One night, Inkie Pie had a dream. When she woke up, she headed to Canterlot.

She had never headed to any particular place since the very moment she had left the farm, choosing instead to roam the land and enjoy the journey itself. But for once, she knew that there was something she had to do. Or rather, somepony that wanted to see her. Her time to walk aimlessly through Equestria had come to an end. It was time for her to end it all.

It was a long trip, but Inkie made it. She had her Band to help her, and more than once she ended up using a carriage instead of just walking to the city. If she had been younger, she would have declined such a luxury, but the years had turned her softer, or maybe she had just turned a little wiser.

She entered the city at night, and her Band didn’t follow her. They knew that there wouldn’t be an Inkie Pie concert in that city, and she needed the privacy. And when Inkie finally got to the castle, the pony that had called her in her dreams was there, waiting.

Princess Luna was everything Inkie could never be. She was tall, with strong hooves and wings, with a steady figure, and a powerful voice. She was healthy, healthier than Inkie would ever be, and there was no sign of weakness in her. Standing right next to the goddess, Inkie Pie looked smaller, frailer, more insignificant than ever.

“Good night,” Inkie said when their eyes met. She nodded instead of bowing, as the guitar’s weight was still too much for her back. “It’s an honor, Princess.”

“Inkie Pie. The honor is all mine.” The princess did not bow at her, but she smiled. “I’m glad you accepted my invitation.”

“I had no reason to ignore it,” Inkie replied, “and countless reasons to accept it.”

“I see.” Luna turned around and pointed at the insides of the castle with her wing. “Shall we, then?”

Inkie Pie had never seen a castle before. The walls were higher than anything she’d ever seen, the tapestries were marvelous, the carpets were soft and didn’t hurt her hooves. However, it felt empty—its great halls and huge corridors were cold and lifeless, their hoofsteps resonated with an echo that reminded her of the mountains. It had nothing to do with the towns she had visited so many times, with the road and the cities, with her old rock farm. For the first time in a long time, Inkie Pie felt homesick of the house that had seen her grow.

Luna lead her to a quiet balcony right under the moon, where the stars could be seen without a single cloud to obscure the view. Both sat at the small table that laid there, gazing upon the food and drinks that somepony had put on it before: wine, bread, and fruit.

“I was expecting a bigger feast,” Inkie said with a smile when Luna poured wine in her cup. “I’m glad I was wrong, however.”

“Royalty calls for great banquets and sophisticated meals,” Luna agreed, taking her own cup and raising it. “But this dinner has nothing to do with royalty, Inkie Pie. I’m afraid it has more to do with myself as a pony than with my position in society. A toast?”

“For the big feast that never was, and the relief that gives to my stomach.” Inkie Pie raised her cup too, and both drank the wine. It was sweet and red, and Inkie felt it going down her throat and dulling her sense ever so slightly. Then, she got a slice of bread and bit it. “You called me in my dreams,” she said after swallowing. “You asked for my presence in private.”

“And you answered.” Luna’s eyes shined under the moonlight. “I’m the guardian of my subjects’ nights, Inkie Pie, and I’m the one who takes care of what they dream and what it means. I protect, but sometimes I just watch and learn.”

“Oh.” Inkie smiled. “And you learned from me?”

“No.” Luna took an orange and carefully peeled it with her magic. “Not from your dreams, at least. But I learned from the ones that listened to your songs.”

“I see.”

“You changed them, Inkie Pie. You changed the way they looked at themselves.” The princess put an orange slice in her mouth and chewed it slowly. “I’ve seen many things in my long life, but very few are able to make a pony think about herself.” A little frown appeared on her face as she said those last words. “I am the first one who knows that.”

“Everypony makes mistakes, Princess,” Inkie replied. “And I believe that everypony deserves to be forgiven sometimes.”

“Even by herself?”

“Especially by herself.”

Luna nodded. “And what about you? You walk the land and play songs, and everypony seems to know your name. Yet nopony seems to know you. Did you ever do something that needed forgiveness?”

Inkie chuckled. “I’m afraid I can’t tell. I’ve done many things, Princess, but the vast majority of them were done when I was younger.”

“I have also done many things. And most of them were not to be proud of.” Luna rested her hooves on the table and looked at Inkie, who took a piece of fruit and quietly ate it. “Everypony seems to forgive me. My sister told me she was sorry for what she had done, when she had done nothing wrong. My subjects respect me and adore me, even though they should fear me. The pony who can change your life comes to me without any kind of doubt, even though she should run away from me.” Luna sighed. “And I can not forgive myself for what I did in the past. What can you say to that, Inkie Pie? What can be said?”

