//------------------------------// // Chapter 20: The Long Road // Story: For the Good of Equestria // by brokenimage321 //------------------------------// Celestia stood at the top of the pass, her chest heaving. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. She had pushed herself harder than she ever had before—even used a bit of her magic to make her flight easier—and she had just barely cleared the first obstacle. But now, beyond and below her, lay the valley. Lay the storm. Through the snow, she could just barely see the glow—the crystal city, and, in the center, the crystal Spire. Somewhere in there, if she had any luck at all, was the crystal heart—and the only way to save her people. Straining her eyes to see that far, Celestia realized her lungs were burning, and her wings were already beginning to stiffen. She was no marathon flier. She wanted nothing more than a hot meal, than rest—and the city was still so far… Celestia then bit her lip until she tasted blood. No. Ponies were dying—too many, on all sides—and she had a chance to save them all. She spread her wings one more time. She had to do what she could for the good of Equestria—even if that meant losing herself to the storm. She took a deep breath, then galloped forward, and, pumping her wings, lifted off into the howling gale. The wind slammed into her, shaking her. She tried to trim her wings, but the air currents whipped past her in an unpredictable frenzy. She strained for the cloud of light in the distance, focusing all her energy on that distant point—but a gust of wind seized her and sent her crashing back to the mountainside. She lay there, stunned, flying snow piling up around her. For a long time, she didn’t move. It would be so easy to lay here, she thought, to let it all end… the city was so far away, and she was stupid to think… No. Slowly, painfully, Celestia stood. She shook the snow off of her, then spread her wings. She took off again, and began to fly—but she had not climbed thirty feet before she knew it was useless. Nothing could survive in a storm like this, much less fly. She glided back to earth before the storm could catch her again, then swore, looking up at the swirling clouds above her. Suddenly, her eyes widened. She took several deep breaths, then closed her eyes. Her horn flickered to life, and, slowly, a glowing, golden bubble formed around her. She could still hear the storm, but it was tiny, and far away. Celestia smiled grimly; if Sombra, a mere unicorn, had been able to shield an entire army from the elements, surely she, a mighty alicorn, could protect herself. She spread her wings and took off again, a spark of golden light against the darkness. At first, she soared high, and almost shouted aloud in triumph—but quickly, far too quickly, she could tell something was wrong. The wind still blew, and, though it could not touch her, it hammered on her little bubble with incredible force. Soon, she cried out—she was tumbling again, and the mountainside rushed up at her with alarming speed. The snow cushioned her landing, but only barely. She lay on her side, chest heaving, her mouth tasting of blood again. It took several moments for the stars to clear from her vision, and several more for her to decide which way was up. She lay in the snow, gasping. That was it, then. Celestia was out of tricks. Sombra had beaten her. She had tried her hardest—given everything she could—but this was the end. She couldn’t get to the Spire in time, if at all, and returning to the battlefield would only be a death sentence—if not for her, than for the Alliance. But back at the battle, at least, she could help a little. Here in the storm, she was helping no one. ...and yet… Slowly, something worked its way up from the bottom of her mind. Memories of times long ago—better times—clicked into place. Painfully, she climbed to her hooves one last time, and looked up at the clouds above. If this worked, she could perhaps save everyone—and, if it didn’t— Well. Now was not the time to be thinking about that. Celestia spread her wings, one last time, took a few deep breaths, then rocketed upwards. She flew, high and fast, pumping her wings as hard as she could. The wind tried to claim her, but she did not let it, forcing herself past the turbulence. Tears began to stream from her eyes, and golden sparks dripped from her horn. She felt the earth, the wind, the sky, claw at her, drag her down—and she roared in defiance. Sudden darkness—coldness—wetness—and, almost as suddenly—sunlight. Celestia cleared the stormclouds with a gasp. The clouds lay below her, a great, white plain. Above her, the sky stretched, a pale, icy blue, the sun a drop of golden light. The sudden silence was almost deafening; after the howling chaos of the storm, all seemed perfectly still. Celestia hovered there in the light for a moment, then shook free her scarf and hood, letting her pale, pink mane flow free. After a moment, she turned and smiled at the sun. This far north, it seemed so small and far away—but, nevertheless, it was a comfort. “Hello, old friend,” Celestia said. She landed gently on the clouds below her, keeping her wings spread out for balance. Below, the clouds raged and boiled with the fury of the blizzard, but up here, where the wind was quiet, they simply, subtly flowed. Celestia