//------------------------------// // Chapter 16: The Breaking of the Resistance, Part 2 // Story: Sun & Moon Act I: Ascending Star // by cursedchords //------------------------------// “History is like a polished ice-diamond, holding a record of millenia. Just like the jewel, the chronicle will show itself differently depending on the perspective from which it is examined, and just like the gem’s hidden core of ice, history often hides its nasty imperfections, only revealing them to the dedicated seekers of truth.” - Twilight Sparkle, Foreword to A Complete History of Equestria When the Sun peeked back over the eastern edge of the forest, Celestia was up to greet it, though this time she wasn’t very happy about it. She would have much preferred to once again have been woken from a peaceful slumber by its gentle light, but tonight it had been impossible for her to find that peace. Thoughts of her sister refused to leave her. It didn’t matter that Luna was still wrong, that going off on her own had been a stupid, rash thing to do. It didn’t matter that Celestia was on the right side of the argument; Luna had still gone off and thrown herself in harm’s way. And Celestia was worried for her. Celestia looked northeast out of the window, imagining Eridian far off over the horizon. Luna wouldn’t have wasted any time, heading straight for the upper city. If she had been successful at her task, Celestia had a feeling that all of Equestria would have known by now. But if she had failed… Celestia didn’t want to think about that possibility. There was a gentle knock at the door behind her, and Celestia pulled it open with her magic to reveal Atlas, once again dressed in his formalities, an uneasy smile on his face, though it looked like he too had had a hard time finding sleep. “Good morning, Celestia,” he said, then held up a hoof to stifle a yawn. “Good morning, Atlas,” she returned, not moving from the window. Atlas stepped over the threshold. “Sorry to come so early, but we have another long day of deliberation ahead. Today we must decide how we will choose which of you and Luna will be the third Triumvir.” He ran his eyes over the room. “Where is Luna?” Celestia sighed, and cast another look out the window. “She’s gone,” she said. “Gone? Gone where?” “Gone to Eridian, I expect. Gone to see to the matter herself. And I don’t think that she’ll be coming back.” She turned back to Atlas, offering up a small smile that she hoped was consoling. The expression on Atlas’s face was very difficult to read. “That’s… That’s a shame,” he said, his eyes finding the floor. There was an awkward silence between them for a few seconds, as Atlas seemed lost in thought, and Celestia fidgeted nervously by the window, wondering what she should say next. She knew that Atlas and Luna had been close, and guessed that he was probably thinking just the same thoughts that she was. Eventually, though, Atlas managed to find his voice. “We should inform Aqua and Terraria of this development,” he said, and turned toward the door. “Come with me.” Celestia joined Atlas in the hallway, and the two of them began the descent through Unicorn Tower. Again, the two of them walked quietly for some time, their hoofsteps echoing airily in the tower’s lofty halls. Celestia kept looking around through the place, desperate for something to capture her attention so that she could stop thinking about the circumstance that was holding both of them silent, like a dark blob of matter floating between them that neither one dared acknowledge. Finally, as they were crossing the walkway into the central tower, Atlas attempted a small smile. “I know that it’s difficult,” he said, “but we should look at this as a happy moment. We’ll be following after Luna soon enough, now that there is no question that you should be the third Triumvir. With any luck, we might still find her out there somewhere.” Celestia gave him a questioning look, and surprisingly there was no doubt on his face. The doors to the central chamber loomed ahead, and the muffled sounds of deliberation once more reached Celestia’s ears from behind them. “Do you really think that?” she asked him. Atlas drew to a stop just in front of the doors, and as he grasped the handle he turned and gave her another simple smile. There was a cheery twinkle in his eyes, like there had been on the night when they had first met, just over a year ago. “Both of us know Luna very well,” he said. “If there is any way for her to succeed, I know that she would find it.” And he pulled gently on the door handle, letting the light of the chamber spill out into the hall. Celestia once again looked out at the assembly of ponies, and wished with all of her might that Atlas was right. “Ah, it is time for our deliberations to once again begin!” Terraria was seated upon her throne at the end of the room, an ornate goblet of orange juice