Dear Princess Celestia,
Leaving is a hard thing to do. It’s a form of ending, and no one likes endings. No matter how happy a farewell, or how good an ending, the result is the same: a sense of emptiness. That emptiness has stuck with me over the years. I’ve had to say so many farewells, write so many endings to the chapters of my life. The scant centuries I’ve lived are nothing to the millennia you have – how can you possibly bear it?
I… I have to leave now. Leave like my friends left me over the years. I can hardly bear the thought of leaving you, but I know I have to, just as I know I could never leave if I said goodbye in person. That’s why I’m writing this letter.
“Who? Who?” an owl hooted, his lonely cry echoing through the forest. Twilight Sparkle ignored the owl’s question, continuing through the underbrush. “Who?” he asked one final time. When there came no answer, the owl spread his wings and flapped away in search of food.
Her hooves squelched in the mud. It had been raining when she entered the Everfree and even though the canopy caught much of the rain, enough had reached the ground to soak it. She could see faint impressions of paws and slithering S’s. She was not afraid of what was to come. What would happen would happen.
Twilight pulled her cape tightly around herself as a gust of wind shook the trees. Water from the canopy’s bosom showered down, soaking her and her clothes through. She shook herself off with a shiver.
She reached up to her head for what seemed the hundredth time. Her hooves found the cold touch of metal. Twilight took a slow step forward, saddlebags bouncing off her hips as she did so, the precious treasures inside harshly rapping on them.
Her ears pricked up at the sound of a faint chime. It was joined by the sounds of an ethereal choir, voices distant. Her pace quickened, the sound of mud sucking at her hooves providing a rhythm to the indistinct music.
The sound of chittering cicadas joined the already playing symphony. Still Twilight continued, her eyes heavy and legs doubly so.
A fog rolled in, the cool mists kissing her legs. She had come a long way, all the way from Canterlot, and she still had a long way to go. Purpose had left her long ago in the Royal Archives. She had wandered lost, until the Call.
It didn’t happen all at once. It was slow, gradual, moving in fits and spurts, consuming everpony around her. She was the last.
She had expected this. Long life was a common enough blessing among unicorns. The warm glow inside her caused the flame to burn brighter. The crown she wore, the charm of a half-forgotten dream, only served to feed the fire further.
But even the brightest of fires burn out eventually. She’d seen it happen with distressing frequency over the years. She knew in her heart she would always be the last. Entropy consumes everything; it was a law of the universe. Even goddesses could not escape its slavering jaws.
I’d never claim to have prescience or that I was a soothsayer, but I always knew Rainbow Dash would be the first of us to go. She was a stunt flyer, in the Wonderbolts no less. The Wonderbolts always had burnouts – it was an unavoidable statistical probability. Rainbow’s accident was a cruel practical joke of the universe. It rolled the dice, and the lot was cast on her.
It was during a show in Ponyville. I think it was Rainbow who convinced them to hold the show there and not Cloudsdale. Whoever’s idea it was, the end was the same.
She had an idea, a foolish one. There were so many ponies there that she knew, and she wanted to impress them. Most of them never had the chance to make it to any of her other shows. She had to show off. It was in her nature, though she and many of her fans would claim otherwise.
Rainbow was trying to do some overly complicated trick. My memory of that day is vivid enough, just not about that. All I remember is that it involved a last minute turn before she hit the ground.
She didn’t make the turn. I remember everything after that – I don’t want to, but I do. You already know what happened, Princess, and I can’t bear to put these words on paper, to relive that horrible moment.
What do you do with somepony whose entire life was flying when she can’t fly anymore?
Nopony had an answer for that.
I’m ashamed to admit I was too busy preparing for the new position you had for me – head librarian for the Royal Archives. I never had much time to spend with her after the accident. I don’t know what she felt, or what she did.
All I know is she was gone one day, without a note. We searched for days, and finally came across somepony who knew where she went – the Everfree Forest.
