//------------------------------// // Chapter 20 Here's Horse Hatred // Story: Equinophobia // by eLLen //------------------------------// Ryan fell under the weight that had been growing heavier upon her shoulders. From day one, the weight’s burden had begun to fester, starting as an unnoticeable, unremarkable mass. Then it had grown slowly as she saw the wonder of the world she had been brought to, occasionally having a growth spurt as the woman marveled at revelations about the earth below her feet—or rather—the lack of Earth below her feet. Finding herself on a seemingly new tract of planet only provided the energy to continue, however, as the real fuel had been the residents. The weight bearing down on her continued its unabated rise, only hesitating as the out-of-place person found solace on the briefest of moments of emotional relief, one time being encountering a fellow human. That is, until she found out who the human was. The weight had actually reversed course, going backwards, for a time as the woman not only made up with the faux humans, but even became friends with them. For a full week, it had lain in dormant sleep, but as the rule goes, “what goes up must come down.” The visit with the sun goddess had sent the weight an exponential skyward spiral, but she resisted, just barely. Her rage became her motivation, and thus, she had embarked on a vain quest with the help of a devious spirit who had promised to take her back to where she once belonged. It failed, along with her unwavering determination. The weight of her world had finally grown too great, and Ryan had been crushed under it. Now she lay sprawled across the floor of a confinement cell, doing nothing but aging and having only the wallowing in her own self-pity. Her mind was emptied of activity, only being able to recount and lament on what should’ve been. She didn’t know how it went so wrong, but she didn’t care; it did go wrong, and that’s all that matters. All her fears had become permanently revitalized with the failure—she was stuck, at the mercy of a goddess, stranded from her family. There was no getting around it, much less a bright side. Simply, she had lost her game. “Ryan?” The captive woman was in no mood to speak or have any sort of interaction, a fact she’d made sure Shining knew. The only reason she’d said anything was to get him to go away, realizing what his true purpose in talking to her was. Now, however, the scant awareness left in her was caught off guard at the voice that had spoken out. She’d faintly heard the footsteps approaching and, assuming it to be Shining or some other needless guard, had prepared to tune him and his interrogation out. By luck, she hadn’t completely ignored the words and actually did find it in her to respond to the familiar, welcome voice. “Twilight?” her voice rasped, hoarse from her teary crying from earlier. She let her head fall sideways, the lavender form appearing in her vision confirming the identity of the voice’s owner. “What…?” Twilight stared back silently for a moment, peering through the cell bars with a visibly dismal demeanor. Her mouth hung agape blankly for a moment before she started, “Hey… How are you holding up?” “I’m not,” she replied simply, making no further movement. The alicorn winced as the two words bit into her. Ryan just kept her saddened, neutral expression. “No,” Twilight said, “This isn’t right.” Before Ryan could decipher whatever she meant, a meager glow accented the dimly lit cell, emanating from the horn atop Twilight’s head. In a matter of moments, the cell door swung open with a creak. “I picked the lock,” she explained, “…Don’t tell Shining I know how to do that.” After a pregnant pause, she cleared her throat, continuing again, “Come on. You don’t belong in there.” Ryan placed her hand behind her, pushing herself up into a sitting positon with a grunt, back against the wall. Turning back to her friend, she asked, “Where would I go?” “Anywhere but here in a cell,” Twilight tried, her brow furrowing. “It’s spacious,” Ryan replied then shrugged. “I… guess,” Twilight admitted. Her hoof anxiously tapped the floor a few times before Ryan spoke up again. “What are you doing here?” she asked, “How did you even know I was here?” “The earthquake lead us here.” “Earthquake? There was an earthquake?” At Twilight’s nod, she remarked, “Didn’t notice.” A brief silence followed until Twilight asked, “Ryan? The reason I came here is because I want to help you. We’ve already got a good idea of what happened, but could you tell me your side of the story? I want to help you, but I need to know everything.” “Help me?” she repeated, “How could you help?” “I… In any way I can,” she said with a firm nod. Ryan sighed. “Twilight, I told myself before I went on this little adventure that I don’t care if I’m following false hope. Any hope is better than none. Well, I was wrong. Realizing everything you did was doomed from the start is so horrible. So understand