Twilight Sparkle's friends have lived long and happy lives. Now their time is coming to an end, but Rainbow Dash, at least, will not go gently. Twilight has the power to save her friend's life. Is it worth violating the natural order?
Twilight Sparkle's friends have lived long and happy lives. Now their time is coming to an end, but Rainbow Dash, at least, will not go gently. Twilight has the power to save her friend's life. Is it worth violating the natural order?
"The things that pull at your heart—the memorial in the prologue, the wedding in Chapter 1, the births and deaths and relationships to come—are not the point of the story: they are the stakes, and the story is at its heart about a decision that must be made." —horizon
The carriage wheels tore up small clumps of sod as they rolled through the cemetery, slowing to a halt before a row of pristine marble tombstones.
The unicorn pulling the carriage shrugged the harness over his rich vermilion coat and, with a heavy sigh, let it fall to the ground. His breath steamed faintly in the autumn air. He ambled to the side of the carriage and opened the door. “We’re here, Mom,” he said.
“Thank you, darling,” came the response from inside. “Help me down, please.”
An elderly white unicorn tottered out of the carriage, leaning heavily on her son as she went. Her withered legs were barely thicker than her horn, except for the swollen joints at knee and shoulder. Her mane was the same arresting violet it had been in her youth, but the chemicals Rarity used to maintain its color and shape had left the hairs thin and brittle. She wore an overcoat and shawl against the cold, all in black.
On her other side, she was supported by an old friend. Fluttershy’s body showed few signs of her age; although her mane had faded to a rose-tinted white, she moved with the grace and power of a mare of forty.
Behind them, a rolled-up blanket and a cloth bundle floated in a nimbus of azure light. Rarity’s magic, at least, was as strong as ever. She leaned on Fluttershy while she telekinetically spread the blanket in front of a tombstone. She made her slow way over, supported by the ponies on both sides, before they gently settled her onto the blanket.
The younger unicorn stood up. “I’ll be at the fountain when you need me.” He turned to go.
“Sunstone.” Fluttershy put a hoof on his shoulder. “It’s so sweet of you to take us out here.”
“I know how much this means to Mom. To both of you. I’m happy to do this.”
“One of my grandfoals should be helping you, at least.”
“I know how busy they are.” It was true enough. Between the apple harvest and preparations for her grandson’s wedding, the rest of her family didn’t have a spare moment between them. Sunstone wiped the sweat from his brow. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not too old to pull a carriage just yet.” He trotted off, leaving the two old friends alone.
They sat in silence. Wilted flowers covered the grave. Above them loomed raw granite inscribed with three apples.
“We should all be here,” said Rarity. “Like it used to be.”
“Pinkie couldn’t stay past the funeral,” said Fluttershy. “The foster stable needs her back in Fillydelphia. Twilight said she was going to talk to Rainbow Dash and try to get her to come. They might show up after all.”
“That’s not what I meant,” said Rarity.
Fluttershy draped a wing over Rarity and pulled her close. She felt her friend shivering through the overcoat. “You’re cold. We should get started.”
Rarity nodded. Fluttershy unwrapped the bundle to expose a sapling, its roots clutching a ball of rich soil. That done, she began digging with her forehooves. The earth of Applejack’s grave was still loose. By the time the hole was big enough for the tree, Fluttershy was covered in a sheen of sweat. The sun was low in the sky, and still there was no sign of the others.
They looked at each other. “Maybe we should wait a little longer,” said Fluttershy. “That is, if you want to.”
“No.” Rarity’s voice was firm, but she looked at the ground as she spoke. “If Rainbow and Twilight aren’t here by now, then they’re not coming.”
Fluttershy went to the sapling. “I’ll finish up, then.”
“A moment, if you would.” Rarity levitated a small silver coffer from within her coat. “I’d like to leave this, as well.”
Fluttershy plucked the box from the air and opened it. Within was a cameo in the shape of Applejack’s cutie mark, carved from three almandine jewels set in bronze. Sunlight gleamed from its perfect facets. “It’s beautiful.”
Rarity closed the box with a thought. “I wanted to leave her with something from us. With the spell I put on the box, that should last forever.”
“The tree will last.”
“For a long time, yes,” said Rarity. Fluttershy’s eyes followed the box as Rarity’s magic lowered it into the hole. “Eventually, though… well, Applejack will still be here when the tree is gone.”
Carousel Boutique had changed over the decades. The space was Sunstone’s as much as it was Rarity’s, if not more so. The mannequins and racks of clothing were joined by glass cases displaying bracelets, necklaces, earrings, and brooches. Rarity’s work was still prominent, but much of it was for display, not for sale. Rarity simply wasn’t able to keep the hours she once had. Nevertheless, when she worked, she worked with as much passion as ever.
“Turn a little to the left, darling,” said Rarity. “No, your left, not my left. Yes, perfect! Don’t move.” From her perch atop a thick cushion, Rarity floated a small arsenal of pins and clips through the air and used them to make a dozen small adjustments to the pure white dress draped over the yellow-gold earth pony before her. “This won’t take long. I’m sure you’ll look perfect for the big day.”
“I’m sure,” said Honey Pie as she was pulled this way and that by the twitches and tugs to her dress. “It looks wonderful already, really. Are you sure you need to change it?”
“But of course,” said Rarity. “Your father asked for some additions to the bridesmaids’ dresses, so yours simply must be changed to match.”
“Dad!” Honey Pie shot an exasperated look at the earth pony by her side. “Did you have to? Those dresses were fine.”
“You only get married once, Honey,” said Shepherd Pie. “You should have something better than ‘fine.’ The new ones will be a much better match for the wedding’s scenery.”
“But now we have to collect them again, alter them, and get them back to the right ponies! Who knows what could go wrong?”
“Already taken care of.” Shepherd Pie draped a cream-colored foreleg over his daughter. “Have some faith. You asked me to plan this thing, and by the blue sky above, it’s gonna stay planned.”
“He’s quite right,” said Rarity. “You’re lucky to have somepony who’s so talented at coordinating all these details.”
“Yeah.” Honey Pie nodded. “I don’t know how you can keep all that straight, Dad.”
“Hah! You think this is good?” said Shepherd Pie. “You should see your grandmother in action. I swear she has a seventh sense for that stuff.”
The bell above the front door tinkled, and Twilight Sparkle entered the shop. Honey Pie bowed.
“Do hold still, darling,” said Rarity. “We’re not finished here.”
Honey Pie stared at Rarity with wide eyes. “But, but—princess! Here!”
Shepherd Pie smirked. “Don’t worry, Honey. It’s just Twilight. She doesn’t bite.”
“It’s alright,” said Twilight. “I’m not here for anything official. I’m just picking up my dress for the wedding, actually.”
“Of course,” said Rarity. “I finished the alterations before we left yesterday. We missed you, you know.”
“I wish I could’ve gone,” said Twilight. “Rainbow wasn’t up to going to the grave, though, and I didn’t want to leave her alone. You know how hard this is for her.”
Rarity nodded. “She’s lucky to have a friend like you.”
“Talking with her helped me, too,” said Twilight. “She’s not the only one who’s hurting.” Her eyes flicked to Shepherd and Honey. “Let’s talk later. I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Oh, one other thing, darling. Will you be stopping by Sweet Apple Acres?”
Twilight nodded. “I’m planning to drop in and see Fluttershy.” It wasn’t a lie, she decided. She was certainly planning to visit now. It would be a good excuse to stretch her wings.
“Splendid. Could you bring her gown when you go? It’s the one by the door, there.”
“I’d be happy to.” Twilight levitated both gowns and folded them neatly into her saddlebag. Twilight smiled to herself as she left the shop. It was good to see Rarity staying active in spite of her condition.
“Hey, Twilight! There you are.”
“Hi, Rainbow Dash.” Twilight craned her neck upwards to watch her friend’s descent. Rainbow flew in a broad circle, slowly losing speed and altitude until she touched down. “How are you feeling?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking. You remember when you first turned into a princess?”
“Of course.” It wasn’t something she was likely to forget. When her friends’ power washed over her, all those decades ago, the feeling of warmth and wholeness had been staggering. She had fully comprehended the Elements of Harmony on that day, and forged her first connections to the pegasus and earth pony parts of her soul; now it was difficult to imagine life without them.
“Do you think we could do something like that again? I mean, I know we—” Dash swallowed. “We don’t have all six Elements anymore, but there was that stuff you were telling us that time we beat Spike’s mom, about how all of the Elements live in you now that you’re an alicorn. Anyway, do you know if it could work?”
“I guess it’s theoretically possible,” said Twilight. “Every Element actually exists in every pony, but not necessarily that much of it. I don’t know if anypony could power a spell that big without six full Bearers. I probably couldn’t do it. Maybe Celestia could. I’d have to look at Star Swirl’s notes…” She snapped herself back to reality. “Why do you ask?”
“What do you mean, why? So you can do it to us!”
“Oh. Oh!” Twilight nodded. “That would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? You, me, Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Rarity… I don’t know, though. Immortality is a huge responsibility. Celestia made that very clear. I think she would’ve had us do that already, if she meant to do it for you.”
“Come on, Twilight. You can’t tell me you don’t want us around.”
“Of course I do! But I don’t know if it’s a good idea, or even if it’s possible.”
“I do impossible things all the time. There was the sonic rainboom, crossing the Arabian Sea, that thing with the sphinxes, outrunning the—”
“I get the idea,” said Twilight. “I’ll talk to Princess Celestia. I can’t promise anything, but we’ll see what she says.”
“Thanks,” said Rainbow. “This last week… I don’t ever want to go through this again. Let me know, alright?” She took to the sky and soared away. Her flight was steady, but not nearly what it had been in their youth. Twilight remembered being the second-fastest flier in Ponyville, but while she had only grown stronger with the passage of decades, Rainbow Dash was… well, she was remarkably fit for her age.
Twilight had planned to fly to the farm, but decided to teleport instead. Twilight knew how Rainbow Dash suffered every time she saw Twilight flying with the grace she now lacked. The old mare tried not to let it show, but Twilight could read her like a book.
A quick spell took her to Sweet Apple Acres. Twilight would never have managed to teleport so far in her unicorn days. Even in her first decade as an alicorn, the spell would have been a challenge. Her power and knowledge continued to grow, however, and now she could teleport as far as Canterlot without exerting herself.
Twilight Sparkle materialized amidst rows of apple trees. It was harvest season, and her earth pony senses were aglow. Twilight closed her eyes and basked in the life force radiating from the trees and their young fruits. She took a deep breath, sucking the brisk autumn chill deep into her lungs.
“Well, now,” came a voice from behind. “If it isn’t the Princess Of Standing In My Way.”
“Hi, Crabapple.” Twilight turned to face him. The brick-red pegasus was hitched to a half-full cart of apples. Twilight stepped aside, clearing his path to the next unharvested tree. “I’m looking for your mom.”
“You’ll have an easier time with your eyes open.” He positioned the cart beside the tree and undid the traces.
“I’ve got her dress for your son’s wedding,” said Twilight. Like everyone who spent time around the Apple family, Twilight was used to shrugging off Crabapple’s gibes.
“Produce shed,” said Crabapple. He drove a powerful kick into the tree, knocking its fruit into the cart.
Twilight nodded her thanks and set off.
She quickly found her way to the shed, where Fluttershy was combing through the harvest, sorting the good apples from the bad. “Oh, hello,” Fluttershy said. “What brings you here today?”
“Rarity asked me to bring over your dress for Apple Sprout’s wedding. Here, look.” Twilight spread the gown in the air.
Fluttershy examined it closely. “It’s very nice,” she said. “I told Rarity not to bother with the embroidery on the hem, though. She’s too busy as it is.”
“When has that ever stopped her? You know how she gets about weddings. She’s almost as bad as Pinkie Pie.”
“Mm.” Fluttershy nodded. “It will be good to see her again.” She refolded the dress in silence before abruptly looking up and meeting Twilight’s gaze. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” said Twilight.
“What do you think happens to ponies when we die?”
“I know this is a hard time, Fluttershy. It's going to be okay.”
“You’re close to Princess Celestia,” said Fluttershy. “If anypony knows, it’s her.”
“She doesn’t. I asked her once, right after my grandmother died. That would’ve been way back when I was in school. She told me, ‘I don’t know. I’ve never died.’ Much later, I did some more thorough research. If there were answers out there, I would’ve found them, but nopony knows for sure.”
“I like to think we come back as some other type of animal,” said Fluttershy.
“Why do you believe that, if I can ask?” said Twilight.
“There are just so many different types of creatures, and they all live such different lives. If we only got to experience one, I don’t think that would be fair. Besides, nothing really ends.” She gestured to the orchard behind them. “Look at the farm. Trees die, but when they do, another tree takes its place. The orchard keeps going, it’s just a little different. What if ponies are the same way?” Fluttershy shrugged. “But, um, that’s only what I think. What do you think happens?”
“Any sort of afterlife or reincarnation would need some kind of powerful mechanism behind it. Something like that would leave behind traces of its existence, but nopony’s ever been able to find anything of the sort.”
“You’re saying this life is all there is?”
Twilight nodded. “Put simply, yes. But that's okay. Applejack had a good life.”
“Thanks for stopping by, Twilight. I’ll go put the gown away.”
Twilight Sparkle cantered down the red-carpeted hallway. She had managed to track Princess Celestia here, halfway up the palace’s Radiant Spire. She was just in time, too. She found Celestia leaving the office of some minister whose name eluded Twilight. “Celestia!” Twilight called. “Excuse me, Princess?”
Celestia stopped walking and turned. “Yes, my little pony? What is it?”
“I wanted to ask for your help.”
“Always, Twilight. Come, walk with me.”
“Right. So. I was thinking about my friends.” Twilight fell into step beside Celestia and set off towards the enormous open windows at the end of the hall. “I remember what living without them was like, before I came to Ponyville.”
“That was a long time ago. Is something wrong?”
“I don’t want to live like that again. I don’t want my friends to die. If we can turn them into princesses, too, then I’d like to do it. I looked through Starswirl’s notes, and it should be possible, but I don’t know if I’m powerful enough to harmonize with all six Elements. I was… I was hoping you could help?”
“I see.” Celestia’s expression grew distant, the way it had when Twilight once asked her about the Mare in the Moon, back during her school days. “We talked about this at length, Twilight. You know Equestrian society would collapse if we elevated our friends like that. You know that most ponies aren’t prepared to handle immortality.”
“I know, I know. But I thought, well, my friends aren’t most ponies. They’re the Elements of Harmony. They’ve saved Equestria eleven times, by my count. Twelve, if you count the Volcano Sisters separately. And they taught me everything I know about friendship. That counts for something, right? We want ponies like them around forever. If anypony’s earned this, then they have.”
“Is that what you believe is true?” asked Celestia. “Or is it just what you want to be true?”
Twilight looked at her hooves. “Honestly, I’m not sure.” Decades ago, Twilight had agreed with the implacable logic of letting nature and mortality take their course, but that had all been abstract. Applying the same logic in the wake of Applejack’s death was something else entirely. A part of Twilight was refusing to face that, she knew. She had the unclean feeling that came with trying to argue her way to a foregone conclusion instead of trying to find the truth. “I think maybe it was.” She forced herself not to shrink away from the logic. Such weakness would have been embarrassing in the best of circumstances. In front of the princess, it made her feel like a filly who had forgotten to study for a test.
Celestia gave her a bittersweet smile, the one that always appeared during lectures that started with I expected too much of you. “I know how hard this must be. Why don’t you stay a week or two in Canterlot? Some space might be good for you.”
“I can’t. I really don’t want to leave Rainbow Dash alone right now, and I shouldn’t miss the wedding.”
They walked in silence, past a portrait of Celestia with Star Swirl the Bearded and two ponies Twilight didn’t know.
“I wish I could spare you this,” said Celestia. “Your friends are very special ponies. They’re good-hearted, and wiser than most ponies can imagine. They wouldn’t make good princesses, though. Being a princess is not a favor to be given to those you love. It is not an award to be given to the worthy. It is a solemn duty and a terrible burden, and it must only be carried by those with the will to endure it and the talent to steward Equestria for all time.” Celestia reached the end of the hallway and its enormous open window. Without breaking stride, she unfurled her wings and launched herself into the vacant space beyond. “Ponies like that are extremely rare, and we are always trying to find them. We can’t act on a hunch or a hope, though, because making somepony an alicorn is something that can never be undone. Cadence and I had our eyes on you since you became my student, but even so, it took us years to be sure.”
Twilight followed into the open air, barely aware that her hooves had left the ground. “You mean you were thinking of this when I was a filly?”
Princess Celestia banked towards the Argent Tower, a shorter turret on the other side of the palace gardens. “The Princess of Love doesn’t foalsit for just anypony.”
Twilight blinked. “Wow. I had no idea.”
“I hope that gives you an idea of how seriously we take this,” said Celestia. “These decisions are permanent, not just for a lifetime, but for all lifetimes. We must never, ever make a mistake. Very few ponies have the strength to watch their friends and family die, generation after generation, and still care for the ponies who come after. Even fewer have the compassion, wisdom, and raw talent it takes to guide Equestria. Finding a pony with both, like you, is a rare and special thing.”
“I understand,” said Twilight. “So that fortitude you’re talking about, that’s necessary to becoming an alicorn, right? I mean, apart from whether it’s a good idea.”
“Not quite. Your friends could become alicorns; all it takes is the right application of the Elements. They just shouldn’t.”
“But how do you know that? Did anypony try transforming a pony who wasn’t ready?”
“That’s not my story to tell,” said Celestia. “You will learn that lesson someday, but not through experience, I hope. Do you understand?” She landed gently on the terrace atop the Argent Tower.
Twilight touched down beside her. “It’s not what I wanted to hear, but I think so. I just don’t like the idea of leaving my friends behind.” Of course Celestia was right, as always. “I know what I have to do, but part of me still wishes there was another way.”
“I know. Believe me, I know. When we first discovered the Elements, there were six of us…” Her mouth tightened. “Letting go hurt, but I had to do it.” Celestia looked Twilight straight in the eyes. “I’d like you to spend half an hour and think of all the ways society could fall apart if we tried any other way. We went over the descriptions, but I want you to picture it. Imagine trying to become a respected scholar in a world where Star Swirl and Owlbright are still alive. Imagine how crowded Ponyville would be with a thousand years’ worth of alicorns. Imagine how bored an average pony would become after three or four centuries of life. To you, this is all just words, now. You have to understand with your heart as well as your mind.” Celestia walked into the tower, leaving Twilight alone with her thoughts.
“This is bad,” said Honey Pie. “This is really bad.” She paced across the bare pine floor of Apple Sprout’s bedroom. “We have to fix this.”
Apple Sprout fought down the urge to grin. His fiancée was adorable when she got like this, but saying so aloud would probably be unwise.
“I’m sorry,” said Granny Fluttershy. “I thought you wanted the red roses.”
“No, no, no!” said Honey Pie. “The red roses are for the entrée. The garlands are supposed to be the white roses. Oh, what are we going to do?”
Honey Pie took a deep breath. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s not a big deal.” The fake smile she put on was enough to reassure Granny Fluttershy, but Apple Sprout could see through it like a window. “You did fine.”
“Oh. Good,” said Fluttershy. “I’ll talk to Rosebud and see if we can fix this before the wedding tomorrow.”
“That’s alright, Granny,” said Apple Sprout. “We’ll take it from here.”
“If you say so,” said Fluttershy. “I’ll bring the flowers over, so you can figure out what to do with them.” She left the room.
The moment the door closed, Honey Pie dropped her calm façade like a hot coal. “This is bad, Sprout. We have to fix this.” She tugged at her mane.
“Relax,” said Apple Sprout. “It’s just flowers.”
“It isn’t! It’s our wedding! It’s supposed to be perfect!”
“Hey. It will be.” He laid a hoof on her withers. “We’re getting married, right? I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you. It doesn’t get any more perfect than that.”
“I know.” Honey Pie leaned against him. “But there’s still the ceremony, and there’s so much that can still go wrong!”
“So what if it does?” Apple Sprout sat on the floor and pulled Honey Pie down beside him. “I don’t care if the whole town catches on fire, I am still going to marry the stuffing out of you.” He poked her in the ribs.
“Hey!” Grinning, she slapped his leg away. “Watch those hooves!”
“How’s this?” He wrapped her in a loose embrace.
“Mm. Better.” She shifted into a more comfortable position, resting against his side.
He held her close, listening to the soft sound of her breathing. Neither of them moved.
They didn’t notice when Fluttershy came back. She cracked open the door and saw the two of them locked in their silent embrace. Carefully, quietly, she shut the door, left the basket of red roses beside it, and backed away.
The wedding was in full swing. The Apple clan, nearly a dozen strong even excluding the ponies who had left the farm, had transformed the largest of their fields into an outdoor banquet hall. Over a hundred guests milled around as the ceremony approached.
Fluttershy scanned the crowd. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t see her.”
“She said she’d be here this time.” Crabapple twitched his wings impatiently. “Element of Loyalty, my tail.”
“Wedding ain’t started yet,” said Big Macintosh.
Fluttershy hopped down from the wooden crate on which she stood. “She could still show up.”
“She better,” said Crabapple. “I’ve got one kid and he’s got one wedding. If Auntie Dash misses it, I don’t aim to let her live it down.” He glared at nothing in particular as he paced, nervously brushing a wing against the slats of the crate. It was a heavy, solid thing, just about the height and length of a pony.
“You should try to calm down,” said Fluttershy. She leaned over and nuzzled Big Macintosh’s neck.
“Calm down, Ma?” said Crabapple. “I did mention that this is Sprout’s wedding? Hey, careful, there!” Crabapple darted over and restraightened Macintosh’s bow tie where Fluttershy had knocked it askew. “Great. Now the collar’s all wrinkled. You look like a vagrant.”
“It’s just a shirt,” said Big Macintosh. “Ain’t nopony gonna notice a shirt today.”
“Look,” said Fluttershy. “Here comes Rarity.” She pointed to where Sunstone was entering the field, pulling Rarity’s carriage behind him. He was chatting with an older unicorn stallion who walked alongside. Fluttershy waved, and Sunstone changed direction to approach her.
Macintosh nodded at the guests as they arrived. “Center Stage. Sunstone. Howdy.”
“Hey, Big M! Glad to be here,” said Center Stage. “One moment, let me get the wife.” He opened the carriage door and helped Rarity ease her way out.
Despite her slow, painful steps, Rarity was beaming. “Congratulations, everypony. This is such a fabulous day for all of you.” She looked to Fluttershy. “I can’t even imagine how proud you must be.”
“Everything should be set up alright for you, Miss Rarity,” said Crabapple. “If you’re too broken to get around, let us know.”
“I appreciate your… concern, darling, but I’ll manage just fine.”
Macintosh frowned dubiously at that. He glanced to Fluttershy, who nodded and began scanning the crowd.
“C’mon, my jewel,” said Center Stage. “It’s a long walk to the pavillion.”
“Then we’d best get started,” said Rarity. “I’ll see all of you there.” She began hobbling towards the heavy canvas tent at the far end of the field, leaning heavily on Sunstone as she went. The middle-aged stallion sagged a bit under the burden.
Fluttershy reached out and stopped a passing colt who was only a couple of years past getting his cutie mark. “Would you please help Miss Rarity get to the pavillion?”
“Aw, but Granny, I—”
“No buts,” snapped Crabapple. “Do as you’re told.”
“Yes, Uncle Crabapple.” The colt took Sunstone’s place supporting Rarity. Sunstone breathed a sigh of relief.
Rarity smiled at Fluttershy as she tottered away. “Thank you. It must be wonderful to have grandchildren around.”
Sunstone rolled his eyes. “Subtle, isn’t she?”
Center Stage poked him in the ribs. “Well, hurry up and get us some! We’re not getting any younger.”
“Dad! I swear, I can’t take you anywhere.” Sunstone’s voice faded into the general hubbub as they left.
A voice came from behind. “Hey, guys. Did I miss anything?”
“Auntie Dash!” Crabapple whirled and threw a hug around Rainbow as she stepped around the crate. “I was afraid you weren’t coming.”
Rainbow Dash returned the hug. “Like I’d miss Sprout’s wedding. Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”
Crabapple took a step back and cleared his throat. “Yes, well, it took you long enough. This’d be a lot easier if you’d move back to the farm with the rest of us.”
“Yeah, no thanks. Too many memories here.” She turned to the rest of the group. “Hey, Fluttershy. Hey, Macintosh. Uh, what’s wrong with your collar?”
“See?” said Crabapple. “You see what I mean? You’d think—” He paused as he caught sight of a passing pony. “Hey, Shepherd! Get over here!”
The father of the bride made his way over. “Crabapple. What can I do for you?”
“What do you think? Did you find where Sprout left the rings?”
“No,” said Shepherd Pie. “I thought I heard you were looking for those. I’ve been trying to get the banquet ready.”
Crabapple rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s only the galloping wedding rings. I guess it’s no big deal.”
“Hey, there’s only one of me. I’ll find the rings, but somepony else is gonna have to track down these red roses.”
“Fine. I’ll deal with your plants. You find those rings.” Crabapple stomped away. Shepherd gave the remaining three ponies a brief wave before he was gone, too, leaving them in an island of calm amidst the chaos of the surrounding wedding.
Big Macintosh turned to Rainbow Dash. “Crabapple was right.”
Rainbow Dash looked up. “Huh?”
“About living with us,” said Fluttershy. “You should come back to the farm. I don’t like thinking of you all alone in that cloud house.”
“Hey, I’m fine on my own.”
“Ain’t right for a pony to be alone,” said Macintosh. “Not at our age.”
“You have a family here,” said Fluttershy. “I know you first came to be with Applejack, and I know you never had children of your own, but you’ve been here since before the kids were born. You’re part of their lives, and you always have been. You saw how excited Crabapple was to see you.”
