Chapters Applejack watched her older brother smash his hooves into the tree so hard she was afraid it might come crashing down. Apples rained down into the buckets on the ground, and Big Mac turned to collect them without so much as a backward glance in Applejack’s direction.
“Do you think…” Applejack said, her voice coming slowly even for her usual drawl. “Don’t you think you should talk about it?”
“Nope.” Big Mac hoisted one of the baskets onto his back with the skill of a pony who had spent his whole life harvesting and started trudging his way towards the barn.
Applejack paused to pick up one of the other full baskets, tossing it onto her back and balancing it with the same practiced ease. Even when she was on such an important errand, there was no way she could just leave work sitting there, undone.
“I really think you should talk about it,” Applejack continued, catching up with her brother as he reached the wagon. He hadn’t made it easy—Big Mac had been practically galloping to get away from her.
“Not much to say,” her brother said, his voice flat. He shrugged off the basket, which thumped into place in the wagon, before moving towards the harness. “Twilight’s working on a cure, there ain’t nothin’ a pony like me could do to make that go any better. Either the smart ponies will figure it out… or they won’t. It’s out of my hooves. Wasn’t never in them to start with…”
Applejack tossed her own basket into the back of the wagon, and no sooner had she done so than the wagon started rolling forward under Big Mac’s fantastic strength.
Fully loaded, the apple wagon weighed well over a ton. Big Mac seemed like he hadn’t even noticed the weight, and Applejack had to trot to keep up with him. She let the silence rest between them for several minutes. The wooden wheels bumped and rocked along the trail, rattling and shaking as it went.
Eventually, she figured Big Mac would have had enough time to recover from what (for him) represented hours of speech, and she responded. “It ain’t right what happened. What Dirge did… cursing you instead’a me. Hurting the ponies the girls and I are close to instead of going right for us. It’s just flat wrong.”
“Yup.” He pulled the wagon up past the barn, over to the ramp leading into the fruit cellar. Big Mac backed the end of the cart right up to the opening, where they would have the shortest possible distance to walk as they took full baskets into storage.
Applejack frowned at him. “I ain’t never met a unicorn better at what she does than Twilight Sparkle. She’ll find a way to lift the curse, before… before…”
“Before I die,” he finished, unhitching from the wagon and walking around back.
“Yeah,” Applejack followed close behind, and set about the chore of unloading. It was immensely satisfying to have something simple to do, something to make her sweat and also know she was helping to keep the family running. Like Big Mac, Applejack said little as she concentrated on the work. Saying anything would have only made her brother more annoyed.
So she worked, carrying baskets of full apples underground where they could be out of the heat and sun and last until winter. Her older brother’s last winter. Last time making cider…
“Do you think—” Applejack glanced around the entrance to the root cellar, checking for listening ears. Granny Smith wouldn’t be out wandering in the heat of the day, but there was no telling where Apple Bloom might’ve gotten to. Applejack saw no sign of her. “Have you decided when you’re gonna tell everypony?”
“Nope,” he pushed the cart out of the way, into its usual place on the side of the barn. “I ain’t gonna tell anypony. Not now, maybe not ever. They’ll find out when…” He stopped, eyes beginning to water. “When it happens. I just don’t see the sense in getting Apple Bloom and Granny Smith worked up about something none of us can change. Either your friends can find a cure, or…” His eyes narrowed. “What did you say the bad pony’s name was?”
“Dirge,” Applejack supplied, her mouth hanging open. Maybe following her brother around all day had been the right idea after all. If he was opening up.
“Dirge. Princess Celestia already took care of him, I’m sure. Nothing left for me to do.”
“She didn’t have to,” Applejack spoke slowly. “He’s dead. Casting the spell… guess it killed him. There’s all sortsa fancy reasons for it I’m sure.”
“There ‘ya go,” Big Mac proclaimed, turning away from her. “There ain’t nothing left for me to do. Can’t fix it, can’t get back at the pony who did it, can’t do nothing. I know how you are about telling the truth… but this is my truth to tell, sis. You won’t be tellin’ for me.” Big Mac bore down on her, his ears alert and anger seeming to issue from his nostrils in hissing blasts of steam. “You’re gonna promise me. Not one apple-bucking word about it.”
Applejack retreated. It wasn’t that she was intimidated by her brother, not exactly. It was, rather, that she was shocked to hear such an implied threat from a stallion who was otherwise gentle and kind to a fault.
She hesitated, scratching at the dirt with a hoof. Then she nodded. “I won’t say anythin’,” she eventually said. “But I can’t promise word won’t get around some other way that’s got nothin’ to do with me. You’re not the only pony affected, and I’m not the only pony who knows. How much more would it hurt Granny or Apple Bloom if they hear from somepony else instead of you?”
Her brother grunted, turning back to the field with a flick of his tail. “That’s on me.” He stalked away, sending up a little cloud of dust and dirt with every step.
Applejack knew the meaning of that gesture. He wanted to be alone.
She could still see him there, tied with rope thick enough to raise a barn, staked to the ground with five others. The ponies Dirge had thought were closest to Applejack and her friends. Six victims to a terrible curse.
Why didn’t he fight like a mare? If he had a problem with me, take it out on me! Going for a pony’s family… that just ain’t right.
It hadn’t been right, but it was done. By the time Applejack had arrived with her friends, it had been too late. The spell was cast, the consequences suffered by ponies who did not deserve them.
Applejack banished the painful memory, setting off at a trot. She passed the house, waving to Granny Smith through the open windows. Her grandmother didn’t notice the gesture—she was far too engrossed in her cooking to see anything else.
How will she react to losing her grandson? How will we keep the farm running without Big Mac? Each question had the same terrible answer: Applejack didn’t have a clue. Apple Bloom was far too young to pull the same share of the load that Big Mac managed. They couldn’t expect any more of her while she still had school to deal with.
And Granny… she might not survive the shock. She had already buried enough of her children to weigh her shoulders down when she walked.
Twilight will fix this. She fixes everything.
Applejack could always recognize a lie, even when she was telling one to herself. If it was so easy to fix, why did Celestia look so sad?
Applejack went walking past the house, past the barn, down the fence that lined Sweet Apple Acres. She watched her brother move through the herbs, weeding with the vigor of a pony who was running out of time. She pretended not to see, continuing down the road towards Ponyville.
Applejack passed over the bridge, the exact spot Big Mac had finally caught up to her all those years ago. She’d been running then, running from what she’d just learned.
She could almost see her younger self standing on the bridge, tears streaming freely down her face. “They can’t be gone!” the filly screamed up at Big Mac, who wasn’t so big back then. “They wouldn’t just leave!”
“They didn’t get a choice, sis.” Big Mac hadn’t been nearly so tight-lipped back then. “Nopony up and chooses when and how they wanna go. They weren’t careless either—that route was the safest there is. We haven’t lost a shipment through those mountains since…” He shook his head. “Well, that was the first one.”
Her younger self slumped against the railing, trailing her forelegs over the side. She had thought, very briefly, about throwing herself down into the stream. It wouldn’t have been a dangerous fall, of course, but young ponies could be dramatic. “You really…” Her words were barely discernable through her sobbing. “You really think they’re gone? There isn’t some chance… they made it through the rockslide, somehow? Maybe… some friendly miners saved ‘em, or… their train-car didn’t get as crushed as the ones holding apples?”
She had looked up at her brother’s face like the last ray of sunshine. He’d taken that sunshine away. “No chance, Applejack. They uh… found ‘em. They’re gonna be buried…” He sniffed, clearing his throat. “Tomorrow. Service is tomorrow. Closed casket. It’s, uh… not pretty.”
That had been it. Young Applejack had completely melted at that news. Big Mac had held her when she cried, for over an hour. Applejack hadn’t thought at the time what ponies passing on that bridge might’ve thought. Maybe they’d heard the news, and they gave the Apple family children their space. Maybe there hadn’t been much traffic on the bridge.
What would I have done without you, Big Mac? She looked down at the clear water off the bridge, exactly where she’d stood. Big Mac had been there for Granny at the funeral. Been there for her. Even been there for Apple Bloom, though the filly had been too young to know why everypony was crying.
Ain’t nobody gonna hold me like that at your funeral. Were it not for her friends, Applejack might’ve worried about the farm as she’d worried then. But life was different now—
Twilight Sparkle had already promised that, should the worst happen, her family wouldn’t be left high and dry. Applejack hadn’t asked, but she knew the others would help. Rarity had so much money coming in from her fashion business that the mortgage on a farm would probably vanish into the margins on one of her ledgers.
That was small comfort now. Applejack gritted her teeth and turned towards Twilight’s castle. The crystal eyesore was visible at all hours, though during the day it reflected the sunlight into an unnatural array of blues and purples.
I would’ve thought beating Nightmare Moon was impossible once, she thought. I never would’ve imagined we could have turned Discord into a friend. What’s one more impossible thing?
That was an angle she hadn’t considered, and it was possible Twilight hadn’t either. Applejack knew almost nothing about this spell, and she understood even less. All she knew was that it was supposed to be impossible to stop once it started. Her brother was doomed, as were all the other ponies who had been cursed. Yet, maybe someone else who was used to impossible things could help.
Applejack turned away from the castle, setting a course back across the bridge and towards Fluttershy’s cottage instead. Fluttershy’s own brother had been cursed, so there was no reason she wouldn’t be willing to ask Discord for help. Maybe he would be able to find something Twilight had missed.
Twilight Sparkle was hard at work. Ever since receiving a whole castle for herself, she hadn’t had to pack her lab away into a tiny basement that was barely large enough for all her equipment. The castle had plenty of rooms, and so she dedicated one of the biggest upper chambers (where tourist ponies visiting from far afield wouldn’t accidentally stumble into it) to her labratory.
Unlike the rest of the castle (and indeed, the rest of her life), Twilight had allowed the lab to become somewhat messy in the last few months. Ever since… well, she couldn’t think about it. Twilight had already considered the possibility of time travel to prevent the curse from being made, and dismissed it.
There was nothing left to do but confront the curse itself. The wreckage of Twilight’s study was everywhere. A whole table in one corner was weighed down with historical accounts and forbidden spellbooks, anything from Canterlot’s royal library that even mentioned the curse.
On one subject each and every one of them agreed: Doom could not be prevented. Its cost was tremendous—in paying with their own life, the caster’s evil was guaranteed. A stasis spell wouldn’t protect the victims when their time came due. A standing medical team couldn’t revive them. Even moving them to another plane wouldn’t work.
The massive door to the lab swung slowly open, and a pony came in. Twilight Sparkle didn’t even have to look up to know who it would be. The same pony who had visited each and every day since her research had begun.
“The Great and Powerful Trixie has arrived,” Trixie announced, leaving the door swinging open behind her. It wasn’t as though there would be any other ponies visiting. Everypony else knew not to interrupt her.
“Hi.” Twilight didn’t even look up, didn’t turn away from the spell she was casting.
In front of her were six shards of differently colored crystal, arranged into a starlike pattern and glowing with internal light. Her horn lit up to match, and most of her concentration was dedicated to keeping the spell in her mind until it was complete.
In the very center of the crystals was a single stuffed doll, with black button eyes and a limp mane.
“No doubt substantial progress has been made since last I visited,” Trixie said, passing the large year calendar mounted to the wall, with each of its months separated and pinned so that a pony could look at the whole thing at once.
Every day on the first month had been x-ed off, along with half of the days in this month.
