Here at the End of all Things
Glitter’s eyes scanned the page. Her brow creased; her lips pursed. Still, it was nonsense.
"Discord laughed, and picked up Celestia by her tail. ‘My dear, it’s clear.’ The spirit of chaos twisted her around in a tight circle, the princess exhaling a groan of discomfort. ‘We’re dead, or halfway there.’
He dropped her to the grass, where she landed deftly on all fours. Celestia smirked, and reached to the table next to her, picking up the glass that was upon it and balancing it—so delicate—in her hoof.”
Glitter flipped the page. This was where the bookmark was. She didn’t know how far Twilight had gotten on this page. The bookmark was the only hint she had.
"'This could be the last drink for you and me,' Celestia said," Glitter found herself reading along softly, “her muzzle breaking slightly into what Discord misconstrued to be a smile as he took the glass from her. 'Don’t swallow.'"
“Discord paused. ‘Whyever not?’
Celestia opened her mouth—”
Glitter stopped reading as she heard the library doors open in the not-so-distance. “Glitter?” came the familiar voice of Spike. “Glitter, is that you?”
“Yeah! I’m down a few rows!”
She heard his claws clatter across the flagstone, clacking on crystal, Spike lumbering into view not a moment later. It was bizarre, seeing how much he’d grown since she was a foal; he had barely been half a pony’s size, and now he stood at least twice as tall as her, and three times as broad. He was truly becoming a sight to behold—he was even a foot taller than Princess Ember at this point.
“There you are! I was looking all over for you. Starlight found some things up in one of the attics that she thought you might want to have a look at.”
Glitter looked up from the book. “Oh?”
“Some old paintings, and some boxes of your baby clothes, and other stuff.” Spike accompanied the list with a nod. “She figured that you would want to take a look at it before she let the rest of the girls in on it.”
Glitter shrugged. “Sure. I’ll go up in a second.”
Spike took a few reverberating steps towards Glitter, craning his neck to get a better look. “What are you reading?”
Glitter held up the book; inscribed upon the cover was a faded and ornate printing of Discord curled around the trunk of a large, ancient looking fig tree, a goblinoid grin besmirching his face. “It’s called ‘Discord Under The Bodhi Tree’. Evidently, it was what she was reading when...”
Glitter trailed off.
Spike set his gaze to the floor for a moment, then looked back up at her, a flickering half-smile on his face.
“What’s it about?”
“It’s mostly a collection of short stories about Discord being an ass,” Glitter said bluntly. Spike laughed. Glitter’s expression remained unchanged as she continued. “This one that she stopped on is really strange, though.”
“Strange how?”
“Discord and Celestia formed some sort of bizarre suicide pact,” Glitter said. “I think. The author of this one lived about fifty years ago, when that whole Celestia’s Light Cult thing was going on. Suppose that was the inspiration. All these stories were written before Discord returned and reformed, though, so it’s actually kind of interesting to see how he’s portrayed by these authors. He’s a lot more charming—if sadistic—when drawing from his mythical portrayals instead of his true-to-life ones. Still, having grown up around him... whole thing comes off as kind of surreal, if anything.”
Spike’s smile was stronger now. “Seems like you’re really into it.”
Glitter made a strange expression, as if she had tried to swallow a golf ball. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t know. I found it on her bedside, and I was just curious, I guess. Not entirely certain how I feel about the last story she read being that one, though.”
“Yeah. It’s a bit grim, I’d imagine.”
Glitter sighed. “It’s nothing to fret about, I guess.” She closed the book, setting it down on one of the now-desolated shelves. She stared, her eyes traveling to where the bookmark was. The bookmark which just so happened to be a faded—faded and still intact—purple feather.
“Something eating at you?” Spike asked.
Glitter rolled her eyes. “Yeah, some dragon keeps butting into my business.”
Spike snorted. “Sorry. Guess it’s a crime to care about my friends now.”
“If you actually cared,” Glitter snapped, “you’d get together with Starlight, and both of you would have a nice long chat with me about everything.”
Spike looked as though Glitter had just bucked him dead in the chest, full-force. “Glitter,” he started. His voice was soft. Never a good sign. “You know that Princess Celestia wants—”
“Why do we care so much about what Celestia wants?” Glitter spat, uttering the princess’ name as though it were a filthy insult.
“Glitter, I know you’re hurting, but I can’t help if you’re just going to fight me every step of the way.”
Glitter took a deep breath, her body shaking as if she’d just experienced a violent, blustery wind. A familiar feeling returned, one she had felt as long as she could remember getting upset. Like a web of piano wire wrapped around her heart, it drew tight in her chest, and intensified with every breath she took.
“I just wish she hadn’t left me alone here,” Glitter found herself saying before she could stop herself.
Almost immediately, she felt Spike’s grip and the wires tightened in turn. “She didn’t.” Glitter refused to look at him, instead focusing on a spot on the floor where a small crack had formed from endless hoofbeats. “We’re still here. And you know she didn’t want to leave.”
“I know. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Glitter inhaled as deep as she could against the pain, and then gently pressed her hoof into Spike’s claw. He loosened his grasp; she took a few paces away from him. “Sometimes though, I just think...”
“Just think what?” Spike’s voice carried a tinge of a rumble, something that had properly been directed at her only once, and the mere memory of which still made her legs twitch and the wires yank together despite themselves.
Glitter groaned, pressing a hoof to her temple as her brow furrowed, her eyes closed.
“Starlight? What are you doing here? I thought you left to go deal with that friendship problem the Princesses were having!”
Glitter took a quick look about the room. There was no Starlight Glimmer; not even a single speck of her. Well, there was likely some of her fur floating around somewhere, but that was hardly the point. “Uh. Mom?”
Twilight was not happy; she had both her hooves placed on the sides of her chair, pressed so firmly against the armrests that her forelegs quivered. Her eyes were narrow, and it was as if the entire temperature of the room had plummeted. Honestly, it very well could have—her horn was sparking like a dragon’s mouth.
