Thousands of years have passed since Starlight fought Queen Chrysalis, and Discord is old and tired. When his estranged family drops by for a holiday visit, he reminisces about the past and relives a painful memory.
Discord is near death and as curmudgeonly as ever. When his descendants are dropped off at his home to visit for Hearth's Warming Eve, he is more interested in distracting them so he can sleep. To keep them occupied, he shows them a strange crystal shard he's kept for many years, and is pulled into telling a story about his past that he had tried so hard to forget.
The evening was starry and mostly clear, but for blue and silver raindrops softly falling outside, looking like tiny gemstones. Discord was bundled up in his favorite chair, a large, overstuffed and very worn green and cream pinstripe monstrosity that had seen better days. He was, at last count, an estimated 10,000 years old, and as of the last fifty his age had been showing both inside and out. His mane was completely white and sparse now, his eyelids drooped, and every joint in his body nearly always ached.
He hadn't even known he could grow old. Could a god die? Could a god die of something as mundane as old age? Somehow it seemed to be happening, regardless of universal laws, and without even consulting him, the victim. But he wasn't frightened. He wasn't even confused.
But during days such as this one, slow and dull and entirely alone, Discord reminisced when he wasn't sleeping or attempting to cook something. If he hadn't just considered that pony a fling and had actually wanted to be a part of his daughter's life, he might have somepony around to help take care of him. He had nothing against having a daughter. In fact, she often amused him, or at least gave him somebeast to harass which usually made him feel better, but he saw her at most twice a year. And now she had two dracon-foals of her own; he hadn't really expected them to show up again.
Before they arrived at his door, he could smell them and hear them, and when he heard the kick to his door he opened it with his magic from the comfort of his chair. An off-white mare with lion's paws in front and crystal pony hind hooves pushed her way inside, followed by two young dracon-foals. The mare dropped her heavy saddle bags on the floor with a tired sigh and shook her mane and tail, both a rich red swirled with strands of chocolate brown. Narrowed red eyes met Discord's own and they stood glaring at each other until the young ones spoke.
“Grandfather!” the smallest one said, a dracon-filly by the horrendous name of Ijma, with all the look of a pony except for two small horns on top of her head and a red and white dragon tail.
“Mama says we can stay here for Hearth’s Warming Eve!” the filly's brother, Tassel Flare, said, leaping around in a circle. He was slightly bigger than his sister, with a short, stiff brown tail and two gray bat wings, but no horns on his head at all.
A strange jolt coursed through every limb. Hearth's Warming, is it? That time again already? Discord glanced at the mare who was still staring at him, stony-eyed.
“You said you'd be delighted to join us for Hearth’s Warming,” the dracon-mare managed through gritted teeth.
“Did I?” Discord looked at the ceiling. “I must have forgotten. I'm so busy these days.”
What was family, anyway? He hadn't had much of one and therefore was not sold to its positive aspects. His attempts at fatherhood, lackluster at best, proved to everyone except perhaps Discord himself that he was unfit for the role. He looked at his daughter, busily unpacking her saddlebags with items for her foals, and felt the same faint affection for her he'd always had. He didn't hate her. He didn't even dislike her. But he wasn't sure he really loved her, either.
It has been awhile, hasn't it? The thought wormed its way into his mind. His grand-filly, Ijma, stepping on his cloven hoof brought him from his reverie, and he glanced in horror between her and his daughter. “You're not making them stay, are you?”
She didn't look up from her bags. “We talked about this, Discord. Tomorrow's Hearth's Warming, and you said you'd come this year.”
“I made no such promise, Caramel... Glaze.”
"You remembered my name," Caramel smiled crookedly, looking up. “And you did promise.” They were at an impasse for a long moment before she huffed, “You do this every year-”
“Well, how can I help not feeling chipper every time the holiday rolls around? I'm so old, you know. I can barely walk downstairs to water my tarantulas.”
“We agreed, months ago, that you would spend Hearth’s Warming Eve with them. They never get to see you and I have things to do, Discord, especially if you're not coming to visit this year after all.”
Discord smirked. “How could you have honestly believed I would attend when I never have?”
“I just thought you might care one day,” Caramel snorted. “Especially since we both know it's going to be your last holiday."
Discord sniffed and turned away from her. “Well, that's uplifting if I've ever heard anything uplifting.”
"And you're my father," she said with great despondence. "Whether we like it or not."
Discord shrugged. "Hearth's Warming doesn't even exist here. Don't you think it's time to stop celebrating? Your mother's long gone," he added, keeping one eye on her and another on his grand-foals, who were already busy playing with strings coming off of the lobster-shaped rug that lay under his coffee table. The dracon-filly was tugging so hard on a frayed string to unravel from the rug her teeth lost their grip and she flew back into her mother's saddlebags, throwing envelopes and formerly-contained grapes all over the room. My own flesh and blood, he thought tragically.
Caramel was busily picking up the grapes and envelopes and didn't look up when she said, “Thank you for reminding me. If you're looking for something to entertain them with, why not show them that box thing you have hidden away somewhere?”
Discord's heart skipped a beat. “Box?” he asked, the face of innocence.
“You know,” Caramel said, grunting as she attempted to lift one of the table legs to reach an envelope that had mysteriously ended up beneath it, “that crystally thing I saw here years ago. You said it was enchanted, but I never saw it again. You never did explain it, and it's going to be mine when we have to clear this place out, so you might as well talk.”
Discord had stopped listening, his mind abruptly re-focused on the item Caramel was speaking of. “Didn't I? How strange.”
Caramel heaved and pulled the envelope from beneath the table leg, stuck it in a saddlebag, and paused to catch her breath and brush strands of her mane from of her eyes. “Don't show them then. Entertain them all on your own; it's the one thing you're good at. I’ll be back by in a few hours. Please don’t let them fall into another dimension again.”
“Ehh, oh, yes... yes, of course. Hours. A few hours, just fine.”
“You could try to sound like you cared,” she said as she walked past him and into the living room to retrieve a stray grape.
“I do care,” Discord said, pretending to have tears well in his eyes. He eyed the wriggling dracon-filly staring up at him with wide pink eyes and his reactive smile was more of a grimace. He still hadn't quite gotten over the fact his own grand-filly was named as something as repulsive as Ijma, even though it did mean something like “solar gaze” in some far-off language. He winced when she jumped onto his lap and sat down.
Caramel fastened the saddlebags closed and looked back up at Discord. “So you're really not coming tomorrow? Is that it?”
He snaked his neck around to look her in the eye. “You only invited me because you feel sorry for me."
“I invited you because you're my father,” the dracon-mare frowned. “I invite you every year; you just choose not to come.”
“Grandfather, look. I'm learning to fly,” Tassel squealed, leaping onto Discord's chair and flapping his tiny bat wings.
Sickened, Discord lifted him by his scruff and set him back on the floor. "Call me in fifty years, young fellow," he told the foal. Brushing his paw and claw on the sofa as if to clean them, he returned his attention to his daughter. "I'll call up the, er, 'box' for them."
"So it is here," Caramel smiled.
Discord lifted his chin and snapped his claws together. He had initially hidden away the box in a small sliver of time and space, opened and marveled at only when he was feeling particularly wistful. Lately, however, his magical abilities had grown weak and he hadn't the energy or memory to keep things tucked away as they once were. The object was now locked away in the basement, a place he rarely visited.
“Eh, oh, now, let me see,” Discord yawned. “Hmm. That's right, that's right; I used to live in another place, you know. It's so far away it's in another dimension.”
“I've told them enough,” his daughter said. “Mostly from what my mother told me when I was young.”
“Did you, now?” Discord asked, the smile on his face not reaching his eyes.
“Yes. Like it's where you met your estranged wife,” his daughter said through clenched teeth. Discord noted that her teeth usually were, and that she might need to seek professional help at some point.
“Now how can she be my estranged wife if we were never married?” Discord said, closing his eyes. “And we didn’t meet there at all.”
“It's called Equestria, remember, dears?” Caramel told her foals. “I've still never seen it.”
Tassel leaped into the air, attempting to take flight, but only hovered for a second. “I know, I know! You always tell us about it."
Ijma jumped from Discord’s lap back to the floor. “Like there's a friendship princess there, and then about that evil bug-hag.”
“And there was some sun queen... Seashell... what was it?” His daughter looked at him quizzically.
“Celestia's on her deathbed, last I heard,” Discord said tiredly, but with a small twinkle still in his eyes. “Her sister's been lonely in the dreamworld for far too long.”
“And Princess Twilight?” Ijma squeaked.
Discord felt another odd pang in his chest at the name. “That old biddy's going blind," he said, "but she won't admit it.”
“Aren't we ever gonna get to see her?” Ijma whined.
Discord feigned offense. “Why would you want to see her? She lives in another dimension. You wouldn't even believe it if I told you, but she is just a pony.”
“A pony?” Ijma asked, absently grabbing hold of Discord's hoof as if it were a life preserver.
“Mama's half a pony,” Tassel argued.
Discord waved at them with disdain. “Twilight had her years in the limelight, and they're long since gone. In another hundred years she'll be as dead as Celestia and Luna.”
“Discord,” his daughter hissed, “stop scaring them.”
“Even I'll be an ethereal sparkling form soon,” Discord said dramatically. “Ugh. I suppose I should send her a letter.”
“Oh, please, put us in it,” Ijma said.
Discord shrugged weakly, the corners of his lips turned up. “Ponyville's a terrible place these days. Er, so I've read.” He glanced surreptitiously at his daughter, who was still frowning at him.
