Sugar Valley

A bright, dazzling light is the first thing Twilight sees upon opening her eyes. She reaches a forehoof up to rub them, and the blinding light fades from the room, replaced by the soft glow of several candles placed about. The second thing Twilight notices is her forehooves themselves; washed fur, and mending cuts.

“Twilight?”

The princess winces as she props herself up enough to see where the voice is coming from, a tinge of disbelief in her eyes when she finds them.

Celestia leans against the opposite end of the bed Twilight rests in, eyes edged with tears.

“Oh, Twilight!”

Princess Celestia races to meet her pupil, gently wrapping her forehooves around the young alicorn’s neck. At first, Twilight is unsure of how to respond, feeling confused and terribly drowsy, unsure if it was even real or not. But slowly, her own hooves rise over the shoulders of Celestia, and Twilight learns for certain that it’s real.

“I’m so glad you’re okay…”

The smaller mare’s eyes open after a long moment of basking in the embrace.

“The others? What happened?”

Celestia hesitates to respond, eventually pulling away from her student to face her and the truth.

“Your journey was taking longer than expected, and when we heard news of another one of Lane’s prisoners discovered at a camp near Sugar Valley, Luna and I immediately set out to determine the status of your efforts.”

Twilight’s eyes continue to peer into Celestia’s for the answer she wants, but is afraid to hear.

“...We were too late.”

The words hit Twilight like a blade, the mare glancing solemnly down at the bed beneath her.

“...You and Applejack were the only ones we could save.”

Twilight’s eyes shoot back up.

“Applejack is still alive?”

A simple nod from Celestia is more than enough to elicit some matter of relief in Twilight.

“We had to revive her; she had an infection on her leg that if gone longer untreated would’ve almost certainly been fatal. But the doctors tell me she’s due for a recovery now; I have the best in Canterlot watching over her.”

The bed creaks as Twilight lifts herself all the way up, the mare determined to head off.

“I’ve got to see her—”

An ivory forearm extends out to gently restrain Twilight, who almost immediately groans in pain at the sensation of her muscles moving.

“Twilight, please; you need rest. You’ve been unconscious for days, and a large amount of recovery magic still pulses through your veins.”

The violet alicorn leans back into her bed and closes her eyes, frustrated by the numbness in her body. When she again opens them, she tilts her head to watch the table next to her, which is filled with cards and flowers left by a myriad of ponies.

“I’ll go get the doctor, and if she thinks you’re ready, then we’ll get you out of here.”

Princess Celestia prepares to leave the room while Twilight stairs tiredly at the newly acquired cast she’s wearing. Pausing at the door, Celestia eventually draws the attention of her student again, gifting her a warm, teary-eyed smile.

“I’m so glad you’re back.”

Silence fills the room, Twilight unsure of a response. The pony can’t shake the images of her closest friends, their expressions frozen with the same bitter-sweetness Celestia displays her now.

Eventually, Twilight musters a small smile in response to her mentor, hoping that would be enough. As the older alicorn leaves the room, Twilight again turns to the table at her side, rotating one of the many cards toward her so that can read its message, a short but sweet note hoping for her recovery. The princess reads the name beneath the note, narrows her eyes, then reads it again. She isn’t sure, but suspects that she had never met the pony in her life.

* * *

The evening is a blur of concerned faces and cautious hugs, Twilight relieved to be in Canterlot to experience it all. Perhaps the most distraught pony she confronts is Shining Armor, who’s unusually scraggy appearance suggest that he had received very little rest in the past few days. Even amidst her reassurance, Twilight couldn’t shake the feeling that her brother had cast blame on himself, leaving the colt with an internal struggle.

No longer able to bare the sight of so many smiling ponies admit how thankful they are she’s returned safely, Twilight instead seeks out the company of her closest friends. She stands quietly before one of four monoliths, Pinkie Pie’s cutie mark engraved near the top. The weather team were busy preparing for a storm, large brooding clouds casting slowly moving shadows over the otherwise sun-bathed courtyard.

“I’m sorry, Princess…”

Twilight doesn’t turn toward the voice, instead maintaining her long stare at one of the other monuments.

“...It looks like there was a mistake in the engraving, the dates are wrong on—”

“No.”

The princess turns just enough so that the side of Pinkie’s grave is visible, the shadow of the guard on the ground before it.

“The dates are correct.”

