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Chapter Text

Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria, there were two regal sisters who ruled together and created harmony for all the land. To do this, the elder raised the sun at dawn and the younger brought out the moon to begin the night. The two sisters maintained balance for their kingdom and their subjects.

In the sky above Equestria’s capital Canterlot, there is no sun and no moon. The quiet darkness enveloping their world echoes with a deceptive peacefulness. The sky devoid of light is instead filled with dark clouds reflected in Princess Twilight’s gaze, the image rippling in quivering tears. She blinks quickly, trying to swallow her sobs, but her efforts only endorse her unwilling breakdown.

How pathetic, she thinks to herself. Reduced to tears at a time like this, when she should be the pillar of strength and hope— how could she even think about leading Equestria?

The passing of the sisters had been so sudden— even now, she can’t really believe it. As she recalls the past few weeks, Twilight curses herself for being so negligent. There had been signs, but she’d passed them off as fleeting paranoia. Luna had been suffering from bouts of exhaustion and pain from overwork, but they had never been serious. She just needed some proper rest and a good break, Twilight reassured herself. Now, the comfort was obsolete. No one noticed anything was seriously wrong until she collapsed after lowering the moon. Her heart had failed and the nearby medics couldn’t rescuitate her; an alicorn’s life was not so easily revitalised by ordinary ponies, after all.

Celestia followed closely afterwards. Coping with the loss of her dearest sister again was a hurdle she could not surpass. She had closed herself off in grief, struggling to raise both the sun and the moon on her own as she had before. Twilight and the rest of the Mane Six had tried to offer their assistance, but their best efforts acted to no avail, and they couldn’t comfort the grief-stricken princess.

Twilight shakes her head violently. If only she had been more attentive; if only she had done better!

All the events up to this moment have had an almost dream-like quality to them, from the announcement of their deaths to the funeral procession. It had been her that stood before Equestria and announced their demise, and it had been her to direct the wake and burials, but none of it had felt real. A numb feeling had been following her the past weeks, muffling reality from her mind. But now, as she steps away from the grieving repast, the weight of everything crashes into her. Her mentor, her teacher, her friend; gone, just like that. The world had plunged into an unending darkness, with neither sun nor moon, her own world following suit with an empty heart. Neither the company of her friends nor the unending paperwork could soothe her despair.

The tranquility of Equestria had been siphoned by the princesses’ repose, and the nation plunged into a state of pure animosity and confusion. What happened? Princess Twilight, can you tell us? Where are Celestia and Luna? And like a broken string being plucked from its grasp, she could only sit there with glazed eyes and an empty expression. The hesitant and firm response hadn’t been the hardest part, but satiating the eager eyes and optimistic minds that expected nothing more than a satisfactory response, regardless of whether it was masked by a veil of lies, was one of the most difficult tests of her life.

“Princess Celestia and Luna are no longer… with us anymore.” Was all Twilight would—could— utter, only just refraining from spilling out an amalgamated blithering of her hopelessness. Despite all that she’s been through and how much she’s grown, she wasn’t ready yet. In that moment, she had desperately wished that somepony, anypony, could guide her. That juvenile mindset taunted her, growing only stronger as she was greeted with the burden of the cold, hard truth. She wasn’t a filly anymore, but oh, how she wished she was.

And so, Twilight sighs, closing her eyes and shutting away the memory of the hard questioning gaze of the crowd at her hooves. How many times would she be called to answer about Celestia and Luna? The future of Equestria? Had these duties delegated to her even entailed this utter harassment, or was she just not the appropriate pony for the position? Her perpetual reluctance to step up to power and rule Equestria could only illustrate her insubordination and disregard of everything Celestia had done to guide her; yet, she just can’t do it. She feels like a complete failure. Isn’t this what she has been preparing for, all these years? Isn’t this the climax of all her training and work? Why can’t she just do her fucking job?

The tapping of hoofsteps against the cold floor wakes her from her reminiscence. She turns from the tall windows of the throne room, tearing her gaze away from the empty sky. A nasally, wheedling voice calls out from behind her.

“Princess Twilight, is it true that you are refusing to claim the throne? How do you feel about the press calling you Celestia’s failed protegeé?” A reporter had somehow sneaked through the guards and found her way into the throne room, poisonous words rolling off her tongue and besieging Twilight once more, as every other insult inquiring about her competence had done. Diplomacy is a nuanced, painful subject, and she can’t possibly fathom how Celestia had been so proficient at it.

“I... I have no comments,” she responds, barely masking the bitterness in her voice. Her eyebrows furrow into a distasteful arch, and the reporter pony smiles slyly in response.

“I suppose it wouldn’t be an issue, then, if The Canterlot Times used your response to... enlighten ponies about the current state of affairs? They’re dying to know. If you could just–”

Guards rush in, surrounding the unwelcome intruder and herding her away, cutting off her unwarranted snarkiness. Twilight grits her teeth and stands still, merely glancing at the thrashing reporter and ignoring her shouts. She shouldn’t even be here, what did she expect? Good treatment, and a chance to jab at my reputation again?

She’s endured a constant stream of criticisms for these past few days and she’s close to snapping. The stress of handling the princesses’ deaths against the backdrop of leading Equestria is weighing down on her and the aggravating provocations are only making it worse. She’s thankful for the aid the rest of the Mane Six are providing, but it’s barely enough to keep the country running.

Much of the paperwork piling up around her is filled with complaints from citizens about her absence from the public scene, accusing her of shifting her responsibilities on her friends instead of coming forward and leading. In reality, she’s been handling the bureaucratic side of the situation behind the scenes while leaving other matters to her friends.

Actually, now that she thinks about it, she hasn’t seen any of her friends for weeks. She’s been so busy that she hasn’t had time to spare.

“Please excuse me. I need some time for myself,” Twilight says, and excuses herself before any of the straggling guards could stop her. Even if it doesn’t look like much, her friends have always stayed by her side and their support is what’s incentivised her to persist in the face of adversity. And right now, she needs to talk to them more than anything.

Rushing out of the room didn’t go as smoothly as Twilight had planned, especially when she crashed to the ground after accidentally bumping into the broad chest of a certain earth pony. She winces and flutters her eyelashes in a hurried attempt to blink away the spinning pain, trying to perceive the figure of the pony through her disorientation.

“Golly, whatcha rushing ‘round for, Twi?” The orange mare humours, extending her hoof to help Twilight up. Twilight drills her eyes into the mare and gasps when her figure comes into focus— it was Applejack.

“Applejack! You came all the way to Canterlot?! Oh gosh, I-I…” Twilight excitedly mumbles the last part, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the presence of her close friend. She hadn’t been expecting to see her yet and felt shrouded in thrilled ecstasy. She could hardly express her enthusiasm. “Sorry, am I being too overbearing? I’m being overbearing aren’t I? Oh, I’m just so excited to see you, I’ve really needed someone to talk to and– um…” Her voice trails off as she’s hit by a flustered rush of awkwardness at the filly-like nature of her words. She shouldn’t be depending so much on her friends, especially when they’ve already been working so hard to help her keep the country afloat. What was she doing, pushing her burdens onto her friends?

Applejack places her hoof on Twilight’s shoulder and looks into her eyes, sharing a sentimental and understanding gaze. She gives a weak smile in response. If she could, Twilight would never turn away from her friend. She always longed for the comforting glance and the momentary peace it brought her.

“Twi, I know that it’s been hard for ya, with all that’s goin’ on. And I reckon that it’ll take Equestria a while to recover.” Twilight flinches. With how well she’s been handling the situation, there's a real possibility Equestria may never recover. Maybe, Celestia never even wanted for her to be her prodigeé. She couldn’t bear to weigh the chances of either probability. If there is an afterlife, Celestia and Luna are probably watching her failures in disappointment. She’s not ready for all of this. She’s not ready and she never will be. Equestria is going to collapse and it will be all her fault. Her fault, her fault, her—

Applejack pulls her into a tight hug.

“But we’ll get through this. Together.”

Twilight feels tears welling up again, and the burden of being alone instantly lifts off her shoulders. As childish as it is, she needs her friends, and she is glad Apple is there at the moment. So instead of trying to hold her tears back, she buries her face into Apple’s mane and lets herself cry.

“Thank you. I’m so, so thankful for you and everypony else who’s stayed by my side. I don’t know what I would do without you girls,” she sniffles. Applejack chuckles and pats her on the back.

“Let’s not flatter me too much now, sugarcube. The others are waitin’ for you, and by golly are they excited. C’mon, let’s go back to Ponyville and see ’em.”

Beaming at her, she releases Twilight from her embrace. Twilight grins back, delighted by the prospect of seeing all her friends back at home. Although she grew up in Canterlot, Ponyville has truly become the place she calls home, and she can’t wait to escape the critical eyes and endless paperwork, even if just for a day. She should be working right now, but she couldn’t help but indulge in this little guilty pleasure. She can already visualize the headlines for her absence. Princess Twilight, Abandoning Work to Frolic Like a Filly? Even one trip would be like a payday for the papers.

Applejack seems to sense her thoughts, because just as Twilight is about to change her mind and stay in Canterlot, she pulls out a cloak from her bag.

“Ya didn’t think I’d come unprepared, didja?” Wrapping the cloak around Twilight, she reassures with a wink, “We’re goin’ out disguised. I’m kidnappin’ you from the capital, sugarcube. I know you won’t wanna leave again, so let’s make it count.”

Draping another cloak over herself, she extends a hoof and motions for Twilight to take it, and Twilight happily obliges.

The two begin to walk away from the vicinity of the castle, and so much eases within Twilight as she relaxes in the presence of her companion. The overwhelmingness of being shoved into a position of power, the crumbling social sphere of Equestria, the burden of politics and diplomacy; she hasn’t had a chance to rest in what feels like decades. And whether it’s from her disorientment from the hard fall or the euphoria of being with Applejack, she doesn’t notice her friend leading her in a roundabout route to avoid the ripping social fabric of the world by her side.

While Apple sneaks uneasy glances and head shakes, Twilight trudges forward and stays unintentionally oblivious to distant flames that burn with disharmony, growing from the anger and hatred of those dissatisfied with her performance.

A faint sound of glass shattering permeates nearby ringing ears with a yearning for Princess Celestia and Luna’s return. If one were paying attention, they would hear that there was a pony begging for a necromancer to try and reinstill their souls, or for anypony to actually clutch the reins and guide Equestria into salvation. If one were paying attention, they would see the uncontrolled riots enthralled with violence causing innocent blood to sweep the earth and taint the waters by furthering the instability of Equestria. And if one were paying attention, they would see those angry mobs blaming everything on Twilight’s hooves because she has done nothing but “abandon” the subjects of Equestria.

But Twilight isn’t paying attention, and she continues to remain oblivious to those distant flames and the civilian state of the country.

