A couple of days after Tirek’s Attack.

“Tia, darling?”

She must have subconsciously casted the Memory spell in her sleep again.

But Celestia certainly wasn’t complaining.

“... Yes?” She murmurs back. Ignoring the internal command the Sun prompted through her weary existence, the white Alicorn rolled on to her side, benumbed eyes focusing on the translucent presence across her.

No, no, maybe this time he isn’t a dream. He looks too real.

He always felt real.

He then chuckled, the sound brutally scorching her heart. She cherished the pretty burn it left. The Memory character then continued, “I can look at that face all day. You’re truly stunning, my sweet. But you’re more breathtaking when you’re awake.”

The longer the Memory spell lasted, the more Celestia wanted to leave reality. She shouldn’t be seen like this. The Princess of the Sun, the Mare of the Morning Light, Solis Dea, scooting closer to a mere reverie to caress its non-existent face.

Everything about him is woven into her soul, not a loose thread of his crystalline eyes, or the darkened velvet map of his coat, or his streaked mane that reminded her of cornsilk.

Celestia stroked his cheek, her hoof never pressing too deep into the surface. She inhaled a quivering breath as she fully nuzzled his jaw, relishing the phantom sensation he returned to her.

“Even when I awaken in tears, my dearest?” She whispered.

His smile remained unwavering, not any less adoring just as before.

Even when I awaken everyday as a liar?

She grimaced.

To our own foal, no less?

As the clock gives birth to another hour, the Memory Spell wears off, replaced by her unfulfilled duty which waited by the east.

The translucent silhouette dissipated into a thousand sparks, rotting beautifully into nothingness.

Celestia scrambled on to her hooves and chased for the lone, persisting spark that drifted in the air before entirely disappearing. She sighs. This was unbecoming of her. It was already foolish enough to think he was actually there.

His name rots too much like a day that lasts for a thousand years.

Throwing away her thoughts, Celestia fully awakened and arose, disappointed, again.

Perhaps for eternity.

She is happy, don’t get her wrong. But its amount isn’t enough to flourish; it doesn’t even show on her face. The brightest expression she could master was a regal smile, and that alone isn’t always genuine. Happiness was simply a gem housed by a distant cave guarded by sacrifices, tragedies, and mistakes.

Something merely beyond her reach.

She grumbled. Maybe she didn’t throw her thoughts far enough. Time to do your job, Celestia.

She made her way to the balcony, then looked over the horizon. She could feel the solar weight gathering at every ounce of magic within her. She could feel the skies yawn and open its vivid eyes, like a soldier pulled out of his cot to salute to his captain. The clouds were a blushing pink, while the heavens were the calmest blue.

It was time to awaken Equestria.

“Good morning, my little sunshine,” She whispered, seemingly to no one, but she hoped for the greeting to be carried by the kind wind, so it could drift down from Canterlot, to the place where the particular recipient rested…

In the majestic abode of the Castle of Friendship.

“G’morning to you too, Spike,” Twilight groggily says with a heavy yawn. She parts from her bed, rubbing her eyes, “But what was the last part?”

To her surprise, Spike was still curled up in his basket, his blanket draped over his head as his lofty snores ensued throughout the room.

Twilight blinks, “... That’s weird.”

The princess shrugs and trotted to her vanity. Her horn sparks to life, a drawer opens, its lid encased in a magenta glow, and she fetches her hairbrush. She winces as she pulls on a series of tangles.

Not once looking at the mirror.

Once she was sure her mane was fixed, she walks to the other side of her room, to her towering shelves of books–

–or maybe her crystal wall of nothing.

“Right,” She huffed sadly, “It’s gone.”

And the word echoed, over and over again.

All gone.

“Just watching the sunrise then,” Twilight deadpanned, her shoulders sinking.

Twilight walks to the balcony, less eager now, but watching the sunrise always brought her solace for some reason. Sure, walking on the floor now felt cold to the touch because it isn’t the same, warm oak that she is used to, but it is to be a new day, and she wasn’t going to mope around and waste the rest of it.

The princess drowsily leans against the golden railing, forcing a smile to her face. This is a new life, and come on, Twilight, you should appreciate it.

She just would have appreciated it more if her former one was still in one piece, not in ashes.

Twilight shakes her head and fixes her somber posture, muttering, “The Sun is going to rise any second now. Not gonna miss it. Like y-your early reading session. Ugh, for crying out loud.”

She forces herself to face the sky.

Any moment.

Soothing beams of light washes over her entire figure and illuminated the crystals of the castle, whisking away her low spirits. Twilight squints and raises a hoof to shade her vision, yet remains watching the comforting display. The Sun’s rising rays raced across the streets and rooftops, like golden pathways gracing the ground and the clouds above, as if to promise hope, a chance to relish what the clock has to give.

