Author's Note
2/17/2015 - Some editing done. Mostly phrases and some words changed.
Absolutely all comments, positive or negative (though preferably not vulgar), are welcome. If there is something about my story that you think is lacking, please let me know. All in all, I hope you enjoy.
PART I
The Seventh Star
by Mr. Page
* * * * * * *
~ ~ ~ PART I ~ ~ ~
The sun gleamed brightly in the blue sky and all under its rays rejoiced. Equestria's newest princess had just been crowned and throughout the land, people were celebrating. None, however, compared to those in Canterlot.
An hour had passed since the coronation began and of the many who attended the regal event and went to celebrate outside, only one had retreated back into the building from where it all started.
The majestic Ceremonial Hall, adorned with pillars, candles, and an open balcony, laid quiet except for a few cheerless sighs from its sole visitor, seated on the top step of the Hall’s podium. His tiny purple claws were clasped together, resting on his small knees. His scaly head was bowed and his green eyes were closed.
After what had been a long, strenuous period of thoughts spinning and repeating, the small creature turned his head to look at a particular spot on the podium.
Not too very long ago — only a few months, in fact — he had stood in that spot for a wedding and played the role of ring bearer. Regardless of the frightful changeling invasion that preceded it, the wedding ended up being a cheerful one, one he had been happy and honored to be part of.
How intriguing that, not too long after, he would return to stand in the same spot for another grand occasion — this time for a coronation to bestow a crown. Another great honor, a once-in-a-lifetime event that he, again, was thankful to attend and, above all, be included.
Like the wedding, it was an event he knew he would always remember. Unlike the wedding, his emotions that followed the coronation were, unfortunately, quite different.
Spike let out another sigh and turned to stare back down the few steps on which he sat. Looking ahead down the long, empty hall, his thoughts swam with the painful facts he couldn’t force away. Like hot pins they seemed to poke him all over, reminding him in little snide whispers. All he could do about it was close his eyes, trying and failing to fight the anguish of the awful truth.
‘Twilight . . .’
* * * * * * *
It was still hard to believe. Twilight Sparkle, his best friend since he hatched, his mentor to the pony way, had grown and risen to the title of Princess. To say Spike felt unhappy about this wasn’t true. Spike was very proud of Twilight, and hopeful for her. She had proven herself, gained a spot in royalty, and achieved her destiny — all in the course of one day. Now an alicorn, and a princess to boot, the entire world awaited her and the amazing future she would undoubtedly bring.
She had earned it, totally and completely. In Spike’s green eyes, no pony was more worthy of the status or destiny than Twilight. Sadly, though, Spike couldn’t ignore what all of this meant for himself.
He hadn’t realized it at first, but then, how could he have? He had been too caught up in the glorious moment, same as everypony else.
When he saw Twilight float down from the night sky and onto the grounds of Ponyville with her new wings, Spike was, at first, speechless. But as the image sank in, excitement took him. He began imagining himself and Twilight flying across Equestria, having loads of new adventures and all sorts of tasks to complete together. A whole world of new, exciting possibilities were now open to them. During that moment, when he, Celestia, and his friends gave the new princess her first bow of respect, Spike couldn’t have felt happier.
The morning came and, as everypony waited in Canterlot’s Ceremonial Hall, elegantly dressed for the momentous occasion, Spike felt an odd scratchy feeling in his chest. At first he thought it came from the task Princess Celestia had granted him of handing Twilight her crown: a tiny, silly fear that he might trip or drop the crown or do some other embarrassing thing. Quite easily, Spike ignored it.
The doors of the Hall opened and Twilight entered, wearing a beautiful dress of gold and pink. Again Spike felt the twinge, but again it dissipated quickly. His heart grew light as his best friend walked closer, accompanied by song and banners bearing her cutie mark. He raised the cushion and watched the crown magically raise up and place itself on Twilight’s head. Then, as she walked out onto the balcony with Princess Celestia and Luna, Spike’s heart thudded — this time heavily.
