simply disappear, get as far as he could from Equestria, and try to forget everything, to leave her at the bottom of a bottle.
Having a plan of action, some hope of escape, and a determination to ignore Twilight’s well-being, Flash realized that The Rules of his captivity were about to change. It was comforting to have a task to complete, it was comforting to see a future outside of this tiny box, and he could no longer take any comfort in seeing a hallucination of Twilight.
“So that’s it? You’re giving up on me?”
Flash knew that when he looked up, he’d see his former fiancée’s moist eyes pleading with him to reconsider. She could pull off the sad-puppy look better than any puppy he’d seen. There had to be some sort of manual on emotional manipulation in that treehouse library, because his heart rate doubled and his breaths became shallow, just as she’d planned.
Flash spoke calmly through gritted teeth, “I gave up on you when you hid your face instead of telling me the truth.” Looking Twilight Sparkle directly in the eye and sitting up as straight as he could manage, he added, “I just stopped giving up on me.”
A single, lonely tear rolled down Twilight’s cheek as her voice cracked. “You… you don’t love me any more?”
He roughly bumped her aside with his shoulder, speaking as he examined the metal frame of his bed in more detail. “Wouldn’t that be nice. No, if I had stopped loving you, then you couldn’t hurt me any more, and if you couldn’t hurt me, then you wouldn’t be here. Your existence serves only one purpose.”
Twilight didn’t speak another word, she simply collapsed on the floor and sobbed quietly in resignation, with occasional glances that were surely meant to cut deeply. Flash did his best to ignore her illusory pain as he went about his work, poking and prodding various bits of the metal and wood assembly. The planks were fit tightly into the frame, so tight that they didn’t even have enough room to wiggle. If he were to soak the wood, it might swell up enough to pop the weakened corner weld. That would be a good starting point.
After the first three dishes of water, every bit of the wood’s surface was wet, with a puddle growing on the floor beneath. If firewood took nearly a year to dry out, it may take that long for dry wood to soak in as much moisture. Shrugging to himself, Flash decided that he had nothing better to do, so he sat down and waited for the slivers of an ancient tree to slowly drink in the moisture.
Flash looked down at the sobbing alicorn and grinned maliciously. “So… read any good books lately?”
______________________________________________
He had managed to sleep most of the way home, but the horizon still refused to acknowledge the sun’s approach as the train neared the platform. It had been nice to see Twilight, but things hadn’t gone according to plan, any plan.
Sitting up in alarm, Flash spilled his bottle of water on the bench. He noted that things back at the Crystal Empire must have gone wrong as well. There were two guards in full armor standing in the yellow circle beneath the station lights, fidgeting as they watched the train draw closer. As their images increased in size, Flash could see that they were holding a set of armor.
By the time the heavy cars were rolling up to the platform, Flash had already squeezed through the window and flown to the platform. As he listened to the situation report, he extended his wings and stood up straight for his armor to be lowered over his head.
“Sir, you’re needed in the war room, right now.”
Raising one eyebrow, Flash slid a sideways glance at the unicorn who was tightening the straps around his stomach. “That’s not much of a situation report.”
“That’s all we know, sir. Our orders were to send you to the war room as quickly as possible.” One last sharp tug to make sure the plates were secure, and the guard stood back to offer a quick salute.
Flash scanned the sky for any sign of danger, then launched himself into the air, slapping gravity into submission with each powerful stroke of his wings. From above, the Empire looked peaceful, with the sky beginning to smile down its light on the sparkling structures below. With a subtle twist of his primaries he bled speed and dipped to his right, gliding toward a balcony near the heart of the crystal castle.
Without slowing down, he touched his hooves to the floor and let the momentum of his heavy armor carry him sliding down the hall. Half-running and half-flying, he bowled through passageways that he didn’t need to see to navigate. Flash flared his wings and kicked at the slick floor with his brass shoes, making the final turn into the war room.
The room was usually nearly empty, but Flash wasn’t surprised that it was populated in an emergency like this. Prince Shining Armor and Princess Cadance, both in their own armor, had their backs to the door, scrutinizing the diorama on the table at the room’s focus, pointing at various features and murmuring to themselves.
With a few flaps of his wings, Flash jumped over their heads and landed on the other side of the table, panting. He looked up expectantly to the pink princess, who raised her eyes in turn to meet his as she twisted her black handlebar mustache with a thoughtful look on her troubled brow.
Flash’s own eyebrows didn’t know which way to run. He opened his mouth and turned to Shining Armor, who was also twisting his black mustache. Flash inhaled, started to speak, closed his mouth, and exhaled through his nose. He turned around to see all of the guards in the room standing motionless, sporting identical mustaches, though a few were sweating nervously as they tried to avoid eye contact with Flash.
When he turned back to the table, there was a new face studying the miniature town. A neon pink Earth pony was twisting her black mustache, nodding her head in contemplation as her frizzy pink bangs bounced out from under a drab green helmet. Lifting a riding crop in the crook of her forelimb, she pushed a miniature Twilight from a tiny treehouse toward a building with little mushrooms in front of it.
Flash started to speak, but noticed an odd tickling sensation on his upper lip. Snickers began erupting from the guards behind him as he crossed his eyes to get a look at his own mustache. He sighed in resignation before beginning to twist his mustache as he looked down at the miniature Ponyville upon the table. “There’s no emergency, is there?”
Cadance began chuckling as Flash slowly poured a glass of water over the nearest chair. Shining snickered, but managed to croak out, “That depends. How was your date?”
Pinkie zipped out from under her costume accessories, leaving the helmet and mustache floating in the air for an implausibly long moment. She bounced up and down on her four hooves together, wide eyes and a wider grin infecting the entire room with an optimistic excitement that could make anypony forget their troubles. “Tellme tellme tellme tellme tellme!”
Twilight quietly said, “Yes. How was your date?”
Any humor that could have been provided by Pinkie Pie and her mustache prank vanished along with the war room. Flash slowly shrugged, still feeling the weight of his armor pulling him down. He looked over his shoulder, examining his ribs and the few disheveled feathers he had left. As skinny as he was, he felt heavier than he’d ever been.
He looked at Twilight with tears in his eyes. “Why did you have to pull me out? Pinkie was going to make everypony laugh. Please, I… I just want to laugh again.”
She just smiled, the kind of smile that provides no warmth or affection, only pity.
“Did you always pity me?” Flash asked as he examined the waterlogged wood, black with mildew, swollen and bowed within its own metal prison. “Or was I just a toy for you, a peasant you could laugh at behind my back?”
Twilight watched him climb up onto the shelf, and looked up at him, pleading, “Flash, you know it’s not like that.” She reached out a hoof to his, trying to keep him from standing on his bed. “I needed somepony to love me for who I am, not because I’m a princess. You loved me, you still love me, I—”
Flash kicked her away, snarling. “You say that like it’s a weapon. Just shut up and let—”
A booming voice came to them, echoing ethereally as if from some great distance. “Flash Sentry, are you lost? Where are you?”
Their eyes wide, Flash and Twilight looked at each other. He licked his lips, glanced around the room, and finally spoke. “Well that was new. Did you hear it, or…?”
“Yes! I heard it! That was Celestia!” Twilight was giddy, bouncing, looking around the room expectantly, as if the Princess of the Sun was about to slide through a wall and stand regally with her wings extended, awaiting their adoration.
“Forgive me if I’m not thrilled.” Flash spent a moment glaring at Twilight. “I’m just glad that I’m not the only one who heard that.”
“Flash, honey, you know I’m not real. I’m a hallucination representing some part of your subconscious mind. I only know what you know. In fact, if I was actually here, I would know some fancy word for it, and then you would roll your eyes. So if you hear something, then I heard it too, even if it wasn’t real.”
“Yes, I’m aware that you’re smarter than me. You don’t have to tell me every—” Flash opened his eyes wider and gritted his teeth “—bucking—” he leaned forward, towering over Twilight “—TIME!”
Holding up one hoof, Twilight sheepishly said, “Technically, since I’m just part of your subconscious, I can’t actually be any smarter than you.”
“SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” Flash jumped up and down with each word, stomping on the bowed and distorted wood, putting more and more stress on the weld he had been watching for months.
With one final stomp, a sharp bang snapped Twilight out of her most recent sobbing fit. The wood didn’t spring back up this time, causing Flash to lose his footing and tumble to the floor, landing on his back. After giving his eyes a moment to roll themselves around to point in the same direction, he shimmied underneath the bed and looked up at the corner.
The weld had broken, but not completely. Fortunately, it did liberate a triangular shard of metal about the size of a knife blade. Licking his lips and giggling like a foal adopting a puppy made of ice cream sundaes, Flash took hold of the metal and lay down facing the rear wall, preparing for the months it would take to chip through a single cinder block, one tiny pebble at a time.
Flash positioned his tool against the wall, and gave it a sharp blow from his hoof. The plaster facade came off in tiny chunks, and by the time daylight had faded away, he’d managed to expose a whole block in the center of the rear wall. Although he knew that the plaster was far softer than the wall itself, he felt that his progress deserved some sort of reward. Perhaps some cake.
“How was the cake?” Twilight and Pinkie asked simultaneously.
Most of the guards were chatting idly over their empty plates while Princess Cadance shared a quick nuzzle with her husband. Flash looked down at his own empty plate and felt his lip tremble. He whispered, as if to remind himself. “It… it was purple. With pink stripes. And stars. The sugar crystals made it sparkle.”
Twilight smiled sweetly while Pinkie rolled her eyes and replied to a completely different comment. “Well, I’m glad it was better than your date…”
Pinkie inhaled sharply as her eyes grew wider and wider before she leaned forward, vibrating with a dramatic revelation. Flash didn’t bother to lean back in fear like he had the first time, and he didn’t listen as she proposed a plan for an unmistakably unforgettable second date. He simply gritted his teeth and crumpled the paper plate, letting a few stray sugar crystals fall to the floor while he glared at the pony who didn’t belong in this memory.
Twilight shrank away from the furious pegasus whose armor hung limply over his gaunt frame and truncated wings. Pinkie Pie bounced around singing an ostensibly romantic plan as guards joined in the fun, shouting out ideas for settings or gifts. The couple sat in the center of a tornado of mirth, oblivious to the joyous scene that had set the stage for their romance.
“I j-just wanted to have some cake!” Flash half-sobbed and half-growled. “I can’t even remember what it tasted like. You’re ruining ALL of my memories!”
“Not all of them!” Spike pointed out. “Just the good ones.”
Twilight pushed the menu down to the table with one hoof so Spike could see the look on her face. “I don’t think we really need any appetizers for lunch, and we certainly don’t need several.”
“Actually,” Flash said, jealously eyeing other ponies’ meals as they passed by, balanced on the backs of at least a dozen waiters, “I’m starving. I’d be happy to split an appetizer with Spike.” He leaned over and covered his mouth with a fetlock, whispering conspiratorially, “Just nothing with gems in it, okay? I like having teeth.” Flash pulled back his lips and chomped his teeth together noisily a few times.
“You know what?” Twilight said, tossing down her menu disdainfully and leaning back. “I don’t think you can blame me for not knowing this was a date.”
Shining Armor reached out with a stick and knocked over the miniature Flash Sentry that had been sitting next to the Twilight figure among a group of mushrooms. “It looks like we overdid the not overdoing it.”
Cadance nodded, with a thoughtful hoof on her chin.
The waiter stopped and gingerly picked up all three empty plates from the warped and splintery wood, loading them onto the tray he balanced on his back. He stepped carefully over Flash’s back, then looked down at the dust-covered stallion and twitched his mustache in disapproval. Without looking up, Flash slid another tiny pebble out of the hole in his wall to join the small pile that had accumulated off to one side.
Twilight sighed, then shuffled over to join Flash on the floor, prompting him to scoot a purely symbolic distance away. She briefly examined the shallow cavity he was busy chiseling at, then poured all her soul into her eyes. “Please, take me back to the cafe, let’s do lunch again. I just want to go back to the way things were.”
Spike pulled the napkin away from his mouth and tossed it over his shoulder. He waddled over to the couple and gave Flash a look that could cut sapphire. “Twilight, why don’t you go back to being a prop. I need to talk to Flash.”
As many horrible things as he’d said to Twilight over the last few years, Flash was still shocked to hear Spike speak to her that way. After jumping to his hooves and sputtering for a few seconds, he managed to spit out, “Spike! You shouldn’t talk to Twilight that way. You kno—”
“YOU know that’s not the real Twilight!” Spike pointed an accusing finger at Flash. “You don’t know the real Twilight, she’s only ever been a prop to you.”
“What? Spike, we—”
“Sit down, shut up, and listen.” The venom in the little dragon’s voice snapped Flash’s mouth closed like a mousetrap. There was more fire in his eyes than Flash had ever seen come out of his lungs. “The only reason I don’t burn you to death right now is that you’re exactly where you deserve to be.”
Flash relaxed into a smug grin, rolled his eyes and retorted, “Well, that and you’re not real.”
Spike coolly pressed a sharp claw into Flash’s chest hard enough to make him shuffle backwards. “I’m real enough. I’m the only part of your mind still sane enough to know the truth.”
“Sane enough that I want to burn myself to death?”
The fire in Spike’s eyes melted. He lowered his chubby arm, letting it flop to his side. “Like I said, sane enough to remember the truth.” Taking a step to the side, he gestured ahead and asked, “Flash, what do you see?”
Flash brushed the leaves aside to get a better peek through the open window, then winced as Spike grabbed handfuls of long shaggy blue mane to climb up onto the stallion’s bony shoulders. There was a princess illuminated by candles, at a table by herself, with a book at her nose blocking her view of the floral centerpiece. A young white unicorn crooned into a microphone, accompanied by a pegasus filly and a baby dragon. The waiter approached, and addressed her in a thick Prench accent.
Flash turned his head ninety degrees to look out the corner of his eye at the dragon perched on his shoulders, the same dragon who was playing an upright bass on the stage, and did his best not to sound curious. “So, what exactly are we looking at, here?”
Spike grabbed him roughly by the cheeks, twisting Flash’s head back toward Twilight’s table. “Don’t you recognize your third date? The ‘first date she knew was a date.’”
“I… don’t get it. Where am, uh, was I?”
Spike raised one eyebrow and leaned over to look at the foliage that surrounded them, intoning, “You’re sitting in a bush, spying on a bunch of ponies eating dinner.”
Flash pointed inside urgently with a hoof. “No, I mean, I was there, sitting across the table from her.”
“Just watch,” Spike groaned.
“Fine.”
Another mare sitting alone closed a book and took one final sip of wine before standing up. When she turned to leave, she spotted Twilight and immediately smiled, trotting over with a bounce in her curly mane. Poking her head around from behind the oblivious alicorn, she chirped, “I’m glad that I’m not the only one here who’s on a date with a book.”
“Hmm, what?” Twilight jerked her head up, looking for the source of her distraction. “Oh, hi, Cheerilee. What were you saying?”
Holding her own well-worn novel in the crook of one limb, Cheerilee motioned toward the book Twilight was still holding in her magic. “I see you’re on a date with a book.”
“What? No, I’m just here to support Spike’s first public performance. Well, that and eat dinner. We are in a restaurant, you know.” Twilight giggled, gesturing at the diners surrounding them.
“Well,” Cheerilee said, slipping into teacher mode as she sat down on the cushion next to Twilight’s. “You’re in a fancy restaurant. With candles. And flowers.”
Cheerilee turned to the dais and watched a beret-clad Scootaloo gently thump out a beat on a djembe, with a giddy grin underneath the black circles of her sunglasses. Spike nodded his head and plucked the long heavy strings without taking his gaze off of Sweetie Belle, who was pouring her heart into passable Prench with her eyes closed. Cheerilee looked over her shoulder at Twilight, batting her eyelashes seductively, and purred, “Romaaaantic music.”
“And look—” she poked at an illustration in Twilight’s history book that showed a pegasus facing down an impossibly large and heavily armored Earth pony “—a nervous stallion.” Cheerilee leaned back and shrugged her shoulders. “Honey, you’re on a date.”
Twilight and Cheerilee giggled together as single mares, sharing a few moments of girl talk, surrounded by the warm light in the cozy establishment. Flash looked down at the dirt and twigs under his grubby orange hooves, noticing the familiar pattern of the roots twisting over each rock and clump of soil. He pushed aside a little pile of pebbles, then settled down to the ground and began poking at a hole in the restaurant’s wall with his makeshift tool.
The filthy stallion smiled giddily as he pulled out a hoof-sized chunk of the wall and placed it aside, turning back to the hole with hungry eyes.
“FLASH!”
Flash twisted his head around to look at the dragon who was tapping a foot with his arms crossed. “What? I’m busy.”
“Just don’t forget, okay?” Spike seemed genuinely concerned, which made Flash concerned. None of his hallucinations had cared about him before, they only wanted to make him feel worse than he already did.
“O-okay. I’m just gonna…” Flash pointed with a hoof as he turned back to the wall, wondering why he would hide in the bushes watching his own date pass by without going inside.
As he levered the makeshift chisel to the side, a piece of the wall gave way, falling back into the inky darkness. Quickly placing his nose in front of the hole, Flash could detect no air flow, and there were no noticeable smells to give him an idea of what lay behind the bricks.
A cheerful orange glow announced sunset’s approach. Flash worked quickly, using the existing hole to knock more and more chunks away from the rough edge, occasionally resorting to brute force, leaving him breathless but increasingly frantic. Soon, the entire block was reduced to rubble, and Flash used the chunk of metal to scoop the material away from the hole.
As he reached inside with a hoof, Flash was disappointed to feel metal only a few inches away. But as the splash of reflected sunlight crept across the floor, he realized that it would shortly illuminate what lay behind his wall. His heart was pounding harder than he could ever remember as he waited.
“You broke her, you know,” Spike said, sitting on Flash’s shelf, dangling his legs forlornly with his chin in his hands. Night Light nodded somberly while Twilight Velvet sniffed, dabbing at the moisture collecting in the corners of her eyes. Applejack stood motionless, with a resolute scowl tenuously covering a frown. Rainbow Dash hovered above them, forelimbs crossed, with a vacant stare that conveyed more violent intent than a hundred threats. Half a dozen other ponies crowded the tiny room.
Flash looked at them in disbelief, then glanced back down at the sunlight making painfully quick progress across the floor. “Can we please not do this right now?”
Night Light spoke for the group. “Flash, you’ve put this off long enough.”
“Fine. But we stay here. I can’t wait for another year just to see what’s on the other side of my wall.”
Nodding, Night Light looked to Spike, who gave one unsteady sigh before beginning to speak. “She hasn’t opened a book. She hasn’t flown. She just sits by the window. Sometimes she cries.” His voice was cracking, but he didn’t shed any tears. “Not even Pinkie can make her laugh.”
He flexed his jaw, then bit his lip, glaring at the group for a moment. “I didn’t do anything to hurt Twilight. I confessed to protect her. But we’ve been through this a million times.” He lifted his face and spoke to the ceiling. “Hey, Celestia, do you think it’s going to be any different just because you have them gang up on me?” Turning back to the group, he said, “I loved Twilight, I’d never hurt her. As much as she’s hurt me, and, heh, despite my best efforts, I still love her.”
Applejack spoke up this time. “No, Flash, you loved the idea of her. The Twilight you loved was nothin’ but a prop you created in your head. You never loved the real Twilight.” She looked down at her hooves and shuffled uncomfortably as she whispered, “You jus’ wanted her.”
Flash peeled his attention away from the advancing light, then desperately looked to Night Light and Twilight Velvet. “Please, tell them! We spent so many afternoons watching hoofball, talking about Twilight. You told me so many stories, gave me so much advice about relationships—”
Twilight Velvet stomped a hoof, giving up her efforts to hold back the tears or steady the tremble in her lip. “NO! Flash, you have never even met us.” She looked at her husband, who put a hoof on her shoulder and nodded his encouragement. “Nighty and I, we’re nothing but imaginary friends to you. We’re the parents you always wanted; we have a successful marriage, we do what we can for our kids, we even use alcohol responsibly. We’re perfect. We’re cliché.”
Flash was blinking rapidly and beginning to hyperventilate as he tried to digest what Velvet was saying. He kept looking back and forth between her and the floor, where the sunlight was threatening to illuminate the hole he had dug for himself.
Night Light took a step forward, gently asking, “When was the last time your own parents have shown up in your visions? Did Twilight ever meet them when you were ‘dating?’”
The stone was cool against Flash’s cheek as he lay down on the floor to keep track of the light’s progress toward the dark heart of the mountain. He halfheartedly mumbled a wordless reply.
“Sugarcube,” Applejack began, “y’all think these visions are some sorta punishment from Princess Celestia, but you were seein’ things before you ever landed in here. Don’tcha think mah accent is kinda ridiculous for somepony who grew up in the same town as a thousand other ponies who don’t have any twang in their tongue?”
Flash looked to Shining Armor, but couldn’t formulate any words before his boss and mentor spoke up in a cold, official tone. “Flash Sentry, you were removed from the Crystal Guard for your delusions. You talked about sitting around a table at card games you weren’t invited to. You imagined some sort of connection to my family that, quite frankly, creeped me out. When we caught you in the war room playing with dolls, we had no choice.”
“No… no, no!” Flash was trembling now, terrified of what the sun’s last rays would illuminate, and powerless to stop the accusations of a dozen artificial friends. “We-we were engaged. Velvet, you gave me your mother’s ring…”
Her voice was gentle now, the anger had melted into the loving concern that Flash knew, appreciated, and depended on. “No, Flashy, you broke into our home and stole it.”
Rainbow butted in front of Velvet, imaginary spit landing on Flash’s face as she screamed. “Yeah, and when Twilight opened that book you butchered, she nearly burned down her favorite restaurant!” She aggressively poked Flash in the chest with both hooves to punctuate her tirade. “Celestia gave her that book! She kept it in her bedroom, you creep!”
Flash winced and looked down, then gasped when he saw what the evening’s sun had illuminated. He scooted his face closer to the hole, reaching out a hoof to tap on the door, identical to his own, that had been bricked up centuries before to form the rear wall of his prison. The gap at the bottom was still dark, though a few more minutes would let the sun peek into this new blackness.
A soft voice cut through the ringing in his ears. “She came to me and cried when she had to stop her sunset flights.” Fluttershy’s eyes were smooth turquoise blades that slid deep into Flash’s chest. “Somepony was following her, and she didn’t feel safe. Rainbow almost caught you, once, but…”
“The boxing match.” Flash’s ears drooped as he pulled his face away from the slot under the ancient door. The light just wasn’t enough to see what was inside. His gaze wandered to the less angry of the pegasus mares in the room. “I… I remember, remember… Rainbow, I’m sorry.”
“Do I look like a boxer to you, buddy?” her voice cracked. “You broke my rib! But it’s not me you need to be sorry to.”
Flash looked up and accepted the dish of water that Twilight was holding out to him. After blowing the dust off of the floor, he poured the water into the puddle of light that was just reaching its brightest. With no tremors in such a solid foundation, the surface tension pulled into a perfect mirror, reflecting light under the second door, and showing Flash what had been hidden just a few feet away since his arrival.
Ages of airlessness had reduced the pegasus to a mummy. Half of a humerus stuck straight into the air, midnight blue feathers still clinging to the bone like a frozen flag raised in eternal salute to Nightmare Moon. Shrunken skin stretched over the pelvis like a drum, prompting Flash to look at his own bony flank.
His walk down the long hall, with plumbing fixtures every dozen feet, played in Flash’s mind. When a prisoner died, they simply bricked up the front wall to make the back wall of a whole new cell, lopping off the last few feet of the long hallway and leaving the body to decay. Celestia had redefined the word ‘permanent,’ hitting him like a hurricane. Not only would he spend the rest of his life in this cell, but the rest of eternity, too. Nopony would ever see him, dead or alive. He would have no grave, no funeral, and no mourners.
His head waved like a tree in a storm. Flash looked up to Twilight, who returned the same helpless smile that she’d been wearing for years. He whimpered, then rubbed his nose with a fetlock. “It-it’s… I’m in…”
“You know the word, Flash.”
“I want you to say it. You’re the smart one.”
She whispered, “Oubliette.”
“Celestia threw me in a hole so she could forget me.” Flash tasted bile as he looked at the pain in all the faces of ponies he thought he had loved. “I wish you could all forget.”
“We ain’t like you, Sugarcube.” Applejack rubbed her hat in a circle around the crown of her head while she pondered her next words. “Lyin’ to yourself ain’t healthy. If you’d been honest about wantin’ to get to know Twi better, then maybe…” She shrugged.
Everything made sense. Celestia was a fair and honest ruler, who would never imprison an innocent pony, not even to protect Twilight’s reputation. All this time, he had thought Twilight had betrayed him, but he couldn’t imagine Celestia’s apprentice advancing to the point of literal ascension without mastering self-control.
Even Discord, the legendary spirit of chaos that had tormented all of Equestria for nearly a century, had been given a chance at redemption. Looking at his future self in the water’s surface, he realized that only the very worst crime could have landed him in Celestia’s oubliette on top of the Lunar Rebellion’s most sadistic genocidal maniacs.
Sharing a couch with Twilight Velvet, Flash listened to her repeat the words she had spoken the night that she and Night Light had given their blessing. “You’ll hurt her in ways you won’t even know.” His own words, spoken through an imaginary mother. Had he been planning it, even then? He had no memory of the crime and no doubt of his guilt.
He could not imagine anything that could possibly be worse than his current fate; butchered, locked in a hole with no company but the vilest of all monsters, and nothing to do but dwell on his guilt and the pain he had caused to those he had loved.
Flash looked sheepishly down at his hooves, pushing a few loose teeth around on the floor. “I don’t even know if you have a mother.” He looked up again, his gaze focused far beyond the iron door. “If you do, I’m sure she’s very nice. I don’t really mean those things I said.”
The smooth metal did not reply.
He sighed. “I… I don’t blame you. You have to punish monsters like me.” The blood at the corners of his mouth cracked as he halfheartedly smiled in sympathy. “I just forget sometimes, what really happened. Happened.”
She never replied to him. She wasn’t a hallucination; he never saw her. On the few occasions when her voice could be heard echoing through the foundations of the mountain, he had done his best to remain silent, or even hide under his bed for what little comfort it could provide.
Perhaps he talked to her for catharsis. All of these hallucinations were part of his punishment, and therefore provided no counseling, only judgement. Judgement and more victims. He had built his fantasy world because he hated to see them suffer. In his head, he had loved them, not hurt them.
Flash spit out a feather. They tended to fall off when he chewed too hard, but he wasn’t flying anywhere. He hadn’t bothered to pick them up either, so they added a splash of color to the monochromatic skyscape of the floor. The gleaming white teeth sparkled like stars upon the black, dried blood that had fallen from his macerated wingtips over the years. A blood moon appeared.
This was enough. Enough to finish another line, anyway. He dipped the tip of one hoof into the viscous puddle, and lethargically hoisted himself onto his shelf bed. She had shown him who he really was, and she deserved a little recognition, not that anypony would ever see it. With one relatively-clean peach hoof bracing against the wall, he stood on his hind legs, reaching as high as he could. A few strokes, and he climbed down again for another dip. After several trips, he was out of breath and his wingtip had stopped bleeding.
Omni sol tempurat purus et subtelus, vias prebit solitas the sun warms everything, pure and gentle, it shows us familiar paths
Each of the four walls had at least one of the half-remembered lines of ancient poems scrawled upon it. Unicorn monks had collected the lyrics from Earth pony minstrels, preserving them for untold centuries in their monasteries. There they laid forgotten until about a century ago, when a symphony had been written to accompany selected bits of the poems. The dramatic music was excellent for motivating tired recruits during training, especially because the young stallions were almost certainly unaware of the philosophical and occasionally bawdy nature of the Arcanian poems.
They dealt mainly with the fickle nature of fate and the joys and pains of falling in love; topics that typical unicorn scholars of the day thought unworthy of writing themselves. In Flash’s current situation, the words seemed particularly relevant. Some of them, at least.
He looked at the other words he had scrawled onto the walls with blood, now old and oxidized to a sickly black. In the dim light, it took a good deal of concentration to read anything against the brown walls. As he peered around the room, his eyes settled on a few of the more denial-fueled passages. Though he blushed in shame, he couldn’t bring himself to scratch them off or scribble over them because, some days, he was sure that he was incapable of such atrocity…
Ame me fidelitere, fidam meam noto Love me faithfully, see how I am faithful
And that the Twilight he loved was the real Twilight: the lying, cheating Twilight.
“Your Arcanian is horrible.”
“Well, forgive me. It’s been a long ti—”
“The spelling is all wrong.” Twilight pointed at phrases seemingly at random. “I think you’re inventing Arcanian words using some sort of childish attempt at reverse etymology. And it’s obvious from the conjugation that you’re just tacking words together.”
“Well, you are an expert on conjugation, aren’t you?” Flash asked with a bit of a smug grin. One of his few remaining pleasures was the occasional sharp jab.
She didn’t even blink. She did, however, put on her most sultry face. With a great deal of eyelash batting, she slid over to him and purred, “Why yes. Yes, I am. And you” —she punctuated with a hoof poking his chest— “won’t ever be.” She let her hoof drag down his fur before falling back to the ground as she gave him a ‘what now’ look.
None of his insults ever seemed to stick. His best cutting remarks were always parried and her riposte had never missed its mark. Nothing he could do would ever hurt the real Twilight, because she had never loved him. She pretended. Just like he had pretended that he knew her, that he sat in her parents’ living room and shared cider and stories and hopes and fears. Now this Twilight, she loved him. She really did. She loved him, and she wasn’t real. She was the curtain he had pulled over the horrors that he hid from himself. She felt real. He loved her. And that’s why he had to hurt her.
“I love you, Flash.” The warmth in her eyes was convincing. A hallucination that felt real enough for him to feel her pain, real enough now for him to know the truth and be hurt when he hurt her.
