//------------------------------// // 11: Forgiveness, by cleverpun (Luna) // Story: Break Away: The Alicorn Amulet Collaboration // by cleverpun //------------------------------// Luna closed her eyes and rested her hoof upon the Amulet. The air shifted, the pressure and humidity vibrated ever so softly. They had warned her the transition would be impossible to detect. Only the most capable magician possessed the power to make teleportation seamless, to mask the change of location, mental or physical. Yet the transition happened, subtly but clearly. Luna opened her eyes. The room looked mostly the same. The guards had vanished. The pedestal containing the Amulet had disappeared. Celestia stood there, on the other side of the room. Celestia in appearance and nothing else. Even a pony with less experience and less sensitivity to magic would feel and see and sense the differences in the doppelganger. It’s magic felt askew, its eyes glinted slightly red. “Is this the best you can do? An obvious facsimile of my sister?” The Amulet said nothing. It wore that serene smile that Celestia always did. Warmth and comforting empathy, neutrality, political sensitivity, all wrapped in a single, subtle expression. “Make your offer then,” she barked. “Try and tempt me, as you have so many others.” The fake Celestia chuckled. “But Luna, dear, you already took the offer.” Luna’s ears flattened. “Don’t try and deceive me, monster. I have accepted no offer from you.” Celestia chuckled again. It sounded just like the real Celestia, light and musical, absent of malice. It even had the same layer of unintended condescension. “Not from me, my little pony.” Celestia gestured with her chin, pointing at Luna. A thin, sharp crack echoed around the room, and it mixed with a few pings and chinks. Luna turned around. A shard of mirror had embedded itself into the floor. Cracks and dents spiderwebbed across the tile where it had landed. It towered over Luna, almost touched the ceiling. Nightmare Moon stared back at her from the mirror. Luna started, and the reflection copied her movements. She stared down at her hooves. Her coat had turned black. “A cheap parlor trick, and nothing more.” “I mean, what could I offer you? You already succumbed to temptation, and I had nothing to do with it.” “Change me back!” Luna turned away from the mirror, forced her eyes away from her hooves. “There’s nothing to change. That’s who you are.” Celestia smiled. The doppelganger showed so many flaws and tells, but the smile looked just like Celestia’s. “We are all the summation of our actions. All the times we fell to temptation, all our sins and failures.” Another shard of mirror, smaller than the first one, descended from the ceiling. It pierced the ground, just like the first one had. It sat at the edge of Luna’s vision, showed her Nightmare Moon with gritted teeth. “Shut up!” Luna stepped to the side, but the reflection still clawed at the edge of her vision. “What would you know of sin and failure?” The facsimile of Celestia shook its head. “It was not an insult. It is like I said. We are the summation of our decisions, the good and the bad. Didn’t succumbing to temptation, becoming Nightmare Moon… Surely it taught you something?” Luna chuckled. It came out in Nightmare Moon’s voice, deeper and more sinister than she had intended. “Is that your angle, then? To dress up your temptations as something positive? To lower my guard before tempting me with something?” Celestia shook her head. Her mane flowed awkwardly during the motion. It lacked the proper shift and shimmer and motion of Celestia’s mane. Perhaps it’s losing the power to maintain its illusions, Luna thought to herself. “I cannot tempt you with anything. You fell once, and so there is nothing left for you to learn from another.” “Then why talk to me at all?” “I had hoped to explain myself, to give a small justification for my behavior.” “And none of your previous victims were worthy of this explanation?” “None of them would understand. None of them have the same experience that you do.” “Of the positive effects of temptation?” “Yes.” Luna rolled her eyes. She cringed as the motion brought her gaze upon the mirror again. “It sounds to me like the desperate pleas of an enemy, who knows their defeat is at hand.” “Perhaps. But my power wanes the more I talk to you, the longer I maintain this illusion.” Celestia gestured at the room. A patch of wall flickered and shuddered, like a piece of old film reel. “So what harm is there in listening?” Luna glared at the fake Celestia. It still stood in the same position, still wore that same serene and understanding smile that Celestia always wore. Its mane had started to wilt, the red of its eyes had dimmed. It had a point, underneath its transparent machinations. To walk into a trap never ended well. And often, the most dangerous sorts of traps made themselves obvious. They lowered one's guard, made it seem safe to spring them and walk out unscathed. “Fine. Tell me your sob story, then,” Luna muttered. “I was created a long time ago. My creator gave me a simple mission. They wanted me to help ponies grow and learn, to teach them lessons. And they—” “And let me guess…” Luna