These Hearts Will Burn

Chapters

A Stolen Eternity
A Delicate Confrontation
A Pensive Apology

A Stolen Eternity

Hospitals were a decidedly terrible place to be. Regardless of whether one was the pony in the bed or the pony sitting beside it, no good had ever come of being stuck in a hospital. The eerie clip-clop of the nurses plodding down the linoleum floors, the sterile aroma that permeated the air, the cardboard-flavored “meals” that the cooks loved to serve…

Yes, Twilight definitely considered hospitals among the top ten worst places to be. Maybe even top five, if one didn’t consider “Celestia’s bad side” an explicit location. Which, of course, she did.

This hospital visit was different than all the other times she had come, though. It was different because this time, she was at fault. The blame for this prolonged visit to the emergency room fell entirely on her shoulders. The unconscious, prone form of the navy-coated, blue-maned former alicorn—with her ragged breathing and charred coat—weighed heavily on Twilight’s conscience.

Twilight chanced another glance down at Princess Luna, scanning over her limp form. She still lived, or so the doctors assured her. And she would continue to do so, although her life would be drastically changed.

She thought back to her own choice of words: former alicorn. Emphasis on the word former.

The area where her horn once stood had since been covered with stitches, its absence immediately noticeable. Her wings, in contrast, remained intact… well, mostly intact. More than a few feathers had burned off, but they would grow back in time. Not that the fact did anything to assuage Twilight’s guilt.

Three nights ago, Nightmare Moon had unwittingly become the first equine test subject for the Elements of Harmony. And Princess Luna, the mare hiding beneath the Nightmare, had paid the price for it. The Nightmare had dispersed just as expected when the beam of magic had made contact, but the Nightmare wasn’t the only thing lost in the rubble of the castle that night.

Somehow, the Elements’ interference had tampered with Princess Luna’s alicorn magic, causing it to reject her body. It physically tore her apart from the inside out, all while Twilight seared her with a concentrated, high-energy, pseudo-laser “friendship beam” at the same time. It was horrible, but the phrase “beating an (almost) dead horse” immediately came to mind every time Twilight recalled the moment.

…If she closed her eyes and listened closely, she could still hear Princess Luna’s screams.

Twilight’s ears splayed. She shifted uncomfortably in her wooden chair, clutching her legs closer to her chest. Then, after a long moment, she heaved heavy, drawn-out sigh.

It had been a rough week, to say the least.

Twilight pursed her lips, her eyes never leaving Princess Luna. All things considered, the mare had made a remarkable recovery so far. Her internal organs had realigned themselves quickly with the assistance of Twilight’s magic. Even the uneven beeping of her heart rate monitor grew more steady by the hour, as did her breathing. Her brain activity had begun to pick up as well. At this rate, the professionals predicted that she would wake from her coma within the next few hours, which was entirely unprecedented in the medical world. After seventy-two hours of being out cold, it was rare that a patient ever awoke. Then again, Luna wasn’t exactly a normal pony in the first place.

The worst part about this whole scenario, however, was that nopony seemed to care. Twilight and Celestia were the only ones to visit Luna, though Celestia did so rather irregularly as she had her royal duties to attend to. Twilight, for her part, had never left the hospital room for longer than it took to use the little mare’s room and grab a cup of coffee or three. She couldn’t bring herself to go home until she knew for sure that Luna was alive and well.

Twilight bit lightly down on her tongue, gaze still lingering on Luna. Injuries aside, the mare looked much different than Twilight had pictured her prior to Nightmare Moon’s return. She seemed to be about Twilight’s height and weight, if not a tad smaller. Her mane was sky blue and her coat a soft navy, as opposed to the royal blue Twilight had imagined. She looked rather young too. Again, she appeared no older than Twilight or any of her newfound friends. Had she crossed paths with Luna in the streets of Canterlot, never in a million years would she have pinned Luna as a former goddess.

…There was that word again, rearing its ugly head: former. It didn’t matter how many times she felt it form on her tongue, it never tasted any less bitter.

In that instant, Twilight wanted nothing more than a chance apologize to Luna. It certainly wouldn’t fix everything, not even a little bit, but it would be a start. She heaved another involuntary sigh; she had, quite literally, vaporized several millennia off this poor mare’s life. If there existed an action more cold and heartless than that, she had no idea what it could be.

Jaw tensed, Twilight leaned forward and gently brushed Luna’s mane out of her eyes.

Luna twitched at her touch.

Twilight’s eyes shot open. Her heart lurched into her throat, and she bit down on her tongue hard. There was no time to let out a yelp of pain, though. All the equipment reading Luna’s vitals had begun to rattle from the unexpected spike in activity.

But after a moment, Twilight realized that it wasn’t just a spike. It was sustained. Luna… Luna was starting to wake up. Like, right now.

Oh.

Oh no.

Twilight sat in perfect silence, unable to formulate any words. She watched the time tick by, scrutinizing Luna. Every ten seconds or so she would twitch another time. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she let out a low groan.

By the time a minute or two had elapsed, still no nurses or doctors had come to respond to the sudden change in Luna’s vitals. Twilight contemplated yelling for assistance, but decided to wait. She didn’t trust herself to speak quite yet.

Eventually, following an even longer and louder groan, Luna’s eyelids peeled open. Eyes glassy and bloodshot, she blinked a few times to clear her vision. With her heart rate monitor still beeping like it was about to explode, she managed to pull herself up into a half-sitting position, leaning heavily against the headboard of the hospital bed.

Luna let out a croak, followed by a few hacking coughs. Frantically, she reached for the glass of water on the table beside her bed and downed the whole thing in less than five seconds.

Then she locked eyes with Twilight.

Twilight tensed up, mouth half open. A sudden realization struck her harder than a freight train. What exactly did somepony say to a mare that they had almost inadvertently murdered? Twilight could only pray that Luna didn’t recognize her as Nightmare Moon’s anonymous assailant. Not yet, at least.

“P-Princess Luna,” Twilight stammered. “I’m so… I-I mean, I don’t—”

Jerked from her stupor by Twilight’s words, Luna’s expression morphed into a scowl. Her jaw clenched and her nose crinkled as she let out a low grumble.

Twilight was reasonably certain her heart had stopped beating altogether. So much for Luna not recognizing her. “I can explain!” she cried.

“Get. Out!” Luna tried to shriek, though the noise came out as more of a pitiful croak than an intimidating command.