perched on the armrest. It looked as though she was just finishing up her breakfast. Immediately to her right, a small plinth had been erected, and upon it sat a gold circlet, just like the ones that Atlas and Aqua wore, except that this one bore a shard of ruby, the gem of the earth ponies. “Atlas, where is the younger one, Luna?” As the two of them ascended the room’s central platform, Atlas offered the Master of Earth a deep bow. “Luna has gone, Master,” he said, while still bowed. “Celestia told me that she left during the night, with no intention of returning.” Terraria’s eyebrows rose, and she turned her attention to Celestia, standing in the room’s centre. “Is this true?” Celestia nodded. A ripple of whispers seemed to spread through the room, echoing off of the walls before returning to the centre, and ceasing when Terraria silenced it. “It seems then that we must consider her candidacy void.” She smiled down at Celestia. “Destiny has apparently made our choice for us, as it should. Today, we shall have the celebration that we deserved yesterday.” “I had the Circlet brought out today to remind us of the weight of our duty,” Terraria stated, rising to her hooves in a rustle of cloth, and indicating the plinth with a flourish. “I wasn’t sure if we would be able to have the coronation today though.” She picked up the circlet, holding it up over the room, so that its ruby could drink in the light of the room’s torches, twinkling brilliantly in her hooves. “Celestia,” she said, looking once more down at the white alicorn in the centre of the room, “please step forward.” Slowly, Celestia took her steps toward the dais. The room had gone silent, each pony waiting in reverence for the circlet to drop. She cast a quick glance at each of the two Masters beside her, and saw that Aqua’s face was hard, though perhaps her eyes held just a sparkle of pride. Atlas, for his part, was smiling at her, but something in his eyes told Celestia that his mind was still on Luna. “The Order of Earth bestows upon you, Celestia,” Terraria said as she arrived just beneath the throne, “the rights and responsibilities of a Triumvir of Equestria, to lead all ponies through times of plenty and times of despair. To defend them from those who would seek to subjugate them, and to safeguard them from all miscreants, criminals, and villains that would upset the beauty and purity of Equestria. Do you accept these duties?” Celestia tried her best to summon her pride as she solemnly said, “I do.” This was the moment, after all, that she had strived for, that she had dreamed of for months. Finally she would have the power to remake Equestria according to her vision, to lift ponies up out of Discord’s darkness. This moment should have been magical, but it was all wrong. The magical moment had been two nights ago, when she and Luna had together banished Discord’s hold on the Sun. This was her sister’s victory as much as it was hers, and it was wrong for her to be here taking all of the credit, while Luna was out there fighting for what she believed in. For what was right. So even as Terraria gently laid the circlet upon her head, and the room around her erupted in a chorus of cheers, Celestia did not smile. Terraria, though, immediately jumped back on the dais, and shouted out to the crowd in a joyous voice. “See now, my brothers and sisters: our long years of waiting are over! The Prophecy stands ready for its fulfillment, and so now we must prepare for our glorious march to victory. We depart for Eridian at noon today, with the Triumvirs at the head of our column! Spread this news as far as you can!” With a further wave of her fore-hooves, she sent the crowd in the benches off toward the room’s exits, each of them excitedly discussing their own preparations for this momentous occasion. Very soon, Celestia and the three Masters stood together alone. “The same goes for us, my heroes,” Terraria said, motioning to the three of them. “So long we have waited for this day, so the three of you ought to think of how you will go about accomplishing your heroic task.” She looked down pointedly at Celestia, who was still sombrely gazing at the floor, lost in thought. “But first, I see that something troubles you, Celestia.” Celestia looked up. Once again, she had a feeling that Atlas knew just what she was thinking, and wondered if she should bring it up. Terraria hadn’t seemed too concerned for Luna when she had heard what had happened. Still, the old Master knew that something was on her mind, so she wouldn’t be able to get away with saying nothing. “It’s Luna,” she said, hesitating, hoping to see some inkling of understanding on the old earth pony’s face. “She helped me so much to get here, and all throughout our childhood. It just doesn’t feel right that I should wear this crown, while she will get nothing.” Terraria nodded, and for a second Celestia