The rays of slowly setting sun sinking towards the sea caused nearby mountains to cast long shadows over cooling desert sands. At the base of one mountain lay a town, nestled between mountains, desert, and a bay jutting inland from the nearby Sapphire Ocean. As shadows spread, a series of indigo mage-flame lanterns flared to life all over the town, thinning the darkness and leaving the inhabitants with a calm evening radiance with which to wander and carouse. Within the town, the streets bustled with activity. Ponies travelled to saloons, bars, stage-shows and even the one in-town cinema, though most headed towards the great library that was carved deep into the mountain. The library contained copies of every book known to ponykind, and it was the rare pony indeed who found themselves on the waiting list for a desired book. While most wore little to nothing, one mare had on cape and cowl to cover her features, at least until she passed the great doors into the library. Where other ponies streamed towards the enchanted tomes that would help them find whatever they might desire, the cowled pony turned left into a reading alcove. There was a shelf there with a dozen tomes, and she carefully removed the third, ninth, and eighth, then put them back in the same order, and finally gave the chair a soft kick. The nearby wall swung silently inwards, and mare passed into the waiting passage as wall shut behind her. She made her way up winding stairs and into the private quarters of the Librarian. Books were strewn in piles to the ceiling, and floating orbs of uncovered mage-flame wisped about the room in an endless dance of light and shadow. “Hello, Twilight,” said mare as she lowered her cowl to allow horn and flowing mane free. “It is good to see you again, as it were.” Celestia strode forward and stretched her wings, then settled them against her side. “Now where are you hiding tonight?” “Boo,” came voice behind Celestia’s ear, startling the mare, but only for a moment before melodious laughter and a gentle flick of hoof touched her ear. “Right behind you, it would seem. Hello, Princess.” Twilight’s voice carried the warmth of long affection as she walked round Celestia, standing eye to eye with her. “I’m glad you could come. I don’t get to see you nearly often enough.” “So you say with each visit, Twilight,” Celestia said softly. “But I have responsibilities back home, and I…” “Do not feel comfortable visiting for more than a few hours at a time. I know. I know. It’s okay, Princess.” Twilight’s mouth turned upwards even as Celestia’s curled into a small frown. “If I had a bit for every time I’d asked you to stop calling me Princess-” Celestia began, only for Twilight to interject. “You’d have eighteen thousand, seven hundred and forty-three bits, Princess,” Twilight grinned. “I may have kept count.” Celestia snorted, but her lips quirked just the same. “Apparently so,” she agreed. “But then, there is only so much time. If you wish to spend it all teasing me…” “Oh, no, no, no! I had thought we could go out on the town tonight. I mean, if you will. Assuming you want to stay here, anyway?” “Yes, please,” Celestia said. “Your town is a comfort, Twilight. It reflects you well, with so many scholars and researchers choosing to make their home here.” “There was a petition, recently,” Twilight laughed, “To dub me the Princess of Books. Again. That one never goes away, not forever anyhow. Somepony always seems to think they are being clever when they read a reference to the first time, and try to bring it back.” “Ah, well...ponies will be ponies,” Celestia said softly. “And, oh, your friends? Anything new and notable?” She broke into a short trot, heading towards double balcony doors now that lay on the far side of the piles of endless books. “Shall we glide back down?” Twilight shook her head in wry amusement. “All that trouble to sneak in every time and as soon as you get here…” “Ponies don’t bother me when I’m with you,” Celestia said simply. “When I am seen alone I tend to get swarmed. Together, well, there is always the curious one or two, but-” “They understand our time is important. Of course, you could simply teleport directly here. You’re always welcome.” “Let an old mare have her games, Twilight. There’s little enough for me to play at as is.” Celestia nudged open the balcony doors and walked out, then hopped onto the balustrade, perching there and turning head to await Twilight. “There could be,” Twilight said softly. Celestia’s posture tensed in moments, and Twilight’s ears folded backwards. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “My mouth runs ahead of my sensibility, sometimes.” Celestia said nothing as she fanned her wings and gave them a quick flap, then let the swirling air play over her feathers. “I know how you feel,” she said quietly. “How you both feel. Please don’t make this an issue again.” She leapt off the edge, and Twilight followed. The crisp air had hints of sea-salt in it as thermals buoyed them upwards, the cooling desert radiating away its daytime heat. The two alicorns flew in a spiral for a time, then wings spread and they began to glide downwards, towards the waiting town below. When ground approached, Twilight took the lead, guiding them towards a quiet alleyway dotted by closely packed two-story buildings. All windows save one were dim for now, and it was at the adjacent door Twilight raised her hoof and knocked twice. A small cover cracked open to reveal a pair of eyes, and then door followed. “Princess Twilight! Come in! Oh! Who is this?” The mare beckoning them in was a pudgy earth pony of soft moss-green coat and autumnleaf mane, her cutie mark a loaf of bread with wisps of steam wafting from the top. “This is Celestia,” Twilight said gently. “You know, the other-other-other-other Princess. Good evening Fresh Loaf.” “Welcome, Celestia!” chirped Fresh Loaf, “Oh, I didn’t realize you were coming or I’d have pulled out all the stops! Twilight, why didn’t you tell me you were bringing a Princess?” “I asked her not to,” Celestia said as she ducked through the door and into a comfortably large two-floor dining room. Her eyes roamed up the winding stairs. “An interesting choice in interior. Where do you live?” “Oh, well, I’m from Neighples originally, and I always want to keep a touch of home with me. And the third floor, of course! Sit down! What would you like and when? The usual for you, Twilight?” “Yes, please,” came the reply. “Celestia, I would recommend any of her pasta dishes. Those are Fresh Loaf’s specialty.” Twilight winked. “Her mark may be in bread, but she’s branched out recently.” “Well, you know,” Fresh Loaf replied, “There’s only so many ways I can make bread. I wanted to try something new.” “Lasagna, then, if you would,” Celestia asked. “It’s been some time since I’ve had anything from around there.” “Of course! Just ring the bell whenever you are ready and your food will be right out!” The hostess scurried away, leaving just the two Princesses to catch up and gossip. Small talk for a time, and at mutual agreement, Twilight lightly jingled the bell. Their food was at the table within half a minute, and after her first bite Celestia slumped backwards and smiled. “Oh, delicious. I haven’t had anything tasting like that in a long time!” She paused. “Thank you, Miss Loaf. Would you perchance have a little extra sauce? It felt just a touch dry for my tastes.” Fresh Loaf smiled and dipped her head. “Try now,” she prompted, and Celestia bit in once again. Her next bite was more vigorous, and then she tore into the food, the sort of guzzling that would put Twilight’s long-ago hayburger binges to shame. Twilight put her own utensil down and frowned a little. “Have you been eating alright, Princess?” she asked carefully. Celestia paused mid-bite to swallow and lick red pasta sauce off her cheek. “Of course,” she said. “There just hasn’t been as much menu variety. Gala Sweet is the current cook and while I do love her desserts I sometimes wish she had a wider entree variety, but…” A small sigh. “There will be a new chef eventually. Perhaps he or she will experiment, again.” Twilight opened her mouth to say something. “Hi!” chirped a bright new voice from hip-level. “Who are you? Are you a friend of Miss Twilight? I haven’t seen you before! What’s your name?” The speaker was a small emerald-coated filly with white mane and a nubby horn. “Oh! I’m Little Gem! Momma’s food is really good, isn’t it?” Celestia took the chatter in stride, and gave the child a smile. “Hello, dear. My name is Celestia. Your mother’s food is good.” A small pause. “Did you say your mother? When are you from, dear?” “Well, here!” Gem said brightly. “I’ve always been in San Palomino! Well, except for vacation. And school, I guess, but I like it here! Princess Twilight is really nice and I love my friends too!” “She’s a…” Celestia prompted Twilight. “Native Eternal, yes,” Twilight said. “Always has been. Gem, dear, why don’t you go tell your Mommy we’re ready for dessert? Maybe Celestia will talk more later, but she’s had a long day and is a bit tired.” “Okay!” came bright reply as hooves scampered off into the kitchen. “I’m sorry about that,” Twilight said. “Most ponies here are too caught up in their studies to want children, but there’s a few, and well, now that we can, it’s nice to have children about again.” Celestia pushed her chair back abruptly and gave Twilight a strained smile. “I think I need to get going,” she said. “I said I would do the Sunrise Ceremony today and that will require some preparation. I’d rather not keep the Seraphs waiting.” Twilight’s ears drooped. “If you need to go,” she said softly. “I understand. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize Gem was home and -” “It’s okay, Twilight. Give my regards to your friends. I’ll see you next time.” “What about-” Twilight began, but the seat across from her was already empty. [hr] Once more, sun fell towards setting amidst the desert, mountains, and bay that framed the town of San Palomino. Once more, cowled Princess joined the throng headed to the library only to duck in secret passage and make her way into Twilight’s sanctum. Once more, Twilight could not resist playing a little prank, this time dropping from the ceiling to startle Celestia, although both were giggling at the end of it. “Another season gone, then,” Twilight observed. “The harvest was bountiful enough,” Celestia smiled. “We will have plenty for the winter back home.” Twilight shook her head. “It never ceases to be strange every year you tell me that,” she replied. “It would not have been, once.” “No…” Twilight said, and dipped her head. “No, it would not have. But all things change, Princess.” “Not all things. Some things change far less than they used to.” Once more, Celestia moved her way towards balcony. “What are the plans for tonight, then?” “I had thought we could go see a film,” Twilight smiled. “Have you ever seen a Three Dimensional film, Celestia? They are absolutely breathtaking.” “I have not. What is it called?” “Space Star Six. Rarity and Rainbow Dash helped produce it. And star in it. As Rainbow puts it, ‘She adds the class, I add the Awesome!’. They’ve spent some thirty years perfecting it.” “‘Space Star Six’?” Celestia’s ears pricked forward and her feathers lightly flicked. “Then there are five before it?” “Oh, no. Well. Not yet! There may be at some point, but they wanted to start in the middle of the story. It’s about this grand galactic conflict - Discord helped in inventing some of the stranger things that are present in the film. I’ve heard it’s quite good!” “Still, it seems very...futuristic.” “Well, it’s from somewhen else,” Twilight said. “Oh,” Celestia began, and turned head away to look out the window. Her tail twitched in mild agitation. “I suppose we can try.” “Princess,” Twilight said, and stepped close, draped a wing over her. “You’re visiting, yes? There’s no harm in seeing something new. We’re still staying here in San Palomino. It will be just us. It’s not out yet, so we’ll have a private theater.” “‘Private’,” Celestia repeated. “Yes. I suppose it would be easy enough to arrange for that here. ‘As many screens as anypony can want’, no?” Twilight stroked her wing down the Princess’s back, let feathertips touch just enough for comfort. “Exactly,” she agreed. Together they stood in silence and watched the distant ocean which glimmered in reflected solar radiance, turning the water into an evening jewel. “Have you talked with Luna recently?” she queried, breaking temporary silence. Celestia tensed immediately, and only the sudden tug of Twilight’s wing kept her own from flaring out aggressively. “Our last conversation was simply a repeat of hundreds before it, Twilight. Luna will not change. She does not understand. Doesn’t want to understand. And I have better things to do than let my little sister try to tell me how little regard she feels for my views on the matter.” Twilight lowered her head and her nostrils flared with escaping breath. One hoof held to chest, slowly extended to point towards the sea. “Don’t you miss her?” The first denial died unsaid on Celestia’s lips, and instead she stared out towards falling sun. Then she strode forwards onto balcony and hopped up onto it. “I believe we have a movie to get to, Twilight. Luna has her own path she has chosen, and refuses to deviate. Until then, how much I miss her matters little. Why should I have to come in here to visit her? She can come out whenever she wishes.” With that she launched herself off and towards the theater waiting below, and Twilight spiralled down in her wake. “I never would have expected Rainbow Dash to play the imprisoned princess,” Celestia said as they emerged afterwards. “Though I suppose she was ‘awesome’, as it were. Not at all, how did she always complain? ‘Frou-frou’?” Twilight nodded. “Dash has grown a bunch. They all have. I wish you’d come visit more often, Princess. I’m sure they’d all love to see you.” Celestia frowned at her. “Twilight,” she chided, “What has gotten into you? I’ve said my piece on this matter. This place? It is not my home. Equestria is my home.” “Equestria is here too, Princess,” Twilight said softly. “Any