Princess Cadance climbed a staircase that wasn’t anywhere, but led where she wanted to go.

Each upcoming step imposed upon her the tyranny of time, and the previous step was joyous release.

She had forgotten what seemed like ages ago why she was climbing.

But she knew she had to climb. For reasons that escaped her, she needed to climb.

A quick glance to the left impressed upon her the tapestry of astronomy, which destroyed the meaning of up. Cadance focused her gaze forward to reaffirm her direction.

She had to go up.

Up past Twilight, previous ward and current friend.

Up past Shining Armor, current love and devoted friend.

Up even past Flurry Heart, her current devotion and future friend.

But is there a future beyond the staircase in front of her? She does not know.

All she knows is that her calves ache and each forever moment drives her stir-crazy. Her only solace is that each forever only lasts a moment.

An eternity of pain that ends when her hoof touches ground, then reignites as she lifts her hoof to climb the next stair.

Climb.

Does she know where the stairs end? Does she know why she climbs?

She knows to stop climbing is to embrace death.

To stop climbing is to fail those who look up to her.

Her love, Shining Armor.

Her daughter, Flurry Heart.

Her subjects, the Crystal Ponies.

Her aunt, Celestia.

And her friend, Twilight.

Perhaps Twilight was at the top of the staircase, to soothe her pain and let her rest.

The staircase still did not end.

For days, for weeks, for years she had been rising. Her legs threatened to tear themselves to shreds, her back warned of seizure. Her heart warned of loss.

Yet she still climbed.

What direction was there to go but up? Going down wasn’t an option. Princess Cadance needed to see the top of the staircase, if only because she had spent so long climbing it.

So she kept at it.

Step after step, beat after beat, breath after breath.

Surely all of this toil would reap reward.

Surely, she told herself as her calves burned and her neck strained.

Surely its meaning would reveal itself at the end of the labor.

Surely her suffering has meaning.

Perhaps her daughter had developed into a full-grown mare, her father beating off suitors with a stick.

She chuckled ruefully at the thought. Her Shining, with flecks of grey marring his lustrous mane. Lucky to be subject to the ravages of time.

Time had lost all meaning on this perditious staircase.

No landings, no turns, only merciless up to go.

Princess Cadance wished time was on her side, tearing her apart like a pack of wolves as opposed to the dictatorial youth it imposed upon her.

Like it wanted her dead, but with no concept of death.

So it pushed her forward, away from her home, and up, away from those she cared about.

I mustn’t fret, I mustn’t fuss
I mustn’t moan, I mustn’t muss

Princess Cadance lifted her head at the ghost of words she had thought she heard, her heart threatening to skip a beat as she trained her ear to re-hear the sounds as she marched ever forward.

Ever up.

You will now break, you will now burn
You will now boil them all like worms

There it was again. She knew she had heard it. Although her tendons threatened to pop like a mighty sword held over her, she moved faster.

Anything to escape this wretched up.

I can not cry, I can not cuss
I can not talk so treasonous

Again!

The idea of a grin tantalized her face.

She would see ponies again.

She would hug, she would kiss, she would dance and sing and cry.

She just had to keep going up.

You want to fry them with the sun
You want to frolic when you’re done

Princess Cadance cared not what the words said. Only that they were words and that they were being said.

I dare not give my soul to one
Who’d break the day and call it fun

This was the purpose of life, no?

To fight and bend and march and toil until you cross a stranger along the path and share a knowing glance. That they have toiled as well.

And fought.

And bent.

And marched ever on like a soldier, knowing that if they broke, everything else would break as well.

She had to fight.

She could not break.

You dare to lock me up inside
You dare to be my scornful bride

To break now would be to betray the struggle, to render the climb meaningless. Princess Cadance needed this endless climb to have meaning, even if to one other pony.

And this pony, whose familiar voice she heard just up the stairs, was that pony.

That pony with whom she’d embrace and sob and bequeath upon them the meaning of this climb, this endless upward climb whose meaning had eluded her.

Until she saw the pony at the top of the stairs.

Inside of me you may reside
Of this I barely can abide

The one pony who would understand. Who would know.

The one pony whose gaze would embrace her like loving eternity.

You deign to give me room to yearn
To gnash and wail and whine and churn

Yes, she was close!

Princess Cadance could see the top of the staircase.

She summoned the last of her energy stores.

She pushed her muscles and tensed her back and stomped the

Last

Few

Steps

Up the staircase until she came across a

A landing, where the tapestry of the endless she had been avoiding while climbing assaulted her vision full-on, the word vision itself not doing justice to the breadth of her experience.

She became the undying and the undying became her.

Princess Cadance felt her self slip out from under her.

She felt her muscles die.

She felt her family die.

She felt her subjects and her home die.

Something inside of her laughed.

Princess Cadance thought about the ponies of Canterlot.

Their social climbing, their intricate dance of favors and backstabbing. Their eternal drive to be on top for what felt like forever, but only lasted a moment.

Princess Cadance thought about the Yaks of Yakyakistan.

