Civil Distinction

by SpitFlame

Chapter 12: The Final Plan—Price of a Soul

The light from the candles waned to small flickers when Luna entered the room. She took two steps forth, then stopped, seeming fixed to the ground. There was resolution in her expression. The same resolution, although somewhat worn down from trepidation, shone in Corvo's eyes. Everyone in the room felt like something disturbing, an abomination of events, was about to take place.

For a whole dizzying minute, perhaps a bit less than that, Luna, Corvo, and Serath stared each other down without a word. Corvo's frame of mind suddenly changed.

"Where were you?" he asked, trying best he could to conceal his trepidation. "I mean... look, you embarrassed your sister. What happened?"

"Do you take me for a fool?" said Luna, looking him straight in the face.

"What?"

Luna broke into a bitter laugh at such a minimal reply. "Is that it? 'What?' Do you think nothing would pass between you and that accursed book?"

"Wait a bit, stop," Serath rushed in, "we better not speak over one another. This is not what you think, Luna, I can assure you of that."

"Really? Then what is it?" she said, menacingly enough to give Serath a start.

"I mean, we are still attempting to answer that question ourselves," said Serath.

"Then let us answer it," said Corvo curtly. "Be honest, Luna, there is no need for animosity: you never lost your memories of Sombra, did you? When he was defeated, you still remembered helping him. Am I wrong?"

"So that happens to be the theory? This is what you and Discord chased after?" A shadow passed over Luna's face. She exhaled loudly. "I thought you were wiser than this, Corvo."

"How do you mean: wiser?"

"What exactly did you suppose your theory would entail? Find the book and expose my wrong-doing?"

"No, Luna. No. I never meant to entail anything. I am searching for the truth, nothing more."

"Oh?" Luna snarled. She became noticeably cross. "Tell me, oh great Seeker of Truth, to where do you intend to take that book?"

"I need you to sit down, we have a lot to talk about."

"Answer the question!" replied Luna in bitter reproach.

It should be noted that, up until now, Corvo was making a conscious effort to respond with calm and reserve. Last thing he needed was for things to escalate anywhere beyond threats. "There is something," he was processing in his mind, "something that she knows, that I do not. I need to uncover what that is."

"Luna, sit, I implore you," said Serath, slowly raising his arms and pointing to a nearby chair.

"You are all so very dishonourable," Luna continued, with disregard for him. "Only an hour ago I felt afraid to find you both, afraid even to touch my hooves on these very floors, where the illusion took place. But no, I can no longer stand it! Why did you have to come back? Why?" she cried all of a sudden, in a frenzy, turning back to Corvo.

"This is not your fault, Luna," said Corvo firmly. "For pity's sake, this is literally not your fault. You were under a spell, a hallucination of some sort. True, we were going to show your sister these messages, but perhaps we may reach an arrangement, meet somewhere in the middle. We can help you, Luna." He took a step forth, a strained smile spreading on his face. "There is no need to vent your anger. I understand, understand it only all too well. No one will be harmed."

"R-right!" Serath, seizing the opportunity, barely stammered in. "The emotional scars you have developed must be dreadful, and so, to carry the burden of obedience under Sombra, it is only natural to feel neurotic. We will not make light of it. Corvo and I are your friends. We have become friends, that is."

"Your sister does not need to find out, at least not today, or tomorrow," said Corvo again. "We will go at your own pace. Simply put, do not get angry with yourself, and especially not at us. Come, sit, tell us about this book."

"The last few pages," said Luna, in a drawling, breaking voice, "they are not lies. Everything you read there is absolutely true, to the very last stroke. I've been to see King Sombra. It was him, him who persuaded me to destroy myself," she continued, still addressing Corvo. "That moment, within the illusion, he and I shared a whole hour together, separate from you and my sister. Can you imagine that? Just me and him, you and my sister being helpless to stop it." The corners of her lips were trembling. Corvo and Serath started at her tone, at the sheer audacity of her words. Serath, and especially Corvo, did not expect such intimate bluntness from her.

"Well, that's enough, anyway," Luna cut her ravings short. "I simply can't let you leave."

"Wait, no, back up," said Corvo in surprise. "What did you just say? You spent an hour with Sombra, in the illusion, or something along those lines. Did I get that right?"

"Do your memories fail you, Corvo? Us three arrived at the foyer, the illusion began to collapse, and that, I assume, is when you awoke. Tell me, did you wake immediately after my sister and I disappeared?"

"A handful of seconds later, I suppose."

"And yet a noticeable missing link sticks out: the time when you broke free from the illusion and the time my sister and I did the same. Time dilation is a particularly tricky subject."

"So we perceived time differently? What of it?" But a thought suddenly struck Corvo, and his legs went cold. "Wait, now it makes sense. After you disappeared, right before Celestia woke up, Sombra created an hour-long juncture between you and him. Is that how it worked? We were frozen in time, and Sombra used the opportunity to bend you to his will?"

"I am so sorry that happened to you," said Serath quietly, pondering on Corvo's words. "I am sure you resisted his magic then. But a whole hour, with no one else but you and him—well, you could not have done anything in a realm where he reigned supreme."

"What in Equestria are you two doing?" asked Luna with a flat, constrained voice, as though she were on the breaking point of losing any and all patience; quiet anger flashed in her dark eyes. "Are you... Corvo, Serath... really think I'm this daft? Are you both mocking me? Will you keep pretending that I'm the victim, will you ignore the facts for the convenience of your own situation?"