“I’m not in the mood for games, Starlight. Why haven’t you left already?” Her eyes narrowed. Glitter shivered despite herself. “This is a matter of catastrophic importance! What if the Princesses get into a fight? What if they’re escalating it to the point of allowing Nightmare Moon or Daybreaker to return? What if they’re having a magic duel right now for supremacy? What if Luna doesn’t appreciate Celestia’s cooking? You have to go right now!”
“That doesn’t... Mom? I’m not Starlight. I’m your daughter, Glitter.”
Twilight looked dead into Glitter’s eyes. Glitter’s heart skipped a beat, an almost welcome reprieve against the cold strangulation of the wires. “Starlight. I am not playing around. If you will not go...” Glitter’s breath formed a cloud in the sudden chill, but that wasn’t why she gasped. Her mother’s horn was sparkling and crackling, her eyes clouding over with that strange, white mist...
“M-Mom?” Glitter took a step back, her breath catching in her throat.
Tight, so tight, tight around her heart. Stay calm stay calm stay calm stay calm stay calm stay calm stay calm stay calm stay calm—
The wires—
“Mom! Starlight’s in Manehattan right now! Don’t you remem—”
“Starlight Glimmer,” Twilight's voice boomed throughout the room at a deafening volume, her body slowly rising up into the air as her eyes went completely blank. A spiral of energy began to wrap itself around her body from her horn like an incandescent, effervescent snake made of platinum smoke. “For brainwashing and enslaving countless ponies, conspiring to usurp the princesses’ power, and for seeking to unravel all past, present, and future, I sentence you to—”
“Easy there, Twi,” came Spike’s gentle voice.
The dragon had appeared from the ether, bundled in his arms a thick lilac and azure blanket. He gently wrapped it around Twilight's body, slowly cocooning her and dragging her down. Twilight struggled for a moment, the atmosphere in the room fluctuating rapidly between a boiling sauna and a deep freezer several dozen times. Spike kept his grip on her, however, and softly eased her into her chair. He wrapped his large, strong arms around her, holding Twilight in a tight but careful embrace. She squirmed and jerked, but soon the glow faded from her eyes and she slumped limply against his arms. Spike slowly moved himself off of her, and Twilight blinked a few times, staring around the room like a curious foal.
Glitter sat there, panting as if she’d just done a double hit on The Running of the Leaves. An errant crackle of mana sparked up and down her horn. She could vomit. Or blow a hole in the wall.
Or both.
Not now.
Glitter pressed her hoof into her thigh, grunting as she felt the sharp edge against tender flesh, recently broken...
Not now not now not now not now.
Her hoof tensed.
Don’t run away.
“Mom wouldn’t have known at the time that it was a problem with the princesses.” Glitter was panting, and cast a worrisome glance in Twilight’s direction as her mother shivered under the blanket. She shifted her hips to make sure Spike couldn’t see her hoof. Endorphins coursed through her.
The wires weren’t pulling tighter, but they weren’t getting any looser, either.
“Her memories confuse the proper order of things, a lot of the time, I think,” Spike said, rubbing his arm and fidgeting in place. He paused for a moment. Twilight gave a deep heave, rocking back and forth slightly in her spot. “What she did really took a toll on her.”
Glitter’s eyes slowly ticked back and forth each time her mother shook. Hoof pressing harder into the thigh. “It’s a bit...” Glitter said, voice trembling ever-so-slightly.
“Scary?” Spike supplied.
Glitter broke from her transfixed gaze on Twilight, and hurriedly switched her focus to Spike, nodding.
Spike returned the gesture in kind. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s terrifying, honestly. I hate seeing her like this, but... we can be thankful that she’s alive.”
Glitter made a noise, but quickly bit her tongue. Spike’s brow furrowed. “What was that?”
“Nothing. I mean, it’s just—no. Nothing. It was nothing.”
“Say it.”
Glitter briefly looked back at her mother, who was now curled up in her chair, gently running her hoof along her side and muttering something neither of them could hear at that distance.
The wires clenched.
She pushed her hoof down.
“It’s just... I feel like the fact that I’m going to have to face sooner or later is that my mother died a long time ago, and that husk that she lived in wandering around is just something that makes her death harder to deal with until it goes away.”
The wires loosened.
A low rumble emanated from Spike—a sound that set Glitter’s hairs on end. “What did you just say? Glitter, I know this has been rough on you, but you can’t just—”
“I’m leaving,” Glitter promptly announced. “I’m going on that trip with Cloudcrasher I had planned when... this all happened.”
“What, just like that?” Spike asked, the tone in his voice unmistakable. “Glitter, we really do need you around. Starlight’s away in Manehattan until tomorrow night at least, and I can’t take care of Twilight all by myself!”
“Oh yeah, look how much help I’ve been,” Glitter scoffed, her tone so acidic that it could burn a hole through the floor. “I can’t just stand here and watch this happen over and over again. What about those five other ponies who are supposed to be Twilight’s best friends? Get them to look after her.”
“Glitter—”
Glitter had already left the room. The tiny trail of red droplets that ran from her thigh to dapple the crystal flagstone remained.
Glitter watched as her mother sat under that ugly fig tree in the small field adjacent to the castle. She’d been there for ages; seven and a half hours, to be precise. Glitter didn’t know how a mare who had once spent that time pouring over books and passionately (if not meticulously) micromanaging every aspect of her and the ponies close to her’s lives could now waste entire days under that stupid plant.
That said, her mother at least seemed happier whenever she was under it. Maybe it did have some sort of spiritual property to it.
Glitter snorted. Had her mother been losing her grip even before what had happened? It was hard to say. All she knew was that, at least if the stories were to be believed, her mother hadn’t always been like that.
Glitter worked up enough courage to approach her mother at some point after the eighth hour. The sun was low in the sky at this point, but dusk hadn’t quite fallen yet. The shadows were long, but everything was still perfectly and pleasantly illuminated.
Glitter approached her mother as if she were a skittish mouse attempting to steal a few crumbs of bread. “H-Hey, Mom.” Glitter swallowed painfully, her throat dry and her mouth cotton. The wires were primed, vibrating with anxious energy to begin their torture.
