In the End, There is Light in the Darkness
Far from Equestria, we alighted in fresh snow.
I vividly recall the weather in particular: dark clouds pressed to a dark sky. Our pegasus entourage said nothing, but I felt it in my hooves, just as they felt it in their wings; feral magic had claimed old Cloudsdale skies.
“Let us tarry not,” Star Swirl commanded. The bells on his robe chimed in the coming gale above, and the sound jingled further across the vastness of white ocean in our wake. “This is no place for us.”
“Nor the ponies ahead,” I added as I trudged to his side.
His neck swung to me, eyes as sharp as his horn.
Star Swirl has two looks: the jovial, collected eyes of the scholar who mentored me through the Long Cold; and the annoyance of the stressed unicorn hermit who preferred tomes to company.
He showed the latter.
“Semantics, fair Clover. I retain my doubts as to the presence of ponies in this terrible place.”
“I disagree. And think, for if we did not look at all, what would the tribes say of our effort to build kingdom? Ponies would hesitate to seek us, unlike the ones, here.”
The soldiers moved to the valley ahead. Only then did Star Swirl break his stare.
The valley funneled right for a cavern. We greeted the dark entrance with calls for lanterns and light. No resistance was met.
The cave was not so ancient, or rather, not untouched. Subterranean air had frosted to the ceiling in icy crystals: breath. The warm drip of its melt percolated along stony ridges, while the chill of the north kept cool. It was a telltale sign, but a sign nonetheless. It ignited a flame in my heart, and I pressed close to Star Swirl to whisper my faith.
My flame was snuffed suddenly as the tunnel fed toward a desolate sight.
Dozens of ramshackle pull-carts had been parked to the walls. Every last splinter of wood had been plucked from their frames, the useless scraps left in great piles to succumb to a frozen never-rot. What did rot were the sacks and crates that had once ferried foodstuffs. A caravan had been assembled, here, and just as easily disassembled.
“Decay and discord. Our efforts are wasted,” Star Swirl whispered darkly. “We dally here in the past.”
“Survivors,” I pledged quickly, lest my own heart falter as far. “Ponies to join Equestria.”
“And those bound to flee again.”
“No. To have held in a place like this, and to have sent such letters—”
“—using my magic.”
“...There is hope to be found here, Star Swirl. Ponies who protect their own, just as we seek to protect and serve Equestria.”
The ruins of the apparent campground enveloped us. Our hooves echoed on the stone, and lanterns and lit horns revealed extinguished torches and fires. I did not reflect on what had brought the end.
“There is nothing,” a soldier muttered.
“There must be.” I tugged on the hems of my cloak. “There must be.”
Dreams for the cave to branch off sapped to nothing. One final route.
One end. Dead.
I swallowed, hurrying to take the lead.
Star Swirl’s voice boomed. “Who is it we seek?“
The soldiers replied in turn.
“Lo, these gem-studded cloths are a unicorn’s work.”
“Those spears are of Cloudsdale make.”
“Aye, but these bags are full of old seeds. Earth ponies.”
And the letters writ on Equestrian paper.
The end of the cave crept up from the dark. But no ponies leapt up before us.
I stood woozy, eyes up on the gray stone of the cave wall. My heart beat so slow that I thought myself as still as the dark figures huddled on the floor, trapping us. I dared not peer closer.
“Clover.” Star Swirl spoke tersely, his hoof on my withers. “We should away.”
Then, from the lifeless dark, movement.
We stood in silence as it rose. It reared its head, and bared its wings. And when it lit its horn...
Your white muzzle peeked out at us.
“Did father bring you? Mother isn’t feeling well.”
You spread a wing, cradling your sister.
“Nor Luna.”
And amid the dark, your smile burned bright.