He swung, a wide haymaker, putting all of his abdominal muscles into torsion, twisting his entire upper body and turning his hoof into a hammer. She didn’t bother to dodge.
The feel of a bone breaking is very different from that of wood.
When his hoof connected, he felt the shock wave travel down his own skeleton, but that was inconsequential. The shock in her eyes, that hurt. She didn’t break eye contact, not through the entire punch, all the way to the floor. Flash pulled his gaze away to watch a few teeth clatter across the floor, but he could still feel her smoldering eyes looking up at him.
quisquis amat taliter, volvitar in rota whoever loves like this, turns on the wheel
Blood pooled under Twilight’s broken muzzle, diluted by Flash’s tears. He placed one hoof on her face, then slowly shifted more and more of his weight onto that leg. Even as he could feel the broken bones grinding and popping beneath her skin, she did not cry; she was too strong for that. He wasn’t that strong, he couldn’t deal with that kind of pain. That’s why he had built a fantasy life, one that had hurt too many ponies, and now he had to crush that fantasy like a dainty jawbone.
She really was a beautiful creature. Her elegant wings fluttered and twitched as she lay on the crusty floor, squirming her long legs. But she wasn’t real. Those wings were nothing but part of his fantasy. Flash shifted his weight off of Twilight’s face, giving her the freedom to spit out another tooth and mumble something incomprehensible. She looked up at him longingly with wet eyes. As he tugged at her wings with a grimy orange hoof, the perfectly groomed lavender feathers spread apart. Her wing stretched out until the tip touched the floor next to her belly.
Circa me pectora multi sunt suspiria de tua pulchratudine, que me ledunt misire in my heart there are many sighs for your beauty, which wounds me sorely.
As Flash stepped forward to place a hoof in the center of her wing, Twilight did not resist except with her eyes. Her eyes, full of love and the pain of betrayal, pleaded silently with the blubbering stallion. His breathless apologies did not make it hurt any less.
______________________________________________
A little china dinner set rested upon a little card table in the center of the Carousel Boutique. It was cheap china, the stuff that Rarity kept in the lower cabinets, where Sweetie Belle could reach. The table was decorated with eight unlit candles of increasing height, arranged in a ‘spiral staircase’ around a vase of dandelions. Dozens of carefully hoof-cut paper hearts were tacked to velvety curtains that hid the bolts of fabric and other tools of Rarity’s trade.
“Ummm… So does this mean I’m not here to get a new hat?” Twilight smirked and slyly extended her feathers, swishing them over Flash’s cutie mark as she sashayed past him.
Flash drew a sharp breath, and fought to keep his voice at a reasonable pitch as he spoke. “Ah-hah-hah, ahem. Um, I-I thought you didn’t like h-hats?” He cleared his throat.
“I…” Twilight’s ears folded back as she blushed and lowered her chin just a tiny bit. “I don’t. I didn’t. But when I thought you made one specially for me, I was kind of looking forward to it.”
“Wait,” he said with his eyebrows pinched together. “Why do you think I would make a hat? I’m not exactly a tailor. Or whatever you call a tailor who makes hats.”
“I… really don’t know. We’ll have to ask Rarity, when she gets back from the trip she’s been on ALL WEEK. So she didn’t make any hat. Besides, I have seen you use a sewing machine. For seven straight hours. Right” —Twilight pointed at a corner with one hoof— “there.”
Flash gazed out the window near where Twilight had pointed. The pastel sky continued to billow silently, filling even the boutique’s interior with harsh, unrelenting daylight. With a sigh, Flash turned his head to look at his wings as he extended them and flexed the long primaries.
Twilight ignored him, sitting down in front of one of the plates with a giggle. “I suppose I’ll take a rain check on the hat, then.”
The smell of pancakes floated out of the kitchen on a whiff of butter and burning feathers. Flash felt his stomach growl and tug on his ribs like an angry dog pulling on its leash. He knew he wouldn’t get to eat a bite. When Princess Luna went crazy and called herself Nightmare, did she know that her sister had such a knack for them?
Candlelit pancakes - he had insisted. Since moving to Canterlot, he had been closer to Ponyville, but the train schedule didn’t force him to show up at dawn every time he came to see Twilight, so they rarely got to share breakfast any more. With “Breakfast for Dinner” they could have their date and enjoy her favorite meal of the day.
“Do you really even like pancakes?” Flash half whispered, half to himself, as he sat down across from Twilight. Without looking up at her, he picked up a fork in the crook of one hoof, and idly scratched around the surface of the crack-laced ceramic glaze.
The table shook as Twilight slapped her forehooves down on the flimsy surface and leaned forward with wide, eager eyes. “Of COURSE I love pancakes!”
“Oh, so I do know something real ab—”
“That buttery smell, that sizzling sound,” she almost sang, licking her lips as she gazed wistfully toward the ceiling. “Whenever I spent the night at his place, he would always wake me up with pancakes.” She smirked across the table at him, waiting for his reply.
Without looking up, Flash pressed down harder, bending the handle of the fork as the tines slid impotently over the unyielding ceramic. Flash let the deformed utensil clatter to the table. “No. I don’t believe you. Twilight is too honest to do that. Sh-she would never… never…” The words trailed off as he raised his eyes to the empty spot across the table, then dropped his attention back to the empty plate before him.
“Thanks for believing in me,” Twilight said, as she stepped from behind him, daintily making her way to the opposite side of the table. Her smile was warm and genuine, countering the harsh, cold light of Celestia’s nightmare mane.
“But I don’t believe in you,” Flash said, looking into her eyes, soft like wilted violets. “I-I mean, I’m sure the real you is worth believing in, but you’re not the real Twilight.”
The Boutique’s polished wood floor creaked as Flash pushed himself back up to his hooves and picked up his heavy ceramic dinner plate in his teeth. As he shuffled around the card table to Twilight’s side, she lay her head down on her own plate, as if to go to sleep, though she didn’t close her eyes.
“Your love makes me real enough.” She smiled up at him, the kind of sad smile a pony would get at a loved one’s funeral.
The plate didn’t break on the first swing. Dropping a ceramic dish onto a hard floor tends to give the misleading impression that they are fragile things.
Flash spat out the plate and choked back the acid his empty stomach was pushing up his throat. When he had mostly stopped shaking, he picked up the plate again, with his hooves this time. This time, the plate shattered, sending teeth and white chunks of porcelain across the table.
Fluttershy floated in from the kitchen with a stack of pancakes on a platter. “I’m sorry about the candles, I didn’t realize that unicorns don’t keep matches around the house. Since Twilight is here, I thought she—”
Pancakes landed on the floor with a quiet fluff, the top few rebounding into the air. The platter followed, filling the room with a dizzying ring that reverberated off of the polished floor. Fluttershy’s gasp was lost in the noise.
Twilight lifted her head to greet her friend, who quickly rushed to Twilight’s side, cradling her bleeding face. Flash squirmed guiltily for a few moments until Fluttershy managed to stammer, “Wh-what happened? Was it an accident?”
There was something he was supposed to remember, but the way Fluttershy was looking at him, pleading with him, begging him to tell her it was an accident… He wanted nothing more than to run away from the truth, but he had spent too long doing exactly that, and hurting ponies while he lived in his happy little lie. “I hurt Twilight.”
The look on Fluttershy’s face turned Flash’s tears into wordless sobs. It was not a look of judgement, just disappointment. “I thought you loved her?”
Flash stood under the gaze of both mares, impossibly tall, exposed. He was rushing backwards, yet never getting any farther away from their eyes. He swayed and licked his dry lips. “Love is… Love, uh, means… when you’re open to, um, it hurts when, for…”
Fluttershy smiled again, joyless and warm, full of pity and concern. She didn’t understand what was happening, but she could see that Flash was hurting, that much was clear. With bright, compassionate eyes, she reached out to her suffering friend.
If there was one thing in life that Flash was absolutely certain of, it was that he hurt the ponies who loved him.
______________________________________________
Flash awoke choking on bile. Several teeth stuck to his sleep-wrinkled face, but he didn’t bother to brush them off. The Carousel date was the worst of his dreams, except for all the others, but at least he hadn’t burned it down this time. He’d never be able to separate the smell of burning feathers and pancakes. Not that he’d ever eat pancakes again.
No matter how many times he begged her, Fluttershy would never use the stare. Not to save herself, not to save Twilight, not to save him the pain of watching it all again.
The sink looked so far away. And he’d have to dig out the pedal before he could rinse the vomit out of his mouth. Flash sighed and lay his head back down. He was used to the taste anyway.
“It hurts me to see you like this.” Twilight was draped on the bench, resting her cheek on the rough black wood as she looked down at Flash.
Flash didn’t bother to look up. “Because you love me. I know.” He climbed to his hooves, keeping his head down and his eyes closed.
Sixty seconds later, he was scrawling a new line of text onto the wall.
ego immanis, et inanis, status malus I am monstrous and empty, malevolent
Her blood didn’t fade from the wall; it seemed as real as his. In fact, he had forgotten which lines of verse were his blood and which were hers. A hallucination shouldn’t leave lasting evidence. He stepped backward, feeling his hooves sink down until the teeth rose to his fetlocks. And how likely was it that he could remember to continue to hallucinate the same lines that he’d written in her blood? As he sat down, the noise reminded him of foals on a playground, stomping around in pea gravel. Maybe the memories of those lines faded away, too, leaving only his blood and his memories of writing with her blood, then he had simply attributed half of what actually exists to his delirious ghostwriting. For all he knew, there should be twice as many verses as he could see.
Flash lowered his body into the teeth, shuffling and squirming until he was lying in a shallow depression. Despite the occasional poke or scratch, this was certainly more comfortable than the hard, flat floor had been. He looked up, leaving his chin down. The deep red letters abided, and by tomorrow they would be black. It could be his own blood. Maybe it all was, the whole time. He just didn’t realize that he was bleeding, and it was more fun to imagine Twilight broken and bloodied. What were delusions, after all, if not escape from reality?
She was never around when he actually wanted to hit her. Figures. He growled and rolled onto his back. Mares are nothing but trouble, they’ll drive you crazy. Sanguine had been right about so many things. Before he gave up the bottle, at least. In vino, veritas. That was some Arcanian that Flash knew for sure. Nothing but lies, and they cover for each other, too; all mares are the same.
He jumped to his hooves, standing on his hind legs and bracing himself against the wall. He panted as he tried to get a better look at the first line of the symphonic poem, the first line he had written, the first day he’d scratched his stubs to a bloody pulp.
O fortuna, velut Celestia, non variabilis, semper obdurat. Oh fortune, like the sun, never changes, always oppresses.
She had dropped him in this hole to protect Twilight. The princesses together had manipulated him, maneuvered him into place. All of them? Maybe even Luna, was she in on it? What else could explain the too-perfect nightmares, unless Celestia had the same talent as well? Nopony could dream that lucidly on their own, not every single time he closed his eyes. Had this all been some sort of a plan, or did Flash just happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when they had needed a scapegoat?
Had she ever loved him at all, the way he had loved her? Did Night Light and Velvet love him? Flash couldn’t imagine such warm, genuine ponies being able to keep up an act like that. But that Fluttershy… Nopony could be that syrupy-sweet all the BUCKING time. There’s no way she could be for real. It was an act. Over the top. Almost like her entire life was performance art, mocking the version of herself she presented to the world.
Flash closed his eyes. Standing up so quickly had made him dizzy. He pushed off of the wall, spreading his forelegs like wings as he fell backwards, landing on his back with a splash of teeth. Hundreds of loose molars rattled as they each found a place; the sound of them together was something like rain.
The room spun around him as he turned his head and buried his muzzle in the teeth. They smelled like birds and posies. Pancakes and burning feathers. He smiled, and sniffed again. Lace, and mascara mixed with tears. Flash turned his head to the side, and had to hold still for half a minute until the room stopped following him. This time, he smelled icing. Flour and bone dust.
Flash stretched like Winona reveling in grass, rolled over, and buried his muzzle in the teeth. He took a deep breath. Hay and sweat, hard work and family. Honesty. Flash snorted and rolled his eyes. Then again, if she was that honest, she might have been gullible enough to actually believe anything. Like he had been, back when he loved her.
No, that’s not right. It’s not possible to hate somepony with this much passion unless you love them that much, too. Had Velvet said that? Something similar, maybe. She talked about love an awful lot for a mother who gave up her daughter to be mentored in the burning cold light of the sun. Flash wondered, if he had the opportunity to look into Twilight’s eyes again, who he would see in there. A twisted liar, acting of her own accord? Or merely a burned out, hollow shell; another victim of Celestia?
tui lucent oculi sicut Celestia radii your eyes shine like the rays of the sun
But that was pity. A road he didn’t like to go down. Anger was a much better coping mechanism for captivity, which is probably why imprisonment was nearly unknown as a punishment in Equestria. Yet here he was. Flash gritted his teeth as his pulse began pounding faster in his ears. Imprisonment, yes, but not punishment.
He looked around. White teeth gleamed at him in the dim twilight. Yes, he was a monster. He wasn’t always this way. She made him a monster. They. They did. It took two princesses. Three. Three princesses, three alicorns, to break one stallion. Because he was strong. They couldn’t break him. He didn’t need to escape, or even survive. All he needed was to hate, and he would win. If he could just hate hard enough, the universe would bend to his will. That was where unicorns came from, unicorns like her. An Earth pony, somewhere, had the guts to hate so hard that magic was invented.
His wings twitched, sending a murmur through the teeth under his back. He had lost his wings, his magical sense of the atmosphere. But it made him stronger, like a blind pony whose other senses improved to compensate. Or was that just in comic books? As blind as he was, he was so very close to the magic of the world around him. And there was only one thing he needed to do.
“And with that much anger,” Spike said, holding a tooth up to an imaginary light as if inspecting a gemstone, “do you really think that you had any chance at a normal relationship?” Without moving his head, he glanced at Flash with one eyebrow raised.
“Oh no,” Flash said as he sat up. “Don’t try to pull that on me. I know who I am, who I was. Was. I’m angry now, but who wouldn’t be?”
Spike sniffed at the tooth, scrunched up his nose, and tossed it over his shoulder. “Hydroxyapatite. Blech.” He planted his palms on the edge of Flash’s bed and hoisted himself off, landing up to his hips in teeth. As he waded across the cell, he scooped up a couple handfuls of teeth, holding them out for Flash’s inspection. “And this doesn’t clue you in that there’s something not right in your head?”
Flash rolled his eyes. “None of this stuff happened before you and everypony else showed up to try to convince me that I’m crazy. Congratulations, I’m crazy now.”
Spike dropped the teeth, then his arms. “So, you see things around you that aren’t true, that you know aren’t true, yet you continue to act as if they are true? Tell me, then” —he leaned against Flash with one elbow— “what is true? What do you know about Twilight?”
A muscle in Flash’s neck twitched. His mouth made a flat line as he looked at Spike through half-closed eyes. “I know what you want me to say.”
“I’m not trying to get you to say anything in particular. I just want you to admit the truth to yourself.”
“What, that Twilight is somehow incapable of infidelity?”
Spike took a step back and sat down in front of Flash, silently watching him for a few moments. “You spent a lot of time talking with her. You two shared some pretty deep stuff. Stuff she never even told me. You’ve seen her interact with her closest friends, her parents, her mentor, perfect strangers, even her enemies. I happen to know that you’ve even watched her when she didn’t know you were watching.” He gave Flash a playful punch in the shoulder. “You creeper.”
“That… That doesn’t mean anything.” Teeth rattled softly as Flash slumped where he sat. “Mares lie. Lie. Lie.”
“But,” Spike said as he reached out to lift Flash’s chin, “you’ve spent a lot of time with her friends, too. With her foalsitter. Her big brother. Heh, during hoofball season, you practically lived on Night’s couch. You put all that together, and you’ve got a pretty good picture of who Twilight Sparkle is.”
“Yeah.” Flash felt the bile rising again. “The perfect mare. I couldn’t imagine somepony more perfect. Perfect.”
______________________________________________
Sugarcube Corner was usually closed this late at night, but the doors were never locked. Which is why Flash thought it odd that the lights were still on. Even odder, a bear had been sitting on the bridge that Twilight usually led Flash over on their evening walks. This had necessitated a detour, which brought them here. Odder still, a unicorn filly was up far past her bedtime, standing next to the door in an evening gown. She had a towel draped over one foreleg, and was beaming at the approaching couple.
Twilight looked as confused as Flash felt. After Sweetie Belle had greeted them and escorted them inside, Flash noticed that only one table remained in the center of the room. A shock of brilliant pink hair was poking out of a cake box in the glass display case, and a pair of blue eyes peered out of the askew lid.
While Flash and Twilight got settled at the table, Sweetie asked, “May I take your orders?”
Twilight giggled. “What’s on the menu today?”
“We have…” Sweetie’s eyes wandered up and to the right. “Dinner,” she said with a decisive nod.
Flash’s stomach growled. Twilight grinned and said, “You heard the stallion. We’ll have two.”
“Oui oui!” Sweetie squealed before darting toward the kitchen. She was stopped by a pink hoof that shot out of the cake box, holding an apron and a chef hat.
As Flash watched Sweetie don the protective cooking apparel, his eyes grew wide. “I-I remember this. The Cutie Mark Crusaders cooked dinner for us.” He gulped, then looked at the steaming piles of nominally-food on the table in front of him. “It was a nightmare.”
“We’re sorry that your Hearts and Hooves Day plans were ruined,” Scootaloo said with a sad smile.
“So we decided to cook y’all somethin’ special,” Apple Bloom said, then looked to Sweetie.
“Yeah. We’re really sorry about the attack of the giant mushrooms. We just wanted you both to be happy.” Sweetie pulled the three crusaders together so they could maximize their cuteness as they smiled hopefully up at the couple.
“No,” Twilight said as she shuffled around the table to give Flash a peck on the cheek. “It’s a nightmare now.” She settled in next to the three fillies who were effortlessly maintaining their smiles.
______________________________________________
He had run out of Arcanian phrases. It seemed vain somehow, to put his own words on the walls. Ancient words had more meaning. One book of prophecy in particular had stuck out to him as he had read a verse, years ago, but only because it had made him giggle at the time.
My body is wracked with pain, pangs seize me, like those of a mare in labor. I am staggered by what I hear, I am bewildered by what I see. My heart falters, fear makes me tremble; The twilight I longed for has become a horror to me.
It didn’t seem so funny, now. Flash wondered what it had meant to whatever pony originally wrote those words. Or spoke them. Or however prophecy worked back then. He sat back down and didn’t bother to wipe the rest of the blood off of his muzzle. Oddly enough, the teeth never seemed to stay red. They were always blindingly white, even in the dark room. He wondered if the dirty ones collected at the bottom somehow, but it took a lot of work to dig far enough to reach the floor. In fact, he hadn’t eaten in months. Years? Yes, it had been three years since the teeth started showing up. He didn’t need to eat because he was immortal, now. He had ascended.
______________________________________________
Flash sat up and stretched his legs, yawning. It was always nice to sleep on top of his hoard. He had slept for so long that the treasure clung to his belly, forming a layer of armor that would be impenetrable to any mortal blade. As he stalked around the tiny room, his claws sank into the teeth beneath him, and his long, scaly tail curled back around in front of him.
He tilted his head back, using one long orange horn to scratch at a patch of scabs on his back.
______________________________________________
Flash sat up. There were no walls. The entire world was an endless desert; a black starless sky stretched over white dunes as far as he could see in all directions. He licked his lips, then spat out the blood-crusted feathers he’d pulled into his mouth.
“There you are!”
The voice filled Flash with anger, and guilt, and fear. He froze, wishing he had the courage to writhe his way down into the teeth and hide. Or even just to turn around and look at her.
She stepped closer, her light hoofsteps barely making any indentation in the loose surface. Flash could see the pastel rainbow of her mane as it preceded her approach. He felt her perfect, white feathers touching his own; gnarled, misshapen and bloody.
“Oh, Flash! This was never supposed to happen. It’s time for you to wake up.”
“Me too, Celestia! How was your trip?” Twilight’s smile shone like sunlight on snow.
Princess Celestia reached for her protégée with both forelimbs and wings, rolling her eyes as part of her reply. “Diplomatic, and by that I mean boring.”
Both mares giggled as they shared a warm hug of fur and feathers. After several moments and a contented sigh, they returned to the real world. As Twilight pulled back to her relaxed sitting posture, she could feel Celestia’s long white forelimbs still resting on her shoulders.
Even as she drank in the reassuring smile that she knew so well, Twilight was sure that her mentor could feel the apprehension gnawing at her heart. She smiled back uneasily, a sight she was sure that Celestia was expecting to get in return. As always though, just being in her presence was enough to work wonders on Twilight’s nerves, and soon she was certain that everything would be all right. They both turned to the trembling stallion who had been watching their silent conversation in what appeared to be abject terror.
“Flash Sentry, I believe we have met before. It’s wonderful to see you and Twilight sharing such a beautiful thing as love.” Princess Celestia smiled broadly, her mane hypnotically reinforcing the message of good will she delivered. “If you don’t mind, Flash, could you please step outside for a moment?”
“Y-yes, your highness!” Flash bowed smartly before trotting through the door, which Princess Celestia closed quietly with her magic.
She continued to face the door as if still watching Flash walk away. “I can see why you like him.” Turning back to face Twilight with a big toothy grin, she said, “He has a very cute bottom.”
Twilight blinked wildly as her mouth opened and closed like a fish. A deep blush reddened her face as she stammered, “I, uh, P-Princess…” Her eyebrows rose in mock surprise. “You… you’re totally right!”
The pair giggled like schoolfillies for a moment before allowing the seriousness of the situation to once more take hold. As they settled onto the red chaise lounge, Twilight felt like a vulnerable kindergartener again, looking up at the benevolent white face that had guided her life’s path for as long as she could remember. Twilight knew that she was about to be graded on the biggest and most important exam of every mare’s life: choosing a special somepony to marry.
She didn’t realize she had been hyperventilating until she felt gentle feathers on her back, methodically smoothing the ruffled hairs and the turbulent thoughts that boiled out of her head and pooled in her wide eyes. Twilight didn’t bother to fake a smile, she just tried not to pout like a scolded child.
Celestia left her wing on Twilight’s back, and her eyes smiled as she spoke. “Twilight Sparkle, my most faithful friend, you are about to start a journey to discover the magic of a whole new kind of friendship. I wish you could understand how proud I am.”
Her ears perked up, and Twilight basked in the light of the sun’s praise. After a moment, when Celestia’s smile did not grow in return, Twilight started to deflate again. She prompted Celestia, “But…”
Celestia’s mask melted and was replaced with a real smile. “Oh, Twilight! There is no ‘but.’” Glancing theatrically back toward the door, she added, “Well, except for that juicy peach waiting in the hallway. Don’t you just want to take a bite?” She halfheartedly raised one regal eyebrow.
“Heh,” Twilight grunted with a fleeting smile. “I’m sorry, Celestia, I’m just not in the mood for jokes right now.”
Letting her own smile follow after Twilight’s with a sigh, Celestia said, “Of course. I was just trying to lighten the mood a bit.”
“Were you trying to distract me, or just yourself?”
The regal alicorn sat up a bit straighter and pulled her wing out of its comforting embrace. She hummed softly and looked to the ceiling, searching for a memory, or at least the right words to express it. “Twilight, you know I care for you a great deal. I want you to be happy, and I do not wish for any concerns of your station to interfere with your happiness.
“Your brother’s wedding was nearly a disaster. I should have been more vigilant. I missed some signs that I should have noticed, and I neglected to listen to a very wise and perceptive pony who tried to tell me something was wrong.
“You are very dear to my heart, Twilight. I just want to make sure that nothing goes wrong for you. Even as a simple royal apprentice, you faced perils that an average pony could only imagine. But you are a princess now, and that puts you in a whole new category of danger.
“Marriage, and its subversion, have been used as weapons for as long as nations have existed. As a young, beautiful princess with a bright future, you are a target for every terrorist, scheming baron, ambitious diplomat, mysterious creature, and, well, every stallion with a pulse. For you, for your happiness, I need to be sure that your marriage is not more political than romantic.”
Twilight’s teeth showed through her apprehensive grimace. As she looked up from underneath her pinched brow, her bangs formed a second brow that reinforced her concern. Taking a break from the conversation that clearly made the young princess uncomfortable, Celestia chuckled again, asking, “Does Flash know how cute you are when you’re nervous?”
Casting her eyes aside, Twilight mirthlessly mumbled, “I’m always nervous.”
The Regal Sun raised an eyebrow and smirked, tilting one cheek upward, while she waited for Twilight to make eye contact. When she did, and realized the implication of her own words, a blush and a genuine smile graced her visage. She unenthusiastically gave Celestia a gentle punch in the shoulder.
Celestia relaxed and used one gold-shod hoof to lift Twilight’s chin. “I hope you let him see you relaxed as well.”
“Getting this test out of the way will certainly help in that department.”
“It is not a test, Twilight. Though I hope you continue to learn throughout your life, you have surpassed the need for me to give you any exams. I am glad that you still value my input, but I like to think that it is the opinion of a more experienced friend, rather than the instructions of a teacher.” Celestia took a moment to let them both breathe. “It is an interview.”
Twilight glanced at the door again. “An interview to make sure he’s not a changeling, or a spy, or…”
“Or simply a libidinous stallion with a one-track mind?”
The last comment, though half in jest, caused Twilight to blush and fold her ears back. She wasn’t sure for whom she was blushing, but she smiled sheepishly anyway. “I…” Twilight smirked, then changed her mind about that train of thought. She shifted her eyes left and right before raising them to Celestia and asked, “How can you find that stuff out just by talking to him?”
Celestia sucked in a breath through her teeth, then looked apologetically at Twilight. “That is why I asked to talk to you before the interview. I wish to look inside of Flash’s mind. I intend to give him an illusion, and offer him a choice that will reveal his true intentions. It will not be a serious violation, just a modest invasion of his privacy.”
Twilight narrowed her eyes and twisted her jaw to one side, pinching her lips together in a grimace of disapproval.
The polished marble floor returned Celestia’s gaze as she searched her own face for reassurance. “I would never invade a pony’s privacy in such a manner without permission, but I obviously cannot ask him.” She tore her gaze away from the pink eyes beneath her hooves, and lifted it back up to meet Twilight’s. “As his intended wife, I believe he would consider you capable of providing consent for such an interview.”
Without breaking her frown or lifting her eyebrows, Twilight icily replied, “I am also capable of declining consent.”
The almost-frustrated sigh that Celestia let escape her lips was a sign that Twilight took as indicative of their more reciprocal relationship and the decreased need for the elder’s mask of calm confidence. At that moment, it also felt like condescension.
Twilight gritted her teeth. “This is Shining’s wedding all over again, but in reverse. This time, you’re as paranoid as you accused me of being last time.”
“And last time, you were right to be paranoid.” It almost seemed like she was conceding a point, even when she was arguing one.
With one purple hoof in the air and her mouth hanging open, Twilight squinted as she tried to decide whether arguing against that last point would be arguing with herself.
“Last time,” Celestia continued, “you were the outsider, coming into the situation with fresh eyes, and I was the one who was involved, entangled, and too close to see what was really happening.”
The heavy wooden door stood mutely between Twilight and her beloved. So did Celestia. Twilight wished she could talk to Flash, hold him, make him a part of this decision. And that was the problem.
“Twilight, you need an outside perspective. I can provide that with a simple interview.”
The lump in Twilight’s throat grew out of the battle between her autonomic nervous system, responding to increased stress by trying to expand the glottis muscle in her neck to increase oxygen flow to her lungs, and her conscious effort to control her breathing. The muscle responded to conflicting input by tensing up, which made it feel like she had swallowed a walnut.
“That’s not simple. You’d be going into his head. I’ve read about this, it’s dangerous. Besides, what you want to do is more than a ‘modest invasion’ of his privacy.” Twilight stood up on the lounge, nearly as tall as the larger alicorn was sitting, and pointed an accusing hoof at Celestia. “It-it’s unconscionable!” She plopped back down onto the chaise, heavy with reasons to deny the ‘interview,’ but with even more reasons to allow it weighing down her shoulders.
The same weight pulled Celestia’s gaze down. “It is necessary, Twilight, and I can see in your eyes that you know it too. For a normal unicorn, it might be dangerous, but I assure you that Flash Sentry will be perfectly safe in my care. I would avoid searching any deeper than necessary. I would learn of his motives, and leave him be. I have no interest in snooping, only in protecting you.”
“I still don’t like the idea of lying to Flash. Isn’t honesty important enough to, I dunno, have its own Element of Harmony?”
“It is, and I want to be sure that Flash is being honest with you. Besides, the deception would be short-lived, and then we can continue with a more pleasant conversation over cucumber sandwiches and tea. What do you think, Twilight?”
Her purple hooves kneaded the red upholstery forcefully as she looked toward the door and bit her lower lip. “I-I don’t know? What if he doesn’t pass the test?” Her eyes came back unfocused as she explained to herself, “Then I’ll be glad that I’m not marrying a changeling, or… something.” Her eyebrows came back together as she continued her internal debate externally. “But what if he passes the test and then he’s angry with me about it?”
Celestia nodded. “That is a concern, yes. But are you intending to marry a stallion who would be angry about such a common-sense precaution?”
“I… Of course he wouldn’t be angry.” Her thoughts turned to an illusion she suffered deep beneath the Crystal Empire, one that still haunted her nightmares. “I think. I’m still worried about him though. I just want to be sure he’ll be okay? I suppose if you’re sure that it’s safe, then…” She searched for any sign of doubt on Celestia’s face.
There was no sign of doubt, only that brilliant smile. “My little pony, you have trusted me to guide your life for so many years. Do you trust me to keep your husband safe?”
