Applebloom looked down at the most imposing tome that she had ever seen. It sat on the impromptu table formed by the desks of Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and herself, dominating the surface entirely. "Changes In Equestrian Society In The First Hundred Years After Nightmare Moon's Banishment," the earth pony said, quoting the title to nopony in particular. Her voice didn't carry far in the din of the class; the room was filled with the sound of students familiarizing themselves with their own books, as well as the more sizable noise of students ignoring the schoolwork entirely. Applebloom glanced around the room, and noted that the other groups appeared to be having a lot more fun than hers.
Sweetie Belle still seemed shell-shocked at the sheer size of their assignment. Her eyes wide with disbelief, she complained, "I really wish that we had been able to choose our book. I think we got the worst Equestrian History assignment in the history of Equestrian History. How are we going to do a report on a book that weighs more than we do? Look at this thing! It's huge!" Her forelegs gesticulated wildly in the direction of the tome, which did not deign to respond.
Scootaloo replied with a dismissive grunt. "I really wish we'd been able to choose our groups," she said, looking over at a nearby group of pegasi, "This is the last project of our last year of school. I want to be able to do it with my friends."
"Then I guess we'll just have to finish it quickly," Applebloom said, using a hoof to flip the heavy cover to reveal the first page of many.
"Hey, what's that?" Sweetie Belle asked as her horn started to glow. She used her magic to grab a small, folded piece of paper, tucked into a corner of the cover. The unicorn unfolded it and started to read, first gasping, then giggling at the words.
Applebloom looked on with impatience. "Well, what's it say?"
"It's a loooooove letter," Sweetie Belle responded, an amused smile on her face, "Here, read it." She floated the page to Applebloom, who looked it over.
The note was addressed to a 'special customer', and the neat text and perfect grammar gave contrast to the writer's apparent ignorance in the area of romance. It was almost as though the sender hadn't even known that they were writing a love letter. Applebloom couldn't help but smile in sympathy; she'd been ignorant of the birds and the bees at one time as well. "This is just too funny. That poor pony. I wonder how long this has been in that book. Scootaloo, want a look?"
The pegasus glanced at the paper, her mouth twisting in distaste. "Not really. Seems kinda lame to me, some old love letter in a dusty library book." She returned her gaze to the classroom's clock and began to tap her hoof on the table impatiently.
Applebloom turned her attention back to the letter, "I wonder if they ever ended up together. Whether the customer even got this note. How'd it end up in this old book?" She was suddenly overcome by a wave of nostalgia. "D'y'all remember when we would have seen this and done somethin' like yell 'Cutie Mark Crusader matchmakers, go!' and tried to figure out this note and get the two ponies together? For all of about five minutes, of course."
That brought a bark of laughter from Scootaloo, "Ha! Yeah, we were so lame back then." She smiled just a bit, her eyes distant.
Applebloom managed an uneasy grin and a weak laugh, "Heh, yeah, lame." In truth, she missed the days of the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Sometimes it seemed like just yesterday that the two ponies in front of her had been her best friends, but for the last few years, they'd rarely spoken. After they all had discovered their cutie marks, they just sort of... grew apart. Now Sweetie Belle spent all her free time with her choir friends, Scootaloo was always at track and sky practice, and Applebloom was usually busy helping her siblings out on the farm. The young Earth pony doubted that they'd ever reconnect, especially with Scootaloo headed off to flight school in Cloudsdale next year and Sweetie Belle applying to colleges in Canterlot and Fillydelphia.
Sweetie Belle used her magic to fold the letter up and slip it back into the book. She looked a bit sad as she said quietly, "We should leave it in there. Maybe someday, it'll find that special customer."
Applebloom agreed, but as the bell rang and they closed the tome, she couldn't help but pity the sender of the note. A message like that, she knew, was sent from the feelings of one pony to the feelings of another. She couldn't help but think that a letter lost for so long might as well be an envelope marked with two addresses that no longer existed.