Applejack can’t deny that at some times, she has questioned Twilight’s capabilities as a leader and whether she was even suitable to control Equestria at all. Her beliefs in Twilight as her friend, though, have never faltered, and she understands that she can’t really quantify her feelings or fully understand her perspective. The only thing Apple can do is support her and stand by her, for as long as she— as Equestria— needs, and she knows that that is the most important thing right now.

However, she knows that those crowds out there calling for the princess don’t think the same. She gives a quick sweep of their surroundings and continues herding away an oblivious Twilight. Maintaining Twilight’s safety is her first goal at the moment, and that means keeping her away from the bloodthirsty masses. The last thing Applejack hears is bloodcurdling screams as the two sweep away.

The walk seems a lot longer than it usually is when they were with their other friends, but they eventually arrive at the train station. Unlike other parts of Canterlot, it somehow remains relatively untouched by the raging inferno that is the riots. Applejack flicks out two tickets for Ponyville, pulling Twilight close to her side and stepping forward to get them stamped.

“No luggage?” The conductor inquires.

“Nope, didn’t need none,” Apple replies in an exaggerated drawl, lowering her voice to horribly imitate a stallion’s. Twilight pulls the cloak’s hood down a little lower.

The conductor glances at the pair strangely and Twilight swears he can hear her heart beating out of her chest. Ugh, has he noticed that she’s not a weirdly misshapen unicorn? Are her wings peeking out of the cloak? She begins silently panicking, her mind briskly rummaging through all of her possible escape plans. She should’ve known traveling undetected would’ve been too ambitious of a task, and she definitely should have seen this coming. There’s ponies on all sides, and if they tried to run now everypony would definitely recognize her. Fear thrums through her veins. What should she do? She glances at Applejack standing stock still next to her. Twilight gives her a few nudges, but she doesn’t move, only wears an expression that orders her to stay put.

A few agonising moments pass, and Twilight swears she can feel the soul leaving her body, but the conductor finally moves on to the next passengers. She lets out a strangled breath and Apple jabs her, smirking proudly.

“We did it, Twi. Ain’t that great?”

Twilight paws her lightly, not even bothering with an answer, and submits to her gnawing exhaustion. She slumps in her seat, and thinks, peace and comfort, here we come at last.

As the train billows to a halt, Twilight risks a swift glance out the small window to find herself staring at defamation etched in the previously untainted walls of the train station. Ponyville is usually so well kept, with its many citizens working together to make sure the town is clean and inviting. It was disconcerting to see, but miniscule compared to the chaotic weather ensuing outside of their stop.

Pegasi in the Cloudsdale Weather Factory were generally responsible for producing weather patterns and ensuring the most appropriate weather all year round— but teams working there haven’t been so well off. Even the weather in Equestria was bizarre, but this…

Dark clouds streaked with gnarled, unnatural colours were scattered noncomformingly in the calamitous sky, accompanied by a roping downpour of precipitation in every variety. Murky streaks of red decorated swaths of some clouds while layers of frost had formed over others.

“Welcome home, princess,” Applejack chuckles bitterly, noticing Twilight’s aghast expression.

“Don’t tell me you and the others have been living in… this since I’ve been gone, Applejack?” Twilight asks with uncertainty, scanning her friend’s face for any sign of shock. She silently begs for Applejack to say no, to say that everything was fine and that the pegasi were just playing a not-so-sensible prank, or that her friends were all okay and living happily despite the circumstances. Apple doesn’t answer, but Twilight understands her pleading face; her desperation for Twilight, or anypony really, to alleviate the situation.

“Actually, don’t answer that,” Twilight retracts. “Are the others gathered at the castle?”

“Yup,” Apple replies quickly. “We’ve been pretty spread out but everyone’s back in Ponyville just to see you, sugarcube.” She seems relieved by Twilight’s avoidance on the subject. Was the situation worse than she thought? Worse than this? She forces herself to listen to Apple’s voice instead of falling back into negative thoughts.

“We made good on timin’, but we oughta hurry back. I got sent out to getcha, but with how long that train ride was they might be thinkin’ we went along an’ eloped,” Apple says with a strained smile, trying to crack a joke to lighten the atmosphere. It was evident she didn’t want to discuss her feelings regarding Ponyvillle, and Twilight was smart enough to not pursue it.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Was all she says, and an awkward silence falls upon them. They trot along until Twilight spots the crystalline castle in the distance.

Despite the rainy hail and the concerning environment dampening the mood, she was still so excited about seeing her friends again that she couldn’t even express it in words. The state of Ponyville becomes a fleeting thought as her pace starts to pick up, her gait quickening until she’s galloping at full speed. She truly misses her friends and felt that even at their running pace, they still weren’t moving fast enough.

Before they know it, the pair arrive at the castle. Twilight doesn’t waste much time stomping the slick mud off her hooves from the pathway of dirt in front of her castle that had been transformed by the rain into a thick sludge.

They trudge up the golden steps redecorated with half-stained graffiti. They once glistened with Twilight’s elite status as the princess of Friendship, but now they were dirtied by her ruined image; it stung so badly, when she had worked so hard to transcend Celestia’s expectations and immortalise a positive image of herself in her community. Everything she’s worked for is collapsing before her and she doesn’t know what to do.

But it’s going to be okay, she reassures herself. My friends are here, and it’s going to be okay.

Taking a deep breath, she shoves the elegant door open and steps inside. She immediately gets a whiff of fresh cake with decadent icing— that would be Pinkie— and grins. Her castle hadn’t been touched at all, and it relieves her aching heart. She was home, at last. Now that she’s finally arrived, any reluctance she was feeling before has been completely wiped away from her mind.

At last, she reaches the throne room. Just like she anticipated, her friends are sitting at their respective seats expectantly. They turn their heads at the sound of the door opening and for the first time in weeks, she sees their faces again. A chorus of hellos reach her ears.

“Twi, you’re finally here!” Pinkie gushes, immediately hopping out of her throne and running to embrace Twilight. She squeezes Twilight with delight and holds on as tight as she can. Twilight feels tears welling up and squeezes harder, not wanting to let go. She digs her head into Pinkie’s mane and giggles hysterically. When was the last time she’s felt so happy?

When they eventually pull away from each other, she takes in Pinkie’s appearance. Her complexion was remarkably pale and sickly looking, her eye sockets nothing more than depressions in a sunken face. Her mane was frizzy and messy and as she returned to her throne, she walked with a limp Twilight hadn’t even noticed in her frenzied excitement.

“Oh, Pinkie, I- I should’ve asked before... I don’t know what to say. Are you okay? Is everypony okay?” Twilight looks to her other friends, who seem as equally worn down as Pinkie. Concern rises in her as she wonders what exactly has been going on in her absence.

“Thanks for asking, Twilight,” Rarity says with barely disguised exhaustion in her voice. She groans as she props herself up with her front hooves. “We’ve been waiting for you. We need to talk.”

“I know, I know. I’m really, really sorry. I’ve just been really held up in Canterlot and I’ve had no idea what’s been going on, I swear! I would’ve come down as soon as I heard any news or got a report,” Twilight replies urgently. Rarity raises an eyebrow and sighs.

“Yeah, for sure,” she replies sarcastically. Twilight’s excitement is replaced by confusion at her friend’s tone. She opens her mouth to speak but Rarity cuts her off. “You can explain all that later. Right now we need to discuss more urgent matters, Princess Twilight.”

“Uh… okay,” Twilight agrees hesitantly, puzzled by Rarity’s sourness. She makes a mental note to check up with her friend later. Perhaps the bad weather and trashed state of Ponyville had taken a toll on the uptight unicorn.

Pinkie Pie elbows Rarity and says, “Don’t mind her. Everypony’s been on edge, she’s just grouchy! We’re all fine, just a bit tired. And I sprained my hoof running around too much, but that’ll heal pretty quick. And I made us a cake!” She beams and the apprehension Twilight had been feeling dies down a bit. Things aren’t too bad here, then. She and Applejack sit down in their seats and she takes in the familiar setting.

“Well then, should we get started?” Rainbow asks. “We have a lot to discuss and not a lot of time.”

Twilight nods in agreement. “Can everypony catch me up on what’s been happening while I’ve been buried in paperwork?” Rarity rolls her eyes at Twilight’s statement.

“I s’pose I’ll go first then,” Apple starts. “As y’all know, my family runs much of Equestria’s agriculture. Because of the riots, lotsa ponies have been stockin’ up on supplies ‘cause they don’t wanna go out, and I don’t blame ‘em. But because of the sudden rise in demand, us Apples are havin’ trouble keepin’ up and have even needed to start raisin’ our prices. It doesn’t help that them rioters have burned several of our surplus stores. To sum it up, we need support, and quickly.”

The more Twilight listened, the further her heart dropped. Not too bad her ass, the situation is just as bad as she thought. The Apple family is renowned for their honest approach within the agricultural industry. They wouldn’t even raise the price unless absolutely the situation were absolutely dire, reflecting their will to accommodate those less fortunate than others. If the Apples are struggling to keep prices low… she shudders to think about how other industries were doing. And if prices are rising but wages are staying the same, the rallying crowds only have more ammunition to throw at her. The worse the riots get, the worse the economic situation gets, which will make the masses even angrier. A vicious cycle. She’s already dreading the next reports.

“Applejack, thank you for bringing this to my attention. Let’s work it all out after everyone shares their information.” The earth pony agrees readily and Rainbow goes next.

“As the main overseer for weather committee in Cloudsdale, I can safely say that we are fucked. A lot of pegasi took leave when Princess Celestia and Luna were announced dead to mourn, which already spread us a bit thin. Once the riots escalated and the price of everything shot up, nopony wanted to work under the circumstances and went on strike. Now we’re working with less than a fourth of what we originally had to produce the entire nation’s weather. That’s why the sky is so awry; we’re handing unattended positions to ponies who are wet behind the ears and it’s still not enough. We’ve got it the absolute worst!”

“That’s not true,” Fluttershy interjects. “Have you seen what the riots have done to the environment? The ecosystems have been completely ruined. If they keep going at the rate that they are, some places may take years to heal completely– or worse, they may not heal at all!”

Twilight furrows her brows. The overall circumstances she’s heard so far are more complicated than what she initially bargained for.

“With what I’ve heard so far, I think we should first send welfare support to the struggling essential businesses, such as those that produce food. That should assuage the crowds a bit. Rainbow Dash mentioned that many of the pegasi went on strike because of the high prices, so that should alleviate some of the problem. As for the environment, restoration efforts can be started after we calm everything down.” Applejack nods sagely, but Rainbow Dash huffs brusquely.

“Now wait a hot minute, Twi. Didn’t you hear what I said? The situation with Cloudsdale Weather Factory is urgent. We need help now.”

“I understand that, but I think the best course of action right now would be–”

“I apologise for interrupting,” Fluttershy abruptly throws in. “But the state of the environment is really urgent too. The noise pollution is driving animals away from their homes and the rioters are constantly leaving their trash on the ground, damaging the plant life and thus the food web. Some of the riots have burned down giant sections of biodiversity and a lot of animals either died or had to flee to other areas, overcrowding the territory and depleting limited resources. Not to mention the abnormal precipitation.”

