Aloe knocked on the library’s door at noon exactly, and Rainbow answered. “Oh, hey you two,” she said sleepily, hastily swallowing the admonition she had ready for waking her.

“We won’t take up much of your time,” Lotus said, and Rainbow nodded.

She turned back and called for the others to wake up, and in a few minutes, the entire group was assembled at the door, looking out at the spa twins curiously.

“We wish to say goodbye,” Aloe said.

“You’re leaving already?” Rarity asked.

“Yes. We have set our affairs in order here, and are ready to leave. All that remains is saying goodbye to our friends,” Lotus said, throwing off a warm smile.

“Are you leaving right now?” Fluttershy asked.

“Yes. As soon as we have left this doorway, we will be on our way out of Ponyville.”

“Where are you going?” Pinkie asked.

“We still do not wish to say,” Aloe said.

They were silent for a moment, looking at the peculiar twins, unsure of what to say. “Well, good luck to y’all,” Applejack finally said.

“Thank you, Applejack,” Lotus said.

“We would like to wish you all good luck as well,” Aloe said. They both nodded. “You travel a difficult road.”

“We know,” Twilight said, “and thank you.”

There was another awkward silence, and the twins made to turn around.

“Wait,” Rainbow said, and they gave her their attention. “I have to ask. Lotus… yesterday. What happened?”

Lotus frowned a little. “I’m afraid I do not know what you want of me.”

“At Doctor Whooves’ house, when you decked Icy! That was awesome, by the way. But how did you do it so fast? I can’t even move that fast.”

Lotus’ face turned serious and contrite. “It was not awesome, Rainbow Dash. I acted severely out of line.”

“He deserved it, though.”

“How can he deserve to be attacked so brutally for a simple comment?”

“You warned him, though,” Twilight said.

“But I did not think that I would snap so violently.”

“Aw, c’mon. It wasn’t that bad,” Rainbow said.

“I do not hurt defenseless ponies, Rainbow Dash,” Lotus said again, her voice stern. She held up a hoof to stay Rainbow’s objection.

“He had no time to prepare himself,” Aloe said.

“Still awesome,” Rainbow muttered.

“I think it was deplorable,” Lotus said.

“If you’re so bothered by it, why not apologize to him?” Rarity asked.

“I already did. He took it surprisingly well.”

“If he’s not surrounded by angry ponies, he’s quite reasonable,” Aloe said.

“That’s surprising,” Rainbow said. “So maybe hitting him wasn’t the best thing in the world. But how’d you do it so fast? You didn’t answer me.”

“I think you are mistaken as to my speed,” Lotus said. “We were close to begin with, and none of you were paying attention to me. All eyes were on Icy. You just didn’t see me approach him.”

“But I could have sworn…” Rainbow thought for a bit. “I guess it just looked faster than it was.”

“That does make the most sense, Rainbow,” Twilight said.

“Don’t worry, Rainbow, you are still the fastest pony,” Lotus said with a smile, and Rainbow brightened.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. What earth pony can go faster than a pegasus anyway?”

“Just a trick of the light, Ah suspect,” Applejack said.

“Yes, likely.” Lotus looked at them all, and smiled once more. “It’s been good talking, but we must be going. We have very little time to travel.”

“How are you going to get where you’re going?” Twilight asked.

“We have our ways,” Aloe said.

“Will you ever come back?” Fluttershy asked, her voice ragged.

“It is likely, but not for a long time.” Aloe stepped forward and shared a brief hug with her, and then Rarity.

“We will miss you all,” Lotus said. “And who knows? Equestria is a big place; maybe we will meet again before that.” They both bowed courteously and walked away from the open door, away from the library, and out of sight.

“They’ll be okay,” Pinkie said.

“Pinkie Sense?” Applejack asked.

“Yup!”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Rarity said.

“Ah don’t s’pose yer Pinkie Sense has anything to say ‘bout our journey?” Applejack asked.

Pinkie shook her head violently.

“Hmph. Rarity, did you finish our dresses last night?”

“Of course I finished them. It took me until two in the morning, but I did it.”

“Well, good,” Rainbow said.

Rarity eyed her patiently. “Oh, and Pinkie, darling, you simply must learn to treat your dresses with more respect. I had to entirely re-stitch the back half of yours.”

“Sorry, Rarity. I don’t know what happened to it!”

“I’m sure you don’t.” Rarity held a hoof to her eyes to gauge the sun’s position without blinding herself. “We should leave a half hour early, so we don’t run the risk of being late.”

“So what do we do until then?” Applejack asked, looking at Twilight.

“I don’t know.” Twilight thought for a moment. “I suppose we should check out the airship and make sure it’s still okay to fly.” She looked at her friends, who looked back at her unenthusiastically.

“Really, Twilight? Look at the airship? That’s the most boring thing ever!” Rainbow said.

“I didn’t say we all had to do it. I’d be perfectly happy to have just one of you.”

“Ah’ll help ya out, Twi,” Applejack said.

“Thank you, Applejack.”

While the others wandered back into the library, Twilight and Applejack walked up the plank to the airship’s deck and looked around. Twilight didn’t want to say how disappointed she was in the others for their lack of enthusiasm.

“I skimmed a book on airship maintenance, and according to that, we need to check the torch and engines first, because they’re the most important,” Twilight said.

“Makes sense, Ah s’pose. What’re we checkin’ fer?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Twilight admitted. “Signs of wear and tear, I guess.” She walked to the torch and inspected it, looking up and down its shiny, metal body cluelessly.

Applejack went to the wheel and placed a hoof on it, turning it stiffly back and forth. “This kinda brings me back. Ah remember when Ah was just a filly, Granny Smith had a tractor, an’ Ah remember watchin’ her work on it.”

“I didn’t know you ever had heavy machinery,” Twilight said.

“We didn’t keep it long. Too much work keepin’ it up an’ runnin’.”

