Scant Dreams and Forgotten Memories
“Princess Twilight!”
An unfledged alicorn perched upon an ornate throne was snapped out of her sleepy state when the doors of her throne room were suddenly flung open. Night had fallen, yet in front of her were two nobles, squabbling over petty disputes. Wrapping them in her magical aura, Twilight moved the pair aside to greet the new arrival.
“What’s wrong Captain? I’ve never heard you so worried.”
The Captain hyperventilated for several minutes before responding. “It’s the changelings, my
Princess. They have armies marching towards our eastern provinces as we speak!”
Twilight gasped. “What? I thought Thorax was satisfied with the new border agreement. He even told me so at the conference!” Her eyes narrowed at the Captain. “How did you find this out?”
The Captain fumbled with his helmet. “Well, King Thorax told us himself.”
At his words, more Guards arrived with a stretcher upon which a bright green changeling rested. One of his gallant antlers was cut in half and bite marks covered his body. One of his legs was mangled, its bones fractured beyond healing. The fallen king stirred.
Twilight rushed to his side. “Thorax! What happened to you?”
He sputtered. “Chrysalis sympathizers. They infiltrated the hive long before she was petrified. There...there was a coup weeks ago. Disguised themselves as us. By the time I found out about their fu-future plans, it was too late. Threw my supporters and I to the dungeon. Feasted on our love.” Thorax coughed violently, staining the alicorn’s coat spots of sanguine red. “Managed to escape, t-thanks to Pharynx.” The blood became diluted with tears.
Twilight held him in her embrace and looked up to the Captain. “Have you mustered a defense?”
“My Guards began the moment they found him near the border. I have also issued reinforcement orders for them.”
“Good. Make sure to keep an eye on our cities as well. I wouldn’t doubt that they also hid infiltrators among our population. Do whatever you need to do to find them.” She took a deep breath. “And pacify them, should it come to that.”
“Yes, Princess.”
The Captain left hurriedly and Twilight caressed the head of the changeling. He was struggling to breathe.
“Don’t worry Thorax. The power of friendship will get us through this. It always has. My friends and I will fix this. Please don’t worry...”
Few expected the return of Sombra. Fewer still knew how he managed to return. Some postulated that he tampered with the Crystal Heart. Others say that his curse is eternal. There were even rumors that sympathizers aided in his resurrection. Perhaps it was something else entirely.
These questions did not bother Twilight. She was concerned with more immediate and delicate problems. A council of generals and advisors were assembled before her, discussing the matters of the state. One general in particular was presenting a report from recent developments of the ongoing war between Equestria and Sombra’s Crystal Empire.
“We need more soldiers on the front lines!” she barked hoarsely. “Most of the reserve garrisons have already been depleted, not to mention all of the new recruits too. Sombra’s strange slave army comprises almost all of the capitol’s population! If Princess Flurry Heart is correct, subtracting her refugees would leave Sombra’s current ponypower between two and five million, depending on his labor force. Our ponypower, on the other hoof, is just under one million, and that’s including the reserves.”
“What do you suggest then?” somepony asked.
The general cleared her throat. “I say that we start a conscription campaign. Even if it is applied for only three percent of the population, our ponypower could at least match Sombra’s.” She sighed. “Though, I must admit that it won’t be enough for long once Sombra start subjugating and enslaving the cities outside of the capitol and the provinces he conquers.”
A stallion stood up. “How could you suggest such a thing! Equestria has been an example of peace and harmony since the War of the Sun and Moon! The power of friendship has saved us then and after, and it will save us today too. Our Princess knows this more than anypony else.”
Many of the council members nodded at his proclamation. The general seethed and muttered, but she did not speak out against the overwhelming scrutiny of the advisors.
“Of course. I should have known it would cost so many lives before we’re saved,” she mumbled, walking back to her place in the assembly.
Twilight’s eyes were glazed with wistful visions unimaginable to her subjects when she heard the underhoofed reply. She called out to the general.
“Stop. I wish to ask you a few questions.”
The mare halted, her head slowly turning towards Twilight with widened eyes. “Yes, my Princess?”
“How many ponies are we losing each day?”
She gulped. “Uh, about twenty to thirty thousand.”
Twilight mulled over the information as the other advisors fidgeted about. “Is this number firm? Stabilized?”
“I fear not. Our current casualty rate is the result of mere skirmishes. It is expected to rise exponentially once our armies engage in bulk force.”
