Stained Glass
Chapter 1
Admiral Biscuit
The six Element bearers and Spike admired the stained glass window that bore Spike’s visage. He stood triumphant, one claw reaching for the Crystal Heart: a moment of victory that would not soon be forgotten—the salvation of the Crystal Empire plainly placed in the Hall of Heroes for everypony to see.
“Oh, Spikey-wikey has his very own memorial window now,” Rarity gushed, running a hoof across his crest. “Such a brave little dragon!”
Rainbow muttered something and turned away from the mushy garbage Rarity was spouting. Sure, Spike had a stained glass window, but she was in, like, three of them. Or was it four? She began counting the windows. There was one for defeating Nightmare Moon, one for re-imprisoning Discord, and of course, the changeling invasion. There should have been one for her sonic rainboom. Why, she probably had more windows than Commander Hurricane!
She began flying down the hallway, looking intently at the windows, studying them carefully. Not all of the images were entirely clear—especially to a pegasus who'd napped through most of her history classes—which was why there were brass plaques underneath each, naming the heroes and the event.
Finally reaching the end of the hall, she discovered no windows featuring Commander Hurricane. With a slightly sour look on her face, she flew back to rejoin the group.
“How come there aren’t more windows?”
“Ah shucks, don’t ya think your ego’s big enough already?”
Ignoring the barb, she turned to Twilight. Surely the egghead would know the answer. Of course, her eyes were kind of distant—she was looking at the window but not really seeing it. Rainbow waved a hoof in front of her face, yet elicited no response. “Hey, Twilight—how come there aren’t more stained glass windows?”
Ten Years Ago
“How are your classes?”
Twilight gently set the teacup on its saucer, priding herself as always at not sloshing the tea. “Um. . . “ She hated it when Celestia asked that. It always felt like a test to make sure she was keeping up with her studies, and she was. She’d read ahead in all her books, and was already practicing spells that were several levels above her peers. The only sour note was gym class: while she’d found books with all sorts of helpful tips, they were of little use in actually conveying the psychomotor skills needed to successfully score a point in hoofball. It didn’t help that it was against the rules to use magic, and Twilight kept forgetting, especially when the ball came towards her face. On the other hoof, she wasgetting really good at casting shield spells on the fly.
Celestia was still regarding her with a curious look. Twilight blushed, realizing she hadn’t answered the question. “Um, well, Literature class is good. We’re reading Withering Heights, and I’ve already written a scroll on the symbolism of the protagonist’s struggle against the dominant mare. Trigonometry is a breeze, so I started doing calculus for fun. We’re doing advanced telekinesis in casting class, and I can already move the biggest stone on the field a few inches. Then there’s gym and lunch follows which is really good, they had alfredo pasta today but I didn’t have any because I didn’t want to get any sauce on my book so I just had whole-grain toast instead. After lunch I have a free hour which I spent in the library, then another casting class, and then history. I read ahead in the book a little bit, to where the Canterlot castle was built. It said that there was a stained glass window which commemorated Commander Hurricane installed in the hall leading up to the throne room, and later it said that more windows were added and it was called the Hall of Heroes. I looked, though, and I couldn’t find the window, and the book didn’t say what had happened to it.”
Celestia chuckled softly. “History books don’t always tell the whole story, Twilight.” She looked down at the unicorn gently. “I could meet you at the main gate tomorrow after school and show you. Would you like that?”
“Would I?” Twilight would have leapt from her seat in excitement if she hadn’t already suffered through a semester of etiquette class. “Of course I would!”
The Present
“Hey, Twilight. Hey! Twilight!”
She snapped her head around, the memory fading. “What, Rainbow?”
Rainbow took a step backwards, surprised by the harshness of Twilight’s voice. “Er. Twilight?”
“Sorry.” Twilight smiled disarmingly. “I was thinking.”
“I could tell,” Dash muttered. “Hey, Twilight, how come there aren’t more stained glass windows? There aren’t any with Commander Hurricane, and she was, like, the greatest pegasus ever.”
“Oh!” Twilight brightened. “Right! There are, but they’re not all in the Hall of Heroes. They wouldn’t all fit!”
“I guess that makes sense.” Rainbow looked up and down the walls. “So, what, is there a stained glass window library or something?”
“No,” Twilight said soberly. “Not a library, but a museum.”
