Pithos

Chapters

A Lone Princess
Free Falling
Canterlot Castle

A Lone Princess

“Are there books about the old gods in your library?”

The funeral was, in a word, beautiful. It was held on Saturday afternoon, three days after Twilight arrived in Canterlot, and it appeared every pony from Ponyville, Canterlot, and several surrounding cities and towns had turned up to say goodbye to their princesses. Those who hadn’t made it up were watching on magical viewing screens across Equestria, with unicorns positioned on rooftops and near the mourning line to keep the spell going.

The griffons sent an ambassador, the Crystal Empire sent its celebrities, and even Manehattan had managed to send a few down to the funeral.

In short, it was everything Princess Twilight Sparkle had hoped the funeral would be.

And it was terrible.

For over an hour now, she had stood at the entrance to the large crowd, thanking ponies for coming, accepting their murmurs of well-wishing and sorrow, and handing out tissues and drinks for all those who came in crying. It was only her royal status that kept them from sobbing on her shoulders, for which Twilight was grateful.

It was another half hour before everyone had filed through the designated entrance to the City Centre, where Twilight Sparkle and several others would speak for the princesses. But even now, Twilight hadn’t seen her friends from Ponyville, although her friends from Canterlot had stopped to see how she was doing. Moondancer in particular had offered to be there for her after the funeral, and Twilight had been pained to say that, no, she had to return to Canterlot Castle alone.

With the murmuring of the ponies around her, Twilight trod up the steps and onto the stage overlooking all those who had attended. She took a deep breath, drew herself up to her full height, and began to speak.

“Citizens of Equestria, it is with great sorrow that I stand before you today,” started Twilight, looking over the massive crowd that spread from the streets and up into the floating stands and exclusive seating boxes. “Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and Princess Cadance have passed from our world in an act of unprecedented violence.” A few shocked murmurs ran up through the crowd. “But today we are not here to discuss such things – we are here to celebrate the lives and mourn the deaths of our great princesses.” Banners unfurled on both sides of Twilight, revealing a great tapestry of both Luna and Cadance. One behind Twilight unfurled as well, revealing Princess Celestia wielding the Elements of Harmony.

“Our princesses loved us. They protected us. And in turn we loved them as well.” Twilight fought back tears, kept herself composed, and looked over the crowd. “Princess Celestia was my mentor, Princess Luna was my friend, and Princess Cadance taught me about the importance of love in all its forms.” She bowed her head respectfully. “And I will never forget them.”

Taking another deep breath to calm her nerves, Twilight continued, “There are many people who wish to speak today, but I will leave you with this: our princesses taught us to be ourselves and that nothing was more important than loving who you are and what you do. By living on and enjoying every day and every night, we will honour their memories, forever and ever. In Celestia’s name, we remember.”

The ponies clapped, hooves stomping dirt, wood, and pavement alike, and Twilight stepped off stage. Shining Armor took his place on stage, his shoulders pulled tight and his eyes accented with bags that he hadn’t quite hid.

“Pri –” He stopped, cleared his throat, and continued. “Cadance was my wife, my best friend, and my partner. She taught me what it meant to fall in love, and that love took work and communication. Together, we were a force to be reckoned with.” His voice cracked, a sad smile splitting his neutral expression. “And I don’t know what I’m going to do without her.”

Shining Armor continued, eventually tearing up and having to leave the stage. No one blamed him. As others stepped on stage, Twilight was careful to keep count, but after so long she slipped away, knowing she still had at least an hour before she was needed once more.

Carefully, she picked her way through the streets of Canterlot, avoiding the gazes of what few ponies remained lingering at the edges. Most were in tears or in shock, some seemed to be in both. Twilight wasn’t sure where she fell.

“Twilight!” In the midst of her wandering and wondering, a voice called out to Twilight. The sound of many hooves approaching made her turn, as did the voice in question.

Approaching were her Ponyville friends, and it had been Rainbow Dash that had called out. They stopped in front of Twilight, each one looking more concerned than the last.

“Hello everypony,” said Twilight, shaking the sad thoughts of before from her mind. She still couldn’t manage a genuine smile.

“Hey sugarcube,” said Applejack. “How’re you holdin’ up?”

Twilight struggled to smile, let it fall, and slumped. “How do you think?”

Her friends surrounded her, pulling her into a tight hug for a few long, precious moments. Twilight relished each and every one.

