Part Five: Visions of the Past
The Wind Thief
Part 5: Visions of the Past
The dragon’s titanic form strode through the broken streets.
Smoke rose from the fires; rain fell from the heavens. Together they formed an ashen, concealing pall, a funeral shroud for the dozens of ponies who stayed and fought the beast. It had come with the sunset, its huge wings blotting out the twilight sky. Always before it had killed one or two, and then left, satisfied with its monthly quota of blood. Tonight it had not.
The night, the dragon, the storm. All arrived on the same wings, descending on the town and the foolish, stubborn, brave ponies who refused to flee. In a few short minutes, her home, her family and her life were gone.
She hid, for hiding was all she knew. The years of playing, practicing, pretending she was a thief and an explorer led to this one moment, lying in the ruins of her home, crushed between her mother’s cooling body and a charred, still-burning timber fallen from her roof, holding her breath, acrid smoke burning her eyes, soot and ash and blood painting her the colors of death.
A roar split the silence. The light of the flames grew as the dragon incinerated another home. Raindrops reflected the fires, a thousand rubies falling from the sable night. She scrunched her eyes shut against their patter.
The dragon passed by their home again. She heard the whistling air, the bellows of its lungs, the pop and hiss of rain exploding into steam upon its jaws. The ground trembled with its steps.
It stopped.
Just feet away from her, so close the air vibrated in time with its heartbeat. Its soulless eyes, each the size of her head, gazed at the ruins of her home. Lingered on her mother, on her. She froze in imitation of the dead: unbreathing, unblinking, unmoving, unthinking.
How long it stared at her, she could not say. The rain tapered off, the fires faded, and for the first time in her life, Sly prayed.
She prayed silently, to no god in particular. She prayed to anyone or anything that might have been listening. She prayed, and it stared, and the fires burned, and the rain fell, and the night endured.
Her heart nearly burst when it finally turned. It strode through the ruined streets, casually smashing the torn and fallen facades with its careless tail. The air resounded as its wings took it into the night, and silence returned to the town and its open graves.
She slowly came to her hooves, her body shaking. Fear and grief and confusion warred within her. She cradled her mother’s head, begging her to open her eyes and smile again.
Out into the night she stumbled. Into the dead town, the latest to fall to the plague. Another fading mark on the map: “Here there be dragons.” Numb, half-blind, half-dead, she stumbled. Around her, nothing else remained.
Nothing lived. Everything burned.
Sly drifted uneasily between sleeping and waking. The old dream, familiar and hated, faded away, its darkness replaced by the glare of the time well’s artificial sun. She slowly lifted her head from Twilight Sparkle’s neck, then pressed her ear against the mare’s chest, listening for the faint beat of life.
Still there. Fast, weak and thready, but still there. Breath rattled in fluid-filled lungs, but she still breathed; her heart still beat. Twilight still lived.
Sly floated another healing potion from her saddlebags. Sixth? Seventh? Who knew. She pulled the stopper off and poured it into Twilight’s slack mouth, silently willing its magic to work faster. The potions took time, and there was no point in administering another before this one could sink in.
A drop of the blood red potion ran down the outside of the flask. She licked at it greedily, imagining it healing her savaged throat. Of course it was not enough to mend even a paper cut, but she was too desperate to let even a single drop of relief go to waste. It tingled on her tongue, rich with the taste of fresh strawberries and grass, but faded away before soothing any of her pains.
Any of the potions in her bags would have healed her throat, she knew, but they were for Twilight. A sore throat never killed anypony, but there was no telling how deep Twilight’s wounds went. The burns on her skin were merely the visible injuries — for all Sly knew, half of Twilight’s insides might have been cooked.
The terrible scorch on Twilight’s shoulder and side had already healed, the charred flesh replaced by shining pink skin flush with blood. Her coat would take some time to regrow where it had been seared away, but most of her body still had a short layer of hair beneath the blackened tips. Sly couldn’t help but giggle. Twilight was once again exploring the margins of fashion.
She carefully nosed the side of Twilight’s head, tilting it into a more natural position. Her breathing sounded easier, relaxed and even. Sly waited a while to see if the potion would have any more effect, then fed her another. Twilight mumbled something as the potion worked its magic, and shifted positions on her own. She slipped into a natural sleep, rather than the near-death in which Sly had found her.
Her lungs were working, a sign she was out of the woods. Sly realized she was shaking, the emotional toll of nearly losing her friend finally catching up with her. She scooted away, so as not to disturb Twilight, and let the shakes run their course.
One potion wouldn’t be missed. Certainly not a small one. She floated the smallest vial out of her saddlebags, tore off the gold foil covering its spout and swallowed the murky fluid in a single gulp. The choking constriction in her throat eased immediately, and the potion’s warmth spread out from her heart to her sore limbs, easing away her hurts. Better than sex, indeed.
She pushed that thought out of her mind as she curled up against Twilight once more. Eventually, the librarian’s slow, even, healthy breaths lulled her back to sleep.
***
The library reeked of smoke and ozone, all that remained of the arcane duel between the two mages. A blueish haze filled the air and stung her eyes. Across the room, the frost atronach had already vanished, its icy corpse evaporated back into Oblivion. Her sword rested on the floor where the atronach fell. Twilight lay on the floor, unmoving.
Sly reached down to touch the fallen mare. The purple mane, long and luxurious, broke off in her hoof. The horrific burn festered and boiled as she watched. Twilight’s eyes opened, and she began to scream.
The potions wouldn’t open — the stoppers had fused to the glass. Desperate, Sly smashed their necks against the stone floor, stomped on them, but they refused to break. She begged Twilight to stop screaming. The wounds tore open further, and the trickle of blood became a river. Her skin sloughed away as Sly tried to hold her. Everything was red.
Too much. Sly stumbled to her hooves, turned, and ran.
***
Sly jerked awake with a gasp. The dream vanished like mist, leaving her frightened and confused. All that remained was the image of Twilight, burned and broken, and the terrible sound of her screams. Sweat drenched her coat, despite the relative chill of the room.
She looked down. Twilight was awake and staring at her.
Relief washed over her like a wave. The tension that had been knotting her muscles vanished, and she slumped slightly. She let out a ragged breath and smiled.
“You have no idea how good it is to see you,” she said.
Twilight raised a singed eyebrow.
She coughed. “Awake, I mean. And healthy. Healthier.”
Twilight glanced at the patch of skin covering half her side. It was no longer flushed, more the color of normal flesh than a fresh scar. She snorted quietly, then turned back to Sly.
“So I see. What about you? You looked a little...” She paused for a moment. “Startled.”
“Oh, uh, just a dream. I’ve already forgotten it,” Sly lied. She forced a smile back onto her face.
“Mhm.” Twilight gave her a doubting look, then shook her head slightly. With a quiet grunt, she pushed herself up onto her hooves, swaying slightly before catching her balance. She took a few deep, careful breaths, then looked around the library. Her gaze finally came to a stop on Theostre’s frozen form next to the time well.
“Well, that’s one solution,” she finally said. “How’d you manage that?”
“Good timing?” She winced at Twilight’s flat look. “He was, uh, distracted.”
Twilight glanced back at him. Her eyes lingered on his head and the arrow transecting it. A few drops of blood hung in the air below the wound, in the first stages of a long fall to the stone floor just feet away. His horn, the black soul gem driven through his forehead, had gone completely dark. Not even the faintest glimmer of light could be seen within.
“What will happen to him?” Sly asked. She stood, ignoring the quiet complaints of her muscles, stiff from the cold floor, and walked to the blue line circling the relic. The air felt thicker against her face as she approached it, the sound of her hoofsteps muffled against the stone.
Twilight walked up beside her. She carefully reached over the line with a foreleg, waved it around curiously, then pulled it back.
“I guess that’s a matter of perspective,” she said. “For him, it will be like nothing happened. I assume that arrow in his head won’t kill him, and in a few seconds he’ll stand back up and walk out of the time well. He might not even realize he’s in it.”
Lovely. The world was not yet rid of him. “How long will that take for us?”
Twilight peered closer at the relic, her face taking on the cute look she wore when thinking too hard about something. Sly found herself smiling. She must be feeling better.
“It looks like he’s still infalling, so presumably his relative time dilation hasn’t reached a maximum...” she trailed off, noticing Sly’s blank look.
