The Diarchy

by Jinxed


Please, Make Yourself At Home

In Canterlot, the bells of the Royal Palace tolled ominously.

The resounding echoes were felt throughout the entirety of the massive city as every ringing note was heavier than the last, being so powerful that the very flagstones shook, and even those living out as far as Appleloosa could hear the great thrum if they listened to the wind, bringing an untold well of emotions rising up in the hearts of the Diarchy's subjects. The different pitches were struck relentlessly in the understood patterns, the old meanings long passed down from family to family, from parent to child, as well as taught in schools as historical information, for the bells indicated many things in life, each meaning boded for good or for ill entirely depending upon the context, but this one was unprecedented in their time.

With the final repeated knell, the Ponies of Canterlot were already making extreme haste as they fled into their homes and into their protective shelters, abandoning whatever they'd had and whatever they were doing immediately, leaving personal effects and only taking themselves and their families, as a horrendous rumble trembled throughout the ground as much as the bells were, and not twenty minutes later the heavily reinforced city gates were breached in a deafening explosion of steel and fire.

The small army marching towards the Royal Palace was headed by none other than Prince Cyrius Banner, High Commander of the Equinisi Armed Forces. A highly decorated veteran of numerous battles and skirmishes with Zebraceia, Minos, and Cerviria, he was one of the most dangerous Unicorns alive, and having lost one of his shining blue eyes at the Battle of Eros Mountain hadn't affected his abilities at all, if anything, he had become stronger through his anger.

The advent of firearms had been a major development in the field of warfare, and although expensive to produce, they had several dedicated units of musketeers with them. Their dangerous ability to reduce a charging line of enemy soldiers into half their number was invaluable, and Equestria was woefully simple to fight against, as easy as the Deer, as they had only opted to improve their armour rather than begin to specialise in ranged weaponry, the fools only believing in the power of the sword.

It made Cyrius burn with contempt. Their high and mighty traditions of old, how they refused to wield better technology, how they refused to recognise the King In The West, his father the King! King Solemn Radiance, nephew of Princess Cadence herself! His father was of Royal standing and the Sisters refused to ever see him as anything more than a colt playing at a simple game of thrones, but his right to rule was through conquest, as they had done so long ago in ancient times to unite Ponies in the Discordian Era! How was he any different? He was a strong leader, and rose to power by helping a struggling city, he founded a Kingdom with his influence and brought the surrounding territories under his rule, making trade flourish with the other peoples of the neighbouring countries. His father was a true King, but the Diarchy of Equestria had sent their own forces to stop Equinisi's survival, halted their trade and expansion and kept them corralled in their city until they became weak and his father surrendered. That wasn't going to happen.

He would make them pay for their hubris, he would stride down the halls of the iniquitous Princesses, and he would grind them and the primordial thrones of Equestria between his iron-plated hooves. They would both die today, and he would be the one to end their lives. They weren't fighters anymore, a thousand years ago they would have been unstoppable, but all those years of peace and endless tea parties were going to make them rusty. They wore their fancy armour to veteran memorials still celebrated today, he remembered when he was a colt how proud those parades made him feel, the awe of their ancient glaives they'd used in their own battles. Now there was only a bitter disgust for them, relics of a bygone era. They were the true pretenders. Their mindset of ancient honour meant they were going to fight him one to one with a sword like his own, as 'honourable battle' dictated, and he would put them down. If they proved too difficult to fight even with their years of declination, then he would have them gunned down in several volleys, they would never survive such a thing. The Sisters were only immortal in the ageless sense, but they would die if blade or poison took them. His army had both, and more. 


Princess Celestia: Sol Invictus, Firstborn of Queen Aurora and King Somnus, Champion of the Light, Defender of the Realm, and Diarch of Equestria; sat calmly in her throne room as she heard the march of plated hooves approach the massive chamber. Lulu would be far away from the Royal Palace ensuring that all of their subjects in the surrounding areas were safe, she was a good little sister like that, it was a shame she might not be here to witness this little tryst; bittersweet as it would be, it was an important moment in history, and Lulu for all her calm reflection and demeanour, did have a darker side to her that enjoyed punishment of those that lacked respect, if it came to it. She truly hoped it wouldn't, there should be no more death.

