PhilíaView OnlineCrystalline DreamsPhilíaCadance was always young in her dreams. The worlds that sprung from her slumber were shining with facets of exuberance that only lurked in the laugh lines of her face in the waking world, and the light of her eyes when she was excited. There, I saw her and how short her curls were, for they only brushed her jaw. Now, they were as I had known them: long and sweeping, without any graying strands or evidence of dyes in her mane and the sweep of her tail. Though, I had truly become very used to seeing it done up in the Crystal Headress and other Crystalline fashions over the centuries. I smiled and hummed as dream-winds caressed my face. Dreams varied across Equestria, and the more creative and wondrous, and vivid always struck some fond chord in my heart. While those never meant to be spoken of were of a far more sordid nature, I always shunned those happily for the ones that meant anything at all: wishes, hopes, adventures, and all the workings of the mind. There was so much to be known in all other dreams. Centuries of combating and unraveling nightmares since my return have given me the thrill of battle that is absent in the extended peacetime I have ruled; not that I am ungrateful for such a thing. Cadance's laugh is sometimes far too much like the lightest of songs. Her flight is a dance across the most vivid and whimsical of dream-skies, and is all that paints her dreamscape tonight. Under my hooves is naught but some variety of crystallized mist that supports me as a chilly wind teases my dark feathers. I sigh and smile, allowing myself peace in such a dream. When I first discovered and tapped into the dream-magic that earned me my second domain as a goddess, I was still new to the Equestria my sister had maintained for so long. Still quite the shadow-princess then — because then I truly held only the rank of a princess — I found it thrilling to find something beyond lucid dreams within my mind. As my body snored, the tugs of many minds would call to me like strings are pulled, and though I was constrained to my own mind then, roaming the enjoyable puzzles that were my thoughts, I learned that I could answer these calls. Sometimes, I did not have the chance to roam about my dreamscape of the evening first and ponder such a thing, but to wake up in a foreign dream. In those cases, I had to roam about — a nightly adventure awaited me — and determine what the dream was. This included the lay of it, the whereabouts of the dreamer, and the nature of the dream. Even now, I was rarely tugged into any dreams that were not created by the minds of children. Thus, my worries about walking into dreams of a more foul adult nature were often in vain. The dreams of fillies and colts across Equestria were filled with so many wonders that so many adults were barren of, and how could such a thing be anything but delightful to me? I was a mare who thrived on wonders, and my own daughter did too, in her own way. In Canterlot, my form lay sleeping; a wing draped over my husband who I knew slept next to me. In the Crystal Palace, the form of my dear friend slept alone in her bed too, sheets bunched up on the other side. I knew they would be white or blue. They always were. Cady always hugged them close, too. And here we were. Sticking my tongue out, I caught a couple of crisp snowflakes on my tongue, feeling the sudden coolness of them melting. "This is a lovely dream that your mind has produced!" I called above her laughing and the gusty, whipping winds that bit past my coat in the most refreshing way. Lavender eyes find me and Cadance smiles before careening into a snowdrift of her dreams. I wince on instinct, when I first knew Cadance she was engaged and planning her wedding. Crashing into a snowdrift in the waking world, a fool's smile upon her face, was something she could brush off then. And Shining Armor would scoop his demigod empress out of the snow... and how they had laughed! The widow I knew with a paler coat and streaks of silver in those curls, and more than a few coughs caught in her lungs and gripping those ribs of hers. Still, she rarely forgot to preen. Her eyes were still clear, except when she tried to remember all the little things that never really stuck with her any longer. Cadance's mind was not the eternal steel trap of the divine. I helped remind her of the name of her in-laws, that Blueblood had passed many years before, and 'the meanest maid she ever had' was named Gleaming Tulip and died in the 322nd year of her rule over the now independent Crystal Empire. "Luna!" Her melodic voice was cheerful. "No nightmares in Equestria tonight, eh?" I chuckled lightly. "None that require my attention." Cadance had little chance to respond further. In life, those ribs of hers were so frail now. Here she had the standard lean physique that her youth had granted her. Oh yes, Cadance certainly had the prolonged young appearance that being a demigod lent her. Now, she looked like any senior-aged mortal, with only the luck of aging gracefully enough... her forehooves were clumsy. She simply could not work the strings of her bass any longer, at least not by hoof. She had been crushed then; one of the first things that she ever told me was that she was capable of skillfully playing bass guitar without magic, which was not an ordinary feat. It was only in dreams that I could give her hugs that threatened her very anatomy. Her ribs might as well have been butter for how I impacted her, and pulled her into the merciless grip of a goddess, forever doomed to out-crush any mortal (or immortal, admittedly) that I held dear in the most ferocious of hugs. Cady was wheezing horribly, choking and gasping on dream air for dear life as she screamed unintelligible syllables between the harsh sounds. I only nuzzled her. "Happy early birthday!" ... The last echo of Cadance's hacking cough died in my ears at last. I worried a little. She was my first, only, and dearest friend. This was a dream, and in it, she could endure no harm. Silence probes thoughts of the known alternative. Were Cady and I awake, I would have wounded her. My own friend. She tells me I have always been the stronger, and I do not say otherwise. Of us, I hold a strength she does not. She is sunny and often dependable, and her laugh is as light as my sister's was, but light fades one day, always. I do not ever mourn light passing into the comfort of darkness, but Cadance is something special. She's smiling at me. "Thanks for the well-wishes and surprise, Luna." I accept her friendly nuzzle with a smile of my own. The gesture was a rare one from me, no matter how many centuries passed. Such a dear friend like Cady saw my smiles and all displays of camaraderie that the vast majority of my subjects went their entire lives without seeing, and would die never knowing. "Will there be anything planned for your fantastic 648th birthday that I shall be hearing about?" Oh, her smile was infectious! My own grin was bright and plain for her to see too. "Or will I have to wait until we can finally celebrate together?" Cadance's birthday had since become one of the Empire's most joyous holidays, alongside the ancient Crystal Faire, and a few Equestrian ones that were adopted during their time as a colony, like Family Appreciation Day and Hearts and Hooves Day. Other winter festivals had been quick to catch on in such a wintery land, being sown alongside native celebrations. Though, national holidays in Equestria like Hearth's Warming and Nightmare Night never caught on. The worst part about Cadance's birthday — Empress Day, to her Crystalline subjects — is that she can never celebrate it with the family she still has. Cadance must embark to Equestria days after her country's celebrations have wrapped up, visiting my husband and me, and Twilight