> Chains Of Gold
>  by Dawn Leaper
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> A Cursed Blessing
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


And will not, then, the immortal armies scorn, 
The world's poor, routed leavings? or will they, 
Who fail'd under the heat of this life's day,
Support the fervour of the Heavenly morn?






It was raining the day Rainbow Dash had died.

Heavy, thunderous and relentless, it had been a torrential downpour, as if the Heavens themselves were lamenting at the loss of one of Equestria's Greats. 

A tall, purple alicorn stood outside the Canterlot City Square Hospital, intimidating in stature and regal in nature, shoulders drooped as if carrying an unbearable load. Her long, glimmering navy mane, that usually danced, buoyant and floating on some ethereal breeze, was flat, and limp, and drenched in the rain.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped through the revolving doors. The bustling and beeping of the medical environment was a soft replacement for the clattering roar of rain outside. 

"Excuse me," she stopped a passing nurse, who looked shocked that a mare of such prestige would seek her guidance, "do you know where the Skies' room is?" 

The nurse's face fell slightly. "Yes, of course," she murmured sympathetically. "First floor, second door to your right, the Lady Bliss ward... I..." 

The nurse hesitated as if she was going to say something else. 

The alicorn lifted her gaze, eyes glimmering with liquid. "Yes?" 

The nurse shook her head quickly as she trotted off. "Uh, nevermind." 

Whispers and hushed exclamations followed the mare through the hospital, and the alicorn was vaguely aware of a couple of her private guards trailing astutely behind. 

Princess Twilight Sparkle halted outside the Lady Bliss ward. The sign, once bronze and lustre, was now faded and dull. 

She pushed the door open with a hesitant breath. The Skies and their children sat on various different seats around the room. Dawn Leaper, their youngest, had tears running down her cheeks as she wept quietly in the corner, comforted by her husband, Air Brusher. 

And rough, tough Prism Dart, who was like his mother in so many ways, and whom she hadn't seen shed a tear since he was eleven, had his hooves covering his face as his brother, Sun Sweeper, who had red eyes of his own, patted his back gently as they both to tried to get their father to acknowledge them.

Soarin sat in the middle of the room, staring blankly into space, as if still reeling from shell-shock. His eyes were rimmed red and in his hoof he clutched a ring, simple and golden, with an elegant diamond that caught the light and refracted it in a spectral shine around the room. 

The bed next to him was empty. 

Twilight's heart sank as her eyes grew hot. She had felt Dash go, she had felt the last of the original Elemental magic fade with her last friend. And yet, seeing the devastation her best friend had left behind brought back feelings so bittersweet in nature, Twilight thought she was going to give in there and then. 

She hadn't been able to bear to watch the last of her friends go. Hadn't been able to bear to watch the light fade out her eyes, couldn't bear to witness her last breath, like she had witnessed Pinkie's, and Fluttershy's, and Rarity's, and Applejack's. 

She wished she could flee the numbness that followed each of their deaths, wished she could spend the rest of her days in peace, studying, reading, watch from afar the beautiful Flurry Heart grow into the sovereign she was destined to be.

But she couldn't. She had to maintain her composure. With Celestia, Luna and Cadence ascended, Flurry and her were all Equestria had left.

Twilight had built herself a reputation as the people's princess. They loved her, and she appreciated their trust. And yet... there was a painful emotion, a guilty emotion, building up inside her, hot and regretful. If only she had been brave enough to say goodbye.

"I... I'm sorry, Soarin," Twilight muttered, her hoof hovering in the air near his shoulder blades, not knowing quite what to do. "You're no stranger to grief. It's the only way to heal. It's the price we pay for love."  

Twilight breathed out, her breath shaky. All she could think about was the image of Flash in her mind. His laugh, the exact hue of his blue eyes, the tone of his voice. The softness of his wings. 

His funeral.

She had already payed the price. 

"You weren't there." A soft whisper came from beside her. 

Twilight blinked and looked down. 

Soarin, who had been previously ghostly and silent, had spoken hoarsely. 

"Pardon?" She murmured, as Prism and Sunny lifted up their heads. 

"She died. She's gone. And you weren't there to say goodbye." Soarin repeated, but this time it was a soft, angry hiss. 

Twilight flinched, opened her mouth, blinking in shock. Dawn Leaper opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it quietly. 

"I..." 

"You could have done something, should have done something, you could have stopped it happening-" Soarin started, his voice shaking, the same blank look in his eyes. 

"Soarin, please, you-" 

"I don't understand," he reiterated, this time meeting her gaze with hazy green eyes, "were you being cowardly? Why. Weren't. You. THERE." 

"Soarin!" Twilight nearly shouted, calm, shaky, but authoritive. "It was not my place to stop it happening." 

Something inside Soarin seemed to shatter, his eyes widening as if he had just awoken from a nightmare. He met her gaze with a piercingly heartbroken stare and tears began to run freely down his already-stained cheeks. 

And what made it even worse was that she was being a coward. She had run from the one thing she had dreaded most over the past year. 

And by Celestia, did she regret it. 

"Sorry..." he mumbled, collapsing his face in his hooves, "I'm sorry... I don't... I..." 

Twilight smiled sadly. "It's alright," she hushed him, her heart twinging with grief, "I miss her too." 

"Why..." Soarin moaned, wrapping himself in his wings, "does it hurt so much?"

"You and Dash..." Twilight started, in an attempt to placate him, as her eyes grew unfocused and watery, "had something really, truly special. I... I can't explain it. Even Cadance can't explain it, and she's the goddamn Princess of Love. It was like... like Fausti herself made you two to fit together." 

Soarin said nothing in reply, just curled up tighter. She let him be engulfed by his children, all three of whom had manes just as vibrant as Dash's had been, and left the room as the Skies family dissolved into a heap of grief, hot tears and murmured comfort. She had tried, but the scene was too melancholic to stand.

The only way to bear grief was to grieve.

Twilight's eyes shone with tears as her horn lit up in a soft purple glow, gleaming in the dark corridor like a star, bright and lonely in the way only things that lived forever were.

Immortality was a gift and a curse. 

Like chains of gold that bound her to this life, and she dared not to sever it out of fear of what dwelt beneath the fall. 

But love... love isn't mortal or immortal. It just is.

Rainbow Dash had no fear, and in that way, she was the bravest of them all.
> The Toll Of Greatness
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes, Twilight felt the loneliness creep back in, uninvited, through the cracks in her heart.

She liked to go up to the palace's highest tower, the one where she raised the sun and the moon. 

Like right now, for instance.

Twilight gazed across the kingdom of Equestria. Her kingdom. She watched as the sun melted across the horizon, kissing the land goodnight with it's fiery touch. She had never been able to set it as well as Celestia had, but had done it so many times now it felt like second nature. 

She outstretched her wings and caught the last of the sun's warmth as it disappeared, her violet aura glowing and gyrating around her long horn. 

One hundred years since her friends' passings, Equestria had changed a lot. Wars had been fought, and won, technology had been invented. The use of magic, academic type specifically, had decreased significantly within the past seven decades. Unicorns barely knew how to perform the simplest telekinesis spell, let alone a summoning or transfiguration charm.

Equestria hadn't seen Elemental magic for over a hundred years. 

And don't get her wrong- Equestria was a beautiful place, harmony still ruled over dissidence and discord, laughter and loyalty and kindness and honesty and generosity were still found flourishing the heart of homes. 

Magic was less so, of course, but present even so in the School For Gifted Unicorns, founded by the one and only Celestia, or the Royal Academy Of Advanced Sorcery, founded by Twilight herself.

But... Twilight missed her friends. Like missing a leg, or wing, it was a phantom limb effect. Sometimes she would wake up and automatically start getting ready for their Saturday morning get togethers at Sugarcube Corner- bless the little bakery, it had been run by Cakes for generations- and then remember she couldn't. 

Or she would stumble across something interesting in a textbook, and turn to one of her friends to remark it, and the remember remember couldn't hear her and they never would again. 

Soarin had passed just years after his wife, and Twilight hoped that they were together somewhere, in a better place. She had seen their children go as well, and their children's children. 

She had seen her own children die, her grandchildren, and dear Celestia... that hurt more than anything. No mother should have to bury a child, no matter how old. Memories of them, all of them, her family, the closest ponies to her heart, were both painful reminders and priceless jewels she treasured at all costs.

Twilight had one of the most intelligent minds in the kingdom. She was reknown for her faultless intellect, well-practised scientific methods, designing ingenuity, philosophical comprehension, leadership, consistency, ability to deliver... one would think it would bear an immense amount of pressure on a singular pair of shoulders.

But she was an alicorn, she had been blessed with not only physical prowess but mental as well. And even before her Ascension, she dealt with life in an organised and well-practised way. 

She had explored every possibility. Every consequence, physical and meta-physical. It was selfish, she knew it was. Moral ethics, the laws of the Universe, the nature of existence... they all screamed against her. She couldn't give those she loved immortality, as much as she yearned to. 

And it broke her heart. 

She had seen generation after generation of her friends' families live and die, and eventually the pain had become too much, and as much as she wanted to flee, to lock herself in her castle with only her longest friend as comfort, she had a country to run. 

So everyday, she dragged herself out of bed, put on a beguiling smile, and covered up the massive holes her friends had left in her heart. 

Spike was a reassuring constant in her life. Dragons could live up to seven hundred years old, and although the little dragon was now taller than her, and nearing his prime, Twilight sought comfort in the fact that she at least had another half-millenia in his company.

Because once he was gone, for the first time in her life, the Princess of Friendship would be really, truly alone. 

And yet, despite all this, up here, on this tower, looking down at her beautiful country, the scale and vastness and glory of the sky, the contours and swell of the land below, the tiny lights that were slowly flickering on like fireflies across the city, she felt a bittersweet emotion. 

Pride. 

This tower was her special place, her pocket of calm with the eye of a swirling economical storm, where she could forget about trade, and politics, and legislations she had to sign, important figures she had to see. 

It had a white marble balcony on which she tended a few magical herbs, and the comfortable array of mismatched cushions she had brought such a long time ago from her library in Ponyville. 

That seemed like a lifetime ago she ran the Golden Oak library. 

Probably because it was. 

But her tower nook was a nice dose of nostalgia. It was where she could read, and study, and breathe, and think. It was so quiet up here, she could hear the echoes of thoughts in her head. 

She had come here a lot to grieve. 

There were five statues there, their bottoms swirled with with crawling ivy and vines of sweet honeysuckle. Created by no sculpture, but by an advanced spell, which had allowed Twilight to create forms of granite and marble in likeness of her mind's eye. 

Of course, they had stained glass windows and various other statues and museums and memoriums on the Elements of Harmony, but they had never quite captured her friends how Twilight had pictured them. 

Pinkie Pie had been always been too serene, Applejack too delicate. Rainbow Dash too soft and Rarity nearly always too reserved, too cold. And Fluttershy... not, well, shy enough.

So Twilight crafted clear white statues, on rounded pedestals, her friends how they appeared in her memories. Ageless statues, immune to wear, preserved by the power of the oldest magic in time, the sorcery of the divine. And on their chests, they bore their Elemental necklaces, their emblems. 

