Countless light-centuries distant from the Alliance, the Council, Thebe and Starlight, Twilight Sparkle stood in the cold stone halls of her empty Temple. The only light was the red-gray glow of the overcast sky filtering through the large windows that merged seamlessly with the cool stone masonry.

Outside was the Temple grounds, a courtyard perched high above the city of Canterlot below. Outside, the Tartaran was running through the grassy fields and gardens playing with her skags and dogs and varrent. She appeared to be having fun chasing and being chanced. On the far side of the field, several Priestesses rode by on non-talking horses, the ancestors of which had been a gift from the Alliance long ago. Their white robes trailed behind them in the breeze, and under the cloudy sky they looked almost like ghosts.

As she watched, silent and alone, she was absentmindedly spinning a knife on the floor, balancing it on its tip with her magic and causing it to revolve. The knife itself did not have any real purpose, apart from being incorporated into her ceremonial clothing as a kind of symbol. It, likewise, had been a gift, this time from a durian diplomat. Being made by turians, though, it was quite sharp, even after centuries of being in her possession.

“I know something else you could do with that knife,” said one of the faceless alicorns.

“Go ahead,” said the other. “It would be so much easier.”

“They woudn’t miss you. No one would miss you.”

“You don’t deserve to be alive. Not after what you did.”

“Not after what you ARE.”

“You aren’t even alive anyway. Not really.”

“You never were. Do it. Make Starlight’s life so much easier.”

“Because she almost knows. She’s so close. Soon, she will want you dead. Just like we do.”

“Princess?”

Twilight lifted her head at the sound of a voice that was not her own and with one swift motion slid the knife back into its ornate scabbard. She turned to see a tall, blue-colored reptilian approaching her from the far side of the hallway.

“Dragonlord,” she said. “I was under the impression that you had left. Although of course you are permitted to remain as long as you like.”

“I wanted to gain a better understanding of pony culture,” she said, stopping at the window and watching the hounds and non-talking horses gallop in the distance as the Priestesses laughed. Ember raised an eyebrow, clearly confused by the presence of horses. “What are those?” she asked.

“An example of parallel evolution,” said Twilight. “I keep a stable of them. Partly for study, but also because they were so beloved by my dear friend Trixie. Although, of course, the horses she loved so dearly are gone now. As is she. As is almost everyone.”

“I guess that’s a problem I never thought about,” said Ember. She paused, considering. “Yeah…with dragons, we are all functionally immortal. But you are the only one of your kind.”

“No,” said Twilight, shaking her head. “Just one of very few.” She looked up at the dragon beside her and smiled, being careful to keep her pointed teeth hidden, just as she forced herself to use an Equestrian accent. “But I don’t mean to be depressing. This is supposed to be a happy time! Look how joyous my Tartaran friend is. Her, and you, we are all allies now. All friends. And Harmony propagates.”

“That is one thing I came to speak to you about.” Ember seemed concerned. “Apparently, Blueblood went to the press. Your story is all over Canterlot.”

Twilight smiled. “Well, of course. I anticipated this.”

“And you wanted people to know, then?”

“Oh no. The people will not know. The idea that me, a beloved Princess, dines on the flesh of ponies? It is preposterous. And they will recognize it as such. Blueblood does not seem to realize that my reputation is far more difficult to destroy than his is. He has essentially ruined himself.”

Ember blinked. “You intended that from the start. You’re trying to make him look incompetent, to seize his estate.”

“He is incompetent. And his family has been…challenging. For some time. Did you know that his father seriously lobbied to resume production of Cores? I don’t even think the fool realized how insulting that is to me. Needless to say, he was dealt with. With great discretion but also great efficiency.”

“Then that story, about the old parliament…it wasn’t even true, was it?”

Twilight shook her head. “That, I leave up to you to decide. But there was indeed a strong chance that I was blatantly lying to you.”

“Hmm,” said Ember. “I can see why your kingdom is so successful.” She looked down at Starlight. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you ate a pony. That I saw with my own eyes.”

“I ate a criminal,” said Twilight. “There was no loss.”

“I may not know much about pony culture,” said Ember, “but I’m pretty sure that you have a taboo against cannibalism.”

“As a Princess, most taboos don’t apply to me, unfortunately.”

“Unfortunatly?”

Twilight nodded. “I’ve done things. Many horrible things. If you even simply knew, you would most likely sleep as poorly as I do.”

