Kinganon: Shine Forever

>For a time during sunrise and sunset, both your daughters are awake, by their new schedule
>A welcome convergence, after a night of little sleep.
>You sit on the edge of the too-large bed
>One hand on Terra’s side, rising and falling with her steady, shallow breathing, serene in sleep.
>At least her pillow had dried hours ago.
>Yours was still a bit damp, since you only let it get that way once Terra had fallen into slumber.
>See, the bed wasn’t too large due to physical size.
>The bed was too large because, as of last night, your two daughters aren’t sharing it.
>It felt weird at first, but after over a decade, everyone sharing a single bed had felt nice.
>Now that the arrangement had returned to what you should consider normal, reflecting your old world, it felt too empty.
>It had hammered home the fact that Celestia and Luna weren’t the children you’d known just twenty-four hours prior.
>Your little girls were long gone.
>Beautiful mares had taken their place, yes.
>But no longer little girls.
>Now that twilight flushes away the darkness of night, maybe you should talk to them about that.
>You take your hand from Terra and stand, making sure the motion didn’t disturb her sleep.
>Then you turn for the door, walking out of the suite you two had been granted – had been built for you and left untouched for a millennium – and facing the ponies belonging to some minor tribe you’d never seen before.
>The bat-like features unnerved you, but they seemed more competent than the guards that stood around during the day.
>Because more mares?
>You don’t want to think about that.
“Hi.”
>The ponies were already at attention, but became even moreso when you spoke.
>Weird.
“Can you point me to where the, uh, Princesses are?”
>”I can take you there myself, Sire.”
“Oh, no need. Just asking for directions.”
>The guardsmare provides them, and soon you’re approaching a balcony overlooking Canterlot, and the country beyond, fields and meadows and trees starting to catch morning light.
>Celestia and Luna sits there, backs to you.
>They’re leaning on each other, Luna’s head against Celestia’s neck, each with a wing around the other.
>The sight stops you in your tracks.
>Your daughters were never ones for quiet contemplation with each other. Their closest moments were full of energy and joy.
>Ah, but your one day lasted a thousand years.
>Long time for things to change.
>That’s why you were here.
>You resume your stride, shoes shuffling against the floor.
>You may as well have cleared your throat; two differently-colored ears swiveled towards you.
>Celestia turns her head over her sister’s, lifting her chin to clear Luna’s horn, and in the moment you see that profile view of her upturned face, you’re stunned.
>She’s drop-dead gorgeous.
>Another thing that must have happened during that infinite day.
>How many stallions must have taken her in all these years?
>And you still don’t have grandkids?
>But that questions flee when you get closer.
>Despite her smile, her cheeks are tear-streaked.
>Your fatherly instincts kick in, quickening your pace, reaching your arms out towards her and her sister when you close. Their wings return to their own backs, giving you room.
“Hey now, what’s wrong?”
>You kneel between them like you always did, arms around their necks, but now Celestia’s taller than your kneeling height and Luna can meet you eye-to-eye.
>Luna’s features are more delicate than Celestia’s, and stunning in their own right.
>You made these masterpieces of living art, you and Terra.
>”Nothing’s wrong, Father,” Luna answers.
>”We were talking about how happy we are to have you and Mom back.”
>You smile and hug the two to you tighter, eliciting soft nickers from both, Celestia nuzzling at the top of your head.
>”You two are just like the day we thought we’d lost you. Like nothing’s changed,” Celestia continues.
“I… I wanted to talk to you about that. About time.”
>The two share a glance in front of you, then look back to you expectantly.
“You’re both so… big now.”
>”Ah.”
“What do you mean ‘ah’, Lulu? It’s- I- even here with you…”
>You shake your head. How can you make them understand?
“I’m right here with you, and I still miss my little girls.”
>You hug them close to you again, and once more their wings are around each other, this time by extension you as well.
“It’s hit your mom pretty hard, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t effect me either. You’re all grown up, now. We missed that growing up.”
>”We-” Celestia begins, then frowns. “When you saved us, we lost you. We looked everywhere for where you’d gone. A lot of our accomplishments happened during that search. You were always in our foremost thoughts. The deeper we got into that, into helping others, the less we could search. We rationalized it by saying it’s what you’d want us to do-”
“And you’d be right!”
>”-but eventually we gave up hope. And now you’re back.” She shakes her head, then. “But this answer to our long-past prayers to end our suffering just started a new one for you.”
“I wouldn’t call it that. Not suffering. You two have become something we could never even have dreamed. But despite everything you’ve done… you can’t give us back the time we’ve lost with you.”
>You laugh then, short and bitter.