The doors creaked again, being blown against with what she assumed was gunfire, several splinters of sun-blessed crystal chipped off, but the doors held strong. It was powerful magic, not the kind to easily fall to anything normal in means, but muskets and explosive casks... nasty creations of volatile powder and chemicals harvested from deep within the earth. It was a chaotic magic formed into modern weaponry, and a complete antithesis to the harmonious magic used in the creation of the doors defensive enchantments; they would eventually be breached.

Prince Cyrius, pride and joy of Equinisi and Solemn's son, was here.

She'd planned extensively to bait him into Canterlot, and to her own profound regret; good soldiers had sorrowfully died to ensure this plan would come to fruition. Several of her best in the Guard had bravely held the line to the bitter end while Lulu had carried out her duties, finishing only just before Cyrius had breached the gates of the city. As expected, nearly all of his soldiers had all come marching straight here, following their Prince loyally. They had clouded their approach with magically induced storms as cover from their mages, but even so, she'd known he was coming as soon as he'd entered Equestria's borders, scouts had passed word along the lines of spotters that he'd had their mage units teleport their army some of the way, but they could only progress on hoof after they came within her range and she blocked all magic from their group. Two of their mages had died trying to go against her own, their spells overloading their hearts with the pressure, they'd stopped after that.

It gave them additional time to make the evacuations, even if there was an issue in that so many of her subjects were proud, and they'd refused to run from such a false pretender. They'd only relented when they heard Princess Luna was coming to ensure they left. If one of their Princesses believed they needed to go, then they would heed her word. Luna had already given the order for all forces to retreat as far as they could, beyond those that held to their last so her little Ponies could be safe, taking subjects with them where needed, out the land, beyond the clouds, just away from Canterlot and the outlying areas as far as possible. She'd given her subjects within the outer areas ample warning, and the subjects within Canterlot that refused to leave even greater than that.

So long as everypony had gotten into their shelters or were far enough away, they would be completely safe from what was to come, and only a few more lives would need to be taken if necessary.

It ended now.


The mighty doors to the throne room finally burst inwards, they had not been barred, but still they were blown open by powerful explosives, the imbued magic was nothing against superior technology. Prince Cyrius led the force with powerful strides, his sword drawn in his magic, his soldiers following behind him with vigour.

But the throne room gave him a slight pause, the words he was going to speak died in his throat.

The only one here was Celestia.

She watched him, sitting atop her mighty golden throne, besides Luna's empty one, her violet-eyed gaze impassive and a touch cold, she looked almost sad to see the sight of him. Her regal and ornate golden armour she'd worn into battle all those years ago was nowhere to be seen, no ancient glaive -the powerful Sunspear- either, she was as naked and bare as the day she was born, beyond her formal regalia he remembered from many of their meetings in the past. She was beautiful as she always had been, a beauty that defied her years, the flowing pastels of her ethereal mane and shining golden aura made her a wonder to behold. But he held no love for her anymore, these things of her character had been soured. He felt a stir within his chest unrelated to her previous wonder though, thinking something was wrong at first, as there were no Guard here to defend her, but an even greater feeling had quickly surged and overtook his doubts.

She was surrendering. 

It made sense now, thinking quickly about it. He'd cut down her forces outside of Canterlot, having launched a quick offense from their forward base from the border, passing through Galloping Gorge completely undetected, they'd teleported a fair distance across the land before they had to stop and go on hoof. Celestia's own magic had blocked his ascent into Canterlot proper, and her Guard outside of Canterlot had been the only ones to meet them on the field below the mountain. He'd only lost a quarter of his own against their lines, entrenched as they had been; they'd been easy to fight when they eventually had to charge his force, or be blown apart by explosive casks. Instead they were blown apart by musket fire, and the rest to die met with swords. Those that had retreated before he came to this defensive line had been left to run as they no doubt went to assist others in getting away, but he wasn't going for pillaging and raiding today, as he had his objective.

