Dear Princess Celestia,
I hope this letter finds you well. Or that it even finds you in the first place. I know it’s been many moons, and while I suppose time passes a little differently for you, I would still like to apologise for not contacting you sooner. For a while I was lulling myself with the idea that you yourself wouldn’t like to hear from me again, but let’s be fair, neither of us had any closure since that day and, unlike you, I only have so long to make amends.
On that day, I experienced the lowest of lows and the highest of highs in my life. I’m sure Spike wouldn’t believe it, but what I felt from making things right was so overwhelming, I cannot even put it into words. Even now, so many years later, my heart still beats a little faster and I feel a sort of uncanny tingling in my spine when I remember the joy and relief I saw on my friends’ faces as they became one with their marks once more.
With this in mind, you might imagine just what state of mind I was in when you whisked me away to that ethereal plane and proposed that, with a mere nod of my head, I could live my life as an alicorn from then on. The sensation was like pouring an ocean into an already overflowing cup. The promise of limitless time to spend on learning and a mastery over magic only those of your likeness possess… The word “Yes!” was practically ripping itself out of my throat. And had I still been the same young filly as I was before Princess Luna’s return, I don’t think I would have hesitated any longer than a moment. That nagging scholar in me you worked so hard to temper was ready to ascend in heart and soul.
But you know what? You succeeded in tempering her a little too well.
Because even if that side of me was ready to throw everything aside, the me who spent all that time with my friends wasn’t. I think the moment you showed me all those sweet memories of our adventures was the point where it crystallised in me clearer than anything I knew to that point: Twilight Sparkle would live a unicorn mare and would die as one.
At the time I couldn’t put the ‘why’ into words. Any haphazard excuses I could have spouted on the spot died in my mouth when my friends rushed in to console me over my “failure”. I remember you didn’t stay for long. You stood a step away from me, both in body and in mind, catching a single glance of me before you quickly looked away and excused yourself.
If you had any doubts, let me dispel them now. I knew it from the get go, that it was over. With all due respect, Princess, while your millennial cunning always let you stay ten steps ahead of everypony, that little glimmer of disgust and disappointment in your eye I saw before you hurriedly took off betrayed you. It was a visceral, almost instinctual reaction, not something any pony could hide, no matter their skill or age.
What followed during the next few days or perhaps even weeks, you must forgive me for not being in the right state of mind at the time to remember, was me feeling like I was taken apart into tiny little pieces and realising those pieces could no longer fit together. Until that point, I always had smaller goals, be that some mundane daily chore, the protection of my friends, or the furthering of my studies, but all of these were nothing compared to the looming, almost reverent need to live up to your standards.
And yet the source of my anguish wasn’t even the fact that I failed. Since, in the strictest sense, I didn’t. It wasn’t that I failed to reach alicornhood, rather that, whether consciously or subconsciously I’m still yet to figure out, I refused its gift.
No, the reason for my pain was the fact that I felt like I did the right thing. Only there wasn’t any great plan behind this refusal. No Nightmare Moon to stop by playing right into your hooves. Your expression and the fact that you’ve never once sought me out since told me that much. I simply failed you and my life until that point was shattered.
I must admit, that picking up the pieces dwarfed all my previous battles. In the beginning I often felt like there was no point in even bothering to try. Yet something deep in me, that I didn’t understand at the time, told me I could not wallow in misery forever. So I willed myself back into the world. Within a year even my friends thought I was alright. I learned to live again, to study again, to laugh and play, I even managed to take part in the next Winter Wrap-Up. By almost all means I was back to my old self. But inside, I was still harbouring a turmoil. That dreaded ‘why’.
Why did I say no? Why did I throw away what other ponies could never even dream of achieving? Why did I defy you?
Occasionally, I found myself unable to sleep, kept awake by these thoughts or the fact that one day I will lie down and never get up again. That I had the opportunity to look Death in the eyes and say “No, thank you” and I walked away. But it was this very fear, combined with my day to day life, that ultimately gave me answer.
As one of the Bearers of the Elements and, far more importantly, a friend to them all, the loss of finality on my end would have robbed us all of just how special and unique our friendship truly is.
Consider for instance Applejack and her first foal. She has grown up to be a beautiful and healthy mare, more than befit the Apple name, just like her mother. Despite my strong insistence, she still checks in on me every once in a while, even though nothing binds us beyond me being Applejack’s friend.
