> The White Horse > by Carabas > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > The Noise of Thunder > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- In the quiet darkness of the ruined castle, the white unicorn waited. He looked into the murk of a rubble-cluttered fireplace, alone with his thoughts in what had once been this place's great hall. A heavy golden crown and a curving black bow rested on a table next to a lit candle; the only source of light against the heavy shadows all around. Rain whispered against the roof and outside the shattered windows. Thunder briefly pealed. It promised another stormy night. The latest of many. Some day there'd be quiet skies again, the unicorn thought. Some day. He turned away from the fireplace and towards the table. A pitcher of wine and several chipped cups were laid out, and he poured himself a measured portion. As he drank, he reached out for the crown and settled it down atop his indigo mane. He drained the cup, and as he did so, he saw the shadows around him shift. Sharp green light insinuated itself into the hues of the room, and the air pricked goosebumps from his hide. “Sombra,” said the unicorn, not turning. “I'm glad you could make it.” From the darkness at his back, a voice deeper than ocean trenches and colder than the drowned depths. “The pleasure is mine, Lord – my pardon, Prince Iridium. How could I refuse a meeting such as this?” Iridium stiffened slightly, and turned to face the fireplace again. A paranoid part of his magic itched to grasp his bow, and he suppressed it. No empty threats here. Let the golden crown on his head represent all the authority he needed. He gazed into the darkness, and it smirked back. Vivid, poison-green eyes met his own, topped by a curving crimson horn; both bright against Sombra's black hide. Green and purple motes shrouded his insubstantial and semi-transparent frame. Iridium didn't know what enchantment they represented, but he could all but taste the hungry, gnawing malice of its magic even from where he stood. “The other two have indicated they'll come,” said Iridium, pressing on. “They should arrive soon. Would you like some wine while we wait?” “How kind. But wasted on my current form.” Sombra gestured at his half-ethereal, mote-shrouded body. “No teleportation this, but merely a sending. You understand my caution in these troubled times, I pray.” “Hmm.” Iridium let a hush fall, heavy against the whispering wind and rain. He glanced out the window. Past the serrated edges of glass, a forested landscape threatened by gathering stormclouds ran. They burned red at the horizon in the dying light of dusk, and at that edge, it was possible to make out distant smoke trails. “Pretty, isn't it?” said Sombra, dragging Iridium from a grim line of thought. “Corn Rose or Mercy's work, I shouldn't wonder. Or some smaller warlord's doing. Flitting around the weary Celestial Legions like hornets around dying flesh. What a difference one banishment can make.” This last came contemplative. “It will have to be put to rights if her Legions don't finish the job before the end. I will not rule over rags and tatters. My birthright is higher than that.” Iridium's jaw was set. Sombra smiled. “As you say, O Prince.” At that moment, there came a tremendous crashing on the distant door at the other end of the hall. Old timbers rocked as if being pounded with a heavy hoof. “Ahoy the mouldering ruin!” shouted a mare's voice. “I've got my invite! Let a poor, weary mare in!” “Ah,” said Sombra, “Do I detect an inevitable uptick in the quality of current discourse?” Iridium ignored the remark and reached out with his magic to open the door. It gently swing open, and was then abruptly slammed wide. An earth pony trotted casually through, a large and musclebound red-coated mare. Spurs and bolts of steel jangled from her rough metal and leather barding, and her sharpened shoes jangled upon the stone floor. The visor of her helmet was turned up, revealing bright blue eyes and a brighter smile. “Apologies for the tardiness,” she said as she neared Iridium, sending only a brief glance Sombra's way. “Came with the host across the Everfree's edge just there. Bumped into some villages along the way. Turned they were playing host to some of the Lunar fanatics. Can you believe there's still some left nearly a year after the fact?” “A dying breed, certainly. Can we infer you assisted them in such, Corn Rose?” said Sombra. Corn Rose shrugged. “The troops were bored. I was bored. We assisted them, and they and the villagers assisted us.” She eyed the wine pitcher, and pulled it closer to her with one smooth movement. “Got your invite. Intriguing, is what I called its contents. Parked the troops southaways, and came here myself as requested.” “Good,” said Iridium. “We're all here for a common purpose. There needn't be any unpleasantness.” Corn Rose shrugged and swigged from the pitcher. “Well, we'll see how the night goes before coming