//------------------------------// // Subterranean Suicide (V) // Story: Synthetic Bottled Sunlight // by NorrisThePony //------------------------------// i Celestia awoke with a start. The first thing her waking mind chose to focus on was her throat, which felt dry and parched and very much in need of a drink of water she knew was impossible until she reached the surface. If she reached the surface. Her vision was blurred even with her cracked eyeglasses still on her snout, but her throbbing headache was still as clear as day. “Damn it...” she mumbled. “Princess Celestia!” Twilight exclaimed the moment she heard Celestia speak. “You're alright! I was… I thought you were…” Smiling gratefully, Celestia turned her attention to her wounds. They had been bandaged using bits of the parchment, held fast by a strap from Twilight's saddlebag. Considering the nature of the resources, it was a rather well-done makeshift bandage, even if it was only partially successful in stopping the blood from trickling out of her. “How long was I out?” Celestia asked. “Uh… not too long. About fifteen minutes. You were breathing, but I wasn't sure...” Twilight trailed off and sheepishly and shook her head. “But you're alright?” “I believe so. What of the Sunstone?” “I think you got the last of the enchantments around it, but I didn't want to touch the stone itself until you said it was okay.” “Indeed. That was a good call, Twilight. And thank you.” Celestia became aware of a foreign weight around her neck, not her regalia (which Twilight had removed to patch her wounds better) but the enchanted necklace that she had given Twilight when they had first entered the Catacombs. She had already opened her mouth to tell Twilight to take it back, but one glance at her stained red make-shift bandages and she decided she could stave back her stubborn pride if it meant saving her own life. Twilight had given it to her of her own accord, and she would have to stop treating Twilight like a defenseless little filly eventually. “Are you good to keep moving?” Twilight asked. “I believe so. To wait any longer down here would only bring about further injury.” “Right. But we have… a bit of a problem.” Indeed, Twilight was not mistaken. Following the unicorn’s worried gaze, Celestia instantly saw the cause for her justified concern. The dark stairway they had come from was gone, in its place the same stone that made up the walls around them. As before, with the sun and moon emblems in the library, they had been trapped. Forwards was the only way out once again. She’d had the inkling suspicion that they had gotten to the Sunstone too easily. They perhaps had, but getting to the Sunstone was never their goal. For it was quite worthless for their cause if they retrieved the Sunstone only to die on the way to the surface, or become trapped in the Catacombs until hunger and thirst did that job in the enchantment’s place. The Sunstone was still sitting atop its pedestal. Celestia turned from the grim sight before her in its direction. The gemstones filled with the trap magic were still laying next to the pedestal, like glowing green lanterns—Celestia made a mental note to herself to use them for that very purpose when they ventured into further darkness. Not daring to get any closer than several feet from the Sunstone, Celestia examined it pensively for several seconds, taking vital care not to let her mind get too hasty and greedy—the last thing she wished was for her telekinesis to spring up and attempt to grasp it in some mindless moment of hasty action. Instead, she motioned for Twilight to come closer. “Twi, earlier you asked me about my sister. I refused to give you an answer.” “Oh, you don’t have to, Princess! It was stupid of me to even ask.” “No, it was not. You have every right to know.” Celestia sat wearily back down onto the damp and cold carpet, directly in front of the Sunstone. Twilight followed as if in a trance, her expression a sort of cloudy regret that was a relapse of the same regret Celestia had guiltily observed after she had snapped at the poor mare for asking the very question she was now answering. “My sister…” Celestia started, and instantly broke off. Say her name, you gutless peacock. “Luna. My younger sister Luna. She created these tunnels to keep the Sunstone from me.” “I know that,” Twilight spoke in a nervous whisper. “Indeed. Yet, earlier you asked what became of my sister.” Celestia looked to the Sunstone looming before the two of them, sitting before it like it were some sacrificial altar. “To be blunt, my sister… Luna, was murdered.” “What?!” “Murdered,” Celestia repeated. “And deceived. By a creature who called herself Nightmare Moon. My sister had been brought low by jealousy, and hatred. Her mind had been diluted by fear. And it was in this weakened state that she allowed Nightmare Moon to creep close.” “Nightmare Moon…” Twilight repeated. “But… that was only a decade ago.” “No. Nightmare Moon murdered my sister a thousand years ago. She fused herself with Luna’s soul and wore my sister’s flesh like cheap rags. I tried to reason with whatever bit of Luna’s soul still remained, but there was none to be found in the beast. But Luna was smart. As the dark magic split her soul and discarded it, she decided it was necessary for her to preserve a part of her soul in any way she could in case she lost her mind to madness. She split some of her magic and drove it into the Sunstone.” “So wait… Luna is still alive? Like... like a phylactery?” Feeling as though she were about to pass into unconsciousness again, Celestia gritted her teeth and let Twilight’s words reverberate through her for a moment before she could manage to answer. “No.” “But you said—” “I said she split her magic and drove it into the Sunstone. A small fragment of her memories. An echo. Not my sister.” “Is… is Nightmare Moon… still alive?” “No.” Celestia said again. A terrible truth she wished desperately could have been a lie. The creature that haunted her mind was not Nightmare Moon no more than it had ever been Luna. “A thousand years ago, I was forced to use the Elements of Harmony. Nightmare Moon was defeated, but she took my sister with her. Of course, I had not given up hope. I vowed that I would have my sister back no matter the costs, even