Celestia woke when she felt Cinder stir beside her. She yawned and stretched her wing—now stiff—before folding it closed. She opened her eyes blearily—and suddenly, she was wide awake.
The two of them still sat in the doorway, just out of the light. Outside, high above them, its bloated body black against the dying light, soared a dragon.
It glided in wide, lazy circles, searching the land below for easy prey. Its gaze skitted over the little ruin, and Celestia shrunk a little deeper into the shadows.
Cinder stood and watched it carefully, until it wheeled away and began to flap into the perpetual twilight. “...We’d better get going,” he said, finally. “We won’t be safe here until…”
“...until it’s over,” Celestia finished, meekly.
Cinder nodded. “Right.” He stretched a little, then walked to the other sleeping forms in the hut. “Come on,” he said, softly, nudging each in turn. “Time to get up.”
One by one, the other ponies stood. No one spoke. Celestia watched them as each glanced around nervously, and felt the weight of her own necklace heavy on her chest.
And then, it was time to go. Cinder poked his head out the door, scanned the skies, and stepped out, followed close behind by each of the others in turn.
It wasn’t hard to find the road to the ruins on the peak. It was wide, and paved with white stones that swiftly became stairs. The path was long and steep, and, though no one had come to clear the dirt and stones away for quite some time, it was the only way up. The more they climbed, the narrower the path became, until it was barely wide enough for even one pony to pass. And still, they climbed.
Soon, the ruin itself came into view. Partway up the mountain, a quarter-mile or so from the top, the path suddenly emptied out into a wide shelf. A grand palace had once stood here. Now all that remained were piles of rubble, and a few pillars, and a section of roof. And, under that roof, on an old, broken throne, sat—
“Discord,” Cinder growled.
Discord sat with his back to them, looking out over the countryside. idly playing with a yo-yo. He turned and glanced over his shoulder, and a flash of recognition and irritation crossed his face. “Well,” he purred, “if it isn’t Cinder and the Knights of the Status Quo. Back for another beating?”
Cinder turned and glanced nervously at the others. He swallowed, then turned back to Discord. “Discord!” he roared. “You will pay for your crimes!”
“And still going on with the same old cliches,” Discord responded mildly. After a moment, he shrugged. “You know how it goes,” he said, nonchalantly. “If you want to make an eternal paradise of chaos, you have to crack a few eggs. And if those eggs happen to be upholding the natural order of things...” He yo-ed another yo on his yo-yo. “...Well, I guess you get a different sort of chaos than you were hoping for. I’ll figure something out. Eventually...” He chuckled. “I mean, it’s not like I have anything else on my calendar… or, for that matter, that there is a calendar anymore…”
Celestia stepped up. “Quit stalling, Discord,” she said. “This time, it will be different. The land itself—”
“The land itself is dying,” Discord snapped with sudden rage, yanking the yo-yo back up into his palm with a smack. The six ponies flinched.
Discord glared at them, eyes burning with hatred—then leaned back a little and chuckled to himself. He took a deep breath, then smoothed back his mane. “The land is dying," he repeated, calmer. "Or didn’t you notice?”
Corncob stepped up on Cinder’s other side. “We noticed,” he said, simply.
Discord watched them for a moment, then calmly stood and stretched, then turned and casually strolled towards them, hands behind his back. He scanned the six with a careful eye, looking for something he did not see. As he did, he spoke.
“Ah, Corncob,” he said genially, “Long time, no see! How’s the family?”
Cob growled. “You know damn well how they’re doing,” he said, his voice low.
“Ah, yes,” Discord said, “that was unfortunate, wasn’t it? Oh well, ‘there but for the grace of Harmony go ye,’ et cetera.” He turned to Ice Dancer. “And good old Icy. How’s your spellcasting stamina? Better?”
Ice Dancer sucked in a breath, then turned away. Woodwind glanced over at her, then stepped between her and Discord. “What are you playing at?” he asked.
“Playing?” Discord repeated with a smirk. “I’m not playing at all, Woody.” He thought for a moment, then nodded deferentially. “Of course, it’s natural that you’d make that mistake… Playing is all you seem to be good for, nowadays…”
Woodwind shrank back as if he’d been struck. Discord, seeming not to notice, continued his stroll down the line. Cinder watched him with rage and hatred in his eyes, but said nothing.
Discord paused as he reached Luna. He glanced her up and down, then smiled. “You’re new,” he said, before taking a step towards her. She tried to back away, but he reached out and grabbed her by the chin. He lifted her head and examined her carefully, turning her face this way and that, then let her go. “Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper?” he asked, with a wry grin.