“Yeah. I know.” Rainbow Dash pawed at the ground. “It’s just, without AJ, it doesn’t feel right. Everything around here reminds me of her, you know? Like, right there, that’s the fence I helped her fix after the thing with the jackalopes. That patch there is where we’d throw horseshoes. And we were standing right here when she told me about her fight with Crabapple. The big one, I mean. You remember how mad she got?” She gasped a high, shuddering breath. “I can’t live with all this. It’s too much.”
Fluttershy nuzzled her friend. “You miss her.”
Rainbow Dash squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in Fluttershy’s shoulder. “So much.”
Big Macintosh cleared his throat. “Ladies.”
They looked up. A mound of perfect white silk was approaching on four legs, accompanied by a young stallion in a tuxedo. Rainbow Dash hurriedly composed herself.
Fluttershy stepped forward. “Congratulations, you two!”
“Thanks, Granny,” said Apple Sprout, giving Fluttershy a quick embrace.
“Hi, Fluttershy,” came the voice from behind the veil. “Guess I’d better get used to calling you ‘Granny,’ too.”
“Oh, it isn’t such a big change,” said Fluttershy. “You’re almost family already. Your grandmother is like a sister to me.”
“Have you seen her?” said Honey Pie. “Dad said she was getting in late, but she’s cutting it awfully close.”
Rainbow Dash frowned. “Unless they changed the schedule on me, the last train from Fillydelphia got in a couple hours ago. If she’s not here, then something’s up.”
Fluttershy coughed. “I, um. I’m sure she’ll make it in time.”
“I hope so,” said Honey Pie. “Unless you have her hidden away somewhere, we’ll have to start without her.”
“SURPRISE!” Bits of wood flew everywhere. Honey Pie staggered back, stumbled over the train of her dress, and sat down heavily. Where the crate had been was now a wrinkled pink pony, shaking sawdust from her graying mane.
“Wh,” said Honey Pie, “wh, what?” Apple Sprout helped her upright and brushed her dress clean.
“You guessed!” said Pinkie Pie. “I never thought you’d guess!”
Rainbow Dash poked around the detritus that had once been the crate. “Wow, Pinkie. How long were you in there?”
Pinkie giggled. “Just long enough!”
“Granny Pie!” Honey Pie tried to scowl, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Today is important.”
“Well, of course! You think I’d hide in some stuffy old box if it wasn’t?”
Shepherd Pie bustled up to the group. “Honey Pie, what on Equestria are you two doing out here?”
“I’m mingling, Dad! It’s my wedding. I’m supposed to mingle.”
“Not right now, you’re not. The ceremony starts in fifteen minutes.”
Honey Pie cast a panicked glance at Apple Sprout. “What? But what about the rings?”
“I found them. I told you, don’t worry.”
“See?” Apple Sprout nudged Honey Pie. “You see what I mean? Everything’s under control. It’s all gonna be fine.”
“Yes, yes.” Shepherd Pie rolled his eyes. “Move along, you.” The two of them galloped away.
Shepherd chuckled. “Kids, right? Everything’s so important to her. Five years from now, she’ll be laughing about all this.” He gave Pinkie Pie a quick hug. “Good to see you, Mom.”
“Look at her,” said Pinkie, watching the bride hurry off. “All grown up.”
Beneath the white pavillion, a three-piece string band played while Lyric Heartstrings called out the steps to a lively square dance. Revelers pranced to and fro in a constantly shifting formation. Macintosh and Fluttershy stumbled through the steps with more enthusiasm than grace. Crabapple stalked about the sidelines, glaring at everything and nothing.
At the center of it all, Apple Sprout and Honey Pie were in their own private world. The bride’s veil was gone, and they each wore a slim gold ring over a front hoof. The two of them never broke eye contact as they wove between and around the other couples.
Twilight Sparkle stood on the sidelines and watched three generations pass before her. These ponies were the closest thing she had to a family. Her parents were long gone and her brother had died childless. Twilight’s own years had been spent in study, research, and adventure, leaving no time for marriage or children. No, that wasn’t quite true, she hadn’t wanted any of that. Watching her dearest friends raise their families had been—still was—more than enough.
A memory sprang unbidden to her mind. Immortality means watching your friends and family die, generation after generation, came Princess Celestia’s voice.
It was a bitter thought. She tried to picture Apple Sprout growing old and withering away, like Rarity. Twilight’s prodigious imagination failed her. He looked so impossibly lively, wearing that expression of intense, impetuous infatuation particular to young lovers.
Another partnerless pony sidled up beside Twilight. “You look like you’re somewhere else,” said Rainbow Dash. “Whatcha thinking about?”
The song came to an end. Lyric fell silent as the band moved into an airy waltz. The dancers broke formation and moved closer to their partners.
“You know,” said Twilight. “Life. And age.”
“I hear you. I mean, look at Crabapple. I remember changing his diapers. Now his kid’s just about ready to have kids. How did we get so old?”
“The same way everypony else does,” said Twilight. “Except me, I suppose.”
“About that.” Rainbow lowered her voice. “Did you talk to Princess Celestia?”
“I did,” said Twilight. “It was… not what I expected.”
Rainbow’s eyes lit up. “Does that mean you can do it?”
“It’s more complicated than that. I think it might work if I tried, but I can’t. Immortality is a huge responsibility. It’s not something I can just go doling out.”
“But think about it! You, me, Pinkie, Fluttershy, and Rarity, together forever!”
“I want that. You know I do. This is bigger than we are, though. Princesses are an immensely powerful force in Equestrian society, and what’s more, we’re eternal. The effects of our rule are much, much more important than our individual lives. Princess Celestia can’t take chances by adding to our ranks unless she’s certain beyond the shadow of a doubt. If elevating ponies so freely were really a good idea, don’t you think Celestia would be doing it already?”
“I don’t know what the princess thinks. I know you told me you wanted to live with your friends forever.”
“You don’t realize the importance of what you’re asking,” said Twilight. “Turning you into an alicorn would be more significant than anything I’ve done in my life.”
“You’re trotting right it would,” said Rainbow Dash. “I know exactly what I’m asking for, here. It’s a big deal, I get that. I just don’t get why that’s bad. Come on, I’m not asking for anything that you don’t already have.”
“Is that what this is about? Are you just jealous?”
“Of course I’m jealous. I’m going to die. You’re not. I’d be crazy not to be jealous of that.”
“I can understand why you feel that way,” said Twilight. “That’s not a good reason to make you immortal, though. I’d be happy to talk about your feelings, but you need to start by accepting that death is a part of life.”
“It doesn’t have to be! I’m not okay with dying, not if there’s actually something we can do about it!”
“Can doesn’t mean should!” Twilight shook her head. “Immortality sounds a lot nicer than it actually is. It gets lonely, watching everypony you know die. Most ponies aren’t cut out to handle it. You know how hard Applejack’s death hit you. I couldn’t put you through that again and again.”
“Excuse me, girls,” said Fluttershy as she made her way over, “maybe now isn’t the best time for you to have this talk.” She glanced meaningfully at the surrounding ponies, many of whom were staring.
Rainbow Dash ignored her. “So how is it okay for you to be immortal? I mean, if that sort of thing would make all this bad stuff happen, then why do you get to do it?”
“You know exactly why!” said Twilight. “A rare few ponies have the skill to help guide Equestria and the fortitude to handle immortality. Celestia chose me to be one of them. If you’d just listen for one—”
“Right, so all your friends have to die so that you can feel special,” said Rainbow.
Fluttershy cleared her throat. “Maybe we should—”
“Hey!” said Twilight. “Don’t make this about me, Dash.”
“Yeah,” said Rainbow, “I guess I should leave that to you and the princess. You’ll have plenty of time to practice while the rest of us are rotting in the ground.”
“Oh, that is it!” said Twilight. “I’ve had just about enough of—”
“Girls.” Fluttershy fixed them with a look like an oncoming train. “Not here.”
“Fine.” Twilight nodded. “You’re right. I don’t have to stand here and take this, though.” She beat her wings and took to the air. The crowd began to mutter.
Fluttershy fixed her glare on Rainbow Dash. “There was no need to do that.”
“What?” said Rainbow. “She was the one who—”
“We’ll talk about this later,” said Fluttershy. “I’d like to celebrate my grandson’s wedding now, please.”
“You have to focus,” said Princess Celestia. “You won’t be able to call up your magic if you’re this distracted.”
“I’m trying,” hissed Twilight. She sat facing the last shard of red-gold sunlight where it streamed into her study. “It’s not easy, after what happened at the wedding today.”
“Oh? Is everything okay?”
Twilight sighed. “Rainbow Dash was being a jerk about my immortality. She’s hurt and scared and jealous and she’s lashing out. I can understand that, but it’s just… she’s really good at lashing out.”
“What did she say?”
“Can we talk about this later?” said Twilight. “I kind of wanted to finish the protoluminescent spell today.”
“Your magic depends on your connection to the Elements, Twilight. If you’re fighting against your feelings about your friends, you won’t make any progress.”
“Am I supposed to just ignore how I feel, then?” Twilight wasn’t sure if she could do that.
“That’s the last thing you should do. Remember, this isn’t unicorn magic. You can’t access it by shoving your emotions aside. These thoughts are a part of you, right now. You have to embrace them, good and bad. Ignoring them won’t make them go away, but acknowledging them is the first step to working through your problems.”
“I guess I can do that.”
“Yes. I’m asking you to get in touch with your true self, not your idealized self. Think about Rainbow Dash. Focus on your fear and your frustration. Don’t exaggerate it, but let it in to your mind.”
Twilight grimaced. “Okay. I’ve got it.”
“Hold on to that. Now, recall how much you care about each other. Remember all the sacrifices she made for you. Remember everything you accomplished together. Make sure you’ve got all of that in your mind.”
Twilight shut her eyes and concentrated. She had to struggle to keep both her friendship and her anger with Rainbow Dash in the forefront of her mind, not because the effort was mentally taxing, but because she didn’t want to think about how scared she was of turning her friendship into something else. She forced herself not to shy away from the painful thought. There was an ache deep inside her soul when she contemplated the possibility of driving away one of her oldest, dearest friends. Sitting there, deep in meditation, Twilight Sparkle resolved to repair the breach, no matter what it took.
“Now,” said Princess Celestia. “Focus on your magic.”
Twilight felt as though a dam had burst within her. There was the familiar sensation of power coursing through her thoughts, but it felt suddenly whole, like when she first transformed into her alicorn self. She was used to magic as a force to impose her will on the world, but this was different. Twilight felt in tune with reality, able to weave new patterns across the surface of a tapestry that had suddenly snapped into focus. She opened her mouth to shout her triumph, but all that came out was an unprincesslike squeal of joy.
“Excellent!” Celestia beamed. “I can feel the power flowing from you. This is the strongest you’ve ever been. Try the spell now.”
She reached her thoughts out to the sky. It was well and truly twilight now, when the world above was at its most malleable. Manipulating the sky had been beyond her abilities so far, but this time, the protoluminescent spell took shape. Twilight felt beads of sweat on her forehead, but she also felt a primal light building up in the back of her consciousness. It grew and grew until it burst free and popped into the sky. “Hah!”
“Very good.” Celestia didn’t turn to look at the sky; she didn’t need to. Twilight could see her star, though, her very first. With the barrier between day and night breached, the existing stars slid easily into their accustomed places. Twilight felt their familiar presence like a warm cloak.
In all her years of studying, Twilight had learned everything but the skill of guiding the skies. Now, they would share even this. She was grinning so hard her face hurt.
All this bowing and fawning was a problem, Twilight decided. In Ponyville, it was a mere annoyance, but here in Canterlot, ponies were serious about their royalty, to the point where Twilight could barely move about in public. Right now, she was just trying to drop by the spa to see Fluttershy’s youngest daughter, and she had already spent a quarter of an hour enduring the gushing of the doormare, the receptionist, and two especially forward customers.
“—we here at Soothing Rein would be happy to accommodate you however we can.” The receptionist was a unicorn by the name of Velvet Sheen, and he had been going on like that for some time. “If there’s anything we can do, don’t hesitate to—”
“Enough,” said Twilight, cutting short Velvet’s babbling with a raised hoof. “No. Thank you.” Twilight was trying to emulate Princess Celestia’s infinite patience, but she could tell she fell far short of the mark. “I’m here to see Golden Apple, if she’s not too busy.”
“I’ll fetch her at once,” said Velvet. “She’ll be up front in a moment, you have my—”
“I’ll just go find her. I remember the way.” Twilight brushed past the front desk, rolling her eyes once she was past. Velvet was the same as always.
It wasn’t far to Golden Apple’s office. The door was propped open, revealing pastel-colored walls decorated with a full-length mirror and several posters of ponies who Twilight assumed were Equestria’s trendiest models. Golden Apple’s voice came through the door. “If she can’t be there, then we’ll have to find somepony else to come in.” If Twilight hadn’t known, she would never guess her friend had been born on a farm. Golden Apple spoke with a Canterlot accent, with the flawless pronunciation that no native would have taken the time to perfect. “Oh, hello, Twilight.” She looked at a schedule spread across her polished mahogany desk, then back up at the eager young unicorn she had been speaking to. “I’ll have to cover the second half of her shift myself, it would seem. See if Gallantry can manage the first half.”
Twilight stood back as Golden Apple finished her conversation. Being ignored was strangely refreshing. She felt as though she were a regular person, rather than a pony-shaped mass of nobility.
Eventually the unicorn finished her business and scurried off. Only then did Golden Apple turn to embrace Twilight. She was a middle-aged pegasus with a vibrant green coat and an intricately braided mane the same brilliant gold as her predictably apple-shaped cutie mark. “Twilight! I haven’t seen much of you, lately. I suppose you’ve been rather busy.”
“As always,” said Twilight. “How have you been?”
“You wouldn’t believe it. I leave this place for three days to go to my nephew’s wedding, and the whole thing starts falling into chaos! It’s enough to drive a mare mad.” She shrugged. “Oh, well. It’s always something. In any case, I’m glad you’re here. Will you let me do something about your mane?”
“What?” said Twilight, reflexively looking into the mirror beside the desk. “Why? I’ve worn it this way since before you were born. It’s fine.”
“Precisely. It’s fine. That’s all well and good for somepony like Ma, but you’re a princess.”
“Right,” said Twilight. “Where can I get the conditioner to turn my mane into a nimbus of ethereal starstuff?”
“Hah! I’m afraid you know more about that sort of thing than I. But until you figure out that trick, you’d better let me fix things up. Let’s try little a less Auntie Applejack, a little more Princess Cadence.”
“What’s wrong with keeping it Twilight Sparkle?” she said, too quickly.
“It’s like you said. You’ve worn that style since before I was born. But you’re hardly the same Twilight Sparkle as you were then. Isn’t that so, Your Highness?”
“I…” Twilight’s legs buckled, and she sat down, hard. “I don’t…”
“Oh, dear.” Golden Apple crossed the room and shut the door, then sat on the floor beside her. “We’re not talking about your mane at all, are we?”
Twilight swallowed. “I miss the old Twilight Sparkle. I liked her. Princess Twilight seems like a nice pony, too, but I don’t want to lose who I was. I don’t want to lose the pony Applejack made me.”
“Is it really that bad?”
Twilight nodded. “Yeah. It is. Everywhere I go, I’m always the princess. Everypony acts like the ground I walk upon is holy, and it gets old. There aren’t many ponies left who will let me just be me.”
“But surely that doesn’t apply to your friends? You still have me, and Ma, and Auntie Dash, at the very least. We’re still here, just like always.”
Twilight decided not to say anything about Rainbow Dash. She didn’t need to burden Golden Apple with all of her problems. “It helps,” she said. “Still, it’s hard.”
“Hm. I know this isn’t quite the same, but I’m hardly the pony I was twenty years ago.” Golden Apple reached up and plucked a framed photograph from her desk. It showed a younger Fluttershy and Macintosh, no more than sixty years old, holding a tiny, beaming foal. “Becoming a parent was a big change. Probably as big as becoming a princess, I imagine. I’m quite different as a result, as you well know, and I don’t regret a single bit of it.”
“You’re saying I shouldn’t be afraid of change,” said Twilight.
“Essentially. You will always be Twilight Sparkle at heart, no matter the outward trappings.”
“Well, it’s good to hear I’m still myself in your eyes.” Twilight stood up. “Still, I don’t think I’ll be changing my mane anytime soon.”
“Rainbow Dash?” Fluttershy knocked on the door of her friend’s house, softly but insistently. “Are you home?”
As she waited for a response, Fluttershy glanced around at the porch and frowned. When Rainbow had first left Sweet Apple Acres, she made a point of keeping her cloud house scrupulously clean, a remnant of habits Applejack had drilled into her over the decades. Now, however, the fluffy white balcony was streaked with a buildup of brownish haze, visible even in the moonlight.
Fluttershy knocked again, louder this time. Again there was no response. She pushed open the door and went inside. “Rainbow Dash?”
The house was nearly unfurnished. Fluttershy walked through a full-sized living room that was empty save for a single couch covered in a thin layer of dust.
Rainbow Dash stuck her head through a doorway. “Hey. What’s up?”
“There you are,” said Fluttershy. “I’ve been trying to find you. I came to ask if you’re coming to Crabapple’s birthday party next week.”
“I thought he’d be angry with me, after what happened at the wedding.” Rainbow came fully into the living room, closing the door behind her before Fluttershy could see inside her bedroom.
“Oh, he’s furious. I haven’t seen him this mad since Apple Bloom missed Apple Sprout’s cuteceañera. He still wants you there, though. You’re family. Besides, this is your last chance to see Apple Sprout before his honeymoon. He’ll be away for a month, you know.”
“I guess,” said Rainbow. “Well, thanks, but… I dunno.”
“What’s going on? Nopony’s seen you since the wedding, and that was five days ago. What have you been doing all this time?”
Rainbow Dash leaned against the couch’s arm. “You know. Thinking about stuff, I guess.”
“Oh?”
Rainbow sighed. “I think Twilight’s alicorn thing is getting to me. I can’t stop thinking about dying. She could stop it from happening if she wants, but she just… isn’t.”
“Why is this different from how it was before? We were always going to die. It’s not Twilight’s fault.”
“It kind of is. I mean, for the longest time, I was okay with knowing I was gonna die. It was scary, yeah, but I thought it was just how things were and nothing could change that, so why worry, right?” Rainbow Dash started pacing across the room. “And now it turns out that dying is actually a choice! Except it’s Twilight’s choice, not mine, and she’s choosing wrong and there’s nothing I can do!”
“Death is a scary thing,” said Fluttershy. “I know you’re sad about Applejack. I am, too.”
“That’s not it. I mean, yeah, it still hurts. I don’t think that’s ever gonna stop. That’s not what’s different, though. Now I keep thinking about how it’s gonna happen to me. How it’ll to happen to you.” Rainbow swallowed. “Stars and feathers, Twilight can’t really let that happen, can she?”
“I don’t know,” said Fluttershy. “This sort of thing is too much for me. Maybe you’re right. It’s not worth having a big fight with Twilight over it, though. It’s Princess Celestia’s decision, and I don’t think she’ll change her mind.” She paused. “You’ll feel better about it if you get out some instead of brooding in here so much. Please come to the party. I’m worried about you.”
“Well, I guess—” The house shook with the mild tremble that came when a pony landed outside. “Huh,” said Rainbow Dash. “Wonder who it is.”
The two of them made their way to the balcony, where Twilight Sparkle stood gazing at the sky.
“Um, Twilight?” said Fluttershy. “What are you doing?”
Twilight looked their way. “Oh, hi! Sorry, I got distracted. Every time I think I’ve learned all there is to know about the sky…” She cleared her throat. “Sorry. I didn’t come here to talk about stars.”
Rainbow Dash stiffened. “Then why did you come?”
“I came to apologize. I was thinking about what happened at the wedding, and I can see how I was being insensitive. I don’t want this to come between us.”
A grin split Rainbow Dash’s face. She stepped forward and nuzzled Twilight. “Oh, Twilight. I should’ve known better. I don’t know why I was so worried.”
“Heh. I was worried, too. I guess we can both overreact, sometimes.”
“We sure can,” said Rainbow. “So when are we gonna do this alicorn thing?”
“Oh.” Twilight bit her lip. “I think you misunderstand. I didn’t change my mind about that. I just… I was too harsh before, and I wanted to try to be nicer about it.”
“The problem isn’t that you weren’t nice enough, Twilight.”
“Okay,” said Twilight. “Can we try to talk about it calmly, though? I really don’t want to fight.”
“I can do calm,” said Rainbow Dash.
“Maybe I’d better let you two sort this out in private,” said Fluttershy, spreading her wings. “I’ll see you at the party, Rainbow Dash.”
“Sure,” said Rainbow. “Fine.” Fluttershy gave her a brief smile before taking to the air.
Twilight pawed at the cloud. “So,” she said.
“Yeah,” said Rainbow. “I guess you’d better come in.”
Rainbow Dash led Twilight inside and pulled herself atop the couch, sending up a puff of dust. “Right. So. You were saying something about stars?”
“Yeah. I’m finally figuring out how alicorn magic works. I mean really figuring it out.” Twilight sat down beside her friend.
“You said that before,” said Rainbow Dash. “There was the time with the Star Scrolls, and then the time with the griffon university.”
“This is like that, but more. It’s like… like seeing the universe fit together in a new way. I’ve spent fifty years picking up pieces, and now I’m starting to put them together. So many things make more sense now, and the whole thing is just beautiful. Also, I found my special talent.”
“Isn’t magic your special talent?”
“I guess alicorn special talents are bigger. I have dominion over the heavens during dawn and dusk, now.”
“What, like controlling the stars?”
Twilight smiled shyly. “Pretty much.”
“Wow,” said Rainbow Dash. “That’s… wow. I guess you’re a princess for real, huh? That’s awesome. Whatever else happens, this is great.”
“That means a lot.” Twilight let out a breath. “To be honest, I was worried you were upset about what I am.”
“No way. I like it when good things happen to my friends. You’re a princess! That’s, like, the best possible thing. It sounds like it’s even cooler than I imagined, and that’s not easy. I couldn’t be happier for you. It’s just… if it’s that great, shouldn’t Fluttershy be able to have it, too?”
“I wish she could,” Twilight said carefully. “You know that. I don’t know if she’s cut out to go hundreds of years without her friends, though.”
“So don’t make her! It wouldn’t be lonely with the five of us together.”
“Gah!” Twilight massaged her temples. “I can’t just go around doing that to all my friends. How would that be fair? Besides, do you think Pinkie wants to be around when Shepherd dies? Then she’d have to bury the foster kids and Honey Pie and, and… it wouldn’t work.”
“So? You could make her family immortal too,” said Rainbow Dash.
“What are you even saying? Do you realize where that would lead?” Twilight’s voice was edging towards hysteria. “Do you want to make every pony in Equestria immortal?”
Rainbow Dash froze. “Oh my gosh,” she said. A grin spread across her face. “I didn’t even think of that. Oh my gosh. Twilight, you’re a genius! We totally could!”
“What? No! No, we couldn’t! That would totally destroy Equestrian society as we know it!”
“In a good way! You can get rid of death forever!” Rainbow climbed to her hooves. “You just… it’s like you don’t actually care that the rest of us die, since it won’t happen to you.”
Twilight paused long enough to count to ten before responding. “I did ask Celestia about transforming everypony, long ago, but she wouldn’t allow it. You have no idea what a world full of alicorns would be like. Nopony does. It could be a disaster, for all you know. Pony minds aren’t built to live forever and stay sane, and we’d have to feed and house a population that only increased, and who knows what other problems we’d run into? The princess has a point. And besides, she’s the princess.”
“No, Twilight, you are the princess! You don’t have to do what Celestia says if you don’t want to.”
“I have to live with her for the rest of eternity,” Twilight said with forced calm.
“Oh,” said Rainbow. “Oh, I get it. Impressing your teacher is more important to you than saving your friends’ lives.”
“What is your problem? I came here to try to get over our fight! I’m going out of my way to keep things civil, and all you can do is throw it in my face!”
“You’re killing your friends, Twilight! I’m sorry if I’m being rude, but I can’t smile along with this, no matter how nice about it you are. What happened to Applejack was the worst thing in the world. I won’t sit around while you let it happen to the rest of us, too.”
“That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? It’s all about Applejack. You’re broken up about her death, and now you’re blaming me, somehow.”
“What?” Rainbow Dash frowned at that. “Of course I don’t blame you. You didn’t think of it in time, no more than I did.” Her face darkened. “I blame Princess Celestia.”
“How can you even say that? Do you have any idea how much Celestia does for us? How much she did for Applejack?”
“Look, if Celestia wanted Applejack to be alive, she’d be alive. Applejack is dead. Say whatever you want about that.”
“That’s insane,” said Twilight. “By that logic, you could say she’s responsible for killing every pony who ever died.”
“Yeah,” said Rainbow. “Yeah, you could.”
Twilight stood up. “I can’t do this. It was one thing when you were insulting me, but I won’t listen to you talk about Princess Celestia like that. I’m leaving now. You’re scared and you’re lashing out. I can’t talk to you again until you get yourself under control, for both our sakes.”
“Scared? You’re the one who’s running away!” Rainbow Dash rose into the air above Twilight. “Watch who you call scared.”
“What, are you joking?” said Twilight. “Everything you’ve ever done, you did because of fear. When we were young, you were terrified somepony would think you weren’t awesome enough, so you did everything to prove how cool you were. Remember your meltdown at the Best Young Flyers tournament, when you thought you’d fail and ponies would see behind your mask? Then you spent decades clinging to Applejack like a drowning sailor because you were scared of what would happen if she looked away from you for one minute. And, and now you want to tear apart all of Equestria and destroy our friendship because you’re too scared to face your own death!”
