Guiding Light

by archonix

First published 30th of August, 2012

Calamity befalls the royalty of Equestria and, in lieu of plans that took decades to create and moments to ruin, control of the cosmos is bequeathed to the only pony Celestia had time to empower.

Book one of the De Raptura Chronicles

Ditzy "Derpy" Doo, once a humble mail mare, was elevated to godhood in a last, desperate act by Celestia moments before she and the entire royal family disappeared. Now the newly crowned Princess De Raptura must contend with the machinations of a court completely alien to her, reconcile with her daughter, make peace with Twilight Sparkle and learn how to control the sun.

And she's fairly sure she still has a package to deliver.

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The story continues in To See The Light

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Also available on Google Docs!

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"This story differentiates itself from other 'bad things happen to Equestria' stories with its smart character work and realistic, powerful emotion. We need more stories like this." -Pre-reader who likes sky pirates

Short description borrowed stolen from FanOfMostEverything.

Just Another Day

The day she had finally got the hang of the sun had been Derpy's greatest personal and public achievement, one celebrated by all of Equestria, though perhaps for differing reasons.

Though christened Princess she had never revelled in public successes, which had little meaning: they were just things she had done. She had always wished other ponies could just see that, but they didn't see. They only saw her triumph. They hadn't known that her real success lay in the little-noted presence of her youngest daughter at that first successful ceremony. Dinky had stood at the back of the balcony, just beyond the curtained doors, watching her mother stand over the adulating and somewhat singed crowd in the courtyard below.

Derpy knew the sun had risen that day not because she had learned how to control it, but because she had finally known to set it free.

The sun, eternal and undying, had become her only focus in those early days, when her terrified daughter had utterly rejected her new form and role. For the longest time the little filly had hidden whenever Derpy entered the room, run when she couldn't hide, and screamed when she couldn't run. She'd lost her firstborn child; lost her entire life. Her guiding light had left her and she'd clung like an abandoned foal to the only light she could find. The sun. Celestia's sun. Her sun.

For one hundred and twenty years, her sun.

The hallways echoed with the quiet steps of ponies going about their business as Derpy – Princess De Raptura as she styled herself in public now – made her way to the apartments she'd set aside for her daughter the day she'd come of age. The youngster had grown to be a fine mare, and an adept mage under the tuition of her predecessor's most favoured student, yet she had never taken on airs and never let herself become corrupted by the machinations of the court.

Those machinations had stuttered and fallen under Derpy's reign. At first, believing her to be a not especially complex or intelligent pony, the court had gone into overdrive in its attempts to manipulate her, gulled by her simplicity. Derpy had simply ignored them. What did she care for their needs of favour and power? And somehow... somehow it had worked out. Especially when Dinky had stepped in to manage her affairs and virtually cleared the entire problem out overnight.

Perhaps it had been the eloquent speech Dinky had given that day at court, stood between her mother's throne and the great throng. Perhaps the sincere look on her face as she gave it, the spark of passion dancing in her eyes. Or perhaps it had been the way she had welded the doors of the great hall shut and threatened to bring the entire thing down on their heads if they didn't do as they were told.

There was a lot to be said for simplicity.

Guards stood outside the apartment, eyes forward, not even acknowledging their ruler's presence. It was still a strange feeling even after all these years. Their ruler. She was a mail mare, she'd always been a mail mare. She'd never be anything but a messenger. Though, when she thought about it, she was still making a delivery every day. Large package, wouldn't fit in mailbox. Left behind horizon. Will try again tomorrow.

The door opened. A familiar face, welcoming her, beckoning her to take a seat. Tea poured into a cup, a habit of a predecessor long gone, carried forward by the only pony alive to have ever truly known her.

Twilight Sparkle moved well for her age. So did Derpy, but... she shook her head, refusing to think about it.

They spoke of the past. Memories of friends long gone, places once seen and seen again years later, changed beyond recognition. They spoke of the future, of a time when all would be different, all would be changed. They spoke of the present, a time and a place Derpy did not wish to think about. Yet here she was. Sipping tea as if it was just another day, as if she were not in this room, on this day, sharing her time with the legendary Twilight Sparkle, the most powerful mage, most powerful member of the court and, at a hundred and forty four years and with a birthday coming up in less than a month, one of the oldest mares alive. The list went on and on.

They spoke of justice. Derpy had always understood justice to be a simple affair. Wrongs righted, bad ponies given either punishment or forgiveness. Good ponies lived. It had seemed so simple at one time.

Why?

More ponies. More movement. Her eyes were blurring. Twilight, long of limb and slender and old, led her to another room. A bedroom. She almost turned and ran right then. She almost screamed. She couldn't hide.

Why her? Why now?

Celestia help me, save my light! But Celestia would not help her. Celestia was gone.

Derpy and her charge were alone now, Twilight having long departed to her own work. De Raptura considered the ancient mare in that bed, lying on her side, barely breathing. She tried to be impassive and dispassionate as she took in the sight. Derpy could not be dispassionate. This one had always been so strong, so powerful. Like her father. To the very end she had seemed to remain young, though the signs had told all the while. Only in this last year had age finally caught her, sucked the life from her limbs, from her body, leaving her a worn and tired shell. But her eyes, her eyes had never lost their dancing spark.

The sun moved, shadows moved. Derpy watched her daughter sleep on the edge of the abyss. Her only remaining child. The sun faded, and it was as if it took the only thing precious to her with it. Night fell. The moon... the moon should sleep tonight. For all she cared it could sleep forever. It was a feeble light, it had no warmth for her heart. But she danced with it anyway, just for something to distract her mind for a few moments.

The sleeping mare woke with a start and looked around, bleary-eyed and confused as a newborn foal. But the spark was still there, still dancing behind her eyes. She smiled as she looked at her mother, smiled and nodded, and lay her head down to sleep once again.

The last thing Derpy had learned about her new form was that she could feel other things. Being no longer mortal, she could perceive worlds no pony had even thought possible. Sometimes a familiar shape, a half-remembered face. Patterns. She could feel the motions of those worlds as they drew close and fled. Near and far. Back and forth. A never-ending stream of messengers to a place she might never see.

She was left with no fantasy. No need to guess. No false hope in an echoed sigh or a slackening jaw.

Her guiding light went out.

The First Day

Her thoughts strayed back over the one hundred and twenty years of her reign, the first century of her life eternal, to the very first day...

The First Day

Chaos. Pandemonium, even! The scene that greeted Twilight Sparkle within the walls of Canterlot Castle was a stark contrast to the relative calm of the streets outside. Servants rushed hither and yon, ministers of state and civil servants clumped and skulked in twos and threes and fours, heads pressed close together in urgent debate. Over everything the palace guard watched with weary, suspicious eyes, standing at every conceivable entry and exit, every pillar. There were many more than usual.

Her brother. Twilight had to find Shining Armour, he would know what was going on. He could explain the urgent summons she had received less than an hour ago, demanding her immediate presence before the Princess.

If she could find him before everyone found her, that was.

But the crowd was already parting. Few could fail to recognise the youngest Archmage in Equestria's history, fewer still the robes of office she had hastily donned on her way to the court. A wave of silence spread out from those stood around her and the crowd stepped back. WIth no choice left but to press forward, Twilight made her way through the milling throng to the great doors of the throne room.

What she found beyond was unexpected. A guard in the livery of a Commander saluted in greeting. With him stood a unicorn Twilight thought she recognised, but she was unsure where they had met. The throne beyond stood empty.

"Archmage Sparkle, ma'am, I am Commander Sure Stride, acting head of the Royal Guard."

"Acting—where's Shining Armour?"

Sure Stride swallowed and glanced at the unicorn by his side. "We don't know."

"You don't know?" Twilight took a step toward the nervous guard. "You don't know? How can you not know where my brother is? He's the Captain of the entire Guard!"

"Ma'am, please." Sure Stride took a step back as Twilight advanced on him. She felt her power rising and let it flare in her eyes and along her mane. The Commander paled visibly and took another step back.

"Tell me, Commander, what is going on. The court is in chaos! The Princess summoned me personally—"

"We know."

Twilight's ire vanished at the sound of the other unicorn's voice. She turned to the youth – though in reality she was not much younger than Twilight herself – and glared. "Speak then!"

"You never used to be this grumpy," the unicorn said. "Mom always said you were nice."

She paused and seemed to wait for a response from Twilight, but the Archmage had nothing to say. Such familiarity from any other than her closest friends was unusual these days, it shocked her to hear it from a stranger. Twilight's head tilted of its own accord as she looked the youth up and down.

"I—what are you doing here?"

"I only arrived a little while ago with my sister. The royal family—Twilight, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"They all disappeared," she said, as if relaying the weather forecast, though her eyes narrowed as she spoke.

"As far as we can tell," Sure Stride chimed in, "everyone immediately related to the royal family is gone. The Princesses, Prince Blueblood, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, a few dukes, duchesses, marquis and other lesser nobles have all completely vanished. I'm afraid it is likely your brother may have suffered the same fate."

Twilight fell to her haunches, unable to breathe. Gone. Just like that. Gone. She shook her head but couldn't say anything much in reply. What would she tell her parents? Silence stretched out in the court hall, deserted except for these two and her own self. A snuffling moan echoed around the room and Twilight wondered who could be so crass at a moment like this, until she realised it was her own voice. Her own tears. She felt her forelegs buckle and it was only the quick action of Sure Stride that saved her from an undignified flop to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Archmage Sparkle. You shouldn't have had to hear it this way."

Twilight nodded. She forced herself to all fours, leaning gratefully against Sure Stride's powerful shoulders. For a moment, with her eyes closed, she could almost believe he was her brother; but only for a moment. The smell was wrong.

The pair, Stride and the familiar unicorn, led her across the hall to the rear doors. They were the exit to the royal apartments, the private spaces to which only the Princesses, their closest friends and relations were allowed access. The corridor beyond was silent too, but a different sort of silence. The court had merely been empty. Here the silence was profound, complete. Nothing moved. All the servants were gone, sent away by the guard. Twilight's hooves padded against the soft carpets favoured by Celestia. Once favoured—no, it couldn't be true, could it? Her mentor, her friend, gone?

"When did it happen?"

Sure Stride glanced at the other unicorn again as if waiting for an objection. She didn't speak.

"We believe shortly after sunrise. The—the First Minister claimed to have witnessed the event. And other things," the Commander added, darkly. "Ever since then we've been trying to maintain secrecy while we prepare for the handover of power."

"There was a letter for you, Twilight," the other unicorn said. She levitated a scroll from some secret place and proffered it to the Archmage. Twilight's heart leapt to her throat when she noticed the royal seal. "I wasn't sure whether to keep it it for later or—I-I'm sorry, there's no good time for this."

"No kidding," Twilight muttered. She unrolled the scroll. It was from Celestia, but before she could begin to read it Twilight found her eyes filling with tears. "This can't be real..."

But it was real. The writing was recognisably Celestia's, though it was shaky and rushed. Fear or grief tinged her words. Twilight could see a few dried tear stains on the parchment and a blot of ink near the bottom.

Twilight, I do not have much time...

She rolled the parchment up and dropped it into a pocket in her robe. Later. When she'd had more time to absorb the magnitude of what she faced, when the reality had set in and she could accept what was written... whenever the insanity ended. She'd read it then. "Where are we going?"

"The Princess requires your presence."

"But—"

"This is not Celestia," Sure Stride said, choking over the familiar use of his once-ruler's name. "Before she disappeared she invested her successor. It was—she—"

"She picked my mother because there was nopony nearby she thought could fill the role," the other unicorn said. "She was supposed to pick you, but you weren't there."

"Your mother..." Twilight turned to the unicorn. They had almost reached Celestia's private chambers now, but Twilight stopped to better assess her accuser. Her face and cutie mark. "I do know you! Sparkler! But what are you doing here? You should be at the university—"

The realisation of who she was speaking to finally settled into Twilight's mind. Sparkler had spoken of her mother. Celestia had picked Sparkler's mother. That meant... meant...

Before Twilight could complete the thought, the wail of a distressed foal sprang from beyond the door of Celestia's private chambers. Without thought, Twilight ran to the door and burst it aside with a blast of magic. She stopped dead inside, the sudden realisation of what she'd done, the privacy she had breached, pouring through her mind.

A tiny unicorn filly cowered in one corner of the room, screeching at the top of her voice for her mother. On the other side a pale grey alicorn cowered, her bright golden mane billowing with each motion of her head, and her eyes closed tight against a world gone mad.

"I want my mommy!"

"I'm here, muffin," the alicorn whispered. "I'm here."

"NO!"

A pillow flew across the room, propelled by a bright magical aura and hit the poor alicorn in her face. She sagged under the blow, as if it had been stone. Her cheeks were matted wet with tears.

"I want mommy!"

"Please, I'm here! Please..."

Sparkler trotted over to the filly and picked her up, shushing all the while. She cast a sympathetic look to the alicorn and then one of pure, unbridled hatred at Twilight before departing to another room to calm her sister. The alicorn, this new Princess, seemed to collapse in on herself and began to weep.

Twilight retrieved the letter from her pocket and spread it out in the air. Sure Stride moved up beside her as she read, but she didn't care. He might as well know.

Twilight, I do not have much time left. Something has happened, I know not what, but we are lost. I cannot explain. Cadence has already gone, your brother with her, for which I am so very sorry. Others have begun to fade. Luna weakens even as I write this.

I had hoped you would be here. I hoped I could say goodbye, but I cannot. This letter must suffice.

You were to have been my heir, Twilight, had anything untoward happened. It is my eternal regret that you shall not be. I have had to choose on the hoof, and I pray to the powers that I have made the right choice, for none within the court had such peace and nobility as this one. None had such joy in life, or such generosity, or kindness. As reward for her innocence I have inflicted upon her the most terrible burden, without asking. Desperation drives my acts now, Twilight.

I face my destiny with hope. I shall see you again someday, but I know not when, nor can I explain how I know this.

Care for her. Help her. Teach her power over her sun!

My final pronouncements are on my desk. Please make sure they are read to the full court.

Forgive me, my dearest friend.

Celes

The First Night

The First Night

Bright sunlight streamed through the windows of the Royal Apartments, casting broad streaks of gold across the room and sharp, curled patterns of glowing ivory on the north wall and the heap of cushions that rested against it. The room, its previous owner long departed, felt cold and empty despite the warmth, and its new occupant could barely accept herself, let alone the place she was now expected to spend eternity.

Her nose was stuffy and raw; her throat felt as if it had swollen shut and set aflame all at once. She stared at the wall, golden eyes rimmed red and bloodshot from tears that had long since dried and refused to flow. There was nothing of comfort here, nothing that felt right or familiar, except for a small package on a table, wrapped in brown paper and tied with rough twine. So small and familiar a thing. The label it bore was mouth-written 'To the Princess', but the Princess was gone.

Wasn't she?

Someone had said she was the Princess now, which hadn't made any sense when she heard it. She'd sometimes dreamed of being some sort of princess when she was a filly but that was the dream of childhood, the fantasy that was never fulfilled and that could be put safely away in its little box when it was finished. But they'd called her De Raptura, they'd bowed and scraped and ushered her into this forsaken palace and the barren emptiness of this room, and then they'd left her alone.

By name she was Ditzy. Ditzy by nature some said, and others had nicknamed her Derpy so often that the name had sort of stuck, to the point that she even called herself that half the time. It didn't matter anyway, she knew who she was no matter what name others used. She'd always known who she was.

It had seemed like a dream. First she had been ushered into the presence of no less than Celestia herself, bearing the package that the law and her conscience required her to deliver. She'd seen that warm, sad smile and heard questions that didn't make sense and then... things got fuzzy. It had hurt. She'd felt something change in her very soul, a pain that had driven her to madness and joy that had been impossible to understand, and all the while the comforting words of the Princess in her ears, in her mind, as they took her apart and remade her.

And then they'd looked smaller and she'd been bigger and the stallion they'd had with them had been gibbering about something and fallen over, and Celestia had begged her forgiveness. Begged her, on her knees, tears pouring from her eyes like rain, because they had taken everything from her.

Forgiveness was a simple thing. To do anything but forgive would have been blasphemy, anathema. They had taken everything from her and given her everything in return and she had forgiven them, and loved them, knowing even then the burden they had placed upon her, yet not truly understanding what she would lose.

It had hurt to find out. Pain was something she had long been accustomed to. She'd always been accident-prone, and in her earlier life she'd taken the names others called her to heart, but all of that could not have begun to prepare her for what would come.

She had been open and weak and overwhelmed when her daughters had arrived. Her youngest had wailed in terror at the sight of her. Refused to accept her. To be rejected by her own child... Yet even as her soul had been ripped apart by Dinky's screams she had been proud of the growing strength of the youngster's magic, as her little muffin had thrown everything she could at her in a bid to escape.

Then she had been alone again, alone for many hours. She had cried herself to sleep, somehow cried in her sleep, and woke on tear-stained pillows in a room that was larger than her entire house. Her children were gone. Her little home, she could never return to it. Her family broken apart for the love of a princess who no longer existed.

Without them, who was she? Derpy... Ditzy... De Raptura. Princess. She hauled herself upright and sloped toward the table, head hung low, until she found the package right before her nose. To the Princess. She flapped her wings, trying to rid herself of the discomforting thought of who it was addressed to. No. She would not open it. It wasn't hers. It couldn't be hers.

A mirror on the far wall caught her eye as she turned back to the nest of cushions and she stopped, fascinated by her eyes. They were still the same. Of all the things that the Princess might have done she would have thought 'fixing' her eyes would be at the top of the list, but they were unchanged. She wasn't sure how to feel about that, yet the familiarity was the first real comfort she had found since she'd woken.

The heaped cushions that had been her impromptu bed suddenly held no appeal. She didn't want to sit and mope. She didn't want to sleep away the rest of her life in this barren, empty room. With a snort she turned from it all and stalked toward the enormous doors of her chamber, raising her head as she remembered the Princess once doing on a visit to Ponyville. She couldn't manage that ever-present smile but that didn't matter, for she had nothing to smile about.

The doors opened under the gentle pressure of her hooves and she stepped out into the broad reception beyond. An attendant leapt to his hooves at the sight of his Princess; the armour of the guards rattled as they came to attention. She looked about, all momentum lost in the face of so many servants, before her gaze finally settled on the hoofcolt. He bowed deeply.

"Your Highness?"

"F-fetch—fetch Twilight Sparkle. Please. I need to speak to her."

"At once, ma'am."

The young stallion bowed again and turned, his uniform flaring about his shoulders as he wheeled from the room at a brisk trot. Another hoofcolt stepped forward to take his place, bowing as he did so. She left him and retreated to the royal chambers without a word.

The door slammed. She leaned her side against it, swallowed, choked and then gasped for the breath she hadn't realised she was holding. After a few moments in which she could neither think nor act, she stepped away from the door and opened it just a crack, granting her a good view of one of the guards. A few moments passed. Her breath caught in her throat again as the guard rolled a quizzical eye toward her.

He winked. And then he looked away, resuming his duties as if nothing had happened. The door clicked shut once more. He didn't know it, but that guard had just saved her sanity for at least a few minutes.

In the short time she had left alone she strode the room, seking a suitable place to await Twilight. The desk was considered briefly and rejected. It wasn't hers, she had no reason to sit there. The cushions... were too informal. And she'd never thought the phrase 'too informal' would pass through her mind in any context. Maybe she was already starting to think like a princess?

While she was lost in thought, the window had pulled her toward it. She realised she found the view over the city calming, almost relieving; it could let her believe she was stood on the clouds, looking across the open sky, instead of trapped in the stone and glass cage of the palace.

The door opened without a knock and her hoofcolt entered, bowing deep.

"Twilight Sparkle, ma'am."

"Thank you," she said, without turning from the view. Hoofsteps echoed behind her and the door closed once again with a gentle thump. She let the silence draw out. What could she say?

"You wanted to see me, your Highness?"

The words felt like a knife in her side, a denial of everything she was and had been. She lowered her head and closed her eyes.

"Twilight, what's my name?"

"I... what?"

"My name," she said, turning to the Archmage. To her friend. To her filly's mentor. "Who am I?"

"Y-you're the Princess—"

Her eyes flew to the package, wrapped in its paper blanket, and her heart filled with yearning for that simpler time, just a day earlier. Just one day, that's all it had taken.

"You used to call me Derpy, Twilight."

"I-I-I'm sorry, Princess, I never meant to offend—"

"Stop, please." She closed her eyes and took a breath. "That's who I was. And I was Ditzy, and I was the mail mare and a weather pony, and I was a mother of two beautiful fillies. But who am I now?"