if I had to wait a thousand years to do so...” Celestia trailed off. The silence stretched long enough for Twilight to cautiously interject. “And?” “And I did,” Celestia said simply. She pointed to her missing eye. “You can see how I was received in turn. A thousand years I waited for my sister with hope, only to have it disintegrated in one night. Any trace of my sister was gone, but the nightmare beast had hardly given up. I could not fight her. Every spell I cast was a defensive one. I’d waited a thousand years, and I was willing to endure a thousand more of pain by the hooves of my sister if it meant having her back.” “That’s… that’s awful,” Twilight sunk her head sympathetically. “I can’t imagine how you would’ve felt.” “Indeed. For all intents and purposes, it was a stalemate. Nightmare Moon could not win through sheer power. I had been ready for a thousand years, but to her it had been seconds since we had last done battle. She could not kill me, and I would not kill her.” “Then... how did you win?” “In a manner of speaking, she did.” Celestia stopped, and motioned to the newly rended gashes in her flesh. “She absorbed her own assaulting magic as I reflected it. I had killed her by defending myself. She split her soul as she had with Luna, and as Luna had the Sunstone, and she drove it into my own.” “She’s trying to kill you from the inside,” Twilight translated, her voice a horrified whisper. “You’re… you’re dying. This tunnel has nothing to do with it!” Celestia nodded sadly, although it was a partial truth. The tunnel might not have been the catalyst, but Luna’s magic hanging overhead was a greater node than her moon’s silver beams had ever been. “In many ways, Nightmare Moon’s victory was greater than she could possibly have achieved through brute strength. Every time I am in the Moon’s silver light, I am reminded of my greatest failure. While the Sun heals my wounds, my own sister’s magic reopens them.” “Then… then what is the Sunstone?” “A cure,” Celestia said, and once more tried to smile. “What can I say? I am a stubborn mare. Yet it is a cure I cannot use. With so much of Luna’s magic driven into it, to even touch it would end my life in a moment.” “Can… can I?” “Indeed,” Celestia rose again, giving her wings a little shake, and then motioning at the Sunstone before them. “Go ahead, Twilight. It is quite safe to touch.” As Twilight warily crept forwards, Celestia withdrew from her saddlebag the golden crown of the faux-Element of Harmony from the museum. Turning it over in her magic for several seconds, she then centered her grasp around the pink sapphire. Luna’s overhanging magic was still a cork in her own magic flow, but nonetheless she managed to wrench out the sapphire from the crown, leaving a little indent in its gold surface. It fell to the carpeted floor, and she crunched it into dust with a hoof. A faint humming sound rung out as Twilight hesitantly grasped the Sunstone with a hoof. Then, much as Celestia had been expecting, nothing further happened. “Huh,” Twilight had been holding the Sunstone like it was a lit stick of dynamite, but as the seconds ticked on and nothing happened, her confidence slowly returned. “So, this is it?” “Indeed. The Sunstone is a humble relic, my dear,” Celestia replied, sensing her disappointment. With the Sunstone in Twilight’s hooves, Celestia took a step closer. “That being said… please understand that if I so much as graze it…” “Right,” Twilight’s caution returned, and she gripped the Sunstone tighter. Still, even despite the graveness in her expression, she was quick to revert to her inquisitive nature as she looked back up at Celestia. “Wait….is that the Element of Magic?”  Celestia blinked, confused momentarily before remembering the crown still floating in her magic. “Ah, this! No, this is the replica from the museum. But here, the Sunstone should fit nicely where the sapphire was.” She shrugged and floated it closer to Twilight. “No harm in a little convenience, right? In my days, I just tied it around some twine and wore it as a necklace, but it seems to me like a crown is more fitting for such an important artifact.” “That’s pretty clever,” Twilight agreed. Placing the Sunstone within the empty enclosure, she then used her magic to bend the gold ring circling it in order to secure it in place. Blushing a little and giving a sheepish grin, Twilight rested the crown upon her head. “It suits you,” Celestia said. “Can you feel its magic?” “N...not really. Should I?” Celestia frowned. “You should feel at least something. Not even a slight tingling?” “Uh… maybe. I’m not really sure, princess.” “Hm, well, perhaps that will change when we are closer to the Sun,” Celestia shrugged. It wasn’t as though she could feel the Sun through a thousand feet of stone, anyways, and considering the Sunstone was more or less a gemstone-version of her gifted horn, it did not seem unreasonable to assume it would suffer the same problem. With a shake of her head, she turned her attention to the room once again. Greeting her critical glare were the same stone walls and red carpet… only the entranceway had changed, and even so Celestia could make out the outlines in the stone where it had been. A heavy slab that neither of them would be able to move or destroy with their magic. Fear was starting to flutter in her stomach, but she dared not telegraph it to Twilight with her actions nor expression. The sun and moon emblems in the library had been solely a matter of advancing swiftly, and the more she stared at where the exit had been, the more she began to fear that it had been the same in this instance—disable the trap magic, grab the Sunstone, and flee before they were trapped. If this was so, then her loss of consciousness had been the nail in the coffin for both of them. Her hoof calmly dragged across the crack where the entrance had been, but her mind was a flurry of growing panic, repeating begging prayers over and over that her prediction was wrong, that there was another way out. “Princess Celestia?” Twilight called out from the other side of the room. “You… might wanna come see this.” The area in question was a portion of the wall directly in front of the Sunstone that Twilight was gazing inquisitively at. It looked virtually identical to the