Ghosts of Gods

Chapters

Cigarettes, Coffee, and Cheap, Red Wine
Everything Dies, Baby; That's a Fact
Ghosts of Gods
Magnificent Failures
Defy
Given anything
Mother
Ghost Pain
Iron and Salt
Home
Voices in the Void

Cigarettes, Coffee, and Cheap, Red Wine

A knock sounded at Luna's door.

“If it's anypony other than my dear sister, I'm going to break two or three of their legs!” she said sweetly, lifting a mascara wand to her eye.

“Of course it's me,” came Celestia's muffled voice from beyond the heavy door. Somehow, Luna could actually hear her sister's eyes rolling in the mere tone of her response.

“In that case,” said Luna, “I'll make it all four.”

She opened the door telekinetically.

“By all means,” said Celestia, stepping into her sister's bedchamber, “let's have a knock-down, drag-out fight over me disturbing you while you were applying your makeup. We'll just raze Canterlot right to the ground. It'll make for some exquisite headlines, and probably a lively novelization a few years down the road.”

“As long as we get started on Canterlot Boulevard,” said Luna, “I'm all for it.” She moved the wand to the other eye.

“Are we ever going to stop this?” asked Celestia.

“Gods, I hope not,” said Luna. “It's all that gets me out of bed, some afternoons.”

“Really?” asked Celestia, “and here I thought it was making sure the tides didn't cause catastrophic coastal flooding.”

“Do I live on the coast?” asked Luna.

“No,” said Celestia, ”but quite a few ponies do, believe it or not."

“Really, now?” asked Luna. “It's their ass if I forget to set my alarm clock, isn't it?”

“Your benevolence never ceases to astonish,” said Celestia, “but I have something important for you to do, tonight.”

“On a Saturday?” asked Luna, checking one side of her face in the mirror, then the other.

“Yes,” said Celestia. “I went to Ponyville earlier to tell Twilight Sparkle's friends that she's been returned to civilization. I'm sure you remember Shimmershine?”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Ah, you do; he's having nightmares. Might want to give that a once-over.”

“Indeed,” said Luna, morosely.

***

Rainbow Dash awoke with several faces in her field of vision. Slowly, she began to recognize them; Fleet Foot, Rapid Fire, and Soarin. There was also the doctor the Wonderbolts kept on-site at all their shows.

“Wha... Where am I?”

“You pulled a few too many Gs, cap'n,” said Rapid Fire.

“What do you mean?” she asked, attempting to sit up. The crowd cheered to see signs of movement, and she vaguely understood the announcer saying something to the effect that she seemed to be okay. Then, she fell back once more onto her back. The crowd gave a massive gasp, and now she clearly understood the announcer's voice echoing once more in the loud speaker: “or not.”

She raised a hoof, and gave the stands a wave. She was rewarded with a chorus of cheering identical to the first.

“Did I black out?” she asked, reaching up to rub at her throbbing temple. She realized at the touch of her hoof that the hood of her uniform had apparently been pulled back by somepony, probably in an effort to get her some more air.

“Hard,” said Soarin.

“Wicked hard,” said Fleet Foot. “You went out just when you were about to break the sound barrier on that Rainboom.”

“Then why am I not having this conversation from a coffin?” she asked, plainly.

“Fleet Foot and Rapid Fire caught you,” said Soarin. “Damned impressive, if you could have seen it.”

“I guess that makes us even, then,” she said, and sat up, once more. This time, she was able to keep herself upright.

“Soarin, take lead, and finish the show. Just used simplified formations.”

“Aye aye,” said the big stallion.

“I'm gonna go lie down,” said Rainbow Dash.

“Actually, you need to come back to my office for a complete exam,” said the doctor, a dark yellow unicorn stallion with brown mane and a mustache. “Standard procedure.”

“I'm fine,” said Rainbow Dash.

“Maybe,” said the doctor, “but regulations won't allow you to fly again until you've been examined.”

“Let's get this over with, then,” she huffed.

An hour later, she was sitting on an examination bench in the doctor's office.

He had scanned her with every machine and spell at his disposal, and was was scribbling something on a chart.

“Can I go, yet?” she asked, irritably.

“Yes,” said the doctor bluntly, “but I have to inform you first that you are, for the time being at least, grounded.”

“What!?” she shouted.

“Thought you might react that way,” he said. “Let me explain.”

“Please!” she shot back, incredulously.

“First, have you ever experienced any severe head trauma?”

“Yeah,” she said, “more than once.”

“Thought so,” said the doctor. “And have you, in recent memory, been experiencing sudden attacks of vertigo? This would be feelings of dizziness accompanied by nausea and...”

“I know what vertigo is,” said Rainbow Dash, sharply. “Yeah, it happens, but that's just par for the course with my job, isn't it?”

In truth, the attacks to which the doctor was referring had been happening for years. She'd had more than one during an airshow, but in every case had been able to overcome them by force of will, experience, and raw talent.

“No,” said the doctor. “It's not. It's one thing to be a bit dizzy after a barrel roll, but what you have is post concussion syndrome. I'm not sure, but you may also have some irregularities of the inner ear; Do you ever experience a ringing of the ears having no apparent cause? It may be constant, or last only a short time.”

“Sometimes, yeah,” said Rainbow Dash, now becoming concerned.

“Yes,” said the doctor. “I thought so.”

“What are you telling me?” she asked, the anger in her voice replaced by solemn fear.

“It's no fault of yours,” he said in response, “but you've reached an age where these conditions will begin to manifest themselves more aggressively.”

“Which means?” she asked.

The doctor put the chart on a nearby counter, and turned to face her.

“That Sonic Rainboom of yours; it's phenomenal – pegasus magic at its absolute best, to be sure.”

“But?” she asked.

“The G-forces involved would be a nightmare on a body much younger and, to be blunt, less abused than yours. With what I'm seeing here, though, I'm worried that even the milder forces associated with normal aerobatics could become dangerous for you, eventually.”

“Well, is there anything I can do about it?” she asked.

“I have to prescribe a rest period, at the very least," said the doctor. "Take some time off, and let yourself relax. It could be stress as much as anything that's causing the problem to worsen.”

“And if it's not?”

“Then you'll have to be discharged,” he said plainly.

“Doc,” she said quietly, her voice slightly pleading. “I'm begging you; don't report this. I'll take some leave, I'll come back, and I'll be fine.”

“I can't do that,” he said sighing. “What happens if you lose your sense of equilibrium in the middle of an airshow, or even just a training exercise? What happens if you're just a little too high or low, too left or right?”

“I die.” she said, almost whispering. “Me and somepony else who trusted me, most likely.”

Without speaking, the doctor tore a page from the top of the chart he'd been writing on, and handed it to her. She took it carefully in her teeth, and tucked it under her wing.

“I'm glad you understand,” he said. “I can't say what will come down from the top on this. It's only my job to examine you and report what I find. I will say, however, that I hope this all turns out well.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Here's hoping.”

She left the medical facility, and walked back towards the main offices of the academy feeling weak in her knees. Could this be it? After she'd come this far, was something as inane as a little dizziness going to be the end of her dream?

She looked up at the cast iron archway that stood outside the entrance, and read the inscription there for what must have been the thousandth time.

"The meek shall inherit the earth."

"Meek," she mumbled to herself. "Rainbow Dash the Meek. I hope not."

She went inside, and in a few minutes, she was at her office. She opened up the door, and looked around. This had been Spitfire's office, once. What had it been that had put an end to her career?

“Alar osteoporosis,” she said, remembering the name of the disease.

“At least she got that from good, old-fashioned wear and tear,” she said. “I'm ten years younger than she was, at least. It's not fair.”

“What's not fair?” It was Fleet Foot, standing in the hallway behind her.

“Ah,” she said, trying to think of what to say. She walked to her desk, and sat down. She leaned back and stared at the ceiling. As she did so, she heard Fleet Foot follow her into the office.

“I might be done, Fleet,” she finally said.

“What do you mean!?” asked the other pegasus, trotting up to the desk. Unlike Rainbow Dash, she still wore her show uniform, though its hood was pulled back and her goggles hung limp around her neck.

“I've got a... head thing,” said Rainbow Dash, waving her hoof, dismissively. “Makes me get dizzy for no reason.”

Fleet Foot said nothing for several seconds. Finally, she spoke.

“What are they gonna do about it?”

“Don't know,” said Rainbow Dash. “We'll have to wait and see.”

“I'm sure everything will all turn out fine, Cap'n.” said Fleet Foot.

“Ah,” came a voice from the hallway. “Is there really some positivity left in the magical land of Equestria?”

It was Princess Celestia. Fleet Foot had left the door open, and she had approached somehow unheard.

"What do you want?" asked Rainbow Dash. "I know you didn't come all the way from Canterlot just to say 'Hi.'"

“I'll keep this short,” said Celestia. “Twilight Sparkle is in the Crystal Empire. Do whatever you want to about that.”

Rainbow Dash just stared at the Princess, too stunned even to respond.

“Well,” said Celestia, “I'll be on my way. Good to see you.”

Celestia turned, and walked off down the hall. Fleet Foot looked back at Rainbow Dash, who was staring blankly across the room.

“Well, doesn't that brighten your day a bit?” she asked. “You and Princess Twilight were pretty tight, right?”

“Kinda,” said Rainbow Dash, and she rose from her chair, her eyes fixed on something across the room.

She walked towards it, and Fleet Foot watched until she realized what it was she was staring at. In a trophy case where Rainbow Dash kept various awards she had received over the years, looped over a golden laurel wreath she had won in the Best Young Flyer Competition, there hung a strange amulet. It was like a heavy, golden necklace, set with a huge ruby in the shape of a lightning bolt.

“When was the last time I took some leave, Fleet?” asked Rainbow Dash, looking past her reflection in the glass at the enormous, cut ruby suspended from the heavy, ornate chain.

“I've never seen it happen,” came her reply.

“Well, you're about to,” said Rainbow Dash, not turning her head.

***

Fluttershy stared at the cottage, unwilling to approach it and go inside, but painfully aware that eventually she must. There had been a day when she could have fed the animals to stall for a little more time, but there were no animals here, anymore.

He hated animals.

That was why she hadn't had a pet since Angel died. These days, she wouldn't dare bring an animal into her home. She hated herself for that. She should have hated him, instead, and she knew it. For some reason, though, it was always herself towards whom she chose to turn her loathing.

She thought it might be that she was terrified he might somehow detect her disapproval. If he did, he would take it as a sign of disrespect. The result of anything he perceived as disrespect was never good.

He had seemed so kind when she met him. He had been a little mean, at times, but in a funny, affectionate way. Now, he lorded over her, and if she had been quiet in the past, now she lived her life in silence, more like a deer or a rabbit than a pony – always utterly silent, as if fearful of a predator that might be lurking nearby.

“I'll just go to the park, and feed the ducks,” she said.

She dropped her head, and stared at her hooves.

“And when you got back, you'd still have to go inside.” she said. “And he'd ask why it took you so long to get back.”

At this last thought, her stomach turned.

She approached the door quietly, as she did all things in and around the prison she used to call home. She touched it gently, so that her horseshoe would not echo loudly against it, and opened it. He was not in the front room, so she flew slowly up the staircase, not allowing her hooves to touch down. She found him right where she expected him, still asleep in bed.

She loved the weekends. He always slept late, and if she got up early, she could go into town, and at least for a little while, she would feel like she was free.

“He might sleep until the middle of the afternoon,” she thought, and she felt her pulse quicken.

I wish he would sleep forever, she thought.

She watched him for a minute, and a part of her wanted desperately to see if she could perhaps smother him with a pillow, or to retrieve a knife from the kitchen, and cut his throat.

Both thoughts made her feel weak in her knees.

What if he woke up? she thought. What if he stopped me? What would he do?

Her heartbeat quickened at the images that began to flood through her mind, and she slowly glided back down the stairs, and carefully, quietly placed her hooves back on the floor.

She sat down on the couch, feeling totally alone, and began to weep.

Like everything else she did in this house, it was silent.

***

Applejack ground her teeth against the handle of the brush as she once more slapped its wet bristles against the wood of the old barn. A tiny speck of paint struck her in the left eye, and she shut it, cursing under her breath. Despite the discomfort, she continued to slather the old, weathered wood with its fresh coat of bright, red paint.

How dare Celestia show up in Ponyville? How dare Twilight Sparkle climb out of her grave?

She turned, and bent down, once more. Her open right eye saw that the paint can was empty.

“ARGH!” she shouted, spitting the brush onto the dirt.

“Goddammit!” she shouted, opening her eye, and rubbing at it with her foreleg. “This is all fucking stupid!”

She kicked the empty can across the lawn, and watched it roll to a stop at the roots of an old apple tree. A swing hung from one of its branches -- had hung there for most of three decades. Its rusty chains had long ago grown into the branch, high above, and the seat was now too rotten to be used. It moved gently back and forth in the afternoon's breeze.

She sat back on her haunches and huffed, her breathing becoming slow, regular, and heavy. She was shaking all over, and all the thoughts racing through her mind began to spill out.

“Buncha goddamn bullshit!” she shouted. “I don't need this, right now! All I'm supposed to have to do is live and die. I don't owe nopony a goddamn thing! Ain't my job to go see her!”

“Applejack! What. In. The. Hell?”

It was Big Macintosh. He had stepped around the side of the barn, at some point.

Applejack didn't look at him, but continued to stare at the old swing, where once upon a time he had pushed her as a filly, where she had pushed Applebloom, and where, one day, on a whim, she had pushed Twilight Sparkle.

She had fallen off.

Applejack laughed bitterly under her breath at the memory. They had both laughed, then, but now, like all her memories of Twilight, it was tainted and unwelcome.

“Do you really wanna know?” she asked, at long last.

“Hell yup, I do,” he said, bluntly. “You're a mean-ass little cunt, but you're still my little sister, and I ain't afraid of you or nothing you can bring, so c'mon and bring it.”

She growled in her throat for a second, then decided to just get it over with.

“They found Twilight,” she said sharply. “She's in the Crystal City, and Princess Celestia wants us all to go see her.”

“Is that all?” he asked.

“What!?” she shot him a venomous look.

“Hell, from all the commotion, I thought this was something important.”

“The fuck's wrong with you!?” she asked, utterly shocked, but then she noticed he was snickering.

“You're an asshole,” she said.

“Eeyup,” said the big stallion. “Now, go pack your bags.”

“Fuck off,” she said.

He rolled his eyes. “You first.”

“I ain't going,” she said. “Don't want to.”

“Yeah, you do,” he said.

“Only to cuss her out,” said Applejack.

“Go cuss her out, then,” said Big Macintosh.

“Gotta paint the barn,” she said, “and sharpen the plowshares.” She ground her teeth again, her words growing faster and more frustrated. “And mend all the busted apple barrels, and clear the brush outta the west field, and...”

Big Macintosh cut her off.

“And all that will be right where you left it when you get back,” he said. “All of it I don't get around to first, leastways. Now, go.”

“Fuck you,” she said.

“That's Cheerilee's job,” he said. “Your job is to do what you know damned well is good for you.”

“I ain't gotta do shit you say.”

“Nope,” he replied, “but you know I'm right.”

Silence descended, and she stared at the swing for at least a minute, listening to the sound of the leaves rustling and the old swing creaking in the breeze. Her brother did not move from where he stood.

“Fuck you for being right, Big Mac.”

She got up without a further word, and went to pack her bags.

***

“Mommy, what are you looking at?”

The voice of her daughter ripped Pinkamena Diane Pie out of another place and time; a moment trapped over a decade ago in the flash of a camera. Those simple, curious words thrust her cruelly back into her own living room, where she sat on her haunches, staring down at an open photo album. She had taken the old photo off her mantle years ago, and had tucked it away, half-hoping she would forget it even existed.

There was no way her youngest child would remember it.

“I'm just...” She smiled at the little unicorn. “When you get older, you remember stuff, sometimes, and it can make you feel a little weird.” She took a sip from a mojito she'd mixed herself earlier. She didn't like for her children to see her drink, and she certainly did not want them to know that she still popped the occasional pill or smoked a little pot, from time to time. At the moment, however, she needed what she needed, and that was the end of the matter, as far as she was concerned.

“Weird how?” asked the tiny pony. She was only four years old, and shared her mother's pink coloration, though her mane and tail weren't nearly so curly as Pinkie's own.

“You miss ponies, sometimes,” she said.

The filly waddled up next to her mother, and looked down at the photo.

“But all these ponies are still around,” she said. “Except her... and her. Who are they?”

Pinkie took a deep breath. She would not let her daughter see her cry.

“Well, her name is Rainbow Dash. She's a Wonderbolt, now.”

“Like Spike wants to be?”

“Yeah,” said Pinkie Pie. “Like your brother wants to be.”

“She must be pretty cool, then,” said the filly.

“You have no idea,” said Pinkie Pie, laughing a little, and shaking her head.

“Well, who's this other pony? She's pretty.”

“That's the pony I named you after, Twi.” said Pinkie Pie, and she took another drink.

“Twilight Sparkle; she was just about the best friend I ever had. She was a real, live princess.”

“Really!?” The tiny pony's eyes spread open wide. “You knew a princess!?”

Like all little girls, Twilight was fascinated with Princesses.

“A few of 'em, actually.” She took another drink. “Momma's had a weird life.”

“Can I meet some of them?” asked her daughter.

“You met Princess Celestia this morning, didn't you?” asked Pinkie, raising an eyebrow.

“Kinda,” said Twilight. “I saw her, but I was afraid to talk to her. Pumpkin Cake says she's super-powerful.”

“She's definitely that,” said Pinkie, “but she's nice. They're all pretty nice, now that I think about it – even Princess Luna.”

“Really?” asked the little unicorn. “But the big foals all say she's really scary.”

“Oh, yeah,” Pinkie giggled. “Nightmare Night. You haven't had your first one yet, have you?” She wrapped a foreleg around her daughter, and pulled her in close.

“Don't worry,” she said. “That's all pretend. She's not gonna hurt anypony.”

“Oh, good,” said the foal.

"She even comes to the festival for a little while, every year. I'll introduce you to her."

"That'd be neat!" said the little unicorn.

Pinkie Pie forced a smile for her daughter's benefit, and then turned her eyes back to the old photograph. It glimmered faint pink, and she looked back at Twilight.

She was gritting her teeth fiercely, and her little horn twinkled dimly. The photo slid up out of the sleeve that held it in the album. Pinkie did not try to stop her. She probably just wanted a closer look at her namesake, and there seemed to be no harm in it. Then, as she slid the photo free, something fell from behind it onto the floor; something Pinkie Pie had forgotten even having put there.

It was a gold necklace set with a blue jewel in the shape of a balloon. Twilight looked down at it curiously.

“What's this thing, Mommy?” she asked. “It looks like your cutie mark.”

“That's an old piece of jewelry I used to wear,” said Pinkie. She gestured towards the old photo. “We all had one. They were..." she almost went into an explanation of what the Elements of Harmony were, but she realized that in so doing, she would elicit questions that would lead to her telling more than Twilight needed to hear or could fully understand.

"They were kind of a set," she sighed, and that was all that she said on the matter.

Twilight's eyes narrowed with mental strain, and the amulet lifted up to her own neck. It looked enormous on her tiny body, and Pinkie couldn't stifle a laugh.

“Hmph, guess it still works, after all.” she said.

“Huh?” The little unicorn looked desperately confused.

“Oh, nothing,” said Pinkie Pie.

“Put it on,” said Twilight. She took it into her hooves, and held it out towards her mother.

“I don't really want to,” said Pinkie, sipping once more at her mojito.

“Please?” Twilight poked out her lips, and gave her mother her best “do-it-for-me” face.

“Alright,” said Pinkie Pie. She put out a hoof, and took the element of laughter from her daughter. She clasped it around her neck, and struck a corny, grinning glamor pose for her daughter's amusement.

The little unicorn laughed.

Yeah, thought Pinkie. It still works.

The little filly jumped to her feet, and ran up the stairs, still laughing.

“Where are you going!?” shouted Pinkie Pie.

“That one's as crazy as I was,” she mumbled, standing up. "Maybe the voice in her head'll be nice, at least."

Pinkamena Diane Pie hadn't been troubled by her own inner demons in years. It had been Twilight, her magic, and her constant faith in Pinkie's own inner strength that had helped her get rid of them.

"If only I could have helped Twi get rid of hers," she said, and she went to sip at her drink, only to find it was empty.

"Guess we've all got a few, these days," she said, thinking of Applejack's love of the bottle.

She took her empty glass, and walked towards the kitchen, meaning to put it in the sink, or perhaps to mix herself another. She hadn't decided yet.

The mirror that hung next to the door to the dining room stopped her.

It was just an old mirror that had once been her grandmother's. It had an ornate frame with a Florentine design on it, and she'd always liked it as a filly. Her own mother had passed it down to her on the day of her first wedding, seven years earlier. Now, she saw herself reflected in it, still wearing the element of laughter.

She did not smile or laugh, but neither did she cry. She just stared at the strange image, reaching up to touch the sparkling amulet that lay against her chest. She seemed younger to herself, somehow. The laugh lines at the corners of her eyes and the few gray hairs that had crept into her mane in the last two or three years were still present, but still, the Pinkie Pie in the mirror reminded her vividly of the one she had seen in a faded, old photograph only a few minutes earlier.

“The foals haven't visited their grandparents in months,” she heard herself say, “and the Cakes owe me some vacation time, anyway.”

“Why not?” she asked the grinning Pinkie Pie in the mirror.

***

Twilight Sparkle stared into her own reflection, disgusted by it. She stood in a familiar chamber of the Crystal Palace, observing herself in a mirror that had once cast her into another world. It had been a strange journey to a strange place. Now, all that remained to mark her odyssey in that alternate reality was this room, this mirror, and a faint, old stain on the carpet – her blood.

She looked down at the place where she had dyed the floor crimson those eight years past, and sighed. The wounds she had received in the other world had remained when Sunset Shimmer had cast her back into Equestria and shut the gate behind her. She reached up and touched the three tiny dimples in the fur of her chest; the only superficial evidence that still remained of the wounds inflicted upon her by the strange, loud weapon. Nothing like that weird, metal gun had existed in Equestria for ages. Somewhere inside her, the surgeon had told her, she would always have a few fragments of what had seemed to be lead and copper. It was too dangerous and difficult to remove them so close to her heart, even with magic.

That was how she had become Twilight Sparkle, the Uncrowned Princess. It was how she had lost Spike, her number one assistant and best friend. It was how her world had been deprived of its most powerful, vital magic, the Elements of Harmony.

Everything that she had come to believe in so sincerely about herself had been proven wrong that night. She had failed – not on a test, but in a quest. At a moment when she had needed to succeed for the sake of every single pony in her entire world, she had allowed herself to be taken off-guard.

She turned her eyes back to her own image, reflected in that strange, magical mirror. She looked so different now than she had back then, and more different still than she had for that brief time in that bizarre, alternate world where magic didn't exist, equines couldn't talk, and where her closest friend – and her greatest responsibility – had met his fate, though she would never know what that fate might have been.

“Really fucked it all up, didn't I, Spike?”

She gritted her teeth, and scowled at herself in the mirror. She was tempted to destroy it, and for a moment, she almost did. Forgoing magic altogether, she drew back a hoof, meaning to smash it with her horseshoe. Her nostrils flared and she breathed heavily, grinding her teeth. She could wipe this monument to her own inadequacy from existence with just one, sharp thrust. She could see her own image shatter into a hundred, tiny replications of itself for a few brief moments, and then never have to see it again reflected in this abomination. She could have some tiny solace for the failure to which this wicked thing's mere presence bore testament, if only she would drive that hoof forward with all her strength.

But she did not. She just hung her head, and walked out of the room.

She wandered to the main balcony of the palace, and was surprised to see Shining Armor. He was smoking a pipe, and looking out over the city. From the Crystal amphitheater, which stood near the Palace, there were many lights, and the sound of a gathering crowd.

“What's going on over there, tonight?” asked Twilight.

“You really wanna know?” asked her brother, in response.

“Why wouldn't I?” asked Twilight.

“I guess there's no harm in it,” he replied. “There's a concert; Equestria's most darling starlet, Sweetie Belle, herself.”

“Oh,” said Twilight. She stepped up beside her brother, and stared out over the crystalline sprawl. “Glad to know she made something of herself,” she said, but her tone was devoid of the gladness her words professed.

The pair stood in silence for a few minutes, and the smell of Shining Armor's tobacco smoke drifting on the breeze awoke in Twilight an old craving.

“I want some cigarettes,” said Twilight, suddenly. “For the first time in eight years, I just really wanna smoke.”

“I can send somepony to get you some,” said her brother. “Cadance'll have my ass for it, though.”

“I'll get them myself,” said Twilight. “I just need some money.”

“My wallet's on my dresser,” said her brother. “Just take what's in it; I can always get more. You need some spending money, anyway. Might give you a reason to get out of the Palace, for a change.”

“Thanks,” she said, and she turned, and headed back inside.

“Cigarettes and a bottle of that awful, cheap Merlot I used to drink,” said Twilight, trotting purposefully towards her brother and sister-in-law's bedroom. “And a bigass cup of shitty instant coffee. Fuck, I miss coffee.”

***

Fluttershy sat huddled next to the toilet in her bathroom, holding a wad of toilet paper to her nose with her head tilted back. She was shaking, and the scent of blood pervaded her left nostril, which bubbled and rattled with each breath. She wasn't really sure what she had said or done to upset him. She rarely was, anymore.

He had apologized. He always apologized, and he meant it, every time. If nothing else, she was sure that he was always sorry. He loved her, after all, didn't he?

At least he had hit her only once, this time.

“It might have been an accident, even; maybe he just meant to scare me.”

That was ridiculous, and she knew it was. It took next to nothing to scare her – certainly not a hoof across the muzzle.

She pulled the paper away from her nose, disgusted by how completely and darkly it had been reddened. The image of the blood caused her thoughts to stray towards the pack of razor blades he kept in the cabinet.

“I wish I was dead,” she mouthed, but did not say.

She wanted to cry, to sob and to wail at the top of her lungs, but she knew better. One thin wall separated her from him. If he heard her crying, he would be upset. It would remind him of what he had done, and he would want her to be quiet.

He would make her be quiet.

She gritted her teeth to keep from sobbing aloud. Her chin quivered with the strain.

She realized, in that moment, sitting in her tiny bathroom in shame, fear, and silence, that she could not live this way, any longer. She would be dead soon, by his hoof or her own.

Something about that realization brought clarity into the little pegasus' mind. She understood, for the first time, that her own survival was at stake. Her heart was dead by now, she knew; sacrificed to another who had neither power nor inclination to resurrect it. She had not felt real joy in ages, but somewhere inside her there was a faint recollection of what it had been like. It was a memory attached to another time and what seemed another world; attached to old songs, to old friends, and to old hopes and dreams.

Was there any chance she could feel that way, again? That she could feel even something even vaguely like it? Was that tiny chance worth the risk, or should she just sit there, clinging to this pitiful little bit of life that she had huddled beside her toilet?

As those thoughts wove through her mind, her eyes fixed on the bloody toilet paper, and an idea came to her. It was foolish. She might not even make it out the door, if he wasn't inclined to let her leave.

If it worked, though, he would have no idea where she had gone.

She stood, and walked quietly out the bathroom door.

He stood at a window, a hoof on his temple, staring outward in obvious shame. He was always ashamed when he'd done something like this. That was what made it okay.

That was what she told herself, anyway.

She summoned up the courage to speak, hyperventilating for a moment at the very thought.

“I started,” she said. “I'm out of tampons. I need to go to the mini mart.”

He shrugged, and said nothing. She had been dismissed.

She walked slowly up the stairs. She could take only what she could fit in her saddlebags – and pack quickly. If she took too long, or her bags were too full when she walked through the den to leave, he would grow suspicious.

She threw into her saddlebags only a small travel bag with a toothbrush and some other necessities, and her coin purse with the few bits it contained. She hoped there was enough there for a train ticket.

It was a chilly night – the first of the year – she should at least wear a sweater. He wouldn't think anything odd about that.

She opened her closet, and searched through the cold weather clothes, all unworn in months. In a moment, she found her favorite sweater, plain and green. She pulled if off the hanger, and slipped it onto her body. As her head popped up through its neck, she saw a faint glimmer on the hanger behind it. Looking closer, she realized that it was the Element of Kindness.

She had clasped it around the hook of the hanger where she kept her Winter Wrap-Up vest, itself unworn in years.

He said that if a pegasus couldn't help with the weather, she ought not help, at all.

Fluttershy had not had it in her to throw these two old keepsakes away, so she had pushed them to the back of the closet to keep them out of sight and out of mind – his and her own. She realized as she stared at them that they were, in essence, the only remaining physical symbols she possessed of what it was she hoped to find, if she could make good this feeble, ill-conceived escape attempt.

She reached out, and took them off the hanger. A moment more to look at them, and she stuffed them into one of her saddlebags. She was at first dismayed to realize that she could take no more; the bags would begin to bulge, and draw suspicion. Then, however, she looked around.

There was nothing else here that would not always remind her of these last few years. In hiding those two artifacts of her past away, she had accidentally protected them from the malaise that had slowly settled on everything else with which she had once so gladly chosen to surround herself.

They were all she wanted.

“Okay,” she said, and she walked down the stairs, stepping lightly, to avoid drawing his gaze.

He did not so much as look at her as she walked past.

She stepped out of her door, at once hopeful and sad that she might never step through it, again, and shut it quietly behind her. Then, she turned towards town, and began to walk.

***

“Where's wardrobe!?”

Rarity heard her sister shouting frantically from the other end of the amphitheater's cavernous backstage area.

“I'm at the costume rack, of course,” she shouted back.

The sound of her hoofbeats betrayed Sweetie Belle's all-out gallop well before Rarity could see her, and when she did, the reason for her frenetic approach was not difficult to spot. Rarity watched calmly as Sweetie Belle skidded to a halt, right in front of her.

“It goes like this,” she said bluntly, and a loose lace hanging from Sweetie Belle's ornate saddle glowed for a moment before quickly rewinding itself through a series of eye loops. “Start it from the top, at the front, every time. Zig down, zag up, and tie it off with the other one right in the center.”

“Uh-huh,” said Sweetie Belle, her breathing beginning to slow and regulate.

“Calm down,” said Rarity. “It's not any different than any other show.”

“Yes it is,” replied Sweetie, her words thick with anxiety. “Did you even look at this place when we loaded in? It's huge! And sold out.”

“Just like Manehatten, Baltimare...”

“But these are crystal ponies!” said Sweetie Belle. “Their music and everything is totally different than everywhere else in Equestria. What if they don't like me?”

“Well, they can all fuck off, then,” said Rarity.

“Uh, y'all, I don't mean to interrupt...”

Sweetie Belle and Rarity turned to see Applebloom, who was standing nearby wearing a headset and a khaki vest in which she kept various odds and ends she needed to do the job of a light and sound technician.

“Thirty minutes,” she said, not bothering to finish her previous sentence.

“Thank you, thirty,” said both ponies, reflexively and in unison.

“Gonna go check the light cues,” said the earth pony, and she turned to leave.

“Could you check the EQ and the levels on the monitors, too?” asked Sweetie Belle. “If it starts feeding back like last night...”

“It'll be a goddamned miracle,” said Applebloom. "I've got you running through a compressor to compensate for the crazy-ass acoustics in this place.” She huffed. “Honestly. You move the wrong fader just one time.” She wandered off, shaking her head.

“Thank you so much!” Sweetie shouted after her. “Best friends forever and ever!”

“She'll be fine,” said Sweetie Belle, turning back to her sister.

“Probably,” said Rarity, “but don't take that for granted; trust me. Go tell her you appreciate her, and give her a hug, or something.”

She watched, bemused, as Sweetie Belle wandered off wordlessly after her friend. When was it that she had picked up that little nugget of wisdom?

“Ah yes; the incident with the doll.” She allowed herself a laugh. “Odd times, those, but fun.”

About an hour and a half later, Sweetie Belle's final costume change was done, and Rarity was eager to find some escape from the stuffy backstage area. Normally, she would stay all the way through loadout, but the tour had been scheduled for a two-night event in the Crystal City with Sweetie opening for Sapphire Shores tomorrow. Wherever Sweetie Belle dropped her last outfit, it would still be there tomorrow.

“Probably with a popped seam or a missing button,” said Rarity.

She took a hot purple jacket with white, faux fur trim -- her own design, of course -- from where she had earlier laid it on a table, and quickly threw it on. Then, she walked towards a door with a glowing, crystalline “EXIT” sign posted above it.

As she stepped into the night air, she was immediately grateful for the slight chill it brought to her face.

“Where are you going?” sounded a raspy female voice immediately to her left.

It was Scootaloo, clad in a brown bomber jacket, and leaning the length of her body against the wall, smoking a cigarette.

“To get a bite to eat,” said Rarity. “I'll be back before the final number; don't worry.”

“Just don't go get stoned, and then forget, again,” said Scootaloo. “She's gonna come offstage in hysterics like she always does, even though the crowd's gonna love her.”

“I'll be back,” said Rarity. “Besides, you're here, and so is Applebloom.”

“She listens to you, though,” said Scootaloo. “She believes in your junkie ass, for some reason, and for that, she gets a proud place as your walking, talking, singing billboard.”

It was true. Every magazine spread, paparazzi photo, and of course every show in which Sweetie appeared was essentially a free ad for whatever creation happened to be newly out from under Rarity's hooves.

“She asked for me to do this, the same as she asked for you to be her choreographer – and what I choose to do with my spare time has nothing to do with that.”

“Rarity,” said Scootaloo, standing upright, and taking a drag. “Anypony can replace a missing button. Hell, I could probably do it.”

“Ha,” said Rarity.

“My point is that she doesn't have you along on this for what you can do; she has you here for who you are, same as Applebloom and me. If you're not here, then you're no good to her.”

“Do you honestly think I don't know that?” asked Rarity.

“Sometimes I wonder,” said Scootaloo.

Rarity huffed, and shook her head.

“I'll be back,” she said, an edge of irritation in her voice.

To some extent, Scootaloo was right, but Rarity did genuinely care about her sister, whether the pegasus understood that, or not. True, it was a boon to her business to have Sweetie Belle on stage and in the papers wearing her designs, but that wasn't all that motivated her to be here.

“Is it?” she asked herself, walking slowly across the street.

To her good fortune, there was a small, twenty-four-hour package store located adjacent to the amphitheater.

“Thank goodness some modern concepts have caught on so quickly up here in the north,” she laughed, as she trotted up and opened the door, causing the bell to jingle.

“I'll just find myself a granola bar or someth...,” she began, but then her heart absolutely stopped, mid-beat.

Standing at the counter, across from a crystal pony clerk who appeared out-of-sorts with disbelief, there stood a purple alicorn.

Her hair was too long, and her highlights needed a touch-up terribly. Still, the color was right, the cutie mark was right, the wings and the horn were undeniable, and as if that hadn't been enough, she was buying what appeared to be a carton of Lucky Strikes and a bottle of cheap red wine.

“One other thing,” said the alicorn, and it was her voice, too. “Is there anywhere around here I can get a cup of coffee?”

“There's a little coffee shop on the corner,” said the clerk, sounding totally confused as he tucked the wine and the cigarettes into a paper sack. He took a white Bic lighter from a rack, and pitched it in, also. “You'll need that, too,” he said. “On the house.”

“Well, thank you,” she said, seemingly confused by something that was half an act of kindness and half one of perceived duty. Levitating her bag from the counter, she turned to leave, and that was when she saw Rarity.

Neither said anything. Twilight recoiled a little, and made eye contact only briefly before looking straight down at the floor. Rarity could hear her sigh. Soon, she looked up, again, and locked her eyes into the gaze of the white unicorn. Those eyes seemed sad and somehow ashamed, and they were set in a face that was too thin and too weary. Still, however, they were Twilight Sparkle's eyes.

A pair of tears spilled down Rarity's cheeks.

“My makeup's going to run,” she said, her words awash in that peculiar blend of a sob and a laugh that can only exist in moments of profound joy. “Of all... the things... that could happen...”

She could not finish.

Author's Note

Changed the title of this chapter because I'll be damned if they didn't name an arc of the comic the same thing.

I've been tempted to go back and rework Luna's speech into that pseudo-Elizabethan English she uses in the show, but it just really doesn't fit this world. Instead, I try to make her and Celestia use more formal speech patterns with fewer contractions and more precise, literary sentence structure. Big words, sometimes, but not always.

I went back and corrected "An Echo" to fit with Rainbow Dash's story arc chronologically. I thought about making this all happen much later, but I felt thirty-ish was a better age range for the mane six in this story, given that I consider pony ages equivalent to human ages in this universe.

I listened to Alice in Chains' new album "The Devil Put Dinosaurs Here" a lot while I was writing this, and when I was editing the scene where Fluttershy decides to leave home, I put the song "Choke" on loop. Now, I always think of that scene when I hear it.

Yeah, I know; equine mares don't have exactly the same kind of cycle human women do, but they don't talk, either. I needed some kind of excuse for Fluttershy to get the hell out there that I thought this guy wouldn't call her out on. It's what I would have written had this been a human woman trying to escape the same situation, and the whole point of what I'm doing is to make these characters more human. So, I thought, "Why not?" It's effective. and uniquely feminine, which is something I try to halfway hold onto when writing pony fics.

Everything Dies, Baby; That's a Fact

Applejack sat at the station, waiting next to her bags for the train to the Crystal Empire. She wore a red, flannel jacket that was frayed at its cuffs and collar from years of wear in the fields. From one its inner pockets she took a flask, and she sipped from it several times, swishing the whiskey in her mouth and letting it burn its way down into her belly. If not for that familiar sensation, she might have thought she was dreaming.

“Nah,” she said, putting the flask away. “This ain't no dream. If it was, there'd be a goddamn penguin standing on my suitcase trying to sell me peanuts, or some shit. Either that, or there'd be Nightmare Moon trying to kill my ass, again. Damn, those were fine days.”

“Peanuts for sale!”

Applejack looked up, slightly confused, and turned to her left. There was a penguin as big as she was standing on her suitcase with a tray of peanuts.

“Pinkie, get outta that goddamn costume, and quit listening in on other ponies when they're thinking out loud. Ain't you got no respect for nopony's privacy!?”

Pinkie took off the head of the penguin costume. “Well, you don't have to think out loud,” she said, mildly perturbed.

“What the hell are you even doing here?” asked Applejack.

Pinkie gestured to a pair of pink suitcases behind her, both emblazoned with her cutie mark. By the time Applejack looked at them, and then back at Pinkie Pie, the penguin costume had completely vanished. The other earth mare was clad instead in a yellow sweater vest.

“Same as you, from what I can see,” said Pinkie Pie. “I thought you didn't want to see Twilight.”

“I don't,” said Applejack, "but I reckon I gotta go get some things said. Otherwise, I don't know if I'll ever get a good night's sleep, again.”

“Good enough for me,” said Pinkie Pie. “I just want hugs.”

“You always want hugs, Pinkie. You're the neediest pony I ever have met, you know that?”

Pinkie Pie grabbed Applejack, and wrapped her up tight in her forelegs. “Whatever you say, Grumpyjack.”

“Cut that shit out,” said Applejack, laughing a little as she pushed Pinkie off herself.

Then she grunted slightly, and her shoulders hunched suddenly forward.

“What's wrong?” asked Pinkie. “I didn't hug you that hard, did I?”

“Just my back,” said Applejack, and she straightened up, again.

“I'm glad to see I won't have to make the train ride alone,” came Fluttershy's small voice.

“Fluttershy!” Pinkie Pie hopped over to give the pegasus a hug, then pirouetted back to sit between her and Applejack.

“What has gotten into you, Pinkie Pie?” asked Applejack. “You ain't been this hyper in years. You back on those pills, again?”

“Which pills?” asked Pinkie. “There were so many.”

“Never mind,” said Applejack, then she turned to Fluttershy. “I'm surprised old what's-his-nuts even let you out of the house.

“He didn't,” said Fluttershy.

Applejack's “Say what?” and Pinkie's “Huh?” overlapped one another.

“He doesn't know I'm here.”

“How'd you pull that one off?,” asked Applejack.

“I used an excuse I didn't think he would...” Fluttershy began, but her words trailed off.

"Call bullshit on?" asked Applejack.

"Yeah," said Fluttershy, and she even gave a single, near-inaudible chuckle, though even this seemed somehow melancholy.

“Wait a minute,” said Pinkie Pie. “Your nose.”

Fluttershy made no effort to hide the partially solidified, reddish crust on her snout. She shivered slightly, and swallowed.