let herself be carried along for several minutes as she caught her breath. She glanced up at the sun again, then closed her eyes. Slowly, her horn began to glow. For a moment, the light remained steady—and then it began to spread down along her body, covering her. She took a deep breath of rarefied air, then let it out, feeling the magic flow into, around, and through her. Her muscles softened and strengthened, and the lingering soreness fell away. She would come to regret this, she knew—trading mental exhaustion for physical strength—but, somehow, on the top of the world, with the sun shining down on her, those seemed like problems for another day. Finally, she let her magic fade. She glanced up at the sun and smiled again. “Thank you,” she whispered. She spread her wings and lifted off. She flapped hard a few times to get above the clouds, and, within moments, could already feel her weatherpony senses returning. She turned and followed the spiral of the clouds with her eye, looking for their center, all the while, her wings instinctively adjusting themselves, catching every bit of breeze, searching out all the little snatches of updraft hidden in the clouds. Finally, at the moment Celestia found what she was looking for—a dark spot in the center of the plain of clouds—her wings caught her a tailwind. Not much of one, but enough to make the flight a little faster. Celestia flew on for a long time, alternately gliding and flapping for altitude. Up here, in the silence, it was just the two of them—the sun princess and her charge. As she flew, she felt her heart begin to lighten. Here, in this world of sky and silence, she found it was easy to let things go. To let worries drop. To allow her mind, in the slightest bit, to uncoil the knots she’d tied in it. She no longer felt the weight of her crown. She was just herself. Just Celestia. And, after an hour or two of this—just as the sun began to reach the top of the sky—she knew what she had to do. It would be hard—perhaps even impossible—but, if she really believed what she said she did—and if she and her sister really, truly wanted this Alliance to succeed—she could do nothing else. * * * Celestia abruptly dropped out of her tailwind and hovered, uncertainly, above the dark spot—an ugly pucker in the clouds, at the exact center of the storm. As she examined it, she pulled up her scarf and hood—and noticed, to her slight surprise, a tall, thin spine growing out of the center. Crystal. She had been right—this storm wasn’t completely natural—it was centered on the Crystal Spire, in the dead center of the valley. And, somewhere in there was the crystal heart. The key to ending this. Celestia glanced up at the sun one last time, then banked her wings. She entered a wide, lazy spiral, turning faster and faster as she drew in closer and closer to the tip of the Spire, lower and lower to the cloud cover. She braced herself and broke through the clouds again, back into the gale. A moment of panic—but Celestia let her mind go, let her wings fly the way they knew. And, though she could feel her stomach dropping out from beneath her as the wind threw her about, she, herself, felt calm as that blue sky above. She knew what she had to do. And she knew her wings did, too. A sudden tingle of magical power, and Celestia dropped through the top of the dome, into the Crystal City. A quick snap of her wings, and she froze, hovering, in midair. From up here, at the very top of the city, it looked quite peaceful—but she knew that, whatever the appearances, there was something ugly buried underneath. She was here to save her people—and, if possible, to save the crystal ponies as well. With all that, she had no time to lolligag. Celesta turned and glided towards the Spire. As she neared it, she saw a open balcony, halfway up the structure. She landed lightly on the crystal floor, opened the door with her magic, and slipped inside. She stood, breathing hard, listening harder, for a long moment. She could hear faraway shouting, and panicked hooves on crystal floors. She grimaced; she had hoped that Sombra had taken his guards with him—but that would be too much to ask, wouldn’t it? She sighed, then, with her magic, undid her cloak, folded it, and put it away in her saddlebags. There was nothing for it—she had to do her best, and hope that she could slip by, at least mostly unnoticed.   She hesitantly walked down the hall, glancing carefully down each side passage. It took her only a moment for her to realize she was in over her head. The Spire was huge—and she’d never quite gotten to know the place as well as Luna. How on earth was she going to find the crystal heart in all this mess? Suddenly, up ahead, Celestia heard the clattering of hooves. She looked up just in time to see three guards wearing Crystal armor round the corner ahead. They skidded to a halt and froze. "It's the Equestrian!" the mare on the left cried. "Stand down!" the stallion on the right barked at her. The guard in the middle simply stared. Celestia slowly lowered her horn to point at them, glaring. For a moment, no one moved. Without warning, the silent guard planted his front hooves, pivoted, and bucked the stallion in the jaw, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. At the same time, he bit the mare deep in the neck, down by her