Winter had come to Canterlot, and with it came the Hearth’s Warming Eve spirit. Snow, trees, candy canes and lights all festooned the town, while inside, ponies celebrated with family and friends from all across Equestria. It was a quintessentially pony holiday, held in a spirit of love and togetherness. Ponies spent the whole season waiting for that day, when they would gather around the fireplace with their loved ones and bask in that fleeing glow of universal affection.

Of course, the little foals and fillies of Canterlot had their own reasons for looking forward to the holiday.

“—and then Santa Hooves went to the pegasus village up the road, the reins clasped in his teeth. In the back were all the presents the unicorns had made, for all the little colts and fillies in Equestria.” Celestia read aloud from the storybook in front of her, as Twilight eagerly followed along. The two were curled up together in front of the fire, with a blanket draped over Celestia, and Celestia’s wing wrapped around Twilight. There, warm and toasty, they whiled the evening away.

“He knocked on the doors of every pegasus in town asking for help, but all turned him away, until he came to the public house. He found eight pegasi in that little run-down building, and their names were Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, and Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen.” Celestia spoke at a slow pace, savoring the warmth of the story, while Twilight raced ahead as she read along. The effect was that Twilight often finished first, left eager in anticipation as she waited for Celestia to turn the page, her little hooves eagerly shifting in place.

It was a bit unusual, for Twilight to spend Hearth’s Warming Eve with somepony other than her family. She was only seven, after all, and had barely been Princess Celestia’s student for six months. Her family didn’t ask, and Celestia didn’t offer, knowing that Twilight’s parents thought they saw far too little of her as it was. But as children sometimes do, Twilight invited herself, and under the weight of her repeated insistence, her elders gave. Twilight, it was agreed, could spend the holiday with Celestia, and Celestia would give her the following week off to spend with her family.

Twilight’s family was less than happy with this arrangement. In truth, Princess Celestia herself was a little embarrassed. But if Twilight was aware of such concerns at all, they had no power over her at that moment, tucked in under Celestia’s wing.

“And Santa Hooves said to them, ‘Won’t you help me pull my sleigh? It is full of toys for all the little colts and fillies of Equestria to celebrate Hearth’s Warming Eve. But the holiday is almost over, and I cannot deliver them all in time.’” The page before them was well illustrated, showing a rustic old inn and the eight rough-coated pegasi mares and stallions there. Twilight eagerly soaked up every bit of the story—words and pictures all.

“And when the pegasi asked him where he got so many toys, Santa Hooves answered that the unicorns had made them. The pegasi didn’t believe him at first—who had ever heard of unicorns laboring for an earth pony?” Celestia turned the page, showing a new illustration. This one depicted a little unicorn filly sticking her head out of a bag full of toys, to the surprise of all the ponies there.

“But then!” Celestia added a little rush of excitement to the words. “Elfie, the littlest helper, popped out of Santa Hooves bag! She had hidden inside to come and help deliver the toys, and the pegasi were so touched that they agreed to pull Santa Hooves’s sleigh.”

One final page turned, showing a sleigh flying over a beautiful snow-covered Equestria. “And so Santa Hooves and the pegasi and his little unicorn helper all flew across Equestria, bringing toys to all the little fillies and colts.”

Celestia turned to Twilight, lowering her head to nuzzle between Twilight’s ears. “And Santa Hooves is still at it to this day. That’s why, every year, we leave the flue open and let the fires burn down all night, so Santa Hooves and his little helper can bring their presents down out of the sky. And in the morning, when you wake up, they’ll be waiting for you right there.” Celestia pointed at the small tree that decorated one corner of her room.

Twilight had, of course, heard the story many times before, but it seemed to take on a new life when Princess Celestia read it, and Twilight found herself peering into the corner like the presents would appear before her eyes. “How does he deliver all the presents in one night?” Twilight asked, turning her head up to Celestia.

“Mmm?” Celesia perked up her ears, and smiled sweetly down at Twilight. “Haven’t you asked your parents that yet?”