Another advisor shouted, “You lie! Those were not ‘mere skirmishes’! They were full blown engagements!”
Twilight held up a hoof. “My conversation is not finished yet.” The advisor sheepishly cowered before the alicorn continued with the general. “Do you think that there is no other alternative to this war?”
The general hesitated, but shook her head solemnly. “I do not doubt the magic of friendship. I swear. But, it’s just that we gotta make sure that we save ourselves first before it can save us methinks.”
“I see.”
The stallion that argued with the general perked up at her words. “Princess, are you seriously considering her proposal? You, of all ponies?”
Twilight spoke with a neutral, but resigned tone. “When I uncovered the plot that would have overthrown Thorax and devastated his hive those many centuries ago, a few questions crossed my mind. What would have happened if the plot was never discovered? What would we have done in response to its violent aftermath?” The advisors were silent. She stood up. “I expected and dreaded that such a quagmire would resurface. We are not dealing with the troubles and social quandaries of singular creatures here, rather we face the onslaught and prowess of an entire nation motivated to war against their will. The art of warfare is no place for friendship lessons I’m afraid. We must do what we can to safeguard peace and harmony from Sombra’s tyrannical imperialism.”
“You expect that the ponies of Equestria will follow through with the conscription, Princess, but they’ve been distancing themselves from the matters of warfare since the unification of the three tribes. You know that. Already they are protesting and denouncing the ponies that are volunteering to join the Guard. Furthermore, if the conscription were to take effect, we would also need to dedicate more factories towards the production of weapons to meet supply quotas. Equestria’s citizens will not abide by a decree to mobilize in any capacity, even if it is proclaimed by you.”
Her expression unchanged still, the alicorn nonchalantly replied, “Then they will learn to abide, else they perish.” The advisor flinched at her words. “Brainstorm some ideas to increase war support or aid the war effort for tomorrow’s meeting. The faster we get this done, the faster we can win this war. You are all dismissed.”
The ponies shuffled out of the room, whispering among themselves over their Princess’ new imperative. Twilight mused over the difficult path that lay ahead of her.
If all else fails, at least I will still have one final alternative.
Flames blazed throughout the streets of Canterlot. The pristine buildings were charred and bathed in the tongues of wild conflagrations. Armored dragons soared through the skies, impeded only by the remnants of the Royal Guard. Ponies ran amok in the city in fear of being burnt alive in the combat. At the base of the city’s mountain foundation lay a battered and scarred corpse of a massive purple scaled dragon, bearing the wounds of battle. Only the castle remained safe from the chaos for it was protected by a magical shield conjured by Princess Twilight herself.
Her head throbbed for each assault directed towards her shield. Sweat trickled down her face and her body teetered on the edge of unconsciousness. In the throne room, the alicorn was accompanied by a small garrison of Guards and even dragons, ones marked with the emblem of the Dragon Lord. Beside her was her current protege who tended to Twilight’s health and fatigue. His aide was comforting, but she knew his efforts were ultimately futile.
Twilight cried, but the tears did not come from the pain of holding her spell.
“It’s just like the war against the changelings! Like the war against Sombra! Why can’t the world cease its cruelty?” she sobbed quietly.
Her protege embraced his teacher. “Twilight, you really shouldn’t be thinking about those nightmares right now. They never happened. Think happy thoughts like the fact Ember will arrive soon with reinforcements to drive out these separatists so you can finally rest.”
Twilight shook her head wearily. “You don’t understand, my student. I may only be a few millennia old, but I have experienced events that transcended my age far beyond just a mere ‘few’.”
“I’m sure that’s just a side effect of living for so long.”
“Heh. I suppose it is.”
The battle outside the castle raged on. Bodies piled the streets, consisting of dragons and ponies alike. Whatever battle lines were drawn between the two sides before the fighting began were now in shambles or were pushed back to the castle. Cracks spider webbed over several sections of the magical shield. Twilight ceased her weeping, the sadness replaced by affirmation.
She sighed. “Ember won’t arrive in time.”
Her protege still clung to her. “Don’t say that! You don’t know. Maybe she’ll even arrive early. Maybe the dragons outside will retreat. Maybe Spike will get back up. Maybe we’ll be able to hold…”
Twilight placed a hoof over his mouth. “I do know, unfortunately. I’ve seen it time and time again. We will perish here no matter what we do. Save for one thing.”