Celestia growled. “You leave her alone!” she snapped.
Discord looked over his shoulder at her—and his eyes flashed with some kind of perverse glee. He turned and strolled towards Celestia. She stepped back and flared her wings.
“Now, now,” he murmured, “no need to be uncivil—”
“You stay away,” she snarled.
“Come now,” he said, gently, “I don’t want to hurt you—I just want to make sure you’re not going to do something you’re going to regret.”
With a smile, he stared into her eyes, his gaze burning into her. As she stared, little bands of color began to spiral outward from his pupils, slowly expanding to fill her gaze. Celestia tried to look away, but his eyes seemed to be everywhere, filling her vision with swirling colors.
“I mean,” he said, his voice echoing in her skull, “it’s one thing to be self-sacrificing—generosity is a virtue, after all—but you don’t want to go too far, now, do you?”
“Discord,” Cinder said, his voice sounding far away, “What are you doing?”
“Just looking out for an old friend,” he said.
Celestia felt jaw begin to fall open. The colors whirled about her in a mesmerizing dance, everywhere she looked, spinning and shifting, both nauseating and, somehow, beautiful...
“I mean,” Discord continued, “If you give up too much, you’re going to give away something truly important. Your home, your family—Cinder—”
“Celestia?” Cinder asked, his voice fainter now. “Cece, What’s going on?”
“Cinder, hush. The grown-ups are talking,” Discord said. “Just because something has to be done,” he continued, “doesn’t mean that you have to be the one to do it. There are plenty of ponies who are better than you—smarter, more powerful, better connected—and you have to give them an opportunity to help out, too.”
An open claw materialized out of the churning sea of color—but somehow, it was smaller, smoother, kinder than she remembered it. As Celestia stared at it, she felt her anger, her hatred, begin to melt away. What had she been so worked up about, anyways…?
“Tell you what,” he said, “I can take it from here. Just give me that pretty little necklace, and I’ll do the rest.”
She felt her knees begin to tremble, and her wings begin to slacken. Necklace...
“No! Don’t do it! Discord, what have you done to her?”
“Just give me that necklace,” Discord repeated, “and you can have back everything you’ve given up. It’ll all be better. Everything will be just as you wanted it…” the claw flexed a little. “And all for such a little thing…”
Such a little thing…
She put a hoof to her necklace. He’s right… It’s all so easy… all I have to do is take it off… she slipped a hoof to the back of her neck, feeling for the clasp. Take it off, and everything will be alright...
“No!”
A jolt of pain shot across her face. She yelped as the colors split apart and spun off into nothingness. She stared into the eyes of Discord, his claw outstretched, a smile frozen on his lips.
Cinder grabbed her face with both hooves and turned her to face him, his hoof fitting perfectly into the reddening mark on her cheek. “He’s trying to trick you,” he hissed. “Don’t listen to him!”
Discord rolled his eyes, straightened up, then turned and strolled away. “I try to be reasonable…” he muttered to no one in particular.
“Nobody listen to him!” Cinder continued. “We can do this! We have the Elements! We can still save Equestria—!”
“No,” said Discord, almost casually, “No, you really can’t.”
One by one, all six turned to stare. Discord stood with his back to them, thirty or forty feet away, silhouetted in the sunset.
Celestia stared at him, motionless, and, slowly her eyes grew wide. His claws curved wickedly in the orange firelight of the sunset; his horns, which once looked almost perversely whimsical, were long and sharp. He towered over them, impossibly tall, his ropy, muscled body black against the dying sun.
Celestia took a step backwards. “We need to leave,” she whispered. “Now.”
Cinder turned to her. “Celestia…?”
“You think yourself heroes,” Discord interrupted, his voice deadly quiet. “You come here to save your world. But you’ve forgotten one thing…” He turned to face them, his expression hard, without a trace of humor. “I am Discord,” he hissed. “Anarch of Equestria, Lord of Misrule, and Prince of Entropy.” He snarled. “And this world is MINE.”
Without warning, Discord made a grand sweep of his claw, and, with a yelp, Cinder shot forward, hooves scrabbling backwards against the stone. Celestia screamed and lunged after him, but he skidded past her too fast, pulled forward by some invisible force. Discord bent down, caught him by the neck, and lifted him from the ground, his legs kicking. With his free claw, Discord reached up and undid the necklace around Cinder’s neck, then tossed it aside. “You’re right about one thing, though,” he mused. “This time, it will be different. This time,” he said, tightening his grip as Cinder choked, “There will be six less insects to bother me—”
Celestia growled and charged forward. As Discord looked up, she spread her wings and lifted off. He swung his free claw her, but she swooped around it, then kicked him square in the jaw.
