28
Equinox
"Once again," Princess Luna proclaimed, "I commend you all greatly on your valiant service to Equestria, and I thank you for your devotion and sacrifice. I shall see you all home soon. And, to all you new Equestrian citizens, I hope we can together build a more peaceful and harmonious nation and never again witness conflict between us. I bid you farewell." She bowed her head to thunderous applause from pegasi and griffons alike.
Earlier that day, after conversing with an older, more sensible dragon, Luna had commanded all of the dragons to return to their home, and that they were to send Ember to Equestria as soon as possible without trouble. Because she wielded the Dragon Scepter, they all complied, some rather bitterly, and they quickly flew south. Luna kept the Scepter with her with the intent to return it to the rightful Dragon Lord when they finally met.
Luna bowed one more time to the crowd and turned to the two dozen royal guards behind her. Nodding to them, she took off, flying gracefully westward. The royal guards followed suit, and they all soon vanished beyond the horizon.
After the crowd dispersed and having not seen them anywhere, Rainbow and Soarin' searched for Gilda and Greta. After checking what they initially thought to be an abandoned street, they saw two griffons sitting in front of a house, one strumming a guitar. Rainbow was about to continue on when she recognized Gilda's and Greta's silhouettes. She motioned Soarin' to be quiet and stop. Squinting in the dark, Rainbow realized with a pang of sadness the house they were front of was Gilda's home. A disjointed but melancholy tune echoed through the air. The two pegasi couldn't help but stand and listen to it.
Whenever she would mess up, Gilda would stop and keep trying the same few notes over and over again, and Rainbow could faintly hear her muttering to herself. Greta would whisper something, and Gilda would nod and try again. Rainbow and Soarin' slowly walked over, startling the two somewhat when they got near. The pegasi didn't say anything; they just sat down next to the griffons. Gilda half-smiled, and she continued to learn how to play the guitar.
Rainbow looked around herself while she listened. She hadn't noticed before, but much of Griffonstone, save the rebuilt capital building and a few other governmental buildings, still looked the same as when she had last been there with Pinkie. Everything was still in disrepair. Many of the houses and businesses still sat dilapidated. The library somehow looked even worse than it did before. Debris and garbage littered the streets and alleys, along with a few bloodstains here and there. Statues of the past kings of Griffonstone had eroded away further, the notable being exception a pristine marble statue of Gale at the bottom of the capital building's steps.
Rainbow shook her head. Even with all of that plundered gold, Gale didn't seem to spend a single bit on the citizens. What a waste. How did they put up with him? Were they that afraid of him, of his power over them? Surely they would not have been content living in squalor. How was the average griffon's life here under his rule? When all of the fit were sent off to die and the war only worsened, what did those who remained do? Waited? Hoped? What for? Did they think Gale would win? Did they think Equestria would wipe them out?
A discordant note pulled Rainbow from her thoughts. "Damn it," Gilda muttered, silencing the strings and groaning.
"You'll get the hang of it," Greta reassured.
"You're a million times better than what I could ever do," said Rainbow.
Gilda scoffed. "Thanks."
"Are you two going to stay here?" Soarin' asked.
"Yeah," Greta said. "Well, for now at least."
"What?" Rainbow asked. "Why? I thought you hated this place."
"Well," Gilda said, "we've been thinking. Remember when you and Pinkie came here, and you wanted me to spread friendship here when you left?" She chuckled nervously. "Huh. Guess I didn't do too good of a job."
"Both our faults," added Greta weakly with a shrug.
Gilda waved at the air with a claw. "Anyway, we think Griffonstone needs some of that friendship now more than ever. In a way, this is the best time for it. Dunno how many griffons would've listened to us before."
"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Rainbow asked.
Gilda nodded. "Yeah."
"Oh, hell!" Soarin' blurted, hopping into the air. "Thunderhead's leaving!" Rainbow looked up where he was pointing. Sure enough, the cloud behemoth was already about a mile from the coast and slowly lumbering to the west.
"C'mon, Dash!" he said, flying towards it. "Let's go! Oh!" He stopped and quickly waved below. "Bye, Gilda and Greta!" The two waved back, and he zipped off towards the departing cloud.
"Well..." Rainbow stood to leave. "I guess I'll... see you two around. Goodbye." She paused for a moment, but Gilda said nothing. Rainbow sighed and began to fly away.
"Hey," Gilda said. "Wait." Rainbow stopped and looked at her, her head turned slightly. Gilda stared at Rainbow, seemingly evaluating her, and then sighed. "A-about... Gwen."