to those sorts of hasty conclusions. Who else is coming? Just you, me, and Sombra?” “One more. Mercy shall be joining us this evening,” Sombra broke in smoothly. “Gosh. This must be serious then.” Corn Rose regarded Iridium, and then sent a glance all around the hall. Mischief twinkled in her eyes. “And here I was, already admiring the pair on you for holding this thing here of all places. What would Old Sol say if she knew, do you think?” “Fortunately for us, she has other things on her mind. Most of my forces are pressing on her strongholds in Neighvada and Prance. She'll keep her attention there if she wants to deny me a straight march right up to Canterlot's gates,” said Iridium. “My brother Palladium commands there. He'll give Celestia and her generals a run for their money before I return.” The ruins of the Castle of the Two Sisters sat silent all around them, as if in mute agreement. “Clever,” said Corn Rose approvingly. “Neighvada and Prance, eh? Seems like all Equestria's burning. Not just Equestria, even. I hear that Ovarn and Bovaland are up to their teeth in Corva's hordes under their … what is it now, their Fourth Cormaer? The Capric Empire will be sniffing around at any losers on that front. Seems like the whole world was just waiting to up and combust.” “Hardly 'seems', my dear. We here can reasonably claim some responsibility for it.” Sombra's smile was thin and cold. “Feh,” said Corn Rose, knocking back more wine. “When the world gives you lemons, and all that.” And at that moment, there came another knocking upon the door. No voice announced itself. It didn't have to. Iridium opened the door, and a pale mare entered, a pegasus. Her coat and mane shimmered dully, as if she'd flown through falling ash. Her wings were held close at her sides, her frame was hunched, her steps were small and soft. Mercy, the last of the four, reached the circle of candlelight and regarded the others with eyes the grey of a winter sky. “Prince Iridium. Lady Rose. King Sombra. A pleasure to find you all here.” Her gaze briefly met Iridium's as it swept across the three, and the unicorn suppressed a shiver. Sombra's casual and arrogant malice was understandable, if undesirable. Corn Rose had all the subtlety of a swung hoof from a happy thug. But Mercy's blankness in person matched with the rumours and epithets attached to her just left him cold. No matter. He would work with what he had. “A pleasure to have your company, likewise. Such charming courtesies we share amongst ourselves, we warlords four,” said Sombra. “Shall we swap more, or delve down to brass tacks?” “The latter, I say,” said Corn Rose. “The wine's finished, so my attention needs fixating.” Iridium turned briefly towards the window as he composed his thoughts. The clouds had shifted in the last of the dying light, and where they had parted, scattered and faint stars wandered in the night sky. In one section, half-covered by clouds, the moon shone. Craters across its gleaming surface described the dark shape of an alicorn's head. It had been a novel addition once, barely a year ago. “Then I'll let my thanks for your respective arrivals remain inferred,” said Iridium. “For now, let us agree on what is evident. Equestria is on the brink. The alicorns have failed it. Luna betrayed us, and Celestia was impotent to stop her, her fanatics, or the chaos that reigns yet. A hair's edge stands between Equestria and collapse. Let us provide that final push.” > Hell Followed > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Outside the hall, the clouds closed shut and rain fell down through the night. Inside, candlelight dimmed and guttered as the four spoke. Rotting tapestries and bare metal flagpoles loomed over them. “Let me guess the shape of your proposal, then,” said Sombra. “An alliance between us four, aimed at Celestia?” “Correct.” Iridium glanced at each of the others. “With the bulk of the Lunar Rebellion finally subdued, our princess shall be looking to crush whatever small targets present themselves. Pooling our efforts will let each of us withstand that assault and carry the fight past it.” Corn Rose smirked. “Seems needless, from where I stand. Equestria's a ruin, and so are Celestia's forces. She and her government huddle in Canterlot and shore up its walls while the countryside burns. She can't convince many more of her nobles to empty their vaults for the war effort, and soon she'll have nopony left to draft into the Legions. The battles so far have bled her dry.” “Don't be so sure,” said Mercy, her voice a soft whisper on the edge of hearing. “Her generals remain loyal. Capable. What soldiers she still has are hardened veterans. Her defeat of the Lunites will help consolidate her power. Don't underestimate her.” “There's a hard shell left, certainly, but it's wrapped around a soft interior,” said Corn Rose. “I don't care how many generals and tough soldiers she has left, because you don't ever have to fight her on her terms. You