[PR] Inconsistencies In Incantations III

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                                                   Glory fades

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>Rain pelted against the windows of Golden Oaks Library as the winds shook the tree to its foundations.

>For weeks on end, Ponyville had been enjoying day after day of glorious spring sunlight.

>Ice-cream vendors had seldom seen such vibrant days as parents were robbed of their hard-earned bits by hungry fillies and colts.

>The smiles on their faces had been more than worth it, though.

>Many ponies made good use of the beautiful weather to enjoy their free time in the park, or by the lake.

>The warmth and the light cast forth by the sun not only nurtured the plants, as well as it nurtured the ponies that basked in its magnificence.

>With spring, the world renewed itself. The ponies who lived in that world did so too.

>With the exception of one. One that could not grow along with the world. Not anymore.

>She chose to stay behind, in the cold of winter.

>In days were light was scarce. Days where she could hide herself in cloaks and shadows.

>Were it shimmering rays of sun or a maelstrom of water that collided with the window of her bedroom, Twilight Sparkle cared not.

>She stared out the window with a gaze so vacant, she did not know whether there was a world in front of her.

>And she could not say she cared for that, either.

>She had always been a studious mare and lately, she found herself lost in her own mind more than anything else.

>Were it not for Spike taking care of her, telling her to eat and sleep, she doubted that she would ever leave this place.

>There was so much to think about. An entire lifetime worth of it, and then some.

>Twilight dawned upon the world as Twilight watched two droplets of water slide down along her window.

>She had always been fond of the name her parents had given her.

>Twilight. The transition from light to dark, and then back around.

>The two raindrops raced each other down the window in scraggly lines, colliding with other droplets, only to grow larger and faster upon impact.

>The embodiment of ambivalence. Twilight was the decision between a two-fold.

>Does the sun make way for the night? Shall the night allow the day to retake its position afterwards?

>The left bead had collided with the edge of the window frame first, shattering apart upon impact, leaving nothing behind to prove it had ever existed.

>Twilight decided that.

>In her life, Twilight had made many decisions.

>Some of which, she took much pride in.

>Twilight had done many a great thing for this world.

>To say that this world would not have grown into what it was nowadays without her was more fact than surmise.

>She had fended off many evils, some greater than others.

>She herself had grown much, and so had the world too grown alongside with her.

>The decisions Twilight had made had helped shape the world into something amazing.

>A place where ponies could feel safe.

>Where they could live in peace and comfort, living life to the fullest.

>And in that, Twilight took great pride.

>Twilight Sparkle had made many great decisions.

>Then one, not-so-great.

>A damp spot tainted the window as Twilight let out a soft sigh, though it could've easily been mistaken for a whimper.

>For all the great she had done for this world, a single thing had come along and ruined it.

>The glass gave off a blurry reflection as the light of day began to die out.

 

>Twilight sat in front of her window, on a cushion that Pinkie Pie had given her as a welcoming gift to Ponyville.

>"I brought something for your tushy," Pinkie had giggled, barely a day after the two mares had met each other.

>At the time, it had annoyed Twilight Sparkle.

>The childish behavior of the pink mare and her obvious lack for any sense of decency.

>Twilight was a mare of strict rules who'd been living most of her life in the same regimen.

>She liked it that way. She knew precisely what the day would bring for her.

>To some, such habits would become boring and make life unexciting.

>The question could be posed, "If every day is a repeat of the last, then why bother with this one?".

>But to Twilight Sparkle, it was the right way to live.

>Every day, she would make a list of how she would spend the next day.

>And the next day, she'd do the exact same thing.

>In structure, she found safety. How one could live without such guidance was nearly incomprehensible to her.

>And Pinkie Pie was that incomprehension given life.

>The mare lived life on a whim, quite literally bouncing from place to place without reason or demand.

>And despite the differences between the two of them, they'd grown to be closer than most ponies ever would in their entire life.

>Through so many adventures, the two had been there for each other.

>And in time, Twilight Sparkle had learned that perhaps there might be more to life than lists and rules.

>There were friends. Celebrations. Sweet nothings to be shared with those closest to her.

 

>Nowadays, she looked back on all the memories she had with the group with uncertainty and hesitation.

>It was an odd thing to her...

>She still knew all the memories of the events that had transpired with her friends.

>But she no longer felt part of them.

>For the first time in hours, she moved to look down on her flanks.

>The six-pointed star still stood there, brilliantly as ever.

>But as she returned her gaze to the window, Twilight did no longer feel any connection to it.

>A cutiemark shows what a pony's special talent is.

>For many, the course of their life becomes decided the moment their flanks become imprinted by their mark.

>Twilight Sparkle had been no exception to that notion.

>When the star had first appeared on her flank in the presence of none other than princess Celestia herself, Twilight had been beyond reasoning.

>In that moment, she could have easily been mistaken for Pinkie Pie as she bounced around the princess, exuberant at finally knowing what life held in store for her.

>Ever since then, she had dedicated every waking moment of her life to becoming the best magician this world had ever seen.

>And in time, she grew to be successful in her endeavors, and more.

>She was not the greatest magician this world had ever seen.

>She was the very embodiment of magic itself. Arcane energy given form.

>She was that.

>What she was supposed to be in current times, however, is a question she could not answer to.

>The mark on her flank still indicated her to be the most talented unicorn to have ever lived.

>But that is not who she was. Not anymore.

>A unicorn without magic is nothing but a shell.

>On the outside, Twilight looked as normal as ever.

>But on the inside, she knew not what to feel.

>There was no magic radiating through her.

>No more energy residing within her, begging to shape and improve the world akin to her views.

>And she wondered whether there was anything at all in her anymore.

>If not for her magic, then who was she?

 

 

>Twilight had always been somewhat of an odd filly, she had no qualms in admitting that nowadays.

>Whereas others had played during recess, Twilight could have been found inside the classroom; making extra homework, reading, or more often than not, bothering her teachers about matters that had been shown during class.

>Some of her teachers found her endearing, content to finally see a filly with such great interest in the matters they taught her.

>Others found her a nuisance, cutting into their free time and keeping them away from their coffee and donuts.

>But on one thing, they all agreed.

>This filly would go into history as one of the greatest minds to have ever lived, alongside with her great idol Starswirl the Bearded.

>Often, during parent's evenings, Twilight Sparkle had to hear of how smart she was, and how far she would make it in life, and how she absolutely had to enroll in Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns.

>At the time, she had not understood why so many praised her for the things she did.

>She read because she enjoyed it.

>She learned because she was interested in knowing how this world had come to be.

>Why that was perceived as such an achievement was something she did not quite understand.

>It had been princess Celestia who had finally managed to explain it to her, years later, as they sat on the princess' bed on a rainy evening.

>"You are a very smart filly, Twilight," the princess had spoken with a kind smile.

>Twilight had always been a very perceptive young mare. A statement like that does not come without a reason.

>She had done nothing to warrant a compliment from the princess herself out of nowhere.

>"But?" she had asked, unconsciously lowering herself to look at the ground in fear of how she had disappointed her mentor.

>The princess had let out a soft sigh as she placed a hoof on Twilight's withers.

>"I fear you will do things a pony very dear to me once did too, Twilight."

>The princess had guided Twilight's eyes to meet her own as she spoke, "Can I ask you something, my faithful student?"

>Twilight had not known how to respond. The princess was asking her for permission.

>The most powerful pony to have ever existed was asking her —a filly barely coming of age— for permission to ask her a question.

>"O-of c-c-course," she had managed to stutter out after more than a minute of awkward silence.

>Celestia smiled as she let go off Twilight.

>"Why don't you want to play with the other fillies here?"

>That had been a question Twilight had not anticipated.

>She had thought the princess had called her to her room because her grades had been failing, or perhaps she had not done enough extra-curricular activities, or maybe the report on the decay of magic over time she had written wasn't detailed enough, or... anything else, really.

>But this question was one that Twilight did not want to answer. It was one that she didn't want to exist in the first place.

>And so, instead, she curled herself into a ball as small as a filly could possibly make of herself, hoping that perhaps the princess would suddenly forget about her.

>At the time, she was truly convinced that if she just tried hard enough the princess would no longer be able to see her.

>She pressed herself against the princess' soft sheets as she felt the hurt sting in her eyes.

>Twilight had hoped that the princess had forgotten about her by now, ashamed of letting her mentor ever see her like this.

>The hoof that stroked over her back quickly broke her conviction of that.

>"What's wrong, Twilight?" the princess had asked as she nuzzled Twilight's tears away.

>The filly pressed herself as deep into the covers of the bed as she could before she sobbed, "I-I'm... scared, Princess."

>Celestia remained as calm as ever as she draped a wing over the shivering form of Twilight.

>"What scares you?" she asked, holding the filly close to her, sharing her warmth with the little ball of misery.

>The filly shivered and let out a whimper into the blankets she so desperately pressed herself against.

>"I... I don't know..."

>The princess found herself cocking her head to that. "How can you be afraid if you—"

>"I don't know how to play."

>Celestia kept quiet as she looked down on the filly so well-spoken, now struggling to find the right words to commit her concerns.

>"T-there's no book... a-and they won't like me. They all think I-I'm stupid and weird anyway."

>Twilight curled herself up even tighter, simply wanting to disappear into nothing.

>Celestia's smile faltered for a moment upon hearing her student's concern, childish as it might appear at first.

>She laid her head against Twilight's and softly blew against her ear, causing it to flick wildly.

>The filly shook her head in annoyance as she muttered into the blankets again, "...S-stop."

>Celestia inhaled deeply, and once more blew against Twilight's ear.

>It flicked to and fro, and what first sounded like a whimper soon became a demure giggle.

>"S-stop. Please..." the little unicorn begged.

>And with a final deep breath, Celestia blew against the filly's ear, sending her into fit of giggles.

>The little horned mare lied writhing on the bed sheets as Celestia continued to blow raspberries over any spot Twilight's hooves couldn't protect.

>A few minutes of this exchange continued before Celestia allowed her student to regain her breath.

>Celestia wiped away the remnants of Twilight's tears as they calmed down.

>"W-why did y-you do that?" the filly panted.