Twilight looked up at her, her eyes far duller than they ever should be. “Starlight? Where did you go, Starlight?”
“I’m not—I’m not Starlight, Mom.” Glitter sighed. She had known it was going to turn out like this. The wires pulled slightly, almost playfully; just warming up, it seemed.
The true show was about to begin.
“I’m sorry,” Twilight said suddenly. Glitter’s stomach twisted into a complex series of knots and refused to unbind. “I don’t know where you are!”
“I’m right here! Mom, what are you—” Glitter took a step closer to her mother. The wires drew with each inch forward.
“I’m sorry,” Twilight groaned, falling and grinding her face against the grass. “Please forgive me, Starlight, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”
Glitter looked around. She had no idea what she was supposed to do, and it made her feel as if she were drowning upside-down. “I, uh... Mom? It’s okay... I don’t...”
So tight they were almost touching, grinding against one another around her frantically pulsing heart, creating a whining trill that soared in intensity, reverberating through her bones to transmute into mana that sparked out the tip of her horn—
Twilight’s face dipped an inch from hers, small strands of her mane framing her cheeks. She was ragged, and fragile, and thin—Glitter tried not to gag as she imagined her own hooves breaking through Twilight’s skin like thin ice, plunging deep into the mare and having her pop and break against her like a rotting pumpkin.
It also didn’t help that her breath smelled awful and she hadn’t bathed in some time, preferring to spend almost all her time awake outside under this tree.
This was her new home.
Everything stopped. All was silent. She and her mother hung there, suspended for one single eternity within that moment, and Glitter could swear she saw the light behind her eyes.
Reality resumed, and Twilight sat straight up. It was a sudden, jerking motion. Her cheeks soaked with tears but her eyes as lusterless and devoid of expression as they had been before, she asked:
“Starlight, where did you go?”
Glitter stared at her mother a few more moments, a collapsing building and an erupting volcano tearing through her skull as the pressure of the wires was so intense it felt as if her entire chest were imploding. Stumbling away from her mother and that damned tree as fast as she could, Glitter broke into a full gallop as hot white lightning burst from her horn, screaming in overwhelmed fury at the top of her lungs.
“So you got this from Saddle Arabia?” Glitter asked as she looked over the heart-shaped leaves of the fig tree.
Twilight nodded, eyes scanning the branches and leaves. “Yup! It’s a clone from the northeast of there, from a legendary tree called The Bodhi Tree. Supposedly, it has great meditative properties when one sits underneath it. It’s very important to the spiritual and philosophical traditions of the area.”
Glitter snorted. “Sounds like you’ve been around Treehugger and Fluttershy too much.”
“You may laugh now, Glitter, and I know what it’s like. When I was your age, and for the longest time after, I had just your attitude. You really do have to learn to trust and put your belief in some things sometime.”
Glitter scoffed. “I really don’t see what you’re supposed to trust here, or the point of doing it.”
“There are a lot of things that are outside our control, Glitter. And these are things you’re going to have to make peace with, sooner or later.” Twilight sighed and looked over the freshly planted tree, a small smile dancing over her lips. “Besides, it’s a very aesthetically pleasing tree.”
“If you say so,” Glitter said, crinkling her snout in distaste as she looked over the gnarled and viney tree.
“If it helps, it’s more a philosophical or psychological practice than it is a religious one,” Twilight offered. This did little to broach Glitter’s cynicism.
“Sure,” she grunted.
Twilight’s horn sparked, and for a second, despite the fact that she had barely aged a day since she had become a Princess, she looked very much like an old mare.
“There was something I didn’t bother to look at or learn for a long time, Glitter. I was really caught up on whether or not things were... ‘right’. Naturally, I only wanted to believe what was cut and dry, laid out before me. But there’s something you really do have to understand: you can’t rely on it for everything, and you can’t learn everything there is. Sooner or later, it’s gonna catch up to you, and you can’t waste your time and energy on attempting to prove everypony wrong.”
She gave her daughter a hard look. “You don’t believe in things explicitly because they’re representable physically, Glitter. There are things that are impossible to prove or disprove practically; you will hit a wall when you try and tackle these things through observation and experimentation. For one instance of many, there is no method or science to trying to deal with ponies and their interpersonal problems as I’ve come to learn; it takes a degree of emotional response, composure, and dedication to achieve. The essence of science and learned wisdom, anyway, is an approach into the unknown with a clear head; a balanced and open mind. A lot of the practices involved around meditation have a great many practical uses for me, and they certainly could benefit you as well.”
She paused.
Glittered opened her mouth to strike in the silence, but her mother was too quick and started up again.
“There will be many moments that will supercede the limits of your logic and rationality in their duration; when you encounter them, which—I see that look, this isn’t a jab at you, dear, it’s the truth—you haven’t yet, for better and for worse, you’ll come to know the only thing that works.”
“And that is?”
Twilight looked at her daughter somberly. “Letting go.”
Glitter snorted. “Yeah, because ignoring things works so well.”
“It isn’t ignoring; letting go means confronting, accepting, understanding—and once you’re there, you’ll be able to truly let go. Meditation really helps with that. And when you let go, it isn’t permanent. It will come back to you, both when you need it and when you don’t. When you do need it, you’ll be able to hold your grasp upon it, and when you don’t... you can let go again. It’s a way to stay grounded. It’s a way to hold on to yourself.” She paused, chewing on the inside of her cheek for a moment. “A way to loosen the wires.”
Glitter stared at her mother. “What?” But her throat was dry, and the word was a croak, and Twilight had already continued on.
