Like the princess herself, raising and lowering the sun never aged.
Celestia smiled as the last of the sunlight dipped below the horizon, bathing Equestria’s capital in the pale twilight. She was a mare of habit, letting out a satisfied sigh as she drank the last of her evening tea, her silver teaspoon scraping against the immaculate ceramic. The warm glow that inundated her room dissipated soon after, leaving the alicorn in a content, albeit somber moonlight.
“I’m counting on you, Luna.” Her voice faded into the terribly empty bedroom.
This time — it would be different.
This time — there’d be no nightmare.
This time.
She gently shook her head. In her restless state, her fatigue often left her manic and scatterbrained. In truth, the alicorn didn’t need sleep as much as a normal pony did. Though, week after week, nightmare after nightmare, even the strongest soul was bound to snap eventually. She couldn’t let that happen.
She needed to talk to her sister again.
Celestia sat up slowly, moving with purpose as she walked across her bedroom and toward the door. Before she was able to open it, a gentle magenta glow encased the brass handle.
She raised an eyebrow. Magic? She recognized the aura, it was a noise-cancellation spell. Why would her guard feel the need to cast that? Celestia ignited her horn and pressed her head against the door’s frame, faintly listening in on the irate voice.
“This is so stupid. I could be at the bar with Aegis right now, hitting up some cute mare.”
She gaped. Celestia knew that voice; it was her guard, or one of them at least. His name escaped her at the moment, but he was often assigned here late at night to protect her while she slept.
“Can it, Martyrdom. We’re going to be standing here all night, the last thing I need is to listen to you rant again.”
He scoffed. “Say what you want, but you know I’m right, Caestus. If Princess Celestia could handle herself, she wouldn’t need us here wasting our time.”
“It’s just a precaution. We’re being safe.”
“Don’t give me that. If it was a situation that was dire enough, she’d find a way to get herself captured, and then Princess Twilight would do all the work for her. I mean, by Faust, she couldn’t even take down Queen Chrysalis on her own.”
Celestia scowled as his words bored into her. She had half a mind to walk through that door to chew him out herself, but she reluctantly bit her tongue. Surely Caestus would come to her defense, right?
“She was powered up on love magic, remember? It’s not like taking her down was a walk in the park.”
“Still, she didn’t even trust her own student. What in Tartarus does that say about her?”
“I… you’re right. Even I’ll admit, she’s basically incompetent without Princess Luna, and she’s been out of the loop for a millennium. That being said, it’d be best if you stopped complaining about it. The last thing I want to do is get court-martialed because you’re having a bad day.”
Celestia felt her breath caught in her throat. She swallowed and backed away from the door. The ice in the pit of her stomach told her that walking out would be a mistake, as it would signify that the two of them had been caught in the act. All the anger that she felt had faded away, leaving her with nothing but an empty, hollow feeling.
Did the rest of them think the same of her?
It was hard for her to be angry. Deep down, she was afraid that they were right. How little confidence did they have in her for them to be so cynical? This wasn’t something she’d just be able to sleep off. The guilt compounded day after day, and the dreamless sleep she so desperately hoped for would not come to her.
Though, a mere minute after hitting her soft bed, her exhaustion finally bested her, her vision fading to black.
Celestia knew this place.
It was her dreamscape, a vast plane of simple nothingness. The atmosphere of this place had shifted, becoming black and tendril-like in nature, threatening to claw at her very being. She was not Luna, but lucidity had, over time, become second nature to her nonetheless. Though, in a place like this, being unconscious would be a much more welcoming alternative.
She was not scared because that word wasn’t strong enough. No, what she felt could almost be akin to that of loneliness.
Alone.
It’s a horrific word— the worst that Celestia knew in Equish tongue. Murder was barely on a stepping stone and Tartarus only began to describe it. In truth, no mortal being knew what alone really meant. Of what the mind will do to itself when deprived of another pulse, of the sound of another beating heart, when the only noise is one’s own breath amidst a silent scream rattling around your addled psyche, threatening to split it ear to ear.
Celestia knew what alone was. She had seen what had happened to her sister when she was alone, how a pony could destroy themselves with a simple, cohesive thought.
The mind is a beautiful thing, yet dangerous by design.
Crack!
Light filled the void. Celestia raised one wing to shield herself from blinding radiance, a deluge of incomprehensible color filled her vision. Then, all at once, the warmth faded away, leaving only the coldness to fester.
It was Daybreaker.
Even here, Celestia was not alone. Daybreaker was a demon, and that demon, a reflection. It was a phantom that haunted her with insidious intent, a visage that not even the worst nightmare could portray in full.
Even this was not what alone was, Celestia knew that, too.
Daybreaker’s hollow stare pierced into Celestia’s soul, eyeing her with malicious contempt. Finally, the demon spoke. Her voice was a tantalizing, saccharine melody, snaking through her ears and coiling around her body.
“Hello again, Celeste.”
“Daybreaker.”
It wasn’t so much a greeting as it was a formal recognition, an acceptance of the demon’s existence. It was Celestia’s dream, but Daybreaker’s reality. The demon did not signal an arrival, it spontaneously came to fruition with no particular accord.