“None of us would know, since we've never been there,” Caramel said.
“Blame your mother. Anyway, there's nothing much left. And my magic is so feeble now, I couldn't possibly take you with me.”
A small glassy cube had arrived in the living room and now hovered in the middle of it, so shiny it reflected everything in the room. It was sharp-cornered and about the size of Discord's paw, and its mirror-like appearance faded the closer one got to it, revealing a strange moving glow behind white-frosted glass.
"Wow," Tassel said, unable to keep his eyes from it.
Ijma relaxed her hold on Discord's hoof. “Who gave it to you?”
“No one gave it to me; I made it. I’ll show them, but not until you’ve left," Discord added, nodding at his daughter.
Caramel rose onto her hind legs, put her paws on her hips. “What's so wonderful that you can tell my progeny and not me?”
“It's a matter of magic,” Discord scoffed. “You always were too narrow-minded, just like your mother.”
Caramel took hold of Ijma's shoulder and nodded at Tassel. “Come along, darlings.”
Discord rolled onto his side, his back to them. “All right. All right.”
“Do you even remember her name?”
“'Carbine Claws', wasn't it?”
“'Candy Claret',” his daughter scowled. “Would it kill you to remember her for once in your life?”
“Oh, I remember now,” Discord said, pretending to look guilty. “How could I forget her? It was a glorious three-day weekend, truly."
“You may have hated my mother," Caramel said, "but you aren't getting away with treating me the way you treated her. Eighty-eight years, and you still try to shut the door in my face.”
“Let's not confuse hatred with indifference. Besides, you've never let me do that,” Discord admitted, though he looked dejected. “And just look at you, with your lion paws and your glittery pony hooves, and that crooked horn on your head. Adorable.”
Caramel shook her head. “I need to get going. Are you going to write to that princess? Any messages for what's left of your friends? Wait, did you ever have any? Never mind. I can relay them for you, 'tis the season and all. And I remind you that if you turn your grand-kin into any sort of produce this time, it won't just be me you'll have to deal with.”
Discord smiled at her. “Of course not, no, no, how could I forget your darling husband, Hammer Head?”
She let out a strange noise which Discord could only describe as “frustrated”. "Your letter? Are you writing one or not?"
Discord closed his eyes. He would have stayed thus, pretending to be asleep, had Caramel not said, “Come on. There’s got to be some unfinished business out there somewhere. Knowing you.”
Discord let out a very long sigh, which made his grand-foals giggle. “That’s right. I can at least write an emotional good-bye to, er, Twinkle Sparks? Was that it?”
“Twilight Sparkle!” Ijma and Tassel said in unison.
“Ah, yes,” he mumbled, but gathered a quill and parchment. After thinking for a brief moment he wrote:
Dear Twi,
Long time, no see. Hold on; that's a bit cruel. Long time, no 'write'. Better?
I heard a rumor you were still alive, so if you are, good for you. I'm still kicking, too.
If you get this letter, I suppose Equestria hasn't crumbled to dust. Keep up the good work.
Discord
He used his magic to fold the letter into the shape of an alicorn and fit it into an envelope shaped accordingly. In sparkling gold ink he wrote on the envelope, Princess Twilight Sparkle, Ponyville, Equestria.
“There. Happy?” he asked his daughter.
“So very,” she replied, and took the letter in her mouth and nodded one last good-bye to her foals. “I'll let you know as soon as there's a reply.”
“There won't be,” Discord yawned.
“For your sake, I hope there is. I'll see you all in a bit.” She nearly slammed the front door shut.
Discord rather hoped when he turned around again his house would be empty, as he liked it, but when he faced his grand-foals his face bore a horrible grimace. “You're still here?” The dracon-foals were still seated on the floor before him, eyes bright with anticipation, and he moaned, turning on his side away from them again. “Why don't you two just run around outside and let an old beast like me get my beauty sleep?”
“Mama said not to let you kick us out,” Ijma piped, and with great effort jumped onto Discord's sofa and stamped her hooves into the cushion. “Like last time.”
“We wanna see the glass thing,” Tassel whined, stretching his pale brown neck out to settle his chin on Discord's claw.
Discord jerked away from him and sat up. “It's not a 'glass thing', it's a... well. Let's just see, shall we?” Rubbing his neck, he pulled his blanket from them and nodded toward the object which was still hovering in mid-air. “What do you think it is now?”
Tassel shook his short brown tail. “A glass thing!”
“A rain-globe box,” Ijma said, her own scaled tail swishing with excitement.
“Yeah!” Tassel jumped onto the nearest chair, nearly sinking into oblivion in its deep cushion.
Discord brought the object toward the dracon-foals. “It's not a rain-globe,” he said, using his magic to enhance the clarity of the glass.
“It's not?” Ijma asked, pressing her face against its smooth surface.
“Look closely.”
The dracon-ponies strained to see inside, Tassel teetering precariously off the edge of the chair. Ijma thought she saw something moving, but Tassel pushed her aside. “You did not!”
“I did so!”
Discord raised the shard to his eye level and stared into it as well. “There is something in there. What do you suppose it is?”
“A pony,” Ijma cried.
“A bugbear!” Tassel jumped up and down.
Discord rolled his eyes. “Maybe you're not old enough to see it. I used to spend some time in Equestria,” he said, stifling another yawn. “A land where all sorts of creatures lived, but ponies ran the lot of things. They had castles and royals and festivals, just like we do.”
“Hearth's Warming? Mama says you don’t like Hearth’s Warming, but I do,” Tassel said.
“No. It’s a sentimental, saccharine holiday, but I suppose the ponies enjoyed it." Discord rubbed his forehead, trying to remember. "Lots of snow. We traded presents and had feasts.”
"What's snow?" Ijma asked.
“I wanna go,” Tassel said. “Why didn't you go back? Mama said you haven't been there in ages and ages.”
“It's not really my vibe,” Discord said, but scents and scenes of Equestria passed through his mind; a table with a farm-baked feast; colorful wrapped presents with ribbons and bows nestled beneath pointed green trees; spiced-apple cider by a fireplace, and a quiet laugh.
And hadn't there been a song? Something they always sang...
“But why?”
Discord stretched his neck. “I'm old. And it's been very dull for a very long time.” He frowned, trying to remember details of that long-forgotten land.
“Really?” Ijma asked, looking sad.
“Yes. Now, are you going to be quiet and listen?” They nodded, and Discord nodded once in satisfaction. “I used to rule Equestria. Your mother doesn't know that. I did some unkind things and was banished for many years. It was cruel and ruthless and I was very bitter, but one day I was freed. And then what do you think happened?”
They asked him if it was their grand-mare, Candy Claret, but Discord shook his head, for it had been nearly a hundred years since he'd run into the young mare, a whirlwind weekend in a dimension he liked to describe as “kitty-corner” to Equestria, but not nearly as riveting. Candy had been familiar with Equestria, for she was a crystal pony herself, but she had never been there and he had never invited her to go.
Who his parents were, Discord didn't know. In fact, his earliest memory was from a time when he was at least ten years old, and the memories of that era and place had always been obscure. Perhaps he had no parents. His powers of dimensional-hopping had jettisoned him into Equestria and, as a young land and being a young draconequus, it was an easy world for him to torment and eventually take over.
Then there had been that problem with two young princesses, Celestia and Luna. He preferred not to remember that event, or the thousand years that followed. He had long ago attempted to rein in his magic, often with disastrous results, but then again it was his natural calling. There had been times when he considered the weight of his actions, but no one ever stopped him, or if they tried to they weren’t able to. But it had been fun. He remembered much of those years with nostalgia, but there had been sad times, too. Bitter, lonely times. And one time so buried and forgotten and painful that in the last thousand years he had scarcely thought of it at all.
There was one other he remembered. Her name was Chrysalis, queen of the changelings. Fairly often a thorn in Discord’s side, but never a true threat, the changeling queen haunted Equestria now and again, always trying to overthrow the ponies but never succeeding. Even that time, she didn’t succeed.
Discord broke into a sweat, suddenly nauseated. Pain wrapped his body, sharp and binding. His arthritic joints always bothered him now, but this feeling was different. Different and from long ago, like a cold spectre watching him from the shadows.
There were eight, no, nine ponies at that time. Twilight Sparkle, who had recently become a princess, and her closest friends. She’d had a student, too, and the student had her own circle of friends. Something about them reminded him of magic. And the changeling, Chrysalis, was-
No. Focus on the ponies. What were their names again? One of them had something to do with an apple.
He'd gotten to know quite a few of them, but his very first friend was Fluttershy. Pale yellow, with a rosy pink mane and tail. And her eyes… what color were her eyes?
He shook his head as if clearing her from his mind. The fast one was Rainbow Dash, and the bizarre one Pinkie Pie. Pinkie had a lot of sisters, if he recalled correctly. And Rarity, the designer, and Applejack. That was it! She lived and worked on a farm, had a granny.
But what was it? What was the connection between them and Chrysalis? Something about being far away or disappearing. Something to do with being lost.
A memory flashed in his mind's eye, a dark and quiet night. He'd been knitting something, and then he’d gone on that ridiculous escapade to save Fluttershy and, he supposed, to help the other deadbeats out in the process. Who was he with? Some candy-striped-mane pony and her blue-haired friend. Starlight Glimmer and… he couldn’t remember the other one.
The first emotion he had felt was fury. Fury at Fluttershy being taken away, and even more so at how he had not even noticed. What kind of friend was he supposed to be? He even felt a little guilty not caring as much that ponies like Twilight and Celestia had also been taken, but for the moment he had to push that guilt aside.
