Now there is nothing. For thousands of years, both before and after I was born, there was something. There were many things, in fact—trees, birds, squirrels, balloons, candles, apples… I learned the names of everything when I was young, but now I have no use for the words, except in memory.
Now there is nothing. I only see my hooves, and my mother. She is asleep, breathing slowly. As she exhales, her flesh clings closely to her ribs. There hasn't been food in… what? Years? Decades? Centuries? It hardly matters. I have lost the meaning of those particular words. In any case, we do not eat. We do not eat, yet we do not starve. It is part of the magic with which we are imbued. The hunger pangs stopped rather quickly, anyway.
We are lying in what used to be my parents' bedroom. The stone floor and walls echo our soft breathing back to us. All is dark.
Mom shifts in her sleep, and I see her eyes flutter open. I give her a kiss.
“Hello, Flurry Heart,” she says. “Did you sleep well?”
I nod. “What about you?”
She hesitates. “I did, I suppose, only I… dreamed about your father again.”
I keep my silence; there's really nothing to say to this. I used to have dreams about Dad, too, but as of late, they are few and far between. Mom, however, seems to dream about him whenever she closes her eyes for more than a few minutes.
“I dreamed about our wedding day,” she goes on. “I wish you could have seen it. Your aunt and all her friends were there, and it was so beautiful.”
“This is the same wedding where an evil creature impersonated you and basically tried to eat Dad?”
“Well, yes, but after that,” she says, glaring at me.
“I know, Mom,” I say, nuzzling her. “You've told me this story at least a hundred times, you know.”
“I know you probably get tired of hearing about it, but it really was the happiest day of my life. That, and the day we got you.”
“You miss Dad, don't you?”
“More and more all the time. Don't you?”
“Of course I do, but I don't think anypony misses him as much as you do.”
“Well, your Aunt Twilight might have a thing or two to say about that. Your dad was a great guy, and he touched a lot of ponies. I think even Celestia and Luna miss him, in their way.”
We lapse into silence as she finishes this speech. Sometimes, talking to Mom, I get the feeling that I don't think about Dad as often as I should. It's not that I didn't love him—I loved my daddy just as much if not more than any other little filly. It's just that he's been gone for so long. I've had so much more time with Mom, Aunt Twilight, the other princesses. All my memories of Dad are so hazy now.
Then, there's the pain. When I try to remember Dad, I get this unbearable pain inside me, like somepony wrapped my heart in barbed wire. I can't think about him for too long, or else I start to cry, and I hate it when Mom sees me crying nowadays. I'm a centuries-old grown mare, and thinking about my dad still makes me want to cry like a foal.
And under the pain, there's a white-hot little ember of anger. When I was old enough, Mom, Dad, and Aunt Twilight sat me down and told me what was so special about my birth. Apparently, I'm the first pony—the only pony, actually—to have been born an alicorn. The other princesses had to do something special, something extraordinary, to become alicorns.
I didn't think much of that talk at the time, and not for years and years afterward. It wasn't until I was a bit older, and I noticed that Dad was looking a lot older. His mane and tail had gone almost as white as his coat, his eyes seemed a little cloudy, and he walked more slowly and unsteadily every day. Soon enough, it was clear to me and everypony else that Dad was going to die.
And the thing that really baffled me was Mom, who seemed to be her usual spry self. She hadn't aged a day.
The more I thought about it, the less I liked it. Dad's condition deteriorated to the point that we had to put him in a nursing home. One day, just weeks before his death, it came to me. Dad wasn't an alicorn. It was so obvious, but I couldn't accept it. If ponies were made alicorns because they accomplished great feats, then why wasn't my dad one? I'd heard all about his accolades as Captain of the Royal Guard, and later witnessed quite a few of his accomplishments as Prince of the Crystal Empire. If anypony deserved to be an alicorn, it was him.
And here I was, not having done anything to earn my position. I was just born into it.
When he passed, Mom, Aunt Twilight and I were all in horrible shape. Twilight helped a little bit with the funeral arrangements—I think she found it comforting—but Mom and I spent days holed up in our private chambers in the Crystal Castle. We didn't eat, and we barely slept. Mostly we cried and held each other; we didn't know what else we could do.
