Sunrise
Chapter XV - Storms (Part 2)
Both alicorns recoiled, pulling their faces away from the silver basin. Celestia whinnied and shook her head. Luna reared up briefly and then backed away with high hoofsteps. She looked around, breathing heavily with panicked eyes darting anxiously around the room.
Storm Grey stood still and silent until the two sisters calmed and reoriented themselves, returning to reality in the dark cloud-cavern den.
“Is— Is that really what happens?” Luna asked.
“Could be.” Storm Grey watched them closely.
“Only if—” Celestia stammered quietly, struggling to regain her voice. “Only if we—”
“Yes.” Storm Grey nodded. “Only if. It can only ever show you ‘only if.’”
“But why?” Luna cried out in anger. “Why would you show us that?”
“Would it be better had you not known?” Storm Grey asked sharply. “Would it hurt less to walk into it blind and stub your hoof in the dark by surprise instead?”
“Yes!” Luna screamed. “That might have been better!” Tears formed in her eyes. “But you’ve taken that choice from us now. What have you cursed us with, witch?”
“Witch?” Storm Grey smiled slowly. “That’s something I haven’t heard in a long time. I always know I’ve made the right choice when somepony calls me that.”
Celestia moved to stand beside Luna, extending a wing and rubbing her back to calm her.
“I think my sister’s question deserves answering,” Celestia said sourly, glowering at Storm Grey. “What sick game are you playing? Is there really some greater purpose to all this?”
“I don’t enjoy it, but I do what it takes,” Storm Grey snapped back in a harsh voice.
“Why is this ‘what it takes?’” Celestia’s voice cracked as she asked the question.
“Because if it was up to me…” Storm Grey lowered her eyes and stared at the floor. “I would have figured that out long ago. It would be my burden to bear, my suffering to suffer. But it’s not. I wasn’t wise enough. Now I suffer in a different way, while you pay the price for my failures. I’m sorry.”
“That still doesn’t answer why.” Celestia blinked back slow-welling tears.
“Because until now you merely tested your ability to become what you can become,” Storm Grey said. “But asking ‘can we’ is no substitute for asking ‘should we.’ My gift to you is that now you test your resolve, the way mine should have been tested before I dove into what I couldn’t bear to finish. Pass the test and become your vision, or don’t.” She shrugged. “But above all else, no half-measures! Those will only bring the greatest of all sorrows, the worst of disasters. Believe me, I know. Meet it head-on, or run now. Up to you. But it must be one of the two, not both.”
“Meet it or run…” Celestia whispered quietly, with a distant horror dawning on her face. “You did this because it’s not fated. We still have that choice, don’t we? We’re still the ones who have to choose to make it happen.”
“Of course you do, silly girl.” Storm Grey snorted. “What have I been telling you? What fool would believe in fate, when every day proves you have the freedom to choose what to make of it? No, the universe would never be so cruel, to chain you to an immutable fate. I said it before. Only you can tell you what to do.”
“I can tell you what I’d like to do,” Luna growled, wiping away tears. “After what you’ve made me see—”
“Your hatred is wasted on me,” Storm Grey scoffed. “It doesn’t matter what happens to me now, because I know my last chance when I see it. Now that I’ve given you this, my work is done. The last of my strength is used up. I’ll be gone soon enough.”
“Oh,” Celestia muttered, her eyes falling in sudden dismay. “I’m sorry. Is there anything we could do to help?”
“No. And don’t try, because it’s a relief, in a way.” Storm Grey waved her hoof in a dismissive gesture. “Five hundred years – it’s too long. It leaves me feeling stretched so thin. So thin…” She drew out the word, trailing off sadly.
Celestia raised her head to look at Storm Grey, and blinked in surprise. Something indefinable had fallen away. Beneath the dark and smoky façade of the mysterious wizard who had met them at the door, she suddenly saw the reality of Storm Grey, the real flesh-and-blood mare without the mask of power and the cloak of mystery to envelop her.
