Three weeks after the banishment of Nightmare Moon, Celestia is haunted with visions by night and an ominous singing by day that nopony can explain. In order to stop it, Starswirl and one special mare must decide if the truth is worth a million tears
Three weeks after the initial banishment of Nightmare Moon, Celestia is still plagued with guilt over her sister's fate. Haunted with recurring visions by night and an ominous singing by day, her stability as a ruler is deteriorating, as well as that of her nation. With riots threatening to tear apart Equestria, Starswirl and Rose Petal are hard-pressed to find a solution, and fast. When they do find one, however, it isn't all that easy. As they deal with the pain of loss in their own lives, they too must come to ask themselves the fateful question:
"Is it really better to forget?"
Cover art: "Was it Worth It?" by Famosity on DeviantArt. Used with permission.
Nighttime had fallen over Canterlot once again, cradling the city in its velvet blanket. Lamps and torches now long snuffed out, it danced freely through the streets, while the hooting of owls and the melody of sweet silence accompanied its movements. Every so often it would pause and peek its head through the window of a certain house in order to affirm that all the little fillies and colts of the town were blessed with sweet dreams. Then the Night would brush its gentle hoof over the rooftops before twirling into the darkened sky. Up above, a thousand stars playfully winked as they watched over the ponies’ slumber, with the moon as the mother and guardian for them all. She turned her loving face upon her twinkling children until at the stroke of midnight, her grandest hour, she let her radiance pour onto the world below, bathing it in silver light.
Some of that moonlight spilled onto the floor of Celestia’s bedchambers, where there resided the one filly in all of Canterlot that hadn’t been subdued by the night’s song. She had heard singing though, but its magic seemed to have the opposite effect, enticing her not to rest but to action.
Celestia’s snow white hooves treaded silently, quietly, calmly across the floor, although her heart was anything but. She had felt like this before, and the déjà vu filled her with dread. A part of her mind screamed to turn back, but it was sorely distant, like a cry muffled through a pillow. She needed to find the source of the music; it was an innate need, without reason because it needed none. It simply was. The drive of her curiosity won out over her misgivings, so she continued walking until she reached the two gold and purple curtains that led to the Solar Balcony. The weighty fabric, however, did little to muffle the siren song that floated to Celestia’s ears.
With a flicker of magic, she impatiently threw open the curtains and made her way out onto the balcony, where the city of Canterlot lay below her, the domain of the heavens dwelled above her, and her sister stood before her, looking up at the stars and singing a sweet lullaby.
“Luna?” Celestia whispered, taking a tentative step forward.
She didn’t respond, so Celestia came closer, trying to make her voice be heard above the resonant song. “Luna?” she called. “Luna?”
The music, once so sweet and peaceful, now took a darker, haunting turn. The wind moaned through the tree branches, and the warm summer’s eve dropped ten degrees, shuddering as an unearthly wailing, the cry of nightmares, rose up from the ground. And still, Luna continued the melody as she sang words Celestia couldn’t understand.
By this point, Celestia had come to the edge of the balcony next to her sister, and she still had yet to take her eyes off the starry night. “Luna!” Celestia cried, tugging on the night princess’ mane like a frightened foal. “What is happening? Answer me, please, my sister!”
At that, Luna finally turned to acknowledge Celestia. “Sister?” she repeated coldly. “Am I really? You lost your sister the day you failed to save her.”
“No,” Celestia murmured, shaking her head. “No! That can’t be true! There must be away to get you back; there has to be! Please, please don’t leave me,” she cried, burying her face in her hooves. “I… I don’t want to be alone.”
Even though Luna had stopped singing, the melody continued, drowning Celestia in despair. Storm clouds rolled in, obliterating the stars with spears of lightning; raging fires sprang to life; and ponies throughout Canterlot awoke from their dreams with cries of terror. And yet Luna remained deadly calm through it all, even as Celestia covered her ears in pain from the ghostly music reaching its crescendo.
“No,” Celestia whimpered, wanting to block it all out. “No, not again…”
Luna turned on Celestia with eyes as slits of darkest night. “If you truly wanted to save me,” she hissed, “all you needed to do was catch me before I fell.”
Then Luna hurled herself over the rail of the balcony.
A cry caught in Celestia’s throat as she reached out with her forehooves, desperately flailing for purchase on Luna’s falling body. Leaning over the railing as far as she dared, her tear-blurred eyes latched onto a navy blue mass just below. And for a split second, she actually managed to grab hold of her sister.
Then Luna slipped through her hooves like sand.
Celestia could only watch, her eyes wide in frozen horror, as Luna fell, down, down, down, until she was swallowed up by tendrils of darkness.
A scream.
Then the singing died.
“Luna!” Celestia screamed, sitting bolt upright in bed.
Right on cue, her personal maid Rose Petal came rushing in at the sound of her princess wailing like a windigo. “Oh dear, not again,” she lamented before coming over to sit at Celestia’s bedside. “There, there, it’s alright, princess,” she murmured soothingly, taking Celestia into her forehooves. “It was just a nightmare. There’s no need to cry.”
But cry she did, as she clung to Rose Petal with the desperation of a filly weeping for her mother. Rose Petal’s pale pink fur gained a glossy wet sheen as she held the princess even tighter, rocking her gently while she unleashed a fresh storm of tears.
“I s-saw her again,” Celestia wept in between great, heaving sobs that left her gasping for breath. “It was th-the same thing that h-happened, exactly the s-same! I let her f-fall, and there was n-nothing I c-could do!”
Rose Petal sighed. She had received this exact same recount every night for the past three weeks. So she remained silent while she ran her hooves calmingly through Celestia’s sunset pink mane. She stayed for a good twenty minutes until her sobs faded in a decrescendo, becoming quiet and subdued. Then, with the utmost tenderness and care, Rose Petal tucked the princess underneath her silken covers before silently walking out the door.
Only when she heard the click of the lock falling in place did Rose Petal let out a tired sigh. That had been two minutes longer than last night.
“How is she?” asked an approaching voice.
With bleary eyes, the maid looked up to see none other than the Grand Mage Starswirl coming up to meet her. Even when clad in a nightgown and a lopsided nightcap, he still exuded the air of authority that made Rose Petal automatically incline her head in a bow before falling into step with him as they walked down the palace halls.
“She’s sleeping now, or at least, she’s pretending to be,” Rose Petal began. “The poor dear will probably be just as exhausted as she’s always been.”
“Was there any sign of improvement?” Starswirl questioned. “Any at all?”
Rose Petal shook her head.
“Horseapples,” he muttered, his dejected heart not in the curse. “That was a Somni Invicta spell we cast on her; not even a griffin invasion should have been able to wake her. I don’t understand how this is possible.”
“Well, can you not just try something else?” Rose Petal suggested as she idly pushed back her wavy turquoise tresses out of her eyes. “Another spell, another potion?”
“What do you think the Mage Council has been doing, Miss Petal?” Starswirl demanded, the moonlit corridor washing out the stallion’s brown coat to a gaunt, grim grey. “You have witnessed our futile attempts to enchant her. Perhaps it is a unique characteristic of an alicorn to resist such spells; we do not know, nor do we have the time and resources to rule out thousands of unknown variables through such intricate and magic-draining spellcasting. The Mage Council is, quite frankly, tired of this whole affair, and if this same lack of results continues for much longer, we will turn our attention to more productive causes.”
“In other words, you intend to give up,” Rose Petal said, her expression dark in disapproval.
“What else do you expect me to do?” the Grand Mage retorted. “It has been three weeks since the banishment of Princess Luna. We moved the princess from Everfree Castle to Canterlot, erased nearly all reminders of her sister from Canterlot Castle. If she still cannot get over her heartache, then she is the only one to blame for her weakness.”
At that, Rose Petal’s normally demure features were set ablaze by her piercing green eyes, so unnatural a hue compared to the pastel colors of her coat and mane that they looked otherworldly. Those eyes were her greatest weapon, and now they were positively livid as she stopped in her tracks and glared at Starswirl. “Weakness?” she repeated in a low, deadly voice. “Is it such weakness to feel, to love, to hurt? Princess Celestia was forced to do the unthinkable that night, and now she is suffering because of it. She cannot simply ‘get over it.’ She needs time to grieve and ponies to comfort her.”
“Both of which are luxuries she cannot afford,” Starswirl said. He glanced around the deserted hallway warily, as if expect spies to jump out of the potted plants, before saying in a low, hushed voice, “Have you not heard the rumors, Miss Petal? The whispers and murmurs that vibrate through the air of this very castle, as well as across the land? Princess Celestia’s dominion over Equestria is wavering. Ponies are beginning to question the details of Princess Luna’s rebellion and banishment, and those questions are blazing like a wildfire, engulfing the truth and replacing it with lies that may very well threaten the crown. I will not have a weak ruler in such times of crisis. Either Princess Celestia will become a ruler of strength, or she will be replaced with somepony that is. Either way, she will do it alone.”
The mare’s scowl only darkened. “That is no excuse for abandoning her. It is a sad day indeed when even Equestria’s princess is denied love and friendship. And if you possessed but an ounce of those qualities, you would understand that!”
“I am her Grand Mage,” Starswirl reminded Rose Petal coldly. “I serve in her Court on her Council. I am not her foalsitter.”
“Yet you still speak of treason.”
“I speak of reality!” shouted Starswirl with a stomp of his front hoof. “Princess Celestia is nineteen years of age—“
“—barely older than a filly—“
“—and should be responding to this situation with maturity befitting her station. As for me, there is nothing I can do for her. There is no spell for bringing a pony back to rational thinking, except perhaps a slap in the face, of course.”
“No, that can’t be the only answer,” Rose Petal insisted while her mind desperately scrambled for a convincing argument. “I… I may not know much about magic,” the earth pony began, “ but the princess always wakes up from her nightmares at exactly midnight every night. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
Starswirl scrutinized the mare intently before saying, “It means that it is late, and both of us should be retiring to bed,” he answered curtly. “Goodnight, Miss Petal.”
Rose Petal watched as the Arch Mage retreated back the way he came. She waited until his cobalt blue tail disappeared with a swish as he turned the corner before letting out a sigh that came out sounding more like a suppressed sob.
Something’s not right about all this; I know it, she thought, impatiently wiping away frustrated tears from her eyes, letting a spark of determination shine through. And I’m going to find out what.
“Princess? Princess Celestia!”
A firm caramel hoof shook the princess out of her drooling stupor. “Huh?” Celestia asked, raising her head from the mahogany desk, only to realize she was most certainly not in her bed chambers, but in her office, with her head financial advisor looking sternly down at her.
“I-I’m sorry!” Celestia stammered, a nervous blush forming on her cheeks. “I was listening to you; I was just signing some documents.”
“Oh?” Apple Harvest asked with a lifted eyebrow. “Since when did you start signing papers with your left cheek, princess?”
Celestia lifted a hoof to her cheek and was appalled to find it smeared with ink. Her bloodshot eyes looked down to find an overturned inkwell, with the black substance steadily oozing from the top. Her blush spread in tandem with the growing puddle.
The princess hung her head in defeat. “I’m sorry,” she said, not taking her eyes off the ground. “I’ll clean it up.”
Apple Harvest watched with growing concern as Celestia wearily trudged across the room to get a washcloth, then stifled a yawn as she wiped it up.
“You didn’t sleep again, did you, princess?” Apple Harvest asked gently.
“What?” Celestia asked, her words slurred. “No, of course I slept.”
“For how long?”
“Um… two hours?”
Apple Harvest sighed. “I understand how torn up you must be about Princess Luna, but the Mage Council is doing all they can to devise some method to bring her back to Equestria. Your sister’s fate is in capable hooves with them, so the best thing you can do for yourself is concentrating on the needs of Equestria as well as… Princess Celestia? Can you hear me?”
Celestia’s eyes were glazed and unfocused, staring at a specific part of the wall opposite her with frightening intensity, yet not really seeing anything at all. “The music,” she whispered, “can you hear it?”
Apple Harvest perked up his ears, straining for the slightest sound, before he shook his head. “I hear nothing, princess.”
Celestia sighed. “I did not think you would,” she lamented, her voice like that of one half in a dream. “It’s the singing. I keep hearing it, over and over again, in my nightmares and now my waking moments as well. It’s why I can never sleep; I keep listening to it all night, until it drives me mad, as I try to understand the lyrics. It… it terrifies me, because it sounds so ominous and foreboding. And yet I love it, even as it destroys my mind. It’s the only time I can hear her voice.”
Okay, that’s downright creepy, Apple Harvest thought to himself as he watched the princess start swaying back and forth dizzily. Still, she’s awfully tired…
“Princess, why don’t we just take a break for a few minutes?” her advisor suggested. “It’ll give you some time to catch up on some sleep.”
Celestia’s eyes nearly popped out of her head at the thought. “No, I can’t!” she cried, already grabbing for random papers in her panic. “I can’t possibly shirk my duties! There’s still so much to do, and I—“
Her protests were cut off as Apple Harvest placed two reassuring hooves over hers. “Celestia, please look at me,” he asked.
Celestia slowly lifted her eyes, puffy and bloodshot with tears. Dark crescent moons cast a shadow over the sun princess’ eyes, now so dull and empty, as if her own sunlight refused to reflect off those vacant orbs of glass. It was like staring into the eyes of a corpse.
She’s getting worse. “Celestia, you’re beyond sleep deprived,” Apple Harvest began, “and you’ll be doing more harm than good by pushing yourself so hard. There’s nothing more you can do here.”
He glanced out the window at the sundial stationed in the center of the courtyard. “Now, we have twenty minutes until Day Court begins, and we can’t have you falling asleep during that. So why don’t you take a nap right here, and then I’ll wake you up when it’s time to go, alright?”
The clunk of her head against the desk was her only response.
“…And that is why I demand that the Blueblood Estate be the first to receive government reimbursement for the damages caused by the Lunar Rebellion!”
Celestia internally groaned, not so much because of the noble’s complaint, which she had grown almost accustomed to hearing over the past three weeks, but because of the skull-splitting headache she was enduring. A few days ago, she would have been grateful for the jolt of pain keeping her awake, but now, not even that could keep her from dozing off. Only her sheer force of will kept her alert as she looked down upon the noble with a mask of false serenity.
“As you well know, We are doling out financial aid region by region, beginning with those whose homes were the most severely affected,” Celestia said, her regal voice ringing with authority. “The Bluebloods, on the other hoof, have three other mansions in Equestria, one of which is in the very heart of Canterlot. Forgive Us, Lord Blueblood, but We fail to see the urgency that would warrant such an exception.”
The proud white unicorn was left with his mouth agape. “But Your Majesty,” Lord Blueblood protested, “the manor has been left in shambles! The roof’s been smashed, the floors are caving in, the dark magic is beginning to overrun—!“
As the noble was sent away grumbling, Celestia suppressed a cry of pain as the haunting music from her nightmare started up again with full force.
Not here, not now! she pleaded, looking down at all the nobles still sitting in their wooden benches and looking up at her. I can’t make a scene!
Closing her eyes, Celestia briefly used her magic connection to check the sun’s precise position in the sky. Ten minutes until Day Court ends, she thought in relief. I can handle ten more minutes. After letting her eyes wander over her guards and council that surrounded her, just to affirm that she was indeed trapped atop her golden throne, the princess let out an inaudible sigh. Ten whole minutes.
“Presenting the final petitioner of the day, Your Highness,” announced the unicorn guard by the door.
Thank the stars, Celestia rejoiced, even as she fought to tune out the moaning and wailing melody in her head. Stop it, she ordered in annoyance. Stop it!
The golden double doors were opened to allow a blue earth pony stallion to trot down the center aisle. At once, the din of court was hushed, though not out of reverence but disdain. Some of the nobles muttered to themselves warily as he walked past; he looked so out of place compared to Canterlot’s high society. He wore no clothing, his steel grey mane was an unkempt mess of tangled barbed wire, and yet he still walked with a confident stride, paying no attention to the whispers floating around him. Instead, he kept his fire-gold eyes fixated straight in front of him, until he genuflected at the base of Celestia’s dais.
“Iron Strike of Trottingham, Your Highness,” he announced boldly, only to add fuel to the incessant chatter of the court.
Oh for heaven’s sake, you’d think poor ponies were as legendary as dragons, Celestia thought irritably. Still, the stallion did peak her interest. Trottingham was hundreds of miles away from Canterlot; the journey must have taken at least two weeks, and judging by his haggard appearance, it must not have been an easy trip. This must be important.
“Rise, Iron Strike,” the princess ordered, “and state your petition to the Crown.”
Celestia’s magenta eyes widened as Iron Strike matched her serene gaze with one of burning hatred. “Princess Celestia,” he began, “I demand to know the reason why there has been no increase of the Royal Guard around Canterlot Castle in light of the Lunar Rebellion.”
The princess raised a questioning eyebrow. That was all? “We can assure you that Our safety is well in hoof, and that—“
“You misunderstand me, princess,” Iron Strike interrupted, cueing an overdramatic gasp from the court. “I speak not of your protection, but that of all of Equestria against you.”
What was once a hushed murmur now rose to a nervous babble as ponies shared worried conversations with their neighbors. Even Celestia was taken by surprise. “Why would you believe We are a threat to Equestria?” she asked.
“Because of the Lunar Rebellion!” Iron Strike shouted with an angry stamp of his hoof. “Princess Luna went mad and wreaked havoc on Everfree City, as well as disrupted the cycle of day and night for the entire planet! Who is to say you will not do the same?”
“How dare you!” came the outraged cry of Lady Sunshine Diamonds as she emerged at the front of the nobles and rushed to the princess’ defense. “To think that Princess Celestia would succumb to such evil! You speak of treason, fiend!”
“My daughter died in Everfree City because of Princess Luna!” Iron Strike shouted, burning tears now dripping down his muzzle. “I will not allow the possibility of the same tragedy to befall anypony else! The very least that can be done is to ensure that the Royal Guard can guard us as well, can keep anypony else from losing a life!”
“SILENCE!” Celestia yelled, her Royal Canterlot Voice thundering above the pandemonium of the Day Court. At once, the room was instantly silent, as if her voice had cut out their tongues.
Even with his face doused in tears, Iron Strike did not flinch at Celestia’s gaze; rather, he remained defiant, as if wanting to challenge her to a fight.
Celestia was barely able to conceal the hurt behind her eyes. He treats me like an enemy, she lamented before her eyes frosted over in ice. Well then, an enemy is what he shall get.
The lords and ladies of Canterlot watched with baited breath as Celestia descended from her throne, each clink of her golden horseshoes echoing forebodingly in the silence, and began to march straight up to Iron Strike.
“Your Highness, wait!” called one of the guards at the base of her throne as he put up his hoof to stop her, while others pointed their spears at the stallion.
“Stand down,” she commanded her guards, her tone biting and unrelenting. “We will deal with this Ourselves.”
“But it’s not safe, princess!” protested another.
“According to this stallion, Our safety is not Equestria’s top priority,” Celestia retorted before brushing them aside with a wave of gold magic. A hundred fearful eyes bored into the princess like puncture wounds, but she ignored them all as she came to a standstill, just inches from Iron Strike’s face.
“Do you think I know naught of loss?” she demanded of the stallion. Her voice was quieter than a whisper, yet the cold anger behind the words made them more forceful than if she had been shouting them in the Royal Canterlot Voice. “Do you think you were the only pony who suffered that day? Then who do you think Princess Luna was to me?”
Iron Strike had lost all his courage by this point. He didn’t dare answer as the princess of the sun regarded him with a glare of coldest ice. “She was more than just my sister,” Celestia said. “She was the only pony who I knew would never leave me. No matter how many centuries I would live or how many loved ones I would watch die, she would remain by my side. She was the reason I could face the prospect of immortality with joy. And still, I took her for granted, believing in my naivety that I could have everything, and now, because I chose Equestria over her, I have nothing. Do you truly think I would go back on that sacrifice?”
Celestia ignored the swelling music in her head. “You want to kill me in revenge for what Luna did to your daughter, don’t you?” Her voice dropped to a blood-chilling whisper. “But you would be doing me the greatest mercy.”
Then holding her head high so that nopony could see her tears, Celestia stormed out of the throne room.
The sound of the golden doors slamming shut served to break the spell of silence cast over the room. At once, ponies began milling around in confusion, uncertain of what to do except for one particular noblemare.
“Celestia!” Sunshine Diamonds yelled, jostling the other nobles in a decidedly unladylike fashion as she fought to chase after her. Her sunhat fell off somewhere in the confusion, but she could honestly care less. With her teal curls whipping around her face like a hurricane, she threw open the door once again, and ignoring the protests of the guards, she darted off into the labyrinth of palace halls.
The pounding of her hooves against the stone floor provided a steadying beat in the midst of the chaotic music swirling about maddeningly in Celestia’s head, perfectly reflecting her inner feelings. Stupid, stupid, stupid! she cursed as she fled from the throne room. How could I have said those things, and in front of my own Court, no less! Oh, I won’t hear the end of this for months…
Eyes blinded by tears, she ran aimlessly through the castle until finally she stumbled her way outside into the castle courtyard. It was in the middle of a downpour, but she didn’t care. She didn’t have the energy to care. So she just collapsed in the bed of tulips, indifferent to the mud smudging her coat and crown. She curled herself into a tiny pink and white mass to keep herself from breaking, and let the dark sky scream down at her, all the while pretending it was just the rain dampening her cheeks and welling in her eyes.
She tried not to think too much about anything, yet the thoughts closest to her heart rose unbidden to the surface nevertheless. Could his fears be right? Could I really fall prey to the same evil like Luna? We don’t even know how it happened, but if it’s true that sorrow and hatred can indeed twist an alicorn like that… then I am a threat, aren’t I? They won’t be able to stop me. Nopony else can use the Elements of Harmony. I’ll end up condemning every living being in the world.
I need Luna back. She’s the only one who could save me or end me. I… I can’t go through this without her. I just want her to come home.
Sunshine’s galloping faltered when she saw Celestia crying in the garden. “Princess,” she murmured sadly, her icy blue eyes softened in pity. No, that wasn’t right. This was not the glorious ruler of Equestria that was letting her tears mingle with the rain. She was simply Celestia, a pony just like any other, now left all alone.
It was terrifying. Sunshine cast her eyes downward, not wanting to see her leader so broken. It was that fear that kept her rooted in place underneath the archway, sheltered from the rain. She shuffled her hooves nervously, wanting to help and yet unable to take the first step. She wanted to reach out, but the distance was too far, as far as the distance between heaven and earth, between a goddess and a pony who could never understand.
So with tears stinging in her eyes, Sunshine walked away, leaving Celestia crying in the rain.
“What do you mean you still haven’t found anything?” Celestia asked. Her eyes swept over the dozens of books, scrolls, and astrology charts, all scattered haphazardly throughout Starswirl’s private study, as if a hurricane had suddenly raged through, leaving nothing but a sea of parchment and ink in its wake. All of it had to be evidence of research, of progress, right?
“I meant exactly what I said, Princess Celestia,” Starswirl answered simply, not taking his eyes off the papers on his writing desk. “Regretfully, the Mage Council has been unable to form any sort of hypothesis on how to bring Princess Luna back to Equestria.”
“But it’s been three weeks!” Celestia protested. “How can you still not have results?”
Starswirl sighed and looked up at the princess. “We have formed several theories based on what little data we were able to gather, but none of them have yet to pass a preliminary phase of testing. After all, we’re still trying to figure out exactly what occurred that night.”
“The Elements of Harmony sent Luna to the moon,” Celestia said impatiently. “There’s nothing else to figure out.”
Starswirl raised an eyebrow. "Did they? As far as we are aware, the Elements of Harmony have no sentience. Their power must be activated and directed by the user, a fact to which you yourself have attested."
"How dare you," Celestia demanded in a dangerously low voice, her blood boiling and rising to the surface. "How dare you suggest that I willed my sister to be banished to such a horrible, horrible place! Despite anything between us, I still loved her! I still love her now! I would never send her away, never!"
Starswirl only watched her emotional outburst with his trademark indifference. "I am not insinuating anything, Your Highness," he answered calmly. "I am simply looking at the situation based on what I know."
"To Tartarus with what you know!" she screamed. "You know nothing; you said as much yourself!"
"Do not suggest such ineptitude from me," Starswirl ordered, his eyes narrowed into a scowl. "We are gathering information. We have knowledge, just not completely. Do not put words into my mouth, princess, for there may be no room left for the truth."
That reprimand seemed to sober her. "How can you not understand her banishment?" she asked in a quieter voice. "I gave you my testimony of what happened."
“Of which we are grateful, but you have only given us the what, not the how or why. The nature of her banishment is what the Mage Council is grappling with,” Starswirl replied. “On the night of Princess Luna’s banishment, the Elements of Harmony acted in a way that nopony predicted. You should not have been able to wield all six Elements by yourself, princess; the overload of magic should have killed you if you tried. The only reason you were able to wield three safely is due to you being an alicorn, a perfect, harmonious blending of all three pony tribes.”
Celestia internally groaned. She had heard this all before. “I don’t have time for repetition,” she declared testily.
“Neither do I, Princess Celestia,” Starswirl retorted, standing up from his chair. His Mage cloak skimmed the carpeted floor, causing his golden bells at the hem to rattle dully as he opened the door with an almost mocking bow. “I do not have any new information, no matter how many times a week you continue to come demanding it, but if you truly desire better results, then perhaps it would be wise for you to leave me to my work.” He jerked his bell-brimmed hat towards the door.
Celestia cast her eyes down in shame under Starswirl’s steely gaze, one that didn’t quite mask the dark circles under his eyes. She glanced back at the messy workplace, this time with a pang of guilt. He worked under Luna’s command for most of the time, didn’t he? Maybe I’m not the only pony who lost her that day.
“Starswirl?” Celestia asked tentatively just as he began to retreat into the depths of his personal library and his own thoughts. The quiet vulnerability in her voice was enough to make him stop and turn around to look directly into her eyes.
“Yes, Celestia?” he asked, his tone not quite as curt as before.
She pawed at the ground in a rare display of hesitation. “I understand that you don't have such extensive information, and there is no way of you knowing for sure, but in your opinion... do you think Luna’s okay on the moon? That is to say, do you think the Elements hurt her? Is she safe by herself? Is she cold or hungry or afraid? I hope she doesn’t feel too lonely, even though she probably is. Maybe she misses me, I don’t know.” Looking down, she added in a whisper, “I just want her to come home.”
Starswirl’s bright blue eyes were calculating, evaluating the somber princess, until he finally looked away in resignation. “Sit down, Celestia,” he ordered quietly as he returned to his desk.
“I don’t like the sound of this,” she said as she cautiously lowered herself onto the velvet-cushioned seat.
“I haven’t liked the sound of it for three weeks,” Starswirl replied, “but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s three weeks overdue.” He let out a tired sigh. “Princess Celestia, while I can assure you that the Mage Council will continue to look for a solution for as long as you command it, I… I believe it is time that you face the true reality of this situation.
“If there have ever been two things the Mage Council has been unable to comprehend in the field of magic, they are the Elements of Harmony and alicorns. Both are extremely powerful and complex forces, and both were discovered within this generation. And now we are presented with a situation that involves both enigmas colliding in such an unprecedented manner that Faust knows how many theories concerning the two have been utterly shattered because of it. That is the scope of the challenge that Princess Luna’s banishment left us. Thus, as much as we are working to uncover the mystery and bring about her return, we will not have a solution ready for you in days, princess. I even doubt months or years will cover the time will take. And even if a plausible theory is formed, putting into action a project of such magnitude will most likely span several generations of mages. Unless blessed with a miracle of a breakthrough, I believe that is the time frame you are faced with, princess.”