“It doesn’t require a belief in anything greater than yourself, Glitter. It's a way to overcome the obstacles that leave an impact, even long after the event has passed. Your mind can be damaged how the body can, but rarely is it unrecoverable. The alternative is unthinkable. It is a reserve of strength in hard times. It is a way to keep yourself centered and calm when the world has all gone to hell around you. In conflict, and after. The conflict can be either physical or verbal, as well. Keeping your mental and emotional states balanced and healthy is essential for making any sustainable progress in your life or others. I couldn’t do nearly half the things I did with... some of the events that have occured, or I envision will—”
Glitter couldn’t hold her tongue here. “Yeah, what’s all this about? For the last few months, you and Starlight, and everyone else, have been acting really weird—”
Twilight said nothing. Glitter snorted, and glowered at her mother just long enough for her to go unnoticed. She knew better than to expect an answer about this particular topic. Ever since things had gotten a bit...
There was a short, awkward pause before the sound of Glitter’s laughter shattered the silence. “Thanks for the pep talk, mom.” Despite her joviality, the strange and sinking pit that dragged its way through her middle had not gone away.
Twilight sighed, her brow creasing the longer she exhaled. “Glitter, I love you, and I sometimes wish that you weren’t so much like me.”
Glitter rolled her eyes.
“It wouldn’t bother you if it weren’t true,” Twilight said, the corners of her mouth twitching upward. Glitter did not dignify this with a response, although a little tug on her heart did make it difficult to resist a snippy comeback.
“I really think you could benefit from this as well,” Twilight said to her. “I’m not going to be around forever, you know.”
“I think those would like to have a word with you,” Glitter said, gesturing to her mother’s wings and horn. It was Twilight’s turn to roll her eyes.
“You know that’s not how it works, Glitter.”
Glitter shrugged. “I’m going inside. I have to get ready to meet up with Cloudcrasher,” she announced promptly. The wires liked this, and went slack.
Twilight opened her mouth but all that escaped was a defeated exhale. “Alright. Have fun, and be safe, sweetheart.”
She tried very hard to ignore the quivering cringe that ran through her daughter’s body as she called this out. Twilight sat back, watched Glitter advance towards the castle for a moment, and settled her back against the gnarled wood of The Bodhi Tree.
That’s when the sky darkened. It was all in a moment, filled with pitch-black clouds, churning in an unnatural, seething tumult. Glitter yelped as her mane was whipped violently around her face, a scathing gale welling up as the air grew noticeably colder.
“Glitter!” Twilight screamed over the wind. “GLITTER! Go find Spike and Starlight! Now!”
“What?” Glitter yelled back. “Spike and Starlight? Why would I—”
“Spike will take you to the cellar, you’ll be safe there! Tell Starlight to get the girls and then notify the other Princesses, now!”
“Is something happening? Is this what you were preparing—”
“NOW, Glitter! We can’t waste any time! I’ll tell you everything once I get the chance, I promise!”
With that, Twilight took to the air, her horn and eyes glowing as the sky broke open into a roiling tempest. Glitter opened her mouth to shout, but her voice caught in her throat as the wires did their familiar dance. She turned and hurried inside as fast as she could, heart pounding against increasing constrictions, shouting for Spike and Starlight as loud as she could.
Everyone fled to the cellar as fast as possible.
Cloudcrasher and Glitter sat huddled in the great underground room, Spike resting and curled in a ball on the other side. They all sat in silence, save for the muffled but still quite intense sounds of the storm.
It was Cloudcrasher who broke the silence first. “Guess we have to postpone the camping trip, huh?” His voice wavered slightly as he spoke.
Glitter shrugged. “It’ll be fine. I just wish our parents trusted us.”
“Whatya mean?” Cloudcrasher asked. One eyebrow was cocked, the stupid way he always did when he thought Glitter was overreacting.
She hadn’t been angry before, not really, but she was now. The wires tightened around her heart, their all-too familiar garrotting threatening to burst the poor muscle into pulp with each thunderous beat.
“Don’t you think they should have told us about what’s happening?” Glitter snapped.
“Wouldn’t it be better if we didn’t know anything at all?” Cloudcrasher asked back. “I don’t mind it.”
Glitter narrowed her eyes, her expression roughly the same as if Cloudcrasher had just suggested they both walk directly into an active volcano. “We’ve been in the dark for months about something ominous that they won’t ever talk directly about; they clearly don’t respect us.”
“What is knowing gonna do for us? I really think that it—”
Glitter cut him off. She could see where he was going with that. “—and then suddenly the weather’s gotten all bizarre over the past few weeks.” Her voice was growing in passion and volume with each word. So was her pulse, and the tightening of the wires. “And, as of just now, it’s intensified; and all our parents are getting together with the Princesses and Starlight to do who-the-hell-knows! This seems like a pretty damn big deal.” She paused to breathe short, rapid, and angry snorts; Cloudcrasher looked like he was directly between leaning over to hug her and bolting to cower behind Spike.
Glitter composed herself. The wires slackened. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to... get like that. You know I don’t like ponies—”
“Presuming stuff.”
Glitter shot Cloudcrasher a scathing glare, the wires tensing against the accelerating beat of her heart; the legitimate humor and pain he managed to mix together into that grin let them loosen again. “I hate you,” she said, unable to suppress a tired giggle.
His grin became nearly all humor. “Oh good, I was beginning to think you’d forgotten to remind me today.”
The two shared several moments of good, honest laughter; the wires fell away, she was lighter than air on her hooves, and only the sound of them rang around the cellar, Spike’s knowing smile hidden from them by his curled tail. Glitter couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed like this, at herself and not something else in that cruel, cruel judgement of hers—
It was almost enough to make her forget.
Not quite, though.
Glitter wiped a bit of drool from the corner of her mouth, hiccuping through a final mirthful snort. “Gnnahah—n-no, really. I mean, you’d think if your mom was either Twilight Sparkle or Rainbow Dash, one of them would tell you something.”
Cloudcrasher gave her his most outstanding noncommittal shrug. “Whatever, our parents can handle it,” he said. The nervous ruffling of his wings betrayed other thoughts.
Okay, we play this way.
Glitter gave him a hard look. “How can you be so unperturbed by this?” The venom had snuck back into her inflection.
“What, you don’t think they can handle this?” His voice was shaking again. That was real terror in his voice.
Real.
