//------------------------------// // Chapter IV // Story: Songbird // by PaulAsaran //------------------------------// The night held an ominous air, though Celestia could not pin down the exact reason she felt that way. She reminded herself, over and over again, of what had just happened. Twilight had become… not Twilight, for lack of a better description. The memory was like a bruise on her heart, but Celestia forced herself to relive it again and again: the yellow eye, the amorous tone, the magical chase. She had to remember. Even now, she could feel something like claws attempting to rip apart her recollection. “Don’t forget,” she whispered, repeating the line with each flap of her wings. “Help Twilight. Don’t forget.” She was getting better at recognizing the signs. They came as feelings, a quiet recognition deep within that something was wrong. As her eyes drifted to the star-studded sky above, another of those tell-tale clues wormed its way into her brain. The night looked just as it always did, and yet she couldn’t help but feel as if it were missing something. Something… obvious. Then it struck her: she’d never lowered the sun. She didn’t even remember it going down. The hairs along her back stood on end as she observed her surroundings and found herself over a mile outside Canterlot Castle’s walls. But hadn’t she only just left Twilight at the archives? Twilight. “Don’t forget.” Her gaze passed over the dark city of Canterlot below, and the feeling came once more. She focused closely upon the many buildings and quickly came to two conclusions. First, that the city shouldn’t be this dark even in the middle of the night. Where were the streetlamps, the lanterns of guards on patrol, the bright lights of the lower levels with their nightclubs and bars and all-night restaurants? Canterlot slept as well as most cities, but it shouldn’t just be… black. The second thing she noticed was a now-familiar sensation of being watched. Not just watched. Scrutinized. As if somepony were gauging her actions and making plans, preparing to react to whatever decision she made next. It wasn’t a feeling she could adequately describe to herself, save that it was magical in some way. This awareness brought fresh shivers to her form, her anxiousness made all the worse by the knowledge that somepony may have accessed… accessed… Celestia cringed and forced her thoughts to Twilight. “Save Twilight.” She needed help. Twilight was compromised. Starswirl probably had been, too. She wasn’t out of options quite yet. Banking, she started to turn for the castle— Something purple flashed in her vision, followed by a stream of stardust. Celestia paused, eyes drawn to the gentle call of a familiar Seashore Nightingale. The sighting alone was enough to hold her attention, for what would one be doing at such a high altitude? As she watched, the nightingale flew a few tight circles around her, its soft-as-satin wingtips brushing against her body while it sang with a notable urgency. Then, abruptly, it flew off to the west. It only got so far, however, before it started flipping and circling and calling once more. Was it trying to tell her something? The idea seemed silly at best, but… Another distraction! Celestia shook her head forcefully and, with a mighty flap of her wings, darted for the castle, the bird’s frantic calls fading. “Don’t forget. You have to help Twilight. Don’t forget.” The lights of the room were still lit, much to Celestia’s surprise. She landed on the balcony and wasted no time pushing her way into the spacious room. Her eyes passed over the old family illustrations that covered two of the walls, instead centering just so as to keep her father in the corner of her eye. The fireplace made for a good focal point. Her father looked up from the book he’d been reading while in the canopy bed. Her mother, dressed in a pale white robe, sat in the corner with her eyes closed and her forelegs crossed, deep in meditation. “Celestia?” Her father bookmarked his place and shot her a quizzical frown. “Whatever are you doing here so late?” She turned to him directly, using the familiar shift of the light to find and focus on his now-invisible face. “Father, Mother, there’s something wrong. I need your help.” The bed creaked as he shifted in place. He spoke in a half-lecturing tone. “This isn’t some political issue, is it?” “No.” She glanced towards her mother. The mare hadn’t budged, not even an ear twitch. Only the steady rhythm of her breathing ensured that she was alive. “I think Equestria is in grave danger, or at least the monarchy.” The book closed with a snap. “Now that sounds serious. What’s going on?” “That’s just it, I’m not sure!” Celestia paced before the bed, her eyes set on her hooves as she struggled to remember everything. “In the town. The town of… oh… what was it called? I was just there! Pony… Place?” She snarled and