i
My tools were right where I had left them when the guards had first confronted me, and I grabbed them as I started back towards the Sisyphys.
I thought I heard the sword fall into the freshly fallen snow as it was dropped carelessly and the mare who had been holding it followed me as my pace increased to a mad canter.
The gangplank of the Sisyphys was still down. I sprinted into the dark interior of the ship without once turning to see if Willow indeed was following me.
“Luna!” I called as I trotted back to the control panel. “I’m alright! Come on out, I need your help.”
“Celestia!” I heard her muffled voice scream, and then the board on the ceiling was pushed aside as Luna dropped back down into the gondola. She wasted no time in dashing up to me and nearly tackling me off my hooves with a flying embrace.
“I thought they had you!”
“They did.”
“What’s on your horn?! And why are you bleeding? And how did you escape?”
“I had help,” I said simply, motioning back to the mare still standing on the threshold between the gangplank and the deck of the airship. In Luna’s mad jubilation, she must have completely missed the mare in Erisian armour, but her eyes widened in shock and confusion the moment I pointed her out.
...Or perhaps she was simply in shock of the airship she had found herself in—built from everything and anything, and looking about as flightworthy as a bag of bricks.
"It's... a piece of junk," she said bluntly.
“She's decided killing me isn't on her agenda. We'll talk later,” I forcibly grabbed Luna and turned her attention back to the snow covered window at the front of the ship. “We need to take off now. And I need your help, Luna.”
Luna nodded once to show me that I had it.
“We’re gonna use the eastward wind to escape, but I need to get the propellers started so that we can outrun that Scoutship.”
Luna said nothing, but nodded again.
“See this switch here?” I pointed at it with a hoof. It was a small steel affair painted black, with three different positions. “This is the choke. It primes the fuel intake for the engines. Understand?”
She looked lost, but nodded again nonetheless.
“I’ve gotta go outside and start the props manually. Once they’re started, you need to fiddle around with the choke until the engine catches the fuel and stays running. Got it?”
“Yeah… I think so…”
“Good,” I gave her a supportive but obviously false grin, and then, still toting my tools, I was off.
Back in the snow, I ducked underneath the hovering gondola and made my way to the propeller car bolted to a protruding fin near the stern of the ship. The propellor itself was covered with snow and ice which I promptly cleared off with a rusty knife that was amongst my tools.
Once the propellor was clear, I clambered atop the car itself, the thing only just large and strong enough to support my weight. I pried open the maintenance panel and stood staring at the bundle of wiring within. The ignition coil was clearly visible amongst them—I had started the propellers manually before, although without anypony to help me with the fuel choke it hadn’t stayed started for long.
I took one glance back at the Scoutship—hovering menacingly and motionlessly—and then connected the wires on the ignition coil. In a burst of electricity the propellor sputtered a massive amount of smoke and grease as it attempted to ignite the fuel.
“Luna!” I screamed, giving the gondola a hard hit with a wrench for good measure.
The frequency of the ship’s engine grew more frantic, and I dropped my tools and wasted no time in sprinting back to the gangplank and then to the control panel.
I took the choke switch from Luna and brought it to full, half, then back to full, repeating the procedure rhythmically until the props irritated whining grew consistent.
“Alright. Once more. Same thing.”
I tore into the snow a second time, hesitating for a moment to first glance at the running engine, and then in the direction of the Scoutship.
I was quickly thankful I did, for I saw from the quick glance the stallion guard tearing through the snow after me, wielding a sharp looking spear and snarling in fury. I grinned in response. He wouldn’t be getting me off guard and by surprise this time, and I was hardly frightened of him now.
The device was still attached onto my horn like a troublesome tumour, cutting off my magic, whereas he was using his to keep the spear angled towards me as he charged. He was all fury and no tact.
I dodged underneath the spear easily, and barrelled into the stallion with all my weight. The moment he hit the ground I bucked him with both my back hooves, pushing him at least an additional half-dozen feet through the snow.
I grabbed his spear, snapped it, took one glance at his form in the snow—unconscious from one buck alone—then I spat on him and tore back towards the Sisyphys one final time.
After having to fiddle with a faulty wire on the second engine car, the infernal thing started, giving me a sharp electric shock in the process.