Ten Years Ago
True to her word, Celestia met Twilight at the front gate of her School for Gifted Unicorns. She was surrounded by a small gaggle of teachers, all pressing her for questions, but they moved aside when Twilight approached.
“Are we going to the Stained Glass Museum?” Twilight asked eagerly.
A small smile crossed the Princess’ lips. “We are indeed, my faithful student. Tell me, how long did it take you to find what it was called?”
“Almost all of my lunch break,” she said. She’d rushed there as soon as gym class was over, eagerly browsing through books about Canterlot. It had taken her most of the hour to realize that a tourist’s guidebook would be her most helpful resource. There were so many fascinating places in the city, she wondered if she’d ever have time to visit them all; even the castle still held surprises.
“We ought to stop by Donut Joe’s on the way,” Celestia said. “I think you’ll like it.”
• • •
One strawberry-frosted donut and cup of cocoa later, Twilight and the Princess soon found themselves in front of the Stained Glass Museum. It was tucked back a little way off the street, with a tidy garden in the front, but aside from the small sign in front of the building, it could have been almost anything.
“I’m afraid we won’t be able to see it all in one day, Twilight. But of course you can come back whenever you wish. The museum is open to all citizens of Equestria.”
As they were walking up the marble steps, Twilight looked up at her mentor. “Why haven’t you kept all the windows in the castle? It’s bigger than the museum; surely they all would have fit somewhere.”
Celestia chuckled. “I think it’s better for ponies to focus on the more-recent past, so I have reserved the Hall of Heroes only for those ponies who have done brave deeds in living memory. I—it’s complicated to explain, but it would be unfair to those ponies who work in the castle, or those who come there looking to the future, were it to be a stale monument to the past.
“At the same time, it is important that we remember where we’ve been, and honor those brave ponies who brought us where we are today, and this museum does that.” She lit her horn and opened the front doors for Twilight.
Twilight looked around the lobby eagerly. The room was a simple open chamber, with a small information desk in the center, and a bored-looking curator examining her hooves seated behind it. She jerked to attention as soon as she saw the Princess.
From reading the guidebook, Twilight knew that the museum was made up of a series of large interconnected hallways surrounding an open courtyard. She also knew that the more central halls held the oldest windows, and that the outermost ring was incomplete. To her frustration, she hadn’t managed to finish the book before lunch ended, and had had no opportunity after that.
She’d been thinking about it all the way over. Should she ask to be led around the oldest ring—where the windows dated back to the very founding of Equestria—or the outer ring, where the more contemporary windows were placed? Or should she pick a middle hallway? More importantly, what would the Princess think of whatever choice she made?
“Perhaps you’d like to see entry to the Hall of Unicorns?” Celestia prompted. “There are several nice windows dedicated to Starswirl the Bearded there.”
“Yes!” Twilight closed her eyes, trying to remember which wing contained the Hall of Unicorns. It was on the left . . . was it the second or third corridor?
When she opened her eyes again, she realized that the Princess was across the room already. Twilight galloped after her, frustrated by her short legs. Next year, she’d learn the spell to teleport—she’d already tried to study it on her own, but it was far too complicated for her to wrap her head around. There were so many difficult variables that went into the casting of the spell, and if it was done wrong, it just sucked up a lot of magical energy without accomplishing anything.
At the sound of galloping hooves, the Princess paused, waiting for Twilight to catch up. As she led the filly into the first room, she began explaining. “Most of the halls have an entry chamber, and they’re generally just decorative windows which feature appropriate themes.”
Twilight looked at the windows in wonder. Over the years, she’d grown accustomed to the ones in the Hall of Heroes, but that chamber was big enough that they fit in properly. Here, in a narrower corridor, the windows seemed to reach impossibly tall, and she realized that she’d have to back up to fully appreciate them.
The book had told her that all of the windows in the main part of the museum were fitted with light-crystals so that they would glow pleasantly regardless of outside conditions.
“That window dates back to pre-unification,” Celestia began. “It shows a tribe of earth ponies giving tribute to the unicorns, in return for the unicorn council raising the sun.” She pointed to a hole near the top. “It was broken in the siege of Fillydelphia, and never repaired—at the time, the unicorns didn’t know how to make colored glass. That was an earth pony skill.