"Your Highness?"

"I'm lost." She turned back to the window and leaned forward until her horn touched the glass with a sparkling tink. Her jaw tightened at the alien pressure on her skull. The sting of tears returned to her eyes.

Twilight shuffled her hooves and her ears flopped back against her head, her discomfort obvious. She wanted to be anywhere but there, in her former mentor's rooms. Suddenly her ears popped forward. She took a step. "While... while I'm here, i-if... the Pr—Celestia asked me to teach you. Maybe that will help."

"Teach... like Dinky?"

"Y-yes! Like..." the Archmage swallowed and looked at her feet. They were both remembering events of just a few hours earlier. "Like that," she finished lamely.

"Where is she?"

"I had her and Sparkler moved to one of the guest suites. She's asleep by now."

A small relief. They were close, close enough, even if she couldn't go to them just yet. She felt an itch under her horn and frowned, trying to find a way to scratch it, but not knowing where to begin. Maybe Dinky had just needed time to get used to her? Maybe she was just scared by the new environment and missed her bedroom. Maybe a million other things, but the terror in her daughter's eyes... had she tears left they would have welled up afresh at the thought of those eyes.

"Your Highness, we also need to discuss your duties."

"Duties?"

Twilight gave the window a meaningful glance. The sun. She meant the sun... how could she control the sun?

"Did Princess Celestia—"

"No. And in all her writings I've studied she never mentioned it, except to say that it was unlike the unicorn methods. I'd hoped it was innate." Twilight pulled herself large cushion from the pile and primly settled upon it. When she looked up there was a tightness to her face that belied her calm demeanour.

Small details became apparent. Twilight's eyes were puffy and her lips were dry. Her mane was a mess, though it was obvious she'd tried to bring it under control, and there was a permanent, tiny twitch under her left eyelid. Without a second thought Derpy rose up, strode the short distance across the room, and drew Twilight into a deep hug.

"P-Princess—"

"Hush..." She began to rock back and forth. "It's okay, Twilight. I know this is hard for you too."

Tears glistened in Twilight's eyes, catching on her eyelashes in bright, sparkling drops as she screwed up her face against the vast pit of grief welling up within her. She wrapped her forelegs around the Princess' broad neck and buried her face in her mane.

"Why did she have to go?"

"I'm here, Twilight," she replied. She tightened her hug, nuzzling Twilight's neck as she had nuzzled Dinky's just a few days earlier. Twilight's sob pitched up into a quiet keening.

The door leaned ajar and the same guard she had seen earlier peered cautiously inside, a look of concern and curiosity on his face. He froze at the sight of the pair sprawled against one another and then his eyes went wide. She gave him a slight smile and shook her head just a fraction. Understanding dawned on the guard's face and he backed out of the room, bowing his head as he closed the door.

She wondered what rumours might be started from that single interaction... she often wondered about such things. For a while there had been a persistent belief that she was suffering a terminal brain cancer because of her eyes and a few more-than-usually accident-prone days, when the reality had been one of Dinky's teeth coming in. The resulting sleepless nights had left her more addled than even the weeks after Dinky was born, but she'd never resented the rumours. They showed that a lot of ponies cared about her in some way, even if they didn't express it directly.

Dinky... her youngest foal, her dearest treasure. She felt herself reaching out for the little spark of light that was her firstborn, instinctively seeking until she found... something.

"Dinky?"

Twilight stiffened beneath her forelegs. She slipped from the Archmage's grasp as the world slid and changed around her, until all that was left was a flowing, coiling morass of light and energy, alien and terrifying. A tiny coruscating knot came into her sight, glowing bright and golden. It seemed to react to her. It moved to her, familiar and inviting.

"Muffin!"

But something was wrong. She reached for the light but it recoiled from her, retreating into the endless glowing maze, its light fading until she was surrounded by nothing but endless, bitter-black threads. She thrust herself forward in a blind panic, searching for the light, searching for her guide for what seemed like an eternity, chasing the distant spark of thought and love and completeness that had rejected her so utterly.

Light began to grow again and her dancing firefly was lost within it. She sought the light, felt it guiding her and she clung to it, welcoming the love and warmth even as she realised it wasn't her light. Her light was gone, subsumed in the blazing stream of consciousness that enveloped her and drew her toward its heart. She flung herself at it and grasped it with all her might, drawing it down to herself, burying herself within its fire until she was completely and utterly and joyously lost.

Twilight recoiled as the Princess moaned her daughter's name over and over again. She was flat on her side and her eyes were closed, but the magic coursing through her body, leaking from her eyes like tears and wrapped around her horn, was as obvious as the sun in the sky. Twilight brushed her own power against the Princess, but felt herself repelled, almost physically flung away by sheer force of will.

The door crashed open. Sparkler, followed closely by one of the guards, threw herself against Twilight and screamed in her face. "What did you do?"

"What?"

"Your Ladyship," the guard began, but Sparkler cut him off with a wave of her hoof.

"Dinky's screaming her head off! She's terrified! What did you do to her? What did you do to my mom?"

"I didn't—"

The blow came without warning, not a gentle slap or the expression of mere annoyance but a full-bodied punch to her face. Twilight rocked back on her haunches and slid to the floor with the world buzzing around her. She tried to force Sparkler away with magic that wouldn't cooperate, but the mare was already gone anyway, dancing around her mother and shouting incoherently. Twilight rolled on her side and slipped gratefully into darkness.

... except she was still awake. She lifted her head and looked around. The Princess had stopped moaning and was lying very still, shivering on the floor, lit by the glow of a sputtering werelight Sparkler had thrown to the ceiling.

Beyond the windows the stars shone, bright and still, in a moonless sky.

Interlude

Interlude

Dinky woke with a gasp and looked around. Her neck hurt. In fact everything seemed to hurt and she couldn't tell why, but her neck hurt the most, on the inside, like when she'd been playing the shouty shouty game with her friends. Only worse. She crawled around under the sheets until she found the way out and looked around again.

"Mommy?"

"Hey there little Dink."

"Sparkler!" Dinky shuffled around again and back up to her sister, who had been resting her head on the edge of her mattress. "I think I had a nightmare."

"It's okay now, you're awake," Sparkler replied. She looked beat. Really tired. Dinky crawled over to her and gave her the biggest hug she could manage and was rewarded with a light pat on her back.

"I wanted to tell mommy about it, but she's not here."

"She's—"

"Sparkler, I wanna go home, this place is scary."

Sparkler sighed and put her foreleg over Dinky's back. "I know, little Dink, but we can't go home right now. We need to be here for mommy, okay?"

"Is mommy sick?" Before Sparkler could answer, the door cracked open and a familiar face leaned in. Dinky gasped and leaped to her hooves. "Twilight!"

Dinky made to move toward Twilight but Sparkler suddenly grabbed her with both forelegs. She looked up at her sister. Sparkler's face was scary.

"Get out."

Twilight flinched. "Sparkler—"

"Get out!"

Sparkler's horn glowed and the door slammed against Twilight's side. She grunted and grit her teeth but refused to back away. With a loud cry Dinky grabbed the door in her own magic before Sparkler could do anything to it again.

"Sparkler stop, that's Twilight! She's my friend!"

"She's the reason mom got stuck here," Sparkler growled. She strained for a few seconds as Dinky opened the door wide and then gave up, panting for breath.

"Twilight made mommy sick? But... b-b-but that..." Dinky turned to Twilight, tears filling her eyes. How could that be true? It wasn't fair! "You hurt mommy?"

Twilight was crying too, she was really crying. She couldn't have done anything bad, she was a friend. Dinky sniffed and trotted to the end of the bed to get closer to Twilight and noticed she'd brushed her mane down over her face like the time her mommy had been shouting at that meanie who'd said he wanted to be their daddy and stayed with them that one time. Twilight looked like she'd been crying a lot already.

"Dinky, your mommy isn't sick. She's... she's doing some very important work and she's had to be by herself for a while—"

"You lying bitch!"

"What do you want from me, Sparkler! At least you still have her!"

"You—"

"No! You had your piece," Twilight yelled back, and for a moment a hoof strayed to her face. She stamped it on the floor. "The mare that was practically my mother for half my life disappeared into thin air this morning and I didn't even get to say goodbye! I wasn't there for her, now I have to live with the consequences of that for the rest of my life!"

Panting, shivering, Twilight looked down at Dinky, then back at Sparkler. She turned as a guard loped down the corridor toward her. He stopped short, peering at Twilight's face, before stepping into the room.

"The Princess just woke, Lady Sparkler, ma'am. She asked for you."

Sparkler shot a final angry glare at Twilight as she forced her way out past the guard. She paused a moment to look at Dinky, then tossed her head and galloped off, leaving the filly very confused and more than a little scared. Why hadn't she been asked for as well? Dinky crawled back to the top of the bed and curled up against the pillow, never taking her eyes from Twilight.

"Miss Twilight, are you gonna teach me magic again?"

"If your mother allows it," she replied, before turning to the guard. "Please return to your duties, sergeant. I'll look after Lady Dinky."

"Ma'am."

The guard departed, leaving Twilight and Dinky alone. They stared at each other for a few minutes and Dinky could feel something moving between them, something about her magic, but she wasn't sure what. A moment later Twilight smiled.

"You're getting very strong."

"I practised everything you showed me," Dinky replied proudly. She stretched out her forelegs and tried to hide a yawn. "I think I'm stronger than Sparkler now."

"I noticed." Twilight walked to the bed and sat down as close to Dinky as she could manage. She tilted her head and smiled. "Do you know what happened to your mother, Dinky?"

"Sparkler thinks you did something to her but you wouldn't. You're nice."

"She's just worried about you." Twilight's eyes focussed on her. She was still smiling but now she seemed really sad a well. "Dinky, I know a lot of things are scary right now. I want you to be brave, okay?"

"Mommy always says I'm brave!" Dinky snuggled into her blankets and wrapped her forelegs together to make a sort of pillow. She took a breath. "Did the scary mare get her?"

"The what?"

"The scary mare. She's got a big horn and big wings and she looks really pretty but she's so... She looks like mommy, b-but she's not..." Dinky choked and swallowed. Twilight looked as scared as she felt now. "S-She's not mommy but she's got her cutie mark. She tried to chase me in my dream but I got away!"

"Oh, Dinky... your mom wasn't taken by a scary mare."

Twilight was sad again. Dinky wriggled toward her and put her forelegs around Twilight's neck. "It's okay Twilight, she won't be able to get you either. You're way stronger than mommy, or me, or even the Princess!"

Dinky yawned again. All this talking had made her really tired. It felt like it had been night-time for ages already. Twilight patted her back and then gently lifted her back under the covers.

"Time you went back to sleep," she said with another gentle smile. Dinky didn't bother trying to argue.

Sparkler stormed through the corridors of Canterlot castle without heed for the staff and functionaries in her way. She'd already memorised the route between her guest room and the royal apartments. Now she walked it almost automatically, barging past maids and hoofcolts without even a sideways glance.

The nerve of that mare, daring to spin that stupid foal's story about the Princess being some sort of adoptive mother for her! As if that made any difference! She still had her real parents, she wasn't faced with the possibility of losing the only stable thing in her life. She was just a bitter old nag who couldn't stop meddling. Why couldn't she leave them alone?

The guards at her mother's new home wisely kicked open the doors and stood back when they saw her approaching. She glared at them anyway, on principle, and trotted through to her mother's chambers without another thought.

Within the opulent reception, she slowed. Candles burned on every fixture and a bright fire roared in the hearth, but the room was empty. Sparkler lost her bearing then. She'd expected her mom to be right there. Moving with more caution, Sparkler made her way across the room to the far doors.

Another corridor waited beyond, one wall lined with enormous windows that would normally catch the sun almost all day long, but currently opened up onto the broad night-lit vista of Canterlot and the southern reaches. She ignored the view and the small doors on the other side of the corridor, and walked to the end, to another, much larger door that stood ajar. Light poured from it, warm and inviting. Its hinges creaked loudly as she nosed at the door and opened it a fraction.

"Sparkler?"

Her mother sounded as if she'd just woken up after a particularly heavy night out. Not that she ever went out, something Sparkler had occasionally complained about in her more private moments. It would have been nice to spend some time with just the two of them occasionally... She put the thought aside and pushed the door open.

It was a bedroom. An enormous bedroom, far more richly appointed than the study at the other end of the hall. Shelves lined the walls, filled with more books than she'd ever seen outside a library, fighting for space the knick-knacks and trinkets collected over a lifetime longer than she could possibly hope to comprehend. A desk sat under one of the broad south-facing windows. A round bed the size of their entire living room dominated the rest of the space space, smothered in pillows and thick blankets, beneath which her mother lay sprawled on one side. The once-pegasus turned bleary eyes to her daughter and smiled.

"Mom!" Sparkler trotted forward, tossing her head with relief at the sight of her mother. She nuzzled at her mother's new, oversized head, feeling oddly comforted by the sight. "I was scared you wouldn't wake up."

"I know, sweetie, I know." Her mother struggled into a more presentable position and stretched out a hoof to Sparkler's shoulder. "I was scared too, but it's all right now."

"When Dinky started crying, I—"

"Is she okay? Is..." The alicorn who was her mother looked into Sparkler's eyes. Something inside her seemed to wilt. She lowered her head and took a breath. "She's still scared of me."

"It's Twilight's fault," Sparkler growled.

"Sparkler, it's not. She's just as hurt by this as we are."

"But—"

"No buts!" Her mother snuggled around on her bed and rested her chin on a pillow to better look at Sparkler. The newly-minted alicorn's eyes were still the same, Sparkler realised. Still so pretty, even if right now they were giving her the look. "She needs help just like we do."

"I hate her."

"Sparkler, she's the closest thing I have to a friend in this place and she's the only one that can help me learn to live with all this..." She waved a hoof at the room in general. "I need her. We all need her."

"Mom..."

"Please? If not for me, then at least for Dinky."

"I—mom, you—I don't..." She bowed her head. There was no way she could argue with her mother, not without breaking both their hearts. Even over this. "Fine, I'll try. But she—"

"Ah! No buts, remember?"

Sparkler's ears fell back against her head. "Fine."

A hoof moved to stroke her and her mother smiled that loving smile she'd always had. Sparkler soon found herself relaxing under the repetitive motion, and just as soon felt her eyelids starting to droop.

"Mom, can... can I say here? Just for a bit?"

"Sure, sweetie, but aren't you a bit old to snuggle with your momma?" She moved aside and pulled back the covers for Sparkler. "Not that I'm going to stop you."

Sparkler crawled into the bed next to her mother and snuggled up against her broad body. She noticed the difference in size straight away. Alongside the towering form of her mother she felt as small as a filly. With a gentle sigh she stretched out under the comfort of long, slender forelegs. A wing folded over her, covering her entire body like a feathery duvet.

"Mom?"

"Mmhm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too," her mother replied, as Sparkler drifted off to sleep. "Both of you."

She waited until her daughter was asleep and gently eased herself from the bed. The darkness of the windows said it was night but she was no longer sure of the time; it could have been morning by now, for all she knew. The sun...

It had moved. Her mind had moved it, but now it was gone from her again, lost somewhere on the other side of the world. She dreaded to think what was happening out there. Could it be worse than here? Perhaps... in her mind's eye she saw fields baking in eternal sunlight, cracked and dry lake-beds and rivers filled with nothing but sun-scorched stone. The Princess shook her head and snorted her frustration. Her imagination was far too vivid.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to that place again, the dark place, where she'd seen her guiding light. It wasn't magic. She was quite sure of that, knowing a little of how magic felt from Sparkler and Dinky and Twilight. It was something deeper. More personal. She could see... life. Had Celestia been able to see this all the time?

Her light appeared in the distance, quiescent, hovering in the way she'd already come to associate with light sleep. Another was with it, larger, oh so powerful and so familiar, but it wasn't hers. She moved as close as she dared and watched the familiar spangles of bright life for a while, until the larger seemed to notice her presence.

Of the sun there was no sign. She had chased her light to it last time, but that had left her little one terrified and screaming. She couldn't do that again. Not again. For a while she searched, moving this way and that through the darkness, but she couldn't find the sun anywhere. Eventually she withdrew into herself and opened her eyes.

Towering windows reflected the brightly lit room behind her. She could see Sparkler snoozing fitfully in her bed, and her own face staring back from the darkness. The fact that it was hers was still obvious. She closed her eyes, one after the other, watching carefully as the world spun into focus each time.

After some thought she poked at her mane, guiding a tress of her forelock to fall across the bridge of her muzzle until her twisted eye was hidden. She looked at herself again; her reflection stared back at her through a single golden circlet, looking so much like the eclipse she'd seen a year after Princess Luna had returned. That day the sun had hidden behind the moon, only to crown it with a golden wreath of flame. It had been the first eclipse for over a thousand years, and the most beautiful thing she'd seen for some time.

Turning from the window, she crawled back onto the bed and snuggled down into the sheets. Sparkler mumbled under her breath as a broad wing wrapped over her body again. A gentle nuzzle to the back of Sparkler's neck brought calm and peace, and the Princess watched her adoptive daughter fall into a deep, restful sleep.

Proclamation

Proclamation

"The House recognises the honourable member for Trottingham East."

"Mister Speaker, if it please the House, for obvious reasons the question of the royal succession is one that has not been considered for many centuries prior to the existence of this House or indeed the existence of this great nation. It has been Tori policy for many decades that such a contingency should be put in place, to guarantee a smooth transfer of power should the unforeseeable arise, and yet the honourable gentlecolt has repeatedly refused to address the need for such a contingency in all his years as leader of the government. In this time of great turmoil, has the honourable gentlecolt decided to lower his horn against this House once again, or will he accept the need to plough a new furrow?"

"The First Minister!"

"Mister Speaker, if the honourable gentlecolt—"

"—shame—"

"—sit down—"

"—another day of this—"

"—please, if the honourable—"

"—where's the sun ya bastard—"

"The House shall come to order!"

"If the honourable gentlecolt and his party wish to make party-political hay out of a constitutional and indeed existential crisis then they are free to do so, but mister Speaker, neither this party nor this government feel now is the time to raise the issue of the restoration of the Unicorn Throne, nor—"

"—raise a frost tax why don't you—"

"I will have order!"

"—nor do we consider the issue one for debate at this time! The House has already accepted the necessity for the emergency reading of these Proclamations. Mister Speaker, the government submits to the will of the House on this matter and I hope the right honourable gentlecolt opposite can do likewise."

"At this time the House shall entertain formal requests for emergency recess. The House recognises the honourable member for Canterlot North."

"Mister Speaker, the committee of the Back Stalls now petitions to permit the reading of the Proclamations and to formally request emergency recess to fully assemble."

"The House accepts the petition and declares recess, to assemble again in one hour."

"I've never been in Parliament before," Twilight mused.

Stood atop the stranger's gallery as she was, Twilight could see down the entire length of the main hall and its several ranks of severe wooden stalls, each lined with thick green pillows. Most were empty. Magically enhanced candles burned in every chandelier to ward off the persistent darkness beyond the great stained-glass windows lining the upper reaches of the chamber. A few Members remained, either chatting to one another, contemplating some issue of government – at least she hoped – or, in one notable case, fast asleep.

"That's my MP," Sparkler muttered. She glared at the snoozing mare and shook her head. "This talking shop never did anything worthwhile, why did the Princess ever bother with it?"

"Because she didn't want to run the entire country herself, I suppose."

"They don't run the country either!"

Sparkler turned from the gallery and walked out a little way to the lobby with her head held high, already slipping into the role of a noble's daughter. Twilight could see the pain in her eyes even so. The young mare was getting a crash-course in all the worst aspects of Equestrian politics, on top of all the other burdens she already carried, burdens that were somehow far worse for how domestic they appeared compared to Twilight's own. All she had to do was teach the new Princess how to raise the sun...

It had been night for the better part of two days. Nearly thirty hours of constant, moonless night with just the stars for company. It was cold, though the steady wind that had sprung up from the west carried enough warmth to stave off the frosts in most places. Already there were complaints of crops dying off, merely unobservant panic and hyperbole of course, but the panic would become very real if she couldn't help the new Princess overcome her inability. And yet here she was, stuck in Parliament because of some legal arcana that required her to be there. Twilight sighed and shook her head, trying to force her mane into a more presentable shape. It didn't work.

She followed Sparkler to the lobby. A pair of maids from the palace were there, playing a simple game of catch with Dinky. The filly was larger than Twilight remembered, but still at that age where they could bounce back from nearly anything. Anything except her mother suddenly changing size, it seemed.

"Sparkler."

