The Mare and the Mountain

by Enter Madness

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Princess Celestia, Sad
Length: 11025

Thousands of years after Equestria has died, an empress returns to the home she failed to protect.

Thousands of years after Equestria has been reduced to a barren wasteland, an empress returns to the home she failed to protect to face the ghosts of her past.

Published 2012-10-25 04:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-10-25 04:10:01 UTC

The Mare and the Mountain

There was a mare, and there was a mountain.

The mare stood, transfixed, at the base of the mountain, the road stretching in front of her. The air around her was thick with dust and noxious fumes, making it a labor just to breathe. An impenetrable cloud of soot and ash hung in the sky, blotting out all but the brightest of the sun’s rays. Deep scars cut across the ground, splitting it like fresh wounds. Thick green gasses were belched forth from the earth, choking the air with the stench of death and decay. A freezing wind usually blew across the landscape, but it had fallen still for the time being.

The mare was looking up at the mountain. They had once been old friends, her and it. She had lived on the mountain long ago, but had not been back for many thousands of years. The massive girth of the behemoth before her intimidated her as it had never done before. The summit was obscured from her sight by the cloud of ash. She could not see it, no matter how hard she squinted or how far back she craned her neck. In her prime, she would not have thought twice about simply flying up to the summit, but such an action was beyond her now. She looked back at her wings, or rather, where her wings used to be. The right one was missing, replaced by a small stub, and the left hung gimp and useless at her side. She shook her head. She had grieved for her loss long ago and had come to terms with it. She turned her head back around and looked at the mountain.

She took the first step.

Her joints ached as she moved, stiff and sore from constant use. The journey back to the mountain had been a long one. Her once-white coat had been marred by millennia of dust and grime, and was now a dull grey. Once resplendent, her mane had been cropped short, vanity and beauty being a thing of the past. Her hooves were almost always caked with dirt and grime. Her throat burned with thirst, and her stomach groaned with an intense hunger. But her journey wasn't over yet. Her hooves made a small, hollow sound as she walked, the noise her only companion in the silence of her dead world.

The mare looked around as she walked, distant memories flooding her vision with sights and sounds that were no longer there. She could almost see the emerald green of the trees and the grass that had lined the edges of the path, could almost smell the fresh, new smell that rolled off of the plants when Spring was in its infancy, could almost swear that she heard the spritely chirping of bluejays and whippoorwills grace her ears with their melodies. But all of that was gone now. The plants had been replaced with barren rock. The smell of Spring had been replaced with the stench of toxins. The birds had long since perished, their melodies dying with them. Then, a soft humming sounded through the air.

The melody was long and low, full of haunting notes. The mare poked her head up and looked around before realizing that it was her own vocal chords that were producing the sound. She was surprised to hear a sound other than the clopping of her hooves that had been her sole traveling companion for so many long years, but it was not unwelcome. She allowed her memories to guide her music, recreating a piece she knew from long ago, although she could not recall from where.

The long notes followed her down the road, her steps falling in with the beat of the melody. Soon, she was marching, as if at a funeral, head low, stride careful and sorrowful. Soon, she ran out of notes to hum. The rest of the song wouldn't come to her.

The silence that followed was deafening. It pressed down on her, pushing in from all sides, irrational panic gripping her chest until she thought she would suffocate. She needed sound, any sound would do to drown out the terrible silence. That small taste of music had ignited a need that she never knew existed, and she quickly started humming the song over again. The mare sighed in relief as the silence retreated, and she continued her trek, accompanied once again by her dirge.

The wind that had been so welcomingly absent now returned with a vengeance, chilling the mare to the bone and kicking up a layer of dust. The faint outline of the road had faded into nonexistence as she climbed higher, but still she continued on. She knew she had to be close, and she would have shelter if she could just make it a little further.

The mare was hurrying now. She broke into a trot, despite the protest of her aching hooves. Although she could no longer see the road, she trusted her memory to get her where she was going. Then, she fell. One step her hooves met the ground, and the next, air. She tumbled forward, making contact with the side of a curved incline. She winced in pain, but no cry escaped her lips, even as she scraped roughly along the wall, shaped like a bowl, into a large basin.

The mare simply lay there for a while, not having the strength or the conviction to stand. Her side throbbed painfully, and she was afraid she had broken something. She thought about just lying there in the basin, eventually wasting away into nothingness. She felt it would be a fitting fate for her, but she knew she couldn’t accept it. She had come back to the mountain for a reason, a mission that was too important to abandon, even if she was thousands of years too late.

Somehow, the mare found the strength to pull herself to her hooves. She stood, panting, until she felt strong enough to move forward. Her first few steps were shaky, and she winced every time one of her right hooves hit the ground, sending a fresh wave of pain up her bruised side. Step by step, she worked back up to a normal pace. She knew where she was, but she would have to find a way out. It was so familiar, yet it seemed so alien to her.

She had fallen into the basin where the river had once rushed underneath the drawbridge, the only way to access her city by ground. She didn’t expect the drawbridge to be intact, but she knew of another way in. The walls of the basin provided welcome relief from the freezing gusts of wind. The mare looked up at the large groove worn in the wall where a majestic waterfall used to flow freely from the summit of the mountain. The source had certainly dried a long time ago, a change the mare counted as a good one, at least for her. The stairs she was seeking would’ve been inaccessible otherwise.

The mare followed the wall to her left until she came upon a set of stairs that had been worn down through the ages. She pulled herself up the ramp and out of the basin. When she was finally clear of the basin, she looked back. She would have to be more careful if she wanted to make it to the summit.

The wind had died down once again, now just a chilling breeze that whistled softly through the air. It felt good to the mare, who was now sweating from her ordeal with the basin. The wind quickly dried the beads of sweat, though, and froze them to her coat. She looked ahead, knowing that she would have to find shelter before the sun went down. The nights would kill any pony foolish enough to be caught out in them.

