//------------------------------// // S15 — Dawn // Story: Where Only Silver Shines // by Etyco Filly //------------------------------// The Morrigan tapped her hoof on her throne as she contemplated my proposal. The noise echoed around the empty room, which somehow seemed even larger than when we had first entered it. New crystal lamps lined the walls, illuminating everything in a uniform, cold light. “Then it is settled. Thou shalt receive five hundred golden bits and the deed to a large plot of land. Additionally, House Fell shall deliver upon thee one hundred golden bits yearly for the upcoming five decades. I shall have a scribe decree this deal, and thou shouldst be able to leave within the week.” Her solemn, official smile drove a dagger into my heart. Arawn had worn it often, but I had never been its recipient. Behind it, she could hide anything from apathy, through anger, to despair. Yet something was off. I had stared at that face enough to know even the smallest tells. “Your Highness, is everything alright?” Addressing her like this would never stop hurting, would it? Good thing it would soon be over. She raised her brow, then relaxed back to her polite smile. “I suppose thou wouldst see it.” She sighed. “’Tis true that the gold will duly be missed in the years to come, though rest assured: my gift to thee shall not endanger House Fell. I even dare hope our alliance with thy shire will prove favourable.” Of course. What had I even hoped for? That she was sad to see me go? After a few steps towards the exit, I turned around. “Before I go, let me ask something of you, Lady Morrigan.” Her ears perked up, brow high. “I beg your honesty: do you think I made the right choice? In staying here with Arawn.” One last empty reassurance. Maybe it would mean something when it came from the mare who wore my beloved’s face. She thought about it. “’Tis a matter of perspective. Whether thou hast taken the right decision depends solely on who thou askest. The sarosian families will be grateful to thee for generations, once thy name enters the history books.” She took a few steps to the left of her throne. “The prisoners, were they to understand the intricacies of the circumstances, would too be grateful to thee.” Would they? “Many would have lost their lives before the evacuation order. Few would have survived through it. As prisoners, they would have been the last to leave.” Once again, she made her way to the other side. “Aurora and the Knights, too, owe thee a great deal. Many would have perished, had thou not fought by them.” The Morrigan stopped, turning to face me. “Though these are all positives thou hast brought ponies, they are only a fragment of the answer thou seekest. Only thou canst decide whether thou hast taken the right path.” My ears folded, I forced myself to meet her gaze and held in the urge to paw at the ground. “I know, but that’s exactly what I’m trying to figure out.” I looked up at her with a weak smile on my muzzle. “But you haven’t answered my question. What about your perspective?” Why had she avoided the question to begin with? She frowned, looking at me with those sad, cold eyes. She dared pity me? Then again, how could I blame her? My question was basically a plea for pity. What had I expected? A magical answer that would wash all my regrets away? “I believe that thou hast made a mistake.” My heart stopped. Sank. What? But how? Why? “The Tower was never intended to fall into mortal hooves. I understand that now. It is like a wound, desperately trying to heal. Our grasp on it keeps it open. Keeps it festering.” Her eyes full of melancholy, she reminded me of Arawn. How often had I seen that look on her? Shut up, brain. “Then why hold on?” I pointed to the other side of the room, where I suspected the exit might open.  “Evacuate everypony and let go.” “I cannot. I would forsake the sarosian families. Outside, many would starve to death, while many others would be persecuted. They would not only lose their way of life, but their homes as well.” I opened my mouth, but no rebuttal came to mind. I hadn’t even thought of that. Neither had Arawn. Or had she merely chosen to keep it from me? “And that only considers the living. If Erebus took over, it would enslave the souls of anypony bound to The Tower. I cannot allow that. I cannot abandon these ponies to such a fate.” The finality in her voice chilled my bones. Still, she was awfully talkative today, in stark contrast with her show of power the previous time we’d spoken. She had not only listened to me, but she had given well-meaning