The first furtive rays of sunlight glinted off the dark grey iron of battle armor as more than a dozen elite members of the Royal Guard stood at rigid attention within their place of concealment. Discipline and training held their expressions and stances neutral but more than a few of them were dangerously near to showing signs of nervousness. Not that they were frightened, certainly not; these were veteran soldiers who had spent years training for situations precisely like this and who had faced danger and death countless times before. The Captain of the Guard was as outwardly stoic as any of the stallions he had selected, but the thoughts whirling in his mind were agitated:
Yes, we train all the time to mount a search-and-rescue operation for the near-as-makes-no-difference daughter of a living Goddess who just happens to be in direct command of the whole thing. And who will be the first to know if we succeeded. Or failed. Or messed up. Oh, Celestia preserve me. Wait; is it wrong to pray for her help when she’s standing right here? I don’t even know . . .
He had been surprised when the Princess had ordered him to handle this as a rescue operation but in retrospect he should have expected it. There was still no definitive answer as to the ultimate fate of Twilight Sparkle so it was wise to be prepared for the possibility she could yet be found alive. In case she was not, his orders were to apprehend as many of the criminal scum as was feasible and kill those who resisted too strongly.
He risked a glance sideways to the towering alicorn who stood motionless next to him. The rigid stance, the stonily impassive face, the stillness of her normally flowing ethereal mane conveyed volumes to one who had served her long enough to recognize her moods. She was undeniably immersed in her Royal persona, and what’s more, she was royally pissed for all that she gave no outward sign. The give away for her anger was the noticeable lack of the aura of warm caring that generally surrounded her, coupled with the tense muscles that held her enormous wings tightly against her side with no relaxation or looseness at all. As if sensing his scrutiny, Celestia turned to regard her Captain.
“Captain, if your forces are prepared you may engage the enemy,” she said in harshly clipped monotone. “Engage the enemy” is too mild a phrase. I want them crushed, destroyed and exterminated. I want them to feel, in the instant before an agonizing death, a small fraction of the nauseating fear that has hounded me since I received news of my student’s presumed death.
“You heard her Majesty; move out,” the Captain ordered the armored stallions. Saluting their commander smartly and executing a brief bow to their Monarch, they turned and made their way to the only entrance to the cave and tunnel complex, taking up positions for a forced entry under hostile conditions.
Celestia watched on without comment, her mind the only active aspect of her being. But most of all, I just want Twilight back. Vengeance will be a hollow prize if I’ve truly lost her this way.
* * *
The cacophony of battle echoed throughout the multitude of interconnected tunnels. Bolts of deadly unicorn magic provided fitful illumination while the striking sounds of metal indicated a physical blow rebuffed by an armored Royal Guard. Relentless and efficient, trained to advance and work in cohesion, the Equestrian soldiers made brief work of most of the defenders. Shortly more than a dozen resistors lay dead with five more captured and under guard, at the cost of only a few injuries on the part of the Royal Guards. The remaining few anti-monarchists had retreated deeper into the complex and sealed the passageway with a powerful magical barrier the unicorns amongst the Guards were struggling to nullify.
The sound of hoofsteps echoing down the tunnel they had just fought their way through arrested the attention of the Guards, who immediately relaxed when the forms of Celestia and the Captain became visible in the underground murkiness. Acknowledging their existence with a brief nod, Celestia turned her full attention to the prisoners, who stared back with equal measures loathing and fear. The Solar Princess narrowed her eyes, thinking, It is one thing to oppose a Goddess in theory. It is quite another to do so in person. Addressing them, her voice was a harsh growl, far removed from its normally lilting cadence. “I only want to know one thing from you. What have you done with Twilight Sparkle?” she demanded.
One of the prisoners had the audacity to spit in her general direction, contemptuously answering, “Why don’t you just buck yourself?” The others followed suit, emboldened by the courage of one of their own, and dismissively snorted in derision. Celestia’s eyes narrowed further, a noticeable glow enveloping her horn before expanding to fill the room with intolerable brightness. When the sudden display of light receded the insulting captives were nowhere to be seen, a set of faint outlines and piles of ash the only remnants of their existence.
“Very well. We do this the hard way,” she announced to no one in particular. Turning about sharply, she walked without hesitation further down the corridor to where several of her unicorn Guards were struggling to breach a brilliantly shimmering barrier that blocked off the passageway entirely. Sweeping imperiously past them she simply stepped through the magical field, an aura of sunlight surrounding her, causing the barrier to shatter with a discordant tinkle remnant of falling glass. Taken by surprise, her unicorn soldiers hastened to catch up with their monarch, the remaining earth pony Guards falling in behind. None dared look too closely at the chiseled expression of fury checked only by rigid self control that marred the normally jovial face of their monarch.
The sight of a beacon of light somewhere ahead hurried the steps of Celestia and Guards alike. Stepping through a narrow portal into a large circular cavern, Celestia came to a dead halt; her escort spilled out in a half circle around her. For several long heartbeats, all simply stared at a mind-defying sight in the central portion of the enormous room. Slowly, comprehension began to make sense of the barely recognizable scene. A mass of lavender, twisted in on itself in a most unnatural contortion. A crimson pool surrounding a ragged mass of flesh and blood, a deep purple mane with a single pink highlight obscuring the face.