He strode forwards, armour glinting as Celestia's Sun streamed through stained-glass windows against the plate, his thoughts idly wondered how the raising of the Sun and Moon would occur once the Diarchy was dead, but they had existed before the sisters, so they would endure after. It was an interesting thought to ponder on as he stopped just shy of the dais before the thrones.

He readied his sword.


She watched the Prince approach.

He was so cocksure. So brazen, just like the young colt she'd loved and played with all those years ago. His fiery golden hair, his beautiful lavender coat, and his azure eyes, one destroyed and covered up, but the other so radiant. He was as handsome and regal as a blood-relation of Cadence would be. She hadn't seen him since he was seven, and here he was, nineteen years of age, not long a stallion. She felt tears trail down her cheeks as his gaze was full of contempt for her, there was no love in his remaining eye.

"Auntie." He stated, glaring at her with his clear dislike. "I have come to end you."

"I know." She whispered, another few tears joining the others. "I wish you would not try, sweet Cyri."

"Don't you dare!" He snarled suddenly, waving his sword at her. She didn't flinch as the tip sailed through one of her cheeks, just slightly. It wasn't life-threatening at all, but it stung, stung far deeper into her than the cut on the surface. Salty tears mixed with the blood and it stung just a little more. She had the feeling she was not going to be able to solve this in a better way. "You don't get to call me that!"

"You're a stallion now, Cyri." She smiled solemnly as he glared at her second use of the nickname, nodding to herself. "That was the last time, then."

"Good, I should think so." He huffed, shooting her a look. "I am no mere colt, I have commanded armies and taken lives."

"Yes... yes, you have." Celestia shook her head, her eyes downcast. "Likely good soldiers, all of them. Fighting to defend their peoples, I imagine. They didn't deserve to die, but they have, for peace. You still have a cha-"

"What would you know of peace?!" Cyrius spat, stomping a hoof as he said the last word. "You led us into wars by refusing trade! Of course you can sit there and pretend you didn't directly cause Equinisi's struggles, but we did what we had to do, even with your attempts to box us in. My father ensured we thrived!"

Celestia resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow. She'd not been able to speak with Cyrius over the years as all contact had been cut off, even her messages sent by dragonfire never got to him, or to Solemn. But what had he been told?

"He started wars out of greed, Cyrius." Celestia ventured with a curious glance at her nephew, her tears stopped but for a moment. "We traded with him to ensure his little Kingdom would not collapse, and cut off trade when he started to invade the Deer. We sent in the Guard to reinforce those he was attacking and stop the invasions. We were quite successful, he hasn't expanded since his attempts on Minos."

"Oh, you wicked cur, you dare?! You barely gave the Kingdom anything to survive by, he built it up through conquest, the only viable choice against nations that heeded your word and refused trade with us! We're surrounded and starved, what else can be done?!" He shouted, waving the sword again, but Celestia gently leant back and avoided the point. The cut in her cheek had already healed, but the blood smear remained.

"Did he tell you that himself?" Celestia asked in gentle shock, so disappointed in herself. She should have seen it coming, of all the things she'd planned for and she'd never considered it. Of course, why wouldn't Solemn lie to his own son to get him to fight harder? She never simply travelled to Equinisi because of their standing issues, respected Solemn's wishes to not talk with Cyrius because they were on bad terms, he didn't want her to and it was a fair enough request. Solemn had never seemed the type to her, to lie so boldly to his own foal. She hadn't believed he could fall so far. "Tell me, you've been raised secluded from the larger world of politics, from what I have heard from the world, mainly fighting on the front lines of smaller wars. Have you heard any word of events from anypony that wasn't your father or his advisors?"

"I don't need to." Cyrius shook his head with determination. "He has never led me wrong, and he has never lied to me. Only the Diarchy has harmed me in any manner, and I have nothing but disdain for you."

Celestia nodded, smiling. But it was not a pleasant one. Her poor nephew had been indoctrinated from a young age. His mind twisted by a crueler Pony than himself, and used like a tool of war, likely trained and raised on fighting, and only being made to kill. It was not the way any Royal, Guard, or Pony should be raised at all.

