Wroth Sentiments

by The Apologetic Pony

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Celestia, Alternate Universe, Twilight Sparkle, Sad, Nightmare Moon, Princess Luna, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 11439

After reading of the events in "Millennial Heartstrings" Twilight Sparkle confronts the royal sisters seeking the truth to the mystery of Philomena.

After reading of the events in "Millennial Heartstrings" Twilight Sparkle confronts the royal sisters seeking the truth regarding the fate of Philomena.

This will not make sense if you haven't read the prequel. As always please comment and let me know if you're liking this or not, I appreciate it. I don't know exactly where this is going, so tags may be subject to change. Cheers for reading, thanks for favourting and hugs for commenting!

Published 2013-07-16 23:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-09-23 16:39:29 UTC

6: Reminiscence

Raucous cheers filled the atmosphere as hooves crashed down onto the table, as they’d done many times before. The strongstallion had bested another competitor foolish enough to challenge his mighty arm, much to the enjoyment of the crowd.

‘Someone buy him another round!’

Eventually a glass made its way between the clumsy bodies, drops of beer lining its exterior. The champion finished in two quaffs, roared, and yelled ‘Who’s next?’ He didn’t have any competitors, he’d already beaten twenty. There was an unfamiliar face among the regulars. Ponyville didn’t have many and its sole bar saw even fewer, so it was with some vague embarrassment Twilight drunk her apple cider. Then again, she mused that it’d be much worse if they did recognise her.

‘Gosh it’s different.’

‘The bar or the drink?’

Discord, her faithful companion was shrunk to less than three-quarters his normal size allowing him to hide under her robe when he felt like it. He’d hardly be able to get into the bar otherwise. Conveniently, both her wings and the mark on her flank were covered beneath the garment, allowing her to ruse as a unicorn. Naturally, concealing a set of wings was infinitely easier than a horn, short of cutting off, which would kill her anyway.

‘Hey, I know you!’

One of the bar-goers had taken it upon himself to sit opposite Twilight, looking at her with obvious suspicion.

‘Yeah, you’re that one mare, from that one magazine...’

‘Go home, you’re drunk.’

Twilight hadn’t got any better at lying, but she had learned a few tricks from Luna in more ways than she knew.

‘Am I?’

She nodded.

‘So what’s that?’ He asked, pointing to the weird floating-thing by her shoulder.

‘Him? He’s my... Party Dragon. Yes, my Party Dragon!’

The stallion was very confused. Twilight placed her hoof on his chest.

‘You should really go home if you’re seeing things like that, dear.’

Convinced, the stallion nodded slowly, before stumbling to the exit.

‘What have you called me now? A party dragon, a senior assistant, a harmless exotic species of serpent, ferocious alligator, tax collector and jovial madman?’

‘You forgot Discord.’

He huffed and puffed several clouds of smoke before he said, ‘You don’t call me that.’

The odd pair spent the night in the same inn, using her increasingly meager supply of bits. But of course, she’d calculated her expenses to the last penny and was in a comfortable position as a result. Twilight had gone so far as to refuse Discord’s numerous offers to produce an endless supply, saying it’d devalue the currency, and so on. Discord thought the Equestrian Economic Council must have really drilled it into her.

There was nothing left of the house Twilight had once lived in but a hollow stump, telling tales of the mare it’d housed. Fluttershy’s was much the same, if a little greener. Like most cloud-houses, Rainbow Dash's had naturally dispersed into the wind, surely used to build a storm, sometime, somewhere. Applejack’s farm was longer a family business, though well maintained nonetheless. The majority of the apples produced were used for cider; with the eventual acceptance of a more automated system, sales soared. But the apples themselves were vintage hoof-bucked, always hoof-bucked. Sugercube corner had been transformed into a small casino of sorts, which had once been in popular demand. Discord would say, ‘Everything was once in popular demand.’ The Carousel Boutique was long gone, much like Rarity's vanity. She’d hadn’t made it more than a petite business, but perhaps she feared that if it were any larger than one store, she’d be pulled away from her closest friends.

Twilight stepped in a puddle, and was slammed to the ground by a yellow pegasus who didn’t look both ways. There were profuse apologies all round, and awkward looks a few seconds afterwards.

‘You’re a... alicorn.’

Twilight eyeballed her briefly exposed wings as though they were incredibly offending objects. Apparently the collision had caused the material to fold over itself in an inconvenient manner.

‘Twilight, is that you? Twilight Sparkle?’

The alicorn failed to form a coherent sentence.

‘It is, isn’t it? Oh my gosh! My grandma told me stories about you before you were... y’know. Pardon me for being so rude, I’m Springleaf; I’m ecstatic to meet you! You were the element of magic, if I remember. Am I right, or am I right?’

Twilight was dumbfounded that the recognition came from her as a unicorn, not as ruler.

‘Hey, er, Twi, are you okay? Do you mind if I call you that? I think it’s a good nickname.’

She found there to be a casual similarity between Springleaf and Pinkie, she hadn’t met somepony as bubbly and gregarious for years upon years upon years; Twilight hadn’t said a word.

‘I’m okay, Springleaf, I’m just surprised, that’s all. You seem like a perfectly nice pony though.’

‘Aww, thanks! You didn’t think I’d judge you did you? That’d be so silly of me! You’ve already saved us all and besides, who’d want to stay in that big ol Canterlot castle anyway? It looks super boring.’

Twilight was well aware she was having words shoved into her mouth, but they had a veracity to them that she’d never speak of herself anymore. Having somepony else speak them for her was a great weight off her back, reminiscent of the days where she hadn’t yet carried any element at all.

‘Your honesty is admirable; few ponies would have the courage to say such things to me.’

Twilight cringed at her formality.

‘It’s not honesty silly, it's instinct! Its best not to overthink things, sometimes, Twi. Anyway, I was going somewhere before I crashed into you, gotta go bye!’

‘Er, bye!’ Twilight said as Springleaf launched over an apartment block.

The “Party Dragon” commented from under her coat on Springleaf being an interesting mare and chided Twilight for not asking who the grandpa was.

There was one more significant event in Twilight’s adventure, when she went to see Spike. He was middle-aged for a dragon now, and relatively slim. At first they greeted ambivalently, wary how their separation might have estranged them. Because they knew little about the other’s position, it was fairly easy to get a dialogue going. Small talk like ‘How was it ruling?’ and ‘How was the dragon migration?’ spiraled into more questions answered. Twilight let him know how immensely proud of her little scribe she was and Spike let her know he was proud of her too. Discord was sensitive enough to wait until the two had broken the ice before revealing himself, but Spike was still shocked to see him. He was unconvinced that the ‘mercurial animal’ would maintain his sanity (if he ever had any) for much longer. Discord stopped Twilight from retorting. Spike had fathered three children and given two of them to ponies. The third, Alexandra, was left to a protective mother-dragon. He explained he never felt he was the parental, loving type, not that it would have been conventional for the father to play any part in the raising of his children. She cast spell number twenty five in affection.

7: Promise Kept, Ends Met

It’d been four years since Twilight had abandoned her post, so it was of no surprise when the sun did not rise in dawn.

Canterlot palace echoed with whispers of revolution.

