They returned with a deafening boom of thunder that shook the mountains, and with a flash of light that filled the heavens — just as the prophecy foretold.
…And the Sun and Moon shall return to Equestria, and the sky shall open to receive them. And the very ground will tremble and shake at the Goddesses' blinding glory as they descend from the heavens on their celestial chariot…
And as that day finally arrived after so many moons, it came without warning, sudden and loud. The clouds parted, recoiling from the thunder, the bright afternoon sun sweeping over the great mountain and all beneath its stony and towering presence. But even such light as righteous as the holy sun, the charge of the white goddess, was drowned out by the vision of their chariot.
It descended through the pale blue atmosphere, shrouded in smoke and searing flame, like the maw of a great dragon, and its roar was heard far and wide. And what a magnificent chariot it was, shining with silver and polished alabaster and windows of thick, clear crystal.
And its name was Orion, and it carried a crest of red and white stripes with a blue field of stars. And among the strange runes on its surface was “USA.”, though their meaning was lost to everypony. Surely such a chariot could only transport the mightiest of creatures: the two Goddesses with both wing and horn.
The chariot slowed as it neared the firma, it's surface untouched by the flames that spewed in roiling waves beneath it. And its magic was strong. Hot winds whipped across the valley, the chariot hovering over their creation they had been absent from for so long. Now, they were back, home at last to bring in the new era of everlasting harmony and glory under their righteous reign. That was our hope.
The chariot, content with its surroundings, landed among the tall grasses. Thin legs like that of a bird unfurled from its side and planted themselves atop the fertile soil. And as the thunder subsided, and the fires receded, and quiet was upon the land again, the birds resumed their afternoon chorus from the stretching treetops and the bugs hummed along in unison. Smoke wafted from the charred ground around the ethereal vehicle. It was whisked away on the sweet breeze of blossoming flowers and spring nectar.
For but a moment, nopony moved, nopony blinked, nopony dared to step from hiding. For even the mightiest of us trembled at the sight of the chariot. What would anypony say? What would anypony do when such ordinary ponies could finally gaze upon deities so powerful, sun and moon bent to their righteous will? Would the Goddesses return with open, merciful hooves, or damning judgment?
Like the throaty hiss of an ancient hydra, the door of the chariot slid away, a shroud of mist pouring from inside. Everypony held their breaths, watching in eager anticipation from where they hid.
Then suddenly, there she was! The ivory-white alicorn!
She emerged from the chariot, standing on her two hind legs. She towered over all from the doorway of the slivery chariot. Her eyes scanned the tree lines, but nopony could meet her gaze; a veil of mirrored gold concealed her face.
And such strange garments the Goddess wore, thick and bulky barding the same milky shade as we knew her coat to be. A pair of hoses, like snakes, protruded from the chest of the garment, trailing to a hard-cased saddlebag slung on her back.
Then, another figure, a shorter, but nonetheless magnificent creature in the same garment, yet blue as deep as the ocean waters. Her face, too, was hidden behind a mirror of golden glass. The wings, we did not immediately see, for we assumed them to be covered by the large saddlebag of hoses and wires and tiny lights. Tiny lights that blinked and twinkled like the stars of her night sky.
…Moon and Sun, together as One…
Nopony knew what to make of their bombastic entrance, or why they hid their faces, or of their strange manners, but there was no doubt it was them. The Goddesses had returned.
And then, as if to proclaim their arrival, the Moon Goddess spoke. And her voice was like crackling fire…
“I think we’re being watched, Commander.” The scientist shifted from leg to leg under her clumsy suit, scanning the tree line with her equipment. “There is something out there. Lots of them.”
“I can see them,” Commander Liz assured her companion, her voice steady and calm. “Just stay calm, Astra,” she instructed. “Don’t make any sudden moves.”
“This wasn’t part of the plan,” Astra replied through her helmet, sweeping the instrument in her hand back and forth. “I’m reading close to fifty of them, maybe more. Definitely biological.”