“I can't take it, anymore,” she said. “I'm not coming back.”

“You just gonna stay in the Crystal Empire?” asked Applejack. “Just gonna let him have your place?”

“I can't come back here,” said Fluttershy. “He'll probably kill me.”

“Ain't gotta be that way,” said Applejack. “Me and Big Mac can rough him up; run him out of town.”

“He might come back,” said Fluttershy, shuddering. “When you weren't around, he might come back.”

“Tell the police,” said Pinkie Pie. “Hell, tell Princess Celestia. She didn't seem too happy about what she saw, this morning.”

“Fuck her,” said Applejack, and she fished once more for her flask. “That bitch ain't gonna do shit for nopony that can't do something for her, some way.”

“You know,” said Pinkie Pie, “I think you're a little hard on her, sometimes.”

“You talking about the same Princess I am?” asked Applejack. “I know Equestria was pretty much fucked, but still, I don't think it was Twilight's plan to come flying out of that mirror leaking like a sieve and without that goddamn crown.”

She took a drink from her flask.

“I guess I was wrong about you.” The orange earth mare quoted the words they all remembered so well with a hard, ugly sneer.

“Twilight's passing out, -- coulda died, for fuck's sake -- and that's the last thing she ever woulda heard.” She stared into the mouth of the flask.

“Worst part about it is: she meant it... You could hear how she meant it; see it in her face, even. And she wants to just take that back? What a self-righteous cunt.”

“She was just disappointed,” said Fluttershy.

“Don't care,” said Applejack. “You said it this morning; She didn't have to say a thing like that.”

“So you've never said anything you regret?” asked the pegasus.

Applejack looked up at Fluttershy. The image of her friend's yellow face stained red around the nostrils brought back to her mind the image of Applebloom with a bloody nose. The memory was so vivid that she could still taste the blood from her own lacerated lip every time she recalled it. Why couldn't she have just let it go at a couple of stray, drunken kicks? No; she had to tell her sister how she really felt, didn't she?

“So, nothing then?” asked Pinkie Pie after waiting a few seconds. “You've never said even one thing you really, truly meant, and still wish you could take back?”

Applejack took one more sip from her flask, then screwed shut its cap.

“One or two things, I reckon.”

***

Princess Luna sat on her balcony, staring down at Ponyville's tiny sprawl in the valley below. Her sister stood nearby, watching her intently.

The sapphire-colored alicorn was in a mild trance that she often entered into when searching through the minds of her dreaming subjects. To most ponies, it would have seemed a bizarre experience. To her, it had become almost mundane. Dreams, – normal dreams of the variety not magically influenced – were so disjointed that she had long ago stopped searching for any symbolism or meaning in most of them. Occasionally, she did discover some profound truth about some pony or other by wandering in a sleeping mind, but usually, all she encountered was a cobbled-together mess of the worries and thoughts that a pony had experienced during the previous day.

As it was, it was mostly dreams of this variety that she found herself wandering through in search of the dreams of one, particular pony. It turned out that the sort of nightmares Shimmershine was having were so different than what she had come to expect, however, that she almost missed him completely. In fact, it was not him at all that first drew her attention.

It was his mother, Lyra.

“Goodness,” mumbled Luna's physical mouth, as her mental, telepathically-projected self stumbled into Lyra's subconscious. “What is going on in this mare's mind?”

There were images of strange, alien worlds; too many to fully comprehend, and cycling too quickly one to another for her to make out many details. The brief glimpses she caught showed worlds with many colors of sky, worlds of water, and even great gas giant planets where things like gigantic, bloated fish swam through the very atmosphere. There were also occasional images of Equestria, and of worlds that seemed more familiar.

Lyra Heartstrings was present in all of them in some form or another, and simultaneously aware of herself as who she was in all of those forms.

“This cannot be good for this poor pony's mind,” said Luna, and with that, she cast a spell to calm Lyra's wild, horrible dreams.

It did not work.

Well, that's new, thought Luna. I'll come back to you. I think I may know what's responsible for this.

Where was he? He had to be close. There. She had found him.

She desperately hoped that what she would see would be the typical, inane nightmares of a young colt with too big an imagination. She saw them all the time, and they usually were not difficult to remedy. Only in cases where some sort of genuinely severe psychological trauma was the cause had she ever had the least difficulty in pacifying a foal's subconscious.

This was incalculably worse than that.

“Egad."

She wanted to erupt in a flurry of curses far fouler, but vulgarity failed her. What she was experiencing was too profound to permit it. It was a thing so horrible that it was actually majestic, in its own way.

The child had only the barest sense of himself, but at the same time he had a sense of everything in existence. It was the understanding of reality that had defined the existence of the being Luna's father had named Cenasolus, the "Sun Eater,” but in a permutation that allowed a finite being like a pony to experience it.

Could it be that Shimmershine was remembering what he used to be?

Impossible, thought Luna, still overwhelmed with the bizarre sense of unity and disconnection that were somehow wed in the colt's psyche. Cenasolus chose to become this little pony. With all of the power that being had, it would have been able to obliterate all possibility of reversion to its former state.

“Let all be one if it will be one, but I will be only a part of it,” Cenasolus had said.

Something else is at the heart of this, thought Luna.

Heart? she thought. Then, Oh, yes! Then, Oh, no.

She concentrated, looking for something regular; a slow, steady throb -- a heartbeat.

“There it is,” she said, mumbling aloud in her physical body. “The aethervox; the heart of a murdered god.”

She could see nothing; no image in Shimmershine's mind was visual. It was like the dreams of a pony born blind.

She could feel something, though, and she could hear it; a number of voices beyond her comprehension, declaring as one their hatred and coming vengeance.

“We come for you,” they said. “The time draws nigh.”

“Please! Tell me who you are!” A child's voice, this time; Shimmershine's.

He was speaking to these beings through the aethervox – his own, beating heart.

“You have not known us, though you destroyed us, but know us you shall before you are destroyed.”

“I've never hurt anypony. Please, just leave me alone!” There was agony and terror in the foal's voice, now, and Luna tried to reach out to offer him comfort.

She could not. In the strange, Stygian void of Shimmershine's nightmare, it was impossible for her to exert any direct influence. She had no more sense of where she was in that abyssal rift of consciousness than she would have were she cast adrift in the farthest reaches of outer space.

All she could do was listen.

“What you have taken from us we shall take also from you. Cast aside your hope, and beg not our mercy. There is no penance adequate to your transgression, and our clemency would be an atrocity against all that has been or ever shall be.”

“I DON'T UNDERSTAND!” shouted the foal, seemingly from everywhere.

“You do not need to.”

So many voices, thought Luna. How can there be so many?

What was the number? There was no number.

“There is no number; many more than many,” she heard herself whisper bodily, in recollection of the strange things Cenasolus had said to them through the aethervox.

Suddenly, she understood.

It had consumed for eternity, that cosmic power that had no name for itself. For farther back than forever, it had taken beings into itself, and in some sense perhaps just as far into the future, as well.

Now, without that singular, seemingly infinite consciousness to unite them, those long-dead gods were individuating themselves, finding once more their own unique identities and awarenesses, and the aethervox, a magical conduit of immense power, was giving them precisely the means by which to assert themselves into reality. Their voices were innumerable, but their desires were, to a one, precisely the same: They wished to exist; for their worlds and for themselves to be real, once more.

Most of all, however, they wanted revenge.

“We will take your world,” they said, “as you have taken ours. You have learned to love and to be loved. In so doing, you have also learned to suffer, and suffer you shall, for longer than there are stars to be seen in the sky.”

Luna started from her trance, shaking her head, and blinking rapidly. She was aware of her sister's presence, but did not acknowledge her until she spoke.

“Fate of the world?” asked Celestia.

Luna nodded slightly, staring down at Ponyville, far below in the shadow of the mountain.

“Fate of the world,” she whispered.

***

“I had given up hope that I would ever see you, again,” said Rarity, staring into a machiato she had bought, but not yet touched. She and Twilight were sitting at a table in front of the coffee shop the clerk had earlier indicated. Twilight had already guzzled an enormous cup of dark roast, and had started on another. She had said little, but Rarity was at least glad that she had deigned to accompany her to the little cafe, rather than just fly away, as she had at first seemed wont to do.

“Where did you go?” asked the unicorn.

“Hmm?” came Twilight's response, as she quickly sat her cup on the table. Her eyes were bright and wide, owing to a tremendous dose of caffeine dumped into a body devoid of its presence for most of a decade.

“Oh,” she said. “I was in an old monastery in the Unicorn Range. It was a place where ponies used to go to find enlightenment.”

“I see,” said Rarity, forlornly. “Did you find it?”

“Not really,” said Twilight, quietly.

“Didn't you ever want to come home?” asked Rarity, wiping her eyes. Her makeup had indeed run, and though she had corrected it to the best of her ability in the coffee shop's restroom, it was still smudged, and faint lines still traced down her cheeks from the corners of her eyes.

“Every day,” said Twilight, and then she shrugged. "For awhile, anyway."

“Well, why didn't you?” asked Rarity, with an air of genuine hurt.

Twilight's eyes blinked several times, quickly. “I really need something to take the edge off all the caffeine,” she said, and her eyes strayed to the bottle of wine in the paper bag on the table.

“Then open it,” said Rarity. “It's not as if anypony's going to say anything about it.” She turned around to the small crowd of gawkers that had accumulated in the coffee shop's other patio chairs since the two of them had sat down. “Are you!?” she said, loudly.

“Rarity, relax,” said Twilight, popping the bottle's cork telekinetically. She guzzled the remaining coffee from her cup, and poured wine to replace it.

“Well, this is really none of their business,” said the unicorn, haughtily.

“We're in public,” said Twilight. “It's the business of anypony who's within earshot, as long as they don't harass us.”

“You and I clearly have different ideas about what constitutes harassment,” said Rarity, giving a nearby mare a mean stare.

“I thought you loved attention.” said Twilight.

“This is different,” said Rarity.

“Not to them,” said Twilight, nodding towards the curious onlookers. Somepony somewhere in the crowd snapped a picture, and the flash startled them both briefly.

“Fine,” said Rarity, “But you still haven't answered my question.”

Twilight drank down the cup of wine like it was water, then looked at Rarity.

“What?”

“Why didn't you come home? We all spent years wondering when you would show up in Ponyville again, and things could go back to something like the way they were before. Eventually, we all realized it wasn't going to happen, of course, and we all dealt with it in our own way. Still, though, I always wondered... Were you really that ashamed?”

“Yes,” said Twilight, quietly.

“Why?” asked Rarity, also lowering her voice. “None of us ever said anything to you. We just wanted you to feel better. That was all.”

“That was what made it so unbearable,” replied the alicorn, sipping at her wine. “Just once, I wanted one of you to really let me have it. I wanted you to hit me, or give me the silent treatment, or tell me that you knew I could have done better.”

“So you hid yourself away, and did those things for yourself?” Rarity raised an eyebrow.

Twilight did not respond. She only poured herself more wine, and took a sip.

“I see,” said Rarity. “Well, if you want criticism, here it is: That. Was. Stupid.”

“I know that,” said Twilight, her ears drooping.

“Please don't ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, a thousand times ever do that, again,” said Rarity, her eyes trying their best to tear up, again.

“Don't even know where I'd go,” said Twilight with a sigh, and she took another drink.

“I missed this stuff so much – and these.” She took out a cigarette, her fifth since they'd sat down, and lifted the white Bic lighter the clerk had given her up to its tip. Her face glowed slightly in its soft, warm light, and she inhaled.

“You're going to feel like somepony kicked you in the chest, tomorrow,” said Rarity.

“I know,” said Twilight, smiling.

“At least there aren't too many ponies around to see this,” said Rarity.

“Rarity, there you are!”

It was Sweetie Belle, accompanied by Applebloom, Scootaloo, and an army of paparazzi.

“Sssshit!” hissed Rarity.

“Where were you?” asked Sweetie Belle, walking over to the table. “I completely fucked the last number, and I don't even know if they're gonna let me do the gig tomorrow, and...”

“You missed one step, and fumbled one line” said Scootaloo, cutting her off. “Nopony even noticed. As for you, Rarity, don't even talk to...” Scootaloo's eyes turned towards the mare with whom Rarity was sitting, and her sentence trailed off.

“Hey,” said Twilight, the substances pervading her body actually edging her voice towards cheerfulness. “It's the CMC!”

“Hoe-lee fucknuggets,” said Applebloom, her voice betraying nothing so much as disbelief. “It's Twilight Fucking Sparkle.”

“What the hell!?” said a random stallion's voice from somewhere in the crowd that had followed Sweetie Belle. “She's right!”

In almost perfect unison, every camera in the crowd that had followed Sweetie Belle from the amphitheater shifted from her to the table where the alicorn sat across from her old friend. The mob shifted to encircle them, and flashes began to erupt from all sides without mercy.

“Why, oh why, did my makeup have to run?” asked Rarity, doing her best to hide her face with her hooves.

The three young mares wedged their way through the crowd, led by Applebloom's earth pony might, and ran up the table.

“Sorry,” said Scootaloo, looking terribly embarrassed.

“Don't worry,” said Twilight. “I've still got this little trick, remember?”

There was a purple burst of light that washed out all the camera flashes, and the five mares that had been at the tiny table were gone, leaving only a bottle of wine and a burning cigarette in an ashtray.

There was a chorus of gasps, and murmurs of “Where'd they go,” and the like. Ponies looked around in stunned confusion, trying to decipher what had just happened.

Suddenly, there came another flash, and there again stood Twilight Sparkle. She levitated her bottle of wine off the table, and grabbed her burning cigarette between two of her right wing's primary feathers. Then, she gave a monotone “Whoops,” and disappeared, once more.

***

The sound of the train's brakes screeching shocked Pinkie Pie out of what had been a sound sleep.

“Are we there yet?” she asked, sleepily.

Applejack, who was sipping at her whiskey, turned a slightly reddened eye towards the other earth pony, and shook her head.

“Stopover at the passenger dock below Cloudsdale is all,” she said. “It's about midnight; go on back to sleep, Pink.”

“Why are you still awake?” she asked in reply, yawning.

Applejack shrugged. “Not thinking I'll get much sleep on this ride. Too much on my mind.”

“Like what?” asked Pinkie.

“Time,” said Applejack. “How it fucks with you, you know?”

“Oh,” said Pinkie, gently.

Applejack took another swig from her flask. She pulled it away from her lips, and sighed.

“Lemme ask you something, Pinkie.”

“Shoot.”

“How the hell is it you're the only one of us that's still... you know... the same.”

“Hmm?” Pinkie looked bewildered.

“Rarity's back and forth between Ponyville and Canterlot, strung out all the goddamn time. Fluttershy's....” Applejack nodded at Fluttershy, who was laying on an adjacent seat in a fitful, twitching slumber. “Rainbow Dash,” continued the orange mare. “Hell, we ain't seen her in six years or better. And me?” She scowled at the flask, then took another sip from it. “Shit, I don't even know, anymore.”

She took a deep breath, and turned her eyes away from Pinkie Pie's face.

“So, why not you? You work the same shitty job you've had since you were eighteen. You run yourself ragged taking care of three younguns. You got three divorces under your belt, and ain't none of them fellas showed hide nor hair trying to be daddy to their own flesh and blood since they took off. You're a goddamn failure, Pinkamena Diane Pie, but you just keep smiling.”

The orange mare shook her head, unsteadily.

“How?” she asked, not looking at Pinkie.

Pinkie Pie pursed her lips, and her eyes narrowed and widened in thought.

“You know, I can't say. I guess I just never think about it. I think if I ever did, it would drive me crazy.”

“That'd be a helluva sight to see, sure enough,” said Applejack; “you crazier than you already are.”

“Haha! I know.”

The pair said nothing for awhile, then Pinkie looked at her friend.

“You know, I think you think too much,” she said.

“Drink too much, maybe,” said Applejack, “but think? Me?”

“Yeah,” said Pinkie Pie. You're always inside your head. Not like Twilight used to be, though. She was always working out a whole lot of different things. You're always working out... you.”

“Never thought of it that way,” said Applejack.

She eased herself back against the seat, trying to find a position that would alleviate the dull throb in her lower spine.

“Yeah, you have,” said Pinkie Pie. “That's the problem.” She fell silent for awhile, then spoke again.

“What are you gonna say when you see her?” she asked.

“Dunno,” said Applejack. “Keep thinking about it, but I can't come up with nothing. Got a lot of weird, mixed up feelings. We were all supposed to be some kinda legend or something, but then one thing happens, and it's all just... over. I don't need nopony's attention, so I guess I coulda stood that just fine, if she'da just stayed put. Like it is, though, I just don't know.”

“Take an open seat,” came the voice of the conductor We'll be leaving the station soon.”

The sound drew the two earth mares' eyes towards the door at the front of the car.

“Well, I'll be goddamned,” said Applejack.

In the doorway of the car stood Rainbow Dash, wearing her Wonderbolts dress uniform, a navy blazer with her rank insignia on the left breast pocket.

“Hi, guys,” she said. “Going my way?”

Two minutes later, having finally pried herself free of Pinkie Pie's onslaught, Rainbow Dash sat down in the seat behind the sleeping Fluttershy.

“What's with her?” she asked, amazed that the commotion of Pinkie Pie's greeting hadn't roused the pegasus.

“She's been having it kinda rough,” said Applejack, who still had not risen from her seat.

“I can see that,” said Rainbow Dash. “What happened to her face?” Her brow furrowed.

“Long story,” said Applejack. “Don't know if she'd want me telling it.”

“It's okay,” came Fluttershy's voice. “I'll tell you later.”

Her eyes opened, and she lifted her head to look up at the blue pegasus.

“It's good to see you,” she said, her voice only slightly above a whisper.

“Good to see you, too, Fluttershy,” said Rainbow dash, and she reached down and touched the undamaged side of Fluttershy's face with a foreleg.

Fluttershy shut her eyes, once more, and returned her head to where it had lain.

“Reckon you're on your way to the Crystal City?” asked Applejack.

“Yeah,” said Rainbow Dash. “How have you two been?”

“Married three times,” said Pinkie. “None of 'em still around, but I've still got my babies.” She pulled a wallet from a pocket on her haunch that had no right to be there. She held it up, and a roll of pictures of her family dropped downward. It did not finish unraveling until it stopped at Rainbow Dash's hooves.

The pegasus looked down.

“Well, they're adorable, Pinkie,” she said frankly, and with a smile.

“I know,” said Pinkie Pie. “That's my whole world, right there.” She turned a little crank mounted on the side of the wallet, and the photos retracted back into it, making sounds like a tiny, winding anchor chain.

“How about you, AJ?” Rainbow Dash's voice sounded somewhat disdainful, and Applejack noticed that she was staring at the flask she was holding. She put it away.

“Been living alone, doing what I've always done,” she said, having stowed her liquor. “How's Wonderboltin' and such?”

“Everything I ever wanted,” said Rainbow Dash, but there was an emptiness behind her words that Applejack couldn't immediately place.

“Glad to know somepony's life ain't falling apart,” she said, deciding not to pursue it. She'd had enough to drink that she might be hearing things where there was nothing to be heard, anyway.

“Yeah,” said Rainbow Dash. “Good to see you guys are still making it.”

***

Right around the time that Rainbow Dash was being reunited with her friends in a train car below Cloudsdale, Twilight Sparkle, Rarity, and three younger and considerably more confused mares seemed to pop into existence in the royal chambers of the Crystal Palace.

“I see you got your cigarettes, Twilie,” said Shining Armor. He and Cadance had apparently been seated in the parlor, listening to an old jukebox that Shining had obtained from a defunct bar in Canterlot.

“Mmmhmm!” said Twilight, actually smiling. Years without a sip of alcohol had destroyed her tolerance completely, and it was showing.

“Great,” said Cadance. “And the one thing that I was actually glad of out of this whole mess was that it got her off those things.”

“She's like thirty,” said Shining. “She can smoke if she wants to.”

“Twenty-nine,” said Twilight, through lips half-clenched around the filter of a glowing Lucky Strike.

“Ooh,” said Rarity. “Starting to strike nerves, is it?”

“Careful, sis,” said Sweetie Belle, picking herself up from the heap she and her friends had collapsed into upon reappearing. “That's not a game you can win.”

“Please,” said Rarity. “I don't think she's so far gone she can't stand a little good-natured ribbing.”

“No, really,” said Twilight, through teeth lightly clenched around the butt of her cigarette, “be careful.”

“Well, you're no fun,” said Rarity, pursing her lips like pouting child.

“Wait a minute,” said Scootaloo. “Are we where I think we are?”

“Apparently,” said Cadance, “You're in a smoking lounge.” She stood up, walked over to a window, and opened it.

Twilight sighed, then walked over to the window. She took one more drag, then flicked her cigarette out of it. In a moment, it came back, still burning, and glowing the faint pink of Cadance' magic.

“No, go ahead,” she said. “If it makes you feel better, I don't care. The walls are made of rock, anyway. They won't take the smell too much. Just keep a window open.”

“Thanks,” said Twilight, quietly. The color of the glow around the cigarette shifted from pink to purple. She stared at it for a moment, then put it to her lips, and inhaled again.

As she turned back from the window, levitating the bottle of wine to her lips, she realized that everypony was watching her intently.

“What?” she asked, taking the cigarette away from her lips with a wing.

“We have wine in the cellar that doesn't taste like kerosene,” said Cadance.

“Yes,” said Rarity, pointing at the cigarette, “and if you insist on holding your cigarette that way, at least use a cigarette holder so you don't get burns and nicotine stains on your feathers; it looks a bit trashy.”

“Hey!” came Scootaloo's voice. She had at some point lit a cigarette herself, and was of course holding it between two distal primary feathers of her left wing. Cadance sighed loudly at the sight.

“Well, it seemed like you were cool with it,” said the pegasus. “Window's open,” she shrugged.

“She's got you on that one,” said Shining Armor.

***

As the train pulled into the Crystal Empire station, it was less the screech of its brakes and more the shift of momentum that pulled Fluttershy out of her slumber. As she sat up and looked around, she realized that the other three ponies were likewise awakening. She fluffed at her mane with her wings and hooves, trying to shake off the distinct, greasy sensation that always came out of a night of sleep without a pillow. It was only intensified by the awareness that she probably wouldn't be able to wash up in the immediate future.

She looked out at the great, shining tower of the Crystal Palace. When last had she laid eyes on it? She couldn't even remember. Unlike many things in her life, this was something she genuinely would have liked to recall. It seemed like decades, but she knew that couldn't be right.

“Seems like it was just yesterday, eh Fluttershy?” asked Pinkie Pie.

“Huh?” She did not turn to look at Pinkie, but allowed her eyes to remain fixed on the distant, glistening tower. “Yeah, I guess so,” she heard herself say.

“So, she's really in there, huh?” asked Rainbow Dash, putting a hoof to her brow to shield her eyes against the intensity of Celestia's dawn.

“Yeah,” said Applejack. “Reckon so.”

The quartet piled off the car, and looked around. In many ways, the station remained the same. There were some new shops, owing to the encroachment of modern Equestria into Crystal Pony culture. One thing of note was a newsstand, where a crystal mare was filling the rack with copies of the Crystal Empire Press.

“Oh, my,” said Fluttershy, looking at the front page story.

“Oh, shit,” said Rainbow Dash.

“Look on the bright side," said Pinkie. "At least we know she's here."

“What are y'all...” was as far as Applejack got. Then came a “Ha.”

“Princess Twilight Sparkle seen Drunk, Smoking, Schmoozing With Celebrities.”

The photograph below the headline showed Twilight sitting at a table outside what appeared to be a coffee shop. Also present was Rarity, trying -- unsuccessfully -- to hide her face.

Applejack fished in her saddlebag, and threw the mare at the newsstand a bit.

“Reckon I'ma need me one-a these,” she said. “Gonna frame that shit.”

“What the hell is Rarity doing in the Crystal Empire?” asked Rainbow Dash.

“This is where Sweetie's tour is, right now,” said Pinkie Pie. "I keep up with it so I always know where Rarity is. It kinda makes me feel closer to her, somehow.”

“I miss her,” said Fluttershy.

“Well, you get to see her soon enough,” said Pinkie Pie. Then, her face lit up.

“That means Applebloom is here in town, doesn't it?” she asked Applejack.

“Yeah,” said the orange mare, her gaze and voice distant. “Suppose it does.”

***

Cadance had barely gotten her mane and makeup together for the day when a knock sounded at her door.

“Come in,” she said.

The door opened, and in stepped a guard, who bowed.

“Highness, there are ponies downstairs who claim to have business with... well... Princess Twilight.”

“This early?” she asked. “And who would want anything out of Twilight? She has no official duties.”

“They aren't here to see her in an official capacity,” said the guard. “They claim to be friends of hers.”

Cadance turned suddenly.

“What did they look like?” she asked.

“They were mares; two earth mares, and two pegasi. They were...” his words failed him.

“Strange?” There was a palpable eagerness in the word.

“Well... uh... yes,” he said, “but I didn't want to say it quite that way. Strangest thing was that I could have sworn one of them was Rainbow Dash – THE Rainbow Dash.”

“Bring them into the parlor," said Cadance, excitedly. "I'll go get her!”

Twilight woke from a dreamless sleep. Cadance was standing over her, and shaking her with a hoof. Her head was pounding with a red wine hangover, her first in most of a decade.

“Why do you keep messing up my deal?” asked Twilight.

“They're here,” said the pink alicorn.

“Oh, gods,” said Twilight. She didn't even have to ask who Cadance meant.

“Go tell Rarity,” said Twilight. “She'll want to...”

“I'm right over here, actually,” said Rarity. She was indeed standing just behind Cadance.

“What are you...”

Rarity cut off Twilight simply by grinning. She then levitated a pair of scissors and an impressive battery of cosmetics into the alicorn's field of vision. Twilight also noticed a faint lavender morning dress hanging on a hook behind her.

“Put your makeup on, and put your mane up pretty,” said Cadance, smiling.

“You still listen to Springsteed a lot, huh?”asked Twilight.

“Of course I do,” said Cadance. “After all, everything dies, baby, that's a fact.”

“But maybe everything that dies someday comes back,” mumbled Twilight. “I'll believe it when I see it.”

“Speaking of dye,” said Rarity, producing from her saddlebag a highlight kit. “I should get busy.”

“I'll go tell them she'll be down in... how long?” asked Cadance.

“Do you know who I am?” asked Rarity, haughtily. “Give me twenty.”

Cadance walked out, and shut the door behind her.

“Before you even touch me,” said Twilight, “you're not high, are you?”

“Far too early for that, darling.” She lifted her scissors. Now, be a dear and hold still, so I don't crop your ears.”

“How comforting,” said Twilight.

Well under twenty minutes later, Twilight found herself staring once more into a mirror, but this time, it was the similarity between her memories and her reflection that stunned her rather than the differences. Were it not for her being slightly taller, she would have sworn she was a decade in the past.

“Rarity, seriously, what the hell are you?” she asked, continuing to stare forward.

“It's called a friend,” said Rarity. “Don't worry. It'll all come back to you, shortly.”

She pulled Twilight out of the chair, and pushed her to the door. Twilight made no effort to resist. As she moved down the hallways and stairwells of the Crystal Palace, she felt as if time had softened around her in some way. It was as if her whole life came flooding back through her mind, leaving her unsure of how the choices she'd made had led her to where she now stood. She had never aspired to even have friends, much less be a Princess. She had only been fascinated by magic.

If she could have gone back, would she have told herself to just let it go? To just accept mediocrity, and to be an ordinary unicorn? Could it have saved her all the agony, confusion, and danger she had endured? Could it have spared her the loneliness? When all was said and done, had it been worth it to be Twilight Sparkle, at all?

As the door to the parlor opened, she found out.

There was a long moment of recognition. It was them, to be sure, but time had, in accordance with its nature, been unkind.

Rainbow Dash stood prouder somehow, though Twilight would once have not believed that possible. She seemed statelier, but there was a weight behind her eyes that had not existed before. Her face seemed drawn, somehow – and worried. The face of the rakish tomboy was gone. This was the face of one burdened with responsibilities and expectations; the face of a leader.

Applejack stood slightly stooped, and did not smile. She wore what Twilight could have sworn was the same, old Stetson, but it was now well-worn, and stained around its brim with dirt and sweat. She straightened her posture at the sight of the alicorn, but as she did, Twilight saw a slight tremor of pain shoot through her otherwise stolid expression.

Fluttershy left her slightly stunned. There was an ugly stitch above her eye, and the discoloration of a healing contusion around and beneath it. She seemed sad, her posture even more stooped than that of Applejack. A slight smile crossed her face as she saw Twilight, but it was less one of joy than one of relief. In its wake, she seemed to sink even lower, and her breathing seemed to slow itself. Her eyes teared.

Last of all there was Pinkie Pie. With the exception of a few laugh lines around the corners of her eyes, she seemed to have changed not at all. Predictably, she was the first to react to Twilight in earnest.

It was something between an embrace and an act of assault, accompanied by a sound somewhere between a gleeful squeal and a banshee's wail. It was the sound of years; of hope deferred and finally given its justification. Twilight barely managed to withstand it. The impact of the pink earth mare against her chest was audible; a hollow, meaty thud that rocked through her bones and into the very floor and walls.

She weathered it, and brought herself back aright.

Twilight stood a bit taller than Pinkie, now, and the little earth pony was crying into her chest like a foal with a skinned knee. Twilight stared down, her mouth slightly agape, and watched the fur around the three old scars darken with her friend's tears.

“Hi, Pinkie Pie,” she finally whispered.

Author's Note

There had to be at least one of these ponies whose life had turned out relatively okay. I picked Pinkie Pie because having her behaving normally (for Pinkie Pie) gave me an opportunity for an occasional moment of levity. It also made her a viable sounding board and foil for the other ponies. It was a lot to put on one character, but good, old Pinkamena was up the challenge.

Had to rely on a tiny info dump here in Luna's scene. I could have put together some kind of a contrived scene where it was being explained verbally by Celestia or Luna, but I just felt like, for once, quick and dirty was the way to go. I wanted this book to be readable and understandable to people who hadn't read "Sun Eater," and I didn't want to have to add an entire chapter to make that happen.

It's well-known to those who have read my work in the past that my Equestria contains some anachronisms. There are things from various times and places in our world that just... exist there. Whether it's a song, or Twilight's Lucky Strike cigarettes or white Bic lighter, I just like to stick little bits and pieces of the familiar into this setting. Also, white Bics are associated with bad luck, so it seemed fitting.

The song lyrics that Twilight and Cadance are quoting are taken from a Bruce Springsteen song called "Atlantic City." I guess in Equestria it would be "Crystal City," and have a few line changes, here and there. It just seemed like Cadance would be the kind to listen to Springsteen, if she was human, and those lyrics just work so well in this story that I couldn't resist.

I've been asked why I base so many things around things like characters eating or female characters applying their makeup, or like Shining Armor having a smoke on the balcony. To put it simply, I do it because that's where life really happens. Crisis is the exception, not the rule, even when you're building towards it.

Ghosts of Gods

A mother's worry for her child is unique. It is a pervasive sort of fear, genuinely deeper than any concern she might ever feel for herself. It pervades her thoughts, and steals away her peace of mind. It denies her sleep, and becomes the defining aspect of her being.

On this day, striding into Canterlot Castle at the summons of Princess Celestia, that steady, creeping terror plied itself heavily on the mind and heart of Lyra Heartstrings.

“Mom, this place is really big. Have you ever been here, before?”

“Once or twice,” she said.

In reality, there had been precisely two times; one a wedding, the other a coronation. Both would, in the end, have more bearing on this visit than the unicorn could now imagine.

She was sick to her stomach. The letter that she had received, clearly marked “From the Desk of Princess Celestia,” had instructed her to bring her son to the castle at this specific time, but had made no mention of why. There had been also clear instructions to tell nopony where they were going or what they were doing.

The guard leading them had said nothing so far, and his looming presence was becoming somewhat unnerving.

To her surprise, he led them through the foyer, and out another door, into the Castle Gardens. It was a lovely place, and it relaxed Lyra somewhat. That was probably what Princess Celestia had intended, she decided, but whether that was a good sign or a bad one, she could not guess. At last, the Princess came into view. She stood in a small grove of trees, and her face was solemn, though welcoming. To Lyra's surprise, Princess Luna was also present, sipping from a coffee cup. It was she who first noticed their approach, and she nudged her sister to make her aware of them.

The guard stopped, and gestured for them to continue. Lyra was somewhat relieved to see that both Princesses were beckoning to them with pleasant looks. Still, however, as she approached, she sensed a heavy weight in the way they observed her son.

“Salutations,” said Celestia. Lyra bowed instinctively, and the colt, seeing his mother's behavior, mimicked it.

"Salutations to you, too, your majesty,” replied Lyra, and at last she could not contain herself. “What's going on?”

“I do not know exactly where to begin,” said Celestia, “so I will start at the beginning. First, however, Luna.” She nodded at her sister, and the smaller alicorn walked over, and looked at the confused, terrified colt.

She knelt down, and smiled at him.

“Don't worry,” she said. “You haven't done anything wrong. I just need to ask you some questions. Come with me.”

As Princess Luna led her son away to another part of the garden, Lyra felt her heart tugging her after the little colt, but she knew she had to stay.

“Ten years ago,” said Celestia, “there was an incident involving a sort of... outer god. It was a powerful spirit from the distant cosmos that my father long ago named 'Cenasolus,' which means 'Sun Eater.'”

Beginning from there, she told Lyra the story of how Cenasolus had come to be known to Equestria, how it had forced her father, Sol, the former god of the sun, to sacrifice his own life to sate its hunger, how it had returned aeons later, and how, once given awareness, it had chosen to become a simple earth pony – her son.

“It's true that you filled out all the requisite forms, and underwent all the normal processes associated with adopting a foal. What you did not know was that there was another process, conducted at my behest; You were chosen specifically to be Shimmershine's adoptive mother – chosen by me.”

“Why me?” asked Lyra.

“Because you were, by all indications, of immaculate character.” said Celestia, smiling. “You also lived in Ponyville, which was adjacent enough to Canterlot that I could keep an eye on you – and him. It was unfortunate that I... lost my most reliable liaisons in Ponyville shortly thereafter. However, I still made a point to keep a certain degree of awareness as to how your son was doing. It was a stroke of luck that I happened to be in a position to find out that he had been suffering from recurrent nightmares, as of late. Luna used some of her more unique powers to examine the situation.”

She paused, and raised her head, her expression growing severe.

“Your son's very existence has become a threat to the entire world,” said Celestia.

Lyra sank to her haunches, her heart melting within her.

“How come I was never told all this before?” asked the unicorn.

“We never told you because it was always our hope that Shimmershine would have an ordinary life. Would you have thought of him the same way – treated him the same way – if you had known?”

“I don't know,” said Lyra. “I would have loved him, I'm sure.”

“But would you have wanted him in the first place?” asked Celestia.

Lyra said nothing for a few moments.

“I don't know,” she finally said, through a sigh, “but he's mine, now, as far as I'm concerned, and that's just the way it's going to be. Now, how is it that Shim can put the whole world in danger? He's just a colt, and you said yourself that he doesn't remember anything about what he was, before.”

“Very well,” said Celestia. “We think that somehow, the beings that Cenasolus absorbed throughout its long, long existence are beginning to awaken and to remember who and what they were. They are using the aethervox, the very heart that beats inside your son's chest, to project themselves out into our world. The first place they will manifest themselves is in the subconscious of ponies they can reach. It will be unicorns, first, owing to a greater general sensitivity to magical influences. I'm sure you have experienced some strange dreams as of late, have you not, Lyra?”

“Yes,” said Lyra, her blood chilling.

“And in these dreams,” asked Celestia, “What do you see?”

“Terrible things,” said Lyra. “ I see creatures... monsters that don't seem like they belong in this world. They speak strange languages, and they all seem angry and full of hate... and regret. What are they, Princess?”

“It is a crude metaphor,” said Celestia, “but in a very real sense, they are ghosts; ghosts of gods.”

“What do you mean to do?” asked Lyra.

“I do not know,” said Celestia. “There was magic in Equestria, once, which could have perhaps given them their final peace, but it is gone, now. Still, Luna and I will do what we can to put a stop to this, and with any luck, both Equestria and your son will be whole and unharmed when it is done.”

“And what if you're not so lucky?” asked Lyra.

“Optime Facimus,” said Celestia. “We do our best.”

***

Applejack sat alone, staring across the balcony at her friends. They seemed happy, she finally decided, even Fluttershy, and that was a strange thing to see, these days. She caught bits and pieces of their conversation, and part of her was genuinely curious as to its entirety. Overall, though, she wasn't sure she wanted to be a part of it.

“What are you doing over here?” It was Princess Cadance.

“Minding my own business,” said Applejack. "Ever tried it?"

Cadance gave her a hard look, but then her eyes softened.

"Come on, Applejack. You could have minded your own business in Ponyville. Don't you at least want to talk to her?”

“I thought I did," said the earth mare, "but now that I see her, I think it'd be better for her if she didn't speak to me. Might be better for me, too. I guess I really just wanted to see she was alive and well.”

“That's all?” asked Cadance.

“Reckon so,” Applejack shrugged, and she felt a watery, twisting sensation in her guts. “Where's a bathroom?”

At least that would get her away from this balcony and the pink alicorn's prying questions.

“Third door on the right in the second hall to the left,” said Cadance.

“Know what? I'll just find it on my own,” said Applejack, and she headed inside.

“Every-goddamn-pony thinks they got some kinda right to decide how I should feel about this bullshit” She ground her teeth, and something about the anger coursing through her blood actually helped her to remember Cadance' directions.

Finding the restroom, she stepped inside. She'd been dragging herself through the last twenty-four hours on nothing but whiskey, grit, and anger, and it was taking its toll on her digestive tract.

She did what she had to do, and having no better plan, decided to return to the balcony, if only to watch. She wasn't sure why. She still had no idea of why she had even come here. If there had been any curiosity in her, it had been slaked, and she should want to go home. Still, though, something gnawed at her mind.

As she neared the archway that led out onto the balcony, she almost tripped over her own hooves. Three mares had joined the group: Sweetie Belle, who stood next to Rarity, Scootaloo, who was speaking to Rainbow Dash, and of course Applebloom, who stood to the side, by herself, looking quite confused.

It wasn't hard for Applejack to guess why.

She looked healthy and strong. She was taller than Applejack – taller than Twilight, in fact. She had been for years, having received no small portion of the same genes their mother had bestowed Big Macintosh. For all her height and solidity, though, she was still pretty. She would have no trouble finding a good stallion, and she would have a happy life.

Run, thought Applejack. Get back on the goddamned train, and go home. She don't need to see your orange ass, whether she thinks she does, or not. Let this shit alone.

Applebloom sighed, and it was so deep that Applejack could see it from where she stood, seemingly so far away.

“That or I could grow some balls,” she said, and she walked towards her sister.

She moved into the light of the sun, and she had made it not three steps before Applebloom spotted her. For a moment, her face beamed, but she reigned it in to a slight nod and a faint smile as quickly as she could. It was the Apple Family way.

Applejack continued walking until she stood in front of the younger mare. She drew herself to her full height, so as not to seem so much shorter than her sister. This of course elicited aches and pains from various muscles and joints all over her body.

“Howdy,” was all that she said.

“Howdy-do to you,” said Applebloom, her eyes shifting away from her sister's face.

“I owe you a drink,” said the smaller, older mare. “That's still the rule, ain't it? Winner buys?”

“Reckon so,” said Applebloom.

Over near the railing of the balcony, at the edge of the group of ponies, Pinkie Pie stood next to Cadance, watching the two farm girls do their best to make amends.

“You gonna help that along?” asked Pinkie Pie.

Cadance turned her eyes sidelong, and saw Pinkie glancing between her horn and cutie mark.

“I could,” said Cadance, “but the older I get, the more I realize something: real love doesn't need magic to survive. Most of the time, if I just keep my hooves off, I get to watch things fix themselves.”

“That sounds kinda boring,” said Pinkie Pie.

“You're wrong,” said Cadance, smiling. “It's thrilling.”

***

“So, he has no memory of what he was?” asked Celestia. A snifter of Cognac floated beside her, and she and was sipping at it periodically.

“Nothing substantial” said Luna, snickering quietly at the enormous snifter. Celestia had apparently had it custom-made, at some point, and it would have been comically large for any equine other than herself. Luna was drinking from a normal, pony-sized snifter that was otherwise identical in appearance.

The two alicorns were sitting together in Celestia's chamber. Lyra Heartstrings had been asked to take some time in the city with her son so that they could deliberate upon what they had discovered.