The mare shot her another angry glare, but quickly tempered it. And that was another issue. She still blamed Twilight for this, though they both knew it wasn't fair. Yet Twilight blamed herself too. How could she not?

"I'd like you to come and stand with me. I think... I don't know, but I think they need to see something to make them realise who they're dealing with now."

"Dinky?"

"No. It wouldn't be fair. And I know it's not fair to you either," Twilight added before Sparkler could say anything. "But you're an adult and you can refuse if I ask. She's just a filly."

Sparkler narrowed her eyes at Twilight, then turned to watch her little sister playing and giggling with the maids. Everything was different. Nothing could go back. "Okay. But not because you asked. Mom needs us to be strong for her."

"Thank you."

Twilight fluffed her robes around herself and walked to the far end of the lobby, where a guard waited to escort them to the inner chambers. She paused a moment to be sure Sparkler followed and then nodded to the guard, who opened the door and led them through into a dim, broad corridor.

The building was ancient, built on pre-classical lines, a maze of thick stone pillars infilled with wooden panelling, rendered almost black by polish and time. Most of the walls were decorated with arched and geometric motifs, rendered in exquisite detail, interspersed with occasional frescoes depicting key moments from Equestria's history. Most of them seemed inordinately focussed on unicorns.

They walked in silence until they reached another small lobby. A few senior civil servants waited, along with the First Minister and the Speaker of the House, who were conversing quietly over their drinks. The Speaker turned slightly as they entered.

"Ah, Archmage Sparkle. And... who is your companion?"

"The eldest daughter," one of the civil servants muttered in his ear. "Lady Sparkler, I believe."

"Yes, yes, thank you, Sir Huphrey. Welcome! Would anypony care for refreshment? Sadly we cannot countenance anything other than tea at the moment, one of those odd little rules of the House, but we have a very wide selection." He smiled between the pair, looking at each in turn but neither answered. "No? Oh well, there'll be plenty of time afterwards. Won't there, Alabast?"

The First Minister grunted a half-hearted assent. He placed his drink on a nearby table and turned to face them pair. "Sparkler. Nothing else?"

"Doo," Sparkler replied, evasively. "Or Hooves. Depends who you ask."

"I understand you were adopted?"

Twilight stepped forward and raised her hoof. "Perhaps, gentlecolts, there would be a better time and place."

Both stallions looked at her closely. The First Minister raised his eyebrows and glanced at the Speaker.

"Been in a fight, Lady Twilight?"

"What? Oh... uh, just— just a slight mishap at the University." Twilight stroked her mane a little and forced herself not to look at Sparkler. She hadn't realised the bruise was still so noticeable. It only surprised her that she hadn't thought to emplace a healing spell, but there wasn't any time for that now. "I don't believe anyone will be paying attention to my face after this."

Twilight flourished a copy of the Proclamations and held it aloft for the group to see. All present fell silent as they saw the Great Seal hanging from one corner of the scrolled document. It was impossible to fake, sealed not merely with wax and gold but a magical imprint that was obvious as the moon in the night sky. The Speaker regarded the seal for a few moments, reluctance and envy battling for control of his features.

"Who gets the honour?"

"As the most senior member of the court, that particular role falls to me," Twilight said. She lowered her head just a little, trying to hide the sudden feeling of loss and abandonment. "I..."

"It's all right, m'dear, everyone will understand if you want to pass the—"

"No! No, I just— I just miss her."

"We all do," another of the civil servants replied. Twilight recognised him as an occasional parliamentary liaison to the palace. He'd spent a lot of time with Luna over the last few years. Perhaps there had been something more to it than merely professional courtesy.

A bell rang, interrupting their thoughts. The Speaker rolled his eyes to the ceiling and put down his drink. "Duty calls. Fillies, gentlecolts..."

He bowed fractionally and ascended a short flight of steps out of the room. The roar of voices echoed back momentarily as he opened the door to his dais, then cut off again moments later. Twilight took a breath and glanced at the First Minister before turning to Sparkler. "This way."

She led the other unicorn to another door and another flight of stairs. This led to the Royal Balcony, the traditional throne set aside for the Princess on the rare occasions she had addressed parliament. Now it would be for her. Just for one day.

The roar resumed as they stepped out onto the balcony, with the Speaker already shouting for order and having trouble making himself heard above the mob. Twilight ascended the final steps to the throne and then hesitated. She couldn't sit there. It wasn't right. She glanced at Sparkler and shook her head fractionally before descending to the balcony rail.

The rumbling crowd began to settle down, silence spreading more rapidly as they spied the Archmage and an unknown unicorn stood before the empty throne – the breach of protocol alone was enough to quiet most tongues. Twilight put on the face she'd learned from Celestia so long ago, the serene smile, the very image of detached calm, and somehow it seemed to calm her spirit.

"The House recognises Archmage Twilight Sparkle," the Speaker intoned, before seating himself.

Clearing her throat, Twilight unfurled the scroll. She hadn't read it before coming and suddenly she panicked, terrified that she'd picked the wrong one. But no, Celestia had written her a little note at the top to re-assure her it was indeed the right document. A tear squeezed out of her eye as she saw the familiar writing and that signature, assured and calm.

Good luck, she'd added. I believe in you.

She snuffled and cleared her throat again, trying to clear the lump she suddenly found there.

"Mister Speaker, members of the House, mares and gentlecolts, it is with a heavy heart that I read to you these, the very last proclamations of her Highness, Celestia, Princess of Equestria, Regent of the Sun, and of Luna, Princess of the Night, Regent of the Moon." Twilight paused to look over the assembled throng. They were staring at her. One or two glanced at Sparkler, frowning. None dared speak. She took a breath.

"Now let it be known before heaven and earth that I, Celestia, do proclaim that the events that shall shortly transpire are the work of nature alone, and that no faction shall attempt to use these events to further any cause against the unity of Equestria or against the unity of our ponies, or the throne.

"I, Celestia, do hereby declare first my successor and invest upon her all privileges, rights, powers and responsibilities of the office of Princess, Ruler of Equestria, Regent of the Sun, etcetera etcetera, to commence from the moment I am no longer able to hold office.

"We name hence the pegasus, Ditzy Doo of Ponyville, lately known by Derpy, Derpy Hooves and Ditzy Hooves, to succeed the Celestial and Lunar thrones, hereafter to reign as Princess De Raptura, by her own assent.

"We hereby bequeath all royal estates, titles, treasures, holdings and covenants to Princess De Raptura, henceforth and until such time as she chooses to relinquish such title.

"We hereby dissolve the House Blueblood, from which no issue has been presented, and strip all claim of said House upon the Seat of Canterlot and the Duchy thereof, and deny any right for petition of claim over said Seat or Duchy to any House, Family or Individual.

"We raise the unicorn Amethyst Sparkler Star, and grant unto her and her issue in perpetuity the Duchy of Canterlot, and such rights and privileges as become her new station."

Twilight glanced at Sparkler, looking for a reaction. The newly minted Duchess stared off into the distance and seemed completely and utterly lost. Not such a surprise really.

"We establish the Duchy of Ponyville immediately upon the reading of this proclamation and detail its status, boundaries and responsibilities as lodged with the Royal Cartographer's Office, to include the Everfree Forest, Whitetail, the town of Ponyville and environs.

"We hereby raise the unicorn Dinky Doo, daughter of De Raptura, and grant unto her and her issue in perpetuity the Duchy of Ponyville, to be administered by crown proxy until she is of age to assume her responsibilities.

"I, Celestia, do now abdicate in favour of De Raptura, who shall assume the throne the following midnight from the reading of this proclamation to Parliament.

"I, Luna, Princess of the Night Sky, Regent of the Moon, Duchess of Hesperia and the Bit Islands, do hereby abdicate in favour of Re Raptura and further appoint Her Grace the Duchess Amethyst of Canterlot to assume whichever duties of the Night Court to which she is willing, or require that a suitable proxy be appointed.

"Let none challenge the authenticity of this proclamation. By order of..." Twilight paused at the signature. It would be the last time she'd see it written fresh. "C-Celestia, Princess, on behalf of the Crown and the State."

"Well that should keep those Tori idiots quiet, at least," First Minister Alabast grumbled, pouring himself a fresh cup of tea. "You could practically see the Platinum Crown reflected in their eyes..."

"I say, steady on old chap, I happen to be one of those 'idiots'."

"Oh. Of course, Lanceroth. My apologies."

"You can't deny the need for some sort of contingency after the last few days events." Lanceroth tugged at his robe collar and rolled his eyes. "Blasted thing. Anyway, we're more than happy the monarchy has retained its stability, even if the sun is still... well. Your lot would have us a republic the first chance you got."

"And your issue with that would be...?"

"Well. Tradition for one thing."

"You realise the irony of an earth pony chewing off a unicorn's ear over 'tradition' yes?"

Lanceroth smiled and raised his cup in mock salute. "I may not be old blood like you, Alabast, but we Earth Ponies have our traditions too y'know. And I'm sure the Archmage agrees that the stability of our system of government is paramount, what?"

Twilight Sparkle blinked as both stallions turned their attention to her. Lanceroth winked.

"Oh, er... well. The impartial oversight of an independent monarchy is what united our ancestors and ended centuries of conflict. And besides, I can hardly argue against a system that I'm so deeply part of, can I?"

"Partial," the First Minister muttered.

"Well-placed to understand," Lanceroth shot back. Then they both laughed, much to Twilight's confusion. "Forgive our game, Archmage. Politics may require us to oppose one another but we're all part of the same big happy family in the end. And I understand that you know the new Princess from, where was it, Ponyville?"

"Yes. She was the— I spent a little while training her daughter before I was appointed to my current post. Hard to believe it's not even been a year."

"That who was with you on the balcony?"

"No, that was Sparkler. Um... Her Grace Amethyst of Canterlot, I suppose. Celestia help her when—" Twilight closed her eyes and shook her head. She lowered her drink. "Excuse me, I..."

Lanceroth gave her a sad smile and gently patted her shoulder. "It's all right, young Twilight. Your relationship was closer than most, you're allowed a few slips."

Her tight smile as he trailed off said as much as they needed to know. Twilight nodded to both stallions and turned, looking for Sparkler. Except Sparkler was back at the palace, having been rushed away rather unceremoniously by a squad of guards after a slight breakdown in the lobby. Dinky had returned with her. Twilight had remained, partly because of duty, partly because she wanted to avoid the inevitable task that faced her tonight.

The moon would not rise for a while, of that she was sure, but the sun... the sun didn't have much choice. And that meant Twilight didn't have much choice. She'd avoided her duties long enough.

"Quite a flighty one," the First Minister intoned, oblivious to her internal torment. He peered at Twilight's face again, tilted his head and smiled. "And she appears to have a rather mean left hook too."

Twilight snorted. "I'd better get back to the palace. I have to attend the Princess."

"She must be a remarkable mare to have beaten you to the punch," Lanceroth said, smiling broadly. The First Minister grunted and muttered something under his breath. Twilight's jaw tightened, but she managed to smile.

"Remarkable doesn't even begin to cover it," she replied.

Day Court

Day Court

"Hear ye, hear ye, Day Court now stands in session. All rise for her Eternal Highness Princess De Raptura, Regent of the Sun and Moon, Carrier of the Solar Orb, Protector of the Realm, the Ever Undimmed!"

"Are we gonna have to go through that every day," a voice called from beyond the throne.

Heads turned. Mostly they turned to First Minister Alabast Star, standing to the side of the throne as temporary proxy for the Crown, his face as impassive as he could muster. Rumour had it he'd been present when the new Princess was invested by the now sadly departed Celestia and Luna, that he'd witnessed the entire thing, and that he had not been very happy.

Of course nobody could be happy today. Celestia was gone. Nobody knew why or how, or indeed where, but she was gone as if she'd never existed. At first some had said she'd been overthrown; others that she'd retired to Fancè or some other nice place with hot sun and hot mares, and that she'd taken Luna with her. Luna had been kidnapped and Celestia had given up the throne to save her. They'd been assassinated in a failed coup by the Elements of Harmony. They had turned into hideous beasts after releasing an ancient curse. Somepony had threatened to shoot one of the royal pets unless she left the country.

Anyone who had seen the sun falter in its course days earlier would have known that most of the idle chatter was the talk of fanciful idiots. When night fell early and the sun didn't rise the next morning all the talk ended. Celestia was gone. Luna was gone, Cadence was gone, a number of other senior members of the nobility were gone. Disappeared without a trace. Talk of secret plots fell apart when so many had simply... gone.

Then the rumours of replacement had begun to surface: that Celestia had taken a desperate measure to invest an heir with all her power before surrendering to whatever befell the diarchy. A normal pony elevated to godhood? It was too much! Speculation had naturally focussed on the protégé, Twilight Sparkle, but that rumour had been fairly comprehensively scotched by her still very unicorn-shaped presence around the castle, where she had continued haranguing the Court and generally acting out her role as the most senior of the Princess's advisors on the Privy Council. Close associates of the Archmage were quickly examined and dismissed as unlikely heirs, and soon the search was on for who it possibly could be.

When no suitable candidate could be identified, the nobles had started a restive campaign for their own elevation. Surely, with Celestia gone and the sun in hiding, there was a need to find an alternative solution? Rumours that the sun had been released to a completely natural orbit were scotched as soon as they began. Look at the stars, the naysayers would say, before countering the argument with one of their own. The sun had to be returned or crops would start to die, and ponies soon after. 'Restore the Unicorn Throne' became the cry of the nobility. Return to the stability of the old monarchies, bring back harmony through other means. If it meant kicking a few upstart earthers and featherheads out of Canterlot then that was a fair price for saving the entire world.

Apocalyptic cults and old religions thought long-dead resurfaced with a vengeance, their prophets and priests and evangelists screaming from every available street corner, demanding the return of the ancient ways, beseeching the populace to forgo their pride and humble their bodies to the old rituals of the gods. Riding the popular fear, the great noble houses proposed again and again for the restoration of the tribal system whilst their scholars sought to reestablish the cabals necessary to move the sun.

When the Last Proclamations had been read before Parliament, all had assumed that the apocalyptic fervour would die away. The nobility had quieted, content to rest and wait a short while to see how the tail would shake out, but amongst the general population, the end-of-the-world fervour had risen to fever pitch. The world was ending, they contended. The celestial throne had fallen and would never rise again. The gods had punished ponykind for its hubris in rejecting their dominion, and cast the world into the realm of Tempus Pater, there to end its days in ice and cold. Even now the distant yell of a street preacher pierced the throne room, proclaiming the end of all things.

Candles burned bright in every chandelier, and braziers glowed throughout the room, warding off the icy chill of the long night and hiding the great ceiling frescoes behind a pall of blue-grey smoke. The dark had reigned for four days.

Now the Court assembled to greet their new Princess, though her position would not be formal until her coronation a few days hence. As such the titles were meaningless, habitual remnants of the previous incumbent, a merely promised island of stability in the wine-dark sea of change.

Silence reigned in the throne room. The Proclamations had declared an unknown pegasus from an outlying provincial town as the new Princess, stripped one house of its rank, created another from whole cloth, and in the process completely overturned centuries of tradition and privilege. The nobility, though quiescent, were not happy. The First Minister, still standing at the foot of the Celestial Throne, was not happy. Archmage Twilight Sparkle, glaring out over the crowd with worn and bloodshot eyes, was most certainly not happy.

The Court waited as quiet hoofsteps echoed from beyond the throne. Necks craned as the the still-acting Captain of the Guard, dress uniform sparkling in the candlelight, circled the dais. He bowed to the empty throne and then to the Archmage, before turning to stare out over the crowd. If he was upset, his impassive face did not betray it.

Now would be the moment they'd see this De Raptura. A pegasus. A susurration filled the air, scandalised whispers rising as the idea of a commoner taking the throne became perceptibly real. No pegasus could move the sun or control the stars. What would she do, fly up and push? The whispers grew in strength, dark and angry, until a sharp glare from the Archmage silenced them.

Another pony stepped cautiously from behind the dais. She moved with grace and dignity, her wings spread with beneficent love for her people, naked except for a slender circlet and a ring on her horn that bore the Celestial Star. The golden tresses of her mane drifted against her sleek grey body, glowing bright in the light of a thousand candles. One side of her face was obscured by a vibrantly blond lock of her mane, but on the other her single, visible eye shone like a ring of molten copper.

The crowd sighed at the sight of the alicorn and began to relax. Perhaps things wouldn't be so—

She tripped. It was not a dignified trip, no mere stumble to signify the humility of her ascent to office. De Raptura went flying, hooves flung every which way as she fell against the throne. Then the throne fell from the back of the dais with a resounding crash, taking the Princess, First Minister and a large portion of the royal regalia with it. Several thumps echoed around the great hall as the flags of state toppled one by one into the pile.

A voice called out from beneath the fallen symbols of the nation. "My bad!"

The throne room was cleared for an hour while everything was put back in its rightful place. Once again the First Minister and the acting Captain Sure Stride stood at the side of the solar throne, once again the Archmage sat at the foot of the dais, ears folded back and face set as she surveyed the returning crowd.

The Royal Hoofcolt stepped forward, opened his mouth to speak and then seemed to think better of it. He had a simple job, not very demanding. All he had to do was say the line, but after that morning's performance his heart wasn't really in it. Maybe tomorrow.

De Raptura, Princess, deity, stepped forward with a beatific smile on her face. She ascended the throne without incident and seated herself before the assembly, one golden eye taking in the scene, the other still hidden behind the long curls of her mane. After a few moments her smile seemed to be straining. The crowd shuffled, waiting for something to happen, but the Princess simply sat and stared at them as if she didn't know what she was supposed to do.

Her ear twitched. She glanced at the First Minister, who rolled his eyes and sighed, not happy in the least. He leaned over to whisper in the ear of the new Princess, who nodded thoughtfully at his words and then seemed to assent to whatever proposal he had given. The hoofcolt was beckoned toward the throne as a three-way whispering match developed.

Such a breach of protocol was unheard of, as if the new Princess had not been trained—but of course, a mere commoner could hardly be expected to know how to behave in Court. A commoner, with not even a hint of any link to the nobility, ascending the Celestial Throne...

The steady gaze of the Archmage was all that kept the Court from erupting. Whatever trials the young unicorn had been through in the last few days had surely taken their toll, for she looked as if she'd aged several years overnight. Her expression as her gaze swung slowly back and forth across the assembled scions of Canterlot society spoke volumes. Don't play with me, it said. Don't tempt me to do something drastic and painful. One or two of the lesser nobles glanced toward the doors, perhaps planning an escape if anything started to go bad.

"Day Court shall be seated," bellowed the hoofcolt in a voice that brooked no disobedience. A hundred or more rumps slapped down on the scattered cushions and carpets of the throne room. Faces turned, attentive, as the Princess cleared her throat and looked around.

"M-My... loyal subjects... I come—we come before you... we..." She cleared her throat again. "I'm sorry. I'm really not good at this. A week ago I was a mailmare and all I had to worry about was feeding my two fillies and keeping dry on my route. I never wanted to be a princess, but when I was chosen by Celestia I couldn't say no. She needed my help and I couldn't turn her down even though it's meant giving up everything I had before."

She looked over the crowd again; her smile faltered at the hostility she saw there. De Raptura, Princess, swallowed and perhaps tried to think charitable thoughts about her silent interlocutors.

"I'm very sorry about the sun. Twilight is still teaching me how to use my magic and with her help I think I can do it, but—but I'm sorry. Now. Um..." She tapped her hoof and looked at the First Minister. The embattled stallion took a breath and closed his eyes, refusing to meet her gaze. "I guess—I guess that's it. Thank you, everypony."

None spoke in the tense silence that followed, broken only by an occasional cough from somewhere near the back of the hall as the Princess looked around their number, her eye darting back and forth. She was unable to hear the single thought that rang loud in the minds of the brightest of those before her.

Opportunity.

Celestia's grip on power had been absolute for millennia. Her unmoving presence and her ability to think and plan events decades, even centuries in advance in the never-ending battle of wits between the crown and the nobility had led to a stalemate that none had ever hoped or dared to overturn. She had tolerated a certain amount of corruption and graft, perhaps considering it the price worth paying for their continued loyalty. Yet, whilst their machinations had gone on and the disputes and feuds between the great houses had persisted over the centuries, they had always been tempered by Celestia's ability to stomp on them whenever she wished, from a very great distance, and often with events set in train years beforehand.

Suddenly that was all gone. Suddenly the great weight had been lifted from their collective withers, the yoke of feigned obedience to the eternal monarch soon to be but a distant memory. It was a blessing. No noble seated on that throne would have permitted anything other than the continuance of the status quo, with a few small favours tossed out here and there to cement her position, but this was not a noble. De Raptura was a neophyte, an unknown. A pony who appeared, delight of all delights, to be very simple and innocent.