Rainbow Dash landed with her muzzle inches away from Twilight’s. “Don’t you talk about me and Applejack,” she said in a voice taut like a steel cable. “You have no idea. No idea! You’ve never been in love, never helped raise kids, nothing! You’ve just been sitting in your empty tree and those shiny towers in Canterlot while the rest of us have been out there doing things! It’s like you started hibernating the same time Spike did. The difference is someday, he’s going to wake up. You, probably not.” She stepped back, out of Twilight’s face. “I don’t know why you’re the one who decides who lives and who dies. You’ve never even lived.”
“That’s enough!” Twilight stalked towards the exit. “Let me know when you’re ready to deal with this like an adult.”
Breathing heavily, Sunstone pulled open the farmhouse door and helped his mother inside. Two ponies looked up from their conversation as the two unicorns entered.
“Oh, good,” said Fluttershy. “You’re here. Let me help you to the sofa.” Despite her age, Fluttershy easily took Rarity’s weight from Sunstone.
As the two friends made their way across the room, Sunstone tried to remember where he had seen the other mare before. She was familiar enough that Sunstone was sure he’d be expected to know her name, but his mind refused to cooperate. She was a reddish earth pony, roughly his own age, with a short yellow-green mane and a thick, muscled body. Her flank marked her as part of the Apple clan, but Sunstone was sure he hadn’t seen her around the farm. She looked at him with a politely puzzled expression that matched his own.
“You must be thirsty from bringing Rarity all this way,” said Fluttershy. “Why don’t we get you some cider?”
Sunstone broke off his impromptu staring contest. “Thank you, Miss Fluttershy. That would be wonderful.”
Fluttershy nodded. “Honeycrisp, you remember Sunstone, right? Why don’t you take him out back and get some cider for the both of you?”
“Of course!” Honeycrisp visibly relaxed. “Sunstone. You were a couple or three years after me in school, right? Sweetie Belle’s class?”
“That’s right.” The memory clicked in his mind like two magnets snapping together. “You were the one who tried to tunnel your way out of the schoolyard in third grade.” He remembered Fluttershy’s child as a lanky blank-flanked filly, not this powerful mare, but it was unmistakably her.
“That was just the once,” said Honeycrisp. “This way.” She led him towards a rear door.
“I think you’ll find you have a lot in common,” said Fluttershy.
“You two have a good time!” called Rarity.
Sunstone found himself in the sprawling field behind the farmhouse. Honeycrisp started towards one of the numerous outbuildings, rolling her eyes as she went. “Sorry about that. I swear, she does this every time I come home.”
“I think I’m missing something,” said Sunstone. “Who does what every time?”
“My ma. Yesterday she was telling me all about Rarity’s son, Equestria’s best jeweler, and did you know he’s not married? Well, like that, except subtle. And now we just happen to find ourselves out on our lonesome.”
“I see,” said Sunstone. “My mom was probably in on it, too. It’s the sort of thing she does.”
“I bet. Moms, right?”
“Yes,” said Sunstone. “Moms.”
They walked in silence for a while.
“So where have you been?” Sunstone said at last. “I haven’t seen you in, what, thirty years?”
“Exploring, mostly. Just got back from six years mapping the wilds beyond Haydrian’s Wall. We got further than anypony before us ever did. I’m just stopping here for a few days on the way over to Baltimare to catch a ship. I know some folk who are putting together an expedition across the Arabian Sea.”
“Wow,” said Sunstone. “That, uh, that’s something.”
“Something, huh? Come on, what were you really gonna say?”
“That’s completely insane,” said Sunstone.
“Ain’t it just! But I wouldn’t give it up for anything. Nothing in civilization is half as exciting as being out there with just your wits and a few good ponies.”
“Exciting is nice when you’re young. By the time a pony is our age, though, you need something more tangible to hold onto.” The two of them reached their destination, a small, well-kept shed.
Honeycrisp raised an eyebrow. “You sound like Ma. You sure you ain’t married?” Honeycrisp led the way into the shed. The interior was clean but dim, and rows of casks stacked ceiling-high left little room to maneuver.
“I almost was, once,” Sunstone said as Honeycrisp fetched a pair of mugs and began filling them from a tap. “Didn’t work out. There are other things, though.”
“Like what?”
“For a long time it was my work. Mastering a trade and running a business takes a lot of time and energy. Meeting ponies wasn’t a priority, so it didn’t happen. I eventually slowed down and ran into somepony, and for a while we thought we’d be together forever, but, uh, obviously it didn’t happen. Then my mom got sick, and between taking care of her and keeping the shop open, there hasn’t been room for much else.”
Honeycrisp handed Sunstone a mug full to overflowing. “Ever wish it had gone different?”
Sunstone drained half the mug in one gulp. “Honestly? No. If I wanted a family that badly, I would’ve gone out and got one. I mean, if it works out someday, that’d be nice. If it doesn’t, well, the lack has never bothered me.”
“I hear you,” said Honeycrisp. “Some colt and a couple or three kids wouldn’t be bad, but it ain’t worth giving up everything else.” She paused as she saw Sunstone’s smirk. “What?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s just, when your mom was hoping we’d have something in common, I don’t think this is was she had in mind.”
“Hah! Sure ain’t.” She took a long, slow drink. “You know, you’re not half bad, for a townie. What say we meet up in Ponyville before I head out? I could use some company that ain’t named Apple.”
“I think I’d like that,” said Sunstone.
“Alright, I think I’m prepared. Is it ready?”
“Indeed. Proceed in thy own time.”
Twilight Sparkle nodded and began to focus. The two princesses hovered far, far over Canterlot, where the air was cold enough to leave ice in her mane. Twilight could feel Celestia’s presence above, guiding the sun to its resting place. As the sky dimmed to sapphire blue, Twilight sensed Celestia’s link to the heavens weakening and her own connection growing stronger.
“Okay,” said Twilight. “Here goes.” She let her wings continue to beat automatically while she stretched out her awareness, found the psychic location her mind insisted on thinking of as the place behind the sky, and pushed. An otherworldly tingle passed through her head.
Above, a glowing point of light streaked through the sky, throwing off shining sparkles behind it. Another appeared beside it, and another, and another. By the time the first had faded, the meteor shower had begun in earnest.
“Well done!” said Luna. “I can scarcely do better myself. Thy mastery of these abilities is most impressive.”
“Thanks,” said Twilight. “I guess it’s pretty neat.”
“Thou art not pleased?”
“No, no, this is wonderful,” said Twilight. “It’s magic on a whole new level. It makes me wish I’d learned to paint or something, just so I’d be prepared for this sort of artistry. This night is perfect, really.”
“And yet thou art distracted.”
“I guess,” said Twilight. “I’m running into some trouble with one of my friends. Well, she’s not exactly acting like a friend, lately. It’s hard to stop thinking about it.”
“Ah,” said Luna. “My sister spoke of thy troubles with Rainbow Dash. These friendships of thine have weathered storms time and again. I have no doubt that this one, too, shall pass.”
“Well, I can’t help wondering if I’m the one who’s wrong, here. She wants me to turn her into a princess. Part of me knows that I can’t, that I need to put the good of Equestria before the good of my friends, but… but how can anything be more important than friendship? That flies in the face of everything I’ve ever learned. I don’t know.”
“I see. Fly with me, Twilight Sparkle.” Luna dove, trading altitude for speed, with Twilight close behind. They were still well above the towers of Canterlot when Luna leveled off and made for the mountains behind the city. The peaks rose beneath them as the princesses flew on and on. Twilight heard nothing but the wind and the sound of her own wings. It was nearly an hour later that Luna alighted at the peak of the highest mountain. It was well and truly night, and Twilight felt control of the sky passing to Luna. From here, the lights of Canterlot could have been another cluster of stars. Those of Ponyville, even more distant, blurred together into a single fuzzy galaxy.
“Thou thinkst granting immortality to a common pony would be a great kindness,” said Princess Luna.
“For that one pony, yes, of course it would. Nopony wants to die.”
“Thou art wrong. Few have the fortitude to endure eternal life. Most ponies would suffer from such a fate.”
“But how do you know? Has anypony ever tried?”
“There is a story,” said Luna, “of the six ponies who discovered the Elements of Harmony. One of their number grew to understand friendship so thoroughly that she made their destinies into one, and so became the first alicorn. It was she who created our system of carefully choosing new alicorns, but that was not her first instinct. She was the first Element of Devotion, which you now call Loyalty, and she could not leave the one she loved most. The first princess taught the secret to her younger sister, the Element of Optimism, that they might live forever side by side.
“They were happy for a time, but it did not last. The older sister had discovered the path to immortality with her strength and wisdom. The younger sister was strong, but not strong enough, and so as her friends and family died, she grew lonely. She was wise, but not wise enough. Ponies paid little heed to her words, preferring her sister’s counsel, and she grew jealous. Dost thou recognize this story, Twilight Sparkle?”
Twilight nodded mutely.
“I scarce endured a hundred years before I went mad,” continued Luna. “I lacked a princess’s temperament, but I had an alicorn’s power. The battle was a near thing, as I remember it, although my sister disagrees. Perhaps she has the right of it. I was hardly lucid at the time.” She shrugged. “The details are unimportant. She banished me to a thousand years of solitude.
“A thousand years, Twilight Sparkle. I doubt whether thou canst truly understand what that means. When I learned what was to become of me, I begged my sister for death. It would have been a great mercy.”
“Are you sure?” said Twilight. “I mean, I don’t doubt that it was horrible, but you’re much better now. Would you really rather be dead?”
Luna gave her a look. “Hast thou lived a long life?”
“I guess so,” said Twilight. “I certainly feel old.”
“How old art thou? Eighty years?”
“Seventy-four.”
Luna’s voice was flat as a desert plain. Behind her, the stars burned cold and white. “All that thou hast done, every thought and every lesson and every joy, does not come to a twelfth part of the time I spent in exile. For every day thou spent laughing with thy friends, or watching their children grow, or learning from my sister, or mourning thy brother’s death, I spent a fortnight in a barren wasteland with no companion save my own madness. When I returned, I was a sad and broken thing. Were it not for thee, my mind would be shattered still. My life now is pleasant enough, and I have reason to hope it will remain so, but it was not worth it. Nothing could be worth that.”
It had been decades since Pumpkin Cake had built the patio outside Sugarcube Corner, but it was still a recent addition in Rarity’s mind. Regardless, it made for a wonderful place to meet a friend. It was a perfect day: Sunstone was off with that Apple girl, finally, and Rarity was meeting Twilight Sparkle for the first time in far too long. Once Tea Cake brought their lunch and the two friends had some privacy, Rarity spoke up. “I heard what happened between you and Rainbow Dash. I’d hoped the incident at the wedding would be the end of it, but this… well, it’s a terrible shame.”
Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “How did you find out about that? This is stressful enough without it becoming public knowledge.”
“Oh, don’t worry, darling. Rainbow told Fluttershy what happened, and she told me. Nopony knows but us girls. And Center Stage and Macintosh, of course. And Crabapple overheard some, but not very much, I don’t think.”
“That’s not entirely comforting.”
“Do relax, Twilight. It’s not as though the tabloids have their hooves on this,” said Rarity. “It was almost two weeks before I heard of it. If it took me that long, you can be certain news isn't spreading.” She sipped her tea. “Well? Go on, tell me everything.”
Twilight sighed. “It’s frustrating. I went over there to try to patch up our disagreement, but she just wouldn’t leave it alone. I mean, she was completely out of control. She’s Rainbow Dash, so she tried to hide how upset she was, but she’s Rainbow Dash, so it was pretty obvious. The things she said were just so crazy and so hurtful.”
“Mm. I hear you weren’t exactly blameless, yourself.”
“I didn’t say anything that isn’t completely true.”
“Really? Oh, dear,” said Rarity. “This is worse than I thought.”
“Okay, you lost me. Telling the truth is a bad thing, now?”
“Come now, Twilight. Cruel truths hurt far more than cruel lies. If you had simply insulted her, then you could take it back. On the other hoof, if you said something you earnestly believe, well, that can’t be undone. Now she knows what you think, and it may change your relationship permanently.”
“Maybe I was a little harsh with her,” said Twilight. “I tried to stay calm, I really did, but she just kept pushing and pushing until I couldn’t help but push back.” A magenta aura appeared around Twilight’s napkin and crushed it into a ball.
“That does sound like Rainbow Dash. It must be quite the disappointment. So, what are you going to do to set things right?”
“Nothing,” said Twilight. “I tried that, and Rainbow Dash made it clear that she’s not interested. I can’t force her to make peace. When she’s ready, I’ll be happy to talk to her. Until then, all I can do is keep my distance. She obviously needs her space, and I just can’t deal with her while she’s like this.” Twilight’s magic tore tiny shreds from her crumpled napkin, letting them fall to the table one by one.
“That’s a shame,” said Rarity, “but it’s understandable. I’ll try to talk to her. The rest of us aren’t long for this world, and this fight shouldn’t mar your last years with Rainbow Dash.”
Twilight stared at the sky. “Do you think I’m doing the right thing? Would it be wrong to turn all of you into alicorns?”
“That’s not my decision,” said Rarity. “Things like that are up to you and the other princesses.”
“Sure, but if you were a princess and I wasn’t, would you make me an alicorn?”
“Of course I would, Twilight, how can you even ask that?” Rarity paused as she realized what she had just said. “I mean, that’s not to say you’re doing anything wrong, exactly, it’s just that I’d do things differently if it were me, but of course it isn’t me and so—”
“It’s okay, Rarity. If I just wanted somepony to agree with me, I’d talk to the other princesses. Well, actually, I already did that. It did help, in a sad sort of way, but now I want to know what you think. Why would you do things that way?”
Rarity shrugged. “I suppose I don’t see the point of having a gift like that if you can’t share it.”
“It’s more complicated than—”
“I know that, darling. You don’t have to convince me. It really is your decision, and I imagine Celestia groomed you for your role in part because you’re able to make decisions like that. Yes, I’d like to be a princess. I’d like to live forever. I won’t, though, and that’s okay. I’ve had a good life. That’s enough.”
Sunstone came into view, cantering down the street and searching frantically in every direction. There was no sign of Honeycrisp, Rarity noted with disapproval.
Her son caught sight of her and rushed over. “Mom, there you are! I was with Honeycrisp when I heard, and I thought you’d want to know.”
“Know what?” said Rarity.
“It’s Fluttershy,” he said. “She’s in the hospital.”
“What?” said Twilight. “What happened?”
“I don’t know! It’s bad enough that they sent somepony to find Honeycrisp right away!”
The two mares shared a worried glance. “That’s not good,” said Twilight. “We should see what’s going on.”
Rarity nodded. “Thank you for finding us, Sunstone. Twilight, if you would?”
There was a flash of magic, and the two ponies disappeared.
Rarity and Twilight arrived at the hospital only minutes after the doctors managed to shoo Fluttershy’s children out of the patient’s room. The scene proved far less chaotic than either of them had expected. They quickly gathered that the doctors had prepared for Fluttershy’s arrival in advance. This had not been a surprise to them.
“I do wish you’d told us earlier,” said Rarity. “How bad is it?”
“Bad,” said Macintosh. He sat beside Fluttershy’s hospital bed. She was tucked into the snow-white sheets from the neck down.
“It wasn’t always this bad,” said Fluttershy. “It was only a matter of time, though.”
The door flew open, and Rainbow Dash rushed inside. “I came as soon as I heard,” she said. “What’s the—oh.” She stopped as she caught sight of Twilight. “I’ll come back later.”
“Please stay,” said Fluttershy. “I don’t have much time left with you two. I’d rather you didn’t spend it fighting.”
Dash opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it. She edged her way into the room. “So what’s even happening?”
“They say it’s my kidneys,” said Fluttershy. “They’ve been getting worse for months, now. I wanted to stay on the farm as long as I could, but now…”
“So how long are you stuck here?” asked Rainbow.
“Weeks,” said Macintosh. “Maybe months.” His eyes never left Fluttershy’s.
“Until the end,” said Fluttershy.
“What, you mean you’re not even trying to fix it?” said Rainbow Dash.
“They can’t,” said Fluttershy. “The doctors said there’s no way to fix a dying kidney. All they can do is make me comfortable.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” said Rarity. “We would’ve been there for you.”
Macintosh looked up for the first time. “You were.”
Fluttershy nodded. “I don’t like everypony worrying about something you can’t change. We wanted to keep it to just the two of us for as long as we could. This way, I got to live a normal life for a little while longer.”
“Twilight,” said Rainbow, “you could turn—”
“No.”
“But if—”
“Let’s not do this,” said Twilight. “Not here, and not now.”
Rainbow Dash stared at her for the space of a long breath. She turned and left, slamming the door behind her.
Twilight sighed in frustration. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” said Fluttershy.
“No, it isn’t,” said Twilight.
“No,” agreed Fluttershy. “It isn’t.”
Twilight closed her eyes and titled her head upwards, letting the sun’s warmth wash over her face. The hedge maze of the Canterlot gardens was in full bloom, nearly overpowering her earth pony senses with a barrage of life energy. Her awareness was sharpening as her control over her powers grew, and there was no end in sight. It was warm and bright beneath the noontime sun.
“You picked a good day for this,” Cadence said. She was curled up on the sweet grass, not far from the remains of the lunch they had shared.
“Celestia outdid herself this time,” Twilight said.
“She’s always impressed me, the way she can make each day fresh and beautiful.”
Twilight nodded. Now that she could appreciate the skill and power it took to control the sky, Celestia’s talent was more awe-inspiring than ever. “Did you ever learn to control the heavens?” she asked. “I’ve never seen you do anything like that.”
“No.” Cadence stood up and stretched. “My talents are different. You cosmic princesses have never been able to do what I do, either. Even Celestia can’t control or understand love at my level.” She walked to the hedge and plucked a lustrous yellow blossom.
“Then maybe you can help me. How do you handle it when somepony you love is dying?” Twilight opened her eyes and went to Cadence’s side. This was the real reason she had asked Cadence to come. “I’ve watched a lot of ponies die, and it’s never easy, but now it’s different. I’m not just watching, this time. I could save Fluttershy. I feel responsible for what’s happening.”
“You aren’t,” said Cadence. “Ponies die, eventually. You can’t stop every bad thing from happening, and it wouldn’t be good if you did. It’s like being a parent, in a lot of ways.”
“Wait,” said Twilight. “I thought you didn’t have children.”
“Not for a very long time. You wouldn’t know of them, probably, although you may have heard of Nocturne Sonata.”
“The Nocturne Sonata? Founder of Flankashire and father of Star Swirl the Bearded?”
“He had three other children, too,” said Cadence. Her gaze was fixed on her flower. “They were all special, even if they don’t have books written about them.”
Twilight stepped away from the hedge. “How old are you?” She had always assumed that Cadence was roughly her brother’s age, but in retrospect Twilight wasn’t sure where that idea had come from.
“I was born during King Sombra’s reign. I don’t make a habit of telling ponies. It puts too much of a barrier between us. I couldn’t live apart like that, the way Princess Celestia does.”
“And Princess Luna.”
Cadence grimaced. “I don’t think that sort of distance is good for Luna. I’ve talked about it with her, but you know how she is. She won’t even give up that silly dialect of hers. Her sister’s holding herself apart, so she’s doing it too, any way she can.”
“But we can reproduce. I was wondering. Except our offspring are mortal, and so we’d outlive—oh. Oh! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“Don’t be sorry. You’re talking about the happiest decades of my life.”
“But still, at the end… I mean, I’m having a hard enough time watching Fluttershy die.”
“I won’t pretend it didn’t hurt.” Cadence turned, putting her back to the hedgerow. She released her blossom, letting it drift to the carpet of half-decayed leaves beneath the hedge. “You know how much it hurts when somepony you love dies, and of all the deaths I’ve seen, nothing comes close to my own children. I have to be… very careful. It’s been a century and a half since I last gave birth, and I still don’t feel ready to go through all that heartache again just yet. The hurt fades, though. You remember what you were like when Shining Armor died?”
Twilight nodded. “I was a wreck. Dash and Pinkie had to drag me out of the library just to get me to the funeral.”
“I wasn’t much better,” said Cadence. “I’ve lost five husbands, but never anyone quite like him. How does it feel now, though?”
“I miss him when I think about him,” said Twilight, “but mostly I’ve moved on.”
“Exactly,” said Cadence. “It’s no different now that you’re immortal. Ponies you love will die, and it will hurt, and you’ll recover, and you’ll find new ponies to love. Mortal or not, that’s what life is.”
“Does it ever get any easier?”
“No. It doesn’t. Every time it happens, I remind myself that the good times outweigh the pain, and that there will be more ponies in the future. It’s true every time, but… well, you can guess how much that helps in the moment.”
“In my experience, the only thing that really helps is time.”
“Yes,” said Cadence. “Time. We have a lot of time.”
“Hey, Rainbow Dash!” The distant pounding on her front door went on and on. It had been going on for some time, and ignoring it didn’t seem to make it go away. “I know you’re in there, Aunt Dash. You don’t have anywhere else to be.” Rainbow Dash grumbled to herself and curled up tighter on her bed.
There was the sound of a door opening, and hoofsteps approached through the house. “Stars above,” came Crabapple’s voice. “You live in here? It’s like an empty warehouse.”
Rainbow Dash hauled herself upright and made her way out of the bedroom, blinking against the afternoon light streaming into her living room. Crabapple was staring at the solitary couch that was the room’s only decoration. “This must be where furniture comes to die.”
“Hey, Crabs,” said Rainbow. “What’s going on?”
“You’re pulling a disappearing act,” said Crabapple. “Ponies down in the world are starting to worry.”
“You’re worried about me?”
Crabapple shrugged. “Pa is. He doesn’t have wings, though, so guess who has to come after you instead? Unless you wanna head down and talk to him, that is.”
Rainbow Dash sighed. Flying all the way down there to have a talk like that was not her idea of fun. “Today’s not a real good day for it, Crabs.”
“Thought so. That means you’re stuck with me, then.” He plopped himself down on the couch, frowned, and tried to shift into a more comfortable position. “Stars and snails, what is wrong with this thing?” He kicked a throw pillow to the floor and curled up in the newly vacated space. “Look, I don’t do subtle. Get your tail down there while Ma’s still alive.”
“You don’t even care why I’m staying up here.”
“You want compassion, go talk to Pa. Better yet, talk to Ma. All I care about is that you’re busy wallowing in something or other while Ma is dying. You’re not gonna do this to her.”
“Did she say anything about me not being there?” said Rainbow.
“Are you joking? Of course not. You could set the old bird on fire and she still wouldn’t complain. She’s noticed, though, believe me.”
“Alright,” said Rainbow. “I’ll go visit sometime.”
“Sometime? Sure, no rush. She’s got all the time in the world, right?”
“I said I’d go. You’re being a jerk about this, even for you.”
“You can’t expect somepony with a name like Crabapple to be a popular character, now, can you?” Crabapple settled himself more firmly on the couch. “I’ll just stay here until you go visit. That should be no problem, since I’m sure you were planning to go real soon.”
There had been birdsong, she remembered, and flowers. She had been walking alongside… alongside someone she loved very much, she didn’t remember who. She remembered contentment. Everything had been perfect.
It didn’t last. She drifted towards wakefulness, and the dream tore into wisps of half-remembered comfort. The complaints from her failing body grew more insistent. It wasn’t quite painful, at least not yet, but the pervasive weakness never left her limbs and chest, and her stomach teetered constantly on the brink of nausea. She was bearing it well, growing accustomed to the aches almost as fast as they worsened, but she knew it was only a matter of time before she would have to give up and go to the hospital, never to leave.
She tried to hold fast to the last shards of her dream, to clasp them to her breast forever. She lay there, in that half-aware state on the border of sleep, for how long she didn’t know. The dream was nearly gone, but she was warm and comfortable. After a minute or an hour, a hoof gently shook her shoulder.
Fluttershy blinked her eyes open. These walls were unfamiliar, and this bed was not her own. She recognized only the face of the pony before her, but that was enough to set her at ease. “Where are we?” she asked.
“The hospital,” said Macintosh.
“Oh.” The memory clicked into place. She had been here for two weeks, almost. “That’s right.”
“Good dreams?” asked Macintosh, as he had every time she woke up here.
“Maybe. I don’t remember.”
“Somepony here to see you.”
“Who?” Fluttershy pulled herself into a sitting position. “Oh. Hello, Rainbow Dash.”
“Hey.” Rainbow was half-leaning on the doorframe. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m okay,” said Fluttershy. “I’m more worried about you.”
“Stars and thunder, you mean it.” Rainbow Dash made a sound that was three parts laugh and one part sob. “Even now, you’re still gonna watch out for us. If you put half as much work into taking care of yourself…”
“That wouldn’t do much good, now.” Fluttershy’s ever-present headache started to assert itself, but she refused to acknowledge it. “Thank you for coming by.”
“Yeah. Sorry it took so long.” Rainbow Dash went to Fluttershy’s bedside.
“You’ve been hiding.” It was a statement, not an accusation.
“Hey!” Rainbow Dash puffed herself up. For a moment, Fluttershy thought she was going to argue, but Rainbow deflated. “I guess. Yeah, I kinda was. I don’t really like all the…” She waved a hoof, encompassing the hospital room. “You know.”
“I know. It’s hard for everypony. You don’t have to deal with it alone, though. Your friends are there for you.”
“Well, Rarity’s there,” said Rainbow Dash. “Pinkie’s in Fillydelphia, and Twilight? Not so helpful.”
“Don’t have to be that way,” said Macintosh.
Fluttershy nodded. “I don’t like seeing the two of you fight like this. Can’t you forgive her?”
“Honestly?” said Rainbow. “No. Not while she’s gonna stand by and let you die.”
“Please don’t do this because of me,” said Fluttershy. “I lived a long time. I just watched my grandson get married. Dying is okay, now.”
“Is it? If Twilight came through that door right now and said she’d turn you into a princess, wouldn’t you be happy? I mean, maybe you could do it even without her help. I can try to find a way.”