Standing where he was, Spike could hear Twilight’s speech of acceptance and gratitude. Yet . . . for some reason, Twilight seemed farther away than she really was.
Spike remembered shaking his head at this, thinking himself silly. Twilight was right in front of him, plain as day, coated in the balcony’s sunlight and surrounded by her friends and the two princesses. She wasn’t far away; he could see her plainly. So why. . . ? He shook his head again.
Wanting to stand beside her, to be amongst the group, Spike raised his foot to go and join them, but the ponies had already turned around and were coming back. Seizing the chance, he joined Twilight and their friends outside as they sang through the streets of Canterlot, stating that everything was “certainly fine”.
In that moment — that wonderful instant when they were all together — everything truly was.
But then, as Twilight flew off into the sky for the very first time, leaving the ground she had once been confined to walk, Spike’s chest ached in genuine, and slowly, his smile faded. The thoughts that had been scraping at his heart had now fully torn through, and the farther Twilight flew, the more Spike became aware of it.
He pulled away from his friends, and not one pony turned their heads as he walked back to the building alone. They were all too busy staring up in amazement at Twilight’s spectacle, and he couldn’t blame them. It was incredible; truly it was. But for him, it was also upsetting. What was supposed to be a wonderful sight, Twilight’s shining moment, became, instead, a horrible realization which dawned on Spike like a dark oncoming storm.
* * * * * * *
Could it really have all just been an hour ago? The Ceremonial Hall had been filled with praise, cheer, and music. Now it stood empty and silent, resting like a sepulcher.
Seated, motionless except for his downcast eyes, Spike tried forcing his mind to hear those sounds again: the cheering, the voices, the happy admiration of his friends. But no matter how he tried, the same images kept appearing: Twilight, her crown, her destiny, and the truth of it all, humming through Spike’s mind like a mournful dirge.
It couldn’t be ignored: the rank Twilight obtained for herself was one where Spike did not belong — her destiny, one he could not be part of. Now that she was royalty, dozens of brand new assistants will surely answer Twilight’s every beck and call, providing all the help she would ever need. Although Spike desperately wished his mind would fabricate some sort of hope, even a small one, he just couldn’t see any reason why Twilight would want him as her one and only assistant anymore, not when there were so many more experienced ponies to do the job.
She was a princess now and deserved the best — the very best — and he, sadly, was simply Spike. How could he ever be worthy of serving a princess?
Gripping his knees, he closed his eyes and tried thinking ahead, clawing for some idea on what would happen next.
Would it happen in a few days time? Will it be sprung on him like a surprise, just like Twilight's wings?
Where was he going to go? Even if Spike were to stay in Ponyville or Canterlot or whatever place would have him, what would he do, what new role could he possibly play? Who would he belong with? Twilight had always been the center of everypony's attention, from their best friends to Equestria’s princesses. And he? Out of all of them, great and wonderful, what was he? What had he ever been? A little helper? A measly tagalong in what was already a complete group? Since when had Twilight ever really needed him when she had her five friends or Princess Celestia?
Tears began to surge behind Spike's tightly shut eyes. It was with pain that he kept them from escaping.
Stinging from his denied tears, Spike glanced down the beautiful hallway, its elegant columns and arched windows a master’s work, all dedicated for the great princesses who reside in these walls.
He turned his sight toward the windows. Outside, the graceful towers of Canterlot Castle rose and fell, reminding Spike how much bigger the whole palace was compared to this one small building.
Spike stared at the great castle with gloom. There was no place for him there anymore. Despite over the years that Princess Celestia had always lovingly welcomed him in her castle, Spike couldn't be fooled. His admittance had always hinged on his role to Twilight, the sparkling star of Celestia's kingdom who had grown and now shined across the world. He, in contrast, had merely served as Twilight's entrance exam and grew up learning to help whenever she needed it. A student's assistant and nothing more. . . .