The mare started forward. The wall that had once surrounded the entrance to the city was now in ruins. Several large chunks of it blocked her path, and she instinctively attempted to use her magic to clear them away. This proved to be a huge mistake, as an icy pain shot through her skull like a lightning bolt. The world swam in her eyes, and she suddenly found the ground rushing up to meet her. When her vision finally cleared, she tentatively reached up with a hoof and felt out the stub where her horn used to be. It still throbbed painfully at the base. She sighed wistfully as her eyes began to water. The loss of her wings had been painful, sure, but losing her horn had been devastating. Her metaphysical connection to the great fiery sphere in the sky had been shattered right along with it. A part of her had died that day, a part that would never be returned. She had been shocked to find that the sun still moved on its own, without any intervention from her, but it had been a bittersweet surprise. If she did not move then sun, then what purpose did she have? She had not found the answer in the wastes, and she feared she never would.

When the mare felt she could continue, she gingerly brought herself to her hooves and began climbing over the wall. It was times like this that she desperately missed the use of her wings. She could still feel them back there sometimes, like how ponies who had lost limbs would swear that they could feel them itching. Her horn had been more recent, and occasionally she still tried to instinctively use magic. This only led to suffering.

The broken stones in her path did not make it easy, but she eventually was able to pull herself to the top of the largest chunks of the wall. Her gaze was aimed down at her hooves. She didn’t want to look at the ruins, didn’t want to be reminded of her utter failure to her people, yet she knew she must. She did not carry the burden then, but she would be damned if she was not going to carry it now. She looked up, and gasped.

It was worse than she had dared imagine. No discernible buildings remained, only fallen stones and ash. There were crevasses cut into the rock, from which fire spewed forth, scorching the streets of the once beautiful city. The cloud of dust and ash was thicker here, clouding out any fresh air that may have remained, causing the mare to hack and cough. The trauma to her bone-dry throat was unbearable, and the mare quickly climbed down off of the rocks and began her venture into the city itself, anything to escape the cloud. The mare looked ahead and spotted her destination.

There, off in the distance, she could barely make out the crumbling outline of the palace. The building was now a mere shadow of its former self. The base had collapsed, causing the whole thing to lean sickeningly toward the ground, stuck in time at the moment it was falling. The mare was amazed that the majority of the building was still standing. She guessed the old enchantments had held up after all. Every one of the towers that had once stood vigilant guard over the castle were now in ruin, save the one that was her destination.

Her tower.

The mare steadily made her way through the streets of the city. Even in the absence of signs, she knew exactly where every street was, and what it was called. She passed Pine Avenue, Las Pegasus Street, Fillydelphia Boulevard, Celestia Way…

The mare froze as the last name crossed her mind. She turned and retched, producing a painful acid, as there was no food in her stomach. It burned her mouth and throat, but she didn’t care. She deserved it. She had deserved every horrible thing that had happened to her since she left. What she didn’t deserve was that name. Everypony had looked up to her, had counted on her in times of strife, and she had abandoned them. The mare fell to her knees, shuddering as sobs wracked her body. Hot tears ran down her face, some reaching her mouth and mixing themselves with the taste of ash and bile.

The air grew colder. The mare knew she needed to move, but she couldn’t. Her guilt and her cowardice held her in place. She wanted so badly for it to be over, she just wanted to lie there and abandon her mission, allow the cold and the elements to take her, as long as it provided relief from the torture she had endured. Then, a single memory invaded her thoughts.

(*)

She was sitting in her study. She could recall it so clearly, it was almost as if she were there. The warmth from the fireplace bathed the room in a soft, comfortable heat, a gentle, flickering glow providing just enough light to read by. Although it was the middle of the day, the mare had the curtains drawn. Today, she preferred the light of the fire.

She shifted her gaze from her work to the window, feeling a sudden urge to throw it open and fly away. She let out a small laugh and shook her head. Of course, she would never think of leaving her people. She was their princess, and they relied on her.

The mare’s work was interrupted by a loud boom and a wave of color shining through the curtains. She stood up from her desk.

A sonic rainboom? she thought.

The mare’s coat bristled, standing on end. An strong magical disturbance had filled the air. The mare wasted no time in ordering her guards to search the grounds for intruders before throwing open her window and taking to the sky. Something this powerful had to be contained. She circled around, attempting to sense the source of the disturbance.

There

A dragon had grown out of one of the school's exam halls. The mare banked toward it, horn alight, prepared to face whatever foul beast was causing this mayhem. When she landed on the windowsill however, she froze. There, in the middle of the room, was a filly, practically a toddler. Celestia stood, mouth agape. A little filly had done all this? Celestia approached the filly carefully, wary of the bolts of magical energy that she was discharging. She put a hoof on the filly's shoulder and spun her around, prepared to subdue her if necessary, but the look on the filly's face changed her mind. The little foal was terrified by what was happening to her. After the briefest moment of indecision, Celestia smiled down on her. All fear that the filly felt was washed away with that smile and soon she had returned to normal.

The offer for the filly to become the mare's personal student left the mare's mouth before she knew what she was saying. The little filly danced with joy at the offer. The mare felt a warmth and joy inside of her like she had never felt before, and she knew in that instant that she wanted to be part of this filly's life forever.

(*)

The mare remained transfixed on the memory. She could see it as clear as day. It wasn't cloudy like most of her other memories from that time. It was like she was watching the memory play out in front of her. When the vision concluded, the mare felt an emotion budding in her chest that she had not felt for many long years. It was joy. She remembered the utter bliss that the filly’s company had brought with it, the many long days spent talking about one subject or another, how the seemed to have a never-ending parade of questions that the mare happily answered if she could. The mare felt warmth and energy returning to her aching bones, flowing through her and giving her the energy she had not had for too long. She got to her feet and began to walk.

It was slow going. She had to take long detours around the pits and along the outskirts of the city, and she was losing light. She knew she couldn't survive the night without shelter, regardless of how many fond memories she held on to. When she finally made it to the remains of the palace, the sun had set, and the temperature was dropping rapidly. The mare lingered at the entrance for a moment before pushing herself to walk through the threshold.

She was now in the main hall. The ground was littered with debris from the ceiling. A thick layer of dust covered everything in sight. In the middle of the hall rested a fountain, with a stone statue of the mare’s own likeness striking a majestic pose. The mare did a double take on the fountain, and then did something she had not done in too long. She laughed. The sound was raspy, like sandpaper, and full of bitter irony at what she saw. It hurt her throat, but she couldn’t help it.

The statue was completely intact, save for the fact that the horn and the wings had been broken off.