“I’m not afraid of dying. I know this life isn’t the end for us. It can’t be.” Fluttershy rested a hoof on Rainbow Dash’s shoulder. “What’s happening now is natural. What you’re feeling is also natural, but it’s not Twilight’s fault. Please don’t take this out on her.”
Rarity levitated the wine bottle and filled her glass for the second time. “Are you sure I can’t pour you a cup, darling?”
“Yep,” said Center Stage. In the dim candlelight, she could pretend they were the only two ponies in the world. “Doc says I’m not supposed to touch the stuff. I swear, it’d be easier if she just gave me a list of things I can still eat.”
“In that case,” said Rarity, “I shan’t have any, either.” As delicious as it was—and it was a deliciously dry chardonneigh—there wasn’t much point if she couldn’t share it.
“Don’t even think about it. Maybe I can’t drink anymore, but they won’t stop me from watching my wife enjoy herself.”
“Dinner is served.” Sunstone came in from the kitchen, levitating two plates of a light floral salad, and set them on the small oaken table between his parents. “Happy anniversary, you two.”
“Oh, yes.” Center Stage inhaled deeply. “Smells great. What would I do without you?”
“Learn to cook, probably,” said Sunstone. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t let you two have the night to yourselves. I was going to be out with Honeycrisp, but she needs to take care of her mom. Anyway, I’ll leave you to it.”
“See?” Center Stage called at Sunstone’s retreating back. “We were right! You two do have a lot in common!”
Rarity sighed. “Please, darling. What’s happening to Fluttershy is no laughing matter.”
“Everything is a laughing matter!” Center Stage spread his forelegs with a dramatic flourish. “Either you laugh—”
“—or you go insane,” Rarity finished for him. She had heard him say it often enough. “Maybe I need to go a little mad, this time.”
Center Stage’s grin faltered. He put his hoof on Rarity’s. “I’m going to miss her, too.”
Rarity stared at her plate. “Considering my health, I didn’t think I’d live to see this.” She poked a fork at her salad, holding it with her magic rather than move her swollen legs. “I’m sorry. Tonight is supposed to be a happy night.”
“Can I be happy that you did live to see this? The world is a much nicer place with you still in it.”
Rarity felt a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “I must say I prefer it this way, too.”
“Yeah! Plus, if you were gone, I’d have to make my own suit for the Summer Sun Celebration, and we both know how badly that would go. How’s that coming along, anyway?”
Rarity felt herself relax as she started talking about her latest project. Center Stage always knew how to cheer her up, even when Rarity knew exactly what he was trying to do. The wine was excellent, the salad was better, and the company best of all. The evening was every bit as magical as Rarity had hoped.
It lasted for hours, but it seemed like no time at all before it was over. Soon enough, the two of them were making their way upstairs, towards their bedroom and rest.
They had only gone up four steps when she fell. One moment she was leaning on her husband as they climbed, the next her hooves were sliding out from under her. Her chest slammed into the hard wooden lip of a stair, sending a lance of pain through her body. She tumbled down the rest of the short fall and landed with her right hindleg twisted under her. Rarity’s world shrank to a small lump of agony.
When she regained her senses, Sunstone and Center Stage were standing over her. “…said they’d go get a doctor,” Center Stage was saying. “She should get here soon. I hope.”
The line of burning pain across her chest worsened every time she drew breath. Her hip hurt even worse. Looking down, Rarity saw her leg sticking out at an unnatural angle. She tried to ask what was happening, but all that came out was an incoherent moan. Center Stage knelt down beside her. “I’m sorry, my jewel. I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s my fault,” said Sunstone, pacing back and forth. “Sun and Moon, I should’ve been there.”
“Nopony expects you to watch her every moment,” said Center Stage. “It’s not as though you’re her mother.”
“Not your fault,” Rarity croaked. “I fell.”
“I dropped you, you mean,” said Center Stage.
“Not your fault,” Rarity repeated.
“Can you move?” said Sunstone.
Rarity tried to put her hooves under her. A stabbing pain ripped through her rear hip. “Aaah!”
“Probably not, then.” Center Stage put his forehooves on her shoulders, gently holding her in place. “Hold still. Help will be here soon.”
Crabapple was in the hospital when the princess arrived. He was a real sweetheart, Fluttershy knew, even if no one else saw it. For all his gruff words, he spent almost as much time at Fluttershy’s bedside as his siblings. Her son was all bark and no bite.
The princess appeared in a burst of incandescence that made the antiseptic hospital room glow like the dawn for half a moment. Crabapple hopped back and Fluttershy froze momentarily, but Macintosh only blinked as Celestia materialized.
“Oh!” said Fluttershy. “Hello, Princess.”
Celestia beamed. “Good evening, my little ponies. It’s so good to see all of you.”
Crabapple recovered himself quickly. “Most ponies knock,” he said.
Celestia half-turned towards him. “Oh, I like this one.”
“You’ve met,” said Macintosh.
“Have we?” said Celestia.
“We have?” said Crabapple.
Fluttershy nodded. “You were two years old when I took you to visit the palace.”
“Oh!” Celestia smiled. “I remember. You bit my sister, as I recall.”
Crabapple blinked. “I bit a princess.”
Celestia nodded. “She thought it was adorable. Eventually.”
“Hah! Priceless.” Crabapple shook his head. “I bit a princess!”
Fluttershy would have loved to listen to them go on, but she knew that wasn’t why Celestia had come. “You’re here to say goodbye,” she said.
“Yes. We’ve had some wonderful times together, Fluttershy. Equestria is a better place because you were in it. I’ll be sorry to see you go.”
“Oh. Thank you. It’s been nice.” Fluttershy took a moment to steady herself as a wave of nausea washed over her. They were coming more and more frequently, but this one passed quickly. “I’m so tired, though. It will be good to rest.”
“Not just yet, you won’t,” said Crabapple. “There’s still some life in you.”
“If there’s anything I can do for you, while there’s time,” said Celestia, “you’ve more than earned it.”
“Just take care of my friends, is all. They’re going through a hard time.”
“Of course.” Celestia nodded solemnly. “I take care of all my ponies.”
“Twilight, too,” said Fluttershy. “I know she’s a princess, but she’s still the same Twilight she always was.”
“I’ll watch out for her. Don’t worry.”
“Good,” said Fluttershy. “That’s good. Now… excuse me, Princess, but I’m very tired. I think I need to rest.”
“Hi, Honeycrisp.” Sunstone stood before a workbench covered with fastidiously organized rows of pliers, drills, files, and brushes. He was working on a bronze hoop of just the right thickness to slip over a pony’s foreleg. It was studded with settings for jewels, although only a few had been fitted with lapis stones so far. The order was overdue, thanks to the time he’d spent at his mother’s side in the hospital, but Miss Bon Bon had been very understanding. The doctors said Rarity should be able to leave the hospital in a few weeks, although it was anyone’s guess whether she would walk again. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today. What’s the occasion?”
Honeycrisp nodded a greeting. “I came to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye?” Sunstone gave her a blank look. “I don’t understand. I thought you were enjoying this.”
“Oh, I did, believe you me. Next time I’m around, reckon I’ll drop by and see if you’re still available. Still, it’s time I was moving on. I got a ship to catch, and it ain’t gonna wait for me forever.”
“What, you mean you’re leaving town?” Sunstone went from confused to incredulous. “With your mom the way she is?”
“I don’t plan on waiting around for her to die. The rest of the world ain’t stopping. I’m glad I got to see her when I did, but I ain’t built to stay in one place. Ma understands.”
“Does she?”
“As well as she ever understood me.” Honeycrisp shrugged. “Some apples fall further from the tree, is all. Anyhow, I just wanted to let you know.”
“Right.” Sunstone set down his tools. “I can’t convince you to stay, can I?”
“You know me better than that.”
“I guess I do. Well, I enjoyed the time we had. It was…” He searched for the right word. “Fun.”
“It sure was.” Honeycrisp grinned. “You oughta have fun more often. There’s a big world waiting for you out there, you know. Anyway, I need to get moving. My train leaves before too long.”
Sunstone watched as Honeycrisp walked out of his shop and out of his life.
Twilight Sparkle gazed into the depths of the heavens. She was using the same reliable telescope that had sat on the library’s balcony for a lifetime and more, but she saw nuances that had been invisible to her eyes even a few months before. It reminded her of the grandfather clock in her childhood home. It had always been a thing of beauty, and as a foal she had spent hours entranced by its legs’ steady motion. One day, her mother had taken the clock apart to show Twilight how it worked. The two of them went over every spoke and gear before putting the clock back together. Twilight’s love for the old device had doubled on that day. Thereafter, every time she looked at its face, she imagined the harmonious choreography of its inner workings. She looked at the night sky in the same way.
There was a knock at the front door, far below. Twilight looked up, still suffused with the peace of the stars. She teleported downstairs with an idle thought, opened her door, and froze. Her calm drained away in an instant.
“Twilight.” Rainbow Dash stood outside, bouncing from hoof to hoof as if she wanted nothing so much as to turn tail and run. Her eyes were red, although she had wiped away the tears.
Twilight scowled. “No. I can’t do this again.” She pushed the door shut.
Rainbow’s leg shot forward. She winced as her hoof caught between door and frame, holding it open. “Twilight, please! I have to talk to you. It’s about Fluttershy. Please. It’s important.”
Twilight hesitated. She had never heard anything like the plaintive note in Rainbow’s voice. Seeing her friend… seeing her former friend looking so broken should have made Twilight feel superior, but instead it just felt wrong, like when Pinkie Pie had refused to attend her own fortieth birthday party.
She relented, releasing the door and letting Rainbow Dash push it open. “Okay then, for Fluttershy. What is it?” She kept one hoof on the door, ready to slam it shut again.
“You know what it is! She’s dying! Please… please don’t let her die.”
“You know better than that,” snapped Twilight. “That gift isn’t for everyone.”
“I’m not asking you to do it for everyone!” Rainbow Dash was shouting. Her wings quivered as she fought the urge to flare them outwards. “I’m asking you to do it for Fluttershy! Please!” Her voice broke. “Please. Just Fluttershy. Only her. She doesn’t deserve to die.”
Despite herself, Twilight felt her heart soften. “I’m sorry. I really am. I can’t do that.”
“You can! You have to!” Rainbow Dash sank to her front knees. “Please. You were right. About everything. It really is for the best, and I just didn’t want to die. You’re right. I’m selfish, I’m a coward. You should, you should let me die. But please, not Fluttershy. Not her, too.”
Twilight looked away. “Get up,” she said. “You look like a fool.” There weren’t many ponies outside the library at this time of night, but the few passers-by had stopped to stare at the spectacle.
“And what does Fluttershy look like? You’ve seen her, Twilight. It’s much worse than…” Rainbow’s voice choked off. She took several deep breaths before she could speak again. “It’s much worse than this. You can save her. Please.”
“You know I want to—”
“Then do it!”
“If I start down that road, I’ll never be able to stop,” said Twilight. “Pretty soon we’d have dozens of princesses, maybe even hundreds. How would we rule Equestria then? It would be chaos. That’s more important than any one pony.”
Rainbow Dash crawled forward and clutched Twilight’s foreleg. “Please, Twilight. I’ll never ask you for anything again. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll tell everypony you were right. I’ll leave Equestria, you won’t ever have to see me again. I don’t care. Anything. Just, please. This is Fluttershy I’m talking about. Don’t let her die. You can’t let her die.”
“What about my duty to Princess Celestia? What about my duty to all of Equestria?”
“What about your duty to your friends?”
“That’s ENOUGH!” Twilight’s voice rose to a shriek. She couldn’t take this anymore. “You know how this works as well as I do! I can’t do everything I want to!” She seized Rainbow Dash in a telekinetic grip and shoved her away. The old pony fell to the grass in a tangle of legs and wings, letting out a sound that was half shout, half wheeze. “I have responsibilities now that are bigger than us! This is what has to happen!” Rainbow Dash lay gasping in the dirt. The crowd had grown beyond a dozen ponies. “Now get out of here before you disgrace yourself any more than you already have.” Twilight slammed the door.
It had been only a few days after Honeycrisp left that Fluttershy’s condition took a turn for the worse. Now, Golden Apple stood vigil beside the bed where her mother dozed fitfully. Macintosh sat next to her; Golden Apple hadn’t seen him away from his wife’s side since coming back to Ponyville. The sun was almost down, so Golden Apple was expecting Crabapple to arrive any minute and take her place. They were making sure at least one of Ma’s children was present at all times, just in case.
The door flew open, but it wasn’t Crabapple who came through. “Aunt Goldie! How is—”
“Hush, dear. She’s asleep.”
“Sorry.” Apple Sprout had the grace to look abashed. “How is she?” he asked, quieter, as Honey Pie came in and shut the door.
“Not good,” Golden Apple whispered. “She’s not awake very much, anymore. I’m glad you’ve come. I know this isn’t what you wanted to do with your honeymoon.”
“There’s nowhere we’d rather be, right now,” said Honey Pie. “I was so worried we wouldn’t make it in time.”
Fluttershy’s eyes flickered open. Macintosh leaned in and nuzzled her. “Good dreams?”
“Good morning, dear.” Fluttershy smiled up at him.
Golden Apple leaned in close. “Ma. Guess who’s come to see you.”
“Is Honeycrisp back?”
Golden Apple froze with a brittle smile on her face. She wasn’t sure how to answer. Disappointing her mother at this stage just seemed cruel.
Apple Sprout stepped forward. “Hi, Granny.” He carefully embraced Fluttershy’s fragile body.
“Oh, Sprout. It’s so good to see you. I hope you didn’t come all this way just for me.”
“We have news for you,” said Honey Pie. “You’re going to be a great-grandmother.”
Macintosh coughed. “That was fast,” he said. Apple Sprout blushed, but his grin didn’t fade.
“That’s so wonderful.” Fluttershy fought a yawn. “I wish I could see her.”
“You will.” Apple Sprout clasped her hoof with both of his own. “It won’t be too long. You will.”
“Oh,” Fluttershy said vaguely. “Good.” She settled back into the bed. Her family watched, unwilling to disturb her, as Fluttershy drifted back into sleep.
The day of the funeral was warm and bright. Puffs of cloud speckled the noontime sky. Birdsong filled the air in the lush green meadow where the mourners had assembled. At the center, a lightless hole gaped open like a wound in the world. The coffin sat unmoving in the darkness.
Twilight stood beside the pit, her stomach a riot of grief and guilt. Fluttershy’s absence burned like a hot coal, but she could not cry. She had spent too long anticipating this, she realized. Twilight had argued that Fluttershy’s death was necessary, and now that she had convinced herself, the cool, logical core of her mind refused to mourn. Twilight could not forgive herself for that.
Beside her, Macintosh had no such problem. He was sobbing silently, his face a portrait of the heartache Twilight was unable to let herself feel. He looked lost, even dazed, as though he could not quite understand what was happening.
Twilight laid a comforting hoof across Macintosh’s withers. “I’m sorry this had to happen,” she said. The words were hollow and inadequate, but she made herself say them anyway.
“Ain’t your fault,” Macintosh said. Twilight felt like he had read her mind. She glanced to the edge of the crowd, where Rainbow Dash still lurked on the fringes, as she had throughout the funeral.
Reluctantly, Twilight walked from the grave, making room for Pinkie Pie and the rest of the oncoming mourners. She looked back to Rainbow Dash, who watched with a face like an unmarked tombstone. Twilight turned away, then changed her mind. She felt like she had lost two friends, lately, but one of them could still be regained. Twilight changed course and went to Rainbow, steeling herself to withstand the accusing glare.
“I’m sorry,” Twilight said. “I haven’t been a good friend. I walked away when you needed me most, and… and…”
Twilight trailed off, transfixed by Rainbow Dash’s glare. Twilight had gazed into the mad eyes of Discord and beheld Nightmare Moon’s leer with all its jealousy and spite. She had faced down the boundless rage of the First Dragon and the changeling queen’s all-consuming hunger and the emotionless void that was the King With No Face. None of that prepared her for the contempt she saw in Rainbow’s eyes right now. Twilight stood transfixed, too shocked even to step away.
The two of them stayed that way for half a minute. Finally, Rainbow Dash broke the stillness. Without breaking eye contact, she spat at Twilight’s hooves. Rainbow turned her back and stalked away, leaving Twilight Sparkle alone with the crowd.
Sunstone looked up as Twilight Sparkle entered the sterile hospital room. She was wearing a somber black gown; she must have come straight from the funeral. Twilight’s eyes went immediately to the bed where Rarity lay unconscious. “How is she?” she asked softly.
“Better,” said Sunstone. “The doctors don’t think she’ll walk again, but the pain is less than it was.” He paused. “And Miss Fluttershy?”
“It’s done.” Her voice was firm. “I need to talk to your mother. Is it okay to wake her up?”
“I don’t think you’d be able to. She just took her medicine, so she’ll be out of it for a while.” Sunstone was thankful for that. Rarity’s hip was improving, it was true, but her joints had been bad enough before the fall. Now, the medicine was the only thing keeping her pain bearable.
“Oh.” Twilight hesitated. “Well… would you tell her goodbye for me? I’m going to Canterlot for a while. A long while.”
“Princess business?”
“Not really. I just… Ponyville’s getting too complicated. I need a little distance.”
“Oh. Huh.” Sunstone wasn’t sure what to make of that. Mom would be disappointed, for sure. “Well, I’ll tell her you stopped by.”
“Thanks. I should get going.” Twilight turned to go, paused, looked back. “Sunstone? If I could keep your mom from dying, do you think it would be the right thing to do?”
Twilight was trying far too hard to keep her voice neutral, Sunstone noticed, and she wasn’t meeting his eyes. “That’s not hypothetical,” he said quietly, “is it?”
“Not entirely, no.”
Sunstone looked at Rarity’s sleeping body. She had lost so much weight that her outline was almost lost among the blankets. She looked peaceful, as she so seldom did. He sighed. “I don’t want her to die, but that’s selfishness.” His voice was soft and steady. “Her time is almost done. Keeping her around like this would be cruel. Letting her go is the right thing for her, no matter how much it hurts.”
“Okay. Right. You’re a good pony.” Twilight swallowed. “You’re a good son. Tell her I love her, okay?”
Sunstone nodded.
“I should get going,” Twilight said again. She hurried out.
Macintosh had watched the farmhouse grow as generations passed. There were enough annexes, wings, and outbuildings that the original structure was almost hidden from outside view. Despite the additions, most of which Macintosh had helped build with his own hooves, the house was always crowded. Children and grandchildren, both his own and Apple Bloom’s, slept two and three to a room. It was impossible to go down a flight of stairs without bumping into a familiar face or three.
Tonight it was the loneliest place in the world.
Macintosh shifted in his bed. It was too much space for just one pony. He had been lying there for hours, alone with Fluttershy’s absence. Gray starlight outlined the clock at his bedside. Three o’clock.
There was a noise from the balcony. Apple Bloom had built it for Fluttershy when she first moved in so that the pegasus could come and go by air. He had heard the thump of his wife landing there hundreds of times. A moment passed before he realized this was not—could not be—her.
Still, Macintosh could hear small movements. Somepony was definitely out there. He forced himself upright and opened the door. Beyond, Rainbow Dash turned away from the sky to look at him in surprise. Age and the colorless light of the stars bleached her mane a dull gray.
He nodded a greeting, leaving his questions unspoken. Macintosh had never seen the point in saying the obvious. Ponies used so many words to say so little, but the important things usually couldn’t be spoken with words.
Rainbow Dash blinked. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again.
He stepped onto the balcony beside her and sat. After a moment, Rainbow followed suit. The stars hung above them like ashes.
He rested his head on her shoulder. She wrapped her wing around his back. They leaned into each other, sharing their warmth and their pain. Afterwards, Macintosh couldn’t say how long they sat like that before he fell asleep.
Twilight Sparkle’s eyes followed the steady motion of her grandfather clock’s pendulum. She sat unmoving on the polished granite floor of her chambers in the palace. According to the clock, she had been here for two hours, sixteen minutes, and nine seconds.
Moving the clock here from her home in Ponyville, where it had rested since she inherited it from her mother, had been painful. Thanks to her nearly limitless magical power, it had taken her only moments to transport, but the emotional toll was greater. It was an admission that her home was now in Canterlot, not Ponyville. The ties that bound her there were being severed, one by one. Her friends were going or gone, and as for those who remained… when she had visited Rarity in the hospital, it only reminded her of seeing Fluttershy in the same position. And so she was here, watching the clock as it ticked in a perfect, unchanging circle.
A soft knock on the door snapped Twilight out of her reverie. She turned her head and pulled the door open with her magic, revealing Starberry, her valet. “Excuse me, Your Highness,” she said. “Princess Celestia is here to see you.”
“Thank you,” said Twilight. “Show her in.” Starberry bowed and left. Twilight stood and stretched, working out the kinks that hours of stillness had left in her limbs. She felt almost normal by the time Celestia arrived.
“They tell me you haven’t left these chambers in four days,” Celestia said without preamble.
Twilight nodded. “I need some time. I’ve had a lot to think about since the funeral.” As much as she always loved to see Celestia, this wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have right now.
“You know this isn’t healthy.” Celestia walked forward, her shimmering mane trailing behind her. “You need to reach out, now more than ever. I thought you learned that lesson after your brother died.”
“That was different.” Twilight’s eyes followed Celestia’s advance, but the rest of her was still. “I’m okay now, really. His death was a tragedy, not a part of the plan.”
“It can’t be both?”
“No! No it can’t! If Fluttershy’s death was a tragedy and I let it happen, then… then… it isn’t, okay?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It isn’t.”
“You have to mourn, Twilight. Otherwise you’ll never be able to move on.”
“I’ve never seen you mourn. I can be strong, too.”
“You’ve never seen me barricade myself in my chambers, either. I’ve had lifetimes to learn how to handle grief. You haven’t, yet. Pretending otherwise will only hurt you. Let me help protect you from that.”
Twilight wavered. Celestia had never wanted anything except to help her and protect her, to protect all of Equestria, but… “But how can I be sad about it when I chose for it to happen?” she asked plaintively.
“You had to do it,” said Celestia. “That doesn’t mean it was easy. It’s only natural to be sad, Twilight. You know that. What are you running from?”
“I…” Twilight swallowed. “I don’t know. It’s just… at the funeral, the way Rainbow Dash looked at me, like I didn’t even deserve to be there. And, and she was right. I know I did the right thing, letting Fluttershy die, but I still let her die.” She was talking quickly now, voicing thoughts she had not dared to think. “I don’t have the right to be sad about it now. I gave that up when I put the greater good before my friend’s life.”
“Twilight Sparkle, look at me.” Celestia stood to her full height. “What I am about to tell you is unspeakably important. It may be the most important thing I have ever told you.” She leaned in close. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Twilight crumpled. “It was,” she bawled. “It w-was. I could have s-saved her and I didn’t.”
“Shhh. It’s okay.” Princess Celestia wrapped Twilight in her wings, enveloping her in a downy blanket of purest white. “I know it hurts. Let it out.”
Twilight clutched Celestia and buried her face in her mentor’s shoulder. She tried to speak, but her words were swallowed by great shuddering sobs. She gave up and melted against Celestia, weeping into her shining coat. Twilight wasn’t sure what she was feeling, where all this helpless sorrow had been buried, but she was unable to stem the flow. She stayed that way for some time, heaving and gasping until she had nothing left inside.
“You’re a good pony, Twilight,” said Celestia. “You want to help the ones you care about, but usually the best way to help ponies is to do nothing at all. There’s a big difference between causing something and not stopping something. One makes you responsible and one is just nature taking its course. Some things have to happen, even when it’s hard, even when it means giving up the things that mean more to you than anything.
“You’re not the only pony making a sacrifice, though. Every pony who lives and dies is giving an incredible gift to the future. They’re agreeing to take their turn and then move on, letting their children have the world to themselves, and then their children, and their children. It’s a noble thing, and beautiful in its way. Fluttershy gave away everything. She died for Equestria, and even if she wasn’t facing down some monster, it was still heroic. She wasn’t upset, and she didn’t blame you, because it wasn’t your fault.”
Twilight sniffled. Her forelegs were beginning to ache with the effort of clinging to Celestia, but she couldn’t bring herself to relax her grip. “Okay. But, but what do I do when the last of them dies, and I don’t have anypony left?”
“That won’t happen. You’ll make new friends. Life goes on, the good and the bad.”
Twilight looked up. “Princess. Are you happy?”
Celestia blinked. “You mean right now?”
“In general. At all. Outliving everypony.”
“Of course I am. You know how much I enjoy playing Go with my sister, or flying over the palace at noon, or watching you grow. You’re not sad because you’re immortal, Twilight. You’re sad because somepony you love just died, and being a princess has nothing to do with it. Those feelings won’t last forever, but you will. When you’re feeling better, you’ll find the rest of the world is still there to make life worth living.”
Twilight wiped at her eyes. “If you say so.”
“Twilight, let me be blunt. You’re making me worried. What you’re doing now reminds me of how Luna was acting, a decade before she snapped.”
Twilight gaped. “You think I’ll turn evil like Nightmare Moon?”
“Not quite like that, no. She wasn’t willing to talk to me, but you are. That’s encouraging.” The tiniest line creased Celestia’s brow. “Although I don’t usually have to push you to open up like this.”
“I’m sorry,” Twilight whispered.
“Luna’s weakness was that she couldn’t bear to be neglected,” said Celestia. “Yours is that you can’t bear to watch your friends suffer. I’m afraid you’ll act on that someday. Your heart and your head don’t agree, and nopony can ignore their heart forever, nor should they. I know you understand what you have to do, but you haven’t accepted it yet.”
“Well, what if there’s another way? What if I can help them without turning them into alicorns? My magic is so powerful. Maybe an age spell! If I continually recast it before it wears off, I could keep Rarity young.”
“Even with your heightened powers, an age spell will only last a couple of hours. Sooner or later you’ll have to sleep.”