“Is there any trace at all of what he used to be?” asked Celestia.

“Only a faint memory that plays itself out as a dream. His mind seems to revert somewhat to its former state of being, but he still thinks of himself as Shimmershine. The voices come to him in these dreams, and it terrifies and confuses him because he does not consciously remember that former existence. I am uncertain what would happen if he was somehow restored to a full awareness of what he used to be.”

“I keep wondering if that might allow him to control these manifestations. Perhaps he could absorb these consciousnesses back into his own.” said Celestia. “That would not give them true peace, but it would at least save Equestria... and the world.”

“I have considered the same possiblity,” said Luna, “but there are implications...”

“That we may have to accept,” said Celestia. “No force available to us will be sufficient to repel the advances of so many deities. We don't even know what the true scope of their power is.”

“But this is not their world,” said Luna. “You and I will be far more powerful than they are, here, so long as the sun and moon still shine.”

“Yes,” said Celestia, “but there are so many of them, and only two of us – and there are mightier beings than ourselves in the universe. What happens if even the weakened manifest consciousness of an entire galaxy or perhaps an ancient neutron star forces its way into our world? What if it's driven mad with lust for vengeance and with the confusion and agony of its rebirth? What if it decides to try and claim our world as its own?”

“Cataclysm, at best,” said Luna. Her voice darkened as she spoke, again. “More likely, we just die.”

Celestia nodded, and took a deep drink from her snifter.

"If only we had the Elements," she said, "we could lay those souls to rest."

"Let it go," said Luna.

"I cannot," said Celestia. "Is it not my own judgment that's to blame? Didn't I place the fate of the world in the hooves of somepony who wasn't ready for that burden? It was no fault of hers, but I should have seen..."

"Seen what?" asked Luna, interrupting her. "That your old student would come back to visit tragedy on your new one?" She shook her head. "That was beyond anypony's ability to predict. Moreover, would any of that have ever happened if I had not abandoned my own responsibility to the Elements?"

"I abandoned mine as well, Luna," said Celestia. "I left the greatest gift Father and Mother gave our world as so many cold, gray stones in a ruin in the woods."

"Out of despair I inflicted," said Luna. "It is as much my fault as yours."

"Failures at every turn, the lot of us," said Celestia.

The room fell silent, the two big mares drinking in silence. Finally, Luna spoke up.

“There is an option we have not discussed," she said, her words dark and solemn.

“I won't kill him, Luna; not unless every other avenue has failed us.”

“Just checking,” said Luna, sighing.

“He's just a foal.” Celestia rose, and walked to the window, where she stared down at Canterlot, far below. “Regardless of what he used to be, insofar as he is aware of himself, he's just a little colt that likes to play games with his friends. I know; I've seen him do it. He's a happy, normal child, and he doesn't even have a cutie mark, yet. I won't deny him a future, if there is any other way, at all.”

“But if there is no other way?” asked Luna.

“Then I will do it myself,” said Celestia.

“Just checking,” Luna said again, more sadly, this time. She took a sip of her own drink. “But if we restore his awareness of what he used to be, he will, in a sense, lose what he has become, anyway.”

“I know that,” said Celestia, “but we swore to help him to know what it meant to love and to be loved. If he is killed, or if the world is destroyed, and he along with it, then we have failed in that oath. If he is merely changed, however...”

“Could Discord do something?” asked Luna, suddenly.

“Doubtful,” said Celestia. “The nature of his magic does not lend itself well to our current predicament. Besides, we're talking about the rampant manifestation of a tremendous number of powerful spirits all trying to reshape reality according to their own will. He would most likely find the idea intriguing, if not outright appealing. Best he be left out of this.”

“Then I am out of ideas,” said Luna. “We shall simply have to awaken the thing that sleeps inside this colt. How do we go about it?”

“To our great fortune,” said Celestia, “Twilight Sparkle happens to be well-versed in memory spells. She used to use them to help herself memorize facts and figures. The one she used to restore her friends' memories when they were corrupted by Discord – now that you mention him -- may work, but I must confess I have no idea of its particulars, or even which book in which to find it. That one was a Starswirl number; not one of mine.”

“So, we send the foal to Twilight Sparkle, then?” asked Luna.

“Yes, but I mustn't go,” said Celestia. “Neither should you. We need her to cooperate, and she may not, if one of us shows up.”

“This is important enough that she should be able to set aside any ill feelings she has towards you, sister.” said Luna.

Celestia glanced back over her shoulder.

“She should,” said the white horse, “but could she?” She turned fully towards Luna, now, and her eyes softened.

“Could you?”

***

Twilight sat at a reading desk she had requested to be placed in her room. Had she taken the large, royal suite that Cadance had offered her, it would already have been so equipped, but she had felt strange to be offered such finery. Never, even for a moment, had she really felt like a Princess, and after what had happened, she knew that she could never begin to think of herself that way.

She was reading not a book, but a letter. It had come out of the fireplace in Shining Armor's office two hours ago, addressed to her, directly, and her brother had dropped it by her room, himself. In the interval since, she must have read it half a dozen times.

“Why can't things in my past just stay buried, these days?”

She stepped to a window, and opened it. Then, she lit a cigarette, and French inhaled, as she usually did when buried in her thoughts.

“Ghosts of gods,” she mumbled through lips half-shut. “Gonna be a rumble out on the promenade.”

She had smoked over half the cigarette's length when three short, sharp knocks erupted from her door.

“Applejack?” she thought, astonished that she could still recognize her friends by the way they knocked at a door.

“Come in,” she said, and sure enough, behind the opening door stood the earth mare.

“Howdy,” was all that she said. It was the first word she'd spoken to Twilight since arriving.

“Hi,” said Twilight.

“I just came by to say...” Applejack paused, and a peculiar look washed over her face. “I don't know.”

“Well, glad you got that out of the way,” said Twilight.

“Fuck you, Twi,” said Applejack. “How you been?”

“How do you think?” was all that Twilight could say in response.

“My guess?” asked Applejack. “Lonesome.”

“Yeah,” said Twilight. “There was some of that.”

“Hmm,” was Applejack's only response.

Twilight poured a glass of wine from a bottle of good Merlot Cadance had brought her, and took a sip.

“How about you?” she asked. “What's the deal with you and Applebloom?”

“Ah, that's kinda ugly,” said Applejack. “Big Mac got married, Granny Smith got dead, and I got mean as hell. It was all too much for her, I guess. We got into a fight, and I ran her off, like the heartless bitch I am.”

“Applejack, you might be a bitch," said Twilight, "but you're not heartless."

“Tell that to the fellas down in Ponyville,” said Applejack.

“I would, but I'm not going back there. Everything in sight would probably make me cry.”

“What for?” asked Applejack. “You didn't do nothing wrong.”

“Ponyville was my first real home, Applejack. I knew who I was there. Now, I don't know who I am anywhere – least of all here.”

“So you got knocked down,” said Applejack. “Don't know if you've noticed, but we all been knocked down. You just gotta pick yourself up.”

“I can't,” said Twilight flatly. “I tried.”

Applejack sighed, and the sigh slowly morphed into a huff. From the huff, there sprang a shout.

“Then roll over on your belly, Twi, and start climbing the floor! Crawl, goddammit! That's what I did when Momma and Daddy died. It's what I did when Granny Smith died. It's what I did when I got so motherfucking mean my sister-in-law begged my brother into building a separate house on the farm to get her and her foals the hell away from me. It's what I did when I realized I'd drove away damn near everypony I had left in the world to give a shit about!”

Applejack drew a breath, and then spoke more quietly.

“Or to give a shit about me.”

Twilight drew one last puff from her cigarette, then flicked the butt out the window.

“Just don't you dare lay your ass down and die,” said Applejack. “You lay down and die, and we're all just gonna lay down and die right beside you.”

She shook her head.

“We spent all these years hoping that you might come back and prove there was more to what we used to be than some ugly-ass jewelry, Twilight. If it turns out that's all it was, then I reckon I wasted forty bits on a train ticket, and a day I shoulda spent getting a new coat of paint on the barn.”

She turned to leave, and looked back over her shoulder.

“Reckon that's what I came all this way to say.”

She walked away, and slammed the door behind her.

***

Sweetie Belle wandered through the corridors of the crystal palace, confused, irritated, and anxious.

“Hey,” she called out to a passing guard. “Have you seen a white unicorn around here?”

The guard raised an eyebrow, and said nothing.

“Other than me,” she said. “Purple mane and tail, and three diamonds for a cutie mark.”

“Oh,” said the guard. “Yeah, but not in the last hour.”

“Well, where was she?” asked Sweetie Belle.

“Last I saw her, she was going into one of the guest rooms with that pink earth pony,” said the guard. "What's that pink one's name, by the way? She stops and gets kinda hoovesy with me every time she passes by."

"Don't bother," said Sweetie Belle. "Pinkie Pie gets hoovesy with any stallion she thinks might be single."

"Pinkie Pie, eh?" said the stallion. "Thanks."

"She's got three kids," said Sweetie Belle.

"Never mind," said the Stallion.

"Good boy," said Sweetie Belle. "Now, which room was it?"

"Fourth on the right."

"Thanks," she said, and walked off towards the indicated doorway.

It was less than two hours until her show started, and she'd heard no word from Rarity since before noon. She wandered up to the guest rooms, wondering if Rarity would still be there, and if so, how to find which room she even occupied.

It wasn't hard; she could hear her sister's laughter from down the hallway, and followed it to the door, where she stopped and gave a knock.

“Who is it?” This was Pinkie Pie's voice.

“It's Sweetie Belle,” she said. “Is Rarity in there?”

There was no response for several seconds, and then the door opened. Rarity stood before her, swaying slightly. Sweetie Belle could hear Pink Floyd's “Us and Them” playing from somewhere inside, and the air hung heavy with the scent of marijuana smoke.

“Yes, Sweetie?” Rarity asked, plainly.

“The show's in two hours. What are you doing here?”

“Just relaxing with an old friend,” said Rarity, which of course meant she was high.

“Rarity! You can't do this! I need you, tonight.”

“I'll get myself in gear for it, Sweetie; don't worry.”

“Which means what?” asked Sweetie Belle. “You're gonna snort a line on top of whatever you've already been doing in there?”

Rarity sighed. “I'll handle myself. If you need something fixed, just lay it out. I'll be there to do it in about an hour.”

“That's not what I mean,” said Sweetie Belle. “I mean I need you to be there, and be yourself.”

“I am myself,” said Rarity, a hard edge in her voice. Then, her eyes brightened. “Why don't you come in for a moment. You're really uptight, for some reason.”

“Uptight?” asked Sweetie Belle. “I'm worried about you, and I just want you to be somewhere nearby in case I fuck up again.”

“Sweetie, you're fine. You always do well, and nopony ever notices those little flubs here and there. You're trying too hard to be perfect. Now, come inside.”

“No,” said Sweetie Belle, and she headed down the hallway, the way she had come. “Just be there,” she said, not looking back. “Please.”

“I will,” said Rarity, her voice distant.

As she shut the door, and stepped back into the room, Pinkie Pie gave her a peculiar look.

“Is that how things are between you two?” she asked.

“It's nothing,” said Rarity. “That girl has got to learn to stand on her own four hooves.”

“She's just a little nervous, Rarity,” said Pinkie Pie. “She's only been doing this for a little while, now.”

“I know,” said Rarity, “but still...” She shook her head. “I'm going to need something to pick me up.”

“Don't,” said Pinkie Pie. “Please.”

“You're the one that brought the weed and the pills,” said Rarity.

“Well,” said Pinkie, “I wish I hadn't.”

“Don't be like that,” said Rarity. “We were having a good time.”

Pinkie Pie sighed.

“We're getting too old for this, Rarity.”

“Too old?” asked Rarity.

“I mean we have responsibilities, now,” said Pinkie Pie. “I can't let myself do this kinda thing, anymore. What if my foals found out their mom was a junkie party girl? I don't want them to live like I used to.”

“It'll be okay, Pinkie,” said Rarity, doing her best to be reassuring. "You're a far cry from a junkie. Believe me, I know."

“No,” said Pinkie Pie. “I'm done – at least for now. I'm going out for a walk to sober up.”

“Alright,” said Rarity. “I'll just have to run back to my suite at the hotel and pick something up before I head over to the amphitheater.”

“Don't,” said Pinkie Pie.

Rarity sighed, and rolled her eyes just a bit.

“If anypony should know that I know what I'm doing,” said the unicorn,” it's you.”

She opened the door, and stepped out, leaving the earth pony standing alone with the music still playing.

“I hope you do, Rarity,” said Pinkie Pie. “I really do.”

***

Elsewhere in the Crystal City, Applejack sat alone at a bar, staring into an empty glass. The bartender's hoof came into her field of vision, and tapped the empty vessel twice on the rim.

She nodded, and it was quickly refilled. Before she could so much as take a sip, a yellow hoof snatched it away.

“What the hell?” She looked to her left, and was surprised to see Applebloom.

“Only took me three bars to find you,” said her sister. “What are we drinking?”

“Old Granddad One-Fourteen,” said Applejack – to the bartender, who poured her another.

“Gods bless Old Granddad,” said Applebloom, raising her glass.

“And the whiskey that killed him,” said Applejack, raising her glass, as well. “Clink and drink.”

They did, and the bartender refilled both glasses without being asked.

“You're gonna run up a hell of a tab,” said Applebloom.

“I'm charging it to Princess Cadance,” said Applejack.

“Does she know that?” asked Applebloom.

“Would she care?” asked Applejack. “Doubt she keeps her own books.”

“Probably not,” said Applebloom.

Neither pony said anything. They just sat, and sipped in silence. It was their way of making up.

Finally, after each had finished her drink, Applebloom looked at her sister.

“Something I never told you,” she said.

“Huh?” asked Applejack.

“Back when Granny Smith was going downhill there at the end, she started confusing me for you, a lot.”

“She confused everypony for everypony,” said Applejack, “even before she started going downhill.”

“Yeah, but she'd say things to me that she meant for you.”

“Like what?” asked Applejack.

“She'd say, 'Promise me you won't work yourself so hard, today, Applejack. Go into town and talk to some ponies. Find you a nice gentlecolt.' You know; all that sorta thing.”

“She said all those things to me all the time in private,” said Applejack. “You ain't telling me nothing I didn't already know.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured,” said Applebloom. “But I wanted you to know that I didn't just leave home on account of we had a fight. I left home because I thought that maybe if I got gone, and you weren't worried with me all the time, you might take some time for yourself; be a little happier, you know?”

“Is that it, now?” asked Applejack, the emotion dropping out of her voice.

“I'd been thinking of it for awhile,” said Applebloom. “I asked Pinkie Pie, though, and from the sound of it, I don't reckon it worked out that way.” She took a sip of her drink.

“I wish you'd let yourself off,” said Applebloom. “Everypony else has, including me.”

“Fine and dandy,” said Applejack, shrugging. “but still...” She tilted her head back, and stared at the ceiling, a sigh escaping her throat. It came in a long hiss, the product of lungs now too powerful for the body that bore them, strengthened by years of hard labor that had made them stronger while slowly breaking down everything that they fed. Applejack's lips did not open and nostrils did not flare, but Applebloom heard the sound, all the same. Finally, the orange mare spoke once more.

“I'm sorry I said what I said. I ain't gonna say I didn't mean it, but I shoulda had better sense than meaning a thing like that, to begin with.”

“To mean I oughtta get out and do for myself?” asked Applebloom. “Fuck, girl, I needed to hear that shit.”

They said nothing for a while, and then Applejack spoke.

“So what do we do, now?" she asked.

“Get on with living, I suppose.” said Applebloom. “I'll be home for Hearth's Warming. Right now, I gotta go run light and sound cues.”

“Alright,” said Applejack. “See you Hearth's Warming, I suppose.”

“Oh yeah,” said Applebloom, and she reached underneath her vest. “I got something of yours.”

From underneath the khaki vest came nothing other than the Element of Honesty. Applejack almost spat her whiskey on the bartender's face.

“I threw that goddamn thing away,” said Applejack, stunned.

“Yeah,” said Applebloom. “I saw. I went down in the old ravine the next day and found it. I always kept it with me 'cause it sorta made me feel like you were around, somehow. Made me feel at home, you know?"

She gave a short, embarrassed laugh, and turned her eyes away from her sister, not speaking for several seconds.

“I always felt kinda bad about taking it," she finally said, scratching at the back of her head. "You can throw it away again, if you want. I won't go digging for it, this time.”

With that, the younger sister gave a nod, stood, up, and walked away, leaving Applejack alone, staring at the necklace lying on the bar.

“Ugly thing,” said Applejack, draining her glass. “Ugly as hell.”

***

Fluttershy plodded along a corridor of the Crystal Palace. She'd been wandering its halls ever since she and Rarity had returned from a shopping spree that unicorn had insisted upon once she learned that Fluttershy had been unable to bring more than one sweater and her old Winter Wrap-Up vest. It had done little to curb the pegasus' confusion.

“Where do I even go from here?” she asked herself. “Who am I, now? Twilight's back, and I can't go home, and...”

“There you are, Fluttershy!”

The sound of Cadance' voice startled Fluttershy so much that she actually leapt aloft, and hovered briefly before settling back down.

“I'm sorry,” laughed Cadance, who was standing behind the pegasus.

“It's okay,” said Fluttershy. “Just thinking; that's all.”

“Well, okay,” said Cadance. “I just wanted to talk to you. You... Your heart is a little... different, than I remember it.”

“You can just see that, huh?” asked Fluttershy, her face reddening.

“Feel it more than see," said Cadance. "It's what I do."

Fluttershy did not know how to respond.

“You feel kind of... heartsick,” said Cadance; “Longing, regret, shame, anger. That's not how I remember you.”

“How do you remember me, then?” asked Fluttershy.

“Distinctly,” said Cadance. “I always loved it when you were around. It gave me a wonderful feeling. You seemed to carry something with you wherever you went. It was this sort of calm, healing, beautiful... peace.”

“Really?” asked Fluttershy, staring at the floor. “I don't remember peace, Cadance.”

“Could you try?” asked the alicorn.

“What do you mean?” asked the pegasus.

“I have a little sister upstairs who doesn't quite believe in herself, anymore. She keeps locking herself in her room, even though all of her friends are here. I think she could use some of that peace I remember. I guess I was just hoping if you could go and ... well... be Fluttershy.”

“I think Fluttershy's a little broken,” said the pegasus.

“I think so, too,” said Cadance, choking back a tear, and clearing her throat. “Would you go, anyway?”

Fluttershy thought for a moment, and finally decided it could do no harm.

“I'll go,” said Fluttershy. “but I have no idea of what you're hoping for.”

“Nothing,” said Cadance.

So, Fluttershy climbed the stairs, and found her way to Twilight's room.

It wasn't hard to spot; it was the only door on the hallway that was shut.

“Twilight, are you there? It's Fluttershy.”

The door glowed faintly, and opened. Fluttershy stepped inside. The alicorn sat at a desk, smoking, and staring at what appeared to be a letter.

“Hi,” said the pegasus. “We didn't get to talk much, earlier.”

“Wow, Fluttershy.” said Twilight. “You're complaining that you didn't get to talk enough? It must be chilly in Hell, today.”

Fluttershy actually laughed.

“Probably,” she said. “Remember when we met?”

“Yeah,” said Twilight, still not turning her eyes from the letter. “You made squeaking noises.”

“That I did,” sighed Fluttershy.

“Then you freaked out over Spike,” said Twilight, and her shoulders slumped visibly.

Great, thought Fluttershy. I'm making things worse.

She turned, meaning to leave, but then, Twilight spoke again.

“I miss him, Fluttershy,” she said. “I wish I could apologize to him. I don't even know what happened to him. What if he's still alive in that world, stuck as a goddamned dog for the rest of his life? He was supposed to live for thousands of years as this gigantic, majestic... thing. I fuck up, and he gets maybe ten or fifteen years as a mutt – assuming Sunset Shimmer didn't just kill him.”

“If he's still alive,” said Fluttershy, “I'm sure he doesn't blame you. He probably misses you as much as you miss him.”

“More, I'll bet,” said Twilight. “He was really just a child, and he's stuck in a world he doesn't even belong to as a thing he was never meant to be.”

“Well, that's Sunset Shimmer's fault,” said Fluttershy; “not Twilight Sparkle's.”

“Guess so,” sighed Twilight, but Fluttershy could tell from the sound of her voice that she didn't really believe it.

“What about you?” asked the alicorn. “How have you been?”

Fluttershy drew in a breath, meaning to speak. She could find no words. She sighed deeply, and then it came to her.

“Twilight, have you looked at me?” Her voice cracked, and a tear ran down her cheek.

Something about hearing her old friend's composure beginning to crumble managed to pull the alicorn's face away from the letter.

“Yeah,” she said softly, and she stood up. “What happened?”

Fluttershy said nothing. She was in tears, but made not the slightest whimper. It was, by now, a practiced habit.

“Don't want to talk about it?” asked Twilight.

Fluttershy shook her head slowly and gently.

“Well,” said Twilight, her voice uncertain, “is there anything I can do?”

Fluttershy nodded, and then spoke, speaking slowly and carefully to keep her voice under control.

“When everypony else goes home to Ponyville,” she said, “will you ask Cadance if I can stay here? I can't go home.”

“Fluttershy,” said Twilight, “if I have to give you my own bed, I won't make you go home, if you don't want to.”

“Promise?” asked Fluttershy, and she began to sink downward, slowly.

“Promise,” said Twilight.

Fluttershy sank down completely onto her belly.

"Thank you, Twilight," she said. "Tell Cadance she'll never know I'm here."

***

Sweetie Belle felt the panic creeping through her mind well before anyone in the crowd noticed.

Why hadn't Rarity shown up? Her saddle was laced up all wrong; she was sure of it. She missed a step. She forgot a few lyrics. The lights seemed unbearably hot and bright. Why couldn't she hear herself in the monitors?

Then, it hit her: she wasn't singing, anymore. She was somewhere backstage, and the crowd was booing, loudly. It sounded like the droning of a thousand horrors from beyond the gates of Tartaros.

“Get her some water,” was the first thing she understood. It was Scootaloo's voice. Then there was Applebloom standing over her, as well. No; she was kneeling.

She realized that she was huddled on the floor in a fetal position, and Applebloom was stroking her mane.

“Tell the tour manager we can't go on with the tour, right now,” she heard Applebloom say. “We gotta reschedule or cancel or something.”

“We can't do that,” said Scootaloo. “We have to get her back out there. Where the hell is Rarity?”

“Nopony's seen her!” said Applebloom. “Look at her, Scoots. She's having a full-blown freak-out. Tell Sapphire Shores' crew she needs to go ahead and get started.”

“We're only fifteen minutes in!” shouted Scootaloo. “We can't just kill the show!”

“Well, do you wanna sing!?” asked Applebloom, angrily.

“Oh, haha.” said Scootaloo.

“What the hell is all this?” It was Rarity's voice, and Sweetie Belle lifted her head, slightly.

“Your fault!” shouted Scootaloo. “That's what it is!”

“Rarity?” it was the first word Sweetie Belle had uttered since running backstage in a fit of panic.

“What is it, Sweetie?” asked her sister, kneeling beside her. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” said Applebloom. “She's having a panic attack, or something.”

“Sweetie,” said Scootaloo, “if you're gonna unfuck yourself, now would be a good time. Ponies are leaving.”

“I can't do it,” said Sweetie Belle. “Not after that.”

Rarity surveyed the scene through hazy eyes.

It was, indeed, her fault. She hadn't meant to pass out, of course, but it was a risk she never should have taken. Pinkie's words about responsibility rolled through her mind, but she shut them out, quickly.

They would do no good, now.

***

At the same time Sweetie Belle was succumbing to her panic attack, Rainbow Dash sat in the dining room of the palace, hunched over in a dining chair. She felt horrible.

“Are you alright?” Twilight Sparkle spoke from somewhere nearby.

“Nuh-uh” was all the pegasus could manage.

“What's wrong?” Fluttershy's voice, she was sure, but it sounded a little hoarse, for some reason.

“Dizzy,” said Rainbow Dash. “Water. Get me some water.”

Twilight walked away at a fast trot, leaving Fluttershy.

“What's going on?” asked the pegasus, squatting down to bring her face into Rainbow Dash's view. Her eyes were puffy and red, even above and beyond what the inflamation around her stitched-up eyebrow should warrant.

“I'll explain in a minute,” said Rainbow Dash. “Just gotta get something to drink.”

She was badly dehydrated from repeated bouts of nausea.

Twilight returned with a glass of water, and Rainbow Dash guzzled it quickly.

“It's getting worse” mumbled Rainbow Dash.

“What's getting worse?” asked Twilight. “Are you okay?”

“Take me somewhere I can lie down,” said the pegasus.

They helped her to her hooves, and guided her to a couch in an adjacent room.

“Guys,” she said, “I might be done.”

“What do you mean, 'done?'” asked Twilight.

Rainbow Dash covered her eyes with a foreleg to shield them from the light.

“I've got a head problem. Too many concussions; maybe an inner ear thing, too,” she said. “They grounded me, and if this doesn't go away, I'm out of the Wonderbolts.”

“Oh, no,” said Fluttershy.

“Rainbow, I'm sorry,” said Twilight.

“Stop saying that,” said Rainbow Dash. “It's just bad luck; that's all.”

“It's your dream, though,” said Twilight; “all you ever wanted to do or be.”

“Yeah?” asked Rainbow Dash. “Well, I got it, didn't I?”

“Yes,” said Twilight, “but...”

“Put a lid on it,” said Rainbow Dash. “Stewing over this won't do me any good.”

“Could you fix it with magic, maybe?” asked Fluttershy.

“Not something like this,” said Twilight. “Chronic problems aren't usually receptive to magical treatment, and when it does work, the side-effects can be extreme.”

“Yeah,” said Rainbow Dash. “I read a little on it.”

“I'll bet you did,” said Twilight, touching her friend's shoulder.

Author's Note

I originally had the scene where Rarity asked Fluttershy to go shopping with her as more than a passing line, here, but it got absolutely nothing done. I hate when a scene doesn't accomplish anything, so I cut it. One of the few things I'm really disappointed in about this story is that I didn't get more Rarity/Fluttershy scenes into it, but Rarity is preoccupied with her own problems and with Sweetie Belle, and I felt that was more important for me to explore.

Cadance was a lot of fun for me. I liked the idea of her not just taking the shortcut of using magic to fix everyone's interpersonal problems. I used her as sort of a conniving, almost Gandalf-like character, here, but in a good way. She just wants everypony to be happy and to be friends, again, and I think that comes across.

Magnificent Failures

Magnificent Failure

The morning after Sweetie Belle's aborted performance, Rarity got up early, and headed for the Palace. She couldn't bear to be in the hotel. Every time she saw her sister's face, she was overcome with a deep sense of failure and regret.

With the help of a guard, she found Twilight's room, and knocked on the door. It opened for her glowing faint purple, and she entered to find the alicorn sitting upright in bed, her mane frazzled and unkempt.

“Well, how do you do, my lovely Princess?” asked the unicorn.

“Don't even ask,” said Twilight, but she continued to speak, anyway. “I come back here, and find all my friends lives are in shambles. I feel like it's my fault, somehow; like I could have done something about it all, if I had been there.”

“Maybe,” said Rarity, “and maybe not. I'm sure we all could have done a bang-up job fucking ourselves over, with or without you around.”

“Wait,” said Twilight. “Aren't you supposed to be on a train to Sweetie's next show, by now?”

“Tour's canceled,” said Rarity.

“What happened?” asked Twilight.

“The short version is that I let somepony down who was relying on me,” said Rarity.

“Haven't we all?” sighed Twilight.

“I suppose so,” said Rarity.

Twilight lit a cigarette, and the two sat in silence.

“We are disasters,” Twilight half-laughed, after a minute. “All of us.”

“I know,” said the unicorn, also laughing, quietly and bitterly. “But I always knew that, and so did you.”

“We were all so unworthy,” said Twilight; “just totally unworthy.”

“We were just there,” said Rarity. “The Elements just latched onto us as a matter of convenience.”

“I meant unworthy of each other,” said Twilight, shaking her head. “Fuck the Elements.”

“Oh, ye gods,” said Rarity, incredulous. “I never thought I'd hear you say that.”

“Well, you just heard it.” said Twilight, flicking her white lighter repeatedly, watching the flame burst again and again into existence from where the little Bic floated in front of her face.

“And now, I'm gonna ask you all for something huge, and I don't know what any of you will say.”

“What's that?” asked Rarity.

“To stand beside me while I set off a bomb,” said Twilight.

“Sounds like a blast,” said Rarity.

Twilight cringed at Rarity's pun, but said nothing.

“So, what sort of a bomb are we talking about?” asked the white unicorn, doing her best to sound cheerful.

Twilight looked directly at her.

“Shimmershine.”

Rarity's eyes widened.

“That's one hell of a bomb.”

“Wait 'til you hear the rest,” said Twilight.

“Darling, I simply cannot wait,” said Rarity.

“I'll tell you all later, after breakfast,” said Twilight.

“Shimmershine,” said Rarity. “Cenasolus. Wow. Of all things.”

“I know,” said Twilight. “Seems like everything that dies really does come back, even if you wished it would stay dead.”

She dropped the butt of her cigarette in an ashtray, and immediately lit another one.

“What kills me, though, Rares, is this: Here I sit, thinking back to that thing; how many worlds it had destroyed and how old it must be and how huge the universe has to be for a thing like that to even exist, and I can't help but wonder: Is it possible that somewhere out in all of that, there's a version of us where we're all actually happy? Where the “magic of friendship” really does just solve every problem, every time? Where we're not complete fuck-ups, and everything didn't go to shit?”

Rarity stared out the window, and after a few moments, she shrugged.

“Who cares?” she asked.

She telekinetically snatched Twilight's cigarette right from her lips, and brought it to her own. Then, she took a deep drag, and gave Twilight a smug little smirk.

“We're not them, are we?”

***

Lyra stepped off the train from Canterlot, Shimmershine close behind her.

“This place is beautiful,” she said.

Shimmershine said nothing. He'd been told he was going to the Crystal City to see somepony who could help him get rid of his nightmares, but he had no idea who that pony might be.

“Ms. Heartstrings?” said a deep, bass voice.

Lyra turned, expecting to see a guard, and was stunned to see Prince Shining Armor, standing with a small armed escort, and smiling at her.

“What a couple of days,” she mumbled, bowing quickly.

Shimmershine quickly did likewise.

“Uh, thanks,” said the Prince, as they stood up. Shining Armor's armed guards chuckled as the mare and the colt resumed their normal posture.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I kinda have a standing order that nopony do that for me around here. Feels weird; I just married into this, after all.”

“Ah,” was all that Lyra could say to respond.

“There's a carriage waiting to take us to the castle to see Twilight,” said Shining Armor.

“Twilight's here!?” came Lyra's stunned reply.

Shining Armor scratched the back of his neck.

“Guess word gets back to Ponyville kinda slow,” he said. “Yeah, she's here.”

Suddenly, Lyra felt deeply relieved. At least her son would be in the hooves of somepony she actually knew, albeit from years ago.

“Come on,” said the Prince, gesturing for them to follow.

“How is she?” asked Lyra.

“She's Twilight,” said Shining Armor. “If you knew her at all, she's basically what you remember, I guess. Just keep in mind, she probably doesn't want to answer a lot of questions.”

“Of course,” said Lyra.

Shimmershine tugged at Lyra's tail with his teeth.

“Mom, who's Twilight?”

Lyra turned, and looked down at Shimmershine.

“She's a Princess,” she said.

“Like Princess Luna?” asked Shimmershine. He had apparently been quite taken with the Moon Goddess, and Lyra giggled at his inquisition.

“Something like that,” she said. “You'll like her.”

***

“So, you're pretty much about to go head-to-head with a bunch of dead gods?”

Rainbow Dash was sipping at a glass of water. It was the only thing that seemed to relieve her near-constant nausea. The ponies were all sitting in the dining hall of the Crystal Palace, and as promised, Twilight had been explaining to them what she was about to do.

“Hopefully not,” said Twilight, giving her a stern look. “The idea is to help Shimmershine remember what he used to be so that maybe he can contain them.”

“So, you're turning him back into that thing he was before?” asked Applejack, chewing on a toothpick.

“Sort of,” said Twilight, “but he'll still remember being a pony, too.”

“What will that do to the poor kid?” asked Pinkie Pie.

“Pinkie,” said Twilight, “I have no idea, but I have no choice.”

“She's right,” said Rarity. “As bad as Cenasolus was, this sounds even worse. We can't risk letting these things into our world.”

Fluttershy nodded somberly.

“That's why I just wanted to ask you all...”

“Answer's 'yes,'” said Applejack.

“You didn't let me...” Twilight began, but was quickly cut off.

"I'll stay close,” said Rainbow Dash.

“Well, that's nice of you, Rainbow,” said Twilight, “but I hardly think you should speak for...”

“I'm in,” said Rarity. “I made up my mind about that earlier.”

“Me too,” said Fluttershy.

“Me five,” said Pinkie, and she shrugged. “I was counting.”

“What is wrong with all of you?” asked Twilight.

“Pathological attraction to mortal peril, here.” said Rainbow Dash. “Can't say a damned thing for the rest of them.”

“Fantastic,” said Twilight. “Show tune, anyone? No?”

“Not in the mood,” said Applejack, sipping from her flask.

“Applejack,” said Rarity, from across the table, “are you having whiskey for breakfast?”

“After breakfast,” said Applejack. “There's a difference.” The orange pony put her flask back into a pocket of her flannel jacket.

“It's just like old times,” said Twilight, withdrawing a cigarette from where she kept the pack in a white sweatband strapped high on her left foreleg like a greaser would use the rolled-up sleeve of his T-shirt. She withdrew her lighter from next to it, and struck up a flame. “We're still a bunch of fucking morons."

***

“This way,” said Cadance, leading the six ponies. “Shining brought them in earlier.”

She sensed Twilight's heart beginning to sink as she realized where she and her friends were being led, and she lagged her pace a bit to walk beside her.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “It's the only empty room in the Palace. It would have looked suspicious to empty out any of the others, and nopony needs to know what's going on here if they aren't already involved.”

“Pretty soon,” said Twilight, “everypony might be involved.”

“But for now, they're not, and I'd like to keep it that way. We can throw a blanket over it, if you'd like,” said Cadance.

“No,” said Twilight. “What's done is done. Besides, it might just be the incentive I need to get something right, for a change.”

“Twilight,” said Fluttershy, softly. “Don't do that to yourself.”

As the door to the chamber opened, all the ponies stopped, each one grappling in her own way with the deluge of memories that overwhelmed them in the face of the ancient, magical mirror. Lyra, Shining Armor, and of course, Shimmershine all stood in front of it, but not a single eye was turned to them.

“Twilight Sparkle,” said Lyra, “it really is you.”

“Yeah,” said Twilight staring past the unicorn and into the mirror. “It's me, alright.”

“Can you help him?” Lyra asked.

“We'll see,” said Twilight, and she looked down at the little foal. He stared up at her, wide eyed.

“Am I supposed to bow?” he asked.

Twilight giggled quietly.

“Not to me,” she said. “I'm just a pony, like you.”

“But you're an alicorn,” said the colt, “and Mom said you were a Princess.”

“Did she, now?” asked Twilight raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” said Shimmershine. “She was telling me stories about you, before.”

“Shush, Shim,” said Lyra.

Twilight smiled a little.

“It's okay,” she said, looking up.

“Did Celestia explain the risks involved in this to you?” she asked, looking at the green unicorn.

“Yes,” said Lyra, “but I don't think you'd do this if you thought it would hurt him, Twilight.”

“It won't hurt him,” said Twilight, “but it could hurt you.” She took a step towards her.

“He'll change. It's unavoidable. Is that okay with you?”

She looked down at the foal.

“And is it okay with you?” she asked.

“I just want them to go away,” said the foal, desperately, and his eyes teared up a little.

Twilight gave the colt a look of pure pity. The letter had explained a little about the nature of his nightmares, but seeing him now, she realized that as far as he knew, he was just another colt. That made it all the more cruel that he should have had to endure these things.

It also made it all the more cruel for her to do what she had been asked to do.

She knelt, and looked into his eyes.

“Shim, would you care if you found out you used to be somepony else? Somepony completely different than who you've been your whole life? Maybe even somepony who did some things that you never would have done?”

Shimmershine seemed terribly confused, his eyes showing the blank stare of a child unable to process something beyond his comprehension.

“Does that even matter?” asked Lyra.

Twilight looked at the foal, then at his mother.

“Of course it matters,” she said.

“Twilight,” said Lyra. “Just do what you think is right.”

Twilight felt a weight descend on her heart. There really was no choice.

“Alright,” she said.

She leaned forward, and touched the tip of her horn gently to Shimmershine's forehead. He looked into her eyes, and began to breathe heavily.

“Don't worry,” she said, and he seemed to calm, slightly.

Shutting her eyes, she thought back to the incident that had set these events in motion, and of how Shimmershine had come to be as he was. As those moments flooded back through her mind, she felt them flowing into the memory of the colt.

When she opened her eyes again, Shimmershine's expression had changed. He appeared horrified, but also distant, his eyes glazed and unmoving. His pupils began to dilate.

“Shim?” asked Lyra, touching him on the shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Shimmershine said nothing, but sank slowly to the floor.

“Twilight,” Lyra's eyes filled with panic. “What's going on?

“I don't know,” said Twilight. “This wasn't supposed to happen.”

“What do you mean, 'wasn't supposed to happen?'” asked Lyra, frantically.

“I've used this spell a half a dozen times, at least,” said Twilight, her voice growing defensive. “It's never done this, before.”

“Cadance,” said Shining Armor. “Send Celestia a letter. This could be serious.”

“Serious, how?” asked Lyra, panic growing in her voice.

“We can't tell,” said Shining Armor. “That's the problem.”

“Will he be okay?” asked Lyra.

“There's no way to know,” said Twilight. She tried to keep her words calm, but she could see the colt's mother could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

“Celestia will know what to do,” said Cadance, trying to calm the panicked mare.

Twilight knew better. This had been Celestia's idea. If she had anticipated such a thing, she would have offered some warning.

“We'll take him to the infirmary,” said Shining Armor. “I'll have the doctor look at him.”

He levitated the limp colt onto his own back, and walked towards the door. Lyra followed him.

“I'll go get word to Celestia,” said Cadance, following her husband toward the door.

“What about us?” asked Twilight.

“Stay here,” said Cadance, stopping to look back at the six mares. “All of you,” she said, looking at Twilight's friends each in turn. “We might need your help.”

“What can we do?” asked Fluttershy. “The elements of Harmony don't even work anymore, and if they did, they're not even here.”

“Uh, I've got mine,” said Rainbow Dash. She opened up her jacket, and sure enough, it was there.

“Me too,” said Pinkie Pie.

Applejack sighed.

“Yeah, mine's here, too. Not my idea, but it's here.”

“Well, I never get rid of jewelry,” said Rarity. “Never know when something's going to be just the thing to really make an outfit; It's in my hotel room.”

“Well, I...” Fluttershy stopped mid-sentence. “That's right,” she said. “I did bring mine... how strange.”

“You all kept those things?” asked Twilight. “They're useless.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better,” said Applejack. “I threw the damned thing away. “Found it's way back to me, though.”

“Well,” said Twilight, “I don't see much chance of that for mine.”

“Look,” said Cadance, stepping back towards her sister, and placing a hoof on her shoulder. “I don't care if the Elements work, or not. You're still Twilight Sparkle, and we might need you.”

“As for the rest of you,” she said, turning to face the others, “just be yourselves.”

She stepped out of the room, and left the ponies standing in a circle.

Twilight looked at the mirror, and her body slackened, slightly.

“Come on,” she said. “I don't want to stay here.”

***

Rainbow Dash stumbled out of her bathroom for the third time that day. She had been woefully ill since shortly after the incident with the foal, but she would not allow herself to stay hidden away.

“Twilight might crack if she doesn't have us all close by,” she mumbled to herself. “She never was all that great under pressure.”

As she stepped into the hall, she was surprised to bump into Scootaloo.

“Hey!” said the orange pegasus. Then, her brow furrowed. “You don't look so good.”

“I know,” said Rainbow Dash. “Been sick.”

“You?” asked Scootaloo. “Never.”

“Ah, it's nothing,” said Rainbow Dash. “What are you doing here?”

“Applebloom and Sweetie Belle said we should all have family time.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Ah,” said Rainbow Dash, “and you came looking for me?”

“Well, yeah,” said Scootaloo. “You're my honorary big sis, right? How's life?”