Twilight leapt out of her seat, more than happy to oblige. Her knees wobbling underneath the weight of her body, she bolted out of the room, sprinting down the hallway and out of that forsaken hospital room for the first time in who knows how long.

And as she galloped down the corridors faster than any race horse ever had, only one thought managed to coalesce from the depths of her tangled mind:

Welp, that definitely could’ve gone better.

It just so happened that Twilight’s legs carried her to the throne room doors, beyond which she knew sat Princess Celestia. Without a moment of hesitation, she burst through them, disrupting whatever inconsequential proceeding might be going on inside the Day Court.

The doors swung inward, and the whole room fell perfectly silent. The three nobleponies standing before Princess Celestia whipped around and stared at Twilight indignantly, visibly frustrated that a “lesser” pony dared to interrupt anyone as important as them.

A moment of pervasive silence ticked by as everypony stared at one another, confused. It was then that Twilight felt her face flush a deep red, having only just put together why they all were giving her such odd looks. She hadn’t slept in days; she must’ve looked like an absolute crazy pony! No wonder they were all eyeing at her like she’d just dragged herself out of her own grave. To be perfectly honest, it wasn’t all that far from the truth.

Before Twilight could wallow in her self-conscious self-pity any longer, Princess Celestia crossed the room to approach her. Twilight glanced up at her mentor pleadingly, still breathing heavily from the sprint across the castle foregrounds.

Celestia herself looked worse for wear, too. In her few interactions with the princess over the last three days, Twilight had noticed Celestia’s steady decline. With each passing day, she looked more and more tired. She’d never admit it, but Luna’s injury was taking a toll on her mental health just as much as it was Twilight’s.

“Twilight? What’s wrong?” Celestia asked.

“Luna’s awake,” Twilight said flatly, her voice low.

Celestia’s expression flashed to one of surprise for the briefest of moments, only to be replaced by her stoic mask once more. Quickly, she motioned for Twilight to follow her back to the place she had only just fled. Begrudgingly, Twilight fell in step behind Celestia, struggling to keep up with the tall alicorn’s larger strides.

The nobleponies, for their part, simply sat there in disbelief. They watched as the large, oaken doors slammed shut in front of them, leaving them alone to an empty throne room without a single princess’ ear to chew off.

The hospital room was packed by the time Celestia and Twilight reached it. Several doctors and a hoof-ful of aides all tried to tend to the poor pegasus at once. Luna, for what it was worth, seemed to be taking it all in stride, albeit with a firm scowl plastered across her face. Then again, anypony with suction cups and rubber tubes being applied to every inch of their body had every right to be upset.

Upon seeing Celestia, Luna froze. “…Sister,” she began, her strained words silencing the rest of the room, “canst thou please explain what is going on here?”

Twilight made a pointed attempt to position herself behind her mentor, just out of Luna’s line of sight. Sure, hiding behind Celestia wasn’t exactly the most mature thing she could’ve done in that moment, but Twilight had never exactly been the most mature pony anyway.

“You were comatose for three days, Luna,” Celestia explained. “These ponies are only trying to help, I assure you.”

“Comatose…?” Luna questioned, more to herself than anypony else.

“Yes,” Celestia answered softly. “Though the Nightmare is gone now, so you needn’t worry.”

Twilight shrunk further and further into Celestia’s shadow, praying that the circumstances of the Nightmare’s… disappearance wouldn’t arise from this thread of discussion. She wasn’t quite ready to explain exactly what she had done to Luna yet. Again, Twilight knew that she needed to apologize for stealing Luna’s immortality, but there would be time for that later—perhaps once everything finally calmed down some.

“May I speak with Luna alone for a moment?” Celestia asked, turning to the doctors in the room. “I do believe that she and I have some catching up to do.”

All too often, Twilight seemed to forget that Celestia had emotions of her own. Usually she was an impenetrable rock, a living equine statue made entirely of unfiltered wisdom with gallons of herbal tea pumping through her veins thicker than blood. But every once in awhile, the smallest hint of uncertainty, of real equine emotion, would worm its way into her speech. Now was one such time; the tiniest amount of trepidation had laced its way into her words. Perhaps Twilight had imagined it, but it made sense all the same. A thousand years without speaking to a sister whom you had banished to the moon was a situation ripe for breeding contempt. Maybe… maybe Celestia was worried Luna would be upset with her.

It was strangely calming, knowing that Celestia was almost as nervous as she was.

Slowly, the other ponies all scuttled out of the room, leaving the two princesses behind. Twilight lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching as Celestia calmly approached the side of the bed. Luna’s expression remained unreadable.

The two sisters shared a hushed back-and-forth, followed by what looked like an curt apology from Celestia. Luna reciprocated, then Celestia moved in for a warm embrace. The sight brought a smile to Twilight’s lips; maybe a thousand years had been long enough to silence all hostility between them. She hoped it wouldn’t take another thousand years for Luna to forgive her as well.

Lips pursed, Twilight followed the lead of the others and hurried out into the hallway, letting the door close behind her with a soft click. Most of the other ponies had already wandered off to attend to their other duties, but one older doctor remained. He trotted up to Twilight, smiling. She attempted to return the gesture.

“Good afternoon, Miss Twilight Sparkle! How are you doing this fine day?”

Was it afternoon already? Huh.

“As good as I can be, doctor,” Twilight replied, expression level.

He let out a chuckle. “Please, call me Sequoia. What’s a title worth if it’s all you define yourself by, eh?”

Twilight nodded slowly, letting the conversation lull for a moment. She took the opportunity to soak in this stallion’s appearance. He was the quintessential grandfather figure: elderly and soft-spoken. His mane was a gray-white and his coat a dull burgundy. He stood several inches taller than Twilight as well, but not in an imposing way. He seemed to mean well enough, so she motioned for him continue speaking.

“I’m the stallion in charge of this whole operation,” he said, gesturing broadly to the hospital around them, “so I wanted to come over and introduce myself while I had the chance. I’ll be working with you and Princess Celestia personally regarding Luna’s recovery, so if you have any questions, concerns, complaints, or compliments, be sure to hunt me down.”

Twilight’s ears splayed. Why was she being included in the loop? If anything, she should be kept as far from Luna as possible. Clearly Twilight had a history of only making things worse, and she doubted Luna would want her around either.

“Thank you,” Twilight replied. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

He offered her one last smile, then headed off in the other direction. Twilight stood there rooted in her spot, watching him trot away. Once he was out of earshot, she let out her umpteenth sigh for the day, her gaze falling to her hooves and lingering there.