But Spike didn’t regret this. He never had any frustration in aiding Twilight. He had been happy to have the role, proud. Some ponies might’ve viewed his job as being little more than a miniature butler, but not he, not Spike. Being with Twilight, to help her, was all he wanted since before he could think, because those were his first happy moments, the first kind of happiness he remembered. Growing up, Spike had learned to assist so that those moments would continue, whether it was helping Twilight hone her spell casting, marking things off her lengthy checklists, or even just picking up the open library books she had finished reading.
Twilight’s smile and gratitude became Spike’s motivation, his greatest reward as an assistant. Sweets were fine and gems delicious, but it was the appreciation of his deeds that went deepest. To hear Twilight say “thank you” for all he did was a treasure all its own, a treasure only Spike knew, because they were his, and his alone.
‘So what now?’ Spike thought miserably. With Twilight as a princess and new assistants on the way, how will he go on, knowing he’ll never see or hear his greatest reward again?
Spike couldn't bear sitting any longer; if he did, he felt he might never have the strength to stand again. He got to his feet and, with stiff legs, he descended the few steps and started down the quiet Ceremonial Hall.
He moved slowly, taking in every resounding footstep, beginning what felt like his final walk.
* * * * * * *
After exiting the Hall and descending a small flight of stairs, Spike entered a new hallway little different than the one he just left. It was very similar in design: marble columns standing tall and elegant, flowering plants flourishing beautifully on the wall’s ledges, and the size of the hall (thanks to Spike’s current state) seemingly a mile in length. The main difference was that this hall was mostly shaded. Practically all the ceiling-high windows had heavy velvet curtains drawn, all except for three in which the sunlight poured through.
Spike stared ahead down the shadowy stretch. The hall was completely deserted. Most of the guards and other servants were probably still outside with the guests, cheering in their new princess. Spike let out a sigh and it echoed deep and heavily around the empty passage. He waited until it went silent, then started down the hall.
Spike had taken only a few steps when something on the floor caught his notice, right where the sunlight was touching the ground. Curious, he jogged forward and stopped at the edge where the light from the first window left a clear, colored image on the red carpet.
Spike looked up and his heart eased a little from its pain. Etched in the stained glass were seven ponies. Six were in the lower panel: two unicorns, two pegasi, and two earth ponies. Each was emitting a bright beam of light, directed at the large, dark alicorn above, cloaked in menacing armor.
It was the commemorative window to Twilight and her friends, the new Elements of Harmony, defeating Nightmare Moon.
Spike remembered back to that first day in Ponyville. He had slept through the whole incident. Regardless of the threat that had been made, his baby dragon nature had prevented him from staying up.
What would the results have been, he wondered, if he had had the strength to stay awake through that fateful night? Would he have made any difference? Would there be a little dragon standing next to the purple unicorn in the stained glass?
Spike grimaced, despising himself for thinking this. Any additional image would ruin the window’s symmetry and be a distraction.
The glass was the way it was suppose to be: Twilight and her five best friends. Just the six of them, like it has always been. . . .
With his heart aching again, Spike resumed his walking. Passing under it, the ponies from the stained glass washed over him like a waterfall of color. They were wonderfully warm. Or . . . perhaps it was just the sunlight.
Spike stopped and looked down to the red carpet again. Not far from where the first was, another image shone on the floor with extremely similar patterns. Turning to the face the opposite wall, Spike looked up. There, in the hall’s second exposed window, were the same six ponies. This time, in place of Nightmare Moon, there was what looked like a sea serpent made from the parts of several different creatures.
‘Discord’, Spike thought. Another commemoration to the six great ponies: defeating the Spirit of Chaos, saving Equestria from endless disorder, and proving just how unbreakable and beloved their friendship is. Again, there was no seventh member, no additional friend amongst the group. Spike couldn’t help it this time; a neglected jealousy growled in his center. A second later, he bowed his head, feeling childish.
Spike knew there was nothing he could’ve done to help; he wasn’t a wielder of the Elements of Harmony. Despite how much loyalty he has for Twilight and their friends, he just doesn't embody Loyalty like Rainbow Dash, and so the Element didn’t work in the short minute he had it on. The only help he really gave Twilight was getting the book with the Elements away from their corrupted friends — a two-on-four game of keep-away.