Twilight’s moist eyes darted every direction, searching the room for an answer; painted on the walls, scrawled on the ceiling, anywhere. As she danced nervously on hooftips, her gaze focused on the pony in front of her. Twilight let out the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding, and lunged forward to bury her face in Celestia’s soft white neck. “Of course I trust you, Celestia.”
Celestia warmly returned the hug with somewhat less aggression than it had been offered with, stroking Twilight’s mane with her feathers. “I’ll keep him safe, I promise.”
The hug lingered for just a moment less than Twilight wished. She swirled her nose around for one last breath in the comfortingly smooth white fur, then plopped down onto the lounge with a great deal more weariness than she expected. The red upholstery exhaled a cloud of white feathers into the air, prompting Twilight to lift her forelegs and look at the shredded fabric under her hooves with wide eyes. Her desperate apology was cut off by Celestia’s magic as it swept the fluffy down out of the air, stuffing the feathery mass forcefully into the torn cushion.
“Don’t worry, I’ve been meaning to get rid of this garish crimson anyway. Perhaps I’ll have Rarity come and try to do something more fashionable.” Both princesses giggled as Celestia picked up a pillow and smashed it over the holes Twilight’s fidgeting had worn in the cloth.
Celestia levitated a trio of plush cushions down to the marble floor. “Why don’t we sit down here? That should make things feel a bit less formal.”
Twilight settled onto a pillow and watched the doors creak open in a field of yellow magic. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and pushed her misgivings out with the stale air. Flash said something, but she didn’t hear it. When she looked up, she saw that Celestia was smiling politely, that fake smile that she plasters on at state functions and boring galas.
That smile made her uncomfortable. As far back as she could remember, Twilight felt that Celestia had always been genuine with her, but she knew that it was important to put on a face for the public. The Saddle Arabian delegation didn’t need to know that Celestia’s coffee had gotten switched for decaf. But Flash was not an ambassador, and this was not official business. She understood the need for such a temporary deception, but she didn’t have to like it. And she did not like it.
It hurt her to see Flash’s face droop along with his ears when he saw Celestia’s plastic smile. Twilight was letting one pony she loved lie to another pony she loved, and that felt like betraying them both. Twilight caught the glint of extra moisture in his eyes when they made eye contact. He had to have seen the guilt on her face; he’d spent long enough just drinking in her eyes to be able to read her like a book. She almost grinned at the thought of being a book. His book.
She was his book of lies.
Twilight tried not to whimper as she looked around the room, desperately concentrating on anything to keep her eyes away from his. She knew the names of every pony in these paintings, the date of each battle or ceremony, the artist. She knew that these tapestries were extremely boring and Rarity would jump at the chance to supplant them with something more fashionable.
“Flash Sentry, as you may be aware, marriages in Twilight’s family have been a bit… troublesome.”
Twilight’s ears twitched at hearing Flash chuckle, and she allowed herself a bit of a smile. He’d been wounded in the battle with the changelings, but Celestia’s understatement was carefully calculated to ease tension. Thousands of years of practice must make perfect; a perfect wit and a perfect poker face. Twilight tried to avoid wondering what other manipulative skills Celestia must have perfected. She failed.
She thought back to their discussion about the ‘interview.’ How much of it had been planned out? Had she even been a part of the discussion, or did she just play the part that Celestia had scripted for her? Had she ever made any real choices in her life? Maybe Celestia—
No. Now she was just being silly. She turned her focus back to the interview. All those letters she had written to Celestia about Flash must have given the ancient ruler enough insight into his personality to approach the problem directly.
“In light of such events, I proposed a modest invasion of your privacy. She agreed that it was prudent.”
Twilight blushed a bit in shame for perhaps having shared too much information in her letters, and blushed a bit more, this time with pride for having given Celestia something to study for a change. And again in shame, for having given her permission for the invasive mind probe that was about to begin.
Princess Celestia leaned forward with her regally long neck. Flash closed his eyes as she tilted her long horn down toward his head. “Don’t worry my little pony, this will be over in a moment.” Twilight held her breath, hoping that his peachy fur didn’t disappear in a flash of green fire.
A tiny spark, like static electricity, passed between Celestia’s horn and Flash’s forehead.
Twilight waited, as nothing happened.
Flash’s silence filled the claustrophobically large room. Twilight wasn’t even sure that he was breathing. He hadn’t lifted his head since Princess Celestia had begun looking inside his mind. She wished she could see his eyes, she wished that she could leave her seat and comfort him, talk to him, tell him everything was going to be okay. In the silence, Twilight became acutely aware of her own breathing and how rapid it was. Taking a few deep lungfuls to slow her pulse, she just watched the quiet nothing that was happening.
Upon closer examination, Twilight realized that Flash was in fact moving. His facial expression had changed from apprehension to relief. Confusion, panic, relief, confusion. Terror.
She barely restrained herself from lunging forward to comfort the quietly panicking stallion. He had teased her about watching her emotions play across her face like a film when she got lost in her own thoughts, and now she was reluctantly watching him go through the same thing. She wondered if it scared him as much as she was scared now.
This was all part of Celestia’s plan, and there was nopony in the world that Twilight trusted more. A forced smile. He looked like he was about to cry. Confusion. An audible whimper broke the stillness of the room, its echoes making Twilight realize just how silent the room had been.
Twilight gritted her teeth and wished that Celestia could see the anger in her eyes. Yes, she was going to write a very stern letter. She chided herself for overreacting. She rolled her eyes, but her body was telling her to fight, to come to his rescue. Flexing her jaw and trying in vain to slow her breathing, she continued to watch Flash’s face cycle through fury, despair, and defiance. Determination. Mortification.
Duty.
A blush with a tiny grin. She mirrored this last expression of his, though he couldn’t see it. Maybe this was working. Any moment now, they would both open their eyes, and Twilight could hold him and tell him that it was all a dream, she would apologize for the few seconds of mendacity, and they could live happily ever after, without having to fear another untru—
Confusion. Anger. Duty.
Terror.
Confusion and an explosion. Twilight used a fetlock to shield her eyes from the blast, but a negative image of Celestia’s horn touching Flash’s grimacing face was burned into her vision. Somepony screamed, and Twilight briefly wondered if it was herself.
Her ears were ringing, casting the chaotic scene into a false silence as she frantically sat up and surveyed the room. Twilight spotted Flash leaning like a rag doll against a chaise, eyes closed and jaw slack. Celestia was climbing to her hooves slowly, as if finally suffering from long-overdue arthritis. Her head was waving as much as her mane should have been. The only illumination remaining in the room was the shower of sparks slowly drifting toward the floor, lending a strangely peaceful and romantic feeling to the scene of destruction.
Twilight dithered for a moment, her eyes darting from her mentor to her betrothed and back. In the second it took for her to choose Flash and gallop two steps to his side, the falling sparks had begun settling to the floor, extinguishing themselves against the cold marble. She cradled his head, burying her muzzle in his electric blue mane, grateful for the fact that she could feel his muscular chest expanding with each shallow breath.
Without pulling her nose away from his hair, Twilight squinted with minor concentration, reigniting the torches with a burst of magic. She blinked away the tears that threatened to drown her vision as she leaned back and used one hoof to brush away the stray hairs that had fallen over Flash’s face, breathlessly inspecting his forehead for any damage. Finding no burns or injuries, she frantically covered his face with kisses, using her lips to smooth out the fur that had been ruffled by the explosion.
After one more look at his blank expression, she softly pulled his head into her neck and held him there, rocking gently as she let her tears drip off of her chin and wet his ears. As she murmured her desperate apologies, Twilight became aware of a pastel rainbow worming its way into her peripheral vision. Kissing Flash’s forehead once more, she lay him down on the cushions that had been piled against the furniture by the blast, then turned to face the sun.
Celestia was silent. She had abandoned her poker face upon seeing Flash’s state, and was plainly frightened. The Princess of Friendship questioned whether she could remain friends with the Princess of Suspicion and Deception.
Twilight gathered up her trembling muscles and stood as regally as she could manage. She enunciated each letter as sharp as a knife: “What happened?”
With a glassy look in her eyes, Celestia spoke without moving. “I…” She licked her lips and looked down before making eye contact again with the furious princess. “H-he kicked me out. Out of his head.”
Celestia shook her head, pupils shrinking and growing as if trying to focus on some illusion that she couldn’t locate. “No, he… he fell in. He fell so deep into the illusion that I lost my grip on him. I couldn’t pull him back up to the surface.” She looked up at Twilight, pleading with her eyes. “He loves you so very much, my little pony, please let me get him back.”
“NO!” Twilight growled as she backed toward Flash. “I’ll do it myself. I’m not going to let you touch him.” She kept her horn aimed toward the surprised alicorn at the other end of the room as she began to backtrack toward her unconscious fiancé.
As Celestia cautiously stepped closer to the engaged couple, she put on a concerned face that made Twilight wonder if the emotion in her eyes was real or just another mask. “You can’t do that, Twilight, it would be a violation of trust. He would always wonder what you ha—”
“Violation of trust?” Twilight hissed. “And what was it when you did it? A lobotomy of kindness?”
“Please, Twilight, you know what I mean. An impartial third party—” She stopped herself, pinched her lips together, and breathed deeply with her eyes closed. When she opened her eyes, they were soft and wet, shocking Twilight with the genuine vulnerability they displayed. “Princess Twilight Sparkle, I have violated your trust. One day, soon I hope, you may forgive me; but right now, for Flash’s sake, I need you to trust me. One. More. Time.”
Celestia shifted her long neck to the side and shot an urgent glance around Twilight, to the drooling stallion. “Twili—”
“Not until you tell me — EXACTLY — what you did to him!” she screamed, spit flying from her lips.
“I lied to him!” Celestia cried urgently. “I gave him a choice, and he gave up everything for you to be happy. His wings, his freedom, even you, to give you a chance of happiness.”
“What lie did you tell him?” Twilight asked, the tension in her neck and eyes easing slightly as she grinned piteously at the sweet colt who loved her, before turning her scrutinizing glare back to Celestia.
“I didn’t give him the lie, he built it himself.” Celestia sat down and looked at her awkwardly-squirming hooves like a foal forced to confess to a cookie jar raid. She raised her eyes to Twilight, admitting, “He thought you were pregnant.”
“But, we never…” Twilight began.
“Yes, he pointed that out. It was a central point of his—”
“Why would he think that?” Twilight asked through gritted teeth.
Celestia closed her eyes, squeezing a tear out onto her dingy gray cheek as she whispered, “I suggested to his mind that the worst possible thing had happened, and let him build the dream from there. Then I gave him a choice.”
Twilight’s eyes grew wide as she began to hyperventilate. “Oh no, no no no no NO! Y-you can’t tell Flash to imagine the worst possible thing, because he will! Didn’t I write to you about the zombie fortress in the Crystal Empire? He has a very vivid imagination,” she explained. Her eyes darted left and right nervously, as she recalled, in a flood of words that came even faster than her sobbing breaths, “When I took him to the doctor after the big boxing match with Rainbow Dash, the doctor asked him to rate his pain on a scale of one to ten with ten being the worst pain imaginable and he turned pale and got this far away look in his eyes and said ‘one’ even though his nose was broken and bleeding everywhere and the doctor was confused and Flash just said that the doctor had an insufficient imaginat—”
A white hoof on her shoulder cut off the story, but Twilight could tell from the sympathetic smile on Celestia’s face that she got the idea. “Twilight, I’m sorry. I made a mistake. I need to pull him out of his dream so he can wake up. Please let me bring him back to you.”
Twilight shuffled backward, stumbling over the pillows that Flash was lying on. She looked down at him, then lowered herself to the floor and pulled him into an embrace. Her eyes met with Celestia’s, pleading silently for her to wake him up.
Celestia nodded wordlessly. Twilight closed her eyes and wrapped her forelegs under Flash’s chin, propping up his head. She inhaled deeply, the scent of his mane filling her with hope and terror. After a moment, a surge of subtle magic signaled the start of Celestia’s rescue effort.
Twilight waited for Flash to wake up.
______________________________________________
Flash sat up. There were no walls. The entire world was an endless desert; a black starless sky stretched over white dunes as far as he could see in all directions. He licked his lips, then spat out the blood-crusted feathers he’d pulled into his mouth.
“There you are!”
The voice filled Flash with anger, and guilt, and fear. He froze, wishing he had the courage to writhe his way down into the teeth and hide. Or even just to turn around and look at her.
She stepped closer, her light hoofsteps barely making any indentation in the loose surface. Flash could see the pastel rainbow of her mane as it preceded her approach. He felt her perfect, white feathers touching his own; gnarled, misshapen and bloody.
“Oh, Flash! This was never supposed to happen. It’s time for you to wake up.”
His view of the teeth dunes was obscured by a warm yellow glow, and he felt a tugging sensation. All of his senses experienced something like static as the world spoke to him in a foreign language. Meaningless shapes and colors resolved into paintings and cushions. There was gasping and talking. The smell of lavender, and somewhere there were scones coming out of an oven. Somepony had been holding him, but now he was being hoisted to his hooves and turned around.
Twilight was smiling at him. He turned his head and extended his wings, staring blankly at the feathers. In the corner of his eye, he could see the sky billowing in pastel blue, pink, and green. Twilight touched his face with a fetlock, and said, “Flash, I love you.”
Flash lifted his left forehoof, and tenderly placed it under her chin. His right hoof he pulled back, tensing the muscles in his abdomen. She looked confused, just for a second.
Her face was far more solid than he remembered. Somepony screamed. It was like punching a tree; actually, very much like the time he tried to buck an apple tree. Flash wondered whether he had actually hit the tree, probably at night when nopony was around, talking to himself and hearing voices, or if he had imagined the event along with the ponies in his memory.
It was difficult to see through the tears, but he could tell that she wasn’t on the ground. The floor disappeared, and Flash couldn’t walk to her. He tried to look down, but all around him was the same strange, golden glow. He blew out one of the candles, which lessened the glow enough to see that he had somehow been trying to walk on the couch.
Flash gingerly stepped off of the couch and looked around the living room. Luckily, Night Light and Twilight Velvet did not witness his little “couchwalking” episode. It’s one thing to ruin an expensive couch; it’s another thing entirely to ruin a comfortable couch with that much nostalgia in its fabric.
He looked up just in time to see Twilight disappear around the corner, toward Night’s study. One step forward and he was already in the study, dodging stacks of papers and precarious mountains of books, as he tried to catch up to Twilight. All Flash could see was an occasional sliver of purple between the obstacles, but no matter how fast he dodged and jumped, he could never get any closer.
Twilight got away. There was nothing he could have done. With a scream, Flash swept his foreleg across a desk in front of him, pushing a dozen piles of books and papers to the floor, uncovering a stovetop in front of him. He tried to find some pots, but none of the cabinet doors had handles.
Flash stood back up and looked for a way to turn on the burner beneath the big stock pot, but all of the knobs were tiny and impossible for use by hooves. Stupid unicorn kitchen.
Velvet reached out with her magic, and turned on the stove. Flash watched the oil shimmer from below, and slowly turn brown, then black as it heated and finally began smoking. The drawers had no mitts or hot pads, and the pot itself didn’t even have any handles. Stupid unicorn kitchen.
Smoke rose from Flash’s hooves as he tried to lift the pot of overheated oil from the stove. Velvet smiled. Flash pulled the pot into his chest and wrapped his forelegs around it, filling the kitchen with the overpowering scent of burning hair. “I’m so sorry, Velvet.” He heard a gasp from behind him as he tilted the pot over towards her.
Hot oil splashed on the floor. The foamy liquid washed over Flash’s hooves, cold and salty, sinking him an inch into the sand. He looked up. The moon hung in the sky, and in the sea, while the stars did their part to illuminate the beach.
The words echoed, returning as flat as the water itself. Flash silently glared at the moon and its glassy reflection, grinding his teeth for several moments before he turned to look at the princess. “I-I’ve never seen the ocean. Ocean.”
Luna smiled, and took a step toward Flash. “You have—”
“Ocean.”
Her smile didn’t falter, though she did pause for a moment. “You have a very good imagination.”
Flash turned away from her to watch his own hooves poke at the beach. Sand crunched quietly underneath Luna’s hooves as she approached Flash. She sat next to him, then tilted her head over and tried to make eye contact as he leaned lower and lower. With his nose touching the sand he said, “I’m huge.”
Luna remained as placid as the water. “You should visit the ocean sometime. Perhaps you and Twilight could take a trip.”
“Now. She’s here now!” Flash sat up sharply, then leaned back to let Luna see the miniature Twilight that was walking around his hooves. “Take a trip. Trip!” He punted Twilight across the sand and watched her tumble a few feet before picking her up by the tail and jiggling her to shake loose the sand.
Twilight quickly vanished as Luna pushed herself into Flash’s line of vision. “Flash! What has gotten into you? Why would you do that to Twilight?”
Flash shoved her out of his face, then clambered to his hooves and kicked up a small spray of sand. “Think. THINK! Where do you th-think all these teeth came from?” He illuminated his horn and lifted two more small Twilights, swinging them at each other so that their heads collided with a muted thump. They landed on the beach with tiny grunts, spitting out a few grains of sand each, then clambered to their hooves and sobbed. After watching for a moment Flash said, “It d-doesn’t hurt much. Personal. Not very personal…”
His words sank to a whisper, drawing Luna closer as her frown grew, until he abruptly sat up straight and declared in his best old-timey accent, “The moon's an arrant thief, and her pale fire she snatches from the sun.”
The moon’s reflection wavered in Luna’s wide eyes as she flared her nostrils. Before she could voice the questions in her throat, Flash turned to her. “You’re not very good at this. This. Sister. You. Nightmare. Named yourself Nightmare, but she, she is so much better than you. Did she get bored? Lapdog. Sent you to make nightmares. Nightmares. You, you…”
“I HAVE NOT BEGUN TO—” She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes, then inhaled through her nostrils before pushing the air out through her mouth and opening her eyes. “I don’t understand what’s going on, but I can’t imagine that Twilight would choose to be a with a stallion who—”
“And she didn’t. Didn’t. Didn’t choose me. Maybe you’re n-not so bad at this. At least you have the deee-decency to harass me in person.”
Luna pinched her eyebrows together and took a deep breath. “I was of the understanding that Twilight did in fact say ‘yes.’”
Every muscle in Flash’s body tensed at once. His breathing quickened as he began grinding his teeth. “She says ‘yes’ to a lot of stallions.”
“Flash, I don’t…” Luna sighed. “Princess Celestia had asked me to respect the privacy of your and Twilight’s dreams, so there is much context I am missing. If this nightmare is about fear of betrayal, then I can assure you that Twilight is a very virtuous mare.”
Flash snorted.
“I can’t imagine that she is even capable of infidelity. Why would you think otherwise?”
“Well, I’m n-not as SMART as she is. Smart. But th-the, figure, it’s proof, argue.” He looked up and for the first time made eye contact with Luna. “Pregnant.”
Luna smiled a smile that a million paranoid foals must have seen as reassuring. “Surely you don’t believe simple rumors? Where did you hear this despicable lie?”
“Your dear sweet sister noticed w-when we came to ask her blessing. Her, her. Noticed.”
One skeptical eyebrow inched its way up Luna’s forehead. “Princess Celestia told you that Twilight is pregnant?”
Flash didn’t so much nod as wobble without breaking eye contact.
Luna’s eyes became distant as the beach and ocean blurred slightly. After a moment her shoulders sagged, as if she was actually supporting the weight of the moon. “I-I can’t believe this. You must have been devastated. You and Celestia both. I’m so sor—”
“Happy! She seemed awfully happy to, when I, stupid, when I-I took the blame so, so she could have her perfect little princess. Stupid. Perfect. Forget me. Forgets.”
Flash turned toward Luna and stood up. Her head was still drooped toward the sand, eyes unfocused and distant, when she began speaking. “Even if Twilight did make a horrible mistake, I refuse to believe that—”
Luna looked up, and leapt backward with a gasp. The moon and the night sky had disappeared; in their place, Celestia’s mane filled the sky, illuminating the stubby remnants of Flash’s wings.
“This nightmare needs to end now. Flash, WAKE UP!”
Polished stainless countertops glistened coldly under the fluorescent lighting. Somepony bumped into the doors of a medicine cabinet, drawing Flash’s attention with a melodic tinkling of glass vials. He blinked several times, then laid his head back and looked toward the ceiling. Undulating stripes of sparkling pastels filled his vision, and in the center was her face, smiling down at him, her eyes a cruel mockery of compassion.
Straps dug into Flash’s legs as he tried to get up, holding him until half a dozen scrubs-clad guards could lunge forward, piling on top of him and immobilizing him completely. A glass bottle hit the floor and shattered. Moments later, the sharp odor of antiseptic made its way to Flash’s nose. Suddenly aware of the weight of the guards sitting on his wings, Flash began to hyperventilate. Somepony called out, “He’s awake, get the doctor!”
Flash screamed until there was no air left in his lungs. But the scream continued, fueled by the contents of his stomach, burning his throat and sinuses as he convulsed. He felt a sharp pinch in his neck, and waited for the slowly spreading warmth to reach his head.
A soft orange light accompanied the warmth on Flash’s face as he tried to place the tune. It was something from Night Light’s collection. Somewhere between a sonata and smooth jazz. A loud pop manifested itself just before the end of the song, right where Flash had dropped the needle all those years ago. That had been a memorable tongue lashing, and from then on Flash had been more careful when changing phonograph records. He’d never heard this song without the pop.
He opened his eyes to see the cloudless blue sky framed by dazzlingly white apartment buildings that lined either side of the street. Fuzz coated his tongue, and his teeth were dry. He cleared his throat and swallowed, wincing at the burning sensation in his throat. The bed creaked as he rolled over, then the room continued to spin around him.
“Hey, Flash. It’s good to see you awake.” A burly earth pony was sitting on the floor next to the bed, with bits of cheese stuck to the corners of his mouth. He lifted a plate of vegetables congealed in a mass of grease, slid it onto the nightstand, then wiped his mouth along the entire length of his foreleg. “We heard that you’ve been through some tough stuff. Since this morning?”
Three other familiar faces were looking back at him from around the room. A pale blue unicorn looked at the half-eaten carrot in the crook of his hoof, then discarded it and used his magic to pull a fresh, whole carrot from the next room. He held it out to Flash. “Sorry to eat your food, but we missed lunch waiting for you to wake up.”
Flash looked at the carrot just inches away from his face. Its surface was a bit wrinkly, though it was freshly washed. The smell hit his nose and caused his stomach to growl, sending a chuckle rippling through the room. After a moment of staring at the carrot, Flash turned his face away and looked out the window once more. “Wh—” he cleared his throat again “—what are you all doing here?”
The carrot guy, whose name Flash couldn’t remember, spoke up. “We got the day off guard duty so we could chill in your apartment, hang out, maybe help you through some stuff. Cele—”
A bagel hit him in the ribs. The lanky orange stallion who had thrown the bagel cleared his throat. The unicorn glanced at him and nodded, then turned back to Flash. “Our CO told us that you may be confused and or violent when you woke up. Something about a terrible nightmare? So what's up?”
Flash leaned against the window, letting the glass warm his forehead. Colts and fillies with saddlebags had filled the streets, and were trotting past in small groups. Some laughed and played, running circles around their friends, while others disappeared into the apartment buildings. “I wonder why s-she lets me see th… Why she lets me see the sky.”
Lanky Orange and Carrot Unicorn looked at each other, then both turned to Mister Casserole, who shrugged and looked up at Flash. “Not let you see the sky? What’s she gonna do, put you in the dungeon?”
Twilight snickered, then winked at Flash, covering her muzzle with one hoof.
“Of course I’m in the dungeon,” Flash muttered as he threw a glare at Twilight. “The sky. She never let me dream it before. Sky. T-try. Trying to confuse me. Again. But I know, know why I’m here. Here. I’m here—”
“Flash, buddy.” Mister Casserole had his hoof on Flash’s shoulder, and both of his companions had taken a step back. “You’re awake now. This isn’t a dream.”
“I have wings.” Flash opened his wings and wiggled the feathers, accidentally brushing against the other stallion’s hoof.
Casserole blushed and pulled his hoof back. “Yes, um, they’re, uh, very nice… I guess…”
Lank and Carrot snickered together for a moment before Carrot said, “Don’t worry, he’s far more eloquent about the wings on mares. He can go on, and on, and on.” He fluttered his eyelashes and waved one hoof around, flapping it like a wing.
“Hey! I like mares’ wings! Nothing wrong with that. They’re just so elegant…”
Carrot snorted. “Tee likes wings, and occasionally the mares they’re attached to.”
Flash had stopped listening to their banter, just muttering to himself with increasing volume. “D-do you, you, you think I’m stupid? I am. I was. Love m-makes you stupid! But I’m better now. B-better. Better. Strong. DREAMING!” The three stallions stared at him. “N-not real. None of you has aged a day!”
Lanky Orange said, “I sure hope not. I’d be in sorry shape if I aged a whole day every four hours…”
“I HAVE—” Flash bit down on the joint of one wing, then ripped out a mouthful of feathers “—WINGS!”
Both earth stallions jumped on top of Flash while the unicorn took a step backwards and used magic to help hold him still. Flash didn’t struggle while they spoke calming words, but he spit feathers into the air and sobbed, “Proof, proof, wake up, I’ll wake up, no more lies, wake up…”
______________________________________________
Twilight waited for Flash to wake up.
He wasn’t really asleep, not technically. It was more like a coma. She was holding him tightly enough that she would have known if even one of his muscles had twitched since Celestia went back into his head, and he was barely even breathing. She could feel the heat radiating off of his forehead, though he wasn’t sweating. That was a bad sign, but she was afraid that a cooling spell might somehow interfere with whatever delicate work that Celestia was doing.
Twilight took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Celestia was drooping; her wings were no longer held to her sides, and her face was sagging. After several moments, Celestia took another shallow breath.
This was supposed to have been a nice brunch. The smell of scones was drifting into the room, and Twilight had no doubt that the cucumber sandwiches and tea were being prepared as well. It’s not like Twilight wasn’t used to her life being interrupted by some unfortunate event crashing through town, but those events were usually precipitated by some villain or ancient evil creature. Occasionally Pinkie.
Celestia gasped deeply and dragged her head upward as if pulling a weed out by the roots, then stumbled backward and fell to the floor. Twilight felt Flash’s ribs expand as he took a deep breath, then began to stir. She lifted him to his hooves and ignored whatever it was that Celestia mumbled between great, ragged breaths.
Twilight reached out and turned Flash around so she could see his face. His eyes were vacant, unfocused and empty. She smiled and reached a hoof out toward his face, but he turned away and looked at his wing instead. Behind him, Celestia pushed herself to her hooves and slowly approached the couple as Twilight reached out to touch his face and turn his attention back to her.
“Flash, I love you.” There would be time to explain everything, but that was the most important thing to communicate right now. As long as he knew that, Twilight was sure that everything would work out.
Flash blinked several times before giving a tiny, sad smile. He lifted his left forehoof and placed it tenderly under her chin. A wave of relief washed over Twilight, just knowing that he was still in there, and still loved her. Flash lifted his right hoof into the air, tensing the muscles in his abdomen like he was about to sneeze. Twilight remembered that sometimes ponies would sneeze when exposed to a bright light after being in darkness, but his face didn’t look like he was about to sneeze so much as cry.
Then he hit her.
Twilight was too shocked to dodge the blow. The punch hurt, but not as much as the idea that he would want to hit her. Celestia screamed. Twilight stumbled backwards, watching Flash advance toward her and become progressively more blurry. Tears burned her eyes, returning as quickly as she could blink them away.
Celestia lifted Flash in her magic, halting his advance, though he continued to walk in the air. The golden glow of magic flared briefly and Flash went limp again, letting his eyes flutter closed. Celestia lowered him gently to the chaise lounge and turned to face Twilight, but avoided eye contact. “GUARDS!”
Two unicorns in polished golden armor silently appeared in separate corners of the room, and galloped the few steps to stand by Celestia’s side. Twilight looked at the guards in confusion as Celestia began to speak. “You, take him to the infirmary and have him restrained. You, wake Princess Luna at once and tell her to enter his dreams as soon as possible.” They both nodded, and one disappeared with a blast of pink magic while the other levitated Flash and trotted out the door, kicking it closed behind him.
The thump echoed until it was consumed by the ringing in Twilight’s ears. Celestia reached out to Twilight with soot-stained wings. Twilight shouted wordlessly and pushed her back with a blast of telekinesis, shaking the entire room and knocking a painting to the floor. The gilded wood frame shattered upon impact, sending the gleaming shards skittering across the marble between the two princesses. The canvas, a diplomatic scene of Celestia settling a dispute among epaulette-clad generals, teetered forward and finally fell on its face, raising a small cloud of dust.
Twilight turned to the door and kept staring at it, through it, as if expecting Flash to waltz back into the room. With each exhale, she slumped a few inches closer to the floor until she could see her breaths condensing on the cool marble. “Why… Why would he hit me?” She looked up to her mentor. “I thought you said he loved me? That he gave up everything for me. Why would he… if… What is that supposed to mean? What did you do to him?”
Celestia looked up at the door where Twilight had been staring, then rubbed her eyes with a fetlock. “Maybe now isn’t the best time. I need rest, and I’m not exactly certain on the details. Perhaps it would be better to have a conversation once he wakes up.”
Twilight wiggled her nose and ignored the twinge of pain. “He doesn’t seem interested in talking.” She sniffed and wiped at the tears that she was pretending Celestia couldn’t see.
Celestia pretended not to notice the tears as she glanced to the floor and back up. Twilight couldn’t classify the look on her face, but there was pain in it.
“I never would have thought he could hit me. He’s not that kind of stallion. Not even if he thought… If he… If he believed your lie.” She bit her lip, squeezed her eyes closed, and took a breath before looking up at Celestia again. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
“There wasn’t supposed to be. He was supposed to make a choice, and then I would wake him up and we would all have tea.” She shook her head and sighed, then looked to the door where Flash had disappeared moments ago.