“They kept it in their council chambers for nearly a generation before I ordered that they remove it. It sent the wrong message, I felt—it was not about unity and harmony, but about slavery.”
“Why is it here? If it sends a bad message, wouldn’t it be wisest to destroy it?”
“No, Twilight. We cannot change the past, as much as we might like to. It is better to serve as a reminder of why the old way of doing things had to change than to hide it and pretend that it never happened.” She paused for a moment and pointed towards the next window. “Now, this one is a tribute to scrollwork in general. The spell which is shown on the glass is said to bring good luck to the caster, and many a generation of student has cast that very same spell on herself before an examination.”
Twilight hastily skimmed the words. They nagged at her mind; she’d seen a similar spell before—but something was missing from this one. “Princess, I don’t think this spell could work. There’s no effect, just a target. If a mare were to cast it, all it would do is make her horn glow before the spell fizzled.”
Celestia smiled. “Most unicorns aren’t as studious as you, and never noticed that.”
Rather than continue to hallway of unicorns, Twilight headed back towards the main foyer. “Can we look at the others? Before I have to choose?”
“Of course.”
• • •
They went next to the pegasus entryway. Both sides were flanked with portraits of Commander Hurricane. In the first, he was standing proudly atop a cloud, with an entire pegasus hipparchy arrayed behind him. Twilight moved in close, taking in the details of the image—the artisan had painted fine details on the stained glass, and even though time had faded the image somewhat, it was still easy enough for her to imagine what the window had looked like in its heyday.
Across the hallway, the image was still martial. This time, neat ranks of earth ponies dressed in heavy armor were lined up on the ground, while soaring above them was Commander Hurricane.
“The Hearth’s Warming Pageant is not entirely accurate,” Princess Celestia said quietly. “Simply a foal’s tale, although the moral is worth knowing.”
“There wasn’t an endless winter?”
“Oh, there was, and the tribes feuding did empower the Windigos. But they did not resolve their differences in a cave, but rather on a battlefield.” She pointed to the first window. “It wasn’t until long after unification that the first pegasus got her cutie mark in glassmaking. So both of these were made by earth pony craftsmares, in honor of the peace treaty between the pegasi and earth ponies. You see, the pegasi needed a source of food, and the earth ponies were tired of fending off their raids. I do not know who first proposed an alliance against the unicorns, but that was a turning point, as there were now two tribes guarding the diminishing food sources.”
Twilight considered that. She’d never really thought too much about where her food came from, but now that she was thinking about it, she could see how the earth ponies and the pegasi had a clear symbiotic relationship. “Are all their windows about war?”
“Not all of them, but the pegasi do glorify great deeds, and most of their windows reflect that.” Celestia nuzzled her student. “Do you wish to see the earth pony entryway before you make up your mind?”
Twilight shook her head.
“You do not?”
“I’ve already made up my mind—I want to see the earth pony hallway.” Twilight took a breath. “They invented stained glass, right? So that means that everything else in the museum comes from that, and I think I’ll understand it best if I start from the beginning.”
She lead the way back to the main foyer, then looked up and down the halls, trying to orient herself. She hadn't had time to fully examine the tourist guide, but she thought she could remember the map. The earth pony hallway was all the way on the left.
Just to be safe though, she let Celestia lead her down the hallway. In case she was wrong.
The teacher and her student stopped in front of a small alcove. It was flanked on either side by tall stained glass windows, both depicting earth ponies working the land. Twilight knew by their clothes and the farm buildings in the background that the scene depicted was post-unification. That struck her as odd: her logical mind would have put the oldest windows at the front, yet she knew that the earth ponies had been crafting stained glass windows for centuries before the unification. Some of them, she knew, had been given to the unicorns as tribute.
She didn't mean to mention it, but she couldn't help herself:Twilight was a curious pony. "Why aren't the oldest windows first?"
Celestia chuckled. "As the head curator of the museum says, they aren't as 'aesthetically pleasing,' but I will let you be the judge of that." She pointed a hoof towards the window on the left. "This one depicts the harvesting of an alfalfa field, and was made in honor of Lucerne Sprout, who founded the River’s Bend settlement. And right beside it, the first pear harvest in Sunny Meadows. Maquette and Flashed Glass were always such rivals, and tried to outdo each other with their windows.”
