Wings of Tomorrow ~ Lament of the World

by Keeper of Jericho

7. The Prisoner of Canterlot

Wings of Tomorrow
Lament of the World

7. The Prisoner of Canterlot

Where had she gone wrong? What had she done that had resulted in this unthinkable disaster? Well, she supposed the answer to that was rather obvious: she had allowed Steel Gear free reign when he had showed up and introduced his wondrous inventions to ponykind. But was that her fault? She had no way of knowing that the inventor had been time-displaced. He had simply appeared to be an eccentric genius. Yes, his inventions were so advanced that it blew the mind of his fellow ponies at the time. But that wasn’t suspicious. Some of the spells Starswirl the Bearded had invented, back in his days, had been ridiculously far ahead of his time as well. And he had most certainly not been a time traveller. She had had no reason to suspect Steel Gear.

At least not until the years began to pass, every day ending with her having gained dual memories. One set of the day that had passed, and another, of the same day but in a different timeline. At first she deemed it but the result of a lack of sleep and the stress caused by dealing with her sister’s duties on top of her own. But it kept happening; day after day her memories expanded twofold. And as time passed, she finally realised the truth. Time was in disarray, history was changing, and thus she was gaining parallel memories. The memories of the day as she had experienced it, and the memories of how that day was supposed to be had time not been tampered with.

Parallel memories were a mysterious thing that even she didn’t fully understand, how could one receive memories of a time that had simply not come to pass? The mere existence of such a thing proved how fragile time really was, and how dangerous it was to interfere with it. The slightest change could have disastrous consequences. At best one could perhaps reach a closed paradox, but far more likely was that the flow of time would veer off-track and begin to run rampant. Which was, of course, precisely what had happened. When was she ever lucky when it came to important matters, after all? She should have seen it, but as powerful as she was, even she couldn’t see the future. But once she had caught on, she should have dealt with the matter and removed the distortion from the time stream.

But she hadn’t. It had taken her too long to understand what was transpiring, and even when she knew that time had been tampered with, she hadn’t immediately suspected Steel Gear. How could she, after all, when the colt did his utter best to remain hidden from her, preferring to pass his work to the masses through apprentices and accomplices? So when she finally had traced the source of the disruption back to him, it was already too late; Steel Gear’s influence had spread too far. The only way she could resolve it was by travelling back on the river of time herself and deal with the threat before it got out of hand. There was only one problem.

She lacked the proper means.

The irony was more bitter than anything she had ever tasted. She, Celestia, Princess of the Sun, ruler of Equestria, an alicorn capable of raising both the Sun and the Moon, the most powerful pony alive, lacked the proper means to deal with this. Despite all her power, all her wisdom, and all her possessions. But the ways of sailing the stream of time were a mystery, even to an alicorn. And she never had had any desire to do so. There simply wasn’t a spell that would let her go back in time. Yes, Starswirl had developed one, but it could only be used once and the time spent in the past was far too short for her to fulfil her mission. Less than two minutes to erase Steel Gear from an era where he didn’t belong. Utterly ridiculous. She would have to do so at the exact moment he arrived in the past, but she didn’t even know when that had been, or where.

No, she had been, for all intents and purposes, powerless.

But her folly hadn’t ended there. Instead of actively pouring research into a spell that would suit her needs, she had let things be. For she saw the wonders of Steel Gear’s inventions, and how her dear subjects benefitted from them and became prosperous. She was their ruler; she was supposed to at all times give them the best. How could she deny them progress when they benefitted so from it?

Words she now utterly despised. How could she have been so lax? She should have remained firm. She had a duty to the universe and its workings. Her love had blinded her, and she had paid for it dearly. Had she done what should have been done, then she would now not be here. Alone, isolated, in near-total darkness and complete silence, in a prison cell deep beneath the surface of Canterlot. Two chains on each leg, tying them down firmly to the floor. A cold, steel collar around her elegant neck, with four more chains, their ends embedded in the wall. Clamps on her wings to prevent her from unfolding them, nearly crushing the fragile structures in the process. Enchanted rings on her horn, and an uncountable number of sealing spells on her persona, ensuring that she would not have access to even the tiniest spark of magic.

A sigh escaped the broken alicorn’s lips. Her once snow-white coat was dirtied and looked unhealthy. The many colours of her once beautiful mane and tail looked muddled and filthy, and instead of billowing without wind due to the magical energies contained within her, they hung lifelessly from her body. Her body ached from being forced into the same position for years without end. Her shackles prevented almost all movement; she could barely turn her head, or move her body a few millimetres as she sat on her hunches.