If he hadn’t made such a joke out of the whole ordeal, lamenting Fluttershy’s loss as if it were some theatrical performance where he would play hero instead of a potential matter of life or death, he might have done something to help. For once, he could have at least tried to help. These days he was just so used to Twilight Sparkle saving the day, or somepony besides himself anyway, that it never really occurred to him they might fail.
They had made their way deep inside the hive when it happened: Discord was caught in a trap, and had even known it was a trap, but Fluttershy had been crying. Since he’d made her cry with that whole Tirek business, which he had tried every day since to forget, he promised himself he would never allow it to happen again.
Discord's legs and wings felt tied, though he could move his right arm without much difficulty. He was trapped upside-down in a strange organic cage, like a semi-transparent plant pod with a dull green luster. He'd come-to a moment ago, his head pounding, not even sure where he was. And Fluttershy was...
Discord rubbed his eyes and then held his head in his hands, thinking. But anything would be better than remembering that. Think about the good times, he thought. I had some back then, didn’t I?
And like leaves in the wind, old memories drifted to him. Parties, weekly teas, grand adventures. The ponies had put so much trust in him, even when he never believed he deserved it. They had chipped away at him, steady and careful, and he was able to learn what true happiness could feel like.
His favorite moments were those spent with Fluttershy, his best friend. Or at least it had started out that way. Come to remember, he’d always had a soft spot for her, ever since he first escaped his stone prison. She hadn’t been like the others. Her naiveté and gentle nature rarely left her frustrated or angry, aspects of her personality that had ultimately worn him down. He hadn’t tried to be a better draconequus only for the sake of being better, but because she had wanted him to be. And, eventually, he wanted to be for her, too.
It hadn’t just been that she had stuck her hoof out to be nice to him, and it wasn’t enough that he had softened with her touch; it was far more than that. Their bond had become immeasurable, their joy in each other always apparent, and he had become indebted to her by her kindness that had saved him so many times.
He would do anything for her. He felt it when he saw her or thought about her. The idea that something truly terrible may happen to her never entered his mind. His reliance on her strength and familiarity had made him weak after all, for the one time she really needed him he was as useless as he had been when he had been imprisoned by Celestia and her sister. Chrysalis certainly thought so.
Fluttershy was gone. She and Twilight and the rest of their group had been ponynapped, along with Celestia and Luna and just about every other formidable pony in Equestria. Discord tried to move to relieve the knot in his back, but couldn't rearrange himself in the confines of the cocoon. He tested his magic again and again, to no avail. The one time Fluttershy’s life was truly in danger, he was rendered useless. Isn’t that a perfect reflection of who you are?
Changelings patrolled the prison cocoons, their black skin giving them the appearance of shadows. From what he could see, Twilight, Rarity, Celestia, and Shining Armor were nearly unconscious in their own respective pods. If he could work his way out of his bind, bit by bit, he might stand a chance. Where were Thorax and Starlight and Trixie? At least one of them had to be able to do something. Starlight had something of a head on her shoulders, after all. If only they could distract the changelings.
Discord blinked and jerked when he saw Chrysalis’s large green eyes staring at him. She had flown up to look him in the eye, but instead of looking angry she was smiling. “Discord, isn’t it? How long has it been?” She laughed, a loud sound that shook the chamber around them, and tapped her horn onto his cocoon, splitting it evenly from top to bottom. With one violent jerk Discord fell to the ground, his body too disoriented for him to move much. It was only by some miracle he hadn’t landed on his head, and he swiveled it up to see if he could find Fluttershy in one of the cocoons on the ceiling.
Chrysalis flew down to stand before him as he struggled to stand and dry his wings. He coughed, bringing up liquid from his lungs, and gasped when oxygen filled them again. “I’m here for one pony. She isn't here, so where is she?”
Chrysalis leaned down so her face could reach his. “One, you say? I wonder who it could be.” She straightened, looking thoughtful, then stamped her hoof into the ground. “That’s right. The little quiet one. My changelings told me about your caterwauling over her.”
Discord struggled to stand, reaching blindly for a wall he couldn’t touch. “Where is she?”
“I can’t say,” Chrysalis said. Her amiable voice was a harsh disconnect from her glare. “You outdid yourself. I never thought I could say that to you.”
Discord stretched to his full height, steadying at last. “She’s my friend.”
“All of this for a pony? Honestly? What about the rest of them?” She nodded to the ceiling where Twilight and her companions were held.
Chrysalis bowed to Discord and stepped out of his way. “Then by all means.”
As if on cue, in that moment of silence a blood-curdling scream rose from the distance. Discord, who had just considered creeping away from the queen, froze. As another cry crescendoed beyond the walls, he looked at Chrysalis in horror.
Chrysalis laughed. “Keep looking, Discord! She's waiting for you.”
“What are you doing?” Discord lunged toward her without thinking and was immediately blocked by changelings, one of which snared his right arm between its teeth.
Chrysalis nodded at the changelings. “Maybe you’d do anything for your beloved pony, but just remember I am their queen, and they will do anything for me.”
As yet another cry rose up, Discord wrenched his arm from the changeling, not noticing his skin tear. “What are you doing to her?”
“I’m right here,” Chrysalis said.
“Give her back!”
“I didn't take her,” Chrysalis smiled. “Tell me where Starlight is and my changelings might take pity on you.”
“Fluttershy would never hurt- she's innocent,” Discord begged, his anger dissipating and turning into exhaustion. “Please, just tell me she's safe.”
Chrysalis shook her mane and began walking in a circle around him. “She doesn't sound as if she's safe, does she? What has she done to you? I've never seen you soft.”
“She's nothing compared to Celestia or Luna or Twilight.” Discord kept his eyes level, fighting a strange urge to cry. “They can hurt you; Fluttershy can't.”
Chrysalis lunged at him. “How dare you threaten me so? In my home, you are nothing! Your friends, nothing! Wander around in here on your own for all I care! You're a bug, a cockroach under my hooves!”
“I'm not leaving without her,” Discord said.
“You're never getting out of here. Changelings!”
A wall of changelings appeared as if from nowhere, trying to form a wall between Discord and the queen, and his anger resurged. Why wasn’t somepony doing anything? Where was-
“Chrysalis!”
The voice was new and loud, and both Discord and Chrysalis turned to see Starlight Glimmer standing before them. Her anger seemingly matched Discord’s. “Let my friends go. Let all of them go.”
The queen’s smug face didn’t falter. “There you are.” With her last word she reared up and every changeling in the cavern flew to Starlight, and in that moment Discord ran to the nearest aperture he could find and slipped out of sight. He ran with every ounce of strength he had, not daring to look back, and found himself speeding through a myriad caverns and pathways appearing and disappearing without reason.
A maze, is it? It wasn’t so long ago I put Fluttershy and her friends in one. It didn’t do much good where Fluttershy was concerned. He slowed down, remembering his great plan, how he’d made them all despair and give up. Almost all of them.
Somehow he found the chamber without much difficulty, as if something had wanted to lead him there. Outside of it were claw marks in the stone. It looked as if something terrible had tried to get out but was overpowered and pushed back inside. As he reached for it, a swarm of changelings emerged on full attack. The handful of Chrysalis’ minions still chasing him also caught up, and he skidded to a halt.
He tried protecting himself by crouching on the ground, and just as he felt the changelings’ teeth sink into his flesh a burst of wild magic threw the changelings off of him. He stood again and worked his own magic on them, slicing heads and limbs from bodies in one clean blow. If he had been paying attention, he might have considered the generosity of his actions by not allowing any of them suffer before their deaths, but he was too consumed by terror to notice them at all.
Nearly tripping over himself, he entered the chamber and stopped short when he noticed the sulfuric, metallic smell that permeated it. Its strength was overwhelming and he had to close his eyes to keep them from watering. When he could see again he found a dark pool, and within it a small form, but he could not identify what it was. It seemed to him that he stood there for a long time before he realized it was a pony, but yet somehow he’d already known. A small pony, pale and female. She was lying on her side, her face turned away. But, no, it wasn't Fluttershy. It couldn't be.
He made across the room to reach her, then froze. He fought his inactivity, pushing himself to reach out to her, but his body would not obey. Then, slowly, as if wading through honey, he made his way to her and let out a long shuddering breath. He touched her mane, pulling back when he felt moisture and staring at his paw in bafflement.
Dark black-red glistened on each pale claw. He wasn't sure what it was, even though he felt he should know, somehow. But it and Fluttershy didn’t go together. How could they?
Her wings were bent at impossible angles, every bone in them broken. Most of her feathers had been pulled out, the skin along with them, revealing slender bones ending in twisted points. Many of them looked as if they had been twisted over and over again like spirals before they had shattered. Most of her tail had also been cut off and ripped out, the sign of the weapon used apparent in a long open gash down her hind leg. Her forelegs, obviously fractured, had been tied together and her right hoof partially hacked off. Her ribcage sat at an odd angle, with two ribs looking as if they were about to break through the red and black bruises that covered her torso.
His control crumbled and he gathered Fluttershy in his arms. She was light, broken, her body moving as if in pieces loosely put together with string. He brushed rosy strands of hair from her face, revealing blood-streaked cheeks. One of her eyes was blackened and shut tightly, but the other was partly open.
“Fluttershy,” he said, his voice barely audible. His entire body shook and he was absently aware it was completely out of the realm of his control. He jerked when she gasped, blood sputtering from her mouth. She winced, then opened her good eye wide and looked toward the wall.