“Awesome as always,” said Rainbow Dash, and a wave of vertigo and nausea hit her. She turned, and ran back for her restroom.

“What the hell!?” shouted Scootaloo, following her. As she came into the bathroom, she found her old idol bent over the toilet.

“Uh, Rainbow Dash,” she said. “This doesn't look like 'nothing.'”

Scootaloo was the last pony in the world that Rainbow Dash wanted seeing her like this.

“Least my stomach's empty,” she mumbled to herself. As if in response, she felt her guts twist into a knot. There was nothing left to come out, and she he gave several dry heaves before settling back against the wall opposite the toilet.

There was no use in trying to hide it.

“It's over for me, Scoot. They're gonna ground me.” Her head began to ache, and she rubbed at it with her hooves. “I've got...”

“Head problems,” said Scootaloo. “Fluttershy mentioned it when I asked her where your room was.”

“You knew?” asked Rainbow Dash, looking up at the wavering, unsteady image of the younger pegasus.

“Yeah,” said Scootaloo, quietly.

“The doctor thought a little time off might help me,” said Rainbow Dash. “I don't think it's working.”

“Don't give up, yet,” said Scootaloo. “Maybe it'll get better.”

“Maybe,” said Rainbow Dash, “but how long can I really hold a thing like this off?”

“I don't know,” said Scootaloo, “but you gotta try.”

Rainbow Dash shook her head.

“I think maybe I should just resign before I get somepony killed,” she said. “Like me, for instance.”

“Is that really it,” asked Scootaloo, “or do you just wanna go out on your own terms?”

“Both, I guess,” said Rainbow Dash.

“So, you're gonna quit?”

“I guess so, Scootaloo,” said Rainbow Dash.

“I never thought I'd see the day that Rainbow M.F. Dash counted herself out,” said the orange mare, sadly.

“When you're done, you're done,” said Rainbow Dash. “That's just life.”

“But you're not done,” said Scootaloo. “I don't believe it.”

Rainbow Dash sighed. She was beginning to feel better, and she managed to stand.

“I don't wanna believe it, either,” she said, “but I think it's time.”

She stepped past Scootaloo, and headed for the hallway.

“Hey,” said Scootaloo.

Rainbow Dash stopped, and turned to face her.

“Yeah?”

“You remember all those times I told you that I wanted to be like you?”

Rainbow Dash recoiled slightly.

“Of course I do,” she said.

“Just making sure,” said Scootaloo.

***

“So?” asked Luna, looking at the brief letter that had come out of Celestia' hearth not an hour earlier.

“We have to go,” said Celestia. “Sorry, but you're going to miss some sleep.”

“I doubt I would have slept well, anyway,” said Luna. She pulled a gold chain hanging by Celestia's bed. A unicorn mare wearing a maid's outfit stepped into the room.

“Coffee,” said Luna. “Lots of it.”

The mare turned, and left without a word.

“Black as my heart!” shouted Luna after her.

Celestia laughed.

“Still playing that angle?” she asked, stepping to her mini bar, and pouring herself a glass of cognac.

“It keeps the little things off my desk,” said Luna. “With you, every time there's a leaky faucet, somepony comes whining. After all, you're just Celestia; you'd never be upset with anypony.”

“Of course not,” said Celestia, “but to my recollection, I haven't been bothered with the plumbing, quite yet.”

“Hyperbole,” said Luna, rolling her eyes. “Now, what of Shimmershine?”

“Luna, I haven't decided.” Celestia's shoulders slumped. “I know what I should do, but...” She gritted her teeth, and her cheek twitched slightly.

“The gray areas never were comfortable for you, were they?” asked Luna.

Celestia shook her head silently.

“If it comes to it,” said Luna, “you can leave it to me. What's a little more blood on these filthy hooves?”

“It's too much, is what it is,” said Celestia. “I'm not going to let you bear my burden.”

“Don't play martyr with me,” growled Luna, scowling, but then her expression softened. “Your burden is also mine. Never forget that.”

“Well, I'm tired of it,” said Celestia. “Choose always the needs of the many over needs of the few,” she sneered; “an old aphorism that governs those who govern, if they mean to govern well.'

“To be righteous and worthy,” she continued, not looking at her sister. “Isn't that what we were taught? To follow the rules? To learn all those old aphorisms, and to take into ourselves every piece of wisdom we could, so that when the hard decisions came, we would always know that we had done the right thing, even if it did not always feel that way?”

Luna nodded silently.

“That was the way we were taught,” said the younger sister. “That the sun and the moon should always rise on the righteous and the wicked, alike.”

"Even if some of the righteous -- the innocent -- must perish," said Celestia, and her voice cracked as next she said, "I hate that rule."

"So did they," said Luna. "Why do you think they made the Elements? They were a way to save everypony; to redeem the irredeemable, even when it seemed impossible."

"I suppose that dream is a failure, as well," said Celestia.

"Not yet," said Luna.

***

Sweetie Belle stood at the door of Rarity's hotel room. She could hear music from inside; loud music. That always meant the same thing.

“Why do I even bother?” she asked herself, but something in her tugged her hoof upward.

She knocked.

The music softened, somewhat, and the door opened. Rarity stood there, red-eyed.

“Yes?” was all she said. The word was strange and distant.

“We're going home,” said Sweetie Belle. “All the staff and everything. The label wants us to restart the tour in the Spring. If we don't, they drop me.”

Rarity said nothing.

“Do you even care?” asked Sweetie Belle, her face hardening.

“I...” Rarity shook her head, trying to clear it. “I care, Sweetie, but there's a lot more going on here, right now. I'm just really stressed out.”

“Oh?” asked Sweetie Belle, accusingly. “You don't look like it, for some reason.”

“Sweetie Belle,” said Rarity, leaning into the doorframe. “Please.”

“Please, what?” asked the younger mare.

Rarity shook her head, slightly.

“Nothing,” she said.

Sweetie Belle sighed, and walked away towards her own room.

Rarity shut the door behind her, and locked it.

She walked back towards her dresser. Upon it there sat a small candle, a box of matches, and a spoon. She needed something a little stronger than usual. The incident with Shimmershine had left her anxious, and her usual go-to remedy for her day-to-day anxiety, a Demerol and half a Valium, was not helping her relax.

More and more often these days, it seemed to not be enough.

“Gods,” she said, “Here you are with all your friends within easy reach for the first time in years, and what are you doing?”

She walked to her bed, and lay down.

“Gods, I feel like hell,” she said, and after a few moments, she shrugged, and sat up.

She felt like hell most days.

The unicorn dragged herself unwillfully from her bed. She left the room without returning to her dresser, and walked to Sweetie Belle's door. She knocked, and in a few moments her sister answered.

“May I come in?” asked Rarity.

Sweetie Belle stepped to the side. She stumbled slightly, clearly drunk, but Rarity paid it no mind.

The place was a mess. Dirty clothes lay everywhere, and an empty gin bottle sat on the nightstand. Rarity was not surprised. Sweetie's hotel rooms always looked this way.

“Listen,” she said, turning around as Sweetie Belle shut the door. “There's something really, really important going on, right now. I may not be able to come home, right away. When I get back, though, I'm going to find a way to make this up to you, alright?”

Sweetie Belle said nothing for a few moments. Then, she licked her lips and spoke.

“Okay,” she said. “Please take care of yourself.”

“I will,” said Rarity, and she left the room without a further word.

As she walked back to her room, Rarity felt her heart sinking. She would never "make this up" to her sister. She would try, of course, but in the end, something like this would happen again. The exact circumstances would be different, but the result would be the same, despite the particulars: She and Sweetie Belle would be just a little farther apart, and a little closer to the day they finally parted ways for good.

As she entered her room, she stared down at the candle on her dresser.

“What am I even worrying about?” she asked. “We'll all be dead, soon.”

She struck a match, and held it to the candle's wick, breathing in the smell of sulfur.

“What's one more little waltz with the white horse if it keeps me on my hooves until then?”

***

Pinkie Pie gave Twilight Sparkle a curious little smile. The pair were standing on the balcony overlooking the Crystal City, and the sun was moving slowly through the western sky. The day since Twilight had cast her memory spell on Shimmershine had been long, somber, and empty of words.

“What do you think Princess Celestia will want to do?” asked Pinkie Pie.

“Fuck me if I know,” said the alicorn, pulling her wine glass away from her lips, and setting it on a table.

Pinkie Pie smiled again, and her smile turned into a laugh.

“What are you laughing at?” asked Twilight, her speech slightly slurred.

“Everything,” said Pinkie Pie. “You come back, and then all this just happens. It's like it was meant to be.”

“If there's anything my life has taught me,” said Twilight, “it's that nothing's meant to be.” She lit a cigarette, and took a drag, French inhaling. “Nothing.”

“So, you're saying we just got lucky?” asked Pinkie Pie.

“Lucky?” asked Twilight. “Ghosts. Of. Gods.” She shook her head.

“Pinkie, we're fucked. This is probably the end of the world.”

“But you came back,” said Pinkie Pie. “We thought you were dead, and you came back. I think that means something.”

“Is that what your Pinkie Sense is telling you?” asked Twilight, skeptically.

“Nopers,” said Pinkie Pie. “Not a twitch or an itch, all day. I just have faith in you, that's all.”

“No place for faith in this world, Pinkie Pie. No matter what you believe in or rely on, eventually it's gonna let you down.”

“That's silly,” said Pinkie Pie.

“It's the truth,” said Twilight.

Pinkie Pie felt her heart beginning to sink. She thought of Shimmershine lying unconscious in the Palace infirmary, and her thoughts strayed to her own foals back in Ponyville.

“I named my daughter after you,” she said suddenly, uncertain herself of why she had said it.

“Huh?” Twilight gave Pinkie a stunned look.

“Yeah,” said Pinkie, “and I named my oldest son after Spike.” She gnawed at her lower lip.

“I did that because I thought both of you were gone forever, and I never wanted to forget either one of you. Then, you came back.” She shrugged. “That was impossible as far as I was concerned, but it happened.”

“Your point being?” asked the alicorn.

“Well, sometimes, you get second chances.” She shrugged. “Sometimes the impossible happens.”

Twilight sipped at her wine, but said nothing.

After several seconds, there was a flash from the sun, and both ponies looked up.

Celestia and Luna were descending in a slow, lazy spiral.

“You want me to go?” asked Pinkie Pie.

“Yeah,” said Twilight. “That would be best.”

As Pinkie Pie walked away, the alicorn lit another cigarette. She used to avoid letting Celestia see her smoke, but she didn't care, anymore.

As the two sisters landed on the balcony, Twilight turned her eyes outward, over the city. She did not want to look at either of them.

They stood there, all three of them, not a word spoken. To her own surprise, it was Twilight who finally cut apart the silence.

“I'm sorry,” she said, her voice quivering. “I never said that to you, but I was always sorry.”

“I always knew,” said Celestia.

“Oh, I do not want to be here for this,” said Luna. “I am going to find a bed.” She trotted towards the door.

“Twilight,” she said in passing, “good to see you.” She stopped, and turned to face her. “Princess,” she said, grinning mischievously, and then she walked through the door.

“Well, she hasn't changed,” said Twilight.

“She never does,” said Celestia. “If she did, I would go mad.”

“So, what do we do?” asked Twilight.

“I will have to see him to decide,” said Celestia.

“He's in the infirmary,” said Twilight. “My doing.”

“No,” said Celestia. “Mine; you were just a tool.”

“Hmph,” was Twilight's only response.

“I used you too much that way.” said Celestia. “I always had such high hopes for you that I sometimes forgot that you were still just a little filly – excuse me – a little mare, who needed a chance to just... live.”

She walked over, and sat beside Twilight, who still had not stood.

“You know,” said Celestia. “Taken as a whole, pony kind depresses me. The only thing that makes it worth my time anymore is that very occasionally, it produces magnificent individuals.”

She reached out a wing, and touched Twilight on the shoulder.

“I knew you were just such an individual the moment I met you. I suppose I just forgot that sometimes even the magnificent can fail.”

“So I'm a magnificent failure?” asked Twilight, not looking at Celestia. She inhaled from her cigarette, and flicked the ash away from its tip with a hoof.

“Maybe,” said Celestia, “but still magnificent. I'll talk to you later. Sober up a bit, first, okay?”

Twilight nodded as Celestia withdrew her wing, and stood up.

“Princess?” said Twilight, lifting her head.

Celestia turned, and they locked eyes.

“What will you do with him?” She swallowed. “Shimmershine, I mean.”

“What I must, Twilight,” said Celestia; “Whatever I decide is best.”

Author's Note

Around this chapter was the point where I realized I had a decision to make: Either these ponies would be destroyed by their flaws, or they would rise above them. I've endured a lot of failure and disappointment in my own life. Everything you see in these characters is something that has been or still is wrong with me. I guess the rest of this book tells a lot about my own attitudes and perspectives.

Defy

Lyra stared at her stricken son.

His eyes were open, but there was nothing behind them. Her one consolation was that he did still breathe, but who knew if he would ever awaken from this mindless torpor?

“He'll be okay,” she said. “He's strong.”

She was lying to herself, and she knew it. Shimmershine had never been strong. He had always been a fearful child, and his life had given him reason to be. He had been barely three when he had first asked why he had two mothers instead of a mother and father, like other foals. He had been not yet four when one of those mothers had walked away from him without so much as a goodbye, never to return.

He had lived his life since then in a cold, constant fear that he would be left alone; that Lyra and everypony else, like Bon Bon, would one day decide they just did not want him, anymore. Lyra had made it the mission of her life to ensure that he always knew she would be there to keep him safe and to watch over him. Still, however, it had been a constant theme of his existence; a fear of loneliness and isolation that seemed to form the core of his whole being. Now, in the last couple of days, she had finally learned from whence that fear had most likely sprung.

He had been alone for longer than she could even begin to imagine, and what little power she had ever believed she had to stave off the cold specter of solitude that haunted the little colt, she began at last to realize was feeble and utterly inadequate. Now, in his moment of greatest need, she could do nothing to stand against even greater specters – things that she could not even pretend to understand.

Never in all her life had she felt so great a sense of smallness, weakness, and impotence.

“Is there no mercy?” she asked aloud, almost screaming. “In all of this universe, is there no FUCKING mercy?”

She broke down.

***

Celestia listened at the door of Shimmershine's room in the infirmary. She could hear Lyra Heartstrings screams, and then she heard her begin to sob. She resisted the urge to do so herself.

Who she was forbade that she allow herself to feel, and never more so than at times like these, when her feelings would cloud her judgment.

“Choose not what is good; Choose what is best,” she whispered to herself. “Has this not always been your way?”

But why? Why was this her way?

She half-collapsed to lean against the wall, breathing heavily. Her face hardened, and she set her jaw tightly.

Why could she not have been born an ordinary pony? Why was this her lot? Why must she be so old, and yet appear so young? Why must it fall to her to choose the fate of an entire world? Why must she always choose to do whatever would bring about the most good and cause the least harm, even if it meant betraying her own heart?

She thought back to her earlier conversation with Twilight, not ten minutes past. She had been an inspiration to that little mare, once upon a time. She had guided her; been more mother to the little unicorn than teacher, in many ways. She had watched her grow, watched her change, and watched her earn the respect, trust, and friendship of others. She had placed in her the hopes, dreams, and future of every single pony in Equestria when she had trusted her to stand with those friends against the greatest perils of their age.

It had been madness, but had she not done it? Why now, then, must she do this terrible thing? Would it be so unthinkable just once more to trust in madness? Would it be so impossible to follow her heart?

“I am Celestia,” she whispered. “My will be done.”

"Caelestia sum," she growled, repeating once more, "I am Celestia," in her forgotten mother tongue, and she gritted her teeth.

She picked herself up off the wall, and knocked at the door.

It glowed pale green, and opened to her.

Lyra did not bow. She was too exhausted, sitting on her haunches, staring at the floor.

She said nothing, and neither did Celestia.

She walked to the colt's bed, and stared down at his open, mindless eyes.

For awhile, she said nothing. She simply looked into those eyes – cold, empty, and pale green.

“I could end this, right now,” she said. “One spell; one thrust of my horn, and Equestria could have peace.”

Lyra winced. She would be powerless to stop the Princess in every respect, -- size, magic, and force of will -- should Celestia choose to make good on her observation.

“But I recall, now, a promise,” said Celestia. “Once, I told a being which had no name for itself that I would help it to discover what it meant to love and to be loved – to have friends; to have family.”

Lyra lifted her head.

“That oath shall stand inviolate,” said Celestia, “unto my death.” She paused. “Unto the end of the world.”

***

Luna stepped onto the balcony and looked towards the eastern horizon. She had found a bed, but as expected, sleep had not been forthcoming. As the moon peeked over the edge of the world, she stopped, and gave it a long, peaceful look. How many times had she seen it this way?

“So many,” she said to herself, “and yet not nearly enough.” She smiled. “How good it is to be alive.”

She stood alone, staring into that distant, silver sphere, now and forever embossed with a vague likeness of the black goddess of nightmares she had once become. She had been there for several minutes when she heard her sister's voice.

“I could not do it.”

“I am glad,” said Luna, not turning her eyes from the moon.

“All the world depends on one act of cold, justifiable logic, and at last, I cannot do it.” Celestia came to stand beside her sister, and hung her head. “I am pathetic,” she said, her voice cracking.

“You say that,” said Luna, “but I wonder what Mother and Father would have thought of you, right now.”

“It does not matter,” said Celestia. “They are gone, and the world they left in our care may well be damned because of my unwillingness to do what must be done.”

“Perhaps,” said Luna, “but insofar as I am concerned, it may be for the best."

Luna bit down hard on her lower lip, then spoke again.

"I am very fond of your soul, Celestia. I would be distraught to know that you had lost it.”

“What good is it for me to hold fast to my soul if I should lose the whole world?” asked Celestia.

“Some would ask the inverse,” said Luna.

“They are fools,” said Celestia.

Luna turned to her sister.

“Yes,” said Luna, “What is one soul compared to the whole world?”

Celestia looked up into the moon.

“Ponies live their whole lives asking those sorts of questions,” she said, “only to learn there is no answer. We see it again and again.”

“And in the end, when it is too late,” said Luna, “they realize that they should have simply done what made them happy, rather than staring into the sky in search of answers that did not exist.”

"The futility of it sickens me," said Celestia, hanging her head. “Have I failed, Luna?”

“You,” said the almost-black alicorn, “who trade the entire world for one life – for her very integrity; you ask this one, your traitorous sister, Luna, whose heart has been so marred by envy and hate, whether you have failed, as if she had some right to pass judgment on such an act.”

“No one does, but you, sister,” said Celestia. “Who else is fit?”

Luna smiled. Then she snickered. Then, she laughed loudly, her head thrown back to the stars, eyes shut tight.

“What is wrong with you!?” asked Celestia, aghast.

Luna lowered her head, and slowly stifled her laughter, panting as she struggled to restrain herself.

“At last,” she said, breathlessly, “I have my revenge.”

“What do you mean?” asked Celestia.

Finally, Luna calmed herself, and looked into her sister's eyes.

“Even if this world is brought to ruin,” she said, “I will never judge you.”

***

Twilight heard the knock on her door. Like all the knocks she had heard in the last couple of days, it was familiar. This knock, however, was too slow, too strong, and came from too high on the door.

“Come in,” she said, and the door opened.

Celestia stepped inside.

“Are you sober?” she asked.

“Sober enough,” said Twilight.

“Good,” said Celestia, then she shook her head. “Who am I kidding? I don't care.”

Twilight gave Celestia a puzzled look, and then shrugged. Without a word, she poured herself a glass of wine, and took a drink.

“Twilight,” said Celestia. “I know I can't change the past; no magic in the world can do that. I can't bring back Spike. I can't bring back the Element of Magic. I can't even take back the words I said.”

She levitated Twilight's wine bottle to herself, and looked at the label. It was a vintage of which she had given Shining Armor and Cadance several bottles as a wedding gift over a decade ago. She shook her head, and smiled. Then, she took a drink directly from the bottle.

“I can say this, though: I am still proud of you, and if the world should come crashing down around us, even in the next few days, I will have no regret that I chose you, among all ponies, to be my student.”

Twilight looked at her teacher, realizing even in that moment that she was, once more, being taught, and she stood up.

“And if the world doesn't come crashing down?” she asked.

“Then come home,” said Celestia. “Wherever you want to call home,” said Celestia,”go to that place, and just live.”

Twilight stepped to the enormous, white horse, and lay her head alongside the huge, white neck.

Celestia wrapped her up in her right wing.

They did not move. Twilight stood and listened with one ear to her teacher's blood pulsing through her body. That slow, steady throb of a heart twice the size of her own was a sound she had all but forgotten, but hearing it once more returned to her a familiar sense of calm.

She could have stood there for hours.

“When will it begin?” asked the little alicorn.

“Soon enough,” said Celestia.

***

Celestia stepped into the infirmary in the early hours of morning. Luna, utterly exhausted, had finally managed to get to sleep, which was fine with Celestia. What she was here to do, she meant to do alone, anyway.

The colt's mother was there, asleep on a small couch near the bed. Celestia did not wake her.

She stepped to the foal, and looked down into his open, staring eyes.

“If you can hear me through that strange artifact which this foal has for a heart, you wretched, dead, and selfish, unforgiving souls,” she said, “then I will speak at you.” She gritted her teeth, and growled through them. "And you will listen."

Lyra stirred from her sleep, and sat up, stunned and alarmed to see Celestia standing over Shimmershine.

“Princess, what are you...”

Celestia raised a hoof, silencing the unicorn.

“Who is this who dares address us so haughtily?” whispered the sleeping foal. It was his voice, but also not. It was expanded, somehow, as if his vocal chords were vibrating along many different wavelengths, at once.

“I am Celestia, daughter of Sol, one who is still among you.”

“Sol?” asked the voices. “We know not our names. Those, like everything else, were taken from us.”

“Then how is it that he has spoken to me from within the void of this being?”

“What remains of us may speak, but whether it remembers speaking, or even knows to whom it has spoken, who can say?”

Lyra shook with fright. For the first time, she began to understand the magnitude of what was buried within her son's soul.

“He said my name,” said Celestia, her voice stern, strong, and calm as she recalled the manifestation of her father's consciousness that had spoken into her dreams a decade ago. “He knows me.”

“He knew you, once,” said the voices, “and that is all. The thing he is now, like the rest of us, knows only this: that the being which destroyed us must also be destroyed. It is only just.”

“You would do unto another world what was done to your own to punish a being that does not even remember its transgression?” Celestia's teeth flashed like those of a rabid animal. “How petulant.”

“Petulant?” asked the strange voice which emitted from the colt's throat, his lips barely moving. “It is petulant to demand justice?”

“Mercy is better than justice,” growled Celestia.

“Only those who have never been truly wronged can believe something so infantile.”

“Enough of this,” said Celestia. “It is also my world you would bring to ruin in the name of your petty justice. It is the world of countless others who will be wronged just as deeply as you were, and yet all that concerns you is to know that you have settled a score that not one living being in all the universe even remembers.”

She spread her wings.

“I defy your justice."

The foal sat up, and the strange sound emitting from his throat rose to a scream.

“YOU HAVE NEITHER THE RIGHT NOR THE POWER TO DEFY US!

Celestia answered the scream with a whisper.

“Test me.”

The foal dropped back onto the bed, and his chest pulsed with a faint, golden glow. Somewhere, deep in the back of her mind, Celestia heard the steady, pulsing throb of a heartbeat.

Elsewhere in the Palace, asleep in bed, Luna heard that heartbeat, as well.

“What is this that I feel, now?” she asked in her subconscious, not even bothering to create a physical avatar for herself in the rift between dream and reality.

“This is the end of your world,” said the infinite voices.

“Really?” asked Luna. “I shall have to contest that, I think.”

“You have no right to contest,” said the voices. “You are but a portal.”

“Very well,” said Luna. “I suppose that I should not have gone to sleep. I'll be waking up, now.”

Her physical eyes popped open.

“Foolish spirits,” she mumbled to herself, upset that her rest had been interrupted. “I'm a dream goddess. You can't just...”

Her horn began to vibrate, and her mind filled with the screams of millions of raging gods.

“Bugger,” she said, and she was on her hooves.

“Celestia!” she shouted, dashing into the hall.

“WHERE IS SHE?” she screamed in the face of the guard beside her door.

“She said to tell you she'd be in the infirmary,” he said, shrinking down in terror.

“Why, thank you,” said Luna pleasantly, and then she was off.

It took her only a minute to reach the infirmary, but in that brief time, the persistent, throbbing vibration in her horn had grown steadily more pronounced. It was not visible, but she could feel it.

As she threw open the door to Shimmershine's room, Celestia did not turn, but stared down at the unconscious foal, whose chest glowed with each beat of his golden heart.

“They're coming,” she said. “Right now! WHAT did you do!?”

“Are they, really?” asked Celestia, and as she turned to face her, Luna felt her heart stop.

She had not seen Celestia's eyes look like this in a thousand years.

“They mean to use me as a portal,” she said, far less terrified of what that might mean than of what she saw in Celestia's face, at that moment.

“How many?” asked Celestia. “All of them?”

“Not all,” said Luna. “I cut off the gateway in my mind when I woke up,”

“How many?” asked Celestia, once more.

Luna shivered as she spoke.

“Millions” she said, “and those but a fraction of the whole.”

“Let's get outside of the city,” said Celestia.

They made a wild dash out of the palace, and took flight.

“Does anypony else know what's going on?” asked Celestia.

“They will,” said Luna, cringing at the bizarre frequencies she could hear reverberating through her own skull. There were voices, images, and sensations that correlated to no sense she had ever known, before. Worse, they were growing in number and in magnitude.

They were not two miles clear of the city when Luna felt she could bear it no more.

“I can go no further,” she shouted, and the two sisters came to lite near where the green fields of the city became the snowy waste of the north.

“I won't be able to help you,” said Luna, her voice fearful and her body growing limp and weak.

She collapsed, and lay on the ground staring up at her sister.

“I know that,” said Celestia, and she bent down. She felt in her heart a deep urge to touch her sister; to kiss her beside her horn or to at least touch her on her shoulder or cheek, but even in such a moment as this, she could not. It was not who she was; who Luna was. It had not been for aeons.

Instead, she nodded gently, and turned her eyes to the sky.

“Let them come,” she said.

***

The earth heaved mightily, and all through the Crystal City, there was a panic. Most thought it was an earthquake, but the few who were privy to the goings-on of the past several days felt a much deeper sense of dread.

Twilight felt the tremors, and heard faint, inexplicable whispers in the back of her mind. She felt as if her heart and lungs had run into her guts.

She walked towards her door, but before she even reached it, it flung open, revealing Cadance, her eyes open wide in a lunatic gaze.

“Come quick,” she said, and dashed away.

Twilight followed her as quickly as she could, her heart hammering so fiercely she could hear her own blood pulsing in her ears.

“What's going on?” she asked.

“I think it's started,” said Cadance, hooves hammering at the floor. “Celestia and Luna left the city, but I don't know why.”

They galloped onto the balcony, and both of them stopped cold.

In the distance, a spire of purple-black light cut into the sky, feeding itself into a portal that swelled high overhead.

The portal itself was horrifying to behold. It was no simple gateway, but instead a writhing, amorphous mass of translucent black, brown, and gray. Twilight strained her eyes in an effort to get a better look at it. At this distance, it was impossible to tell just what, precisely comprised its substance.

Then, there came the sound, a terrible din that crossed every fequency that a pony's ears could interpret. It was like a screeching, a rumbling, and a howling, not of one voice, but of many. It was the enraged outcry of countless long-dead souls, all hungering for long-awaited recompense to a wrong older than time.

“Come on!” shouted Cadance, and she took off from the balcony.

Twilight followed her as quickly as she could, striking at the air with her wings in an effort to approach whatever it was that was forcing its way into the world.

“What are you even going to do?” she asked herself. “You can't stop a thing like that.”

As they reached Celestia and Luna's location, the nature of the thing that had appeared in the sky overhead finally became apparent.

It was a mass of spirits; souls twisting and writhing amidst one another, clawing over one another like wild animals. Within that twisted blob clambered creatures mammalian, insectoid, reptilian, aquatic, and so alien that they defied all description, all clawing, crawling and slithering over one another, pushing one another down into the conglomeration in a fitful eagerness to be among the first free of their ageless prison.

Twilight felt welling within her the deepest, coldest dread she had ever experienced. This was horrible beyond the bounds of imagination.

Then, for just a moment, she looked down.

Celestia stood, staring upwards into that maelstrom of the damned, seemingly unaffected by both its image and the constant, wavering cacophony it emitted. Luna lay beside her, apparently unconscious.

As she and Cadance lit beside her, the Sun Goddess said nothing. She only continued to stare upwards into the shapeless well of abominations writhing above her.

“What do we do?” she heard Cadance ask.

Celestia looked down at her sister, who lay on the ground before her, eyes open and unmoving.

“Take Luna, and go,” she said.

Cadance looked up at her aunt.

“But...”

Celestia turned her eyes towards Cadance, and Twilight saw in them a madness she had never seen before. She was thankful that it had not been she who had spoken.

“Yes,” said Cadance, shrinking down like a cowering animal.

“Twilight,” she said, turning towards the purple alicorn, “Can you teleport the three of us back to the Palace?”

“I can,” said Twilight, and in a flash, the three smaller alicorns were back on the balcony of the palace, Luna still lying on her side, eyes open and unmoving.

As Cadance moved to check on Luna, Twilight stood silent, staring into the twisting orb of spirits that still loomed in the distant sky.

“Cadance,” she said suddenly. “I have to go and try to help her.”

“No, Twi!” shouted Cadance, and Twilight disappeared, once more.

As she reappeared beside Celestia, the Sun Goddess did not turn her eyes from the horror that twisted far overhead.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I have to help you,” said Twilight. “Even without the Elements of Harmony, I want to help. Just tell me something I can do.”

“You can leave,” said Celestia. “Go back to the Palace, and stay far away.”

“Huh?”

“Twilight,” said Celestia, turning her eyes from the sky.

Now, at last, Twilight could see the intensity that had so overwhelmed her sister, and her bones felt as if they had melted within her body.

“I am exhausted,” said Celestia. “I am bitterly and utterly exhausted from aeons of withholding every moment of my despair, rage, or disappointment. Always, I have chosen the path of peace; the path of reason. Even in moments of peril, always I have withheld.”

Her eyes welled, but did not spill.

“When Nightmare Moon came back for me, I withheld for fear of destroying my sister. When Discord returned, I withheld for fear of a battle that might break reality, itself. When Chrysalis appeared, I withheld for fear that I would bring Canterlot crashing down around us, having saved nothing and no one for my victory.'

“There were those, Twilight, and a thousand times before that you were not alive to see.”

She hung her head low, and shook it.

“Not this time,” she said. “I cannot. My will – or at least that part of it which holds the rest in restraint; it is broken, Twilight Sparkle.”

She lifted her head, and looked at Twilight with glistening, maddened eyes.

“Run, child, and if the sun sets on this day, I will speak to you, again.”

She reached up, and forced her jeweled mantle off her shoulders, then threw her crown to the earth.

“And if there is no sun left to set,” she said, “then know that it was the greatest joy of my entire life to see you alive, again.”

Twilight's eyes teared up, and she took a step towards Celestia.

“GO!”

The force behind that word physically blasted Twilight backward, slightly.

Without a further word, she hung her head, and disappeared in a purple flash.

***

Lyra felt the tremors in the depths of the Crystal Palace, and released Shimmershine from where she had held him ever since Celestia and Luna had left the room in what seemed to be a mad panic. With each glowing pulse of his heart came another throb of the earth below her hooves.

“I have to see what's going on,” she said, moving towards the door.

She stopped, and looked back at her son.

“I love you, Shim,” she said, and then she was off at a gallop.

As she ascended through the Palace, there came more of the rhythmic, pulsing tremors that rose up through the floor.

“Heartbeats,” Lyra thought, and she quickened her pace.

As she reached the balcony, the scene that met Lyra's eyes seemed to cut her soul from wherever it moored itself in her being. Twilight Sparkle, Shining Armor, Cadance, and all of Twilight's friends – who were also her friends – stood at the railing staring outward into a swirling, shapeless abyss that rolled and twisted in the distant sky. Princess Luna lay in their midst, unconcscious.

What had her son brought upon this world?

“What's going on?” asked Lyra. “Where is Princess Celestia?”

Pinkie Pie, standing nearby, nodded westward.

“She's going to fight that,” said Rainbow Dash, “somehow.”

“Can she win?” asked Lyra.

“I have no idea,” said Twilight Sparkle, “but there's nothing any of us can do to help.” The alicorn swallowed audibly.

“Anypony who goes near her won't survive whatever it is she's planning to do.”

“Does she intend to die?” asked Cadance, her voice trembling and darkened with dread.

“I don't know,” said Twilight.

They all stood for several minutes, watching the legion of undead gods swelling in the heavens. Not a word was spoken. The magnitude of what was about to take place forbade it.

Then, with no warning at all, it began. The ball in the sky poured into a stream; thousands upon thousands of angry, dead gods, all headed straight downward. Before it even reached the earth, a point of blinding, white light shot upward through its middle. The sound reached them seconds later, a crash that shattered windows and sent cracks racing through the crystalline walls of the city's buildings.

Light coruscated through the brown-gray mass, and parts of it seemed simply to melt into nothingness. There was a sound, again like thunder, but too loud and too near. Explosions rocked through the stream of deific ghosts that seemed to flood endlessly from the bloated orb.

The smell of burned flesh and hair wafted over the city, borne on the wind of the inconceivable power being poured out in the midst of that distant melee. The ball in the sky began to shrink, expending itself into the conflict that raged below, but it was all too slow.

Still more titanic blasts rocked through the falling stream, and a single, white ray burst from a point somewhere in its midst, ripping a swath of ash through its center which was quickly closed up with still more of the writhing, hateful beings.

“How can she do this?” whispered Fluttershy.

“I don't know,” said Twilight. "I mean... I don't know if she can."

There came now a roar from within the seething horde manifest over the earth. A single, enormous beast that resembled a dragon with too many legs and far too many heads crested on the edge of the stream, and the stream itself continued to flow downward to pool on the earth around a point where they all knew that Celestia must stand. After a few moments' descent, the dragon thing landed, and the low, hollow thud of its impact echoed off the distant mountains. Its many heads roared and barked out words in some vile, guttural language that nopony had ever heard or could understand.

Even as it spoke, it's body began suddenly to distort, and its shouts turned from cries of anger and indignation into screeched laments of agony and terror. The ponies on the balcony all watched in awed, horrified silence as its skeleton burst out of its body through its flesh, each and every bone glowing pale gold. Those ponderous, bloody bones ceased suddenly to glow with the light of Celestia's telekinesis, and simply dropped from the sky and into the struggle below, where they were quickly swarmed over by the mass of undead deities. All else that remained of the creature collapsed into a mountain of shapeless, ragged, and bloody flesh.

As the bones disappeared beneath the mass of writhing monstrosities, there came next flashes and beams of white light; rays of brilliant, searing death that descended from the sun, itself. They ripped across the ground, vaporizing swaths of the ghostly horde assembled there, and left rivers of glowing glass in their wake. Still, the flood did not abate.

Now, out of the maelstrom, there appeared a thing like a whale. It was grotesque, its flesh drawn tight to a seemingly eyeless skull that sprouted a dozen jagged horns. It had huge teeth, and a beard braided together with golden bands set with rubies that must each have weighed many tons. It opened its mouth, and a vile, black mist poured downward, dissolving what must have been thousands of the strange beings that might have called themselves its allies. Still, the flood swarmed downward, even in spite of the lethal miasma pouring from the horned, eyeless whale god's cruel maw. Soon, they pooled in one place, and swelled upwards into a mountain.

Celestia was overwhelmed.

“She can't,” said Twilight, her voice fraught with despair. “Not even her.”

Then, a point of light began to grow in the sky between the mountain of beasts and the huge orb from which they still issued forth.

“Is that her?” asked Cadance. “Tell me that's her.”

“I don't know," said Twilight.

The light swelled faster and faster, glowing so intensely that they were all forced to shield their eyes from it.

“Goddamn,” said Applejack. “That's fucking bright!”

A low, steady roar rolled outward from it, and it continued to grow. Its surface sprouted geysers of flame that rolled around it, and scorched the land bare wherever they touched it. The sound that it made became a sizzling roar as the oxygen in the air around it was consumed, and the trees nearby began to flash explode with its heat.

Finally, Twilight realized what she was seeing, but she still had difficulty believing it. For one, it was impossible, and even if it could be done, it was absurdly reckless. Even so, there it was.

“It's a sustained fusion reaction!” she shouted

“Can you say that so we can all understand it!?” shouted Rainbow Dash, above the terrible din.

“SHE'S MAKING A STAR!” screamed Twilight Sparkle.

“Are you serious!?,” shouted Rarity.

It continued to swell, growing larger and larger, even as the mountain of things that covered the goddess' body piled higher beneath it. They felt its heat even from where they were, and its light became so bright that it seemed to shine through the hooves they all raised in front of their eyes. It grew, and it grew until had it grown a moment longer, the city itself would have been set ablaze.

Then, it collapsed.

There was a merciless blast that tore the roofs off of dozens of buildings on the western end of the city, and the glowing orb shrank downwards rapidly, disappearing out of sight. A mighty gust of wind erupted, heading not away from the place where the tiny sun had been, but towards it.

The bearded whale thing cried out in a high-pitched whine of terror, and turned, trying to swim through the sky away from the singularity forming from the remains of the tiny, dead star.

It was to no avail. The flood of creatures was pulled towards that tiny point of pure black that floated in the distant sky. The mountain of hateful beings was pulled upward. The undulating sphere from whence they had come was drawn downward. Lastly, the whale god was dragged backwards, and its lunatic screeches of primal fear compelled the ponies to cover their ears with their hooves.

One and all, the ghost-gods were pulled into the darkness of the black hole that Celestia had made, screaming, howling, and gurgling in terror. Its pull was irresistible, and it was growing stronger. Buildings at the distant edge of the city began to loosen and shift on their foundations.

“She'll destroy the city!” shouted Cadance, and she tried to take flight, meaning to save either her aunt or her subjects trapped nearby.

“No, look!” shouted Shining Armor, wrapping his forelegs around her waist, and pulling her down.

The singularity had at some point begun to grow smaller, and its pull began noticeably to lessen. The orb and the mountain of beasts beneath it had all but completely disappeared, and as their last remnants were sucked into the hellish void Celestia had created, the black void ceased to be, shrinking until it simply was no more.

They all stood, staring silently into the distance, their ears ringing from the roaring, concussive power of what they had just witnessed. They could not even begin to react.

Then, Princess Luna stirred. Her eyes, still open, began to shift, and she slowly rose, sitting up onto her haunches, swooning slightly.

She stood, and tried to walk forward. She made it only three steps before she collapsed.

“Somepony,” she said, looking up desperately, “go help her.”

“What?” asked Twilight, still not come completely to her senses.

“I saw everything,” said Luna. “It's terrible.”

She began to weep, and tried once more, ineffectually, to stand.

“It's terrible,” she said again.

Author's Note

This chapter is kind of my response to Celestia being shamelessly Worfed in "A Canterlot Wedding." Celestia is one of my favorite characters, and it's a teensy bit upsetting to me that she never gets to really rip evil a new one. I tried to write this battle a lot of ways, and I finally realized that the most powerful thing I could do with it was just show it from a distant perspective, to present an idea of just how tremendous of a struggle it really was. Some readers will want something more like the Nightmare Moon fight from "The Sun Eater," but it just didn't feel right, here.

Once again, I was listening to an Alice in Chains song while I wrote that scene: "The Devil Put Dinosaurs Here."

Altered things a bit in the scene with Luna and Celestia right before the fight. I like the idea that Celestia and Luna almost never touch one another. No hugs. No kisses. No nuzzling or gentle touches of reassurance. The only time in this whole continuity that either one touches the other willfully is when Luna lays down beside Celestia to go into her dream in "The Sun Eater," and Celestia isn't even conscious for that. That's just what and who they are.

Given anything

Given Anything

Twilight's heart pounded and her wings slammed at the air. All her mind was consumed with one thought: She must find Celestia.

Rainbow Dash, Cadance, and Fluttershy all flew beside her, their heads swiveling in every direction. The field beneath them, beautiful only a few minutes previous, was now a ruinous waste of craters, glowing glass, and smoldering, blackened earth.

“Where is she!?” shouted Twilight, half-panicked.

“Don't ask me!” shouted Cadance. “Wait!”

Her sister-in-law pointed with a hoof, and Twilight looked down to see something that filled her with relief.

