//------------------------------// // Corona // Story: The First Light of Dawn // by Cold in Gardez //------------------------------// Trixie fled through the shadows of the station as though her life depended on it. It may have, for all she knew. Luna looked ready to kill her at their last meeting, and that was before Trixie blew up the room and shoved her off a second story balcony. There was only one way Trixie's next meeting with her would end. So, that meeting had to be avoided, or at least postponed as long as possible. Indefinitely, even. She was panting when she finally reached the far end of the station and emerged into the light of the diminishing moon. Behind her, she could hear angry shouting, and the end of what sounded like a vicious beating. The idea of hurting another pony, even one as hated as Twilight Sparkle, made her cringe, but she shoved that thought out of her mind. Sparkle was going to turn her over to Luna; she deserved whatever was happening back there. The moon was just a few hoofspans above the mountainous horizon. Less than two hours remained in the night, she judged. Two more hours for Luna to find her. Two hours until Celestia woke and hunted her down. For a brief moment, a crushing hopelessness descended upon her. She was hungry, hurt and exhausted, with a pair of gods tag-teaming each other in pursuit. If she stopped moving, they would find her. If she slept, they would find her. Even if she ran as fast as her legs would carry her, they would eventually find her. This city would be her grave. She stumbled at the realization, then swore and picked herself back up. The world had always tried to beat her. Every dream, the world had tried to smother. Every hope, it had tried to snuff out. But always it had failed – for every setback she had suffered, there was a comeback. For ever defeat, a rally. In every hopeless situation, rescue. She came to a stop before a lone passenger car, detached from the rest of its train. Her breath came in ragged heaves, and she could taste something hot and metallic in her lungs with each gasp. But there was no time to rest. Ignoring the web of pains stitched across her body, she climbed into the car. It was time to see how much her magic had improved. *** When Twilight Sparkle woke up, the world was shaking. That was unusual, to say the least. Earthquakes? She rejected the idea – most of Equestria was tectonically stable. The shaking continued. She ran down the list of other possible causes and came up empty. Not enough data to formulate a hypothesis. She opened her eyes, to see if there were any visual clues. Applejack's blurry form was just a few inches away. Maybe she knew why it was shaking? Twilight opened her mouth to ask, then promptly retched. A headache that had been hovering at the edges of her consciousness dove in with a vengeance, wrapping its claws around her brain. The sudden assault left her mewling. At the same time, the analytic part of her brain continued its work. An imaginary sheet of paper appeared before her (much easier to see, now that her eyes were scrunched closed again). 'Headache' appeared at the top, with a tiny check mark next to it. Ditto for 'blurred vision'. Disoriented? Definitely got a check mark. She tried to remember how she had ended up on the floor. Nothing. 'Faulty memory' appeared on the paper. Twilight examined the evidence, and quickly reached a conclusion: she was suffering from a severe concussion. A brief flash of joy momentarily chased away the headache. Huzzah for empirical reasoning! How do you treat concussion, again? She tried to order her scrambled thoughts. The shaking was back, which wasn't helping things. Why hadn't she paid more attention during those first aid classes? What was the mnemonic, again? Rest, ice, compression, and elevation. What? No, that's for sprains, not concussions. Well fine, you come up with a treatment, then! Don't take that tone of voice with-- “Twilight!” Applejack's shouting finally broke through the fog. “Come on, sug, wake up!” “Buh... wha?” she said. “Twilight! Oh thank goodness.” The relief in Applejack's voice was palpable. Just hearing it made Twilight feel better. After all, anything good for Applejack was good for Twilight, she reasoned. “C'mon Twi, open your eyes.” She cracked her eyes open, then blinked. Applejack's face was just inches away. Her breath, hot and apple-scented (of course), washed over Twilight's snout. They stared at each other for a moment. Finally, Twilight broke the silence. “You can put me down, now,” she said. Applejack's legs were still wrapped around her neck and head, cradling her off the floor. “Oh, right. Sorry.” Applejack carefully set her down. “Are you alright? How do you feel?” Terrible. “Fine,” she said. “Just a bit dizzy... what happened back there?” She slowly rolled onto her side, then every so carefully pushed herself into a seated position. A wave of dizziness briefly swept over her, but she caught her balance before she fell back to the floor. The nausea she had felt slowly receded, like the outgoing tide drawing away from a beach. For some reason, she thought about seaweed. “Well, uh.” Applejack reached up with one hoof to scratch the back of her neck. “Right as I was about to tackle her, Trixie vanished in a flash. When I got up she was standing here, and you were running away.” Twilight remembered the touch of Trixie's horn, and the spark of magic that had jumped between them. An illusion spell, apparently. Trixie was a better magician than Twilight had given her credit for. She mused over the thought in silence. “And then what?” she finally asked. “Well, I tackled her,” Applejack said. Her head fell, and her ears wilted, drooping limply against her mane. “But it wasn't her, was it? It was you. I was hurtin' you.” “Don't fret over it. It wasn't your fault.” She carefully lifted a hoof off the ground and set it on Applejack's shoulder. “It was Trixie's fault, and we still need to stop her. Did you see which way she ran?” Applejack nuzzled the offered hoof, then nodded and rose to her feet. “Sure did. She took off for the trainyard, outside that far door. Do you... do you think you can move?” Twilight shoved herself onto her hooves. The world swam for a moment, but settled after a few deep breaths. “No choice. We need to stop her. Lead the way.” Applejack gave her friend a worried look, but nevertheless turned toward the station's far entrance, and the moonlit night beyond. Together, they moved in pursuit. *** Thousands of feet below, the black of night was beginning to fade away, revealing the soft beige sands of the desert landscape. The countless points of light that were Las Pegasus slowly vanished as dawn began to tint the sky. To Luna's eyes, the encroaching light made little difference. She could see in absolute darkness. She could see better in absolute darkness. The nascent dawn, with its fingers of pale pink and purple rising up from the horizon, was only a reminder of how little time she had remaining. Above her, the stars began their daily retreat from the sky. From east to west they slowly faded, just as the lights beneath her vanished. She could hear them; the billion tiny gems sparkled and laughed and danced and sang as their princess gyred in circles above ten thousand sleeping souls. She cried out to the stars for aid, but no response came. Wrong place, wrong time. But then, even if they had heard, they wouldn't have helped. She owed them too much already. She could no longer sense even the dim presence that was Trixie. Whatever magic had been hiding her before was back, and