“Funerals aren’t much like parties,” said Pinkie Pie. Her mane was slightly less curly than usual. “Everyone is sad and no one is dancing. All we do is talk and talk about people who are… who are gone.” Her lip trembled. “Why is everypony so focused on being sad? Princess Celestia wouldn’t want us to be sad. She liked parties.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “She’d want us to celebrate life.” Her voice broke and Twilight tugged Pinkie into a second, solitary hug.

“Oh, Pinkie,” she murmured into the other mare’s mane. “Funerals are sad because people we love are gone.” She released Pinkie, brushing a tear from her face as she did. “We’re allowed to be sad when people die.”

Bit by bit, Pinkie’s mane grew straighter, until it was almost as straight as Twilight’s. “I don’t like it.”

“Me neither,” said Twilight. She shook her head and closed her eyes for a second. “But today is a day about mourning.”

“And what about tomorrow?” asked Rarity. “You have so many duties now…”

“Rarity!” said Applejack. “Maybe Twilight doesn’t wanna talk about her duties.”

Rarity sighed. “I know, I know. But she simply must be exhausted.” Her gaze flicked to Twilight. “Aren’t you, dear?”

Twilight managed a weak smile, clicking one hoof against the cobblestone streets. “A little. But the sun and the moon are working on their own, which helps.”

“How in the hay does that work?” asked Rainbow Dash.

An image of Princess Celestia in the castle, dying, ripped into Twilight’s vision. Whispers of pillars reached her ears. But her mind focussed on the image of her princess, fallen. Her legs gave out. Twilight fell beside her princess.

“No!” she shouted, grabbing at her head. “No!”

“Twilight!” Applejack’s voice. Then Rainbow Dash’s. Then more.

“Twilight!” her friends called again.

A blink, a gasp, and Twilight returned to the present. Alone on the street except for her friends. Fluttershy stroked her mane. Applejack held her tightly.

“Shh,” whispered Applejack. “It’s okay, sugarcube, we got you; we got you.” Only then did Twilight realize she was crying. Tears slipped down her face and muzzle, dripping into Applejack’s mane and leaving her damp. She closed her eyes and buried her face in the soft mane, trying not to let the images of Princess Celestia overtake her mind.

“I saw her die,” croaked Twilight. “I saw her die and I couldn’t save her.” Quiet sobs tore themselves from her throat, cracking her voice. “I couldn’t save her.”

She felt the others circle around her. “We know you tried, Twilight,” said Rarity. “None of this is your fault.”

But it was. Twilight was the most powerful magic wielder in all of Equestria and even she couldn’t save the princesses when it had mattered most. If her magic couldn’t save her princesses, if her magic couldn’t keep Equestria safe, if her magic couldn’t save the people she loved, then what was it good for?

“Maybe when this is all over we can throw a party,” said Pinkie, her mane slowly re-curling. “Actually celebrate Princess Celestia and Princess Luna and Princess Cadance, not this sad talking stuff.” Twilight flinched at Pinkie’s words, curling away from her friends and shaking off their hooves.

“You’ll do it alone,” she said, trying to pull authority back into her tone. “I need to stay in Canterlot and attend to the duties of our fallen princesses.” Her mind flashed once more to Princess Celestia and the bodies of the others, lined up in a neat little row for the doctors. She flinched again.

“Pinkie, we ain’t throwin’ no parties,” said Applejack. Then, to Twilight, “You know she don’t mean nothing by it. Don’t shut us out, Twilight.”

“No,” said Twilight sharply. “You don’t get it. I’m the only princess left. After this funeral, I cannot go back to Ponyville.” She shook her head, struggling to keep her voice level. “I’ll never be able to go back to Ponyville. I have to represent cycles, day, night, love, friendship, and magic all at once now.” Her voice cracked. “I’ll be working for the rest of my life.” And it hit her then, in an instant, that Twilight had no idea if she was physically immortal like the other princesses had been.

“But what if I keep aging?” she whispered to herself. “What happens to everypony when I die?” And her mind sped off into the future, showing imagined scenes of Equestria falling, of griffons invading, of parasprites eating everything. The sun and the moon gone from the sky, leaving it grey forever and ever.

And would magic disappear with her?

“Twilight!” All five of her friends. Tears in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. Where was Spike?

“He’s at the castle, couldn’t face the funeral,” replied Rainbow Dash. And oh, it looked like she’d said that out loud.

“Twilight, please, let us help you,” said Fluttershy.