“Tell me. What did you ask him? What happened to him?” Twilight told herself that bad news is bad news. Subjective evaluation of the contents of information changes neither the unfortunate event itself nor its negative consequences. However, that information does help the recipient prepare for or ameliorate the situation in question, which means that bad news is a good thing, because otherwise a pony would be ill-equipped in his or her ignorance. That knowledge didn’t help her feel any bigger than the filly who hid behind a chair in the hospital waiting room while Velvet cried softly on Night Light’s shoulder. But this wasn’t old age, it wasn’t natural, and it wasn’t something that every foal just had to accept as part of life.
“It was his idea; the punishment he chose to bear for you. When he pointed out that he could not have been the father, the pregnancy became evidence of infidelity. He could have chosen to stay with you in forgiveness, or advance his career and standing by abandoning you to the consequences of your actions. He surprised me with a third choice.
“He explained that, since you had chosen this other stallion, you couldn’t be happy with him. Your hypothetical relationship would have been built not on trust and love, but on your debt to him. He was right, of course. He demanded to accept the punishment in your place, leaving you free to pursue your happiness.”
Twilight narrowed her eyes and set her jaw. “What punishment was that, exactly?”
“You have to remember, this is not a punishment I would ever inflict upon you, or any other pony. This is only his worst fear, much like your vision in King Sombra’s dark mirror.”
The similarity had not escaped Twilight’s notice, and neither did the guilty wrinkle that flitted like a pegasus’ shadow over Celestia’s brow before she continued.
“Because substitutionary punishment is not part of our justice system, Flash had to confess to a crime that excused you from any responsibility for your pregnancy.”
Twilight’s eyebrows rose in proportion to her eyes widening. “Oh.”
“I suppose he must have been fixated on the loss of your wings, because the punishment he chose was Grounding. He must have been reading too much ancient histor—”
“Wait. So he’s spent the last half-hour thinking he was going to get his wings chopped off to protect me?”
“No, he—” Celestia stopped and blinked several times. “H-half an hour? I thought…” She slowly sat down, then cleared her throat. “Time passes differently in dreams. Have you ever nodded off while studying, only to wake moments later, though you dreamed of days passing?”
Twilight sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Are you saying that he’s been dreaming for days? What happened in there, in your lie?”
Celestia licked her lips. “When I found him, he had already… His wings had already been removed, and he had been in a cell for some time.”
Twilight felt a muscle in her neck twitch as she gritted her teeth. “Some time? How long, exactly?”
“I can’t be sure. My sister was always better at dreamwalking; I was never very—”
Her words were cut off by the crackle of splinters underhoof as Twilight stomped across the room toward her. Twilight clenched and unclenched her jaw several times while glaring at Celestia, then pinched her eyes shut and began rubbing her temple with one hoof. “Let me get this straight. You performed a spell – which you know to be dangerous – even though you knew that you’re not very good at it?”
“That’s not…” Celestia shook her head, then looked at Twilight from under drooping eyelids. “I misspoke. I haven’t slept in days. It’s not, I mean—”
“You haven’t slept in days? What’s he going to be like when he wakes up?” Twilight crossed her eyes and faked a sudden realization. “Oh, that’s right! Violent and deranged!”
Regal wings slumped to the floor, taking Twilight’s heart with them. “I’m sorry, Twilight. I made a mistake, but I’m sure th—”
“You’re not.” Twilight shoved Celestia with both forehooves.
“Supposed.” She stomped forward before shoving Celestia again.
“To make.” Tears streamed freely from Twilight’s face as she gave one final shove that knocked Celestia over backwards.
“MISTAKES!”
Twilight dropped into a limp pile on the floor and sobbed, interspersing her words with sniffles. “You’re supposed to be wise. You’re supposed to have a plan, and no matter what happens it always works out because I’m your most faithful… Your most faithful student, and I always know that you trust me to do what’s right, because you know.” She sniffed, then whispered, “Because you’re perfect.”
Celestia sat up and took a deep breath. “Twilight, I never claimed to be perfect.”
“But you were! You were perfect. You always knew what was best for me, and even if I didn’t like it, I knew it would work out for the best. You knew about Nightmare Moon, and you knew I would find friends and you let the changeling queen beat you and you sent me to the Crystal Empire, and you let me face Tirek, and it was all because you knew. Because you had faith in me.”
“Oh, Twilight,” Celestia said, reaching out to pull Twilight into a hug.
Twilight really needed a hug, but it needed to be genuine. The thought of accepting a hug from somepony who didn’t trust her, the thought that every one of those big warm fluffy white feathery hugs was nothing but a lie… She felt something take hold of her guts and twist. The noise that came out of her was like a groan that turned into a sob that turned into a scream. She flailed wildly with her magic, forcing Celestia to half-stumble, half-slide backwards.
“B-but you’re not perfect,” Twilight sobbed. “You really didn’t believe me about Nightmare Moon, did you? You didn’t trust me. You didn’t trust me about Cadance at her wedding.” She climbed to her hooves and sniffed, wiping her muzzle with a fetlock. “I… I devoted my life to you, but you never trusted me.”
“Twilight, that’s not true—”
“You had invisible guards HIDING in here, the whole time!”
“You know how dangerous changelings can be, or any number of other creatures that could impersonate a pony.”
“But that’s NOT what you were worried about!” Twilight squeezed her head between her hooves before dragging them down the sides of her face, tugging on her mane as she vocalized something between a growl and a sob. “Y-you just didn’t trust me to actually pick somepony who loves me.”
Celestia sighed, and tried to smile. “Twilight, please try to see things from my point of view. You’ve never been involved in any kind of romance before, and now you’re engaged to the first stallion who’s shown any interest in you? For a normal pony, that would be cause for a serious conversation with your parents and friends. For a new princess, it’s certainly cause for suspicion.”
Except for Twilight’s teeth grinding, the room was silent for a moment. “I guess I’m lucky that this hasn’t happened to my other friends. Besides Spike, those girls I met in Ponyville were my first real friends. Yes, the first five ponies I met in Ponyville are now my best friends. Doesn’t that seem suspicious to you?”
“Twili—”
“Maybe you should tell Fluttershy that I torture baby ducklings. You know, just in case.”
“You kno—”
“Or tell Pinkie that I hate her parties. She’s probably evil.”
Celestia sat motionless, her jaw set, staring at a trembling Twilight with hard eyes. Several silent breaths passed. “Twi—”
“Tell Applejack that I only like pears. She probably deserves it.”
Celestia sat straight and rigid, leaning back with her chin in the air, looking down at Twilight over her nose. Her eyebrows twitched upwards slightly as she spoke. “Are you finished?”
She wasn’t. She was just too angry to think of anything suitably cruel yet clever to propose doing to her other friends.
“Good. I made a mistake, Twilight. But that doesn’t change the fact that I acted out of concern for you. I don’t blame you for expressing frustration physically in your initial shock, but I’m disappointed in your little tantrum—”
“No. NO! You do NOT get to be disappointed in me. Not any more.” She jabbed an accusing hoof at Celestia. “YOU were wrong, not me. You were wrong, so, so many times. Y-you’re like a cat. Every time you fall on your face, you get up and act like you meant to do that. And everypony believes it.” Twilight sat down hard. “Just like I believed it.”
“I’m sorry Twilight, but I’m going to end this conversation right now, because I’m too tired, and I’m saying hurtful things that I don’t mean. Just know that I am very proud of you, in so many ways. We will speak again when… After I have rested.”
Twilight’s thoughts echoed in the hollow praise. Celestia’s words of encouragement meant as little as her disappointment had a few seconds before. Both comments stung, but only because their lack of impact revealed an emptiness that undermined the foundation of her life. “I…”
Celestia had already left.
The familiar feeling of a failed test crept up around Twilight’s shoulders like a discarded cloak that refused to be left in the mud. Every incorrect quiz and missed question since kindergarten rushed into the front of her mind, along with the hundreds of replays she constructed for each one. Logically, she told herself that it was a way to reinforce the correct answers after the fact, but she couldn’t avoid the conclusion that it was also an attempt to overwrite the painful memories of each failure; attempts to forget the disappointment from ponies of authority whom she respected.
It didn’t work, of course. No matter how many times she remembered double-checking her math, or being more careful to write legibly, or slowing down at the risk of not being the first to complete the quiz, the most vivid memory of them all was proudly announcing to her entire third grade class that thirty-two times three was seventy-six. Her hoofwriting had improved considerably within days of that incident, but every time she put quill to parchment or chalk to blackboard she could feel colts and fillies rolling their eyes behind her.
No matter how many nines she didn’t scribble illegibly into a seven, no matter how many magic spells or potion equations she completed successfully due to her organized and legible script, she could never forget the embarrassment.
“WHAT did you DO?” Twilight screamed in a Royal Ponyville Voice that would have made Nightmare Moon jealous if the last word hadn’t cracked. She stood facing Celestia, hooves planted wide, head down, snorting through her flared nostrils. Her wings were spread outward in aggression, a vestigial instinct to make her appear larger and more dangerous to an opponent.
Celestia extended her royal wings and pitched them downward, lowering her chest to the floor, bowing in capitulation to her former student. After a tense moment, Celestia opened her eyes and looked up from the floor. She slowly began to rise. “Twilight, you were right the whole time.”
And sometimes that dusty old mare found out exactly how much smarter the little purple filly was than everypony else in the classroom. Of course, that never happened, and it would have been incredibly rude, not to mention arrogant. Twilight was certain that, back in third grade, she was not in fact smarter than Mrs. Abacus. She still felt guilty over that particular daydream.
But Twilight hadn’t failed a test. Celestia had. Twilight hadn’t done anything wrong at all.
Except agree to the test. She should have said no. She should have been more firm. She should have stood up for what she knew to be right. Just like Shining Armor’s wedding, she should have gone with her instinct and insisted. When had that ever worked against Celestia, though? Twilight had insisted upon the correct date and time for Nightmare Moon’s prophesied return, and Celestia had ignored everything, even though she actually knew far more about the situation than Twilight had.
That didn’t make any sense. If Celestia remembered banishing Luna, then she did know that Nightmare Moon would be returning. So it actually was a test.
Maybe this whole thing been a test. Twilight was supposed to stand her ground, stand up to Celestia to prove that… To prove what? To prove that she trusted her instincts. To prove that she didn’t listen to bad advice, even from trusted sources. To prove that she was her own mare, that she didn’t depend on Celestia any more, that she was mature and responsible and ready to lead.
Twilight had failed the test.
Wait. Celestia would never be that cruel to any pony on purpose. Though, an hour ago, Twilight was also certain that Celestia couldn’t have been that cruel through incompetence, either. Still, even if Flash had just been asleep and no actual torture had occurred, Twilight couldn’t imagine that having Flash punch her in the face would be some sort of punishment for failing the test. Unless he was just that angry that Twilight had betrayed him by allowing Celestia to conduct the test. But that wasn’t consistent with his character either.
It wasn’t a test. Celestia really had been that incompetent.
Celestia jumped backward with a flap of her massive wings to avoid the telekinetic blast that slammed into the marble floor at her hooves. A chunk of stone the size of a stallion cracked free from the mountain, shaking the foundations of the palace. With a twist of her neck, Twilight hurled the boulder into the fireplace and poured her rage into it until it had been reduced to magma that flowed over the stones around the hearth. The liquid rock became more viscous as it cooled from an incandescent orange to a dull red. The pillows nearest Twilight’s hooves began to smoke, incense at the altar of her rage.
Celestia approached submissively, penitently, avoiding any sudden movements. She sent a concerned glance toward the lava flow that had mercifully been halted by the cool fire bricks before it could ignite the furniture. “Twilight?”
Twilight looked up, her unfocused eyes staring through Celestia. In a cold, even voice, Twilight conveyed pure facts, unquestionable truths of the universe. “Fix him. Fix him, or I swear on every sunrise past and every sunrise to come, I will lock you in the sun, and if any star dares to help you escape, you will find that the world hates you and fears you more than Nightmare Moon ever had been.”
“The lava is a nice touch.”
Twilight looked up, her eyes blinking back their focus. “What?”
Princess Luna stepped farther into the room, and motioned toward the fireplace with her eyes. “It brings a certain warmth to the room.” She stepped around the hole in the floor, let her eyes sweep over the destruction for a moment, then spoke again. “I never was a fan of the white marble.”
Twilight followed Luna’s eyes over the very real damage from her temper tantrum. “I-I’m sorry. I must have gotten carried away.”
Luna used one hoof to lift up the edge of the fallen canvas, peeked at it for a moment, then said, “Hmm.” She looked up at Twilight. “It must have been quite the fight.”
“It wasn’t a fight. Yes, I was a bit snippy at the end, but the only thing I did wrong was listen to her stupid advice.”
“I see.” She let the painting fall back to the floor. “What was that you were saying when I came in?”
“I, um. I just let my imagination run away with me.” Twilight decided not to mention that the molten boulder had likewise been unintentional.
“I’m fairly certain that I heard you invoke my name while threatening to lock my sister in the sun. I can’t say that I haven’t shared that feeling on a few occasions, but I am surprised to hear it coming from you.”
“I wasn’t serious.” Not entirely, anyway. “Sometimes, I run through an argument in my head, so I don’t say something hurtful when it happens for real.” Or because she’d never had the guts to stand up to Celestia in real life.
Luna raised an eyebrow. “And Flash Sentry’s problems were caused by Celestia?”
Twilight responded with an eyebrow of her own and squinted as she leaned forward to answer, though her response sounded almost like a question. “Yes.”
“Hmmm.” Silence stood unchallenged for several seconds while Luna’s tight lips twitched with the half-formed thoughts that passed behind her eyes like wispy clouds over the moon. “I am confused and ill-informed. I presume that your betrothed is mistaken in his belief that you have cheated on him?”
“Yes!” That was a bit louder than Twilight had intended. She cleared her throat and lowered her voice to a reasonable volume. “So nopony told you what happened?”
“I was awakened with an urgent request from my sister. I saw the terrible things that Flash Sentry was dreaming. And I saw in his memories things that made no sense. One thing that was particularly clear was a memory of you, bowing your head in silent shame as Celestia told him that you are pregnant. You did not object or protest when he explained that he could not be the father. My heart was broken to see your betrayal of two good ponies who love you very much. Now, Twilight, please explain to me why this is not the case, so that we can avoid any further—” she poked at a fragment of gilded wood, then wearily looked at Twilight “—drama.”
“Do you trust me?”
Luna looked at Twilight and took a deep breath. “I’m choosing to trust your character over what I’ve seen through Flash’s eyes, and the words of my own sister. Does that answer your question?”
Twilight sighed. “That’s not what I’m asking. Nevermind.” She pulled another chaise lounge away from the still-glowing lump of rock in the fireplace, brushed off some dust with her hoof, and motioned for Luna to sit next to her. “We were just going to ask for her blessing…”
______________________________________________
“... and that’s when you walked in.” Twilight rubbed her the tears off of her cheeks for what felt like the hundredth time before looking up at Luna.
Luna held up a hoof to cut off Twilight’s frantic outburst. “There was more that I saw in Flash’s memories, and now that I know the truth, I can make more sense of it all. But first…” She tilted her head toward the door and opened it a crack with her magic.
Two guards poked their heads inside the room and looked to the princess for direction. “Yes, your highness?”
“Send a pegasus guard to Twilight’s parents’ house. Tell the two guards who are already there that my previous orders are rescinded, but that her parents are to be brought here as quickly as possible. We will wait for them in the garden tea room. Oh, and please try not to alarm them.” She shifted her eyes to the other guard. “Tell the kitchen that this room is indisposed, and to serve Twilight’s engagement brunch in the garden tea room.”
As the guards hoofsteps echoed down the hallway, Twilight raised one hoof, as if to call for a point of order. “You sent guards to my parents’ house?”
Luna sat straight, avoiding Twilight’s gaze. “When I jumped into Flash’s dream, he was, ah, trying to hurt your mother. I naturally believed that his anger was due to your betrayal, so I sent guards to protect your parents in the event that he decided to take action on those impulses.”
“M-my mom?”
“Don’t worry, Twilight, I’m sure your family is safe.” She reached a wing out to Twilight, though she didn’t lean in for a hug. “But regarding your fiancé, I’m afraid I have bad news.”
Twilight pointed at her own face with a hoof. “This is my ‘not-surprised’ face. I knew it was bad from the coma, and from the punching.” The look on Luna’s face told Twilight what she already knew. “I’m sorry, I’ve had a bad day. I’d love to learn anything you can tell me about Flash.”
“Now that I know he was in an illusion, his memories make more sense. His wings were cut off, and he was sealed in a cell.” Twilight nodded. “But he wasn’t in the illusion for a few days, Twilight. It was several years, at least.”
All of the air left the room. Luna said something that echoed tinnily in Twilight’s ears. Luna finally pulled her into a hug that was surprisingly warm. When she was able to breathe again, Twilight said, “He’s spent the last several years thinking that I cheated on him?”
Luna leaned back and steadied Twilight with her hooves. “When I heard him accuse you of infidelity, I didn’t believe it. Even after I had proof straight from Celestia’s mouth, I didn’t believe it in my heart. I couldn’t.” Her smile was genuine and her confidence softened Twilight’s frown. “Flash knows you far better than I do. I’m sure that part of him knows the truth.”
“Thanks. That means a lot.” Twilight’s eyes wandered aimlessly over blank walls for a moment. “What else do I need to know? Is he going to be okay?”
Luna’s deep breath did nothing to reassure Twilight. “I’m not sure. He carries a lot of anger, but also guilt. For what, I don’t know. But there was definitely love in his heart. In any case, he was very confused and is likely to remain so for some time after he returns to the real world.”
“Like if Spike hadn’t pulled me out of Sombra’s door, and I had lived in that nightmare for years… After I came back to reality, I’m not sure if I could even look at Celestia again.” Twilight bit her lip in thought. “He’s going to hate me, isn’t he?”
“I wish I could tell you otherwise. We have a difficult task ahead of us, to bring him back to the world.”
Twilight looked down at her hooves. She’d torn a hole in this lounge, too. She poked a hoof deeper into the stuffing, listening to the plush fabric tear apart, thread by thread.
Both mares looked up when they heard the knock at the door. Luna opened the door with a glow of deep blue magic, and a gray-mustachioed unicorn walked in with a scroll floating behind him. “Your highnesses.”
Luna nodded politely. “Kibitz. How is my sister?”
The stallion wiggled his nose to settle his glasses. “Princess Celestia has retired for the, uh, day. Or three. I’ve brought her itinerary for the next few days; she said you two would have no problem managing her responsibilities while she is recovering. Princess Luna, you will obviously be raising the sun. Princess Twilight, you will be taking on a share of court duties, but most importantly you need to prepare for next week’s summit with the delegation from the Yang Dynasty.”
Twilight’s eyes widened. “The Yang Dynasty?”
Luna smiled and nodded. “So you’ve heard of them? It was only this week that they even made contact with the outside world, and they requested to meet with us. The Long Wyrms of the far East had faded into legend even before I went to the moon.”
“You can’t say that!” Twilight put a hoof on Luna’s shoulder. “It’s offensive. I know you meant ‘wyrm’ with a ‘Y,’ but they consider the worm to be the lowest form of creature - an insult. At least it was, twelve hundred years ago.”
Kibitz cleared his throat. “I see you have the matter well in hoof. I’ll leave you to your business. Princess Twilight, best wishes for your fiancé.” He stepped smartly out the door and closed it quietly with his magic.
After a moment of thought, Luna turned toward Twilight again. “How did you learn of the Lóng? I know you love your books, but I didn’t think any books that old could possibly still be in circulation.”
“Well, that one was in your library in the old castle. Thank goodness for enchanted bookshelves!” Twilight allowed herself a little giggle before she sighed and looked back to Luna. “Is he still asleep?”
“I woke him up when I… When I saw his wings. I went to see him in the infirmary, but Celestia had been there when he woke up, and he was so terrified that the doctors had to sedate him. It would be best if, when he woke up, he didn’t see Celestia. I suggest some of his close friends from the guard, stallions whom he will trust, but who can restrain him if necessary.”
“Of course.” Twilight didn’t feel like seeing Celestia, either.
Luna stood and extended a wing to Twilight. “Let’s go to brunch, and see your parents. We can work through this together.”
“Okay, as long as we’re done before he wakes up. I think I should be there for… him…”
She was stopped by a sad smile from Luna. “Twilight, I’m sorry. I don’t think it will be any different this time. It would be best if you give him time to sort out what’s real before he sees you again.”
“I…” Twilight wanted nothing more than to hold him, to be the one to tell him that everything would be okay. Her nose disagreed. “That’s probably wise.”
______________________________________________
Flash heard the door to his apartment close softly, and the stallions’ voices retreat down the hall. Without taking his eyes off of the window, he brought a wing around to gnaw at the itch, the one they wouldn’t let him get to. The last edge of the sun shriveled and evaporated above the horizon, taking the light with it and leaving Flash looking at his own reflection instead of the street below.
“A dream. All a dream.” His own voice sounded strange. Too loud.
“Don’t worry, sweetie.” Twilight sat down next to him on the bed and brushed a feather off of the corner of his mouth. “You’ll wake up soon.”
Flash looked up from the mismatched rug they were all sharing in the gazebo-like, and appropriately named, Sun Room. It had obviously been brought in to cover up the giant solar crest that still poked out from under its tasseled edges. Luna was as inscrutable as ever, Twilight was faking a smile, and both were waiting for him to reply. He cleared his throat. “That’s nice.”
Twilight frowned. “‘That’s nice?’”
Luna stretched out a wing to Twilight’s shoulder and gave Flash a small but genuine smile. “What she means is that we thought this would be good news for you.”
“They. I know how th-this game works. You give me hope, and th-when, when I believe everything is okay, then, then you break my heart again.” He looked up and counted a dozen wispy clouds slowly making their way across the blue sky, then lowered his eyes back to the crisscrossing maze patterns woven into the fine wool.
“Flash, sweetie, you’re awake now! Everything actually is okay.” Twilight’s ears laid back along her head, and her voice dropped into that lower pitch she always used to correct herself. “Which, of course, you don’t believe, because you’ve spent years hallucinating increasingly elaborate escape fantasies.”
Without looking up, Flash whispered, “Top of the class.”
“Okay. You’re going to laugh, but I made a list.” She smiled and watched his face for a breath’s time, but he didn’t laugh. “Sorry. Here’s a list of reasons that what you saw could never have happened. Are you ready?”
“Actually,” said Flash as he looked up and made eye contact. “How about I tell you why?”
Twilight let the notepad in her magic sink to the ground. “I, um.... okay?”
Flash settled his flank firmly on the carpet and sat up straight, curling his deep blue tail around his legs. “One: You are Twilight Sparkle. You don’t break the rules, and when you do, ponies literally write it down in history books. You are an ascended princess, a former student of Princess Celestia. As such, you must have mastered self control. But most importantly, you are Twilight Sparkle. You are sweet, and kind, and loyal, and honest, and generous, and scatterbrained, and entirely wonderful.”
The look on her face made him smile. Her soft eyes nearly melted, and her lower lip trembled as he finished speaking. But the smile on Twilight’s face evaporated as he started again.
“Two: Princess Celestia would never imprison and torture an innocent pony, even if it was to protect you.”
“Actually, that’s not—”
Luna placed a wing on Twilight’s shoulder and gave a subtle shake of her head. Twilight narrowed her eyes and turned back to Flash. “If you knew it was a dream all along, then why…”
“‘It was a dream all along’ is definitely not up there with the better plot devices. It’s s-such a nice explanation. Wraps everything up. Bow on top. Forget it all, move on. The hero gets everything. Wins. B-but I’m not the hero, I’m…”
Twilight leaned forward and stretched out a hoof across the rug. “But you are the hero. You’re my hero. You gave up everything for me.”
Flash shook his head, making his uncombed mane bounce. “She put me in a place, a place, a place where I could think about my crime. My… My weakness.” He licked his lips and looked up at Twilight with half a smile. “When we met, I knew that a guy like me c-could never deserve to be with somepony like you. I built, I lived in a fantasy where it happened. Happened. And when I, I lost sight of what was real, I hurt you. T-the real you. Hurt. Hurt.”
“Wh…” Twilight’s lips remained frozen in their pursed state while her eyebrows worked through her questions. She turned to look at Luna, who was too busy brooding to make eye contact, before turning back to Flash. “S-she convinced you that…”
Luna squinted and looked Flash in the eyes. “And you feel guilty for hurting the real Twilight?”
A sob caught in Flash’s throat as he squeezed his eyes shut and nodded.
Twilight looked at Flash, then turned her head to Luna. After a moment of thought, she quietly said, “I thought you were supposed to go into his dreams last night and figure out exactly what he’s been through?”
Luna shifted her eyes toward Twilight without moving her head. “And provide therapy, yes. But he has not slept since his friends left his apartment.”
Twilight’s sparkling eyes searched his face for several seconds before she said, “How can you not be tired? Celestia still hasn’t woken up!”
Flash shuffled his hooves on the rug before replying. “No matter how bad things get, I a-all-always know one thing.” He looked up. “Whenever I close my eyes, things get worse. I know you’re not real, but I don’t want to hurt you any more than, than I already… Already have.”
“Flash, sweetie. I don’t mean to impugn your masculinity, but you couldn’t physically hurt me if you wanted to. Not only could I teleport away at a moment’s notice, but I’ve been literally punched through a mountain by a gigantic evil… goat-monkey thing. You punched me yesterday, but that hurt my feelings more than anything else. Besides, I’ve got a number one reason, too. You’re my Flash Sentry, and I know you couldn’t hurt me because you’re you. I know that you’d never do anything to hurt me.”
“Uhhhh…” Flash pinched his eyebrows together. There was something he was forgetting. This was like the calculus exam he had taken in the middle of a raging head cold. By the time he had one piece figured out, the rest of the problem had retreated into a soupy fog, swirling just out of reach of memory.
The two princesses conversed, but Flash ignored their voices as he pinched his eyes shut and tried to concentrate on anything but the itching. His wings fluttered briefly before he locked them back to his sides. They itched so badly, and he felt a tickle every time Twilight tried to hide another nervous glance at his sparse and macerated feathers. He gritted his teeth and stared back at her, trying to draw her eyes away from his wings.
“Flashy!”
He jumped, then haltingly turned to look behind him. Flash recognized the awkward half-leading, half-blocking shuffle of an amateur bodyguard as Twilight led her mother into the sun room. Luna and Night Light were trailing behind, trading hushed words and concerned looks.
At Twilight’s urging, Velvet sat down at the farthest reaches of what could be called conversational distance, and gave her daughter an icy glance. She fidgeted for a few seconds, glancing between Flash and Twilight, then sighed. A mischievous look passed over her face for an instant before she sat up straight and cleared her throat. Velvet pointed at a spot over her daughter’s shoulder and said, “That’s an awful lot of books, Twily. Are they all yours?”
Twilight turned around and asked, “What books? I don’t see—”
Velvet leapt forward and wrapped Flash in a hug that nearly knocked him over.
“Mom, no! He could—”
Velvet batted Twilight’s hoof away, then returned to her hug. “Oh, hush, you. He needed a hug.”
Flash tried to push her away, but the mare was surprisingly strong. He tried to squirm out of her grasp, but she held firm as she cooed, “Shhhhh, it’ll be okay. We all love you, Flashy…” Eventually, he stopped trying to escape and instead went limp, trying to ignore the soft hug and warm words. At some point, he found he was crying, and found himself unable to stop.
When his sobs finally quieted down, Velvet pulled back and held him by the shoulders. “I don’t know exactly what you’ve been through, but this is the real world. Twilight loves you, and we love you. We’re here for you.”
“No, no,” Flash muttered as he shook his head and pushed her hooves away. “You’re lying. You’re all lying. Lying…” Suddenly, Twilight rushed forward as Velvet pulled Flash’s wing out of his mouth. Night Light held one wing while Velvet gently grasped the other as they tried to keep his wings away from his teeth. Everypony was talking at once. Flash squeezed his eyes shut and halfheartedly tried to pull his wings free, or at least rub the itchy areas against the hooves holding them in place.
Everyone finally quieted down enough for Twilight to be heard. “Flash, your wings are real. I know how much you love to fly, and it hurts me to see you injure yourself like that.”
Flash glared at Twilight and gritted his teeth, breathing heavily and trying his best to slice her into ribbons with his eyes. Over the blood rushing in his ears, he could hear Night Light say, “I don’t like the way you’re looking at my daughter.”
Velvet said, “Yes, I liked it better when he was making ‘grandkids eyes’ at her.”
Flash shrugged off their comments and addressed Twilight with as much venom as he could muster. “Nothing I do could ever hurt you.” He looked at Velvet. “You have to love somepony for them to r-really hurt you.”
Twilight looked at her mom. “What’s he talking about?”
Velvet let go of Flash’s wing and sat back on her haunches. As Night Light and Twilight relaxed, Velvet said, "That’s not what I said, Flashy. Love means opening yourself up to being hurt, that’s true. But it also means, um…" She looked at her husband and daughter. Night Light kissed Twilight on the forehead as she buried her face in his neck. Velvet smiled and said, "It also means keeping on, even when you've been hurt."
She kept talking after he had stopped caring. His eyes wandered around the perfect little garden behind the perfect little family. There were lots of flowers that looked delicious, and plenty of sticks in those bushes. It would be so glorious if he could throw himself into one of those bushes and just thrash his wings around to address that itch. Flash squirmed, trying to covertly rub his wing joints against his ribcage.
Soon, the world shrank smaller and smaller, until nothing remained but his wings and the crawling sensation that inhabited them. He stood abruptly, and began marching toward the nearest shrubbery. Twilight stepped in front of him, but before she could speak, Velvet pulled her aside and said, “Why don’t we let him walk around a bit? I’m sure he’ll be okay.”