Pinkie Pie, practically glowing in the golden light with unequivocal joy, her radiance captured in the ear-to-ear beam, laugh-lines and frivolous curls. 

Applejack, with a serious expression and twinkle in her eye, sturdy, muscular, dependable, signature stetson tilted charmingly over her eyes, slightly larger in stature than the rest. 

Rainbow Dash, rough and windswept, caught mid-take off, always in motion. Her large, slender wings were keen and impressive, like whetted blades, and her striking eyes gleamed with exhilaration. 

Rarity, with limitless opulence, marble ringlets tossed carefully over a shoulder, hooves laid on a plush fabric, asking no compensation, for she knew her friends' smiles would be her reward.

And lastly, Fluttershy, sweet and gentle, mane and lashes long, her hoof outstretched with songbirds chirping on her wing, eyelids half-lowered shyly, as her charity knew no limit. 

"Princess?" A small voice sounded behind her. 

Twilight turned to see a small, pink unicorn with a tawny waved mane and big brown eyes staring up at her. 

"Oh, Luster Dawn!" Twilight smiled, stepping her hooves and folding her wings together neatly. In the long days of solemnity, her little student was a welcome beacon of light into a boring monochromatic schedule. "How did you get here? Did Spike point you up?" 

"I used a tracking rune," Luster Dawn smiled, eyes lighting up as she talked enthusiastically about the method, "I found it in one of Starburst's old memoirs, it's really quite interesting, taking the magical traces of a pony's being and using the mainstream magic flow to offer a tangible trail!" 

"Well, that is very interesting," Twilight chuckled, although she already knew exactly how a tracking rune worked. It was really quite impressive how much the little filly knew already about advanced magical studies, especially those of such intricacy as the complex notation of runology. 

That's why Twilight had picked the unicorn to be her apprentice. Not only was she top of her class at the RAoAS, she had been touched by the young unicorn's letters to her. Luster Dawn reminded Twilight of herself at that age. 

"Was there something you wanted, dear one? Is everything still going alright at home?" Twilight asked, sitting down on the cushions and patting rhe space next to her. The filly took it, sighing as her face fell. 

"Well, mom and dad are fighting again. I, um... I left while while were in the middle of an argument." 

"Oh, Luster." Twilight lowered a wing over her student's back comortingly. "I'm sorry to hear that. Are you alright?" 

"I'm fine..." the unicorn scrunched up her face. "I just don't really want to talk about it." 

"Of course," Twilight nodded understandingly. "Truth be told," she added, leaning in, "I haven't had the best day myself." 

Luster Dawn raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Really? But you're a Princess!" 

Twilight chuckled. "I may be a Princess, Luster, but I am hardly immune to the bores that come with listening to the Minister of Exportation Finance manage to talk about the success of international banana trade stock markets for three hours straight." 

Luster Dawn giggled. "That does sound quite distressing." 

"Well, perhaps a some nice tea will banish our woes, hmmm?" 

"Alright," Luster agreed. 

Using a summoning spell, Twilight conjured up a silver tea tray from the kitchen, complete with two tea cups, a small jug of milk and a steaming pot of Earl Grey.

The alicorn used her telekinesis to pour the small unicorn a cup, before taking one herself and sighing into the relaxing bitterness of the hot beverage. 

"Princess," the soft question came from Twilight's left. "Do they still love me?" 

Twilight's cheeks puffed up as she nearly spat out her tea. "My goodness, Luster," she gasped, gazing at her student's who's eyes were wide, with a glimmer of doubt, "of course they love you! And don't you dare think otherwise!" 

Luster Dawn sighed. "Yeah, I know. Sometimes it feels like I'm invisible, though." 

Twilight made a mental note to have a gentle talk with Mayflower and Thistle Berry, Luster's parents. "Hey," Twilight smiled softly, curling her small student underneath her wing, "you are anything but invisible. Unless, of course," she added as an afterthought, "we are practising illusion spells." 

Luster Dawn giggled. "Thank you, Princess." 

"You are most welcome, my little student. Now, will you tell me about your latest academic indagation?" 

Twilight smiled as the little unicorn's face brightened up, eyes shining in a credit to her name, as Luster started chattering excitedly. Her student's fervour, thirst, eagerness and dedication to her studies was both commendable and familiar. 

"Oh, okay," Luster sank into a familiar and comfortable state of conversation, "what to tell, what to tell... there are so many things... oh! Well, what about the transfiguration analysis I conducted last week? Vertebrate to invertebrate is especially difficult as the spinal cord needs to dissipate into absolute matter..." 

Twilight listened intently as her student relaxed into her explanation. They sat there for a good hour and a half, talking about both their favourite thing: their studies. 

Twilight often found herself smiling in an uncurbed manner, a manner which was becoming rarer and rarer with each year that passed. Luster brought back elements of her youth and her delight for knowledge, and reminded the alicorn about all the little things he life that were worth living for. Twilight looked forward immensely to their meetings. 

Was this how Celestia had felt, such a long time ago, when she had rambled on about her own studies, the Sun Princess' most faithful student?

Twilight still remembered Princess Celestia's last letter to her. She had been able to hear her mentor's voice speaking the words aloud. The paper was blemished where tears- both Twilight's and Celestia's- had stained the parchment, some of the Sun Princess' swirling copperplate smudged. 

When Luster Dawn had bidden her goodnight, and was accompanied home by the ever-willing Spike, Twilight retreated back into her personal study and immersed herself in studies, old studies, studies that brought back memories both sweet and bitter in character. 

Some are born to be great. Flurry Heart, Prism Dart. Their lives were paths already lain out in the field of destiny, and they had only needed to be walked. 

Some strive to achieve greatness. Starswirl the Bearded. Clover the Clever. Rarity. Dash, the Wonderbolts. Coloratura, Photo Finish, Sunburst. Every pony who had ever worked hard to reach their goals, stretched the extra mile to touch the stars, who had resilience beyond their years and expectations. 

And some, Twilight thought, had greatness thrust upon them, and whom had no choice but to fulfil their destiny. Who felt the weight of the world on their backs, and to know that they were fighting not for fame, not for glory, not for personal validation, but for something much, much bigger than themselves. 

She supposed she knew what category she fell in. And sometimes she wonders about what would have happened if she didn't. If she was just a normal pony, with a normal life, destined to play her part in the endless cycle of life, and when her time was up, the curtain would rise and fall and that would be it. The end of Twilight Sparkle. 

But she wasn't. 

And it hurt.
> How The Stars Weep
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a quiet, cool night, with a faint breeze that tickled the ends of Twilight's mane. She gazed at the moon, of which she had duly raised, as the celestial object effused a lustre, silvery light that seemed to turn every rooftop in Canterlot into a painted mirror after the downpour of drizzle that had blown over the city earlier. 

She loved rainy nights like these, when the air settled and the world slowed down and the dampness allowed everything to smell brighter and stronger. She could smell the cool rain and the wet earth from below, and the vines of honeysuckle that wound their way up the sides of the Royal balcony, sweet and fragrant. 

The earth seemed to just relax a little bit, letting its secrets go unguarded, like the luminous eyes of the fox that sprinted across the rose garden, or the baby barn owls that cooed from the rafters, or the way the wind fluttered the curtains ever so slightly. 

"Mommy," a quiet, high-pitched voice whispered from the side of her. 

Twilight turned to her left to see her daughter sitting next to her on the balcony, the filly's blue-striped navy mane tangled and curling from sleep. She smiled. 

"Yes, my little sorcerer?" She replied, lowering herself gracefully down to the ground so she was level with the little unicorn.

Starfall frowned through her yawn, lifted a small, purple hoof to her mouth. "I can't sleep."  She murmured, shivering slightly in the cold night air. 

Twilight frowned as she wrapped a wing over her daughter, who nuzzled into the softness, grateful for the warmth. 

"Ah, is Cori snoring again?" She chuckled lightly, breathing in the filly's familiar scent of rosewood and apricots. 

"Cori is always snoring," Star groaned, "and Hestia started crying again."

Twilight tried hard to stifle her small chuckles. Coriolis, her eldest son who could and would sleep through an earthquake, was a notorious snorer, and she pitied her daughter who slept in the room next to his. And their youngest, Hestia, was only sixteen months old, and not a good sleeper. 

Poor Star. 

"I mean, seriously," her daughter grumbled again, "he sleeps like he's dead to the world. In fact, he'd remain completely asleep during a volcano eruption, or if the castle was besieged."  

"Hey!" An muffled, sleepy voice cracked blearily from the open French windows, "I heard- yawn- that..." 

Starfall rolled her eyes. "You were supposed to." 

"Not my fault you're such a light sleeper..." Cori retorted. "Wear earplugs or something, idiot."  

Star growled at him. "Ugh, I wanna just punch him in his smug little face-" 

"Starfall!" Twilight admonished, frowning. "Violence is never the answer." 

"Except when it is." Star grumbled. 

"There will be no punched annoying brothers," Twilight said, trying and failing to hide the mild amusement dancing in her eyes. 

"Not even a little bit? Not even a little nose break?"

"Absolutely not," Twilight replied, with the distinct tone of finality that all mothers held in their voice. 

"Ha! Told you," the voice from the room came once more, "and besides, I'm not nearly as bad as Dad." 

"What do you want, a gold star? Just shut up and go the sleep, moron." 

Twilight raised an eyebrow at her daughter's language, but said nothing. Since she had been spending loads of time at the Skies' house with Dash's kids- as Star's best friend was Dawn- Twilight wasn't, truthfully, surprised her daughter's language had become a bit fruitier. 

An angry grunt came from the room, before silence once more. Twilight shook her head humorously.

"What are you smiling at," Star grumbled, huffing in slight indignity. "You don't have to sleep listening to practically a bulldozer every night." 

"Oh, believe me, Star," Twilight snorted, "Cori got his snoring from one of his parents, and it certainly wasn't me." 

Starfall gazed at her pitifully. "Poor you, mom." 

"Poor me indeed. You know, Star, if Cori's really that bad, we can always change your room to another one in the Palace-" 

"No!" Her daughter interrupted hastily. "No, I like my room. It has a nice view, and I have my height charts on the wall, and my secret hidey-hole where I keep my collection of-" She shoved a hoof over her mouth.

Twilight pulled a curious face. "Secret collection of what?" 

"Uhhm, nothing. Nevermind." Starfall flushed, going a rather alarming shade of sangria. 

Her mother raised an eyebrow, but decided not to pry. She had read in a scholarly article that children deserved their own privacy in order to learn and develop their own sense of person. 

Plus, Star was really stubborn and pressing her for it would most likely get them nowhere.

"The cosmos is looking particularly lovely right now" Twilight smiled, resting her forehooves on the balcony. 

"If you do say so yourself," Star chuckled. 

"Hey!" Twilight chided playfully, "It really wasn't me. You know what's funny," she sighed, "I've never really gotten the hang of painting the sky. I don't know how or why, but somewhere, wherever Luna is now, she's still the one who organises the stars. I... can't really explain it. She is the stars, in a way." 

"Aunt Dash used to say she thought the stars were fireflies," Star giggled at the memory.

Twilight chuckled. "Yes, that does sound like something Rainbow Dash would say." 

There was a comfortable silence between them, as they looked up, peacefully enraptured by the star-stitched sky, impossibly big and impossibly bright. The clear night, combined with the height of the tower, allowed them to see as far as their eyes would let them. 

