… Life is worth living, the entire way through,

And by cheating the order, the real loser is you.

So go back while you can; let’s try this once more.

You flip to the beginning,

And I’ll open the door.

                                                -The Yellow Book of Riddles

Part Nine: Hope

        Luna watched, eyes wide with fear, as the nighttime horizon danced with flames.  A light breeze shook the flowers along the railing of the highest balcony of the castle; from such a height, it seemed as if she could see the curvature of the globe, and in every direction was the small dance of distant infernos, the flames growing nearer like the spreading burn of parchment above a candle.

        The final Pillar has fallen.  They haven’t made it in time.  She didn’t need the approaching horror in the distance as proof—she could feel it in the air, she could even feel it in her horn.  Her connection to the Spring, the connection shared by all unicorns and alicorns alike, one which most unicorns didn’t even know existed, was being severed.  In the distance, the burning raged on, greedily eating through forest.  It will soon reach us.  The safeguard must be activated.

— — —

        The sight of mirror shards on the floor of her sister’s room was nearly as painful as the sight of the approaching destruction.  She tried using magic to sweep the glass away, but none came; instead, she felt a dull ache in her forehead, like that of an overworked muscle.  Neglecting the shards, she continued her search.

        She said it would be here.  Why is it not here?  A horrifying thought struck her: What if he knew about it?  What if he knew about it and took it when he took her?  There’d be no hope; without magic, all of Equestria would fall to the coming doom.  She thought back to the day Celestia told her of the safeguard, the day Discord broke free.  Closing her eyes tightly, the scene played through her mind.

        “You are to stay hidden, do you understand?  If something happens to me, I need you to do something.  You are to activate the safeguard.”

        “But Tia—”

        “No.  No but’s.  Listen: you will find the safeguard when you find yourself.”

        “What does that mean?  Why tell me in riddles?  Why can’t I help you?  Together we could—”

        “If he truly is loose, he could be listening right now.  I will tell you only what is safe.  The safeguard is a reserved store of magic, separate even from the Spring.  A backup, which I created with the help of an assembly of the most talented and powerful unicorns of the time.  That was the last time Discord was defeated, and it was meant to act as protection from threats like his.  I can’t say more.  If he were to gain access to it, he could grow even stronger.  He’s more dangerous than he seems, Luna.  Beneath his eccentric exterior is something darker; the root of discord is absolute evil.  Stay hidden, and remember the safeguard.  Goodbye, little sister.”

        “Wait!  Tia!”

        In her mind the memory faded, just as she had faded when her sister teleported her away.  It had been like the moon all over again, though deep down she understood her sister’s reasoning.  She was right—separation was the only way.  And the safeguard was hidden where she’d find herself.  She hadn’t needed it that day, the day of Discord.  The Elements took care of him.  But with this new danger literally on the horizon, the mysterious “safeguard” was the only recourse Luna could think of.  She didn’t know what it was, where it was, or how to use it, but if Celestia thought it could protect them from Discord, she hoped it could help defend against the approaching havoc.

        Frantically, she glanced out the window.  Though still distant, the line of destruction drew nearer, fueled by the growing instability within the planes of existence.  Under the bed, in the nightstand drawer, in the closet, nothing but trinkets and forgotten socks.  Back to the dresser, she peered down at the broken mirror shards, morbidly kicking one in defeat.  I don’t even know what I’m looking for.  Why the riddle?  Why couldn’t you have just told me?  There was no response.  Ten, eleven, twelve Luna’s stared back at her, each living within a glass world, each wearing a look of loss and fear.  As she watched, however, those expressions changed to dawning realization.

        You’ll find it where you find yourself...

        She smiled.  Next time, leave the riddles to Discord, sister, she thought.  This is actually quite obvious.  Little by little she pieced together the mirror, pushing each shard into place next to its complimentary piece so tightly that the cracks seemed to disappear altogether.  When she was finished, only one Luna stared back, still worried and frightened but now also hopeful.  She lifted it up, and the cracks were gone; the oblong mirror was whole again—an encouraging sign.  What now?

        She thought for a second, cursing her sister for making everything so complicated.  Then, on a whim, she stared intently at her reflection, and spoke.  “Equestria is in danger.  The safeguard must be activated.  Celestia has been taken, the Pillars have fallen, and the destruction of instability is approaching.  The Spring has been taken captive; no magic is available to us.  Please, help.”

        Her reflection, anxious and frightened, stared back silently.  Luna chastised herself for being so foolish.  Why did I expect that to work?  If I need magic to activate it, all is lost.  The Spring—

        “Your request has been heard,” the Luna within the mirror responded.  Luna gasped; a lifetime of experience with unusual magic had still not prepared her to see herself speaking back, using her own voice to say words that were not her own.  “With no Spring from which to draw magic, the castle’s emergency supply will be utilized,” she continued.  “The supply is large, but not intended to last.  If it runs out before the Spring is restored, nothing can stop the approaching destruction.  I’m sorry, I wish there was more I could do.  Good luck.”

        “Wait!” she shouted at herself, gripping the mirror so tightly that her hooves ached.  “Is there anything else I can do?  Anything?”

        For a moment, she thought it was too late, that the magic had vanished and the mirror once again showed nothing more than her reflection.  Then, the mirror-Luna spoke.

        “Hope,” she said.