Nightmare had appeared before Celestia with armour donned, reptilian eyes and Cutiemark all changed back to the old ways. Her moon was suitably waxing and stationary, sitting at its zenith. Celestia followed how the mithril altered the outline of her sister, her neck broader, legs slenderer; wings more pronounced. She said to her, ‘I think it’s time you stepped down, dearest Tia.’ After several seconds of stern consideration, Celestia wrapped her arms around Nightmare’s neck and kissed her passionately. She stroked her nape as though she were touching skin, not metal, and their tongues snaked as though they’d been intimate forever. And who knows, maybe they had. Nightmare Moon didn’t resist in the slightest.

‘I trust you. You’ve got the look of a murderer in your eyes; I can’t stop you, so I’ll trust you instead. I’ll trust with all my soul. Whatever happens, I swear to you, I will be by your side. What are you going to bring our little ponies?’

‘A nation where we don’t rule, sister. A nation where ponies will choose who to represent them wherever it leads them: To famine and war, to prosperity and longevity, to freethinking or to control. The epoch of our diarchy is over, Tia. Democracy will rise. Come, let me show you my conviction.’

Luna called a guard inside. The entirely innocent stallion thought he was going to be court martialed if he was being personally summoned to the presence of both princesses. Nightmare Moon ruthlessly slit his throat instead.

Twilight was already making preparations to travel to Canterlot palace. She’d been offered a flying pig as transport, and she’d sensibly refused it. What confused her most was not the jarring of the celestial cycle, it was that neither of the princesses had contacted her in one way or another. If either Celestia or Luna had fallen ill, or in any other reasonable situation she could conceive, she would have been told. They hadn’t dismissed her completely, had they? As she gathered the energy she needed for such a long-distance teleportation, Discord was quiet except for some occasional incoherent mumbling. Only when Twilight was about to leave did he interrupt her, insisting there was something she needed to know. The mare couldn’t imagine what could be just so important, but let him do so nonetheless.

Discord told Twilight everything - her dreams, Nightmare Moon and how he’d broken free, which was in almost exactly the same way as he’d done before. Which is to say, he’d escaped because chaos was spurting and harmony was not. It effectively paralysed her. She was deeply rattled by both the concept and the possibility that her actions and thoughts being manipulated in no way she could sense nor control. She could have sworn that she did want to leave the palace and even royalty for a while. No matter what Twilight did, it would be under the guise that it may be a lie. Was this doubt her own? We’re her ambitions truly hers? Would she have had these motivations otherwise? Was this, in itself a pulling of some evil heartstrings, so that she did Discord’s will? Twilight had believed she’d learned to trust him, but now she realised she hadn’t, and perhaps rightly so. Was she herself anymore?

The cessation of the planets and stars made ponies believe time had stopped. It was, by definition, the movement of the sun that determined what was a day and what was a night. Though it was done so by alicorns, who were ultimately ponies, wasn’t there some cosmic force they answered to? They feared abandonment of a kind, that their princess no longer cared for them, as well as the death of the crops and the death of themselves. Because the ponies of Equestria had never known the sisters to act, or to be, or to say maliciousness in any way, there was rampant hysteria when there was nopony who could tell them why the moon was at an eternal apex. The foals wailed as the guardians cried for the looting of their homes and what to them seemed to be the end of the world.

It was Discord who spurred Twilight into action, with ulterior motives in mind, inexorably. All he wanted was the destruction of the harmonious elements, the pandemonium that rose as a consequence was merely a bonus. It’s hard to blame an immortal whose motive was to secure his existence outside of stone. Discord argued Twilight had no choice but to act on what she thought was right; this was not the time for apathy or inaction. While he was successful in convincing her, she acted with great reluctance. Twilight was painfully aware however she acted, she was the ignoble bitch. The only difference between her action and her paralysis was the acceptance of her status.

The three alicorns and Discord met in Canterlot for the final time. They faced off in the middle of the city, with Twilight and Discord and the sisters on opposite sides. Smoke rose from the buildings still standing, windows smashed, doors broken and deserted. A few faithful lunatics hadn’t fled, who were now urgently knocking on a magical barrier Nightmare had erected. The sky was black and blue with nightly ash. Twilight, steeled for combat, barked at Discord to gather stragglers and take them somewhere safe. He gleefully refused! He cared for Twilight, but he cared for the unfolding snafu more. Witnessing her rapidly waning alternatives, she called out to Celestia to help her end to this lunacy. Celestia couldn’t match her gaze, glancing downwards, seeing nothing but the cobbled ground instead. It appeared the born alicorn was about to utter, but Nightmare promptly grabbed her muzzle and kissed her, leaning toward the taller mare. Twilight experienced severe difficulty in not charging at Nightmare instantly, screaming in fury and jealousy. It was an irrevocable betrayal on the most primitive level. Nightmare Moon temporarily pulled back, glinted at Twilight, and said ‘She’s mine, bitch.’

That was it. Twilight’s discipline shattered. She didn’t ask what Nightmare wanted and she didn’t question Celestia’s slavish role in this. The red haze was too strong. For somepony who claimed to not have anything against Twilight Sparkle, Nightmare Moon was taking great pleasure from provoking her.

Nightmare shoved her lover aside as soon as she saw the glow of Twilight’s horn and quickly removed her armour, not expecting to survive a hit. Twilight blinked out of existence and had her wing striking at Nightmare’s neck instantaneously, which was barely avoided. Most physical attacks were rare between magically adept ponies, as under normal circumstances, a teleportation could always be responded to with another before the first completed, making it nearly impossible to predict where the opponent(s) would be. But Twilight had feinted a far more powerful spell by having her horn radiate for several seconds as opposed to less than one, catching Nightmare off guard. Nightmare took to the sky and scattered projectiles of massively varying devastation, forcing Twilight to avoid them with a much greater margin than she would otherwise. And she did, for a while, before Twilight summoned a giant astral hammer, simultaneously shielding and striking.

Their struggle had already wrecked several structures and scorched the ground, sending the few ponies who were still in Canterlot, fleeing. What was left was more reminiscent of a war than a brawl. Celestia watched on from under a shield, unmoving, terrified and torn. Discord meanwhile eagerly lapped in the deadly fireworks.

The fight became progressively scrappier and the pacing more erratic.There were spurts of multiple, complex spells, then things elapsed into a few rudimentary blobs of explosive magic, before being ramped up again.

Nightmare dropped a sword from the sky at Twilight, who was now airborne. She predicted Twilight would dodge horizontally, so Nightmare took flight herself, hoping to catch Twilight moving toward her, unprepared. Twilight waited and watched, counting the half-seconds she had until the metal impaled her and didn’t move before she had to. She didn’t get long; Nightmare and the sword met her at the same time. To Nightmare, Twilight did three things at once, swerving left, swung the sword in her mouth and shackled her wings. For the lavender alicorn, it was only one. Nightmare Moon blocked the sword and plummeted. Twilight’s hoof and entire magical might was on her horn before she’d hit the ground.

Twilight poised the sword above Nightmare’s chest. She asked her where she’d learned her aerial maneuvers; Twilight said it was from a friend called Rainbow Dash.

‘What do you want, Nightmare?’

‘A democracy, Twilight. A beautiful, glorious democracy.’

‘You think you can salvage a democracy from this?’

‘No, but you can.’

‘They’ll destroy themselves if I do.’

Apparently the only reason she’d bothered to stop the celestial cycle was to get Twilight’s attention. Nightmare asked for death and warned she’d continue the fight if left alive.