“Darling, you cannot do this on your own,” said Rarity.

Twilight shook her head. “None of you are alicorns. None of you are princesses.” Her face fell. “I’m sorry. I wish…” She wished they could help. But how could they? Twilight didn’t even have the magic of her fellow princesses to handle everything she had to do. Most of her friends didn’t even have magic.

And it wouldn’t be fair to ask them, even if they thought they wanted to. No one wanted the job Twilight had inherited. Not even her.

“The funeral is ending,” said Twilight, switching topics. She shook off her visible mourning, wiped her face, and regrouped herself. “I need to close it.”

“Twilight, please,” said Fluttershy. “Don’t shut us out. You need us and… we need you.” They had each other, Twilight told herself. All Equestria had was her.

She pushed passed her friends and back to the funeral to give her closing speech, telling herself that this was the right thing to do. No one deserved the burden she’d been given.

Within minutes, Twilight was back at the funeral, and not long after that she was walking across the stage to tell the world her final speech. Almost everypony she could see was crying and the brilliant shine of the sun illuminated the tears in their eyes until the gleam made Twilight queasy. She should be showing more emotion, she thought, so the ponies didn’t think she was heartless. She needed to stay strong, she also thought, so that the ponies could look to her for guidance.

Both beliefs ran a circling argument around one another as she began her final speech with the most authority she could manage.

“Princess Celestia rose the sun. Princess Luna rose the moon. Princess Cadance taught us to love. They all taught us to be ourselves. From unicorn to pegasus to Earth pony, they were the greatest teachers and the greatest leaders Equestria could have ever asked for.” She looked over the audience, letting her sadness seep into her eyes, but leaving it out of the rest of her body language.

“Our princesses are gone, but we live on,” she said. In the background of the crowd, she saw her friends watching her. Spike, despite his earlier absence, was now sitting on Applejack’s back. He was crying, big fat tears that rolled down his cheeks and splattered onto his shaking frame. Twilight swallowed hard. Her voice caught a moment, a weakness she hadn’t meant to show.

“We will live for them,” she said, and if her voice trembled a bit, she ignored it. “We will go on, for them. We will continue Equestria, for them. And we will give them justice. For we are not ponies to take anything lying down, and we are not ponies to believe that they are gone forever. Each of our princesses will live on in our hearts.”

She smiled, a soft, sad thing that just barely touched her eyes. “So long as we remember them, our princesses will never truly die. In Celestia’s name, we remember.”

“In Celestia’s name, we remember,” echoed the crowd. Thousands of whispers turned the sentiment into a dull thunder. Twilight nodded to the crowd, then bowed to each of the great banners.

Then, with the dull plodding of her hooves and the soft thump-thump of her heart in her ears, she walked off the stage, out of the funeral, and back to Canterlot Castle. And when she arrived, she told the guards that they were not to let any of her friends – yes, including Spike – into the castle. They were to go back to Ponyville without her.

Twilight would remain with her lists and her duties, trying to maintain balance and peace in the land of Equestria. But her friends deserved to be happy. Even with three princesses gone, Twilight knew they could be happy. They would throw parties. They would enjoy their time together.

In time, they would forget her.

It was for the best, Twilight reasoned. This burden was hers and hers alone. And she could not ask a pony that was not a princess to help her. There was simply too much to do. She wouldn’t be lonely. She wouldn’t be sad. She wouldn’t have time to miss them.

But standing alone in what was now her castle, looking up at the stained glass of all her friends, Princess Twilight Sparkle had never felt more alone. And she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had made a terrible, selfish mistake.

Free Falling

“Are the old tomes so decrepit that you can no longer read them?”

Two weeks passed after Twilight’s Ponyville friends went home. Each one had put up a fight – arguing, begging, crying, and screaming in turns. Fluttershy had tried reasoning with Twilight, only to leave, dejected. Applejack and Rainbow Dash had bargained, screamed, shouted, and banged at her doors before giving up. Rarity had slipped a note to the guards and left. Pinkie had to be dragged off by the others, refusing to believe Twilight would abandon them – she wasn’t sure what hurt more, the word, or the fact that Pinkie was right. She had abandoned them.

But the worst had been Spike. He’d stood outside the door to the castle for hours. He’d begged and pleaded to the guards, cried and screamed and thrown himself at the gates, tried to climb the castle itself to Twilight.