She seemed surprised as the mood in the chamber lifted. Perhaps she thought they'd warmed to her. In a sense she would have been right, as the fires of greed glowed in the hearts of those nobles who saw the most to gain from what was otherwise an entirely regrettable series of events. A heaven of new opportunities beckoned. As one, the nobility rose to welcome their new ruler, hailing her health and wisdom, declaring their fealty even before the coronation. Long live the Princess, they cried. Long may she reign.

"I think that went quite well, don't you?"

Twilight Sparkle's tired smile faded as she saw the expressions of Sure Stride and the First Minister, both staring at her as if she'd sprouted a second horn. Sure Stride shook his head and stepped down from the throne to speak to a nearby guard. The First Minister, for his part, stood by with an discomforted frown.

"Archmage Sparkle, have you ever known the nobility to be of one voice on anything?"

"Well, n-no, I don't think I have, but maybe they can see a new era of peace and prosperity—why are you laughing?"

The First Minister crouched forward, almost losing his balance as his body was racked by his deep, booming laughter. Sure Stride and the guard he spoke to were staring at him. The Commander's eyes briefly locked onto Twilight's. He raised an eyebrow; she just stared back at him, unable to reply.

"First Minister?"

"Oh, Lady Twilight, please, for that taste of joy p-please call me Alabast. I am—oh!" He coughed and tried to make his face neutral. It almost worked. "I am so glad to see that your return to the Court has yet to take your innocence, my dear."

"But surely they—"

"Dear Lady, if the nobility ever present a united front, they're only after one thing."

The figure on the throne finally moved to look around Alabast's broad head. Princess De Raptura locked her eye on Twilight.

"The noble houses perceive an advantage, Lady Twilight," Minister Alabast continued, oblivious to the movement behind him. "The first advantage they have seen for centuries, perhaps, and they mean to exploit it."

"I don't understand," Twilight replied, returning her Princess's gaze. She was rewarded with a faint, strangely knowing smile.

"What mister Star means is that they think I'm an innocent moron." Princess De Raptura shifted in her seat and looked about the now empty chamber. "I know I'm not that smart but I'm not that dumb either. I was just nervous."

"We all have our off days, your Highness," Alabast said with what he presumably thought was a soothing voice. The Princess smiled and nodded, accepting the assumed wisdom of his words with equinamity and grace. She shifted on her seat again and cleared her throat.

"Am I going to have to spend the whole day here? It's not exactly warm."

"Only if you wish to, Highness," Alabast replied smoothly. "Whilst Celestia, gods and heavens bless her, chose to sit every day, in truth the Court sits at your convenience once enough petitions have been gathered, after which you are free to pursue whatever tasks you wish as long as they don't interfere with your other duties. Normally either the Duke of Canterlot or the Lord Steward would advise you on such matters, but the latter is somewhat busy at the moment and the former—"

"Disappeared with everyone else," the Princess finished. "And so you're stuck with me, and me with you. I'm very sorry if I upset you, mister Star."

"I... would prefer Alabast, if it please your Highness."

"And I'd prefer a glass of milk and a muffin, Alabast, but I'm—" she paused, a slight frown creasing her face. "Twilight?"

"Yes, Princess?"

"Can I get muffins here?"

Twilight paused, unsure of whether she was being asked to retrieve said muffin or merely explain how to get one. She rolled her ears back and forth, trying to ease a slight headache. "I don't see why not. You are the Princess, after all."

"Good!"

The great doors of the throne room clanked and groaned as they were pushed aside to admit a hoofcolt dressed in the new grey livery of De Raptura's personal servants. He bowed deeply before the throne before continuing his approach, then bowed again at the foot of the dais.

"Your Highness."

"Hello."

"Ah..." The hoofcolt glanced briefly at Twilight and then seemed to come to his senses and stood to address his princess. "The Lady Amethyst requests an audience, ma'am."

The Princess seemed quite fascinated by the hoofcolt's drawling manner of speech and smiled, fiercely, at the mention of her daughter's name. "Send her in!"

With another bow the hoofcolt retreated to the door, where he conferred with some hidden colleague outside. He stood to one side and raised his voice.

"The Lady Amethyst and the Lady Dinky!"

"D-Dinky?"

Twilight's eyes flew wide and turned to the Princess. The alicorn flung her wings aloft but remained frozen in place, panting for breath, her face twisted to a terrified rictus.

"Stall them." Twilight shoved the First Minister forward away from the throne. He looked back and forth between the two in confusion, but trotted down the dais to the throne room floor nevertheless, before moving toward the doors.

The Princess turned her panicked eye toward Twilight. "What if..."

"I don't know, Princess, but... but I think I can help. Luna once taught me a spell that can calm the mind. If you would permit me?" A faint glow sprang from Twilight's horn and she moved toward the Princess, waiting for a response. After a moment's thought De Raptura lowered her head, allowing Twilight to touch their horns together.

The throne room was briefly illuminated as magic flashed between their horns. De Raptura jumped, shocked at the power surging through her, so completely unaccustomed was she the sensation of magic moving with such force in her body. She took a breath and then sighed as her eyes lost their focus for a few moments.

"Thank you, Twilight." The Princess lowered her head and took another, calmer breath. Her face shone with an inner calm completely at odds with her actions a moment earlier. "Could this..."

"She's too young," Twilight replied as the hoofsteps of two fillies echoed through the throne room. "I'm sorry."

The Princess nodded sadly and looked away for a moment to compose herself. Twilight backed away and returned to her seat on the dais.

"Sparkler, wait up, I wanna see the Princess!"

"Dinky I said wait outside the door."

"Aww, I wanna see!"

Sparkler cantered through, accompanied by a rather bemused First Minister who seemed to be doing his best to engage the young mare in conversation and yet was failing miserably. Halfway to the throne he gave up and returned to the door, possibly hoping for some more engaging conversation.

"Sparkler, it's good to see you," the Princess said, smiling warmly. Sparkler slowed, surprised at the way her mother greeted her. She glanced at Twilight, suspicious for a moment, but curious at the same time. "How are you settling in?"

"Fine, mom. I wanted to—we need to talk about this duchess thing." She mounted the steps to the throne. A hoofcolt appeared as if from nowhere and deposited a small cushion for Sparkler to sit on.

"Of course, we can talk about it whenever you like. First though, how is Dinky?"

Sparkler shuffled in her cushion until she was comfortable. She looked around the throne room and, for just a moment, seemed to lose herself in the sheer awe of the place.

"She's—she's okay, mom. A little scared still, but I guess she's getting used to her room now. The maids keep leaving her sweets on her pillow. Honestly I think she might be getting spoiled."

De Raptura chuckled and gave her daughter another warm smile. "She's going through a lot, she deserves a little spoiling."

"Mom? Are you feeling okay? You seem a bit out of it."

The Princess's calm demeanour strained for a moment. She blinked and a brief look of panic swept across her features, but then it was gone again, replaced by the calm serenity of a moment earlier. De Raptura looked down at her daughter with loving eyes and smiled. "I'm fine, sweetie. Just a little tired, that's all."

"Sparkler! I gotta go potty!"

The Princess leaned forward in her seat, barely even paying attention to the voice at the far end of the hall. The action drew another confused look from Sparkler. "Is she still having bad dreams?"

Sparkler mumbled a non-committal reply. There was something going on, she suddenly decided, turning to stare at Twilight. The Archmage pointedly refused to look at her. Definitely something going on.

"I guess—I guess you had Court today?"

"Yes." The Princess's eyes lost their focus. She tapped her chin and frowned. "It was very odd."

Before either could say more there was a surprised yell from the far end of the throne room. Tiny hooves tramped on the stone floor as a little filly rocketed out of the reception. She saw Sparkler first, seated next to the Princess's throne, and ran toward her with a huge grin. Dinky wasn't surprised that her sister had made friends with the Princess, she'd always been smart and funny, and Dinky knew they could all be friends. Then her eyes settled on the alicorn seated on the throne.

Her legs locked stiff and she stumbled, squealing in terror, rolling head over tail twice before she landed on her rump. She looked up, tears welling in her eyes as the shock of what happened filtered through her mind. Dinky's wail turned to another terrified shriek as the alicorn stood up from her throne, wings flaring and mane floating around her head like an enveloping cloud of light.

"Twilight it's the scary mare! Sparkler! MOM!" Dinky scrabbled to her hooves and bolted for the nearest hiding place, behind a large wall hanging that very nearly reached the floor. She peeked out a moment later, squeaked and ducked back in again.

The Princess leaned toward her elder daughter. "Sparkler, take Dinky back to her room. I'll come and speak to you later."

With her head held high, the Princess stepped from her throne and descended the dais. She left the throne room without another word.

Sparkler and Twilight both made their way over to the still-shivering wall hanging and looked down at it for a little while.

"Twilight—"

"I didn't do anything! I just gave her a little enchantment to cope with the stress she was under," Twilight replied, her voice barely above a harsh whisper.

"You can't blame me for that."

The hanging shifted slightly as Dinky moved around behind it, her little legs trapping back and forth in the narrow gap between the hanging and the floor. She snuffled at a tear in the fabric and tentatively poked her muzzle through the gap.

"Why is the scary mare here," she whispered. Her voice quavered on the edge of tears.

"Dinky, that was mom—"

"NO!"

"Dink..."

"She's too bright! She's not mommy, she's too bright! I want mommy," the little filly cried. Sparkler stomped her hoof and was about to yell something until Twilight held up her hoof.

"Dinky, recite the first principles of magic."

The curtain twitched again. Sparkler frowned and turned to look at Twilight, ready to berate her for being so insensitive, but the mage held up her hoof once more for silence. A moment later Dinky tapped her forehoof on the floor.

"Um..." Sparkler's eyes went wide at the sound of Dinky's tentative reply. "The first principles of magic are... to do no harm, to—to seek knowledge and not power, and to maintain the—the harmony of... um... the harmony of nature?"

"Very good, Dinky! Can you remember the reason for each?"

"I-I think that... to use magic for harm destroys harmony, to get power without knowledge causes harm, and... and..." There was a long pause. Dinky shuffled her hooves and sat down, her little tail fanning out at the base of the hanging like a decorative tassel. She sniffed again. "Can't remember."

"That's okay, Dinky. To attack the harmony of nature destroys knowledge. Think you can remember that next time?" The little unicorn gave a snuffled affirmation. Twilight smiled. "Now Dinky, because you're so smart, I'd like you to come out and show your sister how an make a light. Can you do that?"

"I guess..."

Sparkler's eyes were wide as saucers as Twilight gently coaxed her sister out from behind the hanging. The filly looked around nervously as she poked her head out, then moved a little more confidently once she realised the 'scary mare' wasn't around any more. Twilight and the older sister both stepped back as Dinky conjured a little ball of light over her horn, casting a bright but fitful greyish light around her.

"I don't get it," Sparkler said as she watched her sister exploring around the nearby hangings with her new light. Twilight smiled and nodded. "It takes me ages to calm her down."

"She just needed a distraction. It was the first thing I could think of." Twilight scuffed a hoof on the floor and turned to watch Dinky as she ran back to Sparkler's side. She was still nervy, but much calmer now her apparent nemesis was gone. "Celestia used to do the same for me the first few weeks after I came to live here, when I was missing my mom and had a nightmare or something. I remembered one time, I'd woken up in the middle of the night after a really bad dream and she just walked in and started lecturing me on the history of the Unicorn Kingdoms. The maids thought she'd lost it."

Twilight smiled at the memory, but it appeared Sparkler didn't share the happy moment. She was scowling.

"Sparkler, why did you bring her here?"

"She followed me," Sparkler wrapped a protective foreleg around Dinky and pulled her into a quick hug. "I just wanted to talk to m—talk about this whole duchess thing. Guess that wasn't gonna happen."

Both ponies stared at the floor, neither wanting to carry on talking in case they said something wrong. The space between them seemed to have shrunk just a little though, especially when Dinky wriggled out of her sister's grasp and sat down in it. She put a hoof on each of their faces and grinned.

"You gonna be friends now?"

Sparkler refused to meet either pony's gaze. She put her foreleg around Dinky's back once again. "I'd better get you back to our room."

"And I should, uh... do magic things, I guess. See you later, Dinky," Twilight said. She nodded to Sparkler. "If you want to talk you know where I am."

Though still refusing to meet Twilight's eyes, Sparkler returned the nod. She led her sister away from the room, leaving Twilight alone with her thoughts. In the silence that followed the Archmage found her mind slipping back just a few days to the last time she'd stood before her Princess, in this very room. Probably in this very spot. They'd been talking about a new spell that she wanted to try, some sort of... she wasn't even sure what it was now, but it had excited her, and intrigued Celestia, which had felt like her biggest achievement that day. Now the research lay on her desk and might never be completed.

The hanging billowed slightly in cool current of air. Twilight looked down at the empty spot Dinky had occupied and smiled. If she was honest with herself, she'd had her eye on Dinky for a while. Her talent was showing up unusually strong for one so young, though nowhere near as strong as Twilight's own. Perhaps, in a year, Twilight might have to find time to take on a full-time student. She was fairly certain who that would be.

Was this how Celestia had once felt about her? Had she watched from afar as her future protégé struggled and strained at her basic magic, memorising the Prima Principia and the Elementary Codex, or had it only been the exercise of raw power that attracted the former Princess? She'd never thought to ask.

Twilight turned to contemplate the empty throne for a few minutes, before striding from the great throne room and into the dim corridors beyond.

Always Darkest

Always Darkest

Derpy. She was coming around to that name again, though it had once been an insult. Now it felt like the only part of her left from the time before; the only part of herself that she even recognised when everything else felt more and more alien and unreal, like the half-remembered dreams of another pony an entire lifetime away. It was no wonder her own daughter couldn't see who she was.

Her study was absolutely silent. The expensive clock Celestia had maintained there had stopped working the previous day, and she'd yet to find a way to fix it. Derpy didn't mind all that much, though. She liked the silence. It gave her space to think without—

Dinky. She'd thought about Dinky without even a hint of panic or grief. It had taken this long to even realise. Derpy bit her lip and carefully trawled over the last few hours, and her last meeting with her daughters. No anxiety, no fear of loss ran through her mind, just a peaceful acceptance of what had to be.

Sparkler had thought she was acting odd.

It was wrong. Derpy wanted to be frustrated and angry about this strange new turn of events, but the feelings just weren't there, or were almost completely flat. It was like being wrapped in a woolly blanket.

Without conscious thought she moved to the door, the instruction to summon Twilight Sparkle hovering on her tongue, but something stopped her. Doubt assailed her mind. Derpy withdrew her hoof from the door handle and stared uncertainly at it, her mind slowly going over the possibilities. She knew she should be upset at this lack of worry for her foal, but it seemed so distant and unnecessary now. It wouldn't serve to drag Twilight away from her other business.

Derpy idly wondered how long this state would last. With little to occupy it, her mind moved to the place she'd found, the realm where she'd first met the sun. It seemed calmer now, more inviting and friendly, for all it was alien to everything she had understood about the world.

The sun still hid from her. Everything around her was bright and open, but no matter where she looked the sun didn't appear. Now she could see far into what had been the darkest parts of that strange realm, the deep valleys and troughs of an impossible landscape. Lives flitted around those places, tight knots of being and essence that shone like a thousand stars.

It felt as if she was starting to understand how it all worked. The lives around her weren't tied to any particular place. She couldn't look over there and see Ponyville, or over here and see Manehattan – though, truth be told she'd never been to Manehattan. For all she knew, it might look exactly like this in real life.

Instead she saw how close they were to her. All her friends were nearby, hanging around the little peak she stood on, or floated over, or whatever she did. Beyond that she saw first her delivery route, then everyone she'd met, and after that, a great glittering mass of distant others. From one to the other she was connected to what looked like every single pony in the world. She could dimly perceive the web of interaction between them, a constant flow of something familiar. It felt like the love she had for Dinky and Sparkler.

The thought of her daughters drew Derpy toward them, just close enough to see they were there. Now she had begun to understand, she could see the bond between them and the one they shared with her; a tightly-knit loop of shimmering closeness. It was almost perfect. Almost. As long as she stayed back, her youngest would keep her love. If she came too close...

The pain in her heart returned then, bitter and sharp. Derpy collapsed back into herself and opened her eyes onto the lonely, silent chamber that once again held her prisoner. She let out a quiet sob but manage to hold back her tears, aware now that whatever Twilight had done to her was starting to wear off. Derpy looked around the room, not really seeing anything until her eyes came to rest on the great doors leading to the balcony. It was the one part of her new residence she hadn't yet visited.

She shouldered through the doors and stepped out into the cold darkness. Her coat bristled against the chilly night and Derpy instinctively ruffled her feathers for more warmth, despite knowing it wouldn't help too much. The tang of an unseasonable frost hung in the air, carried on a steady breeze from the west that burbled and eddied around the broad tower that was her home.

The balcony stretched around her tower, grand doors leading to each of the three rooms that backed onto it. Derpy marched to the centre and faced the missing dawn with her eyes closed, willing the sun to appear, but nothing happened. She raised her wings as she'd seen Celestia do. When she opened her eyes, the sky remained resolutely dark.

How long she remained, she wasn't sure, but her wings were beginning to stiffen from the cold when the door from her study thudded open and a pony's hoofbeats echoed across the broad, flat stones of the balcony. Derpy didn't need to turn to recognise her eldest daughter. The young mare paused a short distance from Derpys side.

"Dinky again?"

"She had another nightmare," Sparkler said quietly. Derpy lowered her wings, groaning at the stiffness of her limbs. She fluffed her feathers against the cold once more.

"Did she see a scary mare again?"

"No... no, this time she said the sun was chasing her."

Derpy nodded, as if the words somehow made sense. The nightmares of foals and fillies were as incomprehensible as her last tax return. Derpy filed away a brief idea to have those infernal things simplified for ponies like her and turned to face her daughter.

"Sparkler, I'm sorry about earlier. Twilight gave me something to keep me calm around Dinky and I guess it was a bit stronger than it was meant to be." Derpy saw the reply forming on Sparkler's lips and quickly scotched it with a gentle hoof to her muzzle. "She was only trying to help. Remember what you promised."

Sparkler rolled her eyes, but gave her mother a nod nevertheless.

The door creaked again as both commander Sure Stride and Twilight herself stepped out onto the balcony. The commander walked over to the low balustrade and glared over it at some unseen threat, whilst Twilight carefully approached the Princess and her daughter, flinching slightly at the angry glare Sparkler shot her way. Derpy stepped around Sparkler, shielding both mares from each other.

"Princess." Twilight gave a perfunctory bow as she drew near. "We heard you were... well, we heard you were up here, but nopony knew what you were doing."

"Thinking," Derpy replied. She glanced at the distant horizon, barely visible beneath an overcast sky. "Just thinking. It's very cold."

"The sun hasn't shone for several days."

Twilight's sarcasm was lost on Derpy. She'd become very adept at ignoring anything like that years ago. The Archmage shivered in a sudden gust of wind and tried to draw her cloak tighter against the cold. The sight of her chilly friend, and the now obvious sound of Sparkler's chattering teeth, finally pulled Derpy out of her reverie.

"Back inside, everypony." She threw a quick glance at Sure Stride and then spread her wings to usher the shivering pair toward the door. Twilight gratefully accepted the herding and stumbled back into the study, making no secret of her need to be close to the warmth of the fire burning within. Soon all four ponies were gathered around the fireplace, soaking in the heat. Even the normally dour guard commander smiled a little as he relaxed into the warmth.

The moment soon passed, however. Sure Stride continued across to the main door, where he paused for a short bow. "With your permission, highness, I must return to my duties."

With another, even shorter bow the Guard Commander left the room, the door closing behind him with a quiet click. Derpy stepped back from the position she'd taken between Sparkler and Twilight, and looked at each of them in turn.

"You two are driving me crazy," she said, before turning away to seat herself on a convenient pile of cushions. She eyeballed both mares again. "I don't know what it is between the pair of you, but it has to stop. And I don't want to hear excuses either," she added before either could think to speak.

Sparkler and Twilight stared at one another, the latter with confusion, the former with anger dulled by cold and apathy, yet still strong enough to make Derpy wince.

"It hurts to see you like this," she said, her voice barely loud enough to be heard above the crackling fire. Immediately Sparkler turned her glare towards her mother, not even bothering to temper it this time.