‘Do it, coward, you’ll only be killing a pony.’

Twilight drove blade to flesh with a terrible thunk.

She collapsed from exhaustion, and felt no tears roll down her cheek into the warm crimson pool under her. Who's the murderer now, Twilight? You are, that’s all you are. That’s what you wanted, that’s how you did it and that’s how it went. You’re no better than her, Twilight you never were. She just showed it to you. So you’ve done it. Are you happy? Did it feel good? Is Celestia pleased? Would Spike be proud? Will your dead friends accept you? Do you love who you are? They’ll kill you too, once they hear. They’ll hang you by the horn and watch it get yanked out of your skull. Celestia will be there, smiling. Everypony will be there, smiling. So will Owlicious. He won’t be smiling. And so will Cadence. And so will Shining Armour. They’ll be smiling. You’ll be okay, Twilight, but don’t smile. You didn’t enjoy this.

Celestia dully peered at Luna’s body. She remembered having a promise to keep, what was it? She couldn’t think of it now. She ripped the sword out of the corpse and considered it. Its shine was lost in the dripping blood; she kept it lusterless. It was only as she lay dying, she remembered the promise. She’d kept it.

A phoenix cawed in the distance.

1: Innocent Bickering

In deepest of forbidden archives, Twilight Sparkle felt a tear roll down her cheek. Celestia had told her not to go here, despite that she’d graduated from being Celestia’s student long ago. So many lifetime’s ago. Twilight assumed that this was what she meant, some warped way of “being ready” betraying her ex-mentor’s trust.

The lavender alicorn wiped her tears away, she couldn’t allow it to fall on the book. Literature in all it’s forms was still precious to her, if not more so than before. Though she was nearly blinded by her rage. How could she, seemingly so merciful have killed Philomena? Being a Queen herself, Twilight Sparkle understood the value of keeping it a secret, but even so...

It had been countless years since she’d taken the weight on her shoulders and her shoulders alone. She hated it. To her, they were symbols of the friends she’d left behind. Taunting, haunting reminders of her unnatural fate as well as her apparent powerlessness to stop it. Unlike the sisters, she was still young for an alicorn, she hadn’t been quite forced to abandon her empathy yet.

Cadence hadn’t been able to cope with the death of her husband. They’d bound her in chains and electric-shocks. They didn’t do any good. She found a way to escape from it all eventually, escape from everything. Twilight was almost the same, when all her fillyhood friends passed away. The sisters had pulled her back from the verge, but were secretly full of regret they’d let it come so far, nearly ruining their little project. Or at least, that’s how Miss Sparkle saw it. Against her better judgement, she still saw herself as delusional, clinging onto big sister Celestia, thinking she still had a place her in heart. But like the sisters’ regrets, it was kept in a shallow grave of the mind.

Twilight had slowly transitioned into a position of greater power than the sisters. They were now seen as pseudo-advisers to the queen. Twilight found herself storming toward the chamber in which Celestia conducted various affairs of the kingdom. Normally, the multitude of awkward looks she got from all the ponies who saw her state would have bothered her, instead she barged right on through. When she did reach Celestia, the guards and aids were wise enough to exit without a word. This wasn’t the first time Twilight had acted this way.

The place now devoid of other ears, Celestia disgruntledly addressed Twilight.

‘What has the little princess thrown a tantrum about?’

Twilight had conveniently brought the book with her; she threw its weight onto the floor in front of the other alicorn. It took several moments for Celestia to recognise it and when she did, her eyes widened considerably at first, but her expression quickly changed to the wry grin she’d come to know. In Twilight’s experience, she only made that expression when she was pleased. And pleased she was. For one reason or another, she could remember it being kinder in a time so far from now it was not worth thinking about. She did so anyway.

‘Is this what I think it is, Twilight? Did you finally muster up the courage to go where I told you not to?’

‘Why would you make me do it,’ she said, vulnerability and doubt hidden behind a dense veil of anger.

‘I didn’t make you do anything, Twilight. You did exactly what I told you not to by your own free will.’

‘Of course you did! It was another one of your stupid tests that you used to coax me into agreeing to bear the elements!’

‘You were never forced into any one of them. Blaming me won't help either of us, so don’t,’ Celestia said, tone edging onto something a little heavier.

Twilight huffed in frustration, before turning her attention back to the book on the floor. But Celestia spoke again, interrupting whatever the bearer might have been planning.

‘I must admit, I had expected you to find it before now.’

The pair had begun to slowly gravitate towards each other, taking little steps. Though perhaps this was only for the sake of convenience of the conversation.

‘And this too?’ Twilight was bitter that this, so far, had all come under Celestia’s grand scheme.

‘Suspending your disbelief would leave me in a powerful position...’

‘For Tartarus’s sake, answer me!’ Twilight took a heavy step forward; their faces mere inches away from each other, however Celestia remained sitting comfortably.

‘Grow up will you foal,’ she abandoned the throne and towered above the queen. But then, for once, something that Celestia had not expected to happen happened. Twilight hit her. Celestia slumped back on the throne again, more out of bewilderment than the force of the strike. That isn’t to say it didn’t hurt, but like just about everything in the pseudo-goddesses lifetime, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t felt the sting before. Her white coat was going to be as inconvenient as ever. To her mild surprise, the mare wasn’t galloping for the doors, or slinking back in shame, instead she just stood steadfast, glaring.

‘So it’s come to this has it, Twilight Sparkle?’ Twilight did not react whatsoever. ‘If you are so determined, I won’t resist. Ask me anything you’d like,’ Celestia said, pausing between sentences to explore her slightly numbed cheek.

Twilight carefully levitated the book containing the details of Philomena’s fate to her side.

‘Is everything in here true?’

The seated princess was hesitant, it was one of those inconvenient details that Discord had once loved to prey on and still did, she suspected. She waited as long as she could, just before Twilight would demand an answer again.

‘I don’t know. I-’

‘What do you mean you don’t know? You must know! You were the one that- that-’

‘Twilight,’ Celestia urged calm. ‘I don’t know, because I haven’t read it- now let me finish. I do try to be a mare of my word, you know that.’

To the Queen, this pattern of speech was eerily reminiscent to the one Luna had spoken to Philomena with, when she was explaining the terms the phoenix would be killed under. Her anger told her to ignore it.

‘In short, Lua insisted that I not read it.’

Twilight’s inability to catch Celestia where she did not want to be infuriated her to no end. She was convinced this godly perfection was an illusion conjured as a product of all the years Twilight had spent under Celestia’s teaching and yet she was also fearful of it. Once again, her anger told her to ignore it all.

‘I’ve always wondered if it was as terrible as she said...’

As Twilight had understood from the cursed tome and experienced herself, immortals didn’t get along very well. They were just so sick of each other, of their collective suffering... Of everything. She had thought a little about how it had been possible for the celestial sisters cope, but presumed that Luna too, had her own little banishing tricks. Lacking an obvious route to vent her directed frustration, the former unicorn kept the pressure up, now feeling the slightest bit guilty at the growing bruise on Celestia’s cheek.

‘It damn well was! You were a selfish tyrant back when you’d just banished your sister!’

‘This isn’t fair, Twilight. I have no idea what’s in that book.’

‘I don’t believe you!’

‘You don’t have to, but it doesn’t change anything. Don’t let your anger make you more of a fool than you are. You're better than that,’ Celestia said, slowly reaching towards the torn alicorn for an embrace.