Celestia listened to every word Starswirl said. Then she played it over and over again, syllable by syllable in her head, until the nonsense words had been branded into her mind and heart. For that was what they were to her. Utterly incomprehensible nonsense. Like the music that haunted her day and night, she knew every word, yet she didn’t understand at all. Since when did ‘Luna,’ ‘return,’ and ‘several generations’ go together? What did they mean?
“Well, alright then.” She almost couldn’t recognize that calm, collected voice as hers. There wasn’t even a single break in her words.
She lifted a delicate hoof to her eye. There were no tears. Maybe she was too tired to care about crying, about anything ever again. Her whole body felt numb, like she had been encased in ice. But that was fine with her. It meant she wouldn’t have to feel the pain.
“Should we say around three hundred years for the sake of optimism?” Celestia said with a laugh. She wanted to cry from how bitter and cruel it sounded.
Starswirl nodded solemnly, his eyes softened in pity. “I’m so sorry, princess.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she answered with the hollowness of a dull bell. “You were right to tell me.” There it was. No crying, no screaming, no denial. Just acceptance.
Celestia bowed her head, letting her pink mane swirl around her like a curtain, concealing her from the world that had managed to flip itself upside down in less than a minute. She thought back to what she had said earlier, all her worries about Luna’s wellbeing. How shallow and daft those concerns seemed now.
How will Luna cope up there, in complete isolation for hundreds of years? What will happen to her after all that time? Will she still be the sister I love? Will she still hate me for what I did, what I had to do? Will she lose her mind with loneliness and not remember me at all? Will she even remember my name? Will she think that I forgot her, left her behind to be all alone?
Earlier that day, Celestia had believed there could only be two options that could from this crisis. Either her sister would come back as Luna or as Nightmare Moon. But now, realizing just how naïve that notion had been, she came to understand that there was an all too real and terrifying third option.
Luna could not come back at all.
Unwillingly, Celestia found herself getting up and walking towards the door. A distant part of her wanted to scream, to do something, anything other than calmly walk out as if nothing had happened at all. It wanted to fight for that sliver of a chance, that cruel, illogical hope that held her heart by a fragile thread only to be sliced to pieces by reality, but the chains of grief that weighed on her heart kept it silent. So her gait remained steady, and her eyes clearer than the sunniest day. If a stranger had seen her then, he or she would have thought she was perfectly at peace with the world.
Oh, how wrong that was.
Celestia let the haunting music fill her head, silencing her thoughts.
“How could you tell her such a thing?!”
Starswirl winced as Rose Petal caught the attention of yet another pair of royal guards, this time with her impossibly high screeching that left his eardrums ringing. How she didn't manage to break the sound barrier, he didn't know. Just another trait he chalked up to the enigma of mares. “Honestly, you make it out to be like I told her Princess Luna had been condemned to Tartarus. I simply told her the truth; she had to find out some time.”
“Yes, but not like that!” Rose Petal screeched, shaking her head in disbelief at his tactlessness. Just another puzzling thing about stallions. “Not now, not at a time like this!”
“You didn’t see her when she was getting ready to leave,” Starswirl said in his defense. “The way she was talking about Princess Luna not getting too cold at night, that she wasn’t too scared about being by herself; she sounded like an overprotective mare worrying about her filly’s first week away at camp!”
“She’s in denial,” she stated simply. “It’s a part of the grieving process. She needs time to come to terms with that night, and you pushing her won’t make her any readier. You have to wait until the time is right.”
“Is the time ever right?” Starswirl asked fiercely as they ascended the spiral staircase of the Solar Tower. “Are any of us ever truly ready to face something like that? Do you think the families of those drafted into the military were ready to hear about such tragedy? Were you ready to learn that Starlight Willow was killed in the Lunar Rebellion?”
Rose Petal winced at the name. “No,” she whispered, the little word catching in her throat. “No, I wasn’t.”
Starswirl watched in shock as Rose Petal hid her face behind her turquoise mane, her emotions indicated only by a few subdued, hiccupping sobs. “I… I’m sorry,” he apologized, turning away as he mentally kicked himself. “That was tactless.”
“Yes,” she agreed with a little smile as she wiped away the forming tears. “Yes it was. I can see now why you spend all your time cooped up in your tower.”
“Well, apparently I wasn’t safe up there today, not with what happened with the princess. But still, I don’t take back the things I said to her. I want her to prepare her heart so she can endure all the hardship that will befall her, but how can she when she doesn’t even fully grasp what’s happening?”
“I understand, but still, I wish you didn’t have to take away her hope,” Rose Petal replied. “She might have made it through with that. It was the only thing she was relying on. You shouldn’t have taken that away from her or anypony, not now or ever.”
“Even when that hope is based on a lie?” asked Starswirl, his eyes narrowed. “As much as you believe an invisible rope is there for you to cling to, if it doesn’t exist, it won’t keep you from falling off the cliff.”
“But it makes you feel better,” she said, more to herself than to Starswirl, as she gazed forlornly out onto the horizon. “You can just keep imagining invisible ropes holding you up so you don’t have to know how far you’re falling. Sometimes things are just better left unsaid; it’s easier that way. Sometimes it’s the only way you can be happy.”
“Then you don’t think I made the right decision, do you?” Starswirl asked. It wasn’t harsh or defensive, merely a soft-spoken plea for direction.
Just then, a loud, wounded wailing sounded from within Celestia’s chambers.
Rose Petal turned to look at Starswirl with her piercing green eyes. “I suppose I’ll find out.”
“RRRAAAAAAHHHH!”
Rose Petal jumped back out of the doorway as a priceless porcelain vase from Saddle Arabia went flying through the air, only to shatter as it hit the nearest wall.
“Princess!” she cried, her eyes wide with shock. The bedroom was in shambles, with tapestries torn down, books tossed off their shelves, and shards of pottery lying in seas of orange and yellow. Meanwhile, Philomena had long since given up on placating her mistress in favor of cowering on her perch in the darkest corner. And Celestia was sitting in the midst of the chaos, writing in a crazed frenzy at her desk, and every so often she would add to the disaster by throwing anything within her range.
“Rose!” Celestia exclaimed with a start, looking around at the havoc she had caused. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll fix everything later, but I need to get this accursed music out of my head!”
Rose Petal took that as a sign of sanity, so she cautiously advanced, taking care to not step on any jagged pieces of glass, until she was looking directly over Celestia’s shoulder.
Whatever the princess was writing, it definitely wasn’t in any language Rose Petal recognized, although it did consist of the Equestrian alphabet. She watched as Celestia wrote at breakneck speed, her quill jerking to the next line almost mechanically. She wrote without the slightest pause to think, creating a continuous line of scrawled hoofwriting. Despite it being nonsensical gibberish, the princess’ eyes narrowed in utmost concentration as she read the words, only to grow frustrated and throw something again.
Finally, Celestia threw the quill down and massaged her weary eyes with her hooves. “This is what I don’t understand, Rose,” she said with an exasperated sigh as she levitated the parchment for her maid to see. “I keep hearing this in my head over and over all day and night, and… oh, it’s hard to explain exactly why, but there’s this split second where I can understand every word, but the moment I do a double-take and really think about it like now, the meaning just slips away like sand, and I can’t remember it at all, but whatever it means, it’s driving me insane, and… and… I just can’t.”
“Princess,” Rose Petal began with a soft, sad kind of pity, “this doesn’t have anything to do with what Grand Mage Starswirl told you about your sister, does it?”
“No, just no,” Celestia cried, growing agitated again. “Please, just… don’t even mention that for now. It’s bad enough having to worry about this mess; I don’t think I can deal with both at the same time. I already feel like my head is going to melt down.”
Rose Petal nodded. “I understand, but if I may, I don’t believe torturing yourself over such a phantom melody is helping any.”
“I know, but it’s just… this is the only thing I can do,” Celestia said. “I feel so powerless right now. I couldn’t save Luna, I don’t know if I can save Equestria, and I’m certainly not saving myself by this point. My mind is one of the few things of worth that I can control, and the music along with it. Perhaps I believe it can save Luna, and perhaps I don’t, but either way I need to try something. That’s... that's the cruel thing about hope. It feeds off desperation. As reality grows ever more apparent, hope will make the fantasies of madmares seem as limitless as the sea. It only makes our dreams burn brighter as the door swings shut, plays with our hearts like a puppet master, and when the door finally closes, it just takes that heart and crushes it.”
“It is not a weakness to hope, princess,” Rose Petal said.
Celestia closed her eyes, hiding her heart filled with sorrow. “It is when a fragile lifeline is your only salvation.”
Rose Petal wanted to cry as she watched the young princess struggle to regain composure against the rising tidal wave of tears behind her eyes. Celestia wasn’t the only pony to feel powerless as Rose stood by, unable to give any sort of comfort. She gently laid a reassuring hoof on Celestia’s shoulder, as if her touch could impart all the strength and peace that she so desperately wished she could give.
“I’m fine, Rose,” Celestia murmured soothingly, her magenta eyes smiling up at her. “I’m sorry I got off track. Was there something you wished to tell me?”
No, I can’t do it, Rose Petal wanted to cry as she watched the young princess look up at her, with absolutely no idea why Rose was here, just like every other day. Perhaps it was mental regression, or maybe it was the hope against reason that today Rose would give any answer other than the one that caused her such heartbreak. It’s too cruel, she lamented, tears veiling her green eyes in a dull mist. Too horribly cruel.
“It… It’s time for you to raise the moon.”
Head bent to the ground, Celestia made her silent procession out onto the balcony. Although, it wasn’t silent in the regular sense, what with the lonely whistling of the wind, only to be broken by the murmuring conversations of last-minute stragglers in the streets below. But Celestia was deaf to it all, the numbness of earlier spreading to encompass all her senses, sealing them off from the world. She hardly registered the soft pitter-patter of her hooves against the white marble as the curtains parted to reveal the Solar Balcony and the horizon beyond.
The late afternoon wind whipped at Celestia’s face, sending her pink mane into a chaotic frenzy, yet her expression remained perfectly serene, almost as if it had been molded there permanently. She kept her gaze focused in front of her for the most part, although she did sneak a few swift glances behind her, where Rose Petal and five other maids were waiting. Through the curtain of pink shielding her face, she looked side to side at the six guards, three pegasi and three unicorns, stationed on the balcony. She felt their tense gazes locked on her as she stopped at center stage, raised her head, and prepared to perform her part.
From her high perch, she could see the ponies of Canterlot milling about town in the last flicker of daylight. How distant they all felt to her, like being surrounded by aliens, even though the only truly alienated and out of place pony was herself. Not quite a goddess but not quite a pony, leaving her trapped in the middle with nowhere to go.
Celestia looked up to the very peaks of the mountaintops, where the sun hovered just out of reach of their razor-sharp tips. She glared down the burnt, angry-red eye that sent scalding waves of pain over her like water boiled in the hellfire of vice. Sloth and gluttony were its sins, a bloated visage that took up far too much space in the sky, but most of all, it was too prideful, far too prideful. How pretentious it was, how horrid an abomination it was, as it abided sedentary in the heavens in solitude, as if it was the sovereign of it all. Well, Celestia would prove it wrong.
With a swipe of magic, she sent its ugly head crashing onto the mountain spikes below.
Celestia watched in satisfaction as the crimson stain gave way to swirling indigos and purples. Now came the hardest part. Closing her eyes and gritting her teeth to bite back a cry, the sun princess began to channel magic into her ivory horn. The air felt charged with electricity, magic sent flowing in broad, sweeping currents across the sky. For this reason, it was said that twilight was the perfect time for powerful spell casting, as unicorns could actually pick up tiny fragments of the princess’ own magic.
That magic now reached out to cradle the moon from its resting place below the horizon and prepare it for its ascent. Celestia felt her whole body trembling as she touched that cold, aloof presence of the moon, the aura that mixed with her tears to form the bitter sorrow that made her think of the pony she had lost.
I miss you, Luna, Celestia wanted to cry out. I miss all those little, beautiful things about you. The things I never noticed, the things I took for granted. Like today, I kept thinking you would use the Organ to the Outside to suddenly appear in Day Court right next to me, as if you never left. I always loved it when you did, even if I didn’t show it. I wish I never yelled at you for doing that back home. I… I wish I could take back so many things.
Why am I just now starting to realize how wrong I was? You were never useless, Luna, because then why do I need you so desperately now? Please, Luna, I can’t do this by myself, not without you. I’m already breaking apart after three weeks; what will I be like in thirty years? Three hundred? Three thousand years without you? Please don’t make me find out. I would give my life just to see you one more time. Just for a second, I want you to light up my life.
Now I can only see grey, because you were the colors of my life, Luna. Red was the paper heart, signed in crayon, that you gave to me on your first Hearts and Hooves Day, the day you first said you loved me. Orange was the ribbon I tied in your mane for your first Grand Galloping Gala, the one you wanted to keep because it looked like my sunset. Yellow was the halo that lit up your eyes when you saw me raise the sun for the first time. Green was the bunch of grass you got stuck in your mane when I chased you around the castle gardens on our first day in Castle Everfree. Blue was the blanket with moons and stars that you dragged with you when you wanted to sleep in my room on the first night we were given separate chambers. And purple… purple was the sky at twilight when you and I shifted the heavens together for the first time, the night I never appreciated until now.
So many firsts, but I suppose they’re all over now. Everything’s over. It’s all different, it’s all changed with you gone. I know it’s no good to close my eyes either, because then I’ll hear or smell or taste something else that reminds me of you. How… How do you do it? How are you in my entire world, inside my heart, and then gone the moment I look away? How are you somewhere, everywhere, and then nowhere at all?
Celestia raised her eyes to see her sister’s beloved moon now hanging in the sky. The image of Mare in the Moon looked down upon the sun princess accusingly, its hollow crater eyes brimming with tears of starlight.
“No!” Celestia screamed, gripping the balcony railing to steady herself as tears blinded her vision. Sister, I don’t want to be alone, the grieving moon seemed to whisper. Sister, why didn’t you save me? “I’m sorry, Luna!” she howled, the volume burning her throat raw. “I’m sorry!”
“Stop,” she murmured, covering her ears as the music in her head took a sharp crescendo, like driving a spike through her skull. “Just make it stop.”
And suddenly she was in her dream again, with fires blazing up around her and cries of fear echoing in the streets. Celestia swayed from vertigo as she looked down from her balcony, down, down, down into the darkness where Luna had fallen.
“If you truly wanted to save me, all you needed to do was catch me before I fell.”
This was it. This was her chance to save her. With a loud cry, Celestia hurled herself off the balcony, only to then be immediately caught by the six guards stationed there for this exact occurrence. She kicked and trashed wildly in their grasp as they forcefully dragged her away from the edge.
“No!” she cried, biting and kicking and screaming as her guards hauled her into her chambers. “Let me go, let me go! She’s falling!”
Celestia’s eyes were wide in horror as the maids quickly pulled in the curtains, cutting off all view of the moon above. “Luna, I’m sorry!” she screamed, tears streaming from her eyes. “Don’t leave, don’t leave me!”
Celestia still fought valiantly for her freedom, even as the guards pinned her struggling body down to her bed. Her randomly fired spells were countered, her flapping wings were pushed to the sides of her body, and her kicking hooves impeded by ones of even greater strength. Meanwhile, her maids and attendants did their best to calm her down against her wailing and screaming by casting soothing spells or simply whispering comforting words. Finally, Celestia surrendered and fell asleep, her silk blanket damped with tears.
That was it. The storm had blown over. Everypony’s tense muscles relaxed as their adrenaline dipped down, leaving them all at ease yet a little worn out. Then, with sighs of relief all around, the ponies one by one trotted out of the room, closing the door to shroud the event in secret from the world for yet another night.
Finally, only Rose Petal was left, with only a slightly guilty conscience and a certain piece of parchment pressed against her hooves.
Daybreak had now risen once more over the peaceful land of Equestria. Like that of one rising from a restful night’s sleep, the sun swelled over the vast horizon with newfound renewal. It was adorned in the finery of softest yellow and purest white, like a filly in a summer dress, and when she danced, the endless layers of skirts fanned out to send light rippling across the awakening earth. And she did dance, and quite merrily at that, with her youthful face smiling down upon all her little ponies, her dear friends that she would greet with the simplest gift of her life-giving radiance. In her eagerness, she soared high above the mountaintops, setting them ablaze, like lighting candles with her own fire. However, this fire was not one of destruction and mourning, but like the fire of zeal for life itself that burned brightly in the hearts of all ponies. The golden rays of sunlight rang like trumpets, as the Dawn’s laughter and jubilation heralded another day.
And Rose Petal certainly wasn’t letting a single moment of that day go to waste as she hurried down the castle hallways, their sky blue paint job now overpowered by the golden sunlight that streamed through the windows. The light easily illuminated the dark circles under Rose Petal’s eyes, a result of little sleep and abundant worry. Her bleary eyes winced at the harsh sunlight as she stifled a yawn and a daydream of her soft bed that was calling her name all the way from the East Wing. Despite her weariness, her steps were firm with purpose, echoing loudly through the mostly deserted hallways.
At this early hour, it was a natural emptiness. On her solitary trek, Rose Petal only encountered a few maids, many of who paused to smile and wave before returning to their various duties. Rose Petal herself tugged bashfully at her gold and white maid uniform, half out of a desire to fix the creases and wrinkles left from her hastiness in getting ready, and half out of shame. Even though she had left before the first dance of the dawn, this meeting would be cutting it close to her morning duties.
Looking out at the rising sun, Rose Petal sighed. Shirking responsibilities was a fair price for putting to rest the questions that had been bouncing around her head all night, even if some of those questions might not have the most desirable of answers.
Finally, Rose Petal ascended the spiral staircase to arrive outside Starswirl’s office. She primly rapped her hoof against the door; then, not even waiting for an answer, she pushed it open and strode in.
Rose Petal watched as Starswirl sent a myriad of multi-colored pieces of chalk racing across s long blackboard in the back of the room. Along with chalkdust and discarded ideas, they left in their wake series of complex equations and diagrams, all overlapping and merging together into a rainbow of genius that would make most ponies’ heads spin. Occasionally he would step back and take in the whole jumbled mess before being struck by inspiration’s magic and jump into the fray with renewed vigor once again. He was in his element of invention, a mere agent of the world’s brilliance, which his mind was all too willing to lose itself in. And despite the constant string of grumbling and muttering under his breath, Rose Petal was also sure she saw the shadow of a smile.
So lost was he in his work that it took the Grand Mage several seconds before he registered the intrusion, paused from his frantic scribbling on his chalkboard, and looked up at the presumptuous pony who dared violate his sanctum of knowledge. Biting retorts and reprimands sprang to his tongue before dying as he recognized the face.
“Rose Petal, how delightful to see you,” he greeted in a tone that said he was not delighted in the slightest. “To what do I owe the very early pleasure?”
“You may want to rethink that last part,” Rose Petal remarked grimly. “If what I’ve been worrying about all night is true, then this meeting will be anything but a pleasure.”
With a sigh, Starswirl brushed the chalk off his hooves and walked over to his desk. He then motioned for Rose Petal to follow suit, gesturing to the velvet-padded chair Celestia had occupied yesterday. “Alright,” he groaned. “Let’s see this.”
Rose Petal stuck her hoof into the pocket of her maid uniform and extracted a worn piece of parchment. “Princess Celestia wrote this last night,” she said, soothing the folds on the desk so Starswirl could read.
Starswirl narrowed his eyes at the parchment. “This isn’t written in any language I know of,” he remarked, levitating it to examine it closer. “It’s utter gibberish, unintelligible to ponies. Unless it’s some form of code… wait… no, is it really…?”
“I figured you would pick up on it earlier than I did,” Rose Petal said as she watched Starswirl fumble for a quill. “I couldn’t figure it out, and at first I was ready to dismiss it as a product of the princess’ deteriorating mental state. I mean, one would think it’s nonsensical, at least when written like this:
“Morf gonlets ady gihnt deslish reh feca, Ubt fare eth tengist fo tath gihlt. Rof srast nowk ugnath fo cre’mys regca, Ubt siwents sa mardes rubn ni gihft.”
“Yes, yes,” Starswirl brushed aside impatiently, already writing on a new piece of parchment. “But when the letters are switched, it reads:
“From longest day night shields her face, But fear the setting of that light. For stars know naught of mercy’s grace, But witness as dreams burn in flight.”
At the translation of the last word, Starswirl set the quill down and read the new message, over and over, his eyes growing wider each time. “You said Princess Celestia wrote this?” he asked, worry leaking into his quavering voice.
“Yes,” Rose Petal answered. “Last night, when I went to see her. She said she had been hearing it repeated as a melody inside her head, both in her nightmares and waking moments.”
“This isn’t a natural occurrence,” said Starswirl. “She couldn’t have thought this up, not even subconsciously. She’s being affected by what my best guess is some sort of mental telepathy magic.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Rose Petal admitted. “I stayed up doing research on it, and from sudden lapses in attention to jarring attitude switches, she’s shown all the symptoms of some external force using telepathy on her. What’s more, Princess Celestia is already in a state of vulnerability; we can’t tolerate an enemy of the Crown corrupting her mind like this. I came to you because I don’t know of anypony with both the motive and capability to cast such a spell. It must be a very powerful unicorn—“
“Magic user,” Starswirl corrected.
Rose Petal raised a questioning eyebrow. “Isn’t that the same thing?”
"Not if you’re including the race that uses magic to shift the heavens each day.” Starswirl glanced out the window at the brightly shining sun before casting somber eyes down to the ground. “Or used to, at least,” he amended with a heavy sigh.
“You’re not suggesting…”
“The corrupted Princess Luna, yes,” said Starswirl, his eyes burning with an almost frightening intensity in his resolve. “She’s exactly who I’m suggesting.”
“But how would that be possible?” Rose Petal asked. “Princess Luna is sealed on the moon; her weakened magic shouldn’t be able to reach Equestria.”
“She can do it the same way she raised the moon from Equestria: she has a bond with it. The same principle holds true between her and Princess Celestia. The bond of sisters, alicorns, the sun and the moon, the Elements of Harmony; take your pick. Any one of those is strong enough to form an emotional bond that Princess Luna could use to channel magic through. Then, like a rope connecting them, magic can be conducted along it and focused directly onto Princess Celestia. At least, that’s my hypothesis. Of course, there has been no precedent, but it isn’t impossible.”
“But if that is the case,” Rose Petal began, “then what does Princess Luna intend on doing? And what of the music? Why was it transmitted like this?”
The Mage’s eyes narrowed in concentration as he sat deep in thought. “It wasn’t,” answered Starswirl, his voice growing steadily graver. “There must be some distortion, either a malfunction with Princess Luna’s magic, an interference with the spell as it came down, or even a block on Princess Celestia’s mind. Whatever the case, the purpose behind it still remains. It was clearly sent as a message, a warning for the princess. And apparently, it also came with the intentional or unintentional side effect of slowly driving her into madness.”
“And the nightmares she’s been having,” Rose Petal added, her face blanching at the seriousness of the situation. “They weren’t normal either. They were sent at midnight, the height of her power, so she could penetrate the princess’ subconscious.” She looked up at Starswirl, her eyes etched with worry. “And it’s getting worse. Starswirl, what does this mean? What’s happening to her?”
The air around them weighed heavy upon their shoulders as Starswirl sighed. “Princess Luna is taking over her mind,” he declared, “and will most likely not stop until it is completely broken. You read her message: she wants to torture her out of vengeance for the Lunar Rebellion. She intends for her dreams, her hope, her very being to be consumed in the flames of grief and madness. And I believe this is only the beginning. If Princess Celestia falls under her control, she can use her to indirectly spread her power throughout all of Equestria. One by one, we will all succumb to that same insanity.”
“It makes sense,” Rose Petal breathed, horrified. “If she can’t control our waking moments, she’ll take our dreaming ones.”
Starswirl nodded. “We will be forever trapped in our own worst nightmares.”
“And she’s started with Celestia.”
Atop the highest hill in Canterlot, a solitary mare stood and watched the sun crest over the horizon. Like a gentle hand, it swept over the world and brushed aside the shadows to unveil the lonely figure. First her gently falling hair of aquamarine streaked with platinum, then her rich amethyst coat, and finally the cluster of silver stars that was her cutie mark, as the sunlight splayed across her body like a spotlight.
Her eyes winced at the onslaught of light. She had never liked sunrises; they always made her feel too naked, too vulnerable. You couldn’t hide from sunlight. It was too exposing, giving the paranoid, irrational feeling that one beam of light could bury deep down into her heart and illuminate her secrets for all the world to see.
It was the same feeling she got whenever she looked into Celestia’s eyes.
The steady thudding of hooves broke the mare out of her reverie. With the slightest turn of the head, she watched Iron Strike walk up to her and wordlessly sink into a respectful bow before taking his place at her right hoof.
“You were a little emotional in Court yesterday, weren’t you, Iron?” she asked by way of introduction.
The stallion’s posture stiffened, the fur on the nape of his neck bristling. “I apologize. It will not happen again, Lady Starlight,” he replied, his joints bending robotically into another bow.
Fits of laughter sputtered from the noblemare at the sight. “Oh honestly, Iron, you needn’t be so tense about everything,” she reassured him. “Emotion shows you are loyal to the cause, something any valiant spearhead of justice needs. It may be a messier affair than my methods, but it gets attention. And we want Celestia’s attention, to have her watch as we cause her to fall and crash, while we laugh at it all.”
“I didn’t come here to laugh, my lady,” he answered, a slight frown etched on his face. “I came to serve justice; that’s all.”
“Certainly, but surely you can find some satisfaction in it too, can you not?” she teased.
When he remained stoic, Lady Starlight broadly swept her hoof out to the golden horizon. “Do you see that sunrise?” she asked. “Well, enjoy it. Enjoy every last ray of it, because this day will be Princess Celestia’s last. Today we go to war.”
Her turquoise eyes flashed as she felt the sun tremble with her words.
“And today we start with her.”
The words tasted like rusting iron and weighed just as much on Rose Petal’s tongue. The gravitas of it all threatened to suffocate her, when the worst hadn’t even come to pass. But it would come. That she was sure of. They were just mice in an ever-shrinking cage, just waiting for the walls to crush them. She thought of the friends she had waved to that morning; they had been so cheerful yet so oblivious to the mortal peril that awaited them all. Was it better that way? Even if they knew, what good would it do? Their knowledge couldn’t do anything to stop it. Even in ignorance, to smile up to the last second wouldn’t be such a loss, would it?
Rose Petal looked up at Starswirl. Her bright green eyes followed the movements of his quill, but after a few jerking pauses, she could tell his attempts of a plan were half-hearted. He crumpled up the parchment and tossed it aside before taking out a new one and just staring into the void of blankness, lost for words for one of the few times in his entire life.
Helplessness. That was the look she saw in his eyes, and it terrified her. The Grand Mage Starswirl was never helpless. There was always something else he knew, an extra bit of knowledge and intuition that no other pony possessed. He had all the answers to all of life’s problems, or so it had always seemed. But now, this was entirely out of everypony’s league.
“Is there a way to disrupt the flow of magic?” Rose Petal asked, now clinging at straws. Maybe it was desperation, maybe hope; was there even a difference? Perhaps the princess had been on to something before. “That way, we could cut off the psychic link, right?”