Discord snarled and dropped Cinder. He raised a claw, burning with purple fire, but Celestia had already flown away. She wheeled around, fire in her eyes, for a second pass—but, as she drew closer, Discord put out the light, dropped to all fours, coiling his long, lanky body. And, suddenly, as she closed in on him, Discord struck.
He launched his body through the air at her, and, before she could even react, he had sunk his teeth deep into her shoulder. As the two of them flew through the air together, he wrapped his body around her like a snake. They landed, hard, and Celestia gasped.
“That will be enough out of you,” Discord hissed. He squeezed his coils, and Celestia felt the bones in her wings shatter. She tried to scream—but he squeezed tighter, forcing the breath from her lungs.
“Hang on, Cece!”
Cinder charged in, leapt over Discord, and kicked him on his other side—but, with a twist of his body, Discord caught Cinder in more of his coils. Woodwind swooped in, slashing Discord across the face with his wing. Discord tried to snap after him with his jaws, but Woody had already danced away.
Out of the corner of her eye, Celestia saw Ice Dancer run up. She stopped, concentrated, and fired a beam of icy blue at Discord. She felt his coils convulse as the magic burned across him, leaving his fur smoldering. He raised a claw and shot a bolt of purple energy at her, but she yelped and dodged away just in time.
He hissed in irritation. “Playtime’s over.” he snarled
Suddenly, the pressure slacked; Celestia dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. Discord’s body flowed past her as he surged forward, toward Ice Dancer. Icy shrieked and gallopped away, but it was too late; Discord was almost upon her.
Celestia struggled to her hooves. As Discord’s body tapered off, turning from brown fur to red scales, she lunged. She bit, hard, on the white tuft on the end of his tail, digging in her hooves against the stone. Discord jerked to a painful stop, turned and growled at her, but Ice Dancer skittered away, hiding behind a pillar. Discord glanced between Celestia and the vanished Ice Dancer. He snarled and raised his tail—Celestia dangling precariously from the tip—and, with a roar, slammed it down.
Celestia saw the ground rushing up at her and braced herself—but it wasn’t enough. She crashed down, the stone shattering underneath her. She tried to scream, but the breath had been knocked from her lungs. Through a haze of darkness and pain, she saw Discord chase after the others, snarling and snapping after them. She tried to stand—to go help—but her wings flopped uselessly by her side, and her legs were too weak to stand.
And, suddenly, Luna was there. She pulled Celestia’s arm over her little shoulders, and dragged her away just as a blast of magic seared across the stone where she had lain.
“You’re hurt, bad,” Luna yelled over the chaos. “Let’s get you out of here.” She guided Celestia away, towards the edge of the ruins.
Celestia hobbled along with her. He’s strong—he’s so strong—
Luna laid Celestia down behind a fallen pillar. she glanced at her broken wings, then bit her lip. “Hold still,” she said, as her horn flared to life. She cast a pale blue glow on Celestia’s wing, and Celestia cried out as she felt the shattered bones begin to slide back into place.
Celestia gritted her teeth, then peeked over the pillar. She watched for a moment, then ducked as chips of rock rattled off the stone. “He’s not using his magic,” she hissed.
Luna looked up, horn still glowing.
“He’s using his strength, not his magic,” Celestia repeated. “He wiped out whole armies with his magic… Why isn’t he using his magic…?”
Luna bit her lip, and her horn went out. “We’re not ready for this,” she said, then yelped as another bolt of magic cracked over her head.
Celestia nodded. She’s right, she thought. We need to fall back, and regroup, and—
—And then she saw, lying in the dust, a glint of light. It was a necklace—Cinder’s necklace, with the Element of Loyalty still gleaming in the middle of it.
Celestia clenched her jaw. “No.”
Luna stopped. “No?”
Celestia looked her in the eye. “We stick to the plan,” she said. “We end this—or we die trying.”
Luna stared at her, unmoving.
“Come on,” Celestia said, “Help me up.”
Luna seemed to snap awake, then, once again, slung Celestia’s arm over her shoulder. Celestia stood, gritting her teeth from the fresh wave of pain in her wings.
Luna looked up at her. “What do we do?” She asked.
“Find Icy. Get her to help.” She swallowed. “And get Cinder his Element.”
Luna nodded. “I’ll go for Cinder.” Without another word, she ran off, scooped the Element from the dust, and disappeared into the fray.