Almost as if on cue, the door to the hospital room pushed open and Princess Celestia trotted out. Twilight glanced up at her, and Celestia smiled.

“Do you mind if I steal your attention for a moment, Twilight?”

“Not at all,” Twilight said.

Celestia pursed her lips, pausing for a moment. “Luna seems to be doing well as of yet, but I believe this whole endeavor—her acclimation to modern society, I mean—will get markedly worse before it gets better.”

Twilight nodded.

“These next few weeks are going to be rather tough for all of us. The past few days have been an uphill battle, to say the least, and that’s even before Luna’s recovery had become part of the equation,” Celestia explained. “The nobles are fed up with being kept in the dark, the citizens of Equestria deserve to know that Luna has returned, and Luna herself… well, it’s all a work in progress.”

Another nod from Twilight.

Celestia paused to formulate her thoughts, searching for the right words. “…I hate to tie you down to Canterlot any longer than I have already, but I must ask. Would you be able to remain here at the castle for the next few weeks? I can handle the public fine, but I need your help to get Luna readjusted. I… I’m not sure that I can handle it all on my own.”

“O-of course, Princess… I would be happy to,” she replied, trying to keep her voice from wavering. It struck Twilight that she probably should’ve mentioned how Luna hadn’t responded too kindly to her presence earlier, but she couldn’t bear to tell the Princess that now. Especially not after Celestia had just admitted she needed help for the first time in Twilight’s entire life.

“Perfect,” Celestia replied. “I had the servants prepare your old room a few nights ago thinking you’d wish to sleep there rather than in the hospital. You can stay there now if you wish. I must head off, though. I have a few loose ends I must attend to before I retire. Goodnight, Twilight Sparkle. We will speak at more length in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Princess,” Twilight said.

Within a matter of moments, Celestia was gone, whisked off to heaven knows where to do heaven knows what. There, in that moment, following what could only be labeled as the most stressful day of her adulthood, Twilight was finally alone with herself. After taking a deep breath to steel herself for the long trek ahead, she began walking, trudging her way toward her old room in the upper left tower.

The seconds bled into minutes, and eventually Twilight reached her destination. She paused before the large, oaken door. Memories of a life long past flooded her: late nights wasted studying, personal lessons with Princess Celestia herself, weeks spent grounded when the guards had caught her paying other students for the privilege of doing their homework… It was almost enough to draw a smile from her. Almost.

Twilight pushed open the door and plodded inside. The room was just as she’d imagined it—perfectly pristine. The bed was made, the books were neatly stacked on the shelves, and the floor was spotless. The thing that stuck out at her the most, however, was her old Smarty Pants doll resting delicately atop the pillow. Princess Celestia must’ve requested someone fetch it from her home, thinking that she would want it here by her side. It was a small gesture, but it meant far more than Twilight could articulate in her current droopy-eyed, sleep-deprived state.

A dopey smile playing across her features, she headed straight for the bed and plopped down, grabbing the plushie and clutching it close to her chest. It wasn’t until that moment, when she could feel the soft, velvety sheets of the bed beneath her, that she realized exactly how tired she was. Upright in a wooden chair hadn’t been the best way to sleep for three nights straight, as it turned out.

She let out an enormous yawn, snuggling deeper into the mass of blankets. Thoughts ran wild in her mind—thoughts of Luna, thoughts of Celestia, and most importantly, thoughts of her friends back in Ponyville.

Twilight felt terrible that she hadn’t spoken to any of them in the days following the incident. She’d been so torn up over the whole predicament that she’d been glued to Luna’s bedside, whereas they had long since returned to their own lives. She’d never even gotten the chance to thank them, either. She especially needed to thank Fluttershy, who had graciously volunteered to watch Spike while she was holed away in Canterlot.

Twilight had met them less than a week ago and she’d already been a horrible friend. She resolved to write them all a letter first thing in the morning; they deserved as much.

With that thought firm in her mind, she let out one last deep breath and closed her eyes, the tendrils of sleep finally reaching out to claim her.

A Delicate Confrontation

Twilight sat stark still, lips pursed as she watched Celestia. Her mentor simply sat there absently, eyes vacant and heart almost unbeating. It was an unnerving thing to see, to be honest. Celestia had always been a paragon of organization and conscientiousness. Seeing her this distant didn’t do much to calm any of the uneasiness still residing in her gut from these past twenty-four hours.

“…Princess?” Twilight asked, hesitating. “Are you alright?”

Celestia’s attention jerked back down to Equestria. “Huh? Oh yes, my apologies, Twilight. You were saying?”

Twilight exhaled loudly from her nose. “I wasn’t saying anything. You were, then you sort of just, uh, stopped talking.”

Celestia’s eyes bulged momentarily, the faintest of blushes sweeping across her face. “I’m sorry, my dear Twilight. I… I suppose that I’ve just been having some peculiar dreams lately, and they’ve been keeping me awake. There’s no need to worry, though.”

Twilight cocked an eyebrow, but decided not to press her any further. Over the past few years, she had learned it was always best not to question Celestia.

“Anyway,” Celestia continued, “regarding Luna… I’d like you to help her with rehabilitation both physically and mentally, if you can. Just stay by her side and be there—I personally cannot be, but I trust you more than anyone else to make sure she is alright.”

“You know that I’m always happy to help, but…” Twilight paused, then continued, her voice an octave lower than before, “Well… you should probably be warned that she and I… aren’t exactly on speaking terms,” Twilight replied.

“How do you mean?” Celestia asked.

Twilight sighed, then took a long sip of her coffee. It was far too early for this conversation to be happening, even if it was inevitable. “I… stole her immortality, Princess. She’s rightfully upset with me.”

Celestia waved her hoof dismissively. “Water under the bridge, my dear Twilight. In time her animosity will pass. Soon enough she’ll realize that it wasn’t you but the elements that did the damage. There simply wasn’t another option available. You know that.”

“But what about right now?” Twilight asked, still noticeably uncomfortable; Celestia’s response had been more dismissive than reassuring. “I highly doubt she’ll want me to be anywhere near her, let alone by her side until she’s recovered completely.”

“She’ll get used to you soon enough,” Celestia stated plainly. Her words had an air of finality about them. The signal was clear. This discussion was over.

Twilight pursed her lips, head hung low—resigned to her fate.