“Yeah,” Twilight nodded. “But they just said it was magic and that I’d understand when I was older.”

“That’s because it is magic,” Celestia said, with just a hint of a conspiratorial smile. Twilight sat up at once, perking up her ears in anticipation of receiving some secret. “It’s the magic of Hearth’s Warming Eve. You’re a very bright little filly, Twilight. You know that magic isn’t just spells and wizardry. It’s the love that ponies feel for each other, and every year, that love lets Santa Hooves put presents under the trees of every little foal. Including you, Twilight.”

“I’m not a little foal,” Twilight insisted. “I’m seven.” Celestia laughed, but Twilight didn’t feel embarrassed.

“Seven and a half,” Celestia added. “Which means that in a year and a half, you’ll be nine. And do you know what’s special about nine?”

“That’s when I’ll understand Hearth’s Warming Eve magic?” Twilight asked hopefully.

“That’s when your parents said I had to have you in bed,” Celestia answered, pointing at the clock.

Twilight whirled to look at the clock, then looked back just as quickly. “Do I have to!?” she pleaded. “I mean, um, what if I stayed up? I could meet Santa Hooves and learn all about the magic of Hearth’s Warming Eve! That’s part of my magic studies, right?”

“Santa Hooves has a lot of deliveries to make tonight,” Celestia said, gently lifting her wing. All the hot air that had been trapped against Twilight’s body suddenly escaped, leaving her a little toasty ball of fuzz, shivering with the sudden feeling of cold. “I’m not sure he can stay and chat.” Celestia levitated the blanket off her back, wrapping it around Twilight. “But, I may have already mentioned you when I was talking to him.”

“You did!?” Twilight asked, her little eyes going wide. It suddenly seemed obvious to her that Celestia would know Santa Hooves—she was a princess after all—but it had not occurred until that precise moment just what Celestia might say about her, and her little heart hoped with all its might it was good.

“Of course,” Celestia said. “After all, I had to tell him you’d be here tonight instead of with your parents. We wouldn't want your gift arriving at your family’s house. He even showed me what he’s getting y...” Celestia pulled her head away. “I mean, what he’s getting your brother.”

“You know what I’m getting,” Twilight said, with sudden realization.

“Oh, no. Santa Hooves never tells,” Celestia insisted, but Twilight noticed she’d just discreetly crossed two of her feathers.

“You do know!” she squeaked, rising to her hooves and dragging the blanket along with her. “What is it what is it what is it?”

“Oh, I couldn't possibly,” Celestia demurred, folding her forehooves together, watching as Twilight gave an eager little hop.

“Tell me tell me tell me!” she squeaked, lifting her forehooves to rest them on Celestia’s chest. Though Twilight was standing and Celestia sitting, Twilight barely came to her shoulders. Celestia only smiled in return.

“I’m sorry, Twilight, but I promised Santa Hooves I wouldn't tell,” Celestia said with a note of finality. “The only way you’re going to find out what you got is to go to sleep and see in the morning.”

Twilight let out a long groan, but it was to no avail, and Celestia started to nudge her towards the door. “Come along, Twilight,” Celestia said. “A young filly like you needs her sleep.”

Celestia lead Twilight up the hall to her room, tucked her in, and wished her goodnight. Twilight lay tossing and turning in bed for a time, straining to hear any possible sounds that might indicate Santa Hooves’s arrival. A small crack of light shone from under the door, but it revealed nothing, and the door muffled sound equally well.

Eventually, Twilight reluctantly gave up. She lay back in bed, and conjured a sheet of inky shadows, which rested over her eyes and blocked the light from the door. Darkness helped her sleep, and slowly, gradually, she drifted away.

“—and then I saw Shining sneaking up on one of the other cadets with a huge snowball,” Twilight said, eagerly gesturing as Princess Luna listened. “And I shouted for him to stop, because he doesn’t want to get on the naughty list right before Hearth’s Warming Eve. But I think the other cadet heard me, because he turned around, and he also had a huge snowball. And he threw it!”

