> Merely a Mare
>  by Ebon Mane
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue: Solitude
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The last rays of sunlight had long since faded when Celestia alit upon the highest balcony of the tallest tower in Canterlot. She rarely came to this particular corner of her castle; some error in design or construction had left it without a door, making it impossible to access without flight. The princess of the day had little use for the deserted balcony, but she suspected that it was the solitude that had attracted its other occupant. Princess Luna stood across from her, back turned, wings tucked at her sides, head raised toward the heavens. If she had noticed Celestia's landing, she gave no sign.

The white alicorn moved to her sister's side, hooves clopping slowly on the rough stone. "Good evening, little sister." 

Luna sighed, continuing to gaze up at the heavens as she responded absentmindedly,  "Is it? I do like when the moon is a waxing gibbous. I did my best tonight. I always try my best, but some nights are better than others. Isn't that odd?"

"Sister," Celestia ignored the question, "I haven't seen you at court. You need to come back to the world, learn to live again. You've avoided our subjects so much that I fear your desire for solitude may be consuming you. How long has it been since you've moved from this spot?"

"Since the last full moon, sister. Since the last full moon." 

Celestia felt guilt at that; she hadn't realized how time had run away from her. She should have come sooner. Since Luna had returned to Canterlot, they'd spoken only a few times. The regent of the day felt her face fall as she considered ways to reach the sister she'd imprisoned so long ago; the dark mare was close enough to touch, but still as distant as the cold, pale moon.

Even so, the princess of the sun felt as though if she could just find one crack in her sister's shell of bitterness, she could have the old Luna back, the Luna that had loved to laugh. She attacked the problem from another angle, "Why don't you try some sleep? I found it to be a very pleasing experience, the first time I did it five hundred years ago, or so; I'm no longer surprised that most ponies do it once a day."

The princess of the night looked toward Celestia, raising an eyebrow, "I remember when you would have considered sleep to be beneath you. You've become similar to our subjects in so many ways since you imprisoned me."

Celestia answered with good cheer, despite the other alicorn's hostile words, "I gave up on tyranny and on holding myself above them since your imprisonment. Even old ponies can learn new tricks." Her mouth twisted with a wry half smile, which faded as her gaze and tone grew distant. "Being like our subjects is not a bad thing, dear sister, as you well know. The fact that you ate and drank and traded jests and wit, the fact that you seemed like one of the herd while I stood apart, partaking in none of it, that was one of the things that made the ponies of Equestria love you."

"Well, sister, I'm afraid that my wit is somewhat dulled; I am a thousand years out of practice, after all. I believe my verbal jabs leave bruises where once they cut to the quick," Luna smiled, but it did not change the sadness obvious in her eyes, "Loved, did they? In the past. They used to love. I threw it away in a futile gesture that they could never have understood in the first place. Sister, I was moved by your forgiveness, after all I'd done, but if they knew the truth about how things were... I don't know if our subjects would ever be able to forgive me. For what I did then. For telling them now, when it's all so long lost. The love they had for me is a thousand years dead, and it's a far more recent burial than I ever deserved."

The white alicorn turned her head away from her sister to hide the mist forming in her eyes, "I'm sorry, Luna, that they love what I've done for them so much more. I maintained your part of the cycle for a thousand years, but I know that it is the fact that you set things in motion that weighs so heavily upon you, not the maintenance. If I could take some of that burden from you, I would, and perhaps you would never have been driven to such desperation, but you know that I could never have done as you did, could never have given the gifts that you gave." Celestia sighed. "This was always our lot. Only I can give them the gifts of light, and only you could have given them the gifts of darkness."

Luna slowly ground one of her hooves into the rough stone upon which she stood. After a moment, she whispered, "That helps little, sister. If I look at it that way, then I should be condemned not only for what I have done, but also for what I am."

Celestia met the other alicorn's eyes, her stare suddenly intense. "Luna, if you disregard everything else I've said to you, hold on to this: I could never have made Equestria as wonderful as it is, as full of magic and beauty, if you had not been there to shape it beside me. Whatever the mortal ponies feel for you, I will always see you as my equal, and I could not have accomplished this," her hoof gestured in an arc, encompassing Canterlot below and the valley that spread beyond, silvery in the light of the moon, "without you."

"That...," the dark mare paused. "That means much."

"As for forgiveness," the pricess of the day said, "I don't blame you for seeking it, Luna. From yourself or from others. It took me centuries to find it in my heart to forgive myself for what I stood aside and allowed you to do. I only hope that you're a wiser being than I am. If you want to love your place as you once did, sister, if you want to forgive yourself, then connect with our subjects. It is their forgiveness, their empathy, their friendship, their love, that taught me a better way than callous detachment. Their capacity for understanding may be beyond even our reckoning. Centuries ago, when a few ponies found it within themselves to forgive me for the tyranny I inflicted upon them, to be my friends, that was what started to melt the ice in my heart. Frozen things are brittle; they break easily, sister, and the heart is no exception. Think on it. Goodnight." She flapped her wings, soaring away from the balcony; she feared that anything else she said would do more harm than good.

From behind her, Celestia heard a whisper on the wind, "The forgiveness of our subjects..."
> Chapter 1: Honesty
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Twilight, tell this here madmare what a terrible idea it is to pull that there stunt over Sweet Apple Acres!" Applejack begged the unicorn that had become the voice of reason in Ponyville. Rainbow Dash had just finished explaining her trick again for Twilight's benefit. Applejack didn't understand more than a bit about the pegasus' talk of barometric pressure, humidity, dew point, and all the rest of that Cloudsdale nonsense, but she knew a terrible plan when she heard it. She stood in Twilight's library, surrounded by books, but the earth pony didn't need to read a single one of them to know that lightning and apple trees don't mix.

Rainbow Dash gave a dismissive snort, "Come on, Twilight, I've been up in the clouds for years and I know weather. Applejack doesn't know the first thing about lightning; if I practice at her farm, the weather conditions are perfect most days, so it won't be anything more than a bit of a flash. I'm sure there won't be any fire. Well, no fire I can't put out quickly with a spare cloud."

Applejack was not at all reassured by Dash's statement, and the pegasus' disregard for her livelihood grated on her,  '"Any fire is too much fire! It takes years of hard work to grow an apple tree, Dash, not that you'd know anything about that." 

Rainbow Dash was in Applejack's face as quick as wind, shouting, "What? I'm up there every day, busting my flanks to give your trees their sun and rain!"

"Girls," Twilight Sparkle tried to interject.

Applejack studiously ignored the unicorn, preferring to argue. "Busting your flanks when you're not too busy napping most of the day away. I can't get my day's work done in ten seconds flat like you, Rainbow Dash. Have you ever even seen the sun rise? Or is it always noon when you set to work?"

Twilight's patience seemed to be thinning. "Girls."

The pegasus seemed to be enjoying herself. Grinning, she countered, "I'm the best at what I do, so I can get it done quickly. Some ponies can't handle that sort of thing. You really shouldn't brag about how slowly you work, Applejack. Unless you're asking for help."

Applejack's anger flared at the low blow. "That's it! Hoof-wrasslin'. Now."

Rainbow Dash's smile only grew. "You're on." The two began to look around, searching the library for a suitable surface.

"Girls!" Twilight shouted, her voice amplified by magic. Her friends winced at the painful volume, and turned to look at the unicorn, who had put on her 'no nonsense' face. 

Applejack sighed; things had just started to get fun. 

Seeing that the belligerents were paying attention, Twilight Sparkle continued in a normal voice, "I'm going to do some research on this sort of trick. I've seen the Wonderbolts doing it, so I know it's possible. I'll just make sure that it's safe, and then we can all talk about this again. Does that sound good to you two?" The unicorn smiled hopefully.

Applejack made a non-committal noise, but was distracted from her effort to find a way to extend the argument by a knock at the door. The three ponies looked at each other in confusion; the library was open and Twilight kept the entrance unlocked. Spike was usually on doordragon duty, but he seemed to have slipped away at some point, presumably to avoid getting caught up in the argument. For a few moments, the door went unanswered. Then Twilight shrugged. Her horn glowed as she magically opened the door. Paying no mind to the customer, she shouted, "We're open, come in!"

It had been nearly a month since the Summer Sun Celebration, but Applejack recognized the newcomer immediately. Midnight blue cloat, light blue mane. Wings. Horn. Applejack barely had a glimpse before she found herself staring at the floor, bowing deeply toward Princesss Luna. It had been instinctive, the same sort of reaction that most ponies experienced when Princess Celestia was nearby. There was something about the alicorns sometimes, some aura of majesty, that could do strange things to ponies caught unaware. 

The Earth pony glanced at her friends. Rainbow Dash was grounded, nearly prostrate, and the pegasus looked quite shocked about it. Twilight, apparently accustomed to Celestia's presence, merely stared at Luna. There was a hardness in the unicorn's eyes the like of which Applejack had never seen there before. The apple farmer gathered her resolve and stole a glance at Luna, who merely looked surprised.

"Oh! My apologies!" The Princess exclaimed. Something nearly imperceptible changed, and Applejack felt as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She straightened up, no longer feeling an irresistible desire to worship the dark princess. Applejack had perceived the alicorn as being something amazing, something literally awe inspiring, but now she just looked like a pony, if a particularly well-formed one that happened to have both wings and a horn. The urgency in the dark mare's voice was replaced by a distant tone as she continued, "That was rude of me. I used to hide that all the time without thinking about it, but I fear that I'm out of practice. I'll remember to keep it away from now on."

"What are you doing here?" Twilight's words had an edge to them that Applejack hadn't thought the mild, bookish mare was capable of.

Rainbow Dash, of course, was capable of far worse, and she cut in before Luna could respond, taking an aggressive step toward the princess, "Yeah! Did you come for revenge? We'll stop you again if we have to! Your night isn't welcome here!"

Luna recoiled as if struck, but regained her composure quickly. "No. I don't want revenge. You were right to stop me when you did; I was misguided. I was wrong to want to bring eternal night to Equestria. Wrong for so many reasons...." The alicorn looked at her feet as she trailed off, sorrow etched upon her face. Applejack couldn't conceive of Princess Celestia ever allowing herself to look as vulnerable as Luna looked at that moment, and the Earth pony found herself feeling almost sorry for the princess. It seemed strange to her that she should pity one of the rulers of ponykind.

Twilight's voice broke the silence, "True or not, that doesn't exactly answer my question."

"I suppose not," the alicorn sighed, "The reason I came is... well... I wanted to apologize. To apologize and to beg your forgiveness. The forgiveness of all the Elements of Harmony. I want... I want to try to be a friend to all of you."

The three mortal ponies were silent for a moment, trying to process what they'd just heard. Rainbow Dash reacted first: she scoffed, "You tried to kill us. You sicked a manticore on us! A manticore and trees! Well, more the manticore than the trees. Do you know how much a manticore's tail hurts when it whacks you out of the air? You dropped my groundbound friends off a cliff! You made me think... I thought I had to give up...," She trailed off for a moment, her eyes distant for a few seconds before they snapped back into focus, narrowed on the alicorn, "You think you can just walk in here and expect us to forgive you?" The pegasus hovered angrily, forelegs crossed over her chest, a scowl on her face. "I don't forgive so easily. I bet the others agree. We're not omnibenevolent like Celestia."

Applejack and Twilight stared at Rainbow Dash in disbelief. The unicorn managed an incredulous, "Dash, where did you learn the word omnibenevolent?"

The pegasus rubbed the back of her head with a hoof, looking sheepish. "Word a day calendar."

"And here I thought I knew ya, Dash," Applejack shook her head, smiling in amusement. She hoped that the word meant what it seemed to mean; she didn't want to ask. Quiet returned to the library for a few heartbeats.

Luna's whisper cut through the silence, "Celestia is not all-forgiving. She had her own reasons for welcoming me back to my old place at her side."

Twilight's voice darkened, "Reasons she didn't see fit to share with her most trusted student, of course. They must be some truly amazing reasons, to cause the Princess to make such a tremendous error in judgment, to ignore justice so fully. You escape from your prison and lock Celestia away, threaten to bring eternal night to Equestria, try to kill my friends and I, and what do you get for it? A crown and a throne, and your sister's best efforts to return you to the glory and position you abdicated through betrayal so long ago. Oh, and a welcoming party, of course. We stop you, and save Equestria, and what do we get for it? A small thanks followed by a large cover up. No reward. Nopony outside of Ponyville knows what happened on the night of the Summer Sun Celebration. We aren't even allowed to mention it to ponies that weren't in Ponyville that night. Oh, how we could have put that bragging Trixie in her place.... All because the Princess didn't want your reputation ruined. Like ponies won't figure it out. It doesn't take a teleportation magician to realize that the moon looks a lot different these days, and there's a new alicorn around, and maybe, just maybe, there's something to those old stories. You won't be able to escape from the stigma of what you've done for long. When it all catches up to you, you won't have a place at the Princess's right hoof anymore."

Luna had looked more and more devastated as Twilight ranted, but something in the last bit seemed to catch her attention. Applejack could barely hear the alicorn whisper, "I... think I see." The princess straitened, and her regal mask softened with compassion. She spoke with quiet surety, "This is not a contest between us. You are still my sister's favored student. What she did, she did for you as much as me. In time, you will see."

Twilight Sparkle seemed to swell, shaking with rage. "Don't you patronize me! You don't know the value of what you threw away."

The alicorn merely sighed. "You don't know the value of the gifts she gave you."

The librarian set her teeth, jaw unmoving as she spoke two vicious words, "Get. Out." 

Luna looked as though she were about to speak, but thought better of it. The alicorn turned and walked out slowly, shaking her head. Twilight stared out the door after the alicorn for a long time as Applejack tried to think of something to say to the unicorn, some comfort. Before she could even try, Twilight shouted, "Everypony out! The library is closed for the day. Out!" The unicorn turned away and began levitating stray books, propelling them into bookshelves with loud thunks. Some of them managed to find their places without knocking everything else on the shelves off. Others were not so successful.

Rainbow Dash and Applejack were the only other ponies in the library. They looked at each other, but Dash seemed to be as confused as the farmer was. With a dark look, the pegasus flew out the open door, leaving a rainbow trail in her wake and shouting over her shoulder, "I'm going to warn the others. She's back for revenge, I know it." Applejack wasn't so sure.

The Earth pony walked out, glancing back at Twilight before closing the door behind her. The unicorn still hadn't stopped shaking; Applejack had never seen the librarian in this kind of mood; she seemed inconsolable.

Outside, the noonday sun beat down on what had been a bustling ponyville. Princess Luna sat alone and unmoving in the clearing in front of the library, staring at the ground. Many of the ponies that had been going about their business were now gathered in small groups, whispering in hushed tones and surreptitiously glancing at the newcomer, fear or anger written large on their faces. Rainbow Dash was already well out of sight. Applejack sighed. If what Twilight had told her and the other Elements about Luna's past was true, this was just the sort of thing that had led to her becoming Nightmare Moon in the first place. The Earth pony knew that she had to do something. She just wished that she knew exactly what it was. 

Applejack approached the princess and dropped to a knee in a bow, and got her attention by stating in a shaky voice, "Princess Luna."

The alicorn turned her head to look at Applejack and gave a shallow smile, "Stand up. My sister was the one fond of ponies bowing to her; I've always found it to be a bit distasteful. I don't recall your name, but I do recall that you were one of the ponies who subdued me in my madness. Honesty, right? Thank you."

Applejack rose slowly to her hooves, somewhat put off by the wandering of Luna's thoughts. She managed to reply, "Yes, Princess, Honesty. My name is Applejack."

The alicorn broke eye contact and looked up, gazing directly into the sun's glare. "Good to see you again, Applejack. Please, call me Luna. Just Luna. I'm glad that the circumstances of our second meeting are somewhat better than those of our first. The ponies here are afraid to approach me, but you are not. You must have a purpose; what is it?"

"Rainbow Dash thinks that yer here to get revenge for what we did to you."

The Princess nodded, "I know."

"Twilight Sparkle seems to hate you, but she didn't at your welcome celebration, and I don't know what changed."

The Princess nodded again, "I do know what has changed for her. Or rather, what changed within her. She has her reasons. Everypony has their reasons, even if the reasons are unreasonable."

Applejack paused. Luna's eyes hadn't left the sun; a normal pony would have been forced to look away in pain long since. The Earth pony supposed that the alicorn must have been used to her sister, or something. She tried not to let the oddness of it distract her as she continued, words spilling forth uncontrolled, "I... I know the value of honesty because I know the value of trust. My friends are all ponies that I know I can trust, but yeh've got to give the trust before you can get the knowledge. I'm not certain that yer not plottin' some sorta revenge. I can't know for sure. But I think that you're being honest when you say that yer sorry. So I'll trust you. And I'll forgive you. And I'll help you convince the others, even those two stubborn mares back there. Just don't betray my trust. Got that?" The orange mare paused for breath.

The princess was crying. Applejack doubted that the tears had anything to do with looking at the sun too long. The alicorn spoke, whispered words that barely reached her ears, "Yes. Thank you. You won't regret it."

Applejack looked away. She wasn't good with tears, her own or those of other ponies. Not wanting to remain silent, she said the first thing that popped into her head, "You look like you haven't eaten in a spell. You hungry? How about some apples? My treat." Shocked at herself, she looked back at Luna, fearing the alicorn's reaction.

The princess replied with a wry smile and dry words, "I would love some apples. It really has been a spell since I've eaten. In fact, it feels like I haven't had a bite to eat in a thousand years."
> First Interlude: Apples
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Applejack set another basket full of apples in front of Princess Luna. The alicorn levitated two of the fruits and popped one into her mouth, chewing slowly as she rotated the other. Luna studied it from all sides, humming softly to herself. Applejack smiled appreciatively. Nopony had ever been this interested in her apples before; the princess couldn't seem to get enough of them. She had already emptied three baskets, and the Earth pony estimated that the slight alicorn had eaten at least her body weight in fruit over the course of the afternoon. The businesspony in Applejack was irked by the value of what the princess had eaten, but she couldn't help but be fascinated by one pony eating in a few hours enough food for a week of generous meals. "Enjoying the apples, Princess Luna?" she asked.

"I thought I told you that it's just plain 'Luna'," The alicorn murmured softly. Applejack might have thought she'd offended the princess, if it hadn't been for her subtle smile. The apple that she had been examining began to lose its outer layer; large sections of bright red skin peeled off the fruit and began to orbit around it. The princess spoke almost absentmindedly as she concentrated on the apple, "In any case, I am enjoying the apples very much. I haven't eaten in a long time, and I had forgotten what a delight it is. Most art is concerned with the satisfaction of one sense at a time, usually sight or hearing. The culinary arts must engage all five senses to be truly effective." Her magic removed the last of the peel from the levitating apple, leaving an off-white orb surrounded by a ring of red debris. Applejack was entranced by the magical display. Luna continued to stare at her work as she spoke, "And of course, many of the most beautiful things in this world are to be found in very unassuming places. Consider the apple: it is a thing of nature, but no longer fully wild, guided by the hooves of ponies to its current form. It is pleasing to the eye, a wonder to every sense, but for all its beauty it is also functional."

Thin black lines began to appear on the apple, diverging and meeting in no obvious pattern as the alicorn continued her distracted murmuring, "Art at work, keeping ponies alive; many from my time would have dismissed it as common, pedestrian, and many more would have taken such things for granted, but I imagine that they'd miss them very quickly if there were none to be found." The off-white orb floating in front of Luna broke apart into a cloud of expertly carved pieces. Applejack could see right angles, sinuous curves, jagged edges, each fragment unique and minutely detailed.

Applejack had never thought of apples as items of beauty before; far as she saw, grub was grub. Still, she wasn't about to argue with a princess, and though she hadn't understood everything that Luna had said, she still swelled with pride to hear such kind words about her life's work. The farmer didn't consider herself qualified to discuss beauty with one of the immortal rulers of Equestria, so she changed the subject, "Uh, Luna... where do all them apples go? If I ate half o' that many apples, I'd be burstin' at the seams, but ya downed at least a hundred apples without slowin' down, and ya still look like one ah them Canterlot runway models. Do you alicorns have four hollow legs or somethin'?"

Luna glanced up from her project; the pieces of the core had begun to come back together in a shape quite unlike the original orb. She blinked at Applejack, looking confused, then glanced at the empty baskets around her. "A hundred apples?" she asked.

Applejack nodded, "Pips, core, and all."

"Well. There goes my diet. Sorry about this. I didn't realize how many I'd eaten. When alicorns eat, the food just sort of goes away. But we do enjoy it! Still, I feel bad about wasting so much of your crop. At least it'll be good for advertising." The alicorn said. As she spoke, the new form of the apple pieces became recognizable. Applejack marveled at the miniature trunk, roots, and branches that the fragments had formed; bits from the core served as knotholes on the rough, irregular faux bark. Luna's magic seemed to be keeping the fruit from turning brown with exposure to air, and the construct retained its ivory coloring.

"Advertising?" The Earth pony asked.

"Yes," Luna replied as the floating bits of peel tore themselves into ever smaller pieces, "Advertising. Ponies still advertise, right? Why, I recall that I couldn't even walk into a shop without them putting an 'Approved By Princess Luna' sign in the window. It got a bit annoying sometimes, but I never wanted to explicitly tell anypony to take such things down; I didn't want to feel responsible if their business went under." Tiny bits of apple peel formed a swarm that converged on minuscule branches. When the red blur stilled, a perfect model of an apple tree floated between the two ponies. White apple flesh formed roots, a trunk, and branches covered in foliage of red apple peels. Here and there among the branches, seeds hung in imitation of ripe apples.

"I'd never do somethin' like that without your permission, Luna," Applejack said, entranced by the unorthodox sculpture, "An' that. That tree. That is amazing. I've never seen anything like it, or anypony do magic like that."

The princess raised an eyebrow and spoke dryly, "Every night, I seem to move an unfathomably large object a distance that you'd be unable to put into words, and this, among all my feats, is what impresses you?" It sounded quite stupid to Applejack when Luna put it that way, but once again the princess didn't seem offended. She continued, "You have better taste than I gave you credit for, Applejack. As for advertising, I admit that I don't have quite the same name recognition that I did before, so I'll have to repay you another way. Wait here."

With that, Luna trotted to the nearest apple tree, one that had been mostly bucked clean to feed her, and sat down. The glow in her horn intensified as she considered the tree. A purple halo formed around it, humming with magic, then faded. Where shadows fell on the fruitless branches, blossoms as dark as night bloomed, and fruit began to grow from them. In mere seconds, a new crop of apples had fully grown; to Applejack, the lustreless black orbs looked for all the world like holes in the air. Then, with a final pulse of magic, the dark apples began to sparkle.

Luna plucked one with magic and levitated it to Applejack. She balanced the strange fruit on a hoof and gazed at the lights that danced across the black peel.

Stars.

A sea of stars filled her vision, unfamiliar constellations spinning slowly across a window to a night sky. Spiral splashes of milky white whirled in the distance while pinpricks bloomed in brilliant flashes before they disappeared. The apple glowed momentarily as a sun seemed to pass close to its surface; Applejack could see what looked like huge plumes of flame flying from the orb, all seemingly frozen, moving too slowly to be perceived. There were more stars than Applejack could ever hope to count. She didn't know how long she stared into the apple, but she was only broken from her reverie when she heard Luna's voice, "You're supposed to eat it, you know."

So she did.

And it was delicious.
> Chapter 2: Kindness
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luna could think of nothing to do after she left Sweet Apple Acres that afternoon, but Applejack had told her where to be the next morning, and so she had gone to wait. She flew over Ponyville, spotted the Forest Road, and landed nearby in a suitably clear field. The view was not as good as it had been from her balcony, but the alicorn found it to be a worthwhile change of scenery. The sun set, and Luna raised moon with an imperceptible magical effort. Her work done, she relaxed, standing motionless in the sea of grass as she enjoyed the night.

Dew formed on the alicorn's fur and feathers in the early morning chill; the newly risen sun had nearly dried it by the time she saw Applejack walking up the road. The Earth pony called out a greeting, and Luna's lips curved slightly in an unbidden smile. She waved a wing and trotted out to travel beside the other mare. Applejack had a serious expression and got down to business immediately, briefing Luna as they passed one of Ponyville's outlying farms, "We're headin' out to Fluttershy's cottage; Fluttershy is the Element of Kindness, and just about the nicest pegasus you'll ever meet. She doesn't have a grudge holdin' bone in her body and she'll forgive you lickety split, as long as you can get around one big problem: that pony is a coward. She's a close friend of mine and dear to my heart, but the biggest scaredy-pony I've ever laid eyes on. She'll probably bolt the moment she sees you, on account of that whole Nightmare Moon thing, especially if Rainbow Dash got to her first. Unless, o' course, we give her nowhere to go. So we're going to catch her when she's in her house; there's only one door and she won't fly out the window on account of her wings lockin' up when she's scared."

Applejack paused, and Luna took the opportunity to cut in, "You say that she's a coward, but she didn't balk at facing me when I was Nightmare Moon. She didn't flee then; why should she do so now?"

The Earth pony nodded, "Well, that's one of the admirable things about Fluttershy; she can be very brave when she needs to protect her friends. Of course, you're not gonna to be a threat to her friends, of the pony sort or of the critter sort. You'll be taking care of the animals for her while she's cooped up. She'll be watchin' you, and if you're nice to her animal friends, I'm sure she'll warm up to you. Eventually."

Luna raised an eyebrow, "So your plan is to trap her in her house until she's forced to talk to me? That doesn't sound very... kind."

"Well," Applejack replied with a nervous chuckle, "We're just gonna call this 'tough love'."

"And what if one of her other friends shows up?"

"Oh, that's taken care of," The Earth pony stated, a mischievous smile spreading across her face, "I left notes for others sayin' that Fluttershy got called off to help with an emergency with some critters in another town, a real bad outbreak of somethin' or other. I told em' I'd come round once a day to take care of things here and make sure all the animals got fed an' everythin' while she was gone. It's not worth this long trip to go to the cottage if Fluttershy isn't around, so they shouldn't bother us." 

Luna's lips curled in a sardonic grin, "Some Element of Honesty you are." She couldn't keep the amusement from her voice.

Applejack laughed, "Well hold on there, missy! Honesty means bein' worth trustin', not sayin' no word that isn't true. A pony can speak only the truth and still be slippery as an eel, using carefully chosen facts as a weapon against you, and a pony can tell only lies and know that every one of them is worth believin', and lift your spirits with falsehood. Which pony do you think is more worth trustin'? More honest?"

The two ponies traveled on in silence. They passed empty fields and stands of oak and elm, and the land began to look a bit more wild. The sounds of nature, bird calls, brooks, and the wind in the trees, all became more noticable as they left the din of Ponyville behind. Luna thought on what the farmer had said. The princess found that she did not mind being called 'missy.' It had a charming informality to it. As for Applejack's view on trust, the princess was unsure, but it was certainly a question worth asking.

After a few minutes, the two mares spotted the cottage. Its surroundings teemed with wildlife; squirrels chittered in the trees, ferrets played in the fields, and there seemed to be a bird on every branch. The calls of the animals filled the air with song. It had been a long time since Luna could enjoy such a menagerie. Even the old royal gardens couldn't compete in sheer number of animals. It seemed to the alicorn that Fluttershy must have been extremely skilled, or incredibly charismatic, to attract so many animals to her care. Possibly both. Applejack put out a hoof to stop her a few hundred yards from Fluttershy's home and spoke in a rather unnecessary whisper, "You wait here. The animals shouldn't give us away; I've got a bunny on the inside. I'll go in alone, in case Fluttershy is watching out the window. I'll tell her what's goin' on, and that should distract her. Give me a ten count after you see the door close behind me, then trot out to the clearing where she can see you. Once she knows you're out here, she probably won't leave the house. I'll tell you more after that's all done. You got all that?" Luna was rather pleased by how seriously Applejack was taking this; she nodded.

The Earth Pony set out toward Fluttershy's home with a determined stride. The princess watched her cross the clearing, knock on the cottage door, and disappear inside. She counted slowly, then trotted swiftly out to to a visible area, and waited. It wasn't long before Luna saw the curtain on the front window twitch aside, and the face of a pink-maned yellow pony peek out. They made eye contact for just an instant, Fluttershy's eyes as wide as saucers, before the pegasus dropped out of sight. Luna found herself smiling.

Eventually, Applejack emerged from the cottage, closing the door behind her, and approached the princess. "That went about as well as I expected. She wants to talk to you, but she's afraid. If you go in there, she'll just clam up and shudder in a corner. So, we're going with my plan. Have you worked with critters before?"

Luna tilted her head, thinking. "Well, I created a lot of animals, but that was a long time ago. Most creatures are very different now. I haven't had a pet in.... Well, the species is extinct now, to give you some idea."

"Uh...huh...," Applejack replied, raising an eyebrow, "I guess I'll have to show you everthin', then. I've taken care of things 'round here before, so it shouldn't be too bad. Fluttershy keeps most of what you'll need in a shed or the chicken coop, so you shouldn't have to get anything from the house." The Earth pony spent the next few hours showing Luna everything Fluttershy did for the animals. The Alicorn rather enjoyed herself, feeding birds, helping a family of voles with their burrow, letting mice ride on her outstretched wings, and generally assisting however she could. 

Around noon Applejack gave a final speech, "I've got my own land to take care of, so I'll leave you to it. Just try to stay away from the house; no need to spook Fluttershy any more than she already is. When you need to sleep, I've got a guest room that you can use, if you'd like to fly over, but try to wait until Fluttershy is already asleep."