“So,” Twilight asked softly, “what do I do now?”

“She’s probably still sleeping. Go to her hospital room and ask what you can do to help. That would probably be the best place for you to start.”

“Alright, I suppose,” Twilight replied. After glancing down at the cold, half-eaten pastry on her plate, she clenched her jaw and excused herself from the table, leaving Celestia to her own devices for the time being. As soon as she stood up, the servants swooped in and took all the dirty silverware sitting at the table. She paid them no heed, and instead wandered toward the doorway and out into the hallways of the enormous castle.

She made sure that each of her steps were small and deliberate. The longer it took for her to reach the hospital, the less time she would be stuck there.

Once she was out of earshot, Twilight heaved a long, heavy sigh. That discussion probably couldn’t have gone worse. Not only was she stuck babysitting Luna, but Celestia had seemed a tad upset with her. She’d had also seemed rather distant these past few days—just another oddity to add to the ever growing list. Twilight bit her lip, shaking her head. She would give just about anything for a chance to re-do everything she’d done wrong recently.

Eventually, unfortunately, Twilight reached the door to the castle foregrounds, across which resided the hospital Luna currently slept in. Twilight stopped for a moment, contemplating turning around and hiding in her room, but decided the better of it. She’d much rather face Luna’s wrath than Celestia’s.

So, following a deep breath, she plodded forth into the open air, marching straight toward hell.

The dew-covered grass was cold on her hooves as she dragged them along. It felt strangely refreshing. Having been locked up inside for the majority of the previous week, everything—the fresh air, the birds chirping, the soft rustle of wind blowing through the autumn leaves barely clinging to trees—really struck her. They were all things she needed more of in her life.

Inevitably, she reached the entryway to the hospital and pushed open the door. The secretary sitting at the front desk looked up and shot her a smile.

“Third floor, second door on the left,” he said, smiling.

She smiled back, nodding. The interaction was really a formality at this point. She’d been here so many times that it was practically muscle memory, and the secretary knew that just as well as she did.

Her legs carried her to the stairwell, and she slowly plodded onwards and upwards. As she walked, the sterile aroma pervaded her sense of smell. It was as though the place was almost too clean.

…She swore that she hated hospitals more and more with each and every passing day.

Soon enough, she reached her destination. She paused in front of Luna’s door, trying to cool her nerves. It was very likely that Luna was still asleep, which was ideal, but the thought didn’t calm her racing heart at all.

Suddenly, the sound of hoof-falls could be heard echoing from behind her, growing louder and closer with each step. Twilight spun around on her hooves to locate the sound. It was one of the nurses from yesterday, a tray of food precariously balanced atop her back and a clipboard in her mouth.

The nurse smiled through the clipboard, plodding up to Twilight. She placed the clipboard on the ground and gracefully slid the tray off her back, landing next to the clipboard.

“Hiya!” she chirped, full of energy. She must’ve been the early morning type; Twilight was a tad jealous. “What can I help you with, Miss Sparkle?”

“Hello,” Twilight replied, trying and failing to mimic the nurse’s upbeat tone, “Celestia sent me to help with Luna. She wants me to be by her side throughout her recovery.”

The nurse’s smile faltered almost imperceptibly for a brief moment. “O-oh. And is she sure that she wants to send you? I mean no offense but it seemed as though she wasn’t thrilled to see you yesterday…”

Twilight pursed her lips. At least someone understood her point of view… “Believe me, I tried explaining it to her, but she was set on me coming here. If you want to try convincing her, though…”

“No, no—I’m sure that she knows what she’s doing. The princess has never been wrong, after all.”

That was a valid point, Twilight supposed. It didn’t fix her current predicament, though. “So, uh, is there anything I can do to help out? Preferably something where I’m not within strangling distance?”

The nurse let out a curt laugh at that. “Well, I was actually just about to bring in breakfast. You’re welcome to give it to her if you want; I have to go grab some more materials before I can examine her condition.”

Twilight nodded. “Sure. Might as well rip the bandage off instead of waiting to break the news to her.”

“Perfect!” the nurse said. “I’ll be back an a jiffy.”

Twilight watched quietly as the nurse turned around and trotted off down the hallway, practically bouncing. Once she was out of sight, Twilight tilted her gaze down to the tray of food before her. It looked decidedly… not food-like. It was Just glop with a consistency a little thinner than pudding, really, with an inviting gray color to it. It made enough sense why they were serving this to her—Twilight could imagine that Luna wasn’t quite yet at a place where she could chew solid foods—but it was still pretty disgusting.

Twilight shook her head and grabbed the tray with her magic, spinning around toward the half-closed door. Before she could give herself a chance to change her mind, she nuzzled the door open and plodded inside.

Luna was awake. Perhaps not mentally, but physically she was. She laid on her back with her eyes peeled open. Her gaze was fixed on the ceiling fan, watching it twirl endlessly around and around and around. Twilight couldn’t help but wonder just how long she’d been sitting there like that, lost in a world only she could see.

In the past twelve or so hours, her condition had noticeably improved. Though you could still see where it had been singed off, her fur was beginning to grow back. Her mane was too, though in a much softer, lighter sky-blue tone—however, her eyebrows had yet to start growing back. Her wings were by far the most remarkable thing about her recovery so far, though. A hoof-full of feathers were already beginning to regrow, which was normally a process that took much, much longer. Twilight was no doctor, but there was no denying that was a promising sign.

Unfortunately, her two hind legs still remained casted, and her wings were still lined with metal braces. Her movement was severely restricted, which explained why she’d hardly moved since she’d woken up the night prior.

While still standing just inside the doorway, Twilight magicked the tray over to Luna’s bedside. The sound of it clattering against the plastic table caught her attention, and her gaze jerked from the ceiling toward Twilight.

They remained like that for a considerable amount of time, sizing each other up. Twilight made no implication that she was going to say anything, leaving Luna to make the first move.

After another long moment of nothingness, Luna spoke up. “Why are you here?” she prodded, her voice level—as though she were holding back and hiding the true emotion in her voice.

Twilight took a tentative step toward the bedside. “Because I have to be. Princess Celestia asked me to be here while you recovered.”

Luna’s face scrunched up. “Tell her that I don’t want you here.”

Twilight smirked half-heartedly. “Believe me, I already tried. She wasn’t having any of it, though. Feel free to tell her yourself next time you see her, though.”

“Hmph,” Luna grunted.