***
The Mare sighed as she closed the front door to her house and slipped off her collar of office. She'd dreaded coming home, even more than she had dreaded her inevitable defeat. When she'd lost, she had been among her supporters, few as they were, and their kind words and sympathy had softened the blow. They'd all seen it coming; every politician loses an election sometime, and her opponent had run an amazing campaign, to nopony's surprise. Everypony had known that Twilight Sparkle would become the next mayor of Ponyville as soon as she had announced her candidacy.
The Mare was surprised that the unicorn had waited this many years to try to run; the leadership and administrative ability that the librarian had shown over the years of winter wrap-ups and crises from giant bears to plagues to riots had convinced The Mare that Twilight would inevitably replace her at some point. She had just always hoped that the point would be one far in the future.
As she lit the silent rooms of her home one by one, a realization hit The Mare: she wasn't going to be the mayor once Twilight took office. The house had always seemed empty, just one mare living in what was intended to be a family home, but The Mayor had always brought a sense of purpose back from her job, and that determination had seemed to fill the building and keep her company on the long, lonely nights. Now, The Mare could only bring the grim spectre of defeat, which seemed to speak from the dark corners of the rooms, filling her with doubts: 'where do you go from here?' and 'what will you do with yourself now?', but most dreadfully, 'was it all worth it?'. The night got colder when The Mare realized that she just didn't know.
Twilight had told The Mayor that she could stay on as an advisor after the change of office; she was, after all, more familiar with the position of mayor than anypony else in Ponyville. The Mare wondered how long that would last, and what she could do after, and how it would feel to train her replacement for a position to which she'd dedicated nearly two thirds of her life. She shuddered at the line of thought, and resolved to drown it in a stiff drink. She didn't bother mixing the clear alcohol with juice as she normally did; that night, The Mare just wasn't in the mood. She shuddered at the taste, but managed to down quite a bit in one long draw.
Presently, The Mare felt a bit better, or at least less aware of how bad she felt. She glanced idly around the room, thoughts unfocused. A campaign poster prototype hung on one wall. That would have to go. A banner had been hastily kicked under the sofa, and The Mare could still read 'CONG' as the first few letters. Probably a part of an aborted party to congratulate her on her victory. She wondered why her staffers had gone through the trouble of making the banner when they should have known that they'd never use it. She supposed that they might have kept the one from the previous election. Her eyes settled on a closed book set in a stand on the opposite side of the room.
She'd checked the biography out of the library before the election season, but hadn't had a chance to read or even touch it after bringing it home, being busy with the campaign. It was written about one of the more famous mayors of Fillydelphia, a statespony that she'd always looked up to. It was sure to have details from after he retired; perhaps it would have some insight into what a politician could do when their public life came to an end. She made her way unsteadily across the room and stabilized herself against the stand before flipping open the book, struggling to focus her eyes on the page.
The Mare's vision settled on a note that had been slipped into the book, just small enough to fit between the cover and the first page without being noticed. The Mare was lucky that it was open and readable immediately; she doubted that she could have even flipped it over had it been placed with the writing facing the other direction, much less flatten it had it been bent along the creases of past folds. The Mare slowly read through it, and shock over the contents of the note sobered her a bit as she scanned the letter a second time to confirm what she'd read.
It was from Twilight to Big Macintosh, and it appeared to be a love letter. The Mare considered how public knowledge of this note would have been quite awkward for all involved; Big Mac and Fluttershy were expecting their third foal soon. If she'd known about this before the campaign, the scandal might have been enough to-
No. No, she wouldn't have wanted to win that way. Besides, the letter looked old, and like it had been folded and unfolded several times over the years. It had probably been written long before Big Mac and Fluttershy had married. The Mare felt a bit of sympathy for Twilight; the letter was incredibly well written, full of imagery comparable to some of the best romantic poets she'd read, and the feelings it expressed seemed so strong and pure that it struck The Mare as a shame that the letter obviously hadn't worked. Twilight had never dated Big Macintosh. Actually, thinking back, The Mare couldn't remember Twilight ever dating anypony.