Starfall could see the large balls of burning hydrogen and helium, fiery colossal balls that seemed like small, glimmering pinpricks in a sheet of black fabric. She knew how stars worked, their lifecycles, delicate balances of gravitational pull and the force of fusion... but they still awed her every time. 

How one could create a phenomenon so... resplendent. 

"Where are Celestia and Luna?" Starfall asked, the question popping into her head without any real thought. 

Twilight looked down at her, taking her hooves off the balcony ledge in surprise. "What brought on this sudden question?" She replied. 

Star lifted her eyebrows nonchalantly. "I don't know..." she murmured. "It's just I've never really thought about it. Have you?" 

"All the time." Twilight replied, sighing. 

"So... what do you think?" 

Her mother shrugged. "I suppose... I've had a couple theories." 

"Like..." Star prompted. 

The alicorn lifted her gaze to the sky. "Well, I think it's probably different for every alicorn. There used to be loads of them, you know. Entire populations, in the Great Before."

"Really?" Star asked, blue eyes wide and dark in the moonlight. 

"Yes. Before the Concordian Era, otherwise known as the Equestrian Era, when Luna and Celestia assumed roles as diarchs. Before the Pre-Classical Period as well, and even before the Paleo Pony Age. Before all we know now to be normal society, there existed the Land Of The Alicorns. The Blessed Country. They called the land Etheria, and their capital Elysium. Their infrastructure was even more advanced and scientific than we could ever imagine, the very core of their society ran on the most powerful energy source known to ponykind- divine magic."

"Whoaa..." Star muttered, now decidedly more awake. "What else do we know about them?"

"Well, their herbology was unique, their methods unprecedented by our kind. They knew not of pollution, nor segregation. They lived in a world free of hate and anger and jealousy. And although they knew pain, for life does not exist without it, the children of the land used to frolick free of trouble, their parents sent them out free of fear, to play in the rolling hills and green valleys, filled with the everlasting abundance of flowers and insects and all creatures great and small. 

And a bit of that magic has lasted. You see how even know, the power of Etheria still runs through the ground of Equestria itself. It still aids mainstream magic, still causes the manes of it's citizens to wave in ethereal breeze." 

Here, Twilight gestured to her long, flowing purple mane, dark and diaphanous. 

Star frowned. "But you never lived in Elysium, mom." 

"No, I didn't." Twilight sighed almost wistfully. "But being part of a culture is more than just if you were alive at a certain time and place. When you have the magic, you belong. But can you imagine how exciting it must have been? All the fascinating new technology and plant species?" 

"It probably would've been normal to them," Star frowned. 

"Yes," Twilight chuckled, "you're right." 

"So what about where the alicorns are now?" Star asked, "That doesn't explain where they all went." 

Her mother tutted playfully. "Patience is a virtue, daughter mine. I was just getting to that part. Elysium was ruled by the most benevolent of leaders. The first and oldest alicorn diarch known goes by the name of Fausti. Some called her their Queen Fausti. Other dubbed her the 'Bringer Of Light', or 'Keeper Of Dawn' Some simply called her 'The Lady'. Whatever she was referred to as, she was revered by all. 

Nopony knows where she came from, but it's suspected that she was one of the original spirits, restless forms of existence that roamed the empty multiverse right at the inconceivably early beginning of time. They came in all sorts of shapes and sizes, some tangible, some not, some sentient and others passive. Some say she was born from nothing into a cloud of chaos, destined to divide the clutter of cacophonic matter into land and sky and sea, to bring order and harmony to the Dissidence. Others say she created Etheria entirely from her own powers, or she found barren wastelands of pre-existing primordial rock and transformed them into pastures of lush grounds and rich diversity, subsequently establishing the foundations of Elysium itself. 

Using her magic, she breathed life into Etheria, and craft her first creation, in the image of herself. Creatures blessed with both wings and horn. They bore the gift of eternal life." 

"The alicorns," Star interrupted, and Twilight nodded. 

"Yes. And you may wonder why there were two thrones in the sisters' castle of ancient, two thrones that have stood there and will continue to stand there for as long as time itself. For you see, at first, Fausti never intended to take a consort. But love, as it always does, took her by surprise. 

She had never felt such an emotion before. Nox was another alicorn, one equal to her in power- and most surprising of all, he was not descended from the ones she had created. He was an inter-dimensional original spirit, born from chaos, bringing order, just like she had been. He intruiged her, she had never seen another like herself before. 

To her bright day and warm sunlight and forests and hills, he brought sweet night and cool moonlight and deep lakes and roaring rivers. And so, it came to be that she raised the sun, and he raised the moon, equal and balanced and harmonious like all things should be. An apt reflection on the very principles of which they ruled Etheria by." 

"Huh," Star mused. "Has there always been two diarchs? Two rulers?" 

Twilight nodded. "There always used to be. Fausti and Nox had two daughters. Can you guess who they are?" 

"Celestia and Luna?" 

"That's right," Twilight nodded, "except back then, they were known as Celeste and Alune. And contrary to what ponies believe nowadays, they weren't goddesses. At least, not fully-fledged ones." 

"What do you mean?" 

"The demigod alicorns all had different roles. While the Royal family were responsible for the keeping of time, of night and day, other alicorns specialised in affairs of Love, of Friendship. Only the best in their fields ascended to become fully-fledged deities. Celestia and Luna were demigods in their own right until they ascended, and become at one with their natures. Believe it or not, they didn't actually become fully mature goddesses like their parents until relatively recently.

Anyway, we don't know where Etheria came from, in fact, we know little about our own world, and our place in existence. The furthest we can trace back is Queen Fausti, and even then, our knowledge is shaky. Uncertain. Hazy. It was hard to accept that there was such an advanced world before the earliest evolutions of ordinary ponykind." 

"What happened to them?" Star questioned.

Twilight's ears drooped slightly. 

"They were massacred." 

"What?" Starfall asked, shocked at the sadness and severity of her mother's tone. 

Twilight sighed. "Life is never perfect, and when there is seemingly untouchable tranquility, tribulation is never far behind. The inter-dimensional spirirts like Fausti and Nox wander restlessly through space and time, always seeking a place to build an empire. But not all, like the kindly rulers of Elysium, have amiable intentions. 

Another spirit had grown jealous of Fausti's success in settling down. They called it 'The Affamé', or-" 

"The Starved," Star murmured, crossing her hooves under her chin. 

"Yes. It was a singular entity spread across multiple beings. Large, irregular forms that were both intangible and formidable. They were plagues, hungry, merciless and full of chaos magic, mindless creatures who's sole purpose was to devour, destroying homes, poisoning the earth, turning forests into burnt wastelands, villages into smouldering graveyards. 

And within the space of what we would call a fortnight, or what they would call a half-moon cycle, most of Etheria had crumbled crumbled to ash and bracken.  

All the remaining alicorns convened in the strongest and most ancient part of the land: their capital, Elysium, and home to Fausti and the ponies of her blood. They held a meeting, a convening in the Great Hall, the only building in the entire capital which had remained unscathed. 

Fausti did not smile. 

They were desperate. Amidst the chaos and the confusion and the anxiety for the very bones of their civilisation, they looked to their leader, their founder, for guidance."

"What?" Star asked, eyes wide, "What did she do?" 

Twilight breathed, and a strange sort of ancient power seemed to hum within her. 

"She drew upon the divine magic of her people. She channelled their loyalty, their kindness, their generosity, their honesty and their joy. And to these, she added her own divine magic."

"She... she created the Elements of Harmony?" 

"Hmm... well, no, not exactly. More like... she capture their essence and stored them in tangible forms- crystals- that could be used by anyone worthy enough." 

"Woah..." Star murmured. "So, did she kick their ass- uh, I mean, defeat them?" 

"Yes... and no. The Affamé were composed of pure ungodly magic, magic that scorched the Earth and blackened the trees. The kind that shriveled flowers and scratched at your skin, made you restless, and would eventually drive you insane. Such an evil thing could not survive so close to such bearers of grace, such as, for example, Elemental Crystals. The power of good, as grossly overexaggerated, will always find a way to succeed. 

But Fausti knew that no victory comes freely. She knew that if she channelled her magic through the Elements, and used her essence to destroy the creed, there was a likely chance that she would perish in the process. Inter-dimensional spirits are powerful things, especially those of malicious nature, and Fausti knew that the odds of her making it out alive were slim." 

"She sacrificed herself?" Star asked, sadly. The bravery of some characters... to give your own life, to walk willingly into the hands of death for the sake of others? The strength of those ponies was unimaginable. 

"I'm afraid to say that you're right," Twilight replied, and there was something in her mother's voice that made Star switch her gaze to the alicorn's. "But there was one small problem."

"Fausti breathed life into the land. She gave life to her subjects. And although she is not the creator of all, her life is tied to the very essence of the land itself. If she, the uncontested creator and ruler were to fall, Etheria itself would die with her, regardless of the Affamé. 

So she did what she had been waiting to do for a long time. She and Nox renounced their crowns, there and then, and the gilded circlets of twisted vines split apart to reveal something gold and shimmering underneath, like the dawning of a new day. A new time. 

Celestia and Luna were crowned then. Celeste and Alune, the daughter of the Heavens and the child of the Stars. The new rulers of Etheria, their of the land tied to their spirits. I believe they knew not of what their mother intended to do, what she was prepared to sacrifice to save them, to save them all. Their goodnights and kisses the evening of that Convening were bidden without the knowledge it was indeed their last."

Star exhaled shakily. Her mother's eyes were glazed over, almost as if she were recalling a memory, or having a flashback. Whatever it was, Star was intruiged, so she kept quiet and didn't interrupt.

"Nox refused to let Fausti face death alone. The next day, the Queen stood in front of the Wastelands. Her King stood besides her, for even on the brink of death, their love was a bond not even the most powerful of executioners could sever. 

Their daughters watched in horror as their parents used their Original magic to activate the Elements of Harmony. They watched as the spectrum of beaming light sent the Affamé up in flames, they watched as the Wastelands crumbled to ashes and violet blood drained the lands, forming purple rings around fallen creed.

They watched as their parents gave themselves, the very nature of their magic, into defeating the Affamé once and for all, the Crystals shattering into a million tiny pieces of raw power. 

They watched as the once mighty King and Queen drained themselves of their own life source, all to save what they had worked so hard to protect.

And they watched, as from the bloodied ashes where the rulers had fallen, the Tree grew. A small, bloody sapling at first, but a miraculously robust oak tree within weeks, tall and spiralling and woven with the groves of something that was really, much older. And they called it the Tree of Harmony, and swore to maintain the peace that their parents had given their sight and bodies and breath to. 

And so Equestria was created, the new land, tied to Celestia and Luna and all their disciples. Their students and citizens. All who had the divine magic were tied to the land, and all who lived their protected it.

But that wasn't enough for the sisters. They vowed that the land should never be found by the same type of Inter-dimensional spirit that vanquished nearly all of their once-beautiful home. 

They cast an enchantment, a Concealing Spell, once so powerful that even through the long, long time that has been the history of Equestria as we know it, not one single pony has ever found a trace of this land. They call it the Isle of the Blessed now, for it is so distant and unreachable they image it isolated from the rest of the world. The Gods live in peace. And we do not disturb them." 