move ahead of them, aim for the settlements, and torch as you go. I should know.” The mare grinned and gave Mercy a hard clap across the withers. “Like you should know. Thorough work you did on Hooveston, by the way. My compliments.” Mercy wobbled slightly with the force of the clap. Her expression didn't change. “Necessary,” she said quietly. “Mercy is right,” said Iridium. “My forces are substantial, but outnumbered regardless by Celestia's combined Legions. I would prefer to see a leveller playing field before circumstance obliges me to engage her head on.” “We lend our strength for your benefit, then?” Sombra's tone came flecked with acid. “I'm not so stupid as to propose that. Let us agree to some fundamentals. We don't attack each other's forces, and leave Celestia and her Equestria as our focus. We assist one another whenever it is passingly feasible or by prior arrangement. The important thing is to bolster ourselves while keeping Celestia on the backhoof. She will find it much harder to fight my armies with her cities burning at her back. Equally, these same cities will find themselves less guarded if her troops have a front to focus on.” There came a collective silence, undercut by the low growl of the storm without. Corn Rose pursed her lips, while Sombra casually studied the world outside the window. Mercy didn't speak or shift her stance, her expression remaining impassive. Iridium studied them all. “It has merit as a proposition,” said Sombra after a while, with a shrug. “Mutual non-agression and a gentlecolt's agreement to consider future negotiations from one another. I'd be content to agree here and now, but I'd see another factor considered.” “Which is?” “When will this accord have had its day? When Celestia lies dead? When whatever structures and regents she will have set up crumble?” Sombra's eyes narrowed. “We shall have to consider the closing time. Because once this accord has served its purpose of keeping each of us alive to this long war's end, we may be at cross-purposes again. Let's not have one of us be so rude as to steal a march on the others in eliminating the last of the competition.” He turned his gaze to Iridium and Corn Rose and Mercy in turn, a measured and hardened quality now infesting it. “Let us be honest with each other. We all want different outcomes from this whole mess, and some of these shall almost certainly be mutually exclusive. Let us be clear on that. What do you want, Prince Iridium?” His gaze alighted on Iridium, taking in the unicorn from hooves to horn. “Did being a mere duke chafe?” “It is the end of days for old Equestria and alicorn rule,” said Iridium calmly. “Before Celestia and Luna, we ruled ourselves through our own monarchs. The blood of Platinum herself still runs deep and fierce in my family. Let us spare ourselves the trash spawned by the earth pony councils or pegasus stratocracies. One strong and united Equestria under one strong prince. If I cannot claim it by right of blood royal alone, then let right of conquest serve as well.” Sombra smirked. “Taken as a yes. Don't be embarrassed. The joy of control, of taking and ruling is one I'm sure we all share here. Do we not?” Corn Rose shrugged. “Not particularly.” “Oh? Then why did you rise, and why do you persist in your fighting?” “Because ...” Corn Rose just looked confused by the question. “Because of the fighting? Because of the plunder and fun? Because … because of the smell of smoke from cities that kept their underbellies too soft. Because of the warmth of the blood that coats my hide after every battle. Because of the stupid villagers that try to run where they haven't learned to evacuate in time, and the way they scream as we gallop them down.” She circled her hoof vaguely, and broke off with a laugh. “Why do fires burn and storms gather? Why not?” Mercy shifted from hoof to hoof, and Corn Rose immediately slammed down another thunderous clap across her withers and drew her in close. “Tartarus, Mercy, help me explain it? You'll know the joys as well.” Mercy looked down and to one side, away from Corn Rose. “No.” “No? What do you mean, no? I saw what was left of Duncirrus after you tore it from the skies. I saw the bodies you left piled up in -” “Too many burnt farms and empty fields,” said Mercy softly. “Too many dead. Too many orphaned and broken foals. Too many hurting. Drums beating under storm after storm and over red field after field, again and again. Nopony can stop it. Or stop it happening again. It all has to end. All of it.” “All of it?” Iridium frowned. “Sow salt,” said Mercy. “Lest more weeds grow.” Iridium prided himself on having nerves as close to steel as brute biology would permit a pony, but even he had to suppress another shiver. There was differing methods in occupation and exploitation, some more pragmatic than others, and then there was … Mercy's approach. If he took a town, resistance would be quelled and the locals subjugated, but not with reckless