Rainbow flinched and looked down, landing softly. "I... I'm so sorry, Gilda. I didn't—"
"It's fine," Gilda interrupted, holding up a claw. "I just wanted to say that..." She took a deep breath. "I forgive you."
Rainbow stared at Gilda and stood nonplussed. "You... what?"
"I said I forgive you," Gilda repeated quietly, setting down the guitar and standing up. "Gwen, she... she wasn't doing the right thing, a-and she was trying to kill you too, so I mean... I understand what you had to do. I wish that it wasn't my sister, but I can't change that. It was her choice, I guess, so... I can't blame you." Gilda's eyes glistened. "No. I shouldn't have blamed you. I know no one in their right mind just kills someone, especially you, and I know that if you knew who she was, or if it could've happened any other way, you wouldn't have killed her. War just... it just... sucks."
She looked away from Rainbow, wiping her eyes. "When you told me the truth, about what happened that night, I was so filled with... hate. I-I couldn't..." She took a shaky breath. "I needed some time, but that wasn't fair to you. You already had that noose around your neck for months, and all I did was tighten it. A-and then, you found Greta. You brought her back to me. I-I didn't think I'd ever see her again. I didn't know w-what to think of you then."
She struggled for words for a few moments before sighing and continuing quietly. "I'm sorry. I'm... so sorry. I'm sorry for being so terrible to you and being stubborn about it all, a-and I'm sorry for not listening to you. I'm sorry I wasn't a friend at all to you." She sniffed. "Again." She looked back at Rainbow, who was herself on the verge of tears. "Can we... Can we start over? Can you forgive me?"
Rainbow smiled and flew over to Gilda, hugging her. "Yes. Yes, I forgive you. And thank you, thank you for forgiving me."
Gilda sniffed. "I'm gonna miss you, you big dweeb."
Rainbow laughed. "Same here."
Ember was fortunate that the Equestrian Air Force at the coastline recognized her as the Dragon Lord. Once she expressed the direness of her situation, a handful of pegasi escorted her to Princess Twilight's castle with haste. Ember's wings already felt as though they were about to pop off with the trek across the ocean, but now she had to consciously think of not simply quitting midair. They flew through the night mostly in silence. Ember dreaded how much destruction the dragons had caused already, and she hated herself for so easily breaking.
They finally arrived in Ponyville when the sky in the east was starting to lighten. Two guards at the castle's front door noticed them and watched with wary eyes. Ember collapsed onto the ground, panting. The pegasi quickly helped her up, walking with her to the guards. She stood on her own, wobbling slightly.
"I need... I need to talk to Princess... Princess Twilight."
The two guards looked at one another and scoffed. "No can do," one said.
"No, no, no, listen." Ember walked to them, stumbling a bit. "I need to talk to her. I'm the Dragon Lord, Ember. My scepter was stolen from me, and—"
"I know I'm interrupting what was probably a well-rehearsed story," said the other guard, "but the Princess wouldn't even be awake at this hour, much less have a meeting with you."
The first guard pointed at Ember and looked at the pegasi behind her. "Did you put her up to this? I know the war's over, but pulling a stunt like this—"
"No!" yelled Ember. "You don't understand! I have to talk with Princess Twilight! There are dragons on the way!"
"Would you idiots stop stalling?" one pegasus yelled at the guards. "She's telling the truth!"
"Oh, what," the guard retorted, "I'm just supposed to step aside now?"
"It'd be the smart thing to do," another pegasus said. "We're wasting time here!"
"I oughta—" began the other guard, but from behind, the doors opened slightly. Spike poked his head outside, yawning. He was no longer glowing.
"What's going on?" he asked sleepily.
"Our apologies," the guard said, bowing slightly. "We were just about—"
"Ember?" Spike walked outside, his expression now one of open worry. "What are you doing here?"
"You can't be serious."
They were in the map room. Twilight, who sat in her chair, stared at Ember, shaking her head slightly. Ember, sitting in Rarity's, nodded earnestly, not saying a word.
"This is bad," Twilight said, a hoof holding her stomach. "O-oh, this is bad."
"What do we do?" Spike said, standing from his chair and looking between the two. "We have to do something." Neither responded. "We have to do something!" he reiterated, getting frustrated. "Luna's over there! We can't just sit here and—"
"I know, Spike!" Twilight snapped. She wiped a tear from her eye. "I-I just don't know what."
"You have nothing to fight them with?" Ember asked in a defeated tone.