"Oh, Cyrius..." Celestia said quietly, she felt tears beginning to well anew. She wasn't going to be able to stop him, she knew it. But she had to try. She begged him with all her might, her violet eyes widening. "I implore you, see reason. Do not strike at me, but instead listen. Sit with me, and I can explain everything. From the beginning of when Solemn left, the trading deals with Equinisi, the orders to keep him from invading others. We can sit, just you and I, have a nice cup of chamomile tea, your favourite if I recall. We can discuss this properly. But truly, I implore you: Do not strike at me. Please. It will be the last thing you d-"

In a flash, Cyrius's sword whistled through the air and impaled Celestia's heart between her ribs. She felt the jolt of pain as the muscle was pierced and attempted to pump around the offending weapon, haemorrhaging as it cut itself further apart. She took in a few shocked breaths as she met his hateful azure eye, his face was a grim mask of steel and anger. With a swift tug a scant second later, he pulled the sword free, and Celestia only felt sorrow and disappointment as her face dampened further, tears spilling freely much as her blood was. There was a terrible burning accompanying her chest wound, the open gash throbbing as if it was on fire, something she never felt from any level of flame, then seeing the small empty vial floating in Cyrius's golden magic, and the glowing liquid coating his blade. She gently rested back into her throne and waited, it was all she could do now, she hadn't expected such a level of foul play from him of all Ponies. The decision had been made for her.

"My blade is coated in Shadesap from the Wailing Isles out east, I believe you are familiar with their barbaric ways, but it's no less than you deserve. You will die within a few minutes, and it will be relatively painless. A mercy in a way, I wasn't expecting you to give me a straight shot at your heart." He intoned with a voice of hard stone, leaning in towards her. "I will wait for you to die before I cut it out, but only because you surrendered and accepted your death."

"I remember you as a young colt, sweet Cyri." Celestia crooned, blinking away tears as regalia-plated hoof travelled forwards slowly, he blanched in his anger at the nickname again, but allowed her to gently rest a hoof on his face. "It's how I will remember you, as my darling nephew that would barge into his father's meetings to request time from his beloved aunt. The handsome colt that I would hug and reassure when he fell over and cried. Not as this wicked stallion you've become, that made this choice."

He stared at her for a moment, before stepping back out of her reach. Celestia was still smiling, pain in her features. After he couldn't look in her eyes and glanced away, she decided to close hers quietly, settling down into the cushioned seat of her throne and breathing in one last time, shakily exhaling as the poison did its work. Her mane still flowed in a non-existent breeze, but she didn't move.

A long pause of her stillness, and Cyrius turned towards his soldiers, awed as they looked on. "The Sun Princess is dead. Find the other one, deliver the news of Celestia's death and she may fight, so blow her away in a hail of gunfire. If she comes quietly, bring her to me and I shall let her rest with her sister."

"But We art right here, dearest nephew." A voice darkly whispered, echoing in his ear so closely that he whipped around in surprise. He saw none but Celestia on her throne, still motionless as the wound in her chest trickled darkened blood, the Shadesap having tainted the liquid and making the area around it blacken and twist angrily, corrupting the flesh from the inside out.

Then she appeared, from a wide shadow in the corner of the chamber, the purest umbra the likes of which he couldn't see into, clad in her ancient iridescent battle regalia as she stepped forwards from the whispering black, the dark wisps of smoke clinging and fading off her ornate armour from her exit of the nether realm. He had always been quite disturbed that she could travel in such a manner, she was like the old foals tales of Nightmare Moon come alive, and if what he'd heard was true, she'd been there and done that a few years ago upon her return. She didn't currently have wicked fangs or a blackened mane of pure midnight dotted with chaotic constellations that warped a Pony's mind, but she was still intimidating. He'd always preferred Celestia's company to Luna's when he had been a colt.

She stood tall over him as she approached, her own glaive, the shining silver Moonspear, resting undrawn upon her back within its harness. She wasn't as tall as Celestia but she was no less towering as an Alicorn. He readied his sword as she slowly moved closer, but didn't withdraw her spear.

"Draw!" He commanded, keeping his sword between them, the slick sheen of crimson blood and sickly-green poison shining off the blade. "I challenge you."