“Honestly?” Inkie finished the piece of fruit and took another one. “I can’t say anything. Nopony can. Not even you.”

Luna stared at her.

“Our lives have been very different, Princess. But then again, everypony’s life is a story on its own.” Inkie licked her lips. “I am not, however, an expert in anypony else’s life. I only know about mine, because it’s the one that I had to live.”

“I see.”

“As such, I don’t know if I can help you.” She looked at Luna in the eyes. “What you did in the past is done, and nothing can change it. What you will do in the future still hasn’t been done. The only thing that matters is the present, and I don’t see you trying to attack me. Instead, I see you offering me a nice dinner. I have nothing to fear.”

“The past doesn’t matter, then?”

“The past matters, and so does the future.” Inkie shrugged. “I believe, however, that the present is far more important.”

“But why?”

“Because the present is everything we have.” Inkie pointed at the sky. “The moon is beautiful. The stars shine above us. The food is delicious. There’s nothing else we should worry about tonight.”

“So that’s what I should do?” Luna shook her head. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop remembering it when they talk about Nightmare Night. I can’t—”

“Then don’t do that. When they disguise themselves so you don’t eat them, remember what you did.” Inkie sighed. “But don’t think about what will happen next year. Don’t remember what happened the last. Nothing lasts forever, Princess, but a lot of things are very short.”

Luna said nothing.

“I know what pain is,” Inkie said. “I’ve known that all my life. It’s never been pleasant and it will never be. But suffering what I have to suffer is easier than remembering the one I already suffered, or thinking about what the future will bring. And when you think about it, it doesn’t really matter anyway.” She sighed. “I was once very afraid of death, Princess, until I realized that there was no reason for me to be. I am alive. Why should I fear death, then?”

“Because it will come,” Luna said. “Because it always comes.”

“And I’ll face it when it comes,” Inkie said, “but until that moment, there’s no use. The past turned you into what you are now, Princess, and that’s the only thing it’s worth for. When it comes to you, the past has nothing to do, while the present is everything you have.”

“So I don’t need to feel guilty? Just because at this very moment I’m not trying to kill everypony?”

“If you’re right and everypony else has forgiven you, then yes.” Inkie nodded. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Inkie Pie,” Luna said, “I don’t think you understand my position here.”

“And yet I believe I do.” Inkie smiled. “Because you’ve come to me in search of advice, even though I can’t tell you anything. I’m a weak filly, a simple musician that walks Equestria and sings silly songs. There’s no way I can be wiser than the Princess of the Night.”

Luna laughed. “I am pathetic, aren’t I?”

“Pathetic? No.” Inkie shook her head. “Confused? Yes. You are suffering and you don’t know if you’re worthy to stop doing so. But everypony else has forgiven you, and you clearly want to forgive yourself.” She shrugged. “Not forgiving yourself would do nothing, while living in peace can bring you happiness—something that you want.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“For me, it is. But what do I know?” Inkie took another slice of bread. “I’m just a musician that once accepted death. And once you get the important things, everything else seems to be of lesser importance.” She raised an eyebrow. “You became jealous and attacked your sister, but you won’t do that anymore. You learned, you tried to move on, you failed. Maybe you should try again.”

“And if I can’t?”

“Then try again, or don’t try.” Inkie finished her bread. “Life is short and the present dies quickly, Princess. Your blame is yours to carry, and your problems are yours to solve. If I tried to change your life with simple words, I would do nothing. The only one that can do that is you.”

“You can show me how to do that,” Luna said. “You can explain me how you did it.”

“I am doing so. Accept that you’re the one who really matters. Realize that the past doesn’t exist, and the future might never come. Enjoy the present. You’re not asking me for help because you feel guilty of what you did. You’re asking me for help because you’re afraid of feeling guilty in the future.” She took her cup and drank some more wine. “What I say is: if you feel guilty in the future, do it. But don’t think about it now, as it hasn’t happened yet.”

Luna sighed and drank wine too, then turned to the moon. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to,” she said. “I don’t know if I’ll forgive myself.”

“Try to forgive yourself now, and don’t worry about the future. That’s all I can say.” Inkie left the cup on the table and put away the plate. “Well, not exactly. There’s another thing that I should add.”

The princess turned around to look at her. “It being?”

“Only you can forgive yourself. But at least I forgive you.”

She stared at her for a while, not saying anything. The moon kept on shining, the stars kept on glimmering, and for what felt like hours, neither of them moved.

Then Luna got up and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you very much.”

That night was one of the most important ones in Inkie’s life. It was the night of her last dinner, the only time she ever saw the one pony she could call her friend, the first and last time she ever went to Canterlot.

And it was the night she sang a duet for the first time.