Star frowned. Something didn't add up. "But if nobody else knew about it, apart from Celestia and Luna, how do you know about it?" 

Twilight hesitated. "I... I'm not quite sure. I feel like- sometimes I have visions, prenominal dreams... like a hidden part of me somehow knows everything. I... can't really explain it." 

And truthfully... she had nothing more to say. Twilight didn't really know how she knew all of this. Maybe it was a ruler-of-Equestria thing, maybe Celestia was trying to communicate with her from wherever she was now. 

Or maybe, just maybe, it was a lost memory. One she had certainly never experienced, but a kind of inherited memory, an instinct, as the newly hatched day-old arctic goose chick instinctively throws itself off an 400 foot cliff to reach the ground, or how a pigeon always knows which way is homebound. 

It was an instinct so strong she couldn't just ignore it. She had indulged in the dream, learning about the past. 

She had almost forgotten about Starfall listening wide-eyed at her feet. 

"Do you know where they are, mom?" Her daughter asked, curling up closer under her mother's wing. Twilight smiled, and cradled the small, warm body closer. 

"You what I truly think?" She whispered conspiratorially. 

"What?" Star giggled back. 

"Look up at the sky, Star," Twilight hushed her, "look and listen. Breathe in the air around you." 

Starfall tilted her head to look at the glorious expanse of the sky above, dark and shocking and glimmering, like a rich pony's dress dripping with jewels. She listened to the crickets chirping and the owls hooting and the wood pigeons cooing softly in the Palace grounds. She breathed in the cool air of night, the fresh scents and the damp, earthliness that day had yet to bring. 

"They are everywhere, Star," Twilight sighed quietly, almost inaudibly, "perhaps they are not a physical city or a town. Perhaps the Concealment Spell was so powerful that it whisked them away into the very bones of nature itself. Perhaps their love is in the union of couples, the celebration of love that comes in any shape or form. Perhaps their joy runs in the coherence of family life, or the sense of belonging to a household, a family, a community. Perhaps their magic runs through my veins, runs through your veins, runs through the earth itself."

"Wow..." Star mumbled, "way to blow my tiny mind..." 

"My darling," Twilight smiled, "you have one of the strongest minds I have yet to witness. I doubt even I could blow it away." 

And it was true. Twilight had been secretly delighted to watch her daughter take after her academically. 

"Thanks mom," Star yawned. 

"Time for bed I think," Twilight grinned, picking her daughter up softly. 

"Nooo..." Star moaned softly, "don't make me go back next to Cori..." 

Twilight chuckled. 

"Tell me one more thing, mom," Star asked, blue eyes like large, dark mirrors reflecting the cosmos above. "One more theory. Please?" 

"Alright," Twilight sighed, "one more thing." 

They sat there in silence for a bit, watching the odd shooting star fall across the sky like a brilliant, blinding red-hot scar. 

Twilight spoke eventually. "You know what I've always thought about the stars?"

"Yeah?" 

"It sounds rather far-fetched and super cliché... but I've always thought that the stars were the alicorns of old, in a way. Looking down on all of us from above, living the life some of them never got to live." 

"Like... angels?" 

"I suppose. And I know the science of stars, I know how they burn, how they work. But sometimes I can't help but wonder that if there is, nestled between all the fiery forms, the spirit of an fallen alicorn that burns just as brightly as the rest." 

"Hmmm." 

"That's why we named you Starfall, you know. You were our little angel that had fallen to Earth."

Her daughter said nothing, just smiled discreetly to herself as snuggled closer. Twilight could feel her filly nodding off slowly to sleep in her arms, as Star's muscles relaxed and the tension of consciousness slowly melted from her posture. 

And Twilight enjoyed the quiet moment with her daughter, the feel of the little body in her arms, brimming with personality and vibrancy and life, life that Twilight had created herself. 

Out of all the spells and discoveries and inventions Twilight had made over the years, her children were by far her most cherished creations. 

"Mommy?" Star asked, her voice heavy with sleep. 

"Yes my dear?" Twilight replied, stroking the filly's silky mane gently. 

"Will you join the stars one day?" Star asked, the question innocent and idle. 

And then something changed. The world seemed to shift, jolting under her hooves.

Twilight blinked. And although the question was unintentional and sweet, it shook her to her very core. 

What would happen to her? 

How long did alicorns even live? She knew Celestia and Luna were at least a couple of millenia old... Gods above.

This hadn't ever crossed her mind before. Her hooves shook slightly. 

She didn't even know how long her own children were going to live. Flash- Flash wouldn't- 

"Mommy?" Star asked, frowning, "are you okay?" 

Twilight looked her daughter, her beautiful, precious daughter, and for once in her life, had no answer. 

"I don't know..." Twilight murmured, her heart pounding and head surprisingly numb. She felt dizzy, and was swaying slightly on her hooves. 

"I... I don't know-" she repeated, and the suddenly everything was fading to black. 

The scene of the courtyard flaked away in front of her, changing from one image to the next- a time-lapse that spanned decades, huge towering structures rising in the distance, roads and streetlamps meandering their way into the distance building like snakes across sand. 

Above her, the sky flickered epileptically from day to night, before turning dark altogether. And in her hands, Starfall grew lighter and lighter, flaking away in her very grip, turning to nothing, dust and ash. Twilight tried to hold on, but she couldn't, her daughter was being snatched from her by some unknown force and she couldn't stop it- 

"Don't leave me, mommy!" Star cried, reaching out with the last fading ghost of her arms. "Don't leave me, don't let me go without you!" 

"I won't, baby, I won't-" Twilight replied, something hot and wet running down her cheeks. Star's eyes shone like watery sapphires in the strange, diaphanous light. 

"Promise I can stay with you forever, mommy? Promise?" Star wailed, as her arms shattered into dust and her eyes glowed, like the burning embers of a blue fire being briefly stoked by the wind that blew away the ash surrounding it. 

"I- I promise, Star- I promise-" Twilight screamed back, as her daughter melted from her grasp. 

And then her daughter was gone, and Twilight didn't know how to get her back.





The flames crackled and popped with a sort of dancing amusement, jumping and spitting its golden embers all over the stoker as their flaxen light permeated the State Room, dark in the early hours of the morning. 

Spike was enjoying his favourite ruby gems, and finishing official Amassador of Friendship paperwork by the fireplace when he heard Twilight's scream. 

He abandoned his pen and rushed out the room and up the gilded flights of stairs, red carpets gleaming a deep purple in the moonlight. 

Bursting into the Royal Chambers, Spike halted as he saw the disrupted bedsheets, eyes scanned the room frantically- because although he knew Twi was more than capable of protecting herself, old habits died hard. 

His heart flooded with relief as he spotted her at the balcony, chin tipped up towards the night sky. 

Joining her, he was silent as she turned to him. Her purple eyes were large and shimmering, cheeks stained with tears, and her mane had lost some of its wave. 

"Bad dream?" He muttered sympathetically. He knew she was plagued with nightmares ever since she had lost Lady Hestia- or Tia, as they liked to call her. A fond nickname for both Twilight's beloved mentor, and her youngest daughter. 

Twilight still remained soundless, her mane picking up as the wind whirled around them. 

Finally she spoke. "It was only a dream," she murmured, and even though her voice was barely audible, Spike could hear the sheer potency of the agony roaring behind it. "It was only a dream..." 

Above her, the stars seemed to weep at her broken promise.
> As If It Were The Last
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


'Live every second, minute, hour,
As if it were your last.
Life is too short,
To sit there and dwell on the past.'






"Question number fourteen. In what era was the amniomorphic spell created?" 

Luster Dawn furrowed her brow and bent her head over her parchment. The quill in her telekine aura hovered for a moment, before scribbling something down on the page. 

Although the use of quill and parchment was long outdated- pens and sheets were much preferred now- Twilight still liked to use the classic method of wizardry notation, especially since little people knew that the material actually held quantifiable properties that allowed a user to think more clearly. 

The lecture hall was half-filled with perhaps twenty students brave enough to take on her advanced level 'History Of Magic' class. This morning they were taking a quiz, and Twilight had just read out probably the easiest question on the entire mark scheme.

Which, judging by the complexity of it, was saying something. 

Twilight felt a little bit evil. It was only their second week back in term, and she was already giving them one of the hardest exams on the syllabus... but on the other hand, if they really were the best of the best, this should be a piece of cake. 

After the sound of nibs scratching on paper ceased, Twilight moved into the next question. 

"And finally, question number fifteen. Who founded the Equestrian Society Of Ethereal Study?" She didn't expect any of them to know the true answer, but she was curious to know what they would put nonetheless. Gleamer Starshine or the Lady Rose, perhaps? Both were noticeable sorcery pioneers recent to the last half-century. 

A small smile crept onto Luster's face, and while Twilight observed other pupils hesitating to record their answer, her personal tutee wrote down her response without a second of hesitation. 

Hmm. Curious.

"Alright, scholars, that is enough for this morning. Please hand your tests in at the front on your way out." 

She stood by and watched as they filed past her, slapping their sheets of parchment one by one. Luster was the last to leave the room, and Twilight held out a hoof to stop her. 

"Luster, wait a minute." 

"Yes, Princess?" 

"I would like to speak with you. Come," she gestured into the now-empty hallways. "Walk with me." 

They strolled down the hallway languidly, the plush red carpet soft beneath their hooves. On their left and right, large, gilded portraits of the greatest sorcerers ever to walk the soils of Equestria lined the walls. 

Honestly, Luster felt a bit restless. Almost... unsatisfied, somehow. Her History of Magic class partner, Ashwin Godfrey, had asked her out earlier. His green eyes had sparkled with hope, and she had been so tempted so say yes. But as much as she liked him, she had rejected him for the sake of her studies. For the purpose of perhaps one day being on these walls they passed.

Luster's eyes wandered as they passed Star Swirl the Bearded, Clover the Clever, Sunburst, Gleamer Starshine, The Lady Rose, as well as some more recent magical pioneers, such as Golden Glaze, discoverer of pencillin, or Lilia le Blanc, who created the Bone-Mending Spell. 

And finally, at the very end of the corridor, where the hallway split into two paths going west and east, a portrait hung facing all of the rest. 

A unicorn stood in the centre, tall and willowy. There was a regality in her posture, the way her head was held high and proud, her long, navy mane curling gently past her shoulders, striped with streaks of gleaming cobalt. Against the darkness of the night sky behind her, penetrated only by the thin pinpricks of the white light of stars, her bright blue eyes seemed to glimmer just as brightly, the colour of cornflowers. The aura around the mare's horn was the same shade, and even from just the painting, one could imagine how it would oscillate ethereally around her horn. 

Luster gazed up at the portrait with large eyes. There was something so familiar about the mare, something about the way she held herself, the relaxed yet powerful stance of her shoulders. 

"Luster, do you know who this is?" Twilight asked her student, turning to face the little unicorn. 

"Star Sentry," Luster nodded, reading the golden plaque next to the painting, "founder of the ESES. One of the smartest ponies in the field." 

Twilight nodded, a slight smile on her face. "Indeed. I'm curious... not many people know of the Equestrian Society Of Ethereal Study. I wonder... how did you come across it?" 