way you like it, any where or when you like it, it can be here.” The two lifted into the air and came to rest shortly thereafter on roof of the theater to gaze out to sea, and sun frozen just above the horizon. Absently, Twilight flicked her hoof forwards, and a scintillating rainbow spread across the horizon in wake of her motion. “You see?” “That is what I am afraid of,” Celestia said softly. “Till next time, Twilight.” The last rays of setting sun were lost within the waves, and as the moon crested the opposite horizon, Twilight stood alone atop the theater. [hr] Celestia rose from the cushion she lay upon. She arched her back, fanned her wings to full extension, and twisted neck side to side to enjoy the pleasant ache of sleep-addled muscles stretching to wakefulness. She gazed side to side, taking in the relatively simple quarters she slept in. A sleeping mat stuffed with straw, an old, well-worn pillow, a heavy blanket still thick with ancient enchantments to keep it preserved. That, at least, she was loathe to part with. It had been a faithful companion through long eons, and if she had her way, would be with her for ages still. The walls of her room were hewn red stone, rock decorated with a few scrolls, some old paintings, and a photograph or two. Each of these, too, bore the faint glimmer of enchantment to keep them safe, and her eyes fell upon an old portrait of herself and her sister in happier days. She lingered upon it till a tugging in her horn called her out to the balcony of her shielded mountain-home. Far below lay the fields where were the sun up she knew she would pick out a few distant figures already at work. She shut her eyes to fix that pressing issue, and far away felt the sun answer her call. An old, gentle caress, but she bid sun wait patiently, for the moon still needed tending. A second call, and this was more mournful, melancholy, for the moon longed for her mistress, and though she no longer ached as involuntary prison, the separation still ached at her. [i]Or perhaps it is just me projecting[/i], Celestia thought to herself. Moon sank and sun rose and so she ushered in the dawn. Day’s first duty done, she turned and headed out of her quarters. Her hooves echoed throughout the stone halls, and soon enough she encountered her first pony of the day. “Good morning, Acolyte Redfern,” she greeted gently. “And to you, Celestia,” he replied in a grave tone, though he bent a knee and splayed tufted ears in respect. “Oh, you used my name for once!” she teased, and graced him with a smile. “It’s much better than ‘She-Who-Brings-The-Dawn’ or ‘Our Lady Light’ is it not?” Redfern tutted softly as he rose, and his wing membranes twitched at the tease. “That remains to be seen. But you have asked it of me, and I shall endeavor to obey...Celestia. May I have your leave to part? The night’s vigil is finished, and though you are the best possible reason to be up in the daylight, I need rest to stand vigil again tonight.” “Then do not let me stop you, Redfern!” Celestia stepped aside to allow him to pass easily in the somewhat narrow hall. “Is the Abbess awake yet?” “She is,” he said. “And is waiting for you within the Reflection Room.” “Thank you, young Seraph,” she said, and dipped her head in a bow. Redfern frowned. “I have not yet earned that title, Radiant One,” he said, falling back into more formal posture as he did. “I am not worthy to be called such.” “I see few ponies who take to their studies with such gusto as you, Redfern. Twilight Sparkle was one, of course. Well, is one, I suppose.” A pensive frown. “Apologies. I have much on my mind.” “A visit to the Eternal?” he asked unbidden, then his ears laid backwards. “Apologies. Forgive me, Radiant One. It is not my place to pry into your business.” “There is naught to forgive, Redfern. Please, rise. You are correct.” She shook her head. “I...had hoped...but no matter. They are all well, of course.” Redfern smiled at her. “I would hope so. Though the herd may not be as large as it once was, still there remain enough to watch, and shield, and stand vigilant so long as the Radiant One stands with us.” Once more, Celestia smiled. “I have no plans to go anywhere, Redfern. This is my home. Our home. Be well, and give the cooks my regards.” She paused briefly. “Actually…” she said, and turned her head. “If you would be willing, ask Gala Sweet about possibly changing the menu up at dinner tonight. Perhaps she could try something new with the potato harvest? We have plenty to spare, and I would love to see her experiment.” “I shall convey your request, Radiant One. But…” Redfern kicked a hoof against the stone. “Gala Sweet always seems to be quite set to her routine, given it is-” “The optimal diet to promote