cruelty or needless butchery. Sombra kept his rule in the breakaway Crystal Empire to himself, though Iridium had heard a few reports of mass enslavement and psychic thralldom. Reasonable enough in these times. Corn Rose left her targets plundered abattoirs, which was all you could expect from her breed. But the cities Mercy left in her wake … well, 'quiet as the grave' was a term the spies assigned to her fanatic host presumably used with good cause. “And what of your own ends, Sombra?” said Iridium, breaking in to keep the discussion on a proper course, as the bewildered Corn Rose seemed ready to argue. “Mine? Oh, for now, all I wish is to keep the Crystal Empire in my grasp.” The sickly green wisps of magic leaking from the edge of the unicorn's eyes brightened as his face creased in a smile. “I imagine it'll sustain me for long years to come.” “You just want an independent kingdom of your own?” “No. I just want the ponies in that kingdom.” Sombra waved his hoof, and on the floor before him, a flickering image of mixed green and red flames took form. Circles of tiny, trudging figures were connected to a centre by flickering red lengths. They grew smaller and fainter, and the fires coursing around the lengths flared as the black heart broiled. “They are all within my grasp now,” said Sombra as the little figures vanished one by one. “They are mine, body and soul, blank canvas for my will. They wither on the vine, and my power waxes. I can already do much after only a few months of work. Once the process is finished … I think I shall be able to do very nearly anything.” Iridium breathed out and briefly closed his eyes. If that was a short-term effect … then there was nothing he could do about it, he could scarcely turn his stretched forces towards the Crystal Empire's frontier with Equestria's Legions at his back. He'd hope the full consequences would take some time to reveal themselves and prepare to march north as soon as Celestia was dead. “That sounds like it presents no great peril to any of our plans,” he said aloud. “I see no reason why we can't all have what we want and find a suitable settlement after the war is won and Equestria acclaims me as Prince. For my part, I would be happy to support the Crystal Empire's sovereignty and independence under your rule. Corn Rose, Mercy, if you were open to shifting your endeavours eastwards and out of Equestria after the war, then I see no reason why I couldn't sponsor your efforts. Supplies of armaments and wealth from home could keep you fighting for as long as you drew breath.” “A blatant bribe-and-go-lose-yourself, is it?” said Corn Rose. She grinned. “I'd be game. The Kingdom of Asinia's been sitting pretty and peaceful this last long while. Doubt it'll be expecting my attentions once matters settle.” Sombra's own smile held daggers. “A fair offer in exchange for my support. Mutual collaboration followed by non-interference.” Only Mercy remained expressionless. Her gaze fell towards the floor. “The eastern realms suffer as much as us. But … as devil's advocate, peace talks might be possible now for some.” “Peace talks? With whom, and what for?” Iridium frowned. “Between us and Celestia. She'll be weary as well, for all her strength. She might be open to concessions.” She looked up to each of them, her grey eyes sharp. “You, Iridium, might be permitted to secede with much of your conquests. For the sake of peace alone. Independence also for the Crystal Empire, if its citizens are returned to Celestia. For myself and Corn Rose ...” She faltered. “Likely no settlement. We have wrought too much, for purposes she will abhor.” “Then to Tartarus with peace,” sneered Corn Rose. “If Celestia's not going to surrender to me, then she can keep on trying to get me. She can follow me by my usual trail.” “Likewise,” said Sombra. “Why would I release the Crystal Ponies? They are the point. Will she give me some other equal population? I very much doubt it.” “All Equestria is the prize,” said Iridium. “Equestria, and beyond in due time. By right and by conquest, without relenting or quarter. I do not accept half-measures.” Mercy looked back down at the floor. “Devil's advocate,” she whispered, something hollow about her voice, something missing that had been there before. “An unneeded distraction. Let us turn our thoughts towards practicalities,” said Iridium, turning back to Corn Rose and Sombra. “My troops in the field threaten Prance and Neighvada, and if successful there, stand to threaten Canterlot itself if a siege can be quickly invested. Where do your own forces stand?” “Mine are nearer, but Canterlot would be a tough nut to crack. The walls have been built and built up again, and it's garrisoned by nigh-on half a Legion's worth. Outnumbering me, certainly,” said Corn Rose. “Good rewards therein, true. But tremendous risks as well.” “March to reinforce his armies, then,” said Sombra. “You would have to be quick, but falling upon her army's northern