vastly more effective. She had as much chance of finding the unicorn thief now as she would picking out an individual grain of sand on the beach. She keened quietly, her frustration overwhelming her already frayed self control. Even at the best of times, Luna was a temperamental princess, not accustomed to keeping her emotions in check. It was the nature of the night to unleash the hidden, the primal, the sensual and the suppressed, and she was nothing if not the embodiment of the night. And now the night was fleeing, chased away by the inexorable dawn. She felt herself flagging, her wingbeats growing sluggish and tired. The air felt thicker, almost like syrup, and she began to descend. Her moon, full and fat, touched the mountains to the west. She could barely hear its song above the cruel hail of sunlight. She managed to slow her fall somewhat. Her outspread wings caught the air, and she hit the ground with far less force than Celestia had in the desert. Nevertheless, she punched a wide crater in the dirt of an empty lot on the outskirts of the town, and woke sleeping ponies for blocks around with her crash. Unable to fly, she walked. Eventually, unable to walk, she crawled. The sky brightened in the east. The dawn was like a hammer against her mind. With her sister by her side, she could have stayed up all day, drawing on Celestia's power and using it to sustain herself. Now, alone, she had nothing. Without her sister, she was nothing. Unable to crawl, she dragged herself forward with her front legs. The side of her face scraped against the ground. Her wounded leg, noticeably shorter than the other beneath its bandage, ached abominably. It was the only sensation left. Ponies were crowding around, babbling, shouting. Urging her to stop. Of course, they didn't know what was coming. They didn't know why she had to find Trixie. The edge of the sun peaked above the mountains to the east. Its light washed away the rest of her strength, and left only an empty husk, a god weaker than the frailest of ponies. Unable to drag herself, she wept, until the all-consuming light banished her conscience for the day. *** Trixie found the wheel brake with only a bit of trial-and-error. Really, it should have been obvious. A giant lever next to the front set of wheels – it even had a small label reading “Push Forward To Release Brake.” She decided to use test her magic on the brake, rather than using her mouth. It was time to find out how much her magic had recovered... and besides, earth ponies used that thing. With their mouths. She could see the tiny tooth-marks on the handle. Simultaneously suppressing a shudder and thanking the stars for restoring her magic, she closed her eyes and concentrated, attempting to marshal her power. Back in the alley she had barely been able to lift a pebble, but that was hours ago. Her magic had come easily during the short duel with Twilight, and with any luck it was back to full strength. Her horn was glowing a beautiful, brilliant silver when she opened her eyes. Delighted, she reached out with the power, grabbed the brake handle, and pushed it forward. It swung easily into position, and she could hear the clanking metal mechanism beneath the train as the system disengaged from the wheels. And then the handle snapped off with a loud squeal of metal. The shaft, an inch-thick steel rod, broke like a dry branch. The jagged end glowed faintly red before quickly cooling back to a dull silver, lost beneath the glow of her magic. Trixie stared, wide-eyed, at the handle. She hadn't meant to break it – even on the best of days, she couldn't have broken it, or at least not so easily and quickly. As she realized what she had done, her magic faltered, and the handle dropped to the floor of the car with a loud clatter. Beneath her hooves, the entire car swayed slightly in the breeze, no longer moored by the brakes. Time was short, but this demanded investigation. She closed her eyes again and took several deep, calming breaths, willing her excited heart to calm its pace. When she felt centered and grounded again, she opened her eyes to the silver world of Sirensight. The well was just a few inches away. Turbulent water bubbled out of it, flowing down its rough stone sides and onto the floor. Her hooves were submerged nearly to her fetlocks. She could feel the cool, calming water beneath her hooves. The image – and its implications – sent a shock through her, knocking her out of the dream vision with a flinch. The dark of night that replaced it left her blind and blinking furiously. The torc itself was the first thing she saw, as her eyes slowly adapted. The amethyst crystal within glowed as bright as the moon, casting pale dim shadows on the floor. In the silence that followed she could barely hear a quiet ringing sound. She tried to grasp the torc with her magic. Nothing. It was like the massive metal necklace wasn't even there; her magic passed through it like air. She could feel the power brushing against her bare chest. She couldn't remove it. Luna couldn't remove it. There was only one pony who might be able to take it away without killing her. Trixie closed her eyes and focused. There was a flash of light that filled the car and the trainyard beyond, and when it cleared she stood atop the trolley, her silver mane – what remained of it, anyway – flowing in the gentle pre-dawn breeze. To the west the moon was nearing the horizon. To the east the dawn was only hours away from its daily birth into the sky. Already the world around her seemed to glow with the faint light of early morning, as each rock and building took on form and detail that had been lost to the darkness. Only the sky, still dark and filled with countless stars, still clung to the night. Trixie looked up at them, for perhaps the last time in her life. She looked away. The moon and stars were too full of memories, too full of regrets. She blinked at the sudden wetness in her eyes. Her horn glowed again, echoed by a larger glow around the entire car, and slowly it began to coast along the rails toward the far end of the trainyard. There was no way to change the car's route. She had already chosen her destination. Slowly at first, then with greater speed, Trixie rode her stolen train car south. Behind her, the lights of Las Pegasus began to fade with the dawn. *** The trainyard was empty by the time Applejack and a limping Twilight Sparkle emerged from the cavernous station. The sky above them was no longer black, but rather a deep indigo that would have matched Luna's coat beautifully. Twilight frowned at the comparison and shoved it out of her mind. There were more important things to worry about than the color of the night. “See anything?” she asked Applejack. Her vision was still blurred from the concussion. The stars were dim smudges, and the horizon was no longer a solid line of mountains but rather a vague blur that bled earth and sky together into a single dark, infinite mass. She blinked her eyes rapidly, to no avail. “Uh, you're not gonna believe this,” Applejack said, “but I think she's stealing a train.” Twilight did believe it. It was, in fact, one of the possibilities she had expected from Trixie (the other, more mundane possibility being to stow away on a train). Still, it was one thing to expect such a grand and blatant theft, and quite another to be standing in an empty trainyard, wondering how to catch a runaway train. She could see the train now, a silver glow outside the south gate slowly receding into the distance. Trixie was already a mile away. There was no way they could catch her