"How do you think it makes me feel? Five years, six maybe, that's all I've had with you, mom, and now you're being taken away again." She trotted over to Derpy's side, deliberately refused to see the reaction her words caused in Twilight. With just a little hesitation, Sparkler closed her eyes and nuzzled up against her mother's neck and shoulder. "I don't want to lose you."

"Sparkler, you aren't losing me. I'm gonna be here forever, you know that. Remember what I said when I adopted you?"

Sparkler took a shuddering breath that she let out slowly before speaking. "That I'd never be alone."

"I had a job then too, didn't I? You didn't think you were losing me when I went out to deliver the mail."

"Well, no, but this is different—"

"It's just a job, Sparkler. It might seem a bit different but it's just work that I have to do." Derpy shuffled and herded Sparkler until she was facing Twilight. The younger mare lowered her eyes, refusing to look at her chosen opponent. Twilight's own face still bore the same confused frown she'd worn for the last few minutes. It was all Derpy could do not to sigh. "Well. You're both big girls, you can work it out later."

The only response she received was the loud pop of a log crackling in the fire. Twilight had retreated into her own thoughts, her eyes staring nowhere in particular; Sparkler still had hers closed entirely. This time Derpy couldn't prevent the sigh that rose within her, but she managed to temper it. She wrapped her wing around her daughter and drew her close once again.

"Twilight, would you leave us alone for a while?"

"Of course, highness," Twilight replied, bowing slightly. It was little more than a nod of her head. "I have to see if I can round up the privy council anyway. Bunch of ungracious old blowhards—"

"I haven't met them," Derpy said. "I wouldn't want to judge."

"I've fought dragons and changelings and chaos monsters, it's not as if I'm unqualified for the job, they're just—you'd think they would respect the office even if they don't respect its occupant." Twilight shook her head and smiled a tight, bitter smile. "Forgive me, Princess. Politics doesn't suit me as much as I thought it would."

"It's okay, Twilight, just do your best. That's all anypony would ask."

The Princess watched Twilight move to the door, feeling oddly pleased that her friend hadn't felt the need to bow this time.

"Twilight?"

The door paused, half open, gripped in Twilight's magic. She turned slightly. "Yes?"

"Could you talk to Dinky? Find out why she's so scared of me now. She's always looked up to you."

Twilight nodded, just the hint of a smile twitching at her lips. "Your command, Princess. But what about the council?"

Derpy settled on her cushions, seeking a little more comfort. "I guess they're my privy council now, right?" She waited for Twilight's cautious nod and smiled when it came. "I'm the Princess now, 'm sorta their boss, they have to listen to me no matter what. Don't worry about it, Twilight. Go and talk to Dinky."

Sure Stride fell into step with Twilight as she marched from the royal apartment. The Archmage didn't bother questioning his actions, or why his 'duties' involved lurking around corners and waiting for her to turn up – frankly she was glad for the company along the endless corridors of Canterlot Castle.

"Another errand?"

Twilight's ears perked forward and she smiled. "Personal tutoring. And an escape from dealing with the council for another day."

"You two will have to get control over those old coots sooner or later," the Commander replied. He tugged idly at his uniform, his pace tightening into a more formal march as they found themselves crossing a more public area.

"The councillors know their duty."

Sure Stride laughed bitterly and shook his head. "Of course they don't, Archmage, ma'am. They're a sorry collection of old duffers and useless fools who only gained their position through graft and bribery and only keep it by granting favours to the nobility. I doubt Celestia ever listened to them."

"I'm on that council as well, you know."

"You were appointed by Celestia herself, against their objections. The rest..."

Neither spoke for the rest of their short walk to the guest rooms. Again and again, Twilight found she had to face these odd revelations about the reality of Canterlot, a reality that Celestia – or perhaps her own mother, somehow – had contrived to hide from her for most of her life. She'd known there was some corruption under the surface, but the sheer depth of it astounded her. And now they were faced with a Princess who knew even less of it than Twilight.

Or did she? Wildcard, she thought, remembering so many card games with the girls in Ponyville. Games she often lost to, of all ponies, Pinkie Pie. The memory set Twilight on a new and much more welcome train of thought, of the day when she could go back home for a little while, forget her life of politics and just be plain old Twilight Sparkle once again. Odd how she thought of Ponyville as home now, despite how short a time she'd lived there... she made a mental note to invite herself to some future event there and then filed the thought away for later.

The door to Sparkler and Dinky's apartment was closed when they arrived, but not locked. A guard stood to attention outside, staring away into nothing, though he saluted immediately when they were within a couple of bodylengths of his post. Sure Stride returned the salute with a perfunctory nod and sidled across to a comfortable seat on the far side of the hall.

"I'll wait here, no point in scaring the little one even more. Let me know if you need anything."

Twilight nodded and pushed the door open, pausing half way to tap it with her hoof. "Dinky?"

"Twilight!" The little foal scampered from the couch and bounced eagerly around the door. "You're back! Did you see Sparkler? Is mommy feeling better?"

The filly continued bouncing around Twilight as she made her way into the room, shedding her cloak and most of her worries along with it. Dinky's nearly irrepressible enthusiasm and joy seemed almost infectious. "She's fine, Dinky. Sparkler's fine, but I think she's still mad at me."

"Aw, but you're fun! Are we gonna learn more magic now?"

"I..." Twilight shook her head and sighed. "Yeah, though I'd prefer if I could teach you and your mother at the same time."

"But mommy can't do magic, she's a pegasasasus!"

"Pegasus," Twilight replied automatically. She sat down on the couch and waited for Dinky to find herself a comfortable spot. It took a while. The little filly insisted on bouncing up and down the entire couch, arranging and re-arranging the cushions until she had her perfect setting. Twilight let her eyes idle while she thought about how best to explain Derpy's new status to her daughter. Was there any way? She hadn't taken well to the idea up to now.

"All done now!"

"Uh." Twilight shook her head. Dinky was staring at her with wide, curious eyes. The elder unicorn rolled her neck and put on her best smile. "Good job with your, er, cushions."

"Thanks!"

Twilight tapped her forehooves together and against her couch, thumping out a short tune she'd heard somewhere once. Dinky was soon humming along with the beat. She grinned at Twilight.

"So did mommy say you could teach me magic? Because I'm gonna learn how to be a mage and then I'll be great and powerful just like you!" Dinky reared up on her hind legs and giggled as a spark of energy crackled from her horn. The shock of the release made her blink and she quickly settled down on the couch again. "And then everypony will be nice to mommy and Sparkler and she won't have to work any more!"

"Yeah, about that... Dinky I promised that I'd start teaching you again, but there's—"

The little unicorn erupted in a delighted squeal, bouncing right off the couch and wrapping her forelegs around Twilight's neck. The sudden attack of affection threw Twilight's mind completely off track, not to mention her body. She fell against the back of her couch, landing awkwardly on her side with Dinky on top of her. The filly hugged tighter and giggled.

"We're gonna have so much fun!"

"Yeah. Fun," Twilight replied with a nervous laugh of her own. She waited for Dinky's grip to relax and carefully pulled herself into a more comfortable position. "You really missed me that much?"

"Uh-huh!"

"But I-I was just a teacher!"

"And a friend! Mommy likes you too. Even Sparkler does, she's just upset because mom has to work so hard all the time." Dinky's voice grew quiet. Without warning, she rolled off Twilight and snuggled up between her forelegs in a way that reminded Twilight of her own behaviour with Princess Celestia. With great care the elder unicorn nuzzled Dinky's ear.

"It's all right, Dinky," she cooed, trying to hide the sudden embarrassed flush on her cheeks. Fortunately nobody was around to see her trying to act maternal. "I know you miss your mom, she's still... um... busy."

"Miss Twilight, when is she coming back?"

"I don't—" Twilight closed her eyes and took a breath. "Dinky. Your mommy is doing very special work now. You see, Princess Celestia h-had to go away for a very long time, and she... she decided that your mom was the best pony to look after things while she was gone."

She opened her eyes to find Dinky staring at her, jaw hanging slack, almost not breathing. The little unicorn blinked very slowly, never taking her eyes from Twilight's as she spoke.

"Mommy's a princess?"

"Yeah. She is."

"But... the scary mare..."

"Dinky, that was your—"

"No! She was too bright!" Dinky rather rudely burrowed at the couch with her forehooves and buried her face in Twilight's chest, whimpering quietly. "Mommy isn't bright," she squeaked, her voice muffled and squashed. "She's not!"

"Too bright?"

"Like the sun, the one on my dream! She works for the Scary Mare and keeps chasing me and I think she wants to take mommy away and—and—" Dinky's words were lost to gasping as she tried to hold back a sob.

"Oh that was just a dream, Dinky, it's not real! There's no such thing as the scary mare."

"But—"

"Hush..." Twilight pulled the filly closer to her chest, hopefully mimicking some part of Derpy's mothering in some way. It seemed to work, Dinky relaxed almost straight away, letting out an adorable little yawn. Twilight hummed snippets of a tune she could barely remember as she rocked the little unicorn and tried to think of a way to explain things that wouldn't result in another outburst. Nothing came to mind.

"Miss Twilight?"

"Hmm?"

"Does mommy miss me?"

"More than you can know, Dinky," Twilight replied. She ran her mind over the last few minutes again, looking for some clue to Dinky's terror, but nothing seemed to stand out. Except... "Why is she bright?"

"Like the sun in my dream," Dinky mumbled. Her head bounced as her fatigue fought against her desire to stay awake. Twilight slowed her rocking and let the filly's chin rest on her foreleg, her free hoof gently stroking Dinky's mane while the filly cooed and yawned into sleep. Even Twilight could see she needed more than Sparkler around to look after her. The Archmage considered asking Cadence to help, only for a cold clenching pain in the pit of her stomach to remind why that wasn't an option.

Rather than let herself slip into another long introspection, Twilight gently wrapped her aura around Dinky and levitated her up and away to the other couch, before covering her with a small blanket that had been left warming by the fire. She stepped back to admire her attempt at mothering.

"So much for teaching magic," she mused. Twilight walked to the door and cracked it open enough to poke her head out into the hall, looking back and forth for Sure Stride. The commander was sprawled out on his couch, discussing some manner of military arcana with the guard. They both snapped to attention when they saw her.

"It's okay, you don't have to—huh." Twilight shook her head. "Never mind. Commander, I'm going to be here a while."

"Lady Dinky?"

"Fast asleep. One minute she was bouncing around, next she was out, heh, cold."

"She's under a lot of stress." Sure Stride stretched his back, groaning quietly. Evidently Dinky wasn't the only one under tension right now. "Some foals deal with stress by sleeping through it. Be happy she's one of them," he added with a sour grin.

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience."

"Why do you think I haven't left the castle in three days?" He grinned again and brushed away Twilight's concerned look with a casual wave of his hoof. "My little herd of hellions know I've been de-facto promoted to Guard Captain, they're probably glad I'm not rattling around at home and yelling at everypony. It's better this way.

"Now," he continued, drawing himself upright. "If you don't need me here, I have to meet with the Commanders of the Night and Day watches to see if there's some way of dealing with those damn idiot street preachers."

"Oh. Oh of course, yes, go right ahead." She waited as Sure Stride marched away, then closed the door and turned back to her new student. In truth, Twilight wasn't sure what to do now. She'd expected to be teaching the youngster, instead she was playing a combination of foalsitter and dream interpreter. Of all the professions she'd thought she might enjoy over the years, those had been fairly low on her list. The fact that she actually had such a list, and that those particular jobs were indeed on it, might possibly have been a cause for concern in any other pony.

Twilight looked down at Dinky as she snoozed on the couch. She had already managed to pull the blanket into a twisted rope that she hugged to her chest as if it were the only thing she had left in the world. Twilight left it alone, not wanting to disturb her student's sleep. She levitated a quill and parchment from a nearby writing desk and settled onto the other couch. After a few moments watching the little Lady's sleep, she began to write.

Behold the Dawn

Behold the Dawn

Fires burned in every hearth across Canterlot, choking the air with a thick pall of smoke that glowed a sickly yellow in the reflected light of thousands of torches, as the city's inhabitant tried to stave off the chill of night. The warm wind that had prevented a terminal descent into winter had finally failed, diverted by an enormous cyclone that had swirled over the distant horizon before the Pegasus weather teams could stop it.

Slivers of ice ran in the city's many rivers, a harbinger of the coming cold. Even within the depths of the castle of Canterlot the scent of snow was strong in the air, despite the oily stink of burning candles and torches fixed to every available surface. Those ponies crowding the great halls and passages of the castle were bundled up against the bone-chilling cold, even in spite of the great fires roaring in every available room. The entire palace, though festooned with light, shivered in the freezing night.

Maybe, Twilight thought, it would serve as a reminder of the trials their ancestors had endured before the founding of Equestria. Perhaps even now the Windigoes were gathering outside the castle to freeze the whole world. She could see her breath as she chuckled at the thought.

The corridor between her temporary guest quarters and the royal apartments had become very familiar over the last couple of days, and it was that same corridor she walked again this morning, for another probably futile session with the Princess. There were few windows here which meant that the majority of the space was constantly lit anyway, and the sheer number of candles seemed to keep out the worst of the frosty air. Nevertheless she was still wrapped up in a thick scarf, with a woollen tunic beneath her robes. It itched dreadfully, though she had little choice but to tolerate it.

"What a way to see out the end of the world," she muttered as she drew level with the guards. One of them, a pegasus with a face that spoke of too many brawls and not enough quiet nights, laughed and bounced his head. The other just looked snooty, probably unable to appreciate the humour. They were always the same pair on the morning shift, two of the Solar Guard's most loyal and reliable stallions. Often they were accompanied by Commander Sure Stride, who lounged away in a corner of the broad open space before Cel—De Raptura's apartments, presumably taking advantage of the warmth.

The guards saluted. Sure Stride fell in step beside Twilight as she made her way past. His response to her quizzical glance was the merest hint of a shrug and nothing else. She put it aside as a problem to deal with later and walked purposefully through to the largest of the apartment's rooms.

Ostensibly it was a bedroom, but it had all the signs of a daily use far beyond that. The desk beneath the window was still littered with the half-finished notes and writings of the departed Celestia, while a small collection of cushions in the far corner spoke of intimate gatherings of Celestia's closest friends, to which Twilight had occasionally had the honour of attendance.

There was no need to knock. The door was wide open in expectation of her arrival and the Princess was stood by the window, staring at inky clouds that filled the sky, and occasionally snuffling. Twilight left Sure Stride at the door and made her way to the Princess's side.

"Good morning, Princess."

"Twilight, I've asked you not to call me that..." The alicorn turned from her vigil and, with her eyes still closed, walked across to the bed. She flopped forward onto the unmade sheets and just lay there, with her wings hanging limp at her sides. "I don't want to do this any more. I wanna go home."

"Princess—"

"My name is Ditzy," the Princess replied. She opened her mismatched eyes and swivelled them toward Twilight. "Or Derpy, or De Raptura. Anything other than Princess."

Twilight didn't speak, not wanting to antagonise her Princess. She'd tried to explain her reasoning on the subject once before, tried to describe how wrong it felt to refer to the ruler of all Equestria in such a familiar way, but it hadn't gone across particularly well. The fact that Twilight herself couldn't quite understand it probably didn't help matters.

"I'll try," she said, eventually. Ditzy, or however she identified herself, snuggled into her sheets and pulled herself into a more comfortable position. She turned to look at Twilight.

"Even so, I still don't want to do this any more."

"If you know a way to swap, I'm all ears."

The Princess shook her head and looked away across the room. Twilight took the opportunity to slip out of her robe. She wanted to be as comfortable as possible for this session, and the fire was a little warmer than she'd expected.

"Well then," she said, in her best teaching voice. "Let's recap. You have the same apparent magical reserves as the former Princesses, you have the apparent ability to manipulate the celestial sphere as already proven, but only on some subconscious level. You have no conscious control over your magic and have yet to demonstrate any sort of ability, despite the power within you. With me so far?"

The Princess nodded. Twilight took a step back.

"What we have in you is a neophyte. What we need," she said with a flourish toward the windows. "Is the sun."

She turned and stared at the sky, but the window remained resolutely, disappointingly dark. "Huh. I guess we can rule out the use of dramatic reveals as a means of stimulating magical ability. Maybe I should ask Rainbow Dash to help..."

"Twilight, I can't do it. We've tried, remember? Even if I could do this magic you want from me, how can I move something when I don't know where it is?"

"The magic the ancient Unicorns used to move the sun actually acted on the planet," Twilight said, tapping her chin as she thought. "Or more accurately it acted a set of magnetogravitic resonance nodes situated in space around the planet, that acted to shift our local space-time matrix and adjust the apparent position of the sun and the actual position of the moon. They didn't call it that, but that's essentially what it was."

The Princess stared at her, as if that would somehow grant comprehension from the mass of jargon. "Just like that?"

"It used a simple form of telekinesis tuned to manipulate an area of space in a very efficient way. It only needed a group of unicorns because of the power requirements, but an alicorn by herself should be able to more than match that need."

Twilight started to pace around the bed, lost in thought as she tried to calculate the steps necessary to move the sun around the sky. She'd quickly considered and rejected an attempt to attune herself to the Princess's aura in order to wield her power as too liable to cause a resonance cascade and suck the power right out of both of them, which had left only two options: either Twilight and a group of unicorns could try and move the sun, or the Princess could learn the spells. She'd opted for the latter purely to avoid having to address the political problems of the former. Not that it had stopped others from trying...

"I know of at least two attempts to recreate the cabals necessary to raise the sun and they've both failed. They used the spells exactly as described and still failed. It should just work, which implies that the Princesses stopped using it because it no longer does." Twilight stopped pacing and turned to stare at the window once again. "But if the Princesses didn't use the old magic, why didn't they leave a record of the spells they created to replace it?"

"Military secrets," Sure Stride piped up from his post by the door. Twilight and the Princess both looked at him in surprise at the interruption. "They never expected to die, and they wanted to be sure no foreign power would wrest control of the sun from them. It's a pretty good way to prevent a coup as well."

Twilight resumed pacing as she pondered the new idea. It was intriguing, but she'd not be able to think of her Celestia as such a conniving manipulator. Then again, she wouldn't exactly telegraph the fact if it were true.

"I don't know," she replied after another circuit of the room. "I've been with the Princess a few times when she raised the sun. I couldn't see how she did it and I'm extremely skilled with magic."

"Humble too," Sure Stride shot back. He grinned at Twilight's shocked glare and winked. "If not a secret spell, then what? Some sort of artefact?"

"No artefact could last for thousands of years without being seen, and its maintenance requirements would grow exponentially after a few centuries."

"Perhaps they just pretended." Twilight's only response was to point out of the window. Sure Stride shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Just thinking outside the box, ma'am. The only ponies who could tell us how to do it are the Princesses themselves, and they're hardly in any position to help us."

"Sure Stride, I really don't appreciate—"

"I think..." The Princess coughed and looked down at the sheets. "I think I might know how."

Sure Stride straightened up and took a step forward. At the same time Twilight turned to face her ruler, one eyebrow raised. Her stomach and jaw both tightened. "What?"

"I think I might know how to raise the sun."

"You what?"

The Princess stepped from her bed with a heavy hoof, refusing to answer straight away. She walked to the windows and looked up at the sky again. "The day I made everything dark, I went somewhere, inside my head. It... the sun was right there. I grabbed hold of it, and next thing I know it's dark outside and I'm in bed with a headache the size of Manehattan."

"So go back!"

"I did." She bowed her head. Her horn scraped against the window, leaving a narrow scratch in the glass, but she didn't seem to notice, or care. "It wasn't there any more."

Twilight's jaw worked as she tried to think of a suitable response. None was forthcoming. She flopped onto her haunches and took a breath as the magnitude of what she'd heard finally sank in. A glance at Sure Stride confirmed that she hadn't imagined it. He stared at the Princess with narrowed eyes, one forehoof tapping very slowly against the floor.

"It has to be there... the sun doesn't just disappear."

"After the last few days, Lady Twilight, I would believe it." Sure Stride sat down next to her. She hadn't even heard him walking over. "Princess... De Raptura, are you sure you couldn't find it?"

"I looked everywhere. I think. It's a weird sort of place."

"Show me," Twilight demanded.

"What?"

"Ma'am? You're talking about something inside her head."

In answer, Twilight's horn lit and glowed bright, almost white, as magic streamed around her. She smiled a bitter, empty smile. "I've travelled far stranger places, Commander."

She turned to the Princess and tilted her horn forward. The alicorn's eyes widened and almost managed to focus together on Twilight's magic as she advanced. She took a step back. Twilight's smile broadened as her magic took hold and the spell stretched out from her body. She turned to the Princess, eyes narrowing.