Celestia was standing, walking back towards the city.

But why walking? thought Twilight.

They dove towards her, and as they drew near, Twilight's relief turned to dread.

Celestia's right wing was utterly and permanently ruined. All that remained to mark that it had ever been a wing at all was a pair of long, white feathers that dangled limply beneath the tip of a bloody stump.

Twilight cringed, and quickened her pace, but as she grew closer, what she saw only further fueled her fears.

Celestia was stumbling forward with a noticeable list, and it was not long before, Twilight could see that her whole body was covered in numerous burns, abrasions, and deep gashes. She favored her right foreleg, putting no weight upon it, at all.

Struggling to restrain her panic, Twilight Sparkle landed, and ran towards her teacher. Seeing her coming, Celestia finally gave into her wounds and fatigue, and collapsed.

“No, no, no, no, NO!” shouted Twilight, still running. “Don't you dare! Not after that!”

As Twilight approached her, the white horse lay over onto her left side. She was covered in blood, and blackened, scorched dirt was mingled in it, clinging to her body in clods where it was not ground into her fur. Twilight saw, as she drew nearer, that the reason Celestia had been favoring her right foreleg was that there was no longer a hoof there to support her. Unlike the ragged stump of her wing, however, the leg seemed to have been severed cleanly.

The sight only made Twilight gallop faster, and hearing the sound of her approaching hoofbeats, Celestia lifted her head to look at her.

Twilight gasped, and recoiled at the sight.

“Oh, no,” she said, her voice weak with sorrow.

Celestia's right eye was gone.

The entire right side of her face, in fact, was covered in blood, dirt, and viscous fluid that seeped from her empty eye socket. Whatever blow had bereaved her of her eye had also left a trio of wide, ugly claw marks, slightly cauterized and still smoldering at their edges, as if the instrument that had delivered them had been searingly hot.

She turned her head, and looked at Twilight with her remaining left eye, mouthing words that she could not fully form. That single, amethyst-colored eye began to dilate. She was going into shock.

Cadance reached the scene now, and shrieked in horror.

Twilight shook her head, startled back to reason by Cadance' sudden outcry. Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy arrived now, also, both recoiling and crying out at what they saw.

“Come on,” said Twilight, shutting their screams from her mind, and in a flash, they were all on the Palace balcony.

“There you are,” said Rarity, at first relieved, and then she saw Celestia.

“Oh, gods, no.” she whispered.

“FUCK” was Shining Armor's only reaction, as the mares all screamed in panic and pity.

Luna, laying nearby, reached a hoof towards her sister. She willed herself to stand, but still made it only a step before she collapsed to her belly.

Lyra heartstrings stood nearby, watching the horrible scene unfold. As she realized the extent of Celestia's injuries, she collapsed to her haunches and shook her head slowly, wide-eyed in disbelief.

“I'm so sorry,” she said, “I'm sorry Princess Celestia; Princess Luna. I'm sorry, Twilight.”

Twilight looked at her, and saw in her face a look of deep fear and shame.

“Please don't hate him,” said Lyra. “Please.”

***

It was after dark when Celestia regained consciousness. Her dreams for those few hours were fitful and terrible, filled with images of the things she had fought and destroyed, and which, but for her mad gambit, would surely have destroyed her – and the world.

At last, however, there came another image. It was her mother, Selene, a black alicorn mare who had resembled Nightmare Moon in every respect but for one: her eyes. Unlike Nightmare Moon's, they had been kind. It was a day long ago, the first time Celestia had raised the sun. It had been incredibly difficult for her that first time, she remembered, but somehow, she had managed it.

“Magnificent,” had said Selene, looking down proudly at her daughter. “Utterly magnificent.”

That image of the smiling, black alicorn faded into another; the image of her sister, sitting by her bed, her face downcast.

She realized, slowly, that she must be awake.

“And alive,” she thought. “Most of me, anyway.”

“At least,” she said quietly, and hearing her voice, Luna lifted her head.

“At least it won't take me so long to put on that eyeliner you always bitch about,” she said.

Luna tried to force a laugh, but broke down into tears as she looked into her sister's one remaining eye.

“Stop it,” said Celestia, weakly. “I chose this.”

“I know that!” Luna sobbed, unable to restrain herself, despite Celestia's remonstration.

“After all this time,” she said, “why is is that now, at last, you choose to defy what you thought you were? Would it have been so hard to forgive yourself for choosing the wiser path just one more time? Would it have been impossible to live with yourself, if just once more you had favored the many over the one?”

Celestia turned her one eye to the white disk that gleamed in through the window, and smiled at the image of the Mare in the Moon.

“Not at all,” she said. “That is why it mattered.”

She lay her head down, and fell once more into her dreams.

***

“Is she going to be okay?” asked Twilight Sparkle as Luna entered the Palace Parlor, where Twilight and all of her friends sat waiting for news of the Princess' condition. The former Cutie Mark Crusaders were also present, owing to the fact that Celestia's godly wrath had obliterated the railway, preventing their train from leaving the city.

“If I did not know she would be well enough,” said Luna, “I would not be here. Honestly, I am surprised that you are. I would have thought you would have been beside her.” There was a slight note of disapproval in Luna's voice, but it carried more weight of curiosity.

“I can't look at her, Luna,” said Twilight shaking her head. “If we'd had the Elements of Harmony, we could have helped her.”

“Yes,” said Luna, “and you might all be quite dead for your trouble. Don't worry yourself too deeply, child. Do you think that I will not also carry regret that I was unable to stand beside her?” Her head swam. They had run out of Celestia's blood type, and she had given her all of her own she could spare. She took some strange comfort in knowing that her own blood was at that moment pumping through her sister's veins, sustaining her.

Still, however, she was weakened, so she went to a couch, where she lay down, head erect, and looked at Twilight.

“It wasn't your fault you couldn't help, Princess,” said Twilight. “I can't say that.”

“Are we back on that?” asked Rarity, her voice detached, and her gaze distant.

She was high.

“We never got off of it,” said Twilight.

“You never got off of it, maybe,” said Applejack, pouring another glass from the decanter of whiskey that sat on the floor between herself and her sister. It was Shining Armor's favorite, forty-year-old Glennfiddich, that had been procured from a mini bar he kept there in the Parlor.

“Look,” said Scootaloo, inhaling from a cigarette, “it's over now, Prin... Twilight. Just let it go. She saved the world, for fuck's sake; just be proud of her.” She ashed her cigarette into the tray.

“Saved it for now, Scootaloo,” said Luna. “This was only the beginning.”

“What!?” Sweetie Belle squeaked.

“What you all saw was only a fraction of what is yet to come.”

“What are y'all gonna do?” asked Applebloom, darkly. “This is heavy, heavy shit.”

“Indeed,” said Luna.

“Is it safe for her to be asleep, right now?” asked Rarity, recalling a terrible experience she'd had when the entity that Shimmershine used to be had first returned to try and consume Celestia's soul. “That's how they come through, right?”

“Yes,” said Twilight, but Shining cast a barrier spell around Shimmershine. It's strong enough to keep them from using some random sleeping unicorn to come through again, but it's very taxing for him. He won't be able to keep it up for more than a few days, at most.”

“Can somepony else do it if he gets worn out?” asked Fluttershy. “Just to give us some more time?”

“They could try,” said Twilight, “but nopony is better at wards and shields than Shining Armor. If he can't hold this off, – and he can't – then nopony can. He can only manage it for a few days; I could manage it for maybe one, at best. Does that give you an idea of how bad this is?”

“Great,” said Applebloom. “Did y'all see how many of those things there were? And 'goddamn' at the size of those two big ones! How we gonna fight that shit the next time they come through?”

“I have no idea,” said Twilight. “Celestia can't just keep ripping open black holes, like that.” She shook her head, stunned, and lit another cigarette. “It probably took more out of her than everything else combined, and besides that, if she ever lost control of one, even for an instant, the planet would be sucked into it."

“Kinda defeats the purpose,” said Pinkie Pie.

“Gods, that was incredible, though,” said Twilight. “Princess Luna, did you know she could even do that?”

“I had inklings,” said Luna, shuddering, “but you are right; she cannot do such a thing, again. It is a miracle that the world still stands, as it is.”

“Shit,” whispered Twilight. “So many forces; the pressure necessary for the fusion, the gravity to keep it from throwing the planet completely out of orbit... It's a thousand calculus problems a second, all done in her head – and in the middle of that mountain of things.”

“Our father would have been proud to see it,” said Luna, “but he no longer exists, I think.” She dropped her head. “If he does, it is only as one more maddened ghost within Shimmershine's fractured subconscious.”

“I'm sorry, Princess,” said Twilight Sparkle.

“My family,” said Luna, through a bitter chuckle. “Held up as such images of perfection, but look at us. I would have plunged the world into eternal darkness. Mother perished under her own despair, all but a suicide, and Father is now a mad spirit damned to be the enemy of the world he gave himself up to save. Celestia was always the best of us, and for that, she is maimed.”

“Because she chose me,” said Twilight, bitterly.

“Twilight,” said Applejack, giving her friend a hard look. “Seriously; put that shit in a can, close the lid on it, and put it on the shelf. Ain't doing nopony no good, no way.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Applejack,” said Twilight.

“Twilight, settle down,” said Rainbow Dash. “She's just trying to help. We all are.”

“I know that,” said Twilight, dropping her head, ashamed. “I'm sorry, AJ.”

“Sorry for what?” asked Applejack.

Twilight stood, and walked to the window. She looked out over the city.

“We have to kill the kid,” she said.

“No,” said Princess Luna, her voice betraying fierce – but contained – anger, “I will not see it done. Celestia refused to do it, and in the name of that choice, she lies crippled and half-blind. Would you invalidate that sacrifice, Twilight Sparkle?”

Twilight gritted her teeth, and whirled around.

“WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO!?”

The room fell utterly silent, and Twilight breathed heavily and slowly. She looked around at her friends, all staring at her, stunned by her outburst.

“I just... I don't know what to do,” she said, and she collapsed onto her belly. She looked around at the other ponies, then buried her face in her folded forelegs, and began to sob.

“It'll be okay, Twilight,” said Pinkie Pie, scooting across the floor from where she had lain to nuzzle her old friend behind the ear.

“No,” Twilight sobbed into her folded forelegs, raising a shoulder to force Pinkie Pie's face away from her. “No, it won't.”

“I fucked it all up, guys,” she said. “We had one chance, and I lost it. It's over.”

“You don't know that,” said Pinkie Pie, stroking at Twilight's mane.

“Yes, Pinkie,” she said. “I do.” She inhaled sharply through her nose, staving off a sniffle, and looked up at her friends.

“I lost the Element of Magic: the lynchpin of the most powerful magic that has probably ever existed. I lost the one thing that might have actually been able to save our world from what's coming. I'm about to watch everyone I love die because I completely fucked the one moment in my whole life that counted the most.'

“Hell, even if we did kill Shimmershine, how long until something like this happens, again? How long until the whole world is finally just fucked up the ass? Face it: I. Fucked. Everything. Up.”

She sniffled, again.

“For all of you.”

She dropped her head again, and bit so hard into the flesh of her right foreleg she almost drew blood.

Then, after a few moments, she released the grip of her teeth. She raised her head, and she spoke calmly.

“And I don't get a second chance,” she said.

Then, she did.

***

Shining Armor stared at the unconscious colt. He didn't have to recast the barrier again for a few hours, but still, he had left his wife alone in bed and come down to check on him. He felt uneasy being away from the room. The ruin of the world was waiting to burst forth from Shimmershine's heart, and in the room next door, the only living being powerful enough to stand against this apocalypse lay battered and unconcscious.

His head was pounding. Cadance could ease the ache with a spell, but she had been so distraught by the ruination of her aunt's body that he thought it best to let her rest. He could endure the pain, if it gave her some small measure of relief.

Lyra Heartstings was asleep nearby on the couch with a blanket pulled over her. It seemed tragic to him that after having willfully taken this child into her life, having willfully shown him love and tended to his needs, no less, she had found herself alone and hopeless in the face of something so totally beyond her power.

She twitched in her sleep, and he telekinetically pulled the blanket up a little higher over her shoulders.

“Such a bunch of bullshit,” he thought, “and Twilie's more miserable than her.”

He gave a bitter “Hmph.”

“Celestia, Luna, Twilie, and all her friends. Now, this Lyra, too. Then, of course, there's Cadance. Every mare around me is in Hell, right now.”

“Just go upstairs, and go to bed,” he thought.

At least there was one of them he could offer some comfort.

He stumbled down the hall, his head pounding. In truth, he knew there was little good he could do. He would hold the barrier for as long as he could, but in the end, it would fail. When it did, he held out no delusions that what lay behind that thin, magical wall could be stopped by any force in the world.

“Yeah,” he mumbled to himself, “I really need to spend as much time as I can with Cadance.”

It was perhaps these thoughts and the way they held his face so downcast that caused him to notice a faint, purple glow that seeped from under a closed door in the hallway -- the door behind which stood the mirror.

“The hell?” he said.

He stepped to the door, and pulled it open.

What waited behind it was a wild, uneven glow bursting from the glassy portal. It surface rippled like water, and it sparked and crackled with raw magical energy.

“Why now?" he said. "Why could it not do this when the goddamned world wasn't ending?”

“Okay,” he thought, “Who knows about this thing?”

There was Celestia, of course, but it would be impossible for her to come and examine the situation, given her condition.

“Cadance,” he said, and ran for the bedroom.

As he flung open the door, his wife sat up sharply, shocked awake by the thud of the massive double doors pounding against their stops.

“Shining!” she shouted. “The fuck!?”

“The mirror! Magic mirror!” he said quickly. “Weird stuff happening!”

She said not a word, but rolled out of bed, telekinetically grabbing a tiny elastic ring which she used to tie back her mane as she ran. As they reached the room where the purple light glowed forth from the mirror, she gasped.

“I've got nothing for this,” she said.

“Where's Princess Luna?” asked Shining Armor.

“Maybe with Twilight and her friends in the parlor. That's where they were when I went to bed, earlier.”

They ran for the parlor, and both of them tried to open its door simultaneously, so that it glowed a weird, uneven shade of pink and blue for several seconds, totally unmoving. Shining Armor finally huffed, reached out a hoof, and pulled it open physically.

They were stunned to see Twilight lying in the floor next to the window, quietly weeping. Nopony else in the room was even speaking. It was a sad scene of downcast eyes and miserable expressions. Neither one knew what to say for a moment, but Shining Armor's pragmatism finally won out.

“There's something weird going on with the mirror.” he said plainly.

“Why now?” asked Princess Luna.

“That's what I said,” huffed Shining Armor.

Twilight lifted her head, her tears abating almost immediately.

“Weird?” she asked.

“It's... doing something!” said Cadance.

In a few moments, all the ponies were out of the room, and headed down the hallway at a full gallop.

By the time they reached it, the mirror's glow had intensified. More disturbingly, however, the reflection that it should have cast had been replaced by another image, entirely.

“What the hell is that thing!?” shouted Rainbow Dash, grinding to a halt.

Something stood on the other side of the mirror, a creature as alien in its physiology as many of the bizarre ghost-gods had been, and clad in strange garments. It stood upright on two legs, and had neither hooves nor paws, but hands like an ape. It seemed to be leaning with one of those hands against the mirror's opposite surface.

It was badly wounded. Several holes like the ones Twilight had years ago borne back into Equestria spilled dark, crimson blood down the strange, mottled cloth covering its weird, upright chest. That chest heaved, and the creature's apish face shifted this way and that at the glass, as if searching for something it could not see. The others all knew from Twilight's few accounts of her ill-fated journey that the thing they were looking at must be a human, but only Twilight herself recognized its face.

It was her own.

“Holy shit,” she whispered, and stepped towards the mirror.

“Twilight, what are you doing!?” shouted Shining Armor. “Get away from there!”

Twilight paid him no heed, but very nearly ran to the mirror. Without thinking, she placed her hoof directly against the hand that was pressed against the other side of the glass.

The human's eyes went wide in surprise, and her fingers spilled through the glass, clutching around the purple hoof. Twilight pulled. Those five fingers melded back into a single hoof, and the hoof dragged through a muzzle. Behind that muzzle came a pony.

Every single pony in the room gasped, cursed, or cried out in surprise.

It was Twilight Sparkle. She was an ordinary unicorn, as their own Twilight had once been, and she was bleeding profusely from many wounds in her chest, most of which seemed to have corresponding wounds on her back, as if some terrible instrument had been forced completely through her entire torso. She was shorter and smaller than their own Twilight, in every way the twin of the Twilight Sparkle they had all known over a decade ago. Every way, that was, except for one: like all of them, she was older, now.

The mirror crackled loudly, like distant lightning, and its surface became once again cold, smooth, and solid. There was projected in its glassen surface, for the briefest moment, the image of a fiery explosion, and then once more nothing but a reflection. Tiny fissures traced all over the mirror's surface, and it fell to the floor in shards, totally destroyed.

The unicorn Twilight that had spilled from the now-ruined mirror gasped in pain.

“Did I make it?” she asked in Twilight's voice. “Is this... Is this Equestria?”

She collapsed, spreading out her forelegs awkwardly to keep her face from striking the floor. Her eyes caught sight of her hooves spread out before them. She raised one, and stared at it, stunned.

“Jesus Fucking Christ,” she said. “It worked.”

She rolled over onto her back, and continued to gasp, her blood flowing onto the floor, eclipsing completely a faint, red stain that gave testament to an incident all too similar.

The Twilight Sparkle who belonged to Equestria knelt beside her, and lifted her head onto her own shoulder using one of her wings.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“You!?” The Twilight from the mirror asked, deleriously. “Purple unicorn. That's...”

“Get the doctor!” Shining Armor shouted down the hall at the nearest guard.

“Backpack,” said the little, bleeding pony.

There was no backpack, but Twilight could see a saddlebag on the wounded unicorn's side. It was identical to the one she had once used to carry her books to and from classes, though much older and more worn.

“He said to tell you 'you're welcome,'” said the little unicorn.

“Stop talking,” said Twilight, stroking the mane of this grievously wounded version of the pony she used to be. “I'll try to close your wounds with a spell.”

Her horn glowed.

“Uh-uh,” said the little unicorn, gasping. “Don't.”

Twilight gave her a look of confusion and pity.

“Please, just don't,” she said, and her voice cracked slightly. “I'm... tired."

There was a pleading desperation in her eyes, and Twilight allowed the surge of energy she had been gathering in her horn to fade. Those same pleading eyes traced down the alicorn's left foreleg, and a purple hoof, like her own, but slightly smaller, reached up and slapped ineffectually at the pack of cigarettes strapped there.

“Hooves,” said the dying, purple pony, and she gave a bitter, delirious laugh. “This is all so fucked.”

Twilight the alicorn looked down at the little hoof that rested against her shoulder, and realized what the other Twilight was reaching for. Wordlessly, she levitated a cigarette to the other her's lips, and lit it with the white, plastic lighter.

The bleeding unicorn took a long drag, and let the smoke rise from her mouth, pulling it through her nose in a French inhale. Her breathing became more labored and faster.

“Too fast,” thought Twilight.

The Twilight from the mirror looked around, carefully observing the faces of all the ponies in the room, who had stepped closer to form a circle around her.

“Wow,” she whispered. “He wasn't shitting us; unicorns and pegasi, and magic, and everything.” She laughed, and it quickly morphed into a bitter sob that itself became a hacking cough that painted her lips with thin, bloody lace.

The little Twilight rolled her head back towards the purple alicorn, and when she did, Twilight could see that there were tears streaming from her eyes.

“Are these all your friends?” she asked through several short, sharp gasps.

“Yeah,” said Twilight, quietly. “They are.”

The other Twilight smiled, her lips opening just enough to reveal teeth reddened by her own blood.

“You know,” she sobbed, pushing her words out in quick, raspy bursts of syllables, “I would... have... given anything.... to be you.”

She inhaled long and deep, and the tip of her cigarette glowed bright orange-red. She shut her eyes, never to open them again, and exhaled, long and slow, releasing a wisp of smoke that rolled and curled upward from her mouth as if to carry away her soul.

The cigarette fell from her lips, and rolled down her bloody chest. Its flame hissed as it met its own death in the pool which had gathered beneath her.

There were quiet murmurs from around the circle of ponies. Pinkie Pie sobbed loudly, Fluttershy more quietly. Applejack removed her hat.

Twilight herself was not aware she was crying until she saw her tears land on the face of the deceased unicorn. It was then that she remembered what she had said about a backpack. Twilight looked down, and saw something gleaming from the edge of her other self's saddlebag.

She reached down with a hoof, and flipped it open.

Not one single pony in the room was surprised when a twisted, scuffed crown levitated out of the saddlebag: the Element of Magic. Not one cheered or even smiled. They all just stared at the body of this creature whom they had all known so well without ever having met.

Twilight stared downward. For awhile, she said nothing as she painted the fur of the dead unicorn's face dark with tears from her living eyes. She wished in vain that her heart had found its words while the slain mare had been alive to hear them, but she spoke them, all the same.

“Magnificent, my little pony.”

Author's Note

May I never again write anything that is this hard to write.

Seriously, all the hardest decisions I've ever made in writing anything happened in these few pages. There were so many drafts of this, and every single one was agonizing just to type. As I have already said, Celestia is one of my favorite characters. Hell, I got Nicole Oliver's autograph at Bronycon, and it filled me with absolute glee just to talk to her for two minutes. It was not easy to make the decision to inflict an irreversible injury on a character I like this much, but there would have been no meaning in her decision if it did not cost her something.

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, but an eye for a soul?

We shall have to see.

I have restored this to something more along the lines of my original draft. I originally published a version wherein Celestia only lost an eye. That was a failure on my part. This is the true version.

The scene with the mirror... Wow. I never want to write anything like that, again. I just kept thinking "What if it was me? How would that make me feel if another me was dying in my arms after giving literally everything to reverse my greatest failure?" It gave me some of the darkest, ugliest sensations I have ever had.

I tried in every way to avoid it. I thought of just having Spike bring the crown back, which certainly would have been the happiest way I could have done this. I thought it might even be neat for him to have aged as a dog, and to have come back as a full-grown dragon. In the end, though, I realized that doing anything like that just made all the suffering that Twilight had endured to come to this point totally meaningless.

It had to be this way, whether I liked it or not.

Mother

Twilight Sparkle sat in her room, the dawn sending a soft, orange glow in through her open window. She had not slept a wink. What had happened the night before was impossible, but it had happened, all the same.

There it sat upon her reading desk: The Element of Magic. It was scuffed, battered, and twisted out of shape, but there it sat, all the same, emitting a strange, magical influence that she and she alone could sense.

Despite its presence, her eyes were fixed elsewhere, upon the only other thing of any consequence that had been found in the dead unicorn's saddlebag: a photograph which floated before her in the air, glimmering purple.

It showed a group of humans; faces she remembered vividly, though older, harder, and decidedly more weary than they had been when last she laid eyes upon them. For those exigencies, still each face in the faded image bore a smile.

They stood in a group, having posed for the image on top of a battered, ugly machine that she recognized as a battle tank. It was different than she would have expected, but such weapons had not existed in her own world for thousands of years. She knew of them only from vague accounts in very old history books. The tank was scorched and ruined, destroyed in some conflict, and the six women seated and standing on top of it all wielded weird human weapons. Even for all this, however, the thing in the picture upon which her eyes lingered was not a human, at all.

It was a dog.

She smiled sadly at the big, shaggy mutt that sat in the center of the group. Its entire body was colored as no dog had a right to be, and it seemed to smile in a way no animal should be able to smile. Its peculiar, reptilian eyes shone happily. The woman she had pulled through the mirror knelt beside it. One of her arms was wrapped around the canine's shoulders, and between two fingers of that same hand, there was a burning cigarette. That woman was now a dead pony who lay under a white sheet in the sole vault of the Palace infirmary's small morgue.

Twilight flipped the photo over, and a tear rose to her eye as she read a short message scrawled there.

Twilight, if you're reading this, I guess we won. I wish I could have been there to see it, but if you're reading this message, my luck must have run out. Don't feel bad for me, though. I had some hella great times with some awesome people. In a way, it never really felt like I left home.

Teach this woman how to be a unicorn, would you? I think she'll get a kick out of it. She really likes these goofy books about magic and wizards and stuff, even though none of that really exists here. She's been as good a friend to me as you always were. It feels weird to have her taking a letter for me, but, well, paws, you know?

– Your Number One Assistant, Spike.

That was it; the last thing she would ever see or hear of her best friend and dearest, number one assistant. She flipped the photograph over, and looked at it once more, lighting a cigarette.

“Oh, Spike,” she sighed, exhaling the cloud of smoke. “I turn into a recluse and you turn into a hero. Why didn't I try to find a way back to you? If only I'd known...”

She flipped the photo over, and once more read the brief note on the back.

“Really fucked it all up, didn't I?” she said.

“Twilight?”

It was Lyra's voice, muffled through the door.

“Come in!” said Twilight. “It's unlocked.”

The door glowed green before opening, and Lyra Heartstrings stepped inside.

“What are you looking at?” asked the unicorn, curiously.

“Just an old picture,” Twilight replied. “Probably wouldn't interest you.”

She opened a drawer on her desk, and dropped the photo inside before shutting it.

“I just...” Lyra began, but then stopped.

“What?” asked Twilight, after the silence lingered for a few seconds.

“I'm sorry,” said Lyra. “I'm sorry about Celestia and about this whole mess.”

“You shouldn't be. You were just being's somepony's mom.”

“Yeah,” said Lyra, “poorly. I couldn't even keep his other mom around, I'm such a fuck-up.”

“Bon Bon took off, huh?” asked Twilight. “Ponies come and go, Lyra, and sometimes, they stay gone. Doesn't change who you are.”

"Oh, yes it does," said Lyra. "More than anything."

"I suppose you're right," said Twilight.

“I just wish he'd have had a more normal life," sighed Lyra. "I wish all this had never happened.”

Twilight continued to stare at the crown she had once worn.

“It was inevitable,” she said. “All this got started a long, long time ago. It wasn't your choice or mine. It really wasn't even Princess Celestia's.”

“She could have ended it, though,” said Lyra. “She didn't have to do what she did. I'm so grateful to her, but I'm ashamed to even tell her that.”

“Well, don't be,” said Twilight. “You'd be surprised how forgiving she can be. I'm not the only one who will tell you that, either.”

She ashed her cigarette into the tray, and turned to face Lyra.

“In fact, I'd like to see her, right now, come to think of it.”

“She's asleep,” said the unicorn. “At least I think she is. She woke up to raise the sun, and then the doctor asked her to go back to bed. She offered her a sedative and some morphine, but she wouldn't take either one. She just laid back down. That was when I came up here.”

“Well, I'm gonna wake her up,” said Twilight. “There's something I'd like to show her.” She levitated the crown from where it sat, but did not put it on. It was too bent out of shape to be worn, anyway.

“Come with me,” said Twilight, “if that would make you feel better.”

“I think it might,” said Lyra.

***

Celestia lay awake, staring at the wall. She was still exhausted, but the throbbing aches of her severed limbs and the accompanying sting of so many tiny wounds all over her body forbade her sleep. Suddenly, she felt a hoof on her right shoulder, but could not see to whom it belonged.

“Luna?” she mumbled, and as she rolled her head to the right, her one remaining eye saw not her sister, but her student.

“Twilight,” she said. “So good to see you smile.”

“Look,” whispered the purple alicorn, and she levitated into Celestia's view a thing that made her heart stop.

“Impossible,” she whispered, staring at the Element of Magic.

“Yeah,” said Twilight. “It's like a deus ex machina in a badly-written book.”

“I'm going to need an explanation,” said Celestia, sitting up. Her mane hung limp, and she swayed as she put her three remaining hooves on the floor. She tried to stand, but collapsed back to her haunches, still weak.

“I'll tell you later,” said Twilight, “when we're alone. I just thought you should see this.”

“I can't believe it,” said Celestia, and the crown's glow faded from purple to a golden, yellow-white. It floated over, and rotated slowly in front of her, slightly to the left so that she did not have to turn her head.

Her neck and shoulders still ached from the whiplash of being hurled to the earth by the blast of the tiny, collapsing star.

“There's someone who wanted to speak to you,” said Twilight, and Lyra stepped into Celestia's field of view.

She relinquished her telekinetic grip on the crown, and Twilight resumed her own, setting it gently on a small nightstand by the Princess' bed.

“Lyra Heartstings,” said Celestia, kindly.

“Yes, it's me,” said the unicorn.

“I half-expected Spike,” said Celestia, sadly.

Twilight shook her head, gently.

“Turns out not everything that dies always comes back,” she said.

“It makes things more precious, in a way, doesn't it?” asked Celestia, thinking only briefly of how much she would miss her faithful student, one day.

Twilight nodded, but said nothing else.

“What did you want, Lyra?” asked Celestia.

“I had to thank you,” said Lyra. “I know you could have put an end to this already, and right now, I almost wish you had.”

Celestia shook her head.javascript:void(%200%20);

“That is not your decision to make,” she said.

“I know that,” said Lyra, “but after what happened yesterday, everypony is going to wonder what's going on. If they find out, they'll want you to kill him.”

“Well,” said Celestia, “I guess it's a good thing this isn't a democracy.”

She laughed, and there was a bitter, angry undertone to it that seemed alien even to herself.

“Hell,” she grinned, “This isn't even a dictatorship. This is a theocracy, and I am God.”

She lifted her head, and sat up as tall as she could manage.

“Nopony will lay a hoof on your son.”

Lyra stared up at the Princess in stunned silence.

“Is that what you came here for?” asked Celestia.

“I think it was,” whispered Lyra.

“Go see your boy,” said Celestia, leaning close to the unicorn, and smiling.

As soon as Lyra left the room she sank back, sucking air through her clenched teeth, and groaning quietly.

“Are you alright?” asked Twilight.

“I'm fine," said Celestia. "It's really not so bad, except that I'm supposed to smile all the time, and it makes the cuts on my face open up and bleed, again.”

"I can see that," said Twilight. "I can stop the bleeding with a spell." As she said these words, Twilight's eyes turned towards the twisted crown, and Celestia detected a strange note of sadness in her voice.

“Don't trouble yourself," said Celestia. "It's good for a wound to bleed a little, Twilight. It cleans it."

"Is that a lesson?" asked Twilight.

"An observation," said Celestia, quietly.

They sat in silence for a few moments, and then Celestia turned to look at Twilight, again.

“I wondered where you were every single day,” she said.

“I did, too,” said Twilight, and she sat back on her haunches. “You know, I didn't mean to stay gone forever.”

“You could have fooled me,” said Celestia.

“I just wanted to clear my head,” said Twilight. “Just to figure things out. That was all.”

“Did you have any luck?” asked Celestia, and her tone was utterly sincere.

“No,” said Twilight, quietly. “I just sat there thinking about it; running it all through my head over and over, trying to see what I could have done differently. I just couldn't stop thinking of every single little change that might have made a difference. For the first few months, I didn't even read.”

“You're kidding,” said Celestia, bluntly.

“Dead serious,” said Twilight through a bitter chuckle. “I thought I would; that's why I went to that place. I couldn't get everything off my mind long enough to read a single page, though. I was just sitting alone one night in that ugly, old library, just thinking about it, and I cracked.”

She started breathing heavily,

“I started screaming," she said. "There I was in this old, empty place, all alone. I mean, not one pony in the entire world knew where I was, and I was just there, all by myself, screaming bloody murder.”

A tear rose out of the lacrimal gland in Celestia's empty, bandage-covered eye socket. It stung.

“I just screamed until I totally lost my voice,” said Twilight. “Then, I went and took a book off the shelf. It was Horsodotus: A History of Equestria, Volume I – in Latin, no less, but I read the whole thing. I'll never forget that book. I can still smell it, even.”

Celestia heard Twilight swallow a lump in her throat.

“That was when I realized I was never coming home,” she said.

“And yet here you are,” said Celestia, “and there sits the Element of Magic; your crown.” She nodded towards it, ignoring the nagging ache that even such a simple motion of her neck elicited.

Twilight said nothing.

“That is yours, Twilight Sparkle, and it belongs to a set.” Her one eye chose one of Twilight's two, and fixed itself there.

“You were always coming home.”

***

Rarity stumbled down the hallway towards her hotel room. She wasn't sure what she needed, but she knew she needed something.

“Something mild,” she said. “Too early to get myself totally blitzed.”

“Rarity!”

She winced, then realized it was not Sweetie Belle's voice, for once.

“Twilight?” She turned to face her friend, who was wearing a single saddlebag.

Twilight levitated the Element of Magic out of the bag, and let it hover in front of her as she approached the unicorn.

“Can you fix this?” she asked.

Rarity looked at the hovering, twisted crown.

“Of course I can,” she said, sweetly. “Just leave it in my room. I'll get right to it, as soon as I can.”

She turned and opened her door. Twilight followed her inside, and looked around.

“Wow,” said the alicorn. “Nice place. It's bigger than my room at the Palace.”

“You should see Sweetie's room,” said Rarity, “except that it's a mess.”

She walked towards her bathroom.

“Just leave it on my dresser, there,” she said. “I'll be right out.”

When she emerged from the bathroom, Twilight still stood at her dresser, looking down at something.

“Shit,” she muttered.

She had left her candle, her spoon, and an empty syringe on the dresser the night before.

Twilight turned, and gave her a concerned look.

“Rarity, this is too much.”

“Don't give me that,” said Rarity. “I get enough of it from Sweetie Belle.”

“Apparently you don't get enough of it from anypony,” said Twilight. “I always knew you did some pills, but this is fucking heroine, Rares. That shit will kill you.”

“Hasn't yet,” said Rarity.

“Seriously?” asked Twilight. “You're smarter than this.”

“I'm smart enough to take care of myself,” said the unicorn. “It's just a little horse, Twi.”

“A little horse?” asked Twilight, her voice edged with skepticism and anger.

“You know what?” she said. “I'll have somepony else fix this thing.” She tucked the crown back into her saddlebag.

“Twilight, don't be obtuse. Nopony else is going to do as good a job as I will.”

Twilight looked at her, blinking, her mouth drawn into a tight line. After a moment, she levitated the crown once more from her saddlebag, and sat it on the dresser beside the mirror.

“Just be careful,” said Twilight. “Okay?”

“I'm always careful,” said Rarity.

Twilight left the room without a further word, and left Rarity staring at the artifact that rested on her dresser.

“Always careful,” she said, and she stepped to take a closer look at the Element of Magic.

“What a mess,” she said, not sure if she was referring to the battered crown.

“I'll need some help on this one,” she said. She removed a small key that she kept tucked away in her mane, and opened the drawer on her jewelry box where she stored her raw heroine.

Beside it lay the Element of Generosity. She had put both of these things there because this was the only locking drawer the jewelry box had. The image of the purple diamond stopped her cold. She lifted the amulet from where it lay, and examined it. After a moment, she put it on, and looked at herself in the mirror.

“Fuck me,” she said, and she slammed shut the drawer without removing anything else from it.

“I can fix this shit without any help, at all,” she said, scowling at the crown.

Her head swam, slightly.

“Except maybe a little gin.”

***

Shining Armor stumbled into the infirmary, his head throbbing. The strain of reinforcing the magical shield that surrounded the sleeping colt was beginning to take a heavy toll on him, but he had told nopony. They all had enough on their minds and hearts, as it was.

This was merely his part of the weight to bear.

As he stepped into Shimmershine's room, he saw Lyra Heartstrings, asleep once more on the couch.

“For the best,” he said.

She always had questions whenever he entered the foal's room, and he never had answers to offer. If she was exhausted enough to sleep, maybe her dreams were offering her some small peace of mind.

“They won't if I don't keep this barrier up, though,” he mumbled, and he turned towards the colt.

Shimmershine was looking right at him.

His heart skipped a beat, and he backpedaled several paces.

Regaining control of himself, he stepped forward.

“Is that... you?” he asked.

The foal nodded, still lying on his side. His eyes were glistening with tears.

Lyra stirred, awakened by the clatter of Shining's hooves on the floor as he had jumped back in surprise. She sat up, and gasped with a mixture of surprise and joy to see some semblance of awareness returned to Shimmershine's face. She was beside his bed in a second.

“I'm gonna go get Princess Celestia,” said Shining Armor. “She'll be here, ASAP.” He pronounced the acronym “A-sap,” a habit he had picked up in the military, and never dropped.

He said nothing else, but, turned and headed quickly out the door.

The colt sat upright in bed on his haunches, and stared downward, blinking. His mother sat down beside him on the bed's edge, her hind legs hanging down and her back erect in a fashion that was peculiar to her.

She had no idea what to say. She was aware, on a certain level, that the creature sitting beside her was not the same as the foal she had raised, but she did not know how to approach that truth.

Finally, she decided she would have to speak.

“Are you okay?” was all she could think of.

The foal shrugged, but said nothing.

“You want some food?”

There was a tray with some hay and oats on it that had been brought in earlier for Lyra, but she had not touched it. Shimmershine looked over at it, sitting on the nightstand, and nodded.

Lyra levitated it over in front of him, and he began to eat, still not speaking. She watched him for several minutes, and then the door opened.

“So he is awake,” said Princess Celestia.

She stepped unsteadily through the door. Neither she nor Lyra said anything else. They simply watched Shimmershine finish his meal.

Finally, after he had swallowed his last bite, Princess Celestia spoke again.

“Do you remember me?” she asked.

“Yes, I do,” said Shimmershine, “from when I met you in Ponyville, and from... before.”

Lyra was amazed. It was her son's voice, but at the same time not. There was a weight in it that it had never borne before, as if all the cares of an old, old stallion had been forced onto the fragile mind of a little colt.

“Well,” said Celestia, “how do you feel?”

“Lonely,” said the foal.

Lyra was compelled to reach out and touch him; to embrace him, or to offer some words of comfort, but could not find it in herself to do so.

“Why would you feel lonely?” asked Celestia. “Isn't somepony sitting right beside you?”

“I know,” said the foal. “Lyra Heartstrings. She's thirty-four years old, and her cutie mark is a lyre. She likes music and fairy tales.”

Lyra felt strange to hear her son describe her so plainly. It hurt deeply in a way that she could not fully decipher. Then, he said something that caused that hurt immediately to fade.

“She's my mother.”

“Yes,” said Celestia. “Now, who are you?”

“I'm...” He stopped, and after several seconds, he lifted his head.

“My name is Shimmershine,” he said.

“Precisely,” said Celestia.

“I wanna go home,” said the foal.

Now, at last, Lyra leaned over and hugged her son, tightly. He began to cry, and so did she.

***

“When will they come again?” asked Cadance.

Celestia stared out of the bedroom window of the same royal suite Twilight had rejected, and shook her head. The sun was hanging over the western sky, and somewhere in the Palace, Lyra Heartstrings was doing her best to comfort a being who was in every way both a foal and an ageless, cosmic deity.

“There is no way to know,” said the white Princess. “Shimmershine cannot contain them. He remembers what he used to be, but that has not restored his power in any respect. Nor has it given him the ability to contain these spirits, as I had hoped it might. I think we are safe as long as he is awake, but that is all I can say – and that only tentatively.”

“Will you try to fight them again?” asked the pink alicorn.

“Of course I will,” said Celestia, her brow furrowing. "I hope that it will be unnecessary, now that the Element of Magic has been returned to us, but if I must, I most certainly shall."

“But you're hurt,” said Cadance.

“Immaterial,” said Celestia. “My horn works as well as ever.”

“Yes,” said Cadance, “but you can't fly, you can't run, and you have a blind side, now – not to mention the pain. You're good at hiding it, but I can tell you're suffering. So can Twilight and Aunt Luna. Why won't you take any medicine?”

“I need my wits about me, Cadance. If that means I have to suffer a bit, so be it.”

“Bullshit,” said Cadance, and she nodded at an empty Cognac bottle on a table beside Celestia's bed. “This isn't about your wits; it's about ]wanting to hurt, for some reason.”

“Maybe I'm enjoying the pain,” said Celestia, her voice low and dark.

Cadance recoiled at her aunt's words.

“I have not been wounded – physically wounded – in aeons, Cadance. This agony makes me feel alive. It reminds me of the weight of my decision. It reminds me of Shimmershine and of his mother and of the pain they now bear. It reminds me of what will happen if we fail.” She drew a deep breath, and raised her head, proudly.

“I need it, I deserve it, and I will not be deprived of it.”

“Aunt Celestia, that's masochism,” said Cadance, accusingly.

“Yes,” whispered Celestia.

Author's Note

If you've come this far, just hold on a bit longer.