Twilight didn’t answer, focusing on her spell. She sat surrounded by open spellbooks, most of which were so old their pages were barely cogent enough to hold together. A single violent twist might’ve turned them to dust.
Trixie appeared in a puff of smoke right in front of the table. The snapping sound was loud and abrupt enough that her mind briefly wandered. The pattern of the spell broken, her horn went dark. One of her crystals shattered into several tiny quartz shards, and burn marks appeared on the ground outlining the edge of the ritual.
Twilight sighed, slumping her head into her hooves. She didn’t look up at Trixie. “I’ve explained this to you before, Trixie. Every minute I spend talking to you is time I’m not spending working on a cure.”
The unicorn made a dismissive sound. “Trixie is more than confident in your abilities, Twilight Sparkle. A few minutes to give me a report on your discoveries will not significantly delay your progress. Trixie is quite confident in this.”
“I wouldn’t be,” Twilight muttered, her voice very low. “You remember what Celestia said, don’t you? I’m trying to do the impossible. Every book I’ve read agrees with her. Maybe if I had years to experiment… but we can’t even do that, given the cost of the spell and the risk to whoever we used for testing.”
She looked up just in time to see Trixie turn away from her, with a flash of bright blue tail. “How many other impossible things have you already done, Twilight? Don’t think Trixie wasn’t reminded of that every day after our first meeting. You brought Princess Luna back to Equestria after her banishment. You reformed Discord, you stopped Tirek. Twilight Sparkle can do impossible things.”
She paced away, towards the large blackboard on the far wall. Twilight had covered it in spell-scribblings. Most of them had been crossed out, ideas that she had tested and that had failed. Trixie didn’t seem to notice. “The Great and Powerful Trixie should not have been part of that spell… but she was never in any danger. Not with a pony like you to fix it. If Dirge had wanted us dead, he should have done it then.”
“He did.” Twilight’s voice was a quiet squeak. Yet she’d tried being tactful. For over a month Trixie had been visiting, and each and every time she took valuable time away from developing the cure.
Twilight pointed at the diagram in front of her. “Look at this, Trixie. This is… a shallow copy of the spell you saw. It should be familiar to you.”
Trixie returned, prancing more than walking. Yet for all the show her appearance presented, there were subtle signs of her distress just under the surface. Her mane was no longer styled, and whatever scent she generally wore was replaced with the natural smell of somepony who hadn’t seen a shower in too long.
“You know Trixie isn’t a mystical researcher like you, Twilight. Magic like this has never worked for me.”
“I know.” Twilight pointed anyway. “Look, this loop here… this is what makes the Doom impossible to reverse. You’ll see it isn’t a charm, it isn’t an enchantment… it isn’t doing anything to you.”
“Well, yes,” Trixie admitted. Her eyes scanned over the diagram, apparently uncomprehending. “I don’t feel any different. I always imagined that was more because the spell itself failed. You’re struggling for a cure, and Trixie appreciates that effort, but when the rest of the year goes by we’ll find it wasn’t necessary.”
“No.” Twilight couldn’t keep the frustration from her voice. “It isn’t an enchantment because it’s a time spell, Trixie. It…” She struggled for words to explain such a complex concept. Despite her public persona, Trixie had never learned much about real magic. “You don’t feel different because the spell targets who you’ll be in the future. This is temporal sympathy. When it comes due, it’ll… it’ll have already happened. It will be future retroactive. Or… in some respect, it’s like you’re already dead, you just don’t know it. Dirge killed the pony you’ll be . We can’t stop him, because he already did, even if we can’t see it from here.”
She slumped back into the cushions. “I’m sorry. It isn’t right you were included. It isn’t right anypony was included. Dirge should’ve just gone after us. We would’ve beat him, taught him why what he was doing was wrong, and it’d be over.” She lowered her voice to a bare whisper. “This is hopeless.”
Trixie seemed not to hear her. She turned away with a dismissive flourish from her cape. Her usual outfit had collected dirt around the bottom, but the showmare hadn’t noticed. “Does Twilight Sparkle need the help of the Great and Powerful Trixie? Are you admitting that you need Trixie’s contributions to solve this conundrum?”
Twilight probably shouldn’t have been awake. She’d been doing this nearly every few days, staying up for night after night to test increasingly desperate gambits. None had brought any more success than the last.
“You’re gonna die!” Twilight shouted, so loudly that her voice echoed through the library.
Trixie just blinked, staring at Twilight. Her mouth didn’t even move.
Twilight’s ears flattened to her head. But she’d already come this far. Might as well finish what she was thinking. “Trixie, Celestia told me the spell couldn’t be undone. It’s been used against ponies close to her before, and she hasn’t been able to stop it. Princess Celestia wasn’t able to stop it. You hear what I’m saying?”
Trixie twitched once, as though a troublesome insect had landed on her shoulder. Then she twisted away, through the lab. “Princess C-Celestia is… is mistaken,” she stammered. “This isn’t like that. The Great and Powerful Trixie is not going to die because some fool pony decided to get back at her rival and thought she was a friend. No show should end that way.”
“It shouldn’t,” Twilight agreed. “And I’m going to do everything in my power to try and stop it.” She wanted to reach out to the pony across the room, to reach over and apologize. But unlike many of the ponies Twilight had interacted with, Trixie had never grown that close to her. She was a pony who would likely always rub her the wrong way, no matter what she did.
She couldn’t help but feel guilty. “I’m going to stay in this lab every day until I find a cure,” Twilight said again, more calmly this time. “I’m not going to give up, even if Celestia has. If there is a way to help you, I’ll find it. But you might want to start thinking about what you’ll do if there isn’t one. Maybe… go back home. Live with your family and the other ponies you love. Enjoy your time with them while you still have it. Most importantly, stop distracting me. If I’m talking to you, I’m not helping you.”
Trixie didn’t say anything for several long moments. Eventually she shook her head. When she opened her mouth to speak again, it was far more like herself. Any trace of the pain she’d briefly displayed was gone. “The Great and Powerful Trixie realizes that you have to keep working on a cure even if it isn’t really necessary. She looks forward to seeing the look on your face when the year runs out and she is still perfectly healthy.”
Twilight sighed, taking a brush from the tools on another nearby table and cleaning away the broken crystal. She took a fresh pink quartz from her drawer and placed it onto the diagram in the specified area. She didn’t actually resume the ritual though, not with Trixie still there. It wouldn’t do her any good just to waste more supplies.
Celestia had given her a small fortune to research a cure, but those bits weren’t unlimited. She would have to be smart if she was going to live on them during the rest of the year and buy reagents.
“Trixie has decided to help in the way she knows. Trixie is going to go back on tour. A pair of colts in town have been asking if I would take them on for a season… Trixie thinks she will.” Trixie made her way towards the door, her hoofsteps coming much more quickly now.
“You will keep Trixie abreast of your research, Twilight Sparkle?”
Twilight nodded. “Of course, Trixie. If I discover anything promising, you’ll be the first pony to know.”
“Good, good.” Trixie opened the heavy door, which sung slightly as the crystal of the castle rubbed together. “Trixie has faith in your abilities. Not that she expects to need it. Trixie knows how ponies can overreact, even powerful famous ponies. She is sure it will not be as bad as you say.”
“Of course she is,” Twilight muttered, not loud enough for her to hear. “Good luck, Trixie,” she said, looking up just in time to see Trixie making her way out. Despite what she had said, the unicorn’s shoulders sagged, her ears were flat, tail tucked between her legs.
Twilight caught one last look at a pair of wide, forlorn eyes, before the massive crystal doors snapped closed.
I’m sorry you had to be a part of this, Twilight thought, after she was gone. Of all the ponies to be caught up and harmed as a result of Twilight’s actions, Trixie had been next to last on the list. Why had Dirge wanted to use a pony Twilight had hated at one point in her life to get back at her for thwarting him? Why use a pony Twilight barely knew?
Twilight Sparkle banished the thought and went back to work on her spell. She would keep working with every waking hour, as she had done over the last month.
A few hours later, Spike brought a plate of sandwiches in for lunch and a brief conversation. When she didn’t respond, he left the plate on the table beside her, quietly slinking out. Twilight didn’t touch them.
She had more important things to do than eat.
Rainbow Dash might not be able to read griffons as well as ponies, but even she could tell this wasn't going well for her. What was worse, griffons seemed to have their own version of the pony herding instinct. As her conversation with Gilda became more heated, Dash could feel more and more pairs of eyes glaring down at her. Griffons perched on buildings, walls, and fences, each one of them staring at her with harsh predatory eyes. Even knowing she was somewhere in Equestria, some deep buried place in her mind wondered if she wasn't about to get attacked. If not by Gilda, than by the dozens of griffons watching them from all around.
"So... that's it, huh?" Gilda said, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Rainbow Dash. "There's nothing you can do. Nothing any of those 'magical princesses' can do." She turned away, snapping the canvas cover down over her baked goods stand. Her wings flexed and flared out around her.
"Well, uh... Twilight said not to be optimistic. She's doing everything she can, but..." Rainbow couldn't make herself meet her friend's eyes. She couldn't look at Gilda's face without seeing the place where the feathers above her left eye had never quite grown back. Somewhere under there was the scar she'd taken, taken because she was Rainbow's friend.
"Well isn't that just bucking fantastic." Without warning the griffon took to the air, leaving only a few stray feathers as she climbed rapidly past the buildings, over the walls, and out of Griffonstone.
Rainbow could almost pretend that many years hadn't gone by, and they were playing together, as they'd done when they'd both been young. But never in all those years had the griffon running away seemed to be in such agony. Rainbow Dash had seen less pain on the faces of her friends when they thought Tirek was going to end the world. Though I guess Gilda's world is about to end.
Had she been any lesser pony, that would've been the end of the conversation. Griffons might not have weather magic, but what they did have were powerful muscles and the will of predators. Few ponies had a chance of catching up to one who really wanted to get away. But Rainbow Dash wasn't just anypony.
She galloped forward a few steps, ignoring the stares of Griffonstone's residents all around her as she took to the air, tucking her legs close to her body and squinting as she settled into a pursuit. Rainbow Dash felt none of the usual joy that waited for her in the sky, none of the freedom that came with speed. Just now, she wasn't free at all. She wouldn't be free while somepony else suffered because of her.
"Gilda, wait!" she shouted, once she'd closed enough of the distance that she could see her friend's tail streaming out behind her like a racing flag. "We should talk about this!"
But if the griffon could hear her, she made no visible sign of it. No, wait... she was speeding up! Dash's eyes widened as she realized where Gilda was headed—back into the canyon where Griffonstone's own treasure lie buried. The terrible winds that waited within would batter Rainbow to pieces if she tried to follow within the canyon walls. She had to catch Gilda before she made it.
Rainbow Dash concentrated on her mission, letting everything else in the world fade to the same indistinct blue. "You must be honest with her," Twilight had said, back in her castle of friendship. "It's better not to encourage ponies to delude themselves—if they go the whole year thinking a cure is coming when it isn't, they'll leave so much undone."
"I don't think that's really our call," Rainbow had argued. "Twi, we aren't the ones who are going to die here. They're taking the stampede for us. Shouldn't they get to face it in their own way?"
"Yes," Twilight had answered. "With all the facts."
Maybe it had been wrong to come all the way out here to deliver such bad news. Maybe she should've done what she thought was right, and not say anything. At least that way Gilda could live the whole year without stress, and then at the end... well, it would end.