She was powerless, even here.
"Sleep well?"
"You disgust me," Celestia growled. "Why do you get such pleasure out of torturing me like this every night?"
A twisted mockery of a smile formed on the demon's face. “It’s always the same, isn’t it?” Daybreaker mused, approaching her whilst leaving a trail of golden flame in her wake. “Same dream, same conversation, same result.”
“I have nothing more to say to you.”
“Then listen to me, heathen,” Daybreaker seethed. “While your misery is something I may enjoy, it does little to promote our growth. Your compliance would be a much stronger catalyst, I wager.”
“E-excuse me?”
“Have you gone deaf as well as blind? Fine, let me simplify it so even a plebeian like you could understand.” Daybreaker released a deep sigh, her burning mane growing ever brighter. “Join us.”
Celestia found herself at a loss for words yet again. Daybreaker’s approach had never been this clandestine; rather, the dream usually ended with her own death from balefire or exsanguination.
This was almost more troubling.
“Silence is not an answer, Celeste. Speak, lest I make your torment more painful.”
She felt like crying, but she knew that this demon would exploit any moment of weakness she displayed. She’d have to stay strong, for her own sake, and for everyone else’s.
“I will not succumb to your evil, barbaric desire for power, Daybreaker.”
This answer caused Daybreaker to chuckle. Chuckling turned into full-fledged laughter, before devolving into a deranged cackling as fire and fumes exited her sharp, teeth-filled maw. The abyss was almost entirely illuminated by Daybreaker’s mane alone, the fire seemingly sentient as the heat threatened to scorch Celestia where she stood.
“You say I am evil, yet here I am, standing before myself; albeit a lesser, docile soul.”
“You have no soul. You’re nothing but a figment of my imagination.”
In an instant, without further provocation, a torrent of balefire cascaded upon the princess. Celestia reflexively cast a shield around herself as the magma-like fire seeped into the magical barrier. She teleported a short distance and took flight as a roaring inferno chased after her. Daybreaker matched her stride, attempting to shoot her out of the air with fireball after fireball.
“Just give in, Celeste. You and I both know this isn’t a fight you can win.”
Celestia released a concussive blast, knocking the tornado away and nearly hitting Daybreaker. “Maybe not alone, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hold my own against you.”
She was on the attack now, launching a bolt of prismatic light that shattered against the floor in a fantastical display of incandescent color. The sheer luminosity of the spectacle nearly blinded the two of them, yet the demon seemed unaffected all in all.
Daybreaker grinned. “You’re right, you can hold your own. We are the same, you and I. We are only separated by your inability to bring righteous judgment to those who oppose you, who oppose us.” With the final word, she launched an avalanche of fire, a stray blast hitting Celestia square in the chest.
She cried out as the fire seared her flesh, knocking her down and sending her tumbling across the hellscape.
“But in truth, you do have the ability to hurt. Though the only thing you know how to hurt is yourself.” Daybreaker held up the defeated princess in her kinesis. “It’s time for you to stop being weak, Celeste. I’m everything that you’re afraid of, but in the end, I am still you.”
Celestia found herself gasping for air as the light slowly faded from her vision. “I am… not… like you. I will… never… be you.”
Suddenly, a cacophony of noise rung aloud and Daybreaker was launched several dozen feet away from Celestia, who fell to the ground with a harsh thud.
The lunar princess had appeared before Celestia. Her sister’s expression was a cocktail of emotion: one part sympathy, another part fear. “Sister, what is the meaning of this? I thought Daybreaker had been destroyed.”
“Clearly, you thought wrong,” Daybreaker answered for her.
Celestia heaved as she balanced against Luna for support, staring over at the demon with utter malice. “Your parasitic and toxic attitude can’t survive, Daybreaker. You know this.”
“As a matter of fact, I do know. Not without you, anyway. But that doesn’t matter, because I know that you can’t keep this up forever.”
Luna’s horn gave off a light blue glow as the heat in the room subsided.
“Princess Celestia!”
“Twilight?!” Celestia gasped. In front of her, she stared at an illusion of herself and Twilight when she was a filly. The giggling of the lavender unicorn threatened to melt Celestia’s wounded heart right then and there.
“Princess, I finally figured out how to cast a light spell! Aren’t you proud of me?”
A ball of white light hovered above young Twilight’s head, and the illusion of herself smiled. “I couldn’t be more proud, my dear Twilight.”
…
“L-Luna, why are you showing me this?” Celestia said, choking up as a small tear rolled off one cheek.
“Keep watching, sister.”
Another illusion of herself appeared, though this time, it was next to an older version of Twilight. She was an alicorn this time.
“I-I couldn’t have done it without you, Princess,” Twilight whispered as she buried her muzzle in her mentor’s wing.
“No, my faithful student. You had it in you the entire time, I just helped you finally see that.”
“Thank you.”
The two of them disappeared as quickly as they came, being replaced by another version of herself standing before a young, pink filly.
“W-who are you?” The dirty and battered young alicorn scurried away from the older alabaster mare, who simply smiled down at her.
