//------------------------------//
// Through Fire 
// Story: The Golden Alicorn of the Sun 
// by Georg 
//------------------------------//

The ship was gold.

The ship was also fire, and ice, and love, and friendship, and courage, and a thousand other things, but although they could not come up with a name they could all agree on, gold was obvious.  The giant spaceship rising into the sky above Equestria on a pillar of flame and smoke was hope given physical form, a desperate gamble, a second fling of the cosmic dice with the forlorn wish of all involved that the sacrifice of their beloved Princess of the Sun would not demand a similar sacrifice for her safe return.

If she could be returned.

Although the golden ship was fire as it ascended, the metal walls inside were slick with ice, and liquids colder than pony imagination coursed through metal arteries and veins.  Bundled in their insulated suits, ponies and yaks and griffons and all other races hunched over their machines and gauges, watching for the slightest imperfections.  In the very core of the golden vessel, floating in a pool of liquid air, the Princess of the Moon held the shadow of her domain across the ship’s protective surface of glistening gold.  She was the first to call for the ship to be constructed, first to reach out to all of the races of Equestria with her desperate plea, and first to board, lowering her body into the liquid pool with her eyes closed and her heart open to all who trusted her moon’s protection on their dangerous journey.  

Where they were going, even that promise would not be enough. 

On the bridge, brother and sister sat together in silence, one to raise his magical shield around the ship when they approached their destination, and one to bend over her intricate calculations, measuring and estimating, because locating their elusive destination made finding a needle in a haystack a near certainty by comparison.

Below them, as the glitter of gold vanished into the darkness of space, the Princess of Love continued to watch with her foal under one wing.  If this gamble failed, she would lose both friends and family, but she refused to shed a tear, for true love was a beacon, and if her family and friends survived their mission, she would be the light they would follow to return.  With or without the only mare she dared think of as mother.

Onward the golden vessel flew, growing closer to the sun’s warming rays while the crew of mismatched creatures drew together over their practiced tasks.  Changelings chittered as their crystalline forms of ice began to shimmer with heat, scuttling around the workponies who brought new cooling devices into action.  Yaks bulking in their insulated suits shoved against massive valves to let liquid air circulate through the mechanical veins of the ship, blast into vapor against the sun-warmed hull, and crush back into liquid again.

And still the sun grew closer, until even the crew in the interior spaces could feel the warmth against the walls, and the howling of the fire outside filtered around the constant rumble of the pumps that kept them all alive.  

There had been enemies among their numbers at one time, changeling queen and broken-horned unicorn, flamboyant performer and fanatic equalist, even diminutive young pegasus and failed unicorn student.  There were no enemies now, or at least until their mission was complete.  They each held their own personal reason for contributing to the mission, whether to assuage their own guilt, complete a long journey of redemption, or merely the vengeful fury of refusing to allow some other force of the cosmos to destroy the Princess of the Sun before they could.  Something far greater drew them all together now, something several of them would rather die than admit even while the ship’s supporting girders groaned with the strain and the lash of fire on the softening hull grew more powerful.

The roar of vaporizing gas was deafening, muted only slightly as a shield formed around the ship.  Powerful enough to cover a city, it was a trivial thing to the power of the sun, but sufficient for the bubbling of the golden hull to cease.

And still the frail golden vessel descended.  

Vast tongues of fire arced away from the sun’s surface, each of them powerful enough to not only wipe out the ship with only a tiny fraction of their power, but their homeworld also.  At the helm, a pegasus with unsurpassed skills drove the ship between those deadly jets of plasma and death.  This was not the time for flamboyant maneuvers, because a single crash would destroy them all.  Habits drilled into her head by her fellow Wonderbolts ruled the maze of death, allowing them to draw even closer to their unseen destination.