Sparkle separately before her departure. We're all the family she has left, but we laugh and cry together, a family after all this time. Though, I'm not sure about what her relationship with Twilight Sparkle has been like recently, since I hardly ever encounter the Princess of Friendship unprofessionally, thank goodness. Centuries did little favor for the extended royal family. All of us had been like trees planted within a too-crowded orchard; having some of us uprooted and placed where we could breathe and speak our minds with those more like us, to have greater peace, was only inevitable. Only when we severed ourselves from one another was there any peace between us. Still, Cady held her sister-in-law as kin no matter what they disagreed on. Perhaps that was much as of late, and perhaps it was nothing at all. Personally, I wished not to go back to the time when all three of us were but saplings, growing under the shadow of Celestia's wings. Then, each of us was 'encouraged' not to crawl beyond the umbra of their shadow or to reach beyond the limit of her feathers. Our roots were all tangled, and we were better off divided and forming our own families as time went on. I certainly was; they are my respite. Cady giggled, and any pretense of wisdom — age-induced or otherwise — vanished and was replaced with timeless mirth. "A surprise sounds too tempting! I'll be sure to bring something special for your little filly, too!" In a mock act of surprise, I pulled away, gasping with my mouth in an astonished 'o' and a forehoof brought up to hide it in a sudden movement. "Nonsense! It is your birthday!" Cadance stuck out her tongue and swatted at my mane with a forehoof. "If you're gonna be that way, fine. And here I thought you were a fun mom." I punched her wither, and she squeaked slightly in her old-mare surprise while I grinned. Not even in play was a goddess' strength to be underestimated! "I am, in fact, the jolliest and most fun of mothers, my dear Cady." "With the grouchiest of husbands," she laughed, pawing at the mist with a forehoof. I plucked at a feather with my telekinesis and she yelped. "Shush! Do not speak ill of the husband-creature!" She made a very undignified snerk. "He's a creature alright." I pouted evilly in retaliation. "A fine creature!" Cadance smiled a simple content smile, and sat upon the dreamscape ground, stirring mist and sighing happily. "It's really nice here," she whispered. I need not doubt her. Such a tranquil place was more than simply nice. That word was cursed with banality and meaninglessness. Cadance had largely consistent dreams, as most ponies did, but it was always enjoyable whenever I had the chance to visit her dreams. The repetition in most mortal dreams was painfully dull. As we stood together, feather tips brushing against each other's lightly, I felt Cady bump a wither against mine. Though I was always taller than her, we were of a similar height that the gesture still worked, no matter how much I stood above the attainable height of any pony. "Close your eyes," she whispered giddily. I did, and pricked my ears for the soft sound of her movements. There was the sound of feathers, not a single hoofstep. If I strained my ears, I could nearly feel the twinkle of magic aura in my presence. Magic within one's dream was not as it seemed, nor something that most ponies could do, if at all. Few seemed to grasp that dreams were not malleable to any but I, or that they followed none of the physical requirements of the magic and world external of the dreamer. Fewer still, especially those past foalhood dream up worlds that are more than an instinctual projection of what they know when awake. Such a thing was a dreadful default coat upon their dreamscape. As a demigod, Cadance was more than aware that to alter anything of her dream, it took skill — which she had clearly been practicing — and great emotion. The dreamer shaping dreams as she was, and not I, was one of the few magics that could really depend on emotion alone. There was the soft blow of something like wind, and a fond noise of acknowledgment from Cady. "Psst, Luna," Cady's voice hisses, "You can open your eyes now." I was greeted with the sight of brilliant lights and many ghosts. Cadance had grouped mist and light into the outlines of her departed loved ones. Her horn dimmed, but there was still a peculiar glow about the vague phantoms. And yet, even with their vagueness, there were details that shined through it all. There was the outline of a slim pegasus mare I knew so easily. Skyla stood with the same coolness she had in life, her coy demeanor as intact as the tiara woven into her dark curls, and a small, pleasant hint of a smirk on her muzzle. Though a motionless apparition, the eyes of tall Skyla were as sharp as I recalled them to be. I half-expected some quick quip to come snaking out of the former Crystal Queen's mouth. A quick pang of longing to hear this mare's laugh, to see her smile, and watch the calculating look in her eyes glitter came over me. I had only eighty-six years with Somber Skies, a mare with the cold looks of the Arctic where she lived and the unwavering loyalty of her father. Though, all her frostiness did not come from them, even if her nickname did. I missed her dearly. Cady smiled so wonderfully at the sight of this creation, letting out a breath I hadn't realized she held. Few missed Skyla more than Cadance, for what mother would not long to see her deceased daughter? "Very impressive," I said levelly, voice low. Letting my gaze roam, I spotted other familiar faces: Cadance's in-laws, whose names I never knew and I never met; Crystalline friends whose faces I knew most of. There was also staff she recalled fondly, but it was only by their constructed uniforms I knew them to be such. I spied visages of further descendants, each one showing somepony who had stood by me once more recently than the last. Though not an eternal creature as I am, Cadance saw many of her daughter's foals and grandfoals rule her beloved empire, and accepted the then-retired Empress as a trusted advisor. With each one, her pegasus wings and Shining Armor's unicorn horn became mostly recessive traits. The Crystalline eyes, hardiness, and coats that began to show all more prominently on each pony in her line, with only the rare sight of wings or a horn a clear sign of intermingling bloodlines. Not everypony's image was rendered so well by the curls of mist and magic. I could plainly see that the outlines of those that must have been long-gone foalhood friends. Their features were terribly unclear; I knew only by their size that they were foals. Other more adult forms could have been anypony to her — past teachers, Canterlot acquaintances, and old sweethearts peppered the dreamscape around me, conjoined with whorls of mist and crystalline flickers of light. Cadance beamed at them. She beamed at me. And really, she should be proud of herself for this display. This did not mean that there wasn't something naive about how she eyes these dream-figments. What she saw was different from how I beheld them in that, to her, even the more misshapen were perfect in her mind's eye... or as perfect as she could make them. Her foggy memory was the same reason such faces were blurred by time. She could forget such things and ponies in ways I couldn't understand. I pitied her a bit for it, though I can't say I would ever tell her such a thing. Perhaps one day from now, when we sit together stars know where, and she sips iced coffee —still insisting that the foul liquid isn't so bad even after all my centuries of refusal — she will prod me out of some daydream and into a conversation about the alien feeling of such profound memory loss. Alien, at least, to me. Like Sykla and the rest of Cadance's bloodline, there were three other