when I don’t want to get my hopes up again.” Her head slumped onto her shoulder, giving her a clear view of the struck look upon Twilight’s face. Addressing the original question, she stated, “What happened was that I wanted to go home, and Celestia disagreed. So I asked Discord for help, but that failed.” “Yeah… I figured as much…” Twilight muttered, making a note to confront the draconequus later. Figuring Ryan wouldn’t say anymore, she continued, “I… did end up talking to Celestia.” “…” “She gave me her reasoning again for the gate staying open, but she’s also letting me research the gate. See if we can open and close it easily.” “…okay.” Twilight put her hoof to her forehead as she thought of how to continue talking through the delicate matter, deciding her words carefully. “After that, I actually talked with her sister, Luna, who had also talked to Celestia. I wasn’t there when that happened, but from I heard, Luna was trying to talk sense into her. Though, she told me something else that may… shed light on the situation for you.” “Mm?” Ryan responded, raising an eyebrow at her. At the very least, she had her attention. “Something happened to Celestia around the time of the noble you heard about. She had a personal student, but, as Luna told me, she has a tendency to let herself grow attached to her students…” Celestia’s eyes snapped open, instantly darting to her sister as the suppressed glow of her horn briefly appeared before truly fading away. “You told her?!” she shrieked, startling the three ponies around her. “Huh? What?” Luna could only replied, still recovering from the shock of the sudden outburst. “You told Twilight,” she repeated in a flurry, “What happened to…” “What? How did you…?” Her eyes widened as realization came to her. “You were eavesdropping on them?! Are you so distrusting of the human that you can’t even give her a moment of solitude?” “Firstly, that is not true. Secondly, that is not the point. How could you tell Twilight the story?” Her shock began morphing into surprise as she took a few menacing steps towards her sister, using her taller stature to look down upon her. Luna held her ground, staring back up defiantly. “Yes, I did,” she ceded, “But only because I felt it was necessary. She would never fully understand what was happening between you and Ryan without the knowledge, and you did not seem inclined to tell her, to say the least.” “I would’ve—” She paused suddenly, sensing the wide-eyed stares upon her. Twisting her neck around to meet Cadence and Shining, she flatly stated, “You two may leave us. We need a moment, if you would.” Quickly reacting, Luna retorted, “No, you two may stay. I believe there is nothing Celestia has to hide, yes?” She earned herself a nasty glare at the words. “We’re… just going to go back in the office. Right, Shining?” Cadence hinted, none-too-subtly giving his shoulder a bump. “Right,” he agreed, backing away, “Probably paperwork to do...” Within moments, the two sisters were left to each other. Focusing on her younger sister once again, Celestia started, “As I was saying, I would’ve told Twilight.” “When?” Luna shot back, “In months? Years? Anytime other than now would’ve been more time Ryan has to suffer. Twilight is the best pony suited to helping her, and she needed to hear everything.” “Even so, that does not give you the right to tell her.” Scowling, Luna said, “So you would let Ryan suffer if I didn’t tell her? What happened to the benevolent, omnipotent Celestia our subjects have always loved?” The sun goddess’s brow furrowed as she heard the remark, but not due to the growing frustration it aided. “Always loved…” she muttered. Her eyed widened as a thought occurred to her. “You still feel that way, don’t you?” she spoke, “You still feel jealous over who is the more popular between us.” Luna gasped, her mouth floundering for a moment too long. Finally, she managed, “Oh, no! Don’t make this about me. Even if that was true, there are bigger matters to worry about.” “But it is true, isn’t it?” she tried, “You are only—” “There are bigger matters to worry about,” the lunar alicorn stated, calmly and strongly staring her sister in the eye, “And we will focus on those until they are properly and completely resolved.” “…Fine,” Celestia relented, the strength in her voice quieted, “But we aren’t done talking about this.” A moment of silence passed as they regarded each other. Breaking the pause, Luna said, “Mm… As I was saying… I felt telling Twilight was necessary in order for her to properly help her friend. Now, not in years, months, weeks or days. Say what you will, but I believe it was the right decision, and nothing will change that.” Celestia kept her narrowed gaze, and her eyes glaring daggers. However, her defiance was doomed to fall as she suddenly faltered, sighing it away. “If you truly feel that way, then so be it. I admit you may be right. Just, that is such a personal event and I would much rather have told her