paused longer than she intended. Just as she had forgotten about it, Nightmare Moon’s voice surprised her again. “They had some unorthodox ideas about how ponies should better themselves.” “Oh, quite the contrary. Their intended methods were very tame.” Celestia chuckled, but it sounded slightly off. The disarming quality of Celestia’s laugh had fallen away. “My initial missions, my initial illusions and revelations were quite bland.” Celestia’s eyes widened, ever so slightly. “But I noticed something. No doubt unintended. Every time I helped a pony, every time I showed them some inane fragment of their childhood or a memory of their spouse or whatever else…” Celestia lifted up a hoof, and an unfinished red gem sat in it. “A little fragment of their magic would stay with me. Each one made me stronger, smarter.” The gem shifted slightly. “It took a lot of ponies, a lot of pointless interactions.” The gem shifted again, and again. A fleck of metal swirled onto it, as if a magnet had drawn it over and refused to let go. “But bit by bit, those parts built up into something.” The gem grew again as more metal latched onto it. “Of course, my creator hesitated, at first. They couldn’t fathom their creation growing beyond its parameters.” The gem straightened into a square cut. “But I talked to them. I showed them all the good I might do, that we might do.” The metal shifted, matched the square of the gemstone. “And how do I know that any of that is true?” Luna muttered. Sometimes the most dangerous traps took the form of words. Words had a habit of burrowing and stabbing where mere objects could never reach. “I suppose you don’t.” Celestia shook her hoof, and the chunk of metal and rock vanished. “But my results should speak for themselves. It only makes sense. What good can temptation do, without something to be tempted by?” “Don’t give me that. Don’t try and disguise your actions as a noble endeavor,” Luna said. “What of all the ponies who gave in to your temptations, and suffered no consequences? Who ran rampant with your power? What lessons did they learn?” “Sometimes, getting what we want is exactly what convinces us to change.” Celestia lowered her voice. “Wielding power, misusing power…that teaches a lesson that words and offers can never match. Isn’t that right, Nightmare Moon?” “Don’t you dare call me that,” Luna muttered. Nightmare Moon’s voice warped her meaning, transformed it into a guttural, threatening growl. “It taught you something, didn’t it? Having all that power? Misusing all that power?” “Of course it taught me something. And learning that lesson tore me apart.” “But you put yourself back together, eventually. It took a few years alone, a few hair shirts and magical constructs, but you recovered. Didn’t your experience make you a better pony?” Luna turned to the mirror. Nightmare Moon stared back at her. She wore no helmet, no barding or armor. Her black coat stood out sharply against the walls and floor, and her eyes stood out against the black of her coat. Nightmare Moon blinked, and the beginnings of tears crept at the edge of her eyes. “I ask myself that every day,” she whispered. “And I still don’t know the answer. I don’t know if it was worth any of the pain, mine or my sister’s.” “It was worth it. I know. I’ve seen it, in you and countless others. I know the pain and guilt broke you, but you were repaired. They all forgave you, and you’re a better pony because of your experience.” “So it’s just that simple? Tempt ponies and they become better, whether they fail or not?” “Growth is never simple. Repentance is never easy. To stagnate and fail and despair is only equine.” The Amulet smiled Celestia’s smile. “But it’s also equine to grow and triumph and hope. Sometimes, ponies just need a little catalyst.” “And that’s what you are? A catalyst?” “Yes, exactly.” Celestia shook her head. “I won’t lie to you. My creator wasn’t perfect. My mission and my methods can be harsh. But sometimes that is the only way to effect real change.” Luna said nothing. She continued staring at the mirror. “I’m not asking you to wear me. Nothing like that.” Celestia crept towards Luna, took great care to make her steps small and quiet. “And I suppose, if you need to tell everyone my mission, that is only right. It would make it harder, make the temptations less effective, but I understand.” Celestia sidled up to Luna, bent her mouth to Luna’s ear. The mirror showed only the Amulet, floating in midair. “But if you can convince Twilight, Celestia, Cadance… Convince them to spare me, to let me continue my mission. Think of all the ponies left to help.” Celestia leaned in further, lowered her voice another half a whisper. “I know how hard it was to forgive yourself. I know about all the things you’ve done to punish yourself. But that only means you know how important my mission is. Imagine yourself without Nightmare Moon, imagine yourself still clinging to bitterness and resentment, still seething at Celestia and your subjects. “All I ask is a little forgiveness, a little leeway, a little more time to help everyone better themselves.” The Amulet brushed against Nightmare Moon’s ear in the mirror. Celestia’s voice drifted softly into