“Again!” Twilight barked, her voice as ragged as she looked.

Her flank was matted and red.

The Elements formed up around her, and one by one they were again lifted into air on a glowing corona of magical light. Honesty, Kindness, Laughter, Generosity, Loyalty. Last came Magic.

Again Twilight's horn spat and sparked and clawed for purchase against the invisible plane of magical energy that fueled its craft. Again Twilight’s face twisted into a rictus of pain and exertion, trying to channel magic through shattered ivory. Again her horn released a blast of energy that sent her sprawling across the floor, her friends dropped just as clumsily out of the air.

Twilight groaned and rose to her hooves, slower at it than the time before. “Again!” She shouted, again, again.

This time, nopony moved.

Starlight just watched. There was nothing she could do here, she had done everything she could, and this was the end of the line. More than anything, she was preoccupied with moving as little as possible. Everything ached at a minimum, and her broken foreleg was frighteningly numb.

“Didn't you hear me? Again! We need to keep trying until this works!”

Applejack had cleared the distance between the two of them, and she set a hoof at Twilight's shoulder, “Twi, I'm startin’ think it's not gonna work. Maybe it's best we start considering our options.”

“Yeah, nothing coming our way yet but that hive is definitely buzzing,” Rainbow Dash called from the ceiling where she was peeking out of the hole Starlight and the other Twilight had left on entry.

“No! We're not giving up, this has to work!” Twilight punctuated this by stomping her hoof into the floor. She yelped and nearly fell over when her hoof went straight through the top layer of floorboards. She was caught and steadied by Applejack, but it was clear the surprise had broken her composure. “It has to…”

Applejack gently guided Twilight into a huddle with the other Elements. Starlight was left out. She wasn't an Element, and the huddle was over there while she was stuck aching and immobile over here.

But that was fine.

It was fine, because this was all her fault. It was fine, because she'd screwed up. It was fine that she was left out, because she'd let everypony down after they finally trusted her.

Increasingly, it wasn't fine. It had been a long time since thoughts of failure and inadequacy had swarmed her, plagued her to this extent. Not since Our Town. Not since Twilight Sparkle and her friends had taken everything she had built. When she had plucked out all those feelings of worthlessness and despair and ground it all into a core of molten rage. Rage at Twilight Sparkle for everything she had done, rage at the world for the life it had given her.

She couldn't do that this time. There was no outlet, nowhere to lay the blame but at her own hooves. Her reliable well of fury, the emotion she had held onto so long, to sharpen her mind, to make her purpose certain, the well had run dry. She wasn't angry, she couldn't even be angry with herself.

She was just disappointed.

So she sat as fierce whispers drifted free of the formation across the room, never clear enough to make out the words. She sat, alone with her thoughts, alone with this lump of undeniable failure lodged in her heart.

She was so certainly, so entirely alone with her thoughts, that she hadn't even noticed Spike sit down beside her.

He hadn't said anything. She wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there without saying anything, but he took notice of her when she took notice of him. She wasn't sure what to say, so she went with ol’ reliable.

“Here to foalsit me?”

A joke. Not even very inspired. She couldn't even fake a smile for it.

“You do a good job getting beat up when nopony is looking.” Spike kept his eyes on the huddle, but it was a relief to hear him quipping.

“Well the good news is that it'll be much easier for my friends to keep an eye on me now that I can hardly walk.”

Spike didn't respond. After a moment, she glanced at him. He was staring, jaw open wide.

“What?”

His open mouth stretched into a grin, “What was that you just called them?”

Starlight rolled her eyes. Really? “Fine, yes, I called them my friends. After going on a big old world-saving adventure, I got close to the ponies around me. You caught me. Happy? You wanna be my friend too?”

Spike was still looking insufferably smug, “We both know I already am.”

Starlight sighed and couldn't help but smile at that, “Yeah, you are. Maybe my best friend, but if you tell anypony that, I'll deny it.”

Spike mimed a zipper across his lips, and their conversation lapsed into silence. They were both watching the huddle. Something about the tone had shifted while they talked. Rather than whispers of fierce debate, the Elements had rallied around their princess, doing their best to comfort the alicorn.