"That won't be a problem," Luna interjected, "I don't sleep."

The Earth pony's voice was completely flat, "What."

"My sister and I don't need to sleep. It's like eating. We can. Celestia has, and says it's fine. But we don't need to. I've never tried it. It can't possibly be as good as eating. Is it?" Luna was genuinely curious.

"Uh... no, Luna, I guess it's not. If you don't sleep, what do you do at night?"

"I look at the stars. That's kind of my thing. I was known for it. Ponies even named a science after me. I guess Lunastronomy didn't last through the time that I was imprisoned in the moon?" Luna was disappointed; there had always been at least two or three Lunastronomers alive, studying the stars. Before her banishment, at least.

"You have got to be the weirdest...," Applejack muttered before she caught herself, "Uh, no, not by that name. I think it's just astronomy now. That's a hobby of Twilight's, but y'all don't seem to be on speaking terms, yet. Still, that's good, common ground could be useful. I'll think about that, but for now, we have to focus on Fluttershy. I'll leave you to it. Have a good day. And night, I guess." With that, the orange pony trotted off toward Sweet Apple Acres. 

Luna spent the rest of the day feeding, helping, or just spending time with Fluttershy's companions. The animals seemed to mistrust the alicorn at first, but food and softly spoken words won many of them over, and eventually all were accustomed to her presence. Every so often, the princess thought that she could feel the pegasus watching her from the window. Whenever Luna turned to look, she saw only a gently swaying curtain.

Eventually, it was time to raise the moon, and the lights in the house came on as the sky grew dark; the work, however, continued. Nocturnal animals emerged, and Luna found herself surrounded by owls, bats, and other creatures of the night. A strange furry creature that looked like a cross between a rat and a monkey stared up at her. Its huge eyes seemed to glow like lanterns in the dim moonlight, and its disproportionately large tail twitched restlessly. It was quite possibly the cutest thing the princess had ever seen, and she greatly enjoyed feeding it. Untiring, she tended to the new pack, long after the illumination in Fluttershy's cottage was extinguished. Luna wondered how their normal caretaker could handle all of this; the pegasus couldn't possibly have twenty four hours a day to dedicate to her work.

Eventually, dawn came again, and the nocturnal animals returned to their dens, branches, holes, and other miscellaneous dwellings. She was a bit sad to see them go; anything that lived its life under the moon, any citizen of the night had a special place in her heart.

The second day of her task began much like the first. Applejack came by in the late morning to deliver baskets of apples, one to Fluttershy and another to a particularly intelligent-looking rabbit. When Applejack reemerged from the cottage, Luna told the Earth pony about her progress with the animals, and the orange mare nodded, smiling, "Fluttershy ain't so certain you're scary, now. Keep doin' what you've been doin', and you'll be just fine." Her tasks complete, Applejack left.

It was late afternoon when Luna heard it; a weak caw from across the field. She wandered toward the cry, looking for the source. Soon, she could see a raven in the grass, walking slowly in circles as though it had no idea what to do with itself. Both its wings were twisted unnaturally, flesh and bone showing where one had been partially severed; its feathers were devastated, sticking out at odd angles where they were not slicked down by blood. The bird had been mauled, and clung tenuously to life. Luna's horn glowed as she approached it, scrying its body to determine the extent of the damage. Before she could get close, the raven noticed her, and she felt its heartbeat increase; her large, unfamiliar form sent the mortally injured animal into a panic. The alicorn knew that too much of a shock could kill it outright, and that she would have to be very close to be able to heal the bird without inflicting enough pain to be a death sentence. Mending living tissue correctly was a monumental task; even the best unicorn healers could only speed natural regeneration. The raven needed more than that.

Luna lowered herself slowly to the ground, trying her best to be nonthreatening. As she inched forward, she called out softly, hoping to reassure the bird, "Please come here. I want to help you. I can make it better." She knew that it was the tone, not the words, that mattered; the raven couldn't understand her speech. Despite her best efforts at coaxing and crawling, the raven kept its distance, the grounded bird hobbling away whenever she came near, unapproachable in its confused panic. Luna could almost feel the seconds ticking away as the raven weakened, approaching death.

The princess collapsed as she realized that there was nothing she could do; trying to approach quickly could shock the poor thing literally to death, and grabbing it with telekinesis certainly would. Tears welled in her eyes as she contemplated the futility of her efforts. She didn't think of her attempt to win over Fluttershy or what the black bird's death would mean for it. The raven had become just one more creature that recoiled when she reached out, one more thing that feared her, one more subject whose trust she could not win, and that drove her to despair. Luna wept into her hooves. Her failure would cost the creature its life.

"Come here, little one," A soft voice called out from beside the alicorn. She looked up, and through misty eyes, she could see Fluttershy standing beside her, motioning with a hoof. The raven was slowly but intently making its way toward the pegasus, giving the pink-maned mare as much of a look of devotion as its solid black eyes were capable. Fluttershy looked down at Luna, concern etched on her face,  "Please don't cry, Princess. Can you help him?" The raven was huddled against one of the mare's hooves.

The alicorn nodded, adding, "Just try to keep him still." Her horn pulsed with magic; she held it nearly touching the raven's head, its dark aura washing over feathers and blood. She could count on her hooves the number of times she'd mended living flesh. The difficulty didn't lie in repairing damage, but rather in doing so without causing permanent deformity. If the sinew and muscles came together wrong, the raven would never fly again. Time seemed to slow as Luna's magic enhanced her perception; she saw each cell, each fiber, every ruptured blood vessel as she traced nerves, shutting down cells to numb the wounds. She didn't bother with subtlety; any cell with a hint of damage was banished as she summoned a healthy copy in its place. New blood vessels bridged the gaps in the raven's flesh as conjured blood began to flow through them, replacing what had been lost.

The muscles were a different challenge; trauma had deformed the tiny threads of muscle tissue. Luna burned off the ends, tracing back to relatively undamaged flesh on both sides of each wound. Cell by torturous cell, she reconnected the sides, one fiber at a time; each ending had a twin, and connecting them incorrectly would weaken the muscle. She mended the tendons, and tested their elasticity, making adjustments. Splinters of bone came together around restored marrow, new calcium mending them on a level that natural healing could never have recreated. Skin grew over the wounds, and Luna set the raven's feathers aright, growing new ones where old plumage had been lost. Finally, Luna restored the nerves, returning feeling to her charge.

Nearly a second had passed.

The raven appeared stunned, but Luna could feel its heartbeat return to normal as it tested its new flesh. Soon, with a caw, it took off and circled above the ponies' heads, gliding on mended wings. Satisfied, it returned to perch on Luna's horn. 

Fluttershy giggled, "Oh, Well done, Princess. Good as new. I think he understands."

Luna, her eyes crossed as she looked at her new horn ornament, smiled, "I'm glad. And please, just call me Luna," the alicorn paused, "I wonder how long he's going to stay there."

The raven cawed, twisting its head to look down at the alicorn with one black eye. She was sure that if it weren't for the beak, he would be smiling at her.

Eventually, the bird went on its way. In that time, Fluttershy managed to work up the courage to invite Luna inside for tea. They drank in silence, the pegasus appearing nervous and the princess just not seeing any significance in the lack of words. After finishing a third cup, Luna spoke, "Thank you for the tea. It's very good," she paused, "And thank you for helping me with that raven."

Fluttershy responded quietly, "I was watching from the window, and saw what you were trying to do. I couldn't just stay inside with you trying so hard to help that poor little guy. I'm sorry I was too afraid to talk to you earlier."

Luna examined her empty glass to avoid looking at the other pony, "It's alright. A lot of ponies are afraid of me. I'm just glad that you're able to talk to me now."

Silence returned, but after a moment, Fluttershy broke it, "Luna, can I ask you something? Why did you become Nightmare Moon?"

Luna tilted her head, "Twilight didn't tell you?"

Fluttershy looked away, "I'd like to hear it from you," her eyes moved to meet the alicorn's, "If that's okay."

The princess sighed, "You love these animals, do you not? You want to help them, care for them, guide them. You provide only your best for them, as well as you know how. Their affection is your only reward, but it is more than enough. Am I correct in all that?" Luna paused, and Fluttershy nodded, so she continued, "What would you do if you wanted to show your affection for some creatures, to guide them and provide for them, to play with them and enjoy their company, and they shunned you? Fled from your domain and presence? Rejected your gifts and spurned your love? How well would you take it?"

"I...," the pegasus looked down, gaze locked on the floorboards, "I... don't think I would take it very well," her eyes widened, "Not very well at all."

"So you understand some part of my pain," Luna sighed, "These creatures are like family to you, but I created the ancestors of your ancestors, long, long ago. Ponies are my children by more than adoption, and I love you all as such, but it is easy to become angry when your children don't do as you think they should. When they forget, and abandon you."

Fluttershy's bashfulness faded as her interest grew, "You created ponies with Celestia?"

"I created many things with Celeista. Ponies, though, as they are now, are more mine than hers. The three separate forms, as well as...," Luna paused, and her eyes grew distant as a cloud of sadness passed over her face, "...well, there are other blessings that separate my ponies from Celestia's, things that are essential to ponies as you know them. Just hope that you never meet one of Celestia's children, if any yet remain." 

And then they were silent, as Fluttershy traced a hoof along the floor, seemingly deep in thought. Eventually, she spoke again, "Luna, if you don't mind my asking, are you going to become Nightmare Moon again if you, um, don't get the love you want from, er... us?"

Luna shook her head, "No, Fluttershy, and not just because it would be evil. I've learned that you can't win love with threats and violence. The path to the sort of love I want is the path of patience and kindness. The hoof that helps, not the hoof that harms."

Fluttershy murmured, barely loud enough to be heard, "Applejack said that you came for forgiveness. I forgive you, Luna. Just remember- be kind."
> Second Interlude: Stars
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Princess Celestia,


I miss you.

I want to hate you, I want to hurt you, I never want to speak to you again, but still, I miss you.

I've been in Ponyville nearly a month now, enough time to send you a few reports on the magic of friendship, and in that time the bonds I share with the ponies here have only grown stronger. By many measures my life is better here than it ever was in Canterlot. I spend time with my friends, I laugh with them, I learn about their interests, and I help them when I can. I'm known around town for my level head and strong magic, the very qualities I take the most pride in. Running the library is a dream come true for me. I should be happy with what I have.

And yet, I miss you. The old you. The you I thought I knew. I'm tired of trying to act like nothing is wrong. I'm tired of you pretending that everything is the same, as if a few lines in a letter about your duty to your sister and how I should feel honored could make me forget what you did.  I had read ancient texts that mention you as a master manipulator, but I dismissed them all. How could the cold-hearted mare they described be the benevolent princess who had been so true to me for so many years? Oh, what a foal I was.

It started as a tiny suspicion, but you know me, princess; I can't help but try my best to find every minute detail, to get the clearest possible understanding. You taught me that. You taught me so many things. The more I thought, the more the evidence piled up. 

You gave me a break from formal study knowing that I would take the time to pursue my own interests, which inevitably means the library. The librarian just happened to have a new book to recommend to me that day, on one of my favorite subjects. You've always told me that the myths and legends of ponies have some grain of truth to them, and so my curiosity was piqued by the story of those alicorn sisters, and I had to look into the Elements further. I still don't recall when you told me about them, but it must have been you; no other source could have made such an impression on me that I remembered a mere mention years later. When I read about the Mare in the Moon in the copy of Predictions and Prophecies that you'd given me for some birthday long ago, I sent you a letter. Your immediate reply was surprising at the time, even with my hope for a quick response. In retrospect, you must have had it prepared. 

Am I so transparent that you don't even need to read my letters? Are my friendship reports merely wastes of ink?

In any case, you replied in the only way that could have guaranteed that I wouldn't drop the issue, that thoughts of the Elements of Harmony would stay with me: by dismissing my concerns completely, in the most supercilious manner possible. I was concerned for Equestria, concerned for you, and you mocked that concern. What better way to ensure that I would remember the Elements of Harmony and the details of the legend than to kindle within me a burning need to prove myself to you? It was masterfully done. If you'd told me that you'd made arrangements for the Mare's return, or that you'd strengthened the wards, or that you knew of an error in the book I read, and perhaps thrown in a word or two of praise for my diligence, I would have dropped the issue in an instant.

But I couldn't drop it, and you sent me to Ponyville, and a tiny library that happened to have just the book I needed. The Elements of Harmony: A Reference Guide? How many copies of a treatise on an artifact lost for a millennium could possibly exist? Of course I didn't find that until after I'd gone over the checklist of celebration preparations, and met the ponies that you'd chosen to oversee preparations. The only one of my friends that you didn't set in my path was the one that would have found me and thrown me a party no matter what I did. How long did you know that those were the ones? How long did you know that they'd make great friends for me? How long did you keep that knowledge from me, knowing how alone I was?

You knew what I would face at the Summer Sun Celebration, but you didn't warn me. When I noticed that duplicity, it opened the flood gates; there were so many elements of your plan that had to have been set up years in advance. You wrote that letter to get me to do what you wanted. How much else in the time that you've been planning this has been a lie? Did you stage my entrance examination to the royal academy? Did your words of encouragement follow a secret script? When I did well at my studies, were the looks of pride and affection that you gave me coldly calculated? If I write an autobiography, will it end up in the fiction section?

We elements acted out our parts, following the script you wrote, and now your sister is free. You've even managed to rid yourself of me. By my own request, no less! Congratulations. Your grand design, come to fruition. At least I was a useful tool. I suppose we all have a role to play.

Every life is a story, and every story has a plot, a theme, a goal, something essential at the center of the narrative. Was saving Luna the great goal of my life? Was my character written for your plot? I wouldn't be surprised. I've known for a long time that you're the main character in my life, though I never dreamed that you would also be the antagonist.

You were my world. Your voice, your approval, those were the reasons that I got up in the morning. Everything I've done, from the first time I saw you at that Summer Sun Celebration so many years ago to the present day, has been for you. Through good times and bad, you've been a fixture in my life. You're my teacher, my mentor, my ruler, and my goddess, but you mean even more to me than that. So much more. I wasn't even old enough to know what a schoolfilly crush was when I first saw you, raising the sun and filling the world with radiance. I fell in love with you then, and I've loved you ever since. All of my studying was for you. First it was just to get into your Royal Academy. Since then it's been the fact that when I succeeded, when I read the books, and did precisely what they said, and worked the magic better than anypony else in the class, you would smile at me. A simple constant that I built my life around: you smiled at me, and your eyes filled with pride. Were you proud of me, or were you proud of yourself? I'm afraid to even consider that it might be the latter.

I feel so betrayed. I've read half the royal library, and yet I still cannot find the words.

Even so, I miss you. I feel a deep pit somewhere within me whenever I see the sun. I feel it because you're missing from my life. The rays cannot warm my heart the way your presence always did. Its beautiful radiance is no substitute for your radiant beauty. It gives me life, but it does not make me want to live. The sun is yours; I must shun it, lest I be reminded of you.

So much reminds me of you.

I saw Luna today. She had no part in what you did. I hate her still. She's here because you used me. My anguish was the cost of her salvation, and you gladly paid. I don't know if I can ever forgive either of you for that. I know that I certainly can't forget it; the moon reminds me every night. Her presence seems like a pale reflection of yours. She is cold and distant, but there is an undeniable beauty. The moon is hers? I can believe it.

You are like the sun and she is like the moon. With those celestial bodies barred to me, what can I strive for? My cutie mark, of course, bears my answer.

I must be the stars. 

My trust in you was my downfall. The fact that I love you is what made your betrayal hurt so much. I won't let that happen again. I can't live with another wound that hurts this much. And so I won't trust, and I won't love, and I won't be hurt. The moon and the sun dance through the sky, but they have no effect on the course of the stars; the stars care not for them. That is how I will protect myself. Apathy will be my armor. No matter what may transpire with the sun or the moon or Equestria below, my course will be unaffected, and I will not feel the pain. That is my goal. I must become like the stars. I must give up trust and love. I will dedicate myself to this.

But I may still miss you.





Your Wayward Student,

Twilight Sparkle




*  *  *  *  *




Flames consumed the letter, hot and red. Twilight Sparkle's magic held the paper above a candle as she watched smoke rise from the message.  She could not bring herself to send it. A clean cut, she reasoned, was best. 

In truth, reason had little to do with her actions. Deep within, she felt that as long as she didn't send the letter, the contents wouldn't be true. They couldn't be true. She desperately wished that it were all just some dream, that she'd wake up in her bed in Canterlot with a jolt, already forgetting the details of her vivid nightmare.

The letter burned, but its words did not. They stuck in the unicorn's mind, and played over and over again. They sounded like the world crumbling.

Twilight stared at the ashes, a pile of burnt paper and burnt bridges. She whispered to herself, "I've got to be like the stars, and the stars don't cry...."

Indeed, the stars did not cry that night, but Twilight Sparkle did.
> Chapter 3: Laughter
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The morning sun shone over Sweet Apple Acres, and Luna whistled cheerfully as she chewed on an apple. Applejack tried not to think about that too hard; she couldn't even whistle with an empty mouth. She suspected that whistling and chewing at the same time was not quite possible, but didn't feel the need to bring it up with the princess. Impossibilities seemed to spring up like weeds wherever Luna went. In the presence of a goddess, the Earth pony reasoned, there is no need to take special note of miracles.

The alicorn polished off her second basket of apples. Applejack was glad that the princess insisted on growing new fruit to replace any that was bucked for her; Luna's ability to eat as many apples as the rest of Ponyville combined had been worrying, at first. The regrown apples put any possible objection to rest; each and every one was exquisite. Sometimes Luna's apples were even better than natural ones, like the intriguingly sour blue-skinned fruits or the batch from the day before that had grown in fermented. The Earth pony smiled at the admittedly fuzzy memory. Those had sold well. 

The alicorn stared at the third basket in front of her, her brow furrowed in concentration as though it were filled with puzzles instead of apples. Seeing that she had paused, Applejack coughed to get her attention, "So, Luna, how're'ya likin' Ponyville?" After Luna had spoken with Fluttershy, Applejack asked her to spend some time in town. Anything the princess did there, other than laughing maniacally and trying to bring eternal night to Equestria, could only improve the residents' opinion of her. From what the Earth pony had seen on the occasional visit, the alicorn just sort of wandered around, looking at plants and playing with animals. She only seemed to speak during her daily visits to Sweet Apple Acres, where Applejack shared stories and apples with her.

"It's quite nice," she replied with enthusiasm, "the architecture is so modern. In my time, I was never really one for small communities, but they have their own charm. I've always been more at home in the crowds of whatever capital we had than in the outlying villages. Towns are terrible for solitude; it's much more easy to be alone when you're in a crowd. Towns are also terrible for socializing; it's much more easy to find a friendly face when you're in a crowd."

Applejack nodded and smiled. It was her normal strategy for when ponies said things that she didn't quite understand and didn't really want to, and she'd found herself using it quite often around Luna. "How 'bout the ponies? You make any new friends?"

The alicorn's face fell, "No. But at least they don't go out of their way to avoid me anymore. Mostly. It's a start."

Applejack had expected that; even the ponies that didn't resent Luna for being Nightmare Moon would be be too nervous to approach a princess in most situations. Today, things would be different. Applejack had a plan. The idea had come from an offhoof comment about common ground. She'd thought about what her friends had in common with Luna, and it had become obvious to her the next time she'd seen the princess devouring apples with reckless abandon. 

The Earth pony explained her plan to the alicorn, and as Applejack spoke, Luna's smile grew. By the end, the princess was positively beaming. Then, with a flash of magic, she was gone.




***




The long hall glimmered in the morning light. In place of walls, thin marble columns rose, spiraling, fluted, and intricately carved, framing views of royal gardens below and sky all around. The ceiling, high above, was a flawless surface of gleaming white marble, interrupted only by the brilliant silver of a crescent moon and countless stars. It was mirrored below by the unbroken expanse of the floor; Celestia's golden throne, shining like the sun on its stepped dais, was the only furniture, the only object in the room. A sunburst of gold inlay radiated from it; the widest beam extended to the entryway, an arch on the only closed wall, leading back to the palace proper.

The throne room was designed to fill ponies with hope, awing them with its beauty and inspiring them with its majesty. It was meant to be a joyful place, of contemplation or convocation, a place from which the princess could rule her subjects with wisdom and generosity, sharing in their joy and comforting them in their sorrow. A place from which the light of the princess could shine all over Equestria.

Celestia brooded on her throne; the atmosphere could not have matched her mood more poorly. In less than an hour, the audiences would begin, and she would have to put on a mask of cheerful benevolence. The ponies of Equestria looked to their ruler for confidence and tranquility; the princess hoped that they could find it, even now that she could not.

A shadowed spot appeared amidst the blinding brightness of metal and marble. Luna was dwarfed by the size of the hall, but it was impossible to miss her; the contrast between the dark coat of the night princess and the brilliant white of the floor drew Celestia's eyes immediately. For a moment, neither spoke.

The day princess stepped down off the dais to meet Luna on even height, "Welcome, sister. This is the Grand Audience Chamber, and my throne room. It will be our throne room, when you wish it to be. You've been gone; rumors have come from Ponyville, saying that you're spending time there. Are they right?"

Luna raised an eyebrow, "Your faithful student hasn't mentioned me in a letter? From what you've told me of the little pony, I would have expected you to know the very day I saw her. I'm fairly certain that my visit made some sort of impression on her. Did she forget me so quickly?"

Celestia looked away, her face darkening, "She is not - I have not corresponded with her, of late," she looked back toward her sister, feigning serenity, "Sister, I apologize if Twilight has been hostile to you; I fear she may blame you for some of my indiscretions."

"I see." Something in the words made Celestia suspect that her sister had seen far more than she wanted to reveal.

"In any case, dear sister," the white alicorn smiled, "What were you doing in Ponyville? And to what do I owe this visit?"

"In Ponyville, I am working to gain trust and make friends. As for my visit," Luna looked a bit sheepish, "I came to ask to borrow money. I apologize for the horrible cliche. I just need a modest sum, a pittance by the reckoning of the treasury."

Celestia felt a strange mix of confusion and pity at that, assuming the worst. "Money cannot buy trust, or friendship, or happiness. You haven't forgotten that, have you, little sister? It's very nearly as bad as power for that purpose."

Luna nodded, "I know. It is, at this point, necessary but not essential. I will use it wisely, with the knowledge that the things most worth having are obtained by a more valuable currency than notes and coins."

"Very well. Take what you need." Celestia expected her sister to teleport to the treasury at that, but she did not. The princesses were silent for a time, each lost in their own thoughts. 

Eventually, Luna spoke again, "You are sad, sister."

"As are you. It is said that tragedy leaves one sadder but wiser. We have seen much tragedy in our lives, sister, and gained much wisdom. Isn't sadness to be expected?" Celestia let her mask slip, just a little, and the light of the throne room seemed to dim in kind.

"For me, perhaps," Luna said, "But you never showed sadness, and I don't think you even felt it, before my exile. Even during the fall of the alicorns, you were detached, analytical, unfeeling. Did you shed even a single tear for your favored creations? I suspect not. I didn't understand then, and I still do not."

"Be glad of that. I was different, then. When sadness became possible for me, the tears came. I mourned my children. I mourn them still," Celestia sighed, "But I never understood your actions during that disaster either; in the darkest years, when we thought that nothing could be done, you yet smiled and joked and laughed with those doomed ponies."

Luna's unfocused eyes stared off into the distance,  "And died a little inside, every day, as I cried where those that were left could not see it. Even when I was sad, I tried to be happy as well, because laughing with tears in your eyes is better than weeping in undiluted sorrow. And where your detached analysis failed, my laughter found a solution. A solution worth laughing at."

"A solution I could not have imagined on my cruelest day," The day princess said, her eyes shimmering, "But it serves. As detestable as your blessing is, sister, it serves. Laughing while sad, you say? A wise lesson. Why have you forgotten it, my melancholy, mirthless little sister?"

Silence filled the throne room once again. Neither alicorn could meet the other's eyes. Eventually, Celestia noted the position of the sun, and spoke in a grave tone, "Beware, Luna. A terrible event approaches us."

"What?" Luna's eyes widened.

"Go now. If you're here when they come, then you will share my fate," the white alicorn whispered urgently.

"What fate, sister?" 

"I will be forced to sit on my throne all day, and listen to the most boring ponies in the land talk. My court comes into session soon." And with that, the ruler of Equestria began to laugh.

Luna shook her head, but smiled despite herself as magic took her away.




***




"This building looks delicious."

Applejack chuckled at Luna's observation, "If you think that's appetizin', wait 'till you see what's on the inside." The two ponies walked into the overgrown gingerbread house that was Sugar Cube Corner, and found that it  was mostly deserted. They'd managed to arrive after the breakfast crowd and before the lunch rush, just as planned. Luna's saddlebag seemed to have enough bits for the operation,  the farmer noted, judging by how the princess clinked when she moved.

The only occupant of the store was the pink Earth pony behind the counter. Pinkie Pie grinned when she saw Applejack and shouted, "Welcome to Sugar Cube Corner. How may I fill your day with deliciousness on this delightful... day?" Her grin disappeared when she noticed Luna standing behind her orange friend. It was replaced by a suspicious scowl, "Oh. I see you brought Black Snooty. Welcome to Sugar Whatever, how may I yadda yadda yadda?"

Applejack's brows furrowed, "Pinkie Pie! Is that any way to talk to a payin' customer?"

"But Applejack! I've got to be rude. Rainbow Dash told be not to 'be all Pinkie nice to her' cause Luna wants to," Pinkie Pie's eyes became distant and her face scrunched up in thought, "wreak horrible vengeance upon us," Her bright countenance returned, "which is bad because I don't have any perfume." 

Applejack raised an eyebrow, "Rainbow Dash said that. Exactly that? 'Wreak horrible vengeance?' That sounds more like Twilight than Dash."

"That's what I said! But she just grumbled something about a calendar and flew off. Woosh!" Pinkie Pie threw a hoof in an arc in demonstration.

"Do you believe everythin' Dash says, sugarcube?" The orange pony asked.

"Yep," the pink mare replied with a nod and a smile.

"Do you believe everythin' I say? How about that?"

Another nod, another smile, "Of course I do."

"So I say that Luna isn't here to... uh... whatever with the vengeance," Applejack nodded, satisfied with her logic despite the momentary stumble, "What now? We can't both be right."

"Sure you can," Pinkie insisted, looking quite pleased with herself. Applejack and Luna waited for the pink pony to elaborate on that, but she just sat there, smiling.

"Riiiiight. Well, I know y'all can't turn away a payin' customer, in any case. The Cakes won't let you. Luna, go ahead and buy somethin'." Applejack waved a hoof at the displays and the diverse array of cakes and pastries just behind the glass. 

Luna rushed forward, eyeing the bounty hungrily. She walked slowly back and forth in front of the counter, examining each row in turn. Suddenly, she stopped, staring at a cupcake. Her eyes grew wide as she examined it. Dark cake was visible though a thin, white wrapper. It was topped with a towering spire of scarlet frosting; how the item managed to stay upright was a mystery. Little blocks of chocolate and ripe raspberries were embedded in it, barely clinging to the sides of the heap. The princess seemed mesmerized. She tapped the glass with her horn, "Is that... raspberry chocolate?"

"Precisely," Pinkie Pie proclaimed with perceptible pride. The price was pronounced, payment passed from patron to proprietor, and the pink pony presented the pastry to the princess. 

Luna levitated the cupcake closer and began to rotate it. Her eyes seemed to trace every line of the frosting swirls. She sniffed it, then sighed contentedly. "This is going to be good," she whispered, apparently to nopony in particular. Finally, she opened her mouth and, with one huge bite, devoured the pastry. Her eyebrows lowered as she chewed thoughtfully, and Applejack wondered how it would compare to her apples. Part of the businesspony didn't want to lose the monopoly on princess-feeding in Ponyville.

Luna swallowed, then sighed contentedly, "Please give my compliments to the baker. That was exquisite."

Pinkie Pie giggled, "I baked that one, silly. And thanks." Applejack resisted the force pulling her hoof toward her face; leave it to Pinkie to call a princess 'silly.'

"You did?" Luna asked, "Well, then thank you. The rice paper wrapper was an interesting choice, but did not go amiss."

"You liked that?" The pink pony seemed overjoyed, "I do that all the time, ever since one day I thought to myself, 'Pinkie Pie, what's the one part of a cupcake you can't eat?' and then I was like 'the wrapper!' and I put my plan into action as soon as I got out of the well."

Luna nodded and smiled, her attention once again focused on the display case. Her horn glowed, and a red aura appeared around several pastries. "How much for these, my good mare?"

Bits changed hooves and baked goods disappeared in a frenzy as the night princess consumed a dizzying array of sweets. Luna had a comment or question for each, and Pinkie Pie was delighted to respond with information of varying relevancy. The princess praised a sour blue apple, boysenberry, and lime pie, and the pink pony lamented a failed pineapple, potato, and pickle pie experiment that she described as, "Not nearly as popular as I expected.'" In response to Luna's lamentation that there were only a dozen cinnamon cookies available on the display, the baker produced a box from the back room with scores more; they lasted less than a minute. Applejack couldn't begin to understand how the alicorn managed to avoid being covered in crumbs.