With a burst of sudden speed, Celestia quickly crossed the intervening distance that separated her from her student and daughter-in-spirit, dropping to her knees beside a clearly broken young body. With utmost gentleness she nuzzled the obscuring mane away from Twilight’s face and lowered her head to listen for the slightest breath. She touched a single hoof gently to the purple unicorn’s side, trying desperately to feel a heartbeat other than her own, sharpened by desperation to a harsh staccato. The flood of relief she felt at the faint but noticeable indications of life brought tears of joy unbidden to her eyes.
However, before she could contemplate her gratitude at finding her protégé still alive a passing blast of magic flowed past her, causing Celestia to dodge aside in reflex, coming to her feet and facing the direction of this newest attack. The attack, though, was not meant for Celestia and found its mark in the Guards who had flanked Celestia previously. It spread out and enveloped her escort, flinging them one and all bodily against the unforgiving rock of the cavern walls. Stunned and mostly unconscious, they fell to the ground bonelessly.
Soundlessly a dozen invisibility spells were cast off, revealing the same number of unicorns now surrounding the lone Princess, horns alight with spells to rend and destroy. Regally Celestia regarded them all, attention fixated on one black and white colored unicorn who stepped forward.
“Well,” he began in a faux pleasant voice, “it seems we have you surrounded. I suggest you surrender yourself into our custody and begin discussions on your imminent abdication of power. In return we will allow you to live. Oh, and your little sycophant there, as well.”
Stepping sideways to protectively stand over her apprentice’s fallen form, she replied in an equally calm tone underlined with venom, “Oh? And I suppose a mere dozen of you is prepared to hold me captive? Against my sister, the entire Guard and my own power? You seem remarkably underprepared to be blackmailing a goddess.”
“Yes, well, I must admit your presence here is something of a surprise. We rather expected to deal with your minions, not yourself in the person,” the leader of the rebels replied with just a hint of unease. “Still, we aren’t the type to look a gift pony in the mouth. Since you so foolishly chose to come waltzing down here in pursuit of one of your pathetic lapdogs we decided to improvise. Really, if we’d known this was all it took to get you to show yourself away from the safety of the Palace we would have pulled this stunt long ago. We didn’t even intend for the little filly to be useful as bait! We wanted you to think she was dead; hurting her was just a way to pass the time, you see. But, since you’re such a bleeding heart I’m sure you’ll hand yourself over rather than fight back and have your precious little filly be evaporated in the process.”
Standing over the damaged body of her most faithful student, surrounded by those who mocked not only her but her love for the lavender pony she had unknowingly thought of as a daughter, Celestia’s millennia of patience and benevolence was finally outweighed by blind rage. Reaching deep inside herself for the endless ocean that was her power, she found it turbulent and awash with the storm of her emotions. Without hesitation she seized the solar essence at the very core of her being; tapping into unfathomable reserves of magical power she spun her rage into a very tangible magical construct, manifesting a writhing orb to float directly in front of her, its molten surface a perfect reflection of the greater Sun she controlled. The heat and magical power contained within the miniature sun caused the nearest of her enemies to step back several paces.
Pointing a trembling hoof, the belligerent ringleader of the attempted coup called out, “Stop! I told you what would happen if you didn’t surrender!”
Celestia voice answered him, amplified greatly in volume and seemingly coming from nowhere; her sibilant voice crackled with disgust as it echoed ominously, “I have heard enough empty threats from your vile mouth. You will regret trying to strike at me through one I love; I will scour your very memories from Equestria.”
Having cast her death sentence Celestia, Twilight and the Guards all vanished in a sudden flare of light that paled in comparison to the radiant glory of a miniature sun, leaving Twilight’s remaining captors to gaze fearfully at the rapidly growing solar orb and longingly at the only tunnel out, now blocked by a magical field of Celestia’s own creation.
Reappearing in the shadow of the mountain that had harbored such evil, Celestia took to the air with a single fluid flap of powerful wings. Hovering in place, her eyes began to glow with an incandescent light that matched the noonday sun, which even now seemed to grow brighter in response. One final exertion of power completed her warrant as an enormous shaft of blinding light, akin to a solar flare one might glimpse through a telescope, pierced the mountain at several angles, heating everything inside past the point where mere stone would be unmade by temperatures that rivaled the heart of any star.
Sagging with sudden exhaustion, Celestia was free to turn her entire attention to her beloved student. Softly nuzzling her face, the Princess smiled radiantly to see awareness return to Twilight’s eyes. Opening her eyes for the first time in days, the sheer happiness that suffused her lavender body at seeing the loving face of her mentor and adoptive parent impelled her to fling dirt-matted, bloody forelegs around Celestia’s neck and weep with the combined amalgam of pain, fear and stress. She cried herself out on a willing and comforting shoulder, and she drank up the unbridled affection and compassion Celestia so freely gave to her. They sat thus for a time, until a sudden memory presented itself to the forefront of Twilight’s mind.
Oh, Celestia, no, please let it have been a nightmare, she prayed desperately. Surreptitiously lifting a hoof to brush aside her mane, she should have felt the familiar presence of her horn. Instead, she felt nothing. Just the bloody remnants of a scar. Leaden disbelief settled into her heart and she began weeping, this time far more bitterly than before. Shocked by the sudden, wracking sobs, Celestia held on to her student and surrogate daughter tighter than ever and practically whispered to her, “Twilight? Please tell me, what’s wrong?”
Heartbroken and shattered, the purple maned pony answered, “M-my horn . . . they took my horn . . .”