Destiny

by Moonrise

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad
Length: 1895

Far ahead in the future, the Twilight looks back on her friend's lives.

Far ahead in the future, Twilight wakes with a start - she had a dream. The dream was that of the old days, when the mane six were still together, the days that are now just a smudge in the history books, long gone and long forgotten. As Twilight prepares for her royal duties, the memories of her past eat away at her, remembering it piece by piece. How does the newest alicorn reflect upon those lives which she drastically diverged from - all part of her 'destiny'?

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Published 2013-02-27 05:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-02-27 05:40:01 UTC

Remembrance

Remembrance

Twilight awoke with a sudden start, staring into the darkness of her chambers. Her face was drenched in sweat, and she was gasping for air. It was only after a small moment of trying to calm herself that she realized the wetness on her cheeks was not sweat, but in fact, tears. Twilight had the dream again. She pulled her covers off her bed, her wings stretching about behind her, stiff with sleep. She rubbed the tears from her eyes, rising from her bed. The sky was a painting, the last stars of the night being quickly replaced in warm glow of the sun's rays, the horizon painted pink as tip of the sun crested over the nearby mountains. Twilight let out a long sigh, pulling her robe closer to her and stepping out into the cold chill of the winter's air on her balcony. Her eyes followed the thin trail of breath escaping from her muzzle, watching as the chill turned it into a cloud dancing in the wind before being swept away by it. She stood there, breathing.

Twilight's gaze turned towards Ponyville. Her balcony had a perfect view of her old home - Celestia had made sure of that fact. Her eyes traced the impressive skyline that replaced the once humble little houses. A building that was both one's home and workplace was a concept that would confuse Ponyville's new population.

Her eyes turned away.

Rarity was dead.

Twilight wasn't sure what caused her to think of that - perhaps the intricate stitching on her nightgown, her gem-encrusted tiara, or even just the city itself. But once the thought was there, it stayed, refusing to budge, forcing her to think about her friend's demise.

Rarity was the second last to leave her. Her parents had died unexpectedly a few weeks after the coronation... Rarity was silent for the rest of the month, perhaps ironically. No couches were summoned, no dramatic gasps... her eyes had just seemed to dim, staring out at the world without seeing it. She could stand perfectly still for hours in the middle of a party, stop mid-sentence just to try and catch a glimpse at only her anguished mind was looking for. Not even Pinkie could cheer her up. It was only when Sweetie Bell, the poor, scared little filly, moved in with her did we begin to see her return. While smiles were much less often, they at least happened. Her laughs? Well, they were a rarity...

She did her best. And her best? It was very good. She raised her sister like her own. They grew up together. Sweetie Bell matured just as much as her sister through her parent's death... She eventually got her cutie mark. Singing. Rarity made the first dress she had in years, just for her sister to sing at the local bar... for the first time since her parent's death, she cried. Rarity had raised her own sister, and to see her finally all grown up... she was proud. All of us were, really. Rarity eventually got back into dressmaking - not as a profession, no. It was much more than that, by then. To her, it was an art. Each stitch a paint stroke, each fabric a canvas to work with, each button the crescendo to her masterpieces. She didn't get famous - and she didn't care. She didn't need recognition, she didn't need fame, she didn't need to be high on the social ladder. All she needed was to listen to her sister sing twice a night, and she was happy.

And then, Rarity died.

Twilight shielded her eyes with her wings as the sun rose further into the sky, the light now overpowering to look into. She turned back into her chambers, pulling a small, tattered plush out from under her bed. It was one of the last things Rarity had ever stitched, before she passed. It had been a masterpiece, each stitch perfectly placed, and each thread in perfect form, the small, plush, purple dragon with a heart of a gem.

It was hardly recognizable anymore.

"Your majesty? You have an appearance in the royal courts in Phillydelphia in a few hours - are you awake? Your majesty?"

Twilight stowed the plush away again. "Yes. We will appear when ready." She didn't remember the assistant's name. She made an effort not to. By far, she was the most secluded of the princesses, rarely leaving her chambers other than when needed. A bird chirped.

Fluttershy was dead.

She had the most peaceful death - the second to leave her. She had a quiet, humble life. She never moved out of her cottage. "Oh no, the city is too big for me." She always replied when asked to move. The forest was just as much as a home to her as the town, and to separate her from either wouldn't be fair. She had loved her animal friends. All of them. Perhaps that's how she took Rainbow Dash's death so easily. She was surrounded by it. Caring for bugs that only lasted a few days, raising bunnies that only lasted a few years. Even her plants would wilt in die many times before she did. She became even more of a recluse after her best friend had died, though. She didn't want to talk - and she didn't need too, not with her animals. Her animals probably understood her far better than we ever could.

