“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.