Now that her mind had started looking for a solution, Twilight couldn’t shut it down. “I could prolong the effect with a temporal dilation spell. No, no, time spells don’t combine well. Maybe I could link her morphic field to something and anchor the spell to that, keep it working longer. I’d need something stable enough to last but also mutable enough to—”
“No.” One word was enough to shred Twilight’s gossamer hopes. “You’re still trying to meddle in things best left alone. If Rarity stays around forever, when will Sunstone become his own pony? What will happen to the next young fashionista who tries to make a name for herself? Rarity already had her time in the spotlight. I think she’d agree it’s time she gave that role to somepony else.” Celestia paused. “And incidentally, age magic works by suppressing and overwriting the morphic field. Stabilizing the field would negate the spell completely.”
“Oh. But… even if staying around so long is bad, it doesn’t sound as bad as dying.”
“Dying happens once, and then it’s the end. Or perhaps it isn’t the end, after all. Who can say? But if older ponies keep the younger generations from living up to their potential, not just once but over and over and over…”
“I guess that doesn’t sound fair.”
“As much as I’d like to keep you here, I think you should spend some time with these younger ponies. You need a reminder that life and beauty will still be out there, even after the other Element bearers are gone. You need a reminder that there’s more to life than death. I know there are younger ponies you care about, both in Ponyville and here in Canterlot. They can give you so much. Please, let them.”
“Okay.” Twilight nodded. “Okay, I will.”
Apple Sprout cantered across Sweet Apple Acres, towards the distant figure of Rainbow Dash. She was taking Granny Fluttershy’s death hard, Sprout knew, but this was worrying. And, he admitted to himself, more than a little bit silly. Of course, none of that was a surprise, coming from his great-aunt.
“Auntie Dash!” Apple Sprout called when he was close enough to be heard. “What in the great blue sky are you doing?”
Rainbow Dash adjusted the harness, pulling canvas straps tight across her chest. “What does it look like I’m doing? Now that I’m back, I figured I should help out.” A heavy chain trailed from the harness and wrapped around a gnarled stump. The tree had fallen a couple of weeks ago, and while Apple Sprout and his cousins had chopped the trunk into firewood, they hadn’t made time to remove the stump just yet. They were hard workers, but a task like that was more than enough to give them pause.
Apple Sprout pulled to a stop beside Rainbow. “That’s awfully thoughtful,” he said. “How about you help me pull down the rest of the leaves? Let us kids handle this one.”
Rainbow Dash pulled herself to her full height. “You saying I’m told old for this?”
“Auntie Dash,” Apple Sprout said, “My dad is too old for what you’re doing. Remember when he tried, and busted up his knee? Weren’t you the one who took him to the hospital?”
Rainbow snorted. “First you guys wanted me back here. Now I’m back and you don’t want me helping.”
“Dad wanted you back here so you’d take care of yourself. This is… well, it’s something else. You’ll just hurt yourself trying to do the impossible.”
“It’s fine, kiddo. I got this. I do impossible things all the time.”
“Sure, but if—”
“Kid.” Rainbow Dash fixed him with a glare like a wounded animal’s. “I said back off.”
Apple Sprout faltered. “Alright,” he said. “Just be careful, okay?”
“Sure. You know me.” She gave the chain an experimental tug. “Careful.”
Rarity’s boutique had never felt like home to Rainbow Dash. That sort of frilly stuff always put her a little off-balance. Still, even if the place wasn’t comfortable, it had at least been familiar. Now, though…
Not that she disliked what Sunstone had done with the place, Rainbow thought as she followed the stallion past cases of gleaming jewelry. The kid had talent, and his stuff looked good. Better than Rarity’s dresses, actually, although she’d never say so out loud. The gold and silver and diamonds were bright and colorful without being all fancy. Still, she missed the dresses now that they were almost all gone. The shop was no longer Rarity’s in anything but name.
“I’m glad you stopped by, Miss Dash,” said Sunstone. “Mom needs a friend now. It’s been tough ever since she got back from the hospital.”
Rainbow nodded at the kid as she went past him, past the storefront, through a short hall, and into the parlour. The room smelled of medicine and too much incense. Rarity lay on her chaise longue, which had been fitted with sheets and a pillow. Of course; her bedroom was upstairs, and she was in no shape to climb. Neither was Rainbow Dash, really—she had uprooted the stump, eventually, but her whole body was still complaining from the ordeal. Under the thin sheets, she could see the lump made by Rarity’s cast where it immobilized her hip. Rarity’s face was sallow and weary, but her smile was as bright as ever.
“Hey, you,” said Rainbow.
“Rainbow Dash! You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t get up. Come here, please.”
Rainbow Dash made her way to Rarity’s side and embraced her. “It’s so good to see you.”
Something in her tone must have tipped Rarity off. “Are you quite alright, darling?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” Rainbow looked at everything but Rarity. “I just feel like it’s down to only the two of us, right?”
“I understand completely. I haven’t seen much of Twilight and Pinkie since, well. You know.”
“How are you holding up?”
“Oh, well enough, I suppose,” said Rarity. “It’s good to be back here, if nothing else. The hospital staff were such dears, but it wasn’t home. The immobility is frustrating, I’ll grant, but I wasn’t exactly in my prime before I fell.”
“I don’t know how you stand it.” Rainbow Dash shook her head. “Staying in one place like that, I mean.”
Rarity shrugged. “It’s not as though I have much choice. It’s not so bad, really, although I was ever so sorry to miss the funeral.”
“Yeah. I really wish you could’ve made it. I think Fluttershy would’ve wanted you there.” In her mind, Rainbow Dash still saw Twilight standing by the grave, acting sad now that it was too late to matter. The image sat in her gut like a rock. “I mean, I needed you there, you know? Are you sure there was no way for you to get there?”
“Quite sure,” said Rarity. “Stars and spires, Rainbow, I was still in the hospital!”
“Yeah, sure, but you could’ve figured something out!” Rainbow found herself pacing back and forth. “They could’ve found a way to get you there and back.”
“I don’t—”
“Seriously, how could you not go? You coulda got a wheelchair or that carriage of yours or, or something. I mean yeah, maybe it’s hard, but come on! You’re supposed to be her friend! That’s what friends do. It’s not right.”
“If there had been any way to—”
“But there was! You just… you just didn’t care enough to make it happen!”
The door clicked open behind her. “I heard shouting,” came Sunstone’s voice.
Rainbow glanced at his worried expression, then back to Rarity. Her friend was fighting back tears. Rainbow Dash took a step backward. She wasn’t sure where that outburst had come from. “Look, all I’m saying is—”
“I think you’d better go,” Sunstone cut in.
“Just a minute. I—”
“Miss Dash.” The grim determination looked out of place on Sunstone’s normally easygoing face. “You’re upsetting my mom.”
Any other time, Rainbow Dash would have been able to face him down. Right now, she wasn’t sure. “Yeah, okay.” She made her way towards the door. “Hey, Rarity? I’m sorry.” She hurried out without looking back.
Twilight paced before the door of the Sweet Apple Acres farmhouse. She knew she had been avoiding the ponies inside for too long, but that didn’t make facing them now any easier. She raised a hoof to knock, then hesitated. Maybe she should go talk to Rarity first. Yes, that sounded like a great—
The door opened. Twilight found herself looking into the wide eyes of Honey Pie. “P-princess! I wasn’t expecting you! Please, come in. Have a seat. Can I find you anything to drink?”
“It’s fine, Honey Pie. Calm down.” Twilight stepped inside. The house smelled of baking pastry and brown sugar. She saw Honey Pie had put on a light jacket. “Were you heading out? Don’t let me keep you.” There was something else, a queer sensation…
“Oh, it’s nothing that can’t wait, Your Highness. Here, let me get you something to eat. I just finished some lovely tarts.” She hustled off towards the kitchen.
The strange feeling grew weaker as Honey Pie grew distant. It was a tingling in her earth pony senses, but that made no sense. Earth pony senses reacted to life, and she was—
Oh. Oh, wow.
Honey Pie returned with a small apple tart atop one of Granny Smith’s china plates. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need, Princess Sparkle.” She bobbed from hoof to hoof. “Can I ask why you’re here? Is there anypony you’d like me to fetch?”
“You’re pregnant,” said Twilight.
“Oh, dear. Is it showing already?”
“No, it’s… you’re pregnant!” Twilight felt herself grinning like a fool. Princess Celestia had told her, but she hadn’t listened. Life goes on. Celestia hadn’t meant Twilight’s own life. Fluttershy was dead, yes, but soon enough her great-grandchild would come into the world. Twilight couldn’t wait to meet that pony, to watch her learn and grow and have foals of her own. She wanted to help that pony make her way through the world, to be there for the continuation of the story her friends had started. “This is wonderful!”
“Thank you, Princess. We’re very excited.”
The door opened behind her, letting in a gust that made her shiver. “Twilight.” The voice was flat and cold. Rainbow Dash came in from outside, covered in sweat and bits of leaf. “I thought I saw you landing.”
Twilight blinked. She had known she would have to face Rainbow eventually, but she wasn’t expecting to see her now. She wasn’t ready. “Rainbow? What are you doing here?”
Rainbow’s eyes never left Twilight’s. “I live here. This is my home.”
Twilight returned the level stare. Like it or not, this conversation would have to happen now. “Honey Pie, can you give us the room, please?”
“O-of course, Your Highness, at once.” A door slammed, and they were alone.
Twilight broke the silence. “I’m glad you’re living here again. You—”
“I want you to leave.”
“Rainbow, wait. Listen to me, first.”
“Yeah?” Rainbow sneered. “You mean like you listened to me at the library?”
Twilight winced. “I deserve that. I’m not proud of how I acted. I was still figuring out a lot of things, and I took my confusion out on you. I’m sorry.”
Rainbow Dash stepped forward. “You think you can just say sorry and put everything back like it was? You made your choice.”
“I know. We can’t go back to what we had before.” Twilight’s voice rose. “But that doesn’t mean things have to stay like this between us! I know you’re hurting because of what I did, and I want to make things right.”
“I’m hurting?” Rainbow shot her an incredulous look. “You think that’s what matters?”
“Um. Yes?”
“I can’t believe you! You smug, selfish know-it-all!” Rainbow Dash almost managed to steady her trembling legs.
“What did I do now?”
“You mean you don’t even—” Rainbow took a deep breath. “No. No, we’re not doing this.” She turned her back on Twilight and walked deeper into the house.
“Rainbow Dash, wait.” Twilight hurried to follow. “At least tell me what’s going on.”
“Fluttershy is dead and you think the important thing is how I feel!” Rainbow stomped up a flight of old wooden stairs. “What about her? Do you even care?”
“Of course I care,” Twilight said with forced patience. “But she’s dead. She doesn’t feel anything.”
“That’s right! She doesn’t!” Rainbow Dash stopped dead in her tracks. “She could be here right now, helping with the autumn or arguing with Crabapple or whatever, but she isn’t. She won’t ever. She’ll never meet Sprout’s kid. She’s never going to be happy or proud or frustrated, not ever again. She could be happy right now, but, but she isn’t, she isn’t anything, she’s just… she’s just…”
“You don’t know that for sure,” said Twilight. “We could be wrong about what happens when we die. Maybe it doesn’t just end.”
“That’s all you have? So maybe she’s watching us now from somewhere up above, or maybe she’s back as a fluffy bunny or whatever, or maybe the griffons are right and she’s wandering Tartarus forever because we didn’t burn her body, or maybe the thing that used to be my friend is rotting in a box in the ground. If that’s the best you’ve got, then we have nothing to talk about.” She turned to face Twilight. “Every day, for the rest of forever, you’re going to wake up to a world that doesn’t have Fluttershy in it. Every day, I want you to remember that it’s your fault.”
Twilight fought back the burning sensation behind her eyes. “She was my friend, too,” she said.
“She was my family.” Rainbow stalked forward, forcing Twilight back down the stairs. “I shared her house. I raised her kids. Don’t you pretend to understand that.”
“What, you think you’re the only one who knows what family is?” Twilight stood her ground. Rainbow bumped into her, then stood glowering from her higher perch. “I had a brother. Or are you going to tell me that you’re different because of the foals?”
“You’re trotting right I am.” Rainbow’s breath was hot on Twilight’s face.
“That’s a load of fodder! You’re not a mom, Rainbow Dash!”
Rainbow’s face darkened. “The point is that I have ponies I care about. All you have is Princess Celestia, and you’d rather watch every one of us die than ruffle one feather on her wing. That’s not a family. That’s some kind of messed-up obsession.”
“That’s not fair,” said Twilight. “I never—”
“Fair?” said Rainbow. “Fair?” She reared up and spread her wings. “Little miss immortal princess goddess wants to talk about FAIR? Is that why you came here, to tell me how unfair it is, being young forever?”
“You—”
“I want you to leave. Now.”
“Just—”
“Leave!”
Twilight Sparkle left.
“Good evening, my jewel.” Center Stage swept into his wife’s makeshift bedroom. “You had a relaxing day, I trust?”
“Yes. Relaxing.” There was only a trace of bitterness in Rarity’s voice. As she turned her head towards Center Stage, the light around her horn flickered out and the novel she had been reading dropped against her pillow. “That’s one way of putting it. I’ve been looking at these four walls all week. And yourself?”
“Just the opposite. I’ve had enough excitement for two ponies, today.” Center Stage sat at the foot of Rarity’s chaise longue. “You remember Searchlight, from our production of Dray Miserables? She’s back, and she’s up to her old tricks.”
“Oh?” Rarity settled in to listen. “You’ve certainly been having an eventful time.”
“I know! If you figure out a way for us to trade places for a bit, let me know. I could use a break.” In truth, Center Stage had been dramatizing all of his life’s minor gossip. Now that Rarity was too weak even to see customers, she had little enough contact with the world outside their house. He tried to give her some vicarious excitement, at least. Rarity could tell what he was doing, he was sure, but as long as they both pretended, it would help keep her from going stir-crazy.
Center Stage launched into his tale. Before he was too far along, however, his eyes fell on the end table beside Rarity’s pillow. On it, a perfect china dish held a simple hay sandwich. It lay exactly where Center Stage had placed in the morning.
He paused. “Have you eaten anything today?”
“I don’t know,” said Rarity. “Probably. I’m not hungry, at any rate. Please, continue.”
“No, wait. If you’re even turning down my masterful cuisine, then we have a problem. Really, when was the last time you ate anything?”
Rarity pondered. “I believe it was last evening, when Shepherd brought over those lovely tarts.”
“That was two days ago.” Center Stage stood up. “I’m worried, my jewel.”
“It’s no trouble. I’m not hungry, really.”
“That’s what worries me.” He found himself pacing. “We need to get you to the hospital.”
“So soon?” Rarity pouted. “But I just left.”
“Hey, you wanted to get out of the house, right?” He forced a grin. “I’ll be right back with some help. Don’t go anywhere.”
In the weeks since her homecoming, Rainbow Dash had fallen back into the familiar rhythm of the farm. There was always work to be done, and she found herself helping with a zeal that would have horrified her younger self. Now, with the harvest finished and the last of the leaves removed, it was time for winter.
Rainbow Dash was spreading frost. She made her way across the fields with a pony-sized cloud in tow, molding the cloudstuff into frozen crystals which she scattered across the ground and the trees. It was easy work, if tedious, and Rainbow had always insisted on doing it alone. It gave her time to think. She needed that now. Today would have been Applejack’s birthday.
In the months since Applejack’s death, Rainbow had been unable to think of her without feeling as though her heart had been ripped out through her chest. Now, though, her pain was… not gone, but different. Her mad grief had spent itself, leaving behind a wistful nostalgia. For the first time, sorrow was tinged with happy memories of the time they had shared. It made her feel strange, and a little unfaithful.
The sound of hoofbeats snapped her out of her reverie. Rainbow Dash turned to see the last pony she expected to find here. The Princess of the Sun approached, free of her crown and regalia, her breath steaming in the chill.
“Princess.” Rainbow Dash didn’t pause in her work. She had lost most of her reverence for Equestria’s ruler.
“I’d like to talk,” said Celestia.
Rainbow glanced up. “Yeah? Why? Did Twilight ask you to?” She turned back to her cloud and kicked it, knocking loose a puff of vapor, which she grabbed and began kneading with her forehooves.
“No. She doesn’t need to. I know her too well. That, and Sunstone’s last friendship report made some things very clear. I’m worried about where this path will take you.”
“Look, Princess, this isn’t gonna work. I guess thanks for coming, but I know what you’re gonna say and Twilight already tried it.”
Celestia’s smile was bittersweet. “You think you’re angry with me.”
Rainbow Dash stepped forward. “Of course I’m angry with you!”
“Just like you were angry with Rarity?”
Rainbow stopped her advance and half-turned away.
“That wasn’t the only time you snapped at somepony who didn’t deserve it, I’ll bet.”
She had nothing to say to that.
“You weren’t angry at Rarity then,” said Celestia. “You’re not angry at me now. You’re just angry. I understand and I don’t blame you, but you’re taking it out on other ponies. You know better than that, Rainbow Dash.”
“So, what? I’m just supposed to sit back when my friends die?”
“Grief is never easy, but there are good ways to handle it and this isn’t one of them. If you’re honest with yourself, I don’t think there’s a single pony who you’re truly angry at.”
“There is, though.” Rainbow’s face darkened. “Twilight Sparkle.”
“I suspect you told her as much, and none too gently.”
Rainbow nodded. “She deserved everything I gave her and more.”
“And did lashing out at her make you feel better?”
“Honestly? Yeah. It kinda did.”
“That surprises me. You’ve always been so loyal to your friends.”
“I guess that’s the difference between me and Twilight,” said Rainbow Dash. “When it came down to it, I chose loyalty to my friends, and she chose loyalty to you.”
“This doesn’t have to be a competition. Why are you making it into one?”
“I don’t think I did,” Rainbow Dash said slowly. “I think that was Twilight.”
“Look where this approach has brought you. Whatever you think you feel towards Twilight, I know you don’t want to hurt Rarity. I’m even more worried about what you’ll do to yourself, if you keep this up. No matter how much you tear yourself apart, you won’t help Fluttershy.”
Rainbow Dash opened her hooves. A forgotten puff of frost spilled out and drifted to earth. “Twilight could’ve helped her, though. You could’ve.”
“I don’t want to have that argument with you. Like you told me, Twilight already said everything there is to say. You don’t have to agree with me, but I like to think I’ve earned your trust. Can’t you trust that I’m doing this for good reasons?”
“I want to.” Rainbow Dash leaned against her cloud. “I’m so tired of being angry, you know?”
“So stop.”
“What, just like that?”
“That’s up to you. You can work towards it, but you have to mean it. When you’re ready, talk to me or Twilight. I know you’ve hurt each other, but your friendship is strong. You can repair it, but only if you want to.”
Twilight Sparkle led the way down a tunnel made of solid crystal. Her horn’s glow spread across the violet floor and walls, creating whorls and eddies of light that shifted with her every step. It was unlike anything Golden Apple had seen. She tried and failed to keep from gawking at the splendor that surrounded her. “Oh, my,” she said. “This place is absolutely stunning.” She kept her voice low—it felt only right, in a place like this.
“Isn’t it?” said Twilight. “Every time I come here, I can barely believe it’s real.”
For a while, they walked in silence, save for the sound of hooves on the polished amethyst floor and a distant rushing sound. Despite the beauty, Golden Apple couldn’t shake a vague sense of unease. Right after the wedding, Twilight had made a big show of friendship. Then, at Ma’s funeral, she had been aloof in a way that reminded Golden Apple of Princess Celestia. She hadn’t seen Twilight at all in the weeks since then. She had no idea what to expect, now.
“However did you find these caves?” Golden Apple said to break the silence. “Was it part of one of your adventures?”
“Yeah. It was at my brother’s wedding, during the first changeling attack.” Twilight had a faraway look in her eyes. “I’ve been back a few times. The most recent was when your mom and I settled the dispute between the Diamond Dogs and the Emperor Mole.”
“Ma was down here, too? I never even knew this existed, until you teleported us.”
“It’s a special place. Celestia keeps it a bit of a secret,” said Twilight. “It’s easy to get lost down here if you don’t know the way. It even connects to the Undercaverns.” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the rushing noise.
“Ah.” Golden Apple paused. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask. What is that noise?”
Twilight grinned. “Come see.” She ducked down a side tunnel that opened into a wide, low cavern. Golden Apple followed, then stopped, frozen to the spot.
A narrow river had carved its path through the cavern floor, but instead of water, gleaming jewels coursed along its length. Hoof-sized emeralds, topazes as big as her eye, sapphires no larger than pebbles, all flowed faster than a pony could walk before disappearing around a bend in the gemstone wall. The tumbling stones glowed with inner fire, casting a whirling kaleidoscope of color over every surface.
“Oh,” Golden Apple managed at last. “Oh, my.”
“I know, right?” Twilight Sparkle walked along the riverbank. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my time, but nothing quite like this. I haven’t made time to come here in years.”
Golden Apple reached into the stream and caught an apple-sized diamond between her hooves. It was remarkably cold to the touch, and slicker than she expected. “Why now?” she asked. “That is, if it’s been so long…”
“I was kind of in a dark place for a while.” Twilight dipped a hoof into the river. Jewels flowed around her leg, sending ripples outward. “I needed to remember how much beauty there is in the world. After your mom died…”
“I do miss her, Twilight, but it was her time.”
“Can we not?” Twilight said quickly. “I mean, thank you—and let me point out in passing how weird it is that you’re comforting me about your mom—I do appreciate it—but let’s not do this just now, okay? Please?”
“Okay.” The diamond slipped from Golden Apple’s grasp, leaving a thin film of water on her hooves as it clattered to the cavern floor. “Hold on. Is this thing melting?”
“Of course,” said Twilight. “They’re ice crystals. Without the stream’s magic, they don’t last long.”
“Oh. Ice crystals. Of course.” Golden Apple poked at the strange jewel.
“How are your kids?”
Golden Apple looked up at that. “Well enough. Apple Bough just made the varsity polo team, and she couldn’t be more proud. Apple Breeze is having a bit of a tougher time. Filly problems, I think, but he won’t talk about it with me.”
“How old is he now? Twelve?”
“Fourteen.”
“Already? Stars and storms.” Twilight laughed softly. “Who let that happen? It doesn’t seem so long since you were that age.”
Golden Apple chuckled. “Listen to yourself. You sound like a grandmother.”
“I feel like a grandmother. I get to watch all these kids growing up around me. Only it’s better, because I’ll get to see their whole lives, and their kids… I don’t know whether I feel old or young.”
They lay in the twisting light of the gems. Golden Apple gazed at the shimmering river, unable to tear her eyes away. It was some time before she spoke again.
“Why did you take me here?” she asked. “Not that I’m ungrateful, mind you, but I have to wonder.”
“Because I can,” said Twilight. “Because there’s not much point in coming here if I can’t share it. And because you’re my friend.”
“No,” said Sunstone. “No, there has to be something we can do.”
“Sunstone, please,” Rarity said from her hospital bed. “Don’t do this to yourself. The doctors said they don’t even know what’s wrong with me.”
Rainbow Dash was pacing back and forth across the tiled floor. “So, what, that’s it, then?” she said. “You’re just gonna give up?”
“I’m not giving up.” Rarity’s voice was quiet and hoarse, but there was still passion behind her words. “I’m trying to accept what’s coming. It’s been four days since I’ve even been able to keep down food.”
“Yeah.” Rainbow Dash stopped next to the bed, sagging slightly. “I get it. If there were anything to do, we’d do it, but there’s not.”
Sunstone shook his head. “The doctors haven’t given up.” He started pacing where Rainbow left off.
“My body’s all but coming apart at the seams,” said Rarity. “Even if they figure something out, I doubt if I have very long.”
“So how are you dealing with everything?” said Rainbow. “Looks like you’re keeping together pretty well.”
Rarity smiled a brittle smile. “I’m terrified. I try not to be, but I think the most I can do is take this gracefully.”
A hoof knocked on the door. “Rarity?” came a soft voice. Rainbow stiffened. “Are you awake?”
“Come in, Twilight,” said Rarity. The door swung open. Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash locked eyes for half a heartbeat before both of them looked away.
Twilight hesitated, then went to Rarity’s beside. “Um,” she said. “Hi.”
“I’m so glad you came, darling.”
Twilight looked down at her friend. Rarity looked even more brittle and withered than she had before Twilight fled to Canterlot. Her limbs were thin as sticks and all but immobile. There was pain in her eyes, but the light behind them hadn’t dimmed.
“Cadence said she’s going to visit tomorrow,” Twilight said. “I thought you’d want to know. If you want me to help you look your best for the princess…”
“I think the time for such things has passed.” Rarity laughed. Twilight couldn’t tell if there was bitterness under it. “It will be enough to see her. I’m afraid even I can’t do much to make this old body presentable.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way.” Sunstone’s voice was barely above a whisper as he turned to Twilight. “You said you could save her life.”
Twilight looked at him in surprise. “I thought you agreed it was her time.” Rainbow Dash was studying the walls intently, she noticed.
“You think I care about that now?” Sunstone advanced on her. “My mom is dying and you can help her! How can anything else matter?”
“Sunstone, please,” said Rarity. “The princesses have already decided. I’m sure they know best.”
Twilight nodded. “I’m afraid she’s right. The consequences would be dire.”
“You’re supposed to be her friend!” Sunstone was shouting, now. Twilight forced herself not to shrink away. “Do something!”
“Hey.” Rainbow Dash draped a wing over Sunstone. “It’s no good. She won’t listen.”
“But,” Sunstone sputtered, “but, but…”
“Come on, kiddo. Let’s get some air.” Gently, Rainbow Dash guided him towards the exit. He looked dazed as he let himself be led away. Rainbow nudged him through the door, then turned and looked back. Her gaze wasn’t accusing, wasn’t angry. It was just sad. Somehow, that was even worse.
“I have to let this take its course,” said Twilight. “Just listen for once.”