The guard takes a small step back, his years of servitude to Canterlot overriding his confusion and curiosity.

“Understood.”

Twilight Sparkle continues to watch one of the other large stones; one embossed with butterflies, and standing tall before a draconequus with his head hung low.

The soft clip-clop on the marble does little to alert the slim creature as Twilight approaches from behind, a slight hobble in her walk.

“Hi Discord.”

The Lord of Chaos spins around in shock.

“Oh, Princess Twilight! I heard you were awake and I was just on my way, when…”

Twilight waves a hoof.

“I could barely breathe in there, all those ponies up to see me. I’m happy to be out in the fresh air.”

The base of the monolith draws Twilight’s eye as silence between the two ensues. Magic had sunk into the speckled stone, leaving flowers and grass to protrude out with abnormal life. Twilight takes a step closer to the scene, so that she can stand side-by-side with Discord. The draconequus tilts his head ever so slightly away from the mare; perhaps so that the tears are less evident.

“I’m sorry about the…”

Discord lifts a shaky claw toward the plants.

“...I didn’t really realize what I was doing.”

The princess glances over to her friend with a small smile on her muzzle.

“Don’t worry about it; she would have liked it.”

The scene again grows quiet as Discord begins to fidget with his fingers, and Twilight gets lost in the smooth, mastercrafted stone. A gentle breeze blows through the fur of the two friends as a large, shapeless shadow rolls over the monolith. Eventually, Twilight’s lips slowly part, and the mare breaks the silence.

“...She always saw the good in you...”

Discord glances up from his hands, but remains quiet.

“...even when none of us did.”

The Lord of Chaos’ eyes begin to grow noticeably red as the two remain next to each other. Twilight turns to look up at the draconequus, her brows arched in concern.

“I’m sorry, Discord.”

A quivering smile grows on Discord, and the creases catch a single tear that rolls down his face.

“It’s okay.”

Twilight turns her attention back to the stone in front of her, heart aching for her friend. The two remain alone for a while in the vast memorial, the sprawling fields and farmland of Equestria visible just beyond the marble railing.

* * *

The soft, pleasant sound of rain coming down in sheets can be heard just outside the hospital, the window next to the princess distorted with the constant pouring. Twilight is transfixed on the door in front of her, wide open so that it reveals just the foot of the bed in the room inside. The mare brushes the frayed brim of her headware—a worn ten-gallon hat made with a black material—then steps through the doorway into the patient’s room.

Twilight freezes at the sight of her friend lying in the bed, head propped up and eyes half open. A tinge of relief flares up within Twilight; although one that’s completely overshadowed by a sense of heartache. After collecting herself, the mare slowly approaches the side of Applejack’s bed and removes her hat.

“Hey Applejack.”

The earth pony utters no response, nor even gives an indication that she hears her friend. Twilight knows this is due to the strong magic that’s subdued her, in the interest of a painless recovery.

“I uh… brought you something.”

Twilight looks sheepishly down at the worn hat hanging from her forehoof.

“I know it’s not really like your old one; of course black was the only color they had…”

A steady hoof places the hat on the table next to Applejack’s bed, where the princess notices several cards standing. One from the princesses, one from the rest of the apple family, and a hoof-made card from Applebloom specifically.

The alicorn tilts her head back toward Applejack, watching the steady, rhythmic breathing in her chest.

“The whole thing feels like a nightmare. The things she did…”

There’s a brief pause in Twilight’s monologue, even though her mind has no trouble imagining the words to come next.

The things that I did…

A violet, scarred hoof makes its way up to the edge of the bed, where it comes down to lay across Applejack’s own forehoof. Twilight holds it there while listening to the quiet storm outside. After a long moment of the two sharing the silence, the alicorn’s eyes begin to grow misty, and Twilight sheds a tear for the first time since Sugar Valley.

“I close my eyes—and it’s all I see…”

Twilight grips her friend’s hoof tighter as she continues with a shaky voice.

“The lights, the creatures…”

A second tear makes its way down the dry half of Twilight’s face.

“I see our friends, Applejack. Their lifeless faces—”

Twilight’s voice gets caught in her throat, and she hangs her head while fighting the urge to break down. When her muzzle rises again, it rises with red eyes and a runny nose. The princess keeps parting her lips like she’s ready to say something, but struggles to make more than a quiet whimper. When she does finally manage to talk, it’s in a strained, hoarse voice that comes out in between the sniffling.

