When tragedy strikes, the hearts of the beloved are shattered. Tears are shed in mourning of the fallen. But, as time does its part, most ponies begin to move on, as the memory of a lost friend becomes but a blur in the vast, continuous timeline that is life. Most ponies move on with the help and support of their friends. But what happens when the same friends that help a pony make it through the tragedy of losing a friend... a partner... vanish? That pony remains caught in an unbreakable cycle. Scared. Sad.
The sun is out and shining, several rays of golden sunlight beaming upon my face. The air smells of gentle lavender and cotton, an easy breeze wafting the sweet, light air into my nose. All around, I am greeted by the carefree chirp of birds, the warm glow of the sun above, and the crisp whistle of blades of grass blowing back and forth.
Cool flames of wind lick past our ears and manes as we run together in the morning blaze, eyelids closed, mouths turned up in smiles, souls content with the company of the other.
Just the two of us, together.
I crack my eyes open for a moment, and look to my side, specifically my left. On my left, a soft stream stretches in both directions parallel to me, flowing the same direction we are moving. With the sun emitting its shine upon the land in a radiant blanket, the water sparkles with warmth from the heated riverbed beneath its surface. A serene slush is audible as the clear, blue liquid trickles down the stream, slowly and unhurriedly. The stream bends westward as we continue our brisk graze and, after gradually swerving quite distant from us, empties into a large, calm pool.
As we pass the far-off pond, my eyes still focused on my left side, I glance outwards and upwards to the horizon. Thin, wavy puffs of white speckle the skyline, their edges blending into the surrounding baby blue sky. Their shadows cover the earth before us, seemingly protecting it from harm.
Low above the ground, insects buzz, butterflies flap their wings against the air, and small creatures rustle cautiously through the morning dew. Squirrels sit perched in trees, squeaking among one another and scurrying about the leafy branches.
We continue galloping forward.
Onward we run, past vegetation and wildlife, over hills and under trees, never stopping, not even for a brief moment. Even though we travel a great distance at great speed, our breathing remains controlled and calm. Neither of us feel any physical exertion as we canter speedily across the dirt; rather, our bodies are relaxed, our minds clear and focusing on each other.
We arrive at a green incline, and begin our ascent towards the pinnacle. The air rushes past our bodies as we rise to the top, climbing higher, higher, higher...
At last, we arrive at the peak.
At our altitude, the wind is slightly stronger than the wind of the ground. Our manes blow past our ears and in front of our faces as we turn away from the breeze.
Once turned around, we gaze together upon the expansive field over which we had just dashed across. I can see the pond, a large distance away, glimmering in waves as it reflects the sun's light.
The sights and sounds of this morning's atmosphere are magnificent and breathtaking.
But the true beauty of this day, however, is not found in its sights of pleasure or elegance, nor is it found in the calming, soothing sounds it possesses.
Rather, it is found beside me.
Not to my left side, but to my right.
The true beauty of this morning is the mare standing with me, at this very moment.
The love of my life.
My entire world.
I look over to her, a truly content smile painted on my face. Her breezy spectral mane floats in the wind, its strands of rainbow flicking about gently. When she notices my stare, she returns the gaze, and smiles back. Words need not be spoken, for our minds are in total concinnity. My eyes are fixed on hers, two gorgeous, round ovals of bright and hopeful magenta.
As I stare into her heart, the feeling in my own cannot be described with words.
If I were to say that I feel true happiness, that nothing in the world could make me more complete, that I feel like I belong nowhere except right here, next to the side of this absolutely 'perfect in every way' mare, even that description would be a major understatement.
Finally, she breaks the silence with her clear, daring voice.
"Let's go," she says softly with an angelic grin.
Her grin widens, she spreads her wings, and jets herself into the early sky with the thrust of her hind legs. I chuckle, watch her for a moment as her beautiful form soars through the morning majesty, and then follow suit. My own violet wings spring out to my sides and I hop off the peak of the hill. The air whisks past in a light whistle as I hurry to catch up to her.
If the ground was magnificent, then the morning sky is even more lovely. The sun graciously warms my back as I flap my wings and cut through the air. A mockingbird flies up next to me, inspects me for a moment, and flies back downwards towards a tree, presumably to nurture her young.
A good length away, I notice my love angle upwards higher into the sky. I follow her, and allow my wings to curve me up closer to the sun.
As my altitude increases, I soon find myself immersed in a kingdom of white, carefree clouds. Here, no insects stir, and few birds soar. For the most part, it's only me, the clouds...
She suddenly pops out from behind a snowy and fluffy cloud with a fierce expression on her face, and upon seeing me recoil in surprised fear, she bursts out laughing at her successful attempt in startling me. She flies over to me, grabs me into a hugging embrace, and pecks a kiss on my cheek.
...and her.
I giggle a bit, thinking her little prank both cute and funny. Her energetic and playful personality is the very reason I love her so much; even if it may be slightly overdone at times, I know she can't help but mess around with me a bit- and to be honest, I find it kind of adorable. In truth, the fact that she truly acts herself around me tells me that she really does accept me as her partner and soul mate. The very thought makes my heart flutter as she holds me in her hooves.
She starts to speak with her young voice, in a calm and soothing tone.
"Do you know just how much I love you?"
My heart nearly flies out of my chest. Up close, cradled right in her arms, her features are beautified with extreme detail. Her cerulean cheeks are blushed a barely visible shade of pink, her lips turned upward in a passive smile. I once again feel captivated by those resplendent magenta eyes of hers; just staring into them allows me to be captured in her protective shield of love. Her dark eyebrows nonchalantly lay atop her eyes as she gazes at me seductively and sweetly.
