Per Ardua, Ad Astra

by Penalt


Mourning

Twilight was re-reading one of Starswirl’s journals for the umpteenth time, when the light changed. She had spent the day out with her friends and all was well in the world. The evening meal had been one of Spike’s better experiments with stuffed eggplant and it was a calm winter night in Ponyville. So, there had been no warning at all, when the light from the full moon overhead changed to a sullen red.

“Twilight!” shouted Spike, a minute later as he charged into the room. “Do you see it? Do you see what’s happened to the moon?”

“I see it, Spike,” answered Twilight. “I just have no idea what it means.” The full, red moon sat in the sky, and as the pair looked out at it from their window, a series of shooting stars flashed into being. Seemingly emanating from the moon and descending toward Equestria.

“Twilight,” said Spike, after a few moments, “does it look to you like the moon is...”

“Crying,” finished Twilight. “Yes, it does. I have a bad feeling about this, Spike. Take a message for Princess Celestia.”

“Urp,” said Spike, as a belch of dragonfire ate whatever reply he was going to make. A scroll bearing Celestia’s seal materialized out of the dragonfire.

Dear Twilight,

Luna is in great distress of some sort. I have tried to talk to her but she will let no one into her chambers. When the moon changed, I threatened to break down the door. She still won’t let me in but she has said she will allow you to enter. Please come to the castle, immediately. I, we, need you.

Princess Celestia.

As Twilight finished reading the message she turned to Spike. “I have to teleport to Canterlot, right away,” she said to her assistant. “Keep an eye on things here and let anypony who comes by know where I’ve gone, and that I’m helping Celestia with the problem.”

“Teleport? Twilight, you hate long distance teleports,” said Spike.

“I know, Spike,” Twilight said. “But Celestia said, ‘immediately’, and considering the moon, I think she needs me that fast.”

“All right, Twilight,” said Spike. “If anything comes up I’ll send you a letter. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Spike,” said Twilight. Then, the Princess of Friendship gathered her magic and her concentration, and made the long teleport to Canterlot Castle. A heartbeat later, Twilight Sparkle materialized at her destination, and found herself looking directly into the eyes of her mentor, Princess Celestia.

“Come with me, Twilight,” said Celestia, obviously not wanting to waste any time. “I will explain the situation as best I can." Celestia began to walk in the direction of where the private apartments in the castle were located. Twilight quickly caught up and began walking alongside her former teacher.

“Luna has been working on her long distance scrying recently,” said Celestia. “She was using the moon as a focus, when suddenly she let out a cry of anguish heard by the entire castle. By the time I got to her rooms she had already barricaded them.”

“Do we know why?” Twilight asked.

“No,” answered Celestia. “Then the moon changed, and I threatened to smash my way in. She said through the door that she would explain things only to you. She said you would understand.” A minute later the pair reached the door to the private rooms of the Princess of the Night.

“Any change?” Celestia asked a pair of Lunar Guards out front.

“No, Ma’am,” said one of the guards. “There’s an occasional burst of crying, but that all. Um, can you help her, Ma’am?”

“I will do my best,” said Celestia, then in a louder voice called out. “Luna! It’s me. I have Twilight with me.”

“Send her in, sister,” said Luna, from within the room. “Twilight, please come in.”

Twilight went to the door, opening it with surprising ease and she entered the darkened rooms of the Princess of the Night. The moment Twilight stepped past the threshold, however, the door slammed shut and Luna’s dark blue magic rebuilt itself in a rampart across the entrance. Twilight was sealed in the room, save a full assault by Celestia.

“Approach, dear Twilight, and be at ease,” said Luna, who lay on the floor in the middle of the room. The room was dimly lit by the blood red light from the moon and the golden glow of a single candle. As Twilight walked slowly near Luna, Twilight could see that the candle sat in a holder meant for seven. “Please Twilight, sit with me, and I shall explain the source of my great melancholy.”

“What’s wrong, Luna?” asked Twilight as she lay down in front of Luna. The alicorn’s face was soaked with shed tears, the candle in its holder sat between them.

“In my scrying I ran across a people so great and a tragedy so sad,” said Luna, “that I had no choice but to mourn with them. For their fallen, who died in the pursuit of knowledge.” Twilight looked on in understanding. The death of any pony was a tragedy, but the death of a pony trying to increase the boundaries of what ponies knew, was doubly so.

“Tell me, Princess,” said Twilight. “What happened?”

“Imagine a race of ponies,” began Luna. “A world, of nothing but Earth ponies. No magic, no flight. But they have birds, they have a moon. Calling to them, beckoning them, to the skies.” Twilight nodded.