Luna purchased a gigantic three layered vanilla cake, and devoured it in one bite. Applejack objected on principle, "Land's sakes, how'd you get that down like that? It was bigger than your head! It don't make no sense." 

Pinkie Pie laughed, and Luna just shrugged, "Magic or something. I wasn't really paying attention to the how of it. Cake is far more important."

"Your horn didn't glow!" The farmer said, "The world follows some simple rules. Apples fall down. Ponies grow old. Horns glow when unicorns are doin' magic. You're gonna drive me crazy one of these days, Luna. Messin' with my trust in the rules."

The pink pony behind the counter laughed all the harder at Applejack's confusion, and Luna's mouth twisted into a wry smile. Her horn began to glow, "There. My horn is glowing. Happy, Applejack? Am I allowed to ignore the rules now?"

The orange mare grumbled and turned away, only to find that the approaching lunch hour had provided an audience; nearly a dozen ponies stood in a rough line behind her. They were obviously waiting to be served, but were all too entranced, awed, or just plain confused by the spectacle that Pinkie Pie and Luna were providing to complain about the wait. Applejack suddenly felt a bit guilty for bringing the princess. Luckily, clopping from the stairs heralded the arrival of Mrs. Cake, who greeted her shop with a, "Oh, hello dearies. Busy day today, I see. I'll take the next customer over here, please." She swiftly took her station next to Pinkie Pie and smiled, motioning to Applejack with a hoof.

The farmer blinked, confused for a moment. "Oh," she turned to the pony behind her, "You can go ahead. I'm with the princess." Applejack moved to an out of the way corner and watched as Mrs. Cake sold to a seemingly endless stream of ponies. The ponies in line couldn't help but stare at the spectacle of the alicorn, who seemed hellbent on running Sugar Cube Corner out of baked goods. Many patrons even stayed after eating their lunch, murmuring to each other and taking in the show, forming a crowd around the edges of the room. Luna didn't seem to notice them; the food and the baker kept her thoroughly distracted. Bread, cakes, anything that Pinkie Pie suggested added to the growing pile of bits on the counter. Sometimes, suggestions became a bit... exotic.

"Oh! I know! You've got to try cupcakes with hot sauce. They're my favorite!"

Luna raised an eyebrow dubiously, "In all my years, I've never heard of that particular combination. It sounds absolutely insane." She leaned forward, eyes wide, and nodded eagerly, "What kinds of hot sauce do you have?"

Pinkie Pie's face scrunched up in concentration, tapping one hoof against another to count out her list, "Well, from least spicy to most spicy, we've got eh, mild, hot, very hot, hottest, inferno, 'I'm not kidding seriously Pinkie I just breathed fire what is wrong with you why did you let me eat this', rainbow, and double rainbow. Some of them are named based on taste-tester feedback!" She grinned, "Rainbow and double rainbow use real rainbows, as fresh as I can get. I hear they're spicier directly out of the pools of Cloudsdale, but I've never been there, so I just use the ones at Dash's house."

"Double rainbow?" The Luna asked, "What does that mean? What's the difference between rainbow and double rainbow?"

Pinkie Pie shook her head, "That's a trade secret." She paused, "But, since you're a princess and all, I guess...," The pink pony looked to each side before leaning forward conspiratorially and whispering at a volume that probably carried her words halfway to Canterlot, "I use twice as many rainbows." She returned to her previous position and raised a hoof to her mouth in a shushing gesture, winking at the princess.

Luna just blinked, "Okay, double rainbow it is then."

After she managed to extinguish the majority of the flames, the alicorn gave her mixed compliments to the baker, "That was delicious, but you probably shouldn't serve those to your mortal customers. Repeat business comes primarily from ponies that remain fully intact inside after eating your products."

Pinkie Pie nodded, seemingly awed by this revelation, and thanked Luna profusely for the advice.

After a few dozen tarts, Luna pointed to what appeared to be a decoration on the counter. It was a short cylinder of black marble, encrusted with gems of all shape and color. It almost looked like a stylized cake. The princess asked about it, and Pinkie Pie's face fell, "I baked that when Spike moved into town, because I know how dragons love to eat gems, but Twilight Sparkle won't let him buy it. She says it's unhealthy because it has too many empty carats."

The princess bought it, and ate it. Applejack shook her head. Why was she surprised? She grinned and called out from her resting place, leaned up against a wall, "Are you gonna eat the counter too, Luna? It's right shocking that there's a moon left, now that I know y'all can down rocks."

The princess just smiled, looking in equal parts both sheepish and amused, but Pinkie Pie yelled back indignantly, "Hey, you'd be pretty hungry too if the only thing on your menu for a thousand years was moon pies!"

It was impossible to tell whether or not the pink pony meant it as a joke.

The ponies spent the remaining time before closing talking and cracking jokes. The energetic inanity of the baker, the straightforward semi-seriousness of the farmer, and the dry wit of the princess complemented each other well, and the customers that passed through often lingered to chat with the trio of ponies. Pinkie Pie and Applejack laughed loudly and often, but Luna just smiled enigmatically, breaking into a grin when anything particularly amusing was said.

Eventually, the sun began to set, and Pinkie Pie locked the door, the day's business done. She turned to Luna and said, "You know, I've been thinking. We should throw you a party! Like a, 'hey, remember that other princess?' party or a 'welcome back to Ponyville' party. Or something. We could have it tomorrow!"

The princess tapped a hoof against her chin in thought. "Well, my birthday is next week. We could throw a birthday party...."

Applejack raised an eyebrow, "Y'all have birthdays?"

Luna blinked at her, seeming slightly confused as she asked, "What? Don't you? I thought that would still be around," completely missing the point.

Before Applejack could answer, Pinkie Pie, bouncing with excitement, interjected, "How old are you gonna be? It's gotta be over a thousand, right? Is it a thousand and one? Two thousand?"

"Four hundred and eighty seven million, seven hundred and ninety two thousand, four hundred and twenty one," the princess recited. 

The Earth ponies' jaws dropped. Pinkie Pie seemed to be, for once, speechless. 

"But I've been told that I don't look a day over five hundred thousand," Luna added with a wink.

Applejack gave a weak laugh, "Heh. Good one. You really had us going there for a second. Four hundred million. Heh."

"That part wasn't a joke."

Applejack blinked, "You mean... really?" Luna nodded. "That don't make no sense. How's that possible?"

Luna smiled wryly, "Immortal, remember? I don't age. I don't die. In a billion years, I'll still be counting off birthdays. What makes you think that you caught me in the first few thousand years of my life?" The princess sighed, "Ponies have no sense of scale. They measure all things against themselves, a measurement that for many purposes, I'd find quite lacking. Ponies always think that 'distant' means 'just a bit past the furthest I've gone', and that 'ancient' means 'just a bit older than me'. Try to understand that the stars are more distant than you can possibly fathom, and that I am equally ancient. If you can't, just take my word for it."

Just when Applejack thought that Luna couldn't surprise her anymore. 

Pinkie Pie whispered to herself, "Four hundred million... I don't think I have that many candles...."

"Maybe just one big candle?" Luna suggested.

Pinkie Pie's usual energy returned, "That'll have to do. That many birthdays just means that I'll have to try extra hard to make sure that this birthday is your best birthday ever!" She nodded to herself, smiling. "Anyway, I've got a lot of baking to do to replace what we sold to our best customer today! Come back tomorrow. We've got so much to plan!"

Applejack and Luna said their goodbyes and left the shop in good spirits. As they headed toward the road out of town, Applejack paused to glance back at Sugar Cube Corner. She whistled, "Well now, Luna, look at that. That's at least one more pony that respects your name." The princess turned around, and in the light of the setting sun, they could see that Pinkie Pie had hung a plain black and white sign in one of the windows of the Corner. A smile spread across the alicorn's face as she read the words:

Approved By Princess Luna.
> Third Interlude: Slapstick
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luna watched as the light of the sun dimmed, the last rosy touches of twilight slowly dwindling. Night had begun to fall as she escorted Applejack back to Sweet Apple Acres, and so the alicorn's horn lit up with a milky glow. As she set the moon on its nightly course, the light from her horn danced, sending out tendrils and flares of brilliant illumination. None of it was necessary for the task, of course, but the princess found it amusing to indulge her Earth pony companion's faith in the 'rules'. Horns always lit up when magic was done? Sure, why not? She noted with satisfaction that the farmer had assumed the dumbfounded stare that always came when Luna brought forth beauty with her spells. 

When stars emerged from the deepening darkness of the night sky, Luna let her own light dim. The princess found that she couldn't stop smiling. Even so far from Sugar Cube Corner, the sense of playful joy that had filled that place lingered within her. "Your friend has very powerful magic, Applejack," the alicorn said.

The Earth pony blinked, tilting her head in confusion, "Twilight?"

"My sister's student? I suppose she does," Luna replied, "But I was talking about the baker."

"Pinkie Pie? Uh, Luna, you do know that Pinkie's an Earth pony, right? She ain't got no magic," Applejack chuckled, "Leastways, no more than I have, and I ain't noticed any parts of me glowin' or things around levitatin' or nothin'." 

The princess shook her head, "All ponies have magic, Applejack. Unicorns have one kind, but only the most obvious. Pegasi have their own power, to touch the weather and bend it to their design, and to allow them to fly. The wings alone could not hold a pony aloft; it is magic that allows that. Only the most powerful of unicorns can hope to replicate, even for a short while, the gifts granted to a pegasus at birth." She paused.

Applejack took the opportunity to interject, "Pinkie Pie can't fly, neither. Well, except when she has that contraption...."

"Contraption? That lets her fly?" Luna doubted it, but many things could change in a thousand years. She didn't pursue the issue, "In any case, Earth pony magic is nothing so flashy. You were given the most subtle form of it, one that you cannot control, one that can neither be seen nor heard. It is unsurprising that most ponies know nothing about it, though they feel it every day. Earth ponies provide something of themselves to those around them, sharing their greatest advantages with other ponies. In such a way, an Earth pony can become, for her colleagues and companions, a fount of cheer and laughter," the princess turned her head to meet Applejack's gaze, "Or of confidence and resolve." 

The farmer looked away. She remained silent, and Luna was content to let the rest of the journey pass quietly. In time, they found themselves once again among the apple orchards. As they passed a familiar clearing, the princess paused, contemplating the basket of apples that she had abandoned that morning. Applejack continued on for a moment, then stopped and turned, "Luna? What're you waitin' on?"

"I just got a good idea for what to do with those apples. Come on, I want to show you!" The princess shouted as she took off running. Applejack angled her head to keep the wind from taking her hat and followed, remaining just behind the alicorn. Eventually, Luna slowed to a trot, then stopped when she reached her goal. The basket was right where she remembered. The princess noted with satisfaction that it was still quite full of apples.

Applejack came to a stop beside her, breathing hard. Luna smiled at the Earth Pony, "Watch this." She lowered her head and touched her horn to the apple on top of the pile. A red aura appeared, spreading from the tip down to the apples below.  The fruit on top began to glow a brilliant red, and one by one the others lit up, dozens of them, in orange, yellow, green, blue, and deepest violet. Applejack squinted and turned her head, protecting her eyes from the overwhelming light. With a satisfied nod, Luna turned away from her work, lowered her front, and kicked her target high into the air.

The basket flew in a lazy arc, spreading a cloud of glowing apples across the sky. The container dropped gracelessly after the apex, falling to the ground, but the fruit seemed to hang in the air before drifting slowly downward. Each time one struck the ground, it bounced in a seemingly random direction, though their paths never took them far from where the basket had landed. The grass beneath them became a prismatic sea of flowing light, its colors ever-shifting as the orbs' complex pattern played out. Applejack fell to her haunches near the edge of the illuminated area. The mare's shadow flickered and danced as the occasional apple passed near her.

Luna smiled. All was going according to plan; she twisted her magic just a bit. One apple detached itself from the crowd and began to float toward Applejack. The farmer's gaze locked on the slow projectile, tracking it as it descended toward her. The orb's orange glow pushed the shadows away from her, its brilliance nearly blinding. She was so entranced by the spectacle that she didn't even try to avoid the fruit. It bounced off the tip of her snout with an audible zap.

There was no force of impact, but the discharge of magic and electricity must have been quite shocking. The princess grinned at her inward pun; the greatest acts required a lot of setup, but they yielded the finest reward, and Luna found herself very pleased with the results thus far. Applejack had not moved save to allow her jaw to drop. She could do nothing more than blink in shock, her eyes crossed as they remained focused on the point of impact.

It was the most ridiculous facial expression that the alicorn had seen in quite a long time. She snorted in amusement, but waited for the real payoff. She knew better than any that the most important part of comedy was....

Applejack turned to look at her, shock and disbelief playing across her face. Just as the Earth pony closed her mouth, preparing to speak, a wave of magic and static washed across her coat, causing each hair to grow several inches and stand on end. A single, confused word emerged from what appeared to be an orange puff-ball wearing a cowboy hat, "What."

...Timing. Luna's shoulders shook; her lips pressed tightly together as she tried in vain to contain her mirth. Then, like a bursting dam, the alicorn's laughter spilled forth, booming in the quiet of the night.

"Did I jus' get pranked!?" Applejack's question only drove the princess to new heights of amusement, and she nodded an affirmative, too busy laughing to speak. "What the hay!" Luna sank to the ground, pounding a hoof into the grass repeatedly. "A whole day with Pinkie Pie with not even a chuckle, and now you're laughin'?" The princess flopped over onto her back, still shaking. "Hush already! It ain't that funny!" Luna shook her head and waved a hoof, and a conjured mirror appeared in front of the Earth pony. The still-bouncing apples provided more than enough illumination to see by. "...Okay, maybe it is that funny. But that don't mean you gotta keep laughin'." Luna ignored her appeal. "Can you at least fix it?" 

The princess subsided into giggles as she undid her act with a fiery flash. The flames consumed the extra hair but left Applejack unharmed and back to her accustomed grooming. The alicorn finally fell silent, but a pleased grin remained on her face as she awaited further commentary from the other mare.

"If you'da told me two months ago that a princess would be playin' tricks on me, I'd'a called you a madmare," the Earth pony said, grinning as she shook her head slowly.

Luna rolled from side to side, freeing her wings from where they had been folded beneath her. She spread them out along the grass, stretching them, and sighed, "I always loved pranks. Before the banishment, humor was my constant and treasured companion. I was known as a trickster, a mischievous foil to my sister's stony seriousness. I'm sure that the capitol has been frightfully dull in my absence, though Celestia seems to have taken up some of the slack, I'm proud to say. I was concerned for her, even when I resented her for what I thought she had," The alicorn's smile slipped a bit, "But now she laughs."

Silence hung between the two ponies for a time. Eventually, Applejack spoke, "I've never heard you laugh before, Luna."

"It has been quite a long time since I have," The princess frowned as her eyes grew unfocused in recollection, "As Nightmare Moon, I laughed only to mock, and I took no true pleasure in it. When you rid me of that part of myself, the jokes and jests and jabs returned, but the joy did not come."

"Until today?" The Earth pony asked.Pink

"Until very recently." The alicorn replied, gaze locked on the stars above.

Applejack smiled, "So now you can laugh?"

"So it would seem."

The farmer began to walk toward where the princess rested, "I reckon I need to get you back for that prank you just pulled."

The princess looked at her, raising an eyebrow, "And how do you plan to do that?"

Applejack stopped just beside where Luna lay, and she leaned forward to loom over the princess, a wicked grin spread wide across her face, "Bad jokes, of course," the alicorn blinked in confusion as the Earth pony continued, "What do you say when a dog runs away?"

"What?" Luna asked, more out of confusion about Applejack's way of getting her back than as a response to the joke.

"Dog-gone!"

"That was a terrible joke!" the princess managed, her laughter giving lie to her assertion.

The farmer scoffed, "You ain't heard terrible yet. Did you hear about the fire at the circus?"

Luna shook her head, eyes wide in a silent plea for mercy.

"It was in tents!"

The alicorn managed to laugh and groan simultaneously.

Applejack managed to look more and more pleased with herself with each joke, "What did the apple say to the carrot?"

"Was it 'my farmer is a sadist'?"

The Earth pony ignored Luna's jab, "Nothing... apples don't talk!"

The princess covered her eyes with a foreleg and tried to keep her mouth closed. She hoped that the other mare would mistake the shaking of her shoulders for something other than repressed amusement.

The farmer's voice lit up with excitement, "Oh! Here's one that you should know the answer to, Luna: how does a stallion on the moon keep his mane short?"

"Please don't tell me."

"Eclipse it, o'course," the Earth pony said with a satisfied nod.

Luna curled into a ball and rolled over, her sides shaking, "Such awful puns. Why am I laughing!?"

"Because I'm... uh... what was it... oh right, I'm wreakin' horrible vengeance upon you. And now for the final blow!" Applejack paused for effect, "Clop clop!"

The princess looked up at her tormentor in stunned disbelief. That joke form had been begging for a merciful death since long before her imprisonment on the moon.

The Earth pony's brow furrowed and mock impatience filled her voice, "I said 'clop clop'! I know you know the response, I can see it in your eyes. Clop. Clop."

Luna, resigned to her fate, responded, "Who's there?"

Applejack uttered a single, grave syllable, "Ya."

With a sigh and a shake of her head, the princess said, "Ya who?" and winced in anticipation.

"Don't go cheerin' yet, I ain't even finished with the joke!"

Luna went limp on the ground, "I think that one actually killed me. Is this what death feels like?"

Applejack put a hoof on the alicorn's shoulder and puffed out her chest in a triumphant pose, "I've slain the prankster. My vengeance... uh... I got it. Got vengeance. Is that right? Whatever."

The princess chuckled appreciatively, "You have great delivery; why don't you tell good jokes instead of using your powers for evil?"

"'Cause I learn most of my jokes from Pinkie Pie. And they don't got to be good, sugar cube. You just gotta laugh. I like when you laugh; you should do it more."

Luna smiled up at Applejack. "I should."

Sugar cube... she could get used to that.
> Chapter 4: Generosity
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight sighed. Another night, another pile of ash upon her desk. She wondered idly if she would ever have the courage to send one of her letters to the princess. The thought of how Celestia might respond filled the unicorn with fear. The possibility that Celestia might not respond at all? That filled her with absolute terror. Ever-present panic tainted her writing; the words came forth twisted and malformed, anguish in ink spilled out across a page. They carried a truth too weighty to ignore and too devastating to acknowledge. Fire was Twilight Sparkle's only defense against them.

Twelve gritty grey hills. Had it really been less than two weeks? It felt like an eternity.

Her nightly ritual complete, for good or ill, Twilight retreated to the words of others. They were a cold comfort, but one of the few that she allowed herself. Research and studying seemed pointless to her now, but she continued by rote, hoping that the once-pleasing actions would bring her at least an echo of the joy of her past. She'd had no success, but she couldn't bring herself to stop trying. The writing drowned out the words inside of her, words that formed a darker narrative than any she kept in her library.

This time, she selected her most treasured tome: The Journal of Heavens Sparkle. It was a family heirloom, indescribably ancient, its pages preserved by magic and the care of generations of loving hooves. Despite the title's claim, it was clearly a work of poetry.

A journal was meant to deal with the mundane, but Heavens' writing touched only upon the extraordinary. It spoke of fortunes gained and lost, star-crossed lovers fighting futile battles against capricious fate, bloody feuds begun over trifles, and the reconciliation of mortal enemies. Passages told of children that were born, grew into their own, and died in their parents' hooves, of the pain of burying one's mate, of lost opportunities and failed ventures, of confusion and despair. The work was often grim, but for all the tome's tragedy, there was also joy. Twilight could practically feel wind beneath phantom wings as Heavens described the exhilaration and freedom of soaring amongst the clouds, and she nodded in recognition as she read a page describing the heady rush of bending powerful magic to one's will. There were treasured friends and moments of triumph, and all throughout, even in the darkest sections, there was an undeniable, infectious zest for life. 

Her ancestor must have had quite an imagination; if the journal were to be believed, he'd experienced more than any dozen unicorns of Canterlot. Twilight Sparkle lost herself in another life, and, for a time, forgot her pain.





***




Rarity opened the door of her boutique and was greeted by a familiar sight: Pinkie Pie waiting outside, positively beaming with enthusiasm. The pink mare clutched a small, black paper in her mouth; it was undoubtedly a party invitation. Eyes pleading, the Earth pony leaned forward, humming insistently. The unicorn smiled and greeted her friend with a, "Good morning, Pinkie Pie. How do you do?" as she levitated the item out of Pinkie's toothy grasp.

She was rewarded, by some loose definition of the term, with an explosion of speech, "Hi Rarity! You're invited to a party! A super-duper fun birthday party with balloon animals and cake and candles and balloon animals. It's for Luna! She's turning...," Pinkie Pie paused, bringing a hoof up to her chin as her face contorted with thought, "She's turning a lot. She's really old. But don't tell her I said that, okay?"

"Oh. Well. Alright, then," Rarity stared at the pink pony, who gazed back expectantly. It was far too early for this; what a week to give up coffee!

"Well?" The pink menace asked, drawing the word out.

"Well what, Pinkie!?" Rarity snapped.

If the other pony noticed the shortness of the designer's demeanour, she did not show it. If anything, her grin grew wider, "Aren't you going to look at the invitation?"

Rarity sighed. "Of course, dear. Sorry for that... unpleasantness." Too early for this by half. She looked down at the card that had been presented to her. It was black. A perfect, featureless black. She looked up at Pinkie Pie.

"Other side."

The unicorn flipped the card. The back was black. A perfect, featureless black. She shot a long-suffering glare at her tormentor, who merely waved a hoof at her with a giggle. 

"No, silly, the other other side."

"Pinkie, there are on-"

"Do it!" the pink mare interrupted. 

Rarity reluctantly indulged her friend, wondering where the prank was going. On what she could have sworn was the first side, there was a single full moon in the center of the card. She looked up, brows furrowed.

Pinkie Pie just nodded toward the card, "Wait for it...."

A vertical line cut the moon in two, and the halves began to drift away from each other. The one on the right began to wax, growing as it neared the edge of the card, while the other waned, traveling to the left. In the space between, stars appeared, slowly at first, then more quickly. When the tiny sliver of a crescent disappeared and the full moon passed beyond the far reaches of the invitation, the stars had formed words. Rarity read aloud, "You are cordially invited to the birthday party of Luna, to be held in six days' time at Sweet Apple Acres. Please arrive at dusk. Do not bring gifts; your presence is the greatest gift that I could ever hope to receive."

With a quiet pop, the invitation turned into an apple. Rarity blinked. Far, far too early for this. She managed to smile at Pinkie Pie, "Thank you for giving me this, darling. I assume that you have more to deliver, so I'll leave you to it." She began to close the door, hoping that she'd be safe if she didn't make any sudden movements.

"Hey!" the Earth pony shouted, thrusting a hoof into the path of the door. Rarity was overcome by a sense of dread.

Pinkie Pie smiled sheepishly and pointed at the floating fruit that had taken the place of the invitation, "Um... are you gonna eat that?"





***





For the second time that day, Rarity opened her door. It was a much more civilized hour, a morning of needlework had driven away the last remnants of sleep, and the mare finally felt herself ready to face the day. A wide-brimmed sun hat shaded the unicorn's eyes, protecting her from the afternoon glare. Locking up the shop behind her, she set out toward her favorite weekly treat at a brisk yet dignified trot. It certainly wouldn't do to keep Fluttershy waiting.

Rarity slowed to a leisurely walk as she neared her destination. The sweeping pink roof set her favorite building apart from the shops and homes of Ponyville. She could practically feel herself relaxing already, just from proximity to the blessed place. She pushed open the door and stepped inside, ready to greet her friend and gush about how much she had needed their weekly spa treatment.

The words died on her lips. Where she had expected to see a yellow pegasus, there sat instead another pony, one only slightly less familiar. Rarity's eyes quickly took in the wings and horn, the crown and night-blue coat. Though she could not manage to form a coherent thought through her shock, well-practiced etiquette saved the unicorn from embarrassing herself. She dropped into a precise bow, removing her hat with levitation, and managed to say something resembling correct words, "I am at your service, Your Grace."

"Thank you for the offer; it is generous, just as I would expect from you, but I believe I have things well in hoof. Your service simply won't be necessary," Luna said. The prostrate mare tried to determine what the appropriate response would be to such a dismissal. Was the princess being rude? Was it deliberate or not? Rarity should have known that she'd run into the alicorn at some point; she wished that she'd tried to get more information from Fluttershy. Where was that pegasus, anyway?

Rarity's train of thought was thoroughly derailed by an insistent cough from the princess. She glanced up to see the other mare looking down at her with a raised eyebrow and a wry grin. Luna spoke, "You can stop bowing now."

The unicorn blinked and was still for a second before her eyes widened and she scrambled to her hooves. She laughed nervously, "Of course, princess Luna, I'm sorry. I just... wasn't expecting to see you. Here. Now. Not that I mind!"

"Ah, yes," Luna nodded, "I suppose this would be a surprise. I was visiting our kind friend this morning and happened to mention wanting to speak with you. She offered to let me take her place at your weekly spa session. I didn't want to intrude, but she was insistent," the alicorn paused for a moment, smiling, "Well, as insistent as she ever seems to get. I regret not informing you ahead of time, but I wanted any discussion to take place in a relaxed atmosphere. In any case, I'm quite looking forward to it; this sort of thing was just catching on a thousand years ago, and I never got around to trying it out. I hope you don't mind."

As soon as the information sunk in, Rarity beamed. A day at the spa with a princess? Fluttershy knew her too well; she'd be impressing Canterlot nobles for months with this story; nopony outside of Ponyville knew about the whole Nightmare Moon fiasco, after all. Luna was just another princess to them; a new one, and not as prestigious as Celestia, of course, but still a princess. "Why, I don't mind at all, princess Luna. It would be an honor to accompany you."

"Please, I prefer not to use my title. Just 'Luna' will suffice. So... um... how does it all work? What do I have to do?" The alicorn asked, looking around. She didn't seem quite aware of the fact that they were in the waiting room, rather than the spa proper.

Rarity hung her still-levitating hat on a convenient rack. "Don't you worry, pr- Luna," she said, "Aloe and Lotus will take care of everything. Just relax, go where they point, and let them work. Lotus!" the unicorn called to the blue Earth pony stationed at front desk, "The usual for me, and the full treatment for Princess Luna."

"It would be our pleasure," the spa pony replied as she ushered them through the inner door.




***




Aloe poured water on the rocks of the sauna. The customers spoke as though she weren't there, just like they always did. So much the better.

"So, Luna, what do you do to keep your mane in such amazing shape? Is there some spell?" Rarity asked, leaning toward the princess. The spa pony hoped not; such a thing could be bad for business.

"I don't really do anything to it," Luna said.

"Just basic washing and brushing?" The unicorn asked. Aloe knew her customer well enough to hear the hidden disdain behind the words. She created a bit more steam and took the opportunity to get a closer look at the alicorn's mane. The pink mare didn't know what Rarity's problem was; whatever the regimen, it was clearly working for the princess.

Luna let out a weak chuckle, "Not exactly. Why do you ask, in any case?"

"How could I not be curious, darling?!" Rarity gushed, "Your mane, your tail, your coat, your hooves, everything! They're all perfect. Not 'the stylist just finished' perfect, either. Truly flawless. It's like...," Rarity tapped a hoof against her chin, lost in thought for a few seconds, then brightened, "It's like you're some figure of ideal beauty, and everypony else is just a flawed copy." The unicorn frowned, seeming to consider what she'd just said. 

The alicorn's ears folded back, and she looked away as she mumbled, "That's an... interesting... comparison."

The spa pony didn't allow her customers to dwell on that subject for long. She coughed lightly and gestured for the pair to follow her. It was time for facial treatments. Rarity took the opportunity to inform the princess of her own grooming practices. Aloe was quite familiar with the dissertation; it was the unicorn's favorite topic of conversation, at least when she met someone new at the spa. By the time they met Lotus in the appropriate room, the designer was just warming up to her customary script.

Luna was silent as she followed Rarity's lead and climbed on to one of the room's seats. Aloe moved quickly to the alicorn's side and began to prepare the mud mask. The customers, lost in their own little customer world, didn't notice the jealous scowl that Lotus shot the other spa pony, or the pink mare's wink in response. The princess was Aloe's customer; she'd won the coin toss fair and square. It wasn't her fault that her sister wasn't very lucky. And if she happened to get offered a position in the palace, well...

Aloe shook her head. She'd have to actually impress her customer first. As her sister applied Rarity's mask, she dipped her own brush in the bucket of green muck and got to work on Luna's face. A few expert movements, and the substance was fully applied. The Earth pony smiled with satisfaction at her work.

The mud mask slid off the princess, impacting the floor with a loud 'splat'.

Rarity's droning voice continued unabated.

Aloe gaped at the perfectly clean face of the princess, who was busy gaping at the mess on the floor. Lotus snickered. Luna looked at the green-coated face of Rarity, who was still quite oblivious, then at the pile of mud in front of her. Her eyes widened. "Oh. I see. Well," she whispered to the mare attending her with a sheepish smile, "care to try again? It'll stick this time." 

It did, much to the Aloe's relief. She applied the cucumbers without incident. The spa pony let out a breath that she hadn't realized she was holding. 

Lotus stuck her tongue out at her sister, who responded with a very rude hoof gesture. Luna giggled. The spa ponies blinked at the princess, whose eyes were still covered by the vegetable slices. Rarity stopped in the middle of itemizing the benefits of different brands of conditioner to ask, "Is something amusing, Luna?"