Silence returned, thick and pervasive. Luna quickly broke eye contact, her gaze darting back to the ceiling.

“I brought food with me,” Twilight tried.

Luna turned to face the tray. She shot Twilight a look, then looked back at the tray once more, and fired another glare at Twilight. “You call that food?”

“Hey, I didn’t make it,” Twilight replied, smiling. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

Luna rolled her eyes and turned her head over to the other side of the pillow, staring directly at the wall instead of in Twilight’s general direction. Twilight clenched her jaw, growing more and more impatient with this situation.

“…Look, Princess, I don’t want to be here any more than you do. I’m extremely sorry for what happened—truly, I am. You have every right to be angry. But… but we’re both stuck here, so we might as well be civil. If only for today, until you get a chance to talk to your sister.”

“…”

Twilight heaved a sigh. “You can’t just sit here and ignore me for the next few hours.”

Luna let out a singular laugh, curt, harsh, and entirely unwarranted. “Is that a challenge, Sparkle?”

“No, I—”

“Okay, I’m back!” the nurse said while trotting back into the room, completely oblivious to the trainwreck she was diving headfirst into.

She lifted her nose from her clipboard, scanning the room. Eventually her gaze fell on the untouched tray of food at Luna’s bedside. “Luna, you haven’t eaten. Did you see that—”

“—I’m not hungry,” Luna interrupted, a scowl planted firmly on her lips.

“O-okay… that’s fine!” the nurse said, her smile faltering for a brief second. “We’ll just get right down to business then. First things first, we need to re-record your vitals.”

She placed her clipboard down on the foot to the bed. “Twilight, dear, would you mind helping me?”

“Of course,” Twilight replied. “How can I help?”

“Just hold this here,” the nurse said, passing a dial over to her. “Tell me what number it reads when I look at you.”

After seeing Twilight’s nod in response, she turned to Luna and strapped the other end of the device onto her forehoof. After securing it, she took the far end of the device into her mouth and began pumping it to inflate the portion strapped onto Luna. Twilight watched silently as the dial in her hoof cranked upward. After a moment, the nurse shot her a look. Twilight replied by reading off the numbers as she wrote them onto her clipboard.

This process repeated itself several times while they collected information on her blood pressure, pulse rate, body temperature, and respiration. All the while, the room remained painfully silent, with only the sounds of their breathing audible over the nurse tinkering with her tools. The tension in the room was almost tangible. Twilight felt terrible for the poor mare—if she’d known that she’d be stuck in a room with the two of them all day, she probably would have called in sick that morning.

After looking over the data once last time, the nurse shot Luna a warm smile. “Numbers-wise, Luna, you’re looking much healthier than you were yesterday. That’s an enormous improvement! At this rate you’ll be back on your hooves in no time at all.”

“Mmmph,” came the reply, emotionless as always.

The nurse pursed her lips, still holding onto that smile of hers as though it were the last bit of sanity she had left. And to think that this exchange had only been going on for ten minutes; they had another few hours of this in front of them, at the least. “Okie dokie, then. Now we need only to check the range of motion of your legs and wings before we start the rehabilitation process.”

The day proceeded the same way that the first few minutes had gone—with the nurse essentially talking to herself to fill in the gaps between long, stale swaths of unabating silence. She’d explained to Twilight several times over that the day’s schedule would be the daily procedure for the next few weeks, until Luna was comfortably back on her hooves once more. First step, record vitals. Second, check range of motion for all her limbs. Third, move into Luna’s stretches and exercises—all things that would help accelerate the healing process. The whole ordeal was strangely intimate, if Twilight were being honest. Helping someone stretch out all their limbs was very hooves-on. Doubly so when the only “conversation” was the occasional grunt of pain.

The best part, though, was that process was so “simple” (as the nurse had put it) that in a couple days Twilight would be able to run through the motions without her guidance.

Joy.

Thankfully, once they fell into a rhythm, the whole endeavor seemed to proceed much more quickly. Despite it being slightly awkward, the stretches were fairly simple. The nurse would show how to perform the stretch on Luna, have Twilight replicate it, then have Luna do some sort of physical activity working that muscle or muscle group. With a physical objective at hoof too, it was much less uncomfortable. It certainly helped that they’d moved to a larger exercise room as well, with several other ponies and their aides present to quell the tension.

After a while of this—a few hours after Celestia’s sun began its descent from its peak in the sky—they headed back up to Luna’s hospital room. The nurse, bless her soul, still managed to hold the role of peace-maker like it was her job, all while doing her actual job.

With the help of a wheelchair, Luna dragged herself over to her bed and tried to hoist herself up. After the third failed attempt, the nurse moved so as to help her, but Luna’s head whipped around, fire in her eyes. “I can do it on my own.”

The nurse sighed, shaking her head.

On the fourth try, a disgruntled Luna managed to clamber up onto her bed, more out of breath now than any of the exercises had left her. Once she was positioned properly in her bed, she turned back to the nurse with a coy look on her face, almost as if to say “I told you so.”

It was then that the sound of a set of hooves falling heavily against the linoleum floors could be heard in the distance, slowly getting louder. The sound paused directly outside their doorway for a moment before a familiar face, half-hearted smile playing across its features, poked its head around the corner.

The nurse smiled right back. “Hello, Princess! Please, do come in.”

“I’m not intruding am I?” Celestia asked, taking a tentative step into the room.

“No, not at all. We were just finishing up, actually.”

Celestia certainly looked worse for wear—even worse than she had that morning. The bags beneath her eyes had bags beneath them, and her eyes were bloodshot. Her posture, while still firm, had a sense of… awkwardness to it. Like she was uncomfortable being on her feet, and that she needed to sit down as soon as possible. It was a subtle change, yes, but for Celestia, a small change was actually an enormous one. Heck, even her voice had lost its edge, sounding stale and tired. Defeated, almost.

“Sister, please permanently disallow Twilight from returning here,” Luna said with a tinge of bitterness, gesturing toward Twilight with her eyes. “I wish to avoid seeing her.”

Twilight’s eyes bulged, momentarily blindsided by the suddenness of Luna’s comment. Twilight’s ears splayed back and she fidgeted awkwardly in place as she waited for some sort of response from Celestia.

Celestia, just as taken aback as Twilight had been, froze in her spot. With her brow deeply furrowed, she glanced back and forth from Twilight to Luna several times, unsure of how to respond. Eventually, she decided on a singular word:

“…No.”