It was painful to scoot half an inch closer to Spike. If he noticed, he didn't show it.

“Things aren't looking good, huh.”

Spike shook his head.

“It's all my fault.” She mumbled. That wasn't to him. That was for herself.

Still, Spike shook his head again.

“Look, I appreciate the friendship thing now, really I do, but we can both see the facts. I'm the reason we're here in the first place, and I wasn't strong enough to stop the other Twilight.”

“Look, does it even matter anymore?” Spike gave her a look so fierce that it blindsided her.

“O-of course it matters,” She stuttered, surprised by him, “Somepony has to take the fall, right?”

Spike’s look grew a fraction more annoyed, “But they don't! You and Twilight both, on and on this whole time about how it's all your own fault, how you feel so guilty for what you did, but none of that's gonna fix anything! It doesn't make me feel any better when you say stuff like that, so who are you saying it for?”

Starlight blinked at him. She couldn't make sense of it. “I'm supposed to apologize for… That's the whole friend thing, I thought…” She croaked out.

“We're way past apologies. Knowing whose fault it was that we're stuck here forever doesn't mean we're not stuck,” Spike’s voice wavered, his fierce expression cracking, tears beading at the corners of his eyes, “I wanna go home, Starlight.”

Starlight didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to do. Nopony had ever looked at her like that. No creature had ever needed comfort from her like that. It didn't matter. This was her friend, she had to do something for him, anything.

Her one good foreleg– and good was a generous word, it was at least as bruised as the rest of her– wrapped around Spike and tugged him against her chest. She held him there, tight. When tears found their way to her eyes too, she blamed it on the pain. When her voice cracked, she blamed her broken ribs, “Spike, we'll figure something out. We'll get you home. I promise.”

It was an empty promise. It was trite and worthless and it felt right to say, right enough that she could almost feel it. Sometimes you had to put on a brave face.

Starlight felt her fur dampen. Spike was sobbing quietly. She held him there until the trembling stopped.

When she released him, he looked up at her, face wet, snot leaking from his nose, “You don't believe that one bit.”

She did her best to smile for him, “Sure I do. If Sparkle over there is throwing in the towel, somepony has to be the last one left hoping, right?”

“She's not done yet, she's just… Out of ideas, I guess.”

Starlight wasn't so sure. The way Twilight was half-leaning half-sprawled atop the Map wasn't an optimistic look. She looked about as bad as Starlight really felt.

“Would you mind grabbing her for me? The huddle seems done-for.”

Spike nodded, taking a few steps away, “I hope you've got a better pep talk planned for her than me.”

She chuckled, refreshingly light in contrast to how heavy the mood was, “I've got no plan at all, but recently I've been surprising myself.”

Spike scurried away and tugged at Twilight’s wing. She lifted her head, then looked at Spike, and then looked at Starlight. Starlight couldn't help but notice the way the alicorn's eyes sparkled, slick with tears. Waterworks for everypony today.

Twilight trotted over, and she was talking before Starlight could even get a word out, “Oh sweet Celestia, Starlight, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault! We're all gonna be trapped forever and it's all because I cast that stupid spell, oh I should have listened to Spike all along but noooo, this is real magic Spike, I know real magic, and look where it got us! If it weren't for me, we'd be–”

“Somewhere worse, probably,” Starlight interjected, feeling guilty. Twilight didn't notice.

“– back at home, in the castle. If I'd just tried a little harder to reach you, but I didn't! I was so upset, and so scared that we almost ended up– I just cast the spell instead, and everything went wrong, and I hurt you, the pony I wanted to help, most of all! I should've known better–”

“Twilight?”

“– But I didn't! And now I have to live with the consequences. This is my punishment for one big stupid mistake, the Tree of Harmony is punishing me, the Map is, and because of me, you're gonna–”

“Twi.”

“– You're gonna, I don't even know! Or I know, but I don't want to say it, because that's all my fault too, because I let you get separated in the hive, because I left you behind to fight to fix my mistake, and I just–”

“Twilight!” Starlight shouted, loud enough to draw eyes from around the room, “Shut up!”

Twilight shut up, looking at Starlight with the saddest, wettest puppy-dog eyes.

“Sorry. I meant be quiet. Please.”

