A Silver Sky: Four Little Ponies

Looking back, I suppose I was never a very sociable filly.

I was the foal who usually went home by herself at the end of the school day. I’d hide away in my room and read. Sometimes Apple Bloom would coax me out to play, but unless one of us had a big crisis, we never spent that much time together. I didn’t have any close friends at that school. And I had no idea how to make any.

I guess I fit the stereotype. I was awkward. My hair was too poofy. I had a lisp. It’s an old story. The girl who thinks she’s ugly, so she hides from the rest of the world.

But the truth is, I didn’t mind all that much. I liked being alone. I had my books. I had long, happy hours in the kitchen by myself, making new sweets that only I got to taste.

And I had the hill.

When I first started coming to the hill near the schoolhouse, it was on a whim. I just didn’t feel like going home that day, so I climbed to the top and watched the Pegasus ponies move the clouds away to prepare for a starry, moonlit evening. I stayed and watched the sunset, transfixed by its beauty. I didn’t head home until the stars had come out.

The next day, I came back to that hill. But there was someone else there.

Everyone in town knew about Spike, of course. He had been a bit of a sensation when he first arrived, after all the Nightmare Moon craziness was over. Hardly anyone in Ponyville had seen a dragon before, let alone a small, friendly one. Spike couldn’t walk down the street without ponies following him around, introducing themselves and asking him all sorts of questions.

He was the opposite of me: he was immensely popular. And he hated it.

After all, there’s a difference between being popular, and having lots of friends. Most ponies didn’t treat Spike like a friend, or even a fellow townspony. They treated him like a curiosity. Aside from Twilight and her friends, no one ever took the time to get to know who Spike really was.

But then I found him, lying on the grass on that hill, watching the sun set. I knew who he was of course, but only by reputation. And as usually happened when I met someone new, I had no idea what to say.

So I just said, “Hi. Can I sit with you?”

He nodded curtly, and I sat down.

And we didn’t say anything, not for a long time. I felt really awkward, but he told me later he found it kind of relaxing. He’d rarely met a pony who didn’t bombard him with questions upon first meeting.

Finally, he forced the issue: “Aren’t you going to ask me something?” he said. He sounded a little annoyed.

I had no idea how to respond. Did it bother him that I hadn’t asked him something? Or would it bother him if I did? I was at a loss. But there was one (and, to be honest, only one) social trick I had learned over the years: there’s no situation so tense that it can’t be diffused with homemade candy.

“Okay, here’s my question,” I said. “Do you want a licorice stick?”

I pulled one out of my bag and held it in front of his face, smiling. He looked at me with surprise for a moment, then took the stick and ate it.

“I’m Spike,” he said, smiling for the first time.

“Hello!” I said cheerfully. It would be another twenty minutes before I realized that I hadn't told him my name.

It was the start of something unique. Spike had told me he came to this hill sometimes so he could be alone. I told him I knew all about being alone. We were both outcasts in different ways, and that proved to be fertile ground for a friendship. We’d come to the hill almost every evening, talk about our days, laugh together. Sometimes I brought candy. Sometimes he brought cookies.

One day, while we were talking on that hill, we had the idea that I go to Rarity’s for a makeover.

While I was in the Gallery, I tried my best to forget about the hill.

After a while, thinking about it hurt too much. Thinking of the hill, thinking of Spike, and my mom and dad, and Ponyville and Miss Cheerilee and my books and my candy and the stars…all of it felt like I was remembering someone who had died. Because I was sure I would never see them again. So I tried to forget. Forget Ponyville, forget my friends, forget myself.

And I almost succeeded.

But a few very dear friends pushed me back from the brink. The same friends who risked everything to help get us out.
I remember lying on the soft, cool grass with Peregrine and Spike on the night the Circle fell. Not far away, I could hear Styngian and Luna discussing Rarity’s fate, but I did my best to tune them out. Rarity had taken enough away from me. I wouldn’t let her have that moment.

My return to Ponyville was everything I had hoped it wouldn't be. Silver Spoon, Sweetie Belle, Diamond Tiara and I were welcomed home in a special function held by the Mayor. After all, the whole town had thought I had run away or died, but here I was, alive and well, along with the other missing fillies. Crowds cheered our names. Diamond seemed to love it. The rest of us just wanted to go home.

But going home and going back to normal are two different things. Suddenly, I was the curiosity, the pony who everyone kept bombarding with questions. Usually they were tasteful ones that avoided making any mention of the Gallery, but I could tell everyone wanted to ask.

I had returned home, just to become Ponyville’s favorite sideshow.

The only place I felt comfortable was my hill. Spike and I still met there every evening. It was far enough away from the center of town that we were usually left alone.

For a long time, he was the only one I could talk to about the Gallery. I think back on those days, on how much of a burden I placed on him. I spent so many nights crying into his shoulder, recounting the nightmare I'd endured.

But he never asked me to stop. He never tried to get someone else to listen to me. He never did anything but support me.

Is it any wonder that I love him?

I wrote my first book when I was thirteen. I’d always loved to tell stories, and one day I decided I might as well put one down on paper.

I doubt I would have been published if it hadn’t been for my notoriety, but ponies genuinely seemed to like the book. It was an adventure novel for young ponies, about a filly who finds the lost crown of the Griffin Queen, and decides to make the dangerous journey to the Griffin Kingdom to return the crown to its rightful owner.

But my original draft had been about a far-off land where foals were enslaved by evil adults, and a brave group of four fillies banded together to rescue them.

I was almost a hundred pages in before I made the connection.

When I did, I took the manuscript and burned it.

My book was a hit, and so were its sequels, each one following the heroine, Shimmering Aurora, a filly who constantly finds herself exploring distant lands and getting into dangerous situations.

One thing my readers always mention is that my heroine never seems to be indoors for very long. She’s almost always outside, running free and enjoying everything nature has to offer. One of my trademarks is that every book ends the same way: with Shimmering Aurora thinking back on her latest adventure, while happily gazing up at a silver sky.

There’s a reason I write it that way.

Thanks to the book sales, I was able to save up enough money to buy that little hill. The land belonged to the Silver family, but they gave me an excellent deal. There’s a little cottage there now. Spike and I built it together, with a little help (okay, a lot of help) from Apple Bloom. It’s not much, but it has everything we need, complete with big, wide windows pointing toward the beautiful horizon.

We haven’t missed a sunset in years.

--Final Chapter: Four Little Ponies--

Twist sat back in her chair and sighed. The book was almost complete, and she had written enough of them to know what came next: that strange mixture of pride and loss which lingered for days after completing a project.

