“Is she dead?”
Luna stopped, as lights shimmered to life along the stone hallway leading down into the earth. It made an eerie sight, and was only made worse by the voice’s gentle concern, and the fact that Luna was hundreds of miles away from the voice’s owner.
In the even blue light, Luna took a single step forward, eyes fixed on the stone archway at the end.
“No,” Luna said, simple and blunt. “She is hurt, severely, but lives.”
The voice sighed, a happy noise, as Luna arrived at the end of the hallway, and looked through into the eight sided chamber.
The one sarcophagus that sat undisturbed cast flickering red shadows across the wall, drawing Luna’s attention to the source of the new light.
A recreation of Vivid down to the finest detail, but with bright and sharp looking eyes was sitting there, against the wall, watching Luna enter.
“You are the copy she made,” Luna said, deigning to sit in the middle of the large chamber, rather than approach. “You are… what, then? A magical echo? An illusion given permanence?”
“If I knew what I was, truly, then I would be a philosopher, not a mage,” the glowing red figure said simply. “I am made from magic, and thus quite able to dismiss this form if I feel it necessary.”
The shape vanished, the glowing red light from the gemstone laying on the floor still showing the residence of the individual.
“Yet I think. I persist, and I have desires. This would imply I exist as more than just some spell. Perhaps the original Vivid gave some of herself to me, to make my existence possible, but that is an unanswerable question.”
The figure reappeared, this time standing closer, and Luna reared back ever so slightly at the intrusion of her personal space.
“You said that she was hurt,” the figure said. “Severely. In what manner, and why are you here then?”
“She told me to come,” Luna said simply, frowning. “Why, do you not wish to see me?”
“I’ve wished to see you every second of my existence,” the figure snapped back without hesitation, before calming. “But so long as there is a Vivid alive, I am redundant. My studies, my contemplations can occupy me. I simply… don’t understand why.”
Luna looked away, and tried to put into words the last few weeks, as her eyes found tears gathering at their corners.
“Her hurt… Vivid’s mind has been hurt. She… is resting. She is healing. But… there is a certain sharpness of her which has been lost, and now… she struggles even to say my name.”
“Well,” the figure said, softly. “One would almost wish for death.”
“Do not say that to me,” Luna snarled, standing and stepping closer. “She is pleased to be alive, and I am pleased to have her. Do not treat the blessing of more time as a curse.”
The figure, the copy, nodded and looked down at the floor.
“Well. I apologize. I have at least one difference in mindset from my progenitor, then,” she said gently. “But I am sorry, and I am glad she lived. How… How can I help you?”
"I… I don't know," Luna said after a moment, closing her eyes. "She told me to come, so I did."
The figure approached, and after a bit she wrapped her ghostly grasp around Luna in a gentle hug.
Luna returned it after a moment.
"She must be feeling inadequate," she concluded with a sigh. "Incapable of giving you the comfort you need."
"So she sent me to her own ghost," Luna said with a grimace, tears staining her cheeks.
The copy tried not to smile, amused.
"If her condition grows worse, what would she have wanted me to do?" Luna asked finally.
When she left, and translocation brought her back to Canterlot, the reply was still ringing in her ears.
"Let me go gently."
Luna mindlessly returned to her throne, and sat there in silence except for the occasional staff that crossed the hall. Eventually, a familiar face appeared.
Posey, the subtle mage.
"Do you bring good news?" Luna asked with a thin smile.
"No," Posey answered, her tone apologetic but clearly she'd learned to be honest with her princess.
Tears already started to fall as Luna gestured for her to speak.
"She's developed a fever," Posey said softly as she approached. "She is less aware in the last few hours. You should be by her side."
"Is this how it ends?" Luna asked bitterly. "Not enough time to love each other fully, but always deeply in love? We aren't given our late hours to dream and laugh, and she passes away at the age of thirty seven? Is this the love other ponies endure? If so, I find it lacking. I find it an insult to the nobility of her heart. All over a treaty. If I were some archaic goddess, she would not have died. Hundreds would not have died. But I chain myself to the morals of foreign lands, to keep the peace."
"I wouldn't know, your highness," Posey said, still softly. "I've known neither love nor power. But I wish it was less of a burden on you."
For a little while, Luna was silent, looking down at the stairs before her, and Posey silently looking up, until finally Luna stood and walked down them slowly, reluctantly.
“I wish that I were walking to see the one I love, instead of this uncertainty,” Luna whispered as she finally arrived by Posey’s side and they began to walk together.
“She is the one you love, simply… fading,” Posey offered.
Luna fell silent. She knew of fading, and passing gently. She knew of a gradual decline, and this was far from it. This was cruelty in living form, and she found it far more painful than watching a loved one grow old and pass slowly.
It all felt like it was happening before she could catch her breath.
Just as suddenly, she was standing in the infirmary doorway, and observing the almost picturesque scene before her.
Two thestral-appearing guards flanked the door she was standing in, and just beyond that the white tile of the room began, polished to a shine by the scuff of countless boots and hooves. On the only occupied bed lay a still shape over which doctors huddled, the moonlight illuminating them through a skylight in a beam of silver.
Magelights in glass sconces were spaced around the walls like fallen and captured stars, the enchanted gemstones shedding enough light to keep the room bright in the depth of night, even when the moon was hidden by clouds.
Then, on a rolling rack behind the cluster of ponies, there were the implements of Health in this new age of medicine. Gone were the poultices inspired by Zebra practitioners, gone were the books of spells. Now, knowing unicorn magic could at times kill unprotected flesh, the doctors had a wide array of shining silvery implements. Tools to compensate for their horns, and in fact improve their skill.
The long trusted herbs and plants had been distilled into incredibly potent drugs, glittering green and brown bottles full of relief and of death, just gentle enough to harm the things that hurt ponies, instead of harming them directly.