"And just what are we ignoring?" asked Corvo. "Look, we wish to help you—"

"If you want to die then just keep talking!" Luna roared with all her might, and sparks of magic shot from her horn.

Corvo and Serath looked at her speechless, their eyes fastened on her dangerously glowing horn. At least another half minute of silence passed. Their faces were working with calculated apprehension, one could tell my merely gazing at them. Serath began sweating, the blood was rushing to his face, he did not know what to do.

Corvo, much to his disappointment, knew exactly what Luna was referring to, and he had hoped it did not come to this. Suddenly all traces of evident worriment left him, and he quite unexpectedly assumed a more assertive and irritated look. Noticing this change, Luna had calmed down somewhat.

"You have already been informed on all that is relevant," she faltered at last. "Those last pages are all true, and I conversed with King Sombra for an hour—not a simple minute or two, which would be more than enough time for a mind-control spell to take effect—but the full extent of sixty minutes. You—tell me—what happened."

"Fine. Just... fine. There never was any mind control," said Corvo slowly, throwing all caution to the wind. "In that hour-long juncture Sombra succeeded in convincing you to join him in his schemes, to cast aside all past relations and work undercover to overthrow the very foundations of Equestria. That was the plan with his black smoke. It was the master plan all along."

Serath's face went pale. He looked at Corvo, then back at Luna, his mind utterly scrambled.

"Luna, you..." he began, hesitating, as though forgetting how to speak. "You chose to join Sombra? You... you chose to betray us, to betray your sister, to betray your world? Clearly you are mistaken, or you have been misled. There is no way this is you. This is all—I mean, it is all unworthy, the very suggestion is unworthy."

Luna kept on with her fixed, solemn, and pedantic posture; her face had a look of blank aimlessness, as though she had lost some train of thought or other, and the fixed stare in her eyes was unpleasant, in spite of their glowing expression.

"I truly, truly dreaded this possibility," said Corvo bitterly and with hard emphasis. He frowned once more. "But everything pointed to this, did it not? Why revere reality when it inflicts so much tragedy?"

"I presume you both would like to know why," Luna practically rung out almost mechanically. Unbeknownst to her, however, her eyes had started to become noticeably red, round the pupils, that is, as if they were bloodshot.

"So this really is the truth?" said Serath, his countenance reflecting his grim surprise. "Go on, Luna. Why? Why this? Why now? I would rather this all be just one big misunderstanding."

Luna's lips twitched for an instant, and right after she said boldly: "I cannot say, Serath. I don't know the reason for doing what I did."

Corvo and Serath nearly had a collective fit. They tensed up, not knowing what to expect now, feeling irrevocably that they were in the wrong place, and that reality was misconstrued. But, in time, Luna remained in her position, and both men were in states of apprehensive disbelief.

"What the hell did you say?" asked Corvo at length, in extreme agitation.

"Should I repeat myself!" exclaimed Luna, with feeling she could not repress. "Did you not understand?"

"So, you confess to treachery," began Corvo in venomous reproach, "and you have the gall to behave like that? What in the absolute hell are you thinking? What is going on in that head of yours?"

"Hey, hey, hey," Serath cut in, taking particular notice of Luna's strange irritation, "did you really think you could get away with that? Please tell the truth, I beg of you. This is no time for further deceit. You can no longer run away, Luna," he ended with shades of desperation betrayed on his face.

"Unimaginable catastrophes have occurred—because of me," broke from Luna in a voice not her own; she was unwell, judging by her glittering eyes. Her lips were strangely compressed like a thread. "My emotions have been left unchecked, and—and this is what I get? What do you want from me?"

"We want the truth, you damned traitor," snapped from Corvo angrily. "Either you testify, or to hell with the stupid arrangement. Talk!"

"I don't know why!" cried Luna; every feature on her face was twitching and working, like she were in a sort of frenzy. "Sombra sat me down, he talked to me, he paid attention to every word, every breath, that escaped my mouth. He confirmed everything my subconscious sought after, he even explained this fact to me, and confirmed even that. Then, there in the illusion, he made me feel like he understood the whole of my existence, like he comprehended every thought that has ever sprung from the recesses of my mind. The jealously of my sister, my form of Nightmare Moon, my nightmares—the nightmares above all else! Every objection I held he assured me with something, he promised me so much... at the expense of my sister, of Equestria... and yet, on top of it all, his words felt good, they felt meaningful, they felt right. I joined him. There. I made an effort to undermine all of our attempts to defeat him, because I wanted to see myself the way he saw me. It is all based on perspective, and he destroyed mine. In hindsight, I have no idea what persuaded me. I don't know, Corvo. I don't know, Serath. In hindsight, I don't know what came over me. Perhaps it was a deep-seeded spitefulness which possessed my spirit. Perhaps I chose evil out of pure spite, because feeling dissatisfied with my state of existence was exactly what satisfied me. Perhaps I joined him out of idleness borne from resentfulness, I was resentful, and to idle is a vice. But nothing comes to me. There is no logic anymore, no facts, just my response and the shadows covering it. I... I... don't know why. I don't know why I joined him."

She stopped short with a catch in her throat.

"What kind of depraved joke are you playing?" said Corvo through his teeth. "To defy your own sister and assist in the genocide of your country just because—because—because what? He promised you something that you wanted? Was it freedom? Retribution? Were you lonely, or complacent, or what? Eh, the devil! This is all too surreal. You're sick, Luna! You must be sick in the head!"