>"Because I don't want you to be sad."

>Celestia lied herself down on the bed so that she was now face to face with the small unicorn.

>Violet eyes stared deep into a magenta pair and soon, a smile spread on both their faces.

>"Have you asked the other fillies if you could play with them?"

>Twilight felt the need to look away, but found that she could not stop staring in her mentor's beautiful eyes.

>They contained so much kindness and such wisdom.

>Twilight hoped that one day she would have eyes like that too.

>"...no."

>"Then ask them tomorrow. I promise you that you'll be glad you did."

>"Are you going to be there too, Princess?"

>Celestia shook her head, much to the dismay of the purple filly.

>"No, Twilight. That is something you will have to do on your own."

>The unicorn found herself once more wanting to look away from the all-knowing alicorn.

>Her gaze lowered just the tiniest bit before she shook her head, steeled herself, and stood up straight.

>She nodded enthusiastically to the princess and even gave her a little salute as she spoke, "I promise I won't disappoint you, Princess."

>The immortal chuckled as she felt her natural smile return to her upon seeing the little filly's enthusiasm.

>"I'm sure that you won't."

>The princess got off the bed and motioned for the filly to come to her.

>"Come on, Twilight. It's time to get you to bed."

>What caused to unicorn to answer in the way that she did was something she had not fully understood at the time.

>Later on, she would come to realize that in that specific moment, she had made one of those decisions that would shape her life and the world in the way it became.

>"Can I sleep with you tonight, Princess?"

>The alicorn's brow raised at the filly's request.

>She knew she had to say no to her. Never before had such a thing occurred in the past.

>It was uncommon and the procedure of the school would not allow for such a thing to happen.

>But when she looked at the little filly, staring so hopefully at her greatest idol there was, she found herself unable to do what had to be done.

>She had seen those eyes before. A very long time ago, another had looked at Celestia with that exact some look of awe etched on her face.

>Celestia's features softened as she retook her position in the bed and patted the spot in front of her with her wing.

>How could she possibly say no to her?

>"Yes," she softly said. "Of course you can, Twilight."

>The filly giggled and with as much enthusiasm as she had shown the first time they'd met, Twilight bounced her way towards the princess.

>She wriggled herself underneath the covers and pressed herself against the warm princess of the sun.

>Soon, a wing draped over her and pulled her even closer to Celestia.

>"Good night, Princess!" Twilight chirped.

>Celestia had to fight back the stinging sensation in her eyes as she relived past days in her mind.

>She placed a soft kiss on the filly's forehead before she closed her eyes, a single tear rolling down her cheeks and staining the pillow as she did so.

>"Good night, my dearest."

>Despite the sadness that ran down her cheeks, Celestia found a warmth she had not felt in almost a thousand years to be welling inside her.

>She once more had somepony to hold under her wing, in so many senses.

>Perhaps, if she could help the little filly make some friends, she too would make one.

>For the first time in nearly a millennium, princess Celestia had attached herself to the world again.

 

>It was then, as she lied nestled against the far larger mare that Twilight knew why her achievements had always been so appraised by her mentors.

>Twilight was smart with books. All the other ponies were smart with each other.

>Twilight never was good at making conversation, except with her teachers, and even then only about what she'd seen in their classes.

>Her tutors often called her more clever than her peers, but now she knew they'd all been wrong.

>She wasn't smarter than the others.

>She was different.

>But now, the princess would make her normal.

 

 

>A branch tapping against the window in front of her brought Twilight out of her reveries.

>She remembered everything about that moment.

>The way the sheets had felt as she had pressed herself against them.

>How the princess had smelled of mayflowers that night.

>The soft, droning sound the rain had made as Twilight lied in the grand bed, snuggled against her greatest idol.

>Shivers rolling down her back as she felt the soft exhales of the princess in her neck.

>Every little thing about that night had been engraved into Twilight's mind.

>Except the fact that she was there.

>Twilight had seen the memory replaying in front of her.

>But she had simply stood there, watching how a frightened filly had worked her way into an immortal's heart.

>She wondered who that filly was and how, somehow, that brave little unicorn had grown into what stared back in the window's reflection in current days.

>Princess Celestia had constantly guided Twilight in every aspect of her life.

>She had taught her things about magic most ponies had never even heard of. She had told her of how the old world really looked, rather than how history books depicted them.

>She even managed to get her to make friends.

>But in one thing, the princess had not helped her.

>And in that one thing, Twilight had managed to destroy that little filly, so intent on never disappointing her princess.

 

 

>"Come on, Twi, it's just one spell!"

>"Yeah, it's only one... if you forgot about the other twenty-five I already did today, Spike."

>"Psshhhh, like you had any trouble with those."

>The unicorn could feel a slight blush working its way on her cheeks. "Well... No, but still—"

>"Come on, Twi," the little dragon groaned. "If you finish your checklist now, I can still make it in time to Rarity's to help her go gem-digging."

>Twilight took a deep breath and steeled herself. "Okay, number twenty-six then. What am I supposed to do?"

>The lizard brought the scroll closer to himself, cocking his head and squinting his eyes at the last spell on the checklist.

>"Trans-mog-ri-fi-ca-tion of a fi-nite object through time," the dragon managed to spell out after multiple re-reads.

>He tapped his scaled feet on the oak floor a few times before shrugging and throwing the scroll away. "I have no idea what I just read. Can I go now?"

>The mare shook her head and dismissively waved her foreleg at the door.

>"Yes, you can go. I need to be focused for this one anyway."

>The dragon already had one foot standing outside when he heard Twilight speak to herself.

>"Hey!" he yelled, unable to shed the offense he took in that statement.

>Once more, his head tilted sideways and he gave a quick shrug. "Eh, guess you're right. See you later, Twi!"

>And at that, the pitter-patter of tiny feet could be heard down the street as a foolish young dragon went to pursue the mare of his dreams.

>Twilight shook her head and floated the scroll towards her as the door fell shut.

>There was a reason she had put this one last on the list.

>Without a doubt was this one of the hardest spells Twilight had ever even considered attempting.

>The components of the spell themselves were manageable.

>Permanent transformations of defined objects was stuff they'd taught in the final years, though Twilight had been experimenting with them much earlier in life.

>Time-travel was restricted for a lucky few, but Twilight could count herself among them.

>But the combination of the two was an entirely different matter.

>The problem lied in the fact that the object that would be transformed would go back in time, to a point where the transformation had yet to occur in the first place.

>To uphold that change would require both enormous amounts of energy, as well as the utmost of concentration.

>But Spike's words had spurred her on. She hadn't encountered a single issue all day long.

>It would be foolish not to make use of that lucky streak.

>"Let's see," she said to herself as she began pacing around in her study. "What's a good object to transform?"

>Twilight looked to her left. Then to her right. In front of her and lastly, down her desk.

>Books. Surrounding her in every single direction.

>Except for the ceiling.

>Maybe she should look into a gravity-defying spell for that someday.

>But for now, a book would do.

>She picked a random one from her shelves and floated it down towards her.

>"—Equestrian mythology: a guide to what lies beyond the eye—"

>Twilight raised an eyebrow as she read the cover of the book aloud.

>This was not one of hers.

>"...Spike must've put you in the wrong place," she muttered.

>A quick shrug followed swiftly. "Oh well, you'll do just as good as any other."

>Twilight levitated the book towards the middle of the room and placed it down onto the floor.

>She pondered for a moment as she walked around the tome, taking in its size and shape.

>Briefly, she pursed her lips before giving a curt nod to herself.

>"I'm going to shrink you in half and send you back to five minutes ago..."

>The unicorn cast a quick glance towards the empty space in her shelves. "...and you should reappear there."

>Twilight briefly ran down the plan again to double-check.

>Satisfied with the results, she placed herself in front of the book and closed her eyes so she could fully concentrate on the spell alone.

>She slowed down her breathing, and before long, she could see the wisps of purple and violet magic in front of her.

>With a soft and gentle humming, they swirled around in the endless realm that only existed within Twilight.

>The princess had taught her that this was where her magic came from. She'd told her how extraordinary it was for a unicorn to possess such extensive amounts of raw magical power.

>And most importantly, she'd taught her how to control it.

>How to temper the apex of her prowess and how to pace herself so she wouldn't lose control like she had done at her entrance exam.

>She reached out to her magic, and it reached out to her as well.

>The warmth and pressure of the maroon cone forming around her horn became noticeable as Twilight began lacing the wisps through each other.

>Static energy crackled in the library as Twilight slowly kept adding more and more energy to the spell.

>A slight shift in the room's atmosphere told her that the first part of the spell had been completed.

>If she could open her eyes, she'd be met by a book now only half its prior size.

>But she needed to uphold the focus on the spell and so, she slowly began to draw more strings of energy towards her, lacing them in the intricate patterns that defined time-travelling spells.

>More and more energy began to shoot out her cone's compression and for the tiniest moment, Twilight felt a sting of panic breach the surface.

>But the princess had taught her the most important thing was to remain calm and collected.

>Twilight drew a slow breath as she began to slow down the feed of power to her horn.

>The crackling continued, but now she felt as if she could control the spell safely again.

>Twilight always had a poor sense of judgement when it came to controlling herself.

>This had been without a doubt been the worst one.

>Barely a second after she had reassured herself of being able to keep her powers in check, she felt the wisps begin to fall loose from the patterns she'd created.

>They began to move through each other, faster and faster. They collided with each other, sending enormous sparks of raw arcane power flying astray.

>She did what the princess had taught her. Keep calm and collected, then slowly draw back the power from the spell.

>The spell itself, however, seemed to have other plans.

>Twilight was calm and collected as the shockwave of a deafening crash sent her flying towards the wall.

>Colliding with the unwavering tree caused her eyes to shoot open in pain as her head slammed against her desk that had become airborne for a little while as well.

>Tears stung in her eyes as she carefully rubbed over the sore spot with a hoof.

>The entire room was nothing short of a battlefield.

>On her right, her entire bookshelf had been wiped clean of every single book by the blow.

>They all lied in a heap in the middle of the room, where a large scorch mark tainted the oaken floor.

>The mare's composure slumped when she looked at all the clean-up work she had in store for her.

