Luna fled through her night.
Her sister had made a mistake? She was gone, not just briefly so that Luna might learn a lesson, but gone with the possibility never to return. It was inconceivable.
Literally, Luna had never imagined a day might dawn without her sister. Even in the midst of the Nightmare the worst she had considered inflicting on her sister was banishment, fair turnabout for her own exile on the moon. That was the whole point of immortality; that she would be there forever.
Now the Princess of Night faced the death of one she’d thought deathless and she was afraid.
So she fled.
Away from that room where she’d heard the terrible truth, carrying the letter that might prove to be last message from her sister, from Princess Celestia. Her instincts sent her toward the castle, where every inch of stone and mortar was imbued with the feel of her sister’s magic. There was no use to the castle. It could not be used to trace or summon Celestia, at least so far as she knew, but its presence would be a comfort, like curling up alone under a blanket which had once been shared with a departed loved one.
Smoke form coiling through the window, Luna became corporeal in the empty great hall. She could hear it now, a keening coming from the castle, a wail of grief echoing from the very stones, heard now because it was mirrored in her own heart.
Knowing that another shared her pain, even if it was merely a demesne, blunted the worst of the pain. It knew Celestia and it would remember her in its own silent way, even if the worst should happen. Much as the Castle of the Two Sisters must have done, Luna realized. She now understood both why Celestia had left that castle and why she had not had it torn down upon leaving. A memorial is no place to keep a home.
Celestia was not yet dead, though, so perhaps the grief the castle’s keening anticipated would never come to pass. For that to be true, Luna needed help. She needed somepony well versed in arcane lore, willing to plumb the depths of magic if that was what it took to bring Celestia back.
The answer was obvious. Luna glanced around at the darkened hallway into which her hooves had carried her. She was already well on her way to Twilight’s room. Unthinkingly, Luna had let her hooves guide her toward the only other pony in the castle that would share her pain and maybe, if the letter spoke true, be able to help end it.
It was a long walk, longer than it should have been. Even in their shared grief the castle still preferred Twilight to her, and after their argument it wanted to keep them apart. Or perhaps that was just Luna feeling the waste of each second that was not spent helping her sister. Either way, that walk through the empty corridors of her sister’s castle was one of the most lonely journey’s Luna had ever had to make.
At last, Luna stood before the door of Twilight Sparkle’s room at the top of her tower. Despite having come this far, she hesitated at the threshold, remembering their previous fight. It seemed unimportant compared with the need to help her sister. Surely Twilight would see it the same way; after all, her love for Celestia was hardly any less than Luna’s. Firming her resolve, Luna opened the door. Stepping inside she found the room cold and empty with Twilight’s absence.
Now what? Luna wondered. Somehow, during the whole arduous walk to Twilight’s room it had never occurred to Luna that the other pony wouldn’t be there. She considered trying to find the Twilight, but Canterlot was a big city and finding a single pony in it would be a challenge. No, she’ll come back to her room sooner or later. It’s better to wait here, Luna decided.
For a moment Luna considered taking a seat on the couches on either side of a low table in the center of the room. That seemed too still for the nervous energy that wracked her body so Luna stood, glancing around the room. Her hoof kept tapping and when she finally managed to lock it down her wings took on twitches of their own.
If only there was something I could be doing. Anything would be better than waiting, Luna lamented. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any other pony she could think of that even had a chance of being able to help, and with the inner turmoil she was feeling at the moment she didn’t trust herself to make the right call either. While she waited, Luna read and reread Celestia’s letter so many times that, had it been written on ordinary paper, it would have long since crumpled into illegibility.
After what seemed the hundredth reread, Luna cast the letter onto Twilight’s desk with a huff and took to pacing the room. Her eyes lingered on the titles of the books filling the bookcases that lined three sides of the room. On another evening she would have been good-naturedly judging Twilight’s taste in literature and looking forward to a discussion on how her old favorites fared when compared to the literary canon of the last thousand years.
But it was not an ordinary night, and that managed to suck the pleasure even from the thought of all the magnificent stories she had waiting for her now that she had returned.