Luna watched impassively, listening from her throne as Twilight went on. “But Shining managed to get a shield up just in time, and then suddenly, all the cadets were throwing snowballs at each other!” She mimicked the motion with her hooves. “Swoosh swoosh, splat!” Luna nodded, and Twilight laughed. “Yeah, it was great, and um,” she paused. “Actually...”

Twilight’s gaze slowly circled the space around her. She stood in what seemed to be a vast apple orchard late at night, the stars and moon high overhead. But a strange sort of orchard it was. The grass around her was a pale grey, and the trees grew with their branches in the ground and their roots in the sky. The apples, embedded in the earth, shone a faint greet, and illuminated pathways that ran through the trees. And of course, there was Luna—sitting on an imposing throne made from twisted and jagged farm implements. “Um,” Twilight said. “Actually, where am I?”

“You are in the dream realm,” Luna said.

“Oh,” Twilight said. “How did I get here?”

“You come here every night,” Luna said. “Normally, I teach you magic, but tonight you seemed very eager to talk about your day. You seem very eager about this ‘Hearth’s Warming Eve’ festival.”

Twilight had no recollection of ever having been here before, but something about the place did feel familiar. And something about Luna felt familiar as well, such that Twilight was not afraid, even though she was with a stranger in a strange place. She started to nod, but something in Luna’s words caught her attention.

“Wait,” she asked, “You don’t know about Hearth’s Warming Eve?”

“Several other ponies have mentioned it in their dreams,” Luna said. “But I have been away from Equestria for nearly a thousand years. Many of its customs are strange to me now.”

“But if you’ve been to Equestria,” Twilight said, “you must know about Hearth’s Warming Eve. Santa Hooves was there from the very first year.”

“Who?” Luna asked.

“Santa Hooves,” Twilight repeated.

“I do not know that name,” Luna said. “Who is this mare or stallion?”

“He’s the pony who brings toys to all the little colts and fillies of Equestria,” Twilight explained eagerly. “Ever since the first year of Equestria, when he brought toys to all the ponies who didn’t have any because they’d just made the long migration.”

“I was present for Equestria’s first year of settlement,” Luna stated, “and I do not recall these events.”

“You must have missed him,” Twilight insisted. “Everypony knows about Santa Hooves. He drops presents down everypony’s chimneys every Hearth’s Warming Eve. Last year, he got me a book of puzzles and an entire stocking full of candy.”

“And he does this for everypony in Equestria?” Luna asked, her voice still even.

“Well... yeah,” Twilight said. “He gets Shining and Cadence and my school friends something every year too.”

“It was my impression that Equestria’s population had grown quite large in my absence,” Luna said. “Well beyond hundreds of thousands. That seems like a considerable number of toys for one stallion to deliver in the course of a single festival. Unless I have misunderstood, and the festival lasts for many months?”

“No, he delivers them all in one night,” Twilight said. “But he uses magic.”

“Oh?” Luna asked. “What sort?”

“The magic of Hearth’s Warming Eve!” Twilight said, with a proud little kick. She learned something from Celestia tonight, and she was eager to show it off.

“I see,” Luna said. “Does this magic manufacture the presents and teleport them into ponies’ homes directly?”

“Um, no,” Twilight said, her eagerness faltering. “Unicorn helpers make the presents.”

“So the magic only teleports them?” Luna asked.

“No,” Twilight said again. “Santa Hooves delivers them. I told you that.”

“So, how does the magic assist?” Luna asked.

“It um...” Twilight paused. “It makes his pegasus team faster.” Thinking quickly, she remembered something her parents had told her once. “And it helps Elfie float all those presents down narrow chimneys! She’s his unicorn helper.”

“But he still delivers the presents one at a time?” Luna pressed. “Presenting them to his assistant individually for levitation down chimneys?

“Well, maybe it makes them faster at handing out presents too!” Twilight insisted, her tone turning a touch defensive. “You don’t know!”