The change was disconcerting. Her visage almost seemed to have shrunk. All the proud stiffness was gone; she stood there now with drooping wings and a hanging head. Everything about her had the look of a pony old – no, ancient – beyond her years, one who had been beaten and scarred inside and out, exhausted and time-worn down to a thin shell.
Celestia found herself unable to stay mad. The heat of her anger dissipated into the cool air, leaving only a rising feeling of pity mixed with a vague melancholy sadness that came from the sense that she was witnessing the last fading days of something once-great, something whose story she would never truly know or understand, but whose echoes she felt she could still somehow hear in distant strains, like the crashing of great raging waves onto seaside cliffs from miles away.
“Is… is there really nothing we can do?” She asked, not entirely sure why other than out of sympathy.
“You can not make my mistakes,” Storm Grey said. “Now go. Go! Get out. I’m tired.” She looked up at them with a hard gaze, but after a moment it faded into a distant, unfocused stare. “…I’m tired.”
☙ ☀ ❧
Celestia tossed and turned uneasily in the small cloud-bed in her room. Every time she closed her eyes and tried to sleep, everything she saw in Storm Grey’s basin would run through her head; memories now rather than visions, but no less invasive. Not being able to escape was exhausting, in a cruel irony that left her frustrated.
After what felt like hours of lying awake, she finally gave up on sleep altogether, kicking off her blankets and leaving the bare, impersonal bedroom. After a quick walk down the single short flight of stairs, she joined Luna on a couch made of cloud-fluff in an equally impersonal living room. The pre-furnished housing, devoid of any real sense of home, only added to the torment by serving as a stinging reminder that there was no longer a home for them to go back to, even if they’d wanted to.
“Can’t sleep?” Luna asked.
Celestia shook her head.
“I don’t suppose I will during the day, either,” Luna said softly.
A long, quiet moment passed.
“I’m afraid, Celestia,” Luna finally said, staring at the far wall and its generic painting of some nameless armored pegasus, barely visible in the dark. “I need to say that upfront. I won’t hide it; I’m afraid.”
“Should we talk about it?” Celestia asked. “Would— Would that help, I wonder, or just make it worse? If you don’t want to, I understand.”
“No, I don’t want to,” Luna said slowly, “but I think we’ve learned that it would only be an even bigger mistake not to.”
Celestia snuggled up next to her sister and they just leaned against each other for a little while.
“What did you see?” she finally broke the silence.
“We win,” Luna said, just above a whisper. “For now. And for a long time. New challenges come, and they go, and we keep winning. But nothing lasts forever. Nothing can escape being washed away eventually. Not even us.”
She hesitated before she found her voice again. “You and me, the… the closeness we have. It disappears, bit by bit, so slowly we can’t even see it happening, can’t swim against it being swept away in the rivers of time. Then one day, we’re too far, and it’s too late. We—” she swallowed a dry lump in her throat “—There are fights. Bickering. First a little one here, then another there. We argue. It gets worse the more it happens. I see anger on your face. I feel it in my chest, burning. Finally I feel as if there’s no going back, and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, because I say… things. Terrible things. I feel… like…”
“Like what?” Celestia whispered.
Her jaw trembled. “Like we’re not sisters,” Luna said, her voice shaky. “Not— Not anymore. I’ve given up, disavowed us as family. And I know that one of us has to go. I try to make it you, but it has to be me. I have to go somewhere. So I’m sent away. For such a long time. It feels like forever. Maybe it is forever, because I can’t see past it. All I know is… That’s all I feel, all I can think, for long, slow years that drag on and on. I’m angry, and bitter, and filled with hate and regret, and most of all, alone. It’s somewhere cold, and dark, and I am… alone. And it hurts so much.”
“I don’t want that to be what I saw, but it is.” Luna sniffed and wiped away tears. “But that’s how we save ponies. That’s the price, if we save ponies.”