All in less then a second, Luna’s expression flashed from surprise to confusion and finally to anger. “But Sister, I—”

“Don’t be childish, Luna,” Celestia replied, taking a deep breath. “Twilight will be back here tomorrow morning, and you will let her help you.”

Twilight and the nurse shared a look. This whole situation was quite… unprecedented. Ever since Twilight met Celestia, she’d had a sense of tact while dealing with these sorts of situations. But now, in this moment, none of that was present. It was as though she simply didn’t have the energy for this argument right now, and clearly Luna had had the same realization too. Despite the scowl on her face, she was not about to argue with Celestia. Not right now, at least.

“We will let you rest for the time being, Luna,” Celestia said, turning to face the other two. “Come, let us give her some privacy.”

Not needing to be told a second time, the two of them headed straight for the door. Twilight, for her part, was the first one out of the room. It had been a long day, and she was far too eager for it to be over.

Once they were out of the room, the nurse smiled and waved goodbye to the two of them. Then, after exchanging a few parting words, she headed of to her other duties before heading home for the day.

“Twilight, will you be coming to the kitchens to eat today?” Celestia asked. “We missed you at lunch earlier.”

“Actually,” Twilight replied, “I… I think I’m going to retire for the night.”

Celestia cocked her head to the side. “Retire? But it’s only five in the afternoon!”

Twilight let out a sheepish laugh. “What can I say? It’s been a long day.”

Celestia nodded after a moment, her gaze boring straight through Twilight and looking off into the distance. “Yes, I suppose I can agree with that sentiment.” She paused, then said, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then?”

Twilight nodded. “Of course, Princess.”

Once she had Twilight’s word, Celestia supon off and headed for the kitchens by her lonesome. Twilight hated to see her mentor all alone like that, but she didn’t think she could sit through a conversation about today. Right now, Twilight needed to be by herself.

Shaking away the thought, Twilight headed off toward her room. She’d walked the path so many times in her life that it was burned into the back of her memory. Before long, she reached the bottom of that spiral staircase and began the long ascent to her room. Hooves dragging behind her, she eventually reached the top and shoved open the door and closed it behind her without ever turning around.

Her bed, neatly made by one of the servants at some point during the day, looked incredibly inviting, but she couldn’t sleep quite yet. She still had one other thing left to do. So, after snatching up her Smarty Pants doll and clutching it close to her chest, she trotted over to her desk and sat down. She exhaled deeply, then unraveled a piece parchment and grabbed a quill with her magic.

Staring at the blank sheet of paper, she began to write:

Dear Fluttershy,

Thank you again for watching after Spike in my absence. I’m sorry to have stuck you with him for longer than initially expected, but things here have been… chaotic, to say the least. I’m sure he’s loving the freedom though, especially when there are other colts and fillies around his age in Ponyville. Hopefully I’ll be able to come to Ponyville for good once this is all over—it makes me antsy knowing that there’s a whole empty library just sitting there waiting for Spike and me.

Princess Luna woke up yesterday. She’s not in the brightest of moods. I feel absolutely terrible about what I took away from her, and clearly she isn’t thrilled about it either. Princess Celestia keeps telling me that its not my fault, but I can’t help but feel guilty. There must’ve been some other way to get rid of the nightmare. I know it. I just couldn’t see it. I should’ve been able to. As if that weren’t enough, though, Princess Celestia is having me walk Luna through the rehabilitation process. She says she wants someone by Luna’s side, and since she can’t be there she wants me to be instead. Today was the first day of that and it went just as terribly as expected. I honestly don’t know what to do. I’m going to try apologizing again tomorrow, but I know that it won’t work. I usually trust Princess Celestia’s judgement—she’s never been wrong before—but I honestly don’t know what the end goal is here. All it’s causing is needless stress for everyone involved.

I realized yesterday that in all the chaos of this past week, I never got the chance to thank you and the girls for what you’ve done. Thank you so much for everything, from helping with the Nightmare to even now helping with Spike. I can’t wait to see you all again once this fiasco is over. I trust you’ll pass this message onto Spike and the others in good faith.

Your Friend,

Twilight Sparkle

After reading and re-reading it to make sure that she hadn’t made any mistakes, Twilight folded up the parchment and slid it to the side of her desk. She’d ask Celestia to send it Spike’s way first thing tomorrow morning, but for right now, she had a perfectly made bed waiting for her.

With a prolonged yawn, she pulled herself back to her hooves and headed for the bed. She pulled the blinds shut on her way over, blocking out the final fleeting rays of the setting sun, and climbed underneath the sheets. She laid there, draped haphazardly across the bed, and stared at the ceiling. Knowing her day was finally over, she simply held her Smarty Pants doll close to her chest and waited for sleep to claim her.

A Pensive Apology

“…Luna, can I only say one thing? Then I promise that you won’t ever have to see my face again.”

Have you ever felt like you were walking on a cloud? Just floating through life, so far removed from your physical existence that you felt like caricature of yourself? Almost as though you were living in a hellish dreamscape, and none of the trauma you’d endured over the past few days had truly happened? But then suddenly freight train called reality sneaks up on you and barrels into you full force, knocking the wind out of you and leaving you helpless to pull yourself back up to your hooves?

In that instant, that was precisely how Twilight felt.

Now, sleep had always a precious commodity for her. She specialized in staying awake into the thin of the night, buried in some textbook or something equally as trivial, until suddenly it was three in the morning and she needed to be awake in three hours to present her final project to her history professor in order to pass her class.

This time was different, though. Usually it was a lack of sleep for a want of trying; this time it was a lack of sleep despite her best efforts to do so. These past few nights had all transpired similarly, but the night previous had been by far the worst. Instead of almost to no rest, Twilight got literally none—absolutely zero seconds of slumber. For the entirety of the night, she merely laid there, listlessly staring at her ceiling fan as the gravity of everything finally struck her, holding her in that one spot.

Twilight had been so caught up in how she would be affected by everything that she hadn’t stopped to truly think about the damage she’d done. Yes, she’d been peripherally cognizant of what she’d done, but the the reality of it only struck her late last night.

She had literally stolen an eternity. Hundreds of thousands of millions of lifetimes’ worth of time gone, just like that. Luna’s life was now finite. She would live and die like everyone else, forced to watch her sister live on. Twilight couldn’t fathom how badly that had to hurt, to lose the only constant thing in her life…

…Luna stared forward blankly, mulling over Twilight’s words. After a long moment, she uttered one word: “Continue.”