“Not without irreversibly damaging both of the princess’ minds in the process,” Starswirl stated bluntly, his voice strangely hollow. “And we can’t incapacitate Princess Luna, either; it would require the same amount of power to bring her back to Equestria, yet another thing I’ve failed to do.”
“Then… then maybe we can…” Her eyes widened at the spark of an idea. “Wait, didn’t you say earlier that a mental block on Princess Celestia could be what caused the message’s distortion? Well, what if that block was intensified? It could block out the signal entirely, right?”
“And just how would that be accomplished?” Starswirl demanded as he got up and started pacing. “She was impervious to all the Mage Council’s spells.”
“But that was because you weren’t aware of the actual problem,” Rose Petal countered. “We can’t stop the nightmares once they come, but maybe we can shut down the trigger.”
“Trigger?”
“I… I believe that there’s a reason why she's starting to hear the music during the daytime,” Rose Petal began hesitantly. “I’ve noticed that whenever anypony mentions Princess Luna’s name, she flinches and closes her eyes for a second. Perhaps it indicates the music starting up again.”
“The connection widening through memory… yes, memory would leave her mind more open to Princess Luna’s influence,” Starswirl said. “Although, I don’t see how that helps us much. It’s not as though we can simply have her not remember the events of the Lunar Rebellion.”
“Or can we?” asked Rose Petal, her eyes glinting with something a bit too dark for Starswirl’s liking. “What do you say,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “to a little filly unable to handle the true burden of loss? ‘Mommy and Daddy are going on a long trip now, but you’ll see them again, don’t worry.’ Isn’t that right?” Her breathy whispers drawled with hushed scheming.
Starswirl’s eyes widened into saucers as his pacing screeched to a halt. He turned to face the mare, only to be met with deadly seriousness in her eyes. “You’re not saying—“
“Yes, I am,” Rose Petal announced darkly. “I want you to erase all of Princess Celestia’s memories of the Lunar Rebellion.”
Silence.
“That’s impossible, and you know it is, Rose Petal.”
“There is a spell though, is there not?” she demanded, getting up to join Starswirl by the window. “And I doubt there is a single spell the almighty Grand Mage of Canterlot cannot perform.”
“If I don’t mind spending the rest of my life in the dungeons for preforming an illegal spell, that is!” he snapped. “Besides, there is much more that would go into this type of magic than a mere incantation. I would have to specify exactly which memories to obliterate and alter, and then bridge the gaps with outright illusions.”
“But you can do it,” Rose Petal insisted.
“Even if I could, it wouldn’t last more than five minutes. Think of what would happen if she walked into Day Court, filled with petitions regarding Princess Luna, and have no idea who what anypony was talking about.”
“After her outburst from yesterday? I highly doubt anypony will dare ignite the princess’ wrath like that again. And even then, the Mage Council will be present. You can cast an alteration spell on the princess’ mind and make her say whatever she needs to, and with that ridiculous hat concealing your magic, nopony will be any the wiser. Now, will you please let me say my piece?”
“I say that we alter her memories to make her believe Princess Luna is on a diplomatic mission to the Griffon Kingdom, but due to unrest on the border, is unable to immediately return. That can probably buy us a month, if we’re lucky.”
“Then you know the farce can’t be kept going forever,” Starswirl said.
“Which is why we’ll reveal the truth,” Rose Petal answered assuredly, raising her head in confidence. “Little by little, the spell will be decreased, making it as gradual as possible until it’s like she never forgot the Lunar Rebellion, except for one detail: her involvement. No matter what, she can never be allowed to learn that she herself banished her own sister to the moon. The guilt would kill her, just like it is now. At least, that is what I have to say on the matter.”
“Oh really?” asked Starswirl, raising his eyebrow at the mare. “And what does Princess Celestia have to say on the matter? Or is that unimportant? Do you truly intend to erase her memories against her will?”
Rose Petal didn’t flinch at the remark; rather, her luminescent eyes remained steady in resolve. “It’s like you said, Starswirl. Equestria is collapsing because Princess Celestia is collapsing, and for the sake of Harmony, we can’t allow that to happen. We need to preserve her power and strength at any cost, even if her weakness lies in herself.”
“I know, which is why I am going to agree with you. But what of yourself? Because I know those are not your true motivations. No, it’s something more personal, isn’t it?”
“And so what if it is?” Rose Petal snapped defensively. “Is it so wrong of me to want to spare her this kind of suffering? Her memories are only hurting her; they’re only holding her back. I just wish for her to be happy, and if that means living her life in oblivion, then so be it.”
“Is that so?” The Mage’s voice was the soft questioning of a parent berating a child. “Or is that just how you believe you can be happy? Is that just how you intend to cope with loss?”
Loss. With angry conviction, Rose Petal squashed down the painful memories that accompanied that little word. “Why does it matter to you?”
“Because,” Starswirl replied simply, maintaining his composure, “in the end, these are the questions you will be asking yourself. I can have a memory alteration potion ready for you by tonight, but my involvement stops there. Then, it will be up to you whether or not to actually use it. I will not pass judgment either way. Remember, we can always find another solution.”
Despite his assurance, Rose Petal still eyed him warily. “Why would you give me free rein on using such powerful magic?”
As he sighed, the youthful sunlight shined in stark contrast to his gaunt, grim features. He may have been only a few years older than Rose Petal, but the weary look in his eyes was one of a stallion decades older, far too old for a newly ascended Grand Mage. Perhaps it was stress or work that aged him, but Rose Petal knew better. It was loneliness.
“I won’t lie to you, Rose Petal,” he began. “I won’t pretend to know all the answers, especially when it comes to the affairs of other ponies. You obviously know Princess Celestia better than I, so perhaps you do know how to best handle the situation. However, while I trust your judgment, I can’t help but question your motivation. Do you wish to erase Princess Celestia’s memory solely for her benefit, or do you intend to gain something for yourself as well? Neither answer is necessarily right, but while they might seem the same, they are in fact entirely different. I leave you with that thought, Miss Petal.”
Taking that as her cue to depart, Rose Petal inclined her head respectfully before turning for the door. “May the heavens protect you this day,” she said in the traditional farewell before adding, “and Fate look kindly upon us in our endeavor.”
“I never believed in fate or chance,” Starswirl replied. “Both are far too arbitrary. If this ploy is to succeed, it will because of its own doing, nothing more. Instead, I choose to believe in you, for your decision has the power to spare all of Equestria from the wrath of Princess Luna.”
“No,” Rose Petal said firmly before checking herself. “Well, not the last part at any rate. If this plan has a hope of working, all mention of Princess Luna must be eradicated, must disappear to be replaced by another name.”
“Oh?” Starswirl asked with a raised eyebrow. “And what would that name be?”
Rose Petal paused to contemplate the matter before pronouncing the words that would ring across the pages of Equestria’s darkest legends for a thousand years.
“Princess Luna is dead. Today is born the Mare in the Moon. Nightmare Moon.”
A kaleidoscope of fractured light bathed Celestia in shards of its dimmed radiance. Warm amber, shining sapphire, and brilliant amethyst melded together to form vibrant and lively patterns, ever-shifting with the subtle steps of the mother sun, now muted beneath grey clouds by its mistress. From the vault’s opening, Celestia’s dull eyes listlessly traced the shimmering colors, as if searching for a secret answer sleeping in the depths.
The princess raised her bowed head to look up at the hallowed magical gems seated upon their plinths, their thrones of gold. She had always looked to the Elements of Harmony for answers in the past though, hadn’t she? They were the guiding principles upon which her kingdom had been founded on. Their power had defeated the god of chaos, restored harmony to the world, and upheld the Celestial Diarchy. So why did they have to fail her now?
Celestia shut her eyes and jerked her face away as the light of the Elements converged on her small, lithe form and robed her in a gown of rainbows and harmony. A shudder ran through her spine, as if to shake off the heavy mantle. She hadn’t wanted this, or rather, if she had at one point, she didn’t want it now. She was an agent of harmony, but that was just it. She was its servant, forced to comply without any say in the matter. She herself held none of its power. She may have been Princess of Equestria, but for Harmony’s sake, she always subjected herself to the will of the people. Maybe she wouldn’t have minded if it didn’t hurt so much. After having everypony else take from her, would it really be so wrong to be selfish? Would it be wrong to reject Harmony and follow her heart just one time?
The hard facets stared the princess down unfeelingly, as aloof and unsympathetic as frozen in oceans of ice. Ironic, how emotionless kindness and laughter could feel. Emotionless, but not distant. No, never distant. Even now, Celestia could feel the bonds that firmly tied her to her Elements of Kindness, Generosity, and Magic, and lesser but still present, the bonds to Luna’s Elements of Honesty, Laughter, and Loyalty. How sad and lost those last three felt, so violently ripped from their Bearer and left with no option but to cling to the closest harmonious equivalent, Celestia. It would almost be pitiful, that is, if Celestia could feel anything but contempt towards them. They didn’t deserve to mourn Luna’s banishment. They were the ones that turned on her, knowing fully well what the outcome would be. There was no doubt in Celestia’s mind. The Elements of Harmony had created Nightmare Moon.
~~~
Darkness had engulfed Equestria. Like a roaring wave, it cascaded over the horizon, as if overflowing from the universe’s filled teacup to spill over the land, leaving nothing but a shadowy mist in its wake. It seeped into towns, sucking energy from the light of lone candles and replacing it with a fear that wrapped its cold fingers around the ponies’ hearts, snuffing them out.
The complacent moon watched from her place just above the horizon as panicked ponies ran terrified into the streets and screamed tidings of the apocalypse. How tragic that she was in no position to see their petrified little faces for herself. So she settled instead for casting an indifferent eye upon them as she wavered in her place in the sky. She kept dipping in and out of sight, like nothing more than a bobbing cork in the sea of space as the celestial tug-of-war took place. And all the while, her milky-eyed gaze shone down on Castle Everfree, where there abided the two mares that were fighting for her fate.
Celestia felt the moonlight drip like tears upon her tightly closed eyes while the energy of sunlight shifted around her in a swirling mass of golden brilliance. Despite the dire situation, her hooves were firm upon the cobblestone, her teeth gritted in resolve. Through a tired haze, she strained to conjure up more magical energy, letting it well up from deep within her core. She pushed it up to the very surface before letting it seep through to dance on her white coat, now alive with a million stars.
It was excruciating. She may as well have been tearing one of her legs from its joint for all the pain it caused. Yet still she persisted, even as it felt as though she were burning her insides raw. Ignoring the stinging agony, Celestia focused her magic, packing it tighter and tighter, funneling it to the very tip of her horn until with a gut-wrenching cry, she let it all explode. A beam of white-hot magic shot up into the sky with an earth-trembling quake that sent Celestia flying backwards into the wall.
The fallen princess weakly raised her head and let her eyes flutter open to see her sister lying prone by the base of the dais on the opposite end of the throne room. Looking up through the newest hole in the ceiling, she watched as Luna’s navy blue magic spiraled up into the sky, only to be intercepted by Celestia’s stronger spell on its rocket course to the heavens. She let out a relieved sigh as the gentle pink and orange hues of day washed over her before letting her head fall back down to the floor with a clunk.
Five times. Five times she had managed to raise the sun in the past hour. That was all she could do for now. The exhausted alicorn writhed on the ground and whimpered in pain, only to be matched by louder, more frustrated cries from her sister.
“Give up, Luna!” Celestia shouted as she panted for breath. “Stop… fighting. Neither of us… can go on… anymore, so… just surrender. End… this madness, sister.”
Her only answer was an enraged howl from Luna. “How dare you?!” she screeched, stumbling to her hooves. “I am the Princess of the Night! I won’t be subjected to you anymore!”
Celestia watched as her sister practically dragged herself across the hall with her forelegs. Her chest was heaving, rattling breaths clawing their way out of her throat, now bloody raw from screaming. Sweat poured down her pale face, and her clouded eyes threatened to roll back in her head. Every so often she would direct what was most likely supposed to be a feral growl at Celestia, but through the ears of a loving sister, they were nothing more than pitiful whimpers.
She can’t fight me, Celestia thought. She raised the moon four times, and she’s even more drained than I am. She can’t expect to win.
A sudden rumbling brought Celestia out of her reverie. She looked up to see the Elements of Harmony rise from the stone ground and present themselves to the princess of night. Her eyes passed greedily, hungrily over the powerful artifacts as she gripped them in her navy blue aura. Her very darkness seemed to such the light and color from the gems, leaving them devoid of all life, their stony glares reviling her. Laughter, Honesty, and Loyalty surrounded their Bearer, now a completely different mare. Her eyes glinted with a spark of cruelty, her billowing mane covered her in a deceptive shadow, and her voice rang with betrayal as she commanded, “Bestow upon me your power, O Harmony, so that I may reclaim my rightful throne and usurp the sun in favor of eternal night!”
Celestia’s heart dropped in her chest. A scream, an awful, desperate scream rang out, slipping from her blanched lips as she watched her sister reach out to touch the jewels, all the while deaf to her cries.
The moment Luna’s hoof touched the three Elements, Celestia’s screams were replaced by her own. Bolts of lightning erupted from the artifacts and sent jolts of pain coursing through Luna’s body. Her back arched as she cried out, tears springing to her eyes.
“Luna!” Celestia shouted, running straight into the storm. She winced as the negative energy of the lightning flailed her skin like a whip, but her steps didn’t slow. Her pastel colored mane flowed behind her like a valiant flag, but it only served to remind her of just how dire the situation was that it required her to be at full power. The only times she had to tap into the sun’s magic was during the wars with Sombra and Discord, and now… no, she couldn’t even think it.
Even as her long legs rushed forward at full speed, every step felt like she was hurtling backwards, forever losing ground. Losing, losing, losing. How much more would she have to lose? First a friend, then a lover, and now her only sister. And still she fought to win, even though she had lost long before this point. Maybe she had lost from the very beginning. Maybe she never had anything to lose at all.
Suddenly, Celestia was thrown back by a particularly violent lightning bolt from the Elements. With a scream, she crumpled to the ground as white-hot agony stabbed her like a javelin, leaving her twitching uncontrollably. Celestia could only look on, weak and helpless, as Luna was lifted up into the air by tendrils of smoke and shadow. Her terrified eyes cried out to Celestia before they were enveloped by darkness. The darkness intensified, swirling faster and faster until it melded into a ball of molten lava, only to dissipate and reveal a far greater darkness.
No, Celestia moaned. No, no, no. She refused to raise her eyes, even as peals of maleficent laughter echoed through the throne room. It was just a dream; it had to be. Just a horribly bad dream.
Nevertheless, the fallen sun princess ever so slowly lifted her head, inch by inch, with her magenta eyes widening ever more as they were engulfed by a vision far more terrible than a bad dream could ever hope to be.
It was the birth of a Nightmare.
~~~
“Princess?”
Celestia swiveled her head around to see Starwirl walking down the hallway to meet her. It seemed to take an eternity, though perhaps it was the sheer length of the corridor. The princess sighed. She had often felt like that lately. Grief and loneliness had shrunk her, leaving everything too huge, too empty, with her left to rattle around inside. She would have scaled her entire castle down a one-room hole in the ground if it would close the distance between herself and the rest of the world.
“Yes? What is it?” she asked monotonously, too emotionally tired to put any feeling in the words.
Celestia watched as Starswirl inclined his head before stopping about three-fourths of the way to maintain a respectful distance. It may have just been a meter or so, but entire continents might as well have separated them.
“The protesters are attempting to storm the castle gates,” Starswirl relayed. “The Guard has been dispatched to keep the peace, but there are hundreds of ponies, all demanding to speak to you.”
“Send them away,” Celestia ordered, all emotion drained from her voice, leaving it hard and indifferent.
“Princess, they want answers,” Starswirl replied, this time with a bit more softness.
With tired eyes, Celestia looked up once more at the Element of Magic. “I don’t have them,” she said, her voice breaking like brittle porcelain. “Send them away.”
The Grand Mage’s eyes darted warily back and forth between the alicorn and the Elements of Harmony. “Princess Celestia, we discussed the Elements before. It’s too much of a risk to use them to bring Princess Luna back.”
“I know,” Celestia replied, her eyes cast to the ground. “I’m not so arrogant as to believe I can wield all six alone. Or at least, I’m not that arrogant now. I witnessed firsthoof the consequences of such actions; I won’t make that same mistake again, no matter how much I wish there was another way.”
Celestia sighed in resignation. “How many ponies are out there?” she asked as wearily as if the question itself was sapping her energy.
“Well over four hundred.”
“Then tell Apple Harvest to announce that I will be holding a press conference tomorrow,” the princess ordered, standing up in a position of regality. “I don’t know how much good it will do, since I don’t have the answers myself, but if it will qualm their concerns, then I suppose it must be done. After all, I wouldn’t want them to worry.”
Starswirl widened his eyes, half in approval and half out of pity. She was too good at ruling, even as it threatened to take everything good and joyful from her. “You do love Equestria, don’t you, princess?” asked Starswirl, his voice soft with wonder.
Celestia took one last look at the Elements of Harmony before slamming the vault door shut. “Maybe a little too much.”
All the curtains in the room had been drawn, shield the sun princess from light of any kind, save for a single flickering candle, giving it a melancholy ambiance. Celestia had taken the silken sheets from her bed and tossed them into a makeshift cushion in the corner, where she lay lethargic, her lips pressed into a slight frown. Next to her, there lay two stacks of papers, the inbox one nearly twice as tall as the outbox. She listlessly dragged her quill along the pages, until finally she threw it in defeat to the floor, where ink dripped like blood onto her hooves. She blinked once, then twice, until she rubbed her strained eyes with a moan.
At her mistress' call, Philomena swooped from her perch to settle gently on Celestia's shoulder. She affectionately nuzzled the princess, trying to offer solace, at least until she felt her feathers near Celestia's cheek dampen.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Celestia said, impatiently wiping the invasive tears from her eyes before sighing in disgust. "Ugh, I'm so sick of just crying about everything! I've cried about Sombra, and I've cried about Discord, but once they were defeated, that came to an end. But now that Luna's gone, it's only gotten worse. Haven't I dried myself out already? How many tears do I have left in me?"
Thou have as many tears as thou have smiles, Philomena whispered through the unique mental connection that only the two of them shared. And maybe it's a good thing that thou have smiled so much. Because when thou run out, there's none of what's thee that's left.
"What more of me is left?" she asked in exhaustion. "I'm falling apart, Philomena, don't try to deny it. I'm tired of crying, tired of caring. I'm tired of watching my country fall apart. I'm tired of having to keep myself together. I'm tired of having these spells of darkness, of hiding in my room away from the rest of the world. As long as the sun reigns, I'll never sleep. I only want to see night, my Luna's night, or nothing at all."
Philomena watched as Celestia sniffled in a decidedly un-princessy way. "I wasn't this weak before Luna was gone, was I? Why is this happening to me now?"
Philomena placed a comforting wing around her neck. Thou know I don't like seeing thee suffer, Celestia, but honestly... I think this is the kind of change thou needed.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
I mean that this is the first time I’ve seen thee let go of thine composure. Thou are no longer afraid to let thyself cry, to let thyself show emotions. Before, thou were fine with wearing that mask of stone, but thou can’t be Equestria’s rock forever. It’s… unhealthy for thee. I don’t want to see the day when thou can’t take it off.
“But… but I needed to be that way for the nobility, for Equestria.” Celestia looked up at Philomena beseechingly. “Does that mean I made the wrong decision?”
Philomena sighed. Be honest, Celestia. Thou chose both and neither. Thou tried tearing thine heart in two for the sake of running thine country and watching over thine sister, but ultimately, thine hubris won out over either love.
The princess bristled at the accusation. “I committed no crime.”
Perhaps not in the literal sense, but… thou were punished by Luna’s banishment just as much as she was. Thine broken heart is proof.
“No,” Celestia murmured, shaking her head vigorously. “Whatever she’s suffering, it’s a thousand times worse than any pain I could feel. She’s on the moon, for heaven’s sake! She must be so sad and full of pain and lonely.”
Is that all too different from what thou are experiencing now? she asked with the firm gentleness of a mother. Thou have shut thyself up in thine room, refused to let anypony see thee cry. There’s more than one way of being lonely, Celestia, but unlike Luna, thou can change that. Just… let somepony in for a change. Would that be too hard?
“Yes,” she said bitterly. “Yes, it would be too hard. Because then I’d have to watch them leave. Thou, Rose, everypony I know and love; they’re all going to die and leave me alone. No, maybe Luna could with all her resilience, but I’m not strong enough to handle that.”
Celestia, please, thou have to—
“NO, I DON’T!” she roared. In her anger, her pupils were engulfed in white light as a might solar wind swirled around her like a tornado. The song in her head became deafeningly loud, and she screamed in an echoing voice that was not her own: “She didn’t deserve any of this! It’s all my fault, all my fault! She shouldn’t be suffering; I should be suffering for her a thousand times over! How am I supposed to go on when she’s gone, and I should be dead, dead, dead—!”
The solar wind flared into a tempest as with a tortured wail, Celestia started throwing her head against the wall, over and over with brutal force. Bruises sprung up like flowers beneath her snow white fur as she screamed her throat raw. Finally, she collapsed to the floor and gripped her temple with her hooves to the point where she thought it would burst under the pressure.
Then, even in the height of her madness, Celestia was suddenly brought back to reality by the tiniest crack.
With a gasp, Celestia raised her head to see Philomena, thrown by the solar wind into the corner, where she lay broken, her wings jerking in spasms. But that which caught her attention most was Philomena’s leg, which was horribly mangled and bent.
Oh Faust, Celestia thought in horror as she stumbled to where Philomena lay. Oh Faust, no!
Even when Philomena gave a feeble squawk of life, Celestia still cradled the phoenix like a dying corpse in her hooves. A violent tremor shuddered through the princess, rising and gathering in strength until it crashed upon the shore upon her eyes.
There, there, it’s okay, Philomena cooed. I know, I know, thou didn’t mean to do it. Don’t bottle it up; just let it out. I know it hurts, but it’s better that way. Thou will get better, I promise, Celestia. Just... please hold on until then.
Celestia ever so slightly pulled the curtains shut before she cried.
The city of Canterlot. A pinnacle of peace and prosperity in Equestria. A Golden Age utopia hailed by many to be the center of the world, and with good reason. From its place atop Canterlot Mountain, its swirling spires of white and gold served as a beacon that shone across the land. Ponies would flock to the city in droves, most driven by opportunities of bustling trade and flourishing business, but all captivated by its unquestionable beauty. The city was nothing short of a paradise, with finely crafted sculptures singing the hymns of angels beneath winding towers that stood so tall and proud in robes purest white that they may as well been made of clouds, while crowned with intricate golden halos. It was a center of wealth and culture, known for its high society, its sophistication, and most of all, its impeccable class.
It was not, however, known for its mobs and riots trying to violently batter down the castle gates, and the angry screams of the protestors were foreign chords of disruption in the city’s usually peaceful atmosphere. But even more so unexpected was Lady Diamonds’ complete disregard of all social etiquette as she forcefully made her way through the crowd.
“Ugh, step aside!” she hollered at another cluster of protestors before she impatiently swept them aside with her magic. She had given up on ‘beg your pardon’ and ‘excuse me, please’ long ago, deeming them ineffectual against the mindlessness of mob psychology.
“Out of the way, out of the way!” was the chant as the noblemare resiliently pushed open a pathway through the madness. She paid no mind to the mass of disgruntled ponies lining the sides; there was no room in her heart to worry about their petty concerns. So instead she kept her head held high, even as her vision was obscured by a sea of posters waving with a violent frenzy.
‘End the nightmare.’ ‘We don’t need a second Doomsday.’ ‘Prevent the fall, preserve the harmony.’ ‘We won’t trade eternal night for eternal day.’ ‘Celestia is NOT Equestria.’ ‘If you won’t give us answers, Equestria will take them.’
“Celestia,” Sunshine breathed in fear. The anger around her was scalding, a raging sea that threatened to sweep her away on its course towards the princess. She can’t handle this, she can’t.
Just then, Sunshine found herself directly behind the front lines of the mob. This was where some of the more violent protestors were, where fireplace tongs and curtain rods clashed with iron swords and magic shields. The Solar Guard was doing its best to defend the gates, but Sunshine could see it was a challenge in more ways than one. As stoic as they may have been trained to be, there were friends and family members in that crowd, and they wanted to keep them from harm, whereas the protestors had no problem with plowing down all the guards in ruthless pursuit of their goal. So the two opposing forces were met at an impasse, even as both sides were spurred onward by military captains or mob leaders. And one of those leaders was about to wage a second battle, begun by Sunshine’s death stare.
“Shining Starlight!” Sunshine yelled at the violet mare stationed proudly at the helm of the crowd.
At the sound of her name, she jerked her head around, her ice blue curls bouncing perfectly into place. When her eyes locked on Sunshine, her lips curled into a sneer. “Greetings, Lady Diamonds,” she said pleasantly, her voice laced with poison. Her mannerisms were unperturbed, as if the two noblemares were amiably strolling through Canterlot Square. “How do you fare on this glorious day?”
“Perhaps better if it had not been disrupted by a riot within the very heart of the country,” Sunshine replied, fighting to withhold sarcasm.
“Ah yes, tragic that Equestria had to resort to this, I agree. But if it’s to protect the country, then no price is too high.”
“But what do you hope to accomplish here?” Sunshine demanded, her ire beginning to bleed through her calm façade. “Do you wish to trade the Lunar Rebellion for another? War tore Equestria apart as it always does; now more than ever, we need to stand united.”
“And we are united,” Shining Starlight declared, puffing out her chest proudly, “united against a common enemy.”
“Are you truly that ignorant to believe Princess Celestia of all ponies would turn against Equestria?” Sunshine’s eyes narrowed, only showing strips of icy flames. “You spoke of no price being too high to pay for Equestria. The princess paid that price tenfold when she banished her sister for the sake of your wellbeing. And now, all she asks for is loyalty from her ponies, and you choose to betray her like this?”
“Oh come now, Sunshine,” said Shining. Sunshine could almost see the puffs of frigid air leave her mouth at those chilled words. “Don’t tell me you actually trust the princess. There has to be a part of you that questions her, that wants to know the truth. Nopony can be that mindless, even if that pony is Celestia’s lapdog.”
“I am her friend,” Sunshine hissed, stabbing every syllable into Shining’s heartless eyes, “which is more than I can say for you.”
“Are you?” she asked with a confident smirk. “Friends are supposed to understand each other, but how could you possibly comprehend the Princess of Equestria, an alicorn, an immortal? You can’t, so just drop the act. You owe nothing to her, so take from her what you deserve and run.”
“And what would that be?” Sunshine asked. “A countryhouse in Canterbury, with enough money left over to sponsor an open rebellion against your princess?”
“Or perhaps enough money to save a floundering mining business?” Shining’s fluttering eyelashes were dark with deception. “Most of your company was situated in Everfree City, was it not? Such a shame that government funding is going so slowly. Perhaps you could speed up the process?”
“But right now the princess is focusing on destroyed homes in the heart of the city,” Sunshine said. “Everypony knows that.”
“But not everypony is ‘friends’ with the princess. If you two are as close as you say, then surely she’d make the exception for a friend in need.”
At Sunshine’s affronted expression, Shining’s face softened. “Look, Sunshine, I’m not trying to be your enemy. I was your friend once, until I broke away from Celestia, but political stances shouldn’t decide friendship. I’m trying to help you. Princess Celestia won’t be in power for long, so you should try and get what you can until then. You’re not the princess’ friend, not if you don't force yourself to be. Just… think about what I’ve said, alright? Remember, Sunshine, the only pony you can ever rely on is yourself.”
