//------------------------------// // 1. Checkmate // Story: The End of All Things // by Coronet the lesser //------------------------------// It was cold. Cozy Glow, Empress of Equestria, could hardly remember the last time she felt the warmth of the sun against her coat. In fact, it had been a long time since she felt anything at all. Even the power of Grogar’s bell, which flowed through her veins, brought her no comfort. Over the years, she metamorphosed into something far greater than a mere insignificant filly. She was an alicorn now, as great as Celestia ever was. But her form clung to her like an ill-fitted dress. As if some part of her soul knew that she was unworthy of the image she projected. She stared out to the vast land that had once been Equestria and sighed. Equestria had been a country of rolling hills of green and small, comely villages. Where adventure always lingered upon the horizon, and its happy inhabitants lived beneath the sun's maternal watch. But such a time lay in the past. Equestria was a dying land. It was a silent place; endless plains of dead grass and rocks dotted the landscape. Thick bramble groves spurted out between churned up cobble roads. Towns lay dilapidated and abandoned, cadavers of a once-thriving society. The wind constantly kicked up ash and dust, which covered everything in a haze of dirty soot. The days were dark and dreary, and the nights were desolate. This was her ‘kingdom’. Or what was left of it. She had returned to the ruins of Canterlot, the place of her ultimate triumph, to reflect, she had told herself. To meditate upon the troubles she faced. It was a good lie. Cozy had always been good at lying. In the distance, it rumbled. A storm wall a hundred feet high touched the very clouds themselves, whirled violently. Debris were thrown hundreds of metres into the air at terrifying speeds. Occasionally lightning pierced the veil, and for the briefest moment, Cozy saw beyond the tempest’s shadowy curtain, revealing shapes of horrors unspoken. Storms were forces of nature, but this was different. This was alive. Cozy could feel its hatred, like heat emanating from a volatile flame, and its hatred was reserved for all creatures that lived under the light of the sun. She shuddered. A dim light blinked in front of her, and her fear seemed to recede for a moment. She looked down at where it emanated from. She held a large sapling seed within her hooves. It was oval in shape and had a smooth, transparent surface. She regarded its crystalline structure; it was as if it were carved by the finest jeweller. However, despite its artificial appearance, she knew it was old, older than Equestria itself. But more than that, it represented something greater. Within its core, swirled multi-coloured rainbow light. The Light of Harmony. The last sapling of the Tree of Harmony recovered from beneath the Two Sisters' Castle in the Everfree Forest. Cozy had thought it had been quashed all those years ago. The remnant of a bygone age consigned to the fog of history. She felt it pulse in her hooves, radiating something indescribable. At that moment, the light went out. “Hello, Cozy Glow.” Cozy seized up, her eyes wide. A figure stood to her right, coolly regarding her. The mare was a tall, unremarkable pony only distinguishable by the odd combination of having both a horn and wings. The mare’s coat sparkled brightly. But it was washed out, almost translucent in nature. Though it had been many years, the figure before her was unmistakable. “T-Twilight,” Cozy said; she looked up at the now-empty seedling. Twilight smiled toward Cozy, as if she were meeting an old friend rather than one of her greatest foes. “I-It’s impossible. You’re dead.” “Hmmm, a ghost of what was, or perhaps what should be,” Twilight said slowly. “I am dead.” She nodded slowly as if she was now sure of herself. “Or at least she is.” “You’re the spirit of the Tree, so?” Cozy asked. “Or at least what is left of it.” “Perhaps, if that helps you conceptualise,” replied ‘Twilight’ cheerily. “I don’t have much time.” Her gaze turned to the distant storm. “And neither do you.” “The Tree’s remains stopped working after the Elements defeat,” Cozy pondered. “Twilight’s castle was unusable. It was dead to the touch.” “I am but a fragment of a memory,” interrupted not-Twilight. “So, you know?” Cozy paused. Her mouth quivered briefly before she suppressed it. “About it all?” Twilight stood in place, her sad smile having returned. She nodded solemnly. “I am not what I was,” she spoke quietly. “Only a shadow of a shadow.” If there was any bitterness in her tone, Cozy could not detect it. It was a simple statement of fact. She turned her head from the storm to regard the ruins of Canterlot. “There is a sickness upon this land. I can feel it in the water. In the air.” She let silence fill the chamber for a moment before continuing. “It is all wrong.” “I have to stop it, somehow,” Cozy said more to herself than her astral counterpart. “It started with the climate. Then the animals started acting up. I put it up to coincidence or some weird old magic. But when it came to the countryside, then the small villages…it all went wrong, and no matter how much I tried to fix it, it just kept getting worse.” Cozy said nothing of what she had seen. She did not want to