Pithos

“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.