The usual, gorgeous morning.

Before it became erratic.

Celestia was in flight, to amplify the way the Sun rose.

Then it almost felt like the Sun took a smaller form and slithered right into her heart.

Celestia let out a yelp of pain and clutched her chest, hoping the sudden twinge would cease and end, but it only became a searing ache that simply persisted and even brought tears to her eyes. The focus in her wings faltered, shattering her aerial stability. She does her best to somehow flutter them to ease herself in descending; she didn’t need to paralyze herself further with broken hooves, after all.

“S-sweet mother of me,” She gritted her teeth in anguish. The Princess of the Sun sloppily landed on her balcony, her body abuzz with painful heat. It was as if electricity and flames were whirling all across her entire body, the dizzying sensation threatening to send her straight to her grave.

Her nose wrinkled—smoke?

The smell was too potent not to notice. Celestia follows its misty trail and realizes it was coming from none other than her forelegs.

“What in Equestria… o-oh dear stars, it burns,” She nearly cried, her hoof flying to her chest once more. Her eyes widened to find her shoes melting into small pools of gold. The heat had even liquidated gold itself. Just how high was her temperature? She figured her connection to the Sun must have kept her from her death at this point. She was as good as fire. It’s odd how she isn’t obtaining any scalds, or burns on her coat.

What is happening?

Regardless of the escalating vigor of pain, Celestia kept her enchanted grip around the Sun, though it was obvious her magic was fluctuating.

Because the Sun definitely did NOT stay still.

“What’s wrong with the Sun?” Twilight gasped.

The sight was a mess. Twilight secretly prayed for everypony else to remain indoors and in bed as she watched the Sun go left and right, north and south—ow, she squinted and threw a hoof to hover over her eye.

Watching the Sun go back and forth only made her panic worsen, for there was a better question:

What’s wrong with Celestia?

Coming to a decision, Twilight spread her wings and flew off from the castle, murmuring determinedly, “I’ll be right back, Spike.”

Celestia didn’t know how long she could take this agony.

Her hooves have already formed scorch marks on the floor, and even her crown and her chestplate have melted into puddles of gold. She had managed to keep the Sun where it should be, though her horn was uncontrollably whirring. Celestia had disconnected her magic from the Sun before she could cause any more chaos with its position, yet the pain combined with the concentration required to keep the Sun stable exhausted her energy rapidly.

A sudden thought then occurred to her.

Where was Luna?

She helplessly shoves the question away as the pain heightened.

Her eyes feebly strayed to the sky, as she contemplated if she should seek the Royal Guard; but she didn’t want anypony hurt with her ballistic temperature.

A flying lavender silhouette practically shot through the sky, its violent speed piercing the morning wind.

Pigeons certainly don’t rival lightning.

Behind its figure formed a bright pink star, drawing across the heavens with a vicious ‘boom.’

“T-twilight?”

She was definitely not mistaken.

But was it just an illusion or Twilight looked… different?

Her observation however was disrupted once the pain drew her back to what could be worse than Tartarus. Oh,perhaps death would be a bed of Roses by now.

In spite of the torture, some part of Celestia smiled as she watched the Princess of Friendship land smoothly in front of her with a worried (and of course, panicked) look on her face. Maybe not.

“Princess!”

A brief, adoring aura settled in Celestia’s exhausted gaze which focused on the approaching mare.

“I saw the Sun and flew here as fast as I could because taking the train would take toooo long and I was–”

“Stay back p-please,” Celestia rasped, not wanting to cause any unintended harm to the newcomer.

Twilight backs away immediately, noticing the deepening prints on the floor and the ruined regalia, “–worried. Princess, are you alright? Where does it hurt? I think we should get you to the hospit–”

The Princess of the Sun let out a startled cry as magic dominated her entire form. Her amethyst eyes glowed blinding white, whilst golden, shimmering tendrils of magic surged from the bottom of her hooves then gathered at her horn. She then shivered, for a short while, before her body swiftly absorbed the magic, each enchanting trail of gold sinking down to where her heart beats now at a regular pace.

The blinding light from her eyes receded back to their normal appearance, while the pain finally ended.

Alongside her stamina.

Balance left her hooves, yet before Celestia could collapse, Twilight dashed to her side and held her foreleg.

“Careful,” Twilight frowned, “I think you need to get some rest.”

“T-thank you, Twilight, but,” Celestia weakly shook her head, “I’m afraid I’ve left my duties unattended long enough.”

Twilight plays along, a mischievous smile curving her lips. “May I at least get you to the throne room, Princess?”