‘Don’t you touch me,’ Twilight growled, leaping back. ‘Don’t you dare touch me.’

Celestia verged on breaking into venomous sarcasm, she’d had enough of this insolence. If Luna's rebellion had taught her anything, it was that behaviour like this needed to be crushed swiftly... But she couldn't bring herself to do it. She knew that out of all ponies, she shouldn't be struggling between what was empathetic and what was moral. So strange it was, to see the foal all grown-up. Instead of carrying out what she should with complete resolution, she started what she prayed she wouldn't be called to finish.

Celestia stood up from the throne, hid all tears and stared daggers at Twilight, all the while suppressing thoughts of sympathy, "mock" sympathy, so to speak.

When she caught her eyes, Celestia advanced, slowly, step by step, mane supposedly pulsating with anger. Not floating in an ethereal breeze, but whipping in thunder. Twilight steped back, step by step, pupils dilating breath quickening. Wings folding to their sides again, head lowering. Celestia knew that the jump from anger to fear was easy, especially for those with wings given out of trust. They both knew.

'Ce-Celestia... w-what are y-you doing?' Twilight cried out several times as her rump neared the door.

Celestia said nothing. She kept walking forward, perceiving each step as heavier than the last. The time it took for Twilight to reach the door ached for her, ached like when she'd killed the bird...

As an inevitability, Twilight did find herself against a closed door, too heavy to move with her physical strength alone. Her adviser approached with as more menace than she'd seen from her, from anyone. Though Celesita wasn't the absolute foundation she had been to Twilight, she was still a constant support; seeing her like this terrified her out of her mind. As if she hadn't been out of her mind with upset already.

To Celestia's great relief, Twilight teleported away. She wouldn't be called to finish what she'd begun. She wouldn't have to think about what she might have done. She could pretend that it would have been the right thing and that she'd done the right thing. It was much easier that way, so much easier. Luna could deal with her. Her sister had gotten better with Twilight as time had passed, which was quite to the contrary to how it had started out, curiously. Luna would know what Twilight was talking about, the blasted book had caused nothing but trouble.

In all the histrionics, Twilight had left the thing in the throne room. The blanched alicorn gazed at it with grim curiosity. Perhaps this was going to be of those instances where she broke her word...

An emotionally distraught Twilight blinked into existence in her personal chamber, utterly confused. She didn't know if she wanted to be fearful or angry at how the old teacher had acted.

Only a few minutes later, (she did not acknowledge it herself), Twilights' thoughts selflessly turned to the predicament of ruling today, in this disheveled state. What if there'd been an outbreak of parasprites; who would fix it? This was despite the fact that there had been no outbreak since she'd been a unicorn. Celestia had passed such duties over to her, but she might just break down in tears if she tried. And that would lead to negative press, and that would lead to-

'knock knock,' went the door.

'Your Highness? May I come in,' asked a voice so indistinct from the other servants' voices nopony could tell them apart. The only characteristics Twilight gleamed was that it was a stallions voice, if a slightly androgynous one.

Twilight needlessly panicked at the state her mane was in, heart thumping again, poor mare.

'Just a moment!'

Twilight checked her draw, that was where placed her comb every morning... But it wasn't there, because she hadn't placed the comb this morning, she'd talked with Celestia instead. Twilight flinched at that. 'Spares spares spares,' she kept repeating in her head, trying to connect the word to object, heart continually lurching into places it should not.

'If your highness is concerned about her appearance, there is no need. There is a message for you, I will slip it under the door.'

The patient servant was about to drop the small piece of paper he held by his teeth, but the Queen hastily opened the door. Holding objects others would be touching inside the mouth was uncouth and unsanitary, apparently.

'Oh no, I can't let you do that can I?!'

It was fortunate the nameless stallion was one of the more disciplined in his profession. Twilight looked and sounded like she'd just run a marathon, or flown an equivalent, as the case may have been. He couldn't stop himself gawking, but gave the note and left before it was remarked upon, or hopefully, noticed. He also couldn't stop himself from thinking the Queen had been doing something more pleasurable! Twilight was oblivious. All she could form in her uncharacteristically chaotic mind, was that this was going to be one of those days. Not to say that she'd read the book before, or that she'd fallen out with Celestia to this extent.

The note read:

Dearest Twilight, I'm extremely sorry you're so upset, I would have told you earlier if I knew what was in that book. I will take care of your duties for the day; I suggest you speak with Luna if you remain unsatisfied. I mean no harm.

Celestia's writing was evidently more laconic than her speech.

2: Hollow Threats

For once, Twilight was happy to take a day off. Her room was a mess, she was a mess -- everything that was supposed to be organised was a mess. Like an old mare (which she technically was) she took a nap; her last thoughts questioned Luna's sympathy for the dead phoenix.

Of course, the contents of the note was strange and hypocritical but Twilight was too heavily burdened with the events of the day to process it yet.

It was dusk when she woke, so much for a healthy sleep pattern. The long nap and bed had done their job in partially clearing Twilight's head. Unused to lacking a clear objective, Twilight defaulted to trotting to the palace library. She didn't make lists anymore. Spike didn't make lists anymore.

Luna being the introvert she is, was reading some obscure novel and nursing a bottle of dauntingly strong alcohol. Her usual nocturnality made sure of that. Even an a vivid imagination couldn't conjure talking stars, or a healthy one at least.

Twilight was somewhat ambivalent upon seeing her. For all she had learned from the book, she couldn't help but feel there was something more, something that even Philomena had not dreamed of, could not have dreamed of.

Luna's head swiveled to face Twilight, but didn't raise an eyebrow.

'Up with the birds?' Twilight said as she briskly sat next to the dark alicorn.

'Diurnality is winning today,' Luna said, listless.

That was when Twilight saw the unopened bottle. She disapproved of its presence in the library, but had grown tactful enough not to push it. There were more important matters to peruse.

'I read it,' Twilight stated flatly.

'Read what?'

'The book, the book with a blank cover.'

Luna immediately put down her own book and took a swig.

'I'm sorry.'

'Sorry for what, Luna?'

'Sorry you came across such pathetic, selfish drivel.'

Twilight stared agape for several seconds.

'Why?'

Luna took another swig, trying to imagine she wasn't having this conversation. It was she who'd killed her really.

'Why what, Twilight? Why did the conditions exist? Why did we kill her? Why do I sit before you now? Why do you ask? I had thought you precise.'

'Just why everything.'

Luna snorted in mock amusement.

'You're going to have to do better than that. I'm not exactly enjoying this, in case you couldn't tell,' Luna said, surely delaying the inevitable.

Twilight frowned, concerned this would be no more fruitful than her angry dance with Celestia.

'In that case, could you tell me just why both you and your sister are so unwilling to talk about this?'

Luna rolled her glazed eyes.

'You talked with her? She hasn't even read it.'

Twilight hoped good things came to those who waited. Eventually, after minutes of Luna sadly eyeing the bottle, she spoke again, apparently irritated at what these memories brought her. In truth it was a lot more than irritation.

'Tia came to me, distraught that an old phoenix friend was requesting death. She told me, she'd met her when I was gone, banished.' Luna took a deep breath. 'I was nonchalant. I said, "kill the bird if she wants." She said about her meaning something to her. I told her it made no difference. She said the bird was mad. I told her it made no difference. She said I was mad. I told her it made no difference. I told her, I'd do it for her and that was that. We concluded it wouldn't harm us so long as we kept it secret, but it isn't anymore, obviously.'

