Twilight had just left her Twinkle Balloon with Spike and was about to run into Pinkie Pie, who would, of course, get very excited and very confusing. This was the best part for Twilight, the old friends. She usually got to see five before she woke up. Spike -- real Spike -- was jealous.

This time, though, she ran into someone unexpected. “Trixie? But I didn’t meet you until a lot later. And you weren’t an alicorn then.” She went from suspicious to a little accusing. “I’ll have you know, my dreams are usually better organized than this.”

“I’m real,” Trixie told her quickly. “Dream duty, remember? Twilight, you need to get back to Canterlot. You need to get there as soon as you can.”

Twilight realized what was happening, and fought hard not to wake up just yet. “Trixie, I can’t move as fast as I used to a century ago, you know that.”

“Right. Transportation should be there soon, Twilight. OK, it’s there now. Wake up, Twilight.”

“Trixie, wait! How is--”

“Wake up, Twilight! Wake up, now!”

She woke, to see a draconequus looming over her expectantly. Without a word, he took hold of her hoof, and they were suddenly in a well-lit room filled with doctors, nurses, and downcast expressions.

“Twilight,” Discord said somberly as he let her go. “For whatever it’s worth, give her my regards. Tell her, well, tell her that it won’t be the same without her.” And with that he was gone, leaving her blinking in the light.

A door opened, and Luna ushered her into the private room. Everypony was in a hurry. It couldn’t be good.

It wasn’t. Celestia had never looked so small as she did in that bed. When she smiled up at Twilight, though, her eyes were as alive as ever. “My faithful former student. Twilight, thank you for coming.”

“Princess, no, please! Just a little longer? This is all my fault.”

Celestia shook her head, slowly. “This was not your fault, Twilight. And even if it were... If I cannot convince you that you are blameless in this... I forgive you.”

Twilight had no answer to this but a nod, and a hoof pressed to Celestia’s shoulder. Celestia laid her hoof upon Twilight’s, and continued. “I heard that a wise mare once said, the most important thing isn't how much time we have together, but making our time together count. You’ve always made every second count.”

“I think that mare was an idiot,” the younger alicorn objected sourly. Her voice cracked at the last, though, and she shook her head. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice thick with unshed tears. “I wanted to be strong for you. Not like this.”

Celestia laughed, unevenly. “Twilight, you have been strong, incredibly so. It’s one of the many-” She was cut off by a fit of coughing. When she could talk again, her voice was noticeably weaker. “You’ve always been strong for me. Thank you. I’m sorry I forbade them from telling you how bad it was. Now, for both our sakes, you need to do one more thing for me.”

“Anything.”

“Let me go.”

“Anything but that.”

Celestia tried to laugh again, but had to settle for a wan smile. “I don’t mean to stop caring. Think. What will you want for Spike to feel... when your time... comes? That’s... what I... want for you. Don’t take this as... a failure. All stories end. It’s...” She paused to catch her breath, and found she couldn’t. “Luna will explain.” She looked at her sister, then to Twilight. “Sorry... excuse...?”

“Of course,” Twilight said. “I’ll be just outside. Wait. Princess, any regrets?”

“Yes,” Celestia smiled, and breathily said, with a comical air of immense disappointment, “Fillydelph... Garden show... Only second place this year.”

Twilight smiled back, gently. “Discord sends...”

“I know.”

Twilight nodded, and fled before she completely broke down.

After another half hour was spent in a frustrating, frantic maelstrom of thought and theorizing, hypothesis and hopelessness. I should be able to fix this. That’s what they all depend on me for, right? I solve problems. I just need to solve one more. All the while, she knew this was precisely why her princess had kept her in the dark.

All this, and her world too, came crashing down upon her when Twilight saw Luna walk slowly out of the room, and Twilight knew. Luna’s eyes were unreddened, her muzzle unstained by tears. Indeed, she wore no expression at all, and didn’t seem to see Twilight even when looking right at her.

Twilight approached, hesitantly laying a hoof on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“Twilight,” Luna began. “My sister wanted me to explain. Remember what she said to me on the day you freed her?”

The day I doomed her, you mean, Twilight thought, but there was no trace of blame in Luna’s voice. Then again, there was no emotion at all. “She said... She said she ‘never would have.’ She meant she would never have taken life from you, didn’t she?”

Luna nodded, still without expression. “I was not simply there to take over if she failed. If we faced a dearth of alicorns instead, the plan was for my life to be used to sustain her. I think she wanted you to know what kind of fate you freed us from.”

“I think, at last, maybe I do.” She blinked away tears. “What will you do now?”

Luna shook her head. “I am sorry I cannot stay and grieve with you, after you have done so much for me. Even when mad, I knew she was out there. She was always there, for so very long, that I cannot imagine her not being there. I simply cannot face it and stay whole.” She frowned, her first sign of emotion since... “I will be returning someplace I now wish I had never left.”