“Twist?” Spike asked, walking into the room with a fresh cup of tea on a plate. “Are you sure you don’t want to dictate that to me? You know I’m faster with a quill than you.”

Twist laughed. “Oh, Spike,” she said. “You should know the answer to that by now.” She punctuated her statement by giving the dragon a kiss on the cheek. She had to kneel down to do it; she was a full-grown mare now, but Spike had only grown a little bit since they had first met each other. Mentally, they were equals, but physically, Spike would likely remain an adolescent until Twist was old and grey.

“Are you sure your publisher will go for this?” Spike asked, handing Twist her tea. “I mean, a memoir about your time in the Gallery is pretty heavy stuff. Besides, I thought you didn’t want to be known for that.”

“I don’t,” Twist said, taking a sip. “But no one’s ever told the whole story before. It’s been eight years, and all anyone knows about the Circle is rumors. It’s time that changed. Ponies need to know everything the four of us went through. Me, Silver, Diamond, and Sweetie. ”

“What about Pip?” Spike asked.

“He’s the only one who asked not to be included,” Twist said. “I mention a colt who was at the Gathering a couple of times, but I don’t give his name.”

“Well, if that's what he wants,” Spike said. “But how do you know you won’t get in trouble? You promised Princess Luna…”

“When I promised her I wouldn't say anything about Celestia, it was because I thought she was going to tell the world herself,” Twist said, with a hint of bitterness in her voice. “And what does she do instead? She waits a month for things to die down, then she says that Celestia is ‘taking a sabbatical due to the stress of ruling alone for so long.’ And that’s it. Ponies just nodded their heads, accepted that Celestia was on vacation or something, and went on with their lives.”

“Yeah, that was pretty disappointing. But I can kind of see why she did it. Twist, ponies believe in Celestia.” Spike said. “If they found out the truth…”

“Yeah, yeah. The idea of Celestia is more important than the pony herself. Equestria can’t survive without a paragon to look up to, blah blah blah. You’re not the first one I’ve had this discussion with, Spike. My editor-“

“Who sounded terrified the last time she visited…”

“Well, let her be!” Twist said, raising her voice. “When I renewed my contract it said they were required to publish one non-fiction book on any subject I chose. I gave up a lot of bits to keep that clause in. This book is getting printed, Spike.”

“I know, I know,” Spike said, hugging Twist gently, “I’m not trying to argue; I’m just worried you might get in trouble with the Princess when this goes public…”

“Honestly, Spike? I doubt most ponies will believe me. I’m just a candymaker who writes books in her free time. She’s the undying Princess of the Sun. Almost everyone is going to side with her, and a lot of ponies will probably hate me for writing this.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

Twist smiled, “I never really fit in. Why start now?”

Spike hugged her. “Do what you think is right, Twist,” he said. “You know I’ll be there to back you up no matter what.”

“I know,” she said happily. “And hey, I’ve always wanted to visit the dragon lands. Maybe not the Red Continent, but some of the areas where the climate is more friendly to ponies. I was thinking that after the book comes out, we could go there for a while. Just until everyone calms down. You could see Styngian again. I always was surprised that he let you give up your training so easily.”

“I didn’t give it up, I just postponed it,” Spike said. “Styngian saw how happy you and me were together and said I should put it on hold for a little while. Just while you’re still ali-”

He clapped his hand over his mouth.

“Oh, geez! I didn’t mean it like that! I’m sorry, Twist, I was just quoting what he said, honest! He can be so blunt sometimes…”

Twist laughed. “It’s okay, Spike, really. You don’t date a dragon without thinking of this sort of thing. Now thcoot, I want to finish another page before the sun goes down. You know what day tomorrow is, and I want to talk to Silver and Sweetie before they make their trips.”

Spike burst out laughing.

“What?” Twist asked.

“You said ‘thcoot!’ Oh man, it’s been years since you let your lisp slip out! That sure takes me back!”

“OUT, YOU!” Twist yelled, with a grin on her face. She threw a pillow at the dragon for emphasis. Still laughing, Spike retreated from the assault, leaving the mare alone with her thoughts.

With a second, happier sigh, Twist dipped her quill into her inkwell and began to write:

Sometimes ponies ask me if it isn’t depressing being in love with a dragon. After all, they point out, he’ll probably live for hundreds of thousands of years. I’ll be lucky to make it to a hundred. Why wouldn’t I want someone more like me, they ask? Don’t you want someone you can grow old with?

Maybe it’s a little presumptuous of me, but this is what I tell them:

Somewhere, on a mountain peak far, far away from here, thousands of years from now when every one of us is but a memory, a mighty purple and green dragon will watch as his child hatches from a fragile egg. And he’ll tell that hatchling tales of his long, long life. And one of them will be the story of his first love, a pony from a place called Equestria. And he’ll tell the hatchling about the sweets she used to make, about the stories she used to pull out of thin air. He’ll tell of the pain she suffered, the friend she lost, and of the way she triumphed in the end.

And then, countless ages later, that little hatchling, all grown up, will tell his own child of the pony his father loved. The pony his father still loves.

And in that way, I shall live forever.

*******

Canterlot hadn’t changed. At least, not externally.

It had been years since Twilight Sparkle had visited the royal palace, and to her surprise, it looked almost exactly the same.

The towering, ancient pillars still seemed brand new, the result of an enchantment which had been placed on them centuries ago by one of the royal sisters. Twilight could not recall which one.

The décor still featured the omnipresent theme of the sun and the moon, always appearing together, neither one ever overshadowing the other.

She recalled asking about this the first time she had visited the palace as a filly. Her guide had told her matter-of-factly that “her highness believes in emphasizing the balance between night and day.”

The stained glass art which lined the palace walls still told of the heroic deeds of Celestia, Luna, and, in two instances, Twilight and her friends. Here, for the first time, Twilight noticed a significant change.

“She’s gone,” Twilight whispered to herself.

The windows depicting the defeats of Nightmare Moon and Discord featured only five ponies. Rarity’s image was nowhere to be find.

“I thought it best to remove her,” a voice said from behind her. Twilight recognized it immediately as Luna’s. “You and your friends are heroes. You deserve better than to be associated with the likes of Rarity. I shall not allow your memory to be sullied by her presence.”

“Our memory?” Twilight said, turning to greet the ruler of Equestria. “You talk as if we’re already gone, Princess.”

“Forgive me, Twilight Sparkle,” said Luna. “When one lives as long as I do, it is difficult not to take the long view of things. It is a tendency I have been attempting to curtail as of late. Clearly, I must work harder.”