“What would that be?”
She grimaced. “As much as I would like to keep the course natural, I know far too well that I have deviated far away from that goal already. I need to try once again. For the last time, hopefully.” The alicorn closed her eyes as if remembering a practiced response. “We must flee away from here. I know a spell that can...reverse this tragedy, but I will not be able to hold the shield while I do it. Let the dragons have Canterlot. It won’t be for long.”
The stallion looked up at her with hopeful eyes and naive wonder. “Are you gonna use the magic of friendship to save us?”
With an uneasy smile, Twilight reassured her protege with deliberate words. “Of course, my little pony. Though it may take me several tries, it will only be once for you.”
Sunlight shone lazily through the mosaic windows of the throne room. Instead of illuminating the room with dazzling color, the dirty glass, long neglected, coated the walls and floor with muddled hues and grimy glows. What few rays that did manage to pierce through the gloom only brought to light the dusty air, particles that floated undisturbed even on the most busiest days of Twilight’s kingdom.
The timeworn alicorn was slumped upon the throne, listening to the weary reports of her tired council. They only ever brought the same or similar news, but there was always a minuscule hope that the news would be good for once. Twilight had her eyes closed while one of her ponies droned on.
“...needless to say, the Appleloosa Confederacy demands military and monetary aid from Canterlot and her vassals against the Ponies’ Republic of Las Pegasus for the Republic has supposedly violated the established demilitarized zone between the two nations according to the Treaty of Vanhoover circa the sixth millennia.”
Without opening her eyes, Twilight spoke. “Let me guess, they also demand to annex the Republic completely if they were to win the war as repayment from us needing their food supply and traders.” Her eyelids lifted slowly. “Don’t they?”
The advisor sighed deeply. “You said it. I wouldn’t doubt that tomorrow they’ll bring up another older treaty or agreement to further their agendas and justifications.” She paused. “Shall I decline them again?”
“Yes, please.”
The advisor was joined by a general from the council. He sheepishly looked about, never daring to face his Princess. Around him, his colleagues prodded the stallion on. The advisor bowed her head to him and stepped aside slightly, giving the spotlight to the jittery general.
“I, uh, h-have some....u-urgent news, Princess Twilight,” he stammered.
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What news would be so urgent in this day and age?”
The general gulped. “It’s about Ponyville. They wish to secede from the kingdom along with Cloudsdale and neighboring districts.”
The alicorn stood up suddenly, frightening the general. With methodical steps, she trotted to one of the worn windows. With a touch of her horn, Twilight cast a spell upon it. Slowly, a circle of arcane energy grew from the point and spread across the rest of the glass, cleaning it of impurities. For the first time in several centuries did the sun’s rays bless the castle’s interior. From the window, Twilight peered out past the royal city. A grand metropolis sprawled out in the distance, untouched by hardship seemingly since the beginning of time. Near its center, the glint of crystals permeated. Without looking away from the sight, she addressed the general, a slight quiver betraying her firm resolve.
“And so only Canterlot remains. Even after all I have done to prevent...this, only Canterlot remains.”
“But, perhaps Ponyville may yet seek an alliance with us. Strengthen our ties.”
“Perchance only. One day will arrive when they wish to break away completely. One day will arrive after that when such things won’t--can’t--matter anymore.” She turned to the general, now accompanied by the rest of the council. “Do you remember the Changeling Coup? Sombra’s return? The Draconian Civil War? Any of the countless disasters and wars that have devastated Equestria?”
“Uh, I’m not sure if those ever happened, Princess.”
The alicorn looked back to the window. “I assure you that they have occurred, but not for any of you. And in each one of those conflicts did the decline of harmony and friendship begin. For untold measures of time, I ensured that our ideals and way of life would never be threatened, yet each victory was marred with twice the hardships defended from. Life has taken from me the perfect world in each of those cursed days. I will not have my little ponies aid in its malignant will and corrupt machinations.”
The council members murmured among themselves, confused by her strange ramblings. One of them asked, “So...I presume then that you would like to reject their request for independence?”
Twilight closed her eyes again. “More than just that. Send the Guards. Ensure that they know who allowed them to enjoy the gift of prosperity. Give them the ashes of Appleloosa and Las Pegasus as a warning.”
“Um, w-what ashes, my Princess?” the member cautiously inquired.