"It's nothing. Please, you were saying...?" the princess replied.

The unicorn continued, and the earth ponies shrugged at each other. Aloe opened a drawer and selected from among a line of metal files. Her alicorn customer's horn had an intriguing texture, but smooth horns were very much in fashion. She didn't know how soft the dark spike of the princess was, so she started with a fine grain. With a whispered, "Hold still please, your majesty," she steadied the tool against her teeth and began to lightly file at the regal horn. After a few moments, she stepped back to examine the progress.

Aloe blinked. There was no progress; the horn looked no different from before. She frowned and switched to a rougher file, taking longer, more deliberate strokes. It didn't help. The surface appeared untouched. She attacked again with renewed vigor, shaking her head to scrape more quickly. After a minute's work, she had made no mark. The spa pony frowned.

Sticking her head deep within her file drawer, the pink mare retrieved her most impressive implement of horn-removal. The huge tool had come with the set, but she didn't think it was intended for ponies. Perhaps rocks. She'd certainly never used it before; the wicked spikes that studded the business end of the file gleamed, good as new. Aloe wondered if the implement was covered by weapons laws.

Lotus had long since finished the touch-up of Rarity's horn. Her jaw dropped when she saw what her sister was doing. Aloe may have let her composure slip a bit, but she knew horns better than just about any unicorn, and the Earth pony wasn't about to let this one get the better of her. She drew her new implement across the alicorn's spike in a stroke that would have ground half the length off of most unicorns. 

Aloe's effort left not even a single scratch. The texture was unchanged. The force hadn't even tilted the dark mare's head.

Luna whispered, "What are you trying to do, anyway?"

Aloe struggled to keep her voice composed, "Just filing your horn smooth, princess. That's the preferred style, currently."

"Oh," the princess replied with a wry smile, "Well, good job then. Thank you."

The spa pony frowned, and glanced at the alicorn's forehead. Sometime in the few seconds she had spent looking away, the horn had become perfectly smooth. Aloe felt her eyelid twitch, just a bit. 




***




Rarity paused mid-word.  Had she just spent the last half hour telling a princess about how she maintained her appearance? The unicorn was neck-deep in a mud bath, wrapped from head to hoof in seaweed, in the same room as one of the goddesses of ponykind, and could think of nothing better to do than ramble about pedicures. It was ridiculous. She'd allowed her nerves to get the best of her.

After a few seconds of silence, Luna spoke, "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, certainly not. Just a moment, please," the unicorn replied. She took a deep breath and collected her thoughts; it wasn't too late to salvage this spa trip, and keep the princess from remembering her as a beauty-obsessed dimwit. She certainly would prefer to be known as a beauty-obsessed genius, but at this point she would settle for 'halfway competent'. No more lecturing Luna on hoof care. Time for business. Or at least a segue into it. "So, princess Luna, are you enjoying the spa?"

"Very much so. But please, call me Luna. Just Luna."

Rarity's brows furrowed behind her cucumber slices, "I'm sorry. I don't intend to say your title. It's an instinct. It's just proper courtesy. And if I'm anything, it's courteous," she paused, "If you don't mind my asking, why do you take exception to it? The title is yours by right, if I understand correctly."

The unicorn heard a soft sigh from the other mud bath. "I suppose so. Technically. But I don't see the need for formality. Royal titles are symbols of authority. I'm keenly aware of my power over ponies; I don't need to be reminded."

Rarity stirred the mud with a hoof. "Have you ever considered... that it might not be for your benefit that ponies bow to you and call you princess?"

Something shifted in the other bath. "What do you mean?" the alicorn asked.

The unicorn hesitated. "Did you have... parents?" it was a personal question, but necessary. She just hoped that she wasn't overstepping her bounds.

"No. Nothing like that."

Rarity's nerves began to return. She knew many religious ponies who would give much to be in her position right now, learning at least a small part of the history of one of their goddesses. Straight from the horse's mouth, as it were. She resolved not to squander the opportunity. "What about princess Celestia? Did she guide you, raise you when you were young?"

The princess was silent for a time. Eventually, the reply came, "We were wary of each other, in the beginning. The first time we saw each other, we both turned tail and fled. Something that moved against the laws of flow? Something I could not examine, could not shape, could not bend to my will with magic? It was terrifying. I'm sure she felt the same way. I avoided her; it wasn't difficult. We each preferred our own half of Equestria anyway," The alicorn sighed, "And so I spent my first few hundred million years alone, building monuments in ice and forcing the light of the ever-present stars to dance for my amusement. As for my sister...," mirth entered Luna's voice, "Perhaps she simply spent the millennia swimming in the lava flows of her sun-baked side of the world. I've never asked. So no, she did not raise me. We each grew up on our own, and became very different ponies."

Rarity did her best to commit Luna's words to memory precisely as she heard them. To her knowledge, no record of history mentioned any events prior to Nightmare Moon's banishment. Stubborn seclusion or not, Twilight Sparkle would want to know about the account. Still, that wasn't the reason for her question, "I see, your majesty. Then it's no wonder that you don't understand. I suppose it simply requires a mortal perspective. You never had anypony to look up to, to show you the way through a world beyond your understanding, to protect you when you were in danger, and reassure you when you were afraid. The very young have parents and, to their perception, mother and father are giants, able to complete the inconceivable tasks of cooking food and reading books, strong enough to drive away the monsters in the closet. Power in the hooves of those trusted ponies makes a foal feel safe. It's a grim revelation, however necessary, when a filly realizes that her parents are not all-powerful. That they can fail. That they grow tired, that they are not all-knowing, that they are sometimes horribly, horribly wrong."

The unicorn paused, and when she continued, her voice trembled, "It is a tragedy of the highest order if a filly finds that her parents, those charged with her care, are working against her. The cri du cœur is beyond description. But even when it's interrupted, by failure or betrayal, the desire for somepony to look up to does not go away; it merely settles on a new object: A celebrity, a character in a book, a teacher...," her voice dropped to a whisper, "...an older sister."

The room was silent. Luna waited, and soon enough, Rarity continued, "This world needs heroes, princess. Doers of great deeds and thinkers of great thoughts. Ponies worth looking up to. Ponies held to a higher standard. Ponies that can be relied upon, when the world turns to them for guidance. Who do adults look to when there is uncertainty, crisis, conflict? When there are problems too large for one pony to understand, let alone solve? We look to the leaders. Noblesse oblige; the power of those in positions of authority comes with a responsibility to work for the benefit of all below. There is one who has the more authority than any other. Above all, we look to our ruler. Princess Celestia has done as much good with her mere presence as she has with her policies. I believe that she understands the importance of appearance. Everypony in Equestria knows in their heart that there is a pony in Canterlot, wise and capable beyond mortal bounds, who will make the decisions that need to be made to keep everypony safe and prosperous. They just know that their princess will not fail them,

"Whether or not it's true," Rarity added.

The unicorn took a deep breath, and released it slowly. "Thanks to princess Celestia, the people of our nation still view the world like foals. We have not experienced the wars of succession of the gryphon monarchy, the tyranny of the zebra khans, the petty greed of the dragon lords. We still believe that our leader could never fail us. It's an innocence worth preserving, even among those of us who know better. And so appearances absolutely must be maintained. Is it necessary to have titles and guards and a throne in a palace in Canterlot? The princess could rule with as much justice and wisdom from the floor of a wooden cabin as she does from her seat in the capital, so why have it? One reason.

"Prestige. Prestige is simply essential. The fact that our leader is kind and powerful and reliable means little if nopony believes it so. Everypony does what is expected, pays the proper respect and follows the essential protocol, because appearance is very nearly as important as reality. It is not princess Celestia's power or wisdom or purity that allows many to believe in her, it is the fact that everypony knows that she is powerful and wise and pure. Bowing and titles are a small part of that, but an important part nonetheless. I call you princess not to serve your ego, but to remind myself that there is a princess. That there is somepony I can look up to. Somepony greater than myself. Ceremony instills confidence, and repetition reinforces faith.

"And so we arrive at your reason for coming. Fluttershy didn't tell me much, but she did say that you came to her asking for trust and forgiveness; I assume you want the same from me. Well, you have it. It is a gift, freely given in the knowledge that I've seen you do nothing to earn it. Whether you've earned it or not just does not matter. If you deserve it, then there's no reason to withhold it, and wait for proof. If you don't...," She hesitated for a moment, gathering her composure. "My parents...," Rarity paused, "I have a sister...," Again, the unicorn stopped. After a few seconds she sighed and continued, "Just know that I understand what it's like to be looked up to, to be depended on, by a pony with nowhere else to turn. A pony who has been betrayed by authority. Equestria has nowhere else to turn. Even ignoring all the damage that you could do with your magic, princess Celestia has acknowledged you. If you turned on ponykind again, our faith in our ruler would be shattered. It would be an end to innocence, and we would simply not be the same, after. Those sorts of wounds take centuries to heal.

"So if you don't deserve my trust, my forgiveness... it just doesn't matter. The possibility that you might work against me is simply too terrible to contemplate. I must have faith, or I will have no hope. C'est tout. Does that answer satisfy you, Luna?"

The alicorn responded in a voice far deeper and more resonant than the one she had used just minutes before, "It does, but I would appreciate it if you were to refer to me by title, from now on."

Rarity smiled. "As you wish, Your Grace."




***




A pony watched as lights danced on the surface of water. Their dim glow did nothing to illuminate the inky blackness beyond the pool's edge; scrying was preformed in the dark. He did not remember whether the darkness was necessary for the spell or merely a choice, but he didn't feel the need to change his routine. Just as he always had, he stirred the liquid with a hoof, and an image began to form.

The pony monitored Ponyville closely due to its position between his realm and the capitol. If Celestia were to come for him, he needed forewarning, but he dared not scry Canterlot directly. Any misstep might remind that goddess of his presence, and cause her to act. That outcome was to be avoided at all costs. He contented himself with those happenings of note that occurred a safe distance from the sun palace. 

On the morning of the Summer Sun Celebration, he'd witnessed quite an impressive event. Luna had returned, the only being that he hated more than her sister. Six representatives of the incomplete breeds of ponies had called on a powerful magic. It was a magic of which he could find no mention, even in the most ancient of his memoirs. Since then, the pony had thrown caution to the wind, scrying every waking hour to learn what he could of these new players on the stage.

Indistinct shapes whirled in the water before resolving themselves into an image: a purple unicorn mare, writing a letter. The pony at the pool had taken a special interest in the Element of Magic. Unicorns, pegasi, and Earth ponies seemed almost monolithic in their simpering devotion to Celestia. The other five Elements fit that mold perfectly. The foals all trusted their princess, and so she ruled over them. The pony had been down that road before, and found only sorrow there. Sorrow and lessons to be recorded.

But here was none other than a student of one of those accursed goddesses, and she seemed to be teaching herself the lessons, teaching herself to reject the sisters' treachery! The pony smiled. There was promise in that. Perhaps she was worth venturing out for, out beyond his little garden.

Yes, it was finally time to pay a visit to his neighbors in Ponyville. Time to emerge from hiding after all these years. It was time that the other ponies remembered the name of....

Hmm, what was it again? It began with an 'H', right? He tapped a hoof in frustration. It was right on the tip of his tongue. Finally, the pony gave up, and simply lifted a leg and examined the scars, looking for one that was legible.

"Ah, of course. How could I have forgotten? It's been far too long since I've reminded myself."

The pony's horn glowed crimson as he conjured a knife and levitated it slowly toward himself. A glowing white ball appeared before him, its glare casting long shadows on the cave floor; he certainly needed light for this. The pony stretched out a wing and found a spot where the scars were light, nearly faded away after long healing.

The knife worked slowly, and the pain was intense. The alicorn wanted it that way; too quick, too painless, and he would just forget again in a couple of years. Blood dripped, creating a puddle onto which fur and feathers fell, all a uniform scarlet in the harsh light. After a few minutes, he was done, and he banished the knife with a wave of his horn. He watched the blood stream from the wound; it reminded him of who he was, and who his enemies were. 'The goddesses do not bleed.' It was the first and last sentence of every book that he'd written.

He glanced at the pool. The image of the purple pony remained; she had finished her letter, and was burning it, just as she had the past few nights. Apparently, scrying did work in the light. He'd remember that, for a few years at least. Burning the letter... burning... what did that remind him of? Oh, of course.

He conjured flame, and cauterized the wound that he'd made. It was always easiest to read when fresh. On his wing, a new scar was forming, one nearly identical to the hundreds that covered nearly every inch of his body. Each time he had begun to forget their message, he made a new wound. And so, once again, he'd carved his name. A grave name. A name worth remembering by any means necessary. A name with which to defy divinity. He read aloud:

"Ever Free."
> 4th Interlude: Repose
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Are you sure you don't want help with that?" Luna asked, eyeing the bulging saddlebags slung over Applejack's back, "It wouldn't be any trouble."

The Earth pony's reply was muffled, but intelligible; she was busy adjusting the thick leather straps of her burden, "Sure I'm sure! What'd'ya think my kinfolk'd think of me, usin' a princess like a pack mule?"

"I could levitate it." The alicorn offered.

Applejack snorted, "Oh no, missy. You agreed to do this the Earth pony way, and that means no flyin', no teleportin', and definitely no levitatin'. Now we got a schedule to stick to; let's get crackin'. Gotta be off the farm before Pinkie starts settin' up. She's a right hellion if you get in the way of her most important party rule: no birthday fillies allowed before everythin's ready." And with that, she strode off down the path away from Sweet Apple Acres and Ponyville. Morning sun lit a beautiful scene: the narrow road meandered through a large meadow before disappearing behind a small, green hill. Beyond the rise, in the distance, a dark line of rocky mountains loomed. The alicorn smiled in anticipation of a pleasant hike.

The farmer's deliberate steps covered ground with surprising speed; after a few seconds, Luna followed, trotting to catch up before slowing to match her companion's pace. "Do we even need all that stuff? We're only going to be up there one night. A tent makes some sense, though it's not going to rain. And some of the food. But a week's worth? There are streams, I checked; we don't need all that water. And a whistle? Really? "

Applejack did not meet the other mare's questioning gaze; she kept her eyes on the path ahead, walking in silence for a few moments. Her eventual reply was terse, "It's for emergencies."

The princess scoffed, "What could possibly happen that I'd be unable to deal with? I could grow you food in an instant, pull water from the air, summon a cottage if it gets chilly. Dragon attacks? Not likely; they're more afraid of me than I am of them, and for good reason. Land's sakes, Applejack! I can make the mountain grow legs and walk us back to Ponyville if we need it."

"Ha! Land's sakes, y'say?" the orange mare barked, "I'll have you talkin' like a farm filly yet." Her expression hardened as she turned to look at her companion, "But that ain't how Earth ponies deal with emergencies."

"You're just being stubborn."

"No I ain't! I'm bein'...," Applejack paused, "What's a word that means 'stubborn' but doesn't make it sound like I'm bein' stubborn?"

"Steadfast?" Luna suggested.

"I'm bein' steadfast," The farmer said with a nod.

The alicorn sighed. "Fine. But if you get hurt, I'm not going to fiddle around with that first aid kit. You're going find yourself in the hospital before you can say 'Earth ponies don't teleport'."

Applejack smiled and turned her head to meet Luna's gaze. "You gonna be steadfast about that, sugar cube?"

"Of course," the response came with a grin.

"Then I guess I'll just have to appreciate it, won't I?" The Earth pony's eyes returned to the travelers' path. After a moment, her brow furrowed, "But why the hospital? Fluttershy said you put a bird's busted wing back together good as new. Couldn't you just fix me up?"

Luna stopped. Applejack continued for a few moments, then looked over her shoulder. "You comin', sugar cube?"

The princess closed her eyes for a moment. She took a deep breath, then released it in a rush. She galloped forward to close the gap that had grown between the travelers. When the alicorn reached her companion, she looked away, unable to meet the other pony's eyes. She spoke, "My sister and I agreed long ago not to heal any pony, to any degree, for any reason. No exceptions. I'm sorry, Applejack."

"Huh," The Earth pony replied, "That don't sound like the omni-bena-whatever princesses that I know."

"We have our reasons," Luna said.

"Well?" Applejack prompted, impatient.

"Well what?" the other mare replied.

"What are the reasons?"

The question hung in the air. Eventually, Luna whispered, "It's complicated."

The Earth pony tilted her head, "Well, we're gonna be walkin' for the next... hmm... somethin' like twelve hours. I reckon you have time to do some explainin'."

"I'm not going to tell you, Applejack."

"Don't trust me?" The farmer asked with a smile; Luna couldn't tell whether the jestful tone was genuine, or a cover for concern.

"I do trust you, Applejack," the princess insisted, "But I want you to keep trusting me. There are some things that you're better off not knowing, when it comes to my past."

They traveled on in silence, the Earth pony seemingly lost in thought, and the alicorn dreading an inevitable question. After a few minutes, it came as Applejack whispered almost to herself, "I already know about Nightmare Moon; what could be worse than that?"

"I never killed anypony as Nightmare Moon," Luna replied, doing her best to sound dispassionate, "I couldn't bring myself to do so, even then. I put you Elements in danger, but only danger that I knew would not end your lives. I probably would have even have saved you, if there was any real risk. I did what I safely could to delay you, to deter you, to drive you off. But I never wanted death."

Applejack's opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. 

After a second, the princess continued, "You've seen what I can do. Did you think that the power to stop my sister from raising the sun, the power to banish her from Equestria and prevent her return as long as I willed it so, was insufficient to kill six young ponies before they ever laid eyes on that castle?"

"I... reckon not." The Earth pony frowned. After a few seconds she spoke again, "So it was worse than that? Does that mean you..." she gulped, and her voice dropped to a whisper, "Killed somepony?"

"There was a tragedy. I tried to fix it with an atrocity." Luna said.

"Did it work?"

"That's the wrong question, Applejack," the princess replied, eyes distant, "It's more important to ask: 'Was it worth it?'" 

"And?" The Earth pony asked.

The alicorn did not speak. The farmer waited. The path continued, over verdant hills, across crystal clear streams, winding between stands of trees where oak mixed with heath. Bird calls filled the air. The grass lining the path often rustled as creatures unaccustomed to ponykind fled from the travelers, or watched them, curious. It was a beautiful day, and all the living things in Equestria thrived.

In time, the dark mare whispered her reply, "Was it worth it? I wish I knew."

Applejack's next words were far softer than the princess was used to hearing from the farmer, "Whatever you did, Luna, I forgive you."

The alicorn smiled at the Earth pony, looking her in the eyes; Luna saw only trust within the orbs. "You are too quick to forgive, Applejack. It is a most endearing flaw."





***




Conversation turned to more trivial things after that: apples and stars and distant cousins. The two ponies laughed loudly and often, their mirth only growing whenever they startled an animal out of its hiding place. Their way grew more strenuous as they climbed the foothills; even with switchbacks, the way was steep. Luna ended up doing most of the talking as Applejack's breath grew more labored. The Earth pony was unaccustomed to the altitude, but her endurance did not fail her. The farmer needed no breaks before they stopped for lunch in the early afternoon.

The princess guided them to a quiet glen dominated by enormous trees, red barked evergreens that seemed to touch the sky. Applejack dropped her pack and looked upward, struck dumb by the sight. The verdant crowns of the living towers, high above, swayed gently in the breeze. When her gaze dropped once again to ground level, she saw Luna leaned up against the bark of the largest of the lot, a true behemoth. The barn at Sweet Apple Acres could fit comfortably in the trunk.

The farmer called out to the alicorn, "Luna, did you know about these when you planned the trip?"

"Of course I did! This is was one of my favorite places to come for solitude, before my banishment. These hills were the nearest forest to my old castle." Luna nodded toward the trunk supporting her, "I planted this one myself, to even out the shade, though all the trees that were around before seem to have died and been replaced. At least this old friend remains," She turned to grin at Applejack, "It's come a long way in three thousand years. As have I."

The Earth pony rolled her eyes, "To even out the shade, huh? Just a little gardening?"

"Eeyup," the princess replied.

Applejack recoiled, "Oh, not you too. Come on now, Luna, I get enough of that from my big brother, you ought to know better."

The alicorn just chuckled through a satisfied smile.

"Anyway, this was the closest forest? Isn't your castle in the Everfree?" Applejack asked as she began walking toward the princess.

Luna shrugged, "It wasn't anywhere nearby when I was banished. It was small, and distant, and it was home to somepony that my sister and I did not want to have to deal with. It did not grow for thousands of years; I can only hope that its expansion came because the master of that place is gone, one way or another." She sighed, eyes downcast, but brightened when Applejack reached her, "But that depressing subject is of no importance. Come, I have something to show you!" And with that, she rushed off, trotting around the gently curving trunk of the ancient tree.

Applejack struggled to follow, still worn out from the morning's trek, but she burst with new energy as soon as she saw her companion's destination. It was a mountain stream, deep and wide and crystal clear, and it looked so blessedly refreshing. Luna leapt in with a great splash.

The Earth pony hit the water seconds later, and soon found herself fully submerged. The frigid liquid gave her quite a shock, but as the gentle current pressed at her side, the chill across her overworked legs felt incredible. After a few moments, she surfaced with an excited exclamation of, "Yeehaw!"

The woods were silent. Applejack didn't see Luna in the water. She glanced at the shores, but there was very little undergrowth in the shadows of the massive trunks. Certainly not enough to hide the princess. She blinked, confused, and tried to spot any sign of her companion. For a few seconds there was nothing, but soon the orange mare spotted movement in the corner of her eye. A little triangle of ripples spread from the night-blue tip of a distinctive unicorn horn, poking just above the waterline.

Applejack smiled to herself. She wondered what the alicorn was doing, but not enough to interrupt and find out. The movement got closer, approaching slowly from her side; impressively, the advance was completely silent. The Earth pony just waited. 

When Luna got within a few feet of the farmer, she burst forth from the stream, wings spread wide and forelegs raised, with a prodigious splash and a loud but unconvincing, "Rar!" Applejack's eyes widened, more surprised by how far out of the water the princess got than by the act itself. The dark mare seemed to hang above her for a full second before crashing down to grab the Earth pony and drag her beneath the ensuing waves.

The ponies surfaced laughing. Applejack laughed all the harder when she saw that her hat had ended up hanging on Luna's horn, and had fallen forward to cover the princess's eyes. 

The alicorn, for her part, turned her head to face an area of the stream far from the Earth pony, and pointed menacingly with a hoof at nothing in particular, "Ha ha! Now you have felt the wrath of Nightmare Stream! I am queen of this place and all that is chilly and flowing! It is customary to bow, but exceptions can be made for those without gills. I demand service of you, newcomer, if you wish to remain in my realm."

"What do I -" Applejack suppressed another bout of laughter, "got to do?"

Luna flapped her wings, rising to hover above the water. "First, you must wait here while I get apples out of the saddlebags. Then, you will wash the apples in the stream. And finally," the alicorn burst into an over-exaggerated melodramatic cackle before continuing, "We will eat the apples. Nefariously!"

"Whatever that means," The Earth pony replied. The princess flew off, managing to avoid running into the trees despite the continued obstruction of her vision. Applejack called out after her, "Make sure you leave my pap- my hat by the saddlebags! I don't wanna lose it!"

Nightmare Stream soon returned with apples, and the traveling companions enjoyed their lunch in the shallows. In time, Applejack left the water, rested and ready to continue the journey. 




*** 




They ended their journey on top of the world. The air was thin at that altitude, and cold, but there was a sharp freshness to it; it carried none of the scent of farms and bakeries of Ponyville, none of the ozone tinge that lingered in the magicians' playground of Canterlot. It reminded Luna of years long past, before her sister had brought other intelligences into being, when it was just the two of them, playing with a new toy that they now called 'life'. 

There was precious little of that around: just the occasional stunted evergreen, twisted by storms and harsh climate, and a few sparse tufts of grass. The plants clung tenaciously to cracks in the bare granite. It was stark. It was remote. It was desolate.

It was beautiful; a stark beauty, but Luna appreciated it all the same. A depression in the rock held a small lake, and the ever-present wind kicked up ripples in the water, ripples that caught the fiery light of the setting sun and shone like burnished gold. It danced, and the alicorn was compelled to watch.

Applejack stood beside her, speechless.

In time, the show ended. The sun could no longer reach the heights, and Luna turned, walking to a smooth stretch that overlooked a cliff. She lowered herself, folding her legs beneath her body, and her companion followed, lying just at her side. Together, they watched as the line of sunlight swept down the mountain and over the foothills, racing away to escape the coming night. 

Luna raised the moon. Her horn did not glow, but the Earth pony did not comment. The princess spoke, for the first time in an hour, "Now, Applejack, you will see my night in all its glory." Hearing no response, the alicorn looked to her companion, then smiled to herself, whispering, "Another time, then." There would be other nights, for that.

Applejack's head had fallen forward to rest on her foreleg, and her sides grew and shrank in the slow, steady rhythm of deep sleep. Her hat had fallen off, and laid on the ground in front of her, shifting slightly in the evening breeze. It had been a long day, and the princess knew that the farmer had earned her rest. 

Luna levitated the farmer's hat, placing it on her own head, its brim resting lightly on her horn; it was precious to Applejack, she couldn't risk it blowing off the cliff. A bit of magic, and the wind parted around the ponies, leaving them in a pocket of warm, still air. It would do for a tent, though the princess suspected that the other mare would object to the arrangement in the morning. It was not, after all, the Earth pony way of camping out. 

She'd risk it.

The princess looked once again to her companion. The farmer looked so peaceful, content. Luna shifted closer, until their bodies touched; she could feel the slow rhythm of Applejack's breath.

It was then that the alicorn realized that the wind had come back. The grass was still, Applejack's hair was still, even her own coat was motionless, untouched by the breeze, but the soft tug of moving air remained on Luna's mane and tail. She looked over her shoulder, and softly gasped.

Her tail had changed. A stripe of its normal color was flanked by other stripes, blues of ice and midnight; the colors did not mix, even as the sourceless wind caused the hair to slowly sway in a wavy dance. She knew that her mane was now the same. The last time her physical form changed was when she'd become Nightmare Moon, but she could not bring herself to worry. She did not feel the desperate longing that brought that insanity upon her, only peace and joy. It didn't feel dangerous, just somehow right. The alicorn curled around Applejack, resting her head on the other mare's neck. She laid a wing protectively over the Earth pony's sleeping form. 

Luna, for the first time in all her years of life, went to sleep.

She dreamed of apples. 

> Chapter 5: Loyalty
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rainbow Dash knocked on the library door. She was disappointed, but not surprised, when Spike opened it.

The dragonling sighed, shaking his head, "Sorry Dash, same as yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that. And-,"

"I get it," the pegasus interjected, "She's still up there. Did she at least say anything?"

The response came in a dejected monotone, "Nope. Nothing. It's like..." Spike paused, turning to look at the stairs to Twilight's room, then stepped outside. He pulled the door closed behind him. "Look Dash, I'm scared. I think something might have happened with the princess. The first night she locked herself up there, I tried to write to the princess about it, but the reply was something like," Spike adopted a faux-regal tone, "'Twilight Sparkle deserves to decide her own fate. I've meddled enough.' And that's all! I sent a few other letters, but I haven't heard from Celestia since."

"Do you think Nightmare Moon got princess Celestia?" The pony asked, sounding almost hopeful. The dragon merely pointed a claw at the midday sun, his face set disapprovingly. Rainbow Dash deflated. "I know, I know. But I'd rather fight something that has a face to buck."

"Dash...," Spike looked hesitant to continue, but the words came regardless, "The others have been coming too. They told me a lot about what Luna's been doing, how she acts, that stuff. It just... it doesn't seem like she's bad. I don't think she's here for revenge. Maybe... maybe you and Twilight were wrong about her." He winced, awaiting her reply.

The pegasus just sighed. "I know, Spike. Luna does seem different. I can't imagine Nightmare Moon going all frou-frou at a spa with Rarity or eating apples on some bumpkin's farm." She paused, then blinked, "Don't tell Applejack I said that. Anyway. Even if that's how it is... I want to trust Twilight. She's the one that saved our rosswursts the last time Luna showed up. I'm just not so sure anymore."

"Me too, Dash. I just don't know how to help her." The dragon leaned his head against the door, looking toward the sky, then added in a whisper, "Sometimes, when I wake up in the middle of the night, I can hear her crying up there."

Feeling painfully awkward, Rainbow Dash patted Spike on the shoulder with a hoof. It wasn't generally in her nature to be comforting, but she was there, and nopony else was. She just hoped that there wasn't anypony looking. "It'll be okay, little dude. Twilight is a smart mare, and she has good friends looking out for her. Good friends like you and me. She'll get through this. I'll make sure she gets through."

"I really hope so, Dash. I really do."




* * *




Rainbow Dash's body lay under her cloud sheets, on her cloud bed, in her cloud house. Her head? Well, it was also in the clouds.

She considered, once again, the upcoming birthday. It was her only hope of breaking Twilight's solitude. Time spent with good friends. The party would help.

The party had to help.

Just one more day.

Luna was not a threat; she owed the alicorn an apology. Rainbow Dash was not a subtle pony, but it constantly surprised her how little attention the ground-based ponies paid to a stray cloud hovering above them. Even Luna rarely looked up, except at night. Two weeks of surveillance, and the princess hadn't done anything more evil than a harmless prank. Applejack was right, as much as she hated admitting it. That sort of thing always hit her right where it hurt most: in the pride.

