Fluttershy spent the next two weeks in a thick haze—it was like being frozen in a block of ice. She still couldn’t believe what she’d done. She didn’t think she ever would be able to come to terms with what she’d done to Little Mint. But even with the heavy weight on her shoulders, Fluttershy knew she couldn’t give up, not as long as her friends were still trying to get to the bottom of everything.

Thankfully, Fluttershy managed to make it through the last two weeks without incident—there were one or two ponies here and there that were resistant now that her assignments were getting more difficult. Blanche mentioned that they were going to be—it was obvious now that The Ever, whatever it was, had been going easy on her.

But today was the one day off she figured she’d ever be granted—Blanche refused to let her forget the caliber of strings he was pulling. Today was different from the rest. Putting on her cape didn’t make Fluttershy feel heavier, pulling the hood tight around her head didn’t make her skin crawl. Even the sky seemed a brighter shade of blue.

Today was the day her friends would set her free.

Blanche had been telling her sporadically not to get her hopes up, that plenty of ponies had tried to combat The Ever before, and that every single time they’d failed, but Fluttershy didn’t care. No matter what the stallion said, there was one thing Fluttershy knew; her friends refused to accept failure. If it took them the rest of their lives, they’d get her back.

Twilight’s research into The Ever was sparse at best…and yet, it intrigued the curious purple pony and drove her further—she wanted to explore the possibility that Fluttershy was forced into becoming Death, but her pride and integrity were at stake. She couldn’t bring that theory to Celestia—it’d make her seem like a madmare. Besides, to her, it was still just an old legend, for the moment.

Pinkie’s cake was finally finished and ready to be unveiled at Sugarcube Corner once they returned from their appointment. As predicted, it was ridiculously huge, with layers of dripping chocolate, gobs of fluffy whipped cream, and crunchy, yummy sprinkles liberally applied in the shape of stars, animals, and whatever other fun shapes came to mind.

Unfortunately, they’d been the only ones really preparing for everything—Rarity and Applejack worked, and Rainbow Dash practiced flying when she wasn’t lazing around.

But today, they’d all make the trip to Canterlot and meet with Celestia, whom Fluttershy knew was going to help them—the political feud theory was a dead end, of course, and the princess would know that, but she’d probably pull Twilight aside after the official business was conducted and let her know what was really going on.

With her day secured and death-free, Fluttershy zapped herself over to Canterlot posthaste—the Elements left several hours ago, and it was about time for them to arrive.

Sure enough, there they were, all wrapped up in winter gear. They looked tired, Fluttershy noticed—the trip must’ve taken its toll on them, or perhaps it was the task ahead of them. She didn’t envy them—none of them were expecting perfect answers, considering how long they’d been looking without any results, but if anypony could fill them in, it would be Celestia.

Canterlot seemed quiet, dead; ponies weren’t out in the streets playing, they weren’t calling ponies into their shops, and they weren’t chatting with their usual reservation on every corner—the heavy snowfall saw to that. Fluttershy could see candlelight in the windows on either side of the group as they passed through, and the wispy silhouettes of the ponies inside, moving animatedly as they told stories. Happy as the aura inside was, Fluttershy couldn’t help but look at her friends, shivering as they moved slowly along the street, and compare it to a vigil.

“Twilight.” Applejack’s voice broke the silence. “Are you sure about this? That train back to Ponyville ain’t left yet, and it’s like I told you, Celestia probably ain’t got any more information than we do, or she’d have told you. I got as much faith in her as the next pony, but…I get the feeling we’re gonna be disappointed.”

Twilight shook her head. “This is all we’ve got left, AJ,” she said, “I’ll admit I don’t feel very good about it myself, but it’s all we’ve got left. If the Princess can’t tell us anything, well…then we’ve only got one theory to work with, and it’s a crackpot theory at best.” She looked up at the high, stony towers jutting up from the castle. “Poor Fluttershy…whatever happened to her, I hope Celestia can help us get her back…she’s probably out there somewhere, crying her eyes out.”

