Culture shock

The slow walk down the path to the Ponyville cemetery was the longest I had ever had. It was a small group, sure, but he never liked the idea of big and flashy, preferring to keep things simple. Humble to the last. A single carriage, with a casket cloaked in the flag of his country, escorted by his friends and brothers in arms, as they seemed to call each other, nothing more. To my left, Princess Luna, who has taken the mantle of the leading diarch, looks to me briefly before resuming her solemn march forward. She is grieving her loss too, but cannot allow it to interfere with her new duties, as I cannot allow my grief to interfere with mine. The road ahead of us will be long and rough, and paved with the sacrifice of many, starting with his, and I don't want it to be in vain.

Finally, we arrive at the gravesite, adorned with nothing more than a simple marker. Dan and Aurik, dressed in the uniforms of their respective militaries, come to a halt, before beginning their own solemn ceremony dictated by the traditions passed down from their ancestors. As they bear his casket, I can't help but think of what could have been. He may not have been immortal like myself, but we would have had a life together, and that's all that he wanted. It's all that I wanted.

I couldn't bring myself to write a speech. It hurt too much. I may not have known him for very long, but he had a profound impact on me. The lessons that he taught me, not just about friendship, but about the world around me too, I will keep with me until the end of time. Lessons about doing what is right, trust, and healing the hurt done to those who deserved it the least. Lessons that I couldn't hope to be able to write into one of my storybook friendship reports.

I watch, awestruck, as Dan and Aurik fold the flag draped over his casket into a small triangle, the red and white stripes tucked within a field of blue adorned with white stars. Dan kneels before me, and with a whisper that only I could hear:

"On behalf of the President of the United States,

The Secretary of the Army,

And a grateful nation,

Please accept this folded flag in honor of your loved one's honorable and faithful service."

Presented to me, I take it in my hooves, the only remnant of him that remains. Pulling it close to my chest, I'm unable to hold back the grief any longer, and lose myself in it.

I've since returned to my castle. Wanting to be alone, I immediately go to my chambers. There, I find on the table, rolled up with my own seal, a letter. Opening it, I can't help but sit down in shock.

Twilight,

For obvious reasons, I hope that you never have to find, much less read this letter, but if you do, than hopefully it will help you find peace in my stead. The life of a warrior is oftentimes a short and violent one. We willingly stand guard in the worst of conditions, so that those that we love can live in the best. For those of us that do make it home, we will always hear the call to go back out, and help hold the line for just one more night, one more battle, for the continued assurance of the well being of those back home. And so because of this, I ask that you not grieve for too long over my sacrifice, but find joy in the peace and freedom that it bought. Someday, we will see each other again. 'When our days become dreary with low-hovering clouds of despair, and when our nights become darker than a thousand midnights, let us remember that there is a creative force in this universe, working to pull down the gigantic mountains of evil, a power that is able to make a way out of no way and transform dark yesterdays into bright tomorrows.' -Martin Luther King, Jr.

With love,

John

"And what shall we do with these two?" a quiet voice questions, wise, older than time itself.

"One of them has failed at their task. They were meant to uphold harmony on their world, and instead flaunted their power, using it to their own advantage. Had they not done so, we would not even have this problem." states a second, more stern voice.

"Should we send forth a replacement, then?"

"No, that decision has already been made. We will see how this plays out."

"And what of the other?"

"What of the other one? They're both dead. They have both served their purpose in one way or another."

"I think not. The failed one we will keep here for now. Perhaps there is redemption. But the other, I do not believe is done yet. I will send that one back, for there is still work to be done....."

I find myself standing in a field of tall grass, stretching out as far as I could see. I don't know how long I've been here, nor do I know how to get out. A constant flow of memories assaults my mind, of feelings, names, and faces, but I can never hold on to any one of them for very long before it slips away again. I feel a presence here with me, though I can't tell who they are, but I feel compelled to follow them.....

"John?! Can you hear me?" A voice, hopeful, and strained, is calling to me. I open my eyes again, where a mulberry colored blur takes up most of my vision. As my vision starts to clear, I can make out more details of the face in front of me. I look around, looking at the charcoal coloring of my coat, the wings on my back, the shield shaped icon on my leg. Clutching at my aching head, I feel a horn protruding from my forehead. Standing beside me is someone tall, dressed all in black, looking down with a smile. I can't quite seem to place where I've seen all of this before. Memories start to trickle in, and the first one I grab onto is small, a simple name.

"Twilight?"