Duskfall

by Celestial Swordsman

Interrupted

Chapter 39

“Ahem.”

Trixie was propped up on a stone chest that had sat unnoticed throughout the events of the dead morning. After refreshing herself with cider and watching all the drama, she announced, “If you’re all done, Trixie has found something important.”

The others turned as the brash blue unicorn levitated something out of the chest and into her hat. She stood up to take her stage stance, holding her hat out tantalizingly with a crooked smile.

“For clopping out loud!” let out Rainbow Dash, “just tell us what it is.”

Trixie peeked into her hat, started to speak, then peeked back into her hat. There was a flash and a puff of smoke, and it appeared in her other hoof. “Trixie does not know,” she conceded, “but Trixie has found it and she is sure it is important.” She held a single page from an old manuscript.

Twilight gasped, snatched it away from the surprised Trixie, and showed it to Celestia. “I see white,” Twilight said in a hushed tone.

She hoofed it to Celestia, who answered, “Black…”

“I can’t read anything though, do you see anything?” Twilight inquired further. Celestia did not answer but trembled as her eyes moved across the page. The book was here? Instead of silence, she had received an answer.

She knew what she had to do. She buried her vision into the cracks of the ancient manuscript. The blackness of the page emanated out across its edges, covering the sights of the chamber and melding with the charred hide of her forelegs. It blotted out the others and closed in around her. Her world grew strangely flat as it melded with her from all sides and closed the gaps between her features. All dimensions were lost into blindness. All was still and formless, a total black emptiness. Something white appeared; it was not a portal, but a fullness that soon replaced the dark.

She felt a sharp prick on her skin that oozed a cold liquid. Something outside the plane of her existence seemed to intersect it and score her body with its tip. After it continued its work for a few moments, scraping on her and in her, she realized that the only parts of herself she could be sure existed were those the thing had touched. She felt it move over her whole frame, marking out the boundaries of Celestia, but still she could see nothing. Her eyelids came back into being and she stretched them wide in fear as the thing impacted her empty pupil and remained, oozing blackness. As the darkness spread it gave her sight to see a plumed shaft rising from the middle of her view. The thing was a quill pen made with a huge scarlet feather. It moved out into space and came back down to fill in her other eye.

The pen completed its work, an alicorn of purest white, a beautiful Princess. She looked out at an esoteric scene from where she lay on the page. Grasping back to reality, she turned away. She saw herself, standing in the crystal cave with Luna and Twilight. She was holding herself at the edges. Secure that she was still there, the disembodied Princess returned to the world of the artist.

The pen levitated through the air on unicorn magic. It was daylight there; water, air, and creatures stood unstirring. A row of pegasi stood grim and at attention along the edges of a causeway in the middle of a lake. The road was outlined with silver; within these polished bounds water was somehow trapped and solid. The glasslike causeway led on top of the lake and then up off the surface far into the air and towards the mountain, where it led into the cliff opening of the crystal cave. In the middle of her view stood the author. His pen, inkwell and paper-bound Princess hovered where he had levitated them. He was a mighty alicorn with a rich golden coat and a flowing white mane. The quill of the pen could only have come from the vein of red feathers in his wing.

He gazed at her intently; she apprehensively diverted her eyes from his. How could he exist? According to the ancient unicorn sages, he didn’t. Where could he have come from? The radiance of his magic around her alarmed her like the power that had undone her, but as much as she feared him she was drawn to him.

She scarcely allowed herself another glance at him. Instead, she studied everything around him, soaking as much as she could of the powerful stranger with her peripheral vision. Celestia watched the waves under his hooves and observed the pegasi behind him. She looked at those blocked by his flank and tail, and those near his chest; but even that was too close to his face. Above his towering form, stars shone clearly through the daylight in a pattern of spiraled arms.

Satisfied, he waved his horn, offering his utensils to someone behind Celestia. She moved backwards until she was also collected by a great clawed paw. Looking almost sideways off the manuscript, she saw the face of an enormous manticore. The fur of its face was a verdant green that offered a startling contrast to its crimson mane. Its ferocious and wild countenance was tempered by the wisdom of a long flowing beard and discerning eyes. The intelligent beast put the pen and inkwell into a small box that he carried, but continued to hold the portrait towards its source.

Her fear at being in the custody of a cunning predator grew when she realized that her artist was entrapped in heavy iron shackles that bound his limbs tightly together and held his wings fast against his back. However, he began to drag the chains down the prismatic road deliberately and at no signal from a captor. The manticore followed on his right hoof, trailing respectfully a few paces behind.

They traveled slowly and solemnly, hooves and paws thudding on the snared water. The chains clinked and clattered with each restricted step. As they walked up the ramp, the drawing of Celestia was lost in contemplation. Why was he in chains? She thought it had to be a willing sacrifice. The thought of someone being forced onto that platform was as unbearable as what she had tried to do. Yet if it was against his will, why had he brought her here?