"Of course I do," I reply.
"Good. As long as I know that you know that, I'll be okay until you come here with me for good," she says.
For a moment my thoughts pause as I contemplate the sentence that just came from her lips. Until you come here with me for good? What does she mean? Trying not to look surprised for yet the second time this day, I push the concern off to the side for the time being.
She begins to speak once again.
"Twilight. I want you to know that for all the time we've been together, my feelings towards have not changed, ever. You're always going to be my best my friend, and my mare. You have no idea how proud it makes me to be with somepony as perfect as you. In all of the beginning of my life, I always wanted somepony to be my partner, somepony to pull through difficult times with. Somepony to call my own. Twilight, that feeling fills my heart with joy every single darn time I look at you. Thank you for gifting me with that pleasure."
Wow, is she reading the book of my heart or something? Because, to be blunt, I reverberate the exact same feelings to her. For a mare of such energetic and active zeal, the words which she just spoke were more expressive than anything I have ever heard before.
My expression must look completely dumbfounded, for she snickers a bit after I fail to answer within a few seconds. Embarrassed, my cheeks flood with red and I quickly scramble for something to say.
"Er... I'm sorry, Rainbow, I just... I forget sometimes that even though you're so bold, you're also a mare of many words..."
Her own cheeks turn red similar to my own, she scratches the back of her neck with one of her hooves, and says, "Ha, I know, I kind of surprise myself a bit sometimes as well...heh..."
I sense in her expression that she worries what she just said scared me; however, to assuage her fears and show that my feelings for her are exactly the same, I slowly shut my eyelids over my eyes and lean inwards to her.
She replies by doing the same thing.
Soon, I can feel her breath as we are but a small space away.
Finally, our lips meet and we share a long kiss. Her tongue enters my mouth, but rather than moving around greedily, it meets with mine and simply connects with it. Some of her mane blows into my face as we share our moment together.
At last she draws her tongue and moves ever so slowly away from my face, still blushing as much as she originally was. Though, I can now rest assured that she knows that I feel, in every single aspect, the same emotions of love towards her as she does to me. I kind of have a feeling that she truly knew that from the beginning, however.
However, this time, her eyes contain a tinge of melancholy; why this is remains a mystery to me. Suddenly, a few tears begin to well in her eyes as she continues to cradle me like a little filly in her arms. She closes her eyes and inhales deeply, as if to attempt to handle some hidden emotional pain. My mind races, desperately trying to figure out what is upsetting her.
At last she says, "Come on, Twilight. Let's go for one more flight."
"Okay, Rainbow," I reply.
I hop out of her hooves and spread my wings back open.
Her eyes still closed and a seemingly bittersweet smile on her face, she begins to fly upwards towards the sun. I follow her and soar up straight towards that big ball of Celestia's fire hanging in the mid morning air.
At first, I have no trouble in trailing but a few feet behind her as our wings carry us higher and higher. However, after a few seconds, I notice she begins to gain some distance away from me.
"Rainbow, wait for me!" I cry out.
But for some odd reason, she cannot hear me. The distance between us only lengthens, and my shouts increase in tension and volume.
"Rainbow? Rainbow Dash! Rainbow!"
I can now no longer see her elegant form gliding through the sky, and the sun's light now becomes unbearably bright as I continue towards it. In fact, it begins to grow downright painful.
The pain lies mostly in my back. As the pain climbs from my back into my wings, I can feel them disintegrating to dust. I shout in pain, sobbing in agony from the sun and the internal pain of being so unfairly ripped away from the mare I so love.
Finally, the wings on my back are no more.
I begin to fall, tears rushing down my face as I scream.
I descend faster, faster, faster yet, my face wet and body shaking.
I look downwards and see the ground coming closer to me at an alarming rate.
I shut my eyes tight and brace for what is to come.
Falling.
----
I awake in my bed in a cold sweat and sit up, stuck in an uncontrollable fit of sobbing and heavy breaths.
A few rays of sun shine through the window and blind my eyes, and my bedroom begins to materialize around me. As I begin to wake and become conscious of my surroundings, I realize.
Another false illusion.
Another tantalizing dream that seemed so real but now, as I sit here under my covers, alone and depressed, betrayed me and teased me with an illusion of the one mare I care about most.
The one mare that means the world to me.
The mare that is no longer here for me to care for and love.
And the mare that is no longer here to care for and love me.
I lay my head back down and sulk in tears for a few moments more, my body refusing to get up.
Finally, I somehow muster the strength to pull myself out of bed. The floorboards creek when my hooves touch them, and my bones crack as I stretch. While trying to steady myself on all fours, I hear a loud pop, followed by intense pain in my back. I wail and sink to the ground as the unforgiving agony immobilizes my further movement.
For a moment, as I lay there on the floor, I simply think. I think about the times when getting up in the mornings was easy and arguably the best part of the day. Now it remains the most strenuous and painful task regarding the start of my mornings.
I attempt to slam my spine into its correct position with my wrinkly and weak hooves. At first, I succeed only in furthering the torture as my striking misses its target and irritates my back. My body screams in protest as I feel thousands of nerves yell out in pain and misery. At last, with one final swing at my hind, I hear my spine crick back into place, and the pain begins to subside.
I wipe a few tears from under my eyes and sniffle, and slowly manage to stand back up beside my bed. Pulling the covers up over my bed to make it, I glance out the window that shone the light that had so suddenly awoken me from my slumber. Through all that has changed and been made different, Celestia's sun has not. Each and every morning, as I feel myself drifting farther and farther away from what I might call my "old self," the sun remains bright and orange, ever shining and relentless. I always try act like that sun; I try to continue to burn onward with perseverance and spirit, but it seems harder to do as time progresses.