Their ritualistic impulses, their cries for raw authenticity. Their smashing and stubbornness, their demands that each creature be only themselves.

Something inside of her laughed.

She saw herself, playing with Flurry Heart. Lifting her in the air, hugging her, laying her to rest.

She laughed.

A darkness penetrated Cadance’s vision as she felt comforting softness under her, cradling her.

She took a breath, the feeling of the miasmic oxygen sustaining her and washing over her, injecting life into lifeless muscles.

Princess Cadance grunted as she rubbed her muzzle and opened her eyes, her vision unfocused and blurry until something came into view.

Princess Celestia.

A glass of water dangled before her. She grasped it with her magic and gulped it down like the Wolf of Death, a strained exhale escaping as she finished. Cadance felt Celestia’s hoof running through her mane as ragged breaths escaped her lungs.

She had known everything, and everything had escaped her.

Except what she most needed to know.

Something unpronounceable.

Something inescapable.

Something sacred.

Something she had to tell the world.

She moved to get out of bed until Celestia pressed on Cadance’s chest with a hoof.

“Rest, my niece,” Celestia said in that amaranthine tone she always wears on her voice, “you’ve exerted yourself quite a bit.”

Cadance scowled. “But they have to know.” She sniffed. “Everyone has to know.”

“And you will tell them.” Celestia removed her hoof from Cadance’s chest. A sign of trust. “Through your actions.”

Cadance grunted and blinked, a sheen of moisture betraying itself upon her eyes. She rubbed her head. “I don’t understand how ponies function anymore.” She shook her head. “Not without this.”

“They climb,” Celestia said. “They climb, and climb, and climb again.” She pressed her lips together. “Tearing themselves to shreds like you used to.”

Like I just did, Cadance emoted to herself.

Princess Cadance gazed down upon Canterlot from a balcony in Canterlot Castle.

Ponies milling about, carrying about their day.

In the dark.

Blind.

Like she once was.

She sighed.

The click-clack of shielded hoofsteps danced in her ears as she sensed a companion. She said nothing, enjoying the… presence.

It was Luna, Princess of the Night who spoke. “Not all who tread the path are equipped to handle it.”

Cadance nodded, understanding the full dimensions of her statement.

If she tried to open up their eyes, they would resist, revolt. Turn on each other.

Turn on themselves.

In fact, she suspected that the pony behind her had once walked the path.

For a thousand years.

An eternity.

It probably felt like a moment.

Cadance exhaled as she felt the tyranny of time once again, through Luna.

Through her husband, who would have to leave her in the future.

Through her daughter, who would not need her in the future.

Through even Twilight, who ruefully had escaped her need long ago.

Yet need time be a tyrant?

She had a new organism to watch over. The Crystal Empire.

With its growing and retracting and growing yet again, all on impulse.

Beating and pulsing with life. The life of thousands.

Perhaps millions. Millions of endless moments spanning the breadth of time.

That reminded her.

She took a breath and muttered, “gnash and wail and want for me. Guide me through eternity.”

Luna grunted.

“I heard a verse in the endless without end. A set of rhyming couplets that never finished.” Cadance grinned. “And that is how I choose to end it.”

“A wise decision indeed.” Luna snickered.

Cadance looked back upon the city under her. She thought she saw a theft in progress.

No, it was just two foals playing pretend.

Shining Armor, her husband, embraced her tightly when she arrived home.

An eternal moment that filled her with warmth. She returned the embrace, fruitlessly wishing that this one forever would never end.

A soft projectile shattered that fantasy as she pulled away from her best friend to see her daughter, a face suggesting that Flurry Heart was very angry that Mommy was gone.

It was only a night, but to a child a night is endless. Cadance sat down and picked up the projectile. It was a stuffed snail.

Flurry’s Whammy.

Mother, Father, and Daughter played pretend.

The Father, pretending he was absolutely sure of his path in life and had no fears teasing his heart.

The Daughter, pretending that they had already impressed importance upon existence without understanding what ‘importance’ or ‘existence’ meant.

And the Mother.

The Mother, Princess Cadance of the Crystal Empire, Niece of Celestia, Wife of Shining Armor, Sister-in-Law of Twilight, and Mother of Flurry Heart.

Cadance now understood that life was a constant game of pretend. Who she was depended on what was needed.

When she was needed.

Why she was needed.

And where and how she was needed.

Her muscles may burst, her lungs may grow raw, and perhaps a few times she’d be utterly lost in the endless expanse for a few moments. No one cared about what she was doing or what she was about to do. They just needed her in this moment.

They needed her in the ever-shifting, amorphous moment.

A moment never ends… yet moments kept passing her by.

All she could do to not miss the eternal micromoments was to seize the opportunities by the reins and fully plunge into the miasmic presence of what is happening right now.

And right now, looking down at Flurry Heart, her precious baby daughter, for whom she’d sacrifice her immortal life to see succeed, to see grow.

To see not need her anymore.

… Right now, Flurry Heart needed a boop in the nose.