Twilight sat on her haunches in front of a great oak tree in the Whitetail Woods. She sobbed quietly to herself. Today... today was always a tough day for her. Everypony gave her space and offered soft words as she left, but nopony knew. Nopony knew the exact details of why she traveled for hours to cry in front of a tree like all the others around it. Like, but not exact. The tree she sat in front of today was the oldest, grandest. In some ways, most heartwrenching.
Tears streamed down her face and impacted on the soft soil beneath her hooves. Roots, leaves, broken branches. Ponies may have maintained the trails, but around here, the trees and the forest maintained themselves. Twilight figured she was the only pony to ever come out and water them.
A gentle spring breeze blew past her. She barely registered her earlier shivering. It was a clear day, same as the one so many years ago. It always felt like it was supposed to rain; it didn’t feel right otherwise. Bright morning sunshine pierced the canopy. Tweets and birdsongs flitted through the air, unhindered and unwelcome.
Twilight choked on her latest sob. A quick rustling of hooves and suddenly Twilight found herself wrapped in a tight embrace of an ethereal cloak and alabaster feathers. She wailed. Celestia held her tighter.
“Sssh, Twilight. I’m here. I’m always here,” she repeated, over and over until Twilight’s sobs died down into a fitful sleep.
Twilight woke to the grating ring of her alarm clock. She slapped it off and slid out of bed, grumbling the whole way to the bathroom. She flipped the tap of the shower on and waited for the water to heat up. She brushed a few tangles out of her mane and tested the water with her hoof; just warm enough to not freeze the moment she stepped in, she reasoned, so it would have to do. She rinsed herself off, applied a bit of shampoo, rinsed, conditioned, and rinsed again before stepping out of the now hot water and then dried herself off from horn to hoof.
She almost made to the bathroom door uninterrupted when she heard a light ruffling and soft hooting from the other side. She raced to open the door with her magic and Owlowiscious looked up at her and hooted softly.
He waddled forward, avoiding his left leg. Twilight scooped him up into her forelegs and cradled him; his hoots quieted down and he relaxed, for which she couldn’t express her gratitude.
She steeled herself and set her jaw. A glance down confirmed her fear: his leg was badly swollen. Antibiotics and the pain medicine he’d been taking hadn’t worked. Tears threatened to burst forth, but she was resolute. She held him and nuzzled his forehead, murmuring soft words of love and encouragement as much for herself as for him.
“Spike?” she called, quietly at first, and louder the second time. “Spike? I need you upstairs, please!”
The heavier click of Spike’s claws against the crystal floors echoed down the hall to announce her assistant’s arrival.
He poked his head in the room and sidled in, asking, “Yeah, Twilight? I almost got started on breakfast. Honey roasted oats!”
“Spike, I need you to get some parchment, a quill, and something we can take for breakfast on our way to Fluttershy’s, alright? I need to take Owlowiscious to see her.” Twilight still sat with the poor owl in her forelegs as she leaned against the wall to remain upright.
“Is... is he going to be alright?”
Twilight forced herself to smile and blinked away tears. “He’s... we’ll take him to Fluttershy and we’ll see.” She nodded rapidly. “It’ll be OK.”
Spike warily walked out of the room and Twilight shifted herself so she could summon a basket for Owlowiscious. She briefly considered walking out of town, but that idea went out the window. Flying was faster, and time seemed to be of the essence.
She tucked Owlowiscious into the basket and kissed his forehead to a soft coo. A pair of tears rolled down her cheeks. “It’ll be OK. We’re going to get you to the vet and it’ll be OK.” Her voice caught in her throat. “Alright?”
Spike returned with an armful of breakfast and writing supplies. Twilight surreptitiously wiped her eyes and tucked everything into a saddlebag and instructed Spike to hop on her back. She lifted the basket and took off as gently as she could.
She told herself the tears and clenched eyes were from the wind whipping in her face. Twilight was lying an awful lot this morning.
“Fluttershy!” Twilight nearly shouted, pounding on her friend’s wooden door. “Fluttershy, please! I need your help!” Random animal noises from within greeted her, but she couldn’t hear hoofsteps. “Fluttershy! It’s Owlowiscious.”