“Smaller words?” Sly suggested.
Twilight rolled her eyes. “He hasn’t stopped moving toward the relic yet. Depending on how long he spends touching it, it could be a long time before he comes out.” She glanced again at his falling form, at the arrow in his head. “A very long time.”
“Weeks? Months?”
She shook her head. “Tens of thousands of years. Maybe hundreds of thousands. And that assumes this room doesn’t simply collapse on him at some point.”
Oh. Well, future generations could worry about him, then. Maybe we can put up a sign on our way out? It was something to think about. No rush, though.
“So, do you think he could have done it?” she asked. “Overthrown Celestia?”
Twilight didn’t answer immediately. She gave him one final look before turning away, back to their discarded saddlebags. Her books were strewn across the floor, resting where they had fallen when Theostre finally struck her down. Most were in varying degrees of ruin — shredded pages, broken spines, charred covers. Twilight gave them an anguished look, like they were her own foals, then began floating the more-or-less-intact ones back to her bags.
“No, Celestia’s not just a very powerful unicorn,” she said after picking up the last of the books. “She’s a goddess, a divine. She would have crushed him.” Still, she gave the time well a troubled glance.
“Good to know,” Sly said. “Hey, you want to move to one of those other rooms? He’s giving me the creeps.” Theostre’s unblinking eyes seemed to be staring at her, regardless of where she moved in the room. The scorched bloodstains on the floor weren’t doing much for her mood either.
Twilight nodded and trotted toward the entryway leading to the rest of the museum. She nearly stumbled when she passed the pile of empty healing potions Sly had poured into her while she slept.
“Did... were all those for me?” she asked quietly. Sly had to strain to hear her.
Lie? Tell the truth? Sly hedged. “It’s not as bad as it looked. Only some of them were for you.” It was technically correct: the best kind of correct.
“Oh... heh, had me worried for a moment. That’s a lot of potions!” Twilight smiled at her and continued through the entryway.
Sly exhaled quietly. She waited until Twilight passed through the tall doorway, then gave the empty flasks a petulant little kick before following.
They set up camp in one of the museum’s side rooms, dedicated to jewelry and fine clothes. Thousands of precious gems, rings, necklaces and glass ornaments rested in cases or hung from delicate silver hooks. Another wall displayed dozens of ornate fans, formal saddles, and exquisite dresses and suits. Magelights hung from the arched ceiling at regular intervals, casting spotlights on particularly fantastic pieces.
It was beautiful. It was amazing. It was going to make her rich. Sly’s jaw hung slack, her attention drifting to the pricier-looking treasures as Twilight Sparkle nattered about something or other. She nodded absently in time with Twilight’s voice, but otherwise completely ignored the mare.
After a few moments of silence she realized Twilight had stopped speaking and was looking at her expectantly. “You’re right, Twilight,” she said, her social reflexes kicking in spontaneously.
Twilight looked surprised. “Really? Well, I’m glad you agree, especially after earlier. I’m sure the Royal Historical Society will be happy to credit you for their discovery, though.”
Ah, her old nemesis, the Royal Historical Society. Her ears flicked back in annoyance, though she managed to keep a smile on her face. There was still plenty of time to change Twilight’s mind. Or smuggle the jewelry out, whichever happened to be easier. With any luck, Theostre kept a cart she could borrow somewhere in his museum.
She appraised the jewelry while Twilight created a magical campfire. Some of the pieces were almost magical in their beauty. A gold earring hung with an emerald carved in the shape of a flying pegasus. A shard of amber, nearly the size of her hoof, interred a brilliant iridescent wasp. A glass hummingbird sipped nectar from a crystal flower, so lifelike she almost expected it to fly away.
Twilight was being quiet again. Sly turned to see her lying next to the fire, her ears drooping and her lips pursed in thought. For once, Twilight didn’t look like she was about to scold somepony. Brooding was apparently one of her specialties.
“What’s wrong?” Sly asked. She trotted back to the fire and lay down near Twilight. Close to her, but not quite next to her. A carefully calculated distance.
“Something Theostre said. It’s been bothering me.”
Yeah, me too. Another Dragonborn would appear, Theostre had said, and they could sacrifice him for a thousand years of peace. She opened her mouth, about to ask what he had meant, when Twilight beat her to the punch.
“‘I am immortal. That was my wish,’” she said, echoing him word for word.
Oh, the wish part. Sly had actually forgotten about that, but managed to mask her surprise before Twilight could see it on her face. Instead, she nodded and hummed quietly.
“All three brothers fought for the jewel,” Twilight continued. “Somehow, all three were defeated and sealed down here, and bound to guard their father’s crypt and the jewel.”
“So who defeated them? And why didn’t they just keep the jewel for themselves? Why lock it down here?”
Twilight chewed on her lip. “He said his sister buried him here. The histories don’t mention anything about Curalmil having a daughter, though.”
“Half-sister, maybe? From his mother?” Sly wondered.
Twilight shrugged. Her side seemed to have healed to the point that the movement caused her no pain. The exposed skin had even started taking on the purple tint that underlay the rest of her coat. “Maybe, or the histories might just be incomplete. They haven’t exactly been too insightful about what we’ve found down here.”
That was an understatement. If the histories had been more accurate, Sly never would have set foot near the damn tomb. Jails weren’t comfortable or interesting, but they were far safer than this.
Much lonelier, though. The thought intruded on her mind, unbidden. She frowned and cast a quick glance in Twilight’s direction. The other mare stared into the fire, unnoticing.
“The histories didn’t mention Theostre being immortal,” Twilight said. “They didn’t mention Ageund being a giant, and they certainly didn’t mention Cianim being... Cianim.” She drew her hooves in closer to her body at the mention of his name. Her tail curled tight around her side.
“Yeah, I’m not a history-writer pony—”
“Historian,” Twilight interrupted.
“—but that seems like the kind of detail I would mention,” Sly finished. There was no point in being annoyed by the correction. Just Twilight being Twilight. “Before we go any deeper, are we relying on these books for anything important? Because maybe we shouldn’t.”
Twilight’s frown deepened at the disparagement of her books, but she had no ready answer. She glowered at the fire in silence, her ears folded back along her skull. It was another cute look, Sly decided.
“They were right about the most important thing,” Twilight finally said. “The Wind’s Eye is still down here. Theostre wanted us to open his father’s crypt, so he could reclaim it. It’s possible there’s no more guards, no more... monsters. Just Curalmil’s crypt and the jewel.”
“You really think it will be that easy? We could just walk in there now if you want. Grab the jewel, be home by dinner.”
Twilight let out a shaky breath. “No, I don’t think it will be easy. Nothing about this trip has been.” She was quiet for a moment, then turned her body slightly to face Sly. “But there’s something I need to tell you before we go any farther.”
Sly’s ears swiveled forward. “Oh?”
“You... you know that Celestia doesn’t exactly trust you.” Twilight said. Her eyes flicked up to the iron band around Sly’s horn. “I didn’t either, when we started. Half the reason I came was to keep you from doing anything stupid with the jewel.”
Sly crossed her eyes, trying to glance up at the band. She’d almost forgotten it was there. “Yeah, I gathered that. So?”
“Well, I trust you now. More. A little more. A little.” Twilight blushed as she stumbled over her words. Sly had to suppress a smile, then noticed she was blushing as well. She faked a cough to try and hide it.
“Well, thanks, I guess. I trust you, too?” That had sounded better in her head.
“Er, thank you?” Twilight said. There was an awkward pause before she continued. “We trust each other, right? So I can tell you now.”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“So?” Sly prodded.
“So what?”
“So, what are you going to tell me?” Sly asked, exasperated. Twilight wasn’t so good at this conversation thing.
“Oh! Right.” She exhaled again and tapped the tips of her forehooves together. “I wasn’t supposed to let you touch the jewel. Celestia didn’t think you were responsible enough to have it, even briefly.”
Sly blinked. An odd warmth filled her chest, and for a moment, her eyes threatened to water. “But now you do?” Maybe she had misjudged Twilight. The sarcasm, awkwardness and bookishness were just a front, to keep ponies from seeing the real, beautiful, wonderful mare hidden beneath the—
“Oh, heavens no,” Twilight interrupted her musing. “No, I still plan on taking the jewel.”