Rainbow Dash held her gaze until Twilight looked away, then shut the door, leaving Twilight alone with Rarity.
Twilight exhaled sharply. “I wish you didn’t have to see that. Not now.”
“Don’t blame Sunstone,” said Rarity. “He’s having a difficult time.”
Twilight smiled ruefully. “I know what that’s like. It’s okay. He’s a good kid.”
Rarity laid a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder, wincing as she forced her swollen joints to bend. “Twilight Sparkle, you were a truly fabulous friend. I’m so pleased to have known you.”
Twilight covered Rarity’s hoof with her own. “You mean so much to me. I’m going to miss you.” She swallowed. “I never know what to say at times like this.”
“Say you’ll remember me fondly. They say you’re not really dead as long as somepony remembers you. I’d like to live forever, through you.”
“Of course I will.” Twilight’s friends had molded her into the pony Celestia had chosen for the highest honor in the world. She would never be able to forget any of them. “I wish I could make you live forever for real. I wish I could keep you by my side.”
“So do I. It would be such fun to stay. There’s so much more I could still do, so many things left to see, and I could watch what becomes of Sunstone…” She sighed wistfully. “Still, this is how it goes. Lots of ponies have lived and died and it seemed to work well enough for them, on the whole.”
Twilight looked away. “A couple months ago, you said that if our positions were reversed, you would’ve made me immortal.”
Rarity frowned. “Are you second-guessing yourself?”
Twilight bit her lip. “A little.”
“Don’t. What’s happening isn’t your fault. It’s just part of life.”
“Technically, it’s exactly the opposite.”
“You know what I mean,” said Rarity. “It’s acceptable, is what I’m trying to say.”
Despite the brave words, Twilight could see fear in her friend’s face. “You really think that?” she asked. “Even now?”
Rarity nodded. “No matter what I want, it’s not worth going against Princess Celestia. I know how much her esteem means to you. It’s what you’ve always wanted, and you’ve worked so hard to earn it. I wouldn’t take that away from you, not for anything in the world.”
Twilight blinked. “You’d give up your life for me.”
“Stars and sapphires, it’s not as though I’m jumping in front of a train!”
“Still. I get to live forever and you don’t because you’re more giving than I am?”
“Maybe that’s why she chose you and not me. Because you can see the big picture, and I can only see ponies.”
“Ponies,” Twilight echoed. “That’s all there is, isn’t there? Equestria is just ponies.”
Life goes on, Celestia had told her, but for whom? Certainly for herself. Certainly not for Rarity. Had Celestia meant ponies like Honey Pie and Apple Sprout and their unborn child? What was Equestria, if not them and ponies like them? Their lives would go on, true, but only for a time. Would Equestria be better off for their loss? Twilight couldn’t bring herself to believe that, not while she was here, at her friend’s deathbed.
“Twilight?” Rarity was watching her face nervously. “Are you quite well?”
“You’re right,” Twilight said. “It’s only ponies. There’s no special ingredient that turns a bunch of ponies into a bigger whole. Equestria is nothing but individual ponies.” She couldn’t help Equestria by sacrificing Equestrians. The idea didn’t even make sense.
“What are you saying?”
Twilight felt her jaw clench. “Close your eyes,” she said. “Take slow, deep breaths. Focus on your magic, but don’t gather any power. Turn your mind inwards. This is going to be about exploration, not force.” As she spoke, Twilight gripped the fabric of the world and began weaving a mind-merge spell. “I’ll be there to guide you.”
Rarity gaped. “Twilight, I… you know I don’t want to die, but this is bigger than I am! Doing the right thing is more important. Think about what you’re doing!”
“I am. This is right.” Images swam through her mind’s eye. Twilight saw Applejack chase Rainbow Dash through a storm of scarlet leaves. She saw a kite, pulled from her grasp by the wind, only for her brother to catch it. She saw Fluttershy holding a tiny, squalling Crabapple.
She saw herself a thousand years old, sculpting the sky with easy familiarity. She saw Rarity at her side, watching in silent appreciation. She saw Princess Celestia—
No. Not now. The important thing now was Rarity. Twilight banished the phantoms from her mind. “Close your eyes and focus,” she said in a voice hard as granite, “before I change my mind.”
“Auntie Dash? You’d better come outside.” Apple Sprout’s voice had a strange quaver to it.
“Yeah?” said Rainbow. “What is it?”
“Rarity’s here to see you.”
Rainbow Dash raised an eyebrow. “What’s she doing out of the hospital?”
Apple Sprout opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Fine, be that way.” She brushed past Apple Sprout and made her way out of the farmhouse.
What she saw outside took her breath away. Rarity was galloping among the leafless apple trees on lithe, muscular legs that shone whiter than the thin crust of snow beneath her hooves. She wore an expression of gleeful abandon that Rainbow Dash hadn’t seen on her face since, well, ever. A pair of marmoreal wings were tucked neatly against her sides.
Rainbow squealed with joy and darted out to meet her. Rarity turned towards her and let out a whoop. Her gait was shaky from disuse, but put she on a burst of speed regardless.
As they came together, Rainbow Dash leaped forward and threw a wild embrace around her friend. Rarity lost her tenuous balance, and the two of them tumbled to the ground. Rainbow Dash clutched Rarity with all her might and buried her face in her shoulder, laughing until tears ran down her face. The two of them rolled in the half-frozen grass, shrieking and giggling like foals. It was several minutes before they disentangled. Rainbow picked herself up carefully while Rarity bounced to her hooves. Her radiant coat was streaked with dirt and snow, but for once Rarity didn’t seem to care.
“Wow,” Rainbow Dash managed. “You look… wow.” Rarity’s body could have belonged to an athlete. Her horn was longer and finer, yet it somehow seemed more solid, more real, than ever before. And those wings. Sun and Moon, those wings. They were graceful, powerful, sleek… even during her prime, Rainbow Dash would have done anything for wings like those.
“I know!” said Rarity. “Did you see me run? Stars and fishes, I can run!”
“Running’s alright.” Rainbow Dash grinned. “Have you tried flying?”
“Teach me how!” Rarity hopped from hoof to hoof. “Show me show me show me!”
“There’s nothing to teach! You just flap your wings and, y’know, fly.”
The words had barely left her mouth before Rarity was off, hooves kicking up snow as she picked up speed. She spread her wings and leaped for the sky.
Her flight was short-lived. She beat her wings once, but that only sent her into a wild roll. Moments later, Rarity crashed shoulder-first into the earth.
Rainbow rushed to her side. “Whoa! You okay, there?”
“Yes! I’m okay!” Rarity laughed aloud. “I fell down but I’m okay!”
“Flying takes some getting used to,” said Twilight. Rainbow Dash did a double-take; she had been so focused on Rarity, she hadn’t even noticed Twilight. “It’ll come to you soon enough. It did for me.”
“Oh,” said Rainbow. “Hi.”
The two of them faced each other. Rainbow started to speak, then cut herself off. Twilight’s gaze flicked between Rainbow Dash’s face and her hooves. Finally Rainbow broke the silence. “Thank you,” she said.
“You’re up next,” said Twilight.
Rainbow Dash was taken aback. “You’re sure?”
“Well, that’s why we came here right after Carousel Boutique. But if you’re having second thoughts—”
“No way!” said Rainbow. “I’m just surprised. I thought, even if you did this, you’d be taking it slow, right?”
Twilight sighed. “There’d be no point. If I’m wrong about this, it’s way too late to turn back.”
“You’re not wrong,” said Rainbow Dash. “C’mon, Twilight, just look at her.”
Rarity stood and shook herself, throwing off a shower of ice and dirt. “I’ll warn you, the transformation is no easy task. We were at it for quite some time.”
Twilight nodded. “Nineteen hours, to be precise. Six Elements is a lot for one pony to handle.”
“Well then,” said Rainbow Dash, “I guess we’d better get started.”
Minutes later, Twilight Sparkle stood by the side of Rainbow’s bed. The door was firmly shut, and Rarity stood watch outside to make sure none of the Apples disturbed them. Rainbow Dash lay flat with her forelegs dangling over the side of the bed. Twilight searched for a way to break the silence and found nothing.
“I gotta ask,” said Rainbow, “why do this for me? I’m super glad, don’t get me wrong. I just thought you’d be pretty mad at me.”
“Well, I am,” said Twilight. “I reached out to you over and over, and every time you just used it as a chance to take another shot at me. When we have time, I plan to spend a while being very loud and telling you what an awful pony you are. I just don’t hate you enough to want you, y’know, dead.”
Rainbow nodded. “I get that. For what it’s worth, thanks.”
Twilight didn’t want to think about this. “Let’s just focus on our task, now, alright? Close your eyes and breathe deeply.” When she did, Twilight went on. “Try to stay relaxed. We don’t have six Bearers, so I’ll need your mind to be especially stable. Center your mind on your pegasus magic, the part you use to manipulate weather.”
Rainbow’s wings twitched once, then again. “I’m focused,” she said. “Now what?”
“Now I use the mind-merge spell. That will create the channel between us. I’ll use that to hit you with the Elements’ power, like you did for me, way back when. Then you have to… well, you’ll see.” Twilight had never told a soul about the dialogue, or perhaps the visions, that had accompanied her transformation. “I don’t know how much I can help with that part. Are you ready?”
A grin split Rainbow Dash’s face. “Ready.”
“Okay,” said Twilight. “Here goes.” She wove together the mind-merge spell, binding her own consciousness to Rainbow Dash’s. She brushed the shell of the other pony’s mind—a taut, flat facade of determination and hope—and plunged beneath.
Twilight reeled back. Immersing herself in the contempt broiling beneath the surface of Rainbow’s mind was like plunging into a pool of lukewarm mud. She nearly broke the connection on sheer reflex, but managed to hang on. Her task was too important to let herself slip. As Twilight reoriented herself, she realized that she was herself the target of Rainbow Dash’s disgust. She had known Rainbow was unhappy with her, but the depths of it… Twilight had never hated another pony half that much in her life.
Twilight tried to put that out of her mind. She had a job to do. She focused on each Element in turn, drawing forth its power and holding it firmly in reserve. Summoning Magic was as easy as breathing. Generosity was more difficult, and she had to keep both Elements active while she focused on summoning Kindness. Some hours later, when she came to Loyalty, she felt Rainbow Dash following her every thought. She also felt Rainbow’s barely-repressed contempt still spilling through. Twilight had learned the technique of integrating all her emotions into her magic, but that proved useless on assimilating somepony else’s emotions. She sensed Rainbow Dash sensing Twilight’s own discomfort. Rainbow tried not to think about her disgust, but predictably, that only brought it to the front of her mind. Twilight couldn’t stop herself from focusing on Rainbow Dash focusing on Twilight focusing on Rainbow Dash’s rancor. Her control wavered, and she lost the thread of her magic.
Twilight opened her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t do this. The, uh, the way you feel about me is too distracting. You’ll have to get Rarity to do it, I guess.”
“I get it,” Rainbow said. Sweat beaded her face. “If I were you, I guess I wouldn’t want to see inside my head either.”
Twilight swallowed. “I had no idea you felt so… heated.”
Rainbow Dash looked at everything except Twilight. “Look, I want to be nice to you right now. You just saved Rarity, and you tried to save me. That’s important. Like, real important. But if you’re already reading my mind, then yeah. You killed Fluttershy. Maybe I don’t think about that all the time, and I’m trying not to right now, but it’s there. It’s not going away. I don’t think I want it to, either.” From what she saw of Rainbow’s face, Twilight was glad she wasn’t looking her in the eyes.
Twilight changed the subject. “It might take longer, with Rarity casting the spell instead of me, but she should be capable of it. She should have the power to draw on all six Elements now, and she’ll have no trouble with the mind-merge spell.”
“Cool.” Rainbow Dash pushed herself into a sitting position. “Thanks for trying, I guess. I’ll ask her tomorrow, once she’s a bit settled in.”
Twilight stood on the frost-covered grass, watching her friends soar overhead. Rarity bobbed and tilted as she followed Rainbow Dash through the air, matching the old pegasus’s speed, if not her grace. Rainbow Dash had insisted on being the one to teach Rarity to fly, and although her tutelage consisted of pure example with no actual instruction to speak of, Rarity seemed to be learning. More importantly, both ponies were having the time of their lives, judging by their shouts and laughter.
A riot of color appeared in Twilight’s peripheral vision as Princess Cadence stepped up to her side. “Oh, Twilight Sparkle.” Her voice was heavy with disappointment. “What have you done?”
“Something I should’ve done a long time ago.” Twilight couldn’t tear her eyes away from her friends’ play. Somehow, she managed to keep her voice level.
“I came to visit Rarity. When the doctors told me what happened, I didn’t want to believe them.”
“I’m sorry,” said Twilight. Then, on second thought, “No, actually, I’m not. Everypony should have this. You can’t look at how happy she is and tell me this was a mistake.”
“This was a mistake!” said Cadence. “Mistake doesn’t begin to cover it! This is the biggest mistake anypony has made in a thousand years. You know better than this, Twilight. You know things aren’t as simple as you want them to be. I have no idea what I’m going to tell Celestia.”
Twilight winced. She had been trying not to think about Celestia. “Please don’t,” she said softly. “She should hear about this from me.”
“Then why haven’t you told her?”
“It’s hard. Please, just give me time. I want to do this the right way. Trust me.”
Cadence dug a rut in the snow with a forehoof. “Your brother would’ve given you a chance. I’m trying to be more like him.” Her face hardened. “But not in this. As much as I want to trust you, you’ve lost that right. We all gave up so much to keep this from happening, and you threw it all away. For his sake, I’ll give you one day, but no more. Come clean to Celestia and accept responsibility for what you’ve done. I’ll tell her tomorrow. If you want to do it yourself, do it before then.”
“Thank you.” Twilight couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Cadence stared at her for long seconds with her mouth half-open. “Sometimes I forget how young you are,” she said. “Celestia will talk sense into you. Don’t do anything crazy before then.” Cadence disappeared in a flash of magic.
Twilight looked up. Her friends had been too engrossed in their acrobatics to notice Cadence’s arrival, it seemed. They were spiraling higher and higher. Twilight tried to go back to watching them, but her thoughts kept turning to Celestia. How would she ever explain this? She had to make Celestia understand. If not… if not…
“Woo! Way to go, Rarity!” Rainbow Dash’s voice was suddenly close. “Twilight! Hey, Twilight!” Rainbow Dash swooped low and hovered before her. “Did you see that?”
“What?” said Twilight. “No, sorry.”
“Aw, man, it was great! Rarity can already dive faster than I can. I mean, she’s faster than me! She’s making this look easy.”
Rarity descended, hovering more or less beside Rainbow Dash. “Looks can be deceiving, darling. I feel as though these new wings are about to fall off.”
“I’m pretty tired too,” said Rainbow Dash. “Let’s pick this up tomorrow, after you make me a princess.”
“Wait a minute,” said Sunstone. “Mom’s changing her into a princess?”
Princess Twilight nodded. “They'll be busy for a while. The transformation could take as long as a day, maybe more.”
Center Stage stood speechless. Things were changing so fast, he could hardly keep up. He still found it hard to believe his wife was a princess. A princess was supposed to be a distant paragon of wisdom and grace, not a pony who pretended to like his cooking and snored like a sawmill.
“Okay,” said Sunstone. “She’s changing Miss Dash into a princess?”
“Yes.” Twilight’s brow creased. “Is that a problem?”
“Well,” said Center Stage, “she doesn’t seem like the princess type. I can’t quite picture her wearing a tiara and holding court.”
Twilight shook her head. “That’s not the point. This is about immortality. I want to make sure she doesn’t die, and that’s all.”
“All?” said Center Stage. “The eternal youth seems pretty good too.”
“You know what I mean. This is about the physical and magical transformation, not her social position. And because of that, I don’t plan on stopping with Rainbow Dash. I’ll transform anypony who wants it. Starting with you two.”
Center Stage’s brain tried to process that, and failed completely.
“What,” said Sunstone.
“You heard me. You’ll be like Rarity and me. You can live forever, and so can the rest of Ponyville. The rest of Equestria.”
Sunstone looked puzzled. “What made Princess Celestia change her mind about that?”
“Um.” Twilight rubbed the back of her neck. “I may not be doing this with her blessing, exactly.”
Sunstone blanched. “You didn’t.”
“I did! I had to! I thought you wanted me to do this.”
“I guess,” said Sunstone. “I don’t know! I’m glad you saved Mom. But… every pony, everywhere? That’s going too far.”
“Why? Everypony is somepony’s mom or son or sister or something. How can it be right for Rarity but wrong for others?”
Sunstone paused to think. “It feels like it should only be for special ponies. Mom was one thing. She’s the Element of Generosity. Me, though? I’m just a regular pony.”
“Huh,” said Center Stage. “For some reason, I never thought you as just a regular pony.”
Twilight sighed. “I don’t want to force you to do anything. The option’s there if you want to take it.”
“Well,” said Center Stage, “I just might.”
“Dad!” Sunstone shot him a sharp look.
“Hey, it’s worth thinking about, at least,” said Center Stage. “It’s not every day you get an offer like this.”
Rainbow Dash lay on the chaise longue in Rarity’s parlour. The cushions were uncomfortably soft, and the room still had an antiseptic hospital smell to it. Rainbow remembered how weak Rarity had been, the last time they had met in this room.
“So what’s it like, turning into a princess?” Rainbow asked. “Twilight told me what happens, kinda, but she didn’t say how it feels.”
“It’s hard to put into words.” Rarity didn’t stop pacing as she spoke. Rainbow hadn’t seen her stand still for more than a minute or two since her transformation. “Getting there takes a lot of hard work, but once the transformation happens, it just feels right. The process was long and frustrating, however. You’ll have to keep your mind still while I weave the spell around you.” With Rarity’s family and Twilight outside, the two of them were alone in the overdecorated parlour.
Rainbow Dash nodded. “So you can use that spell, now that you’re all princessed up?”
“That and more. Magic was never my strong suit, but today I believe I could outmatch any unicorn. Now, if you’ll permit me?”
“Yeah. Let’s get this done.”
A bright aura popped into being around Rarity’s horn. For the second time in two days, Rainbow Dash felt another mind join hers. Rarity’s thoughts and emotions were as accessible as her own, to the point where it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. Twilight’s mind had been a tangled knot of nervous determination, but Rarity was a sparkling field of joy, still reveling in her sudden vigor.
Rarity turned her thoughts inward and meditated. Rainbow Dash wouldn’t have imagined Rarity to have such powerful focus, but her skill was impressive. Rainbow followed her mental example. Such competent meditation would normally have been beyond her, but by copying the techniques she felt Rarity using, Rainbow was able to keep up. Some time later—whether minutes or hours she couldn’t say—Rainbow Dash felt herself in a state of calm, focused awareness.
“Well done. That’s the first step.” It took Rainbow a moment to realize she was hearing Rarity’s actual voice. The words came half a heartbeat after the concepts formed in her head. “Now focus on your weather magic. You’ll use it as a tether to keep your soul still. I’ll show you how.”
Rainbow Dash felt Rarity’s focus shift to her wings and tried to follow suit. It proved difficult; Rarity grasped her own magic with an ease and strength that Rainbow had never realized was possible. Despite a lifetime of experience with her innate magic, Rainbow Dash felt like a novice by comparison. It took several tries, but eventually Rainbow achieved a degree of focus that Rarity must have found acceptable, for she felt a wave of approval through their connected minds.
Rarity’s mind slipped deeper, following her magic to blaze a trail into the depths of her subconscious. Rainbow Dash concentrated on maintaining her own state. Rarity was deep in her trance, sending her mind through arcane patterns that made no sense to Rainbow Dash.
After an unknowable amount of time, there was a surge of unfamiliar power. A second surge followed some time later, this one subtly different. The third surge she recognized as pure primordial Loyalty. They were coming closer, now. Four, five, and finally six. A wave of bright shining wholeness crashed towards her, rushing through the channel from Rarity’s mind. It washed over her, tumbled her upside down, sent her spinning through her subconscious, and then…
Rainbow Dash found herself facing two copies of herself, one an earth pony, the other a unicorn. She wasn’t certain where she was. Perhaps it was a rumbling train car, or a starlit orchard, or maybe a bank of clouds. Somehow it didn’t seem important.
“So, what,” said Rainbow Dash, “are we supposed to magic ourselves into one pony now?”
“I dunno,” said Unicorn Rainbow Dash. “I’m not sure I want to be part of you.”
“Huh?”
“Well, we’re supposed to be Loyalty, right? But you’ve been nothing but trouble for Twilight lately. That’s not what I want to be.”
“Hey,” said Rainbow Dash, “I’ve been as nice to her as I can, since she princessed Rarity.”
“Yeah, maybe,” said Unicorn Rainbow Dash. “That’s just tolerance, though. That’s not love. That’s not friendship.”
“Oh, come on,” said Earth Pony Rainbow Dash. “Loyalty doesn’t mean being nice to everypony ever. It means staying true to ponies who deserve it. Twilight gave that up when she killed Fluttershy. I’d rather we stay loyal to Fluttershy.” She stomped a hoof. “Twilight earned what we gave her.”
“Fluttershy’s dead, though,” said Unicorn Rainbow Dash. “There isn’t anypony to be loyal to. Twilight’s still around.”
“So?” said Earth Dash. “We still have to stay loyal to what Fluttershy was. That doesn’t include buddying up to the pony who made her die.”
“Whoa there,” said Rainbow Dash. “I’m mad at Twilight, but I dunno if that’s loyalty talking. Fluttershy told me—told us—me—whatever, she said not to get mad at Twilight. Maybe she was wrong, but that’s what she wanted.”
Earth Dash shrugged. “Fluttershy never looked out for herself enough. The way I see it, that just makes it more important that we stay loyal to her. I mean, she wasn’t gonna do that for herself, so somepony’s gotta.”
“Well, what about Rarity?” said Unicorn Dash. “Doesn’t it matter that Twilight made her immortal? I don’t know if anything can make up for letting Fluttershy die, but saving Rarity comes close.”
“Hold it,” said Dash. She was thoroughly confused by now. “How am I supposed to combine with both of you if you’re telling me opposite things?”
Unicorn Dash shrugged. “Dunno. I’m you, remember? I don’t know anything you don’t.”
“Yeah,” said Earth Dash. “Maybe you’re supposed to pick which one of us is right.”
“No.” Dash paced before her counterparts. “You’re both right, kinda. I can’t leave Twilight behind. Maybe I hate her, but I guess she’s still my friend. No way I could hate her this much if she weren’t. If I ditch my friends when things get tough, then I’m no better than Twilight. I have to stay faithful to Fluttershy too, it doesn’t matter if she’s dead. That’s obvious. I just don’t know how.”
“Well,” said Earth Dash, “what would Fluttershy want, if she were here? That’s about as good as we’re gonna do.”
“She wouldn’t want me to take revenge. That’s pretty much the opposite of what Fluttershy was about. If I’m gonna stay loyal to what Fluttershy was, that means I gotta focus on kindness. And I guess that means I even have to forgive Twilight for what she did.”
“Whoa whoa whoa!” said Earth Dash. “Let’s not go crazy. There’s no excuse for what she did. I mean, killing Fluttershy? Forgiving that is… is… it’s impossible!”
“So?” said Dash. “I do impossible things all the time.”
“It wouldn’t be forgiving her if she hadn’t done something unforgivable,” said Unicorn Dash. “That’s what forgiveness is.”
“Yeah.” Rainbow Dash set her jaw. “What’s right for Fluttershy is also what’s right for Twilight, so that’s what we’re gonna do.” She felt a queer sensation in the back of her mind, like a harmonious pressure growing stronger and stronger.
“Okay,” said Unicorn Dash. “But out of curiosity, is this what’s right for us?”
The other two shot her twin looks of incredulity. “Who cares?” said Earth Dash.
“There’s no difference,” said Dash.
“Yeah.” Unicorn Dash nodded. “Okay, yeah.”
They looked at each other. “So, uh.” Earth Dash pawed at the ground. “That’s settled. How do we do this soul-merge thing?”
“I feel kinda funny, actually,” said Rainbow Dash. “I think maybe we just did.”
The pressure in her head reached a crescendo. There was a surge of rightness and peace, and then she was looking through three sets of eyes. “Whoa,” her three bodies said in unison. “Weird.” Rainbow Dash stretched her pegasus body’s wings, watching the movement from her other two perspectives.
The three Rainbow Dashes edged closer together until they were close enough to touch. Pegasus Dash laid a hoof on Unicorn Dash’s shoulder. A jolt ran through her from her tail to the tips of her wings. Somehow she had never noticed the magic in the world all around her, but now it was so obvious. She closed her eyes. Magic hung in the air like mist, it covered the ground like moss, it suffused her body and gathered around the base of her horn.
Wait. Horn?
Earth Dash stepped forward and touched Pegasus Dash. She felt stable, dense, powerful. She felt her heart pumping, her blood flowing, her liver working. She felt every part of herself acting in harmony to keep the whole alive.
When Rainbow Dash opened her eyes, Rarity was beaming down at her. “Congratulations, darling.”
Twilight was in the storefront of the boutique, admiring Sunstone’s designs. Before long, Rainbow Dash’s transformation would be complete, and the three of them would have to figure out what to do. Until then, though, she could stop thinking about how to steer Equestria’s fate. Until then, she could just be a pony looking at pretty things.
Rarity pranced into the room. “Guess what, Twilight! We’re finished!”
“That’s impossible,” Twilight said. “You’ve only been in there for three hours.”
Rainbow Dash followed her in, bearing a six-colored horn. “What do I keep telling you ponies about impossible things?” Her body had regained the sheen and grace of youth, but kept the strength and bulk that decades of farm work had given her.
“What? But how?” said Twilight. Rarity’s transformation had taken a whole day, Twilight’s nearly as long. Twilight wasn’t jealous, she was just confused. Okay, maybe a little jealous.