“I understand your reasons, but I’m still not sure I agree with what you’ve done here,” Twilight said. “Rarity was one of us. We all failed to see the truth about her until it was too late. Shouldn’t that be reflected? Besides, everyone knows there are six Elements of Harmony. Won’t future generations wonder why there are only five ponies here?”

“Of course they will not,” Luna said. “It will be common knowledge that Twilight Sparkle, one of the most exemplary unicorns of all time, wielded both the elements of Magic and Generosity. There was no sixth element bearer.”

“So that’s it, then? You’re just going to erase her from history?” Twilight asked indignantly.

“Would you prefer that she be revered along with the rest of you?” Luna asked.

“No, but…” Twilight shook her head. “This just doesn’t…feel right. You lied to the public about Celestia, now you’re lying about Rarity.”

“And if I did not invent those stories, time and posterity would do so for me,” Luna said. “In the end, that’s all history is, Twilight Sparkle. Stories which only vaguely resemble the truth, populated by barely recognizable caricatures of long-dead ponies. I am simply ensuring that history takes the proper path.”

The Princess began to walk down the hall, with Twilight following close behind.

“Even so, I don’t know if...” Twilight trailed off, unsure why she was objecting to Rarity’s exclusion.

“Do you doubt my commitment to atoning for the mistakes of my sister?”

“Not at all!” Twilight said. “I was there when you opened that new home for Gallery foals and other abuse victims. I know how hard you’ve worked to round up the remaining Circle members…”

“Work which, to my frustration, still continues,” Luna said, shaking her head. “Of the forty members who survived that night, six still remain free.”

“Are you including-“

“No, I am not counting Rarity. She is…a unique case.”

“Well, the Circle members were very powerful, well-connected ponies, and the smart ones must have known they might be exposed one day,” Twilight said. “I’m sure most of them had escape plans and hiding places prepared. It’s no wonder it’s taken you so long to track them all down.”

“I know, Twilight Sparkle. But it still pains me to think that after eight years, I still haven’t succeeded in destroying the Circle.”

“We destroyed the Circle a long time ago, Princess,” Twilight said. “All that’s left now are a few paranoid, miserable fugitives trying to escape the inevitable. I’m sure your guards will catch the rest before long.”

“I hope you are right,” Luna said. “Now, my time with you is limited, so if you’ll allow me to show you to the council chambers...”

An aristocratic-looking older pony scoffed in Twilight’s direction as he passed the two of them in the hallway. Twilight looked back at him and he returned a scowl.

“I’m afraid you will have to get used to that,” Luna said. “There are still many in Canterlot’s nobility who see the idea of a royal council as blasphemous. Equestria has been an absolute principality since its inception; it is difficult for them to accept the idea of a council of representatives with power equal to mine.”

“But the council was your idea, Princess,” Twilight said. “If they respect the throne so much, why isn’t that enough for them?”

“They respect Celestia,” Luna said. “Sometimes, when they do not think I can hear them, the nobles have taken to calling me ‘the Princess’ sister.’”

“That’s awful!” Twilight replied. “If they only knew-“

“But they cannot, and they shall not,” Luna said firmly. “Equestria needs its myths. It needs the comforting lie of a ruler who loves and protects every last pony. I cannot be that ruler, not to this generation. Not while I am still known to so many as Nightmare Moon. Celestia can still do some good in this world, if only as a symbol.”

Luna sighed. "And besides," she said. "They do not know her as I do. They don't know how kind and loving she can be, even with all the evil she has done..."

“Right, about Celestia…” Twilight said. “Princess, I’m sorry, but I have to remind you that we have an agreement.”

Luna sighed. “I understand. But first, I must ask you: why did you finally accept a council seat now? Four times, you have been selected by the ponies of the Everfree region, and three times, you have turned them down. What makes this time different?”

“Oh, well, it’s nothing special, I just…” Twilight blushed. “My daughter’s been accepted to the Academy.”

“Really? I had not heard,” Luna said. “So Sweetie Belle will be attending the University program at Cadance’s Academy for Gifted Unicorns.”

“I’m glad you renamed the place,” Twilight said. “I doubt Sweetie would have been willing to attend otherwise.”

“It is not my intention to alter the face of Equestria simply because I am temporarily the sole ruler,” Luna said. “But yes, it seemed…unsavory to keep my sister’s name on a place where so many foals congregate.”

There was a moment of awkward silence, as the two ponies looked away from each other, unsure of what to say next. After deciding she’d had enough, Luna attempted a slight shift in topic.

“You must be so proud! Sweetie is attending the same program you did. Truly following in her mother’s hoofsteps!”

Twilight laughed dismissively. “You know, she still sometimes has trouble calling me her mother. It’s been that way ever since I adopted her. She usually just calls me Twilight.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Luna said. “But I am certain she loves you all the same.”

“Oh, I know she does,” Twilight replied. “It’s not that, it’s just…for a long time, she never had anyone in her life she referred to with a family title. No one but her sister. I guess that made it difficult for her…”

“Ah. Well, that is certainly understandable,” Luna said. “The bond between sisters can be a…painful one, at times.”

“Speaking of which…princess, I really must insist,” Twilight said, her tone turning serious. “If you can’t honor my request, I can’t in good conscience sit on your council.”

“And that would be a loss for us all,” Luna said. “Very well, Twilight Sparkle. As I promised, I shall show you what has become of my sister. But do not forget your side of our agreement.”

“I know,” Twilight said. “I won’t tell another soul, so long as I live. You have my word.”

“Very well,” Luna said. There was a flash of purple light.

Twilight found herself in a beautiful, gigantic bedroom. The room was bigger than most ponies’ entire homes, dominated by a massive bed which was adorned with hoof-carved images of the great deeds of the royal sisters. A series of tinted windows were arranged so that a rainbow of sunlight fell upon the bed when it was bright outside.

There, on the bed, lay Princess Celestia, lost in sleep.

“This is where you put her? A bedroom?” Twilight asked.

“This is where her body is,” Luna said. “But not where Celestia is. Look closer, Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight approached the bed carefully, afraid of waking the Princess. She was inches away from Celestia’s face when she saw it.

Celestia was crying.

Tears fell from the former ruler's closed eyes, accompanied by small, gentle sobs. Then, in a voice that sounded almost juvenile, she heard Celestia say, “Please. Not again. Stop it…”

“What’s going on?” Twilight asked. “You told me she recovered from seeing all those nightmares…”

“She did,” Luna said. “It took weeks, but she finally awoke. And when she did, she was…changed. Horrified by what she saw. She asked me if I had lied to her, if those had really been only a week’s worth of nightmares. Because to her, they felt like a lifetime.