Especially without something, or rather, somepony, to burn onward for.
After staring for a few moments in a sleepy headed daze, caught by the mesmerizing glow of sunshine in my eyes, my attention returns from the sunlit morning sky back to my bed. I pull the blanket over the bottom covers, which have already been tightly placed over the mattress with its edges neatly tucked under the sides of the bed. I grab my pillows, fluff them to decency, and lay them at the top of the bed.
I slowly begin to lumber over to my mirror to tidy myself before heading downstairs; my unfortunate predicament I experienced this morning has left me feeling like a mess.
As I get closer and closer to the mirror, my old eyes begin to allow me to see the reflection that I fear the most every single time I look into it.
The glass reflects all of my aged details with utter precision. My once bright violet mane has darkened to a dull and somber blue; the once candy colored strip of pink in the center of my mane has faded to gray. My forehead is covered in wrinkles, and the skin beneath my eyes sag with crinkles and ripples of stress and pain. Even my very coat, originally a beautiful shade of lavender, has succumbed to the effects of old age and withered to a deathly light purple. My horn has also been overcast with the same pale shade of violet as my coat; however, it still retains its distinctive cone shape.
And then I notice my eyes.
These are unaffected; somehow, through all of the events that have come and passed, through the unavoidable factor of age, my eyes remain their original tone of amethyst. Of course, the powerful and energetic spark that once shone in them has been battered and dimmed over the years, but they remain otherwise immune to the effects of growing old which my body has been so harshly experiencing recently.
I break my stare with the mirror at last, filled with the painful thoughts of times when the skin on my face never drooped and my horn actually could harness the power of the arcane arts. The thought of such lack of vigor and energy fills me with sweet memories of the ponies I cared about most, my friends...
...In fact, it reminds me of the one pony that had the most energy and life out of the whole bunch of us.
I can still visualize her in my mind if I think about her; her pink breezy mane and coat, her optimistic smile, her loving personality, and her bright blue eyes, filled with such compassionate joy. She must have enjoyed life the most out of us six. She loved life endlessly, to the point where it became extremely difficult in her final years for her to finally let go and accept that one day, life ends even for the most spirited of ponies...
I shake my head of the thoughts of the pink party pony. It's too difficult to recall the happy times we shared with her, at least without triggering the memories of any sad times in the process. In any case, I'm not looking to start my day with depressing thought processes like these. If I dwell on what age has taken away from me, I'll hardly stand a chance in lasting against what I have planned to do today.
I have to be strong today for when I make the visit today.
I canter over to my wardrobe, throw a warm sweater over my head, place my glasses over my eyes, and begin my way downstairs.
I slowly make my descent down the staircase, cautious not to trip and fall. Even with my glasses, my eyes still fail me in creating images of true detail. As a result, I keep my vision focused directly on my hooves as they each make contact with the squeaky wooden floorboards, being very careful not to create another accident like the previous one this morning. At last, after what seem like a miracle of effort, I arrive at the bottom floor.
The library has aged with me and has only become less runic than I. Its once new books are now old and outdated, and the bindings on the cover of the books have faded as to make some of the titles on the binding itself illegible. No longer able to use my magic to levitate them and my body to fragile to physically move them, many books remain unsorted and stacked askew.
This is something that truly picks at nerves in my body. As disorganization is a pet peeve of mine, being able to do quite literally nothing to fix it has pushed my sanity to its limits.
A teasing and cruel thought always follows; I've got it, I'll just call Spike to lend a hand! He'll be able to help me sort these books out! But while my heart desires to call out for Spike's assistance, my mind knows there will be no answer.
I shake my thoughts from Spike, desperately trying to avoid having an emotional breakdown. I can't even remember how many years it's been since he left. Forcing my mind to change the subject, I walk over to one of the old books, pull out a crown with a familiar looking pink star on top, and place it in my saddlebag. I decide to skip breakfast altogether, but I otherwise have all that I need for the day. I push open my front door, exit my library, and begin my journey to my destination.
As I walk the streets of Ponyville, I sigh to myself. Though many ponies still reside here, the town is not as full of life as it once was. Few remember at all that this was the town that housed the bearers of the Elements of Harmony most of their lives, save Rainbow Dash, who lived in Cloudsdale. Though I know it's not right, I can't help but avoid going into town as often as possible, for many objects and landmarks serve as painful reminders of my friends that are no longer.
Continuing forward, I pass by Sugarcube Corner. Mr. and Mrs. Cake passed the bakery down to their children, Pound Cake and Pumpkin Cake, before they passed. They are in their mid sixties now. I cringe to myself as once again my mind is flooded with mournful thoughts of my lost pink friend. I remember how much she loved to cook up all kinds of sweets. As the sweet aroma of baked goods fill my nostrils, bittersweet memories of the pony are brought to mind.
I trudge onward and pass Sweet Apple Acres. Ah, Applejack. The one who you'd have thought was so physically in-shape that she would never move on one day. The farm is now run by Applebloom, as Big Macintosh, AJ, and Granny Smith are no longer there to manage it themselves. I credit her for taking on the responsibilities of an entire farm all by herself; Applebloom has only her two children, who now live in Manehatten and Fillydelphia and only visit once a year for the Apple Family reunion. The barn is still to this day well kept and spruced often. This comes as no surprise, because, after all, Applebloom has such a profound talent in renovation and construction. She has a cutie mark to prove it. Still, even while knowing the farm and fields are in good hands, it pains me to no longer be able to hear the upbeat southern slur of my best friend who had run Sweet Apple Acres since I knew her.