on hoof. South, south. Why would Trixie want to head south? There was, literally, nothing to the south of them, now that Appleloosa had been obliterated. Even the rail line Trixie was using ended in Appleloosa's ruins. The only thing of any interest in the desert south of Las Pegasus was Celestia herself, and she would be awake soon. The thought brought her up short. “Applejack, how far away would you say Celestia is?” “Ah, I'd say about 20 miles. We made it to Las Pegasus not long after she went down.” Twilight glanced to the east. Dawn was still over an hour away. Trixie could easily reach Celestia before the sun rose. But why? She sat down, her head aching as she tried to concentrate. What felt like a huge knot was beginning to grow on the back of her skull. Stupid, dense concrete. “Sug? Whatcha thinking?” Applejack gave her a quick look-over from horn to hooves, the skin around her eyes tight with worry. “Trixie, I think she's heading to Celestia. She's going to get herself killed.” Applejack flinched. “That don't seem like something she'd do, Twilight. She must have something up her sleeve.” Twilight thought back to Luna. The sight of the alicorn's hoof, bloody and seared, stuck in her mind. She shuddered and tried to think of anything else to get the image away. It remained, stubborn, taunting her with its implications. Slowly, reluctantly, she gave voice to them. “She was able to hurt Luna, somehow,” she said. A cold feeling crept up her limbs. “That should have been impossible. We saw Luna walk through lava like it was water. That torc... necklace... whatever it is, it's somehow giving her incredible strength.” “So? What's that got to do with Celestia?” Twilight's mouth went dry. “So, if she can hurt one princess, maybe she can hurt the other? Especially if she's still asleep?” Applejack frowned, her ears turning to lie flat against her mane. “No, Trixie wouldn't do that. Nopony would do that... It's Celestia, for pete's sake!” “She stole the torc, Applejack. She let Canterlot and Appleloosa burn. Hurt Luna. She could've ended all this at any time, just by turning herself in. We would have gotten the torc off somehow.” “And if we hadn't? What if there's now way to remove it besides killing her?” Twilight was silent for a while. She didn't want to put her next thought into words, but it had to be said. “Then eventually Celestia would catch her, and she would die anyway. Better... better just her than the whole world.” It was the cruelest sentence she had ever spoken. Her breath shook in her chest as the gall, the utter hubris of her words struck home. Who was she, little Twilight Sparkle, to condemn another pony to death? To render such a terrible and final verdict? Was she now a god? “You... you don't mean that,” Applejack said. She edged away from Twilight, her eyes wide. But she did. Her vision was clear now, as clear as the thoughts in her mind. Terrible and cruel her decision may have been, it was still correct. Luna was right. Trixie had to be stopped, by any means necessary. Even death was an acceptable tool. Twilight stood. She gave Applejack a long, silent stare, and noticed for the first time in days just how tired the other mare appeared. She wasn't invincible after all: her coat was just as scuffed and dirty as Twilight's, her eyes just as bagged and bloodshot, her face just as haggard. The old Stetson hat upon her mane was battered and worn, and the expression on her face was confused and shocked by Twilight's easy condemnation. “We can't let her reach Celestia,” Twilight said. It was easy to say, now that her choice was made. The path lay before her – difficult, yes, but no longer strewn with doubt and ambiguity. They had to stop Trixie by whatever means were necessary. “Are you going to help me or not?” Applejack looked stricken. She stared at Twilight like she was a stranger, one who had walked up out of the blue and demanded something horrible, something incomprehensible. Slowly she shook her head. Anger flared in Twilight, but just as quickly it burnt out. Had she not refused Luna's demand, so similar, just hours before? The thought of the wounded alicorn was a weight on her shoulders. I should have helped her. “Twi, you can't do this.” Applejack licked her lips, glancing around the empty trainyard as though hoping for a rescue. Only the empty moonlit night was there to help her. Twilight sighed quietly. “I can. I have to.” She stood and walked over to the rail lines Trixie had left upon. Her steps were sure and even, as though her concussion were a distant memory. Every detail – the grain of the rail ties, the glint of moonlight on the polished metal rails, the sharp scent of dust and warm iron – stood out with unnatural clarity. She had never felt more alive than this moment. She couldn't catch Trixie on her hooves alone. A quick glance around the trainyard found a suitable chariot for her, a lone passenger car detached from its train. She closed her eyes and concentrated. The glare from her horn outshone Trixie's by an order of magnitude as the car slowly lifted from its tracks and floated across the yard before her. Pausing a moment to orient the car with the tracks, she slowly let it down onto the rails. The ground beneath her groaned at the sudden weight. It was no strain at all. She didn't even break a sweat. Without looking back, she hopped into the car and trotted to the front. The empty doorway looked out onto the empty desert to their south. Far away, barely visible, she could see the faint silver glow from Trixie's car. There was a grunt and clap of hooves behind her. She didn't have to look back to see who they belonged to. “Thank you,” she said. Applejack mumbled something unintelligible, then spoke louder. “I can't let you do this alone. If there's a way to stop her without hurtin' her, we're doing it.” “Of course,” Twilight said. It was a lie; she had already decided what to do. If Applejack, the Element of Honesty, could sense her deception, she kept it to herself. A brilliant purple glow consumed the car. Within moments it was rolling along the tracks, propelled by Twilight's magic. The wind whistled through the open door and set their manes whipping like flags. Ahead of them, Trixie's car slowly grew larger. To the west, the moon touched the western ridge of mountains. In the east, the glow of the incipient dawn began to light the world. *** Trixie's target was clear. A trickle of smoke, thin as a rope but stretching miles into the air, marked Celestia's most recent resting place. The upper reaches of the smoke glowed a light pink, as the rays of the rising sun painted it and the sparse clouds alike. Time was short. A half hour, maybe? Perhaps less. It all depended on how quickly Celestia woke, and whether any sentience remained within her before she turned into a star. Trixie could only hope the princess would be capable of helping her. Capable and willing, she amended. She was strangely calm. Nothing like the frantic nervousness of Appleloosa bothered her now. The confrontation with Luna had wrung out all the terror of her flight from justice. Whatever happened with Celestia, she would accept it. There was nothing to do but hope. A slight smile touched her face at that thought. Her, Trixie, so calmly accepting the possibility of death. She doubted her old self, from just days ago, would have recognized this new pony. Her reverie was broken by a sudden slight tug on the train, as though it had somehow struck a patch of mud on the rails. She frowned and looked down at the car and tracks. Nothing. Just her imagination. She let out a quiet