'So if you want to blame somepony, blame me, Twilight,' Luna concluded, now starting at nothing in particular.

Twilight cradled an infernal wrath once more, but steeled herself to find out everything before she let it spill out. That had been her mistake last time; she wouldn't repeat it. Spike had told her to learn from her mistakes.

'But it was you who had it written.'

'My sister to be exact. Her thinking for it was beyond me, but I let it go. It's barking at me.'

The past was never dead for those who lived forever. Luna liked to whisper to herself that the rules mortals held, "law" couldn't be applied to immortals in the same sense. For the timeless suicide wasn't merely a permanent solution to a temporary problem, it was greater, infinitely more tragic; the end to a means unknown. This was the standard block she took shelter in from a storm, a violent, roiling storm.

Luna took yet another throat scorching gulp.

'More questions, or am I in peace?'

'Why did you have Celestia not read it?'

'For the same reason you hadn't read it. It's useless for all purposes. I'd have burned it to a cinder if Tia wasn't so silly. A big, fat pile of ash.'

'How dare you speak such lies! I won't fall for this-this balderdash, no matter how fastly you and your sister stick to it! Why are you trying to deceive me like this? Are you so afraid of me that I can't know the truth? Is that it? Are you so drunk that you think I can't tell? I'll uncover it, whatever you're hiding from me, I'll find it! And when I do, you're not going to be here anymore, never!'

Luna said, 'I've got a moon to raise' quite casually, before vanishing to space unknown, along with her bottle of course.

Oh how it angered her, how it made her blood boil, how it drove her to ideas so raw! Tropes raw in both detail and scale - primitive and dark. As if she should be feeling guilt for them, as if she should be ashamed by them! They were utterly unblemished in their sweet menace. It made her giddy! And though she was uncertain if she should seize them, as attractive as they were, she was already bathing in their fuzzy warmth. It was a comforting, encompassing warmth.

3: Bad Sleep

Celestia exchanged few words with her clearly intoxicated sister, though telepathically the equivalent of many more. She gathered that Twilight had indeed spoken to her and it had not gone well. But 'No matter,' she thought, it would be easier when she had read the book stowed securely in a draw. Maybe she'd finally agree to burn it when she'd read it, as Lu(n)a had asked for many times. She must have had a point to push for it so insistently.

Luna eventually raised the moon after she bade her sister farewell, temporarily blocking out all worries in concentration. It was then she realised just how much weight they carried. She was under no illusions as to what Twilight could and would do if she succeeded in lying to herself - fabricating a truth where there was none to be found. Losing influence over the throne would not be devastating in itself, Twilight Sparkle was as benevolent as her sister, but there had been a diarchy for good reason. In a pact formed eons past, the sisters had sworn to reserve means to ‘limit’’ the other should either of them no longer be fit for the throne, which was as ominous as it sounded. But there were no such means to ‘limit’ Twilight, nor guidance in times of need. The relatively young alicorn was progressing to ever greater magical prowess; it wouldn’t be long until it was greater than that of the sisters combined. It was all deeply troubling for Luna, who just wanted everypony to get along.

Twilight Sparkle woke again to face the daily grind. Talk to a mayor here, sign a few documents there, approve minor reforms that would normally accumulate into a collective advantage. Those working close to her dare not comment about her absence yesterday beyond meager questions like ‘How are you feeling today,’ or ‘It’s pleasant to see you again, Your Majesty.’ The Queen held a strange place among many ponies, for it was remembered she did not exist from time immemorial, yet none could seem to challenge her wisdom. In part, this ‘encouraged’ Twilight to aspire to exert a mien of subtle superiority over the gradually waning sisters. This effect was greatly amplified now she believed there may be a just cause to speed up the transition of ruler(s). But Twilight Sparkle wasn’t a bad pony, oh no! She’d have to find a truth she knew existed, even if it were to mean employing less than admirable methods. ‘It was for the greater good,’ she adored the sound of that. It sounded like just this one stallion, in this one book, in this one parable about hubris.

Celestia meanwhile finished the book with a frown. To her, it appeared as though poor Twilight had been corrupted by the literature of a doomsayer. Yet for all the books upon books the young alicorn had read, she hadn’t reacted this way before. Finding a complicated cause to a complicated problem took time, time she and Luna might not have. Twilight would be too shrewd to give them time.

Everypony was paranoid.

Twilight Sparkle found herself scheming when she could; it was quite fun for an act so malicious, but it wasn’t, it was for the greater good. Inconveniently enough it was during this offtime when Celestia had asked they meet in the garden.

It was a pretty garden, with its perfectly trimmed flora surrounding a marble table in the centre so that the shadow it cast remained almost the same at all times of the day. Contrasting many of the other spaces in the palace, in the garden, there wasn’t a guard to be seen.

‘Good afternoon,’ Twilight said, sitting opposite of Celestia.

‘Good afternoon, Twilight,’ Celestia said, looking over the brim of a cup.

‘Would you like some tea?’

‘No, thank you.’ Twilight refused as an excessive precaution - it wouldn’t taste funny if she didn’t drink it. Even she thought of it as excessively precautious at this stage.

‘How are you faring?’

‘I’m alright as always, mentor.’

Celestia shifted uncomfortably at the archaic address, though her ears were unmoving.

‘You... haven’t called me that for years.’

‘It’s good to study the past as a guide for the future sometimes.’

This particular lesson had not been in any of the numerous letters she once wrote to her ‘mentor.’

‘Why am I here, Celestia?’

The princess levitated the book with a blank cover from underneath the table and let it rest on top of it.

‘You should put this back in the black archives,’ Celestia suggested.

‘Never to be read again?’

‘Hopefully not.’

Celestia spoke again, ‘I’d like to know how far you’d go to find this truth that evades even the ponies you seem to think know it all.’

‘That’s none of your business.’

‘It’s my business if you’re going to follow through with your threat you made to my sister.’

Twilight took her time mulling over practicalities; it made Celestia uneasy.

‘Oh, Celestia, you must learn to get off my back!’ Twilight said with a giggle, before girlishly bounding away taking the book with her. Celestia didn’t stop her, reminded of the pain, but not out of it. She sighed, suddenly reluctant to face the potential maelstrom this might become.

It was unusual for Twilight to flee from her woes, even if she had been doing more often than she would prefer lately. Or at least it was according to the cumulative sum of actions that made (her) personality. Twilight Sparkle didn’t know what to do exactly. For all her clever mind could muster, she was dwarfed by the hurdle of there being very few ponies if any willing to usurp such popular rulers. So far her scheming had consisted of vague yet grand plots to conveniently make some rather large adjustments, but that wasn’t good enough. She would find no productivity merely basking on impulses. But it wasn’t easy, trying to be her clever old self at the end of a day of exhausting diplomacy. As a result of this ever so slight inconvenience, progress was slower than she would have liked, though progress it was nonetheless. However, her recent “change in priorities” from managing the kingdom to whatever else she could be doing didn’t go unnoticed.

