All the Ways You've Made Me Proud
Ancient magic crackled through the crystal structure; Celestia was vaguely aware of the distant cries of alarm the crystal ponies let out as the uppermost level of the palace tower windows blew out showering crystal glass on the ponies taking refuge in the square.
Ordinarily she would have been more concerned with their safety but today was not ordinary at all and there was only one pony she was concerned with.
Old power warped the corridors she traversed, shallow cracks had formed—whether as a result of the blast or the resulting aftershock the princess couldn’t tell. The residual threads of the spell made teleportation inadvisable and magic unreliable. Celestia didn’t know what the spell was doing yet; she needed to see the source of the spell matrix. She needed to get to the source.
The palace’s halls were too narrow for the great mare to make any use of her immense wingspan and outside the battle raged. Still, earth pony strength, stamina, and speed made short work of the endless stairs. Her hooves beat out a tattoo of haste against the marble floor; she might as well have been flying so great was her speed. Spike’s words swam through her mind; her pace doubled.
It wasn’t going to be enough.
Her heart pumped frantically as she turned the last corner and finally reached the focal point of the blast.
In the center of the room there was an empty pedestal where the Crystal Heart had presumably once rested; the magical artifact had been ensconced within an elaborately carved runic trap disguised as an aesthetic dais. Of greater concern was the freshly laid runic circle that wrapped around both the dais and the pedestal, it had been laid in blood; a lot of blood. The grisly circle had been expertly and intricately drawn and was completely uniform apart from the purple mare slumped over on her side severing the connection.
To Celestia’s eyes the circle was as beautiful as it was horrifying. Twilight had as always done good work; when she was younger the mare had taken to runes quickly, her attention to detail was ideal for the meticulous magic at hoof. Despite what it might have appeared to the casual observer the spell was working. The runes shone a vibrant gold unperceivable to mundane senses, Twilight’s body glowed as well—it wasn’t interfering with the spell—it was part of it.
“Oh, Twilight.” Celestia whispered, her heart clenching in her chest. The words, though they had been uttered as soft as any prayer, roused the mare. A bloodshot purple eye rolled open and sought out the noise’s source.
Twilight Sparkle smiled weakly at her beloved mentor, it was nice to see the princess now—the nightmarish vision the door had given her would have been a terrible last memory of Celestia. The beautiful white mare seemed to hover above her face; the princess’s normally serene features were drawn with worry. Twilight wished she could know what had upset the other mare so. “Did it work?” She asked, trying to take the princess’ mind off the subject of distress.
Celestia turned her head briefly, tracking the magic to the gaping hole that had once been a window. She eyed the rose dome that shimmered in the morning sun. The malevolent spiral of energy that Sombra had been reduced to battered the dome but he had been pushed back, for now at least. “A shield spell? It seems solid but it won’t stand against Sombra for long—what did you do?” The Princess of the Sun lowered herself to the ground, as close to her student as she could get without disrupting the spell; interfering in the magic as it carried out its intent would only make things worse at this point.
As weak and exhausted as she was the purple mare seemed to brighten momentarily at the thought of managing to confound her teacher. “It’s not a shield spell. It’s an intension-keyed, protection ward. Sombra will never be able to cross the boundaries of the Crystal Empire. The spell here, the trap around the Crystal Heart, is based off the same one Sombra placed on the Crystal Empire. I, I modified the components.” Twilight paused for a moment and tried to figure out the best way to phrase the rest of her explanation. “A willing sacrifice will always be more powerful than any number of innocent lives forcibly taken. This should stand for three thousand years if I’ve done the math correctly—I was in a rush so give or take fifteen years. Still, not bad for less than an hour’s work, right?”
“Twilight you—” Celestia trailed off unable to continue, stunned by the sheer magnitude of talent her student had displayed.
“Too bad I didn’t have time to write a paper; this is Noble Steed Prize winning material.” There was a brief lull in the conversation before something occurred to the mare. “Maybe they’ll make a posthumous exception.” Twilight winced as she felt the spell begin to consume her magic. If her calculations were correct her reservoir of innate magic would go first, then she would burn from the inside out as every single drop of magic in every single cell would be used to feed the shield. There was no way of knowing how long she had. “Princess, I’m sorry but I guess I’m not going to make it after all.”
“That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Twilight Sparkle. You’ve never failed me before and this would be a singularly terrible time to start.”
Twilight laughed, or tried to, but the sound caught in her throat and came out as a rasping cough. She turned away from the princess as much as she dared to move without disrupting the runes and coughed hard enough to spray the ground with what she hoped was spittle. The metallic taste of blood lingered in her mouth. ‘Not saliva then.’ She concluded bleakly.
Soft feathers caressed her mane and straightened her forelock. Twilight closed her eyes and committed the sensation to memory, she wanted to hold onto this feeling. A droplet, cold and wet, landed on the bridge of her nose and startled Twilight’s eyes open once more.
Princess Celestia was crying.
“Princess, are you hurt? Did Sombra—” Even now, pained as she was, the scholarly mare managed to raise concern for her mentor.
“No, my faithful Twilight, I’m not hurt. Sombra can’t hurt anypony here; you’ve seen to that.” Celestia could feel the presence of the moon pressing upon her. Luna had arrived. The alicorn closed her eyes for a moment and ceded the sun’s place in the sky to the moon. Her sister would need every ounce of strength she could muster to fully destroy Sombra. Even as a shade he posed a formidable foe.
“You’re crying.”
Celestia focused all her attention on the bloodied mare before her. She chuckled weakly. “I think you’ll find even a princess is allowed to cry when she grieves.”
Twilight’s purple eyes drifted across her beloved princess’s features. She tried to gather her wits about her to say something, anything, to the mare she had spent most of her life serving. “You said the Crystal Empire is tied to Equestria’s defense, the empire is protected. Now both will be safe.”