remember. “Where are your friends, Cozy?” Twilight queried suddenly. Cozy grimaced, not expecting that particular response to her words, she ground her teeth inadvertently. “An Empress has no friends, only followers or foes,” Cozy laughed; it was a painful and empty thing. “I don’t see the relevance to our current predicament.” “It is the only thing that relevant,” insisted Twilight. “A life without friends is a life unlived, and from the looks of it, your reign has not been a particularly enjoyable life.” “And what do you know?” Cozy snapped. “Some spectre of some dead mare.” Cozy breathed heavily out. She let her anger stew for a moment as Twilight continued to stand impassively. As Cozy slowly calmed down, she spoke once more. “I haven’t spoken to Tirek or Chrysalis in years. They are more concerned about themselves than anything I have to say.” Cozy’s muzzled dipped slightly, as did the harshness of her tone. “Even if it’s the end of the world.” “I am sorry.” “I don’t need your pity,” Cozy spat. “They meant nothing to me. Just a means to an end.” Twilight shook her head. “I think they meant something to you.” She tapped her chin contemplatively. “Perhaps not friends, but something you valued for more than just as tools for personal gain. You created something with them, something that those two had never experienced before, a common bond.” Cozy shrugged a dismissive hoof toward Twilight. “I think you really could have been something.” Cozy paused. “I told-” “If only you had embraced what you had been taught rather than feeling as if you needed to control it,” Twilight said. For the first time, the spectre looked troubled, like she was…lost. “I didn’t come for a lecture,” Cozy grumbled. “I imagine it felt good,” Twilight said. “Winning. At least for a while.” She cocked her head to the side. “But it always felt like something was missing for you? A doubt, perhaps? A stray thought as you slept—a deep, quiet little voice whispering to you.” Cozy could not speak. The words died in her mouth. She wanted to say some hurtful, some quick-witted and cynical retort, but she chocked upon her response. All she could summon was a raggedy cough. “And that voice said that power in of itself was never enough? Was it? It never could be.” “Be quiet,” Cozy growled. “Just shut up.” “You didn’t want this,” Twilight continued. “Not really. You were a lost little child looking for control in life you felt you were robbed of.” Cozy winced, her jaw clenched tightly. “You should have been raised with a family that loved you, guided by teachers that could inspire you, and friends that supported you, instead of being locked away to be forgotten in some cold, dark prison.” “What do you want from me?!” Cozy cried, her frustration boiling over. She just felt so tired. Everything was all so tiring. She just wished it could stop. “To tell me something, I already know? To mock me?” Cozy barely noticed the hot tears that ran across her face. She could not remember the last time she cried. “I live with this every day.” She inhaled deeply. “What choice do I have?” Twilight shook her head sadly. Cozy had always enjoyed the pained expressions of others. But now, Twilight looked at her not with anger or fear but rather the most distasteful of emotions, pity. Cozy hated it, she hated Twilight too, yet her pride could not let her say who she hated more; her long-dead mentor or herself. “I don’t want anything from you, Cozy.” Twilight shook her head vigorously. Eventually, she stared straight into Cozy’s eyes. “I just want to say I am sorry.” “Sorry?” “I am sorry friendship failed you,” Twilight whispered. She brought a hoof against her chest. “I failed you, Cozy. And now, because of my failure, I have failed everyone.” After a brief sad look, she closed her eyes and bowed her head. “An apology?” Cozy sneered, her pride defeating whatever sense of sorrow existed within her. “That’s why you came back? To apologise because you couldn’t save my soul?” Cozy anger flared in equal measure to her indignation. “Oh, no, Cozy, not just an apology; a goodbye. This is it,” said Twilight softly. “It all comes to a stop. Tonight.” Cozy had known the truth. But to hear it spoken, right here in this moment. It was like being physically struck. She felt dizzy. Her hooves buckled and threatened to completely knock her over. She wanted to curl up into a ball and just sit there. It could not be over? It should not be. But she already knew it was. Why would Twilight lie? Cozy knew liars. There was no lie in that mare’s features. “So, there’s nothing?” spoke Cozy slowly. She felt exhausted. “There is nothing you can do to help me?” She crumpled to the floor. Her wings splayed out at her sides, her breaths heavy and laboured. “I think we both know the answer to that.” Twilight lay down on the ground next to her. She mirrored Cozy’s exhaustion. Suddenly the mare flickered violently. There was a great rumble; in and out, the image of Twilight came forth until she settled again. She looked troubled. “It was not meant to be this way.” “Do you know how long?” “Not long now,” mumbled the spirit. Cozy hugged herself; the cold was ever more biting. “What is it?” Cozy asked. Twilight looked at Cozy, her expression unreadable. “We tried everything; nothing works…” “Something old and wicked,” Twilight