Twilight studied the windows. She wasn't very familiar with farming; the palace had plenty of gardens, but she was aware those weren’t the same as farms. Sometimes, on a particularly clear day, she could look out a palace window and see some distant fields checkerboarding the landscape, although they were much too far away to make out any details.
She also was not a student of botany; however, even a neophyte like her could tell that the plants represented were all distinct species. It struck her as an interesting insight into the mindset of earth ponies: that they would put such minute detail into the stained glass window. "Were the two windows made at the same time?"
Princess Celestia shook her head. "No. The window on the left was made first, by ponies in River’s Bend, and upon hearing of it, the ponies of Sunny Meadows decided to send a representative to see it and then make a better window." She pointed a hoof at the small brass plaque underneath the window. "The whole story is there."
Twilight looked at the plaque, and thought about reading it. Then she thought about the Princess standing next to her, and thought about how easily she could spend the day or more reading about the windows. She would have liked to, but deep inside she felt that the opportunity to visit at least some of the museum in the company of her mentor was an opportunity not to be squandered. She could learn about the windows from somepony who had been there when they were made, who perhaps knew things about them that the history books would never say.
In a rare moment of wisdom for such a young filly, Twilight shook her head. "I can come back and read it later, Princess."
Princess Celestia beamed at her, and let her through the archway. "This is the oldest known stained glass window."
Twilight looked at it. It was what her art teacher might've called ‘primitive.’ The design looked like something a foal might make. The colors were garishly bright, and the form was abstract. If it was meant to represent anything, Twilight couldn't figure out what.
"That window is older than I am," Princess Celestia said.
Twilight looked at it with newfound respect. It might be ugly, but it was very, very old.
"It decorated a granary in the pre-unification lands. The tribe gave it to us as a gift after we took the throne."
The next window was easier to understand. It depicted an earth pony family tending their fields, and Twilight started to wonder if all the stained glass windows were going to be of earth ponies caring for their lands.
As they went on, however, the windows depicted other scenes. Other ponies. Heroic warriors. Leaders. Explorers. And, on one occasion, just an ear of corn.
Throughout it all, Princess Celestia gave a small summary of the window, who it had been made for—if that was known—and when it had been given to the Crown.
In most cases, she even knew the artisan who had created it.
Twilight took it all in, absorbing the history like a sponge. She’d never really thought about just how old Equestria was. She’d never really thought about how old the Princess was.
There were some ponies she knew already—every foal knew the names of Chancellor Puddinghead and Smart Cookie—but there were so many names she’d never heard; so many ponies who had been important enough to warrant a stained glass window in their honor and yet would be otherwise forgotten.
When they finally reached the end of the hall, the Princess leaned down and nuzzled her. "I think we've seen enough of the museum for one day. I have my royal duties to attend to, and I wouldn't want to make your mother upset by keeping you past your dinner time."
She had been feeling a little bit of hunger, but she’d pushed that to the back of her mind. A learning opportunity like this was more important than dinner. “Can we come back?"
"Yes, my faithful student. Shall we meet here again in one week's time?"
Twilight nodded.
Author's Note
Pre-reading by AShadowOfCygnus, MSPiper, and metallusionismagic.
Stained Glass
Chapter 2
Admiral Biscuit
“I don't get why they can't keep Commander Hurricane's windows in the palace,” Rainbow grumbled. “It's really big, and there are lots of rooms with windows that just have clear glass in them. It doesn't seem like it would be that much effort to replace them with stained glass windows.”
“There would be far too many, even with all the windows in the palace.” Twilight followed a familiar path through Canterlot. Their friends had stuck with them until they’d reached Donut Joe’s, then they'd parted ways.
“How many famous ponies are there anyway?” Rainbow half-closed her eyes in contemplation. “Six in the pageant. Maybe a dozen really famous Wonderbolts . . . so, like, there shouldn't be more than forty or so ponies worthy of a stained glass window.”
Twilight chuckled softly, thinking of all the ponies who'd never made their mark on a history book and were nevertheless memorialized on a window. However, it was one thing to simply say so—and Rainbow would likely scoff if she did—and yet another to let her see it for herself, so Twilight changed subjects. “You'd be surprised. On your mental quick list, did you think to include Daring Do?”
Rainbow dropped down next to Twilight. “Are you saying that Daring Do has a stained glass window?”