>And yet, when she cast her gaze to the left, a wavering smile found its way onto her face.

>A little book stood right where she had anticipated it would be.

>The spell needed refinements, that much was certain, but Twilight couldn't repress a little bit of pride to well up when she saw she could check off number twenty-six from her list.

>A list that currently was buried underneath a roughly-approximated total of around four hundred and thirty-three books.

>Twilight heaved a sigh as she stepped towards the pile of books and manuscripts, all scattered across the room without any order in them whatsoever.

>She had been planning for a re-shelving in a few weeks anyway. Now was as good a time as any.

>The arcane aura around her horn shimmered softly as she lifted the first book she encountered.

>Before she could even begin to read the title, however, her magic fizzled away into nothing as Twilight saw the pile of books shifting and... groaning?

>The atlas she'd floated towards her fell back on the ground with a dull thud.

>"Ughhh, my head..." the heap called out to her.

>A hand burst through the surface and began pushing away the books that laid on top of the remaining body parts.

>Twilight watched the scene unfold in front of her, simply too baffled to form a coherent thought.

>Were it mere seconds or entire hours the creature had needed to free itself from its papery oppressor, she knew not.

>It was only when it finally stood up straight, towering over the unicorn as it doubled her in size, that she snapped back to reality.

>"What the..." they said in unison.

 

 

>An accident.

>The best thing to have ever happened to Twilight had been nothing but an accident.

>An unexpected side-effect of a spell she couldn't control.

>That's all he was.

>She hadn't known what to do, or what to think, for that matter.

>Somehow, Twilight had managed to summon a creature of a species that had never been heard of before.

>There were few things in this world that would ever come to be this important to her.

>At first, he'd been scared. Confused and lost, mostly.

>He never really got rid of that either. He was a very reserved person, much like Twilight herself was, though even worse than she had ever been.

>The first few months were the worst without a doubt. He simply refused to leave the library, in fear of what would await him on the outside.

>And so instead, Twilight had invited her friends to the library one by one to introduce themselves to him.

>It helped. A little.

>He never spent much time with anypony other than her and there would be little change in that.

>But he didn't really needed to, either.

>He trusted Twilight. She had been the first to comfort him and he had attached himself to her for that.

>More than he should have, perhaps.

>To her, he carried wisdom of a foreign culture. His ways were so maddeningly confusing and Twilight had never found herself more interested in anything else.

>Countless hours were spent as he told of the trivialities of his world. She shared her books, her knowledge, and herself with him in return.

>He'd been oddly composed as she told him that she did not know how to send him back home.

>His views on life were very different from Twilight's and she had never found a subject as intriguing as the world he came from

>Or he himself, for that matter.

>And in time, that interest had began to shift into something more.

>Interest had become attraction.

>Though she had not known that herself.

>Twilight had never been very good at dealing with ponies. The princess had helped her a great deal, but it still required effort on her part, unlike all of her friends.

>The emotions that had been welling within her upset her.

>They made no sense and confused her, just like he did.

>As time passed, he grew more comfortable with the world and eventually, he decided to live on his own.

>But despite the fact that they didn't spend all their waking time together anymore, Twilight still could not forget about her wonderfully strange human.

>She had considered writing about her feelings towards him to the princess.

>But in the end, she had known that the princess' words she'd spoken in the past still rang true, now more than ever even.

>This was something she needed to do on her own.

 

>She regretted not writing that letter.

>Things could have been so different if she had.

>The princess would have helped her. She would have made things right.

>She always did.

>But what had happened instead had all been at the result of her own actions.

>The two of them spent so much time together...

>And he did not do that with any other pony...

>She was the one that had brought him into this world...

>There had to be something. A reason that had caused him to appear out of nothing.

>Twilight refused to believe that this was just a matter of chance and coincidence.

>He had to like her back. It made sense. There were so many things pointing towards her suspicions being right.

>Logic demanded that he liked her back.

>She knew that he didn't make sense at times.

>She should have known this was one of those times.

>She should have known he didn't love her.

 

>Twilight always had trouble controlling her powers.

>And when she'd been granted her alicornhood, she couldn't even begin to hold back the energy that surged within her.

>Every time she'd been studying, she'd hear a faint whisper.

>When she looked around, there'd be nopony there.

>She'd go back to her studies, but by the time she'd have finished reading the next paragraph of her book, the whisper would be back, just a little louder than it had been before.

>She tried to ignore them at first. There was nopony there talking to her.

>Her imagination was playing tricks on her.

>She'd just grown accustomed to his company, that's all.

>The whispers became incoherent voices. They'd fill her mind with nonsensical rambling.

>The more she tried to push them away, the louder they'd become.

>Only when she thought of him, they'd turn quiet.

>He was the only thing she could properly focus on.

>And when she did, the voices would softly began to talk to her.

>Her powers called out to her every time she thought of him. They begged to be released.

>They told her how they could change things. How the world could look if she used her full strength.

>They told her they could make him fall in love with her.

 

>She'd been stupid enough to listen.

>Why she had done that was something she could not wrap her head around now that the voices were gone.

>But it didn't matter. Not anymore.

>The harm had been done.

>She lost control and now she would bear the consequences of it.

 

 

>Lightning struck nearby, jolting Twilight out of her memories.

>The flash illuminated the window, and for all but a moment, Twilight got to look at her reflection.

>Her pupils widened under the sudden foray of light and what she saw would be engraved in her mind, clearer than any other memory she would ever hold.

>A unicorn stared at her with a scowl on her face. Twilight had seen her before, but she could not seem to remember where or when.

>She seemed so familiar. It was as if she was looking at somepony she knew, but not quite the same.

>Something about what she saw was not right.

>The unicorn's eyes were so vibrant, radiating with a sparkle of something she couldn't quite place.

>The mare carried herself in a way that beckoned respect. She was the kind of pony to whom others looked up.

>When teachers asked foals what they wanted to be when they grew up, they'd point at that mare and say, "Her. I want to be like her."

>There was something in those eyes that Twilight had seen before, in days long since past.

>Whoever she was, she spared no effort to show her disappointment and contempt for her.

>The lightning died down, and Twilight found herself in her dark room again.

>There was a sharp bolt of pain in her chest, like a pin of ice drilling itself through her heart.

>She lurched towards her desk, but before she could begin to register what had happened, the pain had already subsided into nothing.

>Twilight squinted her eyes shut as she hung above her desk, wondering why she suddenly felt so cold.

 

>"Twi?"

>Three short knocks could be heard on the door. "Are you ready yet?"

>In the distance, she heard the rumble of thunder and shattering.

>Twilight blinked and looked down.

>A blank piece of parchment stared back at her.

>"Twilight?" a voice came from behind her. "Are you done?"

>"Done with what?" she heard herself ask.

>The dragon walked up to his surrogate mother and placed a claw on her withers.

>Soft and kindly, he spoke, "Your letter, Twi. Is it ready?"

>The unicorn blinked as she began staring out the window again. "What are you talking about?"

>The mare stared into her reflection as she quietly began to rock to and fro on her cushion.

>The dragon's brow furrowed as he watched Twilight in bewilderment.

>"Your letter for the princesses. About what you learned this week."

>The unicorn shook her head as she watched the rain fell. "I didn't learn anything this week."

>Panic began to eat away at Spike's nerves at the mare's apathetic response.

>"Come on, Twilight, this isn't funny! The princesses said they'd take you away if you didn't write them once a week!"

>The unicorn kept staring out the window, as if she hadn't even heard Spike's pleas in the first place.

>Despite the ruckus going on next to her, she found her attention drawn to the reflection in front of her.

>She leaned in a bit closer to it, only to distance herself away from the image in the glass immediately after.

>"Twilight! Stop playing games! You need to write your letter today!"

>She simply kept rocking back and forth on her cushion, staring intently at the window in front of her.

>Tears stung in the reptile's eyes as he roughly began to shake Twilight sideways. "This isn't funny, Twilight! You gotta write your letter or they'll take you away!"

>For the first time since she'd been stripped of her title, Spike saw something that he'd thought to be lost to the past.

>No longer did Twilight lifelessly stare out in front of her, waiting to be fed and taken care of by him.

>She squinted her eyes, and she bore an expression that seemed to linger between doubt, distrust and an odd sense of amused confusion.

>The mare smiled, then frowned. She cocked her head, then leaned back, almost as if she were confused that the reflection in the window mirrored her motions.

>And then, the adolescent dragon could see the unicorn's lips begin to move.

>He wearily blinked a few times before wiping away his worries.

>Twilight resumed rocking back and forth, and as Spike leaned closer to her, he could hear her quietly talk to herself.

>"D-did you m-m-miss me... Y-yes... "

>The dragon shook his head. He'd heard her talk to herself like this before.

>Sometimes, when she was staying up late to study, he could hear her talk to herself.

>He felt his heart sink, seeing the unicorn fall back into her old habits.

>What she'd done was something the princesses had been vague about, but he knew what would happen if she didn't send them her letter in time.

>"You can't do this to me, Twilight. You were doing so well! Don't you remember last week's lesso—"

>The unicorn snapped her head sideways and looked at Spike with a scornful grimace, bringing herself to mere inches from his face.

>Though the dragon had been scolded a few times in the past, he could not say he had ever seen the unicorn's expression contorted into something like what stared at him right now.

>The shivers of fright rolling down his back told him he should've tried to keep things like that.

>"Lies! They're just...I-I make...make little lies and t-then I pull them apart."

>In just the blink of an eye, Twilight had returned her gaze to the window, quietly bobbing back and forth with a grand smile on her face.

>Spike stared at her, scared and confused as the mare began talking to herself again, her breathing quickening as her chest began to rise and fall in rushed strokes.

>"...think s-sssomething dark's living down in my heart." She nodded to herself in the window.

>Spike felt weak in his knees, trembling as his vision began to blur once more.

>"It'll... y-y-yes...missed you t-too..." she muttered in between labored breaths

>"Please, please don't do this to me." He wrapped himself around her in a tight hug as he begged, "Please don't leave me alone."

>"Everything is going to be f-ffiiine, Spike. I'm going to fix it all."