Twilight was silent, tears threatening to make a break for it down her cheek.

“Look, if anything, we're both to blame.”

Twilight drew in breath, opened her mouth to respond, looking so desperate, so hopeless. She was quickly silenced by a stern look from Starlight.

“We're both to blame, so we're both responsible for fixing it,” Starlight glanced across the room to where Spike had taken up Twilight's place in the comfort huddle.

“We can't fix it, we've already failed.”

Starlight gently bumped Twilight’s shoulder with her good hoof, “Twilight Sparkle giving up right at the finish line. I thought you were the hopeful one.”

“I'm hopeful when there's something left to hope for.” Her head hung low in defeat.

Starlight pressed her hoof to Twilight’s chin and gently guided it up and over, coaxing Twilight to look at her. Starlight smiled. It was forced and fake and felt realer every second as she said, “There's always something to hope for. What about a miracle?”

The corner of Twilight's mouth tugged up. Not a smile, still far from it, but something more than bleak hopelessness touched her expression, “Miracles are pretty rare, that's why they're miracles.”

“I've got a good feeling about this one.” Starlight surprised herself with the certainty in her words.

The moment stretched longer and longer as neither spoke after that. They just stared, face to face, eye to eye. Starlight cleared her throat and released Twilight's chin after a long time, too long, turning away with a furious blush.

“I'm glad we're friends. If there's nothing else, then I'm at least happy for that,” Twilight mumbled. Twilight hadn't looked away after Starlight had released her.

“If I hadn't–” She choked on the feeling in her throat, “If I hadn't lost Sunburst, there's so many terrible things I never would have done, so many ponies I never would have hurt, but I also wouldn't have ever met you. Is it selfish to be glad I met you, knowing what it cost? Is it terrible to be happy that I'm a monster who got to know you, rather than just some average, unremarkably bad friend that you would never spare a thought for?”

Twilight slowly shook her head, “I don't think that's selfish. I'm starting to wonder if that's the whole point.”

“The point of what?”

“This,” Twilight said simply, “All of this. Why we're here at all. We don't know exactly how you would have turned out, my meddling changed this world’s Starlight a lot, but we know one thing for sure. Without Our Town, the Map never appears at all. You're important somehow, Starlight, in ways we won't know until we see them.”

“So that's what it comes back to? It's destiny that I become a monster. There's some mystical reason why I have to suffer?” It was hard not to let the bitterness, the defeat creep back in.

Twilight shook her head again, fast and firm this time, “Not a reason. There's never a reason a pony has to suffer. It's just what happened. No reason, no sense, just the simple fact that sometimes things happen. Sometimes the whole world is out of our control, and we suffer and struggle through it, and that makes us who we are.”

“I didn't turn out great.”

Twilight rocked back, about to swing the other way and bump shoulders with Starlight. At the last moment, she stopped with a sheepish smile, “Just because we're technically stuck in time doesn't mean you're still the same mare you were a week ago.”

“I haven't changed that much. I just did what made sense. That's all.”

“Starlight Glimmer.” Twilight’s tone was stern. Starlight turned to face her.

“Twilight Sparkle…?”

“Don't tell me you haven't changed when you still have dragon snot smeared on your chest.”

Starlight instantly snapped her head back the other way again, blush finding its way back to her cheeks, “Ah, you saw that, huh.”

“It made me feel a lot better, you know. I got so wrapped up in myself, it helped a lot to see you looking after him,” Twilight brushed a free hoof against Starlight’s good one, so gently, “Starlight one week ago would never have done that. The other Starlight wouldn't even give him the time of day unless she thought I'd notice.”

Starlight’s felt like she was on fire, overwhelmed with feeling she could hardly parse. She wanted to run and hide, but her legs barely worked. She wanted to teleport far far away, but her horn hardly worked. All she could do was sit there as Twilight heaped praise upon her.

“The point is, I'm glad I'm here with this Starlight, and not any other.”

“Thanks,” She barely managed to get the words out, “Thank you.”

“No, thank you. Thank you for putting on a brave face. There's always hope for a miracle,” Twilight smiled warmly, “Did you want to chat with any of your other new friends?”

