Cadence awoke.
She blinked as her eyes adapted to the dim light from the moonlight shafting through the window above her bed, the last traces of a fading nightmare weighing over her conscious mind. Her terrible reality came into focus like a nebulous memory trying to be recollected.
She hated waking up; because after unconsciousness always came the same thing: Seeing her husband, Shining Armor, lying next to her.
The realization settled quickly, and reality brought guilt and dread, both of which were something Cadence was all too familiar with.
She forcefully smiled at all she had lost and gained.
Cadence glanced at Shining sleeping in the bed. “Hmm.” Cadence paused. Thoughts arose. “What did you ever do to deserve this?” She cast the thin blanket aside as she rose from the bed.
She groaned in pain as her hooves touched the ground. Two weeks sleeping with a full grown stallion in a small, cramped bed wasn’t exactly the best place for comfortable sleep. The small room wasn’t helping the matters any. If anything, the pain in her limbs had only grown in severity from the confined space, causing other bodily problems for her. She didn’t care about the pain, though. Not so long she was with her husband.
As she stood and stretched in a midnight exercise, her muscles protested her efforts and she felt the urge to lay on the cold, hard, tiled floor. She prevailed in working out a kink that was most annoying before smiling again.
It was her familiar ritual: Getting up at night, going to the sink (by the door) to wash her face, staring at the star-painted sky, and pondering the things she had done wrong—everything that lead her and Shining to where they were.
She carried out her ritual without fail.
She first went over to the sink, its metallic chrome sheen idly being. Above the sink was a mirror. The mirror she loathed to look into reflected her visage, an image she hated. “I hate you,” she said as she looked at the frowning mare.
A sigh.
Guilt. Sorrow. Regret.
She turned around and looked at the clock. 2:21 AM. Same time as always. “Guess I get to go stare at the moon now.” She felt the moon was one of the only constants in her life and it brought her some joy.
There was a wooden chair near the windowsill to the left of the bed for her to sit on, and on the windowsill were an assortment of flowers and cards wishing Cadence and Shining well. She walked over softly, lest the clopping of her hooves on stone would wake Shining, she sat down, then cast her gaze over the nightly vista.
It was a rainy night; hazy, foggy, ominous. The moon shone in harp strings through the cloud cover, but it was weak and feeble.
Cadence would sit there for hours until the sun rose. When the light cascaded into the room and washed over her face, she would crawl back into bed with Shining, who would still be sleeping ever so proudly, silently, and serenely.
And she did.
Celestia’s waning sun rose from the horizon later that morning, casting shafts of brilliant orange light into their room—a contrasting shadow strewing on her face. The sun, too, was one of the few things that made Cadence happy.
It was a little past noon hour now, and just as she was about to crawl into bed, a knock sounded at the door.
Cadence looked at it, but remained silent. Silence. What a concept in this place. She averted her attention by staring down at Shining sleeping and forcing a smile.
“Cadence? Are you awake? I thought I’d come in and see how you two are doing.”
No, Twilight, don’t. I’ve already told you over and over. Go away. We’re fine!
The door opened further without Cadence’s assent. She heard her sister approaching, but instead of greeting her sister-in-law, she averted her gaze to the shattered mirror on the wall. On and through the fragmented shards, Twilight could make out a distorted reflection of Cadence.
“Ah, so you are awake,” Twilight said coming around the corner. “You should probably have a nurse remove that curtain thing. I don’t know what I’ll see if I come around this corner.”
Be collected.
“Hello, Twilight,” Cadence said, her voice sounding annoyed. “I don’t think now is the time. I was just about to go to sleep with Shining.”
The sound of steps stopped just beside the bed, and then Twilight glanced up at Cadence, saw how tired and exhausted she was, as well a bruised hoof (probably from shattering the mirror later on in the night) then looked at Shining, still motionless as sleep could allow him to be. “Oh…I see. That’s alright. But…do you think we could talk? I’ve been doing some thinking lately and…”
Cadence cocked her head, anxiously waiting for Twilight to finish.
Silence.
“Well, go on,” Cadence said flatly.