Trotting back up the gangplank once more, I seated myself next to Luna at the control panel again, this time with the din of the spinning propellers ringing out on both sides.
It would be several minutes before they were at a speed that would actually be able to move the Sisyphys forwards with any speed, of course. Several minutes I could not spare. The small sails mounted on the sides of the ship would have to suffice. If the Sisyphys was a goldfish, then the sails were her pectoral fins.
I grasped the steering column in my shaking hooves and stared straight forwards.
“Do… do you even know how to fly an airship, Celestia?” Luna asked pensively, noticing my troubled expression.
“Of course I do!” I squawked abruptly.
To show that I indeed did know what I was doing, I threw a lever at random and gripped the control column tighter. My guess with the lever was apparently quite correct, because outside I heard the sound of the mooring line being snapped by some mechanically activated blade mechanism.
The moment the mooring was loose the wildly blowing wind caught the airship's sails and started pushing her forwards. Even with the propellers dead we started moving forwards with the wind.
The transport ships crept past on our sides, and a building directly in front of us threatened us with the promise of an incoming collision.
“Ah, Celestia!” Luna shrilled. “Might wanna make us go up!”
“I know, I know!” I snapped, hunting for some sort of ballast control. I began throwing more switches at random, and eventually the satisfying sound of a sudden torrent of water outside greeted my efforts. The ship lurched suddenly, and the whole gondola pitched as the Sisyphys struck one of the transport ships during its ascent.
The Sisyphys reeled to the side from the impact, barely clearing the roof of the tavern. I battled with the steering column, managing to level the ship’s flightpath above Cluster 13.
“Told you I knew what I was doing,” I said, smiling triumphantly and closing the ballast tanks again, locking the lever in place to make sure it would not be flipped again accidentally
“The Scoutship is gonna be on your tail in seconds without your props running full speed,” Willow warned after a while, still standing alone far from the control panel Luna and I were seated at.
As if on cue, we were suddenly blinded by bright light as the Scoutship angled it’s searchbeam directly at us, mounting into the air just as quickly and much more gracefully than we had, and with her left prop churning the winter air. By contrast, I had to rely on the awkward and inefficient crosswinds to try and make my escape, with the engines hardly up to any measure of speed that could propel us forwards. I cursed and twisted the column around again. The Sisyphys began gradually turning away from the ship coming at us headlong, and the searchlight was no longer blinding us through the long glass window at the bow of the airship.
Underneath us the lights of the few buildings of Cluster 13 passed as we crept away from the tiny settlement. I’d haphazardly bolted a maritime compass I’d found in the scrapyard to the Sisyphys’s dashboard, and it spun as our course changed to show me that we were now flying to the South-East. It was a direction that would ultimately take us back to Pillory, but at that moment I hardly cared about flying North. I could worry about that when we were not being pursued.
Besides, to the East was the towering mountain range, violently and abruptly jutting out of the outskirts of the flatlands. It was hardly ideal, but seeing the freakish behemoths of nature looming dangerously close to us gave me a daring idea.
“Luna, go check on that Scoutship behind us,” I commanded, hoping it would distract her. I was concerned about the Scoutship, anyways. My eyes were locked directly ahead and I dared not leave the controls to look out the round window on the stern of the gondola.
Luna obeyed without protest, forsaking her seat beside me and making her way to the back of the ship.
“It’s getting pretty close,” she said warily. “I think they’re faster than us.”
Of course they were. It was stupid to think they wouldn’t have been. I was flying a rustbucket schooner that had probably been left abandoned for a good reason.
“Hey Willow, is that thing armed?” I called backwards. The mare looked oddly calm, leaning against the side of the gondola.
A sudden, booming sound rung out from some point outside the Sisyphys, as if we were flying through a thunderstorm. The sound instantly answered the question Willow had no chance to.
“What was that?!” Luna shrilled, dashing back to the bow of the ship and leaping into the chair next to me.
“Rockets,” Willow replied, suddenly beside me at the bow. “They’re firing at us.”
Sensing Luna’s terror, I finally looked away from the twin-peak-entrance to the mountain range before us and gave her a smile. “Don’t worry. There’s no way we’re already in range.”
