As always, the winter was long, cold and dark, only temporarily broken by the midwinter festivities. It gave him a lot of times to think about the two interactions. And try to convince himself and the husband that it really had happened.

He still didn’t know what she was. He’d only heard his father’s stories of the Pegasuses and Unicorns that lived near his homeland, and up until now had had no experience of what they actually looked like. He remembered as a child, trying to imagine a horse with bird wings or a horn sticking out of their forehead. Now, he at least knew the horns he’d imagined as smooth like cow-horns actually spiraled out, and that the wings were much smaller than he’d thought they’d be.

What threw him for a loop, was the fact that she appeared to be both a Pegasus and Unicorn at the same time. And also of the Earth, if he took her word for it.

He’d sent a letter to his sister with the first caravan to dare travel through the pass, asking her what she knew of the Pegasuses and Unicorns. But he couldn’t expect an answer for a while yet, so for now, all he had to go off of was what little he could recall of his father’s stories.

And what that was… was generally not good. Pegasuses were war-crazed swoop-buckers, who didn’t hesitate to call down storms and slaughter any Earth ponies who didn’t supply them with food. Unicorns controlled the heavenly bodies, using their magic to bind Celestia and Luna to their will, and demanding the practical slave labor of both Pegasuses and those of the Earth, or they plunge the entire world into scorching heat and bitter cold.

But he couldn’t recall any mentions of both. The closest thing -which, is what he had first thought she was- was the stories he’d heard of trolls. Trolls look like ponies, but… wrong somehow; his best recollection was of the troll in the story about the three brothers. That troll had had short legs, a mane that ran all the way down the back, a long face and eyes on the sides of their head. They were clearly not ponies, but close enough that you could mistake them for one at a distance. So when he saw a horse larger than him, but with gangly teenage proportions, wings and horn? Of course that’s what he assumed. What else could it have been?

But….

It, she, had healed him. Trolls are tricksters, who steal food, cause accidents, change their skin to trick you into helping them, and even steal your children and replace them with their own. They don’t help you.

It could be a trick, he supposed. She could be playing the long game, trying to make him trust her enough to somehow get the rest of the village. How, he wasn’t sure, but he knew should be careful and probably not believe anything she’d told him.

But in the darkness of the night, when he felt his husband shift in worry over a nightmare, and he could reach over with a foreleg and pull him close… he could help but thank her. That he could still walk and work the same way he did before, that he could still wrap his husband up with his entire body when the cold seeped through the walls.

He knew that he most likely would have managed anyway —after all, he knew others which had lost limbs. Such as Mistress Cooper; she had never been kept back by her missing hind leg. She was just as nimble with a hammer, and just as quick with chasing off the younglings that played behind her house. He knew it wouldn’t have been the end of the world, and that he would have been able to adjust.

Still, there were plenty of times he accidentally woke his husband up, as the gratefulness over not having to adjust to it overwhelmed him and he couldn’t stop himself from burrowing his face in his partner’s chest to stop any sounds from escaping. He didn’t want to try to explain to his bewildered and half-asleep husband just how much the gratefulness had overwhelmed him, since he wasn’t quite sure why he was so emotional himself. After all, she had been part of the reason for the wound in the first place, so… but he was. There was something about her, something that made him feel so, so… something. Grateful, thankful, painfully happy.

-

So when he did see her again… a very small part of him tried to tell himself to leave before she saw him, to get help and warn the others. But a vast majority of him took a breath, shifted his legs in the fresh spring grass, and walked up to her.

“Thank you”

Her ears twitched back at the sound, and her wings flared as she startled. She was cleaner than last time he saw her -though, that wasn’t saying much. Her fur was still matted and slightly dirty, and her mane still had tangles and grime; just… less than last autumn. She was still just as —no, more actually- thin and sick-looking though.

She scrambled to get her hooves beneath her, and managed to rise and turn around enough to look at him with scared eyes.

“I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t-” She was still trying to properly get her legs straight and under her body, as she simultaneously backed away from him.

“It’s alright! Please…” He took a step towards her, reaching out with a hoof. “Please don’t leave”

She didn’t. Just stared at him with wide and scared eyes, her legs trembling and wings slightly spread.

