//------------------------------// // V // Story: Never // by shortskirtsandexplosions //------------------------------// ...across the granite floor of the Palace Sepulcher and stood in silent reverence before the tomb. A fresh stretch of polished marble rested before young Celestia's shining figure. Her mane had changed over the centuries, casting a prismatic luminescence across the rows of stacked graves. In the center was a brand new slab with a shiny bronze plaque reading one name and a lifespan that ended that very same calender year. Celestia took a deep breath. Try as she might, she couldn't fight off the wavering shudder as she exhaled. Her face contorted in sorrow. She teetered upon the brink of sobs, but reined it in with remarkable grace. Swallowing, she read the name on the amber plaque over and over again until her lips finally produced the holy sound it demanded. “'Dusk Song...'” It tasted just like yesterday. The Princess gulped and tightened her jaw. Her eyes moistened, then dried on their own. Despite the courageous feat, she whimpered aside, “Luna, I don't know how many more times I can do this.” A young filly with a flowing blue mane stood beside her older, taller sister. “Then don't,” Luna said bluntly. “I've seen it. It tears at you. And yet you do it again and again.” Celestia gazed and gazed at Dusk Song's name, until her pale face reflected in the surface. Suddenly she frowned and marched down the mausoleum hallway. “I have no choice.” “You're the Princess of the Sun!” Luna called after her. “You always have a choice! You always have the authority!” She trotted quickly to catch up with her sister's furious gait. Together, the two marched swiftly down rows upon rows of graves, their bodies casting shadows from the multiple torches. “Do you simply forget who you are every time you raise the Sun in the morning?” “No, sister, I do not forget,” Celestia grumbled. “I remember who I am. Once more, I remember what our dear Father charged us with.” “Celestia, our dear father,” Luna drawled, “abandoned us to a world cast amidst the cold-hearted dichotomy of life and death!” “He did not abandon us!” Celestia turned to frown at her younger sister. “He left us in charge of enormous responsibilities befitting immortal alicorns! I do sincerely wish you would stop punishing the memory of him!” “Sister, I barely have any memory of him to punish,” Luna said. “But I do know you, and I love you. And I would very much wish that you would not punish yourself.” “It is not punishment!” Celestia hissed. She winced as her voice coldly bounced off of the maze of tombs surrounding them. She sighed and said in a calmer, quieter voice. “I cannot control the sun and maintain the realm of magic all on my lonesome. Neither can you master the moon and keep record of spells at the same time. We are not here to simply rule over these mortals. We have always been meant to commune with them, to nurture them, to help them in their fragile lives of discovery and understanding.” “An impossible feat for even one immortal,” Luna said. “Much less a pair of them. I know you care about our Father's wishes, but can't magic be left well enough alone?” “Of course it can't!” Celestia's voice rose again. The torches danced and billowed with scarlet fervor around the royal siblings. “We are not the only stewards this earth can afford, Luna. There may come a time when there's a force too great for even you and I to master. When that time comes, we'll need our royal subjects in possession of the elements of this world to combat any evil when or if it shows.” “The only evil I've witnessed, Celestia, is the decay that gnaws on this kingdom we've established. Decade after decade, century after century, the losses amount. Look where we are...” Luna pointed towards the halls and towering stacks of graves. “Dusk Song isn't the first pony to make permanent residence in this place. A thousand years ago, our Father built this Palace to be a gathering of mortals and immortals alike. I swear, the only reason it's ever expanded to such an enormous size is to house sepulchers like this one. And it will not end, Celestia, no matter how much you and your faithful apprentices tame magic.” “I know that it is endless, Luna,” Celestia said. Her majestic body slumped with a sigh as she gazed beyond the torches. “I thought that, with time, I would become used to it. I thought I would gain the neutrality and wisdom I witnessed in Father before he left the earth for greater things. But in so many centuries upon centuries, that hasn't happened. I can't pretend to change the way of all things. I just wished that all things would be easier. I wished that fate would fall differently on the apprentices I come to foster and adore.” Luna stared at the rows of graves beyond them. She murmured aside, “Perhaps what you should address is that adoration to begin with..” Celestia raised an eyebrow. She looked over at