"But then you—you actually did it?" said Serath, and felt himself that he spoke against his will. He face became deathly pale. "This whole time you kept quiet and deceived us? That is so cruel!"

"Say what you like, it's nothing but a vice," said Luna with suffering. "Back in the garden, Corvo, I laughed. Do you recall? I laughed and I begin to understand why. Every second of our journey I bore the burden of treachery, I knew it well, the repugnance of my actions was right in front of me, but I still kept the act, wearing the mask of companionship, every solitary second. I wanted something—perhaps it was a little piece of me taken away when I was first banished to the moon—I betrayed my sister in the name of sheer, subconscious spite. I can only laugh at the outcome. Everything is cruel."

"This cannot be happening," Serath let spill out, almost trembling, as though with great effort. "Luna, for three days straight did we not endure the thick and thin together? Did we not share the same roof, face the same dangers? Were we not together in times of comfort, both uneasy and soothing? Each day or night I awoke I was put at ease by the company of you ponies. I enjoyed the conversations we had, the stories we shared during the high tides. If it were not for you, and your sister, and the others, who knows what would have become of my sanity, trapped in a magical realm with death standing at the door. But you..."

"How did you do it, Luna?" said Corvo. "Back in the locomotive, when we slept throughout the day: to think that you could sleep like a log—right next to your victims. How did it feel?"

"Was everything a lie?" asked Serath pedantically, stepping forward. "How can I be so sure this scenario is simply not another act? And when we first met—did you lie as well? When you told me about yourself, your history, your interests—were you lying to me then, too? Was it all... just a lie? Was it? You... just what were you thinking this whole time? Go on, answer me. What was the point? What were you trying to prove?"

"She probably doesn't know as well," replied Corvo with hidden vehemence. "Take my word for it, Luna, I have been on the receiving end of betrayal before, but never anything like this. None of this matters anymore. Whatever it is you were thinking, forget it. Why should I care what you pretended to be? This was your choice, your own free will; you are entirely complicit in your own demise. You are a traitor to all of Equestria."

"N-no!" cried Luna, boiling up again. Hot tears began gushing from her eyes. "Tell me who then. You, Corvo; you, Serath; tell me who chooses to be this! What do you think I am exactly? Do you think this is what I aspired to be? Do you think I enjoyed it? If the ponies found out they would loathe me—and they would have every right to. I am a monster. I deserve to die for what I've done. I can live a thousand years and still not know peace, never again can I atone for my sins. Please, please try to imagine such unspeakable darkness. I have tried everything, but what little respite is there for me?" Suddenly her whole expression and voice changed, as though she had unburdened her soul with this outburst of sudden emotion and was growing kinder with every word. "But it was never a lie! Do you understand? I enjoyed your company, Serath, more than the others. I truly thought of you as a friend. I never meant for it to be an act, only... now I'm not so sure anymore."

"Shut up!" yelled Corvo in extreme anger. He whipped out his folding sword, and his Mark glowed brightly. "Get the hell out of my way, or I will do to you what I did to Sombra."

"The door is locked," said Luna in a low voice, as though depleted from all her energy. "And I cannot allow you to leave, after all that I have told you, there's no alternative."

"Wha—! What the hell is that supposed to mean? Open the damned door! You have a grand total of one second to let us out, or else. What, you think this is a bluff? Ha! You must be more deranged than I thought. I take no issue in killing you, Luna. If the need arises, I will cut you down."

There was a short pause in which nothing happened.

"Fine," said Corvo; he froze time to a complete halt. He quickly closed the gap between him and Luna, and, raising his sword, swung across her neck with the intent to decapitate her.

When the metal of the blade made contact a blue web of electricity materialized, pushing back whatever was opposite of it; the sword, along with Corvo, was mildly thrown back. The blue electricity covered Luna's body for a moment, then it rapidly died down.

"What the hell..." said Corvo to himself. He struck again, and again his sword bounced back. He repositioned himself in front of Luna and, with all his might, jabbed his sword directly into her eye; but now the protective magic barrier covered her face. In the span of ten seconds he swung at her at least a dozen times, until a shower of blue sparks filled the air.

A pain struck his chest, and the glow of his Mark started to wane.

Luna's horn was still glowing. Time began to move now, slowly and pedantically. Her face rotated to face him, and little by little her horn charged up.

Corvo's face was completely aghast. He shot a look at Serath, then back at Luna—her horn was encompassed with a raging blue flame; it started to get faster and faster as his Mark died down.

Without a second thought Corvo turned round and dashed to the back of the library, not before attempting to grab hold of Serath. But within the two steps he took he heard a deafening explosion behind him. A nerving shock washed over his body, his heart skipped a beat, and his Mark turned black.

When time resumed an unimaginable force, something like shockwave, blasted from Luna's horn, destroying everything in its path. Corvo and Serath were launched backwards, along with the flying bookshelves and tables; the former instinctively lit his Mark once more, slowed time about halfway, and teleported to the far end of the library. He tripped, time resumed, and a bookshelf tumbled over and stopped just above him.

A cacophony of crashes and destruction drew closer, for a few seconds, waves of dust and debris spewed in every direction, then the sounds of the leftovers of a demolition remained.

For at least a whole minute Corvo did not move, waiting for silence to take place.

How did I forget? thought Corvo, ignoring all the pain in him as a result of the crash. It is almost impossible to kill an alicorn. I need to get out of here.