He dared to take a few steps closer to her, stopping when she flinched back a bit.

“Thank you,” he said again. “It’s not enough for what you did, but thank you”

She seemed to calm down a little bit, and ducked her head, shifting her wings in a way that reminded him of a foal trying to raise their shoulders to hide their guilty expressions.

“…I said I was gonna leave you ‘lone. But I didn’t, ‘m sorry”

He was once again struck by how her voice sounded; halting and slurred, but young. And scared.

The guilt bit him a bit over how he’d run from her the first time he saw her, but he pushed it down and tried to focus on the now.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I’m not gonna force you or anything. But you don’t have to leave. And …I’m really sorry I got scared and ran before”

He paused, to keep himself from adding yet another “Thank you” to the end of that.

She didn’t react when he walked towards her again; just followed him with one large eye, keeping half her face hidden behind her mane. He walked around so he stood next to her, and looked down at the stone she’d been laying in front of. Neither of them spoke for a while, just looking down at the marker. He was pleased to see that the flowers he’d planted last year had survived and were spurting new leaves. He also noted that someone had left a small pennywort on the stone, and idly wondered who on earth could have placed it; most adults wouldn’t leave a wild flower, but most foals didn’t have a close enough connection to them to spend their time on a gift. He’d have to ask around next time he went to the market.

He took a deep breath. It was still fairly early in the morning, so the air was still cool, and his breath formed clouds in front of his muzzle —but the sun was bright and warm on his back, keeping him comfortable. The sky was completely clear and blindingly blue —it truly was a beautiful spring day, with the fresh grass and delicate new leaves shining green in Celesta’s light. The ground was dotted with purple and yellow of tiny crocuses, as white peeked out from between the trees wherewind flowers blossomed. Dark pink petals slowly drifted down from the blooming crab-apple trees which lined the forest’s edge.

As he mused at the scenery, he felt the large body next to him start to shift from hoof to hoof. He waited on a bit longer, hoping that she’d work up the courage to say or do whatever it was she was nervous about.

She didn’t, just continuing to shift and look around herself with a worried expression.

“Why here?” He finally decided to break the silence when it was clear she wasn’t going to. He tapped the ground in front of him, and nodded to the marker to show that he meant here-here, and not the general area. “What’s special about me and my family?”

She didn’t respond, just shrugged and looked away, letting her mane shield her face from view.

After a few more moments of silence, she motioned towards the stone with a jerky motion of her head.

“Your family… what… what happened to them?” She quickly ducked her head down again. “If i’s alr’ght for me t’ ask”

“…why do you wish to know?”

Her only response was a shrug. After a few seconds of indecision, he decided that it wouldn’t hurt to tell her. He turned back to the stone, tracing the engravings with his eyes.

“Was some years ago.” He sighed as he felt his eyes grow wet -no matter how much time passed, it seemed he would never be over it. He gave a humorless grin and waved his hoof at his face. “That’s when I got these too. Was a fire that-”

Her entire body jerked. Wings flared out, and the burst of wind caused him to stumble.

“F-fire?” Her eyes were wide, her body taunt and looking ready to burst —but her voice was nothing more than a squeak. “On… on midsummer?”

He didn’t know what had caused that reaction. So he wasn’t quite sure what to do —he just stared at her, glanced down at the date written on the marker, and up at her again. She stared back into his eyes, her own wild and pupils shrunk.

“Please-” her voice was pleading, almost a half-whinny overlaying the words. “Please. It didn’t start- it— it —the school?”

..what?

He took a step back. “How… how did you know that?”

Instead of responding, she just collapsed. Her long legs folded under her haphazardly, and her wings just flopped out beside her. It reminded him a bit of how string puppets look when someone drops their handles.

She curled up a bit, hiding her snout under her foreleg, and rocked slightly in the wet grass. He could hear her murmuring something to herself, but it wasn’t loud enough to make out individual words.

He… didn’t know what to do. What are you even supposed to do in this situation? He could just stand there, listening to the soft keening noises and staring at the prone figure.

His Ma would’ve known what to do -even when Grandpa had started to get old-timers’, she’d known just what to say and do to calm him down and back into bed. But, well-

He glanced at the marker again. Then back at the larger body shaking on the ground.

