//------------------------------//
// Chapter 20 
// Story: Endless Sky 
// by Algorhythm 
//------------------------------//


-20-


The moon slowly descended towards the horizon, casting a faint glow through the window over Rainbow’s bed. Normally, she would have gotten irate and rolled over but she hadn’t slept a wink all night. Something wasn’t sitting well with her. While it was... nice to see Gilda again, the stark contrast between the gryphon from flight camp and her “volunteer” position as a guard was making it hard to adjust.
Sure they spoke for a while - talking until at least midnight - but it was filled with awkward pauses and long periods of silence. 
A light snore interrupted her thoughts. At least someone got to sleep.
She heard a light click at the door. Her heart started racing. A thief? An assassin? Her legs shifted under the blankets, slowly preparing to go airborne.
Her facade nearly collapsed when she watched the emperor slip into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. What is he doing here?
The emperor crossed the room, casting shadows on the wall as he passed the fireplace that made it clear he was armed. Rainbow swallowed hard, thinking of all of the nasty ways she could be punished for striking the Emperor. 
Instead, he gently shook Gilda, rousing her from her slumber. “Gilda,” he whispered.
“Ugh. Dash, it's not even light ou-” She stifled a scream, nearly jumping out of the bed. “My Emperor, I- I ap-”
He raised a claw to her lips. “Please. Withhold the formalities. They are unnecessary this evening.”
“Yes, my-”
“Emerus.”
Gilda cleared her throat. “Yes, Emerus.”
He smiled genuinely for the first time in ages. “I have something for you,” he said. Emerus reached behind him, undoing the fasteners on the blade strapped to his back. It fell to the bed, still waiting in its sheath.
“Every Emperor that has been chosen has been a master craftsman and an expert in combat. Thus, we ensure Justice lives on through our skill. We reforge the blade with our greatest masterpiece. It prints a part of our skill, our magic within. So it never breaks and never grows dull.”
Gilda stared wide-eyed at the blade as if it were a death warrant. There was nothing more tempting than flying straight through the window and away from this place forever. But the sword held her frozen in fear. 
“You know what it means to reforge Justice.”
The words cut into her. Of course she knew. It was the curse of the Emperor - the price of peace.
“You have a month to live.”
The emperor closed his eyes. “Yes.”
Gilda looked on the verge of tears. Rainbow tried to look away, but she was so transfixed on the conversation, she couldn’t. Gilda never cried. Ever.
“Why me?” Gilda asked. Anger started to well within her, “Out of all the gryffons in the world, why did it pick me?! I never asked to become Empress!” 
He gave her a hard stare, forcing her to shrink back into the covers. “The Emperor is always chosen to avoid power struggles. No family has ever had the position passed down from generation to generation. Gryffons of all different trades and backgrounds have become Emperor, not because they want to, but because they were chosen. They have potential. Don’t even think for a minute that I wanted this position. I was happy enough to be a blacksmith, but then I was chosen.”
Emerus paused, lowering his voice and softening his gaze. “Lorius created a weapon to bring peace and to keep peace. So we may never need to hold a weapon again. A simple farmer who lost everything has given us peace for thousands of years.
“His prophecy was a warning that peace could not be enforced forever. That there will be a time when it shall be necessary to make sacrifices to keep us safe in our homes. He knew that you would bring peace to these troubled times.”
Gilda looked down at the sword once more. “How do you know?”
He smiled again and chuckled to himself. “Magic, Gilda. It guides us gryphons more than you know.” Emerus took a deep breath, “Now. Take the blade. It is your destiny.”
She reached out her claw, hesitating a moment, before closing her fingers over it. A pale glow permeated the space around her, weaving around her limbs and torso, before fading into nothing.
“The blade is yours, my Empress. May it strike true on your journey as I will hold for as long as I must, until you return.”
Emerus rose from the bed and bowed respectfully. 
“How will they think you’re still the emperor?”
He raised his own sword - showing the same hilt as Justice. “So long as I don’t need to use force, we will be fine. You leave in two hours.”
He walked to the door, opening it halfway before pausing. A small silence settled over the room. “Don’t look back.”