“Are you thinking about him?” Mom's voice interrupts my thoughts.
I nod.
“Me too,” Mom says, “but then, I'm almost always thinking about him.”
I see tears glistening in her eyes, and I lean in and kiss her cheek. Aunt Twilight, Luna, and Celestia are far away now, but I wish they could see Mom. I wish they could see what immortality is.
There was a day, about a month after Dad's funeral, that I went to see Princess Celestia. Mom let me take the train to Canterlot by myself, but only after I reminded her that I was almost eighty years old.
I made my way from the train station to the Canterlot Castle. As I passed the gate, a little pang of grief shot through me. Two unicorn stallions stood there, both decked out in full Royal Guard armor. I was forcefully reminded of Dad's armor. He'd shown it to me several times during his life, and it was now on display next to the Crystal Heart, in a gesture of public mourning.
Swallowing the sudden lump in my throat, I passed the guards and went up to Celestia and Luna's throne room. My hoofsteps echoed in the lofty chamber as I came up to the high seat.
“My dear Flurry Heart,” Celestia said. “Your mother told us you were coming. Are you okay?”
“No,” I said.
“I don't suppose you would be,” Luna said. “We are very sorry about Shining Armor.”
“Indeed we are,” said Celestia. She wrapped a foreleg around my neck and embraced me.
“Um… could we talk somewhere… more private?” I said.
“Of course,” Celestia said.
They bade me follow them. We left the throne room through a side door, which led to a tightly spiraling staircase. We emerged onto a landing, from which two doors could be seen. Celestia and Luna ushered me into Celestia's private bedchamber.
Inside, the room was decorated with crimson silk hangings and a huge canopy bed to match. A little removed from the bed was a small area with a sofa and chairs. They led me here and we sat down. All of us were silent for some moments, and then I began to speak.
“Thank you both for receiving me on such short notice,” I said.
“It is no trouble,” said Celestia.
“Tis indeed an honor,” said Luna.
“Well, thanks anyway. I just needed somepony to talk to, but Mom's not much in the mood to talk to anypony these days.”
They nodded. “Twilight Sparkle has also been rather secluded and secretive recently,” Luna said.
“Right,” I said, “and I had this problem that only a fellow alicorn could help me out with.”
“We will try our best,” said Celestia. “Though, I must warn you, there are things about alicorn magic that nopony knows, not even us.”
“We were the first of our kind,” added Luna, “and as such, we had to figure out what we do know about alicorn magic all on our own.”
“I understand,” I said. “The thing I was wondering is, do we ever die?”
Celestia was speechless for just a moment, but then she swallowed and answered. “As to that, nopony knows for sure. Your aunt is just over one hundred years old, your mother is nearly two hundred, and my sister and I are pushing three thousand. To all appearances, it looks as though we do not die. At the very least, an alicorn's life span is exponentially longer than that of a normal pony.”
“Though,” Luna said, “when your mother told us you were coming, we did not expect a question such as this.”
“But we should have,” said Celestia. “It is after all only natural, my sister. Do you not remember when our parents passed away?”
Luna nodded. “Of course.”
“What happened,” I said, “when your parents died?”
“We spent ages, years in fact, wondering if we were going to die,” answered Celestia, “but we didn't have anypony to go to for advice.”
“So you never found out for sure?” I said.
“Well, no,” said Luna, “but as time went by, I guess we became more and more sure of our own immortality.”
“And did you ever stop missing your parents?” I said.
Celestia looked at me and shook her head slowly. “Of course not, my dear.”
Luna had lowered her head and was fiddling with a loose thread in the sofa. “We still miss them. We still think about them all the time.”
“Yes, we do,” said Celestia, “and Luna knows I still dream about them as well.”
Luna looked up at her. “Yes, of course I do; I just didn't know if you wanted to share that information, dear sister.”
“It's okay,” Celestia said. “I think our dear Flurry Heart needs all the help she can get.”
They both looked at me with such sympathy I could feel my cheeks getting hot. “Th-thank you,” I said. “I just… I guess this is a lot to take in. I'm going to have to live without my dad for millenia.”