Just as they neared the edge of the cliff, where open ground transformed into a perilous drop, Rainbow Dash slammed into Gilda's back hard enough to take them both cartwheeling and tumbling to the dirt. Gilda was on her feet in seconds, her sharp beak glinting in the waning afternoon sunlight. "Why are you following me?!" she shouted, spittle flying into the air in front of her. "You've done enough, Rainbow! Leave me alone!"
Rainbow Dash blinked away a tear, recoiling from the verbal blow. It was true, of course, which is what made it hurt so much. "B-but... Gilda..."
"But nothing." Gilda advanced on her, tearing up the rough dirt and rock with equal ferocity. "You really want to talk? Well let's talk!" She shoved Rainbow back with one of her claws, so forcefully that Rainbow Dash went sliding. Maybe she could've fought, or at the very least gotten out of the way, but she didn't. "I got along just fine before you ponies came and found me here. Griffons didn't need any of that 'friendship' thing you're all so crazy about. It worked. Do you know why it worked?"
Rainbow sat up, but she didn't dare rise. Less than a dozen steps behind her was the cliff, and the endless void beyond. She had barely survived the last time she ventured below.
"I'll tell you why." Gilda didn't wait any longer for her answer. "Because when you live for yourself, you're bucking safe. Nobody can screw you over when you know that's what every pair of wings is looking to do. Nobody can stab you in the back when you're watching every pair of claws like a hawk. Nobody will have you killed for having the wrong friends because nobody has any friends!" Her voice rang through the empty canyon behind them both, echoing and stretching lower and lower.
For a few moments, it seemed to Rainbow Dash as though Gilda really would shove her backward into the void. She wasn't sure if she would've tried to fight back or not, at that point. Fortunately for her, she would never find out.
Gilda dropped to her haunches less than a foot away, breathing heavily. Her wings were still partially spread, her chest puffed up in the way of griffons in distress.
Rainbow Dash remained quiet, at least until she was sure Gilda had calmed down a little. "I'm sorry, okay," she said again. "This whole thing is bucking awful. If I could take the curse myself, you know I would. It's me Dirge wanted to hurt."
The griffon's eyes narrowed, but she didn't start screaming again. "Oh, sure. It's easy to talk big, Dash. How long have we known each other? How many times have you said stuff like that before a big jump, or some new stunt?"
Maybe Rainbow was finally starting to make some progress! She wasn't going to give up, just in case. Besides... if this went badly, she had a feeling Gilda wouldn't be seeing her again before the end. Griffons had some strange funeral customs, and ponies weren't even allowed to get involved. She couldn't even say goodbye at a funeral. "And how many times did I jump after you?" Rainbow asked. Her voice cracked as she said it, but she didn't care. This might be the last time she ever talked to her old friend. Rainbow Dash wasn't going to leave with regrets. "Gilda, it's alright if you—" She sniffed, wiping away a tear. She couldn't let Gilda see though. Even now Rainbow Dash had standards. "It's alright if you hate me because of all this. I should've been fast enough to stop it. I should've seen... Equestria should've seen. It's fine if you never want to talk to me again. I'll understand."
She took a deep breath, rising to her hooves. Gilda didn't move to stop her. "Just don't try to undo what you've accomplished, okay? Griffonstone is so much better because of friendship. There are smiles on those streets now, not brawls. Maybe being my friend was a rotten idea... but it wasn't that way for the rest of the griffons. Take it out on me, not them. Okay?"
Gilda continued to glare. There were several tense moments, during which Dash couldn't take her eyes away from her friend's sharp claws. Griffons could really be intimidating up close.
The tense moment passed. Gilda sat down, and some of the anger seemed to leave her. Her chest flattened, her wings tucked in by her sides, and she looked down at the ground. She looked like a stuffed doll with only half the proper amount of stuffing—sad and pathetic. "It's not you," Gilda eventually said. She spoke very slowly, as though each word cost her dearly. "I know it isn't your fault. You came as quick as you could. I get that. But if the pony way is so great—if friendship and kindness and loyalty and the rest of those sappy droppings are really so great, how could a pony be so bad? Dirge wasn't just mean to us, he wasn't a bully. He's a murderer. Explain that one for me, Dash." So no, maybe her anger wasn't gone. It was just redirected.
"I don't know," she said. "If I understood what made ponies bad, maybe I'd be one of those egghead princess types." She rolled her eyes, gesturing at her forehead with one hoof. "But you won't see a horn on me, not ever. So I can only tell you what I've learned. And what I've learned is that ponies don't always do what you think they should. Even if they had really good lives—just take Trixie. Talented, best magic show around. But she goes and enslaves Ponyville because Twilight knew a few spells she didn’t."
"Dirge wasn't like that," Gilda whispered, her voice quiet and dangerous. She reached up, rubbing at the edge of her eyes with one claw. "The things he did... the things he said... I don't think he could've changed like Starlight did. He was a monster. If he wasn't already dead..." She ran her claws together, making an uncomfortable scraping sound. "You'd come with me, right? We could track him down... battle his evil minions, maybe have a duel during a thunderstorm! There'd be lightning, and thunder, and eventually..." She drew a line across her throat with one claw. "He'd get what he deserved, and he'd never hurt anyone again."
"I wish we could," Rainbow Dash said, though she had some different ideas about the ending. Never had any of her past adventures with the other Elements of Harmony had ended with a vicious revenge-inspired murder. But occasionally, as they had with Sombra or Tirek, the pony in question just couldn't be reformed. Sometimes they had to find other solutions. Rainbow wasn't going to lie and act like she wouldn't have been ready to fight alongside Gilda to get even. "But the cult's gone, Gilda. Celestia dismantled the whole hideout herself. Took all his evil artifacts and turned them to dust. If Dirge was still around, I'm sure she'd have thrown him down into Tartarus."
"So what do I do, then?" Gilda asked, turning away from her at last. She seemed to be looking back towards Griffonstone. "What I should do is get even. I'm even less into that magic stuff than you are, Dash. If the ponies can't figure it out, I can't. Who can I make pay for doing this to me?"
Rainbow Dash thought about that for several long seconds before answering. "If we can't get even... then I think the only thing left to do is make it so Dirge failed. He wanted you to hurt like he did. Wanted... wanted me to hurt." Again her voice nearly broke, but she powered through. "That's the only way we have to beat him now. You can make the next six months count. Maybe I can't go with you on a 'fight an evil cult' kind of adventure, but if you'd prefer to have an 'explore the whole world as quickly as possible' adventure, you know I'd be there! I've got enough bits, now that I'm with the Wonderbolts. What do you say? Forget about the pastries, and let's make this the best six months ever."
Gilda turned, staring at her from over her shoulder. "I... I'll think about it," she eventually said. "Don't you dare leave town until I decide." She glared back over her shoulder at Dash, but for the first time she could make out the barest hint of a smile.
Author's Note
So I've finally worked out the update schedule for this story! It should update on the first and third week of every month from now on.
Fluttershy looked up from her work, pausing long enough to toss the remainder of the prepared vegetables into the large basket before hurrying to the door. Who could possibly be visiting at such an early hour? Twilight or Rarity would've sent ahead to make sure she was expecting them. Applejack would be doing her chores, and Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash would probably be sleeping off whatever excitement they'd been up to the night before. Her steps grew more hesitant as she crossed her cabin, dodging deftly around the mice who had recently taken up residence on her floor.
Fluttershy hadn't chosen to live on the outskirts of Ponyville just because the rent was lower. She'd chosen this cabin specifically for its isolation: a random pony visitor was far less likely out here than an animal. "Hello?" she asked through the door, resting one hoof on it, but not opening it. "Who is it?"
"Your brother," came the voice from the other side, exactly as she remembered it. Maybe I don't have anything to worry about after all, she thought. He doesn't sound nearly as bad as Trixie or Big Mac . The idea of Zephyr Breeze having a cooler head than somepony as confident and collected as Big Mac seemed absurd, but...
Fluttershy opened the door just wide enough for her to look outside. "Hello Zephyr. I didn't know you were back in Ponyville."
Zephyr Breeze shoved on the door with his shoulder, forcing Fluttershy to retreat or else get flung across her own cottage. Zephyr was wearing a large set of saddlebags brimming with ill-packed belongings, and smelled like he'd taken the trail from Cloudsdale instead of the train. Of course, Fluttershy didn't say anything about it, just got out of his way and smiled as politely as she could. "Yes, well. A pony such as myself must go where the wind takes him, sometimes. I'm licensed now, you know. Salons all over Equestria are clamoring to have a pony like me as one of their stylists."
"Really?" Fluttershy glanced once back into the kitchen, where the dozen or so baskets of food for her animal friends had already been packed. She should really be on her way to the woods already. Her friends would get hungry waiting for her. "That's just wonderful, Zephyr. I'm glad..." She hesitated, unable to meet his eyes. Fluttershy had a great deal more experience being assertive than she once had, but that did not mean she could reminisce with him about the tragedy that was now more than half a year gone as though they were talking about the weather. "I'm glad you aren't letting the curse get you down."
She could still remember his terrified sobbing on that night, when the sorcerer Dirge had practically exploded o nly a few feet away, the magic of his curse killing every plant and insect and small animal in the building. Only Fluttershy had mourned for the many mice and spiders and cockroaches that called the old warehouse their home. But that had been before. None of them knew the worst magic of the curse was yet to come, sent forward into the future to steal the friends and family away from the ponies who had harmed Dirge most.
In some secret part of Fluttershy, she wished she could've got off easy, like Twilight had. Dirge hadn't targeted he r brother. But her wishes didn't matter, just like the reason for her delays didn't matter. Without waiting for her brother's response, Fluttershy hurried back into the kitchen, returning with the teetering pile of food-baskets in her grip. The mostly-loaded cart was waiting just outside for these last few meals, then it would be out to the White Tail Woods for the day's delivery.
Zephyr followed her as she worked, as though her motion didn't bother him. His tone didn't change even slightly. "Oh, you mean that? Yeah, I'm not like the other ponies. I had a nice long think about that, and I have everything worked out. There are so many reasons not to worry that worrying would only turn my mane gray prematurely. I simply couldn't allow that."
Fluttershy winced, though she didn't slow down. She worked methodically, packing the baskets into the old wooden cart Applejack had made for her many years ago. The solid apple-family craftsmanship held even now, despite the wear of many years. But you don't have years, Zephyr. Your mane won't ever turn gray now. Fluttershy didn't say any of that, it would be far too unkind. Instead she looked back. "I'm really sorry little brother, but I have to feed my animal friends. If you want, you could come with me, and we could talk on the way."
Zephyr looked thoughtful for a few seconds. It wasn't an offer Fluttershy expected him to take very seriously—walking around the woods would sound like work to him, and work of any kind took enormous willpower from her little brother. But to her surprise, Zephyr shrugged his dirty saddlebags right onto Fluttershy's floor, where one side opened, immediately spilling their contents all over the floor. Bits. The entire side of the bag was packed with bits, more than Fluttershy had ever seen in one place outside of a bank.
"Uh..."
"Y-you weren't supposed to see that," he whined, quickly scooping them all back inside it, and securing the latch. Thank Celestia Equestria was a safe country, or else Fluttershy would've had to fear for her brother's safety traveling with so much money. "I'd be happy to come with, sure. I can explain everything I've figured out. Perhaps it will be helpful to my slower-witted compatriots in victimhood."
"Sure," Fluttershy glanced back into the cabin one last time. She could see Angel looking out at her from the kitchen, staring meaningfully at Zephyr all the while. I know Angel. I'll tell him.