"N-no. One full-sized dragon is bad enough. Hundreds?" Twilight hung her head. "I feel like I'm going to be sick." She looked back at Ember. "And you're sure the amulet looked like an alicorn?" Ember simply nodded, and Twilight again looked down, murmuring quietly.
"Uh, Twilight?" said Spike, tapping her shoulder. "Is it me, or did the room suddenly get brighter?"
"What?" Twilight looked up, blinking away tears. "What are you talking about?"
"It looks like someone raised the sun."
"Huh?" Twilight looked at the orange sunbeams shining through the windows, stunned. "The sun? I didn't raise the sun. How is that—"
A guard burst into the room, startling the three. About to speak, he recoiled, clearing his throat. "I apologize. Princess Luna has returned."
"She's—" Twilight's eyes widened. She looked between Ember and Spike, each wearing a stunned look as well, and then looked back to the guard. "What?"
"She returned just a few minutes ago and raised the sun. We didn't know where you ran off to, so she sent us out through the castle. She needs to talk with you right away. She says she's utterly exhausted."
"Is she alright?" Spike asked nervously.
The guard nodded. "She has an odd-looking scepter with her, too."
"Is it made of blue crystal," said Ember, standing up, "with a large red gem at the top?"
"Yes, actually," said the guard. He titled his head to the side. "Is it yours?"
Ember looked at Twilight with a wide grin. Twilight started laughing in relief.
After returning the Dragon Scepter to Ember, enduring a barrage of questions from Twilight, and sleeping through most of the rest of the day, Luna decided she would pay a visit to a certain cherry tree. She arrived at Canterlot when the volunteers who were still working on the city's restoration had just retired for the evening. Luna kept her altitude just above the streets as to not draw unnecessary attention to herself, slowly making her way towards the small garden in the southern part of the city.
She couldn't help but feel happy. The streets were alive again. Ponies went about their business as they had done before the war. Colts and fillies happily ran and played around without fear. Though some buildings still bore the scars and burns of the attack, most were as pristine as they were before. The smell of oil still lingered in certain parts of the city, but it was finally fading away.
Luna made her way closer to the city's edge, and through a small archway, she found the park with Celestia's tree. Though it was mid-September, the soft pink blossoms still adorned the branches. She landed and walked over to it in reverent awe, passing from grey cobblestone to white flagstones. The grass here was impeccably short, soft, and a deep green. Small patches of roses and white alyssums lined the edges of the park, and their soft aroma filled the air. Luna stopped short of the tree's trunk, looking at the white stone before it. A small gold sun was engraved into the surface, and below it was a gold inscription:
Princess Celestia
Honored Leader • Revered Teacher • Beloved Sister
Luna lied down in front of the humble headstone. She gazed at the tree, letting the pleasant fragrance of her surroundings fill her lungs. Sunlight flitted between the blossoms and branches. Petals fell intermittently, catching a beam or two of the sun before fluttering down below the cliff. It was the first time she felt truly at peace since...
"It is finished," Luna said finally. "Finished. It is hard to believe it is actually over. All these months. It is almost... strange." She laughed lightly. "Canst thou believe it, Tia? Thinking normality to be strange. It is as if... as if everything in the past few months had momentum and wanted to keep going but suddenly stopped, and I was thrown forward. That had become the new normal, the new routine, and going back to what once was seems..."
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Though, I suppose nothing can truly be normal again. Much was stolen from us, and much cannot be restored. So many are gone now. How could things ever return to normal?" She glanced at the tree, and a falling petal caught her eye. She followed it down until it passed below the cliff. She looked back up at the tree. "I suppose all we can do is go forward. Wherever that leads us."
She gathered a small pile of petals with her magic and spun them in a gentle breeze, scattering them around her and the white stone. She held onto one petal and idly spun it, examining it. "What now?" she asked. "What do we do? What do I do?" She let go of the petal, letting it flutter softly onto the stone. "What didst thou do, Tia? How didst thou lead after I had gone?"
She rested her head on her crossed hooves. "Thou toldest me it was peaceful. Thou toldest me everything was alright with Equestria, that I had done no lasting harm. But thou didst not tell me what you did. I know it must have been difficult, even for thee, to lead alone." She stretched out her wings and looked at a blossom before her. "How didst... how didst thou cope?" She levitated the blossom and slowly spun it. "Thou couldst not visit me. Thou hadst a populace who rejoiced whilst thou didst sorrow. Thou wert alone, truly alone, maybe more so than I was then." She sighed wistfully. "I am still sorry, Tia. I know thou forgavest me."