--*--


The streets of Canterlot were full of controversy. News had leaked to the general public about Discord’s apparent control over the government. Refugees that managed to get through the border crossing spread their own experiences of the hesitant approach their princess was taking to the crisis, as well as what it was doing to the home they left behind. Eventually these tales spawned more rumors - most of which with little fact involved - and eventually, fired up debate.
The majority of citizens applauded her peaceful use of the Equestrian Guard to increase security along the border and in major cities. But there were many veterans of the Civil War that were highly critical of her actions. Pulling on experience, they would’ve rather seen a strike on the northern capital, Stalliongrad, immediately retaking the territory and pushing Discord out.
Unfortunately some ponies were migrating south towards Zebra territory, trying to get as far away from the seemingly impending conflict as possible. It was jamming all kinds of transportation, which earth ponies and unicorns needed to use to go north. Celestia was forced to go to other cities to calm the panic, which settled in rather quickly. She was starting to become ragged from adding long distance travelling to her duties in raising both sun and moon. The nightmares made it worse.
Cunning ran a hoof through his mane in thought. At the moment, he was an ill-disposed Bright Light, quarantined to his office. Being “sick” from the stress was rather convenient for completing his newest plan - one he was still adjusting from being a thrown together pile of manure.
The back of the room had a new arrangement which was a bit simple for the task at hoof. Four small orbs had been set up in the form of a perfect square, accompanied and surrounded by intricate drawings that curved around the floor. A chain hung from the ceiling, slowly rocking back in forth under the weight of the restrained pony - or more appropriately, the restrained corpse.
“I’m so glad I kept you around. You provide me with... inspiration,” he said coyly.
Cunning stared into the mirror, looking at the modifications made to his persona.
“It seems I’ve put on some weight. Either that, or you’ve been on a rigorous diet. Have you started rotting?”
A spout of magic poked and prodded the cadaver, inspecting it for any damage or signs of decay. It swung in a different direction with each test. Eventually it came to a slow stop.
Cunning was not happy with his inspection. The legs were practically destroyed from recent aging, the tail hairs would need to be regrown, and the heart... that was non-existent. It was good that the brain, at least, was intact, kept active - if mindless - by magic alone. That saved a lot of time.
He sighed, “It’s such a shame I can’t just kill somepony to bring you back. But, I can’t risk stealing the book from Celestia’s quarters, lest I bring her running back home. Walking in on this mess would most certainly blow any cover I have.”
There was a knock at the door. Cunning reached out with his magic, gently probing the mind of the pony intruding on his thoughts. It was met immediately with a familiar sense of subservience. One of his weak-minded guards, come to bring some sort of meal.
The door opened, allowing the guard to step inside, before Cunning made sure it was shut properly. “Dinner, my lord.”
“Nine o’clock already? It seems like minutes since you last came in. Set it down on the desk.”
The guard nodded. His glazed-over eyes stared towards his destination. He set the plate on the table before bowing and leaving the room.
The warm smell of fresh tomatoes filled the room. He patted the cadaver on the back. “If you don’t mind, I’m feeling rather peckish. Perhaps in a week, you’ll be bringing my dinner to me. If I work quickly, it’ll be even sooner.”
Cunning sat down on the other end of the table facing the pony corpse. It was still swinging back and forth from his touch. He pulled over a bowl of hot water to wash his hooves, before trading the bowl for his dinner. He lifted the sandwich with his magic.
“In fact, I expect you to be ready far before the princess returns at the end of the week. You’ll get to meet her, I’m sure. But after that, I have a feeling she’ll be taking an extended vacation. I hear she likes exploring caves and... small spaces.”