health, strength, and longevity,” Celestia repeated, adding a nasal rasp to her voice as she did. “I daresay we would get a bit more of all three if ponies had something new to look forward to, mm? Perhaps I shall plant the idea in the Abbess’s head as well. But I have kept you long enough. Good day, Redfern.” “Good day, Radiant One,” Redfern said. He moved past Celestia, but then stopped and watched as she made her way down the corridor. After a few seconds he observed the wilt of her ears, a small droop to her wings, a slowing of the flowing of mane and tail, and a frown spread across his face as he set off once more. [hr] The Reflection Room was a place of quiet contemplation, set several floors up, and it was one of the few rooms within the monastery to show signs of luxury. A great window was set into the stone, many-colored glass panels mounted within, so that when the sun rose the room was cast into an array of endlessly shifting colors. The opposite wall was one of the few painted surfaces, kept a fresh white to provide a canvas for the sun to play. Upon the floor, comfortable, well-tended pillows sat strewn about the room. At this hour, nearly every pony was either still abed or already engaged in the day’s labors, so only one pillow was occupied when the Princess slipped the door open, then guided it closed as quietly as possible. Celestia took a few steps forward, till she sat herself upon one of the largest pillows and faced the one sitting there. She then dipped her head, and spoke. “Good morning, Abbess Lightfeather. Is there anything new to report? Any ponies in need of aid?” Lightfeather was an older pegasus, whose days of all but gliding were behind her, but her eyes still sparkled with youthful fire as she shook her head. “The night was quiet, but I suspect you know that already from young Redfern. Unless I’m mistaken he was headed your way.” “I did encounter him, yes.” “As for the second question, I can think of one pony, Celestia. But in all the time I have known her I have found her quite stubborn. She is a very generous pony to all but herself. Wise and kind, but it seems incapable of admitting when she is in pain.” “Oh? Well, perhaps I can speak to her, then. There is nothing wrong with taking time for oneself when needed, and if one spends too much time giving, eventually there is nothing left to give.” Lightfeather shifted on her pillow, turning eyes to the colors washing across the far wall. “It is good advice,” she agreed. “I am not so certain the mare will be wise enough to listen, however.” “Where is she?” Celestia prompted. “I can go to her myself.” “You visited the Eternal last night, did you not?” Lightfeather asked abruptly. “How was your time there?” Her wrinkled features creased into a smile. “You are not so secretive as you may wish, Celestia. Don’t look so shocked. The Longest Day. The Longest Night. And the twin days of balance. You are like the seasons themselves in that regard. Those who keep eyes open and ears attentive…but I digress. Whom did you visit?” “Twilight Sparkle,” Celestia said. “We watched a film. It is like a -” “I know what a film is, you silly old nag,” Lightfeather laughed aloud. “Oh, come now, I was a young mare once, and I was curious about the Eternal Dream. There are very few of us who don’t peek at least once, and I?” She chortled. “I was quite taken with it when I was an acolyte. A place where anything you desire can be made real with but a thought? Wondrous. But when the time came to choose…” She raised her head up, met Celestia’s gaze. “I would be loyal to the one loyal to us.” “I do not ask that of you,” Celestia whispered. “I ask that of none of you.” “And that is why you are worthy. Perhaps, at the end of things, I will find I am not ready for the longest sleep, and instead choose to dream. Perhaps. But I do not think so, highness.” Lightfeather rose to her hooves and strode to the window to look outside. “I do not believe I could dream forever. Eventually every Dreamer must wake, and if we are lucky, we shall all run with the Eternal Herd.” “And if not?” Celestia prompted softly. “Then what matters it if it comes in eighty years or eighty thousand, Radiant One?” she replied. “If there is an end that is a true end, then it awaits us all, and once we enter the final sleep, there are no more dreams to remember, no matter how many have come before.” Lightfeather sat there and watched distant sun continue its slow climb. “Still,” she said, “If I am honest with myself, the Dream is tempting. But so few of those I have known have chosen it, and I cannot help but feel to Dream would be to betray the vows we make to honor your choice.” Celestia bowed her head and stared at her hooves. “It is no betrayal,” she said