Glitter gritted her teeth, and for the briefest of moments, felt a sudden and violent urge to blow all the magic out of her horn. Pushing a hoof into her thigh, she gradually increased the force of the sharp end against her flesh, until—
Warm. That was so warm. Such force it stung like a razor.
She sighed and said: “I hope they can. Mom said she’d finally tell me what this was all about when she came back. I just can’t see any reason as to why they’d be so quiet about this. It’s bizarre.”
They were both quiet for a moment. The howling of the wind filled the silence between them.
Finally, Cloudcrasher spoke. “Is it really that important that we know?”
Glitter gave him a dumbfounded look, as if he had just asked her to spontaneously transform into an alicorn. “Uh, yes.”
“Why?”
“Then we might be able to help!”
“Glitter. Realistically, what could we do to help?”
“Won’t know that until I find out what’s going on.”
They were silent for a long while.
The night passed. The otherworldly howling of the wind and the crackling of what she hoped was lightning—but sounded all too akin to colossal explosions of magic—kept Glitter from sleeping even as Cloudcrasher drifted off, slumped against her with his hoof resting gently on her back.
Early, in what she assumed was morning, there was a knock at the cellar door.
Glitter opened her eyes. She hadn’t fallen asleep—had she?
Cloudcrasher had all rushed up to the door at once, but when it opened and he saw who was on the other side, his expression fell dark. Cloudcrasher had flown up to hug his mother at once, of course, but Rainbow had gently told him to go back down and wait beside Glitter for a moment.
“Where’s Mom?” Glitter asked Starlight and Rainbow Dash, who were looking down at them from the top of the ladder. Both looked as though they’d aged ten years overnight; Glitter had never seen Rainbow look so sombre and defeated. “She said she would be able to explain what was going on once everything got cleared up!”
Rainbow Dash and Starlight exchanged glances. Starlight looked back at Glitter, her eyes distant and shell-shocked. “Well, she came back with us, Glitter, but I don’t think she’s going to be in any condition to tell you anything right now.”
Glitter couldn’t even say she felt exceptionally bad about turning away from her mother at this point. No meaningful conversation was to be had with her while she was like this. It was pointless to even try. Besides, she’d be happier there, fooling around under her fig tree, without Glitter distracting and confusing her.
“Glitter!”
Glitter froze in her tracks. She hadn’t heard her say that in—she spun around. Her mother was laying on her side, staring ahead, expression pulled tight. Glitter swore she even saw the faintest glimmer in her eyes. It looked as though her mother was on the cusp of solving a difficult equation, or remembering a passage from an ancient text, or conjuring a powerful spell—
—or even solving a friendship problem.
“Starlight... no, Glitter, I... I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Can you just bear with me for a second? When it’s like this?”
Glitter opened and closed her mouth like a gasping fish. It had been so long—no.
No.
No...
No, It had been forever.
Glitter never expected to ever hear her mother speak to her like this again.
Twilight strained, attempting to push herself to her hooves as she continued to speak. “I need you to believe that I’ll be okay and be right with you, alright? Even if I-I’m like that, sometimes.”
Glitter took several stumbling movements towards the fig tree, her mouth agape. “Mom?”
Twilight’s eyes flickered. “Glitter?”
Glitter threw herself around her mother, her forelegs clenching tightly around Twilight. “I-I can’t believe it... Mom, you’re actually—” Her voice caught in her throat, a weird croak cutting off the end of her sentence. She blinked hard once and then nuzzled the nape of her mother’s neck for the first time since she was a foal.
“I love you, Mom.”
Twilight laughed. “I love you too, Starlight. Even if you insist on keeping that idiot showmare around.”
It would’ve hurt less if Twilight had driven her hoof through Glitter’s skull. She stared at her mother. In her eyes, she saw that faded, glassy fog had returned.
She almost wanted to laugh.
Instead, she settled on making an awful and strangled noise, like a puppy kicked. Her hooves fell from her mother. Twilight’s body fell on its side.
She couldn’t remember the next moments all too well.
All a flash of looking away and gawking too long.
And then fleeing back to the castle as fast as her shaking legs would take her.
Glitter felt as if she could actually breathe up here.
She tossed a glance back at Cloudcrasher. Yes, this was it. This is where she felt free.
Nothing can reach me here.
“Where do you wanna head?” she asked Cloudcrasher.
No matter how fast it is.
“Slithering Sands. Without a doubt.” Cloudchaser flashed a smile at Glitter. She felt her heart leap.
Yes, this is it.
Slithering Sands was a field of iron rich volcanic rock, which gave it a glittering, bright rust-red color that blinded anyone unprepared to look at it. Here in the Hadean Ring—the loop of extinct volcanoes, including Mount Canterlot and the eastern portion of the Equestrian Expanse—only the most recent of volcanoes to succumb to eternal rest had the amazing landscape that was presented to Glitter and Cloudchaser.
“Dear Celestia,” Glitter breathed, her hooves crunching over rust laden obsidian in a rhythmic tune. “This is a different world.”
“I’ll say,” Cloudcrasher said. “Makes me almost anxious... but in a good way?”
Glitter paused, turning her head from a small neon-blue scorpion that was skittering across the sands. “Huh? What do you mean by that? How can that possibly feel good?”
Unless...?
Her flanks burned.
And not just the scars.
“I don’t know. In a way, the overwhelming feeling of being presented with a world you’re completely alien to feels relieving.”
The dry wind howled through the crater. Cloudcrasher shuffled his wings.
“Wouldn’t you think?”
His voice sounded... desperate?
Almost.
Why was it so hard to tell?
They continued down the trail in silence. It was better that way. Cloudcrasher—he always had a bad habit of making her think too much.
You feel it too.
The heat took some time to dissipate.
An hour’s walk took them to the hoof of the Grand Unifiers. The name was an enigma to both—Glitter and Crasher had done their research in turn and it seemed one of equinity’s great mysteries as to their construction and nomenclature. In truth, when presented face to face, those details sloughed off as if they’d been nothing but excess fat. The surreal and alien nature of the great gneiss and osmium tesseracts (as tested in full by Glitter herself) remained locked, and that was truly what made the impression.