She would nurse pets back to help, care for the fishes in the town pool, yes, but, she rarely if ever talked as her years dragged on. Her pink mane quickly dulled, the shy young mare turning into a quiet old one in front of our eyes. She grew her hair out - she kept it braided eventually, her hair dragging to the floor. She always looked so peaceful. She looked... happy.

And then, Fluttershy had died.

Twilight forced herself into the bathroom. She looked into the mirror, wiping her fresh tears away with the back of her hoof. She looked the same. Not a single gray hair on her head, not a single crack in her horn or wrinkle on her face. She stepped into the shower, turning it on as hot as she could and letting the steaming water was over her.

Rainbow Dash was dead.

She was the first to go, and the hardest one for us to deal with. It had just been a few years after we separated. Her wing tore a muscle in the midst of a show, the poor mare hurtling to the ground as a whole stadium watched.

At least her death would have happened before she felt any pain. That's what Twilight's parents said. They died, too. They felt pain before they died.

The rest of us were torn. Rarity's empty stare could make the world feel cold. Fluttershy disappeared into her cottage for weeks. Applejack sobbed at her grave for weeks on end. Twilight was forced to ignore it, continuing her royal duties as normal.

Twilight put her face into the water, letting it sear into her, letting the pain wash away her sadness. No - mask it. It was always there. She got dressed - everything Rarity made for her save the plush was now in the museum, or, destroyed. Some new dressmaker had taken her place - she made an effort not to know their name. She stepped back into the bathroom, staring at her mirror. Her wings, elegantly groomed, softly rustled behind her. A princess stared back at her, a golden tiara perched above her horn. The elements were in new care - she made an effort not to know their names.

Applejack was the third to go. She had what she wanted, all her life. A family. She met a farmer colt. She cared for Applebloom, before she moved off to Appleoosa. Big Mac stayed with her to her very last day. The house always stayed busy though. New generations of apples, generation after generation. Despite making an effort to not know their names, she knew one - Applejack. Her orange friend worked the farm. It never grew big, but, they never wanted it to. It stayed family sized. It could feed itself and have a few bucks on the side, as always, even now. Some things never change, but, everything always changes. She had died middle aged. She passed the farms down to her kids, and Big Mac stayed for a full twenty years after that. Grampa Mac. He was one of the last of the generation to go. He refused to see Twilight. She reminded him too much of his sister.

Twilight let out a frustrated cry, slamming her fist down on the counter. How was she supposed to do her makeup when her damn tears got in the way? She forced herself to change her line of thought. She forced herself to plan out her day - she lived in the present. She couldn't afford not to. She would finish getting ready, and go on a carriage to Phillydelphia. She would open the new public library - she already read all the books there - and then she would leave. Political parties would pounce on her arrival, looking for... parties.

Pinkie Pie was dead.

She was the last. Her's was the worst. She always gave everyone she knew a smile. Her kids, the Cake’s kids. She part timed at a suicide hotline. She worked at the children’s hospital. She never told us either of this. She didn’t want credit for it. She just wanted to be happy. She never grew up. She just never wanted too. She had a family – she even became ‘Granny Pie’ herself.

She never showed up at any of the funerals.

She grew old. Even her grandchildren were growing up. She became bedridden. Twilight had visited her every day. The worst part wasn't her death.

Pinkie forgot.

She forgot everything. She forgot the elements, she forgot her friends, she forgot discord and she forgot her own children. She forgot everything except her own name. Twilight would visit her every day, though. Pinkie would always compliment on her eyes, and always ask how old she was – and then who she was. Twilight never told the truth. Twilight just had Pinkie talk about what she could remember, to her very last breath.

“I wish you could come with me.”

Twilight let out a cry of sadness, burying her face in her pillow as her whole body convulsed. She sobbed, remembering them. She was forgetting them. She didn't want to forget them. She reapplied memory spells to force herself to remember. The pain of remembering would be nothing compared to having realized she forgot.

She cried, and cried, and cried.

The door creaked open. Her mentor’s voice filled the room with its calming presence. Twilight hated it. “Death is a part of life – you have to learn to accept it.”

Twilight’s tear filled, unfocused, quivering eyes met her mentor’s. “Then why can’t I die?”

The queen gently approached. She stayed quiet; waiting for when her student would finally run out of tears.

“Twilight…”

The queen sighed.

“I…I’m forcing you to endure what I never could. You’re immortal… because I am selfish.”

“You’re alive because I couldn't bear to see you die.”