>Spike clung tightly to the mare who'd been there for him as long as he could remember. He pressed himself against her warm coat, holding on to her until somepony would come to tear them apart.

>Until then, he smiled as tears run down his cheeks.

>Until then, he'd just pretend everything was as it used to be.

>Nothing had happened at all.

>He was just hugging Twilight because that's what they did.

>They hugged each other. And they laughed together.

>And they loved each other.

>Nothing had happened to her at all.

 

>Twilight stared out her window, through the rain and past the broken glass, down into the alley with the broken chair.

>She saw what she had caused. What she'd tried to share, and to what it had lead.

>The princess had tried to make her normal.

>Certain things just were never meant to be.

>She stared at her reflection and saw a sparkle appear in those eyes.

>Maybe it was the first star of the night that appeared in the sky.

>Or maybe, she'd try one more time.

>In the past, Twilight had made many decisions.

>And with those decisions came promises.

>She'd promised to herself and to the princess that she'd keep this world safe.

>She had disappointed her princess so.

>That night, Twilight Sparkle would save the world of a monster one more time.

 

 

 

                                *       *       *       *       *       *       *

                                                The Words Unspoken

                                *       *       *       *       *       *       *

 

>Wet. Why is rain always so godforsaken wet?

>You ponder upon this as the shops and streetlights pass you by in a blur.

>Well, you're not pondering upon it as much as you're muttering it under your breath...

>Rain hits you in the face and you squint your eyes, trying to block out as much of the moisture as you can.

>Holding your jacket over your head as well as it's willing, you run through the empty streets.

>It's a good thing that you've been living here for a while now because every single corner you take seems to lead you into the same street time and time again.

>It's just that nobody bothered to give their shop a nice, bright color in here. Those who lived here knew where they could buy their food and supplies.

>Whether the store they bought it from was white, yellow, or as grey as they were now, they couldn't care less.

>As long as stuff was cheap, they wouldn't speak up. And neither would you.

>You hear a splash and before it even begins to register, you already know what just happened.

"Fucking—"

>Chills roll down your back as the cold creeps up on your leg.

>Your shoe sogs more and more with every passing moment and a squelching noise accompanies every step of your right foot.

>With one foot and half of your pants already being soaked, you just give up.

>You stop running and for a moment, just stand there, trying to catch your breath.

>It'd be nice to just take shelter somewhere until the rain stopped but it seemed as if all shops had already closed for the day.

>Then again, you did a fair bit of overtime to make up for all the extra work they'd dumped on your desk the last minute.

>You shake your head, muttering more profanities as you begin walking home, letting the rain soak you where it hadn't already.

>As far as you knew, it wasn't supposed to rain for another two weeks.

>Though weather in Fillydelphia wasn't always as trustworthy as it was in Ponyville.

>Bigger cities call for stricter organization.

>Stricter organization calls for more overseers.

>More overseers call for more budget.

>And that's where you hit the root of the problem.

>It certainly wouldn't be the first time you got a thunderstorm meant for another part of town on your head.

>Just your luck, you suppose.

>Your apartment block looms behind the corner, just like a dozen others.

>They stand there as big, grey boxes, all neatly spaced from one another.

>Like ugly growths in strict rows, featureless buildings for those who wish to have a roof over their head.

>You should feel lucky you still have that.

>Many others here can't say the same.

>Sometimes, you pass them by as you come home from work really late.

>They always ask you for something.

>Most of them smiled when you give them some food you had left.

>Others got mad, looking for other substances, before realizing you were over twice their size.

>You've grown used to this part of town by now.

>If anything, you've learned to adapt quickly to new surroundings...

>Though, when you were traveling, you passed through the other side of town as well.

>Where the streets were smooth and the plants all grew in perfectly straight lines.

>The houses with their gardens where families lived together.

>It was the side of town where it hardly ever rained.

>You would like to go there again, someday. Once you had some money saved up, you might travel again.

>There's nothing keeping you rooted in one place.

>You just needed some money first, that's all.

>Then you'd get away again.

>The insides of the apartments are all the same.

>All equally grey and bleak. They're afraid to get noticed.

>Just like their inhabitants.

>You walk up the stairs. The elevator hasn't worked in months.

>Why should you complain? You had legs.

>It's not worth the effort.

>Some pony in the hallway looks up at you and nods his head.

>You return the simple gesture.

>Something inside you would like to have a conversation with him.

>Apart from your usual shopping, you don't really speak much.

>Talking to yourself is just weird, and your colleagues aren't that big on talking.

>They grunt as they hang over their desks and tend to their paperwork.

>You're not that different.

>You're a little more bent over than they are. That's about it.

>But you don't know his name.

>You never knew any of their names. That wasn't worth the effort, either.

>Most ponies could only pay their rent for a month or two. Then a new one would show up. They all look the same.

>That's Fillydelphia, you guess.

>A city so swarmed even a six foot tall alien doesn't stick out in a crowd.

>Maybe that's why you came here. But you'd go away again soon.

>Just need to earn some money so you could go back to the open roads.

>The key doesn't quite match the door.

>There's this little flick of the wrist you need to get it in.

>You wonder how ponies did that with their hooves.

>Maybe their keys fitted better. Maybe they were home here.

>It's cold inside. Even colder than it is outside.

>But it's dry. That makes you happy for now.

>You throw your bag in a corner. It lies there, crumpled and abandoned, until you'd come pick it up again tomorrow morning.

>You work your way out of your shoes. Your socks come off as well.

>On bare feet, you stride towards the bathroom.

>If you were lucky, there might be some hot water left.

>You could really use a warm shower right now.

 

>Luck just doesn't like you today.

>The water is cold as it strikes your skin.

>You wince at first, but with a sigh, you just begin scrubbing. They might not be nice, but you grow used to cold showers.

>They make you feel clean too. It's just not very relaxing.

>You rinse the soap out of your hair.

>At least work was done for today. Now you could put on some dry clothes, eat a little and read some.

>Most of your nights looked like that. Except Fridays, then you'd get a beer or two.

>You really shouldn't be blowing your money on stuff like that, but you don't think you could go without them anymore.

>They made you feel normal.

>Because that's what's normal people do on Fridays.

>They go to the bar with their friends and they have a drink.

>You did that, too. As well as you could.

>Soon, you'd be out and about again.

>You've seen a folder about some place called "Apploosa" or something.

>That sounded like someplace you'd like. All the way down south.

>Train tickets aren't cheap, though.

>But if the cider there was anything like the folder said, you didn't mind working a few hours late to save for that ticket.

 

>You turn off the faucet, halting the stream of cold water beating down on you.

>Water bills aren't cheap, either.

>The air strikes against your bare chest as you leave the shower.

>You know it should feel cold, but compared to the water dripping off you, it's quite pleasant.

>A brief smile finds its way towards you.

>You walk back through the apartment with a towel securely wrapped around your waist.

>The buzzing of the lights overhead goes really well together with the rain tinkling against the large, full-length window of the room.

>For a moment, you pause and stare out the window.

>You never really understood why they made those small balconies.

>What's there to look at here?

>Everything looks the same.

 

>Besides your bed stands a closet.

>You only have two pairs of clothes. The ones you wore when you left and a pair you got made in Trottingham.

>The rest still lies in Ponyville.

>They'd stay there too. You're not going back there.

>The emptiness of the closet as you dress yourself mocks you, reminding you of things you don't have.

>But you're dry. And you're warm.

>That's good enough for you.

>You're not lying out there in the streets, begging for help, like those others.

>As you step back into the central room, you hear a buzzing, followed by a sudden bang.

>Then you're left in the dark.

>Above you, the lights have died.

>The central fuse box downstairs must have flooded again.

>You sigh, cautiously trying to find your way in the dark.

>They'd fix it tomorrow.

>There's no point in complaining.

>No one would come to fix it in this weather.

>You shuffle your way through the dark.

>Only the window provides you with a modicum of light.

>It's not enough.

>Something hits you —or rather, you hit it— and you can't uphold your balance.

>You flail your arms around in a desperate attempt to stay up straight.

>A dull thud sounds through your apartment as you slam your head against the ground.

>The pain is sharp at first, but then... it's not so bad.

>There's something warm. And a fragrance in the room.

>You blink but there's no light. Only the rain.

>Its melody is nice. Your head feels so heavy.

>There's a tingle in your stomach that makes you smile. It's very distinct and you know that you're falling.

>And then everything is silent.

 

>You're lying down.

>Where you are or how you got here is something you need to find out.

>And you begin by opening your eyes and sitting up straight.

>And then you shake. It's not cold here.

>Purple and violet wisps float around you. They always follow you around when she leaves.

>You've walked here a lot. Everything is the same. Wherever you go, it's all the same.

>There's nothing here. Only the dark and Twilight's magic. And you.

>You don't know how she got you back here.

>Air solidifies in your throat and you're choking.

>Your chest heaves as you feel your heart pounding like mad.

>The world spins at nauseating speeds as you look around you.

>You got away. You weren't going back.

>She promised you that you'd never go back here.

>You try to stand up straight.

>Run.

>It's the only word your mind can come up with.

>You know there's nothing to run towards, but you can't stay here.

>Run.

>Your mind repeats itself, commanding you to move.

>But you don't. You can't. The wisps grasp you, pulling you down towards the floor.

>Trashing around every body part that's willing to move, you struggle against your bindings.

>They lash out at you, binding themselves around your arms and legs, pulling you down with more and more as time passes by.

>Then you hear her voice.

>"Hello, Anon."

>She's back. And you're back.

>And it'd all happen again.

>RUN

>Your mind is screaming at you. It knew what would happen if you didn't—

>"Did you miss me?"

>She stands in front of you with a gentle smile on her face.

>It's almost as if she were normal.

>Just a friend, asking another friend a question.

>You want to shake your head, scream at her to let you go, anything to make her go away.

>But her horn glows and you're lying down again.

>The wisps bind you to the floor and it's so cold here without your clothes.

>She looks down on you and cocks her head as she sits herself down on your chest.

>Then she giggles. "Of course I missed you too."

>You want to push her off.

>Your lungs burn as you try to yell at her as loud as you can.