“Very well,” Luna said, tapping her chin. “So the magic of Hearth’s Warming Eve bestows supernatural quickness upon a team of pegasi, superlative dexterity upon Santa Hooves, and shrinking and levitation abilities upon ‘Elfie,’ letting them fly all across Equestria and hand out presents with otherwise impossible speed. Is that correct?”

“Yes!” Twilight said firmly, giving a sharp nod. She didn’t like this conversation, and she was pleased it was finally over with.

Luna thought about that for a moment. “Do they ever leave ashes on the rug?”

“What?” Twilight asked.

“Ashes,” Luna repeated herself. “From the chimney. Do the presents ever leave ashes on the rug or the floor?”

“What?” Twilight asked again. “No! I mean, yes. I mean, maybe.” She squirmed in place, turning her gaze off and to the side. “I don’t know. I don’t clean the rug.” After a moment she snorted and lashed her tail, finding a second wind to raise her head and glare at Luna. “I don’t know anyway. I’m a filly. Only big ponies can understand the magic of Hearth’s Warming Eve. Princess Celestia and my parents told me!” For reasons Twilight did not fully understand, she stomped a hoof. “So there!”

“Ah,” Luna said. “Why didn’t you just say so in the first place?” Then her horn shone.

Snap went the chains across Twilight’s sides, pulling her yoke taut, digging the wood and metal into her flesh, steel links rolling like waves and then shaking like violin strings with their tension. The evening wind wailed around her, piercing through barding and coat and muscle and bone. Leather straps made from the enemies of the pegasus race went taught around her rear legs, pulling into her flesh and cutting off her circulation, until her hinds felt nothing but motion. Across her front was no leather, but straps of a weaker Equestrian cord, made in an era without enemies. Already, they were fraying under the repeated wear of her yoke.

Despite the cold, her coat was soaked with sweat, and her muscles burned as she lowered her head into the driving wind. Push screamed her body, wings and legs and shoulders all. Pull bellowed her chains, as every muscle worked. Legs ran in the empty air and wings beat into the storm, guiding the rest of the team, pulling ever forward.

Strange thoughts ran in Twilight’s head, but they were the thoughts of a mare. Adult thoughts. Deep and focused, driven to the distant lights of Canterlot before her, she thought only of the motion. She did not know why a pegasi had to move their hooves in the air to pull a cart. She did not know what magic let her feel the weight sleigh hovering so far behind her. But she did have to move her hooves, and she felt the strain of the load, and she knew that if that strain exceeded her strength, and her hooves failed to move, the sleigh would fall.

And then nopony in Canterlot would get their presents.

She had the forward left. The dominant driving position. The place of honor. Usually Dasher’s place—now hers. She drove the team, she set the pace, and it was she who felt the telltale twisting of the chains that warned the sled was out of alignment. In theory, Dancer was there beside her to take the load and to catch her if she missed something. But no good pegasus flies on their safety net.

“Delivery!” called the voice from the sled. That old, wise earth pony voice. “Sharp descent!”

A sharp descent? No, Twilight thought, that was all wrong. They weren't even at the edge of Canterlot yet. She wasn’t thinking of starting a shallow descent for at least another half mile. But again, the order came, and she descended, twisting the team through the wailing snow. Out of the gloom of ice and fog came the side of the mountain, and the train tracks, and there by the side of the rails, a tiny cabin. With a chimney.

Of course.

“Heel!” she called, and the team came to a sharp stop, hovering just above the roof. The source of that old, wise voice pulled a gift from his giant bag, and then Twilight heard the gentle whistle of magic. There was nothing to do then but wait for Elfie to finish. On a bigger roof, the team would take the chance to rest, but here they had no such luxury. The mountain slope produced brutal crosswinds, and the sleight and team twisted in place as their wings beat in place, trying to hold station over the little roof.

Twilight felt the twist in the chains. Twenty degrees, perhaps. The sleigh, bottom heavy, could get well past forty-five before it was in serious danger of tipping. But when she looked at her team, particularly Dancer, she saw too much exhaustion there. It would tip further if this kept up.