Tears threatened to spill from Discord's eyes for one terrible moment as he held her closer, but he couldn't close them. “Fluttershy, don't….” His voice caught and he lay his head over hers. “I love you.”
Fluttershy did not seem aware of Discord at all, but stared at the scratched wall with alarming intensity, and with one final quiver the life left her face and she was gone.
***
How Starlight stopped Chrysalis, how Twilight and the other princesses and their friends escaped, Discord didn't know. Events went by in an endless blur, the voices a cacophony from a nightmare. A night passed, then another; Twilight must have been expecting him, but how could he face her? How could he face any of them? His insides twisted when he thought of her parents, her brother. What would he say to them?
Why would they want to hear from you? he thought angrily. She didn't love you. They're not expecting anything from you. They don’t even know who you are.
He wished he could to go to them. He wanted to sit with them and cry, “I know! I know what you’re feeling because I loved her, too! We can take comfort in each other’s sorrow. I will do what I can to help you, and maybe you can help me, too.” But he didn’t dare.
He couldn’t get her image out of his head, but it was not the pleasant, sweet visage of a young and gentle pony, but that of a mutilated corpse. How much must she have hurt? Had she called out for him? He could not imagine it, but echoes of her screaming flooded his mind anyway, and the harder he fought them off the stronger they became.
He crumpled to the ground of the Everfree Forest where he’d stayed in the shadows and lay his head on the cool earth as if listening for its heartbeat. He couldn’t think of anything, couldn’t make himself stand or sleep or run or eat. If only he could get her to stop screaming.
He had been too afraid, too guilt-ridden to consider returning to his own dimension. It felt too much like running away, though it was all he wanted to do. He felt he owed his friends an apology or some explanation at least that might help them understand what had happened, and his role in it. But he couldn’t say it. He hadn’t uttered a word in days, and then found he could not speak even when he tried to.
They were hardly avoidable, however, in the confines of Equestria. Besides, he had remained in Ponyville and he couldn’t escape anyone there. His body felt like ice as he arrived in Twilight’s castle courtyard after receiving a timid summons from the princess, delivered by a nameless pony in a dark mourning shroud.
Twilight and her friends were in the yard, the four that were left, each of them looking more miserable than the last. Twilight was watching him carefully.
Applejack and Pinkie Pie were also quiet, and Rarity had draped a square of black lace over head which covered her face. She was lying on the grass, her head on her forelegs and her face turned away from everyone, silently sobbing. Spike was sitting near her, almost touching, watching her with watery eyes. Rainbow Dash, however, had no qualms about speaking her mind. “You got her killed,” she spat. “It was you. Chrysalis wouldn't have ever singled her out if it weren't for you!”
“Chrysalis is just too cruel,” Pinkie said, her eyes welling with tears.
Applejack frowned. “Y'all need to hang on a minute-”
“Just say something, will you?” Rainbow Dash glared at Discord. “If you liked her so much, say something!”
Discord mustered every ounce of strength he had to look at them all, then hung his head. He wanted to speak, wanted to sink to the ground and tear off his own scales, apologize and beg for forgiveness from everypony. But his body was numb and would not allow it.
“Leave him be, Rainbow Dash,” Twilight said. “I didn’t ask him to come here so you could yell at him.”
“He shouldn’t be here at all! We wouldn’t be burying our friend- our sister- if he’d stayed in that stone prison like he was supposed to!”
“Rainbow, stop it.”
Discord disappeared. Weeks went by, which he spent in silence. Celestia and Luna held a long and somber ceremony to honor Fluttershy. It seemed every pony in Equestria had come, though it rained hard that day and for the next week and the train was stalled. Rainbow Dash hadn’t seemed interested in maintaining Ponyville’s sunny skies since the battle.
There was an equally melancholy ceremony to congratulate Starlight Glimmer, Trixie, Thorax, and Discord himself for saving Equestria, but Discord was too sad and too tired to care very much. He hovered in the garden of the castle that day, trying to find solace in the quiet greenery, but it never came.
It was decided they would bury her on the edge of the Everfree Forest, just behind her cottage. They moved her belongings out of her home to Canterlot and dismantled the walls to help build a low enclosure around the grave. Then there was great pomp when Twilight and her friends planted a small sapling for Fluttershy on top of her grave. It was a slender young ash, barely higher than the Cutie Mark Crusaders' knees, but again Discord maintained his distance.
Fluttershy's family and her woodland friends were in attendance at the funeral, comforting one another as best they could. Harry was draped over the wall, hiding his face, and Constance and her fellow birds were dotted around the base of the ash, silent and still. Angel was inconsolable, lying on his belly, his muddied white fur hiding the trunk of the sapling as he sobbed. He wouldn't let anyone near him.
In a gilded plaque along the wall was engraved:
Fluttershy of Cloudsdale and Ponyville
Caretaker of all Beasts, Lover of Kindness,
and Friend Forever
He wanted to die, too. He wished it and at times even begged for it. He would have gladly taken Fluttershy’s place in an instant.
How could this world be so unfair? Why would he have softened his heart for others if he knew how painful losing them would be? How could all the other creatures in Equestria stand it? Wouldn’t it be better to live alone forever? Life might be lonely, but it would spare this.
It was unbearable. He’d felt his love for her for such a long time that having her ripped from his protection created a pain so unreal he couldn’t really understand it. What would Fluttershy want him to do?
She’s dead; she doesn’t want you to do anything. She can’t see or hear you. She doesn’t know you.
But if death was not his answer, then what was? Where must he go and who must he find to fill this emptiness? It had to be somewhere far, in another dimension and another world with other beings where he could turn all of his memories to dust.
Discord slowly found his voice again, though his words were not ones he wished to share with anyone else. But still he had to eat. He had to awaken each morning and go to bed every night. To him it was like living in a cruel circus show; a grotesque parody of reality that he could never escape.
For a short time he returned to his own realm, but found no solace there. His guilt kept him from forgetting Equestria and everyone in it, but he wasn't sure which place was worse. Being home made him lonely, and being lonely made him think of her, while being in Equestria only made him want to hide and tormented him with flashbacks of their time together.
Fluttershy's friends kept to themselves, barely looking up when they walked around Ponyville to attend to their errands. Twilight and Celestia, at any rate, seemed worried about him, and Twilight finally summoned him to her castle one brisk autumn morning and this time she and Discord were alone.
“Thank you for coming to see me,” Twilight said. Her voice, much like Discord’s, was quiet and hoarse. Still, she had been more or less unscathed by the events of the last month, a thought which infuriated Discord even though a small part of him pressed that it wasn’t Twilight’s fault. Not exactly. But any weak spark of blame he had felt toward the princess had been quickly pushed aside when the guilt of his own actions continued to pelt him. And the worst of it was, everyone else thought he was guilty, too.
Twilight had waited for him to speak, but offered him a chair when he remained silent. “I’m sorry to bother you… that is, sorry to call on you when you might be busy. Or prefer to be alone. But we’re worried about you.”
“What for, Twilight?”
She looked up at him in surprise. “Because of what happened. Because Fluttershy was important to you. At least as important as she was to us.”
There’s still an ‘us’, he thought darkly. But why not? You were never one of them. Only Fluttershy made you feel worth something. He winced and squeezed his head between his paw and talon. What would it take to get her out of his head? “Yes,” he finally said. “And now she’s dead.”
Twilight bowed her head so low it was almost touching the polished floor; Discord absently noted that it cast almost a perfect reflection of her. “Yes,” she said, and her own pained face made her look more confused than upset. “I’m afraid there’s no magic that can bring her back. But, Discord, she’s not suffering anymore. She’s hap-”
“The changelings, they tore her apart!” Discord roared, upending Twilight’s throne.
Twilight jumped from the noise and went still, bracing herself in case anything else went flying. “I mean, she isn’t in pain anymore. Nothing can hurt her ever again.”
“How can you say she’s happy?” Discord’s anguished cry filled the cavernous room. He pulled at his mane, ripping strands of it from his head. “She isn’t here!”
“I know you're angry,” she said, her voice struggling not to break. “I am, too. Discord, you're not the only one who lost her. We're all hurting.”
“Are we.” Discord was staring at the upturned throne; he couldn't bear to turn aside and look at the other ones around the table.
Twilight stepped toward him. “I don't know how to help you; I can't even help myself. But pushing everyone away won't make you feel better.”
Discord dug one of his claws into the center table, carving a deep line down the length of it. “And is that your expert opinion?” he asked, his voice a dangerous growl.
“Yes,” Twilight whispered.
“You're just a filly compared to me,” he snarled. “Princess or not, you'll never be as old as I am right now. How can you know what's best for me?”
“I don't-”
“It wasn't you who tried to rescue someone and failed! You never fail at anything. It wasn't you who ran his mouth off and made her a target.”
“Her association with me automatically made her a target,” Twilight protested, but there wasn't much energy behind her words.
“She was with you. How could you let them take her away?” Even as he spoke the words, he knew he did not desire the answer. “Why didn’t you stop them?” He turned his back to her, afraid of some other emotion he had been fending off since Fluttershy had died in his arms. With some horror he wondered if it was an urge to cry.
Twilight rubbed her tired eyes. “Discord, I've never been through this, either. But I have to believe sticking together, all of us, will be best for us even if we don't see it now.”
Discord shook his head. “I don’t believe it. I might have, but I know what I’ve done to her, and the rest of you know it, too.”
