Epilogue

Dawn in Canterlot was a spellbinding sensation as the first rays of the sun pierced through the Canterhorn peaks, reflecting and sparkling around the tall towers and peaked slate roofs of the city. Ever since Luna’s return, there had been somewhat of a friendly artistic rivalry between Sunrise and Moonrise, and the citizens of Equestria had learned to just enjoy it instead of worrying. Even the most jaded bureaucrats stopped what they were doing to watch the event whenever they could, paused by windows and looking up on their walks to work as the warm sun moved into position for the morning. This sunrise was ever so slightly different than the rest in a subtle fashion, and the morning observers had a pleasant debate on just why there was a faint but noticeable scent of pine and window-cleaning compound in the air this morning.

Unnoticed by the observers were two colorful birds sitting side-by-side on the castle walls, both rather plumped from a night of restaurant visits where patrons and staff had made a game out of feeding Philomena and her companion from their stash of waxy nuts and seeds. It was considered good luck for a restaurant to be visited by Celestia’s pet, and over several centuries, somewhat of a tradition of phoenix-feeding had been started, encouraged by both a greedy bird and the castle staff, who viewed any night of Philomena out of the castle as a much more peaceful night.

The wisp shook himself free from the phoenix, turning towards home with a tugging deep in its chest that felt like lead. As much as it wanted to stay, it was time to go home, and it lifted its wings and threw back its head while willing the cold flesh of its body to return to incandescent starstuff. For a long moment it stood on the castle balustrade, wings out and shimmering with heat.

It was not working. There was not enough fire left in its body to launch itself into the sky and return home. The chilling cold would continue to work into the fleshy body it wore until its fire went out, and it… died.

The wisp had never actually considered dying before. There were always wisps. They never died. It had done so many ‘first’ things as a wisp, and this would be another, even if it would never be able to tell another wisp.

It did not want to die. It wanted to go home with the other wisps and play in the magnetically curved waves of plasma that spun and crashed across the burning sphere. It wanted to tell them all what it had done, what it had learned. It was not fair, and the wisp stretched out its wings again, rising up into the air as fire flickered at the edges of its feathers…

…and extinguished.

As the wisp landed back on the cold stones with a thud, Philomena was there in a heartbeat, sweeping her warm wings around his freezing body. There was not enough fire. The other wisps would not even miss it. The warmth of the sun seemed so feeble at this distance, but another warmth began to fill the wisp as it trembled. Flames ignited across its wings, a scorching blaze of power that filled the wisp with the fire that it had lost, and more. It rose into the sky, wrapped in Philomena’s warm embrace as she burned, a fierce comet of flames rising with him, burning to ashes in their wake.

The wisp was going home.

Philomena would reform from her ashes, reborn anew when it was gone, and she would once again be alone except for Tia. It seemed so wrong that it was going back to all of its friends, and she would be alone. The wisp reached out with its power as it rose to go home.

And gave her a gift.

The glow of subdued sunlight below the horizon cast the library balcony in shades of soft pink and orange as Monster stood as tall as she could with her eyes closed, facing the rising sun. Under her new lesson plan, there were strict limitations on the spells she could cast without adult supervision, so she was having to dry her mane in the natural breeze that was wafting over the town. The ‘bathtub’ was a marvelous thing, all warm and sudsy with no little biting fish or turtles to disturb a thoughtful morning soak.

What kind of monster are you?!

It was a transformation of her surface only, a lie of dye to the eyes, but Oz had told her that everything in the dye was all-natural, so she was not breaking her promise to Trixie or her lesson plan. She stretched out a limb and regarded the smooth purple tint, comparing it to the old photo she had borrowed from Green Grass’ file. It would have been easy to just dye her coat on a temporary basis, but she had intentionally added the stabilizer to the dye once the tub had filled so that the color change would be permanent, or at least until next shedding season. The last three packages of multicolored mane dye had been placed carefully in her saddlebags for a scheduled visit with ‘Barber Groomsby’ in less than an hour, and Monster was all ready to go once the sun finished rising. It was one more step on her trip from death to life, from destruction to construction with the ultimate goal of building a new life as her own self.

Who do you think you are?

Standing on the balcony, she spread her damp purple wings to the warm morning breeze and felt the spirits of the town drift through her, from the distant creaking of a blue wagon headed north to a tutor’s destiny, to the receding wingbeats of Princess Luna, returning to her home. A hammering of a lone workpony at the rising Town Hall sang counterpart to the whispers of old ponies lined up in front of the coffee shop with cups in hoof while the distant chuffing of the morning train drifted through the cool air. It was a moment of existential beauty as the warmth of the rising sun enveloped her and Monster stepped forward, lifting her purple wings to the air as she leapt over the rail—

—and landed in the bush at the base of the library tree again.

As Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom pulled Monster out of the squashed bush and brushed her off, Scootaloo bounced around like a rubber ball. “That was so cool! For just a second, you were flying! Can I go next?” She skidded to a halt and blinked in disbelief at her friend. “You’re all purple.”

Monster spit out a twig and coughed, checking her saddlebag to make sure the other mane dyes were still intact. “Yeah. Changing. Want to look like Twilight for mom and dad. Other mom.” She ran a purple hoof through her purple mane to get the last twigs out and shook her purple tail free of the entangling bush.

“Awesome!” said Sweetie Belle. “A little monochromatic, but still awesome!”