myself.” She shook her head. “You’ll get no sympathy from me, sister. I’ve already stated my position. As I said, let us focus on the issue at hoof. Ryan.” Celestia’s head dipped into a slow nod, ending up face to face with her sister once more. “I’ll have to speak with Twilight, myself,” she muttered to no one in particular. “Indeed. Now then…” Her lips pursed as she thought. “Let’s get to the conflict in its simplest form. Why can’t Ryan return to her family?” Deciding not to comment on her choice of words, the elder sister responded, “It’s not an impossibility; however, until we truly consider all our options, she will remain here.” “It is a possibility? What a change from earlier,” she commented, her words dripping with sarcasm. “Luna, weren’t you the one insisting we get back on subject?” “Guilty as charged,” she dismissed, “So Ryan does have a chance to go home. Good. I would prefer a guarantee, but I know that would be a fool’s wish for the moment. Now then, next issue. Do you admit to being prejudiced against Ryan and her species as a whole?” Celestia blinked, thoroughly caught off guard. Her head recoiled back as if struck. Brow furrowing as she realized just what exactly she was asked, she shook her head. “I most certainly am not,” she denied, “I don’t see why you insist bringing this baseless accusation up.” Luna’s expression could only be described as “Seriously?!” With a frown, she rebutted, “Baseless? How about your meeting with Ryan? Any real reason you were so cold? And no, being ‘desensitized over the centuries’ does not count as a real reason from the pony who had to excuse herself to cry during a romantic play last month.” “I…” Luna raised her eyebrow. “I don’t know…” she finished, “I just… I messed up. I did what my instinct told me to.” “And why ever would your instinct tell you to do that?” she questioned, knowing she would get no answer. Both royal ponies knew what the implication meant, especially after Luna’s accusation mere moments earlier. Could I…? Celestia took a few steps back, angling herself away from her sister for a needed moment. She looked to the ceiling aimlessly, adrift in her reflection. In all her years, she’d never let her prior beliefs dictate her actions; in fact, it was a rule of hers to be always give others a fair chance, despite who or what they are. So why would one particular race that’s not even on the planet be the exception? Maybe, her own mind answered, because of one particular student? “No…” she muttered under her breath, before bringing down her vision to her sister, “No, I am not prejudiced. I recognize I may have acted wrong, but one incident does not prove anything.” To her surprise, Luna actually smirked, no snarky comments or seething arguments present. “Well then,” she said with a newfound strength painting her voice a confident hue, “Let’s see if we can’t prove it.” “What are you saying?” Celestia inquired, the gentle tap of her hoof taking a step away audible. Luna took a step forward to match. Grinning, she continued, “I want you to go in there,” she twitched her head towards the door to the cell block, “and make this right. Undo the mistakes you’ve made. You claim you aren’t prejudiced, so I want you to prove it. Which shouldn’t be a problem if said claim is true. Hm?” Celestia’s mouth hung every-so-slightly agape in surprise at the turn. Finally reacting, she replied, “What do you expect me to do? Waltz in and announce that we’re opening the gate just for her?” “I’m sure she’d appreciate that,” Luna commented. Seeing the obvious reaction coming across her sister’s face, she added, “But that’s clearly not going to happen. What you do is up to you; though, I would advise starting with an apology.” The solar alicorn was, for one of the few times in her life, drawing a complete blank. Oddly, it was just after the plan was completely laid out for her. For whatever reason, the obvious solution seemed so distant. However, she realized that it was a distance she had to travel, however much it took out of her. She took in a breath of the musty, underground castle air, not holding it in very long. “Alright,” she agreed, “I will. But don’t expect my view on the issue to change because of it.” Her horn lit as the magic reached out, grasping for the doorknob. “Don’t worry,” Luna responded, “I wasn’t already. Now go.” With a steady nod, Celestia magicked open the doorway, an unfamiliar sinking feeling falling through her. It only took the alicorn a moment to spot her former student huddled next to a cell close by. She looked to be paying attention to another subject, as shown by the attentive expression she wore that Celestia could always recognize from her years of teaching. However, there weren’t any words in the air to hear; she was simply observing or thinking or a mixture of both. Seeing the younger alicorn brought forth a warmer, pleasant emotion in contrast to the one just earlier. “Twilight?” Celestia telepathically called out. Her