Very skillfully hidden beneath the aggravating, abrasive exterior, Sly amended. Her lips pursed slightly in annoyance. “Well, that’s... nice. Thank you for sharing that.”
“Er, there’s more.”
More, wonderful. Perhaps she planned on leaving her here, too. Sly raised an eyebrow.
Twilight took a deep, slow breath. “When Celestia and I made that plan, we didn’t realize how dangerous this place would be. We had no idea these... things would be guarding the jewel.”
Sly couldn’t argue with that. She gave Twilight an encouraging nod. “And?”
“And, I almost died back there,” Twilight continued in a rush. “If you hadn’t found those potions, I would have. If there’s something else guarding the jewel, that may happen again. I might not survive to keep the jewel from you.”
Sly frowned. “That’s your biggest concern? I might get the jewel, even though you’re dead?” She struggled not to shout the last few words.
“Yes,” Twilight said with a sudden, startling intensity. Her eyes stared straight into Sly’s. “I told you before, our lives are worth sacrificing if it means stopping the dragons. That wish is far, far more important than you or me. Be honest, what was the first thing you thought when Celestia mentioned the wish?”
Sly leaned back. Years of lying and cheating made it easy to keep her face neutral. “I imagined giving it to Celestia, so she could stop the—”
“Don’t lie to me,” Twilight snapped. “Am I your friend or not? You did the same thing everypony does when they hear about a wish. They imagine using it for themselves. Riches, power, eternal life, every single pony who is granted a wish uses it for something selfish. Dammit Sly, even I can’t keep from dreaming about using it on myself!”
Sly felt her mouth hanging open. They stared at each other, Sly stunned, Twilight breathing heavily.
Time to calm things down a bit. “I’m sorry, you’re right,” Sly said, as soothingly as possible. “I did think about wishing for my own palace. Servants, wealth, all that. But now I know better.” She gave Twilight her best smile.
Twilight snorted quietly, but seemed calmer. At least she wasn’t yelling. “There’s more,” she said. “Wish spells are incredibly dangerous. They don’t give you want you want. They give you what you ask for, and always with the least possible expenditure of energy.”
Buh wha? Sly blinked. “Say that again?”
“Take Theostre. Do you think he really wanted to be a draugr? To have his skin peeling off and rotting for the rest of eternity? No, he wished to be immortal, and that’s exactly what he got. Becoming a draugr was the easiest way for the jewel to make him live forever.”
“Well, I didn’t plan on wishing to be immortal.”
“Fine, let’s say you wished for that palace. But what if the easiest way to get a palace is to give you one that belongs to someone else? Like Celestia? How do you think she would react to somepony wishing Canterlot out from under her?”
Sly paled beneath her coat. Celestia had seemed like a kind, loving goddess, but even the kindest ponies had their limits. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see what Celestia’s bad side looked like.
“Right. So, wish carefully, is what you’re saying?”
“More than just carefully,” Twilight countered. “It can take years to craft the best phrasing for a wish, but that’s never what happens. Either ponies get too eager and wish for the first thing that pops into their head, or they save the wish for an emergency and end up using it in a panic. Wishes are dangerous, and I don’t want to see you...” she trailed off.
“See me what?” A faint twinge of alarm began building in her chest.
“See you...” Twilight stopped and let out a deep breath. “What do you know about Luna?”
The sudden turn threw Sly for a loop. “Who?”
“Princess Luna? Celestia’s sister?”
“Yeah, what about her?”
“Do you know how she died?”
Sly suddenly felt like she was walking on very thin ice. “I was always told she’d died fighting alongside the Dragonborn, right before the dragons were defeated.”
“That’s... generally true,” Twilight admitted. “But it’s not the whole truth. It’s actually a lot more—” She stopped suddenly, a distracted look on her face.
Sly gave her a few seconds. “A lot more what?”
“A lot more...” she trailed off again. “Would you like to hear a story?”
Sly blinked. Twilight’s erratic half of the conversation was starting to unnerve her. “A story?”
“About one of the first Dragonborn. I think you might like it.”
Hm. She did like the Dragonborn. “Okay, sure. Story time.”
Twilight smiled for what felt like the first time in hours. The simple expression buoyed Sly’s spirits more than the most beautiful treasure in the museum. Twilight sat up straighter, and when she spoke, it was with the formal, practiced cadence of an expert storyteller reciting a familiar tale. Sly felt herself sinking into the words, the dungeon melting away, replaced by the ancient world of Twilight’s making.
“Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria, there were two regal sisters...
oooOOOooo
“We are pleased that you have returned to us, sister. We trust your journey was fruitful.”
Luna sketched a slight bow, lowering her head to her extended foreleg. High above, upon her golden throne, Celestia acknowledge the bow with a nod. Technically, they were equals, and no such formalities were necessary. No need for bows, or obeisances, or carefully framed greetings. They were equals, technically.
But the sun is, was, and always shall be greater than the moon. For what is the moon’s light, but a dim reflection of the sun? Luna waited the appropriate number of seconds, then stood and ascended the stairs, taking a seat in her own throne beside her sister. Her smaller, darker throne.
“Very fruitful,” Luna said. “Perhaps we could speak in private about it?”
“Of course,” Celestia whispered. She raised her voice to the majordomo, a powerfully built earth pony standing at the foot of the stairs. “Sand Dollar, we believe we are done for the day.”
The majordomo nodded to the princesses, though his eyes were on Celestia, Luna noticed. He turned to the court and rapped his staff on the floor. “The court is in recess!” he shouted, provoking a mutter from the crowd, still filled with petitioners waiting their turn. “Return tomorrow, if you have business for the crown.”
The sisters ignored the grumbling. They stood, and Luna followed Celestia to their private quarters.
***
“I missed you,” Celestia said. “I was worried.” She dropped the majestic plural as soon as they left the court. Once they were safely through the curtains, she stopped and gave Luna a friendly nuzzle. The servants trotting alongside them pretended not to notice.
Luna suffered her sister’s affections with a silent eye roll. “I’m not a child, ‘Tia. You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”
Celestia laughed quietly. As always, it was a melodic, beautiful sound, like bells in the distance. “Of course, Luna. All grown up now.”
They settled into Celestia’s private dining room, a cozy solarium that drank in the sun’s afternoon rays. Through the huge glass windows, they could spy all of Canterlot, stretched out below the palace, going about its business. Far off on the horizon, a smudge of smoke betrayed the presence of another dragon attack.
Celestia noticed her sister’s gaze and sighed. “They’re growing more confident. One actually attacked the city last week. It killed a dozen ponies before the city guard arrived and destroyed it.”
“That’s actually what I wanted to talk about.” She leaned across the table. “I think I found it.”
Celestia glanced up over the rim of her tea. “So easily? You made it sound like it would take years.”
Luna deflated, sinking into her chair. “It may yet. I found the secret, but the crafting will be... laborious. A decade, if we hurry.”
“A decade? I’m not sure we have that much time.” Celestia turned back to the windows. Far in the distance, a mountaintop shifted. Huge wings extended from its sides, and it dropped away from the peak, soaring over the valleys and foothills until it was lost in the haze.
Luna followed her gaze, tracking the dragon as it vanished. “I know. We’d best get started.”
***
For nearly ten years, Luna scoured the world, searching for the materials to craft her weapon. A fallen star, found upon the glacial fields a thousand miles to the north, provided a taste of the firmament. She felled a thousand trees in the blighted Shimmergloom Swamp, searching for the perfect piece of ebony heartwood to use as charcoal. She drained a dozen lakes, looking for a single flask’s worth of pure, unadulterated water, never touched by pony lips or hooves.
For an entire year she flew around the world, tearing volcanoes apart to find a mythical stream of living lava, and stole from it a drop of never-cooling stone. The bead of molten rock shone like a star in her hooves, and kept her warm during the deepest winter nights.
The Dragon Winters, as they became known, settled upon the land. Every year the snows arrived earlier and melted later. Every year the heart of winter grew more terrible, covering the world with unnatural chill. Birds fell dead out of the skies. Mountains stayed white all the year round. Farmers rushed to plant and harvest their crops in the few short months of warmth.
Through it all the dragons grew stronger, as though empowered by the cold. Some ponies argued that the winter brought the dragons — others said the dragons brought the winter. Whoever was correct, each new year saw deeper winter and more dragons. Hope began to fade in ponies’ hearts. Fewer foals were born every year, for who could ever want to bring a child into such a grim world?