Nodding reproachfully, Luna turned back to the blackness sprawled across the windows before us, noticing for the first time the mass of ancient stone. We were so close now that I could see scraggy trees clinging to patches of snow on the side of the mountains. I kept the yoke steady despite my shaking hooves.
“Celly… what are you doing?!”
I said nothing. Another rocket exploded against the mountain ahead of us, this time close enough that the sound of stone and shrapnel ringing against the gondola could be heard even over the Sisyphys’s droning engines. I was not entirely sure whether I was right about them being out of range, but it was likely they were merely warning shots anyways.
Luna repeated her question in a more panicked tone, and instead of remaining silent I retaliated sharply.
“Shut up, Luna! Let me focus!”
The Sisyphys crept into the mountain range, skirting along the side of the towering mountains. The sound of wood rending split out as the downwards pointing sail masts struck the mountains and were instantly torn off. The entire ship keeled a little from the impact.
I cursed loudly and jammed the throttles for the propellers all the way forwards. The props rose in pitch, sputtered a few times, but stayed spinning all the same.
The mighty goldfish crept forwards into the mountain range.
The sound of the unhealthy engines was so loud that I could not even hear my own voice as I told Luna to grab hold of something. Then, the Sisyphys lurched downwards as I vented the hydrogen gas from the balloons.
The crosswinds that had gotten us as far as the mountains were now no more, thanks to the walls of stone around us, but the propellers continued pushing us forwards as we descended into the snowy valley below.
I perhaps vented more gas than I’d intended, or else grossly underestimated the height of the valley, because in moments the stone ground had filled the front window with alarming detail.
“Pull up, you moron!” Willow barked suddenly, as the ground crept closer and closer. “Did you forget you’re flying an airship? Not exactly the most nimble vehicle!”
Despite my indignation at her bossing me around, she was not wrong. I twisted the control yoke forwards, and the sound of the once-derelict fins creaking responded. The ship recovered from its rapid descent with only about a dozen feet to spare.
“Keep her level,” I spat at Willow, clambering out of the seat so I could get a look at the Scoutship.
The Scoutship was keeling to the side, with only the power of one engine to push her forwards. The mountain range only got more and more difficult to navigate later on—I could see them arcing in impossible patterns so that sometimes, massive caverns formed out of immense slabs of stones pushed against each other.
We were hardly piloting a nimble craft ourselves, but to follow us further into the mountain range with a crippled ship was suicide. And the only other option would be to land and repair, in which case we would be able to escape all the same.
I trotted back to the controls grinning, and nearly shoved Willow out of my seat as I retook the steering column.
“Celestia… are we going through there?” Luna asked warily, pointing to one of the larger slab caverns that I indeed was heading towards.
“Yeah.”
“What?!” Willow shrilled. “You’re nuts! You’re gonna get yourself killed!”
“Wouldn’t you love that,” I retorted without bothering to turn around.
“But… what if it’s a dead end?” Luna asked. I gritted my teeth and tried to quell my indignation at her taking Willow’s side.
I didn’t speak as the Sisyphys crept into the gaping cavern entranceway.
Behind me, the Scoutship was evidently slowing her engine as she saw the same entranceway before us and prepared to give chase, but with only one her descent was slow and lethargic compared to our nimble and hectic drop.
“Why isn’t he flying over?” Willow breathed, looking backwards also. “What the hell is he thinking?”
I once again remained silent, although I had a thousand insults on my tongue I could have spat as an answer to her query.
The simple answer was that he was probably too frightened of losing sight of us with the snow a swirling blizzard. And besides, going over the mountains would be next to impossible with only one functional propeller.
So, through the cavern it was.
“Do you even have working running lights on this piece of junk?” Willow Whisper was complaining.
I cast her a bitter glance and flipped the switch to turn them on.
Nothing happened.
“Shut up,” I grumbled.
Fortunately, the Scoutship’s searchlight was directed on us once more as she also reached the gaping entrance.
Unfortunately, the gondola suddenly lurched as another explosion rung out directly beside us, close enough that the sparks from the rending stone showered against the windshield of the Sisyphys.