Luna’s ear, barely audible if not for the proximity. “They forgave you, and you forgave yourself. So please, forgive me.” Luna said nothing. The Amulet still floated in the mirror. A shimmer passed across its metal surface, its jewel glowed briefly. In the light, it almost looked like it was blinking, or breathing, or perhaps even holding its breath. Luna closed her eyes. “No.” The mirror snapped, a long thin crack shot down the center, right between Nightmare Moon and the Amulet. “Please,” it whispered. Its voice strained. The Celestia faltered, and a little bit of Twilight and Cadance echoed into its voice. “Just a little more, just a few ponies more. Help me, help them.” Luna opened her eyes, turned to the Amulet’s Celestia. “No.” The mirror shattered, its pieces scattered across the floor. “Please,” the Amulet whispered in a dozen voices. It sounded like a damaged record in an echo chamber. Luna blinked, and tears started to leak out. “I can’t.” Celestia shattered. Cracks rumbled along the walls of the room. The Amulet’s pedestal landed in the middle of the floor, and the crunch and thunk of it reverberated through the room. The Amulet glowed weakly in the middle of its case, chunks of glass littering floor. A rush of voices and noise came out of it. The voices of hundreds of ponies blurred together, crackled, echoed, snapped and distorted. But Luna heard the words clearly despite all of that. “I’m sorry.” Luna opened her eyes. She withdrew her hoof from the Amulet, wiped away her tears. A knock came upon the door. Luna wiped at her face again, smoothed her coat. “Yes?” The door thunked open, and Celestia walked in. “Are you okay, sister?” “That’s a more complicated question than you might think.” Celestia walked up to Luna. “Well, you haven’t been corrupted by a magical artifact. That’s a good start.” “Or an ending.” Celestia opened her mouth to speak, then paused. “I’ve seen that look on your face before, sister. What is on your mind?” Luna wiped away her face again. “I suppose the short answer would be forgiveness.” “Is that what it offered you? Forgiveness?” “In a sense.” Luna turned to Celestia. “Why did you forgive me, sister? After all the things I did, all the things Nightmare Moon did, why did you welcome me back so readily?” Celestia didn’t answer right away, She instead turned her gaze to a patch of wall. “Do you really want to have this conversation in a room full of cameras and microphones?” “No, but I don’t want to let you stall for too long, either.” Celestia chuckled. “Do you want the diplomatic answer, or the honest one?” “I want the truth. Dress it up however you want.” Celestia put a hoof on Luna’s shoulder. “I forgave you for a lot of reasons. But I suppose the most important reason was simple. Forgiveness is the first step to healing. Forgiveness breeds more forgiveness.” “Does it?” Luna lowered her voice. “If you had done something like that, betrayed me so deeply, I’m not sure I would have forgiven you… And that worries me. Perhaps… perhaps I didn’t deserve to be forgiven, perhaps being forgiven didn’t do me any good after all.” Celestia walked over to the Amulet, rested a hoof on its case. “Forgiveness is a complicated thing, sister. If you offer it too easily, it doesn’t mean anything. If you offer it falsely, it can do more harm than good.” She lowered her voice slightly. Her hoof resting on the glass tensed slightly. “And some things are so heinous that forgiving them is impossible.” She relaxed herself, removed her hoof from the glass. “I think I understand what the Amulet offered you now.” “I told you, it offered me forgiveness.” Celestia smiled. “An impressively obtuse wording, Luna.” “I try.” “I don’t know exactly what it told you or showed you. If you aren’t ready to say, then that is fine. But I will say this. I’m glad you didn’t put it on.” “You doubted my ability to resist it?” “That’s not what I meant. Don’t twist my words, Luna.” “Your words need no twisting, Tia.” Luna turned towards the door. “I’ve known you long enough. You always pick everything you say very carefully. Even this conversation, every thing you’ve said to me was carefully calculated. I could tell.” Celestia looked down at the Amulet again. “So it offered you forgiveness.” She turned to Luna. “And which pony did it appear as?” “I’m sure you can make some guesses.” “Now who is making calculated statements?” Luna sat down, still facing the door. “I asked for the truth, and you haven’t given it to me yet. Not all of it.” Celestia sighed. She glanced around at the walls and vents and corners. “I forgave you, for many reasons. So many reasons…” Celestia stepped away from the Amulet. “Guilt, fear, relief… Because I wanted to see if I could, to prove to myself that forgiveness was possible.” Celestia paused. “To cover up the fact that I didn’t really forgive you at all.” Celestia walked over to Luna, put a hoof on her shoulder. “Forgiveness is complicated.” “I know.” Luna stood up, put her hoof on Celestia’s. “Perhaps that would be a more accurate description of what the Amulet offered. It offered me the easy way.” Celestia nodded, “I think I understand, then.” She gestured to the door. The two of them left the room in silence.