The Price For Luna

by PoweredByTea

Part 5 – As the Willow in the Wind

Birds chirped to themselves softly, the remains of night’s rain dripped from new spring leaves, and a little unicorn wrapped up warm in scarf bounced excitedly at her side.

“Where are we going?”

“You wished to learn more today, so I thought of one more thing to show you. You can practise it today and show me what you learned tomorrow.”

“Homework?”

She chuckled. “Yes, Twilight.”

They arrived at the end of the short path that lead down from the manicured palace gardens to the cliff side. A few empty benches before a whitewashed guardrail overlooked the drop. The sun was still close to the horizon, and the last few reds and oranges of the sunrise were still visible.

She summoned a scroll and transparent vial and offered them to the unicorn, who accepted them.

“It is a spell that often comes to ponies with a passion for fine art.”

“Oh, this looks complicated,” came a despairing voice hidden behind the fully unrolled scroll as big as its owner. This one was complicated, but the unicorn was talented; it would only take a few days at most.

“And now I’m afraid that duty really does call, I will see you tomorrow.” She smiled, moving to leave.

She was stopped by a tingling of nearby magic. Curious, she turned back. Sparks few from the unicorn’s horn above a face scrunched up with effort. With a quick forward jerk of the head, her student finished the casting with a burst of light.

Panting but smiling, her little unicorn offered up the token what she had just created. Momentarily speechless, she accepted it. The colour of her sunrise, deftly captured in a little crystal bottle.

☼ ☼ ☼

Celestia of the Three River Vally Heard ran. Gnarled tree trunks of the Everfree tore past Celestia as she barrelled through the undergrowth with reckless speed.

Guilt propelled her. She should never have risked. She should never have strayed. She should never have hoped. Somewhere in there was Twilight, her poor, poor student, and Luna. She didn't have any kind of plan left. She just had to get to them. If she could, maybe she could still make this right.

Leaves and branches tore at her face and eyes, but she didn’t slow. Where the tree branches permitted she lept into the air and flew short distances until the twisted overgroath of branches forced her back down. In the darkness, it felt like falling down and down into a deep pit.

She was pleased with how much of the old ways she still remembered. Some instincts were too deeply ingrained to forget. Watch every direction at once. Remember to look back. Pause every so often to listen. Remember to use your nose—she’d smelled a Manticore a while back, but it hadn’t bothered her. So many ponies these days forgot their nostrils.

She didn’t follow the path directly, as that would have left her too exposed, but ran closely alongside it. She was making good progress. With luck she would be able to catch Twilight and her five companions. Unfortunately, the wild pace meant she couldn’t really be stealthy.

By the time she noticed the soft, silvery glow coming from ahead, it was already too late to avoid being spotted. She froze anyway, but to no avail.

“Now, what is it that we have here?” Came a deep, regal voice that was powerful without needing to be loud—a voice that belonged to a creature who was used to being obeyed. The glow grew stronger until the entire patch of woods was illuminated with a cold light. “Ah. Thou art but small pegasus, lost in the forest. Tell us—”

The creature halted its approach as it ceased speaking and leaned forward in surprise. The body was that of a draconic in shape, complete with wings, claws, and a tail, but the build was sleeker than a terrestrial dragon. Long, silvery whiskers hung down from the snout. Upon the head sat a crown made of an ivory-white starstuff. But most strikingly of all, a silvery light that leaked out from between each scale. Celestia knew this creature. It was a star. Alpha-Draconis.

“Thuban,” Celestia said flatly. Dealing with stars was always a little disconcerting. They were strange creatures of habit whose lives were dominated by cycles that ponykind was far from fully understanding. Some cycles lasted hours or days, others took millennia. Strangely, the stars themselves lacked any self-awareness of this. Polaris had talked about making war on Thuban for dominion of the northern skies for millennia, always claiming that she would make her move soon, yet never had until the proper time. In some ways, they could be almost childlike in their denial.

