A butterfly landed on Celestia's snout, and the mare, lying on her side, stayed silent and still as she watched it stand frozen for a minute before fluttering away.
It was that time of the year again - the time for Celestia to lie in a random spot in the Canterhorn Valley for hours on end. However, it wasn't really a random spot. She had markers to tell her where she was. Over there was a trench covered in moss, and the large rock beside it surrounded by candles and covered in carvings of countless names let her know that it was the right one amongst the endless rows of similarly looking trenches nearby reclaimed by nature. And so it was, year after year, that the mare made sure to arrive at that very same hill and land on it hauling a basket of goods to rest for a while with before the dawn broke.
After a quick breakfast, her annual ritual properly commenced, and Celestia got to watch the sun rise over lush, rolling hills of flowers and brush against the purple backdrop of the mighty Foal Mountains whilst the cold morning mist washed over her and filled her body with a crisp and heavenly coolness. At that moment, Celestia lied flat on her side, her mane and coat damp from the grassy dew, smelling pollen and taking short naps here and there.
Sometimes, people passed by on a dirt road below, but none dared disturb the big, white alicorn lady with the magically-flowing pastel mane snugly lying atop a hill surrounded by beds of flowers. Most glanced her way and stared in confusion before quietly walking off somewhere else, but there were some who were old enough or simply saw her frequently enough to quietly realize the importance of leaving her alone. Celestia thanked them for that.
As noon approached and the warm sun slowly rolled by along the lazy blue skies, Celestia found herself thinking again like she had always done for as long as she could remember. There were many things on her mind, but at the forefront stood the very reason why she flew every year to a valley filled with deep scars made of mossy earthwork and discarded casings.
Celestia had already reflected upon her greatest failure in a thousand years countless times before. Tragedy filled that nightmare from end to end - not least among them the horrific carnage that transpired at the very hallowed grounds she lied upon - and every time she looked back on it, she always found another thing to add to her towering pile of regrets. One of them was on her mind at that moment, and it let itself play in her head over and over again like all the others had.
For many, the autumn of 1016 was the light at the end of the tunnel, and Celestia held similar regards, but people did not usually think about all the death that still happened in those twilight days of the conflict. There were those who were unlucky enough to never see the end and instead, saw their own.
All across the so-called Standoff Line which stretched from the borderlands of eastern Olenia to the frozen tundras around the Sorythian Key Lake, things were quiet. Thoraxian and Olenian soldiers nervously stood their ground against Equestrian forces who, just a month ago, were threatening to break the hastily formed coalition just as they had shattered Chrysalis' Vesalian regime in the summer of that very same year.
Fortunately, as chaos gripped Canterlot in the midst of a crisis after the fall of Vesalipolis, Equestrian generals earlier that year wisely chose to stop carrying out orders to continue advancing from a government that was, seemingly out of nowhere, very quickly falling apart, and Celestia was grateful for that. However, it didn't stop the needless loss of life that still occurred nonetheless.
An uneasy truce was made between the two armies, and the line was formed, but the quiet wasn't so quiet, and the cracks were showing as skirmishes around the outskirts of Ditrysium and Seaddle sparked from accidents and misunderstandings were putting it all in danger. The fighting kept happening despite people's best efforts, and it kept happening even after Harmony was properly restored in Equestria and Thorax shook hooves with the princesses.
How cruel was it to die in a war right before or even well after a peace had been signed all because people at the top and some at the bottom still held a grudge and wanted to keep going against an enemy that no longer wanted to fight?
It was Celestia's fault, really. She was the one who had planted and cultivated that seed of hatred and mistrust for the changelings in her own government when she had lost it which then trickled down into the already frustrated soldiers and civilians suffering at the front, and all that came back to bite her when the time came. So while ministers were squabbling unsupervised over what to do with the Thoraxians as Daybreaker locked herself in her room wrestling with her own conscience, soldiers from both sides young and old were forced to train their aim at each other, and some unfortunately pulled the trigger.
The ghosts of the war would forever haunt Celestia. From the guards slaughtered at the border at the very beginning to the soldiers who drowned in mud and blood and snow fighting in the fields and trenches of the Canterhorn Valley and the smoldering, cratered streets of Vraks to the ones whose lives were stolen from them at the very last minute, they all stood before their fallen princess asking her why she couldn't do anything to see past her anger and look at all those she was hurting trying to save. And as the warmth of the midday sun wrapped around her, Celestia closed her eyes to sleep once more knowing that some of those who never woke up again to be able to feel the sun shining bright upon her body would follow her there as well.
At least one thing was for certain though. Both the living and the dead had seen the end of the war one way or another, and Celestia knew that as the flowers bloomed and life went on that, eventually, even just for a moment, all would finally be truly at peace.