Only once a year did she get the chance to stretch her legs, when they dragged her like a trophy through the streets of Canterlot, to receive all the spite and slander of her once loyal subjects. And once the torture and humiliation of the parade was over, she was taken back to her cell, and shackled once more. Not to move an inch until the next parade, or until one of the guards wanted to violate her again. Which, sadly, had happened too many times over the course of her imprisonment and no longer even cared when it happened. She was almost even glad to be able to shift her body into a different position for a change. Her physical form was too weak to resist in any case, the long time of malnourishment and lack of physical exercise having taken its toll.

Most of all, however, she missed the sunlight. She missed feeling the magical link between her and the bright day star. Her prison was almost totally dark, the only light being provided by a small chunk of luminite in the ceiling. It illuminated her dungeon just enough so she could see the walls or count the floor tiles. Which she did.

Numerous times.

She had names for all of them.

All six hundred thirty-eight of them.

In every language and dialect she knew.

Her captors assumed that she had lost all sense of time due to centuries of imprisonment in total isolation, without a single stripe of sunlight. But they were wrong. She was all too aware of how much time she had spent living in these shameful circumstances. She knew all too well how long she had been undergoing all the humiliation, be it the parade or having her female dignity stripped from her. Oh yes, Celestia knew. Three hundred and forty-eight years, one hundred and fifteen days, seven hours, twenty-nine minutes and thirty-six seconds, to be exact. Almost three and a half centuries spent in almost total isolation, and constant humiliation. The silence in her tiny prison was one of the most terrifying foes she had ever fought. No matter what she did or tried, it never gave up and it always came back to haunt her. At one point she had even taken to speaking to herself, or counting the floor tiles out loud, all in a mad attempt to keep the silence at bay.

The futile struggles of a ruined mare. She had long since given up the fight against the silence, instead letting herself be consumed by it. She hadn’t spoken for over half a century, made not a sound, aside from breathing or a sigh. It had the unintended but positive effect of unnerving the guards, meaning there had been less unwelcome visitors during her captivity, but even that could not possibly lift her spirits. Her captors saw her silence as a sign that they had finally broken her, that their victory over her was now complete. She resented the very idea, but did little to fight it, for she had little fight left in her. Her spirit was as much a wreck as her body was, and Celestia knew it.

In the beginning she had withstood the injustice by holding out hope that her subjects might yet see reason, that they would come to understand how terrible their actions had been. She had hoped that they would repent, and set her free on their own accord, of their own free will. And she would have forgiven them their crimes had they done so. But they didn’t care for her forgiveness, or for her at all. Too bitterly and cruelly had that been proven true when the only visitors she received came to torment her, be it mentally or physically. Her age long silence had begun to annoy her captors, and they had sought for ways to break it, though all had failed. All, except for the one hanging at the wall right in front of her.

It was nothing but a simple breastplate, more for decoration than protection, not unlike the golden one she had worn when she was still free. But this one was not golden, but silver, with a crescent moon in its centre. It hung from rusted nails on the wall, placed there for the sole purpose of taunting and mocking her. It was one of Nightmare Moon’s regalia, one of the few things that were left of her. She knew the traitorous vermin that held her here also possessed the dark alicorn’s helmet, just as Celestia knew that her corrupted sister would never have parted with the two relics willingly. That her captors now possessed it could mean only one thing.

But when they had come to show their trophies, to boast about their victory and the death of Nightmare Moon, it had not surprised her. In her heart, she had already known. She had felt it when her dear sister left this world, leaving her alone forever. She had felt Luna’s death, though reason bade her to ignore what her heart said to her. A stubborn part of her had refused to accept that an alicorn, even a corrupted one, could have met her end at the hooves of mere mortal traitors. But when they showed her their trophies, the reality of it all had come crushing down on her, and broke, at long last, her age-old silence.

Luna’s death had taken the last bit of life from her, immense grief and sorrow tearing her apart from the inside out. Even now, when nearly two years had passed since her sister’s fall, Celestia’s pain and agony had not eased. A mere glance at the breastplate on the wall was enough to bring forth the tears and make her weep again, which was undoubtedly why they had placed it in her cell. That was just the kind of torture they adored to subject her to. Simple, effective, and completely, mercilessly, and relentlessly cruel.