For nearly ten years Luna searched, Celestia fought, ponies suffered, winter deepened, and the dragons endured.
Then, one day, Luna returned.
***
“This is it? The last piece?” Celestia asked. She leaned over Luna’s table, staring at the diamond. It was by far the largest she had ever seen, the size and shape of a goose egg. Luna had already cut and polished it until it glimmered with a mesmerizing fire.
“Next to last,” Luna said. “I have all five elements, and the crafting should be fairly simple. The hard part will be the spark, to give it life.”
“We have flint and steel.”
Luna smirked. “A figure of speech, dear sister. It will require something a bit more magical than that.”
“I see. I assume you already know what it will take, and are just drawing this out for dramatic tension?”
Luna turned away, so her sister would not see her annoyance. “Straight to the point, as always. It needs a dragon’s soul.”
Celestia was silent for a moment. Luna heard soft hoofsteps on marble as her sister came to stand beside her.
“Well, I suppose anything less would be too easy, at this point,” she said. “You have a plan?”
“Yes. I’ve already spoken with one of the Dragonborn. We will lay a trap for a dragon, and he will absorb its soul when we kill it. It should be one of the simpler parts of the puzzle.”
“Mm, simpler.” Celestia walked around so she could look her sister in the eye. “This Dragonborn, do I know him?” It was a sham question. There were less than a dozen Dragonborn in the world, and Celestia knew them all.
Luna tilted her head up. “You may. A pegasus named Cloud Fire.” She spoke his name casually, as though it were any other word on a list.
Celestia’s smile widened by the tiniest bit. Only those who knew her well would have even seen it. Luna did, of course, and forced herself not to scowl.
“Yes, I think I’ve heard that name before.” She walked to the exit. “Anyway, you seem to have things well in hoof. I hope your efforts will be... fruitful.”
Luna waited until her sister’s hoofsteps faded down the corridor, then turned back to her workbench. There was still much to do before they would be ready for the spark.
***
Cloud Fire was waiting for her when she returned to her quarters. The sun had begun its slow daily ascent, and she was ready for bed.
On the other hoof... she smiled at Cloud and held the door open for him. He slipped through with the fluid grace that had first caught her eye, all those years ago. She checked to make sure no one in the corridor had seen, and then followed.
“Good evening, princess,” he said. His sandy coat stood out easily, even in the dark. He went around lighting the various candles and braziers placed around her room. The darkness slowly receded, pushed back by the warm, gentle light of the fires.
She flopped onto the bed, her normal regal grace completely abandoned. Her horn glowed, and her crown floated over to an unadorned wood stand next to a mirror. Thus freed, her mane spilled onto the sheets like a starlit river.
“Good morning, you mean.” She stifled a yawn. “Didn’t you just wake up?”
He climbed onto the bed beside her. “I’ve been flying nights, lately. Easier to see the dragons’ fire from a distance. Besides, the night’s not so bad, once you get used to it.”
“Mm, flatterer.”
“Guilty,” he admitted. “But anyway, what did she say?”
Luna propped herself up on her front legs, tucking her hooves beneath her. “She had no objections. None that she voiced, at least.”
He nodded. “Do you think she knows? About us?”
“She certainly acted like she did. Sometimes she can be so... insufferable!”
He leaned back slightly, scratching his chin with a hoof. “Well, I’m not in the dungeons, so I assume she doesn’t mind—”
“Of course she doesn’t,” Luna interrupted, her head tilting imperiously. “I am a princess, just as she is. She would not dare judge me!”
“No, but she is your sister, and she cares about you.” He soothed, and leaned over to nibble on one of her delicate ears.
But Luna was difficult to soothe. She flicked her ear away and grumbled something under her breath, then settled her head on her hooves, apparently content to sulk the morning away. Cloud sighed silently and retrieved his secret weapon from the stand beside her bed: a simple wooden brush, with a special handle for pegasus and earth ponies to grip in their teeth. So armed, he returned to her and began carefully brushing her mane, teasing out the knots and tangles that invariably accumulated in the thick, luxuriant mass.
She resisted at first, but the truth was that she loved her sister, and could only hold anger in her heart for a brief time. The gentle brush strokes wore away her indignation like flowing water eroding stone, and she found herself slumped against his side, her eyes half-lidded and unfocused.
After a time, he put the brush down, and...
oooOOOooo
Sly raised an eyebrow. "And?"
Twilight blushed. "And... you know." She tapped her hooves together, as though that somehow explained things.
Too cute. Sly forced herself not to smile. "I'm afraid I don't. What happened next?"
Twilight blushed harder. The tips of her ears drooped. "Well, they uh, knew each other."
Sly put on her most innocent expression. "Oh. Like we know each other?"
Twilight clapped her hooves over her mouth. "No! No, definitely not like us!"
It was too much. Sly started to giggle. Twilight stared at her for a long moment, then set her hooves down, a flat expression on her face.
"Is it too much to ask for you to act like a grown mare for just one minute?" she asked.
"So they knew each other, is what you're saying?"
Twilight rolled her eyes. "They slept together, okay? They had sex. There. You've ruined an epic ballad of love and loss that I'll never be able to hear again without thinking of you. Happy?"
"I’m not sure how that ruins—"
"Moving on!" Twilight interrupted, resuming the story with uncharacteristic haste.
oooOOOooo
They left in the morning to set the trap.
Luna and Cloud Fire found a small farming village near the edge of civilization. It had been abandoned weeks ago, but had yet to surrender to the elements. The houses were neat and intact, their roofs not yet holed or caved in. It was perfect.
Their plan was simple: make the village seem like it was still inhabited, and wait. It was not the most devious strategy Luna had ever come up with, but it was easy and it worked. They spent a week living in the empty houses. At night, with all the fireplaces aglow, it truly did seem inhabited from the air. Exactly the way a dragon would see it.
On the seventh day, the dragon attacked. It announced its presence with a loud roar, shaking the trees from miles away with its voice. A young blood dragon soared over the rooftops, low enough to rattle several chimneys to pieces. Low enough for Cloud’s arrow to punch a hole in its wing.
The dragon roared, more in annoyance than pain, and wheeled in the air, searching for the insect who dared attack it. It found him immediately: Cloud stood in the open, in the middle of the street, his wings folded at his side.
Too easy. The dragon landed in the street with a tremendous crash that toppled the nearest houses. Its wings, outspread, blocked half the sky. It opened its mouth to incinerate the tiny mortal, then paused, as though realizing something.
You... you are dovahkiin. The beast took a step closer, lowering its snout to inspect its prey. It snorted, sending wafts of smoke billowing through the street.
“Yes,” Cloud responded. “And this is a trap.”
The dragon’s chuckle was like thunder. Is it, now? It is a pity I must destroy you, little mortal. Such arrogance. You would have made a fitting servant for a god. It took in a deep breath.
Cloud’s breath was faster. He inhaled and shouted; at that range, just feet away, it was impossible to miss. “Krii lun AUS!”
The dragon roared in pain as Cloud’s shout rolled over it. Its scales softened and lost their color, turning a waxy, sickly pink. Blood seeped out from its eyes and mouth, dripping onto the ground with a sizzling patter.
Cloud kicked himself into the air before it could recover, his wings flapping furiously for speed and altitude. Below him the dragon roared again, infuriated, and spread its own massive wings. He felt the air shake as it took flight.
Pegusi rarely fought dragons in the air. The massive beasts were faster, stronger, and could reach miles with their breaths. They were like flies to the dragons: weak, small, and easy to swat.
Most ponies, anyway. Cloud leaned forward, searching for the indigo speck that could face dragons in their own element. He led the dragon on a short, brutal chase through the mountain valley. The taller trees clawed at him with their crowns, and he tilted his wings, shooting nearly straight up into the air. The dragon followed the climb effortlessly; it would catch him in seconds.
Luna caught him first. She flashed past him at impossible speed, her wingtip brushing against his as she dove straight for the dragon. There was a terrible scream, louder than anything Cloud had ever heard, followed by silence. He stopped and spun in time to see the dragon spinning to the ground. One of its wings, sliced cleanly away at the shoulder, tumbled through the air on a different trajectory, chased by a steaming contrail of blood.