breath and turned back to the scenery before her. The ground was slowly beginning to brighten. It seemed to glow with its own light, somehow managing to appear brighter than the sky above. Faint colors began to emerge from the uniform gray of the pre-dawn. Rose and beige, lavender and peach. The Pastel Desert reclaimed its namesake as the sun approached the horizon. There was another tug, stronger than the first. She turned in a slow circle atop the train car, her eyes searching. There was still nothing, just the faint silver glow of her horn's magic, tinged ever so slightly purple in the faint light. Tinged, or... She looked up sharply. Behind her, perhaps a mile back on the tracks, was another car. Barely through the distance she could make out a pair of ponies standing inside the carriage. A bright purple spark shone at her like a headlight. So, they hadn't given up after all. For some insane reason they were chasing her, perhaps to their deaths. “Idiots,” she said under her breath. The whipping winds stole her words away. Idiots, maybe, but powerful idiots. For Twilight to be able to reach Trixie's car from such a distance with her magic was impressive. Memories of an Ursa Minor, floating through the air into a distance forest, flashed in her mind. Twilight was not a normal unicorn. But now, neither was Trixie. She glanced down at the torc around her neck, then back at Twilight's car. Her eyes closed, and she reached out with her magic to grip the iron rails behind her car. They felt soft in her grip, like clay. She gave them a mental wrench, and they tore as easily as paper. Her momentum pulled them out of the ground and spilled them across the desert like a pair of twisted metal strings. It occurred to her, moments later, that Twilight might not have any way to stop her car before hitting the mangled tracks. She hadn't wanted to hurt the unicorn and her friend. Too late. She leaned forward as Twilight's car neared the break. At the last possible second there was a bright flash from the cab. An instant later the car hit the broken line. For a moment it kept coming. A huge cloud of dust erupted from beneath its wheels, and slowly the entire carriage began to spin sideways. The wheels caught on the wooden ties, and the car tipped over, still moving forward faster than any normal train. Rolling now, it rapidly disintegrated, sending shards of wood and metal flying high into the air. Eventually, only the metal frame remained, tumbling slowly down the tracks until it too was concealed in a massive cloud of dust. She must have teleported. She had to! Trixie spun again, searching the surrounding desert for the mirroring flash that would signal that Twilight had escaped the car. Nothing could have survived inside it. There was nothing as far as she could see. She turned back to the ruined carriage, already receding in the distance, when she heard an unexpected sound in the car beneath her. A muffled thump, followed by the hiss of a hushed conversation, barely intelligible over the rushing winds and roar of the train over the tracks. For a moment she was stunned. Part of her marveled at the feat of magic Twilight had just pulled off – teleporting not just herself but another pony more than a thousand feet, onto a moving target, with only seconds to prepare. Trixie couldn't imagine the amount of sheer magical power such a jump would take. She didn't have long to ponder it. There was another flash, and a pair of ponies appeared atop the car with her. They both stumbled from the unexpected blast of wind; the smaller one, Twilight, fell to her knees and didn't rise. Apparently all the teleporting wasn't so easy for her after all. Applejack, unfortunately, had no such issues. She immediately righted herself and stared dead at Trixie. Her hat, absurdly, somehow still perched atop her mane, adding several hooves to her height and making her appear all the more intimidating in the early morning glow. Trixie unconsciously took a step back from the mare and the angry glare on her face. “Give it up, Trixie,” Twilight said as she slowly came to her hooves. She looked terrible, Trixie thought. Battered and beaten, with one hoof wrapped in a thick bandage. Her eyes, however, were wide and alert. “I told you, I can't!” Trixie shouted. “What would you have me do, you fool? The sun is almost up!” Twilight glanced involuntarily to the east. The horizon was a bright red shading to pink in the vault of the sky. If it weren't for the high mountains, the light of dawn would already be upon them. “We... we can still try something...” she said, weakly. Trixie barely heard her over the rattle of the car. “Try? Try?!” Trixie spat the words at them. “There's nothing left to try! I have to get to her!” The smoke column of Celestia's fall was close, no more than a mile away. Soon she would have to leave the tracks to reach her. “I'm sorry, Trixie.” She really did look sorry. Trixie had never seen such an anguished look on anypony's face, outside of a mirror. “But,” she continued, “we can't let you do this. It's too late.” Twilight's horn sparked with a brilliant purple light, and a sudden brisk wind tugged at Trixie's form. The wind died almost instantly, though. A quiet ring emerged from the torc, and the amethyst stone pulsed with its own light. An unpleasant sensation, like insects crawling across her skin, suddenly invaded Trixie's mind. Twilight frowned as the glow around her horn faded. “Fine, no magic, then.” She turned to Applejack. “Can you grab her?” “My pleasure.” The earth pony snorted and lowered her head. She pawed once at the metal roof, then dashed across the train car toward Trixie. In less than an instant she crossed the dozen feet separating them. Too fast.Trixie barely had time to think. She certainly didn't have time for magic; instead she tossed herself to the side, barely avoiding Applejack's grasping hooves. She landed on her side and rolled nearly to the edge of the car before sliding to a stop. The empty space past the edge of the roof was just inches away as she scrambled back up. Applejack was already moving again. She spun on one hoof with a grace that Trixie would have found admirable under other circumstances, and dashed toward her again. She feinted with her legs, then suddenly darted forward with her mouth, grasping a hold of Trixie's silver mane. It hurt! Trixie held back a howl as she was tugged violently back to the center of the roof. She batted at Applejack's head with her hooves, but she might as well have been swatting at stone. The earth pony was unshakable. Trixie was not a fighter. She had learned long ago that it was better to avoid fights, or to flee from them, than to try and stick up for herself. Trying to fight back just meant getting hurt. But now she was getting hurt, and there was no running away. It was time to fight back. First, she had to get loose. She dropped her hooves back to the metal roof and concentrated, imagining a razor-sharp filament of magical force. A faint silver thread, barely visible in the dawning light, appeared before her eyes, undulating gently in an unfelt breeze. She concentrated again, and the filament moved, sliding along the back of her head. There was the gentlest of tugs, and she fell away from Applejack, suddenly free. Applejack stumbled backward, the remains of Trixie's mane in her mouth. She spat out the silver strands, then stared at the unicorn, an astonished look on her face. Trixie didn't give her time to recover. She focused again, this time on the corrugated metal slats beneath Applejack's feet. They trembled, and with a