Twilight nodded, taking a deep breath. “I… in the chaos of everything, I guess I never really got the chance to apologize to you. To truly apologize, I mean,” Twilight mumbled, the words starting to pour out faster and faster the more she spoke. “I… I know that what I did was unforgivable, but I need you to know that I didn’t do what I did with the intent of harming you. I hadn’t thought about the effect the Elements would have on you, only on the Nightmare, and I… I… I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how terrible it must feel, to have lost everything. Your magic, your immortality, your health… I’m so, sorry, Luna. I’m sorry. I know it’s not enough, but I hope that you can forgive me.”

Luna’s reply was cold and soft, delivered like a gentle dagger directly to the gut. “…It’s more than that, you know.”

Twilight didn’t reply; she didn’t trust herself to. So she waited for Luna to continue.

"My one and only sister cannot even be bothered to see me in the flesh. So she sends you, of all ponies, in her stead—how do you think that feels?”

Twilight watched Luna become increasingly more worked up as she talked. Her words were still spoken gently and expressively, but they were filled with the most raw, most unadulterated, most painful truth imaginable. Somehow, it stung a thousand times more than the blunt aggression Luna had displayed yesterday. This version of Luna… she felt far more real.

“Meanwhile,” Luna continued, “I cannot even breathe without it feeling as though my lungs are going to collapse in on themselves. Perhaps I'll get better with the passage of time, but it does not matter in the slightest. My time is finite and I’ve lost my magic. You whisked my entire future from me whilst I was unable to defend myself, and now I'm nothing but another pony.”

“No… I’m less that that,” Luna added.

A long silence passed by. Twilight pursed her lips.

“Twilight Sparkle…” she continued, “do you even realize that I can no longer raise my moon? …The moon and the stars, they were the only things I ever had. They were the only things that were mine in this world. And now they're gone. I… I truly have nothing. Do you realize, Twilight Sparkle? Do you realize? You cannot possibly understand everything you’ve taken from me. So I’m sorry if I cannot look you directly in the eyes. I’m sorry if I cannot forgive you. I’m sorry if I don’t think that I ever will. But that… that is simply the way that it is.”

Twilight swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes dry and puffy. She stared at Luna, whose gaze still remained directly on her lap. It stung all the more, not being able to see just how hurt she was.

“I… I understand,” Twilight said. “Thank you for listening, at least.”

Another pause. Then, Twilight could visibly see Luna’s jaw tense as she struggled to hold back her anger. “Now please, Twilight Sparkle, leave me be."

Without needing to be told twice, Twilight turned and exited the room. As soon as she was out of earshot, she began to run, galloping full speed away from that forsaken hospital room and out into the blinding light of day, feeling more broken and more helpless than she had before exchanging words with Luna.

And as she ran, the judgmental looks of perfect strangers boring into her like knives, she realized that she wasn’t sure what she had expected before walking into that room. It needed to be done, yes, but there was no way Luna ever would be able to forgive her. Of course there she wouldn’t. How could Twilight have been so stupid?

Twilight needed to talk to someone, anyone. But… she had nowhere to go. Talking with Celestia was out of the question. Her new friends were too far away, and she wasn’t entirely ready to throw herself at them just yet—not when she was this much of a trainwreck. She did have one place left to turn to, though…

It was a strange feeling, knocking on the door of your childhood home. Once upon a time, Twilight could’ve entered unannounced and pranced her way up to her room without anyone batting an eye. But years and years had passed since then, and even if the house feltthe same as it did back then, everything else had changed drastically.

A few moments after she knocked, Twilight heard her mother’s sing-song voice call out to her. Then, suddenly, the door flew inward so quickly that Twilight felt herself tumble forward, and before she could regain her balance, her mother let out a gasp and pulled her into a tight embrace.

“Twilight!” she cried out. “I’m so proud of you! Saving the world—your brother ought to be jealous of you, he should!”

…Proud?

…

…Oh.

Yeah. That.

“Hi, mom,” Twilight managed to croak out, trying not to suffocate from her mother’s strangle-hug.

“Sweetie, I’m so glad you decided to stop by. I just—” Twilight Velvet pulled away to get a look at her daughter’s face. Her smile faltered. “Twilight…? Are you alright?”

“Do you have time to talk, mom?”

“Of course,” she replied. “Come inside, dear, it’s cold out. I’ll start some tea while you gather your thoughts, alright?”

Soon enough, the two of them were settled down on the couch with a cup of chamomile tea in-hoof. And with a deep breath, Twilight went back the beginning: the very beginning, before she was sent to Ponyville in the first place, and told her mother everything.

It took six and a half cups of tea—each—but eventually her mother was entirely caught up on the situation Twilight was facing.

“Well, you’ve certainly gotten yourself into quite the predicament, now haven’t you?” her mother said.

“Yeah, you could definitely say that.” Twilight smiled half-heartedly. “But how do I get out? I don’t want to upset Princess Celestia by going against her wishes, especially since she’s never asked anything of this magnitude of me before, but I also don’t want to hurt Luna any more than I already have. I just… I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you tried talking to Princess Celestia?” Twilight Velvet asked.

“Yesterday morning, yes.”

Twilight Velvet shook her head. “No, I mean really talking to her. I know how passive you can be, Twilight. Did you really assert yourself? Maybe she just thought you were exaggerating.”

“Even if I wasn’t firm enough, Luna told her point blank that she didn’t want me there. If that didn’t get the message across, I don’t know what will.”

Her mom pursed her lips. “You never know. I think it’s worth a shot still. From what you were saying, it seems like Princess Celestia has been pretty distant lately, so maybe she did honestly misunderstand you.”

Twilight sighed. “I… I suppose I can try to talk to her tomorrow, but what if it doesn’t work? What do I do then?”

“Well, then you’re stuck with Luna, right?” she asked. “Do everything you can to get on her good side. Be polite, stay out of her way, maybe even buy her a small gift or something—whatever you think that she would want. In time she will warm up to you.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work either,” Twilight replied. “She was pretty adamant about me staying away. I think showing up again would only make things even worse.”

“I… I’m not sure what to tell you, Twily. You’re in quite the pickle,” Twilight Velvet said. “Of course, you could always go and see your friends back in Ponyville. Staying away from Canterlot might do you some good. Talking it out with ponies your age will help, too.”