Farther down the road and off to the distance, I can see the clearing to the Everfree Forest. Its trees stand as tall large as they were when I first arrived here. To the side of the clearing rests what used to be Fluttershy's cottage. I remember the time when I first met her, when she used her sweet and tender voice to make beautiful music with songbirds. I long to hear those peaceful tunes again.
Before she left the world, Fluttershy requested her cottage be used as a shelter for lost or hurt animals found in Ponyville. Many of the residents were ecstatic about it at first, but now only one mare, a friend of one of Fluttershy's relatives, takes care of the place and the few animals that remain in its custody. I do not know her personally, but I've heard she's at least decently suited for the job.
Walking for a few minutes more, I arrive at last at the Carousel Boutique. Rarity's younger sister, Sweetie Belle, took over the boutique after her career as a singer. By the time Rarity passed away, Sweetie's musical career was over anyway, so she took it upon herself to not let the place rot and whither away. However, Sweetie had and still has no talent with clothing and designing. As a result, she decided to turn it into a floral shop. She now specializes in and distributes several types of flowers.
But I have my eyes set upon a certain bouquet of roses.
I enter the small shop, and take in the sweet floral scent of Marigolds, Lilacs, Tulips, and several other floral delicacies. The bell hanging on the door rings, and Sweetie Belle, standing over the counter, greets me.
"Oh, Twilight! How are you? I haven't seen you in a while now!"
She comes out from around the counter and embraces me and a hug of proportions that I have not felt in what seems like ages. She has aged as well; her face contains wrinkles almost similar to mine, and her mane is now straight and wispy instead of fluffed in the style which she wore her mane in as a filly.
"Oh dear, I've been alright lately, how about you?" I say.
Wow. In all honesty hearing my raspy old voice spooks me slightly. I haven't heard it in quite a while, as I rarely even visit or talk to anypony anymore.
"Not too bad, I guess. Things at the shop have been going well as of lately. I have your special roses that you ordered."
My ears perk up at this. For the first time in a while, I feel a childish smile of excitement creep onto my face. I start again.
"Oh, how wonderful, Sweetie. Be a dear and fetch them for me now, please?"
"Of course, Twilight."
As she retreats into a back room behind some curtains to fetch my flowers, I'm left to my own observant devices. I look around the inside of the boutique a bit. The interior is no longer strung with its old decor of fashion materials, manikins, and dresses. It now contains several different plants and flowers hanging on shelves and resting on the floor, flowers of varying color and scent.
The panes of the window have been painted an earthly red, and the floor has been redone from Rarity's previous carpet floor with a marble tile ground. At last Sweetie returns with seven roses bunched into a neat paper wrapping at the base.
"Here you are, Twilight. Magically altered, just as you asked."
I smile when the roses reach my hooves. They sparkle and glitter in the light, each one a certain hue of the seven colors of the rainbow. They are, as I told Sweetie to prepare them, altered into the seven colors of the rainbow and magically preserved to last for several decades. Sweetie is not too much younger than I; how she is able to still harness the power of magic as I am unable to is a fact that baffles me, especially a spell as straining as preserving and changing the shade of an entire bouquet of roses. Nevertheless, I am no less grateful to her for creating these for me.
I reach clumsily into my saddlebag for my purse, but Sweetie reaches a hoof over the counter and places it on my shoulder. I look up at her, a sweet smile on her face.
"Don't worry, Twilight. Normally, I'd charge a hoof and a leg for anypony else for roses so deeply altered... but for you, hon, it's on the house."
I smile back at her. It's beautiful to see that even though Rarity is no longer here, her generosity lives on partially through her very own little sister.
I begin to speak.
"Sweetie... are you sure? These are very expensive roses, and I-"
However, she cuts me off.
"Twi, I said it's on the house. Really, no problem," she says.
"Thanks, honey. But can I ask you for one more favor?"
"Sure, anything for you, Twilight," She says.
I gulp, take a deep breath, and speak.
"Sweetie, do you think you could do the spell on me that allows me to walk onto clouds? You know, the one I used to do so you, Applebloom, and Scootaloo could go up to cloudsdale?"
She thinks for a moment, and then her face lights up at remembering the spell and all the times I performed it for her and her friends. Scootaloo always liked to visit her idol, Rainbow Dash, and as such, I often performed that spell in order for her friends to tag along as well.
"Oh! That one! Sure, not a problem," Sweetie Belle chirps.
Her horn lights up, surrounded by an aura of aquatic blue, and a beam shoots from the tip. A warm glow envelops me for a few moments, and at last my entire form feels lighter.
"There you go, Twi! All set."
She comes around the counter once more and takes me into a final hug.
"Goodbye, Twilight. It was good to see you again."
"Goodbye, Sweetie. Good to see you too."
Finally, after letting go, I wave goodbye to her as I exit the boutique and continue my journey, the radiant flowers now neatly tucked and protected in my saddlebag. Sweetie Belle didn't ask why I needed the roses, nor did she ask why I'd wanted her to perform that spell. Though, she's not a dumb pony; I wouldn't be surprised if she put two and two together.
After a few more minutes of slowly cantering onward, I arrive at a large purple blimp. The ropes connecting the carriage to the blimp are a bright yellow, and the basket itself is lightly brown. A young colt stands beside it. I open my mouth to speak to him.
"Excuse me, sir. One trip to Cloudsdale, please," I say.
"Surely, ma'am."
*****
At last, I'm here. The place I've been waiting to arrive at all day long.
Cloudsdale Cemetery.
I walk as quickly as my quirky hooves will carry me through the graveyard. Even in daytime, walking through a field of lost friends, mothers, fathers, co-workers, and some children is saddening and embittering to even the happiest of souls. Besides, I have not time for such mourning. I have a mare to meet.