“Luna, oh, Luna…” she whispered as tears stained her dirty face. The once regal alicorn bowed her head, staring at the floor so she did not have to bear the sight of the relic of her sister. Words could not express her grief. She had loved Luna more than anything. She was her little sister, the one she took care of, the one who held the most special place in her heart. Banishing her beloved sibling to the moon had been the hardest decision of her life, but she had had no choice. The pain of seeing her sister so twisted by darkness had caused her to falter, all those years ago when she had confronted Nightmare Moon. Her connection to the Elements of Harmony had begun to wane, due to her own weakness. She hadn’t been able to wield them properly enough to free her sister from the clutches of the Nightmare.

She had failed Luna then, and she had failed her now. She hadn’t been able to save her little sister. Every single time, she had failed her. She should have seen how Luna struggled with herself, how the neglect of the night hurt the princess of the moon. But she hadn’t, not until it was too late. She had failed to prevent Luna from falling, from becoming corrupted. She had failed to save her from the clutches of Darkness. And now she had failed to save Luna from the cold embrace of death. She had been a terrible older sister, and Luna had deserved none of it.

The younger alicorn had always looked up to her. Celestia had always been her big, shining example. The one the smaller princess aspired to be like. Even her fall from grace had been caused by nothing but a desire to be like her big sister, to be loved and adored like Celestia was. Every misfortune that had befallen Luna was her fault, and Celestia was all too bitterly aware of it. And every time she looked up and saw that breastplate, now cold and naught but a battle trophy, she was reminded of that fact. She hadn’t been able to save Luna. She hadn’t even been able to avenge her only sister. No, she had failed Luna completely.

Big, salty tears fell to the cold floor of the cell. “Luna, I’m so, so sorry… little sister…” the broken alicorn whispered, while she quietly sobbed. “I couldn’t even say goodbye… My dear little Luna… I’m so sorry…”

But her words were spoken in vain, for there were none to hear them. She was alone, as she had been for three hundred and forty-eight years. Alone, wasting away in darkness, silence and maddening isolation.

End of chapter 7.

Author's Note:

Thanks to Raryn for editing.

Comments

[Hoof of Approval]

CELESTIA, NOOOO

WE WILL FREE YOU SOON MY PRINCESS

[Tricondon]

Well, this is horrifyingly dark.

Dear Celestia, I feel your pain and sorrow.

-Tricondon

[Reader Wolf]

Reaction

I mean, good Lord! That has got to be the darkest chapter yet!

[Thespurgin]

This must end. The lady of the sun has suffered far too long, and far too deeply. Technology is not always a blessing. Guns are technology.

Hmm... I anticipate a jailbreak and some steampunk twilight technomancy. YES.

[Chill Mists(Chilly)]

[Keeper of Jericho]

I really should put up a happy chapter before all my readers die from dehydration due to crying so much. XD

[Olpoe]

538829 yes, yes you should.

[Dead Turtle]

Man, this is sad. To be chained like that for so long... death would be a better option.

[cpl_scipio]

they... they made Princess Celestia cry...

[Wade]

Yeeshh

I've been a bit on the fence with this one until now, but I think this is where I'm gonna jump ship. I like the premise and a lot of the details of the world you've built quite a bit. Having an entire chapter devoted to watching Celestia reminisce about three hundred straight years of imprisonment and rape while chained up in a lightless vault sort of pushes it well out of being a particularly enjoyable read, unfortunately.

[Wayward Spiral]

To make it worse, if you think about it, if her dual memories are still being made, she has memories of Luna alive and happy after Nightmare Moon.

[Emperor of Jurai]

.... and every other cry cause noooooo that is.

Oh I hope the ponies that are in charge of this 'republic' end up dying in the worse possible way

But yeah the rape part really slammed and broke my rage button into the on position. I=<

[Fury of the Tempest]

... That was crushing.

[Kauetheadventurer246]

When I had first finished this chapter and hoped that by the end of this story, that she would finally be freed. At the same time however, another thought followed soon after: Is freeing Celestia really make things better?

The more I think about it, the more it make sense that freeing Celestia is a really bad idea. The reason I think that is because all those years of humiliation, rape, Torture both physically and mentally can change anyone. Also the fact she had learned her own sister had died two years ago by the same ponies that betrayed her... I think if she is ever freed and regain her magic, she won’t be the same pony in the original timeline or try to fix things. Instead... I believe all she would want is to punish and destroy every single pony, wether they deserve it or not in a fit of rage.