Sunshine just watched as Shining gave her a decidedly pointed look before turning away to march back into the crowd, leaving her to trudge towards the gates alone. Don’t even think about it, Sunshine, she chastised herself. She’s just trying to get into your head. I’m not going to abuse my friendship with the princess just for my business. I am her friend, and I’ll show her that now.
With bold professionalism, the businessmare strode up to the captain of the Royal Guard stationed at the gate. “Excuse me, sir,” she began pleasantly, “but would you be ever so kind as to let me into the castle? I’m here to see the princess.”
The guard’s stoic expression didn’t waver, but he ever so slightly glanced pointedly to the side, then cocked his eyebrow as if to say, Seriously?
All at once, Sunshine became all too aware of the raging mob behind her. Horseapples. “I-I know what this looks like,” she said, her strained smile beginning to crack under pressure, “but you must believe me when I say I mean no harm to Princess Celestia. Surely you know of me? I’m Sunshine Diamonds, I’m her fri…” The mare choked on the word as doubts bubbled up to the surface. She shrank beneath the hard, shrewd, calculating gaze of the guard. His gold plated armor gleamed in the cold sunlight, so impenetrable and distant. Her eyes darted between his ivory white horn and strong hooves, both weapons that could easily tear her in half despite the crisscross of healing battle scars. And he represented just a fraction of the power and pain of Celestia’s. What was she doing here, pleading her case to convince the guard, but perhaps even more, herself?
Sunshine turned her head, preparing to leave before she was thrown out, when a soft, firm voice amidst the screaming chaos spoke.
“At ease, sir. She’s alright.”
Sunshine turned around to see Apple Harvest reasoning with the captain, but judging by his expression, with little success. Conversely, Sunshine couldn’t see any change in the guard; however, apparently Apple Harvest’s trained eye noticed some hidden resistance, as he added, “I know her, Rapier. She won’t harm the princess, I promise.” Then, in a lower, more urgent voice, there came, “Cover her, okay?”
After a brief second’s hesitation, an infinitesimal inclination of the head was the only response before he vigorously ushered Sunshine forward until she was nearly flattened against the iron bars of the gate. The captain barked orders for half a dozen soldiers to surround them as he levitated a ring of keys. He poised the key to the lock with the blanched expression of one preparing to dive into Ghastly Gorge. His tension was almost tangible, his neck muscles threatening to snap with every nervous look back.
And in that split second, all Sunshine could hear was the screaming mob, her pounding heart, and one single whisper.
“Run.”
There was the smallest fraction of silence as the protestors watched the gate creak open, their eyes trained on it with frightening intensity before all hell broke loose. Like terrifying birds of prey, they swooped in for the kill, swarming the gate in desperation to get there first. In the newfound chaos, Sunshine let out a yelp as a hoof yanked her tail, only to hear a sickening crack before the grip went slack. Not daring to turn around, Sunshine fearfully scurried away from the gate and broke out into a full sprint towards the safety of the castle doors.
Finally, once she felt enough distance had been put between her and the madness, she turned around to see Apple Harvest trotting towards her. “I am so sorry about this mess, Lady Diamonds,” he apologized once he was near enough. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” she said, the word slipping out with, to her own surprise, actual sincerity. She smiled in her usual confident, composed manner. “Yes, I believe I am,” she affirmed. With each slowing of her heartbeat, she found renewed composure.
“Thank goodness,” he said, sighing in relief as he fell into step with her as they passed through the domed archway into the castle’s vestibule. “Luckily the crowds are dispersing now, though they’ll most certainly be back in droves tomorrow for the press conference with the princess. But for now, at least you will be able to leave the castle safely, without nearly that amount of… brutality.”
Sunshine closed her eyes at the memory of that skull-splitting crack. So violent, so out-of-control. She couldn’t bear to think what would have happened if they had gotten their hooves on Celestia… “Fortunately the guard was there to quell the situation," she mentioned while trying and failing to smile. "They were certainly doing their job, perhaps going a tad overboard.”
Apple Harvest let out a warm chuckle. “Oh, you’ll have to forgive Rapier for that,” he laughed, “ but he’s very protective of the princess. You should see him when she’s walking down a rocky path; he’ll personally steer her around every stone, just so she doesn’t trip. If that stallion isn’t head-over-heels in love with her, then I don’t know what romance is anymore. But enough about that, now how can I help you, Lady Diamonds?”
“I’m here to see Princess Celestia,” she answered. “Just to see how she’s doing. Is she available at the time?”
At that, Apple Harvest’s warm, inviting smile faltered. “I don’t know if that’s the best idea at the moment.”
“Why not?” she asked with the cold harshness of authority.
“It’s just… the princess has been shut up in her chambers for hours,” he explained. “She won’t talk to anypony, and she refuses to let anypony in.”
“What of the Day Court?” she demanded. “Does she not have her duties to attend to?”
“No, she’s delegated them to me and the rest of her advisors.”
“Well, has somepony tried to get her out?”
“I believe one of her hoofmaidens attempted to, but besides her, nopony.”
“One pony is not everypony,” Sunshine pointed out. “Why have you not tried?”
“Because it isn’t my place,” Apple Harvest answered, giving her a strange look, as if the answer was obvious. “I’m just her advisor; it would be unprofessional to try to pry into her private life.”
“Look,” he added just as he saw the objection forming on her lips. “You must understand my position. I just don’t want the princess to get hurt, nothing more, nothing less. That’s all I can do for her, all most anypony can do. If you believe the princess will speak to you, then I don’t object by any means. Do you think she will let you in?”
That was the million bit question, wasn’t it? Sunshine didn’t know if friends was the right word, but they had been on good terms before the Lunar Rebellion, hadn’t they?
…Still, Celestia hasn’t spoken to me ever since then. She never even asked me how my company was doing. Oh well, I’m sure she has far greater things on her mind. The mare’s eyes widened, her ice blue orbs threatening to melt. But that’s just it. She has so much more on her mind to even think about me. She’s worrying about a nationwide rebellion against her, and all I can complain about is laying off a few hundred workers? I must seem so… inconsequential to her. How can I possibly understand her? She’s not the insecure teenager to whom I could give advice and act superior. She’s stronger, hardened, independent, and what am I compared to that? I’d probably only get in her way.
But then she looked up into Apple Harvest’s eyes, and at once, she knew that look. It was the look of one pleading for help and guidance in the face of all powerlessness. And at once, Sunshine knew what her answer must be.
“I will do my best,” she declared resolutely.
The corners of his mouth turned up. “Then that’s all anypony can ask,” he said. “I can give you five minutes, but if the princess does not wish for you to be there, I will have to ask you to leave. Is that agreeable?”
Sunshine nodded wordlessly. No, that was wrong. Though perhaps not spoken, her mind was filled to the brim with words. As she turned away and ascended the staircase to the heavens, she repeated those confident words over and over until they withered into dust.
‘I will do my best.’ ‘Then that’s all anypony can ask.’
Sunshine sighed. If only I had practice with that.
All was eerily silent as Sunshine ascended the staircase to Celestia’s chambers. She could barely hear her own hoofsteps upon the thick carpet, and there was nopony else around to make a sound. At times, she found herself holding her breath, not wanting to break the spell of quiet that filled the air. Breaking it felt wrong, like disturbing a grave. Outside, the sun seemed to agree, wearing dark clouds like a mourning veil through which only the tiniest, most fragile rays of light could shine, making everything they touched look pale and sickly.
However, the light only made the vibrant suns painted on Celestia’s doors look all the more lively. Merrily beaming balls of light danced atop puffy white clouds that rained life-giving water onto an exotic assortment of beautiful flowers that exploded into color against pure alabaster. Vines twirled up from the base to create an intricate border of spirals, where birds and butterflies rested in peace.
Normally, it would have made Sunshine stand in awe, but now, all she could think of was how ironically inaccurate it was in portraying the feelings of its owner.
No light shone through the crack between the door and floor, but that didn’t fool Sunshine. Celestia was there. So one, two, three times she tapped her hoof against the door, only daring to make the slightest sound.
“Celestia?” she called in a fragile whisper. “Please, I know thou are in there.”
“Go away, Sunshine,” came a muffled cry. “Go away, please. I don’t want to hurt thee.”
“Oh Celestia, don’t tell me thou are actually listening to those horrible ponies,” Sunshine gently chastised. “Thou would never hurt Equestria.”
There came a tiny sniffle. “That’s what I believed as well, but… what if it isn’t something I can’t control? What if I woke up tomorrow to find my skin of fire, my heart of coals? Thou cannot know for sure, nor can I. I know not if Equestria is better with me dead or alive, and I know not which I want. I am so tired of it all. Tired of the singing, the nightmares, the fear. I can’t go on being scared of myself. I will not survive those three hundred years, not like this. Luna is lost to me forever, and I… I…”
Tears sprang to Sunshine’s eyes as she heard Celestia devolve into muffled sobs. She stood motionless outside the door, lost for words. And what words were there? What words could she possibly say wouldn’t sound empty and hollow?
I can’t understand her. I can’t be her friend.
Her nerve was gone. She shouldn’t have come.
“Just… just g-go, okay?”
She jerked her head away, silently cursing herself. Her teeth were tightly clenched to keep from screaming as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She was such a failure. She shouldn’t have tried at all.
As she walked back down the hallway, Sunshine looked back at the door, the impenetrable force she could never possibly enter.
She would never know it was unlocked the whole time.
A cool summer breeze danced through the air, combing its fingers through Rose Petal’s hair and coat. The grassy plains on the outskirts of Canterlot lay before her in a rolling landscape of green dotted with clusters of purple and yellow wildflowers, all smiling up at a clear blue sky. A lone tree atop a hill shielded her from the rays of the sun, for which she was grateful. This was not a place to think of sunlight. It was a place to remember starlight.
Rose Petal idly twirled a worn rope bracelet in her hooves. It was a simple, practical thing, with the only adornments being some locks of gold and silver hair woven among the threads, and a tiny wooden heart charm. Yet she held the precious item close to her chest, while her eyes glazed over sadly, wistfully. The bracelet must have been the most romantic thing she owned, which could have been pitiful or endearing depending on how she looked at it. And she had liked it that way, in that perfect representation of duality: not quite a friend, not quite a lover, but a comfortable somepony in between, with the closeness of siblings and the difference of complete strangers. All the intimacy with none of the drama. All the security with none of the elusiveness. All the love with none of the pain. Or at least, that was how she chose to remember him.
Him. Such, a mundane, simple word. Him was the polite farmer you saw at the marketplace on Thursdays, or the bothersome secretary whose name you could never remember. Him was one of a million ponies she would never know, not the one pony who knew her better than all others. She hated the word for its ordinary nature, but ironically enough, ordinary was one of the things she missed most. That safe, comforting security she would never have in the same way again.
~~~~~~~
“Thank thee for meeting me, Rose.”
“Don’t mention it,” the young mare replied with a smile. “I’m always happy to spend time with thee, Starlight.” The jubilant laughter in her eyes faltered. “I… I’m sorry we haven’t seen each other in a while. Thou know how Mother is, always moving from town to town trying to branch out her flower business. It’s maddening, simply maddening.”
“It’s alright, Rosie,” Starlight reassured her, placing a calming hoof on her shoulder. “I understand. And besides, I think we worked the poor mailponies to death with our letters. It’s just good to finally have thee here in person.”
“Yes, yes it is,” she agreed, smiling once again. From her perch high atop the hill, she could see a million flickering candle lights nestled within protective, grandiose walls of what were grey, white, and gold in day, now united in silver under the moon. “Wow,” she breathed in awe, her voice a faint whisper in the nighttime breeze. “So this is Everfree City.”
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Starlight said with equal parts pride and admiration. “If there’s any place in Equestria where ponies can truly believe in a brighter tomorrow, this is it. How can they not when the guardians of the sun and moon are watching over them, over us, over everypony?”
“It’s certainly a change from Fillydephia,” Rose Petal remarked. “The only ponies nobles watch over there are the ones engraved on the gold bits.”
“Yeah, well, there are some like that in Everfree, but they’re not so bad,” Starlight reassured, casually shrugging his shoulders. “But I’ve always believed Everfree City is a city of the common mare. I can’t tell you how many ponies offered to help me get my bearings when I moved here. They’re all so close, so eager to do the right thing; it’s nothing short of inspiring. It’s a place of friendship, plain and simple.”
“Friendship? Ponies talking to each other and getting along? I’m sure Starswirl’s thrilled about that,” Rose Petal teased.
Starlight tossed his head back in hearty laughter, his silver eyes twinkling with merriment. Rose Petal felt the rumbling like the pulse of a drum vibrate its way deep into her skin, into her very soul. “Oh, Swirly’s still the antisocial bookworm he’s always been, don’t worry. I didn’t think he could, but he found a way to keep Everfree from breaking him. Right now he’s alone on some mystical mission to the caverns of Myrtania, or something like that. I think it’s his third expedition this month; the poor stallion’s dead on his hooves, trying to make his way into the Mage Council, but probably just trying to impress Princess Luna.”
“Ah, so the Princess of the Night remains elusive?” Rose Petal remarked playfully.
“Yes, but it’s certainly not from lack of trying on his part. You should see him when he returns from one of his expeditions; his wagon is laden with exotic artifacts from distant lands that he can’t wait to give her.”
“Maybe thou should suggest the candy and flowers route and save him the trouble.”
“I have, I have, a million times! And when he came back from the Appaloosan Mountains with a geode of crystals, I even said to him, ‘When a mare says she wants a big rock, she doesn’t literally mean a big rock.’ And he had no idea what I was talking about!”
Rose Petal burst into giggles. “Oh, poor Starswirl. I suppose not even all the books in the world could teach that stallion about love.”
“But apparently they had something on angst-ridden teenage mares,” Starlight said. “From what Starswirl says, the princess has been a little moody lately, and he’s one of the only ponies she’ll let into her room. Hopefully that’s passed though; I’m not sure. We haven’t talked in a while.”
Starlight tried to pass off the comment nonchalantly, but Rose Petal could tell it cut deeper than he let on. “Hey, look at me,” she said gently, placing a hoof around him. “It’s going to be alright, okay? Thou know how Starswirl is. He’s working himself to the bone to reach his dreams, but that doesn’t mean he’s forgotten about thee, or us. He just needs time; he’ll come back. Regardless of what’s happening now, we were all fillyhood friends. Memories will connect us, no matter what. A fancy new position can’t change that. Besides,” she added with a smirk, “he promised to find me a new job in Everfree City, and Royal Mage or not, I’ll slap him in the face if he goes back on that.”
Rose Petal was relieved to see some of the livelihood return to his face. “I know, Rosie,” he murmured. “That’s why I’m so glad thou are here. It helps a lot, having somepony ordinary around.” Rose pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. “Er, I mean… grounding… yeah, grounding is good.”
She smiled. “It’s fine, Starlight. Although,” she added, gazing up at the stars, “who knows? Perhaps Starswirl won’t be the only pony to become famous. Maybe we’ll be remembered for something great too.”
“Yeah, a simple carpenter becomes a national hero,” he laughed, gesturing to his cutie mark, a pair of willow branches rubbing together to create sparks of gold and silver stars. “That sounds like something out of a fairytale.”
“Hey, it’s easier to believe than a runaway florist,” Rose Petal rationalized with a look back to her own cutie mark, a white rose petal in the shape of a heart. “But that’s what Everfree’s all about, I suppose. Believing. Hoping. Dreaming. Maybe one day I’ll find my place here too.”
Starlight gave her a curious look. “Thou do not have to do this. Thou can always go back.”
“No, I can’t,” Rose Petal declared resolutely. “I won’t live the life my parents want me to lead. It’s a nice life, but not the one I want. And this is the city of brighter tomorrows, isn’t it? Well, I’m beginning my tomorrow today, right here, with the pony I care about.”
Rose Petal sucked in a gasp as she felt Starlight drape a soft, downy wing over her, pulling her close. A shudder ran down her spine, so distracting and all-consuming that she almost didn’t notice the new bracelet slipped around her hoof until Starlight leaned down and whispered, “I’m happy for thee, Rosie, and I want thou to know that whatever life thou choose to live, thou will always be special to me. Nothing can separate us, for our memories will unite us wherever we go. I will remember thee always, now and forever, for the rest of my life.”
~~~~~~~
With a shaking gasp, Rose Petal emerged from the memory like a swimmer breaking the surface of the water, water that now welled in her misty green eyes. Unlike other days, she didn’t try to brush the tears away; they only helped to block out her view of the world around her, a world so much like her memory but oh so wrong as well. There was no Everfree City below her, no bracelet around her hoof, and no wing to hold her close. But more than that, all the words she had said that night now rang with lies. Starswirl was more distant than ever, to the point where he hadn’t even attended Starlight’s funeral. Starlight, who had only ever wanted to live an ordinary, joyful life, now was glorified and immortalized in cold dead stone monuments across Equestria. And Rose Petal… well, her tomorrow seemed darker than ever.
No, that last part wasn’t true. She did have the power to change that. Rose Petal thought back to her conversation with Starswirl, and the weighty choice she would have to make. Was it better to remember or forget?
One upon a time, in another, better life, the memory of her first night in Everfree City would have brought her joy like no other. But now, the happiness had run out, leaving only unbearable sorrow. She didn’t want the pain anymore. She was tired of hurting. She just wanted to stop. She just wanted to forget. Was Celestia any different?
The sun dipped below the horizon. Her time was up. Equestria needed her answer.
Rose Petal closed her eyes. She knew what she had to do.
That night, the clock struck twelve and all was silent.
When morning arrived, Celestia awoke to three things: a pounding headache, a broken teapot, and an oddly anxious Rose Petal.
“Are you sure you’re alright, Rose?” she asked for the sixth time as she watched her chambermaid sweep up the jagged pieces of china, remnants of the teapot she had dropped.
“Oh, I’m just fine, princess,” Rose Petal answered with a smile that was just a little too stretched and strained, and eyes that were just a little too wide and bulging. “I just would like to know if you’re alright; yup, that’s it!” In vigorous sincerity, her head kept bouncing up and down like a never-ending bobble head, and more than once, Celestia could have sworn she saw Rose’s eye twitch.
The princess was about to question her again, but when the image of her personal maid looking down at her with crazed eyes as she hovered just inches above her face with a teapot and a nearly deranged grin resurfaced to her mind, she thought better of it. “I am well, thank you,” she replied elegantly as she reclined at her vanity to let Rose Petal comb her hair.
“Are you well rested?” she demanded, fighting to keep her voice even, her anxiety only showing through the particularly forceful yanks of the brush. “How did you sleep last night?”
Even through the tears of pain in her eyes, Celestia managed a small smile. “Actually, quite well, now that I think about it. I… I don’t know why, but it feels like some great weight was lifted from me while I slept. Like there was a certain tension that’s just been let go. I haven’t felt this relaxed in longer than I can remember. I suppose that’s the magic of a good night’s sleep, right?”
At that, all of Rose Petal’s tense muscles melted into jelly. “That’s wonderful to hear, princess,” she said, this time with a truly genuine smile.
“Yes, I know,” Celestia agreed. “Perhaps it’s because Luna isn’t hear to come in the middle of the night with her insufferable wailings and lamentations.”
There was a screeching halt in Rose Petal’s brush strokes as she sat, mouth agape, in shock of Celestia’s words, before shaking herself to her senses. Of course, she was like this before the Lunar Rebellion, wasn’t she? Rose Petal reminded herself. I suppose I’d better get used to hearing it.
“And now I’m left to deal with the aftermath of this ‘Nightmare Moon’ character, while Luna gets to take a vacation in the Griffin Kingdom? That’s just like her; it’s so unfair.” A hideous scowl marred her features before she remembered herself, and smiled serenely. “But it would be shameful of me to let my little sister of all ponies trouble me, now wouldn’t it?” she declared, rising from her vanity. “Let Luna languish among those horrid creatures, for the sun reigns in Equestria! A new beginning, a new day awaits!” Celestia’s eyes fell upon the tightly drawn curtains. “Speaking of day…” she mumbled to herself, making her way over to the Solar Balcony.
Rose Petal’s heart dropped as she saw the moonlight peek beneath the curtains. “No!” she screamed, racing across the room just as Celestia threw them wide to expose her sight fully to the round, gleaming moon above.
Celestia turned around, her eyes wide in surprise, but more so, in irritation. “What is the matter with you today, Rose?” she chastised with a disparaging click of the tongue.
“But…” Rose Petal looked up into the sky, where the image of the Mare in the Moon was branded on the moon’s pearly surface. Then her eyes transitioned to Celestia’s, also gazing up at the very same moon, although perhaps that wasn’t quite true. Rose Petal watched as Celestia’s eyes suddenly glazed over, skipping over the marred half of the moon to focus entirely on the unblemished half, with the fervent belief it consisted of the whole.
Ah, so that’s how it works, Rose Petal thought, making a mental note to ask Starswirl for further details. “Uh… forgive me, princess,” she hastily amended, performing a light curtsy. “I was merely concerned for your safety. After all, your guards have not arrived yet.”
Celestia scoffed. “As if I needed them anyway,” she ridiculed, with her chest puffed out in pride. “Perhaps Luna might require them, but I on the other hoof am perfectly capable of raising the sun unattended.”
Taking the hint, Rose Petal began tidying up the inner chambers, leaving the princess to her celestial task. She always wanted me near her when she raised the sun, the mare brooded, trying to occupy her mind with opening the windows and meeting with little success. Well, for the past three weeks anyway. Before then, she used to always greet me with polite little hellos and goodbyes, nothing else. I suppose I never realized how close we were after what happened with Princess Luna. Rose Petal let her eyes trace over the healing rays of yellow and orange that were just beginning to shine over Canterlot. But nevermind that. Equestria is safe, and the princess is happy, so I suppose that’s all that matters. Yes, that’s all that matters. All that can ever matter.
Then the peaceful moment was shattered by a horrible scream from Celestia’s bedroom.
The fastest gazelles in Zebrica wouldn’t have stood a chance against Rose Petal as she galloped at top speed towards the sound, the fear in her heart sending adrenaline spiking through her as she began to imagine the worst-case scenarios. Had the potion hurt her somehow? Did she throw herself off the balcony like she always tried to, even while not remembering why? Had somepony broken in and attacked her, or worse?
Rose Petal found Celestia leaning on the balcony rail and holding her hooves to her temple, with her eyes shut tight in pain. At once, Rose Petal took her hoof and carefully guided her away from the balcony and into the cool, dark corner of her chamber.
“Princess, what’s happening?” Rose Petal cried, gripping her shoulders in panic. “Can you hear me? Celestia, please!”
After a few deep breaths, the moans of pain slowly subsided, and Celestia opened her eyes. Her hard, calculating gaze roamed all over Rose Petal, not so much in affirmation, but… scrutiny? “I… I’m fine,” she said in a strange tone, her eyes still sneaking odd glances at Rose Petal. “It was just a headache, that’s all. It sometimes happens when magic is channeled incorrectly. Don’t worry, I’m alright.”
While not entirely at ease, her muscles did relax somewhat at the princess’ assurances. “Well, that’s a relief,” Rose Petal said, with a look that was not quite a smile. “Do you need anything, a glass of water perhaps?”
“No, no, that’s quite alright,” Celestia answered, levitating her crown to her head. Her former cheerfulness forgotten, she regarded her maid with the iciest of looks. “I’ll be heading down to the dining hall now anyway. Good day, Rose.”
So Celestia left Rose Petal there, staring at the door long after it had closed, with worry spinning in her mind and a far less pleasant emotion squirming in her heart.
Morning broke, but Canterlot did not break with it. Despite the prevading sunshine, the whole city clung to the silence of night as they bunkered down in the safety of their homes. It was a strange inversion of the situation that birthed Nightmare Moon, one that was tragically poetic at best and cruelly sardonic at worst. How quickly poníes' hearts could be dissuaded, how rapidly hope changed to fear, though one could only find it fitting retribution. Or perhaps the citizens of Canterlot were simply tired of being broken. Perhaps this was the only way they could hold themselves together.
Whatever the reason, the city remained eerily desolate as Iron Strike ran through the deserted alleyways. The wind blew erratically as he jostled it, yet he remained unfazed. His hoofsteps were swift, but his heart remained steady and calm. He was not running out of fear. He could think of things like that later. Running was all that was important. If he did not know where he was going, his hooves would find purpose. He imagined the thundering hoofsteps of a pursuer, but his resolve still remained steadfast, knowing that he could always outrun any problem or adversary. He had never lived believing anything otherwise.
Over the puddles, under the archways, around the empty market stalls, he swerved through the maze of Canterlot until finally deeming his body far away enough from his mind, he skidded into a gloomy backalley to hide from the sun.
After a furtive glance at the murky shadows to confirm his solitude, Iron fell slouched against the wall, and not even pausing to catch his breath, began banging the back of his head against the bricks. Not terribly hard, of course; just enough to get himself to stop thinking.
And it worked. The slow, rhythmic throb of pain soon put him at ease, reminding him of the familiarity of home. His mind drifted off into soothing recollections of the hammer striking burning iron, smoothing out imperfection; the crackling of the forge's fire, melting away tears; the peaceful silence, only to be broken by...
"Papa, I would rather die than stay and slave away here, and thou know it! I have loved you enough to stay with you for this long. If thou truly love me, let me go to Everfree City!"
Iron Strike choked on a gasp as the fleeting memory jolted him back to reality. He pressed his hooves to his chest as a feeling akin to being stabbed tore through his flesh, tearing a gaping hole. Unbidden, one, then two, then a thousand tears trickled down his face. How curious a phenomenon it was, that the heart should bleed through the eyes.
Even though he had heard the sound of hoofsteps long before, he looked up only when he saw out the corner of his eye the flash of sunlight striking gold. His tempered golden eyes begrudgingly rose past the twin metal to lock with the clear blue eyes of the Canterlot guard standing before him. He searched for any storms beyond those two tranquil waters, and finding only uncertainty and pity, he scoffed. Did this guard find him weak? For a single moment of silence, his gaze hardened as he tried to boil the water into a submissive grey mist; when that was proven useless, he irritably snapped, "Are you going to arrest me or what?"
A brief look of hurt rippled on the guard's face, but he brushed it aside, saying in a surprisingly soft-spoken tone, "No, or at least, I don't think I will. I was just out on patrol, saw you all by yourself, and wondered if you needed help."
Iron gave one sharp laugh. "You wouldn't be wondering that if you knew who I was."
"Oh, I know who you are. You're Iron Strike, one of the ponies leading the riots against Princess Celestia," the guard said matter-of-factly, wearing the uncertain yet chipper smile of a tourist guide.
"Well bravo for you. I'd give you a medal, but I'm afraid I don't know your name."
"Oh, right! I'm Rapier, a captain of the royal guard."
"Well then, Captain, you don't sound like much of a captain to me," he commented, not budging from his place on the ground or showing any other sign of respect.
Rapier only smiled kindly. "Being a captain is more than just sounding like you ate gravel for breakfast. My soldiers know my abilities and respect me for them; that's all that's really needed."
"And apparently one of those abilities is fraternizing with the enemy."
Rapier's mouth opened into a slight O. "I don't believe you're an enemy," he said with striking sincerity. "Sure, you're a protester against the state, but Princess Celestia hasn't ordered your capture yet, so I see no need for animosity."