I finally come to one headstone that lies out from the rest. Upon its face lay a symbol that I have not seen in person in a long while: An icy white cloud, with a red, yellow, and blue bolt of fierce lightning jetting out from its bottom. The headstone reads: "Here lies: Rainbow Dash, beloved friend, family member, soul mate, and bearer of Harmonic Loyalty. May the Loyalty to others she taught live on in us all forever."
Underneath the small and now slightly eroded writing is a date:
"982-1008 C.R."
I sigh to myself with sadness, but as my eyes continue downwards below the date, my eyes light up and a slow smile makes its way onto my old and cracked face.
Stuck to the bottom of the gravestone is her necklace, the same one she received when we all discovered the power of friendship and found out that we represented the Elements. With age it has rusted and is now covered with dirt. I slowly bend down, careful not to hurt myself, blow off some dust, and stand back up.
"Oh, Rainbow... it's been too long."
I turn around once, to make sure no one else is present nearby.
I begin to speak with what appears to be an inanimate headstone.
But, on the inside, I know that it is truly far from inanimate. I know that somehow, wherever she is right now, she can hear me.
"Hey, Dashie... how have you been lately?"
The sound of a pin falling can be heard at this level of silence.
"I've been alright myself. I'm sorry I haven't visited you in a while. How are the friends doing? Are they enjoying Celestia's peace? How about you? Are you happy?"
I prepare to ask an important question as tears begin to well in my ducts.
"Do you miss me... as much as I miss you...?"
I sigh and sit beside the grave, leaning my head against its side. I know I can only sit on a hard surface like the ground for so long before my hip starts to give out, but I do it anyway against my better knowledge.
A selfish part of me longs to revert back to my previous form, the Alicorn. When the rest of my friends grew into old age, I knew the inevitable was coming. Applejack was the first to go by natural causes. I swallowed the pain, cried with the friends that remained, promised myself I'd make it through. But then they all started to move on, Fluttershy, then Rarity... and finally, the deciding heartbreaker.
Pinkie Pie.
Seeing her go broke my heart beyond recognition. She was the last root to the seed of who will always be my friends. Even in old age, she was cheerful, delightful, positive... happy.
It was that moment that I decided I couldn't ever go on without them. I talked to the Princess and told her awfully I was feeling. She told me things would get better, but they didn't. Each day brought another level of depression, another layer of sadness and grief. The pain became all too unbearable, and I pleaded to Celestia, begging for the ultimate solution.
I wanted to become normal again.
I begged her that if there were any way for me to revert to my old self, the Unicorn Twilight Sparkle, not the Immortal Princess, left to watch her friends pass away and become left alone, that she grant me that final privilege. She told me that there was no way to do such a thing, but I knew inside that if there existed magic to transform a petty Unicorn into an Alicorn, there certainly existed magic to do the reverse.
I pleaded and begged for what seemed like eternities before she finally saw haw grief-stricken I was. She began to believe herself that I could not continue to live with the amount of sadness I bore. She broke, and confessed that she could in fact turn me back to the old me. She told me that once the deed was done, the aging I had done while an Alicorn would take place immediately on my body. I would essentially turn from an ageless Alicorn into an elderly version of myself that matched the number of years I had done living, the years as an Alicorn included. She also stressed to me that it was an irreversible act. A pony could only be molded into an Alicorn once; once she or he had resigned that title and transformed back into his or her previous body, there was no going back.
I considered and pondered for a short while, but I knew inside that there was no other way to go on. I had to do it.
Though remorseful, she understood. She transformed me back, and herself and her sister retook the role of Equestria's leaders. I know not if the citizens of Equestria thought me a coward, a weakling, whatever it may be- but I know I could not continue in the direction I was headed in.
And so here I am now, alone, deathly old, sitting by the gravestone of the friend of mine I was most fond of.
Even leaning against this cold, ancient gravestone, still and lifeless, allows me to cling on to what little I have left of her. So there I remain, not moving as my mind floods with the one thing about her that will never leave me: our memories shared together.
I recall our first anniversary together, when I prepared her a bouquet of roses not much different from the ones that lay in my saddlebag beside me. The two of us spent that night on the edge of Ponyville Lake, watching as small disturbances hit the lake and created a glistening series of ripples that sparkled as the moonlight rained down upon the breezy and cool summer night sky. As I sit here with my eyes closed, a light breeze wafting past my mane and ears, I can still call upon the beauty of that night and visualize myself resting my head gently and comfortably into her shoulder.
I remember the time when she first told me she loved me. I remember the hot feeling on my face as my cheeks turned from violet to peach. I can still recollect how ridiculously speechless I was, wanted to tell her the truth but unable to speak from shock. As her head depressingly sunk, thinking I felt otherwise, she turned around and began to walk away. I giggle as I remember how I nearly tackled her to the ground as I ran to catch her and embrace her, tears of joy running down my face like a river. Her tenderness when she realized I loved her back, in is still fresh in my mind.
I sigh a second time. Even in old age, Unicorns have higher mental capacity than Earth ponies or Pegasi, and as such they have the ability to recall memories with more precise detail than the other species.
Both a blessing and a curse.
Then arrives the memory that I fear most. I attempt to push it away, desperately try to ignore it, but it forces itself deep into my thought process and I am forced to remember.
The memory of when I lost her.
The tears begin rolling down my face and my expression contorts in sadness and emotional distress. I close my eyes tight and remember the very last time I saw her the way I truly remember her.
Though few sounds stir in the Wonderbolt Academy Arena waiting room save hushed and nervous whispers, the air is tense with anxiety. The ear-ringing silence appears only to intensify such a nerve-wrecking atmosphere.