Nothing had worked. Spike had eventually left, exhausted and still crying, and Twilight had been left feeling like she’d abandoned her own child. She’d raised Spike, cared for Spike, taught Spike. Loved Spike. And she’d abandoned him, despite knowing that this was his worst fear.

It was for the best, she’d reasoned over and over. It was for the best. But more often than not Twilight couldn’t make herself believe it.

Couldn’t shake the doubt that she was simply shutting out her friends because she didn’t want them to see her like this. Didn’t want them to face the burden of the crown and help her.

It was selfish and selfless by turns. It was both and it was neither. It was a cycle Twilight lived every moment she had nothing to do. So she kept herself occupied, threw herself into the work of the kingdom, and struggled to keep both herself and Equestria afloat.

There were taxes to check on, ponies to listen to, and of course, the matter of the gemstones found in the pyre.

For the hundredth time since she had seen them, Twilight Sparkle turned to look at the gemstones on her desk. She sat in her study, surrounded by books and with the curtains drawn over the windows. Candles and a burning fireplace lit the room in soft yellow light. The deep brown of the bookcases clashed with the purple of her desk, something Twilight had never noticed with the windows open.

She found she didn’t much care.

The desk was stacked with books and with papers, as it always was, but at its centre were three gemstones. A topaz sun, an onyx crescent moon, and a turquoise heart. The three stones have been found in the ashes after the traditional royal pyre. One for each princess – each too similar to their cutie marks for Twilight not to be suspicious. She’d spent every minute of her spare time studying the gems and looking for clues in her library books.

But there were no books about dead princesses, because no princess had ever died before. And, before long, Twilight had grown frustrated and started throwing books out of windows. It wasn’t until several guards had returned them, knees quaking in fear, the Twilight realized what she’d been doing.

After that, she kept her outbursts contained in empty rooms away from the guards.

Twilight sighed, pulling herself back to the present, and stared at the gemstones that sat on her desk.

She said, “I need to figure out what these are.” Then she sighed again, shaking her head. Her mane – frizzy, un-brushed – hung in her face and she blew it back. She blew it back again when it refused to settle. The third time, she conjured a headband and shoved it over her bangs, forcing them back near her ears and letting her see.

“But the gemstones aren’t in the books,” said Twilight, leaning back in her chair. She rubbed a hoof over her face and waved the other one around. “And neither are the pillars that-” Her voice caught, she stumbled, swallowed, tried again. “That she mentioned.” Not perfect, but getting better. She wasn’t crying at the thought of the other princesses anymore at least.

Twilight glanced around the study, looking at the piles upon piles of books she had in the room. One was stacked so precariously she thought it might topple over at any moment.

She pushed back her chair and walked out of the room, wings drooping slightly and hair still a mess.

“I miss Spike,” she whispered. Her steps were mostly silent as she trod down the hallway. She turned into a service hall for maid ponies instead of taking the next corner. While the window with the broken stain glassed had been replaced, Twilight felt the new image lacked the magic of the old.

She ended up in the kitchen a few minutes later, though she wasn’t entirely sure how, and several ponies looked up when she entered. None said anything. Most gave her sympathetic or pitying looks. Twilight wished they’d stop. Tried to tell them. Found she didn’t have the energy for social interaction at the moment. She left the kitchen, drifting aimlessly through the hallways with nothing to anchor her to the world.

It was later – maybe an hour, maybe less, maybe more – when Twilight found herself in the throne room. She stopped in the middle, facing the thrones, and stared up at the banners of the three fallen princesses. The banners had been left up at Twilight’s request. The expressions on the princesses were both serene and confident, powerful but modest, and they held an otherworldly beauty and power that Twilight knew she would never be able to exhibit.

A cough from the left alerted Twilight. She startled, jerking around with her magic already touching the world around her. It died quickly when she realized it was only Flash Sentry. He held a scroll in a pouch on his back.

“A letter for you, Princess Twilight,” said Flash Sentry.

Twilight nodded, lifting the letter to herself. “Thank you,” she said. She unrolled the letter and recognized the handwriting immediately. It was Spike’s and the look of it – unfamiliar and familiar all at once – brought tears to her eyes and a tremble to her lip. The letter smelled of Ponyville and all at once, the world returned to Twilight.

The ground beneath her feet solidified. The air in the room smelled sweet with spring blossoms. The whistle of a breeze against the windows and the gentle murmurs of others in the castle nearby sounded like music in her ears.