With a heavy grunt he flipped over onto his stomach, and began to crawl out from under the bookshelf. The ceiling was cracked in several places, and two pillars were knocked down. All the windows were broken. Piles of ruined furniture and books littered about the place.

The library had been obliterated.

First of all, Corvo went on thinking, making sure to be as quiet as possible with his movements, I need to find Serath. He lit his Mark, activating his Dark Vision, looking searchingly all about the place; in no time he spotted Luna's figure at the other end of the room; she was moving in his direction, likely looking for them. Damn it, not now. I need to... I... gah! Blood spilled from his mouth, and his headache returned with twice the force. He fell down, panting like his life depended on it, and flipped over onto his back. That attack was worse than he imagined. But something else was coming over him, something dreadful and possibly even fatal.

"I know you are still alive, Corvo," he heard Luna's cold voice call out. Soon enough the fall of her hoof-steps came within hearing range. "Come out."

Very carefully now Corvo rose on one knee, holding onto a nearby piece of furniture for support. He made his way round another pile of splintered wood and rubble. He needed to get further away from her.

"What the..." he whispered to himself, unable to contain his thoughts. "Ser... Serath?" There was an arm sticking out indistinctly from beyond a corner, flat on the ground, utterly still as if chiseled out of stone.

With what felt like a burst of renewed energy Corvo hurried his legs, down the path he saw the body. He found Serath lying still, stretched out rather uncomfortably, his back slightly inclined against a bent table.

"Serath, get up. We need to leave," whispered Corvo more frantically, bending low and snatching his sleeve. His heart was pounding so violently that he could practically hear it.

But then it hit him: Serath was far too motionless. Not the slightest rustle was audible, nor the slightest breath. Corvo stared, feeling that the more he stared, the more deathly and quiet the room became. And he finally, with a shudder, focused, not on the body, but on a giant planck of wood, likely from the ceiling, which had fallen down vertically; it pierced right through Serath's torso like a kabob stick, even breaking a bit into the ground beneath him. There was very little (if any) blood, but Serath's eyes were open and colourless.

Corvo, in his state of extreme ambivalence, all around in disorder, processed these facts before his very eyes, and his knees gave in; he stumbled away and fell back down on his back.

At first a trembling sensation disturbed Corvo's whole being; he felt ice cold and weary. He was straining to align his mind with the current moment—with what mattered—but he could not control the scrambling of his conscious. He wasn't sure what to think anymore, and every second the pounding of his heart added to the growing vagueness of his mind. His perturbed state was, at last, only broken by the return of Luna's hoof-steps, which sounded closer this time.

It all came back to him. He was in the now. He understood everything at once.

"Hey, Luna..." he started out loud, raising himself on an elbow. His face was white with an unnatural rage. There was a ten second pause in which he said nothing, and Luna carried on with her advancement. But she was listening. He knew she was listening very attentively.

"Luna," Corvo began to continue suddenly, as if there was never a pause, "you lying piece of filth. Always going off on how we ought to trust one another, never shutting up about how it is our duty to stick together to the very end. You played us all for fools, huh? And here I took you for an honourable pony, a pony who remained calm under pressure, a pony who would put her friends before herself. That all must have been a joke to you. Well, was everything a joke? And I... to think that I, at some point, considered even you a friend. Just... you... you are—just—an absolute abomination, the worst, on all levels. No one, no pony, could ever hope to compare. Listen, Luna... I cannot see you right now. I have no idea what sort of face you're making right now, what you can possibly be thinking. But all I want you to know is that... you truly are the worst piece of filth." Corvo pushed on both elbows now, rising up. His voice became louder, more pronounced. "I bet throughout the history of Equestria—no, of ponykind, there has never been a pony as terrible as you. I could likely search through all of your history books and never encounter someone a fraction as evil as you." As he spoke he finally stood straight, his eyes burning insidiously. "Are you listening to me, you murderous, conniving traitor? All this time... all this premeditating... are you happy with the results? I hope you're pleased with yourself, the miserable hypocrite that you are—otherwise what was the point? Damn you... damn you to hell!" He took out his sword, and his Mark lit up. "Just thinking about you makes me want to vomit. The very image of your face is enough to sicken any decent pony. You are the greatest mistake this world has ever known. You don't deserve death. You deserve worse, infinitely worse. You are a psychotic, back-stabbing murderer, an oversized pest, a revolting specimen of a pony. The universe would have benefited if you never existed in the first place. Everything would be better off without you. Nightmare Moon was your fault—you deserved worse than mere banishment—that was your true self. If you never existed everyone would be happier; your sister would have been happier; Equestria as a whole would have progressed much more than it has now. Your entire presence is an existential threat to everypony's survival. You are—the absolute—worst! Your existence is the culmination of sin itself. Wasteful trash like you should not be allowed to exist. What right had you to come into this world? You're an embarrassment to all of us, a blight. You need to die! You have to die! Right now!"

With supernatural force he, at first teleported, then struck Luna square in the face. The magic barrier caught his strike, the blade cracked and snapped in two, and he was blown back. Corvo used the momentum to slide on his feet and came to a halt. The upper piece of his sword, now broken like a barbed razor, clanged on the ground.

"I need to erase you!" he cried in a fit of untold wrath. The sparks and glow emitting from his Mark bent and contorted the air round his hand; paths of heat connected from his Mark to the smoking candles scattered on the floor. His hand was smoking.