“And it was then that she realized that she had no idea what a lifetime in the Gallery was really like. She realized she had become too distant, too detached from the pain of her subjects. She decided she wanted to learn humility again. She had no concept of the full extent of the misery she had inflicted on all those foals.

“So she asked me to help her find out.”

“No, it’s okay, you can do it,” Celestia whispered. “Please don’t hit me again…”

“Princess,” Twilight said. “Is Celestia dreaming she’s in the Gallery?”

“Not quite,” Luna said. “She believes she is a common filly who lived in the era of my rebellion. She was stolen from her home by members of the original Circle. Their version of the Gallery had no clever name, no lavish architecture. It was simply a nameless, filthy prison, where foals were kept penned up like animals, and only released when an adult wished to abuse one of them. This is the dream she has been trapped in, every minute of every day, for the past eight years. Time occurs in this dream at the same rate it does in reality. She has experienced every awful moment of this eight year old filly’s life. And she shall continue to do so until she experiences her death.”

“Her…death?” Twilight asked, her voice trembling.

“According to my research, the average slave of the Circle during this period did not live past the age of ten,” Luna said.

“The original Circle was more cruel than Fancy’s group. More inclined toward violence and torture. When a slave grew too old to amuse them, they made sport out of ending her life.”

Twilight suddenly felt ill. Next to her, Celestia was making small, pained whimpers.

“So they’re going to kill her? That’s what’s going to happen to Celestia?” Twilight asked. “Your sister asked for this?”

“It was not easy for me to do,” Luna said, her voice devoid of emotion. “But perhaps it was necessary.”

“And when she dies in the dream, what happens then? Will Celestia wake up?”

“No,” Luna said. “Then she will live a new life as a prisoner of the second Circle. Then the third. And so on. Each one was a bit different from the others, you see. Celestia cannot know the full extent of her deeds unless she experiences them all.

“In each case, she will live the average lifespan of a Circle slave during that period. She will lose her home and family at a young age, she will become the property of the Circle, and she will eventually die at their hooves. Every day she will pray to Princess Celestia for deliverance. And every day, it shall not come.”

“How many?” Twilight asked, her voice barely a whisper. “How many Circles were there?”

“The group commanded by Fancypants was the tenth,” Luna replied. “Worry not, Twilight Sparkle. My sister shall not awaken during your time in this world.”

Twilight looked back at Celestia. She was silent now, but tears continued to fall from her eyes.

Is this what justice looks like? Twilight asked herself.

“Suffering begets suffering,” Luna said, looking away from Twilight with a far-off look on her face. “In that, at least, there is balance.”

She turned back toward Twilight. “Well, then, Twilight Sparkle. I have shown you what became of my sister. Now let us make haste. The welcome dinner I arranged for you and your fellow council members should begin shortly.”

“I…think I lost my appetite,” Twilight said. “I’d like to just go straight to my room, if that’s alright.”

“Certainly. Once we are back in the palace halls, I shall have someone escort you to your new lodgings.”

“Alright…” Twilight said, walking toward Luna.

“No! NO!” shouted Celestia. “Don’t leave me!”

“Princess?” Twilight said.

“Don’t go! You haven’t fed me yet! You promised I could eat today if I didn’t resist! Please! I’ll do anything!”

“Luna…” Twilight asked, “Did Celestia really ask you to do this to her?”

“That is what I said, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said sternly.

“PLEASE, I’M SO HUNGRY! DON’T GO!” Celestia screamed, thrashing about on the bed in her sleep. But she looked as though something was holding her back.

Celestia thrashed again, without speaking this time, and Twilight could hear something rattling under the covers.

Chains.

There was a flash of purple light, and Twilight and Luna were back in the palace halls.

“I trust you will remember your oath,” Luna said. “No one can know of this.”

Luna turned her face away from Twilight. The unicorn wasn't sure, but she thought she heard a sob.

“Princess,” Twilight said, bringing her hoof to her chest to calm herself. “After showing me this, do you really think I’m going to be able to work with you on the council?”

“Twilight Sparkle, the purpose of the council is not to work with me. It is to keep me in check,” Luna replied. “Your task is to recognize those times when I attempt to overstep my bounds, and prevent me from doing so. If this experience has made you mistrust me, then I welcome it. I am the sole ruler of Equestria, as my sister once was. But thanks to you and the other council members, I have something Celestia never had:

“I have someone to stop me.”

Luna turned and began to walk away, in the direction of the dining hall. Twilight did not follow.

“I shall see you tomorrow for our first meeting, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said. “Pleasant dreams.”

Twilight Sparkle did not sleep that night.

*******

The sunlight shone as it hit the ocean, briefly making the water look like it was filled with glimmering diamonds.

The mare sighed wistfully. She had so loved gems back in her younger days. But she had stopped wearing the tiara long ago. It looked unprofessional.

Diamond Tiara stood on the deck of her private yacht as Horseshoe Bay began to appear on the horizon. Behind her stood a grey-colored mare. She wore large glasses, and pushed her braided hair out of the way of her face as she wrote notes in a stenographer’s pad.

“We should be docked in an hour or so,” she said. “After that, we’ll take the train from Baltimare to Ponyville, which should get us to your family's estate by-”

“Fine, Garnet, fine,” Diamond Tiara said. “You don’t need to tell me every little detail, you know.”

Garnet shrank at the criticism. “I’m sorry….” she said. “I just wanted to organize things for you.”

“Ugh, you’re such a worrywart,” Diamond said. “Just tell me if we’ll be back in time for the benefit.”

Garnet nervously ruffled through her notes. “Ummm…no. Sorry, but when your nine AM meeting ran late it kind of domino-effected the rest of the day. The benefit ends at ten, and our train to Ponyville won’t be in until eleven-thirty.”

“DAMMIT!” Diamond said, stamping her hoof. “That idiot distributor! Who the hell does he think he is, showing up late for a meeting with the new CFO of Barnyard Bargains Unlimited? Take a note, Garnet: we’re never doing business with him again!”

“Um, but that’s not really your call, Miss Tiara, um, ma’am…” Garnet said timidly. “Your father, er, I mean, the CEO specifically said we need him on board if we’re going to expand the chain into the Mild Western territories. You’re not allowed to cut him off without board approval.”

Diamond Tiara sighed. “I’ll take it up with daddy when I get home,” she said. “I’m going down to my cabin, Garnet. Don’t bother me until we make port.” With that, she strode past Garnet and headed inside the yacht.

“Um, ma’am? I’m sorry you won’t get to see Silver Spoon tonight…”

“What was that?” Diamond said, turning around sharply.