Iron snorted. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean you have to do... whatever the hell you think you're doing. Talking, smiling--"
"Being friendly? Don't worry about that; I don't think you'd let me be your friend if I tried."
"Then mind skipping the small talk and telling me what you want with me?"
"As a matter of fact, I've been using this small talk to figure out exactly why I want to talk to you. And I suppose the reason why is that... I'm just intrigued by you," he admitted, shuffling his hooves nervously.
"Yes, hurting the feelings of your precious princess can have that effect."
"Yes, you have hurt her, more than I think you'll let yourself realize," Rapier said seriously in what was probably the closest his voice got to anger. "But what I mean to say is that... you're different from the others. You want to hurt her, but not out of fear or desire for political power. It's personal, I've confirmed that now, though I knew it before I saw you cry."
At that, Iron Strike started vigorously rubbing away the tear streaks, giving Rapier the opening to say, "You don't have to put on that act here. I already know you're strong without you biting my head off with insults."
A retaliation formed in his mind, but realizing that it would only prove his point, he instead opted for, "Why should you care what my motives are?"
"Because... well..." Rapier bent his head in shame. His eyes traced the cracks between the cobblestones as he searched for the right words. "Part of me agrees with you. I've heard the story about your daughter, and I'm very sorry for it. But I can also perfectly understand your hatred. I... I would probably be doing just the same thing. Out of all the different types of ponies rebelling, you represent the group that seems justified in your actions. And that... well, it scares me, truthfully. It makes me wonder if I'm doing the right thing by fighting you.
"And yet you... you weren't at the riots yesterday. You're conflicted too, I can tell. The reason I came to you for answers is because I can see myself in that, see myself in you."
Iron idly kicked a pebble, refusing to look up at him. "Aren't you supposed to be the kind, noble guard that saves the day, like all the fairytales say? Aren't you supposed to be loyal only to your princess? That sounds pretty backwards from my life, so excuse me if I don't buy that for a second."
"I stopped believing in fairytales a long time ago," Rapier replied solemnly, "so I can see that you're being loyal to her, even when you say you've turned away from her."
"How?" It was such a simple question, but it was the first word he ever said without hostility, only curiosity, the innate curiosity of the world he never let himself have back home an eternity and three weeks ago.
"You're upholding her core values," Rapier said, looking him straight in the eye. "Love. Duty. Protection. It's written in your eyes. I'd say you're loyal in a lot of ways, even when you're wavering, even when you don't know which side to choose, because your heart's already decided."
Iron neither confirmed or denied his loyalty, but at the word 'side,' his softened expression darkened into a scowl. "Don't talk to me about sides," he ordered. "I already know what side I'm on."
"Hmm, I doubt you speak that way to Lady Starlight," Rapier said as he moved out of the sunlight and leaned on the alley wall opposite to Iron.
Affronted, Iron's fur bristled at the name. "My choices have nothing to do with her."
"If they didn't, then you wouldn't have this much trouble with leaving her."
"I'm staying because of my daughter. You know that."
"Even when you know this isn't what she would have wanted."
Iron stood up so they were both at eye level with the other. "You want to make me feel guilty for what I've done? Well too bad, because I don't go back on my decisions like that. I was angry, and being angry felt like the right thing to be. I needed to do something with that anger, and I have. Now, I'm tired of being angry with myself. I want to remember what it was like to love her instead, even when that love led to what should have been my biggest mistake but actually was my greatest gift." He paused, checking himself, before adding in a quiet voice, "That sounds like a fairytale, doesn't it? Well, she was a smart girl, and she believed in those types of things. Maybe she won't think too badly of me for doing the same."
Rapier smiled, a quiet and gentle smile. Iron answered with a shrewd, calculating look. "If this is some ploy you think will make me change sides, you're sadly mistaken. I'm not so shallow as to act purely out of emotion. I know perfectly well where my loyalties lie." And with that, he walked away from the sunlight and down into the alleyway, until he disappeared.
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of having you change sides," he laughed to himself, smiling up at the golden sun. "You just can't see it yet."
“I’m concerned for her.”
“That’s good,” Starswirl replied, rolling a scroll shut as he rose from his chair. His eyes were a misty grey, a storm rolling over the horizon, piercing Rose Petal with frightening seriousness. “You should be.”
“Was that headache normal?” Rose Petal demanded. “It couldn’t have been, couldn’t have! What if something went wrong, what if her mind’s been damaged somehow, what if—“
“I won’t deny the possibility that any of your fears could be valid,” the Grand Mage interrupted, “and for any one of your qualms, I can list an additional twenty more, so let’s spare us both the hysteria for now. Take a seat please, before you wear a circle in my floor.”
Glancing ashamedly at the indentations from her hooves, Rose Petal lowered herself onto the velvet cushion, where she took a series of slow, calming breaths before looking up at Starswirl expectantly.
“For now, all we can do is take this episode at face value, nothing more,” he began. “Although we should remain on the lookout for recurrences, what you saw this morning was most likely her brain trying to further process the new magical illusions the potion gave her.”
“You’re being optimistic,” Rose Petal noticed warily. “That worries me.”
Starswirl let out a short, gruff bark of a laugh. “Perhaps I’m merely taking a leaf out of your book.”
“Which worries me even more.”
“Oh don’t worry, I’ve already concocted a series of worst possible scenarios, including but not limited to complete insanity, obliterating amnesia, demonic possessing from Tartarus, and the occasional migraine, though I’m not going to trouble you with any of that,” Starswirl deadpanned. “You knew the risks when you made the decision to do it.”
“Yes, I know,” Rose Petal mumbled, refusing to meet Starswirl’s eyes.
The Grand Mage picked up on the detail instantly. “This is about more than a simple headache, isn’t it?” he questioned, softening his face into a slightly more sympathetic expression. “Rose Petal, you don’t need excuses to come talk to me. If I didn’t want you to come, you’d just kick down the door anyway.”
“I… I just can’t help but wonder if I made the right decision,” Rose Petal admitted.
“Oh? Is that all?” Starswirl asked with a shrug, at least before he melted into a sober tone under Rose Petal’s burning gaze. “You always have to believe you made the right decision,” he said, now deadly serious. “Even if you know you didn’t, even if everypony else in the whole world knows you didn’t, you have to think that way, because you can’t go back. Even if you keep stumbling, falling, messing up and making the wrong choices, you have to believe you can eventually find those two wrongs that make a right. That’s the only thing you can do.”
“Yes, because that’s very encouraging,” Rose Petal retorted, sarcasm dripping like acid.
“What else am I supposed to tell you? That everything will be alright? It probably won’t, you know. Acts of desperation rarely are.”
“And if it fails, it will be all my fault,” Rose Petal finished.
“Yes, it will,” Starswirl answered simply.
Turning away, Rose Petal placed a single hoof on the cold windowsill of the drafty tower and looked out to the ruddy light of the rising sun. So many ponies down below relished that sun, needed its energy more than blood and breath, and consequently needed Celestia, the one who raised it to life. Only now, it did not feel like Celestia was raising it, but her, with every second spent in the anxiety of keeping it in the sky through an eternal balancing act. The heavenly power teetered and wobbled beneath her inept, mortal body, knowing all the while that one wrong move could send the whole world tumbling into darkness.
Rose Petal shuddered. Failure was not an option. “Then help me ensure I won’t fail,” she commanded. “Start by telling me what Princess Celestia thinks she knows about the past three weeks.”
“All her memories of the Lunar Rebellion, including Princess’ Luna’s descent into madness, her own use of the Elements of Harmony, and her sister’s banishment to the moon, have been completely eradicated,” Starswirl began. “Now, she believes Princess Luna is on a diplomatic mission to the Griffon Kingdom to fix, among other matters, trading routes disrupted by the turmoil in Equestria. As for the Lunar Rebellion itself, Celestia believes it was caused by an unknown alicorn from a foreign land who tried to usurp the throne by impersonating Princess Luna in order to gain control of the Lunar Guard. This alicorn, who went by the alibi Nightmare Moon, was later murdered by the Royal Sisters, with her body sealed away in the depths of the Everfree Forest. All her other memories were slightly modified to compensate for the change.”
“And that will hold up?” Rose Petal asked.
“I’ve designed it to be rather airtight considering its ludicrousness,” Starswirl said. “Since the princess believes there to be a rumor about Princess Luna actually being Nightmare Moon, that can clean up any loose ends. I’ve also placed an enchantment, one that will grow stronger as time passes and Princess Luna does not return, on her hearing and vision to simply skip over anything irrational that does not comply with her delusion, whether it be an image, portrait, or mere mention of Princess Luna's name.”
“Wait, but I’ve mentioned her name,” Rose Petal realized, her eyes wide in fear. “She talked to me about Princess Luna being in the Griffon Kingdom.”
“Yes, as the spell caster and consequently the only pony who can break the spell, you are impervious to the spell’s effects,” the Grand Mage explained patiently. “Although, you ought to not mention Princess Luna unless absolutely necessary, if we want this to be a success. If we are lucky, perhaps we can delude her into believing her sister was a figment of her mind.”
Rose Petal recoiled in shock. “What? We can’t do that!”
“Why not?” Starswirl asked, idly twirling a quill with his magic. “It’s not much different from what you decided to do.”
“So you’re saying I made the wrong decision then?” Rose Petal said, growing defensive.
“I already told you, I haven’t the slightest idea,” Starswirl replied indifferently. “If I did, I’d probably be drinking right about now. The salvation or death of a civilization is a commemorative event, you know.”
“Will you stop acting like that already?!” Rose Petal shouted, stomping her front hooves on the ground in anger.
Starswirl’s eyes widened at her outburst. “Like what?” he asked, this time with genuine inquisitiveness.
“Like nothing ever hurts you, like you never care about anything!” the mare cried. “Because I know you did, Starswirl! You cared about Princess Luna, and you cared about Starlight Willow, or at least you did once. Don’t you realize how much they mattered to you? Are they the reason why you can’t show that you’re scared? You can’t keep doing this, always running and avoiding and hiding from Celestia, when the real pony you can’t face is yourself. Act like you actually care about her, because they certainly did! You… you think they’d be proud of how you’ve handled their deaths? Because they are dead, Starswirl, dead! And if I messed up, we could end up even worse than that! But for Faust’s sake, you haven’t even cried about them! They’re cold and dead and gone, and my God, why aren’t you crying…?”
But only Rose Petal cried, a painful, bitter crying, while Starswirl only looked on, impassive.
After a few seconds of silence and sniffles, Rose Petal wiped away tears from her red-rimmed eyes and looked up at Starswirl. “I-I’m sorry,” she whispered, breathy and shaky. “That was tactless, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Starswirl agreed, anger slowly building, ready to crash against a wall. “Yes, it was.”
Looking down at her hooves, she added, “But I don’t regret it.”
“I know you don’t.”
Starswirl looked at Rose Petal with cold, hardened eyes. “I think you should leave, Miss Petal.” It wasn’t authoritative or fragile. It was an emotionless truth, just like its owner.
“I’m sorry—“
“Rose. Please,” he ordered, while staring determinedly at an empty space inches above her head. Anywhere was better than at those bright green eyes. They’d know the truth. She’d know. She already did.
The sound of her first name sent shivers rippling down Rose’s spine, shivers that sent her numbly walking, out the door, out the tower, out into the open air atop the hill, and even there she heard the words ringing in her head, as clearly as if they’d been recorded into her heart they day she’d been born.
“You… you think they’d be proud of how you’ve handled their deaths?”
The proof of her hypocrisy lay as a dead weight in her left pocket, filled with a secret and a heavy conscience.
No, she decided. He wouldn’t.
Like waves crashing on the shore, gold struck the unrelenting marble with the force of earthquakes, sending shockwaves of anger reverberating off the walls of the hallway, as if Celestia’s hooves were beating the floors into submission. Her magenta eyes were hardened obsidian, devoid of all the sun’s benevolent warmth. Solar flares burned in them like coals as the sunlight wrapped around its mistress, setting her ablaze in harsh fire. And yet Celestia paid no heed to any of this; rather, her eyes narrowed into angry slits as she was doing what was arguably the sun’s greatest forte.
Fuming.
How dare she, the spiteful goddess thought to herself. How dare she presume my weakness; how dare she try to show superiority to me? As if I need her help, as if that pathetic excuse of a mortal could make decisions for me! And the,n how dare she refer to me without my title, like some worthless commoner! Does she not know who I am? I am powerful, I am beautiful, I am eternal, I am radiant as the sun, I am—!
“Princess Celestia, Your Majesty!”
At the sound of her name, Celestia turned to see Apple Harvest trotting down the hall to meet her.
“Forgive me, princess,” he began, sweeping into a low bow, “but there’s an issue that’s come up about the press conference. I regret to inform you that due to some sort of miscommunication, only four members of the Royal Guard are stationed in the grand hall, and all are unarmed, claiming to be purely ceremonial.”
“Yes, on my orders,” Celestia replied testily. With a sharp jerk of the head, she motioned for Apple Harvest to walk with her.
“But princess, your safety!” her advisor protested. “With the number of rioters outside the castle yesterday, who knows how many of them will turn up today, with intentions as violent as ever? They could come armed, try to hurt you—“
“And you believe I am unable to defend myself if they do?” Celestia demanded, the abated ire from before threatening to rise again. “I, who conquered the king of shadows and vanquished the god of chaos, inept at brushing aside a few barbaric protestors? You disappoint me, Harvest; I thought I had chosen advisors with more reason than that.”
Apple Harvest was taken aback, but eventually he lowered his head. “My humble apologies, princess.”
“And besides,” she went on, “assembling a small army would only further suggest both cowardice and hostility. If I am to gain their support, I must first gain their trust, not further provoke violence.”
“Words of wisdom, to be sure,” Apple Harvest approved, significantly more at ease. “And I assume there will be no short supply of those today. Hopefully this will put the whole tiresome affair to rest.”
“Yes, I hope so as well,” Celestia agreed. “It’s a sad event, certainly, but one that has long overstayed its visit. Yes, best for it to be forgotten; it’s all in the past now, isn’t it?”
Something in Celestia’s casual tone, so contradictory to her disposition of yesterday, struck a chord of worry in Apple Harvest. Now that he noticed it, the change was almost jarring. The proudly raised head, the well-rested eyes, the carefree ambiance; it was like looking at a different pony entirely.
“Princess?” Apple Harvest began, choosing his words carefully. “How… how do you feel about… about what’s happened? Is there something bothering you?”
Celestia only gave him a cold, affronted expression. “I do believe my personal affairs are of no business to you,” she said, shutting down all outward displays of emotion, and leaving nothing but an aloof, haughty pony encased in unmoving glass.
“Of course, Your Highness,” came the mumble. Apple Harvest hung his head in submission, and the two stayed in frozen silence for the short remainder of their walk to the main hall. Upon reaching the side entrance, he peeled away from her to disappear into the aisle of nobleponies as quietly as a ghost on the wind, leaving Celestia to stand alone.
Then there was the sound of trumpets playing fanfare, followed by a page announcing in his firm, resonating voice, “Presenting the Mistress of the Dawn, the Bringer of Day on High, She of the Eternally Rising Sun, Her Grand Royal Highness, Princess Celestia of Equestria.”
Now that’s a proper address, Celestia thought smugly as she stepped out of the doorway and into the light. At once, she felt the blinding spotlight of a million eyes obsessively fixated on her, but unlike before, she found no discomfort in it. Rather, she relished every moment, letting them drink in their fill of her as she ever so slowly descended the staircase. Her steps were as graceful as a dancer’s, her expression serene as the bluest sky. With horn of ebony and wings of snow, with hair of dawn and piercing eyes of dusk, she stood before her ponies as the pinnacle of flawlessness. There was no doubt, no hesitation, no weakness to mar her. She was perfect. And she wanted everypony to know it.
All the chattering and buzzing like flies had halted the instant the princess took center stage. Now, hopefully or skeptically or bitterly, every pony in that room waited in total silence, waiting for her to begin.
“Citizens of Equestria,” she began. Yes, that was how it started, right? Celestia knew she had rehearsed this entire speech by heart the night before, but now it seemed distant, hazy, unimportant. Greatness could not be planned, and so neither would she. “It is painfully apparent the occasion upon which we find ourselves gathered here, so We shan’t waste your time or Ours with a prelude. Just as there could be no introduction to the horrors of she dubbed Nightmare Moon, so too can there not be one for the sad, sad reason before us today.”
Lifting her eyes, Celestia looked out to the crowd of ponies. So valiant, so bold, yet so blind, every one of them, all lead astray by lies and delusions, but most of all, by fear. She could see it in their hearts, cowering behind eyes of fire, ready to fight. Cowardice clothed in courage; it was sickening. She would not stand for it. Even if it destroyed her, she would teach them to the meaning of fear.
“There have been rumors, awful, horrible rumors, regarding Nightmare Moon and Us. Of whether or not it is possible that We could succumb to the same curse, fall prey to the darkness that drove Nightmare Moon to insanity. Your concern is not unfounded. Considering what little is understood about the alicorn race, it is right, even wise, to be wary.
“However, it is on no account an excuse to give up all reason in favor of blind fear. That is idiocy in its purest form. We do not rule a nation of idiots, nor do We indulge in violent savagery. By coming here as civilized ponies, you have proved yourselves to be neither, and for that, you are lauded above your peers. You have shown that Equestria does and will forever consist of intelligent ponies searching for answers.”
By this point, everypony was hopelessly captivated by Celestia’s every word. Her hushed tones were like a fishing line, reeling them in ever closer. There was no podium separating them; there was no point in it. She stood tall and proud on her own, the brightly shining sun all other ponies gravitated towards, forever ensnared.
“However, for quite some time we had no answers to give,” Celestia admitted. “Even now, some of the highest authorities on magic will say there is still uncertainty. According to them, We could fall to the same fate as Nightmare Moon at any time. We could be classified as a threat to your country, your towns, your families, just as you have already decided. There is no use in denying it. We could become your new worst nightmare.
“But we will not. And this is why.
“Nightmare Moon was weak. Blinded by fear and insecurity, she allowed herself to be controlled by her worst emotions. She let them consume her until they were all she could see. But despite her cruel, violent exterior, all she was underneath was a sniveling, terrified filly trying to run away from the crushing weight of her own reality. We are sure you can relate.
“But We are stronger than that. We will not be broken that easily. Forged in sacrifice and solidified in grief, We have hardened Our heart so that not even a droplet of fear can seep through. Flawless. Connected. This is what provides strength. The support of a nation unites Us and guides Us away from the pitfalls of darkness. Or so it did.
“Is this the fate of Equestria? You cannot honestly claim your country is stronger when fighting fills the streets. Rebellion would worsen your problems. Only the strongest can resist the depravities of power’s evil hold, and We are your strongest light in that darkness. United under a common cause, We shall lead you away from the sorrows of the Lunar Rebellion. Nightmare Moon, a murderer, does not deserve to hold the power to tear apart a nation of harmony, and yet she does for every second you give her your fears. Leave her in the shadows of her sin to suffer as she rightfully deserves, and let your hearts not be troubled by the past.”
Out of the hundreds of ponies present, Celestia sought out only one. In the farthest corner, shrouded in the shadow of a pillar, Rose Petal stood alone, looking at Celestia with a strange emotion she couldn’t place. Wide-eyed emerald met icy magenta, as Celestia’s eyes and words pierced a wound straight into her heart.
“Sad memories are best left forgotten.”
Like an opening floodgate, ponies rushed forward towards their princess with questions burning on their lips. But Celestia paid them no attention. She was focused wholly and completely on Rose Petal, her resplendent eyes obscured in shadow.
Celestia coldly smiled. She had taught her the meaning of fear.
Rose Petal’s heart raced in her chest as she half walked, half sprinted away from the grand hall. Her head was bent and her eyes were closed in a futile attempt to keep the world from nauseatingly spinning around her, tearing her apart, even as she fought to keep herself together. Every deep breath she took tasted of poison, a poison that wormed its way into her mind and divided into a million thoughts crawling around in her mind with such persistence that she wanted to bash her head against the wall to qualm the infestation.
The rational piece of her mind told her there was nothing to fear, but Rose Petal mockingly brushed it aside as merely a blind fool. Had it not seen those eyes, those eyes that even now sent shudders down her soul? Those eyes were filled with glass and brimstone, cutting iciness and choking hostility, but more than that, they were filled with knowledge. She knew.
A single tear slid down her cheek at the thought of all of Canterlot, all of Equestria cloaked in eternal silence, their screams muffled beneath the mockery of peace as nightmares sucked their vitality away. A calamity that now seemed right around the corner, with her efforts like trying to hold back the sand that slipped through her hooves and down the hourglass of time. And it was only a matter of time until the spell crashed, as it had done for whatever reason before.
Starswirl was her only hope. And if he wouldn’t forgive her, then surely he would at least set aside his resentment to help her? Of course; he would never be foolish enough to hold a grudge in the face of something like this. Yes, that was it. In the small window of time she had left, she would go to Starswirl, and they would figure out a solution togeth—
Rose Petal’s thoughts flatlined when she was flung against the wall.
“You foolish, foolish girl,” Celestia hissed, holding Rose Petal in her magical grip as she was battered like a rag doll. “Do you take me for a complete idiot? Even if I can’t remember, do you think I can’t tell when a memory modification spell has been put on me, and such a shoddily cast one at that?”
“M-my princess, p-please,” Rose Petal stammered as she quivered in fear. “You must understand th-that I m-meant no harm—“
“Oh, I understand exactly what you meant,” Celestia said, her tone dangerous and biting. “After my magic reacted to the memory spell, I went to Starswirl, demanding answers. But who would have ever guessed that those answers would come from little Rose Petal? Yes, I heard it all,” she breathed, advancing menacingly towards her victim, magically pinned to the wall. “About the Lunar Rebellion, about Nightmare Moon’s true identity, about how I banished my sister to the moon using the Elements of Harmony. And I’ll tell you, it made a hell of a lot more sense than that rubbish put in my head.
“But of course, that didn’t explain everything. Starswirl isn’t stupid. The spell on me is only half of his usual magical power. The explanation remained elusive, until I realized who was the reason why I could remember in the first place: you.”
With a jerk of her head, Celestia sent Rose Petal plummeting to the floor. From Rose Petal’s pocket, a little glass vial clattered against the marble before her, who could only hide her face in deepest shame.
The vial was half full.
“Did you really want to forget that badly?” Celestia mocked with a heartless laugh. “Well, you’ll surely want to forget everything after tonight.” With each step Celestia took towards her, the alicorn grew in stature, tapping into more and more raw power, until she towered over Rose Petal, obscuring her in her looming shadow.
Then, in a blinding flash of light, Rose Petal found herself transported to the Solar Balcony. The grieving image of the Mare in the Moon dripped starlight onto the alicorn below, with all six Elements of Harmony floating around her.
“You thought I was too weak to face the truth, didn’t you?” Celestia demanded, her ethereal mane swirling around her like a chaotic tempest. “I, who have faced unimaginable horrors and even more unimaginable loses; I, who watched a dearest friend and dearest lover fall to darkness, unable to handle a temper tantrum from my sister? You had no right to try to take her away from me. And tonight, I’ll get her back. No longer will I be dictated by the Elements of Harmony. Tonight, I control them.”
Raising her eyes to the heavens, she declared, “Relinquish your power to me, O Harmony, for there is no other rule but mine. Break apart your prison of ice and stone and space around my heart so that Harmony can be reshaped in my image, and mine alone.”
Rose Petal could only watch in horror as Celestia pressed her hoof to the Element of Magic. At once, a lightning bolt tore the sky in two as the Elements of Kindness, Generosity, and Magic emitted a pulsating energy field that engulfed the alicorn in smoke. Then a beam of hot white light shot down from the moon to connect with Celestia’s horn, forming a link between heaven and earth, though not quite as nicely as it would seem. The light funneled bolt after bolt of lightning directly onto Celestia, who thrashed about wildly as she was lifted into the air. Her terrified eyes sought out Rose Petal before they were obscured in a burning light, flaming with the same heat that flared up on her scalded skin with an intense, all-consuming pain.
It didn’t take long before the screams of pain that rang across Canterlot changed to laughs of insanity. But it took an eternity for Rose Petal to finally raise her eyes, just in time to see the smoke dispel to reveal the figure beneath.
There were no words to describe the twisted abomination of the sun princess hat stood before Rose Petal. Her skin was painful light, her mane a fearsome blaze, and her eyes the deadly sight of red dwarf stars just ready to explode. She was terrible, she was beautiful, she was powerful, but she was not Celestia. No, this creature went by a different name, one that echoed silently in history forever.
The citizens of Canterlot were not strangers to the concept. As residents of a city nearly torn apart by riots, an outbreak of panic would have been a natural, ordinary response. But of course, the citizens of Canterlot were not your ordinary, average pony. Living in the cultural center of the world, these were Equestria’s best and brightest, and whether their hooves wielded a telescope, a paintbrush, or a simple feathered quill, all were dominated by a mind armed with wit as sharp as a rapier. These ponies were intelligent, rational creatures, blessed with the ability to not get caught up in the middle of a situation, but rather analyze it, control it, and rise above it. It was a reputation in which the city Canterlot held the highest regard.
Nopony would have guessed anything of the sort that night.
Those who were not cowering in their homes now filled the streets, everypony stumbling about in a blind panic. Like a detonated bomb, the terrified throngs mowed down everything in their path as they ran like Cerberus was nipping at their tails. All around, fires started to spring up to watch the horrid scene, with their crackling embers applauding the spectacle and their demonic faces twisting into a mockery of laughter. Yet the ponies remained blind and deaf to their audience; amidst the confusion, their sights were set solely on the gates at the outskirts of town. That gate was their lifeline, their passage to freedom. If they passed through, they would be safe.
Nopony made it that far.
One by one, ponies fell to ground as bolts of fire and lightning crashed to the cobblestone like meteors. They lay motionless among the ashes and smoldering coals in the streets, where the bodies piled up higher and higher, only to be trampled underhoof by those who would just seconds later succumb to the same fate. Every time a bolt struck, over the wailing and crying, there came the unified scream:
“Look, look up at the sky!”
At the warning, Sunshine Diamonds raised her eyes to the sky, where she saw the bolts of fire streaming from the single white beam of light coming from the highest spire of Canterlot Castle.
“Celestia,” the mare breathed, horrified. Then, without a second’s thought, she began her arduous trek towards the castle. At the beginning, it was like swimming upstream against a raging current, but as the crowds thinned, Sunshine was able to pick up speed before breaking into a full-on gallop. She kept her eyes set on the castle, daring not to look above or below her. And if she closed her eyes, she could almost trick herself into thinking the squelching of flesh and breaking of bones was nothing more than the squish of mud and snapping of twigs underhoof. But of course, she couldn’t, so she instead she let her mind switch to autopilot as she fell into the steady rhythm of evading fiery death.
Soon enough, Sunshine reached a completely deserted area of the city. There, bodies lay draped across every surface like discarded ragdolls, with the faint rise and fall of their chests the only evidence to the contrary. In the stark light of a distant fire, each of their features was thrown into relief. A sturdy pegasus stallion crushed under a fallen beam. A unicorn mare slumped at the base of a lamppost. A pair of teenage colts huddled motionless in the shadow of a doorway. A small unicorn filly surrounded by shards of glass from a broken window. A pegasus mare with her tangled pastel blue mane stained with dirt, puke, and something worse.
