7

Wake

Everypony who was able to walk assembled themselves to a grassy park in an area of Canterlot untouched by fire. At its edge, overlooking Ponyville and the rest of southern Equestria, stood a towering cherry tree in full bloom, its pink petals tumbling off the cliff. At the base of the tree, a small white headstone rested in front of fresh dark dirt. Between the tree and the crowd stood Luna, Twilight, and her friends, all before a lone podium. The park wasn't big enough to accommodate all present, so many stuck their heads out of windows and piled into the streets nearby. Everypony had their heads down in silence, save for those quietly weeping.

Twilight looked up and nudged Luna, who nodded and shakily rose on three legs. Some in the front saw and silently got the attention of others. Luna limped around to the west side of the tree, unable to look up. She lit her horn and lowered the sun, using what was left of her will not to break down. Most of the crowd now watched her, as did Twilight and her friends. Luna felt the sunlight's warmth fade away, and a small yelp escaped her lips. She hesitantly opened her eyes and saw only an orange band behind the mountains.

She put her head down again and hobbled to the other side of the tree. She glanced at the crowd, unsurprised they were watching. She lit her horn and raised a black moon. It was nothing more than a void of stars to her now, not that she had the heart to look at it anyway. Many in the audience somberly looked downwards again as Luna staggered to the front and sat with the others.

Spike opened his eyes and nodded at Twilight, motioning her to the podium. She looked at Luna and the others. An extra chair sat between Applejack and Pinkie, and Twilight flinched. She took a shaky breath and walked to the podium. She cleared her throat, cast a spell on her voice to amplify it, and scanned the crowd. They were frightened, scared, and exhausted. The smell of soot and ash still hung over the city. Twilight sighed and finally spoke.

"Thank you for your reverence." She took a deep breath. Luna noticed Twilight didn't have any notecards with her again. "We have all lost today." The crowd somehow grew even quieter. "In the short span of a few hours, thieves have come and taken from us all. We have all been hurt today. We have all witnessed horrors we dared not imagine. We have all..." She looked down. "Lost. Not just here in Canterlot, but all across Equestria. We have lost our security. Our innocence. Our peace of mind. Our naïveté.

"But," she looked back at the crowd, "there is one thing we haven't lost: hope. That is the one thing they cannot take without us giving it up: hope. Hope that from these ruins and ashen walls we will rise and become strong. Hope that from our sorrows and our grief we will find joy and happiness once more. Hope that those who now lay to rest will find peace. Hope that those who forced their will against us will answer to justice." She paused and scanned the crowd again. "Hope that we will prevail. Keep hope close to your hearts."

Luna lowered her head. What hope? Her left hoof smarted, and she pulled it closer to herself. What good is hope? She had hoped ponies would love her all those years ago. She had hoped her sister would understand her. She had hoped she could come back home. She hoped and hoped and hoped until her heart gave out. She grew to despise the word over the millennium of isolation.

What hope? She had hoped her sister would be okay. She had hoped her nightmare was just that. She had hoped the fire would be quelled and that nopony had died. She had hoped her sister would still be here. She had hoped never to see her sister's face contorted into fear, to see her sister lie dead in front of her. She had hoped never to run away, to be a coward. She had hoped never to be alone again.

What hope?

She could feel her upper lip begin to tremble, and she fought to keep a straight face. The last thing the ponies needed was to see their leader weak. That's why she didn't allow herself to speak to them. They needed to cling onto whatever shred of "hope" they had left. She wouldn't help them any by crying. Besides, she reasoned, the others have already talked to the ponies, have already said to them what she would have said. She raised the moon and set the sun. She had done her job.

She flattened her ears. No. Her job was much more than that, so much more. She never should have ran. The memory of the previous night left a sour taste in her mouth and a pit of lead in her heart. She found it harder and harder to deny her sister's death wasn't her fault. There were so many things she could have done. She kept asking herself why she didn't do anything. If only she wasn't wrapped up in her own problems, if only she had stayed and fought, if only she had been doing her job, if only she hadn't been a coward, if only she had done a million other things...

Her leg pained again, and hatred flared in her heart for herself. She deserved more than this, more than a broken leg and a few gashes. She should be dead, not her sister. She didn't even think about her sister until she was safe herself. She hated the idea of herself more than the griffons. They hadn't killed her sister. She did. She knew she did.