But then, the whistling stopped. “Onward!” the old voice called. Twilight repeated the direction a moment later, and the team took off. She hoped to head straight to Canterlot then, but it was not to be. Too many houses dotted the edge. Railponies, game wardens, pegasi who favored mountain homes. Each one had to be visited, and each one left them in the brutal crosswinds just a few minutes longer.

It was a longhouse that offered them the first chance to rest for the night. The team touched down, coming to a halt as their hooves slid on the ice. Twilights wing’s burned so much it hurt to fold them, but beside her, Dancer simply collapsed, falling to the roof as he heaved for breath.

“Get up!” Twilight snarled, twisting through her chains to grab him, wrapping her leg about him and heaving him to his hooves. His body was soaked, and she could feel the heat radiating off him, carrying with it a pungent scent of sweat and musk. “Come on, we’re almost there. We just need to get into Canterlot and then it’s all gentle winds and big roofs.”

Dancer struggled to his feet, but no sooner had Twilight released him than the sweat he left on her body started to freeze. The wind affected more than just their stability, and when she twisted her neck, she could see some of the others starting to shake.

“Onward!” went the cry from the rear, and Twilight again spurred into motion. No. It would be okay. They could do it. Canterlot was just ahead. That would give them a chance to rest. Already, they were climbing the mountain slopes. Just Canterlot. Then, once they recovered, Manehatten. And then Fillydelphia. They could do it.

Then the team crested the mountain, and in the blizzard, Twilight could see Canterlot, with its thousands and thousands of glittering lights, and icicles hanging from its waterfalls. It was close now. It was so close.

“Sharp descent!” called the voice in the rear, pointing to a shack on the edge of the approaching trail, a little column of smoke twisting out of its chimney. Twilight saw the line of houses leading up to the city. Hundreds before they even hit the walls. She felt a lump forming in her throat.

In that moment, she knew her task to be madness.

And then Twilight started to cry.

Her barrel shook, she lowered her head, and finally, her eyes watered. She didn’t know where she was. She didn’t know if she was a unicorn or a peagsus or a mare or a filly. She didn’t know what she was doing there, or what she was supposed to be doing. A feeble whine escaped her, and hot tears ran down her cheeks.

“Enough of that,” Luna commanded, and Twilight’s head jerked up at the sharp command. Through the blur of tears, she could see she was back in the orchard, but now it was different. Glass monoliths covered in strange designs stuck out of the ground at random, bizarre angles, and Luna sat before her on a throne that resembled the skeleton of a barn. From that throne Luna descended, approaching Twilight and taking her by the shoulder.

“Now,” she asked, looking Twilight in the eye. “Why are you crying?”

“B-because,” Twilight blubbered. “It’s not true! None of it’s true! I was a mare and I didn’t understand the magic of Hearth’s Warming Eve at all! It’s impossible!”

“Calm thyself, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna commanded. Her horn glowed, and a gentle force reached up to wipe Twilight’s eyes free of tears. “Nothing in this world is impossible, and you have never been a mare.”

“W-what?” Twilight asked, tilting her head up as Luna pressed under her chin. Though she still sniffled, her tears slowed. “Yes, I was! I was pulling Santa Hooves’s sleigh! I was a pegasus!”

“You were a unicorn filly,” said Luna, “dreaming she was a pegasus mare.”

“W-what?” Twilight asked, and Luna quietly sighed.

“Consider,” Luna said gently, “in your dream, did you have unnaturally swift flight? Did Santa Hooves have the power to whisk a gift down a chimney in a fraction of a second?” It only occurred to Twilight when Luna asked that neither thing had been the case. In fact, while being a mare had given her many strange feelings, she’d seemed to be an ordinary pegasus.

“What you saw,” Luna said, “was an illusion. An image of things that never occurred. There is great and ancient magic in this world, and so I do not know if Santa Hooves is real. Perhaps there truly is a stallion who gives presents to the little colts and fillies of the world once a year.”