Twilight’s head is spinning. She looks to Pinkie Pie and Rarity for help, but Pinkie only shrugs and Rarity doesn’t bother to look up at her.

Noticing Twilight not responding, Fluttershy says in a more agitated tone, “Twilight, these beautiful animals and precious plant lives are dying. Their ecosystems will take months at least, maybe years for some, to heal. We need protection and restoration projects. And not only is the environment being damaged, innocent ponies are being caught up in the violence as well. Taking preventative measures to protect the natural environments or at least setting up protected areas will deter the rioters. What are you debating over?”

Rarity snorts in ridicule. “She doesn’t care about your stupid plants, darling. All she cares about is herself.”

“Rarity, what’s going on with you?” Twilight asks, her voice shaking a little. Throughout the entire train ride, she had been anticipating a reunion bursting with joy and laughter. Not even Ponyville’s miserable situation or the pessimistic reports had an effect on the joyful scene in her imagination, albeit they did add more paperwork to her fantasy. But Rarity’s unusually curt attitude cuts into her like a knife, a whiplash from her delusions. She can’t imagine why Rarity is so displeased with her.

“What’s going on with me? What’s going on with me? How about you tell us what’s going on with you, Twilight?” Rarity spits bluntly, her elegant manner contorting with contempt.

Apple stands up in irritation. “Rarity, you promised–” Rarity silences her with a piercing glare.

“Don’t start that again with me, Applejack. Sugarcoating it won’t help.” She rises from her throne and struts over to Twilight, hissing out, “Radio silence for weeks while we’ve been left to clean up your mess. Dealing with all this chaos and destruction as you spend your time hiding in Canterlot. The letters and envoys we’ve been sending, ignored and disregarded over and over again! Now you say you’ve been held up in Canterlot? That you would’ve come down if you had received any reports? You’re one of my best friends, darling, but all of this makes me wonder if we’re even on the same page.”

Twilight recoils at Rarity’s outburst, finding the tartness in her words alarming. “I haven’t gotten a single message from any of you,” she states, trying to defend her case. “They must’ve slipped under my radar, I really have been so busy! I’m sorry for not coming earlier but–”

Rarity scoffs, evidently offended by the remark. “Slipped under your radar–”

“Um, if I may,” Fluttershy swiftly says, preventing Rarity from continuing. “First of all, we do believe you Twilight, and it’s good to see you. It’s just that we’ve all been under a lot of stress and pressure with the way things are going, and you haven’t exactly been here... Um, no offence.” Her voice seemed raspy and strained, as if she was exerting the limits of her consciousness by talking. Dark circles rimmed her glazed eyes, and her perpetual kind expression had been displaced by a look of fatigue and worry.

“I don’t understand, Fluttershy. We’ve all been under a lot of pressure, but Rarity’s the only one acting out here. If you’re talking about dealing with the riots, I haven’t really seen them myself, but I’ve seen the damage, I get it.” Twilight replies with a know-it-all expression, but her confidence quickly fades at Fluttershy’s look of utter disbelief.

“What the fuck, Twilight?” Rainbow butts in. “You really don’t understand what’s been going on, have you?”

“I mean, maybe I don’t know…” Twilight mutters apprehensively, but her voice trails off.

“Oh, you don’t know anything, princess! The complicit princess who’s been coddled in Canterlot all her life, the oblivious princess who doesn’t even know how to rule her own kingdom!” Rarity chides angrily, her weary eyes blazing with resentment. This time, Applejack doesn’t back down.

“How could you say that, when we’ve been through so much together–”

“She hasn’t even officially ascended the throne–”

“At least pretend to sympathise–”

The back and forth banter devolves into an interrupting mess, the volume of their voices climbing as the rest try to calm them down fruitlessly. Twilight is at a loss, watching her closest friends, the only ones she can depend on now, arguing because of her. Because of her actions— no, inaction.

Fluttershy’s protests fall on deaf ears and Rainbow Dash flutters anxiously between them, but they only yell over her. Pinkie Pie rushes around them, trying to pull them away from each other. Twilight wants to move, wants to speak, wants to do anything but stand there and watch, yet her body can’t move. The clashing voices fade and all she can hear is the loud thumping of her heartbeat and a static-like noise. She feels her breaths coming in short and there’s a lump in her throat and she can’t breathe and she needs to do something she needs to stop them she needs to fix what she’s done and she needs to breathe she needs to breathe breathe breathebreathebreathe—

“EVERYPONY, STOP IT!”

Fluttershy’s voice rings clear above the shouting. Her roaring plea jolts Twilight out of her panic and they all stop and stare at Fluttershy, stunned by the intensity of her voice.

“Gah... I’m sorry. I just- We’re getting nowhere with this,” Fluttershy mutters, massaging her temples. Twilight’s shock subsides and she struggles to blink back tears.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know how to respond or what to do. I really, really have been trying,” Twilight chokes back a sob, “and I don’t understand. I don’t understand what’s been going on and I don’t understand why this is happening. I should just leave.”

The tension in the room was so thick it seemed to be suffocating. Twilight couldn’t appease everypony, but she felt especially selfish for not even considering how her friends felt, or what the situation was like for them. She was so unfamiliar with unbridled excitement and joy painfully decaying into guilt; but she should at least shoulder that, seeing as to how her friends had helped her take on the weight of the country during her hesitance.

Her friends all turn to look at her, then glance among themselves. Rainbow Dash heaves a sigh and opens her mouth to speak.

“Look, Twi, this wasn’t really like us. You know that. We’ve just been so frustrated, with the princesses’ sudden… departure and having to govern the country and all the riots. I gotta say, Rarity did have some points, even if her criticism was harsh. But that doesn’t mean we want you gone. We love you and we want to work together to fix this,” she says, and everyone, even Rarity, nods in agreement. “We’re all just tired of dealing with this.”

Rainbow’s words felt like both cozy tea comforting Twilight and fire incinerating her flesh. She was relieved that they didn’t want to leave her, but she also felt horrible. She knew things were hard, but she didn’t realise how much everyone else was implicated by her inaction. Her reputation had dropped so much; they must’ve been slandered too just by association. Her realisation only heightened her guilt. She quickly whipped her head away to wipe salty tears off her cheeks. She couldn’t cry in front of them, knowing that they had been suffering much more than she had.

“Uh,” Fluttershy pipes up. “Now that we’re all calmed down, I think our first order of business should be stopping the riots.”

Twilight straightens up in agreement. The riots were causing a lot of their current problems, so if they could disperse the crowds they would be able to regain some power and stability. The question is, how?

The abrupt rumbling of the throne room doesn’t leave the ponies much time to dwell on their thoughts or properly reach a conclusion as they’re thrown off their hooves. An earthquake? Twilight wonders bewilderedly. Earthquakes in Equestria are rare, especially ones strong enough to be felt so firmly. A staticy buzzing vibrates in the air and seeps into their heads, a blurry pane of aftershock. She doesn’t know what it is, but it feels wrong. A feeling of dread makes itself known from deep within her. Just as the group regain their balance, a forceful wave of energy knocks them down again.

The second wave is on a completely different wavelength than the first; it’s imbued with magic. A power, ancient magic derived from an archaic source unfamiliar to Equestria, heavy with uncertainty. The blast of energy is a thrumming power, surging over them like a riptide and leaving Twilight breathless by knocking the wind out of her. It presses them down, not out of physical prowess but by its sheer intensity. Twilight’s own magic echoes in an uncomfortable resonance with it, like a chord played ever so slightly off. The rush only lasts a few seconds before it dissipates, leaving behind only the faintest wisps of magic. A deafening silence falls like a blanket over the room.

All too suddenly, the impressive columns that stretch to the highest points of the ceiling exude booming crunches and instantly schism, sloping inwards at the expense of the intense tremors. The floor begins shaking under its own weight, and cracks form across the crystal. The snapping pillars loom dangerously overhead, threatening to seize the lives of anypony who couldn’t surmount the trembling floor and move to safer ground.

Twilight stares up in horror at the giant chunk hurtling down at her, frozen in fear.

Chapter Text

Pinkie Pie scrambles to Twilight’s side, pushing her out of the way of the crashing slab. They tumble away just as the chunk collides with the ground.

“Twilight, snap out of it!” Pinkie shakes Twilight’s shoulders, rousing her friend from her frozen state. “We have to get out of here!”

Twilight blinks before stammering out, “R-right! The exit’s over there, we have to move!”

She tries to shout over the commotion and tell her friends to evacuate immediately, but her endeavour only leads to gulping a dangerous swirl of dust from the debris. She attempts to freeze the falling structures, cursing the weak structural integrity of her castle, but she can only slow the fall of the rubble around her. She feels like she’s inhaling fire and dancing haphazardly on the line between consciousness and unconsciousness, but she ignores the painful strain and moves forward.

“FOLLOW ME!” she yells as loudly as she can before erupting into a fit of coughing. Her gait is uneven and wobbly from the shaking floor, but she steadies herself against Pinkie and pushes forward. Frantically swivelling her head, she sees her other friends making their way to them.

The outside corridor is more intact than the throne room due its prioritisation of architectural stability over elegance and adornment, but it’s still damaged nonetheless. She leads her friends through the narrowed passage, stumbling around bits of rubble and watching her steps carefully. The broken crystal is just as treacherous as glass shards and she contends with her hasty pace to dodge missteps.

The prolonged tremors of her castle just barely cease to roar as Twilight tumbles down the steps leading up to the collapsing building, landing in a sprawled position on the muddy ground. She groans and lifts her head from the muck, coughing up pieces of dirt and phlegm as she does so. She digs her front hoof into the earth and shakily pushes herself up, shuddering from the coldness of the wet mud and the soreness from their chaotic escape.

As she gets up, she’s reminded of when she ran into Applejack in Canterlot. Thoughts of Apple’s warm smile and reassuring hug and her high hopes for the reunion race around her head. Despite the chills snaking down her spine, her face flushes red with shame at the remembrance of her arrogant naïveté and how it had clouded her perspective of her own mistakes. She was so foolish to believe that everything would be alright, so foolish to not perceive her friends’ experiences with value. And now, she feels as though the distance between her and her friends can't be bridged by her own reparations, like a rift so deep it parallels the damage done by the earthquake. Oh heavens, the earthquake!

Distraught, she turns around, ignoring the pain that speckles black dots in her vision and assessing the damage. Parts of the castle are jutting out awkwardly at unnatural angles, not doing much to obscure the sizable fissured sections of architecture. Her castle, once high-and-mighty, is collapsing under the severe damage from the earthquake and its aftershock— a cruel impersonation of Twilight herself, etched into the veins of the unforgiving earth.

But materialistic damage could never supersede injury to her friends, and though her voice cracks with fatigue, she calls out to them.