“Thweet!” declared Twist.

A brilliant flash even managed to illuminate the post-dawn shadows of the nearby bushes and Featherweight dropped down to a landing. “This’ll be amazing. I can take pictures every time you change colors. Do you want to turn pink next?”

“No. Going to the barber shop. Manecut. Dye.” Monster dug into her saddlebag and floated out the picture of the little filly that she once was and showed it to Featherweight. “Like that. I brought a couple gems.”

“You ain’t gotta pay none for that,” said Apple Bloom, nosing open her saddlebag and extracting out the three packets of mane dye and the stabilizer. “We can cut and dye your mane ourselves.”

“My sister has a styling chair,” said Sweetie Belle. “And scissors and brushes and all that stuff. We can go over there right after the morning fireworks.”

“Fireworks?” asked Monster, her head lowering fractionally as she looked around to the brightening horizon.

“Yeah!” said Scootaloo with a hoof-punch to the sky. “I heard the pony who brought them yesterday yell something about this morning he was just throwing all of the fireworks out on the freight platform and tossing in a match.” She shrugged. “Seems a little inefficient, but hay.”

The group of friends hurried off to the train station in search of a good observation spot, close enough to see all of the action but far enough away as not to be too frightening. Behind them, the Golden Oak Library saw its second awakening, as a certain Great and Powerful presence rolled out of her bed, cursing the architect or arborist who decided that the library bedroom should be on the top floor and the bathroom on the main floor. After a quick peek out the window and a sigh of regret that her new husband’s wagon was already gone, as expected, Trixie made her way down to the warm bathroom for an urgent hydraulic need.

The old claw-footed bathtub sat quietly with curls of lilac-scented steam rising from it and a low froth of purple bubbles with a few small feathers decorating the surface, giving Trixie an indication of just where Monster had vanished this morning. It had been a warm feeling of belonging last night to have the little alicorn curled up to her chest with her trembling head resting on Trixie’s shoulder, a far cry from some stallion or mare who just wanted to get their hooves on her Great and Powerful body. Perhaps what Greenie had said about trust was not all that dumb after all. Twilight had trusted Trixie, and Trixie—

—found herself looking at the warm soapy water. A warm bath was a poor substitute for a hot stallion, but it was all that Trixie had this morning since the wagon was gone. She thought briefly about poor Green Grass out in his cold wagon all last night, alone. Twilight was not only changing herself, she changed everypony she touched, from Luna and Celestia, to the dedicated bachelor stallion, and even Trixie had to admit to some small change in her own cold heart. The temptation of the warm soapy water was too much to resist, eventually overcoming her reservations as she slipped into the tub for a long morning soak.

“I don’t know if she’s becoming more like me or I’m becoming more like her.”

dear princess Luna

today i learned not to let my friends cut my mane…

Luna stifled a yawn as she trotted up the stairs to her bedchambers. There was a warm glow about the princess that would not be quenched, both from the sleeping opossum on her back and from the other activities of the highly successful evening. Dawn Court had gone perfectly as Blueblood had been more than willing to shed his outfit and flee back to his quarters rather than remain and offer ‘assistance’ during the proceedings, and Cadence had just adored the sleepy little opossum that Luna had found last night, although she expressed no interest in getting one of her own.

Now she was more than ready for a good day’s rest, if not for one lingering duty which she regretted having agreed to take from Celestia. Her infernal bird needed ‘checked on’ every day to ensure it had both water and a supply of the little waxy seeds that it liked to chew and leave tiny broken fragments all over the castle, including in Luna’s bedcovers. She would have just ‘blown on⁽*⁾’ the duty, if not for the rather puzzling report she had received from several frazzled guards and one rattled Royal Docent, as well as multiple reports of thefts this morning. Admittedly Philomena was a devious little prankster, but she had never resorted to outright stealing unless it resulted in something she might consider funny, and the number of sunstones that had vanished from various parts of the castle this morning was rather exceptional.
(*) Luna’s study of modern idioms was an ongoing educational experience.

The reason behind the thefts and the warm feeling became obvious as Luna strode into her sister’s overheated private study and gawked in amazement at Philomena’s ‘nest.’ The annoying phoenix normally preferred to sit on her perch, or for traveling purposes, in her cage. She had never assembled a nest before, and a large part of Celestia’s knick-knacks and bric-a-brac collection had been sacrificed to provide a base for the structure, with at least a hundred warm, glowing sunstones carefully mixed into the base and Philomena sitting proudly on top.

She wanted to say something to Philomena, but words failed her. In the end, Luna could do nothing more than stare in stunned amazement at her sister’s ancient pet.

And the golden egg sitting in her nest, glowing like the sun.

Dear Princess Celestia,

Rainbow Dash needs to die has recently done a horrible thing told me that she has always wished to become a weather manager in Stalliongrad.

Send her there.

Sincerely,
Your Loyal Student, Trixie, who knows a lot of things you don’t want exposed.

P.S. Please send somepony with a spell that will remove dye. This stuff won’t come out with anything and it even tinted my skin!!

P.P.S. Bring your camera! She’s now the Grape and Powerful Trixie! You’ve gotta see this!
— Spike

Author's Notes:

Author’s note: This brings an end to the Evaluation character arc. The next section will cover Twilight Sparkle’s parents arrival in Ponyville, and the subsequent chaos that ensues.