Another trait that made them difficult was that they nearly every star hated her with as much passion as they loved Luna.

“Celestia, we did not expect to find you here,” Thuban said, switching to the more formal mode of address. “We expected to meet you on the field of battle, not hiding in the dark like a foal.”

“What do you want?” Celestia asked carefully. “Why are you here down on the world?”

“We art here to protect our Luna from your machinations!” The celestial dragon spat, and the inner light intensified enough to cast long shadows in the dark. “You who heartlessly banished our Lady.”

“Peace!” Celestia replied. “I mean Luna no harm.”

Thuban leaned forward dangerously.

“Oh? Is that so?” The dragon raised his arm and snapped two claws together. In a flash of magic, a folder of paper appeared in them, which Thuban then threw contemptuously down at Celestia’s feet. With a feeling of sinking, she recognised the packet.

“Go on!” Thuban shouted, the hint of respect gone again. “Deny that those are thine words, thine seal, and thine signature!”

She remembered Whiskey’s report of an intruder, who had not been a pony yet had used magic. The one she’d dismissed because she was busy and nothing seemed to have been taken. Then later, at that fateful meeting, Merryweather had been sharing his briefing packet with Lodestone when there should have been one for everypony.

“Thou didst not notice,” Thuban said. “No pony at all noted us gone from the sky. In a way, that simply proveth the truth of our lady’s position.”

Ponies might have noticed, certainly the astronomers, but even if they had, she hadn’t been making herself approachable these last few days. She hadn’t noticed.

“Those papers were written by me, but my objectives have changed since then.” The truth was worth a try, even though Celestia didn’t hold out a lot of hope.

Thuban's response indeed didn’t surprise her. “We see little point in further conversation," He grunted contemptuously. "We will take thee to thine sister where she will decide thine fate once she is done dealing with thine six agents.”

There was an air of finality to the star's words, and he began to approach. Celestia had only a moment to consider her options. The fact that Thuban hadn’t made any moves against her suggested that he didn’t consider her a threat. He must assume that recovering her magic would be a complicated affair—and that would be true of some lesser shapeshifting spells—but with this one, three clicks of her forehooves, done in a fraction of a second, was all it took. Except, if she did that, Luna would sense her leading to the confrontation she so badly wanted to avoid.

But if she didn’t... somewhere out there Twilight and her companions might be in mortal danger, struggling through the deadly forest and facing a foe they could not hope to match without her help. She had to get to them, and protect them.

I really must stop underestimating that unicorn.

The thought came unbidden.

Light the fire. Believe things could be better. Lift your head up from the dirt because the world was a beautiful, wonderful place. What had happened to that Celestia? She’d been betrayed. Hurt. Crushed under the weight of ten thousand “maybes” and “what-ifs”.

Light shone down through the impossible pane, daring her to hope.

That Celestia wasn’t dead. Not yet.

Did she believe something of Luna was still left or not? Something that could still be reached? And Twilight, did she believe in her student or not? Every word of praise, over all the years. Had she meant them or not? Well?

She fixed her gaze on the former king of the northern skies. Somehow, the darkness of the forest no longer held any fear for her. “Those things may come to pass, but first—” Celestia kicked off from the ground as hard as she could and took to the wing, “—you must catch me!”

Somehow, with no clues and few resources, Twilight was closer to the Elements than Celestia. She had chosen her companions, not the onses Celestia should have chosen, but who was to say they weren't the right ones. They didn’t need Celestia, they didn’t need her guidance, they only needed time. So she would give them that.

☼ ☼ ☼

“See, I’d never leave my friends hanging,” the enthusiastic cyan pegasus remarked as if that had been the most unremarkable thing in the world. Not waiting for an answer, she flapped onwards towards the ruin.

Despite the rather dire situation, Twilight realised she was smiling. Even more surprisingly, she realised more than ten years of accumulated cynicism somehow failed to dampen the expression.

☼ ☼ ☼

Celestia dived and weaved in and out of the brambles and branches, pirouetting around the magic thrown at her by the usurped king who gave chase.