According to her, the Wonderbolts are only taking one addition to their team this year. As such, the expected environment of extreme competitiveness is blatantly present, even in the waiting room for the auditions; nerve-ridden performers jeer harsh glances at each other; Pegasi stretch their wings and warm-up in efforts to display their abilities and intimidate what are essentially their opponents. Even through all of this, the room manages to be, in reality, mostly silent as I stand next to her.
The room manifests an oppressive veil of claustrophobia, unsuited for the magnitude of ponies it houses. Its warm peach walls, decorated with pictures of Soarin, Spitfire, and other Wonderbolts, seem to constrict and close in on the mass of bodies inside. The checkered tile floor creates an irritating array of light; the black squares absorb the shine from the lights hanging from the cieling, while the white ones reflect the light rather obnoxiously. Fortunately, the crowd seems to thin out over time as, one by one, contestants are dragged outside into the performing area to present the talents they bear and prove (or at least attempt to) their importance as an asset to the Wonderbolts' team.
The two of us are so close to each other that I need not raise my voice over a light whisper so soft as to be inaudible to everypony except myself and her. Her face glows brightly, a strained grin forced upon her face. The violet-pink irises of her eyes burn with a passionate aurora of determination. Still, I can sense stress and fear in her expression. The will and persistence emitting from her eyes is slightly masked by feelings of uneasy nervousness.
I wear a dark cloak, without my crown, and wear my mane in a different style than the regal getup I would normally wear it in at the Canterlot Castle; after all, the hype that would erupt in the crowd as they realized the Princess was standing right in this very room would surely not do Rainbow Dash any better than Rarity did when she dragged all of the Attention towards her before Dash's Sonic Rainboom some years back. And so I stand there with her, my wings hidden by the cloak, a Princess disguised as a simple unicorn waiting with her friend. The others wanted to come, but Dash requested that only I be present for a day so special as this. I can understand, since after all, this is the moment where she can make her dreams come true; having her whole group of friends might make her nervous, at least a bit more if it were not just myself, the one mare closest to her heart.
"Still nervous, are you?" I say softly with a smile and a chuckle.
Rainbow looks to both sides in question.
"Who, me? Nervous? Pffft. Oh, come on. G-good one, Twi. After all, this is me we're talking about here, right?" she spews out rapidly.
Again I giggle; ever since Rarity pointed it out back before Rainbow's victory in the Best Young Flyer's Competition, Dash definitely gets very noticeable stage fright in times of performance in front of important ponies. It's pretty cute when she tries to hide it. Even now, her cheeks flush slightly pink as I respond to with an 'Oh, you,' stare that tells her I know how she's truly feeling.
She lets out a deep sigh and her head droops a bit. The rasp in her normally energetic voice vanishes as she begins to speak once more.
"Ah, what the hay. Who am I kidding..? Yeah, I'm still nervous, Twi... heh..." she mutters.
"Hey," I reply quickly with understanding and care.
I tuck a hoof underneath her chin and raise her head up, re-fixing her eyes, those beautiful roses of magenta, back onto my own. Slowly I place my hoof atop her head and begin to stroke her mane past her ears and down onto her cyan back with tender and easy brushes. She starts to grow calmer.
"Rainbow, you have no reason to be nervous," I start. "You're amazing at flying."
I pause.
"This is what you've been waiting for your whole life. Believe me, if anypony here has the incredible talent to be a part of the aerial flight team of Celestia herself, the talent to fly with the best- it's you, Dash," I remark
"Plus,you don't really think the Wonderbolts just forgot about the time you saved their lives in the Best Young Flyer's Competition, do you?" I add with a smile and a sly wink.
She giggles back at me, and I sigh with relief. At least after she's been so tense for this entire time, I was able to make her laugh once to lighten her mood and boost her morale, even if only by a little.
I nuzzle myself into her shoulder and put a hoof around her neck. She wraps a hoof around mine and returns the hug, and for several standstill moments, we merely stand there together, held in an unbreakable bond, leaning on each other for support. The thudding pound of her heartbeat lessens slower and slower as her nerves begin to relax further still.
"Thanks, Twilight."
"Any time, Dashie."
I give her a sudden peck on the lips. Not expecting it, she blushes a bit and retracts. Shortly after, however, she surprises me in response with a kiss of her own; hers is noticeably more intense than my original short one. Our tongues contend with each other, our lips pressed tightly together. The kiss only lasts for a short while, as other ponies are present in the room; we are not alone.
We ever so slowly pull away from each other's snouts. Her eyelids are half shut as she focuses her line of sight on my eyes. I lean inward above her left ear.
"I love you, Rainbow," I whisper.
"Love you too, Twi," she whispers back.
And there we continue to wait, the mob of Pegasi and their friends, family, and mentors gradually shrinking smaller. I feel myself beginning to grow impatient and begin to fidget. I softly clack my hooves against the tile floor for several minutes. We stand together for what seems like an eternity and then some, waiting, waiting...
And then, finally:
"Ms. Rainbow Dash, you're up next! Ms. Dash? Where are you?" Squeaks the high-pitched voice of a Wonderbolt employee.
He is a young male Pegasus, his coat an earthly brown, his eyes a shiny and energetic crimson. The color of his mane, a bright sapphire, clashes with the main color overtones of his body.
Rainbow takes a deep breath and says, beaming with confidence, "That'd be me, sir."
He looks over to her and gives a quick nod of approval.
"Alright then, miss. If you're ready, then it's about time to get out onto the arena rink."
She looks towards me.