Luna opened her eyes when she no longer heard Twilight speaking. She looked and saw Twilight staring off at something. For a moment, Luna feared it to be more griffons. She scanned the skies, but to her relief, found nothing. She looked back at Twilight and tried to follow her eyes. She found herself tracking a small white speck fluttering down. Twilight held out a wing towards the speck, and Luna could feel something was wrong. The crowd murmured as more and more of them also found the speck.

As it drew nearer, Luna saw it was a snowflake. In an instant, she knew who it was from. She watched as Twilight caught it and hastily unfolded it. Twilight gasped, tensing up. She stood rigid for a few moments, simply staring at the snowflake. Luna made to stand up, but Twilight cleared her throat. She began to shake, setting the note down on the podium.

"I-I-I have just received wor..." She braced herself on the podium, her breath shuddering. Luna looked down, now assured of what it said. She looked up as Twilight continued. "I-I have just received word the Crystal Empire was attacked, and..." Twilight grimaced and stared at the podium, taking shaky breaths. "The Crystal Heart is gone." Tears overflowed onto her cheeks, but she didn't utter a sound. Luna could tell there was something else, and she again went to stand up, but Twilight looked to the crowd. Her voice broke in a small cry, and she teleported away

Her friends looked at each other worriedly. The crowd stood stunned, and Luna sighed, getting up and walking to the podium. She cleared her throat, gaining the attention of a few in front, but she didn't know what to say. Most of the crowd now turned to her, looking lost and scared.

She spoke in a somewhat dampened Canterlot voice. "I think it best you all go home now." With a wave of a wing, she bid them leave. The crowd stood for a while, a new sense of confusion and shock washing over them, but they slowly dispersed, talking in low voices. Luna looked down, trying to piece together where the others said Twilight was. Her eyes passed over the snowflake note, and she flinched at the first word.

Celestia

Griffons attacked. Heart gone.

Shining dead. Help.

Cadence

Luna closed her eyes and shook her head, inwardly groaning. The Frozen North had surely retaken the Crystal Empire by now. She took the note, slowly folded it back into a snowflake, and held it aloft in front of her. "We will get the Crystal Heart back," she whispered to it. "I promise you."

In the few remaining clouds above Canterlot were the Wonderbolts. Tasked with guarding the funeral, they remained unseen by the public. Soarin' stood up, their mission technically a success. The other Wonderbolts stood too, most gloomily speaking to each other about the news.

Soarin' noticed Rainbow a little ways away from the rest of the pegasi. She had not stirred from her spot, and her little cloud was darker than the others. Soarin' flew over to Rainbow, but he stopped when she appeared to be crying. Her head was down, hidden behind hooves, and her shoulders were heaving softly. Nervously, he landed next to her and lightly tapped on her shoulder. "Dash?"

Rainbow snapped up, taking in a shaky breath. Her ears perked up as she quickly turned to look at Soarin'. He backed up a pace.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"No," she said softly. "No, you're..." She looked down and sniffed. "Fine." Her ears drooped again, and she laid back down. Soarin' sat down next to her, unsure of what to do. Rainbow sniffed, and a tear escaped her eyes. He timidly put a wing on her back. She flinched at his touch but didn't say anything. She looked at him and gave him a weak smile before resting her head again.

Soarin' cleared her throat, but Rainbow didn't move. "I, uh..." He sighed. "You sure you don't wanna say goodbye to your friends?"

Rainbow's ears flattened, and she turned away from him. "I already have," she muttered.

He slowly laid down next to her, his wing still around her. "Are you doing alright, Dash?" he asked quietly. Rainbow shook her head. "Do you wanna talk about it?" She paused for a moment before again shaking her head no, burying it deeper into her hooves. He sighed, unsure what else to do. "Well, I'm here. Uh," he cleared his throat, "I-I mean, if you need somepony to talk to, I'm right here, Dash."

She said nothing for a moment, and Soarin' feared he had done something wrong. She then nodded and quietly croaked, "Thanks." She nestled herself into the cloud and yawned. With a small chuckle, Soarin' was impelled to yawn too.

After a few quiet minutes, he could feel her breathing calm down and her wings lose their tension. He glanced at Rainbow, who looked to be nearly asleep. Blushing, he began to stand up quietly.

"Alright, 'Bolts!" Spitfire shouted. Both Rainbow and Soarin' started and stood at attention. "We have a long flight ahead of us!" Spitfire continued. "If we don't stop, we'll be at Manehattan well before sunup!" Rainbow sighed softly, looking back at her spot. The other Wonderbolts too had small murmurs of dismay.