softly. “It is a choice I would support. For all of you, if you chose to take it.” “There are fewer of us than there once were,” Lightfeather replied. “And fewer still in the years yet to come, I wager. Young Redfern is one of only a half-dozen Nottlynga we are aware of. Perhaps there is some distant colony, but I think it far more likely that they have all followed their lady Moon. The Dream calls to them more strongly than others.” She fluffed her wings. “It is we stubborn pegasi who hold out most, it seems. Who would have thought, ages ago, that pegasi would have to take up farming? But we have, and in tandem with our earthbound cousins, we grow enough for our needs.” Her voice fell to a soft near-whisper. “Loyalty’s blood remains strong amongst the Seraphs.” Celestia finally rose and walked only to sit beside Lightfeather and join her in gazing outwards, towards what remnant of Ponykind toiled in fields below or within the Monastery itself. “Celestia?” Lightfeather asked. “Did you mean it, earlier? That advice for the errant mare?” “I did,” she said, and turned to smile at her. “Would you like me to go to her now?” “There is no need,” Lightfeather said. “You’ve already told her. You had some quite insightful advice for yourself.” Celestia turned head away again, and slowly her limbs drooped till she was lying upon the floor. “I wouldn’t know where to begin,” she said. “What do you want most?” Lightfeather asked. “Or more appropriately, who do you want most?” Celestia stayed silent. “I suspect she wants you too. But if she is half as stubborn as you, you old mule, you two will be sitting apart until the sun goes out, and then it will be too late. Why wait?” “Because…” she began. “She won’t let go. Every meeting, a fight. Neither of us will ever convince the other she is right.” “So what?” Lightfeather raised a slightly trembling wing, but boxed Celestia on the neck with it anyways. “Is winning the argument worth the price?” With that, Lightfeather rose to her hooves and began to hobble her way towards the exit. “No, no,” she said, waving Celestia off when alicorn rose to aid her. “These old bones aren’t that old yet. I just need some time to get my blood moving, that’s all. Take your own advice, Celestia. Visit the Eternal more often if you like. Live there for a time, if that’s what you need. You are one of the chosen of Harmony. You may awaken whenever you wish. She’s there, if you are willing to go to her.” With that, Lightfeather slowly pushed open the door and exited, leaving Celestia to sit alone. After a time, she turned and watched the colors dance across the far wall. After a longer time, when she was far from the only occupant of the room, she rose and left. [hr] No natural light reached this deep within the mountain. The rough hewn stone of the monastery had long given way to more precise horncut stone, till she stopped before an ancient metal doorway. A panel glowed beneath the touch of her hoof, and with a soft hiss of chilled air, the door slid open, and Celestia walked inside. A light azure light rose from the crystal lanterns hanging at regular intervals within. She moved forward along a ceramic-tiled walkway, stepping around the perimeter of a vast cavern a dozen lengths high and hundreds of hoofsteps in length and width. Soon, she came to a stairwell and descended to the floor below, lanterns ahead of her coming to life as those behind fell into darkness when they were no longer needed. Ahead of her she could feel the swell of vast amounts of magic, an endless pulsing heartbeat of power that hummed beyond hearing and yet set her horn to sympathetic thrumming. She passed between row after row of great, ceiling-high shelves, each shelf containing thousands upon thousands of small cubbies, and within each cubby sat a dimly glowing crystal, each its own subtle hue, adding a dancing kaleidoscope of flickering color upon every shelf. Deeper and deeper she went, till she reached the far wall, and stopped before another doorway set amidst the metal sheeting covering the walls. Once more she pressed a panel, and waited. This time when doors opened, Celestia stepped onto a waiting platform, and stared at a panel with a dozen buttons. She tapped three in succession, then sat down to wait as platform hummed to life and she felt herself start to descend. Minutes passed as the elevator took her ever-deeper within the mountain, till it slowed to a stop, and the doors opened as the pleasant voice of Twilight Sparkle announced brightly, “San Palomino Repository, level five hundred.” Down here the air was even chillier, but the crystal lamps still flared to life at her approach. The ceiling here was far shorter, the racks containing far fewer crystals, the design