My Final Friendship Report
My Final Friendship Report
Dear Princess Celestia,
My, it has been a long time since I’ve written you a letter, hasn’t it? Living together with you at the Castle means I never really needed to write to you, and besides, becoming a Princess was seen by many as a graduation from my Friendship studies, so I had nothing more to tell you.
But please don’t think that the lack of Friendship reports for the past years means that I’ve learned nothing. I’ve learned more than I ever thought I would. So here it is Princess. My final Friendship report.
When you first sent me to Ponyville, well, quite honestly I thought you were being ridiculous. At the time I’d never have said it, but that’s what I thought. I couldn’t understand it. My whole life had been plenty fulfilled before I had friends. My studies in Magic and the small amount of Companionship I received from the likes of Shining Armour, Cadence and of course Spike had kept me happy, and I didn’t need any more friends. In fact, I fully intended to check the preparations and then leave. Of course, now I know that you needed me to meet everypony in turn and grow a bond with them.
You were right. I needed them. Not just for the practical reasons, like combining to harness the Elements, but for me. I could have led my normal, mortal life as the star magic student of the Sun Princess. But thanks to them, I’m still alive over a thousand years after that day.
A thousand years, Huh? Feels like days. Immortality makes time feel like nothing. I still remember them all as being young and vibrant, rather than old and decrepit as they were towards the end. Does immortality also mean I can’t forget? I remember their goodbyes far too well.
First to go was Applejack. Severe injuries had stopped her from bucking, and that pretty much broke her. A passionate workhorse like her couldn’t survive just doing nothing. We were all sad when that happened – but even that taught me something. Her Element outlived her. Even as we gathered around to say farewell she was brutally honest, telling us that she didn’t know what was beyond her life, and she didn’t know if she’d ever see us again. She wouldn’t lie for the sake of settling our hearts will falsities.
Next was Pinkie Pie. Diabetes took her. Doctors told her to stop with the sweets, but she just wouldn’t. She carried on baking and tasting and throwing parties right up until the end. That taught me something, too. We didn’t have much chance to say goodbye to Pinkie, but even as the Ambulance took her away she was grinning from ear to ear. Laughter and cheer outlived the pony it embodied.
Fluttershy’s death was a bit more tragic. I suppose we should have predicted an accident like that. She’d always been frail, but living alone out of town with large animals? She just couldn’t keep up any more. The day she fell down the stairs shocked those of us who remained, and though we had no chance to tell her goodbye we later found out from Rainbow, who found her, that she was still comforting her animals right up to the end. Kindness prevailed.
I was getting scared at that point. Three of my friends were gone. I had known for a long time that I would outlive them, but why so soon? Time goes so quickly when you live forever – I wasn’t ready for goodbyes. Frightened, I begged for Rarity and Rainbow Dash to be moved to the castle, where they could be safe and looked after. It was several years after that we lost Rarity.
She’d become quite social in her life in Canterlot, but the parties had tired her out. She was too old to go to the races and spend hours on end sewing. Yet still she kept pushing it, spending days on end locked away in her Canterlot Boutique. When we found her it was too late, but we found two designs for the most regal dresses I’ve ever seen, and their half-finished forms. The scrawled note on the designs told us all we needed to know. Rarity had been making us gifts when she died. I don’t think I need to tell you what that says about her Generosity.
So that was it. I was left with one friend left, just Rainbow. I became, admittedly, protective, and spent every spare moment by her side. Even as she aged, far beyond the years of a normal pony, I was too scared for farewells. Alicorns don’t need sleep, as you well know, and I spent all my time by her bed, pleading silently. It took weeks of being bedridden for her to fade. Occasionally she would liven up for an hour or so, before collapsing again. My heart ached. I told her I didn’t want her to die. I cried. I begged her. And each time she smiled at me and promised she’d try. For your sake, Twilight, she told me. For your sake I’ll keep living. It worked for a while.
But even the Element of Loyalty couldn’t keep that promise.
You might be wondering what I learned from my friend’s deaths, Princess. I can imagine the conclusions that you came to.
Rarity’s Generosity, Rainbow’s Loyalty, Fluttershy’s Kindness, Pinkie’s laughter and Applejack’s Honesty. They all outlived them. I figure you read this and thought the same. The spirits of those ponies have outlived the bodies they inhabit. They’re not gone. They still live. I know that.
So why, Princess? Why don’t I feel any better?
Instead, I cry. It’s been a thousand years, but I still hurt. What’s more, I’m angry. Why didn’t Applejack fill my head with lies about heaven and pearly gates, so I could think she was going on? Why couldn’t Pinkie be solemn and soft at that most painful of times? Fluttershy’s final efforts should have been spent getting help, and maybe she’d not have died! Rarity’s final act of generosity was wasted! And even Rainbow’s determination and fierce loyalty couldn’t delay the inevitable.
And it’s not just them, either. I’ve seen generations of ponies born and die. I’ve seen them fight through life just to have it stolen away from them.
So that’s my lesson, Princess. That’s what I’ve learned.
If I love somepony I can’t get close to them. They’ll only die and give me a thousand years of agony. Eventually Equestria will end, and then there’ll be nopony. Yes, you’ll be there, but after a thousand years I barely know you anymore.
At first I loved being a Princess. I loved the responsibility, the joy, the overwhelming love I felt from everypony. Now, though, I wish you’d given me a chance to think about it.
I wish you’d told me the truth about this pain.
Because trust me, if I had known what this life would do to my heart I wouldn’t have taken it. I’d have said no, and chosen death’s sweet embrace. But nowadays, I don’t have that choice. I can’t die. I’m stuck, alone and empty forever.
The other day you came to me, Princess, for the first time in years, and you asked me for a Friendship Report.
Over the past thousand years I’ve learned a very important lesson about Friendship. It hurts. It can make you love more than you’ve ever loved before, and hate everything in the world. Friends will make you into something you’ve never thought possible – but if they leave, if you’re parted, then Friends can and will break you. Ultimately, it’s okay if you think it’s worth it.
I don’t think it was.
Yours,
Princess Twilight Sparkle.