A million pictures flashed by Sunshine’s eyes in a matter of seconds. The hairs of fur on her back stood on end as she felt fear pour into her veins like ice cold water that was enough to make any mare drop to her knees at the sight of those unfortunate souls, each wearing an identical expression of terror. Yet with a shudder, she cast off the sensation. She would not let herself become one of them. So plowed forward through the silent wasteland, picking up more and more speed until the only thing she knew how to do was run far, far, far away, her steps in perfect rhythm with the beating of her heart.
“What in Tartarus is going on?”
That was the only introduction Sunshine gave from the moment she saw Apple Harvest’s head peek out the opened castle door. “Does this have to do with Celestia? Is she alright?”
“I am… uncertain,” Harvest admitted. “The Solar Tower has been sealed off with a particularly… volatile force field. Any attempts to reach the princess have been unsuccessful.” He shuddered. “I doubt those scorch marks will ever come off the portraits in that hallway. …But at least nopony’s hurt, so that’s alright, I suppose,” he finished on a bleakly positive note.
Harvest’s meager smile faltered as he saw Sunshine bite her lip and turn away.
“Your grandparents' portraits were in there, weren’t they?” Harvest asked with a sinking feeling in his gut.
Sunshine swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes,” she replied, tears welling the rim of her eyes.
“Err… if you don’t mind my asking… how much did they cost?”
“1.6 million bits,” she told the financial advisor with a sniffle.
“Shoot,” he muttered before giving Sunshine a reassuring smile. “Hey, don’t worry! When this is all over, I’m sure the Crown can replace all of them! And ruin my budget plans for the next five years,” he murmured as a bitter aside.
“If any of us are here at all when – if – it’s over,” Sunshine corrected.
“Well, I hope at least the castle staff will be spared,” he said. “I’ve ordered a full lockdown on the castle. Most of the ponies are gathered in the West Wing, so I believe they’ll be safe.”
“What do you mean by most?” Sunshine asked.
“Well, Grand Mage Starswirl insisted that he stay in his tower,” Harvest answered, pawing at the floor in nervousness. “He says he’s working on a way to fix whatever’s happening, and… well, it seems like something a unicorn would have more expertise in, and besides, he’s my superior, so what else could I do? I do hope he’s okay up there,” he added with a worried glance at the trembling ceiling before putting on his usual confident smile. “He’ll be alright, of course he will,” Harvest said, more to reassure himself than Sunshine. “It’ll take more than magical hellfire to faze him.”
“Do you really believe that?”
Harvest gave her a surprised look, as if the answer was obvious. “Of course I do. Princess Celestia obviously trusted him, so I will as well. I believe that he’ll be able to save us all.” He let a small smile brush upon his lips. “Just as I believe you’ll be able to help us too, my Lady,” he finished with a respectful bow.
“I believe her help will not be necessary,” commented an approaching voice. The two ponies turned their heads to watch Starswirl, looking haggard but triumphant, join them at the front of the grand hall.
“I’ve been able to counter Princess Celestia’s magic,” the mage announced proudly. “The Solar Tower is now safe to enter, and with the guard informed, I believe this crisis will all be over quite soon. In the meantime though, I think it wise that you escort Lady Diamonds to the West Wing, Apple Harvest.”
“And what will you do in the meantime?”
"I'll be organizing the princess' guard, of course. After all, I'll want to have adequate backup in the possible event that things go awry." Starswirl paused, then looked back to Apple Harvest. "That isn't going to be a problem, is it?"
The two stallions looked at each other dead on, each expecting some sort of a challenge. And even though one had the upper hoof in years and experience, it was painfully clear who held the final authority.
Harvest opened his mouth, attempting to speak, but he just ended up swallowing the words. "I... very well then. Come along now, Miss Diamonds, let's get you to the West Wing."
Sunshine initially fought against the order until her stubbornness faltered under Harvest's imploring gaze, after which she grudgingly allowed his hoof to guide her to the left staircase.
"What do you think you're doing?" She demanded in a whisper as he whisked her away. "You do not truly intend to just walk away, do you?"
"What else do you expect me to do?" Harvest snarled out of the corner of his mouth. "He's a unicorn, but more than that, he's Princess Celestia's right hoof; Equestria is under his authority in the princess' absence. He is Celestia in her absence. Do you have any idea how much she's done for me, how much I owe her for her graciousness? Forgive for my blunt rudeness, Miss, but I won't undermine her, not now, not ever, and not simply at your behest."
Then, a bit more kindly, "Starswirl doesn't ask for many things, but one thing he does expect is respect when it comes to his field. He wouldn't ask for my lack of assistance unless it was truly important."
Sunshine nodded her head. "I see," she conceded finally, "and I respect your viewpoint, Apple Harvest."
At that, he broke out into a most genuine smile. "Thank you, my Lady," he sighed in relief. "It helps a great deal to know I have your understanding and cooperation in this—“
"Which is why I hope you'll respect my viewpoint when I say I disagree entirely," she interrupted, all with the same patronizing smile that had now dripped off Apple Harvest's face like sap turned sour. "Oh, Grand Mage Starswirl!" She called sweetly as she briskly trotted over to him. "A word if you will!"
Horsespples.
When she skidded to a halt, the smile was wiped from her face entirely. “I want you to take me with you,” she said, her voice deadly serious.
“No.” There was no sugarcoating it; the word just fell like a blunt axe.
Sunshine revealed no sign of disappointment; rather, her icy eyes swept over him, appraising him, in the way a jeweler would examine a priceless diamond. “You are a stallion of reason, are you not, Starswirl? Then I will not give you a heartfelt, sentimental speech about why you should take me. Instead, I will give you a perfectly logical, practical reason, one that in all honesty I am surprised you did not reach yet, given your knowledge of the castle’s magic wards. Although, I suppose your ignorance should not be too surprising.”
That struck a chord with Starswirl. “Make this quick,” he snapped. “I don’t have all night for pleading and excuses.”
The young mare sneered. It was smooth sailing from there. “Very well then. As you know, when the castle is under lockdown, magical wards set in place by the Mage Council – including your prestigious self – are now activated in the Solar Tower for the princess’ protection. All main pathways there are closed off; even if you undid your enchantments, you don’t have the time to undo the others.”
“The servants’ entrance isn’t enchanted,” Starswirl countered. “I was intending to go that way.”
“You can’t,” Sunshine said with a shrug. “That defense mechanism is a stone slab over the entrance. Earth pony designed, you see. You could break it down if you wanted, or at least, if you wanted half the tower to fall with it.
“But that’s where I come in. You see, there’s a secret passage in the tower that leads to an offshoot of the princess’ chambers. It’s used solely for non-official visits, and known by only a few of Princess Celestia’s closest friends. And it just so happens that I’m one of them.”
Starswirl raised an eyebrow. “How was it that I was not informed?” he asked suspiciously.
Sunshine shrugged. “Maybe you should stop by for tea once in a while,” she teased.
“Then tell me where it is and how to access it,” he demanded, brushing aside her comment.
“And give away my trump card?” Sunshine asked, feigning shock. “Heavens, no! I want to go, and you’re taking me with you.” “I thought you weren’t giving me a heartfelt, sentimental reason.”
“I’m not,” Sunshine retorted with her intense, chilling glare. “My motives remain my own. Nor do they matter to you. You don’t have time to debate this with me. No guards, no backup; they'll just get in the way. If you want to save Equestria and Celestia, you must take me with you.”
“Grand Mage Starswirl, if I may ease your worries,” Apple Harvest said, stepping in between the deadlock glare, “I will gladly accompany you and Lady Diamonds. Perhaps my presence will keep her from being… ah, a hindrance.”
Starswirl looked back and forth between Sunshine and Harvest, until finally he resigned himself to fate with a sigh. “Just keep up, because I won’t be slowing down for you,” he said before trotting up the spiral staircase.
The two ponies waited until Starswirl was out of earshot before sharing a small hoofbump. “Success!” Harvest exclaimed happily. “Wonderful job, Lady Diamonds; I knew you could get us in!”
“Excuse me?” she asked, half out of disgruntlement and half out of amusement as Harvest practically skipped up the steps. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, you didn’t expect me to actually confront Starswirl, did you?” he remarked in his same lighthearted tone. “That would be like trying to slay a full-grown dragon! No, you were much more suited for the mission.”
“So you used me?” Sunshine asked, a hint of a playful smile traced in thin pencil on her lips.
“I prefer ‘mutual trading,’” he said with a wink.
“Then what do I get in return?”
“A 1.6 billion bit portrait of yourself, naturally.”
Laughter bubbled to Sunshine’s mouth. “You know you’re going to regret that later.”
“Yeah, well I’m just going to conveniently forget the consequences for now,” Harvest decided to Sunshine’s amusement. “By the way,” he added, “is there really a secret passage to Celestia’s chambers?”
“Pft, certainly not!” Sunshine laughed. “No, we’ll be taking the servants’ way. By then, it’ll be far too late to turn back—“
Suddenly there was a blast from outside shook the tower, sending Sunshine and Harvest stumbling into the wall.
“Woah,” Harvest remarked as he stretched out his hoof to Sunshine once the trembling stopped. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” Sunshine said. She nodded her head, half to affirm her statement and half to rid herself of the ringing in her ears. “Just a little… fazed, is all. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”
“We should be moving along then,” he said, nervously glancing at the fiery sky. He gave a quick jerk of the head before carrying on, not noticing the swoosh of flight over his head.
But Sunshine lingered by the window, looking out at the apocalyptic scene before her. This wasn’t nearly as worse as the Lunar Rebellion, but then again, that wasn’t saying much. Still, she couldn’t help but think back to all those bodies lying still in the streets. What being would they face at the top of the tower that had so much power upon those below? Not quite dead, not quite alive; not physically hurt but emotionally terrified. Suspended animation was inaccurate. A coma, questionable. Sleep, too nice a term. The ponies outside weren’t resting in peace.
So then, in what?
Fear consuming her, Sunshine’s eyes couldn’t look away from the flaming orbs of hellfire, littering the sky with numbers as numerous as the stars, growing closer and closer, until her entire vision was filled with burning light.
“Celestia?” Sunshine called. Her voice echoed strangely throughout the deserted garden, like the silent ringing of a hollowed bell. The whole world was quiet: no screams, no wails, no crashes of fire. It was the silence of a graveyard, of one who wished not to wake the dead.
It was here in the royal gardens that Sunshine stopped to breathe. In the back of her mind, she knew she should be in the tower with Apple Harvest and Starswirl, but it never broke the surface of her consciousness, as if the rest of the world was lying dead on the bottom of the ocean. All Sunshine knew was a feeling, an intensely burning sensation in her heart that Celestia was here.
A rustle.
Sunshine turned her head, only to come face-to-face with a bed of flowers, their bright red petals glowing in the moonlight.
A sob.
Her tensed nerves sent her head jolting to the side, but not fast enough. All she saw was a bush of gnarled thorns.
A laugh.
This time, she turned with near neck-snapping force, sending her flying into the side of a large stone fountain, engraved with unknown runes. Brackish water from a choking angel fell silently into the basin.
A song.
Sunshine didn’t even have to turn, for the cause of it could already be seen. One, two, three, four, five, six; there marched one by one out of the shrubbery the most appalling abominations Sunshine had ever seen.
They were six young mares, each with coats as dark as midnight and curled manes that shone like silver starlight, but that was where the loveliness stopped. Those features alone could have given them otherworldly beauty if they had not been horribly mutilated. Buttons had been placed over gouged out eye sockets, while red thread had sown their mouths shut into an eternal leer. A gold chain with a blood red crescent moon threatened to choke their throats, lined with scars that reopened into gashing wounds. Their appearance was like that of a broken doll, hastily fixed but still coming apart.
The leader’s buttons would continuously pop out of place, revealing a cracked eye that shattered into nothingness, only to revert back to normal in a blink. The sixth one would keep having to stop and re-sow a skull patch back over her blank flank. In the meantime, Number Three would break the stitches on her mouth and scream out a barrage of nails that impaled themselves on the back of the second pony, who would take them and arrange them into a heart over her chest. Number Five would laugh manically at the others’ suffering, at least until she broke out into a seizure, undoing the sown patches of black hide to reveal a white skeleton. But perhaps worst of all was the fourth one, whose head would do a 360 degree spin, faster and faster, until it flew off its body, connected only by a spring that would snap back the head back into place before starting the whole morbid sequence over again.
But Sunshine paid them no mind, even as they paraded around the garden, singing the song from Celestia’s nightmare. She couldn’t allow herself to focus on them. She had to find Celestia.
Just as the thought crossed her mind, her eyes caught on a glint of gold, like that of the princess’ crown. Turning her head, Sunshine saw that it came from the depths of a deep, deep pond.
There was no hesitation; it didn’t even cross her mind that she should hesitate. All saw was the promise of Celestia below, and the water as still as glass standing in the way. Not even taking a deep breath, Sunshine shattered the glass as she plunged headfirst into the water, into to the darkness below.
Or at least, there would have been darkness below if it had not been illuminated by a breathtaking light. A pure white light bathed the world in its radiant glow, splitting and fracturing against the swirling water to create a kaleidoscope of stars.
Sunshine kept turning to find the source of the ethereal light, but it followed her every movement. Only when she stretched out her hoof did she discover that her whole body was now composed of living diamonds.
A whoop of laughter popped from a bubble issuing from her lips as she gazed awestruck at her reflection. Light danced on the surface of her skin, turning her into living, shining light. She was light. She was beautiful.
When Sunshine finally looked away from her reflection, she saw to her further delight that a school of fish was swimming happily around her, with their scales reflecting her light to create a dazzling arch of rainbows that encircled Sunshine like a halo. She watched as they danced around her, smiled at her, revered her, like planets forever spinning around the glorious sun. It was intoxicating, and she quickly lost herself in the euphoric bliss of her own radiance.
So lost was she in her own little world that she didn’t notice at first the pain of the fire inside her. At first, she believed it was a flame within her that supplied her with light, but as the burning grew more intense in her lungs, she realized its more serious purpose. With a powerful kick, she propelled herself away from the fish to break the surface of the water.
No sooner had she taken a deep gulp of air than she choked on it as she saw what lay above her in the garden. While she had been underwater, a statue had been erected of Celestia, around which the six broken dolls now danced, cheering and singing and giving praise to their idol that glowed with the pure luminesce of the sun itself.
Sunshine held back tears as she saw that light weakly bounce off her diamond skin, once so radiant and now so grey and dismal. A reflection. An imitation. Nothing else but that.
As despair sunk into her heart, a new, boiling kind of feeling rose to the surface. Her face twisted into a scowl at the spectacle. The water rose up around her in a fearsome tempest, growing more and more turbulent until the waves rose nearly thirty feet into the air, brushing against the stars as it prepared to crash onto the shore.
Then the water stopped in midair as the six Clara Dolls turned their gaze on Sunshine. For a frozen second, all was silent as Sunshine locked eyes with those blank, unfeeling buttons contemplating her. She braced herself for an attack when suddenly, as if by some unspoken command, they picked up brittle twigs and with eerie synchronicity brushed them against the stars, setting the ends on fire. Armed with torches, the Clara Dolls proceeded to set the statue of Celestia on fire. Faces contorted into hideous sneers, they skipped happily around their creation, all the while singing the same nightmare melody as she burned.
Satisfied, Sunshine lowered herself under the water once more. Now, her diamond skin glowed a spectrum of blazing reds and oranges. Imaginary tongues of flame licked at the fish, which fearfully sped away in a spurt of bubbles, leaving Sunshine alone. She scoffed at their insolence. There was nothing to fear from her. Now that Celestia was burning, she would be the sun. Her own radiance and beauty would shine across Equestria. She could feel it now, the grandiose power of the sun radiating from her core, seeping to the surface, searing the nape of her neck…
An underwater scream caught in her throat as she turned and saw Celestia, now a vengeful mare of fire, lobbing solar flares at the water, while the Clara Dolls waved their extinguished torches and cheered her on, their garish faces grinning in satisfaction. A deafening roar issued from Celestia’s gaping maw as she assaulted Sunshine’s pond with fire. The water boiled to an unbearable temperature, heat melting her diamonds into a dull coating that cooked her skin bloody raw.
Her eyes dilated, part in fear, part in pain. Either way, she had to escape Celestia’s wrath. She started swimming deeper into the pond, but Celestia was causing the water to evaporate so fast that soon her hind legs were left exposed to the blows that singed at her fur.
Any tears that sprang to her eyes were indistinguishable from the receding water that would soon be her grave. Fire was all around, blazing upon the water, swirling in her deprived lungs, and flaming in her eyes, filled with the vision of a demon, the last thing they would ever see.
Her hooves scraped the bottom. She was trapped in a corner. Her fish lay dead on the shore. Only a little water remained to stand between her and hellfire.
There was only one thing for her to do. Shutting her eyes, she begged the resilient final dregs of water to wrap around her, mixing with the melted diamonds to form a hardened substance that left her immobile. It engulfed her, rising from her legs and spreading across her torso, preserving her for time immemorial. As her heart ticked the final countdown, it spread over her eyes, leaving her blind. Even still, as she lay broken and defeated, she sent up her final prayer.
I wish I could see a statue of myself in that garden.
With a resounding crack, Sunshine became encased in ice.
A loud cry was strangled in her throat as her eyes snapped open. Her eyes darted around wildly, first at the pure white ceiling, then the pitch-black night outside, and finally the clear shards of glass circled around her before the colors all blurred into one. She held back a moan as tingling waves of pain came from her legs and the back of her neck, all stiffened and bent at odd angles. Her heart was beating rapidly, sending blood pounding in her ears and gushing with dizzying force to her head, worsened only by the vigorous shaking of two hooves gripping her shoulders.
Collectively, it was enough to make Sunshine lose her temper as she snapped, “Would you stop it already? I’m up, I’m up, you don’t need to shake the brains out of me to know I’m not dead.”
Starswirl merely brushed the comment aside as he let go of her and watched her pick herself up from the cold cobblestone staircase. “For all I knew, you could have been.”
“I thought you weren’t going to slow down for me,” she demanded, narrowing her eyes into slits. “Why did you wait?”
“Information.” The reply was impassive. “In case you couldn’t figure it out, you were hit by a fireball. What happened to you?”
Sunshine scowled, but answered quietly with, “A dream. A strange, disturbing dream. No, more than that. A nightmare. A terrifying one, more so than I’ve ever felt before.”
The Grand Mage nodded. “Just as I predicted. This magic isn’t Princess Celestia’s; though from my analysis, it takes her form. The core of its power comes from the corrupted Princess Luna. She’s controlling her.”
“Then what are we waiting here for? We need to go and save Celestia before she destroys Equestria!”
Starswirl shook his head. “We can’t.”
“And why not?” she snapped.
Wordlessly, he stepped to the side. A gasp caught in her throat.
Apple Harvest lay motionless across the floor, with a trickle of blood dripping into his vacant eyes.
When Apple Harvest opened his eyes, the world was green. The lush green grass lay underhoof in the morning dew, while the green leaves of trees swayed in the breeze before fluttering to the ground like snow. Row after row of trees continued on into infinity, blurring into one virescent hue. Even the domed sky above bore a green tint, as if even the sun in the heavens wanted to emulate the vibrancy of nature’s humble dress.
Nature’s presence was everywhere: in the fragrant aroma of the tiny green apples in the trees, in the sweet melody of chirping birds, and in the simple, raw, authentic aura of the loving earth.
Apple Harvest hated it.
Without even thinking, he took off running, somewhere, nowhere, anywhere but this monochromatic prison. The uniform trees closed in on him, merging into two walls on either side, but he was fine with that. It only told him the path on which to run away. He didn’t look back, not even once, just as he had done when he was seven years old. You never looked back when it came to the heart.
The route was just as he remembered it. Right, right, left, right, straight, left, right, as he made his way to freedom. His hooves trod along the dirt path with the familiarity of an old friend. It would have been a fond reunion, a revisiting of happy memories, except happiness was never here, not for him. Everywhere else was made happy for being the place where this was not.
Harvest skidded to a halt just seconds before he would have crashed into the green dome around the apple orchard. He didn’t bother trying to break through it. That was what he would have done before, but now he was different, changed. He had intellect, and that intellect was telling him to analyze.
Up in the sky, there was the sun at its acme. Unlike the rest of the world, it shone a beautiful white, but more than that, its light highlighted flaws in the forcefield, flaws that all converged on that bright white vanishing point. That was its weak point. It needed to be broken.
Harvest picked up a fallen green apple and rolled it in his hoof curiously. A young colt in another life had once played a game like this, where he would stand twenty yards away from a basket and still toss the apple in with flawless precision and confidence. Now, it sat in his hoof and filled him with doubt. He hadn’t played, or even thought about this for years.
His aim was perfect.
The apple disappeared into the light as green tinted glass shattered and came crashing down into nothing. Harvest looked up at the beautiful blue sky and took a deep gulp of a breath before choking on it as he watched the branches of trees reach up like fingers clawing towards heaven. They scratched viciously at the blue sky, which flaked like dry paint to reveal a raw and bloody backdrop beneath. Now tainted with splotches of rusting red, the branches stretched and merged together to form one grand ladder leading into the heart of the sun itself.
Harvest grabbed onto the lowest rung and quickly scrambled up the ladder. Higher and higher it went, creaking and moaning in the wind. Even as he nimbly skirted around the more spindly branches, it still groaned under his weight and threatened to give out any moment, sending him plunging back down into the green world.
He released a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding as the last rung dispelled into mist and turned into a platform beneath him. Now, at the very top, there was no green to be seen below, only white. Blank white walls were everywhere, above and below and on all sides. Featureless. Empty. Silent. Like a blank canvas or a blank page, it held the potential that only new beginnings had. The only remnant of the old green world was the little green apple he had thrown that now sat in the center of the white.
He held the apple in his hoof and scrutinized it carefully. It was a softer green than he had remembered, easier on the eyes, and yet even its faded glaucous color stood in stark contrast with the surrounding white. It did not belong here, a fact that filled him with an unappealing mix of pity, contempt, and nostalgia, but mostly shame. It didn’t belong there. He could stamp it out right then and there, but that wouldn’t be right. It should at least be aloud to ripen to a bright, shiny red.
He looked around. A misty fog was encroaching. The apple wouldn’t last long out in the open. It needed to be tucked away in secret, never to see the light of day.
So Apple Harvest did the only logical thing.
He shoved the apple into his chest.
With a bright glow of magic, the apple passed through the skin and tissue seamlessly. It was not a painful or unpleasant feeling, much to his surprise; rather, the apple merely hung suspended inside for a moment, as if becoming acclimated to its new home, before settling into a cavity in his right breast, where it stayed like a second heart. It was a little heavy, but bearable, even when made all the heavier by a gloomy music hanging in the air, singing of doom and despair and foreboding and death…
Wait, what?
From out of the swirling mist, there emerged the six Clara Dolls, all singing Celestia’s nonsensical nightmare song as they marched about with cheerfulness on borderline insanity. This time, however, they were adorned with royal cloaks, crowns, and scepters, each piece being so disproportionately large it was almost amusing. But Apple Harvest couldn’t do anything than tremble in a decidedly unamused manner as their bright red clocks dragged behind them, their bejeweled crowns slipped and severed their button eyes, and their golden scepters scraped across the floor in a single drawn-out screech.
The morbid procession stopped when the leader suddenly turned her head, as if hearing her name, and marched straight up to Harvest. She stood mere centimeters in front of him, her rattling breaths sending shivers down his spine, shivers made all the more intense when he felt a moist and sticky substance drip onto his chest. Looking down, he saw a paintbrush held in her hoof and a dollop of white paint smeared on his fur. He recoiled in disgust.
The Clara Doll cocked her head to the side curiously, innocently inquisitive. Protection, her soft, child-like voice whispered, even as her lips remained stitched up. That stands out too much. With her paintbrush, she pointed to his chest, now pulsating a neon green.
Apple Harvest nodded in compliance. Tentatively, he took a step forward, now in reach of her paintbrush. Closing his eyes, he felt the paint hug the contours of his body, melding seamlessly. As the other five Clara Dolls joined her, the process sped up, with paint quickly swirling up his legs, along his back, rising higher and higher until it engulfed his face. The paint solidified into a second skin, as natural as if it was his from the day he was born.
Harvest opened his eyes and looked down to find in relief that the glowing green light was completely obscured. A grateful smile graced his features, as he tried to hold out his hoof to the Clara Doll.
It wouldn’t move an inch.
His heart dropped into his stomach. A Clara Doll giggled as she held up a black string tied to his front leg. Four others did the same, revealing strings crisscrossed around his legs, neck, and face. Meanwhile, the leader smiled affectionately as she held up the brush to his face.
Trust me, you’re better off not seeing this.
Then she swiped the brush across his eyes.
At once, everything slowed down. His mind fell under a deep fog, and his heartbeat faded to a steady glug. The now white-tinted world swirled with a dense mist that obscured the Clara Dolls as they pulled his strings, making him dance and bow and smile like a puppet. As he fell into a lulling rhythm of these motions, he felt no need to resist their control. He was in the land of white, where nothing would be unpleasant or sad. As long as he was not in the sad land of green, he would be happy. He didn’t care what happened to him so long as the apple was safe.
Like a sudden pause button, the Clara Dolls’ laughter was cut short only to instantly be replaced by far lovelier one. The beautiful sound rang out across the white abyss, like light breaking through storm clouds. Apple Harvest’s heart soared at the innocent, lighthearted laugh, and his smile muscles strained against the tight black strings. A doll yanked his head up to watch as Celestia skipped into existence from the mist. Her pure white coat made all else look the drabbest grey in comparison. Radiance poured forth from her smile like the incarnate sun she was, and like all life on earth, Apple Harvest strained to be near her. He fought to match her smile, to make himself noticeable, but the strings kept his face blank and impassive.
Luckily for him though, Celestia was already on a direct course straight towards him. Her magenta eyes studied him curiously, as if searching for an answer beneath the mask of white.
Suddenly, her head jerked upward as she lifted her ears to catch a voice unheard on the wind. Worry briefly flashed across her eyes as her head pivoted to face an unseen figure off in the distance, before she regained her previous smile. “It’s alright, Sunshine; there’s nothing here,” she called to another room of infinity. Then she turned back and looked Harvest straight in the eye.
“It’s just an empty husk.”
Before Harvest had time to react, Celestia simply lifted his head off his neck to reveal a gaping hole where he himself should have been, was actually there, but no longer present. He mentally shuddered as he felt a cold draft whistle through the black void of emptiness.
Well, almost empty.
His breath hitched in his throat as he felt Celestia reach inside him, take hold of the apple, and lift it out. His heart beat frantically, not daring to bear witness to the moment of truth, the undeniable evidence of the land of green that would be his ruin.
When Celestia realigned his head, he almost didn’t believe she had done it right. Surely, something had gone wrong, had turned the universe upside down, for it couldn’t possibly be true. This was worse, far worse than what he could ever imagine.
Celestia held out an apple as white as death.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
This was Sunshine and Harvest’s universal reply any time Starswirl opened his mouth, a cycle that resulted in graveyard silence as they made their way up the Solar Tower. Thoughts swirled about both their heads, scary thoughts of inner feelings and questions to which they didn’t have answers. Like pulling on a rubber band, they stretched out five minutes into five eternities, with one end tied to them and the other stretched across realms to that other nightmare self, one that might be closer to home than either dared to admit. During all that time, they tried to push those thoughts deep into the farthest recesses of their minds, while Starswirl fought the inquisitive instinct to pull them to the surface. Finally, he stopped and turned around.
“Alright, this is getting ridiculous,” Starswirl stated bluntly. “If you two aren’t going to tell me the details of… well, whatever happened to you, then I’ll have to get them myself.”