“Hey! HEY! Are you- are you all okay? Is anyone hurt?” Twilight coughs out, doing a quick head count. To her relief, everypony made it out, but her eyes flit over to Applejack’s compromised position; her left back leg is sandwiched uncomfortably between a slab of stone and the ground, preventing her from moving from under its weight.

“AJ, don’t move! Hold on…” Twilight’s deep understanding of helpful spells allows her to instantly recite an incantation in her mind, coalescing into a stream of magic from her horn. She instinctively transmutes it into an oblong shape that shrouds the rock in a thinly-veiled blanket of sorcery, as she has done many times prior; after all, she hadn’t graduated as valedictorian from Celestia’s school of magic for nothing.

But it’s different this time. The previous rupture of magic, saturated with a unique derivative that had frightened Twilight with its unfamiliar nature, seems to have muddled her mind with a perpetual droning of distraction; something she can’t just shake away, something that makes her magic feel weightless and devoid of value. She can’t even lift the rock that incapacitates her friend.

“Ack, what in the heavens?” Twilight mumbles, but her audible protests don’t grant her a miraculous bout of strength. She grunts with a mixture of confusion and annoyance and a sense of irritation itches at her. She despises feeling helpless in the presence of crisis, terrified that her actions might reflect the media that critique her alleged incompetence, that they would prove that those horrid articles had at least an inkling of truth.

Alas, she trudges over to Applejack and ushers Rainbow over to assist her. The pair place their hooves in the small gap between Apple’s outstretched leg and the slab, slowly relieving the pressure by propelling the rock forward. It falls to the ground with a thud, and Apple immediately sighs in relief.

“Thanks, girls,” Apple groans. “Pardon my language but I feel like shit.” A nasty fuschia-colored contusion is engraved on the front of her smashed leg. The contrast between the orange and inflammation is jarring, like an artist smearing an array of galaxy colours onto a flesh canvas.

Rainbow hooks her hoof under Applejack and props her up. Standing on wobbly legs, Apple leans on Rainbow’s wing, lifting her weight off the injured leg.

The wound’s prominence calls for immediate medical attention or at least some perfunctory treatment, so Fluttershy rushes to her friend’s side to ascertain the necessary aid.

“Oh, Applejack! That looks awful,” Fluttershy cries, affirming the unanimous opinion. The abrasion is misshapen and swollen, and the group doesn’t have any appropriate medical resources on hoof. Apple feels clammy to the touch and diaphoretic, sweating as if it were a sweltering day. Although they can’t determine her precise temperature at the moment, Fluttershy is sure the abnormal warmth is the onset to a nasty fever.

Now that the adrenaline coursing through her veins is starting to disappear, Applejack’s eyes feel heavy from the abundance of exertion. She begins to feel insipid about her circumstances and she swears the weight of the world is concentrated in her knees as they buckle. “Wait, Applejack is–” she hears somepony call out, but their voice is just a fly buzzing in her mind that gradually gets quieter. Soon, everything is black and her unconscious body crumples to the ground.

Fluttershy gasps and kneels down next to her friend as panic gushes through her, preventing her from handling the situation objectively. She inhales and exhales to rattle off awful possibilities swimming restlessly in her mind. She anchors her hoof on Applejack’s neck and rotates her head until the jugular vein is exposed, resting her hoof on the vein. Finally, she sighs with relief and the head-throbbing panic eases away.

“She’s just unconscious. I feel a pulse.” As the words roll off Fluttershy’s tongue, the surrounding ponies sigh with relief too, releasing the breath they had all been holding in anticipation. “Her injury is worrying though. We need to get her proper medical help. I can only do so much with my rudimentary knowledge.”

“But where, darling? The hospital here in Ponyville is filled to the brim with injured ponies– we couldn’t possibly ask them to make room for Applejack, and if they did, who knows how long that’d take?” Rarity says, and everypony but Twilight murmurs with a hint of sadness. Twilight’s face is unresponsive, doing nothing more than nodding sternly and chastising herself once more for not being acquainted with the situation in Ponyville. With all the issues her friends have described, she can’t even begin to think about the hardships she left her friends with. She shudders, indescribably mad at herself for being absent when they needed her the most.

Rainbow flicks her wings apprehensively, the sound pulling Twilight from her self-deprecation. “We have an excellent doctor up in Cloudsdale, but…”

They’re all thinking what’s been left unsaid; only pegasi can stand on clouds. Twilight can make Apple a pair of wings, as she had done for Rarity what feels like ages ago, but the magic used in such a spell is too fickle and Apple is in no condition to fly even if she did have wings.

“Twilight, remember when you cast a spell that let us walk on clouds? That was fun, can’t you do it again?” Pinkie asks, her face wild with desperation. Twilight shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, girls, but I don’t remember the spell for that one. Usually, I remember them, but the spellbook burnt up when Tirek destroyed my library... I’m sorry,” she adds another ‘sorry’ to emphasize the genuity of her words, but the others don’t look convinced.

“Okay then… What if we bring the doctor down here, instead of bringing Applejack up? Would they be okay with that?” Twilight proposes hesitantly. Given the current circumstances and her position, she’s not sure the doctor would even be willing to assist Applejack in Cloudsdale, and she’s especially not sure if they’d be willing to fly down to Ponyville. Twilight’s reputation has certainly dampened the public opinion of her friends and they’d be lucky to come across somepony who is indifferent to the opinions of the masses, but they have to try. There’s no telling how Applejack’s heavy wound might worsen, and Twilight can’t gamble on her friend’s life.

Rainbow opens her mouth to say something, but pauses. She seems lost in thought for a moment, like she is calculating the probability of Applejack living or their situation getting better. At last, she speaks, but her words are singed with uncertainty. “Well, it’s been a while since I’ve talked to him, but I think I could persuade him. After all, we were on the same team for a while...”

Pinkie Pie squeals in excitement, undeterred by her exhaustion, voicing her own suggestion. “Alright! How about you and Twi go up to Cloudsdale to get the doctor, and Fluttershy and Rarity can stay here with Applejack, and then I go out and see if we can get disaster relief in? There’s probably wreckage everywhere so we have to get them anyway.” Twilight and Rainbow Dash nod in concurrence.

“Sounds like a plan, darlings,” Rarity asserts.

“But I…” Fluttershy starts, a hint of reluctance in her voice. She surveys the group tentatively, trying to find the words to communicate what she wants to say. She looks back at her own wings indecisively before turning back to Applejack. Her eyes waver between Applejack and the rest of her friends for a few seconds until her dissent dissolves. “Nevermind. I’ll do my best to take care of Applejack here. We’re counting on the both of you,” she says, inclining her head towards Rainbow and Twi.

“Then we’ll be off,” Rainbow announces with a flap of her wings.

Twilight feels the rush of humid wind against her face as she flies, occasionally swerving between lumps of ice hailing from the clouds above them. As she trails behind Rainbow, she throws peeks at the carnage in the land underneath. Now that she’s up high, she finally sees the magnitude of the destruction in Ponyville.

The riots have deteriorated the more-or-less pristine upkeep of the town, thrusting the citizens into disarray. Tiny blots of ponies move erratically far below them, raging fires being quelled by the beating deluge of rainfall and sleet. She couldn’t begin to count the number of collapsed buildings— of homes— that they passed by, evidently having taken the brunt of the earthquake earlier.

Despair fills a cavern inside her chest as she observes the toiling communities left to fend for themselves when she turned away from the crown. She had previously thought that she wasn’t worthy to step up, but now she sees that she wasn’t protecting Equestria as much as she was protecting herself, shying away from her duties and hiding in fear of failure. Now, she realises that she’s already failed because of her fecklessness.

In her distraction, a piece of hail whizzes past her, brushing a primary feather and throwing her off-kilter. Wobbling a bit, she grapples to regain balance. She’s had plenty of practice with flying but it still feels unnatural, as if her wings are still just the magicked additions Celestia granted her and not a natural part of her body.

Rainbow glimpses her struggle and signals at her, pointing upwards and mouthing something. The steady roaring of rain and rushing of wind muffles her ears, but she manages to make out that Rainbow wants to go higher.

She watches in admiration as Rainbow angles her wings carefully, dipping downwards and catching a wind current that sweeps her up. She casually tilts almost completely sideways, letting the stream of air carry her and only flapping her wings every now and then to stay in the draft. Her figure breaks through the stormy clouds and disappears into their shadowy veil.

Twi hastily tries to follow her path, pulling herself upright and searching for the current. Squinting her eyes against the wind pushing back at her as she rushes forward, she takes a breath in and folds her wings in slightly, nervously allowing her body to move down toward the direction Rainbow had taken. She’s always hated these manoeuvres, a fear of plummeting to her death biting at her.

Noticing that she’s lower than when Rainbow had caught the current, she shakes her head and starts to ascend to try again. As she climbs, she suddenly finds the current— but not in the way she expected.

She meets the gust face-first, crashing into a wall of wind. The sharp gales tear at her protective plumes, ruffling over her flight feathers and sending her flailing through the sky, hurled to and fro as the current pushes her out. She attempts to steady herself but she just can’t get her wings to beat in time, her muscles straining to keep up, resulting in an awkward thwacking of the air.

Just as she starts spiralling down, a hoof stretches out and grabs hers. Rainbow Dash clenches onto her tightly and tugs her towards the draught, wings beating fiercely as she bears Twilight’s weight.

“C’mon! You can do it!” Rainbow shouts over the thundering precipitation. Twilight doesn’t respond, the brutal storm not allotting Twilight any expendable energy to talk; and just as she feels like she’s going to succumb to the sheer force of the winds, Rainbow and Twilight break through the storm and land roughly on a patch of clouds in the outskirts of the city.

“Thank you,” Twilight gasps out, splayed out on the soft clouds lining Cloudsdale’s terrain. Rainbow waits as she catches her breath and pushes herself up from her slumped position on the ground. Standing up, she examines the city in front of them.

Cloudsdale is like a moment caught in time, a picture taken in solitude, abnormally still and desolate compared to the hellish gusts of wind and precipitation that litter the sky below and atrophy the ground. Albeit its architectural prowess, many of the most prominent buildings are stained with fractures and scarred with the dissatisfaction of its unseen residents; but not a pony in sight seemingly responsible for the destruction permanently etched into its structure, rendering the damage nothing more than a remnant of what the city once was.

“What happened here?” Twilight breathes shakily, stricken by the forlorn image of the once bustling city. It’s been a long time since her last visit here, but she recognises that the scene before her is not reflective of the true Cloudsdale— the one Rainbow was raised in.

“I–” Rainbow starts, but the words are stuck in her mouth. Twilight analyses her friend’s face, but there isn’t much to see— her face is solemn, but otherwise unreadable, and Rainbow returns her friend’s gaze with a weary smile. “Nevermind. Let’s just go.” She says nothing more and doesn’t give Twilight the opportunity to probe.