Luna composed herself with the air of utmost nonchalance, as a pony who was only interested in getting this business over with. One could not tell by a simple glance what she was thinking.

Corvo hurled the handle of his blade at Luna, and right as it bounced off her horn, he flicked his wrist, and a wave of red flames swallowed her whole. She was consumed in a miniature explosion, objects of all sorts were combusted near her. Corvo held her there with a struggle; he raised his arm and put even greater pressure to increase the temperature, until it was too great for even him to bear. At last he ceased the assault, the fire evaporated, and Luna stood there, unharmed amid scorched ground and flames.

"Give up," said Luna imperiously. "You cannot hope to kill me. Once I deal with you no pony will have heard of this."

"You really think things will pass that easily?" Corvo spat out, his face covered in sweat.

"Yes, I do. You will not escape me. Now hold still..." Luna concentrated all her magic in her horn and aimed it dead-set at Corvo.

So this really is the end for me? he thought. It seemed, in the moment, that all of that burning rage had left him, wasted in that instant. He felt more at ease now, and things began to slow down. He wanted to move, to at least slow down time again and avoid her attack, but he couldn't bring himself to it. He realized there was nothing he could do, that with all his strength, all his magic, he would never defeat Luna in a battle. Corvo had nothing left.

"Wait," he said at length, breathing heavily.

Luna cocked her head back. Her horn was now fully charged, but now she remained still, looking at him as if in disbelief.

"Huh?" she said. "Are you begging for your life now? Why wait?" When he said nothing, a smile contorted on her lips. "Well, this is charming; let me play along. Wait for what, Corvo? Wait for me to change my mind? Wait for two or three more seconds of life? Wait to think up of any last prayers? I never took you for someone so weak. I thought you were the type of cold-blooded killer who would stoically accept his death. But your last words are 'wait' and nothing more?" she added, chuckling.

"No," Corvo drawled out. "Wait for me to catch my breath."

A change quickly came over Luna's face. She blasted a magical projectile at Corvo; but he used his Mark to teleport, reappearing not too far away behind a pile of rubble. She noticed his location at once and strode over to him. He was stumbling on his legs, struggling even to get up.

"This truly is amusing," said Luna, charging her horn again. "I expected more of you. You tell me to wait because you can't stand to see it all end?"

"You already killed my friend," said Corvo, taking steps back. "I am not going to die today."

"So what was all that about 'erasing' me?" Saying this, Luna suddenly wrapped her magic round Corvo's arms and legs, holding him in place. He tried to force himself free, but to no avail. His Mark was finally burnt out.

"All that projecting," Luna went on, "and nothing came of it. There is no point in delaying the inevitable. No pony will come to your rescue."

"I will."

An unknown golden flash arose from all round the room; the magic which had bound Corvo instantly vaporized, along with whatever else Luna's horn was producing. She yelped, blinded by the bright light, and fell over. Corvo, too overcome by the moment, attempted to escape, but he unfortunately tripped and caught himself with his elbows. He shielded his face with his arm.

Eventually their blurred vision returned to normal, and the intense light vanished. Princess Celestia stood there, her own horn aglow.

"I stopped by your room, in case you forgot," she told Corvo with a concerned frankness. She cast a glance at Luna, who was shocked at the sight of her sister.

"How much have you learned?" asked Corvo.

Celestia hesitated to answer, then replied: "Enough."

"You could have intervened a while ago," Corvo spat out, walking very slowly across the room. "Find the grey book, read it." He paused; every fiber on his face was contorted into anger, but he could not verbally express it. He sighed heavily and said: "I am not coming back again. Ever." He stopped at the door. "Do me a favour, would you? Find Serath's body. He is back there. Find him."

"Serath's body? What do you—? Oh... I... I understand."

"Bury him for me, or for yourself. Do what you must."

"Sister, please..." Luna rung out, as though she were a peasant pleading to a king.

She felt a jolt go up her spine when Celestia gave her a deathly stare, not one meant to instill fear, but quite the contrary, Celestia wished to display evident goodwill and indiscreet curiosity, but she could not handle her conflicted emotions. Her eyes were glittering; she looked ill from anxiety.

"I can't even ask you why," said Celestia in a constrained voice, her throat tightened. "You confessed to everything. There's nothing left for me to do; I can't defend you, Luna."

"B-but... no, above all else, no," whispered Luna, now visibly sobbing.

"Go ahead, decide her fate," said Corvo firmly, but his voice failed him. He turned the door open and left, without looking back.

"Do you understand... do you?" Celestia now, too, began to silently weep. "I'm sworn under oath to never lie before a court. And do you have any idea what the Supreme Court of Equestria will say? Well, do you!"

Luna was silent. Her countenance reflected shades of extreme bitterness. She dropped her head, her eyes lifeless and cold.

"You don't want to prate, do you?" said Celestia, after a pause. "To think this all passed under my nose. Luna, you committed treason in the highest order. You murdered Serath. You lied to me. The best I can do is spare you the public scrutiny."

"H-huh?" Luna looked up with a pathetic look.

"I'll have to pass down your judgment on the spot, and carry it out myself." With every word spoken Celestia's whole figure faltered more and more, as though merely standing straight became a struggle; she looked exhausted, mortified, and her eyes betrayed a shaken spirit. One would guess she was evidently depressed, and hated herself for it.

Luna was intensely surprised by her sister, who, as time went on, gradually became ill-faced and spoke more dejectedly.