“Princess Twilight Sparkle?” asked Flash Sentry. “Are you all right?” And she wasn’t. But she was. And his voice came through clearly. Her hearing – muffled by clouds and grief for weeks – cleared with the breeze. She could hear, she could breathe.

And it was all because her friends had gone against her wishes.

“Fine,” she managed, voice still cracking from the sudden wave of feeling.

Her eyes scanned the letter. Messages about what she’d been missing, about the Cakes and the Apples, about the Cutie Mark Crusaders and their cutie mark crusades, were detailed in Spike’s rolling script. There were mentions of how the others were doing, of how much they missed her, and Spike had taken the time to tell Twilight how he didn’t blame her for leaving them. He understood.

But then, he always had.

“Flash?” asked Twilight, grimacing when her voice caught again.

Immediately, the guard pony was at attention. “Yes, Princess Twilight?”

“I need you to find some parchment for me. I have a letter to write,” said Twilight.

“Yes, Princess Twilight.”

She headed for the door. “And bring it to my study, I have work to do.”

“Yes, Princess Twilight.”

Minutes later, and this time Twilight was sure on the time, the princess was up in her study once more. She flew the books back to their spots on the shelves, stacked those that belonged in the main library, and set to work on clearing her desk. The three gemstones remained on the desk, tucked to one side and arranged by size – the sun was largest, the heart smallest.

Flash Sentry appeared at her doorway a few minutes later, carrying parchment and ink. Immediately, Twilight pulled the materials from him and set to work on writing a letter to her friends.

She apologized for her blocking them out, for being selfish, and asked them if they wanted to come to the Canterlot Castle and help her with her search regarding the seven pillars of light – she mentioned briefly that they were great monuments of powerful magic in the world.

Before long, she had exhausted her parchment supply. Rolling up the parchment, she fastened it with the royal seal and passed it to Flash Sentry, who was still standing in the doorway.

“Could you have this sent to Ponyville for me?” asked Twilight.

Flash snapped a quick salute. “Of course, Princess Twilight Sparkle.” He followed her as the two left the room, heading down the hall toward the main library again. Twilight was ready to start her search about the pillars ago.

“If I may ask, Your Highness,” Flash started.

“Of course,” said Twilight.

“What is it that you are searching for in the library?”

Twilight hesitated, not because there was any reason not to tell him, but because she was unsure how to phrase it. After a few long moments in which the two plodded down the hallway in silence, Twilight managed to find the correct words.

“When…” Another hesitation, she forced herself to say the name. “Princess Celestia died,” her voice cracked, she ignored it and kept going, “she told me that there were seven great pillars of light across the planet and that each one held a portion of powers she and Princess Luna once had.” This time her voice only strained instead of cracking. Twilight quietly applauded herself. “She believed that I would need these powers in order to defeat what had killed the princesses.” Her voice trailed off at the end, but Twilight was proud of herself for managing that much. She hadn’t been able to say their names since the day of their funeral.

Flash nodded along with her story before speaking. “Do you know what killed them? Did they?” he asked.

“No,” said Twilight. She shook her head. “I wish I did, it would make this easier. But… Princess Celestia believed that it was from Tartarus.”

That got a reaction. Flash’s eyebrows shot up to his mane, his eyes growing wide and mouth falling open. “Tartarus?” he squeaked.

Twilight grimaced. “Yes. She said ‘the gates of Tartarus are open’.” Twilight frowned. “But with so many things held in Tartarus, there’s no way of knowing what exactly escaped. And I’m only one pony, and no one pony can search all of Canterlot’s library by herself.”

Flash nodded. The two stopped, now outside the library. “Well, if you ever need any help, I am at your beck and call.” He bowed, then looked up, smiling at Twilight.

“You’re sweet,” said Twilight. “Make sure that letter gets mailed.”

Flash saluted her. “Will do!” He galloped away and down the hall, his tail flying with the breeze. Twilight half expected him to leap into the air and fly out an open window. She was mostly grateful when he didn’t. Flash was sweet, she’d meant that, but she didn’t have time for romance anymore. Not with a prophecy of destruction and the death of her fellow royals hanging over her head.

Maybe in the future, far, far down the line, she could think about romance. But Flash had a crush on her now, and Twilight wanted nothing to do with that.

So, instead of focusing on his hopeful expressions and eager-to-please attitude, Twilight headed into the library and started conjuring forward books. Even with her Ponyville friends on their way, Twilight still had a lot of work to do on her own. She needed a solid footing in what they were doing before any goose chasing was to be done.