“Discord, please,” Twilight said, and he thought she really did look troubled. “Chrysalis and her changelings are the enemies. You’ve always been on our side-”
“Have I?”
“When it counted,” Twilight admitted.
“That’s it, then,” Discord said, and Twilight was the silent one. She knows it as well as I do. No use arguing semantics. Whether I intended to harm Fluttershy or not, here we are.
Twilight had seen something in his expression that made her even more worried, but he didn’t want any part of her pity. He made to leave, tensing at her hesitant voice; no doubt she was planning to continue micromanaging everything else he was supposed to do, and indeed she began babbling something about "resting first" and "not running off blindly into the night". But he hadn’t the will to argue with her anymore and begrudgingly agreed to her suggestions.
Starlight was huddled close to Trixie under a small awning outside Twilight’s castle, just out of the rain. Starlight looked up, her eyes sad, when she noticed Discord and made to stand up, but Discord shook his head. “Twilight would have me say goodbye to you both,” he said. “She says it's the polite, responsible thing to do.”
Starlight propped herself onto her forelegs, quivering slightly with cold or shock, Discord wasn't sure. “Discord, I... I'm sorry. I tried-”
“Yes,” Discord said, and it was enough to silence them both. He bowed his head to her and Trixie, who had only blinked at him, and continued on his way.
He didn't want to see the others, but he had to for his own well-being (or so Twilight had insisted). Pinkie Pie was his first visit. She had returned home to her family's rock farm and was therefore the farthest to reach. Her somber self, so often hidden from view, had broken past her usual guileless façade and she could not smile when Discord came to call.
“I wanted to apologize to you personally, Pinkie Pie,” he told her, hardly able to look at her blank eyes and straight, unkempt hair. “I'm so sorry. I would never intentionally hurt you or any of our friends.”
Pinkie hesitated, then wiped a tear from her eye. “I know.”
“I hope you'll be all right. You're my friend, and I want you to be happy again.”
Pinkie nodded, sniffling, and something- a smile, maybe- tugged at one corner of her mouth. “I know.” There was nothing more either seemed able to say.
Rarity was in her boarded-up boutiqueand silently opened the door for him. She offered him tea, already steeped and cold, but neither wanted any. Discord found her remarkably composed and quiet, and he had to speak first. “Rarity,” he said quietly, “I am sorry. For everything. For what I've done, and now... please believe me when I say I wanted to help all of you.”
Rarity shook her head, her drooping curls bouncing slightly. “Never mind apologizing, darling. At these times, there's nothing really to say.”
Applejack and Rainbow Dash were next, though he wasn't sure which to seek out first. Applejack wouldn’t be able to hide her disappointment, and Rainbow would surely berate him again. He felt he deserved both.
Applejack was out among the apple trees on her farm, jaw clenched and grim-faced as she went about her chores. Her narrowed eyes relaxed somewhat when she saw him, but she said nothing.
“I'm so sorry, Applejack, for hurting you and....” He still couldn't say her name.
Applejack tipped her hat forward, covering her eyes. “Shucks, Discord. No hard feelin's.”
“Good luck with your farm. Give my regards to your family.”
She nodded and turned away, returning to her work, and Discord disappeared.
Rainbow Dash had been most difficult to find, for she wasn't in Ponyville and she wasn't in Cloudsdale or anywhere else, it seemed. Not that he had any intention of going to Cloudsdale; Fluttershy's parents were there and if he could not bring himself to visit Fluttershy, there was no way he had the strength of character to visit them. But at last he found Rainbow tucked away among the clouds near Canterlot, only darting down to the city when needed.
Discord appeared on a cloud next hers and braced himself. “Rainbow Dash, I'm sorry,” he whispered.
Rainbow perked her ears and looked up at him; she'd been dozing, or trying to, and looked more annoyed that her slumber had been interrupted rather than by the intruder being Discord. She waited for him to continue.
Discord cleared his throat. “I apologize. My friendship with... our friend was most important to me. I would never do anything to hurt her. I know I can't be forgiven, but please let me just say how sorry I am.”
Rainbow was leaning back from him as if trying to dodge his presence. She eyed him for a long while, her brow deeply furrowed, but at last sighed. “Don't apologize to me. I know you can't help what you are.”
Discord felt another pang, a deep-rooted pain in his middle that emanated to each claw and hoof. Rainbow lay back down and turned her back to him, and when she spoke her voice was muffled. “It can't be changed. And I know you're sorry; I don't need to hear it.”
He felt a childlike sense of relief that she hadn't yelled at him, but somehow her despondence made him feel far worse than yelling ever could have.
Slinking back to Ponyville, Discord knew he had to see Twilight once more, to make up for the way he’d acted during their last visit. Or it could have been just that he felt Twilight, as the Princess of Friendship, deserved a formal farewell. She had done her best to keep her friends' spirits up, encouraged them to continue their usual routines, but even she couldn't carry the weight of the loss of their friend. After a month she had holed herself up inside her castle, only helping with what she deemed were true emergencies and delegating much of her work to Celestia and Luna.
He eyed Twilight's Castle, a looming shadow in the rain of the past weeks, but he could not quite bring himself to go there. Not yet. The thought tugged at him. There's somewhere else I have to go first.
He wasn't entirely sure how he'd gotten there, but Fluttershy's sapling was drooping to the west in the strong wind which had just picked up. Most of its leaves were torn off, but a few struggled to remain, fighting the current of air. The enclosure was empty and silent, devoid of all creatures, and he closed his eyes as if seeing his destination would keep him safely from it. But suddenly then he was there, opening his eyes and noting the freshly-polished plaque. He stopped just outside the enclosure and stared at nothing after that. He wanted to go in, needed to be by her and talk to her... apologize to her.
What was the last thing he'd said to her? For days he wracked his brain trying to recall it. He hoped it wasn't something snide or inconsequential. Somehow he remembered saying something along the lines of, “how many teacups does it take to reach Angel’s disdain for me?” in some weak attempt at humor. Why hadn't he said something clever? Or something kind or endearing or which could have expressed his affection for her? He always had to be the prankster, cracking jokes and tormenting others for a laugh, but she hadn't really minded. She had always been kind and gentle to him, feelings he had never really known nor cared about before.
Why did she have to be so nice to me? What did she see in me that made her want to be my friend? I can't do it. I can't go in there… can't tell her.
He had to go away for at least a little while to clear his head and detach himself from her memory, but he promised himself he would be back to see her soon. He didn't know where to go, and had no plan or map or friends in other dimensions to assist him. He would have to forge a new life, if even for a little while. It was his only chance to let her go.
He sought out Twilight Sparkle the next day and wound his way around her castle where he found her in a small windowless room in the tower, red-eyed and mane wild, poring over one of her spell-books. Spike was fast asleep beside her.
“Discord?” Twilight blinked at him, looking dazed.
“I'm sorry, Twilight. I thought I could help.”
Twilight closed her book. “We were all in trouble. It's not your fault.”
Discord nodded slowly, his mind elsewhere.
Twilight rubbed her right leg with a hoof. “Look, the girls will come around. We're just not sure what to do right now. Things are strange.”
“But why?” Twilight tilted her head to one side. “Where are you going?”
“You're a good pony, Twilight.”
“Wait, please. We don’t want you to go.”
“You're making an excellent princess.” He gave her a deep bow and disappeared.
He was so close to leaving, so close to getting out of there forever, but one more pony tugged his conscience. He had one more apology, the one he had avoided so far not because he was afraid she would be angry with him, but because he knew that she would be the kind. She would probably want him to stay and remind him his family was in Equestria now, through the good and the bad. But how could she understand what was inside him?
Celestia granted him an audience immediately, looking just as worn as Twilight had, though her eyes were considerably clear and well-rested. “Twilight tells me you're leaving Equestria.” She gave a small smile when she saw the surprise on his face. “Word travels quickly between us.”
Discord nodded.
“Try not to take it so badly,” Celestia said. “They're her family and they're only-”
“I know,” Discord said, his voice quiet. “It doesn't matter.”
Celestia’s smile faded. “I want you to know they won't stop being your friends. It's a difficult time; we've all suffered.”
“How can we be friends? I can't bear to look at them. They feel the same way when they look at me.”
“Discord, Fluttershy-”
“She's gone. She's always been.” And she had been, somehow. She's always been apart from me… a dream I could never reach.
Celestia looked down, giving the draconequus a moment of privacy. “She was a pony with a lot of love for everyone.”
Discord’s head was still bowed, but he then straightened his shoulders and glanced behind him to the open sky. “Take care, Celestia. Thank you for looking out for me.”
“You will always be looked out for, and you will always find a friend here. Don’t forget that.” She paused. “Where will you go?”
“Somewhere I can rest.” He bowed to her once more and was gone.
Time passed, and if Discord had bothered to keep track of it he would have seen years, decades, centuries go by. During this time he traveled to other dimensions and worlds, no reason to the directions he chose, as long as it was far from Equestria. He'd gone to worlds of shadow and light, places with no time or color or sensation, glassy planes with spectacular starfalls where winged creatures lived.
His heart ached and his eyes hurt; he wanted to shutter himself away in his room for the rest of his long life. But he’d fought to be strong, too, never allowing himself to shed a tear for her. It was not that he had not wanted to, but he wasn’t sure it was the appropriate thing for him to do yet. Over time it became a sort of game for him, an emotion he would skirt as it crept near. If he had been an innocent bystander, if he had not known her well, he might have cried briefly for Twilight or Celestia’s sake. But somehow the thought of doing it for Fluttershy frightened him.