“Do you remember anything about it? Maintenance, I mean.”

“Nothin’ specific. Ah remember watchin’ Granny open it up an’ check its guts out, but Ah dunno what she was doin’.”

“Hm.” Twilight flipped a switch on the torch and backed up in surprised as it spewed a column of flame up into the sagging balloon. She quickly turned it back off, blushing a little at her own skittishness. “What did I expect that to do?”

They went down the hatch at the back and into the engine room. The heat had built inside, turning the pleasant spring day into a hot, metallic miasma inside the cramped area. The room was paneled with wood, holed in the sides and covered with thin metal grates, affording views of the gears and pistons just inside. At its back was the engine block, suspended awkwardly off the floor, halfway in the wall.

“Do you know anything about this stuff?” Applejack asked.

“Not at all,” Twilight said, scratching her head.

They went back out to the deck, happy to escape the stifling atmosphere of the engine room. There was nothing for them to do, but they didn’t want to leave the ship so early. They stayed on the deck talking and idly wandering around, picking at the torch, wheel, and gunwales until it was nearly time to get dressed for Lyra’s funeral. They got off the ship having accomplished nothing.

When they got up to Twilight’s room, Rarity was fitting Fluttershy, who was crying openly. “Fluttershy, dear, I know it’s sad, but it will all be over soon, okay?” Rarity said in a motherly voice. She looked up. “Oh, good, Twilight, Applejack. I was just finishing up with Fluttershy. How much time do we have?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Twilight said.

“Oh, dear. Applejack, come here so I can help you into your dress.”

Applejack reluctantly stepped over to Rarity, and Twilight put her own dress on with a flash of magic. She went to the door and called downstairs for Pinkie and Rainbow.

There was a crash, followed by hurried hoofsteps up the stairs to the room; Pinkie exploded through the open door, and Rainbow blurred past her, crashing into the opposite wall.

“What in Celestia’s name are you two doin’?” Applejack asked.

Pinkie giggled and began hopping around the room. “Dashie wanted to know how fast she could go and I said that she would have to go outside to try it out and she said no she could just turn a really tight circle in the room and I said okey-dokey and then she did and you called us and she came up the stairs and she was going really really fast!”

Rainbow groaned, rubbing her head.

“But then she crashed.”

“I hope you didn’t mess up anything down there, Rainbow,” Twilight chided.

Rainbow landed softly next to Rarity. “Ugh, don’t worry Twilight, I didn’t mess up any of your precious books.”

Applejack stepped away, and Rarity beckoned Pinkie over. “Now Pinkie, hold still while I put this on you,” she said, lifting the dress up to her. “Rainbow, you’re next.”

“How long did they say this is gonna take?” Rainbow asked.

“Around forty-five minutes,” Twilight said. “Why?”

“Eeeeeeh, don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t wanna go, Dashie?” Pinkie asked.

“Pinkie, hold still,” Rarity said firmly.

“Sorry, Rarity!”

“Don’t worry, Rainbow. It won’t be that bad,” Twilight said.

“Have you ever been to a funeral, Twi?” Applejack asked.

“My grandma, when I was really young.”

“It doesn’t count if you’re young,” Rainbow said.

Rarity released Pinkie, and Rainbow sullenly went in her place.

“What? Of course it does, Rainbow,” Rarity said.

“If you don’t remember it that well, it doesn’t really stick with you, though.”

“All I remember is the music, honestly,” Twilight said.

“Is there gonna be music at this one?” Pinkie asked.

“I’m sure there will be something,” Rarity said. “Rainbow, keep your wings down.”

Rainbow breathed out in frustration, and grunted as Rarity tugged at a sleeve. “Careful, Rarity.”

“Ticklish, Dashie?” Pinkie asked, smiling menacingly.

“Don’t you dare,” Rarity said, fixing her with a dark glare. She backed up and examined them all. “Good. We’re all looking very prim and proper, just right for our… engagement.”

“It’s basically time. Shall we?” Twilight said.

“What about Spike?” Fluttershy asked.

“He’s staying behind to watch the library.”

“Again?” Rarity asked.

“Yeah, why?”

Rarity thought. “Never mind. Let’s get going.”

They exited her room, going down the stairs in a dark line, and then the library proper, Twilight bidding Spike a quiet goodbye as they went out the door. The trip to the hospital was quick and quiet; Rainbow had stopped her fidgeting and grumbling, and Pinkie had stopped speaking. The day before, it had been easy to put thoughts of the funeral out of their minds, but now, only an hour away, it weighed heavily on them all. Death was not something that happened often in Ponyville, and when it did, it was felt throughout the entire town. The Ponyville cemetery was small and quiet, far from the rest of the town and often forgotten for months or years at a time. The sudden crop of funerals had left many ponies in a state of visible devastation that Twilight had never seen.

They passed the hospital information desk with only a nod of greeting as they made their way to the back, back into the funeral hall. Bonbon was already there, along with Chilly Puddle. Orchid Dew and Clockwork were making last-minute preparations with the casket: adjusting the flower arrangement, shining the finish, checking the hinges.

When they entered, Bonbon favored them with a curt nod and a forced smile. They stood by her uncertainly, not wanting to go into the chapel and disturb the workers, but wanting to give Bonbon her privacy. After a few more hushed words with the directress, Bonbon nodded, and Chilly moved in to hug her; she accepted it stiffly.

She looked at the group and walked into the chapel, and they followed her, taking their seats in the same spot as the day before. Clockwork and Orchid Dew finished their task and left, and after a minute, Colgate entered, nodding a greeting as she sat next to them. She was dressed in a coal-black dress that shone ethereally in the minimal sunlight, and a dark veil to go with it, bunched up at her forehead.

“You ready?” she asked.

“I guess so,” Twilight said.