The mare… the filly? She’d looked young. She’d sounded so young. Even as she was bigger than he, she seemed so small. She reminded him a bit of—

He gently walked over to her and laid down, pressed closed to her back. He felt each vertebra of her spine pushed against his side.

Taking a deep breath, he looked over at her hidden face… and started to whicker softly in comfort.



They laid there in the sun for a while. He wasn’t sure how long exactly, but didn’t much care. He just continued the gentle whickers, and pressed himself close to her.

After a while, she managed to squeak out a “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. It’s always alright to cry when you need to” …He wasn’t sure why he added that last part.

“N—no, not that” she sobbed, still hiding her face. “I’m sorry.”

“…what are you sorry for?”

“The fire!” She desperately gasped. “It’s my fault, it’s my fault, they’re dead and it’s my fault!

Later, he would think that maybe he’d been in some type of shock —that sentence should have warranted some reaction. Probably anger, confusion, maybe some fear… anything really. But at the time, he didn’t. He didn’t feel much of anything, just a strange calm that washed over him and pushed his emotions away —he could still feel them, but they were… somewhere else. It was a bit like he was looking in at the situation from the outside, rather than being in it.

So he didn’t yell, or cry or do much of anything. He just stared ahead at nothing. “What happened?” he asked, calmly.

She said something garbled, that he thought contained the word ‘burn’”. It was not very helpful.

“I can’t hear you.” he said, still eerily calm as he watched the scene unfold in front of him from far away. “What happened to my sister?”

She had to breathe for a few second before trying to answer again. “I… she… burned. Was s’posed to speak to… but there isn’t one. They’re just… things. Then…” She snuffled loudly. “I don’t know, I don’t…!”

He waited.

“It worked, right? I… she was s’posed to Listen to Celestia, an’… she connected with the sun. So it worked, didn’t it?”

He didn’t think the question was for him, so he waited.

“‘Flesh burned away as your soul was lit ablaze’…” She suddenly jerked a bit, and shifted her muzzle towards him again, as if remembering that he was there. “…s’how the fire started, probably. The… your sister. When she connected with… she died. She burned, and… burned everything else too.”

She burrowed her snout in under her leg again, hiding her face even more from his eyes. “I’m sorry.” And stopped. Silent, still, she just laid there.

He waited in return, staring at her. But she didn’t continue.

He didn’t understand. The detachment was good, he thought, or he’d be too overwhelmed to think right now. And he had to think, it was important that he understood this —there was something missing. Something obvious.

Swiftword wouldn’t have told his sister to Listen to Celestia if people burned from it —there’d be no one who could tell the tale in that case, and noone would encourage someone else to do it. …then again, he couldn’t say he had the highest confidence in Swiftword’s morals.

Though, he really hoped she was lying —burning was so painful. He’d always… well, invisible smoke kills by making you sleep. So he’d always hoped… that the fire came after. It was what made the most sense too —why else would his Ma and sister not leave when the fire started otherwise?

Besides, the… mare? Filly? Creature? Had apologised first, said the fire was her fault. So, maybe she was lying now, to protect herself. Yes. That made sense. Or why else would she first apologise, and then later try to claim that it was his—



…oh.

And just like that, all his emotions came rushing back, filling his body up. He snapped back into place, now a participant of the story he’d just been observing a few seconds ago. He started to shake as heat and cold warred over his skin, and his lungs, nose and eyes burned as breath forced its way back into him.

Her coat, her mane; hidden under the dirt and grime, they could, they could be… and the line of her jaw —that, that was his grandmother’s. Her ears, he saw his father’s in them. Her muzzle, her fetlocks, the curve of her neck. It wasn’t exact, just altered enough that it hadn’t been obvious. And it wasn’t how he’d thought she… it was different. But… as he looked at the strange mare, with her mishmash of features…

…all he could now see was family staring back at him.

The name. He spoke it in a rush of air, his heart pausing its beating and his ears perked and focused on her. Her name, it was nothing but a whisper, as he didn’t dare to speak it too loud.

She stilled.

He said it again, just slightly louder.