“Ashes that should have been there thousands of years ago.” She gestured a hoof to sights beyond the window, and beyond sight. “Equestria will be reclaimed in due time. I expect a full report and revitalization of our military by the week’s end. Do not disappoint me.”
A silence thickened in the throne room, as the council left quietly, one by one, until the only company with Twilight was the dust brightened by the sunlight. She lowered her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Oh Celestia, what have I done?” She gazed back up to the warming comfort of the sun. “What will I do about this?”
Twilight knew where this crusade of hers will end; in the same end shared by all the other wars, all the other catastrophes, and all of the other successes. Attempting to mend whatever inconceivable turn of events that lead to the present was futile, yet not impossible. The alicorn felt a great fatigue wash over her at the thought of it. For unimaginable periods and eras of time, she had proven herself the sole guardian of Equestria through a menagerie of apocalyptic scenarios.
Twilight let out a breath. “There’s no harm in trying one more time.”
Sparks erupting from her horn were followed by a crack of lightning that tore apart the air above. Within the rupture, a swirling void of unfathomable reality grew into a whirlpool of magic that threatened to collapse the castle. The alicorn braced herself and flew up into the portal towards an unreachable destination in a place where days never had yesterdays or tomorrows. The entities here never have been nor will they ever be, and Twilight lords over them as the paragon of being, never accepting the been or will be, forever heading to quixotic dreams through transitory paths.
Twilight woke up from her slumber. Dust had settled on her coat, tainting it the same color as the wasteland. Around her, the statues were smoothed from erosion, the Garden no longer flourished, and the gazebo ached from age. Her eyes were unblinking, wishing to cry for the death of her final legacy to the world, but no tears came. She had no reason to weep empty sorrows anymore.
Within the sandy fog, a green sapling shined at her with a pristine liveliness. She approached the lonely sapling and levitated a chunk of it’s sod from the planter. It seemed as if it were a floating island in the ether, its roots sticking out from the dirt and seeking any signs of a new homeland.
Carried in the aura of her magic, the sapling followed a flying Twilight to the ground below.
There were no cacti here. No souls extricated from the flesh roamed the wastes. Ruins returned to the earth whence they were built, and the land ceased to breathe anymore. Nothing had perturbed its fallow grounds in forevermore, leaving a nothing of anything used to survive and thrive here. Only the rare tree fossils and ragged rocks dotted the land. Twilight spotted a particular snag within a crumbling graveyard of trees.
It was no more than a torn stump, still resisting the passage of time, with clawing roots torn up from the dirt. Pieces of its crystalline bark littered the dry dirt around its base, revealing its polished interior. Throughout every upheaval, this particular tree always remained in this same place whether it was after the changelings starved, after the downfall of Sombra’s unstable empire, after the mutual annihilation of Equestria and the Badlands, after her nation consumed itself, or after any other unforeseeable calamity.
Despite the state of the word, the soil beneath the stump was rich with moisture and emanated an intangible magic. Twilight dug her hoof in the cool earth and placed the sod clump into the darkened orifice. Almost immediately, the sapling glowed a brilliant rainbow of colors that whirled about in the air. Magical chaos burst through the gloom and enlightened the world with vibrant gleam never before seen. The alicorn beamed in equal measure at the display, her eyes unable to focus on any singular ray of light.
As quickly as it appeared, the magical performance faded and the sapling’s features remained unchanged except for its slightly increased height and additional leaves. Twilight fell on her haunches with her mouth agape and eyes twitching. Her expression softened after several seconds of staring at the mystical plant..
“I guess I’m not meant to see what lies ahead.”
Slowly, she dragged herself over to the sapling to sit in front of it and the decrepit trunk. Around her, the wasteland mimicked a more familiar memory, one where Twilight and her friends never united together as the Elements of Harmony. She nickered at the thought. It seemed to not matter anymore whether she did or did not prevent that time tampering or her recent escapades, for all the paths lead back to here, this dead land. The alicorn closed her eyes and reflected on her ancient memoirs.
In truth, they should have finished long ago, but she refused to comply. The End approached day by day, page by page. Twilight did not know what the last words of her book of life would say, yet she was certain they held no answers and no truly concrete finale. Whatever aftermath that continued on will see an infinite amount of hardships and joy that she will never suffer or celebrate. Her pains and sacrifices are forgotten, along with her happiness and dreams. There was nothing else left for her anymore in this place.