shook her head violently. “The name isn’t important! What’s important is that there was something there, something that attacked me.” Out the corner of her eye, her mother at last reacted. It was only the faintest tilt of her head, but it was clue enough that she was paying attention. It gave Celestia a bit of a morale boost, encouraging her to press onward. “I’ve been feeling things. Thinking things that don’t belong to my head. It’s as if something is communicating with me, trying to make me do, think, and remember things incorrectly.” There came a quiet hum from her father. “Go on.” His voice was perfectly neutral, and she knew then he was deep in thought. Or trying to keep his feelings hidden. One could never be sure with him. Even so, Celestia pressed on. “I am convinced that Starswirl knows what is going on. He’s… he’s…” Her inner sun blazed. She snorted and stomped, not caring about how she looked. “I can’t remember! Something important. He’s… curses. Twilight would know if—” It clicked, memories rushing back to her in a wave that made itself known by the words bursting from her mouth. “Twilight! Starswirl is dead, and I know this because Twilight and Starswirl cannot exist at the same time! Which could mean so many things. Is Starswirl a revenant? Who would bring him back, and why? And what did they do to Twilight? She’s acting… acting…” Her mother, voice strangely soft compared to her usual bombast, asked, “How is Twilight acting, Tia?” That, at least, was easy to remember. Even with this horrid manipulation of her mind, Celestia doubted she’d ever unsee the look in Twilight’s gaze. Celestia turned to her mother, who hadn’t moved from the corner or opened her eyes. “She was… amorous. Towards me.” A prolonged silence weighed upon her. Her mother didn’t move. Her father watched her from the bed, expression neutral. Of course, they had to be in shock. And why shouldn’t they be? It had certainly came as no small surprise to her. She leaned closer to her mother, ears turned forward in preparation. Her mother chuckled. Her father followed suit. Celestia blinked. “What is so funny?” The flames of her mother’s mane danced as if in reflection of her amusement. At last, the mare opened her eyes and smiled at her. “Oh, Celestia. It took you this long. I knew you were aloof, but really?” “W-what are you—?” Celestia cringed to the sound of her father’s soft laughter. She whirled to face him. “Stop it! Father, this is important!” “I agree wholeheartedly. My dear child, have you any idea how long we’ve been waiting for you to notice? That pony has always been ‘amorous’ towards you.” “That’s not true!” Celestia stomped and immediately regretted it. She was behaving like a startled foal. Clamping her teeth shut tight and taking a few breaths helped to calm the flames of her frustration… some. “Twilight doesn’t love me, not like that. I know she’s always looked up to me, but romance? No, not Twilight. She’s more like… like a child to me. A daughter.” The bed shifted, the indentation that was her father moving to the side of the mattress before disappearing. “Oh, Celestia. Always looking ahead, and never at what is right in front of you.” “He means you’re always missing the obvious,” her mother droned. Celestia tensed at having been told something so blatant, but focused on the more immediate problem. “You can’t honestly tell me that you think Twilight—” A hoof on her shoulder silenced her. She looked to it, and it faded, but her father’s image smiled out the corner of her eye. “We don’t mean to tease. It’s just that this has been a long time coming. You’ve fought for so long, it seems you’ve forgotten what the fight is all about. Twilight would be a wonderful choice for a mate, if you’d only stop and think about it.” “And you should think about it,” her mother said. A glance failed to reveal any motion from her. “How long has it been since you’ve taken on a lover?” Celestia found herself unable to answer. Not because she couldn’t, but because what they were suggesting seemed so… wrong. She stepped back from her father, facing his ever-shifting illusion of a form. “Why aren’t you taking this seriously? How could you possibly think that Twilight, my dear, innocent student, would ever look upon me that way?” “Celestia—” “No!” She turned away with a snort. Panic threatened to rise up like a beast from the depths of an ocean, but Celestia held it back and maintained her calm. There wasn’t anything wrong with her parents. They were just confused, that’s all. She paced the carpeted floor, keeping her scowl in check. “Twilight isn’t interested in that, at least not towards me. I know it. There’s something wrong with her. Is it changelings?” The word stopped her in her tracks. She turned to the balcony, staring out the open door to the night sky. The beast threatened to rise again, and though she beat it back, she still felt her