Now, if only she knew where to start looking.

Canterlot Castle

“Did your studies tell you the name of the first pony?”

The guards were missing from the castle. Twilight Sparkle noticed that before she saw anything else. No guards were at the entrance; no guards came out to greet her; no guards appeared as she made her way down the entrance hall of the castle. Her footsteps echoed down the expansive opening hall and ricocheted into the rafters, leaving Twilight feeling alone and more than a little apprehensive. There were always guards in the royal castle, no matter what the day or the occasion.

The sheer organization of it all had always impressed Twilight. Princess Celestia, despite her airy way of speaking and casual sense of humour, had a knack for organization that rivaled Twilight herself. Secretly, Twilight believed that was a large part of what made Princess Celestia such an incredible ruler.

And that, coupled with knowing the guards would have been alerted to Twilight’s arrival, left her uneasy as she trod through the entrance of the castle.

“Where is everypony?” she said to herself. Her words, despite their softness, echoed alongside her footsteps. Twilight flinched at the cacophony of sound that slammed into her ears over and over again.

She followed the halls toward the throne room, hoping somepony would be there. If not, Twilight reasoned, she could use the crystal ball Princess Celestia kept in one of the towers to find where the princesses were. Surely, Princess Celestia wouldn’t invite Twilight and Princess Cadance to her castle for lunch and then disappear. Even Princess Luna was not fond of such anxiety provoking pranks, knowing how they affected Twilight.

Besides, Twilight reasoned, it would take far too much effort to clear every guard and every serving pony from the castle solely to play a practical joke on Twilight. There simply had to be a logical explanation for the emptiness of the castle. But even with her reasoning, Twilight could still feel the fear beneath her skin clawing at her, trying to escape.

“Hello?” called out Twilight. The wall sconces were flickering, half of them out, and the long shadows of the hallway were accented by the faint light coming through the stained glass at the end of the hall. Angry storm clouds were rolling in over Canterlot, throwing the sun out of focus and leaving the grey-washed light to filter through the windows. It left the entire castle feeling dark and bleary. Even the stained glass seemed dimmer than usual.

Twilight felt a prickle on her neck and her magic seemed to scream within her horn and under her skin. For the first time since leaving Ponyville, Twilight wished Spike were next to her. He would have had the perfect joke to calm her fraying nerves.

“Something’s not right,” said Twilight, shaking her head. Her entire body shuddered as a shrieking wind whipped down the hall. Twilight rounded a corner to find that one of the stained glass windows was shattered. She reared up and away from the glass. Her whinny echoed down the hallway, half drowned by the shrieking of the oncoming storm winds.

The fractured stained glass lay spilled across the floor, its multi-colored fragments glistening in the grey-washed light. It took Twilight a moment to recognize the picture, and when she did, she could have cried. It was the picture of the four princesses together in the Crystal Empire. It was the only picture of the four princesses in one space, Twilight knew. And now it was gone.

Twilight flapped her wings and lifted over the glass. Touching down, she started galloping. The grey storm clouds, her panicked magic, the broken window - all of it pointed toward something horribly wrong. And the closer Twilight got to the throne room the more that feeling of unease and fear grew in her stomach until she was sure it would block out all other noise and feeling in her body.

The door to the throne room was unaligned and splintered. Twilight galloped past it, magic tingling in her horn, ready to face whatever had come to Canterlot Castle alongside the other princesses.

She skid to a stop at what laid before her. Her stomach churned. Her magic vanished. Twilight’s legs buckled and she feared she would collapse on the tiles.

Lying next to her throne was Princess Celestia. Her body was sprawled across the steps. Her mane was still, but its colors flickered. Her left foreleg was bent unnaturally and her eyes were glassy and unfocused.

And she laid in a slowly growing pool of her own blood.

On weak legs, Twilight stumbled toward her mentor with wide eyes and choked off breaths.

“Princess Celestia,” said Twilight, voice trembling. “What happened?” Her voice cracked on the last word.

Great wounds slashed open Princess Celestia’s flanks and back. One of her back hooves was cracked down the front. The longer Twilight looked a Princess Celestia, the more injuries she could find, and the sicker and more terrified she grew.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Princess Celestia turned her head toward Twilight Sparkle.