“I don’t know,” said Rarity. “I was doing what you showed me, and it was so much clearer than before, as if something were leading me. It was… oh, this is going to sound silly. It reminded me of when I got my cutie mark.”
“That could be it,” said Twilight. “I don’t fully understand alicorn special talents, but they’re powerful. Maybe yours is making other alicorns.”
Rainbow Dash gave Rarity a friendly nudge. “Hah! Not bad for generosity.”
There was a booming knock at the front door. Before Rarity could reach it, the door flew open. Princess Celestia stalked in with fury blazing across her face. “Twilight Sparkle! What is the meaning of this?” Her coat shimmered with white-hot light, and smoke rose from her throat with every word. At her side came Princess Luna, cold and unsmiling.
Twilight’s mouth worked soundlessly. She felt as if her insides were trying to crawl out through her throat. Finally she found her voice. “P-Princess Celestia! I meant to tell you, really I did. I, um, I had to do this.”
“I never expected such weakness from you.”
“This isn’t weakness! This is exactly what I meant to do. I remember everything you said to me, before. I know you don’t think my friends can handle this. You, you...” Twilight hesitated. It had been hard enough to consider the thought, but saying it to Celestia’s face went against everything Twilight had ever been. She said it anyway. “You’re wrong.”
Celestia’s mouth was a taut line. “I thought you had more respect for my teachings than that.”
“You were the best teacher I could’ve asked for. I’ve never done anything but try to live up to that. You taught me that friendship is the most important thing in the world, that I should always be there for my friends no matter what.” Twilight’s voice was soft and tremulous. “I remember when the Crystal Empire reappeared. You taught me that doing the right thing is more important than doing what I’m told.” She faltered, but recovered quickly. “More important than whether you love me.”
“You learned the wrong lesson,” said Celestia. “That test was meant to show you the importance of self-sacrifice. I thought you understood, but it seems there are still sacrifices you won’t make, even to protect everyone else.” She let out a sound that was half growl, half sigh. “Maybe I just misinterpreted our relationship. I had always assumed you cared for me as much as I cared for you. Perhaps that was just wishful thinking.”
“That,” said Twilight, “that’s not what this is about. I know you want what's best for Equestria. I do, too. Equestria is nothing except the ponies who live here, and I just want them to keep living. What you said before, about how ponies living forever would make it harder for younger generations to make their mark… it’s not wrong, it’s just less important. Maybe I never would’ve been made Archmage if Mom were still in that position, but I’d be happier if she were still alive. And, and so would she.
“Please listen to me. I know I’m not going to convince the other princesses. Luna’s fixated on what happened to her, and nothing I say will change that. Cadence… well, she refused to transform her own children. I can imagine what that must be like. If I’d done that, I’d never be able to admit it was wrong, not without completely destroying myself.”
Celestia gave a bitter laugh. “You think you can imagine what it’s like to lose a child?”
Realization dawned. “Cadence wasn’t the only princess who had children,” Twilight said slowly. “You were—”
“Be careful, Twilight Sparkle,” said Celestia. “Be very, very careful.”
Twilight froze, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make the situation even worse.
“What wilt thou do now?” If Luna was angry, there was no sign of it. “Surely thou dost not expect to return to Canterlot, after this.”
Twilight looked to Celestia, who confirmed her sister’s words with a nod. “There is no second chance, after what you’ve done. If you had come to me with your doubts… but I would never have told you what you wanted to hear. You acted, instead. And now…” Celestia glowered.
Twilight managed not to retch, although it felt as if the world were swaying beneath her. “I don’t… I guess I’ll have to stay here for a while. There are lots of other ponies I have to transform.”
“No,” said Celestia. White-orange sparks crackled from her mane. “You’ve gone too far already.”
Rainbow Dash stepped forward. “Sorry, Princess, but you can’t stop us.”
“I can.” Celestia’s horn glowed, and the air grew warmer. “I banished my own sister for less. I should do the same to you three.” Twilight sensed reality grow strained as Celestia gathered magic about herself.
Twilight saw Rainbow Dash tense for a fight, but she couldn’t bring herself to follow suit. She wasn’t that far gone. Twilight looked down and tried to brace herself. “At least we’ll still be together.”
“It will not come to that.” Luna stepped between Celestia and Twilight. “I will not allow it.”
“If we leave them be,” said Celestia, “they’ll destroy our entire civilization.” Her eyes never left Twilight.
“I know. Nothing short of banishment will deter them, yet I would sooner see them succeed at their mad quest than force even one pony to endure a thousand years of that.”
For long seconds, Twilight heard nothing but the frantic thudding of her heartbeat and the unearthly whine of Celestia’s barely-contained power.
“Fine.” Celestia’s magic faded, although none of the tension left her body. “I suppose I owe you that.”
“Thou dost.” Luna stepped back. “Thy decision is made, Twilight Sparkle. Thou wilt watch as the ponies thou would save are crushed beneath the burden thou givest them. Thou wilt know that their madness was thy own doing. Thou wilt live with the consequences of thy choice.” She turned to Celestia. “Thy student is more like thee than thou knowest.”
“I don’t think my friends will go mad,” Twilight said slowly. “I think that happened to you because you were lonely and jealous and trying to fit into your sister’s horseshoes. My friends aren’t going to do any of that. They just want to live. Even if they do go crazy, we’ll be able to help them. With so many princesses around, one rogue alicorn won’t be such a huge threat that we’d have to banish her.”
“I hope you’re right,” said Celestia, “for your sake. I am done with this. If you three are going to spit on everything my reign stands for, then you give up the right to my protection and guidance. I want you out of Equestria proper. You have two days to say your goodbyes, and then you will leave for the Everfree Forest or the Undercaverns or wherever you choose. If anypony is mad enough to join you, I will not stop them, but they will never return to Equestria.”
The exile hurt less than the wrath Twilight saw in Celestia’s eyes. “I hope you’ll change your mind,” she said. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”
“I won’t have you meddling with the heavens anymore, either,” said Celestia.
“I don’t—”
“This is pointless,” said Luna. “Thou wilt not listen. We are done here.” She faded from view as the stars fade at sunrise, and then Celestia stood alone.
Twilight took a cautious step forward. “Princess—”
Celestia vanished in a swirl of flames, leaving behind oily smoke and the smell of scorched earth.
“Oh,” said Twilight. She backed away from the spot where the greatest, most important pony in the world had stood only moments before.
A hoof touched her withers. Twilight flinched. “You okay there?” said Rainbow Dash. “You’re shaking.”
“One can hardly blame her,” said Rarity. “The princess was positively awful.”
“Well, don’t worry,” said Rainbow. “She’s gone now.”
“She is, isn’t she?” Twilight sat down heavily. “She’s gone.”
Apple Sprout was breathing hard. He and his father were hitched to the farm’s largest wagon, a creaking behemoth loaded with bushels upon bushels of apples. As they hauled the harvest through town, they were talking about the offer Princess Twilight and Aunt Dash had made. Since the alicorns’ announcement yesterday, ponies had spoken of little else.
“I have to admit,” he said, “it’s more than a little tempting. I’d be giving up so much, but… well, I’m thinking about it, is all.”
Crabapple snorted. “What’s there to think about?”
“Look, I don’t want to go against Celestia! If it were just my own life, that would be it. But, well, I’m going to be a dad. I have to be there for the little seedling, no matter what. If something happens to me… I mean, I worry… the kid…”
“Yeah,” said Crabapple. “I know.”
“I guess you would.” Apple Sprout fell silent for a moment while they maneuvered the wagon around the final bend to Ponyville’s town square. Market stalls and colorful carts stretched before them. “And, you know, nothing really bad happens to alicorns. I could stop worrying.” He set his jaw. “Anyway, that’s why I’m thinking about going with Aunt Dash. Maybe you think it’s crazy, but there it is.”
“The only crazy thing is that you haven’t made up your mind yet. Me, I’m going and I’m not looking back.”
Apple Sprout blinked. “What, just like that?”
“Of course just like that! It’s eternal youth and unlimited magic! Stars and strawberries, what could possibly hold me back?”
“The land. The farm. The legacy of six generations of Apples!”
Crabapple rolled his eyes. “Dirt. Trees. A bunch of dead ponies. The farm is good for one thing, and that’s taking care of ponies. Living ponies. Happens Auntie Dash and her friends found a better way to do that.”
“And you’d just leave our family behind?”
They pulled to a stop alongside Honey Pie’s market stall. “Not if you folks have the sense to come with me,” Crabapple said.
Honey Pie came around the side of the stall, accompanied by the smell of cinnamon and roasted apples. “Oh? Are you going somewhere?”
Apple Sprout undid the traces and helped his wife haul the first cask of apples from the cart to the stall. “He wants to go with Twilight,” he said.
“And you oughta come with me,” said Crabapple.
Honey Pie paused in her unloading. “What? Me, become a princess? I… I couldn’t!”
“Why not?” said Apple Sprout. “At least think about it.”
“But… I mean, you’re not thinking about it too, right, Sprout?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I haven’t decided anything…”
“Apple Sprout!”
“This is poignant and all,” said Crabapple, “but your granddaddy wanted me back at home. Can we get a move on with the unloading?”
“You can head on back,” said Apple Sprout. “We’ll handle it.”
Crabapple shrugged. “If you say so.” He ambled back towards the farm.
Sprout started to turn back to the cargo, but a hoof on his shoulder stopped him. “I can’t believe you!” Honey Pie said. “What’s wrong with what we have now? I thought you were happy!”
“Of course I’m happy!”
“Then why do you want to leave?”
“I don’t! I want to be an alicorn. If I could do that here, I would. No question. That’s not an option, but if you came with me… as long as I still had you and the kid, I could manage without the farm.”
She caressed his face. “You’re a good pony, Sprout, but that isn’t right. What makes us more special than all the ponies who came before us and lived and died? Ponies aren’t meant to last forever. What we have is enough.”
He sighed. “Well, I’m not going anywhere without you. That’s more important than anything.”
The hut felt as welcoming as it ever had. Zecora had lived to the age of ninety-nine, and in the years since her death, nature had done only superficial damage to her home. With the aid of their magic, it only took a couple of hours to restore the hut to its former condition. It still felt like Zecora’s space, making it far less lonely than anywhere else in the forest.
“There,” said Twilight. “That should do it. I almost expect to see her come back and start mixing up a potion.” She ran a hoof along the newly cleaned lip of Zecora’s cauldron.
“Quite,” said Rarity. “The accommodations should be more than adequate.” In truth, the hut’s decor wasn’t at all to her taste, but it was only temporary. They needed somewhere to live and work until they could build something suitable. “Just one more thing, and I’ll be all set.” She strode out into the shade of the Everfree Forest, crunching through the snow.
Twilight followed. “The hut’s pretty small, though. Do you think we can fit everypony inside? Do we need to conjure another house or something?”
“That would depend on how many ponies Rainbow Dash brings with her, of course.” While they were setting up lodgings, Rainbow Dash was gathering up anypony who wanted to become an alicorn. Today was the day their exile began, and once Rainbow left Ponyville, none of them would be going back. Rarity was trying to stay upbeat and focused on the task at horn, more for Twilight’s sake than her own. As much as Rarity would miss Ponyville, she had made her peace with leaving it behind when she was in the hospital.
Rarity focused on a fallen tree trunk and gathered her magic. She hadn’t yet used the alicorn magic Twilight had told her about, but her unicorn magic was far stronger than it had ever been. The trunk transformed into a canopied featherbed. “Perfect,” she said. “Twilight, be a dear and teleport that inside, if you would.”
“Are you sure we have space? The hut’s small, and that’s a pretty big bed for one pony.”
“Two ponies,” Rarity said. Center Stage was the only pony who she was certain would join them. “Anyway, if it’s too large, I’ll just transfigure it into something smaller.”
There was a rustle of hooves in the underbrush. “Hey, guys,” came Rainbow’s voice. “We’re here.” She emerged from the forest, followed by three ponies. First was Crabapple, wearing his familiar scowl. Behind him came Angel Cake, a light pink earth pony with a yellow-white mane who was even younger than Apple Sprout. Rarity felt a brush of the familiar guilt that she didn’t know the Cakes’ offspring as well as she meant to. Finally, Center Stage puffed along at the rear. He went to Rarity’s side, and the two of them nuzzled each other. There was no sign of Pinkie, of course; she lived too far away for word to have reached her yet. Rarity felt a stab of disappointment anyway.
“Crabapple?” said Twilight. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Huh? Why?” said Crabapple.
“Well, you sort of hate everything. Why would you, of all ponies, want to live forever?”
Crabapple shrugged. “Life stinks,” he said, “but it beats the alternative.”
“What about the rest of the folks?” said Rainbow Dash.
“Sprout’s interested,” said Crabapple. “The kid’s smarter than he looks. It’s that wife of his that’s holding him back. I swear she’s jumpier than Ma was.”
“Angel Cake,” said Twilight. “You’re one of Pumpkin Cake’s kids, right?”
“I’m Pound Cake’s daughter,” said Angel Cake. “His youngest.”
Rarity bit her lip. “Are you quite sure she’s old enough for this, Twilight?”
Angel Cake scowled. “I’m eighteen,” she said. “I can do what I want.”
“And why did you decide to come here?” said Twilight.
“Well.” She looked down. “I’ve always dreamed of being a princess. Living forever, having all that magic… who wouldn’t want that?”
“Is that all?”
“Not quite.” Angel Cake grinned sheepishly. “There’s also this boy, Toffee Twirl. He always looks past me, you know? Like he never even notices I’m there. But he was thinking of becoming an alicorn, too. If I do it, he’ll have to notice. They all will, even if I’m way over here in the forest.”
Rarity rolled her eyes. “You see what I mean.”
“So her reasons are kinda silly,” said Rainbow Dash. “She still wants to do the right thing.”
“Hey!” said Angel Cake. “My reasons are fine! It’s mostly the first one, anyway.”
“This decision can’t be undone,” said Twilight. “If you go through with it, I don’t think Celestia will ever let you back into her realm.”
“I understand,” said Angel Cake. “I’d rather be an alicorn here forever than an earth pony back there for fifty years.”
“Just so long as you know what you’re getting into,” said Twilight. “It’s your choice.”
“To start with,” said Rarity, “let’s get everypony settled in. I’ll show you the house. There should be enough room for six of us, if we squeeze a bit.” She set off towards the hut, and the others followed.
“So this is where a bunch of immortal demigods choose to live,” said Crabapple. “An abandoned shack in the woods.”
“Oh, hush, you,” said Rarity. “It’s charmingly rustic.”
Rainbow Dash laid a hoof on Twilight’s chest, holding her back. The others filed inside, leaving them alone in the forest.
“We didn’t really have a chance to talk, since I turned into this,” said Rainbow. “I want you to know that—”
“Could you please save it, for once?” said Twilight. “I know you don’t like me. That’s fine. I don’t like you either. There’s too much else going on, though. Can’t we just stay out of each others’ way?”
“No!” said Rainbow Dash. “Augh! I’m trying to forgive you!”
Twilight blinked. “For what?”
“For everything. For Fluttershy, mostly.”
“Now you forgive me? Now that I finally agree that it was wrong?”
“Look, you’re my friend,” said Rainbow. “This is what friends do. Maybe I should’ve done it before, but… well, it was harder. I was trying to get you to change your mind, and I needed to be mad to do that.”
“Oh, come on.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “You weren’t trying to persuade me. You were trying to hurt me. And you know what? You did a very good job.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“And should I take that any more seriously than you took my apologies? Or do you think you can buy my forgiveness with your own?”
Rainbow Dash looked down. “I dunno. I’m just saying I hurt you, and I did it on purpose, and it was wrong. Do what you’re gonna do. You’ve always been better at figuring out this stuff.”
“Ugh.” Twilight rubbed her forehead. “Well, thanks, anyway. I need to think about this. To tell the truth, though, you’re not the pony whose forgiveness I really need.”
“Then who is?”
“I don’t even know,” said Twilight. “Myself, maybe. Fluttershy.” She hesitated. “Celestia.”
Luna had expected Celestia to be in conference with one of her innumerable aides or advisers or assistants. Instead, Luna was surprised to find her alone in her private chambers. Celestia was curled up on a plush carpet in front of the fireplace. She had a mug of hot cocoa on one side and a stack of parchments on the other. Celestia was always bringing some report or petition with her when she ought to be relaxing. Now, she was ignoring the parchments to gaze at the fire with an expression of beatific calm.
“Sister. How good of you to come.” Celestia hadn’t looked up at her approach. “I assume you’re here to talk about Twilight Sparkle and her little band of dissidents. I could use your opinion. My cabinet isn’t sure what to make of this.”
“Thou knowest my views,” Luna said. “That is not why I am here. At least, not directly. I worry about thee. I know how much thy student meant to thee.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you.” Celestia levitated one of the parchments before her. She scanned it before tossing it into the fireplace, where it blackened and curled before igniting. “Twilight’s betrayal hurts, I’ll admit, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Now that I’m past the surprise, I’m more disappointed than anything else.”
“Truly?” Usually Luna admired Celestia’s stoicism, even emulated it. Today it frightened her. “Art thou so indifferent?”
“I have to be. My ponies need me, now more than ever. With Cadence the way she is, I certainly can’t let anything distract me.”
“Emotions are no mere distraction, sister.”
“You’re right. I said that poorly. Still, Equestria comes first.” Celestia sent another parchment into the flames.
Curious, Luna stepped closer and magically lifted the top parchment.
Dear Princess Celestia,
I am happy to report that the dragon has departed our fair country, and that it was my good friend Fluttershy who convinced him to go. This adventure has taught me to never lose faith in your friends. They can be an amazing source of strength, and can—
Celestia’s magic snatched the parchment away. Before Luna could react, Celestia flung it into the fire, followed moments later by the rest of the letters. The flames blazed high, sending sparks and ashen flakes spiraling upwards, then just as quickly faded back to a warm glow.
Luna stared in shock. “Those were—”
“They were.” Celestia’s face was as serene as ever.
“Thy collection went as far back as my return! Decades!”
“Fifty-six years, yes. But look what that brought us. I want no record of it.”
Luna took a deep breath, then laid down on the carpet beside Celestia. “One cannot erase a lifetime of friendship.”
“I have to.” Celestia looked into the distance. “This isn’t the first time I’ve needed to be strong for Equestria. It’s not even the hardest, as you know well.” Her eyes snapped into focus. Luna flinched away from the white-hot determination she had not seen in more than a thousand years. “Feelings for Twilight Sparkle could interfere with my judgment. Therefore, I feel nothing for Twilight Sparkle.”
Twilight relaxed her focus as her spell’s energy faded. “Hey, Rarity!” she called. “How does this look?” She took a step back from her creation to look about her. From her vantage atop Rarity’s tower, she could see everything. Zecora’s clearing was barely recognizable. Crabapple had built himself a neat wooden cabin, Angel Cake had a small stone house, and Rainbow Dash’s new cloud home floated just above the treetops. Rarity’s tower of marble and crystal, half-finished as it was, outstripped all of them put together. Twilight was amazed at how much their spells had built in four short days. She was the only one who had access to the full power of alicorn magic so far, but even Angel Cake was a match for any unicorn archmage.
Their numbers had grown, as well. Three more ponies had joined them, two from Trottingham and one from Holstallion. All had been strangers, and none were younger than forty-five. In the time it took Twilight to turn the first of them into an alicorn, Rarity had transformed both of the other two and added a stairwell to her tower. That had been yesterday, and already the stairwell was hidden behind a wall of translucent crystal.
Rarity flew through the open space where an outer wall would soon be built. She landed and examined the brass doorframe Twilight had just finished weaving into existence. It would become the entrance to the drawing room, Rarity had told her. “Well done,” said Rarity. “It’s positively wonderful. Although if you could make it less of a bronze shade and more of a gold, that would be lovely.”
“The detail work can wait,” said Twilight. “The new arrivals don’t have their own places yet.” They were sharing Zecora’s hut with Twilight in the meantime, and Cornflower snored.
“You’re right enough,” said Rarity, “although that reminds me. Rainbow Dash and I were talking about settling the next batch of ponies in the Everfree Castle, if they arrive before we have somewhere to put them. It’s quite close by wing, and I can quickly make it habitable.”
“You mean the castle where we fought Nightmare Moon?” Twilight managed to keep her incredulity out of her voice. “I don’t know. That used to be Celestia’s castle, and she might not want us moving in. We don’t need to make her any angrier than she already is.” She paused. “Besides, that place is creepy.”
“I suppose you’re right, but I hate to see you work yourself to the bone this way.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
“I create because I love to create. That’s not you. If you were studying some dusty book, I wouldn’t think twice, but this… why are you doing this?”
Twilight sucked air through her teeth. “If I stop working, then I start thinking.”
“Thinking?”
“I let Fluttershy die,” said Twilight. “I really don’t want to dwell on that.”
“That wasn’t your fault,” Rarity said firmly.
“Of course it’s my fault. I had power over life and death, and I chose death.”
“Fluttershy chose death. She never asked you to save her, did she?”
Twilight looked away. “You know, you’re not really helping with the ‘not dwelling on it’ part.”
“You can’t bury your feelings in work forever.” Rarity stepped closer. “You have to talk about it sometime.”
“By which you mean now,” said Twilight.
“Quite. Because you’re being silly. Fluttershy would have told you if she thought she needed saving.”
“Well, I didn’t save her, and now she’s dead. Maybe she would’ve thought differently, if I’d offered her the choice. Maybe I could’ve talked her into coming with us. Or maybe she still would’ve died. We’ll never know because I never even tried.”
“Excuse me.” Center Stage poked his head out from the stairwell. “Somepony’s coming.”
“What?” said Rarity. “Who is it?”
“Looks like a new one. I was over the forest, practicing my flying, when I saw. Some pegasus is headed our way, and fast. I figured you’d want to say hi.”
“Alright,” said Twilight. “Thanks.” So far, all of the newcomers had asked to see Twilight as soon as they arrived. Twilight had never questioned her abilities as a leader before, but now that she was the de facto head of the exiles, she had found a task big enough to give her pause. It was too late to turn back, however. She couldn’t reveal her doubts to anypony but Rarity. Twilight leaped from the edge of the tower, just ahead of Rarity and Center Stage.
The pegasus was arcing down for a landing, spreading her wings to catch the air and bleed off her excess speed. Even so, she was moving fast when she touched down by the base of the tower. She tried to canter along with the momentum, but quickly stumbled to her knees and skidded in the grass. By the time Twilight landed beside her, the pegasus was back on her hooves and shouting for help.
Twilight put on her problem-solving face. “It’s okay,” she said. “You’re here. You made it. Take deep breaths. What’s your name?”
The pony paced back and forth, shaking blades of grass loose from her legs. “I’m Breezybye. Look, we have to hurry. I don’t know how much time there is.”
“Perhaps you’d better explain,” Rarity said as she landed alongside Center Stage. “Start from the beginning.”
“Right,” said Breezybye. “It’s straightforward enough. My uncle Cobalt is dying, and he wants to become one of you. He’s old and sick and he can’t make it here on his own. Please, you have to go save him!”
“Where is he?” said Twilight.
“The hospital at Cloudsdale.”
Rarity frowned. “Princess Celestia did tell us to stay out of her domain. Perhaps it would be best if you had him carried here.”
“But he’ll die!” said Breezybye. “The doctors said not to move him.”
“Okay, then,” said Twilight. “I’ll send a message to Celestia first and ask her. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours to sort everything out.”
“He might not have hours. He’s fading fast.”
Twilight suppressed a grumble. “You know, this would’ve been a lot easier if you hadn’t come at the last minute.”
“I came as soon as he asked me to. Until he was about to die, I don’t think he wanted to do this.”
“Are you sure this is really what he wants?” said Twilight. “Maybe he’s just scared. This is a big decision.”
“He sounded sure! You can talk to him, if you want.”
“Perhaps we should argue later,” said Rarity. “It sounds as though time is of the essence.”
“You’re right,” said Twilight. “Rarity, Breezybye, I’ll teleport you two to Cloudsdale to save Cobalt, then I’m coming back here to write to Celestia. I guess I’ll be asking for her forgiveness instead of her permission.”
Sunstone looked up as the bell on the front door tinkled. “Welcome to the Carousel Boutique,” he said automatically. “What can I—” He cut himself off and rushed around the counter. “Goldie! How long has it been?”
“Too long,” said Golden Apple. “I’ve been in town twice in the last year, but I couldn’t make time to drop by. Family matters, and all that.”
“I know how it is. Family can be a real hornful.”
Golden Apple raised an eyebrow. “And how has your own family fared, since their… change?”
“I don’t know.” Sunstone felt a twinge deep inside. “Princess Celestia has forbidden communication with them.”
Golden Apple blinked. “I’d heard that, but… you’re their son! How can Celestia do that to you, too?”
“She told me this is too important to make any exceptions. I have to admit, I do see her point.”
“Why? If they want to go off and leave Equestria alone, whyever should we care?”
“Leave us alone, huh? I guess you haven’t heard about Cobalt.”
Golden Apple shook her head. “Was that recent? I’ve been on the train. I haven’t been getting news.”
“Mom went and plucked this Cobalt character right out of Cloudsdale. I have to say, I never expected this out of her.”
“But what’s wrong with what they’re doing?” said Golden Apple.
“Princess Celestia says it’s not a good idea, and that’s more than enough for me.”
Golden Apple raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And you don’t trust your mom?”
“She’s a good pony, and wise,” said Sunstone, “but Celestia is something else entirely. Everything Equestria is, is because of her.”
“Be that as it may. I don’t think it’s so wrong, letting ponies choose what to do.”
“Oh, I agree. We should have the choice. Still, that means being able to choose wrong. Ignoring Celestia seems like a bad plan.”
“I’m not convinced of that,” said Golden Apple. “This is Twilight Sparkle’s work. She was my first friend after I moved to Canterlot, and I’ve never met a better pony. I can’t imagine her being wrong about something like this. That’s why I came to Ponyville, truth be told. I hoped to speak with her.”