Cloudcrashed broke the silence. “I feel... strange.”
Glitter closed her eyes. Her scars were burning alone. The wires weren’t pulled, but she could feel an anxious pit in her gut that foretold constriction.
There was a lot to say.
What are you waiting for?
“Me too,” she confessed. She opened her eyes again, and focused on the tesseract before her, mind struggling to keep up with its fluid nature as blinding sunlight flickered impossibly off of it.
What would Mom think about these?
And for just a fleeting instant, within the strange and shifting faces of stone, she saw the twisting boughs of The Bodhi Tree.
“I feel like I shouldn’t be here... but not in an intrusive way.” Cloudcrasher’s voice sounded a million miles away.
Glitter turned from the throbbing headache of the hypercubic prism, and narrowed her eyes. “Is that the only format you can come up with?” she spat at him, so quick to turn to anger when broken from her own mind.
Crasher looked hurt. “What do you mean?”
“You think in paradoxes and contradictions... Once or twice is impressive but when you go on with it all the time it kinda gets boring.”
Crasher went silent, and Glitter felt the shame of her words. Only for a moment—and then he spoke.
“You know how you play with small balls of hay, or twine, or manebands as a foal? You don’t know why you do it, you just do, and it feels good, and if you think about it, it starts to become dumb and stupid and the joy you had from it is just gone?”
Glitter was quiet now. She blinked, and slowly opened her mouth to respond. She focused her gaze on the scorpion as it crawled through the sand. “Oddly specific, but I think I get the gist... go on?”
“I feel all these introspections and conclusions are just...”
The scorpion crawled across the sand.
“A way to process things. Like you’re doing anything at all. Like you have any control.”
Glitter’s throat had become so dry. Her scars were stinging in the high-altitude wind. She spoke slowly, her vision encompassed by the scorpion shining brilliant blue against the ferrous sand.
“Why do you like me?”
Little treadmarks left in the glass.
“You make me feel less alone.”
There was a scarab less than a hoof away.
“Is that enough to keep me around?”
The scorpion paused.
“There are other things, too...”
And raised its tail.
Glitter felt her heart begin to pulse.
The wires hummed.
She reached her hoof out.
Brushed his leg.
The scorpion struck the scarab.
His face was terse. “I don’t want to do that.”
Voice so soft.
Her scars burned.
Double down.
“Come on. I’m amazing at this~”
Put her best inflection in her voice. Dripped it with dew and honey.
As enticing of a poison as any.
“Glitter...”
The scorpion retreated under the rock.
“I can rock your world.”
It didn’t return.
“Glitter.”
She didn’t need it.
“I can make you feel things other mares couldn’t even dream of making you feel.”
She was everything she could ask for.
And this moment would last forever.
“GLITTER!”
Crasher’s voice cut through just the same as obsidian under her hoof. It rang in her ears and it hurt, it hurt so bad.
She paused.
Cloudcrasher was locked in eye contact with Glitter. It felt like he was searching her mind, or maybe even her soul. And then his eyes flicked down her body, between her open hindlegs.
“Glitter, what are those... on your...”
His voice faded.
“What? Don’t you...” Glitter tried her hardest to hide the marked, scarred insides of her flanks, little crescent hoofshapes where her coat wouldn’t grow anymore, her cheeks suddenly so hot, burning from the inside out.
They were awake.
“It’s not like that. I just...”
Sliding along the raw flesh of her heart.
“Don’t worry about it. There’s nothing to talk about.”
Ready to begin the same old stunt.
Cloudcrasher bit the inside of his lip. “Glitter...”
Harsher than ever.
“It’s fine. Everything is fine. Don’t waste a second of your time worrying about me.”
It hadn’t worked on her mother. But Cloudcrasher wasn’t her mother.
“I want to worry about you.”
It was so earnest. The wires were alive, pulling and grasping and now filled with an electric pulse that HAD to be alive—
Glitter snorted. “How dumb is that? If you looked at it down to its bare bones, its real logical implications—”
“Ponies aren’t just their logical deductions, Glitter—”
“Now you sound like my mom. You only want this because you’re lonely.”
A pause.
“Yeah.”
“So why don’t you want me?”
No conversation followed. There was never an embrace, nor a kiss. There was only the sound of obsidian crushed underhoof as the two plodded away from The Grand Unifiers.
They reached a dune, perfectly curated and concave to let them seek shelter from the harsh winds blowing from the Marelantic to cut through their otherworld. Glitter curled close to Crasher, and for a second there, before she fell asleep, she felt a strange gripping feeling that had long been lost to her, and mostly by design.
Love.
It wasn’t lust, it wasn’t a patch for loneliness, it wasn’t even platonic friendship—it was something much more brilliant and stark, something that could cut through stars and send shadows fleeing over the horizon. No, it wasn’t hormones spiking and a desire for anything to save her; it was the light of Celestia and Luna in harmony bringing the day and night, the light and dark, and quietly leaving to let her indulge in true happiness.
His wings against her body were a warmth and softness she would never forget.
She could smell him for days after.
But all faded, all left, and into the momentary death she plunged.
The sky was nothing but gold. It could have been dawn, it could have been dusk—it did not matter. It was gorgeous.
She spread her wings. HER wings. They were hers.
She was a swan.
She felt her wings dip against the edge of the pond.
There was nothing to be feared
As her mother appeared
Purple wings, perfect grace
And together fell into empty space.
And when she felt the wires tight
She said that it was alright.
‘Twilight will always fade to night
And the sun will rise just as bright.’
“But how am I to let it go?”
Is all she wants to know.
Buried deep, imagined halo glow
Just a wendigo, only snow.
And across idyllic pond
The two soared far beyond
The confines of physical form
And promised they would be reborn
And even though it was all a dream
It spoke to life more than it seemed
And sparks of thought will always teem
Never again to let her breathe.
When Glitter awoke, she had the largest smile on her face. Her cheeks hurt as if she’d been doing it all night long. Cloudcrasher was still curled against her, his chest gently rising and falling as one hoof rested against her back.