Ghost Pain

Rainbow Dash sat alone on the patio of a small cafe. She hadn't eaten much, but what little she had consumed seemed content, for once, to stay in her stomach. She could get food for free in the Palace, of course, but she had wanted time alone. She had thought that perhaps some time out of the Palace would help her to clear her head, but it wasn't working. She kept thinking back to the previous day's conversation with Scootaloo.

“Do I remember all those times she said she wanted to be like me?” she mumbled to herself. “How could I forget?”

She stared across the street, not looking at anything in particular. Ponies, mostly crystal, but a few of other races, walked through her field of vision. Their faces were all uneasy.

The official position on the matter of Celestia's battle with the mad ghosts was that it was "under control," and that the citizens would be protected from any further incursions. No word had been released about the severity of Celestia's own wounds. Still, it was evident from the expressions on the faces of the passersby that they knew the situation was probably more extreme than they were being told.

Despite the general malaise, some who recognized Rainbow Dash would wave at her, and she tried to offer them at least a nod and a smile in response. So far, none had approached her directly, and she was glad of that. The last thing she wanted right now was hero worship.

After some time, her luck in that matter finally ran out. She turned her head, watching wistfully as a bird flew by, and noticed a pair of pegasi approaching skittishly with their colt between them. She took a deep breath. She was still Rainbow Dash, and she was not about to break some foal's heart by waving them off, ignoring them, or flying away.

They stopped a short distance away, and the little pegasus' mother gave her an awkward wave and smile.

She waved back.

“Hi,” said Rainbow Dash, speaking just loudly enough for her voice to carry the distance.

“Hello,” said the mare, pushing her son forward. “We're here on vacation, and he recognized you.”

“You're his hero,” said the colt's father. “We were just hoping...” his words trailed off.

“It's okay,” said Rainbow Dash, and she looked down at the little colt.

The little colt had a plush toy made in her likeness clutched in his teeth, and she had to stifle a laugh.

“Come here, kid,” she said, smiling.

He froze, staring at her with huge eyes. His mother snickered, and gave him a nudge forward. Finally, he waddled up to Rainbow Dash, but said nothing – his mouth was full of her own, tiny wing, after all. He was white with a silver mane that was shot through with a single streak of bright blue.

“What's your name?” she asked.

He gently sat the tiny, stuffed version of herself on the ground to free his mouth.

“Silvergale” he said.

“That's a good name,” she said. “Nice and strong.”

His face beamed.

“You know,” she said, indicating the plush version of herself which Silvergale had sat down to speak, “I had one of those when I was little. Mine was Spitfire. I waited in line after an airshow for over an hour to get her to sign it for me.”

“Who's Spitfire?” he asked.

She sighed. Of course he was too young to remember her old idol.

“She was the Captain of the Wonderbolts before me,” said Rainbow Dash. “She was awesome.”

“As awesome as you?” asked the colt.

“I sure thought so,” said Rainbow Dash. “You want me to sign that?”

He nodded excitedly, and she fished in the breast pocket of her uniform for a pen she always kept there for that purpose.

“Here,” she said, and she picked it up with a wing, holding it in front of her face so that she could sign it where she always did, right in front of the cutie mark on its right flank.

There were hundreds of these things floating around with her autograph on them, now, – maybe thousands. Most of them had been signed as hers had been, for some fan, child or adult, who had waited in line after an airshow, and whose hoof she had shaken before they had been shunted on down the line to the next Wonderbolt at the table.

“There you go,” she said, setting the toy down where he could reach it.

“Thanks!” he said excitedly, looking at her signature with bright, joyful eyes before looking back up at her face. “I wanna be just like you, some day.” he said.

You and everypony else, she thought, but what she said was, “Well, just keep trying, okay? Don't ever quit.”

“I won't!” he said.

He would probably give up some day, she knew, when reality set in, and he needed what the world had cruelly decided to refer to as a “real job.”

Who knows, though? she thought. Some of them have to make it, right? We don't have any shortage of cadets at the academy, for sure.

“I'll practice real hard!” he said.

Quickly, he took the toy in his mouth, and ran back to show it to his parents.

“Thank you so much!” said his mother, and his father nodded at Rainbow Dash before turning to guide his son away down the street.

As Rainbow Dash watched them go, she took her pen, and stuffed it back into the breast pocket of her jacket. The seam of the pocket ripped, slightly.

“Oh, great,” she said, then she remembered that the hotel where Rarity was staying was nearby.

“Guess it won't be too much to ask,” she thought. “Thirty seconds of work for her, tops.”

She paid for her meal, and left. In a few minutes, she had found the hotel.

“Crystal Forelegs,” she said, looking up at the glistening high-rise. “This is the place.”

She stepped inside, and approached the lobby desk.

“Excuse me,” she said to the clerk, “I'm looking for a white unicorn named Rarity. She'd be with Sweetie Belle's... uh... entourage.

“Name?” asked the clerk, a bored-looking crystal stallion with a slicked-back mane.

“Rarity,” said Rainbow Dash.

“Your name,” said the clerk through a condescending sneer.

“Really?” she asked.

“Let me think about it,” he said. “Hmm... Mmmhmmm... HmHmHmHmHm... Yes, really; your name, please.”

“Rainbow Dash,” she said. “THE Rainbow Dash? Captain of the Wonderbolts?”

He did not seem impressed.

“I'll have to check the list,” he said. “Should I look under 'T' for 'The'?”

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes, and sighed.

“Be more of a dick," she said.

He scowled, and produced a long list of names from beneath the counter.

“Good gracious,” he said. “It's actually here. Cutie mark?”

She huffed, and turned to the side. He checked the list once more, and rolled his eyes, huffing loudly.

“The wonders never cease,” he said, the same snide irritability still hanging amidst his words. “Room seven-oh-six.”

“Thanks,” said Rainbow Dash, scowling, and she headed for the elevator.

In a few minutes, she had found the room. The door hung slightly open.

“That's odd,” she said.

She peered inside, but the unicorn was nowhere to be found. The air was humid and a thin cloud of steam hung near the bathroom. She could hear the sound of the shower running.

“Rarity?” she said loudly.

“I'm in here,” responded Rarity from the same direction as the sound of the running water. Her voice sounded shaky and distressed.

“Are you okay?” asked Rainbow Dash, as she walked towards the open door of the bathroom.

“In a manner of speaking,” replied Rarity, just as the pegasus came through the door.

Rarity sat upright in the shower, leaning against the wall. She was shaking violently, and her wet mane clung to her face, which by now had been washed clean of all its makeup.

“What's wrong?” asked Rainbow Dash, walking over to sit near her water-logged friend.

“I felt cold,” said Rarity, "even though I can't stop sweating. I still feel cold, even in this damned sauna, if you would believe it, and I keep shaking.”

“Are you sick?” asked Rainbow Dash.

“No,” said Rarity. “Just a little detox for shits and giggles.”

"Ah," said Rainbow Dash, beginning to see the picture. “You picked a hell of time to try to get clean."

“You're telling me,” said the unicorn.

Her horn glowed, and the water shut off. She telekinetically took a towel from the rack, and slowly, carefully stood. Rainbow Dash thought for a moment that her knees would buckle, but somehow she managed to stay on her hooves. She dried herself off, not saying a word, and finally stepped out of the shower.

“So, what brought this on?” asked Rainbow Dash, mostly wanting to break the awkward silence.

Rarity dropped the towel on the floor, and stumbled towards the bedroom.

“A lot of things,” she said. “I didn't think the withdrawals would hit so quickly.”

“Well you do stay high a lot,” said Rainbow Dash.

“Once again,” said Rarity, “You're telling me.”

She walked very shakily to the bed, and laid down on it.

“Why the visit?” she asked, trying to sound cheery.

“Oh,” said Rainbow Dash. “Don't worry about it.”

“No, go ahead,” said Rarity. “Did you need something?”

“Just a little seam fixed on my uniform,” said the pegasus. “Gotta look presentable, you know?”

“Don't we all?” asked Rarity. “All the fucking time.”

Rainbow Dash didn't reply.

“I should have never gone to Canterlot,” said Rarity.

“Huh?” said Rainbow Dash.

“I thought it would make me somepony,” said the unicorn, “but look at me, now.”

Rainbow Dash said nothing.

“There's a bottle of gin and a glass somewhere on my dresser,” said Rarity. “Could you bring it to me? I can't focus well enough to pick it up from here.”

“Is that a good idea?” asked Rainbow Dash.

“I threw out everything else,” said Rarity, “but I have got to have something, or I'm never going to be able to finish with that thing.”

Rainbow Dash stood, wondering what she meant. As she approached the dresser, she understood. Right beside the bottle and glass Rarity had requested, there sat Twilight's crown. It had been partially restored, bent mostly back into shape, but it was still slightly misshapen, and in bad need of polishing.

“I see,” said Rainbow Dash.

She tucked the bottle and glass under her wings, and walked to the bed.

“Just set them on the nightstand,” said the unicorn.

Rainbow Dash complied, and Rarity rolled towards the nightstand. Her mane, still wet, dragged across her face, partially obscuring it. She poured herself a glass, and Rainbow Dash was stunned to see that even her telekinesis was unsteady. The bottle shook as the unicorn removed the cap, and when she poured, quite a bit of gin missed the glass completely.

The pegasus sighed.

“Here,” she said. “Sit up.”

Rarity did, shaking all the while. Rainbow Dash finished pouring the drink, and put the glass directly into her hooves. Rarity clutched it tightly, unable to hold it still, and drank it down as if she had discovered a canteen full of water after a week lost in the desert. Almost immediately, she began to calm.

Seeing this, Rainbow Dash quickly decided that most of what Rarity was suffering through was probably in her head. That didn't make it any less difficult, though, and telling her that probably wouldn't help matters, either.

“For what it's worth,” said Rainbow Dash, “I'm proud of you.”

“So am I,” said Rarity. “Gods, what am I doing with myself?”

“Looks like you're trying to get your shit together,” said the pegasus.

“Not that,” said Rarity. “I mean everything – Canterlot, you know?”

“Yeah,” said Rainbow Dash. “I know. You get to where you think you wanna be, and it's nothing like what you imagined.”

“Exactly,” said Rarity. She set the glass down, and once more rolled over onto her side.

“You know,” she said, “I haven't made anything I really liked in years.”

“Oh, come on,” said Rainbow Dash. “As creative as you are...”

“It's not that,” said Rarity. “I get ideas I like, but it's not what those stuffy, rich bitches on Canterlot Boulevard would want.” She scowled. “Gods, I hate them all.”

“Rarity, you're scaring me,” snickered Rainbow Dash.

Rarity cackled out a quiet, shaky laugh.

“It's true,” she said. “Bunch of selfish, dirty little mares that have never worked for anything in their entire lives. You should see the way they look at me, Rainbow. All I am to them is a status symbol. As long as they're wearing my clothes and I show up at their parties, I stay in their good graces. All so I can have the life of which I have oh-so-deeply dreamed. Can you imagine what that's like?”

“Actually,” said Rainbow Dash, “I know exactly what that's like.”

“Really now?” asked Rarity.

“I don't even like flying, anymore, Rarity. I do it for training exercises, and at airshows, and if I have to go to the grocery store. That's about it.”

“Come on,” said Rarity. “Don't tell me that right now, Rainbow Dash.”

“Well, it's true,” said the pegasus. “It felt really good at first, hearing the crowds cheering, and chanting my name. Hell, it felt good for a long time. Then, one day, it just... didn't. They started up with the cheers, and all of a sudden I just wanted to be at home, laying in bed next to my big, goofy turtle, reading a book.”

“That sounds like a nice afternoon,” said Rarity.

"I don't think they're really cheering for me, anymore," said Rainbow Dash. "I think they're really just cheering for an idea they have of who I am. ”

“Well,” said Rarity, lifting her head to look at the pegasus, “maybe that idea is important to them.”

Those words hit Rainbow Dash like sunlight from behind curtains suddenly thrown open. She winced at them, and shook her head slightly, giving a "hmph."

“Never thought of that,” she said distantly. “Maybe it... is... important.”

“The idea they have of me, though?” said the unicorn. “Totally useless. I'm not their idol, Rainbow Dash. I'm an accessory to their own image." She sighed. "And then there's my sister.”

She curled up into a fetal position.

“She just wanted to be like me, however she could. So, she followed me off to Canterlot. She could have stayed in Ponyville, and had real, sincere friends. She could have sung her little heart out as much as she wanted, and everypony would have really appreciated having that little ray of light in their boring little town.'

“Now?” she said sadly. “Now, she's a product to be sold, and I'm the one who designs the package. She's terrified all the time that she won't be good enough somehow, and she'll lose all that. Then, she thinks I'll be disappointed in her, and no matter how much I tell her otherwise, she just can't believe it because she sees the way I live."

Rainbow Dash laughed bitterly.

“You're right,” she said. “We should have never left home.”

“When this is over,” said Rarity, “if the world still exists, do you want to go back to Ponyville?”

“I don't know,” said Rainbow Dash. “If I'm still in the Wonderbolts, it's not too far away, I guess, but I don't even know if I want to do it, anymore-- be a Wonderbolt, I mean.”

“Why did you want to do it in the first place?” asked Rarity.

“Why did I?” asked Rainbow Dash. “I don't even remember. I never thought about that back then. I just knew I wanted it.”

“Well, think it over,” said Rarity, “and pour me another glass of gin.”

***

Back at the Palace, Lyra Heartstrings, like Rarity, had also taken a shower, though hers had not been an attempt to stave off withdrawals, but more a matter of hygiene; she had not left her son's side since he had first fallen into his stupor.

Fluttershy had offered to let her and Shimmershine use her room, and had moved her things into Pinkie Pie's. The door was left open at Shining Armor's insistence, so that Shimmershine's behavior could be periodically observed by the patrolling guards. That was why it was easy for Pinkie Pie simply to stick her head through the door, and give a cheerful “Hi!”

The pink earth mare had often remarked to Lyra that she wished her own children were as well behaved as Shim, and she always seemed to be glad to see the shy, contemplative little pony. It was unsurprising that she would drop by, now that he was awake.

“Hello, Pinkie Pie,” said Lyra, who was unpacking the few things she had brought with her from a small suitcase. She was still damp, and her mane was wrapped in a towel.

“Ooh,” said Pinkie. “Sexy Momma.”

“Hush,” said Lyra, laughing slightly, and nodding to where Shimmershine sat on the floor.

Even if Pinkie Pie was only joking, Lyra didn't like for her son to see her flirting with other mares. It was just one more way that his world was different from the world of every other foal he knew.

“Oh, relax,” said Pinkie Pie. “How are ya, kid?” she asked, stepping over to the foal, who seemed listless and distant, though aware of his surroundings.

He shook his head, and said nothing.

“Don't be so down,” said Pinkie Pie, lifting his chin with a hoof.

He gave her a peculiar look.

“How can you still talk to me like this?” he asked. “You know I'm not the same as I was before.”

“Not if you don't wanna be, I guess,” said Pinkie Pie, “but you still look like that colt that comes over after school to play with my foals, as far as I can tell.”

“Your foals,” he said, quietly. “My friends.”

“Yeah,” said Pinkie Pie. “That's right.”

“What will they think about me?”

“That's up to them, I guess,” said Pinkie Pie, “but as long as you don't start floating in the air shooting death rays and screaming about 'magnificent power' or anything, I doubt they'll really care.”

The foal laughed just a little, and Lyra looked sharply towards him.

“Pinkie,” she said, “how do you do that?”

“I just sorta don't give a sh...” she stopped herself from releasing the expletive in front of the colt. “Hmm.”

"I can't do anything like that,” said Shimmershine. "I don't have any 'magnificent power,' or anything. "

“Well, then,” asked Pinkie Pie, “What's the difference?”

“I dunno.” said Shimmershine, shaking his head. “I remember... before, but I didn't really know much, then. I didn't know about anything other than me.”

“Then just be Shim, again,” said Pinkie Pie.

“I wanna do that,” said Shimmershine, “but I know what's happening because of me.”

"Hey, you didn't want this to happen,” said Pinkie Pie. “At least I don't think you did. If I'm wrong, though, I guess that makes you a villain, and you just don't seem like one.”

“I didn't mean to be,” said the colt. “I didn't know I was hurting anyone, and now I know why they hate me so much.”

“Well, I don't hate you,” said Lyra, walking over to sit beside the tiny pony.

“You should,” said Shimmershine. “I almost did the same thing to you I did to them."

“Well, you didn't,” said Lyra, and she gave him a hug, “and I'm glad.”

“Will they kill me?” asked the colt.

Lyra and Pinkie both recoiled.

“Everypony will want to, when they find out." He dropped his head, once more. "They'll be right."

“I don't they think that's going to happen,” said Pinkie Pie.

“Then I should kill myself,” said Shimmershine.

Lyra made a stunned squeaking sound in her throat.

“Don't say that!” she said, suddenly.

“I should or you should," said the colt, beginning to sniffle. "And when I'm dead, cut out my heart, and DESTROY IT!” he screamed.

The room fell silent for a few moments, and then Pinkie spoke.

“Like hell we will,” she said. “Do you know what we went through to get that thing?”

Shimmershine's expression changed to one of confusion.

“No,” he said. “I never heard that story.”

“Eh, you can find it on FiMfiction,” said Pinkie Pie. “'The Sun Eater'. Just be sure your mature filter's off. There's this one fight that goes a little overboard on the gore-o-meter.”

“What are you?” asked Shimmershine.

“You're asking me that?” said Pinkie Pie, in response.

“Never mind,” said the foal, “all that matters is that everypony's doomed as long as I'm alive.”

“Then we're doomed,” said Pinkie Pie. “Least it'll be a fun ride.”

“I don't understand you,” said Shimmershine.

“Yeah, you do,” said Pinkie Pie, and her face contorted momentarily in thought.

“You like singing songs?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Shimmershine.

“Cake and icecream?” she asked.

“Of course,” said the colt.

"Sunny days, and parties, and ice skating, and laughing 'til your sides hurt, and telling bad jokes, and playing pranks?

He nodded.

“Would you fight for your friends, even if it meant losing all of that other stuff I just said?”

“I guess so,” said Shimmershine.

“Then you understand me,” said Pinkie Pie. “And pretty much everypony else, too. So, what if you're a cosmic horror?”

Shimmershine blinked, and a strange look of understanding came over his face.

“Feel better?” asked the pink earth mare.

“Uh-huh,” said the foal.

“Well, I gotta go," said Pinkie Pie. Got lots of old friends around I need to see; but you two keep it together, okay?"

They both nodded, and Pinkie Pie stepped into the hallway.

"Still got it after all these years," she said.

***

Fluttershy wandered towards a park she had noticed on the way to the Palace. She hoped it would have a duck pond, or perhaps some squirrels.

She missed animals dearly.

After a few minutes, she found its gate, and wandered inside. There was a path made of crystalline cobblestones, and she followed it through the park, towards a small grove of trees. She was surprised to see, of all ponies, Applejack, lying in the grass beneath the trees with her head upright.

The orange mare saw her coming, and tipped her hat towards her.

“Hello, Applejack,” she said as she approached. “What are you doing here?”

“Might be my last day, for all I know,” said the earth mare. “Wanted to be around some trees. Just about every goddamn thing in this city is made of rock.”

“Well it is the Crystal Empire,” said Fluttershy. “Have you seen any critters around here?”

“Ha, yeah,” said Applejack. “There's a pond with some geese over yonder a little ways.” She indicated a direction.

“I'm going to go sit and watch them,” said Fluttershy.

“I'll go with you,” said Applejack.

They walked in silence for some distance, and finally, Applejack spoke.

“When are you getting them stitches out?” she asked.

“I don't know,” she said. “I was supposed to go back to the hospital this week, but I don't think I'm going home.”

“Oh, come on, Fluttershy.” said Applejack, exasperated.

“I can't, okay?” said the pegasus, and for once, her words were firm.

“It's your home,” said Applejack. “It was your home before he even moved into town.”

They reached the pond, now, and Fluttershy was pleased to see that there were, indeed, a few geese swimming on it.

“I know that, Applejack,” she said, “but if I go back after this, he'll do something awful.”

Applejack huffed.

“I know you don't want to hear it, but... I can't do anything about this. What am I supposed to do? Kill him? I'd hate myself. I'd never, ever be able to feel like myself again, even if I got away with it.”

“Then let me kill him,” said Applejack. “I got a shovel and a bigass farm. Won't nopony ever know where he went, and I don't reckon I'll ever feel like me again, no way.”

“Applejack,” said Fluttershy, forcefully. “I know what you're going to think when I say this, but you have to understand that I really want him to just live and be happy.”

Applejack shook her head, totally aghast.

“WHY?” she outright shouted.

“I don't know!” said Fluttershy. “It doesn't make any sense, at all, but I just want him to live and to change and to be happy. I just want it to be with somepony else.”

“You think he's gonna be happy with somepony else? Hell naw. He'll just go find somepony else like you. He wants somepony he can control.”

“But he hates himself for that,” said Fluttershy. “I can tell.”

“That's 'cause he's weak,” said Applejack. “If'n he was worth a damn, he wouldn't be afraid of somepony who could stand up to him. Don't know if there's any stallions like that left, though. I sure ain't seen one.”

“I don't know if he's weak or not,” said Fluttershy, “but I know he's ashamed of himself.”

“Well if being with you makes him ashamed of himself, he ain't gonna be happy, no way.”

“I know that,” said Fluttershy. “Neither one of us can ever be happy with the other. That's why I'm staying here.”

Applejack growled quietly through her teeth.

"There it is," she said. "That's what pisses me off,” said Applejack.

“I don't want to stay,” said Fluttershy, pleadingly.

“Then don't!” said Applejack.

She sighed.

“Fluttershy, you asked me a couple days back if you disgusted me,” said the earth mare. “Well, you don't. Fact of the matter is I think real well of you. What disgusts me is that somepony I think well of – one of my best friends – is giving her life away to somepony that don't deserve it.'

“I know how you are, girl,” she continued. “You ain't some kinda winged-wonder-war-machine, like Rainbow Dash. I quit expecting that of you years ago.” She drew a deep breath. “But you could at least have the respect for yourself to get somepony to stand beside you while you tell that motherfucker that you're through with him. Me or Pinkie or whoever – hell, I'll loan you Big Mac. He'll do it; he thinks pretty well of you, too.'

“Just don't walk away from us, like this. We want you around. We want you to be happy, like you used to be, before that sonofabitch came to town. You ain't gotta be afraid of him. He's afraid of everything himself, and all he needs to know is that if anything ever happens to you, we're coming for him. Just let him know that, and you'll never see him again. You can sleep as sound and tight in that little cottage of yours as you ever did."

Applejack pulled out her flask, and took a deep pull from it.

“And when you're ready," she continued, wiping her lips, "you can find somepony else that'll love you, and this time, they won't hurt you. You can do that, you know? I believe in that about you; you've always known for damned sure how to love somepony, and to let somepony love you.”

She sighed.

“That's one more way you're different than me, I guess,” said Applejack. “And better than me.”

Fluttershy said nothing, but stared at her reflection in the still water of the pond, looking at the stitch above her eye.

"You're wrong," she said, finally. "You do know how to love. It's just different for you. It's hard to love the way you love."

"Love ain't supposed to be hard," said Applejack.

"Yes it is," said Fluttershy. "Everypony just wants it to be easy. We all lie to ourselves about ponies we love. We lie to ourselves about ourselves. That makes it easy for the rest of us, but you can't do that. It's not your way."

Applejack's face was stolid, but she raised a hoof, and wiped a tear away from her eye.

"I'm grown cold inside, Fluttershy."

"Then love cold, Applejack," said the pegasus.

***

It was done.

Rarity sat back, and looked at the Element of Magic with a greater sense of pride than she had felt in years. It was impossible to tell that it had ever been through its long ordeal.

“Rarity,” she said, “you are so good you ought to be ashamed of it.”

A knock sounded at her door, and she opened it telekinetically. Sweetie Belle stepped inside.

“Wow,” she said, noticing the crown. “That looks a lot better.”

“A lot better?” said Rarity. “It's perfect.”

“Fair enough,” said Sweetie Belle. Her eyes narrowed.

“You look... almost sober,” she said, genuinely stunned.

“I am almost sober,” said Rarity, sipping at a gin and tonic she had mixed herself earlier. “Almost.”

“What the hell?” asked Sweetie Belle.

She noticed the drawer where she knew Rarity kept her heroine hanging open, and peered inside it.

“It's gone,” she said, stunned.

“Yes,” said Rarity. “I gave it to a bum on the street. He looked like he could use it.”

“Rarity!” said Sweetie Belle, disapprovingly.

“Well, I wasn't going to waste it,” said the older mare.

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes.

“You know what?” she said. “I don't even care.”

“Well,” said Rarity, “I can't make any promises that this is permanent.”

“It can be,” said Sweetie Belle.

“I'm not nearly as certain of that as you sound,” said Rarity, “and you don't sound certain, at all.”

“I'll help you,” said Sweetie Belle.

“I know that,” said Rarity. “And that's going to make it all the worse when I fall off the wagon.”

“Then I'll help you climb back on,” said Sweetie Belle.

She stepped close to her big sister, and nuzzled at her neck.

“How many times?” asked Rarity, staring at the crown.

Sweetie Belle shrugged.

“How many do you need?”

***

Celestia sat patiently as the Palace doctor, a young unicorn mare with a brown coat and a green mane, unwrapped the bandage from around her face and ruined eye. It was humbling and even humiliating, but it had to be done. At the very least, this was the last of her wounds that had to be redressed. To lessen somewhat the sting of this necessity, the doctor had at least come to her suite in the Palace, where it could be done in private.

As the last winding of the bandage came away, the doctor grunted, as if it caused her some degree of pain just to see Celestia's terrible injury.

“Is it really that bad?” asked Celestia.

“Would you like to see?” asked the doctor, furtively.

She had not yet seen the wound, herself. It had been bandaged while she was unconscious, and had stayed that way.

“I suppose I must, eventually,” said the white alicorn.

The doctor stepped to the side, and Celestia stood. She hobbled into the bedroom of the suite, and stepped to the mirror.

“Gods, I'm hideous,” she said, staring into the ragged hole from which her right eye should have stared back.

The blow had not only obliterated her eye, but had torn away most of the eyelid. A little magic and the regrowth of her fur would keep the rest of the scars from showing too badly, but that tattered void in her face would always be there to remind her of the course she had chosen.

In her youth she had been vain, but as she had grown older and wiser, vanity had given way to a simple understanding that she had, by no merit of her own, been gifted with beauty. Still, though she knew she had done nothing to deserve it, she had always been glad of it.

Now, for the first time in her many aeons of life, she felt truly ugly. She let a tear rise, and she actually enjoyed the sensation of it stinging in the empty, crusted place where her eye had been.

“Wrap it,” she said.

She sat down, and the doctor stepped to her side. In a few minutes the horrible wounds were hidden once more from her sight, and in some way, that returned to her some small peace of mind.

“Thank you,” she said, quietly.

“Would you like a little Morphine?” asked the doctor.

“No,” she said firmly, a slight ferocity behind the word.

The doctor shook her head, a look of pity tracing briefly across her face. She had been trying to get Celestia to take some kind of painkiller all day, but the Princess would have none of it.

“Just be sure not to lay on your right side, for now,” she said.

“I will,” said Celestia, and the doctor walked out of the room, leaving the medical bag she had brought along. The supplies in it would be necessary again in the morning.

Celestia stood, and walked towards her bed, her gait uneven and shaky.

As she finally reached the bed, an ache arose in her right wing. It seemed to stem not from the tip of the stump, but from further down the wing, though that part of it was now forever gone, torn away so quickly in the melee that Celestia had not even seen it happen. Still, though, the pain was real; a sharp, rhythmic throbbing all along the length of the wing that was no longer there.

“Ghost pain,” she said, as she eased herself carefully onto the bed.

She sighed, and shut her eye. According to instinct, the muscles on the other side of her face contracted also, causing the remnants of her eyelid to try to shut. Like everything else she did with that side of her face, it hurt.

She relaxed her exhausted body, and hoped as sleep took her that at least in her dreams her body might be whole.

“Hello, sister,” said Luna.

The two of them stood bodily in an empty, wavering void of many colors, surrounded by distant, twinkling lights, like stars.

“What are you doing here?” asked Celestia, aware that she was asleep and disappointed to find that here, too, her wounds remained.

“Guarding your dreams,” said Luna. “After all, who in all the world has more reason to have a nightmare right now than you?”

“The child,” said Celestia.

“He is behind Shining Armor's barrier,” said Luna. “I cannot protect him – not in this way, at least.”

“How terrible,” said Celestia. “All of it.”

“Yes,” said Luna, “but still most of all for you. There are things in your mind right now that are horrible, indeed.”

“And I suppose I do not see them because you are here?” she asked.

“I speak not of things that can be seen,” said Luna, “but of things that are felt. The worst kind of nightmares, these – the kind that follow us into the waking world.”

Celestia said nothing. She merely winced at another sudden pain from the phantom wing.

“Do you still think they would be proud to see me?” she asked.

“Why would they not?” asked Luna. “I am.”

The void twisted, and out of it there came an image of their father, eyes and mane aglow with a golden light, as Celestia always remembered him.

“Would he have chosen this path?” asked Celestia, looking at the specter her memories had conjured.

“I cannot say,” said Luna, “and he is beyond asking. It is most likely that he is now only a maddened revenant.”

The huge stallion faded into the swirling abyss, and Celestia turned back towards Luna.

“I do not want to fight him,” she said, “not even if his mind is gone, and not even if we can win.”

“Perhaps we will not have to,” said Luna. “Perhaps Twilight Sparkle and her friends can give him and the rest of these unfortunate beings real peace, once and for all.”

“Do you believe that?” asked Celestia.

“I hope,” said Luna.

“So do I,” said Celestia.

“Rest,” said Luna. “I will hide you from the darkness.”

“Thank you,” whispered Celestia, and the void faded into a familiar place from long ago – her home, once upon a distant time. She was a filly again, and there, also, was her little sister. They were practicing their telekinesis by making a long daisy chain. Her father and mother watched from under a huge, old oak tree that swayed in the breeze.

She could not remember how she had come to be there, and for the duration of that sweet dream, she did not wonder why.

***

Shimmershine, asleep far below surrounded by a faint, purple barrier, was having a dream not nearly so reassuring.

“You think it so wonderful that they would call you their own?” asked the many.

“I know it is,” said the one.

“Then how much more meaningless shall it become when they are destroyed?” asked the many.

“You won't destroy them,” came the stalwart reply of the one. “They're stronger than you think they are.”

“It matters not,” they said. “We are within your heart. We have searched it, and seen what is dearest to you: the creature you call 'mother.' Know that when we are again set free, we shall choose her for our portal, and she she shall be destroyed.”

"I won't let you," came that singular, tiny voice.

"Do you think that you are what you were before merely because you remember it?" they asked. "You are a tiny, finite being with tiny, finite power."

"But my heart is still my heart." said the boy.

Author's Note

After all the dire, heavy things that had happened in the last few chapters, I felt this was a good place for a short breather with something a bit more uplifting. I even tried to add a little humor with the desk clerk at the hotel.

I'd been listening to System of A Down's old Mezmerize album a good bit, and "Lost in Hollywood" was stuck in my head when I was writing the scene between Rainbow Dash and Rarity. It definitely inspired a couple of lines from that conversation.

Writing this chapter was where I really realized that Shimmershine had to still speak like a little boy. In the first draft, I tried changing his mode of speech significantly from what it was before his memory was reawakened. He went back to the cold, emotionless speech of Cenasolus in "The Sun Eater." It made him unsympathetic, and ruined him as a character. I like the idea that even though he remembers what he was before, it's still separated from him, in some way.

Iron and Salt

Cadance watched her husband uneasily as he sat at his desk in his office. He had not come to bed the whole night before, and now, even with the foal awake, he still chose not to sleep. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he stared downward at a stack of papers, eyes unmoving. A glass of Scotch sat beside it, but he had drank only a little of it.

“Go to bed,” she said, firmly but gently. “You need to rest.”

“I can't,” he said. “When I try to sleep, I see things; some kind of backlash from the shield. If I sleep, I'm afraid they'll try to come into our world again through me.”

“I won't let them,” said Cadance. It was a whisper, but there was a certain ferocity behind it.

Shining Armor chuckled, and raised his head.

“You're one of the good ones,” he said. “You know that?”

She stepped over to him, and layed her head and neck beside his own.

“I can't hold this off much longer,” he said.

“I know,” she said, quietly.

“Hey!” came Twilight's excited voice from the opening door. “It's done!”

“Whoops,” she said, backpedaling halfway into the hall. “Bad time?”

“No,” said Shining Armor. “It's fine.”

“Rarity finished fixing the... my crown,” said the purple alicorn. “She wants everypony to come and see.”

“Well, let's go see, then,” said Shining Armor, and he stood. He stumbled slightly as he found his hooves, but then steadied himself.

Twilight gave her brother a look of pity.

“Just hold on a little longer,” she said. “This is almost over.”

“Relax,” he said. “It'll take more than a little thing like the end of the world to put me down for good.”

Cadance smiled at him, and nuzzled at his neck.

They followed Twilight back to the Palace Parlor, where Celestia, Luna, and everypony else were waiting. Lyra and Shimmershine were there also, sitting on a small couch together.

Rarity sat on a cushion, and a large, bejeweled box lay beside her on the floor. She was shaking slightly.

“Rarity,” said Twilight, noticing the tiny tremors running through her body, “are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” she said. Then, she levitated the box upward.

“No, she said; I'm better than fine.”

Sweetie Belle gave her a strange look of admiration that Twilight couldn't quite place, but as the box opened up, her eyes turned with everyone else's to the gleaming, golden crown within it.

“You're right,” said Twilight. “You are better than fine; you're amazing.”

“I do my best,” smiled Rarity. Her voice seemed hazy, but there was a positivity and a focus in it that had been missing since Twilight had first encountered her in the package store.

“When will we be ready to use it?” asked Rainbow Dash. “To use them.”

“Whenever you're all ready,” said Twilight, “I'm ready.”

“Then I say let's get 'er done,” said Applejack.

“Right now?” asked Lyra, anxiously.

“The longer we put it off,” said Celestia, "the greater the chance that another attack will take place.

“I see,” said the green unicorn.

“Alright then, girls” said Twilight, and she levitated the crown from the box.

She gave it a long look, trying to put in order how something so far beyond belief had come to pass. She thought of Spike, of her other self who had died leaning on her shoulder, and of the other five human women in the photograph. Each of them were, by now, most likely also dead.

Her eyes hardened.

“Put your makeup on, put your manes up pretty, and meet me tonight in the Crystal City.”

“What?” asked Pinkie Pie.

Twilight did not respond, but she saw Cadance smiling at her from across the room, her husband leaning on her shoulder.

***

They met on top of the Palace. As had been the case when they had first chosen to confront Cenasolus, there was little use in trying to hide. No matter where they did what they were about to do, if they should fail, nowhere in the world would be remote enough to protect anypony.

It was here that the fate of the world would be decided, beneath the gaze of the Mare in the Moon, atop the great Crystal Tower, so like the towering palace in Frigidus where they had first found the aethervox.

They stood in a circle around the little colt. He seemed fearful, but somehow also determined. He breathed heavily, but slowly, containing and controlling his fear much better than his age should allow. His mother sat outside the circle, her own face betraying uncertainty and worry. Celestia, Luna, and Cadance stood to the side, watching intently. Shining Armor sat beside his wife on his haunches, his weariness evident in his posture and expression. Applebloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle all stood near the Princesses and Lyra.

“What do we do, now?” asked Fluttershy.

Twilight shrugged, and pulled a cigarette butt from her mouth. She dropped it, and ground it out with her hoof.

“We set this motherfucker off,” she said.

The elements began to glow, and so did Twilight's eyes. They had all seen this before, but it had been years ago. None of them had ever really become accustomed to it, and the sight was still unsettling.

They levitated upward, carried aloft by the power of the glowing talismans they all wore, and from each Element there shone forth a beam of bright, colored light.

Shimmershine's chest began to glow, and in a moment, so did Lyra's horn.

She looked up, at it, and screamed in agony, putting her hooves to her temples. Then, she collapsed forward onto her belly, immediately drawing Sweetie Belle's attention.

"Miss Heartsrings, are you okay!?" she asked, stepping quickly in front of her, and kneeling down.

"There are voices." she said. "Voices in my mind!"

Cadance, Scootaloo, and Applebloom all stepped closer.

"There are so many!" she screamed. "They're so LOUD!"

"What the hell!?" said Applebloom, kneeling beside Lyra.

"They're trying to use her as a portal," said Celestia, looking down at the agonized unicorn. "The Elements have activated the aethervox. They're going to try to come through and stop them from being used." She shook her head in confusion. "But why her? If it's active, why not come in through the aethervox directly?"

"STOP IT!" came a high-pitched screech. Its source was Shimmershine, and instantly, Luna understood.

"They want revenge!" she shouted. "They're trying to destroy her mind to get at the child!"

Twilight turned her gleaming eyes towards Celestia, and the Princess could not help but think how very like her father's they appeared.

"Can we stop it!?" asked Twilight, frantically.

"I don't know!" shouted Celestia. "The Elements are acting of their own will!"

"Gods, I'm DYING!" shouted Lyra.

She convulsed and flailed wildly.

"MOM!" screamed Shimmershine, watching in horror.

Applebloom wrapped her forelegs around those of the unicorn, and held tight.

"Somepony's gotta hold her, or she'll hurt herself," she grunted out, straining to restrain the much smaller mare, even with her impressive earth pony strength.

"You have to try to stop it!" shouted Cadance.

"The aethervox has already been activated," said Celestia. "If we stop the Elements, they'll come through, anyway!"

"I have had enough of this insufferable bullshit," said Luna, and she stepped to where Applebloom was still struggling to control Lyra's convulsions.

She looked at Scootaloo.

"Hold her head still!" she said.

Scootaloo wrapped her forelegs around Lyra's head, holding her as tightly as she felt she could without hurting her.

"That's good enough," said Luna, lowering her horn towards Lyra's. "Didn't want to poke out her damned eye."

"Rub it in, why don't you?" said Celestia, flatly.

"Really?" said Luna, stopping mid-motion to look at her sister. "Right now?"

Celestia shrugged.

"I hate you, Celestia."

"I love you, Luna."

Luna touched the tip of her horn to the tip of Lyra's. There was a tremendous spark, and an electrical crackle. Luna's head recoiled, and she shook it quickly, batting her eyes.

"Dammit!" she said sharply. "They're repelling me. They planned for this."

"Is there anything we can do?" asked Shining Armor, stumbling towards where Lyra lay restrained.

"I don't know," said Celestia, her voice sinking direly.

"You don't get to choose, anymore" said Shimmershine, listlessly. "I choose what comes out of my heart. I choose where, and I choose when. I choose how." He seemed to pass out completely, laying over backwards in midair, his eyes rolling back into his head.

Suddenly, the glow from Lyra's horn slowly faded, and she lost consciousness. Even as she fell still and silent, the light around the foal's heart intensified.

"SHIM!" screamed Pinkie Pie, still held aloft by her Element. "What are you doing!?"

They were all shocked to hear a single voice, distant and huge; the same cold, dispassionate voice that had first spoken to them from the aethervox years ago.

"What you -- all of you -- taught me to do."

Then, from everywhere at once, there came the cacophonous roar of countless enraged voices.

“THIS IS BLASPHEMY!” they screamed. “YOU ARE ALL HERETICS AGAINST THE RIGHTFUL ORDER OF THE UNIVERSE!”

“Fuck the universe!” shouted Applejack. “Ain't never been nothing but a bitch to none of us!”

"WE WILL NOT SUFFER THIS INSOLENCE!"

A spire of golden light shone upward from the foal's gleaming chest, and formed into a sphere of brilliant light. From it there began to flow more of the bizarre, alien gods, clawing, scratching, and crawling their way from its illumination. Soon, their screams of rage drifted down to envelop the city. There were so many that they quickly eclipsed the enormous, throbbing ball of light.

“The portal is too close,” said Celestia. “There will be too many, this time.”

She shut her eye, and her horn shone with its characteristic, golden-white light. The swollen mass moved higher in the sky, growing so much as it did so that it still continued to fill more and more of the night sky despite moving further and further away.

"WE DEMAND WHAT WE ARE DUE!" shouted the voices, coming now both from the mouth of the colt and the gargantuan mass of spirits overhead.

“You are due nothing,” said Luna, harshly. “Your time is over. It has been over.”

A horrible sound ripped downward, causing the crystal tower to vibrate fiercely.

It was the sound of fear.

“Is it working?” asked Cadance, half-panicked.

