The Fountain of Youth

The dying stallion looked at the mare's silhouette through the narrow parting of his eyelids. "Twi? Get the curtains, would you, Sweetie?"

Twilight drew the curtains to spare Night Light from the harsh sunlight. His eyes adjusted, and she could see the surprise spread across his face. She couldn't be completely sure, but Twilight Sparkle was fairly confident that her father had mistaken her for his wife, as his surprise gave way to disappointment, and then a fresh wave of grief. Tears streaked down his cheeks.

It broke Twilight's heart every time this happened. Every time her elderly father would get a brief moment of clarity from his late-stage dementia, and remember that his wife was dead all over again.

"How long has it been?" he asked in a strained voice.

Twilight knew this question was coming. "Sixty one days."

Night Light grimaces and looked away. It had been sixty one days since Velvet had died. He remembered the day. He had forgotten. But he remembered now. How could he have forgotten? Only a bad pony forgets about their beloved wife.

"Dad, you're not," Twilight said. "You're not a bad pony." She'd had this talk that was coming with him before. She'd listened to his lamentations of his condition. What little he had left of his mind was riddled with grief and guilt. "You're not a bad pony. You're just unwell."

Night Light rolled over and looked at the painting on the wall of the hospice care home. It was a sailboat. "I wish we had travelled more."

Twilight brushed the loose strands of his white mane out of his eyes. "But you did."

"What does it matter?" Night Light asked. "If I can't even remember, and... and she's..." his voice trembled.

"You lived while you were alive," Twilight said. She grabbed the photo album from her bag to show him. "Neighagara Falls, Las Pegasus, Baltimare, Manehattan, Trottingham... the Crystal Empire..."

Night Light's eyes sharpened with sudden alertness as he looked at the photo of his son holding the infant foal. "Shining! Flurry!"

Twilight gently put her hoof on his shoulder to calm him. "They're here too," she told him as she stepped away slowly to let Shining and Cadance walk in next.

"Dad?" Shining Armor greeted.

"Prince," Night Light replied

"Dad, don't be like that," Shining pleaded.

Night Light squinted at his son's mane. "Lotta salt in that blue ocean. Has it really been that long?"

"It's not the years..." Shining said.

"It's running an empire," Cadance said.

"And raising a little filly," Night said wistfully. Twilight's silhouette in his bedroom doorway shifted in the periphery of his vision. Night Light's muscles tugged at the corner of his mouth into half a grin. "Trust me... I know." He looked at his son. "How's the knee?" he asked.

Shining kept his emotions from his face. "Still a bit stiff."

"Snap, crackle, pop... arthritis," Night Light sang in parody of an old advertisement jingle. Shining Armor snorted, neither in humor not in anger. Only sympathetic agreement. Night Light smiled at Cadance. "Ah, dear, you look lovely as ever. Hard to believe you're older than him. You've not aged a day since the wedding."

"I'm sure it looks that way," Cadance implied.

"Hmm," Night Light nodded in understanding. Though she didn't wear her years in her face, the depths of her eyes carried the wisdom of her decades. The calm of a hurricane. "A sight for old eyes just the same."

"Thank you."

"A shame that I might ask..." Night Light paused to catch his breath. "For a moment with Shining?"

"Of course." Cadance kissed Shining's cheek and excused herself from the room, closing the door behind her.

"Well, son..." he started. Shining waited patiently. "I guess this is it."

Shining nodded. The doctor hadn't minced words about Night Light's prognosis.

"I'm the one who's dying. But your face looks graver than mine... Why the long face?" Night Light wheezed despite himself, never one to pass up a chance for a dad-joke to add a little levity to the situation. Just the same, Shining waited patiently for whatever final deathbed wisdom his father wished to impart upon him. "Not even a grin?" he asked. Shining sniffled. "Bah, don't do that," Night said. "We both cried enough for your mother." Her mere mention was enough to break the dam for the both of them as a silent tear fell down each of their cheeks. "But I guess she's worth a few more."

Shining nodded.

"You're lucky, you know," Night said.

"I know."