Luster's face darkened sheepishly. "I may have... read about it in your library..." 

Twilight felt a chuckle bubble to her throat. "Well, I have always said you were more than welcome to utilise my private library for your academic needs. Within reason, of course." 

"Yes, Princess." 

"But what I was more curious about is how you know about Miss Sentry? Not many scholars nowadays are interested in Etherea, much less those who studied it." 

Luster shrugged. "I mean I guess... I mean, I guess sometimes I just have questions, you know? Questions that none of the other professors at RAoAS could answer, and you aren't always here..." 

"What sort of questions- if I may ask?"

"Oh," Luster seemed a bit surprised, "well, pretty silly ones, I guess."

"There's not such thing as-" 

"- a silly question, yes I know," Luster finished for her mentor, and Twilight hid a smile. "Just things like... how do we know space is still expanding? How do we know how the Universe started- if not why? What's the nature of reality?"

"Those are some big questions," Twilight observed.

"And- and maybe the one I wanted to know the most was... where do alicorns to when they die? I mean, they're virtually immortal- no offence Princess-"

"None taken, my dear."

"And why is it that some pass on while others don't? Princess Cadenza passed on eventually but her daughter Flurry Heart didn't- but she didn't really pass on, she just- she just disappeared one day. And where did Cadence go? Where did Celestia and Luna go?" 

The question shook something in the very centre of Twilight. It triggered a memory, a beautiful thing, which she had been so determined not to turn into a nightmare. Her heart sank.

Promise I can stay with you forever.

Her student must have detected a change in Twilight's face, because she asked "Princess? Are you alright?"

"Hmm?" Twilight snapped out of her reverie, "Oh yes, I'm fine, thank you. Those are some brilliant questions, Luster." 

Her student smiled shyly. 

Twilight stared at her for a moment, before turning back to the portrait. "I love questions. Something about them, the big ones and the little ones. The desire that ponykind has to discover, to innovate, to create. The yearn for knowledge..."

"Mmm." Luster hummed her agreement. 

"Star was someone very close to me," Twilight smiled almost melancholically, reaching a purple hoof up to brush the plaque free of non-existent dust. 

"Really?" Luster replied, turning to study her mentor intently. 

"Yes. I knew her better than anyone ever did." 

There was the same tone in her voice, that Luster had at first thought was the mourning of a friend, perhaps, or even a relative. But there was a striking tone to her voice, something more more intimate, a special kind of grief that seemed to render the heart strings themselves. As if the Princess had lost a part of herself.

Luster frowned, then gasped softly as she raised her head to meet her mentor's. The long navy mane... the purple coat... the exalted posture... it couldn't be... 

"Wait- was she- you don't mean that Star Sentry was the same Starfall who was-" 

"My daughter." Twilight finished for her, smiling. "She didn't like to work in the public eye, she found it too stressful and her work was too delicate."

"So that's why there aren't many pictures of her in the ESES manuscripts..."

"Exactly," Twilight nodded, "and she preferred to use her father's name, to keep the press away. It was a very covert study, only a few specialists- all trained by her- worked on the project." 

"Why didn't you help her?" 

"I did," Twilight smiled, "and working alongside her was one of the fondest memories I have. She amazed me. But having a country to run, I was naturally preoccupied."  

"She had a lot of questions like you," Twilight exhaled, glancing up at the portrait with a maternal fondness. "And she decided to go answer them herself." 

Twilight smiled sadly, and there was a taste of pride in the expression, marred with the tang of grief. 

"I mean... is she still...?"

"She was mortal. She died half a century before you were born." 

"I'm... I'm sorry..."

"Don't be." Twilight placed a hoof over Luster's shoulders. "Coriolis kept my spirit, Hestia my joy. But Star... she held my pride. And her mortal life only drove her further than I'd ever believed was possible, to discover things that I'd never disclosed." 

Luster nodded in understanding. "But why do we know about the ESES now, if it was such a secret project?" 

Twilight's smile faded ever so slightly. "After her... after she passed, I decided to publish papers in her pseudonym. It seemed the right thing to do, she would have wanted recognition for her work, in the end. And I couldn't... I couldn't let her go uncredited for what she had achieved. Did you know, she discovered fourteen new plant species that had existed in Etherea, raising the total to thirty-two? And she travelled to the Saddlian Deserts to uncover fossils and infrastructure buried deep in the ground."

"Woah..." Luster's eyes shimmered with the prospect of adventure.

Twilight nodded emphatically, before leading Luster away from the portrait and out of the lecture hall into the Palace. 

"Come, my most faithful student. I think it is time for another lesson in Friendship."





Golden rivulets of light streamed through the shards of colourful glass in the stained windows, smattering the Hall of Friendship with pockets of vibrantly toned light. 

Luster had always loved the Council's meeting room: the pillars were tall and crystalline, soaring upwards into the voussoirs and blending seamlessly into the translucent ceiling. The reflective nature of the quartz ceiling seemed to sing of the boundless glories of scientific and artistic triumphs, the ceiling seemingly stretching up endlessly into the sky in a celestial epistrophe. 

Closing the double gilded doors behind them, Twilight nodded to the Royal Guards who were manning their posts diligently, and they bowed stiffly and exited the room. 

In the centre of the room, there lay a large, round marble table. Upon the table lay a map, so detailed and pedantic that Luster thought if Equestria were to be destroyed, and only the map remained, then it could surely be built back again to a striking likeness. 

Around the table sat six, large marble thrones. There was a solemnity about them, a tenor embedded in the intricate carvings of the handles or the marks etched into the heads of them, that spoke of a great, monumental power more ancient than time itself. 

The Elements of Harmony.

Luster knew what they were, of course. The whole of Equestria did. Their Bearers had been some of the most reknown historical figures in the History of ponykind: Applejack represented Honesty, Fluttershy was Kindness. Pinkie Pie embodied Laughter, Rarity was Generosity, and Rainbow Dash depicted Loyalty. And of course, her own mentor, Princess Twilight Sparkle, represented the Element of Magic. 

For years they had governed the Council, not always present, but meeting biannually. And when the mortal Bearers had passed away, others stood up. Sometimes it was their descendants, other times it would be others, of all types of shape and form and size and species- but all with something to prove, and all with something that was worth it. 

Yet, the cutie marks of the Elements had remained the same. Over time, they had become known simply as the symbols for the Elements. Behind each chair was a window, portraying each of the original Bearers forever captured in the coloured glass. 

Twilight walked round the table, and sat in her chair at the head. Luster, unsure of what to do, hovered near the other end. 

Twilight, sensing her uncertainty, smiled and waved her hoof. Suddenly, another chair had appeared besides her, less grandiose than the Thrones of the Bearers, but comfortable nonetheless. 

Luster smiled shyly and sat down next to her mentor, in front of the table, which was laden with books and various other maps. Using her telekinesis to ring a small, golden bell, Twilight shifted the books off the table and pulled out a larger, sturdier one. 

A pretty, white unicorn popped her head through a door to the side of the Hall, her black mane scraped back into a tight but efficient bun.

"You called, Princess?" She asked, and her accent was foreign- Prench, maybe?

"Hi, yes Feather," Twilight lifted her head and smiled at the unicorn, "could we get some tea, please?"

The unicorn- Feather- nodded, seemingly pleased to be of service. "Right away, Princess."

Luster has always been a little in awe of her mentor and the prestige that came with ruling a country. Sometimes she found it hard to believe that the actual Princess of Equestria was her own personal mentor. Her- a rather unimportant filly from a trivial background. Even the chairs were gilded and stately-

"These chairs appear so stately, Luster," Twilight explained, "because really, it is not I who rules the people. It's the values these Elements represent."

Oops, Luster thought. Had she said that last part out loud?

Twilight chuckled at the surprised look on her face and continued. "The ponies of Equestria are dictated by their sense of kindness, their generosity. Honesty is key to a functioning economy, Loyalty to healthy relationships. And really, can you imagine what the world would be without Laughter?"

Luster raised her eyebrows as Feather offered her a cup of tea. It was dark and bitter, with a hint of creamy sweetness bleeding through. Just the way she liked it. Her eyes flickered up to the glass windows, fascinated by the way the light glimmered just by the eyes of each of the portraits of the window, almost like tears. Tears of sepulchral, majestic, joyous beauty. 

"What were they like?" Luster asked suddenly, surprising Twilight. "The original Element Bearers? I mean obviously you knew them, but..."

"They were my best friends." Twilight's face curved instinctively up into a smile. "They were the ponies who knew me best in the whole world. I didn't chose them to be Bearers, Gods, they didn't even choose themselves. But without them, with their faith and love and support, I wouldn't have ever been here, standing where I am right now." 

"They sound great..." Luster smiled. 

"They truly were. Dash was so brave, Fluttershy genuinely the kindest pony I'd ever met. Rarity may have appeared superficial on the surface, but once you got to know her, her generosity astounds you. Applejack took care of us all, and Pinkie Pie... Celestia, I don't have enough words to describe Pinkie." 

"Why weren't they immortal as well?" 

Twilight sighed. "There are some things even I don't understand, Luster. Like, why was I chosen to succeed Celestia, why was I the only one to become a Princess? To be honest, I'm sure I could give you a lot of reasons. Perhaps it was because I was the most academically able, perhaps it was because I had the right mindfulness for it. Or, perhaps, it was because I had the biggest lesson to learn." 

"What was that?"

Her mentor's voice was rueful. "The simplest lesson of all. I had to learn the value of Friendship."

"Wait- what?" Luster was confused. Wasn't Twilight the literal Princess of Friendship?

"Believe it or not, Luster," Twilight continued, "there was a time where I had no friends. Where I knew absolutely nothing about being a good friend, a reliable friend. It was I who had to fall and fall again before I finally started to climb." 

"How did you know what to do?" Luster asked. 

"I didn't. I had absolutely no idea what to do."

"Then how did you succeed?"

"How every great figure in ponykind's history did. I learnt from my mistakes. I'm still learning from my mistakes. And perhaps the beautiful thing about this world is that I'll never know everything. I'll never stop learning." 

Luster nodded. 

"And in truth, Luster," Twilight continued, turning he gaze up to the portraits of her friends, "questioning mortality has always been something I've been afraid to do." 

There was a silence before it was filled with the inevitable question. 

"Why?" Luster asked, genuinely curious.

"Because it's so... irrevocable. You cannot take back immortal life once you have given it. I may be powerful within nature, Luster, but I am not above it. I feel it would be... unnatural for me to go around giving immortality to ponies who- although who I care for dearly- weren't chosen by nature- or who weren't forced upon it. 

And I know that can make me sound all sorts of horrible, but nature demands balance. It demands coherence. With the sacrifice of eternal life, you forfeit other qualities of life. Can you imagine if everyone was immortal? Overpopulation would be a huge issue- without the dead the make space for the living, where would people live? What would be achieved, without the pressures of knowing that we don't have forever? Without the limit of time, what would be discovered? Would time even be relevant? My daughter had a mortal life, and yet she got further than anybody else because of it."

Twilight's tea cup hovered by her lips. She took a sip, and then another, and then rested it gently back down on the saucer. 