>But you don't move. There's no sound.

>There's only Twilight, sitting on your chest as she talks to herself.

>You try again to break free from your bindings.

>But whether you try to swing your arms or your legs or your back, it all amounts to the same thing.

>Your body doesn't budge in the slightest.

>There's a blush on Twilight's face as she leans in closer to you.

>It's so cold here without your clothes and shivers roll down your back as she kisses you.

>You feel her tongue wriggle around in your mouth.

>It makes you feel sick. You want to spit it out.

>A wave of nausea rolls over you and for a moment, you think you're going to puke.

>You'd bite down if it would it all stop.

>But you don't move. You can't move.

>Your lungs burn as you scream in silence again.

>You pull apart your bindings again, only causing them to pull at you even harder.

>The wisps tighten themselves, burning into your skin.

>The pain is too much to bear, and it only grows stronger as you try to resist.

>Your mind can't uphold, your body long since broken as you fall limp.

>Then the pain fades, only lingering as a remainder of what would happen if you tried to break free again.

>Twilight lies on top of you and you can only close your eyes and turn your head away as you feel her taking you into her mouth.

>It's warm and her tongue feels soft as it glides over you.

>You quietly shake your head as you feel yourself grow in her mouth.

>A breeze rolls over you and causes you to shiver.

>She's sitting on top of you again and there is this look in her eyes that you've come to fear so deeply.

>She used to look at you like that sometimes.

>When the two of you used to read together.

>You'd find her looking at you like that and she'd bury herself deep into her book again each time you did.

>She kisses you again and words leave her lips.

>You can't make out what they are.

>She presses her hips against yours and the only thing that you can do is to turn your head and let it happen.

>You close your eyes, refusing to partake in whatever she had planned.

>You were fully aware of the fact that she could easily force them open, but she didn't seem interested in that.

>There was nothing left for you to do but to wait it out.

>That's what you tried to tell yourself, at least.

>You might have closed your eyes, but all your other senses still worked as they should.

>Even more so now that one of them had opted out.

>She was warm and soft and the way her coat brushed against your skin send shivers rolling down your spine.

>You shivered as she bounced up and down on you.

>Though you knew you could not, that didn't stop you from trying to break free.

>The pain was there, warning you it'd come back if you'd do it again, but you had to.

>Every time she brought herself down on you, there was something deep inside you that pushed just as hard to be freed.

>This was not fair.

>In this entire construct, you had been nothing but a victim.

>You did not deserve any of this. She'd made you lose so much.

>Something inside you knew that. Something inside you would show that to her as well.

>With every gasp she made, you struggled harder. Your body ached against its bindings.

>You needed to be free. This was not right. You wanted to scream.

>Your chest heaved, your lungs burning as they depleted themselves of any oxygen.

>There was a pounding sensation in your head. Metal scraped against each other and the noise drove you insane.

>Your eyes burned, were they closed or not, you could no longer tell.

>She panted and moaned, and there were those voices inside your head.

>Every movement she made set your body on fire. It screamed how wrong this was.

>You wanted to move. You needed to move.

>With all the might you could muster forth, you try to move your arms.

>You know it to be in vain, but you need to fight. She can't win. You can't let her win.

>Thrashing your body in any direction you can think of proves to be pointless.

>She has you pinned down. In here, nothing could harm her. She owned everything.

>She owned you.

>You can't keep this up. Every muscle in your body screams at you to stop.

>And then, you feel it. Your arm just moves the tiniest bit and you can grab something.

>And you see it. There's a bright flash of light and you can move freely again.

>Your hand grips something. You don't know what, but it doesn't matter.

>You swing it at her, pushing her off with all the strength you have left.

>The voices in your head scream, the pounding nearly drives you insane.

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"

>Glass shatters as you free yourself from your oppressor.

"GO AWAY!"

>Air as cold as ice pours down your lungs as you can breathe again.

>Panting, you stand in your living room, watching how the chair you threw through the window falls down into the alley behind the building through stinging eyes.

>In the white sky of lightning, it almost plays itself out in front of you like a movie in slow-motion.

>You're too tired to keep going.

>The ground rushes towards you. Glass breaks through the skin of your hands but it only makes you smile.

>The pain, it's real. She's not here. She'll never be here.

>You can't see through your tears but you know she isn't here.

>It's so cold. Your chest heaves with every breath you take.

>Blood runs down the floor, but it's all you can think about.

>She isn't here. It's not real.

>You swallow. Your throat is still on fire but the pain just makes it real.

>It's not real.

>You stare at the broken window in front of you, its edges ragged and sharp. It calls out to you.

>There's something there. Something in the cold that longs for you.

>Hands dripping in blood, you try to pry yourself up straight.

>You only manage to make yourself fall forward.

>The rain comes in through the broken window, soothing your skin where it strikes you.

>For a while, you just lie there on the floor, letting the rain wash away your blood and your pain.

>It's... real... The pain, all of it...

>No matter how hard you try to convince yourself, you know it is.

>Maybe not this time, but it had been in the past. And who's to say she wouldn't do it again?

>When you left, you wrote you forgave her for what she had done and how you'd both made mistakes.

>You began to wonder whether you made a good decision with that.

>She'd caused you so much harm that your mind just couldn't keep up.

>But now that you were away from her, more and more of these memories were beginning to sink back in.

>There were nightmares. And now these, too.

>Panting, you prop yourself up straight, walking towards the little balcony that now was filled with shards of glass.

>It cracked as you strode on it with bare feet, but you didn't notice. Through weary eyes, you look ahead of you.

>There's a grimace on your face as you overlook the city that had provided a new home for you for the past few months.

>You grip the reeling, sending small trickles of blood running down it as you heave a sigh.

>The rain soaks you and shivers roll down your back.

>Despite all the pain you should be feeling now, your mind just replays the past over and over again.

>Soaked and scared, you look at the world and wonder whether it has a place for you at all.

>There's second bolt of lightning, illuminating your surroundings in sharply contrasting greys, whites and blacks.

>Only then do you notice how cold it is outside.

>You blink and you look down.

>It would be over soon. You'd be going away.

>All the way down south, where it's nice and warm.

>Your grip begins to slack as you peer down over the reeling.

>It could be over soon.

>So many memories that would show up again.

>Each new one would be even worse than the last.

>You see the remnants of your chair laying down in the street, broken and worthless.

>No one would bother to look at it.

>It could all be over so soon.

>So much had happened to you in such a short time.

>Maybe you were a bad person. Maybe you deserved all of this.

>At this point, you no longer knew what good or bad meant.

>Better or worse, however, you could still distinguish.

>And what she had done was without a doubt worse than anything you had ever done.

>You thought that maybe you had caused her to do those things.

>And so, you had set her free.

>But you hadn't done anything at all.

>If only she'd given you the same mercy.

>You blinked and looked down.

>Just a little while longer and you could go. All the way down.

>Certain things can't be forgotten.

>It could all be over so soon.

>Certain things just aren't meant to be forgiven.

>You still had one more trip to make.

 

 

 

                                *       *       *       *       *       *       *

                                                Reflection Eternal

                                *       *       *       *       *       *       *

                               

>Amid the capital of Equestria, hanging by the cliffside of the kingdom's largest mountain, stood a castle.

>It had been built by ponies of all three tribes, a long time ago. They'd all worked together to build a place where ponies could find shelter from the devastation that had been wrought onto the world.

>Around it, a city had been built. Around that city, a kingdom had grown.

>Canterlot had grown into a city of pure beauty, displaying its wealth for all to see.

>Each morning, when the sun arose from the depths it had been hiding in at night, the castle could be seen from all around the kingdom as the sun crept up from behind the mountain.

>The earliest rays of sunlight always found their first collision with a series of artwork in stained glass.

>Rays of blues, greens, bright pinks and golden yellows would fall into the castle, casting a brilliant display on the walls inside.

 

>The throne room of Canterlot Castle has always been known as a warm and inviting place.

>Whomever it was that entered it, they'd immediately feel a sense of welcoming descend on them.

>The walls were painted in a white as bright as the alicorn that resided in the chambers throughout the day, and yet, it was not a burden on the eyes.

>Instead, it felt as a comforting embrace of light and warmth.

>The entire room radiated with safety. Inside, nopony could be harmed.

>In the perimeter delimited by the white walls, the princess' protection would be upon them.

>No matter earthpony, pegasus, or unicorn, Celestia cared for them all the same.

>She loved her subjects dearly, and equally.

>And as such, she could not say she liked her time spent in the throne room.

>It demanded her to sit on a pedestal, made several hundred years ago.

>From her throne, she would have to look down on her subjects as they came to her court, voicing their concerns and asking their wise princess for advice.

>Princess Celestia would much prefer to hold court elsewhere.

>Where she and her ponies would sit around a table as true equals, discussing the matters of the kingdom above a nice cup of tea.

>But in time, expectations were formed. Expectations imposed on those whom could bear them.

>The princesses were wise and capable. They looked down on Equestria and saw what needed to be changed.

>The world complied to their vision, for they knew far more than any other in this world would ever know.

>Or that is how they were seen, at least.

>And truth be told, for the longest time princess Celestia had thought those notions to be true.

 

>Court for the day had ended hours ago, but still she sat atop her throne.

>The marble pressing against her frame was cold and uncomfortable, but she remained seated none the less.

>Much like the iron bars of a prison, the marble formed the cold confines of a cell in which the princess was locked.

>She looked at the grand double doors in front of her and heaved a sigh.

>It wouldn't come.

 

 

>There was a time where things had been very different from the way they were now.

>A time in which ponykind had barely laid out the foundations for a society.

>The alicorns had never cared much for the division of the three tribes. They did not partake in the world as the ponies did.

>Much like mere bystanders, they gazed upon the world from afar.

>They saw the hardships the tribes had to face and endure, but it was not of concern to their kind.

>The alicorns did not require the help of the unicorns to raise the sun, for they had their own warmth radiating within them as raw magic.

>They did not need the pegasi to temper the weather. Their wings could lift them far above where the clouds could reach them.

>They required no food from the earthponies for they required no nourishment in the first place.

