There were no venues in Ponyville large enough for the event that had been gradually constructed for Sweetie Belle. So it was that they borrowed Sweet Apple Acres, along with all the land around it.

Twilight wasn’t surprised to find that Pinkie had already made arrangements for a much larger space, to her usual standards of quality and coordination. Hundreds of meters of ribbons and streamers coated the trees, with firefly lanterns so bright that nopony would long for the electricity that the farm didn’t have.

Twilight couldn’t help but see the similarity to a certain fae gathering she had briefly visited, with the live band and spacious dance floor and ample supply of refreshments.

But here the music was a local group playing covers of songs popular with younger ponies—the sweets were from Sugarcube Corner, and the guests were all creatures Twilight knew.

If there was one consolation for Twilight about the party, it was that she wasn’t responsible for it. It was Sweetie’s party, and her friends that would be there. Friends to a vampire-child, with no idea what they’d involved themselves in. But not for much longer.

As ponies began to arrive, Twilight mingled with the other adults near the gates. She watched them come without doing anything to make herself stand out from the crowd. She watched the sky for Celestia’s carriage, or for Luna’s covert descent—but saw neither one. The sun went down, and still she didn’t see them. While children played party games, Twilight engaged in polite conversation with the creatures of Ponyville, and all those who had come from all around.

“You’re actually doing it,” Fluttershy said, emerging from the crowd when Twilight was alone and joining her at the small table. She had a plate of food with her, one she never touched. Twilight could scarcely imagine how she’d missed something that had been so obvious before—her friend’s animal companions ate far more than she did, despite their size. How could she have failed to notice it? “Did you think about the consequences?”

Twilight looked away from her, still watching the crowd. She shifted uncomfortably in the expensive ball gown, feeling like a glass sculpture on display in a toy store. But if she wanted the tolerance of the greatest vampire on any night, it was tonight.

“That’s what Regolith said,” she whispered. It wasn’t hard to stay quiet enough not to be overheard, when there were so many others conversing, and the band played so loudly. “I don’t know what he was talking about. We’re curing her, so doesn’t that mean we’re done with consequences?”

Fluttershy giggled. It was quiet, graceful like everything else she did. Even so, Twilight couldn’t help but feel the bitterness buried in it. “It’s so rare, I can’t tell you what’s going to happen. I wonder if he can’t either. But… there’s so much power here. Unless you think the cure was easy.”

“No!” She didn’t hesitate this time. “That was the hardest thing I ever did. And once I found everything, I’d barely started.”

“There you go.” Fluttershy sat back. “Good thing I’m here. Hopefully that’s enough.”

“And the princesses. And Regolith himself. And our friends.”

“You mean Rainbow?” Her eyebrows went up. “I don’t think being a good swimmer is going to help us here. The Apples don’t even have a pond closeby, even if we did something like that.”

It was Twilight’s turn to laugh. “It’s not my place to say. Just like it’s not my place to tell them about you.” One glance at the moon beginning to edge over the trees was all the timekeeping she needed. The filly of the hour would be heading into the farmhouse about now for her surprise. There were still reasons this might end badly that had nothing at all to do with magic.

She walked slowly through the crowd, eyes fixed on the farmhouse up on the hill. She almost missed the voice from behind her, quiet and polite. “I’m pleased you wore it.”

It was Regolith all right, entertaining at a table surrounded by several of Ponyville’s local mares. Twilight bit back a wave of nausea at the thought of where this might be going. But so far as she could tell, he’d just been talking to them.

It was strange to see a creature like him out in the open—he reclined like a king, dressed in a casual cape with intricate gold stitching.

“Don’t try anything,” she whispered, freezing just behind his chair. “Ponyville is my home.”

“Work on your subtlety,” Regolith chided. “This relationship is old, and there are many in my position who would be less gracious. Try instead ‘I hope the night is peaceful.’ To which I might reply, ‘I’m only here to watch the festivities, not to touch.’ Same message, fewer insults.”