The Mare sighed. That was another thing that she had in common with her victorious opponent; she'd never been in a relationship with anypony either. Straight out of school, she'd become the administrative assistant of the previous mayor, and after taking on more and more of his responsibilities to make up for his incompetence, she'd soundly defeated him in the first mayoral election after she had graduated. After that, she'd just been consumed by her work; she lived and breathed Ponyville, and had never had time for hobbies and stallions. Now, the empty silence of her house reminded that she'd never found romance, never married, never had foals. Hadn't she wanted all that, way back in the distant past of her childhood?
The Mare stared at the love letter for a long time, thinking. She wasn't dead yet. She could still find love, find happiness as The Mare instead of The Mayor, even get a new job in something other than politics. She had a lot of money saved up; she could move to Manehattan. She was sure that there would be plenty of single ponies her age in the largest city in Equestria.
The Mare closed the cover of the book. The dry biography had helped her, she thought, but not in the way she'd expected. She intended to return it to the library in the morning, and tell Twilight that she couldn't accept a position as an advisor; she intended to move out of Ponyville as soon as the unicorn was sworn in to office. She left the note inside, in the hope that it would help other ponies as it had helped her.
The Mare smiled; her life wasn't over yet, and she intended to enjoy it to the best of her ability for as long as she could.
***
Twilight Sparkle sat, legs folded under her, on a cushion in the center of the library as a classful of young fillies and colts wandered around her tree. Their teacher was trying but failing to keep them all at a respectful volume, and their enthusiasm made the unicorn smile. The population of Ponyville had grown over the decades, but the library was still at its busiest when a local school picked it as the destination for a field trip. Twilight didn't mind; she had been the center of attention often enough to grow comfortable with the position.
Twilight generally proved to be a more interesting curiosity than the library itself to young ponies. Inevitably, there were questions about what it had been like to preside over Ponyville as mayor, and about what things had been like when she was young. She'd given up protesting that she wasn't that old when her mane had faded to gray, and now her coat, mane, and tail were all bleached pure white with age. Her horn had faded to white, and then gained the yellow-brown tarnish of old ivory. Only her cutie mark was unchanged, still brilliant purple after all these years. Nopony else in Ponyville was near as old as she, so she could understand the curiosity the foals had about the effects age had on a unicorn as ancient as Twilight.
The teacher looked anxious about her class's behavior as she stood next to the librarian's resting place, "I'm sorry about the mess they're making, Twilight Sparkle. I'll get them to clean up before they leave."
Twilight reassured the other mare in the croak that never stopped sounding strange to her own ears, "Don't worry too much about it. Let them have their fun. I'll have plenty of time to clean up when you're back at the school." Twilight had liked Schoolday Blues since the teacher was just a filly, always interested in learning and books and explainations. She'd never have admitted it to the others, but Schoolday was her favorite among Pinkie Pie's great-grandfoals. They chatted idly while the students investigated all the obscure corners of the library, read bits of interesting-looking books on magic, and asked Twilight the occasional question. They made her tell the story of defending the town from a full-grown ursa major twice. Eventually, it was time to go, and Schoolday Blues herded the students out the door and back toward the schoolhouse.
Humming to herself, Twilight called upon her magic. The room filled with a purple glow as she levitated all of the books that had mysteriously ended up on the floor. The cataracts in her eyes made it hard to read at a distance, so she brought each book to her face in turn to read the title before whisking it off with a burst of purple light, sending them precisely where they needed to go; she knew the library by heart, and remembered the place for every book. Still, she somtimes missed having Spike around to help out; he'd gone to take his first draconic nap some years back, and with over ninety years left before he woke, Twilight didn't expect to see him ever again. He probably would have made some smart remark about expecting her to get up to help, anyway. It had been years since she'd stood to move a book the Earth pony way; her muscles were so weak and her bones were so brittle that she relied on magic almost entirely when she needed to move around. Without her horn, mundane tasks like getting the library in order would have been impossible, but with it, she made good progress. Soon, the floor was clear, the books were arranged, and the work was done.