***

        In the darkness of her room, Applebloom couldn’t sleep.  Dreams of frightening noises and flashes of red had kept her tossing and turning and startled awake; now those dreams were fading, leaving nothing behind but a feeling of foreboding and fear.  She slid out from under her covers, knowing Applejack would make room in her bed, just like always; with the comfort of her older sister’s warm body and deep breathing, she too would drift off, all fears forgotten and all nightmares vanquished.  Then she stopped, remembering her sister’s departure, the hug goodbye, and the promise to be back soon.  With a sigh, she changed destination from Applejack’s empty room to the open window, where a slight breeze played with the drawn curtains.  She peered out to the stars, which silently winked back at her.

        “Please come back soon.”  She frowned at the stars, which only winked more in return.  She knew only a few details of her sister’s journey; she had caught her whispering with Big Mac the night before she left, something about Celestia and Fluttershy and a flower.  She wouldn’t even tell me where she went, she thought, resting her head on her elbows.

        Something in the sky broke her from her thoughts.  With a flash, a blue pinpoint of light outshone the stars, directly over the distant Canterlot Castle.  Then it was gone.  A moment later, a translucent blue field began growing from the same point, spreading out and down, until it covered the entire sky, stretching and warping the stars into nebulae of azure spots.

        Applebloom stared in silent awe a moment longer.  Then she ran to wake Big Mac.

        Outside the protective dome, the destruction raged on.

***

        The first one who arrived did so with uneasiness and fearful memories of her previous visit.  Applejack trudged against the force of the snowy wind to the plateau that acted as a final resting place before the ascent to the Spring of Magic.  The path of that ascent stood before her exactly as she remembered it: narrow and steep, with towering, egg-shaped stones lining both sides.  And finally, at the end of that snowy climb, was the gaping cavern mouth that had occupied her dreams ever since her narrow escape from the figure within.  Now, however, no light burst from the entrance to the Spring; all was quiet, all was dark.

        The Rose fragment stopped, settling against a mound of snow that it had pushed along like a broom.  For a moment Applejack stood quietly, the wind whispering wordlessly into her ears, the cold beginning to bite at her hooves.  A horrible sense of deja vu came over her, as if she were reliving the nightmare all over again.  She’d struggle up the path, reach the top, peer into the gaping mouth of the Spring, and see Celestia lying there, helplessly, and behind her instead of two Pillars missing, all six would be destroyed, and this time she wouldn’t be able to escape before he showed up, and he would surely capture her, question her, and if Celestia couldn’t escape him, how in the world could she?

        “Applejack!”  Pinkie tackled her in a hug, wrapping around her like a blanket.

        “Pinkie!  Ya made it!  Ah knew you would!  Just a minute ago, I woulda given my hat twenty times over just to hear your voice.”  She laughed when Pinkie squeezed even tighter, her pink mane tickling her nose.  “Will you forgive me for leaving you like Ah did?  Ah know how sensitive you can be, and I thought—”

        “Applejack,” Pinkie held her friend by the shoulders, staring solemnly into into her eyes.  Applejack stared back in anticipation, unused to such a serious tone from her eccentric friend.  Then a grin spread across Pinkie’s face, and her voice dropped low in mimicry: “Ah reckon if’n y’all hadn’t left me in such a kind manner, Ah’d have had more problems than a porcupine in a balloon factory.”

        Applejack burst into laughter, holding her hat to her chest while she rolled in the snow, protected from its sting by the warmth of her friend, who sat next to her and practically bounced as she giggled.

        A voice somehow broke through the laughter and the wind.  “Rarity, I’m telling you, that can’t be Applejack!  She doesn’t sound anything like that!”

        The response was even clearer, closer, and annoyed.  “Twilight, who else do we know that talks like that, or mentions porcupines?”

        Pinkie Pie and Applejack collected themselves long enough to glance at each other.  Then they each burst out laughing again.  “Twilight!  Rarity!”  Applejack called between dying giggles.  “Good to see y’all again!”

        Before she was through speaking, she felt Twilight’s tight embrace, which she eagerly returned.  “AJ, you have no idea how great it is to see you!  You too, Pinkie!  How long have you been waiting here?”

        “Ah’ve been here only a few minutes, then Pinkie showed up, and only a minute later you both appeared,” Applejack responded, ending the hug.  “When did you catch up with Rarity?”

        Rarity, who was finishing her own embrace with Pinkie, answered for Twilight.  “We met up only just around the bend, only about a minute before ending up here.  Have you heard anything about the others?  If I don’t see Fluttershy within the next thirty seconds, I’m turning right back around to find her.”

        Applejack smiled.  “Ah appreciate your attitude, Rarity, but Ah don’t think that’ll be necessary.  My Rose piece led me here, Pinkie’s led her here, and Ah can see how yours led you here.  Ah’m sure Fluttershy and Dash will show up any second.”  She squinted into the distance, which happened to be only a few yards away, since the heavy snow made vision almost impossible.  “And just what do ya know?  Ah see a blue pegasus comin’ here now.”

        “Dash!”  Twilight cheered, hopping gleefully while Pinkie somehow managed to grin even further.  Upon hearing her name, Dash broke into a sprint, wings useless in the gusty blizzard, until she—and, Applejack noticed, her Rose fragment—was only a nose away from Rarity.

        “Rarity, I’m so sorry, I wish I could have stayed, but I couldn’t, because I couldn’t bear to leave again, and if you’re mad at me that’s okay, you should be mad at me, I would be mad at me, I am mad at me, but you should know that—”  Rarity cut off the babbling pegasus with a soft yet firm hug.

        “How could I be mad at my own friend?  The one who saved my life?”  Rainbow Dash said nothing for a moment, then she vivaciously returned the embrace.

