55. The Last Offer
Celestia was alone.
Sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows into the council chamber, landing on the rumpled map that still covered the great table. The multicolored flags, once positioned carefully all across the country, now lay strewn about without order or meaning. Violet flags had been cast from the table, and still rested on the floor. What little organization there was could be found in the sole remaining yellow pennant, standing tall in the center of Canterlot.
The Princess sat on her throne, staring down at the map. The emptiness of the room pressed down on her like a blanket. Somewhere, faintly, she heard a knock.
“I won’t lie, Princess, the situation looks dire.” Windstreak surveyed the map.
The knock repeated. She ignored it. Maybe it would go away.
“Twenty-five hundred ponies against ten thousand griffons?” Gerald looked apprehensive. “Those are long odds.”
“But it might work,” said Windstreak, striding across the map.
It had been nearly four months. To the immortal Celestia, time passed quickly. So why did it feel like a decade had passed since she had last seen her Firewings?
“I had hoped this conflict would not turn us against each other so soon…” She closed her eyes in pain. “Order the third division to secure Easthill and hold those iron mines.”
None of the third had returned. The first casualties in the war, but far from the last.
“It’s the right decision, Princess,” said Windstreak softly.
Her eyes opened, hard as steel. “No decision that leads to the slaughter of Equestrian citizens is the right one.”
Yet every decision she’d made had led to death. And the price was being paid by all of her loyal subjects. She remembered the search party returning from the woods with Dawn Sparkle’s body, lacerated and stiff. A dark seed of anger began to grow in her heart.
“Emmet’s had his eye on Norlund for years.”
“Then it’s fairly obvious what he’s planning to do with that army of his.”
She gave a grim nod. “We’ll have to stop him as well. We can’t let Emmet terrorize the north.”
The main host of Canterlot’s troops had marched not long after, heading west to guard the crossroads. All the best and brightest officers and enlisted ponies had set off from the city, and weeks later there had still been no word. She blamed the news blackout… officially. But, deep inside, she knew they were dead. Her lips twitched, restraining a snarl.
“Celerity will need help to hold that bridge.” Windstreak’s eyes lit up. “Send us.”
“Could so few of you truly make a difference?” Would sending her guard lead only to their deaths as well?
The chamber’s tall door creaked as it opened. The soft pad of hooves on the carpet approached.
“Each Firewing fights like ten ponies, and the Cloudsdale pegasi are going to need real soldiers to organize them.”
She sighed. “Very well, then, Windstreak. Go, with my blessing.”
But her blessing had proved poor armor against the spears and swords of the griffons. All her empty words and promises had come crashing down around her, her nation crumbling beneath her hooves.
She grasped the letter and unrolled it with a sickness in her heart. The words on the parchment struck her like arrows.
Trellow has fallen. The griffons are moving north. The Army of Whitetail has broken and fled. There were few survivors. I regret to inform you that the Duchess was not among them. The Firewings have taken heavy casualties as well, but we have not had time to make a full accounting of our losses. The griffons have dragons, Princess. Two of them, at least. We never stood a chance. We now make for Whitewall City, where we will make our stand against the griffons. I will send news if I can, but the griffons will surely cut us off soon. No matter the odds, we will fight to the end, Princess.
Your loyal servant, as always, Captain Windstreak Firemane Strudel.
Since that letter, nothing. Her entire guard retinue had vanished into the griffon horde. Her most loyal, her most trusted, and her most beloved subjects were gone. How long would she send others to die for her?
“Your Majesty?”
And then there was little Rye Strudel. Her soldiers and the Firewings had pledged to defend their nation, sworn to serve even if it would cost them their lives. Rye was just a commoner, a young pony caught up in events larger than himself, dragged along and sucked under by the current. She’d talked him into journeying into a frozen hell he could not possibly have been prepared for. The journey to deliver the treaties should only have taken a month at most. By now it was clear that he had become another sacrifice for Equestria, giving his life because she had asked him for it.