said slowly as if admitting so was difficult. “Something that shadows every heart, that devours all before it.” The mare shivered. Cozy, almost instinctively reached out to comfort her counterpart but held back at the last moment. “You have fought it before?” Cozy recoiled as the Mare’s empty eyes fell upon Cozy. There was no warmth in that cold vacant stare; behind those eyes’ lay eternity. Cozy never thought something that came from Harmony could ever terrify her so. Still, she felt very small in that moment—an insignificant droplet within an endless ocean. “I have always fought it. Every moment I live, I fight against it.” Cozy could never imagine a creature of Harmony sounding angry, but it was there if a bit more subtly than most. “All creatures should always be wary when they pray, Cozy. Harmony is not the only one that can hear them.” The spirit said no more on the matter. “Can you stay?” Cozy asked. She felt as small as the child who had inherited all the throne all those years ago. She just needed someone present, anyone that cared. She did not want to be alone at the end. “I-I’m afraid.” Twilight nodded solemnly. “I will try. I fade quickly.” Cozy sat in silence; she wasn’t sure what to say, to be honest. To acknowledge that it had all been for nothing. All her plots, all her schemes and designs, it would all fade, and she could do nothing but sit back and accept it for what it was. A younger and less weary Cozy may have lashed out, desperate and flailing. She would have raged against it all, fought and struggled with every aspect of her stolen strength. She would have never accepted checkmate; she would never surrender. But what if there were no more moves to play? There were no more pieces on the board, and the opponent was closing. All she could do was run to delay the inevitable. She embraced it at last. Not the grasping tyrant persona she had carefully cultivated over the years. But the real Cozy, a mare who had been running all her life. From her past, from her present, from what she had done and what she had become. She was done running. She felt light for the first time in forever. It was a gratifying feeling to know that she could just…stop. The spectre of Twilight stayed all the while. She never probed or mocked. She just sat there in content silence, knowing that her very presence put the false-monarch at ease, as any good friend would. The sad illusion Cozy had crafted had finally evaporated. She was beyond appearances at this point. They sat in silence for what seemed like hours. Time seemed to be an illusion to Cozy. All that anchored her to reality was the presence of the last dying light of the old world. “So, it’s true, I had a choice, didn’t I?” asked Cozy earnestly after a time. “To save myself? You really believe that?” “Everyone makes choices,” said Twilight. “Every day of our lives, we make and make choices that affect every aspect of who we are and who we shall become. Even the tiniest choice can affect the entire course of history.” “And I chose wrong,” Cozy said wearily, a small smile on her lips. Twilights turned to look away, her distraught visible upon her sparkling features. “Yes…I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Yes.” The wind roared, and Cozy could feel its malevolence. It moved at terrifying speed, truly. The thunder boomed, the lightning swirled, growing more twisted and intertwined with each passing moment. The remains of the old castle crumbled, throwing up dirt and stone. The very earth groaned in agony. She could not take her eyes off the storm. It was beautiful in a way. Red and violet lightning danced in a chaotic waltz under the blackest clouds she had ever seen. In a twisted way, it emulated Harmony in its movement. There was a purpose and order amidst its terrifying display of chaotic energy. Oblivion. “I don’t want to die,” Cozy whispered. She wished she had the strength to scream or cry. She wondered if someone out there would pray for her. Would someone out there not give her that? “I know,” Twilight said. Her glow seemed less than what it was. The light surrounding her retreated slowly. Her image flickered violently; her voice began to fade. The mare no longer reflected light; instead, her very visage seemed to fade, like a slowly dwindling candle. “Please know that I do not hate you, Cozy. I never could.” The mare dimmed until her outline faded into the obscurity of the shadow of the storm. Only the echo of her voice remained. “I only wish I could h-h-have-” Cozy’s outstretched hoof remained in the place where Twilight had been last. She left it to linger for a few moments, but the spectre did not return. She was gone. Harmony had finally departed this forsaken land. Now, Cozy was truly alone with her failure. She spoke, unsure if anyone could hear her words, yet it mattered not for they were more for herself than anyone else. “Goodbye, Twilight. Forgive me, please.” All the while, the shadow moved with unnatural speed towards her. The rumble of the storm drowning out everything, light, sound, the very air itself. She could hear them within the tempest. It was the innocent. It was the beaten, the enslaved, the starved and the murdered gathered in a mournful chorus. This was her world. This was her choice. This storm was her. There were screams upon the wind.