>Though Celestia herself enjoyed a treat every once in a while, it was nothing more than that either. A treat. Excessive and unnecessary, no matter how much she enjoyed them.

>Eternity did not allow the alicorns to whither or decay.

>And so, the immortals had not intermingled with neither the division, nor the unison of the three tribes.

>They had watched from a distance as the threefold had built cities where they all lived together in peace.

>Though her elders told her not to care for them, Celestia still felt content to see that things had finally worked out for the simple ponies.

>It finally seemed as if they could truly start living, having worked past their differences and learning to share their knowledge and strength with one another.

>And for a few hundred years, it seemed as if she was right.

>Ponies lived together, sharing what they had to give to the world, then passed away to be forgotten.

>And a new generation would be right there, eagerly waiting to do the same thing.

>Celestia saw much repetition in the little ponies' behavior.

>The lessons those ponies shared with their children were being passed on to their grandchildren and their grand-grandchildren.

>Many ponies thought to view the world in a perspective no other pony had ever possessed.

>Celestia idly stood by, knowing full well how wrong they were.

>She spent more time among the simple ponies than her kind liked to see, but allowed it to her nonetheless, seeing as how she did not partake in their habits.

>She walked among them, but was not part of them.

>As long as Celestia could keep pretending, her elders wouldn't take her little excursions away from her.

 

>Things were different in those days.

>Simpler, Celestia liked to think. Nicer, too.

>The world was not a complicated place.

>Ponies lived. Ponies died. Ponies became forgotten.

>Sometimes, she'd enjoy a little snack.

>That was about it.

>There were no expectations she needed to live up to.

>Life was a blessing. One that would not end anytime soon for Celestia.

>And then he had come along to ruin the beautiful construct they'd upheld for so long now.

>Not even her elders knew what Discord was, much less where it came from.

>They knew —or had a vague idea, at least— of the powers he possessed.

>But still, they refused to partake in the world. They claimed he had just as much right to this world than they did.

>When he began to inflict harm upon the simple ponies, however, Celestia no longer could idly stand by.

>She had ran towards the battle, towards her little ponies, refusing to let them suffer at what madness he brought.

>Her sister, too, had followed her into battle. Though she spent far less time among the ponies, simply tagging along with Celestia for the odd trip or two, she would not allow harm to come to her sister.

>And if that meant she would save a civilization from extinction, so be it then.

>Their kind was outraged and disgusted at the young alicorns' behavior.

>Should they ever have attempted to come back, exile is what would have awaited them.

>The alicorns stood above the incapable ponies. To interfere with them was a sin for their superior kind.

>Celestia had already been walking a thin line by spending so much time in their proximity.

>Now, the elder alicorns knew they had been far too lenient with her.

 

>It wouldn't take the elders long to come to regret their ways of living.

>They had allowed the Creature of Chaos to roam this world, and now, it would rid itself of its hosts.

>The alicorns had always been a kind of peace. Apathy, to be more truthful.

>When he had come for them, they had been proven to be nearly defenseless, despite the extents of their powers.

>It was a creature of madness, defying any appeal to reason.

>In that madness, the alicorns would come to face their extinction.

>Discord did not know of the laws of their world, much less did he care for them.

>At his claws, the immortals would come to die.

 

>In the end, only two remained. They flew atop a city in ruins, protecting what little was left of it.

>With the knowledge of the unicorns, a weapon had been forged that would rid the world of the foul being.

>All hope of ever living peacefully again was placed on Celestia and Luna.

>And of those expectations, they'd never rid themselves again.

 

 

>When Discord had been petrified, and the dust of the battle had slowly descended, Celestia saw what little was left of the beautiful city she had once walked in.

>Debris and rubble were scattered all around her, no matter where she turned to look.

>The alicorn sighed as she felt her sister's wing wrap around her.

>The monster had been slain, but they had failed to protect the simple ponies.

>At first, when she heard the sounds of stones being shifted around, she thought that he had managed to free himself.

>She turned around, her horn shimmering with the power of the sun itself as she swore to make the next move it made to be the last.

>But instead, a small group of ponies with dirt-stained coats and tired eyes that had seen far more misery than they ever should have, stared at her, awe etched on their faces at seeing how much power the alicorn still possessed, even after having saved their world.

>She had been rendered wordless when they all bowed down in front of her, pressing themselves into the dirt and stones as sign of their obedience.

>"What are thou all doing?" she had asked the ponies.

>One of them dared to look up, and after Celestia nodded in encouragement, he stood up straight.

>"You have saved us all from the beast."

>Once more, he lowered his head in respect. "We owe you our lives."

>"But thine city..."

>"Can be rebuild. You have kept us and our children safe. Tell us whatever you want in return and we shall give it to you," the stallion had spoken.

>Celestia had shook her head. "We seek no merit. Thine safety was—   is our only concern."

>The stallion dared to cast his eyes upwards as he gazed at the princess.

>She gave a kind smile as she motioned for the ponies to stand up straight from the dirt.

>"Please," he had begged, "we need your help..."

>"Celestia," she spoke, smiling as she looked at her side, "and this is my sister Luna."

>The stallion stepped forward and lied himself down at their hooves.

>"We beg of you, Celestia and Luna, magnificent alicorns... Protect us."

>She knew not what to think. Neither of them did.

>The stallion lying on the ground in front of them, the ponies cowering together behind him, the foals holding each other close as they stared at the far larger mares in front of them...

>Behind them lay a city in dust, showing that their help had come to late.

>The ponies had attempted to live their lives together in peace, despite their differences.

>None of them saw themselves as 'the superior kind' like the alicorns.

>They knew of their flaws, as well as they knew of their capabilities.

>Now, that unison once more would come to stand on the verge of falling apart as the world needed to rebuild itself.

>Unless...

>Celestia bowed down and held her hoof towards the stallion.

>"Yes," she said. "Of course we shall. My sister and I can assist thou rebuild thine city."

>"Right?" she asked, casting her gaze towards Luna who stood by quietly at her side, much like her kind had desired her to.

>Though hesitant, she nodded in acknowledgement.

>A sigh brushed past her lips before she muttered to herself, "Where else are we to go?

 

>Things had quickly escalated from there on out.

>The ponies had begun rebuilding their cities, constantly seeking advice from the alicorns on a vast amount of subjects.

>They smiled, and answered to the ponies' concerns as well as they could.

>And before long, the ponies were no longer building their cities and their houses. Instead, they had begun to build a castle for their new-found princesses.

>And when the castle had been completed, the ponies had shown the alicorns their thrones. They vowed their complete obedience to the ones that had saved them from the evil spirit.

>Neither Celestia, nor Luna had been very comfortable to be placed among their thrones.

>They guided the ponies with their infinite wisdom, but they no longer wanted to be treated as superiors.

>And yet, that was what the world demanded of them.

>To sit atop a mountain, so that the entire kingdom could look up to its beautiful protectors.

>The sisters had looked at one another and nodded.

>They knew that this was what needed to be done.

>And so, they sat down on their thrones, overlooking their shared kingdom.

>Knowledge that Celestia had learned in ages passed was being shared with the ponies once again.

>The world was growing to be simpler again.

>Ponies lived. Ponies died.

>But no longer were ponies forgotten.

>For the immortal alicorns that sat atop their mountain would carry them in their hearts.

 

 

>Or Celestia would, at least.

>She had been the one who spent so much time among the simple ponies in the first place.

>They knew her far more than they knew Luna, even if Celestia had never even spoken to them.

>At the time, they had been very intimidated to see an alicorn dwell among the confines of a low-life city as theirs.

>Even when Discord had been slain, the ponies came to thank her, seemingly forgetting about her sister.

>And that sentiment knew little change throughout time.

>She always overshadowed her sister, albeit unintentionally. For the longest time, she remained unaware of it even.

>She had failed to notice how Luna had been trying harder and harder to receive more appreciation from her subjects.

>Celestia had thought that she simply wanted to impress her subjects because she cared for them and wanted to show them just how much.

>She should have known better than that.

>Luna had listened to her elders much better than she had ever done. She was reserved and distant, as an alicorn was expected to be.

>She had been taught not to interfere with the other ponies and never bothered to question why.

>Now that she had nowhere else to go, however, she learned that the ponies were not nearly as bad as her elders had taught her.

>At times, they struck her as a bit simple. Their concerns were of such nature as well.

>But in time, Luna grew to appreciate their company. She had been content of the choice she'd made to help her sister and the simple ponies.

>At the time, she had simply done so because there was nothing left for her to return to.

>But in these ponies, she had found a suitable replacement for her family she'd lost.

>An improvement, even.

>She grew to be more vocal, wishing to aid her little ponies in any way she could, hoping that they would see in her the greatness they saw in her sister too.

>But that recognition never came. Every pony in Equestria spoke of how beautiful the wise and kind princess Celestia was.

>Princess Luna, however, had to do with the left-overs. There was the odd pony or two who sent her a gift to thank her for guiding the kingdom, but they paled in comparison to the enormous pile of letters, flowers and candy her sister received on a daily basis.

>She grew annoyed, at first.

>Though, she could still see the ponies' reasoning.

>Celestia had been there with them for a much longer time.

>Luna simply needed to wait for others to see that she too wanted to help improve the world.

>Several generations passed by.

>And Luna still remained to be forgotten, always standing in the shadow of her grander sister.

>As time passed by, her annoyances grew more severe.

>Eventually, envy took its place.

>The castle had been built to thank the princesses for the rescue of the world.

>It was meant to commemorate the braveness the both of them had shown when they went to face the creature.

>To Luna however, the castle seemed more like a pantheon for her sister.

>She became fickle and easily irritated by her sister's actions, regardless of what they were in the first place.

>In the end, she grew malicious.

>She had sacrificed so much for the simple ponies, and they in turn did not even bother to cast a glance at her.

>She knew she risked to be exiled from her kind when she followed her sister into battle, but had deemed that sacrifice worthy of its reward.

>Losing her family was something she thought she had come to terms with in the past.

>But seeing how ungrateful the ponies were of Luna's efforts, she began to miss the ways the elders had taught her.

>She needn't concern herself with petty issues like the ones court brought her daily.