But she didn't tell him anything at first, just hitched herself up to the wagon as an earth pony might do, then started off down the road. Zephyr followed along beside without even an offer to take over the load. So, nothing unusual there. "So, what did you mean, little brother? Why aren't you..." She kept her voice down, quiet. It wasn't that there were other ponies out here to overhear—very few would be visiting the woods this early. Most ponies weren't even awake yet. "I mean, Princess Twilight is worried, and she's the smartest pony I know."
Zephyr shrugged one shoulder, prancing along beside her in a way that made it slightly difficult to avoid potholes and other obstructions in the trail. "I wouldn't dare criticize our nation's royal family," Zephyr said. "But sometimes I wonder if all that inbreeding maybe limited their thinking a little. Unicorns and their monogamy... it's not natural."
Fluttershy rolled her eyes. "Zephyr, monogamy and inbreeding aren't the same thing. There are thousands of unicorns in Canterlot. And even if it was, Twilight isn't noble. And Cadance was a pegasus before she became royalty."
Zephyr shrugged again. "I think you'll see my main point survives, big sis. I've been reading your letters about Twilight's progress, or lack thereof. She grew up hearing unicorns go on and on about the power and importance of unicorn magic, so of course she thinks that's the way out of this. When all you've got are wings, every problem looks like the sky."
She just kept walking. Couldn't let her growing worry show on her face, or any other way her brother might detect. It was a fight—Fluttershy was far less likely to hide what she was really thinking when she was with family. Yet now, maybe being a little shy was the best option. They were almost to the woods, and she could already hear the hungry cries of her animal friends. Some of them, like the little ferrets and weasels, would starve if they missed even a few meals. She couldn't stop no matter how important this conversation was. "Okay, Zephyr. I'm very interested to hear how you found a way around the curse. I'm sure Princess Twilight will be too. If you found a cure, I'm sure she'll be able to reproduce it for the others."
"Well..." He slowed a little, hesitating. Fluttershy didn't and soon she left him behind. He had to hurry after the cart to keep up. "It's not a cure exactly. Not as such. Just something that maybe she didn't notice. A few somethings, actually." He stopped then, looking meaningfully at her. Fluttershy remained silent, eyeing him expectantly. She didn't mind the silence, particularly when it would force him to explain what he was thinking. Eventually, he did. "First of all, I think the chances are good that Princess Twilight Sparkle will figure out the magic before the deadline runs out."
"Even though she said she wouldn't be able to?" Fluttershy asked. They were into the woods now, and a large crowd of birds, squirrels, and other small animals descended from the trees. Birds landed on every available surface, though there was a circle of clear ground around her brother. Fluttershy unhooked herself from the cart and removed the cloth covering its contents. "Now now, everyone." She looked down sternly at the crowd of adorable creatures. Even though she was only a few minutes late, they looked particularly pathetic today. Almost as though they were trying to emphasize that part of their appearance as much as possible. Trying to elicit as much of her sympathy as they could. Well, it worked. "Line up, everyone. I'm sorry I took a little longer today. I promise I haven't forgotten anyone."
She glared down at them all, waiting for the line to form, and only then did she look back to her brother. "Sorry, Zephyr. You were saying?"
"I was saying..." he said, puffing out his chest a little indignantly. "That Twilight's actions speak louder than her words. Of course, she doesn't want to claim she has the cure already, she doesn't want to make promises. It's all about liability and risk, I know how that is. If she told us at the beginning that she discovered the cure right away, we'd be expectant all year instead of grateful. And if things went wrong, she'd look like a fool. But, on the other hoof, if she claimed the whole thing was desperate, that she didn't know if there was any hope, that we should 'say goodbye' and 'resolve our affairs' and all that other..." He wrinkled his nose, muttering something unseemly.
"Zephyr!" Fluttershy hissed, a twinge of anger coloring her voice. "Not in front of my friends." She looked down at them. "I'm very sorry you all had to hear that. Please excuse my brother's rudeness."
He practically ignored her. "Just look at her history! You Elements of Harmony always win in the end. Every time Equestria is in danger or ponies might get hurt, you stop it just in time. You wait until the last second, when the drama is right... I bet she's waiting to do the same thing. She's probably already moved on to other research up in that lab of hers, and just doesn't want to tell anypony. Then, a day or two before the end, she'll come out with her mane on fire and announce a breakthrough at the last second. Mark my words."
"Zephyr..." She took a deep, steadying breath. She wanted to scream at him, but couldn't. Not with all these animals around who would be terrified of an outburst like that. "Zephyr, Twilight would never do that. If she found the cure, you'd already know. I know her—she wouldn't leave ponies to suffer, wondering if they were going to die, leaving their families to wonder how long..." She sniffed, brushing her tears away with one leg. A sparrow at the front of the line rested its head on hers and Fluttershy looked up, returning its smile. At least the animals were here to look out for her. "She doesn't have the cure. If Twilight says she doesn't think she'll find it, she was telling you the truth. I promise."
"Well." Zephyr swayed a little on his hooves, his tone faltering for a second. His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "That isn't the only reason. You know, I've gone to three different unicorn sorcerers. Best ones in Equestria, and all three told me the same thing: there's no spell on me. No enchantments, no curse, nothing. It might not help the others, but... maybe enchanting six ponies was just too much for Dirge. Maybe the spell didn't make it to me."
Fluttershy kept working. At least it gave her something to do that didn't involve meeting her brother's eyes. She wouldn't want him to see just how upset she was. "It's a time spell, Zephyr. Twilight explained it to us, remember? It doesn't look like there's a spell on you because it affects future you. That's what makes it so hard to stop, because it already happened. Or it... already will happen..."
"Ah, see!" He wasn't even trying to keep his tone even by this point. His voice got higher, louder, faster. The animals backed away from him. "I've thought about that too. About what you might call the 'worst case' scenario. And there's a solution there too, even if you're right. A solution I'm surprised nopony has thought of yet."
"Okay." Fluttershy looked up. "What is it?"
"So this magic can break the rules. It can kill ponies no matter where they go, no matter what protections they use, straight through time and space. Who do we know who has magic who breaks the rules? What... immediate family member of mine is there who has a close personal friendship to the God of Chaos?"
Fluttershy froze, feeling an involuntary shiver pass through her body. She was worried for a moment, perhaps in vain, that Zephyr's words might summon that very being here to tell him what he had explained to her, on the night after she learned everything there was to know about the curse. Discord would not be sensitive to her brother's delicate sensibilities, she knew. He'd be as blunt as possible, probably with a graphic demonstration as well.
But Discord didn't come, thank Celestia. He was probably still out searching for spell ingredients, as he had been since summer began. His presence was not what her troubled brother needed right now. "Zephyr..." She took a deep breath, before returning to passing out the food. She was watching him this time, though. Giving him the courtesy of looking him in the eye. "I don't want to discourage you, I don't. But I have to tell you the truth—I already talked to Discord about it."
His eyes widened hopefully, and he hurried over to her, scattering animals as he went. "Yes, yes? What did he say?"
"Well, the magical side didn't make sense to me. But what I remember for sure is that the only way he knew to give you a chance of escaping was to do the same thing with his magic that the spell does, only different. To... send you into the future. So far that the magic won't be able to follow you. Hundreds of years." She whimpered. "So far that you might as well have died, since nopony you know will be around. If you do that... then maybe you'll live. In an Equestria that's forgotten you existed, forgotten about your whole family... about all of us. Well, maybe not Twilight. You might be able to find her somewhere. But the rest of us..." She shrugged one shoulder. "That's the only solution he had. It's... apparently a hard spell. Rare ingredients. Discord is out looking for them, but... there's no telling if he'll find them. He's not really a god, you know. Just... really good with magic. He can be beaten just like anypony else." And he has been, more than once. My friends and I have done it.
But Discord was on their side now. Maybe he'd be able to offer the spell in time, or maybe he wouldn't. There was no telling yet. She hadn't heard from him in months. "Woah." Zephyr retreated from her. "You're telling me... even a pony who knows as much about magic as he does... even he doesn't have the cure?"
"Well, not a pony." She shook her head. "No, he doesn't. He has a way to maybe help some of you, but that's it. No cure."
"There's some other way through this," Zephyr said, retreating another few steps away from her. His wings opened and closed once, and a few broken feathers fell to the ground at his hooves. He obviously hadn't been properly caring for his wings. "Maybe Celestia has it, waiting in the wings. Maybe she's just giving the rest of us a chance to work things out, maybe..." He shook his head, and his voice still came out in a rush. "No, it's not happening like this. I'm sorry for wasting your morning, big sis. But I've got to..." He turned back towards her cabin. "Ponies to see, you know! There are a few more wizards to talk to. I'll be in touch!" And with that he galloped away, ignoring her shouts.
By the time Fluttershy finished feeding the animals and made it back home, she found her brother long gone. He'd only left a note, as well as a modestly sized pile of bits.
"Sister—when I went to the court, Princess Celestia gave me these to use to search out my own solution to this problem. Please take these in exchange for your trouble this morning. I have other avenues to explore, and hopefully the wind will take me to one that doesn't involve saying goodbye to the ponies I love. Keep sending me letters—I think you'll find your Princess friend will have a solution for us before I do.
-Zephyr"
Fluttershy stared down at the letter for a long time before she started to cry.
"Are you absolutely certain of this, Miss Rarity?" Equivalent Exchange asked, eyebrows raised from behind thin glasses.
"Oh, quite sure," Rarity said, pushing the bill of transfer closer to him. On it was an absurd sum of bits, enough to open two more branches of her clothing shop. "I've already gone over the terms of the contract, and my decision is final."
"I still don't understand why you allowed her to run her own side-business instead of just firing her..." Exchange shook his head disapprovingly, looking back at the contract. "Fifty thousand bits of outstanding debt in exchange for... one defunct location, and the rights to market designs for..." he levitated the contract up into the air, squinting at it. "mare's clothing and assorted costumes. If you'll allow me to be unnecessarily crude for a moment—this purchase stands no chance of paying off. You might as well melt down your bits and make them into a nice paperweight, at least they'd do you more good."
Rarity narrowed her eyes at her lawyer, her tone growing just a tad more tense. "Old friend, I... I hazard to guess I have a different understanding of doing 'good' with my bits than you do. I'm quite certain this is the right investment."
Dealing with the legal procedures of actually buying the debt, clearing away liabilities and finally claiming ownership of the property was an enormously painful process, far moreso than parting with the bits. Even having a lawyer on retainer to deal with such matters could only make so much of the pain go away. Ultimately ponies were negotiating with her, and every one of them wanted to squeeze poor Coco for every bit she was worth. Rarity paid them all, absolved every last debt, then made a single detour to a takeout shop along her way to her destination.
It was early evening by the time her cab stopped in one of the dingy parts of manehattan, where the the peace was frequently interrupted with barking dogs, loud sirens, and other such unpleasantness. "Are you, uh... are you sure you want me to stop here?" The cabby asked, looking all around the street, then back at Rarity. She was still dressed in a fine white dress and jewelry, the same one she'd worn to the negotiations with the movers and shakers of the city.
It was not the sort of clothing ponies wore around here. "It will be fine, dear." Rarity said, climbing from the cab. "But I would appreciate it if you would linger here on the street until I make it inside, just in case. Oh, and... perhaps get yourself or another pony you trust to return tomorrow morning. I'm not certain there's a working phone inside, and I 'd rather not wait out here to hail a cab." She levitated over a few extra bits, setting them down on the seat beside him. "If it isn't too much trouble."