Apple Harvest only displayed a brief moment of surprise before asking with his usual composure, “And how do you propose to do that?”
“Simple. You two were hit by those magic fireballs, were you not? I don’t find much obstacle in doing the same to myself.” “With all due respect, Grand Mage Starswirl, I don’t believe you want to do that,” Harvest advised as a shudder went down his spine.
“This isn’t the time for such an experiment,” Sunshine chimed in. “We must get to the princess quickly, remember?”
“But what of when we reach the top?” Starswirl countered. “I doubt Princess Luna’s power will be quelled without confrontation, and to do that, I will have to fight her magic, which will most likely be similar to what you experienced. If I can figure out how to fight off her nightmare visions, then it will be all the more easier to fight it off in reality.”
“You’ll get lost in the nightmare,” Harvest warned him. “Whatever you see, you’ll think it’s real.”
“But unlike you, I will be entering with awareness. I won’t lose control.”
“But what if you can’t get out of it?” Sunshine asked, thinking back to all the motionless bodies she had run past in the streets. “Nopony else in Canterlot has been able to.”
“That is because they were all hit simultaneously, with nopony else around to wake them,” Starswirl explained in full confidence. “Just give me five minutes; it is all I ask. If I do not find a way by then, you can wake me up.”
Starswirl looked directly into twin stars of jade and aquamarine, both filled with apprehension and worry for him. Unwillingly, he felt his voice catch in his throat.
“I’ll… I’ll be counting on you.”
Then without waiting for a reply, Starswirl smashed the nearest window and let his vision burn in flaming light.
When Starswirl opened his eyes, he found himself looking up at himself. Well, himself times a thousand, more accurately. All his faces looked down at him with identical expressions of slight surprise as they were flattened against the ceiling into the realm of two-dimensional.
At once, Starswirl knew where he was. This was one of the crystal caverns of Myrtania from his expeditions beyond Equestria. Every facet of every crystal was in its remembered place, as if he had been transported back in time. He keen eyes studied the scene fascinatedly, trying to take in the slightest of details and record them for the sake of research, but more so, understanding. He didn’t have any particularly significant memories from there, just that they held crystals used in making rune stones, so why the nightmare had decided to take place there was unknown to him.
But never mind that, he chastised himself, remembering the task at hoof.
In the center of the cavern stood a solitary candle, distorting the copy-and-pasted faces in the flickering light. His reflections watched as he approached the candle and lifted it experimentally with his magic.
So he could use magic here. That was the part he had been most concerned about. He then cautiously dipped his hoof into the flame, only to recoil with a yelp. Starswirl studied it curiously as he rubbed his burning red hoof. So pain could be felt in these dreams. That was important; it suggested something more powerful than a mere illusion.
Breaking off a piece of crystal, he carved a rough pentagram in the ground around the candle. Then he took a step back so he was just outside the line, placed a thoughtful hoof to his chin, and decided on which spell to use.
Planting his hooves in a steadying position, he began channeling magic, forming strands of pale blue light that flowed into the pentagram. When the last leyline fell into place, a wall of light flared into existence around the candle. His Deconstruction Spell swept over the feeble source of light, only to remain resiliently in existence when the magic faded into wisps of smoke.
Starswirl shrugged off the temporary failure. He could figure out a way to defeat Luna’s corrupted magic in due time.
A Mental Disruption Hex. Nothing.
A Magical Composition Analysis. Zilch.
A Distortion Bypass Enchantment. A slight breeze.
A Headache Relieving Incantation. That only helped a little.
Starswirl could feel the eyes of his thousand reflections boring into the back off his neck, evaluating his every action, and boring straight into his soul. He repressed a shudder as he gritted his teeth in resolve. It’s just a dream, just a dream, just a dream, he repeated like a saving mantra as he continued on. Finally, when his last spell puttered out, he fell to the floor gasping for breath, while he glared down that impertinent little candle. As its tiny flame mocked him, so too did his reflections look down disparagingly at himself and his incompetence.
Starswirl felt the blood rise and burn in his veins. Looking up into the endless crowd of laughing faces, he desired nothing more than to smash each and every crystal, to watch as their jeers shattered into pieces that littered the floor amidst their broken bodies…
He mentally shook himself. None of this was real. He couldn’t let them get to his head.
He had to make plans. It was obvious that his attempts at magic were getting him nowhere. No matter how differently time flowed in the dream, his five minutes wouldn’t last forever. The wisest course of action would be to explore as much of the nightmare as possible in order to hopefully work out its inner machinations.
And escape those watching eyes.
With a plan now in mind, Starswirl turned his attention to the lone, impervious candle. While it would be nice to have a source of light in the caverns, it was welded firmly into the ground, and the wax wouldn’t snap off from the base. So instead he approached it carefully, while his reflections followed his every movement.
The hairs on the back of his neck tingled. For the sake of his sanity, those needed to be destroyed. But smashing every one would neither be practical nor efficient. So he settled for the next best thing. Out of sight, out of mind, after all.
Laughter ringing in his head, Starswirl blew the candle out.
…Only to see another source of light off in the distance. A stronger yet softer light than the candle spread out before him, splashing a silver glow onto the shadowy features of Princess Luna’s chambers. It trailed on the floor like a swirling path, bending and contorting only to flow out into the adjacent room.
With a sharp intake of breath, Starswirl fought to repress the memories that now accompanied this place. It was just the dream trying to get under his skin. This was not the time to be getting emotional. He had to be rational if he wanted to get out of this, and right now every rational bone in his body was screaming not to follow that silver light.
And yet all that screaming was drowned out by the quietest murmuring that swelled from that room. It quickly rose to a fierce yet subdued crescendo until the mysterious chant could be heard.
The words were utter nonsense, but that was unimportant. The only thing that mattered to him was the speaker, whose voice he could place amidst a roaring din of thousands. Almost unwillingly, his hooves were drawn to the silver path of jagged light. To his surprise, it stung like a bitter cold wind, yet he persisted, spurred onward by curiosity and an even graver sin, until he threw open the door and tumbled headfirst into the light.
At the sound of the door swinging shut, the bright illumination dimmed to reveal Rose Petal, though not the one he knew from the land of reality, wherever that was now. Gone was the servant apron in which he had seen her last, replaced by a black religious gown with a matching lace veil down the back of her head. Wilted bouquet flowers were punctuated with barbed wire that crisscrossed like a corset around her chest, dripping with blood from the wounds. She was the mockery of a bride as her joy changed to pain, but not from the barbs. Rather, it came from the weight she had to carry.
Tied to her right hoof was a cross, now turned upside down into what looked like a wooden sword. Upon the tip, she balanced the flaming orb of the sun, and on top of it, the silver sphere of the moon. While not even the size of the room, Starswirl could tell the weight was causing Rose Petal great pain. Her hind legs trembled violently from the pressure, tears trickled from her dilated eyes, and sweat like blood dripped from her temple. She moved the cross beneath the celestial bodies like a child trying to balance a plate on a stick, as the sun teetered and threatened to fall at any moment. And yet she still kept madly chanting gibberish like a prayer, even as her jaw unhinged into a gaping maw.
Starswirl watched the spectacle with absolute horror. She was surely going to break from the strain; no mortal could cradle the divine. The part of him that had driven him to open the door wanted to rush over and help, but other that had blown out the candle hesitated. How much of this illusion was real? Was Rose Petal really in his dream? Was she really feeling pain like he did, or was this merely a hologram acting as if she could? There was no way of telling without hurting her by his magic.
‘Whatever you see, you’ll think it’s real.’
That was the only information he could trust. If he wanted to survive the nightmare, he had to go on the assumption that everything and everypony was just a figment of his mind.
Trying and failing to avert his eyes from Rose Petal, Starswirl made his way across to the door on the other side of the room in the hope that it would lead him back to reality. However, just as he crossed halfway, Rose Petal abruptly jerked her head around a terrifying degree to look him in the eye, as tears glistened in hers.
“Help,” she just managed to croak out.
Starswirl bit his lip but stayed silent. It’s just a dream, just a dream, just a dream, he told himself. He remained unmoved and turned away, wanting to continue onward, when a motion out the corner of his eye made his breath catch in his throat. He whipped around just in time to watch Rose Petal tilt the cross just enough to let the moon roll off the sun and into her outstretched hoof, in which it shrank down to the size of a marble.
Rose Petal tilted her head and studied him curiously, while he looked back petrified, like a bystander watching someone about to jump off a bridge. She pursed her lips in a mocking frown, her eyes glinting with malicious intent, before she ever so slowly let the marble moon fall to the ground.
Somepony screamed.
Then right on cue, from the next room over, the six Clara Dolls processed in, holding smashed pomegranates. This time, they were clothed in black mourning dresses, each with a black veil concealing her smiling face as they cheerfully sang, “Gott ist tot! Gott ist tot!”
Like faithful followers, they rallied around Rose Petal, who looked down on them patronizingly. “Is the deed done?” she asked in a cold, aloof tone.
When they simultaneously nodded, she motioned with a jerk of her head for Starswirl to follow her. Not knowing what else to do, he fell into line. Dread made his heart thrash wildly in his chest as the Clara Dolls respectfully parted the curtains for them to peer into the ominous gloom beyond.
Giving Starswirl a pointed glare, Rose Petal turned on her heel, still balancing the sun on her sword, and flounced off to the side, leaving him alone at center stage. He edged forward cautiously, nervously, as the shadow of the arch fell over him, giving way to the solemn grey moonlight. His eyes followed the trail of light up the windowsill, under the ledge, and down, down, down.
Then the light shattered around Princess Luna, dead on the floor.
A curious thing about the dead. Corpses always seemed smaller in death than in life, as if they were hiding from the life around them, no longer wanting a part of the game. They were nothing more than huddled masses of shrunken skin, brittle bones, and empty eyes curled into fetal positions like mockeries of children. In Luna’s deserted body, Starswirl did not see the evil and misanthropic Nightmare Moon, but a child, a filly. She had smiled, had laughed, and had loved. And now she was dead.
A tear slid down his cheek. Then another, then another, until they formed veins like rivers of blood shining in the moonlight on his face.
He didn’t know how long he stood there. It wasn’t like it mattered. Nothing mattered anymore. All he knew was that there came a point when he couldn’t bear to watch the world around him shrink Luna into a dead pile of nothing. Not wanting to see anymore, he violently turned away, only to come face to face with Celestia.
She had replaced Rose Petal entirely, even donning her black bridal headpiece like a mourning veil. In her fragile hooves, she held aloft the sun, now burning low on the wooden sword like a torch. The dying red light drained the vibrant lifeforce from her, turning her eyes the dullest grey.
“Do you wish to see nothing too?” she asked like a condemned mare complying to her fate. She held out the dim sun like a candle, illuminating Starswirl’s tears reflected on her own face.
A gasping sob wrenched itself from his throat. He looked back and forth between the dead Luna and the dying Celestia before giving his silent answer.
Closing his eyes, Starswirl blew the candle out.
With a shocked gasp, Starwirl resurfaced to reality, where Sunshine and Harvest stood above him with worrying eyes.
Harvest gently placed his hooves on Sunshine’s trembling ones, forcing her to stop shaking him awake. Her lips formed a silent O of surprise before launching forth with a stream of questions. “Well, what happened?” she demanded. “You couldn’t get yourself out in time. What was stopping you? You did know you were in a dream, right? Were you attacked? What did you see?”
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Canterlot, balls of fire sprayed into the air like deadly fireworks, illuminating the aftermath of a spectacle none of the survivors had wished to see. Nobles had been driven out of their luxurious homes only to languish on the frozen, unforgiving barrenness of earth that was their resting place. Unicorns had tried to erect magical shields only to be short-circuited by the enchanted fire, while pegasi had failed to bring a wall of storm clouds to surface level before being shot out of the sky. So finally, as a last resort, all three pony tribes were forced to stay huddled together in groups by earth pony fires, while they watched as far less benevolent ones rained from the turbulent skies.
But now, the bonfires had burned low, and weariness sagged from their eyes. One by one, the ponies inevitably drifted off to sleep, only to recalled from their nightmarish hell by a friend. By that point in the night, almost everyone had succumbed to sleep, and the terrified screams of waking had slowly died off to be replaced by a gentle sobbing and melancholic silence. From those who had not yet fallen, a quiet murmuring pervaded the shoddy encampment, only to all of a sudden be broken by a furious yell.
"What in the stars’ name do you think you're doing, Iron?!" The thundering ire of Shining Starlight blared across the field with an authority that rivaled the Royal Canterlot Voice itself. Then, like the raging storm she was, a bolt of purple lightning streaked through the now silent crowds with impossible speed to intercept Iron Strike at the gate.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" he demanded, regarding her with none of his previous decorum and respect. "I'm going to reenter Canterlot."
“You can’t do that,” she told him sternly, like a governess reprimanding a child. “You know you can’t do it, and why you would ever want to do that is—“
“I know perfectly well what I’m doing. I’m going to open the doors as wide as they can go and then walk on in to save the princess like it’s a Sunday afternoon stroll.”
"That’s insane," she whispered before reverting back to screaming. "You're insane! Do you want us to get hit by the fire? Do you want to die?!
In terror, Shining grabbed his foreleg with her magic. Iron looked down for a moment in mild surprise, only to gently shake himself free. "Don't you understand?" he beseeched her quietly. "It's the only thing I can do."
"There's no need to be impulsive," she tried to rationalize, all the while growing more and more desperate. "You've just woken up from a nightmare. I understand your fear, but there's nothing to be afraid of. Please, stay here, until it's safe."
"But it will never be safe, not until we do something to make it safe. Hiding in the shadow of Canterlot’s outer wall isn’t going save us. Hiding from anything won’t save us. I only regret that it took a dark enchantment to make me realize it."
By now, all eyes in the encampment were trained on them, but she paid them no mind. "You’re not making any sense! You can’t desert us, not now!”
“On the contrary, I find it quite easy,” Iron snapped. “I’m done being your partner, your mascot, your puppet, whatever I am to you. For the first time in what feels like forever, I’ll be doing something without you. Nopony needs to follow me in. Nopony else needs to get hurt. There was a reason why I joined your cause, and that same reason is why I’m leaving it.”
Shining looked like she had been struck. “Then leave,” she ordered, her anger just enough to keep her voice from shaking. “Leave, and never come out! I hope you die in that Faust-forsaken city!”
Iron only looked on as she stomped her hooves on the ground. “You’re being a little emotional in public, aren’t you, Starlight?” he mocked while angry tears behind her mane were shielded from his gaze. “Stop throwing a temper tantrum; it’s unbecoming. Or are you just upset because you’ve lost a toy from your control?” Then in a lower voice that nopony else could hear, he added pointedly, “There, is that enough now? Are you angry enough to let me go?”
“Of course! Didn’t you hear what I just said?” she demanded through clenched teeth.
“Reverse psychology doesn’t count, Shining.”
A pause. Then: “You want to save her, don’t you?”
“I’ll say any lie you want to believe if it means you won’t stop me.”
In a shameful sign of weakness to her, she lifted gaze so Iron could see the tears weighing pregnant on her lower eyelids. “Why?” she asked forlornly, her voice trembling. “This isn’t courage; it’s recklessness. Why do you insist on dying anyway? You hate her for what her sister did to your daughter, so why are you choosing her now? Why… why do you want to leave your friend?”
Iron scoffed at the pathetic excuse of a lie for the relationship they had. A gasp tore from Shining’s throat as he kicked open the gates of Canterlot and turned back to look at her for the very last time.
“Because you don’t know what my worst nightmare is.”
“I swear… I’m going to sue this… blasted architect… once this… is over.”
“I think you’d have a hard time filing a lawsuit in Purgatory, especially if you’re demanding capital punishment,” Harvest replied, watching Sunshine curse between tired pants as she trailed behind. “And what would the crime even be?”
“Yeah, well, I’m going to be in Purgatory before we get to the top, so it’s murder by exhaustion, that’s what it is. Who even builds a staircase this high?”
“Perhaps somepony who wished to keep the princess safe,” Harvest answered quietly. “Personally, I’m fine with it.”
Sunshine made a tiny retching noise under her breath. “Yes, you would be fine with it,” she scorned in a quiet voice she thought he couldn’t hear. “You know, you’re not obligated to be alright with everything in the world. Maybe for once you could complain about a tall staircase, complain about something, instead of just nodding your head and pretending your life’s perfect and turning a blind eye to the things that bother you.”
That stung. Harvest wanted to defend himself, but instead he reasoned, It’s fine, she’s just tired from walking, that’s all. There’s no need to pay attention.
Then he sighed. Lying had never been his strong suit, even though he did it every day.
“I still don’t see how teleporting is supposed to cause a ‘magical disruption,’” Sunshine said louder for Starswirl to hear. “I think Celestia has bigger things to worry about up there than noticing three ponies sneaking up behind her.” When Starswirl didn’t react, she just shook her head. “When this is all over, I can’t wait to tell Celestia about this staircase she’s hopefully never had to endure walking up. I mean, I’ve been counting for a while, and does she realize she has 538 steps for a staircase she just teleports—?“
Stopping dead, Starswirl whirled around. “Say that again,” he ordered.
“Err… Does the princess realize she has 538 steps—“
“That’s impossible,” he interrupted curtly.
“You could let somepony finish a sentence once in a while,” she grumbled.
“There are approximately 240 steps in the Main Solar Spiral, no more and no less. We can’t have been walking that much, unless…”
Leaving Sunshine and Harvest standing utterly clueless, the Grand Mage began scrutinizing the steps, the walls, and the ceiling, until he pointed to a spot just to the side of a chandelier.
“There it is,” he said. “A rune stone is suspended there. And it seems…” He pressed a hoof to the wall, causing it to ripple ever so slightly, “…to be creating an illusion. It’s keeping us looped in space.”
Sunshine literally had to shove her dislocated jaw back in place. “Are you kidding me?!” she screeched. “All this time we thought we were making progress, and we’ve been wasting time walking in circles? How do you know notice something like that? I thought you deactivated all the Princess’ spells!”
“I was… preoccupied,” he admitted quietly, distantly. “That’s all. And this is Celestia’s doing. She has enough raw power to make an illusion ten times as strong. No, rune stones are only used by non-unicorns and very weak magic users.”
“It’s not as bad as you think,” Starswirl added at Sunshine’s grimace. “The spell is weak; it’s designed only to slow us down. We have been making progress, just very gradually, like taking two steps forward and one step back. In fact,” he said, craning his head to see up the spiral, “we’re right by Princess Celestia’s lower chambers. We’re almost at the top.”
“But what if the rune stone does not let us get to the top?” Apple Harvest asked. “Can you disable it?”
“Certainly. It will take some time to unlock and negate it, but once I get it down, I can.” Then turning away, he added, “Oh, and you two just stand there while I handle this.”
That was the last straw for Sunshine. “No,” she retorted, her eyes shrinking into icy slits. “I’m tired, and I’m going to sit down in Celestia’s chambers. Now excuse me, or I’m going to bowl you over, status be damned.”
Not even giving Starswirl a second to protest, she flounced past him, with her curls bouncing as she held her head high like a queen.
Unthinkingly, Harvest already began to follow her, only to be blocked by his unicorn superior. “Where do you think you’re going? I gave you an order, didn’t I? Let her go; she’s just a nuisance.”
Harvest looked up at Sunshine, biting her lip to hold back tears as she looked down with her hooves facing the door. Then, turning back to Starswirl, he blurted out without even thinking, “Oh, leave her alone, ya bleedin’ vermin. If that’s what you think of everypony who wants to help you, then I’ll leave you alone. That’s want you want from everypony, isn’t it?”
Sunshine had already gone in, but Harvest didn’t care as he stormed past the most powerful unicorn in Equestria, gave him one last disgusted glare, and then slammed the door shut, the force vibrating in his bones.
Once the slight ringing in his ears faded, he pressed his back to the wall and slid to the floor. I just insulted the Grand Mage of Equestria, he thought, horrified, staring listlessly with dilated eyes into the darkened room. Oh Faust, after all I worked for, I’m not going to last a minute once Princess Celestia finds out. She’ll fire me, imprison me, because I blew it, I blew it!
No sooner had he predicted his grim future that one by one, the lightning bug-powered lamps flickered on to reveal a strikingly diminutive-looking Sunshine, her head tilted to the side as she examined him with wide, beautiful, searching eyes.
“Are you alright?” she asked, her voice in a whisper but not afraid.
“Me? Oh, yes, I’m fine,” he said, picking himself off the floor with what little composure and dignity he could manage as he pushed those ominous thoughts out of his mind. “Just exhausted from walking so much.”
The mare nodded once before letting her eyes roam aimlessly around what could now be seen as Celestia’s bathroom before settling back on him. “Would you like to sit down?” she asked, awkwardly tapping a space next to her on the bathtub ledge.
“That’d be nice.” He walked over to her, all the while all too acutely aware of the silence echoing after every hoofstep. His eyes darted to the narrow ledge, with alarmingly few inches to separate them. Chickening out, he asked, “Err… you’re probably dehydrated, aren’t you? Do you want some water?”
She nodded once. “Sure,” was the distant reply, her eyes unfocused on the gleaming white tiles beneath her.
For a moment, the only sound was of Apple Harvest rummaging through the cabinets until he emerged triumphant with two clean washing basins. “I couldn’t find any glasses,” he apologized, “but I think these will work too. Here you go.” He held out a basin while giving her a shy, humble little smile.
Sunshine couldn’t help but feel that same smile tug at her own lips. Amazing it was, how much the littlest things counted during times like this. “Thank you,” she said. She turned on the faucet, held the basin underneath, and watched the water stream like tears into the bottom of the bowl. She swung her legs back and forth a bit, trying to work off some nervous energy, but eventually a sigh issued from her lips.
“Look, you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to,” he started as he fixated his gaze on a candle placed conveniently across the room from Sunshine’s face, “but I hear that talking about problems helps, and you’ve hardly said ten words in the last five minutes, so I assume it’s something really big that’s on your mind.”
“It’s nothing really big… which I guess is exactly the point,” Sunshine admitted, still keeping her eyes determinedly on the rising water. “I just can’t help but keep thinking about how much bigger this situation is than me. I don’t even know why I’m here. At first I thought I could help, but I can’t attack her with bags of bits and pretty gems. And I don’t have your strength or Starswirl’s magic, so I’m just dead weight. I mean, I had to lie just to have him even consider taking me, and then it was only because you were going that he agreed. What is that supposed to say about me? Why am I even up here?”
“Simple,” Harvest answered kindly. “You’re her friend, and you want to save her.”
“Yeah, some friend I was,” she scoffed, turning to face him with loose strands of hair obscuring her eyes. “You know, I used to think I was on top of the world. I thought that I had made it in Everfree, that I could go nowhere but up, and that I could manipulate anypony into doing what I wanted because I knew the rules of the game. I even taught the princess the same twisted rules I learned and thought were true, and I actually believed I was doing her a favor!
“But then I realized that life isn’t a game. The night of the Lunar Rebellion, when I was fleeing with the other citizens, was the first time I had ever seen somepony get mortally injured. And it wasn’t just one: they all kept dropping, one after another like raindrops. It was so orderly, like two ponies would come forward, cut off the other’s head, and just be replaced by two more in the blink of an eye. I was certain that there were no other ponies alive after that. And… I could have been one of them. I could have been dead, and I wasn’t. That didn’t take hard work or talent; it was just dumb luck. I was alive, and I had no reason to be.
“That was when I realized how precious life is, and how powerless I am. I just watched all those ponies die, and I couldn’t do anything. And here I am alive, and… I’m blowing it.”
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes before continuing. “I don’t deserve to be this fortunate,” she confessed, the words tumbling out like a waterfall. “Here I am with everything I’ve ever wanted, but when somepony else has nothing, I can’t do anything about it. I can’t tell you how much I wish I could take away Celestia’s pain. I wish I could comfort her with the perfect words, bring Princess Luna back from the moon, or just stay by her side for the eternity she will live. I wish I could take on her suffering, let the greedy and prideful me get what I deserve while sparing her kind heart, but I can’t, and it’s not fair. Anything else I could do would be inadequate, like a drop of water trying to quench a forest fire. I can’t fix her problems, I can’t even relate to them, so what am I supposed to— oh!”
Sunshine pulled the basin away from the faucet as water began running over onto her hoof. Alarmed, she clumsily tilted it back and forth like it was burning on her hooves as she tried and failed to keep the water from sloshing all over the place.
“Here, let me help you,” said Harvest, placing a calming hoof on her shoulder just long enough for her to stay still. Then he quickly put his basin under hers and let the excess water trickle into his. Once it was no longer overflowing, he tipped a little more water into his bowl until hers was at a stable level that wouldn’t spill.
“See?” he asked, showing her the layer of water covering the bottom of his. “It may only be a few drops, but it kept you from overflowing.”
That was her epiphany. Sunshine looked up at Harvest with her eyes wide in understanding, as he perfectly iterated her thoughts.
“Pain is still pain, no matter what form it comes in,” he whispered, leaning down close until his breath tingled on the nape of her neck. “If you have room in your heart, you can take on some of the burden of others. Even if you can’t empathize with it, you can sympathize, no matter how great the pain. And… perhaps the last thing she needs is for you to make it a big deal. Maybe she just needs a break, a chance to let her feelings out or just push them aside for awhile, and you can be that release for her. And yes, there’s a lot of things you can’t do, but the last thing she needs is isolation.”
She blinked once, then twice, then three times, and even when he brushed the strands of her mane from her eyes and pulled away, the gears in her head were still whirling, until she finally met his gaze with the wondrous look of somepony seeing the sun for the first time.
“Thank thee,” she said quietly.
“It was nothing—“ he started to say before Sunshine roughly grabbed him by the foreleg.
“It was something,” she insisted, her gaze burning intensely. “Now say ‘you’re welcome.’”
Harvest smirked. “Thou are welcome. Now drink.”
“I can’t,” she told him with a sad little smile, her fluttering eyes not looking up from the steady ripples in the water. “There’s too much salt.”
Wordlessly, without any hesitation, he offered up his bowl, which Sunshine took gladly. She gave him a shy smile before taking a long, loud, unrefined slurp of water, much to Harvest’s surprise.
“What?” she demanded at the sight of his affronted stare. “We’re in private now, after all. I doubt the chamber pot will be offended by my horrid mannerisms. Besides, thou do it too, I’m certain. Oh, and by the way,” she added conspiratorially, her half-lidded eyes flaring suggestively, “as much as others would like to think differently, my standards aren’t too far above a chamber pot’s either. I could hear what you said to Starswirl. And while it is awfully nice that you try to make everypony happy, I’d personally like to hear you say things like ‘bleedin’ vermin’ more often; the stars know some nobles could benefit.” Then dropping to a more serious tone, “I’d like to see that part of thee, and if you think Celestia or I mind that part of thee, then thou are very much mistaken.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a polite smile.
“I’m serious about this,” she reprimanded. “I know you’re grateful and all that, but being content and happy aren’t the same thing. You shouldn’t… feel ashamed, or afraid, or however you’re justifying quietly staying in the background to not upset anypony. You don’t deserve that. You deserve to be just as happy as anypony else.”
Harvest was about to reply when the two of them froze at the sound of hoofsteps clunking up the stairs.
“That’s not Starswirl,” he breathed, his ears perked up to catch every creak of the floorboards.