As time passed, he missed Equestria and then he didn't and, slowly, it faded from his mind. He'd eked out something of a new, unstable life, and every now and then he listened for any news from Equestria that might be passing through. Hearing some news, he was glad to be an outsider. A thousand years before, the Crystal Empire had been entirely destroyed and turned into a frozen wasteland that not even Celestia or Twilight could save, and both Cadance and Shining Armor had been killed. Flurry Heart lived for only a few hundred years more, before succumbing to some other terror, or so he had read.
In time and with distance he began to speak to others again. His months as a morose transient hadn't really required him to say much of anything and he took comfort in that, but eventually had to speak again to find his way. He’d done so well, he thought, for a little while at least. Back when things were happy and fun and new. Back when he had Fluttershy. But afterward, no matter how far or how long he traveled, he could not seem to get that feeling back. He never opened up, never let himself get too close to anyone else in the worlds he reached. It seemed too much trouble and never promised him relief.
He met other ponies from time to time. He'd even had a flings with some of them, but he couldn't shake the connection; ponies made him think of Cadance and Shining Armor, and therefore made him think of Twilight, and therefore Twilight's friends. Somehow it seemed almost everything reminded him of Fluttershy, as if she were the zero point, the origin of all of his feelings and thoughts.
Candy Claret had been a showpony, singing and dancing in a bar on a far-away moon. At first he hardly noticed her, for it had been many thousands of years since he’d seen a full-blooded pony, but she was pretty and seemed interested in him. He'd found other females of various species attractive over the years, and he appreciated Candy's dark red and white hair and crystalline white body, but it had been her cutie mark which had caught him off-guard: three small candies like peppermint swirls in white, red, and green. They reminded him of somepony he had known a long time ago, a pony who loved sweets.
At the time he hadn't really thought of it, but the memory harassed him until he decided to satiate the connection by inviting her to dinner. She had agreed and together they plied themselves with alcohol and one thing led to another. She surprised him further by proving to be good company, and for the first time in a long time he smiled and laughed and they enjoyed themselves and each other.
They had spent the last three days and nights in a hotel bed together, until the evening of the fourth night the memory clicked and he knew the pony he'd been trying to remember had been called Pinkie Pie. Remembering Pinkie reminded him of Fluttershy, and his old bitterness returned.
Candy let her head loll to the side on the pillow as she lit a cigarette. “What’s an old fellow like you doing way out here, anyway? Isn’t there a lady waiting for you somewhere?” The smoke began to mingle with the smells of cheap perfume and sex, creating a stagnant haze in the small room.
Discord gave her strange look. “Do I look the type?”
A smile tugged at her lips. “I don’t know. You look lonely.”
“That bad?” he said, raising his eyebrows.
Candy laughed. “Almost.”
Discord's smile faded and Candy's followed. “What's the matter?”
He wouldn't look at her. “You reminded me of someone.”
“I know. You talked about her in your sleep.”
He hunched his shoulders. “You should have woken me up.”
“Nah,” she said, and touched his shoulder. “You sleep so little as it is.”
He shrugged his shoulder to displace her hoof. “It doesn’t matter. You have no business listening to a guy’s dreams.”
“You didn’t say her name.” Candy took another drag. “My bad, then. Want another round?”
Discord sat up and stuck his legs off the edge of the bed. “I need to be getting on my way.”
“Gee, honey, I’m not trying to trick you into anything,” Candy said, propping herself up on her pillow. “I get it. I mean, you’re not interested, no coat off my back, but at least wait until morning.”
He hesitated. “I really can’t stay.”
“Neither of us can,” she laughed again. “Do you know how much a night in this decrepit old place costs? But here we are.”
Discord gave a sort of coughing laugh. “I never imagined we would.”
Candy rolled onto her side so she could look at him properly. “That’s life, I guess. So who’s the girl?”
“Girl?”
“The one we just brought up.”
“... It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter.”
She set her cigarette between her teeth. “I see. Just how long are we talking?”
“Longer than you can imagine,” he frowned.
She raised her eyebrow. “All right.”
“No. Really.”
Candy's eyebrow was still raised, and Discord’s frown deepened. What did she expect of him? Hadn’t she just said she wasn’t trying to trick him into anything? She certainly seemed to expect an answer.
“I’m not asking anything of you,” Candy explained, seeing his expression, “honest.”
“I know, because if you were I never would have come here with you.”
Candy rolled her eyes and sat up, stubbing out her cigarette. “Look, I don't know a thing about you except you're good in the sack and that you saw something in me I thought you sort of liked, but you don't have to be an asshole. I'm just trying to be friendly. I thought we were getting on okay.”
“You're right; you don't know me. You're just a two-bit showpony from nowhere.”
Candy struggled to keep her temper. “Don’t think so highly of yourself, either. I’m not asking you to marry me. You don’t have to be rude or run away; I don’t bite.”
Discord stood up. “I’m leaving.”
“Discord, what’s gotten into you?”
He ignored her and looked around the darkness to find his belongings.
“Is it the girl? What, I’m not her, so you’re just dumping me like trash?”
“Be quiet. Stop talking about her.”
She sat up. “Oh, brother. You missed your chance, do you get that? You’re never going to get another one.”
“What chance?” Discord bit back. “I’m here, aren’t I? We screwed twenty times, didn’t we?” He had managed the argument so far, but then Candy said something he found unforgivable.
“I’m not talking about me! You’re hung-up over that girl, aren't you,” she had cried. Her distress didn’t stem from any sort of jealousy, but from impatience. “Look, I don't know what happened to her, but I’m not her. You chose to leave wherever you came from. Let her go.”
“Let her go? Go? Go where? What are you talking about?”
Candy stared at him. “ ...You don’t mean she’s still alive, do you? I figured, if it had been so long, she was long gone.”
He wanted to hurt her then. Hit her, kick her, throw her out the damn window of their room. Who did this harlot think she was, telling him about his life? She should have been the one to have her limbs snapped apart, not his Fluttershy. She should be the bones in that grave, not his best friend.
His wild rage scared him. He wasn’t even sure how he made it out of their room without inflicting injury on Candy Claret. It was a miracle maybe, or something left over from the days when he had friends; when he actually cared for others besides himself, and they cared for him in return.
Candy might have cared about him, but he didn’t want her to. And he knew she was right when she told him to let Fluttershy go. How many years had it been now? Decades, centuries… millennia? He all but forgot her sometimes. Sometimes he did forget her, and those times were respites for him. When he did remember, the pain was a dull, familiar ache that was often bearable. But he didn’t want to think about it, even now. And he’d never, ever heard anyone else talk about it. That he could not allow.
And even if Candy wanted him around, she wasn’t the first. Like the others, her pretty face had lured him for a brief moment in time, but she was nothing compared to Fluttershy. No one ever was.
He knew it wasn’t fair to her, to anyone else, to compare his lost love with them, for Fluttershy had been young and they had almost always been apart, and so she was perfect. No one could ever compare to a memory. If they had actually been together and years had gone by, surely they would have found faults in each other. They would have argued and gotten angry and been sad together. He could imagine Fluttershy storming out of their house, could see himself tire of her weakness. But they would have loved each other.
A revelation hit him then, in the room with Candy. His temper must have been a coping mechanism. It kept others away from him, safe. He felt safe alone, too. Fluttershy was his excuse for his own perceived inadequacies, and he had fed them ever since she’d died. Perhaps he didn't even know who or what he was anymore. All of his traits had been stripped away, leaving only a rough and poisonous exterior. He left the hotel without so much as a goodbye, never wanting or expecting to hear from Candy Claret ever again.
When at great length she showed up on his doorstep with a chip on her shoulder and a fussy foal hybrid strapped to her back, Discord was displeased to say the least, but he fought the urge to shut the door in her face.
“Do you know how long it took me to find this place?” Candy said, catching her breath, her body weighed down with her foal and her bags. Her eyes searched for a place to drop everything.
Discord turned to go back inside and held the door open for her. “I can guess.” He hadn't thought it was possible for anyone or anything to find him in an alternate dimension, but Candy Claret was obviously more skilled than he had given her credit for, and far more persistent.
The foal strapped to her was not recently born, but still too young to walk. She looked at Discord with sleepy but interested red eyes. Something welled in him as he looked at her, a raw feeling of some new, unnatural emotion. “Who is that?” he asked.
“You know who it is,” Candy said, irritated. “Who else would it be?”
“Why are you here?”
“I thought you might want to know you had a child, Discord.”
“I came here to be left alone.”
Candy groaned. “Look, we’re never going to get along. That’s fine. But you don’t have to stay a shut-in for the rest of your life. Look at her. She doesn’t care who are. Yet.”
Discord felt the same cathartic sensation he'd just felt as he looked back at his daughter. It terrified him somehow, but he found it comforting nonetheless. He rubbed his face as he walked toward the kitchen to make a pot of tea. “She doesn’t look anything like me.” She doesn’t, he thought to himself as if to reinforce the idea. She’s just another life to screw up.
“Just hold her,” Candy said from the living room. “You know, carrying her was no picnic. I’ve never felt so uncomfortable in my life. I don’t think my belly will ever forgive me.”
“I saw her,” Discord said, returning from the kitchen. “I see her. Yes. Baby. Wow.”
“Not just ‘baby’,” Candy frowned. “Your baby. You know, like ‘mother’ and ‘father’?”
“I don’t care.”