Slowly, slowly, her foreleg was lowered. He stared at her pink -pink! A bit lighter than his memory, but- eyes, but they didn’t look back at him. Her head shifted, and her eyes trailed across the grass in front of her, until… they landed on the grave’s marker. He saw the way she read the names written there, how her eyes carefully followed the runes engraved across the surface.

Then she spoke a simple and clear; “No”.

She took a shuddering breath, and abruptly rose up. He almost fell over in the grass as the back he’d been resting his side against moved away.

“That’s not my name.” The filly stood, towering above his still resting form. Her eyes were still trained on the stone, and her mane and tail waved gently in the breeze.

She turned away. Her back was a tired curve, and her ears slicked back against her thin neck, as she hid her face behind the pinkish brown of her thick mane.

“I’m sorry.”

And she was walking away. Away from the road to the village, out towards the forest. Out to where he might never see her again.

“Wait!” He finally caught up with his thoughts, and he tried to get up, to run after her. His hooves scrambled in the wet dewy grass, as he tried to get his legs to cooperate. Only to hiss in pain as he managed to twist the skin around his scars in the motion.

She didn’t react to the shout, but that hiss made her pause. She still didn’t turn back, but her ears rose and pointed back towards him.

He had to say something. Anything to keep her there a little longer. So he blurted out the first thing which came to mind. “Then, who are you?!”

Her body shifted. Just slightly, barely enough that her side was now facing him. A large wing lifted from its resting position, and he followed the tattered and dirty feathers with his eyes. Until it stopped, in an awkward half-raised hold. Her tail swished a few times, in agitation. From behind the fall of her mane, he could barely make out the movement of her head. She nodded softly back at her side. So he looked.

The sun stared back at him. It was bright yellow and clean, almost shining in the sunlight —a large contrast to the rest of her.

“I…” She stood up straighter. “My name is Celestia.”

She firmly turned to walk again. But before she could place another hoof in front of her—

“No. Who are you?”

She paused. “I… told you. My name is—”

“That’s not what I’m asking! That’s just… your name can be anything, it doesn’t matter! But… please. Who are you?”

“…”

“…I lost my sister once. Don’t— don’t make me go through that again.”

Her voice was so quiet when she spoke. “…but it’s my fault. That you lost her, and …everyone, in the first place.”

“I don’t believe that.” And before she could speak. “—And I don’t care.”

She took deep breaths —her ribs expanding with each inhale, bringing her emaciated state back into the forethought of his mind again.

“I care that my sister is safe, and healthy, and happy, and—and not afraid and in the spirit-damned woods barely surviving,” he told her, the force of the words driving him to stand up again. He dared a step towards her. She didn’t react, didn’t look back at him. So he took another one, slowly approaching her again. “So… please. Who are you?”

“…who am I?”

“…please”

“What if—” She jerkily whirled around to stare into his eyes. Hers were wide and frantic, mimicking the sudden increase in her volume. “—what if I’m a murderer?” she asked. “Someone who, who is responsible for the death of your loved ones?”

She took a step closer to him, her hoof stomping into the ground with a loud thump that shook the ground. “What if… I’m not what you are?” She lifted her wings. Spread them out as wide as she could, feathers fanned, casting her face in shadow as they blotted out the sun. “What if I’m one of the ‘war-crazed pegasi’, who can swoop down and break your neck just to steal some food from your mouth? Who takes slaves and kills without thought?”

Her horn lit up, its golden light reflecting in her intense eyes. “What if I’m a unicorn? An ‘elitist hoofcracker’, who sits atop a throne of stolen wealth, basking in the shine of gold and jewels? Who binds the sun and moon to my whims, while risking the life of the entire world for petty bickering?”

She was right in front of him now, and he had to crane his neck to keep looking into her eyes. They were wet, and tears were rolling down her muzzle again. “What if I’m not who you think I am? ….What if I’m no longer who you remember?” Her eyes closed. “Then… I don’t know. I don’t know who I am.”

“…I can tell you who I am,” he said.

Her eyes opened again, looking at him with such confusion and pain it made his heart ache.

