Millennial Heartstrings

by The Apologetic Pony

Chapter 17: A Distorted Premonition

The ‘elder’ had been right, in many ways. It’d take so little to have me fall from grace, what hit me was larger than it needed to be. So it was more of a violent spiral, than a fall and yet still tranquil.

I believed my parents might as well have been dead, I’d not seen Father for nearly a Millennium and Mother for seven centuries. Were they not lonely too? Against my will, I couldn’t get over the idea of them being really, gone. My makers were no butterflies, absolutely, but surely this hypothetical trope shouldn’t be so harrowing to face? Was this what they warned me of, this thinning tenacity brought on by loving too freely? If so, it was a vile truth, like we were never meant to last. As if we were made from the same dust as those fleeting things, sharing in Death’s eternal reparations, a scythe caressing every neck, mortal or not.

Did I like watching butterflies die, was he right about that too? I loved watching them grow, I loved seeing them overcome hardships, not falling at them. I’d stuck with every one of them until the end and I was never sure if I did enjoy that. I was drawn to them, mesmerised by an intensity of consciousness I would not otherwise experience, their deaths included, as tragic as some of them were. Why did I bother? Because you couldn’t help yourself, says one. Because you enjoyed it insists another. I don’t know Princess, I wonder if you do...

On the fabled night, the rebellious Luna returned. Celestia being the mastermind she is, had all the lines of inheritance for the elements of harmony set up perfectly; the bearer of the element of magic was right under her wing apparently. As expected, she’d left it to degrade to a flimsy fairy tale, as I’d know her so well to do. They stomped on the Lunar revolution with a rainbow so bright that it could be seen from the very outskirts of the Everfree forest. Curiously, the manticores in particular told me that it had acquired a fairly menacing reputation among the pony folk. An ingenious way to keep them away from the pedestals and the objects atop them to instigate the process I assumed were there. The manipulation was of such a nature so that it could only be appreciated by those not being manipulated, like you and me. Oh you are forever the silent orchestrator Celestia.

I visited the sisters, I mean, she did say Luna would be pleased to meet me. Likely sooner than I should have, mere days after the event, but in a bizarre fascination I found some romanticism in seeing Luna at her most vulnerable. No, I don’t think it was bizarre at all, just a pesky, useless objective part of me.

It was difficult getting into Canterlot Castle, they’d built it up since I’d last seen her and there were significantly more ponies clad in gold (coloured) armour. No unguarded entrances that I could find, so I ended up waltzing through the main entrance. Stealthy, I knew. But nopony dared question a pretty bird like me. Most of them didn’t look up anyway (never mind that). What was more difficult, was finding the two of them; in doubt I tried to get to the large chamber we’d talked in before. It translated into a clueless route from one room to the next, most of which were empty bar motionless sentinels at archways.

I did find her eventually, walking up a grand spiral staircase; as I should have expected, she was shocked to find me here --- now. The pale pony would have fallen off if it weren't for the Alicorn-sized banisters.

After appearing to be ashamed of the undignified act of spluttering like a drowning fish, we exchanged brief greetings, then I joined her in the ascent of the long staircase. Celestia urged that she had to see her sister before we talked any further.

‘Is she ill?’

‘Only fearful, forgive her if she’s a little withdrawn. You know there have been some rough times.’

Starving now are we Princess?

‘I don’t have to be here if you don’t want me to.’

‘No no, you’d help. You’ll help,’ she muttered the second sentence to herself, more intent on staring at the stairs than the phoenix beside her. It was only reasonable.

‘You're not using your magic.’

‘I’ve learned your caws and cackles since then.’

‘Evidently.’

‘... It’d be grotesque for me to use it unnecessarily when my sister is as weak as she is.’
‘Would she mind?’

‘No.’

We reached a set of grand blue doors. Celestia knocked gently:

‘Luna? Are you alright? And awake for that matter?’

‘Quite, in consideration.’

She nudged the door aside and gave a little twitch of her wing as indication for me to follow.

‘We have a guest.’

The relatively plain bedchamber housed a mahogany writing desk, a few chairs and a lavish bed. Its walls were a pale brown that made the room feel moderately claustrophobic in contrast to the marble floor. At the opposite end of the doors was an extremely regal bed, adorned with forbidding figures of the most famous figures in history yet, in irony, Nightmare Moons sneered from the corners of it. Starswirl, Iris (who had been the queen to end the monarchy for the griffins), they were all there, their faces protruding. And, of course, Luna’s eyes tracked me from her bed. She looked completely exhausted, with sizeable eyebags and frazzled mane.