Spitfire looked about to shout again, but a yawn interrupted her. With a mirthless laugh, she turned back to the Wonderbolts. "I guess it has been quite a day. Fine. We'll camp here for the night." There were a few groggy cheers, and Spitfire held up a hoof for silence. "But we leave at sunup, right at sunup. At the crack of dawn. Understood?" Rainbow mumbled something close to yes before turning around and laying back down on her cloud. Soarin' saluted to Spitfire and looked at his old spot.

"Soarin'?" Rainbow said. Soarin' looked back at her. Her ears laid flat, and she blushed. "Could you... maybe... stay?" He was taken aback slightly, and she muttered to herself.

He walked over to her, nervously smiling. "Uh, y-yeah, sure." He slowly laid back down at her side. After a moment's deliberation, he put a wing over her back again.

She nestled closer to his side, making him blush. "Thank you," she said.

Soarin' thought perhaps now she would want to talk, but within a few minutes, she had fallen asleep.

With the sun now on their left instead of their right, Gilda and the other griffons were still meandering north. Gilda and Greta ended up leading the group. When they had left at dawn, one in the back had noticed there were more griffons behind them, armed with spears. Greta urged them to quicken their pace, but the other griffons kept their distance from the refugees, as if there to ensure they left, and after only an hour, they had turned around and left. From then on, the refugees took frequent breaks, though Greta encouraged them to keep heading north.

"Where are we going, Greta?" Gilda asked quietly. Greta didn't answer, and Gilda looked down. They were going slow; they only now were passing over Guto River, which normally was an hour from Griffonstone at a decent pace. Gilda shivered and, looking up at the darkening sky, began to worry. They were kicked out of Griffonstone so quickly that no one was able to bring with them anything, and, as they flew farther and farther north, they drew nearer to the cold mountains.

Gilda glanced backward at the wearied flock and then forward to the mountains. Where were they going? Where would they sleep tonight? What would they eat? How would they survive this? The griffons here, aside from Gilda, Greta, and a precious few, weren't the solitary and young ones of Griffonstone. They were the families, the children, and the old. What were they going to do? More questions of doubt and worry peppered Gilda's mind, and she wanted to talk to someone. She looked at Greta, but she seemed wrapped in enough worry herself.

Somewhat defeated, Gilda looked down. Rusty maroon covered the tips of her claws. She clenched them, holding back sudden tears. Those griffons were lucky they ran off when they did, she thought. If only she were there. How could they have killed Grampa Gruff, an old griffon? Why would they? Her vision became blurred, and she shut her eyes. It just wasn't fair. Why did they just kill him? Why did he have to die? Why not someone else? He didn't do anything to them.

She tried to suppress herself, but a cry escaped her beak. She clamped it shut and looked at Greta, who had glanced at Gilda. Greta seemed to study Gilda's face quickly and harshly before turning to face north again. Gilda couldn't help but feel hurt. She knew Greta was worried herself, but Gilda didn't think she would look at her with disdain. Greta was there, standing in the doorway, when Gilda was with Grampa Gruff. She knew, she had to know, what Gilda was feeling. Why wouldn't she talk to her?

"Alright," Greta said, startling Gilda. She stopped and faced the group, who quieted. "I think we need to find someplace to settle down for the night."

"Where at?" one said.

"Well," said another, "Griffonstone station is just a little north of here. We could stay there." Some other griffons nodded.

"Hm," Greta said. "Not too many other options, huh?"

"There's Equestria," Gilda added.

"Nah," Greta waved a dismissing claw. "Too far."

"But it's just another hour away…" Greta turned her head away, and Gilda frowned and turned her head down. The rest of the group muttered to themselves, but no other idea was suggested.

"So I guess it's settled then?" Greta asked. "The station? I mean, it's the best we've got." After a moment's deliberation, the majority assented, and they resumed their course. Gilda slowly drifted towards the back of the group.

After another few minutes of silent flight, they found it—or rather, what was left of it. Instead of a quaint brown building next to two thin metal lines, it was a fiery heap against the grassy hillside. The whole group slowed and stopped midair, many shaking their heads.

"Great!" an elderly griffon said next to Gilda. "Fantastic! All that flyin' for a no-good bonfire!"