"All these big questions, Luster. These big, big questions. It's simply life. The circle of life. You are born. You live. You die. And once we break the cycle... can we ever go back? Even I am not audacious enough to change the very nature of existence."

Luster sat wide-eyed, drinking in her mentor's words, absorbing thoughts and concepts like a sponge- like she did with everything. 

"Come," Twilight motioned at a page she had flipped to in the big book. "Have a look."

Peering over the Princess' shoulder, Luster frowned. "It's another picture of the Elements. But... they don't look much like their portraits." 

It was a snapshot of Twilight and her friends before she had become an alicorn. Applejack had been holding the camera, holding up in front of all their faces, her stetson blocking half of the frame. In the background, Rarity was snapping at Dash, who seemed to be flipping in the background. Behind Applejack, Fluttershy peeked over the back, long pink mane concealing most of her mane. Twilight had a look of terror on her face as Pinkie Pie seemed to jump on her her behind, a maniacal grin on her face.

"No," Twilight laughed, "they don't."

"They look... normal." Luster said, her gaze flickering back to the windows at the top of the hall.

"They were. They were completely and utterly normal in most ways. In others, of course, they were extraordinary. But do not forget, they were ponies with flaws and emotions and desires and thoughts and weaknesses and questions. They were never perfect pagans of friendship- AJ was not always honest- that would be impossible- just like Pinkie wasn't always happy."

"Hmm," Luster murmured, thinking of her own friends. The original Bearers had always seemed so... idyllic in the history books.

As if reading her mind, Twilight said "I'm sure you've read countless books or articles or had classes on them. You may know them as having this or having that. You know them for their successes. But I know them for their flaws as well. Their strengths, of course, but for their failures as well. Their lowest points as well as their high. We had no idea what we were doing. None of us did. But sometimes, you just have to trust in each other, and trust in yourself. I believe in you." 

"Thanks Princess," Luster smiled, and Twilight closed the book.

"I suppose the lesson I'm trying to teach you here, Luster, is to make the most of every opportunity that comes your way. Leave no path untrodded, no stone unturned. Push yourself to your limits, make the most of this life. Do what my daughter did, what my friends did, what countless others before them did. Discover things for yourself, and trust nobody's judgement but your own." 

"Make the most of life..." Luster murmured, thinking of Ash's face as she rejected him against her will. 

"Find out things for yourself. Teach yourself. I can be here here guide you, but I can't make you understand. That desire, the drive to know can and does come only from yourself. Experience as much h as you can. Know as much as you can."

"Princess... I have a question."

"Well, that's a surprise," Twilight smiled. "Ask away."

"It's about a guy-" 

Twilight's face lit up with a kind of youthful delight, one that would be hard to imagine on such a monumental figure. "Ooh, do tell. It's been ages since I've heard any sort of gossip. The Foreign Affairs ministers aren't very talkative, you know."

Luster chuckled. "It's about... well, what he did-"

Twilight raised her eyebrows playfully. "Did he do something wrong? Unfortunately I only have herbal tea in my study, not any bitter cups of cold revenge, but I'm sure I could-" 

"No, no, Princess, he hasn't done anything wrong," Luster chuckled nervously.

"Well? Spill then."

"He asked me on a date," Luster said, "but I said no." 

Twilight thought for a moment. "Is he a nice stallion?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, he's ever so nice. He's kind and smart- and he has the sharpest sense of humour," Luster began rambling, an odd smile on her face. 

Twilight knew that smile. She had seen it many times before, on her own children as well as countless others. She remember the first time it had been on Starfall's face, after her seventeenth birthday when young Prism Dart had (by the courtesy of some prompting by his mother) had turned up with a bunch of mildy wilted roses at their doorstep.

It was the look of a first love.

"Why did you say no then?" Twilight asked. 

"I was too busy..." Luster replied uncomfortably. "I had too much work to do." 

Twilight's face grew serious. "Luster. Never, ever put work before your relationships. I did once, a long time ago. Before I had moved to Ponyville, even."

"What happened?" 

"I never got them back. Not really." Twilight's face was sad, and earnest. "The whole experience everything thing, Luster... I'm not just speaking academically here. Work hard, love hard. I'm... you know what, don't worry about any of our reports or experiments or homework for this week. Have fun. Okay?"

"Thanks, Princess. I... thanks for being there." 

Luster smiled, and Twilight pulled her in for a side hug. "You're dismissed." 

And her student left the room with a newfound determination. Even if she only lived for another day, boy, was she was going to make the most of it. 

Twilight smiled fondly as her student rushed out of the room in a whirlwind of youthful exuberance. 

Live each day as if it were your last. Her smile faded slightly as the guilty hypocritical feeling she always had when giving that advice stole over her. 

That was hard to do when you knew the days would never stop coming.
> Nothing Is Permanent Except Change
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


'There's been an undeniable truth,
Since before we even existed;
Nothing stays the same.
Change cannot be resisted.'






"Treble, no," Petal Dusk tried to reason with the gigantic, tawny-hued pegasus, who was currently holding their most recent expedition recovery above his head in a distressingly precarious manner. 

"Treble, yes!" He replied, his voice deep as he enthusiastically waved the delicate, glass vase above his head. 

"Treble, no," Ice Spice cut in, flapping her wings to hover coaxingly beside him above the Table of Friendship. 

"Treble... maybe?" Treble's smile fell a bit, as he swung the vase out of Ice's reach. 

"Treble- no." Luster sighed, crossing her arms as she raised her eyebrows at her friend. 

"Treble, no." Treble mumbled, pouting as he handed the vase back to Ice Spice, who clutched it delicately to her chest. 

"I know you're trying to help, Treble, I really do. And we appreciate it guys, don't we?" She looked round the table at the rest of her friends, who all nodded. "But you know how sometimes you can be a bit clumsy, and I don't know about you, but I don't really fancy another run-in with the Spirits of the Loutrophorus." 

Treble, ever true to his Element, chuckled light-heartedly, brushing off easily what other, shallower ponies might taken offense at, even at Luster's kind words. "Treble still help, though."

"Of course, dear," Tilivette piped up, brushing her long waves of silky red mane over her shoulder. "In fact, you are simply the most helpful, generous pony I've ever met-" 

"Yeah, says the freakin' Element of Generosity," Ice Spice chuckled, "she can't stop herself." 

Tili scoffed, as Petal raised a quiet wingtip to her lips and smiled. 

"Well I don't think we should mess around with ancient artefacts any more," Marble Touch put in honestly, her short, white mane falling neatly behind her ears. "What are we even doing in the Hall of Spectacles anyway?" 

The six of them were standing in a long, high-ceilinged room, lined with precious, ancient monuments, manuscripts and artefacts placed delicately on stone pedestals. All sorts of boon and magical bric-a-bric generations of Elements of Harmony had collected over the centuries lay in the Hall. From the deathly-sharp longsword Heartsworn that could never miss its opponent's heart, to the legendary Book of Grey, hoofwritten by Starswirl the Bearded himself, the hall was not somewhere to casually hang out, and was closely guarded at all times. 

Even now, one of the blue-crested guards at the end of the Hall was eyeing Treble suspiciously. The forest-maned pegasus only waved happily at him. The six of them were seated at a long, rectangular table in the middle of the room, littered with books and pieces of parchment long outdated. 

"Oh, the Princess told Luster she had something to tell all of us," Petal voiced quietly, blushing as they all turned to look at her. "Right, Luster?"

"Yup," Luster nodded. "She should be here any moment now." 

"I wonder where she is, Princess Twilight is usually very punctual-" Tilivette started, before being cut off by the sound of doors opening. 

Twilight Sparkle strode through the large double doors at the entrance of the Hall, approaching the large table. 

Luster saw her friends sit up a little straighter in the presence of the Princess, and she herself corrected her posture self-consciously- not that Twilight would notice, of course. 

"Good afternoon, my little ponies," Twilight smiled at them all, and Treble waved back. 

"Good afternoon, Princess," Luster grinned back at her mentor. 

"I hope everypony is doing well," Twilight began, "and I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you all to here this afternoon. So I shall get right to it. The truth of the matter is that I have something very important that I must discuss with you all- if that's okay." 

"'Course it is, Princess," Ice Spice said, "shoot." 

"Very well." Twilight smiled, and used her telekinesis to place a fairly large, black velvet chest on the table. Luster hadn't even realised she had been carrying it. "It is something I have been meaning to do for a while now." 

They all leaned in curiously as Twilight continued. 

"As you know, four years ago, I appointed you all as the succeeding Elements of Harmony- or rather, you proved yourselves to be capable volunteers. And I've have sincerely enjoyed watching you all grow into your roles as the Elements." 

"Are we getting... fired or something?" Tili laughed nervously.

"Goodness, no," Twilight chuckled, "quite the opposite, in fact."

Using her magic, she opened the black velvet box and brought out the five Elemental necklaces, as well as the Tiara of Magic, much smaller and detailed than the one that currently rested atop the monarch's head. 

"You all know that I myself have been the Bearer of Magic since the Elements of Harmony were first resurrected," Twilight said, directing her violet-coloured irises at each one of them. They nodded, listening intently as she continued. 

"And yet, recently I have come to the realisation that perhaps I am no longer suited to the role."

"But Princess," Marble exclaimed, "you are an amazing leader!" 

"Thank you, Marble Touch," Twilight smiled, "but it was not my own talents I was referencing. There is something much more important than simply having skill and prowess when it comes to being an Element- friendship. And although I am sure we are all on pleasant terms, the strongest bond will come from the most tightly-knit group of ponies." 

They all looked at each other, slightly confused.

"Luster has often stepped in my place when the Elements have been called out to protect the freedom and welfare of Equestria. I think it is now time she took that place permanently... if, of course, she so desires."

"You... you're giving me your Element?" Luster asked, her jaw gaping. 

Twilight nodded, smiling. "It is high time I did so. You six have a connection I have not seen since... well, since my own friends and I."

"But I thought- isn't the Princess the Element of Magic?" Tilivette asked, frowning. "Isn't it supposed to be the best sorcerer? Or the one with the most knowledge?"

"No," Twilight answered. "Not necessarily. You forgot that there was a time, under Celunian rule, where the Head of State and the Consitution of Harmony were two separate things. I myself was made the Element of Magic under the guidance of Princess Celestia, from whom I still had much to learn." 

"Woah..." Luster grinned ear-to-ear, turning to face her friends.  

"So, Luster," Twilight smiled, "I suppose there is only one question I can ask you."

Luster Dawn straightened her back as Twilight hovered the necklaces in front of all her other friends respectively, and hovered the tiara- the beautiful, ancient tiara that meant so much symbolically and powerfully- right in front of her.

She recognised this ceremony. She had seen her own friends go through the ritual four year ago. 

"Luster Aspen Dawn. Do you accept the honour of being named an Element of Harmony?" 

"I do." Luster beamed. 

"Do you accept the responsibilities of Harmony?" 

"I do." 

"Do you pledge to defend Equestrian peace until your last breath?" 

"I do."

"Will you always, always see the value of Friendship, and see faith wherever you go?"

"I will." 

"Then close your eyes, and focus very hard." Twilight said, her voice fading as Luster fluttered her eyelids shut.

"I need you to concentrate, Luster. Think of a memory for me. A happy memory, one with your friends and family and the people you love."