"There is no way I can sugarcoat this," said Celestia gloomily. "It will stand as my obligation to... I... I'll have to banish you to... the moon again."

Luna's eyes flashed. She suddenly jumped up, her mouth agape in horror.

"You can't do that," she said quickly, smiling nervously. "No. N-no, no, you would never resort to that."

"The last time you were banished it was predicated on attempted treason. What you have done now is significantly worse," the tone of Celestia's rung out almost in an echo, as though she had more to say but could not bring herself to it. "I'm sorry. I really am."

"No!" cried Luna, spreading her wings and flying straight past Celestia with the intention to escape; but her sister swiftly seized Luna with her telekinesis, and pinned her down.

"Let me go! Let me go right now!" Luna was in a a frenzy, almost to the point of madness. The sheer grimness on her face indicated a feeling that the world was going to end tomorrow.

"Why are you fighting? How do you think I feel? There's nothing left for me!" said Celestia through her teeth, doing the best she could to hold back tears. "The Supreme Court would give you nothing less than an execution. I won't let them kill you. I won't!" She stopped to strengthen her magical hold, as Luna now activated her own magic to fight back.

"I won't go back there!" cried Luna again, breaking into a sort of pale, hysterical ecstasy. Her whole body shuddered violently. "I spent a thousand years in that torture! I was trapped within my own mind, with nothing to entertain me but my consciousness, for a millennium! I refuse to go back!"

"There's no choice for you!" Celestia yelled this time, breathless. "Do you think I want this? What kind of sister would I be? I'm sorry, do you understand? I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She leaned in closer, the corners of her lips trembling.

"If you truly are sorry," reproached Luna with a solemn, insulted, and tearful voice, "then make an excuse. Please! Anything! Just... just... say something!"

"I have nothing to say! You did this to yourself. Corvo was right on that: this was your choice."

Luna's heart turned cold at those words, and she froze. At the same time, as soon as she ceased her struggle, Celestia jumped on the opportunity and channeled her magic into Luna's horn; Luna gasped when there was a small discharge of light, and she fell limp, unconscious.

Celestia's face suddenly darkened, a stricken look came into her eyes. She took a step as though to go out of the room. In one instant there was no trace left of her tears. She underwent a sort of transformation, in which she stared at her sister for a long time, as though regretting what she had done.

She rushed impulsively to Luna, and seizing both her hooves, pressed them warmly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm... sorry... I..." Her breathing was coming out in rapid exhales. She could hear her heart beating.

Celestia closed her eyes, willing her body to remain at ease. She had to get this done quickly, before everypony in Equestria found it, before she had a heart attack just trying to reconcile these new facts.

"I'm sorry," she said again, barely able to enunciate these words.

* * *

Corvo almost stumbled out of the mirror. It was slightly cracked in the corner, but nothing too damaging.

He walked forth slowly, in a state of two minds. He was back home, but it took a second for him to realize how barren the room had become. All the furniture, the billiard table, the bookshelves, the candles—they were all gone. Every square inch of his wall paper had been torn down as well, leaving him in a hollow room made of planck wood.

He peeped out of the billiard room, analyzing the rest of the hallway and living room. Everything had been taken apart, including the frames and glass panes which had comprised his windows. His entire house was gutted, and all that was left relatively intact were the few embers emitting from his hearth.

A cold gust of window rolled in from the window opening. Corvo heard voices outside. He used his Dark Vision and indeed confirmed two other figures seemingly waiting by the outdoor stairs.

"Unfortunate, isn't it?" said the Outsider, who had just now materialized in front of him.

"The least of my worries," said Corvo, striding back to the billiard room. He took out his metal mask, stared hard at it for a second; the glass eyes responded with a cold gleam, almost like it were staring right back into his soul. He placed it on the ground, carefully, as though it could break easily.

"What are you doing?"

"I need to leave, Outsider. Get as far away from this confounded city as possible. I knew this would happen. It was only a matter of time until they discovered my true identity."

The Outsider raised a dubious eyebrow, and he smirked. "Oh? If that is the path you choose, Corvo, so be it. I had my fair share of fun, by the way, watching you in Equestria. Quite the fascinating twist. How do you feel about Serath now? He has a family waiting for him."

"No need to remind me." Corvo went back out to the living room, slowly as to not make any sudden noises.

"So you choose to run away from your actions? I never expected such an abdication of responsibility from you."

"I never said that," said Corvo strangely, like he wanted to sound angry but could not find the energy to do so.

"Really? So what do you make of all this? I suppose an investigation will take place, a search party even. And then, upon discovering the truth, Serath's wife and children will weep for years to come. And you, Corvo, will now be revealed to all as the Wandering Stranger. You might be blamed—for everything."

"Let society have it. I will leave everything behind me, including my mask. Where is Fredric Apollinov?"

"You think he concerns me?"

"No. Forget it."

Corvo summoned the glow from his Mark. The burning remnants of his hearth vanished into smoke for a moment, then it sprouted into brighter and bigger flames. The fire latched onto the adjacent wall, sweeping over it like a melting blanket.

"Are you sure about this?" asked the Outsider in mild surprise.

"I need to burn everything. Everything." He swept his left hand and dragged the fire across to the ceiling and floor. He waited for at least thirty seconds until the burning flames became noticeable. "Well, that is that. Time to go."