Luna stepped into the room, breaking the peacefulness of the scene, as Posey followed behind her.
The doctors looked up, spotted her, and stepped back from the table so Luna could approach her beloved.
Vivid was still breathing, but her eyes were closed and her skin matted with sweat. Feverish red skin showed under her coat of fur. Her horn was bandaged tightly with splints to keep it straight and still, in some vain hope that it would heal.
Luna touched her mane, softly. The tumbled mess of blues had faded slightly. She could see some grey in it, pastel blue shining through the richer tones. Her maroon coat was still just as dark as blood, however. It was a small comfort to know that she’d held onto some of her magic within, which gave ponies their vibrant hues.
“How bad is the fever?” Luna asked quietly.
“We’ve called for ice to be brought up from the storerooms, your highness,” the lead doctor admitted. “The fever grows too quickly, if it is left unchecked, it will harm her.”
Luna lit her horn and opened all of the windows, letting a gentle breeze blow in. She knew that it could bring with it unknown germs, but her love needed cool air more than anything.
As she pet Vivid, Luna recalled the old days, when hospital windows were always open, to let the “foul air” of sickness out, as everything was brought by air or wickedness back then. She’d even been accused of causing a death by sickness due to not giving a blessing.
“Is her pain already eased?” Luna asked, barely looking up to see the doctors nodding, before looking back to Vivid. “And what are your guesses as to her time left?”
Silence. It was an unanswerable question, that she knew, but still she wished for an answer.
“Perhaps… a day and night if the fever does not break,” the lead doctor finally said, reluctantly.
Luna nodded and laid her head down on the bed just behind Vivid’s neck, cheek to the roots of her mane, and she let her tears fall, matting those curls down under her chin.
After a few moments, the ice arrived, and the doctors chipped pieces off the block, wrapping each one in cloth before applying it to Vivid’s forehead, neck, and chest.
The unconscious panting of Vivid’s breath slowed, and she finally seemed to be asleep.
“The fever seems to be breaking, your highness,” the doctor finally said, putting a hoof to her shoulder. “She… may survive.”
“In what condition?” Luna asked, looking out the window to note the time of night, almost time for her to raise the sun and sleep.
More silence. More uncertainty.
Luna hung her head and turned to leave.
“I leave her in your capable hooves,” Luna sighed. “And will return when I wake.”
“Of course, your highness.”
Luna walked slowly, as her guards followed close behind, careful to muffle their steps.
Nonetheless, Luna felt as though she was leading a procession through the halls of Canterlot castle, a grim and weary one.
But eventually, rather than a graveyard she reached her bedroom and the guards stayed at the door, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
For a moment, Luna sat there, looking at the balcony across the room. It was time to raise the sun, and set the moon. It was her duty, and it must be done. But though she’d many times been reluctant or slow in doing so, this was the first time in a very long time that she pondered the penalties she would face if she did not.
First, the ponies would panic, as the twilight state lasted for hours. Then, unable to rouse her, or force her to use her magic, the ancient Council of The Sun would be reformed, a hundred unicorns each day banding together to do what she could do nearly effortlessly, and of that hundred, some would never use magic again.
She sighed, and walked to the balcony, closing her eyes as she lit her horn and reached out.
The sun thrashed, a quiet vicious battle for dominance waging between the moon and sun for a moment, until the sun found itself dragged into the sky and set along it’s proper course. Then, and only then, could Luna open her eyes without seeing her sister’s outline wreathed in flame. Only then could she admire Canterlot in the sunlight, with the valleys far below glittering with ponds and rivers.
It was her home, for hundreds of years now. But it had only become energizing recently, with the addition of a pony who challenged her princess as much as cared for her.
Vivid had even changed the landscape of the great city, with two proud churches now standing within Luna’s view, one grey and silver, the other one white and brass.
With a bit of magic, Luna appeared at the doors of the church that admired her sister. The doors were open, and soft organ music was playing inside. The morning service was underway, and the pews were full of ponies and a few griffins.
Luna entered slowly, and quietly, so that only the two ponies who stood at the door providing prayer pamphlets, and the priest at the pulpit noticed her presence.
All three of them seemed shocked. Was it really so unlike their princess to attend a religious ceremony? Perhaps it was. This might as well be a sign of great tribulation. Thankfully the war was over, and now the only troubles Luna fought were those of the heart.
The priest broke her gaze away from her, and looked down at her book. She wore a white and gold robe, plain of adornment, and a wrapping over her braided mane.
“Welcome, sisters and brothers,” the priest began, voice loud but her tone carefully even. “Let us begin with a prayer to those who have passed, both in the recent conflict, and otherwise.”
Luna opened her little prayer pamphlet, to read the words, and say them along with the rest of the congregation.
“Celestial Mother, the family of Equestria has lost so many of late, and we find ourselves in mourning. The sudden passing of our loved ones, our friends, our neighbors has left us in shock and pain. But Mother, you have told us in times long past that we should not mourn as the common ponies do. By the sun, our beloved has been your faithful servant, and because of that, our hearts are full of hope and joy because we know that we shall be reunited with them when we come to the sky, to be by your side. In the name of all stars we pray. Amen.”
The words felt hollow to Luna. She’d never shared her sister’s belief in an afterlife, and even if there were one, it would be quite a while until she joined it.
Nonetheless there was a small pleasure in saying the words, no matter their power or truth. Even if she herself was the same sort of all powerful goddess as far as these ponies cared, she could still take comfort in the idea of being reunited with her loved ones, with her sister, at some undefined future point in time.
Before the ceremony could continue, Luna slipped away, thanking the ponies at the door.
When she got back to her room, finally, she undressed and bathed before falling into a quick deep sleep.
She did not dream.