“…We should consider our options now. It’s been two years, Caddy. Don’t you think you owe him some peace?”
Cadence remained taciturn for a moment. From the corner of her eye, she saw Shining still as ever, as if he were an egg, waiting to be hatched to life. She also noticed a tear streaking down the side of Twilight’s face as she looked at her brother. A long, searching look for movement, a sign of life.
“Cadence?” Twilight sat down in a chair she had moved from nearby and glanced momentarily at her brother once more, then back to her sister-in-law. “I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for me too. And our parents,” Twilight said. “I’m sure you know that already, though.” Twilight reached a hoof out and gently turned Cadence’s chin, so they were looking at one another.
Cadence yielded to Twilight’s pull.
“Please, say something.”
I’m broken, Twilight. So broken. And empty.
Cadence sighed and looked away. “It’s my fault. I’m the one that should have protected him. Now look at him.” Her gaze fell back to Shining, “I can’t give up on him. If I do, how will he ever know how truly sorry I am?”
Direct.
“Cadence,” Twilight said, her voice thick from all the emotion and salvia governing her mouth. “He died in his sleep.”
Cadence said nothing.
“Peacefully and happily. I’m sure of it.”
The silence between them was so severe that neither of them could hear their breathing, nor Shining’s, nor the beeping machines that stuck wires and tubes (all over him) to assist his vital functions. His upper head was covered with bandages—none of which looked forgiving.
“You don’t think he’ll wake up, do you, Twilight?”
Twilight blinked as tears streaked her cheeks. Her lips were trembling—making it impossible to speak with the lump in her throat. Eventually, she prevailed. “Do you want me to be honest?”
Be direct.
“Of course.”
The tension in her throat ceased as Twilight gave a mournful yet cheerful smile in the hope of evoking some positivity and light on the situation before saying, “No, Cadence…I don’t. He’s been unconscious for two years. We’ve had so many doctors from all over Equestria come in and evaluate him. Every one of them said they can’t do anything. Even I said that, and I’m the Princess of Friendship and Magic.”
Calm. Breath in and breath out.
“Cadence…” A pause. “It’s time to let him go. You need to live your life. We all do. Shining wouldn’t want us sulking about something we, or you, can’t fix. It’s not right.”
Cadence bellowed silently within.
How…how dare she! Does she not have any consideration for me or for my marriage‽
Take that back!
“I just…” Cadence’s words came out hoarsely as she held back her conflicting emotions.
“I know. But you have to start thinking about yourself. What is best for Cadence here? You’ve been cooped up in this room for two weeks now. When was the last time you ate something?”
Cadence said nothing, yet again. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander to find answers to all those questions, the very ones that could, in essence, lay her and Shining to rest; but only if she was willing to accept the harsh reality of letting go, one of the hardest things to do in life.
A few minutes had passed before either of them spoke again.
“Shining…” Cadence’s voice cracked and she lost composure once again letting a sob escape. Her heart was fluttering, her muscles were tightening, her mind was pondering, and the harsh realization, the most fearful regard to her, clawed its way in. Refusal had a way of imprisoning her from it; but it was only temporary, and Cadence knew that (eventually) she’d have to face her demons.
“He’s here because of me. I should have protected him! The escort should have gone as planned. He got the most heat out of all of us. Everything was going according to plan, but then my magic failed me.” It felt as though a thousand condemned souls were screaming to be freed from her heart as she looked at Twilight. “I had it, Twilight! The shield spell should’ve worked…but instead he took the strike, and now look at him.”
Cadence stopped. She tried to relinquish her emotions, but they were like a broken dam: Endlessly flowing like a nigh uncontrollable force. Ever since she started speaking, her mind had run off track. She closed her mouth and endured silence, sweet, sweet silence.
“Cadence…”
“Don’t say it.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I just said—”
“I know what you said, but can you please listen to me for one moment?” Twilight said, her voice empathetic and soft. She put a hoof on Cadence’s back, hoping it would warm her spirits. “I can’t say this enough, but what happened out there…on the battlefield…wasn’t your fault. It’s mine. Besides, I created that shield spell two days before the attack. If anypony is to blame, it’s me.”