The wizened alicorn whimpered softly as the sapling grew grander and taller each year. On the dusk of her concluding day, when the sapling had become a full grown tree, she finally was able to weep silently for the blissful ages of her forsaken kingdom until the sun set.
This is the land of ashes and dust. Of barren trees protruding from the famished soil and bleached bones hiding within miniature dunes of sand. Of endless horizons stretching to a forgotten end and unstable monuments towering over ancient ruins. Sounds only of vacuous winds flowed through the land, flinging clouds of sand about into the sky. The constant despondence of drab colors filtered by the foul air was only broken by the vibrant hues of mysterious and resilient cacti persisting in this wasteland, but even they began to succumb to the starving earth. Their dried carcusses dotted the ground over outstretched distances. For every lively cactus, one would see a graveyard of its gaunt and hollow relatives nearby, their needles brittled and skin rotting. This land is their hallowed resting place. A place once belonging to creatures of all kinds, now gone to other kingdoms.
This is the land of the cactus. Of the waning breath.
Princess Twilight Sparkle, ruling alicorn of all Equestria, gazed upon this land from the top of a crag. She focused on a singular point in the landscape; a large collection of ruined homesteads and factories. Railways cut swathes through the settlement and snaked off to unseen destinations and the numerous streets and paths of the town lead her eyes to its heart. She could see the skeletal remains of merchant shops, banks, markets, guilds, and taverns. At the center of this commercial district stood a statue, rusted and immemorial, of a pony and a buffalo sharing a pie. Near it, an extinguished campfire still smoldered and let plumes of smoke into the sky, its maker long gone.
Twilight sighed.
Though her reign had lasted for millennia, the past year seemed to have dragged on for hundreds of times longer. Everywhere she looked, she saw reflections of this town. She had hoped that other ponies or creatures remained, but even as she scoured through the first few portions of Equestria, Twilight knew that those hopes were misplaced. It was then, not now, that she found the one truth of the world. What was left of it.
With a flap of her wings, Twilight soared over the rubble and the empty expanse. While she flew, the desert followed. Where once it would give way to different environments, it now embedded itself throughout the lands. Even the great Everfree Forest, notorious for its wild abandon, was indistinguishable from any other place or its former self in this vast wasteland. There was a time when it consumed a majority of the archaic metropolises of the past, but, in these consequential, begotten days, Equestria’s decrepit and grandiose cities boasted branches more numerous and roots that stretched farther than that antediluvian woodland.
Twilight closed her eyes to shield them from the dust as she breached the hanging clouds of dirt. Although the cities of her kingdom were gone, one remained defiant of the desert’s influence. Canterlot’s ruins shone like a star, clean and vivid. Right under the bluff city was a blanket of dusty smog, acting as the ground’s new sky, that appeared to mirror the desert below it. However, no plants or creatures, alive or otherwise, existed in this vast, floating wasteland. Few mountains peaked through it, and Canterlot lorded over these desolate sierras. The alicorn descended into the Royal Capital.
The clopping of hooves echoed through the vacant streets. Each step taken unsettled the pavement and disturbed the dilapidated buildings. A mirthless smile crept on Twilight’s face as she recalled memories of her little ponies crowding around her whenever she travelled through the city. Some would prostrate, others would bump hooves with her, but regardless of how they demonstrated their affection, they all felt indebted to her, the protector of Equestria, the bulwark that allowed them to thrive in an idealistic fantasy of peace and prosperity. And after she greeted her subjects, the many foals would often lead her to the Garden, where she would regale them the tales of her adventures long ago, while the statues of her friends listened quietly.
No voices carried through the streets anymore. Nopony rushed to greet her. No foals were left to inspire.
The Garden still remained.
Twilight entered the sanctuary. The plants and flora were as lively as they were centuries ago despite their loneliness. A majestic gazebo housing the statues of heroes greeted the entrance and had paths that lead from it to the depths of the Garden. The alicorn trotted onto the platform and levitated from hidden tool-sheds a myriad of watering cans filled with magically summoned water. She guided the waters of life with practiced grace, nourishing the plants in record time.
Satisfied with her work, Twilight lounged in the shade of the gazebo, the cool breeze of the Garden, and the comforting gaze of her friends. Today was a special day now that she knew the fate of her homeland. The mare had no reason to leave for places that no longer existed in the present or future. She sighed a breath that carried on from the past. Her mind wandered onto familiar, scattered memories branded with failed attempts as dreams manifested.