They stopped, standing on the waterway, which hung in the air beside the cliff. The rows of pegasi, each wearing a strange emblem, hovered up and backed away to each side with gentle wingbeats. The manticore also retreated by a few backward strides. With a burst of magic, the alicorn burst free of his chains. The shackles ripped apart and the heavy links of chain snapped, sending out a small shower of iron. The fetters were either launched to the side, or landing on the causeway, clattered as they slid off and out of sight.

The magician stood tall and powerful, reaching above the manticore and filling the scene with his unfurled wings. The pegasi bowed in their suspended flight. Celestia was shown the ground as her carrier bowed and knelt. As it bowed, she thought she could see fear in even this toothy and intimidating face. “What is going on? Is the writer going to escape?” she wondered, even hoped, despite what she knew was true.

The beast stood back up and approached the magician once again, this time holding out a golden chest. The author took off ornaments of gold, silver, and solid crystal and placed them carefully into the chest. Lastly he relinquished a dazzling crown of green and blue crystals, greater than that which Celestia once bore with haughty pride. When each was placed in the chest, the manticore closed it and locked it securely with a key. The key had an ornate handle with markings of the sun and moon and a ring around it studded with small devices of the celestial bodies together—eclipses. It was only a glimpse and she could not count the eclipses.

With the formalities now completed, the alicorn strode into the enchanted cave and mounted the receiving platform, sitting inside its circle of hungry crystalline teeth. All of the gemstone was clear, glasslike, and empty. He beckoned, and she was brought to him. She moved her dimensionless body to place her hoof up against the surface of the manuscript towards him. He extended a powerful gold hoof and pressed it gently against hers. Across all logical boundaries, she felt the warmth of his touch. She still could not look him in the eye, but sensed him looking deeply into hers. He was not here by fear or despair; nor by coercion, nor by a lofty, detached duty to save the world. He was here for her. Distance through ages, the shroud of death, and strange dimensions melted before that simple truth.

She was torn away from the exchange by the manticore, who took her to the edge of the cavern a safe distance from the transferring platforms. The water of the causeway was suddenly released and fell out of sight or splattered on the cliff. Its silver borders wound and folded on themselves and soon were gone as well. He turned from her and faced the sun as it moved into place in front of the cave.

The pegasi outside took wing and swirled around the sun. Air and light bent into a tremendous vortex that flooded the chamber with a rush. Celestia feared that she would be ripped apart as the paper thrashed wildly in the wind, but the manticore insistently held her out towards a beautiful and horrifying sight. The author burned violently. Great ribbons of fire arced off his skin and into the surrounding crystals. The great being collapsed in agony as the crystals filled with radiant energy. As the crystals around him and those in the ceiling glowed inside so brightly they could not be distinguished from the sun, the author disappeared completely.

She was hastily shoved into the chest, and darkness closed over her. She closed her eyes and held her breath as layers of dust fell one after the other upon her. She absorbed huge drops of water that fell on her and crinkled her. And there she was, crying on herself, standing in the same place but a different time, staring longingly into a piece of old parchment.
She stepped back in disbelief. She stared, first at the empty sacrificial platform, then at the light in the crystal spike. It wasn’t trapped sunlight or some impersonal magic ether: it was his life. He died instead of her, he died as her. He knew all about her and what she had done, but he gave everything for her. Why? Living in the past, he certainly did not need her to light his world.

How did he even know she’d accept it? It was against the way she’d always lived. She’d tried to control and make things happen herself. The whole time, even when other ponies were more powerful than her and told her what to do, she thought she was in control. By playing her cards right and relying on the fact that everypony needed her, she was in control and she would save herself. She already knew her plan had failed—but to accept this she would have to submit to his plan.
She had always had a deep fear of being truly under someone else’s power. After Discord, she vowed she would never let it happen again. This was the author’s move. To take his gift, she would have to embrace that he had been in control the whole time, even though he was dead, and that he was still in control of her.

He was not letting her down gently—it was an other-worldly proposal. To take his life would link them in a way that she did not understand—but she did understand that it could not be undone.

How was she supposed to respond? She was ready to be healed and raise the sun, but she wasn’t prepared for something so personal.

“It doesn’t make any sense! Why would anyone do this for me? Why would he draw me as a beautiful Princess when I’ve always been this—a sick, twisted piece of shit who’s only been hurt and hurt others?”

She had just convinced herself to end it all, and now he wanted to give her life. “Why? I’m not worth it!” But could she really say now, “You were wrong?” She realized it would be the worst crime she had ever committed to insult this gift and turn it down.

It came down to whether she would trust him and his intentions, his knowledge, and his love. It was far more comfortable to trust herself. The truth was, he was saving her from herself, again.

“I agree,” she said aloud. “I…” she searched for the proper expression, “I do.”

Luna demanded, “What has happened, Celestia?”