“Good.” She looked at Fluttershy, who was looking down at the floor, her face screwed up in suppressed sorrow. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“Give her time,” Rarity said, and Colgate nodded.

There were hoofsteps, and Sea Swirl entered the room, Big Macintosh just behind her. Sea Swirl took a seat next to Colgate, and Big Mac behind Applejack and Rainbow.

“How you doing, Swirl?” Colgate asked.

Sea Swirl sniffed once and wiped her eyes. “Not too bad, I guess.”

Colgate put a hoof on Sea Swirl’s back calmly, and Derpy walked in.

“Hey, Derpy. How’re you?” Colgate greeted.

“Oh, okay, considering,” she said weakly.

“Don’t worry, Derpy, we’re all suffering. But we’ll get through it,” Sea Swirl said, blinking a few times in rapid succession.

“I know, I know. Still sad.”

Everyone kept mostly quiet, except Colgate, who spoke to every pony who entered, greeting them, asking whether they were okay, and offering words of encouragement where they were needed. It was fifteen minutes later when the chapel was mostly full, and the directresses were readying to speak.

“Okay, is this everyone?” Clockwork asked, looking around.

The crowd nodded and murmured assent.

“Right. So, we’re all going to the cemetery now, which, in case you don’t know, is on the northeast end of Ponyville, just outside Whitetail Wood. There’s an area set up already, so you should find it pretty easily. Those of you who are walking, you might want to leave now, just so we don’t have to wait for you when we get there.”

Twilight and her friends got up, as well as Big Macintosh, Colgate, Sea Swirl, and half the others. They could hear Clockwork continue speaking as they exited the room, and they walked back into the hospital in an air of quiet, awkward respect. It felt strange for such a huge crowd to pass through the narrow corridors all at once, pressing in to avoid brushing against the torches that hung in imperfect intervals on the white walls, stained with halos of soot wherever the flames danced.

The outside air was warm and pleasant, the ground covered with a layer of spring grass. Big Mac was smiling peacefully to himself while Colgate and Sea Swirl spoke quietly, away from the others. Rainbow took to the air, but came down immediately at Rarity’s warning; it was disrespectful for pegasi to fly in a funeral procession. Rainbow grumbled, but voiced no objections.

The walk took half an hour, and before they could get a good look at the woods, and perhaps see how far Pinkie’s restorative spell had gone, they were drawn over to the group of ponies, huddling underneath a ramshackle tent constructed of spare sticks and a big, blue tarp. A small picket fence was all there was to separate the cemetery from the rest of the fields around the north end of town, though there were no signs to indicate it. Rows and rows of small, gray, weathered headstones lay across the grassy, flowery earth, tiny imperfections in the otherwise perfect scene. Bees and butterflies moved lazily about, and the occasional tree provided nets of shade on the bright green meadow.

They took their places in the middle of the crowd. Everyone was dressed in formal, dark vests and dresses, and it was strange to Twilight, seeing the sea of colorful fur blotted out. A quartet of ponies, dressed in sharp, black tuxedos, stood to the side of the crowd: a violinist, a harpist, a trumpeter, and a drummer. They waited with pensive eyes and straight expressions, betraying no feelings. There was a fresh grave dug, and at its head, a clean, bright gray headstone, its corners sharp and new, its etching clear and perfect. Under Lyra’s name, the epitaph read: Gone, but not forgotten. The directresses, lector, and casket were still absent.

When the carriage arrived, several minutes later, the musicians started, playing a slow, dignified song with a somber, low beat, quieting the already still ponies into a single, watchful, unhappy unit. The directresses lifted the casket out and carried it over to the grave. They placed it carefully to the side, then moved astride the podium, and the music died.

Twilight could see everything from a space between ponies’ heads. The casket was closed, whole, hard; it was incredible for her to think that a pony was inside. Its flower arrangement seemed the only color to the scene. The ponies surrounding her were all faceless to her, washed out in the strange, blue light that filtered through the tarp; the wildflowers and grass in the distance were meaningless background, ignored. Everything else was depressed, leaning in on the grave as though sucked in by its gravity, except the single, bright star of flowers on the casket’s surface.

As Twilight looked at it, she felt the first stirrings of powerful sadness in her chest. Before, she had only felt distantly sorry for Bonbon and Lyra’s other friends, not truly internalizing the hurtful hole that her absence would leave; now, staring at the flowers, she had to wipe a tear away. Such elegant beauty, simplicity, destined even from the beginning to die, crushed between the suffocating earth and cold, hard casket exterior. The flowers deserve their fate. Twilight sniffed once more, and a hoof snaked around her back, squeezing her. She hated herself for the sorrow she felt: not for Lyra, or Bonbon, but for the flowers. The stupid flowers.

Before she could follow her own thoughts further, a pastel yellow-coated, brick-red maned pegasus stepped to the front. He was short, a little thin, and had a simple, five-pointed, blue star for a cutie mark. His eyes were focused, his face smooth. The music died to a quiet hum.

He cleared his throat and began to speak, his voice authoritative and dulcet. “We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of Lyra Heartstrings, and bid her a final farewell. I know, in current circumstances, many ponies have left us. We all have questions, and fears. In times like this, it is easy to feel overburdened, and give up hope for a brighter tomorrow; but it is also times like this that we must remember who we are, and come together to offer support and comfort to each other. The death of a friend or loved one is always a sad time.” He paused; Bonbon was finally crying. “And while we can not escape our own sadness, we must also not hold onto it for longer than we must. Her Majesty, Princess Celestia, once said: ‘death is but another part of life, as beautiful and mysterious as all of our experiences. Do not begrudge death, nor run from it. In accepting it, you do the deceased the greatest honor’.”

He was silent for a minute, and the small band began another song. They all reflected; Twilight had heard Celestia’s words before, and read them as well, but never paid them much mind. She closed her eyes, and tried to listen to the sounds of the world and the music around them; all she could hear, however, was Fluttershy crying softly, a few seats away.