“Is it an intruder?” Sunshine whispered. “Or perhaps the ponies outside have all turned into zombies and are bringing about the apocalypse.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he answered in a voice that didn’t carry quite the same confidence of his words. “But… I wouldn’t rule out that first option,” he added hesitantly.
Wrapping his tail around a clay jug, Harvest inched towards the door with Sunshine following close behind and brandishing a curtain rod. She curiously looked up at his calm, stoic eyes trained on the door until it broke when, with a loud battle cry she didn’t know he had, he kicked down the door and began mercilessly assaulting the intruder.
“Ah! Get off me, get off I said!” the figure cried out. “For the love of Elysium, I ain’t doin’ anything to you!”
“As if! I know who you are! You’re Iron Strike, the pony who’s leading a rebellion against the princess! I won’t let you get anywhere near her!”
Sunshine allowed herself a small smile. That’s the Harvest I know.
“What in the stars’ name is going on down here?” barked Starswirl, trotting down the staircase to join the group.
“We have an intruder!” Harvest called out.
“You don’t, you don’t! Just stop it, stop!”
Despite the stallion’s protests, it was Sunshine who made Harvest stop as she looked up and cried, “Philomena!”
All three looked up at the sight of that majestic bird swooping down from on high to settle comfortably on Iron’s shoulder.
“See?” he said, wiping blood from a cut on his cheek. “Now you believe me?”
At ease, do not be afraid, Philomena assured them, her voice ringing through the minds of each pony there. I have seen this pony’s heart, and he bears no ill will towards Celestia.
Ever so slowly, Harvest backed away, still keeping the jug raised. "Why are you here?" he questioned. "You despise the princess; everypony knows that."
“That’s what he does second,” Iron grumbled before saying in a quiet voice that softened as it progressed, "That's what I believed too. I acted out of anger and vengeance, believing that I was administering justice so that she wouldn't have died in vain. But then I realized that I wasn't honoring her memory, not when I was forgetting what was so special about her. She loved Princess Celestia more than she ever loved me; she never would have wanted me to go against her, not without a valid reason. I wanted to help the princess because this... this is the only way I can make her proud."
A second layer of silence permeated the air, weighing on everypony's shoulders. Iron looked down, not knowing what else to do, while the others let his words sink in. "That's all I have to say. I hope you'll take me with you, but if not, I understand."
Slowly, Harvest looked him in the eye and nodded. "It's alright, I believe you," he said, offering up a small peace smile before asking curiously, “So, how did you even get up here? All of Canterlot has fallen under the princess’ spell.”
“After I left the rebellion, I reentered Canterlot. My only plan was to reach the princess, so when those fireballs started raining down, I was dodging them left and right with a speed you wouldn’t even believe—“
They don’t believe it, she said with a hint of amusement. Tell them about me.
“I’m getting there,” he waved the comment aside impatiently. “Sheesh, somebird has an ego. Anyway, I made it about 3 quarters of the way there—“
More like an eighth.
“Same difference, when all of a sudden Philomena swoops down and repels all the fireballs with her magic. Then she tells me that there’s a way I can help save Princess Celestia, and that she’s taking me to the Solar Tower. I figured she was the best lead I had, so I followed after her until we reached the castle. She said there were some ponies already at the top that I needed to catch up to, and that the only way I could was to use… err, what did you call it again?”
A rune stone. It stores magical energy that is channeled through the thoughts and emotions of the owner, similar to the Elements of Harmony, though far weaker. I fastened it to the ceiling and programmed it to trigger a time loop in that area, which would keep you stationary until we were able to catch up. And now that we are here, it is time for it to be deactivated.
“I’ve tried every spell I know to get it loose,” Starswirl said, “but it won’t come free.”
With an almost mischievous twinkle in her eyes, Philomena flew up to the rune stone and flared her wings, which gave off a burst of sunlight that illuminated its ruby red facets. You know what to do, she told Sunshine.
With her keen, perceptive eyes, Sunshine examined the gemstone until she noticed a single spot at the base where the light was not reflected. A magic beam with the fine precision of a laser streamed from her horn, hit her target, and sent the rune stone tumbling down.
Reflexively, Harvest lunged forward and caught it seconds before it hit the ground. Not even looking, he tossed it behind him to Iron, who flattened it with a stomp of his hoof, rendering the magic obsolete.
The whole process had lasted mere seconds, with everypony’s movements so fluidly melting into the others that it looked pre-choreographed. All Starswirl could do was look on in wonder, at least until he felt an object being pressed in his hoof.
Iron offered him a small, knowing smile. “There doesn’t always need to be a powerful magical solution to everything. That’s just the power of teamwork, my friend.”
Starswirl looked down at his hoof where there lay the rune stone, now pressed into a perfect circle. He stared mesmerized into its ruby depths, illuminated by the magic of Philomena’s light. In his trembling hooves, it shone with the humble radiance of a warm hearth bundled into the single flame of a candle.
He kept it cradled in his hooves, never covering it once.
The spell having broken, the walls around the cluster of ponies began to ripple and warp into a much darker scene, though lit by a raging mare of fire. The doors and chamber walls had been obliterated, leaving them completely exposed to Celestia’s blazing wrath. The battered structure rocked precariously, supportive beams groaning from their injuries. Heat seared over the ponies’ bodies, already threatening to suck out all their water and leave dried husks. Explosions rang with the deafening force of bombs as fire rocketed higher and higher into the sky before they detonated and spilled light over the balcony.
Fire shone down on Celestia like a harsh spotlight, even though her candescent mane of violently raging fire and her glowing white-hot skin outdid any light that night. Tying the tip of her horn to the moon was a white strand of magic from which the fire rained down. However, Celestia paid no notice to this as she paced menacingly towards Rose Petal, crumpled in a heap at the rim of the balcony. She bore many yet minor burns on her face, torso, and legs. With a pained cry, she tried to stand, only to have her legs fold and collapse once more.
“There she is,” Harvest breathed in horror. “Starswirl, I assume you came up with a plan?”
Starswirl had come up with many plans and backup plans, yes, all the way to Plan R-39 version 2.1. But all of them flew out the window at the sight of Rose Petal lying defeated on the floor.
I did this to her, he thought as a numbing shock slowly chilled in his veins. I tried not to get involved, but I did, and it’s all my fault, all my fault…
“Starswirl, come back!” Sunshine screamed.
The words echoed through his sluggish mind in a fog, and yet he was more aware of his surroundings than ever before. He felt the sweltering heat wash over him, heard the steady rhythm of his heart matched by the pace of his hooves colliding with the marble floor. Was he running? He blinked and found himself on the opposite end of the room, just a few paces away from Celestia and Rose Petal.
Without even thinking, Starswirl threw himself between them and spread his forelegs wide. “Princess, stop! I won’t let you hurt her!”
“That idiot,” Iron said, half in scorn and half in awe before galloping after him, with Harvest and Sunshine following close behind. They too joined in the cacophony of pleas for reason, but Celestia only attacked them with fire. Starswirl quickly put up a shield, but the raw force sent them tumbling back to slam into the railing.
Starswirl tried to anticipate the next blow, but the light radiating from Celestia’s eyes proved too strong for his own. “Close your eyes, everypony!” he commanded just before another onslaught came.
Meanwhile, Philomena made a beeline straight for the discarded Elements of Harmony behind Celestia. Darting around, she hastily grabbed all six gemstones in her talons and flew over to the ponies. Take an Element, she ordered, dropping them one by one over each pony.
“Ow!” Sunshine complained as the Element of Generosity bonked her on the head.
“Can you stand?” Iron asked Rose Petal, holding a red gem in one hoof and stretching out his other for her to hold on to.
Here, take this, she told the just barely conscious mare as she presented her with the Element of Magic.
“The… the Elements of Harmony?” Harvest asked, cracking his eyelids open just enough to see the bright blue sapphire in his hooves. “We can’t use these; only the Princesses can!”
“Anypony has the ability to possess them,” Starswirl explained while he strained to maintain his forcefield around them, “but the Elements only respond to a chosen few Bearers. Celestia and Luna have broken their connection, so now they answer to us.” There isn’t much time, Philomena warned. Everypony, form a circle.
This proved a much more difficult task with their eyes closed, but after a minute or two of groping around, they fell into formation. Focus, she instructed them as the pink gem in her beak began to glow. Remember why you’re up here, what led you to this place. Whether or not you fully see it yet, every one of you gathered here deeply cares for Celestia. Focus on that, on the reasons why you’ve opened your hearts to her, and let her remember that about herself.
A hum of melodic cadences rose from the charged Elements to counteract the dissonance of explosions. One by one, they felt themselves being lifted off the ground, with Rose Petal raised to the helm. A current of magical energy swirled around her, tingled on her skin, flared to life in her very heart. She could feel the power from the other Elements surge through her own as she raised it over her head. It was like holding back a waterfall with flimsy cardboard, but her willpower kept the energy contained in the gem, letting it fill to the very brim.
I’m so sorry, Celestia. I promise, I’ll never leave you again.
With a loud cry, Rose Petal let the power fly like a bow to slice straight through the white strand of light connecting Celestia to Nightmare Moon. At once, it dispersed from the heavens like smoke, freeing Canterlot from the onslaught of hellfire.
Well, almost.
The wind was knocked out of her lungs as a ball of fire struck Rose straight in the chest and sent her plummeting like a fallen star back onto the balcony. Then, the power of the Elements drained, the other five slowly descended back down to join her, coming face-to-face with Solar Flare once again. The twisted princess cackled madly, just as evil as before.
“We can’t get through to her!” shouted Starswirl, eyes still firmly shut, to the others over the howling wind heralding Celestia’s power. “There’s no other way left! Everypony, get ready to attack!”
~~~
A blink.
Time seemed to stop for Rose Petal as she weakly lifted her head. Dazed, her eyes took in the sight of Starswirl, Sunshine, Harvest, Iron, and even Philomena assuming defensive stances as they prepared for battle, even as they stood with eyes shut in blindness against the sun’s light. Her dizzy head spun, tilting her vision, but even as she blinked back the darkness encroaching on the edges of her eyesight, it remained unchanged, even though her brain was dying to say otherwise. Why were they fighting? It didn’t make sense. Her eyes wide in confusion, she looked up at Celestia with nothing but pity. Why would they fight her?
Can’t they see she’s crying?
A breath.
Pulling up her last vestiges of strength from who knew where, Rose Petal fought to stand once more. Her chest heaved from exertion, but she managed to drag herself forward, one torturous step at a time. She brushed off the scalding heat that flayed her skin and forced herself to dive deeper into the core of the sun in more ways than one. None of her rescuers could see her out of fear of being blinded, even though that meant they already were.
Rose Petal looked up from her hooves to Celestia, who was watching her stumble about like a drunkard. She could literally feel the heat of her gaze linger on her burns and wounds. Her injuries cried out in protest, but they were nothing but background noise to her. She would not let them win. She had to win, or else she would lose everything.
A heartbeat.
For a single second of infinity, Rose Petal and Celestia locked gazes. At once, moisture was sapped from Rose’s eyes, but that didn’t matter. She had no need for tears. She merely stared in wonder at Celestia’s glowing white eyes from which a steady stream of tears poured forth. Of course, her fiery skin evaporated them almost instantaneously, but for the fraction of a moment that they held life, the white light in her eyes fractured in her tears to birth a continuous rainbow woven between her eyelashes. Rose looked on in awe at the continuously dying and living tears being strung together to form immortality.
Then Rose tore away from the sight and looked directly into Celestia’s eyes. Even though her pupils were obscured by whiteness, Rose knew Celestia was looking directly at her.
Come on, Rose chastised herself as her gaze darted around that endless white space. She has to be in her somewhere. With her piercing green eyes, she slowly peeled away at the layers of anger, hurt, and grief to find the rose-colored eyes she recognized, those of benevolence and compassion dancing alongside pain and guilt like lovers. Those feelings couldn’t be pulled apart, not when they were so intrinsically entwined. Rose couldn’t believe she had thought she could separate them.
Unflinchingly, Rose Petal peered straight into her heart where fear resided, fear that nopony else had been able to see because of fear themselves. Well, she wouldn’t allow herself to be afraid, even as she felt the light of her princess start to burn away her irises.
She wanted to cry at the sight of the fear that kept the princess guarded and distant. Nopony deserved that kind of isolation, to have to cry all alone. She would make sure that tears would not be the last thing she saw.
~~~
When Rose Petal was little, her parents always told her never to look directly at the sun, lest it burn her eyes forever. Well, maybe some things could only be seen when she was blind.
Then Rose Petal reached up and hugged Celestia.
Pain like a million needles stabbed her skin at Celestia’s scalding touch. It felt like her flesh had burned away, leaving her an explosion of blood and bone and spirit that would shatter like a dying star learning how to live for the first time. A single drawn-out scream clawed itself free from her throat to mingle with the stars above. And yet she still kept her eyes open, taking in all the fire and light that would carry her to Death’s arms in a cradle. A strange feeling not unlike joy burst forth in her chest like lava until it felt she had disintegrated into a dancing spirit of vibrant warmth. There was no more pain, for this heat was that of a glowing hearth, of a mother’s embrace, of a smiling sun, all intensified times a thousand hearts. She thought of how the universe would die like this, when its time was done and entropy had granted it peace, and she smiled. And at once, Rose Petal thought of all the ponies who wished to die in ice, in emptiness, in darkness, and she let out a whoop of exhilaration. Who would want to die like that!
You wanted to know the truth, Celestia? Rose thought as she clung to her for dear life. Well, here it is: I was wrong. I should have let you remember, and now, I hope you’ll remember me. If you like, remember me for how I used you, for how I went behind your back, for how I was a coward who only wanted an easy way out of the pain. When I did that, I tried to kill a part of who I was, so this is a fitting end for me. I won’t try to deny that. But please, remember that I loved you, and there are other ponies who love you too. Please, come back for them, because if that remains true, then you will never be alone.
Let me break the curse I put on you. Remember everything, both the joy and the sorrow, the hope and despair. This life isn’t worth living without them.
So rest easy now. Let me take on all the pain and suffering like I should have done before but was too weak to do so. I don’t want to see thee cry. There’s no need for tears, not when they're so cold. I want thee to smile with me.
Then Rose Petal felt the fire dim and knew that her job was done. She let her grip slacken and fell to the ground facing the sky. In the distance, she saw a willow tree with stars filling the gaps in between branches, and she smiled.
This is the best memory of my entire life.
“…Is she waking up? She better be waking up, because if not we’ll have an anarchy on our hooves!”
“I think so. Look, I think her left leg moved a bit.”
“What, where? I didn’t see it; I think you need to get your eyesight checked.”
Celestia, can you hear me?
Ever so slowly, the princess cracked open her eyes. Her soft rose-hued eyes filled with compassion once again, she looked up at Sunshine and Harvest sitting on either side of her, and Philomena hovering above her. Their expressions were anxious, relief curbed for the time being. There was concern there, and… fear as well?
Celestia craned her head and saw a smoking ring of ashes surrounding her. In the distance, a few fires still burned. With a weak groan, she raised a hoof to her throbbing temple. “Oh, Faust,” she cried softly, her eyes wide in horror. “Oh Faust, oh Elysium, what have I done?”
The same fear she had awoken to see was now reflected in her own eyes. If she had the strength to run, she would have. Now that she had nothing to lose, exile would be better than whatever torture they would put her through. Closing her eyes, her whole body trembled at the thought of chains and dungeons and iron bars and a pair of forelegs squeezing the air out of her lungs…
“Celestia, thank goodness you’re alright!” Sunshine cried in a hysterical laugh that bordered on wailing as she hugged the princess close. “I was… so scared that thou… wouldn’t… wouldn’t wake up,” she said between violent sobs that washed away the soot from Celestia’s shoulder. “Thou scared me… s-so much!”
“C-Celestia,” Apple Harvest stammered. Her bright eyes widened into oceans when he saw tears silently pouring down his cheeks. He couldn’t bring himself to say anymore than that; his lips just continued to shape her name like a reverent mantra. Even in his distress, not once did he look away. His eyes kept tracing over the contours of her face, as if to forever etch them in his sight.
A shudder of warmth poured into Celestia when Philomena perched on her shoulder and draped her wings like a snug blanket around the back of her head. Her wingtips brushed over her face like the touch of a mother as she searched for any sign of injury. Finding none, she sighed, saying, Thank the stars thou are safe, Celestia. I would scream at thee for so many things at this moment, but my joy is too overpowering. Oh Celestia, my dearest filly, how beautiful it is to see you returned from the flames.
The flames, she thought, the memories all rushing back. The Elements. Luna. Solar Flare. There was a fire in the city. Ponies were trapped in nightmares. I couldn’t stop myself. I was burning up, dying, crying, and then there was…
Her heart stood still.
…Rose Petal.
Panicked, Celestia bolted up from her place on the balcony floor, and ignoring the newly blossomed headache pounding, she searched for her savior. Her eyes locked on two figures leaning against the golden rim, just out of the moonlight’s reach. One was gesturing emphatically, with occasional bursts of magic spurting from the unicorn’s horn, while the other just stood and occasionally responded only with the shake of the head.
The two ponies and one phoenix next to her followed her gaze, and at once, their joy changed to pity. They each exchanged looks before Philomena took off with a slow flap of her wings and glided over to the pair. Celestia waited in absolute silence, not even aware of the quick pace of her heart. No thoughts, none of dread or hope, crossed her mind. She just watched as they processed into the moonlight. First came Philomena, who led Starswirl.
“Celestia,” he breathed, staring as if she were an apparition. “I’m sorry,” he cried as a single tear rolled down his cheek. “So very sorry, in more ways than you can understand right now.”
“Starswirl, what do you mean?”
He only shook his head, too ravaged by inner grief to speak, as he moved out of the way and let Rose Petal step into the light.
It was not the numerous white bandages crisscrossed over her body that made Celestia gasp. It was the eyes. Rose Petal’s once luminescent green eyes were no drained of almost all color, with only a pale and sickly olive tint remaining. Her pupil looked to be carved out a filled with an off-color white to match the rest of her eyes, bleached by the intensity of the sun.
Celestia’s quivering lips tried to frame a question, but Rose Petal answered it herself. “Is she there, Starswirl?” she asked in a hushed voice as she pointed to a spot a few inches above Celestia’s elbow. “How does she look? Is she alright?”
The princess’ stare only grew wider, as if to feebly try to contain the situation’s gravitas, as Starswirl answered in a cracking voice like breaking china, “S-She’s okay, Rose,” he choked out, fighting the tightness of his throat. “I th-think she’d l-like… to talk to thee.”
“Lead me to her,” she whispered in a strong yet gentle voice, holding out her forelegs. Still speechless, Celestia gasped as Rose smothered her in a hug.
“Oh good,” she said gratefully, smiling all the while. “I thought I’d never get the chance to do that again. Celestia, are thou alright? Please, please say something. I would give the world to hear thy voice.”
“Rose,” Celestia wept, “thine… thine eyes…”
“I know, Celestia, I know,” Rose murmured. “I am sorry, but I do not believe they can be restored. Not even Starswirl can.”
“How… how could I have done this to thee?” she cried out violently, ripping herself away. In anguish, she buried her face in her hooves and began screaming, lamenting horribly. “I am a thousand times more wretched than that which possessed my sister! I have hurt one of my only remaining friends! How can thou bear to be near me now? I… Thou cannot see!”
Rose Petal gently took Celestia’s hoof. “Now now, I never said anything about that.”
“How can you say that?” she said woefully, turning away. “Your eyes are blind.”
“Listen to me, Celestia,” she answered, still smiling. “Yes, you’re right. There are some things I won’t be able to see like I used to. I won’t get to see the seasons change, or the stars come out, or your sun rise. But there are things, things perhaps more important than a sunrise can ever be, that I can only see now. I can see how wrong it was to try to erase your memories and mine. Now that I am blind, those memories are all I have left with which to see in the way I used to. I won’t get to see the seasons change, or the stars come out, or your sun rise. But there are things, things perhaps more important than a sunrise can ever be, that I can only see now. I can see how wrong it was to try to erase your memories and mine. Now that I am blind, those memories are all I have left with which to see in the way I used to. I wouldn’t trade that realization for anything.”
“I mean that, Celestia,” she insisted, drawing lifting the princess’ face to meet hers. “This was not your fault. I only brought this upon myself. Functioning eyes are a small price for saving you.”
“Why?” the princess cried almost inaudibly. “What makes me so worth saving?”
Rose Petal smiled. “Did you really think Princess Luna was the only pony who cared for you? Look around you. We were all willing to give up everything for you, otherwise the Elements wouldn’t have worked. Luna may have been the source of your grief, but it only persisted because you let it. You held onto that grief, just like all of us clung to our fears and insecurities that kept us from helping you. The only ones we have to blame are ourselves, so we were the only ones who could save you. But I think all of us got more out of the bargain than we ever thought.”
By now, Celestia’s sobs had died down into quiet sniffles, yet she refused to lift her eyes. “I… I know what it’s like to lose somepony,” Rose continued, “but if this has taught me anything, it’s that you can’t find them in grief, when your eyes are filled with tears and you can’t see anything. You find her in the world, because the world is your memory of Luna, but memories aren’t stagnant. They grow and change just as the world changes, just as you change. Your memory of Luna will grow with you, live on in you. You can remember Luna in everything you see, and that shouldn’t be a cause for sadness. Shouldn’t you be happy that every sight, smell, and sound around you is a little piece of the pony you love? If you can find enough of those pieces to add on, you can keep linking new experiences to her until your whole world is an interconnected mesh of her all around you. But that can’t happen if you don’t look.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper that barely constrained her tears. “Even if we die, you will remember us as part of the mosaic that makes up Luna, and if Luna is your life and soul, then our mortal lives can all be strung together into immortality. We can all be little your pieces of Luna. If only you could let yourself see it.”
“I believe We can help with that.”
At once, an icy gust of wind sprang up and carried with it all the fire of the nightmares. It rose into the sky like a flames shot from a dragon, striking fear into the ponies’ hearts as they watched it fly higher and higher, making its way straight for the tower.
“Duck for cover!” Starswirl shouted, and not a second too soon. Just after Celestia shielded the ponies with her wings, the fire engulfed Philomena and lifted her into the sky.
“Philomena!” Celestia screamed.
“Princess, no!” shouted Harvest, but it was too late. With a running start, Celestia launched herself off the balcony.
Her burnt wings at once gave out, and her broken body began to plummet towards earth, though her eyes were trained on the skies.
It felt like he was falling through water, water that submerged her thoughts. No, she pleaded. She needs me. She can’t survive without me. I need to save her. Please, just let me save her!
The fire grew more distant; the whole world fell away. She was drowning in midnight, in Luna, but she had never felt so far. No, not again. Please, please don’t leave me. I… I don’t want to be alone.
Then she felt a hoof grasp hers.
More hooves joined in until their combined efforts had not only slowed her descent but lifted her upwards. Celestia’s eyes widened as she saw the faces of the Element Bearers – no, her friends – smile as they dragged her torso over the railing. Then with one last heave, she fell toppling over them, knocking everypony over into one big, tangled, messy heap.
Celestia laughed.
At first it was tentative as her muscles adjusted to the feeling, then bordering on hysterical in terror, until it finally settled into a real laugh, pure and genuine. The others joined in as they carefully untangled their limbs from one another. Seeing all those dignified ponies sharing giggles made Celestia feel lighter. She had forgotten how good it was to laugh.
She never wanted to forget.
Applause broke out from down below. Celestia and the others leaned over the rail in wonder as she saw a large group of ponies, the very same rebels of Canterlot who had fought against her, now cheering as she was brought to safety. Her mouth dropped into a dainty O, which was soon replaced by a gentle smile. Out of the corner of her eye, Celestia saw Iron wave to a certain purple mare in the crowd who gave him a soft, abashed smile.
Then she looked up in the sky at Philomena. She watched mesmerized as the fire she had once so feared be absorbed into the pheonix’s wings, setting them ablaze in radiant light. It turned her plumage an even brighter carmine, and it infused her eyes with gold. There was no pain, only glory. Like a beacon, her light cut through the darkness until she was led home to rest on Celestia’s shoulder.
This is what We give to you, resonated two twin voices in her head. Immortality. From this day forth, she will be an everlasting light to you. She will never dim, never waver at your side, and will exist for as long as you. However, her immortality must be renewed, and so she must continuously rise from the ashes of her tomb. She will die a million painful deaths, as numerous as the deaths you will witness with your own eyes as you wait for me for a thousand years. To take it as either a blessing or a curse is your choice.
In the luminescence of Philomena’s light, Celestia looked up into the eyes of the five ponies gathered around her. Aqua, navy, emerald, gold, and olive all swirled into one beautiful mess in her tearful joy, strengthened by the knowledge that they would be joined by a thousand more. She would never be alone, because those colors would always be in her heart.
Celestia smiled as she watched Philomena fly into the sky like a sun at midnight and bring forth a light that Luna would always be able to see.
It will always, always be a blessing.
~~~~~~~
As the vibrant hues of her sun swirled into the inky violets of twilight, Celestia sighed at the recollection. So much time had passed then, and yet it felt like it couldn’t have been a whole three hundred years since that day. How daunting that stretch of eternity had seemed, and now that it had been conquered, it felt… pretty hollow.
Sensing her despair, Philomena flew from her perch to nestle on her mistress’ shoulder. Her beak nudged her gently, a silent prod to speak her mind.
“Oh, it’s not much,” she answered, giving a reassuring smile. “I just feel… I don’t know, lost I suppose. I know I stopped believing that notion a long time ago, and the astronomers have predicted it’s going to be much longer than this. I just… I just can’t stop hanging onto that hope though,” she admitted, looking wistfully out into the empty sky. “I can just imagine her now, coming down from the moon with no vengeance, no anger, just as the little filly who deserved so much more than me for a big sister. I know it won’t come true, but I can’t help hoping for it.”
It is not a weakness to hope, princess.
Celestia smiled at the familiar words. “Yes, yes you’re right as always,” she laughed, nuzzling the phoenix affectionately. There’s always another day, another day for me to rediscover her once again.” With that in mind, she closed her eyes and drew from the wellspring of magic inside the spell that connected her to the heavens. Her consciousness slipped below the edge of the world where the moon rested in wait. No longer tormented, she reached out to the silver face like an old friend, and with a flap of Celestia’s wings, they rose together into the sky.
As she flew over the spires she had memorized so long ago, she kept her eyes closed the whole way, choosing to focus only on the soothing night breeze coursing through her fur. Then with the lightest touch, she landed on the balcony, with Philomena close beside as always.
Then Celestia looked up at the moon.
As always, the image of the Mare in the Moon sent a pang of grief resounding in her heart, but time had dulled the pain, turned sorrow into bittersweetness. She didn’t linger on it too long, but instead let her eyes slide up the image just above the curtains that led to the balcony.
Celestia had never been much of artist, which was the main reason why she put it so high up if she ever would admit it to herself. But even still, she liked to think she would keep it secluded at the top. That way, it could only be seen by those who were looking for it.
It was a simple image, really. Just the outline of the moon with an eye closed in peace within the circle. What made it special were the thousands of piles of mosaic tile along the eyelashes. The tiles were in all different shapes, cuts, and colors, but all were arranged together in a continuous rainbow.
Today, Celestia levitated a bright cherry-hued piece to the mosaic to represent her newest student Sunbeam Shower. She never left spaces for new pieces, but it still managed to fit itself snugly into the edge of the rainbow.
Her heart at peace, Celestia closed her eyes and whispered from the depths of her heart:
Sweet dreams, my sister. May we meet again at the rising of the sun.