As Princess of the Night it had not even occurred to her to turn on any lights, so the room was dim, lit only by stars from the massive window that covered the entire east wall of Twilight’s room. That darkness was suddenly broken. Without any sound to give warning, a bright light blazed through the window, its eerie illumination casting the whole room in a strange relief.
Luna rushed to the window and could just make out on its far left side a great column of light rising in the north. A shockwave, one not fully in the material plane, followed after and Luna shook under its force, though the tower itself held firm.
At once, Luna’s mind raced back to her recent encounter with Sombra beneath the frozen tundra of the north. She opened her magic to the light, dreading that she would feel his dark energy reaching out and contaminating all that the light touched.
No. Instead of the slimy creeping darkness she had feared, she found a fortifying strength. The magic seeped into her body, slotting into a place she hadn’t realized was vacant. It was unmistakably immortal magic and for a brief hopeful moment she thought her sister had somehow returned. Her sister’s magic was different though, warmer and more fluid. This put her in mind of another power, an old one, related to Sombra and yet different. If she could just remember.
As hints of what the light could mean flickered through her mind, she could just see out of the corner of her eye a flash of purple on the top of the Canterhorn. It was followed quickly by a much closer flash of purple light and upon turning around Luna found herself face to face with Twilight Sparkle, Spike, and that griffon ambassador whose name escaped Luna at the moment.
The lights in the room clicked on automatically at Twilight’s presence, a clever bit of magic nopony was in the mood to appreciate. Scarcely pausing to catch her breath, Twilight started talking. “Luna, you’re here. Good, I—” Twilight stopped. Luna could see her reasserting control, making some different choice. Whatever that decision was, its outcome was not what Luna had expected. Twilight bowed her head, slightly, and spoke more formally. “Excuse me, Princess Luna, I desire your counsel.”
Luna considered the pony before her, mulling over both her actions and the implication of her sister’s letter. “I need your help as well, Twilight Sparkle. And you may call me Luna.” As Twilight looked up in surprise Luna extended her foreleg.
Slowly, Twilight raised her own hoof and shook it. In the background Gilda whispered to Spike, “That seemed more dramatic than it needed to be. Am I missing something?”
Twilight’s focus never shifted from Luna. “If may ask, what changed?”
“I would like to say that I carefully considered the matter and changed my mind.” Luna shifted uncomfortably and called Celestia’s letter over from the desk. “However, the truth is I need your help and if that requires that I offer you respect then so be it. Read and you will understand.”
Encased in a purple glow, Twilight raised the letter to her face. Her eyes scanned back and forth with inequine speed and her eyes grew steadily wider. By the time she reached the end of the letter the whites of her eyes were clearly visible across the room. Immediately she returned to the top of the letter and read again at a slower pace.
Spike, seeing Twilight’s alarm, turned to Gilda. “That face says that this is easily a five teacup problem, so I’m going to go make tea. You can stay if you want to, but they’re probably going to be busy for hours.”
Gilda yawned, the late hour and busyness of the day catching up with her now that she had stopped moving and talking. “I think I’m going to hit the perch. I’d just be in the way and I’m still flight-lagged from the trip over. Hey Sparkle!” she called over to Twilight. “This doesn’t count as our official meeting, you hear? You still owe me that.” Twilight gave a distracted wave but didn’t answer. “I’m not going to get anything more than that out of her now, am I?” she chuckled.
Spike shook his head.
“Ah well, I’ll be back soon enough anyway. Watch yourself, cub.” She said to Spike, giving him a quick fist bump. “Later.” Gilda strode over to the nearest window and soared out, heading to the embassy’s eyrie for whatever sleep she could catch.
“I’m not a cub,” Spike grumbled as he set off to make tea. “I’m not a griffon and I’m not that young either.”
***
Twilight finished rereading the letter and set it down slowly. It had been a surprise to find Luna waiting for her in her room when they’d returned from the top of the mountain, but given the contents of the letter she understood. Now, with that light in the north, the coincidence seemed convenient. They had a lot to talk over.
