//------------------------------// // To Volunteer // Story: It Takes A Princess // by Casketbase77 //------------------------------// “It’s warm,” complained dark Loopa. Or no wait, Luna, Creativa reminded herself. Luna was the pony taking disgusted sips from her juice-box-turned-cooling-rag-turned-back-to-juice-box and lamenting how her drink has lost its chill during the cleanup of the extremely confused brawl. “I apologize,” Creativa whispered meekly. She’d calmed down enough to undrape the picnic blanket from her shoulders and lie down on it, but nausea kept her from standing. For now, she had her wings fanned to catch some warm, soothing sunlight. Meanwhile, the two pseudo strangers reclined in their chairs and continued chatting. It was like an inverted duplicate of one of them sloshing out of the ocean and attacking on sight didn’t even crack the top ten weirdest things that had happened to them. And if they were as longed lived as Creativa herself was, she wondered if that was the case. “Oh hush,” the white one was saying. “Both of you. An eight ounce drink is not worth pouting nor apologizing over.”  “That’s your opinion,” Luna huffed. “I’ll pout as I like.” Creativa hadn’t decided which was more surreal: hearing a stranger speak in Loopa’s voice, or hearing another stranger answer in her own. She certainly felt a pang every time Luna aired even the most basic of throwaway comments, especially because Loopa herself had been such a filterless chatterbox. And yet every time the other one (Creativa felt privately guilty she’d already forgotten her own counterpart’s name), every time she spoke, Creativa could feel herself drawing further inwards out of self-pity. The white one had a warm, thoughtful timbre that could have only come from many years of peace and authority. Those were luxuries Creativa had never known. Still… what was it that Order had once called her? “A weary mortal mare under all that regalia"? Creativa regarded the aged lines under her counterpart’s kindly eyes . Perhaps some things were universal. Or perhaps ‘multiversal’ was the more accurate term, if the three of them had things figured out correctly. “It hardly makes sense,” Luna complained as she absently dug her hooves in the sand. “Granted, I could imagine Discord flinging either Celestia or I into the lap of our next-door selves simply for his own anarchic amusement. But a Harmonic Discord doing the same? To a Chaotic Celestia? Less sensible. You said yourself that your version of him care nothing for roundabout theatrics.” Celestia! That was the other one’s name. Try not to forget it again, you utter dunce. Celestia, Celestia, Celes- Creativa’s thoughts were interrupted by Luna once again flinging the juice box to get her attention. It halted inches from Creativa’s startled face, suspended by a gold aura. Celestia shook her disapproving head. Then the empty carton dropped to the sand.   “Be kind,” she chastised before addressing Creativa directly. “You’ve had a bad day. That much is obvious.” Creativa nodded, tracing a pseudo-hoof on the pattern of the picnic blanket. “Well then, for what it’s worth, you have my sympathy, Princess… um…” Celestia’s white cheeks were tinting pink with embarrassment. “Creativa,” Luna supplied. Her tone was less earnestly helpful and more scoffing at her older sister’s shortcomings. “Princess Creativa,” Celestia hastily finished. “Apologies. When it comes to names, I’m an utter dunce.” To the retired Sun Princess’s relief, her counterpart managed to smile. “It’s quite alright," Creativa mumbled. "Not sure what put it in your head that I’m royalty, though. I’ve never touched a crown in my life.” “No?” Luna recalimed her juice box and leaned forward incredulously. “Then what of my counterpart? I do have one, don’t I? What role does she play in your struggle? A significant one, I should hope.” Creativa sighed mournfully. “I’m ashamed to tell you my sister is dead.” Luna grunted with dissatisfaction. Celestia bowed respectfully. Creativa kept talking. “Order has ruled for eons, and even if he let anyone record history, I doubt there’d be many stories of ponies who challenged him for the throne. None that would need more than a few words to tell. He has ways to make lesser creatures behave. He… he’ll touch a finger to your forehead…” “And the victim will go grey.” Celestia finished quietly. “Robbed of their best qualities and reduced to someone barely recognizable. Is that what happened to Lu… Lun… Oh for Faust’s sake…” Luna rolled her eyes, but didn't supply the forgotten name. A straw busied her sipping mouth. “Loopa," Creativa continued. "No. I mean, Order tried to grey her. Once. But Loopa...” Creativa grinned sadly despite her wobbling voice. “She, heh heh, she fought it off. Can you even imagine? I’m certain that before you put your version of Order in the dirt where he belonged, he greyed a fair number of your own ponies, didn’t he?” “Only six of them,” Celestia replied coolly. “Then you've must have seen that even though the grey spell is reversible, the victim never snaps out of it on their own. Loopa did though. The only time I’ve ever seen Order lose composure was when he laid both hands on Loopa and nothing happened. Other than her blowing him across the room with a bolt to the chest. I don’t know why, but Loopa was somehow greyproof. And Order must not have known either, because he-” Creativa’s voice cracked and she winced in embarrassment. “He dealt with her,” Celestia guessed. “Permanently.”  “He did. I’d of course heard of his Elements Of Harmony from the ponies I’d freed. But until Loopa resisted getting greyed, I’d never actually seen Order use them. It happened so fast, just like everything does when he attacks. So mindlessly efficient. I remember him reeling from Loopa's bolt, and then suddenly he was coiled and ready, with six gems appearing around him and then they fired and then Loopa didn’t even have time to scream and… and then she was a statue.”  Creativa had scrunched her eyes shut, but she was dimly aware of movement nearby. A massive, swanlike wing was gracing her shoulder. The touch of its soft feathers comforted her. Just a little bit. “I fled. And Order let me go, though I don’t know the reason. Ever since that day I've been ramping up my efforts, gathering as many ponies as I can. I keep them colorful, I tell stories, and I always keep us on the move. Sometimes we try to settle down. Far away from Order’s kingdom where we can have nurture Chaos in peace. But it never works.” Creativa shivered, remembering the ambush on the Prancing Peaks. “Ever. Order is wherever he chooses to be.” “I never Imagined I would sympathize so much with Chaos,” Luna murmured. “Nor would I have imagined that Harmony could be twisted to such domineering ends.” Still sitting with her wing wrapped around her dimensional twin, Celestia exhaled slowly. Luna met her wistful gaze with an impatient one. If they gave Creativa hope now, there would be no going back. The Royal Sisters had hung up their crowns, retired to a comfy beachouse, and certainly weren’t the toughies they used to be. But the hard truth was that old, heroic habits were hard to kick.  “Creativa,” Celestia said slowly and with as much determination as she could, “Your sister, she... that is, I believe that-“ “Loopa is suspended, not dead.” Celestia shot Luna a dirty look. It was ignored. “It’s not fair if Celestia meets her dimensional sister and I do not." Luna crumpled her emptied juice box and stomped on it with finality. "Therefore, you and I are going back to wherever it is you originated. And it shall be I who helps you free her.”