"And We decline thee." Luna dismissed with scorn, glancing with a measure of discomfort and muteness as she looked at Celestia. She fixed her attention back to Cyrius with a disgusted grimace. "Thy own kin, prithee tell; hath thee no shame? Thou hath caused her harm."

"I would say that I have caused her more than harm." Cyrius grinned, trying to anger her, she'd always been quick to it when he bothered her in his youth, spending time with her was always minimal compared to Celestia. The second she lashed out he would parry, duck, and make a lunge for that gap between her chestplate and gorget, only covered by a light silvery chainmail. If he recalled correctly, the linked metal was almost purely silver and more ornamental, the enchantments of the ancient armour lay only on the plate, his sword would pierce it with ease. "I would say she has come down with a very serious case of death."

"It pains Us greatly to see thee pretending at maturity, thou art but a simple foal and we always saw thou wert destined for folly. Thou art a simple bastard born out of wedlock, which for all his faults thy father at the very least wast not." Luna scoffed, rolling her eyes as he bristled from her insults and she calmly walked over to Celestia. She leant down, gently poking her dead sister on the forehead, and then sitting down on her own throne beside the larger mare, smiling to herself as she spoke to the body. "Hark, Tia, must thou play at such games? The poor colt lauds himself as a conqueror but struts much as a preened pigeon, this is as bad as when thou sent Twilight only two invitations to the Gala, thou jest is in poor taste."

Celestia's corpse twitched as it spoke. "Well I needed to see if he truly regretted 'killing' me, Lulu."

Cyrius balked as Celestia simply raised her head, blinking as if she'd just awoken from a short nap and was just a little groggy. The wound in her chest closed up within seconds, burning as if magma had been poured into the wound, and the Shadesap poison that had spread and caused necrosis of the surrounding tissues was burned away as the gash in her chest sealed itself shut, flesh knitting together and fur regrowing over the skin, a warm glow emanating from within her chest. After it had finished, Celestia sat up straight and regarded him with a deeply unfathomable gaze that... made his chest ache, as if he'd done something awful, that was unthinkable to him to have such thoughts. Simple mind games from her magic.

"I am so, so disappointed in you, Cyrius." Celestia said, her sad tone quite even in its sincerity, as were her tears. She sighed, shaking her head with a shaky breath. "I was hoping that you might feel some remorse in stabbing me, but no... You truly hate me."

"Yes." Cyrius replied, bewildered. The Royal Sisters were not truly immortal, they couldn't be. His father had told him that they pretended they were, simply for show. In which case, it would take more than Shadesap to kill them if they could heal their injuries or push death away long enough to heal, many ancient skilled mages could do the same. He took a few steps back as he waved his musketeers forwards, the Ponies and Gryphons that made up the units carefully marched into the centre of the room. "Gun them down. My aunts can regenerate, so leave nothing of them left to do so with."

"Utter folly." Luna stated with a deep sigh. She looked at Celestia, who seemed downcast at the command. "Did we not tell thee, Tia? Prithee tell Us thou wilt deal with him now? He intended to slay thee, sister, Us too, and We do not generally appreciate those that try to slay Us, not often."

"I will give him one final chance." Celestia told her, turning her attention back to Cyrius with an incredulous smile, who stood behind his musketeers as they formed a double firing line and prepared their firearms. "But... it does not seem like he will stop."

"We would prefer that thou not be gored to pieces, it does make such a terrible mess, and We know not when the maids shalt be returning." Luna sighed, raising an eyebrow and fixing Celestia with a concerned glare. "Thou always give them so many chances, and yet, they relent not."

The firing line was complete, the first row knelt or rested lightly on their haunches, muskets raised and prepared for the order.

"I will always give them the final chance, Lulu." Celestia whispered to Luna, sparing one last longing look at Cyrius, her eyes tearfully pleading with him. "Cyri... lower the weapons."

Cyrius met her violet eyes, prepared to speak the order, only pausing for a fraction of a second as he contemplated their words, spoken so openly in front of him as if this was something they'd done hundreds of times. Celestia's eyes were so full of emotion, her disappointment was immeasurable to such magnitude that he felt as if father had berated him, and that was extremely disturbing because he despised this old mare and her sister. But... it was what had to be done. Truly, there was no sense getting cold hooves now when he'd come so far, he'd kill them and return to father. Maybe not cut out their hearts, that was some vitriol on his part, and maybe that had been taking it too far.