“I mean, that’s why you wanted to go to the benefit, right? To see her? You keep saying how much you miss her. But you’ll be in Ponyville for a few days, I’m sure you can spend time with her tomorrow…”

“You just don’t get it, Garnet,” Diamond Tiara said sadly as she turned and continued walking. “Tomorrow’s special. There’s only one pony she’ll be interested in seeing…”

Diamond Tiara walked down to her cabin and shut the door, locking it behind her.

After looking around for a moment, mostly out of habit, she opened her dresser and took out a book.

It was a leather-bound photo album, with Diamond’s cutie mark embossed on the cover in gold. She opened it up and looked at the first photo.

It depicted two fillies, one violet and one silver, at the former’s fourth birthday party. The violet filly had just received a beautiful new tiara as a gift from her father, and was trying it on for the first time. The silver filly looked at her friend in awe.

The following pages had scores of other photos, always of the two foals together. In one, the silver foal showed off her new cutie mark, while her friend looked on, with a hint of jealousy on her face. The next one depicted the violet filly displaying her own new cutie mark a few weeks later. Her friend appeared overjoyed.

More photos followed. They depicted typical days at school, birthday celebrations, tea parties and grand days out. And always, the two of them were together.

Then Diamond Tiara turned to a blank page. She had left it that way intentionally.

The next page showed a newspaper photo of herself, Silver Spoon, Sweetie Belle, and Twist being honored by the mayor of Ponyville. Diamond was embracing Silver, holding on to her like something precious.

It was the last photo in the album which included Diamond Tiara.

The images on the following pages were less personal. Most were from newspapers or society magazines. One was torn from a charity flyer. A few had been taken by Diamond herself. Arranged chronologically, they showed the progress of a small silver filly who had grown into a lovely, sophisticated young mare, the toast of Ponyville society. There were dozens of photos, all depicting Silver Spoon. To Diamond’s eyes, each was more beautiful than the last.

She reached into the drawer and pulled out a flyer, which had another image of Silver Spoon. As always, she looked radiant in the outfit she was wearing. As always, she had chosen a dress which showed off her cutie mark, and had been photographed with the scarred side in full view.

“Such a brave, proud mare,” Diamond said. She pressed the flyer into her album, making a mental note to properly tape it in later.

“One day…” she said. “One day you’ll belong to me again…”

She looked back at the mare in the photo and realized she had misspoken.

“No,” she said. “I’ll belong to you.”

*******

Sweetie Belle wasn’t used to her home being empty.

The Golden Oaks Library was hardly ever completely vacant. It was one of the easier things for her to get used to after she had moved in with Twilight all those years ago. Twilight was usually milling about, shelving books or studying. Spike would be sweeping up somewhere. Owlowiscious would flit about, hooting and occasionally knocking things over. And there would be so many visitors. Ponies would come in and out to borrow books. Twist would drop in to visit Spike and Sweetie, as would Silver Spoon and the crusaders.

Applejack would come by occasionally to chat. Fluttershy would stop in for tea. Pinkie Pie would burst in and throw surprise parties for no reason. Rainbow Dash would periodically crash through the window.

It was nice to see Twilight’s friend group starting to come together again. They never were quite as close as they had been in the old days, but they weren’t as distant as they once had been either.

They never spoke of Sweetie’s sister. At least not in her presence.

It had taken Sweetie Belle a long time to feel safe at night after she came to live with Twilight. On her first night there, Twilight had come into her room at night to read her a bedtime story, and Sweetie had screamed.

“My sister used to come into my room…” was all she said in between choked sobs and awkward apologies.

It was months before Sweetie was fully comfortable in her new home. Twilight did her best to give her space, and allow her to settle in at her own pace. She had assumed, incorrectly, that Sweetie felt uncomfortable because of her.

In reality, Sweetie Belle was just learning how to feel safe. It was a new, strange feeling, and she didn’t trust it.

But the pace of life in the library helped tremendously. Twilight’s friends always seemed to have some new crisis or adventure they were wrapped up in, and Twilight’s new daughter always made it a point to involve herself.

Then there were the Crusaders. Sweetie had been a little afraid to speak to them after her return. It didn’t help that they barely spoke to her for the first few days after she moved in with Twilight.

Finally, after three days, Sweetie worked up the courage to walk to Sweet Apple Acres, where she found Scootaloo and Apple Bloom tinkering with something in the barn.

“Oh, hey, Sweetie Belle,” Scootaloo had said, as if nothing had changed. “What’s up?”

“Um, listen” Sweetie said, unconsciously tracing circles in the dirt with her left forehoof. “I guess you guys both know what was going on with me and my sister…I mean, it’s all over town…”

Her two friends nodded silently.

“I just…I hope you haven’t been avoiding me because you think I’m upset with you for not helping me with her or anything. And I hope you don’t think that you’re bad friends or anything because you didn’t notice what was going on. I didn’t WANT you to notice. I kept it a secret from the two of you because…um…”

“Because you didn’ want ta hurt yer sister, right?” Apple Bloom said. “’Cus even though she was hurtin’ ya, you still couldn’t help but love her…”

“I…yeah…” Sweetie said. “How did you know?”

“Well, once I heard the news, I thought about what it must be like to be scared a’ your own sister like that. An’ I realized that even if Applejack ever did anythin’ to hurt me real bad, I don’t think I could stop lovin’ her. Not ever. So I figured it must be the same for you.”

“Oh…so you guys knew I wasn’t mad at you?” Sweetie said.

“Of course!” Scootaloo said.

“Then…why haven’t you been talking to me?”

“Because we had a surprise for you, silly!” Scootaloo replied. “And we wanted to finish building it first!”

“Building what?”

“The trapeze!” Apple Bloom shouted triumphantly.

Sweetie blinked. “The…trapeze?”

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom looked at each other with knowing grins.

“CUTIE MARK CRUSADER ACROBATS!” they bellowed in unison. “YAY!”

Then they leaped at Sweetie Belle and hugged her as tight as they could.

And that was when Sweetie Belle finally realized she had come home.

The crusade went on for the better part of the next year. Apple Bloom was the first to receive her mark after the trio agreed to help Applejack build a new chicken coop. Scootaloo followed some time later, after completing a particularly difficult scooter jump which resulted in a broken back leg. The words “WORTH IT!” were proudly displayed on her cast.

Sweetie Belle followed several months later, when she agreed to sing at a private party the Spoon family was holding to mark the one year anniversary of the Gallery’s liberation.

She sang a duet with a filly named Happy Tune, who had spent the past year in intensive therapy at Princess Luna’s Home for Victims of Foal Abuse.

Neither foal finished the song. Sweetie’s partner broke down and began to cry halfway through the performance.