“Luna, I love you.” Celestia reached over and pulled Luna into a hug. “No matter what happens, I love you, forever. Don’t ever forget. Please.”
She spent the rest of the night there with her sister, never wanting to let go.
☙ ☀ ❧
Luna and Celestia still sat together on the couch as morning sun—the morning Celestia silently cursed but brought forth nonetheless when the unstoppable, unfightable clock said it was time—poured in through the window, bathing the living room in white-gold light.
“You’ve put it off long enough,” Luna said. “Your turn.”
“I thought it would be easier in the light of day,” Celestia muttered.
“Is it?”
“No.” Celestia paused. “I’m just looking for an excuse not to say it out loud. I know that now.”
“I won’t make you if you don’t want to.”
“As much as I appreciate it—” Celestia sighed “—you said it yourself; we’ve learned that it would only be an even bigger mistake not to.”
Luna nodded slowly without speaking.
“Great things happen,” Celestia finally began. “A new kingdom arises. It has earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi in it. There’s peace. Ponies are happy.”
“Yes.” Luna nodded. “That much we both see.”
“And it lasts a long, long time,” Celestia continued. “We find what we seek. I see ponykind in the south. Towns spring up. Cities grow. I see a shining city on the great mountain of our vision. I see the lands around it transform, from wild to tame as our kind spreads over this world and settles it. Years wind by. I teach generations of unicorn mages. I lead little ponies of all kinds.”
“So we succeed,” Luna concluded. She was quiet for a moment. “But…”
“But.” Celestia nodded. “But there’s a common thread that runs through it all – all the long years, all the successes, all the great things. In all of it, one thing never changes.”
“What is it?” Luna asked softly.
“If we do this—” Celestia’s voice caught in her throat “—if it all happens the way I’ve seen—” Tears started running down her cheeks. She blinked through them, wetting and clumping her long eyelashes. “It’s what you say, we save ponies. But—”
She had to pause to swallow and take a deep breath before she could continue.
“But I’m alone,” she said in a cracking voice. “I send you away, and you’re gone, and I’m always alone. And there’s— I never— never realize how much I wanted it until it never happens, but—”
Celestia sobbed, long and ragged, and stared with her wet, rose-colored eyes into Luna's.
“—I never have foals.”
“Oh Celestia…” Luna pulled Celestia close and she collapsed, burying her face against Luna’s chest and breaking down into racking sobs of bitter anguish. In her wailing screams, barely muffled by Luna’s coat, she wordlessly cursed the daylight, cursed Storm Grey, cursed Hurricane, cursed Clover, cursed the unicorn kingdom, cursed her wings and her horn, and more than anything else, cursed the choices ahead.
☙ ☀ ❧
Later that morning, with her tears finally exhausted and replaced by determination to seek answers, Celestia made the flight to Commander Hurricane’s office alone. She was shown in by the office staff, who it seemed had been given orders to immediately send her in upon arrival. They ushered her quickly through the door and then left her alone with the Commander.
“Oh, hey. You make your decision yet?” Hurricane asked Celestia from behind her desk, barely looking up.
“Not yet.” Celestia shook her head.
“Then what’s up?” Hurricane asked.
“I’m curious about something,” Celestia said. “Why did you send us to Storm Grey?”
“So that you’d see what she’d show you,” Hurricane replied, stating the obvious.
“That’s not what I meant!” Celestia growled, immediately getting impatient. “Why did we need to see what she’d show us? You must have known it would be terrible. You sent us anyway. Why?”
“I didn’t know what you’d see.” Hurricane narrowed her eyes. “If I could know that, I wouldn’t have needed to send you.”
“Don’t give me that nonsense!” Celestia barked, starting to boil over with frustration. “If you thought it would be anything good, you’d have sent us right away, because what would be the downside? But you waited. You waited for a reason. I think you knew it would hurt us. So why do it at all? Answer me! I’m sick of these games everypony plays with us!”
