//------------------------------//
// Divided Sisters 
// Story: Tear the Sky Asunder 
// by Ice Star 
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The sisters seraphim
gods of forgotten birthrights
from the broken paradise of the Old World

Two little fillies that stumbled
into the cruel maw of a society
that wanted only to 
tear
them
apart

The vicious villain of a world
a twisted perversion of all that should be
ensnared the one as soon as she was marked
with the regal sun
and crippled the other
so she could not stray 
and would behold machinations she could do nothing to change
in the tragic duality 
she found they had entered
where there was no home, no kin, no answers,
and only a halted quest
in a land where these long-lost mortals
not as precious as the elder wished
moved the sun and moon until they perished,
drained on the ground
less than dirt
called to this duty by numbers and chance
so their everyday deaths might be a raffle
to keep a world they had fought against and never seen
in the imperfect and crippled balance
they could barely maintain

Untrained and feral gods
or goddesses, if you must
that were in some ways so painfully naive
despite their two millennia spent, together
to all that they saw and those who wanted to rule a world
that was but a valley with nothing but a mass grave

Ponies, lost and misguided, claimed the elder
while the younger stared warily, suspecting something
in every glance
said ponies marveled at such powerful creatures
that were not as they were,
how utterly different
and to them this was a crime


They were lost gods
Now they were found monsters


The eldest was beautiful
She was the one who shone like fire,
burning brightly and talking and laughing with
her courtly mask
Praise fluttered about her like the bright dresses she wore
She was the wizard's prize
her and her shadow
She made him famous more than the beard ever could
She garnered fame of her own as well
the noble monster
but soon even monster was dropped
when describing the young mare
who did everything they did
and spoke as they did
and donned their chains of normalcy
with the brightest of smiles

She wanted to be just like the court
noble and beautiful and loved
admired
worshiped

She spoke nothing outrageous
and sometimes
nothing true
They loved her
for both
and nothing

She loved their attention
like a drunk loved ale
and so she gave them her time
as if there was anything left for them to take

Celestia loved fame too much to realize that she
the Unicorn Court's beloved outcast 
and 
monster turned civilized gentlemare 
whose eyes were always resting upon the crown 
was drowning.

Luna was her shadow, small and
silent
Or maybe she was like the snow to fall from the sky, only to merge with ash in its fall
small and free
lost in the storm
delicate and pure, 
as the lost voice of a sister might add
fragile, she would have explained for
Celestia had certainly thought so
Luna had been her world
before she had been abandoned for another
one with no wonder
no dreams 
no knowledge
and absolutely nothing to hope for

Luna, the outcast whose intelligence and honesty marked her as an outsider
Luna, the pariah who spoke her mind
when she bothered to speak at all
Luna, the suddenly forsaken, dared to tell her sister there was nothing to save here
Luna, the monster, who was called out for her small rebellions


Luna who saw no hope
but so much of what
could have been
who could only
add up
wish
after 
wish
and fight
for herself
now that her sister was
gone
and there was
No future



These are the sisters
as blinding as the sun
and as lingering and waning as the moon
that each of them bears



Divided by all that is between them
The elder rots in limelight
(the glare hides her crumbling)
the youngest is saved by isolation
(for she can see through the shadows, with her eyes flashing)
that she chooses so willingly
eyes wide to watch
the ruins of everything
around her
whether it be
ponykind, which she would gladly abandon
or the broken sisterhood
that shattered when she blinked

While corruption 
festers all around them
and more is forgotten by these 
mere mortal ponies
every day
as the rift only grows
A single sound rings out
the dreadful peals of sophisticated laughter
from the silk-clad sun goddess
when the loudest cry
is from the one who never speaks

An unassuming jar
in the shadow of a jeweled vase
as empty as those magenta eyes have become
Yet there's only hope inside
and to set it free
is to let it go