“You made something incredible of that time with us you lost, you made it worth it. We just had our time with you taken from us in an instant.”
>You remove your arm from Luna’s neck, holding it out in front of you about three feet off the ground.
“Luna, you were only this tall yesterday. Just yesterday, for me! With a cute little pout on your face whenever I treat you like the filly you were. Puffing yourself up to this entire minuscule height to look bigger.”
>You put your arm around her again, leaning into her, looking out to the horizon.
“Complaining when I carry you inside to bed at night, but I go all soft, so we spend an hour just looking up at the stars. Me sitting in the fallow section of the field, you in my arms. Luna, from my perspective, the last time we did that was just two nights ago. So save me the ‘ah’. I’ll never get that again.”
>She drops her gaze from the horizon to the floor. “Sorry, Father. It was inconsiderate.” She looks like she’s going to say more, but stops and shakes her head.
“Discord punished us for protecting you; you got us back eventually, but we’ll never get back the time we lost with you.”
>”If I may, with respect…”
“Celly, you never showed anyone or anything respect for your whole life until just yesterday, as far as I’m concerned.”
>She smiles, but it’s not the fun-loving grin of being caught in a white lie like she used to flash around so readily. It’s an understanding smile to reassure another, which looks so natural on her face despite your inability to associate it with her. “Discord took that time from you, but he couldn’t take us. That’s what Luna and I were discussing. We lost our time with you but you came back to us. We didn’t lose you. Our lives with you were just… delayed.”
“We couldn’t raise our own children!”
>”You already had.”
>You furrow your brows, then look to her in confusion.
>”Not as long as you may have liked, but you and Mom raised us well all the same. All we did, we did in memory of you. What we thought you’d want us to do. What we thought would honor you. You made us who we are today, even in your absence. And look what you’ve brought to the world, through us.”
>Their horns are glowing now, you realize. You’re not sure how long they had been.
>The sun’s peeking over the horizon, now, bathing the world in a warm fiery glow.
>Then it hits you.
“No. No way.”
>Celestia looks at you inquisitively, but Luna’s focused on the horizon once more.
“You two, alone?”
>”Just myself, if I must,” Celestia replies. “But yes. One of many things that have changed. Look out across the city as it rises.”
>You do so, shoving to the back of your mind the fact your daughters alone had so easily overtaken the greatest mages of your era.
>All the gold detailing on Canterlot’s buildings catch the new day’s nascent sunlight. It throws a glimmer across the scene so energetic it could be described as furious. A seething, building light sparkles across the entire cityscape.
>You’ve been talking much about what was built in an abstract sense. The fostering of things, a legacy created.
>This is a grand physical construction, actual objects arranged and prepared. Despite the city’s at-times chaotic architecture, as you look upon the scene, it feels like it was built for a purpose.
>”You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to show you and Mom this, Dad.”
>As Celestia shifts so she’s partially behind her, with her neck craned forward and resting on your shoulder, head low near your chest. The glow of her horn forward of your face dims as the sun’s disc finally clears the horizon.
>Suddenly the city before you is on fire, the sun’s angle now just right to set every rooftop ablaze with reflected light. It should be blinding, but the delicate and deliberate spacing of the golden spirals and elements ensures there’s just enough room for the whites and purples to show through, creating a bright backdrop for the light to play against, and thinning it out just enough to stop well short of painful.
>“This golden future we made for you.”
>”Shining,” Luna adds, “as we have in your absence. Shining for you.”
>”We’re as eternal as the sun and moon,” Celestia continues. “We are them. We’re overjoyed we can shine on you now. We cherished every memory of you and Mom raising us. Now we want to give back to you. We’ll give you all we can.”
>In their light, the city they’d founded continued to glow. Not as intense as that one moment, but the light warmed your heart in a way you’d never known before.
>Luna’s head matched Celestia’s, over your other shoulder. “So please, as you did before, shine for us again. It hurts to see you so sad.”
“This future of yours, it’s just… hard to discern where we fit into it.”
>”Whatever you make of it, we’ll be happy,” Celestia says, finally lifting her head from your shoulder and resuming her original position. You reach up to scratch one of her ears like she loved when she was young, a couple days past, while your other hand busies itself with one of Luna’s wings.
>And you think about what she’s said.
“You’re eternal, huh? Well I think your mom and I will be happy if you can do all this-”
>You wave a hand across the glistening cityscape.
“-and shine forever. But if you’re asking…”
>You look between the two of them, flashing a grin.
“Where’s my little alicorn grandchildren?”
>Luna looks mortified, but Celestia finally cracks one of those playful grins of her own. “There’s a couple ponies I want you to meet when they arrive.”