“Twilight,” she said. Her voice was low, hoarse. A whisper that was barely there. Her eyes went into focus only to fade again. But they remained on Twilight regardless.

“What happened?” asked Twilight.

A soft, pained smile crossed Princess Celestia’s face. “We were attacked. Unprepared, we fought back.” A laugh – bitter and exhausted. “We lost.”

Twilight’s eyes grew wider. “Princess Luna and Princess Cadance…”

“Dead.” Princess Celestia’s voice left no room for questions.

“No,” said Twilight. She dropped to the ground, her forelegs holding her up. “No, no, no!” A cry that could have been a whimper passed her lips. Tears slid down her cheeks and splattered onto the bloody tiles. “Why? Who?” Between sobs Twilight managed those few words.

A hoof reached up, brushing the tears from Twilight’s face. Princess Celestia gave Twilight a sad smile. The edges of her eyes were pinched and wrinkled with pain, exhaustion, and fear. The last one gave Twilight pause. Princess Celestia was scared. Princess Celestia was never scared.

“We don’t know,” said Princess Celestia. “Not yet. But I won’t be around to find out, Twilight.”

“No, don’t say that.” Twilight leapt up. “We can fix this! I can save you.” Alicorn magic burned across her horn, flashing it purple, green, and black in lightning bolts and angry blots.

“It’s already too late,” murmured Princess Celestia. And she was right. Despite her magic, nothing on Princess Celestia changed. Her wounds remained, still sluggishly bleeding, and the colour continued to drain from her mane. Why wouldn’t it work? Twilight couldn’t lose Princess Celestia. She just couldn’t. Twilight forced more magic through her horn, but it backfired, sending her skidding across the room. With swimming vision, Twilight stumbled back to Princess Celestia.

“This isn’t fair!” wailed Twilight. The magic died on her horn, but a few sparks leapt toward the shattered throne, exploding in purple streaks that lit up the shredded banners hanging from the ceiling. “You’re not supposed to die. None of you are. You’re…” Her voice trailed off. “You just can’t.” Princess Celestia blurred in Twilight’s vision as tears sprung to her eyes and slipped down her cheeks in twin streaks.

“I know, my dear Twilight, I know,” said Princess Celestia. Tears welled in the princess’ eyes as well. “But life is rarely fair, and rarer still to those who deserve it to be.” She smiled at Twilight, tears slipping down her damaged cheeks. “You never needed to see this, nor be part of it.”

“I won’t leave you,” said Twilight. The firmness in her voice shocked them both.

Princess Celestia closed her eyes for a moment, resting her head on the steps. “Thank you, my friend,” she whispered, before her eyes opened again.

Twilight reached out and stroked Celestia’s mane with shaking hooves. Her lip trembled from the effort of trying not to cry. Her shoulders quivered with barely contained sobs.

“Twilight, there are things about Equestria that you need to know before I go,” said Princess Celestia. With each word, Princess Celestia’s voice quivered just a little bit more.

Twilight’s hooves shook harder, but she kept stroking.

“There are seven great pillars of light spread across our planet. Each one contains powers that Luna and I long ago relinquished to live among the ponies of Equestria.” Princess Celestia paused to breathe. Each breath grew wetter than the last, leaving her sounding like she was sucking air through a wet paper towel.

“You must find these pillars,” continued Princess Celestia. “With Luna and I gone, there is no one left to protect them. The power in these pillars could devastate the planet.” She paused again and closed her eyes. Her broken foreleg twitched involuntarily, drawing a short, sharp cry from the princess. “Or the power could save us all.”

“From what?” asked Twilight.

Princess Celestia opened her eyes. “From what did this. Twilight, you must find the pillars of light. Within each one is an amulet. Protect these amulets with your life – it will be all that remains of the powers Luna and I used to protect Equestria. So long as these amulets exist, the sun and moon will rise, the world will spin, and everything will be fine.”

“Everything is not fine,” said Twilight Sparkle, shaking her head. Her voice was somewhere between a snap and a croak, half broken and half still trying to keep going.

Princess Celestia smiled and said, “No, but it could be. You are the last princess Twilight. It’s your job to protect Equestria now. Rule and love its ponies; protect and serve all you can; and find the pillars of light.” She grimaced. “I fear the gates of Tartarus have opened once more. And I believe Tirek was the least of our worries.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “What could be worse than Tirek?”