Twilight winced—not only was the advice obviously right, but it was given by the same creature who might be most offended. She nodded respectfully to him. “I’m sorry. I’ll be more diplomatic next time.”

“Good.” When he glanced back at her, he was smiling. “I understand the young can be impertinent. I will be less understanding a century from now.”

Twilight walked away, though it was an effort to leave these innocent ponies so close to such a dangerous creature. I hope Celestia or Luna is close. I don’t know if anypony else could do anything about you.

Twilight soon learned why she hadn’t seen Celestia yet—she was waiting inside the farmhouse. The princess wore none of her regalia tonight, just a loose brown robe with a hood, enough to conceal her face until Twilight was right beside her.

“My dear Twilight,” she said, grinning lightly. “I’ve been waiting for you.” She stepped out of the way, revealing the ponies inside. Rarity and Sweetie Belle. Her best friends the other crusaders weren’t here.

Twilight nodded politely back. “Good to see you too, Princess.”

Celestia smiled faintly. “Perhaps now isn’t the time. Sweetie Belle here looks like she’s going to have a nervous breakdown.”

Twilight looked past her, and sure enough Sweetie Belle did look upset. Mostly by Celestia—she squirmed in her seat, looking like she wanted to run.

Now that she knew what to look for, Twilight could see in Sweetie Belle what she could see in Fluttershy. She was no helpless child, but a graceful, powerful creature. The smell she’d first mistaken for a slightly bad apple knocked under a cabinet or something was the odor of decay—Sweetie Belle herself. She was dead, after all.

“I don’t… really know what’s going on,” Sweetie said, glancing up at her sister and back several times in simple terror. “Is this, uh…”

“It’s alright, Sweetie,” Rarity said. “They both know, and they’re not here to hurt you. Twilight and I have been working on something very hard for the last six months. That surprise I told you about.”

“You’re going to give me magic lessons?” she asked, as though her sister had flipped a switch. She bounced forward, grinning excitedly. “I told her I wanted to get good at it. If my cutie mark is something about being a unicorn, I wouldn’t be able to find it with the Crusaders.”

“You wouldn’t be able to find it at all,” Princess Celestia said. She stepped forward, suddenly standing tall and regal. Her mane filled the farmhouse with light and warmth, making Sweetie retreat a few steps. For a few seconds her mouth opened, and Twilight saw the little fangs emerging from inside.

Princess Celestia didn’t sound cruel, nor judgmental. Just confident. “Most ponies have forgotten the mechanisms of fate. There is much that you don’t need to know—except this. You would need to be alive to ever find a cutie mark. Those like you—their marks are nothing more than the signs you see written on their flanks. They carry no power anymore, no talents, no connection to magic. Even if you had become a vampire later in life, you would have lost your mark as much as they did.”

“Oh.” Sweetie sunk to the floor as though Celestia had smacked her with a rock. Her ears flattened, and her eyes looked dark.

Twilight had some idea of where her thoughts were probably going. She didn’t intend to sit still and let that happen. She removed the padded metal container, nodding towards her sister. It was only right that Rarity would tell her.

Rarity took the case, removing the clasps and opening it. “We found the cure,” she said. “And we have it for you. That’s what makes this birthday special. You don’t have to be stuck.”

Sweetie Belle looked up, her eyes going wide. She looked at the container, at the tiny glass flask inside it. “I thought… you said…”

“There probably wasn’t one,” Rarity finished for her. “I thought it was impossible. I could only find legends of one creature who had ever been cured before, and not even a pony. But I still looked. Princess Twilight and I went to the ends of Equestria and back to make this for you.”

Sweetie didn’t lift the container—Rarity hadn’t let go, and anyway her magic was far weaker. If she tried to use it, she might’ve shattered it on the floor.

“This is it,” she whispered. She no longer seemed afraid of them. “What if… what if we gave it to Mom and Dad instead? They need it more than me.”