She and Luna had seated themselves on the couches in the room’s center and she’d asked Luna to be quiet while she read the letter through a few more times, making sure no hidden meanings had been missed. After a careful analysis, she was forced to admit that there was nothing hidden in it beyond the painful words of the letter itself.
She rubbed her temples, feeling the beginnings of a migraine, and began to speak, half to herself half to Luna. “Ok. Triage, what are the problems and what needs to be dealt with first? Princess Celestia, or at least some part of her is dying, primary concern. There is a strong source of immortal magic in the north that just appeared, secondary concern. Princess Celestia’s body is missing and may or may not be Sunlit Rooms, tertiary concern.” She paused, frowning, then nodded sharply. “Right, so, Princess Celestia’s immortality is sentient and dissolving?”
“Maybe?” Luna’s voice was weak and uncertain. “I don’t recall an immortal ever being completely separated from their immortal magic before. I don’t even know what that would mean. I would have thought that it’s like asking if you can separate your brain from your mind, but if she’s sending letters then that doesn’t seem to be an accurate analogy.”
“What about when you were on the moon?” Twilight asked. “Did you have both your body and your immortal magic then? Is there some analogy to how you were then and how Princess Celestia is now that might be able to guide us in helping her return?”
“I don’t think so. My body, mind, and magic were all in one place, plus the Nightmare, that place just wasn’t here.” Luna hesitated, searching for the right words. “Or anywhere, really. I was imprinted on the moon and it became my body and mind, in a way. It was only with the help of four precious stars that I kept some semblance of an equine mind and was able to eventually return.”
“So you were in one piece whereas in this case Princess Celestia divested herself of her immortal magic, right?” Twilight clarified. She winced and rubbed her head as her migraine grew worse.
Luna nodded. “I think so. Or you might say that her immortal magic divested its body, depending on what is more central to her being. But it sounds like the magic is just floating around, and magic without a form does not last long.”
“Yes, but how long is not long?” Twilight asked. Without standing she reached out with magic and pulled a few large books to her. “We need to get a sense of how fast Princess Celestia is dissolving. If we have time a bit of research might make all the difference but if it’s a choice between losing her and some desperate ploy I’d risk everything to save her. We’re not losing Princess Celestia forever. I’m just not!”
“Of course,” Luna affirmed. “I do not know how much time we have but I’ll join you in risking everything to save Tia, regardless of what she wrote.”
“She wouldn’t need saving if you hadn’t thrown a hissy fit!” Twilight snapped, anger flaring in her heart. How dare Luna act sad when this is all her fault, she thought. Luna’s taken aback expression startled Twilight in turn and helped her push the strange surge of anger back down. Twilight clapped a hoof over her mouth. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to say that. I, ah-” she grimaced and rubbed her head. “This situation must be getting to me and this headache isn’t helping. I am sorry though, you didn’t deserve that.”
Luna regarded the smaller pony carefully. “We have more important matters to consider so I’ll pay that no mind. Are you ok though? You don’t look well.”
“I’m fine,” Twilight insisted despite her drawn face and bloodshot eyes. “I don’t have time not to be.” She tried to push back her discomfort and move the conversation to the next problem that faced them. “So the light, do you have any idea what it might be? I felt immortal magic in it but nothing I was familiar with.”
“I have some idea of what it is, though my memories are still blurry,” Luna began. Before she could continue Spike returned with his little tea trolley. It clattered as he rolled it into the room and gently placed a cup of steaming fragrant tea in front of each of them. Twilight shot him a grateful smile and sipped her tea with evident relief while Spike settled onto the couch next to Twilight. He did a double take as he took in her pained face. He shot Luna a glance to ask if she knew why Twilight looked so haggard, and all she could do was shake her head in response.
“Thank you for the tea, Spike,” Luna said, adding two cubes of sugar to her cup. “I was just about to explain to Twilight what I know of that strange light.”
“Oh, notes!” Twilight said, sitting up suddenly. “I’ll need to write this down.” She made to get up, but Spike stopped her with a claw.