It was Hearthwarming's Eve, and Luster was making gingerbread with her friends. The kitchen was lit with strips of golden fairy light, and smelt of candied oranges and treacle. She had flour on her nose, and her mom reached over to brush it away. Everything was sweet and warm and bright, her friends were laughing...

"Now take those feelings, those emotions. Concentrate on them. Prove to the Element that your mind is strong enough, the connections you have with your friends is strong enough." 

In the back of her eyelids, Luster saw an image of a star, burning bright and lilac against the darkness behind it. She reached out to it, but it seemed to dissipate just as she reached it, holding back on something- or holding back to something, as if it was not willing to leave its original bearer. 

She reached our again, but still the star danced just out of perception, leaving glimmering clues but never quite materialising. Sensing this, the Princess spoke again.

"Try a different memory," Twilight continued confidently, her voice calm and unfazed. "Think of a time that really resonated with you, that showed you the true power of Friendship..."

And the scene turned darker. Her friends disappeared, and it was just her in the kitchen by herself, listening to her parents argue in the hall. The counter top was lit up by the moonlight shining thinly through the windows, the shattering of rain assaulting the frosted panes, and when she could bear the yelling no longer, she open the door and fled up to her room, slamming the door shut. The rain roared as it crashed against the windowsill. And she thought that if broken dreams had a sound, that would be it. 

The next day at school, her friends knew something was wrong. And as they coaxed her into talking about it, as she spilled all of her fears and worries and sadnesses, as she told them how her life was falling apart, they rubbed her on the back and offered her tissues and murmured comforting words and told her it was all going to be alright, even when they weren't sure it was. 

But... it did turn out all right. And they were there for her every step of the way. 

The star pulsed, emanating waves of frozen-sunlight, coming closer and closer until she could no longer see anything but the burning glory of it, succumbing to the blinding light. It felt warm and rich and solid. 

Suddenly she was jolted out of her trance- she hadn't even been aware she was unconscious. She opened her eyes to see her friends peering at her anxiously, and her mentor smiling at her like... like a mother would a daughter. With a special kind of pride. 

Feeling a soft, comforting weight atop her head, she gently lifted a hoof up, feeling the intricate shape of the tiara on her head. Conjuring a mirror from thin air, Twilight held it up in front of her, so she could see the beautiful, crested golden headpiece with the Magical Star emblem centred in the middle resting behind her ears. 

"Elements of Harmony," Twilight said, and her voice reminded Luster of something ancient, stirring and powerful. 

"I present to you... the new Element of Magic."
> Nothing Gold Can Stay
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


'Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.'






Twilight smiled as she left the Hall, leaving Luster to be swarmed by her friends, laughter mingling with soft tears of joy and amazement. 

She had known it was Luster's time for a few weeks coming. But the selfish part of her, the mortal part of her- however small it may be- still clung to the Element, clung to the triumphs and safety and memories of her friends, her old life, the small comforts it brought. 

Letting it go had been like saying goodbye to an old friend. But Twilight knew she had to pass it on, has to create a new set of Elements strong enough to withstand the test of time, as she herself had done with her friends. 

And to do that, the Elements needed to belong to ponies who understood each other, who knew how to read each other, whose friendship would power the Bond of Harmony itself. 

She had made the right choice. She had been sure of it. 

The Element had glimmered slightly as it left her, and she felt it twinkle, magic dwindling in her horn and her heart and her wings for a few moments longer before it turned wholly towards Luster and embodied a new soul. And even still, a small, tiny, miniscule part of it clung to her still, a whisper in the darkest corner of her heart, as if it too was not willing to part. As if a small part of itself has now too become a part of the Princess. 

It was a small comfort. A reminder of what had been, and the great things to come. She had hope for these new Elements. They had a bond so unlike any of the others. 

She was pushing open the door to the study when a pegasus guard rushed in, flanked by two others, wings quivering and voices breathless as if they had flown a great distance with swift urgency. 

"Princess," the middle one said, hurriedly, and Twilight recognised him- recognised the commanding hazel eyes and the polished golden medal that crested his chest. 

"Captain Swift Shield," Twilight tilted her head in question, "whatever is the matter?"

"It's the Ambassador, milady- it was a freak accident, a rogue wind machine from one of the new apartments they're building- but he's injured, got hurt flying back from-" 

Twilight interrupted him, her tone deathly quiet, steely with unnerving calm. "Take me to him." 





The streets of Canterlot turned into a blur as Twilight flew, flew faster than she ever had in her life, pumping her wings to keep up with the guards, for although she was a divine alicorn, the Royal Aerial Guards that guarded the Palace in Canterlot were some of the fiercest and swiftest fliers in the skies. 

Why they didn't just teleport there, Twilight didn't know, but in their hurry the guards has forgotten to deign exactly where the accident had occurred. 

Where Spike had gotten hurt. 

Her heart crumpled slightly, before she pushed on harder. She couldn't lose him. Not her longest friend. 

Ponies on the street turned their heads upwards and marvelled, some of them calling out to her, but while she would usually stop and offer a wave, there was no time that could be wasted. 

She smelt the smoke before she could see it. It rose in thick, opalescent fumes, bellowing into the sky, and smelt of crisp, cold air tinted with burning and iron. 

"Everybody, MOVE," Twilight bellowed, raising her voice in a way she had never really had to before. 

The paramedics and police ponies and firefighters shuffled hurriedly out of the way, parting like the Red Sea in front of their Divine Princess. 

She could see him then, her vision tunneled as if he were the only thing in the world. She teleported to his side instantly, for they did not have even the seconds it would take her to fly over to him. 

One of his wings was completely torn, shredding so horribly that Twilight knew that even if the most skilled alchemists in Equestria would have a hard time concocting a remedy to heal it. His entire left half of his body was crumpled and splayed at an awkward angle, a bone sticking out so horribly from his leg that it was all Twilight could do not to retch, there are then. 

And the blood. Oh, Gods, the blood. 

It was everywhere, painted across the ruined, burning wind machine that lay in sharp, burnt metal debris, a great turbine still slowly rotating. Lost blood that had escaped the paramedics' bandages spilled out onto the cobblestones, bleeding through the grout tracks as if the earth itself wounded, like water on a fiery sunrise.

Spike's eyes were shut, his scales bruised and blackened to a rusty darkness with soot and petrol and blood. He was holding onto life, clinging onto it with sheer force of will. 

Throwing out her magic, she heard ponies around her gasp lightly as they felt the shock wave of only a small segment of her full divine magic, glowing purple and golden and blue as it wrapped itself around Spike. 

Heal him, she willed it- willed herself. Heal him, move his blood, knit his flesh, breath air into his lungs. 

She would pull him back from the brink of death. She would. She would. This was not how it was going to end. Over a century's worth of life and laughter and friendship and joy was not going to end like this, in a freak accident. 

Twilight felt the world glow white. She may have been a powerful alicorn, but she was no match for the unyielding natural forces of death, and life, and rebirth. She could not change time. 

But she would save this one thing. She had to. 

Twilight felt something thrumming then, against her magic. A heartbeat- then another, and another. Hope in the pain. 

She continued to pour her magic into Spike, and as the connection between them grew, his heartbeat pattered with increasing steadiness. 

His eyes flickered open, and their gazes locked, and the broken creature on the floor was suddenly Spike again, eyes pitiful and sympathetic and anguished and... and oddly calm. 





"Can I ask you a question, Twi?" Spike had asked as the Princess and her closest companion overlooked the city of Canterlot one evening.

"Shoot," Twilight had replied, crossing her forelegs over the railing of the balcony as she watched the sun melt away over the horizon. 

"Who do you think will come after you?" He asked, picking casually at a nail. "I know it's a bit of a morbid thought, but like, have you ever thought about it? I mean, Celestia and Luna were immortal, nobody thought they would ever die. And yet, they are gone. Do you ever think that will happen to you?"

Twilight pondered on the question for a little while.

"You know, I had a similar conversation with Star once," she replied, voice thick with the memory of her daughter. "I told her that perhaps one day, when I exist only in legend, I will still live on in the friendships of ponies all across Equestria, just as Cadence lives in eros, or Celestia is imbued within day's majestic glory, and Luna lies omnipresent, within the night's cool beauty." 

"And who will come after you have Ascended?" 

Twilight shrugged. "Who knows. Perhaps it will be Luster. I have yet to crown her Element of Magic, but I have no doubt in her faith. Or perhaps it will be sweet Flurry Heart, who could unite both Empires. Perhaps it will be someone else entirely. It does not matter to me, as long as they are worthy." 

"Hmm." Spike hummed, grinning at Twilight in a familiar way. "I'm glad you're always there to answer my questions, Twi."

"Always, Spike. Forever and always." 





The flashback seemed to have triggered another level of her magic, and light and warmth and searing vitality flooded down her entire body and tingled in her hooves. 

Spike's heart was beating wildly now, erratically, and Twilight knew she had to let go of her magic before his mortal body was overwhelmed. For he was mortal, despite his unfathomable life span.

She let go of the connection, her healing magic reserve nearly drained from bringing someone back from the brink of death. 

For a moment, it was the most intense relief she had ever felt, as Spike smiled sadly at her.

But something was wrong. 

Some was very, very wrong.

She could not feel his heartbeat anymore. 

She couldn't feel anything from him anymore.

She was so stupid- he had been relying on the source of magic to survive. And she had just cut it off, for she knew it would have killed them both if she had held on a moment longer.

She was so- so foolish. Who was she to stop death? Perhaps yes, a divine alicorn might have been able to stopper it, but she was only young, compared to the other Greats, and unpractised in the art of revival. She felt it coming now, swift and hungry and impeding, unswerving. She tried to spark her magic, but there was nothing she could do as she watched the light fade slowly out his eyes.

She should have said something. Should have thought tender and reflective and pensive thoughts, should have honoured him and spoke to him as Soarin did to Dash. 

But she just watched, in absolute and utter shock. 

And she had just- she hadn't been able to- 

There was darkness, then, that exploded from her cracked heart. She was grateful for its unyielding numbness. It seemed to swallow her whole, lifting her above reality, taking her away from the ailments of pathetic mortal plagues. 

Spike. Spike. Spike, she wanted to call out.

But he only let out the smallest breath of air, as if he were turning over in sleep. 

Then he was still.
> The End Of the World
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The end of the world
Doesn’t happen with a thousand screams.

Or the howling of sirens, a harrowing melody.
Or the the crepuscular stillness of the air.
Or the scent of cleansing alcohol, heady and viscous and bitter.
Or the roar of passing vehicles.
Or feeling of burning limbs.
Or the flames kissing a face, tender, esurient.
Or the crashing and scratching of concrete debris.
Or the smoke that licks the blood-red sky.
Or even the stench of a curious scarlet ichor, that tastes of brine and iron-

It ends with a gasp 
A small sound
A meek sound 
A fairy-light exhale of breath.

The fluttering of an eyelash as it relaxes,
As the pretty claret-coloured ash is blown gently away  
Up-
Up-
Up into the air, like grains of sand falling onto a beach
Like drops of angel’s blood drifting homebound
Lost to the brilliant red of the sky.  

And then...
Then nothing.
Nothing.