stone wall around it, but nonetheless it appeared to have brought Twilight to a state of amazement and awe. As Twilight brought a hoof forwards, Celestia instantly understood why. Twilight’s hoof passed cleanly through the stone as though it were water, disappearing from sight into the room beyond. “Looks like we have a train to catch,” Twilight joked, and Celestia smiled politely even though she did not understand. “Pretty clever enchantment.” “Indeed. I was worried for a moment we were trapped in here.” Testing the wall with her hoof several more times and gaining confidence with each, Twilight eventually worked up the courage to take a single step forwards into the next room, vanishing as she proceeded. “Woah,” her voice sounded uninterrupted by the stone wall. “Princess… I think I’m starting to feel the Sunstone now.” From Twilight’s tone, it sounded almost as though the unicorn was in pain—a magical migraine at the hooves of the Sunstone, perhaps.  Celestia was on the move in an instant. Yet as she proceeded through the wall herself, her hoof struck stone. “Oh no,” she breathed. She prodded the wall at several different points, meeting the same result; impassable stone that had simply not been there for Twilight was now impeding her way forwards. “Twilight,” Celestia did her best to sound calm. “We have a problem.” Poking her head back out from the other side, Twilight returned into the next room as she saw Celestia staring blankly at the same wall, a hoof resting on the cold stone. Through a section directly beside Celestia’s hoof, Twilight reemerged entirely. Already, her previously triumphant expression was one of terror. With her telekinesis, Celestia removed one of the tapestries from the cold stone walls. She tore the entire thing so that she was only carrying the metal rod. Then, she shot it like a lance at the wall, only for it to bounce off the stone and roll back to her hooves. “It is as I suspected,” she muttered. Her head fell. “Anything not carrying the Sunstone cannot pass. No matter how many ponies come down here to retrieve the Sunstone, only one can ever surface again.” “O… okay,” Twilight was breathing heavily, evidently trying her best to keep her mind focused on a solution instead of the connotations arising from the lack of one. She removed the Sunstone from atop her head, and rested it on her side. Then, she brought a hoof to the wall, only to violently draw it back as it struck cold stone, as though she had been given an electric shock. Contrary to what both mares had been hoping, it appeared as though Twilight had just proven Celestia’s theory correct. Still, Twilight offered solutions in between bouts of hyperventilation. “So… so I’ll go to the other side, then I’ll toss the Sunstone through the wall… and you can…” She trailed off as Celestia shook her head. “I cannot touch the Sunstone, remember?” Twilight’s breath caught. She looked as though she were about to faint herself. “Besides, I imagine that if you attempt to throw the Sunstone, it will simply strike the wall,” Celestia added. “Without somepony using it, it is a mere gemstone.” “Well then what do we do?” Twilight exclaimed frustratedly, slinking to her hooves. They sat in silent defeat for several seconds, before her ears perked up suddenly and her eyes lit up. “Wait! Teleportation magic!” Celestia frowned. Her reply was grim and unsure. “I have my doubts such a flaw would not be corrected. And I feel the need to point out that if it does not work, the results may be… ah, fatal.” “Wait, what? What do you mean?” “I mean, if there are enchantments in place to prevent me from teleporting through the wall, you may have to make your way back to the surface with… ahem, half of a princess.” It took Twilight a moment before Celestia’s explanation clicked, but when it did she wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Goddesses above. Well then that’s off the table, too. I’m not taking that risk.” “I’m afraid the only alternative I can see is to leave me behind. I will find a way to return back the way we came.” It was hardly an encouraging thought, and Celestia hardly believed herself that it could be done. Instead, she spoke it as a pathetic lie, hoping it would be enough to convince Twilight to carry forwards. Never for a moment did she expect it to work. “Wait, so the Sunstone fuses with my magic to let me through, right?” Twilight reasoned. “So what about telekinesis?” She did not actually wait for an answer, instead rising to her hooves once again. The Sunstone crown was returned to her head, and she grasped the metal tapestry pole in her telekinesis. Then, she floated it at the wall as Celestia had, keeping it in her magic the whole while, letting go only when it had vanished on the other side. It clanged as it struck some hard floor, but neither mares saw it from the Sunstone chamber. Twilight turned wearing a triumphant smile. Celestia was quick to share it—the glowing victory on the mare’s face was nothing if not contagious, although uncertainty prevented it from growing to much more than a neutral grin. “It is a good idea, Twilight, but again, with your magic bound with the Sunstone...” Celestia trailed off for a moment, letting the premise state itself. Twilight cursed bitterly and stomped a hoof. “Why would they do this?!” “Who, my dear?” “The… the ponies who designed this chamber! What kind of cruel idea is that? Only one pony passes! It’s basically murder! And for what reason?” “Twilight, with respect, the pony who ‘did this’ was my sister. And it was done to prevent some group of ponies who are undeserving of the Sunstone from taking it. This ensures that those who do are willing to make a great sacrifice.” “I… I suppose,” Twilight sighed. Both mares fell silent, Celestia in thought, Twilight in defeat. Or so Celestia had figured, for once more, one of Twilight’s ears perked up, as some realization or idea hit her with as much force as the ground to a flightless pegasus. Nonetheless, she reduced her excitement to a nervous stutter when she next spoke. “Princess… I have an idea… but I need to ask you something personal before I say what it is.” “Of course.” “It’s about your sister.” Celestia frowned. “I understand.” “She… she wielded the Elements of Harmony, right?” “Yes. We both did.” “And… she