Celestia nods, “If it’s not too much trouble.” Her hooves felt too much like pudding for her to refuse her former student’s offer.

Twilight eagerly assisted her to the inside of her room. Once the pair reached the door that led to the hallways, Celestia was about to reach the knob, until Twilight gently patted her hoof down.

“Allow me.”

In a flash, Celestia was encased in a bubble of fuchsia, and before she knew it, she was tucked in bed and an enchanted lock was cast over the door.

“And what does this mean, young lady?” Celestia jokes with a faux serious tone.

“This means you need to rest,” Twilight replies pointedly, “This is your health, Princess. I think Equestria can wait until you’re feeling better.”

“I suppose I can use a few hours,” Celestia sighs, sagging against a pillow.

Levitating the tea pot to pour some chamomile into a cup, Twilight shakes her head worriedly, “Or an entire day. What happened earlier clearly needs a diagnosis.”

Celestia accepts the offered beverage, as her eyes widen, “An entire day? Twilight dear, I don’t think I can–”

“Princess, you’ve ruled Equestria for over a thousand years. Surely spending a day taking a break wouldn’t cause any conundrum for the Day Court?” Twilight sheepishly asks, “I’m here, you know. And Princess Luna. Besides, I can take a letter to Spike and have him run my errands for today, and maybe I can help out–”

Celestia opted to use her wing, but she couldn’t let Twilight see the water gathering in her eyes. This was one of the few times she could embrace her this way.

The rarest of chances she could show her that she was the daughter she never had.

Raised.

Kept.

Stop, Celestia.

“Don’t worry about me,” Celestia pulls away slowly, quelling the urge to let her voice wobble like her composure, “Really, Twilight. I’m fine. I’m not the one who just battled Tirek. I should be the one checking you.”

Twilight blushes, looking down bashfully, “I’m just as okay, Princess.”

“You haven’t even seen yourself in the mirror,” Celestia chuckled.

“Huh? What do you mean? Is it my mane? Oooh this is so embarrassing! Although I remember brushing it, I was in a hurry because I didn’t want to miss the sunrise!”

A surge of warmth rushed through the white mare. She likes the sunrise.

Twilight frantically walks to the mirror, expecting to see an untamed bedhead.

Her jaw dropped and hung agape.

Celestia slides off the bed and stands behind her former student, her swelling pride now in full display on her face. Wrapping a wing around the young mare, she grins, “You grew up way too fast to my liking, to be honest.”

Yes, it was definitely her mane—and her tail, her horn, her height, her everything.

Her height elevated so drastically she is certain she’s now as tall as Cadence is. But it isn’t just that, her mane, was what also took her breath away. There was no ethereal wind blowing her locks like her mentor’s, yet it had grown way, way longer than she remembered that her mane nearly reached her hooves. Her wing span has also increased in accordance to her new weight and height.

Then it was as if the stars had placed themselves and scattered across her hair, making it look… so enchanting. She never thought she would describe her mane with such a grand word, but her mane’s new appearance looked absolutely astonishing, and her luscious tail looked every bit as divine.

Before she could have the ability to speak once more, she found something else.

A familiar blond streak accompanied the pink and purple ones in her mane and tail.

“... I.. I’ve had this blond streak before. It appeared during my battle with Tirek—but I thought it was just temporary, because the girls changed too and then changed back, and why am I–what is this… j-just–WHAT?”

“You have attained your cosmic appearance, Twilight.”

“Cosmic appearance? What do you mean?”

Celestia’s horn glows brightly, and she winces, as if she reopened a fresh wound. Clearly her prior episode of agony left a mark.

A magical makeshift figure of Luna appears before them, it resembles her with a shorter and regular mane.

“Luna and I did not always look like this, Twilight. Before we raised the Sun and Moon, there was no ethereal wind blowing our manes, and Luna’s mane did not look like the embodiment of the night sky. When Starswirl the Bearded and the other unicorns permanently lost their magic because of regularly raising the Sun and Moon, he told us that Luna and I are Equestria’s only hope to bring back light to the lands. Starswirl informed us that as Alicorns, raising the Sun and Moon will not drain our magic or our own energy but would even rejuvenate it. Luna and I gained our cosmic appearances after the first time we controlled our respective celestial objects, and that was also the time we obtained our cutie marks. After that, we were able to restore Starswirl and the other unicorns’ magic. In the simplest way, Twilight, our cosmic appearance is caused by our magic manifesting itself into our bodies, then its manifestation bears supernatural and physical changes to them.”

Twilight’s eyes sparkles as she points a hoof at the glimmering silhouette of Luna, “This was her natural form? The one we saw after Nightmare Moon’s defeat?”