Luna. “Sister...?” The younger sibling coldly returned the gaze. “You love and cherish those whom you mentor, Celestia. But perhaps that is your one timeless mistake. I would be lying if I said that there weren't occasions when I wanted to interrupt your magic lessons with Equestria's greatest sorcerers and attempt to diffuse the bond you have formed with them.” “Luna...!” Celestia gasped as if struck with a dagger. “Do not pretend that I am suggesting something obscene.” “I care for each and every one of our subjects like they were—” “Were what?” Luna's eyes hardened. “Our children? Do not be so naïve, sister. I may be younger than you, but that hasn't made me perceive the passage of time any differently. Dusk Song was once a young colt, studying in our largest libraries, giggling as he filled his eager mind with endless banks of knowledge. Then, in a blink, he was a frail soul clinging to you as you led him to the infirmary, just like all of the generations of pupils before him. I don't know how you do it either, Celestia, but I pray—in my sleep and in my dreams—I pray that you come to realize what is the true nature of our situation. We cannot call these mortals our 'children.' At best, we can only afford them as pets.” Celestia grimaced upon hearing those last words. She looked ready to angrily retort, but backed off with a drooping of her ears. It was a foalish expression, like a pale shade of herself that had once collapsed upon a green field at time's beginning. Luna took a deep breath and walked over to her. “Forgive the extreme color of my speech, dear sister. But I care for you. I barely see you in between the small gaps in time between the rising of the sun and moon. Those moments afford me dreadful pictures of a sad princess bathed in twilight. I do not wish to see that horrible visage any longer. I wish to see my sister again, as bright and as cheerful as the morning.” Celestia's gaze fell to the floor as she muttered, “I fear that I no longer have it within me to be bright, Luna.” “You can be bright, dear sister,” Luna said. “You just need to know where to position the veil, and it's come time you shrouded someone else than yourself.” Celestia looked up at her. “How do you mean?” Luna paced past a series of coffins, gently brushing her hoof across the plaques and names and dates that lined up like copper teeth beyond them. “The next time you foster an apprentice—and we both know very well that there will be a next time—I suggest that you impose a new order. Once you have sufficiently taught your student the ways of proper sorcery, you must make the bold move of severing all ties with said unicorn. From then on, your lives—both mortal and otherwise—will pursue separate courses, unbound by each other's joys or sorrows.” “How...” Celestia wasn't protesting, she was merely curious. She squinted quizzically at her younger sister. “How could I possibly go about forcing such a separation?” Luna stared at the floor for a prolonged time. She blinked, then glanced up at Celestia. “A fabrication.” “You suggest that I lie to my very own students?” “I suggest that you invent a necessary artifice that will legitimize your perpetual parting of ways,” Luna said, trotting slowly towards her. “After all, it wouldn't be the first time we've augmented the truth that we bequeath to our royal subjects. We have and always shall consider their safety above all.” “But I do not think I could weather a personal breach of honesty with my very own personal protege—” “And what would you rather do? Hmmm?” Luna's dark eyes were piercing, like knife edges. “Dusk Song died alone, childless, and in utter solitude.” “Untrue! He had us—” “He had timeless alicorns, Celestia,” Luna said firmly. “No matter how desperately we attempt to paint the truth otherwise, we are no family for a mortal. When these unicorns become the bridge between our realm and Equestria—when they carry the same burden that our Father has left us—they sacrifice whatever peaceful lives they could have enjoyed in the company of their fellow peers. We bless them with knowledge, and yet we curse them with destiny. Has that ever occurred to you, even once in all of these centuries?” Celestia staggered back from that. She bumped into a wall of tombs and gazed up, breathless, as if all of the graves were caving in on her. She ran a hoof over her face as tears welled up in her eyes. Slowly, Equestria's Princess fell to her haunches and heaved through a slew of blossoming sobs. “I never... never meant for any of this... for all of this to be so... so...” “Dearest Celestia...” Luna was already nuzzling her, gazing warmly into her elder's distraught face. “We may be timeless, but we are not formless. It is never too late to change. That is the single, most dear message I wish to convey to you.” Celestia's tears were flowing, but her face tightened upon a solid resoluteness she hadn't felt in a long time. In a firm breath, she...