Celestia grinned up at the orb.

“Yes,” she said, a peculiar mix of anger and satisfaction pervading that solitary syllable. “Look.”

The ball had begun to shrink, and from within it there came horrible shrieks of terror and rage.

“Are they dying!?” shouted Fluttershy, floating nearby, and staring upward.

“They were already dead," said Celestia.

Then, a single voice shouted out of the cacophony.

“THIS IS MY WORLD!”

Celestia and Luna looked upward sharply, their eyes wide.

“No,” said Celestia. “It cannot be.”

“I AM SOL!” shouted the voice. “MY WILL BE DONE!”

“What's going on!?” shouted Twilight, her eyes still aglow.

“Stop!” shouted Celestia. “Quickly, Twilight!”

“I can't!” she shouted. “I can't control it!”

The Elements of Harmony seemed to be pulled upward, and their wearers with them.

“The Elements!” shouted Celestia. “Take them off, now!”

No sooner had she spoken these words than there was a blinding flash from the six jeweled talismans, and when it had faded, their wearers were gone. Overhead, the orb still loomed. However, it had fallen silent, and it seemed to have solidified in some way.

“Where are they!?” said Shining Armor.

“Aunt Celestia,” said Cadance, “what's going on!?”

Shimmershine lay on the roof below where he had floated. Though he had appeared unconscious only moments earlier, he now began to stir.

“He's... He's still there,” said Shimmershine, sitting up onto his haunches. “That huge stallion you call 'Sol.'” He sniffled once.

"Is my mom okay?" he asked.

"I think so," said Applebloom, "She's breathing."

Shimmershine waddled over and nudged at Lyra's shoulder his forehead. She stirred, and opened her eyes.

"What happened?" she asked. "Shim, are you okay?"

"Uh-huh," he said. "The voices are all gone, now. They can't come back."

Lyra sat up, and hugged him.

“Princess, what's going on?” asked Sweetie Belle, running to stand before the white horse. “What went wrong?”

Celestia looked around at the terrified faces that surrounded her.

“Father and Mother created the Elements of Harmony,” said Celestia. “Their own souls are still bound to them. The Elements embody their eternal will to see this world endure in harmony. That wish, their one greatest dream, gives the Elements their power.”

“Which means what!?” asked Applebloom.

“Father's spirit cannot be undone by the Elements,” said Luna, and she stamped down hard with a hoof. “Not against his own will.”

“Why did I not anticipate this?” asked Celestia.

“I didn't either,” said Luna. “I thought for all the world that he would want to be at peace, but it would seem that his long imprisonment has stolen his reason.”

“Well, where are they?” asked Scootaloo. “Tell me they're not dead.”

“They're with him,” said Shimmershine, and everypony turned towards him. “I saw.”

“Well, where is he, then?” asked Cadance.

“There,” said Celestia, nodding upward at the orb, which loomed larger than the moon in the sky above.

“We have to go get them,” said Cadance.

“Yeah,” said Shining Armor, and he stood. He took a step towards Princess Celestia, and collapsed completely.

“Shining!” shouted Cadance.

“I'm okay,” he said weakly. “Go get Twilie, and the rest of them.”

“I'm not leaving you like this,” said Cadance.

“It's okay, Shining Armor,” said Celestia. “Only I must go.”

“Seriously?” asked Scootaloo. “You expect the rest of us to just stay behind!?”

“I must speak to him,” said Celestia. “I must reason with him; plead with him, if need be. If he remembers who I am, then he may listen.”

“And if not?” asked Cadance.

“I have no idea,” said Celestia.

“I'm with Scoots,” said Applebloom. “There is no way, no how that I'm not going after AJ.”

“I'm sorry,” said Celestia, “but there will be nothing you can do. Sol is mad with time and power, and his power is very, very great.”

“And what makes you think that I will let you go without me?” asked Luna.

“Luna,” said Celestia, and she stepped to her sister. “I need you to hold that abomination in place. It is trying to move downward, towards our world – to do what, I do not care to imagine. It is taking all my will to restrain it. Only one of us can go.”

She looked up at the weird, distant thing in the sky.

“I am the one who brought Twilight Sparkle to this. I laid too much of my own burden on her, and this has been the ultimate result. The lives of she and her friends are my responsibility. Just this once, I must ask you to allow me to bear my burden alone.”

Luna nodded very slightly.

“I understand,” she said.

“Can you take me there through the light of the moon?” asked Celestia. “I... cannot fly.”

“I can,” said Luna.

“Then let us go.”

The moon shone brighter for a moment, and they both disappeared.

***

The place where Celestia and Luna appeared had seemed ugly and grotesque from a distance. Up close, standing upon it, it seemed a thousand times more malignant and foul. It was like a tiny world, alive in completely the wrong way. There was skin where there should have been ground, and beneath that, the sisters could feel a framework of bone and muscle tissue. There were large, chitinous plates on the ground here and there, formed from the exoskeletons of creatures insectoid and crustacean. There were trees of bone, covered in vein-laced skin and with hair where there should have been leaves. Fur of different kinds grew in patches like grass, and tiny, weird plants made of bone, muscle, and sinew sprouted from the warm, gently pulsating ground.

Sol had made this place, somehow, from the twisting and melding together of the countless dead beings which had been his compatriots. It was as if all things fauna had reshaped themselves into flora, forced through this cruel transformation by nothing other than the long-dead alicorn's will to once again be master over some world.

Luna took a deep breath.

“Release it to me,” she said. “I will wait here.”

Celestia let go the force of her will which held this ugly, twisted world away from the beauty of the world far below, and she felt a tremor rock through the malignant ground beneath her feet.

Luna gritted her teeth, and the tremor ceased.

“I have it,” she said.

“Return, and hold this aberration at bay,” said Celestia. “I will find them.”

“How will you get back?” asked Luna.

“I do not know,” said Celestia, “but you cannot risk staying here. If I do not return, someone must take responsibility for the sun.”

“If you do not return,” said Luna, “I doubt that will be necessary.”

“Go,” said Celestia.

Luna disappeared, and left her alone in that impossible, alien landscape.

“Poor father,” she whispered, “Have you gone this mad?”

She shut her eye, and reached out with her subconscious. It was not so easy for her as for her sister, but still, she could faintly detect the mind and heart of her sire and her student. Soon, she was certain that Twilight, the other ponies, and her own father were not on this world, but in it, somewhere deep down near its core.

She stood still, wondering how she could hope to reach them. She could blast her way in magically, but the likelihood that she would kill those she had come to save was too great.

As she considered these things, she heard from somewhere nearby a rhythmic sound, like wind – the sound of breathing. She hobbled over a small rise, careful not to step on any of the ugly, twisting plants that grew from its surface.

In a small valley below where she stood at the crest of the living hill, she saw the source of the noise: a huge orifice, obviously vital in the tiny, living planet's respiration. It expanded and contracted with each breath, never closing completely.

It was too small to sustain a world of this size on its own, she decided. There must be many like it. Whether this was even the best way to enter this grotesque abomination, and whether it would bring her closest to her goal, she could not guess.

Still, however, as had far too often been the case in her life, she had no better plan.

She stepped down the hill carefully, and drew close to the edge of the black opening. Each inhalation and exhalation of the huge, alien orifice whipped at her mane. She cast a light spell, and peered inside.

It was like a shaft that went straight down. Its sides were pink, glistening mucus membranes. There seemed to be no obstacles to impede her, but still, she found herself hesitant to enter the void beneath her hooves. Finally, she remembered what she had come here to do, and lifted herself from the ground telekinetically.

She levitated herself down carefully, keeping her one remaining wing and the stump of its twin tight to her body, so that the steady gusts of the thing's breath, cool and dry on the way in, warm and humid on the way out, would not throw her about inside the darkness of the long, living tunnel.

Finding after a considerable distance that the passage beneath her had begun to slope, she set down her hooves, and cut out the telekinetic influence that held her aloft. This turned out to be a mistake, however, as her horseshoes gave on the slick, moist surface. She rolled down, head over tail, until the passage leveled out more completely. Mercifully, the warm tissue against which she came to rest was soft. Still, however, her stumps ached terribly from the impacts they had endured during her tumble.

She stood, and cast the glow from her horn around the dark chamber. It was the inside of a lung, she quickly decided. It was dryer than had been the passage through which she had entered, and as the air flooded into and out of it, the entire chamber, as enormous as the foyer of Canterlot Castle, expanded and contracted.

She reached out again, feeling for Twilight or her father. They were closer now.

She followed that sensation, and it led her to the wall of the huge lung. Seeing no other way to continue, she ripped a hole into its surface with her horn. Air whistled into and out of this new opening, and she forced her way through it, feeling it tearing around her shoulders and wings -- whole and ruined -- as she strained past its tension.

Past it, there were more passages, still. They were like caves, but their stalactites and stalagmites were bony protrustions with a thin, pale skin as a covering. In every respect possible, it seemed, including its subterranean regions, this weird, little planet mimicked the natural world.

She continued through this dark, living world towards the place where she sensed her student, finding more of the huge, dark chambers along the way. In some she found gigantic, pulsing hearts, and in others, long, twisting tracts of enormous intestines. Wherever she had to, she cut her way forward through whatever barrier presented itself.

It had been hours, at least, when she finally saw a light glowing dimly from the end of a passageway. As she approached it, it grew bright enough that she no longer needed the spell from her horn to see her way forward.

What she found at the end of that hallway surprised her beyond any of the hideous things she had yet seen: an oaken door, glowing with a magical emblem – her cutie mark.

And her father's.

As she approached it, the twin suns on her flanks glowed slightly, and the rays shining from the emblem on the door rotated around its center. There was a loud clattering as if from many locks, and it opened to her.

What she found inside almost made her faint.

“This place,” she said. “This place has been gone for so long”

It was the sitting room of her childhood home, an enormous castle that had once stood upon the tallest mountain in the land now called Equestria – the same mountain upon which she had aeons later founded Canterlot.

Everything around her was magical. Tables had no legs, but merely floated in the air. There was light from small, floating orbs of glass filled with nothing at all. There were shelves of books which she knew contained more pages than their sizes should have allowed. Everything everywhere was crafted in the same gentle, flowing lines and soothing colors that she had been so careful to emulate with Canterlot.

Most importantly, however, in the middle of it all, there was Twilight Sparkle – and there was Sol.

He was lying on a huge, brocade cushion, looking down at Twilight. This in itself would have been disconcerting, but what made the image all the more difficult for her to process was that Twilight had regressed in age.

She was a filly, no older than three or four. She wore a smaller version of a dress Celestia remembered having owned, herself, and she was playing with tiny, plastic pony dolls, moving them about with her hooves.

“What is the meaning of this?” asked Celestia.

“The meaning of what?” asked Sol, staring down at Twilight, and smiling.

“Why is Twilight Sparkle a child?” she asked.

“Why would she not be?” asked Sol. “Is that not what you have always called her? Is that not what they all are, your little ponies?”

“Twilight,” said Celestia, and the little filly looked up at her.

“Daddy, who is that lady?” asked Twilight.

“Why, that is your sister, Kaelestia,” said Sol.

Not even Luna had pronounced her name with that hard "C" and slight lilt of the first syllable for thousands upon thousands of years. Celestia did not even so imagine the word in her own thoughts, anymore. This was no figment of her imagination. There could be no doubt that this was, indeed, her father, Sol.

“Daddy?" whispered Celestia. "Sister?" her voice shook with confusion and disbelief. “Twilight, don't you remember me?”

The little filly shook her head. Celestia could see Twilight eying her bandaged wounds curiously, but she would say nothing else to this horse whom she perceived as a total stranger. She had always been that way when she was younger, Celestia remembered. It was part of what had made it so difficult for her to make friends, and that thought made Celestia wonder where her friends were.

“Where are the others?” she asked.

“Look outside,” he said, nodding towards a window.

Celestia walked in the direction he indicated, and looked out the window. Outside this chamber was the same lawn she remembered from her own youth. The trees were in the same places, even the huge oak tree that had been present in the dream Luna had created for her the night before. The same tiny, stone bridge passed over the same little fish pond. The wall rose to exactly the same height, each and every stone set in precisely the same place it had been so many thousands of years ago. In every way Sol had flawlessly recreated the home he had known during the happiest era of his long, long life.

The other ponies, also reduced to fillies, were all playing, chasing one another about under the warm glow of an afternoon sun.

“Little Twilight here is something a loner, it would seem” said Sol, “but she's a good girl.”

He looked down at her. “Aren't you, Twilight?”

Twilight looked up at Sol.

"Mmmhmm," she said, smiling and nodding slightly.

“Father, what is this?” asked Celestia, confused and terrified.

“This, Caelestia, is harmony,” he said. “Peace and harmony given to those who deserve it most: those who embody it.”

“But this is wrong!” said Celestia, turning to face him, though still he turned his eyes only towards the filly Twilight. "It is not right for you to... reduce them all to this!" She indicated Twilight. “That unicorn there is a powerful sorceress; a Princess!”

Twilight looked up from her dolls, confused at Celestia's words.

“But was she happy?” asked the golden-maned ghost, still looking at Twilight Sparkle.

How tiny she seemed next to the enormous horse.

“Has her life been one of joy or one of sorrow?" he asked. "I have seen their memories, these six, and for all the goodness of their hearts, for all their laughter, honesty, kindness, generosity, and loyalty, for their magic, and even for their friendship to one another, they have still suffered terribly.”

He stepped to the window, and stood beside his daughter, never turning to face her. He watched the five fillies through window, and shook his head sadly.

“These little children have endured so much, Caelestia. They have endured death, and the the pain of solitude. They have endured violence at the hooves of those they love. They have endured slavery to their own weakness and to the brokenness of their own minds. They have endured the fading of hope and the loss of their greatest dreams.”

“But, Father, they have endured,” said Celestia.

Sol shut his eyes, and shook his head. He drew in a breath, and when he spoke, his voice was low and heavy with sadness.

“In the darkness of absolute nothingness, for aeons, my daughter, I contemplated my mistakes.”

“Mistakes?” asked Celestia. “You were flawless, Father.”

“All little girls believe that of their fathers,” he said.

“If I was flawless, would any of this had happened? I would have found a better way. I would have stayed with you and your mother and your sister. We could have had the bliss of billions of years – the lifetime of the sun, itself, to spend with one another. I cowered for fear of your deaths, and so I gave myself up for you. For that, I was damned to the very loneliness and loss that I had sought to avoid."

He gave a "Hmph," and shook his head.

“And for what?” he asked, turning and taking a step away from her.

“Your mother perished for despair, your sister was taken by darkness, the world was beset with misery, and the Elements of Harmony were bound to these six broken hearts.”

“All those things played out as they had to,” said Celestia, “and most were not unpleasant in their resolution.”

“But they still happened,” said Sol.

“How do you even know of these things?” asked Celestia.

“Her,” said Sol, nodding towards Twilight, who was still playing with her little, plastic ponies. “And them.” He gestured out the window.

Still, he would not look at her.

“I took those memories from them, Caelestia, so that they would not have to bear them, anymore. I took from them all their memory of a world full of death, hatred, fear, and loss. I can bear these things in their stead, now, and they can have the joy that you, yourself so long to see in their hearts.”

“I do long to see joy in them, but not because of a lie! Their choices are who they are – even their mistakes. You cannot deny them that.”

“Deny?” asked Sol, “I mean to relieve them of that. Would they have made those choices -- those mistakes -- if they had known their outcomes? I daresay not. Why must they bear the consequences of decisions they made without knowing their full weight? It is that cruelty of chance, the thing we call 'fate,' that I mean to remedy.”

He paused, and smiled out the window at the happy, playing fillies.

“I did not believe I would ever have a second chance, my daughter. I held out no delusion that I even deserved it. Then, after so very long without even the passing of days or nights by which to measure it, I felt that faint glimmer of your heart within that empty void of darkness. I reached out with all my being to give you a warning and a chance to preserve your world, and then I watched as you did something remarkable.”

He smiled at the playing fillies.

“You found a better way.”

“We found the only way,” said Celestia. “If I had cast myself into the jaws of the Sun Eater as you did, would he not merely have returned, again? There was no future in it, though when you did it, it was just and good; the only choice you had. You had no way of knowing he would return so quickly. You acted by the same precepts you instilled in me, and by that action, you gave us a future. Would you throw that away -- your own sacrifice -- by stealing back that very gift to replace it with this fabrication?”

“Those precepts to which you refer, Caelestia,” he said; “do you live by them, still? Have you not risked your entire world for the life of one child? Have you not risked it for the life of your sister? Would you not do so again?”

He hung his head.

“You are braver than I am, daughter,” and he looked up.

“Braver,” said Celestia, “but also more foolish.”

“Perhaps,” he said, “but the fact remains that your way is better. You found a way to save everyone, even those who were beyond salvation."

He raised his head, and pressed a hoof against the glass of the window, watching the five fillies outside with his jaw set tightly for a moment.

“Now,” he finally said, “I, too, have found a better way – not merely one that is good, but the one that is best. All of the broken world you have fought so hard to repair shall soon be absorbed into this one. There shall be no need of salvation; no need to ever choose between the few and the many. No one will ever have to bear any burden. No one will ever suffer the consequences of decisions that they are forced to make without knowing what the outcome could be.”

“Because they will have no choice,” said Celestia. “I cannot abide that.”

“That is not your decision to make,” said Sol.

Celestia ground her teeth, and pursed the corners of her mouth in a sneer so grim and tight that she felt the skin on the right side of her face split open once more.

“And why not, old stallion?" she spat through clenched jaws. “Do I not deserve the right to make it? Have I not earned at least that much, for all that I have paid?”

She stepped forward, and the bandage around her face glowed, and began to tear. In a moment, it fell into a damp, sticky pile on the floor. It was followed quickly by the others, until each and every one of her wounds was visible in all its glistening ugliness.

“Look at me,” she said.

“I have seen it in Twilight's memories,” he said, not turning his eyes from the window. “I do not need to look.”

“Please look at me, Father,” she said, her voice beginning to crack. Still he fixed his eyes on the false sun gleaming through the false window.

"Those wounds will be gone soon, Caelestia. There is no..."

“DADDY, LOOK AT ME!” she screamed through a sob, and her voice echoed through the chamber.

Twilight screeched in surprise at the outburst, and then again when she looked and saw Celestia's newly-revealed disfigurements.

Finally, the ghost of her father turned toward her, slowly.

As she finally came face-to-face with Sol, Celestia realized something that brought a shallow gasp into her lungs: his eyes were the same color as her own. In all her memories, they had shone gold, as they always had whenever he had unleashed the full breadth and depth of his power. Likewise in every other way, it seemed that his face was her own, but heftier and stronger, just as she remembered it. It was only his eyes that were not as she recalled. To realize that their memory had escaped her for so long broke her heart.

Tears streamed from both her living eye and the empty socket, one side gray with the running of her makeup, the other pink with her blood.

Sol did not speak. He faltered where he stood, and sank down slightly, still towering over her, so great was his height.

“I did not know that this would happen to me,” said Celestia, forcing the words out through her tears, “but I knew that it might – this and worse.”

He did not respond.

“Is that worth nothing to you?” she asked. “You say I am brave. Would you have a world where there was no use for courage?”

Still, he did not speak.

“That child there,” she said, indicating Twilight, “She is brave.” She gave a slight nod towards the window. “Her friends are brave.” She swallowed. “My sister is brave."

“Their very hearts are eaten alive by the cruelty of fate, and yet they persist. Even when they fall to despair, even when all their dreams lie in ruin, they strive onward. If you take that from them; if you make that courage meaningless, I will hate you forever.”

Now, he collapsed to his belly, and stared at the floor. After some time, he turned his head upward.

“How beautiful you are, Caelestia.” he said.

She took a step back, stunned at his words, and stared into those eyes that were so like her own. A tear rolled down the right side of her face to tickle at the corner of her mouth. Instinctively, she licked it away with the tip of her tongue. It tasted of iron and salt.

As she focused on that peculiar flavor of a single, blood-laced tear, the room itself wavered around her and twisted. Soon, it had faded into nothing. It had all been an illusion; an impossibly masterful illusion.

Celestia now stood in an enormous, gray chamber. Across it, in every direction, there shot innumerable thin, gray fibers, like wires. They were segmented, and each segment pulsed with tiny sparks where it joined the next.

Her father was now some distance above her, but he was not as he had been moments before. The sight of him filled her with pity and woe. For a moment, she even wished for the illusion's return, but it was too late. She had seen the truth of Sol's reincarnation, and it could not be unseen.

He had no legs, and his skin, bare of hair and fur, was drawn tight to his bones. His wings, featherless, were spread wide, and seemed to be grown into a wrinkled, ugly gray column that descended from the ceiling, suspending him from it. His torso was impossibly thin below his ribcage, as if there were no digestive organs in it at all, and his spine turned back at an impossible angle to fuse itself into the tip of the grotesque column, joining it where his pelvis should have been. An ugly mass of the weird, sparking fibers sprouted from the base of his skull, and wound up the strange column to spread out over the enormous chamber. He had neither eyes nor ears. There were only empty holes where they should have been. Indeed, it seemed that of all his body, only his horn was as it should be.

Around him were the six little ponies, appearing once more as adults now that the illusion was broken. They were suspended in bundles of the weird, gray fibers, their bodies mercifully whole and neither warped nor damaged in any way that Celestia could discern.

She watched as the fibers slowly loosened from each of the ponies, and even gently lowered them from high above where she stood to lay them on the floor at her hooves. The sparking strands then unraveled and withdrew, leaving no wounds or any other indication that they had ever been present, at all.

“Thank you, Daddy,” said Celestia. It was only a whisper, but she was certain that he had heard it. She stood there in silence, still weeping, and after a few moments, Sol spoke from where he hung high above her.

“Would, that I could give you my own eyes,” he said, his voice ragged and hoarse.

“You already did,” said Celestia, "And now you have, again. I had forgotten them, but now I remember.”

She looked up at him.

“I will always remember,” she said.

“So beautiful is my daughter, she who reigns over the sun, and who bears Heaven in her name.” He lowered his head.

“Do you believe in Heaven, Caelestia?”

“No,” she said quietly, shaking her head.

“Nor do I,” said the ghost-god, “but if we are wrong, I will tell your mother that you are still magnificent.”

His horn glowed, and in a flash, she stood on the roof of the Palace, the six unconscious ponies lying around her in a loose circle. Luna was there, and noticed her sister immediately.

“Celestia!” she shouted joyfully. “What happened!?”

Celestia sank to her belly. The exposed stump of her leg scraped across the crystal rooftop, and she cringed, but made no sound.

“There is too much to tell right now,” she said, "and I am... too weary."

Luna knelt beside her, and touched her face to the wounded side of Celestia's. It came away slightly moist with blood and tears.

Lyra Heartstrings, her son, and the three young mares all ran over to check on the six ponies, who were beginning to stir.

“Are y'all alright?” asked Applebloom. “Applejack?”

They all sat up, looking dazed.

“I'm fine,” said the orange mare. “What happened?”

“You don't remember?” asked Applebloom.

“Nothing,” said Applejack.

“Yeah,” said Pinkie Pie. “What happened?”

“Did it work?” asked Twilight Sparkle. “Did the Elements work?”

“Yes,” said Celestia, looking up at the strange orb in the sky. “Yes, they did.”

“Look at that thing,” said Rainbow Dash. “Gross.”

The others all looked upward. The orb was beginning rapidly to rot. All over, it turned greenish gray, and bits of it began to slough off. The stench of so much rotting flesh was so overpowering that it reached their nostrils even at so great a distance.

"I still have it," said Luna. "What should I do with it?”

“Let it go,” said Celestia.

Then, she shut her eye, lowered her face, and whispered, “It is dead.”

Luna gave the tiny world a mental push, and released it from her grasp. It descended lazily, drifting from over the city. They all watched as it continued to fall, pieces of it shedding away and disintegrating into dust. It plummeted faster and faster, and when it finally struck the ground, far out in the green fields of the Crystal Empire, it was so desiccated that it collapsed into an ashen, dusty pile.

“There,” said Luna, laying a hoof on her sister's shoulder.

Celestia only nodded weakly.

Author's Note

Yes, Celestia and Sol are actually speaking Latin. I didn't want to translate that much of it, and most people couldn't read it, anyway. So, I just wrote it in English.

Also, I did a little thinking on it, and I realized that Celestia would probably, in its most primitive form, be pronounced "Kaelestia." It comes from the Latin "caelum," meaning "sky" or "heaven." It would actually be spelled "Caelestia," since there was no "K" in classical Latin until the Romans took the letter Kappa from the Greeks. They only used it when writing Greek words in Latin, however, and the word "caelum" predates that. I chose to write it "Kaelestia" and to italicize it in its first iteration here to make it clear that it was being pronounced with a hard "C." Since Latin was an early written language that was developed phonetically, it is generally accepted that there was no soft "C" in classical Latin. It was probably added by the Catholic Church in the early middle ages.

I'm going to have to go back and edit "The Sun Eater," as I had Sol pronouncing it "Kelestia" in the first chapter of that one, and I think this is more accurate. I also just like it better this way.

I thought about a lot of names for this chapter, but I settled on "Iron and Salt" because that line is the single most visceral thing in the whole chapter to me. If you've ever lost a tooth or had a really good cry, (in other words, if you are human) you know what blood and tears taste like, and I like immediate, relatable sensations like that. It takes Celestia out of this place of distant, nigh-immortal goddess into this other place of "Oh yeah; she has feelings, doesn't she?"

Home

“He did not mention me, at all?” asked Luna.

She and her sister sat in Celestia's suite.

“He did,” said Celestia. “It seemed to grieve him that you had endured such hardship as you have.”

“I see,” said Luna.

“Leave it alone, Luna,” said Celestia. “Remember him as you always have.”

“I will try,” said Luna. “I can promise no more.”

“Nor can I,” said Celestia. “I will always wish that things had been different for him and for all of us.”

“That is the nature of fate, I suppose,” said Luna; “the nature of our world.”

“Our world,” said Celestia. “Hardly worth the trouble most days.”

“Hardly worth it most nights,” said Luna.

“But still worth it?” asked Celestia.

“Yes,” said Luna. “Still worth it.”

There were three short, sharp knocks from the door.

"Who could that be?" asked Celestia. "Come in!"

The door opened, and there stood Applejack.

"It's almost dawn," said Celestia. "What are you doing awake, Applejack?"

"My back wakes me up most days," she said. "Applebucking, you know?"

"Applejack, I have no idea," said Celestia.

She looked down curiously at the little pony. She had lived so little time, but her physical body was already older than Celestia's own. She allowed herself to wonder, briefly, if the orange mare might not have been happier in her father's illusion. Quickly, she cast the thought from her mind.

That wasn't the point, she reminded herself.

"Is there something you wanted?" Celestia asked.

"Kinda," said Applejack.

"Well, come in," said Luna. "No need to stand in the doorway."

Applejack stepped inside, and looked around.

"Nice room," she said.

"Perks," said Celestia.

"Yeah," said Applejack. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, and she seemed to be thinking. After awhile, she finally spoke.

"I hated you," she said, "for a long time."

"Join the club," said Luna.

Celestia sighed, and gave Luna a stern look. Luna only giggled.

The white horse looked back at Applejack.

"I knew," said Celestia. "I didn't really blame you."

"That don't make it right," said Applejack.

"What does?" asked Celestia.

"I guess I oughtta apologize," said Applejack. "I don't want no hugs or fake-ass smiles or nothing, but I am sorry."

"Good enough for me," said Celestia. "No hugs or smiles necessary." Then, she looked at Applejack curiously.

"You know, I'm sorry, too," she said. "I never realized it back then, but I let ponies other than just Twilight down, that day."

"Yeah?" said Applejack. "Well, we all managed somehow, and I'm the only one who ever held it against you, anyway."

"I know," said Celestia, "and I needed that. Twilight was just hurt, and the others were just confused. You were angry, though, and you never failed to let me see it. Do you know how valuable that was to me?"

Applejack shrugged.

"Well, it was," said Celestia, "but do me a favor, please."

"What's that?" asked Applejack.

"I think you've been angry long enough -- at me, yourself, and everything else. Try to find a little happiness for yourself. I don't care where or how, but try."

"Princess, I don't even remember happy."

"Don't worry," said Celestia. "It will find you. Just don't chase it away."

"Doesn't seem to come looking for me too often, these days," Applejack replied, "but if it does, I'll remember you said that."

She nodded at both Princesses, and left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Determined to carry it all on her own, that one," said Luna. "Do you think she'll take your advice?"

"I can't say," said Celestia, "but at least I gave it."

"Always guiding with a gentle hoof," laughed Luna, quietly. "It's such a good thing that you were born first. I'd have been lost, otherwise -- and so many others, besides."

"Do you really think so?" asked Celestia, warmly.

"Honestly," said Luna, and she nodded towards the door through which the earth pony had just left. "Completely honestly."

"Then I shall have to raise the sun," said Celestia, standing and stepping awkwardly to a window. "Today might just be worth the trouble."

She opened the window telekinetically, and shut her eye. The sun peered over the horizon.

"Worth an eye?" asked Luna, gently.

"Yes," said Celestia, "honestly."

She smiled into the orb that glowed so many millions of miles away, and then turned.

“Luna, could you go and get the doctor before you go to bed? I would... like some pain pills, I think.”

“And some sleep?” asked Luna, her voice stern but hopeful.

“Later,” said Celestia. “Today, I have business to attend to. There is one more ghost for us to lay to rest.”

***

They buried her in the Crystal Empire. Twilight had wanted to take her back to Canterlot or Ponyville, but ultimately she agreed with Celestia that it was best not to raise any unnecessary questions. It would be strange enough for her to show up in Ponyville again, at all, and with the news of the strange events in the north already making its way southward, coming off the train with a coffin would probably attract more attention than she wanted.

So, they buried the other Twilight in a cemetery, on a hill in view of the Crystal Palace. They gave her a funeral, of course, but only those few who knew of her strange entry into their world were in attendance. Twilight herself said a few words, but in truth, there was little to be said.

“She said she wanted to be me,” said Twilight. “I used to wonder if somewhere out there, there was another version of all of us; a version of each one of us who was happy. Now, I see that all that really ever made me happy was being with all of you, whatever version of yourselves you might happen to be.'

“The creature in this grave, whatever she was, can never go home, but I can. I will always be grateful to her for reminding me of that. I will always be grateful for her sacrifice. I will always be grateful that she watched over my best friend in the last days of his life.”

“As long as I have my own reflection, I will never forget her.”

With that, they departed, leaving her there beneath a peculiar headstone, unmarked with her name, and bearing a small, oval mirror made from a shard of the shattered magical portal. There was a short epitaph written around it, one line below and one line above its circumference.

AS I AM, SO ONCE WAS SHE
AS SHE IS, SO TOO SHALL I BE

Each year, Twilight Sparkle would return to that place, and sit for awhile in front of the grave, looking at her reflection. After awhile, she would recite the epitaph aloud. Then, she would smoke one cigarette from a fresh pack, and leave the rest on the grave. As she had promised, for all of her life, never did she forget.

***

Twilight Sparkle looked out the window of the train car as it pulled into the station, feeling an odd mix of joy, sadness, and nostalgia.

“This place never changes,” she said.

“Ponyville,” shrugged Rainbow Dash, but her face bore the same expression as that of the alicorn.

“You two are getting way too weird about this whole thing,” said Pinkie Pie.

They disembarked, and stretched out their limbs, each of them glad to be free of her seat. Applejack turned to the group.

“Headed home,” she said. “Got work to do.”

“Applejack!” shouted Applebloom, sternly.

“What!?” Applejack returned, tersely.

Applebloom sighed.

“You're hopeless, you know that?”

Applejack huffed.

“I can't just... quit being me, you know?”

“I know,” said Applebloom, glumly. “I just... I dunno.”

“Aw,” said Applejack. “Come here.”

She stepped to her sister, and gave her a hug. After a moment, she looked up. Every single pony was staring at them.

“I didn't know you could still do that,” said Pinkie Pie.

The others laughed.

Applejack scowled, and released her sister.

“Fuck you!” she shouted. “I can hug all you bitches!”

And she did, one by one. When she came at last to Twilight, she stopped, and looked her up and down.

“Gonna have to rear up a little on this one,” she said, and as she did so, her spine gave a sharp, single jar of pain. She ignored it, however, and took her old friend in an embrace.

After she had released Twilight from her grasp, she stepped back.

“I do need to go check on the farm, though,” she said. “I'll see y'all around.”

She turned and stepped down the stairs off the platform, her suitcases piled on her back, which, of course, ached.

“Goddamn back,” she said, rounding a corner. “Too many trees,” she said. “Too many years.”

As she moved through town, she heard in the distance the sound of somepony playing lap steel on a Dobro. As she drew near the town hall, she saw the source: a big, shaggy gray stallion. He was sitting upright on the steps, the Dobro on his lap, stomping a hoof on a box that lay on the ground below, and tapping on the instrument's resonator to keep in time. His cutie mark was the grille of a single cone resonator like the one on the instrument he was playing.

He looked to be about her age – perhaps a little older. He had tired, olive green eyes and a mane several shades darker than his coat.

She stopped to watch and listen, and he finished his song.

Since she was the only one listening, he nodded at her, but he did not speak.

“Sounds good,” she said. “My Daddy used to play the Dobro a little. Wasn't as good as you, though.”

“Ah, it's a dead instrument,” said the stallion. “Nopony wants to hear nothing but all this DJ, dubstep bullshit, these days.”

“Ah, don't say that,” she said. “It's still alive as long as you are, ain't it?”

He smiled, and gave her a “Reckon so.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Ah, I thought I'd try to make something out of myself with this thing,” he said, nodding down at the old, worn guitar that lay across his lap. “Went to Manehatten, Las Pegasus, Filly, and now Canterlot. I guess I mighta done okay, if I'da really wanted it, but them places are all too big. I like the woods and the fields, you know? Ain't right playing what I play living in a place like that. Something about it wouldn't be real, you know?”

He shrugged.

“Truth be told, I'm just stuck here on account of I can't pay for a train ticket. Trying to get home to Hayseed, but I can't even say why. Got nothing waiting on me back there; not even a job.”

“You want one?” she asked. “You look big enough to work.”

“I can work a little,” he said. “What's your trade?”

“Well,” she said, “there's three apples on my ass, but you can't see none of 'em up under all this fuck-ton of luggage hanging off my back.”

“Apples, huh? Sounds like plain, honest work.”

“Honest as it gets,” said Applejack. “What's your name?”

“Bittersweet Steel,” he said. “Folks call me Bitter.”

“That's pretty honest, too, from the look of it,” she said. “Apple.”

“Hah!”

“Applejack Apple, sure as I'm standing here before you.”

She extended her hoof for a hoofshake, and he took it.

“You know, you're kinda cute for a farm girl,” he said. “Most of 'em back home are ugly as hell.”

Applejack giggled.

Fuck, did I just giggle!?

“I can be ugly,” said Applejack, playfully.

No, girl; don't you do this.

“Bullshit and noise,” said the Stallion. “Bet you got you a big ol' handsome farmer for a husband.”

LIE, FOOL!.... Ah, fuck; that's a lost cause.

“Ain't got no such thing,” said Applejack. “I'm too damn mean for that shit, and too busy, besides.”

There you go; scare him off, said the voice in her head, pleased, but also disappointed.

“You ain't no meaner than this guitar,” said the Stallion. “Only girl I've had in a long time. Love her all you want, she don't love you back.”

Hell with it, she thought. He sounds about as broke down as I feel. Misery loves company, right?

“You said you were outta whiskey,” she said. “You wanna get a drink?”

“Oh, hells to the yeah,” he said.

***

Rarity stepped into Carousel Boutique. The mares she had running it in her absence had kept it in good order, from what she could see. Sweetie Belle followed her through the door.

“I miss this place,” said Sweetie.

“So do I,” said Rarity. “I'm thinking of getting a manager for my store in Canterlot, and just living here, again. I can design from anywhere, after all, and it's just a short train ride to check up on things.”

“If that's what you want,” said Sweetie Belle, “do it.”

Rarity shuddered, and dropped her bags.

“You okay?” asked Sweetie Belle.

“Just a little case of the shakes,” said Rarity, and she walked over to the old chaise lounge she had always kept in the lobby.

She lay down, and looked around.

“So many memories of this place,” she said. “And now a chance to make some more.”

She gave a quiet “Hmph,” and looked at her sister.

“Sweetie,” she said. “I have a question.”

“What is it?” asked the younger mare.

“Do you like what you do?” asked Rarity.

“Of course I do,” said Sweetie Belle.

“Well, promise me something,” said Rarity. “If you ever stop liking it, stop doing it. Or if you ever want to do it a different way, even if you don't think anypony else would like it, myself included, then do it.”

Sweetie Belle looked confused.

“Okay, sis,” she said.

“And could you do me a favor?” asked Rarity.

“Sure.”

“Go upstairs to the medicine cabinet in my bathroom...”

“RARITY!”

“And flush everything in it down the toilet.”

Sweetie Belle gave her a relieved smile.

“Sure thing,” she said.

***

“You really wanna try this?” asked Scootaloo. “If you pass out again, there's nopony to catch you.”

“Gotta know, Scoot,” said Rainbow Dash. They stood on a hill outside Ponyville, near where Rainbow Dash's old house had been. Without her there to maintain it, the clouds that comprised it had drifted apart, and it now hung loosely in pieces over an acre of ground.

“Go to the academy, and get some spotters or something,” said Scootaloo.

“Can't” said the blue pegasus. “I'm not even technically supposed to try this, right now; doctor's orders.”

“Then why are you doing it?” asked Scootaloo.

“Because I'm a dumbass,” said Rainbow Dash.

"No argument here," said Scootaloo.

Rainbow Dash stripped off her dress uniform, and dropped it to the ground.

“Wow,” she said. “I haven't tried this bareback in years.”

“You'll get in trouble,” said Scootaloo. “If anypony sees, they'll know who did it.”

“Exactly,” said Rainbow Dash.

She stretched out her wings, tensing and untensing the muscles to loosen them and warm them up.

“You know who I am, Scoot?” she asked.

“Rainbow Dash,” said Scootaloo.

“Rainbow Motherfucking Dash,” said the blue pegasus, grinning like a lunatic, “and that's all I wanna be, right now. No uniforms, no screaming crowds. I just wanna fly. Let them kick me out; they'll always know I was the best.”

“The best there ever was,” Scootaloo half-whispered.

“Damn straight,” said Rainbow Dash.

"Don't die," said Scootaloo. "I don't want to have to explain this."

"Ah, you'll think of something," said Rainbow Dash, and she leapt skyward.

For a moment, she started into her usual warmup routine by making a pair of short, quick loops, but at the bottom of the second, she stopped and hovered, looking towards where Cloudsdale floated in the distance.

“Hell with it,” she said, and she sliced into the sky with her wings as hard as she possibly could.

There would be no warmup, no time to hesitate, and no second thoughts.

She gritted her teeth, and screamed through them in wild rage.

“Rainbow Motherfucking DASH!”

She aimed herself at Cloudsdale's distant, nebulous image and attacked the sky around herself with the powerful, honed muscles of her wings. As she accelerated, her head swam, and slowly but surely, she became positive she would lose consciousness. At this speed, it would almost certainly be the end of her, but still she slaughtered the air around her body. Her vision blurred, but still she rocketed herself forward with all her might.

Then, her stomach cramped severely, and a jolt of pain shot through her skull. Tiny explosions seemed to burst forth in her field of view, and the world itself became hazy and vague to her sight.

“This is insane,” she mumbled. “Why am I doing this?"

“Why did you want to do it in the first place?” asked Rarity's voice, echoing in her mind.

“I don't know, anymore! Why does anypony even care!?"

“Maybe that idea is important to them,” said the echo.

"Who is this goddamned 'them,' anyway!?" she growled. "Buncha ponies that don't even know me!?"

I can't even fucking see straight. They'll dig me out of a pony-shaped crater -- No; scrub me out with a toothbrush. Then, they'll make up some bullshit story about a downdraft or some other bullshit, and they'll cover up the medical records so I stay a good recruitment tool. Nopony will ever know. What's the goddamn point in this, anymore? I don't have anything left to prove. Who even gives a fuck?

She slowed, and came to a hover.

"This was a dumb idea," she said. "I had my run. There's always another hero. Who needs Rainbow Dash? Who needed Spitfire or anypony else? They're all just names to them. Just names signed on the side of cheap, mass-produced toys."

That thought brought another voice into her mind.

“I'll practice real hard!” it said.

What had his name been?

“Silvergale,” she said to herself. She had signed that cheap, mass-produced toy for him only because Spitfire had once signed her own. There would always be more heroes, but she was his hero.