Starlight couldn't help but scoff, “You're aware I only barely know them. What's there to talk about?”

“The only way you get to know them better is by talking. You know, we'd only just met the day before when we used the Elements to stop Nightmare Moon,” Twilight said in her lecturing voice. She seemed like she had more to say, but she stopped suddenly, a strange look passing over her face while she stared at Starlight, “But you do think of them as friends, right?”

“I already told Spike, yes, they're my friends, I called them my friends, can we please stop making me say it?” She shivered, more for drama than necessity with the way it made her body ache, “It still feels weird.”

“But you have friends. Five friends.”

“Well, Spike makes six, you're seven, but–”

Twilight shook her head so furiously that Starlight imagined it was the kinder alternative to slapping her, “Come on, Starlight, work with me! You have five friends, and a working horn!”

Starlight blinked at her. Oh. Oh. “But I'm not… It wouldn't…”

“Maybe they wouldn't, but maybe they would! We don't have anything left to lose by trying!” Twilight pushed herself to her hooves and pranced in place with such suddenness that Starlight almost yelped, “This whole time I've tried to be the hero, but trying to be the hero, trying to fix things all on my own, that's what got us into this! I can't believe I didn't see it before.”

Starlight was staring up at her. Twilight offered a hoof and Starlight took it. With a great heaving grunt, they got Starlight up to her hooves as well. She was unsteady, and just standing in place was a trial. Twilight pressed close to her flank, giving Starlight something to lean on.

“Starlight Glimmer, you're the miracle.”

Twilight’s mood was infectious, Starlight really felt the hope she had only pretended to have. The whole room took notice of the shift in mood.

“Uh, Twi, should she really be up and about right now?” Applejack was looking concerned as Starlight staggered each step towards the Map.

“No better time than the present,” Twilight responded cheerfully, but unhelpfully.

“She's got an idea. It's me, I'm the idea,” Starlight clarified insufficiently.

“Hey!” Rainbow Dash called from the ceiling, “Lotsa bugs coming right this way. If you've got an idea, it's now or never!”

“Then get down here, Dash, we need our Elements for this,” Twilight called, but her eyes were focused on Starlight only, “All our Elements.”

“Not to be rude, Twilight, but you are aware that the Element of Magic is not just any old unicorn, I would know,” Rarity sniffed indignantly, “Am I right to presume you think she can just fill in?”

“She's not just any old unicorn, Rarity, she's our friend!” Twilight was giddy, her eyes almost manic, but she still had the good sense to clarify, “The Elements are more than just fancy jewels, they're independent, almost alive in some way we've never understood. They stopped working for Celestia after she banished Nightmare Moon, but they worked for us when we needed them to! And we really, really need this to work.”

“So you're not even sure? We're just betting on it?” Starlight wasn't sure if she was hearing panic in the pegasus’ voice, but then she also hadn't seen what Rainbow Dash had seen outside. Fluttershy bopped the pegasus out of the air with one large paw, either an attempt at comfort or an admonition. Who could say?

“Betting, maybe, or just hopeful. We have to try.” Twilight beckoned them all over, sparing Starlight the pain of having to maneuver into position.

Pinkie bounced her way over with a cry, “Starlight gets to shoot the friendship beeeaam! That's so COOL!”

Applejack just shrugged, “Sure, one for the road.”

The room shook as Fluttershy moved, only a couple steps needed. Starlight felt a large wet nose gently poke at the back of her neck, bringing a smile to her face.

“Fiiiine, the newbie can have this one,” Rainbow Dash ceded, hovering gently into place, “But if it doesn't work, it's not my fault.”

Rarity, last but not least, stepped into place with a dramatic flourish, “We're putting a lot of faith in you, Twilight dear.”

“Don't have faith in me, have faith in her,” Twilight stepped away from Starlight and gave her a meaningful look, “I can't really help you from here, you just need to sort of… Feel it out. Remember, it's not quite like regular magic.”

“Gee, that's real helpful Twi.” Starlight rolled her eyes and shut them tight. She breathed deeply, evenly, trying to shut out the sensation of her battered body, the anxious shuffling around her. She focused only on her horn, like a sixth sense, feeling for magic that felt different somehow.