understood what they meant, right?” “Of course. One cannot wield the Elements if they do not intend to adhere to their teachings.” “Alright. Thank you.” “Your idea, Twilight?” Instead of answering, Twilight took a step towards the wall. Her horn lit, and the Sunstone crown was lifted off of her head. Twilight took a deep breath, and Celestia took a wary and confused step forwards. The Sunstone hovered in Twilight’s magic directly in front of her, the unicorn evidently experiencing second thoughts regarding her “idea.” But nonetheless, with another deep breath, she straightened her hooves and let the Sunstone float forwards. Her heart was suddenly racing, and she had half a mind to scream at Twilight, asking if she was insane, yet some alien force kept her hooves locked and her mind calm, even as the Sunstone floated through the enchanted wall in the same fashion as the tapestry rod. Then, Twilight let her magic die out. On the other side, the sound of the Sunstone clattering against the floor rung out. “Twilight!” Celestia screamed. She darted forwards, but it was too late. Or so she assumed. For when she moved to grab Twilight and ask her just what she had been thinking, the unicorn rose a hoof to the wall, only for it to pass cleanly through. “W...what?” Celestia sputtered. Without hesitation, she brought her own hoof to the wall. It may as well not have been there, for like a ghost it too continued on uninterrupted. She was silent as she followed Twilight through the wall. They emerged into a long, claustrophobic tunnel with a considerably low ceiling, forcing Celestia to duck slightly as she proceeded. To her knowledge, the tunnel was almost entirely stone, and as a result it was almost frozen to the touch. Yet despite the grey surface, the occasional pulse of purple, arcane light glowed from the walls, visible proof of the dozens of enchantments lining the centuries old tunnel. “Okay, Twilight,” Celestia said. The tunnel was too narrow for her to trot ahead and stop Twilight herself with outstretched wings, but her voice accomplished the same task. “Can you please explain your idea now?” “I thought about what you said about ponies deserving to take the Sunstone… and Luna understanding the teachings of the Elements. Then I realized… it was a test.” “A test,” Celestia repeated. “Yeah. Remember when I said I could feel the Sunstone when I came in here? Well, it hurt bad. Like I was about to faint or something. That was my first clue that we were doing something wrong. Then, when you said your sister created this, I realized she wouldn’t create a trap that would kill so many potentially innocent ponies and let some potentially merciless one go free.” A bittersweet smile tugged at Celestia’s lips as realization caught up with her, too, but she remained silent through Twilight’s explanation. “So, instead, she created a trap where the only way through is if the ponies understand what the virtues of the Elements are. A pony trying to take the Sunstone for themselves and leaving their friends to die wouldn’t make it to the end of this tunnel. That’s why the Sunstone was hurting me so much. It was a warning, any further and I’d be forced to turn back anyways. By contrast, a pony who puts their friends above their own safety by refusing to leave them to die…” “Oh, Luna,” Celestia sighed. “Very clever. And placing the Sunstone through the wall represents a pony willing to put the fate of Equestria over their own. I imagine that this tunnel carries on uninterrupted to the surface, so that somepony could retrieve the Sunstone, whether it be from the ground, or the hooves of whatever greedy soul tried to flee with it.” “Did your sister by chance wield the Element of Loyalty?” Twilight ventured. Celestia smiled sadly. It seemed the flicker of fleeing melancholy had been enough of an answer, for Twilight turned without speaking and took her first hoofsteps forwards. ii The tunnel stretched on, plain and featureless save for the occasional pulses from the runes inscribed into the stone walls. At first, it seemed as though it was simply a road to nowhere, yet another treacherous trap to bar them from reaching the surface, but after careful consideration, Twilight noted that the tunnel was actually proceeding onwards at a subtle incline, slowly but surely bringing them closer to the surface after all. Neither mare spoke, but the tunnels were hardly silent as they trekked on. Behind her Twilight could hear Princess Celestia breathing heavily, sounding laboured and pained once again. And yet despite the chastising remarks swirling in her brain, Twilight could not work up the courage to ask Celestia if she was alright. She already knew what Celestia's response would be, anyways; I'm quite alright, my dear, thank you. Please stop worrying about me. But thank you. We are almost at the surface. I will make it. The latter Twilight desperately wished to be true, but at the subtle incline they were ascending at, she knew it would take some time. At one point her horn's light shone back at her as it reflected off of some stone surface ahead, but her excitement was pre-emptive—when they arrived the path simply twisted at two ninety-degree angles and continued on ascending at the same incline in the opposite direction. Celestia cursed bitterly when this happened. It took Twilight a moment to come to terms with the fact that the word had been in Celestia's lexicon to begin with, although the abruptness of the remark gave Twilight enough courage to finally pose the question circling in her mind. “Princess… are you okay?” “Yes, Twilight. Thank you, but please stop worrying about me.” She could do little else but nod and fall back into silence, somewhat increasing the intensity of her hoofsteps, guiltily wishing the echo would be enough to drown out Celestia's pained breathing. Quickly realizing how selfish she was being, Twilight decided she would force a conversation no matter how awkward it seemed. Surely Celestia would appreciate any diversion from her own pain-filled thoughts. “Princess…?” Silence. “Princess Celestia?” “Yes, Cadance?” Twilight blinked. Celestia had sounded unsure when she had spoken, but the name she had used had been unmistakable. She stopped in her tracks and turned around. Celestia's normally