We tried to search the forest, but it was as if the trees and weather were conspiring against us. The paths led us in circles; a heavy rain soaked us to the bone. We eventually had to leave, as our rations were running low.
The rest of my friends wanted to go back and look for her, but I knew it was too late. I don’t know how… I just knew.
The whisper of leaves grew to a rustling overhead. Twilight slowed in her stride until she came to a complete stop. She raised her head, inspecting the canopy. The sound grew until something small and furry dropped from the tree, landing in front of her.
She braced for a battle with one of the Everfree’s less friendly denizens. The beast was a deep black, almost blue. The beast’s face was amusing in its own way – leathery, wrinkled and wizened. Long spindly fingers were closed in a fist below that wizardly face in a faux-thoughtful pose, making it all the more comical.
Twilight raised an eyebrow and the chimpanzee followed suit. They stood there a long while, equine and primate, locked in a battle of curiosity. The ape reached up to scratch his head, somehow managing to retain that air of comedic contemplation.
It then tottered off, stepping gingerly over an exposed root. The chimp paused at a large but still immature tree. It looked back at Twilight, lips bared to reveal sharp-looking canine teeth. Then it hopped up, grasped the trunk and scampered up out of sight.
Twilight shook her head, amused at the whole event. For a moment there, she had really thought she was in danger, but it was just a curious chimp. She started forward again, the squelching of mud replaced by a new sound – the crunching of dead leaves beneath her hooves. The ancient path winded through the forest, and she would follow it to the end. She followed that ever-ascending tone in her head too. Old memories drifted by her: A song, an offer, a manticore, a silly sea serpent obsessed with facial hair.
Sometime after she had followed that crooked path, she heard a thump behind her. She paused again and looked behind her. The chimp was waddling up to her, a stupidly happy expression on its silly face. It was cradling something in its arms. A baby chimp?
That thought was dispelled when it offered its treasure – a brilliant green apple. Her stomach growled a hungry demand – Celestia, how long had it been since her last meal? A grinding ache in her stomach told her it had not been for some time. She licked her lips, mind wandering to the thought of biting into it and feeling its tangy juices drip from her mouth.
A sick, flickering violet corona enveloped the apple, drawing it from the chimp’s hands and towards the mare. As it came close, she sank her teeth into the apple, penetrating the flesh and filling her mouth with those tangy juices. A moan escaped her lips as the first chunk of apple slid down her throat. Twilight opened her eyes to see the chimp still standing there with an expectant look.
Oh, right. She smiled in thanks, and drew a violet aura around her. The cape of the arch-mage she wore around her shoulders, the cape that brought back so many memories of so many different things and ponies, floated over to the ape. Its mouth made an O of surprise as it wrapped the cape around itself. The chimp hopped up and down, hooting happily. Then it scampered off into the underbrush to return to its nest and show off its new treasure.
The ape had ascended. No longer was it an ordinary chimp. It was now the Great and Powerful Chimpanzee, to coin a phrase. The Great and Powerful –
Great and Powerful…
She fought back a sudden influx of tears, her eyes stinging. Just another memory she wanted to forget. Just like…
Fluttershy was distraught, inconsolable even. Nopony could blame her – her oldest friend was gone. Dead, for all she knew.
I made an effort to be there for her. I really tried, but I had a job. The job you gave me.
How much sleep did I get then? I spent my days in Canterlot, arranging the Royal Archives and going through the countless rediscovered manuscripts. I spent my nights in Ponyville, at Fluttershy’s cottage, trying to help.
She was almost catatonic. Despite all the inner strength she had hidden away, she had succumbed to a deep depression. Honestly? I can’t blame her. I know I said that before, but I really can’t.
I’m just disappointed she never tried.
While I was there, I always helped with the animals. Fluttershy rarely left her bed, and never to check on her precious animals. I think that’s what hit me the worst about the whole thing. She used to live for her animals, and here she was ignoring them.