‘Yeah . . . you were very heroic there’, Spike thought sarcastically.
Without a second look, he turned away from the window.
Back in the more shaded part of the hall, Spike continued towards the door at the far end. His sight was fixed down on the long expanse of red carpet, the six ponies still stuck in the back of his eyes.
Then, having walked a short distance, Spike came to a halt. He lowered his eyebrows and squinted at the floor.
‘What the —’
At his feet, the color from the previous two windows seemed to manifest on the ground. But how? They were behind him, he had already passed their cast images. And more importantly, why was he . . .
He looked up and his heart seemed to stagger, his breath fallen short. He had forgotten about the third window.
Spike stared at it. He was there. Surrounded by brilliant blue glass, his arms were held outstretched, reaching for the blue heart at the window’s center. Above the heart’s bright glow was Cadence, Princess of the Crystal Empire.
Spike took in every corner of the huge window and, as he did, his spirits lifted and his memory reeled back.
Shortly after the return from the Crystal Empire, and before she had spoken to Twilight, Princess Celestia had called Spike in to show him the newly fashioned window. The baby dragon could hardly believe the work of art; he had never before achieved anything like this. He was just about to hop in happiness when, with no warning, Celestia nuzzled his cheek.
‘I’m so proud of you, Spike,’ she had said tenderly. ‘Twilight is so fortunate to have a friend like you.’
Spike remembered hugging Celestia in return, saying he was grateful, for the window, for her kind words.
But then Spike’s mind shot back to the present, and slowly, his happy attitude began to diminish. The window was beautiful, yes, and Spike’s image at the bottom represented him boldly, surrounded in that large blue circle. But there was no Twilight at the bottom, nor any of his other friends with him, and the baby dragon suddenly felt as lifeless as the huge glass image of himself.
Now that Spike thought about it, what was there for Celestia or anypony to be proud of? All he did back at the Crystal Empire was bring the Crystal Heart to the fair, given the privilege only because Twilight wasn’t able to do it herself. Other than that, what noteworthy thing had he done? It was Cadence who released the Empire’s magic, she and the Crystal Ponies who powered the Heart, expelling the dark magic King Sombra thrived off of. What was he, Spike, to thank for?
Sure, he played a role in saving the day, but it was little more than being a delivery boy. He would’ve died if Cadence hadn’t caught him as he fell through the air. The Empire would've fallen if not for Twilight’s brilliance and the Crystal Ponies’ raised spirits. So why did Princess Celestia commemorate him for another’s triumph? Why wasn’t Cadence and the Crystal Ponies reaching for the Heart, together as a group instead of the baby dragon doing it all alone?
But then Spike remembered. It hadn’t really been about him or the others. It had been about Twilight, tested in reviving the Empire and lifting the danger Sombra presented. Granted, she hadn’t totally followed Celestia’s wishes, but she had, nevertheless, succeeded. Twilight had made the right choice, choosing the safety and good of others over her own need to be a top-notch student. Noble and unselfish, she passed the job of delivering the Crystal Heart onto Spike, and, as a result, saved the Crystal Empire.
He had only served a tiny part in the equation, a mere thread in compared to the grand design. . . .
Spike’s eyes began to sting again. Twilight was the one who should be displayed on the window. She was the far greater of the two. Although, now that he thought of it, it wouldn’t match her new status. She sat atop the highest pedestal now, was above stained glass windows, far and beyond being remembered simply for saving a kingdom or defeating tyrants.
Feeling smaller than he was, Spike turned away from the tall gleaming picture of himself and within moments, reached the door at the hall’s end.
Moving down the shaded stairwell, Spike quickly forgot about the stained glass windows. The hallway he had left had been a marvelous distraction for his aching heart, but now he was back on track, heading towards the end.
‘Almost there . . .’ he thought with dread.