The pegasus would make it up to them! Her friends had spent the past few days on two plans. The first, of course, was for the party, and other was for getting Twilight and her to meet with Luna on civil terms. They hadn't come up with much for that second one, of course. Rainbow Dash couldn't wait to see the looks on their faces when she crashed the party, Twilight in tow, ready to apologize and help convince the unicorn.

Priceless!

The only problem was getting the librarian to go. She could easily get into the upper floors of the library; what's a window between friends? The convincing, on the other hoof... Rainbow Dash had never been a particularly persuasive pony. She supposed that she could just tell the other mare that she was needed so that they could use the Elements against Luna. That would take advantage of the unicorn's pride. It was a bit of a risk, but that appealed to Rainbow Dash; what's life away from the edge?

By that time the next night, their group would be back together. No more having to take sides against one friend or another. Loyalty to one wouldn't feel like betrayal of the rest. They could all stick together. Just one... big... happy....

Rainbow Dash drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.




* * *




Twilight Sparkle closed her book with a heavy sigh. She stared at the cover of The Journal of Heavens Sparkle; gilding in the shape of a rose shone, dominating the surface. It was as beautiful as the first time she'd laid eyes on it. If she were to flip the tome over, the librarian knew, there would be a five-pointed star of the same smooth gold. She studied the curving lines of the stylized flower; the sensory focus helped her avoid thinking about the next few pages of the Journal, the final section of the work.

But it didn't help much.

The passage she'd just read, the beginning of the end, had always been a favorite of hers. The first time she'd seen it, she had thought of it as a deep and beautiful metaphor for a meteor shower. It spoke of seeing the shimmering tears of the moon falling, a torrent of profound sorrow. Heavens Sparkle had asked the moon what it mourned, and received no answer. He had concluded that it was a pain too great for him to bear, else the moon would have shared its burden. She'd always found it to be a potent metaphor.

Twilight had thought of it as allegory. She'd only come to that conclusion because her father had told her that 'Luna' was what Heavens called the moon.

Now she knew better.

Taken literally, she would have expected the passage to come from just over a thousand years before, from the alicorn's fall toward Nightmare Moon. That could not be the case; her father considered it a point of pride that the Sparkle line traced its ancestry back five thousand years - to Heavens Sparkle's grandson, the first pony to receive his Journal. She wondered what that could mean; was Luna falling into despair four thousand years before her banishment? She wondered if the journal was younger than it seemed. She wondered if there were any other passages she'd misinterpreted. She wondered...

She wondered what that sound was. That tapping. It was coming from the glass doors to the balcony. She hoped that it wasn't Rainbow Dash again; it seemed unlikely, so late at night. She climbed the steps slowly as the noise continued. It had a light, even rhythm.

The lantern light did not reach far, so the unicorn could only see a shadowy figure, through the glass. A figure nearly twice her height, with wings and a horn. Her eyes widened, and she dared to hope for a moment.

A light appeared above the figure's head, and made clear that it was not Celestia who had come. Twilight could see why she had been confused: the pony was an alicorn that matched the size and rough shape of the elder princess. Unfortunately, that was where the similarities ended.

The alicorn's square jaw and bulky frame marked him as male. He was red. Coat, mane, tail, feathers, horn, all the deep red of fresh blood. Where the princess had a long, thick mane that seemed to flow in an unceasing ethereal wind, he had a short-cropped mop, frayed and mundane. His fetlocks were not maintained; they fell almost to the ground, over unshod hooves. His feathers stuck out at all angles, and his coat...

His coat was covered with scars, countless old wounds on every surface, from his flank to his face. Most looked very old, and some had almost healed, but there was one on a wing that seemed fresh. It shone with the most vibrant crimson of all.

Twilight's first reaction was fear. She spread her front legs, dropping into an instinctive position of defense as her horn's magic charged. The other pony merely stared at her with gold-irised eyes, and once more patiently tapped on the glass. His lips curled into a smirk. It somehow made the scars on his face look slightly less twisted.

She watched him and he watched her. Empty moments passed. He raised his hoof again, holding it near the window, and he winked at her.

Twilight supposed that he could have just bucked the glass in, if he wanted to do her harm.

The unicorn sighed and released her magic into levitation, undoing the clasp and opening the glass door to the balcony.  Cold night air rushed in.The alicorn spoke, and his pleasant voice and cheerful demeanor contrasted sharply with his rough appearance, "Good evening, madam. May I enter?"

The mare's eyes narrowed, "Why are you here? Who are you?"

"A fair question! I am a friend to mortal ponies, and to the truth, and an enemy to those who deceive and betray. And you are Twilight Sparkle," the stallion looked her over. "Well met," he added with a bow.

"How do you know my name?" Twilight asked, wondering whether she was in some sort of strange dream.

"Ah, yes, well...," The intruder looked away, sheepish. "I must admit that I've been scrying on you."

"What!?" The unicorn yelled, indignant at the violation of her privacy. She'd heard of ponies with the power to scry, but such strength and talent was rare. "Why?"

The stallion sat on his haunches, the balcony creaking under his shifting weight. He raised a hoof to scratch his chin. "First of all, forgive me my long-winded speech. I don't get out much, so when I can talk to another pony, I relish the opportunity while I yet have it. Still, even in my seclusion, I must keep up to date on news from around Equestria. Thus, I scry. As for how that applies to you.... Well, any powerful magic is of interest to me, so Luna's return from her extended absence and the accompanying theatrics drew my eye. At first I thought that one goddess would replace the other, and this land would have an empire of the night instead of an empire of the day," he said, speaking of both empires with equal disdain in his voice.

His countenance brightened as he continued, "But then, what did I witness? Six little incomplete mortals defying a goddess," a grin split the alicorn's face, and his voice filled with manic glee, "I thought you were madmares, but you did it! You cast her down and scoured a part of her being. Six little ponies overpowered one of those immortal, invulnerable, insufferable tyrants." He laughed, quick and sharp and cruel, before speaking again in a more restrained tone, "You couldn't have known that it wouldn't destroy her. You couldn't have known that it would only lead to her returning to her sister's side. No matter! I'm sure, in time, you will find a way to make that princess give back what she took from you."

"W-what?" Twilight asked, overwhelmed by the onslaught of speech. Had he called the princesses tyrants? "Make... Celestia... give back what? What did she take from me?"

The other pony shook his head, "Not Celestia. Luna. And not from you you, but from all of you. I believe we've strayed from the topic, though it is parallel, parallel. We will return to your birthright in time but if I remember correctly, we were discussing why I was scrying on you. And I was going to apologize for it, however necessary the act was. I watched you because you have a part of the power to overcome the princesses. What's more, you have the will to use it. You know not to trust the princesses; that's good! But you don't know the whole story. Celestia had the records destroyed. But I can teach you the real story of the past of our race. History that only I, among living ponies, know."

The unicorn's brow furrowed, "What about Celestia and Luna? Don't they know?"

The stallion snorted dismissively. "Oh, they know, better even than I, but don't let their shells fool you. They aren't alive; everything living bleeds. The goddesses do not bleed. Not like you and me." He flexed his wing. The mutilated flesh of the most recent burn cracked, droplets of blood springing forth and running together.

Twilight shuddered and closed her eyes as she recoiled from the sight. Still, curiosity drove her on, "And how do you know? And how have I never heard of a third alicorn before?"

"You've never heard of me," he hissed, "Because it wouldn't have helped you carry out Celestia's will. I am not a third alicorn. I am one of a once-proud civilization that covered this world before Luna ended our lines on a whim. I don't know how many yet live. And as for how I know?" The stallion chuckled, "Well, I'm a bit of a librarian myself, Twilight Sparkle, but unlike your collection, mine is not Celestia-approved. My records go back five thousand years, and show that those sisters are enemies to you and I, not friends. You've seen how they can manipulate and plot, haven't you?"

The unicorn was hesitant. "...Yes. I have."

"Then let me educate you. You can learn the truth, if you come visit my library. Together we can show your friends the light, and then we can fight them. End their tyranny once and for all."

"How...," Twilight gathered her resolve, "How do I know I can trust you?"

The other pony smiled, "You don't know. But I'm not asking you to trust me. I'm asking you to listen to me, and then decide for yourself. Come with me, Twilight Sparkle, and we will read of things long forgotten."

The cold night air blew through the open window, and the mare thought. The alicorn merely waited; a subtle smile graced his mutilated face. Ancient books, lost knowledge, reassurance. Someone telling her that her course was right, was justified. It tempted Twilight. She tried to resist, a very strong part of her unwilling to betray her mentor even then. In the end, one idea decided her course: perhaps, with this newcomer, she could find a way to hurt Celestia as much as the princess had hurt her.

"Wait here for a moment," the unicorn said. She rushed down the stairs, levitating her saddlebags to her and filling it with a few of the books she had been working on and some other essentials. Once the bags were secured, she climbed back up, a piece of paper and quill in tow. Her uninvited guest had wandered inside, and was examining one of her bookshelves. Twilight gasped as she saw, for the first time, the stallion's side. "Your cutie mark!"

Where a normal pony would have their identifying mark, the alicorn's flank bore only charred flesh.

"Hmm?" He blinked at her, then followed her gaze, "Oh, that. I removed it. The purpose of a cutie mark is to let the goddesses identify you. I... opted out."

"What...," Twilight managed, still disturbed by the sight, "What do you mean? A cutie mark is a representation of your special talent."

"A unique representation. And that's what a cutie mark is, not its purpose. The purpose is to serve as a crutch for the sisters. One can't remember faces, the other can't remember names, but neither ever forgets a cutie mark. I marred my face and I changed my name and I got rid of their brand," He smiled, "I consider it well worth the price."

"And what is your name, now that it's changed?" Twilight asked, somehow dreading the answer.

"Ever Free."




* * *



The early-morning silence of the cloud-home broke with a sudden pop and a green flash. Rainbow Dash opened her eyes just in time to see the falling scroll in the instant before it landed on her face.

The mare groaned. It was perhaps the least pleasant wake-up call she'd endured since flight school. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she rolled over onto her knees and began to undo the letter's seal with her teeth. If it wasn't important, somepony was going to pay dearly.

Dash spread out the sheets and read from the first:



'RD: URGENT! Twilight is gone! She went to the Everfree Forest. I tried sending a letter to Celestia, but she didn't respond. I think the post to Canterlot might not be working or something. I sent you the note she left. Please bring it to Celestia. Hurry! -Spike'



The other page that Spike included merely said:



'Gone with Ever Free'




* * *




The graceful arch of a rainbow shone over Ponyville, a beautiful sight that brought joy to many. It sprang from one pony's rank desperation.

At one end was the library, where Rainbow Dash had reassured Spike that she would find Twilight and bring her back safely. At the other was the Everfree Forest. A hoof-delivery to Celestia would take hours; the unicorn might not have that much time. On her friends' last visit to the forest, they only had to deal with some lame flower curse, but Dash knew that more serious dangers waited in the dark depths of the woods. She wasn't about to let Twilight wander around in there longer than necessary. She was going in after the unicorn.

Success was not a certainty; she kept the the librarian's note clutched in her folded foreleg, ready for delivery should her search prove fruitless.

A quick scan of the treeline yielded no obvious point of entry. Old game paths entered, but none had seen recent use. Rainbow Dash took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She wished she'd studied forests as thoroughly as clouds.

Plan A was a bust, but she could still check places her friends had gone before. Only after that would she allow herself to panic.

The pegasus dove into the forest. She dodged back and forth, weaving among the trunks along a familiar path. She was sure to go around the patch of inviting blue flowers, this time. Soon, she found herself at Zecora's hut. Rainbow Dash doubted that Twilight had simply stepped out to pay their new zebra acquaintance a visit, but the shaman might know something. Anything.

She could hope.

Dash knocked on the door with a knee. After a moment, it opened, and Zecora peered out. When the zebra saw her guest, she smiled,

"Greetings pony, it's a surprise
To have your presence grace my eyes"

The pegasus blinked, parsing the rhyme. Why couldn't the other mare just talk normal? "Uh, yeah, hi Zecora. Have you seen Twilight?"

The zebra shook her head.

"She has not come to visit here
I've had no recent guests, I fear,
And she did not pass by this way;
No one has been around today."

Rainbow Dash sighed. "Darn. Well, she should be around here somewhere. She left this note about the forest, see?" She grabbed the edge of the paper with her teeth and showed it to the other mare.

Zecora read the message. Her eyes widened and scanned the page again. After a moment, she frowned and moved past the pegasus, looking left and right into the darkness of the forest. Finally, she turned and set her head against the other mare's flank and pushed as she spoke in a low voice,

"Inside now; none must hear or see
The things that you will learn from me.
Of this forest's name, be assured,
that Everfree is but one word
But on this note you've shown to me
It is two words that I can see.
This choice is no mere accident
She wrote precisely what she meant."

The zebra kicked the door closed behind her. She grabbed a long bamboo stalk between her forelegs and balanced awkwardly on her rear hooves. One by one, she closed the curtains of the hut with the implement, plunging the room into ever deeper shadows.

"Now you may call me paranoid,
But it's a fact I can't avoid
That Ever Free, written that way,
Is not a prudent thing to say.
It's known that he has magic ears
so all that's spoken of, he hears
And also far flung scrying eyes;
He watches all that lives and dies"

The room was pitch black; Zecora's voice seemed to come from all around Rainbow Dash, as though the darkness itself were chanting with a fevered rhythm. The pegasus could not bring herself to speak over the whispered words, though countless questions burned within her.

"Now this may be just a tall tale
But zebras know that without fail
In legend, myth, and folk story
There are some grains of truth to see
And I believe our friend has found
truth best left buried in the ground.
You need not blindly journey on
I think I know where she has gone."

There was a loud thunk as bamboo hit wood, and the pegasus blinked as one of the walls of the hut began to glow a sickly green. The light came from some sort of moss, and the zebra had used it to create a makeshift map. A line divided lights shaped like tiny, stylized trees from others shaped like tufts of grass; Rainbow Dash recognized the treeline of the Everfree Forest, as seen from above. Within the woods, symbols were drawn in chalk and charcoal, though the pegasus could not recognize many of them. One that stood out was a simple representation of the ruined castle where the Elements of Harmony had been found. Just beyond the familiar landmark was a drawing of a field of gravestones much larger than the image of the castle itself.

Zecora had abandoned the pole and gestured with a hoof to a winding line of blue pigment that met an azure pool at the far edge of the map. Near the junction, surrounded by the harsh charcoal lines of dead woods, she'd drawn a bone-white equine skull.

"At mouth of twisted river's flow,
A place where only fools will go,
Where desecrated woods surround
His cavern under barren ground.
Beneath gnarled branch and dead wood
There is no light or hope or good
A twisted master, you will see
The winged unicorn, Ever Free!

"Your prospects, thus, are very bleak
This place's sire you must seek.
So do not try to find your friend;
In doing so you'll meet your end."

Dash scoffed, "Buck that! I'm going after Twilight, and I dare Ever Free to stop me!"

Zecora frowned and whispered a harsh reply,

"Hush little pony, not so loud!
Such volume cannot be allowed.
To speak of him is dangerous;
To challenge him? preposterous!
You could not ever hope to face
a pony of the elder race.
To do so, Dash, is never wise,
For everything he touches, dies.

"The myths speak of his blinding speed,
More strength than any other steed,
Magic we can not understand,
A mind where brilliant schemes are planned,
But worst of all, his tongue of gold,
Makes creatures do as they are told.
I will be honest with you, Dash
You'd be defeated in a flash."

Rainbow Dash's eyes narrowed. Her heart pounded in her chest as adrenaline began to flood her system. If Zecora was right, there might be nothing she could do. If she was right....

The pegasus whispered, "How do you know all this? Have you seen this 'Ever -" she stopped, unable to continue her question through the hoof Zecora had thrust into her face.

"I think that's enough of his name,
Its danger is much of his fame.
I must admit, I have not met
The master of this forest yet,
But all who I have spoken to
Have sworn to me these things are true.
From weakest creature all the way
To those who rule both night and day,
Those who cannot be devoured,
Beings magically powered,
He was here before anyone;
He will remain when we are done.
So tribute to him all do pay
And we must stay out of his way;
Yes, solitary or in herds,
Even the ursas heed these words!
That's enough, Dash, of tempting fate,
I wish to live to see a mate,
so turn your tail and leave this room,
For mere mention may bring our doom!"

In one moment, Rainbow Dash was staring at the map as Zecora filled her head with fears and threats. In the next, she was outside, and the hut behind her was dark and silent. The pegasus tried to summon memories of the time between, but had no success.

She supposed that there was nothing for it; as much as she would have liked to be the big hero of the day, anything that ursas were afraid of probably outclassed her. Even if only by a little bit. Dash clutched the note and shot up through the canopy. Once she reached sunlight again, she leveled off and flew as hard as she could. There, on the horizon, was her goal: Canterlot.




* * *




Celestia sat alone in her empty throne room. The beaming midafternoon sun filled the grand hall with warmth as birds sang in the royal gardens below. To the princess, the cheerful tones sounded very far away, and the heat refused to approach.

Frost covered the alicorn's seat, a sheen of ice that crawled inch by inch down the dais.

No mortal pony remembered why this day was set aside, why no court was held. It did not seem to be a holiday. There was no feast, no festival, no celebration. There had not been for over a thousand years. Celestia wondered whether her sister was enjoying her birthday.

There was a brief scuffle outside, a blow to the door followed by raised voices. The alicorn did not pay them any mind. Her guard had standing orders not to interfere with anything more dangerous than an irate petitioner; the policy had saved their lives on many occasions. There was little reason to risk injury protecting a charge that could not be harmed by tooth, claw, or spell. Whatever the altercation might have been, she would receive a report. Even if she didn't particularly care.

A half hour later, the doors at the far wall of the room opened, and a pegasus guard walked in. He cut a noble figure in his shining gold armor and pristine white coat, and carried himself with the bearing of a veteran. The princess did not know whether she had ever seen him before.

He approached the throne and bowed deeply, a gruff voice ringing out, "Good afternoon, Your Grace." The stallion paused, waiting for acknowledgement. He waited a long time.

Eventually, Celestia spoke a curt, "Rise," and the guard returned to his hooves. "I asked not to be disturbed."

The pegasus maintained a stance of perfect attention as he spoke, eyes straight ahead. "Yes Princess, you asked but did not order. I have a report that I believe you should hear at once."

The alicorn sighed and waved a permissive hoof. "Very well, what is it?"

The stallion's throat moved as he swallowed, though no other part of him did. "Well, Your Grace, a petitioner came, and when we told her that court was not in session, she tried to rush past us and get in. She failed to open the door because she pushed instead of pulled, and then she tried to rush away. We apprehended her and held her for questioning."

Celestia's brow arched. "And why did you think that I need to know about this?"

"I would not have brought it to your attention, Princess, except that the pony we apprehended, one Rainbow Dash, claims that there is a matter requiring your personal attention," he paused and, just for an instant, his eyes flicked up to meet hers, before discipline returned them to their steady course. "A matter regarding the safety of Twilight Sparkle. Her life is in danger."

"And why," the princess snapped, "should I be concerned about that? There are many instances where my intervention could save a pony's life. I cannot save them all. I expect my wishes to be ignored when there are major disasters, not petty tragedies. You should not have brought this to my attention."

The muscles in the stallion's jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed. After a few seconds he spoke, "May I have permission to speak freely, Your Grace?"

Celestia frowned and shifted on her throne. "Very well. Rest."

The guard spread his legs, adopting a more comfortable position and looked up. His gaze met hers, and his voice shook as he said, "Princess, I am not nearly as wise as you. I've seen but a handful of years on this world when compared to the centuries you must have seen. For twelve generations, my family has served you in the Guard, and stories have been passed down, and we have learned what we can on our vigils. We know far less than you, but we do know more than nothing. The ponies of this palace are many things, but we are not blind. We have seen the way you've acted since the Summer Sun Celebration. Getting you to go to court and hear petitioners used to be more than half the trouble of this job. Now it's been two weeks since you left this room. It does not take ancient knowledge to see that you are troubled, that something is wrong.

"The consensus among the court is that there have been issues between you and your sister. The Guard knows that is not the case; after all, you've only spoken to her a few times, and always quite civilly, since this... irregularity... began. The Guard remembers that you were withdrawn even a few days before the Celebration.

"Prin- no. Celestia. Celestia, you underestimate the Royal Guard. We know that the customs and courtesies were designed by you. You prevent us from using names and ranks to hide the fact that you cannot tell us apart. We approve. All of us have served in border units; too many of us know the pain of losing a brother in arms. If we are incapable of protecting you from physical danger, we can at least protect you from that pain. It is well that you never grow close to any of us.

"But all of us have grown close to you.

"We saw the way you acted around Twilight Sparkle. We know the joy she brought you. But we do not know why she is gone, why you have sent your joy away. And I thought - I thought that you would want to save your joy, to avoid that pain of loss. Why, Celestia, why are you doing this to yourself?"

Celestia was silent, for a time. When she replied, it came in a whisper, "I did not know whether any of you suspected. Sometimes, it helps that I can pretend the pegasus telling me the latest joke is the same one who helped my sister play pranks on me three thousand years ago. Other times... other times it feels like I lose all of you at the end of every day. I did not have that motivation when I designed the uniforms, but I could not change it if I tried. Military tradition is sometimes stronger than any magic." She paused, then shook her head. "Tell Rainbow Dash that I will not help her. Send her back to Ponyville. That is my final word on the matter. Do not challenge it. You will only make things more painful. I appreciate what you have done, what you all have done for me, but you cannot save me from my own mistakes, my own misjudgments -"

"We can try," the guard cut in without hesitation.

The princess smiled, but it was an unsteady, sickly thing. "Go. Go and never mention this again. Lose yourself among the others so that I can delude myself. I want to believe that such loyalty never dies. Dismissed."

The stallion bowed. "As you wish, Your Grace."




* * *




A single blue pegasus streaked toward Ponyville, slowed only slightly by her exhaustion. Most of her day had been flight, but she did not let it weigh too heavily upon her; she had a friend to save.

Normally, Rainbow Dash would have been thrilled to meet one of her idols. She would have been even more thrilled to be chased and subsequently tackled by one. Tronenskjold, commander of the Royal Guard, combat veteran and former Wonderbolt, was essentially the height of awesome. The pegasus wished that they could have been introduced on better terms, and she wished that he hadn't hurried her out of the palace so quickly. She wished most of all that his last words to her had been anything other than what they were.

His message had been grim. Celestia would not help. He had seemed as disappointed by the news as her. She told him about Ever Free and the location Zecora said to avoid, and he had dispatched a few pegasi to scout. Rainbow Dash hoped that it wouldn't be too little too late.

With that, the mare was nearly out of plans. There was only one option, one hope left. As much as she hated to ruin one of Pinkie Pie's parties, it was a necessity.

Only Princess Luna could save Twilight Sparkle. 

> 5th Interlude: Loss
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The harsh light of the rising sun woke Applejack. Her eyes fluttered open, then clamped shut quickly. The farmer grumbled to herself, cursing the glare, but she trailed off into murmurs as her eyelids became accustomed to the warmth. She frowned slightly as she realized that there was bare rock where her bed was supposed to be, and that she’d have to get a late start on chores if she’d slept through the dawn, but as concern stripped the downy layers of sleep from her brain, her memory returned.

The earth pony opened her eyes again and sat up, looking down on the valley arrayed below. With a smile and a sigh, she took in the vibrant greens and blues and the striking greys of the mountainous landscape.

“It was always a magnificent view,” Luna said.

Applejack looked up at the princess standing beside her, an attempt at wit dying on her lips as she noticed the change in the other mare’s appearance. Luna’s mane billowed and danced in the still morning air, three lines of color running through it. The stripes kept their form and did not bleed together; not even a single hair lost its place. The earth pony turned her head and noted that the alicorn’s tail matched. Finally, Applejack commented on the most important change in her companion’s appearance, “Is that my hat?”

“Oh.” Luna’s eyes widened. She smiled sheepishly as she levitated the wide-brimmed hat off of her head and deposited it back in its rightful place atop the farmer’s. “Sorry about that.”

The earth pony snorted as she adjusted the fit with a forehoof. “All’s forgiven, sugarcube.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” The dark mare stated. She hummed an unfamiliar tune as she watched Applejack stretch, working the stiffness out of muscles unaccustomed to so unyielding a resting place. When the mare finished, they merely looked at each other, the silence growing long and uncomfortable.

“So how’d it get all... Celestial... anyhow?” Applejack asked, gesturing at her companion’s mane with a hoof. Her eyes moved nearly imperceptibly as she tried to track a single lock amongst the flowing tangle.

Luna’s brows furrowed into a slight frown. “I do not know, actually.”

The earth pony snorted. “An’ here I was, thinkin’ you were omnipotent.”

“Even if I were all-powerful,” the alicorn stated with a wry half-smile, “that would not make me all-knowing. I believe you were looking for the word ‘omniscient’.”

“Potayto, potahto,” the farmer replied, her voice dripping with exaggerated derision.

Luna snorted before muttering, “More like apples and oranges.”

“Hey!” Applejack shouted, punctuating her displeasure by pounding the rock with a hoof, “Are you comparing magnificent, delicious apples to disgusting, rindy oranges?”

The dark mare’s jaw worked as she tried to process an answer. “The entire point is that you can’t compare... ugh, never mind. I’m sorry? I guess?”

The other pony looked quite satisfied with her victory.

The rising sun had just cleared the horizon. Luna watched it for a moment, then looked to the hills and valleys below the ponys’ perch. She surveyed the parts of the trail that she could see, then turned to look back at her companion, still laying on the warming rock. The orange pony’s half-lidded eyes threatened a nap, and the alicorn was sorely tempted to join the other mare, but she spoke instead. “Come on, sleepyhead, we had better get started on breakfast. I wouldn’t want to be late to my own birthday party.”


* * *


The afternoon sun hung low in the sky when the ponies reached the top of the final foothill. Before them stretched a sea of grass, broken here and there by forested patches. In the distance, the ordered rows of Sweet Apple Acres waited. As Applejack surveyed the land, smiling, she took a final deep breath of the mountain air.

It came out in a silent rush as she noticed another stand of apple trees, just off the path at the base of the hill. The farmer’s eyes widened, and she whispered a curse.

“Is something wrong, Applejack?” Luna asked.

The earth pony blinked, her gaze still locked on the trees. She whispered, voice hollow, “I forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

Applejack ignored Luna’s question. She set her teeth, taking a few hissing breaths between them before shouting, “I forgot!” The mare sprang forward, breaking into a downhill gallop. She threw caution to the wind, skipping switchbacks and leaping from rock to rock as she rushed downward. 

Eventually, she reached her goal and slowed, gasping to catch her breath. Most of the trees stood in pairs, their branches intertwined, but here and there a lone trunk rose. Their placement was precise, separated at even intervals, but gnarled, untrimmed branches weighed many of them down. The bare dirt was littered with fruit that had fallen, unpicked and unbucked. Old, twisted limbs gave way to smooth growth and saplings as Applejack passed through the rows. Unruly tufts of grass were replaced by a lawn of short stalks, recently trimmed.

Near the end of the silent orchard, Applejack turned. She strode slowly, her eyes scanning. Beneath each tree, there was a cut stone. On the face of each stone, craftsponies had carved a cutie mark.

Finally, the earth pony stopped, looking up at branches that fate had woven together. The pair of trees were young, too young to take a good bucking, but their trunks nearly touched despite their stature. Applejack recognized them; she never forgot a tree she’d helped to plant. 

The farmer dropped to her knees and looked toward the roots. Two familiar cutie marks, on two familiar stones, under two familiar trees. 

“Who were they?” Luna whispered from behind Applejack.

The orange mare had not heard the alicorn’s approach, but she was not surprised. “My parents,” she replied. “They died seven years ago... seven years ago yesterday. Every year, we come ‘round on the anniversary. Me an’ Big Mac.” She let out a weak shadow of a laugh. “Ain’t no reason to bring Apple Bloom out; she’d scarce remember them anyhow. But this year....”

Applejack closed her eyes tightly and set her jaw as the muscles in her face tensed. She revelled in the pressure, almost convincing herself that enough of it could keep everything within her from spilling out. Through gritted teeth, she spat, “I forgot.”

“I’m sorry,” Luna said, though her companion could barely hear the words.

“‘’T’ain’t your fault, sugar. You’re not all-knowin’. I should’a been keepin’ track. Besides, that every year thing was just... just....” Applejack choked on her words. “Sentimentality.”

A breeze shook the branches of the apple trees. The earth pony heard hoofsteps; she looked up to see Luna standing beside her. The alicorn’s eyes were fixed on the headstones.

“I didn’t mean you forgetting,” the dark mare said, “I’m sorry about what happened to your parents.”

Applejack snorted. “That’s even less your fault, an’ ancient history besides.” She looked back toward the cutie marks, but her eyes refused to focus.

The orchard was silent, for a time.

“How did they die?”

Applejack’s gaze returned to the other mare; Luna was staring down at her. The farmer sighed. “It was a plague, somethin’ the unicorns couldn’t cure. A lot of families were hit. Granny Smith tried takin’ care of ‘em best she could, alone. Wouldn’t let us kids anywhere near ‘em.” She paused. “I never saw the end. Prob’ly for the best.”

Luna turned her head, hiding her face. “Then it was my fault.”

The earth pony frowned. “What do you mean ‘your fault’?”

