//------------------------------// // Chapter 24 // Story: Double Trouble: The Flaws Within // by Masterius //------------------------------// Chapter Twenty-four “Just who do you—” think you are? Doctor Horse slithered to a stop, his fury instantly vanishing as a little dragon went sprinting past. “Twilight!” Spike screamed in mingled joy and terror, racing towards the bed before skidding to an abrupt stop alongside her recumbent form. However, Spike was not the reason for Doctor Horse’s freezing in place…nor for Nurse Redheart’s equally-frozen immobility. No…that was left for the imposing figure standing in the doorway. “P-p-p-Princess Luna!” Doctor Horse sputtered, exchanging a startled glance with his partner before both genuflected, paying respect and obeisance to the Princess of the Night. “Please, forgive—” Gravely—and silently—ghosting inside, having first held up a forehoof for silence and then gesturing for them to rise, Princess Luna took a moment to glance at the bandage-wrapped and blanket-ensconced alicorn in the bed before returning her attention to the two healers. “How is she?” the Moon Princess inquired, her tone distant and neutral…though, in the depths of chill cyan orbs, the flicker of smoldering embers clearly lurked. As Doctor Horse stuttered his way through the prognosis regarding Miss Sparkle, he slithered to a halt at a regal, silencing hoof. “Will she survive, or not?” Princess Luna clipped. “Ah…yes. Yes, she will,” and again was silenced by a raised hoof. Eyes now flat and opaque, Princess Luna focused on the sedated alicorn. “Good,” she curtly replied, voice leeched of all emotion. “We understand that others have been injured as well?” her tone a statement rather than a question. An icy chill threaded its way through both healers, both at hearing the Royal “We” as well as from her frosty tone and even colder demeanor, unable to fathom what had prompted such a strong, and decidedly antagonistic, reaction. “Y-yes, Your Highness,” Doctor Horse finally replied. “There are three other ponies—pegasi all—who were injured. They—” “Of your courtesy, good nurse,” Princess Luna politely requested of Nurse Redheart, “We would like to see them.” She had already turned and was heading out the door as she curtly bade Doctor Horse farewell, leaving him standing there, shocked and stunned at her abrupt, brusque exit. All along the way as Spike had sought out Princess Luna, all that time, he had kept reminding himself it had not been his Twilight; it had not been Princess Twilight Sparkle whom had fatally teleported. However, that had made him feel, as impossible as it might sound, both better yet even worse; as if he were dismissing Miss Sparkle’s life as inconsequential. He was still anguished knowing that Miss Sparkle was now gone, a victim of instinctive, unplanned and unfocused teleportation driven out of fear. It had been his fault. He should have been able to do something. Push back the crowds. Take control. Something. Anything. Instead, all he had done was just stand there, frozen with indecision; too many choices, too many unknowns. Just stand there and helplessly watch as Miss Sparkle winked out…and never winked back. Oh, but how he’d scanned the skies! How he had scoured the landing pad and adjacent Castle grounds, burgeoning terror adding impetus to that drive. Seconds had become minutes, and anger had started churning along with despair as the slowly dispersing mob had continued with their vitriolic denunciation about the “Imposter”, “Fake”, and “Phony”, wanting nothing more than to rage in return. Didn’t they understand? Somepony had just lost their life! Pushing his way through the throng and ignoring the outbursts and complaints from those shoved past, Spike had headed off to find Princess Luna, needing to report the tragedy to somepony and unable to think of anypony more appropriate.. He could not, however, shake loose the ghouls who tagged along, like sharks scenting blood in the water, and so, by the time he had returned to the Royal Wing hoping to find Her Highness still there, he was followed by a sizable and unwanted entourage. Her pleased and poised expression had vanished within moments upon meeting his eyes, and by the time he stopped before her, Princess Luna was braced for just about anything. “Princess Luna,” he croaked. “It…Twilight…she…” He choked for a moment before forcing out, “Twilight…she…she teleported out…and never reappeared.” Luna just stood there, stunned and frozen, as the physicians’ low hubbub also came to a complete halt, their expressions aghast as Spike’s announcement truly registered. The shock of that statement was so powerful, for an instant she actually forgot that this was not her beloved soul-sib, Princess Twilight Sparkle but, instead, the transplanted analogue Twilight