“I'm afraid so,” said Celestia.
“Does it… does it ever stop hurting?”
Celestia sighed. “Never fully. It does get easier with time, but...” She trailed off.
“But it always feels like something is missing,” Luna finished.
In the weeks since Dad's funeral, I'd managed to bury the pain deep inside me. But this talk—the talk I'd wanted, needed to have—had undone all of my hard work. My eyes stung and I felt a tear roll down my face. I'd never asked for any of this. I hadn't understood it when I was a filly, but being an alicorn was a kind of waking nightmare. I had to go on, losing more and more ponies that I loved, until the literal end of time. And ponies thought being an alicorn was some sort of reward. I'd like to see them try it for a few decades, or centuries. What kind of sick twist of fate forces something like that on a baby who can't even talk yet?
I stared straight ahead, not looking at Luna and Celestia so much as through them. “My dad,” I murmured, mostly to myself.
“Yes, we will all miss him very much,” Luna said.
“He should have been the alicorn,” I said. “Not me.”
They stared at me, looking unsure of what they should say next. “Of course,” Celestia said, “Shining Armor more than deserved a place of honor, but do not sell yourself short, my dear.”
“Why?” I said. “I never did one thing to deserve this. Now, my mom's lost the love of her life, my aunt's lost her brother, and I've lost my only dad. He should have been made an alicorn.”
“Flurry Heart—” said Luna.
“Why wasn't he?” I said.
“Pardon?” said Celestia.
“Why wasn't he made an alicorn?”
“Nopony can answer that,” Celestia said gently. “There are a great many theories about alicorn magic, but not even Starswirl the Bearded was able to pinpoint precisely why certain ponies are chosen to ascend.”
“That doesn't make any sense,” I said, sniffing.
“Well, in Equestria, the very land has a magic all its own,” said Luna.
“Yes, and the best anypony can tell, Equestria itself chooses who is allowed to ascend,” Celestia said. “There doesn't appear to be any rhyme or reason to it, but the land seems to know something the ponies don't. It chooses the ponies who have the potential for great leadership inside them, and these ponies ascend when they bring that potential to fruition in some great, world-changing deed.”
I rubbed my hoof across my forehead. “But my dad never did anything great enough?”
They were silent.
“Well?” I said. “That is what you're telling me, isn't it?”
“That is not… not what we meant,” said Celestia. “Shining Armor was a great stallion in his own way—greater than all of us, in many ways—but Equestria searches for a different kind of greatness in those it chooses for ascension.”
“Then why was I born this way?”
“Alas, nopony is certain,” said Luna. “Yours is a case we have not seen before or since. Rest assured, however, that your destiny will reveal itself in due time.”
I shook my head. “I don't know,” I said. “I don't feel special.”
“Nothing in life is certain,” said Celestia, “but magic as powerful as that which made you an alicorn doesn't happen without reason.”
“Thanks, I guess,” I said. “I think I'll be going now. Mom probably wants me back by tonight.”
“I understand,” said Celestia. “We were greatly honored by your visit. Please don't hesitate to write to us or come visit us again, if you ever need anything.”
“Okay,” I said. “Goodbye.”
I made my way back down the stairs, out of the castle, and back through the throngs of the city to the train station. As I boarded the train, and it began to move, I asked myself what I'd been expecting.
All these years later, and I still don't have an answer. I don't know what exactly I was expecting that day; I just know it was a lot more than what I got. Recalling Celestia and Luna's words, they still sound hollow in my ears, feel hollow in my soul. Empty cliches and you'll-understand-when-you're-older. I'm a lot older now, and I still don't understand. It seems like adult ponies are always telling children they'll understand when they get older, but from where I'm standing, it seems like the biggest lie ever perpetrated on ponykind. If anything, things got less clear as I got older.
I look at Mom again. Lying in the ashy darkness, her face streaked with grime and old tears, she looks as forlorn as I feel.
“Mom?” I say, my voice straining just a little.
“Yes?”
“Did anypony ever tell you why alicorns have to live forever?”
“No.” I hear her take a shaky breath.
“Did you ever come up with an answer on your own?”
Another rattling breath. “No.”