The alicorn’s ears folded back. Her head lowered. “I meant what I said,” she whispered, “Old age, infection, disease. My fault.”

Applejack tilted her head, “How can that be your fault? Old age? That ain’t nobody’s fault, ‘s just the way the world works. Those’re just the rules.”

Luna’s gaze fell on the headstones once again. “The rules I made up.”

The farmer’s expression darkened. “If this is some kinda joke, sugar cube, I ain’t gettin’ it.”

“It’s not a joke. I’m just...,” the alicorn paused. “I’m just trying to be worth trusting.”

“So those are the rules you made, and you can’t change them?” Applejack sounded almost hopeful, to her own ears. She was still trying to process the other mare’s words, the statements that didn’t seem quite real to her.

“I can change them. It doesn’t have to be so. There wasn’t always age and illness,” Luna replied, “But it’s better this way.”

“Better? Better!?” Applejack’s perception reeled, her vision blurring. The mare found that she had scrambled to her hooves, though she could not remember the deed “How can you say that? How could you think that? What happened to my parents is better!? Better than what? Do you know - no, of course you don’t. The only family you have is Celestia.” She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Her muscles trembled as her limbs tried to decide whether to run from Luna or buck her.

The earth pony’s words came in a torrent, heavy with vitriol. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew. If you knew what it was like to lose your family, if you knew what it was like to see them lowered into the ground and buried. Can you imagine there being nothing left of your sister but a tree and a stone and fading memories? My pain is ‘better’? My loss is ‘better’? How can anythin’ be worse?”

Applejack opened her eyes and saw Luna staring back at her. She could find no emotion in the alicorn’s face. “What,” the farmer spat, “do you know ‘bout loss, anyhow?” 

For a moment they simply looked at each other. The only thing that moved was the princess’s hair, billowing in the still air. Luna was first to speak. “I’ll show you.” 

She blinked.

There was no sound, no flash, no feeling of motion. The world simply changed. In one moment, Applejack was standing in an orchard lit by the bright summer sun. Then, in that same moment, she was standing in a field under the dull gray of an overcast sky. She looked around, gaping at the change.

They were in a clearing, a huge field surrounded on all sides by the drooping, twisted trees found only in the Everfree forest. On a nearby hill, Applejack could see the crumbling ruins of a castle. Her eyes flicked to the astronomy tower, where Twilight’s spark had awakened the Element of Honesty within her.

The clearing was filled with grave markers. Most were worn to unrecognizability; they looked no different than any other stone. A few had been preserved, seemingly untouched by the elements. The ordered rows disappeared into the gloom of the forest proper. There were far more stones than Applejack could have counted, thousands upon thousands of them.

The earth pony turned, and saw a few rows of perfectly preserved obelisks, most of them black marble with shining inlaid metal cutie marks. None of them bore signs of wear. The closest one to her was marked with a rose in leaf-of-gold. A bright bouquet of yellow flowers lay at its base.

“This is part of my loss,” Luna said, “but far from all of it.”

Applejack spun to face the alicorn, who had begun to walk among the small worn stones.

The dark mare spoke slowly. “My sister and I built this castle here because it was the location of one of the original alicorn tribes. The graveyard was placed around the burial ground of that tribe. Every pony that died in our castle was buried here. Four thousand years of death in the most populous city in the world at the time. I knew most of them. I know them still. My memory does not fade; I recall where each is buried, headstone or no. The only thing that I have forgotten are their names.” 

Luna bent down to rest her forehead against a stone worn smooth by rain and age. “This earth pony was the first palace head cook. He loved spicy food; his cutie mark was a pepper. He made my meals with extra heat, and I helped him grow exotic herbs. He died when his heart failed him. It was considered ‘natural causes’. That means that it’s my fault.”

The alicorn walked to the next stone and stopped. “This unicorn was our first seneschal. She wrote poetry in her spare time. It was beautiful, but she said that it was better when my voice was the one reciting. Her cutie mark was a blank page. She died of a tumor. Natural causes. My fault.” She continued to the marker after that. “This pegasus was a gardener. We played chess every day. Sometimes I even won. He died in bed, surrounded by his family. It was my fault.” 

Applejack merely watched the other mare, her mind a blank. Barely an echo of her anger remained.

Luna strode past marker after marker, her pace increasing as she spoke, “Unicorn. Invented a spell to make beards grow. She never did get rid of her first try. A long gray beard on a mare! Her lungs filled with fluid, and she drowned in her sleep. My fault. Earth pony. Carved a statue of me, once. Fell down a flight of stairs. Not my fault. Pegasus. He was a royal guard. Plague got him. My fault. Unicorn. The music she played was... haunting. Illness. My fault. Earth pony. Brewed the most delicious mead. My fault.” The alicorn paused, gazing down the line of headstones. She turned and stepped over one, crossing into the next row. 

The princess locked eyes with Applejack and began to return toward the farmer, her narration confident. Luna did not look down, but she paused at every stone to say a few words. “Unicorn, illness, my fault. Pegasus, age, my fault. Pegasus, heart failure, my fault. Earth pony, seizure, my fault. Pegasus, lightning, not my fault. Unicorn, age, my fault. Unicorn, murder, not my fault. Earth pony, tumor, my fault.” Luna stopped as she reached her companion.

“Earth pony. She was too quick to forgive. Probably mortality. Probably my fault.” The alicorn gestured with a hoof, an arc that encompassed the graveyard. “This is what I know of loss, Applejack. Four thousand years of friends. The vast majority of them died because of me. Your loss is to forget; my loss is to remember. Every pony, every cutie mark, every funeral, every death rattle. My memories never fade. Only the names, which I can never learn in the first place.”

The farmer tilted her head. “You learned my name.”

“Yours is the only one,” Luna whispered.

Applejack looked out across the clearing. “Why?”

The alicorn’s lip twitched, a hint of a smile that disappeared in an instant. “I am not all-knowing, particularly when it comes to names.”

The earth pony shook her head. “No, I mean... why would you let everythin’ turn out this way? You said you could change the rules.”

“They are changed,” Luna said. She pointed past Applejack. “Those are the original rules.”

The farmer turned. The obelisks formed a graveyard within a graveyard. 

The princess strode past the other mare, stepping slowly among the spires of stone. “My sister designed the bodies of the alicorns magnificently. No illness, no age, no imperfection. Each one could have lived forever. I still hope that a few will, somewhere out there. It’s probably a vain hope.” She stopped in front of the smallest stone spire, in the center of the field. It was blank.

“The first alicorn that died did so before my sister and I started to take an active role in the society of ponies, before we called upon magic to grant cutie marks, before the alicorns taught us about language. We were only watchers, then, but it was clear that they didn’t understand.” Luna fell to her knees and tilted her head back to stare into the slate grey sky. “I remember the tribe gathered around her broken body, trying to wake her up. They didn’t bury her until she started to rot.”

Applejack approached the other pony, but stopped short a few paces away. “Why are you telling me this?”

The alicorn looked over her shoulder, meeting the earth pony’s gaze. “So that you can see the choice I had to make. So you know who I am, without omission. Because I want to be worthy of your trust.”

The earth pony nodded once, slowly. 

Luna continued. “When a pony dies, it is tragic. The pain of loss is excruciating, and though it dulls, the scar never truly goes away. This is how it is with mortal ponies. For the alicorns, however, it was somehow worse.

“It could be the fact that with alicorns, death was never a certainty. They knew that barring violence and accidents, they would live forever. When somepony died, it was a loss of something that could have lasted until the end of time. Perhaps that realization caused alicorns to see their own possible mortality in the death of their fellows. Those theories do not satisfy me.” The princess stood. “They never did. I was and am convinced that the cause of it all, the ever-escalating blood feuds, the murders, the suicides, was the alicorns’ greatest flaw. Memory. Most alicorns lived for thousands of years, but they remembered no more than you do, Applejack. A couple of decades of clear memories and a few scattered fragments of what came before.”

The alicorn turned and walked a few steps toward another of the standing stones. She put her hoof against the smooth face and looked at the shadowy reflection in the polished marble. “They enchanted these grave markers to last forever. Even so, they forgot. Their loved ones would die, and in time, in a few short centuries, they would forget. Names, faces, events, personalities, all gone. But the scars never faded, and they felt the need, the primal urge practically etched onto their bones, to mourn. To mourn ponies that they could not remember ever having met. It weighed on them, and as scars built upon scars, one by one the alicorns went mad, and most did so violently. In the tenth millennium after my sister created the first tribe, the problem spiraled out of control. Murders and suicides happened by the scores. Wars were fought over minor slights as the whole race seemed to go mad. For each alicorn born in a day, a dozen were buried. My sister could not find a way to stop it.”

Applejack sat on the grass, and ground one of her front hooves into the dirt. Her voice rasped in her throat, but she forced her words out. “And you did?”

Luna’s head dropped, and her eyes closed. “I did. And I’ve had to live with it ever since, even though the ponies that I was trying to save, for the most part... they have not.”


* * *


Applejack pushed the barn door open with a hoof, staring into the darkness within. She frowned. “It was supposed to be in here. D’ya think we’re early?”

Luna walked past the other pony. “Nope,” she said with a wink that the orange mare could barely see in the gloom.

The farmer let the barn door go with a shrug, the squeal of rusted hinges giving way to a dull boom as it swung closed. The pair stood silent in the darkness for a few moments.

“Surprise!” The barn shuddered with the deafening shout of dozens of ponies as the glow of unicorn horns and flash of lighting candles lit the room. Pinkie Pie, literally bouncing with energy, was the closest to Luna among the partygoers, and the others let her take the lead as they rushed to surround the newcomers.

“Welcome to your party, Luna!” The pink pony shouted as she hopped in a circle around the princess. “I hope we have enough candles. I brought like a dozen cakes, and some stuff for the guests to eat too. This is going to be the best billiondy-whateverth birthday party ever. Did you like your surprise?”

Applejack frowned and tilted her head. “How’s it a surprise, Pinkie? It ain’t like she didn’t know there was gonna to be a party. The whole point of a surprise party is that the birthday filly doesn’t know there’s going to be a party, right?”

Pinkie stopped and turned to look at her friend. “That’s a common misconception,” she replied with a self-satisfied nod, “But I could see how you might get confused. See, the most important part is the surprise; it doesn’t matter how it happens. So Luna, you were surprised, weren’t you?”

The princess smiled to herself. “I suppose I was. Your mission was successful.”

“Hooray!” Pinkie Pie whirled and began to call out directions to the crowd of ponies that filled the barn, conducting their actions with exaggerated waves of her hooves, “Begin the celebration, fire up the big candle, wrangle the balloon animals!”  As music and the dull roar of conversation began to fill the room, she turned to Applejack and nodded with satisfaction. “See? Best surprise party ever.”

“But she wasn’t surprised by the party,” the farmer objected, “she was surprised by the surprise!”

Pinkie Pie giggled and rushed toward the orange pony, stopping just in front of the other mare. “Exactly! That’s the true genius of my nefarious plot. See, a pony would have to be absolutely loopy,” she said, her eyes rolling freely in opposite directions, “to not expect a party on their birthday! So if I try to throw a surprise party, they won’t hear about any party, but they know their friends will throw them one, so they won’t be surprised!” She latched onto Applejack’s shoulders, shaking the orange pony as her voice filled with horror. “They won’t be surprised at all!”

Applejack raised an eyebrow, her mouth working, “So you throw a surprise party but tell us it’s gonna be a regular party ‘cause if you didn’t tell us about the party, it would have been a surprise party that wasn’t no surprise, but this party is a surprise because a surprise party that’s supposed to be a regular party is a surprise?”

“Now you’re getting it.” The pink pony nodded sagely.

“I am?” The farmer asked, incredulous.

Luna rubbed her chin with a hoof for a moment before agreeing. “Makes sense to me.”

“Eeyup,” a third voice chimed in from amongst the crowd.

“Nopony asked you!” Applejack yelled to her brother.

Big Macintosh snorted with amusement before wandering off into the swarm of party-goers.

The orange pony muttered something about fancy mathematics as she watched him go. Luna managed not to laugh at the exchange.

“Now, what is there to do?” Luna questioned idly, “It’s been a long time since I’ve attended a party. I assume ponies still serve....” her eyes darted to meet Pinkie Pie’s. “Refreshments?”

Pinkie Pie opened her mouth, but the reply died on her lips. The barn shuddered as the door flew open with a tremendous crash. A light-blue blur of kicking legs and flapping wings hit the floor, rolling to a stop in the center of a crowd that had fallen suddenly silent.

Rainbow Dash leapt to her hooves and surveyed the scene, her head and eyes darting from pony to pony. “Where’s Princess Luna!?” she shouted.

Applejack stepped forward, putting herself between the pegasus and the alicorn. “Dash! Calm down. You ain’t gotta ruin this party on account of some grudge. Luna isn’t Nightmare Moon. Tryin’ to fight her isn’t gonna help anythin’.”

“I’m not here to fight the princess,” Rainbow Dash said, pushing past the earth pony, “I’m here to ask her for help.” The rainbow-maned mare’s eyes met Luna’s. “Twilight’s in danger. She was kidnapped by an alicorn. Celestia won’t do anything about it. If you help save her... well... you’ll have my loyalty. And my forgiveness. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Luna frowned. “That’s not important right now; a pony’s life is. Tell me where I can find the alicorn. I will save your friend.”

“Not without us,” Applejack stated as Rarity and Fluttershy emerged from the crowd to stand beside the other Elements of Harmony. 

The princess opened her mouth to object, then sighed. “Very well. Let’s go.”
> Chapter 6, Part 1: Friendship
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The universe skipped a beat, and Rainbow Dash found herself in silent darkness. She blinked and shook her head with vigor. The slight but audible swish of her mane reassured the pegasus that she had not been struck deaf; she sighed, releasing breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Hey!” A shrill voice rang out, shattering the heavy atmosphere, “Where’d the party go? And who put out the lights!?”

Dash smiled at Pinkie Pie’s outburst.

Light sprang into being, radiating from Luna’s glowing horn. 

The pegasus squinted as her eyes adjusted, and she tried to take in her surroundings, unnerved by the sudden change in scenery. Her friends stood just where they had in the barn, but everything else, from the other ponies to the structure itself, was gone. 

In its place stood black trees as far as Rainbow Dash could see. The rainbow-maned mare strained her eyes, fighting to keep the gnarled trunks from blending together into a single dark mass. The dividing lines between them seemed to warp and twist in the edges of her vision; she was almost able to convince herself that it was only her mind playing tricks on her. No starlight was able to pierce the canopy, and it was impossible to tell where the leaves ended and the branches began. Even the bare dirt beneath her hooves was a featureless black.

“Sorry for the sudden trip,” Luna said, “But the matter is, after all, urgent.” The princess turned to address the rainbow-maned pegasus, “Were you able to learn where your friend was taken?”

“Uh, sorta,” Rainbow Dash replied, rubbing the back of her head with a hoof, “It’s kinda near where a river meets a lake. Or maybe a sea. The one who told me can be sorta hard to understand.”

The alicorn’s mouth twisted. “There? I suspected as much.” Her eyes closed, and for a moment the light in her horn flickered out. When it returned, she spoke again, “Follow me. The cave is this way.” With that, she turned and began to weave her way between the unnatural trunks.

One by one, the others followed, Applejack springing forward to walk beside the princess while Pinkie Pie bounced along behind them. Rarity glowered at their dismal surroundings, but the twitching of her tail and lack of her characteristic whining betrayed the extent of her disquiet. The weatherpony turned to check on the last member of their group.

Fluttershy had collapsed into a cowering, motionless ball of fraidypony. Of course. Dash rolled her eyes. “You know, she’s the only source of light out here. If you don’t come with us, you’ll be alone in the dark.”

The yellow pegasus sprang into motion with a squeak, catching up with the princess more quickly than Rainbow Dash would have thought possible. 

The weatherpony chuckled to herself and flapped her wings, effortlessly circling around to float ahead of her friends. 

“...Been here before, but not since long before my exile,” Luna explained to Applejack, who stared at the princess in rapt attention. “Still, my sister and I have always known that one of our old creations is what makes this forest so wild. We just thought he was more or less harmless, aside from the monsters.”

The farmer snorted. “I’d’a thought monsters would be at least a bit of what goes inta judgin’ harmlessness.”

Rainbow Dash waved a dismissive hoof. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”

Luna ignored the pegasus. “They don’t often leave the forest. Besides, there are some good things that came from the forest thousands of years ago, new crops and new animals that get along well outside. Most don’t even know of their questionable origin,” She said before adding with a wry smile, “Admittedly, I can’t say for certain whether anything new has come from here in the last thousand years.”

With that, Applejack and the princess launched into a discussion of specific plants and seasons and crop rotations. Their words rapidly became indistinguishable from a toneless drone to Dash’s ears and her mind began to wander. Her body soon followed.

The weatherpony flew out into the forest, circling in search of anything different from the unchanging backdrop of black trees. She kept Luna’s light in the corner of her eye, never getting too far before returning. Just before she lost all illumination, the mare heard something. A faint but constant noise, achingly familiar. Then, she placed it.

“Hey everypony! I hear water over here,” Rainbow Dash shouted, waving a hoof to catch their attention.

As the other ponies rushed toward her, Dash pressed ahead, and with just a few flaps of her wings, she cleared the treeline. The pegasus landed, her hooves pressing into the coarse sand of the riverbank. After the darkness of the forest, the moonlight seemed almost blinding. Rushing water flashed as rapids reflected the illumination. She turned and walked along the shore, following the current downstream, and as soon as she looked up, she saw it.

Rainbow Dash knew immediately that the spire before her was their goal. It was too perfect not to be. The rocky crag dominated the shore, blocking her view of the lake that marked the end of the river’s flow. It was too small to be a mountain, too steep to be a hill, and too violent to be natural.

Even to the pegasus’ untrained eye, some of the surfaces were clearly carved. Any overall structure, however, had been deliberately disfigured. Large chunks were missing, seemingly broken off. Other sections had melted, freezing forever into wavy lines that were unmistakably those of flowing liquid. The only broken-off piece that she could see in the moonlight was a spike the length of a dozen ponies that stuck out of the sand of the beach. It was carved with a spiral.

Dash moved forward to examine the broken megalith. In the near face, at ground level, a jagged gap opened into darkness. The mare’s brow creased as she chewed her lip. The space looked downright claustrophobic, no room for good flying. No good for fighting. She contemplated that fact, and she did so intently enough that when she heard a voice, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Do we have to --Oh, sorry Dash. Do we have to...,” Fluttershy gulped. “Go inside?”

“I don’t like it any more than you do, Fluttershy, dear. There’s probably all sorts of nasty cobwebs and slime and creatures in there.” Rarity shuddered. “Still, we owe it to our friend.”

“It’s just like y’said it was, Luna,” Applejack remarked.

The alicorn nodded. “I fear it may have changed greatly inside; it’s been over five thousand years since I entered. The surroundings are certainly different.”

Rainbow Dash flew to the entrance and peered in, straining to see past where the slightly sloping tunnel disappeared into darkness. “Well,” she whispered to herself, “no turning back now.”


* * *


The passage twisted and turned, often looping back around to pass under itself, but never branched. As the ponies descended, the walls and floor of the cave grew steadily smoother, appearing less and less natural. Eventually, the path became a perfect rectangular hall before leveling off, and soon the ponies made the final turn, revealing their goal. Luna’s eyebrows rose; her companions gaped in awe.

The cave opened up into an enormous room. Harsh white light illuminated the space, though no source was visible. Row after row of bookshelves, each tall enough to dwarf any building in Ponyville, receded into the distance. Racks of scrolls lined the walls. Every surface, every corner, every shelf was filled. Books had been turned sideways and shoved above the neatly placed volumes to take advantage of extra shelf space. Papers had been stuffed into cracks and gaps and any place where there was even a hint of space. Dry parchment cracked as Luna stepped forward; the floor was covered with loose pages. On a nearby shelf, she could see that somepony had written on the spines of the books, the script continuing from one to another as though together they formed a single page. High above, where only the alicorn’s vision could discern it, the ceiling was covered with dense writing carved into the very stone. 

Just past the entrance, a small pool of clear water sat in a raised basin, and beyond that was a table covered in scrolls, inkwells, stacks of books, and one familiar traveler’s bag. In front of the table, there was a large chair, and upon the chair sat Twilight Sparkle.

The unicorn turned to look at her friends as they began to take hesitant steps into the vast library, spreading out as they craned their necks to take in the spectacle. She coughed pointedly, and the other mares turned their attention to her, each looking a bit sheepish, with the exception of Pinkie Pie. The earth pony merely turned her slack-jawed stare from the shelves to Twilight.

“Girls!” The librarian hissed quietly, “What are you doing here?” She shot a nasty look at Luna before adding, “With her?”

Rainbow Dash stepped forward, looking quite proud of herself, and shouted, “Twilight! We’re here to-”

The purple mare raised a hoof to her lips and overpowered the weatherpony’s words with an emphatic “Shhhh!” She frowned and whispered, “Keep your voice down. We’re in a library.”

The pegasus blinked at Twilight, then turned and blinked at Applejack as confusion grew more plain on her face. The farmer just shrugged. Dash looked back to the unicorn and spoke in a low voice, “We’re here to rescue you.”

Twilight Sparkle tilted her head. “Rescue me?”

Rainbow dash spoke slowly, as though trying to explain something obvious, “Yeah, y’know, rescue you from Ever Free.” The others had all converged around Twilight’s chair, though they still took opportunities to study their surroundings with expressions that ranged from wonder to fear.

The unicorn scratched her head with a hoof. “Why?”

The weatherpony’s jaw dropped.

“Land’s sakes, Rainbow, didn’t ya say she was kidnapped?” Applejack asked.

“I left a note...,” Twilight said, trailing off as she noted that the others were ignoring her.

“He’s a big evil ancient unicorn pegasus thingy!” Rainbow Dash insisted as she frowned at the farmer, “Of course he kidnapped her. He’s probably got her all mind-controlled. He can do that sort of thing”

Fluttershy whimpered quietly.

Applejack snorted. “And how do you know that, Dash?”

“Zecora said so.”

“If you look at Zecora and cross your eyes just right,” Pinkie Pie asserted, “You can totally see a boat!”

“She’s done right by us, but that don’t mean she’s right ‘bout everythin’, sugar cube,” Applejack said.

“Yeah, but--,” Rainbow Dash began.

A booming, masculine voice rang out from among the forest of shelves, cutting the pegasus off. “Ah, guests! How grand. I wondered what that commotion was.”

Seven mares turned toward the source of the voice, and watched as Ever Free approached, walking swiftly down the central aisle of the library. Fluttershy hid her face behind her hooves and Rarity uttered a cry of disgust as the extent of the alicorn’s self-inflicted deformity became visible. Pinkie Pie twitched as one of her muscles spasmed. Rainbow Dash set her jaw and crouched, her wings tense as she prepared to launch herself forward. Twilight, Applejack, and Luna merely watched the stallion’s progress.

The scarlet pony came to a stop when he reached the clear area around the scrying pool. He looked at each mare in turn, his features tightening as his eyes settled on Luna. A momentary frown was quickly replaced by an exaggerated smile as he spoke. “The bearers of the Elements of Harmony! What an honor. You may not know me, but I know you. Have you come to visit Twilight?”

“We’ve come to rescue her!” Rainbow Dash shouted, “Let her go or else.”

Ever Free tilted his head as he blinked in exaggerated confusion. “Rescue her? From me? That is certainly not necessary. She’s free to leave at any time she pleases.” He turned toward the unicorn in question. “Are you done with your reading, Twilight Sparkle?”

The librarian glared pointedly at her rainbow-maned friend as she answered, “Not even close. I’ll be sticking around, if you don’t mind.”

“I do hope that settles the matter,” the stallion said.

“Nuh-uh,” Pinkie Pie asserted, “How do we know you didn’t do some magic brain-controlly thing on Twilight to turn her book-obsessed. Well, more book-obsessed than before. Or something...,” She trailed off.

Ever Free snorted. “Even if I could use ‘brain-controlly’ magic, I wouldn’t stoop to such a thing. Your friend is no more ‘book-obsessed’ than she ever was. Not that a literary streak is a bad thing.” He gestured with a wing, pointing to the seemingly endless line of shelves behind him. “I’m certainly a fan of the medium.”

“An’ how do we know you’re not lyin’?” Applejack asked.

“He’s not. His magic has not touched Twilight’s mind.” Luna stated.

The farmer nodded, satisfied. Her friends’ reassured smiles and sighs of relief echoed the sentiment.

The unicorn herself merely rolled her eyes.

The scarred stallion bared his teeth, his lip twitching into a snarl as he spoke, “So of course you trust her and not me. She is your beloved princess, after all. Why should it matter that she’s not one of us? Never mind the crimes she’s committed against ponykind. Forget the fact that her lies of omission are the greatest deception in the history of our people. You are young yet; perhaps you will learn your lesson in time.” He paused for a moment, meeting the eyes of each of the bearers in turn. Finally, he looked to the other alicorn and took a step toward her, shouting, “And you! I don’t need you to back me up. You disgust me. I don’t want any of your sort of help. I had hoped to save our discussion for a more private moment, but I simply cannot wait any longer. I may be letting my emotions get the best of me, but we will have words and we will have them now. I know that there is nothing that I can do to compel you. I know that compared to yours, my magic is nothing.”

Luna closed her eyes and perked her ears as she let the tirade wash over her.

“I loathe the fact that I am powerless before you,” Ever Free continued, “And that the only course available to me is to appeal to any good within your nature. I’m not sure there is any. Still, if you have any feeling of remorse for your deeds, any sense of obligation to your creations, then spare me this infinitesimal fraction of your eternity. I would have you answer for your crimes. Even a monster as cruel and destructive as you should maintain at least that much dignity.”

A chorus of objections sounded from the five native residents of Ponyville. Rarity’s shout of, “You can’t speak to the princess that way!” Rang out above the rest.

Ever Free stomped a hoof, its impact echoing in the cavernous library. His eyes widened with rage as he ranted, “Be silent! You have no right to lecture me. You have not earned it. You have not seen what I have seen. You have not done what I have done. You have not lost what I have lost. All your experience is not the tiniest sliver compared to mine. I have forgotten a hundred times as many years as any of you could hope to live! All that you think is truth, I know to be lies. All that you think is knowledge, I know to be falsehood. All that you think is wisdom, I know to be folly. You are children, and you will be silent when adults are speaking. If you can’t behave, then I will be forced to ask you to leave.” His tone was threatening in a way that the words were not, and his eyes gleamed feverishly.

The mortal ponies fell quiet, but as they watched the master of the forest, the accusations in their eyes spoke volumes.

Luna voice, utterly calm, broke the tense silence. “Was it really necessary to be so harsh?”

“The truth is often harsh, princess,” Ever Free replied, scowling as he spat the title like an insult.

The dark alicorn snorted and stated wryly, “On that, I grant, we are in agreement.” She sighed. “Even so, five thousand years ago you knew what delicacy was, and kindness. I never expected to hear such words from you.”

“Oh, you think you know me? How, with my cutie mark gone and my face scarred beyond recognition?” The stallion grimaced, twisting his visage further. “Bluffing, Luna? How very distasteful.”

“I don’t need to bluff. Aside from my sister and I, you are the only alicorn capable of creating this forest,” Luna said. She smiled. “It helps that you’re still living in the same library. Do you think that my sister and I are foals?”

Ever Free shrugged, his expression softening into a sheepish smile. “Nothing wagered, nothing gained. I did not know that I lived here before my self-imposed exile.” His eyes narrowed. “If your words are true, that is.”

“They are. In any case, I certainly don’t need to recognize you to know who you are. Or should I say ‘were’?” The alicorn shook her head and sighed. “You are not the stallion you should be. I remember the pony you once were; he would not approve of what you have become.”

“Then you have me at a disadvantage, as you well know,” The stallion replied, “I cannot remember the pony I once was. I only know that I am the pony he made me. He decided what to remember and what to forget. He wrote down only what he knew was worth keeping. He studied those things that were worth remembering. He left behind the parts of himself that were weak, or pitiful, or inferior. This is who he chose to be - who I chose to be. This is what I made of myself!” Ever Free spread his wings wide, throwing forward his chest and raising his chin. He grinned with pride, the expression twisted by the scars on his face. “And it. Is. Glorious.”

A hint of sorrow entered Luna’s voice. “Are you so proud of your wounds? Why do you treasure your past self’s pain?”

“Pain is weakness leaving the body,” the other alicorn spat. He lowered his wings, wincing as he tucked them tight to his sides.

“There has never been weakness in my body,” The princess of the night said, “Yet I have felt agony beyond measure.”

The stallion snorted. “I’m not sure you understand the term. Besides, the rules have always been different for your kind. Weighted in your favor. Do not expect me to pity you because your form is eternally perfect.”

Luna looked to the ground as she murmured, “Our rules are not as different, I think, as you expect.”

“Then why have you never been called to account for crimes that would see a mortal banished or worse?” Ever Free asked.

“I was banished!” The princess insisted. “Or have you not been paying attention for the last thousand years?”

“Time does fly,” Ever Free said. He chuckled, a harsh, cruel sound that seemed to echo off the shelves. “But enough flippancy. You know what I mean. Or perhaps you don’t. Perhaps it all just blends together for you.” He sneered at the princess. “What is one life among millions you’ve ended before their time, after all?”

“I never forget the crimes I’ve committed,” Luna said.