“I am a son. I- I lost my parents, yes. But I am always their son no matter where we go and how far apart we are.” He gave her a slight smile. “…I am also a husband; we married last summer. My friends and some of my family were there, to listen as I vowed to always be his husband. No matter what life throws at us.” he told her, as his smile grew slightly wider at the memory. Then he dropped it, as he continued. “I am a brother. An older brother —though I fear I wasn’t the best at it. Since I didn’t protect my sister when she needed it most.”

She opened her mouth -probably to dispute what he’d just said- so he quickly continued.

“I could see something was wrong with her, that she was afraid of failing her teacher to, frankly, an unhealthy degree. But I didn’t do enough… so I lost her. But—” At this he gave her a determined look. “Like how I am always a son; no matter what happens to her or where she goes or what she is —I am her brother.”

A sudden wave of shame shook him, and he looked away. “Even if I was an absolute moron for a while there.”

But her quickly shook that thought away, and gave her another determined look. “No matter what she is or what her name is, I am her brother.”

After that final statement, they stood in silence. Their breaths billowed out in whilte clouds in front of them, as they both took deep and shaking breaths. Her face was conflicted, eyes darting between him and the stone marker. His was wavering between determination and worry.

Finally he decided to continue. “If you can’t… I’m not going to stop you again. But please… don’t go because you think it’s better for me. Or ‘cause you think you don’t… deserve…” He had to take a few shaking breaths in order to be able to continue. “Don’t you get it? Ha— having my sister back, to know that’s she’s a—alive, that, that's a gift. A greater gift than I can ever ask for.”

She didn’t respond, instead choosing to sink down in front of him to bury her face in his chest, soaking his fur in tears. He sat down as well and tried his best to hug her —he couldn’t quite reach all around her trembling wings, and settled for grasping around her neck.

She still hadn’t answered his question directly… but considering that he could hear her sobbing his birth name over and over, he felt fairly certain he’d been right.

So as she wrapped her wings around him, clinging to him for dear life, he clung right back. Burrowing his face in the thick mane of his sister.



———-


“A-are you sure your… What if he gets upset? Maybe this isn’t… I don’t wanna ruin your..” Celestia rambled a bit, as they were slowly walking back towards their… his…. home. The day had passed in a blur or crying, explanations, sobbing, and clinging to each other as if they were drowning. It was now well after midday, almost halfway to sundown. They might have stayed there longer, but eventually her brother had pulled away and convinced her to go back to his house and eat something. Truth be told, she didn’t even know if she was hungry or not; she was so used to ignoring it at this point. But she’d agreed, a bit reluctantly, because she could hear his stomach rumbling in agitation.

For the first time she can remember, she was grateful it was so far away from the center of the village, and that they could walk back through the woods instead of taking the road. She didn’t know how the rest of the village would react to …everything. Everyone else she’d met since after she came back had had bad reactions. To put it mildly. She shuddered a bit at the memory of running through the forest with hooves thundering behind her and voices screaming out words she didn’t want to think about.

Even… even her brother had been scared when he first saw her. She didn’t quite blame him —she knew she was a freak now, of course she’d scare people. But she was afraid of… she could deal with her friends and cousins being afraid, but if they tried to… she wasn’t sure she could take that.

And now they would go tell her brother’s husband. What if he got scared, or angry? Would— would her brother still want her to stay if he didn’t—

Her thoughts were interrupted by her brother. He turned his face to her, and gave her a reassuring smile.

“If he does something, he’ll be the one ruining our marriage, not you,” he said. “I… I can’t promise that he won’t be afraid.” He looked down. “I mean, I was. And I am more sorry for that than you can imagine.” He turned to face her again. “But, you’re my sister. And on top of that, you aren’t an adult yet —that means I’m responsible for you. We’re a package deal, and if he can’t accept the ‘you’ part of the ‘me’ package, our marriage isn’t gonna work”

He trotted up ahead of her, and turned to walk backwards so he could look into her eyes. “But I know him. I know you’re afraid, and I-” He swallowed. “I know you’ve been through some scary stuff during these years. But I promise —it’s going to be alright. He might be scared, and— he might not trust that you’re you right away. But he won’t hurt you, and he won’t hurt me.”

She still wasn’t convinced , and it must have shown on her face because her brother reached up and nuzzled her cheek. He had to rear a bit and walk on his hindlegs for a few steps to reach.