The dragon lay in the forest, nearly dead when Cloud landed. Luna was waiting for him, standing silently by the fallen monster, her silver spear floating serenely by her side. She gave him a tiny nod.
“Your part, I believe,” she said.
“Yes.” He selected a glass arrow from his quiver, nocked it on his bow, and sighted down it at the dragon’s head. Beside him Luna floated out the jewel, an innocuous-looking diamond that barely seemed worth all this trouble.
The dragon roared weakly and tried to lift its head. The motion exposed its neck, and Cloud’s arrow sank easily through the soft scales, past its flesh, and into its spine. It shuddered again, then collapsed. The trees around it smoldered.
“One dragon soul, coming up.” Cloud dropped the bow and reached out to grasp the floating jewel in his lips. He took a calming breath and walked toward the fallen dragon.
The dragon’s corpse ignited, burning with a bright, cold fire that quickly reduced it to bones. The light wrapped around him, and he felt the dragon’s soul sinking into his being, like it had so many times before. This time, however, he twisted the flow, channeling it into the tiny jewel in his mouth.
It was over in seconds. The dragon’s skeleton sank into the soil, already beginning to crack. Around them the birds resumed their songs. The diamond in his mouth felt warmer, heavier, almost alive.
He spat it out. Luna caught it before it hit the ground, giving him a frown for his trouble.
“So, did it work?” he asked.
She held the jewel before her eyes. Faint images seemed to shift inside it, dancing as she turned in the air.
“I don’t know,” she finally said. “It did something, though.”
“Well, that’s a start.”
***
“So, you must be Luna’s friend. Cloud Fire, was it?” Celestia gave him a warm smile.
“Yes, your majesty. It’s an honor to finally meet you.” He stood across from the princess in Luna’s laboratory. Between them the jewel sat on a worktable, the images inside it dancing in time with an unheard tune.
“Oh, the honor is mine. Such a fine, polite young stallion.” Her smile shifted to Luna, who was doing her best to seethe quietly. “Luna has told me so much about you.”
“I have not!” Luna protested. A faint blush appeared on her face, almost invisible beneath the dark coat.
“Ah, you’re right. I apologize,” Celestia said. “I meant, my spies have told me so much about you. Luna never tells me anything about her friends.” Despite the words, her eyes twinkled with levity. Cloud suspected he was in the crossfire of a practical joke.
“Spies!? Has it come to this between us, sister?” Luna shrieked. Cloud edged away nervously from her mantled wings. “Am I just another pawn for you to... you to...” She trailed off as she noticed Celestia’s laughter, and the indignation on her face was replaced by a scowl.
“Hilarious, dear sister,” she muttered. “Such a fine sense of humor you have inherited. Truly, our court would be a grim and dour place without you.”
“One of us must be able to laugh, beloved,” Celestia answered, as serene as always. Cloud wondered if anything affected her.
“The jewel, your majesties?” he suggested.
“Ah, yes.” Celestia nudged it with a hoof, sending it bumping across the table on its polished facets before Luna stopped it. “Did it work?”
Luna was slow to answer. “I... believe so. The images inside are a positive sign.”
Cloud leaned closer, trying to peer into the jewel. The pictures shifted quickly, but occasionally they paused long enough to stick in his mind. The ocean. A candle. Gold coins. Blood. He shook his head.
“What is it showing?” he asked. “And how does that help us?”
“The images are possibilities,” Luna said. “The jewel is a window, and like an open window it lets certain things pass. If you wear it, small, beneficial things will leak through at a constant rate... good health, better luck, better aim.” She glanced askance at his bow.
Celestia leaned closer to the jewel. Her beautiful, pastel mane spilled onto the table. “And the other thing?” she asked.
Luna nodded. “Yes, the other thing. Once, during your lifetime, you can reach through the window, grab anything of your choosing, and bring it back. Metaphorically, that is.”
“I see,” Cloud said. “Pretend I’m not a unicorn, for a moment. What does it actually do?”
“It grants wishes, Cloud,” Luna said. “It grants wishes.”
“Oh.” He paused, thinking. “That is... huh.”
“Huh, indeed,” Celestia said, earning a glare from her sister. “This could be the weapon we’ve needed. This could be the turning point in the war.”
“So, do we just wish the dragons were all dead, or something?” Cloud reached a hoof toward the jewel.
“No!” Luna shouted, snatching it away before he could come close. Even Celestia looked alarmed at his suggestion. “No, that would be dangerous. There are protocols for wish spells. If you don’t follow them, terrible things can happen.”
“I don’t see how killing all the dragons would be terrible,” he said. His wings ruffled slightly in agitation.
“Would it be terrible if they died because a meteor slammed into our world, cracking its crust open and ending all life?” Luna asked. “Wishes are dangerous. This weapon is like a sword with no hilt. We wield it by holding the blade in our mouths.”
He was quiet for a while. His feathers stood on end as he stared at the jewel.
“Well, that’s... interesting,” he finally said. “What do you plan on wishing for, then?”
Luna bit her lip. Across from him, Celestia shifted her weight, the ever-present smile on her face fading away. The room suddenly seemed colder.
“I’m...” Luna stopped and took a breath. “I’m not wishing for anything. You are.”
Much colder. “I’d really rather not. Shouldn’t it be one of you two—” he started.
“We can’t,” Celestia said, interrupting him gently.
“The jewel grants one wish per lifetime,” Luna followed. “My sister and I are nearly immortal. If either of us use the wish, it might be thousands of years before anyone else can. Whereas, if you use the wish...”
He blinked at her. His friend, confident and lover. Never before had the gulf between them seemed so wide and deep.
“Whereas, if I use the wish, someone else can use it again in just a few years, right?” he finished for her. “Because Dragonborn never live long.”
She looked down at the jewel, unable to meet his gaze. “Something like that.”
“I see,” he said. They were quiet for a while, all three staring at the jewel and its kaleidoscope of images. “This is a lot to think about. I hope you will excuse me.”
Neither princess looked up from the jewel as he took his leave.
***
“You must hate me,” Luna whispered. She lay on her side, facing away from him. The blankets, kicked off in their earlier passion, sat at the foot of the bed in a tangled heap. A faint sheen of sweat slowly dried on her coat, leaving her suddenly chill with the dry winter air. She shivered.
He sighed quietly. They were her first words since he had arrived in her chamber over an hour before. Instead she had relied on a more primitive dialect to communicate her needs, and he had listened carefully.
“Why would I do that?” he asked. While she thought of an answer, he grabbed the fallen blanket in his lips, shook it out, and pulled it over their shoulders. Her shivering quieted, though he still felt tiny trembles against his chest.
“Because I’ve lied to you,” she said. Her voice was soft, dull. “For three years I’ve been pretending to love you.”
“You must think yourself a very good liar.” He bit the tip of her ear lightly. “But only to yourself, I think.”
She scooted away from him. He followed, until she was at the edge of the bed, with nowhere else to retreat. They lay that way for a while as she sulked. Eventually, she rolled over and faced him.
“You should hate me,” she said. Her breath, hot and sweet, tickled his nose.
“And yet, somehow, I do not.”
“You should,” she said, louder. “We’re using you, just like any other weapon in our arsenal. Worse, we’re already planning for your disposal. Just one more mortal tossed away. Fired off like one of your arrows, forgotten once it leaves the bow. Your life means nothing, compared to the wish.” The bitterness in her words tore at his heart.
He placed a light kiss on the end of her snout. “You’re doing what you have to do.”
She still seemed upset, so he followed with another kiss, then a nibble on her neck. One thing led to another, until she responded with the heat and urgency he had come to expect from her. Afterword, they were quiet, except for their slowly calming breaths. Outside their chamber, hidden by the thick drapes, the sun climbed toward noon.
“Someday, when this is all over, when you... when you are gone...” She reached out a hoof, pressing it against his chest. “I will take the jewel, and wish for a single, mortal span. To be a pegasus or unicorn or earth pony, and live one, true life.”
His eyes widened in alarm. “That’s a lot to give up. For you and us. Equestria needs its princesses. Celestia needs you.”
She snorted. “My sister would not even notice. She has moved beyond such things as love, Cloud.”
“I think you’re wrong. I think she loves you deeply.”