thought that the old Master understood. She sat down once again on her throne, and said, “Truthfully, there are many ponies that have worked towards this day, and all deserve some credit. But remember that Luna chose her path. A test was placed before both of you, and Luna chose instead to run after a fool’s errand. That is why this is your victory.” Celestia felt her face grow warm as she heard the words. She hadn’t expected consoling, but Terraria had no right to be so dismissive. “Luna didn’t run away!” she cried. “She chose the dangerous path, to go alone and risk her life for all of the ponies out there! I wish that I could have been so brave.” Celestia looked quickly about between the three Masters, hoping to see some agreement from them. But Aqua once again stood in stony silence, and Atlas’s face too was blank, seemingly uncertain. On her throne, Terraria screwed her lips into a frown. “Remember your place, Celestia. You are a Triumvir of Equestria, a hero of the Resistance. A great responsibility has been laid upon your shoulders, a responsibility that destiny decided your sister was not ready for.” She took a sip from her orange juice. “History will forget about Luna, so you should too. There are more important matters to consider.” “That… that’s ridiculous!” Celestia could barely think of words to say. “Luna is my sister, I can’t just forget about her! She might be in danger out there, and I’m just supposed to not care?” She took an angry step towards the throne, but then she felt a sharp tug at her shoulder. Atlas was holding her back with an outstretched wing. The expression on his face was pained. “Come on,” he said in an undertone, so that Terraria couldn’t hear. “You won’t get anywhere. We should get ready to go.” Celestia threw another glare at Terraria, who was finishing off the last of her breakfast. Atlas was right. This wasn’t the fight that she should be caring about. But as she left the room in silence, Celestia couldn’t help but think that Luna had been right. The rest of that day passed in silent thought for Celestia. Over the course of the morning, the Citadel was emptied, and soon enough the three Triumvirs had found themselves at the head of an impressive company. Terraria and the ponies of her Order were dressed in shimmering, colourful robes, decorated with the insignias of Equestria’s past. Celestia too had been given ceremonial clothing to match Aqua and Atlas, and though the Triumvir’s Circlet upon her head was comfortingly light, Celestia felt no honour in wearing it. Then, through the afternoon they had marched, on into the forest, and eventually into the wide plains of Equestria’s south. The journey had passed in solemn silence, broken only by the merry chirps of birds in the boughs of the forest. The company had come to a halt that evening, at the foot of the great hills that rose up to the base of the tall mountain upon which Eridian sat. They had made camp here, a collection of brightly coloured tents that stood out starkly in the dead countryside. Now, Celestia stood looking up at the great city once again. Luna, she knew, would already be up there. Whether she was lying low, or in the thick of a fight, Celestia couldn’t tell. But she guessed that it was probably the latter. Of course, now that Eridian was so close, her sister was no longer the only thing on Celestia’s mind. Tomorrow, they would continue their march, right up to the top of the city, where Discord waited. He would surely be expecting them, since Terraria was not making any effort to be stealthy. And then what? The three of them would have to face him. Celestia shook her head despondently. Whatever Terraria’s prophecy said, she just didn’t see it. Aqua and Atlas were powerful, and so was she, but they were lacking a distinct advantage. She thought back to three nights ago. If Luna had been by her side, Celestia knew that she wouldn’t be nervous about it at all. Atlas’s head appeared around the far edge of her tent. He hadn’t smiled all day, and now was no different. Celestia assumed that he too was nervous, having prepared so long for this. “Have time for a few words?” he asked, and gestured to the open tent flap. Celestia nodded, and followed him inside. Aqua, who had been behind her fellow Master, quickly joined them. “I know that you’re worried about Luna,” Atlas said as soon as they were seated, speaking far more quickly than normal. “So am I. I should have known that something like this was going to happen. I should have done something, I should have said something, I should have—” “Atlas!” Aqua interrupted him. “Get ahold of yourself.” She looked apologetically over at Celestia. “What he wanted to say is that we haven’t been entirely honest with you. This situation with Luna is… well, it’s nothing new, unfortunately.” Celestia was surprised, but it did not take long for her to acclimatize to the new