After a time, when the song had turned again to a low ambiance, the pegasus went on. “Lyra was a caring, gentle pony with many loving friends. She always had time to lend a hoof or a kind word, even to a stranger. She was a skilled musician, and her talents were celebrated throughout Ponyville and Canterlot. She was always a conscientious performer, either in private or on the stage, and while she had no children, and no spouse, we can take comfort in the memory that will live on in the music she created.” He stepped to the side. “Bonbon, would you like to say a few words?”

Bonbon slowly walked to the front of the crowd. She turned her back on the casket and faced them, her face set and her eyes detached, tear stains beneath them. She took a breath, released it, took another, and began speaking. “Lyra was… Lyra was my closest friend. We knew each other since grade school, and we’ve always been there for each other. Lyra was… um.” She looked at them all, her eyes meeting Twilight’s for a fraction of a moment. “Lyra… always used to say ‘everything happens for a reason,’ and, though I never told her, I’ve, uh, I’ve always tried to take those words to heart. Keep them in mind when faced with a difficult situation, or a stressful time. Thinking of them always brought me comfort, as I’m sure it did for her as well. Why else would she repeat it so often? I…” she extended the word out, trying to think of something to say.

The crowd watched respectfully, and for a moment, it looked like she would not continue.

“I don’t really know what to say here. I’m not great with words, especially sentimental ones like this.”

Fluttershy was crying harder.

“So I guess this is a pretty crappy eulogy. But you know, I get the feeling, and Lyra would probably agree, that the point of the eulogy, and of the ceremony in general, isn’t to be pretty, or elegant, or anything like that, but to be honest. To be true. To remember the pony in death like how you would in life. Not to gloss over their accomplishments, but celebrate them.” She smiled a little. “I remember the first time I saw her performing on stage—she loved it so much, seeing the crowd explode in applause when she was done with a song—and I remember seeing her face, and it was so peaceful, so… so calm, that I knew that that was what she was born to be. A musician. A performer. And I’m reminded of that now, seeing her behind me like this. I know her… passing wasn’t peaceful, but I like to believe she saw it coming far enough in advance to accept it. Maybe even to get one last bit of that internal peace I saw that night.” She sighed. “If not then, she certainly has it now. So yes, I’m sad for her death, as I’m sure we all are, but I think we can feel better if we reflect on the words we’ve heard today. Death is just a different part of life, after all, and we can’t run from it. Besides, as Lyra said, everything happens for a reason. I… I suppose this is the last time I have to say this.” She turned around and laid a hoof on the casket. “Goodbye, Lyra. I’ll always love you.”

She returned to her place among the crowd and accepted, begrudgingly, hugs from the neighboring ponies. Fluttershy and Rarity were weeping loudly, but nopony looked at them.

The pegasus took his place before the casket once again. “Thank you, Bonbon. That was beautiful. If anypony has any last remarks for Lyra, now would be the time to give them.”

He stepped aside again, and the crowd formed a line to the casket. Twilight stood near the back, behind Pinkie and before Rainbow. As they slowly made their way to the casket, she tried to think of what to say. She hadn’t known Lyra very well, and wondered whether she should have even gotten up.

As they approached, she heard Fluttershy’s wails increase in volume and intensity; she felt sorry for her, but was glad she didn’t share her hypersensitivity. They got closer, and she heard Fluttershy try to say something; it came out as a strangled noise between a scream and a growl, and she hurried back to the tarp’s shelter.

Rarity said something quiet that Twilight didn’t hear, and then Applejack bid her a simple goodbye with a tip of her hat. Pinkie leaned in close to the casket, until she was almost pressing her face up against it; she spoke at full volume, and Twilight could hear her. “See you later, Lyra. Good luck, and look after Bonbon.” She walked back to the crowd, a small, satisfied smile playing on her face.

Twilight approached the casket and looked at it. “Um, well, I guess this is it, Lyra. I… goodbye, I guess.” She wanted to stay longer, until something more articulate came out, but she couldn’t. She returned to her friends and stood next to them, watching as the last few paid their respects.

When they were done, the pegasus overseeing the burial resumed his spot before the grave. “This has been our last farewell. The body will now be lowered into the grave.”

At this, Orchid Dew and Clockwork, who had appeared behind him at some point in the proceedings, began to magically let the casket sink into the grave. The musicians began the final time, a soft, tinkling song that reminded Twilight of sunshine through the trees. Low and stuttering violin in the back with a quick, high and delicate harp at the front, and the trumpet moaning behind it all.

The casket disappeared beneath the grave’s edge, and Fluttershy let out a fresh howl of sorrow. The lector approached the grave and kicked a sprinkle of dirt onto the casket; it made a light pitta-pitta sound, and Twilight felt another surge of sadness. Such a final gesture, and such a small, unimportant sound to signify it.

Orchid Dew and Clockwork ignited their horns again, and the hole was quickly filled with dirt; when it was done, only a patch of incongruous brown earth remained to mark the site of their efforts.

“The reception will be back at the hospital, and I encourage all of you to attend,” the lector said. He left the podium, and the musicians began to pack up. Everyone stayed under the tarp and moved freely among each other, talking, crying, offering comfort. Fluttershy and Rarity were entangled, crying into each other’s shoulders. Applejack was rubbing Rainbow’s back softly, and Pinkie simply stood, staring at the grave, transfixed.

Twilight, however, felt no urge to cry; she only observed the scene and wondered at her own feelings. She didn’t know Lyra, but she should have felt something for Bonbon, she knew. To put the unsettling thought out of her mind, she approached Pinkie. “Even at a time like this, I expect her to be a distraction. What does that say about me?”

She wasn’t certain how to approach her, but her presence seemed enough to break Pinkie out of her trance. “Oh, Twilight. How you doing?”

