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Canterlot Gardens. February 12th. Year 2 of the New Free Equestrian Calendar.

Canterlot’s gardens had always been a quiet, respectful place. Even with the statues lining them, one always felt alone there: as though one were in a place of tranquility.

The Battle of Canterlot had robbed them of much of that - a great deal of the grounds had been burnt up, fought over or destroyed during the fighting. Solamina herself had fought on these grounds, as had Commander Sparkle, the necromantic abomination of Luna, and a contingent of Archmagi - and the Avatar, of course, had died here. His sword was still embedded in the stone it had been planted in, guarded by a small contingent of Knights of Albion.

In a quiet, private part of a garden, there stood a statue. At the hooves of this statue was a broken glaive and a discarded crown, and the figure itself was that of an Alicorn. She was looking to the sky, an expression of serenity and nobility upon her face, her wings outstretched and her mane flowing behind her. A cutie mark of the sun was on display, as it should be.

Beneath the statue was a single line.

“One brief shadow cannot drown the sun.”

Gloriana Regalia Celestia, Princess of the Adamantine Line.

Prince Blueblood liked coming here. It was peaceful: a far cry from the city’s bustle and the worried crowds of military officials. He’d left Dinky and his old friend Fancy Pants in charge for a few hours while he came down here to think. The day was overcast, as per the scheduling, but he didn’t mind that. A little rain had never hurt anypony - back in the old days, he might have balked at ruining his styled mane, but he’d ruined it in battle with far worse things than water. After that, a little rain wasn’t really that much of a big deal.

Besides, he’d lived in Britain - rain was a familiar friend.

It was strange, he thought, looking up at the statue of his Aunt, seeing in her face all the wisdom and kindness that he remembered. A lot of ponies had wanted to create a more public memorial - actually, a lot had wanted to hang her body on a spike as a punishment to her corpse. That wasn't right, though - what had happened to Celestia when she became Solamina…

… well, it wasn't something any of them really understood.

But she had been Celestia far longer than she had been Solamina. To create a memorial for Celestia that only acknowledged the few years she spent as a tyrant would have been a grave injustice, one Blueblood was not prepared to let by.

He had needed to have the grave placed here, in secret. Had the public known, there would have been riots - ponies would have destroyed the statue, defaced it, and despite everything she had done, Blueblood couldn’t have allowed that.

“Hello Auntie,” he said quietly. “I know I haven’t been to visit for a long time. I’ve been… preoccupied.”

There’s an understatement, he thought wryly.

“There’s a lot of mess going on in Equestria, still,” he continued. He grimaced. “You - that is, Solamina - left us a lot to clean up. The Remnant are still being a pain. We’ve had to dispatch additional troops to stop them.” He paused. “I… I wish you were here. I could use your advice.”

The statue said nothing, the beatific face staring up at the sky unchanging.

Blueblood sighed. “Am I doing the right thing? Am I doing right by Equestria, by continuing?”

He waited for a moment, almost as though waiting for a reply - but obviously, there was nothing. He sighed, looking away forlornly.

“I don’t have a choice, though, do I?” he asked. “I have to lead us. I’m all that’s left, apart from Cadence, but our people wouldn’t accept her: not after she supported… well, supported you.” He looked up at the statue again. “But… I don’t know if I can do this, Auntie.”

The statue remained impassive.

“I don’t know if I can be the leader these ponies deserve,” he continued unabated. “I don’t know if I can have the strength to be their rock, like you were - to be their symbol, like you were. You led the ponies of Equestria for millennia, and they would have followed you into hell.” He snorted derisively. “You could say they did.” He sobered, looking up at her again. “Auntie… how can I be this? How can I lead?”

The statue had no answer for him, and he had never really expected it to, much as he wished there was some way he could hear some echo of her, some whisper of advice.

“Well, then,” he said softly. “I guess I should just carry on. Do my best, and hope that is enough.”

Perhaps it was coincidence, or perhaps not - it could just as easily have been an error in the weather-team’s work - but as he said that, there was a brief break in the clouds, and a light shone over the statue. For a brief moment, the white marble seemed to shine, and he could almost believe he was standing before the real Celestia again. His eyes widened in shock.

And then the clouds covered the Sun again, and he was left alone with the statue. And yet… now he felt more at peace.

“Goodbye Auntie,” he said softly. “Sleep well.”

He turned and left the statue alone. He had a lot of work to do, after all.

Author's Notes:

Surprise!