‘Ah, a phoenix! We hope we can remember your language. We are pleased to see thee!’

‘Lua, she’s not exactly equine, or the general public. You don’t need the old facade.’

‘Don’t call me that!’

Celestia didn’t hesitate walking to, then sitting on the edge of the bed.

‘I just wanted to-’

‘I know what you want to do and I don’t like it, Tia. Let me remember for myself.’

To my surprise, her words were brimming with venom, as if her sister were a stranger, who’d done something very wrong indeed. They were both keeping their wings firmly at their sides, though Luna’s were unkempt, feathers jutting out where flight would not have them. And they quivered slightly. All Celestia did was sit, stoic.

The princess of the night turned away from her sister.

‘Do you have a preferred term of address?’

‘Call me what you want. Someone important called me Philomena.’

‘Is that-’

‘You're understanding her perfectly Luna. But only because she’s speaking the common Avian.’

Effectively ignoring the other alicorn, she continued our conversation ‘So who was it?’ She pouted at her big sister.

‘No, a mortal.’

A questioning eyebrow was raised.

‘Dragon, I presume?’

‘No, an equine.’

Her eyes widened with shock at the apparent indignity it was to be named by a mere butterfly. Celestia showed nothing.

‘But, you - that can’t be true.’

Celestia was eager to take the opportunity to recover leverage.

‘That’s far enough, she’s answered your questions truthfully.’

‘Certainty courtesy of your underhoofed operations.’

The sisters were losing their bridle; I could see celestia biting her lip in an effort to keep things civilised and wrangling at her tongue. Her speech now came out as forced with growing resentment.

‘Don’t push your luck, Lua.’

I was finding this all rather intriguing. Maybe I could make some money by selling it out to some newspaper, somewhere. That would be a novelty. Not that money meant anything.

Luna glared at her sister, before turning to the third party again.

‘So, Philomena, what brings thee- you here?’

‘The same reason why you're here: companionship.’

‘You must have gotten along with her well.’ She said, not looking at the mare she was referring to.

‘Aren’t we getting along?’

‘It would seem so. It’s only -- I am, how can I put it?’

‘A bitch?’ Celestia rudely interrupted.

I couldn’t help but collapse in a heap of laughter.

‘Celestia, since when durst you use such crude terms?! To describe me, no less!’

It sounded as if she were only mocking anger, she’d been amused herself. Keeping a straight face was only a matter of keeping face where none was held. Her turquoise eyes, though glazed, gleamed archly.

‘I would think you were the one drinking the moonshine like this!’

‘Would I be brave enough to steal from your personal stash?’

‘Well you were the one who so diligently preserved it...’

‘In candour sister, I do have a nation to rule.’

‘But you shouldn’t make such jokes, Tia, if somepony heard-’

‘Someone did hear, and I think she can better appreciate this modern humour.’

I had to suppress myself from chortling again.

‘We’ll have a riot on our hoofs tomorrow.’ Luna said, in sarcastic glumness.

‘And blood the day after.’

I was always up for a quip.

‘Whose?’

‘Your wit is as dark as my coat Philomena,’ Luna said, grimacing.

A silence calmer than the talk had been initially filled the room, as we contemplated moving onto more serious topics. The hostility between them had been buried under artificial soil. It only needed was an innocent grave digger to revive it.

‘Sister, I would like to speak to Philomena, alone.’ Luna requested.

‘Yes, you would wouldn’t you?’ Celestia said snootily after a pause.

She slid off the bed and exited the room, billowing mane trailing.

‘Good riddance,’ Luna muttered under her breath.

‘What happened, Luna? Is it as plain as it’s told now, you tried to overthrow her out of spite and jealousy of her day?

She huffed.

‘So that is why you're here.’

‘It isn’t as if anyone will know.’

‘No, it is not. I know I hated her. She: The greater light, the glorious, the saviour. And me, the dreamer, the quirk, the mistrustful. But I’m not entirely sure it was my own disposition Philomena.’

‘You're not going to blame him are you?’

‘He’ll break free again.’

‘Of course he will, but-’

‘Soon, very soon, that prison will crack. We dealt with it poorly, forced to use the elements in haste. Then again, it would only delay it by a millennium or two.’

‘Why do you tell me?’

‘Don’t be so cold Philomena, these are secrets between us. This a mere exercise of trust.’

‘Out of loneliness?’

‘Yes... I think so. It seems you can tell, I’m, wrecked. Is that how they would call it?’