knees wobbling. “Could Twilight have been taken? Chrysalis, she could… could have…” Her mother sighed. “Now you’re just being paranoid. You defeated Chrysalis, remember?” Yes, she did remember. Chrysalis had been brought low. But before she’d left, she’d spoken of… what? Something akin to a warning, or a threat. If it had been a threat… “What did Chrysalis say?” “Who cares what a changeling has to say?” Her mother scoffed. Judging by her haughty tone, she was probably coming out of her meditative state. “All they do is deceive, Celestia. Don’t take it to heart.” “Yes, they do, don’t they?” But even as she said the words, Celestia frowned. It seemed so important now. She looked from star to star, trying to figure out what was wrong. Starswirl being… being something. Twilight acting so strange. Her parents treating it as though it were nothing. Come to think of it, they didn’t seem surprised by any of this. Shouldn’t they be? Her father’s kind voice broke through her thoughts. “Now Celestia, I know this seems sudden. We’ll help you. I’ll go talk with Twilight and smooth this out, and we’ll set up a nice evening for you two, how about that?” He was at her side. He had a wing around her withers. It was comfortable, pleasant. But as she watched him out the corner of her eye, taking in his soft features and pleasant smile, she could only think one thing. “What is wrong with you?” He blinked. A furrow of the brow, a thin line on his lips. The expression of one in deep thought. “I don’t understand, Celestia. What is stopping you from letting Twilight pursue you? Don’t you miss intimacy?” Miss it? Miss… Missing. Celestia turned her gaze back to the sky. Something was still missing. Twilight’s innocence? Starswirl. No, the problem with him had nothing to do with things missing. So why did she feel as if…? Her mother was at her side, opposite her father. “Come on, Celestia. Let’s go inside and talk. Forget about Chrysalis and the changelings.” Chrysalis. Chrysalis had said… what? Celestia couldn’t stop staring at the stars. Something flitted past her vision, something velvety purple. It made her sad, though she couldn’t fathom why. What was missing? Chrysalis. What had Chrysalis said? She closed her eyes and focused, even as her parents pulled her gently from the balcony. The changeling had been raving about something. Something Celestia failed at, something that seemed absurd… They linger in darkness, begging for you to save them, shivering in the cold under the icy glare of a pale moon. Her eyes snapped open, the air exploding from her lungs. Suddenly, Celestia felt cold. She jerked from her parents, who had almost brought her to the door, and ran for the balcony. Placing her forehooves on the railing, she craned her neck back and scoured the night sky. “The moon. Where is the moon?” How long had it been since she’d last raised the moon? Lowered it? Her magic lit up in a flash as she reached into the night sky. “Celestia!” Her father was at her side. “What are you doing? There’s no need for you to—” “I can’t feel it.” She shook her father by the shoulders. “I can’t feel the moon! Where is it, Father? Where is it?” His strong hooves grasped hers, stopping the shaking. “Celestia, you’re not making any sense. How did we go from Twilight being smitten to there being no moon out tonight?” She jerked back from him as if stung. “Did you not hear me? I said there is no moon! It can’t have just disappeared!” Her mother stepped closer, trying to get a wing around her withers. “Calm down, Celestia. It’s not important. Twilight is—” “Not important? What is wrong with you two? Luna is—” Celestia felt as if she’d been rammed by a stampeding buffalo. The familiar name echoed in her skull again and again. “Luna.” It felt good to say, like she’d been held back for ages and the dam had finally burst. She focused her eyes upon the star-studded night sky. She had forgotten. Her only sister, lost for who knew how long? Along with her moon. Her ears folded back, and she felt her knees shaking. How could she have forgotten somepony so important? The pony she used to pine for every night, racked with guilt and loss and… and… Luna had been banished to the moon. If the moon was gone… “Who’s Luna?” Veins turned to ice. Slowly, Celestia turned to her mother. The mare stared at her, ears perked and head tilted just slightly in a baffled expression. Her father possessed a look very similar. Her mother’s innocuous question loomed over her, a shadow forcing her to recognize the danger she was in. She backed away from her parents. Her voice cracked, but she hardly noticed. “Don’t ask me that.” Her mother’s eyebrows became a flat line. “You’re the one who brought it up.” “Celestia, sweetheart?” Her father took a cautious step closer. “What’s wrong? Who is Luna?” There it was again, that horrible question! Celestia shook her head. Her heart pounded like a