Princess Celestia shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid there’s nothing that can be done for either of them. But the treatment Twilight Sparkle made for you is real. I’ve seen it used once before, and I can see she’s brewed it perfectly. If you drink it, you will be healed. You will return to your proper age, and be a normal, living pony again. Fate and Equestria both will have places welcome for you.”

“But…” Sweetie said, lowering her head. “What if I don’t?”

It wasn’t Princess Celestia who answered, or even Twilight. A voice spoke from the back of the kitchen, and the pony it belonged to emerged from within a second later. Regolith. “Then the potion will crystalize when the sun rises, becoming useless. You will retain every advantage you have gained, every strength. You will be free to study magic not for one century, but as many as you wish. The real question is—what if you do drink it?”

Twilight’s eyes widened, and she spun to face him. “Nopony said you could be here.”

Rarity had even less tact—she’d drawn a rapier. Where she’d had it stashed in such a slim dress, Twilight didn’t even want to know. But now she held it in her magic beside the potion, protecting it and her sister both.

“I do not require permission.” He strode forward, nodding politely to Celestia. Like a casual acquaintance he was meeting on the street, not the princess of all Equestria. He walked up to Sweetie’s other side, ignoring Rarity’s angry glares. “Not from you. I received it in the treaty, many years ago. I told you it was my duty to be here. What did you think that meant?”

“I don’t…” Sweetie looked up and seemed less afraid of him than she had been of Celestia. “Who are you?”

“Your prince,” he said, smiling. “And you’re my youngest subject, at least that I know about. I am the one who looks out for our interests in Equestria. So long as you don’t drink that potion.”

Rarity opened her mouth to speak, but Regolith was quicker. “Don’t you dare speak a lie in my presence, Agent Rarity. I know you care deeply about your sister—but it would be a violation of our arrangement to tell her something that isn’t true. Think carefully before you speak.”

Rarity ground her teeth together, seemed to count quietly to herself, then finally spoke. “Sweetie. This one here is the oldest vampire anyone knows about. He—a rogue member of his court is the one who attacked our parents, and you.”

“Exactly.” He nodded, apparently satisfied. “A rogue member of my court that was duly punished. There are few creatures who care more about the administration of justice than me. The actions of creatures like Nocturne endanger all of us. And this is why I’ve taken such an interest tonight. Caring for you, dear child, is helping to undo some of the damage he caused.”

Princess Celestia cleared her throat. “Careful, Regolith. You nearly overstep yourself.”

“Nearly,” he answered, before taking one step back and falling silent.

“The prince is telling you the truth,” Celestia went on. “There was a time long ago where his kind and ours were allies, Sweetie Belle. There have been great ponies who were like him. Champions and heroes. It is thanks to those ponies that we have this arrangement with vampires today. You cannot be forced to use the cure, by us or him. The cure cannot be compelled on a vampire, even if they’re guilty of terrible things. And you have done nothing wrong.”

Poor Sweetie Belle looked like she was about to go back to her nervous breakdown. She looked back and forth between them all, then to the vial. Eventually her eyes settled on Twilight. “You made it. What if I wanted to wait and drink one in a few years? Could you make me another?”

Twilight shook her head. “It was a… miracle I was able to gather everything once. I can’t do it again.”

Rarity looked like she was about to explode. She glanced to Celestia for approval, who finally nodded. Then she spoke. “Sweetie, Twilight and I did this so you could have your life back. I hope you’ll take it. I’ve been fighting the undead for a long time—many of them would kill a hundred ponies to have this chance. You won’t get another one.”

She lifted the tiny glass out from its padding and set it on the floor at her hooves.

Twilight watched in silence. She didn’t expect to have anything to contribute to this now—she didn’t represent either side in this argument. She couldn’t even look at her without remembering how hard it had been to brew.

“Will there be pain?” Sweetie asked.