‘You’re a quick learner!’

‘I’ve been encouraged to keep to ye olde speech by Tia for the public.’

‘For sympathy?’

‘Exactly that.’

‘That seems more than a little degrading.’

“It will ease the transition,” ‘she says.’

‘Maybe it will.’

‘But as I was saying, I’m utterly sleep deprived.’

‘Not drunk?’

‘Oh, can it mean that too?’

‘It’s all colloquial, most wouldn’t mistake it but many would be secretly amused.’

Luna smiled and turned her head bashfully away for a moment.

‘And it’s not the sort of word one would expect you to use, as royalty.’

‘Whatever, Philomena.’ She waved a hoof dismissively.

‘Is there reason in this state you're in?’

‘There is, but it’s not reasonable. In great irony, I am terrified of my own dreams. Being drowned in my own canvas was beyond my imagination of what suffering could be and now beyond my memory. Already I can feel it being diluted, I couldn’t cope otherwise.’

‘Beyond empathy?’

‘Beyond sympathy. I’m sorry I acted the way I did to your name earlier, my sister’s presence drove me to a fairly visceral reaction.’

I had to wonder if it was my presence that exerted such pressure on the two of them. And if I catalyst for their troubles.

‘It’s fine.’ That came out more impassively than I’d wanted.

‘He must have meant a lot to you.’

‘It’s just a name, not like I hear it often. But he was one heck of a Stallion.’

‘I’m glad.’

Celestia came knock-knock-knocking on heaven’s door.

‘Oh it’s you again, sister.’

‘Have I intruded on something personal?

‘When has anything been impersonal, Tia?’

Celestia lingered in the open doorway.

‘I’d like to have my own talk with Philomena.’

‘Yes you would, wouldn't you?’ Luna repeated the line in mockery; it was enough to snap the truce.

‘This irrational resentment you hold achieves nothing!’

‘Oh do you think so? You just, go ahead and leave the elements in mortal hooves.’

‘Don’t pretend it’s about that Luna, you’re more wicked than you ever were prior to-’

‘Look at this hypocrite! She preaches tolerance and acts out ad hominem!’ Luna retorted.

The sun stumbled at that: ‘I... It- I gave the elements away because I couldn’t trust myself. After I saw what you -- we were capable of, I didn’t want it to ever happen again.’

‘And if they were manipulated, or rebelled, could you kill them?’ Luna asked, staring intensely into her sister’s eyes.

Celestia stood her ground and swallowed the word.

‘Philomena,’ she eventually beckoned, before slipping out the door.

‘She’s going to show you something evil, be wary.’

‘How can you-’

‘Just go.’

I hesitantly left the moon’s residence, apprehensive at just what this ‘evil’ was.

Comments

[Chaodiurn]

Ahoi!

You may remember that this fiction got submitted to the FimFiction Gold Archives months and months ago. If you do, here's the answer to it. You ain't forgotten.

This story is a special case. The idea is good and interesting. Against many other fictions it is a fresh wind to travel through the history of time with an independent point of view. Philomena's exhilaration that comes with her immortality is a permanent source for trouble, standing against her being as a 'lower creature'. It's the reader's choice whether to like this or not, but it keeps the traveling from getting stale. She is a phoenix after all, with a fire burning deep inside her, so I would interpret this as a fusion of her 'animal spirit' and the pov. That alone could save a place in our Archives.

But then there is this other point. While I, as a reader, can feel the fun you having yourself at writing this, I can also see the rough edges that come with your relative young age. The punctuation is what I only can call raw. Commas are set where none should be, as if you were following the 'a break, a comma' saying blindly. This is fatal. Furthermore, there were semicolons and colons used where a simple comma, or a dash in some cases, would have done the job just fine. That you are using single quotes instead of double quotes is uncommon but not entirely wrong. That again it's wrong whenever they have a space on each side. But okay, this seems to be more a problem of typos. The fact that you tend to go:

"Direct speech." He said.

Instead of:

"Direct speech," he said.

Can't be excused with that. Yes, there is a development through the chapters, but I still would highly recommend to get into contact with a proofreader/editor who takes a little time for you. This easily has the potential to become a great fiction, but as it is the punctuation takes the most wind out of your sails to reach the level of a featured story. And until that changed, I'm afraid that I cannot approve this for our Archives.

Carpe noctem,
--Chaodiurn

[The Apologetic Pony]

2571129
Ah well, that's fair enough. Thanks for taking a look at this, I have to admit, I thought I had been forgotten long ago.