"Show me," she repeated.

"How... I-I don't—"

"I need your permission or the spell doesn't work," she said, putting as much force into the words as she could, no longer trying to control her patience. Her voice echoed a little when she spoke. The Princess swallowed and took another step away at the sound. "Give it to me!"

"Twilight, stop!"

Something, some compulsion behind the Princess's voice tugged at Twilight and she suddenly found herself unable to maintain the spell. It collapsed with a loud pop, filling the air with a faint tang of ozone and tin. She looked up into the Princess's eyes.

"Oh Celestia, what am I doing?"

"I was wondering the same thing," the Princess replied with a coy smile. "Though I'm sure you only had good intentions."

Twilight nodded, though refusing to meet her Princess's eyes... which wasn't such a hard thing to do, if she had to confess. "It's a spell that lets me ride in your mind. I'd hoped to use it to see this realm you described and perhaps try to understand, but—"

"You only had to ask, Twilight."

"I..." Twilight bowed her head. She didn't deserve it, this complete lack of recrimination. Even Celestia would have taken a few moments to let her stew before pronouncing forgiveness. "Princess, I—"

"Twilight, aside from my daughters, you're the only pony here that I trust." A cough from the door caught Derpy's ear. She inclined her head toward Sure Stride. "And the Commander, of course. I know you wouldn't hurt me. Just ask next time."

"O-Okay. May I?"

The Princess nodded. Twilight ramped up her magic, weaving the spell around her horn until it glowed like a tiny cats-cradle of light. With great care she moved her horn toward her Princess and pressed the tip against De Raptura's forehead, just below the base of her horn.

"Ready?"

The Princess assented and closed her eyes. Twilight tensed as she released her magic. After a moment, in which nothing seemed to happen, the magic began to spread and mingle with her thoughts, bringing the first hints of another's mind along with it.

Twilight had developed something of a love-hate relationship with mind magic from the day she had learned about it. The ability to ride along with the thoughts of another being, even in a most superficial way, brought her amazing new perspectives and insights into others, but it also carried significant risks, not least the nagging feeling that she'd missed some part of herself each time.

"Archmage Sparkle?"

Sure Stride's voice seemed to come from two places at once, one of the more disconcerting effects of the spell. She heard the commander pacing the room before settling into a moody silence by the door. Free of distraction again, Twilight focussed on her subject.

"Can you hear me?"

"Yes."

—Yes

The complementary answer echoed inside her head. Twilight smiled and felt her relief mirrored back at her. She pressed forward, wrapping the spell tighter around them both.

Can you hear me now?

"Yes. I keep hearing myself as well."

—Echo!

"You're hearing your voice through my ears. It's an unavoidable side-effect of the spell," Twilight said, trying to keep her voice as level as possible. She took a deep breath as she focussed the last elements of the spell and set them in place, and heard the Princess take the same breath along with her. "Try to stay calm. This is where it gets—"

"A little weird," the Princess finished. "Why did I say that?"

We're sharing some part of our minds.

—Are you gonna see my memories?

If I do I likely won't understand them, Twilight responded. Her charge had taken to mental communication a lot faster than she'd expected. Memories aren't like books or pictures, they're more like... if you want me to see one, you have to concentrate on it really hard, then think about showing it to me and sort of wrap it up in that.

—Like mailing it?

That... that's actually a pretty good metaphor.

—I like mail.

Twilight ignored the answer, focusing her concentration of the progress of her magic. She often envisioned it as a grand web of intricate clockwork that would slowly assemble itself. A final piece slithered into place to mate up to its companions as her minds-eye watched. She smiled to herself. The spell was complete.

Open your eyes.

Magic flared briefly as the Princess's eyes opened and Twilight saw her own face. The view was... different. In her experiments she'd seen the world through several sets of eyes, and allowed others to see it through hers, but this was novel, to say the least.

"Wow." Twilight was always fascinated by seeing and hearing herself talk through another's eyes. It was like a mirror, only better.

Wait, is that a grey hair?

—I saw that! You can see out of my eyes?

How did—never mind. Yes, I can, and if I opened my eyes you'd be able to see what I see too, but it would get very confusing and—"Woah!"

The world spun as her host looked about, moving in odd directions. Twilight had always assumed that one of the Princess's eyes just didn't work, or maybe she just ignored it, but now she realised they were co-dominant, and more than capable of generating intense nausea.

How in the world can you see with these things?

A feeling of confusion flooded her mind, temporarily knocking her for a loop. Twilight felt her body shudder at the onslaught and tried to project some sort of apology back out.

"Try and control your feelings."

"Sorry..."

It's all right, Princess, you're doing fine.

—I think I prefer Derpy.

What? But I thought that was—

—They called me De Raptura because I thought it sounded pretty but it also shortens to Derpy. I like that. It's kinda sweet.

But isn't your name Ditzy?

—Yes, but I prefer Derpy right now. Anyway, name is just a name, what matters is—

Highness, we don't have time for a philosophical debate about the nature of identity! This isn't how I pictured this...

—It isn't?

You weren't supposed to hear that bit.

—Oh.

Twilight backed her form away from the Princess, keeping her own eyes shut, and carefully manoeuvred to a nearby pile of cushions. Moving around while she watched from the outside had proven to be a particularly difficult art to learn, but she was becoming quite adept at it now and even enjoyed the challenge sometimes, though the odd perspective the Princess's eyes granted her made things a little more interesting. Twilight flopped down on a pile of cushions and let out a tense breath.

"Commander, when I wake up I'm going to need a lot of tea."

"Archmage Sparkle?"

"Please, Commander Sure Stride. We'll probably both need it."

"Of course, your highness," Sure Stride replied, now granted the certainty of orders from his highest authority. He turned and strode from the room. Twilight's brow twitched. It had been the Princess giving her last few words voice, something she hadn't even thought to anticipate. Perhaps she'd miscalculated the strength of magic required.

You're doing very well, she thought, prompting a wave of cheerful affection that felt rather more intimate than she'd expected. Twilight's discomfort was strong enough to send a shiver down her physical body that she tried to suppress. The emotional connection petered out, replaced with a slow ebb of worry.

—Did I do something wrong?

No, it's just a little overwhelming.

—I can't seem to help it, Twilight. When I think of how much you've done to help me and how much you've tried to help everypony, I just feel so happy.

Twilight didn't want to argue. She returned her focus to the magic, ignoring the unusual and frankly scary view of the world that the Princess's eyes gave her. The cross-talk between their minds had started to worry her, it was almost as if they were—

—Too close? But you're lying way over there!

Princess, our—Disapproval, rejection. Twilight flinched at the sudden negative emotions. Too close. She ignored it. Our minds are very close to one another. It's like I'm standing on a beach in the middle of a huge sea-storm. If I'm not careful I could get washed away.

—Oh wow, that must be scary!

It's nothing I can't handle... Tell me more about the realm you visited. How did you get there?

—That first night, I felt like I could hear my little Muffin shouting for me, but it was inside my head. I closed my eyes and saw a light...

The world darkened as the Princess closed her eyes. For a second Twilight wondered if she'd been left behind, until a faint glowing light began to form around her.

This is different.

—It's just getting started.

Princess Celestia never told me about—

The world seemed to rush around her all at once, flinging her between vast, glowing forms of light and colour that had no describable form or purpose. It was almost like she were flying down some vast glowing canyon filled with enormous glowing streamers that spun and snapped around each other, moving in silent winds.

All of a sudden she felt herself land on something solid.

"What the—" She looked at the ground and found nothing, not a even sign of her hooves. Nevertheless she was sure she was standing on something. She could see a distant landscape of some sort, lit by a bright light that felt like the sun. "What's going on? Princess?"

—I'm still here, Twilight.

Twilight turned what appeared to be her head and was rewarded with the world moving around her. At least that still worked, but this was so far outside her experience that she wasn't entirely sure what to expect.

"I don't see you."

—I see you, Twilight. You're right in front of me. I think.

Twilight took a breath – here or there, she had no idea now – and turned a little. The light seemed to shift slightly. She caught sight of a pair of bright objects, like glowing strings of knotted energy, moving around in the distance. They seemed to see her, even recognise her as one moved toward her and the other away. Twilight watched the smaller of the pair as it drew close, glowing bright and clear against the dark sky. It seemed so familiar. She reached out, though with what limb she had no idea. The entity twisted and dodged around her, every movement one of joy and innocence as it buzzed her once, then twice, before scooting away into the distance again.

"What—"

—Dinky.

"This is... what is this place?"

—I don't know. The sun was here.

"But... wait. That was Dinky? And that with her must be Sparkler..." Twilight watched the pair twisting and turning around one another. She could almost hear the laughter of their play, though she was fairly certain both would still be asleep around now, which meant—"Dreams. She saw the 'scary mare' in her dreams, and then the sun chased her. The..." Twilight swallowed. She looked about, looked at the light shining brightly on the pseudoscape around her. "Prin—Derpy?"

—I am here.

"When I turned, I couldn't see you." She waited. For a moment she wondered if the Princess had understood the implication, and was about to try explaining when the light shifted. Twilight watched the brightness as it seemed to twist, moving out from behind her. With uncertainty plaguing her every move she turned, head and body, to face the light.

Twilight felt the facsimile of her body moving, bowing without any prompting. Before her, arrayed in the glory of the sun herself, glowing purest white and gold, the Princess stood with her wings spread across the sky. Derpy's eyes widened as they fixed on the unicorn, as if finally seeing her.

Twilight felt her mind pulled inexorably toward the light. She tried to resist, to pull herself back from the brink, but found that some part of her didn't want to fight. All she could think was how beautiful the light looked. Finally, she let herself fall. Their minds touched, and for the briefest of moments she—

Twilight's head flew back and she took a deep, shuddering breath as the spell's fail-safes kicked in and broke the link. When she opened her eyes she was in the royal bedroom again, sprawled across a pile of cushions that were bathed in the bright light of an early morning sun. A large cup of tea sat steaming before her. Twilight wrapped the tea in her aura and guzzled it down, not caring how it almost burned her tongue. She needed it.

Sated, Twilight scrambled from the soft morass toward the bed, where Celes—no, De Raptura lay curled up in a shivering ball, weeping into her wing as it covered her face

"Princess?"

Somewhere in the distance a bell began to toll, low and long, its stentorian voice echoing across the city. After a dozen or so chimes it was joined by another, and then a third. Twilight ignored the racket and crawled onto the bed, pushing her head under the Princess's wing.

"Derpy?"

"It's—so bright—" The Princess choked on her words and took a deep breath. "I was right in the m-middle and—and it..." she swallowed and opened her eyes, fixing Twilight with a piercing glare. "I saw. Everything. I felt it, b-but it's gone again, I-I can't do this! I can't!"

"You can, Pr—Derpy, you can! Just..." Twilight blinked as she began to recall the last few moments. She thrust herself from the bed and ran to the window, pressing both forehooves against the glass. Wind-driven clouds raced across a wintry pale sky as the sun hung over the horizon, shining bright and clear. Below, Twilight could hear the city celebrating, bells tolling from every tower, ponies' voices raised in triumphant cheer. "The sun! You did it, Princess! You did it!"

"I-I don't know how..."

"It doesn't matter, at least now we—"

The door crashed open as a guard and a pony Twilight recognised as a senior Professor from Celestia's School burst into the room, panting hard and heavy. They'd been running some distance. Sure Stride was upon them in moments, screaming in the guard's face to explain such a breach of security even as he tackled the Professor back toward the door.

"Commander!" Princess De Raptura hopped from her bed and flared her wings, all sign of her earlier state completely gone, aside from the drying tracks of tears matting the hair of her face. She glared down Sure Stride. The compulsion to back away was an almost physical force, one that even Twilight felt at a short remove. Commander Sure Stride swallowed, bowed low and scuttled away. The Princess turned her gaze on the Professor, who reeled momentarily at the sight of her mismatched eyes, but recovered remarkably quickly.

The Professor bowed low, her nose almost touching the ground. "Highness, forgive me, I bear grave news." She stood again slowly. A glance from the Princess dismissed the guard, another beckoned the academic further into the room. She peeked at the brightly lit sky and smiled for a moment, but whatever levity she felt disappeared behind another, more serious expression. "It's the sun."

"I can see that! I have no idea how I did it!"

"Your highness?" The Professor's ears flicked back and forth, radiating confusion. She glanced at the sun again. Twilight followed her gaze and felt her heart chill as she realised what that look meant. "The sun has been up for about ten minutes, ma'am, but..."

"But?"

"It's..." The Professor swallowed and looked down at her hooves, carefully examining the tip of each in turn. She didn't seem to want to go on. "It's not rising any more."

The Princess moved toward the window, staring directly at the sun. She didn't even narrow her eyes. "It's stuck?"

"Not stuck, ma'am. We think it might, ah, be going backwards again. The rate it's moving, we'll get perhaps five or six hours of sunlight, at most."

"That's not possible," Twilight replied. She blinked a few times as she ran over the mathematics in her head. It just wasn't possible that the sun could go backwards. Then again she'd been uttering impossible ideas for days now, what was one more? "How?"

"Gravitational atmospheric bulge, magnetodynamic interactions, thaumic-intertial resonance..." The Professor shrugged and shook her head. "Honestly ma'am, we have no idea. All we know is that the sun isn't rising."

They turned to look at the Princess. Her eyes remained fixed on the distant star.

"I felt it," she said, to nobody in particular. "Just for a moment, it felt like it was slipping away from me. Like it..." She finally lowered her head. Again her horn scratched at the window; again it left a faint groove in the glass. "I can't feel it again. I'm sorry."

She returned to the bed, ignoring the ponies arrayed around her,and crawled under the covers without another word. The Professor cleared her throat a few times and then looked at Twilight, as if she'd know what to do next, but it was Sure Stride that finally broke the silence.

"I'll deploy the guard. When that sun starts going down again... well. Riots may well be the least of our problems."

"Your family—"

"I've no time and no troops spare to collect them," the Commander replied. "They're on the other side of the city. If they've any sense they've already left for somewhere warmer." He lowered his head just a little and his jaw tightened. "I'll have your parents moved within the castle walls, if they're still here. They're right outside anyway."

"Commander, I—"

"Don't thank me, Sparkle, it's only delaying the inevitable. Whether we freeze or whether we're burned in the pyre this city is going to become when that sun sets, we're all as good as dead."

The Dying Day

The Dying Day

Sparkler knew something was wrong the moment the sun rose. It had been fast, though not unusually so, and it was welcomingly bright, but it had been wrong. Unmoving. Moments after it had risen Dinky had screeched out of another nightmare and run to cower under the bed, refusing to come out for any number of promised treats or threats. Her only reaction when Sparkler had mentioned the rising sun had been sullen silence.

The 'miracle' of the risen sun had quickly soured as she realised it wasn't rising any further, which meant that somehow the world was still going to Tartarus in a tater sack. With little to do, and with Dinky apparently snoozing in her hiding spot, Sparkler taken a walk.

At first the palace had thronged with ponies celebrating the new dawn after almost a week of chilly darkness, but the celebrations had quickly disbanded as the palace guard reasserted their presence. Protest had been brief once it became clear the day wasn't getting any brighter. By some shared, unspoken thought, the denizens of the palace had returned to their chambers, or to whatever gathering place they thought might see out the end of the world, until the castle appeared almost completely deserted.

The main courtyard was empty as well, save for the occasional guard posted to some remote vantage point. Sparkler wandered the cobblestone paving, her hooves unnaturally loud in the empty space. As she approached the gates she could hear the raised voices of an angry crowd outside, demanding entrance, or justice, or whatever it was that crowds might demand outside a locked castle. The shouting raised still further to the clatter of steel-shod hooves as a pony yelled for the gates to open. Behind it all, a voice rang loud and clear, declaring the damnation of the world.

"... brings the sun and tries to shine it upon us in defiance of the gods but they have thwarted her! See the sun falls, torn from the grasp of the heretic demon-princess! Turn back from your sin, for the end of all days is upon us!"

The gates swung aside, giving Sparkler sight of a vast throng of ponies flooding the road to the city. Guardsmares – veterans, bearing the scars of distant wars on their flanks – pushed back against the crowd as it surged toward the gates, their ranks opening briefly to permit the passage of a squadron of city guard into the castle with a small group of ponies in their midst. Two stallions, half a dozen mares. One of the guard glanced at her and barked an order at the others, before crossing to her side at a brisk trot.

"Your Grace de Canterlot!" Sparkler's head shot up at the title, as did the heads of some of the ponies being herded by the guards. Her presumptive guardian clattered to a halt at her flank. "I suggest you return to the keep, your Grace. We cannot guarantee your safety in the open."

She thought to protest, but the look on the guardspony's face made it clear the 'request' was anything but. Sparkler reluctantly followed the guard back to the safety of the palace, passing by the crowd of ponies as she did. Some of them looked familiar, but she couldn't quite place them. One in particular seemed like a pony Sparkler had met before. Their eyes met as they entered the grand entrance of the castle.

"That's the Duchess of Canterlot?"

"She's the daughter of the Princess herself," a second mare loudly declared to the first. "Show a little respect!"

"I'll respect her when she's old enough to chew solid food. Gods and Celestia, she looks like she should still be in school!"

"You were young once, Star," the second mare responded. Sparkler couldn't quite read the look in Star's eyes, but it didn't seem as hostile as her words suggested. Almost sorrowful.

"I was never that young."

With a final, apologetic look from the second speaker, the group turned through a broad door, heading toward some distant part of the castle, and leaving Sparkler alone in the corridor once again without even the guard for company. With nothing to do, she slowly made her way back up to her apartments.

The palace was even quieter on the way back.

She met Twilight at her apartment door, with the ever-present Sure Stride rolling up behind like an obedient puppy. Recognition clicked in Sparkler's mind.

"I saw your mother."

Twilight's gait faltered and her eyes went wide. "She's safe? Oh thank Celestia..." She glanced at Sure Stride and gave him a nervous grin. "And your guards too."

"For what it's worth," Sure Stride replied with a half shrug. He glanced at a nearby window, eyes narrowing slightly in the bright morning light, that still seemed so strange after such a long night. Sparkler took the chance to edge between Twilight and the door to the apartment.

"What are you doing here, Twilight."

"Visiting Dinky."

"Why? Isn't she terrorised enough for your tastes yet?"

Twilight snorted and glared at Sparkler. Her eye twitched. "Why don't we ask her?"

"No. You aren't going near her, Twilight Sparkle. You're going to walk away and—"

"I don't have time for this!" Without waiting for Sparkler's response, Twilight wrapped her in a bubble of magic and lifted her out of the way. She opened the door with a second burst of magic and trotted inside, with Sparkler bouncing along behind her like a half-abandoned balloon. "Dinky? It's Twilight, are you here? I need to speak to you."

"She's asleep," Sparkler growled. Twilight turned slowly to face Sparkler, narrowing her eyes a little as she did. She set the young unicorn down on the floor and released the magic holding her. The ball fell away with an audible pop and Sparkler's hooves settled into the thick carpet.

"The bedroom, then."

"Leave her alone, Twilight. She doesn't deserve—"

"Sparkler, we don't have time for your grudge right now! I'm going to go in there and ask your sister to help me, because I want to help your mother and Dinky is the only way I can do that." She took a step toward Sparkler and it was as if every other emotion she was feeling was washed away by the pain that filled her face. She was pleading. "You have to understand, she might be our last chance."

"Sounds a little melodramatic to me," Sparkler shot back, trying to fan the heat of anger in her chest. Twilight's cool gaze did little to dissipate it.

"If you're going to let your hate for me destroy the entire world—" Sparkler snorted and rolled her eyes, drawing an angry glare from Twilight. "Yes, maybe it does sound melodramatic, but it's no less real because of that! The sun is setting, Sparkler! Forever!"

Twilight's magic gripped Sparkler's body again, dragging her to the window. Sparkler tried to resist, though she knew better, but the pull was inexorable and she found herself floating before the tall panes, staring at the horizon. The sun was already noticeably lower.

"See? When that sun goes down, we all die. I need Dinky to help me find a way for your mother to stop that."

The magic bonds slipped from Sparkler; she fell awkwardly to the carpet again. Stumbling and woozy, she chased after Twilight to try and stop her barging into Dinky's bedroom, just barely managing to grab the Archmage's tail in magic of her own.

"Let go!"

"You keep talking about Dinky helping but you never explain how!" Sparkler tugged at Twilight's tail, drawing a pained yelp from the Archmage. "She's just a foal!"