“Fine, I guess,” she said. “You?”

“It’s so sad.” Pinkie looked back at the casket, and Twilight understood; it wasn’t easy for Pinkie to voice how she felt.

“Do you want to go to the reception?”

Pinkie nodded. “I would never pass up a party, even if it’s a sad one.”

“Yeah, we should probably go,” Rainbow said, coming over and wiping away a couple tears.

The others joined them slowly, and they started walking behind a small group of others, of which Colgate and Sea Swirl were a part. Colgate looked back with a composed expression and nodded to Twilight, who looked back at her uncertainly.

The trip back to the hospital was uneventful, and by the time they arrived in the reception room—a small dining hall downstairs from the funeral home—Rarity and Fluttershy had stopped crying. They were among the last ones to arrive, and ponies were already sitting at tables and eating from small plates: pasta salad and bits of other vegetables, most of them. Everything was bathed in torchlight, softer and weaker in the large room. The ponies themselves, dressed in dark clothes, seemed to be wearing their own shadows, and Twilight had to wait at the threshold for a moment to take in the scene.

Colgate and Sea Swirl were at a table by themselves, and they waved the six over. It was difficult for Twilight to recognize them at first.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Colgate asked them all. Her face was still veiled, and Twilight could barely make it out; it seemed shrouded entirely in darkness, save for the twin pinpricks of light that reflected off her eyes.

“I don’t know,” Rainbow said sullenly, sitting and looking past them both at the far wall.

“Well, the worst is over.”

“All of it’s over,” Sea Swirl said.

“There’s still some food in the kitchen back there, if you want to eat,” Colgate said, indicating the back room.

“Oh, thank you, dear, but I’m fine,” Rarity said.

“Ah’m a mite hungry,” Applejack said, getting up.

“Where’s Big Mac? I was hoping to see him here,” Colgate said.

“He had to go back to the farm, I think,” Twilight said, wondering herself where he had gone. She hadn’t seen him leave. “Applejack will know,” she said with a shrug.

Colgate’s mouth twitched in an attempt at a smile. “Bonbon gave a great eulogy, didn’t she?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Rarity said. “It was very moving, and it didn’t sound rehearsed at all.”

“I think she thought of it on the spot,” Sea Swirl said.

“That takes a lot of courage,” Colgate said, turning her empty face toward them. “So, when are you leaving?”

“Oh, um, tonight, I think,” Twilight said; she looked at Rainbow, who was still staring resolutely at the wall beyond, a frown etched on her face.

Sea Swirl whistled and Colgate nodded. “Tonight, huh? I guess you are eager to move on. Is it still a secret why?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I thought as much.”

“Why do you care so much about where we’re going?” Rainbow asked, still not turning her head.

“Pardon?”

“Why do you care so much about where we’re going?” Rainbow repeated, enunciating each syllable with deliberate care.

“Oh, no particular reason. I’m just curious,” Colgate said.

Rainbow opened her mouth to retort, but caught Pinkie looking at her sharply; she closed it again and sighed. Applejack returned with a plate of macaroni salad, and they stayed and talked; more of the burial, Big Macintosh (on whom Colgate lingered), plans for repairing the town after Twilight’s group had left. Pinkie asked about the hospital lights, and Colgate said that they had a backup generator, which was powering the majority of the operation and recovery rooms; the funerary wing wasn’t important enough to get the same treatment.

The reception wound to a close quietly, and Twilight and her friends bade Colgate and Sea Swirl a goodbye—their last, Twilight said—and left. The trip to the library was quiet, and when they entered, the first thing they did was strip off their funeral clothes; Rarity folded them up and put them back in Twilight’s room. Twilight could hear Spike in the basement.

“What happened back at the reception, Rainbow?” Twilight asked.

“Oh, Twilight, not you too,” she said.

“Hey, I’m not trying to bother you. I’m just curious. Are you okay?”

“I’m just fine, thanks.”

“Don’t worry, Rainbow, we’re all unhappy today,” Pinkie said, hugging her.

“It’s not that. It’s… Pinkie, get off of me.” She shrugged roughly out of Pinkie’s grip, and Pinkie backed away. “I’ll be in my room,” she said, heading upstairs.

“You mean Twilight’s room,” Rarity said.

“Yeah, that.” The door slammed upstairs.

“What’s her problem?” Applejack asked.

“She’s just upset about the burial, I’m sure,” Rarity said.

“She said it was her first. She probably doesn’t know what to do with her own feelings,” Fluttershy said.

“I know how to cheer her up!” Pinkie said, gamboling up the stairs.

“I think we should leave in a few hours,” Twilight said.

“I agree,” Rarity said.

Pinkie was knocking on Twilight’s door, and Twilight heard Rainbow answer angrily. They both came quickly downstairs, Rainbow frowning.

“Come on, everypony! Let’s go to Sugarcube Corner!” Pinkie cheered.

“Wait, what?” Applejack said. “Why would we go there now?”

“Well, I can’t tell you why, ‘cause that’ll spoil the surprise.”

“Surprise? Pinkie, you didn’t…” Rarity started.

“Oh no no, Rarity, noooooo guessing!”

Pinkie bounced out the door, and Twilight sighed and followed her, not bothering to lock the door behind her.

“Pinkie, what in Equestria is this?” Rainbow demanded.

“You’ll see!” she squealed from far ahead.

“I swear, if this is what I think it is.”

“Seriously, Rainbow, why are you in such a bad mood?” Twilight asked, bracing herself for another curt, defensive answer.

“I’m not in a bad mood.”

“You certainly are actin’ like it,” Applejack said.

Rainbow didn’t respond, and they walked the rest of the way to Sugarcube Corner in awkward silence. As they approached the decorated structure, they heard the familiar banter of voices and the heavy throb of music.

“Oh, Celestia, it is,” Rainbow muttered.