Denial.
“No. No it’s not.” Cadence blinked tear filled eyes as she looked at her stallion. “It’s mine. It’s always been mine.”
Subjective.
“Yes it is. I’m the one who wrote the spell,” Twilight said. “There were errors in the spell that I should’ve told you, but it was too late. I thought I could remedy the situation by improving a staple spell, but I failed. I’m the one who failed Shining. Not you. Me.” Twilight choked back a cry but failed.
Objective.
Cadence turned and leaned into Twilight, nuzzling her. “I’m his wife.”
“And I’m his sister. I shouldn’t have been so reckless and stupid.”
Twilight sighed and wept.
Change in mood.
Cadence lay silently.
“I’m not going to presume to tell you what to do anymore, Cadence. I just want you to know that you’re not the only one suffering through this. You aren’t alone. Just, think about him. What do you think is going on in his unconscious mind?” Twilight sniffled and wiped her eyes. “You need to do something constructive. Whatever it is you decide, I’ll support you. You have my word.”
Reassurance.
“Why the sudden change of mind?” Cadence asked quietly as she rested her head on the pillow again.
“Because,” Twilight said, getting up from her seat. “I can’t see a life wherein you’d pull the plug on him.” She walked away from the couple and the scene for the doorway. “After all, I did say this is about what Cadence wants, right? I’ll be eating at the restaurant across the street from here. You’re more than welcome to join me.”
Twilight left Cadence alone with Shining.
Can’t leave.
Her vision crossed the mirror she had shattered earlier in the night.
Go out. Maybe being out of this place will clear your head so you can decide what to do.
Honesty.
Direction.
Cadence rushed through the door leading to the hallway of the trauma centre and tracked Twilight. “Wait for me! I’m coming with you.”
Twilight stopped, looked back, and smiled.
⁂
Cadence pushed her dinner away, most of it being untouched.
The restaurant setting was an amiable change to a hospital room. Dim lighting ran all throughout the place, creating a subtle ambience that, somehow, put Cadence at ease. The tables and chairs were a dark teal colour, and the soothing, harmonious melody of a piano sounded passively in the background.
“I’m sorry for not eating anything, Twilight,” Cadence said, sounding as if she were a filly. She excused herself and withdrew from the dining table, situating herself on a sofa by a nearby wall.
Twilight joined her shortly after.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m just glad you got yourself out of that room,” Twilight said, sipping a cup of tea she’d brought from the table. She propped herself beside her sister-in-law. “Have you thought about anything I said earlier?”
Silence.
“Too soon?”
“No, no,” Cadence said shaking her head slightly.
“Then what is it?”
Cadence took a moment to think, then shook her head again.
“Nothing? C’mon, please? You had to have though of something. He means a lot to you, and that means a lot to me, so…” Twilight gave Cadence a hopeful look. “I’m, sorry. That was really crude of me to say.”
Forgiveness.
When Cadence leaned into Twilight’s shoulder, she was welcomed her with open forelimbs. Eventually the tears started flowing and Cadence cried openly, not caring who saw. “I-I don’t know what to do, Twilight. I don’t know what to tell you, what you want to hear.” Her voice was deep and thick from all the rawness.
Twilight caressed Cadence’s mane, while pulling her closer for comfort.
“Well…” Twilight trailed off, thinking. “Don’t think about how it will affect you, but how it’ll change you. Do you think letting him go would change your outlook on life? Will it change you as a princess, a sister, a ruler?”
Cadence trembled in Twilight’s embrace, then her eyes widened. “I-I never thought of it like that.” She began trembling, but stopped as Twilight nuzzled her.
“Cadence, just tell me how you feel about this, what you think you should do.”
Cadence nodded slowly. She glanced to Twilight and her eyes conveyed the smile that her mouth couldn’t.
“Sometimes I forget what the meaning of life is and how long we should hold onto it before we let it go,” Cadence said sagely. “Life is hard, inconsistent. There are times in our lives when everything seems to go wrong when, despite our best efforts and for no apparent rhyme or reason, tragedy strikes. And there are other times when everything goes just perfectly.”