She shifted in place, rolled over, her muzzle inches from Cloudcrasher’s. She lay there, love in suspension, for however many unknown and strung together moments until he slowly opened his eyes.
“Good morning.” His voice was just a bit raw, even over the inherited rasp.
“I’m so sorry about yesterday,” she blurted out before she could stop herself.
“Don’t worry about it.” Voice so perfect, so deliberate, so honest, so real, so unlike hers.
“I tried to flip it around on you. I tried to make you feel awful for not... for not...”
He drew her hooves tightly around her. “I know. I’m sorry. You don’t have to apologize.”
Her grin was still strong, but tears began to flow from her eyes. “What the actual fuck. You didn’t do anything to me for you to deserve this. I’m a monster, Crasher. Don’t let me hurt you.”
And their chests pressed together, and his wings drooped down around her like her mother did so often, and she couldn’t breathe for a moment, but when she could again she was laughing.
“I love you.”
And he smiled, kissed her cheek, and said: “I love you too.”
Glitter spent the better part of the next three hours trying to justify how awful she had been the night before despite—or perhaps because—of how Cloudcrasher had forgiven her. When they finally reached the lip of the caldera, she had forgotten where they were, and stared blankly upon the open verdant beauty of the Equestrian foothills.
“Holy shit,” was about the most intelligent thing she could come up with.
“Would you like to take the fast way down?” Cloudcrasher asked, wind whipping both their manes errantly about.
If only you knew, was what she had begged herself to say, but instead the words that came out were:
“I’d love to, but I have to wonder what the faAAAAAAAA—”
In an instant, Cloudcrasher had wrapped her up in his forehooves, and without a moment’s hesitation, plunged backwards off the edge of the cliff. The two plummeted towards the ground below.
Glitter screamed, but Cloudcrasher’s wings had already spread and the two were suddenly barreling at Mach 2 through the thin air, piercing the atmosphere like a brilliant comet—or perhaps like Rainbow Dash, which would have made Cloudcrasher so infinitely proud to hear even if he’d deny it to the ends of the earth.
The valley opened up beneath them as the landscape streaked by, and the craggy and barren rocks gave way to scrub and grass and small trees and finally forests as they shot down in elevation. Glitter felt it become easier to breathe as the air thickened but could not take advantage of it as her heart quickened.
The ground had broken away from forest to clear cut grassland and hillocks, and she could catch streaks of cottages as the two barreled across the countryside, Glitter tucked underneath Cloudcrasher and the two holding onto each other so tight that Glitter had to wonder if he could breathe.
They wove and curved above the farmlands, the ground’s colorful patchwork blurring by. She could only watch, and that is what she did. Every little thing changing and rushing past so quickly she never had a moment to stay still and hold any of it in her hooves.
Perhaps this is how the world was supposed to be seen, and how life was supposed to be lived.
because there has to be a correct way to do it, isn’t there?
And far too quick it was over. The small toy models of the homes of Ponyville swelled to the size of life, and Cloudcrasher landed cleanly, deftly, on all four hooves right before The Castle of Friendship.
She felt her hooves slip from where they had held so tight for so long, and let go of him. Glitter fell the few inches into the grass, back first, and was still staring up wild-eyed and breathless into Cloudcrasher’s flushed face.
It took a few moments for her to find her voice. ”That was amazing, but if you ever do that again without my permission, I will pluck your wings and force feed you your feathers.”
“Valid,” Cloudcrasher smirked down at her, and the two shared more laughter as Glitter turned over and pushed herself to her hooves. Both were still both laughing as she opened the majestic double doors to the castle.
“Hello?” Glitter called out into the empty hall. Her voice reverberated for a few moments and faded. She turned back, hoofsteps echoing, to face Cloudcrasher, and that’s when she saw them coming up from behind.
Spike and Starlight Glimmer were slowly coming up the promenade. Spike had his arm across his face, his body shaking with silent sobs; Starlight looked as though she’d just been bucked in the stomach, pale and empty-eyed.
Glitter still had her enthralled grin installed upon her face. “Jeez, who died?”
Spike made an absolutely indescribable noise and a small tremor went through his body.
“Twilight did,” Starlight said. Her voice was blank, it was hollow, it was empty.
The words rung around the inside of Glitter’s mind like a struck gong, refusing to stick or gain purchase anywhere within. “What?” She was still grinning so wide it was painful.
Spike tried to say something but merely sobbed again, and Starlight droned:
”I’m sorry. She must have... she must have gotten into the bath at some point when Spike was out at Sweet Apple Acres getting Applejack and Rainbow to come over and help.”
Glitter blinked. That buffoonish, unnatural, agonizing grin was still besmirching her face. “What?”
”She’s gone, Glitter.”
Spike’s voice was hardly above a whisper, so unbefitting of this gigantic and mighty form he possessed.
Glitter slowly pivoted on her hooves to face Glimmer in full, her vacant smile held, and then she looked back at Spike, just for a second.
Her smile fell.
And the rest of her went with it.
She collapsed there on the floor. The wires had snapped. They were broken.
And somehow that was so much worse than before.
Collapsed there on the floor, she wailed. It felt as if she’d been smacked with a tsunami, thrown deep in the ocean, dragged under to the abyssal plane below.
And here before her best friend and loved ones, she broke into hysterical wails and gasps.
Her horn was lifeless.
Just like—
Glitter turned her head upward, looking at neither Cloudcrasher nor Spike nor Glimmer, tears flooding free down her face as the broken wires swung uselessly in her chest. She didn’t speak. She knew that they all knew she was wrong. Twilight wasn’t dead before. Glitter couldn't pretend like anything while her mother was still here, no matter how bad, was comparable to how things felt now.
What had once been a tiny cut had been split into a gaping fissure.
Glitter opened her eyes. Spike was standing next to her, biting his lip and looking at her; he had a claw to his mouth. Nothing was said between them, at first, and then—
“You okay?” His voice was gentle.
