The last colors of evening faded from the appropriately crystal-clear skies of the long-lost Crystal Empire as the songs of day birds gave way to the nightlong vigil of the crickets. Night Light turned away from the window of his opulent palatial guest suite in the Crystal Castle, his mouth resting in a contented smile.

A warm voice came from the chamber's luxurious bed. "So? How was it?"

"The sunset?"

"What else have you been looking at for the past half hour?" The voice turned from musical to slightly sultry. "It's almost as you don't have a fiendishly-attractive grandmare in the room with you."

Night Light laughed. "The sunset was gorgeous, thank you, but nothing compared to my wife."

"Good to hear."

The cobalt-colored stallion slipped between the crisp white sheets, found Velvet's warmth with his hooves and pulled in close. Their lips met, and they did not speak for some time.

"You know," he said, eventually, "we are the luckiest ponies. Our son's a prince by marriage. Our daughter, a princess by merit."

"And now, our new grandfoal," said Velvet, "A princess by birth, something Equestria's never seen."

"So, what do you think? Good genes? Good upbringing?"

"Good children," said Velvet, snuggling up. "In their own right. We just helped them along."

"I suppose," said Night Light. He held her for a moment, feeling the rhythm of her heartbeat. "Still, what say we see what other miracles we can help usher into being?"

"Dear," she replied, "I would love nothing better."

---

Canterlot. Night. The cordoned-off lecture hall was illuminated by candles and fireflies only, by strict order of the Celestia herself. The residual thaumaturgic radiation had been powerful enough to turn a conventional mage-light into a custard pie earlier that afternoon, and the princess had requested that none of her faculty be exposed to any more unnecessary risk.

One element of necessary risk—used for a maximum of fifteen seconds every ten minutes, lest the School for Gifted Unicorns be exposed to yet more madness—was Associate Professor Dawn Strike's arcane thaumometer. With the instrument gripped gingerly between her teeth (no telekinesis, too risky), Dawn Strike used her allotted fifteen seconds to run a quick wave scan on the second of two anomalous potted plants in the room, a San Palomino flowering cactus.

The thaumometer bleeped and blipped, producing another fragment of data for Dawn Strike to throw onto the pile of understanding. She wanted more—Sweet Celestia, did she want more!—but even this brief period of magic use had turned one of the chairs a rather unnerving shade of teal, and she dared go no further until the thaumic currents died down.

Dawn Strike carefully set the instrument on a nearby desk and was in the process of rubbing away a headache with one hoof when the voice of her colleague, Associate Professor Sunshine, rose up from the back of the room.

"Finding anything useful in here?"

Dawn Strike looked up at him. "Not much. None of it good." She gestured at the potted fern. "Little Miss Sparkle's mum's been completely eradicated, but there's still some trace of pony mental activity in the father."

"Not sure which of the two of them to feel sorrier for," said Sunshine, clip-clopping gently down the aisle.

"Feel sorry for the filly," she said. "Can you imagine it? Rubbing out both your parents in a magical accident before you're even Marked? That'll scar you."

"Mm."

"The brother's a Guard brat; he may have to go on extended sabbatical. Only family she's got left and all."

"Tough life," said Sunshine. He glanced back at the plants. "On the other hoof, must be no picnic being a cactus forever."

"We don't know for sure that he's aware and conscious. Nor do we know his perception of time. Entire moons may have passed, as far as he's concerned. He could be dreaming. He could be lucid. He could be in constant excruciating agony. There's nothing we can do to even tell."

Sunshine shook his head. "Poor devil," he said. "It must be a living Tartarus in there."

---

Night proper came to the Crystal Empire. Night Light drifted to sleep, the love of his life cradled in his hooves, thinking happy thoughts of his beautiful children.

He was smiling.