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// Prompt #109: Inevitable 
// Story: Ponywatching 
// by ThunderTempest 
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They call it the one true inevitability. Or at least, they used to. They can’t now, of course, for perhaps obvious reasons.

I used to be somepony, you know? I, and my sister, we built Equestria up from Discord’s rule. We dodged the inevitable fate so many times. We travelled the length and breadth of the world four times over, adventuring.

I cannot help but laugh at how idealistic we once were. So confident, so assured that nothing would ever kill us, the twin Alicorn Sisters. As long as we had each other’s backs, we were unstoppable, unassailable titans. We righted wrongs, we fought dragons, and at times, almost meter by meter, we carved Equestria out and into the world.

And then Luna became Nightmare Moon. I am ashamed to say that I did not see it developing. But it was something else. It was the closest that I have come to death since the day of my birth. And of course, you likely know the reason why. She was still my sister. She knew how I fought, she knew where the holes were. The holes that she normally covered. And despite the fact that I knew she was being possessed by some evil spirit, it was still her inside. I could barely bring myself to strike her down. 

The Elements were a last-ditch effort. They protested every inch of the way, but I was eventually able to seal Nightmare Moon into the moon. But no more would the elements answer my calls. I had to re-evaluate how things worked. No longer could I be the mare who solved everything on her own.  I would have to step back, let my little ponies handle things. And you know, they did so well.
I barely had to do anything, just keep the country running, the moon and the sun cycling, and wait and guide. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve had a proper adventure, now,” said Celestia, the red of her expanding star shining off her, and reflected in her flowing mane, “but when you’re as long-lived as I am, even defying death becomes boring after a while.”

‘I SUPPOSE,’ said her companion, wreathed in a cloak that was black enough that it could have been woven out of the spaces between stars. ‘I WOULDN’T KNOW.’

Unlike Celestia, her companion stood on two legs and upright, a scythe resting against his shoulder. His voice seemed to go straight into Celestia’s head without bothering to go through the trouble of entering her ears first.

“I suppose you wouldn’t,” smiled Celestia, “still, it is rather nice of you to indulge me a last monologue. I don’t get many chances these days. I don’t suppose that you can tell me what happens after, can you?”

‘I CANNOT,’ said Death, inspecting an exceptionally large hourglass, ‘AND RELIGION IS FUZZY ON THE SUBJECT.’

“Well then,” said Celestia, “I shall just have to wait and see for myself. I will miss this world, though.”

There was silence between the two for a while. In the sky, the star grew angrier and redder. An age could have passed, as it consumed the sky. Celestia simply watched as eventually, it swallowed the planet that Equestria rested on.

And finally, when the final grain of sand dropped from the upper bulb of the hourglass, the star that Celestia had guided across the sky for untold years exploded, and Celestia’s physical form gave up its hold on her spirit.

“Well,” said Celestia, standing in the space where the planet had once been, “that was slightly unpleasant. But I do believe that I am ready for one last adventure. Shall we?”

‘YES,’ said Death, ‘WE SHALL.’