“Wait–” Twilight tries to interject, indulging in her own curiosity, but Rainbow only struts forward with determination and ignores Twilight. Twilight stumbles forward to catch up with Rainbow and match her gait, and the rest of the trek is silent. More than once, Twilight wants to encroach on the subject again, to envelop her words in a kind veil of comfort and tell her she understands— but she can’t muster the courage to, because she doesn’t understand. She can recall the time Tirek destroyed the Golden Oak Library, the place she called home, but she can’t delude herself into thinking she understands the nuance of Cloudsdale’s dissolution and what it meant to Rainbow, her home destroyed and self-justified by a society Twilight has never and can never truly be a part of.

As their trudge along the winding path comes to an end, uninterrupted due to the obsolescence of Cloudsdale and hardly restrained by the occasional lopsided pillar or pile of debris, the pair finally finds themselves in front of the doctor’s house— mostly intact, due partially to the the city’s opt for structural integrity instead of whatever Twilight’s castle had had.

His house upholds the lopsided yet secure quality of Cloudsdale architecture, coated with pale downy puffs and upheld by sleek pillars, and it stands with tenacity against the backdrop of its derelict companions. Rainbow laughs nervously, then knocks on the door.

After a moment of no response, Rainbow says, “Twi, he won’t open his door for us. Let’s just go back to Ponyville, and–” Her desire to leave is interrupted by the swinging of the door. Out steps a stallion with an unkempt appearance, soot-covered and skinny in a freakishly unnatural way, with bones jutting out like they want to penetrate his paper-like skin. A first aid bag is lazily strung over his side, looking too heavy for his physique. With his eyes sinking inwards, and a sickly complexion, this doctor looks like he could pass for a poorly reanimated zombie.

“Dashie? Is that you?” The stallion asks with a hint of delight in his voice, but his nonchalant expression doesn’t match his tone.

“Soarin’... Oh, you look awful! What in Equestria happened to you?” Rainbow replies cautiously, but like Soarin’s, her expression doesn’t match her tone; she looks incredibly concerned for the stallion, and even makes an attempt to caress his face.

Twilight raises an eyebrow. “Dashie?” she asks, and Rainbow shoots her a look that says shut up.

“I’ll explain later. Soarin’, can we come in for a moment?” Rainbow asks, tilting her head toward the inside of the house. Soarin’ nods briefly in response and moves aside, letting the two enter the abode.

Twilight’s first reaction to the interior of Soarin’s house is to restrain a flinch from the disorganisation strewn about. She feels crazy just staring at the asymmetrical nature of the mess and can’t fathom living in it, but the stallion seems to be getting along just fine. In fact, looking closer, the clutter has an almost intentionally scattered pattern, dust obsolete in areas it should be clustered and items in similar categories grouped together; like a veil of cleanliness over a disorderly mess. She discreetly bumps a few items into more orderly configurations anyway.

“Sorry, I know it’s messy. I wasn’t expecting visitors,” Soarin’ says, taking a seat on a pile of books and motioning for them to sit as well. “Nor was I expecting the Princess of Friendship.” Twilight paws the ground uneasily, her eyes flitting from corner to corner assessing the dilapidated state.

“Yeah, we’re not exactly here under the best circumstances. But, uh, it’s been a while. How are you holding up?” Rainbow asks, her eyes trained on the ground.

“I’ve been… okay, I guess. Things have been kinda rough lately, y’know, because of the whole princess situation.” He glances at Twilight. “The entire city got a bit tousled, and now everypony’s gone. Just like that. Even Spitfire– haven’t heard anything from her in weeks.”

He sighs, standing up from the pile of books and navigates to a poster strung lazily on the wall. It depicts a colourful graphic of the Wonderbolts, each member flying skillfully in an elliptical pattern about a cloud. “I just wish Spitfire would say something. I want to know if the team’s disbanded, or what.”

Rainbow grins. “C’mon, you know her. I doubt the team’s gone, we just gotta get our mojo back. Things will simmer down eventually.”

Twilight breathes shakily at the door, disregarding the playful banter between the two. Her ears are muffled by a deafening ringing, and her thoughts are jumbled in her mind, muddled by the uncleanliness of the dwelling. The original prickling feeling slithering over her skin is fiercer now as the untidy arrangement screams at her, scratching at her senses. She can’t help but adjust some piles before pulling herself back. It’s rude, she knows, to touch things that don’t belong to you— she learned that rule, as all do, when she was a filly— but the urge taunts her, clawing at her mind and whispering in her ears.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Twilight suddenly blurts, and quickly exits the enclosed space to get some air.

“Wait, Twi, it’s not like that–”

Twilight shuts the door and gulps down a fresh breath of air, her chest heaving as she struggles to regain her composure. Breathe. Breathe.

“...Annnd she’s gone. I bet she thinks I was flirting, or something. I said I’d explain later... Jeez,” Rainbow says, rolling her eyes.

Soarin’ turns from the poster. “Well, were you?”

“What?”

“What.”

“Soarin’... You know it’s not like that. It hasn’t been like that for months.” Rainbow mumbles sheepishly, her face flushed red with embarrassment. Soarin’ averts his gaze dejectedly and sighs again.

“I get it. It’s just been so long since I’ve been with anypony. The princess’ situation certainly hasn’t made it easy on me, and there just hasn’t really been anypony I can turn to.” He shuffles to Rainbow’s side awkwardly. “Please, Dashie?”

“I…” Rainbow says, looking conflicted. Despite her reluctance, she knows Soarin’ is right— it has been a while, and she certainly misses what they once had, even if there were some… bumps. She should seize the opportunity, use it as a way to distract herself from the hellish reality she lives in, but she also knows she can’t. Her loyalty lies in her friends, in Applejack, and that has and always will be crystal clear.

“No, Soarin’. I’m not here for you, I’m sorry. We need your help.”

Soarin’ scoffs, his attitude taking a one-eighty. “I should’ve known. Go on, what do you need?”

Rainbow winces from his tone, taking a deep breath to suppress her irritation at his harshness and biting back a sarcastic retort.

“It’s Applejack. She got injured pretty badly, and we could use your help.”

“Of course this is about your friends. It always is. Besides, I’m already low on supplies as is– I don’t think I can afford to help anypony right now,” Soarin’ laughs bitterly.

“Soarin’, you’ve been holed up in this shitshow the second the news of the Princess’ passing drifted to Cloudsdale. There’s no way you’re low on supplies!” Rainbow spits, her displeasure fermenting in her fervent tone. She narrows her eyes, her pupils fixed with distaste on her ex. “You’re just a heartless bastard. You always have been.”

“Me? Heartless? Of all ponies, Rainbow Dash, how can you possibly call me heartless? The amount of shit I did for you,” he hissed, wavering his hoof precariously in front of Rainbow’s face, “while you never gave me the time of day, always prioritising your friends over your boyfriend. If we’re calling anypony–”

The door suddenly swings open, banging violently into a stack of books and bringing rise to a thick swirl of dust in the room. Rainbow swears between coughs at the unexpected slam, squinting her eyes and instinctively turning to the source of the noise. The dissipation of the dust allows Rainbow to clearly discern the figure of Twilight, her face frantic and her breathing erratic.

“SORRY, sorry! I, uh-ack- I- Just- Just COME OUTSIDE! Now!” Twilight struggles to deliver a comprehensible sentence, her words turbulent and choked; she’s frazzled and dazed, and hardly even able to stammer her urgent request before quickly whipping out of the house. In a concerned confusion, Rainbow quickly follows her panic-stricken friend and Soarin’ trails behind.

Twilight canters ahead, agitatedly scurrying in a jagged manner as Rainbow and Soarin’ catch up with her in bewilderment. Without warning, Twilight whirls around and takes a running start, vaulting into the air and gesturing at them to join her. Sharing a perplexed stare, they fly up as well.

The trio peeks over a wall of clouds in the fringes of the city, peering at an area shrouded with stormy obfuscations and sporadic hailing— a once tranquil view, granting its citizens an amazing glimpse of the luscious land and bustling cities below, but now an area tainted by the deteriorating compassion of society. Everypony is restless, their anger a harsh reflection of Twilight’s incompetence— they need somepony to look up to.

Twilight feels a pang of bitterness again, her hysteria interrupted by a reminder of Celestia and Luna. Since her departure from Canterlot, she’s been intertwined in a woven string of disasters that only escalated when she tried to unravel it, and she hasn’t had much time to cope with the princess’ deaths, only allowing herself shallow references of their passing. She feels guilty for distracting herself, intentionally or not.

A ray of light peeks out from behind a cluster of clouds, but the illumination is not from Luna’s moon or Celestia’s sun; it seeps into Twilight’s mind and pools into her thoughts. For a moment, her face is barren and her stomach is filled with grief, oblivious to the inquisitive looks from the pegasi demanding an explanation for her frantic behaviour. But the light peeping shyly from behind the clouds creeps out and grows brighter, and Twilight is pulled from her forlorn; she gasps, aware once more of what sent her emotions into a flurry.

“There! Rainbow, Soarin’, look! What in Equestria is that?” Twilight says in a shrill voice, pointing toward the unnatural light source radiating from Canterlot’s direction. Soarin’ and Rainbow turn their heads at Twilight’s request and subsequently gasp, taken aback by the sudden presence of the radiant illumination. It grows, like it is insatiably hungry for more space to occupy or sky to swallow up, and more clouds dissipate to reveal the nature of the light source. It is similar to a rip in flimsy fabric, incising the sky like flesh and extending downwards diagonally. When Twilight concentrates, she can sense a pinpoint of extraordinary magical power in the centre of the lumination, spinning and coiling over itself, aching to be released. The three watch in amazement as colours of every variety sweep its surface and swim along it in a mystical way, entrancing the feeble minds of those watching the hues swirl and dance.

Rainbow sputters, clearly trying to say something, but like Twilight before, she is unable to construe her thoughts into a coherent sentence. Soarin’s head is cocked unnaturally to the side, like he is trying to interpret every angle of the sudden rip in the sky and rationalise it— but Twilight’s mind is spinning, and there is no rationalising what they are witnessing.

A million possibilities intrude Twilight’s mind, all but some taunting her with their deplorability; she feels like a feverish filly again, like when she was high off laughing gas after her tooth extraction or giddy with delight after acing every test of the semester. As much as she doesn’t want to indulge in juvenile thinking, she can’t help it. It is far too tempting. Are Celestia and Luna coming back? Is everything going to be okay? Could they really have resurrected? Will I not have to step up and rule Equestria? Will everything go back to normal?

The colours continue to dance in the strange gash and tint the sky with their brilliant tones, enthralling the three and inciting Twilight’s childish hopes more than it should. She knows she shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but she grins, a warm smile so wide it practically stretches from ear to ear.

“Rainbow Dash! The princesses could be back! Oh, I bet they are, too! What else could this mean!?” Twilight says in a singsong voice, her new demeanour a jarring juxtaposition from her previous frantic one. She looks at Rainbow, appraising her face, and Rainbow meets her eyes with a conflicted expression.