A rattling from the doorway brought everypony’s attention to the bus cart being pushed by a matronly pony in a white apron. Princess Luna stood up and said, “Yes, Twilight Velvet, that is an excellent idea. Flash, why don’t you stretch your legs while we all enjoy our breakfast of—” she lifted the silver dome from the serving tray in a halo of indigo magic “—grilled cheese sandwiches and nachos.”
Velvet covered her muzzle with a hoof as she snickered, then buried her face in Night Light’s shoulder. Twilight laid a hoof on Flash’s shoulder as she said, “Your fav—”
Flash collapsed to the ground and scurried away from her touch with a whimper, before climbing to his hooves and glaring at her. The ringing in his ears precluded him from hearing the next part of the conversation, but when he next looked up, Twilight was standing on the other side of her parents and everypony was looking at him. Luna stepped forward. “Flash, you’re safe now. You’re not a prisoner. You are welcome to go where you like, and I think that some fresh air will be good for you. Take some time to stretch your legs, and your wings.”
“So I can just… Just walk out the door? And nopony will stop me? Stop. Stop…”
Twilight looked uncomfortable. Luna spoke in a measured tone. “Nopony will stop you. But Shining Armor and Princess Cadance will arrive on the train this afternoon, and they would love to have dinner with you, so we would appreciate if you returned by evening, though we will understand if you still need your space.”
Flash licked his lips and looked from one pony to another. After a few blinks, he grunted and turned toward the door, but skidded to a halt when he almost bumped into the food cart. While his wide eyes bounced from one cheese-covered morsel to another, Luna daintily stepped next to him and said, “Not exactly a traditional breakfast, but it certainly beats a bran muffin, doesn’t it? Why don’t you grab a sandwich or two on your way out?”
Perfectly-toasted sourdough triangles leered at him from the rustic wooden cutting board. Half-congealed nacho cheese jiggled as it silently laughed. They knew. They all knew that he never got to eat. They were mocking him. The sun, the hug, the food, the promise of freedom. All just waiting for him to finally believe that it was real.
“Let me save you the trouble,” Flash said, as he placed his forehooves onto the edge of the cart. He leaned back and tugged on the cart, tilting it nearly to its balance point, then used all his might to throw it against the mosaic floor. Luna danced backwards with a flare of her wings, gracefully avoiding the spray of crumbs and cheese.
Flash screamed something that he didn’t bother to remember, and punted the pile of food like a hoofball, sending several sandwiches flying toward Twilight’s family and spraying Luna with liquid cheese and olives. He turned and ambled out the door.
The hallways of the castle had long since devolved into a nightmarish maze punctuated with the few rooms he least wanted to visit. He didn’t bother to choose a direction to walk, he just shuffled along with his head down.
Every door he passed threatened to draw his attention. Twilight’s laughter bubbled out from under closed doors, and snippets of intimate conversations wafted her voice out of dark doorways like the smell of sweat and lavender. The piercing whine of a bone grinder could be heard echoing down the hallway from some unseen infirmary. Another voice, rough like white whiskers, called out from behind him.
He walked for a long time, keeping his eyes on the monochromatic floor tiles in an attempt to avoid any of the doors. Like always, though, he knew his fate. He would wander these halls aimlessly until three stallions came running up behind him. “Heya Flash!”
“Wh… What?” Flash turned toward the trio who had been in his apartment the day before. “Why are you here?”
The blue unicorn said, “We heard you were gonna hit the town. Mind if we join you?”
Flash looked over his shoulder with a quizzical expression. The room he had been about to enter was a cheery space, with dust motes swirling through sharp sunbeams as potted trees stood guard over comfortable-looking cushions. “But… But why are you here?”
“Didn’t you hear Sparks?” asked the orange stallion as he threw a foreleg around his friend’s neck.
Flash squinted. “Sparks?”
“Sparks. Sparkle Brook. Me!” The blue unicorn pointed toward himself emphatically, then gave a debonair smile and tossed his mane back with a flick of his head. It only took a moment for his locks to fall back down over one eye. He stood motionless like he was posing for a photograph, while the other two stallions rolled their eyes.
“You look, uh, familiar.”
“Wow, you really did get messed up. You should at least remember us from last night.” Sparks pointed a hoof toward the lanky earth pony and said, “That’s Autumn Crush.” He motioned to the burly one. “And this is Tee Square.”
“We’re all in the guard together.” Autumn swept one long foreleg in a little circle, indicating all four ponies. “We hang out. Do you remember watching the Vanhoover game with us at Jock, Stock, ‘n Barrel? The sports bar?”
Flash stared blankly at the three stallions.
“It was about three weeks ago.” Autumn returned Flash’s blank stare.
Tee Square leaned over and stuck his face between the two and shifted his eyes from one to the other a few times, settling on Flash. “You smell like nachos.”
Sparks and Autumn both sighed. “Well,” Autumn said as he ran a hoof through his shaggy yellow and red mane. “The Barrel has food. Why don’t we head there and feed this guy? Get you somethin’ to eat too, since you decided to wear your breakfast instead of eat it.”
“Hmmmph.” Flash turned and continued to mope his way down the hall.
Sparks trotted a few steps to catch up. “Hey, come on. Come with us. It’ll be like the old days.” He grabbed Flash across the shoulders and pressed his head next to Flash’s, using his other foreleg to point dramatically down the hall. “You and us. We’ll eat greasy food, and drink cider at nine in the morning.” He tapped the stallion’s fuzzy orange chest. “I won’t take no for an answer.”
Flash shoved him hard enough that he stumbled into the wall. “I’m free to wander around, huh? F-free. So long as I’m surrounded by guards? Lying. Of c-course she was lying. Lying. That’s what, lying, they… all…” He backed down the hall, keeping his eyes on the trio of guards, muttering under his breath.
Autumn slowly and smoothly advanced, stopping only long enough to smack Sparks on the back of the head before turning back to Flash with a concerned smile. “Flash, buddy, you’re welcome to walk around alone, if you really want to. But you’ll be walking around the laundry facilities.”
Upon looking over his shoulder, Flash saw a pair of double doors propped open. Inside, large wooden tubs spit out suds as bored-looking unicorns agitated sopping masses of cloth within. He could hear Autumn talking behind him. “Sparks will totally take no for an answer. But at least take one of us with you so you don’t get lost.”
With a sigh, Flash turned back around and looked at his three options. Tee Square, standing a full head higher than the others, licked his lips. Sparkle Brook gave a smile that could sell boats, and Autumn Crush rolled his eyes. “You,” Flash said, as he pointed at the skinniest of the group.
Autumn calmly turned around, sat on his flank, then energetically pumped his forelegs in the air, shouting, “Yessssss! He likes me the best! Suck it, losers!” He looked over his shoulder and beamed a big grin at Flash.
Flash almost grinned back.
“C’mon, Flash. I think we can cut through the laundry facilities.” Autumn poked his head through the doors, looking left and right.
Flash could hear Sparks and Tee talking as they disappeared back the way they had come. “I super want some nachos now. We can still go to The Barrel, right?”
“Sure, big boy. Why not?”
“Oooh! Do you think Skyshine will be there…”
Autumn chuckled, turning to look at Flash as they trotted side-by-side through a utilitarian hallway. “Heh. Were you there when Tee found a feather in his nachos? Thought he was gonna have a heart attack. His eyes got real wide when he pulled it out of his mouth, and then just kinda held it up in front of his face. He looked over at Skyshine, and she just winked at him. Thought he was gonna blow a gasket right there. I’m tellin’ you, we all cracked up. Do you remember that?”
He didn’t. None of the stories seemed familiar, not as they entered the courtyard, not as they passed under an arched gateway into the city, and not when they had wandered into a part of the city that looked like every other part of the city he hadn’t been bothering to look at. “Hey, Flash.”
Flash looked up.
“The fine citizens of Canterlot are starting to think there’s a timberwolf running around, so why don’t we get some donuts in your belly? There’s a place right up the block that’s pretty good.”
Canterlot suddenly seemed a lot smaller. Flash put his head on a swivel, checking each alley as they passed. Before they had gone far, he ducked into a narrow alley and stopped in front of a mound of trash piled up against a dingy brick wall. Autumn followed him into the alley. “Whatcha lookin’ for, buddy?”
Flash pointed at a spot between a precariously balanced metal can and a pile of moldy newspapers. “R-right there. Do, do you see it? It. There.”
Squinting, the stallion leaned forward. “Ummm…”
Flash lifted one hoof, then brought it down hard on the back of Autumn’s skull. His head snapped forward, and a second later his body toppled forward, landing in the pile of refuse. After a quick check to his left and right, Flash pulled down a stack of garbage cans and winced as the horrific clatter echoed up and down the alley. The avalanche of trash completely covered Autumn’s motionless body.
Flash trotted out of the alley as calmly as he had gone in. With no idea where he was, or where he wanted to go, he thought an aerial vantage point might at least give him a place to go. Flash unfurled a wing and brought it forward to examine it. Some feathers were missing, but he should still be able to get into the air just fine, even if some high-speed maneuvers or aerobatics would be impossible.
The sky above him was as empty as one would expect in a unicorn city. Flash spread his wings, crouched low to the ground, and leapt with a great sweep of his wings.
The ground remained firmly attached to his hooves.
Flash opened his eyes and looked at his wings again. No amount of flapping could produce more than a swirl of dust on the sidewalk. There was no atmosphere. No humidity. No clouds, no weather, no air. Another glance to the sky confirmed that there were, in fact, clouds drifting through the bright blue sky overhead.
Lies. It was all lies. All of it. Every mare, all of his “friends.” He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. He could feel the illusory wings on his back, worse than useless. His eyes snapped open, and he brought his right wing up to his face. A searing pain shot through his muscles as he bit down hard and tasted the coppery tang of blood. Some joint popped as he yanked on the phantom appendage, but it refused to disappear. His other wing likewise remained attached despite his best efforts.
He ran. Down one street and then another, blindly progressing deeper into the shadow of the mountain.
A solid wall stopped him. The sign was painted with white bricks, hanging motionless from a rusty frame. It simply said, “Bar.” He remembered something Sanguine said about the way drinking makes a pony forget. Flash went inside and sat in the darkest corner, halfheartedly wiping the blood and feathers off of his face before a wrinkled mare shambled up to his booth and gave him a half-lidded stare.
______________________________________________
He was eleven ciders into a Thursday. He fell down the stairs. Not strong enough. He needed to switch to whisky. They were having a foal. She was. He had nothing to do with it. She had lied. It was all his fault. He was forgetting something. He had hurt the ones he loved. That was his punishment. Or his crime. Both? He broke her jaw. Someone’s jaw. There were feathers between his teeth. Blood on his tongue. He could feel the bones grinding as he pushed his hoof down. Something was grinding. His teeth? There was pain. He was sympathetic. Whose pain? It didn’t matter; pain was his destiny. His purpose. He caused it, he manufactured it. His delusions of being a protector - an inversion of reality - revealed his true being, his inner self. Blue eyes pleaded with him. Or crimson eyes. Both? Purple eyes. Isn’t that how it worked? Hooves and magic and a chair. The floor filled his eyes and his nose and his screams and his nightmares. Shining Armor looked disappointed. Someone was crying. There was water, and salt. He was drinking tears. Gray hair. A nice, comfortable cell. Someone screamed. The night wrapped around his head, stars and sky and cold and sleep. Someone held him.
______________________________________________
Everything ached. But not as much as his head. He tried to roll over, but something stabbed into his fetlock and pulled him back. Bright lights completely ignored his eyelids, stabbing into his brain.
He wanted to vomit. The taste in his mouth and the crust on his lips told him that he already had. It happened again, but there was nothing in his stomach. Instead, he just heaved, wracking his sore abdominal muscles. Somepony said something.
“Nah, he’s okay. It’s about time for another bag of fluid, though.”
He wished it hadn’t been that voice. Any voice but that one. He pretended to be asleep, but as soon as the nurse had left the room, he heard it again. “I know you ain’t asleep, boy.” Flash didn’t need to open his eyes to be sure that Sanguine had seen his heart drop.
“Princess Luna told me not to say this, but I’ve always been honest with you. So I’m gonna be honest. I’m disappointed in you.” The old stallion’s voice was trembling.
Sanguine let that sentence soak in for a long time before he continued. “I know you’ve been through a lot. Dunno what, exactly. But I’ve had my own—”
Even with his eyes closed, Flash could see the grizzled surgeon scrunch his muzzle and tilt his head sideways as he paused. “You know what I been through. Hay, you’re the only stallion seen me cry in twenty years. But I can’t get you outta this. You’ve been suspended. If it wasn’t for Princess Luna’s personal intervention, you wouldn’t even be in the guard right now.
“You’ve hurt a lot of ponies. You’re lucky that Autumn Crush was an earth pony, or he might not’a woke up. He’s down the hall with a concussion. Two mares are in the hospital right now, with broken bones at your hoof.”
Flash licked his lips, but his dry tongue merely caught the sharp bits of peeling skin. The darkness around him swirled one direction and suddenly reversed, the bed threatening to throw him out one side and then the other. He took several hesitant breaths before he could manage to produce even a hoarse whisper. “W-was it Twilight?”
“Yes, sweetie, I’m—”
“—two bar patrons, I don’t think you—”
“—know where you are?”
“—confused, talking like one of them was her.”
Flash pried his eyes open and tried to discern his surroundings through the blinding wash of sun beams pouring through the wide-open curtains. The room itself was unfamiliar, but it had to be one of the private recovery rooms in the castle infirmary. There was one bed, two chairs, three potted plants, one blade-happy butcher, and a filthy lying cheat. Flash’s eyes went back and forth between the two ponies seated in identical chairs at the end of his bed.
The stubble on Sanguine’s face betrayed his sleepless night. Flash looked him in the eyes and said, “I didn’t do it. I said it t-to protect her. Her. Her. But I don’t care any more. I want you to know. Know I’m innocent.”
Sanguine scratched his head and squinted. Twilight asked, “Who are you talking to?”
Flash shifted his gaze to Twilight. “Sanguine.”
“Who’s that?”
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m right here.”
Flash glanced briefly at Sanguine. “The Canterlot Guard’s Surgeon General.”
Twilight furrowed her brow. “Over the last two days, I’ve—”
“—know that, but I didn’t realize you were—”
“—medical staff here, but I’ve never heard of—”
“—know how much you remember about last night, but when me and Shining found you in that bar… Well, I hope I never see anypony ever look at me the way Shining Armor looked at you. He’s waiting outside, and I plan on being elsewhere when he comes in. Come and find me when you get yourself sorted out. You know where I’ll be.”
Sanguine grunted as he heaved himself out of the chair, then gave Flash one last glance as he shuffled wearily out of the room. After a few minutes of watching the room spin around him, Flash saw Shining Armor step into the room with an unreadable expression on his face. Flash fidgeted with the line taped to his leg, then searched the room for anything to occupy his eyes so he didn’t have to look at Shining.
Shining cleared his throat. With a sigh, Flash looked up at him and tried not to think about what was about to happen. Shining took a deep breath.
The shouting wasn’t as bad as Flash had expected. Mostly because he didn’t care that much any more.
“I’m sorry. Am I boring you?”
Flash realized he had been allowing his eyes to wander the room again. He looked back at Shining and cleared his throat. “Nothing you could say could, could possibly make me f-feel worse than I already do. Feel.”
Silence dominated the space between the stallions for several seconds. Shining sighed, and his hard face cracked, then fell away completely. “Look. I know what it’s like to be under a brain-bending magic spell. Under the circumstances, I’m sure she understands. She’ll be okay.”
“You have n-no idea,” Flash said, his hooves and ears twitching with each word, “what I-I’ve done to… To hurt Twilight.”
Shining stepped up to the side of the bed and spoke softly. “Flash. Look at me.”
As soon as Flash made eye contact, Shining leaned over the bed and gave him a hug. “I know what you did to protect Twily. I mean, I know it wasn’t real, but still. Thanks for looking out for her. I know you love her a lot.”
He smelled like Twilight. Flash whimpered and pushed the stallion away. “S-stop trying to confuse me! No, she, she… No. It was a mistake! But, but I’m smarter now. S-she can’t hurt me now. Hurt me now!”
Shining stood just out of hoof’s reach and chewed his lip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I do know what it’s like to get zapped in the head. I wasn’t just a puppet, you know. I thought things, I knew things. Things that weren’t true. I wanted things. I wanted… Well, I know that you never wanted to clobber a bunch of innocent ponies, and I know that you never wanted to hurt Twilight. Just like I never wanted to marry an evil shape-shifter and let an enemy army into Canterlot.”
Shining looked at the floor and lowered his voice. “For a couple months afterward, I’d notice that everypony was looking at me funny, and then I’d realize that something I said was, well, was just wrong. I wouldn’t have made it through without Cadance.” He leaned forward and gently placed a hoof on Flash’s shoulder. “I have no doubt that you’re strong enough to make it back.”
“Did I go somewhere?” Flash pinched his eyebrows together, then winced as it brought his headache back to the forefront of his mind. He looked around the room, seeing the solid stone walls through the thin facade of wallpaper and potted plants. Thick layers of gauze stopped him from wiggling his wings. He looked over his shoulder at the bandages, and realized that his wings hadn’t itched since he woke up. Perhaps the hangover was good for something after all. Of course, now that he was thinking about it, the itch was back. As he twisted his head around to try and nibble through the gauze, Shining Armor cleared his throat.
“I brought you a visitor.”
A pair of gold-armored unicorn guards strode into the room and flanked the little bed. Flash shrank deeper into the mattress and pulled the sheets up to his chin. Princess Twilight Sparkle stuck her head through the door and waited for her brother to nod before she slid into the room.
Twilight sat down and looked at the floor. “Flash, I can’t believe that you’d do something like this.” She looked up. “We’ve known each other for over two years—”
“Stop lying, JUST STOP!” Flash shouted, then cringed as both guards braced themselves and illuminated their horns. He gripped the sides of his bed and snarled, “Do you know why I, why I hit those mares? I was so drunk that I thought they were YOU!”
Twilight let out a wail as she buried her face in her brother’s neck. He whispered in her ear and then wrapped his forelegs around her neck while he glared at Flash.
Flash watched Twilight’s shoulders heave with silent sobs. She’d never cried before. Not like this. He didn’t love her any more. It couldn’t hurt if he didn’t love her. He squeezed his eyes shut and repeated the mantra over and over, “I don’t love her any more. I don’t love her any more…”
A dozen repetitions later, Flash cracked an eye open. Everypony was looking at him. Twilight had dried her face, and was standing at the end of his bed resting one hoof on his mattress. “Flash, Celestia lied to you. I never cheated, and you never lost your wings. I have to study for tomorrow’s big summit, but I want you to know that—”
She stepped back and nodded to the guards, who lowered their shoulders and adopted a wide combat stance. Twilight took a hesitant breath, then said, “I love you.”
Flash blinked, then lowered his eyes to the sweat-stained bedsheets crumpled up in his lap. He poked at the needle taped into his foreleg. Twilight said goodbye, but he didn’t look up until he heard her hoofsteps pass out of the room. Conversation drifted in from the hallway, and all four stallions pricked their ears to listen in on Twilight.
“…to her own guard. She knew it was risky, and she did it anyway. … No, I’m just saying to be careful. She probably doesn’t trust you and Shining, either—”
Shining cleared his throat. The two guards gave each other a significant look.
“Well,” Shining said, “I’d better go make sure Twily isn’t getting into trouble. Flash, we’re all pulling for you. You can make it through this.” He turned and took one step toward the door, then paused and looked Flash in the eyes. “And don’t ever, ever hit my little sister again. This is the last time I tell you.”
With that, he trotted into the hall with the guards in tow. One of them looked at Flash and gave a subtle nod before he disappeared through the door.
Once the door had been closed, everything became painfully quiet. A splash of sunlight inched its way across the floor as echoes of a thousand conversations bounced around the room. A nurse came in to give him dinner, but as soon as she set the tray on his lap, he lethargically flipped it onto the floor. She didn’t seem to care, and the guards didn’t get too excited about it either. They left without saying a word.
Flash pinched the needle between his teeth and gingerly pulled it out of his leg before hopping to the floor. The sun hung low in the window, sliding toward the horizon. Flash shuffled over to the window and tried to open it. Of course it was magically locked. Probably reinforced, too.
Muffled whispers made their way under the door. Flash snuck up to the doorway, lowering himself to the floor and squeezing an ear as close to the crack as he could. He couldn’t make out what either stallion was saying, but they quickly became silent when the noise of hoofsteps approached. When the steps had again disappeared down the hall, they resumed their discussion.
As he had done so many times, Flash lay on the cold floor with his ear pressed to the crack under the door. Finally, he heard what he had been waiting for. “I’m gonna grab some coffee. You?”
Flash immediately shuffled away from the door, then lifted one edge of the mattress and tied the bedsheets onto the frame by two corners. He scooted one chair over next to the bed, tossed his discarded dinner’s dishes onto the food tray and balanced it on top of the chair, then climbed back into bed. Taking the IV hose, he wrapped it around one foreleg several times, then positioned the tall steel bag hanger nearby with one of its feet hooked around one of the bed’s legs. Ten seconds later, he had calmed his breathing to a reasonable level.
No hoofsteps had returned to the door, so Flash reached out a rear leg and gave the chair a bump, sending the dishes back to the floor. He leaned over the side of his bed and tossed the sheet over part of his body, supporting his weight on the IV tube. After the dishes had rattled to a stop, he called out in his most pathetic voice, “Um, is anypony there?”
The door opened slowly as the lone guard cautiously worked his way into the room. He leaned his head over to peek into progressively larger bits of the room as he shuffled sideways, “slicing the pie” just as he’d been taught. Flash plastered on a smile he hoped qualified as sheepish, and wiggled his legs, wincing as the IV tube tugged on his leg. The guard narrowed his eyes, glanced at the rest of the room, then turned his attention back to Flash.
The entangled pegasus lowered his eyes. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
The guard chuckled, then trotted over to Flash. “Let’s see if we can get you out of this mess.”
As soon as the guard was next to the bed, Flash rolled off of the mattress, putting all his weight on the IV hose. The hanger levered downward, sending a spray of green sparks off the unicorn’s horn as it impacted.
“Ow! Dangit, sir, I’m trying to help!”
Flash rolled behind the stallion and jumped up on the other side, pulling the IV hose tight. He spun his foreleg around the guard’s flailing limbs, unwrapping himself as he went. Pushing against the wall, Flash knocked the tangled guard over, then leaned forward and bit down on the far edge of the mattress. As the guard fought to stand up, Flash pulled the bed down on top of him before leaping clear of the whole mess.
Flash bounded out the door and looked both directions down the hallway. Seeing noone in either direction, he turned around and closed the door as quietly and quickly as he could. He made a left and ran, trying to avoid sounding like he was in a hurry. Around the first corner, he slowed to a quiet shuffle, sliding his hooves rather than lifting them.
It only took a few turns to find an exit. He slipped out the door quietly, and made his way through a little park with a fountain before he realized that he wasn’t so much outside as he was in a courtyard, surrounded by mountain and castle on three sides. The fourth side overlooked Equestria. Without apartment buildings and other cityscape in the way, the view was much better than the one from his own window. Flash trotted up to the railing and looked out over the countryside.
There was a stairway leading down the face of the mountain, decorated with a series of tiny waterfalls that drained from the fountain above. As Flash descended, the roar of rushing water drowned out the sound of his hoofsteps and a wet mist permeated the air. The stairs led to a simple ledge with a few benches and trees next to one of Canterlot’s famous waterfalls. It was not an escape route, but it was undoubtedly a romantic spot to watch the sunset.
Twilight trotted up on Flash’s right side, tilted her head toward him and smiled. Flash gritted his teeth and looked to his left. The river sparkled with brilliant reds and oranges to match the blossoming horizon. He stepped up to the short stone wall and peered at the water as it tumbled over the edge. The river broke into a million droplets as it hit the air, each taking its own path to the ground hidden in the mist far below. Despite the noise, it was easy to hear Twilight’s words. “No matter how far you go, we’ll always be together.”
He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or if he could hear shouting from the park up above, but they couldn’t be far behind him in any case. The wall around the ledge was just tall enough to keep adventurous colts and fillies safely away from from the precipice, and barely wide enough to stand on. Flash climbed up onto the wall and looked down, wondering what it would be like to not know the sky; to be afraid of heights. With a shrug, he turned his head and pinched his bandages between his teeth, pulling off the strips of gauze and letting the wind carry them into the waterfall where they quickly disappeared.
Twilight hopped over the wall and hovered in the mist, letting the water add an otherworldly sheen to her coat. Her laughter was musical. “Come fly with me, sweetie!” She flew a tight vertical loop, her wet mane sending a spray of red and orange gemstones in an expanding spiral.
Flash extended his wings and winced. The shoulder joints had been re-set, but were still sore from the last time he had tried to fly and had instead ended up doing his best to pull his wings completely off. The large patches of bare skin were ugly purple, and mottled with scabs.
He looked at Twilight, then at the fog swirling below. Flash extended his wings and leaned forward, tilting over the edge. As he closed his eyes, he could feel the wind rushing past his face. He smiled.
Twilight looked up and blinked. She dropped the potted plant and turned around with wide eyes. “What did you just say?”
Luna froze where she stood in the doorway. “I’m sorry, Twilight. I didn’t mean to offend. I only wanted to remind you of a happier time.”
“I, but… How did you know?” Twilight turned away from Luna and blinked away the memories of a thousand late nights nestled in fluffy white feathers with a book in her hooves. “You even got the inflection perfect.”
“I chased away her nightmares.” Luna turned her head and squinted at a blank section of wall, her focus far beyond it. “In their place, I tried to pull up the happiest, most peaceful feeling I could find. She longs for the days when you looked up to her. What I saw was a little—”
“Yes, I know,” Twilight snapped. “But those days are over.”
“Today is over, Twilight. Tomorrow comes quickly, and you need your sleep before the summit. There will be no time for napping on the train.”
Twilight clenched her jaw and pinched her lips together, trying to make her suppressed yawn appear more like an angry moment of thought. “I don’t care if you go yourself, if you throw a bucket of cold water on Celestia, or if you send the window washer. I’m not leaving until I’ve found Flash.”
Luna raised one eyebrow. “And you expect to find him under potted plants and couch cushions?”
“I…” Twilight jammed the cushion back onto the couch with more force than was necessary. “He’s out there, he’s confused, and he’s hurt. I have to do something.”
“This is at least your fourth circuit around this part of the castle. You’re not going to find him like this. Why don’t you let the Canterlot guard handle the searching? Your brother is leading the effort, and if I’m not mistaken, he is the one who taught Flash everything he knows about ‘e and e’ as they call it. If anyone can find him, it’s Shining Armor.”
Twilight sat down on the couch and wrapped her tail around her haunches. “You’re right. He couldn’t have gone far. I’ll go make friends with an entire nation, and by the time I get back, Flash will be safe and sound, right here in the castle.” She smirked and poked Luna with a hoof. “Assuming you don’t lose him again, that is.”
“Ah, well.” Luna cleared her throat. “On that topic, I think that he would be better served by a facility equipped to deal with his… capabilities. He needs professionals who can keep him from hurting himself or others. Professionals who can help him readjust to the real world.”
“An institution. Yeah. Celestia literally drove him crazy.” She looked up at Luna as she hugged her tail tighter. “Crazy enough to hurt other ponies.”
Luna chuckled. “Well, it happens to the best of us.” She wrapped a wing around Twilight and shook her gently as she said, “When I found ponies who were willing to forgive me, I realized that I had room to forgive my sister as well.”
The castle had always been quiet at night, but even with the sound of rustling feathers and two ponies breathing, it had never felt empty like this. Then again, when filly Twilight was spending nights in the castle, she had usually filled the night with grand adventures through ancient places that smelled like musty books. And always on her own.
“You know what?” Twilight sat up straighter and took a refreshing breath. “All my friends are sleeping in the castle library right now. I’m going to pull up a comfy pile of books and join them. Take care of Flash for me. Thanks, Luna.”
Luna chuckled as she returned Twilight’s hug. “Rainbow Dash is probably drooling on an ancient, priceless manuscript as we speak. Go be with your friends.”
Twilight waved goodbye as she stepped out of the sitting room. A pair of guards fell into step behind her, their hoofsteps echoing ahead as she mindlessly traced the familiar hallways. As they neared the giant polished oak doors, Twilight slowed to a quiet shuffle, mindful of the gentle snores rolling through the doorway. She turned to the guards with a smile, but one of them spoke before she could.
“We’ll have everything ready for your trip tomorrow. I’ll be right here all night if you need anything, and I’ll make sure you get up on time. Starfire here will join the search as soon as everything’s packed. Don’t worry, Princess, a lot of us served with Flash Sentry. We’ve got your back.”
Starfire saluted. “Sleep easy, Princess.”
Twilight smiled and nodded before dragging herself into the library’s dim interior.
______________________________________________
Twilight concentrated on the train’s rhythm as the vibrations passed through the windowpane and transmitted directly into her skull. The cold glass felt good against her forehead. Not “good” per se, but distracting enough to keep her mind off of the train car full of stallions, all overly eager to be helpful. Flash had a lot of friends, and she’d never met any of them.
She sat up, feeling the long earrings dangling against her neck. They were heavy, they were pendulous, and she had been wearing them for hours now. She almost regretted having them made, but they marked her status as a head of state. At least, according to her most recent research. Spike’s earrings were not nearly so long, but proportional to his smaller size, they were nearly the size of hers. He seemed even less excited about them than she was.
Twilight sighed and held up a hoof. “No, Heavyside. I don’t think they will literally hold a sword to your throat. That was just a ‘for instance’ to illustrate the value they place on trust.”