“Then you should answer for them. You and that other all-powerful puppetmistress.” The stallion uttered an exclamation of disgust. “Are you aware of what she did to Twilight Sparkle? It’s no wonder the poor little unicorn wants nothing to do with Celestia.”

“Hey!” Twilight objected.

Ever Free held up a hoof in reassurance as his ever-present glower shifted momentarily into a lopsided grin. “No offense meant, it was merely wordplay.” His tone became hard as he addressed the other alicorn, “In any case, it’s not like Celestia wants anything to do with her. That much is abundantly clear. The ‘princess’ doesn’t give a damn about her protege.”

“My sister values all her students, perhaps more than even she understands, and she cares for this one above all others,” Luna insisted, an earnest energy driving her words, “There is nothing more precious to her.”

“Oh?” The stallion asked, drawing out the word, seeming to take great pleasure in it, “Then why are you here, and not her? Isn’t this her place? Isn’t this her misguided rescue attempt to make?”

Luna’s countenance did not shift, but a sliver of doubt entered her voice. “I cannot speak for her.”

“Of course not. Only for all the worthless pawns she created. Very well. If you cannot speak for her, then bring her here,” Ever Free said, gesturing toward the passage to the outside with a hoof, “Let her come and speak for herself. Let her try to convince Twilight Sparkle to return to exile in a backwater farming town. That’s what you came here for, is it not? Well Celestia clearly has more experience manipulating her dear student, so let the mistress show us how it’s done. I would love to see it!”

Luna stood still for a moment. She glanced from Ever Free to Twilight Sparkle, then closed her eyes and nodded. “Very well. I will try to convince her. I have only one request.”

The stallion’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? Setting conditions?”

The princess frowned at him. “It is to your advantage.” She walked slowly over to the basin of water and dipped a hoof in. Its clear surface clouded, then began to glow a brilliant white. “Come, everypony. You should watch.” 

The ponies gathered around the edge of the pool, shielding their eyes from its glare however they could. Ever Free followed and stopped just behind the other alicorn. He craned his neck to look over her shoulder at the source of the light. An echoing crack sounded from the pool, and Fluttershy reared in fright at the unexpected noise.

Luna’s smiled and whispered, “Watch... and listen.”

And with that, she was gone.

In the center of the scrying pool, a shadowed spot appeared amidst the blinding brightness of metal and marble.


* * *


Light dazzled Luna, featureless white brilliance momentarily overloading her ability to perceive. With a blink, she adjusted. Features of the throne room began to appear in the washed-out void. The gaps between columns became visible almost immediately, but the faint glow of stars could not overcome the glare; the rectangles of black emptiness took away all sense of scale, giving the impression that the hall floated alone in empty space. Ice covered the floor and crawled up carvings in the marble. Fingers of frost spread web-like between silver stars in the ceiling. Groups of icicles hung like shining stalactites, their facets reflecting an overwhelming brilliance. 

In the center of the room, the source of the radiance sat on her throne. Celestia’s outline wavered, fading as the distinction between the princess and her light blurred. Her mane had lost its color; it waved in the still air, a featureless white sheet. Only one of the alicorn’s features remained sharp: her eyes.

The princess of the night met the other mare’s gaze. Black pupils in the shape of vertical slits stared back, surrounded by blue irises as pale as death. Luna shuddered; her sister’s eyes held all the warmth of winter sun on freshly fallen snow.

Celestia’s voice rang out across the chamber, though she remained motionless, jaw clenched, lips still. “Good evening, Luna.”

“Sister,” the dark alicorn murmured in disbelief before raising her voice, “What is going on here?”

The reply came without emotion or urgency, utterly flat. “Nothing of import; court is out of session today. I am simply waiting for tomorrow’s session to begin.”

Luna raised a hoof, breaking off a coating of ice that had begun to spread upward from the floor. She frowned at it. “How are you going to hold court in here? All the petitioners would end up blind and frozen.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

The smaller sister stomped and a spiderweb of cracks spread from the point of impact. “Sister, I thought you were above this. Didn’t you learn from my example?”

A momentary hint of anger touched Celestia’s sourceless voice. “I am not Nightmare Moon.”

Luna snorted. “And yet you know exactly what I was talking about. Even you aren’t oblivious enough to fail to notice your own transformation.”

“I do what I must.”

The dark mare’s horn flashed, and the ice within a few steps her disappeared with a deafening hiss. “And what ‘must’ you do, sister? Give up? Give in to the worst parts of yourself? Turn into something twisted and destructive? No good can come from this. Suppress these urges. Your favored student needs your guidance now. Without it, she may lose her way forever. And, from what I see, you may lose yours.”

“Twilight Sparkle...,” Celestia paused. “Is nothing to me.”

The night princess took a step toward the throne, and the light of the hall dimmed nearly imperceptibly. “That’s the most blatant lie I’ve ever heard from you, sister. You told me about what you’ve done for her, the education and guidance. It seems a good bit more than nothing to my eye.”

“I accepted her into my school only because she was a potential Element of Magic.”

The ice retreated in the face of Luna’s advance, melting into puddles that disappeared in puffs of steam whenever the alicorn stepped into them. “And yet you adopted her as your personal student, when you could just as easily have watched her from afar.”

“I needed her close, to guide her progress.”

Drops of water began to fall from the ceiling. When one hit the smaller sister’s waving mane, it sizzled away in an instant. “And yet when living in Ponyville was the best thing for her welfare, you let her stay, knowing that she would grow more mature on her own, and possibly grow out of your control.”

“You are back. She has outlived her usefulness.”

The dripping became a light rain and trickling streams ran down the columns, following the curves in the stonework. “And yet the first full conversation we had, before we left Ponyville, was little more than you praising her. You spoke with almost glowing pride. I think it was very nearly the first genuine emotion I’d ever heard in your voice.” As the light’s intensity diminished further, the moon became visible through one of the gaps in the line of columns, no longer too strongly outshone to be seen.

“I was proud of my accomplishment in guiding her, as I would be in the design of any tool that had ably served its purpose.”

A sheet of ice dropped from the ceiling and shattered with a crash, but Luna spoke over the noise. “And yet you asked her to send you reports on friendship. Has she sent any? Have you read them?”

“She sent a few, before she stopped sending letters. I read them.”

“And?” Luna asked.

Celestia’s flat voice changed just a bit as she spoke. “They are much like the lessons I myself learned, five hundred years ago.” The other alicorn could not place the emotion the words carried. Amusement? Nostalgia? Pride?

Stars began to appear, slowly filling the space between the columns. “Why is it important that she learn those lessons?”

“It is not.” Celestia’s voice hardened. “She means nothing to me.”

Luna whispered, but her voice carried over the noise of the streams released by the melting ice. “Sister, think of the time we spent together. Think of the things we’ve accomplished together. Think of where you would still be without me. You owe me the truth. You can never harden your heart enough to deny that. Tell me: who are you trying to convince with these lies?” She continued to advance, step by slow step, toward her sister.

The princess was silent for a time. When she spoke she was as stationary as ever, but her cold detachment was gone. Resignation took its pace. “Myself.”

The dark alicorn nodded grimly. “What do you hope to accomplish?”

“I don’t want to care anymore.”

Luna sighed. “I have been in your place, sister. I have wanted to throw off the weight of my actions. I tried. I failed. The deeds I’ve done will never leave me. We must both bear our pain, sister. You ought to know that. What brought you to this desperation? What weighs so heavy upon you? Share your burden with me, sister; I can help you bear it.” She came to the base of the dais upon which the other alicorn’s throne rested. The dark mare put a hoof on the first step.

Celestia’s disembodied voice shook. “Regret, Luna. I manipulated the pony who believed in me most. She trusted me, and I used her. Logically, it seemed like the right thing to do. I needed you back. It wouldn’t hurt her. She would be better off. I know best, don’t I? Isn’t that right? It feels wrong. So wrong.” The words began to spill forth faster and faster as the ancient alicorn nearly babbled, “I have you back, and it should be good, I should feel justified, like it was a price worth paying, but I don’t. I just can’t stop thinking about how I could have told her everything, and maybe she would have failed you, but I wouldn’t have failed her. Twilight’s innocence could not have lasted forever, but I didn’t have to break it. But then I think about what you would be going through if I hadn’t set her on that course. And I think about how I would have felt about this before I learned how to feel for my creations.” The princess laughed, a short and bitter bark, and the room shook. “Why is it that you always cared for them, but it is only recently that I learned how? And why... why didn’t you warn me how much it hurts? How it can hurt this much to lose just one of them?” The white alicorn’s body still glowed in purest white, but her outline once again clearly defined. Hints of ghostly color began to creep back into the edges of her bone-white mane.

The night princess looked away from her sister. The hall was mostly dark, and the last of the ice was melting away, but the other mare’s eyes had not thawed; they yet held a piercing chill, and Luna could not face it any longer. “Why are we different? I don’t know. Why didn’t I warn you? Because I don’t think you could have understood. I don’t think it’s possible to understand suffering until you’ve felt it. But your pain... you know I can relate. To save the race of ponies from extinction, I sentenced every one of its members to death. Was it the right thing to do? I don’t know. Even if it was, it still haunts me. I feel guilt for having done it and I know I would feel guilt if I had stayed my hoof and refrained. Would they be better or worse off without me? Does it even matter? Perhaps neither option was wrong. Perhaps they are both unforgivable. Sister, I know what it’s like to feel so much and be sure of so little.”

The other princess responded in a voice twisted with self-deprecation, “Ah, grand, a problem that both of us can share.”

Luna climbed another step up the dais. “Not just us, sister. Everypony. I’ve watched them fail, and make mistakes, but so many of them keep going, never giving up. They feel the pain, but they don’t let it stop them. Even the six ponies who wield the Elements live with pain. I think that it has made them stronger, but I still know so little. I have not truly felt their suffering. Perhaps I never will. I don’t know whether or not to celebrate that fact. I do know that trying to ignore pain, in myself or in others, does not make it go away.”

For a moment, the hall was silent. Even the water paused in its flow.

“It was so much easier,” Celestia said, “when I didn’t care.” For the first time since Luna had come into the room, the white alicorn moved; she closed her eyes. “I don’t know why it matters so much to me. I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself. I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me. I think that’s what hurts the most.”

The princess of the night leapt forward with a flap of her wings and wrapped her forehooves around her sister, hugging the other alicorn close. Luna’s grip slipped on a cold, hard surface, but after a heartbeat she felt the icy shell covering Celestia begin to crack, and then it was gone. She smiled as she felt her fellow princess return the hug. She whispered, “I felt the same for so long, and I’ve only just realized that what’s done is done. If you’ve wronged somepony, there’s nothing you can do to change that fact. All you can do is try to be the best pony you can to them, and work to make up for what you’ve done, even if that’s impossible. Even if it still hurts. We both may be beyond redemption, but there’s always hope. You may still be able to reconcile with your most faithful student. Ponies can be strange and wonderful, and there are some that will forgive the unforgivable just to see you smile.”

Celestia spoke, her mouth finally moving to form the sounds. “Perhaps you’re right, Luna. At the very least, I can try. I owe Twilight that much. There was a report earlier that her life was in danger. Is she safe?”

“Yes, sister,” Luna replied as she broke the long embrace, “But she has been convinced to turn against you by one of the remaining alicorns. The one that rules over the forest around our old home, in fact.”

The regent of the day nodded. Her countenance was still hard, but it no longer looked cruel, and her eyes were warm again. “Then let us go. My students need me.”

The alicorns disappeared, and the throne room was left dark and silent in the warm air of a gentle summer night.
> Chapter 6, Part 2: Magic
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

As soon as Luna and Celestia disappeared from the image in the pool, it faded. Twilight Sparkle blinked at the clear water as the sudden silence weighed on her. She did not remember having fallen to her haunches, but the mare found that she was sitting on the loose pages that carpeted most of Ever Free’s library.  Her mentor’s words echoed in her mind, and something deep inside of her threatened to claw its way out. She clenched her throat and held it in; she did not know whether it would have emerged as a laugh or a scream. 

The librarian flinched at the impact of a hoof on stone behind her. It was followed by another strike, then more in slow and even rhythm as Ever Free broke into a grim applause that echoed through the cavern. His voice dripped with a droll venom as he spoke, “Oh, good show. The crocodile tears of immortal tyrants are always so very moving.”

“What reason do you have to doubt our sincerity?” Luna asked from her place on the other side of the scrying pool. The princess of the night stood next to her sister, who had regained the warm glory to which Twilight Sparkle was accustomed. A ghost of a smile crossed the unicorn’s lips as she gazed at the waving rainbow of Celestia’s mane.

Ever Free allowed his hoof to drop a final time, grinding it into the floor as he sneered at the new arrivals. “What reason do I have to believe you? I trusted you in the past, and it brought only grief. You won’t pull the wool over my eyes so easily now. You only act for your own benefit; your appeals to virtue are hollow.” 

He gestured to the five from Ponyville with a wing as he glared across the pool at the sisters. “Loyalty, to you. Generosity, to those who have served you. Kindness, to those you favor. Laughter, at those who oppose you. Honesty, when it suits you. You twist these blessings to suit your own ends. I pity the bearers of your tools.”

Ever Free ignored the pointed glares and hurt looks of the mortal ponies. His twisted face softened as his smile became genuine. “But” he continued, “I do not believe that Twilight Sparkle is as easily manipulated as most of these sycophants. Am I right, little one? Do you accept their royal lies at face value? Are you like your  poor friends here?”

Twilight glanced over her shoulder at Ever Free, meeting his gaze for a moment before looking across the pool. The intent curiosity in Luna’s eyes was familiar; the librarian had often seen it in the mirror. Celestia’s visage held only the same hopeful pride that had always filled it. The mare could not bear to look at her friends. She did not know whether she was failing them or they were failing her, but the doubts remained all the same. Her eyes dropped to her hooves and she studied them intently as she answered, “I... I don’t know.”

“What I showed you,” Luna called out, “was not a trick! The image was true, the words were true, and I felt the sincerity of my sister’s answers. She cares for you, not as a means to an end, but as a pony. You are very dear to her, oh Bearer of Magic,” her eyes swept across the mortal ponies, lingering for a moment on Applejack as she continued, “and you are all very dear to me.”

Twilight Sparkle forced herself to meet her mentor’s eyes. They held the same joy and pride that always filled them when the alicorn looked at her. Celestia opened her mouth as if to speak, but no sound came. The princess merely nodded once, slowly.

For the first time in weeks, she felt a spark of hope.

“You are a pawn to her, Twilight,” Ever Free hissed. “Never forget that. She used you and she would use any of us. We are just her creations, toys built to serve her purpose.”

For the first time in Twilight Sparkle’s memory, princess Celestia raised her voice. Indignation filled the shouted words, “Not anymore! Much has changed since you took your leave of the world; I am not as I was. I care for the race of ponies as a mother cares for her children.”

Ever Free reared and neighed, drawing all eyes as his own rolled in rage. With a powerful beat of his wings, he leaped over the six mares from ponyville and landed in the middle of the scrying pool. The splash shattered the serenity of the water, but the shallow basin barely wet the stallion’s matted fetlocks. He began to take a step toward the princesses, who watched his rage impassively, but he stopped, trembling. He put his hoof down and spoke, his voice building from a whisper to a roar as his words spilled forth, “You dare? You dare speak to me of children? After what your sister did to us... you dare!?” 

Celestia dropped her gaze, but her eyes flicked to Twilight before they settled on the ground. “I am not proud of it. Never think that, whatever else you believe of us, my little pony. It was my failure and my fault, and I’m sorry.”

Luna placed a hoof on her sister’s side, looking up at the other mare as she spoke words of comfort, “You did the best you could. Falling short of perfection is not failure, sister.”

The princess of the day smiled down at the other alicorn. “In this, Luna, I believe that it is. My imperfection caused them so much suffering.” She sighed. “I cannot shrug off that blame so easily.”

“Nor,” the dark mare countered with a frown, “should you take the blame upon yourself for something that you could not have foreseen.”

Ever Free snorted. “And so the fault disappears entirely in this divine cup game? Do you think that a few switches and some slight of hoof can make atrocities disappear like so many grifters’ tokens? Whatever fault Celestia bears, yours is far greater, tyrant of the night. Whatever else I may forget, I will not forget that it was you that dealt the deathblow to my race. You are the one that turned our children into these...,” the stallion gestured to the mortal mares behind him with a dismissive hoof, “beings. You took their strength, their grace, and their magic, and left them with a feeble shadow of one of their three birthrights. Worst of all, you took their immortality, as limited as it was in the hooves of my race. You made us watch our children die. A generation born feeble, that passed on so quickly. Is it any wonder that we finally collapsed? I have scryed, Luna. The few alicorns that remain are not in so fine a state as I have managed to keep myself.” He took a final look over his shoulder at the assemblage of unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies that were the bearers of the Elements of Harmony and shook his head in silence.

“I am sorry,” Luna replied, “What more can I say? My intervention was not all that I had hoped. I erred in judgement; I did not know your kind as well as I thought I did. In hindsight, I see many of the mistakes I made. Still, I had to do what I could to save the alicorns, when the research my sister was doing with-,” she cut herself off as Celestia shot her a warning glance. The dark alicorn nodded up at the other princess and continued, “When my sister’s research failed.”

Ever Free turned and began to pace in the basin, each step sending ripples through the water with an audible splash. “Why? Why did you take it upon yourselves to attempt to ‘save’ us? Do you think we would not have seen our doom approaching? Do you think we would not have acted on our own until the last of us was dead?” The stallion looked from Luna to Celestia and back. “Why didn’t you just leave well enough alone?”

“The plight of the alicorns was my fault,” Celestia said. “I could not ‘leave well enough alone’ as you say. I anticipated the extinction of your race due to a flaw in design. As your designer, I felt as though it was my problem to fix.”

Ever Free turned to the mortal ponies and threw a hoof toward the princess of the day. “There it is, my little ponies. There is the unbridled arrogance that is the essence of our goddesses. They flaunt the power they have over us. In their eyes, we are not worthy of true consideration. They care for us not as equals, but as a project, a hobby. Their concerns are above our own, and our desires are taken into account last, if they are considered at all. You have all been pawns in their petty squabble, Twilight Sparkle most of all. She is not the first nor will she be the last. I have written of it, I have read of it, and now I see it before my very eyes, as I no doubt have many times before.” He stared for a few heavy seconds at the six before spun to face the princesses. 

Luna and Celestia frowned, but neither spoke.

“It was our problem,” the stallion continued. “We were the ones dying. We were the ones that felt every loss. Even if when we could no longer remember their faces. Especially then...” he trailed off, falling silent.

“I felt every loss as well,” Luna whispered, “and that is precisely what drove me to act.”

“To act like a fool,” Ever Free spat. “We watched our children die because of you.”

Celestia took a step into the pool as her eyes filled with compassion. “I have experienced that pain as well, Ever Free. I watch all of my children die.”

The stallion snorted. “You watch all of your creations die. It is not the same thing. You have never lost a mate. You have never lost a naturally-born child.” He ran a hoof slowly across the surface of the water, watching the ripples for a moment before shaking his head. “I feel little for the beasts of this forest, but the heartache of two deaths filled this library. These shelves are an epitaph. Read the books and know my pain, if you can, but do not speak as though you understand me until you have.” He turned away from the sisters, and his head drooped as his eyes closed.

It was the first time Twilight had seen any emotion other than frothing rage, manic glee, or smug self-satisfaction on that face.

Celestia spoke, her voice soft, “The lines on a page can never be more than the faintest echo of what true feeling is. All the pain of all the words in all the libraries in the world add up to far less than a single broken heart.” She sighed, long and slow. “If you could feel what I feel instead of hearing what I say, and I could do the same for you, then perhaps we would truly understand each other. In any case, you’re wrong. I have lost a mate to Luna’s blessing. Even today, nearly five centuries later, I still feel it. The only thing that truly scares me,” she paused, her eyes flicking to Twilight Sparkle for a fraction of an instant, “is the idea of ever feeling it again.”

“If that is so,” Ever Free replied, “then why don’t you want her punished? Have you not also suffered from her actions?”

Celestia snorted. “I forgave my sister for that. It is an example you would do well to consider. Even if I were to punish Luna, what would you have me do? What penance would you demand from her that would fit what she has done?”

“Demand?” the stallion questioned incredulously, “You ask what I demand? You humor me, but we both know that I am in no position to demand anything from you. There is no higher authority. I have no means by which to resist your wills. Compared to yours, my magic is but a candle against the sun.” He sighed and fell to his haunches with a light splash. He gazed into the clear water before him, his eyes wide. “I’ve waited five thousand years for this confrontation, Celestia. I thought that you would come for me sooner. I thought that I would have more to say when you did, but I know that I cannot make you pay for your crimes. I can only appeal to whatever decency you may have, if there is any within that flawless shell.

“Perhaps these witnesses,” he said, tossing his head toward the mares behind him, “are enough to make you pretend that you do. You put on a good show of benevolence for them, princess, even if your true self slips through now and again. I suppose this is the best I could have hoped for, even if it’s a grim chance. What do I demand, Celestia? I have no ground to stand on for demands, but I do ask one thing of your sister. It is the same thing I would ask of you, for your role in all of this. I want you both to do what you should have done a long time ago. I want you to abdicate.” His gaze grew sharp as he met Celestia’s eyes, and his words hardened to match it. “I want you to leave the Equestria, and never return.”

“No!” Applejack’s voice rang out, and all eyes turned to her. 

The farmer adjusted her hat, pulling the brim down as she looked away from the rest of the ponies. She said nothing more, but her outburst seemed to break the spell of magic or psychology that kept her fellows silent. Their voices rose in an unintelligible cacophony, protests jumbling together into a horrified objection.

“Enough!” Ever Free roared over his shoulder at them, “did I not tell you that you were to be silent?”

“Let them speak,” Luna said, “They have a right to be heard.”

“What right?” the stallion asked, “This discussion is beyond their ken. I have lived long enough to learn all they know, and far more.”

The dark alicorn snorted. “I could say the same of you, young one. Even if you were as old as me, that would not mean you’d have all my knowledge, nor I yours. I’ve lived as long as my sister, near enough, but we did not learn the same things at the same time.” 

Luna looked up at Celestia as she continued, “My sister taught me how to manipulate the building blocks of all things and I taught her how to manipulate the space between. Each of us knew one of these things for a longer time than you can fathom before we finally shared that knowledge with each other. If we had never tried to learn from each other, the world would be a very different place, and ponies would not exist.

“More to the point,” the mare continued, turning her gaze back to Ever Free, “if she had not created your race, my sister and I would not have the knowledge that we do now. We were ancient when she formed the alicorns, but we learned from them. It was your people that taught us language, for example. There is no reason to speak when only one pony exists to communicate with and limitless time and power with which to show them what you mean. That method was sufficient for millions of years, but our conversations, such as they were, spanned centuries. Language distilled feelings and impressions and doubts and hopes and fears that I could not have expressed in all the eons my sister and I spent together into a simple sound that represented so much more. I cannot describe the joy I felt when I first called this pony ‘sister’.” She nuzzled Celestia and other alicorn beamed and returned the gesture. 

Ever Free’s mouth twisted in contempt, but he did not speak.

Luna favored the scarred alicorn with a nod of respect. “Necessary or not, speech is useful, eloquent, and beautiful. I have your kind to thank for that gift. We never would have come up with it on our own. A difference in perspective, priorities, or experience can yield unique insights.” The princess pointed a hoof across the pool and smiled at the mares from Ponyville. “These ponies are different in so many ways, and there is great value in that. In the last few weeks, they have taught me more than I would have considered possible a thousand years ago. If I can find value in their words,” she said, addressing the stallion, “then you can as well.”

Celestia nodded. “Absolutely. I still remember fondly the mortal stallion who taught me so much about ponies, and about myself. You too should try to learn the lessons that these mares can teach.”

“Fine,” Ever Free huffed, “but save the vapid objections. There is little to learn from a pony shouting ‘no’ at me. The point remains: you two need to leave.”

“Why?” Luna asked, “What purpose does it serve? It would prevent nothing; I have no intention of making the same mistake twice. I will be the first to admit that I should not have taken the fates of all ponies into my hooves so casually, but I have suffered for it and continue to suffer. Why ask for more?”

“It would be justice,” the stallion spat.

Celestia tilted her head. “Justice for what crimes?” she asked.

“The slaying of somepony very dear to me, for one,” he replied, looking from one sister to the other and back. “I accuse you both of the murder of Golden Rose. What do you have to say for yourselves?”

Twilight’s eyes widened and a shock passed through her as she heard the too-familiar name. As she had so often in class, she found herself blurting out a correction to a misrepresented point of history. “They didn’t kill Golden Rose, Ever Free! Heavens Sparkle did.”

Celestia hung her head, shaking it slowly. Luna just looked on, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Ever Free turned just far enough to fix one glaring eye on the librarian “What?” he asked, his voice low.

Twilight Sparkle trembled. Something in the stallion’s tone caused her eyes to widen and her vision tunnel. The mare’s heart began to pound in her chest as her breathing quickened. She felt the primal urge to bolt, to run, to put as much distance as she could between herself and the ancient being before her. She found that she could not; his unwavering gaze seemed to pin her in place. She swallowed, pushing her instincts to the back of her mind. She was a rational pony, and she was right about a fact. That was enough.

That had always been enough.

She looked over her shoulder as her horn began to glow. A matching aura appeared around her bag, which rose from the reading table and deposited itself in front of her. She reached a hoof in and poked around, moving books aside until the telltale glint of gold alerted her to the volume she wanted. The unicorn levitated The Journal of Heavens Sparkle out of its pocket, and turned the gilt-leaf flower on the cover toward the alicorns. “Was... was this her cutie mark?” she asked, flinching slightly despite herself.

Luna gasped and raised a hoof to cover her mouth as her eyes widened in horror.

Ever Free nodded slowly. “It is.” He frowned. “What book is that and what does it have to do with her?”

Twilight Sparkle swallowed and opened the journal, flipping through it as she began to babble, “This is Heavens Sparkle’s journal. He’s... a distant relative of mine who lived a long time ago. Most of the text is about his mentor, his family, and his friends. The last few entries, though, are very dark. His son was born deformed, passed the deformity on to another generation of children, and died young. Heavens Sparkle went mad with grief. He blamed it on his mate, Golden Rose, and killed her. But he was wrong, it wasn’t her. When he learned that, he passed the journal on to his grandson before going into seclusion to keep himself from hurting anypony else.” The librarian looked up and gave Ever Free a hopeful half-smile as the glowing pages continued to turn themselves.

“His mate? What do you mean his mate?” the stallion asked, his tone split evenly between confusion and anger. “Golden Rose was my mate!”

The librarian and the pages both stopped. Twilight’s eyes widened, then flicked from the book to one of the papers that covered the floor and back as she compared the lines of ink. The hornwriting was identical. The mare’s ears folded back as realization overtook her. She gazed across the pool, and the pity in the eyes of the princesses confirmed her worst fears. “You’re right,” she replied, her voice weak.

“Of course I’m right.” He frowned. “So who is Heavens Sparkle?”

Twilight shook as she considered whether the alicorn would be more angered by silence or by her response.

Celestia sighed. “It’s hard to say this, Ever Free, but you deserve to know. You are Heavens Sparkle,” Celestia replied. “You wrote that journal.”

For a few heartbeats, nopony spoke. 

“Lies,” Ever Free whispered. “This is a trick. I loved Golden Rose. I would never have... I could never have killed her. It was you!” he shouted, jabbing a hoof at the other alicorns, “I know it.”

“How do you know?” Luna asked.

The stallion drew himself up to his full height. “I wrote it down, so that I could never forget. I read it every day, so the words stay fresh.”

“An’ how,” Applejack called out, “do you know you wrote the truth?”

Ever Free frowned. “Why would I lie to myself?”

“Why wouldn’t you lie, if the truth were so,” Rarity paused, shuddering, “absolutely horrible?” 

Rainbow Dash scoffed, “It wouldn’t change what he did. What’s the point?”

“It must have hurt so much, to know,” Fluttershy said, “I mean, if it were me I might...” As all eyes turned to her, she disappeared behind Applejack with a squeak.

Pinkie Pie scratched her head with a hoof. “It’s like a surprise party, but backward. Or maybe sideways or inside out. Hide something bad so you don’t know about it ‘till one day you open the door and it all hits you at once.” Her ears folded back. “I’ve never said this before, but I wish we hadn’t been invited to this party.”

“This is foolishness!” Ever Free shouted, “and I will not stand for such defamation. Even if I were this ‘Heavens Sparkle’, that story is just a way for them to frame me for the crimes that they committed.”

“Why would they do that?” Pinkie Pie asked.

“Well... well,” the stallion stammered, “it’s quite clearly a trick. A way to make it look like my accusations are unfounded. To turn you against me.”

“We were already against you,” Rainbow Dash said, rolling her eyes, “duh.”

“It all just seems like so much trouble to go through to deflect only one accusation,” Rarity added, “How did they know that Twilight would bring the book? Or that you would go after Twilight? Or any number of things, for that matter.”

“The tyrant of the sun plans so far in advance that you could not possibly imagine the scale,” Ever Free insisted, “She twists every eventuality to her own end, and leaves nothing to chance. I would not be surprised if you all being here now was her plan all along.”

Celestia sighed. “I wish I could be as competent as you think I am, Heavens Sparkle. I would not have made so many mistakes, overlooked so much, failed so destructively. Even if I was too familiar with power in the past, my days of heartless manipulation are behind me. I no longer have the desire to be a tyrant. This meeting is your doing, not mine.”