reaction was instantaneous. The mare straightened up, and her ears swiveled helplessly, trying to pinpoint exactly where the sound had come from. After a moment of futile effort, her head turned to the doorway, comprehension dawning as she saw Celestia. “I’m guessing that was telepathy you used?” she responded, using the same, outwardly silent technique. “Mmhm. How is she?” Her hoof gestured to the cell Twilight stood in front of. Twilight glanced back into the cell, using the same attentive expression from earlier. After a moment, she said aloud, “Um, could I have a moment, Ryan? …Thanks.” Walking over to Celestia, she then adressed, “Well, she’s just depressed above all else. I would go as far to say miserable. She really wanted to go home…” “…I know. Tell me, did you tell her of what the current plan is?” “You mean keeping her here until we come up with an actual plan? …Sorry, that probably sounded like a wise remark,” she said with a sheepish smile. Celestia waved her off. “It is technically the truth. No harm in saying it.” Dropping into an unhidden frown, she started, “Twilight? I heard that Luna told you what happened to an old student of mine.” Twilight’s eyes expanded to saucers. “Uh, yeah… She did.” She could only stare up blankly for a moment as the revelation sank in. She knew that Celestia would tell her eventually, but she doubted that she would hear of Luna’s role. The mare was simply caught off guard at the suddenness. At the silence, Celestia continued, “Now isn’t the time to talk about this, but I just wanted to tell you this… I’m sorry I kept this from you, especially when you may have needed to hear it. I make no excuses, but it is just…” “I understand,” Twilight interrupted, “No one should ever have to go through that. It’s alright.” Celestia flashed a meager smile. “Thank you… Now, may I ask you something?” “Of course.” Her face betrayed only the smallest hesitation. “Do you think I would be able to talk to Ryan?” “Oh, uh…” She glanced behind her to the cell. Although she couldn’t see her, she knew Ryan was in there. “I’m not too sure—well actually, I am sure. I know she doesn’t like you. But… I guess it would depend on what you had to say?” “I wish only to make amends for the errors I’ve made,” she explained, “First and foremost, with an apology for how I’ve treated her.” “I...” she drew out, quickly running different scenarios through her head, “I think that could be alright. Though, I doubt she would react well to you initially.” “I figured as much,” she replied, “I’m sure I’ll be able to get through to her.” “…Alright,” Twilight agreed, “This will probably for the best. I’ll let her know you’re coming.” “Thank you, Twilight.” Ryan had only nodded when Twilight asked to leave, for she didn’t care if the alicorn had stayed or gone. She doubted she would have cared anyways, but there was more for her mind to dwell upon. So Celestia’s an irrational racist, her mind thought, Can’t say I’m surprised about that. The revelation hadn’t struck her very hard; though, she was caught off guard by the tragedy called Celestia’s student. Twilight wasn’t lying when she told that it would shed a new light on things. To be honest with herself, though, she felt a bit disappointed at the new information. It gave her less of a reason to despise the goddess. Can you really hate someone for having an irrational disdain? Technically yes, as Ryan proved, since she still did hate Celestia. At the very least, try to control yourself, she argued to the goddess that wasn’t there. Her one-sided argument was cut off, however, at Twilight’s return. Ryan lazily drifted her attention to her as she said, “Ryan? Funny timing with story because, well, someone wants to see you. Celestia. She says she wants to make amends for what’s happened.” Ryan’s eyes widened. Celestia wants to see her, she thought, The one who trapped her here… The one who trapped her here wants to see her. “Oh…” she managed out, causing Twilight to frown. Her rapid thoughts danced about her mind, leading all her attention into the meanings behind such a meeting. Make amends, she repeated, Could mean she’ll actually apologize, or it could mean she’ll send me… No, she interrupted herself, Don’t get your hopes up. But back on topic, should she agree? She had absolutely nothing to lose—except for her attitude, that is. So why not give said goddess a piece of her mind, eh? Her lips cracked a dry smile at the thought. One last hurrah. “Alright,” she agreed, “But could we speak privately? Just her and I?” “Oh! Sure,” Twilight replied, her eyes reading that she was caught off guard by the willingness. At the very least, she expected some form of resistance. “I’ll tell her… And Ryan? I just want to tell you that everything’s going to be alright. I’m sure of it.” “Thanks, Twilight,” she responded simply. Staying only a moment longer, Twilight left her vision, leaving Ryan with a brevity to herself. It lasted only a minute, but the seconds