A dark expression clouded over Hurricane’s face while she stood up, bristling. Celestia braced herself for the shouting she was sure was coming.
It never came. Instead, Hurricane breathed in and out several times, slowly loosening the tension in her posture. After cooling down, she slowly walked out from behind her desk, coming around to join Celestia in front of it.
“You any good at flying yet?” Hurricane asked.
“Passable,” Celestia said, taken a little by surprise. “Not great.”
“That’ll work. Fly with me.” Hurricane paced toward the door to her office and motioned for Celestia to follow. “There’s something I want you to see.”
She left the office, then the building, and took off, flying at a leisurely pace. Celestia went after her.
They flew for a few minutes, winding around the numerous structures and neighborhoods of the city, until Hurricane led Celestia into a landing at a secluded park ringed by tall pillars on a cloud near the periphery of Cloudopolis. It was quiet there, with other pegasi mostly seeming to keep a certain distance from it. Whether it was a reverent distance or a superstitious distance, Celestia wasn’t sure.
The park was filled with statues of pegasi, made of carved cloudstone atop round or rectangular bases. Hurricane walked toward the statues, and Celestia followed her. Drawing closer, she began to see that most of the bases of the statues were inset with little metal plaques that bore a name and a date.
An uneasiness fell over Celestia at the realization of what they meant.
“Are these heroes of Cloudopolis?” She asked.
“They are the great ponies we honor.” Hurricane nodded, continuing to walk slowly. “It’s a funny thing, being great. Somepony once said: some ponies are born into greatness. Some ponies achieve greatness. And some have greatness thrust onto them.”
Celestia wasn’t sure what to say to that. She followed Hurricane as she strolled around the park, meandering in a seemingly aimless weave.
“They all end up here, though,” Hurricane eventually continued while she studied the statue nearest her. “Don’t they?”
“I suppose they do.” Celestia nodded.
“And every single one of them would trade all that greatness for just one more day of life,” Hurricane stated. The bitterness in her voice took Celestia by surprise.
“Don’t get to know what dancing to the song of glory is going to cost until the time comes to pay the piper.” Hurricane stopped at a particular statue and stared up at it. “Or who might be paying.”
Celestia walked up beside Hurricane and studied the statue. The resemblance was striking. A sinking feeling told Celestia that it wasn’t just coincidental.
“Sorry,” Celestia mumbled awkwardly. “May I ask…?”
“My sister,” Hurricane said. She looked Celestia right in the eyes and pointed a hoof at the statue. “This one’s my sister.”
Celestia’s blood ran cold, then her stomach twisted and her ears burned while she struggled on shaking legs not to burst into tears all over again. All she could do was stand in place silently trying to calm down for a long minute or so, trying to think about anything but Luna.
“Are you alright?” Hurricane asked.
“I’m sorry.” Celestia cleared her throat and swallowed down unshed tears. “It’s just been a very emotional morning. And night.”
“Storm Grey has that effect.” Hurricane nodded. “But that’s just her own weird way of telling you what you need to hear.”
“I think she only made things a lot harder, to be honest,” Celestia said.
“Maybe.” Hurricane shrugged. “Or maybe it just seems like that right now.”
“It’s funny.” Celestia thought for a moment. “I’m still not sure I understand. She let us see the bad that would come with the good, but I don’t get the sense that she meant for any of it to change our minds.”
“No.” Hurricane shook her head. “No, I don’t think she ever changes anypony’s mind.”
“Then I still don’t understand any of this. Why did you wait so long to send us to Storm Grey?” Celestia asked. “Why even send us at all, for that matter?”
“Because I assumed Clover had some other plan, and I assumed she knew better than I did.” Hurricane shrugged. “So who was I to throw interference like old Stormy into it? But then Clover disappeared, and it was down to you. At that point, I kinda thought maybe you should know what you were getting yourselves into, because when it was my turn, I sure wish—”
She put a hoof on the statue before her and stared at it with an intense, sad gaze.
