//------------------------------// // Century By Century // Story: The Long Wait // by 6-D Pegasus //------------------------------// A thousand years.  Tick. The elements locked you away, but they won’t hold you forever. I need to be ready for your return. I need the world to be ready for your return.  I need you to be ready for your return. A disguise, a whisper here and there, a hoof gesture. Just enough to pull a few scholars’ interest away from the earth and sea, and towards the sky. Towards the stars. Towards your beautiful moon, where ponies should have looked up to more.  Where I should have looked up to more. A celebration has already arisen, one commemorating my banishment of the wicked Mare of the Moon.  For one hour, on that day, every year in the summer, I talk to my ponies, letting them know I am one they should not be afraid of, that they can approach me without apprehension. For one hour, on that day, every year in the summer, I host a grand party where everypony can attend, so no one feels left out and so everypony feels they belong. For one hour, on that one day, every year in the summer, I smile at my ponies as I raise the sun, promising to protect them always. For twenty three hours, on that day, I hide away from my ponies as I cry for the one I could not protect. I originally wanted to restore our castle, but the nightmarish energy from our fight had corrupted the surrounding forest to the point where even I struggled to keep it under control. Soon, it began overtaking the village around the castle, throwing the townsponies into a life of constant worry and fear. I didn't want to hurt more ponies with my negligence, so I had a new castle built atop a nearby mountain and evacuated the populace around it. From here, I can still see the ruins of our old home where we grew up. Without ponies to maintain it, nature has rushed in the reclaim its land. With the dangers of the forest lurking around it, I've decided to hide the Elements there for now. I can't bear to even look at them knowing what I had used them for. Tick. A century has passed.  Your brief period of darkness has already begun to fade into myth and legend.  Almost all the ponies who were around to witness your quiet rule beside me have dispersed into the aether like dust in the wind. Their children would pass what was known about you and your fall to darkness to their children, who would pass it onto their children, each time getting more and more distorted. I could have done something to make sure everypony knew you were more than just some terrifying and wicked force. I could have made amendments to history books, nudge them towards the truth each time the story strayed. But as time passed, the legend shifted. No more was Nightmare Moon the corrupted soul of my sister, but an evil entity that manifested from dark magic and wanted nothing but destruction. Maybe it was selfish of me to also want to hide from the truth and the consequences of my actions, but it gave me a slight... reprieve... that your memory would not be tainted by the monster that took you over. Another celebration has manifested, a mockery of the true danger your evil counterpart posed. I wanted to stamp it out as soon as I learned of it. But… As a result, on that one day, I see so many ponies out and about during the night that had been shunned by all for so long. The nature of the celebration is one that relies on the darkness offered by the night. They look to the stars and the moon, tell stories and explore mysterious places and laugh together as they collect their precious sweets, all under the glow of your protective light. You would have really loved the sight. Tick. Two centuries down. Eight more to go. The seed of interest in the night sky I planted so long ago has blossomed into a full study, and for the first time, is taught at the university I helped found here in Canterlot.   They are finding patterns, Luna. Patterns among your stars, and they are naming them. Scorpions, scales, bears, even rivers. The sky has become a canvas to many ponies, and they are beginning to write and paint. Chart after chart, book after book, fills our once small library in Canterlot.  Your night is loved, Luna. You are loved.  I only wish you knew this sooner. Tick. Seven centuries until your return.  The pattern of the stars and the study of space, “astronomy” as they call it now, has spread to almost all of the growing universities throughout Equestria. Ponies are growing more and more interested in the night.  I am faced with a dilemma now. I want you to return. I want you back. I want to hug you close and squeeze you and assure you that you’re never alone and you never will be ever again. But I know that all the bitterness and rage in your heart would not have subsided.  I don’t know if I can survive your return. I don't know if Equestria can survive your return. I don’t know what to do. You used to give such great advice, sister. I could really use your help right now... Tick. Six centuries remaining. Nothing. I have found nothing. I have scoured the libraries of the world, dug through Starswirl's ancient archive of spells and knowledge, explored faraway lands and met so many wonderful creatures, all with their own ways of understanding the world and its magics. Not a single book, not a single mind, holds a possible means by which I can safely contain your anger and bitterness. The Elements don't speak to me anymore. In my desperation, I finally turned my eyes back to the same damned artifacts that both saved my life and ripped away so much of what gave it meaning. I believe when I used them on you, my connection to them was shattered by the sole act of banishing you, my own sister and the only other bearer of the Elements. Maybe I do deserve it. But the rest of Equestria, the rest of the world, does not. And I’ll fight for them as I should have fought for you. Tick. Five centuries left… How can it feel so far and yet so close? You’re almost back in my hooves and I’m not ready. I'm not ready to see you again, the one who I should have held closest to me, and yet turned a blind eye to when it mattered most. I'm not ready to face you again, the one who I love more than anything in the world, and yet was hurt the most because of my own stupid arrogance. But I'm not ready to give up just yet. Tick. Four centuries remaining. Nothing still. For the last two hundred years, I desperately sought out ponies worthy of wielding the Elements after us, ponies with enough magical potential to channel their energies once again. Two hundred years of nothing but dead ends and wild goose chases. Of nothing but restless nights and waking up in cold sweat. It’s all nothing. It's all so stupid. Did you know some ponies have begun to pray to me and worship me? You used to joke about that when you first took the throne beside me. That if we ruled long enough, the many ponies who knew us personally before our ascensions would fade away, and in time, their accounts of who we used to be as well, leaving nothing but two constants in an ever-changing world. No different than the sun and moon themselves, keeping watch over all of ponykind like two divine beings. At that time, I found the idea a bit too pompous. Now? I almost laugh at the irony. For over half a millennia, I have ruled over our ponies, each passing year being seen more and more as some immortal idol who always knows the wisest path to steer our nation towards prosperity and harmony. If I were in their shoes, I wouldn't see myself as any different either. But you always knew better, you knew me like nopony else could. You knew deep down, underneath my gentle smiles and waves in public, remained much of that young mare who loved to prance and play in the snow, who would stand on a rock with a stick in her hoof pretending to chase away the wendigoes. The same young mare who, with no idea what she was doing other than that it was right, stepped in to stabilize the sun and the new nation under her light, where she continues to do so to this day. Maybe someday, we can bask in it together and laugh like we always did as fillies. Tick. Three centuries left. Part of me has accepted that perhaps I’ll never find anyone. Tick. Two centuries left. Tick. One century. Ti—. A blast of magic nearby. A dragon bursts from the nearby university building. I feel it. I feel you. Everything will be alright now. I know what I need to do. Celestia gazed out towards the night sky from the castle balcony, bathing in the gentle light of the moon. The silhouette of her sister stared coldly back, but for the first time in a millennia, she smiled at the sight. Four stars slowly closed in on the moon, and she knew in her heart the time was short. Trotting back inside her chambers, she turned to face the moon-shaped clock her sister made for her shortly after she took the throne. She brushed a hoof against it and closed her eyes, feeling the familiar aura of her sister's magic as its enchantment continued to preserve and maintain its function even after a thousand years. Tick. "See you soon, sister."