Doubtful talk brewed among the few acolytes who had the privilege of working directly with the great scholar Twilight Sparkle. Not only did she come across as strangely distant when addressed, she was fairly flippant on matters that were otherwise considered not flippant in the slightest. This was particularly vulgar for her advisers when they discussed changes that would sweep the entire kingdom; some of them were disgruntled or otherwise perturbed enough to seek council with Celestia. They all came back with vague promises and acute reassurances, much to their grander loathing. It was too late before they resolved to take a firmer stand...

On the same afternoon, Celestia woke her sister early.

‘Whyyyy are you waking me up so early,’ Luna groaned into her pillow.

‘There are important matters to discuss, Lua.’

‘But there’s hours of daylight to go!’

‘I’ll be in the observatory,’ she said, promptly leaving Luna nopony to complain to, for now.

A mention of ‘the observatory’ brought Luna out of her semi-slumbering state. The place was supposed to be her shelter from the world; Celestia knew it. Eventually, Luna went to greet (and more importantly scold) her sister.

‘Tia, does it have to be here? I say this with respect, but you know how I prefer not to desecrate my observatory with general equine affairs.’

‘It’s important.’

Luna stared at the alicorn who didn’t belong.

‘Hurry up then, what’s so important?’

Celestia lowered her head slightly in an effort to pull Luna out of such a confrontational manner.

‘I fear our little Queen means to take action against you, perhaps us.’

‘I thought the threat was hollow, we can all get a little angry at times.’ Luna said.

‘We can, but there’s something else this time, Lua. I have a great deal to explain - there is a great deal to be explained.’

‘She’s not-’

‘No of course not.’

‘It would be unlike her anyway,’ Luna said as an afterthought.

Celestia proceeded to explain her reasons for, as well as her reading of the book with a blank cover. Luna wasn’t angry.

‘I’m not seeing why this is so important, Tia, we haven’t got any more reason to suspect Twilight then before.’

Twilight Sparkle had made copies of a book belonging to the black archives.

In fact, Twilight was just about the only pony capable of such a feat. All scriptures banished there to effectively never be read again were entrapped in obscure and strong magicks to prevent this very action from ever occurring. Both the royal sisters had contributed their own magical wards, though seemingly to no avail. To great fortune or misfortune however, Celestia had been able to sense and pinpoint one of many careful unweavings. This was when talks with Twilight became as difficult as balancing on a knife’s edge.

The existence of the black archives was a secret among all but royalty and a few dead proteges, so there was very little the princesses could do even if they wanted. As a result of millenias of continuous benevolent rule, no laws apprehended the potential for the abuse of regal power. Granted, after a authoritarian mess, the sisters might be able to put Twilight in jail for a unicorn’s lifetime only for her to (surely) rise against them again, granted rigour anew. The lack of legislation and warping relations left everypony in a bit of a bind. Luna and Celestia dreaded what the public’s reaction would be as Twilight was no Nightmare-Moon, she wasn’t on a “silly” crusade for celestial dominance, she wanted justice.

With Luna’s moon glaring at her, Twilight was busy making sure her tracks were covered. She’d done her best to muffle the noise unbinding such powerful locks produced; she hoped it had been enough. With a copy of the text free of invasive wills, she could easily make more and send them to vassals throughout the land; they would see her point of view. They would rally under Twilight’s banner, anypony who didn’t was just as good as those two. They would fight against the injustice that had befallen Philomena. They’d win.

The world shimmered in an old Ponyville, impalpable. Its sky swirled violently, a deep crimson where there shone neither sun nor moon. Neither of the only two mares that inhabited this place could tell exactly where they stood because they didn’t stand anywhere in particular. Time didn’t pass as it normally did, instead all events were melded into an experience often forgotten. Here was the barren plain Twilight Sparkle never remembered.

Asymmetrical flashes of blue spurted from heaven and earth, joining to form the wavy shape of an alicorn. Her mane appeared to be made of the same fabric as the vague surroundings, while Twilight Sparkle's appeared as it normally did, not that she realised.

‘Where are we,’ Twilight asked the figure she couldn’t quite recognise.

‘In a dream,’ the figure answered.

‘But I don’t have dreams!’

‘That’s what you say every time.’

Twilight took a moment to try, but fail to examine what was around her. Nothing existed when focused upon.

‘I want something of you, Twilight Sparkle.’

The figure was not so much a pony anymore as an omnipresent being, piercing through all senses and senses previously unknown. Its demand echoed with power, shattering illusions while conjuring its own.

‘You’re going to tell me the aim for the forgery you made.’ Twilight sat, overwhelmed and shocked at her bottomless vulnerability in front of God. ‘I won’t ask again nicely,’ the thing said as the dreamscape began to distort into a nightmare, Twilight’s nightmare.

‘Wait, wait! I’ll tell you, just, don’t bring me there, please! Please don’t bring me there.’ As if the voice was the dream itself, the transformation from old Ponyville to a mass grave stopped midway, leaving jutting tombstones.

‘I’m going to get the buffaloes and griffins on my side by sending them copies of the writing and then the mayors and whoever else might be willing to help! That’s all, I promise! I swear that’s all!’

‘Good, you’ve given me all I wished from you, Twilight.’

Quiet suddenly, old Ponyville was back. Twilight was still shivering, suffocating in a feeling of complete desperation. If time was applicable here, it would have been days before she questioned the figure who wasn’t exactly a figure.

‘Are you... Luna?’ Twilight perceived herself as talking to nopony yet everypony at the same time. The figure took a far more earthly shape, turning into a filly with blue eyes.

‘Well done! It’s rare when you guess,’ said the filly, merrily bouncing around the dumbstruck mare. Twilight wept for the end of innocence.

And then she was awake, harbouring memories of a rough sleep. She had a lot of those.

4: Through No Fault Of Her Own

Luna didn’t tell Celestia what she had learned. Like Twilight, she was doubting her own motivations. Did she want everypony to get along, was all that what she wanted? Was she going to take action over the rebellious alicorn? Was she simply apathetic? Nopony knew, not even herself. To some extent, she enjoyed the ambiguity; it was scarce. Strangely enough there did exist laws limiting her power to manipulate the dreams of other ponies, but they were as obtuse as they were unenforceable.

Celestia, out of fear, love, or both left things as they were.The sisters as a collective were as indecisive as a mule deliberating between two stacks of hay. They carried on as if Twilight didn’t exist until they couldn’t.

Twilight true to her subconscious sent copies and requests to support ousting the royal sisters to various rulers in the kingdom and beyond. Over a period of weeks she received the replies. The Griffin kingdom, Baltimare and Trottingham accepted the call. But Yanhoover refused, so did the Buffaloes and with an irony that made her nauseous, so did Ponyville. She didn’t bother sending a copy to the mayor of Canterlot. There weren't enough signatures, nowhere near enough, and Twilight knew that wishing otherwise wouldn’t change that. She needed to do more than wish.

On the following sundown, Twilight presented the list to a tired Celestia, adding “With wroth sentiments, Twilight Sparkle and supporters.”

The solar goddess raised a cynical eyebrow before brushing the petition aside.

‘They won’t wage war and neither will you, Twilight. What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Won’t I, dear Celestia?’

Twilight advanced, with different intentions than when Celestia had done so. For an instant, the beginnings of purple wisps flickered around her eyes. Celestia understandably became anxious, looking at everything except the pony looming in front of her.

‘Would you do the same to me if I asked? No, of course you wouldn’t! I’m too much of a precious student to you, Celestia! You’ve put too much work into raising me, as your little workhorse, doing all these royal chores for your convenience!’