He quickly walked to the back of his house, which was progressively being filled with smoke. He heard voices behind him, from outside: "What the blazes! Something's wrong! Hey, fire! Fire!" and "Bloody hell, what the—! Damn it! Get back, get back! We need the others first! Wait here! Bah, damn it all!"

Corvo went through a back postern door, up a staircase, and out again on a stone balcony. Using what little power he had left in his Mark he teleported down onto the balcony of another house, up to the roof, and he ran as far as he could, sprinting against the wind, leaving behind the shouting voices. He parted from the world, done for he was afraid.

* * *

Epilogue

It was the beginning of January. There had been a hard frost, without snow; but despite the weather ponies' schedule, a little snow had fallen on the frozen ground of the castle garden. It was night time now, and a keen wind was lifting and blowing it among the dreary trees and grass.

A lone pegasus guard stood solitary beneath the largest tree in the middle of the garden. Besides him was a small mound of earth, solitary just like the guard. There was nothing on it save for a single daisy. The dirt, which was darker than the rest of the ground round it, stuck out like a sore thumb. It gave the garden an odd look—and not for the better.

The guard was there on, what was described to him, "very urgent business." He was evidently waiting for somepony, and he had been waiting still, like a statue, for nearly an hour now. He allowed himself some movement by looking up into the night sky, particularly at the magnificent orb of the moon. A dark figure representing a face was subtly sketched into it. One could spot the pattern of these craters and see for themselves the image of a stricken unicorn eyeing the whole world down. It was a very melancholy sight, and many ponies who did not notice this visual change reported the same feeling without being able to explain why.

There was a rustle nearby, and the guard quickly turned to spot Celestia approaching him. He instantly straightened his back, bowed his head, and said: "Greetings, Your Majesty. How may I be of service?"

"Silver Wing, was it?" asked Celestia in a strange, quiet voice, as though she did not wish for her voice to make it very far, despite the fact that no pony could possibly be eavesdropping.

"That is correct, Your Majesty. I am the guard you requested."

"That's good," she said, smiling at him. "I needed to ask you a question, Silver Wing. Some advice, perhaps."

The guard blinked hard. "Your Majesty?" he said. "You want me to—"

"Stay there," interrupted Celestia, suddenly, and impelled by uncontrollable feeling she wandered to the dirt mound where the guard stood besides and looked down at the daisy. "Do you know who's buried here?"

"Buried?" said the guard, mildly perplexed; he looked again at the dirt. "A pony of great importance, Your Majesty?"

"Not important, no."

"But to be buried in the castle's garden is—ah, forgive me, I did not mean to doubt your—"

"It's quite alright," she assured. "I agree, the burial itself is rather crude, there wasn't even a ceremony, but I wanted to do it myself. Keep it like this."

"I see. Very well, Your Majesty."

"And what about that?" Celestia gestured to the moon, the one she had raised. "How long until we'll be forced to break the ice to the public?"

"In regards to Princess Luna's banishment, Your Majesty? There is no way for me to be sure. This shall come as heavy tidings indeed."

Celestia was stolidly quiet for nearly a whole minute, as though glad to be embraced by the sight of her night sky. At length she exhaled softly and gazed at the guard.

"My question," she began more clearly this time: "if you were to find out that Equestria had been the usurpers of dark magic all along, and that King Sombra's 'dark magic' was, in fact, the light magic, how would you react?"

"That is... quite the question, Your Majesty. Some ponies might need to think it through."

"By all means, take your time."

"To be brief, Your Majesty, I would have two responses to such a paradoxical scenario."

"And what would they be, Silver Wing?"

"The first would be shock, naturally. To consider us ponies the true users of dark magic—yes, at first I would be both shocked and confused."

"And then?"

"My second response, Your Majesty, would be that of apathy."

"Apathy?" Celestia tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Pardon the expression, Your Majesty, but it's all just water under the bridge. That is, if real dark magic created the good that is Equestria, then what is there to stress over? I find it foolish to fear the dark sometimes, especially when it can be this beautiful," he said, shooting a momentary glance at the stars in the bluish black backdrop of the sky.

"When you put it like that, I'd have to agree," said Celestia, feeling the chilling wind in her face. The guard, however, was reduced to an astute silence.

"And do you like the night sky?" said Celestia again.

"I do, Your Majesty," he said, a small smile coming onto his lips. "I very much do. Um, excuse me, Your Majesty, but is something wrong?"

"What? Oh, no, no," Celestia hurried to say, wiping the tear which had escaped her eye. "Never forget this night, Silver Swing. Don't forget this moon."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"Well..." Celestia began again, but her mind trailed off. "Nothing left to be said."

"I see. Will that be all, Your Majesty?"

"Yes. I'm... sorry I made you wait this long just for that. You may go."

"No need to apologize, Your Majesty. I am happy to serve you, now and forever." He bowed low, jogged off in his direction for a bit, then set off in flight over the castle and out the garden.

Celestia, for a final time, looked at the dirt mound and the daisy. She opened her mouth to say something, namely to remark something about the flower, but immediately became embarrassed with herself for such a consideration. In reality there was nothing to say. She sighed and, with drooping ears, flew out the garden. She was a princess, after all; she had her royal duties to attend to.

But even princesses need some ponies to talk to. She got that out of her chest, whatever it was.

* * *

Post-Epilogue

It was now February, which is as far as I can take us into our story. This was no longer Dunwall, nor any of the cities known to us in this northern continent. I believe we will be resuming in Tyvia, the second largest of the "Isles" and the northernmost continent in this world. I forget which city, although I suppose the finer details are irrelevant.