Night Light smiled. "I don't just mean... your life," Night's breath grew shallow. "I mean, you will be. You'll never have to watch your wife grow old. Or your sister."

Shining swallowed hard. "Y-yeah. I guess."

"Losing your mother is the hardest thing I've ever had to endure," Night said. "But better her than me." Shining bristled. "I mean... I wouldn't wish this on her. To endure losing me. Not on my life." Night's chortle devolved into another dry wheeze. "So... for your wife to be immortal... maybe it's a bit selfish... of you."

"Maybe..." Shining agreed.

"But still lucky," Night Light added.

Shining nodded. "Definitely."

"So..." Night Light breathed, "who else wants to come see the old... dying... stallion?"

~

Night Light blinked awake. "How long was... I asleep?" he asked the other pony in the darkened room.

"A few minutes, I think. Mom and Dad just left."

Night Light recognized her voice and smiled gently. "Hello, little Snowflake," he called her by his pet name for her.

Flurry Heart blushed in embarrassment. "Don't call me that. I'm not a little filly anymore. I'm almost forty."

Night Light just smiled. "You'll always be my little grandfilly." Flurry didn't have the heart to protest any further. "Are you... my last guest?"

"Yeah. Until tomorrow," she said.

"Hmm." He sounded doubtful. "Tomorrow is a promise for no one."

"You think you're going to die tonight!?" she asked.

He shrugged under the blanket. "I don't know for sure that I won't."

She chewed her lip. "Grampa, I... I could help you."

"Flurry..."

"I could have helped Grammy, but..." she said as tears welled up in her eyes. "I could have, but I didn't!"

"Flurry, no..." he said calmly. "Not like that."

"Like... like what? I didn't even-"

"I know..." he said. "About your... talent."

"Wha... how?"

"Your mother told Vel... told Velvet."

"She knew!?" Flurry cried. "She knew she was dying and she knew about... me? Why didn't she ask me to-"

Night scoffed indignantly. "You really think she would ask that of you!? To do that to her own grandfilly!? And for what? To live? Live with having done that to you?"

"I would have wanted to!" Flurry cried. "To save her!"

He groaned in discomfort. "There's more to living than simply surviving."

"Grampa, please! I love you! Please let me save you!"

"Please don't."

"Am I... Am I really that repulsive to you?" she asked.

"Flurry..." he turned onto his side to look at her. "Of course not. You're a beautiful mare. Were you not my grandfilly, I'd be flattered to be asked by you to... do that." He rolled onto his back again. "But do you just think that nopony would question it?" he asked. "If I were just suddenly be younger one day? Your parents, and Twilight... they would know what happened. What I... what we did. Would you really want those dirty looks? I sure don't." He looked away and closed his eyes. "If she had... If Velvet... I could have forgiven her. And... to be young again with her..." he smiled. "I don't know what I would have said then."

"You could be young again, anyway!"

His wistful smile faded. "Flurry... what do you think happens when we die?"

"I don't know," Flurry said. "Nopony knows for sure."

"Do you think there's an afterlife?" he asked. "A good place for good ponies? A bad place for bad? Anything at all?"

"I don't know."

"I hope there is," he said. "I... have to believe there is. That Velvet is there, in a good place."

"Yeah," she agreed earnestly. "I think there is. There must be. She's there." She didn't know if she was lying or not. But it seemed to be of some comfort to him.

"Yeah... she is..." he sighed. "I miss her."

"We all do, Grampa."

"Wherever she is. Even if... there's nothing... I'd rather join her. I just don't want to keep going on without her. The worst part is forgetting. Waking up, thinking it was all a dream. That she hadn't died. Feeling that brief joy, and rolling over to hug her. Only to find her side of the bed empty. It's like losing her all over again every morning. It hurts... so much."

"I... I know," Flurry cried quietly.

"I'm sorry. I hate to break your heart... Do you think I'm being selfish?"

She shook her head. "No."

He reached out his hoof. She held it. "I appreciate you offering me your... gift. Were things different... maybe..." He trailed off and looked at her. "Take care who you give that gift to, little Snowflake. Not all gifts are a blessing."