"Sometimes I have to take a walk in the gardens to remind myself," Celestia said. The night air was cool but not cold, just the right temperature to allow the shadowlilies to spread open, luminous petals reaching towards the sky. They spread out across the grass like a carpet, right up to the border of the imposing hedges where they made a striking contrast against the dark leaves. Raven Quill followed behind Celestia, having to make two steps for her every one. Stillness stretched out as a soft blanket, so much so that when Raven broke the silence, it almost caught Celestia off guard. "Remind yourself of what?" Celestia paused. Her elegant neck arched, tilting as she looked towards the sky, where the moon shone down between a scattering of low clouds. The dark image etched upon the moon's surface was all too familiar, even if ponies had already begun to forget. What once had been loud gossip had faded to whispers, and then simply myth. "To remind myself of the past," Celestia said. She looked down again, wishing she could still shed a tear for her sister, but that acute grief had long ago dulled into a more sedate sorrow, locked in her heart. Instead, she continued onward into the garden, stopping at the base of a stone statue. "Discord," Raven read aloud, looking up at the chimeric figure on the pedestal. She shivered. Celestia's lips pressed in a thin line. This too was a decision that she had to recognize and live with. This too came with its share of regrets and might-have-beens. She could read a lot in the stone fangs of the master of chaos: pride and danger, but also joy and frivolity. "We must all remember the sacrifices we choose, both for ourselves and others," she whispered. Raven had wandered over to look at another decorative plaque set into the ground. It was so old that dirt and grass obscured the face of the monument, and Raven had to hoof at it to read the engraving. "The Crystal Empire?" Celestia let out the briefest of sighs. Some burdens were personal and others stretched to encompass thousands within their bounds. When balancing the scales of Equestria, are all ponies lives equal, nameless things to be measured against one another in pure utility? Or are some decisions always wrong, no matter what course is chosen? Regardless, Celestia made a note to herself to see to the gardener about tending to this memorial. No decision should be forgotten, no price paid without being written in the ledger of her heart. "Uh, Princess, it's just… Oh, but I couldn't ask…" Celestia turned to Raven, smiling softly. "Go ahead, my little pony. Please." "Well, it's just that I've read a lot about history and everything and…" Raven flushed red. "Don't you ever think you put an awful lot of your problems on hold without actually solving them?" Celestia paused, momentarily stunned. Then she let out a laugh, the crystal clear sound catching Raven totally by surprise. "I had never… Oh my." Raven shuffled her hooves, not meeting Celestia's gaze. With one hoof, Celestia raised Raven's head to look into her eyes. "You may be right, my little pony. And it's precisely that willingness to speak that sets you apart from the rest. I'm certainly glad that I chose you to be my next advisor, Raven Quill." Raven froze. Celestia raised an eyebrow. "Th-thanks, Princess. But, uh, that's not my name." Celestia blinked. "It's not?" "Nope." "Oh, of course! I'm so sorry, that was my previous advisor. Time makes fools of everypony, but that's something you'll learn with age too, Gingersnaps." Gingersnaps (?) shook her head. "Not that either." "Sable Spark?" "Uh-uh." "Lemony Gem?" "Wrong." "Creeping Ivy?" "That's the gardener over there." On the other side of the gardens, a pony looked up and waved. Then he got back to trimming the shrubbery sculpture of Tirek, who Celestia had imprisoned in Hades for ten thousand years. "Uh," Celestia said, eyeing the pony's cutie mark. It was something abstract. Figures. "Um." With a flash, a beam of light shot from her horn. Suddenly, in place of her advisor was a stone statue of a little pony. Celestia rubbed her eyes with a hoof. "Oh dear. I should really apologize for that." She paused, thinking. "Maybe in another couple of centuries."