//------------------------------// // 10. Departure // Story: An Early Reunion // by RainbowDoubleDash //------------------------------// Celestia – Cadenza – awoke and immediately wished that she had not. Even after consciousness returned to her, she lay in the bed that she found herself in, lying on her side. Her eyes were open, but she simply stared blankly straight ahead, out a window in the room that showed clear blue skies and a few birds, heedless of the black pit that her life had suddenly become, flitting by every now and then. “Majesty?” A familiar voice asked when she moved a wing, but only to drag the covers of the bed over her head in disgust at the sight of the beautiful day outside. Cartasole briefly came into view before linen obscured her vision, though she could still see his silhouette on the other side of the sheet. “Majesty, art thou awake?” “No,” Cadenza responded. The paradox of her statement failed to confuse Cartasole. “Princess Luna has…informed me of her decision regarding thee.” Cadenza moved the bedsheet from off of her face, staring at Cartasole for several moments, sitting up and taking in a few breaths. “I…I am not Celestia reborn. Thy contract was gifted to me by the Exarch because he believed that I was. As that is not the case, thy…thy contract is null and void. I release thee from thy indenture. I will see if I can beg money from the Exarch to fulfill thy freedom dues.” Cartasole blinked a few times, wings ruffling slightly. “Grazi, Majesty,” he said. Cadenza stared. “I am not Celestia, Cartasole,” she said softly. “Thou dost not need to refer to me as ‘majesty.’” She looked down, at her own hooves. “Thou dost not need to refer to me as anything at all. I am nothing.” Cartasole shook his head. “I do not believe that.” The alicorn looked up, glaring. “Without...without being Celestia reborn, I am nothing. I have nothing, I deserve nothing. I am just, just a stupid filly who thought that she couldst masquerade as – ” “Princess Luna wishes to see thee at thy earliest convenience,” Cartasole interrupted. Cadenza blinked, not certain if she could remember when the last time Cartasole had interrupted her was. Then again, he had just been released from his contract…he was his own pony now, and Cadenza was nothing. She nodded, standing glancing at herself in the mirror, before trudging from the room, head held low enough that the end of her mane brushed the stone floor beneath her and not caring about the numerous small bruises on her body from her duel with Luna, her ruffled and somewhat tangled mane, nor even her bare flank. She noticed, after a moment, that Cartasole was following her. “Thou dost not have to wait upon me hoof and mouth anymore,” she noted. “Well,” Cartasole said, “as thou hast released me from my contract, I am now, in fact, unemployed. So I wonder if thou shalt be in need of a retainer?” “No,” Cadenza intoned, looking straight ahead as she wandered aimlessly through Canterlot. She had no idea where she was going. She probably could have stopped and asked any of the servants of Canterlot that she was passing as to where Luna was, but she found she didn’t care. “I don’t need anything. I shan’t need anything.” “Thou art still an alicorn.” “So?” Cadenza demanded, turning to glare at Cartasole. “What does that even mean? I’ll tell you: nothing!” She turned from Cartasole and began trotting again. “Luna does not rule Equestria because she is an alicorn. She earned it. Earned it because of who she is, not what she is. Celestia as well, before she went mad. Me? I am nothing, I have nothing!” She turned once more on Cartasole. “Every gift of Cavallia, of the Exarch, was given to me because of what I was thought to be. Every meal, every dress, thy own contract! Because I was to be a Princess!” Cadenza turned from Cartasole again, but didn’t resume her halfhearted search for Luna. Instead, she cantered over to a window and collapsed in front of it, laying her head on its sill and staring out at the decaying, half-empty city of Canterlot. “I have to go back to my family,” she said softly. “I must tell them that the Exarch was wrong. What then? Am I to be a vitner again?” She chuckled. “Ten-odd years of living like a princess. Now I shall go back to being a farmer. Oh well…most don’t even get that. I suppose I should count myself as lucky. Ten-odd years of living like a princess…and now an eternity of being a vitner as penance for my presumption. I wasn’t very good at it. Except stomping grapes, I suppose. But anypony with good legs can do that. Otherwise I was never very good at making wine, or growing grapes. I wasn’t bad…just not good.” Cartasole stared at Cadenza, sitting on the floor of Canterlot, wings sagging, staring ahead with glassy eyes: the perfect image of depression. After several long moments, she cast her glance at the pegasus, though she didn’t move her head. “Wherefore at thou still here?” she asked. Cartasole offered a shrug. “If my contract is terminated, then I can be anywhere I like,” he said, trotting over to Cadenza and sitting down next to her. “Majesty – ” “Stop that.” “I don’t call thee Majesty because I think of thee as a Princess,” he said. “I call thee Majesty because of who thou art.” “I am nothing.” Cartasole frowned deeply at that. “Oh?” he asked. “So only because thou believed thyself to be Celestia didst thou stand tall against the Princess of the Night just yesterday for my sake.” Cadenza eyed him as he continued. “Only because of that didst though