“—I wish I had known.”
☙ ☀ ❧
Celestia walked in the door to find her sister still sitting in the living room.
“Any answers?” Luna asked, looking up from the book she was reading on the couch.
“Nothing helpful,” Celestia said glumly.
“What was unhelpful, then?”
“The most I could get out of it was that Commander Hurricane ‘thought we should know what we were getting ourselves into,’” Celestia said. “For all the good that’s supposed to do.”
“Oh well.” Luna sighed, before she looked up and gave her sister a wan smile. “At least—”
“—We’re in it together.” Celestia nodded.
“But our time is limited,” Luna fretted, “and we’re still no closer to deciding what our next move is.”
“As if responsibility for the sun and the moon wasn’t enough,” Celestia grumbled, flopping down on the couch next to Luna.
Luna was silent for a short while before she spoke again.
“You know, we can move the sun and the moon from Cloudopolis as well as anywhere else,” Luna pointed out carefully.
“Meaning?” Celestia probed curiously.
“Meaning, we could—” Luna closed her book and looked around “—We could just stay here. You could choose to find a stallion from many fine ones here among the pegasi. Have foals. I would like to meet my little nieces and nephews.”
Celestia thought about that for a long moment. “And maybe you’ll find a nice mare here, too.” She nodded. “I’d like to meet her.”
“Do we really have a reason to choose anything more than that?” Luna wondered aloud.
“If we don’t choose more, that might be the end of earth ponies and unicorns.” Celestia stood up and paced. “Which… I don’t know. That would be a tragedy. But—”
“But do we really owe anything to them?” Luna muttered, standing and pacing opposite the circle that Celestia was treading.
“After all they’ve done to us—” Celestia continued.
“Are they worth saving?” Luna pondered. “Would that even be the right thing, for us?”
“It’s not as if their loss would be the end of ponies, anyway,” Celestia said. “Only a changing of form. Maybe it’s not so bad if everypony has wings. Maybe it’s the pegasi who should inherit the world. They’re the only ones who haven’t treated us like garbage or disposable tools. They’re the ones who have the will to fight to be free of somepony else’s saddle. And they’re the ones who had enough of a shred of decency to consider giving us a choice.”
“All true.” Luna nodded. “They are good ponies. Or at least as good as we’re going to find.”
“I like it here, among them,” Celestia agreed.
“Leave the rest to their fate in the snow and ice, then?” Luna asked, with an intonation of doubt in her voice. She looked glumly at the floor. “Maybe it’s what they deserve…”
“Maybe some of them deserve it, yes.” Celestia stopped pacing and stared straight at Luna. “But we can’t.”
Luna likewise stopped in her tracks and stared back. “…No. No, we can’t, can we?”
“We’re here because of what the Unicorn Kingdom chose,” Celestia said. “And if it was wrong for them, then we can’t choose to do the same thing, because there is at least one pony who doesn’t deserve it. One pony we – I – made a promise to.”
“Winter Wheat, yes.” Luna nodded sadly. “But her foals for yours – that isn’t fair!”
“We were unicorns,” Celestia said. “We were part of the reason this happened in the first place. I don’t think it’s about fair anymore, it’s about setting things back to how they need to be. And to save everypony, what it takes is accepting that it falls on us to make right what unicorns made wrong. What every kind of pony made wrong in their own ways.”
“Why should we save everypony, then?” Luna asked bitterly. “It’s not our fault! Why can’t we just save Winter?”
“You know why,” Celestia responded.
“…Because if there’s one more like her, just one other as good as her, then they also deserve to be saved. And then one more, and one more…” Luna nodded. “We really can’t just abandon them, can we?”
“Not if we want to be good ponies.” Celestia shook her head.
Luna hugged Celestia, resting her head on her withers. “Are we good ponies?” she asked.
“That’s what we get to choose,” Celestia whispered, rubbing her cheek against Luna’s neck.
Luna nodded silently, with tears running down her face.