Pinkie was already at the door, holding it open for them. “Hey, everypony, they’re here!”

A cheer swelled inside the shop and funneled out the door, shattering the otherwise still afternoon air, and Twilight’s somber mood. Finally, an excuse to stop worrying about the legitimacy of her feelings. The others looked doubtful.

Pinkie charged into the bakery, and as soon as they entered behind her, they were instantly transported to a world of color, noise, and motion; ponies, some familiar, many not, grabbed them, twirled them around, hugged them, danced with them. Twilight lost the sight of her friends almost immediately as she was rushed into a swirl of manes and tails and smiles. All thoughts of the burial, not two hours ago, were forgotten, replaced with food and revelry and music.

Before long, Twilight found herself smiling in spite of her efforts to remain reverent to the grim memories of the morning, and when she caught her own laughing expression mirrored on the faces of her friends, the final impulse for remembrance faded. Only Rainbow remained immune to the infectious joy, holding bitterly onto her bad mood and standing at the room’s sides. Twilight spared her no thought as she was thrown through the pulsing party.

When the crowd had calmed down and freed them from its attention, they crowded around a table off to the side, where Rainbow was already sitting.

“Whooey! Ah gotta say, Pinkie, this is one heck of a party! You sure know how to throw ‘em,” Applejack said, wiping sweat off her brow.

Pinkie nodded in an extravagant arc. “Thanks, Applejack! I knew you guys would like it, even if we had to be sad earlier!”

“I’m honestly surprised at how much this lifted my spirits,” Twilight said, looking at Rainbow for a second; the blue pegasus wore her frown even deeper than before, as if in defiance of the cloying, happy atmosphere.

“I figured since we were leaving, we should have one last party, to get going on the right hoof!”

“Well, it certainly was a terrific idea,” Rarity said.

“Yes, and I love the music,” Twilight said, craning her neck to look around the room. There was a palpable change in atmosphere that she couldn’t explain. Usually, Pinkie’s parties were loud and colorful, with low-key and pleasant music, but tonight the affair seemed bigger, more active. There were still the clusters of balloons and ribbons bowing across the wall, but the music was loud, almost pushy, and the smell of food and sweat hung heavier in the air.

“Ah gotta agree. Ah’m not usually one fer this kind of music, but it really gets yer head bobbin’,” Applejack said.

Pinkie beamed and turned around, letting the party absorb her.

“Hello again, you all,” Colgate said, coming up with an upturned corner of the mouth. “Back from your adventures so soon?”

“Oh, Colgate, no, we haven’t even left yet,” Fluttershy said, and Colgate rolled her eyes playfully.

“I didn’t want to say I’d be seeing you all again today. An hour later.” She dropped her expression, what Twilight had come to understand as a smile, for a moment. “This is some party, huh? I don’t go to these too often, but it feels like she put a lot of extra work into this one.”

“It certainly seems that way,” Twilight said.

“Why don’t you usually come?” Rarity asked conversationally.

“Work,” Colgate said simply.

“Ah, yes. You work at the hospital, do you not?”

“Surgeon, yeah. Long hours.”

“Well, it’s good that you were able to get away for this.”

“Well, I have to see my friends off, don’t I? Have you had anything to eat yet? Pinkie really outdid herself on the party favors. Er, I assume she did.”

“No, not yet. We just got done bein’ thrown ‘round by y’all,” Applejack said.

Colgate chuckled. “Ah, that’s true. I guess you don’t know, but Pinkie’s been hyping this thing since… gosh, Thursday? Whatever day things got fixed up. Thanks again, by the way.”

“It’s no problem,” Twilight said, blushing.

“I’m actually surprised you didn’t hear about this.”

“Pinkie is quite good at keeping things under wraps when she needs to,” Rarity said.

“Oh, Allie, get over here,” Colgate said, gesturing to a pale, lanky unicorn with a blue-streaked mane. “This is Allie Way; she’s the manager of the bowling alley.”

“Hey, I saw you at the mayor’s office,” she said; her voice was pleasant, but a little quiet, and they had to lean in to hear her over the party.

“You did?” Fluttershy asked.

“Yeah, I was in the crowd. I was the tall one with the blue mane.”

“Oh, I’m really sorry, but I don’t remember.”

“What do you think of the party?” Twilight asked.

“It’s pretty super,” Allie said nonchalantly.

“Allie said she’s thinking of getting some of this music to use for special occasions at the bowling alley,” Colgate said.

“I would have told them myself,” Allie said, and Colgate chuckled again. “Well, it’s a pleasure meeting you all. Well, you know.” She shrugged. “The five of you. I already saw Pinkie. Are you really leaving?”

“Yes indeed,” Rarity said.

“All ‘round Equestria,” Applejack said. She sounded a little excited.

Allie shook her head. “I can’t even imagine it. I’ve only been as far Baltimare myself.”

“Baltimare?” Applejack asked.

“Where I grew up.”

“That’s only on the northern tip of the Everfree Forest,” Twilight said.

“Yeah, not horribly far.” Allie looked back at the party, then leaned in and shook their hooves. “It was great meeting you all. Good luck out there. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She ran back into the center of the activity, her tall, angular body bopping and swiveling awkwardly to the music.

“She’s fun,” Colgate said. “Speaking of fun, I’m gonna go have some more. You take it easy, and good luck on your adventure.” Colgate followed Allie into the party, and like that, they were alone again.

“Ah s’pose we should go mingle too,” Applejack said.

“You go ahead,” Rainbow said.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us, Rainbow? You know it’ll help,” Twilight said.

“No, you go ahead,” Rainbow repeated, waving her hoof.

“Suit yourself.” Twilight walked into the crowd without a look back, Applejack and Rarity behind her.

“Aren’t you going, Fluttershy?” Rainbow asked.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so. I’ll stay here with you.”