Twilight nodded. “She’s on a window.” Admittedly, it was a stretch: the window primarily depicted Daring's grandparents. But their foals and grandfoals were included in the border, and—as Rainbow would say—that totally counted.
She couldn't wait to see the look on Rainbow's face when she examined that particular window.
On their way, Twilight hesitated once, uncertain which street the museum was on. She solved the dilemma not by thinking, but by going on instinct: she’d never turned before passing the apothecary, she remembered as they walked by its windows.
Her smile faltered as the museum drew into view. It wasn't as big as she'd remembered. It didn’t seem likely that it had shrunk in the intervening years, so it could only be a matter of time passing and her growing up.
It was hard to put into words what the building meant to her. As a filly, she'd never consciously noticed the trace of sadness on Princess Celestia's face as they toured the building together, and yet, she'd been aware of it.
It vaguely reminded her of the old photo album that her grandparents had flipped through one Hearth's Warming—the last that her great grand-uncle had been alive. The paintings and grainy sepia-toned photographs hadn't really meant much to her, but her grandfather had treated the album with great reverence. In some way, this was a scrapbook for Celestia.
Rainbow drew her out of her thoughts. "Is this it?"
Twilight nodded. "The pegasus hallway is in the center." It was in the center because it was the shortest. Most pegasi had little use for stained glass windows in their cloud cities, so it was rare that they commissioned a piece for themselves.
Nevertheless, there were many windows that had been donated to the Castle of the Two Sisters, and later the palace in Canterlot.
Perhaps that was one of the lessons that Princess Celestia had been trying to teach Twilight so many years ago. Perhaps one of the earliest proofs of unification had been when the first earth pony created a window memorializing a pegasus who she'd particularly admired, in contrast to the windows which the old unicorn nobles had demanded as tribute.
“Hmm.” Rainbow looked at the building. “It looks kind of like a library. Are you sure this is the right place? Aren’t museums supposed to have old bones in front of them or something?”
“I'm sure.” Twilight walked up the sidewalk to the marble stairs, their treads worn down from generations of ponies making the same journey. “And it is kind of like a library. Before literacy was common, pictures and stained glass windows told some of the history of Equestria, and the tradition continued—even now, when almost every foal learns to read in school, new stained glass windows are still made to honor and to teach. And to inspire.”
Twilight held the door open for Rainbow, and then followed the pegasus into the lobby. “Now, there’s a hallway for each of the three tribes, and the windows are generally arranged from oldest to newest, unless the oldest window isn’t ‘aesthetically pleasing.’”
“Oldest to newest, got it. So Commander Hurricane's windows ought to be right in the very front, right?”
“Yes; in fact, two of them flank the entryway.” She went through the lobby with sure steps. She might not have easily remembered the way here, but now that she was inside the entire museum was coming back to her. “It's the hallway right down there, next to—“
Twilight sighed. Rainbow, unsurprisingly, had zipped off as soon as she had a direction, and perhaps that was for the best. She wasn't going to gallop after her; no doubt Rainbow could read the plaques and figure it out for herself.
When Twilight arrived at the alcove, Rainbow pointed accusingly at the window. “How come they made Commander Hurricane a dude? And the plaque says so, too. Somepony made a mistake.”
“Nopony made a mistake,” Twilight said. “Commander Hurricane was a stallion.”
“But in the pageant, I played Commander Hurricane. I'm not a stallion.”
“The theatre has a long history of mares playing stallion's roles in plays. Besides, the pageant isn't about historical accuracy.”
“Stallions aren't as awesome as mares.” Rainbow scowled at the window. “It says that she—that he—joined a treaty with the earth ponies.”
Twilight nodded.
“Against the unicorns.”
“Yes, Rainbow, against the unicorns. That was back before unification, when the three tribes were fighting. Surely you remember the pageant, where the unicorns demanded tribute for bringing the sun, and the pegasi demanded tribute for bringing the weather— ”
“Yeah, yeah, of course I do.” Rainbow looked back at the window. “Did he win? I bet he won. He founded Pegasopolis.”
“He was a brash pony, and he never would have been anything but a hothead if it hadn't been for the war. But he had a gift of taking risks that paid off for him in the end, no matter how foolhardy they seemed at first.”
Rainbow grinned. “So you're saying that rushing in without thinking is a smart thing to do?”
Twilight’s ears flattened. “Sometimes boldness succeeds where caution fails,” she admitted.