        “I won’t ever leave you again.”  Twilight noted in the wavering of her friend’s voice that she had rarely seen Dash so emotional.  Whatever happened between Rarity and Rainbow Dash, it must have breached the blue pegasus’s unbreakable loyalty, a wound that bit her to the core.

        “And I thought I was the dramatic one,” Rarity giggled, though the same emotion was present in her own voice.

        Twilight and Pinkie made room as Applejack stepped towards the two embracing friends.  “As much as Ah’d like to hear what happened ’tween you two, Ah think it’ll have to wait.  Fluttershy’s still missing.  Twilight, you think you could send up a beam?  Maybe she’d see it.”

        “Uh, I don’t know,” she said, glancing nervously over Applejack’s shoulders.  “Is that... the place?  The Spring?  Is this where you came when you were separated from us?”

        They all turned toward the cavern, that threatening puncture at the end of the path, as if expecting to see some horrible monstrosity looming within its entrance.

        Applejack’s failed attempt at confidence only made her sound more uncertain than ever.  “Yup, this is... this is it.”

        “Ugh, this place gives me the creeps,” Dash said.

        “I agree,” Pinkie added.  She lowered her head, preparing to divulge a terrifying secret.  “And I heard that at high altitudes like this... water boils at a lower temperature.”

        Dash turned to her friend in surprise.  “Really?  Wait... Pinkie, that’s not scary.”

        “It is if you’re a baker!”

        Applejack, never one for games in times of stress, rolled her eyes.  “We don’t have time for this.  Fluttershy is still missing.  Twilight, can you or can you not send up a flare?”

        “If there’s anypony in there,” she said, nodding toward the cavern, “will they see it?”

        “Twi’, Ah can hardly see my hoof in front of my face.  Ah think it’s a risk we’ll have to take.  We can’t do anything without Fluttershy.  And what if she’s hurt?  Or needs our help?  We don’t have a choice.  Don’t send it straight up—send it out, the way we all came from.”

        Rarity nodded in agreement.  “Try making it... dimmer than usual,” she suggested.  “So if there is anypony in there... he won’t see it.”

        Twilight sighed.  “Well, alright, then.  Here we go.”  She took one last nervous glance towards the cavern, then began formulating the flare.

        Three things happened at once.

        Twilight gasped in surprise and confusion at a sharp pain in her forehead.  In her mind she felt a scraping, like a ladle meeting not warm water but the rough bottom of the barrel.  The unexpected sensation sent a shiver down her spine and planted a dull ache in her head.

        Fluttershy stumbled out of the blizzard and into her circle of friend’s, collapsing in the center.

        And the cavern’s mouth flashed with otherworldly light, whiter and brighter than the ivory snow.

        And while this happened, while the group attempted to make sense of the sudden burst of activity, Fluttershy’s Rose fragment, which had led her into her circle of friends, slid off unnoticed.  It pushed through several feet of snow until it found the other shards, which had assembled in a similar circle, and slid its way into the center.  While the five friends cared for Fluttershy, the fragments came together, became whole with a low hum and a dim, unnoticed flash of red and green.  While her friends crowded her, tried to wake her, tapped her, and called her name, Fluttershy’s Rose sat in the snow, quiet and whole and beautiful as ever.

***

        Three hours.  In only three hours, the destruction on the horizon had grown from a distant flame to a maelstrom of terror just outside the safeguard shield.  Burnt, charred logs extended into the distance for miles.  From the observatory of the castle Luna could see where the Everfree Forest once stood.  Now it was a wasteland.  The few trees standing burned quickly, eventually adding to the corpses of their companions who littered the ground like leaves.

        Luna watched this all pensively.  Within moments, the rolling horror would reach the edge of the forest and enter occupied land.  If the shield didn’t hold up, Fluttershy’s cottage would be the first to go, followed by the other villagers who lived on the outskirts.  Moments, now.  Luna watched on.

        How much magic does the shield have from which to draw?  With the Spring unavailable, how much magic does the backup source contain?  How long can it last?  Can it even hold up to a threat such as this?

        Luna held her breath.  The first of the flames reached the last few trees of the Everfree, not just charring them but literally uprooting them, forcibly pulling them from the ground.  Then, just outside Fluttershy’s chicken coop, they stopped.  The faint blue rippling shield flared hot purple as the flames licked across its outside, unable to break through, instead riding up the outside of the dome.  Within minutes, the entire dome, which stretched from Ponyville to Canterlot, Everfree to Cloudsdale, was engulfed by the unrelenting inferno.  The stars were wiped away as the burning red and yellow wrapped itself over the safeguard, which still held strong.  How long will it hold?  Luna thought.

        “Luna.”  She jumped at the voice from behind her, so absorbed by the terror outside the shield that she hadn’t noticed her company.  It was probably the Mayor.  The first thing Luna had done after activating the safeguard was alert all residents of Ponyville, Canterlot, and Cloudsdale to report to Canterlot Castle immediately.  The trains had run all through the night, and kept running still, carrying the last of the Ponyvillians.  Nearly all the Cloudsdale pegasi had finished the migration, and were perched up and down the castle’s exterior, allowing room for the earth and unicorn ponies inside the towers, dining halls, cellars, bedrooms, guest rooms, and all other open spaces of the stone-walled castle.  The grounds were filled with four times their possible occupancy.  The bravest watched the destruction with wide eyes from outside in the garden, while the fillies and foals were held closely by their parents within the protective walls.  She had told them what she could: of the danger outside, the shield that guarded them, the missing Celestia, the loss of magic, the six that were working to save them.  She didn’t tell them about the Spring.  The Mayor had been demanding more answers from her all night, despite her insistence that she had said all she could.  And now she was here, addressing Luna by her first name, ignoring her title as Princess.  Luna was too tired for the old rage to rise up, too worried for her darker side to contribute to her annoyance.  So when she turned around, it was with an expression of weakening patience, nothing more.