“Fuck you, head,” she snarled.

She roared at the top of her lungs, and thrust herself forward again through the sky.

As she accelerated, her head began to throb once more, and she could hear her own blood pounding in her ears.

"I'm worried that even the milder forces associated with normal aerobatics could become dangerous for you."

"Fuck you, doctor, and fuck you, too, Wonderbolts! I don't belong to you!"

What gave a doctor -- what gave the Wonderbolts -- the right to decide whether she should or should not fly, especially here, in the silence of the sky above these hills where she'd so often practiced in her youth? How many times, on chilly afternoons like this one, had she cut loops and rolls through the clouds? How many times had she lost control for a moment? How many times had she almost died?

"I don't belong to you!"

She hadn't cared then. Nopony had owned her. Nopony had even known her name.

Except them, she thought, glancing toward Ponyville in the distance.

They had always known.

"I don't belong to you!"

She turned her eyes back to Cloudsdale, and she glared as its image shook and rolled in her sight. All around her a familiar turbulence was building, shaking her whole body in rhythmic pulses that rattled her bones.

"I don't belong to YOU!"

Then who? To me? What's the point? To them? Who are they? My friends? Why them? Do they want me? Why would they? Who am I? Rainbow Dash? Who is that? What's that even mean!?

"It's just a fucking name on a toy!"

As her wings burned and her head throbbed, one last echo from what seemed a lifetime ago sounded from somewhere within her memory. Again it was the voice of a foal -- this one a filly.

“Is it okay if I still wanna be like you?” asked the little, orange pegasus, who could not even fly. "Please?"

"FUCK YOU, RAINBOW DASH!"

Boom.

***

Fluttershy and Twilight Sparkle walked towards the little cottage at the edge of the Everfree Forest. They were so focused on their task that neither one paid any mind to a low rumble, like thunder, that echoed from some distance away in the western sky. Twilight couldn't help but notice that the forest had gotten closer to the cottage, over the years. She was also depressed to see the animal enclosures empty, and in a sad state of disrepair.

Hopefully, that would change, soon.

“We can send the police,” said Twilight. “Or I can just go for you. He won't come back, I promise. I won't hurt him, either... Well, if you don't want me to, that is.”

“No,” said Fluttershy. “I have to do this, myself.”

“If you say so,” said Twilight, and she lit a cigarette.

“I'm right here, if you need me.”

“Thank you, Twilight,” said Fluttershy.

They approached the door slowly.

Fluttershy took a deep breath, and opened it.

Then, she screamed.

“Oh, gods,” said Twilight.

A dead pegasus stallion hung from one of the rafters by a noose. He swayed slowly in a sudden breeze that blew in through the open door.

They both stood there, unable to remove their eyes from the morbid, terrible sight for several seconds. Finally, Fluttershy began to hyperventilate. Twilight quickly wrapped a wing around her, and guided her outside.

She continued to breathe heavily, and Twilight held her close and tight.

“It's okay,” she said, gently.

“No, it's not,” Fluttershy nearly screamed. “He's fucking dead!”

“I know,” said Twilight. “I know, Fluttershy.”

“He's fucking dead because of me,” said Fluttershy, sobbing raggedly.

“Don't say that,” said Twilight.

“Fuck you, Twilight.” Fluttershy broke down, and began to wail in wretched grief.

Twilight sighed, and held her tight.

“Let go of me,” said the pegasus.

“Fluttershy,” said Twilight, harshly “shut the fuck up, and cry!”

And she did -- loudly.

***

The next night, Pinkie Pie threw a party for all her friends. In light of what they had all been through, she had chosen to keep it small – friends and family, only. The first guest to arrive was Rainbow Dash, Scootaloo in tow.

As she stepped through the door, she beamed at Pinkie.

“You know how I never drink?” she asked.

“Only during cider season,” said Pinkie.

“Tonight I do, cider season or not” she said. “I got something to celebrate.”

“Well... alright,” said Pinkie, totally confused. “Beer's in the fridge.”

Rainbow Dash walked off, leaving Scootaloo behind.

“What's with her?” asked Pinkie Pie.

“I'll let her tell you, herself,” said Scootaloo, grinning.

Pinkie shrugged, and walked back towards the kitchen, passing Rainbow Dash, who still seemed bizarrely elated, on her way. She continued going about her preparations, one of which involved the removal of a huge birthday cake from the oven, emblazoned with Twilight Sparkle's face. According to standard Pinkamena Dianne Pie procedure, it came out fully frosted and decorated, including a number of candles adjusted for all the birthdays the alicorn had missed in her years of absence. It wasn't Twilight Sparkle's Birthday, of course, but she felt obligated to make up for lost time.

"Not a bad piece of work," she said, giving the cake a satisfied look.

Most work I've done this whole time, she thought.

In the end, though, Pinkie didn't really care. Her friends were all going to be home again. They were going to be themselves again. She could be who she was, again. That was all she had ever really wanted.

It did not strike her for a moment what she had meant to each of them during those years or even the last few days, and it never would, even to her dying day. She was not and had never been that kind of mare. She never would be.

As she stood there, admiring the cake she had made, she felt a tug from her rump, and turned to see her Twilight, who had, along with her brothers, arrived back from her grandparents' earlier that day. She had a bundle of her mommy's tail clutched in her teeth, and was looking up at her with wide eyes.

"What is it, Twi?" she asked raising an eyebrow.

"Somepony's at the door," said her daughter.

"Oh!" she said, and she started out of the kitchen.

Again, she felt a tug.

"You said a Princess was gonna be here, right?" asked the diminutive unicorn.

"She'll be here," smiled Pinkie. "Just be patient. She's not hard to spot."

"Okay," said Twilight.

"Go play with your brothers," said Pinkie Pie, and she shooed her daughter out of the kitchen.

The knock at the door had been Rarity, accompanied by Fluttershy, and after giving the pegasus a long, long hug and offering her cheerful greetings, Pinkie left them alone at the dining table. She had of course heard of what had happened at Fluttershy's cottage, and this was one matter where she had the sense to know she just didn't have the words. It took more than cupcakes, songs, or even a little dance with Mary Jane to make a thing like that go away. At least Fluttershy's stitch had been removed, and the regrowth of her fur and eyebrows, assisted by a spell from one of the unicorns at the hospital, had hidden the scar from sight.

Twilight had promised to be there, but she had been busy taking care of Fluttershy all night before. Moreover, she was moving back into the Library, and it had her distracted enough that Pinkie was unsurprised when she didn't show up right away.

Most happily for Pinkie herself, her foals, Twilight included, seemed happy, playing with all of their usual associates but one -- Shimmershine Heartstrings sat alone, in the corner.

His mother, who had been there for over an hour, stepped quietly to Pinkie's side, watching her son the whole way.

“He's been like that ever since we got back,” said Lyra.

“Want me to talk to him?” asked Pinkie Pie.

“No,” said Lyra, “I think I should.”

She walked over to her son alone, and looked down at him.

“Not gonna play with the others?” she asked.

“I'm not like them,” he said. “I don't even know if I can play, anymore.”

“Try it,” said Lyra. “You don't have to tell them anything at all about who you are or where you came from.”

“It won't make me the same again, even if I don't tell them.”

“Listen to me, Shim," said Lyra. "No matter how old you really are, or what you used to be, you still don't really know that much about how to be you, yet – or about how to be a pony. I'm still going to help you figure that out, no matter what, and right now, I can tell you for sure that a nine year old pony would be playing with his friends.”

“Yeah,” said Shimmershine, “he would, wouldn't he?”

He gave his mother a hug, and walked slowly towards the other foals.

Lyra watched him for a moment, then walked back to Pinkie Pie.

“What'd you do?” asked the pink mare.

“Asked myself what you would do,” said Lyra. “I couldn't figure that out, though. So, I just said whatever came to mind.”

“Hey, you did exactly what I would do!” said Pinkie Pie.

Lyra shook her head.

“Probably not," she mumbled.

“Ah, it doesn't matter,” said Pinkie Pie.

Now, there came a clamor from the doorway, and the entire Apple clan entered, Big Macintosh and Cheerilee included, along with their two foals, who ran to join the others at their games. There was also another pony that Pinkie Pie didn't recognize, a big, gray stallion carrying a guitar case.

She walked over to greet Applejack.

“Hiya!” she said.

“Howdy,” said Applejack.

“Did you bring the entertainment?” asked Pinkie Pie.

“Him?” asked Applejack, indicating the big gray stallion. “That's just some fella that might be doing some work around the farm for awhile. I told him it was a party, so he grabbed that thing, and brought it along.”

She indicated the guitar case.

“You've never needed help at the farm before,” said Pinkie.

“Well, maybe I changed my mind,” said Applejack, and Pinkie noticed that, for some reason, she was blushing.

“Uh-huh,” said Pinkie Pie, grinning. “I see.”

Now, at last, Twilight Sparkle stepped through the door. She appeared exhausted and slightly confused, but what crossed her face mostly was disbelief. She seemed to Pinkie Pie to be lost in some other world where this version of reality could not possibly exist. Still, though, she walked over to where Applejack and Pinkie were standing, and spoke.

“Nice place, Pinkie,” she said. “Very homey.”

“What else would it be?” asked Pinkie. “It's home.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” said Twilight, happily. “Um, where's Fluttershy? I haven't seen her since this morning.”

Pinkie's face became a little downcast, and she pointed a hoof. Fluttershy was still sitting with Rarity.

“I'll go talk to her,” said Twilight, and she stepped that way.

“Hey, Fluttershy,” she said. “Good to see you looking a little more like yourself.”

“I don't feel like myself,” said Fluttershy.

“Well, that's normal,” said Twilight. “If this didn't fuck with your head at least a little, I'd be disappointed in you. Are you going to be alright?”

“I think so, actually,” she said. “I realized something this morning, a little while after you left the house.”

“What was that?” asked Twilight.

“This is the last thing he can ever do to me; if I survive this, then I'm really, finally free.”

“Are you going to keep your house?” asked Twilight.

The pegasus had mentioned selling it and moving into Ponyville proper, just to get away from the memories.

“Yeah,” said Fluttershy. “I'll rearrange the furniture; maybe put a new coat of paint up. Then it won't remind me of everything so much. I want to open the animal shelter again, and I have everything I need right where I am.”

“That's great,” said Twilight, smiling. She turned to the white unicorn.

“And how are you, Rarity?”

“I am going out of my goddamned mind, and I keep wanting to go hunt down a drug dealer, so I can get fucked up.” said Rarity.

Twilight batted her eyes, unsurprised but still taken aback.

“So, I just keep drawing dresses every time I get that feeling,” Rarity said quickly. “It helps get my mind off of it. Every single one of them I draw looks like somepony made it by skinning Queen Chrysalis alive, but I like it, for some reason. I'm going to turn it into a concept collection, and release it in time for the Nightmare Night Ball in Canterlot.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Twilight.

As she turned around, she was surprised to see a tiny, pink unicorn staring up at her with huge, blue eyes.

“Well, hello,” said the alicorn, cheerfully.

The foal didn't respond, but stared up at her, seeming slightly afraid.

Twilight noticed Pinkie Pie watching from across the room. She was giggling beneath her breath, stifling her laughter as best she could. It was such a hard thing for the pink mare to do that she was actually in tears. Now Twilight realized to whom she was speaking.

“I bet your name is Twilight, isn't it?” she asked the little filly.

“You know my name?” asked the child, obviously stunned.

“Your mom told me she named you after me,” said Twilight.

“You're Twilight Sparkle,” said the filly.

“Yeah, that's me,” she said.

“You're a Princess?” The little pony's eyes widened in anticipation, and she blinked a couple of times.

Twilight Sparkle almost said “No,” but she stopped herself.

The filly was staring up at her with a strange sort of awe and wonder that Twilight couldn't quite place. Then, she remembered a day long ago, when she had first seen Princess Celestia raise the sun. She realized that this little, pink Twilight's face must look, in this moment, exactly as had her own in that one.

She smiled at the little pony, and nodded.

“Yes, Twilight,” she said, "I most certainly am."

Author's Note

If you can read this chapter and not finally understand what this book is about and why it was so miserable for so long, I really don't know what else to tell you.

Voices in the Void

It was an ugly place, the old monastery. It jutted from the side of an ancient crag in the Unicorn Mountain Range, and in its silhouette, the arrangement of its square, stone towers made it seem like some haggard parody of Canterlot. Indeed, in many ways, it was.

For it had been in Canterlot that Twilight Sparkle had spent the bulk of her youth, isolated and buried, by her own choice, in her mind. Such was the case here, also, but those years in Canterlot had been years of hope and aspiration. Her confinement here, also of her own design, was chosen out of despair and regret.

There had been a place and time between that era of her life and this one where Twilight Sparkle had been truly happy, even in spite of peril and tribulation. She had not been alone, then. She had been in the company of those who had known her best, who had understood her strengths, and who had been able to cover over her weaknesses.

Those days were long gone.

It was these things that Princess Mi Amore Cadenza reflected upon as she descended slowly from a sky as gray as the monastery beneath her outstretched wings. She wondered briefly where she would set down her hooves, but her eyes quickly found a balcony that extended outward from the tallest central tower of the time-worn edifice.

Most likely how Twi gets in and out, herself, she thought, if she ever comes out.

She sighed amidst her slow, downward glide, and finally brought herself to lite on the balcony.

There was not so much as a single piece of furniture there – not a deck chair or even a table with a potted plant. It was barren and empty. There was, however, a door to the tower's interior.

With no better plan of action offering itself, she simply knocked on the old, oaken door.

No answer came, and after the full duration of a minute had passed, she knocked again, more loudly.

“If she won't answer,” said the alicorn, speaking aloud to herself, “then I'll just have to let myself in.”

Her horn glimmered for a moment, and to her surprise, the door opened easily. It had not even been locked. She heard a dull clamor from just inside, and hoped that she hadn't accidentally damaged something. It would have been a bad way to begin a visit so long in coming.

“Not even locked?” she mumbled. “I would have thought Twi would be better than this at the whole hermit... thing.”

She stepped inside, and was not the least surprised at what she found: books. It was difficult to discern much about the room itself, for on every table and shelf, on the floor, and of course on all of the many bookshelves, they were stacked, seemingly dozens deep, in some places. There was a bed in which they made it impossible to sleep, a desk upon which they made it impossible to write, and at the opposite end of the room, a door which they made it impossible to close. Indeed, a cursory examination revealed that the sound she had heard upon opening the balcony door had been a large stack of books toppling at its touch.

“Twilight!” she shouted. “Where could she be?”

She wove her way forward through the piles and stacks of ancient volumes, and finally reached the other door. In the hallway, there were still a few more stacks of books near the open door, but otherwise, it was clear.

It was also bleak. There were no paintings on the walls, and no ornamentation of any kind. Everything was cold, angular, and gray. The monastery was exactly as it had been hundreds of years ago, when ponies had come here seeking solitude of heart and mind. It was only appropriate that Twilight would leave it this way.

“Twilight Sparkle!” she shouted, louder than before. “I'm coming to find you!”

“Gods,” she almost laughed. “How many years since I've said those words in that tone of voice?”

Her alicorn blood, thin though it was, had kept her from changing too drastically with the passing of those years, but she still felt the weight of their distance as she reflected on them.

“Well,” she said, “Hide and Seek: Grown-Up Edition.”

She grinned for a moment.

“Ready or not, here I come!”

Several minutes later, after having searched many halls and several floors, she began to worry that Twilight may not live here, anymore.

“It would explain the unlocked door, and...”

It was then that she noticed a light from an open door at the end of the hall. It was faint, but still apparent in the dim corridor. She approached it quietly, her heart filled with fear and hope.

How often in her life had those two emotions been so deeply intertwined?

As she came to the door, she peeked in. Predictably, it appeared to be a library, and stunningly, the enormous number of books in the bedroom upstairs was only a tiny fraction of the number which it must have contained. It was not nearly so large as the Canterlot Archives, but still immense enough that even the lifespan of a lesser alicorn like Twilight or herself would never permit the reading of them all.

It was exactly why Twilight had chosen this place.

The light that had drawn her attention came from a large fireplace. Like the rest of the building, it was plain, gray stone, with an oaken mantle, devoid of all adornment, save for a clock, which in some cruel jeer of chance had been designed with a motif of the sun and moon. The flame within the hearth below burned only weakly, but it was bright enough to reveal the backside of a sofa which had been placed in front of it. A wing the color of clouds at sunset draped over its back, and here, at last, Cadance was certain she had found her quarry.

She walked in quietly, unsure of how to make Twilight aware of her presence.

I shouldn't sneak up on her, she thought. If she doesn't know it's me, she might freak out. She gave it another moment's thought. And if she freaks out, she might blast me to hell; gods know she's got the firepower.

“Twilight?” she said, only slightly louder than a whisper. “It's me, Cadance.”

There was no reply.

She stepped forward again, and spoke a little more loudly.

“Twi?”

Again, she moved forward, and this time, she spoke plainly.

“Twilight Sparkle.”

Now, the protective instinct she had always felt for her little sister woke up, and demanded action.

“Twi, are you okay?” She raised her pace to a nervous trot, and rounded the couch quickly.

She stopped, and sighed in relief.

Twilight Sparkle lay on her side, her head on a small pillow. There was a book lying face-down and open on the floor in front of her. Her only visible sign of life was the slow, regular breathing of a deep, deep sleep. What Cadance at first took to be a navy-colored blanket she quickly realized to be the mare's own mane and tail, grown long in the period of her isolation. The hot purple and pink stripe that shot through them naturally appeared dull and faded for their long lack of any sort of treatment to bring out their color. At the very least, her hair, too long or not, appeared clean and was not matted, which told Cadance that she was at least tending to her own basic hygiene. That was a relief, given that it probably meant she was still sound of mind despite her long isolation.

She was too thin. To have lived so long here, she must have found some way to grow food for herself, but she was no earth pony, and without their particular kind of magic, the ground gave up its bounty only sparingly. It hurt Cadance to see her so emaciated.

These were details, however. Mostly, it was the whole picture that struck her: Little Twilie had fallen asleep over an unfinished book, again. Once upon a time, she'd have carried her up to her room and put her to bed. As it was, however, it was enough to see that she was alive and more-or-less well.

After a few moments, she gathered the courage to reach forward and touch Twilight on the shoulder. The purple alicorn stirred, but did not awaken.

“Twilight,” she said, shaking her slightly.

Now, Twilight's eyes cracked open, and she gave a slight moan.

“Hi,” said Cadance, quietly. Her voice cracked at even that one syllable, and her eyes began to well.

Twilight lifted her head, and only the very faintest beginnings of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“Sunshine, sunshine,” she said dourly, and she let her head drop back to the pillow. “Ladybugs can go to hell.”

Cadance dove onto Twilight like a fox onto a rabbit, wrapping her up tight in her forelegs.

“I found you!” She half sobbed, half-laughed. “I found my sister!”

“Go ahead and make a big deal out of it, then,” said Twilight, but she did not try to push Cadance off of herself.

After most of a minute, Cadance finally pulled away.

“Who sent you?” asked Twilight, sitting upright. “Princess Celestia?”

“Sort of,” said Cadance. “She asked me to come. She didn't know what you would do if she came, herself.”

“So, she found me, huh?”

“Tome found you. You left your library card at the front desk eight years ago, and he kept it as a memento. He ran across it in his desk last month, and he got curious about the last few books you'd checked out. When he went back and read them... Well, that's how we found out about this place.”

“Tome... That old codger's still alive?” asked Twilight.

“Of course,” said Cadance. “He finished writing that book he was working on. He refuses to die until you've read it.”

“He's got wings,” said Twilight. “Tell him to bring me a copy.”

“I'll do no such thing,” said Cadance. “I'm here to bring you home.”

“I'm not going back to Canterlot,” said Twilight. “And I'm certainly not going back to Ponyville.” She hung her head. “There are too many ponies in both those towns that I can't look in the eye, and a couple of horses, to boot. Too many memories.”

“Those ponies are your friends, and those memories are all good, even... No, especially the ones of Spike.”

“Not the last one,” said Twilight.

“Don't do that,” said Cadance.

Twilight's jaw clenched for a moment, then slowly relaxed.

“I fucked up, Cadance,” she said, and her words were crushingly bitter, though her voice did not crack in the least.

“So, what? Everypony fucks up. Please, just come home.”

“I fucked up everything for everypony, everywhere,” said Twilight, “and we don't even know how badly, yet, and when we do find out, it will be in the worst possible way. I let everypony down worse than anypony has ever let anypony else down before, or ever will, again."

She shook her head.

I can't go home,” she said, and she cleared her throat. "Ever."

“Then come to my home,” said Cadance. “Will you come live with me and Shining Armor? I'm not judging you, and neither will he – you know that. Nopony in the Crystal City knows you as anything except Princess...”

“Stop,” said Twilight, sharply.

“Except as Twilight Sparkle, then.” Cadance paused for a moment. “I'll forbid anypony to call you Pr... To call you that, if you'll just come home.”

“Oh, really?” asked Twilight, forcing as much sarcasm into her words she could. “You'd do that for me? An oppressive edict barring free speech just on my account? I'm honored.”

Cadance sighed. “Look, I know where you live. You will never be rid of me, now.”

“Damn it all to hell,” said Twilight, dropping back onto her pillow. “Fine.”

***

“We are coming,” said the voices in the void.

“Who are you?” asked the voice of a child.

“We are they whom you have wronged, and now, we shall repay,” they said again, seeming to reverberate from everywhere within the impenetrable blackness.

“But I haven't done anything to anypony!” came the pleading response.

“That you do not remember it is, in itself, another grievous offense.”

Shimmershine bolted upright in his bed. His heart was pounding. It did this every time he had one of these nightmares. It wasn't that it beat faster. If anything, it was slower, but it was also harder, somehow, as if it was trying to burst from his chest with every pulse.

His whole coat was soaked with cold sweat. He played with the idea of just trying to go back to sleep, but he knew it would be useless. The dreams he had been having for the past several weeks were like no others he could recall in his nine short years. There were no images; only feelings, and those feelings were all of darkness, emptiness, shame, and regret. Furthermore, they were enormous in their scope, well beyond anything he had ever felt in his entire life.

Only in the last week had the voices come.

Shimmershine rolled out of bed, and stumbled into the bedroom across the hall from his own. There, his mother lay asleep. He approached the bed, and shook her shoulder. She woke suddenly, obviously startled from a dream of her own. In a moment, she perceived the situation, and spoke.

“What is it, Shim?” asked Lyra Heartstrings. “Have another one of those dreams?”

“Uh-huh,” he replied.

“It's okay, big guy,” she mumbled, still laying on her side. “I've been having some bad ones, too.”

“I'm sorry,” said the colt.

“What for?” asked his mother, through a giggle.

“I dunno,” he said. “I kinda get this weird feeling like it's my fault, or something.”

“Shim, that's silly.”

“Guess so,” he said, trying his best to smile.

“You want me to come sing you a lullaby?” asked the unicorn.

“I'm too old for that,” he said, bashfully.

“Then how about I just play you something soft, until you get back to sleep?”

“Mmmkay,” he mumbled, and headed back towards his bedroom.

“Gonna ruin him, at this rate,” said Lyra, quietly. “My parents would have made me go back to bed by myself.” She shook her head, and sighed.

Well, your parents did a shitty job, anyway, she thought. You're a gay single mother, broke-as-hell professional musician obsessed with a fantasy world full of creatures that don't exist. Now, go put your son to bed.

Without a further thought, she took her lyre from its case beside her bed, and headed for her son's room.

***

It was the pain that woke her, each morning. Once upon a time, it had been the rooster's crow, but these days, it was always the pain. It was at its worst in her hips and shoulders, but every vertebra in her back seemed to ache, from time to time.

Today, it seemed her whole body was presenting a united front.

“Gonna be one-a them days.”

Applejack gritted her teeth, and rolled over. She lowered herself gently out of bed, and stretched out as best as she could, drawing air through her teeth in a series of short, harsh hisses. Her joints crackled and popped.

She stumbled into the hallway, and blundered down the stairs, her hooves landing heavily, and echoing loudly. She had no reason to be quiet. She had lived alone for most of a year, now.

“Glad harvest is finally over,” she said.

She stopped by a bottle of Old Grandad she had left sitting on the counter the night before. She looked at it, then rolled her eyes, and sighed.

“I know better than this,” she said, “but I'm-a doing it, anyway.” She unscrewed the cap, and pulled a glass from the cabinet above. She poured herself a little of the whiskey, and shot it.

“Whiskey before breakfast,” said Applejack. “Granny Smith woulda had my ass.”

She stepped to the refrigerator. Pulling open the door, she found it distressingly barren. A quick perusal of her pantry showed that she was, indeed, completely out of anything edible – even apples. She had not bothered to bring any in from the cellar, yesterday.

“Hell of a day to be me,” she grumbled. “Back before Applebloom took off, I'da never let this happen.”

She sighed. It was still strange for the old homestead to be so empty. Big Macintosh had his own family, and at Cheerilee's behest, had built a separate house elsewhere on the property. Granny Smith had passed away five years prior, a victim of old age, dementia, and finally a stroke. Those were matters over which she had no real control.

Applebloom, however, was largely Applejack's own fault. True, she hadn't meant to drive her sister away. At some point, though, honesty had crossed into bluntness, and from there, into criticism. From criticism, it had crossed into outright meanness.

It was a hazy memory. Too many of her memories of the last several years were hazy, run together in a flood of too much work and too much whiskey. She couldn't even recall the argument they'd had, what had caused it, or the details of the brawl they'd gotten into afterward, but Applejack remembered the last thing she had ever said to her sister.

“If you're such a hardass, grown mare that you can take a swing at your big sis, then I guess you'll do fine on your own. Get gone, and don't come back.”

Applebloom had done just that, and now, Applejack was alone.

More and more, it seemed to the Earth Mare that it might have been a good idea to have spent a little more time looking for someone with whom to spend her life. The ugly truth, however, was that she felt it was too late for that, now. She was set in her ways, and she was more mare than any stallion in Ponyville could handle. She was beginning to understand that this isolation had always been her destiny, an inevitability born of her very nature.

Her brother had turned out well enough, and Applebloom had shown more and more promise as time had gone on. It was only Applejack herself who had failed to adjust, somehow. She was a workaholic and an alcoholic, and hell-bent on proving her worth to an audience that wasn't even paying attention, anymore.

“What was it Twilight used to call it?” she asked herself, as she grabbed her hat from a peg on the wall. “Middle Child Syndrome.”

She stepped outside, turned, and pulled the door shut. She couldn't help noticing that it needed a new coat of paint. She huffed, and shook her head.

“Weird that I'd think of Twi, today,” she gave a harsh, single chuckle, tinged with bitter melancholy. “Gotta go get something to eat, or I won't get jack shit done the whole damn day.”

The orange pony bumbled into town just as the sun had fully cleared the horizon and the shops were beginning to open. She would have to visit the hardware store for paint and fresh brushes, but her first stop would be Sugar Cube Corner. She needed a cup of coffee and a bowl of Pinkie's Wake-Me-Up Oatmeal. Applejack wasn't completely sure what Pinkie put in the stuff, but it always seemed to clear her head on mornings like these.

She stepped through the door of the bakery, and reflexively dove behind a table, kicking it over to shield herself from a hail of rubber darts that flew from seemingly every nook and cranny.

“You miss every time, Pumpkin.” Applejack heard a tiny voice say. “You suck.”

“Uh-uh, you suck!” said another voice in reply.

“What the hell!?” came Pinkie's high-pitched voice from somewhere in the kitchen.

Applejack peaked over the edge of the table, and saw her attackers: Six foals of various ages. The two oldest were the Cake Twins, Pound and Pumpkin. Three of the other four were Pinkie's children, and between them, every race of pony was represented, owing to Pinkie Pie's three failed marriages. It was, in fact, her inability to maintain a steady marriage that accounted for the necessity of her bringing her foals to work with her on weekends. There was no father at home to watch them, and there had not been for most of their lives. Each of them had watched boyfriends and “new daddies” come and go to the point that they took little note of who their mother happened to be dating at the time.

The remaining foal, a colt, was Shimmershine Heartstrings, adoptive son of Lyra Heartstrings.

“Seriously!?” shouted Pinkie, storming into the lobby. “What is wrong with all of you? You're gonna scare away the customers!”

“But it's Miss Apple,” said Pumpkin Cake, a plastic dart gun levitating in the air beside her. “She's the only grown-up that's any good at this game. Anypony else woulda been dead meat, already.”

Out of nowhere, a rubber dart pegged the unicorn filly right beside her horn, and stuck there. Applejack turned her head to see Pinkie now wielding what appeared to be a rubber dart Gatling gun.

“Anypony else, huh?” said Pinkie, giving the foals a wicked grin. “Well, that's one of you down.”

They all dashed for the door, piling over one another, and squealing in cold fear of the inevitable storm of suction cup doom to come. It was all in vain. As they burst through the door, there – somehow – stood Pinkie Pie.

CHIGGACHIGGACHIGGACHIGGACHIGGACHIGGACHIGGA.

Pinkie returned inside, dropping her empty weapon and all six of its smoking, plastic barrels beside the door. Applejack caught a brief glimpse of the scene outside through the swinging door. The foals looked like a half dozen rubber-quilled porcupines, staring off into the distance in mild shock.

“I may be getting old and fat,” said Pinkie, “but I've still got it.”

“Pinkie,” said Applejack, “You're thirty-one, and I already told you the scale in your bathroom's stuck at seven hundred pounds from where Big Mac fell on it at the Hearth's Warming party. Hell, I'm only weighing in around five-fifty, and you ain't even as big as me.”

“Oh yeah,” said Pinkie, then she smiled. “In that case, I'm still lethal and sexy!”

“There we go,” said the orange earth pony. “Now get me some oatmeal, and see if you can snag a break.”

Since there were no other customers, Pinkie was able to comply with both of Applejack's requests.

“See you're staying busy,” said Applejack, as the pair sat at a table by a window, watching the scene outside.

The foals had pried the darts off their bodies, and were now having an argument over who should play Queen Chrysalis in some epic battle they were planning to orchestrate.

“I'm always busy,” said Pinkie Pie. “Lots to do around here, and then you should see my house. They keep it wrecked all the time,” she said, nodding towards the foals, who had by now decided, in accordance with some backwards logic, that since Queen Chrysalis was a changeling, they could all be her at the same time.

“Nothing you can't handle, I'm sure,” said Applejack.

“Nah,” sighed Pinkie Pie, “I guess not.” She shuddered, slightly.

“What was that about?” asked Applejack.

“Dunno,” said Pinkie. “Been getting this weird, shivery feeling all morning.”

“Gonna be a big day, I guess,” said Applejack.

“Maybe,” replied Pinkie. “So how's life on the farm?”

“Sucks,” said Applejack, cheerfully.

Pinkie gave a half-hearted giggle.

“Well, how are Big Mac and Cheerilee?” she asked. “I haven't seen him since he broke my scale, and my little hellspawn never tell me anything about Cheerilee that doesn't involve excuses for why they have detention.”

“They're fine,” said Applejack, morosely. “Happy, boring as hell, and totally fine.”

“Aren't we all?” said Pinkie Pie.

Applejack nodded towards the door. “Nope,” she said, quietly.

Pinkie turned to see what or whom Applejack had indicated. It was Fluttershy, and the sight made Pinkie sigh deeply.

Her mane was draped to cover the right side of her face, and she was wearing too much makeup and a pair of large, darkly-shaded sunglasses.

“Oh! Hello, girls.” she said, with as much volume as she ever used. She took off the glasses, and tucked them into her saddlebag, careful all the while to keep her head erect enough that her mane would not slip to the side and reveal what Applejack and Pinkie Pie already knew was there.

“Hi, Fluttershy!” said Pinkie cheerfully. “Can I get you something?”

“I'd just like a little coffee,” said the pegasus, "and some aspirin."

“Coming right up,” said Pinkie Pie. “You just take a seat right here.”

The yellow pony did as Pinkie told her, and took a seat across from Applejack, who sipped at her coffee without saying a word.

Fluttershy turned her head to the right, and pretended to look out the window. Applejack continued sipping at the steaming, black brew in her cup, but she could feel a boiling sensation growing in the pit of her stomach. Her jaw clenched tightly, and she felt her teeth beginning to grind. Soon, she became aware that Fluttershy had noticed, and tried to stop herself. It was no use.

“What brings you out this early?” Fluttershy asked, trying to break the tension.

“Outta food,” said Applejack, shortly. “Gotta eat to work.”

“Ah,” was all that Fluttershy said in response. The silence that descended between the two ponies was overbearing and oppressive. After a few seconds, Applejack could take it no more. Even as Pinkie Pie was returning to the table with Fluttershy's coffee, she spoke.

“Show me,” was all that she said.

Fluttershy winced, and shrank back.

“Ah, shit,” said Pinkie Pie.

Fluttershy sat back upright, and turned her head to face Applejack. She lifted a hoof, and swept aside her mane, though only slightly. She had done her best to hide it with her makeup, but despite her efforts, it was readily apparent that the draining fluid from a fresh black eye had begun to turn her entire cheek a sickly mixture of browns, greens, and purples.

Still, there was something that she wasn't letting the earth ponies see. They could tell it by her mere posture. Without asking permission, Applejack reached out and swept her mane fully aside. There was a gash running through her eyebrow. It had been stitched up.

“That's where his horseshoe caught you, ain't it?” She scowled. “What did you tell 'em at the hospital?”

“I told them I fell off a cloud while I was taking a nap,” she said, obviously ashamed.

“Yeah,” said Pinkie Pie, “and they asked you all the questions, again, didn't they?”

“Of course they did,” whispered Fluttershy. Her eyes teared up, slightly.

“If you'd tell 'em the truth,” said Applejack, “You'd be rid of him.”

“I don't want to be rid of him,” said Fluttershy. “And besides, what if it didn't work out that way? What would he do then?”

“Wait,” said Pinkie Pie. “So you won't do anything about this because you're afraid? 'Cause I'll totally pull the party cannon on his ass, and it won't be loaded with confetti, either.”

“Not just that,” said Fluttershy. “I don't want him gone. I just... I don't know.”

“Fuck it,” said Applejack. “None of my goddamn business.” She sipped again at her coffee, then looked Fluttershy in the eyes. “Still disgusts me, though.”

“You mean, I disgust you?” asked the pegasus, turning her eyes towards the table.

The room fell silent, except the sound of the two ponies occasionally sipping at their coffee. Pinkie Pie returned to tidying up the lobby, and Applejack simply stared out the window, wondering how much longer she could put off going back home to put a fresh coat of paint on the barn.

That was why she saw it first: a chariot drawn by royal guards landed right outside, just beyond where the foals were still playing.

“Aw, goddammit,” she said.

The other two ponies looked at her, and seeing her nod towards the window, quickly ascertained the reason for her irritation: Princess Celestia had stepped off the chariot, and was walking directly toward Sugar Cube Corner.

“I wonder what the hell she wants,” said Pinkie Pie, curiously.

“I have no idea what the hell she even could want,” said Fluttershy, confused.

“I don't give a damn what the hell she wants,” said Applejack, seething.

At that moment, Princess Celestia stepped through the door, escorted by two guards.

Applejack turned to look at her, and scowled.

“What the hell do you want?”

One of the guards gave a low, growling whinny, and Celestia raised a hoof in front of his chest. He settled down, and she spoke.

“I came to give you some news that I felt you deserved to hear from me face-to-face.”

“Spit it out,” said Applejack, disinterestedly.

Celestia sighed.

“Not even going to pretend to care, I see?”

“It'd be dishonest,” said Applejack, giving her a grin that stopped well short of her eyes.

“AJ,” said Pinkie Pie, “just let her get on with it, would you?”

“Fine,” huffed Applejack, and silence fell on the room for a few seconds.

Finally, after gnawing at her lip for a moment, Celestia gave a slight shrug, and spoke.

“We found Twilight Sparkle,” was all that she said.

Pinkie Pie leapt the counter, and skidded to a halt in front of the Princess.

“Say that again.”

“We found her,” said Celestia. “She's in the Crystal Empire, with her brother and Cadance.” She paused for a moment. “I thought you should know.”

Applejack, who had been taken completely off guard by the news, said nothing. It was Fluttershy who asked the question that plagued the three ponies' minds.

“When can we see her?”

“I don't know,” said Celestia. “I am leaving that decision up to you. From what Cadance has told me in letters, I am fairly certain that she does not wish to see me. Given the circumstances of our parting, I am not surprised.”

“Well, you shouldn't be,” said Applejack, harshly, and she sipped at her coffee.

“Then how wonderful to know that all is right in the world,” said Celestia, coldly. “If even one of you has a chance to try and contact her, however, please do so. It may shock you to know this, but I do still care about the fate of Twilight Sparkle, and whatever her current condition, her best chance of ever becoming something that even approximates her former self lies with you.”

“Who's saying I still give a shit about her?” asked Applejack. “She's the one that up and hauled ass after we all tried to help her keep it together – which is more than you can say.”

“I was given no opportunity," said Celestia. "She never came to me for help."

“But you didn't have to say what you said,” came Fluttershy's small voice.

Celestia was so surprised to have been brought to task by, of all ponies, Fluttershy, that for a moment, she could not find the words to respond.

“No, I did not,” she said, finally, her voice sinking. “For a moment, I allowed myself to be... imperfect,” she said, and the way she pronounced that word “imperfect” had more rancor than the foulest curse. “That one moment turned out to be the most vital moment in the life of somepony I love. Congratulations to you all; you witnessed the greatest single shortcoming of my entire life. Years beyond counting, and failures too numerous to even permit recollection, but you were all there for the big one.”

None of them responded. They had no idea how.

“When you get a chance, go to her,” said Celestia. “Or don't. I will demand nothing of any of you. You have all done enough in the past.”

With that, she turned to leave. Before she could go, however, something caused her to turn around.

“That foal out there,” she said, “is that Shimmershine?”

“Yeah,” said Pinkie Pie. “That's him; the almighty Sun Eater, himself.”

“He seems... normal,” said Celestia, her voice peaceful, tinged even with a tiny bit of hope.

“Pretty much,” said Pinkie Pie. “He stays out of trouble, as long as he's not hanging around
my boys.”

“I see,” said Celestia. “So, maybe he did turn out to just be a happy, normal earth pony.”

“So far, so good,” said Pinkie Pie. “Lyra was in here a few days ago, though, and she mentioned that he's been having nightmares. Probably nothing. Lots of foals go through that phase.”

“Yes,” said Celestia. “Probably just a phase.”

She gave a slight nod. “Well, thank you all,” she said, and once more began to turn. Before she could even come fully about, however, she stopped, and looked intently at Fluttershy.

“Fluttershy,” she asked, “what happened to your face?”

The pegasus had not bothered to don her glasses or reposition her mane.

“I fell,” she mumbled, pushing her hair back over her eye and cheek.

“From where?” asked the Princess, “Cloudsdale?”

“Ha!” came a single, half-snorted laugh from Pinkie Pie.

“Just let it alone,” said Applejack. “That little pony's hopeless.”

“I see,” said Celestia. “We're all hopeless these days, aren't we?”

“I'm doing fine,” said Pinkie Pie. "Speak for yourself."

“Well,” said the Princess, “I'll be on my way.”

She turned, and this time, she really did leave.

The ponies took note of her stopping to speak to the foals. They all seemed stunned and even a little frightened, but in a few moments, she turned, and hopped into her chariot.

Then, she was gone.

“Well,” said Applejack, standing up, “Fluttershy, your boyfriend's a heartless dick. As for me, I have a barn to paint, and I coulda done it a lot more clear-headed if'n Twilight had fucking stayed dead."

She snorted sharply, and started for the door.

“See y'all later,” she said.

“Honesty,” said Fluttershy. “Yay.”

“She's just trying to help,” said Pinkie Pie, and then she smiled. "She's right about one thing, though -- Twilight's back from the dead."

Author's Note

Originally, Twilight was going to have a pair of horn-rimmed glasses that she had found somewhere in the Monastery after too much reading in its dim confines had begun to degrade her eyesight. It was meant to make her seem older, but I decided it gave off too much of a hipster vibe, and replaced them with the part about her being a little bit emaciated. It's not a pleasant image, but it's what she would probably look like, and it felt right.

I thought and thought about changing Shimmershine's name. First of all, there was that opening song from the Season Three finale. "Morning in Ponyville shimmers/shines," etc. Then, there was Sunset Shimmer. Finally, I just said "To hell with it." I gave him that name before either of those things happened -- Fluttershy gave him that name before either of those things. It's a hazard of writing in an ongoing universe.