Liz reached back and placed a steady hand on her companion. She could feel Astra's body was tense like a spring underneath, as if ready to leap back inside the ship at any second.
Extra-terrestrial organics were no strangers to Liz, but the sheer bounty and variety of it around her was both astounding and frightening: the crackling trees in the breeze, the humming bugs, twittering birds, and their silent observers. So many eyes were upon them.
“Houston screwed up big time. I mean it, Liz,” Astra hissed feverishly at her. Her helmet twitched from the tree line and then back to her equipment and the unidentified signatures. “They told us a rock, an empty rock. Long-range scans were completely off.”
Commander Liz stretched a section of her white pressure suit back, exposing atmospheric readings on a small display. She scanned over the texts, sharp eyes darting back and forth inside her helmet. “Sensors read a nitrogen-rich environment. Twenty percent oxygen. Carbon dioxide levels are a little high, but it shouldn't be more than a slight headache.”
“It’s a gamble,” Astra tried to warn her. “Let me do my job, Liz. I should run more tests before we determine it safe.” But Liz was already unlatching her helmet.
“They would have approached us by now if they had even the slightest hint of hostility. We need to show them we don’t mean any harm.”
With an audible and heavy click, the helmet twisted away, her face no longer hidden behind the gold-coated visor.
Immediately strange mutters and murmurs and gasps could be heard from the bushes and behind the trees.
The Commander brushed a sun-bleached strand of blonde hair from her face, tucking it into the tight bun wrapped at the base of her skull. She squinted in the light of the foreign sun and watched, enthralled, as one of the creatures poked its head out from the tree line.
Two big eyes gazed at her with awe and wonder; the equine-like creature slowly slinked from its hiding spot. Then, another from a bush, a spiraling horn protruding from the top of its head. Another two more flittered out the treetops on feathery wings, touching down softly among the growing herd of creatures. And their coats were an array of color, every shade and hue Liz could imagine.
“I don’t like this,” Astra repeated her concern, stowing the thermal reader. “We should return to orbit, take further readings to make sure this place is safe. We don't have the slightest scrap of data on what we're walking into.”
With a short hop, the Commander vaulted off the ship’s embarkation deck. “It’s fine. Come on,” Liz insisted. “Or would you rather be poking in a puddle of microbic sludge for your data?”
She watched the scientist survey her surroundings again nervously but finally relented. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Astra muttered quietly. “Where is the respect for remote and scientific observation and data collection?” She reluctantly followed suit, removing her helmet, her short blue hair washing over her slender neck like a waterfall.
Liz slowly bent down on her knees, trying to coax one of the creatures forward. “Don’t be shy, little one. We don’t mean any harm.”
“Is that a good idea?” Astra begged to question, scanning the clearing with various instruments from her science pouch. She was keeping her distance. “It might bite.”
But the little equine was already taking a tentative step toward the silvery-white astronaut, tenderly and slowly stepping one hoof after the other. It reached up, gently touching the fabric of the Commander’s suit before recoiling with a gasp, but a grin.
“Etrallan Celeste drak makkan frasia,” it turned and said in a strange, garbled tongue to its scores of comrades. Immediately, profound elation swept through the colorful creatures. “Celeste! Celeste! Celeste!” The word rang like a chorus through them, filling them with what Liz could only imagine to be glee. It lit up their wide eyes. “Celeste entutamanken LaLuna!”
“LaLuna!” Several of them pointed ecstatically toward Astra, rushing to meet her.
They crowded around her legs, causing the woman to wince and recoil uncomfortably as the creatures reached out for her blue pressure suit. “LaLuna! LaLuna!” they cried in unison.
“I think they like you,” Liz chuckled, several of the creatures tugging at her legs in an attempt to get the human to follow.
“Well, it seems I don't need a scientific consensus to see their species doesn’t have a concept of personal space,” she said. One of the winged creatures clung to her arm, pulling her along as well. She tried shaking it off to no avail.