"Don't worry, Rainbow," I say. "This is it. This is your moment. You can do this. Now go and make me proud."
For the first time today, I see that cocky, prideful grin on her face she has when she's about to show off just how darned fantastic she is in the sky.
And she truly is just that.
Fantastic.
She is ready.
I know she can pull this off.
I take her into a final embrace, let her go, and she walks over to the Pegasus employee, who is to escort her into the arena. Before they exit the room into the arena, however, he speaks once more.
"Um, Miss?" he says to me.
"Yes?" I reply with a tinge of curiosity.
"There is a section in the arena for relatives or friends of the Contestants for them to watch, so long as they keep quiet for the Wonderbolts to make accurate judgments. If you'd like to come, you may."
I look to Dash for approval, who nods her head agreeing, and I tell him I'd like that.
"Alright then, step right this way, behind me."
He leads the two of us through the door, but as soon as we step out into the fresh air of the outdoor arena in the sky, I hear him speak once more.
"The seating for viewers of the participants are directly over there," he says, waving a hoof towards some cloud bleachers.
"As for you, Ms. Dash," he continues, "Feel free to take a moment to stretch and make any final preparations. The Wonderbolts are just finishing up the comments on the last contestant, and they'll be with you in a minute."
Before I go, I look her in the eyes once more.
"Go get em', Dash," I say.
"You got it, Twi," she says back.
I flash a grin and slowly canter my way over to the bleachers, slowly lowering my flank onto one of the ever-fluffy seats. I watch her from a distance as she rests on the rim of the basketball shaped arena, a ring with surrounding walls and large open space in the center.
The Wonderbolts' desks lie directly across from where she is standing, also on the rim of the arena. They sit with papers on the desks, mounds and mounds of paper, some of them wearing paper, cringing, frowning, scratching their heads, scribbling furiously and the like. I notice Spitfire and Soarin', two of Dash's most inspirational idols in the 'Bolts. They seem to be on a high stress level as suggested by their contorted and short expressions. I can only begin to imagine, with the countless contestants trying to make the team and whatnot, that it has to be rather high-strung work.
At last, a voice only recognizable as Spitfire's booms from four speakers that surround the arena.
"Alright, Kid, you're good to go. Whenever you're ready. Give it all you've got."
Dash looks up at Spitfire and replies with a smirk:
"Yes, Ma'am."
She bends down, bringing her face to her forehooves, spreads her wings to their full span, and thrusts mightily with her hind legs, launching herself into the humid mid-day air.
Slicing the air with ease, her sleek body flies through the sky at rapid speeds. She soars upward higher into the sky, but not to the point as to make herself no longer within the judges line of sight. Dash deliberately bashes straight through many clouds, never lessening her velocity by any amount. A trail of precipitation follows behind her as she zips across the sky, gathering more and more dew. With a sudden nosedive, she bolts back down to the core of the arena, now level with the Wonderbolts once more. The crystals of water droplets still trail behind her line of flight.
She begins flying in a circular motion, tightening her radius until she's soaring incredibly quickly in a circle. A small twister begins to form as she revolves round and round. At first, it seems nothing out of the ordinary. Creating a twister is a feat not all too difficult for a skilled Pegasus pony.
But then the water droplets start to kick into action, as she had planned.
Circulating at rapid speeds and glistening in the unmistakable rainbow trail left in the wake of Dash's flight, the dewdrops begin to gleam in a spectral tornado, illuminating the entire arena with a strobe of multicolored radiance. I see Spitfire snicker and pass a comment to Soarin' while she's watching Dash go. Soarin' shakes his head, seemingly in agreement. I can read their expressions.
They're impressed.
Dash never did tell me, or anyone for that matter, of her actual flight routine she had planned for the auditions. So in fair honesty, I'm not any less impressed than they are.
She abandons the twister, flying upward into the sky above it and leaving it rotating in the center of the Arena. While flying free, she performs several stunning kicks, flips, dives, turns, and tricks, like her unforgettable Filly Flash and her trademark Buccaneer Blaze to further stun the Wonderbolts. Every so often, when the twister begins to become slightly unsteady, she'll descend back level with it and circle around it a few times, so as to re-stabilize it and assure that it remains controlled, rapidly whirling in the arena's middle.
After effectively showing off her slick control of the wind and her wings with several aerial manuvers (as indicated by the Wonderbolts' jaw-dropping expressions), she comes back down to the tornado and revolves around it, this time faster than before. By doing so, she stabilizes the twister greatly, giving her a large amount of time to leave it without concern of it spinning out of control and wreaking havoc. She breaks off from the tornado and allows it to circulate on its own once again. She spreads her wings to their full, prepares to climb the sky, and darts straight upwards.
Higher and higher she rises as her altitude swiftly increases; eventually, she is a mere cyan dot hardly distinguishable from the similarly colored baby blue sky that her toned body is set against.
Even with no direct sign or indication of what she intends to do, I know what she's going to try to pull off.
A Sonic Rainboom, of course. Though I'm not incredibly sure it will have the jaws of the Wonderbolts' agape on the same degree of disbelief as the time when they first witnessed it, it's still sure to leave them amazed nonetheless. A wide smile cracks onto my peachy face as she suddenly dives downward, gaining speed from both her momentum gained by falling and the physically-exerting flapping of her wings.
A transparent cone of wind resistance forms around the peak of her soaring form, forcefully trying to bounce her back the other direction. She hardly lets that intimidate her; Dash only increases her speed as the going gets tougher. Faster she accelerates, gaining roaring speed with every second she rips through the wind vertically. The edges of the cone deform, changing its shape from a rounded head into a pinnacle comparable to a pencil tip. As she gets at least slightly closer, I am able to once again make out her features; her mane spatters and flickers erratically in all directions, her magenta eyes squinted into a thin line of eyesight. Her entire body is sailing directly down, perpendicular to the ground some distance below the floating arena in the clouds.