We were a looming target now, without much room for the Scoutship to miss. The walls of the cavern were so close that if I were perched on the engine car, I could lean over and tap them. Any narrower and we would be crushed between them.
This, however, gave us an advantage. With no room to navigate, the Scoutship would plow into us headlong if she successfully shot us down, and it seemed like the cowardly Erisian guard stallion had no intention of sacrificing his own life and ship to take us down.
“You’re nuts,” Willow muttered again, watching the stone passing within spitting distance of us.
“Heard you the first time,” I shot back. “Luna, mounted at the back of the ship are two oil lanterns. Go grab them.”
Without uttering a word, Luna crept from her chair and did as she was told. The poor filly’s eyes were wide with terror as she deliberately avoided allowing them to turn towards the narrow cavern walls beside us.
“Listen,” I whispered the moment Luna was gone. “That little filly is terrified enough as it is. Do you mind not making it worse with your constant negativity?”
Willow Whisper’s disgust was evident. She looked as though she were ready to spit in my face as a response. Fortunately, she too kept her voice low. “You’re the terrifying one to her.”
To my surprise, Willow followed her attack by withdrawing a book of matches from her armour and offering them to me. I was unphased and responded with indignation all the same, rudely tearing the matches out of her hooves.
“And you’re the reason I have to be,” I managed to shoot back, but I fell silent in a moment as Luna struggled back with two heavy looking oil lanterns.
“Take her steady forwards,” I commanded, offering the yoke to Willow as I rose again and took the lanterns from Luna.
I lit both lanterns with the matches Willow had given me. One of the glass windows on the side of the ship slid open, and a rusty nail had been pounded in and arced upwards against the outside of gondola, and it was on this that I mounted the lantern. The light was enough to touch the sides of the cavern on both port and starboard, which would at least offer us a bit of reference once the Scoutship’s searchlight was off.
Willow, despite her generally sour attitude towards me and Luna, was piloting the ship smoothly through the cavern all the same, so I afforded myself a backwards glance at the Scoutship.
I was glad I did, because in the moment I turned around I saw her one running propeller suddenly start grinding against the stone. The sound was audible even over both of our ship’s droning engines, and the sudden shower of sparks were like fireworks exploding in the cavern.
Then, the entire engine car burst into flames.
Without thinking, I let out a jubilant shout. The damage from the exploding engine car had already spread to the wooden gondola. In moments, the whole thing would be a nest of flame. The balloon would sag from the heat, and the entire ship would come to rest permanently in the stone cavern.
My plan had worked.
There was no time to celebrate, however, because the awful sound of the propeller striking stone had been enough to eclipse Willow’s attention. Our ship began keeling also, rising from only a slight nudge of the control yoke. The Sisyphys’ goldfish caudal fin ground against the roof of the ceiling.
I cantered back to the controls, shoved Willow out of them, and levelled the ship without a word. I was still grinning even as I felt the yoke respond sluggishly. The impact must have severed one of the control cables.
Nonetheless, the flames of the burning Scoutship were enough to light our way forwards, and I was still smiling at the sight.
Luna, however, was not.
“Celestia…” she growled. Our situation was a mere repeat of the wreck of the Damask Rose, and Luna was no such fool to not realize it.
“I don’t want to hear any of it right now,” I replied. My smile had fallen and guilt had begun to tug it into a frown.
We continued flying on, past the lights that the flames of the Scoutship produced. We flew on into the darkness, with only the dim light of the lanterns clattering against the airships wood to navigate by.
ii
With the Scoutship gone, the only sounds for some time were random unseen parts of the Sisyphys striking the stone walls, never with enough intensity to actually do any crippling damage.
After a short flight, the cavern opened to moonlight. The Sisyphys once more squeezed through without a foot to spare, and we continued our flight through the mountain range.
The maritime compass spun as I twisted the steering column. We were once more flying North.
Despite all the excitement, Luna had dozed off by time we left the mountain range behind and were once more flying over the infinite plains. I’d lifted her delicately and carried her to the back of the Sisyphys, setting her down gently on an old, moldy couch and spreading my torn cloak across her as a blanket.
Willow Whisper wordlessly took the seat next to me not long after Luna had vacated it. I wasn’t about to speak it out loud, but part of me was thankful for her company.