“I think they want us to follow them,” Commander Liz remarked at the equines dancing around her legs, allowing them to guide her along.
“I’d much rather stay with the ship,” Astra groaned. “Besides, I have a full panel of scientific data to collect. There isn’t time to go gallivanting off. Besides, you know it’s against protocol.”
“Won’t you live a little?” she poked at the pouting academic. “We expect to find a desolate rock and we stumble upon an overlooked paradise. Do you want to waste time on soil samples and atmosphere gauging, or do you want to learn more about these little wonders?”
With a begrudging grumble and an exaggerated huff, she finally relented. “Fine,” Astra quipped. “But only because splitting up is against protocol. Somebody has to watch your back around these little cretins.”
“Well that’s kind of the spirit,” Liz admitted. It was as good of a blessing as she would get.
The equines resonated with another cheer as the blue astronaut trudged alongside them through the tree line.
Passing through the treeline, grassy pastures and meadows stretched before them like lush, green carpet, and the sky was filled with avians. Through the sweet-smelling air, they twisted and flew, the equines with wings joining their feathered friends in a display of aerial acrobatics. Up and up, they sailed, Commander Liz craning and straining her neck to follow them. And her breath escaped her at what she saw.
“My God,” Liz gasped. “Either there is something in the air, and I’m seeing things, or we just hit the freaking jackpot, Astra.”
“Yeah,” Astra chuckled as her face stretched into a rare grin. “Houston is going to get a kick out of this.”
Like a giant guarding the valley floor, the city was perched high on the soaring mountainside. It dominated the land, clinging to an outcrop a few hundred acres across, thousands of feet above them. A waterfall roared like a beast, shooting from the outcrop in a torrent and collecting in a slithery river across the valley. And towers of white and purple and shimmering gold reflected high above in the late afternoon sun.
Astra was already pulling out a camera, snapping picture after picture as she tried and failed to contain her excitement. “This is big Liz, really big. None of the other expeditions have found anything this big. Nothing more than primitive life forms in anything other than caves or mud huts. We may be looking at the first indications of a classical civilization here,” she giggled.
But Liz caught by the vision of the great city, unable to give a hint of recognition to the science officer snapping pictures wildly beside her. “Wow. Just…wow.”
She could have stood there all day, neck craned, and have admired the magnificent structures from below.
But the little creatures were insistent that the two travelers follow. They pushed them eagerly toward a path at the base of the mount leading higher.
"A closer look, perhaps?" wondered Astra.
Liz nodded. "So much for protocol."
Up and up and up, they climbed, their company of merry hosts singing in their tongue and skipping and trotting and flying through the air. Astra continued her documentation, snapping pictures and collecting the odd sample, even going so far as to pluck several loose hairs from the coat of one of the creatures into a clear plastic bag. It gave a startled gasp, muttering several incoherences.
It was some time into the trek when one of the creatures approached the Commander. Liz was breathing heavily from the steep climb, but she was delighted when the young creature presented her with a band of woven flowers. They were pulled tight in a circlet.
The equine had a soft jawline, thick eyelashes and a bountiful mane of shiny, orange curls. The horn on its forehead glowed, even in the bright sunlight, and before Liz could stop, the flower crown lifted into the air. A thin haze of shimmering particles, a pallet of colorful light, enveloped it. Liz remained as still as a statue and in quiet amazement as the circlet was levitated and placed gently atop her head.
“Pritsesnet trella dut Celeste,” the creature spoke softly, giving a reverent bow before her. It then hurried off to join the pack leading the way in front.
The same courtesy was repeated for Astra, the astronaut graciously accepting her own floral arrangement atop her blue locks.
“L-like magic,” Liz whispered.
“A realm of physics we cannot even begin to wrap a head around,” Astra offered.
Higher still, they climbed. The sun had long passed its zenith, now making the trek down toward the distant horizon. The two astronauts legs were tired from hiking in their suits, the weighty packs on their back filled with precious oxygen and essential supplies and equipment. But they pushed on.