were waited on anxiously. The woman did her best to prepare for what she knew was coming, thinking of what she was going to say. A few choice words did come to her before others. “Ryan?” a voice spoke out. She recognized that voice; however, unlike the first time, it wasn’t surprising and certainly not pleasant to the ear. She didn’t bother making the effort to turn her head as she rasped out, “Celestia.” She hardly noticed her own lips curl into a snarl. Hearing the following silence, Celestia continued, her long practiced formalities in full swing, “Allow me a moment, please.” Before Ryan could make sense of the sudden request, her sight was blinded by a golden flash. She cried out in surprise as she suddenly fell backwards, the wall she leaned against apparently disappearing or becoming intangible or whatever else magic could do. As she debated between whether to rub her eyes or the back of her head first, Ryan’s bleary vision did manage to make out some image—or rather, just a color. She squinted her eyes at the hazy blue sky above her, it being completely clear yet foggy simultaneously. Shifting her head to the side, she made out the blurred horizon, the snowy white ground melding into the sky at no definite line, much like she’d seen in photographs of icy tundra close up north. She briefly wondered if that was where she was, teleported to some glacier in who knows where, but that thought was quickly dismissed by the bleak ground under her and the moderate temperature of the area. Except now there was snow on the ground. Her brow furrowed as she scooped a clump of the powder up in her hand. It was cold to the touch and left her hand damp, which was made chillier by the frosty air around her. “What…?” she murmured. It wasn’t cold a second ago, and there certainly wasn’t any snow. She pushed herself back onto her feet for a better view and darted her head from left to right, only seeing the endless expanse of the bizarre land trailing away with no end in sight. “I know that must have been sudden,” the voice spoke out, this time from behind, “But you said you wanted it private, yes? I, myself, also share that sentiment.” “What is this?” Ryan questioned, more confused than irritated, “Where did you teleport me?” Celestia strode up to stand by Ryan’s side, prompting the woman to instinctively draw back. She said, “This, Ryan, is a dreamscape I’ve constructed between our minds. To others outside the dreamscape, it will seem as if only a moment has passed while inside, we may take as long as we like. Aside from locking ourselves in an isolated room, this is the best way to speak privately.” “Okay…” she said, “Then what about the snow? Where did that come from?” “Since it is our minds creating this artificial world, we’re able to influence it with our thoughts. I assume you compared the initial landscape to a snowy environment?” “Uh-huh.” “Then that would be the cause for the change. It is a common mistake for newcomers to make.” Hey eyes shut briefly as she concentrated. By the time she reopened them, all the snow had melted away and the temperature returned to normal. “There,” she said, “Now it’s back to the original form.” Ryan nodded; though, her attention was elsewhere. She was aware of Celestia standing right beside her, but, as usual, she couldn’t force herself to look directly at her lest she lose her nerve. However, her mind rushed, if this is all in my head… Then she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity. “So this is like…” She snapped her fingers as she tried to recall the term. “…lucid dreaming?” “It’s comparable to that, yes.” “So I can force my mind into thinking you aren’t a horse,” she concluded. It wasn’t a question. Celestia frowned, put off by the seemingly random comment. “I… suppose,” she admitted, “Though, I don’t see why—” Ryan snapped her head toward Celestia, grimly smirking at the goddess as she truly stared her down for the first time. “Good,” she said, “Because I want to look you in the eye when I tell you how much I hate you.” The alicorn’s eyes widened. “Ryan…” she tried, which was promptly ignored by the infuriated woman. Ryan took a step forward and, dropping her dry smile into a scowl, blustered, “I hate you. I hate everything about you. I hate your righteous attitude. I hate your greater-than-you attitude. And I especially hate your belief in the ‘greater good.’” She narrowed her eyes, as she leaned into Celestia. “Greater good? Really? Who do you think you are?” Celestia merely stared back into the rant, growing into an unflinching and unemotional demeanor at every word. Her tone carrying an icy monotone, she simply replied, “I am an immortal goddess who has successfully lead her people to prosperity for multiple millennia.” The woman unconsciously took a step away as if struck by the words. For a brief moment, the anxiety she suppressed heated up, but she quickly snuffed it out. Putting on her brave face again, she shot back, “See? That’s what I’m talking about. You act all high and mighty. Sure, you may have lead a nation, but that only means you’re good at your job. Not being a… a half-way decent person.” “I wouldn’t have succeeded in my job if I wasn’t, as you put it, ‘half-way decent.’ A ruler must be as compassionate as they are skilled,” she retorted calmly, her eyes half-lidded. “Compassionate?” Ryan scoffed, “You call your tactless display earlier compassionate?” Celestia briefly looked away, past Ryan, before answering, “I admit I made a mistake earlier. I acted completely out of line—” “You sure don’t sound like you care,” she interrupted, “You sound exactly like you do earlier—bored, disinterested. But this isn’t all that I’m talking about. I’ve heard about you.” “Oh?” Celestia said, raising an eyebrow. Despite the obvious bad pretenses, she was interested in just what Ryan claimed to have heard. “That’s right. How can you call yourself decent when you banished your own sister?” All curiosity taking the backseat, Celestia’s face dropped into a barely repressed scowl. A stinging edge adorning her voice, she said, “Don’t bring Luna into this.” “Ah! That’s her name,” Ryan thought out loud, “And yes, I am bringing her into this, whether you like it or not. How could you do that to your own family?” “I couldn’t.” Celestia stepped forward, forcing Ryan to briefly waver. “What I banished was a horrid beast that had taken her. I knew she would come back.” “But it was still your sister!” the woman hissed back, putting emphasis on every point, “She only got like that because of you ignoring her. They preferred you. So instead of helping her, you decided to banish her for a blasted millennia—” “Don’t tell me what I did and didn’t do,” Celestia suddenly snapped at her, discarding her regal demeanor, “I did what was necessary for my subjects. The eternal night the Nightmare wanted would’ve slowly killed everything. Trees, crops, entire farms. Then that would’ve killed everyone in turn.” “There we go again for the good—” Her voice cracked. “Ahem. Good of the people. As noble as that isn’t, you still banished her instead of, I don’t know, simply defeating her with those magic things Twilight had? Oh, wait. That’s how you solve all your problems isn’t it?” “Excuse me?” “Discord, that Somber guy, your sister. You just lock them up for a few thousand years and hope it doesn’t bite you in the ass later. I take back what I said about you being good at your job. For all the boasting about protecting your subjects, all you do is give the current problem to a later generation. You don’t care about any of them. Not your subjects, not your sister, and not even your student.” Celestia’s eyes expanded to saucers. “Why—” “You heard me. That student that got killed and you got all upset over? You willingly let her go into the world you were so worried about. Now what does that say about—” “That is enough!” Celestia bellowed, her magically boosted voice knocking Ryan back onto her rear. She strode over Ryan, who stared back up wide-eyed at the unexpected blow of words. Leaning over the woman and finally glaring without restraint, she fumed, “How dare you? I have stood here and allowed you to vent at me, but I will not tolerate you bringing my loved ones into this, much less accusing me of not caring for them. I love them unrequitedly and ask for nothing more in return than to see the happiness upon their faces. Even if I make mistakes. Both banishing my sister and allowing my student to go through the gate are just the greatest in a long list… So when you say I do not care, know you are saying complete rubbish. Understand?” Celestia ended her rant breathing heavily and a snarl lining her face. She hardly paid Ryan any attention in her billowing words, completely focused on speaking her enraged thoughts. Thus, it came as a surprise to her when the answer that came to her was not a weak whisper of forced agreement nor a defiant remark, but it was instead a whimper. The goddess’s brow furrowed at the sound; dropping her gaze down, she found the woman below her pulled in close, her hands weakly held out in front of her, and an uneven series of shuddering breaths emanating. Celestia watched for only a moment before she fully realized what had happened. The times she had talked back to Ryan, the woman would draw back or give the slightest hint of a flinch. Ryan had taken advantage of the dreamscape to disregard her fear, but she was only half of the dreamscape. Celestia had just as much influence in it, perhaps more since she had more experience in it as well as having constructed it in the first place, so her own will could weaken Ryan’s. Of course, in order to do so, she would have had to directly contradict Ryan’s will, which implied… I wanted her to fear me? Celestia thought. She backed a fair distance away from the woman, making sure to get out of sight. No, she argued, I didn’t want that to happen. So then why— “Looks like you can’t prove it,” she