That wasn’t to say her company entailed a whole lot. Neither of us did a whole lot more than simply stare at the night below us. I made one passing comment about the night presently pushing its thirty-sixth hour, but it produced no response from Willow.
It wasn’t until I asked her a question that she finally spoke.
“Are you afraid of me?” I mumbled, casting a wayward glance in her direction. She continued staring straight ahead, pretending not to notice.
“Yes.”
“Really. You’re afraid of me,” I drawled, raising an eyebrow. “You’re afraid of the young mare you almost decapitated with a silver sword after brutally beating her and breaking her nose?”
“You don’t have to point out the obvious irony. I’m well aware.”
“Alright,” I looked back to the moving sky directly in front of us. “I won’t anymore.”
Heaving a sigh, I locked the steering column and rolled out of the seat, doing my best to tiptoe to the far end without waking Luna with the loudly creaking boards. Close to her sleeping form was my saddlebag, which I crept towards and silently sifted through. I withdrew a glass jar full of mead, and tiptoed back to the front deck.
The jar opened with a popping sound, and I chugged a heavy amount back and offered the jar to Willow, who stared dumbly at it for a while before finally taking it and drawing back a heavy swig herself.
“That’s the spirit!” I grinned. “Probably not a thing they really endorse with you guards, huh?”
She said nothing, and passed the jar back to me, still making a conscious effort to avoid my gaze.
“Did you lie about what you said?” she asked. “About knowing me from Cyclosa?”
“No, actually. Quite convenient,” I replied. “You seriously don’t remember at all?”
“I remember bits and pieces. But never for long.”
“Huh. Well, you were thoroughly average,” I assured. “So why help me then, if you don’t know anything beyond Discord’s rule or whatever?”
Silence.
“The hell is this?” I grumbled irritably. “Twenty questions? Do you talk at all?”
“You’re not exactly an easy mare to spill secrets to,” she replied sharply. “Your own little sister is terrified of you.”
My breath caught in my throat. I had half a mind to leap at her and start throwing punches like a madmare, but instead I kept those thoughts back.
A backwards glance showed me that Luna was still asleep, curled in a ball and using my saddlebag as a pillow. I was thankful, for I did not want her to overhear what I was going to say next.
“Don’t pretend you know anything about my sister,” I said, my calm tone not betraying the firmness of my words. “And if you value leaving my company with all of your teeth in line, don’t say something like that to me again.”
“Duly noted.”
I was hardly satisfied with her response.
“I regret helping you,” I spoke as if she hadn’t. “The only reason I did at all is because of my little sister.”
“I heard you the first time, alicorn,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
“That’s another thing. Stop calling me that.”
“Why? It’s what you are.”
“Yeah, but you say it like it’s an insult,” I had to make a conscious effort to keep my voice restrained and not wake Luna. “Sorry I was born wrong.”
“See, the thing is, alicorn, you aren’t sorry.”
“Oh, and I should be?”
“Yes, you should be! If you would’ve come clean, I bet you they really would’ve just chopped your wings off and sent you back to your lonely little life. But instead you’ve gotta pursue some selfish delusion of importance.”
“I’m fleeing North! How is that a delusion of importance?!”
Willow said nothing for a short while, her icy glare trained straight ahead at the dark skies and snow passing beneath us.
Then, she brought her head into her hooves, as if she were sobbing. Fortunately for me she did not, but the expression of grief was all the same.
“I’m going to die,” she whispered. “Because of you. An ungrateful little brat. What was I thinking?”
“You had a lapse of morality,” I replied coldly. Even if I could have tried, I would have been unable to muster up any sympathy for this mare. “For a moment, anyways.”
She seemed to not hear me. “I’m going to be hung, as an example to the other guards.”
Her voice was rising in pitch as fear took control of it. Regardless, she was most likely correct. I had seen it only once before in Cyclosa; a thief had been hung for the rest of us to see, and learn from the poor mare’s mistakes. For a week she had stayed there, the rope was just low enough that the tips of her hooves could brush against the ground and keep her alive.
She had even addressed me. I had been making my way to the scrapyard in the dead of the early morning darkness, and the marketplace was deserted, but I kept my head low and avoided eye contact as I ignored her gurgling pleas.