The weight of the years vanished like they had never been. She became a simple thing of running and flight that existed in the tiny sliver between future and past. There was no space any more for regrets or worries. The world contained only the forest, her would-be hunter, and she.

She never let the king’s light grow too dim, or too bright. She couldn’t be caught, but she couldn’t lose him either. Nor could she let the star learn that he was being led; the chase needed to seem genuine.

A prickling feeling across her feathers prompted her to pitch upwards and spin just in time to dodge a searing bolt of lightning. Behind her, Thuban let out a scream of frustration. Channelling Luna, she’d remembered to close her eyes to preserve her night vision, while Thuban evidently had not. She used the opportunity to duck under a bush and hide.

“Where art thou!” Thuban bellowed, his voice echoing slightly. The star was angry, she could use that.

She listened as Thuban wasted precious minutes stomping about the undergrowth before he spotted her white plumage, then the chase was on once more. She fought like a pegasus of old, with cunning and trickery. She stroked his anger with mocking words and actions and effortlessly dodged the magic thrown back in retort.

How could they harm her? She as light and free as a wisp of air; she who had run through the grasslands and forests of the world when it was young. She was the sun, Thuban but a tiny star.

☼ ☼ ☼

“You’re kidding me. You’re kidding me right?”

She was charging Nightmare Moon. Nightmare Moon was charging her.

Ah, ponyfeathers.

When Twilight had woken up last morning, her list of things she expected to do that day had not included charging The Mare in the Moon. Even when stepping into the castle, it had not featured on any kind of itinerary she might have prepared. But here she was, out of time and out of options, charging Nightmare Moon because all other roads led to night eternal.

She’d dimly hoped that she might be able to slip under the larger pony’s hooves or perhaps duck to the side, but actually seeing Nightmare Moon bearing down on her? That wasn’t going to happen.

No plan. No checklist. No nothing. She felt lightheaded.

Seconds left. There’d been another unicorn who had lived her life like this, hadn’t there? All at once, understanding dawned. The study notes hadn’t mattered. The few incomprehensible pages of primary sources hadn’t mattered. None of it had. That wasn’t the point. Nothing that Blink had been was the written word and nothing of the written word had been Blink. No wonder she had struggled to learn.

Her horn lit as she felt the ghostly presence of a unicorn charging Nightmare Moon with her. In a voice that reached down through eight hundred years, it spoke:

“I can show you how to get past Nightmare.”

☼ ☼ ☼

Celetia kicked off a tree and dove to the right, crossing a deep ditch before landing on her hooves. Behind her, the glow through the trees intensified as Thuban sailed into view. Unlike her, he was forced to the ground early by his larger wingspan and would have to navigate the ditch by foot. Celetia covered by exaggerating her breathlessness to make it appear that she was tiring.

Thuban raised both claws, which began to glow as more lightning arced between them. Celestia tensed to jump but before she could, something ripped at her soul. It staggered her for at a vital moment and her dodge was off. When the bolt hit, she was thrown clumsily to one side and slid in the dirt.

What had that been? Ah. She had lost Honesty. Kindness followed as she lay in the dirt in pain. Laughter left her moments later as the towering draconic figure stepped towards her hooves. Generosity hurt the most—the element she had known longest and most keenly—but she gave it freely despite how hollow it left her. Last to go was Loyalty, as she was lifted up to Thuban’s face in the grip of the star’s magic.

“Why art thou smiling?”

Celestia forced herself to ignore the pain and numbness so she could answer. She even managed a little chuckle.

“Because none of this mattered,” she said. “Because tonight, I am not the only one whose plans lay in ruin. But mostly because sometimes the world truly is a beautiful, wonderful place where miracles happen.”

When Thuban tilted his head in confusion, Sky continued.

“I never mattered, I never even had a say. Luna will be returned to us healed, tonight. The best of all endings, and I never even saw it coming.”

“Explain thyself!”