Realization set in, and alarm immediately after. “But you can’t live there now! Luna, you have friends here. Let us help!”

“Believe me when I say I know you would try. I only have weeks, myself, Twilight, and those are weeks I cannot withstand without her. If realization truly set in, I might not be safe for those around me. Already I fear that I can feel madness at the edges of my mind once again.

“I’m sorry, Twilight. Thank you, again.”

And with that, and a flash, she was gone.

There was a balcony nearby; Twilight knew that from memory. She stepped outside to be alone, feeling truly alone in any case, and to look at the Mare in the Moon.

Thus it was she saw that Trixie somehow knew, too. Overhead, one by one and without any fuss, the stars were going out.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

“Thanks for the lift, little brother,” she told the dragon as she and a younger alicorn slipped off his back at the cemetery gates.

“Any time, big sister,” he replied down to her, somberly. “I’ll wait here, if that’s OK.”

“She’d understand, Spike,” Twilight answered easily. He was just too big now to fit without knocking down tombstones.

Gingerly, mindful of her own age, she walked through the cemetery, giving a sad smile here, running a hoof over a tombstone there, until she reached the one she was there for that day. She left the younger mare a few steps back as she knelt at her mentor’s flower-covered grave, head bowed a few moments in silence. She then took a diamond case from her pack and laid it gently amid the flowers. Standing, she went back to her student.

“That was your teacher?” Hope asked.

“Yes, my faithful student. Though she taught everyone, really.”

Hope considered. “What was she like?”

Twilight smiled. “She was the best.”

“But her sister was Nightmare Moon, wasn’t she?”

Twilight paused, thoughtfully. “Personally, I like to think that the Mare in the Moon watches over us at night. I can explain more in a few years, if you want me to.”

Hope looked a little petulant, but just a little. “I’d really like to know now, Princess.”

Her mentor smiled down at her. “I can see that. It’s a difficult lesson, but maybe you’re ready after all. Have I ever mentioned how proud I am of you?”

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Trixie was going to officiate over the ceremonies concluding the official period of mourning. Big Mac knew she was always better with crowds than he. For his own sake, he was going to honor his princess in his own away, and for this he had a cart harnessed behind him and stacked high.

“Your Highness!” Big Mac recognized the voice of the head gardener. “Please, let me help!”

Prince McIntosh (the First) shifted the royal stalk of wheat to the other side of his mouth. “Ah reckon ah know how to plant.”

“I know,” the gardener said, his expression pleading. “But please, I really do want to help with this.”

Big Mac recognized another grieving soul. ‘My little ponies always come first,’ she said, time and time again. “Sure,” he said. “Come along. Ah figure the central front plot fer these?”

“Of course,” the gardener said. “Sunflowers would look lovely there.”

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

She’d expected the bright light. Over her long life, she’d heard more than a few near-death experiences. She had never decided whether it was the last sensation of a dying brain or something more real, but she’d taken comfort in the idea that, either way, dying didn’t sound as scary as it might be.

She was also aware of another sensation. It felt like those few times she’d been sick, or, more precisely, the times right after, when the limbs feel a little rubbery and the head a little lighter. Was it truly release, or mere sensations from dying nerves? She didn’t know, and yet was utterly calm in her consideration.

She felt movement, and she felt forgiveness, but still she didn’t know. She’d expected forgiveness from millennia of it, and her own imagination might be desperately providing it now.

Then she felt welcome, which surprised her, and that was how she knew.

My friends!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

In a cemetery just outside Canterlot, on a grave on a hill, there lies a diamond case amidst the flowers. In that case there lies a scroll.

Dear Princess Celestia,

Spike’s dating. I thought you’d want to know. I think it was after he lost Rarity. Not that he ever really had her, but he was there to remind her that, of all the broken hearts she was leaving behind, his was the biggest. Anyway, one of the ambassadors from the dragon realms has a daughter, Claudia, and her father was thoughtful enough to immerse her in Equestrian culture. They’re like two peas in a pod now. It’s adorable, and I have to be careful indeed never to tell him that.

Hope is coming along nicely. Sometimes I think all her questions will drive even me to distraction, but then I remember how patient you were with me. It really is worth it, isn’t it?

I was afraid I’d be angry with you, but I’m not. It was Big Mac who did the math, but we both think you slipped a few years back to me, somehow. I shouldn’t be able to be certain, especially as I still don’t even know how you did it, but I am certain nonetheless. You should have asked me first, but, like I said, I’m not angry. So today I learned that sometimes your friends feel they have to do what they think is best for you and, even if you don’t agree, you should still know they did it because they’re your friends.

It appears that I’m still learning from you, and so I can sign this, in all honesty,

Your faithful student,

Twilight Sparkle

Author's Note

I've heard authors say from time to time that a character helped write their story. This is the first time that's happened to me. A tale that started as Twilight's became more a distillation of Celestia's character, and the character demanded closure.