“My name is Princess Celestia, and you have nothing to fear little one. Tell me, what is your name?”
“Cadance, m-my name is Cadance.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cadance.”
One final scene greeted Celestia, who found herself struggling to stop herself from crying. Celestia held a younger Luna as the two of them knelt in their old castle, the light of the new moon casting a spotlight on them.
“Tia, I-I’m so sorry.”
“I know, Lulu. I’m sorry too.”
Celestia was a bawling mess, her crying muffled by Luna’s soft coat as the darkness from the dreamscape gave way to a soft, yellow glow. At this point, Daybreaker ceased to exist, leaving almost no trace that she existed in the first place.
“I-I’m so weak, Luna,” Celestia mumbled as Luna draped a wing over her.
“You’re wrong, sister. You’re the strongest mare I’ve ever lived to know. You endured so much, and lived so long… I’ve never seen a more gentle and honest soul.”
“I-I hate myself.”
Luna sighed. “No, you don’t hate yourself. You hate that part of yourself,” she stared over at where Daybreaker once stood. “In reality, that part of you is not in control. And as long as you keep fighting, it will never be in control.”
Celestia sniffled as the dream around them faded away. They were in reality once more, laying on her bed. “I-I don’t want to f-fight anymore, I h-hate this. Luna. W-was that really me?”
“No, it wasn’t you, and the fact that you resisted until the very end is a testament of said fact. But if you ever find yourself unable to keep fighting, just come to me. I know what it’s like to be alone. And I will never, ever let you share the same feeling.”
“I-I’m so sorry, Luna.”
“I love you, dear sister.”
Celestia, for the first time in over a month, slept peacefully that night.
“Your highness, Princess Twilight has arrived and is waiting for you in the main entrance.” The unicorn guard, whom Celestia knew now as Martyrdom, bowed. “She seemed awfully excited to see you again, Princess.”
Celestia chuckled. “I’d certainly hope so. I’d find it strange if she wasn’t nervous or excited with the prospect of talking to me.” She stretched, arching her back as she stood up from her throne. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off, Martyrdom?”
He perked up immediately. “Really? You mean it, Princess?”
“Of course, my loyal subject. I wouldn’t want to deprive you the opportunity of chatting up that cute mare, after all.”
“Thank you so much! I really—”
All at once, the color drained from his face, leaving him a stuttering mess. His eyes widened as he stared up at the smug smirk that had formed on Princess Celestia’s face. “You… know about that?”
“If I were you, I’d take the deal before I change my mind, Martyrdom.”
The stocky guard’s stature was reduced to that of a filly, scurrying away with his tail tucked away and praying to himself that he’d still be alive come next morning.
Of course, Celestia wasn’t capable of inflicting violence upon the stallion. She was nothing like Daybreaker, after all.
Celestia stumbled forward as a sense of nausea overtook her. She shook her head, chalking it up to the idea that she likely stood up too fast after sitting on her throne for half the day. The feeling was gone as soon as it came, Twilight’s bright smile helped Celestia forget all about it.
“Good afternoon, Celestia! I’m so glad to hear that you wanted me to come to Canterlot. How was day court?”
Wasn’t I just in the throne room? How long was I walking for?
“It was… fine. But I’m more interested to hear about your day,” Celestia replied. She held out her wing and laid it across Twilight’s back as they walked, an intimate but welcome gesture.
“Where do I even begin? Thorax and I have been discussing diplomacy between Equestria and the reformed Changeling Hive, Starlight is traveling back up to the Crystal Empire again to see Sunburst, and Spike is actually going through a growth spurt. It’s been a crazy week.”
Celestia gave her former student a warm smile. “It’s funny. I still remember when you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do as a princess, but now it’s like second nature to you.”
“Well, can you really blame me?” Twilight giggled. “It’s not like being a princess comes with an instruction manual.”
“No… I suppose it doesn’t.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow as she stopped in place. “Celestia, are you alright?”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“It’s just, how do I say it… you’ve felt off ever since I first saw you today,” Twilight explained. “Is something wrong?”
Celestia felt her breath quicken as she approached the rows of stain-glass windows next to them. “Well, Twilight… to tell you the truth… I’ve been rather unwell as of late. I asked you to come here for a reason. It was more than just a chance for us to catch up. I wanted… to remind myself of how much you’ve grown.”
“Princess?”
Celestia placed a hoof on one particular window, the one of Twilight surrounded by all of her friends. “I needed to remind myself of everything you’ve done, a-and how much you mean to m-me.”
“Princess?!”
Celestia slumped over as Twilight rushed up to her. She was pale now, all the color in her mane drained.
“I… I’m sorry, Twilight. You weren’t supposed to see this. This wasn’t how the day was supposed to go.”
Twilight placed a hoof on Celestia’s body, which appeared almost emaciated through the colorful glow of the window. “I don’t understand, Princess! Help me understand!”
Celestia gave her a lifeless chuckle. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Twilight. You’re not me, after all. You’re not Daybreaker.”
“D-Daybreaker?”
“We are the same, you and I, inseparable in totality.”
But that statement wasn’t entirely true. Was it?
She was nothing compared to Daybreaker, after all.