loud squealing sound broke away from the rest of the train and wrapped around Applejack's legs. The thin metal sheets bit cruelly into her skin and locked her in place. One down. Trixie turned back to Twilight, who was staring at her from the far side of the car. She didn't seem any, or shocked, or otherwise affected by the fight. If anything, Trixie thought, she looked sad. Trixie took a deep breath, willing herself to calm. When her heartbeat no longer raced in her ears, she shouted at her foe. “You can't stop me, Twilight. Your magic can't touch me!” Twilight stared at her for a long moment. Beneath them, the train bounced erratically as it raced over the tracks. The wind felt odd against Trixie's buzzed mane, as though it were clawing directly at her skull. She shook her head in annoyance. “Maybe not,” Twilight finally said. “But I can stop this train.” She closed her eyes, and a blinding glow spilled out of her horn. Oh nononono. Ahead of them, in the middle of the tracks, the earth suddenly erupted, sending wooden ties and iron spikes fountaining into the air. The metal rails buckled and leapt from their moorings, spilling across the desert like snakes escaping from their burrow. As the dust cleared, a huge crater emerged, large enough to swallow the car whole. It was just seconds away. There was another flash, and suddenly Twilight was gone. Trixie was alone on the car as it raced toward destruction. Her heart jumped into her throat, and in a moment of panic she did one of the worst things a unicorn can do. Her eyes closed, and she teleported in the blind. Not to any particular spot, just anywhere but there. There was a silver flash atop the car. A moment later it sped off the broken rails into the newborn crater, still surrounded by a cloud of settling dust. A tremendous crash filled the still desert for the second time that morning, and Trixie's ride came to an end. *** Twilight and Applejack landed a half a mile away from the tracks. Seconds later the muffled crack of the train slamming into the crater reached them. Echoes rolled across the desert for minutes afterward, bouncing off the distant mountains. Twilight glanced around. No sign of Trixie. Unsure if that was a good or a bad sign, she turned to Applejack. “Are you okay?” she asked. Applejack was sitting on her haunches, looking more confused than hurt. Angry red lines wrapped around her legs where Trixie had bound her with the metal sheets, but otherwise she seemed fine. “Er... I think so. Did... did you do that?” A long silence was her only answer. Twilight looked away, eventually setting her gaze on the faintly visible trail of smoke rising from Celestia's resting spot. It was less than a mile away, and at its base they could faintly see a white shape, slowly growing lighter as the sun rose. Applejack tried again. “Twilight?” “We did it,” Twilight responded softly. “The sun will rise in a few minutes. Even if she survived that, there's no way Trixie can reach Celestia before she wakes. Celestia will catch her, and it will all be over.” It was over, and they had done it. Success. Trixie was going to die. The thought took a moment too sink in. Twilight began to tremble, and her head lowered nearly to the desert floor. The cracked earth blurred as her eyes watered, and the first of many sobs wracked her tiny frame. Applejack was silent for a while. Eventually Twilight heard a sigh, and the muffled thud of hooves on the desert floor. “C'mon Twi. What's done is done. We need to get somewhere safe.” Right, safe. Twilight sniffed loudly and looked up. Celestia was shining now, brighter than the dawn behind them. If they didn't move, she would burn them up. There were some large rock outcroppings less than a mile away. Applejack was already trotting toward them, pausing ever few seconds to stop and look back at Twilight. With a final, silent sigh, Twilight stood and followed. *** Trixie was, for the first time in days, incredibly lucky. Her blind teleport did not put her inside of a mountain, or a thousand feet in the air, or halfway inside of a tree. She did not appear in multiple places in multiple pieces. She did not, like some poor unicorns, simply disappear from the face of the world, never to be seen again. Despite her panic and mere moment to prepare, she managed what could have been called a safe teleport, appearing just a few feet above the desert floor, hundreds of yards from the crashing train. What she did not do, unfortunately, was compensate for her momentum. Trixie fell the few feet to the desert still traveling as fast as the speeding train. She barely had time to register the oddly-blurred ground beneath her and the whipping winds before she slammed into the earth and tumbled like a rag doll for dozens of feet. A trail of dust rose from the furrow she carved in the earth, and began drifting away with the wind as she came to a stop. When the dust cleared, she was still alive and conscious. Again, fortunately, no boulders or cacti had been in her path. Even the earth was relatively soft, a mixture of sand and soil that broke her fall and gently slowed her to a stop. All that said, Trixie did not feel like a lucky pony. She felt terrible. At least one leg was broken above the ankle, half her hide felt like it was missing, and her breath wheezed in her lungs. She coughed weakly and spat out an ugly mixture of phlegm and dirt. The torc, she noticed, was still as bright and clean as the moment she had found it, sitting upon Celestia's stand. Not a scratch marred its flawless surface. Even the dust seemed to slide away from it, as though it could find no purchase upon the perfect gold. She had never hated it more than that one moment. The urge to hook her hoof under the gold rim and pull until it tore away was nearly irresistible. Only the memory of terrible pain and blood running down her blue coat forestalled such an attempt. Instead she levered herself to her hooves. Her broken foreleg wouldn't support her weight, and she cradled it awkwardly against her chest. It hurt, but only distantly, as though her body realized she had more important things to worry about than a mere broken bone. Important things like Celestia. She hobbled in a clumsy circle, her eyes scanning the horizon for the thin trail of smoke that marked the goddess's slumber. The sky was alarmingly bright, well beyond the pink of early dawn, already shading into the soft blue of morning. Far to the east, behind the high line of mountains, the sun was already lighting the world. She never saw the smoke. What she did see was a bright glow surrounding a shining white kernel, barely two hundred yards away. The light spilling off of Celestia's coat was already casting long shadows across the desert floor. The princess was lying prone, her wings stretched wide on either side, partially concealed by a layer of smokey, cracked glass that looked almost like tar. As Trixie watched, one of the huge white wings began to rise. Time was up. Trixie broke into a run, her three good legs pounding at the sand in a desperate, off-tempo gait. She could feel the sun on her face. *** Celestia woke slowly. For the second time in two days she regained conscience far from home, in an alien setting, with no idea how she had come there. “There,” in this case, was a shallow crater partially filled with melted sand, in the middle of a relatively flat portion of the Pastel desert. The gentle hues of the sands were gone from around her – the heat of her crash had fused the grains together and colored them a uniform, ugly gray. Streaks of soot marred her wings and