It surprised me that Angel (her pet rabbit. Not sure if you remember him) had taken charge over the rest of the animals. It was even more surprising that he was kind to the other animals. He always struck me as a rude, spiteful brat of a rabbit.
One night, I went out to check on Angel and his flock. There was Fluttershy, closing the gate that led to the path to the forest. She looked at me, and I looked at her. I knew what she was going to do, and I didn’t stop her. I knew there would be something that would stop me from interfering.
That was when I understood about the Call.
Carved into the great trunk of the tree was a thunderbolt, stylized in the fashion of the fiery Wonderbolts. Twilight traced the carving with an unsteady hoof. A sad smile crossed her face. Though it was heavy, her heart still leapt at the final message from a dear friend.
She turned from the tree, eyes glistening with new tears. Her gaze fell upon It; the final citadel of her Purpose, the end of her journey, the origin of the Call. It gleamed in the first rays of the rising sun. This was the first time she had seen It during her journey.
She was close to her final respite, the stage on which the heavenly symphony was performing. She just had to cross a ford.
I can’t explain the Call. It’s less that I don’t have the words to explain it – I do – it’s that the Call itself doesn’t want me to describe it.
The Call came for Pinkie Pie next. By then, she was the proprietor of Sugarcube Corner. I had to admire her… she really cut back on her bad habits when she took over from the Cakes. She ate healthier, threw less wild parties (though her busy schedule might have contributed to that), and mellowed out quite a bit.
When Fluttershy was… ill, I went into Sugarcube Corner every night. Pinkie and I would chat a bit, about old times. I’d buy a few confections and leave for Fluttershy’s.
I kept doing this even after Fluttershy’s Call. I would spend my days in Canterlot; my nights in Ponyville, just like before. But I would stay at Sugarcube Corner the entire time, talking to Pinkie, and when the hour grew late, I would retire to the guest bedroom.
One night I saw a flyer on the floor. It was for a Grand Goings-Ons-And-Aways Party. When I asked who was going away, Pinkie said she was going back home to take care of her elderly parents. I believed her at the time.
She just slipped out of the party at some point. It was after a little speech she gave that didn’t make much sense. Nopony caught before she left, but the younger Cakes did find a short letter that reverted ownership of the bakery to the Cake family.
The creaking of wood was the only sound. Twilight huddled behind the fragmented statue of an alicorn. The statue’s majestically large flank shielded her from sight. Her breath was short and ragged, her heart a pounding drum.
In the clearing beyond the statue, a timberwolf grasped the body of a fox kit in its jaws. He probed the woods with his blazing yellow eyes. The timberwolf sniffed the air, searching the wind for intruders, the scavengers who stole the prey he earned. He uttered a satisfied, primal grunt and lumbered off to the thickening woods.
Twilight trotted out from behind the statue, wincing as her bones popped with arthritis. She took a momentary glance at the violence-stained patch of land where the fox’s struggle had ended. It always pained her inside to see the brutal side of life. The part of her that was a scientist said ‘No, it was necessary. Only the strong can survive here.’ Not that it made it any easier to accept.
No, not easier at all.
It’s strange – of all the ponies I met on my first day in Ponyville, I liked Rarity the least at first. She seemed so stuck-up, arrogant, obnoxious even. The more I was around her, the more I realised I had misread her entirely. She was devoted to her ambition, but not enough that she would completely lose sight of those around her.
She’d get caught up in the moment sometimes and get egotistical, but she almost always came crashing down to earth – though sometimes not on her own and sometimes quite literally.
Rarity finally became successful, and it changed her, but not for the worse. She travelled the world – Equestria, Canis, Knossos, Gryph, even the Zeborohara. Her fashions, elegant in style, were still adapted easily to the various species, making her clothing a coveted product. She was making money hoof-over-hoof, though she kept little for herself.
Charities were her primary concern. The Fancypants Home for Orphaned Foals, the Silver Spoon Hungry Hearts Foundation. No cause went unnoticed by her. They were all showered with annual donations, full to the brim with bits and all of them marked “Anonymous”.