suggestions. Now, she was actually answering my questions! Thus, I risked another one. “In that case, why do you think I made the wrong choice? Isn’t it good that I spared ponies from such a fate?” I met her blank stare, but immediately averted my eyes. I’d pushed it too far, hadn’t I? I’d lost an opportunity for some answers by asking the dumbest of questions. “I suppose…” she started in a tone far from anger. She looked away, running a hoof along her dark hair. The motion drove a pike through my heart, but the pain was nothing compared to when she met my gaze with her sombre smile. “I suppose I wish for it to end, yet cannot do so myself. It is my duty to protect The Tower, and I will fight for it with everything I have.” A silence stretched over us. Only the Stars knew how long I stared at her. She was beautiful, in every way Arawn had been. Only her eyes were colder, and so much sadder. Before the reasonable part of me could protest how terrible of an idea this was, I said, “I’ve changed my mind. I want to stay here and serve you, however I can.” Whatever wisdom had survived my short coma screamed, but I ignored it. “I’m aware you want to get rid of me, and I’m ready to accept your refusal, but know that this is my truest wish.” The Morrigan blinked. “Why…?” she whispered, slowly shaking her head. “You remind me of Arawn. I know you aren’t her, but I cannot willingly leave behind the sadness in your eyes.” I bowed my head, my neck nearly horizontal. “I owe it to Arawn, to her sacrifice, and to myself.” She stared at me, eyes wide. After a moment, she snapped out of it and shook her head with a lot more vigour. “No. Absolutely not.” “Why not?” I shouted, louder than intended. “You said anything was fine, as long as it was within your power!” Damn it, Silver, calm down. Hadn’t I said I’d be all right with her decision? “Anything away from The Tower.” She glared daggers at me, but there was something more in her eyes. “I thought that much was obvious.” “But why‽” Damn it, calm down before you blow this, you bloody idiot. “Because I do not want you to waste your life here. Leave,” she hissed. Despite the threatening edge to her voice, she sounded almost… sad? “But why‽” I stomped a hoof, and it echoed throughout the empty throne room. “If it’s my life, then why shouldn’t I be allowed to waste it?” “Because this has nothing to do with you, colt!” Magically amplified, her voice boomed throughout the throne room, loud enough to hurt my ears, but not enough to deter me. “It does!” My heart hammered in my chest as I took a step forward. “You're not Arawn, but that doesn't matter! I still promised her!” She backed away, but I followed. “Why won't you let me fulfil my vow‽” Her hind leg bumped into her throne, she glanced back at it in near panic. “You try to act like you are flawless, and have everything under control, but you don't! You don't have a grand plan, you don't have everything orchestrated!” What the fuck was I doing? She shrank further back, opened her mouth, but I cut her off, “And yet you won’t let me help. Why‽” “Because I love you!” she screamed. It echoed off the walls. Her eyes grew wide. Her open mouth quivered. What? What had she said that could possibly scare her this much? I’d heard her words, but they made no sense. Why would she say that of all things? Yet what else could she have said? “What?” I whispered. It didn’t make any sense. “Please,” she whimpered. “Please forget that.” I stared at her, unable to tear my eyes away or close my mouth. “I… I can’t.” Her heart broke. She fell to her haunches, staring at the ground, crying. I took another step towards her. How I wanted to sit down in front of her, lift her chin and promise everything would be alright. I would have done so with Arawn. But she wasn’t Arawn. Then who in Luna’s name was she? “Just who are you?” I finally managed to say. She gulped. “I… I am not Arawn.” “You’ve said that already…” “And it is true.” She looked up at me, and in those beautiful red eyes, I saw no lie. The moment broke when she slumped her head. “But it is not the whole truth.” I waited. Ten seconds, twenty, maybe a minute, maybe ten. When I opened my mouth to ask, she cut me off. “I am not Arawn, but I carry far too many of her memories, far too many of her feelings.” She slammed the ground, before resting her head on her forelegs. “She should have waited. Damn it all, she should have waited! She should have waited and learned…” When she started sobbing into her hooves, I finally dared to sit down next to her right, extending my wing over her back.