“I dunno, Twi... I wouldn’t get your hopes up too much. This is really weird...” Rainbow mumbles, her eyes switching between the rip in the sky and Twilight. Twilight laughs, disregarding her friend’s caution. What else could it be but the princesses? Who else could contain such power, such raw divinity?

“We have to go and welcome them! No, we need to gather everypony first so we can all be there, right? Or should we go directly over and wait to greet them? Ah, I don’t know! There’s so many things we could do, oh, I need a list!” Twilight exclaims, countless lines of thoughts running through her mind.

Soarin’ gulps. “I’d prefer the former option. Not looking forward to getting caught in the force of those freaky earthquakes from earlier.” Oh, she hadn’t even considered that. Then what should they do?

“How about this,” Rainbow says. “Chill for a moment, Twi. Let’s go back to Ponyville first, get Applejack fixed up, and then we come back and check out what’s going on. ‘Kay?”

Twilight ponders the suggestion, then shakes her head doubtfully. “That’ll take too long. I want us to be there as soon as possible– we should be the first to greet the princesses. Can we go on a train to Canterlot immediately, and have Soarin’ help AJ on the ride there instead?” She beams at Soarin’ hopefully, her pleading eyes persuasive and demanding. He tries to avoid her stare and looks at Rainbow imploringly, silently pleading for her to make the decision.

Rainbow sighs. “We'll see. But don’t forget your priorities, Twi. AJ’s injured. Badly.” Twilight stomps her hooves anxiously, ashamed that she had forgotten Applejack in her excitement, but still eager to rush down to Canterlot. She’s a horrible friend, to be so easily distracted by her own interests that she would neglect Applejack’s well-being, but she’s sure everything, including Applejack’s injury, will be fixed soon— after all, the princesses always know what to do. The very thought of it rejuvenates her dampened elation.

“I know, I know! Hurry, let’s go join the others and tell them the princesses are back. I’m sure they’ve noticed the light too,” Twilight squeals excitedly, flashing one last grin at Rainbow and Soarin’ before expanding her wings and leaping off the clouds.

Perhaps Rainbow Dash should have made Soarin’s restrictions around flight known to Twilight, because the journey down to the ground is agonisingly slow. Twilight repeatedly throws irked glances at the fumbling Soarin’, her piercing glares urging him to fly harder against the hazardous hail— but he can’t.

His ambition led him far within the Wonderbolts, but over time, inhibited his growth. Recurring injuries over the years had rendered his wings frail and weak, but he defiantly flew through his pain. Eventually, his injuries permeated his wings so deeply it was comparable to an innate incapacitation and he had to permanently resign to his medic position.

The group was forced to take several breaks as Soarin’ needed to rest frequently, even with Rainbow carrying Soarin’s bag.

“S-slow down,” Soarin’ panted from atop a stray cloud, his wings bent at odd angles after scrambling through the air. Twilight rolled her eyes.

“Again? Really?” She clicks her tongue impatiently, earning a patient nudge from Rainbow Dash.

“Calm down. We’re not in any rush, Twi.”

“But we are! We need to get help to Applejack and then catch a train to Canterlot!”

Rainbow squints her eyes. “Do you even want to help Applejack, or do you just want to go to Canterlot, Twilight? How are you even so sure the princesses are back?”

Twilight recoils at Rainbow’s remark. “Of course I want to help Applejack! She’s my- my friend! I’m just looking forward to seeing the princesses, and I’m so sure of it because I know. I knew them, and better than you did, might I add!”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

“Drop the formalities. Soarin’, are you okay to fly now?” Twilight asks, changing the subject. Soarin’ lifts his head sluggishly from his spot, pausing before giving a feeble nod. “Then let’s get going.”

She launches out, leading the way. Rainbow shakes her head in exasperation as she promptly follows. Soarin’ practically falls off his cloud as he chases after them, clumsily holding up the back of the line.

Eventually, the rough descent comes to an end, and the three ponies land next to the group attending to Applejack. Soarin’s knees buckle and he slumps to the ground, prompting Fluttershy’s alarmed attention.

“Ah, you’re finally back! Is that the doctor?” She questions Twilight, eyeing the collapsed stallion.

“Yes, yes, that’s him. Don’t mind him, he’s just tired. But I digress. Fluttershy, the three of us saw a spectacle in the sky, and oh! It felt so divine, so powerful! The princesses are back, Fluttershy!” Twilight gushes, her voice full of excitement.

Fluttershy swallows nervously. “Yeah, we saw it too. I feel uneasy... It’s strange, Twi. Are the princesses really back? I’m personally inclined to believe something else is going on.” She mumbles out the last part so as to not assuage Twilight’s hope, and walks over to the medic. She extends her hoof to help him up and guides him to Applejack, who still lies unconscious and immobilised by her swollen abrasion. Rarity is kneeled over, her hoof on Applejack’s forehead.

“Wait, not here!” Twilight calls out, rushing to Fluttershy’s side.

“Not here?” Fluttershy asks, tilting her head in confusion.

“We have to get to Canterlot, the princesses could be here already!” Soarin’ lets out a vexed groan at her protest, dread building in him for the long train ride to the capital.

“Darling, what do you mean? Applejack needs treatment immediately– you aren’t possibly suggesting that we postpone helping her to go on some silly caper?” Rarity asks incredulously, not even bothering to look up from what she’s doing. “Oh, she feels hot. Quick, doctor, does she have a fever? How is she?”

Soarin’ scrutinises Applejack’s situation and releases another long, peeved groan. “She’s looking pretty bad. Sorry Princess Twilight, but we don’t have time to waste.” He shoves his hooves in the first aid bag next to him, pulling out a roll of medical tape, bandages, and gauze. “Okay, these should do the trick for now.”

Twilight gives miffed grumbles at Soarin’s skillful application of the tape and gauze, anxious to get on the train. They’re all treating her as if she doesn’t care, as if she’s some kind of insensitive bitch. Why can’t they understand? The princesses are back, and they’ll fix everything that’s gone wrong. They’re wasting time here when they could already be on their way to bringing Equestria back to its former prosperity. Everything will finally go back to normal and everyone will be happy again.

She imposes her impatience on the group by frequently inquiring if Soarin’s done tending to Applejack, or if everypony is ready to go. After repeatedly being answered with irate stares, she stops asking.

At last, the stallion finishes. Applejack’s hoof is fully covered in tape and bandage and gauze, all blank and white like a canvas left untouched by a hesitant painter. The swelling is significantly decreased, held down by the layers of tape wrapping around her hoof, and her sweaty forehead is obscured by a damp cloth.

Rarity sighs, relief showing in her mannerisms. She slowly eases off of Applejack, and flops on the ground in exhaustion after carefully monitoring her friend’s state for so long. “When do you think she’ll wake, doc?” she mumbles, her hoof over her face.

“I’m not sure. Could be a while. Her body needs rest, expending all that energy to heal. She’ll be fine, though.” Soarin’ replies, also stepping back from the unconscious Applejack.

Despite Twilight’s yearning to go to Canterlot, she’s glad her friend is okay. And now that everyone is ready, the group needs to leave, immediately.

“Okay, everypony. Applejack’s treated and stable. We should go,” she says, her gaze sliding to Soarin’. “Now that you’ve treated Applejack, you don’t need to join us.”

Soarin’ wants to agree with Twilight and head back to his house, wants to hide from whatever the rip in the sky might be or a rocky confrontation with Rainbow Dash, but he’s just as curious as anypony else. He shakes his head.

“No, no. I want to see, too. Plus, I want to make sure Applejack remains stable,” he says, his voice faltering. Why is he doing this, when he could be secure and safe in his home? Oblivious to whatever hell Equestria may descend into? He catches a disgruntled side-eye from Rainbow, but it’s too late to take back his words.

“…Fine. Fluttershy, where’s Pinkie?” Twilight asks, scanning the area around her for a sign of her friend. The air is thick with smog, dense and choking, like a heavy blanket placed uncomfortably on the entire town. It makes Twilight feel claustrophobic and cramped, being in an area so different from the breath of fresh air Cloudsdale offers. She hadn’t even noticed the difference in air quality until she actually visited the airborne city.

“We don’t know specifically, but she should be back soon. She went to help ponies affected by the earthquake.” Fluttershy mutters, her voice a tone off-kilter. Anger.

Twilight grouses fretfully, stamping her hoof on the ground with anxiety. “How soon is soon? We need to leave!”

“Twilight, just be patient, she’ll be back–”

“How can I possibly be patient, Fluttershy? The princesses are waiting!”

“Look, I don’t even know–”

“Do you think we can just meet Pinkie there? Would it be faster? Would it–”

“JUST SHUT UP!” Fluttershy shrieks, a touch of red blossoming in the pale yellow of her complexion. A shrill, embarrassed laugh trails back to her stiffly like an indignant cat and her eyes are saturated with uncertainty, staring blankly at Twilight.

“I’m sorry… goodness, that was unlike me,” she laughs, her voice tinted with an unapologetic air. Twilight sucks in a disgruntled breath at Fluttershy’s temperament, clenching her teeth around a heated comment on her friend’s insincere remorse.

Rarity snorts coldly and flips her frizzled mane, still vehemently clinging to a vaguely styled shape after years of continuous care and treatment. “Don't be so timid, dear. Not like our most precious princess here even cares for our opinions.”

Twilight’s chest tightens at Rarity’s remark. Of course she cares. What is wrong with them? Or is it something wrong with her? She just wants them to listen. But she hasn’t been listening either. No, she’s been doing so much, for them and Equestria. Why can’t they just see that?

“I do care! Maybe it’s you two that don’t care about me! My opinions!” Twilight’s voice is aggrieved, producing a startling response that is jammed with her own insecure projections. Rainbow Dash and Soarin’ watch the scene with uncertainty.

Rarity starts to spew back a sharp retort, the air becoming heavy with echoes of their previous unfinished quarrel, but the atmosphere is postponed as Pinkie bursts in.

She’s panting, and her eyes are darting from one pony to another, assessing the situation. “Um, hi! Did I interrupt something?” Twilight turns to her friend, tenseness seeping out of her. She knows that Pinkie will be on her side.

Fluttershy shrugs awkwardly. “No. We’re getting ready to head to Canterlot. I’m guessing you saw the thing in the sky?”

“Yeah, that was so crazy! I felt weird, my Pinkie sense was totally acting up.”

Twilight lights up, happy that the conversation is steering in the direction of the phenomenon in the sky once again. “It was definitely the princesses, Pinkie! We’re going to Canterlot to welcome them back!”

Something flashes across Pinkie’s face before she reassumes her normal expression. “That’s great, Twi! How’s Applejack, has she recovered enough to go? Did we get the doctor?”

Soarin’ calls out from the sidelines, “Uh, yep, that’d be me. She’s fine, I guess.”

Pinkie cocks her head to the side, her dissatisfaction with his response making her face falter. “What do you mean by ‘I guess’?”

The pegasus shoots a nervous glance at Twilight. “Nope. Nothing. She’s absolutely fine to travel.”