clouded eye had glazed over completely, so that it was almost entirely a milk white. The other eyelid was open, too, although there was nothing but a grotesque void, and Twilight was quite sure the princess should not have had working muscles to open it to begin with. At first glance, she looked dead. Her expression was one of pain and confusion, and it was then that Twilight realized—the tunnel's enchantments were not content only causing her physical distress, not when the shattered princess' mind was just as vulnerable. And if what Celestia had told her was true, then some part of Nightmare Moon was in there, with her. “It's me, Princess,” Twilight whispered, desperately hoping her words would make it through whatever fog had clouded Celestia's mind. “Twilight Sparkle. Your friend.” Celestia apparently did not hear her. Whatever delusion had swept over her, it only intensified. “Oh, Cadance. I am sorry. I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean for any of it to happen.” Despite the cloudiness, Twilight saw her good eye start to water. Without thinking, Twilight swallowed and did her best to answer in a level voice. “I know, Princess Celestia. I know you didn’t. It's okay.” She spoke wearily, nervously, and moved to take a step forwards. She had hardly lifted a hoof before Celestia dove forwards with sudden energy, wrapping Twilight in her wings almost violently. It took Twilight several seconds to realize it was supposed to be a hug. “I tried, Cadance! I did! I would have given anything to bring you back!” “I know, Princess. I believe you. I...” Twilight had to keep her mind back so she could manage to speak. “I forgive you.” “I love you, Cadance. I know I did not often say so as you grew older… I was going to after the wedding, but...” “It's okay, Princess Celestia.” Twilight swallowed hard. “I… I love you too.” Celestia's reply was a choked sob, the princess even subconsciously trying to keep her emotions hidden. Twilight wondered if Celestia could hear a word she was saying. “First Luna,” she whispered. “Then you. Everypony I love is taken away from me. And it's my fault.” Twilight was stunned. Across the weeks she had spent with Celestia, she had thought she had at least begun to get close to Celestia, to understand her. But now she saw that the Celestia she had been with had been wearing a mask. Delusions? Certainly, they were ravaging Celestia's brain, but her emotions were more genuine than they had ever been. Every warm smile Celestia had given her, every playful act or joke, and only now did Twilight realize the weight she was fighting back in order to bring them forwards. Twilight leaned into Celestia's embrace, which she had been trying her best to calmly break. The princess sobbed soundlessly into Twilight's shoulder, and spoke no further. The fog in her mind seemed to have clouded over that, too. Twilight offered several interjecting remarks, which were no more than cautious utterings of Celestia's name, but received no response every time. After a while, Celestia's heaving form gradually grew still, until she was leaning on Twilight with the full extent of her weight.. Twilight gingerly detached herself from the unconscious princess, doing her best to lower Celestia gently into a proper laying position. It seemed another bout of unconsciousness had swept over her, and Twilight reasoned that if anypony deserved a rest, it was her. But a cautious glance instantly flooded her with more of her previous terror and urgency. For Celestia's sobs had not only stopped, her breathing had stopped. “Oh no...” she said it first as a whisper, but repeated it over and over until her cracking voice rung out, bouncing off the narrow corridor and echoing endlessly into infinity. “No no no no! Don't do this!” At her side in a moment, Twilight instantly confirmed with growing dread that her suspicions were correct. She tore the Sunstone off her head and tossed it carelessly some ways down the tunnel. She spread her magic across Celestia's lifeless body, hunting for a pulse. It was present, but weak, and fading. The stronger tug was Celestia's magic stream—Twilight remembered the strange frequency from when they had both used their magic to power the teleportation scroll, and she once more found it rubbing against her own. Healing magic was hardly Twilight's specialty; she had read several books, but never would she have dreamed of putting such spells into practice. She was a journalist, not a princess or arcane hero. Desperately she tried again and again to keep her own magic linked with the fading throbs of Celestia's, a moving target for an untrained archer. Still, Celestia's magic was warm and welcoming even as it faded away. Twilight closed her eyes, and did her best to drown out the blood racing in her ears as well. Her mind was a flurry of activity, but with a deep breath she drove back grim predictions and her subconsciousness' chanting of text-book passages. Her world became two gossamer threads of magic, purple and yellow. And then, in an anti-climactic click, it was just one. The silence of the tunnels were split by Twilight’s ensuing scream. Celestia’s magic crackled into her horn, sending wild sparks as Twilight’s pathetic unicorn horn struggled to keep the link active. In cautious, sipping breaths, Twilight brought her mind back to a focused state. Despite its painful intensity, Celestia’s thread of magic was now more or less linked with her own. Whatever the tunnels had been doing to the princess’s magic… Twilight now realized the full extent of what she had been enduring in silence. Still, she did her best to stay focused, and to her own amazement her attempts to alleviate the tunnel’s burden on Celestia’s magic seemed to not be ending in complete failure. Celestia’s sides had begun to rise and fall slightly, joining the rhythm of Twilight’s panting breath. And then, there was another sound, a rustling of heavy-sounding armour, echoing from the now unlit darkness. Twilight jerked her attention up, forcing light magic into her already sparking horn. It sprung to life and she cast back the shadows with her wavering light, still tinted yellow as Celestia’s also flowed through it. The black alicorn it washed upon was instantly recognizable, even if it was a creature