Arboreal Grieving

“Do you think people are remembered after they, well, you know, pass?”

“Of course they are! I remember each and every one of my subjects fondly.”

“But for how long?”

“For as long as I shall live.”

“And you’re not worried you’ll forget?”

“Never.”

The day was ending. Soft orange light peered through ornate stained glass windows, giving the room the feeling of a dying flame. A kaleidoscope of faces dotted the windows, all different. A chaotic monster, mismatched and malevolent. An alabaster alicorn, set aside a midnight blue sister. A queen full of holes, a nightmarish insectoid invader. A lavender face, surrounded by friends.

The long royal hall was completed by a regal raised throne at the end, with two remaining ponies. One, seated on the throne, was very tired. The other, a short servant reading off of a checklist.

“The royal petitioners seek another hour of counsel, your majesty.” A pale mare, white as bone with a jet black mane, waited at the hoof of the Solar Princess with a checklist.

A white hoof pressed against a forehead. “Tell them they are denied, but that they are permitted to reconvene tomorrow.” Golden magic lifted up a small teacup, still simmering.

The servant rose to attention. “It will be done, your majesty.”

The alabaster ruler nodded her head for dismissal. “Thank you, Raven.” She took a sip of her tea, jasmine if she recalled correctly. Deliciously, swelteringly hot, but she was used to both the heat and the flavor. A question occurred to her. “Oh, Raven, is there anything more on the schedule? I feel that I am weary of the court for now.”

Raven shook her head, giving a sympathetic smile. “No, there’s nothing more for today. Enjoy your evening, Princess.” She bowed, and grabbed the various mountains of paperwork in her magic. Giving Celestia one final salute, she disappeared behind the throne to leave through the servants’ entrance.

Making sure to hear the old door creak closed, Celestia let out a deep sigh of relief. She stretched out her hooves, feeling the joints creak in thanks. Now lying languidly on the throne, she had a soft giggle. Not very princessly of you, Celestia, she thought. With a mental shrug, she downed the rest of the tea, placing the cup to her side. A sudden pinch on her neck muscles painfully reminded her of the torc, which she immediately dislodged and pulled off. Tossing the golden neck arrangement to the side, she rose, yawning slightly.

I should probably get to bed sometime after sunset, Celestia thought. Twilight would’ve-

She stopped herself. It did no good to think of those things. Celestia shook her head, clearing away the intrusive thoughts.

Celestia lazily stepped down from her throne, dragging her torc behind her in a golden field. Slowly but surely, she made her way down the hall, the clacking of her horseshoes echoing unpleasantly. She kept her gaze downwards, avoiding the eyes of the stained glass windows. She almost made it to the ornate doorway without looking up.

A lavender glint caught her eye, and before she could stop herself, she glanced upwards. The sky was more red then orange, now, and it reflected through the glass panes in a dark velvet light. The window commemorating her sister’s redemption looked all the same, pristine as the day it was finished.

Celestia’s eyes were drawn to a particular figure near the left side. Surrounded by the Elements’ magic, Twilight Sparkle peered at Celestia from beyond, her mane still that deep purple - unmarred by grey streaks - that Celestia had loved. It was a simple representation, but the memories it drudged up brought a soft smile to Celestia’s face.

Celestia was brought back to her senses as the sun tugged at her mind, urging her to keep schedule. As she dutifully pulled the sun over the horizon, like she had done so many times before, Celestia realized how much she valued that stained glass window, and the many legacies of Twilight Sparkle that were just like it. How many times had she reminisced today looking into them? Yesterday? The past year? Regretfully, she took one last look at the window, its crystallized figures darkening until she could see nothing but the barest hint of color.

Celestia slowly trotted towards the softly lit doors, the torches automagically lighting with a dim purple flame. Barely registering the guards, who saluted respectfully as she passed, Celestia pondered the state of Twilight Sparkle’s legacy.