forms that could not, would not fade. I caught sight of what was meant to be an earth pony mare with the solid stature of anypony who had spent time in the military, even if her misty body was not a youthful cadet's, but one more matronly. The forehoof of this apparition was entwined with an earth pony stallion, with a build much slighter and more average than his constructed companion. These were two ponies I had met but a few times in life, but I knew Cadance's parents enough for their faces to stand out to me. The third was somepony I most certainly knew, more extended family than a friend, I had some liking for the stallion that subtly stole the show of these stilled specters of memory. With the magic of Cady, her Shiny was re-imagined as the ruling Prince of their Empire he had been in life. His face was not the youthful soldier-to-royal's I had first known him as. He appeared before me as the matured, bearded Crystalline ruler who was more than well-adjusted to his position and terribly fond of sporting events. His form was adorned with vapory hints of all the formalwear Cadance found handsome on him, and a wide smile that rarely left his muzzle. And of course, Cady simply could not look away from any of her work. Especially Shining Armor. "All of it is lovely," I told her, voice a whisper, "and you've really been looking to show me this display for how long?" Cadance shook her head slightly in a clear effort to rein in her thoughts. "Umm, a while. Definitely a while. Lucid dreaming is actually really hard on its own. This... this was nuts." I laughed, and let the light sound sweep out in this delightfully unpopulated space Cadance and I occupied. Even ghosts were no more than that in the comfort of solitude, whether it be that of dreams or in waking hours. "You pulled this off wonderfully. It is lovely to know that after all these years talking your ears off about dreams, you thought to do this." Two pink forelegs had me wrapped in an abrupt embrace, because no matter her age, Cady's exuberance was so clear to those close to her. "Thank you!" she chirped, pulling away to stare at me with those light eyes of hers and a bright smile, one that shone like the wispy images of her dearly departed loved ones. One hoof now ran through her candy-colored curls in a gesture of awkwardness, but clearly relished in her restored old style as well. "Your efforts in magic, and all the dreamscapes of mine you've shown me and guided me through... after a while, it's more than a bit inspiring, yah? I'm no dream goddess, but just tapping into things a little of what I could do..." The same forehoof waves around a curl, batting it, and teasing it as she rambles — and how aware of it she is, for I can't help but laugh softly. "And you did quite well! You truly ought to be proud." I light my horn, and turquoise aura steadily flows forth. However, spiraling the grooves of my horn were threads of bright, gorgeous white — my dream magic. Ghosts fell away, dispersing into a mist that mingled back to what it was. That certainly was not like any true ghost, for no spirit of the dead that I had ever known was like these mere figments. Light lingered on my horn, even after they had gone. I stepped toward Cadance and clapped a lean foreleg of my own around her withers, under her curls. My smile was not commonly seen by any outside the family I had carefully grown over the years. All others were usually faced with cooler expressions, but never Cadance. She saw a congratulatory smile spread across my muzzle. "Consider your efforts approved by the only mare in the world capable of dream magics when I say that you have done good, aye?" Before she could reply, I pulled her into my strong grip and ruffled her curls with my free forehoof, hearing her make a startled whinny. "But, no matter your pegasus heritage, I still do not think you can out-fly me! Come, be challenged! Let us not squander such a fine dream!" Author's Note This one might be a bit of a feel trip. Future Luna is fun to write. Keeping details kinda brief had a neat air of mystery to it, and was kinda fun, but it mostly helps set up standalone stuff like this. ~~And there will be more Skyla when I can get~~ Enemy of Mine ~~to update again, and that story line rolling once more.~~ Words, words, words, basically. This one has four parts, and this one was released far earlier than expected because of a friend's birthday! I didn't have time to write anything new, but he likes Luna and Cady! Go check out his stuff, also. Philía is one of the four Greek words for love, and describes the love between friends. [Revised for print on 11/29/2020]
StrogeView OnlineCrystalline DreamsStrogeThe ability to fly is a curious thing, and like the great magic I have, I can only imagine what life without it would be like. They are curious thoughts to entertain, and I sometimes let myself get carried away with them, thinking about what it would be like to not have divine flight magic and powers. Though it may be no more than an occasional bout of whimsy, I like something in all my daydreams, for I am prone to many. They always stay there, for I am more than content with my own, differing nature. Envisioning the numbness to the world mortal senses and capabilities can bestow is dull after enough time. Tonight, I had no such meditations. Of all the dreams in the world that called to me from the mysterious astral plane, I was here, and I was laughing. At this moment, I only had to fly! My mane billowed behind me and my ears were filled with the whoosh of air, and the familiar whip of wind flowing through my feathers. Neither rough nor gentle, it streamed past my face as I soared, coldly caressing my cheek. To think that I had been able to resist the thrill of a race with my friend, and the tug of the winds that inspired such a powerful urge, threading their way through everything they could. Even my flight magic, which was starting to manifest properly, was showing. When my flight was sure and strong, and my power given greater reign, my nature was plainer to see to all who looked upon me. About my feather tips and spreading outward towards the purple highlights of my mane were the sure signs: brilliant sparks of white had begun to crackle to life. While bursting and bright, they were harmless to me, though they were lightening-bright. Among the waking world, this was a spectacular sight for any mortal see, regardless of the constant natural displays of my power I made every single day. Here, it was no less beautiful, but it appeared more like the contents of this dream: starry lights floating far above, the dark whorls of the colored void we found ourselves in, and mists and winds that tugged at us with an exciting chill. How I melded with this environment, and still managed to stick out reminded me of the ponies who thought they had control over their dreams. There were those who wandered them, of course, and those who influenced them all the same. None of them could weave and master them so much as be at peace with them like I could, or be in harmony with the worlds their slumber opened. No other creature, mortal otherwise, could walk dreams, know them, and rule them like I. For that, I felt nothing but grateful and delighted. When I found such ponies who thought they could 'beat' their dreams — yes, it was put that childishly and nothing more — I wished to laugh. It was no different than trying to run from one's reflection in a maze of mirrors. And laugh I did! Though, often for different reasons. Cadance's dream agility allowed her to do wild spirals of flight that I had not seen from her in some time. She hollered joyously, lavender feather tips caressing swirls of mist while she flew freely a few pony-lengths behind me. It certainly appeared that I would be victorious! ...Until that musical voice