Twilight had never before seen with her own eyes. Twilight’s blood curdled, but through some alien force, she managed to speak. “S...stay back! Leave us alone!” A sly grin formed on Nightmare Moon’s face as she looked from Celestia, crumbled and bloodied with her one good eye glazed in unconsciousness, and to the shivering unicorn standing in front of her with her horn aglow. “My, oh my! Ponies certainly come larger than I remember them in my day!” Nightmare Moon’s eyes travelled up and down Twilight’s body, before she leaned down and looked into her face with a smile—not a malicious one, but instead one Twilight would expect from Princess Celestia. “Do you have a name, my dear?” Any of her alien conviction had already fled. Twilight was too terrified to reply. “Would you like it better if I refer to you in terms of your girth?” A humiliated blush joining her frightened expression, Twilight forced out a stuttering sentence. “My name is T-Twilight Sparkle.” “What a lovely name. Would you be so kind as to repeat what you have requested of me, Miss Sparkle? I am not sure if I heard you properly. I would hate to act on some whim driven by misconception.”   It only took one backwards glance at Celestia’s broken form for Twilight to gulp down her fear and look directly into Nightmare Moon’s smiling face. “I asked you to please not hurt Princess Celestia.” “Ah.” Nightmare Moon turned away sadly. “So I did hear you correctly.” The black alicorn was staring down the pulsating hallway, and the corridor soon was illuminated by her cold blue light as her horn sprung to life. Then, Twilight was flung backwards, crashing against the stone wall of the tunnel. Nightmare Moon did not turn around, even as she shifted her magic to Twilight’s neck, pinning the unicorn with her legs flailing just above the ground. “How much of an idiot are you?” When she finally turned, she did so slowly, watching Twilight writhe and squirm with a passive expression. “I truthfully wish to know. What did you seriously expect my response was going to be?” “P...please!” Twilight sputtered, her hooves prying uselessly at the magic lifting her above the ground. “Just listen to me, please!” “Oh, of course,” Nightmare Moon finally turned around. Her magic cut out, and Twilight fell roughly onto the floor once again. “I am earnestly curious to see how you aim to justify such a ludicrous request. Oh, and if I wish, I can rend her in two and then drown you in her blood. So don’t test me.”   “Okay,” Twilight said simply. It was the most she could manage between her gasps for breath. Fortunately for her, Nightmare Moon waited patiently for her to catch her breath. It seemed as though the ferocious alicorn was genuinely curious. “You shouldn’t have diluted your magic with Celestia’s by the way,” Nightmare Moon spoke as if she were giving polite advice during a chess game, peering down at Twilight’s wheezing form. “I wouldn’t be able to harm you, otherwise.” “The surface,” Twilight managed. “Please. We’re just trying to get back to the surface.” “I gathered. Then, go.” “I’m not leaving Celestia to die!” “Well, that is your prerogative. I doubt you can comprehend how long I have been waiting for an opportunity to end her worthless life.” “Please. She doesn’t deserve to die.” Nightmare Moon’s face twisted into a snarl before Twilight could even finish her sentence. Once more her magic was focused around Twilight’s neck, so that she could only breathe through quick sips of air. “Deserve?” she barked, her shockingly calm disposition gone, replaced with abrupt and violent fury. “You freakish, friendless little rat! Do you seriously think you can understand what Celestia deserves?” Twilight could hardly breathe, let alone answer Nightmare Moon’s retorting question, as she tried desperately to free herself from the alicorn’s dark magic grasp. “I said don’t test me,” Nightmare Moon only intensified her magic, cutting off the last of Twilight’s air, enveloping the rest of her body so that she could not even squirm. “You’re about to find out what the cost of failure is.” The magic gripping her remained fast, impeding all possible physical movement, but even through the fog of fear Twilight’s mind was churning wildly, searching for a solution. And then, a glint of gold in the corner of her eye provided one. Her body may have been in Nightmare Moon’s grasp, but with a sudden flare of her own telekinetic magic, the Sunstone flew from where she had discarded it. The stone was forcibly wrenched from the crown as she carelessly grabbed it, and it cut through the musty air with alarming speed, so that even Nightmare Moon looked surprised by the sudden glowing object separating her from the squirming and weak unicorn. Then, looking amused, Nightmare Moon let her magic taper off just enough to let Twilight speak. When she did, her voice was weak, raspy, and without a single trace of the confidence she was attempting to radiate. “This is why you should leave us alone,” she said. “This is what me and Celestia came down here to find. Recognize it?” Nightmare Moon only looked more and more entertained, and did not answer. “It’s called the Sunstone,” Twilight proceeded, brandishing it like a dagger. “And if it so much as touches you...” Twilight’s voice was a cracking and wavering mess no matter how much confidence she attempted to radiate. She was hardly familiar with speaking in threats. “How very convincing.” Nightmare Moon grinned, taking a step closer to examine the hovering stone pointed like a blade in her direction. “Forgive me if I seem a little pessimistic.” “Are you willing to chance it? A thousand years waiting for revenge, only to get beaten by a nerdy little mortal? Because this stone has a sliver of the one thing Celestia says would be able to destroy you. Princess Luna. Is that something you want back?” A shadow of uncertainty danced for a split-second in Nightmare Moon’s reptilian eyes. It was a fleeting glimmer of hope, but even so Twilight knew her pathetically expressed threat had brought doubt into Nightmare Moon’s resolve. She did not know entirely how Nightmare Moon functioned, but if what Celestia had told her had indeed been true, then Nightmare Moon was a parasite that had completely destroyed its host and was now residing in its empty shell. And