Spike was hardly aware of his own walking. He was too preoccupied on his current state: still in Twilight's service, still her Number One Assistant. This time that remained . . . it felt so precious, more valuable than it had in all his years in Twilight’s employ. How strange that he had never appreciated his job like he did now. Granted, there was that time he thought he lost it to Owlowiscious, but on that occasion he had simply overreacted. This, on the other hoof, was real and coming close to being final.
All those times Spike complained about cleaning up messes and ink spills, those moments when he had to stack and alphabetize books, the long days when he didn't feel like working. . . . What had he been doing, not realizing how fortunate he was? He had a job, a home, friends, somepony by his side. Soon there won’t be anything left except the memory of it all, and the dark unknown which lay ahead.
Spike only prayed that Twilight will, at least, remember him, and that her new assistants show her all the affection she deserves.
'She deserves the best,' he thought, trying to imagine who those lucky ones might be. . . .
* * * * * * *
He arrived at the bottom stair.
Slowly, Spike crossed into the final corridor and stopped to look ahead. Though he stood a good distance from the building’s entrance, he could hear the cheering beyond the three open doors. It sounded so happy, so filled with life. . . .
Spike forced his legs to move. He must do it, he must face the end of his service, the end of his and Twilight’s. . . .
Step after step, the three doorways seemed to grow larger as he drew nearer, their frames separating the empty, shadowy foyer from the sunny, cheerful outside.
Spike stopped and stole a moment to breathe. The light from the doorway stung his eyes, clouded from the shaded halls he had walked through. His heart was pounding and his throat seemed to constrict. He was footsteps away now.
‘I have to,’ Spike thought to himself, his mouth dry and eyes stinging. ‘I want . . . I want to look at her one last . . .’
It was so hard to move. Is this what being made of stone felt like?
Glaring down at the floor, Spike’s claws curled into fists. Biting his lip, he growled inwardly at himself. This was no time to hesitate; this could very well be his last chance. Though he had no idea what he would do when he got there, and was, he could not lie, frightened, Spike knew he would never forgive himself if he didn’t get one last look.
Inhaling, he let out a deep, quaking breath and, with all the force he could muster, Spike pushed himself forth through the doorway and out of the shade.
~ ~ ~ PART II ~ ~ ~
Warm and blinding, the sunlight fell upon Spike, forcing him to squint. Due to his many visits to Canterlot Castle in the past, Spike didn’t need to see clearly to know he was now standing outside at the top of this building’s entrance stairs. From what he could tell, he was near the edge of the topmost railing. Gripping it, he looked down to what knew was the courtyard.
His eyes took a few moments to fully adjust to the bright scene, but it took no time at all for Spike to spot them. Faint though they were, their six colorful selves seemed to bypass the dazzling sun, filling every corner of Spike's vision until they became clear.
The coronation party was in full swing. Colorfully curled streamers and banners stretched across the courtyard, balloons of every size and hue were tied to the many chairs and tables, lively music was being played and enjoyed, and the finest, tastiest food was laid out for any and all who wanted it. Ponies were everywhere, chatting at tables or on hoof, celebrating in their own individual ways such as meeting up with old friends or having a small dance with new friends on the open green grass.
In one section of the courtyard, where the music was most vibrant and energetic, Pinkie Pie was dancing cheerfully and vigorously, spinning on her back like a top and bouncing all over the place, laughing and whooping. Her smile was the biggest of the massive crowd, who found the pink mare’s laughter contagious and were taken by giggles, chortling, and outright roars. To Spike’s own surprise, he found that he too was laughing a little.
‘Oh, Pinkie,’ thought Spike, shaking his head in amusement. It really was funny. . . . Even with his current thoughts, the bubbly pink mare could still make him laugh.
It felt good to laugh. . . .
Spike turned to another corner of the courtyard where delicious scents floated on the air. Applejack was stationed at a table, handing out treats; most of them, to no surprise, were apple related. Caramel apple cake and apple dumplings, apple muffins and frosted apple turnovers, sweet apple cider, dried apples mixed with nuts, and, of course, everypony’s favorite apple pies. The food was spread out on the tables as though they had been arranged for a painting. The composure was excellent and looked so appetizing that Spike almost felt hungry.