        That expression quickly slipped away as one of joy and disbelief took over.  “Tia!”  They embraced.  “Tia... how...”

        “He let me go.”

        “What?”

        “He did.  His excuse was that he was afraid of how to dispose of me, so he sent me away.  I think he was lying to himself.  He felt guilty.  And that means there is a chance.”

        “Guilt... guilt... guilty?”  Luna stammered, enraged.  “Guilty?  He has destroyed untold amounts of forest and probably living creatures within those forests, and if it weren’t for the safeguard, he would have destroyed us!  Everything!  Ponyville, Canterlot, Cloudsdale, everything!  For all we know, Appleloosa is burning right now.  And he feels guilty?  Sister, if he felt guilty, there wouldn’t be death and destruction in every direction right now!  We wouldn’t have need for the safeguard if he felt guilty.  If he felt guilty, you would’t be walking with a limp or holding your wing like that!  Yes, I saw that, even if you tried to hide it.  If that despicable excuse for a living creature felt guilty—”

        “Luna.”  The younger sister cut off, once again amazed by the ability of her sister to say so much in so few words.  “Luna, the mind is a deep, often dark, place.  You should know that yourself.”  Luna looked down.  Yes, she certainly knew that.  “When one is obsessed by something, taken by it, absolutely entrenched in one goal, a single objective, then nothing else becomes important.  Such is our poor Thade.  That is his name.  The Spring told me.”  Luna looked back up, met her sister’s glowing eyes.  “In the mind, one sees only what he or she sees.  Do you understand?  He saw me pinned to an altar, helpless, and he knew that he did that.  He felt guilt.  He does not see this,” she waved a wing towards the sky.  Luna followed her gesture and saw the flames engulfing the dome, which held strong but glowed more dimly.  “He does not see this so he does not think about it.  He knows it is true, but without seeing it, he can pretend it means nothing.  Right now he only sees her, the object of his obsession.  Does he really love her?  I don’t know.  I hope he does.  It would make his actions more pitiable.”

        Luna considered all this, tried to determine what it all meant.  “But... what do we do?  Now what do we do?  We’re stuck here beneath the safeguard, aren’t we?  We can’t leave to help them?”

        “No, we can’t leave.  You have told the citizens what is happening, I assume?”

        “Yes.  It was difficult without magic.  Ponyville’s mail service is surprisingly effective, however.  The message was delivered to every soul in the area.  The spirit of these ponies never ceases to amaze me.  They managed to get all of Ponyville, all of it, to the castle by train in only one night.  All of Cloudsdale flew over, too.”

        Celestia smiled.  “Yes, the power of spirit can do amazing things.”  She turned her eyes to the engulfing devastation.  “Sometimes horrible things.”

        “You should probably speak to them.  Everypony, I mean.  Show them that you are well and they will be more hopeful.”

        “Yes.  I will.  And then we wait.”

        “But, Tia, what can we do besides wait?  Surely there must be something?”

        Celestia turned to her sister.  “You activated the safeguard, yes?  Did it tell you to do anything?”

        “Yes.  ‘Hope.’”

        “Then hope we shall.”

***

        Fluttershy... get up, darling...  Fluttershy...

        Sound and light swam in and out.  The voice grew and fell, grew and fell, like the tide of an empty beach.  It’s soft tone was new yet familiar; it brought back memories earlier than her earliest, memories that were nothing more than blurs of color and voices.

        Fluttershy... get up...

        She slowly opened her eyes.  The sudden brightness blinded her momentarily.  Then she could see the bluest sky, interrupted here and there by wisps of clouds that moved deliberately but without hurry.

        “Fluttershy.”  She realized she was lying on her back.  Grass, or something softer, grew around her, and the air had the scent of a field in the spring—light and full of life, cool and breezy.  She turned on her side, lifting herself from the grass in search of the owner of that voice.

        He was a light blue pegasus, the color of the sky.  And he was smiling at her, standing at her side, watching her with gray eyes of sadness, sympathy, but mostly love.

        He spoke.  “Do you know—”

        “Daddy?”

        He smiled again.  “Yes.”

        She ran to him, embracing him and holding herself around his neck.  “I missed you.”  She buried her head against his back, feeling his soft coat and letting it dry her tears.

        He held on to her.  “I missed you, too.  And I’m very proud of you.”  A tear fell from his eye, and he wiped it away as she continued the embrace.  A cool breeze swept through the field, gently rustling the grass in a wave that washed around them both.

        After a moment that lasted forever but not long enough, he pulled her away, looking directly into her damp turquoise eyes—his own eyes.

        “There are a lot of things I have to tell you, and we don’t have much time.  Follow me, dear.”

        She smiled.  “Anywhere.”  They walked on, through the field, his wing clasped across her back, pulling her close, her head leaning against his.

— — —

        “Your Rose, Fluttershy.  Do you know why it broke?”  They were heading along a path through the green field, nearing a hill.

        “Because... because of my friends?”