"No trouble, miss." the cabby said. "I'll wait here, just like you said."
"Delightful," Rarity smiled another winning grin for the cabby, before turning and hurrying up the street to Coco Pommel's small retail building. The smell of steaming Quiche and fresh vegtables mixed together in the air with the far less savory odors of downtown, and she tried not to smell them too closely. True, not all the food was for her, but she was hungry. Wouldn't want to spoil her appetite.
She wasn't really worried about being attacked, and she marched straight up to the glass windows like a pony who knew they owned the city. Much to her satisfaction, the few other ponies on the street got out of her way, giving her respectful distance she doubted very much most ponies got around here. Woe betide any roughian who thinks of laying a hoof on me. Rarity wasn't the soft, vulnerable pony she'd been all those years ago, when the diamond dogs kidnapped her. She'd fought during the Changeling invasion, for Celestia's sake.
Rarity stood now in what might've been a charming little section of shops a generation ago. But as things always seemed to go in the city, the wealthy had moved away to new, trendier sections of town, taking their bits with them. Coco had been one of the few she knew who cared to try and combat the trend—building her own little shop into an old live-above shop that had once sold saddles or something else archaic. But where Rarity targeted the wealthy and famous of Equestria, custom-designing masterpieces for ponies who spent more on clothes than most spent on food, Coco had focused on the average pony.
"Most ponies are too shy to wear anything," Coco said. "They're either stuck with what comes in the catalogues, or spending more than they can afford on clothes they'll only wear a few times a year."
Rarity still remembered the shop as it had been a year ago, modest, but with a glittering window. The fashions on display had been manufactured in a factory, but the designs were Coco's own and she did custom fittings for every customer. Now that Rarity had bought all her assets, she'd seen Coco's tax records from before her life had fallen apart. Yes, the store was modest, but it had once seen more clients in an hour than Rarity saw in a week. Even a modest amount of bits could add up. But rarity hadn't bought the business because of its potential for making bits.
The front windows were dusty now, any displays that might be inside now obscured from sight. The door was completely covered in "EVICTION" and "NOTICE OF PUBLIC AUCTION" notices, each one bolder and more obtuse than the last. Rarity paused at the door, focusing a spell that would gently pry them from the wall, removing each one in turn and tucking it away in her bag. The auction had come and gone, and Coco hadn't done a thing about it. Rarity might not even have known, except that she inexplicably stopped showing up for work. Previous attempts to reach out to her had failed, and Rarity had been forced to replace her, though she hadn't stopped sending Coco her paycheck each week. But not for much longer. Only two more months, and this is all over.
In addition to all of Coco's tax records, Rarity now had the key to this building. She opened the door quietly, pushing it open. She wasn't surprised to hear it squeak a little. The door didn't move very far at first, catching on something right inside the room. She stopped, her horn glowing fiercely as she pushed. It didn't take as much force as she'd expected, and the door went banging open. Envelopes went flying through the air, a small mountain of mail. Most of it looked like bills—the creditors Rarity had paid off only a few hours before. Plenty of them were marked with the stationary of Rarity's own boutique— Coco's paychecks not even opened. In this part of town you could've paid almost everything with just your salary, Coco. What in Celestia's name were you thinking leaving it here?
The shop interior wasn't so bad as she'd thought from the outside. The shelves were mostly empty, and what clothing did remain was so ugly even the thieves hadn't considered it worth stealing. The manakins were empty, the till was missing its cash drawer, and a few mirrors had been cracked. There was also a general layer of dust covering everything, thick enough that rarity left hoofprints. As she stepped inside, she couldn't help herself—she had to pause by the door, tidying up all the mail. Rarity wasn't entirely surprised to find exactly six months worth of pay from the boutique unopened—enough to date to the month she had stopped coming to work.
Rarity locked the door to the outside, just in case, then wandered back across the shop in search of the stairwell up to where Coco lived. She passed through another set of doors first, leading into a studio not unlike the one rarity herself used. Compared to the storefront, this area looked pristine. The machines looked in good working order, without a thick layer of dust that would've gummed up their workings. Designs and patterns were pinned to drafting tables, and several different garments in various stages of completion. Some of it looked like it had been worked recently. Far more recently than anypony had visited the rest of the shop, that was for sure. There was also a back door here leading into the alley, one that didn't looked caked over with dust. I guess this explains how you've been living in here for all this time without ever leaving your shop.
There was also a set of rickety-looking stairs, free of cobwebs and with a pair of streaks running through the dust. I'm terribly storry to intrude on you, dear, but you've forced my hoof. Rarity started to climb.
The smell hit her before she was even halfway up, a smell like a steel dumpster full of truly putrescent filth left to fester for weeks in the sun. Rarity began to gag, before pausing to cast a little shield spell around her head. The spell was meant for gem-mining trips into caverns with limited air, but... it would serve her just as well now.
There was a small door at the top of the stairs, like the front of a charming flat, but any charm the little home might've had was lost in the mountain of rotting garbage. There was a thin aisle between bags of filth, not even wide enough for a pony to pass through.
"Absolutely not," rarity muttered to herself. "This ends right here." Rarity might not have the skill Twilight did with teleportation— she could never have brought a living pony very far without fear that they might suffer something unfortunate along the way. But inanimate objects were simpler. And in this case, I think I'd rather like it if they just disappeared.
Rarity had a special place in mind, the same one she used to banish all her own bad designs, about a hundred feet above Ponyville's trash dump. Her horn glowed, the bags flashed, and suddenly the ground was clear again. Well, except for the warping and stains on the floor—those were stuck forever.
The smell didn't go away either—that might take weeks. Rarity opened the windows on either side of the room so the process could begin, and only then made her way through the open door into the apartment.
Like the exterior, Coco's apartment had once been a charming little flat. Rarity had visited for tea on more than one occasion, talking shop and designs with her colleague. Coco's approach to fashion had been far more down-to earth in a way Rarity had greatly admired.
It looked almost as bad as the hall outside. There was trash everywhere, and so much junk scattered about that Rarity couldn't see the furniture. Just like the entryway, a thin aisle was kept clear through the garbage, with little enough in it for Rarity not to trip. She didn't 'step in further than the entryway, though. Even though she now owned the building, Rarity had no intention of treating her friend with anything less than the respect she deserved. "Excuse me," she said, banging on the door. It sagged a little under her hoof, oozing something under the pressure. Rarity winced, knocking on the doorframe instead. "Excuse me, Miss Pommel... we really must have a word."
She heard something from far into the apartment, a voice muffled by at least one closed door.
"I'm sorry dear, you really must speak up. I'm coming in!" she did, stepping over the threshold and into the kitchen. Another casting of her banishment spell and the kitchen was clear of trash, though she wasn't sure how much more she could use the spell without risking she might accidentally take away something Coco wanted to keep. Coco wasn't a hoarder, or at least, she hadn't been before this all started, but there was no telling how rational a pony would be in her situation.
"I brought dinner!" she called, just as loudly as before. "You really must enjoy it while it's still warm. The Egglectic Cafe is to die for when it's..." she trailed off, sighing. "Well, it's quite good!" She levitated the contents of the table off and onto Coco's already packed sofa, setting down the food she'd brought and beginning to open everything up. Thank Celestia she'd asked for paper plates, she wasn't sure she'd trust eating off any surface in Coco's home just now.
She heard the voice a few more times from the back, too weakly to hear. "I'm sorry dear, I couldn't make that out. Why don't you join me in the kitchen?" She continued on like that as she unpacked, and eventually her persistence paid off.
Coco emerged from the back of the apartment looking like a pony who'd been run over by a manure cart (and not smelling much better). Her mane was a mess, her coat hadn't seen a brush in ages, and her eyes looked bloodshot. She wore a ratty-looking robe that looked like it might'be been quite comfortable once, until it had a dozen different things spilled on it and was left out to dry. "Hello." she said, slumping into the chair across the table, and not looking up at Rarity. She didn't seem to see much of anything—not the food, not the table, not the changes to her home Rarity had made.
Rarity almost always greeted old friends with a hug, but she skipped the exercise this time. She also dropped her air-shield, which would've made their conversation more than a little awkward. The smell hit her again, and it took everything she could do not to wretch. I would've happily paid a hundred thousand bits not to smell any of this. Unfortunately, generosity was more than money. It also meant giving up her time, doing the things that nopony else could do. And she has so little of that left...
"You should try the food." Rarity said, levitating a plate over. Steam still rose from it, the aroma momentarily more powerful than the filth of the apartment all around them. "It’s Egglectic Cafe, your favorite."
"Yeah," Coco said, without emotion. "I guess it was." She looked down at the food, considering it for a long moment. Then she started eating. Rarity tried not to watch, tried very hard not to stare, but she couldn't help herself. Coco had always been a bit on the heavier side, but she wasn't anymore. Beneath the robe was a pony who had let themselves wither away—not lithe and fit, as the fashion models were. But bony, unhealthy, wizened.
Rarity distracted herself with her own plate, but she wasn't really hungry anymore. The entryway had done that. "Well, uh... you may've heard, dear. There was a bit of a bother about some... financial matters." she waved a hoof through the air, dismissively. "About your estate, and all."
Coco grunted in response, if that. She didn't stop eating, or even look up. She wasn't scarfing down the food, like a pony who felt as hungry as she looked. It seemed, rather, to be a methodical process. She was eating because that's what Rarity expected of her.
"Well, I... I took the liberty of stepping in on your behalf. I know we haven't been in touch much over the last few months, but..." she lifted something out from her bag and set it on the table next to Coco. The deed to the building, freshly signed, and passed it toward her. "Here, you take it. I've also paid forward all of your bills for the next three months, and established a trust in your name to deal with the incidentals."
That finally got Coco's attention. She looked up from her food, glancing between the deed and Rarity, and her eyes started to water. "I-I thought... when you came in... I-I thought you were the police... f-finally come to take me away. Didn't... wouldn't much matter... die in a cell, die in my apartment... what's the difference?"
Rarity took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. This might be the first time she'd ever dealt with a pony as badly off as Coco was now, but she'd known this pony before. It wasn't her fault her life had been ruined. "Twilight is... still working on it." she eventually said. "She hasn't given up, and neither should you."
The other mare shrugged. "She hasn't admitted it, but she gave up. I can tell. A doctor doesn't tell a pony who's going to make it that they should say goodbye to their family. But I don't have any family, Rarity. Only my brother, and we're not even on speaking terms anymore. When I'm gone, how will anypony even know I was here?"
"Well... that depends," she had to be very careful here. Equivalent Exchange might've thought Rarity made this purchase to get her hooves on Coco's designs, but she couldn't let Coco believe that. She wasn't some vulture, here to snap up the corpse of a dying business and squeeze out what bits she could. Rarity loathed such ponies.
"When I'm gone, I hope I'll live on in my fashion. Not... well, we both know how fast this industry moves. Trends change from year to year. How many designers from a century ago are ponies still wearing? But all the same—I think about all the lives of ponies I've made better. All the ponies who had the perfect night. Maybe a romance flowered because a special somepony looked and felt like their best selves. Maybe I helped a nervous pony feel confident enough to go out into the world and live the way she wanted. I'm not sure, but... that's what I want."
"I might've been like that," Coco said, slumping onto the table. Her face went halfway into the half-eaten food, and she didn't even seem to notice. "Until this curse. I was going to be like you, Rarity. I had a plan... ponies knew my name. But now no matter what I do... it just won't matter. It's like I was never even born, and all because somepony I never even heard of hated you."