Now the guards were anxious. ‘You're scaring me, Twilight,’ Celestia said, cowering in a corner.

‘I’d fucking hope so! That’s what you deserve, you worthless piece of filth! You fucking murderer, you craven murderer!’

Luna strode in, froze for an instant, then interrupted Twilight.

‘Leave her alone, I told you, she’s not to blame for Philomena.’

‘She fucking killed her! Of course she’s to blame! I don’t care what you told her, she cast the spell, nothing else matters!’

Celestia started to speak-

‘No, Tia, this is my fault, I’ll mend it as best as I can,’ Luna interrupted, voice shaking. She turned back to Twilight.

‘Twilight, we’re going somewhere else.’

At that Luna took Twilight with her, back to a turquoise pocket-realm Twilight hadn’t been to since she was wingless all that time ago. Dots of both yellow and white appeared to be at an endless distance , not changing in size or brightness wherever Twilight or Luna went. Similar to a boundary of the mind Luna played in, the floor ceiling and walls were constructed by will, at will, though they were always invisible here. They both sat upon a floor.

‘Let me out of this place, I’m not a unicorn anymore.’

‘Not until you’ve calmed down.’

‘Fuck you.’

Luna shrugged.

‘You're justified in your anger, Twilight. I killed a memory for you, didn’t I? You remembered Philomena as Celestia’s-’

‘Stop putting your words in my head, stop it right now or I might just get angry at you too.’

‘Feel free to, I’m the one who deserves it.’

‘Oh shut up with this self-deprecating crap, Luna. Your sister deceived me and my friends.’

Twilight ground her jaw.

‘I can’t deny that it was Celestia who conceived the terms. If you want me to get philosophical Twilight, I think what’s hardest to accept about the passage of time is how the friends we once loved about end up in brackets.’

‘I don’t give a damn what you think! Am I fucking calm enough for you yet, am I?! I didn’t fucking think so! I’m going to have to wait here until you’re satisfied I won’t break your sister’s neck the moment I leave!’

‘Come now, Twilight, you’re too kind to do that. You're not the same as me, who’d kill anyone who asked. I think you’ve demonstrated that.’

‘Demonstrated it by trying to overthrow you?’

‘It’s true!’ Luna chuckled.

Twilight didn’t say anything, deciding to turn the anger onto herself. She was crying; she could have sworn familiarity, though she hadn’t cried more than a tear of sorrow for decades. There was no doubt it was familiar, but how could it be? It couldn’t be, and yet it was.

‘Are you happy now?’

‘No, but I am relieved to see we’re all alive. Philomena would be glad.’

Luna cautiously edged closer to the griever.

‘What am I to you, Luna, a foal throwing a tantrum?’

‘I thought you didn’t care for my thoughts.’

‘...I don’t.’

Luna gradually extended a wing over Twilight, pulling them closer into a tight embrace. Typically it was a gesture seen among loving pegasi or griffins as wings were very fragile things. Twilight didn’t know what to feel, Luna’s touch sickened her, but was the only warmth she had. To her slight reluctance, her sobbing died down.

‘Do I have dreams?’

Luna shivered at the question, as if she were alone in the limitless expanse; innocent Twilight snuggled closer, thinking she really was cold.

‘Do you, Twilight?’

‘Well I don’t remember them, that’s for sure.’

‘You do have them, sometimes.’

‘What are they like,’ she chirped excitedly.

‘I rarely look at dreams, unless it’s a dream of turmoil. Yours are mostly ones you wouldn’t want to remember, they're upsetting, even for me... Through no fault of your own, of course.’

It was funny, Twilight jumped at seemingly false alarms and let genuine untruths pass on by. Through no fault of her own, of course.

‘It’s the same with Celestia's, I suppose it comes with the life.’

‘Are you going to let me out?’

‘Are you going to kill my sister?’

‘For once, I’m not sure either way.’

‘Then there’s one more thing I’d like to remind you of, if I may.’

‘Whatever you say, mother,’ Twilight said, disgruntledly shuffling under Luna’s wing.

‘I’ll make it quick then. You don’t have to lead this life if you don’t want to. I’m sure neither I nor Celestia would object if you chose to leave now. We wouldn’t hold it against you; the burden you hold is not to be envied. My sister has elaborated to me in great detail as to what carrying all of harmony on your meager shoulders does to you. You could really be anypony you wanted to after that, or nopony at all.’

‘And if I did give the elements away; who’d take my place?’

Luna was pleased to hear the question.

‘It’d be your choice, though I feel it would be a little unfair to hurl them onto my sister again. I’d be alright taking them on, I suppose. I’m the only one out of the three of us who hasn’t carried them, aren’t I? It’d only be fair for me to take them.’

There was a silent interlude.

‘So, are we done?’

‘You may want to apologise to my sister and yes, we’re done.’

They faded back to the empty chamber.

Luna had been successful in mitigating a substantial portion of Twilight’s anger, diverting the blame for Philomena’s killing away from Celestia and toward Luna. But she couldn’t be wroth at Luna, she just couldn’t.

In the coming days Twilight did indeed apologise to Celestia and though accepting, she was perturbed it hadn’t come sooner. Celestia showed her the bruise was long gone as was any punishment for it and she was simply glad they hadn’t ‘lost’ Twilight.

‘Lost, as in try to rule for eternal low-light?

Celestia shot her a glare and Twilight rolled her eyes in response.

‘What, is it still raw? You’re never going to get over it at this rate!’’

‘I don’t think it would be beneficial for me to get over it. It helps me ensure it won’t happen again. Not allowing your power to cloud your judgement is all I can ask of you as the sole bearer of harmony. I asked little more of myself when I held them.’

‘Right, Tia, right.’

Celestia offhoofedly changed the subject.

‘Luna said you were considering leaving the regal life altogether.’

‘I'm only playing with it for now.’

‘It’s a spiky toy.’

‘I know.’

Twilight smiled.

‘I was going to inform you regardless, but Discord’s free again.’

‘Oh no, he isn’t wreaking chaos already is he?’

‘No, quite the opposite! He’s been patiently waiting for you for nearly a day now, doing nothing except wave at the guards, occasionally who were rather alarmed. He’s different, Twilight he’s... timid.’

After some extensive persuasion, Celestia convinced Twilight they were referring to the same being. Confuzzled, Twilight trotted on down to the royal garden to meet him.

When Discord had last been free, he’d entered a frenzy once his beloved Fluttershy passed on, destroying countless acres of both rural and urban scape alike before adorning them with a flutter of butterflies. As a result the mad god had spurred Twilight to petrify him once more, with the full power harmony invoked. He’d completely razed some cities, turned others into villages and scarred the land so deeply that evidence of it still remained. Enigmatic fissures and craters were left as a testament to the rage of Discord. Somehow he’d escaped again.

Twilight found him quickly - he wasn’t exactly hard to spot, even though he appeared remarkably similar as he did when he was a statue. Bold Robins were perched on his head boasting their brave exploration of the new object while the warblers on his limbs were quiet. Twilight didn’t know what to say to him; they hadn’t departed under the kindest of circumstances.

‘Hello.’

Twilight talked to him like he was on the other end of a device transmitting the voice.

‘Hello, hello hello’ Twilight said a little louder.

‘Hush, my dear, you’re going to scare off the birds.’