Of all the deaths, his hurt the worst. Not because of who he was, but because of what he represented: the innocents, the common folk, the ponies of Equestria who had no business fighting a brutal war against an implacable enemy. And they were the ones paying the price—Easthill, Cloudsdale, Westermin. How many tens of thousands had already died or been enslaved by the griffons?
“Your Majesty?” The voice sounded nervous. She continued to ignore it.
Luna, how did it come to this? Ever since I’ve been on my own, it seems every choice I make makes things worse. I need you back, my sister. I’m half of a whole pony. If we were together, this invasion would never have happened. Why, Luna? Why couldn’t you forgive?
She’d seen the bitterness in her sister’s eyes, the hate that sent her into darkness, the fury and jealousy that had created Nightmare Moon and ended an era.
It was the reason she and her sister had taken their near-mortal forms, had shut themselves off from the power they wielded in the beginning of the world. Divine anger was a destructive force beyond imagining. Empathy was impossible for such a being, as Nightmare Moon had proven. So Celestia had sealed away centuries of pain, frustration, and rage, choosing instead to love her ponies. And as a result, everyone she loved was dead.
Perhaps it was time to stop holding it in.
“Your Majesty, I’m sorry, but this is important.”
She looked to her left to find a young, dark blue earth pony in ill-fitting armor. She struggled for a moment to remember his name. Fritz, that was it, Fritz Bolgar. A new-minted ensign, one of the latest crop of officers. Are we so thinly stretched for troops that they send ensigns to see me?
He bowed, and began, “Your Majesty, there is—”
“Tell me, Fritz, do you have any siblings?”
Nonplussed, he blinked. “Yes, Your Majesty. My older brother.”
Celestia looked up at the stained glass window, staring at the shapes of the twin alicorns that adorned it. “Have the two of you ever fought?”
“All the time, Your Majesty.” Fritz looked uncomfortable; he clearly had no idea what she was talking about. “But we always make up in the end. That’s what siblings do.”
She felt a slight glimmer of hope. “What’s his name?”
“Jauffre, Your Majesty.”
The glimmer died. She recognized the name. She’d sent Jauffre west to the crossroads.
Fritz’s ear flicked. “Um, there’s…”
“Yes. Yes, I’m sorry. What was it?”
“There’s a small group of griffons outside the city walls. Their leader says he wants to talk to you, and you alone.”
Celestia exhaled slowly. “No doubt they’re here to demand our surrender.”
“Are… are we going to?”
“No.” Celestia’s eyes narrowed to slits. “No more concessions. No more dithering. No more holding back.” She realized now that the forgiveness she wanted would never come. The blood on her hooves could only be washed away with fire. She would burn her way to expiation.
“Bring my armor.”
* * *
The city gates opened, revealing the large fields that lay beyond. In the distance, she could see a group of griffons, a single standard bearing a white flag waving above them. Celestia told her guards to wait inside the city, and shut the gate behind her. It groaned as it closed, and she began to approach the party of Gryphan emissaries.
The cold weight of her armor brought her back, back beyond the memory of any alive today except the dragons. The skymetal was as light as a cloud, and harder than dragonscales. It was beyond the skill of any mortal craftsmen, a gift from Gerios, the god of forges, the divine armorer in the creation wars. She had not worn it in over five thousand years, a time before she and Luna had left the Earth. It gleamed in the noon sunlight, the colors of the metal shifting like her mane.
The snow hissed underhoof as she walked, melting beneath her. There were a dozen or so griffons, armed and armored, though their swords were sheathed. As she arrived, their leader folded his wings back and smiled up at her.
He bowed. “Princess Celestia.” She said nothing, simply gazing at him. The griffon blinked. “I am Major Dewblade. I speak for General Pyrus Shrikefeather.”
“Then speak.” Celestia’s tail flicked. The snow around her was fizzling and steaming quietly. The griffon raised an eyebrow and watched for a moment, then turned his gaze back to her face.