“Ha!” Rainbow looked down the hallway stretching out in front of them. “Are there more with Commander Hurricane?”
“He was one of the founders of modern Equestria. Of course there are more windows with Commander Hurricane.” At her words, Rainbow started flying down the hall, but was stopped short by Twilight's field around her tail. “He has more windows than you do, so don't go flying down the hallway in an attempt to count them. This is a museum, not a race track.”
“Sorry, Mom.” Rainbow landed on the ground in front of Twilight.
I do sound like my Mom. “Would you rather tour at your own pace?”
Rainbow flicked her tail, and then shook her head. “I guess . . . you know more about these windows than just what the little plaques say, right? So it would be faster for you to just tell me about them.”
Twilight grinned. “On your left, right through the entryway, is a window honoring the founding of Pegasopolis.”
Ten Years Ago
“Where is it now? I know about Cloudsdale and Las Pegasus and Stratusburg—”
Celestia chuckled. “Pegasi aren't tied to the land the same way earth ponies and unicorns are, so as the city grew, eventually they all got tired of living together and started splitting up to explore and live in new lands. Nopony could agree which fraction got to be called Pegasopolis, so they decided that they would give their new cities new names.”
“That's sad.”
“Is it?” Princess Celestia smiled. “I rather thought it was a nice idea. New cities for new ponies, with no ties to the past. They didn't have to try and live up to what Commander Hurricane had created; they could start fresh and build their new cities in the way they wanted. Some things, Twilight, should remain the same. There should always be touchstones to the past, because that's where we came from. But they should not be millstones—sometimes ponies need to move on, to try something new and different, and I think that the pegasi lead us as often as not.”
“But they're so hot-headed!”
“Quick to anger and quick to forget. Some say that the pegasi were born from the sea, and their temperament reflects it.” She moved to the next window. “This window depicts General Firefly, who founded not only the Wonderbolts, but also what would become the Royal Guard. After— ponies got together and formed the E.U.P, which was meant to guard me.”
“Guard you? You don’t need guards.”
Princess Celestia beamed down at her. “Those were different times, Twilight. Ponies didn’t all get along, so they formed the E.U.P., which was the first unified Guard. Before that, they were split along tribal lines.
“On the celebration of the first year of peace, the very best pegasi put on an airshow for everypony.” She moved down the hallway, tilting her head towards a window showing a cluster of pegasi flying above a crowd of ponies.
As Twilight moved, the ‘sky’ in the window glittered with energy. She frowned and lit her horn—that wasn’t a magical effect she’d seen before. “How come there isn’t any magic doing that?”
“The greatest artisans rarely reveal their secrets,” Princess Celestia said. “General Firefly named her new flight team the Wonderbolts, because of the magical lightning their performance had caused.”
The Present
“The Wonderbolts donated most of these windows,” Twilight said. “They used to be at the flight barracks, so that recruits could learn about the history of the team.”
“If they spent more time flying, they wouldn’t have to learn history.”
“Yes, they would, because it’s important. The Protective Pony Platoons were unified, made up of all three tribes, but the Wonderbolts were pegasi-only.”
“Well, duh.” Rainbow looked over at Twilight. “Earth ponies and unicorns can’t fly.” She poked a hoof at Twilight’s back. “No wings.”
“There are spells, you know.” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.
“Believe me, I know. Best Young Flier in Equestria!”
Twilight rolled her eyes.
“Okay, how come it’s important?”
“We learned that Equestria does the best if all three tribes work together.”
Rainbow nodded. “That’s, like, the whole point of the pageant.”
“But it’s also important that each tribe does what they do best, even if that seems paradoxical.” Twilight pointed to the window depicting the Wonderbolts showering the crowd with magical lightning. “I can’t fly, and you can’t cast spells. We’re strongest when we work together and embrace what makes us special.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Rainbow looked at the window again, flying up so that she could get a closer look at the glass faces of the original Wonderbolts.
•••
“You said that Daring Do had her own window.”
“I said that she was on a window.” Twilight pointed to a small circle along the border. “Her family has been one of the pegasus dynasties since the early days of Equestria. She’s related to Commander Purple Dart, you know. Her parents commissioned this window for the Wonderbolts training camp, and then it was eventually moved here after Spitfire became the captain.”
Rainbow nodded absently. Her eyes had been drawn to one particular face. “Is that—”
“Yes.”