erupted into wild cheers behind me and a pastel blur came careening overhead, bringing the sound of feathers and chaos flying upon the dream-winds. She fell, purposefully, in a plummet. Far, far below from where we took off. To most, this place would be a monotonous and alien sight, but all was plain to me. This dreamscape had many of the hues of midnight and the chilly colors of the great Arctic skies, every one of them vivid and reaching across this expanse. I dived downward with more prowess, feathers carving the air with my own swoops and the swiftness that stunned many and fueled the rush of the activity. That rush, the great adrenaline this brought, was more magic to be than my crackling white that danced along my feather tips, than the sheer glow that overcame my vision, the delicate pale spiral of ghostly aura that flashed to life upon my horn from freed excitement alone, and how my dark mane had shifted to a beautiful pure white. My body emanated a pulse of fair and powerful light. This made my whole form cheery and pale, and behind me, the white-blue lightning speed trail I called my own was free. Hope was light in my chest; I was happy, so very happy, that Cady and I could enjoy ourselves so. I was a sight, and my display greater than her more spastic one. She was still sprawled upon the ground, but squinting up at me, one forehoof used to protect her eyes from my cold, dazzling light... ...and I plowed into the intangible ground of the dream. My wings were spread wide and flinging sparks as I slid past her, as an arrow does fly past an obstacle. All of my mane whipped behind me, and I just screamed in wild delight because I could. I had to canter back to the spot where I left Cady, my overall display of ultimate divinity dimmed, yet my blood still burned for more, and my mind still buzzed with the lingering excitement that was not to vanish soon. Artful recklessness was a wonder and pleasure to me no matter the era. Playfulness was not something I could outgrow. And my smile, bright and oh-so-earnest, was still upon my face. Murky white aura climbed up the spiral of my horn at my will, and I skillfully mended any minor tears and disruptions I had caused to Cady's dreamscape, flashing an honest, if awkward, smile when needed, not that she would be mad with me. When I had finished, I trotted up to her, for she still sat. Alone. Her curls were in disarray, and she looked at me with the quiet sparkle in her eyes that I knew to be the little bit of foal-like wonder that crept out when she saw my magic at work. I smiled. "After all these years, are you still so surprised by my magic?" Head tilted at me, she gives a lopsided nod. "Yeah," she mumbles, giving a faint chuckle that betrays her experience. "Always," she adds with clarity. I extend a hoof to her, to help her up. As a sister would. Author's Note Stroge is another Greek word referring to love, describing the love between family members. Also, I've added the sad tag. Shit's gonna get sad, in case it wasn't obvious. [Revised for print on 11/29/2020]
AgápēView OnlineCrystalline DreamsAgápē"Do you think that anypony could love somepony forever?" My question must have surprised Cadance, because I hear her muffle what sounds like a chirp of confusion in her throat. "Mhm? Whaddya mean?" Ah, how to phrase this for her? She may be both friend and family to me, but there were always things that we never got about one another, and misunderstandings could still pepper our interactions. The two of us lie on the strange 'ground' of this world borne from sleep. We stare up at twirling wisps of light and mist exactly like the ones that were below us, beneath an invisible barrier we could not slip past or probe. It merely was. How curious a thing, and yet my question plagues me more. "I speak of romantic love," I clarified, and with Cadance, it was something I spoke of often. "Might two creatures be in love forever? My kind often are, and are prone to great monogamy and relationships that stretch from their start through eternity. That is what I have learned from Alicorns older than I." Over the centuries, this baffled ponies as to why. I am asexual, and to the inevitable fools that are sown with every generation, there are always some who I must find standing in my shadow, as ignorant and ridiculous as ever. These are the fools that are puzzled as to why somepony 'like me' would frequently ponder the subject. There are an even more select few that have had the audacity to ask such a thing with my beloved present, and those are ponies that I despise, and remove from my company as a used napkin is discarded without care. I never have to think about them again. They only occur like blinks. Every so often I shall find such an idiotic question posed an even more idiotic pony, one that unfortunately is my subject, and yet was unable to be impacted by living in the nation. Here in Equestria, we have the greatest means to educate its subjects. But like blinks, they were brief, and I was always glad. "Mhm?" she prompts again. "After Shining Armor died..." I paused, hesitating for a second as my word choice struck me. Cady knew I was an honest mare, but sometimes confusion overcame in times like this, when death was to be acknowledged and brought up again. Celestia always wasted words, throwing out 'passed away' and 'departed' among countless other euphemisms. Those condescending little barbs only made me wish I could kick myself, so that I might be spared them. "...You have never seen anypony else the way you saw Shining." You grieved. You accepted. Your happiness returned, and you lived again, though you did not love again. "I just... didn't feel anything for anypony else. I tried, Luna. Gods, you know I did... and nothing else ever replaced Shiny." She sighed, and there was a weight to the sound, a fond nostalgia that slipped into her voice and her eyes around ponies who would soon find themselves told the tale of an empress and her prince. "I miss him," she whispered. "Me too," I added quietly, and that was something I could say about few ponies. "What happened with me..." she hesitated, no doubt because of the vivid memories that bubbled to the surface, immortalized and important to her with all their old emotions. Though, I imagined she was hunting for the best words, too. Why, on more than one occasion she called my skill enviable in that regard. "Is rather uncommon?" I suggested. "Yes! I used to get letters from ponies who lost a long-time spouse... and they just had the deepest possible devastation all wound up in everything else. Some never felt for anypony else enough to try for another relationship. Others attempted it but never got anywhere. The grief can pass, but those ponies, they never sought another. I never thought I would be one of those ponies. Even with Shiny's death, I don't feel like I am really parted for him. We're just at an intermission. I just kept thinking..." "Kept thinking what?" I asked softly. "I kept thinking I would just... find the right pony. Again. I know I'm not, like, eternal. Not like you... but I still have lived longer than any normal pony... and it never happened. I'm not even sad about it. I thought that was so... peculiar. There was so much opportunity, and I just convinced myself I was wasting so many chances, or maybe I was too picky... and it wasn't that. I just have never loved anypony again. The feelings of romance are all gone... and I'm not upset. Those others I tried with weren't. I'm one of those ponies... and we're not upset. All the feelings of romance in my life are a closed book that just ended so, so long ago. Sure, I guess I can reread it whenever I want. That doesn't stop me from knowing where it ends, and that it does." "Well... is that not wonderful for you? You do not feel bad, as you have just assured me." "Kind