Twilight sat opposite him, observing the avians. It was several minutes before one of them spoke again.

‘Aren’t pleased to be here again, Discord?’

‘Oh yes, very pleased’ he said with as much vim as a dead frog.

‘You don’t sound like you are.’

‘Maybe you should trust me for once in your long life. I’m hopelessly at your mercy.’

He effortlessly conjured an oversized tear and let it roll down his pointed cheek.

‘My friends don’t seem to mind me,’ he said, eyes flicking to the creatures perched. ‘But I’ve never understood animals, not like you, and many others. They’ve always interested me in that sense.

‘Always is quiet the span.’

‘It’s only as far as I care to think about, Twilight. Isn’t it the same for you?’

‘I suppose.’

Twilight unconsciously turned the question she had been facing onto Discord.

‘What are you going to do?’

Discord thought.

‘Twilight, I believe you’re Queen now, correct?’

‘Its more complicated than that.’

‘And you want to leave?’

Twilight frowned a grumpy frown.

‘How did you know that?’

‘I had to strain my ears.’

She snorted in disbelief.

‘In truth, my dear, I’d like to go with you.’

Twilight spluttered in incredulity!

‘You scared the birds away. That’s not nice,’ he said.

‘You want to travel with me? The mare who turned you into stone, seriously? You’d be interested in my affairs like that?’

No longer concerned he’d scare the birds off, Discord slinked himself over the mare. When he replied, it was from the position of his head laying on the ground, gazing up at Twilight.

‘Well I was interested in Fluttershy, wasn’t I? Can’t I be interested in you too? Or will you cruelly cast me aside?’

‘I’d like it if you weren’t interested in me in the same sense you were interested in her,’ Twilight said, repulsed.

Discord chuckled heartily.

‘You can imprison me if I try! Throw me into one of your little cute dungeons, that’d be a laugh!’

‘I see you two are getting along,’ Celestia said, strolling into the garden.

‘Yes we’re having a ball, Tia!’ Discord exclaimed, struggling to contain his mirth.

‘Be cautious, Twilight you’ve seen what he’s capable of.’

‘I’m not sure what’s changed, but you’re right, he is different. He’s harmless.’

‘Just, be careful... You shouldn’t trust him.’

Celestia was secretly shocked they were able to hold a conversation, let alone trust one another.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll keep him in check.’

‘So how’s life been, Tia? All your little ponies getting along, no wars?’

‘None at all thanks to Twilight.’

She would have gone over to her to give her a friendly nuzzle, but she wasn’t particularly keen to get any closer to Discord then she needed to.

‘How boresome! I might just spice things up for her, if that’s the case.’

‘Don’t you dare, or you’ll be stone before blood’s spilt,’ Celestia snapped.

‘Come on, I’m just pulling your leg Tia! You don’t need to give me your despotic sentiments every time I’m having fun,’ he said, head now resting on Twilight’s side.

‘Oi, she’s right,’ Twilight said.

Discord gave an irritated grunt.

5: So What's The Deal, Princess?

Twilight pondered leaving her post for several months, while Discord constantly nagged her to make her mind up. She had to admit, the idea of having a companion appealed to her, albeit with a tinge of nostalgia. Discord was neither an Owlicious or a Spike, but more sympathetic than they ever had been. Perhaps she’d meet the dragon again; perhaps he wouldn’t recognise her... Twilight wondered if she’d end up like Philomena, sickeningly lonely and depressed. But if she did, was it undesirable? For however strong she felt in the present; the future was prone to break. It was prone to break promises, prone to break friendships and prone to break ponies. She feared she wouldn’t have the courage to witness the world end, Philomena clearly hadn’t and the phoenix had suffered more, far more than she. Discord reassured her that wanderlust was natural for curious minds, especially for a pony who’d read far too much and lived far too little, in his eyes.

And before they’d even gone frolicking, Twilight held Discord in high esteem. She admired him for overcoming the greatest challenge someone could face: his own nature. If asked about his change of heart, as Twilight often did, Discord would attribute all to the mare who trusted him where others did not. He’d say, ‘How was I supposed to “be nice” when I faced universal prejudice, that neither the common folk or sisters or you, Twilight, could see past?’ Twilight wisely pointed out Luna would be stuck in a similar crisis, if Celestia wasn’t there to forgive.

She made up her mind.

‘What you're doing, Twilight Sparkle, is how Philomena started! Please listen to me - listen to reason! You know the way you reacted, when your friends, more so your brother... You’ll come begging for me, and I won’t be able to help you, I couldn’t possibly help you!’

Like a big sister, she embraced Celestia with all her might and whispered in her ear saying ‘If it comes to that, I won’t come here. I would never make you suffer like that. For all the threats I made, I’d never do that. Not in a million years. I’ll be okay anyway, you silly filly.’

Celestia, Princess Of The Sun grieved guiltlessly.

‘Quiet now, you’re going to make me cry.’

Despite her best efforts, Twilight’s coat got soaked in more than one set of tears.

‘I’m... going to miss you. I’m not sure I can stand without you. You mean too much to me.’

The mare bit her lip when Celestia looked away.

‘You're strong. You’ve ruled a millennia by yourself, me going on a vacation won’t knock you over. I don’t think anything could. You’ll be fine, oh-wise-one.’

They sat still for a long time.

‘Will you visit us sometimes?’

‘Always and forever, Celestia. I won’t stop loving you, wherever I go.’

‘I’ll give the elements to your sister, if that’s alright.’

‘Whatever my little pony wants. Oh I’m going to miss you so much!’

Celestia hugged her.

‘So long, mailmare.’

‘Goodbye, Twilight.’

She kissed her for a brief moment, before leaving with a sassy swish of her tail.

Luna found three objects on her desk: The crown of harmony, a letter and the book she’d scribed.

Thank you for enlightening me, Luna I wouldn’t have realised what I wanted without you, or at least not until much later. I’m sorry for not giving you a proper goodbye, but I said most of what I wanted to you in the ether. Please look after your sister, she’ll desperately need your help for a while after I’m gone.

Eager to see you again, Twilight Sparkle.

It read like a suicide note.

She had the crown, staring at her from across the bed. She had it. Luna lifted it, examined it and placed it on her head.

‘My sister, I’ve done a terrible thing.’

‘You're a twisted piece of work.’

Discord suddenly appeared in the corner, sneering.

‘You can talk.’

‘Yes, you would say that. Though I’d have done it too, once upon a time. You went into her dreams didn’t you? The Twilight Sparkle I knew would never have left the post if it didn’t benefit her studies, or her people.’

‘I’ve been doing so, ever since she read about Philomena’s fate. It was rather wicked of me to influence her in such a manner, I suppose.’

‘You’re not joking... So what’s the deal, Princess?’

‘That depends on what you tell her.’

‘Oh I remember you, Nightmare Moon, now you’re more even manipulative than before! You're like an abomination straight out of Sombra’s doors.’

‘Don’t misunderstand me, I have nothing against her.’

‘Of course not,’ Discord droned.

‘I can give her a few years to play, if she wants.’

‘I imagine she would.’

‘Then all you have to do is to not speak a word of this to anyone, or try to stop me. You know what’ll happen then.’

‘Rest in peace, turned to stone for a valiant cause.’

‘Exactly.’

‘May you be too haunted to sleep.’

Discord returned to his pony-friend, Philomena be damned.