Rainbow hmphed and looked past her at the wall, her scowl still firmly plastered to her face. Fluttershy studied her expression, wondering what was bothering her, but knowing not to press the issue, as Twilight had. Rainbow would bring it up when she was ready.

To pass the time, and alleviate the awkwardness of being stuck at a table with Rainbow, she looked around the room. Pinkie truly had outdone herself; streamers hung from every blank space of wall; confetti filled the air, floating like snow but never collecting on the floor; and balloons were tied to any piece of furniture that would have them. The music pulsed through the room like a heartbeat, and the whole room had been cleared to form a dance floor. Tables sat to the sides, bearing bowls or plates of party favors, all things Fluttershy had seen offered at the bakery before, and many she had tasted herself. There was a large table near the back with a giant punch bowl sitting in its center, a pair of ladle handles sticking out like long, narrow ears.

She could see Twilight and Rarity dancing back-to-back near one of the tables, and a group of ponies cheering them on. Rainbow sighed, but Fluttershy was too interested in the party to pay her any mind. The unicorns’ dances gradually became more hectic, and Rarity even stood up on her hind legs for a few seconds, eliciting a tremendous cheer from the circle of onlookers. Applejack soon joined the spectacle, adding her own rustic and unfitting style of dance to the mix. Fluttershy admired their courage.

She looked back at Rainbow, whose gaze had shifted a little toward Fluttershy. Her expression had changed too, from pensive and angry to disgusted. Fluttershy felt horrible for her, but resisted the urge to ask what was wrong.

“Oh my Celestia, Fluttershy, would you stop looking at me like that?” Rainbow said, stomping her hoof.

Fluttershy leaned away. “Oh, I’m sorry, Rainbow. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything.”

Rainbow looked at her, then down. “No, I’m sorry, Fluttershy. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

“It’s okay, Rainbow.”

There was a minute of silence, in which Rainbow appeared to be wrestling with her thoughts. “Twilight’s right,” she finally said.

“What do you mean?”

“I guess I am in a bad mood. It’s just so much happened in the last two days, you know?”

“Oh, Rainbow, I’m sorry. I know what you mean.”

Rainbow sighed. “It’s all this funeral business. I’ve never been to one, never even known anypony that died. Plus that Whooves dude. Two-faced, abandoning jackass.”

Fluttershy flinched at Rainbow’s strong language.

“And then today, the burial, and…” she sighed and leaned in a little closer; Fluttershy followed her example. “I really don’t like that unicorn that’s been hanging around with us lately, Colgate. She gives me a bad feeling.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s friendly and all, but she’s too… serious. I don’t trust her. And it feels like she’s hiding something.”

“Oh, but what would she hide?”

“I don’t know. That’s the problem. And where does she get off trying to figure out what we’re doing? She hardly knows us, and yet she’s trying to get us to tell her everything?”

“She doesn’t know how important it is, Rainbow. She’s just curious.”

“Too curious, if you ask me. And to top it all off, Pinkie just had to throw a party today.” Rainbow didn’t say why it upset her, but Fluttershy knew; Rainbow reveled in having a bad mood, and if somepony tried to pull her out, she would fight it the whole way.

“At least your home didn’t get destroyed,” Fluttershy said, offering a small smile.

Rainbow cringed. “Geez, Fluttershy. Way to make things sound even worse.”

“Sorry, Rainbow.”

“And another thing. I know I’m not showing it—none of us are, really—but I’m pretty scared about this whole thing. I mean, this is the fate of Equestria we’re talking about here.”

Fluttershy knew how rare it was for Rainbow to admit fear; she had caught her at a very vulnerable moment, and was careful in her response. “It’s only natural to be afraid sometimes, Rainbow Dash. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed. Well, okay, I am, but that’s not the problem. It’s just such a, a… huge thing, you know? How can we do this? I don’t even know where the Equestrian borders are, let alone what’s out there.”

“That’s why we’ve got to stick together,” Fluttershy said, nodding resolutely. “Don’t worry. We’re going to Canterlot first, and Princess Celestia will help us. We’ll all be fine, at least until then.”

“And what about after that?”

“We’ll just have to find out when we get there, I guess.”

Rainbow sighed. “I guess you’re right. I’m glad I can talk to you about this stuff, Fluttershy. I know Twilight means well, but she’s, well, too much of an egghead for this. She’d just read me something from one of her books. You know how to listen.”

Fluttershy smiled, and Rainbow smiled weakly back.

“Hey you two, why aren’t you enjoying the party?” Pinkie chirped, popping up from behind Rainbow.

“Oh, hi Pinkie. We’re having a fine time just sitting here and enjoying the music,” Fluttershy said.

“Oh, Fluttershy, you can’t have fun all alone like this! You need to get out there and shake things up!”

“Oh, no, Pinkie, I’m fine, thank you.”

“I can go for some shaking up,” Rainbow said, spreading her wings and looking around.

“That’s the spirit, Dashie! Let’s go!” She dragged Rainbow into the middle of the party, but before the pegasus disappeared from view, she met Fluttershy’s eyes and smiled; Fluttershy smiled back, happy that Rainbow was on her way back to normal.

As the party wore on, Fluttershy was the only consistency at the table; others visited her for minutes, but she always remained, content simply to watch ponies having a good time. The light from outside steadily deepened into a golden orange, and by seven o’ clock, the party was showing the unmistakable signs of reaching its conclusion. Ponies were slowing down their dancing and snacks were almost depleted, and Pinkie had long run out of punch to refill the bowl, which now lay empty with a tiny pool of purple liquid wobbling in the bottom.

The group slowly re-assimilated around the table, and Pinkie was bidding the ponies goodbye as they left. When they had all left, she surveyed the store. “Well, I’d say that was a success.”