information. “You’ve had candidates leave before?” Atlas nodded forlornly. “Once,” he said. “And this morning, you said what I should have said then. What I should have said ages ago. If I had had the courage to do that, then maybe I wouldn’t have lost a friend.” Celestia saw the connection immediately. “Seraph.” Aqua nodded. “As I said, a year ago we told you what happened to the original fourth Master. Now, we believe it’s time for you to finally hear the truth.” Twenty Years Ago Citadel of Everfree Atlas was glad to see Everfree’s prominent profile jutting through the forest canopy ahead. It had been a long night, stealthily stealing into Upper Eridian, penetrating the deep vaults underneath the city, and finally finding the heart of the old Tower of the Triumvirs. A gentle drizzle was pattering the leaves overhead as they trekked through the forest, but the night was still crisp and peaceful, echoing the contentment that filled his heart. In the end, once the dust had settled, they had found the central chamber of the tower surprisingly intact. Their trophies were now tucked into Seraph’s saddlebags: two circlets of gold, one bearing a glittering sapphire, the other a brilliant diamond. They had searched high and low for the ruby of the earth ponies in the ruins, but whether it had been destroyed in the explosion, or was already long gone, they would never know. Still, two out of three wasn’t bad. Seraph certainly seemed to think so. His step had been light and free the whole way back, even though in the end he hadn’t had a chance to test out his sword. As the three of them arrived at the Citadel’s huge doors, the young orange earth pony stopped them with a raised hoof. “Well, tonight went great,” he said with a smile. “Certainly enough to silence the doubters, I think.” Atlas had to agree. “We’ve reached deep into Eridian, nearly to the King’s heart. I don’t think that anypony can question our ability to do the job now.” He looked expectantly over to Aqua, who was predictably more circumspect. “The ultimate decision rests with Terraria, you both know.” “Well, what can she say to this?” Seraph chuckled. “We’ve proven, beyond any doubt, that we’ve got what it takes to do the job. She would have to be crazy to deny us now.” He took hold of the door handle and pushed it open with a shove. As soon as Atlas followed Seraph inside, he found the halls engulfed in a hushed quiet. The other ponies stepped aside respectfully as they passed, some even offering small bows. He heard whispers following them through the corridors. The three heroes had returned, and had retrieved their prize. Up ahead, a green-robed page quickly pulled open the door to the meeting chamber. Terraria was sitting high on her throne in the cavernous space, though she was not alone, the benches behind and around her filled with other ranking members of the Resistance, all eagerly awaiting the results of their mission. The old Master glanced up expectantly as soon as the door opened, and as the group approached her throne, Atlas held his head up proudly. This wouldn’t be the first time that they would ask Terraria to decide their fate. For years they had worked for this night, the culmination of their training and their practice, and many times already she had deferred judgement, insisting that they prove themselves once more. But this time, Atlas was sure. They were ready. Once they stood together in the centre of the room, Aqua stepped forward to offer a debriefing. “Tonight, the three of us ventured into Eridian, seeking the Triumvirs’ Circlets of the old country,” she said, her voice quick and direct. “We encountered little resistance as we made our way through the city, and eventually penetrated the depths of the mountain, all in absolute secrecy.” She motioned to Seraph, who carefully drew out the circlets and lay them at the old Master’s hooves. “Underneath Eridian we found these, the Circlets of the Unicorns and the Pegasi. Regrettably, it would appear that the Circlet of the Earth Ponies has been lost to time.” Aqua paused a moment, and Atlas saw a moment of emotion pass over her features of stone. The unicorn might always try to act the consummate professional, but Atlas knew that she wanted this victory as much as they all did. “The mission was a success,” Aqua continued again, back to a voice of steel. “Once more, we submit to the Order of Earth the question: in accordance with the ways of old and the Prophecy that is yours to keep, are we to be the next Triumvirs of Equestria?” There was a moment of silence, except for the pounding of rain on the roof of the Citadel high overhead. Once again, it was time for Terraria to deliver her judgement. “It is an impressive feat, surely, to have penetrated so close to Discord’s seat, and to come back unharmed,” she mused, turning in her seat to look at the frescoes that adorned the room’s walls. “In