She shook her head, dropping the blossom. "And what of Sombra? What more could I have done for him? I tried to be like thee in consoling him, but it did not work." She closed her eyes. "Though, perhaps, redemption is a two-way street. I sought thy forgiveness, and thou gavest me it. Sombra thought himself beyond mercy despite my efforts, and he took matters in his own hooves. A small part of me feels responsible for his soul's destruction, that I somehow could have done more for him, but I know it was ultimately his choice." She rested her head on the grass. "I hope, somehow, his soul was not destroyed but instead was saved. I hope he is there with thee, and thou forgavest him. He repaid for all he had done with his very soul; what more could he have done to be penitent?"
She looked back at the tree, letting the smells of it and the flowers nearby fill her lungs. It was no use to become melancholy again. "What art thou doing there? Dost thou raise the sun there? It was night when I visited." She sat, her imagination spinning up. "Or... or perhaps there is no sun. Maybe the stars and crystals give all the light you need. But thou must have a sun there. Ponies need day just as much as night, not just for light, but for warmth, too. Then again, there was no moon, either, and I remember feeling warm there regardless." She chuckled softly. "I should have asked thee when I was with thee." She looked at the blue and pink sky. "Maybe thou art flying far off, visiting those distant islands. Who lives there? How many islands and ponies are there? What does one do there?"
She looked at the headstone again. Her reverie faded away, and she laid back down. "It is not fair. All those years. We should have been together." She stretched out her wings and settled herself. "We had lived together for only a moment, then, for a thousand years, apart. We finally reunited, but again for only a moment. At least this time will not be permanent either." She slowly closed her eyes, sniffing. "But how long will it be now? When can I see thee again? Another thousand years? Two thousand? Ten...?"
She lied in silence for a time, pondering. Stars started peppering the sky, and she toyed with them, creating ripples and flows. The warmth of the sun slowly began to fade away, and she knew she would have to do her duties soon. She stopped and looked at the tree again. "What if it is forever? I..." She could feel her heart beating softly, and she was close to cursing it. "I know not if I can wait that long. That millennium, I... I was unable to grieve. I was intoxicated. All the feeling I had was hatred." She winced slightly. "Those years were bitter. Terrible. But at least I felt neither sorrow nor pain." She sighed. "Now I do not have that luxury. The first few months after thou wert gone were so difficult, so very difficult. I... I could not function properly. Every waking moment was regret, every breath was stolen from thee, every..."
Memories came back to her subtly, as though somepony had snuck stills into a slideshow. "Thou spakest to me about this already. Thou knowest what I felt. Thou forgavest me, and I you, but... Didst thou forgive thyself?" She stared down at her hooves. "I know not if I can. Perhaps thou wert able to, after all that time thou hadst alone. Perhaps not." She closed her eyes and huffed. "I need to stop." She rubbed her eyes. "I will not get anywhere thinking like this." She looked up at the tree again and spoke soflty. "I am sorry, Tia. I am trying, I really am."
Glancing at the orange-tipped branches and blossoms, she stood up, stretching. "Well, I suppose it is time then, hm?" She looked down at the headstone and breathed deeply. She walked over to one side of the tree and lit her horn. She closed her eyes and bowed, guiding the sun below the horizon. When the last of the sun's warmth slipped away, a different kind of warmth comforted her. It felt as though it came from within her own chest, within herself, but she knew it wasn't her. She smiled. Before she could walk to the other side of the tree, she realized the night would have a new moon. "Just like before," she said softly. Her horn lit up as she coaxed it from its hiding spot and placed it in the violet sky. The stars seemed to twinkle their approval and grew brighter.
She walked back to her spot and laid down again. The white headstone gleamed in the dark, casting tiny dancing shadows in the grass, on the tree and petals, and on her face and hair. She stared at it, caught up in solemn awe. The enchantment on the headstone itself was quite simple, but the effect it had was surreal. She shifted her gaze to the sky above, then to the grass and white stone, then to the tree. "Our own little Elysium," she whispered.
The warmth billowed within her chest, and she rested her head on the ground, letting a stray tear or two fall. "I will try, sister. No matter how long it shall be, I will try." She closed her eyes, sniffing. "I will try to forgive myself. To love myself. To move on. To live." She smiled. "Happily." The sounds of the world seemed to have vanished. All Luna could hear was her own soft breathing and an occasional breeze rustling the grass and blossoms. "Our own little Elysium," she said again softly.