Here and there, the occasional patch of cobblestone peeked through the rich layer of dirt. The path had once been paved, and expertly too, Astra pointing out the precisely cut rock.
But the ravages of time and neglect were slowly reclaiming what had once been built probably long ago, slowly swallowing the road until it was nothing more than a dirt rut once more under Liz's boots.
Thunk
Liz nearly stumbled, but caught herself, her heavy boot striking a dull metal ridge hidden beneath the dirt. A shorter step and she would have walked over it without even noticing. Another thick length of rusted metal could barely be seen just a step ahead, enshrouded in grass and shrubs that blanketed the mountain path.
Liz followed the parallel lines with her eyes, the twin rails running around a steep bend in the mountain. She dug at the ground between them with the heel of her boot, revealing a weathered and rotting square timber. It was a crosstie.
“I might be crazy,” she told Astra. “But those look like railroad tracks.”
“I don’t know,” she muttered. “Doesn’t look like they’ve seen a train in decades, maybe more.”
But there was no time to stop and wonder, for their hosts were very eager to show them what lay ahead, so along the path they climbed, ushered onward.
There were only a few hours of sunlight left when the path led them away from the ridge and onto flatter ground, though the peak still towered higher above them.
Far below, Liz followed the valley. It rolled into the distant woodlands and further still into smothering thicket and mesas of rock red with iron in the distance. The sound of water rushing like a torrent told them that they were close to the falls they had observed from below. They were nearly there. The city would be just over the next hilltop.
Liz’s heart beat like a booming marching drum, thrumming with excitement. It would be the achievement of a lifetime, she reminded herself. The first recorded higher civilization the expedition program had ever discovered. Intelligence on the same predestined path as their own, a short distance behind compared to the stretches of cosmic time.
The second the towers came into view, and they crested the hill, such thoughts immediately evaporated. And Liz felt like she would be sick.
"No," Astra quietly gasped.
Now they could see the tremendous, white metropolis, and they saw that the city was dead. What had once been a city built for gods, was little more than a shell of cracked marble and overgrown and crumbling stonework.
The perimeter wall had fallen in sections, mounds of rubble buried and reclaimed by the highland carpet of grass. A large gate lay rotting on the ground before them, monstrous hinges of iron hanging where they once stood, resilient no more. The drawbridge had collapsed long ago into the water that flowed down the mountain peak and over the edge.
But scavenged boards and the odd timber had been strung together, providing a rickety crossing over the exposed metal strappings of the drawbridge left behind.
Neither of the two astronauts spoke — no words were exchanged. The ecstasy had faded and the atmosphere was somber, but their curiosity remained and pushed them forward. They had already come this far.
Liz took the first tentative step onto the makeshift planks, testing the weight. The boards and timbers creaked but held. Slowly they inched their way across, their hosts bouncing like springs from board to board, oblivious to the rushing water beneath them ready to sweep them off the mountain.
Liz could spot one of the chains that once held the bridge aloft that had been swept into the river. It lurked beneath the water like an obsidian snake, waiting to prey on those that crossed its domain. She quickly returned her eyes to the rotting planks, crossing the last one in two bounding steps
It would be more than a minute after they reached the other side, and firm ground, that Liz's heart stopped trying to leap out of her chest. She could see Astra's knees were weak, her legs quivering beneath her. Both were winded from the ordeal and the long trek, but the ancient streets of the ruined city were now before them, beaconing them to enter the carcass of what once was.
As they walked the streets of the neglected city, Liz marveled at the design and detail of the buildings and abodes weathering away to dust around them — high, barreled archways of stone, mezzanines of now-dulled marble and quartz, and towers of alabaster. But even as everything slowly eroded to nothing around them, signs of life still emerged from the dim interiors. One by one, more of the equine-like creatures poked their heads from broken balcony and crumbling doorway. Their arrival had garnered a reaction from the remaining populace.
“Retraturned!” one of their guides called out with great excitement. “Celeste entutamanken LaLuna retraturned!”