coat, blemishing them with a mottle of grays and blacks. She looked, her muddled mind imagined, something like a zebra. She could hear the sun calling to her. Its song reached easily through the thin scab of mountains blocking its light, though enough of its rays were refracted by the atmosphere to revitalize her. Even as the heavy cloak of sleep fell from her mind, the power of the sun began to crowd away her thoughts. It was a contest, one she was bound to lose. In a few minutes the sun would breach the horizon, and the thinking being known as Celestia would be gone again. Only a god, terrible and powerful and single-minded, would remain. She wanted to weep, but already that emotion was beyond her. She had hoped to see Luna and Twilight again, but instead she woke alone. Alone, perhaps forever, for who would ever chance standing so close to a star? All she could ever offer was a few minutes of disjointed conversation, before incinerating her companions. The melted glass covering her wings cracked, and she flexed them without thinking. Her legs were still stuck in the solid earth, but she could feel the stone beginning to weaken as the sun rose. Solid matter would soon have no lease on her. She was about to break free and launch into the air when something unusual happened. Out of the empty desert a battered, wounded pony appeared, running toward her. Upon the pony's chest was the last thing she ever expected to see. *** “We're out of time!” Twilight's warning was unnecessary. The light behind them was blinding, even facing away from it. The scattered reflections off the sand and rocks around them dug into their eyes like daggers. She and Applejack ran faster, whipped on by the building heat behind them. The nearest cover, a row of rocky outcroppings, was still thousands of feet ahead. There was no way they would reach it in time. “There!” Applejack shouted. She veered off course, heading toward a lonely boulder sitting on the flat sands just a hundred feet away. It was barely larger than a pony. Not the best shield against what Twilight knew was coming. Still, it was better than nothing. Twilight limped after Applejack as fast as she could, and pressed against her friend in the small shadow the boulder provided. It was cramped, and they huddled in each others' arms, their breath and pounding hearts the only sound in the desert. Just inches away the light from Celestia's awakening turning the desert sand an impossible, blinding white. A hot wind began to blow away from Celestia's resting place. The air kicked up sand and dust, blocking out some of the light. For a few moments it was merely as bright as noon behind their rock, until the hot air became too thin to lift even dust into the air. Together, breathing the burning air, they began to suffocate. There was no spell to help in this circumstance, for no magician had ever considered it. Twilight improvised, creating a shield around them that did nothing to block the light, but managed to trap and cool enough air for them to breathe. Enough to live another minute or so, Twilight realized calmly. She tried to say something reassuring to Applejack, but the scalding air burned her throat. The shadow cast by the boulder was brighter than the brightest summer day, but the sand beyond it was like the sun itself. Through her clenched eyes, Twilight saw a sage bush a few feet away turn to ash and drift away. The tip of Applejack's hat, peeking above the boulder, blackened and caught fire. Applejack knocked it away with a hoof; it floated for a moment, then burst into flame and vanished as well. Their boulder began to pop. Chips of stone, smoking hot, cracked and leapt into the air as its surface heated and expanded. A few fragments of stone landed beside them in the shadow. They glowed. To the east, the sun broke fully over the mountains, bringing the light of morning to the desert. Neither Twilight nor Applejack noticed. It was not bright enough to see. *** Trixie reached the crater just as Celestia stood. She stumbled to an awkward halt, nearly tumbling into the glassy bowl, as the full power and majesty of the god struck her. Celestia had always been a beautiful pony. Now she was sublime, in every sense of the term. Her mane was a lucent cloud that floated around her like a corona, every color and yet none. The energy pouring from Celestia's body turned everything white. There was only light and shadow, and as the sun rose further the shadows retreated, growing smaller and smaller until the power of the goddess banished them for the day. Trixie should have been blinded, she realized. Staring at Celestia was like staring at a thousand suns. The thick, smokey glass beneath her hooves began to crack from the heat. Still, Trixie's hooves were unburned, and her eyes traced the outline of Celestia's mane and wings against the black sky behind her. The torc was humming, loud enough to vibrate the air in her lungs. She could barely hear it above the sound of the shattering glass. Aside from Celestia, the torc was the only object still visible. It looked no different than the first time she had seen it, perched upon Celestia's breast, just over a month ago. She took a step forward. Her hooves almost skidded on the melting glass. Her coat, which should have burst into flames long ago, barely felt warm. The glass stretched like taffy beneath her, and she slowly slid down the crater toward Celestia. As she drew nearer the torc grew louder, until it nearly screamed in the thin, vanishing air between them. The sound peaked. For a moment it held, a loud ringing note that drowned out all thoughts, and then it began to die away. The light dug at Trixie's eyes, and the sweat on her coat began to sizzle. Tendrils of smoke rose from the rim of her hooves. Time was up. The torc, it seemed, had a limit after all. As her coat began to ignite, Trixie stretched out her wounded hoof to touch the goddess, now just feet away. Her hoof felt something solid and warm, and the pain ceased. *** The being that was once called Celestia looked down in confusion. She could have sworn another life form had just stood before her. Now there was nothing, nothing except the clarion call of her torc. It had found her at last. Her horn glowed as she reached out to it. Had any pony been able to survive standing next to her, they would have actually seen the glow – it was the only visible light left. The rest of her radiance had long since risen beyond the pitifully weak energies that mortal eyes could see. What Twilight Sparkle would have called soft x-rays turned the desert around her into an opaque fireball. The torc had sunk several feet into the molten earth. Her magic grasped it and pulled it out of the liquid rock to hover before her. It was untouched by the heat – its short bath in the lava had done nothing more that clean it for her. She lowered her horn and touched it against the amethyst crystal. There was a flash, and the torc reappeared around her chest. The star burning in her heart pulsed for another moment, then snuffed out like a candle. The being, now Celestia again, fell into the pool of lava and sank nearly to her chest. The fireball around her, no longer fed by her furnace, vanished in an instant. For a mile around her, a huge dome of superheated air warred briefly with the colder, denser air of the desert and high atmosphere. The stasis lasted for only a moment before the heat radiated into space. In equilibrium no longer, the air shock-compressed into a tiny space barely larger than a wagon, centered around Celestia's struggling form. The collapsing front struck