“Oh, okay! Well, while I was over in the town I managed to gather some disaster relief like we hoped! They’re working on helping the colts and fillies down at the grade school right now so they won’t be able to come in for a while, but since AJ is fine now it doesn’t matter.”

Rarity and Rainbow perk up at the mention of the grade school.

“How’s Scootaloo?” Rainbow asks, Soarin’ nodding along to her question.

“And Sweetie Belle?” Rarity interjects.

“They’re doing fine,” — she sucks a breath in through barred teeth— “but I suppose they could be better. I guess everypony could be, considering the circumstances.”

Rarity laughs brusquely; not laughing to poke fun at the situation, but at the hilarity of their misfortune. “I just wish they’d issue evacuation orders, darling. They’ve been holed up in the school as a safety precaution, which is understandable— I’d hate to see the little ones getting hurt. It’s just that some updates would be nice, is all. We certainly haven’t been getting a lot of those recently.” Twilight doesn’t see Rarity glance beseechingly in her direction.

“They haven’t officially issued evacuation orders, but that doesn’t mean we can’t go pick them up! Obviously, the teachers recommend against it, but I think they’d be A-OK letting them come with us! I’m sure Applejack would like to see Apple Bloom when she wakes up, too,” Pinkie suggests, and Rainbow and Rarity nod in agreement instantly.

“That’s a lovely idea, darling!” Rarity says, her words cajoling and thick with passion and excitement. She flutters her eyelashes and shuffles her hooves excitedly, assuaging any possible hesitance. A coaxing little pony.

“It’s settled, then. But…” Pinkie looks at Applejack, her eyes flickering. She’s silent for a while, her thoughts and ideas a disjunction in her mind. She’s not sure how to incorporate Applejack, being unconscious, into their plan, but Rarity speaks up and answers for Pinkie.

“I’m sure Twilight wouldn’t mind staying here with Applejack. In fact, Twi… Won’t you be a dear and take Applejack to the train station? We’ll meet up with you there.” She purrs, the kind words a fragrant smell of flowers and petals over a billowing cloud of malice. Subtle, but ruthless.

“What? But- but- I…” Twilight stammers, squirming uncomfortably in place. Everypony’s eyes are burning into her expectantly, hungry for an answer that will comply with their desires.

“...Okay.” She answers at last, and Rarity smiles, but she wears an expression that’s like she just greedily stuffed her face with food. No longer hungry and salivating for contentness, but grotesquely full like a pig from Twilight’s exasperation.

Fluttershy looks at Twilight wearily. “I’m sorry Twilight, but I also believe this is the best course of action right now. It’ll save time, and we don’t have much of that these days. We’ll be quick, I promise.” Twilight gives a slight inclination of acknowledgement, but unwillingness is painted on her face.

Soarin’, obviously discomforted by the tense conversation, bites his lip and speaks up. “I can stay with the princess. Y’know, make sure Applejack stays stable and all that.”

“You do that,” Rainbow says dismissively. “Let’s just leave already.”

Watching her friends getting ready without her, Twilight feels further from them than ever. Twisting away, she shoves past the pallid stallion awaiting her. With a huff of exertion, she lifts Applejack onto her back as lightly as she can and sets off for the station, Soarin’ at her heels.

Keeping a brisk pace, she pays no mind to the rambling Soarin’ behind her. Her mind is encompassed by whirling thoughts, their presence extorting an undue amount of energy. Am I really the issue? Are my friends right? Am I being biassed?

Twilight pants a little, evidently exhausted from the day’s activities and Applejack’s weight, and Soarin’ quickly hooks his available hoof around Applejack to offer additional support, easing the strenuity of the trek.

“So, as I was saying, we ended up on the same team, and as soon as I saw her, I was head over heels. Couldn’t keep my mind off her. Great how that turned out, huh?” Soarin’ says, getting flustered at the very thought of his old relationship with Rainbow.

“Mm. So, you two actually dated? Is that why you called her Dashie?” Twilight asks, her panting softening to slightly jagged breaths. Her inquiries are more like disingenuous fragments, valueless banter to propel and steer the conversation from the slight squabble beforehand– especially since her thoughts are still demanding serious introspection. What am I doing wrong? Have I been wrong all along? Am I wrong about… about the tear in the sky?

“Yeah, and she was amazing. Whew, you should’ve seen how she crash landed into a garbage can one time and everyone was calling her Rainbow Crash! That was the first time we really…” His voice is just an obnoxious droning in her ear.

Will my friends ever forgive me? Was Applejack just lying to me to make me feel better?

“…And afterwards, she flew in the air and saved my pie during the Great Galloping Gala! It was sick…”

Why am I like this? Why have I created this hell for my friends?

“…Pfft, and that’s how we broke up. A bit rocky, right?” He finishes his story with a dramatic flourish and looks at Twilight for her reaction, but her eyes are glazed over and her mind is elsewhere.

“Princess?” No response.

Applejack’s hard collar bone presses tightly into Twilight’s shoulder, the sharp feeling pushing a contemptuous response from her.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just been thinking a little bit.” Her tone is amiss, the words a fickle ode to her demanding thoughts. “Soarin’, do you think I’m a bad friend?”

The stallion suddenly stops, taken aback by Twilight’s inquiry of his opinion, and she stumbles a little to catch his sudden halt. She shifts Applejack on her back once more with an awkward writhe.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen much,” he says, telling the truth.

“You’ve seen enough.” Also the truth.

“All I know is that you’re a good pony, and you try your best. I’ve seen you in action before the nation went to shit… damn it. I miss that time. We’re almost to the train station, but damn it, things are a fucking mess,” he says, throwing his head back in annoyance.

Twilight blinks, surprised by his commendation of her. Does he really think that? His sentiments seem genuine and from what she knows of him, he wouldn’t have reason to lie to her. Or is he trying to curry favour with her because she’s a princess?

Her train of thought is interrupted by a sickening squelch beneath her hooves. As she momentarily directs her attention to whatever she stepped on, her field of vision is filled with red. Blood.

Bile rises in her throat, her eyes flitting about her surroundings. Splatters of fresh, bright blood cover the path and she spots the flicker of flames and the movement of bodies at their destination ahead.

The screaming crowd pleads for the impeachment of Twilight, their slim bodies squeezed together in a ritualistic circle about a cluster of torches burning passionately with their hatred, and above all, the cultish chanting cultivating their energy.

“Twilight…” Soarin’ utters, but Twilight’s body is stiff and cold against the whirling heat from the flames. Their torrent-like verbiage is an extolment upon her indignity, and the contents of her stomach bubble. She shudders and a rush of vomit leaves her stomach to the alarmed look of Soarin’.

“Princess!” He circles around her, concern etched onto his face. He keeps his voice at an odd volume, a sort of whispering shouting to avoid drawing the attention of the mob.

She pants uneasily, chunks of the vomit she retched up caked in her gums like a sticky piece of bitter tobacco. Applejack is slipping off her back but her head is spinning and she doesn’t know which way to adjust her friend. Soarin’ presses up against her and suddenly the weight of the mare is gone. Terror clutches at Twilight’s heart until she realises that the pegasus merely moved her friend to the ground. He’s saying something to her, but she’s focussed on the crimson blooming into Applejack’s mane, her figure framed by a field of flowering carmine.

The merciless gravity of everything bears dangerously down on every part of her, crushing her eyes and mind and hooves and head and wings and she’s too aware of the blood pumping through her veins and the bones stretching tight against her skin. She gags a few times and vomits once more, the prospect of her failures drilling into her and burning into her skin as a permanent mark of her incompetence.

She sobs, ribbons of spit dribbling down her chin, and Soarin’ just wraps his hoof tightly around her. Her tears sting so badly, and she feels utterly hopeless— how pathetic, her crying only to be consoled by a pony she hardly knows. How pathetic, how damn pathetic, how pathetic, she thinks, scarlet pulsing in her sight.

The dreary chanting intensifies and reaches a climax. Twilight perceives a churning dark energy around the congregation. The torch fires swell and burst against the sky, waves of red and orange and yellow curling around the bodies of the protesters and scorching their flesh. Before Twilight can even gasp, everypony in the crowd is a shrieking mass of flames, a screeching bubble of hatred popping and flickering into Twilight’s soul, and everypony is dead.

Twilight slumps down to the ground, horrified. Horrified at the death that just ensued, horrified by everything that’s ensued up until this point, and especially horrified that she can’t pinpoint the strong smell invading her nose— kerosene, or fuel of some type? The ground is soiled with her vomit, and the smell mixing with the intense fragrance of flammable fluid is overpowering, but she can’t bring herself to get up and encroach on the area ahead of her. Bodies of ponies, once living, breathing, thinking, existing; now nothing more than a charred mess of bones and scorched ash. A burnt remnant of what they once were.

Soarin’ gently lifts Applejack from the ground, and he shrinks down next to Twilight. His complexion is pale, and he is trembling slightly, but his face is unremarkable. He sighs, exhaling a sharp rattling noise, and wraps his hoof around Twilight’s tightly.

“We need to go, Princess.” He coos, his voice a soft murmur. Twilight’s eyes are still stuck on the fire, rimmed with red and glistening with streaks of wine red and orange.

“W-what was that? Who were they?”

Soarin’ pauses before answering cautiously, “They’re a group opposing your rule of Equestria with occult rituals and propaganda. You haven’t officially taken the throne yet, and they want to make sure it stays that way.”

“My-my friends, they’ve all talked about the riots. I never knew…” Her soft voice fades out, but the voice inside her head is an alarm blaring, screaming at her. You naive bitch. How could you be so ignorant?

Soarin’ looks lost, unsure of how to comfort her. Silently watching her anguished rumination, he eventually voices flatly, “It’s time to go, princess. Train’s leaving soon.”

The train ride is reticent, and Twilight sits alone. Her friends’ laughter echoes in her ears, the noise dipping down and then increasing again at each drab attempt at inciting conversation. She sees their silhouettes through the small, tinted window of her carriage door, each fluctuation in joy enticing her, urging her to join them. Instead, she sighs and closes the blinds, shutting her eyes to the dwindling seeping of light.

In the other compartment, Rainbow is laughing and ruffling Scootaloo’s hair with her hoof. The small pegasus is playfully miming Rainbow’s aerobatic tricks, spewing coy laughter and exaggeratedly imitating her Sonic Rainboom. Rarity is reclining lavishly on the train’s seat, her mane being brushed gently by Sweetie Belle, the filly withholding laughs at Scootaloo’s fruitless antics for the sake of her sister’s hair. Apple Bloom is mimicking Applejack’s countryisms to further lighten the mood, pivoting around her older sister.

“Oh my, this is the most fun I’ve had in ages!” Rarity chimes, her frilly mane curling lusciously around the bristles of the hairbrush. “I’m glad Twilight isn’t here to… dampen the mood.”

“Oh, Rarity, isn’t that a bit harsh?” Fluttershy says, giggling at Scootaloo’s performance.