Had I ascended that day, things would be so much different. It wouldn’t have been a joyous, once in a lifetime occasion to meet the newest little twig of family and see Rainbow’s badly-hidden tears of joy when AJ asked her to be the foal’s Sunmother. No, in short time it would have become a burden of watching and watching out for an entire, continuously-growing lineage of ponies, whose connection to me would have waned more and more with each generation, until all sense of why my connection with the Apples is special would’ve ended up lost.
And when it comes to Rainbow herself, in my and many other ponies’ eyes, she is truly one in a million. I’m convinced Equestria will speak of her for generations to come, long after either of us are gone. But while generations are unfathomably long for us, I’m sure I don’t have to explain it to you, that to an immortal it’s nothing more than a blink of an eye.
There will come a day when somepony would rise to surpass even Rainbow Dash and she will end up relegated to the one place she never-ever would have liked to end up at—the dusty pages of a history book. I could not deny the new star’s fame, but I also could not bear to see my friend be wiped away like that.
Or to see Rarity’s couture be deemed old and unfashionable, unaware of how each and every one of those pieces were made to fit a pony perfectly. Or the loss of that whirlwind menace of balloons and sugar we all know by the name Pinkie Pie, and to see the world forget her unforgettable parties and how much she looked out for us all. Or the thought of having to face Fluttershy’s animals and explain to them without even a fraction of the grace and eloquence she possesses, that their caretaker will never return. Grief is a part of our life, but nopony should be forced to grieve for so many.
But all of these are nothing compared to one thought that kept haunting me—what if I was approaching things from the wrong way all along? What if my friends really aren’t that unique? I am repulsed by the very idea, but the Elements need their Bearers. They aren’t mere tools and we’ve long suspected they have a mind of their own. Their use in the wrong hooves is ineffective at best and disastrous at worst. So now that they have been awakened again, I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that they will always find a pony who is Kind, one who is Loyal, Honest, Generous, and one who can best embody Laughter.
So why would Magic be any different? Who am I to force stagnation on a system that’s meant to flow from one generation to the next? Could I even form the same deep bond with the new Bearers, as I did with the girls? With all the dangers looming over us every day, I’m sure there would be plenty of pressure on us all and I refuse to think the concerns of national security are a good source of genuine relationships. And even if I could pass my Element on, I would always be reminded of what I’ve lost, whenever I gazed upon my own mark.
So that is why. I never took you as cruel and I still don’t believe you are. No, I’m sure what you attempted to do was kindness on your behalf. However, I cannot shake the idea that you’re ancient enough that you might not even remember these feelings I’m grappling with or that your heart has long hardened to these problems. If so, I couldn’t even blame you for it, I’m certain mine would too. Maybe even faster than yours, I know I don’t deal well with stress and pain. But I simply cannot be that pony. I cannot just play my part because the moment I do I sacrifice Twilight the unicorn, just so Twilight the alicorn may be born. Even today, when the breeze of mortality I feel on myself has already grown to a steady wind, I would refuse. It’d be a cruelty to us all.
I never expected it, but Spike proved to be the most helpful in putting my feelings into words. He was the one who also convinced me to finally write this letter. Even though I was back on my hooves, I felt so utterly alone in my situation. None of the girls could empathise, even if they all sympathised with me. This was simply not their burden to bear. I couldn’t talk to you or Luna, and I felt like it would be cruel to discuss this with Cadence as she had already made her choice. But dragons live centuries more than ponies. And as much as Spike is my little brother, he had grown to be quite the capable adult, with a much smarter head on his shoulders than many would give him credit for.
He was far more understanding than I was hoping for and after I finally broke and told him all that has been hanging over me like a dark shade, he simply pulled me into a hug. We stayed like that for a while, before, through quite a few tears of his own, he echoed each and every one of my worries, even if in the grand scale of things his lifespan is like measuring candlelight to your Sun. And if he’s terrified from a few centuries, how could I cope with millennia?
This will be my last letter to you. As I’ve hinted before, I don’t know how much time I may have left. Certainly not enough to wait for you too long, nor to live what remains with regret. Especially when I wouldn’t even be the pony who carries these regrets the longest. And, while you may think that carrying these is a part of who you are now, I don’t think these pains should outlive me. So, if you could oblige an old mare with a visit, I wouldn’t mind lifting this burden off your shoulders in return of seeing your radiance again.
Your still-faithful ex-student,
Twilight Sparkle