The announcement was immediately met with outstanding ovation. “Celeste! LaLuna!” the inhabitants called out in the streets, joining the procession as the procession continued further into the heart of the endless ruin.
Here and there the inhabitants had carved out small dwellings for themselves amongst the stonework. Fallen walls were roughly patched with mud and rubble to keep out the elements, and small fire pits roughly chiseled into the marble floors lit their interiors.
“Celeste! LaLuna!” their hosts kept chanting, multitudes of them now filling the streets.
“What do you think they keep saying?” Astra struggled to ask over the commotion. “What does it mean?”
“Well, if I had to guess, I think they’re referring to them,” Liz said and pointed, her eyes locked ahead.
The parade had reached a large square, the creatures spreading out to line the sides. And in the center, two figures towered over all of them.
They were huge, and surprisingly well maintained. Probably the only thing preserved by the inhabitants. Like two great guardians with outstretched wings and elongated horns, they stood before a massive temple of white marble and flaking gold filigree. And on the statues, one borne a crescent, and the other, a sun.
But before either woman could make further comment, from out the dissolving temple, a single occupant emerged, walking out into the last rays of the waning sunset. The temple doors boomed as he descended the crumbling stairs. He had an air of authority about him, the crowd reverently turning their attention to him, meeting his intense green eyes. The creature stopped before them, giving a long gracious bow.
“Celeste,” he said in a quiet, soft voice, hoof extended to Liz. “LaLuna,” his hoof moved to the science officer. “Pavo,” he then gestured to himself, touching his orange-coated chest — clearly a welcome and introductions.
“Those words?” Astra began. “Celeste, LaLuna. They keep on saying them.”
“I thought they were referring to them,” Liz replied, pointing to the statues of the two reverent beings.
“Are you sure they aren't referring to us?”
Liz had to admit, the thought, though however strange, was beginning to make sense.
“You might just have something there, Astra,” she admitted, noting the emblem of a sun and a moon chiseled into the breasts of the two creatures glorified in stonework. Not unlike their expedition patches sewn onto their suits. Liz rubbed a gloved hand over the patch, the threads of the embroidered sun and moon. And slight similarities as well shared between the two astronauts the Commander noticed. Little things. Maybe something in the face or cheeks. Or something in the chiseled, stony eyes.
“You starting to see what I’m seeing?” Astra wondered.
Liz watched as the crowd fell on bended knees along with “Pavo”, his green eyes turned to their feet.
“It sure looks like it,” Liz said, giving her a wary look. “You remember how the Aztecs heralded the Spanish Conquistadors as Gods?”
She nodded. “I remember reading it in a history lesson once. Treated them like earthly kings, giving them gold and silver.”
“Well, if memory serves me correct, it didn’t turn out so well for the Spanish in the end. Not when the Aztecs discovered the Spanish to be men, just like them. Bleed, just like them.”
“Are you anticipating these little guys to draw spears on us then?” Astra scoffed.
“Let’s just keep both eyes open. And stay close. That’s all. Just play along with them.”
“I hope this is the right idea,” Astra groaned through a false smile.
Pavo stood up, turning back to the anxious throngs of creatures. “Fasteal!” he proclaimed loudly, to a jubilant reply.
Immediately tables large and small were pulled into the square. Many looked to be heirlooms, intricately carved and inset with precious stone, meticulously maintained. Others were nothing more than a rough cobble of scraps. But none of the creatures paid attention as they went about joining all into a massive banquet table that stretched the length of the square. Chairs, too, were brought out in the same manner.
Both astronauts watched as two thrones of marble and shiny metal were carefully levitated out of the white temple by several of the creatures with horns. Gently, they were set side by side at the head of the table, right next to Pavo.
“Celeste, LaLuna. Comethe.” He motioned them over as the smell of food wafted through the air, carried to the square in the evening air. Even on a planet so foreign and strange, so far outside of inhabited space, the smell of hot, cooked food was unmistakable.