Rarity winced, but she didn't look away. It was every bit as unfair as Coco suggested. "We both agree it's unfair you're involved. We both agree I should be the one cursed. But..." she took a deep breath. "I see you've kept on designing. Everything else has... well, to be frank dear, it's fallen apart. But your workshop looks exactly how I remember. There are dozens of notebooks down there."
"All full," Coco moaned. "All the ideas I'll never get to try. I never thought I'd change the lives of wealthy ponies— they already have plenty. Maybe my ideas weren't as beautiful as yours, weren't as unique as yours... but the auto loom can actually make them, and even a dock worker can buy one for his special somepony, so shouldn't she get to feel special too?"
"Yes," Rarity said. "They should."
"And they won't, because Dirge wants some ponies he didn't even know to die, and we will, and even Celestia can't stop it."
Rarity waited a moment, to see if Coco had anything more to say. Only when she was sure she didn't did she continue. "I... well, I don't think it's fair either. And... I'd be willing to help. It's a less than ideal solution to be sure, but it's a solution nonetheless. I have... well, I already have distribution channels throughout Equestria. If... if you'd like an avenue for your designs to live on... I could arrange it. Not with the personal touch you gave to your customers, but..."
Coco looked up from her plate again, taking a moment to brush away the remains of the meal. "Y-you... you would?"
"Of course!" She didn't hesitate. "And I could arrange to have your profits directed to... whatever cause you desired. This brother of yours, perhaps, or..."
She rolled her eyes. "I don't care about the bits, Rarity." she waved one hoof at the apartment all around her. "Just look."
"Yes, well..." Rarity cleared her throat. "I don't mean to bring up something so crass. I only... I wanted you to know it would be your endeavor, even if you weren't around to lead it. I would follow whatever instructions you left for me, and make best use of your designs for as long as possible. I would never want my own product mass produced and sold in stores all over Equestria... but what I want for my work wouldn't matter here. Your wishes would be respected."
"Y-you mean it?"
Rarity nodded. "I do. I insist, actually." She levitated the other sheet of paper out of her bag. It was another promissory note, just like the one she'd used at auction. The amount on it was nearly as large. "Two months isn't much time, but it should be enough to set a foundation in place for me to follow. Why don't you come with me tomorrow, and we can get started?"
Coco stared down at the banknote, her eyes wet with tears. Then, hoof shaking, she took it.
Author's Note
So this chapter is being posted while I'm away from home on my vacation, so my editors didn't get a chance to look at it as thoroughly as we normally would. I apologize for any minor mistakes that slipped through.
Pinkie Pie bounced her way through the party with one of the biggest smiles she'd ever worn. She had to keep smiling, couldn't let herself stop for even a second. Almost nopony here was smiling, so she had to bring enough happiness to fill the whole farmhouse. It was an exhausting job. Particularly when she didn't feel like smiling herself.
Maud had insisted Pinkie needed to decorate “like a going away party.” For the first time in her life, Pinkie Pie had been the one to ask for permission to use subdued decorations. For the first time in her life, she had been refused.
So instead of black and white, her family's old farmhouse was decorated with an explosion of color. Since it was Maud's going away party, she'd used rocks as a theme, bringing in cartloads of crystals, glittering geodes, and every other beautiful thing. There was rock candy, and rock music, and everything else related to rocks Pinkie could think of. Colored rock-shaped ice floated in the punch like an underground river, and she paused to take a sip, tasting her super-secret special recipe she'd made for so many cheerful and uplifting occasions before. I might have to come up with a different recipe after this. I don't think I'll want to taste this again.
Most of the other guests looked as uncomfortable as she felt. Her own friends were no exception, or at least the friends who could make it. Fluttershy had come as much on Maud's request as Pinkie's, and had her own sinister guest waiting in a cage behind the farmhouse. Rainbow Dash was probably getting hopelessly drunk celebrating Gilda's last night with the griffons. Twilight was still desperately searching for a cure they all knew she wasn't going to find. Applejack was at home with her family, spending her last few hours with her brother before Dirge's necromancy caught up with him. At least Rarity had made it.
But Pinkie Pie didn't blame any of them for not coming. They had their own loved ones to remember in their own way. But why does Maud want to celebrate my way?
Maud seemed like the only pony in the whole house who was enjoying herself. Granted, her expression hadn't actually change d all night, at least not in any way a pony less familiar with her than Pinkie was could discern. Maud seemed to be making more of an effort to socialize with her many friends and well-wishers. Pinkie would've laughed to see so many conversations where Mau d was the pony who sounded cheerful. Compared to the tears she saw from everypony else, anyway.
How can you be so happy? You're going to be dead tomorrow! Repeatedly this year, Pinkie Pie had heard horror stories about the way others affected by Dirge's spell had dealt with their fate. But at least anger, depression, and denial all seemed like natural reactions. To watch a pony so acceptin g of the whole thing… It's like she was never excited about living in the first place.
"This party is fantastic, Pinkie," Maud said from behind her, causing Pinkie to jump a foot into the air, squealing with surprise.
She landed facing the other way, eyes still wide. "Sorry, didn't see you behind me! Thanks! I'm glad you like it!"
How had Pinkie found her way into the back of the dining room, all alone? Not to cry where nopony could see, that was for sure. Pinkie Pie would never do that.
"What's wrong?" Maud asked. Her tone never changed, but Pinkie could tell she was concerned. Just like Maud could always tell what she was feeling. It came from how closely they'd grown up.
"N-nothing," Pinkie lied. "You came to one of my parties, why would anything be wrong? This is perfect! Everypony is having such a wonderful time!" Another lie, that one more obvious than the first. "Why wouldn't ponies be excited to come to a party where you die at the end? Why wouldn't a pony be just super-duper excited to lose her sister best friend forever before daytime. No reason! No reason at all!"
Maud gave her the flattest of her flat looks, eyes narrowing. Then she reached forward with a hoof and pulled Pinkie into a hug. That was when Pinkie Pie started crying. She sobbed her way through muddled words of apology, sobbed through her worries about how the family probably blamed her for Maud dying and just didn't want to admit it. The way sh e blamed herself for Maud's involvement, when her sister had nothing to do with Dirge. The words kept coming, spilling out of Pinkie Pie's mouth until she'd used them all up.
She slumped to the floor, her mane falling flat around her shoulders. She didn't care to move it, didn't care to see through the pink to the world outside. A world that, tomorrow, wouldn't have her sister in it.
Maud held her. She didn't rush her to finish, didn't even speak as Pinkie emptied her eyes and her heart. She remained still, patient, until her sister had finally finished. Then she cleared her throat, lifting Pinkie's head with one hoof so she was forced to look into her eyes. "Listen to me, Pinkie," she said, her tone final, absolute. "None of this is your fault. When a beautiful dolomite breaks off and rolls down a mountain, I don't blame anypony that it's turned to gravel. If it lands on somepony's house, it isn't the fault of the engineer who decided to put it there."
"But—"
Pinkie winced as she felt a hoof jammed into her mouth. It tasted like dirt.
"I'm not finished," Maud said. "Pinkie, you've been the best sister ever. You brought light into our family when none of us knew anything but rocks. I liked the rocks, but sometimes the colors are nice too." She glanced briefly up to the streamers and banners on the ceiling, approving. "I don't expect you to understand tonight. Maybe you won't even believe me. But I won't die upset. I'm not worried about the end of this party, I'm not afraid." She smiled, or as close to a smile as Pinkie had ever seen on her sister.
But then again, this was also more speaking than she'd ever heard from her sister at one time. "I don't even resent the one who did it," Maud continued. "I don't know why he thought that hurting ponies would fill the holes in his life... but I'm sorry for him. Sorry that he didn't have a sister like I did, who could have shown him that there was another way."
Maud finished, let her go, pulled away. There was silence between them for nearly thirty whole seconds. Longer than Pinkie Pie could even remembe r staying quiet at one time.
Then she felt a little of the spring come back in her mane. "I'll visit you," she said. "Every year, just like always."
"Good," Maud said. "I will miss our conversations... but rocks don't talk as much as ponies. You'll understand." Maud reached into her pocket with her teeth, setting something down on the dining-room table beside them. A well-worn pebble, though Pinkie Pie knew it was a very specifi c rock. "I want you to take care of Bolder. He eats rock food at six AM and six PM. Don't be late, or he'll get cranky." She removed a box of rock food from her dress as well. "This is the brand he likes. He's very picky."
"Sure." Pinkie felt tears streaming down her face again as she picked up the rock in her teeth, tucking him away where she kept everything else she might need. Nopony else knew where that was, and Pinkie wasn't telling. Not even her sister. "I'll remember. I'll m-make a list, like Twilight does. Then I can look at it, and I'll remember."
"I know you will," Maud said, turning away. "There are more ponies here waiting to say goodbye. You will be here when it’s done?"
"Yeah," Pinkie said, though it wasn't what she wanted to say. "Until the end."
Pinkie Pie spent the remainder of the party being a good host—the best host she could be, under the difficult circumstances. She did her best to make sure everyone was enjoying the occasion as much as she could. But considering what they were here to "celebrate"... this would probably go down in history as Pinkie Pie's worst party ever.
Despite Maud's pleading, not very many of the guests stuck around for the party's morbid conclusion. A few of her colleagues from the university were still here, though Pinkie suspected their interest was more academic than friendly. Other than the two older professors, only Pinkie's own family and her two friends were present, all gathered together in the farmhouse's large dining room, all the furniture pushed aside. Fluttershy had already done her work, erecting a tall screen that obscured her cage and what it contained. She crouched near it even now, whispering reassuring things.
From beside her, Rarity leaned close to Pinkie, whispering into her ear. "You couldn't persuade her against this... positively uncouth course?" she asked, watching with the same horror as the other ponies in the room.
"Nope," Pinkie Pie responded. "Maud was preeeeeety sure she—" But she didn't finish, as Maud walked slowly over to the other side of the room, where she could see them all.
"Ponies," she said in her flattest, most emotionless voice. "You all know what will happen when the sun comes up. I have decided not to allow that to happen, and to choose my own... death." She paused, looking over to Pinkie and the rest of the family. They were all crying now—but the time for objection and persuasion was over. Not even their father had managed to convince Maud to change her mind. "A cockatrice is waiting in that cage. It will petrify me. Princess Twilight says the effects of the curse will make it permanent when the sun rises."
She paused, turning to look in the direction of the screen.
Pinkie wondered if Fluttershy had taken the curtain off the cage yet. For once, she didn't bounce over to look.
"Some of you know I had a will prepared years ago, after Nightmare Moon came to Equestria. I wanted to become what I loved when I died. I have already given specific instructions for where I am to be buried, so I can experience all the stages of the rock cycle for myself. If the princess is right, and the curse does work... please follow the instructions I left."
She sat down on the ground, folding her legs under her into a comfortable, resting position. Then she closed her eyes, tucking her head up against her chest. "Fluttershy."
Pinkie Pie could barely hear anything through the sound of her own sobbing. She reached out towards her sister, but didn't move from where she stood. Pinkie Pie knew from her time living beside the Everfree Forest that petrification itself wasn't permanent. Fluttershy could coax the cockatrice within its cage to reverse the process, as politely as she was speaking to it now. Everypony could be wrong! The curse could be tricked, it might not find her!
Her sister was so gray to begin with that Pinkie Pie could hardly tell the difference as the cockatrice's petrification magic crept up her body. But her dress changed, no longer reflecting the light of the candles the same way. Her sister didn't look up, didn't say another word as the spell traveled up her body.