“Let’s get right down to it. You’ve lost this war, you know that.” The griffon’s beak twisted in a coy smile. “We’ve killed three or four of your armies by this point, I’ve lost track. Trellow is ours. Whitewall has fallen, the last few remnants of your guards destroyed with it. We control the entire south and much of the west. Norhart has already begun to fall before us. Now, our army is only a day away from Canterlot.”
The griffon’s tail began swaying back and forth. He scratched the ground through the snow as he talked. “Your city is going to fall, one way or another. Whether its inhabitants survive that fall is up to you. If you surrender, unconditionally, right now, then the General is prepared to let all of you live. Your citizens will be sent south, of course, to work the fields and provide other sources of labor, but they’ll be alive. And you can continue to keep the day and night.”
The tiny seed of anger in her heart had sprouted. She kept the rage hidden behind a cool mask, but she felt the heat of it burn from her hooves to her ears. The griffon tilted his head sardonically. “Don’t think you’re irreplaceable. Unicorns can do your job well enough if you don’t cooperate. Make it easier on yourselves and give up.”
Princess, please protect keep please Princess keep safe please bring safe help me Princess please
The faint voices grew at the edge of her mind. It had been a long, long time since she had heard the prayers of her people. Divine power she’d restrained herself from using for three millennia was once again bubbling up. The mantle of weak mortality she had assumed for so long was falling away.
Please take care my of help please need sister son daughter us care please safety protect
The griffon was still talking. Celestia could see him, more clearly than any other could. She watched as he withered before her, growing old as all mortals did, second by second, slipping toward an inevitable death.
Protect us keep us safe save us keep protect save
All of them were. She looked at the mortals with contempt. The griffon’s mouth moved, but the noise was so beneath her attention that it didn’t even register.
Help us save us from hang on we’re coming back please protect save keep us safe stop the griffons stop the griffons just a little longer stop them help us save us
Her consciousness expanded. The city behind her was a pit of fear and desperation, the calls of her people echoing in her mind. Just beyond the horizon she could feel the terror and excitement of an army on the eve of battle, a giant horde stretching a vast distance south. They were a lust for blood, gold, and flesh, a savage darkness that had swept across the land and was now held back only by one single light.
But it was the light of the sun.
Save us from the griffons
The mortal before her folded his arms and tapped a claw on his feathered elbow. “Are you even listening? I’m offering you your lives.”
An enormous flash of light erupted, a new star blooming on the field. Celestia’s eyes vanished into disks of blazing white. Her skin, once the color of cream, burned hot and bright and colorless, all traces of pink washed away in the flood of light. Her mane and tail had turned to writhing clouds of flame, solar flares in miniature. The air around her burned with the heat of a sun, a forge of the gods.
Before her, the mortals had fallen prostrate on the ground in abject terror. The rage that had been building inside her for so long broke free.
“You have forgotten your place, mortals.” Her voice rumbled and echoed, and the griffons cried out at the sound of it, clutching their heads. The earth trembled as she spoke, raising her head. “You come before a god to give not worship, but demands. I have allowed it for too long.” Her horn blazed, and her voice boomed, “STAND!”
The mortals scrambled to their feet, averting their eyes. Celestia looked down at them and saw the same weakness of all those beneath her. These withering creatures of dust and water disgusted her.
“I have shown charity. Mercy. Kindness. I have been patient. I have let mortals choose their own paths. And how have you repaid me?”
Sweat dripped from their leader’s face. He bent his head, shaking. Celestia roared. “Greed!” She twisted her head toward one of the griffons. A beam of light lanced from her horn and speared him through the head. He dropped like a bag of flour. “Hatred!” Another beam lashed out and felled a second. “Chaos! Murder! War!”
Bodies tumbled to the ground like falling stones. “Your lives are forfeit.” The last griffons screamed as holy fire pierced their hearts. Only their leader remained. He dropped back to his knees, pressing his forehead against the ground.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! We didn’t—we didn’t—”
“Go, little mortal. Tell your General to bring his armies, and his dragons, and his schemes and plans. Bring them all to Canterlot. I will scatter their ashes to the four corners of the world.” She looked up at the sky. “The sun will not set until all of you lie dead.”
