Final Reign

by Lise

Moonbound

“You believe it's necessary, do you?" Fancy Pants asked, sipping the last of his latest glass of Scotch. Seeing my disapproval he levitated a the bottle towards me. "Fancy a drink?" he offered. "Golden Special. Eighty years old single malt. Cost me a fortune back when money actually meant something."

"Haven't you had too much?" I directed my attention to the window, looking out on the seven rays of white light connecting Canterlot to the pale moon in the sky.

"On the contrary, old boy." Fancy filled up his glass. "If anything, I haven't had enough." He gulped half of his drink, then placed it on the table. Always the sophisticated aristocrat, even now. "How else do you expect me to go ahead with this?"

"It's necessary..."

"Sending a quarter of a Canterlot to the moon?" Fancy snorted then got back to his Scotch.

I couldn't blame him. The decision to mass banish what remained of Equestria to the moon wasn't made lightly. And yet, I hadn’t felt a thing. It was all out of necessity, just numbers on a scroll, that's what life had become to me. My goal was to prevent the number from reaching zero. Other than that, nothing mattered—not since McIntosh passed away. Only numbers mattered now.

"The moon will keep them alive. It has lasted longer than anything else on Equestria."

"And in the meantime there'll be less of them to feed, right?" Fancy refilled his glass. "I guess you'll finally have your four hour day. That was your life's goal, if I remember correctly.”

Clever pony. Fancy had always been clever, far more than ponies gave him credit for. When Auntie Celestia was alive I took him for a fool who only reached his position thanks to his family fortune and political connections. The way he talked, the way he dressed, the way he acted in public, all reminded me of those annoying nobles who tried to worm themselves in the palace. As it turned out, he was far more than that.

"Do you think Auntie made a mistake choosing me?" I glanced at the Scotch bottle. It was nearly empty. "Would things have been difficult with you at the helm?"

"Oh, absolutely." He tried to stand up, but the alcohol pulled back onto the couch. "You've been in my dreams, haven't you, old chum?" He laughed. "Not a day goes by without me imagining bringing you down. My word, it's glorious each time. Everyone rejoicing, the sun flaring up rekindled by our cheers, even the Princesses awakening from their slumber. And do you know the irony of it all?" I shook my head. "I can only afford these fantasies because of the dream rations you've been giving me. Without them I'd be as brainless and docile as what passes for a royal guard these days."

"I’ve never looked into your dreams," I said. "Too much effort."

"Yes, quite." The last of the bottles contents poured into his glass. "Eyes on the prize and all that. So, tell me old boy, have you figured out anything? Are you any closer to this glorious discovery that will save us all?"

A few years ago I would have been angry at anyone who held such a tone. Things being as they were, I no longer cared. Of course, I wasn't going to tell him the truth. The most cruel thing I could do to anyone now was to give them hope.

"Possibly," I replied, knowing perfectly well how he'd interpret it.

"Possibly." He laughed again. "Two decades of misery for a possibly? Though, I ought to be grateful. The way things are going, you'll probably manage to grant me another decade or so of misery before it's over. Splendid show, I say. Let's drink to that."

If only that were true. In truth, the sun had less than two years left. It didn't matter if I reduced sunlight to one hour or even a minute per day. The magic sustaining it was fading, and if Twilight's calculations were to be trusted, it would poof in a cloud of darkness anytime between sixteen and twenty moons from now. There was an entirely different reason I didn't want it to shine. Fancy just wouldn't understand and I needed him alive, just in case things worked out.

"Fleur went insane again yesterday," the stallion announced once he finished the last of his Scotch. "Tried to use her magic to set her room on fire. She failed, of course. There's hardly enough magic nowadays to cast a glow spell. When she realized, she started bashing her against the wall. Broke her horn in half before the guards could stop her."

"Again?" I moved away from the window. Fancy had never mentioned any of this before. "I'll give you some more love rations."

"To Tartarus with your love rations!" he hissed. "That's your answer for everything isn't it? Why do you think I never told you about her episodes? Do you honestly think she would be happier as a love addict? Do you think I would? You of all ponies should know how well that ends."

"Careful, Fancy..." I wasn’t going to let anyone talk that way about my McIntosh. His decision had been his own.

"Or what? You'll kill the only fool willing to speak to you? No, old boy, we're stuck with each other." He levitated the empty bottle, examining it closely, making sure he hadn't missed any precious drops of liquid. Finding none, he sighed and made a sign to one of the guards to bring him another. I allowed the order go unchallenged.

Outside, a single ray of light still shone upon the moon—the last few dozen souls transported. For over a thousand years the practice was considered unspeakably horrendous. Funny how it had become the last hope of a dying world. If in banishment I managed to preserve enough ponies to last through this entropy, I could at least die knowing I had succeeded. Everything in my research pointed to it being the only permanent solution—Equestria's lifeboat.

There was just one catch: I couldn't be sure any pony would survive the process. That's why five weeks from now I was going to visit the moon and check on them myself. If they managed to survive I'd send the next batch, and the next, until the only pony in this fading land was me. Then, finally, I'd do what needed to be done.

“Lunar Delight, a hundred and twenty years old,” Fancy said behind me. “Are you positive you don't want a drop?” I heard the pop of a cork, followed by the splashing of liquid in a glass. “I'm sure it fits the occasion perfectly.”

“No.” I stared at the moon, its surface scarred by the thousands of new souls it bore.

Comments

[killergoonie]

Not as sad as the other chapters but it does bring to light many other things and does build up nicely. Can't wait for the other sad chapters.

[Kryssi]

This is going to be a Tragedy, isn’t it?

[Godzilladragon]

I'm reminded of Fable 2.

Make the bad choices, Everyone lives.

Make the people happy, Everyone dies.

Or just spam buy houses until you get enough cash for everyone to live and be happy.