flank in unison with a wholesale assault from Iridium could give you both that clear path to and strength to overcome Canterlot.” “Agreed. Do you have forces from the Crystal Empire to lend?” said Iridium. “None that aren't currently serving other, more vital roles. But a storm … a wyld storm, appropriately crafted and launched, could wreak havoc when it lands and compel Legion troops to be diverted to contain the damage. Three days would be all it would take, and if that were to be combined with your own advance -” There was a whisper of blue at Iridum's side, and he turned to see a scroll unfolding from out of flecks of sapphire-blue fire. He raised a hood apologetically to Sombra, said, “A worthy proposal, if well-timed. My pardon for a moment,” and turned his attention to the scroll. “Where did that come from?” said Corn Rose. “I opened negotiations with the Fire Queen before I went to war,” said Iridium, unrolling the scroll as he tore off the ribbon containing it. “Her intent is not fixed, but one of her ensorcelled servants was sent to demonstrate good faith. His draconic fire allows messages to be sent, as Palladium's just done. I assume it's for a good reason. One moment.” He looked down at the scroll, away from the looks of Sombra and Corn Rose and Mercy, and picked his way through his younger brother's execrable hoofwriting. Dear Irid, Advance stalled at the west bank of the Maresissippi. Sol's sent General De Gendarme's Legion to stall our advance, and he's fortified the crossings and destroyed every bridge he can get his hooves on. Tried a sally, achieved little but turning the waters a little redder. Debating whether to force a path at the risk of high casualties, or to spend time on preparing boats for an amphibious attack. Winter's drawing in here and supplies are low, and each day's starting to count. Would appreciate your sage-like elder brotherly counsel on the matter. Outgallopers reported a strange finding also – they found Mercy and her lot slaughtered in one of the mountain passes, a few days old. Sol's forces must have caught a lucky break and ambushed them. Thought the sun was shining a little brighter this last week for some reason. Now know why. Hope she wasn't too vital in your grand schemes. Really. Mare was a damned lunatic. Come back soon. It's strange, not having the ugliest stallion in Equestria around and barking orders at ponies. Lends a homely atmosphere. Your Handsome Co-Prince Palladium Iridium released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding since the second paragraph. Corn Rose regarded him with a bored expression, while Mercy just looked on blankly. “Bad news?” said Sombra. Iridium hovered the open scroll over before Sombra's snout. At the same time, as discreetly as he could, he reached for his bow and closed his magical grasp around it. Sombra read. His expression flickered briefly, but held still. His whole frame remained casual, but some calculating light crept into his eyes. “Intriguing news, certainly,” he remarked. Iridium hovered the scroll over towards Corn Rose, who read it much more slowly and muttered some of the longer phrases. She then froze, and turned to Iridium and nodded. “What is it?” said Mercy, when the scroll wasn't immediately passed over. Her gaze flitted from the scroll, to the nigh-imperceptible magical energies holding Iridium's bow, to the new tenseness in Corn Rose's stance. By way of response, Iridium raised the bow and bent the string back in one smooth movement. Runes along its length glowed faintly, and the ghost-form of an arrow took shape. With a cry, he loosed the arrow straight at Mercy's throat. There was a hiss, a grey blur in the air, and the arrow spun helplessly across the room while Mercy alighted several metres back in an instant. A thin cut across her right leg, and nothing more. Her gaze was straight and cold, her posture poised. “Reveal yourself,” said Iridium. “Reveal your own cursed self!” Mercy regarded him, and then with one shrug, her form fell away. Her wings grew, and grew, and grew, along with her legs and torso. Ash fell from her mane and tail, and pink suffused with the colours of the dawn flourished into the darkness of the hall. A horn extended from her head, above her gleaming magenta eyes. Celestia unadorned stared down the three. Bright gold magic flared around her horn, and one of the rusty flag poles at the room's side was snapped clean away to hover at her side. “What now?” she murmured. Her voice was as soft as a feather's descent. From his earliest foalhood, Iridium couldn't remember it being anything other than soft, gentle, uplifting. “Now?” Corn Rose strutted forwards with a wide smile. “Now you've put yourself in hoof's reach of us and revealed yourself. And now you die screaming.” “Tartarus,” hissed Iridium, striving to hear his own voice over his pounding heartbeat. “Tartarus, Tartarus, Tartarus take it.” “I give you all one chance. More than any of you gave any of