        He smiled.  “Yes, that is one way to think about it.  The Rose has never been used before—there’s never been an emergency like this one since the Rose’s creation.  In all my years of guarding it, waiting for it to show signs of activity or danger, I’ve never seen it do anything out of the ordinary.  I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for.  What would it do?  Glow?  Teleport me to where I could use it?  I wasn’t sure.  Maybe it actually decides what to do.  Maybe, when it felt a disturbance at the Spring, it decided to split six ways because it understood the strength of your friendship.”  He turned to look at her, still holding her tightly under his wing.  They had reached the top of the little hill, and in the distance Fluttershy could see a cottage where the field ended at the edge of a forest, much like her own.  “I don’t think we’ll ever know for sure.  The important thing is, it brought you all back together after you separated.  It brought you to the Spring.  And, because we are talking to one another right now, it has brought you to me.”

        Fluttershy took in her surroundings again.  Another breeze swept through the field.  “It brought me to you... where are we?”

        “Here.  Stop.”  They stopped together at the peak of the rolling hill.  “See the cottage in the distance?  Do you recognize it?”

        She turned toward the little house again.  “It looks kind of like mine,” she said.  And it did—there was another window above the door and the chicken coop was a little smaller, but other than that it was nearly identical.

        “Do you remember the story of the Rose?  The story Princess Luna told you?”

        “Yes, the story of the unicorn mare who wanted to control the Spring.”

        He took his wing off her back, stepping away to reveal the ground beneath them.  “Look down.  Look.”

        She followed his gaze.  Embedded in the ground before her was a rectangular stone marker, about the size of a large book cover.  Inscribed upon it was an epitaph, which she read:

Here lies the body of a fool,

Consumed by love,

Absorbed by power,

Who died trying to make things right.

She succeeded.

I did not know her name,

But she left with me the source of her salvation,

Born from the Spring itself,

To be used to stop those who make the same mistake.

Here lies Rose, named so because she

Rose beyond herself,

Died for love,

Died to protect us all.

Let us never forget her courage,

And that, even in the most misguided souls,

There is always hope.

        Fluttershy gasped.  “That... this is her grave?”

        Her father nodded solemnly.

        She looked to the edge of the forest, where the cottage sat in quiet desolation.  “Then... that cottage... that’s the cottage of the pegasus who took her in?  The one she told her story to?  The one she gave the Rose to?”

        “Yes, Fluttershy.  My great-grandfather.  Like Luna told you, after she made the Rose, the mare teleported herself away from the Spring, and ended up here, in this field.  She was weak, and though my great-grandfather cared for her, she didn’t make it.  This marks where he put her to rest.  He kept the Rose and passed it down to his son, my grandfather, who passed it down to my father, who passed it down to me.  And I passed it down to you.”

        She looked in his eyes, and after a moment of silence, they embraced again.

        “Then what does it do?” she asked, her face against his neck, her eyes shut tightly.  “The Rose?  Will it stop him?  Will it fix the Spring?”

        “That’s why it brought you here, darling.  That is what I must tell you.”

        She pulled herself from the embrace and stared back at him.  “What do you mean?”

        He smiled gently.  She looked like her mother—he saw it in her yellow coat, her soft voice, in the way she tilted her head when she asked a question.  In that moment more than any other moment, he felt the blow of every second he hadn’t been with her, every smile he wasn’t there to see, her first words, her first flight, her first loose tooth.  But nothing could change that.  Both their futures rested upon this meeting, and what he had to tell her.

        “The Rose has done its job.  It can’t fix the Spring or rebuild the Pillars or defeat our misguided friend.  The Rose has done all it can do, because the Rose has brought you to the Thade.”

        Fluttershy stared at her father, trying to understand.  “What do you mean?  The Rose doesn’t do anything?”

        “No, darling, it does everything it needs to.  The only reason the mare lived long enough to tell her story and pass down the Rose was because she received care and sympathy from our long-gone relative.  She was loved.  That gave her the strength she needed.  That is what allowed her to die not as a power-hungry fool, but as a symbol of hope.  Do you think it is a coincidence that her random, unguided teleportation brought her to this very field?  It was not.  The Rose brought her here.  The Rose brought her here because that is what the Rose does: it seeks out the kind, brings them to those that need love, those that have a hole in their hearts and are willing to do something dangerous to fill it.  The Rose brought you to the Spring because you are what our poor friend needs; you have the same kindness that your great great grandfather had.  He rescued the mare he named Rose.  Now you must rescue Thade.”

        Fluttershy had listened with growing amazement, her mind attempting to fully comprehend what her father had just told her.  “So... you mean... I have to stop him?  The Rose can’t help me?”

        He smiled that sad little smile again.  “Yes, honey.  That is what you have to do.”

        “But... isn’t he dangerous?  Daddy, isn’t he evil?”

        He stepped closer, holding his head inches from hers.  Once again he got lost in those eyes.  “No, Fluttershy, not evil.  Evil is rare.  Evil only happens once in the history of each world.  Thade is lost.  You have to find him.  You can help him.  He’s looking, but he’s looking in the wrong direction.  Show him the way, darling.  Show him the right path.  Can you do that, dear?”

        She nodded, then grabbed her father in yet another hug.  She tried to hold onto that moment for as long as possible, to make it last, to memorize the texture of his coat, the sound of his voice, his scent, like morning dew.

        “It’s time for you to go, dear.”

        She couldn’t bring herself to pull her head away from his soft neck.  “Will I see you again?”  Her whole body shook with emotion.