“Discord, she has your eyes. And paws, just like-“
“I’m not interested,” he said, and this time he looked right at Candy’s eyes. “Do you understand?” He kicked aside the small old chest he had unlocked the previous morning after nearly a hundred years, a rare action when he was feeling particularly sentimental. He had arranged a few of the items on his window sill, eyeing them every now and then, trying to decide if he wanted to leave them out or not.
“I know what your problem is,” Candy smirked. “I know why you hate me so much; I’ve been thinking about it ever since you left. You only have two emotions in you, and only one of them works at a time. Selfishness and anger, right? I think the truth is you don't love anyone because you can't.”
“I didn’t invite you here to insult me.”
“You didn’t invite me here! Okay, don’t care about me. I don’t care about you, either. But your child, Discord… how can you just throw her away?”
Discord opened his front door. “Go on, please. Just go home.”
She was still, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You’re still hung up on that girl?” she finally gasped. “Throwing your life away for… ? I don’t understand it.”
Discord was tired. “No.”
“So, that’s it. You really don’t care about your daughter.”
“My answer hasn’t changed.”
“Then help me to understand,” she pleaded. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Is she some sacred princess, the one you’re hung up on? The mother of some other kid you have?”
Discord’s eyes, which had been mostly just tired and uncaring since Candy arrived, narrowed. “I told you not to bring her up. I’m not going to repeat myself again.”
“You’re… you’re being an idiot,” Candy cried. “A selfish, angry old fool!”
“The only idiot I see here is you,” he said, scowling. “Following me all this way... didn’t I leave you on a moon?”
“I’m trying to help you. I don’t know what’s so terrifying about that.”
“You’re a pony I fucked,” Discord scathed. “And as far as I know that thing on your back could be any old bastard’s.”
Candy didn’t hesitate to fire back. “Everything has to be on your terms! Your actions affect others, you know. You think it’s romantic, what you’re doing? You need serious help. I’m saying this to you as a fr-”
“We’re not friends. We’re not lovers, and that brat can go right back where she came from.”
Candy was livid. With one sweep of her foreleg she flung all of Discord’s trinkets from the window sill onto the floor, and there was a loud cracking when a crystal figurine broke apart. She was flushed, but managed to look somewhat stunned at what she had done. Mustering her courage, she stuck out her chin and said, “You want angry, then? Shall I continue? You can feel free to stop taking all your problems out on me, any time!”
Discord was still for a moment, then fixed his stare on Candy. “Get out.” His voice was low and ominous, and she saw the violence in him.
“I will,” she said, backing against a wall. “I’m out. And you are, too, you hear me? You’ll never see-”
“Get out!”
Candy jumped, nearly tripping over the open chest, and fled, leaving Discord breathless with rage, his eyes fixed on the broken crystal strewn across the floor.
***
Discord had fought Fluttershy’s memory for so long, as if it were on a rolling wave; it would come and go again and again, and every so often it ran ashore and he remembered his time with her. There were quiet conversations, the gentle touch of her hoof on his arm, her shy laughter when he’d said something funny. There were long hugs and all-night conversations. He had stroked her mane once, and she had kissed his cheek.
Finally, after two thousand years, he had succeeded in all but forgetting her and was able to find a little peace. And as much as he worked at fending those memories off, he worked even harder to keep Candy Claret away, even at the expense of his own daughter. He’d known it was wrong and felt the guilt weigh him down, for he felt guilt for nearly everything he’d ever done, but by then he was used to brushing it aside and kept running.
His daughter, Caramel Glaze, was more appreciative of his declined mental state than her mother had been, and she was considerably more forgiving. Her desire to have him be a part of her life was mostly stemmed from duty, but she was a bit angry, too. She didn’t want him to run away anymore, not because she loved him but because he was her father and she knew one day he would be too old to run anymore. She felt sorry for him.
She’d mostly stayed away from him because he preferred it that way, but she never stopped trying to bring him into the life a family could offer. Perhaps her tenacity had worn him down, but he didn’t mind her so much now, and saw her as more of a recurring illness than something he had to lock entirely out of his life. Another problem was that this family wasn’t the family he had dreamed of. Back then, if he’d had the chance… he supposed he had just assumed they would get to be together, and when it hadn’t happened he had become lost.
If only I’d told her…
Would they have married? Had foals? Grand-foals? Would they celebrate their own special Hearth’s Warming, creating new traditions to pass on? Would they wake up beside each other each morning, her smile lighting the room? More than once he’d dreamed of their life together, and those mornings when he awoke from the dream he had felt such torture. It was as if Fluttershy’s blue-green eyes were watching him, always disappointed, always blaming.
His inability to cry for her left him feeling guilty, too. He had felt for all of this time that Fluttershy forgiving him would put his own torment to rest, but there was no way that was possible. And even if she were able speak to him again somehow, how would he ever believe her forgiveness if he had not yet learned to forgive himself?
He could have tried to stay with Candy Claret or the various other ponies and creatures he’d met in the cosmos, but always he felt rushed, as if he were late for some important venture he would never have the chance to experience again. These days the mere mention of the word “family” irked him. He had brushed aside the potential for such things after Fluttershy died, and everything had passed him by.
***
Ijma had laid down on the floor as Discord finished his story, her face tucked between her small hooves. “That is so sad.”
Discord shrugged one shoulder, looking at the glass box. “Once a selfish beast, always a selfish beast,” he said savagely.
Tassel was eyeing Discord, his yellow-flecked eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Is it real? I mean, did that really happen?”
“Of course it really happened,” Discord said, a slight edge in his voice. “Do you think I would go to all this trouble if it hadn't?” He indicated the box.
“But what is it?”
Discord sat up straight and summoned the box to him. Using his magic, he cleared a spot on the frosted surface and pointed at it. Tassel and Ijma dutifully peered through the haze to see a tiny land, kept safe and undefiled from the outside world. Lush and green, small rivers, lakes, and mountains spread across the horizon, and if one looked closely enough, just as carefully as they could, they could perhaps see small ponies and animals frolicking and enjoying the sun that almost always shined for them.
“You wanted to see Equestria; here it is,” Discord murmured.
"Wow!" The foals cried.
“It's just a window,” Discord said. “It comes and goes; my magic isn't strong enough to control it anymore. There's something else in there, though.”
Tassel practically pressed his eyeball to the glass. “What is it? I don't see anything.”
Discord glanced at him and snapped his claws. The image of ponies vanished and in its place was a clear crystal key. "Your grandmother always wanted to visit Equestria. Well, here's how you can get there."
"Oh, a key. Where's the door? Is it just a normal door?" Ijma asked.
"I locked the key in there," Discord told her. "I never intended to use it. But someday, when you're a little older, the two of you can probably figure how to get it out. When you have it, use it on my front door here. Make sure you don't lose it; you may never get back. Your mother would be sad."
Ijma was mesmerized by the key and couldn’t take her eyes from it when she said, “Why did she have to die?”
“I don’t know.”
“It was mean. Mean to her and to you."
Discord was lost in thought. “Do you think so?”
“Yes. Was she going to be your wife?”
Discord gently tugged his beard, but Tassel had grown impatient with the conversation. “How did you lock a key in that?” he asked, touching the glass with his hoof. "There's no latch or anything."
Discord let go of his beard and rubbed his forehead as if his head hurt. “I am the god of chaos. And If I could get it in there, I'm sure someday it can be taken out.”
“Can’t we go see it together?” Tassel asked, but Discord shook his head. “Why not?”
“We can’t."
"But why-"
"We can't go," Discord said, and his voice was final.
“How did you make it?” Ijma asked.
“You’d be amazed at what you can find out by reading books. I think I read one by an old wizard pony... I'm afraid I don't recall the name. And I had a little ornament that I-” He stopped short, the memory flooding his veins with adrenaline, and he pushed himself up off the sofa. “Watch this for me,” he told the young ones, indicating the box. “Be careful with it.”
He crept down to the basement again and paused. No, not the basement. He turned in a slow circle, trying to remember. An upper bedroom, hidden from the hallway in a sliver of space and time. That was it. He shut and locked the door behind him, lest his grand-kin come in and touch anything. And there it was, rusted and hidden under a thick layer of dust, boxed up beneath an old child’s pegasus bed frame he was pretty sure he had won in some sort of duel long ago.
Kneeling, he slid the box out and lifted a cold red chest from it. The key had long since been lost, but he hadn't really needed it to begin with, and with one snap of his claws the lock broke apart and clattered onto the floorboards. He took a deep breath and opened the chest, its rough hinges sticking, forcing him to pull it apart with all of his strength.
Some of the objects inside had worn away. A pale yellow velvet cloth covered everything and he gingerly lifted it, edge by edge, until it lay open like a blossom. Inside was a small paper book, the ink faded so much the title was indecipherable. Underneath the remnants of an old dried flower that was hardly more than a pile of black dust were several faded and discolored photographs depicting himself in his relative youth alongside Fluttershy. In each picture both were smiling, even the one where Discord had held up his talons to give Fluttershy rabbit ears and she had turned around to look up at him, her movement blurring the picture. At the very bottom of the chest was a pink heart medal, untarnished.
Tucked into the side next to the medal was what he'd remembered: a badly chipped crystal rabbit figurine which fit perfectly in his paw. Candy Claret had all but shattered it the day she came to call with their daughter, but most of the body was still in one recognizable piece. He had tried to mend it, but his attempts were never perfect enough to satisfy him; it always looked sad and misplaced somehow. The broken pieces he had turned into a key that would allow him to return to Equestria without any magic at all, as his powers weakened. He had made it to see her. But as soon as he'd made it he locked it away, too.