“I’ll take care of it. You look like you need to sit down for a bit.”
Twilight hesitated before sinking back into the plush purple fabric of the couch with a grateful sigh. “Thanks, I’d really appreciate that.”
In short order, Spike had a piece of parchment and quill at the ready. He and Twilight looked to Luna expectantly.
“I believe,” Luna began, “that the light is from a place called the Crystal Empire. It was a kingdom that used to exist to the north of Equestria. It wasn’t just an ordinary kingdom, though, there was something special about it.” She growled and shook her head. “It’s irritating me, but I can’t remember what that special thing was. Something about magic, I think. It had a special kind of magic, maybe?”
The gentle scratch of Spike’s quill against parchment was the only sound as Luna tried to cudgel some answers from her muddled memories.
“Some form of immortal magic?” Twilight asked.
“Not just immortal magic, I don’t think. There was something more to it. I wish I could remember,” Luna groaned.
“Why is your memory so shaky here? You seem to have reasonable recall of other topics from before your banishment.” Twilight’s curiosity had been piqued and her headache had abated somewhat as she questioned Luna.
“This was fairly close to when I became the Nightmare,” Luna admitted, gazing down into her teacup. “I don’t- I don’t really remember that period of my life well. I don’t think I want to, to be honest. If we could focus on what I do remember of the Crystal Empire?”
Twilight nodded. “Sorry to bring up unpleasant memories. You’re right, we need to focus on the more urgent problems.”
Luna looked up. She wasn’t smiling, quite, but she no longer looked so sad. “Thanks. I’ll tell you more about the magic if I remember it. There’s a little bit more I remember about the Crystal Empire itself. She glanced over a Spike. “You ready?”
Spike had paused in his writing as they spoke and was shaking out his claw. He moved quickly to pick the quill back up and looked at Luna. “Ready when you are, princess.”
Luna then explained how a pony named Sombra had managed to capture the magic of the Crystal Empire and used it to further his own magic. It had made him so powerful that he had become a terrible threat to the world, a mortal who had ascended to challenge even the immortals. They could not defeat him in open battle so they had conceived of a way to banish the Crystal Empire and Sombra with it. And finally, Luna explained how she had met Sombra in his prison less than a week ago and renewed the bounds on him with the mantle of the sun.
“I don’t know,” Luna concluded, “why it has returned now. Nor do I know if Sombra has returned as well, or if he will be able to regain control of the Crystal Empire”
As she spoke, Twilight’s color improved and she was able to focus on Luna’s story rather than the headache. When Luna finished talking the gears in Twilight’s head were already turning.
“So it sounds as though we simply need more information about the Crystal Empire before we can really make any informed decisions,” Twilight remarked. “We need to know more about what it’s capable of and how Sombra plays into its return. But I think it’s too dangerous to approach it until that light dissipates. There’s no telling what it would do to us if we got too close.”
“That is my take on the situation as well,” Luna agreed. “I believe we should arrange for an expedition that can be ready to travel north the moment the light fades.”
“Right. And one of us should go with them, probably me since you have a country to run, to see if some trace of Princess Celestia was drawn northward, like calling to like, as it were.” Twilight reached forward to take another sip of tea and missed, knocking the tea cup over. She blinked stupidly at the suddenly spreading liquid. Leaning forward she missed her supporting hoof and almost smashed her face into the table, only to be caught by Spike at the last second.
“Twilight! Twilight what’s wrong?” Spike pulled her back into a sitting position but her head lolled on her neck. At his words she tried to focus and just managed to pull her head upright, though the world still seemed to be spinning around her.
“Sorry, sorry,” she slurred. “What were we talking about? What was that third problem? Right, Sunlit Rooms. We need to come up with a way to determine if she is Princess Celestia.” She whimpered as another wave of pain burned through her head.
“First we must see to you,” Luna said worriedly. “I’ll send for a doctor.”
“No! No…” Twilight mumbled, looking down. “Princess Celestia is more important. Celestia… Celestia…”
Spike hopped down from the couch and stood in front of Twilight, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Look at me Twilight. Look at me. We need to help you right now, Celestia can come later.”