She almost toppled into the front room when the door yanked open.
“Oh no! Twilight, is... is he...?”
Twilight steadied herself onto her hooves and then held out the basket. She flipped aside the blankets and showed her owl’s grossly swollen leg.
“He’s not in pain, is he?” Fluttershy gingerly reached out her hoof and softly stroked his head.
He turned to face the pegasus and hooted quietly. No energy, but no pain either. Twilight shook her head.
“Twilight, why don’t we, um, step inside for a moment?” Fluttershy ushered all three of them in without waiting for a response. Once Twilight and Spike were seated on the sofa with Owlowiscious between them and a gentle hoof and claw rubbing him, Fluttershy spoke up. “He didn’t respond to the antibiotics, did he?”
“No,” Twilight breathed out. “He didn’t.”
“But he’s been struggling, hasn’t he? Not in pain, but he’s always tired, restless, trying to get comfortable?”
Twilight nodded and swallowed hard. Old age had robbed Owlowiscious of much of his energy, but the past few months had been an increasing struggle. The occasional limp, the awkward sleeping positions.
Fluttershy rested a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “We need to take him to Ponyville General. They... they have nurses and the right facilities. Twilight,” Fluttershy paused and wiped her own tears away, “I... I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I think it’s time to say goodbye. We knew if he didn’t get better with the pills, it was cancer, and he’d lose his leg. He’s getting on in years. If... well, you know. If he makes it, he’ll struggle every day. But the choice is yours.”
Tears streamed freely down Twilight’s face and she sniffled. She nodded and collected her things slowly while Fluttershy lifted the basket with Owlowiscious.
The walk to the hospital was a blur. Twilight shuffled along behind Fluttershy, each glance at her suffering pet brought fresh tears. Spike held tightly to her back, and she knew not all of the tears soaking her coat were hers.
Fluttershy guided them into the hospital. She spoke to the triage nurse and led them further in. She sat with Twilight and Spike for a moment before being called out by one of the doctors. Twilight and Spike were alone with Owlowiscious once more.
Twilight rubbed both of their backs. She leaned against Spike and suppressed a sob. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”
“Me too, Twi. But, it’s... we don’t want him to... to go through any more.”
Twilight shook her head and tried to wipe away more tears, but the water welled faster than she could manage. Everything was a blur again.
Fluttershy knocked on the door to their room and stepped in, flanked by a pair of nurses. “Twilight? We’re going to get him hooked up for an IV catheter, alright, we’ll back in a moment.”
Twilight nodded dumbly and Fluttershy scooped up Owlowiscious and cooed gentle reassurances while she walked out of the room.
Spike leaped into Twilight and hugged her tight. She hugged back equally tight. “We’ll be OK. It’s the right call,” she whispered. She still didn’t know if she was telling the truth.
Deep breaths and the rustle of hair on scales filled the room until the door clicked open. Owlowiscious looked from his perch of Fluttershy’s forelegs to Twilight and hooted. He tried to rustle his wings to fly over to her, but Twilight beat him to it and picked him out of Fluttershy’s outstretched legs.
“Hey, Owlowiscious. Hey,” she said. She walked back to the corner of the room and sat down so Spike could pet him, too.
“Whenever you’re ready, Twilight.” Fluttershy set a bell down on the table next to them and stepped back out of the room.
Between the two of them, Twilight and Spike hugged Owlowiscious close and told him how much they loved him, how good he always was to them, how much they’d miss him. It would never be enough. Owlowiscious continued to coo and hoot softly with a smile on his face, in spite of his labored breathing and shifting leg.
It took several long, teary minutes before Twilight nodded to Spike and he rang the bell. He looked back at her for a moment before casting his eyes down. He knew.
Fluttershy led a nurse and the veterinarian into the room and they all sat on the floor. Fluttershy sat next to Twilight and wrapped a wing over her back. Spike clung tightly to Twilight’s foreleg.
“Twilight?” asked the vet. “I’m so sorry. I know how hard this is for you and your family. Are you ready?”
Twilight closed her eyes and barely nodded. “I don’t think I ever will be. But... it’s time.”
The vet explained the whole process; the first injection would make Owlowiscious go limp and relax him. The next would slow his breathing. And the third and final one would stop his heart and he’d drift off to an eternal sleep.