recent months, it seems that the three of you have performed many such feats. It is an encouraging sign.” Atlas felt his pulse rising as he listened. As he should have expected, Terraria was taking a while to get to the point, but her words sounded good. “Never did I think that Chaos’ End would come during my time,” Terraria continued, now running her eyes evenly over each of the three ponies. “But in you I can now see great power, enough perhaps to bring about that end. Indeed, after such a success, it would seem to me that the three of you have what it takes within you to take the mantle of the Triumvirate.” Atlas’s heart leaped as he heard it. He heard Seraph draw in a quick breath as well, and had to resist an urge to hug his friend in celebration. But Terraria was not yet finished. “However,” she said sharply, quieting the whispering of the crowd, “this decision is not solely up to me. In this, as in all things, I must consult with the wisdom of Skullhum the Far Seer, as it guides all the actions of the Resistance. And with that, the presence of only two of the Circlets poses a puzzle. Surely, it is a sign that is meant to guide us. Two of the Triumvirs are here, but one is not. A unicorn—” her eyes settled on Aqua, “—and a pegasus.” She moved on to Atlas, then settled her gaze onto Seraph. “But no earth pony.” Terraria settled back into her seat, once again letting silence reign in the chamber, except for the moan of gusting winds overhead as the storm broke. It was Seraph who broke the silence. “So what is your decision?” “I have already said it,” Terraria said dismissively. “Aqua and Atlas are confirmed, but you are not. So we must wait until the third reveals themselves. There is no more to say on the matter.” Atlas wasn’t sure how to feel. On the one hoof, he had apparently proven himself worthy, just as he had hoped. Yet somehow it seemed that their ultimate victory had not materialized. “But you said yourself that we were ready,” Seraph implored. “All you have to do is say the word, and we will go to Eridian tonight and unseat the King! Why not do it?” “Because it is not my decision!” Terraria stated. “Were it up to me alone, perhaps this would be enough, but who am I to argue with destiny? You, Seraph, are not fated to be a Triumvir.” “Destiny has nothing to do with this. Your word is what separates us from this task, not the words of the Prophecy, or whatever other idiocy that dragon scratched into his wall! If you want to see Discord’s end, then all you have to do is say it!” “You will watch your tongue when speaking of the Prophecy!” Terraria sat up, and levelled an angry glare that could have wilted a flower at him. “This Order was built on Skullhum’s Prophecy, and I will not turn from it to suit your whims! There shall be no further discussion on this matter.” Atlas could tell that this wasn’t going to go anywhere. He exchanged a glance with Aqua, who gave him a slight nod, a knowing look in her eyes. They both understood what Seraph was feeling, but now that Terraria had put her hoof down, there could be no convincing her otherwise. Atlas placed a hoof gently on his friend’s shoulder. “Come on,” he said calmly. “Let’s go get a drink. It’s been a long night.” But Seraph roughly shook himself free, and turned to Atlas with a look of fire. The pegasus had never seen him this angry before. “No,” he said simply, his voice unnervingly calm. “This has gone on long enough. It’s ending tonight.” Then Seraph turned back to the front of the room, and took a few bold steps up toward the dais. “You know that there is no divine providence protecting the King, don’t you, Terraria? A knife to his heart will end his reign, whether prophesied by you or not.” Seraph stared piercingly into the old earth pony’s face. “Our own laws say that there is no divine right to the Triumvirate. There is only merit. The heroes of the Resistance, they who overthrow the tyrant: they were to lead the country afterwards. This is what you always told us.” “Careful, child. You are speaking words beyond your station,” Terraria said dismissively. “Am I? Wasn’t it me who sat by your side as a foal, listening raptly to your tales of a better Equestria, if only our freedom was won? Wasn’t it me who dedicated myself to my studies, learning intently from you how I ought to bring about your victory? Hasn’t it been me, who has fought these long years for you? I understand exactly what you said, even better than you.” The old Master’s eyes jerked forward. “What you speak is heresy,” she said in a whisper. “I will not warn you again.” “Do you think that I care? I will say my words, then come what may, but I will finish first. The Resistance deserves to know your true nature, Master.” He turned then, and looked out over the faces of all the ponies assembled in the room. A few of them were scowling in disapproval, but there was also a good