And then…

The gods of the sky are jealous of their powers.  Chaos had offered his assistance in their mission by removing himself to a place far away, but even his absence did not prevent misfortune.  All it took was a failed sensor, a moment of distraction, the overconfidence of a plan going as it should.  The tip of a tongue of fire licked against the ship, piercing the shield of love and shadow as if it were tissue paper.  The golden skin of the ship did not simply melt, it turned to vapor in a long stripe, exposing the ice inside and sending creatures tumbling out into the burning void as the frozen atmosphere vented.

The disaster happened too fast for anypony to stop, but the falling crew were grabbed by both unicorn spells and the stabbing tentacles of the changeling queen, who ripped her protective suit to ribbons in order to snag the screaming crewmembers before they too exploded into molten vapor.  The entire ship shuddered with the impact, resonating to the cries of the injured and the terrible rending of the vessel’s golden skin.

Without hesitation, the remaining crew flung themselves into action while the engines spluttered and died.  Kirin and dragons working together heaved spare panels of gold into place, straight into the excruciating heat of the sun without regard for their own safety.  Even though both races possessed a legendary resistance to fire, the scouring plasma of the sun was no mere flame.  Burnished scales and blazing hide charred under the brief exposure where their protective suits failed, and even though the ship resounded with their screams of pain, not one creature faltered in their duty.  

The protective bulwark of their sacrifice allowed the rest of the crew to surge forward, horns blazing with magic in order to make the most of the scant time they had been given.  Changelings and unicorns welded and strapped the patches into place, using their spells to fuse the ship’s golden skin until no gaps remained in their armor against the deadly storm of plasma raging outside.

While the crew fought to save the wounded ship, others gathered the scorched and burnt casualties as fast as possible, and stuffed them into pods filled with changeling goo.  Even the cursing changeling queen, shedding burnt chitin and frostbitten flesh in equal chunks, was forced into a hibernation pod of her own, and the prince of yaks stood guard over the entrance to make sure she remained inside.

Their lives were safe, but only for the moment.  For flesh and hide would take far longer to heal than the skin of the ship, which was rapidly buttressed and braced against a second blow.  Ponies skidding in the puddles of melting ice worked hard as they could to make the engine function again, heaving open crates of spare parts and cutting away damaged equipment.  At the head of them all, a pony most known for growing apples brought her mismatched team together, focusing their efforts where they would do the most good and praying that their efforts would not be in vain.

The ship fell deeper into the fire.  Down and down, through the streamers of lashing plasma and into the crushing embrace of the sun.

With splutters and pops of thrust, the golden ship sluggishly dodged its way through the swirling maelstrom.  Where chance had scored a bubbling scar against its fragile hide, chance now cradled the vessel in good fortune, although the pilot would be first to take credit for her intent use of every spark and pop from the wavering engines.  

One patched and repaired circuit at a time, the crew fought their replacement parts into the charred spaces carved into the vulnerable guts of the golden ship.  One small bit after another, their race against time was won, and the powerful engine of the ship was again made whole. With that victory came welcome thrust, spitting out in fits and starts until the roar of power once again pressed the crew against the decks, and a ragged cheer swept through the ship.  Battered but not beaten, with crew still patching the last of the bubbling gash in the hull and one frantic seamstress patching the lifesaving suits of the injured crew, the ship resumed its descent.  

Through some fluke, there was an upwelling from the sun’s burning core that made a temporary sanctuary of their course, hotter than ever before but at least without having to endure the lash of energetic plasma arcs.  They had barely begun to descend into the hellish heat when another cry rang out from the isolated and filtered observer station, barely loud enough to be heard.

It was her.

Buoyed aloft on the upwelling of solar plasma, the Princess of the Sun floated limply in the embrace of her beloved celestial body.  It was too early for celebration.  The ship still needed to descend even closer to the heat that threatened to turn them all into a simple puff of vapor, and even if they were able to reach her, it was possible that the tragic sacrifice that Celestia had offered to reignite her failing sun had been fatal.