The bakery had been reduced to a shamble of its former self. Streamers were lying on the ground in trampled tatters, confetti littered the tables and chairs and punchbowl, and the balloons had mostly migrated up into the upside-down bowl of the bakery ceiling. Tables were covered in crumbs and bowls were empty, and several chairs had been overturned. The floor was slick with sweat and sticky with punch.

Pinkie hummed a jaunty tune as she produced a broom and dustpan and began sweeping up the floor. Twilight busied herself with removing the streamers and balloons, and Rarity and Fluttershy cleared the tables and moved them back to their former spots. Before long, the bakery had been returned to normal, and they all stood in a circle, content and warm in the party’s afterglow, surveying their work with self-congratulatory smiles.

“We need to get back to the library,” Twilight said. “We have to leave.”

“Can’t we wait ‘til tomorrow morning?” Rainbow objected.

“Absolutely not. We’ve spent too much time here already, and while the party was really, very fun, Pinkie, we should have arrived in Canterlot by now.”

“Aw, Twilight, but we just had to have one last party!” Pinkie cried.

“I know, and it was a good idea, but…” She bit her lip, reluctant to finish the thought. She didn’t have to. They knew it, she could tell. Time to go.

“Well, let’s just go then,” Rarity said, opening the door.

And like that, they were out of the bakery and in the gloaming. Spike was on Twilight’s mind, suddenly and powerfully, and it was like the party hadn’t even happened. She thought of him with dread and sadness.

They entered the gnarled tree, where, as if in response to Twilight’s private worry, Spike waited for them, standing in the center of the room, his face serious and his arms crossed.

“Spike, I’m glad you’re here,” Twilight said. She didn’t completely mean it.

“I’m sure you are, Twilight.” His voice, like his face, was absent of its usual good humor.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you leaving tonight?”

“Um… yeah.”

“Then I’ll cut to the chase.” He began pacing. “Since Tuesday—Tuesday, Twilight—everything has been one big change after another. First, I wake up with a letter from the princess in the middle of the night, and you leave in the balloon an hour later. You didn’t explain, you just… left. I stayed up all night worrying about you all, and I didn’t hear anything until a few hours later, when the world just explodes. That’s what it sounded like to us all, you know. Like everything was coming undone all at once. I wanted to panic, but I didn’t, because I was too worried about you. Can you imagine that? I was so scared for you all that I didn’t think to be scared for myself, Twilight. Then you come back in a different balloon, but I only get to see you the next night, where you tell me that you were late ‘cause you almost died. But you’re better now, thank goodness, and I think that’s all there is to it.”

He took a moment to gather himself, tiny fists clenched and eyes angry. “But no, you have to leave Ponyville again, and I can’t come with you. So what do you do in the next few days? Spend time with your number one assistant, maybe? Nope. You just wander off into town and help out the ponies that hardly know you, ponies that ask for your help before asking for your name, and leave me alone for the whole day.”

His tiny jaw was trembling, and his eyes narrowed. “So I stay here and worry and wonder, and have nopony to talk to, unless I want to spill my guts in front of all of you at once.” He glared at Rarity. “Yeah, Rarity, I know they all know it.”

Rarity only looked down in shame.

“And then you tell me there’s a funeral, but I can’t go to that either because I have to watch the library. Right, Twilight? Gotta make sure nopony comes in and borrows a book without permission, right? Two more days out the window, for a stupid funeral that I can’t go to. What, am I too young?”

“Spike, I’m really sorry,” Twilight said.

“And then you pop in for a minute and leave again, and where this time? A party?” His voice rose. “I love Pinkie’s parties! I love you guys, and you’ve ignored me the whole time! Do you have any idea how many questions I have, or how freaked out I am? I don’t even know if I’ll be seeing my best friends again, and all you can think about is packing the right books.” His voice went back down, and he spoke with hard deliberation that made Twilight avert her eyes. “And now you’re about to leave.”

“Spike, I… I had no idea you felt that way,” Twilight said.

“Of course you didn’t, Twilight. You never do.”

Twilight searched for a response, but could only look at him.

“At this point, I don’t think I even want to hang out with you guys,” he said, shaking his head. “Just go. I’ll help you pack up.” He walked past them, out the door and up the gangplank to the airship. They followed him meekly.

“Spike, I want you to know that I truly am sorry for the way things worked out between us,” Rarity said. “Between us all. Can you ever forgive me?”

“That’s what friends are for, right?” he said, bored.

With his sullen help, they double-checked their bags; everything had been packed, and it was all arranged to Twilight’s taste. Satisfied, but nervous, they stood before Spike on the deck.

“This is the part where you go away,” he said, and they could only stare and nod, stunned by his outpouring of emotion. It made so much sense, but they hadn’t seen it. Until it was much too late. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later. Good luck out there.” He walked back down the plank and back into the library, closing the door softly behind him.

For several minutes, they watched the door, seeing whether he would come out again, and when he did not, they began getting ready for takeoff. They moved slowly and listlessly, as if in a trance, and no one spoke. Twilight stood at the ship’s back, letting tears silently leak out of her eyes while she mindlessly rummaged through her bags.

When the plank was raised, Pinkie turned on the torch, its roaring report polluting the reverent quiet on the deck. They rose slowly into the air, and Twilight leaned over the rail, watching, with blurry eyes, as the ground below her shrank. Just like before, they passed the library’s boughs, ascending into the darkness, toward what they had no idea.

As they lifted higher, a few ponies appeared to stand in their shadow, looking up at them and smiling; Twilight recognized Derpy and Colgate, both waving, among a couple others.

Eventually, the ponies became black splotches, and she looked out at the land before her. Staying in Ponyville had allowed her to forget the world outside, but now the startling realization of what they were facing once again hit her. Ponyville was a town on a sprawling disc of ground, floating amid smaller shreds of land that were scattered aimlessly in the empty sky.

There was a muffled roar behind and underneath her, and they surged forward. “Canterlot, here we come!” Pinkie cheered, and Twilight sighed.