more haphazard as Celestia wove her way towards the center. Here, there were actual doors, and though most she passed without a glance, she stopped before one, and after hesitating, pressed hoof to panel to coax it to glide open. This room held no crystal lanterns, yet when she entered three balls of purple mage-flame sprang into being, illuminating the room, empty save for a tube in the center. The tube was filled with a lightly glowing fluid, and suspended within lay the thin form of Twilight Sparkle, her eyes shut, naked save for a torc in which was mounted a glowing crystal, one that pulsed in tandem with the countless others cradled safely therein. Celestia smiled. Her hoof reached up to touch the glass, lingered there for a time, and then dropped away. Twilight would not be waking today, or anytime soon. Sometime in the next century, Celestia hoped, she would visit, if only to inspect the facility and ensure everything remained in order. “Dream well, Twilight,” she whispered, then turned to leave the room. There were other doors she passed without stopping. Cadance. Flurry. Discord, though last she heard he instead slept upon a pedestal in what was once the gardens of Canterlot. He was never one to resist a wisecrack, even if only she would get the joke. All dear friends, as were so many others, but not whom she had come to see. That was the final door. The heart of the San Palomino Repository. The mare who made it all possible. Who formed the heart of the Eternal Dream. Luna. Her hoof trembled as it rose, yet...it fell short of touching the panel to open the door. Celestia drooped, as her breath came ragged in her chest, yet still she turned away and took a step forwards. One became two, and two became three. Three did not become four, for a noise behind her stopped her in place. Her ear strained and she turned her head, yet saw naught but the door behind her, and after a few seconds of staring, she turned and walked forward again. Once more a noise, but this she dismissed as an echo of her own hooves, or a mere trick of perception. The quiet cough, however, was no illusion. “Leaving...so...soon?” came rasping voice in its wake, each word slow, forced reedy through lungs straining from ages of disuse, and Celestia froze in place. Her disbelieving head turned around and body followed suit as she stood flummoxed at sight before her. “Don’t be...so...quick...to compliment…” There was the wheeze of lungs struggling to pull in fresh air. “My...beauty...Celestia.” Luna stood there, trembling on emaciated legs. Her skin was drawn tightly against her thin frame, and her whole body glowed in her own hornlight, magic necessary to supplement muscles far too atrophied from her long, long sleep to stand under their own power. “What…” Celestia began, then swallowed. “What are you doing...awake? You...never wake. Ever.” “Your...young...Redfern...cares quite...deeply...for you.” Luna’s next breath was a little stronger now. Her voice still shook from disuse, but words flowed more freely as Celestia’s own horn lit to lend aid to her struggling sister. “Good that he has...not taken his vows yet...yes?” Her left eye trembled as it fought to close, but eventually stopped halfway and Luna soon abandoned the wink. “Abbess Lightfeather, on the other hoof...my, my, I never expected the High Seraph to visit the Eternal Dream. Rather...naughty of her.” Celestia’s hooves began to move, slowly. The ground was but air as she closed the gap between herself and Luna, and then bent and quietly touched her horn to her sister’s own. “I missed you,” she whispered. “So, so much. I am sorry. For…” Luna touched a cracked hoof to Celestia’s lips, holding it for a second before burning fatigue forced her to lower the limb. “None of that...now, Tia. Apologies can come...once I...recover some strength.” Little sister smiled. “It has...been a long, long time...since I have seen your sun. I would...love to see...the sunrise once more.” Her stomach abruptly growled. “And...food. I have not eaten real food in…however long it...has been.” “It’s a little late for sunrise, Luna,” Celestia said with a soft smile. “It’s afternoon. But...sunset is but a few hours off. I could show you my home while we wait. Fetch us a meal. I suspect you’ll be needing broth, for a while. And...perhaps, if you feel up to it...I do not know if I have the strength to raise the moon today. Would you try in my stead?” Luna smiled once again, and Celestia crouched on her belly to allow her little sister to clamber onto her back. Within San Palomino, countless generations of ponies continued to frolic within the Eternal Dream, but for at least one more day, the waking Equestria would welcome both sisters, as they were meant to be. Together.