Every member of the crew bent to their tasks with renewed vigor, trying not to think of the unthinkable.  The support members of the ship groaned with stress while the engines roared defiance against the crushing forces of gravity and turbulent plasma.  The theoretical limits of the vessel had been surpassed some time ago, and the only thing holding it together was the dogged determination of the crew and a complete disregard for the laws of physics.  Ever so carefully, the ship maneuvered closer and closer to the limp form.  The motions they could see might have just been from the flow of plasma keeping her suspended, or they could be a spark of life.  Further down they descended until the pilot could go no deeper into the hungry fire because of the certainty of their destruction.  Engines howled at the end of their power gauges, the golden skin of the ship was shimmering and vaporizing at a dangerous rate, and even another few lengths into the plasma upwelling would have been fatal.

Equilibrium.

Even this eventuality had been planned for.  Moving at a near blur, the mission specialist unlocked the grapple, flipping switches and moving knobs faster than any mortal pony had a right to, and a gripping metal claw descended from the belly of the ship.  More carefully now, she took out her lucky bit and inserted it into the slot of the controls.  There could be only one attempt at this prize, and the claw descended into the swirling plasma below with inevitable steadiness.

Enchanted steel links from the depths of Tartarus glowed white-hot, but refused to bend or warp as the mare manipulated the joystick, dropping the claw closer to their target, then with infinite delicacy, she touched the red button.

And the claw closed.

Every member of the crew held their breath as the chain clattered up, wound back into the belly of the ship far slower than any of their nerves could stand.  And at the end of that chain hung their goal, an alicorn so radiant with light that it was impossible to see just how well the claw was holding her until it finished its ascent, and the golden doors swung closed.

A joyous cry came from the medical pony peering through the window into the insulated chamber, a declaration that the Princess of the Sun survived, but too weak to move and far too hot to approach.

Only then did the crew let out a brief cheer.

But their mission was not over.  The sun is a greedy creature, and was not about to give up ownership of its prize so easily.  The engines of the unnamed ship shrieked as loud as they could, with the throttle controls pressed against the stops so hard they bent.  Despite every effort, the ship remained firmly in place while the golden hull continued to ablate in a haze of vaporized metal.

Then the Alicorn of Friendship lifted her head from the calculations that had guided their path to this point.  There could be no greater friendship than coming together with others who shared your goals, no matter how different they were, no matter the risk.  Voluntarily submitting themselves to the cleansing fire and forged in those flames, the crew had become something more than ever before.  Something wonderful.  Something that would transcend the ages, and become an example to all who came after.

And that friendship… became magic.

Great golden wings spread from the ship, vast expanses of shimmering feathers that caught the solar wind and swept them up.  No mere slog to escape the sun’s immense gravity ensued, but the soaring of joy and the power of harmony.

There may have also been a Solar Rainboom.  Although the pilot took credit.

On a trail of molten gold and rainbow light, the unnamed ship soared into the frozen void between worlds, following a beacon of love to guide them all home.





In the years to come, many histories of this event were written, most reflecting favorably on the writer’s viewpoint.  In some, the pilot of the great ship was a griffon, or the operator of the crane a yak.  Still, they all reflected the great joy celebrated by all of the races of Equestria for the return of their beloved Celestia, and the reuniting of the Royal Sisters.  Again.

And although the great ship launched without a name, every creature within, even the fierce changeling queen from her cocoon, agreed on a name by the time the battered and ragged craft returned from its one and only flight.  Even today, the glittering vessel sits upon a place of honor, in a Canterlot park where every visitor of whatever Equestrian race or beyond knows its story.  Families gather to reminisce as older members tell the tales of their own ancestors, driven by love and friendship and family to do what no creature thought possible.  They take photographs and touch the golden skin of the ship, worn to paper-thin in places and with the warped patches still visible, but they all eventually gather at the plaque by the crumpled tail where the ship landed after its epic journey.


Here we give thanks to those brave heroes
who challenged the impossible to bring back
our Sun and Moon

On this day, we dedicate this memorial to their memory
so that all of the world knows what can be accomplished
with true friendship

The Prometheus