those caught in your conquests, more than I should give.” The metal pole trembled, and Celestia's voice cracked into hardness. For an instant, and no more. “Surrender. While you have that chance.” “You know,” said Corn Rose, circling to Celestia's left, the metal pole's tip tracking her all the while, “I've never killed an alicorn yet. Not one. Sombra froze away your pretty little Cadance in the ice before me and the troops could visit her. Looks like that delayed gratification nonsense is working in my favour.” Sombra spoke then, the casualness of his voice a shade too affected. “I believe this is where I must take my leave. Farewell, Duke Iridium, Lady Rose. May our next meeting be delayed for a decent while.” “What? No! Stay! Come here in full form and fight, skyfire take you -” Iridium screamed at Sombra. The unicorn's form was already dissipating, his wary gaze on Celestia until the very last moment. In that moment, he turned to Iridium and gave one sympathetic smile. Then he was gone, and Iridium cursed as he turned back to Celestia. He fumbled with his bow again, drawing the string back and letting another arrow materialise into place. Corn Rose charged with an ululating battle-cry, lunging straight at Celestia with the wicked spurs on her metal shoes raised and ready. The metal pole struck out and was knocked aside in the space of an eye's blink, and Corn Rose crashed down upon Celestia. Two sets of cries filled the air, and then Celestia was gone in a flash of golden light. Corn Rose fell to the ground and quickly rose to her hooves. She looked around for Celestia, and then looked up. The alicorn flew above her, and the metal pole descended. Corn Rose reared on her hind legs to bat the tip away as it flew down. She struck it aside, and the pole's whole body circled in the air. Iridium let off his shot, and as it neared, it burned briefly and fell apart into flakes that pattered off Celestia's hide. No chance. They had no chance. This was it. The pole resumed its rise, and cracked up across Corn Rose's head, knocking her helmet free and sending her staggering back. She still swayed on her hind legs, her unarmoured belly an open target. Another swift circle, and the other end of the pole slammed right through Corn Rose, striking out through the other side of her armoured back in an eruption of metal fragments and crimson spray. Corn Rose staggered, blinked, and then slumped, her mouth opening and closing as blood began to drip from its edges. “B – burned your precious towns,” she whispered. “C – came for your precious ponies with lance and spur and bloodied hoof, burning and k-” Celestia's eyes glowed golden, and the pole blazed incandescent. From Corn Rose, before the light consumed the world, there was a cut-off scream. And as the light cleared, there was a smear of molten metal across the ground, thin ash already being carried off by the smallest of breezes, and Celestia, breathing heavily and bleeding from multiple small cuts. She turned, and fixed her gaze upon Iridium. Iridium let off an arrow as Celestia began to stride forward. It struck off some unseen shield and fell to pieces in the air. Another, and it too fell into ash. Another, and it stood no chance. It and his bow were simply torn from his grasp and ripped into splinters mid-air. He hastily stepped backwards, and the crown tipped from his head and landed with a clatter on the ground. One last chance, and he scrabbled for the candle with his magic and threw it at her. It fell apart, and the light vanished. Only the faint glow of Celestia's magic. Only her eyes, stark in the darkness, all there was to see the world by. “You think you've won?” yelled Iridium. “My army still fights! Palladium still fights! He'll march with your general's head all the way to the gates of Canterlot, and Platinum's heirs shall reign regardless!” “Half of General De Gendarme's army commands the river,” came the voice of Celestia. Iridium had never heard anything so hard, so cold. “The rest march to encircle your brother under De Gendarme's direct command, to cut off your army's supply lines. In a few days, they'll run out of provisions. In a week, they'll be eating each other if they don't surrender first.” Fire seared from the tip of her horn, illuminating her face. Haggard, with new lines etched. Her eyes, cold and wet and red. “Your head will help them make up their minds.” “If you think that'll help Equestria, then you -” “Equestria screams for the end of the pain,” continued Celestia. “The wars are finished. The chaos is finished. The butchery is finished. It will once more know the peace and stillness that harmony gave. Without you, and without the others. I stand at the last, and I reign alone. Alone. In peace.” Iridum felt magic hold him tight, saw the magic brighten and sharpen to a razor's gleam, saw Celestia's face and voice crack. Magenta eyes met his own, and she whispered, “Peace at last.” And the magic fell, and Iridium's world ended.