“Celestia… later! No. Celestia…” Twilight’s ramblings grew incoherent but her gaze focused on Spike and her eyes narrowed. “Celestia. Now. Celestia. For… ev… er…” she gritted out. Behind Spike Twilight’s teacup rose into the air, her aura holding it darkening ominously. With a snap the cup shattered, leaving behind artificially sharp jagged shards of porcelain.
Held in that dark aura, the shards rose into the air and floated behind Spike’s head.
“No!” Luna realized what was happening too late and her cry of alarm came too slow.
“For Princess Celestia,” Twilight ground out again through gritted teeth. Held in her magenta aura the razor sharp shards sped toward the back of Spike’s head. It was impossible to say if Spike realized what was happening, but his gaze never wavered; he kept looking into the maddened eyes of his only family member.
That was why he saw, as the shards neared impact, a trace of lucidity return to Twilight’s feverish eyes. At the last instant, Twilight’s hoof kicked out and knocked Spike aside.
So, instead of cutting into Spike’s head, the shards were driven deep into Twilight’s right eye.
Recoiling on the couch she loosed a scream of agony, clutching at her injured eye. Spike sprang up from where he’d tumbled and ran to her. “Twilight!”
Luna was scarcely an instant behind. Healing had never been her specialty and she knew no healing spells. Instead, she channeled her magic freely, focusing on thoughts of health and the banishment of pain. As the navy blue aura soaked into her, Twilight’s screams turned to whimpers. Her breath hissed out of her and at first Luna thought it due to the pain.
Then she caught the suspicious words in buried in Twilight’s exhalation. “Attacked me, probably attacked Princess Celestia too.”
Recoiling, Luna almost ended her spell, but she feared Twilight would injury herself further if it was ended. Instead, she grabbed Spike and pulled him back, out of Twilight’s reach. “This cannot be normal. Has anything happened to injure Twilight’s mind?”
The little dragon shook his head, scarcely listening. Tears welled up in his eyes. “Twilight, why?” He shook off Luna’s hoof and ran forward, grabbing Twilight’s head and turning it toward the darkened right side of the window. The contrast between the lit room within and the night outside had turned that part of the window into a mirror and he forced her to look at her own reflection. “Look. This isn’t you Twilight. Come back to me. Please!”
Perhaps it was his pleading, or the frightening reflection in the mirror echoing what the castle had showed her before. Perhaps it was simply the pain. Regardless of the cause, a lucid shard of Twilight wrestled to the surface against the tide of madness.
This was what the castle was warning me about, she realized. This was what Spike noticed about my anger. Something is interfering with my mind. As Luna’s healing spell continued, the pain receded and without the pain to keep her grounded she felt her mind flowing away again. “Stop. Healing.” She ground out, hoping the renewed pain would help glue the pieces of her mind together.
“But your eye, your pain,” the princess objected.
Spike whirled around. “If she says you need to stop then do it,” he snapped. Startled, Luna let her magic lapse. Twilight’s whimpering turned to pained moans. “What else can we do?” Spike asked desperately.
The dive into madness and the return through pain had served their purpose. Twilight had heard a word in the drumbeat of madness that explained everything. She felt it even now, pounding against the borders of her mind, trying to gain entrance and shatter what sanity remained.
CELESTIA.
CELESTIA.
CELESTIA.
It had been the memory spell. Of course it had. Twilight had thought her wards could keep out a spell powered by the divesture of the immortality itself? What arrogance. She had thought concern for her mentor had driven the uncharacteristic anger she had displayed, had thought her love/admiration/worship for Princess Celestia explained the haze and the pain that seemed to fill her mind whenever the princess’s name was mentioned.
But no, her ward had not turned the spell aside, it had inverted it and locked it in. Instead of forgetting, it had filled her mind with Princess Celestia, calling forth the obsession whenever the name was mentioned. Until her mind and magic began to melt under the reverberation of the name.
CELESTIA.
CELESTIA.
CELESTIA.