“I can't do it...I’m not okay,” Happy had said. “They want me to pretend I am, but I’m not. I can’t stop thinking about it. I just want to go back there and let them use me until I’m all gone…

“I’ll never be okay…never…”

“None of us are okay,” Sweetie had whispered, hugging Happy Tune close while dozens of concerned ponies looked on. “All of us were hurt in different ways. But we’re getting better. We’re all going to get better…”

Then she sang softly into Happy’s ear, and for the first time, Sweetie Belle’s horn began to glow.

Happy Tune drifted off into a peaceful sleep as the emblem of a heart-shaped bell appeared on Sweetie’s flank.

After the performance, Twilight had talked Sweetie’s head off about how scholars had long suspected there was some link between magic and music, but she had never seen conclusive proof before.

Sweetie was too busy jumping up and down with glee to listen.

“CRUSADE COMPLETE!” she chanted over and over with her two friends. “CRUSADE COMPLETE!”

Over the years, the library grew quiet.

Spike was the first to leave, when he and Twist decided to build their cottage together. He visited frequently, but it just wasn’t the same without the sound of him dusting or arranging the shelves.

Twilight’s friends continued to stop by, but their lives became less and less frantic and unpredictable as the years wore on and they each began to settle down. Even the frequency of Pinkie’s parties began to lessen, ever since the day she walked into the library, pregnant yet again, and joyfully shouted, “KEEPING THIS ONE!”

And then, at long last, came the acceptance letter.

“In recognition of your outstanding essay on magical music theory,” Twilight read aloud. “You are hereby granted a full scholarship to Cadance’s Academy for Gifted Unicorns! Please return th…please retur…”

Twilight couldn’t finish. Instead, she put the letter down and looked Sweetie Belle in the eyes.

“This is the proudest moment of my life,” she said, as her eyes filled with tears.

“You’re kidding, right?” Sweetie replied. “You’re the Element of Magic! You saved Equestria like three times! You were honored in Canterlot, and…”

“And today, my daughter is going to college,” Twilight said, throwing her forelegs around her. “I love you so much, Sweetie Belle.”

“I love you, too….mom.”

The word finally felt like it fit.

Now the library was quiet. Twilight had left to begin her new job in Canterlot. Owlowiscious had been adopted by Fluttershy, who was thrilled to have a new animal to look after. In two days, Raven, retired assistant to the Princess, would be taking over as Ponyville librarian.

As Sweetie contemplated her last night in her home, it struck her how different this felt from the day she watched them tear down Carousel Boutique. How, for the first time, she saw her home as a place to come back to, not to escape from.
Before lying down in her bed for the last time, Sweetie rolled up her acceptance letter and placed it in her saddlebag, whistling a brief tune in order to focus her telekenisis.

“I can’t wait until she sees it,” she said to herself. “I hope she’s proud of me…”

Sweetie Belle shut of the lights and fell into a long, peaceful sleep.

She had completely forgotten how rare those used to be.

*******

I step into the room and every head turns in my direction. Every pony stops what they’re doing and welcomes me with a rhythmic stomp of their hoof. I’m the hostess tonight, so this sort of greeting is expected. But there’s more to it than that. There’s genuine admiration in their expressions. Real warmth and respect.

I’m more than just a savvy social climber. I’m the local girl who made good. The hero who liberated the Gallery. The victim who rose above her abuser.

I’m the filly who came back from the dead.

It’s all rather embarrassing, honestly. I’m fine with hosting a society party. It’s what I’m good at, and I actually quite enjoy it these days.

But what gets me is the adulation. Being treated like some sort of hero, or worse, a role model. Being renowned, like I’m above everyone else.

That’s not who I am.

Sometimes I want to just grab the nearest pony and shout “STOP LOOKING UP TO ME! SEE THIS SCAR? I ASKED FOR THAT! I’M NOT A HERO, I’M JUST A PONY WHO BARELY MANAGED TO AVOID RUINING HER OWN LIFE!”

But being seen as a hero is good for the cause. And the cause is what keeps me going. It’s what makes all this worthwhile.
I raise my hoof to address the crowd. They instantly fall silent.

“I want to thank you all for coming this evening,” I say. “Unfortunately, Sir Peregrine could not be with us tonight as originally planned. Even as we speak, he’s on a mission, protecting Equestria’s foals from exploitation. Let’s have a round of applause for him and all the brave members of Luna’s Special Guard!”

More applause. At least this time they’re not for me.

Then I launch into my standard speech about how important it is to give generously tonight, how not even Princess Luna can do it alone, how all of us need to play our part to ensure that no foal ever has to suffer like my friends and I did. I mention that while most of the Gallery’s survivors are grown up now, many still struggle with emotional problems and they deserve the best care available. I point out how Luna’s Home is a refuge for all abused foals, not just those victimized by the Circle, and how sadly, new foals arrive there every day.

Checks are written, photos are taken. Mayor Bon Bon gets some positive press by donating some of her leftover campaign funds and getting a picture of me shaking her hoof. Just out of frame, her twin sons, two bright pink colts, spill grape juice all over my new tablecloths.

When Mayor Mare retired a year ago, someone suggested that I should run for mayor.

I can’t think of anything more terrifying.

I’ve already decided that this will be my last fundraiser here in Ponyville. In a month I’ll be in Manehattan, with a new apartment and a new start. I’ll still be part of the society scene, but I’ll be starting from the bottom up.

It’s not that I don’t love this town. But here, I’ll always be a hero, some sort of paragon to be looked up to. And that isn’t me.

I look across the room and see a dark orange mare with bright red hair. She smiles knowingly at me, raising an eyebrow. She and I have been seeing each other for some time.

We aren’t in love. But she knows how to treat me. And I know how to serve her.

She’s always here after these benefits, waiting for me. After the guests are gone and we’re all alone, she’ll rip my expensive dress off of me, ruining it forever. She’ll tie me up, hit me, use my body, then order me to prostrate myself before her and lick the dirt from her hooves. And I’ll love every moment of it.

It’s in those moments, the moments when I’m able to serve another pony and give her everything that I am, when I feel most alive.

It used to be my entire life. But now I understand that it can’t be. So I take that part of myself and put it away, letting it out only when the time is right. My new partner knows how to be forceful. She knows how to control me.

But most importantly: she knows when to stop.

That’s something I’ve always had trouble with. Limits. It’s not that I can’t control myself – it’s been a long time since those days – but it’s safer if someone else is there to keep me from taking things too far.

Normally, I would spend the night with her. But not tonight.