could hear her sister answer. Celestia’s head shot up quickly. She hadn’t imagined that voice. “I’m right here, sister. You should know better than using a dreamscape to attempt to avoid me.” “Luna,” Celestia gasped, tracing the sound to where her dark-coated sister stood, gazing back emotionlessly, “How long…” “I’ve been here the whole time,” she explained, “Just watching.” Looking past her sister, she made out the trembling form of Ryan curled up on the ground, having turned away from them. With a shake of her head, she said, “I believe standing over her and snapping at her was the worst possible thing you could have done. It is much too similar to the event that gave her the fear in the first place.” “I didn’t mean to do that. Incite her phobia, I mean. She had it under control.” Luna cocked her head. “Then how did she lose control of it? You know how the rules work in here.” “I don’t know. She wouldn’t have hindered herself, and I didn’t force her.” Luna strode to her sister’s side, putting her hoof on her shoulder. “On the contrary, I think you may have, even if you didn’t know it.” “What?” the elder of the two sisters asked, not following the vague explanation. Elaborating further, Luna continued, “Tell me, you clearly lost your normally untouchable temper. Even when facing Chrysalis and Discord, the most you did was keep a reserved demeanor. Why was it that this time was so different?” “I…” “You know the answer, don’t you? I’ve told you it all along.” Celestia closed her eyes, forcing herself to turn away. “I… I’m biased against her, aren’t I? Like you said, I may not even realize it.” Luna nodded, gently using her hoof to pull her sister’s eyes back to hers. “Do not fret, sister. No one is without their faults; we all know that too well. It is just part of being someone.” “Yes… I know… Just, why, Luna? I’ve never let prejudice dominate my actions before.” “You know the answer to that as well, already.” The solar alicorn dropped her gaze again, trying to push back the bile of memories threatening to spew into her mind. With a sigh, she meagerly asked, “What do I do now? I don’t believe myself fit to continue speaking with her.” “You will be fine.” “But what if I lose myself again?” she worried, “Look what I’ve already done to her.” “You will be fine, I assure you. Now, I want you to listen to me.” She continued only after she got a firm nod from her sister. “I told you before you left to speak with Ryan that I wanted you to prove to me that you aren’t prejudiced. In truth, it was quite obvious to me that you were, and I only wanted you to see it for yourself. Now that you have, I want you to prove a real thing.” Celestia stared back expectantly, her ears perked forward. “I want you to prove that you are still the kind pony that you were a week ago. If you recall, I told you to speak to her and make things right. It’s not too late to do that.” Celestia was silent for a moment as thoughts raced about her head. It’s as simple as that… “…Alright,” the sun goddess spoke, “I will. I promise I’ll make everything better.” Luna gave her an honest smile. “There she is. I wouldn’t expect any less of you.” “Thank you, Luna,” Celestia quietly replied. She extended her wing, pulling her sister into a firm embrace which was kindly reciprocated. “You’re very welcome,” she replied. She held her sister only a moment longer before gently breaking away. Celestia reluctantly did so as well, directing her gaze to Ryan for a brevity. She said, “She’s bound to be angry or, at the very least, exhausted when I talk to her again.” “You’ll just have to work with her the best you are able,” Luna replied, matching Celestia’s gaze, “But I’m confident you are more than able.” She offered a thankful smile in return, but it dropped as she looked the lunar alicorn over curiously. Before Luna could comment, Celestia asked, “Speaking of angry… Why aren’t you? You were cross with me earlier and the past few hours. Now…” She trailed off at Luna’s waiting stare. Nodding, she responded, “I admit I was upset with you, to say the least, but I wasn’t entirely angry. I was…” She twirled her hoof thoughtfully before settling on: “…Disappointed. Especially after what just happened. But know this: You see the error in your way, and that is what I’ve hoped from you more than anything else. So, no, I am not angry, and no, I am no longer disappointed. Now, I believe we’ve kept Ryan waiting long enough, yes?” “Mm. Thanks again. Truly.” “But of course. It is just what family does—help each other.” With a wave of her hoof, her form was swept away into nothingness, leaving behind no residue, but not before whispering, “As long as you try, I will not be disappointed.” The sun goddess watched the empty air that Luna occupied moments ago before she turned away, a reassured smile dancing on her lips. She would make everything better, she thought, She was sure of it. And she would start, first and foremost, with an apology, just as she promised.