“So,” the skinny stallion asked, “is that something like how a timberwolf can smell fear?”
“Ummmm…” Twilight looked at the ceiling. “I think it’s more like how a pony knows when someone doesn’t respect them. As much as you want to be respected by your peers, and especially by those you look up to, the Lóng want trust to be part of their relationships.”
A pegasus guard raised a hoof with a thoughtful look on his face. “Hypothetically,” he began, with every stallion in the car nodding gravely at the word, “if one of them was to hold a sword to my throat, I should trust that he isn’t going to hurt me. I can’t show any fear, right?”
“I think that ‘not showing fear’ falls more along the lines of false bravado than trust. Even a hardened warrior would be afraid of a blade at his throat. I’m guessing that it is more important to react honestly? There’s so much we don’t know about their culture, but any protocol gaffes will be easier to smooth over if they come from a genuine desire for friendship. So, I think, just be honest with them, and treat them like a trusted friend. It’s not like we’re hiding anything.”
“How do we know we can trust them, though?” an earth stallion asked. “I’m all for trusting your friends, but they’re friends because they already earned that trust.”
Twilight nodded as she looked over the ponies who seemed like they weren’t sure whether it was okay to agree with him. “The Lóng tell a story. Actually, they tell a lot of stories. Well, they used to. I would think they still do. I mean, it’s a very effective method of passing on and reinforcing cultural mores and—”
Spike cleared his throat. “The story?”
“Oh, right. Sorry. The point of this particular story is that if you withhold trust until it’s earned, then there’s no trust at all. It’s just two parties, waiting to be betrayed.”
“No offense, your highness,” said a graying unicorn, “but you just described international diplomacy. I’ve been on a lot of these summits with Princess Celestia, and let me tell you, most places outside of Equestria aren’t as… um, peaceful, I guess. Can you think of any ponies who would support an Equestrian war of territorial expansion?”
Twilight shook her head as she looked at one stallion after another. Some of them looked grim, some sad, and others simply looked at the floor.
“In other nations, it wouldn’t be so difficult to find that support. I’m just saying you need to be cautious, is all.”
Twilight nodded, but remained silent. She thought through the stories she had been told as a filly. All the storybooks, tall tales, and nursery rhymes that filled the heads of foals across Equestria. There was no overriding narrative in them, else she was too thoroughly steeped in it to recognize the theme. Maybe the desire to be trusted was that ingrained in the Long Dragons as well.
Twilight stood up. “You know what, Laurel? The rest of the world may be like that, but I think the Lóng reached out to us because they want to start a new kind of international diplomacy.”
Laurel chuckled, while several of the stallions behind him nodded. “Princess, I like your optimism. I wish I shared it. Just try not to get your hopes up, okay? All you have to do is find out what they want, make a good first impression, and ask for a few days to think things over. Then Princess Celestia can take over from there.”
“Yay,” Twilight mumbled, “something else she doesn’t trust me to do.”
Spike elbowed her in the ribs. Twilight glanced at his face and felt a tiny pang of guilt. She leaned over and pressed her forehead against his, whispering, “I’m sorry, Spike. I know I promised.”
He hugged her around the neck and replied, “She’s pretty much family for both of us. I don’t like you being mad at her.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t be nursing this grudge for long. I’ll go make friends with an entire new nation, Celestia will see how mature I am, and by the time we get back Flash will be safe and sound.” Twilight sank further into her seat. “Right?”
Laurel put a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “Princess, everything’s going to be fine. Just let the Canterlot Guard worry about Flash, and you focus on the summit. I’ll be right next to you the whole time.”
The door to the next car slid open, and a mustachioed stallion in a conductor hat poked his head inside. “We’re about ten minutes out of San Franciscolt. We’ll pull up to the conference center’s platform in fifteen.”
“Thanks,” Twilight said, then turned back to the guards. “I guess we’re running short on time. There’s a lot we don’t know, so we’ll have to play it by ear. Return whatever greeting they give. The most recent custom I could find is this. Heavyside, come here.”
The other guards took a step back as Heavyside stood at attention in front of Twilight. She lifted her head, tilting her chin up and to her right. She held the pose for a moment before turning back to Heavyside and asking, “What do you notice about that greeting?”
“Ummmm.” He looked at the other guards, then back at Twilight. “It exposes your most vulnerable area to the strongest attack of a right-hoofed opponent, while preventing you from seeing the attack coming.”
“Which means?” Twilight asked.
“It means that you’ve really gotta trust someone to expose your neck like that.”
“Bingo! Now, remember, we don’t know if they still use this greeting, but I don’t want you to be surprised if they offer it, because you will need to return it. Any questions?”
“No, ma’am,” Heavyside said with a salute.
“Good. Come on, Spike. Let’s get ready to meet the Yang delegation.”
______________________________________________
Twilight looked over her shoulder, glancing at the guards assembled behind her. From their identically perfect armor and calm confidence, it was clear that they were well-practiced in this type of diplomatic mission. She turned back to the front and nodded to Laurel. The train’s door slid open in a glow of orange magic.
A pair of pegasus guards stood on the station platform, clearly out of breath and probably sweaty beneath their armor’s uniform enchantment. One stepped forward with a smile as Twilight and her entourage exited the train. “Your highness, Princess Celestia has just arrived. She is waiting for you inside.”
Twilight gasped and took a halting step forward. “Did she find Flash Sentry?”
“I’m sorry, your highness, I don’t think so. She’s just inside, if you want to talk to her.”
Twilight’s ears drooped for just a moment before she held her head up again and straightened her tiara. “Thank you. Why don’t you two get some rest? There’s plenty of comfortable space on the train.”
She turned toward the conference center and let her eyes follow the lines of the classical pillars down to the open archway leading to its sunlit interior. With a deep breath, she glanced down at Spike, then marched up the wide staircase.
Only a few steps into the atrium, Twilight could see Celestia standing in front of a mosaic, studying ponies in white robes as they stood frozen in scenes whose historicity had been lost to the ages. An hour ago, the tiny bits of glass and gemstones had probably been sparkling in the wash of morning sunlight, before the sun had risen too high and its light had slipped to the floor. In another hour, the overhanging roof would block out the direct sunlight entirely.
Celestia didn’t acknowledge Twilight’s approach until they were standing side by side. She sighed and closed her eyes, then lowered her head. “Twilight, I’m sorry. There is no excuse for what I did.” She turned to look at Twilight. “I want you to know that my actions were motivated by love, and I hope you can forgive me.”
Twilight looked at the floor. In the direct sunlight, she could see that the marble was translucent, with opaque swirls standing like smoke inside a milky haze. She poked at it with a gold-shod hoof. It didn’t look that different from the compressed clouds the pegasi used.
Celestia sighed again. “I see. Perhaps later, after Flash Sentry is safe and recovering.”
“Speaking of which,” Twilight said, “why aren’t you still in Canterlot, looking for him?”
“The search is in the best possible hooves. I thought you could use some help at the summit.”
“The summit is in the best possible hooves. I don’t—” Twilight bit off her words and glanced back at the entrance, where Spike was watching and chewing the tips of his claws.
Twilight took a deep breath. “Right now, I know more about the Yang Dynasty and Lóng culture than anyone in Equestria. Including you.”
Celestia smiled. “And I’m proud of you for that—”
“Don’t patronize me.” Twilight clenched her jaw as she heard Spike clear his throat. She softened the tone of her words. “Any foal could have read those same books if they had the inclination. I am qualified to represent Equestria because I believe in the power of friendship to bring harmony.”
“I’m sorry, Twilight. You are qualified. I didn’t mean to imply that you couldn’t handle things here. I just wanted to help.” She tilted her head toward Twilight and smiled. “And I wanted to see you.”
Twilight couldn’t help but smile a little bit. “Well it was… nice to see you. I should go, the meeting is going to start any minute.”
As Twilight turned to leave, Celestia took a step in the same direction. “I’ll join you.”
Twilight stopped and turned to face her mentor. “No. I’ve got everything handled. I don’t need your help. Laurel is going to be sitting right next to me.”
Celestia gave another patronizing smile. “The Lóng arranged the meeting with the expectation that I would be there. Even if you take the lead in the negotiations, I should be present if at all possible.”
“No,” Twilight said. “You’re not prepared, and” —she poked at her own long earrings— “you’re not equipped.”
“With your help, I think I can manage to avoid doing anything offensive,” Celestia said. She looked at the long golden chains and carved figures dangling from Twilight’s ears. “And I meant to ask you about those beautiful earrings. I assume they represent social status, or mark you as a head of state?”
Twilight grinned as she watched Spike jog his way across the atrium. “Pretty much. I asked Fillygree to make a pair of earrings for Spike and me, but I wanted them to reflect Equestrian aesthetics and history. That shows that we respect their customs as much as we have our own culture.”
This time, Celestia’s smile was genuine. “That’s very wise of you, Twilight! And she did an excellent job. I don’t suppose you have a spare set for me?”
Spike poked at his earrings and grimaced. “Do you want mine? I don’t actually have external ears, you know.”
Twilight reached out and poked Spike with her wing. “We talked about this. Anypony without earrings is going to be seen as a servant.” She looked at Celestia.
“As a matter of principle,” Celestia said, “I don’t believe in replicating art. But I can make a temporary illusion to duplicate the appearance of your earrings. I’ll be sure to have a proper set made when we get back to Canterlot.”
Twilight sucked in a breath through her teeth. “I don’t…” Her eyes ran from Celestia’s long legs and graceful neck up to a height well above Twilight’s own. “You know what? Knock yourself out.”
Celestia smiled as she took Twilight’s earrings in her magic. “Thank you Twilight. This meeting is very important. I’m glad we are able to put aside our personal issues and act professionally for a few hours.”
A set of identical trinkets appeared on Celestia’s ears just as Heavyside trotted up to the trio. “Your highnesses.” He glanced at Celestia. “I assume you’re taking Laurel’s place at the table?”
Celestia nodded.
“The Yang delegation is already seated and waiting for you. Are you both ready?”
“Just one second,” Twilight said as she straightened her earrings. “Alright.”
Heavyside led them a short distance down the hallway, then peeked through a crack between heavy double doors. “They’re ready. Princess Twilight, you’re up first, then Spike.” He pushed a door open and looked back at Twilight.
Twilight took a deep breath and stepped through the door, falling into step behind another unicorn guard. She had to fight the urge to stop and gawk at the high domed roof, encircled by large swaths of stained glass that painted the stark white walls with static rainbows. The entire building was an excellent commentary on earth pony interpretation of pegasus architecture. The Lóng delegation, observing her from the other side of the white spruce table, either had little interest in the architecture or had already taken the opportunity to enjoy the view.
The stallion pulled back a tall chair at the center of the table and announced Twilight’s name and title. She sat down and smiled, looking at the trio seated across from her. Each dragon stared at her stoically, with teeth peeking out of their unsmiling, square muzzles. Tall leathery ears stood out of their shaggy manes, twitching slightly as Spike’s name was announced. He clambered up into his chair with a nervous grin.
Twilight looked from one dragon to another, comparing the length of their earrings. The eight Lóng standing behind the delegation were sporting what looked like quilted silken armor, and had no earrings. Of the three at the table, there definitely seemed to be a positive relationship between earring length and the whiteness of a dragon’s beard. It probably wasn’t an absolute relation, as that would make the earrings redundant as an indicator of status and rank. Correleation was probably the correct word, as older dragons had likely had more time to improve their status.
Celestia stepped from behind Twilight, looking from her own cushion on the floor to Twilight’s tall chair and back as the guard announced her name and title. She sat, and looked up at Twilight with the stealthiest glare Twilight had ever felt. It burned into the side of her head as she smiled at the delegation on the other side of the table. Her ears felt like they were on fire, and though it was probably her imagination, she thought she could hear Celestia growling.
One of the armored dragons stepped forward and began speaking – in a strikingly beautiful feminine voice – perfect Equestrian. “Prince Song, son of Emperor Song, of the Yang Dynasty.” The dragon sitting in the middle of the table, with the longest earrings and whitest beard, gave a tiny bow.
Twilight chided herself for failing to notice sexual dimorphism among the Lóng who were present. The speaking guard certainly had a rounder muzzle than the representatives, and a quick scan of the other dragon guards confirmed Twilight’s suspicion that they likewise were female.
“Chancellor Jasmine.”
The dragon across from Celestia bowed slightly, then returned to stroking his gray mustache absentmindedly.
None of the guards had a beard, though that was hardly confirmation of gender, as most stallions kept their beards short enough to be invisible through their normal fur. Maybe Flash would grow a mustache or a beard at some point. She couldn’t decide whether that would be ruggedly handsome, or just weird like when Night Light had let his mustache grow out several years ago. Shining grew a mustache once in high school, and… Twilight realized that it had never occurred to her that Flash had almost exactly the same mane color as both Night Light and Shining Armor.
“Secretary Dream Pool.”
Horns. Each of the male delegates had a pair of horns behind their eyes, extending rearward. That was the most visible, most absolute indicator of gender that Twilight could tell. The dragon guard handed a scroll to Prince Song, and stepped back to join the other guards.
As the elder Lóng slid a red ribbon off the end of the scroll, Twilight said, “It’s nice to meet you.”
Prince Song froze for a moment, staring at Twilight with an expression she couldn’t read. She could, however, feel Celestia perform a mental facehoof. Secretary Dream Pool – the youngest of the Yang delegation if his glossy black mane was any indication – tried to hide his smirk behind a casual claw as he pretended to scratch his nose.
With a rustle of parchment, Prince Song unfurled the scroll, licked his lips, and began reading. “A scarce few years ago, the sun and moon battled in the sky. When the battle was over, the moon’s horse had disappeared. Many Lóng found this troubling, because our legend tells of a creature of nightmares imprisoned in the moon. We feared it to be the end.” He looked up and readjusted the scroll in his hands.
“Within six months, ponies arrived on our shores, claiming ownership of the Jade Valley and bearing a treaty so old, none of our scribes can attest to it. Several times since then, the sun and moon dance like drunken fools, or sleep in the sky together. There are those who fear that ponies are the end of the Lóng, or will be if they are allowed to live.”
Prince Song rolled up the parchment, and let it rest on the table while he steepled his claws and looked at Twilight.
Twilight swallowed a lump down her throat. “Hoboy.”
______________________________________________
“…which is why the sun and moon were acting unusual. So, you see, there’s nothing to worry about in that regard.”
Twilight smiled as reassuringly as she could while Dream Pool finished writing with some kind of little paintbrush. Chancellor Jasmine glanced at Prince Song, then focused on Twilight and asked, “Is that supposed to reassure us?”
“Well, I mean, we, uh… always win.” Twilight knew her smile was starting to crack.
Celestia placed a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. Twilight managed to avoid collapsing with a sigh of relief as Celestia said, “What Twilight means is that ponies face adversity and always manage to triumph in the end.”
“These ponies,” Prince Song said with a growl, “will triumph over us?”
“What Celestia means,” Twilight said, “is that ponies will always find a way for friendship to bring hope and light into the darkest of situations. I mean, look at Princess Luna and Discord. Neither of them were conquered. They saw the value of friendship, and chose that instead.”
“These ponies, they came to steal our land for friendship? If this is what it is to be friends with a pony, then we will protect ourselves from your friendship by all means.”
“No! Aaaugh!” Twilight buried her face in her hooves. She held up her left hoof to silence Celestia’s imminent commentary, then looked back up to the dragons on the other side of the table. “I don’t know anything about these ponies. They might be good, or they might be trouble. I don’t even know where they came from. But I do know this: that whatever problems you might be having, that friendship can make things better.”
Celestia nodded her head. “Twilight is right. And I believe I can shed some light on where the ponies came from. After the events surrounding the return of my sister, ponies from across Equestria began searching through libraries, looking for information on other old legends that might turn out to be true as well. I suspect that your visitors may be a group of adventurous ponies who dug up some long-lost information.”
Twilight tried to ignore what looked like a charcoal sketch of herself forming on Dream Pool’s paper as she listened to Celestia’s explanation. Prince Song stroked his beard with a claw, agonizingly slowly, twirling his other hand in the air as he spoke. “And if these ponies don’t believe in the power of friendship?”
Twilight didn’t hesitate. “Sometimes, when a pony knows absolutely nothing about friendship, they can do a great deal of harm through sheer ignor—”
Spike kicked her under the table. From the corner of her eye, Twilight could see Celestia lower her head a bit. Celestia worked her jaw for a moment before she spoke. “What Twilight means is that, even if someone does something hurtful, friendship can overcome that hurt and paint a bright future.”
Twilight slumped in her chair and sent an apologetic glance toward Celestia. She was sure there would be a discussion about this later, but she was grateful for Spike’s burp of green flame to change the subject. As Spike reached out to catch the scroll, Twilight swiped it in her magic, unrolling it and reading the first words before the sparks of green flame had faded. After a few seconds, her ears folded back and she passed it to Celestia, muttering, “It’s for you.”
“Ah,” Celestia said, taking the scroll in her magic and reading, “Princess Luna informs me that the royal historians have located the treaty in the oldest section of our library. Although the Yang Dynasty’s cession of the Jade Valley ended a war, there is no record of the war in our archives. And a group of ponies did access this section of the archives nearly three years ago. That’s one mystery solved.” Celestia let her eyes wander down the scroll for a few more moments before she let it coil back up.
“A mystery solved, yes, but not the problem,” said Chancellor Jasmine. He pointed one sharp claw at Twilight. “You must remove these ponies before they destroy everything!”
Dream Pool reached across Prince Song and pushed Jasmine’s arm down to the table. “Why don’t we listen to what Princess Twilight has to say? It doesn’t seem like she would approve of a pony invasion.”
Twilight smiled. “Thank you, Secretary Dream Pool.” She looked at Jasmine and said, “I doubt that these ponies are trying to conquer anything. What is it they do in the Jade Valley?”
Jasmine cleared his throat, drawing a glance from Prince Song. “Farming, mining, and trading.”
“Oh,” said Twilight, “That doesn’t sound so bad. How do the pon— er, dragons in the Jade Valley feel about that?”
Prince Song shook his head. “We do not know. The artisan monks of the Jade Valley are—” he took a breath while he looked at Dream Pool “—difficult to deal with. Reclusive, you might say.”
Jasmine leaned over the table, stretching his arm in front of Prince song to point at Dream Pool. “They talk in circles! I can only hope that he can confuse the ponies half as much as he confused the court.”
Prince Song pushed Jasmine’s arm out of his personal space and pretended to smile. “Secretary Dream Pool is one of the few who regularly make the pilgrimage to the Silent Monastery.”
Dream Pool folded his arms on the table and sat up a bit straighter. “I find that if you can clear your mind, a solution to your problems will often present itself.”
“Exactly!” Twilight said, her ears perking up. “You have to step back and let your brain work on it from another angle while you don’t think about it. And I think a good book helps, too.”
“Hmmmph.” Jasmine scowled, his mustache hanging crooked across his face. “And why can’t you meditate in the palace like the rest of the court?”
Dream Pool smiled. “It’s easier to meditate when you don’t have politicians nattering in your ear.”
Celestia chuckled. “I should think so. But how do you ever get a politician to stop talking?”
“The monks find that a rattan switch applied directly to the muzzle is very effective.”
Spike snorted, then burst out laughing. “I bet that’d work great on Prince Blueblood!”
Twilight giggled. “I bet Rarity would love to see that.”
“Ooh!” Spike said, standing up in his chair. “Secretary Dream Pool, can I have a rattan switch?”
All three Lóng on the other side of the table were silently staring at Spike. After several seconds, Jasmine cleared his throat. “So your servant can speak.” He spread his hands in something between a shrug and a surrender. “And here we thought he was simply decoration, to show us how thoroughly you had subjugated Equestrian dragons.”
Twilight blinked several times, then haltingly turned toward Spike. He looked up at Twilight and whispered, “I don’t feel subjugated.”
“What was that,” Jasmine said, with a hand cupped behind one leathery ear. “Your servant must ask permissi—”
Twilight slammed her hooves on the table and shouted, “Spike is not a servant! Spike is one of my closest friends; he’s like a little brother to me.”
Jasmine casually waved in Spike’s direction. “Then why do you starve him? Keep him small.”
“I don’t sta—”
Spike interrupted Twilight with a hand on her shoulder. “Twilight, please. Let me answer this one.”
He hopped up onto the table, standing as tall as the alicorn princess. “I have been as large as a mountain. I have single-handedly defeated the Wonderbolts, Equestria’s top fast-response pegasus brigade. I, um…” He clasped his hands behind his back and blushed slightly, before poking at the table with a razor-sharp toe. “I looted the entire town of Ponyville. Nopony could stop me.”
Jasmine raised one eyebrow. “Then why are you not now enjoying your own nation?”
“Because,” Spike said with a bigger blush, grinning up into the air, “I was reminded of something more valuable than all the loot or power in the world.”
An excited murmur passed through the Yang delegation. They looked at Spike with wide eyes, sitting up taller on their haunches and leaning their long bodies forward. After a breathless silence, Prince Song spoke with trembling lips that sent waves down his shimmering white mustache. “And what is that, young mountain?”
“Friendship. No amount of gold or gems is worth the fortune I have right here in Twilight and my other friends.” Spike turned around to see tears clinging to the corners of Twilight’s eyes. Tears were threatening to mar his own smile, so he buried his face in her neck with a big hug.
Twilight returned the hug warmly, and as she let go of Spike she opened her eyes to see every one of the Yang delegation staring at the pair with gaping mouths and raised eyebrows. Spike climbed down off of the table as the Lóng began to frantically whisper among themselves.
Before the commotion died down, Twilight felt a warm wing on her back. She knew it meant ‘good job’ and she tried to enjoy it without thinking too much.
Dream Pool picked up his charcoal again, roughing out a pair of figures with rapid, sweeping strokes. Twilight watched the figures grow more distinct with each scratch against the paper, until she realized that he was going back and forth between two separate scenes. Her hug with Spike, and Celestia’s back pat. She had thought that Celestia’s gesture had been pretty subtle. Dream Pool must have a sharp eye to have noticed that. And Twilight didn’t realize she had been wearing such a huge grin.
Celestia cleared her throat loudly. “—circumstances. I judged that, should it ever hatch, its best chance for a happy life was to be part of a pony family.”
Twilight nodded her head solemnly, as if she had been following the conversation. Prince Song nodded back as he stroked his mustache. “Though he had everything a dragon would want, he gave it up for something so pony as friendship. And now he bends the ear of princesses. He must be very wise for you to place so much faith in him.”
Jasmine leaned back and huffed. “For such a young dragon to have such high position…”
“Yes,” said Dream Pool before blowing the charcoal dust off his paper. “The situation is different than you had feared.”
Jasmine opened his mouth to speak, but held his tongue when Prince Song raised his claw. “There is still the matter of this treaty.”
Spike’s stomach rumbled. He raised one hand and said, “There is also the matter of lunch.”
Dream Pool pointed his paintbrush at Spike and grinned. “I like this guy more and more.”
“Rather than dine separately,” Prince Song said as he unrolled another scroll, “why do we not share a meal? That is a universal ritual of friendship upon which we can all agree.”
Celestia smiled. “That sounds lovely. Why—”
Twilight cut her off. “There is already a meal prepared. Some of our finest cuisine is waiting just outside. I hope you can find something you like.” She raised a hoof without turning her head. “Heavyside, please have the meal brought in here, and then you and the guards can go have lunch as well. There’s no need to stand around in here. Oh, and make sure the Lóng guards don’t go hungry.”
“Yes, your highness.”
Within seconds, three ponies with carts rolled up to the table. A mare with curly blue hair slid a tray onto the polished wooden surface and said, “Are we serving lunch to the dragon guards in here, or…”
Prince Song waved his hand dismissively in the direction of the dragon guards as he settled a pair of wire-rim glasses on his muzzle, then returned his attention to the scrolls and papers in front of him.
The mare leaned toward Twilight without taking her eyes off of the dragon guards. “I don’t know what that means.”
The two groups of guards had begun to mingle quietly, filling the room with a soft murmur of conversation and laughter as they made their way through the main doors. Prince Song watched them file out with a grin like a grandfather humoring foals. “It seems all the guards will take lunch together.” He looked back toward Twilight. “I hope their conversation is more pleasant than ours is apt to be.”
______________________________________________
Twilight rolled the donut back and forth between her hooves, watching as one dragon and then another were visible through its hole. Her cheek was numb against the cold table, still scattered with crumbs from lunch, dinner, and a late-night dessert. Celestia droned on and on about things like tariff structures, immigration quotas, and deportation manifestoes, interrupted only by equally boring counter-proposals from Prince Song or Chancellor Jasmine.
Dream Pool was surely drawing again, capturing this very-unflattering moment as Twilight played the part of a child bored by the discussion of grownups. Even Spike was at least pretending to pay attention while a unicorn secretary scribbled away with a pair of quills floating parallel in her magic. Twilight’s eyes darted to the mare’s flank. As fun as it would be to write with two quills at once, a cutie mark in dictation was about the most boring thing Twilight could think of. And right now, she was an expert on “boring.”
Celestia studied the scroll of notes in front of her, then tapped it with her hoof. “Twilight, what do you think about—”
“It’s dumb.”
“Twilight,” Celestia said as she shifted her focus away from the scroll, “you haven’t even looked at it.”
Twilight glanced up without lifting her head from the table. “I can tell from here.”
Celestia sighed. “I know it’s late, but the Lóng delegation have come a very long way to meet with us, and the least we can do is work hard to come to a fair agreement regarding the Jade Valley and its residents.”
The donut fell over. Twilight let her hooves go limp on the table. “Then why isn’t anypony here from the Jade Valley?”
Dream Pool cleared his throat. “I think that I can speak for the interests of the dragons in the Jade Valley. And aren’t you here to speak for the ponies?”
“I, um. Yeah, that makes sense.” Twilight rubbed her face with her hooves and sat up straight. “Okay, let’s take a look at this. Uhhh… Yeah. I was right. This is dumb. If Equestria owns the Jade Valley, then why would we agree to all this stuff?”
Spike leaned over and said, “It’s a common-law principle called ‘adverse possession.’ Because Equestria never occupied the Jade Valley, or prevented the Yang Dynasty from treating it like their own territory, they have a legitimate claim to it.”
“Wait,” Twilight said with a hoof on her forehead. “How can the Yang Dynasty possibly have the same common-law principles as we do?”
Jasmine threw his hands in the air. “Pffft! She doesn’t pay attention.” He turned toward Prince Song and held a hand out toward Twilight. “She doesn’t even pay attention! Why is she here?”
Celestia smiled woodenly. “The first several hours of negotiations were us agreeing upon a set of international jurisprudence and case law.”
“Oh.” Twilight nodded and licked her lips. “I thought I had fallen asleep and was having the most boring nightmare ever.”
Jasmine dropped his elbow to the table, but left his hand extended toward Twilight. “Huh. She was paying attention.”
“Seriously, why does it matter? That war happened so long ago that nobody on either side can remember it! And it’s been their territory ever since.”
“De facto,” Spike added.
Twilight glanced at Spike, then turned back to Celestia. “Right. So, why does it matter? Why not just let them have it back?”
Celestia smiled at the dragons on the other side of the table. “Will you excuse us for just a moment?”
She leaned toward Twilight and activated her horn, generating a bubble that flowed outward and submerged both princesses in a shimmering silence. “Twilight, I understand that you are new to diplomacy, but you can’t unilaterally give them everything they’re asking for, and expect them to give up something without any way to enforce it.”
“Celestia, you brought me here to start a friendship with the Lóng, not to” —she crossed her eyes and spoke in a deeper voice— “enforce treaty provisions.” She looked at Celestia, clenching and unclenching her jaw. “Friendship isn’t about ‘enforcing.’ In fact, wouldn’t you say that trust is an important part of a relationship?”
Without blinking, Celestia spoke in an even voice. “This is not about you and I, Twilight. And friendship on an international scale is much different than an interpersonal scale. I need you to forget about the guards’ little seating error, and let me take the lead on this.”
Twilight crossed her hooves over her chest. “Again. You don’t trust me to handle things on my own. And you don’t trust the Lóng either.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you. You lack experience.” Celestia glanced at the shimmering surface of the bubble as if she could see through it. “And I don’t particularly mistrust the Lóng, but they haven’t yet earned our trust, and it would be foolish to extend it to them without some gesture on their part. Follow my lead.”
Twilight rolled her eyes and muttered, “You’re not exactly the princess of trust, are you?” She looked up to see the last of the silence bubble dissolving into golden threads that unraveled into the air. Her heart skipped a beat as she forced herself to look at Celestia.
Celestia was staring at Twilight with a mixture of disbelief and anger. Twilight was surprised at her lack of composure. They both turned to see several Lóng staring, with their tall leathery ears locked on like radar dishes. As the dragons began murmuring to each other, Celestia slowly twisted her neck to glare at Twilight in her subtle still-smiling way. At least she had her composure back.
Before Celestia could speak, Twilight stood. “Spike! What do you think of the treaty proposal?”
Spike snatched the papers off of the table, pursed his lips, and paused briefly, glancing at Twilight. She nodded her assent, and he exhaled a gentle lick of green flame, which turned orange as the paper became fuel and then ash.
A collective gasp arose from the other end of the table. While Prince Song sat motionless with a pinched brow, the others became restless. Jasmine raised himself on his tail, standing imposingly over everyone else at the table. “What is the meaning of this?” He flexed the claws on all four of his limbs.
Twilight planted her forehooves on the table. Her eyebrows were low but she was wearing a grin that would have been at home on Rainbow Dash. She glanced at Celestia, then announced, “Equestria relinquishes all claim to the disputed territory!” This time, Celestia gasped. Jasmine relaxed into a casual coil next to the others.
“Furthermore,” Twilight said as she lifted her chin, “Equestria opens their borders unconditionally to all Lóng: Yang Dynasty diplomats, businessdragons, and citizens. We also immediately cancel all tariffs and taxes on imports from and exports to the Yang Dynasty.”