Twilight nodded softly. “I… I think I’d like that, but I don’t want to overwhelm them with my problems. I’ve only really known them for a week, after all.”

“It’s worth a shot. I say that you should go. And besides, I’m sure they miss you just as much as you miss them.”

“I… I’ll think about it,” Twilight said. Her mind automatically jumped to the unsent letter sitting on her desk from last night. She couldn’t help but second guess herself. Was it right for her to send it? She didn’t want to burden them with her troubles—they were hers and hers alone. This whole predicament was rather heavy, and she would hate to encumber them with it. Perhaps she should just burn that silly letter…

Twilight Velvet paused for a moment then sighed, seeing the strained look on Twilight’s face. “If all else fails, dear, just remember to give it time. Time heals all wounds.”

Twilight clutched her legs closer to her chest. Barely audible, Twilight mumbled, “Yeah, but if there were ever a wound time couldn’t heal, it would probably be this one.”

Her mom’s face contorted into a frown. “Sweetie…” she said, leaning over and wrapping her hooves around Twilight, pulling her into the comforting kind of hug only mothers can give. “I know it might not seem like it now, but I promise that everything will turn out fine—and you know that I would never break one of our promises.”

Twilight snuggled into her mother’s embrace, hiding from the rest of the world. A moment of silence passed between them before either of them spoke.

“…And besides,” Twilight Velvet added, “if it comes down to it and you’re a renegade on the run from the law, I’m sure your brother wouldn’t mind keeping you hidden. I know your father and I would do the same, but this would be the first place they’d come looking for you.”

“…”

“…I love you, mom.”

“I love you too, Twily.”

Suddenly, a very masculine voice grunted from somewhere behind them. They both turned to see Twilight’s father standing in the open doorway, one eyebrow raised cautiously. After making eye contact with both of them, he exhaled loudly through his nose. “Well, I think I’m going to go ahead and pretend that I didn’t hear anything. Carry on then, you two.”

As the door to her parent’s home closed behind her, Twilight let out a sigh of relief. Or a sigh of something close to relief—relief was an emotion pretty far out of her grasp at the moment—but she’d certainly walked out of that familiar doorway feeling much better than she had entering it.

With that sublime feeling of almost-contentment deep in her gut, she pressed onward toward Canterlot Castle, placing one hoof in front of another. She decided to walk slowly; it would be nice to enjoy in the fresh air while she could.

The rest of the evening had gone rather well. Once she’d explained everything to her father, he’d given her much the same advice as her mother had, albeit with significantly more anger at Celestia and her role in Twilight’s dilemma. It was decidedly unjustified, of course, but it made Twilight feel a lot better, even if her parents were obligated to always be on her side no matter how wrong she might be.

While she was explaining everything to her dad, her mother had floated off to the kitchen to cook dinner for them. For that, Twilight was extremely grateful. It hadn’t even mattered what it was at the time; any home-cooked meal was comfort food, and comfort was exactly what she needed in that moment. Then, once everyone finished eating, they shared a few more hugs and Twilight was off once again.

Leisurely trotting down the empty streets of Canterlot, Twilight mulled over her tentative plan. For right now, she would just head back to her room. The sun had begun to slip beneath the horizon, and she didn’t quite have the strength to see either Princess Celestia or Luna quite yet. Tomorrow morning, though, she would sit down with Celestia and explain her conflict in its entirety. Hopefully Celestia would understand, but perhaps she wouldn’t. Either way, she would ask Celestia to head back to Ponyville for a time in order to see her friends, which hopefully she would agree to regardless.

Naturally there were a lot of ways for this plan to go awry. Things likely wouldn’t run quite as smoothly as she had planned (as per usual), but it felt good to have a general sense of direction. And as she rapidly neared the castle gates, that was just about the only thing that did feel good.

Wanting to avoid an accidental run-in with any of the ponies she was trying to avoid, Twilight used the dark to her advantage, blending in as much as she could and slowly slinking her way toward her room. She could have teleported, but she decided not to risk it; doing so always left a strong magical signature, and she didn’t want the guards thinking there was something wrong.

Soon enough, she made it to the bottom of the same old spiral stairway. With her daily sigh of irritation, she started her ascent. When she eventually did reach the top, she didn’t bother to stop to gather her bearings. Instead she simply plowed right through the door and into the room, locking it behind her without a second thought.

Surprisingly, the room was untouched from that morning. Her sheets were still tousled and her blinds still pulled firmly shut. Even though the castle maids hadn’t been there to clean, however, something was different:

On her desk, resting directly atop Twilight’s own unsent letter, was another letter addressed to her. Curious, she plodded over and levitated it into her line of sight. After staring blankly at it, almost as though it would somehow unravel itself, she carefully opened it and began to read.

Dear Twilight,

I hope everything is going well in Canterlot. Things are finally seeming to settle back down for the rest of us; the other ponies were treating us differently at first, always telling us that we were heroes now (you especially!) but that’s mostly stopped in the last few days. I’m glad that they are appreciative, but I’m probably more glad that we’re not really in the spotlight anymore. Rainbow absolutely loves it, though. I’m sure she’ll be rather upset once this all finally blows over.

Most of the structural damage to the town has been rebuilt, too. The normal hustle and bustle of everyday life is starting to take over again. Oh, and it’s almost harvesting season, too! Applejack says she can’t wait for you to try her cider, since you never got the chance to in the chaos of everything. Sorry if this all seems a little silly—not a ton else has gone on in the past few days—but we all wanted to keep you posted with everything, even if it is a tad silly.

Anyway, I’m writing you on behalf of the rest of the girls as well. We all just wanted to reach out and let you know that we miss you and that we’re worried about you. We know this is a stressful time for you, and we know you hold yourself responsible, but you really shouldn’t. You did everything you could, and you saved the world. Asking any more of you would be absurd. Don’t forget that.

If you get the chance (I’m sure you’re incredibly busy), we would absolutely love to hear from you. Again, we’re worried about you. Just remember that we’ll always be right here if you need anything.

With Love,

Fluttershy (and Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash)

P.S. I miss you too! Hope I get to see you again soon. Fluttershy is fun and all, but I miss hanging out with you. –Spike

Twilight’s jaw clenched. She felt her heart drop in her gut like an anchor. The letter fell from her grasp and gently fluttered down to the floor, landing face down underneath the desk. She didn’t pick it up. She simply stood there, statuesque, rooted in her spot. The entire castle was silent.

For the first time in an eternity, Twilight cried.