The mare’s bitter laughter lessened into a bitter chuckle before dying off completely. She could feel her eyelids drooping, and needed to get some rest. She had a long day ahead of her tomorrow. She trudged around the fountain to the right, making her way through a doorway and into a much smaller hall. She made her way through the palace, instinct and memory guiding her more than conscious thought. She only hoped that her old room was still intact.

She reached the final staircase, the one that spiraled up and up, eventually leading to her destination. She sighed and began slowly pulling herself up the stairs, one by one. Each step became a little more difficult than the last, until she had to stop and rest only halfway up. The energy provided by her fond memory had faded. She scowled, silently scolding herself for her weakness. If she couldn’t even make it up a simple flight of stairs, what hope had she to make it up the mountain? She could never forgive herself if she failed to. It was just too important. She steeled her resolve and continued climbing.

When she reached the top, she was panting and sweat was pouring down her face. She didn’t care; she had reached the top. She relished the small victory before proceeding toward her old chambers. She paused just outside the door, which had been kept intact by the enchantments she had placed on the room in ages past. She wondered what she was even doing here. She knew the room would only bring back painful memories, and she didn’t deserve what little comfort it would provide. Still, she needed shelter, and she could think of no better option. She pushed open the door.

When the room greeted the mare, she gasped. She had never expected the enchantments to hold up this well. There was a thick layer of dust on everything, but otherwise it was exactly as she had left it. She had to squint to see everything in the dark, but it hardly mattered since she knew the room so well.

The walls were a soft, off-white color, a color that put one at ease. The canopy bed was still intact, the silk curtains colored in shades of red and orange and yellow, conjuring up images of a gorgeous sunset. The many baubles and trinkets that the mare had collected over her lifetime were displayed on small tables and stands everywhere, remnants of a happier time. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with as many books as could possibly fit, and then some. The right-hoof wall was almost completely taken up by a massive window that led out onto a balcony overlooking the rest of the barren city.

The sight of the room was almost too much for the mare. She hadn’t dared hope that it would still be intact, but here it was, just as she had left it. Then a thought struck her. She dismissed it at first, but it became too tempting for her to ignore. She made her way to the left, into her bathroom. It was just as immaculate as the bedroom. The ornate, gilded bathtub and sink were both still intact. If her hunch was correct, then she was about to be a very happy mare. She walked over to the sink, reached up with her hoof, and turned the handle.

She was correct.

The mare squealed with delight as water rushed out of the spigot. She figured that the self-sustaining water system must've been affected by the preservation enchantments, too. The mare leaned her head down and took a long draught of the cool water, relishing in the feeling of it sliding down her parched throat. She quenched her thirst and forced herself to stop drinking.

When she raised her head, she found herself looking into a pair of dull purple eyes, and she jumped back, startled. The eyes jumped back too, and it took the mare a moment to realize she was looking at herself in the mirror. It had been so long since she had seen her reflection. Her face was thin and gaunt, her eyes sunken, thick purple bags hanging underneath them like eggplants. Her eyes lacked the luster that they had once shined with, now strangers to joy, and happiness, and laughter. The eyes looking back at her were hollow, filled with strife and misery. She looked away, blinking back the tears that threatened to form. She once again began looking around the bathroom.

Her eyes wandered to the tub, and inspiration struck once again.

(*)

The mare emerged from her bathroom some time later, feeling like a new pony. No longer was her coat dirty and her mane matted. Gone was the dirt and grime from her hooves and the dull ache from her bones. She felt better than she had in over a thousand years. Her stomach growled.

Sadly, the mare had no food. She was sure the kitchen would be empty, and the trek was beyond her tired bones. She attempted to ignore the intense hunger, instead heading for the bed. She noticed something on the bed that she had missed before. There was a note. The mare lay down on the bed and leaned over, straining her eyes to read the note in the dark. It read:

Dear Princess Celestia,

We are waiting at the summit.

Love,

Your Eternally Faithful Student,

Twilight Sparkle

The mare looked away from the note. She could feel fresh tears forming in her eyes. Seeing that name, that beautiful name after so many years was heart-wrenching. She had even signed the note with her old title. How could she still be faithful to the mare after what the mare had done? How could that wonderful unicorn still look up to her, when she herself couldn’t even bear to look at her own reflection? How could her student feel any emotions besides rage and pain toward the mare, let alone love? The mare already knew they were at the summit; that was why she came. Once again, a memory took over her thoughts, this one more recent, taking place a scant sixty years after the other one.

(*)

The mare walked. She could’ve flown, but she did not feel like it. She had been walking for days, but she wasn't tired. Her pace was slow, but she was actually running. Running away from her past, running away from her failure. She told herself that she was justified, that she was looking for her sister, but she knew the truth. Her sister was dead, now only an excuse the mare used to avoid her mistakes.

The landscape around her was not yet ruined, the cloud having not yet reached this far west. The griffons had retreated to the coast, so she didn’t expect any confrontation. Then, a large shadow passed over her.

She looked up and what she saw scared and confused her. It was a dragon, barely an adult by dragon standards, but still much bigger than the mare. The dragon flew circled around, and the mare instantly recognized it. It was Spike, the only dragon she had ever had the pleasure of calling a friend. The mare stopped and lowered her head, leveling her horn at the dragon. They were no longer friends.

Spike descended, eventually landing some distance in front of the mare. She relaxed a little when he didn't attack, but remained wary. They regarded each other silently for what seemed like an eternity until the mare finally decided to speak. She started, but the dragon cut her off.

“Don’t,” he said. His voice had grown much deeper since she had last seen him. “I don’t want to hear what you have to say. I don’t want to hear you apologize, I don’t want to hear you try to justify what you’re doing, or what you did. I told you I would kill you if I ever saw you again." The mare lowered her horn again. Spike shook his head. "But, that's not why I'm here. I’m just here to deliver a message. For her.” He took the mare's stunned silence as an opportunity to continue. “She wanted me to tell you that her and the others will be waiting at the summit.”

Although her demeanor did not change, the mare had inwardly cringed at the dragon’s words. She hated herself for what she was doing, but just couldn’t face the ponies she had abandoned. She was a coward, she knew it, and she couldn't make things right. But at least she could try.