Nothing 

but 

an 

awful 





silence.
> And It Begins Anew
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


'Light, then dark,
Then light again,
Then darkness comes,
Then once again,
The light returns,
Giving way to dark,
Then light,
Then dark once more,
Light and dark and light again-

Ticking tocking,
On and on,
The clock ticks on,
And ticks some more,
Another tick,
Another tock,
Then tick then tock,
Through light and dark-

Always changing,
Always pulling,
Towards the future,
Which becomes the past,
While being present,
For just a moment,
The future present past becomes-

Light, then dark,
Then light again,
Then darkness comes,
Then once again,
The light returns,
Giving way to dark,
Then light,
Then dark once more,
Light and dark and light again.'






"All of you who stand in front of this altar are different," Luster Dawn's voice was solemn, "have different colours, speak different languages, some have wings or claws. But we all have something in common. Spike was the most light-hearted, sweet, friendly, accepting creature I have ever had the privilege of meeting. We gather here on this day to bid him, too soon, farewell."

Twilight vaguely noticed the sharp spears of grief that were carefully concealed through her student's voice as she performed her eulogy. 

Things had been a blur. 

She hadn't actually been entirely sure how she had gotten here.

She just remembered weeping on the road for hours, her magic lashing out at any sympathetic handmaiden who dared to try comfort her. Her personal spell-masters had cast a subtle Avertion Jinx, so that ponies would not lay eyes on the scene of the Princess mourning. 

She remembered being coaxed off the road, back into the Palace, once the sky had bled into darkness and the stars peeked out, unfairly bright. 

Spike would never get to see the stars again.

She remembered something soft, and warm. Her bed? She remembered soothing mutterings and murmurings from her mares-in-waiting, someone pressing a warm, wet cloth to her cheeks and forehead. It felt like her mother kissing her goodnight, as if she were a little foal again. Her mother was gone, though. Everyone was. 

She remembered the door opening and closing, she remembered somepony coming in, with a hesitant "Princess?", before being ushered out again. 

She remembered someone trying to feed her a soupy broth. She remembered refusing. 

It was like patches of light and dark, moments of shining clarity before she plunged back into the confusion and nightmares.

She did not want, nor need, to recall the dreams.

She remembered being woken for daybreak. The light had strung through the curtains. She did not like the sun anymore.

She remembers being pulled at, gently tugged, someone running a brush tenderly through her hair, gold plates being placed on her feet, something heavy and cold rested onto her head. 

She was numb. 

Luster's voice sang out, shaking her out of the cloud of confusion, if only for a minute.

No black, Luster had insisted. Nopony was to wear black. You were to wear bright, colourful, celebratory tones, worthy of the Ambassador of Friendship. 

Noblestallions and mares, Lords, Counts, rulers of foreign empires, musicians, artists, friends, family, staff members, with whom Spike had always treated as an equal. 

Everyone who wished to be there was there, celebrating thing they had in common. 

The one person who ought to have been there, but wasn't. 

The one person who would never stand by her side again. The one person who always had. 

His funeral was a blur.

At one point, Luster seemed to address her, and eyes flickered towards her expectantly, waiting for her to say something.

"Princess Twilight has known Spike for longer than anyone else in this room. They say they learnt together."

Twilight took that as her cue.

"Um, yes," she coughed, feeling desperately unable to get the air she needed in her lungs to speak. "Spike was... he was..." 

The words failed her. She willed them to come, tried to shape her lips around them, but her throat was hollow, and her chest empty. The ponies' gazes were suffocating-

"He was a constant in my aunt's life," a sweet voice rescued her. Twilight felt herself being pulled down gently, back into her seat, as the mare next to her stood. 

Her lovely niece, whom she had not even realised she was seated next to in her confusion. 

Flurry Heart's speech, pretty and clear, like bells, enraptured the audience. "Spike meant everything to her. To us. He was there when the Princess married Captain Flash. He was there for the birth of their children. He was there for their deaths. Now it is his, and we do not know how to take it. All we can say is that the amount she misses him by is immeasurable. It cannot be put into words. But let it be known that as long as there is love, and memory, he will live on, in our thoughts. He will not be forgotten."





Afterwards, Flurry Heart found her on the balcony overlooking Canterlot. The city seemed less spectacular now. What was a place, without the people you know within it?

Her niece said nothing, only came and rested her head on Twilight's shoulder. Some part of the monarch was grateful for her niece's warmth. 

"I miss him," was the only thing Twilight could think to say. 

Flurry Heart nodded. "It has only been two days, but I do as well. I grew up around him. I know not a world without him." 

Twilight could feel the Crystal Princess' tears, hot and wet, on her shoulder. 

"I loved him," Twilight whispered, "he was my dearest friend. My longest companion. And now he is gone. And I could not save him. I couldn't-" 

"Hush, dear Twilight," Flurry Heart lifted her head and raised Twilight's chin gently to meet her gaze. The Princess of Love really was beautiful, with her defined cheekbones and curling mane and soft lips, so like Cadence that Twilight's eyes seemed to trick her for a moment. 

"Tell me... what is grief, if not love, persisting?" Flurry Heart smiled sadly, her eyes a stunning, heartbreakingly crystal blue. Shining's eyes, Twilight thought, a piece of her brother left to be treasured forever. 

"Grief," Flurry continued, "is all the love with nowhere to go. It gathers in the hollows of your chest, and the corners of your eyes where it falls out as tears, and the painful lump in your throat. You have too much love, for Spike, for Flash and Cori, and Star and Tia. Sometimes we must simply let it go. Let everything go." 

The Lady of Love spoke nothing but the truth. 

"I do not think I have ever really come to terms with it," Twilight murmured, after a while. "The fact that I won't die. I have acknowledged it, yes. I have realised my struggle with it. I did a long time ago. But I don't think I will ever be alright with it."

"Oh, Auntie," Flurry Heart exhaled, tucking her head into Twilight's shoulder. "Perhaps that is enough. You do not need to be alright with it. You do not need to feel immune to feeling. You simply must live with it." 

Twilight said nothing, but even so, Flurry wrapped a warm wing around her aunt, even though Twilight was a least a foot taller than the younger alicorn. 

The action reminded Twilight of Cadence doing the same thing to her aunt, Twilight's beloved teacher, whom as well bore the crown that rested upon Twilight's head. 

"Who will come after me," Twilight sighed. "That is what he asked me. I still have yet to answer him." 

"Perhaps your student, Luster Dawn? She led the service this afternoon, and is quite eloquent. She would grow into the role nicely." There was a sweetness and admiration in her niece's tone that made Twilight flicker her gaze momentarily to the other Princess.

"Hmm," was all Twilight said, "yet I suppose she has yet to Ascend to divinity." 

"Who says that a Princess has to be an alicorn?" Flurry Heart raised an eyebrow. "Dear Aunt, it is the twentieth century. I fear your old, haggard mind is still trapped in ye olden days."

Twilight chuckled, smiling for what felt like the first time in days. "You are quite right, Flurry. Perhaps what I meant is... I feel as perhaps she is not yet fully ready to take the crown. She has important lessons to learn yet, and even after, there still will be more to learn." 

Flurry Heart's face contorted into a frown. "Aunt Twilight... Pardon me, but I hope I do not anticipate your abdication? Yes, the line of succession is something to contemplate, but we should not consider this reality so soon?"

"Of course, Flurry," Twilight stroked her niece's mane reassuringly. "You are young yet. I have more to teach you on running an Empire. I have no intention of passing on the rulership so soon." 

"I am relieved to hear so," Flurry's shoulders sagged a little.  

"Perhaps, one day, it will be you, Flurry Heart. Perhaps you will be the one to unite two Empires, at last. Or it could be Luster. Yes?"  

"Perhaps," Flurry shrugged. "Perhaps it will be both of us, together. Or someone else entirely." 

"That it what I told Spike." Twilight sighed ruefully. 

"Come, Auntie," Flurry Heart led Twilight gently away from the balcony's edge. "Let us greet your people. Show them that their leader is strong enough to brave this loss. I, for one, know you are." 

And they descended the steps, together. 





Luster rested her forehead across the cool glass window and stared up at the moon, the black sky around it freckled with blue stars. 

It had been a hard day. 

She was nowhere near as close with Spike as Twilight was, but over three years as being Twilight's pupil had shown her he was kind, faithful, loyal and deceivingly perceptive. 

Nobody had been able to coax Twilight out of her Chambers to conduct the ceremony, or to even plan the funeral service. She understood, Luster thought. She couldn't imagine what she would do if she lost her dearest friend in an awful way like that.

So, the Palace officials turned to her, as Element of Magic. She had been equal parts honoured and apprehensive. Surely there were better, more experienced people to conduct the ceremony, she asked. They shook their heads. Twilight had been their princess long enough that they knew she would have nobody who did not know Spike personally. 

It had been perhaps the most terrifying moment of her life, standing up in front of all those eyes and judging stares. But she had put those thoughts aside, and focused on who the attention was on. 

She hoped Spike would've appreciated her sermon. 

Still, she had felt the collective sigh of relief as Twilight stepped back into the room, shadowed by the sweet Flurry Heart, who seemed ready to intervene if her aunt was overwhelmed. The Love Princess was as beautiful as all the rumours had said, not to mention gracious and well spoken. Perhaps one day they could get to know one another better. 

She had better rejoin the gathering. She could still hear chatter coming from downstairs, some jovial, some sombre. 

But she leant her head against the window and thought, instead. 

She thought of her past. She thought of her friends. She thought of her future. 

She looked up at the stars, until her eyes grew dizzy and blood rushed to her head, as if the Heavens could perhaps spill an inkling of what the Fates had in store for her. Of why Spike was taken from them so soon.

It was cliché, but Luster knew life was unpredictable. She did not know if she would ever become an alicorn like the Princesses. She did not know if she would ever live up to the expectations her mentor held for her. She would go and comfort Twilight later the best she could. She would try her best, as she always had. As she always would.

So no, Luster Dawn did not know what the future held in store for her, what curveballs and tragedies and joys and triumphs and failures that lay in wait. 

But she knew that she would face them head on, and enjoy every last second of the time she had left on this earth, because Spike had not known he would be gone so quickly. He taught her, even in death. 

"Luctor et emergo," Twilight had said to her once, as they studied neoclassical philosophy. "Atrox melior dulcissima, veritas mendaciis." 

Struggle and emerge. The bitter truth is always better than the sweetest lies.





In the darkness, two wings took shape. They were golden, a dawn-hued shade of deepest pink, and rippled softly in the wind. They formed on the back of a tall unicorn mare, who's cutie mark- a rising sun rippling sunlight over a plane- burned brightly like all the suns in the sky. The mare's silhouette was golden and tawny and glowing, half-corporeal, half-insubstantial as the mortal body was imbued with a divinely power, and the nature of the magic shifted as mortal magic became immortal. 

Her work was complete.

Some part of Twilight smiled and faded as her breath whispered away beneath her. She could hear the panicked calls and fretting of her attendants, but the bed was soft and warm, and the picture behind her eyelids was beautiful. 

She knew she was fading, disappearing into her most divinely form. She would continue to exist, but not in the physical realm, but rather in every laugh friends shared, every secret passed between a strong bond. She couldn't wait to see her family again.

Friendship closed her eyes, and almost as if she were drifting to sleep, disappeared.