//------------------------------// // Rapture // Story: Hyperion // by Meridian Prime //------------------------------// I open my eyes at exactly 6:23 AM, as I have for over a thousand years. Some ponies believe that it is because of some cosmic balance to which I am mysteriously attuned. It's nothing quite so complicated - it is simply a thousand years of habit. I doubt at this point I could sleep in even if that luxury were afforded to me. I roll over, and rise out of my bed. My reflection in the ornate mirror on the opposite wall regards me with dishevelment and disdain. The spell that sets my mane and tail flowing in a non-existent breeze takes but a moment, and I instantly feel more alert. I wash the debris of sleep out of my face and freshen myself before turning to my regalia. I wrap them in the golden glow of my magic, and exhale before the familiar weight of my crown and peytral settle on me. The weight is both a comfort and a burden - a reminder of who I am and all that I represent. Sometimes the burden outweighs the comfort, but not today. I slip on my shoes, and leave my room. It is a short walk to my destination. I trot along the arcade, the gentle glow of the moon illuminating the marble beneath my hooves. The gardens below me are quiet and still. Luna is waiting for me. Even now, months after her return, it is a pleasant jolt to see her. The knowledge that she is here, that my sister is no longer imprisoned, that I am no longer alone - I doubt I will get used to that happiness for a very long time. I hope I never do. She turns to me and smiles in greeting, tilting her head questioningly towards the balcony. "Shall we, sister?" I smile back. "After you, Luna." We make our way out to the balcony. Below us, Canterlot is slowly waking. Merchants are setting up their stalls, business ponies are trotting briskly to work, and the night life of the city is slinking back home to rest until the night comes again. Beyond the city, the rest of Equestria stretches out to the horizon. It is beautiful, but nothing I have not seen before. I shift my gaze over to my sister. She raises her head, and her horn is wreathed in an unearthly light. Slowly, carefully, the moon begins its slow descent to towards the horizon. It leaves me, as it always does, in awe. Luna has always been stronger than me. Even when we were young, I could never best her in a fight. She was the bold one, the brave one, the warrior and the leader. She never backed down from anything or anyone, and although her hot-headedness often got her into trouble, it gained her the respect of many. Why she thought she would need the power of the Nightmare to defeat me... After I lost her, it was weeks before I lowered the moon. Some ponies thought that I left it in the sky as a symbol of my grief, of the pain I felt at banishing my own sister. Others believed it to be a warning, a threat of retribution against her remaining supporters, or any others who dared to challenge my sovereignty. In truth, I simply could not move it - I did not have the strength. I still marvel at how she can so effortlessly command it, bend it to her will. Even with a thousand years of practice, I could never move it as she did. I was the quieter sister, the reserved one, the weaker one. Whereas my sister was always an active pony, I found solace in the more scholarly pursuits. I was quite similar to my beloved student in that sense - I craved knowledge, and nothing brought me greater joy than to curl up with an ancient tome or treatise. We complemented each other. Luna was a leader, tackling problems head on, and I was a mediator, the diplomat and the thinker, the pragmatism to her idealism. Some ponies have called me a chessmaster, and it is not without merit. I have never been able to lead from the front - I play the long game because it is the only one I can win. I have never had her strength. The first time I tried to raise the Sun, I nearly died. It was almost predictable, in hindsight. My younger, stronger sister could barely raise the moon, and the Sun was so much larger - I was never going to be able to move it. Of course, I had no idea quite how large the Sun was - no one did, save possibly Discord - and even if I had, it would have been difficult to grasp that something could ever be so massive. I remember reaching out with my magic for the horizon, and yet finding nothing. Frustrated, I stretched further and further, desperately trying to grasp something. And then I did. It dwarfed my consciousness, crushing me with Its sheer presence. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't speak - I could only feel the overwhelming sensation of the Sun, surrounding me and suffocating me, an unfathomably massive body of light and heat and power and fire. And It was alive. There was no malice in It - It was just so much bigger than me that I couldn't even be near It without being crushed. Had it not been for my sister's quick thinking as I lay screaming and writhing in agony on the ground, I doubt I would have survived the encounter. Hitting the horn of a spellcasting unicorn, or alicorn, is usually crippling, but in this case it saved my life. The moon has almost set now. It is nearly time. It took me weeks to recover. It was nearly four days before I could walk again, and even then I could not do it without support. So naturally, when I announced that I would try it again, my sister was adamantly against it. We argued for three days - she said it was too dangerous. I said that we didn't have a choice. Eventually, time chose for us. The crops had started to wilt despite the best efforts of the farmers, the constant tending of the weather pegasi, and the magical assistance provided by the nation's most prominent unicorns. I was terrified. My legs shook and I felt like I would throw up at any second. But I didn't have a choice. I reached out, and I touched It. The presence was just as unbearable as it had been the first time. It engulfed me, threatening to swallow me whole, pressing down at my very soul. I struggled with all my might, tried to summon the tiniest trickle of magic, to push It off, to fight It, to survive, but it was in vain. I could not best It. And then I realised I didn't have to. I let It in. Luna tells me that a blinding light burst from my form, that everyone averted their eyes because looking at me was like looking at the Sun itself. That she has never seen anything to match the power that rolled off me in waves as the Sun finally rose. I remember none of it. All I remember is being a part of It - of becoming one with a cosmic presence, a being that I could never hope to understand or control. Of fire burning, flowing through my body, my heart, of ancient energies in my veins, of my mind filled with nothing but light and heat and sound. I was a conduit, a channel for the sheer raw power of the Sun. It was the most glorious experience of my life. Luna is looking over at me - the moon has set. It is time. I raise my eyes to the horizon and reach out as I have done for countless years for the presence that I know lingers just beyond it. I connect, and am instantly lost. I am the Avatar of the Sun, filled with its burning, rapturous fire, a joy unlike any other. The Sun rises, and I am made new.