“Spike, wait,” she said. The dragon stopped and turned around to face her, wearing an intense scowl on his face, but saying nothing. The mare continued. “I know I hurt her, hurt all of you. I hurt all of my little ponies, and I’m sorry. I truly am. I just want you to know that—“

“Save it,” Spike said roughly, cutting her off. She was about to protest, but he interrupted her again. “Don’t you get it?” he said. “I don’t want to hear it. What you did was unforgivable, and you want to say you’re sorry? Sorry! If you’re so sorry, then why don’t you go back and make it right!? Huh? Why don’t you?” The dragon’s voice grew as his anger took hold. Tears of rage and frustration were now welling up in his eyes.

“Spike, I—“ the mare began, but was cut off again.

“Shut up!” He was shouting now. “Do you know how much you hurt her? Do you have any idea the pain she has to live with!? She thinks it’s her fault that all of those ponies died, thinks that she’s the reason you left, and she is killing herself trying to make it right! I catch her crying every day, trying to hide her tears so she can be strong for the kingdom that YOU abandoned, that YOU were supposed to be responsible for, and for what? To ‘look for your sister,’ even though we both know she’s dead!?”

“But it’s hopeless,” the mare said, her protest sounding small and weak, “Equestria can’t be saved, not by her, not by me, not by anypony.”

“You think she doesn’t know that? She knows it’s hopeless, and that makes her fight for it even harder! She is twice the pony you will ever be, and yet she still looks up to you. She still talks about you like you’re coming back, like you’re going to save us and return Equestria to normal. I hope you can live with yourself. You’ve doomed a kingdom and ruined any chance Twilight had at happiness, and she doesn’t even blame you for it.” With that, Spike crouched and launched himself skyward, aiming back toward Equestria.

The mare simply sat, tears streaming down her face. Everything he said was true. She looked in the direction she had been heading, then back in the direction Spike was flying. Back and forth, back and forth, until finally she stood and resumed walking, away from Equestria.

(*)

The mare lay on the bed, feeling cold and empty inside. She shook with sobs. The first memory had been a blessing, but with this one the opposite was true. All of the emotional agony the conversation had brought with it originally now returned, reducing the mare to a quivering pile of pity and self-loathing. She crawled across the bed, setting her head on the pillow and burying herself in the covers. Her sobs eventually ceased, but her tears still flowed as she drifted off to sleep.

That night, the mare had a dream. She was running, running as fast as she could, but she did not know why, only that it was important. She was running through a dark forest, the blackness closing in all around her. The limbs of the trees reached for her, trying to trap her, but she tore away. Then, she heard laughter off in the distance, and she ran even faster. Through the trees ahead of her, she caught glimpses of something blue, a deep indigo shade that would only cross her field of vision for a moment before vanishing and laughing again. Each time she got close, the pony she was chasing pulled ahead and giggled. The branches around the mare scraped along her body, causing bloody scratches to appear all along her form. Then, the edge of the forest appeared before her. She was almost free.

The mare broke into the clearing. There was a large meadow containing a single pony. The pony turned and faced the mare, the full moon silhouetting her form. The mare gasped. It was her sister.

Princess Luna stood in the clearing, regarding the mare with laughter in her eyes and a smile on her face. She was humming a song that was familiar to the mare. It was the song she had hummed on her way up the mountain. That was where she had heard it before; her sister’s favorite piece of music had come to mind during the mare's trek on the road.

Luna beckoned to the mare, who tried to approach, but found that the branches held her back. They were wrapped around her hooves and her torso, preventing her from completely escaping the forest. She struggled and strained, but the harder she pulled away, the tighter they became.

“Sister!” the mare called. “Please, help me!”

Luna approached her sister, but did not get too close.

“You did not help me, sister. Why should I help you?” Her voice was ice. The mare was aghast. Her sister had never spoken to her like that.

“Please, sister, it wasn’t my fault!” the mare said. “How was I to know what was going to happen?”

“Because I told you!” Luna snapped. “I told you that I saw the calamity approaching! You refused to listen, and look where it got you. Look where it got me! I am dead, Tia, and it is all your fault!” Luna was now towering over her sister, her eyes filled with blind fury.

The mare cowered under her sister’s wrath. She wanted to deny it, to say it was all a mistake, but that wasn't the truth. So she said the only thing she could.

“I know.”

Luna immediately shrank. “What was that?” she asked.

The mare looked up at her sister. “I know it’s my fault. When you came to me about the calamity, I should have listened, but I didn’t want to believe it.” She was sniffling now as tears formed. “I didn’t want to believe that there was anything that I couldn’t protect the kingdom from. My foolishness is the reason you are gone. I regret my actions every day. Please, I beg you sister, can you forgive me?”

Luna looked at her sister for a long while, regarding her with searching eyes. The mare soon found herself in a loving embrace, Luna’s hooves wrapped warmly around her. Luna leaned down and whispered in her ear.

“Of course I forgive you.”

Suddenly, the vines that bound the mare came undone, and she was free. Her sister pulled away, though, and turned around to walk away.

“Wait!” the mare called out. “Where are you going?”

“Where does anypony go?” Luna asked without turning around, before galloping off into the horizon and vanishing in the light of the moon. The mare tried to follow, but no matter how hard she ran, she could never escape the meadow, could never reach her sister. She ran and ran until she couldn’t run anymore, and she slumped down and began to sob.

“Hey now, there’s no need for that, Celestia.” The mare looked up, surprised, into the caring gaze of a lavender unicorn.

Then she woke up.

(*)

The mare lay on her back, gazing up at the ceiling of the canopy bed. Her cheeks were stained with dried tears, and a painful hunger still clawed at her stomach, but she was too deep in thought to care. She knew her sister held an incredible power over the realm of dreams. Could that have actually been Luna she was conversing with? Or was it simply a phantom conjured up by the memories of being home? The mare shook her head. That train of thought only led to false hope and misery.

The mare didn't want to leave the bed. It was the warmest and most comfortable she had been in years. She felt that if she exited the bed, the weight of her emotions would crush her to death, but she knew she had to leave. She still had a mountain to climb.

The mare pulled herself out from under the covers and got to her feet. She walked over to the window and reared back onto her hind hooves, pushing the window open and stepping out onto the balcony. Her eyes automatically gravitated to a certain spot on the broken landscape. Where Ponyville used to be, there was now only an enormous crater. The mare shook her head and sighed, going back into the room. So many fond memories, and so many regrets. She forced herself to shake the thoughts away. If she wanted to make it to the summit by nightfall, she would have to get going.

The mare got another drink and left the room. She descended the spiral staircase and trudged through the palace, lost in thought about what could be on the summit of the mountain. The back exit of the palace greeted her and before she knew it, she was standing at the base of the path up the mountain.

She took the first step.

She climbed and climbed, the mountain trail becoming dangerously precarious. One misstep would mean certain death for the mare. She treaded carefully.

The mare eventually came to a much wider, much steeper section of the path. In front of her, the ash cloud grew astoundingly thick, but there was no other way up the mountain. The mare briefly debated turning back, but pushed the thought from her head. She took a deep breath and plunged into the cloud.

The mare made her way hastily through the cloud, but it never seemed to end. No matter how far she went, it stretched on a little further. Her lungs burned as she struggled to hold her breath. She eventually couldn't hold it any longer. She exhaled air and inhaled the cloud. Breathing became impossible, the mare being reduced to coughing and wheezing. She was suffocating, and powerless to stop it. She tried to back down off the trail, but the cloud blocked her sight and she fell. Her vision swam as her brain was deprived of oxygen, seven-pointed stars dancing in her vision. The last thought that ran through her head was of how badly she had failed Twilight Sparkle.

(*)

Celestia felt content. She lay on the grass with her eyes closed, basking in the warmth of the sun’s rays. The soft growth beneath her tickled her underbelly pleasantly, and she could hear the delightful chirping of birds all around. She could spend eternity here. Then she shifted slightly, awakening a pain in her right side. If this was the afterlife, then why did she feel pain?

She opened her eyes and quickly got to her hooves. She was not dead, she realized. But if she wasn’t dead, then where was she? She looked around in amazement. The first thing she noticed was the sun. Her sun. It was hanging high in the sky, producing warmth that spread a tingling joy throughout her body. The next thing was the grass. There was a layer of soft, thick, lush grass all over the ground. She leaned her head down and tasted it. It was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted in her life. All else was forgotten as she ate to her heart's content.

The next thing she took an interest in was the trees. Every one was an apple tree. She wandered up to one and examined the fruit it bore. It was plump and ripe, the red skin catching the light of the sun. She leaned forward and took a bite out of the low-hanging fruit. She amended her previous thought. That was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted in her life. She chewed thoughtfully as the sweetness of the apple rolled over her taste buds before she swallowed it.

Then the sounds that graced her ears caught her full attention. She could hear bugs buzzing, birds singing their melodies from the treetops, the leaves of the trees softly rustling as a gentle breeze blew through them. She was lost in the melody of nature.

“Enjoying yourself?” The deep, booming voice made Celestia nearly jump out of her skin. She quickly regained her composure and turned to face the whatever had spoke. It was a dragon. She knew of only one dragon with the same purple and green color scheme as this one.

“Hello Spike,” Celestia said politely, as if she weren’t at all surprised to see him.

“Hello, Celestia,” he replied. His voice was a resounding bass, rattling the teeth of anything around with every word, but contained within it a certain wisdom acquired with age.

The silence between them grew and grew, stretching on for an uncomfortably long time, neither party having any clue what to say. Finally, Celestia couldn’t stand it anymore.

“How’s the weather up there?” she asked, a small smile playing at her lips. Spike let out a low chuckle, which Celestia returned, until both of them were laughing out loud. Spike’s laugh was like dropping a mountain on a bass drum the size of a continent.

“Very fair,” he replied when he had stopped laughing enough to speak. Celestia looked around at her surroundings.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Where else? We are at the summit.”

Celestia examined the environment with a newfound interest. The top of the mountain must have been clear of the ash cloud, she realized. She walked to the edge of the plateau and looked over, seeing the top of the cloud not a hundred feet below. She looked back up at Spike, who had grown considerably since she had last seen him. He was laying down, his body stretching around the outer edge of the plateau and out of sight until the tip of his tail looped back around, nearly able to reach where Celestia was standing. His scales were still purple, but they were duller than they had been, marred by age. His left eye was permanently shut, a long jagged scar running across his face and eyelid. Fangs poked out of the corners of his mouth, each one the size of Celestia’s torso.

“But how?” she asked. “How is all of this possible?” She gestured to the lush flora and abundant fauna that were growing at the top of a mountain. Her question was punctuated as a bunny rabbit poked its head out of the bushes at the edge of the orchard and regarded her curiously.

“Why, the magic of friendship, of course.” He said this as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You of all ponies should be able to feel the love in the air, Celestia.”

Celestia closed her eyes and focused. She realized that the warmth she felt was not the same warmth that the sun provided, but something more pleasant. The air was warm and inviting and just being around it soothed Celestia’s heart and soul, putting her troubled mind at ease. She looked at Spike again and nodded before another question entered her mind.

“How did I get here?” she asked.

“Well, my hearing may not be what it used to, but I heard your coughing and wheezing in the cloud. I poked my head down and blew away the ash, and there you were. I always knew you would return eventually; I just wondered if you would find me alive when you did.” The dragon looked off wistfully to the horizon.

“Thank you, Spike,” she said solemnly. Her voice snapped him back to the present.

“It was no trouble, Celestia. Now, I have a question for you.” He took Celestia’s silence as an invitation to continue. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask about your injuries. I know it can be painful to talk about.” As he said this he unconsciously turned the left side of his face away from her. “I only want to know what took you so long to come back.”

Celestia sighed. She wasn’t even sure she knew herself. She blamed it on guilt and on cowardice, but was there something else?

“I think… I think it was because I was scared. I was scared to see what my kingdom had become; I was scared of facing my mistakes. But there’s something else, something I can’t quite seem to grasp.” Her face twisted up in concentration. Now that her mind was clearer, new emotions were coming to light. “I think it was because of her, most of all. I was scared that she would hate me, but I was even more scared that she wouldn’t. I don’t think I could’ve looked at her and seen forgiveness in her eyes. It would’ve torn me apart. I was so determined to punish myself that I thought I didn’t deserve to return.” She looked back at Spike, who regarded her with sympathetic eyes but said nothing.

“What about you, Spike? What happened after I, um, left?” Spike sighed.

“That is a long story, Celestia, a long story filled with pain and woe. I do not wish to recount it, but if you wish to hear it, I owe you at least that much.” Spike looked down at her. She could see the sadness of thousands of years of pain in his emerald eye, and wondered if hers looked the same.

“You don’t owe me anything Spike,” she said. “If anything I should be apologizing to you. I—“

But Spike silenced her with a snort. “I forgave you long ago, Celestia. Our lives are too long to be filled with guilt and grudges. I behaved irrationally last time we met, and I sincerely apologize. I let my emotions get the better of me, a mistake which I regret wholeheartedly. Do I have your forgiveness?”

Celestia was touched by Spike’s admission of guilt. She smiled warmly at him. “Of course I forgive you,” she said, echoing Luna’s words from her dream. This made the dragon smile in turn, his mouth creaking as it formed the shape.

“Perhaps it would be easier if I showed, rather than told,” he said. Celestia was confused, but allowed him to continue. “You might want to stand back,” he said, and Celestia stepped to the side. Spike took a deep breath and expelled a burst of flame from his maw.

The flame did not touch the grass or the trees, instead curling up on itself, creating a floating orb of fire in the meadow. The fire burned with all the colors of the rainbow. Oranges gave way to reds and purples, greens and blues darting here or there, a spectacular spectrum of color, constantly changing and reforming. Celestia was entranced by the spectacle, staring at it wide-eyed. Then it started forming shapes. Colors blended and moved, creating images and pictures until Celestia realized what she was looking at. It was a rough outline of Canterlot, as it had been before the calamity. The waterfall still flowed, the whites and golds of the city shone brilliantly, magnificent as ever despite the relative crudeness of the rendering.

Then, the scene changed. The view shifted to one that Celestia recognized instantly, as she had been standing there earlier that morning. It was the view from her balcony. Equestria still looked beautiful, the rolling hills stretching in all directions, broken up by the small village of Ponyville. But then, the scene changed again. The sky grew dark and menacing. Celestia knew what was coming next and she wanted to look away, but she was transfixed.

The land was whole one moment, and broken the next. Huge chunks of earth simply vanished, while other parts seemed to explode outward, raining down enormous chunks of the land on itself and its inhabitants. Tremors that could be felt all across the kingdom tore through the ground. Then, with a particularly violent tremor, Ponyville sank into the ground. The entire town broke free from its earthly bonds and slowly began descending until, little by little, it vanished from sight, leaving nothing behind but a gaping pit and memories.

The scene changed as each of the major Equestrian cities followed in turn. A raging fire caused by a lightning strike burned Manehatten to the ground. Another series of brutal earthquakes turned Fillydelphia to rubble, and Baltimare was devastated by a tsunami. Even Cloudsdale could not escape the destruction. A vicious thunderstorm hit the floating metropolis, tearing it to shreds with repeated lightning strikes and gale-force winds. Celestia could feel her eyes welling up, but forced herself to keep watching.

The scene changed again. It showed the roads that led to Canterlot, the only city that was still standing. Ponies flooded into the city, refugees from every corner of Equestria. Every single one had lost their homes, and most had lost friends or family to the catastrophe. Ponies packed the city to its limits until eventually some ponies had to be denied entry. Riots broke out, ponies demanding to be let in. The Equestrian Royal Guard had to enforce martial law to keep order. The streets transformed to slums before Celestia’s eyes. She never imagined that it had been this bad.

The scene changed once more to the throne room in the palace. There, sitting in front of the throne, up in front of an enormous crowd of ponies, was a group of six. One pink, one blue, one yellow, one white, one orange, and one purple. The Elements of Harmony.

The lavender pony, a unicorn, began speaking. The vision produced no sound, but Celestia could guess what was being said. The unicorn had the rapt attention of everypony in the room. They hung on her every word as though they were starving and she was the only one who could feed them, which was not far off from the truth.

The flame changed its display again. It showed the orange earth pony and the purple unicorn arguing, shouting at each other, after which the orange one stormed out. It changed again to show the white pony, another unicorn, talking with the purple one before she herself left. One by one, each of the other Elements left the lavender unicorn, until she was all alone. The scene displayed an image of the unicorn crying before changing once again.

It showed a view of Equestria, the cloud now having spread across most of the land. The view went inside the castle, to the purple unicorn sitting at a desk. She was much older now, and she was scribbling something down with a quill. She finished writing and levitated the paper over to a stack with four others. She sealed these in envelopes and floated them out of view. She then got up from her desk and began walking until she came upon a purple and green dragon. She said something to the dragon, who then took off and flew out of sight.

The scene changed again, this time showing Celestia’s chambers. The lavender unicorn was standing beside her bed, and she levitated a note over, placing it gingerly on the bedspread. A single tear rolled down her cheek before she turned and left the room.

The scene changed one final time. It showed the unicorn, now with the other five Elements of Harmony in tow, walking up the mountain to the summit. They stood upon a rocky plateau in a circle, each facing each other, until a soft glow began emitting from their bodies. After a bright flash, they were entombed in crystal, each tomb matching the color of the pony it contained. The view zoomed out, showing the dragon returning to find his friends like this, trying in vain to undo whatever they had done. Time sped up in the vision, millennia passing before Celestia’s eyes. First the grass grew, then the trees, then insects and birds and other animals arrived. Over time the dragon grew larger, never abandoning his vigil, until he grew to resemble the dragon lying beside Celestia now. Then the flow of fire was cut off, ending the vision.

Celestia looked at Spike. His eye was watering. Celestia realized that she was crying too. She had cried so much in the last two days, she was wondering if she would ever run out of tears.

There was nothing either of them could say. Celestia knew she had failed, but nothing she could say would change that. She hated herself for her failure, and had to attempt to atone for what she had done. She looked off into the forest.

“Can I see them?” she asked. Spike followed her gaze, but he didn’t have to look to know what she meant.

“She wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replied. “I will wait here, should you wish to return.”

“What do you mean, ‘should I wish to return?’”

Spike just nodded in the direction of the grove. “Go, Celestia. She is waiting.”

Celestia was about to say something else, but decided against it. So instead, she stood up and walked off in the direction of the forest.

The grass felt cool and soft under her hooves. She reached the shaded edge of the tree line and paused. It was eerily reminiscent of the forest from her dream the night before. She attempted to shake off the thoughts as she pushed herself to continue, but they clung to the back of her mind.

There was no clear path through the forest. Celestia circled around trees, simply meandering through, the fading sunlight dappling her coat with tiny shafts of light. She was aimed toward what she thought was the middle of the forest. She could feel the sense of warmth and love grow stronger as she ventured further into the forest. She knew she had to be getting close.

She broke into a clearing. She looked around, recognizing the meadow she was in as the one from her dream, but there was one major difference.

There, in the middle of the meadow, rested six ornate tombs.

Celestia approached the formation. There were six rectangular blocks of gemstone, each a different color, each at chest height. One pink, one blue, one yellow, one white, one orange, and one purple, arranged in a circle like the petals of a flower. Celestia walked up to one and gasped as she looked down.

It was the tomb of the orange pony, but that was not what startled her. Inside the tomb, the pony was perfectly preserved. She was significantly older than the last time Celestia had seen her, but there was no doubt in her mind that it was her. Applejack lay on her back, face up, her hooves across her chest, with a peaceful expression on her face. That face had accrued quite a few wrinkles, aged as she was, but even more laugh lines. Wrapped around the pony’s neck was a small amulet in the shape of an apple. Celestia smiled down at the pony before moving on.

The next tomb, the pink one, had a similar effect. The pony was much older than Celestia remembered, but it was definitely Pinkie Pie. If Celestia thought Applejack had had a lot of laugh lines, she was sorely mistaken. The wrinkles around the pink party pony’s eyes implied a life spent with more time smiling and laughing than doing anything else. In fact, the edges of her lips were curled into a bright smile, even in death. That certainly seemed like Pinkie. Around her neck hung a necklace in the shape of a party balloon.

After that was Rainbow Dash. Even in her age, the cyan pegasus was fit. Her muscles were lean and betrayed little of the sheer power no doubt contained within. This was the pony who had performed a sonic rainboom as only a little filly, after all. Celestia smiled with the memory. Rainbow Dash had a necklace shaped like a lightning bolt around her neck.

Fluttershy simply lay there, a look of calm serenity on her face. Celestia could not get too close, as numerous woodland creatures gathered around her tomb as well, honoring her memory just as Celestia was. Her connection to animals continued on, the memory of her kindness strong enough to last even to this day. Her necklace was shaped like a butterfly. Celestia moved to the next tomb.

This tomb was made of diamond, matching the necklace of the pony inside. Rarity looked the youngest of the Elements thus far, having aged like fine wine. She was as graceful and beautiful as ever, even in her eternal resting place. Celestia finally forced herself to approach the last tomb.

Twilight Sparkle was immaculate. She had not aged quite as well as Rarity, but her beauty shone forth even more for it. Her face had wrinkled, but it only added a look of wisdom and experience. She was the mare Celestia remembered, only so much more. Celestia regretted not being around to see her grow old. She had never considered that she would not be with Twilight Sparkle when she died, that she would not be with her every step of the way. Looking at Twilight Sparkle opened the floodgates on her tear ducts, and the salty sadness flowed, not only from a place of sadness and regret, but also of great pride. She was so proud of Twilight Sparkle, the pony that was brave enough to face the task the Celestia had shied away from, strong enough to try to guide the kingdom that Celestia had turned her back on, and kind enough to forgive Celestia for all that she had done. She did not deserve forgiveness, did not deserve the love and adoration of this mare, and most of all did not deserve her life. She was immortal, eternally a coward, while Twilight Sparkle, the pony who had fought tooth and nail to save her home, had perished.

Celestia broke down into sobs next to the tomb. The light was now fading from the meadow, casting everything in shadow. Celestia softly cried herself to sleep.

(*)

Celestia awoke with a start in the middle of the night. She was still lying next to the tomb. She looked around for what had awoken her and found that a soft, purple glow was coming from above the lavender tomb. Celestia stood to find a small orb of purple light floating directly above Twilight Sparkle’s horn. Celestia leaned forward to examine it closer, but leapt back when it rushed away from her and around the meadow, zigzagging this way and that, before coming to a stop in front of her. The light grew brighter and brighter until Celestia had to look away. Then, with a bright flash, the light retreated. Celestia opened her eyes and her brain immediately shut down, not comprehending what she was seeing.

Standing in front of her, almost close enough to touch, was Twilight Sparkle.

Celestia just stood there dumbly, staring at the unicorn with her mouth agape. Minutes passed. Twilight started to shuffle uncomfortably.

“Um, princess?” Twilight’s voice snapped the alicorn back to reality. Twilight soon found herself with a face full of mane as Celestia pulled the unicorn into a hug. Twilight hugged back, and they just stayed that way, teacher and student. Twilight felt her shoulder grow damp from her mentor’s tears.

“Is it really you?” Celestia said the words so softly that Twilight almost didn’t hear her. Twilight pulled away from the hug.

“Yes, I’m really here princess, but ‘here’ may not be where you think it is.”

Celestia looked confused, until a motion from Twilight prompted her to look around. They were no longer in the meadow, and it was no longer nighttime. Celestia couldn’t believe her eyes. They were standing in the Canterlot statue garden, in a small secluded glen where Celestia had first taught Twilight how to control her magic. Where the moon had been only moments before, the sun now hung in the sky. The secluded glen was exactly how it had been on the first day Celestia had shown it to Twilight.

“Bu—I mean, I, uh, what? Where? How?” Celestia stuttered out incoherent questions. Twilight had her eyebrows raised and she was biting her lower lip, waiting for Celestia to figure it out. She smiled meekly as realization dawned on Celestia’s face and she fell back on her haunches.

“I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” she asked dejectedly. Twilight simply nodded. All hope she had that Twilight Sparkle had returned to her was crushed under the weight of that little nod. Celestia backed away from Twilight, tears shining in her eyes. It was only a dream, a cruel joke played on her by her subconscious.

“This is a dream, princess, but I’m not. I’m real,” Twilight said. Celestia had made it this far, she just needed to go a little farther.