        “Of course, Fluttershy.  Every morning when the sun rises, look closely and you’ll see me.  Look in the clouds and in the stars and I’ll be there, too, watching you, as I always have.  And, in the end, we’ll find each other again.  You and I and your mother.  It happens to all who wait.  You’ll see.  The next world is just as beautiful as the first, maybe more so.  That’s just how life works.  So go, live yours, and help Thade live his.”

        She was crying now, into his shoulder, holding onto him because she had never been able to do so before and had a lifetime ahead of her before she could do so again.  “I will.  I will.”  Her eyes were shut tight and her face was still buried against his back.

        “Go on, then, dear.  Go help somepony who needs it.  I almost forgot: your mother sends her love.”  His voice was fading now, even as she embraced him, crying into his warm back.  “I love you, honey.  Never forget that there is hope, even for those who seem lost.  I love you...” His voice had completely faded, his scent replaced by the scent of roses.  Before she could open her eyes, another voice called her name—a voice she had never heard before.

***

        “She’s moving!  Ah saw her!  She opened her eyes!”

        Immediately her friends were by her side, helping her up.

        Twilight pulled her close, warming her and rubbing off the snow that had collected on her side.  “Fluttershy, what happened?  Are you okay?”

        She blinked, wiping tears from her eyes.  

        Pinkie pounced.  “Have you been crying?  What’s wrong?  What happened?”

        Fluttershy looked at each of her five friends in turn, hoping to speak through her eyes before she said anything aloud.  “I saw my father.  I spoke with him, and he told me what to do.”

        Twilight’s eyes widened.  “He told you how to use the Rose?  How to activate it?”

        For the first time, Fluttershy noticed the light from the cavern’s mouth, the light coming from the Spring.  Its white luminance was made even brighter by the snow, which seemed to catch it, magnify it, and throw it back out.  “Oh, no!  He’s started already!  I have to get there now!”  She began shuffling awkwardly through the snow, heading towards the stone-lined path that led to the Spring.

        “Wait for us!”  Dash called.  “Slow down!”

        She did stop, and turned back to her five friends.  “I’m sorry, but I have to do this alone.  That’s what my father told me.  That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

        “Are you crazy?”  Dash started stumbling after her, shoving aside snow, her wings too cold to lift her.  “You can’t go in there alone!   You can’t—”

        “Dash.”  Twilight spoke softly and firmly.  “That’s what her father said to do, that’s what she says herself, so that’s how it has to be done.  I don’t know why, but it’s what she wants.”

        “But—”

        “Ah think Twi’s right,” Applejack added, stepping in front of Dash.  “Let her go.”

        Dash frowned, outwardly frustrated and inwardly torn.  They hadn’t seen the look on Rarity’s face when she flew away, leaving her weak and tired on the ground.  It was a look she couldn’t stand to see again, especially on Fluttershy.  “Fine.  But the moment I hear a squeak, I’m heading in there, and none of you can stop me.  Do you hear that, Fluttershy?”

        If she heard, she didn’t acknowledge it.  Just before stepping past the first egg-like stone that lined the narrow, snow-covered path, she bent down to grab something.  It was the Rose, whole once more, and she tucked it carefully under a wing.  Then, with her father’s words echoing in her ears, she ascended the trail to the Spring of Magic.

***

        The effects were immediate.  The instant he said the Word, that ultimate spell, the cavern trembled slightly.  This was it: his moment, the conclusion to his journey, the gateway to renewed happiness.  Yet he worried, even still; about what, he did not know, or did not want to know.

        Movement to his left.  He looked, smiled.  Her feather, the very feather that floated down from her wing the day he met her, now lifted from the bowl near the altar and rose into the air.  His eyes traced its path to the center of the circular cavern.  It stopped at eye level, just before where he stood.  Then everything was drowned by white, which burst from the point the feather had hovered only a second before, like a leak in a dam.  The feather was gone.  In its place was the portal, the end of his journey, the beginning of many more.  The Spring faded away, drowned out by the intensity of this tear in the fabric of the worlds, and soon the portal wasn’t before him, it was around him.  White on all sides.  So bright that if he looked down, his own front legs would have been gone, replaced by only pure light, the color of nothing and everything.

        Everything was completely silent.

        He stood, listening to his heart race, his breath draw in and out, and his thoughts, a jumbled mess that said too much and knew too little.  Then he heard her.

        Her hoofsteps were quiet even in the absolute silence.  He turned, unsure what to expect yet expecting all the same.  He turned and saw her.

        She was exactly as he remembered.  The gray of her coat burned brilliantly in the light.  Her eyes were that same deep turquoise.  On her right wing there was a feather bent slightly out of place, just as it had been all those years ago when they fell in love in Sonselo.  He couldn’t move or speak.  He could only watch as she stepped closer.  Every ounce of love that he had felt for her the day he lost her returned in one paralyzing blow.

        While he recognized the color in her eyes, he didn’t recognize the expression.  He had expected many different emotions from her: confusion, bewilderment, joy; and, deep down, he secretly hoped she would run to him, their years of separation wiped away, so they could begin right where they left off.  But her expression showed none of these.  She stared at him with sympathy while she approached, almost pity, as if he were the one who needed saving.  He was hardly able to process this, his entire mind consumed by one thought: It was her.  After all these years, it was her.

        Only a few paces away, now.  He could touch her with an outstretched hoof if he wished.  But he was still rooted in place.  After a moment, he managed to speak.

        “Laska.”

        She smiled, and his heart broke.  In that smile he saw true sorrow, sympathy, even love, but not the love that Laska had shown him.