charge Luna herself to see that I was not arrested.” Cadenza blinked a few times. “N…nay,” she said softly. “’Twould not have been right…thou were there only because of me.” “Seems the actions of a true princess,” Cartasole insisted. “If I may use thy own words…thou art not what thou believed thyself to be. But thou art still thyself. It does not matter if thou shalt become a Princess or not. Thy actions, thy heart, is far more important than thy name or heritage.” He drew back, wings spread a bit in pride. “Thou shalt remain a Princess in mine eyes, even if in no one else’s – even if not in thy own. Not because of what thou art, but because of who.” Cadenza looked away, back out at the decaying city of Canterlot, and Cartasole sighed, his own wings sagging slightly – at least until one of Cadenza’s large, swan-like wings reached out and folded around him, drawing Cartasole into a deep hug. The pegasus didn’t hesitate at all in returning it as tightly as he could. --- The room was large, made of polished marble with a floor of smooth granite, and with tall windows filled with stained glass lining its walls, the windows depicting great events in Equestrian history, and pillars decorated with ancient writings outlining the fundamental laws of Equestria, by what right the Princess reigned and the fundamental expectations of each of the three pony tribes. It had a long, thick red carpet running through its middle, leading up to a raised platform that one had to ascend a dozen wide steps to reach the summit of. But, the room could not properly be called the throne room, not anymore, as it lacked what should have been its defining feature. Nopony yet knew what had happened to the golden throne from which Celestia, during the day, and Luna, at night, had once reigned over the Courts. It had simply disappeared at some point during the twelve-year absence of Luna from Canterlot, and had not turned up – not that anypony was looking particularly hard for it, it being made of that metal which was now anathema within Canterlot, and was slowly becoming such throughout the rest of Equestria as well, as well as the throne having been long associated with Celestia over Luna. With the coffers of the royal treasury being emptied as soon as they were filled to pay for repairs and reparations throughout Equestria, it would not soon be replaced. True, Luna could have conjured a throne for herself out of pure magic, but something seemed wrong about that. The throne had to be forged by ponies, belong, fundamentally, to ponies, not to her. As it stood, she rarely held Court these days anyway, what with so few nobles coming to Canterlot, and her being busy with more involved affairs of state anyway that usually required access to maps, charts, and ledgers which were simply easier to keep near the library, where she instead more frequently met with her council. This, of course, made the throne room an ideal hiding spot. Her chambers were unreachable except by teleportation or flying through the window, but there were several systems in place by which ponies could contact her in there if need be. The throne room, on the other hoof, lacked such systems. Here, she could be alone with her thoughts, at least provided none of the servants came in to give the place a dusting, something which happened only every week or so anyway. She had left Starlight Shine in the balcony room, where he might consider all that she had told him, revise his opinions on her, decide how he wanted to handle the new information available to him. She had lingered only long enough to have him swear to breathe not a word of what she had told him to anypony, as long as he lived. He made the promise easily enough, but Luna estimated there being even odds as to whether he would remain in her service, or leave Canterlot and return to his home on the border of the province of Xenophon and the decaying nation of Latigo. If he did leave, she supposed she would have to give him some kind of reward for his years of loyalty… The doors to the throne room opened. Luna sighed, looking behind her – and froze when she saw who was approaching her: Cadance. A vague part of her mind marveled at the fact that this was the second time that her unknowing daughter’s appearance had managed to shock her into immobility, but for the most part, she just stared. Cadance looked a mess, having not yet cleaned herself from the contests of the previous night. Her mane was tangled, her coat ruffled, there were light bruises across her body…but her eyes held a look of surprising determination, not the utter defeat and nihilism that they had held just this morning after she had emerged from the heart of the sun and her encounter with Corona – with her mad aunt. Luna forced movement into her limbs, forced herself to overcome her shock. She had been sitting at the base of the steps that would have led to the throne, if it had been there, but as Cadence neared she stood. “Cadenza,” she said, by way of greeting. She resisted the urge to cringe at the name, as she had every time she’d said it or heard it previously. There was nothing wrong with it, it was beautiful in its own way, but it was not what she had named her…in her distraught state twenty years ago, she had not been careful enough, it seemed, in implanting Cadance’s name into her adoptive mother’s mind. She truly had given nothing to her own daughter – not even her name… Cadance stopped before Luna, considering a moment, before bowing deeply. That hurt