“Lies, it is all lies,” the stallion murmured, his eyes wide as he stared at the ground. “You cannot trust anything that she says.”

“You are Heavens Sparkle,” Celestia insisted. She took a few steps into the pool and stopped in front of Ever Free as her horn began to glow. “You can deny it, you can run from it, you can hide for thousands of years as you cover yourself with scars to disfigure what lies beneath, but you cannot escape it in the end. You are who you are, Heavens. The things you have done do not go away when you lie to yourself. You have committed an unspeakable crime, but it need not define you. I have seen the good within you, the joy and the life.” She smiled at the stallion, and the white aura around her horn grew.

The other alicorn refused to meet her gaze. He clenched and unclenched his jaw as he frowned at the water beneath her.

Celestia reached out a hoof and placed it under Ever Free’s chin, raising his muzzle until she could look him in the eyes. “You have shrouded yourself in darkness, putting distance and ground and scars and hatred between yourself and any who could help you. You covered your pain with vitriol and tried to forget the wounds inside of you instead of treating them. It is all buried so deep, but who you truly are never goes away. No matter how black you make your heart, the light inside can still shine through.” 

The brilliance of Celestia’s magic grew, and Twilight raised a leg to block the glare just before a final flash hit. For a few moments the unicorn was struck blind, but as she blinked her sight began to return.

The pair of alicorns in the pool had not moved. The only thing different was Heavens Sparkle’s flanks: a yellow, five-pointed star marked each one. 

“Even as I speak, the events I showed to you are fading from your memory, Heavens Sparkle,” Celestia said, “but it should be enough to see that what I said was truth; you saw what you did on that day.”

The stallion nodded mutely, his eyes wide as he stared past the princess.

“Princess Celestia?” Twilight asked hesitantly, “what did you do?”

The alicorn turned to smile at her student. “I showed him what happened, all those years ago. I showed him who he was, and he responded.” She glanced at Heavens Sparkle with a quizzical frown. “I did not expect the process to restore his cutie mark, though,” she added.

The stallion gave his head a shake as he blinked, seeming to come to his senses. He stood, water dripping from his coat, and a red aura surrounded his horn. With a flash, he dried himself, then turned toward Twilight. The alicorn’s scarlet aura surrounded the Journal of Heavens Sparkle, wrenching it from the librarian’s magic grasp. It floated to Heavens, who gazed longingly at the rose on the cover for a moment. He flipped the tome over and studied the five-pointed star that adorned the back of the tome and matched his cutie mark. “I... have reading to do, and much to think upon.”

Celestia smiled at him. “When you are ready to talk about this, old friend, please pay me a visit in Canterlot.”

“I don’t know if I will ever be ready. Not for this.” The stallion sighed. “I can’t bear to look at your face. On some level, I still believe you did it, even though I know that’s not true. I was so sure. Talk? To you? Not this century. Maybe I’ll be able to write.” He glanced at the crowd of mortal ponies. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t strong enough.” With a final burst of red light, the alicorn and his journal disappeared.

For a heartbeat, the library was silent.

“Wahoo!” Rainbow Dash yelled, pounding her hooves into the floor in applause, “Way to go princess!”

“Oh, good show indeed your grace, well done,” Rarity added, bringing her hooves together politely to add to her friend’s ovation.

“That was just about the best light show ever,” Pinkie Pie raved, “You’re awesome, princess!”

Celestia nodded in acknowledgement at the celebrating ponies, a slim smile upon her lips.

“So... is it over? Did that put everythin’ to rights?” Applejack asked.

“No,” Twilight stated, “I don’t think it did.” She addressed her mentor, “Princess, who was he?”

Celestia smiled at her student. “As you saw, he was Heavens Sparkle.”

“Not his name,” the unicorn replied, her voice a dull monotone. “Who was he to you? How did you know him?”

“He was her research assistant and personal student,” Luna said, and her sister nodded.

“How long have you known he lived here?” Twilight asked.

“I knew where he disappeared to as soon as he left,” Celestia replied

The librarian frowned. “Why didn’t you do that,” she paused, gesturing with a hoof to the space that Heavens had occupied at the center of the pool, “thing before?”

“Because I didn’t know that he blamed me for the death of his mate,” the princess answered, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“You would have known,” Twilight snapped, “if you had talked to him.”

“I suppose...,” Celestia trailed off as she tilted her head. “What are you asking, Twilight?”

“But you didn’t talk to him, did you?” the unicorn asked.

“Twilight,” Celestia began.

“You just didn’t care,” the mare spat, interrupting her mentor.

“That’s not true,” Celestia insisted, stomping a hoof in frustration.

“Then why didn’t you go and comfort him when he realized what he did, try to help him get better, recover for his madness?” Twilight asked, “Or if you were a tyrant, why didn’t you lock him up?” Her voice fell. “He just didn’t matter one way or another to you, did he?

Celestia looked away from her student. “I was different in the past. My priorities with regard to ponies were not what they should have been, were not what they are now.”

The unicorn tilted her head. “Then what were you thinking?” 

“I believed...,” the alicorn hesitated, her eyes running over the forest of bookshelves that filled the cavern, “I believed that he deserved to get the space he wanted.”

Twilight snorted and spoke in the sardonic tone that had come so much easier to her before she’d made any friends, “Well it clearly wasn’t what he needed.”

Celestia’s face fell. “I could not have known-”

“And if your priorities are so far improved now,” the librarian cut in, “then why haven’t you contacted him recently? Reached out to him?” She paused. “Told him about his descendants?”

“I’ve been... stubborn.” The princess sighed. “In hindsight, I ought to have acted sooner,” she added with a nod.

“Acted!?” Twilight Sparkle shouted, leaping to her hooves as righteous indignation overtook her. “You shouldn’t have acted! You should have talked. How could you think that it’s okay to just appear out of the blue and sweep away five thousand years of bitter feelings and ignoring each other?” She pointed a hoof at her mentor and jabbed it forward to punctuate her points. “He had every reason to distrust you; if he forgot killing his mate and you haven’t seen him since then, then it seems certain he’s forgotten everything he really knew about you. It would have been hard, but you could have talked to him, convinced him. You could have tried! Didn’t he deserve that much, at least, despite what he did? You could have saved your friendship, or built a new one. Isn’t that what’s important? Friendship is new to me, but I know that you can make magic with friendship. I don’t think it works the other way around. You barely let him process what he’d learned before you stepped in and zapped his concerns away. Now he’s gone. Do you know where he is?” She glanced around, an exaggerated expression of vapid ignorance on her face. Her visage hardened as it returned to Celestia. “Because I don’t. Did you think that maybe I’d want to talk to him, now that I know he’s my however-many-times-great grandfather? Did you even think about it?” She snorted in derision. “I guess not. What’s a personal student one way or the other? You’ll always have another one in a generation or two.”

Twilight sighed. The look of hurt growing in her mentor’s eyes tormented the unicorn, but it did not stop more words from spilling forth. “Could that have been me? If you can let one personal student rot away alone in a library, stewing in misplaced bitterness, why not another? Would you have simply left me there?  If I’d ever gathered enough courage to send you a letter, would you have answered it? He didn’t remember what he’d been to you, but you did. I don’t have the words to express what you are to me, but with your knowledge, you must. Why didn’t you try to remind him? Why didn’t you try to teach me?” She sank to the ground, lying at the edge of the scrying pool, and dipped a hoof in. For a moment, she just watched the ripples spread. “You know me better than I know myself, but I feel like I don’t know you at all. There’s just so much to you that I can’t see it all, and I can’t tell whether I’m looking at part of a face or part of a mask.” When the water stilled, Twilight studied her reflection. She didn’t think that scars would have looked good on her. She wondered if she had any choice in the matter; perhaps they would find her whether or not she sought them out

Twilight put a hoof through the image in the pool, banishing it. She spoke again, weary defeat heavy in her words, “How do we know that you did what you said? How do I know you didn’t just cast a spell of obedience or show him something untrue? Would you do the same to me?” Twilight looked up at her mentor and stared at the torque around the alicorn’s neck. She couldn’t force her gaze any higher. ”How can I ever look you in the eyes again?” she whispered.

“If I explained myself,” Celestia replied, “would you believe me?” There was no hope in the alicorn’s voice, only resignation.

Twilight closed her eyes as her head lowered. “I wish I knew.”

The librarian started as she felt a hoof on her shoulder. She looked up to see Luna smiling down at her, and Applejack standing at the alicorn’s side. The others from Ponyville clustered around Twilight, concern plain on all their faces. The princess of the night spoke, her voice low and kind, “Bearer, you have doubts. I understand. We all have doubts; even I have doubts about my sister, as she has doubts about me. We have spent a long time together and have not always been in accord. We have lied to each other, insulted each other, hurt each other. I even betrayed her, becoming a twisted shadow of my true self in the process. I could have ruined all that we worked together to achieve. She knows that I still have the capacity for that sort of act, and after seeing her today, I know that she has that capacity as well. I don’t think either of us will succumb, but neither of us can truly be sure. Even with that knowledge, I trust her.”

“Why?” Twilight whispered.

Luna looked across the pool at her sister. “A month ago, I wouldn’t have been able to answer that, but now... now I think I can. There are many reasons,” she said, turning toward Rainbow Dash. “I trust her because she is my sister, the only being I can call family, and that bond is worth preserving.”

The princess nodded at Rarity, who bowed at the acknowledgement. “I trust her,” the alicorn continued, “because I must. The balance of this world is disrupted when we are at odds, and we cannot accomplish anything for anypony if we cannot work together with confidence.”

Pinkie Pie beamed as Luna’s gaze fell on her. “I trust her because I want to. It makes me happy to do so because she makes me happy. We cannot enjoy each others’ company if we cannot trust each other.” 

Luna smiled at Fluttershy, who averted her gaze, hiding behind a curtain of pink mane. The alicorn giggled. “I trust her because it hurts to be distrusted, and I don’t want her to feel that pain.”

Applejack blushed as Luna nuzzled her neck. The princess of the night looked back down at Twilight. “Most of all, I trust her because she is an honest pony. She does not always tell the whole truth. She did not always tell the truth at all.  I thought that such things were dishonesty, but a wise mare once told me that honesty isn’t about telling the truth; it’s about being worth trusting. You trusted my sister your whole life. Think of what she gave you, what you learned, how much you enjoyed being her student. Look at what you have now,” Luna said, her hoof pointing to each of her friends in turn.

“We’re here for you Twilight, no matter what you decide,” Rainbow Dash insisted with a cocky grin. The other mares nodded, and the librarian felt a pair of hooves wrap gingerly around her neck as Fluttershy pulled her into a hug. Twilight Sparkle opened her mouth, but she was too overcome to say anything; she didn’t know what words could have expressed her appreciation even if she had been able to speak.

“The question to ask is not ‘can I trust her?’” Luna said, “the question is: ‘is she worth trusting?’”

“What do you say, Twilight Sparkle?” Celestia asked as the other ponies moved aside to let her approach her student. “Will you give me a chance to explain myself? Will you let me try to assuage your doubts?”

Twilight smiled up at her mentor and stood. “No,” she said, “I won’t. More words for me to pick apart? I would only see what I wanted to see in them anyway. I’ll trust you, princess. If anypony is worth trusting, it’s you.”

Celestia stepped forward and hugged the unicorn, pulling the other mare close as she whispered, “Oh, my most faithful student... I cannot express how much I missed you.”

Twilight Sparkle did not doubt that the words were true. She simply smiled, and trusted, and the moment glowed like magic in her heart.
> Final Interlude: Love
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well. Here I am again, and there you still are.” Heavens Sparkle said. He had never heard his own voice sound so weary. His mouth twisted in distaste. Still, it was better than his old fire and bite, more justified at the very least. He leaned forward, leaning the tip of his horn against the black marble obelisk before him and releasing a long, slow breath. He stood in a place of rest, but such repose was not for him. He couldn’t bring himself to cast off his burdens so easily. Life was a more fitting punishment.

A thick curtain of gray fog hid the seemingly endless field of graves that surrounded the alicorn. It did not matter; he had never paid the rest of the cemetery much attention. That much, at least, had not changed since the night before. The stallion only had eyes for the stone front of him, and for the gilding upon it. He had only ever had eyes for her... or so he hoped. 

That too may have been a lie, but Heavens didn’t think so. 

“Every day, for thousands of years. I don’t know what I expect. It’s not like you’re going to come out to have a conversation.” He sighed. “Every day. How long has it been since I said I was sorry? How long ago did I decide to forget? Who was I, when you were still alive?”

Heavens Sparkle reached out a hoof, and traced the the gleaming stem of the inlaid rose that marked the grave. Her cutie mark was immortalized in gold; it was only fitting. “Would you still be able to love me, as I am today? Could you ignore my scars? Would you forgive me for what I did? Would you want bury it all, to forget, the way I did?”

The stallion laughed, a bark of bitterness and self-derision. “If you were here, there would be nothing to forgive! I’m not making any sense, am I?” His conciliatory smile had no impact on the stone.

“I suppose you’re surprised, if you have any capacity for it. What happened to the angry ranting? The swearing of vengeance and eternal hatred?” Heavens fell to his haunches and rubbed the back of his head with a hoof. “I don’t suppose I could convince you that I got tired of it? No? It’s the truth, believe it or not, even if it’s not the whole truth. I was tired of it, but I had been so tired for so long that I just didn’t realize it anymore. Admittedly, that doesn’t explain this,” he said as he looked over his shoulder, taking in the sight of the five pointed star on his flank. It was alien to him, but still somehow familiar, like something glimpsed long ago, in a half-forgotten dream. “Does it?

“I’ll tell you all about it... eventually. When I’m ready. It’s not like we don’t have the time, is it, my love?” Heavens sighed. He looked around and took in the sight of a world that seemed to fade into a grey obscurity a few hoofsteps away. For once, his perception of space matched his perception of time. The thought amused him, and his lips curled upward.

The smile was sickly. It faded almost as soon as it appeared.

“I’ve been reading a bit of what I wrote before I... well... you know. Or rather, I know. Now. It’s a journal. I was so happy, then. You’re in it. Well, of course you’re in it.” The stallion closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m babbling. You’re just so beautiful, even there on the page, and when I’m reading, it feels like I can almost see you out of the corner of my eye, smiling or laughing or just standing beside me. I can’t remember any of it, but it feels so familiar, like I could almost reach out and touch you.” He extended a hoof, and felt it press against cold, unyielding stone. “But I can’t. I never will, and it hurts to read about when I could. To read about when we were together. When we were happy. It hurts, but it’s a good hurt. A cleansing hurt, like a tension that’s built for so long and is finally, finally breaking. A more merciful pain than I deserve, to be sure.”

He clenched his eyes, trying to call forth a vision of the mare he loved. He wracked his memory  for any scrap or fragment of a broken image, but came up short. All that he could see was a golden rose on a black stone obelisk, a grave where a mare should have been.

“I miss you,” he breathed.

Long minutes passed before Heavens Sparkle spoke again.

“What else is there to say?” He tapped his chin with a hoof. “I suppose I can bore you with shop talk for a bit. There’s nothing new, really, though I’ve gotten a bit of inspiration for a new project. I think it might be similar to some of my early experiments, but I can’t be sure; a fire destroyed all my notes from that era at some point. I wonder if that was why I invented that fireproofing charm.”

The stallion snorted. “I’m just putting it off, aren’t I?” He sighed. “I don’t know why I’m nervous. Maybe when you do something every day for as long as you can remember, and centuries more besides, even the small details become set in place. They become important, hard to change, even if change is an improvement. Yellow roses to match your mane, every day. I hope you liked them, even if you aren’t going to be getting any more.”

Heavens Sparkle shot his most winning smile at the stone. It slipped as he remembered that the anger he was trying to defer could never have come. “No more flowers, you may ask? How can this be? Don’t be so quick to jump to conclusions, my love. I never said that. No more yellow roses, certainly. You see, my old journal reminded me of something I had forgotten long, long ago. Maybe even before...,” he trailed off and was silent for a few moments.

“I am referring, of course,” he continued with forced enthusiasm, “to your favorite color! All these years, I’ve been giving you flowers of the wrong hue. I don’t know how I failed to guess it before.” He glanced at his own coat and stretched a scarlet wing, watching it unfurl. “It does explain why you fell for somepony like me,” he joked.

He levitated the bouquet of flowers he’d left at the base of the stone the previous morning. With a crimson flash, they disappeared. “Things are different now. Out with the old, in with the new. Even if it hurts. Even these beauties have their thorns, after all.” He wove a bit of magic and a new bouquet appeared in front of him, twelve roses as red as blood. He laid it at the base of his mate’s gravestone.

“There. Roses of your favorite color. Much more fitting. At least some good has come of this. I’ll get out of your mane. I’ve got a lot more reading to do, after all. Maybe even some research.” He smiled, even though he didn’t feel like smiling.

“One last thing, before I go. I’ll say it now, and I’ll say it again. I’ll say it every day for the rest of eternity, if I live that long. I’m sorry, Golden Rose. I’m so sorry.”

With that, he disappeared.


* * * 


Luna levitated a pebble, studying it through the aura of her magic. The small, lumpy, irregular stone was a uniform and uninteresting grey; the royal gardens had countless paths and beds full of functionally identical bits of rock, all entirely unsuitable for her purposes.

The alicorn minded little. She didn’t care about what the pebbles were. It was the things she could do with them that truly mattered. There was destiny in this rock, as there had been destiny in so many lifeless rocks before. She balanced it on a hoof, and set it spinning with a burst of magic, turning the dull mass into a grey blur. She channeled energy into it, and the pebble began to glow red, then orange. When waves of heat radiated from the now brilliantly glowing blur, it began to distort. The stone bulged around its axis, slowly but surely transforming into a smooth, flat disk. When the shape satisfied Luna, she stopped it with a flash from her horn, and it came to a rest on her hoof. The glow stopped and the shimmer in the air disappeared as she cooled her work. She smiled; it was just about perfect.

The princess raised her hoof to her mouth and blew a gentle stream of air and magic onto the pebble. Its surface changed slowly from dull grey to brilliant green. She nodded to herself; it was ready.

Luna raised her hoof to her eye and squinted as she looked past the stone, to the opposite shore of the pond in front of her. Well, it might have been a bit big to call a pond, but it was certainly too small to call a lake. She had never been too clear on when a body of water stopped being one and started being the other. 

The mare blinked and shook her head, returning her focus to the pebble and what lay beyond. She took aim again, and with a flash of magic she propelled it toward the other shore.

The stone danced across the surface of the water, impacting with a splash at regular intervals before landing on the opposite shore among a pile of other skipping stones. Luna grinned; she was getting better. 

“Nice shot,” Celestia said from her place behind her sister.

The smaller alicorn smiled, but did not turn to face the other mare as she replied, “Hello sister. I am glad you could join me. No court today?”

Celestia snorted. “A lunch break, actually,” she replied. 

Luna could hear the grin in her sister’s words. The other mare’s mirth was infectious, and it crept into her own speech as she asked, “Do they know that you don’t need to eat?”

“What they don’t know,” Celestia whispered, “won’t hurt them.”

“I suppose,” the other princess replied with a laugh, “but I was enjoying myself before you interrupted. You could have waited until the evening.”

“And let you ruin all the good stones? I think not.”

A large black bird landed on a nearby branch, knocking loose a shower of leaves and catching the sisters’ attention. The beast’s oily black feathers and red prune of a wrinkled head did little to recommend its appearance.  As Luna studied it, the avian began to vibrate, and a loud buzzing emanated from it. She frowned up at it, somewhat concerned.

“Don’t worry, little sister. You’ll get used to it,” Celestia said.

“It seems that I will have to,” Luna agreed, looking over her shoulder at the other mare. “In any case, what brings you out to the garden on this fine day?”

“I could say,” the princess of the day answered as her lips curled into a half-smile, “that I’m just out to enjoy the sunshine, but the true answer is ‘curiosity.’”

“Curiosity?”

Celestia nodded. “So who is it?”

Luna’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Who’s who?”

“Your...” The white alicorn snickered. “special somepony?”

The other mare tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“There’s no point to playing coy, dear Luna. I can tell by your mane and tail,” Celestia said. She continued in a whisper, “The same thing happened to me.”

“So this...” Luna gestured to her newly colored mane, which rippled in a wind that wasn’t there. “Means something?”

“Oh my,” Celestia said, covering her grin with a hoof, “You don’t know, do you? That’s adorable.”

“Sister!” Luna stomped a hoof into the grass as she insisted, “I am not ‘adorable’”

“Whatever you say,” Celestia replied, her voice transparently insincere.

The dark mare rolled her eyes. “Will you at least tell me what you’re talking about?”

“Well,” the other princess replied, drawing the word out, “There’s a pony that you’ve been meeting, talking to, laughing with. A pony whose company you very much enjoy. A pony that you feel a special connection with. When they’re gone, you feel like something is missing, and when you’re with them, you feel complete. They bring you more joy than you ever thought a pony could.” She lowered her voice as she continued, “Most importantly, you know exactly what pony I’m talking about, do you not?”

Luna swallowed. For a moment, she had been sure that she could taste apples. “Perhaps. What of it?” 

“Dear sister, you...,” Celestia paused for a moment, allowing her self-satisfied smile to grow with the tension, “are in love.”

The other alicorn gaped at her sister. “Love? What do you mean, ‘love’?”

“Exactly what I said. Love. The kind of love that two ponies who raise foals together feel. Love that inspires poems and launches ships. Romantic love, Luna.”

“But we... they...,” Luna stammered, “I didn’t think that it was possible for us. Romance is theirs alone. We are not ponies.”

Celestia walked forward, stopping just shy of the water’s edge. She looked down, and a regal image on the calm surface stared back up at her. “I used to think that too, sister. I would have agreed that we are different from them, above them, but I relied too much on inconsequential measures.” The princess paused and reached out a hoof, brushing it across the surface. Ripples and waves banished Celestia’s reflection, and she turned away from the water before the dancing fragments of color could resolve themselves once more. “four hooves, two ears, haunches and withers, mane and tail, blood and biology. These things do not a pony make. The essential characteristic of ponykind is not a part of their bodies but a quality of their hearts. The feelings one pony has for another, the pain of loss, the joy of togetherness, those are what matter in their lives, and in our lives too.” She paused, and a fond smile spread slowly across her face as her gaze grew distant. “Love, Luna. Love makes them what they are. I see that you feel love; I too have felt it. We are not something different from them, separate and apart. We are mares, sister. Love makes us so.”

“So... you’re saying I love Applejack?” Luna’s eyes widened as the name left her lips.

“Oh?” Celestia asked with a knowing smirk, “Applejack is the one? She must be; you can remember her name. Very interesting. I wouldn’t have expected you to go for the muscular type, but to each her own.”

The princess of the night felt her jaw drop. She blinked at her sister for a moment before mustering a stammered reply. “That is not a factor in my opinion of Applejack.” Her ears folded back. “And could you please refrain from telling anypony about this? This matter requires... consideration.” She studied the ground intently, hoping fervently that the heat in her cheeks would dissipate if she ignored it.

Luna felt the reassuring touch of a hoof on her shoulder as Celestia spoke warmly,  “Sister, I would not be at all surprised if she already knew.” The princess paused, and a wry twist distorted her grin. “Though if she returns your feelings, I’ve no idea what she sees in you,” Celestia joked.

The dark mare snorted. “You’ve learned much of wit in the last thousand years.” She grinned. “Took you long enough.”

The sisters fell silent. A gust of wind rustled the trees and the buzzard flew off with an offended squawk. 

“You seem much closer to your current personal student than you were with any in the past,” Luna said, her conversational tone quite transparently forced.

Her sister nodded. “That is true.”

“Just how close are you?” the dark mare asked.

“I thought that would be painfully obvious by now, sister.” Celestia paused, then continued in a lower tone, “I’ll admit that I love her, and I know that she feels the same of me.”

Luna tilted her head. “Then why is she in Ponyville and not here, with you?”

Celestia sighed. “Because it is better for her. She deserves to live her own life, become her own mare. She will find her way back here, once she has learned the lessons that Ponyville has to teach. We will have time enough together.” She smiled, her tone brightening. “Until then, there are always letters. And the occasional visit, of course.”

“Of course,” Luna replied. She hesitated a moment before adding, “What about your other student?”

“He got what he needed. He will move past his anger, with time. If I know him, he’ll be back to his old research before we know it.,” Celestia said, and added with a decisive nod, “And I do know him.”

Luna frowned up at the other alicorn. “How much of this did you foresee, sister? How much did you plan?”

Celestia’s gaze grew distant as she looked away from her sister. “Enough of it, Luna. Enough.” Her horn flashed. “Now I must return to court. I hope you enjoy finishing your mural.” With a flap of her wings, she took off.

Luna stared across the lake, to where Celestia had rearranged the unordered pile of red and green stones into an outline of three apples, laid out on the grass. She smiled, levitated a fresh pebble, and set to work.


* * *


As Luna relaxed into the rough comfort of the grass beneath her back, the first star appeared in the night sky. 

“Well how’s that for timing?” Applejack said, “Moon ain’t even over the horizon yet and we’ve already got somethin’ ta gaze at. Leastways, we do if stargazin’ involves gazin’. I can never tell with you, Luna.” She frowned. “Come to think of it, not with anypony that’s got a horn. Y’all make things so much more complicated than they oughta be. What were we talkin’ about, again?” 

The alicorn laughed as she looked over at the pony lying beside her. The other mare’s questioning gaze only increased her amusement. “Gazing is pretty much all there is to it,” she assured Applejack.

The farmer snorted. “I still don’t know if I’m gonna enjoy this. I don’t think I’d be exaggeratin’ to say I’ve spent my whole life lookin’ at things. Doesn’t seem like stargazin’ is gonna be much of a challenge.”

“Don’t speak too soon, Applejack,” the alicorn said, “In an hour or so, you’ll have a lot more to gaze at.”

A few seconds passed in silence.

“Well, I’m bored.” the earth pony sighed. “Stars have names, right? What’s that first one called?” She pointed a hoof at the light in question.

“That,” Luna replied, “is the Evening Star, though next year it will be the Morning Star. That one recently became my favorite.”

“Why’s that?” Applejack asked.

The alicorn thought for a moment, trying to form words from impressions and assumptions and half-formed insights. When her answer came, she spoke slowly, but was sure of her words. “Because it’s the smallest, and the brightest, and the first, and the last,” she said. “It’s not a true star; it cannot match their size or power. It has precious little luminance of its own. Still, beings see it, and it inspires them. The Evening Star appears in poetry and stories of many cultures: ponies, zebras, dragons, buffalo, and more. It’s a fine example of how the importance of something is not determined solely by its size or radiance.” She paused, smiling as she whispered, “Sometimes, the things that touch our hearts the most are the things that are closest to us.”

“Ah,” the farmer replied simply. 

In time, the two had far more to gaze at. As the Luna stared up at the full moon, she found courage. “Have you ever experienced... romantic love?”

When the reply came, the alicorn heard amusement in the other mare’s voice. ‘“And here I thought I was bein’ as obvious as you.” Applejack chuckled softly to herself before continuing, “I hadn’t before a certain princess came and swept this farm filly off her hooves, sugar cube.”

Luna smiled up at the star-filled sky.
> Epilogue: Trust
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Princess Celestia,

Recently, I learned a very important lesson about friendship, and love, and all life. I learned about a treasure that is easy to break, difficult to repair, and infinitely precious. I learned about a gift that most ponies give warily, if at all; nothing else has such power to hurt its giver when rejected or neglected or misused.

I learned about trust. 

Trust is powerful. It can blind a pony to doubts, and allow them to act with absolute clarity of purpose. When a pony puts a piece of their fate in another’s hooves, those two ponies are bound together by a thread both subtle and powerful. The bonds of trust between parents and their children, between rulers and their subjects, between goddesses and their devotees, these are the things that hold societies together. Smaller in scope but no less important is the trust between friends, which lets us share our worries and fears, our hopes and dreams, and the secrets of our innermost selves. With these connections to those we depend on, and to those that depend on us, we do not have to face life alone. A pony that cannot trust is cut off from others in a way that no physical isolation could ever match.

Trust is dangerous. It numbs the part of us that doubts: the part that is cautious when a pony is driven to rush in, the part that seeks understanding when a pony only wants to condemn, the part that holds back when a pony prepares to lash out. When I trusted too much in my own assumptions, my own perspective, I lost sight of the larger picture. I judged other ponies and their motives poorly, and I acted because I was afraid of my ignorance when I should have waited until I was assured of my knowledge. When a pony trusts too quickly or unwisely, they build their life on a foundation of sand, and risk it falling to pieces at the first brush with reality.

Trust is beautiful. It can quell our fears and make us feel safe. It can silence our doubts, and give us the confidence we need to succeed. It can shatter our suspicion, and leave us with the innocence required for love. Trust can bring two very different ponies together and inspire them to open their hearts to each other. A lack of trust can open an insurmountable gulf between two ponies that love each other very dearly. The deepest of connections can only be made with those we trust.

I have learned my lesson. I will be wise with my trust. I will recognize it as a kindness, and give it generously and joyfully. I will be loyal to those I trust, and to those who trust me. Above all, I will be worth trusting, and seek out others who are also worth that confidence. I will be proud to call such ponies my friends.

Just as I am proud to call you my friend, princess.

-Your once again faithful student,

Heavens Sparkle