of. Though..." I tried to bite my lip gently to avoid smirking or giggling when I hear the mischievous edge creeping into her tone, mingling with the earnestness still in her voice. And then, with a resounding bwap, bwap, bwap a pink foreleg is brought down. Cadance is playfully jabbing at my stomach and I flail about, defeated and giggling. "...Though, maybe if either of us had ever been remotely polyamorous and I had ever been, well, a lot less, uh, straight things would have been different! You and your hubby are the sorts all the poly ponies I knew would have could have fallen in love with." She laughed too, but I still thought I heard a hint of melancholy in it. "Things would have been really different," she mumbled, but not unhappily. I offered a noncommittal hum in response, sneaking one of my own forelegs over to jab at her side to see how she likes it. As I attack her with a barrage of pokes and jabs, my vengeance overcomes her ability to fight back, and she loses her ability to form coherent surrenders with her laughs. The space between use becomes a proper no mare's land, but that is mostly because it stretches across a true void. It stopped, after a time, and there was a short stretch of silence between us when our laughter had faded. I prompted her once again. "...Do you have a proper answer? I understand that many ponies do have only one love, but what about a love that is not lost? Do you feel any match could be made for anything near eternity? Oh, I suppose eternity is a touch of a stretch, but just for ages and ages to come?" Mortals are positively ignorant when they think they can say 'all things come to an end' and other trite lies. This is especially true when it is said to the face of an eternal being like myself, one who deals with every possible facet of 'forever' in every second of existence. To wish water to be dry would make more sense. Thankfully, that particular folksy falsehood is largely dead. Those who resurrect it and think it wise are both bothersome and dense. Cady has been one of the wondrous exceptions, who can be found only from distant era to era, so that they might be savored. Her company is far more like that of a treasured family for it. So unusually wise in matters of the heart for the longest time. Her insight into romance has always been apparent. Even when I felt nothing for anypony, she could manage to make love sound so rich and varied and real. When I did not believe it was true, I still had some faith in her. Though it was many centuries ago that I doubted 'love' as anything more than creatures in lust trying to justify themselves. If there was anypony who I could entrust with general matters of the heart, it would always be her. "Yes, yes, I do have one." She gave a thin, muffled laugh. "Has this been troubling you so much you couldn't wait another time to ask about it?" "Perhaps," I mumbled, testing the word. It lacked my usual confidence, but I felt it... fitting. "I find it permeates my thoughts more than I expected. I knew not when I would let it slip to you. Sometimes, it lingers and I cannot shake it... yet, I'm not sure I want it. So it lurks within my musings... and sometimes, I find myself thinking on it longer than usual. Was it ever like that with you? Do you know these thoughts?" "I do," Cady replied quietly, breathing the words out in a heave. "Just... from a different point of view than you're used to having." Silence passed between us, and I heard Cady shift a little. I'm not positive it was one of total understanding, but something was there. For some time, we let it carry on. Cadance eventually broke it, and I did expect her to. She does not have my patience or appreciation for it, though the mare has grown rather contemplative with age... and with loss. "Luna?" "Yes?" "I think it could work, a relationship like that. Most do, if you can work, commit, understand, forgive, and be honest. Even in the face of ridicule, taunts, separation, difficulty, and time... there's still a chance. I wouldn't call it 'happily forever after' and I wouldn't call it a curse, a bad union... or whatever you want. Being that used to somepony and that trusted by somepony could be wonderful, if you grow together like that and feel..." Her voice grew quiet and shaky, trailing off at the last few words. My chest felt heavy. I knew why. Most ponies didn't know how to 'handle' Cady when she was like this. Once they were out of earshot of her, that is exactly how they would phrase it. Unlike me, she has always had rather high faith in ponies, and for that, I have pitied her. Though it has been lowered by the years, I could never hold back empathy for her, knowing that she could be treated so in the whispers and sycophantry. Such annoying behaviors were always clear in some fraction of the population. How my sister ever saw the latter trait as a boon, I know not. I would say it is like a pebble in one's boot. Even after time on the road, one pebble is still bothersome. Any more and it becomes understandably unbearable. She is truly a happy mare, and is excitable and social. She chats up her crystal pony subjects more than the Empire's current ruler, Queen Amora, one of Cady's own direct kin. Her husband and prince-consort, Trilliant Topaz could be counted in as well. Yet, I do not think the both of them combined talk nearly as much to ponies as the 'Beloved Crystal Empress Mi Amora Cadenza, Mother of the Royal House of Snjórinn'. The crystal ponies do have more extravagant titles than that for her. So few ponies know anything of sorrow until it creeps upon them, often sprung from a loss of the irreplaceable. I know it, and I see it exposed, and I work with those locked in more beyond grief. I have lived over four thousand years, and still, one of the cruelest things I have both seen and experienced in that time the treatment of those who are sad, and those who hurt. There are precious few who will ever share sadness, and fewer who can understand it, but those that do are worth more than the Elements of Harmony to me. Perhaps that comparison means little on the surface. The Elements are unusable, and have been for some time, not merely because they sit still in the Tree of Harmony. Twilight Sparkle's map calls no more Bearers, and she is the last of them still alive. It was not what had initially sprung to mind: I had been thinking of how it was the power of the Elements that had saved me from a corrupted eternity no other force could free me from, reuniting me with my sister and the world I never thought I would see again. Even if I could, I certainly hadn't thought I would do so as myself. Reaching out, I extended a hoof toward her. Mine did not quite touch her, but I grazed a lock of her mane and was surprised to note that it did not feel quite like I recalled her curls to do. She had a vivid imagination, and a remarkably above-average recollection that was expected to coincide with being a demigod, but the feeling was... off. I knew what her curls of old had felt like as easily as I knew my daughter's name. Feeling that Cadance's own mind had not quite captured the feeling I knew to be true held something haunting, if not unpleasant. "Were Shining still among us, I do not imagine you two would be apart. You say such a bond is highly unlikely, not impossible, is that not so?" "That's right," came Cadance's hushed voice, "I like to think he and I could have still been together, even if something about us was different. You just... Luna, when you're like me, you cannot help but wonder what those things could be like. The what-ifs get stuck in your head. You start to think that maybe you had gone through a door to the right and not the left, you know? Even if the door is impossible. I still think things might work out for you. Maybe not. Maybe forever... and maybe not quite that