The Crying Statue

by D Historian


The Effects of Disharmony, and Harmony

The Effects of Disharmony, and Harmony
~~~~~

Huh.

She’s not crying. She just stands firmly, as if it’s just another ordinary day, with nothing to worry about. As if we did not just gain a new statue in the gardens.

This does not surprise me, for some reason.

Celestia was always the strong one, the bold one, the calm one. She kept her cool, and faced every danger and foe with a clear and unburdened mind. She was the kindness, the generosity.

She was also the most sensitive, and she also knew you better than I did. I think. She was always your favourite, too, anyway. And after all this, she still does not weep. Not like I did.

I’m not sure what I expected, for her to wail? To scream? To express her heartbreak through every pore of her body? To bawl her eyes out? To renounce her claim on the throne?

No. She would not do that.

She’s hurting, on the inside. Her steps have no spring; her eyes have no sparkle. She is monotone, dead. She does her every business quietly, and hasn’t pranked me once since your imprisonment. It probably reminds her too much of you, but I think time will heal. It always does.

She has a haze of grey sadness pouring out through every breath she takes, and she is almost grey. Strange, even though you are the one who is trapped in stone, it seems that we all are. Trapped in granite, unable to move anywhere, unable to progress, just stay trapped in a place where the concept of time was lost. Except the ponies, of course. They wanted this. They see Celestia as the face of the country, the unfailing goddess who saved them all from eternal chaos, from anarchy’s clutches. She is perfect in their eyes, but what do they see me as? Just another pony who helped her? Just the element of Laughter, Loyalty and Honesty?

You were the laughter. And now you’re gone. The world is far, far too static now.

~~~~~

Flowers.

Pink. Like the magical ones you used to conjure. I barely blink, and with a reflexive impulse, I react.

They hit the other side of the room forcefully, the speeding projectile snapping against the alabaster walls, the perfect walls. They droop, stems broken, oozing life essence, but petals still intact, taunting me brokenly. The pink buds wilt a little, under the strong ray of heat that my magical grip has been influencing, scorching slightly in the fiery heat.

I can’t stand reminders!

With that simple and forceful thought, like a thrusting icy blade, flames lick the bundle of flowers swiftly, cackling and hissing as well as an artificially conjured fire could, consuming the flowers in a golden blaze, and the reminder was soon reduced to cindering ashes. The fire made quick work. It was efficient, orderly.

You hated order.

My lip gives out under the harsh treatment of my teeth, and a trickle of salty blood flows into my mouth, the metallic taste assaulting the remaining senses I had. Everything reminded me of you!

I felt cold. Very, very cold. Everything is numb from pain and I am disconnected at the moment. It hurts, but it is very far away, like it hurts for somepony else, not me. My head spins and dots, like little fish, swim before my eyes. The pale grey floor is suddenly patterned with purple and pink squares, the familiarity making me shudder violently. Hollow laughter fills the space in my ears that have been empty for a very long time.

Oh…Tia!” Taunting.

Then eyes, red and yellow, glaring, betrayed, tortured, occupy the entirety of my vision. You smile, baring teeth that could rend and tear, but the leer has lost its menacing edge, and is sad. Dread pounds through my head like heartbeat, and I am shown mercy, when the piercing red and gold is stuffed out suddenly, like a little candle wick wiped out by an ocean. It is replaced with grey. An ocean of grey. It floods everything, and I scream, but they grey pours through my mouth and nostrils, into my lungs, and I drown in it, and it suddenly hardens, so I am left petrified, and cold, very, very cold…

Then everything dissolves in a bright blue flash, the chaotic playground disappearing, its landscape replaced by large eyes, inquisitive and startled. Familiar eyes.

The aqua hue that reflects in the eyes flickered for a moment.

Angry yellow and crimson stared back.

Then the eyes reverted back to those eyes, Luna’s eyes.

“Are you alright, Tia?”

Tia.

I flinch. The name reverberates in my ears, and if I lose focus, as in my hearing, the sound can almost deepen with malice. Luna looks worried, frowning. She is entirely oblivious to my inner agony.

“Ti-?”

“Don’t say it!” I scream at her, making her wince. For a second, I feel guilty, guilty I had hurt my sister. But it is quickly engulfed in frustration, like the fire swallowing the delicate blossoms before. I glare, and she cowers.

She licks her lips, an action I was unable to do without pain, due to the damage my lips have sustained. She clears her throat and begins to form words, probably an apology, one I neither deserved, nor wanted to hear.

She looks visibly upset, as though it was my doing. But I refuse to soften. My frustrations, my anger, my rage and self-pity, along with my sorrow, I attempted to express in a single word. A tsunami of turmoil rears up.

“I-“ The word never made it past my tight throat, through my remarkably dry mouth, before I was completely and utterly drained, empty of my previous emotions.

I’m sorry!” That phrase, sad and guilty, summed up how I felt. I was sorry, for snapping at Luna, who did nothing wrong. I was sorry, for Discord, I…I bawl into her shoulder, her warm blue coat soaked by tears. A hoof tightened around my back as I sob harder, tears welling out and splashing onto Luna, who patted me softly. Her trickling tears joined mine, but she was far too tired to cry any harder. She hugged me, a role reversal on what usually took place. Luna hummed and stroked my back. Her song was like a lullaby; by I didn’t register the words. I tried not to imagine what the ponies would say if they saw me, the benevolent princess of Equestria, crying my heart out onto my sister, who was comically small compared to me.

In that moment, I felt my centuries worth of burdens snap as my godlike façade cracked under the weight of everything. I just cried for what seemed like hours, until I was dry and exhausted. Luna stayed with me during the whole time, a whole world of comfort for me. At the end of it all, she wrapped a wing, significantly smaller than me, around us both, embracing the steadfast bond that sealed us tight. “I know.” She whispered.

But she didn’t.