        “No, I’m not.  I’m sorry.”  Her voice was smooth, songlike; definitely not the rough, tomboyish velvet of Laska’s.  “You poor, poor thing.”  Real sympathy.  Not patronizing, not mocking.  He realized she was crying.

        “You’re not Laska.”  It was all he could manage to say.  His mind was overwhelmed with confusion, disappointment, with no room left for anger.  “You are not Laska.”

Her voice, delicate and soft and still brimming with tears, seemed to echo in the universe of white.  “I’m not her, but I know her, and I know you.  I know what happened, and I know what you’ve done, and I know what you’ve felt.”  A glistening drop fell from her eye, down her nose, and disappeared forever onto the white ground of nothing.

“You... you know her?” he asked lamely, still unable to comprehend.  It was her, that was Laska, but at the same time she was not.

The mare before him nodded sadly.  “Yes.  I met her after I met somepony that I lost.  She wonders about you, Thade.  She’s worried.”

“She’s worried about me?” He nearly sputtered, too confused to decide how to feel.  “I’ve spent my whole life worrying about her, thinking about her, and she worries for me?”  He tried to speak as though he were angry, but could not.  All he felt was a hollow type of dread, as if all his fears were being realized.

That smile.  Still that tender smile.  “Look around you, Thade.  What do you see?  Do you like what you see?  Would Laska like what you see?”

As he watched, the vast empty white seemed to fade, and beyond it he saw the Spring.  It must have been his imagination, because he saw Celestia on the altar, still and soundless.  The Pillars were dust.  This vision swam away as the white returned, blocking everything once more.

“It had to be done!  Don’t you understand?  She was taken from me!  Stolen!  She was a filly!  A foal!  What kind of world do we live in when an innocent being can be taken so young, stolen away from everything that she loves and everything that loves her?  She couldn’t even fly.  She was a pegasus who was never old enough to fly!”  He was breathing heavily now, nearly shouting.  “We had our whole lives ahead of us that day.  I am doing this because the world killed one of its most beautiful creations, killed her in the very innocence of her youth, on the day of her first kiss.  If the world can be that cruel, that heartless, then what should I care if some trees burn down or if a few lives are lost?  I am bringing justice!  If not for me, then for her!  I am giving back what was taken from her.  That’s what the world owes her, and I am willing to make any sacrifice to make it happen.  She couldn’t even fly!”  With these last words he broke into a sob, and the mare ran to him, engulfing him in an embrace that he didn’t refuse.  She said nothing while he cried into her shoulder.

“I just want her back,” he gasped, while his chest heaved with unspent tears.  “I just want to make things right...”

“I know,” she whispered, patting his head like a mother comforting a young foal.  “I know you do.  I know that pain.  I lost a loved one, too, Thade.  My father passed away when I was very young.”  She could feel the tears rising to her eyes.  “I never even got to know him.  Thade, I think about him every day.”  His sobs had quieted, and she knew she had his attention.  “It’s so hard.  I know it is.  When I was little, I would see my friends hug their fathers goodbye when they were dropped off at school.  I would see them racing in the park or having a picnic or having cloudball fights.  I never got to do any of that.”  She wiped the tears from her eyes.  “He never got to tuck me in at night, or read me a story, or teach me to fly, or teach me to read.  So when I would see fathers with their children, loving each other and having what I couldn’t, it hurt me so so much, it was like being stung by a fire that wouldn’t burn out.  But it wasn’t all self-pity and jealousy.  I hurt not just because I didn’t have him, but because he didn’t have me.  His life was gone.  It was taken from him.”  She was crying in earnest now, crying into his shoulder, their roles reversed.  “He never had another Winter Wrap Up, couldn’t share a sunrise with his daughter, never made snowponies with her.  And that hurt just as bad.”  She wiped her eyes again.  “But I was never angry.  Because life goes as life goes, and friends and lovers can’t be separated forever.”

She pulled away from him so she could look him in the eyes, large brown eyes, filled with remorse and anger and guilt and hate and love.  “Thade, you don’t want to do this.  You’re not getting revenge on the world.  You’re only hurting others.  Ponies you’ve never met.  Yourself.  Laska.  You blame yourself, Thade, for something that wasn’t your fault.  Even worse, you think that she blames you.  You’re afraid she doesn’t love you anymore.  You’re afraid she’ll never forgive you.  You’re afraid that she hates you.”

He sharpened his gaze upon her.  It was as if she had pulled his deepest fears, the ones he kept hidden even from himself, right out of his soul, and displayed them before him.  He couldn’t handle having his emotions dissected like this.  Tears began blurring his vision, and his whole body shook where he stood.

“She told me to tell you something.  She says it’s not true.  She still loves you, and she misses you as much as you miss her.  But she still worries, because when she visits you, and watches over you, she doesn’t see the colt she fell in love with.”

The tears flowed freely now.  Not the pretend tears he had used to trick Celestia.  Real tears, tears he had been holding back for too many years.

The mare, the beautiful mare that was and wasn’t Laska, grabbed him again and pulled him close.  He wept openly into her coat, realizing that it wasn’t gray.  It was petal-yellow.  She smelled like roses.

“I just want her back,” he sobbed again, and she squeezed him even tighter, sobbing herself, needing him as much as he needed her, because she needed to make him see.

Around them, the portal burned on.

“It wasn’t fair what happened,” the mare whispered, her tears slowing while she spoke.  “You did nothing wrong.  She doesn’t blame you.  No one is to blame.  It couldn’t have been prevented.”