Then, with a final burst of light, she vanished.
Major Dewblade picked himself up and fled to deliver the message.
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Oh my, Celestia just unleashed a can of whoop ass. Dis gun b gud.
Buck. Yes. Mighty wrath of Celestia for the win!
I really, really can't wait to see how this goes. My guess? Celestia kills them all.
......
Buck.
Yeah.
Celestia.
About time the idiot grew a backbone and a brain.
sounds like good odds to me
1992284
derp
And here I thought three revisions would be enough to fix that sort of thing.
1992287 some things just slip through the cracks...
WELP... looks like Dragon is screwed.
Celestia fulfilling a role that doesn't involve passing responsibility or getting Worfed? Inconcievable!
Sounds like this could get out of hand, though. Hope she reigns herself back in before she loses control like that other lunatic.
I'm calling Celestia and Firewings vs. dragon, Canterlot and Nordponies vs griffons, and Blueblood vs. Blueblood.
Excellent job as always, keeping me primed for moar!
Duh. I mean, what did they think was gonna happen?
fc08.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2010/197/b/0/YA_DUN_GOOFED_by_yadungoofedplz.jpg
1992287
That kind of error is easy to skim over. I've been more succesfull in finding my errors when I read my stuff out loud. Too bad my grammar still stinks.
Oh hell...
THIS.
IS.
EQUESTRIAAAAAAAAAA!
Come forth and die, your bodies are nothing and your lives are nothing, either. You are merely sacks of meat walking upon MY world.- Celestia.
This was well worth my time. Just that scene was great stuff.
It's safe to say that shit just got real
Not gonna lie, I read celestia in Galadriel's voice. too epic.
And thus, the Griffons brought upon themselves the wrath of Hellfire Helios.
And it was good.
I really really like the idea of 'Nightmare Moon' and any potential Celestia equivalent not being corrupted or 'evil' versions of Celestia and Luna, but are in fact purer. More divine, and therefor more incapable of relating to mortals, of caring about their petty and so very temporary concerns. Wonder what's going to get her to pull back on her own leash again? Maybe Rye's reappearance with sleipnordic aid, or discovering her good friend Captain Windstreak to still be alive, or something? Those seem too... mortally inconsequential, though, to her current state of mind. What use is a good friend who constantly withers away, after all?
Speaking of Rye, though...
Help us save us from hang on we’re coming back please protect save keep
I fear that Canterlot does not want to be anywhere nearby when a goddess goes to war.
I have a bad feeling about this in general.
Celestial BADASS
I noticed something.
It's Rye.
I've never been of the view that Celestia is a literal Goddess, but when it's done right I'm always pleased. I do find it interesting that her own incompetence led to this, though, and what's more: she's aware of her incompetence. It's really a shame that she permitted tens of thousands of ponies to die and/or be enslaved before finally doing what she should have done all along. Of course, if she'd done it then all the rage she's feeling now never would have occurred and she could have quickly gone back to her old self, but no, she let it linger, so now there's a very real threat that she could be stuck like this. Even when she does the right thing, she ends up doing it in the wrong way.
Despite this demonstration of power, I'm not getting my hopes up. She openly acknowledged that the dragons were a match for the gods back at the beginning of creation, so this does not guarantee a victory. If it did, it would completely negate the entire point of Rye's adventure and the character growth we'd seen in everyone throughout this story. Celestia's a footnote to this tale, and I won't be surprised if she loses her fight. this will be painful for me, because any time either of the sisters comes under serious threat I tend to get pissed off, but – as we know from history – at least she'll come away with only her pride crushed and reputation ruined. (Not really. Her subjects are blatantly blind to her inability to rule.)
Also, nice to finally see where Fritz is at. I've been wondering about him for many, many chapters now.
Wow...just...wow
.
Oh BUCK OFF!
I think Celestia may be getting in over her head if she think she can wipe out the Dragons
.
That feeling when a fic from 2013 predicted Daybreaker four years early...