“Then I don’t want to know. I never did.” Ember paused. “That said, you did what you had to. It is a burden of being a ruler.”

“That is what I tell myself.” Her eyes slowly tilted upward toward Ember. “But with that said, I do hope that as my new friend, you will take care to make sure that none of this reaches Starlight Glimmer.”

“The High Priestess? Or what?”

“I’d rather not threaten a dragon. I know it can be seen as…insulting. However, I would really rather not add genocide to the list of things I wish I had the luxury of regretting.”

“I’m not going to throw away our hard-won acceptance for something so petty. But, yes. Your secret is safe with me.” She gripped her staff tightly. “And my word is law for all dragons. Including myself.”

“Thank you.”

Ember nodded. She paused for a moment, but then spoke in a slightly less harsh tone. “You really care about your High Priestess, don’t you?”

“I greatly admire her, yes,” replied Twilight.

“No. That’s not it. There’s more to it than just admiration.”

“Is there?” asked Twilight. “To me, that’s the simplest way to say it.” She sighed. “When I took the throne of Equestria, at first, I was heavily invested in the mechanical aspects of ruling. Consolidating power, removing dissent, spreading my influence and negotiating alliances.” She looked up at Ember. “It was in my nature. It still is. I was created to rule. It is my only purpose, what I was constructed for.” She turned to the window. “But I had no emotional investment in Equestria itself. I didn’t care about the people or the society, just leveraging my power and taking control.”

“Following in the tradition of Celestia and Luna, no doubt.”

Twilight nodded. “But Starlight…Starlight was different. I took her with me, and she stood at my side with such conviction, such passion. In truth? I never really cared much about the Cores, or the breeders. Not at first. But Starlight did. She never wavered from bringing her vision to fruition, of the goal of equality for all. I had never seen passion like that, or a pony able to wield it toward her goals like that. You can say it left an impression on me.”

“What kind of impression?”

“You’ve no doubt seen it. I realized that my method was wrong, that what I was doing was wrong. Through her eyes, I learned to love Equestria, to understand the SIGNIFICANCE of my role. That I could make the world a better place, like she had. That I could have a purpose greater than the one I was born with.”

“Then she is your inspiration.”

“My inspiration, and my friend. One of my only friends these days.” For when she was not strong enough. Starlight had not just inspired her, but had been there in her times of weakness, to help drive away the trauma that was deeply ingrained in her mind. These things, of course, she could not tell Ember. “Those horrible things?” she said. “I try my best not to do them anymore. Because I know what Starlight would think of them.” She lowered her head. “Which is why it saddens me so much to see her in her current state.”

“Current state? I have not met her. I do not understand.” Ember paused. “Unless you mean that she’s lost her passion.”

Twilight nodded. “She’s been here with me for so long…but she accomplished her goals…Ember,” said Twilight, looking up at the dragon, “is it selfish of me? To keep her with me, even after everything she needed to do in this life is concluded?”

“That’s arrogant,” said Ember, harshly.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s arrogant. To think that you know when she’s done. To think that she even CAN be done. Her life is hers. If she finished one goal, then it’s time to move onto the next. No one is ever ‘done’ with life. I’m surprised you could even say that about a friend you love.”

“Yes…” said Twilight. “I see…”

There was an electrical arcing sound, and Ember looked down to see Twilight gone. Confused and somewhat spooked, she looked around to see Twilight now standing farther down the hall, approaching a pair of Priestesses. One of them was blind and badly scarred, but the other quite beautiful.

“My Princess,” said the scarred one. “It is time to go.”

“I now, Shining Blossom,” said Twilight. She looked over her shoulder. “If you will excuse me, Dragonlord. I have an appointment to speak at graduation, and I need to prepare.”

“Graduation? I was not aware that the Princess of Equestria bothered with such things.”

“I do when I have time. But this case is special. This is the graduation for the New Moonrise Alternative School. I founded it myself with the intention of giving an education to convicts eligible for impending release. All education is dear to me, but this school especially so.”

“Really?” said Ember, somewhat incredulous. “I thought you detested criminals.”

Twilight shook her head. “No. Not at all. I like to believe that a pony is able to change, if she is offered a second chance.”

Author's Note

It is my belief that dramatic irony is the opposite of mystery. In mystery, someone in the story knows something that the audience does not; in dramatic irony, the audience knows something the characters do not. This is meant to be a case of the latter.