“We’ve already established that you’re a poor judge of princesses.” She kissed his nose to soften her hard words.
“Hm, perhaps.” He paused and snuggled a bit closer, sensing their conversation drawing to a close. “Do you really want to be mortal, though? To die?”
“No, Cloud. All creatures, great and small, fear death.” She nestled up against him. “I want to be mortal, so I can live.”
***
Four months later, as the pall of winter began to slowly make way for a short, weak spring, they were ready to use the jewel.
Luna retrieved it from its special safe and set it on her workbench. Time had not diminished the jewel in the slightest — images still flashed with blinding speed deep within. Cloud Fire kept his distance. On the edge of the room, Celestia watched silently.
“Alright, then,” Luna said. She let out a quiet breath. “Just like we rehearsed, Cloud.”
“Right.” He licked his lips nervously. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Celestia give him a tiny, reassuring nod. “Just like rehearsal.”
He stood, placing his hooves on the table. It was uncomfortably high, having been built by Luna for her own use. Asking for a stool would have been demeaning, though, and he ignored the discomfort. Before second thoughts could weaken his resolve, he reached out one hoof to touch the jewel.
He had practiced the wish a hundred times, and it flowed easily from his lips. “I wish I was in possession of a weapon capable of defeating the dragons, proportional in power to the threat posed by the dragons, limited in power to that minimally necessary to defeat the dragons, discriminating in its effects, precise in its engagement, and reasonably usable by a normal pony.”
The shifting images began to slow. Flames filled the jewel, displacing the other sights, the other possibilities. A bead of sweat ran down his temple. Luna’s warning about a world-ending meteor loomed in his mind. This was their first wish with the jewel, after all, and they had no assurances that it would work as planned. Perhaps they should have started with something less potentially dangerous, he pondered.
With an audible click, the jewel froze and went dark. No meteors. The three ponies three exhaled as one, and leaned over the table.
No weapon either, he noted. “So, did it—”
A loud crack interrupted him. His ears popped as a long, narrow shape suddenly appeared in the air above the table. It hung there for a moment, ignored by gravity, before tumbling to the table with a clatter. He flinched away, nearly taking flight before the calmer parts of his mind prevailed.
“An... arrow?” Luna said. She levitated the mysterious item into the air, turning it this way and that. It was longer than the arrows in his own quiver, with a thin, pointed tip designed for piercing armor, unlike the broadheads he normally used. Rather than feather fletchings, the end of the arrow was fluted, with thin vanes running along its length. The arrowhead and shaft were of a single piece, crafted from some smokey glass, through which he could faintly see the light of the window behind Luna.
“There appears to be something inside it. May I?” Celestia asked. At Luna’s nod, her horn glowed, and the arrow floated closer to the elder princess. It turned until its tip was pointing up, and a faint trickle of golden grains began flowing down the inside of the shaft, collecting at a narrow waist, then flowing through to its tail. She flipped the arrow over, and the grains — sand, perhaps? — began flowing back toward its tip.
“Have you ever seen anything like it?” Cloud asked. He half-jumped, half-flew onto the table for a closer look at the arrow.
“I have not,” Celestia said. She set the arrow down carefully, mindful of its tip.
“Nor I,” said Luna. “But it seems straightforward enough.”
“Just one, though?” he said. “We wished for a weapon that could defeat the dragons, plural. How does a single arrow do that?”
Luna and Celestia shared a glance. Something silent passed between them, and Celestia shrugged slightly.
“I think we use it on the biggest one,” Luna said.
***
Alduin. God, destroyer, first born, world eater. The lord of the dragons was known by many names but only one form. His wings stretched wider than a mountain. His roar could be heard for miles around. His breath was a flame brighter than the sun. His scales were black as night.
Always before he had haunted the edges of the world, sending his children to wage war against the mortal races. Never did he fly into battle, though none pretended to understand why. Nothing, not even the sisters, could have stood against him and lived.
Not until the final battle of the war — the dragons’ assault on Canterlot — did Alduin himself appear on the field of battle. His children swarmed around him in the snow, the largest of them only a tenth his size. From a mountaintop perch he watched the city vanish in flames.
The ponies fought valiantly, but against such foes they had little chance. Their armies fell back into the city, then to the mountaintop castle that housed Celestia’s throne.
She led the battle, shining as bright as the sun. Though the cold winter wind tore at their hides like knives, they drew strength and warmth from her presence. Throughout the battle she never faltered, never slowed, even as her white coat became red with the blood of her foes.
But Celestia was only one pony, and not a Dragonborn. The dragons she slew died laughing, knowing that rebirth awaited them. Time and death were on their side.
Finally Alduin had enough. He alighted from his mountain, and landed on the scorched, desolate fields that surrounded the burning city. He breathed, and everything before him died.
Above him, two ponies lived.
Luna and Cloud Fire dove through the towers of smoke, shrouded by her spells against the dragons’ sight. With a final brush of wingtips, they leaned apart, and fell on separate paths toward the ground.
She angled her wings, diving toward Alduin. The spells hiding her form vanished, and she lashed out with her silver spear at his neck. A hundred dragons she had slain with that spear, its infinitely sharp edge slicing through the hardest scales like they were fog. Forged from the very essence of moonlight, it was one of the greatest weapons in the world.
Against his scales, it broke.
He roared in shock, rather than pain. Never before had a pony dared strike him. His massive head swung ponderously through the air, seeking the insect that had stung him. She wheeled in front of him carelessly, not even trying to escape.
MORTAL. He inhaled, and the world shook.
BURN. He exhaled. Luna’s form vanished like mist as the cloud of fire rolled over her.
Cloud Fire saw Alduin turn from nearly a mile away. He flew toward the elder dragon, a dozen feet above the ground, dodging the fires and wreckage of the city. The smaller dragons ignored him. Alduin, distracted, did not see him. He pulled the arrow from his quiver and stopped a thousand feet away. The heat pouring off of Alduin’s body already burned his face and singed his feathers. He could fly no closer.
A thousand feet, far beyond the range of even the greatest longbow. An impossible shot, unless one had a little help. Help such as the jewel hung round his neck on a thin silver chain, weightless, almost forgotten.
He drew the arrow back in his bow, aiming high above Alduin’s monstrous form. He closed his eyes and let it fly.
Alduin turned to see the arrow coming. It was a splinter to him. Nothing, less than a fly. As insignificant as the pony who had fired it. He inhaled again, and breathed just as the arrow landed square between his eyes. His breath trickled off, and for a moment he froze, as though perplexed.
The world eater vanished.
Gone in the space of a moment. Gone in a flash of light, leaving nothing but a clap of thunder as the air rushed in to fill the void left by his departure.
Without their god-father the other dragons lost heart. Within minutes they had fled, taking wing to the farthest corners of the world. Prey for Dragonborn for the next hundred years.
***
Cloud Fire did not survive the battle. Alduin’s flames, abbreviated as they were and from a thousand feet away, were still more than enough to kill him. The jewel he wore, filled with flashing images and fused to his neck by a line of melted silver, was the only way they identified his body.
Celestia reached him before her sister. The crowd of ponies parted reverently before her as she approached. Her coat still steamed; her wings dripped with blood. No emotion touched her face -- she was numb with grief. Thousands of ponies had died that day, all her children, all beloved. Cloud Fire’s death was just one more flake in a blizzard.
Not to Luna. She landed a dozen feet away, barely recognizable beneath the soot and ash covering her. Her eyes widened as she absorbed the sight of her lover’s charred, twisted form, and she fell onto her haunches in shock.
Celestia came to her side and nuzzled her gently. They sat together while Luna sobbed. Around them the crowd grew larger. Ponies both wounded and whole gravitated to the sisters, all that remained of Equestria. Behind them Canterlot burned.
Eventually Celestia stood. Her subjects needed her. She leaned down and whispered into her sister’s ear.
“We have to move on, beloved. We will mourn properly later.”
Luna looked up at her. “How... how can you say that? He saved us! He defeated Alduin!”
“He is dead, Luna. We must serve the living.”
Luna stumbled to her hooves, shaking. “They live because of him!” she shouted. Around them the crowd of ponies drew back nervously. “They live...” she trailed off, her gaze drifting to the jewel still resting on Cloud’s body.
“Live,” she said quietly. Only Celestia could hear her.