I shuddered at the thought. Then, with a sideways glance at Willow, I realized that her fate would be much worst.
I couldn’t bring myself to believe that even she deserved it. An animalistic mind doesn’t always see a lot of merit in karmic justice. With a heavy sigh, I turned my gaze from the glowing control panel and directed it at Willow Whisper.
“You might be overreacting just a bit,” I said. “Cut your mane and tail, lay low, and you’ll be fine. Luna and I are the focus of Discord’s guard, not you.”
“What do you care happens to me?!” she exploded. I heard Luna stir, and I chanted a silent prayer in my mind for her not to wake.
“I care because I don’t like seeing ponies die,” I spoke calmly. “I’m not a monster. But do you know who does like seeing ponies die? Y’know who does it for fun?”
“You’re insane,” she breathed. “Aren’t you afraid of him? Afraid he’s… listening?”
I brought a hoof to the bridge of my broken nose. I’d heard the stories before; that Discord heard ponies when they spoke blasphemy against him, and punished them accordingly.
It made enough sense for me to consider them true.
“Yes, I’m afraid,” I admitted. “But I’d rather be myself and afraid than twist myself into somepony that I don’t want to be.”
It was a lie on my part, of course. The truth was, I simply found satisfaction in deliberately opposing the powers that were in any subtle way I could, without having any logical reason for doing so.
Willow didn’t have a response, but that was alright, for I had another question anyways.
“This thing on my horn,” I clawed violently at the cold metallic ring still clinging onto it with vicious intensity. “The hell is it?”
“It’s a magic suppressor.”
“Well, can you take it off?” I shot. “It hurts, and I’d like for my magic not to be suppressed.”
“I can’t,” Willow shook her head. “Honestly though, I’d personally feel a lot safer if you kept it on anyways.”
She couldn’t. It reeked of a lie to me, and I was quick to point it out with a narrowed glare.
“You’re not working for Discord anymore!” I protested. “Stop acting like you are. I’m saving your skin from the… the consequences of your own damn morality. Can you not help me out a little?”
“I can’t help you,” she repeated. “My partner activated it, only his magic can deactivate it. I’m no expert sorcerer anyways.”
For one reason or another, I decided to grant her the benefit of the doubt and drop the request. It would be something I could figure out later, anyways.
“Whatever,” I sighed, and then another part of her statement resonated in my mind. “Actually, that reminds me. You’re part of the guard, they must share a little more information with you, right?”
“What, you’re interrogating me now?”
“For crying out loud, I’m just trying to pass the time!” I motioned wildly at the featureless black plains before us, and then took another violent swig of the mead.
“Fine,” she sighed. “What do you want to know?”
“I want to know about a unicorn stallion named Sombra. Do you know him?”
“Nope.”
“Alright, figures. How about the Crystal Ponies?”
Willow tensed. “Yeah, I’ve heard of them. Should’ve figured you’d want to know about them.”
“Why?”
Willow blinked in confusion. “I’d think of all the ponies in Erisia, the alicorn extremist would know about the Crystal Ponies.”
“Well, I don’t,” I rolled my eyes. “Can you just tell me?”
“They’re… extremists like you, really. Wanna usurp Discord. But they’re a lot more proactive about it. They are expert sorcerers. Ponies say they can even move the sun a little.”
“Well, seems like that’d be a necessity if they really do plan on killing him,” I replied.
“They’re insane if they think they can,” Willow yanked the mead out of my hooves and took a swig herself.
“That we can agree on,” I couldn’t help but crack a smile as she downed a good quarter of the jar in one swoop.
“So you really are running off to the North then?”
“Yeah. And no, you can’t come with us.”
“I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a rusty nail.”
“Good. Least we’re mutual there. Then we’ll part ways at the next town.”
“You’re… honestly letting me go that easily?” Willow asked, her voice somewhere between confused and—oddly enough—grateful.
“‘Letting you go?’” I blinked. “Letting you go from what? I’m no saint, but I’m not going to hurt somepony for no reason. And you decided not to do the same to me. We’re even. Besides, my sister would probably kill me. You saw how she reacted to that Scoutship going down.”