Celestia nods, “Indeed. She returned from her imprisonment with lower levels of her magic, thus, she needed more time to regain her cosmic image by redeveloping her natural magic that once was dark. As for Cadence, her cosmic appearance only appears when the Crystal Empire is overwhelmed with the love that keeps the Crystal Heart running, the empire’s victory against Sombra for example. Her magic signature differs from ours, so her crystalline form only presents itself according to the Crystal Heart’s state.”

Twilight still felt awfully befuddled. “But what about me, Princess? How did I transform? Is this permanent?”

“Yes, it is certainly permanent. As for your prior question—when you and your friends battled Tirek, perhaps there was so much power flowing within you that bore this beautiful result.”

Twilight stares at her mentor in awe, then looks back at her reflection. She traced every spec of her new physical form, still too stunned to speak.

Until she heard a long suppressed sniff.

The Princess of Friendship turned to the co-ruler of Equestria in disbelief with a surprised smile, “Are you crying?”

“How can’t I, my… my faithful student,” Celestia allowed herself to laugh, albeit tearfully.

She did her best to contain the waterworks during Twilight’s coronation, but this was a new high—and Twilight’s nearby presence didn’t make it any less harder to contain her emotions.

“You barely reached half of my hooves when you were a little filly.”

Twilight looked down on her feet shyly upon her mentor’s words. She knew Celestia is naturally motherly as a crowned sovereign who has thousands to millions of subjects as her children, but it endeared her to find that her former teacher always had a significant spot for her.

“Now you are everything I knew you would become,” Celestia added whilst modestly wiping her eyes, “Perhaps your growth was just too fast in my perspective because I’m not always by your side…”

Celestia steers her gaze away from the younger mare, her warm smile ceasing. A melancholic shadow swallows her former demeanor as she levitates the room’s curtains to close.

“Especially the times when you needed me.”

Twilight retorted quickly with a gasp, “That’s not true! You are always there when I need guidance.”

“I’ve come to think—not that I believe you are inadequate—that sometimes I should provide more than guidance, Twilight. Because I am your…”

Reluctance took over the reins of Celestia’s tongue.

What else was she supposed to say?

“Your mentor. I have failed you, multiple times, and yet each time something is amiss either with Equestria or, for today’s case, myself, you come bolting to me.”

The older alicorn’s stare drilled onto Twilight’s, guilt decorating every corner of her gaze. Twilight looked back at her in wistful disagreement.

“I have been with you ever since you were a nervous filly settling into the castle as my protegé. From here, I tell you, that your existence is immensely precious to me. I have failed to make what I said evident to you, Twilight, and each time I promise myself I will finally be more present, my shortcomings prevent me from doing so.”

Tears sprouted and rapidly cascaded down Twilight’s cheeks.

Celestia treasures her.

But there is more than what meets the eye,

Because Celestia—in spite of the very first time she had failed Twilight eternally, seventeen years ago before Nightmare Moon's return—had always loved her.

Even from afar.

A new dawn of an expression colors Celestia’s face. Celestia lets out the breath she has been nervously holding, then steps back from the Princess of Friendship with a ghost of a smile.

“I’ll try harder this time, my faithful student. But if I do not succeed again, then my faults are doubled forever. And sometimes even the infinite does not grant second chances.”

“You’ve never done such a thing, Princess,” Twilight interjects, “You have nothing to be exceedingly apologetic for.”

Celestia bitterly shook her head, and didn’t speak any further.

Twilight’s pupils dilated when Celestia planted a motherly kiss on top of her head, just above her hair, before she added an affectionate nuzzle.

“Trust me, Twilight. I have long engraved my mistakes to my heart. I’ve also taken too much of your time already. I’ll see you at the Victory Party tonight.”

At the mention of the upcoming event which is approximately eleven hours from beginning, the Princess of Friendship froze upon realization.

“The party. My dress. Ohmygoshohmygosh I’m going to be late, I need to get to Rarity’s!” Twilight rambles, sitting back on her haunches and dragging her hooves down her face in panic.

“I’m so sorry, Princess, but I’m going to be tardy!”

“No worries, Twilight. Thank you so much for coming here.”

After hugging her mentor one last time, Twilight sets off into the skies, waving goodbye.

Until you finally find the meaning of my guilt, Twilight,

I’ll hold you tighter than I did before I gave away the role I should have put first before you became a crying glimpse.

A mother.

Author's Note

Aaand that's a wrap! I'm so sorry everyone for not updating for so long—the pursuit of academia never took little of my time. What could Tia be hiding?

Introducing two new characters! Special kudos to my little sister who helped me bring my imagination to life by drawing my two original characters who are both going to play crucial parts in the story.

Arcane Starworth

First Lieutenant of the Royal Guard: Astral "Aster" Specter