--*--


The Manehatten skyline brightly glowed under the full moon. The magnificent pillars of stone and steel acted as street lamps for the delivery pegasi that still worked deep into the night. Ponies crowded the streets, retreating to nightly jobs or various forms of entertainment - movies, bars, even late night operas. Even without the light of day, these skyscrapers seemed to keep the city alive.
No wonder why they call it the city that never sleeps, Celestia thought, looking out through her hotel window.
Sleep was not forthcoming tonight. It wasn’t a fear of attack - no, she had many guards patrolling the halls and the skies. The whole hotel floor had been reserved by the Captain to ensure any potential invader would have to find which room she was in before he - or she - was overwhelmed.
Unfortunately, it was the nightmares keeping her up into the wee hours of the night. Grueling, terrible nightmares that had her screaming in her sleep and waking in a cold sweat. They were almost real, tangible - as if she were there in that moment before being ripped back to the peaceful world she desperately tried to maintain.
Her anxiety welled in the pit of her stomach. Peace. It was becoming a much harder concept to grasp. The more she tried to remove their concerns, the more worried the populus became. As they worried more, some panicked and fled south. Zebra diplomats were already reporting a massive influx of ponies entering their lands, which was slowly moving towards a dangerous loss in food stores. As droughts were common, losing built-up supplies could result in mass starvation. That would eventually lead to a conflict in the south.
There was a short knock on the door.
“Come in,” she called.
The door opened and closed behind her, followed by a set of light hoofsteps on the floor. The smell of ink and paper seemed to permeate the air, followed by a rather pleasant hint of lavender.
Quick Wit, she thought.
“I’m sorry to disturb you Princess, I only wanted to drop off a few scrolls,” Quick Wit said tentatively.
Celestia smiled as she turned to face her scribe, “I was just taking a look at the town. Quite busy in the evenings, as usual. Yet still, I seem to underestimate just how alive the city is at night.” She enveloped the scrolls with her magic, guiding them onto the desk by the window, before setting them down. “Have you been to Manehatten before?”
“Well, on Tuesday we stopped by-”
The princess rolled her eyes playfully. “Before you were my scribe.”
Quick Wit fumbled with a few half-shaped words as she blushed. She took a deep breath before responding. “Once. My family wanted to take a trip to see the Statue of Harmony, Central Park, and Broadneigh. We got caught in the middle of a rainstorm before getting too far into the park - Dad was always terrible with directions.”
“That is still rather amusing after all these years. He could never fix the stove after one of his mishaps.” Celestia smiled. “I’m still surprised I hired a head chef that couldn’t read a recipe.”
Quick Wit looked mortified. “You knew he didn’t follow the directions?”
“Well, after that mishap with the Pistachio-Pickle Bunt Cake, I figured it out.”
The scribe looked like she was going to faint, throw up, or both.
“It turned out that he couldn’t properly read some letters - simple dyslexia. I believe that was the result of your mother’s first prank on him. I would say it’s the oddest mishap I’ve seen make two ponies fall in love, but I’d be lying.” Celestia stifled a giggle at her rather confused reaction. “You should ask them sometime.”
Celestia thought she heard Quick Wit mutter something like, “not on a full stomach”, but ignored it. “So. You were saying something about a rainstorm?”
“Huh? Oh, right.” Quick Wit sat on one of the small cushions in the room, “We ended up seeing a play on Broadneigh - Into the Wood, by Song Time. I don’t remember much of it, but I do remember the spectacular sunset after the play.
“The rain was already finished, so we hoofed it to the park. The way it passed behind the buildings was indescribably beautiful - almost like taking a comb to the sky and making small lines of light.”
Celestia smiled and nodded. Dusk and Dawn were just like Quick Wit as a filly - amazed by all of the simple things in the world. A sunset, buildings made by pony hooves, even art, regardless of whether they understood its meaning.
Her smile faded. In one night that was taken away from them. Dawn had been gone for almost three weeks, while Dusk was forced to watch her family and world come crashing down. Nothing outside the city seemed safe for her, except, perhaps, for Ponyville. All she could do was study and wander around Canterlot. At least she could see Rarity from time to time. But she needed more.
“Quick Wit?”
She looked up from her hooves. “Yes, Princess?”
“Can you dictate something for me?”
“My quills are in my room. I can go get them if you’d like.”
Celestia waved a hoof, “No need for that. Just write a letter to Cloud Skimmer. I would like her to accompany Dusk and myself to Ponyville, where I will be re-enrolling her in school. Especially since we have increased the guard in Ponyville substantially. If I am not able to appear home at the end of the week, she should do so at night, along with Granite and Nightwind. She is not to tell anypony else of the decision. I will inform Bright Light of the changes.”
“Of course, Princess. But... why the sudden change?”
Celestia rubbed her chin with a hoof, “She deserves some time with her friends. I’m sure they will be happy to see her again.”
“I see. Is that all?”
“Yes. Thank you for spending some time with me. It was a nice break from all these speeches and war-room discussions.”
“It was my pleasure. You should try to get some rest, Princess.”
“I will.”
Quick Wit left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Celestia returned to the window, her smile slowly fading from her face. There was more to her decision, but it was... personal. 
She needed the childhood Celestia barely had.