“Now Trixie wants to know,” the show pony chimed in. Many bewildered eyes were on Celestia once again, but she seemed unable to speak.

Twilight stepped forward to say, “I think somepony already sacrificed their life.”

“Oh,” said Rarity, “You mean it wasn’t me? If it wasn’t me, who was it?”

Her bowed head dripping with tears, Celestia pushed the paper—now white to her eyes—back towards Trixie. “Thank you, Trixie. You don’t know what that means to me.” She sobbed, “Please keep it safe.”

Trixie took it and stashed in back in the chest. She put her hat back on and stood importantly over it.

Celestia tried to raise herself to all fours, but fell back down. “Put me back on the platform,” she insisted weakly.

“Who will join you?” Luna questioned.

“He’s already there,” the shriveled alicorn informed. “That’s why it didn’t work before.” She had misunderstood the book. In her ignorance she had tried to lie, cheat, and steal that which was offered freely as a gift.

Her sister objected, “But you’ll die!”

“I’ll die if I don’t, won’t I?” Celestia answered. With the ease of thought, the Princess lifted the limp little body onto the blackened stone slab.

Luna closed her eyes and breathed deeply. When she opened them again, they shone blue. Twilight, Trixie, and the magicians outside felt the subliminal signal to send out their energy again. The moon Princess’s horn glowed brightly, and she reached out once more. This time she strained harder, but the churning world of fire came back up over the mountains and the lake.

The harsh light poured in again and the searing radiation penetrated Celestia’s singed coat, threatening to finally roast her flesh. The “bringer of light” closed her eyes to shut it out as the crystal above grew brighter and brighter, until it was indistinguishable from the sun. A beam of white fire shot out from its tip and she cried out as it struck her and engulfed her. As she disappeared in the light, Celestia gave herself over to it, and felt herself die. She burned up entirely.

She opened her eyes.

Celestia took in the feeling and the reality of her impossible state. She was still there. She was in the fire, and the fire was in her. The heat was not painful but passionate and exhilarating. For a moment she felt disembodied and formless, lost in an element of bliss. The flames rippled and smoothed into a plasma that coursed over her skin, under her skin: it was her skin. The scar in her chest tore away from her and exploded into nothing. She felt weightless as she rose up on her hind legs and stretched out her wings. Her new horn just met the point of the crystal as the last of the immortal energy poured into her.

The pure white alicorn jumped off the platform and flew exuberant laps around the ceiling of the chamber. She came down at the mouth of the cave overlooking the water below and hopped youthfully through the sun’s warm rays, scarce casting a shadow. Her great body cooled and calmed. She stood and smiled innocently, letting the unfettered locks of her green, blue, and pink mane flow in all directions. She could have been content to remain there forever, but she remembered the world once again and turned to those who had remained with her.

Twilight had completely lost focus on her magic and her horn no longer glowed. “Dus--uh,” she stuttered, “—Celestia!” She bowed, and Rainbow Dash followed her example. Fluttershy’s big moon eyes peeked around Rarity.

Luna still filled the back of the chamber. While she was also moved by all that had happened, she was spending all her strength to keep the sun from plummeting back out of sight. Trixie stood in the corner perspiring profusely as she struggled to keep up her part of the massive task. Luna’s gaze stayed fixed on the mismatched heavenly body, but her mind was on her sister.

Celestia glanced at the image of the sun on her flank and back to her sister. She closed her eyes, and with a shining horn she bid it to remain aloft, and to slowly rise. The moon Princess let go of the burning light and watched it until she was satisfied that it would not fall.

“What are you doing?!” Trixie protested, “The great and powerful Trixie can’t hold up the sun all by herself!” She strained and howled before collapsing on the floor. The dawn persisted without her.

Celestia’s own happiness was dampened as she realized that Luna might not be happy to see her again. She waited eagerly for some sign of feeling from her sister, but received none. The Premier of the Republic stated coldly, “I have nothing to say to you while my soldiers are dying.”

“The war!” Celestia exclaimed, “It’s over!”

She galloped past Luna and through the chiseled corridor to the other side of the mountain. Luna, Twilight, and Rainbow Dash chased after her. The white alicorn burst from the entrance and leapt into the daylight sky. After a moment of shock, the soldiers that protected the approach raised their weapons against their arch enemy. “Don’t shoot!” boomed the Lunar leader, her voice echoing out of the mouth of the cavern. She watched as Celestia swooped heedlessly over the battle lines before pulling up to meet the Imperial Sovereignty. The NLR troops wavered, fearing her appearance as an ill sign. The Solar army cheered at her return. With the war’s nominal objective suddenly accomplished, they hesitated and took cover to wait for new orders.

Comments

[Kolwynia]

Brilliant. (I can't wait to see the aftermath of this.)

[Dawn Darkling]

So beautiful. The sacrifice needed was the most selfless and the most beautiful. ...And it was the one already made.