>Ever since Discord had been defeated, the sisters had tried to maintain the world in a more orderly fashion.

>Many ponies had grown fearful at just the mention of the word 'chaos'.

>And so, the unicorns had long since lost the knowledge to tend to the heavenly figures.

>Instead, Celestia tended to the day, as Luna tended to the night skies.

>And as time passed by, fewer and fewer stars belonged to the night, until only a single one remained.

>If the ponies refused to give Luna recognition for what she had done for the world on their own initiative, then she would simply demand it.

 

 

>In the past, there hadn't been a thing Celestia regretted.

>She had lost her elders, but she could not say she cared much for them.

>They were a kind that had closed themselves off from the world, claiming it to be the right way to live.

>Celestia wondered whether they were alive at all.

>And when she had saved the ponies from the chaotic spirit, and they had asked her to keep them safe, she had known that she was right.

>The ponies that came to her gained a place in her heart. Of each and every single one, she held dear memories.

>There had not been a single thing the immortal alicorn regretted.

>Until her own sister had turned against her.

>She had been so entranced by her subjects that she had failed to see the needs of the one standing closest to her.

>Celestia attempted to reason with her. She told her that she too had a place in this kingdom.

>She promised she would try to change things for the better.

>The jet-black alicorn did not bother to listen. She claimed to have seen enough hardships and demanded this world to bow down to her.

>Throwing herself at her sister's hooves, Celestia begged not to make her chose.

>The ponies loved Luna just as much as they loved her, she was certain of that.

>A feeling of dread descended upon her as she pledged she wouldn't usurp all the attention again. Slowly, she began to realize what needed to be done.

>The alicorn of the night spoke of how the ponies wouldn't see the light of the sun ever again.

>Celestia pleaded not to make her to do it. Things didn't have to be like this.

>They'd both lost so much already. There had to be another way. Celestia screamed to stop her madness.

>The nightmare huffed, telling Celestia that she simply could not see the beauty of the construct she'd built.

>Celestia had heard those exact same words in the past. Then she knew for certain that she had but one option.

>As she closed her eyes and looked away, she told Luna to think of what she had become.

>And then she cried as there was only one alicorn left.

 

 

>She had promised to protect the little ponies.

>And if that meant that they needed protection from her sister...

>It was what needed to be done.

>That moment had been the first where Celestia had begun to doubt the decisions she'd made.

>She had promised no harm would ever come to the simple ponies.

>After having banished whatever her sister had turned into, she begun to wonder why she made that promise.

>She had lost so many things, and she was left confused and disheartened when she realized that she received nothing for it in return.

>Was this whom she was meant to be?

>The martyr of eternity? Facing the losses of the world on her own?

>Celestia doubted why she should endure such hardships on her own.

>There had been a time where she feared that she no longer could uphold her position on the throne.

>Every time she'd look to her side, she'd be reminded of the empty seat next to her.

>Thoughts of running away began to linger in her mind.

>And yet, she found herself incapable of abandoning her subjects.

>They were all that she had left, and despite the pain she had faced for their sake, she still loved them all very much.

>Celestia steeled herself. And she led her kingdom on her own.

>The love the ponies were willing to share with her was her reward.

>Whether it equalled the losses she faced was an entirely different matter.

>For nearly a thousand years, she led her kingdom with a smile on her face and words of kindness for those who needed them.

>Except for herself. There was nopony left who could support Celestia like she supported her kingdom.

>Her heart had grown weary and Celestia found herself longing for the open skies more and more with every passing day.

>She knew not how much longer she would be able to uphold rulership over the kingdom, but doubted it to be long.

>Celestia had lost so many things, and after almost a thousand years, she had finally come to realize what she had lost the most.

>She no longer looked at the world as she had done so in times long since passed.

>There used to be a time where she would walk among the cities of the simple ponies. She'd eat one of their treats and listen to their conversations.

>Everything about them used to be new and special to her.

>Her own kind seemed to lack any care for the world, whereas the other ponies found wonder and enjoyment in nearly everything.

>Celestia had hoped that, one day, she too would see the world like that.

>Now, after having faced, conquered, and endured so many challenges, she could only look at the world through tired eyes.

>She wanted to rest.

 

>And then she had met Twilight.

>A little ball of energy, the likes of which Celestia had never seen before.

>What it was about that little filly that struck a cord with Celestia, she couldn't quite say.

>She was extraordinary in so many senses of the word.

>And as Celestia looked at her, she found her thoughts of longing to the open skies to be disappearing.

>For nearly a thousand years, the princess had led her kingdom. Now she saw how hollow it had all felt.

>She had guided their ponies because it was expected of her.

>But the pain in her heart had not vanished. It had simply hid in a corner, awaiting to strike in full force.

>Now that she had found this outstanding little filly, however, the distant aching of her heart seemed to have finally gone away.

>And that one faithful night, when Twilight had asked the princess if she could stay with her for the night, looking at her with such awe, she felt whole again.

>She was princess Celestia: protector of Equestria, alicorn who had faced hardships beyond imagination.

>But for the look on Twilight's face that night, it had all been worth it.

 

 

>There was a soft pressure shifting in the throne room and Celestia knew that somepony was using magic nearby.

>Her suspicions quickly became confirmed as the double doors silently swung open and her sister stepped inside.

>She swallowed, knowing that she could no longer outrun her responsibilities.

>"I've been looking for you."

>Celestia felt a wave of calm washing over her. It would be over soon.

>She faced her hardest challenge yet, but then it would all be over.

>"I've been here all day."

>Luna stepped closer towards her, sitting herself down in front of the throne.

>Celestia looked down on her, wondering why Luna had not simply sat herself beside her.

>"She's not going to send a letter, is she?" the younger alicorn asked.

>Celestia needn't look outside. She had seen the light of the setting sun falling in through the window.

>The day was coming to an end. It should have been here hours ago.

>She shook her head. "No. She won't."

>Luna bowed her head, looking away from her elder sister resting atop her throne.

>"Then we are sorry." Her chest rose and fell slowly as she let a sigh brush past her lips. "But she has broken her promise. Her freedom is—"

>"Why are you sorry, Luna?"

>She looked up at Celestia and cocked her head. She was taken aback, both by being so rudely interrupted by her sister, as well as how she had interrupted her.

>"What does thou mean?"

>"Was my question not clear enough?" she said. "Why are you sorry?"

>Luna looked at her sister, and more specifically, at the clouds that begun to gather outside, blocking out the light of the setting sun.

>The room grew darker as more and more of the sun hid itself. It was a darkness she was not familiar with.

>The shifting atmosphere made her feel uncomfortable, almost as if she was no longer welcome in this room.

>"She was our friend too, sister. We would have much liked to see things go differently, whether you chose to believe me or not."

>Celestia did not respond at first. There was something that she had kept to herself for far too long.

>And now, it began to rear its ugly head.

>For as long as anypony could remember, princess Celestia had always smiled. She had always been kind and forgiving.

>Except for herself.

>Celestia's horn glowed in its magnificent gold and a pile of letters fell on the floor, rolling down from the dais of the throne towards Luna.

>The way she casually tossed them all away unnerved Luna. Her sister always carried herself with such composure.

>What she had done to upset her, she knew not. She merely did her duties as they were expected.

>"Have you read them?" Celestia asked.

>Though she did not sound agitated at all, Luna could not let the little sting, laced in at the end of her question, go by unnoticed.

>It felt more as an accusation than a question. An insult, even.

>"Of course I have!" she defended. "She has been making improvements, small as they are. She sees her wrong-doings, is that not what you wanted?"

>Celestia shook her head. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.

>Luna could hear the soft pattering of rain against the stained glass begin to arise.

>"You don't know her, Luna."

>She could only feel insulted at that.

>The one pony that had given her a chance and Celestia claimed she did not know her?

>Something in Luna wanted to jump upright and yell at her sister how wrong she was.

>Something welled inside her, as she wanted to scream that Twilight had been there for her when she had returned, unlike Celestia herself.

>But there was something in the way Celestia sat atop her throne. The way the light had died out even further in the throne room throughout the conversation.

>Luna kept quiet as slowly, her sister began to show her true colors.

>Worn whites, turning more to a grey without the light of the sun falling in on her.

>The younger alicorn knew not to speak, looking at the way her sister sat on her throne.

>The way she looked as if she were thousands of years old. The way the rain struck the window, as if it felt drawn towards her.

>"These letters are more than words to me."

>Celestia looked down on the pile of parchments and floated one out of them.

>She held it in front of her, looking at it with melancholy etched all over her visage.

>Luna saw her sister blink so slowly, and then she saw how her eyes glistened, even in the dim setting of the throne room.

>Rain began to pelt against the window louder and harder with each passing moment.

>"There used to be a time where I thought I'd never see you again."

>Celestia threw away the scroll she had held in front of her.

>Her mane no longer danced in non-existent waves. Instead, it just clung to her old and worn body.

>Luna felt so uncomfortable. Her sister wasn't smiling.

>The only time she'd ever seen that was when she thought she had lost all the little ponies to Discord.

>"And then I met Twilight."

>For just a moment, it sounded like it had stopped raining.

>But then Luna listened, and she heard nothing at all.

>The entire throne room was clad in grey and in silence.

>It seemed as time was coming to a stop.

>And amid it all sat Celestia.

>Then she heard her sister sigh, and the rain resumed. The room slowly began to breathe again.

>"I couldn't do it, Luna. I couldn't just run the kingdom on my own anymore."

>The solar goddess looked down at her sister.

>"You weren't the only one who was alone. So... I took her under me. It was for the good of the kingdom."

>Celestia's gaze began to falter, looking away from Luna, slowly coming to rest on the pile of letters again.

>"And she was so much like you, Lulu. Too much, maybe."

>Lightning struck outside, and for just a moment, the throne room burned in the brightest of whites.

>The stained glasses, depicting the history of the world under the command of the alicorns, came to live and went beyond that.

>The light burned so bright their colors became forgotten, leaving only the color of the ruler of the sun behind.

>And in the purest of whites, the truth showed itself.

>Decades of lives passing her by had worn down Celestia.

>And in that moment, the oldest being alive truly showed herself as that.

