60 Years Later

Twilight sat pouring over an old tome, many of it's pages blank and waiting to be lovingly dressed with the careful dancing of an inked quill over it's parchment. The only problem was that she was having much trouble creating the words she wished to craft.

“Hmm... where to begin...” she pondered, “Ah! Yes!”

She lowered her quill to the paper, and began to write.

Concerning Ponies

Ponies, living and farming in the lush, fertile lands of Equestria for many thousands of years. Quite content to ignore and be ignored by the universe of the larger folk. The universe being, after all, full of strange creatures by the count. Ponies must seem of little importance. Being neither renowned as great warriors, nor counted among the very wise.

Twilight chuckled at this last line, before a knocking sound interrupted her thoughts.

“Pumpkin! There's someone at the door!” she called out before returning to her page.

In fact, it has been remarked by some that Ponies' only real passion is for friends and to live in the comfort of one another. A rather unfair observation, but not an entirely inaccurate one. But where our hearts truly lie, is in peace and quiet. And good, tender earth. For all ponies share a love of things that grow. And yes, no doubt to others, our ways seem quaint. But today of all days is it brought home to me that it is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life.

The knocking came again.

“Pumpkin! The door!”

Again, with the knocking.

“Oh sweet Celestia,” she grumled, looking around her, “Where is that girl?”

Pumpkin Cake's hooves made a steady clopping sound along the stone of Canterlot's cemetery, the eerie wind making her coat tremble. Canterot's winters had gotten far more bitter since that fateful day over 60 years ago. Speaking of that day, Pumpkin stopped as she passed the grave of Fluttershy. While only two of the Elements of Harmony were still alive at this point, Fluttershy had met her end far too quickly and far too suddenly. Much like Pinkie Pie, she had not made it to her middle ages.

Bowing her head in respect, Pumpkin's aging hooves carried her away from the lonely headstone and out the front gate of the cemetery. Upon reaching the street, she saw a few little fillies fleeing in panic, screaming something about a towering monster striding through the city. Unlike the young fillies, however, Pumpkin's eyes shot open and took off in the direction they were fleeing from.

In that single moment of realization, she had remembered that it had been exactly 60 years since that day. 60 years... she was returning.

Her hopes were confirmed when she reached the main square of Canterlot and found a hooded figure clad in a green cloak, robes and armor. Taller than anything nearby and standing upon to legs.

“You're late,” Pumpkin Cake replied.

The figure turned to her and lowered her hood. Her dark red hair standing out from her scarred face.

“A Val'Kyr is never late, Pumpkin Cake,” Ascentia Kortai replied, “Nor is she early. She arrives precisely when she means to.”

The two exchanged a harsh glare for a moment, before flipping to laughing at eachother.

“It's wonderful to see you, Ascentia!” Pumpkin Cake replied, leaping into Ascentia's arms and hugging her tightly.

Ascentia gently squeezed the small mare in her arms, “You didn't think I'd miss the party Twilight is planning for Celestia, did you?”

Pumpkin Cake nodded and jumped down from Ascentia's arms, leading her through the city toward Twilght's home.

“So how is the old woman?” Ascentia asked, “I hear it is going to be a party of special magnificence.”

“Well you know Twilight,” Pumpkin Cake replied, “She's got the whole place in an uproar.”

Ascentia chuckled, “Well that should please her.”

“Half of Equestria's been invited,” Pumpkin continued, “And the rest of them are turning up anyway.”

And so life in Equestria goes on. Much as it's done this past half Century. Full of it's own comings and goings. With change coming slowly. If it even comes at all. But things are made to endure in Equestria, passing from one generation to the next. There's always been a Sparkle living in this house, east of the Castle. And there always will be.

“I'll tell you the truth,” Pumpkin Cake said, “Twilight's been a bit odd lately. More than usual. She's taken to locking herself in her study. She spends hours and hours pouring over old maps when she thinks I'm not looking.”

Ascentia looked down at the small unicorn in concern.

“She's up to something...”

Pumpkin noticed Ascentia looking at her.

“Alright then, keep your secrets. But I know you had something to do with it.”

“What makes you think it was me?”

“Before you came along, this place was very well thought of. The closest thing we had to a catastrophe was a Draconequus fiddling with gravity.”

If you're referring to the incident with Athena,” Ascentia replied, “I was barely involved. All I did was give your Master a little nudge out of the door.”

Pumpkin smirked at Ascentia's poor attempt at covering her obvious tracks, “Whatever you did, you've been officially labeled a disturber of the peace.”

As they reached the top of the hill leading to Twilight's home, Pumpkin Cake gave Ascentia one last hug.

“Ascentia, I'm glad you're back.”

“So am I, dear girl,” Ascentia replied with a smile, hugging her in return, “So am I.”

Pumpkin Cake left in the opposite direction while Ascentia approached the door to Twilight's home, knocking three times upon the wood.

“NO THANK YOU!” came an irritated shout from inside, “I DON'T WANT ANY MORE VISITORS, WELL WISHERS, OR DISTANT RELATIONS!”

“And what about very old friends?” Ascentia shouted back with a smile through the door.

The door was quickly wrenched open and a furious Twilight Sparkle started looking around for whoever was disturbing her planning. But her eyes met a draping of green material that smelled faintly of ice and arctic wind, and she slowly lifted her eyes upward, to the scarred face she knew all too well.

“Ascentia?” she said, almost not believing what she saw.

“Twilight Sparkle,” Ascentia said with a warm smile, kneeling down in front of her.

“My dear Ascentia!” Twilight said again, weakly as she threw her forelegs and wings around Ascentia's neck.

“Look at you. One hundred and six years old. Who would believe it,” she pulled back to get a good look at her, “You haven't aged a day.”

Twilight cast a quick glance to the feathered limbs at her sides, before directing another wide smile to the Val'Kyr, “Well come on, come in!”