When there was nothing, she started to panic. There was nothing, it was all the same, completely normal magic all around, barely enough to light your horn by. She couldn't sense anything else. Did that mean she wasn't chosen? The Elements wouldn't respond to her? Not even at a time like this?

Her breathing lost its rhythm, growing erratic as she swayed on her three good hooves. She had let them all down before, and she was about to do it again, and for a moment she was angry. Angry because it wasn't fair, because she'd given it her all, every last desperate step, and still! Still she was coming up short!

She wouldn't accept that. Couldn't. She had grown, had changed, and impossibly, she had made friends!

Friends that were right by her side, believing in her.

One by one, she found them, the faintest strings of some energy that wasn't quite like ordinary magic. Strings that dangled loose from the ponies around her, begging for connection. One by one, she took hold of those strings.

Applejack, Element of Honesty, her blunt words the very start of peeling the image Starlight had hid herself beneath.

Fluttershy, Element of Kindness, who was so tender with her, no words needed to show the care and warmth she exemplified.

Pinkie Pie, Element of Laughter, who helped her see the value of levity in the darkest times, the hope that it could bring.

Rarity, Element of Generosity, who showed her how to begin making amends, to give of herself for the sake of others.

Rainbow Dash, Element of Loyalty, dedicated to her friend to a fault, but never hesitating to do what was needed, rescuing her at the very last moment.

There was only one Element left, and she knew where to look. She found it in herself.

Starlight Glimmer, (interim) Element of Magic, and what did she have to say for herself? Well, magic was her special talent, after all. Says so plain as day, right on her flank, and thank goodness for that.

The room flashed minty green as the magic burst free, carrying them aloft. It was warm and inviting, she wanted to laugh, only to realize she already was. The wellspring was endless, asking her to drink deep.

So she drank, and for a moment she was everything, all the friendship and all the love in all the creatures in this land– and there was still so much of it! Even at the end of the world, there was companionship and love and life surviving in every nook and cranny through every hardship the world could throw at them.

She drank another sip, and she was smaller now, but no lesser for it. These were the bonds that held communities together through adversity. Sunburst’s ‘rebels’ were among them, ponies on the brink who had not yet broken, taking comfort in their fellows, finding joy in the darkest places.

Another sip and smaller still, but stronger now, so much stronger. Bonds between individuals, which had seemed so shallow to her before, but ran as deep as oceans.

She was a pair of changelings flying towards the horizon, no destination in mind, but the firm hope that anything was better than this.

She was a unicorn, so happy to have met her ghost, in spite of everything, happy to talk again.

She was a zebra, stoking a hearth of warmth and color that defied the bitter world around her, ensuring the impossible creature that was her friend could always find comfort at home.

It was a boundless pool of magic, wild and warm, and it was her and she was it and there was something else here, she could feel it now, she recognized it, that same presence she had felt before.

She reached out, and she touched it. Just barely, she could only brush the edge of something so vast as to be incomprehensible. She knew its name.

Harmony.

Starlight gasped the whole world back into being like she was surfacing for air, and she bent that great power called Harmony into an arc, and she cast that arc into the scroll atop the Map, and the scroll lit with magic, rising into the air in a glowing halo of minty aura.

Only then did the cheers and joyous cries filter into her ears. Starlight came back to herself slowly, reluctantly. She didn't want to leave that presence, so it released her gently back to her own mundane mind.

The magic began to bounce between the Map and the scroll, forming a channel of light as the complex workings of the spell began to seep into reality.

The Elements floated gently back to the floor, and instantly Twilight was by Starlight's side, supporting her in standing. There wasn't time to mention she didn't feel like she needed the help anymore.

A portal snapped open ahead, churning violently, and Starlight realized there wasn't time for much of anything at all. Panic flashed through her as she looked at Twilight, but the alicorn was all smiles.

Gravity reversed for Twilight, Starlight, and Spike. The other Elements watched them rise, waving and cheering and clapping their hooves, and there wasn't any time, it was all happening too fast, she hadn't had a chance to say goodbye!

That was the thought she carried with her, gripped close to her chest, right against her heart. She fell up. She fell in.