Liz's mouth watered at the thought of food, something other than their protein packs and dried rations. It looked innocent enough when it arrived: greens, plants, some kind of fruit perhaps. A glance at Astra's scanner gave Liz her answer. They would eat.
Astra and Liz slowly lowered themselves into the thrones, Astra in the one bearing a crescent moon, and the Commander in the one embossed with a blazing sun.
And though the feast would run long into the night, and no word would be understood between the two species, it was a night Liz never wanted to forget. A feast to remember. And all the while Pavo watching them intently, following her every move with his intense green eyes.
The high bronze doors, tarnished and pitted by the ages, swung open on buckling hinges. A dark cavern, the ceiling, loomed overhead, stonework arches rising several stories upward into the gloom. Polished marble had cracked and splintered with the restless shifting of the mountain and columns lay where they had fallen, like uprooted trees after a gale.
The procession followed the stuffed and sated newcomers into the temple, several hurrying ahead and igniting wall sconces of oil with their horns. Those with wings darted in and out of the arches with the grace of birds, clearing the musty air and brushing away the cobwebs.
Astra leaned heavily on Liz. She could hardly walk straight as she snapped pictures, the flash of her camera illuminating the darkened corners of the ancient structure and blinding several of the creatures.
Liz was full and tired and exhausted to the point she swayed as she walked, Astra's weight borne on one side, but everything she saw relit the fire of excitement within her.
“My God, it's like we hit the lottery, Liz," Astra murmured through a yawn. "Houston is going to have parades for us when we bring this documentation back.”
“How old do you think it is?” Liz asked, marveling at the architecture.
“Hard to tell really,” she said with a shrug as she continued her documentation. “The structure appears hundreds, maybe thousands of years old. I’ll have to run some tests.”
“It seems like it was abandoned, like everything else.”
“Cultures have their ups and downs. Technologies and sciences are lost, then rediscovered, then lost again. It is a good possibility these are only the descendants of a once-great civilization — living in the ruin of their former glory — their previous accomplishments weathered away or lost in translation to the passage of time.”
“Like ghosts,” Liz remarked, a shiver traveling up her spine. The room was cold, the air chilling. She turned up the heater on her suit to quickly ward it off.
The one named Pavo stopped in a deep antechamber, two doors before him, either one bearing the familiar crescent and sun.
“Restmanastera,” he said, laying his head against his hoof. The meaning was clear enough. They would be sleeping here tonight.
“Don’t plan on taking separate rooms tonight, are you Liz?” Astra wondered aloud.
“I was hoping you would think the same,” the Commander said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Today has been…taxing,” she admitted, feeling the burnout hitting her like a barrel of bricks. “We can get up early and make the trip back down to the Orion for more supplies and equipment. I don’t think we packed enough to even begin documenting everything we found.”
Pavo swung the door with the sun open, standing reverently aside for the two to enter. “Restmanastera Celeste entutamanken LaLuna,” he told them, bidding them farewell, his piercing, green eyes disappearing with a soft click.
The first thing Liz noticed was the lack of dust. The room had been kept spotless while everything else crumbled away around the equine creatures. A bed fit for a queen was situated in the center, surrounded by mementos and ornaments.
But Liz was much too tired to look around. She stumbled toward the bed, stripping from her pressure suit to her thermal layer. She passed odd curios arranged on dressers and bureaus: a fireishly bright orange feather, yellowed and moth-eaten scrolls, an ivory hairbrush, and a sagging pointed hat of stars and bells.
It was all too much to examine tonight. Liz was fading fast between the banquet full of strange, yet tantalizing dishes, and the arduous afternoon trek. Groggily, she slipped between the aging but soft bedding, laying her tired head on one of the fluffy pillows. The moment she could feel Astra lie beside her, Liz was already drifting into a deep and fitful sleep.
It was a sleep unlike any she had ever had before — a strange sleep filled with smoke, and phantoms, and Goddesses.