During one of her trips to far-off exotic places, she became deathly ill. No-one could be sure of the cause – was it an allergy? A hitherto undiscovered disease? Some dastardly attack by an enemy of the Elements of Harmony? Whatever the cause, there was one thing everypony seemed to agree on: it was incurable.
I stayed in the archives for days at a time, searching through ancient alchemy texts, and Starswirl’s writings on curative magics. Everything I thought would work failed. I didn’t want to believe it was incurable. I didn’t want to lose another friend. I didn’t want another friend to go before me.
She was hearing the Call, I know she was; but the disease left her wasted and too weak to answer it.
She prayed every day, Sweetie Belle and her husband joining in the prayer circle. And you finally answered one day. A pair of royal guards arrived in Ponyville. Rarity was taken to Everfree, riding in a litter. The guards returned a week later. They said nothing of the journey, not to us and probably not to you.
Spike was devastated. Every year, on the anniversary of her passage, he went to the edge of Everfree and lit a candle in vigil. A vigil for somepony who would never return.
Her leg was broken, she knew that much. Her leg was broken, just as the ground had broken beneath her. Pain rippled through her with every breath she took. This hole had not been here before. She knew that too. She cursed to herself, trying to take her mind off the burning pain in her leg. Her Celestia-cursed, worthless excuse of a leg.
Vines were all around her, climbing down the walls and wrapping around the tiles below her body. Vines she could use to jury-rig a splint.
Twilight closed her eyes, that corona of violet magic sparking to life, engulfing her horn. With a harsh crackle, the energy died. The sudden feedback arced through her, the pain of it briefly distracting her from her broken leg. Then the pain from her leg began again, bringing a sob to her lips.
When it was just Applejack and I, I found myself spending more and more time at Sweet Apple Acres. We would sit on a hill just outside the farm, stargazing and talking. Those warm summer nights were some of the fondest memories I have of that time.
One night cider loosed my lips and I told her of the Call. It was easy – so much easier than trying to tell you. I think it was because of –
I don’t know anymore. All I know is I told her everything. When I finished I saw something dark pass over her face. In that moment, I knew she had heard it. She did her best to deny it, but she had never been a very good liar. There were flirtations of subtle insinuations that I knew, but nothing beyond that.
She couldn’t leave without saying goodbye, and I can’t blame her. Family was always important, and she was the loyalest and most dependable of ponies. The goodbyes were long and heartbreaking. I had to leave for a while to regain my composure. When Applejack finally came out to leave, I said my own goodbye.
Her eyes clouded over with tears. She hugged me tightly, and thanked me for being such a good friend. I don’t know if I truly was… but it made me feel better.
Then she was gone.
The statue was masterfully carved, Celestia’s figure unmistakable. The graceful curves of the statue could only have been crafted by a master artisan. The setting of gems could only have been designed by somepony who knew their craft better than their own lover.
Twilight had no keen eye for art, but she did have a keen eye for one gem in particular: A giant diamond, embedded in the carved raise of Celestia’s necklace. She lowered her head, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth in preparation for the oncoming pain. Her horn lit up again, the crack of magic dissipating echoing through the chamber. It hurt, enough to knock her down, but it succeeded. The statue imploded, scattering the gems and stone shrapnel throughout the chamber.
Standing with great effort, the jolts of pain still unbearable in her leg, Twilight hobbled over to where the diamond had landed. She leaned down, choking back a sob of pain as a fresh pulse of pain ran through her leg. Her small pink tongue brushed the diamond’s surface as she tried to bite down on it. It rolled away as her jaw snapped shut on her tongue. A warm, coppery taste flooded her mouth and she swore again. It took several more tries to bite down on the diamond – her years of magic use in the Archives had atrophied her mouth-eye coordination. After an agonizing eternity of failures, she bit down on the hard surface of the diamond, enamel grinding against it.