Pinkie could hear one last sigh of exhaled breath, and in that breath, hear Maud's final emotions. Peace, acceptance, contentment. Then she was still.
"It's, um..." Fluttershy emerged from the side of the screen, before folding it up. She lowered her head respectfully to Pinkie's parents. "We'll b-be here to reverse it in a few hours. Once the curse is over."
Pinkie Pie herself was the first to speak, pulling Fluttershy in for a hug. "T-thanks for doing that for her, Fluttershy. You don't know how much it meant to her."
Fluttershy herself seemed a little shaken, but she returned the gesture anyway. "O-of course, Pinkie. I hope it works." She lowered her voice to a quiet mutter. "I wish Zephyr had talked to her. I wish he'd... t-talk to me."
Pinkie Pie let go. "Maybe all those bits he spent paid off?" she suggested, though she didn't sound hopeful. "Maybe he'll escape too. Just like... M-Maud will."
"Yeah," Fluttershy responded, wiping a few tears from her eyes. "Maybe he will."
They wouldn't know until morning. Pinkie Pie didn't have much hope—her Pinkie Sense hadn't suggested any unexpected good fortune with three twitches of her tail and an itchy left hoof. Unless that happened, she had a pretty good idea what would be waiting for them in the morning.
It wouldn't be good.
It wasn't just the Elements of Harmony that mourned that day. In a nation like Equestria, Dirge's powerful spell constituted more murders than had been seen in decades. Though Twilight had worked herself to the bone, though Discord had searched far and wide for the ingredients to his time-travel spell, nothing had been enough. The five cursed ponies (and one griffon) all died exactly as the awful spell promised.
With the whole nation watching, Celestia declared a national holiday of remembrance forevermore. Equestria had not been able to prevent the deaths of some of its most-beloved sons and daughters, but it would do everything it could to prevent similar disasters from occurring in the future. Ponies young and old were encouraged to spend the day with their friends and families, reflecting on the value of their lives and how destructive hatred could be to the lives of those who let it control them.
Of Dirge himself, there were few words spoken that day. Few outside those affected even knew his name, as Equestria had gone to enormous lengths to ensure that the stallion and his accomplishments had been forgotten. His sanctum had been burned, his acolytes imprisoned, and all his research destroyed. Equestria could only hope all that would be enough.
But while the pony who had caused so much pain for so many was barely known by name, there was a service held to remember the ponies who were killed. Princess Twilight Sparkle didn't know what Celestia had done to recover the bodies so quickly, or make them look so peaceful.
She sat in the front row, only a few strides away from the row of six caskets, each in a different color and marked with the cutie mark of the deceased. Four of the coffins were open, displaying the bodies of the dead. Twilight could faintly sense the spell on them, keeping the ponies within as fresh and vibrant-looking as they had been when they were alive. The other two coffins were shut, those that would belong to Maud and the griffon Gilda. Both had their own wishes regarding their burial, and so the boxes here were merely symbolic. There was nothing inside them.
Twilight still felt very near to death herself. Spike had been begging her to slow down for weeks now, to eat more, sleep more, take more time outside the lab. She hadn't even noticed that she had lost whole sections of her mane's color in the stress, gone from purple to white and gray. Alicorn she might be, but she was not immune to the stress she had inflicted on herself. I’ll get better. Celestia isn't letting me go back to work until I take a full month's vacation. Maybe some time with the girls will help me feel better.
Twilight Sparkle was less sure any of her friends would feel like relaxing much after this. She felt guilty about that too—the pony resting in the blue casket at the front of the row had been put here because Dirge mistook a rival for a friend. Twilight had not wept for Trixie. On the surface, she would've been pleased never to see the mare again. But not like this. But now that she looked over her shoulder at the crowd and saw only a few ponies here for Trixie—no family, no friends, only a hooffull of her dedicated fans... now she cried.
Princess Celestia had not been able to save her ponies, despite her love for them. But she had done everything in her power to make the occasion as bearable as possible. She had organized the ceremony herself, setting aside the throne room of Canterlot Castle as the site for the memorial. She had also provided a location in Canterlot's own royal cemetery for those slain, where they might rest with the honored heroes of Equestria’s past.
Maybe future historians will find your grave one day, Trixie. I'll make sure it says something good about you.
Princess Celestia led the ceremony. She directed the attention of the ponies to consider the importance of Friendship and Kindness in Equestria's future, considering all that the failing of those virtues had cost. She explained much to the families of the dead regarding what Equestria would do in the future to make sure that no more families would suffer as they did.
"We have the families and friends of each of our departed ponies," Celestia said. "I invite anypony with kind memories of the departed to step forward." Her eyes seemed to linger on Twilight and her friends, even though they were thoroughly spread throughout the room. "There are six ponies here with us today whose lives were saved by those we're remembering.
"Let us not remember those who are responsible for this tragedy, and instead remember the love we have for those we lost. To that end, I invite each of the ponies whose lives were saved to step forward and tell us about their friends." Celestia returned to her throne beside her sister, then sat down. There was no music to fill the awkward silence, nothing but the shuffling of hooves as ponies looked around, waiting to see who would get up first. Twilight didn't—she didn't want to start the ceremony when there were so many other ponies here who had been close to the dead.
Applejack made her way to the podium. She sniffed, her eyes wide and puffy, but she managed to fight back her tears. "When I was just a wee little filly..." she began. She swallowed, looking up at the assembled ponies. Mostly she looked towards where her family was sitting. There were probably more apples in the throne room than everypony else combined. "My big brother promised he'd look out for me. I, uh... I needed it back then, ya' see. He kept his promise." That was all she could manage. Applejack pulled her hat down, obscuring her face as she made her way back to her seat.
There wasn't nearly as much awkward silence before Pinkie Pie got up. She wasn't bouncing today, and her mane fell flat around her as she spoke. "My sister liked rocks," she began. "I know that doesn't sound very exciting, but I promise nopony knows how awesome rocks can be until they've met my sister. She taught me everything I ever learned about rocks, including lots of things I didn't care about. But that never mattered, because I could always tell that even if I didn't care about rocks the way Maud did, she cared about me." She went on, getting progressively more tearful with each sentence she spoke. He words became more and more rambling until her sister Limestone finally rose to guide her gently away from the stage.
Pinkie Pie jerked away from her sister, returning to the podium and straightening a little as she spoke again. "I'll miss you, Maud. I'll never miss feeding Boulder, I promise." Then she went back to her seat.
By then, Rainbow Dash had already gotten up, and she made her way to the podium in a few quick flaps of her wings. "Gilda was kind of a jerk. Not like... not like some ponies are jerks. But she was a griffon, and they're like that. That doesn't mean they're bad ponies, because they... well, they're not ponies. Life is harder for them out there. They must be tough to survive, and that's worth respecting. I miss my friend, but I know she died without regrets. Some of the awesome stuff we were doing these last few months, you wouldn't believe! If you've ever..." she trailed off, sensing the uncomfortable looks. "Well, Gilda was awesome. She was my friend before I was cool. I hope whatever griffons do in the afterlife is as cool as she is."
Fluttershy made her way up next, looking positively overwhelmed by so many eyes on her. Twilight had thought she looked the worst of all her friends, but now that she got a good look at Fluttershy she could tell that she wasn't the only pony who had destroyed themselves with worry. Fluttershy would need a few weeks to recover when this was all over.
Then the pegasus made it to the podium, and started talking. At least, Twilight assumed she was. Her mouth was moving, but whatever she was saying was coming out so softly that Twilight couldn't hear her, not even up in the front row. Fluttershy went on like that for several minutes. Her parents in her nearly-empty section broke down in hysterical sobbing as Fluttershy spoke, but still she couldn't make out what she was saying. Only near the end did she seem to get up enough confidence to speak loud enough to hear. "I loved Zephyr. He might not have flown the fastest, or done the most, but he was nice to me. He listened. That's more than most ponies." She sat down.
Rarity rose from her seat in a far-away section with poise and decorum. Those who had come to remember Coco Pommel did not look unified by family like the apple section, at least not past the first few ponies at the front of the group. But they were by far the second most-numerous of any of the ponies here. Many of them were important names in Manehattan, though Twilight didn't follow politics closely enough to remember them. She'd seen them on magazines, anyway.
"My dear friend Coco Pommel..." Rarity said. "Often suffered ill-fortune. She encountered many obstacles on her quest to become a designer for the masses. What made Coco great was not just that she overcame the adversity she faced, but that she faced her adversity with poise. She thrived under pressure that has driven many an aspiring artist to stop creating before they create their masterpiece. My friend persevered. She toiled all these months to leave the gift she deserved to have a whole lifetime to create. She didn't have that time, but she didn't give up. She kept creating until the end. It was an honor to be her friend."
Rarity returned to her seat at the front of the discordant group. Eyes started to drift towards the seats set up for Trixie and her family. There was just one problem: it was almost empty. There was no family here to remember Trixie, only a few nervous-looking fans towards the back row. That meant all the ponies in the room were now watching Twilight. Including both princesses.
Twilight rose to her hooves, and walked up to the podium. Each step felt like miles, but she kept going through the silence. Eventually she reached it, and forced herself to turn around and see the ponies. "Trixie Lulamoon and I... weren’t close. I've never been much for magic shows." She fell silent, thinking desperately. But there was nopony to save her. "But Trixie is proof of what Equestria needs now most of all. She's proof that ponies who do bad things aren't necessarily bad ponies. They want the same things we do—love, acceptance, recognition. Trixie was a reminder to each of us that we can be better friends. I wish the pony who did all this had a friend, maybe we wouldn't be here right now. But ponies can't change the past... I've tried that, and it doesn't work."
She looked back at Trixie's section. Spike sat beside where she had been, giving her a thumbs-up of encouragement. Other than him, none of Trixie's fans seemed to even be watching her. What few of them there were. "Trixie taught me more than most ponies. Equestria is poorer without her."
When everypony had said their piece... something that took several hours, given how many had come... they relocated to the royal cemetery before the three fresh monuments, one for each of the ponies who was going to be buried here. Trixie's, naturally, was twice as large as the others. Coco and Zephyr had both requested modest markers—Coco a simple carved relief of a filly wearing one of her dresses and Zephyr a list of his accomplishments on an average-sized obelisk. The other dead either weren't here or wouldn't be buried in Canterlot.
Twilight cried as she watched the graves lowered into the ground. She threw in a few hooffulls of fresh soil. Then they separated.
After Twilight visited each of her friends, she found her way back to the castle. She sat in the lab still packed with her notes, filled so high with books and scribblings and broken quills that she had to fly over some parts. She perched across a bookshelf and looked out the window at the town. She'd fought Trixie out there, years ago. She'd won. But Trixie had paid a bigger price than any of them anticipated.
Twilight Sparkle didn't know if she would miss Trixie, not the way her best friends would miss the ponies they had lost. But she could try.
Author's Note
And thus ends Time of Death. Hopefully nobody saw this as a terrible surprise. I tried to use the tags to warn you! Thanks to Vilken666 for making this story possible--it was written to his specifications as part of my Patreon . Thank you so much to all those who joined me for this... experiment. It was a challenge to write at points, but I think I learned a lot making it. It's amazing what you can make into a story. Patreon has been a real learning experience for me so far--learning to write ideas that aren't my own, trying to structure the emotional beats of a genre I've never even tried before. Hopefully, this was at least a passable attempt.