her with the force of a bomb, and a minute later the loudest clap of thunder ever heard on Equestria shattered windows in Las Pegasus, twenty miles away. *** Some months later... Celestia lowered herself to the floor as the last of the petitioners left her throne room. Much of her former strength had returned, but a long day of listening to complaints still sapped the energy from her. She felt a yawn coming on and managed to suppress it. It wasn't good form to show such weakness in front of her court. Canterlot was recovering nicely. Outside the large windows of the city hall she could see wood scaffolds in the distance toward the mountain. If she looked hard enough she could see tiny, colorful dots moving across the beams, slowly chipping away at the avalanche of stone and lava that had buried half the city. Her palace would never be rebuilt, at least not as it had been. A huge portion of the mountain where it once perched was simply gone. There was talk of building a new keep at ground level, more accessible to the common ponies. Others whispered of the ancient Palace of the Sisters in the Everfree Forest, suggesting that it be dismantled stone by stone and carted to Canterlot. Celestia quietly squashed such notions whenever they surfaced – she preferred that palace where it was. The city hall was not up to the standards of her former grandeur, but to tell the truth she didn't mind. The age of castles was rapidly drawing into the past, as her ponies took more and more of the burdens of rule upon themselves. Someday soon the city hall would be the only government they would need. She looked forward to that day. But that day was not yet come. Equestria still needed its princess. Princesses, she corrected herself. Plural. The distinctive clop-clop-clop-ting! of her sister's gait sounded on the polished marble stones. Celestia sighed quietly and turned her head to the throne that had been hastily set up beside hers. Luna had grown over the summer. She was nearly as tall as Celestia now, and her mane flowed with the same ethereal waves that seemed to defy wind and gravity. Her coat was several shades darker, and in the golden evening light appeared nearly black. She was a far different pony than the bookish filly Celestia remembered. Not all her changes were for the better: her left foreleg ended just below the ankle. The indigo fur of her coat blended smoothly with a metal foot, painstakingly crafted by the greatest silversmith in Equestria. Clever articulated joints bent the false hoof with each of her steps, and she now walked as naturally as ever. If one didn't look closely, only the metallic ting as it landed gave her false hoof away. “Good evening, sister.” Celestia leaned over to nuzzle Luna's cheek. Luna wasn't having it. She shied away gracefully, disdaining her sister's affections. A quiet mutter sprung up among the remaining courtiers. Rumors of tension between the princesses had been rampant since they returned, wounded and defeated, three months ago. Celestia bit back the rebuke on her tongue. It would do nothing for Luna's mood to be chastised in front of the court, and it would certainly do nothing to dispel the rumors. Instead she put on her usual gentle smile, and acted as though the snub had not occurred. Where physical affections had failed, perhaps conversation could win the field. “The equinox is in a few days,” she said, turning to look out the west windows at the setting sun. A thin layer of clouds hung just above the burning orb, tinted a brilliant red by its fading light. “I thought we might visit an earth pony town for the Running of the Leaves. Ponyville, perhaps.” Luna took a seat on cushion set before her throne. She tossed her head absently, as though shaking out her mane, then stared straight ahead. Statues held more emotion in their faces than she. Celestia waited to see if she would respond. Minutes passed in silence. “Twilight wrote me a nice letter the other day,” Celestia continued, as though she were engaged in an actual conversation. Normally she would never discuss the contents of Twilight's correspondence so openly, but she didn't think Twilight would mind in this case. “She said her hoof has nearly healed, and she hopes to be able to run in the race.” If Luna heard her, she gave no sign. “She asked about you.” That got a response. Luna's eyes and right ear flicked over to face Celestia. Now it was Celestia's turn. She waited silently for Luna's curiosity to overcome her ill mood. It wasn't a long wait. “And? What did you tell her?” Luna asked. “I haven't answered yet,” Celestia said. She kept her voice low, just for her sister. “But I want to tell her I'm worried about you. Worried that you're slipping away again.” Luna snorted. “Courteous of you, assuming she cares about my health. She is simply being polite.” “That's not true. You don't give her enough credit.” There was another pause. Luna's eyes turned forward again, scanning the idling court with feigned interest. “I gave her a chance,” she finally said. “When I needed her, she forsook me. When I trusted her, she betrayed me. Whatever friendship she claimed to hold in her heart for me was a weak and insignificant maggot, stepped upon as soon as its purpose was served. You say I don't give her credit? That is not true, sister. No, I don't trouble myself with thinking of her at all.” And there it was. After three months, it was finally out in the open. Celestia gave her sister a moment to settle before speaking. “Which unicorn are you speaking of, again?” Luna spun toward her, all pretense of indifference gone. Her eyes widened, then narrowed dangerously. “How... how dare you!?” Luna's wings mantled, blocking out the light streaming in from the western wall. “I told you to never speak of her!” Her shrill voice reached a peak, and a dark flash filled the room, robbing every pony's sight. When the light returned an instant later, Luna was gone. *** It was another week before Luna returned to Canterlot. Celestia was atop one of the few remaining towers in the city. Originally a guard post, it had lost its purpose as the city slowly grew, leaving it an isolated spire in the center of the wealthy merchant district. Eventually, as the centuries passed, there were no longer any walls for it to guard. Over the years it had been used for storage, as a small prison, a library, an eccentric mage's house, and finally an observatory to view the stars. Now it was the tallest structure left standing in Canterlot, and Celestia often came to it with the dawn, to view the rising sun. She sat on the circular balcony surrounding the central spire, waiting for the pink sky to lighten into the powder blue of day. Beside her, a shadow moved the wrong way. She gave it a moment, and sure enough the stark, sable form of her sister resolved beside her. “Sister,” she said with a tiny nod. Luna settled onto the balcony. This early in the day, there were no other ponies around. The few merchants wandering the streets far below them never thought to look up. “Sister,” Luna said. “I'm sorry.” “You don't need to be. You know that.” Luna snorted. By the way her ears flicked, however, Celestia knew she was amused rather than offended. “You forgive too easily.” “It is possible,” Celestia said. She turned back to the rising sun. “But it is a wonderful thing to forgive. It improves us. It makes us better.” “Hmph. Have you no pride? To forgive so easily means to suffer offense after offense.” Luna cast a glance at the torc around Celestia's neck. Its polished gold was brilliant in the light of the dawn. “You make yourself