then again, even that had been destroyed, Twilight reasoned. The Nightmare Moon before her was only a result of Celestia’s magic stream still fused with her own. “You’ve got guts, my chubby little unicorn friend,” Nightmare Moon cracked a grin. Her magic ended completely, and she pushed Twilight against the stone wall, where she fell to her hooves beside Celestia. The Sunstone clattered, inches from Celestia’s splayed hooves. Her aching head was forcibly jerked upwards by foreign magic, with the same warmth as Celestia’s. Nightmare Moon was looming over her, like a stern schoolteacher. “You’re making a big mistake putting your trust in that prudish white-coated bitch of a sister, but I’ll let you see that for yourself. Then, I’ll be back for you, Twilight Sparkle. And I swear to the stars above, I will tear you apart limb by bloody limb, like a young colt would a spider. I am going to make your final days absolute hell. And when I’m done, I’ll drive a sliver of my soul into your own, as I did with Celestia, so that even with death you’ll be unable to find a release. Until then, good luck saving Celestia. I’ll make sure it’s not worth it.” In a burst of yellow light, Nightmare Moon vanished. Closing her eyes, Twilight let out a long, drawn out breath. Her heart was still thumping—she could not recall when it had ever raced so fast. “Twilight.” She opened her eyes again, unable to muster any urgency into the groggy action. Celestia was struggling to her hooves, wearing a small frown. “You spoke with her?” “Y… yes…” Twilight breathed, hardly believing it herself. “You fused our magic streams.” Any of the weariness that had brought the princess to her fallen state of unconsciousness had vanished. She spoke in cold statements of fact that she hardly bothered phrasing into questions. “I had to, princess. You were dying.” “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?” Still the calmness in Celestia’s voice was bewildering. “We could have both died, Twilight. Then what?” “I… I don’t…” “Do I need to tell you?” “No.” “Then you do know.” It wasn’t a question, and this time Celestia made no move to express it as such. “I couldn’t let you die,” Twilight whispered. “I’m sorry.” “Sorry?” Celestia repeated, cocking her head. “No, no, no! You misunderstand me,  Twilight. You saved my life! Don’t be sorry for that! But you cannot keep risking your life for my benefit. You are young, and I am not. When an old mare dies, it is not a tragedy. When a young mare does, it is. Every time.” A splitting repeat of Celestia’s incoherent sobs—her choking pleas to her long-dead niece—echoed in Twilight’s mind. She could find no objection in Celestia’s statement, nor a trace of courage to question her even if she did. Experience on the matter was something she did not have, and Celestia most certainly did. In her magic she grasped the Sunstone. Some ways down the path she found the crown, too, and once more she clipped the precious gem into its comfortable place, resting gently above Twilight’s humble and hung head. Behind her, Celestia’s horn was burning with a dim yellow light, and the princess was smiling a distant smile. Twilight wondered whether she had any memory of her delusional breakdown. Then, she wondered why she would ever wish to know. Lighting her own horn, Twilight led the way back to the surface with her steady lavender glow, the Sunstone humming warmly as it crept comfortably into her magic’s flow while stretching its tendrils to the gentle calling of the overdue sun waiting for them above. iii The sound of distant rolling thunder, and birds calling out a confused and disjointed dawn chorus. Celestia perked her ears at the sound and smiled. Her horn had already shown signs of resuming its persistent tug for the sun several minutes earlier, and the two had continued down the tunnel with newfound urgency. She’d collapsed twice more since the first incident, never as severe either time. Her vision had become so cloudy that she could not even make out the details on her hoof outstretched directly in front of her. Instead of letting unconsciousness or delusions sweep over her once more, however, she immediately locked into urgent conversation with Twilight as she rested. Her lucid mind knew that they were the only ones in the tunnel, and Twilight’s nervous voice was an anchor that confirmed such. And so, even through the cooing threats muttered by voices from her past brought back to life by the tunnel’s enchantments, and even through the sharp pain and dripping of blood through her makeshifts bandages, she kept herself as rooted in reality as she could. Both times, she had risen on her own accord and proceeded forwards with whatever pinprick of strength she had regained. Twilight had grown distant and nervous, leading Celestia to believe that in between bouts of dizzy weariness, her own wavering and incoherent thoughts had left her tongue without leaving an imprint on her memory. Their eventless trek down a featureless tunnel had become a hellish fever-dream. Now, though, she could feel the sun and hear the world above. And Twilight was still wearing the Sunstone and keeping her head ducked low as if in shame from doing so. When they reached the surface they were not immediately outside. Instead, they emerged into a tiny stone building, completely featureless save for the staircase they had entered. There was not even a door or opening to the tiny room. “The hell…?” Twilight muttered, looking around. Celestia, too, was confused, for a brief moment, before chuckling to herself as she realized what they had emerged into. “It’s a mausoleum,” she explained. “Empty. Looks as though my dear sister desecrated some poor noble’s resting place to make her secret exit from the Catacombs.” “Huh. Creepy. But that means we’re there? We… we did it?” Celestia rested a wing on her back and smiled warmly. “We did it, Twilight.” Contrary to what she had admittedly been expecting, Twilight did not immediately shirk away from the embrace. Still, the inside of a crypt in the Everfree Castle’s overgrown cemetery was hardly an ideal place for such a moment, and Celestia was quick to break the embrace. She gingerly removed her wing, took a breath, and then violently blasted a hole through the stone with her newly regained