"She dreamed about Derpy, Sparkler," Twilight growled over her shoulder. "She saw the sun in her dream, she sees something in her mother. She's connected somehow."

"But—"

"Listen to me! We don't have—I don't have the time to explain this!" Twilight effortlessly dispelled Sparkler's magic with barely a flash of power from her horn. The door fell to another flash, swinging inward with a loud thump, and the Archmage trotted through.

Gasping as the exertion of using her magic so violently finally caught up with her, Sparkler sagged against the wall. The sheer power Twilight had used to dispel Sparkler's magic had been almost more than she could handle, yet the Archmage hadn't even broken a sweat. All the times that prodigious power could have been turned against her came back to Sparkler.

I hit that, she thought, pushing herself away from the wall. What if she'd hit back? It didn't bear thinking about. Sparkler stumbled through the door and into the bedroom to find Dinky staring at Twilight with rapt attention.

"You wanna go inside my dreams?"

"If you'll let me, Dinky. I think there's something in your dreams that can help your mom and I need to find it."

"But the scary mare—"

"She isn't real! She's just a scary dream that you had. Even if she is real, I can fight her just like I fought that hydra. Remember the story I told you about that?"

"I thought you said you ran away from that big mean monster! You should have blasted it with your magic!" Dinky bounced around the bed, shooting crackling sparks of light from her horn into the air to pop and sputter harmlessly over their heads. She returned to jumping up and down in front of Twilight, grinning fiercely. "That would have been awesome!"

"Dinky." Sparkler trotted to her sister, shaking her head. The little unicorn's bouncing stopped. She looked mournfully at her elder sister and even backed away a step, until Sparkler stopped walking toward her.

"You're gonna be mean to Twilight again."

"I'm not, Dink. I—she deserv—I'm not." Heaving a sigh, Sparkler looked at Twilight. "She says she wants to help mom."

"Yeah!"

"And that means you need to stop jumping on the bed and answer her question," Sparkler added, returning her attention to Dinky. The little filly rolled her head back and forth and let out a theatrical sigh of her own.

"Okay..." She sat down in front of Twilight and stared at her with the intensity only children can invoke. Twilight smiled awkwardly at Sparkler, mouthing her thanks, and positioned herself a little more comfortably.

"If you're really good, I'll try and teach you how to do some of the magic I'm going to use."

"Cool!"

"Yes, it is. Now sleep," Twilight commanded. Her horn glowed briefly, accompanied by an answering flash of magic in Dink's eyes. Dinky pitched over on her back with her legs in the air and started snoring. After a few moments her back legs twitched and fell sideways, her breathing deeper and more even.

"Forget teaching her, you'll have to teach me that," Sparkler said, unable to hide the awe in her voice. She remembered who she was talking to and quickly looked away, frowning. "I... I mean, I'm still mad at you, okay?"

"I get it." Twilight smiled and crawled onto the bed and lay down next to Dinky. She laid her head on the pillow and looked to Sure Stride, lurking in the doorway. "I should come around in about ten minutes or so. Don't try and wake me before then."

"Is it dangerous?"

"No, I just get cranky."

"I've seen her cranky," Sparkler said, keeping her voice low as Twilight wrapped the skein of a spell around her body. "By the end of the day she had everypony mind-controlled into chasing a stuffed toy."

Twilight briefly opened one eye to glare at Sparkler as the spell completed. Then she fell slack, her body relaxing so completely that it appeared for a moment as if she'd stopped breathing. Dinky huffed in her sleep and murmured before falling silent again.

Sure Stride leaned against the door frame and shook his head.

"I tell you, I've seen more crazy magic in the last week than in my entire career up to now. Celestia herself might have thought some of it was strange." He pushed away from the door and wandered across the room to closer examine Twilight's face. "Sure is cute when she's not wrinkling herself up with stress. You know she's pretty much run the entire country for the last week?"

"What? But Parliament—"

"Packed up and went home three days ago, not that they ever did much to begin with except claim their expenses and debate their way around the next pointless tax regulation." He stood up, grinning mirthlessly at Sparkler. "What, you thought the Princess just moped around the palace and sat on her butt all day? Twilight here, she's been shielding your mother from just about everything she'd normally have to deal with. Let her handle a few things to get an idea of what it was like, but all those committees and councils and all the paperwork, back-room meetings, briefings... bureaucracy doesn't stop just because the world's ending. She's been riding that monster on the Princess's behalf this whole time. Hell, she's even handled the few reporters that haven't high-tailed it out of the city."

"I didn't know that..."

"No. You were looking after this little hellcat," Sure Stride said, still smiling as he looked at Dinky. The filly stirred as if responding to his attention. "Twilight probably had the easier job."

Sparkler laughed in spite of herself, caught between imagining Dinky as the sort of precocious monster Sure Stride seemed to think she was, and wondering just how much work Twilight had really been doing. The thought was interrupted by Dinky snuffling and rolling over in her sleep. She muttered something under her breath.

"I wonder what—"

A loud yelp interrupted Sparkler before she could get the thought out. She looked at her sister. The little unicorn was twitching, her legs moving as if she was trying to run in her sleep. Suddenly Dinky squealed, her whole body jerking as she fought some unseen assailant, but before Sparkler could reach her Twilight's eyes opened, glowing with bright white fire as her power expanded through the room. With a blinding flash, cutting off Dinky's wail mid-stream, the pair vanished.

Sparkler stumbled to a halt, staring at the empty bed. "Wh—where'd they go?"

Sure Stride looked about, tutting and sighing as he considered the room. After a few moments he rolled his eyes to the ceiling and shrugged.

"Beats me."

Sparkler snorted and trotted from the room. She stormed through the apartment and out into the corridor, not caring which way she ran until she realised her hooves were taking her toward her mother's apartments. She slowed, thinking hard. Twilight had said Dinky could help her mother. If Twilight had taken Dinky anywhere... with renewed determination, Sparkler sped up, running the empty halls of the castle as she sought her mother.

Dream riding had always struck Twilight as the sort of magic everypony wished they could do, until they found out what it was really like. To a conscious, rational mind, the world of a dream was a nonsense barrage of imagery and sound and sense, without structure or any recognisable form. Riotous colour and shape impinged on her consciousness; snatches of impossible touch and taste and scent and a thousand other senses that didn't even exist. Ideas and fears and wonders and wishes pummeled her from every direction and none at all, because direction implied meaning, and meaning implied structure and structure was something that she couldn't find anywhere.

Focus. She had to focus. She existed, which was a good start. Around her the nonsense flowed and warped, a void of irrationality and delirium. Twilight let herself buffet along within it, straining with all her metaphorical senses for any hint of structure in the chaos, any sign of how she should perceive the dream around her. She heard laughter somewhere in the distance and a snatch of a voice denying the existence of itself. Artefacts of the Dream.

Luna had tried to explain the concept to her once, that the Dream connected to something more than itself, but the Princess had quickly slipped into her own incomprehensible language of mysticisms and metaphor, before falling silent entirely, and leaving Twilight no more enlightened than before.

That had been Luna. Always a little unreal, unworldly. Never quite a part of the mundane. For her, walking dreams was no more unusual than walking in a forest. Twilight slowed, relaxing in her search, aware she had little time, but knowing that she might spend subjective hours or days in the dream as her mind looped in and around itself. She tried to recall what the Night Princess had taught her...

All around the chaos raged, but it felt peaceful now. Almost calming. Laughter echoed around Twilight again and for a moment she thought she saw strange, loping figures dancing behind the noise. Their movements distracted her for a little while. After they vanished, Twilight realised one of them had been wielding an umbrella. How very odd.

She drew her legs close to her body and closed her eyes. Or opened them. She wasn't particularly sure on that point, but she certainly did something. Her mind stretched out into the void, probing and seeking, trying to make sense of her surroundings, until it alit on something familiar. The shape of a single idea, a tiny sliver that she recognised. With a silent laugh she reached out to the shape and held onto it, merging herself with it until she understood its most intimate details.

Around her the dream began to coalesce as her perception altered. The idea filled her, revealing the way to twist her mind so that the dream would make sense. A world abruptly took form around her, a brightly lit park heady with the scent of a warm summer's day, filled with the sound of singing birds and the screams and yells of foals playing, though the green was completely deserted when Twilight looked around.

She looked up at the sky and saw darkness overhead, filled with unrecognisable stars that shone bright and clear in a moonless night. Yet, all around, the world was daylit and warm. Twilight filed the thought away for later and began walking.

After just a few steps Twilight felt the presence of another pony beside her. She turned, expecting to find Dinky, but saw only her shadow stretching across the grass. She stopped. The shadow stopped a moment later, tramping impatiently at her feet as if it wanted to go on.

"I thought this was Dinky's dream, not mine," she said quietly, looking around again. Still no sign of the filly herself. Twilight looked at her shadow again, and then turned to look at the sun.

"Don't look at it!"

"What—"

"It can't see you if you can't see it!" Dinky bounced up to Twilight and around her in a circle, her head turned toward the unicorn the entire time. She had her eyes closed, but that didn't seem to stop her. "If you look at it, it'll chase you!"

"What will?"

"The sun!"

"Why would the sun chase..."

Twilight's voice faded away as she looked toward the horizon. Where she had expected a bright dawn, she found an enormous, flaming arc of light that filled nearly half the horizon. The sun lurked behind the distant mountains, enormous and angry, yet strangely dull for all its size, burning a reddish-orange. Twilight could have sworn she heard it growl.

"Huh."

Dinky had disappeared again, along with most of the sounds Twilight had heard up to now, leaving just a faint rustle of wind in the grass. Twilight reluctantly turned her back on the bloated sun and tried to spot the filly, but she was nowhere to be seen. Again, Twilight felt the presence of another pony beside her. She looked down at her shadow, expecting another odd little show of impatience, but it, too, was gone.

Twilight turned and then froze. Before her stood a shadowy figure, an alicorn, its wings raised in salute. Twilight stumbled back from the apparition, her frantic gaze quickly taking in the creature's body, featureless save for a pair of glowing white eyes and a similarly bright crescent moon imprinted on its chest.

A voice reached her ears, echoing and distant. "Hello, Twilight Sparkle."

"Princess Luna?"

The shadow twisted and curled around, losing shape and reforming a short distance to Twilight's left, now appearing more solid, but somehow less real. "We are the dream of Luna only. She has departed."

"But—"

"We are a memory, Twilight Sparkle. An imprint. The impression she left with every dreamer that she visited." The ghostly alicorn shifted again, swirling away into a cloud of black smoke that curled slowly around Twilight. "You found us by walking these lands as she once did."

"You're just—just a dream." Twilight closed her eyes against the tears she knew she would have cried if those eyes had been real. She took a short breath. It sounded so like her.

"This is so, Twilight Sparkle."

"What are you doing here?"

"Watching. Though she has departed, still we walk these lands and watch the dreams of all ponies. We can do no other."

Twilight turned away, stepping through the billowing foam of Luna's ghost, though she had no idea where she was going. The presence remained with her though, floating just out of sight. Strangely warm.

"Are you following me?"

"You are not moving."

"I—oh. Dreams. Even when they're not weird, they're still weird." Twilight shook her head.

"This is so, Twilight Sparkle."

The shadow reformed next to Twilight, walking to keep pace despite its earlier insistence. It turned its glowing eyes toward her. It spoke again, though it still seemed to Twilight that it didn't have any visible mouth.

"This little one, you shall not find her unless she wishes you to do so. You are a stranger to her dream. She has learned well to hide from the influence of those outside." The shade of Luna cast a glance toward the gigantic lurking sun. "The fear she faces is not her own. Another walks this dream, but—"

The shadow melted away, reforming in front of Twilight, forcing her to halt in her tracks. "She should not be here in this way."

"You're just as cryptic as the real Luna."

"We are sorry we cannot help you, Twilight Sparkle, as much as we would wish. This is beyond our ken. We are, as you see, but a shadow." The shadow turned slowly, parts of itself drifting and trailing to nothing, its movement not so much a motion as a series of reformations. It looked at the glowing arc of the sun and tilted its head. "The dreams of foals are often beautiful even in their terror, but one wonders why she would be so scared of this sight."

"She said it was too bright." Twilight stared at the sun, watching the slow-speed eruption of a prominence across its limb.

"Is it not?"

"This is her dream. I'm seeing it the way she would see it, not the way I would." Twilight looked down at the grass, examining the blades closely. They were all identical. She peered up at the stars again and saw a canvas of bright sparks, unmoving, twinkling brightly against a pitch-black night.

"You perceive it as she does," the shadow confirmed. It began to drift, losing much of its form until it was little more than a pair of eyes in a pillar of fog that watched Twilight as she paced back and forth across the grass. Occasionally the unicorn would pause to stare at the sun and then turn to some other part of the world.

"If she says it's bright then it should be bright, not just..." Twilight turned to stare at the sun again. It was flaring very slowly, shedding bright bands of plasma that curled up and away from the roiling surface, only to break apart and collapse back on themselves. As she strained to listen she was certain she could hear a roaring sound, a deep bass note so low that it was more felt than heard. "It doesn't fit. The stars and the grass are how a foal thinks they'd look. Even those mountains are sort of like scenery."

"You are correct, the sun does not appear to be part of her dream."

"If I could find Dinky I could ask her to explain. Do you know where—"

The plain was empty when Twilight turned to find the shadowy alicorn. She was alone. Nothing else stirred, even the sun seemed to have receded a little, its near-hidden face dimmer and redder than before. Twilight turned her back on it and looked toward the far horizon, where another range of mountains hung against the sky like a curtain, her shadow stretching toward them like an arrow.

Twilight turned a little, judging the angle of the light.

"Very clever," she said, tapping her hoof against the shadow's feet.

"We are metaphor reified, Twilight Sparkle," the shadow replied. It opened its eyes. It seemed to be grinning at her. "Again, please forgive us. We cannot be other."

The shadow closed its eyes again as Twilight marched toward the mountains. Within just a few steps her shade was crawling up a wall that had been invisible from even a short distance, but which now appeared so crudely decorated that she wondered how she'd missed it. Twilight walked up to the wall and reached out to tap it, only to find it billow away from her hoof like a curtain.

She chuckled to herself and peered at the bottom of the curtain. Four little hooves and a tail were clearly visible.

The filly squeaked and jumped as Twilight pulled the curtain away. She looked down, ready to say something encouraging to the little filly, but all she could see were four hooves and the end of a tail, fading into emptiness against a wall that didn't exist. Dinky's voice squawked again and the disembodied limbs vanished. Twilight looked at her shadow on the wall.

"Don't suppose you've got any bright ideas?"

The shadow remained silent. Without any ideas, Twilight knelt down to examine the spot Dinky had occupied, gently probing with her hoof and muzzle. She thought about using her magic but she had no idea how that would work, or how a filly's simplistic ideas of magic would affect her abilities. Assuming she even had any in this dream.

Satisfied the filly was gone, Twilight let the curtain fall back and made to turn until it caught her eye. It wasn't the same. It looked like a hanging from the throne room, but—

"Oh."

Candles burned bright around Twilight, arrayed throughout an an enormous marble hall, casting a glittering light on everything. The walls rose to eye-watering heights to a vaulted ceiling that seemed impossibly distant. All around the hall stood great metal columns, topped by blazing pyres that threatened to burn anything that came close.

Grand windows lined one wall, filled with intricate stained-glass images and vistas. Beyond them the same broad arc of the sun glowered and lurked, seeming to reach out to her with its ever-shifting fires. Twilight ventured out toward the centre of the hall, looking about in wonder at the sheer beauty of the place. It was the throne room in Canterlot, but it was a fantasy of the throne room, wrought on a scale impossible even with magic.

She turned to the throne, not sure of what to expect. Where normally was the welcoming Celestial Throne there stood a towering, imposing dais, lined with uncountable steps and reaching inconceivably high. A bright light shone at its peak. As she looked, the light resolved into a mare, an alicorn, her mane glowing white and gold, and billowing majestically in an unfelt breeze. The mare's head moved back and forth, searching for something but never finding it.

Moving slowly to keep her silence in the echoing space, Twilight walked toward the throne. The steps towered over her, climbing toward the light against the distant dark ceiling. Where they would normally be shallow and carpeted, here they were steep and bare, sharp-edged, piled up on one another, discouraging any would-be visitor from climbing.

Twilight tentatively placed her hoof on the first step. As she did she heard a quiet snuffle behind her, followed by a lowing moan. A unicorn filly sat a short way from the stairs, her back to the throne, her head drooping toward the floor. It was Dinky. She was crying. Twilight walked toward the little filly she'd started to think of as her student and sat down next to her.

"Dinky?"

"I miss my mom." The confession came out of nowhere. Dinky didn't look up as she spoke. "I know she's here but I can't find her."

"Dinky, she's right behind you."

"You say that every time," the younger unicorn replied. She finally looked up at Twilight, gazing at her through closed eyes. Her head turned slightly and down to look at Twilight's shadow, then back up to Twilight's face. Outside the windows the sun growled and ducked lower behind its mountain shelter, turning the sky a deep red. Time was running short.

"This is the first time I've been here."

Dinky's gaze was disconcerting in its intensity. She examined Twilight closely and then, finally, cracked her eyes open. They glowed with a pale energy that concealed everything behind it. Twilight could see the strength of the magic Dinky was wielding, but it was impossible for someone her age to be so subtle about it.

Except in a dream, she thought, glancing at her shadow.

"Why are you hiding?"

"She's too bright," Dinky offered. The pale light in her eyes left them stripped of emotion, giving Twilight the impression of much greater age. For a moment Twilight thought she saw a smile wrinkle the filly's lips, but it was gone, another figment of her increasingly strained imagination. Dinky closed her eyes again.

Twilight looked up at the alicorn above her again. Despite the distance it was as if she could see every detail of the Princess's face, every line of worry and anguish and loneliness. An energy radiated from her that Twilight thought she recognised, yet she had no idea where she might have encountered anything so potent before. It seemed to fill the whole room without touching any of it.

Ignoring the filly, Twilight returned to the stairs and began to climb. After a few moments she heard the clop of tiny hooves on the stairs behind her as Dinky ran to keep up.

"She's too bright," Dinky insisted. She tried to gallop in front of Twilight, but the mage was too fast for her. Squeaking and huffing her protest the little filly ran to keep up with Twilight on the stairs until they were near to the top. "Twilight, stop!"

The command in Dinky's voice was unmistakable and Twilight, to her horror, found she was unable to disobey. She stumbled to a halt, panting with the exertion of the climb even though she knew it wasn't real. Dinky walked slowly around her and sat down on the stairs, her eyes closed the entire time. She held a hoof up to Twilight's face.

With theatrical caution the young filly looked over her shoulder and then back at Twilight. "If you get too close, it hurts."

"Dinky, she doesn't want to hurt you."

"No, silly, it hurts her! That's why I have my eyes closed, so she can't see me!"

"But with your eyes closed, how can you find your mom?"

Dinky paused to consider this. She turned in a wide circle to examine the room and then sat down in front of Twilight again with a shrug. "I dunno. Maybe she'll find me."

It was an innocent logic. Twilight looked past Dinky at the alicorn standing atop her throne, knowing who it was and what she needed to do. What did too bright mean? It wasn't merely light, not in a dream, not when a Princess was involved – assuming it really was Derpy and not the conjurations of a filly's overactive imagination.

"Dinky."

The filly looked at her expectantly, smiling at the sound of her name. Twilight took a breath and forged on.

"I can help you find your mom, but you need to open your eyes completely. No hiding them."

"But—but the scary mare—"

Twilight tried to hold the filly's gaze but it was difficult without any eyes to focus on. "If you find your mom the scary mare won't be a problem any more. She's a princess now, remember? She can keep you safe."

The quality of the light had changed, Twilight realised. It was darker, a little redder. She glanced toward the windows. The sun was setting, its movement easily perceptible now. Above them, the alicorn Princess closed her eyes and let out a tiny gasp.

It was enough to catch Dinky's attention. She stiffened as she strained to hear where the voice had come from and then slowly, oh so slowly opened her eyes, blinking in the bright light of the throne room. The light itself seemed to grow brighter, blooming on every surface until the throne room was a fusillade of glittering stars and sparkles. Dinky looked at it all in wonder.

Behind her though, Twilight saw the alicorn begin to move. Like a snake uncoiling, its head stretched toward them, seeming to float in the flowing mass of its golden mane. Twilight felt her ears drop back at the sight and she quickly shuffled in front of Dinky.

"Princess, I don't know if you can—"

The alicorn opened its eyes, which blazed with a power unlike anything Twilight had seen before. They were fixed on Dinky. The filly stiffened against Twilight's legs. Shivering, she looked around Twilight's barrel at the creature above and whimpered.