Sunstone frowned. “You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?”
“Of course I am. I’d be a fool not to consider it, at the least.”
“Well, that’s as far as you’re likely to get. Celestia’s not letting Breezybye back into Equestria, not after her role in this Cobalt thing. If you want to go talk to Twilight, it’s a one-way trip. I know you’re not going to leave your kids behind.”
“Not now, of course. But in ten years or so, when they’re grown… well, I think it would be worth it.”
Rainbow Dash was hard at work, summoning and shaping cloudstuff into finished structures. She had always been a skilled cloudworker, but now that Twilight had taught her a couple of weather spells, Rainbow could scarcely believe how quickly she built. Twilight herself was down below, helping Royal Ribbon with her transformation.
Up here, the cloud that had begun its existence as Rainbow’s house had been expanded over and over. It was already a small village, home to a dozen new alicorns, with more trickling in by the day. Rainbow Dash wasn’t the only pony building up here.
A hush fell over the construction crew. Ponies were staring at something. Rainbow Dash followed their gaze upward, squinting against the sun’s glare. Celestia was descending in a flawless arc. Other ponies backed away, but not Rainbow Dash. The two of them met alone on the half-finished cloud settlement.
“Rainbow Dash. You know why I’ve come.”
“I guess you’re mad about Cobalt.”
“I sent Twilight into exile. She returned days later. This is unacceptable.”
“Hey, a pony was gonna die if we didn’t!” Rainbow kept speaking as Twilight landed beside them. “Maybe you don’t think that’s a big deal, but I’m never gonna sit back and let that happen to anyone if I can help it.”
Twilight cleared her throat. Rainbow frowned. Twilight must have interrupted the transformation spell. “Princess,” she said with forced calm.
“Twilight.”
The two of them locked eyes. Twilight’s mouth worked soundlessly. Celestia was impassive as a stone.
“Princess, we…” Twilight trailed off, looked away, started again. “You have a point,” she said. “We can’t just wander into Equestria whenever we feel like it. Still, sometimes we might have to go in, if something like Cobalt’s situation happens again. We need to set up some kind of system.”
Celestia stared at Twilight with an unreadable expression. It was a long time before she spoke. “Did you have something in mind?”
“Not yet. I need to think about it and talk to the other ponies here. I guess I can come to Canterlot to figure things out in… let’s say three days.”
“Very well. This system of yours had better not allow any more double-dealing.” She spread her wings.
Twilight Sparkle visibly drew herself together. “Celestia. Can we go somewhere less public? I wanted to have a word about—”
“We have nothing to talk about,” said Princess Celestia. A beat of her wings carried her aloft. The wind of her passage played through Rainbow Dash’s mane.
Rainbow looked to Twilight, who was watching Celestia fly away with her jaw clenched. Rainbow Dash could see the tendons sticking out from her throat.
Ponies were starting to come closer. Angel Cake stepped forward, looking like she had something to say. Rainbow Dash shot her a look, and the filly backed off.
Rainbow draped a wing across Twilight’s withers and guided her towards Zecora’s hut. Twilight craned her neck to watch Celestia’s shrinking form until Rainbow Dash pulled her inside and shut the door. “Hey,” she said. “You wanna talk about it?”
An unintelligible sound rose from Twilight’s throat.
“You’ll be okay, Twilight. If she wants to keep being a butt, that’s on her.”
The noise Twilight made might have been a laugh or a sob. “Like when you were doing the same thing to me.”
“Yeah.” The blow struck home. “Like that.”
Rarity held her head high as she walked the length of Celestia’s throne room, surrounded by familiar faces. Fleur de Lis and Baron Primrose and several dozen other courtiers lined the hall on either side. Seneschal Checkerboard led her down the red carpet to the dais at the far end, where Celestia and Luna ruled. Four ceremonial guards lined the bottom of the dais. Rarity remembered fighting to defend Coltsdam alongside Nova Burst and Stoneskin of the Solar Guard. They stood shoulder to shoulder with handsome Spur and wise old Snake of the Lunar Guard, who had helped Pinkie Pie solve the mystery of the Star Scrolls. Every pony in the room had once been Rarity’s friend or ally, but now they all watched her with a mixture of awe and naked fear.
All but the Sisters themselves. Princess Luna seemed distant, while Princess Celestia appeared her usual serene self.
The seneschal stopped before the dais. “Princess Rarity,” he announced, “of the Everfree Forest.”
Rarity suppressed a frown. The title was respectful on the surface, yet he labeled her a foreigner.
Celestia spoke first. “I thought Twilight would come herself.”
“We considered it,” said Rarity. “We decided this way would be less emotionally fraught.”
“Wise. Twilight always was a sensitive pony.”
Rarity let that pass. It was true enough, even if Twilight wasn’t the only pony whose reaction they feared. “In any case, I speak with her voice. Twilight and the others agreed to abide by what we decide here.” She took a moment to compose herself. “As you established before, we need some method by which we can induct those Equestrians who wish to join us but cannot make the journey, while at the same time honoring the separation you have imposed. We have a proposal.”
“I’m not convinced I should do anything to help my ponies run to your village.”
“With respect, Princess,” said Rarity, “that’s not your decision to make, nor mine. The ponies themselves must decide. You and I should do no more than honor their wishes as best we can.”
“You’re not honoring their wishes,” said Celestia. “You’re invading Equestria. Your path will destroy this land as surely as Nightmare Moon would have. I won’t let that happen.”
Rarity’s eyes narrowed. “Say what you mean, Princess.”
“Either your ponies will respect Equestria’s borders,” said Celestia, “or I will stop you with magic and flame.”
“And you accuse us of following in Nightmare Moon’s path?”
Celestia bristled. “This is nothing like that.”
Luna spoke for the first time. “It is,” she said. “The Nightmare turned to force when persuasion failed. I will not help thee do the same, sister.”
“Then what?” snapped Celestia. “We tried being reasonable. It’s not working. If we give in now, then we’ll give in next time. You know that, and so does Twilight Sparkle. Her followers will devour our realm to feed their own. Force has always been our last resort, but we have always used it when there was no other way to protect Equestria. You fought against Discord and Lord Bronze. You convinced me to imprison Sombra. This is no different.”
“Those foes were using force themselves,” said Luna. “I will not strike first. If we cannot persuade ponies that we are right, then perhaps we should ask ourselves why.”
Celestia tossed her head and turned back to Rarity. “You said you have a proposal.”
“Quite. We would like to set up an embassy in each major city. Nothing grand, just a place where one or two of us can live and where ponies can find us, if need be. That way, ponies such as Cobalt can freely choose whether to join us or no, and we can stay out of the way of the rest of your society. Ponies who do not seek us out need never see us in the streets or, indeed, think of us at all.”
“It will not work,” said Luna. “While I have no doubt that thy ponies intend to shut themselves away, they will not find it so easy. They may be able to conjure their own food, but all your newfound power is no defense against solitude. Some will succumb and leave their cloister. I will not have these ambassadors wandering the cities, and I will not have you in our streets every day as you change shifts.”
“Then how do you propose we solve this?”
“With the example Twilight Sparkle provided us. When ponies have need of thy kind, they will call you. We will permit you to enter, perform your magics, and leave with your new convert, just as Twilight did with Cobalt. You will not linger. You will not come for any other reason. You will take your quarry and go. We will even permit the messenger to return.”
“Not every pony will get a message to us in time,” said Rarity. “If Breezybye had been an earth pony rather than a pegasus, Cobalt would be dead. Your proposal is unacceptable, Princess.”
“As is yours,” said Celestia.
“Perhaps a compromise,” said Rarity. “Not only will we stay within our embassies, but we will also come and go only by teleporting. That way, we need never set hoof or wing in Equestria and show your followers what they’re missing.”
“Very well,” said Luna. “That should be adequate.”
“Fine,” said Celestia. “Fine. We’ll get something in writing. We’ll have no more of these emergency changes.”
“There is one other thing,” said Rarity. Twilight had wanted to wait before bringing up their other request, but Rainbow Dash had helped Rarity convince her to relent. “I have not seen my son since you banished me. I ask that you let him visit us in Everfree and return to Equestria, along with any others who wish to. I will not argue against our own banishment, but please, don’t exile anypony who merely sets hoof in our land.”
Celestia’s face was flat. “You chose to turn your tail on Equestria. This is your own doing.”
“Sunstone should not suffer for her foolishness,” said Luna. “It is a cruel thing to separate a family.”
Celestia glanced at her sister for the briefest moment before looking away. “Then ponies can visit your kind in these embassies you’ve insisted upon. I won’t have ponies moving between your realm and ours at a whim, but small, short visits won’t hurt too much.”
“Thank you,” said Rarity.
“Do you have any further demands?” said Luna.
“No,” said Rarity. “That is all.”
“Then go,” said Celestia.
Rarity left, fighting down an impolitic grin. She had called Celestia’s bluff, and won.
“Twilight! Come check this out!” Rainbow’s voice was pure glee.
Twilight turned. “What is it now?” Since they left Equestria, Rainbow Dash had been constantly trying to buddy up to Twilight. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Part of her was still hurting, but part was grateful to have one piece of her old life back.
“So I was trying out some tricks, now that I’ve finally got time to see what this new body can do. You’re never gonna believe this.”
“Alright. Let’s see it.”
Rainbow grinned. She spread her wings, crouched low, and—
Rainbow Dash exploded into a momentary trail of prismatic light, searingly bright, but gone before Twilight even finished blinking. Rainbow stood in the grass several hundred yards away. She turned, then another flash, and Rainbow was in front of Twilight once again.
Twilight gaped. “What was…”
“That’s speed! I though the sonic rainboom was fast, but that was nothing next to this!”
“You mean you’re just flying fast?”
Rainbow grinned. “Just flying fast?”
Twilight bit her lip. “I wonder if… hm. I want to try something.” She shifted her focus, bringing her cosmic awareness to the fore for the first time since Celestia had banished her. “Okay, try that again.”
The words had barely left her mouth before Rainbow Dash blazed off again. The rainbow trail was a wide circle, a mile across or more, as she pulled to a halt a couple of hornlengths from where she had started. Again, she moved too fast for Twilight to see. One moment Rainbow Dash was there, the next she was somewhere else.
Twilight’s astronomical senses confirmed her suspicions. “You were flying at the speed of light, just now.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“And that’s fast?”
“That’s the fastest speed there is. Even teleportation doesn’t go half that fast.”
“Hah! Awesome! Just think how fast I’ll be able to go with some more practice.”
Twilight shook her head. “You can’t go faster than light. That’s not how speed works.”
“Come on! I do impossible things all the time. And now I actually have all the time!”
“Hold on.” Something was tickling the edge of Twilight’s awareness. Now that she was paying attention to the cosmos, she sensed something new in the sky. The moon radiated Luna’s familiar presence, but something else as well…
“Well?” said Rainbow. “What is it?”
“I said hold on.” Twilight focused. The new presence was coming from the sky but was not of the sky, which meant... “There’s somepony on the moon.”
“What? Who? Luna?”
“I don’t know who. Not Luna.”
“Then it’s one of us, right? I mean, I don’t know how a pony would even get there, but it’d have to be an alicorn.”
“I think you’re right. But I don’t know who it is, or why they’re there, or… anything, really.”
Rainbow Dash grimaced. “I don’t like it. Could’ve been one of us getting banished. We oughta go check it out.”
“I think I can teleport there,” said Twilight, “but I don’t know if I’m strong enough to take both of us.”
“Alright, then. Do your thing.”
Twilight did. It was not the most powerful spell she had ever cast, nor the most complicated, but it was close. She arrived in a daze, with barely enough presence of mind to conjure a globe of air around herself. It was dark and silent and cold, even with her magic warming her. All she saw was pale dust and jagged boulders and deep shadows and pinpoint stars in the boundless sky.
“H-hello?” Twilight called. “Is someone here?”
A shadow stirred. She caught a glimpse of washed-out color. “Twilight? Is that you?”
She knew that voice. “Cadence? What are you doing on the moon?”
Cadence stepped into the dim light. Her coat was dulled by gray dust. “I wanted to find somewhere I could be alone.”
“Huh?”
“Equestria is dying, Twilight. You killed it. Now it’s just a matter of time. Your society will keep getting bigger. You’ll grow, but you’ll never lose a member. Sooner or later, there won’t be any room for regular ponies. What are we supposed to do once they’re gone?”
“I don’t see a problem. We are regular ponies.”
“Did you come here to argue?”
“No, I didn’t. Sorry. I came here to find out what’s going on.”
“Okay.” Cadence turned away. “Now you know. You can go.”
“What? But I don’t understand at all! Why are you hiding up here? I’ve never known you to run from a fight.”
Cadence eyed her. “Are you trying to convince me to stop you?”
“I just want to know what’s wrong! I care about you, Cadence. You’re the only family I have left.”
The look Cadence gave her could have turned a cockatrice to stone. “You’re my only family, too, because I let the rest die. Five husbands and eight children. Now all I have left is a bunch of great-great-grandchildren who barely know who I am. And you. And Equestria. Equestria is the most beautiful thing that ever was or will be, more important than me or Shining Armor or Nocturne Sonata, and everything I went through was worth it because Equestria would go on forever. Except now you killed it, and I watched my children die for nothing. I won’t stay and watch Equestria die, too. I can’t.”
“If you—”
“I came here to find peace and solitude,” said Cadence. “Are you going to take that away, too?”
Twilight started to speak, then stopped herself. Wordlessly, she teleported away.
The Ponyville embassy was a small building, two rooms of cozy timber. They told Crabapple it was near the heart of town, but he wouldn’t know. He’d never seen it from outside.
“Look, Pa,” he said, “I really wish you’d come and join us. You’re still in one piece, but with ponies your age, that’s no guarantee. If there’s a heart attack or something, you might not be able to make it to the embassy in time.”
Macintosh shook his head. “Don’t plan on being an alicorn.”
“What? You’re joking.”
“Reckon I lived long enough. Did everything I want to do.” Macintosh’s voice was as steady as ever.
“You’re talking about suicide.”
“Dying ain’t suicide.”
“Hey, when you get to choose between living and dying, and you pick dying, they have a word for that.”
Macintosh shrugged. “Ever since your ma died, reckon I’ve just been waiting to go. Ain’t got nothing left to live for.”
“Right, right. It’s not like you have any children who might want you around.”
“You don’t need me no more. You’re a grown pony. You know how to be decent folk, when it suits you. I did alright when my folks passed on, and you will too. Me, I just wanna be with your ma again.”
Crabapple rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. If you actually believed that, you wouldn’t have to wait around. You could go and actually kill yourself.”
Macintosh leaned forward a fraction of an inch. “Ain’t funny.”
“That’s debatable, but I wasn’t joking. I’m actually curious, here. If you’re in such a hurry to die, then why don’t you?”
“I’ll get there when I get there. She’ll wait.”
“What if she’s not? What if you’re wrong about what happens?”
“Then I’m wrong.” Macintosh shrugged. “I’ll take the chance, for her.”
“Augh.” Crabapple turned away for a moment before he could face his father again. “So, what, she’s more important than we are? You’d throw away an eternity with me and Sprout for just a chance at seeing her again? Is that really what I’m hearing?”
Macintosh nodded. “Eeyup.”
“Auntie Dash! Hey, Auntie Dash!”
“Sprout!” Rainbow Dash banked and dove towards Apple Sprout. He was rising with the now-familiar awkwardness of a pony unaccustomed to having wings. Rainbow Dash plowed into him, wrapping him in a four-legged hug. Apple Sprout forgot to keep flying as he returned the embrace, laughing, but Rainbow Dash was more than strong enough to ease them both to the ground.
“When did you show up?” said Rainbow. “I had no idea you were even here.”
Apple Sprout shrugged. “I’m not sure. Dad transformed me right when I got here, and we finished that maybe half an hour ago, but I have no idea how long we were out.”
“Twenty-two hours,” said Honey Pie as she walked to her husband’s side, “and ten minutes.” She was visibly pregnant now, Rainbow Dash noticed. It took her another moment to realize she was looking at an earth pony; it had been some time since she had seen one.
“You couldn’t find somepony to do the princess thing for you?” Rainbow Dash said. “I can handle it.”
Honey Pie swallowed. “I don’t want to be an alicorn.”
“Oh, yeah, of course,” said Rainbow Dash. “I’ve got no idea if that would do anything to the foal. Good call. Well, after the little guy’s born, you should find Rarity. She managed to transform a pony in less than an hour, once.”
“No,” said Honey Pie. “I mean I don’t want to be an alicorn.”
“Sure, then—wait. What? But, I mean, why are you here?”
Sprout cleared his throat. “I wanted to become this. She didn’t. If we stayed in Equestria, we couldn’t do that and still be together.”
“I guess. But really, you don’t know what you’re missing. If you could fly, you’d see pretty—”
“Auntie Dash,” said Apple Sprout.
Rainbow sighed. “Right. Okay. Sorry. But this won’t be easy, and I don’t just mean the whole ‘getting old and dying’ thing. We’re trying to move everypony up to the cloud village.” She frowned thoughtfully. “You’d better learn that cloudwalking spell, kiddo.”
Twilight read the letter. She read it a second time, and a third. The words stubbornly refused to change.
She glanced to the side, where Rainbow Dash was reading over her withers, looking as stricken as Twilight felt. “Where did you get this?” said Rainbow.
“Ponyville,” said Rarity. She hovered above them, unable to keep still. “Sunstone brought it to me at the embassy. I came looking for you two as soon as I got back.”
“Stars and stones,” said Rainbow Dash. “How are we gonna tell Crabapple?”
“I don’t know,” said Twilight. “There he goes.” She pointed off the edge of the cloud city they stood upon. Not far below, Crabapple drifted on the breeze. Soon enough, he returned their stare, then flew up to join them.
He scowled. “Well? What is it?”
Silence. Twilight shuffled her hooves.
Crabapple glowered. “Something’s going on.”
“Oh, Crabapple,” said Rarity. “I suppose there’s no good way to say this.”
Twilight saw the confusion fade in his eyes, saw the hurt grow in its place. “Oh.” His voice was soft, almost a whimper. “How did it happen?”
“A stroke,” said Twilight. “The letter says there wasn’t any pain.”
“Pa, you stubborn old fool,” Crabapple whispered. “I told you.”
Rainbow Dash looked up. “It’s not—” she said, then choked off.
“Your father is perfectly healthy,” said Rarity.
Crabapple frowned. “Then what…”
“Your sister,” said Twilight. “I’m sorry. Golden Apple is dead.”
Crabapple made a low, strangled sound. Rainbow Dash reached out to him, but he was already flying away.
They watched him leave. “We should go after him,” said Twilight.
“Give him some time,” said Rainbow Dash.
“I don’t know,” said Rarity. “No one should be alone at a time like this.”
Rainbow Dash took a deep breath. “We’ll be here when he’s ready. Give him a little while. This is Crabapple, not Pinkie Pie.”
“We’ll have to write to the princesses about the funeral,” said Twilight. “Crabapple should be there.”
Rarity frowned. “Do you think Celestia will allow it?”
“Oh, come on,” said Rainbow Dash. “This is Celestia. She tries to be a good pony. No way is she gonna say no. I mean, his own sister.”
“Then I’d better go write that letter,” said Rarity, horn glowing. “Pardon me, girls.” She teleported away, leaving a fog of sparkling motes.
“I can’t believe she’s dead,” said Twilight.
Rainbow Dash said nothing. She wheezed, once.
“This is my fault,” said Twilight. “If I’d started all this earlier, maybe we could’ve saved her in time.”
“Whoa, hey!” said Rainbow. “This one’s not on you.”
“You don’t know that. Everything would have been different if—”
“Twilight. If this were your fault, I’m the one who’d call you on it. This? Not your fault.”
“It, it isn’t fair,” said Twilight. “I destroyed everything, I tore apart Equestria and Celestia hates me and, and ponies are still dying. She wasn’t supposed to die.”
“It’s okay.” Rainbow Dash wrapped a wing around Twilight and pulled her close. “It’s okay.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Twilight’s voice was muffled by Rainbow’s feathers.
“You’re doing everything a pony can. No one could ask for more.”
“I guess.” Twilight forced her breathing under control. “I really should’ve started earlier, though.”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Rainbow Dash.
“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Ponies are dead!”
“Okay. Look. You were wrong, then. I mean, really wrong. But now you’re not, and thinking about what happened isn’t gonna help anypony. Now you gotta get past it.”
Twilight blinked. “What, you mean just decide to move on?”
“Uh. Pretty much, yeah.”
“I wish. But it’s not that simple.”
“It kind of is? I mean it’s hard, but so what? You’re good at hard things. I guess it takes patience, but yeah, that’s you.”
“Right,” said Twilight. “Patience.”
The moon was dark and cold. Worse was the silence. Twilight stood on the gray plain, trying to ignore the chill seeping into her hooves. Cadence sprawled limp several lengths away.
The silence had been constant since her arrival two, maybe three hours ago. The first time Twilight had returned, Cadence fled. Twilight had followed her rapid-fire teleporting in a queer staccato race. The second time, Cadence had glowered in silence for hours until Twilight left. Now Cadence was ignoring her entirely, which was somehow the hardest of all.
Twilight wasn’t about to give up, though. She said nothing, for there was nothing to say. Her presence was all she could provide. She remembered Luna’s lecture on the horrors of isolation. Twilight would not let Cadence suffer that fate, self-inflicted or no.
And so she waited. She would leave without hearing a word, she knew. She would be back. Again and again, maybe for weeks, maybe for decades. When Cadence finally needed her, Twilight would be there.
Twilight was watching the sunrise when Rarity arrived. Spears of red-gold sunlight pierced the city beneath her wings—and now it really was becoming a city. Spires of cloud and gold and glass mingled together like an artist’s fever dream.
Rarity teleported in so smoothly, blending her form with the surrounding air, that it took several seconds before Twilight even noticed.
“Oh!” said Twilight. “You’re getting good at that.” She paused at the grin on Rarity’s face. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“Twilight, darling, it’s wonderful news! You’ll never guess who I ran into at the embassy! Oh, I am positively delighted.”
“Do you mind if we skip the guessing game? This sounds important.”
“Oh, very well. Some ponies have no flair for the dramatic. Follow me.”
Rarity teleported away, but slowly, leaving an obvious ethereal trail for Twilight to follow. An eyeblink later, they were within Rarity’s tower beneath the city, along with—
Twilight went down under the weight of a full-grown pony. “Did you miss me? Did you did you did you?”
“Pinkie!” Twilight extracted herself from the tackle-hug. “I was starting to worry you weren’t coming.”
Pinkie giggled. “Well that was silly. I came as soon as I could. I just had to get the foster stable set up so it could keep working without me, first.”
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Twilight brushed her mane out of her face. “After Applejack and Fluttershy… it would’ve been hard to lose you, too.”
“Well, now we’re all together! You don’t have to worry about that ever again.”
Ponyville’s cemetery was crowded. The funeral was a short affair, and tense. Crabapple didn’t linger, but took to the air as soon as Golden Apple was in the ground, before even his father could speak to him. Luna’s eyes never left Crabapple as he flew. In spite of the few mourners who summoned the courage to approach her, Luna kept her gaze on Crabapple’s shrinking form. His passage left tiny whirlwinds in the snowflakes drifting to the ground.
Macintosh planted a sapling atop the grave, and ponies began to trickle away. By the time afternoon slunk into evening, Luna was alone in the cemetery.
“Twilight Sparkle,” she said. “I know thou art here.”
Twilight’s image wavered into view as she dropped the illusion spell about her. “I, um, hi.” She stood beside Applejack’s grave, a stone’s throw from Luna and Golden Apple. “Please don’t be mad.”
Luna took a breath and looked at the setting sun. “Thy presence here is foolish.”
“I know! But Golden Apple was my friend.”
“You are fortunate my sister sent me to watch Crabapple in her stead. Had she come herself, this would have gone poorly.”
“Oh, come on.” Twilight’s breath steamed in the winter air. “She won’t actually do anything. She’s backed down how many times, now?”
“It would have gone poorly for her. She is hurting terribly. There is no call to make it worse than you already have.”
Twilight shrank in on herself. “I’m sorry.”
“I am not the one who needs thy apology.”
Twilight paused. She took a deep breath, gathered herself, and strode forward. “No, actually, you know what? You don’t get to ask for that.” She tapped Golden Apple’s tree with a forehoof. “She’s the one who’s been wronged, but because of you two, this will keep happening.”
Luna was silent for long seconds. “Perhaps not for as long as thou thinkst. Golden Apple’s children are already traveling to thy city. There are dozens more who had been waiting to make the journey, but who will delay no longer, after this. Can you support so many?”
“Oh, we can. The others are getting better at magic, so we’re building faster and conjuring more food with every day that goes by.”
“Good,” said Luna. “That is good. Thy civilization cannot be stopped, now. All that remains is to make the best of it.”
“Can you tell that to your sister?” Twilight said quickly.
“I have tried. Some day, I may persuade her, but I do not think she will forgive thee, Twilight Sparkle.”
“Oh,” said Twilight. “Oh.” She hesitated. “What about you?”
Luna sighed. “Perhaps a pact is in order. I will forgive thee for tearing down the old order, if thou wilt forgive me for upholding it.”
Twilight nodded. “Yeah. Let’s. I’m not blameless in maintaining the old order, either. And Rainbow would say we need to move on.” She cleared her throat. “Speaking of which, I ought to go. I don’t really belong here.”
“True enough.” Luna looked at the tombstones around her. “Thou art everything this place is not. Even so, I would have thee stay for a while.”
“Thank you.” Twilight settled on her haunches. “I need this.”
Luna stretched a wing towards Twilight, stopped herself, refolded the wing at her side. “The hurt will fade, in time.”
“Yes.” Twilight reached out her own wing and pulled Luna close. The two ponies leaned into each other. “We have a lot of time.”