Glitter felt a strange flutter in the bottom of her chest, and for the first time in a while, smiled. She turned to face Spike, who judging by his sudden jolt, was taken aback by the maniac grin she’d plastered wantonly across her face. “Yeah, actually. I’m feeling... weirdly okay.”
Spike chuckled, but he still hadn’t moved his claw. He held his shoulders forward, as well. “Ahah... yeah. I don’t think I’ve seen you smile in, well—”
Glitter held up her hoof, her expression the envy of Cheshire Cats everywhere. “It’s alright!”
Spike did another double take. “It is?”
Glitter nodded; she had the ballistic glint of a demolitionist in her eyes. Spike cocked his head, his own eyes narrowing the same as Twilight’s would when she could obviously tell Glitter wasn't submitting the full truth. “Are you certain? You’re not mad?”
“I don’t believe I could ever be mad again, Spike,” Glitter said. She wasn’t sure if that was true—but hell, somepony had once said to her that it didn't matter.
Right?
“You—what? Glitter, what’s going on? What happened?”
Glitter laughed, a loud, barking one, and waltzed right out of the library. She skipped across the second-story mezzanine, her head thrown back, a strange euphoria filling her up like helium. She was so light, so bubbly, so nothing that she could just float away at any moment.
It didn’t matter, did it? As her hooves clattered down the stairs, a loud, whooping laugh filled the castle. Ponies could do whatever they liked in this crushing absurdity. She ran through the empty hallway, a strange and vaguely unnatural glee welling up within her beneath the weightless vapors, a bubbling pot of tarry molasses. Too sweet, sickly sweet, thick and boiling. It was horribly uncomfortable; she laughed so hard her chest was tight.
As the doors to the front of the castle flung open and a warm amber ray of light bathed the main hall, Glitter’s elated jubilation rose to a fever pitch. She stumbled over her hooves, clambering to get outside.
“Glitter!”
She barely registered Spike’s call; she could barely even see in front of her. An incredible pressure had been lifted from inside her skull, and everything was flooding into her head all at the same time. In a brief moment of blissful ecstasy, she closed her eyes and let herself gallop blindly.
What was I waiting for?
“I don’t need to know! And I don’t wanna know!” she cried out to the sky, drawing to her hindlegs. Hooves flung upward, mane flopping about messily across her face in a most ungraceful manner, her eyes still clamped shut. The mild breeze sent a small tingle up and down her spine, a glorious soothing ripple against her scars, open and visible as they were. She held her position, chest heaving, forelegs upstretched, until her hind ones began to wobble and bow from the strain. She dropped back down, collapsing to the grass as a salvo of hooves, body, and head. Her smile still painfully stretched over her lips, her wild panting rung in her ears like the crackling of mana on that cursed night.
Glitter opened her eyes.
There she was, standing before her and looking as if she’d always been there, watching her entire display from start to finish. The late afternoon sunlight silhouetted her towering form, forming a brilliant and dazzling aurora around her. Glitter’s jaw dropped open and Spike, who was about ten paces behind her, stopped dead in his tracks; he had clamped both claws over his mouth.
“Hello, Twilight Glitter,” Princess Celestia said. She wore the saddest smile Glitter had ever seen. It spoke more than any words could ever convey—even if it was only in the instant the afternoon sun shone across her muzzle, Glitter saw: weariness that was not defeat, grief that was not poison, love that was not blind, and acceptance that was not apathy.
A life she could never understand.
“I have so much to tell you.”
She was going to have to try.
Glitter opened her mouth, tongue pressed against the inside of her teeth, poised to speak—and said nothing, bowing her head and stepping within inches of the Princess’s radiant form. Glitter glared down at the grass, burning holes in the ground inside her mind as she set her jaw so tight against itself one could almost hear it creak.
There was a rustle and Spike gave a small cough before slinking away as soon as Celestia wrapped her wing around Glitter, who shook violently with sobs, her hooves pressed against Celestia as if she were the only tree in a hurricane, and if she dared to loosen her grip for even a moment she would be torn into the tempest.
“What are you going to tell me?”
And her answer was:
“What would you like to know?”
The wind rustled through the leaves. “Everything,” Glitter finally said.
“I don’t know everything.” Celestia said this in the same way Twilight had once told Glitter, endless eons back in her memory, that none of them could.
Glitter felt like a shell, but she was not empty. Something was moving, twisting, curling inside said shell, grasping pincers and thrusting carapace dragging itself across the ocean floor.
“Then tell me everything you do know.”
Celestia’s eyes shone in the crepuscular rays. “It would be both my pleasure, and my privilege.”
Glitter’s smile hurt so much, and it hurt so good. “Thank you.”
“Of course, my little pony. We may—we must—go at your speed.”
Glitter didn’t speak for a moment, and then asked. “What was she like as a foal? My mom.”
A distant, sad chuckle escaped Celestia. Glitter’s smile gained a bit of a boldness, even as her heart lept in her chest, and—if i may be so bold to claim—Celestia thought it was the most endearing thing in the world.
She walked herself and Glitter to the field where the two of them sat under the Bodhi Tree and talked for hours, well into the night. Of what they spoke shall not be said; after all, some privacy is deserved to everypony, everycreature, everyone.
“—and sang:
“Lying on our backs
In the treetops
Drawn out of light.
We opened our eyes:
Scared vision set only on survival.
Open up the traps
Under the rooftops
And bring an end to the fight.
We opened our eyes:
The sunbeams promised us revival.
Traced foalhood maps
Without intentions
Try to set it all right.
We opened our eyes:
It hurt that more to be in denial.
Watch it all collapse
Until the sky drops
And draws your chest tight.
Then, open your eyes:
The morning displays a new arrival.
And, open your eyes.
You are still alive.”
Author's Note
This is for My Mother, who tries her hardest.
This is for My Father, who tries every day.
This is for My Best Friend, who carried on throughout it all.
This is for His Mother, who tried her best.
This is for My Lovers, who deserve better trauma.
This is for My Dead Friend, who can finally sleep.
And finally, this is for you, Dear Reader, whom i offer my deepest apologies and who i want to know that i love you.