Lifting her head slowly so as not to drop the diamond, Twilight saw for the first time a staircase behind the shattered remains of the statue. The steps were overgrown with moss and broken in places. She could climb up them; she had to. But first she had something else to do.
She drew the vines tight around her leg. Blood dripped from her mouth, torn to shreds from the struggles with the diamond and the thorns of the vines. The splint was by no means perfect. It would do for what she had to do. At the very least, it would hold up during the final leg.
Limping slowly, the elderly mare made her way back to the statue room. Her leg dragged on the floor, each step stabbing her with a fresh spasm of pain. The splint was proving a great help in dulling the pain and helping her movements.
Climbing the stairs was another story. Her leg, useless so close to the end, dragged up the stairs. It banged against each step, the intensifying blasts of pain making her nauseous. Through sheer willpower she kept the few chunks of apple in her stomach from being ejected.
The white moon had graced the sky when she emerged from the pit. The glow illuminated the courtyard, casting it in a cool blue light. There was more than enough light for Twilight to make her way to the doors, the doors that led to eternal rest. A breeze blew, ruffling her fur and bringing a chill.
The castle stood before her, broken but still magnificent. She was close, oh so close. Her pace quickened, eyes fixed on those great doors. So transfixed was she that she failed to see the mossy stone depiction of the wine-god Buckhus, face eternally frozen in a boisterous laugh, a great mug of wine left halfway up to his mouth from now to forever. She sprawled to the unforgiving cobblestone, feeling something give, and hearing something make a sharp crack!
Tears flooded her eyes as hate filled her, hate at herself. Nothing had gone right ever since she got the Call. Every step of the way had been spiked with failure and humiliation. All she had done was screw-up and cry.
I should have stayed in magic kindergarten, she thought, the castle turning wavery in her sight.
Why am I still here? Why wasn’t I called before? I deserved it more than anypony else. I’ve lived long enough to see friends leave, and die. Long enough to gain and lose a lover. The indifferent claws of time have raked through my life, leaving only a few constants.
I feel as though I am trapped in a bubble, static while the world moves without me. Is this what you feel? Is this what immortality is like? I do not think I could bear such a thing. Perhaps for you it is a blessing, something you would never surrender. But for me, it would be a stigma. These few centuries I’ve lived – a split second in the life of a stone and not but a bat of an eye for you – have been hard enough on me and I cannot imagine how hard life eternal would be for me. Not that I would ever be immortal – in history, maybe, but never in flesh.
But no two ponies are the same.
I can’t leave without a farewell, but at the same time… I don’t think I could have borne to face you. My nerve – what little I have, that is – would be lost and I could never leave like I have to. This letter is for you. It is for Luna. It is for Cadance. It is for Spike.
My time has come. I want to say goodbye to all of you. I’m sorry it had to be so impersonal. I’m sorry I couldn’t bring myself to say this to your faces.
No! No, she resolved. She was there, the castle right there in her grasp. She had come this far, too far to quit now. She was broken, battered, but she would not give up now. Not after all this pain, not so close to rest.
One hoof in front of the other. Drag. The next hoof in front of the other. Drag. Repeat. That was all she had to do. She could not walk. She would drag herself to the ancient keep. Her wellspring of magic may have dried up, but her willpower was as fiery as ever. She would get there eventually.
And so she did. She dragged herself like a serpent down the cobblestone, inching closer and closer to her destination. Every muscle in her body cried out in pain. Her broken leg was a steady throb of pain. Her mouth was swimming with coppery redness; she had to spit to clear it.
The sun was rising when she climbed the final stairs, its pink fingers caressing the sky tenderly. The heavy doors of the Castle of Harmony were before her. Her eyes glistened with tears again, not with sadness but with joy. She had done it. As Celestia was her witness, she had done it. The Call faded from her mind as the doors swung inward. With one final burst of strength, she crawled through the doorway.
The doors shut behind her.
The Element of Magic was home.
I have been and always will be
Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle
