Chapters The mare, her coat the color of dusk, blended into the shadows of the hall in the deep twilight. She stood before a stained glass window, the colors dull and lifeless in the gloom. Captured by its lead-rimmed panes were six fillies bearing the Elements of Harmony. Wreathed in halos, they wielded the magic of friendship against Nightmare Moon. The mare bent her head, her horn almost touching the window. Her wings rustled slightly in the still air. A single tear rolled down her cheek before falling to the marble floor.
She remembered.
The door is open after all this time. We have missed you.
She remembered that fateful day, one thousand years ago.
Princess, you were right.
She remembered the betrayal.
Who are you?
I am memory.
She remembered tears shed then.
Tell me it's not true!
Tears she shed every year on this, the anniversary of her ascension.
No! It's not her time! Take me instead! Take me...
Reduced now to just a single tear, for all that was lost, for all that was gained.
They are yours now. All... of them. Remember... the... dawn...
She remembered the prophecy which would not be denied, in the end.
On the longest day Of the thousandth year, When the stars will aid, With their twinkling tears,
And break the moon To release the mare. Then the time is soon; The pony will dare
To find all out, Old wrongs to right, And bring about Eternal night.
But what hurt more were the memories that were not her own. Memory was a treacherous mare.
Most of your little friends are dead. You'll never wield your precious elements against me now.
They're here with me, monster, in spirit!
Oh ho ho, maybe you do have what it takes after all.
There was a sound of creaking hinges as one of the two great double doors slowly opened. She looked up, blinking to clear her eyes. Her heartbeat quickened in her chest. It had been a long time since anypony beside her had opened those doors.
The door stopped moving without opening halfway. A young unicorn poked her head around the edge of the door, her coat of tawny gold washed almost white in the weak light.
"Is this it? Are you here to kill me?"
The filly stopped halfway through the doors, quivering. Her eyes wandered the darkness, searching for the source of the voice. The mare closed her eyes and exhaled, willing the magic of her horn to illuminate the hall. A purple light sprang forth and the shadows became individual things, scattering away from her in long lines of darkness. The filly's eyes opened wide in shock.
"N-no Princess!"
The mare's head sagged a bit, eyes still closed.
"You might as well come in. It's rude to stand in doorways."
The filly finished pushing herself through the door, her movements full of awkward, embarrassed energy and nervous excitement. The pony's mane was the color of red gold, long and haphazardly splayed down her neck. On her flank, her cutie mark stood out, the sun rising from behind twin peaks. Free of the door, the filly rushed through a sketch of a bow, before standing in mute awe.
She's so young, the mare thought. Was I like that once upon a time? I think I must have been. "Certainly you didn't come all this way just to stare at me."
"No princess!"
"Well, you seem to know who I am. Who are you, my little pony?"
"D-Dayspring."
"Of course you are," the mare muttered, mostly to herself. "A poetic term for dawn."
"So, I was, uh... reading the histories. Old ones, about you." Dayspring's hoof pawed at the marble floor idly. "There's so little detail left... about what happened. And then the whole palace just... um... disappeared." She looked away, trying to find something interesting in the dust.
The mare let the moment stretch before speaking.
"You seem to have found it."
"I just thought that it was sad, given how much the histories said you liked to read; how there was so little to read about you. And that it was sad that you had lost your friends. And I knew you still had to exist, because the sun and the moon still came up. And that you had to be lonely." Dayspring turned back to the mare, her eyes wet. "I thought you might need a friend."
The mare turned her head, shutting her eyes tight against the tears. The memory came, unbidden.
What Ah'm saying ta you is the honest truth.
Maybe she speaks the truth, Applejack, the mare thought to herself, but friendship mostly brought me a thousand years of regret, and you, an untimely death.
"Princess?" Dayspring asked timidly.
"The impulse to friendship is powerful magic indeed. Powerful enough to open the gate," the mare said slowly, before returning her gaze to the filly. "Tell me, what do they say about my friends now?"
"They say... They say you loved them so much that you called down starlight for them, and sent them into the heavens where they would prance among the stars for a thousand thousand years."
A second tear escaped down her cheek and fell into space. "You named constellations after them..."
"But you stayed here for us, so we'd have day and night. And the stars are so far away..."
There was a reverent silence, the pony's attention fixed on the old mare. The mare turned her head to look at the stained-glass, her friends picked out lovingly in life-like colors.
"So you want to know the sordid truth, Dayspring?"
"We know so little. Somepony should speak for you, princess."
"If you're going to be my friend, you should call me by my name." The mare turned back to the filly.
"I'd like that, Twilight Sparkle."
"Just Twilight. It's been a long time since I've had any sparkle."
"So what did happen, Twilight?" Dayspring recovered her curiosity, and bounded over to one of the stained-glass windows. Her gaze wandered over the figure of Discord, his limbs working a set of puppet strings attached to ponies below.
"I suppose, to properly tell the tale, we need to go all the way back to the beginning."
"How far back is that?"
"A long, long time. Many thousand years. I'm not really sure how many. Back to the founding of Equestria itself."
The filly sat back on her haunches, her rear limbs splayed and her forehooves propping her up. "You mean the story we tell on Hearth's Warming Eve?"
Twilight smiled. "Shortly after it, actually. You ever notice there are no alicorns in the Hearth's Warming Eve story?"
Dayspring's eyes looked up as she sat in recollection. After a time she spoke. "I suppose you're right. There aren't any in the story."
"There weren't any back then; just unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies."
"Where did alicorns come from?"
"Patience, little pony. I'll get there."
The young filly nodded her head in acquiesence, her eyes eager.
"In the beginning, the unicorns raised the sun and the moon. They did this collectively, because no one pony had the power to bring the day or the night on their own. Over time their powers got weaker. Unicorn magic began to become specialized, with fewer and fewer who could work general magic and contribute to the raising of the sun. Fortunately they were gifted with a unicorn of unsurpassed wisdom, Star Swirl the Bearded. He may not have been the most magically powerful unicorn to ever live, but he is certainly among the best loved, for those of us who remember."
"Who was the most powerful?"
Twilight frowned. "His greatest student, who was born into a time when it was feared that the magic would die out and the sun would never rise again. Star Swirl was ancient by that time, old even by the reckoning of old unicorns. When he found his last student, whose birth name is lost to memory, he was surprised by the strength of the colt's magic. Despite his age, Star Swirl took on the young pony's training personally. Ponies marveled at the colt's power, and wondered at his blank flank, for despite his obvious magical destiny, no cutie mark appeared to grace his form.
"Then one day, on the winter solstice, when fears were at their highest that the sun had gone forever, Star Swirl's pupil raised the sun by himself. That Hearth's Warming Eve, Star Swirl the Bearded called the leaders of the pegasi and the earth ponies together in conference with him and his pupil. He revealed to them the loss of magic amongst the unicorns, which had until then been a secret, and that his student was the salvation they'd been waiting for. The promise that the sun would always rise.
"But even more momentous was what his pupil said to them. That his was a power that belonged to all ponies, not just the unicorns. That while harmony existed for the present, their houses were divided. They were all swayed by his words, and it was at that moment that he finally received his cutie mark, two hooves pressed together in agreement. Thus, he became known as Accord."
"I've never heard of him."
"You wouldn't, this history has been stricken from the record."
"What did he do next?"
"While he was just a unicorn, he belonged to only them. Harmony could not be maintained that way. So he and Star Swirl worked powerful magic, captured the essence of the three houses: the earth-sense of the earth ponies, the flight of the pegasi, and the magic of the unicorns, and they bound these natures into the rituals which raised the sun and the moon. The next day, after he brought forth the sun, he was changed. Accord was the first alicorn, and the first prince over all Equestria."
"Sounds like a hero."
"He was––at the time."
"What happened to him?"
"He was corrupted by greed and didn't want to give up power. Star Swirl, in his wisdom, had woven another aspect into the spell. Once every thousand years would be born an unicorn with the power to raise the sun and take on the mantle of leadership. But Star Swirl didn't tell anypony beside his pupil, which was his greatest failing.
"Accord ruled a land of harmony for several thousand years. Those powerfully magical unicorns who were born quietly disappeared, never to be heard of. The corruption in Accord's heart stayed hidden."
"That's awful Twilight!"
"Not as awful as what happened a little more than two thousand years ago. Something in Accord must have snapped, because he became the spirit of disharmony known as Discord."
The filly's eyes widened in fear.
"I see you've heard of him."
Dayspring nodded her head vigorously. "You defeated him with the Elements of Harmony!"
"We did, my friends and I."
"How do you know all this ancient history, Twilight?"
"Trust the story, young filly, not the story-teller. Hey now, don't give me that look."
"But that's not an answer!"
"I suppose it's not." Twilight smiled.
Dayspring yawned.
"Almost time for moonrise, isn't it?" Twilight asked.
"Didn't notice. The light doesn't change here."
"Come, would you like to see me bring forth the moon before you go home?"
Dayspring nodded her head vigorously. Twilight turned before looking over her flank at the filly expectantly. Dayspring's hooves scrabbled on the marble floor to regain her footing, almost slipping in her haste to follow.
"Careful now, the tower stairs are steep."
Dayspring followed up the winding stairs, white stone tinted violet by the light. The shadows shifted unevenly as Twilight's horn continuously moved around the circular, stone column about which the stairway wound. At the top the light moved out of her field of view, and Dayspring swore she could see stars where the stairs let out. She hurried out onto the landing and found herself outside.
The top of the tower had once been a room. Jagged remains of a wall around the perimeter stood in mute testament to the violence that had torn the chamber open to the sky. On the horizon the faint blush of light from the sun just below the horizon stretched out across the tops of trees and the crests of hills. Above, stars twinkled in the evening sky.
"What happened here?"
"I did."
The filly followed Twilight to what had been a balcony a little hesitantly, looking nervously at the damage. Then she was on the balcony, staring out over the untouched forest in darkness below them. Suddenly, she felt like she was seeing double. One set of images was like she had seen before, pristine wilderness in near darkness, only barely touched by the light of the sun. But the other was Canterlot, the sun low, but visible in the distance. Her horn throbbed. Dayspring shook her head to clear the weirdness from her vision. When her sight cleared, Twilight was looking at her strangely. Dayspring smiled uncertainly.
"How did you get your cutie mark, anyway?"
"Oh, well... I've always been up early... to greet the sun. I thought it sang to me, but that was probably just me being a silly, little foal. And one morning I was out there, watching the sun come up, and my parents came out and saw my horn glowing. And there it was, my cutie mark!" Dayspring looked sheepish. "I'm not actually sure what that's supposed to mean for my special talent."
"You'll figure something out, I'm sure."
"You wouldn't know..."
"You might want to stand back. The sun has just gone down in Equestria." The world around them had not changed, still near darkness just barely kissed by the light of the sun.
"Oh. Yes, Twilight."
The mare's wings unfolded as Twilight pushed herself back on her hind hooves, the first beat of the wings catching her as she reared, and the gentle beating held her there at full height. Slowly, majestically, the wings lifted her off the ground, her head high, her horn glowing with pale light.
Dayspring couldn't see the moon, not in the unchanging landscape around the palace, but she could feel it in that other world, the world of Canterlot where the palace wasn't, as it crested the horizon and began its journey across the night sky. Then the moment and the magic was over, and Twilight was on the ground, looking at her. Staring into her.
"You felt that, didn't you?"
"I guess so... What...?"
"Little ponies should head home before their parents worry too much, Dayspring. I'll still be here tomorrow. The gate will open for you."
Dayspring sketched a quick bow before carefully heading down the stairs, leaving Twilight standing alone beneath the night sky in the midst of the tower ruins.
"Awwww. They're sooo cuuute!"
Twilight rolled her eyes. "I'm doing this because you asked. Instead of gawking all googly-eyed, you might notice something unusual?"
Dayspring had returned shortly after noon, grumbling about her parents keeping her late with chores. So when Twilight had suggested, rather than simply telling Dayspring about the past, that she could show her instead, the young unicorn had become eager and curious. After getting the filly to lay down, albeit temporarily, Twilight had used her magic to call forth scenes stolen from the forgotten past.
Shimmering in the air before Twilight was a glowing surface, almost like looking into a lighted window, but it rippled like water in a pond. What had Dayspring all mushy-mouthed and distracted was the vision she could see through it – two young unicorn foals, only months old, laying asleep next to each other in a loose pile of straw. They were a study in contrast. The nearer one had an unblemished coat of snowy white, her mane such an exact match as to virtually disappear against her neck. The other was coal black, her mane a soft grey.
The problem with pictures was they were worth a thousand words, and at least half of them distracted from what was important.
"But they are cute!"
"Really," Twilight snarked.
"Not over how cute they are yet!" Dayspring squeed, bouncing on her hooves.
At that moment the white foal neighed softly in her sleep and rolled a bit, freeing her near flank from the straw. A golden yellow sun graced her hindquarters.
"She has a cutie mark!" Dayspring's eyes nearly popped out of her sockets. Her attention zeroed in on the black foal. A silvery tip peaked out of the straw on her flank. "They both have cutie marks!"
"Watch."
"Aren't they young for that?"
"Just watch."
The foals got farther away, the perspective pulling back slowly to reveal the surroundings. Low conversation began to be heard, as yet a faint, unintelligible whisper. Behind the foals, an off-white unicorn mare came into view, her legs folded under her, head high. But her eyes were fixed beyond the view afforded by the shimmering window, and her expression was uncertain and fearful. The voices grew clearer.
"You spoke to the prince?"
"I did. But there was something fey about him, and it seemed to me his interest in your daughters was unhealthy. I thought it wiser not to tell him where you were."
"And what did he say? Does he understand?"
"He wouldn't say, although I thought I saw understanding in his eyes."
"You think Prince Accord is hiding something?" spoke a third voice, feminine where the first two had been masculine.
The image panned over to a group of three ponies, two unicorn stallions and a ruddy earth pony mare.
"Is that why you told Correspondence that we should meet you here and not at home?" said the unicorn with several stars on his sable flank.
"It is," said the unicorn stallion with a star inscribed in a clover, "I had the strangest sense of unease during my visit to the palace, and I fear I may have been followed as I left. I think I shook anypony in pursuit when I crossed the river, but you should be careful." His coat was the color of mist.
"Look," the earth pony said, her ears flicking skittishly, "maybe it's dangerous for you to go home and maybe it ain't, and the roads are frightfully dangerous these days, but you can't stay here. I don't want any trouble. I'm sorry."
Suddenly, all ears twitched in unison, and a nervous quiet descended on the gathering. The sound of metal striking metal, muffled by the interposing wall, carried softly through the barn. The stallions looked at each other. On the straw, the mare stood abruptly, provoking wordless noises from the sleeping foals. She nuzzled the infants back to restfulness automatically, but her eyes were fixed on the barn door, betraying her conscious worries.
"I knew I was followed. I'm sorry, Constellation, I thought we had time."
"A terrible time for your good fortune to fail you, Lucky Star."
Lucky Star looked down at his hooves, ashamed.
"I'm sorry, I really am, but I shan't be seen acting against the prince or the kingdom." The earth pony turned to go.
"Raspberry! Don't...!"
"It's no use, let her go." Constellation rested one hoof on Lucky Star's shoulder. The distraught unicorn raised his head and their eyes met. "Brother, get my wife and my children out of here safely. Maybe your luck will run true yet."
"But you...?"
"They will know we were here, regardless, and I might delay pursuit long enough to see you safely off. Go." Constellation's horn was already aglow, placing the specially designed saddle bags across Correspondence's back and carefully slipping the foals into the pouches on either side.
As they slipped out the back, Raspberry's voice carried inside. "Your highness, oh my! Thank goodness you're here! You simply must eject this mule from my barn, or I don't know what I shall do!"
Constellation watched as Lucky Star led Correspondence to the rear door. Correspondence turned her head to him, her eyes holding his for long seconds as Raspberry's continuing tirade bought them precious time. Then she turned from him and went wordlessly into the night, their two children sleeping against her flanks. Lucky Star hesitated just a moment, giving him a measuring look, before following her out.
He turned back to the main door just as two soldiers of the royal guard entered, their pomp and polish incongruous in the rustic setting. They promptly stepped to either side and stood at attention. Following them in strode Accord, brilliant as the sun, clad in silvery armor. Raspberry stood in the doorway nervously.
"That's him, your highness. That's the mule I was telling you about. I want him out of my barn this very instant!"
Accord ignored her entirely. "Where are the foals?"
"Highness." Constellation bowed low. "You must have me confused with somepony else."
"I know they were here!" He glanced wildly about the barn, a snarl on his features. Inevitably, his eyes were drawn to the depressions in the straw. Accord turned back to the dark unicorn. "You will produce these... children... at once! Or I shall find... creative... ways of punishing your disloyalty."
"Now, let's... ah... let's not be hasty..." Raspberry said weakly from the door, ignored by everyone.
"You're insane," said Constellation flatly. His eyes went wide in the palpable silence that followed, as if unable to believe he had said so aloud.
"Little foals should not meddle in affairs beyond their ken."
Constellation forced the panic back. Holding his horn before him, eyes squeezed shut in concentration, he called the magic of his birthright. The air within the barn quavered and darkened. The walls fell away and twinkling lights appeared scattered about apparently open space. Even the ground seemed to vanish, robbing the senses of the comforting presence of the earth. The guards reared in confusion, but Accord simply laughed.
"A pretty little ability. A great party trick, I'm sure. But now, now you will experience real power."
"Not in my barn! Not in my barn!"
Accord's horn flared with golden light, adding a new greater star to the cosmic panorama. The weave and weft of forces barely controlled thrummed through the air, audibly shaking the barn itself where it existed unseen beyond the stellar display. Constellation backed up slowly, fear in his eyes. The mask of stars and galaxies fell away.
"Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!" Raspberry squeaked in terror before turning on her hind hooves and racing away.
The shimmering surface before Dayspring went pure incandescent white, washing out all detail and leaving her dazzled. When her sight returned, several minutes later, nothing remained of the barn but shattered beams and splintered boards. Accord stood, furious in the center of the wreckage, surrounded by a circular area scoured clear for ten feet in any direction. Great furrows were torn in the earth radiating outward from the epicenter. Of Constellation, there was no sign.
"Woh," Dayspring said softly.
Anarchy Loosed Upon the World
"Who are the foals, Twilight?"
"You don't recognize them?"
"Uh-uh." Dayspring shook her head from side to side. "And why do they have cutie marks so young?"
"Maybe it was the universe's way of not being subtle any longer."
"Um... what?"
Twilight didn't answer at once, her eyes flicking to a stained-glass window near the entrance to the hall. About her the colored panes glittered in the light of her magic. The perpetual night outside turned the windows into opaque mirrors, refracting splashes of color away down the hall. The magic surface in front of her turned fuzzy, the image misting over.
"Tell you what, why don't I show you what happens next. And then I think it'll be time for little ponies to go home for dinner so their parents don't worry."
"But...but... I want to watch you raise the moon again!"
"Maybe if you aren't out so late, you can come visit me in the morning to watch the sun rise."
"Can I? Can I?"
"Only if your parents let you."
"Awww."
"Hey." Twilight nudged Dayspring with her nose, causing the young filly to unintentionally fall back into a sitting position. "You want to watch what happens next or not?"
"Oh. Yes." Dayspring smiled sheepishly.
Both of them turned back to the misted screen, which slowly resolved itself into a mountain valley, columbine and fairyslipper splashing lavender and pink across the muted green of the meadow. Two fillies, one black, one white, frolicked amongst the flowers and chased each other across the grass. Behind them a tall mountain rose up over the meadow, its presented face a patchwork of increasingly dwindling biomes and naked rock as the eye climbed upwards before finally becoming the uniform white of pristine snow, dazzling in the midday sun.
The fillies scattered in that moment, and seconds later a dark shape ploughed into the earth near where they'd been, sending flowers flying and kicking up a geyser of dirt as it came to rest.
"Thunder!" The white filly exclaimed, "watch where you're going!"
The deep blue pegasus colt picked himself up before shaking himself off, sending dirt spraying everywhere.
"Blech." The black filly stuck her tongue out. "Why do boys have to get dirt everywhere?"
"I... uh... need to work on my landings still."
"Isn't that the truth." The white filly regarded him critically. "Maybe next time try slowing down first?"
"You girls are no fun."
"Oh, we're plenty of fun, right sis? I think we should enjoy ourselves by braiding his mane."
"Uh, Luna, that's really okay..." Thunder flapped his wings, preparing to take off. "Ooph"
Luna's horn lit up briefly, the magical impulse catching Thunder and knocking him onto his side in the grass. "No fair going anywhere before we're done." She moved to stand over him, a wicked grin on her face.
"I just came to tell you that I saw Lucky Star!" he blurted out. Luna stopped her advance. "He's on his way up the mountain right now."
"Uncle?"
The fillies looked at each other, then took off, disappearing from the screen briefly as it panned to follow them. A ridge running down from the mountain descended to a low point at the head of the valley, before rising again towards the next peak. The fillies galloped full out toward where the meadow crested there. Appearing over the rise, horn first, was a grey unicorn stallion. The girls stopped just short of slamming into him, skidding to a halt, before leaning in to nuzzle him.
"Oh, I know who they are!" Dayspring exclaimed suddenly. "But where are their wings... oh..."
"Starting to put some things together?"
"I just never thought of them as being so young... or small..."
"Even the most legendary pony was once a foal. But you're missing what's happening."
"Oh yeah." Dayspring's attention returned to the image hovering in the air before her.
A white unicorn mare, a scroll on her flank, had joined the fillies and stallion as they walked down into the valley.
"Girls, why don't you go play? I think your friend is leaving, and there are things your mother and I need to talk about."
"Yes uncle," they said in unison before trotting off. Lucky Star's head swung to follow their going before turning back to Correspondence.
"The pegasi were right to be worried," he said. "The city of Roan is gone. Gone! Getting close enough to confirm that was trying. The weather has gone strange. Just about anything but water pours from the sky, frequently without a single cloud, and where there are clouds sunlight shines down. At least I think it was sunlight. And the clouds themselves are queer – it's no wonder the pegasi wouldn't go near it. Then where Roan should be... I can't even describe it... trees growing at odd angles, water flowing uphill, stairs leading up to nothing and unattached to any building, and that's the most sensible of the things I saw. I saw strange creatures on my way there, and I shudder to think that some of them may have once been ponies."
"And the palace?"
"I couldn't bring myself to brave that insanity to see if it had survived."
"Surely Roan didn't fall in a day!"
"I fear this has been a long time in coming, and that Accord is at the heart of this."
"And what of my foals? Are we safe here?"
"Something dark roams Equestria at night. I know not what it is nor what it seeks, but here I hope the foals are well hidden."
"What are we going to do, uncle?" The stallion and the mare turned to look at Celestia, who had snuck back to where they were talking. Luna could be heard in the distance, mocking Thunder, who had retreated to the safety of the air.
"Celestia, you shouldn't eavesdrop!" Correspondence scolded.
"But its awful! Somepony ought to do something." It came out near a whine, earning a stern stare from both of the adults.
The light suddenly and rapidly shifted, shadows stretching long in an instant. Then it was dark, the moon rising with haste from the horizon. Lucky Star and Correspondence looked at each other in fear. Luna galloped over to where they were.
"Momma, what's happening?"
Correspondence reached over and nuzzled Luna's flank, pulling her close
"I don't know, sweetie. I don't know."
"I think I need to make another trip," Lucky Star said solemnly, his eyes fixed on the moon speeding across the uncanny night. When he started herding the women to the small house they'd built for shelter, sunlight was already splashing across the meadow.
The image misted over again, before quickly resolving itself into an image of Luna and Celestia crouched behind a rock. The deep shadows of twilight made Luna almost invisible, while Celestia hung towards the back.
"Is he coming?" Celestia whispered.
"Shhh... how am I supposed to hear them if you keep talking?"
The sound of Lucky Star and Correspondence talking could be faintly heard in the silence.
"You should have stayed long enough to say goodbye. Luna and Tia will be disappointed that you left while they slept."
"I'm not sure I can afford to wait. This is going to throw all of Equestria into chaos."
"Take care of yourself."
"I'll be back before you know it."
There was a long moment, and then the sounds of hooves on the hardscrabble path out of the valley. They watched him pass, surefooted and swift, as he descended down the steep slope.
"You think he'll be mad that we followed him?"
"Hey, this was your idea sis," Luna shot back. "And the trick is we don't get caught."
They waited while Lucky Star got smaller in the distance. At last they emerged from hiding and started carefully working their way down towards the distant treeline as light began to peak over the ridge behind them.
The image went dark, and then the surface puffed out like a bubble before disappearing with a popping sound.
"But what happens next, Twilight?"
"That's a story for another day. Go on, its time for you to head home before your parents worry about you."
"Awww."
Twilight pointed her horn towards the double doors, and they swung open.
"Tomorrow, Dayspring. I'm not going anywhere."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
"Goodnight Twilight."
"Goodnight."
Twilight watched Dayspring leave before getting to her feet. Moonrise was still hours distant, and she was pensive. Finally, she left the hall through the same doors, but didn't head in the direction of the front gates. She paused at intersections, memory fuzzy, before choosing a passage and striding down it with purpose. Finally she came to the room she wanted, a cozy study with a fireplace.
She remembered. Celestia had been like a mother to her, and here they had curled up, once upon a cold evening, with a warm fire blazing in the hearth. Now only cold ashes remained; they stirred in the wake of her entrance.
She trotted over to a writing desk, her horn working the drawers and finding for her paper, a quill, and a jar of ink. She attempted to wet the quill tip, but the ink had long since gone hard, all water evaporated away. She worked moisture into it with her magic, pulling what little there was in the stale air for her use. It took time, but she was patient after long centuries alone, and when it was finished her quill glistened with velvet darkness. She began to write.
To the parents of Dayspring,
She stopped, staring at the page. Her once neat handwriting was now a disaster of awkward lines, irregular corners, and uneven slant. Most of a thousand years without writing had taken its toll.
"Ick." She sighed.
Wet ink from her idle quill dripped onto the desk top, unnoticed. She balled the paper with her magic and pulled a fresh sheet out. There was still plenty of time before moonrise.
Shortly before moonrise, she looked down at the completed letter in satisfaction. Dozens of failed attempts littered the floor about her. She signed the letter, with some deliberation, as Princess Twilight . It looked strange to her eyes, but it would be what was expected of her, even if she didn't feel much like a princess.
She levitated the crumbled failures into the hearth, using the brief fire she started there to melt the sealing wax and make the missive official with the seal she found on the desk. Celestia's seal, but it would have to do, since she had never bothered to make her own. Satisfied, she left the room and headed back to the Hall of History with the stained-glass and the tower beyond where she'd call the moon, letter in tow.
Twilight stopped briefly in the hall, before the stained-glass image of Celestia in combat with Discord, the Elements of Harmony at her command.
"I suppose it must have been easier when you felt you deserved this."
She stood there a few moments more in silence. Then she turned and headed to the tower. The moon waited for nopony but her, and even she wasn't going to make it wait.
Dayspring bounded through the streets of Canterlot in the darkness before dawn. Few ponies were about so early, especially since Canterlot itself had little industry. Politics was its business; business that properly belonged to the evening and not the morning. This was a shame to Dayspring's thinking, because it meant so many of Canterlot's ponies missed the beautiful dawn.
This morning was different than usual. It wasn't just that she'd been invited to watch Twilight call the sun, which was exciting enough on its own. It certainly wasn't that being up before the dawn was unusual for her. That happened every day. She felt compelled to awake before daybreak. While other ponies might call it magic, the world just was that way for her. She had to greet the sun, just as simply as grass was green and the sky was blue.
And yet, magic was the difference today. Her horn had started glowing as she woke up. Was still glowing. Warm yellow light forced back the darkness in front of her as she careened towards the walled field where the palace had once stood. Still stood elsewhere . Using magic was not usual for her. Sure, she'd gained a cutie mark with a display of magical sympathy with the sun, but she couldn't actually do much with her horn, certainly not on demand, and that had been a special occasion worthy of a cutie mark no less. Not that the bright light illuminating her way was under her control, it just was. But then, today was a magical day. She was going to see Twilight call the sun.
She slowed to a trot as she approached the gate in the wall surrounding the palace grounds. History said Prince Shining Armor had constructed the wall as a show of respect for his sister and Celestia, so that ponies would forever set aside the land on which the palace had stood and remember. A large plaque was affixed to the wall beside the gate in memoriam. A guard still stood at the gate. Ponies remembered. Couldn't help but remember. Did not the sun rise every day and the moon rise every night?
The light emitted from her horn increased in intensity several candles as she got close to the gate, causing her to slow and finally stop in wonder before the earth pony guard. Her reverie did not last, however; the sight of the guard bowing low enough to scrape his barrel against the ground caused her to look around with some anxiety. When she saw nopony else, her anxiety and confusion intensified.
“Uh... Proud Hoof... it's only me.” The glow lessened some.
“What... oh... um... sorry young Dayspring. I must have been seeing things.” He shook his head and raised himself back up to his full height.
Dayspring scrunched her muzzle up and thought for a moment, sitting back on her haunches before the guard. She couldn't imagine what the guard thought he'd been seeing. Turning her face up to Proud Hoof in a look of profound skepticism, she asked, “Seeing what? ”
“Really, it was nothing,” he said. Dayspring didn't believe that for a second. She sat there looking up at him. Finally, sheepishly, he spoke. “Promise you won't tell the other guards?”
“Promise!”
“I thought I saw a tall alicorn, glowing with light like the sun, striding regally up to the gate. Celestia herself come again.” He looked wistfully into space and stood straighter, some cultural memory of the glory of Celestia's reign and the pride of service as guards for the princess taking hold. He blinked himself free of his thoughts. “You haven't been messing with me with your unicorn magic, have you?”
“Don't be ridiculous, I'm only in regular school. I don't have any real talent with magic.”
“Your horn is still shining awful bright, young'un.”
Dayspring shrugged her shoulders. “It has a mind of its own sometimes.”
“And where are you off to today?”
“I'm going to watch the Princess raise the sun! Oh, I don't want to be late! See you!” She darted through the gate.
Proud Hoof wasn't about to question the little pony's statement. He'd seen her do this before. And if she claimed the princess was really still there, who was he to argue? Still, he couldn't help watching as the filly passed under the stone archway. Her body just... vanished... as she crossed the line of the wall. Maybe it wasn't Dayspring's doing, but magic was definitely at work here. He peered over his shoulder into the palace grounds. Yep, still an empty field, however expertly groomed by the groundsponies. He shuddered. Somepony else could figure this out. It was well above his pay grade.
Twilight stood under the night sky, eyes gazing out over the eternally slumbering forest. It was peaceful up here. Cathartic. The world below was without season and unchanging. And yet change had come. Was coming. She had felt Dayspring slip between the worlds this time.
Eventually a dim light disturbed the darkness of the night as the young filly clambered up the last steps of the tower. One of Dayspring's hooves caught the last stair and she spilled onto the floor in a pile of awkward limbs.
“Oops.”
“Didn't I warn you those stairs were slippery?”
“I didn't want to miss it.”
Twilight rolled her eyes while the filly righted herself.
“The sun comes up once a day, Dayspring. There will be plenty of opportunities.”
Dayspring walked over and seated herself near Twilight. She smiled foalishly at the mare.
“You're glowing.” Twilight motioned at the filly's horn.
“That? It just... does that... sometimes.”
Twilight wanted to ask more, but it was time. Summoning all her carefully cultivated serenity from before, she faced East. She unfolded her wings, stretching them out, testing the cool air. Twilight reached out with her magic, felt the sun below the horizon, and caressed it with her power. The connection warmed her. Her eyes closed as she pushed herself upwards. Her wings beat. Her body reared and she threw her head back. Anchored to her horn, the rise of her body pulled the sun up over the edge of the world. That other world where dawn yet came.
Finished, she released the sun. But something was strange. Different. Warmth blanketed her. Bright light beat against her eyelids instead of comfortable shadow. What magic was this?
Twilight went down to her hooves more quickly than intended. Her eyes fluttered open. She squinted against the harsh light, but the horizon was still the rosy red of the predawn. No, the light came from beside her. She turned to look at Dayspring, and couldn't. A millennium of darkness forced her eyes closed against the brilliance. She covered her eyes with her hooves.
“Dayspring! Stop!”
“What? Oh.” A long pause. “Is that... me?”
The heat finally went away and the light diminished. Twilight blinked spots from her eyes, thankful she could still see.
“Did I do something wrong, Twilight?”
“Not wrong. But my pupils are dilated most of the time from the low ambient lighting.”
“Um... okay.”
Twilight smirked. “That means I have a hard time adjusting to bright lights.”
“Oh. Well, I'm sorry. I really don't have much control over it.”
“You... wait... aren't you getting trained in the use of magic at school?”
“Uh-uh. I failed the entrance exam for magic kindergarten. I'm in normal school.”
The mare's jaw dropped. That had been one of the most powerful displays of magic she'd ever witnessed. Not just the light but the warmth of the sun on a summer day projected through the little unicorn's horn.
“Twilight?”
Twilight's mouth still hung open. She had no words.
“I did do something wrong, didn't I?”
“Absolutely not.” The filly's words brought Twilight back to her senses.
Dayspring looked at her strangely, but Twilight was thinking about her own entrance exam, an exam she would have failed if not for the intervention of a sonic rainboom at just the right moment. It wasn't just the shock of the sound wave breaking over her that had thrown open those doors within her. The sonic rainboom was powerful magic in its own right. Magic had unlocked magic in her. She returned her attention to the little unicorn again.
“Well, this is a situation we will have to rectify post haste.”
“Which situation?”
“Your schooling.” Twilight started towards the stairs. “I was going to offer anyway, of course, but I hadn't realized just how critical the situation was.”
“Offer what, Twilight?”
“To train you. Now, I know I had a letter for your parents here somewh...” Twilight's voice faded as she disappeared down the stairs, leaving the bewildered filly frozen at the top, eyes wide, as comprehension sank in.
“Train... me?” A wide smile broke out across Dayspring's face. “Yaaaaaaaay!”
She bounced all the way down the tower steps, heedless of the danger.
A small cabin resolved on the shimmering surface, smoke climbing lazily from a chimney. Lucky Star approached cautiously, emerging from the dense woodland ringing the clearing in which it stood. In the time it took for him to cross the small open space, the moon had set and the sun rose. With temerity he gently rapped on the door with his hoof.
The perspective shifted closer, coming about to rest over his shoulder as the door before him swung open. A narrow cervine head peered out, smooth fur going white with age, and the curvature of the crown of its head broken by naught but large rounded ears. Milky eyes reflected the now noon-height sun.
“Oh, deer?”
The creature made a low rasping noise which might have been laughter. “Fear not, though there is no hart behind my words. Yea, though you come for answers, I am not staggerd. But enough with clever wordplay, though I, doe, enjoy it.” More rasping sounds as she stepped back, holding the door for the stallion. “Help you I may, though you might think otherwise before the end. But let us not stand in doorways, there is tea steeped in my kettle, and it is a fine thing to drink tea with company.”
“I apologize for my surprise and rudeness before. I hadn't expected...”
“Followed some crazy rumors about a mad seer in these parts, did you? Not so mad, no, not so mad as they might think. But I have little enough use for ponies, it is true. And yet here you are. And here I am. And there is tea.” The ancient doe busied herself before the fireplace where a kettle was set.
“Ah, yes, I... I was hoping you might...”
“Time enough for that later, yes? I know why you are here, after all. What good would I be as a seer if I didn't. Drat and bother, where did I put my cups...”
“Ah–”
“Be a deer, heh heh, that always cracks me up, and check and see if I left my cups over by the window?”
Lucky Star levitated two battered tea cups with a touch of magic, floating them over to where the doe sat. The old deer used a small but sturdy forked branch, held in her mouth, to grasp the kettle's iron handle and lift it from where it hung above the fire, carefully poured with a practiced motion, then returned it to its perch. She seated herself before the fire before grasping one of the cups out of the air with her hooves.
“Keeps the bones warm, it does.” She sipped her tea. “You have a touch of magic to you. Not like your nieces, but a touch.”
“What do you know of my nieces?” He sounded almost frantic.
“You ponies worry too much. But if that's what you want to know, I can tell you.”
Indecision was etched in Lucky Star's features. His mouth caught half-open in a grimace. His eyes twitched. His teacup shook in his hooves. He put the cup down and steadied himself.
“No. That's not what I need to ask, no matter how much I want to.”
“It is all the same in the end, dearie.”