“And what,” Prince Song asked, “do you demand in return?”
“We demand nothing. But as friends, we trust you to treat the residents of the Jade Valley, pony and Lóng, with respect. As friends, we suggest that you also relinquish your claim to the disputed territory. I understand that pony culture is more open than yours, but I encourage you to consider opening your borders as well, in time and according to your wisdom.”
Prince Song and Secretary Dream Pool conversed quietly before the elder again spoke up. “This thing is confusing. If you cede the Jade Valley, and we cede the Jade Valley, then what is to become of it?”
“I suppose they will have to run their own affairs. You said they mostly keep to themselves, anyway. This shouldn’t be much of a change for you or for them.”
“And of the Lóng who live in the Jade Valley? The ponies?”
“I suppose they will be free to stay, or leave, or dance in circles, or whatever they want. I actually have an idea for an exchange program, where a pony and a dragon trade houses. I think it would be a great way for ponies to learn the language and culture of the Lóng, and vice versa.”
Jasmine was still holding his hand out toward Twilight, but now his jaw was hanging limp. “Did… Did you see what she just did? She just got everything she wanted!”
Prince Song chuckled. “And did we not? We are free to deal with the ponies as we see fit. In addition to this, we have a plan that will help us understand their motives, and help them integrate into Yang society.”
“But, but what about the…” Jasmine held up a fistful of notes, shuffling through them one by one. “The arbitration procedures? Import and export quotas? Settlement allocation district division?”
Twilight stood up and stretched. “Nope. We’ve given up all control of the Jade Valley. There’s nothing left to negotiate. It was very nice meeting all of you, and I’d love to see you again, but it’s late and I have business in Canterlot. You’re all welcome to visit any time, though I actually live in Ponyville, where you are also welcome to visit any time.” She smiled again and trotted toward the double doors.
Celestia jumped to her hooves and quickly caught up to Twilight, trotting alongside her as Spike jogged up to her other side. The Lóng delegates stood up and waved their guards over before striding, as quickly as could be considered dignified, in the same direction. Celestia hurried a few paces ahead of Twilight and took a spot nearest the doorway, nodding to a unicorn guard who opened the doors in his magic.
While the dragon guards gathered up armfuls of notes and scrolls, Prince Song stopped in front of Spike and clasped his hands in front of his chest. He smiled and nodded slowly, his eyelids nearly closed. “This was certainly an unusual type of diplomacy. I hope you have occasion to visit us, Young Mountain.” He shifted his soft gaze to Twilight. “And you as well, Fenghuang.”
Twilight blinked and silently mouthed the word, trying to recall its significance. It was… some sort of rooster? No, a mythical bird. It was— Twilight couldn’t help but smile, opening her wings and stretching them toward the sky-colored stained glass above.
Prince Song smiled with his eyes. “Aaaaaah.”
All three dragons leaned back, until their horns touched the back of their necks. Twilight mimicked the gesture, stretching her neck and pointing her chin straight toward the ceiling rather than to the side. When she looked back down, the Lóng were smiling. Even Jasmine looked impressed. Dream Pool smirked and said, “It was nice to meet you.”
“Thanks, it wa—” Twilight scrunched her face and tried not to smile.
Dream Pool chuckled and smiled at Twilight as the trio shuffled past Celestia. She arched her neck in a perfect imitation of Twilight’s gesture, but somehow with far more grace. Twilight bit her tongue as all three dragons walked past Celestia and turned toward their own hallway.
“Twilight.”
That tone of voice carried the implied “we need to talk.” Twilight ignored it, stepping in front of Celestia and continuing into the hallway. A left turn, down the moonlit hallway, across the station platform, and then she would be on her way back to Canterlot. Except that Celestia wanted to talk. Talk and not listen.
“Twilight…” Celestia stepped around Twilight, blocking her path.
Twilight opened her mouth, then closed it when she felt Spike latch onto her foreleg. She let out a frustrated hum, then took a deep breath. “I’m sure you want to know why the Lóng snubbed you. And how it’s my fault. But now that you’re available to negotiate all the fun out of international friendships, I need to get back to Canterlot and help look for Flash Sentry.”
“I’m sorry for messing up your summit.” Celestia turned and took a single step, then waited for Twilight to fall into step beside her. “You were right. I should have let you handle it. I have some concerns, but they can be addressed another day.”
They walked silently for a few more steps before Celestia said, “I am curious, though. Prince Song called you… fenghuang. What does that mean?”
Twilight paused to let Spike clamber up onto her back. She smiled and held her head high. “Fenghuang is a mythical bird that reigns over all other birds, a symbol of virtue and grace. It is the counterpart of the Lóng, and ruler of the six celestial bodies.”
“Ruler of all the celestial bodies?” Celestia smirked and looked sideways at Twilight.
Twilight squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip. “The sun, the moon, the earth, the stars, and…” She opened her eyes and looked at Celestia with one eyebrow raised. “The wind? That’s five. I don’t remember the sixth.”
“Don’t ask me,” Celestia said, “you’re the expert.” She returned Twilight’s gaze. “Reigns over all the other birds? Ruler of the celestial bodies? How did you give them that idea?”
Twilight stopped walking. “Okay, first, you said we could have this conversation later. Second, I suspect they were being poetic. I don’t think they are under the impression I actually control the sun and the moon and everything else. And third, you gave them that idea when you showed up with smaller copies of my earrings that denoted you as my subordinate.”
Celestia let her earrings dissolve. “You could have told me, Twilight.”
“I tried. I tried to tell you. And you didn’t listen because you don’t trust me.” Twilight hissed the last words, and tried to ignore the feeling of Spike’s claws digging into her neck as he buried his face in her mane.
“You didn’t try very hard.”
“Okay. Maybe I did want to hurt you. I wanted to see you humiliated.” Twilight’s eyes burned with tears, and her voice was cracking. “You hurt me, and I wanted to hurt you back. Like a five year old. And you sure made it easy to give in.”
“Twilight, I— We have company.”
Over the blood pounding in her ears, Twilight could detect the sound of claws tapping on stone. She rubbed her face with a fetlock and tried to calm her breathing. She sniffed and turned around.
Dream Pool stopped immediately. He set down his bag and bowed his head. “Princess Twilight, sorrow paints your face like a willow at sunset. Am I interrupting something?”
Twilight shook her head and rubbed her muzzle again. “No. Well, yes, but it’s okay. And you can call me Twilight. I’m not fond of the title.”
Dream Pool nodded, then waved a claw in a swirling motion between the Princesses. “Is this about your… husband?”
Celestia’s ears pricked at the word. Twilight squinted at Dream Pool and said, “Well, we’re not married yet, but yes.”
“I hope you haven’t received bad news?”
“No, no bad news. No news at all. Just” —Twilight glanced at Celestia— “old business. How, uh, how do you know about that?”
Dream Pool laughed. “Yes, about that. Our guards rather enjoyed their time together. Your guards in particular were very open. They discussed politics, Equestrian society, even their own personal lives.”
“And mine.”
“Indeed. I’m sorry to hear of what happened to your husband. I wish him well.”
Twilight nodded and sniffled. “Thanks. And the word is fiancé, actually.”
“Fiancé, then.” He picked up his bag. “I’ve decided to stay in Equestria for a while, and I’d like to visit Canterlot. Your guards extended an invitation to share your train, which was quickly recanted in deference to your consent. I was hoping to converse with you and Spike during the ride.”
Twilight had barely opened her mouth to reply when Spike agreed for her. She smiled and said, “Well, there you have it.”
As they resumed walking, Celestia said, “I notice your earrings are gone.”
Dream Pool laughed again. “Yes, we only use them for the most formal of events. I will be glad when they have passed completely out of fashion, but the older dragons tell me that my opinion will change when I am the highest dragon in the room.”
Celestia giggled. “I wouldn’t know. Say, Twilight, did you enjoy having the longest earrings in the room?”
When Twilight did not respond, Celestia sighed. “She’s had a long day.”
“Yes,” said Dream Pool, “it is difficult to see one you love in so much pain.”
Twilight nodded. “It’s even harder when—”
Dream Pool cleared his throat. “I was talking to Celestia.”
Celestia gave a sort of half-smile. “Thank you, Dream Pool. You’re very… You’re right. It is difficult.”
San Franciscolt’s trademark fog had rolled across the station platform, smoothing the moonlight into a silver glow that saturated the air. Laurel and Heavyside chatted by the train’s open door, glancing occasionally toward the group as they approached. Celestia pulled Twilight aside, letting Dream Pool jog ahead. “Twilight, we need to talk. I was hoping we could spend some time on the train together.”
Twilight could feel Spike’s breath on her ear. She bit her lip before replying. “I thought you said this discussion could wait.”
Celestia shook her head. “This isn’t about the summit.”
Twilight sighed. “Fine. The train isn’t set up for somepony of your stature. Gimme a minute to rearrange some furniture to make room for you. And to help Dream Pool get settled in.”
“Thank you, Twilight.”
Twilight trotted up to the train, smiling at the group gathered by its doors. “Shall we?”
She followed them into the train and watched them file into the first passenger car, where the growing murmur of conversation was just beginning to wake a pair of pegasus guards sleeping next to their armor and empty dinner plates. One of the female dragon guards was already aboard and the center of attention for half a dozen stallions. Twilight turned to the conductor and asked, “Are we ready to go?”
The stallion tipped his hat back and nodded. “Yes, ma’am. The engineer has the boiler stoked and rarin’ to go.”
Without turning away from the conductor or dropping her smile, Twilight closed the door with her magic. “All aboard, then.”
The conductor echoed her call, louder and with gusto. Twilight winced and made a mental note to never utter the phrase ‘all aboard’ while standing next to a conductor. The train lurched three times, as each car came to rest against the next car’s coupler. Spike tugged on Twilight’s mane as she trotted into the first passenger car. “Hey, Twilight?”
“Mhmmm?” Twilight said as she sat on a bench near the window.
Spike hopped down to the seat and pulled off his earrings with a grimace. “Wasn’t Celestia going to ride on the train with us?”
“Oh, no,” Twilight mumbled as she kept her eyes fixed on the seat in front of her, “I must have forgotten.” Out of the corner of her eye, Twilight saw the station platform slide by, faster and faster as the seconds ticked past. Soon, the station’s lights had faded into the fog, and Twilight sighed. “She’ll be fine, Spike. I just didn’t feel like having that conversation right now.”
Spike reached up and carefully removed Twilight’s earrings. “I wasn’t worried about her.”
Twilight leaned over, touching her forehead to his with a smile. “Thanks, Spike.”
Spike yawned, covering his mouth with one hand. “Don’t stay up too late. I’m going to take a nap. Can you call it a nap if it’s at night?” He scratched his head, then shrugged. “We’ll have a few hours to talk to Dream Pool in the morning, before we get to Canterlot. Good night.” He ambled toward the sleeper car, clutching the earrings above his head to avoid dragging them on the floor.
The window steadfastly refused to show Twilight the landscapes that were surely speeding past. No matter how much she squinted, only Twilight looked back at her, squinting and trying to see into her eyes. Green hills and scrubby trees snuck by unseen, the same ones that escaped her notice on the way into San Franciscolt. She was missing everything in life, coming and going. Then, she was being too introspective and metaphorical about it.
She rolled her eyes at the pony in the window and leaned back in her seat with a huff. A clatter of dishes and the rattle of armor being hastily donned drew everypony’s attention as one of the pegasus guards cried out, “We’re moving! We left her behind!”
One of them leapt over a bench seat and tumbled to a stop in front of Twilight, panting as he squirmed into his golden plates. “Princess Twilight, we need, need to stop the train! P-princess Celestia is… We left her behind!”
Twilight shook her head. “Celestia chose to be alone.”
The other pegasus landed next to his partner and dropped the helmet he’d been carrying in his hooves. “What? What does that mean?”
Twilight shrugged. “I guess you’ve got the night off. Try and have some fun. I think I heard them talking about a game of cards over there.”
Dream Pool stepped up beside the pegasus guards, fidgeting with his lustrous black mane. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I had assumed that Princess Celestia rode the train here, with you?”
“Oh, no,” Twilight said. “We came separately.”
“Yes, she only recently recovered from the ordeal with your fiancé. Tell me,” Dream Pool said, sitting on the seat across from Twilight and leaning forward, “is there any news of his whereabouts or condition?”
Twilight shook her head. “Not since he disappeared from the infirmary. It seems like you know as much about him as I do.” She pretended to look out the window, instead focusing on the reflections of the guards who’d shared everything they knew. “Maybe more,” she murmured under her breath.
Dream Pool stared out the window as well, looking so deeply and so long that Twilight wondered if his dragon eyes could pierce the darkness and look beyond the room’s reflection. She felt awkwardly constrained to continue facing the window in silence.
Luna had said that Flash would need to be institutionalized. What exactly would that mean? Twilight couldn’t think of any experience she’d had with mental institutions. There was that one mare in the Ponyville Hospital who was always barking at everypony. She’d been there for as long as Twilight had been in Ponyville, and the girls had talked like she’d been there for a long, long time, and didn’t seem to be getting any better.
That was Ponyville, though. It wasn’t high-security, and it wasn’t an institution. If anything, it was mostly a place to make sure that she was fed and taken care of. Anypony in charge of her care had probably given up on treatment years ago. But the Guard should have some sort of resources to deal with a recent psychological trauma. Or not, given the lack of any real conflict in the last thousand years. Then again, there had been a few fatalities during Shiny’s wedding.
And that was something else that Celestia hadn’t wanted her to know. True, she had been younger then, but even Shiny had thought she was mature enough to know what had really happened. If he hadn’t told her the truth, she might never have known how bad the situation really was. Celestia had always underestimated her maturity and capability. Disregarded her input.
No, that couldn’t be true, because she’d never have become Celestia’s personal student if Celestia didn’t believe in her capabilities and value her opinions. Twilight squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath before looking herself in the eyes again. The good guys weren’t supposed to be the bad guys. It was so much simpler when Twilight knew who to zap, Celestia said good job, and Pinkie threw a party.
Maybe all Flash needed was a good old-fashioned Pinkie Pie Party? Or maybe they should pull the Elements of Harmony out of that tree and zap Flash back to reality. It worked for Nightmare Moon, but then again she’d been evil at the time. Although Flash was currently sort of evil. In only two days, he’d beaten three mares – including his fiancée – and several of his own friends.
Flash’s ordeal was the kind of thing that turned normal ponies into supervillains, at least in all of Spike’s comics. And this is where Spike would have thrown his hands into the air and shouted at the characters in his comic book, begging them to see the foreshadowing and warning them to recognize the violent signs of impending villainhood.
What if he never got better? Twilight didn’t want to think about it, but the question wouldn’t stop nagging at the edges of her consciousness. She could see him, bound in a straitjacket, writhing and thrashing on the floor of a padded room as he tried to bite the hooves of nurses and orderlies. Spending his every waking moment trying to escape, willing to hurt anypony in his way. He would never experience a hug again, never hear anypony say ‘I love you.’
And where would that leave her? She felt selfish thinking about it, but she couldn’t be expected to stay engaged to an insane stallion who hated her guts. At some point, nopony would blame her if she gave up and started looking for another stallion. Not that she’d been looking for a stallion when Flash had shown up and swept her off her hooves. She almost chuckled. Some sweeping. She hadn’t even realized she was on a date. He’d seemed so adorably clueless, even though he was the one with all the dating experience.
Was it something about her that made confident stallions turn into blubbering colts? Was there something wrong with her? Maybe Celestia was right. Flash was the only stallion to ever show any interest in her. There must be something wrong with her, that most stallions just run away. No, not even run away – just not see her as a potential romantic interest.
Flash would spend the rest of his life chained up in a high-security asylum, and Twilight would spend the rest of her life a spinster. Living alone, in a cold castle, surrounded by professionally-polite guards and diplomats, all of whom have no more interest in her than her books do.
“Twilight Sparkle, I have a proposal.”
Twilight nearly jumped. “I’m sorry,” Twilight said, blinking herself out of her introspection, “the time to make a proposal was during the summit. If you have anything to add, we’ll have to convene another meeting where all parties can be present.”
Dream Pool smiled and shook his head as he stepped across the space between them and sat down next to her. “No, the proposal isn’t for Equestria. It’s for you. Personally.”
Twilight choked on air, then cleared her throat and looked at Dream Pool with wide eyes. “W-what?”
Luna cocked her head, but did not turn around. Her mane and tail billowed like oily smoke from the moss where she lay, staring across the stagnant river into the twisted shadows of mangrove roots. She crossed her hooves in front of her and spoke quietly, almost reverently, as if to avoid disturbing the dawn’s stillness. “And who are you talking to this time?”
Flash coughed, haltingly, grunting and wincing as each spasm sent electric shocks through his entire body. “Luna, p-please,” he panted, gasping between each word, “wake me up.”
Luna took a deep breath, sighed, then fell silent. With his ear submerged in the mud, Flash could hear the burrowing action of unseen creatures beneath him as well as he could hear the grinding of his cracked ribs with each shallow breath. Every leaf or drop of water that landed on the bog sent an audible smack through the ground, but Luna did not. She wasn’t moving. Not squirming. Not fidgeting.
Twilight’s hoofsteps were painfully loud as she squished her way back and forth, leaving deep impressions in the soft ground. She paused to shake a glob of mud from her hoof. “You could wake up if you wanted to.” She jabbed a hoof at Luna. “She isn’t holding you here. You’re just lazy. And weak. You don’t want to go back.”
Spots and brilliant flashes of color danced across the gloomy treescape. Flash passed quickly backward, then rushed forward again, whimpering as he reached a foreleg out to steady himself. “N-no, I…”
Luna growled, then stood up. She turned around and took the few steps to stand next to Twilight, both of them looking down at Flash with a mixture of pity and disdain. Luna’s hooves hadn’t left a mark on the earth.
For a long moment, nopony spoke. Trying to look up at either princess was too much of a strain, so Flash just stared at their hooves with his one eye that wasn’t pressed into the mud. Finally, Luna said, “Flash Sentry, I’m trying to help you.”
Flash glanced upwards, trying to breathe without breathing.
Luna shook her head. “Your problem isn’t the broken ribs, or the bleeding wings, or the fact that you’re lost in the middle of a swamp while everypony is looking for you in Canterlot. The problem is” —she lifted a hoof and tapped his forehead with each word— “in your head. Until you understand that you are awake, that this is the real world… Until you believe that Twilight’s betrayal never happened, then nothing I can do will help you.”
The muddy hoofprints covering the ground suddenly seemed more confusing. It was no longer clear who had left the tracks, or where they began. Indistinct. The entire swamp seemed to be melting away at the edges of his vision.
Twilight knelt down on the soft ground and caressed Flash’s cheek. “See? The dream is fading away.”
Flash closed his eye and almost nodded. He was getting warmer, like being wrapped in a blanket.
“The weather is wild in the Everfree, even this close to Canterlot.” Luna stood up and turned toward the river. “Heavy rains, all night, just to the north. You’re running out of time.”
Flash opened his eyes. The fetid water was already covering one nostril and seeping into his mouth. It was gritty, and tasted vaguely of fish and sewage.
“Give up on Twilight. The Twilight you know, the one who betrayed you… She isn’t real. All those years you were asleep, and you dreamed the worst thing. What you have for her isn’t love.” Luna shifted her weight, making sloshing noises with her hooves. “I can see dreams, you know. You’re not asleep, but I can tell that she’s talking to you. Twilight isn’t here. She’s in Canterlot, hoping to find you safe and sound.”
Flash tried to lift his head, but the muscles in his neck tugged against his ribs, grinding the broken ends against each other. Instead, he just twisted his neck, levering his muzzle out of the water long enough to inhale. Luna turned and looked at him over her shoulder. Twilight was still smiling down at him. He smiled back.
As he exhaled, blowing a series of bubbles that lingered on the surface and clung to his muzzle, Luna frowned. “I could stabilize your ribs with my magic. Carry you back to Canterlot.” She turned and stood next to him. “Let Twilight care for you like a sick puppy, just waiting for you to bite her again. Falling deeper into disillusionment and bitterness.”
Flash twisted his head again for another shallow breath before letting his face splash back down into the water. Twilight lay down in the mud next to him and nuzzled his cheek. He returned her affections, rubbing mud into her fur.
“No.” Luna’s wings twitched. “I’m going to watch you drown. When your body grows cold and stiff, I’ll bring you back to Canterlot. Explain how I found you too late. Twilight will be angry. She will mourn. And she will move on.”
A slow fire was building up in his lungs, filling his legs with an itching heat, an undeniable restlessness. He couldn’t get air fast enough, and he couldn’t hold his nose out of the water long enough to take more than a couple shallow breaths. Bright colors swam in his vision as he splashed his hooves about and tried to breathe around the water in his mouth. “H-help!”
Luna tensed, lowering her head slightly with the faintest hint of magic collecting at the tip of her horn. Flash spat out a mouthful of water along with Twilight’s name as he reached out to her.
Luna relaxed with a sigh as she looked down at Flash. “Equestria can’t handle this much dissention between its princesses. The issue must be resolved. Unless you abandon Twilight and acknowledge reality, then you are standing in the way of what is best.”
Thrashing turned to flopping as the fire in Flash’s limbs grew into a cold numbness. He couldn’t get his muzzle above water, and could no longer resist the desperate urge to inhale. The feeling of water splashing down his throat triggered a violent coughing fit, which only pulled more water into his nose and mouth. After a few seconds, he willed his muscles to relax, leaving the swamp silent except for the ringing in his ears.
“This is best for Equestria. More importantly, this is best for Twilight.” Luna looked down at Flash with cold, sharp eyes. “Don’t you want what’s best for Twilight? Let. Her. Go.”
It sounded like Luna was talking into a bucket, from very far away. The urge to inhale was completely gone. Flash didn’t remember closing his eyes, but he must have.
______________________________________________
“Dear Princess Celestia…”
Spike held his quill above the paper, staring at Twilight with one eyebrow as high as it would go. “Was there more, or did you just want me to write that five times?”
“I just…” Twilight slumped deeper into the mattress, casually flicking one of the pillows to the floor. “I don’t have anything to say to her.”
“Come on, Twilight. It’s not a real letter. I’m going to burn it, not send it. You need to express your feelings.”
Twilight pulled back the blinds and squinted at the cloudless dawn pushing the last vestiges of color out of the sky. How much faster does dawn occur when one is traveling eastward? At the speed of a train, the difference is probably dwarfed by the standard deviation of Celestia’s timing and artistic flair. Still, though, with a large enough sample size and precise angular measurement, she could probably determine an upper bound. Maybe an automated system, mounted on every train in Equestria, that recorded the train’s velocity and heading during sunrise or sunset, corresponding to angular measurements of the sun’s position. Then, those could be compared for eastbound and westbound trains, as well as a stationary location for a control.
Spike cleared his throat.
Twilight closed the blinds and looked back toward Spike. “Since when are you the responsible adult around here?”
“Since you stopped being one. You know how important it is to resolve friendship problems.”
“Well, maybe I don’t want friendship with her. The Celestia that I knew—”
They both paused at a knock on the sleeper car’s door. Twilight rolled off the bed and tossed the covers into a pile against the window, then pulled the curtain in front of the bed with her magic. After running a hoof through her mane, she took a deep breath, forced a smile, and said, “Come in.”
Dream Pool peeked around the edge of the door with a smile. “Good morning, Twilight. Spike.” His indigo eyes swept across the lavishly decorated sleeper car. “May I come in?”
Twilight looked down at Spike, then back up. “Okay.”
“I’ve just shared,” Dream Pool said as he elbowed the sliding door open, saucer and teacup in each hand, “a traditional morning tea ceremony with your guards.”
“Oh really?” Twilight said. “What do you call it?”
“Breakfast.” Dream Pool gave a wide, toothy grin as he held out a teacup to Twilight.
Spike snickered as Twilight fought a smile on her own face. “Thanks, but I’m more of a hot cocoa girl myself. If that’s, umm, okay with you.”
“I’m not offended,” said Dream Pool as sat down, sweeping his robes from behind him with his tail. He set both saucers on a tiny end table before taking a sip from one of the steaming cups. “We share the things we enjoy so that we can bring happiness to others. What sort of things do you enjoy sharing with Flash Sentry?”
“Umm… Books.” Twilight sat on an overstuffed cushion and watched Spike climb back into his bed with a comic book.
Dream Pool nodded, his jet-black mane glistening in the sunlight that filtered around the edges of the curtain behind him. “What sort of books does he enjoy?”
“Well, the same books that I do.”
“Really? Hmmm. What sorts of things does he share with you?”
Twilight let her eyes wander toward the ceiling for a few moments. “Uhhh, sandwiches.” She looked back to Dream Pool, but didn’t make eye contact. “He likes sandwiches.”
Dream Pool set his teacup back on the saucer and raised an eyebrow. “You are united by your love of sandwiches?”
Twilight shifted on her cushion and cleared her throat. “It sounds silly when you say it like that. He likes fancy sandwiches and he makes them for me sometimes. It’s something he enjoys that he shares with me. How is that different from tea?”
“My apologies,” he said with a bow, “I didn’t mean to offend you. Tea is appropriate for new acquaintances such as ourselves, but for betrothed I was expecting something more… substantial.”
Spike flipped a page in his comic book. Teacups and saucers clinked as the train hit a small bump in the tracks.
Dream Pool spoke again. “Unless that is too personal. I don’t want to pry into your private life beyond what you are willing to share.”
“No, it’s okay,” Twilight said with a sigh. “I just… Nopony has ever asked me these kinds of questions before. Why are you so interested?”
“So many leaders are, hmmm, how should I say it? Like a royal garden. Their appearance and perception is immaculately manicured, so the public – and especially foreign dignitaries – see only a flawless mask.” He leaned forward and tapped his lips with one claw. “But you. You’re different. I know more about your personal life, your history, and your problems than I know about Prince Song. You’re different, and that makes me curious. You want our nations to be friends, and I like that. And, as friends, I want to help you with your problem. Have you considered my proposal?”
Twilight bit her lip and rubbed her shoulder with a fetlock. “Well that’s, uh, thanks. I have thought about it, but I still don’t know where Flash is, or if he’s even alive. I’ll have to see what his condition is before I can make a decision. I’d like to talk to Luna and my friends about it, too.”
Dream Pool nodded, reaching out an arm to steady himself as the train lurched.
“Speaking of which,” Twilight said as she pushed some curtains aside to peer outside, “it looks like we’re in Canterlot.”
Dream Pool threw back the curtains on his side of the car, twisting effortlessly in a half circle that made Twilight’s neck hurt. “It’s beautiful, and so different from San Franciscolt.”
“Yes, we have a wide range of topography in Equestria. And a lot of different cultures, too. I grew up here in Canterlot, and it’s very different from Ponyville.” Twilight stood up and stretched as the screeching brakes rang through the cabin. “I’m afraid that I have business to attend to, but I’m sure you can find something in Canterlot to… I’ll be at the castle if you need me.”
“Yes, you should prioritize your fiancé.” Dream Pool waved a hand as Twilight slung a saddlebag over her back. “Do you have any suggestions for wh—”
Twilight summoned a scroll into the air in front of the dragon’s face with a pop and a burst of purple light. “I made a list of places you and the other dragons should visit while you’re here in Canterlot.”
Dream Pool grabbed the scroll and slid off the ribbon holding it together. “Thank you, this is…” The scroll unrolled, spilling onto the floor and continuing across the carpet. Dream Pool licked his lips and raised an eyebrow. “Very thorough.”
Twilight gingerly stepped over the scroll on her way out of the car. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to miss anything bored. Bye!”
Dream Pool pinched his eyebrows together as he mouthed Twilight’s last few words.
Spike tucked his comic book under his arm as he jogged past. “She couldn’t decide whether to say, ‘wouldn’t want you to miss anything good’ and ‘wouldn’t want you to get bored.’ Her brain mashed them together before the words got to her mouth. She’s probably outside, banging her head on a wall right now. It was good to see you again, bye!”
“B-bye.” Dream Pool watched Spike make his way through the next car, then turned and peered through the window at the ponies gathered on the train platform.
______________________________________________
Luna stepped closer to the motionless stallion, leaning down and squinting. “Flash?”
The last bubbles from Flash’s muzzle dissolved on the surface as the murky water lapped over his unblinking eye.
Pushing the gnarled wing out of her way, Luna pressed a hoof to the stallion’s ribs. She tried to detect any motion in his chest, but her own breaths came faster and faster until she could no longer tell whether it was her or the world that was shaking. “FLASH!”
______________________________________________
Twilight tried not to gallop as she made her way across the station platform to the first guard she saw. “Sir, is—”
“Your Highness.” The guard bowed.
“Yeah, hi.” Twilight waved a hoof. “Is there any news on Flash Sentry?”
“No, ma’am. Princess Luna didn’t share anything with us.”
“Alright. Thanks any—” Twilight froze. “Wait. She has news, but didn’t share it?”
The stallion raised an eyebrow. “Not since the letter she sent you, I don’t think.”
“Letter?” Twilight glanced at Spike then back to the guard. “What letter?”
The guard took a step backward, bumping into the wall. “The letter she sent to Spike while you two were at the summit.”
Twilight turned to Spike and hissed, “Celestia read that letter, and she didn’t say anyth—”
Spike reached up and clamped a hand over Twilight’s mouth. “Of course she didn’t. Look how you’re acting. I bet she was waiting till the summit was over. That’s probably what she wanted to tell you when you left her behind in San Franciscolt.”
Twilight huffed and sat down, crossing her forelegs across her chest. “I guess I can’t honestly blame her for this one.” She looked at the guard and gave a half-smile that she hoped would qualify as disarming. “I didn’t get the letter. Was it good news or bad news?”