Sparkle, of which Spike was speaking. How do I handle something like this? she felt akin to panic. Where do I even start? How do I comfort? Is that even possible? She felt tremendously guilty—and immediately mortified, her face igniting with ignoble shame—that the focus of her distress was not the loss of a life but was, instead, the very selfish fear of losing the one pony that might have had the answer to her sister’s illness and of repairing the way for Princess Twilight Sparkle’s return. “Spike,” Luna sharply spoke, cutting right through the growing conspirational susurration. Fully focused on the little dragon, ears swiveled forwards as if desperately seeking, “There…there is no mistake?” Before the little dragon could attempt a response, a second clamor came rolling down the corridor. Miserably recalling her pleased excitement of mere minutes ago, I’ll never, ever again tempt the Fates by feeling good about something I’ve done! Now what? Why is Thunderlane here? Even through his grief and misery, Spike was puzzled at seeing the familiar dark grey pegasus. Now what? he thought, unknowingly echoing Princess Luna. Neither had to wonder for long. “There’s—” he panted, breathless from exertion, “There’s been a…terrible accident. Princess Twilight…Blossomforth…Open Skies and Sunshower…have been injured and…are in the hospital!” Sacrificing dignity for expediency, Princess Luna trotted down the corridors with Spike atop her back. Quite obviously, he was an old hand at this, Twilight having clearly “spoiled” him, as his balance was impeccable, aiding, rather than interfering. Reaching her balcony and about to launch into the air for the long glide to Ponyville, she paused just long enough for a suave, smarmy courtier’s whisper to reach her ear and attention. Her subsequent launch was quite energetic, Spike squealing at the unexpected power. Acclimating after a millennium absence had not been easy for Luna. First off had been the lengthy time required to fully recover and recharge, something that—to both Celestia and Luna’s surprise—had actually taken several months. As it turned out, however, that had been the least difficult thing to do. Luna had always had a reputation for being prickly and arrogant, stern and forbidding, and, in many ways, a simple side-to-side comparison between her and her sister spoke volumes. Celestia was taller, with a mass proportional with that additional height, and while Luna was taller than most other ponies, she seemed in the shadow―figurative as well as literal―of her elder sib. Celestia was a gray so light her coat resembled alabaster, while Luna’s coat was a deep blue, and, yes, like it or not, the subliminal effect on a pony between light and dark—hello fiction and fantasy writers!—being nature rather than nurture… (Although, as Luna had unhappily come to learn, nurture quite often played a sordid role in that perception) She was the tactician, her sister the diplomat and strategist. Neither completed the other: they complemented each other. Both of them had played quiet, behind-the-scenes roles as Equestria gradually took form, maturing from the humble beginnings of bickering tribes Tartarus-bent on grinding the others underhoof, to the first true cooperative intertribal union. Well…mostly cooperative, that is. Still working behind the scenes, Celestia and Luna saw their hard work collapse before their very eyes as the precarious peace between the three tribes topple due to a “mysterious blizzard”. Before the sisters could even attempt reconciliation, all three tribes had decamped, leaving the other two to their own devices. Of course, everypony knew that history! And, in fact, celebrated that every year as Hearth’s Warming Eve, the accepted date of Equestria’s true Founding. Just as everypony knew of the Ancient History of Equestria: the founding of the Crystal Empire, the building of the Castle of the Two Sisters, the construction of Canterlot… All neat and sweet and wrapped up with pretty little ribbons. Luna snorted in memory. Their little ponies were so very careful to maintain close watch for enemies without…never really knowing of the true dangers lurking from within. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, however… It had been extraordinarily difficult gradually relaxing the reins of power, permitting their little ponies to begin learning the art of self-governance whilst still being governed by their Diarchs. It was not difficult because of ineptitude on their ponies’ end, for most were quite skilled, eager to learn, and enthusiastic about their duties. Nor had it been due to any obsessiveness “cultism” regarding their Diarchs. No, the actual difficulty had rested square on the shoulders of a very small but very powerful group of ponies: the aristocracy. They had resented—at times very strongly, and vociferously—the loss of their power, prestige, and position—when Princess Celestia and Princess Luna had finally assumed the mantle and crown of the Thrones. Resented that and—as was gradually becoming apparent to her—were not above influencing matters to achieve their end: the toppling of the thrones and the establishment of a plutocratic oligarchy. Princess Celestia had always been the diplomat, the peacemaker; unwilling to contest against the insubordinate nobles and aristocracy who sought to sabotage that precious peace and harmony. And doubly so without the iron strength and fortitude of Princess Luna at her side. Ancient history—well, ‘ancient’ to this generation; for Princess Luna it was still ‘current events’―somehow glossed over that defiance, and as annoying and irksome as she’d found that stubborn foolishness ‘back then’, she had little to no tolerance for what now passed as “modern aristocracy”. They were like spiders, lurking in the shadows. And, like spiders, they had their webs everywhere; silken trigger traps known as courtiers, who were eager for the least tantalizing tidbit to retrieve for their secretive Marechiavellianism Masters and Mistresses. For the most part, that was—mostly—harmless, the lesser aristocracy simply playing the ‘Great Game’ amongst and betwixt each other. For the most part. Her sister was more tolerant, more forgiving, of their “antics”, as she called them, than she would ever be. It was one thing to offer lèse-majesté; Luna was a big mare, she could roll with their feeble attempts at provocation. Conspiracy to commit high treason, and even regicide, on the other hoof… She had never had a chance to co-rule: certainly neither then, nor now. In the beginning, she was still very much the “War Mare” history would later paint her. Because of that, their little ponies found her stern and imposing, nowhere near as approachable as her elder sib had been. That, too, she was uncomfortably aware, had played its part in the Nightmare consuming her. And, currently—and for many the same reasons—their little ponies continued with that reluctance. Due to those circumstances, however, Princess Luna was ill-equipped and poorly-armed and armored for the more genteel skills of Diplomacy. Celestia might be past Mistress of playing that balancing act with them, but Luna, on the other hoof, was suffering with two major hooficaps: one, she still was learning whom the major players were, and, two, she couldn’t deal with them in the same, direct manner that had been her wont a millennia ago. So she was left to other devices, those more suitable for her diplomatic sibling: It has been impossible to keep the knowledge that Celestia has been afflicted from becoming public knowledge, as that occurred quite publicly in the middle of Morning Court. Canterlot, so far, has remained calm, but unless they see Celestia back on her throne soon, it will not be long at all until the citizens become restless and worried. If the knowledge that Equestria has also lost Princess Twilight Sparkle, our newest, and well‑beloved, princess, I fear what the result might be. Therefore, for several reasons, I feel that it is imperative that this Twilight Sparkle come to Canterlot. For one, she may have knowledge concerning the Crystal Mirror and the reasons behind its destruction. But, just as important, and for all concerned, simply seeing her presence here in Canterlot will do much to dispel any growing sense of fear and panic that will undoubtedly result if Celestia does not recover by morn. Anger once again bubbled inside, in memory of how this “Miss Sparkle” had deliberately ignored those requests; had intentionally provided grist for the aristocracy’s mill. Nevertheless, even then, Princess Luna would have adapted. After all, no plan survives first contact with the enemy. But there would be no understanding, no forgiveness, between Princess Luna and this “Miss Sparkle”. Not now. Not ever. Not after a courtier—undoubtedly seeking to curry favor—had whispered to her what Miss Sparkle had said. And had not just said, but had loudly declared: I have no intention of returning with you. And whatever is afflicting Princess Celestia? Well, that’s your problem, not mine. As is whether or not she lives or dies. I don’t care either way, nor does it matter to me in the least. The unpalatable truth was that, for now, Princess Luna had no choice but to tolerate her continued existence and survival. She had already proven herself useful with curing Sunset Shimmer, so there was hope she might provide a similar cure for her beloved Celestia. There was also the matter of rescuing Princess Twilight Sparkle from whence she was trapped; she might very well prove useful there, as well. So… Tolerate Miss Sparkle she would. For now.