He would kill them though, there was no stopping that.

He raised his head high, nodding to them both as a final farewell.

"Ready!" Cyrius shouted. His soldiers did so with haste. There was a nagging sense in the back of his head as he prepared, but he squashed it down and took in a breath, steeling himself as he shouted aloud. "Fire!"

And the throne room briefly ceased to exist.

Legends whispered throughout Equus dubbed it The Hammer of Dawn.

Triggers on muskets had been pulled just as the sky echoed with light and sound as a resounding shockwave shot down a deathly great cylindrical beam of pure burning fire, blasting down into the Royal Palace within the space of a second. Musket shot melted before it left the warping barrels they were fired from, the great stained-glass windows shattered then bubbled as the surrounding area was vapourised in a fiery white-hot explosion, and then some. Ponies could only guess at just how hot the concentration of solar plasma was, but they'd only ever be able to guess. The pillar of blinding light continued to burn intensely with a terrible rancour for just a few seconds longer as stone cracked and fizzled, the ground was utterly ravaged with the powerful heat that even made the air itself burn up, impossible to breathe in as the oxygen was consumed. And just as quick as it had begun, it had ceased.

Celestia's eyes still shone radiantly like the golden dawn while the fiery aura that licked around her gently illuminated alabaster-coat slowly dissipated, the ember-like arcane wisps fluttering into nothing as her melting gold regalia rapidly cooled and began to set around her neck and hooves. The energy waned, her mane alight as the purest flame returned to it's gentle flowing self as it waved around, and her eyes faded back into their normal beautiful violet once again. She gently wiped away the golden rivulets of magma her tears had turned into with a small sniff, wishing desperately that things could have been wholly different.

The Royal Palace was an absolute mess, to say the least. What remained of the throne room's centre was a pool of cooling molten slag and rock, the surrounding rooms were likewise still melting like wax candles. The castle's outermost walls were intact, but likely very warm to the touch, and its outside gardens were powder, the grass and dirt turned into cracked off-brown glass. The beam may have been less heated on its outer edges than its centre, but she felt it was a miracle the Royal Palace was still standing. Any finery and regal trimmings that had been present were utterly gone, burned to ash and the ash burned to nothing by the intense heat. She'd really tried to tone down the overwhelming power of her Sun as best as she could, concentrating her magic into such a small area was a great matter of precision that took preparation so that she hadn't encompassed the entirety of Canterlot in the inferno itself, stopping the majority of the sheer spread of heat that would have washed over Ponies and cooked them alive, but not all of it. She'd been preparing it since Cyrius had stabbed her, as a contingency she truly wished would not come to pass.

"Thy peytral hath melted into thine chest, dear sister." Luna wryly observed beside her with a snort. Celestia slowly panned her head around to see that Lulu was sitting quite comfortably on her silver throne with a humourless smirk, the seat, and her ornate armour and weapon still perfectly intact. The highly enchanted metal was completely untouched by her extreme arcane magic, if a bit warm. They'd both laid in spellwork during the creation of many items for such occasions, if only her current regalia was similarly imbued, but it had only been created some three-hundred years ago, she probably should enchant it once it was reforged. Lulu waved a hoof from her finery towards the room's centre. "Less than they are, though."

What remained of the army that invaded the chamber was a rather unfortunate sight. She'd brought the blazing pillar of death down on the musketeers directly, and they'd been completely decimated by the flame until barely anything had remained. Within the still-cooling liquid composed of stone and metal slag, of which the metal mostly came from their enchanted armour, lay slightly colourful splashes in varying shades of crimson amidst the glowing cherry-red bone shards that somehow hadn't been incinerated in the beam as it had raged. Cyrius had been standing just behind them, a few hooves back, and while the flesh had been reduced to nothing, a few of his bones had survived intact beneath a few shards of slagged armour.

His army that came with him, the furthest from the blastwave but still in the room, were quite burnt up, but at the least just about identifiable as the remains of creatures, their weapons and armour all in differing levels of being melted into their corpses. Worst of all this damage was the stench. It invaded the senses and never became any easier to take in. It was a grim reminder of just how much even a minute fraction of Celestia's power could destroy the world around her.