long, but long enough. Didn't you say that the Alicorns of old usually mate for life, anyway?" "Yes," I murmur. Part of the reason these thoughts could creep upon me was that it was natural for my kind to settle down with another, eventually, the one with whom they would try to share eternity with, in whatever way they could manage it. I make no exaggeration when I say that everlasting creatures will often hold love eternal. Though, the 'other' in question for this was almost always another Alicorn in those ancient times. There were many differences between then and now, not that such a tradition is any less admirable. In fact, it was still an understandable expectation, when xenophilia was only more accepted, not necessarily more common. To prefer one's own species was expected when that was a proven natural inclination. I think I hear her move, and give something like a shrug. "...I think I understand." And I do, because I have seen Cadance, who still celebrates her husband's birthday, anniversary, and who still visits where he is buried. Sometimes, I have gone with her. She does not talk to a wall when she talks to me, and there is a look in her eyes, and her whole entirety when she is saddened that is raw, vulnerable, and uniquely her. Time creeps on, I know not what hour of the night it is, or the movements of time within this dreamscape, only that a somberness has stolen our laughter. Our own quiet reflection rules our present, yet I do not find it unwelcome. Cadance does not appear in need of consoling, just companionship. We've moved, and together we sit upon the invisible plain of dreams, our manes buffeted by the wind. Each of us has folded our wings neatly. Cadance looks a little glum, but not overly so. Her head is ducked slightly, and she toys with her curls. I silently watch the way the wind swirls the starry lights up above us, and how their gusts toss them about with an enchanting sort of strength. There is quiet awe in such observations. Content, though not feeling so high-spirited any more, I let the chill of wind ripple through my coat and tease my feathers. It is still a feeling that inspires energy. For a time, we share this tranquility... until the alarming moment when all the dreamscape fell away before I even had the chance to call her name. Author's Note [Revised for print on 11/29/2020]
Érōs ReduxView OnlineCrystalline DreamsÉrōs ReduxDarkness swarmed all my senses, when I felt that they were there at all. My own senses were robbed from me at intervals, and I felt as though my very solid presence, and my whole ebbing was snatched away. It hurt, as well. This was not blowing out a candle only to re-light it, or simply scooping me from Cadance's dreamscape. I had been robbed from it, and I from me. In an instant, all had vanished, and was sundered. I only felt sore and frightened, wanting to curl up or to heal myself. I could not breathe, I could not see, and I knew not that I was there... only that I was still there, just stuck. Being plunged into non-being was painful, and it did not come with the feeling of dissolution or any gradual disappearance. I was just ripped away. There were no more firefly lights and shades of blue. Cold winds did not beckon me to flight any longer. It just wasn't cold, and it wasn't very warm either. It wasn't. All I knew was my awareness when the world was violently shut off, and Cadance had just vanished. In the darkness, I thought I heard something. A voice, maybe. And it called my name, or rather, it screamed it in confusion... and fear. The voice was a mare's, if it was there at all. I felt something like sickness, mentally still reeling at how abrupt this was and what could possibly be happening, and why and— Then, the world resumed. ... I stood on shaking legs as the world swam back into vision. My stomach found my body again. I wish to say that I heaved out a breath, but that would still give me some odd elegance in what I did. And what did I do? I took in the air as though there would be no more ever again. Yet, I tried this at the same time I was feeling my sides crushed horribly by knowing myself again. That left me trying to cough up something that was not within me. I made quite the horrific sound, and felt every gruesome movement of it. With my proper state returned to me — though, I was returned no less forcibly than I was taken — I was overcome with dizziness. And then I realized that Cadance must be going through worse. Cadance. Her name lanced my thoughts with an iciness that swept through this awfulness. I unfurled my wings, and found them to be a blessed sight in this time. I stretched my legs with as much haste as I could afford, and flexed my wings. I was lucky to have no injuries, but to rush into flight in my state could 'fix' that. Energy borne from fear was quick to warm my blood. My head, however, was light and aching all at once while I tried to collect all that had happened. What had that been? And why might it have happened? Such questions rippled into my thoughts as quickly as my mane flowed. I took to the dreamscape with bold, swift movements, and my flight surer than I expected. Currently, my mind wandered for solutions, and my eyes roamed for Cadance. Dreams did not disable themselves. Like improper spells, they could be interrupted and fizzled, but to be more than crudely cut off like that? I knew of no such thing, and now that the world had returned to me, I found it was not nearly as brilliant as before. When a dreamer wakes abruptly, this does not happen. And that is what I might have guessed this to be, had there been the correct outcome. A quick waking was like popping a bubble. This was not unnatural, nor an intrusion, merely unknown to me. I knew that much, and I was still burning with worry. But below me, I found Cadance standing alone among the fog of her sleep all alone. ... I was quick to join her, and landed fast. I was still tucking my wings to my sides when I spoke to her. "Are you well?" I asked, taking in the sight of her rapidly. She breathed audibly, but did not struggle to do so. Her eyes were wide and ghostly, and she was eerily lucid. Cadance nodded with slow motions that I would have called puppetted if I had not known she was free, for that was how it looked. She had remained poised quite vigilantly, though I noted a slight sway to her whole body, causing her curls to tremble just so. "'m fine, Luna." She swallows like she is parched. "Whawasat?" I bit into my lip, feeling worry fester in my stomach. "Dizzy?" I asked her softly. She nodded, and to my relief looked much better. "Oh yah, yah. So... what weird sleepy time stuff wassat?" Her speech is still a touch slurred... "I do not know, Cady. Why don't you sit down for a spell and rest?" Cady frowned with all the maturity of a little filly refused her favorite sweets. "I'm not that old." "I recall having no gray hairs in my mane and you have plenty." Cadance was quick to laugh again, and sat with ease. She had folded her wings neatly, and hummed pleasantly as she arranged herself, until the moment she simply didn't. That was when the haze of confusion was apparent in her eyes, and she tilted her head far, far back to look at something. Her mouth was open to speak, something she never did, and nothing was clearer to me than other than how dumbfounded she looked. I follow her gesture and tilt my head back gracefully, letting my mane spill with my movements. And my heart drops. "Is that dangerous?" Cadance asks delicately, and yet far too calmly for my liking. Each word of hers urges that nasty cold feeling that has burst into being in my stomach to grip it tightly, and to make all the winds of this place unwelcome. Above us is a dark gap that mingles with the other colors of Cady's dream realm. It blurs the beautiful blues and feeds into the rich hues