“They’re related?”
“They’re sisters.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Ten Years Ago
“What’s in here?” Twilight pointed down a short corridor. “The map just says that it’s a memorial.”
Princess Celestia nodded. “Not all ponies are famous enough to have windows made in their honor, and yet we would not be standing here today if it were not for their sacrifices. This room honors all the ponies who have died in service to the Crown.”
“Can we go in?”
For a moment, Twilight was sure that she’d said something wrong. Princess Celestia didn’t answer her right away. She shifted around on her hooves nervously. She’d read the entire tour guide, and it had mentioned this room. Even if it hadn’t—Princess Celestia must know it was here. She knew everything.
Twilight risked a glance back at her mentor. Princess Celestia had a distant look on her face, like her Mom got sometimes when she was distracted.
“Princess?”
A gentle smile reappeared on Princess Celestia’s face. “I’m sorry, Twilight. Of course we can go in.” Her golden aura touched the doors, and they swung open.
A small part of Twilight’s mind had expected this to be some sort of secret, hidden room, despite it being plainly mentioned in the tour guide and the pamphlet.
The stone walls were rough hewn, old and weatherworn, much darker than the stones that made up the rest of the museum. And the windows that let the light in, they were old, too. She’d seen enough of the museum to be able to tell by the design and the colors of the glass.
Natural sunlight poured through them, its light richer and more complex than the enchanted crystals.
More than anything, her focus was drawn to the plinth below each window. Each one contained a thick book.
“Go ahead,” Princess Celestia urged.
She moved out of the doorway, in case more ponies wanted to come into the room, but she moved no further than was necessary, her eyes taking in the room, trying to understand it, and why it felt so much older than the rest of the museum. It felt timeless.
Twilight was barely tall enough to see the book, even when she just stood on her hind hooves. She wasn’t sure why, but it didn’t seem like the right thing to take the book off its pedestal and examine it on the floor, especially with Princess Celestia standing right behind her.
She opened the cover and dedication page, and was confronted with a list of names and dates, all in Princess Celestia’s hornwriting. Row upon row, page upon page, name upon name.
The Present
Rainbow hesitated in front of the door. “Memorial Room? What’s that?”
“Not all ponies are famous enough to have windows made in their honor.”
The room was just as she’d remembered. Natural light filtered through the windows, spreading their colors across the floor and across the books that sat reverently atop the marble plinths.
Rainbow took one step into the room and then paused, studying the plinths with their thick books atop. “Pegasi are under the window with the clouds.”
The pegasus nodded and moved slowly across the room, her hooffalls echoing around the otherwise silent chamber.
Twilight gave her space.
She thought about King Sombra and the crystal ponies. She thought about her crystal prison, and wondered how close it had been to being a crystal tomb. It wasn’t too hard to imagine her parents standing below the unicorn window, reading her name in the book.
How many new pages had been added since the last time she’d visited?
She watched Rainbow turn through the pages, skimming over name after name, date after date. She knew that some of the entries simply ended unknown, and those must have been the hardest for the Princess to write.
•••
“Starshine was in the book.” Rainbow said softly. “She was the last entry.”
“Did you know her?”
“She worked on the coast. A typhoon came in, and . . . they never found her.
“I try not to think about it too much, and I won’t have anypony do something that I wouldn’t do. Because otherwise I couldn’t deal with it. I’ve got to be bold, or nopony else on the team will have confidence, but if I’m too bold, somepony will do something stupid, and get themselves hurt, or . . . it’s a lot easier when it’s just me. I know me. I know what I can do.” Rainbow scuffed a hoof across the pavement. “I don’t think the other girls would have understood it right.”
“No.”
“Maybe Applejack would.” Rainbow glanced up at the tall spires of the castle. “It must be hard, thinking every day that everything you say and do will affect somepony, maybe somepony you’ve never met, and never will.”
“I don’t think I could do it,” Twilight admitted.
“Sure you could. Hey, Twilight? I’m gonna sound like a total egghead, but next time when we’re in Canterlot, let’s look at one of the other corridors, okay?”
“I’d like that.”
“I still can’t believe Commander Hurricane was a guy.” Rainbow lifted off and did a little loop in the air.
Author's Note
Pre-reading by AShadowOfCygnus, MSPiper, and metallusionismagic.