“I don’t know what to do…”

The alicorn leans in against the bed, her arched back shaking as she cries into the space between her and her friend.

“I’m so scared…”

Rain continues to pour over Canterlot in great excess, the calming sound of its descent filling the room, and the halls that lie beyond. Twilight Sparkle stays in the room with the earth pony until the last of the raindrops fall sparsely beyond the windows, and the city is once again lit by the sun’s brilliance.

* * *

Mist envelopes the area around the bridge as Twilight stands alone at its ledge, watching the colossal falls before her. The chilled air and gentle breeze relaxes the princess, who shuts her eyes and allows the powerful sound of the falls to hold her in a trance.

“Twilight—”

The alicorn yelps, her phantom wings extending out as she spins to escape the claw that just settled on her leg. Spike stands frozen on the bridge with her, pupils dilated and claw raised away from Twilight.

“Sorry…”

Twilight relaxes her muscles and waits for her breathing to steady.

“It’s fine, just…”

The mare shakes her head, deciding it’d be better to just move on.

“How’s your drink?”

Spike looks down at the cup in his claw, the plastic covered with stylized lemons.

“It’s good. Not sure if I can finish it all, but—oh! Your bits!”

Spike offers a pair of coins to Twilight, who shakes her head in response.

“Keep it.”

The dragon makes a confused face, then retracts his arm and manages a small smile.

“Oh; thanks!”

Twilight returns the smile, then tilts her head back toward the falls, again almost immediately mesmerized by its motion.

“Is it what you imagined?”

After first taking a quick sip of his drink, Spike walks up to the railing next to Twilight and peers over the edge with her.

“It’s way bigger than I imagined. I don’t think anyone could have imagine this, actually. You really have to see it to believe it.”

The princess leans into the railing, silently agreeing with her assistant as she continues to stand in awe of the scene’s natural beauty. Nearly the entire horizon was alive with motion, seemingly infinite amounts of water bombarding the river below. It was pleasant to be so distracted by something; so much so, Twilight allows the world around her to again slip away, the young dragon turning toward his mentor and raising a brow.

“...Twilight?”

One last breath of the fresh, humid air is inhaled by the princess, before it’s slowly released in a drawn-out exhale.

“Alright… let’s head back to the hotel.”

Spike takes the lead as the two make their way off of the bridge, leaving behind the resplendent view of the falls. Although a small limp remained, Twilight is thankful for the lack of a brace on her hind leg, every hair on her coat and mane receiving the air’s light shower. The two begin their lengthy journey back to the hotel, as the falls continue their thunderous descent into the wild rapids below.

* * *

The wet grass sloshes beneath every step Twilight takes toward the figure in the distance, a shovel held in his sparkling blue telekinesis.

“...Starswirl?”

The bearded unicorn looks up, the bells on his hat making a soft jingle with the sudden motion.

“Ah, Princess Twilight Sparkle! Good to see you again.”

Twilight approaches the scene curiously, noticing that Starswirl stands up to his elbows in a large pit.

“Sorry to hear about your friends, Princess.”

The alicorn flaps her wings a few times to shake out the water.

“It’s fine.”

Starswirl gives his friend a small smile and a nod, then uses his magic to resume digging the hole. Twilight twists her face in confusion while quietly watching the elder unicorn.

“I thought I wouldn’t be seeing you anymore; after I returned home, I mean.”

The shovel slides into the dirt once more with a strangely soothing noise.

“Oh, I think I might be hanging around for a bit more, if that’s alright with you.”

Twilight doesn’t answer, instead refocusing her attention on the ground above Starswirl. There in the wet grass lies a plain wooden casket, just next to the growing pile of dirt. The mare looks back down into the pit, and continues to watch the bearded unicorn work.

“You know you don’t have to do all this, Canterlot is handling all of the arrangements.”

Starswirl responds to the princess while shoveling out more dirt.

“This—hmpf—isn’t for your friend.”

The mare standing at the edge of the pit cocks her head.

“Well who’s is it?”

The shovel is thrust once more into the ground before Starswirl releases his telekinetic grasp on it, and turns to look up at the princess.

“It’s yours.”

Twilight goes quiet, mouth hanging agape as Starswirl resumes his efforts. After a short moment, the mare seals her lips; and with only the sound of the shovel against dirt to listen to, she gives the bed under the stallion’s hooves another look.

It does look rather comfortable.