Meaningful.
“I wonder what Shining would do if I were in a coma.” Cadence glanced up. “What do you think he’d do?”
“Well…I think he’d be the brave stallion he is and look at this for what it is, not what it was. He’d find a way to make things right again, and if there’s nothing he can do, he’d let go, even though it’s something he doesn’t want to do. He’d do it because he loves you, Cadence, so you can both be free.
“And who knows…maybe he’ll be expecting you in the next life. But as of right now…I can’t say that is the case since the roles aren’t reversed. Immortality is a nuisance, isn’t it?”
A pause.
“Yeah.”
Twilight continued to embrace her sister as they quietly lamented.
⁂
Today was the day.
Cadence sat on a cushioned pillow in Celestia’s office in Canterlot.
It had been a week since Cadence and Twilight had their graceful talk, one on one; as exhausting as it was to both of them, they prevailed, especially Cadence. She fought every thought, every emotion, and every battle that was raging in her head and heart that was yelling ‘No! Don’t do it!’. It was one of the hardest things she had done in her life, and nothing could displace its severity.
She stepped up to an oak desk that had a picture of her and Twilight. It was odd to see Celestia kept a picture of them.
Eventually a grey unicorn with brown mane ambled through the doors. She pulled Cadence from her reverie. “Princess Cadence…”
“Hello,” she greeted her demurely.
“It’s an honour to meet you, finally. Now I can say I have met all the Equestria princesses,” the grey mare said. “Is commander Dyemond in?”
“I’m afraid not. He sends his regards, though. Currently he’s occupied with urgent matters from the lack of training recruits due to…” Cadence trailed off.
“Yes, I know. Shining Armors condition. After his accident two years ago the Royal Guard had it rough. He was the best damn trainer around. Please forgive me, Princess Cadence if I’m speaking out of line. I heard the recent news of your decision.”
“Yes…I’m sure most have. What’s your name?”
“Ain. General Ain. I’ll lead you to your husband’s quarters. Right this way, please.”
They traversed six flight of stairs in the castle and headed through the long bricked walkways that connected one castle tower to the other. Eventually they arrived at the captain’s quarters. Ain opened the door and (upon entering) used her magic to tie back the curtains.
The room had been sealed off, by Cadence's request, when Shining had been placed in the hospital.
Dust swam in the air aimlessly through the shafts of evening sunlight before vanishing into the shadowy areas of the room. Cadence noticed a neat pile of what looked like armour, badges, and a sheathed sword, along with a few closed journals.
“You requested to have these items collected for you, yes?”
“That is correct, Ain,” Cadence said, walking over to the pile of sentiments. She placed a hoof on the fleecy uniform that Shining wore to his promotions. They still carried his scent. It made Cadence crazy, wanting to breakdown and cry so loudly the whole realm would know of her pain.
“I should leave you be, Princess Cadence. I am sure you know your way around this castle inside and out…if there’s anything more I can do to help.”
“Thank you, Ain. Really. I appreciate it.”
Ain nodded, and Cadence watched her leave.
Alone, she picked up Shining’s journals, laid on his bed, and read them.
⁂
Three hours later, Cadence was still reading her husband’s journal. It was full of moments he wished to share with her on his deathbed; many of them had made her cry, but that was to be expected; because, she knew any recollection or residence of him would be enough to spark the sorrow trapped within.
A cup of tea appeared beside Cadence, and she didn’t realise who was standing in the doorway: Twilight. She set aside the log and accepted the tea.
“Thanks,” Cadence said. “How’d you find me?”
“Ain told me. How are you doing?”
Cadence sniffled and smiled weakly. “I’m doing alright. I’ve gotten all of Shining’s things. Well, the things he treasured most from his military career. Aside from me, of course.”
Twilight managed to muster a laugh while meeting her sister-in-law for a welcome nuzzle. “He loved you so, so much, Cadence. You know it’s safe to say he died a hero.”
“I guess you’re right.”
Profound, harmonious silence.
