The moon was rising gently over the Canterlot Sculpture Gardens as Celestia walked from statue to statue. As was usual for the guards watching over the Gardens, they saw no hint of what the Princess was looking for, or what she was thinking. It was only once the gentle oranges and purples of twilight had given way to the darker blues of pure night that the guards saw Princess Luna, restored to her throne, exit the castle and walk straight to the central statue: Victory.
At a subtle motion from the Solar Princess, the guards left the two sisters alone, vanishing back into the castle.
“You kept them,” were Luna’s first words, the moment that the guards were out of earshot. Her eyes never left the statue of the caped pony, waving its flag.
“How could I not?” said Celestia, striding up beside her sister, “I never did figure out what they were for. The only thing I found in your notes was a reference to this piece-Luna’s Victory.”
“They were supposed to be a surprise,” muttered Luna, “we spent hours learning all the spells required, not to mention carving and shaping.”
“No wonder your telekinetic fine control improved, if you were carving things like these. They are works of art, Luna. You should feel proud of them.” Celestia nuzzled her reformed sister.
“If you wish, sister, we can show you what they are.”
Celestia paused for a moment. She could see, in her sister’s eyes that Luna wanted, or needed to do this. Celestia nodded, and Luna’s magic, though still a shadow of its former self, sprung to life. Sparks of dark blue magic flitted off Luna’s horn, embedding themselves into the statues around the gardens. A second passed, and Luna’s eyes scrunched closed, and the glow from her magic intensified. There was a bright flash, and then Luna stood panting from the extertion.
“Are you all right, Luna? If you feel uneasy, I can-,” Celestia paused, as the grinding sound of stone on stone made itself known to her ears. She faced Victory, and watched in equal parts horror and fascination as the statue stepped off its platform, wrenching what Celestia had thought to be a flag pole from the stone, revealing it to be a spear. She watched silently as it plodded over to Luna, cracks in the stone forming around where legs bent and joined the torso. And Celestia watched as one by one, each of the statues in the Canterlot Sculpture Gardens climbed off its base and came to life. Each one treading over to Luna, and lowering their heads in submission.
“Golems,” breathed Celestia, “you made golems. How many?”
“Sister?” asked Luna, looking up at Celestia
“How many, Luna?” demanded Celestia.
“How many times did you leave a pony’s sentence to us to determine? How many times did you turn away when the truly abhorrent were brought before us? How many times have you shied away from administering the only viable punishment? That many,” said Luna, staring directly into her sister’s eyes.
“No, it-it must have been the Nightmare’s influence on you, twisting your thoughts to think that-,” began Celestia, but she was cut off by Luna pressing a steel-shod hoof onto her mouth.
“No Nightmare,” whispered Luna, “just me.”
Celestia stared at Luna for a while longer, then gently pressed down on Luna’s hoof, pushing it back down to the ground.
“Victory was the final one,” said Luna, “she was actually a volunteer. Our old Guard Commander, White Knight. She said that she would give anything for an eternity of service under us. Sister, the ponies would have died anyway. I simply put them to use. No personality, no rebellion possible. Their final redemption, reparation to our country.” Luna looked up at Celestia, searching for some hint as to what her sister was thinking.
“No Nightmare,” reiterated Luna, “just me.”
“That doesn’t make it better, Luna,” whispered Celestia.
“I was just trying to help,” said Luna, switching her gaze back to her golem forces, and with a twitch of her horn and magic, sent them back to their statues. As the grinding of stone on stone once more filled the gardens, neither sister spoke until Victory herself had resumed her pose, the golems repairing themselves until once more they looked like harmless statues.
“They were different times, sister. More dangerous times. You know this as well as I,” said Luna.
“That doesn’t make it right, Luna. There was a reason that kind of magic was restricted.”
“After my banishment,” stated Luna. “these were created well before that, and you know it. I was just trying to help.”
“I-I need to think, Luna. I will talk to you about this tomorrow,” said Celestia, walking back to the castle, leaving Luna to stare up at the statue of Victory.
“No Nightmare,” she muttered to herself, “just me.”
And then Luna strode back into the castle, and up her bedroom. She knew that Celestia knew that she believed she was in the right. Whether or not that translated into keeping the golems would be another matter entirely.
*****
“You’re making golems, Princess.”
“Yes. We suppose that thou are going to tell our sister now. Go. We shall accept whatever punishment she sees fit. We know that she does not approve of these magics.”
“I’m not going to tell Princess Celestia, Princess Luna. As your military advisor and the commander of your guard, I can see the advantage of a force like this-a force that never tires, never needs sleep or food. I just have one request.”
“What is it, White Knight?”
“Make me into one. My body is failing, and I’d hate to leave the Princesses without a good protector, especially with the situation with the Griffons getting worse.”
“You understand the price of this, correct? There is no reversing it, nor will your personality make it through. Only your lifeforce will fuel the spell.”
“I understand. Do it. Because I want Equestria to have victory, and it’s better to have these and not need them.”
“As you say, White Knight. For victory.”