Because tonight, even as I make the rounds at the benefit, press the flesh and laugh at jokes, there’s only one pony on my mind. And when I think of her, all the old feelings come back. The insecurity, the fear, the sense of worthlessness. I know I’ve been free of her for a long time. I know she no longer controls me.

But there’s a part of me that will never escape Miss Rarity’s control. And thinking of her brings all that to the forefront, and reminds me of how damaged I still am.

So tonight, I will send my lover home, and sleep alone. I will take pride in the things I have done tonight to help keep foals from going through what I went through.

It’s alright, I tell myself.

It’s just for one day.

Spring is only a few weeks old in Ponyville. As I walk toward the town square, I’m taken aback by how brilliantly green everything is. The grass feels so good beneath my hooves, still damp from a brief spring rain.

It’s funny, the things I notice on days like these. It’s like my senses are in overdrive, like my whole body is extra-alert.
Because today, I’m visiting someone important to me.

I pass by a small hill, and stop to acknowledge a rock which has since been overcome by tall grass and vines. If I were to cut those plants away, I would see my own name inscribed on the stone. Once upon a time, this was my grave.

No one comes to visit it now, of course. But sometimes, when the mood strikes me, I’ll stop and spend a moment contemplating it. I may not have died, but I definitely feel like I left something of myself behind, in that basement beneath Rarity’s shop.

I nod to the tombstone, as if we have some sort of understanding, and walk away. I don’t want to be late.

“BUMP, BUMP!”

Even if I didn’t recognize the voice behind me, I’d know who it was. There’s only one pony who would greet me like that.

“Sugarlump rump!” I call back. Diamond Tiara runs up to me and gives me a hug. We’re not the best friends we once were, but it’s always so good to see her.

She sighs happily, taking me in. “I missed you so damn much,” she says. She nuzzles my neck before she lets go. It’s a bit presumptuous of her, but I don’t fight it. If anyone’s earned the right, it’s her.

I wish I could return her feelings. I wish I still felt that way about her. But something’s changed in me since the old days. It’s not that I don’t want to follow and serve another pony. But it just can’t be her. I would never tell Diamond this, but she and Rarity have one very big thing in common:

They both bring out the worst in me.

Even today, it’s so easy to fall back into bad habits when I’m around her. As we walk down the street, Diamond passes by Snips, and, almost as if by habit, throws a veiled insult in his direction.

“Hey, Snips!” she says. “I see you’ve given up on the diet! Good for you! Fat is just a state of mind, right?”

I have to stop myself from laughing. It’s not even because I thought it was very funny. It’s essentially a reflex.

Instead, I throw a stern look at Diamond, and she instantly looks crestfallen.

I decide to make small talk. We discuss Diamond Tiara’s business ventures, her travels around Equestria, and her new assistant (who she describes as “even more incompetent than the last three.”)

It isn’t long before we’re at the town square. Twist waves to us from a nearby bench. To our surprise, there’s a familiar pink pony sitting with her.

“Hey you two!” Pinkie Pie says. “I’m sooooo glad I caught you guys! I completely forgot that today was Rarity’s special day! You should really just hold it on her birthday, that way I’d never forget it! Oh, can you believe I forgot it last year, I mean, if I hadn’t gotten here in time it would have been a whole YEAR before I could send her another message!”

She pulls a letter out of her saddlebag and gives it to me. “This is just a note to tell her I love her and I miss her, and let her know what all our friends have been up to this year! Oh, and be sure to tell her about Smile! She hadn’t been born the last time I talked to her! Well, I told her about her in the letter but you should tell her too! Smile is so wonderful, I mean, look at her, she’s the most beautiful pony in the whole wide world!”

Sitting placidly in Twist’s forehooves, with a temperament that can only be described as the exact opposite of her mother’s, is Pinkie Pie’s daughter, Sassafras Smile. The light pink Earth Pony is fast asleep.

I’m not sure how I feel about telling Rarity about a new foal in town, but I promise to tell her that Pinkie is happy. She thanks me, then cradles her daughter gently and walks away. It’s rare to see Pinkie go anywhere without bouncing, but when she’s with Smile, she’s the very picture of motherly caution.

“So Sweetie isn’t back yet?” I ask Twist.

“Not yet,” she replies. “But it can’t be long now. It’s almost two o’cl-“

Right on cue, the leaves lying around the town square begin to swirl around in a circular pattern, and a moment later, a bright flash of light reveals Sweetie Belle standing before us, wearing a dragon-shaped amulet.

I run up and hug my dear friend. Diamond forces an uncomfortable cough.

“How is she?” I ask.

“She’s doing as well as can be expected,” Sweetie says. “Anyway, why are you asking me? You’ll see her in a minute, dummy.”

I laugh. I do always tend to forget basic logic when Rarity is concerned.

“Diamond, Twist, I want to thank you both,” I say. “I know you’re not fond of Rarity, and you have every right not to be. If anything, Sweetie and I are probably too forgiving. But it really means a lot that you come here every year to see us off.”

“I’m just here to support you,” Diamond says. “You’re always so emotional when you get back.”

“And I’m lucky to have you to support me,” I say with a smile.

“Before you go, I have something to show all of you,” Twist says. “Remember when I asked you all for permission to write a book about what we went through all those years ago?”

Twist reaches under the bench and pulls out a backpack. She opens it up, and reveals a hoofwritten manuscript which has been carefully stored inside.

“I just finished it last night,” she says. “I wanted the three of you to be the first ponies to see it.”

On the front page, in large ornate letters, are written the words:

FOUR LITTLE PONIES: A STORY OF SURVIVAL

BY TWIST

“Are you married to that title?” Diamond asks, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll understand when you read it,” Twist says, slightly annoyed. “I alternate chapters between our four points of view, to give the reader a full picture of-“

“Because I always liked the title ‘Blemished Diamond,’” she interrupts.

I pat Diamond on the back and give her a look that says, “You’re doing it again.”

“Oh, um…I’m sorry, Twist,” Diamond says, with noticeable sincerity.

“I like the title,” Sweetie says. “It always feels different when the four of us are together. Every emotion is amplified, you know? For better or worse.”

“Well, we went through a lot together,” Twist says. “I guess it’s only natural.”

The amulet around Sweetie Belle’s neck flashes with a magical light, and I realize it’s time. Sweetie smiles as she gives it to me.

“Anything you want me to tell her?” I ask Diamond and Twist.

“Not a damn thing,” Diamond Tiara says.

“How about you, Twist? Remember what she had me ask you last year?”

“Yeah, I do. Tell her…” Twist says. “Tell her I’m not ready to forgive her. But someday…perhaps.”

I nod, and smile at my friends as I place the amulet around my neck.

A moment later, I’m gone.