Starlight Glimmer stared helplessly from the doorway as her friend was carried off in a cacophony of cheers and claps and joyous stomps. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, her mind a whirl of confusion. One hoof took a hesitant step back inside, back towards the door. She looked around wildly, desperate for somepony, anypony who cared. There were none at all. She stepped back inside, slammed the door shut behind her. She was all alone.

A cutie mark had taken her only friend.

The memory faded into soft, hazy whiteness.

An alicorn, a unicorn, and a little dragon sat on a cloud, higher than most pegasi bothered to fly, higher than most felt comfortable. The air was thin up here, drawing a satisfying breath required more effort. There were few clouds this far up, the ones around flowed like long wispy rivers. The blue above stretched endlessly on, infinitely.

In the chilly air, they were caressed by the warmth of Celestia’s own sun.

“It's finally almost over.”

“Thank Celestia, I can't wait to go home and sleep in my own bed.”

“It's fading already.”

The pair looked at the unicorn. She was leaning over the edge of the cloud, staring at Cloudsdale far below. The race was due to start soon. The alicorn and her dragon fell silent. She was right. The memories were slipping away like a dream. The harder you clawed for them, the more they drifted away.

“That doesn't seem fair,” The unicorn’s voice cracked, “I made a lot of good memories. Bad ones, too, but enough good that I don't want to just… Forget. You remember every other world you visited, why can't I remember that one?”

“Time paradox.” The dragon responded simply.

Both ponies looked at him now.

“You two really need to read more comics,” He rolled his eyes, “We saw the future, or part of it at least. If we remembered, that would change things. The whole point is to stop screwing up the timeline.”

They were both silent for a moment, digesting that.

“... It's still not fair.”

“Starlight, it's okay,” The alicorn reached out and brushed the unicorn’s hoof. The unicorn snapped the leg back as if burned, and then she blinked, no longer sure why she'd reacted that way. She reciprocated the alicorn’s gentle touch. “We don't forget everything from our dreams, right? The feelings always stick around.”

“I guess I remember that much, at least,” She frowned, brow furrowing in concentration, “Terrifying and difficult and unimaginably fun. I remember some of the ending. My big hero moment. My miracle. I don't think I'll remember it for much longer.”

“Then hold onto that much at least. You made the difference.”

“There's something else, too,” The unicorn paused, hesitating, head hunching forward in preemptive defense, “It's silly, I don't even know if I should mention it.”

“If you remember it, it's worth remembering.” The reassurance was gentle and encouraging.

“For a moment, I felt something else there with me,” She shook her head as if to clear it, “It told me its name. Harmony.”

“You… Spoke to it?”

“No, nothing like that, I just knew it was there, and suddenly I knew its name, and I knew that it was, in fact, a name.”

The alicorn fell into the distant reaches of her own thoughts. The unicorn turned back to watch the race. It was almost over now.

“Well, it's a mystery to me. The connection to the Elements and the Tree is pretty obvious. Maybe they really are alive, like we thought.”

“So what happens now?” The dragon piped up.

“Now I get to see my first Sonic Rainboom, Spike,” The unicorn gave the dragon a pat on the head, then turned to the alicorn, “After that, I guess it's up to her.”

The alicorn smiled, “Let's go see the future together.”

The sky around them exploded in a riot of color, ripples of rainbow light splashing out from the epicenter far below. It was breathtaking, an incomparable sight, a feat pulled from myth and made real. It would make a wonderful memory.

A thunderous crash and a rush of wind lagged shortly behind, sending the small cloud drifting, spinning.

No creature was left to complain about the disturbance.

The alicorn, the unicorn, and the dragon had disappeared without a trace.

Author's Note

Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the adventure. I know it's not perfect, and there will always be questions that we may never know the answer to, but I still hope the journey was satisfying.

I also want to thank the incredible semillion for pre-reading all of this, it wouldn't have been possible without the best confidence booster in the world. Every "YEAAAAHHHH" makes it worth it, and I'm so sorry for my terrible habit of randomly sending you thousands of words to pre-read. It will happen again. The rest of you should check out their work, it's great stuff from top to bottom.

I really enjoyed the process of writing this, and I learned a lot, and certainly have some things I would do different if I could, but it's done. Onto the next.