hammer against her ribs. “You don’t know. You don’t know your own daughter.” “What do you mean, ‘we don’t know you’?” Her mother’s wings fidgeted and flexed. “Of course we know you.” “Luna,” she whispered. “Luna was your daughter. How can you forget her? H-how could I forget her?” Her breathing came in short gasps. She looked to the sky once more, but the moon remained hidden from her. “Oh, dear sister, I am so sorry.” “You are unwell, Celestia.” She felt her father’s hoof on her shoulder. When had he gotten so close? “Come, let’s go inside. I’ll contact a doctor and—” “I am not the one who is unwell!” She shoved his hoof away and backed to the railing. Her vision blurred with hot tears. “You too. I-it got to you too. Is all of Canterlot like this?” “Celestia, please.” That voice startled her out of her near-panic. It was so… frightened. Her mother should never sound like that. She gazed upon the mare, who sat with her forelegs folded to her chest. Her mother’s lips trembled as she leaned a little closer, eyes imploring. “Please. This isn’t a path you want to walk down.” The hoof was back. Her father leaned in, running his neck alongside hers. It was so… so warm. But what he said next made her feel empty. “There is no Luna. There never was.” No Luna. Did he really believe that? As his wing wrapped around her, her eyes remained locked on her mother’s. The mare nodded. Gently. Encouragingly. She smiled. But the fear remained in her eyes. Did they really want her to believe that her dear sister, the pony she’d nurtured and raised in their absence, didn’t exist? They wanted her to believe that— Her own thoughts hit her. The panic came next, and then the spell. Her horn emitted a blast of golden yellow light, and the shockwave sent her parents sprawling into the room. Without apology or hesitation, she turned and leapt off the railing, wings spread wide and tears running down her cheeks. “Celestia? Celestia, stop!” “Don’t go!” Their voices faded as she flew. Before long they were drowned out by the wind in her ears and her own sobs. Her parents had been gone for so long! What cruel puppet master was behind this horrid world, that they would use the likeness of them against her? Their voices, so perfect. Their bodies, exactingly recreated. But no less gone. Her memories were not false! But the sound of them, the sight of them had been so sweet. No. She wouldn’t go back. They were doppelgangers or, worse, revenants. Somepony was abusing them or at least their image to deceive her, and she would root them out. They’d pay for this insult! Abusing Starswirl, manipulating Twilight, using her parents against her… Whatever foul creature was behind this, it had crossed the line. Yet, as her emotions began to wind down and her mind focused on the problem, her confidence dwindled. After rubbing her eyes free of stinging tears, she looked back to the dark city of Canterlot. Why had she not seen how… black the city had become? Almost as if it had died, the inhabitants little more than toys created to sing her praise. Her ears twitched against the wind. A familiar sound… a bird call. Slowing, Celestia dropped down to land on a cloud. Not a moment later, a Seashore Nightingale flew past. She blinked as it dawned upon her that it may be the same one she’d seen earlier. It circled back over her head, so close she ducked on instinct. It sang its beautiful song, but the notes were fast, chaotic and harsh. And then Celestia remembered; she’d not just seen it tonight. As the bird flew past once more, she ventured a guess as to its purpose, ludicrous though it seemed. “Have you been trying to tell me something?” To her surprise, the bird instantly changed course. It dropped down to land on her horn, her head tilting down slightly under the added weight. Crossing her eyes, Celestia tried to focus on it. The creature watched her with piercing blue eyes. Perhaps it really could understand. Was it another diversion, sent by whatever forces were behind her troubles to keep her from learning the truth? Or maybe it was something else entirely. Celestia considered the bird’s brilliant blue and purple plumage and the way her horn sparkled from the stardust that continued to fall from it. It was truly a magnificent creature. She had no idea what to do next, and she’d seen crazier things in her life than a helpful nightingale. “What are you trying to tell me?” The bird leapt from her horn, jarring her somewhat, and flew off – due west. It sang as it flew, the song urgent. Celestia watched, uncertain. Why west? Maybe she really was going crazy, and the bird was just a bird. But she no had idea how to solve her dilemma. The nightingale gave her a direction. And even if nothing came of it, at least she’d be away from the very real threat that resided somewhere in Canterlot. Her mind made up, Celestia spread her wings and launched off the cloud in pursuit.