It is only when she begins to draw close back to the arena that I am able to calculate the trajectory of her dive:
She's aiming straight for the center of the rainbow colored twister she had conjured and steadied earlier.
Knowing her, Dash's going to dive right into the top of the tornado and cause the eruption of the Rainboom to occur while she's somewhere inside the twister, allowing the water droplets caught in the cyclone to explode and vaporize with the ring of multicolored light that emits from the breaking of the sound barrier.
I snicker to myself.
If this won't completely stagger the 'Bolts and make them accept Rainbow onto their team, I have no clue what will.
On a side note, now that I recall back in my days as a youth in Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, we actually learned about several natural phenomena that Pegasus ponies could create, including tornadoes.
We learned, of course, how one would generate the wind patterns needed to spawn one, as well as their properties. We learned about catastrophic twisters that laid waste to entire villages, even some in the sky; those that occurred in the sky cities and towns took death tolls because they were so large that it led to the suffocation of those trapped inside it, even Pegasi that could fly. After all, there's no oxygen inside a tornado...
Oh no.
Nononononono.
Dash is going to enter that thing way too fast.
The wind is currently rushing through her mouth and nostrils rapidly from the sheer speed she's flying at, making it rather difficult for her to breathe as is.
If she breaks the sound barrier, which greatly increases her velocity than before the sonic boom, the air will be jetting through her lungs at an even more intense rate than she is currently experiencing. If she's getting pure oxygen being forced into her at an incredibly fast speed, coupled with the complete lack of oxygen in the twister...
It could knock her out cold.
She has nearly reached the twister; she only has a bit more than what looks to be about a hundred feet.
She's only got a few seconds left before the time of impact with the tornado.
"Rainbow, no! Stop!" I shout at the top of my lungs.
But it's too late.
KABOOM!!!!!!
She enters the spiraling cone of water vapor and splits the sound barrier, eradicating the water droplets inside and creating a ring of beautiful, rainbow stained mist that lingers in the stadium for quite a while.
Through all of the beauty and serenity if such a gorgeous stunt, I fear that not all things are quite alright. I can't look over the edge of the arena to see where she is. I shout to the Wonderbolts, who are sitting in awe at their desks.
"Hey! Is she okay? Is she alright?" I scream.
Spitfire, shaking her head and attempting to get back into the swing after such a phenomenal stunt, replies after a few seconds.
"Yeah, I'm sure she's fine, kid. Lemme have a look..."
Spitfire pulls some binoculars out from under the desk. She adjusts the lenses for a moment and then proceeds to use her hooves to lift the scopes up to her eyes. She looks downward. At first, she's grinning a bit, likely still from the performance she was just shown.
But then, her expression changes drastically.
Her face goes from yellow to pale in an instant, and her hooves begin to shake. The binoculars clumsily fall out of her hands. She mouths some words silently to herself, the other 'Bolts talking among themselves, not paying attention.
"What's going on?" I shout back. Is everything alri-"
THUD.
All of the Wonderbolts stop what they're doing at the audible sound of the impact on the ground hundreds of feet below.
For a moment, everyone just freezes in denial.
Finally, Spitfire, regaining what seems to be lost bearings, shouts to her those next to her:
Simultaneously, all of the Wonderbolts hop from their positions behind their desks and fly in formation as fast as their wings will carry them to the site of the accident below.
All the while, I stagger, remaining on the arena alone, my mind screaming in protest and trying to swallow the capacity of the event that had just unfolded.
No... I think quietly to myself.
Surely, this cannot be happening...
No.
No!
I power my horn and teleport to the ground below. When I arrive a fraction of a second later, the grass in front of me is empty.
"R-rainbow Dash?" I wail through tears.
"Rainbow... where are you?"
I turn around slowly.
The sight lain before me is the one I have feared my entire time I have been with her.
My brain takes a few full seconds to fully process the image my eyes are allowing me to perceive.
There, coated in blood, with fractured bones sticking through her body and her rib cage visibly dented inward, lay my Dashie, convulsing uncontrollably in a fatal seizure of head and internal trauma. Her normally multicolored mane is, for the most part, stained but one color at this point in time:
Crimson.
My thoughts become my words as I fall to my knees in front in her and begin to scream out loud, liquid flowing from my ducts in remorse and sorrow.
"Dash! No! Why... why did you have to...no... please... Dashie... you can't be...!"
I pause in silence.
I receive no response except the ceasing of her shaking and seizure, replaced by sporadic periods of movement that come and go with a rest of a mere few seconds in between.
I lay my head on her belly, coating my face in blood; I don't care. I slowly begin to stroke her face, pushing blood and bits of hair from her mane out her eyes. I know she's gone, but I don't cease. I sob continually as I do so, some of my tears running into my mouth and filling my tongue with saltiness and bitterness. I continue to stroke her mane behind her ears while looking up at her with my head on its side on her stomach, admiring a face even so beautiful in a situation like the one at hand.
"I-it's okay, Dashie... it'll all be... okay..."
Her body convulsions become less and less frequent.
I can hear the Wonderbolts land on the ground behind me, cringing at the display before them.
My Dashie... I think to myself.
...is really... gone?
My mind forces all of the memories we've shared together, all that we've been through. All the difficult times we've pulled through.
Together.
Everything I held dear to me, the one thing that matters most to me...
...is gone.
I lift my head from her belly and look her directly in the face. I peck a compassionate kiss on her nose and embrace her for the last time.