at a painfully slow pace, and it does appear to stop at times. This thing does not see my wide-eyed stare, and it still tarried. Were it alive I would think that it was unsure of how it desired to act, and what next to claim. The growing void slowly going to consume Cadance's dream. Horrified, I looked back to Cadance, my expression clear with my new understanding of the situation. "Cadance," I whispered fearfully, "this is extremely dangerous—" "Why?" she cut in, toying with her curls in confusion. "What's happening?" "I..." My voice falters with the sudden tightness of my throat and I know tears I could feel in the corner of my eyes. "I think you just had a stroke." Cadance cocks her head to the side so that she can more easily look at the advancing darkness again, and how still everything near it seemed. "Luna—" "Don't tell me that this time is different!" I snapped at her, feeling a few tears fall down my muzzle. My voice is hoarse with emotion and my whole body is shaking with every word, while my mane ripples with agitation. "That never made it any easier, for everypony back in Canterlot to know that you were in the hospital—" Hospital. Cadance isn't in the hospital this time. She is asleep. In her bed. All alone. "Cadance..." Her name slips from my parched throat involuntarily, and I cannot hide how desperate I sound. "Cadance, you lie asleep and there is nopony—" I take an uneasy breath and worry finally shows on Cadance's face. "I can wake up right now. You will not go unaided if I teleport quickly enough, or send a message to your staff—" "Luna," Cadance says firmly, using her magic to clamp my muzzle shut. "Luna, I love you, but please..." Cadance swallows. She had said 'please' with an almost unbearable fragility and has a terrible calm to her that upsets my stomach. "Maybe we're overestimating this," she says, and I find those words so foolish that if my muzzle were not held shut I would protest them quickly. "Are you even sure that I had a stroke?" With her magic still around my muzzle and keeping my jaw in place, I can only shake my head with uncertainty and look at Cady with tear stains on my face. I do want to use my power and overwhelm her. I want to shake her off and tackle her to the ground. I never regretted teaching Cadance the few dream manipulations she would be able to manage, but if this is where it leads... then maybe I do. "What does it mean, then?" Cadance asked, her voice delicate and quiet. "I fear that if this were some abrasion of the flesh you would be mortally wounded." I could not swallow easily after I said those words. Cadance watched me choke with damp eyes and an almost motherly look, one I never had directed at me before. Cadance had often run to me for such things. Rarely was it ever like this. Oh, even this dream felt like it was smothering me. Soon, Cadance had one of my forehooves gripped in hers. "Luna, is that spot... an injury?" "I-I... Cady, I did say mor..." Confound my words, for they felt stuck in my shaking body and sticking in my throat when I wanted them free. "Mortally wounded," I managed, and despite all difficulty, the words were still ominous. One gentle forehoof came to rest on my wither. "And this might be different if I woke up?" I nod solemnly and try to focus on the sound of my heartbeat in my ears. Tracing my tongue on the roof of my mouth is not helping me figure out what to say next, though I wish it would. There is still a horrible, constricted feeling in my throat. "Luna, what would happen to you if I didn't wake up?" "I would rouse," I manage, my voice still hoarse with emotion, "and you would be gone." Cadance looks at me with a careful, sad look that I have never seen on her before. My stomach feels like it has caved in on itself, for I quickly discern what it means. "Cady, you aren't—" She moves down to hold one of my forehooves in hers again. "Luna," she says my name with a weight that is supposed to steady me and pull all my emotions in check, "what have I told you about love?" "So much," I blurt, letting the words spill from my mouth and my heartbeat continue to assault my ears. "So much," I whisper again because my throat feels like it might swell shut. I can feel new tears swimming in my eyes, but I do not want to blink. My own voice sounds much too close to me, and with assurance, that I did not know was in my tone. That made me think I wanted to catch something with my words, and yet I do not think I did. "What are some of the things I've told you?" I think she might be asking me because she does not recall all her centuries of truths herself, though she has authored numerous things on matters of the heart and relationships. I allow myself to skim through my memories like a reader in a hurry. Through the haze of tears, I find a few familiar ones that I manage to croak back to her, and watch Cadance nod with the seriousness of an Empress to each one. "Love can take time," I tell her, and grip her hoof tighter as I watch the first of her metronome-like nods. "Love always has reasons," I say, but what should have been one of the most confident and true things to come out of my mouth tonight is soft and awkward instead, "and it is not always right or wise. Love is not all sacrifices, for anything built on sacrifices cannot be sustained. Love must sustain and be kindled actively. Love is only for those who are willing to love in return. Love is not to spent, for to spend oneself and one's whole life on another is to waste it. Love is priceless. Love may be warmed more with pride than dimming itself." Cadance winces faintly, and I know she must be recalling some failed endeavor. Perhaps one of the nastier divorces she had to oversee, or how she had to create and uphold many laws over the years. She had to be absolute in ensuring her Empire powered by love did not have its power source upset or its citizens endangered because of the fickleness of some. That meant the harshest punishments were for perversions, abuses, and deeds that bred distrust or degeneracy. It was in my travels to the Empire over the years that I would watch things abhorred with a strength that wasn't present with such an intensity anywhere else, and it was fascinating. But Cadance was still so mortal, and my heart was breaking over this. She has always been happy, yet rulership thrust her into seeing the inevitable terrible sides to mortals too. We who wear a crown all have, and few are so foolish to ever insist ponies are good little creatures. Such a thing would be unwise. But Cadance still loves them, and perhaps a bit too sensitively at times. I think she acquired some of that folly from my sister, for Tia always favored the illusion of idealism over truth. When I want so badly to search my mind for more of her words, for they were always beyond mere platitudes. Much to my panic, I found nothing. Nothing. I felt even more ill at the thought. "You have a chance to love like immortals do, silly." Silly. This doesn't feel silly. In a gesture of unintended carelessness, I squeezed her hoof far too tightly and Cadance yelped. The sound is enough to make me start sobbing again. Even when Cadance guides me into a hug, I hurt all over. My chest, my throat, and my legs, which are shaking, are all bearing this and it is a terrible mist in my thoughts. I just want to hold Cadance in the waking world. No matter how desperately I hold her here it is not enough. "Luna," she says all-too-calmly, "I don't think I want to wake up." Why did she have to say that in a mother's gentle whisper? I shove her away and look at her sharply. "Do you really want this?" I ask her, keeping no cold intensity from my voice. "Cadance, how could you be sure?" "Please," Cadance says kindly, a soft, faintly pleading look in her eyes, "I want this. You have offered to take all the respectful measures to