“Old gods,” replied Princess Celestia. “Luna and I locked away many corrupt gods in our early years. Each one controls a different aspect of the world, just as Luna and I controlled the sun and the moon. War, death, time, fear – all can be controlled by old gods. If one has left Tartarus, then they had help. And even one old god could devastate the planet.”

“But how do I stop them?”

“The pillars,” said Princess Celestia.

“But-” protested Twilight.

“The pillars will give you all the magic you need. Once you have found that magic, you will be able to take on many of the old gods. There are some that will need more power. But they should not have escaped.” Princess Celestia’s mane faded as she spoke until it was a dull grey. It did not glow again. For a long time, Princess Celestia did not move. As each second passed without movement or speech, Twilight grew more and more worried.

“Princess Celestia?” asked Twilight in a tight voice. She nudged the princess’ shoulder. “Princess Celestia!” More frantic then, harsher pushing. Fear ached beneath Twilight’s skin.

“Twilight,” murmured the princess.

“I’m here,” said Twilight, her voice barely above a whisper.

“My time has come to an end, my friend,” Princess Celestia murmured. “Never forget what I’ve taught you. Never forget how much you meant to me.”

Tears slipped down Twilight’s face. “I won’t,” she said in a croak.

“And promise me that you will win. That Equestria will not fall,” said Princess Celestia.

A broken sob passed Twilight’s lips. “I promise.”

“You must protect the ponies. You must find the amulets within the pillars. And you must, above all else… you must beware Pandora’s Box.” Princess Celestia’s voice trailed into a breathy tone before fading altogether.

“I will. I swear on my life and my magic that I will,” said Twilight.

Princess Celestia’s eyes opened one last time. “You’ve been an amazing student, Twilight Sparkle, and a better friend than I ever deserved.” She blinked – a drawn out thing that sent tears streaking down her face once more. “I love you, Twilight. You were always my little sister.” Her eyes closed.

“I love you too,” said Twilight, her shoulders shaking as the sobs finally shook themselves loose. Princess Celestia stopped breathing. Her mane and tail faded to pale pink.

And she was gone.

Twilight Sparkle bowed her head over Princess Celestia’s body and sobbed in earnest. Tears poured from her face and splattered the fallen princess and the bloody tilework. Her shoulders and wings shook so hard they ached. Every inch of her body and mind mourned until nothing else could enter Twilight’s consciousness.

It could have been minutes or hours before Twilight’s senses alerted her to someone else in the room. Immediately, she was alert. Her body, sluggish with crying and shaking, stood and swung around to face the intruders.

At the door were several Royal Guards. Each one looking more worried than the last.

“Princess Twilight?” asked one of them. His voice wobbled as he spoke.

Twilight forced herself to take a deep breath and let her magical aura vanish from sight. “Hello,” she said. She cringed at the scratchiness in her voice.

“What happened?” asked a guard. “We all just… woke up.”

Twilight took another deep breath before she spoke. “The princesses are dead. Princess Celestia, Luna, and Cadance were killed. Princess Celestia was… still alive,” her voice cracked, “when I arrived here. She told me she did not know what had done this. And that I was to stop it.”

The guards nodded. Their eyes went from Twilight to the – to the body behind her. She grimaced again. Thoughts and heart and breath stuttering. Why did it have to be them? But all three continued on. Her duties as a princess were needed.

“What do we do?” asked a guard.

“Find Princess Luna and Princess Cadance’s bodies. We will hold a funeral for the three princesses this weekend.” Her legs began to shake and Twilight locked them, holding her trembling chin high and biting down to keep herself looking collected.

“And find me some parchment. I need to contact my friends…” She grimaced. “And my brother.”

“Right away Princess Twilight,” said a guard.

Another one, which Twilight recognized as Flash Sentry, stepped forward as the others filed out of the room. “If you need anything, Your Highness…” He trailed off, shook his head, and left the room.

Twilight took a long moment after the guards left to allow herself to breathe and shake. She turned back once, to look at her fallen mentor, and then left the room to retire to her own quarters. Tomorrow, the world would spin again. Tomorrow, she would command all of Equestria. But tonight, Twilight Sparkle was not a princess nor a ruler. She was just a mare, and she would mourn the loss of her princesses – an enemy turned friend, a mentor turned sister, and a foal-sitter turned family.

They had made her who she was. They had always believed in Twilight, no matter the circumstances. And now, in the wake of their deaths, much was to be done. But Twilight could mourn them for one night.

They deserved at least that much.