Seeing all of it, of how much there was to eat, reminded Spike of how hard a worker Applejack was. To put together all that food in a short time, with such precise care and quality, all for Twilight’s big day — it was friendship at its tastiest, Applejack’s integrity the garnish on it all.
A spilt-second later, a multi-colored blur zoomed over the orange farm pony, nearly blowing off her hat. It flew by so fast that, had Spike not known better, he would've thought he imagined it. But of course Spike knew who it was, as did anypony who knew Ponyville's fastest flyer.
Rainbow Dash stopped in midair, her sky-blue wings flapping with ease. She hovered for a brief moment and, as though the air demanded if of her, she took to the sky and flew in a spiral, leaving behind a colorful trail that matched her mane and tail. Spike couldn’t help but be impressed, and his amazement increased when Rainbow shot back to the ground and flew speedily in a circle, making the colored spiral she made spin like a pinwheel.
Spike stared in astonishment. Rainbow Dash, despite her occasional arrogance, never failed to impress. She worked and trained endlessly to perfection, and, being the devoted mare she was, she made sure her friend’s coronation was filled with excitement. The crowd stomped in applause and hooted for more. Not being one to keep a crowd hanging, Rainbow took off, ready to give more, for Twilight and everypony present.
Down by the stairs, a group of impressed high-class ponies were chatting. Spike’s attention shot at once to the subject of their interest: a gorgeous snow white unicorn who shined like Luna’s moon on the sea. Rarity was receiving compliments left and right for designing Twilight’s coronation dress, as well as for the one she herself wore and the dresses she prepared for her other friends.
Spike beamed serenely. He had adored Rarity ever since he laid eyes on her inside her boutique. That day seemed a lifetime ago, but regardless, Rarity was as beautiful as ever, still attracting the attention she so rightfully deserved.
Looking around the bustling courtyard, Spike thought he could make out her unique style on the mares and stallions, adorned in their dresses and suits. Yes, there was no doubt Rarity had a part to play in such a formal celebration; her fashion practically spoke for itself.
Spike placed his claw over his heart in admiration of the snow-white mare. He felt a shirt button.
‘What the . . .’ he looked down at himself, and found, to his surprise, that he too was wearing something of Rarity’s: a small tuxedo she made specially for him.
Spike left off a light chuckle. He had felt so numb over the last hour that he forgot he was still wearing it.
The clothes rested gently against his scaly skin. Rarity had taken the greatest care in making sure the fabric would be totally comfortable for Spike when he wore it. It was perfect, and, if he must say, quite fancy. The suit jacket, black and crisp; the white shirt, clean and soft; and the red bowtie, just the right size and wrapped snuggly around the collar. Though it was small and seemed so simple, Spike admired every stitch Rarity had put in into it. He will cherish the suit forever, a keepsake of the unicorn who taught him generosity, who will always hold a special place in his dragon heart.
The party’s energetic music stopped playing and was replaced by a softer tune.
Spike turned his sight back up to the courtyard. Over by the tiny ponds, which consisted of some flowering bushes and other oriental plants, Fluttershy was hovering beside the shrubs and addressing colorful birds to fly to certain places and tweet merrily. Spike could hear the chirps from where he was atop the stairs, and for a while, he just stood and listened. It was a delightful melody, gentle yet graceful, like the yellow pegasus who communicated with the birds.
Spike remembered back to the first day he met the shy mare; she had been conducting a choir of birds at the time also.
‘And she thought I was cute,’ Spike thought, smirking at the memory. Fluttershy, who’s afraid of dragons, thought he was cute.
To this day the adorable mare was so loving and gentle, so kind to him and all living creatures — a caregiver whose compassion had no equal. Spike prayed this will never change about her, for the kindness Fluttershy held and shared with everypony was a treasure, more precious than diamonds and more pure than solid gold.
The bird song ended with a gentle applause and the active music started up again.