Celestia glanced around, finally spotting a tuft of white tail behind a pillar. She limped after it, but it disappeared back behind the stone. “Icy,” she called desperately, as a purple beam of light shot through the ruins. “Ice Dancer!”
Ice Dancer peeked her head around the pillar, eyes wide and trembling.
Celestia stopped, breathing hard. “Ice Dancer,” she repeated. “You’re the only one that can end this.” She nodded towards the chaos. “We need your magic to stop him.”
“How?” she pleaded. “I shot at him earlier, and all it did was make him mad…”
“No,” Celestia insisted. “You did more than that. I felt it.”
She looked up. “I did?”
“You did,” she nodded. “But he’s too strong. You can’t hit him like that again—you’re good, but you can’t beat him in a fair fight.”
She seemed to shrink a little. “What can I do?”
“You gotta think like him,” Celestia said urgently. “Look for weak spots. Don’t hit him where it’s fair—hit him where it hurts.” She swallowed. “We don’t need to kill him—We just need to stall. Buy enough time to use the Elements.”
Ice Dancer glanced at Discord—Cob in his coils, Woody in one claw, and firing blasts of magic at Cinder with the other—and back to Celestia. Suddenly, her eyes lit up. “Time,” she repeated. “I can get us time.”
“Good girl,” Celestia said with a smile. “Get to it.”
She nodded, then turned, took a deep breath, and, with a battle cry that would have been funny if it wasn’t so pathetic, charged forward.
Celestia limped towards the fighting, dragging her wings on the ground, as she watched Ice Dancer. Icy stopped thirty feet short of Discord, concentrated, and fired a thin beam of light that lanced through his arm. For a moment, nothing happened—then, with a flash of cold, even from this distance, a great mass of ice began to form on his arm, locking his elbow in place. Discord yelped and dropped Woody in surprise, who glided down and began to tug at the coils trapping Cob.
Discord flexed and shattered the ice—but Icy had already fired two more beams, catching his other arm and his legs. A drop of sweat ran down her face, but still, she fired beams as fast as she could—arms, legs, neck, spine—anywhere that bent, Icy froze it, locking him in place.
By this time, Woody had freed Cob, and, with one of his arms thrown over his shoulder, dragged him back towards Icy. From another direction came Cinder, leaning on Luna, a nasty burn down his side, his Element around his neck. Celestia reached Icy the same time as the rest of them.
Cinder reached up with his free arm and touched Ice Dancer on the shoulder. “Icy,” he said, “stop. We need you here.”
Ice Dancer, her legs trembling beneath her, gave Discord one last glance. By this time, he lay flat on the ground, buried under a thick mound of ice. She turned and nodded, then took a step back. Together, the six of them formed a circle—Celestia taking the spot next to Cinder—and, one by one, took each other by the hooves. Under the ice, a flash of purple magic, and a mighty crack—but still, Celestia took a deep breath and cleared her mind...
She remembered the first time she saw Cinder, coming up over the rise, and the little thrill that ran through her heart at the sight.
She remembered sitting by the fire, holding Luna as she wept—wept for what she, and all of them, had lost.
She remembered racing Woodwind through the trees, laughing as he tried to dance around her.
She remembered the snowcloud she’d found for Ice Dancer, and the simple happiness on her face as she sat peacefully in the falling snow.
She remembered swapping stories with Corncob, laughing almost to tears at his simple, earnest wit.
She remembered—
“He’s coming!” Ice Dancer shrieked.
Celestia opened her eyes and saw Discord, standing on his hind legs in a cloud of steam and magic in the wreckage of the ice. And yet, she knew, with a strange sort of detached confidence, that whatever Discord did really didn’t matter anymore.
She felt her hair begin to stand on end, the warm light in her collar growing brighter. She felt her heart expand as her light connected, bound tight, and braided with the others, their hearts knitting into one. She took a deep breath—in perfect sync with the others—and—
—and out of them, each of them, shot a shaft of fire. Their lights arced high into the air, their colors forming a perfect rainbow, then shot back down and slammed into Discord. He threw up his arms, but he could do nothing else—the rainbow light burned into him, shining brighter than the sun. He screamed—but he sounded so small, and so far away…
The light began to fade. Celestia found her cheeks wet with tears. She gripped Cinder’s hoof a little tighter,
And they saw, standing in front of them, Discord.
Celestia shrunk back—but hesitated. Discord had not moved.
And slowly, she realized, that he couldn’t. Discord stood motionless—turned to stone. Celestia let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.
It was over.