"It's okay, Dinky, just stay calm."

Of course Twilight had no idea if she was speaking to Dinky or herself then. The alicorn drew back a little, never taking its eyes from the little unicorn at Twilight's side. It spoke Dinky's name in a voice that was familiar and terrifyingly alien, carrying undertones of heat and flame and a roar of a thousand burning fires. Twilight swallowed.

"Princess?"

She took a step. The alicorn didn't flinch.

"Derpy?"

As Twilight moved, the alicorn shifted, trying to find a clear path to Dinky. The little unicorn shivered behind Twilight and finally let out a stifled yelp. The alicorn froze for a moment, then its eyes flared. It lunged and Dinky screeched, flailing and tumbling backward down the stairs. Without thinking Twilight powered her magic, teleporting them both, seeking out the safest place she could find.

The world dissolved around Twilight and was remade as a great, undulating landscape of light and colour, cut through with valleys and tall ridges and streaming ribbons of energy. The sun shone bright around her and she turned, unable to control her motion and unwilling to try as the heat poured into her bones.

Again before her stood the alicorn, a living statue wrought in silver and gold, its wings spread across the heavens. Its eyes glowed with the same power Twilight had recognised in the dream. She knew that power. She couldn't look away as she was caught up toward the alicorn and pulled toward its fiery form. Twilight knew she should have been panicking but the light was so strong and clear, so beautiful that she saw no need. She had no room for fear.

At the very last second the alicorn's eyes widened, as if it realised what was happening. It tried to draw back. For a moment Twilight fought likewise, some part of her mind clamouring for an escape, only to give in beneath the roiling waves of life flowing through and around her. Finally understanding, Twilight closed her eyes.

Light took her...

Eyes opened on a riot of colour and shape. So like the dream.

Did she remember a dream?

She had to find Dinky, she was trying to find her daughter, to love her, to show her the light of that love.

She wanted to find Dinky to help her Princess.

A fantastic landscape stretched all around her, undulating and rolling to a horizon that seemed at turns impossibly distant and close enough to touch. She could see lights flitting about, dancing to and fro across the world around her. Here were her parents, there the ring of her five closest friends, the links between them so close they almost hurt. Here her first postal route, there the lives of her weather-team friends, there little Spike like a flame. Here her child so much love flitting across and away from her, down a valley that glowed bright and clear in her vision and she chased, her guiding light trying to escape from the love she poured upon it burns.

The love that hurt to look at. Too bright. Look away.

The valley opened to a plain, or its sides fell away, and it shone bright as she passed by, rolling and boiling and turning in on itself as she thundered past. Her guiding light flew on, ejecting out into the vast nothing beyond, cutting its bonds and rising away from everything. She followed, not wanting to lose sight.

But you must.

Nothing was between them now, just the single strand of her love that burns like fire down which she poured herself. Her guiding light flew on, chasing the infinite void, curling around in a wide arc that took her out and away but she was persistent, she flew on, turning and shining herself too bright for one love. She would never let go of the light!

Look away!

How could she let her only light go? It was everything. It was all she had, all she was.

What are you?

She turned and slowed, drifting in the void. The question and its voice tasted alien, distinct again from her own. She began to slip away, to break apart as her minds separated, as one became two, as the other became whole. A streak of mane, a slender limb against her face. Twilight fell from her, understanding dawning on a face that wasn't even there as she slid into the shadow.

You have too much love for one soul.

Alone again. Bereft. Her guiding light raced back toward the coruscating knot of energy and life and existence, the whole churning and fading as she had withdrawn from it.

I need to love her, she cried. Why does she run?

You burn, the voice said. The voice of her friend, or the voice of her love, she couldn't tell any more. Her child was gone, lost in the morass of life before her. Every part of it reached toward her, seeking the light she held, the love she had tried to pour onto her beloved daughter.

Love her by loving all.

Darkness surrounded her. The world was gone. Twilight was gone. She had only the light she held, but it wasn't her light. Not really.

She turned then to the world her guiding light had shown to her.

Called out to the spirit of the earth that it might find her again.

And let go.

The sun hung low on the horizon, sinking into the twilight as it set eastward, ducking behind the storm-wracked clouds and drawing the cold wind along with it. The night was falling, the last night, the thousand year darkness.

Crowds surged in the streets of Canterlot, nobles and commoner alike pressing toward the castle, torches raised high, crying for mercy, for relief. For vengeance. Urged on by the ravings of the preachers in their midst, they no longer cared what they destroyed in their quest, setting their hooves against individual structures and then entire streets as they pushed forward, looting and burning the ancient buildings.

High above, in the chill of her bedroom, Derpy woke with a start. Light flared briefly in her eyes as they opened, for a moment casting the room in stark white light. She stood, shrugging the crumpled form of Twilight from her back as she rose. Breathing deep, she looked about the room and then down at the little foal cuddled in the warm hollow her body had occupied just a moment earlier.

"Dinky..." She reached out to touch her filly's mane, closing her eyes. "I love you. Never forget that."

The filly yawned and snuggled deeper into the hollow, sleeping peacefully for the first time in days. Derpy turned from her, and when she opened her eyes the room was filled with blazing light. Her mane sprang up, billowing around her head and body like a cloak of fire as she walked toward the balcony. The doors flew aside, she raised her wings and then paused as the light grew about her. A quiet sound worked to her ears from the room behind her. Derpy turned her head, peering over her shoulder at her little filly one last time.

She smiled.

Princess De Raptura stepped out onto the balcony. With a powerful thrust of her wings the alicorn took the the skies above Canterlot, her body transformed to a coruscating blaze of light that climbed into the air over the city. She hovered, breathing the chill evening air, and then raised her wings above her head and let herself fall into the grasp of her power.

"Equestria!"

The fire of the mob's rage guttered out as they saw her rising above them, higher and higher into the sky, glowing brighter with each passing second.

There was a pause, pregnant with anticipation as the light of her glory filled the heavens. The crowd slowed and waited for her to speak. She opened her mouth. Her indrawn breath was heard around the world.

"I found it!"

The sun rose, seeming to fling itself joyously into the sky as the world turned to face it anew. It kept rising, its fire glowing brighter as it sought and found the turning face of its companion, and De Raptura laughed as she felt the overwhelming joy and love pour through her and out into the spirit of the earth, and from there to every creature upon it. Buoyed, enraptured, she swooped and rolled through the sky, revelling in the freedom of her flight, her laughter echoing from peak to peak whilst on the ground those ponies, that had mere moments earlier been set on destroying everything about them, suddenly found themselves throwing down the weapons they had improvised, dousing the fires, even singing and dancing in the streets as they abandoned their fevered rage.

The sun had returned, burning away their terror. Their Princess circled the city once again and made a beeline for the palace, coming to a picture-perfect landing on the balcony of her apartments, breathing heavily but all the more joyful for the exertion. She turned to face the crowd, now cheering her arrival amidst the failing fires of Canterlot as the bright summer sun shone down on everything, promising an end to the deadly winter that had gripped the world for so many days.

Derpy raised her wings in salute, but soon backed away from the adulating crowd, her mind already on other, more immediate things. She turned to enter the apartment, and her heart grew heavy at the thought of what she would face again until she saw the rolled curtain at the side of the door twitch and a little face peek out at her.

The foal stared at her, wide-eyed, nervous, but unmoved. Dinky took a hesitant step toward her mother and then stopped. Her eyes roved over Derpy's mane, over the faintly glowing aura that surrounded her body and then to her face. With immense hesitation she took another step.

"Mommy?"

Derpy held her breath. She nodded, sharp and short, and Dinky's eyes flew wide with joy. With a wordless squeal the little unicorn leapt up at Derpy, flinging her forelegs around the alicorn's broad grey neck and nuzzling into the depths of her mane. Derpy carefully held up a foreleg to hold Dinky to herself. She swallowed and closed her eyes.

"I missed you so much!"

"Me too," the Princess replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Oh Dinky, me too..."

With great care, she shuffled Dinky onto her back, lifting her wings just a little to keep her from falling. The little unicorn plunged into the glowing mass of her mane, giggling all the while.

"Ahh, Dinky! That tickles!"

"It's warm!" Dinky surfaced at the top of Derpy's head poking her snout out and peering around. "The bubbles are so pretty!"

"B-Bubbles?" Derpy turned her head slightly, trying to find what Dinky was talking about without dislodging her charge. The tentative sound of approaching hooves distracted her and she looked back to the doorway to find Sparkler and Twilight walking toward her, their conflict forgotten for the moment. The Archmage stared at Derpy, wondering and fearful all at once. She started to bow to her Princess.

"Twilight, you shouldn't. You're my friend."

The unicorn paused in her motion and looked up, a shy smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you, your—Um. Thank you."

"No," Derpy replied, rolling her eyes to Dinky, still resting on the back of her head like a living crown. "Thank you. For everything."

With another smile and a bob of her head, Twilight backed away, though she was still eying Derpy's mane as she went. That just left one other. Derpy moved toward her daughter and nuzzled her gently. "Sparkler."

"Mom, I—I thought she—"

"It doesn't matter. You were scared. I was scared too, Sparkler, but we're safe now." Smiling, she sat and drew her daughter into a hug, wrapping her wings about them both. Dinky rolled down her shoulder and flopped into the narrow space between them with another giggle.

"Mom?" Sparkler leaned back and away from the hug. She stared at Derpy's mane, frowning and ears flicking. "Why is your mane full of bubbles?"

Derpy tittered and twisted her head to look at the flowing mass of hair, ignoring the clop of hooves on the balcony – it was probably Sure Stride or Twilight come to drag her back to the real world again. "Oh! It's so pretty! Twilight, have you seen—"

She heard Twilight gasp. Derpy looked up. Twilight was bowing, but not to her: another alicorn stepped onto the balcony, her body glowing white in the bright midday sun. She looked down at Twilight, then at Derpy, and smiled.

"I greet you, my little ponies."

"Princess Celestia? But—" Derpy stood slowly, examining the newcomer. The other alicorn stared back at her with a serene smile. "No. You aren't her."

"In truth I am not," the alicorn replied. Her voice was the same, though it seemed to come from a great distance, and there was the impression of a silent, blazing roar beneath her words as she spoke. She turned to look at Twilight again. The unicorn rose cautiously, staring at the newcomer, and the wet glint of her eyes said more than any words could relay. "I am much that she was, and much else besides. You know me, De Raptura."

"Kinda."

"And you, Twilight Sparkle, her most faithful student. You have known me through she that departed, and again through this one. Do you remember?"

Celestia's shade slowly circled the balcony, remaining well away from the edge, and as it did so Derpy realised that she couldn't hear the crowds below, or anything else. Not even the wind. The silence was absolute.

"Who are you?"

"I am the light and the dark. The heavens and the earth. I am that which you wield and all else besides, Twilight Sparkle. You restored me to my love and helped release me upon the world once more. For that, I thank you."

"You're the s-sun?"

"I am, Twilight Sparkle. That I am. I have known you and will know you hence, as I knew Celestia. She greets you." The alicorn paused at Twilight's gasp, but didn't leave her time to speak. "Truly, I know whither she travelled, and why. She would be proud of you this day, Twilight, as would be your brother."

"Shining... but—"

"Speak of them no more. They rest and await you at the end of all things. Accept their gift, Twilight Sparkle, and be at peace."

Twilight seemed about to speak, but the alicorn leaned forward to nuzzle her cheek before she could say anything. A flash of the newcomer's horn brought a momentary look of surprise to Twilight's face. She smiled, all the tension draining from her body, even as tears rolled down her cheeks.

The alicorn turned from Twilight to face Derpy. She took a step toward the now shivering Princess and paused before her, looking into her eyes.

"You have proven worthy of her trust," she said, eyeing the slowly dancing bubbles in Derpy's mane. Apparently even hippomorphic personifications found it fascinating. Celestia's shade caught the slight frown on Derpy's face and smiled again, nodding.

"You have come into your power," was all she said before turning away.

"Wait, you can't—"

"We shall have time to know one another," the alicorn replied, glancing back at her with a smile. She stepped toward the edge of the balcony and raised her wings. "All the time you could ever wish. I shall know you again on the morrow, De Raptura."

The alicorn tensed as if to leap, but instead a bright glow filled the air and the creature in Celestia's skin faded away into it like mist burning away in the fire of dawn.

A wall of sound hit them as soon as she left, the ever-present rumble of the city and the rising, falling song of the wind between the castle's slender towers. Derpy looked at her friends, then up at the sun, laughter filling her heart anew. She walked back toward the balcony edge and looked down at the city, eyeing the destruction and the ponies working to restore it. Then, without a word, she spread her wings and leapt down toward them.

Twilight and Sparkler ran to the edge to watch the dwindling shape of the Princess as she flew toward the city below. They looked at one another as Sure Stride ambled up beside them. The guard commander peered over the edge and watched Derpy as she flew to and fro.

"What's she doing?"

"Helping," Sparkler replied, reluctantly. "She likes to help."

Sure Stride frowned at the non-committal answer. "Normally I'd ask her to take a squad of guards if she's exposed like that, but I doubt anypony would want to harm her right now."

"She's not the one I'm worried about."

Twilight shot Sparkler a nervous glance but refused to look at Sure Stride, instead fixing her gaze on the scene below. Her eyelid twitched. Sparkler rolled her eyes.

"Don't pretend you aren't thinking about the Town Hall, Twilight."

"I-I wasn't even—"

"Okay, what aren't you two telling me?" Sure Stride leaned against the rail and stared at the two unicorns. They looked at one another.

"Well. You see—" Twilight began, but got no further. A light flared in the streets where Derpy had landed, followed a moment later by a crack of thunder. Sparkler groaned and laid her head on the balcony rail and Sure Stride, curiosity getting the better of him, peered over the side again. He raised an eyebrow as another flash of lightning crackled through the air, this time accompanied by a streak of gold and grey that rocketed into the sky on a tenuous trail of bubbles.

"My bad!"

Her voice echoed across the sky. Sure Stride stepped back and fixed his eyes on the horizon, his jaw working as he tried to form a suitable observation. Words failed him. Instead he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, content to let the world pass him by for a few minutes as the bright sun shone on his back.

"It's going to be a long day, isn't it."

It wasn't really a question, more of a certainty. Sparkler rested her chin on the rail, watching her mother as she hovered back and forth over the city, not quite committed to another attempt at helping. She smiled as Dinky nuzzled up next to her and propped herself up to peek at her mother, as the alicorn sought her new place in the world.

"Yep."

A Day Alone

A Day Alone

In an empty throne room, the ruler of all Equestria waited for a pony she knew would never return.

The seat to the right of her throne, the seat Dinky had occupied for so much of her long life, was bare and abandoned. None would sit there for many years to come, for she knew none could replace her youngest daughter in that role. Derpy sat at the foot of her throne and looked up at it without seeing, unable to ascend the stairs she had walked every day for much of the last century. What purpose was there in rising today?

But the sun had risen, she reminded herself. She'd seen to that, and to the moon dancing close behind, the one chasing the other across the sky. There was always a reason to rise.

Entirely against Dinky's wishes, the funeral had been a solemn affair. Ever the iconoclast, Dinky had specified in detail how she wanted her funeral to be conducted but sometimes, Derpy knew, that daughter of hers could become so engrossed with an idea that she never even stop to consider how it might affect others. On the day she had found them, Derpy had taken one look at the plans and tossed them in a fire.

Even Pinkie Pie would have baulked at the mariachi band.

At the foot of the stairs another pony sat in her customary position beneath the dais, occasionally watching the empty room through lidded eyes and humming quietly as she practiced a spell that seemed to involve lots of shuffling of playing cards. The cards in her hooves clattered and rippled as they flew from one pile to another, spinning and curling through the air in an acrobatic display to rival the Wonderbolts. She spread them out in the air and smiled briefly before laying the fanned deck on the floor before her chair.

"You don't have to be here, Twilight."

The cards slowed. Twilight looked up from her display and smiled at her Princess. "Neither do you, Dee, but you are."

"I'm the Princess. It's kind of my job." Derpy closed her eyes and finally turned away from the throne. She sat down on the low step near Twilight, wings fluttering with nervous energy that seemed to have come from nowhere. The step was cold, colder than she'd expected, but she paid it no attention.

Cards rustled and slid quietly across one another as Twilight returned to her trick, or game, or whatever it was. Derpy couldn't tell, though she could see some unusual magic in use as the cards fluttered and flew. Magic that was beyond her even after so many years. Twilight made it look easy.

A six of diamonds flickered and turned over. When it turned back it was an ace. "Your job is raising the sun and moon, isn't it?"

"I guess."

"No law says you have to be here to do that," Twilight continued. Her tongue stuck out of the side of her mouth as she concentrated on her magic, and two more cards swapped places. "I checked."

"I had a feeling you might," Derpy replied. Her wings shook again. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about the two seats behind her.

The sound of Twilight's magic faded and her cards settled to the floor, fanned out in perfect new deck order. With a careful eye she examined the deck, frowning until she gave a satisfied snort, pronouncing her success. The cards whisked back into a box, which in turn slid into the recesses of Twilight's robe.

"Dee." She looked up at Derpy and smiled. "Go home. I can look after things for a few days."

"Twilight, where is home? This palace? Buckingstead?" Derpy bit her lip as thoughts and memories came unbidden to her mind. "My home is Ponyville."

Twilight hummed and shrugged. "So go spend a few days there."

Derpy looked away from the throne and down at her bare hooves. No shoes, no crown. All she wore was a slender torc embedded with a half-dozen round-polished sunstones. But even without the regalia she couldn't just go and hide in her old home in Ponyville, no matter that she'd kept hold of the place. Even if she could disguise herself the way Sparkler used to do, she'd still not be able to go back there by herself.

It would be empty.

"I don't want to be alone."

"You aren't alone, Dee. You have your granddaughters, your friends. My friends." The cards were back, wrapped in a skein of magic that quickly faded. Twilight stood, stretching, and tossed a final card back into the deck before sauntering across the room to pull Derpy into a gentle hug. "And you have me."

"There is that," she said, smiling just a little. It felt like the first smile she'd had all week.

"We could leave Rarity in charge. Or that new First Minister. Imagine the scandal of a donkey on the throne for a week."

Derpy chuckled at the image and the equally powerful thought of Rarity's reaction to it. Dead faints all the way. She looked up at the throne again. Some part of her wanted to call it a cage but that wasn't really true. It had freed her in ways she'd never imagined. And it was, in the end, just a job.

A few days. She could do that. What were a few days compared to all of eternity?

"Twilight?"

"Mmm?" Twilight pulled out of the hug and looked up at Derpy. The height difference wasn't so great these days, and though Twilight had no wings, some were already calling her the little sister. Maybe ponies needed that sort of stability in their lives? Derpy turned her head away and looked sideways at Twilight.

"Just you and me?"

"If you want. I have to admit it's been a while."

Derpy glanced at the small seat by her throne. Just for a moment she thought she saw a figure sitting there, smiling at her. Eyes dancing. It might have winked at her.

"I think I'd like that," she said, the smile returning to a face still unaccustomed to such emotion. "Perhaps I'll tell you about how I met her father."

"Or I could tell you about how she met Cheery's," Twilight replied, gently nuzzling the Princess's neck. Derpy sighed and leaned into the touch, closing her eyes as she felt Twilight's warm breath on her coat.

"You know, when I told them I'd be here forever this isn't exactly what I meant." A tear pulled loose from Derpy's eye and rolled down her cheek, but the smile remained. When she opened her eyes the seat was empty once more. "I hope I'll see them again."

"You will," Twilight said, putting a foreleg around Derpy's neck. "As the poet said, when the sun grows cold and the moon ceases to wander, then shall I follow you where you go."

"Twilight, you wrote that."

"Okay fine, so what if I did? It's still true."

Twilight stuck her tongue out at Derpy. The Princess lowered her head to nuzzle at Twilight, letting the simplicity of the motion take her mind away from the oppressive bulk of the palace around her, and everything it signified in her life. The motion ended with her chin resting on Twilight's forehead and the Princess let out a contented sigh, ruffling her Archmage's mane just a little.

"My love, don't you ever change."

"I never will." Twilight tilted her head and planted a gentle kiss on Derpy's cheek.

"There's a few things I need to take care of before we go," the Princess said, not wanting to move but knowing she'd have to do so sooner or later. The number of favours she'd have to call in just to get a few days away from this gods-forsaken place... "You'll be here when I get back?"

"Hey." Another kiss, longer this time, filled with all the pent-up love she'd missed these past weeks. "I'm gonna be here forever. You know that."