“No!” she said sharply. “You cannot, Luna. Death and life are not ours to give.”
“His life should be!” Luna said. She lifted the jewel with her magic, easily snapping it free from the melted silver. “Would it be so wrong, sister? Don’t we owe him everything?”
“We do, but this law is greater than us. We cannot break it. I forbid you to.”
“You... forbid?!” Luna spat. She trembled with decades of pent-up rage. “You dare forbid me anything? I am no less worthy than you!”
“I forbid this,” Celestia said. Her face was a calm, impassive mask.
Luna swore and shrieked at her sister. She screamed her hatred. The ponies around them cowered before her wrath.
“Do you feel nothing, sister?” she shouted. “Have you forgotten love? Have you abandoned your heart, to make yourself immune to pain? Don’t you feel anything?!”
“Of course I mourn, my love. But now is not the time for this. Now we must help our subjects—”
“NO!” Luna screamed. Even beneath the ash, the ponies surrounding them could see her coat begin to darken. “I see through your masks, sister! I know the hollowness inside you! You care nothing for your subjects, but I will make you! I will make you feel!” She reached out with a hoof to grab the jewel and press it against her chest.
“I wish—”
“No! You will not!” Celestia’s horn flared with a brilliant light as she attempted to snatch the jewel away, but Luna, filled with a strength born of rage and pain, easily batted her magic aside.
She grinned madly. Her blue eyes lightened to a vibrant cyan even as she wept. “I wish, dear sister, that you could know my grief! I wish that you could feel my loss! I wish that you could suffer, just for one moment, as I am suffering now!”
The crowd was deathly silent in the wake of the wish. Celestia stared at her sister, horror on her face. The dancing images in the jewel slowed, then stopped, and with a click easily heard by everypony present, it went black.
Luna’s eyes widened. The jewel fell to the ground, and a confused, pained expression appeared on her face. Her mouth opened as though she meant to speak, and she stretched her hoof out to Celestia. She stood that way for a long moment, reaching for her sister, then fell forward onto the ground.
Before anyone could draw another breath, Luna died.
Celestia took a faltering step toward her sister, then slowly sank to her knees. The look of horror faded away, replaced by something far more profound, something far worse: understanding. Just as Luna had wished, Celestia knew grief. Celestia felt loss.
And Celestia suffered.
oooOOOooo
For once, Sly had nothing to say. Twilight gave her an expectant look as the story drew to an end, then shrugged slightly, turning her face toward the fire. For a while they were silent as Sly absorbed the story. Twilight’s expert storytelling, almost bard-like in its skill and ingenuity, was forgotten, lost in the shadow cast by the tale itself.
“Oh, Celestia,” she said, almost whispering. How much pain had that kind, beautiful, loving, immortal being suffered? How much pain could any living thing suffer, before breaking?
Twilight must have read her thoughts. “It nearly drove her mad. The jewel vanished moments after Luna died. The consensus among arcane philosophers is that the jewel couldn’t let itself be used by Celestia to bring Luna back, as that would have negated Luna’s wish.”
“What’d Celestia do?”
Twilight shrugged again. “She just... left, for nearly five centuries. I asked her once, but it’s not something she talks about. Some ponies think she was hunting for the jewel, but it reappeared a hundred years before she returned. Curalmil recovered it not much later, and we lost track of it after he died. Until recently, anyway.”
“What about Alduin? He just vanished?”
“As far as we know,” Twilight said. “The wish was for a weapon able to defeat the dragons, not necessarily kill them. He might still be alive, somewhere.”
That was a lovely thought. Dragons the size of a castle were bad enough -- a dragon the size of a mountain, invincible and immortal, was beyond terrifying. Even after facing Ageund, Cianim, and Theostre, it was dragons that filled Sly’s heart with dread.
Dread and foreboding. She mulled over her fears for a time, then gave them voice. “If Cloud Fire defeated the dragons, why are they back now?”
Twilight set her head on her crossed forelegs. “There are many ponies very desperate for an answer to that question, Sly. If we knew, it might help us defeat them again.”
“Unless we get the jewel, right?” Sly felt nauseous at the thought. The jewel no longer held any value to her. That was Twilight’s reason for telling her the story, of course, but it was still true.
Twilight bobbed her head. “Yes. Do you understand why I’m afraid of it, now?”
“Maybe... maybe we can use it one more time, to defeat the dragons again, then destroy it?”
Twilight glanced at her. “You know ponies, Sly. How likely do you think that is?”
Right. Not very.
Sly woke from a dreamless sleep several hours later with a feeling that something was amiss. It took her several moments to realize that Twilight Sparkle had moved, leaving a cold, lonely gap along her side.
She opened her eyes to see Twilight just a few feet away. The mare had opened her saddlebags, and was slowly tearing her letters into strips, one by one, and feeding their remains into the fire. After a few letters vanished into the flames, she noticed Sly’s gaze, and gave her a tiny nod.
Sly licked her lips nervously. “Hey... what are you doing?”
Twilight waited to answer until the last of the letters were gone. The fire glowed brighter for a moment, gifted with additional fuel, before dying back to the embers they had banked before dozing off. When the pages were nothing but ash, she turned back to Sly, her eyes downcast.
“Growing up.”
Footnote: 50% to next level (Sly)
Footnote: Level Up (Twilight Sparkle)
New Perk: Bard’s Voice — Your tales and songs have a 50% greater chance to influence your audience.
***
{Author's note: As always, ratings and comments are appreciated!}
Stats
Page generated in 0.044 seconds
Total duration
960 users online
1,472,555 hits today, 2,054,621 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
DAMN!!!
That's all that needs be said about that!
MORTAL. He inhaled, and the world shook.
YEAH!
This...is beautiful. Keep it up!
Man. This is getting better and better.
This has gone beyond epic...
It is the ultimate crossover.
All bronies must read it and despair (that they weren't the ones who wrote it).
Luna's death was so perfectly tragic.
Wishes are tricky indeed. You should see the entire page-long wish I created for wishing for immortality: describing the perfect, ageless body that could sustain no damage, yet retain all the functions I require for actions I desire to partake in, immune to all chemicals and poisons, genes incapable of deleterious mutations, an immune system flawless and capable of eliminating any and all pathogens, a brain with neurons that will not produce any products leading to their own self-destruction... it went on like this for quite a while.
I LOVE this story. I nearly cried at the whole Luna scene. It was very well done. Can't wait to read more of this though don't rush.
That... was... so... damn... good...
Cold I don't know how you do it but every chapter just blows me away in this. Every action feels like it has a deeper purpose that all ties together, every bit of dialogue comes off like scripture towards the framework of this story. I mean god-damn this has been an amazing twist on Skyrim/MLP crossover that deserves so much more than it gets.
I really wish I had more to say, but just understand my deep love for your work and this amazing chapter. I feel so damn sorry for Celestia right now it isn't even funny.
I guess that means the jewel's useless now, if it can't be used while the previous wisher is still alive.
i wanted to congratulate you on achieving a genuinely mythic tone with the story of Luna's death. making a story sound like a saga without seeming pretentious is an exact art, and you hit it pitch perfect.
Put simply, brohoof .
Krii Lun Aus is best shout.
I could only pray to craft such a beautifully piercing tragedy as that one. Incredible.
This is just an amazing story, which keeps getting more and more epic with each chapter.
Seriously, I haven't played Skyrim (or any Elder Scrolls game, for a lack of time mostly), yet I absolutely love this story.
I gasped and squee'd when I saw that this had updated.
Beautiful, enchanting work, as always. Celestia's plight is heartbreaking, another wonderful parallel to mainstream canon.
I'm a little surprised that Twilight wasn't more impressed by Sly's victory over the super-powerful lich king who'd literally painted the floor with her. Heck, I'd be impressed. I'd be all... "Waah? I thought we were goners! Good for you, Sly. Maybe you really are the Dragonborn!" Anyway, as soon as they can get back Celestia can implement steps to confine the little bastard. Won't that be just fine? He'll bump the time well, scramble back to the threshold, and bump into a big concrete bubble carved with inescapable magic runes. At least he'll have something pretty to look at until the end of time.
Oh, but what happened to the final stage super boss King Koopa dragon? Another big mystery. But I have a theory...
"Spike! Stop daydreaming about your past life as the god figure of all dragons and come clean the owl cage!"