It had been so many, many years since he had been there and he could not see himself returning. Ever since her death, he'd kept the idea in the back of his mind, but each time the tangible decision looked him in the face, he was too afraid to make it.
Before the key, before Candy, he had boxed the rabbit up and forced himself to all but forget about it. And after, too, he tucked it away and locked it in the chest along with other dreams and memories that had died.
So why must I remember it now?
_______________________________
The tree was decorated with colorful baubles and glowing with candlelight and it filled the cottage with its sweet pine scent, the mulled apple cider adding a comforting spice. It was Discord’s very first Hearth’s Warming and Fluttershy leaned against him, watching the fire crackling in the hearth. When she glanced up at him her long lashes made her look coquettish. “I have a present for you,” she said, her voice soft and sweet. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw her blushing.
“And I you,” he said with a smile.
They were curled up on a knotted rug on the cottage floor, their backs against the sofa and covered with heavy wool blankets. Fluttershy reached behind her. “Here,” she said, and gave him a small package wrapped in white paper.
Discord smiled at her again, and she matched it before settling her chin on his lion arm to watch him open her gift. He gently tore the paper and pushed it aside. A crystal rabbit figurine lay in his paw, highly detailed in a close likeness of Fluttershy's own pet, Angel Bunny.
Fluttershy drew back, blushing for certain this time. “I know it's not much, but I wasn't sure what you might like. I’m afraid Angel had a say in it.”
Discord leaned down to hold her in a tight hug. “It's perfect.”
_______________________________
The memory vanished and Discord was back on the floor of the bedroom, holding the chipped rabbit. What had he given her, he wondered? He had no memory of it.
He sat there, lost in his reverie for a long time until he heard a gentle knock on the door. He quickly wiped the tears from his eyes and tucked the cloth in the chest again before locking it and hiding it underneath the bed frame.
A soft voice called from the hallway, “Discord, a letter's come. I think.”
With a tired sigh he unlocked the door and stepped out from the room to find Caramel Glaze standing before him. In her paw was a small white envelope shaped like a star and sealed with purple wax. He stared at it momentarily, then felt a strange twist in his stomach before taking it. On the back, written over in purple ink, was merely the name Discord.
“How convenient.” He shook his head. “Dimensional time. Thank you. I'd like to read it alone.”
“I wouldn't dream of imposing, you know.” His daughter smiled crookedly and stifled a yawn. “We need to get our rest, anyway. Don't stay up all night with that candlelight or you'll be as blind as Twilight is. Come on, darlings,” she crooned to her foals as she went down the stairs.
“That was just a rumor,” Discord said. “I’m sure she has the vision of eagles.” He made his way to his chambers, a place where not even he ventured much anymore, for the stairs hurt his knees and he was often too feeble to use his magic. Closing the door, he set the envelope on his pillow. He stared at it again, frozen, as if it might attack him, but at last he settled onto his bed, took a long drink of water, and opened it.
Dear Discord,
I had long since thought you were gone from all of our universes, or at least stuck somewhere permanently. You can only imagine my surprise when I received your letter. I sent this with your courier, without any address, so if something goes wrong with this getting to you, you can blame it on him. (Is that something the Princess of Friendship should say?)
Equestria hasn't really changed so much. I have many students now, but I am mostly taking care of Celestia. I told her about you, but I'm afraid she doesn't remember (she's been somewhat senile).
It's funny how some things can remind you of a life you once lived. I'm afraid I must admit I spent much of the night, after receiving your letter, lost in thought and with many tears. You weren't even a memory to me anymore, not really, but a ghost from a dream I had as a filly, perhaps. But remembering you reminded me of all our friends. As princesses, they did stick it out with me for quite a while.
Our Applejack left us first. A few years later, Rainbow Dash was also gone. Only eighty years ago we lost Pinkie Pie and Rarity within days of each other. Their castles are maintained and hardly empty, but I don't get to see them much anymore.
I try to visit Fluttershy’s grave every week. I leave a flower for her, or sometimes a note or photograph. The tree the girls and I planted there is big and old now; you'd never think to associate it with anything tragic. It has been much lived-in with birds and squirrels and is well taken-care of. I've always believed she's happy with it.
My eyesight isn't strong, so I've had to dictate this letter to one of my students. Her name is Fireling and I think you'd get a kick out of her. She's still young and unruly, but reminds me a little of myself.
Celestia's apprentice is doing well; she's strong and patient and loves Celestia very much. I know she will take good care of Equestria. Our new Princess of the Moon has been improving over the years; for a while our nights were very short because she had terrible nightmares and was rarely awake when we needed her to be, but Celestia was always supportive.
If you so desire, please return to us once more. I would be honored to meet with you again, and I am so truly happy you're still with us.
With love and affection,
Twilight Sparkle
Discord held the letter, shaking, then crumpled it in his paw and let it drop to the floor. His emotions were a coil of barbed wire, twisting and cutting and confining him all at once. He hadn't really believed Twilight was still alive, let alone she would remember him or write a letter to him. He hadn't really wanted a reply.
But surely there couldn't be much pain left in thinking about Equestria after all. He still loved Futtershy. But time had passed and done what it did well: make beasts, or in Discord's case, mercifully allow beasts to forget the past.
Home, Discord thought, still nervous but no longer shaking. It certainly never was this place.And the tree? I should like to see it. Maybe she's been unhappy I've been gone for so long. She doesn't think I've forgotten about her, does she?
You have forgotten her.
No. Not quite. Never quite.
The next morning found Discord packing a small rucksack just before dawn. He hadn't slept for long, what with his old bones creaking and his memories haunting and his heart aching. The Hearth’s Warming song from the previous night was still pulling him every-which way. If only he could remember the tune, the words!
Maybe there was still time. He could see Fluttershy’s tree, although it might be winter there, and cold and bare. But perhaps he could stay there a while and wait for spring, if he felt up to it. She had loved spring so, with all the new animals and insects and warm, breezy days.
Not for the damned tree, he thought, and it took all of his will to make himself believe it. For her.
His heart gave another weak flutter. He thought traveling might not be so very bad. He could manage one long trip, he was almost certain, and there was a little time left. There had to be. He would take his few possessions and settle in Equestria as he had always wanted to. Even if he couldn’t have a life with Fluttershy, he could have a chance at finding his peace before he left the cosmos forever.He could try to find it, at least; it was about the only thing he hadn’t tried yet. He could be civil, too, and spend a bit of the holiday with his daughter and her family before leaving.
Caramel and his grand-kin arrived to him locking all of his windows when they returned early the same morning. They had brought a multitude of festive things, and Caramel had pushed through his door without knocking, saying, “I figured we’d come early because the thought of you spending one more holiday alone… what are you doing?” she asked, dropping the pile of wrapped gifts she’d been holding.
“Nothing too complex,” Discord grumbled, not looking up and stuffing a scarf into the top of his rucksack.
“It's here, it's here!” the foals cried, bounding to the glass box which Discord had left out overnight. “Look, mama, look! There are ponies in there! And a key and-”
“Ponies? Haven't seen that in a while,” Caramel said, her gaze moving to the box. “So you told them?”
Discord was silent, looking at the crystal thoughtfully. He shook his head and then patted the heads of his grand-kin. “You two should have this. Take good care of it, now.”
“Really?” Tassel jumped into the air.
Ijma grabbed Discord’s lizard leg in a wild hug. “Oh, thank you!”
“Yes, really. But you must take good care of it; it can't protect itself, so it's up to you to do it.”
“What do we do?” Tassel asked, his eyes glued to the crystal.
Discord bent down and kissed Ijma and Tassel on their heads. “Keep it hidden; don't show it off. Watch them and make sure they stay happy and safe, no matter what.”
“What if they don't?” Ijma asked, her neck craning to see through the glass again.
“Then you must help them.” He winked at her. "You know how to get there." When my time comes, and my magic ceases, he thought. He rolled his stiff shoulders and felt his neck pop. Massaging it, he saw that Caramel was watching him carefully. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Caramel Glaze,” he told her.
She smiled at him, pitying.
Discord tried to smile, too. “I do love you. I want you to know that.”
Caramel’s smile didn’t change. “I think you want to love me.”
Discord looked sharply at her, then enveloped her in a quick hug. “Those little monsters will keep you busy for a while yet.” He tilted his head toward her offspring. “And… sorry. It doesn’t really mean anything to you, does it? Rather late for it.”
Caramel pursed her lips, then said, “Listen, you don’t have to come with us. See, I brought some gifts for you so you wouldn’t have to leave home.”
Home, Discord thought again, then made a face and looked out the window. “Well. In a dramatic turn of events, I was actually considering it. For real this time. I’m not sure your clan would approve.”
“Mother had a temper, too,” Caramel said diplomatically. “Anyway, she’s gone. Not too many awkward conversations.” She stopped unpacking the gifts she’d brought, uncertain whether or not to continue until she knew Discord’s decision.
His eyes were fixed on the window, but he shouldered his pack. “True.” The song was still tugging at his memory. What were the words? Something sad, something foreign.
... Auld lang…
No, that wasn't it.
Caramel picked up a fallen box with her teeth and noticed a large suitcase sitting by the front door. “What's this? Why did you pack so much?”
Our paths will cross again one day
In time to reunite...
“I’m going out after the holiday,” Discord said with nonchalance. “I won’t have time to come back.”
Caramel hoisted her gift-laden saddle bag over her back. “What do you mean? Going out? Going where?” She held the door open for him as he stepped out into the void.
Discord squeezed the crystal rabbit in his paw. “To see an old friend.”