Regolith shrugged one shoulder. “I have no idea. The only ponies who drank that are dead now. Not through anything I did—that’s the best part. Time is the enemy of us all, Sweetie Belle. I know you don’t understand it now, but you will. If you drink that, your blood will stink so terribly that for the rest of your life no vampire will be able to dream of drinking it. And for good reason—if they try, it will kill them. This is a permanent decision you make, filly. Understand its consequences well.”

Sweetie Belle removed the cork, lifting the container towards her. Twilight kept her own magic ready, in case she manifested more of her usual clumsiness and dropped it. No decisions would be made today by spilling her magnum opus on the floor.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Regolith,” Sweetie said. “I can’t… I can’t watch my friends get their cutie marks and not earn mine.”

He looked away. “Apologize for nothing to me, child. It was the lawbreaker who did this, not you. No creature should be brought into our number by accident. You have done nothing wrong.”

Sweetie Belle tilted back the little bottle and emptied it in a single sip.

Only when she’d swallowed did Celestia say, “It does hurt. More than anything you’ve ever felt. More than anything you ever will.”

Sweetie’s eyes went wide, shocked and confused. There was pain there for a moment, then a swirl of emotions Twilight couldn’t even read. She bore her teeth again, both fangs this time, lunging forward at Twilight.

Then she tripped on a loose floorboard and fell on her face. She groaned, moaning and rolling to one side. She began to twitch and convulse, as something black began oozing out of her lips and her eyes.

Rarity dropped down beside her—or tried. But Celestia’s magic caught her, pushing her back. “No, Agent Rarity. You can’t help her. Unless you wish to become the thing you’ve worked so hard to destroy.”

Rarity kicked and flailed in the air, struggling towards her sister. “But I… I have to h-help her.”

“No.” Celestia’s horn glowed a little brighter, and Rarity suddenly fell limp. She levitated her back, onto the nearby couch. “I’m afraid this fight is beyond you.”

Sweetie kept thrashing, tearing up the floorboards, kicking and flailing and screaming. Twilight’s own horn glowed for a second, and a bubble appeared around them. The distant music went instantly silent, and Sweetie Belle’s agonized screams were trapped with the three of them.

“Are you proud that you killed another, Sunmaker? You steal my archmagus from me, now you’re taking children as well?”

Celestia smiled at him, her eyes flashing like drops of sunlight. But Twilight was backing away. Feet from them, a child she’d known for years thrashed and struggled as though she was dying. Thick black slime bubbled from her every pore, staining her white coat black. But even the pony Twilight respected most, ruler of all Equestria, stood by and watched.

She didn’t tell her how much it would hurt. Regolith told the truth, and she didn’t.

But Celestia spoke without shame. She raised her voice over the agonized child as though they were speaking in the rain, or maybe beside a train station, instead of a child in distress. “You strive for a prolonged existence for its own sake,” she said. “But do you know what happens to your fateless subjects when they die?”

Regolith smiled back. Twilight finally recognized that expression—there was nothing of friendliness in it, despite how it might appear to outsiders. “Nothing happens,” he said. “We are all matter and machinery, Celestia. My court choose the material that endures.”

What she saw between these two was a hatred so ancient it was almost love. Celestia didn’t look away. “Someday even you will die, Regolith. That day, you will wish you had a pony like Twilight to give you back your soul.”

“We will see.” He turned away from Sweetie, stepping over her agonized body without a downward glance. He turned his back on Celestia without fear, passing Twilight on his way to the door. “Despite what you may think, the true Lunar Court honors a skilled craftspony. This is an incredible feat. In time, I may have my own suggestions for you. Perhaps instead of taking life next time, you’d rather give it.”

He didn’t wait for her answer. Before she could reply, he’d passed through her bubble of silence, and vanished into the night.

Sweetie didn’t seem to have the energy to scream anymore. She twitched and spasmed with little seizures, her voice so weak Twilight almost couldn’t make out her words.

She could, though. “Just… kill me, please. Make it… make it stop…”

“I won’t,” Princess Celestia said, her voice firm, but compassionate. “I have no treatment for you. But there’s a pony who does—she should be here soon.”