Twilight and Spike stroked Owlowiscious as each IV was drained into the catheter in his good leg. First, he collapsed into Twilight’s lap. Slowly, he stopped moving, having gone completely, utterly limp. They watched as he slipped away and said their final goodbyes. Twilight ran her hoof across his back, not willing to let herself hold him any closer, lest she never let go.
Longer than it took to say their first goodbyes, Twilight and Spike stayed with a still Owlowiscious. A gentle nudge from Fluttershy and Twilight turned to her. A meaningful glance and a much needed hug prompted Twilight to nod. Fluttershy slid her hooves underneath the owl. One final time, Owlowiscious was scooped up, and walked out of the room to prepare for his burial arrangements.
Twilight finally broke down and wailed. She sobbed, cried, and screamed her grief until there was no more breath, no more tears, and nothing left but the emptiness.
“She arranged for this tree, you know. Fluttershy did. She had it donated in his honor.” Twilight said quietly. She wiped her eyes and allowed herself to remain held in Celestia’s warm embrace.
A small engraved granite plaque near the base of the tree agreed. “For Owlowiscious Sparkle, beloved assistant” it read in glossy black lettering.
“I’m sure he would’ve loved it.” Celestia whispered. “I’m sure they all do.”
“Fluttershy said she did it for every pet owner who came to her. She wanted them to have a living tribute to whatever creature made their lives better, that the tree might help other creatures by providing a home, food, a place to relax. I think there’s a family of bluebirds who’ve nested in Owlowiscious’ tree for a while now. It’s a pleasant thought.”
Twilight took a deep breath. A few tears slid down her face.
“Now, I’m glad it’s here to remind me that life is... that life is precious. I don’t care how short a time it feels now, but back then.” She took several deep breaths and wiped a few tears from her eyes. “Back then, he was such a huge part of my life. I had him for decades. I knew... eventually.” She trailed off and swallowed.
Twilight hugged tighter to Celestia. “I knew that I’d outlive a lot of my friends, pony or otherwise. But it was hardest to say goodbye to family, you know?”
“I do know,” Celestia whispered. She wrapped her great white wings around Twilight and clutched her close to her chest. “But you are not alone. It’s hard to lose someone you care so much about. I was lucky, I know, that Luna was only gone for 1000 years. But that can be a long time, even for us.”
Twilight dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. “I miss him. I miss all of them.”
“We all do, and we always will.” Celestia stroked Twilight’s mane and rocked back and forth. “But take heart: their spirits stay with you, and the memories you shared will never truly be gone. And that, that is what matters. Owlowiscious made a difference in your life, and that difference lives on inside of you.”
Twilight nodded and took another deep breath. She disentangled herself from Celestia’s embrace and turned to face the plaque. Her hoof brushed against the smooth surface, warmed by the long-gone heat of the day. She looked up at the imposing oak tree behind it.
“Goodbye, Owlowiscious. I miss you. You were a good friend, and I can’t... can’t help but wish you could still be here. I miss my junior assistant.”
Celestia nudged Twilight up and they walked in the dark veil of night away from the tree, passing more and more plaques.
“For Sunset Shimmer, devoted friend and savior of worlds”
“For Twilight Velvet, beloved mother and wife”
“For Night Light, beloved father and husband”
“For Starlight Glimmer, the first student and lifelong friend”
“For Shining Armor, B.B.B.F.F.”
“For Aurora Sparkle, adopted beacon of hope and light”
And the names went on and on. Dozens of trees. Dozens of plaques.
Twilight would be back. There were more friends to visit yet.
Five new saplings, barely taller than the barrel-high granite posts bearing carefully engraved plaques, stood in a once-clear section of the forest not far from where they were talking.
“For Rarity, a beautiful heart with generosity for all”
“For Pinkie Pie, laughter for all and all for laughter”
“For Rainbow Dash, unending loyalty”
“For Applejack, honesty without reservations”
“For Fluttershy, kind actions louder than words”
“For the five greatest friends a mare could ask for, an enduring monument to the lives who enriched a nation and its newest princess. May all those who walk here know that love and friendship last forever.”