Twilight screamed, an agonizing cry, fighting to beat back the waves of madness. How could she break the spell? How could she end the assault on her mind?
Not for nothing was Twilight Sparkle the Archmage. Even when her mind was under attack from an immortal’s spell, when she was blinded in one eye and in terrible pain, she was still a master of magic. Two possible solutions occurred to her immediately. One was to reinvert the spell, as it were. Change it back into what it was meant to be and allow it to resolve. Once its purpose was fulfilled the spell would unravel and the excess power that was lashing at her brain would dissolve.
Unfortunately, the spell was meant to make the subject forget the existence of Princess Celestia. Choosing this option would mean the loss of any memory of the princess, as had happened to every other pony, leaving Luna to recover her sister alone.
That was not an option. Which meant that there was really only one choice.
She sucked in a deep breath and readied her magic for what she would have to do. It was dangerous, of course, but there were no safe paths and…
CELESTIA!
She was running out of time. Pulling Spike close to her, she whispered what she needed him to do.
He stared at her, openmouthed. “Please, don’t make me do that. Anything else, please!” he begged.
“I ahhh,” she broke off with a whimper as a fresh bolt of pain lanced through her eye. “I need you to do this for me, Spike.”
The little dragon drew himself up and angrily scrubbed the tears from his eyes. He needed clear sight for this, the smallest mistake would be catastrophic for Twilight. “Ok. Alright. If you say so I’ll do it. Ready?” With sheer force of will Twilight pulled her forelegs from her ruined eye. She faced him dead on and whimpered out an affirmative.
Spike inhaled.
And blew a straight and narrow flame directly into Twilight’s ruined eye.
Twilight screamed again, shrill and primal and pained. Dragonfire was said to be more terrible than any ordinary flame, said to burn down to the very soul and right now Twilight certainly believed it. However, it was the other trait of dragonfire that she needed: it burned through all other magic.
Diving deep into her own magic, Twilight pushed the pain away as best she could, focusing instead on her nerve endings. As the fire met the nerve ending at the back of her eye she unleashed the spell she had prepared. Her magic grabbed at the dragonfire, pushing away the physical heat of the flame and pulling the magic-cancelling part of the dragonfire forward along the optic nerve towards her brain.
As the dragonfire was pulled along it began to eat through her guiding and protection spells. She reinforced them desperately, racing to keep her magic coherent against the corrosive influence of the dragonfire. Walking a knife’s edge didn’t begin to describe it. If she faltered in her magic the dragonfire would burn through her nervous system, killing her instantly. If she smothered it completely then the spell tainting her mind with CELESTIA would kill her almost as swiftly.
Racing just ahead of death, Twilight felt the dragonfire enter her cranium. She thickened her magic on one side and thinned it on the other, guiding the dragonfire counterclockwise around her brain. The burning in her skull brought the cleansing clarity of fire. Pounding became thumping became a simple beat before almost disappearing entirely as the dragonfire burned away the rogue spell.
Hope began to rise in Twilight’s heart as she felt the pressure on her mind clear. There was still pain, to be sure, pain of a brutalized eye and pain of tortured mind, but it was her eye now and her mind.
Even as the corrupted spell faded she came upon the most dangerous part of this improvised process, casting the dragonfire back out of her head. The idea was to circle it around her skull and crash it against itself. This would reflect its cancelling effect and expel the rest of the dragonfire from her empty eye socket. The trick was going to be in making the loop in the stream of dragonfire without leaving an opening for it to roar across her unprotected brain. She watched in her mind’s eye as the dragonfire circled back around, trying to time the perfect moment to extend her spellwork and complete the loop. Waiting for the right moment.
Now!
Back in the world, Spike and Luna watched with fear as Spike’s dragonfire flowed into Twilight and her eyes lit from within. They listened in terror as her screams continued on and on, long after her body should have ceased to be able to support them. Spike’s claws clenched with impotent rage at his own inability to help and at the thought he might have killed his sister.
At last, a great plume of green and purple flame poured from Twilight’s eye. With one last scream, she collapsed into terrifying stillness.