Spike turned to the younger crowd and saw, with amusement, Sweetie Belle, Applebloom, and Scootaloo doing their own little dance. Scootaloo, of course, was the best dancer of the group. Sweetie Belle did okay, having taken lessons from Rarity. Applebloom, however, kept tripping over her two left hooves, but that didn't matter. If ever one of them fell, they all giggled and got right back into it. Spike smirked at the adorable bunch. Being closest to their age, he could tell they were having a great time.
Resting his claws on the railing, Spike took in the whole scene, his attention jumping from one friend to the next. Nothing had changed for the ponies. Regardless that Twilight was now a princess, they were still the same group of friends, sharing in each other’s happiness, blissfully eager for the days ahead. His friends . . . the ponies who had taught him so much, who mean so much to him . . . they were all going to be just fine.
Smiling, Spike closed his eyes, and in that instant, he didn’t care what awaited him. This moment was perfect: him watching his friends and all the ponies rejoicing, full of hope and delight. If ever there was a sight to behold, to leave embossed on the mind forever, this was it.
The baby dragon opened his eyes. The present image was still there, both outward and in.
Breathing in the peaceful, apple-scented air, Spike raised his foot and took his first step down the nearest of the two stairways.
He took another step, and then another. The party’s atmosphere floated on the breeze, whispering, telling him to come celebrate, to join his friends.
He reached the bottom and now stood on the green grass. Before he could take another step, though, Spike turned and saw what he had been trying to avoid since the moment he walked outside.
They stood not too far away, clearly visible despite the crowding of ponies.
Prince Shining Armor was dressed in the same red and white regal suit he had been married in. Next to him, his wife, Princess Cadence, wore a sparkling blue dress with her hair set in a gorgeous style. The two were having a conversation that Spike couldn’t hear from where he stood, though from their pleasant expressions, it looked like a happy one.
To the side, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna stood in their ceremonial attire: elegant woven robes and gold crowns resting atop their flowing ethereal manes. They greeted ponies as they passed by, either with a bow of their head or a short hello.
All four of the royals were filled with the same rejoice Spike had witnessed an hour ago, when he still felt happy and hadn’t bothered to think ahead. . . .
Then, as his mind grimly reminded him why he was there, Spike’s attention turned to a group of ponies standing in front of the prince and princesses. They appeared to be talking to somepony, somepony other than the four royals. Spike stood on tiptoe to try and see who it was, though deep down he already knew. The ponies cleared away and walked off, leaving the path between Spike and the royals in plain sight.
The whole world seemed to stop, all sound in the courtyard fallen to a whisper.
Standing right next to Celestia was the new princess, adorned in her bright gold and pink dress. A pair of feathery purple wings rested atop her back, and on her head, just above her horn, was a crown with a hot pink star, symbolizing both her Element of Harmony and her new status.
“Twilight.”
Spike didn't shout it. He said her name as though she were standing right next to him, a simple greeting. Regardless, however, the new princess turned her head and looked directly at him, right into his emerald green eyes.
Had Twilight heard him from where she was? Spike couldn't see how. The party was noisy with amusement and he and her were a reasonable distance apart. Did her magic sense his presence, the only missing member from her past life? Or did she just happen to spot his purple and green scaly form against the stairs? Now that Spike noticed, he was the only one standing anywhere near the stairs, and he stood out reasonably well.
Spike suddenly felt uncomfortable. What he was looking at didn't seem real. . . .
Twilight's wings were motionless, unfluttered, yet seemed to scream aloud with attention. Spike could hardly believe that they had looked cool when he first saw them. Now he wasn’t sure how he felt. . . .
Twilight’s older brother and sister-in-law, the Princesses of the Sun and Moon stood beside her, looking at her with praise. She was no longer just a close friend of the royals, she was one of them: a princess, a magnificent gem in a most glorious crown.
But of all this, it wasn’t the crown, the title, or even her wings that struck Spike to silence. No . . . it was the smile Twilight was giving him.
It was sweet and caring, a smile which had to be seen to be truly felt, which Spike had seen and felt many times before: back when he was a hatchling, when he had first moved to Ponyville, when he and Twilight were together at the Crystal Empire. From all the way across time to the present, that wonderful smile still remained, as only Twilight could show it.