The guard took off his helmet and looked at the ground. “I’m sorry. It’s not good news.” He looked back up at Twilight. “Like I said, she didn’t share anything with us, but Princess Luna was very upset when she came back yesterday morning. That’s just what I’ve heard from the other guards.”
Twilight stared straight ahead with glazed eyes, trying to concentrate on the pulse pounding in her ears instead of the voice pounding in her head. Finally, she shook her head and leapt to her hooves, then turned and began galloping toward the castle, leaving Spike standing next to the station guard.
______________________________________________
A pair of gold-clad unicorn guards stood in the hallway, shuffling their hooves and alternating their gazes between each other and the floor, with an occasional quick glance up at Twilight. She jabbed a hoof at the castle infirmary doors behind them and said, “I know he’s in there. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be guarding the door.”
One of the guards stepped forward and spoke softly. “I honestly don’t know, Your Highness. Our orders were to instruct you to go see Princess Luna in her chambers. We were not warned about any potential escape attempts. Had that been the case, we would have been stationed on the inside of the doors.”
Twilight looked at the doors again. They weren’t chained. She reached out with her magic and tugged on one of the latches. It released with a click, and the door began to swing open.
The guard kicked the door closed with a rear hoof. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but our orders were specifically to keep you out.”
Twilight lifted her chin and tried to affect an air of regality. “And I’m giving you different orders. Let. Me. Through.”
The other guard shuffled his hooves and glanced back toward the doors. “I don’t, uh, I don’t know the procedure here. But Princess Luna did specifically say to disregard any orders from you that contradicted her orders. And any orders that contradicted that one. Add in finnuh, um, something.”
Twilight put a hoof to her forehead and sighed. “Ad infinitum.”
“Yeah, that was it.”
“But,” Twilight said, her eyes darting from one guard to the other, “you have to know something. Surely you’ve heard something?”
“Eeeeeeeh,” the one on the left said as he scratched the back of his head, “Princess Luna specifically forbid everyone from listening to or spreading rumors.”
“It’s not spreading rumors if you’re telling me, is it?”
“Well, I suppose—”
“No!” The other guard held a gold-shod hoof in front of his comrade. “She should just go see Princess Luna and get the truth.”
Twilight took a step forward. “I’m tired of running around! I want to know NOW! What are the rumors?”
Both guards took a step backward. The one on the left gulped and looked at the other, then said, “P-pretty much everyone agrees that Princess Luna dropped Flash Sentry off in the infirmary, and left crying. But nopony can agree what exactly happened.”
The other guard nodded. “Some say he was dead, others say he was just asleep.”
Twilight bit her lip. “Dead? What happened?”
“They… They say he committed suicide when he found out you’re pregnant. He tried to rip off his own wings; I heard that first-hoof from one of the medics who had to re-set the shoulder where he’d pulled it out of joint.”
“Yeah, supposedly he chewed all his feathers off before he jumped off the mountain. I guess he wanted to be more like an earth pony, like the stallion you… uh—” he waved a hoof in circles “—you know.”
Twilight blinked. “N-no. None of that is true! Wait. Okay, some of it is true. But not the parts about me!” She facehoofed. Without looking up, she growled. “Grrrraugh. I’m not pregnant. Celestia told him that to see how he would react. Some kind of dumb test. He did injure his wings before he escaped, but that’s the last I’d heard.”
“Oh, that’s good news.” The guard’s eyes crossed for a second. “Wait. Some of it is. Did you say that Princess Celestia did this to him?”
“Uh huh,” Twilight said, craning her neck to look past the guards. “Look, I need to see Flash, so—”
“But why would she do that?” the other guard said. “To one of her own guards?”
“Because she doesn’t trust him,” Twilight snapped. “She never has. And she doesn’t trust me, either. Now if you’ll excuse me” —Twilight stepped forward and shouldered her way in between the guards— “I need to see Flash.”
Both guards braced their rear legs and leaned against Twilight, pushing against her as she tried to shove them both backward. “Your Highness! You can’t go in!”
The other guard gritted his teeth. “P-princess Luna said it, rrrngh, was very important! We won’t allow you through!”
Twilight took a step backward and caught her breath. “You don’t have to allow anything.”
Both guards lifted off the ground in a glow of violet energy, frantically treading air as they floated to opposite sides of the hallway. Twilight stepped between them and cleared her throat, then spoke softly as she looked at the ground. “Thank you for your help.”
Just as Twilight reached the door, one of the guards shouted, “Your Highness!”
Twilight sighed and leaned her forehead against the door. “What is it now—”
“TWILIGHT!”
Twilight froze in mid-flinch, then slowly turned around. Princess Luna stood with her head high, staring down her muzzle at Twilight. “Will you please put down the guards?”
Nodding, Twilight lowered the pair of stallions to the floor, and released them from her magic. She looked up at Luna and said, “I just—”
“Twilight, you are making irrational decisions out of anger and fear. Trust me when I say that things will not turn out well if you continue down this path.” Luna sighed, then stretched out a wing to Twilight. “Come with me. We have much to discuss.”
“But,” Twilight said, glancing back at the door, “what about Flash? Nopony has even told me whether he’s alive!”
Luna pursed her lips. “That is… Complicated.”
“H-how is it complicated? He’s either alive or he’s not!”
Luna turned around and took a step down the hall. “Walk with me.”
The two shuffled wordlessly along the halls, their hoofsteps echoing down the marble corridors, as Luna’s head sank farther and farther and her gait became slower and slower. Finally, Luna took a shuddering breath and whispered, “I can’t let you see him.”
“Yeah, I gathered that.” Twilight leaned down to look Luna in the eyes. “What did you mean by ‘complicated?’”
Luna avoided Twilight’s gaze, turning her head the other direction. “I-I’m sorry, Twilight. I tried to save him. I did. I really did. But he’d rather die than… Rather die than let go of the illusion.” She looked up at Twilight and opened her mouth, then returned her eyes to the floor. “I let him drown.”
______________________________________________
Luna was not gentle. If Flash had been conscious he would have been screaming, but Luna knew that every second he wasn’t breathing was another second his brain was without oxygen.
The water pouring out of his throat slowed to a dribble, so she pressed her lips against his and pushed as much air into his lungs as she could. Without bothering to check for a reaction, she lifted him into the air with her magic, rear end up, and wrapped her forelimbs around his chest. Each squeeze pushed more water out of him, and risked a sharp chunk of bone puncturing his lungs.
When the last gurgles had stopped, Luna dropped him back to the ground and hastily wiped away the mucus and mud that had bubbled out of his mouth. She leaned over him and fit her mouth over his again and exhaled, then turned and spat out a mouthful of slime before pressing on his chest with her hooves. “Please, Flash, wake up. Twilight needs you.”
Another breath, and another mouthful of slime. “Celestia needs Twilight. Wake up, please wake up.”
Luna tried to give him another breath, but his tongue had fallen out of his mouth, preventing an airtight seal around his lips. She took a deep breath, wrapped her tongue around his, and pulled it into her mouth as she filled his lungs. His body jerked and spasmed, sending both of them into a coughing fit. Luna pulled him into a hug and cradled his head on her shoulder as they both continued to cough. “Thank you thank you thank you…”
After they both had taken a few breaths, Luna lifted Flash in her magic and wrapped his chest in a glittering translucent bandage. He winced and grunted as it tightened, then took several shallow breaths without coughing. He tried to lift his head. “T-twilight?” His voice was coarse and raspy. “What… What happened?”
Luna lowered him back into her forelegs and let him rest his head on her shoulder. “No, Flash, this is Luna. Do you remember what happened?”
He suppressed a cough and croaked, “I tried to fly with Twilight, but… These aren’t my wings. I don’t have wings. I fell, and… I fell. Then when I, I pulled myself out of the water. You and Twilight were arguing, I think.”
Luna felt one of his ears perk up at about the same time she could feel Twilight dig herself out of his subconscious. Twilight’s words were faint, echoing through Luna’s mind but not her ears. Luna took a deep breath and looked up at the sky, then helped Flash sit up. “Let me tell you what happened.”
His eyes were shifting between Luna and a volume of empty space just off to her side. She reached out with both hooves and held his muzzle so that he had no choice but to look into her eyes. “I told you that this is the real world. Your prison was the dream. This Twilight that you see here? She’s the nightmare. She’s not real. She lied to you. But this is the real world, here and now, Flash.
“So I gave you a choice. Either give up on this delusion, this nightmare, this spiteful Twilight who haunts you… Give up on your love and your hate for her, or give up on reality and let yourself drown. Do you remember that?”
Flash squinted and wrinkled his eyebrows.
“Do you remember your answer?”
He shook his head and winced, then gingerly wrapped a foreleg around his chest.
“You gave up on her. I was afraid you were going to let yourself drown, but you did it. You agreed to give her up.” She could see his eyes darting to the side. “No! You can’t listen to her any more. She’s not real. You promised.”
Luna relaxed her grip enough to let him turn his head and look at Twilight. His eyes followed her movement while his lips twitched like a foal learning to read. With a sigh, Luna sent a surge of power to her horn.
The swamp erupted in a firestorm, swirling around them as they sat in the eye of a towering tornado of flame. Flash lunged for Twilight, but it took almost no effort for Luna to hold him in place. His wide eyes reflected the flames as his ears drooped.
In an instant, the roar was gone and the swamps silence wrapped around them again. Smoke and steam rose from the blackened ground between slimy green puddles. Flash’s eyes were still locked onto Twilight. Luna pulled his face back toward her own. “See? That would have burned anypony, even Twilight. What you are looking at is a hallucination. Do you understand?”
Flash looked at the sky and squinted. “She—” he coughed, wincing and hugging himself “—she’s tricking me. The sky, and my wings, and and when I believe it, it, it hurts. But I, I always fall for it. And then I wake up and I, I, I hear her laughing. They both laugh at me and—”
“Shhhhh. No, you won’t wake up there, ever again. You’re awake now. And I promise they won’t laugh at you.”
“She’s laughing now,” Flash said, glancing over Luna’s shoulder.
Luna shook her head. “That isn’t her. You’ve been away from the real Twilight Sparkle for so long that you’ve forgotten who she is.”
Flash looked at Luna. “When was the last time I saw her? T-the real her.”
“Well, ah…” Luna bit her lip. “Technically, you saw her yesterday.”
“When was yesterday?”
“Ummmm…”
“Was yesterday real?”
“Okay.” Luna sat up straight and planted her front hooves in the moss in front of her. “Three days ago, you and Twilight came to meet Celestia for tea. Celestia put you under a spell, and you spent a long time in a dream, tormented by a nightmare of Twilight. Then you woke up, and we didn’t know how bad you were. Do you remember seeing two Twilights in the same room?”
Flash nodded once.
“Did that ever happen before you woke up in the castle?”
He wrinkled his forehead for a moment, then shook his head.
“See?” Luna smiled. “You’re starting to put the pieces together.”
Flash shook his head. “I always knew. Always knew she was, s-sh... She wasn’t, uh, she was a hallucination.”
Luna raised her eyebrows. “You knew?”
“I’m, I’m the only one here. They welded the door shut.”
“No, the—” Luna massaged her temples with her hooves “—Ugh. The prison never happened. That was the dream.”
Flash blinked. “When was yesterday?”
Luna looked around the swamp. “I need a… a calendar.” She grabbed his face again. “Look. The dream started with Twilight’s betrayal, and ended when you woke up and punched Twilight, the real one, in the tea room.”
“It felt like p-punching a tree.” Flash held up his foreleg and flexed the joints before looking up at Luna and whispering, “She was real?”
“Yes. I’m real too.” She scooped up a hoofful of mud, then rubbed it in his blue mane, grinning as she swirled it around his scalp. “The swamp is real. If—”
Luna paused as a glittering swirl of magic sailed through the air and coalesced into a scroll in front of her. She caught it in her magic and unrolled it, speaking as she read. “Here’s a letter from Spike. He and Twilight are in San Franciscolt right now, you know, meeting with a delegation from some far-off land. Ah, it says she needs certain materials from the library. What a surprise.” She let the paper roll itself back up and tucked it behind one ear.
“I’m sure,” Luna said, more to herself than to Flash, “that one of the scouts must have seen that pillar of fire. Yes, there he is.” She fired a tiny ball of light from her horn and watched it shoot into the air and burst into a strobe.
In seconds, a white-coated pegasus in lightweight armor landed before Luna and stood at attention.
Luna began giving orders as she passed the scroll to him in a glow of indigo magic. “Take this to the library archivists and have them begin collecting the information immediately. Then report to the infirmary and tell them to prepare to treat fractured ribs, water aspiration, and skin infection. And there should be no need for security precautions this time. Isn’t that right?” She glanced at Flash but didn’t wait for a reply. “That is all.”
The guard snapped off a quick salute and took to the air.
“Now,” Luna said as she lay down on the ground and surrounded Flash in a glow of magic, “Let’s get you to Canterlot.”
______________________________________________
“So, he’s basically okay now?”
Luna looked up at Twilight. “No. What part of anything I just said makes you think that he’s okay?”
“Well, the part where he understands that he’s living in the real world now. I thought that was a definitive step forward.”
“He doesn’t understand anything.” Luna stood up and took a deep breath. “He believes that he agreed to it. That’s all.”
“Still though,” Twilight said as she turned back toward the infirmary, “a few days of actual living and walking around and just being with other ponies, and he should be better.”
“Twilight, where were you ten years ago?”
Twilight stopped walking. “I… I’d just started fifth grade.”
“Ten years ago, Flash lost his fiancée and his wings, in the same day.”
“But—” Twilight ran back to Luna and looked up into her eyes “—he’s got me back now. He’s got his wings back.”
Luna wrapped a wing around Twilight. “It’s not so simple as that. For him, it was real. You betrayed him, abandoned him. He lost his wings. Those things actually happened to him. He experienced it, truth or not.”
Twilight shrugged off the feathery hug. “But when he sees the truth, he… He has wings, he can—”
“He doesn’t have wings, Twilight.”
Twilight’s eyes grew wide. “N-no! You didn’t! You—”
Luna held up a hoof. “Of course not, Twilight. I’m not a monster.”
“Unlike your sister.”
Luna stood tall and flared her wings, glaring down at Twilight. “How dare you? My sister is not perfect, but she loves you. Don’t—” Luna took a deep breath and tucked her wings back against her sides. “Twilight, you are still in shock. You’ve been all over the place emotionally. I understand that you’re angry, and you’re grieving, but… Just stop.”
Twilight looked at the floor. “I’m sorry. Spike has been getting on my case about that, too.” She cleared her throat. “So, uh, what did you mean about his wings?”
Luna sighed. “On our way back to Canterlot, I stopped on a cloud to rest. He fell right through the cloud, like an earth pony or a unicorn.”
“No, that… That’s not possible.”
“Twilight, have you heard of a phantom limb? An amputee still feels the limb, even though it’s gone? It’s something like that, but in reverse. His wings have been gone for so long, his magic can’t connect to them. He can see them, touch them, even move them, but they’re not real. Not to him.”
Twilight sat on the floor and held her wings out in front of her face, turning them over slowly and looking at the feathers, past them.
Luna sat down next to Twilight and wrapped a wing around her shoulders. “We don’t know if it’s permanent. Nopony has ever gotten back an amputated limb before. I’ve already sent off for the world’s top experts in automagical disorders. But I think this is just another symptom of his disconnect from reality. It’s easy to forget what’s real when everypony is telling him he has wings that he can’t feel or use.” Luna pulled on Twilight’s chin until they were eye to eye. “When he sees two Twilights, telling him different things.”
Twilight buried her face in Luna’s soft, fuzzy neck and sniffled. “And that’s why you can’t let me see him.”
“He needs to know what is real and what is not, and he is incapable of making the distinction when you’re around.”
“I never agreed to that,” Twilight whispered.
Luna rested her chin on Twilight’s indigo mane. “I know. I had to make a choice. I had to make a promise.”
“I hate it.”
“I know.”
Twilight leaned back and rubbed her nose with a fetlock. “So, what do I do now? I want to help him, but…”
“Give him space. Take care of yourself. You have friends and family who need you as much as you need them. Also” —Luna nodded down the hallway— “you have to deal with her.”
Twilight’s ears folded back as she caught the sound of gold-shod hooves making their way down the marble hall. “Horsefeathers.”
Celestia came to a stop in front of the pair and stood silently for a moment. She took a breath. “Twilight, I am not angry.”
“Hmmm.” Twilight bit her lip and glanced at Luna from the corner of her eye.
“I underestimated the seriousness of Flash’s condition. I underestimated your ability to manage state affairs. I made snap decisions based on emotions, and for that I apologize.”
“Hmmm.” Twilight tapped a hoof rapidly and looked at the ceiling.
“We need to have a debriefing on the summit, and we need to talk about what happened at the train station. I can see that you’re not in the mood for a chat right now, but there is a disciplinary issue in guardroom three that requires your attention.” Celestia smiled. It was a tentative, fragile thing. “It seems a pair of guards abandoned a very important post, and it was on your watch.”
Twilight let out a noisy breath and brushed past Celestia to gallop down the hall. Only a few steps away, she skidded to a stop and turned around. “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to placate me by giving me meaningless responsibility and authority. Well, it won’t work, because… Because I lied to the guards and told them you’d made other plans. So the responsibility was mine all along. It was never yours to give. Although, that means I can’t let you punish the guards for what I did. But I don’t think you would do that anyway. So, again, it doesn’t even matter, does it?”
Celestia sighed and rolled her eyes. “Twilight, don’t overthink it. I just want you to apologize to the guards who only realized they’d abandoned their posts when I flew in and asked where they went. They were terrified.”
“Oh.”
“Twilight, you need to understand how your actions affect others. It’s a lesson you can never stop learning, no matter how old you get.”
Twilight narrowed her eyes. “Clearly.” She turned around and proceeded down the hallway, ignoring the murmur of conversation dwindling behind her.
______________________________________________
Twilight took a deep breath and peeked into the guard room. She had been expecting something like a locker room full of bunk beds, but it looked more like the living room of a bachelor pad, with couches and card tables, and posters tacked up on the walls. A bachelor pad with racks of armor and spears. Half a dozen guard stallions were reading sports magazines or playing cards. Their chatter seemed like nothing more than background noise until Flash’s name caught her ears.
A chorus of “Your Highnesses” greeted her the instant she stepped into the room. Twilight sighed. “Can you all please stop doing that?”
“Yes, Your, uh, ma’am,” one of the guards said with a salute.
Twilight eyed the guards standing at attention in the cozy room. “Um, you can relax, or whatever the order is that lets you all do that. At ease? As you were?”
A pale blue unicorn tossed his mane back with a smile. “You could just say, ‘Take a chill pill.’”
“What?” Twilight said with a tilt of her head. “That sounds like something my mom would say.”
One of the stallions punched him in the shoulder with a laugh. “Oh, she burned you good, Sparks!”
Twilight held up a hoof. “Maybe that was the wrong order. I need to be serious for a minute.” She took a deep breath and pointed at two pegasus stallions who looked vaguely familiar. “Are you the guards I foalnapped on the train?”
They glanced at each other, then turned back to Twilight. One cleared his throat and said, “Yes, ma’am. I’m Staff Sergeant Dust Devil, and this is Corporal Longbow. We rode the train back with you after abandoning Princess Celestia and her chariot in San Franciscolt.”
Longbow nodded. “We abandoned our post and our principal. We are fully prepared to accept the consequences of our actions.”
“Ah, well, that’s the thing,” Twilight said, sharply aware of the contrast between the stoic posture of the two stallions and her own humble slouch. “The problem wasn’t your actions, it was mine. I… I lied to you. Celestia was planning to ride the train back with me, but I didn’t really feel like talking to her, so I told the conductor to go ahead and leave. Honestly, I’d kind of forgotten about you two until you were all like, ‘Oh no, we left her behind,’ and then I liked the idea of Celestia standing in the dark by herself so I lied and you stayed on the train and I guess she flew here and was all, ‘Why’d you leave me behind,’ and you were in trouble and it was all my fault.”
Twilight took another deep breath and let it all out with a puff. “So, I’m sorry. I was petty and childish, and that affected you.”
The room was silent for several seconds before Dust Devil spoke. “Huh. That… Thank you, Your Highness. That means a lot.”
Longbow shook his head with wide eyes. “I didn’t expect that. I really didn’t.”
One of the other guards murmured, “I’ve never heard Princess Celestia apologize to one of us.”
Twilight sucked in a breath as a dozen potential responses swirled around in her head. Her first reflex had been to defend Celestia, to point out that she’d probably never done anything that required an apology. Even before that thought had fully formed, her gut wrenched and recoiled at the memory of Flash’s torn and bleeding wings. But Celestia had apologized to her, several times. It hadn’t felt real. Wooden. Or did it? Did it matter? Apologies don’t negate the original offense, either. Then again, they do help heal the wound between two ponies. Not the scar that had been drawn between her and Flash.
By the time Twilight realized that she was standing with her mouth open, the room had erupted into a shouting match. She took a pensive step backward. This wasn’t her argument. She’d done what she came here to do. She could leave now, but that didn’t seem right. She could use a silencing spell; it’s difficult to continue an argument when nopony can hear you. Then again, frustrating everypony doesn’t tend to push any situation in a more peaceful direction.
A blanket chipmunk-voice spell could work. The idea of a room full of stallions shouting high-pitched squeaky insults at each other made Twilight giggle, but it didn’t seem like it would resolve anything.
She could simply shout louder than anypony in the room. She was quite capable of it. Simply being louder than everypony else was no legitimate basis for authority, though.
Authority. She had authority. All she had to do was… She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t even sure what authority actually was. Celestia had once told her that you can tell if you’re a leader by simply looking behind you; if ponies aren’t following you, you’re not a leader.
Twilight took a step forward and stood as tall as she could manage. She lifted her chin, spread her wings, and adopted a stern look of disapproval. Time to find out if anypony would follow her.
The first stallion to notice was in the rear of the room. His eyes went wide for a moment, then he snapped to attention and stood with his head bowed. Another guard noticed his response, and it became a cascade. Within five seconds, the entire room was silent.
Twilight took a deep breath as she made eye contact with each of the guards in turn. “I’m clearly not an expert, but I’m pretty sure guards aren’t supposed to act like that.”
None of the guards responded.
“And sometimes princesses don’t act…” She took another deep breath and folded her wings. “I heard bits and peices of your arguments. I want to set one thing straight. Celestia and I did not have a ‘battle.’ We had an argument, and after she left, I tore the room apart. Not very mature of me, but…” Twilight looked at the floor and shuffled her hooves. “I’m sure you’re aware of the situation.”
“Speaking of the situation, Your Highness,” the blue unicorn said with a hoof in the air, “Can you tell us anything about Flash Sentry? Is he doing better? Is he alive?”
Twilight looked at the guard and asked, “Are you one of his friends?”
“Has he said anything about Tee Square or Autumn Crush?” He waited for Twilight to shake her head again. “I can’t say I’m not hurt. We, the four of us, we hang out all the time. Or, we did. After what Flash did to Autumn, though…”
“Yes, I heard about that.”
“He’ll be fine, by the way, in a couple months when he gets the cervical collar off. Thanks for askin’.” Sparkle Brook gasped as his eyes grew wide, then he bowed low and stammered, “I-I’m sorry, Ya Highness! I didn’t mean to— I just lost two friends, and I know it wasn’t your fault. I haven’t had much sleep an—”
Twilight cut him off with a brief hug, then left a hoof on his shoulder. “Believe me, I know what it’s like to snap at ponies who don’t deserve it.”
He nodded. “Thanks, Princess.”
She nodded for a few moments, then smacked her lips. “Do I need to do any paperwork or something, so you two don’t get in trouble?”
Dust Devil saluted. “I’ll take care of the paperwork, Your Highness.”
“Thanks.” Twilight squinted and held up a hoof. “Are there some kind of rules about when you guys salute versus stand at attention or bow or whatever?”
Longbow chuckled.
“No, seriously. Is there a book somewhere that explains all this?”
“There is,” Longbow said with a smile, “but I think Princess Luna is the only one who knows or cares.”
A stallion’s voice crackled out of a metal box on the wall. “G-3, is Princess Twilight still there?”
Longbow reached up and pushed on the button with a hoof. “She is. Do you have a message for her?”
“Her mother is causing a scene at the infirmary.”
Twilight sighed and rested her forehead on a hoof. “Tell them I’ll be down in a sec.”
______________________________________________
The tension in the air was palpable, even before Twilight turned the corner to see her mother sitting in front of a pair of gold-armored guards with her forelegs crossed in front of her chest.
One of the guards spotted Twilight and his ears perked up instantly. “Oh, Your Highness! Thank goodness you’re here.”
Twilight Velvet turned around and waved one of her hooves behind her at the guards. “Yes, thank goodness. Now order these guards to let us through.”
Twilight shook her head as she sat in front of her mother. “I’m sorry, mom, but I can’t. They have pre-existing contradictory orders.”
“Ad infinitum,” said a guard, with one hoof in the air.
A grin tugged on the corner of Twilight’s mouth. “Exactly. I also wanted to apologize for the way I treated you two earlier.”
Both guards chuckled. “No apology is necessary, Your Highness.”
“No, I mean it. You two have the hardest job in the castle right now. Telling the Sparkle family ‘no.’”
Velvet put her hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “It’s true. She was a difficult child.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Thanks, mom. But the orders don’t matter any more. Because Princess Luna is right. I’ll explain later.”
“Twily, dear, you’re not nearly upset enough for that to be true.”
“I just… Everything that’s happened… I’ve been so scared and so angry and so worried for so long that I’m just sort of empty. I’m burned out.” Twilight shrugged and then scuffed at the floor with a hoof. “I’m sure I’ll be angry again later. And scared, and worried, and—”
The infirmary doors swung open with a clatter, and Princess Luna stepped through with Dream Pool at her side. She smiled and said, “Oh, Twilight. We were just on our way to find you.”
Twilight couldn’t help but peek down the hallway. A few chairs, a pristine gurney, and a bored-looking nurse pouring himself a cup of coffee were all that she could see on the clean tile floors.
“Twilight?” Luna leaned in front of the younger princess and waved a hoof in front of her face.
Twilight blinked. “Hmmm?”
“You can’t go in. We talked about this.”
“I know. I wasn’t going in. I just wanted a look.”
Luna closed the doors with her magic, then turned back to Twilight with a soft smile. “Of course. Did Secretary Dream Pool tell you about his idea?”
Twilight looked at the slender dragon and then back at Luna. “He did.”
“And what did you think of the idea?”
Twilight ignored a quizzical eyebrow from her mother. “I, uh, I hadn’t thought about it since I got off the train, but the way you asked the question makes it sound like you’ve already made up your mind.”
Luna nodded. “I have an opinion, yes, but it is your decision to make.”
Velvet took a step forward and frowned. “What idea? Flashy isn’t okay, is he? What happened?”
With a deep breath, Twilight leaned against her mother. “He doesn’t know what’s real, mom. I’m a hallucination to him, and he needs time away from me to sort things out.” She nodded to Dream Pool. “This is a dragon from the Yang Dynasty. He has a safe place for Flash to go, where he can be sure that the Twilight he sees isn’t me.”
Dream Pool gave Twilight Velvet a solemn smile. “It is a monsatery, a place of peace and meditation. He will be cared for by monks most skilled in the rejuvenation of the mind and spirit.” He turned to the younger mare and bowed slowly. “Is that your decision then, Twilight Sparkle?”
Twilight bit her lip. “If he stays anywhere in Equestria, I know I’ll eventually go see him. I was going to say ‘no,’ but now I don’t really see any other way.” She felt her ears droop as she glanced at her mother, then back to Dream Pool. “H-how long will he be gone?”
The tall dragon clasped his hands together and closed his eyes, lifting his chin in the air as he spoke. “It will take as long as it takes.”
“Yeah,” Twilight said, waving a hoof dismissively, “but what, like a month?”
A dry chuckle escaped Dream Pool’s lips. “It will take nearly a month just for the steam ship to reach our shores, and a two week trek up the mountains to reach the monastery. I will stay with him long enough to ensure he is settled in, but then I must be in attendance at the Emperor’s court. I will return to the monastery to visit Flash Sentry as often as I can.” He placed one claw on her shoulder. “Perhaps you should take this time as an opportunity to learn patience.”
Twilight gritted her teeth and pretended to smile. “That sounds like something Celestia would say.”
Dream Pool pinched his lips together in a half smile, then stepped around Twilight and waited for Luna to join him. “I will take that as a compliment. I would very much enjoy to stay and teach you meditation and patience, Twilight Sparkle, but Luna has authorized the use of your train to transport myself and Flash Sentry back to San Franciscolt, should you have agreed to my proposal. I have seen the degree of his damage, and the danger that you pose to his sanity. You understand, of course?”
She nodded silently as her mother nuzzled her cheek. Luna leaned over to nuzzle the other side of Twilight’s face as it pulled into a grimace and broke into silent sobs. Dream Pool placed a hand on each of the princesses and painted his face with sorrow, then bowed and turned away gracefully. Luna followed, leaving Twilight in her mother’s embrace.
______________________________________________
Steam from the train’s pistons clouded the platform and lingered around the lithe serpentine form standing in front of Flash. The stallion squinted and tilted his head, looking the beast up and down. “Spike?”
The dragon chuckled. “You flatter me. As I have said, I am Secretary Dream Pool, of the Yang. You—” He reached out a claw and pulled Flash’s chin back forward. “Do not listen to her. Look at me. She is not real. Did not Luna promise you that you would be free of her, as you have promised to free yourself of her?”
“I…” Flash glanced to his right, then looked back at the dragon. “Not real?”
“The train is ready. I will take you to a place of silence. A place of healing. She will not lie to you, not on the mountain.” Dream Pool stepped aside and ushered Flash onto the train before turning and raising his eyes to the distant castle with a smile.