“Not at all, darling. I mean, she’s been a bit cynical these days, hasn’t she? Perhaps I’ve been a little sour, but it’s well-deserved. My boutique, my haven, has shut down and she hasn’t done anything about it! Hmph!” She crosses her hooves dramatically.

“She hasn’t done much about my sanctuary either… she’s said she’s been busy, but…” Fluttershy’s soft voice trails off, but not before she subtly scoffs in disbelief. Rarity mimics her gesture in a much more overt tone.

“Oh, yes, so busy. I would be tired too if I had to sit in a castle in Canterlot all day! The horror!”

Pinkie throws an irked expression at Rarity and shakes her head disapprovingly.

“Let’s not be rude now, girls. She’s been through a lot.”

“A lot!? A lot of hooficures, maybe. She’s a princess, darling, she’s definitely been fine.” Rarity says, the disdain in her voice obvious, not bothering to mask her contempt. “We toiled day after day to keep Equestria running and she didn’t even lend a hoof to help. Pinkie dearest, I understand where you’re coming from, but at this point, she’s just too much. I just want to get this little excursion of hers done and get back to work.”

Pinkie’s reply is cut off by a faint groan from Applejack.

“Ugh… Where am I?” The mare’s words are slightly slurred and shaky, her blinking eyes fringed with a persistent exhaustion.

Pinkie gasps excitedly and all the girls immediately crowd around her, peppering her with relieved acclamations among a flurry of wild explanations. Applejack stares blankly at the group, squinting slightly as if she’s unsure if she’s dreaming or not. In the midst of the chaotic chatter, Soarin’ shoves his way through the group with a first aid kit by his side and kneels down in front of Applejack. He doesn’t bother to give Rainbow Dash an apology for elbowing her, instead clearing his throat and addressing Applejack’s confusion.

“Your hoof got caught under a stray piece of debris after the earthquake and you got pretty badly hurt– ended up passing out,” he states casually, rousing a memory out of Applejack. Her brows furrow in disdainful understanding, clearly dissatisfied with the surfacing of such an unpleasant memory. “If it’s okay, I’m just going to perform a quick checkup on you. I don’t want anything bad to happen again, after all.”

Apple Jack nods her head in agreement but feels clouded by dissent— like a filly listening to a school teacher and being unable to refute because she doesn’t know. Instead of trying, she looks around the train as Soarin’ compresses her hoof with a blood pressure cuff. Curiosity gnaws at her. “Why’re we on a train?”

“We’re goin’ upta Canterlot, AJ!” Apple Bloom squeals happily.

“What in tarnation? Canterlot? And… and what are you fillies doing here?” Applejack stammers, but Rainbow happily explains the current circumstances to her. She takes some time to process everything, closing her eyes in deep thought as Soarin’ continues to examine her carefully. After a long pause, she slowly says, “Do y’all really think the princesses are back?”

“Of course not, darling,” Rarity sneers. “She’s just being delusional, hoping Princess Celestia and Luna will come and clean up her messes for her like always.”

Applejack looks perturbed by Rarity’s perverse commentary, a criticism of her harshness already forming in Applejack’s mind. Right as the shape of her mouth forms to spew the first harsh words, a dissonant train whistle sounds, signalling their arrival at the capital.

Fluttershy shoots a concerned glance at Rarity before rounding up the fillies, the impression of her harsh words lingering in the air. The conversation is not over. Rainbow follows hoof and Rarity sashays out, contempt twisting her usual sass. Soarin’ wraps a hoof around Applejack and carefully guides her out of the compartment and into the station, ensuring a cautious step so as to not hurt her. Only Pinkie is left. She stands alone in the empty carriage, watching the others leave before turning to retrieve Twilight.

Twilight is sleeping quietly, evidently having dozed off in her contemplations. The air around her is still and dust particles linger in the air, curling pools of warm light that seep in from the swinging curtains. Pinkie stands above her for a moment before shaking her softly. Twilight’s eyes flutter open slowly, blinking gradually and adjusting to the warm light.

“Pinkie… did we make it?” She asks before a yawn escapes from her mouth. Pinkie nods.

“Come on, Twi. I think there’s somepony you’d like to see.” She extends a hoof to Twilight and the alicorn begrudgingly takes it, the exhaustion from her rocky sleep still evident. The two exit her compartment and depart from the train with Twilight groaning in retaliation at the bright light and shielding her eyes.

She shudders at the utter rawness and divinity of Canterlot, its beauty unrealistic and unattainable to the regular ponies of Equestria. How odd it is that she spent most of her life here and didn’t even acknowledge the architectural prowess of the city— the luscious, green grass that chases curving flowers of every variety against the backdrop of a vibrant blue sky; or the colourful stained glass from the castle, a glorious monument of Equestria’s rich history, refracting multicoloured rays onto ponies with prestige and status. Normalcy to her, but naive dreams to anypony else.

“Twilight, there ya are!” A voice calls, gauging her interest once more. Twilight turns her head and gasps.

“You’re awake!” she shrieks with delight, her previous thoughts immediately wiped from her mind. “I’m so glad you’re awake. I’ve missed you so much.” She embraces Applejack in a tight hug, only slightly releasing her grip when Applejack gives a slight groan.

“A few apples short of a bushel sugarcube, but it could be worse,” Applejack replies with a sly grin. She hugs Twilight back, and the two stay silent like that for a moment. Applejack eventually breaks the silence. “Ahem. I heard we’re in Canterlot to see the princesses?”

“Oh, yes, yes!” Twilight shakes her head excitedly and pulls back, grabbing Applejack by the hoof. She leads her into the luscious field preceding the kingdom, the group trailing closely behind.

Stepping into the soft grass, the group takes in the city. The castle stretches tall into the sky, succulent green vines winding around glistening stained glass windows reflecting beams of radiant light with its multifaceted surfaces. The rip in the sky is just a glamorous silhouette of the castle, amplifying its build and shrouding it in a spiritual veil. Surges of power emanate from the tear, reminding Twilight once more of why she is here; the princesses. Of course, she thinks, that’s why the city is so untouched. The princesses have protected it!

Her eyes are filled with wonder and delight, soft colours spiralling in the damp purple of her eye. Soarin’ has to tap her a few times to break her from her trance, moving her attention to the group of guards walking egregiously toward them. The leader is wobbling more significantly than the others, making the walk down a linear path seem extortionately tedious.

“Princesssss T-Twilighttttt, welcome backkkk tooo… uh… Canterlott,” he stammers with mild belligerence, his glazed eyes an embellishment to his tipsy demeanor. Twilight recoils at the smell of alcohol on his breath, the repulsive smell sloppily mixed with a thick layer of cologne. Twilight has to prevent herself from gagging.

“Greetings, Acting Captain Lock. What is with your… inebriated state?”

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm… yeah,” he replies stoutly. He rethinks his words befuddledly, adjusting his answer. “It’s beeen tough… yeeeah, tough times.”

Twilight feels her eye twitch. “Well, Acting Captain, would you be able to inform me of the current situation of Canterlot?” Have they seen the princesses?

“We uhhh… we issued e-evac-eva-evacuation orderrrs… to the reeesidentss… and uhh… we’ve also been… mmm, patrolling… yeeahhh.” A few guards snicker behind him at the mention of patrolling.

So they don’t have any news on the princesses. Twilight flicks her ear impatiently. “We’ll be travelling to the source of the earthquakes. I have reason to believe that the princesses have returned.”

“Princess, we-we dun recommmendd—”

“With all due respect, guards, these matters do not concern you. Please do not block our way,” Twilight snaps, stalking forward with fierce determination. The guards drunkenly stumble out of the way, and Twilight presses forward. Rarity shoots a menacing glare at the guards as the group follows, walking at a slower pace to accommodate Applejack.

Twilight finds herself constantly rushing ahead and then stopping to wait for the rest to catch up, tapping her hoof irritably. She feels the steady pulsing of magic from the castle calling to her, writhing and stretching against its constraints. Begging to be released. Even so, she can't help noticing the oddities infecting the power-- the subtle unnaturalness warping its being, or the state of unfamiliarity infecting the aura. What if something went wrong with the princess' arrival? What if they were injured when they returned? Maybe that’s why they haven’t revealed themselves yet. What if it’s because of something she did? The possibilities are endless.

The clopping of hoofsteps come to a standstill as they stand before Canterlot Castle, and so do Twilight's thoughts. She gulps as she looks upon the castle. She feels herself shaking, her newfound determination seeping out into the pores of the dirt beneath her hooves. How annoying it is to still feel conflicted after everything she's put herself and her friends through, but she can't help it. Indecisiveness has embraced her since she was a filly. Standing here now, the familiar diffidence bleeds out, wrapping around her body and clogging up her heart.

They’re so close now to the source of the magic waves that she can taste it. It’s like a thick and heavy viscous syrup in her mouth, swishing back and forth with peculiar distinctiveness. It’s unlike what she had seen in all her years studying under Celestia. Perhaps what she’s feeling is true alicorn magic, cultivated over hundreds of years of experience.

Inhaling a deep breath to steady herself, she takes the lead again and pushes open the massive doors, entering the majestic hall. Instantly, she’s engulfed by a sea of energy, crests and tides of intensity rolling around her. For a moment, there's a dull buzzing in her ears, and she finds herself shaking her head aggressively. Rarity is doing the same, as if the two are warding off some infectious liquid oozing into their minds.

Finally, the buzzing stops. Twilight blinks slowly, and the group continues forward until they reach the throne room, the epitome of the essence. There’s a glow, albeit muted, radiating through the doors. Twilight looks back on her friends, waiting for an unsaid confirmation. Not a word is spoken, not even a snarky comment from Rarity. They all nod and Twilight propels the doors open.

They’re immediately blinded by the dazzling glare of illumination, the magic so powerful it burns. Her skin is scalding and there’s a rumbling in her ears as a storm floods past her. She’s gasping for air and she barely notices her legs faltering as she slides to the floor.

Their presence seems to break whatever spell was being suspended as the brightness begins to fade into a manageable brilliance. Twilight slowly cracks an eye open, peeking through the gleaming light.

A few golden figures stride forward, their hoofsteps booming through the arcuated throne room. The largest stops before her, arrogant strength oppressing her.

His aura is alien, pure might bearing down on her unlike any she knows. It is the unadulterated peak of potency, ancient dynamism incomprehensible to her. Besides the overpowering aura, his figure is unfathomable— a cross between a pony and something completely unfamiliar. The lower half of his stature resembles that of a stallion, but it fades into something entirely new from that point upward. His face seems scrawny against the muscular physique of the rest of his body, his snout uncomfortably scrunching into a tiny point on his compressed face. His lengthy mane sways extravagantly next to an additional pair of hooves extending from his upper torso, each distinct nub replaced by slender pieces of flesh. Twilight feels the blood draining from her face.

“Are you the ruler of this land?” His voice booms loftily.

These are not princesses. These are gods.