Luna even more, and the elder alicorn quickly trotted up to Cadance. “No,” she insisted. “No, don’t bow to me. Never bow to me. I don’t…thou dost not have to.” Cadance rose, and to Luna’s infinite relief she seemed to do so not because of Luna’s command, but rather because she understood that as an alicorn herself, she was more like Luna’s equal, and certainly not her subject. Cadance seemed to be gathering her thoughts, preparing to say something profound. “I am returning to Cavallia,” she said at length, glancing to Luna as though seeking approval. Luna died inside. She did not let it show, however, instead simply nodding. “To thy…thy parents,” she responded. Cadance nodded as well, looking down. “There is no reason for me to be in Equestria if I am not Celestia,” she said. There is thy mother! Luna wanted to cry out. But she didn’t. “I…I must return to Cavallia. I must…think. I must think about a great many things, about myself, about…about where I intend to go. What I intend to do with my life, if I am not to guide the Sun.” “I understand,” Luna said softly. “When dost thou intend to leave?” “As soon as possible,” Cadance said. “I do not think it would be good for me to linger here. I dreamed of living here, with thou as my sister…I do not think it would be healthy for me to remain here, so close to that dream. Not now. With thy permission, I should like to leave immediately.” Luna wanted to deny Cadance that permission, but instead found herself nodding her head. Cadance…she had a lot to deal with now. Too much. She did not need to have her true heritage added to that load. She didn’t need to have Luna break down in front of her, to cry, to wail, to beg forgiveness for what she had done twenty years ago. She needed to see Luna as she envisioned Luna to be: strong, resolute, unflappable. Luna could be that, if that was what her daughter needed her to be. Cadance turned around, setting off for the entrance to the throne room head held high. Luna stood firm herself. But she knew it wouldn’t last. She knew, as surely as she knew anything, that once Cadance had left Canterlot, it would begin again. She would head down into the bowels of Canterlot Castle, to the wine cellar, and woe to any pony who tried to stop her. She would drink herself into oblivion to forget the pain in her chest, the pain she would now carry with her through eternity. And she would crawl from that oblivion only to seek out more wine, more alcohol of any variety, to try and drown the sorrow that Cadance didn’t ever need to see. Because if Cadance wasn’t near, the Luna simply couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t run Equestria, not without her sister to provide the same solid rock that she was providing for Cadance right now, not without utterly shattering Cadance’s perceptions of the world by revealing everything. Luna wasn’t strong enough, she just couldn’t – Cadance stopped her trot, turning around to look at Luna. “But,” she said, her voice hopeful. “But…I wonder if I might visit? Every now and then? I cannot bear to be in Equestria now, but…but later?” Luna stared at Cadance as though the younger alicorn had just lit up with all the bright, comforting warmth of the sun. “Of course,” she answered softly. “Thou shalt always be welcome here. Always.” Cadance offered a smile at that. It wasn’t a particularly bright one, but – but for a moment – Luna didn’t see her as she was. She saw a small filly, with only a nub of a horn and tiny wings, standing on shaking, new legs, and looking at Luna as though she were the whole world. It was only an instant. In the next, Cadance was as she was supposed to be, walking from the throne room, closing the door behind her. Luna lasted only another moment, only long enough to magically shield the door against any attempt to open it, before her legs gave out, and she fell to the floor, tears flowing freely from her eyes, but not tears of despair. She could do it. She could bear the pain in her chest, she could continue to reign over Equestria without her sister. She couldn’t tell Cadance of her heritage now – but one day. And Luna could soldier on for that day. It would not be easy. But it would be worth it. --- Cadenza paused just outside of the throne room after having closed its doors behind her. She didn’t know why Luna had seen fit to stand in there alone, and hadn’t wanted to ask. She supposed a being as ancient as Luna could have any number of quirks – she idly wondered if she’d pick up a few of her own as time went by. It was not, however, Luna’s quirks that had given Cadenza pause. Instead, it had been the look that Luna had affixed her with. Up until that moment, Luna had always appeared stoic, content, sure of herself, sure of everything around her. She was a solid rock of a being. But for just a moment, Cadenza thought she had seen a chink in that solid rock, and Luna had looked at her with… Cadenza wasn’t sure what the emotion was, other than overwhelming, to the point where it seemed as though the young alicorn could actually feel it. She was half-tempted to knock on the throne room’s door and inquire about what she had just seen, but decided against it. Cartasole – her loyal retainer no longer, but still her loyal friend, as he had always been – had waited outside the throne room for her. She looked to him with an expression that was half-smile, and half determination. “Let’s go home, Cartasole,” she said. “The Princess has enough on her mind without me around to add more to it.”