help me, and I am telling you now to let me go." I may have done everything within my power and the boundary of ethics to help Cadance, but I still cannot refrain from asking her: "Why...?" "If this is the end, I don't mind." Only her eyes betray her; there is a foal-like timidity that her sure words do not have. I feel cold. The thought of not seeing Cadance again is so obvious a wound. I will see her legacy for ages and ages to come, and I know it will be a virtuous one. This mare who stands before me appearing near-luminescent and youthful is mortal — and she is old, tired, and happy. She loves music. She loves song. She is funny and chipper. She used to snort when she laughed. Even after her daughter was born, she still found delight in slumber parties. She used to sneakily read beauty tip sections in magazines even as an Empress. She loved almost everypony. Cadance has been the most vehement critic of young adult novels I have ever known, and listens to all the stories I have ever shared with her. She cannot fathom Tribal Era divisions, and she has quietly listened to my corrections of her innocent misconceptions. Cadance has learned the hard way about the difficulties of styling Alicorn manes. She has called me a friend, family, cousin, aunt, and more. I had my first ketchup chips with her, my first modern sleepover, my first attempt at 'mare-talk', and she has supported me endlessly as a friend. From introducing me to my future husband, being supportive in all she can, to being the officiant at my wedding, and later, my trusted foalsitter for my own daughter. We have shared more laughter than tears, and she has nudged me through insecurities to the best of her ability. None of this robs this encounter from the flood of bittersweet feelings that absolutely overwhelm me. My emotions run high and brew like a tempest, while my tears well up again, falling down my muzzle in warm, salty rivulets. "Aww, Luna," Cadance sniffles, "Please don't cry again, or I will too." She is already on the verge of tears herself, and I watch the mare who I saw grow from a clumsy princess in the shadow of the sun to an esteemed empress shed a few tears alongside me. "You really want this?" I ask her when my weeping has lessened. "I want to see Shining again," Cadance says softly, her tail swishing in anticipation. I watch her sigh and look toward the darkness with a wistful readiness. Eventually, I looked back with her, and looked quietly on. The unnatural winds of this place had returned, and blew both our manes toward such hungry shadows. With careful steps, I made my way toward Cady and nuzzled her cheek. "Shall this be all before you go, then?" Cadance whips her head back to me, her curls flying with the movement and settling around her in disarray. Her wings fidget with clear unease, and she looks at me, and I can't help but be astonished by how crestfallen she looks. "You're letting me go?" Her voice is so fragile that I think I can nearly hear the fissures in it, and every hint of insecure imperfection. "Is there really anything else that can be done now?" She swallows delicately, and now I know that she is aware that my heart is breaking. "Luna? You know I love ya, right? And I'm going to miss you, my 'uncle', my cousin, and everypony..." She shakes her head, startled by her own thoughts, for her eyes widen. "Tell Twily I love her, too—" I bite my lip and take a moment to listen to my heart's hammering before flinging my forelegs around Cadance's neck. She coughs loudly and whinnies in surprise, and I squeeze the poor mare's neck tighter. For a mare as talkative as Cady, she has little in the way of words to offer me now. And I accept that. Through another round of tears, I do tell her farewells and the things she has meant to me. Every other syllable is largely muffled by her coat. I feel my whole body tremble with every reminder that she has been a friend, a matchmaker, and a true companion for me. Without dear Cady, the world will have one less individual in a sea of ponies. An irreplaceable light would be extinguished, and one less vivid, exciting being would be found, for I knew Cady was one who I would never find another like. As much of a blessing as immortality is, encountering these wonderful individuals and losing them was deeply wounding and rewarding. To pull a unique treasure from an identical school of fish every now and then was always something I could savor. I felt as much of her pink, pink coat as I could, and heard myself mumble into that coat again. My voice was muffled, but we both heard the end of it: "'bye." Cadance's warmth was brief. She was careful about how she slipped from my embrace. I did not feel the heat of her tear-dampened cheek any longer. Any minor chidings for missing such a detail were drowned in the rush of emotions I had been feeling. I did not have to look far. Cadance stood waiting at the edge of her last dream. Death was in the distance, dark and calm, and Cadance was a blot of light with a windswept mane where even the light died quietly. I perked my ears forwards because I heard her singing. Her voice was clear, and I heard it catch on a few words as one would stumble with their hooves, but she sang on. I saw her take one step closer to the shadows. And then, I watched all the rest that came after, refusing to blink away my silent tears even when I saw her no more. I waited until there was little color left in this place, save for me. I glided alone when there was nothing left to stand upon. I knew I was alone when her song stopped. Author's Note Some fun future Iceverse stuff I've been working on for a while. I've always loved getting to play with glimpses of the future shown in Arc Two without outright showing anything - like just saying Luna has a family now, rather than who they are. I do, however, always love a chance to write the mom horses being friends (because I love basically every character relationship Cadance has) and Luna's dream magic. Luna's POV and character voice is always too good for me to pass up though, I swear I could write her and Sombra forever. Getting to work with character deaths like this has had some interesting things about it too. I like working with characters that are everlasting and what that means just as much as I like getting to write explorations of what the mortals characters mortality means to them, because death - and the immortal versions of it I've written - mean drastically different things to not just mortal characters and immortal ones, but from character to character. Rarely do I see stories on FimFiction that explore it as a natural occurrence either. Too many times there's cheap immortality angst (as opposed to some of the more well-written stories about immortal grief, melancholy, tragedy, and more) written by people who don't really seem to understand how it can impact the characters and the concept itself, or the reverse where every member of the main cast (and others like Starlight, Sunset, and more) have to be immortal according to the author. I'unno. It's also been pretty obvious to my long-time readers that Cadance was going to die eventually. She is long-lived, certainly, but neither immortal or a goddess. She's not really undead, either, which meant she too would pass over the course of story arcs. I just wanted to write her death, and give her a fitting end. Some of my stories to date, namely Eros and Remember When have dealt with those around Cadance feeling great loss. The former with Shining Armor pondering mortality and being quite elderly himself, and in the latter, Twilight acknowledges the death of Cadance in passing. There was always meant to be more to Cadance's death than what Twilight mentions in Remember - after all, that would be all she knows. Anyway, thanks for reading. Ice [Revised for print on 11/30/2020]