Spike’s chest began to hurt and his eyes prickled again.
Twilight, still smiling, raised her hoof in his direction and waved it, beckoning him to come and join her, to stand alongside her.
Spike tried to smile in response, but something kept it from forming. His legs wouldn’t budge, wouldn’t allow him to move farther into the courtyard, away from the stairs.
Anger and sadness, longing and hope swirled inside him like an illness. Why wasn't he going to her? He wanted to, he wanted to be beside her: she, his first and best friend, his mentor, the center of his whole life amongst the world of ponies. But now that Spike thought of it, that was the answer to it all.
Twilight was his whole life. Was . . . but no more. She was a princess now, and he was just an old assistant. Soon, others more worthy, more deserving of Twilight’s service will enter the picture, and Spike couldn’t see any room in it for him to fit.
He swallowed the bitter air his mouth wouldn’t let escape. Then, still staring into Twilight's violet gaze, his chest rasping with pain, he frowned sadly and shook his head.
Twilight's smile melted and turned to confusion. Spike's eyes stung terribly, but he shut them before anything else could happen. He couldn't stand being here anymore. This was Twilight's party, her celebration, and he didn't belong with her new group or even this group of happy, common ponies. With his sight to the ground, he turned and sprinted back up the stairs, away from the party . . . away from his friends.
Spike’s eyes burned as he ran, and when he passed back under the building’s triple doorway, the shade of the foyer fell over him like a cold, silent cloud. He stopped, loosened his bowtie, and breathed heavily, trying to regain himself, but as he did, he heard a faint voice call out.
“Spike?”
He froze and inhaled with a gasp, choking on his emerging tears. Rushing away from the entrance where the voice sounded, Spike headed towards the nearest wall and stopped at an open door.
Inside was a small, empty, gray space, no larger than Twilight’s bedroom back in Ponyville. Off to the side was a shaded stone stairwell, leading down into the castle’s lower levels where Spike had never explored. There was also a bright low-positioned window, straight across from the door.
Spike entered the room and crawled up onto the low stone window ledge where warm sunlight poured in through the clean, transparent glass. With his back pressed against the window’s corner, Spike curled his knees up to his face and, unable to resist any longer, his tears gave way.
His breathing came in huffs and he had no control as they rushed out of him like somepony suffocating.
It was too much. He wanted the pain in his chest to stop, the truth to be a lie. The fact that he was going to lose Twilight filled every nerve with soul-numbing agony.
At the same time, as his sobbing continued, Spike felt angry and ashamed with himself. Twilight was his best friend and this was her big day; he should be happy for her! She had found her destiny, was at the top, where he knew she belonged, where she deserved to be.
He, on the other hoof, was stuck right where he had always been: not at the top with Twilight, nor at the bottom wasting away in the dark. He was trapped in the middle, alone with absolutely nopony to tell him what would happen next. The uncertainty, the unknown of it all was torture, worse than anything that could be done physically.
Why did it all have to end like this? How could he have allowed himself to fall into this ploy, thinking he and Twilight would never be separated?
Well . . . Spike thought grimly, he and Twilight had never expected something like this, nothing had ever hinted towards this possibility. There had never been any clue that Celestia planned more for Twilight than just being a student. Or . . . maybe Spike had simply been too young to have thought of it, too caught up in helping Twilight to have noticed what was happening. . . .
If only Spike had known . . . if only Princess Celestia had confided to him her great plan — the plan she made, perhaps, the moment she had met Twilight. Maybe . . . maybe he could’ve done more to prove his worth, could've used his time to become better than he was and show that he deserved to be with Twilight, princess or not.
But it was too late . . . there wasn’t any time left. The chance to prove his worth was gone . . . and so was Twilight. The terrible thing Spike saw behind that door back at the Crystal Empire was coming true and closing in on his life. There was no escape, there was no denying it. The nightmare was real and so was the awful truth that came with it.
He . . . he wasn’t needed any—
“Spike?”