Fluttershy smiled—she hadn’t cried for a while now, of course, but Twilight knew her too well—if she’d been capable, she’d have cried for everything she was worth, but her tears dried up a long, long time ago.

“Yeah,” came Applejack’s voice, “I can’t imagine what it must be like for her—I did okay for myself, the couple of times we’ve gotten separated, but…I remember it hurting a lot. Fluttershy must feel like the whole darn world fell apart on her.”

Rarity closed her eyes a moment. “I don’t know what I’d do without you all…it scares me to even think about it! Whatever happens here, we have to find a way to retrieve Fluttershy, no matter what.”

“Yeah!” Dash shouted, taking to the air for a few moments, “We’ll get out there and kick whatever took Fluttershy to the curb, make it run home crying to its mommy!” She pressed her hooves together and ground them. “Nopony takes Fluttershy and gets away with it!”

Pinkie was the last to speak. “I just hope they didn’t ruin her appetite—I don’t think just the five of us can finish that cake!” That elicited a few laughs, even from Fluttershy—Pinkie always knew how to lift everypony’s spirits.

Unfortunately, even Pinkie couldn’t dispel the heavy atmosphere of the castle.

The doors, so gigantic and inviting before, now seemed to bar them with their size, the massive slabs of oak looming over them, further darkening the ground around them—it almost felt like nighttime, standing there.

The guards, stoic as ever, almost seemed to have an aura of malice about them—their wing-blades looked sharper, blue eyes like chips of ice which never stopped staring; hard, gold-colored gauntlets on their hooves. The heavy air was too much for the group to handle, and they swiftly retreated inside.

Even there, they couldn’t find any comfort. The way the temperature shifted so extremely from freezing cold to burning warmth made them shift uncomfortably. The chandeliers, carpets, vases, jars, jugs and pots, even the massive stained glass window at the top of the stairs—the entire castle was screaming out against them, roaring at them to leave.

There was no welcome for them here.

“Geez,” Dash piped up, trying not to let the unease in her voice show through, “Didja see the looks those guards were giving us? They looked more serious than ever. Talk about a bad welcome. Don’t they know we’re here to see the Princess?”

The jibe got by Twilight, who was too focused on maintaining her composure to notice it. “They knew,” she said, “I rarely come here anymore unless it’s on official business…they had to have known. I hate to say it, but…I’m not sure the Princess even wants us here.”

Pinkie raised an eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by the environment, for the most part. “But you’re Celestia’s number one mare!” she said, “Why wouldn’t she want to see you?”

Twilight bit her lip, swallowing hard. “Isn’t it obvious?” She said, fear thickening her voice, “We’re poking our noses into something that we weren’t ever meant to know…something even the Princess is scared of. She doesn’t want to address the issue because, well…” Twilight stopped. Fluttershy bit her lip; it couldn’t be possible. There wasn’t anything out there more powerful than Celestisa, was there? There couldn’t be! Not even the Ever!

“I fear Twilight may be correct,” Rarity said, “I’m certain I’m not the only one who has noticed how unwelcome we are here. The guards wouldn’t greet us, the town was quiet…everything simply feels wrong.”

“…let’s just keep going,” Applejack said, looking up the vast stairs, “Ain’t gonna figure nothing out standing around here talking.”
With that, they started up the stairs, trying to ignore the chilly wind blowing down on them from above. Fluttershy stayed close behind—was this dramatic irony? Knowing that something bad was about to happen but not being able to stop it?

The walk to Celestia’s throne room was no more inviting than the foyer had been—long, cold hallways despite the candles, stoic guards on every corner, a thick, heady, foreboding feeling weighing each of the Elements down…even Fluttershy felt it. Celestia invited them in, true, but every inch of the castle rejected them.

Even seeing Celestia couldn’t calm Fluttershy. The Princess was seated on her throne, a calm, radiant expression on her face, but it felt fake, surrounded by so much bad atmosphere.