*******

The dragons have a ritual.

It’s an old and taxing rite, designed to help young dragons who are in danger of being transformed by greed. Almost every dragon goes through it at some point in his life. I’m told that Spike is likely to be one of the few exceptions. He saved himself from greed another way. With the help of a pony he once loved.

That pony was Miss Rarity.

I materialize in the exact same spot I did last year, and the year before that. I’m on a small patch of grass on an otherwise rocky mountain peak. There’s no view here, no sky to gaze up at nor any land to look down upon from above. Every side of the mountain is shrouded entirely in a thick mist. Only this small area remains clear, but if I walk out beyond that, I’m likely to step right off the mountain and fall to my death. Styingian warned me several times to stay away from the mist.

Supposedly, I’m somewhere in the Red Continent, though I have no way of telling. At this elevation, the temperature is cool enough that a pony can survive here.

The amulet on my neck has stopped glowing, but I know it’s already counting down. I have six hours here.

I turn my back to the mist, and walk toward a small cottage, the one sign of life on this otherwise empty peak. Inside lives the mountain’s only inhabitant.

The dragon rite was not meant for ponies. It is intended to purge the young dragon of his attachment to material objects, by isolating him from the entire world. He’s placed on top of a mountain peak much like this one. He’s given only the most basic necessities: food, water, shelter.

And there he stays, to meditate on the natural world around him, and slowly detach himself from all material things.

Typically, dragons remain on the mountain for decades, often longer than an entire pony lifetime. Once every five years, an elder visits them, and judges if they are worthy of being set free.

The winds beyond the mist are so unnaturally strong that even a winged dragon is likely to lose control and be fatally slammed against a mountain peak if he attempts to escape. Teleportation is the only way on and off the mountain. And for dragons, teleportation is only possible with certain enchanted gems.

Styngian thought that perhaps this ritual could cure Rarity as well. He theorized that she too had been turned into a monster by rampant desire. That perhaps being separated from the world for a long time could give her the inner focus and mental peace to finally conquer her urges.

So on that awful night eight years ago, Rarity agreed to undertake the ritual. Styngian warned her that it was possible that she would die before it was complete, and that in the best case, she would return, old and grey, to a world that had drastically changed in her absence. Princess Luna made it clear that even if she did make it back, she would never again be welcome in Equestria.

But still, Miss Rarity agreed. I’m not sure if she believes in the ritual, or if she simply sees it as the best alternative to a lifetime spent locked in a dungeon.

But at least here, she has a chance to find some peace.

Styngian granted Rarity a few small mercies: along with her daily allotment of food and water, which would be magically brought to her each morning, she was allowed to request certain materials. Paper and quills. A needle and thread. Simple fabrics. “To keep her mind alert,” Styngian explained.

But most importantly, Styngian allowed Rarity to select two ponies who would be allowed to visit her once a year, starting after she had completed six years of solitude.

She did not hesitate in her choices.

And so each year, on the anniversary of the day Rarity began her exile, the amulet Styngian gave Sweetie and I begins to glow. And when it does, each of us is allowed to spend six hours atop the misty peak with Rarity. Six hours, and then she is alone for another year of her life.

I asked Styngian why Rarity had to wait six years before we could visit her. He chuckled and said, “Because we are trying to keep her away from foals. So we shall have to wait until you two no longer qualify as such.”

I asked Miss Rarity to reconsider. I asked her to choose Pinkie, or some other grown pony, so she wouldn’t have to be alone for so long.

She smiled, and said simply. “It can only be the two of you. There is no one in this world I love more.”

The last time Miss Rarity saw me as a foal, I was crying and calling out her name, while Styngian picked her up and flew into the distance with her. Sweetie Belle, Luna bless her, held me back with all her might.

As I enter the cottage, I notice there are pieces of paper strewn everywhere. Some have drawings on them, mostly of new clothing designs, but a few are simple drawings of ponies in various basic poses. The first time I came here, I noticed a few explicit images of foals she had drawn, but they seem to be gone now. I hope this is a good sign.

On a nearby table is a huge stack of papers. At the head of the top sheet is the word “journal” and today’s date.
I wonder what she could possibly have to write about here.

Further in, I see what appear to be different dresses and garments, all arranged and hung up neatly. Most are very simple, made with limited resources, but there’s a brilliance in that simplicity that’s truly remarkable.

I push past some low-hanging dresses with my hoof, and there I see her. She’s sitting on the only chair in the house, surrounded by beautiful dresses which no one will ever see her wear.

Rarity turns and looks at me with a smile of such genuine, pure affection, that I can’t help but melt a little inside.

Even though I’m too old for her to feel in any way attracted toward me, and even though I have long since grown past my misguided attraction toward her, somehow seeing her again always makes me feel this way.

Perhaps she doesn’t deserve this brief moment of compassion. Perhaps for the things she’s done, she has no right to ask for the companionship of her sister and her most devoted friend.

But after I’m gone, she will have no one in the world to speak to, to share her life with. She will have no friend in the entire world for another year.

I look at her still-beautiful face, and I can see the awful toll this solitude has taken on her. It’s written on every line. And there are so many more lines than before.

She stands up from the chair, the gentle smile still on her lips, and walks toward me.

I’m not sure what to do next. Seeing her again after all this time always makes me feel so vulnerable, so small. Like all these years never happened, and I’m still the foolish little child who walked into her boutique one day and asked her to hurt me.

I feel like I’m about to fall into her embrace, but just before I do, she lets out a sob, and collapses into mine.

I hold her silently for a few minutes, stroking her radiant mane while she weeps quietly. Finally, she collects herself, then looks up into my eyes.

“Silver Spoon, my darling. How I’ve missed you,” she says. “Tell me, are you well?”

I could answer her truthfully. I could tell her how even though I’ve gotten better, I honestly am not sure what qualifies as “well,” or if I’m anywhere near it. I could tell her how hard it can be to play the part of Ponyville’s conquering hero, when all I want to do sometimes is throw it all away again and turn control of my life over to someone else. I could tell her how hard it can be to resist that urge, and to stay focused on who I want to be.

I could tell her how sometimes, I hate her for what she did to me. And other times, I just wish she would come home.

But right here, right now, I will tell her none of those things. Because this is my one and only afternoon with Miss Rarity, and once I’m gone, she has no one else. I won’t waste it on my problems. Every other day of the year, she is a prisoner of solitude. Every other day, she is being punished for what she did.

Just for this one, blessed day, I want her to be happy.

So I smile at her, and kiss her gently on the forehead. And in answer to her question, I say the one little word that I know will put her mind at ease:

“Yes.”

THE END