‘But what about you!’ Celestia wanted to scream. She wanted to rage at her student for being so noble, for sacrificing the years they could have spent together. She wanted to beg forgiveness for underestimating Sombra’s strength, for making this a test; a game. She wanted a second chance; to turn back time and obliterate Sombra long before he ever had a chance to set the event in motion that would lead to Twilight’s death. She did none of these things.
Instead Celestia favored Twilight Sparkle with a beatific smile, bound and determined not to upset the dying pony any further. “You’re absolutely correct, Twilight. You’ve saved everyone. You seem to have made that a habit these last few years.”
The unicorn sighed deeply, the motion forcing more blood from the runes she’d carved into her own hide. The runes on the floor grew brighter still. “Just following my mentor’s example.” She murmured, the words came out slightly slurred. Twilight had meant them to come out slightly cheeky but she just didn’t have the energy to modulate her tone. It was taking everything she had to stay focused on the princess. She didn’t have long.
“Twilight, there are so many things I still need to tell you. So many things I still have left to teach you. It turns out our time together is shorter than I’d ever imagined.” The memory of Starswirl’s journal cruelly came to the forefront of her mind; she’d had such hope. Celestia shoved the thought away brusquely. “You’ve come such a long, long way and I’ve—” Her voice cracked slightly and she gasped for breath, for air she didn’t really need.
“I love you, Celestia.” Twilight spoke suddenly, her voice filled with urgency.
A cracking noise filled the air and for a wild moment Celestia thought it was the sound of her heart shattering.
An enthused roar of triumph reached the top of the palace spire; it was the sound of hundreds of ponies cheering in celebration. The stomp of approval, of hooves against stone, rang through the air but even that couldn’t drown out the sound of the shield spell breaking apart. The blue, yellow, and pink aurora of the Crystal Empire was forcing its way out; the crystal ponies had managed to activate the Crystal Heart.
Celestia could feel the moon make way for her once more, she didn’t bother to fill the gap—Luna could move the sun if she wanted.
A gold ember distracted her from the shield’s collapse. The princess turned back to Twilight with dread; the unicorn was breaking apart. Her body was burning from the inside out, the bright purple coat had darkened to a near black and the runes etched in her skin glowed a dull red—the effect was not unlike lava cooling. Bit by bit the blackened parts were lighting up a hot red orange and then they would burst into gold embers dancing in the powerful draft coming in through the blown out windows.
She’d looked away for a moment and most of Twilight’s hindquarters had dispersed. “I love you too, Twilight Sparkle.” Celestia blurted suddenly struck by the fear that Twilight would be gone before she got the chance to say it back. “I love you very much. I love you and I’m proud of you—I’ve never been so proud of anypony in my life.”
Twilight’s reddened eyes filled with tears. She tried to smile but she lacked the muscle coordination to do so. That was okay, muscle coordination was more Applejack and Rainbow Dash’s thing anyway.
Sounds filtered in from the corridor—the echoes of dozens of hooves clattering up the spiral staircase. They were close, her friends; her family. Twilight’s serene expression twisted and for a moment she looked as agonized as she felt. “T-tell them I’m sorry.” Her jaws clenched as she tried to spit out the necessary words. “I love them. Tell Spike—tell him I’m sorry I sent him away.”
“Twilight they’ll be here soon, you can tell them.” Celestia could tell the group was close, less than a minute away.
“The spell is stable now. C-can you—would you—” Twilight couldn’t make herself finish the sentence.
“What do you need, Twilight?” Most of the mare’s form had destabilized. She was little more than a talking cloud of embers with a mane and horn now.
“Can I watch you raise the sun one last time?” After all that was where everything had started, wasn’t it? A small filly had watched a beautiful princess raise the sun and she’d decided that she wanted to dedicate her life to magic. It had an appealing symmetry about it. And if there was one thing Twilight Sparkle was fond of it was symmetry.
Celestia rose to her hooves and planted a gently kiss on the tip of Twilight’s horn, the only stable part of the unicorn’s body left. “Of course.”
Eight ponies and one baby dragon turned the corner only to be blinded by Celestia’s light. When the glory of the sun dissipated the solar diarch stood alone in the room surrounded by a shower of glowing golden embers.
The princess made no move to turn and face the others. She stood at what was once a window and stared at the famed aurora of the Crystal Empire, a sight which hadn’t been witnessed by Equestrians in more than a thousand years. The dusky rose streak was a new addition; one Celestia guessed would be there for the next three thousand years.
Give or take fifteen years.
She didn’t need to turn around to know what was happening behind her.
Spike leapt down from Rarity’s back and approached the spot he’d last seen the closest thing he had to a mother. His green eyes welled up with tears that he couldn’t blink away.
“Spike,” That was Rarity’s voice, tremulous but dignified. She didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t know how to end it.
The baby dragon sank to his knees and touched the runes Twilight had etched into the stone. No longer red with blood the runes blazed with the gold ichor of the gods.
Three thousand years.
Give or take fifteen years.
Celestia turned to face the young dragon. Purple eyes met green and Spike began to sob openly. “Sh-sh-she made me l-leave. I didn’t want to. I didn’t—she promised sh-she’d never send me away.”
Shining Armor staggered forward and knelt at the dragon’s side. With a quivering foreleg he drew Spike close and let the youngling cry into his neck. “She promised!” Cadence joined the two males and embraced them as best she could with her wings.
Celestia stared.
Twilight’s friends began to cluster together, some were crying and some were trying to be strong for the others. Their despair was palpable.
Celestia watched.
Luna approached her sister carefully. Her own sorrow meted out by concern for Celestia. Hesitantly she stretched a wing over her sister’s back.
Princess Celestia wept.