“Then why did you show me that!?” Twilight shouted, her voice wrenching.

“Because you do not know if Santa Hooves is real either,” Luna answered.

“My parents wouldn't lie to me!” Twilight shouted. “Princess Celestia wouldn't lie to me!”

“Do you honestly believe that is true?” Luna asked.

“Yes!” screamed Twilight. Luna said nothing, and continued to stare. “Yes!” Twilight repeated. “Yes I do yes I do yes I do!” Still, Luna said nothing. “Stop it!” she screamed.

Into the silence, Twilight spoke with a shaky voice. “There’s no reason they’d do that.”

“Perhaps Celestia wanted to give you a gift herself,” Luna suggested. “And was worried you wouldn’t like it.”

“That’s stupid,” Twilight insisted, folding her ears back. “You’re stupid. I hate dreaming!”

“It was not my intention to hurt you,” Luna said, only to earn a defiant glare from Twilight. “Merely to teach you something very important.”

“Well I didn’t learn anything and it was awful!” Twilight huffed, turning sharply away from Luna. Luna nodded and fell quiet.

Then, a little while later, she asked: “How did you find being a mare?”

“It was... weird,” Twilight said. “I felt really big, and strong, and I just knew all this stuff. It made my thoughts really deep. And work felt funny. Like, not exciting, but good in a way I can’t explain?” She tapped her hoof on the ground. “Is that how it’ll feel when I grow up?”

“Partially,” Luna said, stepping up to Twilight’s side. “There were things I excluded from the dream—emotions you’re not ready for—but I tried to make it as true as possible. Adults thoughts are very different from those of children.”

“Yeah, there were slower, but like, really quick at the same time?” she said, looking for the words. “Like there was this big catalog of thoughts I’d already thought so I didn’t have to think them again and it made thinking easier. And I knew all this stuff about flying but I can’t remember it now.”

“True knowledge takes careful study,” Luna said. “Wisdom granted by magic is always temporary.”

“Really?” Twilight asked. She started to look at Luna curiously, and then sharply looked aside. “I mean. I didn’t know that.”

“It is a rule of magic known as Starswirl’s Fifth Principle,” Luna explained. “I can show you if you’d like. It’s actually very easy to prove.”

From the ground nearby, Luna procured a stick, and began to sketch lines in the dirt, speaking as she drew. Twilight looked sharply away, a set jaw and upturned muzzle snubbing the crude illustrations.

But as time passed, the stick turned to chalk and the dirt to rock. The orchard became a palace, and the throne of wood a flowering tree of knowledge. The dream world, mutable and unstable, shifted wildly at its master’s will, but Twilight and Luna remained unchanged, fixed in their distance from each other. Luna never changed from her dispassionate cadence, and never drew closer to Twilight.

So, eventually, Twilight drew closer to her, and came to rest by her side. There she remained, until the sun rose.

The next morning, Twilight awoke with no recollection of her dreams, and less care for them. She shot out of bed, racing up the hall to Princess Celestia’s room. The door was already open, and there under the tree, Twilight found two boxes waiting for her. With eager hooves she ripped the first box open, and inside, found a new magical tome. It was an old book, the sort usually kept behind glass,more a thing of magic than just about magic. Twilight knew it was a precious thing to give to a child and she actually squealed with delight, hugging it to her chest as Princess Celestia smiled and watched on.

But then, a strange mood overtook Twilight, and for some reason she did not understand, she suddenly felt melancholy. With slower movements, she looked under the tree, and found the second box. This one was labeled for Smarty Pants, and inside, Twilight found a little quill and notebook.

“Is something wrong, Twilight?” Celestia asked, noticing the sudden change in her student’s disposition. Twilight paused before answering.

“No,” she said. “I just like the little quill Santa Hooves got me.” She paused, and then added, “And I really like the book you got me.”

Celestia paused a moment.

“Happy Hearth’s Warming Day, Twilight,” she said, and the two embraced.