"Grumble. Puny mortals."
"It was technically correct: the best kind of correct."
Futurama reference? :D
Did Twi just destroy all of her letters from Celestia
“Oh, Celestia,” she said, almost whispering. How much pain had that kind, beautiful, loving, immortal being suffered? How much pain could any living thing suffer, before breaking?
Is Sly thinking this? Why would she have such strong feelings? Doesn't she distrust Celestia and want to get away from her? I can't imagine this being entirely in character.
Sly had been caught, imprisioned, and pressed into service. I'm not sure she actually has an actual grudge against Celestia, probably not considering all Celestia is doing to try and hold the country together against the dragon threat.
Sly may dislike Celestia's means, but that doesn't means he can't feel empathy/sympathy for her in the wake of hearing about such tragedy.
Oh that tale of the defeat of Alduin. Marvelous!
To sum it up in one sentence: I'm glad I gave a Skyrim crossover a chance.
Brushie brushie!
I laughed way harder than that has any right to make me do xD
...
And then you hit me with the rest of the tale.
That was... very touching.
I must compliment you on the skill you wrote it with.
The only problem is that now you've made me sad :(
So why didn't they wish for, like, all dragons suffer spontaneous fatal heart attacks and their souls disperse permanently upon death, with no adverse effects to the environment and other living creatures? I mean you're working with a machine whose priority is just mechanical expedience, not an actively malevolent jackass genie trying to make everything go to hell any way he can and will set you on fire because you didn't specifically ask not to be set on fire. Sure "wish they all die" might end in a random gamma ray burst that incinerates the planet, but giving a specific method of delivery very rapidly hits a point where causing collateral damage is simply inefficient compared to "poof go the organs".
I guess what they wound up doing just feels like introducing way, way, way too many completely unnecessary variables and is a great way to shoot yourself in all four hooves and every open orifice on your body. "Minimally necessary" is kinda asking for something that would take the sacrifice of your entire army to even have a chance to administer, and then not work anyway because you just didn't happen to have enough of a metric shitload of dumb luck that morning to actually do it -- I mean it was still minimally possible, right? "Proportional" to the threat the dragons pose...well one of them appears to be called "WORLD EATER", so you might still end up dropping the sun on yourself. That's to say nothing of how the jewel's measurement of those things is completely abstracted from you and may not even be particularly consistent with your own.
Everytime i read a chapter i am taken away from my home into your story. I feel as though i am witnessing everything that is going on. Not many storiies do that. Congratz, continue, be brilliant.
That is so terrible what Celestia went through. At least we know that she loved Luna.
gud shit
*LEVEL UP* (Author)
New Perk: Master Story-Teller - You weave words with such exceptional skill that bards will sing songs and ballads of your stories for many years to come!
I absolutely love this story...and each chapter gets progressively better! (20% each time) Keep up the amazing work.
110523
so true
It's not often that fanfiction makes me feel emotion. It's even more rare for that emotion to be as raw and painful as this. I can list maybe a dozen examples if I include real novels and published fiction.
I didn't cry when I read this chapter, but I got close. I felt grief tear at my guts, not just once but three times.
And I felt awe. I felt the power of Alduin through your strong, concise words. I felt the desperateness of the ponies that fought against him, and the courage of Cloud Fire. I felt the rough edges of pain when you described Twilight. And when she decided to 'grow up' at the end of the chapter, I reeled.
That is all I have to say. There are no criticisms I can bring to bear, seeing as I am unable to see the bigger picture of this story. Besides a couple misspelled words (nothing more than single missing letters), you left me in grief, in awe, and wanting more.
165634
"Besides a couple misspelled words (nothing more than single missing letters)"
Blame his reviewers for that.
I...wait. Oh.
172014
I don't blame anybody. Typos are bastards to spot. The human mind can put together most misspelled words without even having to think about it, so long as the first and last letters are in place.
As an emlaxpe...
I wish Sly and Twilight got together, oh well though. Not all story's are romance, but I sure as hell love this story. But romance with Sly and Twi <- epic ryhme. Would be a add feat.
Hey folks. There will be a slight delay in posting the final chapter and epilogue of The Wind Thief. I've been traveling for some business this past week and it's thrown my schedule off a bit. Look for the last part to be posted this weekend.
Drakmire can vouch for me that it's already being written, just more slowly than usual. Again, apologies for the delay. I think it will be worth it.
176898
Woah woah woah, when did I become an authoritative source of information? For all I know, what I've seen is just a devious plot to fool us all! You're going to chuck the final chapters in with Theostre and move onto your next project.
I'm onto you. O.O
176898
"final chapter and epilogue"
Already?
Heh, I kid. This has actually been one of the few fics where I've actively looked forward to each new chapter. After this is over, I can't wait to see what other stories you have in store.
Sorry to keep everyone waiting. The final chapter and epilogue are done and in review. 17k words, all told. Expect them to be posted by this weekend.
I await eagerly... I really like sly... She reminds me of... Shit, all my friends!
glad that Fallout: Equestria has trained my expectations for sequences that start with oooOOOooo
It's like this fandom has a device that just guarantees epic world-building, super-fulfilling backstory sequences
i put on some chinese "erhu" music while reading this... i shouldn't have. The song reached a climax at the fight with alduin and fell to areally sad sounding melody at the scene of cloud fire, and Luna's death.... i almost cried.
Welp, looks like Luna got herself into some trouble agai- Oh...
Extremely well written part about Luna's death. Told as an old story, a legend. Sad and tragic. I loved it.
Wow, that was intense. Luna dying like that was.... I can't even describe it.
Krii Lun Aus
Lun Aus
Lun A
Luna.
Anyways this story is 1000 different kinds of epic. You get all my respect as a fellow author. You.. You just...*sniff*... I need a moment.
158263
Why is it I can actually imagine Spike saying that?
A glass hummingbird sipped nectar from a crystal flower, so lifelike she almost expected it to fly away.
I spy with my little eye a The Glass Blower reference.
I see what you did there. And I approve.
Wait a second (and note that I'm not waiting to finish the chapter to say this). If I'm reading this epic ballad right, the Wind's Eye is now incapable of granting wishes ever again, because the wish won't recharge until Theostre dies. That puts rather a damper on this mission.
Please accept my most sincere compliments on an epic tale well told. It is a very rare author indeed who can craft that perfect moment when what's going on suddenly hits me like a ton of bricks, just before it is spelled out explicitly, and I am suitably impressed when it happens. (Which makes me think of The Immortal Game, though that realization was practically the polar opposite)
Oooo, and there's Luna. Looks like my guess that she was a Dragonborn was wrong, but she was definitely closely associated with one.
Yikes, and there goes Luna. Well, with all that talk about careful and non-careful use of wishes, I guess we were bound to see at least one of each.
Hmn, those letters. Unsent love letters to Celestia, maybe?
Uh, since when? Is that just for the purposes of this story, or your actual headcanon?
2006479
I realize this reply is more than 'a little' late, but I feel it is important to note that Theostre was a druagr (not sure if I'm spelling that correctly).
Which means he's basically a zombie-like being, so he could be classified as undead. That might work for his wish considering the definition for immortal is "not mortal; deathless; living or lasting forever", which means the wish doesn't necessarily need to keep him alive.
... damn I think I just geeked myself
p.s. This comment IS NOT to criticize your argument, which was very logical might I add. I just thought you'd appreciate a different perspective.
...wait. Since when was this a perk? Since when was being a bard a thing outside of those quests for the Bard's College? Did I miss a huge part of the game?
Then with a brilliant flash her cutie mark in stealth appeared on her flank causing the dragon to whip around with an angry roar.
"Oh for the love of -"
Good wish, but I would have tried something more suitable for a species of ravening monsters that have no society and use no tools: Green pest control!
Turn a few of these buggers loose, and a species with no medical care would found itself held neatly in check. Flaming dragon tapeworms? Check!
Burrowing phenix critters that lay eggs in dragon brains? Double check! 
Burning wing mites that devour the wing membrane from the inside? Oh, you better believe thats a check!
Pit the Dragons against the power of evolution. Inside of a year they won't be a problem anymore. "Oh, you reincarnated somewhere else? Good for you! Guess what those tiny red dots on your leg are; More parasites! Lucky you! And don't worry, it will take them a long, long time to kill you."