Tear the Sky Asunder

by Ice Star

Lost Queen

Among ashes, Celestia stumbled
Her face an expression of mute horror
and as pale as the flame-licked bones
that lurked within all this ruin
yet her eyes shone like fire in the dark
even if they only stared straight ahead
bleakly replaying the sight

Of thatched houses
and the ponies within
sheltering themselves from fire-rain
and her
standing no more but leaping
and soaring
into action

Her own horn had shone as bright as flame
as she tried, with her goddess-might,
to rip down doors and pry open windows
tears from sorrow and smoky, cinder-filled air
choking her
as if to muffle her cries
for she only tried to offer them
kindness
and save them from a fire that raged wantonly

But they, ponies of the mostly-frozen earth
would not trust the monster who dove so willingly
into flame
and terror
telling them

GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT

Please...

fearing her as much as any fire
perhaps even more

Celestia, begging over and over, tearing at any obstruction
that would fall in her path
licked by tongues of flame that threatened her desperate cause
just as much as the ponies within

And it was all in vain, her own shouts
lost
in a mad frenzy
where the last screams of the dying
blended
with the roar of the fire
her racing heart
and the hoarse, heavy coughs
that punctured her desperate screams
for help
from anypony
for everypony
that she couldn't seem to save
no matter how much rubble she tried to pull away
and how much of her silly skirt was burned away,
catching on collapsed frames,
the skeletons of more-than-humble homes,
and burning away

But now
She stood
alone
alive
Two trails where tears had flowed
what could have been hours before
tracing twin lines down her cheeks
powdered with ash
to reveal the white coat beneath
rags hang about her frame
their bright colors
gone
their elegance and patterns
marred

Her long legs shake
but not from the cold

Celestia
is
tired

Her knees are caked in dried blood
that she is relieved to know
is hers
and hers alone

Again, she finds herself
alone
and
bowing
to the crowning flurry—
ice and snow reigning over a sky her now-scorched wings cannot hope to reach—
as she prostates before the cruel world that she has come to know
the only living creature
for miles

She pauses to take a breath
tasting the black snow
and around her the silence echoes

The young goddess, only a few heads taller than
the average pony, whether noble or serf
pricks her ears forward
to catch the sound of
somber humming
coming from behind her place on the ground

It sounds so near her
and were the dirge-like tune
not unknown to her
she would say, to herself of course
as she bows on this lonely plain,
that this tragedy
might be a dream

Before her, stood proof that she was wrong
and Celestia was no longer alone

Silently turning to see the source of such an eerie tune
she came face to face with another
who would likely be so quick to be called monster
were ponies still alive
and she sat not in a garden of ash and bone

But...

Before Celestia, behind Celestia—
she was far too dizzy to care—
there was another Alicorn mare
with a coat of orchid,
which was a reminder of other times
when it was her and Luna, alone in a world
without snow and lies

Something compelled her
to take a single step
toward the mare with a mane and tail
that flowed like a river of golden light
while her own colorful hair
shimmered despite its limpness

The mystery Alicorn who
with her spotless coat
and height that surpassed any pony
whirled to face the
flame-licked maiden
lying in the ashes before her

The orbs of pulsing, multi-colored light
shining with memories that weighed
the deeds of souls she had come to reap
vanish
and her blue eyes widen
at the sight of a goddess that should not be
an immortal that until now has remained
unknown
and escaped the ruin
of another story — an Old World—
that even she, this Alicorn maiden,
would only recall in fragments

They gaped at one another
words coming to neither mare

The Reaping Queen shocked that the
ragged and broken sight before her could be real
though it could only be true
the ghost of a mare
the pale young goddess
saw through a spell barrier
that only blocked mortal eyes

And Celestia, as the mare of ashes sputtered
a name known to no god that remained,
was no mortal

Elysium of Paradise, a world known only to the dead
stared at the half-grown mare on the ground
bidding her to rise

Blue eyes meet magenta
and the queen asks the little mare before her
to fill in the details that have been lost in the chaos of the
disaster before them all
and if
she still wants to save
what is left
to rise from the ashes once more

And Celestia nods, yearning
to be a hero