//------------------------------// // Galaxy-Rise // Story: As Long as the Earth's Orbit // by Cynewulf //------------------------------// The sun never set on the Empire of Grover III. From coast to coast of Griffonia, his mighty claw extended over pony and griffon alike. The minotaurs grudgingly paid him homage, the confederations of Zebrica sent him gifts, and even the ponies of Equestria respected his might. But it was not to be, for his empire was short lived. A scant ten years and then it was all ash in the mouths of his sons and daughters, and worse for everyone else they ruled.  And so, no one said again of a Griffon king that he ruled as long or as wide as the sun roamed. They knew better. That time crushes even empires. This is no empire, and the suns of a thousand worlds can never crush it. The universe sings, and those who listen can sing with it. A thousand thousand worlds singing in the brightness of a galaxy full of jewel-stars. They sing for Rarity as her ship detaches from the proud frigate and drifts amiably down to earth. It hits orbit like a grandmother taking questing steps downstairs. It lounges over the continents like a cat in a sunbeam. And Rarity sits on its bridge, and hums with the universe. The center of all things, or at least of the galaxy, was a black hole bigger than the equine mind could comprehend. It was so dense that it annihilated. Its nature bent physics into knots. And it was not alone! But it is no monster. It is beautiful. It is the ravenous, questing heart of a living galaxy. It wants because it lives. It defies understanding, and yet it invites us to witness it, gravity tugging at all of us. Its love is destructive, but is that its own fault? Twilight waited on the landing pad attached to her palace in High Canterlot, waiting. Above, somewhere crossing the metallic rings where millions made their homes surrounding Equus, her love was coming home. Her glory was blinding, some days. But ponies could bear it. She was alien, and yet somehow always familiar. As Rarity had proven ever-moving, so Twilight had proved never-moved. She had become the beating, questing heart of her own living world. She invited all, loved all, wanted all. She never stopped searching for new things from the comfort of her own soil. New books, new conferences, new inventions, new magic. Forever up and forever in. And out there, at last, her wife returning, drawn back in by her immeasurable gravity. The sun was rising. It would set again, when her love came, in the waning hours of the day.  “She’ll be surprised,” Twilight said to the ponies at her sides. “It has been far too long. We old mares have to stick together,” Celestia, no longer a princess, added with a smile. Luna laughed. And Rarity sailed home.