“The times of night and day are undone and strange doings spread throughout the land. You think it's all the same?” Darkness filled the cabin as the sun set at that moment, in punctuation to his question. Milky eyes shone across from him in the weak light from the cooking fire. Light peeked around one side of the doe, glowing in a thin filmy haze of illuminated fur. Otherwise the seer was lost in the deepening shadows.
“You worry about great doings, but your importance may be little, in the end. Knowledge might aid you or might be for nothing. And who is to say that which you seek will not be found regardless of what you do. More wills than yours are set upon their course in time.”
“But if this moment matters, then I cannot fail.”
“So much hope, to believe you and you alone can shape fate in your hands. So be it. Know that you get but one question. Ask, and be answered.”
Lucky Star swallowed nervously. Minutes crept by in the ensuing silence, the quiet broken only by the occasional sounds of the old doe drinking tea.
“How can harmony return to Equestria?” he finally asked.
“It is well asked,” the seer said. A shadow passed over the corona of the fire outlining the doe's body, moving up and then down. There followed the crashing sound of a tea cup impacting the floor of the hut between them. The fire guttered behind the doe before dying to embers, completing the descent into complete darkness. Only the seer's eyes could be seen, shining with pale internal light.
Those eyes turned downward, and presently a faint blue-green glow could be seen on the floor. Uneven shapes formed patterns which hurt the eye and bewildered, pregnant with incomprehensible meaning. The doe's eyes rose from the patterns and stared unseeing across the room, blazing with cold light, yet illuminating nothing. Unseen forces compelled words from the seer, delivered in a low chant.
“The Pact is broken,
But behold,
Tarry not upon the field;
Amaranth unwavering,
Guard well the sun and the moon,
Lucky Star sat there in shock, trying to absorb everything he had heard. To remember. Before him, the seer's eyes diminished into the darkness and became invisible. The shapes on the floor flickered and were gone. Nothing but darkness remained.
Slowly, faint light appeared on the horizon, illuminating the cottage as the sun crested the horizon and scattered rays penetrated the foliage. But this was no accelerated solar cycle. This was a proper dawn.
“Look,” the seer gasped, “a new star awakens.”
Lucky Star tore his attention from the miracle of light. “What do you mean?”
“Heh heh. All the same in the end. Heh heh heh.” Sightless eyes met Lucky Star's gaze.
“Explain yourself!”
Still laughing, the seer faded to translucency before disappearing into nothingness. Her cottage vanished along with her, leaving Lucky Star sitting on the grass of a forest clearing.
The image faded to mist and was replaced by a view of a forest in darkness. A white unicorn filly clambered onto a large fallen tree with little grace. Behind her the light crunch of leaves from a second set of hooves sounded, and perhaps a unicorn shaped silhouette could be perceived in the contrast of black on near-black.
“Luna, is this the fallen tree we crossed before?” the white filly whispered.
“I don't know, there's a lot of fallen trees. They all look sort of the same...” The unicorn-shaped darkness jumped up beside the visible unicorn.
“Or they all are the same and we've been walking in circles longer than I thought.”
“Tia, are you lost? Are we lost?”
Celestia lay down on top of the log and crossed the pasterns of her forelegs over her poll joint. “I don't think the sun is rising from the east anymore,” she whined.
“Hey, snap out of it.” Luna nipped at Tia's flank.
“Luna!”
“Don't like it? Don't whine at me.”
“We should contact mom. She sent us that message, all worried about us. We should respond and tell her where we are.”
“No!” Stars sparkled in the depths of Luna's eyes. “Don't chicken out now, sis. We can take care of ourselves well enough.”
A black shadow passed overhead, blotting out the night sky visible through the hole the fallen tree had torn in the canopy, then gone again just as suddenly.
“Luna, what was that?”
“Too fast, I didn't get a chance to see. It was big, whatever it was.”
The stars disappeared again, and both unicorns looked up. Something large descended swiftly towards them, the rush of wind rattling branches and scattering fallen leaves about the underbrush below. The creature fell below the level of the canopy before leathery bat-like wings snapped out, almost blowing the ponies off the tree. Four large feline paws gripped the trunk as it landed, standing over Celestia. Too frightened to move, the sisters cowered before it. It took another step forward and roared with a lion's head, the carnivore's foul breath causing Celestia to gag.
Luna regained her senses first, bumping Celestia off the tree with her hip. She used the reversal of momentum to swivel around, facing away from the creature.
“Tia, run!” she screamed as she kicked out with her hind legs, catching the lion's snout with both hooves.
The white filly scrambled to her feet and took off through the woods like an arrow, a white streak racing into the darkness. Luna's hind legs made contact with the tree again, but as she turned to jump from the high surface she was forced to instead throw herself sideways away from the creature. What looked like a long snake whipped through the air where she had been before snapping back again. She managed to roll back to her hooves without stopping and immediately lunged off the tree.
Luna dodged between trees and around bushes at a breakneck pace in the darkened forest, her sister nowhere in sight. Hearing no sounds of pursuit, she eventually slowed. Her eyes roamed the underbrush before her.
The forest came to an end not far from her, and that's where she found Celestia. The white unicorn was sprawled just outside of the forest.
“Tia?” she whispered as she came close.
The sounds of rapid breathing and soft whimpering became audible as she got closer. Luna trotted up to her sister and nuzzled her with her nose.
“Luna, I tripped. I think I hurt myself really bad.” Celestia buried her muzzle in Luna's flank and cried.
“Shh. Shh. I don't think it's chasing us Tia. And we did finally make it out of the forest. It will be alright.”
She heard the flap of wings before she saw it. It had taken to the air again, crafty with malice, and followed their projected flight to where the forest ended. Slightly more cautious this time, it landed a dozen steps away from the fillies. Luna stared at it, eyes wide. Celestia still had her nose buried in her sister's mane, unaware and in pain.
“Tia. We need to move. Now.”
“What?” Celestia turned her head and saw the creature. It took a menacing step towards them. In fear, Celestia pushed herself away with her forelimbs, but one of her rear legs flopped helplessly and couldn't be brought to bear her weight. She fell over on her side with a whimper. Two heads showed their teeth to Luna, as if grinning in anticipation.
“Sis, I need you to get to the woods.”
Moonlight revealed the creature fully now. A muscled lion's body with one head to match, but paired with that head was a goat's, cobbled beside it off-center as if in afterthought. Large wings hugged its body. Behind it a sinuous tail whipped from side to side, carrying a third, serpentine head on its end that glared at the ponies with slitted eyes.
“Luna, I can't make it. Leave me!”
“No. Never.”
The dark filly pawed the ground with her right hoof and put her head down. The muscles of her hind legs tensed. The creature took another step forward and she sprang towards it, horn leveled. Pale energy flickered about her horn.
Moments before she drove her horn into it, the goat head lowered and, with a careless motion, caught her on its horns and threw her aside. She landed heavily on the grass, away from the forest and her sister. The wind flew out of her and she lay there gasping for breath. She rolled to face the creature, but it was ignoring her, intent on the the white unicorn who had somehow managed to get up on three legs. Luna rasped a warning that couldn't have been heard. Her sister wasn't moving. She was just standing there, facing the creature as it stalked towards her.
But the white filly's eyes weren't on the death that came for her. They were looking beyond it, beyond the horizon and past the edge of the world itself. Her irises disappeared and her sclerae lit up with brilliant white light. Her horn came ablaze. Somehow Celestia pushed herself back onto her one good rear leg, her eyes sightless but throbbing with power. Golden light sprang from her flank, fiery wings of pure magic which caught her and held her upright. Raised her aloft with a single stroke. Blazed with the glory of the sun and then became breathtakingly real. Celestia raised her forelegs above her head in exultation.