The Hammer of Dawn left nothing living standing in its wake, unless that living being was an immortal Alicorn. The same as it had roughly a thousand years ago, when she'd brought it down upon six armies vying for control of Equus to bring peace to a chaotic world. After their defeat of Discord and an end to his reign of terror, many peoples had decided to try and take a majority slice for themselves, and in the end despite their calls for peace, the Sisters had gone to war, and when the war would not end, Celestia had employed her ultimate weapon to force that peace into position.

It was not something to use lightly, and not without precedent. The two immortal siblings could have easily slain the invaders into their Royal Palace with such ease they wouldn't have broken a sweat. But sadly, that would not have gotten the results that were required. Employing the Hammer of Dawn was a tactical choice. Simply killing Cyrius if he didn't agree to talk would have only angered Solemn into lashing out with all he had, and Celestia knew her nephew; he would send everything he had to try to destroy the Diarchy, it was likely that he would call in the banners he had conquered and conscript them to fight, and in turn she would have to raise a force to repel him in a bloody drawn out war the likes of which Equestria hadn't seen since the last time that the Hammer was utilised. But in the end, he would still fail and die at her hooves or the Guard's, and the bodycount would number within the millions, if not more. However, using the most powerful weapon in her arsenal to kill his son, now that sent a message that ran deeper than just nepoticide.

Equinisi's pride and joy had been burned to charred remains, and if the King raised his hoof against Equestria as Cyrius had done, he would be very likely to meet a similar fate. A weapon that he knew from the legends told of it could be summoned wherever she so wished, and could strike him even where he thought he was safe.

With this move, he would back down. He'd stop trying to expand, maybe release the lands held in thrall, and he might even abdicate. That would be nice, not having such a warmonger on a throne, and with any luck it might even be a painless transition of power. Maybe Equinisi could form a republic if its semi-recent monarchistic roots crumbled, it would make an interesting change of pace.

She'd have to wait and see how the pieces fell. For now, the message would be spreading across the outer lands. Ponies even as far out as Equinisi must have seen the Hammer of Dawn on the horizon, if only briefly, it was like looking at the Sun itself at a greater magnitude. Word of its usage would likely become part of the legend, and she knew her little Ponies would see it as her having vanquished invaders. It wasn't all they had been, not all Cyrius had been, once upon a time. She'd have to dispel so many corrosive texts about the events and set the story to be told in history. There would be a lot of work and cleanup of the Royal Palace too.

She felt one last tear fall down her cheek as her horn glowed in gold, levitating the slagged armour pieces from Cyrius's corpse over to herself. She would give Solemn the remains of his bones, but these armour pieces would be interred here in the castle, as a reminder of the cost it had taken to avoid a massive war. She'd made her choice as he'd made his, but it didn't mean it rested easily on her soul. Sometimes she wished she was as carefree as Lulu could be regarding those that wished her ill, but she could never bring herself to truly hate anypony, not even Cyrius that had stabbed her in the heart.

With a look to the horizon out towards Equisini, easy to do as there was a large hole in the Royal Palace, she pondered on what tomorrow would bring, hoping it would be better than today. There would be celebration once the bells tolled again, as Ponies left their shelters and felt joy at their safety. She'd go out before them and deliver a speech, just as she had before in front of the survivors of the old war, and she'd declare it there again.

She was Sol Invictus and Defender of the Realm. She'd always protect her little Ponies against all threats, and always take pains upon herself to ensure that war never came again, do everything within her power to stop it dead in its tracks. It wasn't an easy task to have, but it was the duty she was sworn to carry out.

"Sister?" Luna said beside her.

"Yes, Lulu?" Celestia replied, running a hoof over an armour shard.

"It was necessary." She simply said, patting the hoof that held the slagged piece. "Thou took no pleasure in it, but it needed to be done."

Celestia nodded. She took a moment to compose herself, and got to her hooves with a burdened sigh at her surroundings. There really was so much to do, and the day was only at its zenith.

She was going to need some tea.