One of those on the editorial staff suggested I should consider writing an alternate version of this ending--one that's a bit more upbeat. I'll post that later tonight before I mark the story complete.
It wasn’t just the Elements of Harmony who prepared for the worst that morning. In a country as peaceful as Equestria, the looming death of so many was news that spread. The morning came exactly on schedule, along with scheduled rain in most large cities to commemorate those who died. There was just one problem.
Pinkie Pie didn’t expect anything to happen. She watched from the other side of the screen as Fluttershy extracted her cockatrice from its cage—the monster itself just an outline. Her whole family was all still there, watching. Pinkie had already cried herself dry, so she just sat there, feeling cold.
“Go on,” she heard Fluttershy whisper. “Change her back. You’ve been so helpful, Mr. Cockatrice… just this one last spell, and we’ll head right home. Won’t that be nice?”
Pinkie didn’t understand the animal’s chittering reply. She watched her sister, grayer and more motionless than usual. She’d been frozen that way for a few hours now… long enough that the sun was shining through the window. This is it, she thought. Twilight said she won’t be able to change back. Dirge’s curse would follow her.
Maud took a breath.
Everypony in the room stopped what they were doing. Her mother dropped her glass, her sister Marble stopped sobbing. Everyone turned, giving Maud their full attention. Had it been her imagination?
Pinkie wanted to walk up to her, but knew that wasn’t allowed. She didn’t want to be turned into a statue, she’d already tried that once. It hadn’t been fun last time. Maud’s dress fell limply against her body, no longer a stony part of the carving that looked exactly like her sister. She blinked, her eyes reflecting the light of the sun on her face.
“Maud!” Pinkie exclaimed, her mane returning to its energetic self in less than a second. “You’re alive!”
Her sister took a long time to speak. She looked around, eyes moving now. Pinkie hadn’t been wrong.
“It worked,” Fluttershy said, replacing the blanket on the cage and pushing the screen down. Her tone had changed, from bleak and hopeless to curious, interested. “It shouldn’t have worked…”
“Oh,” Maud said, lifting one hoof and holding it up to inspect. “That was nice, Fluttershy. We’ll have to do that again sometime.”
Then they buried her with hugs.
There was a funeral scheduled in Canterlot that day—had been for months. It had been such an important affair for Equestria that Celestia herself had overseen it. It was meant to be her last gift to the ponies she couldn’t help. But nopony was dead, and so the mourning had to be retasked into something else. Pinkie Pie wasn’t even upset she hadn’t been able to organize the party.
They were all there—all the ponies Dirge had meant to kill, and one griffin. Each of them looked a little weary, or more than a little hung over. Pinkie didn’t even know how Gilda and Rainbow Dash had gotten back so fast from griffon lands that they could attend. Maybe Discord had brought them.
* * *
Twilight had never seen Discord smugger. He paraded around the party to the adulation of everypony who saw him. It seemed to Twilight that the draconequus had finally found something he enjoyed at least as much as Fluttershy’s friendship. And he’d won even more of that too, for saving her awful younger brother.
Twilight herself felt barely alive, and despite the joy of the occasion she found it hard to celebrate. She had done the magical research of decades in a single year, without help. She’d worn herself to the bone, worked hard enough that her mane had started turning gray, yet her research hadn’t been enough. In the end, it was Discord who saved all their lives.
“You could have told me what you were up to,” Twilight said, when they were eating together at the high table beside Celestia, Luna, and Cadance. “If I’d known what you were looking for…” She glanced over the table, where those who lived now celebrated with their loved ones.
“What, and deprive them of this moment?” Discord gestured to his pasta, which danced through the air in front of him, taking the general shape of a pony. “That would be a crime Twilight. Imagine how happy they are now. Those ponies went out, and did everything they ever wanted in their lives. They lived. Now they’ll see every day as a gift! What few days I’ve given them, anyway. They’re still mortal.”
“Funny,” she grumbled, not eating. She hadn’t felt hungry for a long time.
“How did you do it?” Celestia asked. “Temporal inevitability spells were some of my earliest magic. I know how they work. Dirge’s curse would not have been distracted until all six of them were dead.”
Discord shrugged. As he did, his magic ripped the little noodle pony he’d made in the air in half, saucy guts spilling everywhere. “You’re a wise and intelligent ruler, Princess. I think we will both be happier if you don’t learn the answer to that.”
Celestia opened her mouth to protest, then shut it without having said anything. She looked down at the small plate of yellow cake in front of her, looking suddenly disgusted. “I see.” The other princesses did the same.
“What?” Twilight asked. “You’re all just going to let him… get away with that? After the year we had?”
“Yes,” Luna said, her voice firm. “You should as well, Twilight Sparkle. It is better that way.”
The party went well into the night. Twilight Sparkle spent time with each of the ponies who had suffered, who except for Zephyr were all extremely grateful for her efforts (even if they hadn’t amounted to anything). She was happy to learn that Discord had been right in at least one respect—several of them had used the time before their death to become better ponies. Coco had a whole company running now, Gilda had seen the world, Trixie had… well Trixie was almost as awful as ever.
But that wasn’t satisfying to her. He said he was looking for rare ingredients for a time spell, she thought. And Celestia said the magic wouldn’t stop until it killed its targets. So, what did he do?
Maybe she would’ve been better off if she’d left well enough alone. But Twilight Sparkle was a nosy Alicorn. She wouldn’t have been an Alicorn otherwise.
Twilight invited Discord for tea one afternoon about a week after the day that ponies should’ve died. He arrived looking exactly as smug as he had at the party. Perhaps moreso.
She didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “I need to know what you did,” she said, her voice low and urgent. Her castle was still an absolute mess from her research. She’d taken the time to try and heal her own body, but hadn’t finished yet. Her mane still looked uneven, and her body was still skeletal and shrunken. She had a lot of eating and sleep to catch up on.
“Oh?” Discord said. “Didn’t our dear friend Celestia suggest you shouldn’t ask about that? Don’t you trust her?”
“Trusting her is one thing,” Twilight began. “But I studied this problem for an entire year. I read the works of ponies I didn’t even know existed . There shouldn’t have been a way through this. Alicorn magic wasn’t powerful enough, time magic couldn’t do it without causing a paradox, no shield was strong enough… what did you do?”
“You don’t want to know,” Discord said again, his tone low and dangerous. “You ponies live in your pretend world of peace and friendship, ignorant of the harsh realities of existence. Just… enjoy the result! Take joy in the families that weren’t broken. Isn’t that enough?”
“For them, yes,” she said. “They don’t have to know. And… if it will make you willing to explain, then I swear not to tell either. It can just be between us. Forever.”
“Oh, I like this,” Discord said, though his expression remained grim. “A private little secret, just between you and me! I will remember this, Twilight. You don’t have any conception just what forever means, but you will.”
She grunted with annoyance. “Okay, so… what did you do?” She flicked her tail behind her, at the chalkboards packed with thousands of discarded spells. Everything in every Equestrian library on the curse Dirge had used. Each one of them told the same story: inevitability.
“Well, you’re right about the curse. Celestia was too. Dirge’s spell had already been cast. Exactly one week ago, the wave of lethal magic came through at his sanctum and flooded the world. It would travel any distance until it found and killed each of the six people he kidnapped. Nothing could stop it, or confuse it, or protect the victims.”
“Okay…” Twilight said. “So how are they still alive? Big Mac was here with Applejack only a few hours ago, and I could tell he’s still alive. He’s not undead, so you didn’t use that morbid solution.” Twilight had considered that. But of course, if she was willing to abandon all her principles and try to reanimate the corpses of her dead friends, why stop there? That had seemed too extreme a path to explore.
Discord smiled, the same sort of wicked smile she had seen from him every time he did something awful. “Oh, I didn’t. That wasn’t what you asked me to do, Twilight. You asked for my help saving your friends. That’s what I did… I saved them.”
“How ?” she asked again, a little annoyance in her voice. “You didn’t bring them back from the dead, you didn’t stop the spell from killing them. So, what happened?”
“Let me teach you a lesson about chaos,” Discord said. Everything on the table lifted into the air—the teacups, the uneaten scones. The tablecloth. “Look down, deep down…” The sugar bowl dumped its cubes into the air, which began to spin in front of her. “And everything is chaos. The rules you ponies love just don’t make sense! Every moment, there are a billion billion different chances for things to go different. Maybe the proton spins right, maybe left.” He snapped his claws, and some of the cubes started to glow, flashing irregularly. “Every time this happens…” An identical copy of their table appeared beside them, complete in every way. Except, of course, that the chairs were empty. Only, the floating remnants of the tea were in a slightly different configuration. “This happens many times, and we are unaware. Unaware that our lives are merely one of innumerable, identical copies of ourselves, divided and subdivided and duplicated until the end of time.”
“O-okay.” Twilight wasn’t sure of how true any of this was. Discord understood chaos, but it seemed more than a little hard to believe. Twilight knew of one alternate world, where Canterlot was a school and ponies were strange creatures that walked on two legs. But that was the only one she’d ever visited. “So how does that help you save our friends?”
“Easy,” Discord said. “I went searching for ingredients. I brought them to the old sanctum, so they’d be right where the curse was looking when it arrived. Cleaned up the mess afterwards, and…” He snapped his claws again. The other table vanished, and everything floating through the air abruptly fell to the ground. Cups and plates shattered, tea splashed everywhere. But Twilight didn’t care.
“You weren’t brewing a potion with those ingredients…” she muttered. “Or making a time spell.”
“Nope. No time spells involved, only space. More dimensions than you’re used to, but there’s really nothing to it. Just picture flatland, then look up. Then do it a few more times and you’re there. But that’s a lesson for another day. Besides… a potion simply wouldn’t have helped. My plan wouldn’t have worked if they weren’t alive when the curse arrived.”
Twilight now had some idea why Celestia hadn’t questioned Discord further. In his own way, he’d done exactly the same thing as Dirge. Only maybe it was worse, since he didn’t even care about the ponies he’d brought. Even now, he didn’t look the least bit upset that he’d condemned five ponies and one griffon to die.
“Y-you…” she stammered, pointing with one hoof. “You did…”
He rose to his feet, backing away from her. “You see now why Celestia didn’t ask questions? The universe is a brutal and uncaring place, Twilight Sparkle.” He pointed out the window with one claw. “It’s the responsibility of us here in ours to make it better. If it’s any consolation, I was doing humanitarian service out there. I kept searching until I found ingredients who wanted to be dead. I just… brought them somewhere they could die for a good cause.” He leaned out the window, watching as Applejack and Big Mac made their way down the road in front of the castle, carrying their empty carts after the day’s sale. “You wouldn’t want to see the places I took them from.”
Twilight almost argued with him, fury boiling in her veins. Instead, she just nodded. “I guess it’s… our secret.”
“Forever ,” Discord repeated. “I’m good for my word, Princess Twilight. I look forward to see if yours counts for anything.” He vanished in a flash, leaving Twilight feeling unhappier than she’d been moments before.
Yet as she watched Applejack pass by, giving her brother a brief reflexive hug every few minutes as they walked away, Twilight realized the pony she was most horrified with was herself.
Not that she hadn’t been able to find another cure—Celestia had prepared her for that over a year ago. It was, rather, that she wasn’t angry at Discord.
What kind of pony did that make her?
Author's Note
So this is a non-canon alternate ending to this story. One that takes things in a bit of a different direction while hopefully still sticking to the character of the bleak journey we've had so far.