“But it was my fault!” he yelled through his sobs, holding her, taking comfort in the contour of her back, the same shape as Laska’s.  “It is my fault!  I thought I could take us both back!  I thought my magic was strong enough.  But it wasn’t.  I was so stupid, and that makes it my fault.”

She held him close, caring for him like she cared for all other creatures, except this one had a fracture that ran deep into his soul.  “Thade, the world works in strange ways.  Everypony feels their share of pain and loss at some point.  But trying to take revenge on the world for your own personal sorrow won’t help anypony at all.  Losing somepony you love is the most difficult thing in the world, but if you can’t let go, you can lose yourself, too.”

“It’s too late,” he breathed, no tears left to choke his voice.  “What can I do?  It’s too late.”

“It’s not.”  She looked him directly in the eyes, and suddenly she was Laska.  “You can make this stop.”

Fight your battles, Thade.

He forced himself to break eye contact and turned, placing his back to her.  He pulled off his cloak, the cloak he despised more than anything, afraid to look even though he knew what he would see.  When he had been a young foal, eager for the mark on his flank that would represent who he was and what his life meant, adults would tell horror stories of ponies who received their mark but neglected their calling, causing the mark to slowly fade, until it was gone.  It had all been empty threats—fears put into the young so they wouldn’t become lazy or languid.  He had never heard of a pony actually losing his or her mark before, not outside of clichéd fairy tales that he had outgrown by the time he could levitate a feather without thinking twice about it.  So when his actually began to fade, about a year ago, an icy terror crept into his heart, and he simply refused to believe that it could be true.  The cloak represented to Thade every lie he had ever told himself, and it was those lies that had pushed him onward, and those lies that he cast aside as the black cloak was lost somewhere in the consuming light.

The mare saw his markless flank but did not react.

“I know what I have to do now,” he said, looking at the ground, his voice stronger, full of purpose.  “The portal.  Every second it is held open, things get worse.  On the outside, I mean.  I always thought it wouldn’t close until Laska walked through.  I was mostly right.  In truth, it won’t close until somepony steps through.”  He turned back, locking eyes with the mare who had entered his life so recently—entered his life and saved it.  “Nothing I say now could ever take back the things I’ve done.”  He realized there was an essential question he had failed to ask.  “What is your name?”

Her mouth turned up in a smile—the same one Laska wore when she told him her name.  “Fluttershy.”

“Fluttershy,” he said, feeling the word.  He thought it was a good name.  “Fluttershy, there’s nothing left for me.  Not here, anyway.  I lost her, and I threw away everything else I had trying to get her back.  I don’t belong here.  I don’t deserve to be here.”

She stepped closer to him.  “Thade, living isn’t something that you have to earn.  Everypony deserves to live.  Life is a gift, not a reward.”

“Everypony deserves to live?  Everypony but Laska.  And your father.”

Those words stung.  She hadn’t expected such harshness, such unabated cruelty.

“I’m sorry,” he said.   His face softened, once more threatened by tears.  “I didn’t mean that.  Do you see now?  All I can do is hurt others.  I can’t stay here.”  He stepped closer, holding his head a nose away from hers.  The tears finally came now, as he neared the end of his journey.  “I thought I was doing this for love.  But I wasn’t.  It was all selfishness, selfishness and guilt.”  A thought occurred to him.  “I hope there is somepony out there who loves you,” he said.

She smiled.  “Everypony is loved by somepony.”

“Maybe.  If that’s true, then the one who loves me isn’t in this world anymore.  She’s in the next.  I need to be with her.”  He began to turn away.

“Wait,” she said.  He turned back inquisitively.  She gently reached a hoof to her wing, searching under it until she pulled out one of the most amazing things Thade had ever seen.  It was a rose, but it was also something more, an immaculate gem that seemed to radiate life.  In his mind he was in Sonselo again, handing Laska a rose, one of the billions in the field.  Except now he was the recipient.

“Take it,” she said, holding it out to him.  He stared first at the rose, then at her, and suddenly the fears and hatred he had felt before were gone.  The sadness remained, and the guilt was even worse, but he knew that it wasn’t too late.  If she would accept him back, he could undo everything.

“Thank you,” he said.  There was so much more he wanted to say, and those two tiny words seemed to hang between them, as if waiting for a climax.  Tell Celestia I am sorry, he wanted to say.  Tell her she was right and I was wrong.  Tell the ones who love you to make every moment count, to never take each other for granted, to spend summer nights together and never forget that the most important things you have are each other.  But he couldn’t say that.  He wasn’t ready, even now, as he took the rose into his mouth like a dancer, staring into Laska’s eyes the entire time, filling his own with such immense gratitude that part of it leaked and ran down his face as tears.  Without another word he turned around for the last time.  With the rose still clutched in his mouth, he began walking forward, almost instantly becoming swallowed by the brightness that came from nowhere, which bled around his figure as if he were a shadow in the sun.  Ha, step into the light, he thought humorlessly.  Maybe the poets really were right.  A sad thought struck him: I hope this is how it was for Laska.  Then he was gone.

Fluttershy stood alone in the cavern of the Spring of Magic, which now sat empty and quiet.  On the ground before her, a rose grew through a crack in the stone floor, red with life in a cavern dusty with fallen rock.

A thank-you to my readers

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This story dedicated to Kurbz and Seattle

who put up with sentences beginning with

conjunctions, characters acting stupid,

impatience on my part,

and basically all the drama that I manage to create.

Thanks!

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