shoulderblade. She squealed in pain, and tried to buck him off—but, before she could, Celestia grabbed her in a golden glow and slammed her against the wall. She fell limply to the floor. The last guard turned to face her, and she snarled, her horn still glowing. "Get out of my way," she growled. "Hold your horses," he cried, reaching up and pulling off his helmet, revealing an orange coat and brilliant blue mane. "It's me, Flash!" Celesta raised her head. "Flash?" she repeated, putting out her horn. "Yes, Ma'am," he said, nodding. "You're after the Crystal Heart, ain't 'cha?" he asked. Celestia nodded. "How'd you know?" "Way I figure," he said, putting his helmet back on, "Only good reason for you to be here right now, with His Brilliance on the warpath 'n' all." He jogged past her. "Now c'mon," he said. "Let's get goin'." Celestia turned, slightly mystified, and trotted after him. He glanced back at her, then picked up his pace, breaking into a run. Celestia ran after him, her long legs letting her catch up in just a few strides. As she passed him, she grabbed Flash in her magic and set him on her back. He gulped, then sat up and wrapped his arms around her neck. "Thank ya, Ma'am," he muttered nervously. She nodded. "Faster this way," she said. He pointed past her. "Left up here." Celestia rounded the corner and kept running. "You know where we're going?" she asked. "Kinda," he admitted. "I ain't never seen the Heart myself—the older guards said the last Queen kept it out in the open somewheres, but Sombra only brings it out for special occasions. He mostly keeps it hid. But I know there's a part of the Spire he don't let no one into." He hesitated. "Seems like a good place to start." She nodded. "Works for me." She glanced back at him. "Why are you helping me?" she asked. "Ma'am?" he asked uncertainly. "You're a palace guard," she said. "You're supposed to keep ponies like me away from the heart. Why are you helping me?" He swallowed. "My Mama told me about you," he said quietly. "She told me about when her mama met you. Said it was the greatest thing ever happened to her. Said that you were kind, and gentle, and just wanted to help ol' Roan Oak." Celestia glanced back at him. He sat on her shoulders, looking down, his expression pensive. "Sombra ain't that way," he said. "He's a good king, sometimes. But he don't want to make us happy. He wants to make us safe." He paused. "And that ain't always the same thing. Right," he added, pointing. He gripped tighter as Celestia rounded the corner, then spoke again. "Plus, it's like you told my Grandma, all those years ago..." Celestia glanced back at him again—and, this time, he stared straight ahead with a hard, flinty glare. He glanced down at her. "...Be loyal to those who have earned it," he finished. Celestia swallowed, then turned her head forward again, eyes wide. For the next several minutes, they ran in silence. Celestia followed Flash's directions, not even trying to keep track of where she was. She had the vague impression of travelling upwards—higher and higher, higher than she thought possible—until, finally, Flash called "Stop!" She skidded to a halt, her chest heaving. They stood in front of a set of ornate double-doors. Flash slipped off her back, using his wings to slow his fall. "This is it," he said. "Highest room of the Spire, and ain't one of us ever been inside." He nodded to the door. "Good place to start as any." Celestia turned and bobbed her head at him. "My thanks," she gasped out. He returned the bow. "No thanks neccesary, Ma'am," he said. "Just doin' my duty to my people." He looked back down the hallway they'd come down. "Bet half the Spire is lookin' for us right about now," he said. "I'll go distract 'em." He looked back to her and swallowed nervously. "Just... do right by us, okay?" Celestia nodded. "I will." Flash nodded, then looked down. "May the Wise Ones keep your path," he said. Celestia nodded, slowly. "Harmony guide you," she returned. Flash bowed one last time, then turned and ran down the hallway. Celestia watched him until he rounded the corner, then she turned back to the double doors. She took a deep breath, then pushed them open. What she saw made her ragged breath catch in her throat. In front of her stretched an almost-spherical chamber. Every wall, in every direction, was covered with crystals of all colors—pinks, blues, greens, golds, whites—all glowing with their own, steady light. Three or four tall windows, spaced evenly around the exterior, looked out on the roofs of the city far below. The floor lay flat ahead of her, inlaid with intricate designs and polished to a mirror sheen. And, in the center of the chamber, stretching from floor to ceiling like an ugly sore, stood a thick, black pillar of crystal. Its roots and branches snaked among the crystals, draining the ones it touched of their light, suffocating them with its darkness. And, in a thick, spherical bulge in the center of the crystal column, shone a beautiful, almost blinding, light. Celestia stared. Slowly, reverently, she stepped forward, her hooves echoing in the silence of the chamber. She felt a strange desire to look into that light—to see what lay beyond—to stare into the center of the crystal heart. She took another step, and another, slowly drawing closer to that beautiful light. And then—