“Trust me, things will work out,” he said as he pulled back.

She nodded despite her worried feelings.

He smiled back at her, and moved to walk alongside her again. She let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding; walking backwards on two legs is difficult in most circumstances, but even more so when the ground is covered in undergrowth, rocks and roots.

“Though, one issue we might have —I’m not sure I’ll be able to convince him that your name being ‘Celestia’ isn’t blasphemous,” he said, thoughtfully.

“You’re really gonna call me that?” She asked, surprised.

“Yeah?” He seemed equally nonplussed. “That’s what you said your name is now. Or was that just because you didn’t want me to recognize you?”

She stepped over a fallen tree, sparing her from having to answer for a few seconds as she thought. Her brother had to jump.

“Maybe,” she finally said. “I just… I can’t explain. I just wanna diff’rent name, I don’t wanna be…” She sighed. “I dunno. I don’t feel like my old name anymore.”

“Then that’s fine —as I said, you’re still you, even if the, uh. The old you has changed into… a new you?” He gave her a sheepish smile. “…That sounded better in my head.”

She surprised herself by giggling at his stumbling words, making her brother’s smile even wider. “And besides, I’ve got a new name now, so I don’t see why we can’t match!” he said, happily.

“You’ve a new name?” she asked, more shocked than she probably should have been. Considering his age and that he was now married, she felt she should have expected it. “Do you mean, um, marriage-name or are you finished with your apprenticeship?”

“Both!” He replied, cheerfully. “You’re looking at a fully trained, married, journeyhorse now.” He paused his trotting, turned to her, and gave a low sweeping bow. ”Master Ashlar Havenfeast at your service, Mistress Celestia”

She couldn’t help but giggle again. “You sound like a holiday.”

He rose up from his bow and stuck his tongue out at her. “My husband’s a baker; you try to come up with a marriage-name that fits both of us.”

She blew a raspberry at him in response.

She’d thought he’d say something snarky at that, like he always did, but instead a strange expression flitted across his face. A mix of sadness, happiness and guilt that disappeared as quickly as it’d come, leaving behind what was clearly an attempt at a neutral expression. Though, his sudden sniffing and shaky intake of breath betrayed its falsehood clearly.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, suddenly worried that she’d said something bad.

But he just shook his head, and gave her a watery smile. “No, no I’m alright. I just…”

He laughed, and reared up to give her a hug. She was confused, but pressed her muzzle into his back in response.

“I just… I’ve missed you. So, so much, you can’t imagine,” he finally said after a few seconds, squeezing her tight.

She squeezed back. “‘Course I can… I missed you too.”

Eventually, they pulled apart and continued their slow trot back towards home.

“But really,” she said, deciding to continue their previous conversation. “‘M not fully trained. You don’t think people’s gonna have a problem with me picking my adult name now?”

“Well, I can’t say that no one's gonna mind. But… Pa did say ponies usually pick when they get their Marks, not when they’re finished with their apprenticeship. So, I think it’s perfectly alright for you to do it now.”

She nodded, still a bit hesitant.

He seemed to think for a few seconds, before a slightly evil grin spread across his muzzle. He nudged her folded wing with a shoulder. “And, hey —if anyone has a problem with that, I always have my secret weapon I can use against them, remember?”

She didn’t, not when put on the spot like that.

As he saw her confused face he continued, eyes still sparkling with mischief. “Perfect bite-height”

Then, she did. And almost immediately wished she hadn’t.

“Ew! Why’d you say that, now I can’t unthink it!”

He laughed at her, and she nipped at his closest ear in response. So he gave her a light shove and took off running —she took chase, and was quickly catching up to him with her now longer legs.

He did not expect that. Back when they used to play tag, he’d always outpaced her with no problem. But now…

With a victory laugh she tackled him, and he went down with a shout in surprise.

For some moments they laid laughing on the ground. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this light —the closest was the first time she’d managed to actually fly, but even then… no, it didn’t even hold a candle.

He finally got up with a grunt, and shook out the debris from his fur. Turning to her, he held out a hoof. “Come on, we can’t lay here on the ground forever. Let’s go home.”

She smiled back. Grabbed the outstretched hoof, and pulled herself up next to her brother.