“Yeah. Hard to believe you two are sisters. You couldn’t be any more different.”
For some odd reason, her remark caught me off guard. Did we truly? Nopony had ever said it so directly before. Were we some freakish polar opposites?
It wasn’t a thought I’d ever considered, or perhaps it was a thought I’d never allowed myself to consider. I loved Luna, and I knew she loved me back. And we respected each other…
I found myself turning that thought over. Yes… we carried respect for each other, even if I did not often express it with my snappy and impatient tone. But Luna’s innocence, her kindness… surely that was not something I merely scoffed at and ignored.
The thought seemed like a self-defensive lie. When did I ever value Luna’s innocence? When did I ever meet it with anything but hostility?
And my own behavior? When did Luna ever meet it with anything but fear?
Respect was not synonymous with fear. And I was beginning to have trouble telling myself Luna carried the former more than the latter.
“Your own little sister is terrified of you,” Willow Whisper had said. I had responded with blatant hostility.
But not because it was a lie.
Rather, because it was the truth.
And I hated myself for it.
iii
When Luna awoke and stumbled her way back to the bow of the ship, Willow moved to abandon her seat and offer it to Luna. I shook my head and scooted a little to the end of my chair, and Luna reluctantly sat next to me on the edge of the chair.
She stared at Willow for some time, and then with evident fear asked:
“Are you a guard?”
“Uhh… not anymore,” Willow replied, shuffling in her armour awkwardly “Your sister managed to dupe me into helping her.”
“Celestia?” Luna looked at me for confirmation with wide eyes, sounding as though she figured Willow’s story was too farfetched to be true and yet was hoping it was all the same.
“She’s right,” I said, staring straight ahead at the landscape ahead. “Willow Whisper, meet my little sister Luna.”
Luna was beaming in a moment. Evidently, she was attributing a little too much morality to the risky action I’d taken just to stop my head from being taken off my shoulders by the very mare now scratching her mane nervously right beside me.
“Hello!” Luna greeted, all her fear gone, replaced by blind trust of the mare decked out in Erisian guard armour.
“Yeah, hello, kid,” Willow, like me, chose to stare straight ahead instead of meeting Luna’s joyous expression.
She said nothing further, not that there was a whole lot else to say. I took the opportunity to talk to Luna instead.
“How is your horn?” I asked, pointing at the stubby thing on her forehead, now evidently clear even from afar. She was as clearly an alicorn now as I was.
“Still hurts,” Luna confessed, sounding a little impatient. It was a question I asked her often. “Only sometimes though. It’s fine right now.”
“That’s good,” I attempted a smile. “We’ll get you practicing with levitation soon.”
She nodded and smiled back, even if she knew very well how average I was at magic. I was hardly in any place to be teaching her.
“Thank you, Celestia,” Luna gave my shoulder a little nuzzle with her snout. She didn’t have to elaborate; it was clear to me what deed it was that she was thankful for.
Our escape in the Sisyphys had been an impressive feat in itself, made even more impressive by the fact that I'd managed to do so while helping another pony in the process. Some inkling feeling within me knew that it was not the former that Luna was thanking me for.
“Celestia?” Willow spoke abruptly. I rose an eyebrow at the use of my name, without any utterance of ‘alicorn’ to identify me as some sub-equine freak.
Perhaps Luna was not the only one who was thankful after all.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I was so… sharp with you,” she said with evident effort, looking from me to Luna. I could only imagine what was running through her mind—what visions of an alternate reality were playing out had her decision to help been different. Perhaps visions of my little sister freezing alone in the snow in Cluster 13, or perhaps marching us at swordpoint to Discord’s throne and watching passively as the draconequus turned us both to ash with a snap of his claws.
Willow closed her eyes and sighed. “You’re not a bad mare. I’m… content with my decision to help you.”
Luna concealed a smile with a hoof, and I continued staring ahead without turning. I said nothing in response.
Instead, I gave the maritime compass a hard tap with my hoof. The thing had started spinning in wayward directions, and upon being hit it corrected itself:
North.
The snow swirled onwards through Discord’s eternal night and the Sisyphys carried on her skyward crawl as a lonely pinprick of warm lantern light hovering through the air like a ghost.