"O-okay," Greta said, breathing quickly and pacing. "Okay, okay, u-uh..." She looked at the others, looking lost. "What now?"

"We can still stay there for the night," one suggested. "At least the fire would be warm." A few chuckled at that.

"What about Equestria?" Gilda mentioned again. "Trottingham isn't much father from here." Some murmured their agreement in the back.

"Seriously?" Greta said. "We'd be killed if we went there! We're griffons, the bad guys to them, remember?"

The group soon devolved into little disputes, all saying why their idea was right and another's wrong. Gilda watched as Greta huffed and separated herself from the group. She looked to the east, and after a moment, she turned somewhat excitedly to the group.

"The mountains!" Everyone turned to look at her. "The Pride wouldn't go to the mountains! That's the complete opposite way of Equestria!"

"Are you mad?" said one. "We'd die of cold up there!"

"Well," said Greta simply, "correct me if I'm wrong. To the north is Bugbear territory—bad. West is Equestria—also bad. South is the Pride—very bad. The east is just some empty mountains." She looked around at the others expectantly.

Gilda raised a claw. "I still think Trottingham's a safe bet."

Greta glared at Gilda and gestured to everyone else. "I'm not willing to risk it." She turned her attention to the crowd. "Anyone else? No? Alright." She paced a bit, scratching her head. "Alright. I think we should still stay at the station, at least for tonight. We'll scrounge up whatever we can, and then, in the morning, we'll head for the mountains." She pointed to the fire and motioned to it. "The day's almost up. Let's go!"

Both night and the thermometer fell quickly. The fire was slowly starting to die out, but it still radiated plenty of heat, preventing anyone from coming too close to it. Griffons surrounded it and started making makeshift nests in the tall grass nearby.

Gilda looked west at the mountains separating them from the ocean Trottingham. How could Greta be so stupid? The ponies wouldn't attack them. They aren't armed. Their group was made of families, not soldiers. Whatever. She'll see. One night in the snow, and Greta would beg for the group to go to Trottingham, where it's civilized and safe.

Gilda clenched her beak and started stamping grass into a little nest close to the fire. Why won't Greta listen to her? Why won't she talk to her? She's supposed to be her friend. What's going on? Gilda pulled some grass and attempted to fluff up the edges of her nest. When they fell flat for the third time, she gave up and threw it all into a big pile in the middle. She lied down on top and stared at the stars above.

"Do you need some help, Gilda?" Gilda flipped around and squinted at the figure silhouetted by the bonfire. She almost recognize the voice. "Oh, sorry!" the griffon said. She soared over Gilda and landed to let the fire show herself.

"Uh," Gilda said, "who're you, again?"

"I'm Gabby!" the blue-grey griffon said with a smile. "Don't you remember me?" She started counting on her claws. "I'm one of the mailgriffons, I delivered that letter of yours to Rainbow Dash a few weeks ago—"

"Right, right," Gilda said, a bit annoyed. "I remember you."

"So, uh, do you need any help? I noticed your nest is, well..." She pulled at some nearby grass. "It's a bit flat."

Gilda stood. "Yeah, I know."

"Don't worry, I can help!" Gabby started fluffing up one part of Gilda's nest. "I already made three nests for some of the older folks and—"

"Thanks," Gilda interrupted, "but I... I like my nest flat."

"Oh." Gabby chuckled nervously. "Sorry. Didn't know." She cleared her throat and awkwardly stamped flat what she had worked on. "Anyway, if you need help with anything, you know who to look for!" She waved and flew off, landing next to a family of four.

Gilda rolled her eyes and looked around for Greta, whom she found walking around the burning building. Gilda groaned. "I need to talk to her. Idiot." She brushed off some grass and flew over to her, slowing upon hearing Greta yell.

"Ah, damn! There's nothing here!" She looked at Gilda approaching with an exasperated huff. "What do you want?"

Gilda landed a few feet from Greta. "I just wanted to talk."

Greta groaned. "Oh, what, about Trottingham?"

"No! Look, would you just shut up and listen for a—"

"No, Gilda! I have too much to worry about right now!"

"I just wanna know why—"

"Just leave me alone! I—"

"Fine! I get it!"

"Thank you!" Greta snapped back.

Gilda turned around, swishing her tail. She walked over to her small nest and crawled inside, turning away from the others. She started to cry softly, letting her mind taunt her until sleep mercifully took her away.