“Twilight Sparkle,” the Princess said cheerily, “I see you’ve brought your friends with you as well.”

Twilight nodded—her legs were visibly locked to keep from shaking. “Yes, Princess,” she said, “The matter I sent you a letter about a month ago, well…they helped me do the majority of the research.”

Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Research? You didn’t mention anything about research in your letter.” A searching expression crossed her face. “…what is this matter you wanted to discuss with me, Twilight?”

Fluttershy’s chest tightened. “Well, Princess,” Twilight said, managing to keep her voice even, “It’s just that, well…we were curious about the political state of affairs around the area.”

“What she means is ‘are we at war’ or something?” Dash spoke up, floating in midair, “Fluttershy left, and wouldn’t tell us where she was going. We thought maybe she was some kinda…” she trailed off awkwardly, the implication hanging bitterly in the air.

Celestia stopped a moment—something crossed her face in an instant. Was it fear? “There is no cause for concern about that,” she said, her tone suddenly growing cold, “Fluttershy left for her own reasons, I can assure you of that.”

Dash’s expression turned hard, and she opened her mouth to shout, but Applejack’s hoof clapped over it.

“Sorry, Princess, we don’t mean to seem, uh…forward? But that ain’t really tellin’ us much. Did Fluttershy send you a letter or something?”

“Yeah!” Dash yelled, breaking free, “Don’t tell me you just read her mind!”

Celestia eyes flashed—cold rage. “No, she wrote me no letters,” she said, her voice icy, “And do not speak to me like that. I realize this situation is emotionally trying for you all, but there is nothing to be done about it. That is all there is to it.”

Fluttershy’s jaw moved uselessly for a few moments—they’d made the walk all the way here, and Celestia was telling them there was nothing to be done about it?! That couldn’t be possible!

“But Princess,” Twilight said, desperation clear in her voice, “We…Fluttershy is our friend! Wasn’t it you who sent me out to Ponyville in the first place to try and make new friends? I’ve enjoyed my time with all of them greatly…how can you say there’s nothing to be done? She can’t just be gone!”

“Yeah!” Pinkie piped up, “Fluttershy’s so nice, and sweet, and kind, and she takes really good care of animals, and she always does her best when we need help, and—”

Rarity’s hoof cut her off. “I apologize, Princess, but I believe we are in the right here. Fluttershy is very dear to us, you understand, and we don’t want to be demanding, but she’s a part of our lives now—it’s unfair to withhold information.”

Twilight looked up at Celestia, swallowing hard. “Please, Princess…you’ve seen how much Fluttershy taught me about the magic of friendship…I want to keep learning from her.”

Celestia was visibly perturbed. Twilight was really getting under her skin…at least, so far as Fluttershy could tell. The pegasus’ heart was swelling—her friends cared enough about her enough to almost openly defy the Princess…

“You will keep learning, Twilight,” Celestia said, her tone softening, “I promise you that.” She looked down and over the group and, just for a moment, Fluttershy swore those bright, cold eyes of hers stopped right where she stood. “But you’ll have to keep learning from your other friends.” Fluttershy’s heart sank into her stomach. “There is no war, and Fluttershy is not a political prisoner. She left, and by doing so, taught you an extremely important lesson about friendship, Twilight—one that, in the future, I hope you’ll remember.”

Twilight looked up from where she’d been staring at the floor. “…what’s that, Princess?” Her voice sounded a million miles away.

“Sometimes friends leave…and they hurt you. No pony stays around forever.”

Dash couldn’t contain herself anymore. Her gritted teeth parted in a high-pitched, tremulous shout, filling the whole audience chamber.

“You just don’t want to help us because you’re hiding something! Friends don’t just up and take off! Whatever you’re hiding, tell us!”

Everything went silent. It was like the room suddenly froze over—nopony dared to make a move. Dash stood there, quaking with rage even as the realization of what she’d just done hit her full-force. The other Elements, behind her, were all agape.