The creature cringed, backing itself away from the small unicorn in fear. With a hiss like a frightened cat, it turned and launched itself skyward. It fled into the distance, and was gone.
Celestia came gently back down to her three working legs, then settled on her side. She nosed her new wings in shock. But though the magic had faded from Celestia's eyes and horn, the light had not gone away. Dawn had come.
Luna finally managed to steady her breathing enough to pick herself up. She walked cautiously over to her sister.
“Tia, you have wings!”
“I have wings...”, her sister repeated, lost in her own amazement. Celestia turned to look at Luna, both fillies wide-eyed.
Luna broke the awkward silence “You know I still love you, even if you are a freak,” she teased, smiling.
“You're just jealous.” Celestia nudged Luna with her nose, causing the dark filly to sit down in front of her.
“Of course I'm jealous,” Luna said, pointing to the east with her hoof. “You raised the sun!”
Celestia turned to look at the dawn sun, as if noticing it for the first time. This wasn't the bizarre speeding orb of recent memory, but a normal, natural sunrise. Awe sparkled in her eyes.
“Luna, I can feel the sun. I can feel it with my mind.”
"I think that's enough for today," Twilight said, ending the spell.
"But it's early still!"
"Yes, early enough for a little filly to get to school on time. I do still know what weekdays are, you know."
Dayspring pouted. "School is just a waste of time. I can learn more on my own, reading. And its not like we're learning cool secret history or magic or anything else awesome."
"Hey." Twilight put a hoof on the filly's shoulder and held her eyes. "All knowledge is valuable. I don't care if its crop rotation cycles or mathematics or even … hoofwriting. " There was a distinct emphasis on that last word. "You never know what you'll need to know."
"I hate hoofwriting!"
"How do you think we got all those books in the first place? The printing press hasn't been around forever."
"Yeah, but..."
"Either you learn those things in regular school, or I will teach you. And I promise I'll be much harder on you than your current teacher is." She put her hoof down for emphasis.
Dayspring sat there, perhaps weighing the options in her mind.
"You know, there is another reason to go to regular school..."
"What's that, Twilight?"
"Make some friends. Certainly you aren't going to meet anypony besides me hanging around the castle."
"Yeah, but..."
"No buts. Off with you."
"But..."
"Make. Some. Friends. And don't forget this." Twilight levitated the letter to Dayspring, who took it in her mouth.
The filly sighed as best she could through the clenched teeth around the envelope as she slowly trotted towards the doors. She looked back once, when she reach them, but Twilight made a shooing motion with her hoof. And then Dayspring was out through the doors and Twilight was alone again in the hall of windows.
"Celestia as my witness, I don't think I was that stubborn... okay, it did take a royal order... you know, let's just say I deserve this... I'm talking to myself, aren't I?"
Dayspring's surprise arrival a couple days previous had disrupted long-established routines. Certain things had gone undone, remembrances that were important to Twilight, and so she found herself out in the gardens around the palace standing in front of a marble statue. Celestia as Twilight wanted to remember her. She was rendered with her legs folded under her, her muzzle and wing around a filly by her side. No cutie mark graced the filly's flank, nor did the statue commit to any specific detail which might have identified the pony. It wasn't important that the filly had been Twilight, and for all Twilight knew there had been others before her. One thousand years was a long time. It was Celestia's kindness that had been captured forever, written in every stone feather and muscle.
"You know, I'm not sure what should embarrass me more: that I waited several hundred years before I was ready to forgive you enough, or that it took me fifty years to work up the skill to make this. Guess we can't all be experts on everything."
Flowers had grown around the statue. Elegant tube-shaped flowers of a pink so pale they were almost white. Twilight didn't actually know what they were – she had scoured the library's botanical collection and utterly failed to identify them. For all she knew they were a novel species, somehow formed by the magic that had created this timeless place where she never need face the light of day.
"This isn't the first time I've wished you were here to talk to, but it might be the first time I could really use your help. And I know you aren't actually here in any sense... not even your horn, which is in the palace archives... and I had to call starlight for you... I wouldn't have been so cruel as to leave that undone, no matter how upset I was at the time... sorry, rambling... but my sense of you is here, and I suppose it doesn't actually matter if you can hear me or not, just talking helps sometimes.
"Um...
"Dear Princess Celestia,
"It's been a thousand years, give or take, since my last letter. I apologize for being a poor student of the magic of friendship.
"This week I learned that it doesn't matter if you think you can be forgiven or think you are worthy. Friendship is a gift that is not earned but given freely. The only thing you can do is try to be a good friend in return. So I'm going to try, and hope it doesn't all end in tears. Again.
"I think you'd like Dayspring. So young. So much wonder at the world around her. I think I was like that once, a very long time ago, when you took me in. It would be a shame to destroy that innocence, and yet, there are truths she needs to hear, and the enemy of innocence is ever knowledge. I could hide things from her, but you tried that and it didn't work out so well for any of us, did it? So what else am I to do?
"And yet childhood is precious. Is it so wrong to want to keep things from her, if only for a little while? But I can see the slippery slope down which you took us all from the top of that mountain. Just when did it all go wrong? When did it become easier to just let things continue on instead of coming clean? Did you fear I'd think you were a monster?
"I confess, I fear Dayspring will think us all monsters when all is told. How could she not? We are monsters, after all. Still, I'm not sure I could bear her reaction even now, and it's only been a few short days.
"I...
"I'm just going to talk myself in circles, so rather than work myself into a mess fixating on this, I'm going to think on it for a bit instead. Surely I have a little time to figure out how to get this right.
"Your faithful... no, that's not really true, is it? Your former student, Twilight."
The unicorn mare lowered her head to the statue, eyes closed. She breathed deeply, letting the fragrance of the flowers, whatever they might be, soothe her. She still had time.
Luna's memorial had its own private alcove in the maze, a small statue atop pedestal, carved together from one solid piece of marble. A cratered sphere – the moon – dominated the display. Curled before it was Luna as she was before and ultimately after her banishment, head alertly held up and face hopeful. Three small fillies nestled around her. Atop the moon, rearing, was Nightmare Moon in all her glory and terror. Around the column amaranth grew wild and untamed.
Twilight's lips twitched in a smile. Her parting shot at Celestia, carved in stone for all to see... well, all who could get to this garden. That was a remarkably small list.
"You were right. Well, most right. I blame myself, really. You and yours were the true innocents. You could have trusted me enough to tell me before events spiraled out of control. But for what it's worth, I'm sorry."
She wished she'd known the lunar alicorn better.
She surprised herself by voicing her next thought. "I forgive you and absolve you. It was not your fault." She paused. "I should have said that a long time ago. My friends would have forgiven you... if they could have... had they known. Too many victims." She worried her lower lip with her teeth. "I hope it's better wherever you are now."
She left the alcove uncomfortable and ashamed.
Life-sized statues of her friends were grouped together in a large intersection of the maze, the last ones she'd made. She'd spent a lot of time carving them, so many years ago, but now she only slowed her pace to look at them as she passed. She'd already communed with them a few days ago, and her sense of them was much stronger with the stained glass in the palace than here. This memorial wasn't for her. Too impersonal. Too public. This memorial was for others, someday. And she was already feeling guilty about visiting the last of the memorials several days late.
She disappeared deeper into the hedge maze, passing through a score of intersections without a moment's thought, turning sometimes this way and sometimes that.