As the narrator I believe now is the best time to write down my final words. It would be quite awkward for me to interrupt right in the end, don't you think? Now is the best time, I think.

In truth, I haven't much to say. I thought I would, but as we draw to a close I am left wondering—maybe even pondering—what there was to learn. Well, obviously I learned nothing, since I knew everything which would transpire since the first word. It begs the question: "What need had I to relay these strings of facts to you, the reader?" I mean, how pretentious can I be to assume you would care? I do not think I'm that interesting. But, I also wonder, maybe I wrote this for myself, as a means to gauge my own self-importance. Or, if not that, then to see if I cared. If no one else cares, then at least the narrator ought to.

And I do indeed care, if not for the story then for the psychology—and not even the psychology of the characters, but namely the psychology of the message, that which you are meant to learn. People have laughed at me for speaking about my passion for psychology. Well, let them. In my opinion they are wrong; and that Apollinov fellow was of greater depth than supposed (again, in my opinion). But even I wrote him, that is, with my own flair to it; and, maybe, if you had gotten a different narrator to describe the same story, likely a better one, you would end up with something much more understandable. Or not. Who can say?

That said, I will gracefully accept the claim that I have yet to make up for my position as the narrator. No one else would do it, so I seized the opportunity. I guess I failed to make my mark at the outset of my career, which explains my decision to go along with this story. Our dear Corvo, Serath, Celestia, Luna, and Sombra, and whoever else—why does it matter now? The story is about to end. Should you read everything again, with the exception of a few missed clues here or there, everything will roll out largely the same. That's true for any story, of course, but what about for a message? Was there supposed to be a message in the first place? In my opinion: no. I'm sorry, but no. It's best to move on.

But I see I can't go on like this, partly because some things I did not hear, others I did not notice, and others I have forgotten, but most of all because, as I have said before, the story must come to a close. I apologize for stalling. Let's resume. There's nothing left to say.

It was in the docks, deep into the night. A large iron ship had begun to sail off, and the platforms hovering above the sea had been cleared of any pedestrians. The factory pipes and wheels turned in the distance; the sky was filled with a grey smog, not that anyone noticed. An abandoned beach stretched from one end of the docks to the rows of houses which started to make up the current city.

Near one of the dwellings stuck out a dock layout. The waves were high, and every once in a while a splash would overlap onto the boarding, soaking the figure who sat on the edge.

"You called me," said the Outsider, hovering above the moving tides right in front of Corvo, with his arms crossed.

"Just for a final farewell," said Corvo. He was holding an old pistol in his hand, an outdated model, with only one bullet loaded in the cartridge. He had grown a beard, dark but turning slightly grey at his jaw. His face was extremely exhausted; there was no light in his eyes, and he had dark, dreary bags under them. He had the look of a man who was ready dismiss anything, even a thief who stole from him right to his face. He no longer seemed to care about anything.

"I have been watching you," observed the Outsider with a certain well-bred nonchalance, "but I do not need the details. Allow me to withdraw from this discussion."

"The whole 'Corvo Attano is the Wandering Stranger' fiasco has devolved into chaos. It has circulated in every newspaper this last month."

"And I never expected that to bore me so much. You have become a procrastinator, Corvo."

"You should have expected this outcome. I have not killed a single person since December, and they found my scorched mask. The connections were simple enough." Corvo fingered the barrel of the gun; the metal was very cold, and he suppressed a shudder in his shoulder.

"And through all this, still you choose to be here. I say, give it all up, but at the same time reject the new paths which will invariably present themselves to you."

"Are you telling me this?"

"Not at all. These are my plain observations. But like I said, very little of interest has taken place. You still possess my Mark, but to what extent? I am willing to follow you, Corvo, follow you until the day you die. That might bore me, too. It seems like times have changed."

"Times have changed."

"Makes no difference to me, however."

"Well, they continue to search for me. It has not been easy. Has that, at the very least, entertained you?"

"No," replied the Outsider monotonously. "Again, I will drop this subject altogether. You will make your own decisions. If you wish to end it all here, I will simply substitute you for another. No skin off my nose." The Outsider allowed himself to chuckle at a certain thought which came to him, but it went away just as quickly. "Hmm. And here I thought you would last at least five years. It has been thrilling. But, I suppose, there are some things that must be left without their resolution. Even me."

"Very true."

There was a very long pause, in which both of them looked to be communicating without words.

"Goodbye, Corvo. To you..." said the Outsider all of a sudden, gesturing to Corvo. He uncrossed his arms and, staring into the horizon, turned into a floating mass of ash, and finally he disappeared into nothing.

"Farewell, old friend," said Corvo, smiling. But in that moment, he was not sure who he referred to.

* * *

THE END

Author's Note:

Glad you made it to the end. In case your interest for Civil Distinction is still holding up, be sure to check out this lengthy chapter-by-chapter analysis I wrote on it, which goes over most of my intentions and thinking process while writing this story, as well any plot/character details, foreshadowing, and references I included.

Comments

[Shadow-Dancer]

Interesting end to a great story. Glad I stuck around for this long.

[F1utt3rShI]

While it is sad to see that this marks the end of the journey, I must say that this was quite an ending to one of the best stories I've read. Cheers to wherever you go next!

[PaulAsaran]

You can has review!

[fanreader999999]

Poppycock.