magic. The air was thick and smelt of distant storms as she stepped out into the drizzling morning sky, her horn still alight as she raised the sun. The lighting of the morning sky remained unchanged as the sun struggled to force its way through the dark and brooding rainclouds. “I would like to thank you,” Celestia said once Twilight, who had been gaping at the blasted hole in the ossuary, finally caught up with her standing in the graveyard and staring upwards unblinking at the rain streaking down her face. “Twilight, not only have you proven yourself to be a quick-thinking problem solver and gifted spellcaster, you have also shown that you are a loyal and caring friend.” “Y… you too, Princess Celestia,” Twilight said after a pregnant pause and a glance around at their surroundings. Indeed, a graveyard seemed an odd place for such a conversation. Silence. The rain fell onto the tombstones. Celestia outstretched a wing to keep Twilight and the Sunstone dry. “Thank you, Princess,” Twilight whispered. “For?” “For what you said earlier. Or, rather, what you made me say. Getting this stone… you’ve really made me feel like… like I matter.” “I cannot express how pleased that makes me,” Celestia said, her lack of enthusiasm somehow failing to contradict her words. Her eyes swept over Twilight, staring at her hooves. The Sunstone crown had begun to glow with its contact with the sun restored, but Twilight did not seem to notice. Celestia let out a long breath from her nose. Unsure of whether or not she truly knew what she was doing, she proceeded anyways. “Twilight, how familiar are you with Equestria’s political arrangement?” “Uh… not very, I’m afraid.” “No matter. It is something we will discuss in time,” Celestia said. “I will give you the fast version. Centuries ago, I used to have a pony who assisted greatly with ruling my kingdom. Making important decisions and presenting them to me for approval, speaking with my subjects when I could not. Second to the Crown. At one point, it was my sister. After her, I changed the title to Crown Minister, but the concept was more or less the same. I selected them, and they represented my word to the ponies. “In truth, I only did this because I needed to recover. I’d lost my immortal companion, and the way I saw it, there was a chance that I perhaps would have to face eternity alone. I did not trust my broken self autonomous rule over a kingdom. But of course, as is with any tragedy, one moves on. Over the decades I gradually retook my place on the throne. I dismissed Equestria’s final Crown Minister one hundred and sixteen years after my sister’s fall.” Stopping to gauge Twilight’s expression, Celestia could already see that bewildered anticipation had already crept into the mare’s visage. She suspected what Celestia was about to say, but did not quite believe it all the same. Celestia grinned as she said it anyways. “If I really do succeed in retaking my throne… I would like for you to be my next Crown Minister, Twilight Sparkle. Second to the Throne.” Twilight gawked. Her internal predictions did not matter, it hit her with the force of a train all the same. Finally, when she could speak, she only did so in disjointed syllables. “Wow… I… I mean, Princess—” “Please call me Celestia. It has been so long since somepony has simply called me by my name, without any utterings of status before it.” “I… okay,” Twilight stuttered feverishly. “Uh… but don’t you think… I mean, it’s not like I’m qualified or anything.” “Twilight, qualified is an invention of Flim and Flam’s rule. Not mine. You are smart, competent, and caring. You do what is best for everypony no matter where it places you. That is all the qualification I need right now.” “That’s a big offer, Pr… Celestia,” Twilight ground over the word like it tasted strange coming off her tongue. “I don’t know if I’m ready to give you an answer.” “That is perfectly alright. I cannot expect you to answer me on the spot. Until you are ready to answer, this conversation never happened.” A playful smile diffused the majority of the situation’s tenseness, and a rustling of Celestia’s wings filled it with action instead. “Well, I see no reason why we should dawdle in this humid graveyard.” Celestia yawned. “And I would like to make trails before that storm is upon us. You are content taking the train once more?” “Uh, yeah,” Twilight blinked, looking a little taken aback by Celestia’s sudden activity. Surely it must have been odd for her to reconcile the smiling, cheery mare with the wretched and fragile wreck she had seen in the tunnels. “What about the Sunstone?” “I think wearing the Element of Magic is bound to catch attention,” Celestia nodded. “Keep it hidden. I trust it with you. As for the scrolls and gemstones, we would do good to dispose of them before we leave this forest. I can take care of them if you wish.” Both mares emptied their saddlebags, and Twilight stuffed the Sunstone into the now spacious area. Under a heavy armoured hoof Celestia crushed most of the gemstones to dust and scattered them about the damp overgrown grass where graves grew from the twisted and gnarled earth, and then stuffed the remainder of their scrolls into her own saddlebag and clasped it shut. They shared an optimistic farewell, and bade each other cheerful promises for safe returns. Feeling as though a great weight had been lifted off her back, Celestia took off with a few dainty flaps of her wings. She wore a smile as she flew on through the morning skies for Canterlot. A glance behind her. The Everfree Castle, standing alone and forlorn in its cage of electrical wires and blazing artificial lights. Her smile fell, just a little. “I will see you soon, Luna,” she muttered. “Eventually.” The words felt right, but her smile did not return from its melancholic edge, as though she were still unsure whether it was the proper thing to do. A few more dainty flaps of her wings, and she carried on towards the rumbling clouds over Old Canterlot. Now that the Sunstone was in the hooves of a mare who she trusted, she truly felt as though she had reason in believing she had returned. It would take a little more than electricity torture, security cameras, and Sun Trotter 2000s to stop her now. Finally, her smile was back. Hello again, Equestria.