vulnerable to ponies who lack your sense of moral clarity.” Celestia looked down at the torc. A shadow briefly touched her calm expression, like a cloud passing across the sun. But just as quickly it was gone, and the serene radiance that was her hallmark returned. “A point,” she said. “But what is the value of pride, sister? Did pride win you the love and adoration you thought you deserved?” Luna was silent for a while. Around them the city grew louder as more ponies woke and went about their days. The empty white streets slowly filled with a trickle of pastels. “No,” she said. “Pride lost me everything. It was love that won me love.” “Hm,” Celestia replied. They were quiet again as the sun rose. As the day wore on, a few ponies joined them on the balcony. Sensing, perhaps, that the sisters were sharing a special moment, they kept their distance. The sight of their rulers sitting peacefully together was welcome, and soon enough a small crowd had gathered around the edges of the balcony and in the street below. A few pegasi perched upon the sloped roof above them. “I regret what I didn't tell her,” Luna said. It was the first sentence either had spoken in several hours. “Twilight? You can always visit her.” “Not her,” Luna said. She squinted up at the sun. It had been a long time since she had seen the full light of noon. “Trixie. The last time we saw each other was filled with anger and violence. And now I will never be able to tell her how much she mattered to me. How much I valued her friendship.” Celestia said nothing. Luna waited for a response. The silence between them drew out uncomfortably. “Well? Don't you have some ancient wisdom or soothing proverb to answer that?” she asked. Celestia shifted her weight. The crowd around them, sensing the tension between them, began to back away. Luna turned toward her sister. “What? What are you hiding?” “It's complicated.” “Complicated?” Luna stomped her silver hoof, rattling the wooden balcony, which abruptly became much less crowded. The pegasi above them took to the air. “What are you keeping from me?” Celestia sighed. “It was for your own good, Luna. You were too hurt. Unstable. You might have done something unwise.” Luna opened her mouth, baring her teeth. Then, to Celestia's immense surprise, she sighed as well and sank back to the floor. “You are right that I was hurt,” she said. “I was, perhaps, not thinking clearly. But if you have some secret hiding in there,” she reached out and poked Celestia's chest with her hoof, “you should tell me.” Celestia rubbed the spot with her hoof. It didn't hurt, of course, but she was very rarely rebuked in such an effective fashion by her sister. That fact hurt more than anything else. “Let me answer you with a question,” she said, looking up to meet Luna's gaze. “What would you have done if I had told you, back when we first returned to Canterlot, that Trixie was still alive and in hiding.” Luna started to speak immediately. Celestia cut her off before she could start. “Answer me honestly.” Luna scowled, but closed her mouth. She sat in thought, her eyes narrowed and glancing rapidly around the town below them. “You want to know what I would have done? I would have hunted her down and killed her. It was the least she deserved for all the pain and suffering she caused. It would have been justice.” Celestia didn't seem upset by the answer. She simply nodded. “Most ponies would have agreed. What if I had told you the same thing, one month ago?” Luna shrugged and flicked one of her wingtips absently, as though brushing away a fly. “I would not have cared. I would have put her out of my mind.” “I see. And if I told you, right now, that she was alive, what would you do?” Luna sucked in a quick breath of air. “What are you saying, sister? Is she alive?” “Answer the question. What would you do?” “No!” Luna shouted and stood. “That's not fair! You can't ask a question like that and call it rhetorical. You can't dangle something like that in front of a pony. It's not fair!” “You're right. It's not fair. But answer me anyway.” “Fine!” Luna huffed, her wings spread in agitation. “I would find her and... I don't know. Apologize? Ask her forgiveness? Maybe just thank her for being a friend, before...” she trailed off and sighed. “Before.” Silence returned as Celestia gave her sister a measuring look. Her smile was gone, replaced by a tiny frown and a crease between her eyes. Eventually, Luna's patience wore out. “Well? Is she alive, then, or was this just a cruel philosophical exercise?” “I would never intentionally be cruel to you, Luna. If ever I have hurt you, it was out of love.” “And Trixie?” Luna shot back. Her words dripped with acid. “When you killed her, was it out of love?” “I did not kill Trixie,” Celestia said. “You ask if my questions are rhetorical? No, they are not. Trixie was alive when last I saw her.” That brought Luna up short. A wary look crossed her face. “Explain yourself, sister.” Now it was Celestia's turn to shrug. “You know how Trixie found me. The torc was protecting her with its last iota of power, but it was about to fail. If I hadn't acted, she would have died.” “Acted? What is that supposed to mean?” “Well, I'm a little hazy on the details... I wasn't quite myself, as you know, but I knew she was in danger. So I did to her what I did to you, back in the Solarium.” She glanced over the balcony toward the center of town. Much of the Solarium had already been rebuilt, and new scaffolds stretched into the sky where more buildings were under construction. “You... you teleported her? Where?!” Luna stood. Her wings fanned out, ready to lift her into the air. Now Celestia seemed pained. “No, not teleported, not quite. That would have required focus, which I lacked at the time. Instead I sent her away.” “Away?” “Yes, away.” “'Away' is not a place,” Luna said. She seemed to be having trouble keeping her voice under control. “Where is she?” “She is not in a place. She is between places, if that makes any sense. Banished, much like you were, though not to the moon. Not anywhere. Nowhere.” “Banished.” Luna stared at her. “You banished her.” “It was that or incinerate her,” Celestia said. The first hint of anger entered her voice. “I think I made the right choice, considering the circumstances. You are, of course, free to disagree.” “So, you just... you...” Luna tumbled to a stop, quivering. With a great display of effort she forced her wings back to her side, and when she spoke it was even, flat and dangerous. “Very well, you banished her. If we assume, for the moment, that you did the right thing, how would we get her back?” “Someone would have to go fetch her.” “And what would that entail?” “Quite a bit of danger,” Celestia said. She looked Luna up and down, from mane to false hoof. “Where she is, there is nothing else. It is empty, and she fills it with her own fears and desires. It is her emotions that trap her, and anyone else who enters would find themselves warring against their own fallibility as well. The rescuer might find themselves trapped.” Luna sat in silence. Hours passed, the sun stretched across the sky, and the world around them went about its business. The crowds in the tower swelled and retreated as the day moved on, and it wasn't until the golden glow of evening began to fill the town that Luna looked back to her sister. “And how would one go to this place? How would one start this rescue?” Celestia smiled, but it was a sad thing, touching her mouth but not her eyes. Seeing it, Luna began to understand why she had kept this secret for so long. “One would simply ask.”