Hidden within the maze was a small tombstone. It was far older than the other statues, and thus was just a simple headstone. Almost entirely replacing the hedge walls around the grave – and unlike the others this was a true grave – was a tight cluster of white lilac. Their perfume was heady in the close confines of the dead end.
The stone had no name or dates. Only a single sentence marred its face. An epithet.
Twilight stood in quiet contemplation, drawing strength from the place.
That which can be destroyed by truth should be , was all it said.
Author's Note
Sorry its been so long. As I'm sure often happens, I had a clear picture where I was going up to a point, then some general notes, and a clear idea where it was ending. Well, I got to the general notes and couldn't make things crystallize. Serving two masters – the frame story and the history story retold within it – is hard. At this point I've torn apart and pieced back together my notes, shuffling a bunch of stuff around. The frame story will be better served this way.
And sorry its short, but the next part really wants to be its own chapter.
For the curious, the epithet is a quote from P C Hodgell (at least in our world!).
Next chapter shouldn't take me nearly so long. Its time for Twilight to talk to someone other than Dayspring, after all. (Wild guessing encouraged, although really, there's only one logical candidate). I'll also make a note about how this fits in with season 3 next time. We're going to be diverging. (If nothing else, it's obvious the season finale won't fit with how I've conceived the world).
Interlude with a Draconequus
Twilight, my dear, I was beginning to think you'd forgotten all about me. Did you misplace your checklist?
Twilight had exited the maze and turned into the old statue garden, and even made it about halfway to the petrified draconequus, before the villain hadn't been able to keep it in any longer. She rolled her eyes as she passed the statues of Victory and Iron Shod.
"Something came up. You didn't notice? Maybe you do have limits after all."
You wound me. I am what I am without apology or regret. Twilight was never sure how the thought-projection managed to sound so much like Discord's actual voice.
Twilight sat before the statue. "Look, I don't want to fight. Didn't we tire of that ages ago?"
We did. Of course I remember. I have an impeccable memory – how else would I know what I've done before so I can avoid doing it again in the future? But things are changing. Even you, whether you acknowledge it or not.
"What do you mean?"
A thousand years and still you wander around looking like a regular pony. Even Celestia, useless overbearing self-righteous failure that she was, didn't hide that ridiculous mane of hers.
"This is who I am."
You can't lie to me, Twilight Sparkle. My eyes don't work so well – I hear lithification is terrible for vision – but I see the real you clearly with what senses are left to me. And for all you claim not to sparkle, my dear, you dazzle.
"The real me is in here," the alicorn said, pointing to her head with a hoof, "I choose to appear the way I see myself."
Maybe you're afraid what your new little friend would think if she saw the reality. As a pony she can relate to you, maybe even love you. But you're no more a pony these days than I am. We're post-equine beings, Twilight. We were meant for more than this.
"Of all the self-serving nonsense... I refuse to be some giant in the playground, kicking over everyponies' sandcastles, which seems to be all you ever want to do."
Or could it be that the facade is for you, so you can continue to think of yourself as a pony. Is it becoming hard to empathize with all those little ants scurrying about?
"You're just afraid that I'm actually going to do it. Give up the power and responsibility voluntarily and step aside, like Star Swirl intended."
Why should I care what ridiculous motions you go through to satisfy your sense of duty?
"Because you know I couldn't stay here and do that. I'd go, and you'd have no one to talk to. Poor little Discord would be left all alone."
I do like it when you show your teeth, my dear.
Twilight came to her hooves and shook her head. "I didn't come here to waste time sparring with you."
I'm sorry. Please don't go.
"Alright." Twilight sighed. "As I recall, we left off last year talking about Hoofstadter's theories about consciousness."
Why don't we talk about something more interesting?
"Such as?"
Do you look in on your little ponies from time to time?
"I... no. Their lives are their own."
That's one of the things I like so much about you, Twilight. You managed to do what Celestia never could. You let go. Its beautiful chaos out there. Oh, I'd be lying if I said there's been nothing but harmony, but for the most part they are happy.
"It's not like they need me to solve their everyday problems. Raising the sun and the moon, that's all they need me for."
I remember exactly when I first had that realization.
Twilight held her breath, her head cocked inquisitively.
I suppose that's when it all started to go right. Or perhaps wrong, if you prefer.
All the incessant demands to problems they could just as easily fix themselves. At first I did it gladly, because I was happy to help. But the years are long, and pleasure in a good deed quickly turns bitter when they come to rely on you. I should have realized sooner that I could just step away, that my princely functions were unnecessary.
"So why didn't you? Step away, that is."
Who says I didn't?
"What?"
Don't act so surprised. Through some trick of fate and magic you may have been graced with memories well beyond your own, but you've never been privy to mine, or only insofar as I share them with you.
"Or you could be lying to me."
Why tell a lie when the truth is so much more enjoyable?
Twilight chewed her lip. "So at what point am I to infer you had this realization, when things started 'to go right' according to you?"
That was the moment I began to allow myself to transcend my limitations. Became other.
"You like what you became." It was not a question.
I am delightful, fit for any occasion.
"Where are you going with this?"
You've been almost a thousand years without ponies to hold you back. You've read virtually the entire Royal Canterlot Library, practiced feats of magic thought impossible for millenia, and picked up the odd skill or two besides. You threw yourself to knowledge and served no other master for a thousand years. So tell me, Twilight Sparkle, what have you become?
"I don't find your insistence on this line of conversation endearing."
See something that frightens you?
"We're done. Maybe we'll talk next year, if I'm feeling generous."
You can run from me, Twilight, but not from yourself.
Twilight flicked her tail dismissively as she left the statue garden.
Dayspring had made it back to the castle later than she expected. Her parents had been full of bothersome questions about the letter, and had spent positively hours grilling her. Then they'd insisted she wait while they wrote a response. Which meant there'd be little time tonight to learn anything, but at least she'd be able to deliver her parents' answer, excessive formality and all. (It was 'yes', of course. Who says 'no' to a princess?)
Twilight wasn't in the hall with the stained-glass or atop the tower, which was somewhat worrying, as moonrise was not terribly far off. The palace was awful big, but worry overtook practical concerns.
It was probably dumb luck by which Dayspring found the study in less than an hour. Twilight was sprawled across a rug in front of a fireplace which dominated one wall, positioned so her head was facing away from the door and towards the room's only window. The mare didn't respond when Dayspring called her name.
Tentatively, she walked up and nuzzled Twilight's shoulder. "What is it, Twilight? Let me help."
A large wing folded itself around her and pulled her in close. Yes, everything was going to be alright.
Twilight never said a word nor turned her head, and if the trusting warmth curled up next to her brought her any comfort, she gave no sign. Sleep came eventually to the unicorn filly, but Twilight remained awake long hours afterwards, attention fixated on a point just below the window.
Stars danced in the blackness of Twilight's eyes.
Author's Note
A little longer to get out than intended. Sometimes your beta has time right away and sometimes s/he doesn't.
So Discord was kind of obvious. And yes, he's still a statue.
Which brings me to how this fits in with canon, since obviously it's no longer true that he's a statue in the show. Stay Calm and Flutter On doesn't happen. My Celestia would never trust Discord (and honestly, I'm not sure why she's willing to in the show either). Events are such that reforming Discord is a ridiculous notion. So, we now have a point of divergence: before Stay Calm and Flutter On. I was afraid it would come to that, since I started *before* season 3, and so there it is.
Fortunately, this also means the finale doesn't happen, since that also contradicts things I've already said or implied about alicorns and Twilight in particular. Alas, the problems with writing fanfic for a show that isn't actually done yet.