“It’s funny what we learn about others,” Cadence said, sipping her tea. As she looked over her shoulder, eyeing the large watercolour portrait of Shining and herself, she couldn’t help but smile. When she drank enough of its pulchritude, she continued. “Especially over the years. The time we spend with them. What we learn about them. Their likes, dislikes. Their way of thinking, their philosophical views. What life means to them. What they wish could be changed in this world, for better or worse.”
Placing her tea aside, Cadence opened the journal. “This was his. A log of all the best memories he and I shared. He wanted to read them to me on his deathbed when he grew old with me. Looks like that’s not happening now.”
A smooth yet faded picture showed Shining and Cadence when they were much younger, the time when their relationship had begun to blossom and take shape.
“You should keep these,” Twilight said, “it’ll help to keep his memories alive.”
“Yeah,” Cadence replied. “All of this isn’t just him, you know. It’s both of us.”
There it was again. That silence. So fervent, so welcomed by the two. It hardened around them like obsidian; not a word passed between them; not because they had nothing to say, but because they didn’t have to say anything; that’s how it is between two ponies who are so close, so loving toward one another, ponies who know what true loss entails; because in the end, nothing can separate the fusion of grief between sisters as the bond is unbreakable and inexplicable.
These days were silent indeed; because only so many words could be conveyed before they fall into its lullaby.
Noise.
“Are you ready for the ceremony in a couple days?” Twilight asked. “I have written you something to say there. Unless you want to write it yourself.”
A gleeful yet odd expression crossed Cadence’s face. “I’d like that.”
Twilight cradled herself into Cadence and sobbed.
So innocent.
“Twilight?”
“Yeah?” Twilight said between wretched sobs.
“I’m sorry for taking two years with this. I should have known better than to count on the future. All you can ever believe is now, this moment, because in a blink, everything can change.”
Accurate. Loving.
“Forgive me, Twi.”
Later that night, the moon was out in the star-painted sky. A clear night. No rain, no clouds. Just nightly serenity.
Cadence was standing out on Shining’s balcony. She thought about staying the night here. Might as well. Twilight had gone back to her own chamber, the one she occupied as a filly while being mentored by Celestia.
She remembered the time Shining had brought her here to spend the weekend together. An odd place for a getaway, indeed, but it worked nonetheless. Cadenced arrived here in the morning, read all day, and waited patiently for her Shining Armor to come home. And he did.
Glancing at the door, hoping it would move, her heart grew impossibly tremulous. The only thing that greeted her was silence and repudiation.
No. He won’t be coming through that door now.
She stepped into the room, and the candles flickered on as she tried to reconcile with the memory that was once real. No matter how hard Cadence tried to validate the reasoning, he wouldn’t, in fact, be coming through those doors.
Denial.
Cadence shook her head and suppressed the thoughts. There was no need for them, but she knew they’d be back.
Alongside the wall opposite the bed were an assortment of old pictures. There was a portrait of Shining along with an old friend; Fletcher was the name. He and Shining stood dressed in formal apparel, posed with the previous captain of the Royal Guard, as they smiled with their awards levitating beside them. In another, the two sat in a banquet hall as they ate dinner together.
There was one photograph (in particular) that stuck out more than a palm tree amidst evergreens: Her wedding picture. She picked up with with her magic, brought it under the faint candlelight. His smile was almost too perfect for this world, to her at least. How could something so precious, so beautiful exist in this fragile universe?
A surge of memories crashed her head: The vows, the reception, the first night they spent together married. All of them made her feel heavy and paralysed.
Cadence clenched her eyes shut as the first sob came, each subsequently more violent and explosive; it was silent and wracking. She leaned against the wall and slid into a desolate heap; her breathing was ragged—almost suffocating.
She strayed away from the display of photographs and sentiments, then collapsed on the bed, sleep clawing at her mind. She slipped under the covers, feeling their fleecy warmth. It smelled like Shining, but it would surely help her sleep, right?.
Tossing over to her left, she saw yet another portrait of him, this time smiling.
“I miss you, Shining.”
She closed her eyes, but her mind showed her memory after faded memory, showing her depictions of things that could now never be. Soon Cadence slumbered into a dreamless, unbroken sleep for the first time in years.
Silence.