“I was able to scry through their moon,” said Luna. “I saw their history. From their earliest days, their greatest dream, their greatest desire. Has been to fly. From the first days of their writing I found their words, ‘Ad Astra.’ ‘To the stars’ it means. Think of it Twilight, no magic, no flight, yet they dreamed of it. No ruler like myself or my sister, no one to guide them across the endless centuries. Just the dream. Year after year, generation after generation, century after century. One step after another, learning how things worked, learning materials, learning new ways to think, learning new ways to be. And always, that driving dream. ‘Ad Astra.’”

“How long did this go on?” asked Twilight in wonderment at the determination of such a group of ponies.

“It took them roughly seventeen hundred years to invent a balloon that wouldn’t crash back to the ground,” said Luna, who then continued. “But a balloon wasn’t enough. A balloon won’t cut through the air like a bird. A balloon won’t fly to the moon. So, they pushed on, and as they pushed, ponies died. Their balloons burst and fell, or they caught fire, or any of a dozen things. They died, their friends and companions mourned, and then they pressed on. Eventually, they learned how to make wings that could hold them in the air and learned how to glide. More of them died, but it only drove those that followed all the harder. For the moon, my moon, called to them.”

“It wasn’t your moon, Luna,” interrupted Twilight. “It was their moon, not Equestria’s moon.”

“I am the Princess of the Night, the Lunar Alicorn,” said Luna. “In that sense, all moons that look down on intelligent ponies are mine. May I continue the story?”

“Sorry, Princess,” said Twilight. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you,” said Luna, gravely. “So, they pushed onwards. They learned to power their wings and cut through the air. They flew like birds, and they rejoiced, for part of the dream had been fulfilled. But the moon still called to them and they strove to answer that call. Over the centuries, disagreements had divided them into different nations. Two of the greatest of those nations became rivals to answer the call first. One of those nations had a much loved leader. In a speech he told his fellow ponies ‘we will go to the moon and do these other things. Not because they are easy, but because they are hard.’ But a little over a year later, that leader lay dead. Foully slain by an assassin, from behind.”

“No!” cried out Twilight. “Was there a war? Did they fight their rival?”

“No,” said Luna. “But it was a near thing. Instead, the nation of that leader took his words as a rallying cry. They made his dream, their own, and as a single people they focused all their power and wealth and knowledge onto that single goal. And they did it. They forged wings of fire and steel, of hopes and dreams, and they did it. They reached the moon.”

Twilight was now openly weeping herself. That such a race of ponies, so disadvantaged, had fought and struggled for so long, and had finally reached their goal. She wept with joy for their triumph, after so many years and so many sacrifices.

“But why are you so sad, Luna?” asked Twilight, blinking away her tears. “They made it, after all they did and sacrificed, after all those years. Why are you sad?”

“I mourn over something that happened years later,” answered Luna. “After those ponies succeeded in their dream, there was great rejoicing. But then they relaxed, they kept learning but with the dream done, they stopped trying as hard. Then, they decided that wanted to have a place, between their world and the moon, where they could live and learn how to go to the stars. They realized that such would not take one journey, as they had to the moon, but many. So, to that end, their thinkers forged again the wings of fire and steel, only into something like an apple cart, that could make many journeys, up and down. And journey they did, until the journey began to be a commonplace thing. But they forgot something.”

“What did they forget?” asked Twilight, in a hushed tone.

“They forgot that that while fire can warm,’ said Luna, as five more candles came into being in the candle holder. “It can also burn. Which is what happened. One day, as they rose on those wings of fire and steel, the fire, it went wild. It destroyed their wings and those ponies; oh Twilight, those brave, brave ponies. They fell and broke like eggs, so far below. Those seven brave ponies who challenged the frontiers for their people. They fell, on this day, years ago. That is why I mourn today. That is why tonight, in their honour, the moon cries.”

“Luna, you said there were seven ponies,” said Twilight, as Luna nodded in response. “But you only have six candles.”

“That is why I am here,” said an unknown voice from the shadows.

“Who?” asked Twilight. Even as Cherilee struck a match and lit a candle, illuminating her face.

“Luna brought me here earlier,” said Cherilee as she placed her candle in the holder, “because the seventh pony was a teacher. She brought me here, so I could honour a fellow teacher. And you missed something, Princess.”

“What did I miss?” Princess Luna asked.

“I saw the saying those ponies made in their early days, when you showed me their history, and you missed part of it,” said the teacher. “The phrase isn’t ‘Ad Astra.’ The phrase is ‘Per Ardua, Ad Astra.’ The full meaning, my Princess, is, ‘Through struggle, to the stars.’ “

“Thank you, Cheerilee,” said Luna. “for teaching me that. And that Twilight, is why you are with me. Cheerilee for the teacher, you for the wise ponies and myself for the dream that they still strive towards. Per Ardua, Ad Astra.” And sitting, the three ponies watched through the night, and contemplated what, from dreams may come.