>She was worn out. Her coat no longer shone.

>She was beaten, bested by the world she lived for.

>Defeated, through ages of loss.

>Destroyed by the choices others shrugged off on her so that they would not have to endure them themselves.

>And honest.

>"I wasn't there when you needed me. You were always alone. And she was too."

>Luna wanted to say something, but she found herself at a loss at her sister's words.

>She had told her that Twilight hadn't been a replacement for her.

>And now, for whatever reason it might be, the truth raised to the surface.

>Luna could only think one thing as her sister laid herself bare to her.

>The light began to die out, and so did the room.

>Should she even have come back?

>"And I knew that if she'd stay with me, the same would happen to her. You were just so much alike..."

>There was a silence, only broken by the rain falling outside, as Celestia couldn't hold back her hurt from showing. The rain had finally worked its way inside.

>"So I sent her away. I had to. I couldn't lose somepony that close to me again."

>Through her tears, Celestia smiled as she looked down.

>"But she wrote me, Luna. You might have never come back, and she was gone too. But I still had her letters."

>As briefly as it had appeared, her smile fell and shattered along with her hurt.

>"They used to mean the world to me, and now, they only remind me of what I've lost."

>The princess looked at what lied in front of her as her face fell in a grimace.

>"Why are you sorry? Have you read those letters, Luna? Have your really read them?"

>Not bothering to wait for a response, Celestia looked away from them, disgusted and revolted at what she'd caused.

>"I lost her a long time ago. These letters..."

>She floated the one from last week towards her and read the words her student had forged. She felt nothing.

>Only a hollow nagging grew inside her, the longer she stared at the meaningless lies in front of her.

>"...Her heart isn't in it anymore. And it hasn't been in over a year. I've been lying, trying to convince myself that she was still in there somewhere, that filly I took under my wing... but she's not. And I don't think she'll ever be."

>Luna didn't know what to do, or to say.

>There was the static of the rain in the background, but otherwise the throne room of Canterlot Castle was deadly silent.

>She felt sorry for her sister, wanting to hold her close as she had done the last time she had been so distraught.

>And yet, she felt hurt as well. Betrayed.

>To think that her own sister wanted to replace her. They were the only ones of their kind left, but maybe that didn't mean as much as Luna had thought it did.

>She knew not what to think, what to feel, or what to say. She only knew what to do.

>She would rule her kingdom as her subjects demanded.

>How she and her sister now stood in live was a matter that could wait.

>One that would wait.

>Right now, a criminal needed to be brought to justice.

>"We need to—"

>"Leave me alone."

>Luna blinked, shaking her head in confusion at her sister's abrupt interruption.

>"Sister, we know tha—"

>"I told you to leave me alone, Luna. Just go away."

>She looked up at her sister, her head hung low, as she stared at the bottom of her throne.

>Her hair hid her face from Luna's vision, but she needn't to see her to know what was going through Celestia's mind now.

>She muttered, "We'll go get her later. I just want to be alone right now..."

>Luna shook her head, then turned around.

>With a sharp nod of her horn, the double doors swung open again.

>Maybe it was good for them not to be together right now.

>She strode outside, turning around in the doorway to cast a last glance at her sister.

>She looked into the throne room, watching a mare live through ages of regret as she remembered her own millennium of solitude.

>Distraught and confused, she could only shake her head as she walked away, muttering to herself, "Be careful with what you wish for."

 

 

>The doors fell shut with a minute click and Celestia was alone once again.

>Her gaze fell dormant on the bottom of her throne where several of Twilight's letters still laid strewn around.

>In the past, princess Celestia had seen much repetition in the ponies' behavior.

>Now, she saw it in herself as well.

>She had once more neglected those whom she thought to hold dearest to her.

>Twilight had needed her help and the princess had not been there for her.

>Once, there had been a time where she considered immortality to be a blessing.

>She got to share her knowledge, her wisdom, her kindness, her heart, and herself with many generations to come, just like she had done so with generations passed.

>She had seen many losses, but those who stood closest to her would stay by her side throughout eternity.

>She looked back on the decisions she had made, the decisions Luna had made, and the decisions Twilight had made.

>Eternity once used to hold so much promise in it. Such radiant hopes for a better future.

>Now, princess Celestia had seen the errors of her ways.

>In eternity solely lied regret.

>She should have never said yes. Not to the stallion who begged her for help. Not to Twilight.

>Not to anypony. It had taken Celestia hundreds of years, but now she knew.

>She knew why her elders spoke of the ponies with such disdain.

>To walk among them had changed her.

>She should have listened to the wiser alicorns when she had the chance to.

>Had she done so, none of this would have ever happened.

>Finally, she would do what she knew needed to be done.

>For as long as her kingdom required her to, she would remain seated atop her throne, not granting herself a moment's worth of rest.

>She would aid her subjects in any way they wanted her to.

>Not because she cared for them. She knew now what happened to those whom she cared for.

>She would help them because it was her responsibility. She would help them prosper.

>She would share with them her wisdom and her knowledge.

>But no longer would she share herself with them.

>Now she'd come to see the truth...

>It wasn't worth it.

>She couldn't afford to attach herself to this world. Not to anything.

>It had nearly destroyed her in the past. And it would do so again.

 

>She would go to Twilight and beg.

>Beg her for forgiveness. None of this should have ever happened to her.

>It were the princess' own selfish needs that had caused all of this.

>Celestia could no longer see through her tears.

>She heard of how they fell onto the parchment, staining them and causing the ink to run into meaningless shapes.

>But it didn't matter.

>Once, those letters bound the princess to her ponies. She couldn't afford to keep them.

>The memories would be too painful.

>Twilight's first day in the academy...

>Her magical outburst...

>Celestia smiled and sobbed as she thought of the filly bouncing around her with her new cutiemark.

>Letting her sleep in her bed...

>All those nights spent together; reading, telling stories to each other, falling asleep together, ...

>Twilight's graduation...

>Sending her away to Ponyville...

>The Grand Galloping Gala...

>She should have never have...

>Celestia swallowed and her throat ached as she forced her tears back.

>So many beautiful moments that should have never been.

>Rain clattered against the windows, harder than ever before.

>She wiped her eyes clean with her hoof and she nodded.

>There were so many mistakes she had made throughout her life.

>Now, it was time to fix them.

>She would go to Twilight with her sister. She'd tell her she was sorry. And then she'd beg for forgiveness.

>And then, she would imprison her.

>The princess stood up straight from her throne and in the distance sounded the rumbling of thunder as her heart broke for the last time.

>She steeled herself, knowing what needed to be done.

>She faced her hardest challenge yet, but after that, it'd all be over...

 

 

 

>Luna would be the last pony to have ever seen her sister smile.

>What they had found when they got to the library...

>Luna had broken down. She'd seen many losses in the past, but she just couldn't grasp what had happened.

>Celestia had stood there. Just... standing there, looking at what had happened.

>She didn't smile. She didn't cry.

>She just stood there, looking at the motionless form of her former student.

>Since then, things would never be the same again.

 

 

 

>Rumors had it that a wild dragon had begun living in the Everfree.

>The princesses didn't bother to go look for him.

>Maybe he tried to stop her. Maybe he didn't.

>They didn't know.

>All they knew is that he had ran.

>Away from her. From it all.

>The princesses knew what greed could do to a dragon.

>But losing the one that had raised him from birth...

>They knew it was a lost cause.

>His heart had died and so had Spike himself. It had been his way of coping.

>In his primal nature, he found peace of mind. He let his instincts take over, drowning out any memory of his childhood. He no longer knew her.

>He no longer knew anything other than what he needed to to survive.

>Celestia envied him.

>She, too, wanted to run away from it all.

>But unlike him, she had responsibilities. She'd been put in a position she couldn't leave.

>Celestia hoped that, one day, the ponies would come to see the real her.

>The monster they'd put on a pedestal.

>Once, she had walked among the simple ponies, hoping that she could be one of them.

>Once, she'd sworn to keep them safe, no matter what harm might come to them.

>Once, she had killed one of them.

 

>And if they knew, they might hate her. They might try to chase her away.

>She'd give her subjects what they wanted one last time.

>She'd beat her wings and fly away, soaring high above the skyline of the world.

>She would pump her wings harder and harder, each beat bringing her further away from where she had once lived.

>And when her wings would be too tired to go on, she'd crash to the ground.

>And she'd run. She'd run as hard as she could for as long as she could, until her legs no longer could keep her up straight.

>And then she'd collapse. And maybe...

>Just maybe, then she'd be tired. Too tired to think. Too tired to remember.

>She'd forget.

>Maybe then, she could finally rest...

>But until then, she'd stay seated on her throne, carrying the weight of the world on a broken back.

 

 

 

>Everypony knew something had happened, though few would ever know what.

>But when they looked up at the sky, they'd see it.

>During the day, the sun just didn't shine the same.

>It seemed to hold back, as if it were afraid to shine down on the world.

>They didn't see their princess smile anymore, and the air would be a little colder.

>No longer was there one to carry the torch that warmed the hearts of those who stood underneath.

>And at night, for those few who looked up at the stars, there'd be something wrong too.

>The nights just seemed a little darker.

>They couldn't really say why, but it looked like the moon had this light violet sheen surrounding it.

>It drowned out most other light, almost hiding the stars, like the princess no longer wanted the ponies to look at them.

>Luna wanted them to look at the moon instead.

>She wanted them to look at her dearest friend, so that she would never be forgotten.

>Throughout eternity, she'd be with them, even if only in memory.

>Both Celestia and Luna were not the same. They'd never be, either.

>They only had each other left. And they were both so alone.

>They didn't talk with each other anymore.

>They knew the other was there. And they knew that would always be so.

>There was no need to talk to one another.

>It could always wait for another day.

 

 

 

 

>Atop the largest mountain in Equestria stood a castle.

>Inside, the beautiful princess Celestia sat on her throne.

>And as she watched ponies bow down to her, seeking advice for their concerns, she could only think a single thought.

>She'd see that filly's smile in front of her, and she'd know.

>She'd never forget.

 

>It wasn't worth it.

>It hadn't been worth it.