“How? How do I know you’re not lying to me? This is a dream. You’re not real, you can say anything you want. It won’t matter,” Celestia said, now on the verge of tears as she had been so many times since returning home. Twilight Sparkle sighed.

“I really didn’t want it to come to this,” she muttered as she walked up to Celestia and slapped her hard across the face. Celestia held her hoof on the affected area, pure shock on her face.

“Could a dream do that?” Twilight asked smugly.

Celestia didn’t respond. Not with words, at least. Instead, she tackled Twilight into an even bigger hug than before. They both laughed, Celestia’s previous tears of disappointment now transforming into tears of joy. Celestia relished the contact. It had been so long since she had felt the warmth of another pony’s body, she had forgotten how good it felt. She broke the hug and voiced a question that had been nagging at the back of her mind.

“Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be, you know... with the herd?” She didn’t want to say “dead,” but Twilight knew what the words meant. “All ponies eventually join the herd,” as the saying went.

“Well, actually, I found out that the dream world and the afterlife are very similar in nature. In fact, I hear that Princess Luna visited you not too long ago.” Celestia’s jaw dropped. It really had been Luna in her dream. “This is the same principle,” Twilight continued. “I just can’t come and go freely like she can. She is the princess of the night, after all. It’s really fascinating, actually, when you get down to examining the metaphysical composure of…what?” Celestia found herself staring at the unicorn, an amused smile playing on her face at Twilight’s ability to get carried away when talking about something that she found fascinating. It always made conversations interesting.

“Nothing, Twilight,” Celestia said. “It’s just really good to see you again.”

Twilight smiled at her mentor. “It’s good to see you too, princess,” she said.

“Please Twilight, just Celestia. I think you have far more than earned the right to call me by name.”

“Alright then,” the lavender mare said. “Celestia.” She rolled the name around in her mouth a little, trying to get a feel for it. She smiled at her mentor, but it was erased when she saw the serious look on Celestia’s face. “What is it prin-er, Celestia? What’s wrong?”

“Twilight, if that is really you, then I must ask you something very important.” The seriousness in her tone and face were sobering to the unicorn.

“Yes?” Twilight Sparkle was worried now.

“Why do you not hate me?” Celestia’s voice cracked. Her eyes began to water, threatening to unleash another deluge of tears.

“I forgave you a long time ago, Celestia. Everypony makes mistakes; some are just bigger than others.” Twilight tried to put her hoof on the other mare’s shoulder, but Celestia pulled away.

“How can you see it like that after I betrayed you? Just a little mistake? I betrayed all of my little ponies. I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“Please, Celestia,” Twilight started.

“No, Twilight Sparkle. I cannot accept your forgiveness, not after what I’ve done.”

“Oh, get over yourself,” Twilight said, rolling her eyes at her mentor.

“Excuse me?” Celestia said incredulously.

“You can’t wallow in self-pity forever, Celestia. I told you that I forgive you. I’ve talked to the others, and they forgive you, too. You made a mistake, and you’re sorry for it. The suffering you have endured is more penitence than was required, don’t you think?” When she said this, Twilight’s eyes darted to Celestia’s remaining wing and to the stub on her forehead before returning to the eyes of the mare herself.

“But—“ Celestia started, but Twilight cut her off.

“No buts,” she said. “I forgive you, that’s all that matters. Hating yourself won’t help. You are not responsible for what happened. You need to let go of your guilt and move on.”

Twilight’s words rang true, but Celestia still had trouble accepting them. How could it have not been her fault? She thought back to her experiences over the last couple of days. Luna had forgiven her. Spike had forgiven her. Now, Twilight had forgiven her. The only pony who hadn’t forgiven her was herself.

“I forgive you, Celestia,” she said under her breath. As soon as the words left her mouth, she felt an enormous weight lift off her chest. She truly believed the words she said. She knew she had not caused the calamity, but she had still turned her back on her kingdom. It wasn’t okay, and it could never be undone, but now there was nothing to do except forgive. She would forgive, but she would never forget.

“That’s better,” Twilight said with a smile.

“Thank you Twilight,” Celestia said, pulling her former student into another embrace.

“You’re welcome, Celestia,” Twilight responded.

“There’s still one thing I don’t understand, though,” Celestia said.

“Oh?”

“Earlier, you said that you couldn’t come and go from dreams as you please, like my sister can. How are you here, then?”

“Well, hehe, you see...” Twilight trailed off with a nervous laugh. Celestia simply raised an eyebrow at her. “I kinda maybe might’ve sealed my essence in the gemstone so I could wait for you while the others moved on.” She finished the sentence in one long breath.

“Twilight Sparkle!” Celestia exclaimed. Twilight winced, awaiting a scolding for how irresponsible she had been, but it never came. Instead, she found herself wrapped in Celestia’s hooves for the fourth time that day.

“Thank you for believing in me,” Celestia said.

They stayed like that for a long while, each just enjoying the feeling of the other, until Twilight finally broke the embrace.

“Come on,” she said. “It’s time to go. Everypony’s waiting.”

“Where?” Celestia asked, confused. She realized that they were no longer in the statue garden, but back in the meadow at the top of the mountain, the meadow from her dream.

“Wait, where are you going?” She called after Twilight Sparkle, who had already begun galloping off into the horizon.

“Where does anypony go?” She called the words without turning around. Celestia panicked as the scene from her dream about Luna flashed before her eyes.

“Wait!” She called out to Twilight frantically, rushing after the unicorn. “Don’t leave me! Please don’t leave me!” She knew in a few moments that Twilight would disappear, would leave her behind just as Luna had.

But she didn’t. Twilight slowed her pace, allowing Celestia to catch up with her. They ran together, radiant joy beaming from their faces, laughing and frolicking together like fillies, off into the horizon to join the herd.

(*)

The next morning, Spike poked his head over the forest and looked into the clearing. He could see Celestia lying next to Twilight’s resting place. She wasn’t breathing. Celestia, former empress of the kingdom of Equestria, a creature that was supposedly immortal, had passed on to the next life in her sleep. Spike smiled despite himself. He hoped that wherever she was, she had finally found happiness. He returned to his vigil, laying his own body down in his resting place. He was content. He closed his own eye for the last time, a smile resting on his face for all eternity.