That's when Twilight really started to feel alone. Her work kept her busy, which was why she had insisted on continuing to serve as Ponyville's librarian well past when most ponies would have retired. In decades past, she would have received visits from her friends, or gone to see them, even Rarity in Canterlot, but one by one they had passed away. Fluttershy, the last survivor among the friends that the unicorn had gained on the day of Nightmare Moon's return, had died almost a decade before. Twilight remembered it as clearly as if it had happend yesterday; the pegasus had looked so serene when she passed on, like she never had to fear anything again. Twilight recalled the funeral, scores of Fluttershy's foals, grandfoals, great-grandfoals, and all their families had gathered in mourning. She wondered sometimes who would attend her funeral; all her close friends were long gone, and she had no foals of her own. She supposed that when the time came, she wouldn't be in a position to care.
The opening of the library door interrupted her morbid thoughts, and she saw by the sun that several hours had passed. A young unicorn entered the room hesitantly, and Twilight looked at her with a welcoming smile; Twilight recognized one of the fillies from the class that had visited her earlier. "Hello there. What brings you back so soon?"
"Um... Hi Auntie Twilight," the filly said hesitantly, "I'm looking for a book."
It seemed these days that more than half the foals in Ponyville were descended from one of Twilight's friends or another, when they weren't related to two or more, and all of those young ponies called her Aunt or Auntie. Twilight couldn't help but swell with some pride whenever she heard them call her that; she had no more blood neices and nephews than she did sons and daughters, but it was nice to pretend.
"Well I think I have one or two around here somewhere," Twilight quipped, "You looking for just any book, or for one in particular?"
"I remember it from earlier. It had a note in it. I think I can find it." The filly went to the shelves and in a few moments, she levitated a quite a large tome on introductory magic over to Twilight and set it down in front of her. "Can I check this one out? I remembered it because of the note I found in it today."
Twilight smiled at the little unicorn. She was too young to have a cutie mark, but was already levitating large objects. "My, my. That's some impressive magic for such a little pony! And you're going to study more, I see."
Nodding, the filly struck a pose clearly intended to be heroic, "Yeah! I'm going to become the bestest magic pony ever, and protect Ponyville and be awesome just like you. You're my hero, Auntie Twilight! I'm going to read every day till I can lift an ursa."
"A good goal. Just remember the one thing more important than strong magic."
The little pony tilted her head as she looked at Twilight quizzically. "What's that?"
"Strong friendships. You can have the strongest magic in Equestria, but it won't make you happy when you're alone. Strong magic or not, if you have strong friendships, you'll go far. Just remember that. And what note did you find?" Twilight lectured with a smile as she filled out some paperwork for the library's records.
The smaller unicorn's horn glowed as she opened the front cover of the book and levitated a small scrap of paper close enough to Twilight that the mare could read it.
"Just a little note, I don't really know why it was there, Auntie Twilight."
Seven words. There was no indication who the note was to or from, but Twilight knew. Seven words, and so simple, but Twilight remembered writing them, so very, very long ago. The third note she had written had been the shortest, but it was the essence of what she had felt. What had taken the first two letters paragraphs to express had been stripped down to seven words that said it all. She managed not to break down in front of her customer as she slipped the note back into the book. "Why don't we keep that in there? I think it's a message that anypony would do well to read and take to heart. That's a good enough reason not to take it out."
Twilight levitated the book into the small unicorn's saddlebag, and wished the filly luck in school as she left the library, weighed down slightly by the large tome.
Then Twilight was alone with her strong magic and thoughts of the note. Seven words, but she remembered the message to Big Macintosh perfectly after all these years:
I love you. Please don't ignore me.