number of them who looked uncertain, their eyes running back and forth between him and Terraria’s dour glare. “Have I not worked as hard as any of you to bring about the end of our war?” Seraph asked the room, receiving only silence. “And yet that honour has been denied of me, not because I fall short of that yardstick, but indeed, because I surpass it. Terraria has told us that the worthy will become the Prophecy’s chosen heroes, but this is not so. She does not want heroes, only those ponies that she can control.” At that there was an uproar from the benches of the conservatives. “Heresy!” they shouted, shaking their forehooves threateningly at him. Seraph merely smirked coolly back at them, and turned once more to the front of the room, where Terraria still sat, though Atlas could now see uncertainty in her complexion. “You,” Seraph declared, his voice booming out over those that still shouted in protest, “are a false prophet. You are an Oracle of Deception, not seeking peace, but only the kingdom for yourself. You so love your throne here, that you wish to extend it over all the ponies of this land. You will not accept the King to fall, unless you can be sure that you will replace him. Until then, you are happy to continue your reign here, blinding us all with a promise of future peace. But those of us who really believe it, those who really fight for your victory: they are the ponies you cannot control, and they are the heretics. Who are you then, who would play games with the future of a country, who would let thousands suffer for your own gain, who would deny your own son his destiny, just so you can hold on to your power?” Seraph’s last shout echoed through the hall, meeting a stony and uncomfortable silence from all of the ponies on the benches. Atlas had stood rapt through his speech, and his heart had soared as his friend had delivered the damnations, giving voice to the doubts that swirled within his heart. He wanted to step forward, to congratulate the earth pony on his courage, to give his voice in agreement. But he also saw many looks of disapproval from within the crowd. At the front of the room, Terraria pulled herself onto her hooves. “Never before,” she began, looking down at Seraph with an expression of utmost scorn, “has such evil been spoken within the hallowed halls of our forebears. Perhaps I doubted the whims of destiny before, but now there can be no doubt. No son of mine would so openly spit upon the traditions which uphold this Order, nor so heinously disrespect the elders that worked to offer him a chance to fulfill his destiny. Seraph, for these crimes there can be no penance. You are banished from the Resistance, never to again set hoof within the halls of Everfree, nor to share in our coming victory. I offer you only the chance to show yourself out.” Seraph accepted the pronouncement with defiance, holding his head up proudly as turned and began the trek out to the door. Overhead, loud crashes of thunder broke out, and the howling of the wind intensified, seeming to laugh wickedly as it swirled through the arches and railings of the tower high overhead. Atlas recognized that laughter, the chortle that had haunted ponies’ nightmares for the last three hundred years. Chaos was coming to reign again. When Seraph reached the doors, he turned back to face the room, a grim frown still set upon his face. “You often speak of destiny, Mother,” he said, sweeping his eyes back over the room, “so perhaps let me say one thing about it. A hero is not ordained as one prior to his victory, nor is anointed by history long before his time. A hero is a pony who seizes the opportunity to forge his own destiny, to remake the world in his chosen image. I know there are ponies here who see that truth, as surely as I do. I am going to unseat the King, and I invite all of them to join me, now that they know what awaits them if they stay.” And then he looked back at the centre of the chamber, and Atlas felt the pressure of his friend’s gaze. But he could also feel Terraria’s eyes on him, as well as the hard stares of the many other ponies in the room that sided with her. Beside him, Aqua’s gaze was downcast, hopeless. She would not follow her brother, though Atlas suspected that she too knew he was right. She would not also invite her mother’s fury. If he went, he would be alone, and he would be giving up what the Resistance had already granted him, striking out on his own into the wild. So, against the voices in his heart that urged him to go, Atlas closed his eyes and shook his head despondently. When he opened them again, Seraph was still looking at him, though now his friend’s features showed only disappointment. As the guards outside took Seraph by the shoulder and turned him out to the door, Atlas could only stand and look after him, as the Chaos danced overhead, rolling in waves of wind and rain.