Celestia’s face was a mask of fury, but there was something else—a twinge of grief. She shut her eyes for a few moments, swallowing hard.

“Leave.” She said, lacking any waver of emotion in her voice.

Dash’s mouth slowly opened, flapping, but nothing came out.

“Princess…” Twilight said, on the verge of tears, “Please, don’t…”

Celestia’s head snapped up, deliberately avoiding Twilight’s eyes. “Go. Now. You’ll receive a letter from me later, Twilight. Don’t expect pleasantries—and next time, your friends need to keep their tone even.”

The guards arrayed around Celestia moved forward, stern expressions on their faces as Twilight and the Elements backed away, dejected, defeated.

When her friends were finished filing out of the room, Fluttershy walked over to where Celestia sat, hoping to overhear something important.

“Please forgive me, Twilight,” the alicorn said under her breath, “but there were things ponykind was not meant to know.”

At that, the Princess left the room, a thoroughly anguished look on her face.

Fluttershy felt sick. Her friends had traveled all this way, taken the time out of their lives, been so hopeful that the Princess would help them…and this was what it amounted to.

There was nothing more for them here.

Opting to take the train home, the Elements were silent the entire way. They weren’t just defeated, they were broken; the most powerful pony in all Equestria, and she turned them away, nearly berated them.

“Twilight, remember what you said before?” Rarity piped up, looking across from her to where the purple pony sat. Her voice quavered with false confidence. “About how Fluttershy…might have become Death?”

Twilight looked up from under her bangs—there was nothing in her eyes, flat and purple. “Mmm,” she grunted—her voice was barely above a whisper.

Rarity forced a smile, one full of sullenness. “You said that, should this fail…it was all we’d have left to turn to, didn’t you?”

Twilight shut her eyes, mouth turning down at the corners. “…sure,” she said, a few wet lines leaking down from under her bangs, “Sure, why not? If the Princess can’t help us, then we’re better off just chasing whatever ridiculous theories we can.” She laughed bitterly. “What if it was true?” she asked, the question dying seconds after it left her mouth, “We couldn’t fight something otherworldly—I’m pretty sure that, whatever’s out there, it’s harmonious enough that our powers combined would amount to…to…” her hoof slammed down on the cushion, “to nothing!”

Rarity opened her mouth to say something, but stopped, stunned into silence. Fluttershy felt her heart breaking as she watched the spectacle, standing there in the middle of the aisle.

“By Celestia, that’s really it, ain’t it?” Came Applejack’s voice from the adjacent seat. She was holding together much better than the others. She chuckled, low and toxic. “Some Princess she is…can’t believe I just said that, but…” She frowned deeply. “Why’d she turn us away?”

The only answer was the rattling of the train’s wheels against the tracks.

Dash and Pinkie were gone, to the back of the train at the start of the ride—there was no telling how broken up they were about all this, and Fluttershy wasn’t sure she wanted to see anyway. She wanted to scream at her friends, to shake them, to make them see that her becoming Death really was what had happened. But all she could do was watch as Twilight’s head slumped forward, into her hooves.

“What do we do?” She said quietly, “What do we do? There’s…” A sob wracked her body, but no more tears came. “There’s nothing left, is there?” She raised her head, chest heaving, and looked at her companions.

The two of them sat silently, Rarity busying her hooves with a frayed stitch on the seat, nearly drawing blood from her lip as she bit it, and Applejack, with her hat cocked down, overshadowing her eyes. It was too much; Fluttershy turned and exited the train.

It didn’t matter where she went, as long as she wasn’t there. Even being the way she was, Fluttershy had never felt so helpless before. In an instant, the bottom dropped out of her stomach, and now she was left facing reality once more, something she’d tried desperately to avoid in the past.

Fluttershy felt empty as she lay down in a treetop near Ponyville, her head tucked between her hooves. Maybe this time, she hoped, when she slept, she’d wake up from this nightmare.