Celestia simply smiled and said: “Do you feel that?”

There was a tingling in her wings, the part of her that was currently most magical. Thuban must have felt it too, because he stepped back into a defensive stance, looking in the direction of the old castle. The tingling crescendoed rapidly. Celestia let her smile soften and shut her eyes. In moments, all she could feel was peace.

The pair were hit by a pure white magical shockwave later estimated to be traveling at eight times the speed of sound and still accelerating. It didn’t matter at all that Celestia’s eyes were closed; she could still see it. The light outshone the sun many times over. It shone through the toughest objects like they were glass. But as bright as the light was, it didn’t hurt at all.

Seconds later, the light passed through the tiny village of Ponyville and was still strong as it passed over Canterlot. It travelled past the borders of Equestria and out over satellite nations Equestria had treaties with.

In the settlement of Appleloosa, Sheriff Silver Star was standing before a worried crowd of apple farmers, trying his best to allay their fears that the sun had not risen when the light passed by. Even though night remained in its wake, the ponies looked at each other and smiled; somehow they knew everything was going to be all right.

In nations so distant that Equestria only received messages from them every few years, magical creatures turned their heads to wonder what the tingling sensations they felt could possibly have been.

The light embedded itself into the very geology of the world’s magic. A hundred years from now, teachers of magical theory would gather foals around sensitive arcane instruments so they could see readings of the still ringing echoes of today.

Her awareness subsumed into to the glory. Inanna be damned. The price for Luna... nothing more than a little trust. It had never been any more than that.

☼ ☼ ☼

The easy smile still remained on her face when she came to her senses. She lay, still in the body of a pegasus, on a patch of lush, green grass quite unlike anything found in the Everfree. There was an aching hollowness within her, where her connection with the spirits of harmony had once been. Without them, the world would be a just a little bit less friendly, just a touch harsher. They had always been right there, ready to be clutched onto in the secret moments in the middle of the night when perhaps brave little princesses didn’t feel so brave. Even immortal rulers of nations sometimes needed something to believe in, perhaps even more so than other ponies.

But, well, the Elements weren’t gone, were they? They had just changed.

“Twilight,” she breathed, “you did it.” And the others. She would meet them soon.

Unfortunately, before she had time to rise, she was swept up in the grip of silvery magic and forcibly turned to face Thuban.

“Explain what just occurred!”

Apparently, the celestial dragon had been the first to recover. Her body was held in telekinetic force. She struggled to click her hooves together, but she was held fast. The star looked angry, very angry. Perhaps if she could only keep him occupied just a short while longer...

“That was the feeling of ponies using the Elements of Harmony,” she pleaded. “It's good news.”

“The Elements? Thy meaning being that Luna is banished once more?” Thuban said, dangerously. He frowned, his bushy eyebrows almost meeting. He opened his mouth to speak—

“All right, I don’t know what you are, but put the pegasus down!” Came the voice of a stallion.

Yes, the world might be a wonderful place full of miracles large and small, but it never hurt to make one’s own luck too, did it not? The direction she had been leading Thuban in had not been entirely random, and those thunderbolts had be quite loud.

Shining Armour lept into the clearing at a gallop, followed by nine royal guards. He immediately surrounded them in a shimmering mauve shield.

“We do not know who thou art, pony,” Thuban replied. “But thou shalt leave us.”

When Shining Armour’s expression narrowed, Thuban contemptuously raised a claw and struck out with a thin bolt of lightning. It hit the shield and was absorbed harmlessly. Thuban raised an eyebrow.

Shining Armour responded by shifting his weight and murmuring what were presumably instructions to his companions. This time, Thuban raised both claws and lightning sparked between them. The resulting bolt was thick and evil, but it too bounced harmlessly off the shield and impacted onto a tree. The bark to split open as the sap to boiled.

As this happened, the silvery glow around the white pegasus went out as the dragon ceased to concentrate on it. She dropped to the ground, tapping her forehooves together as she fell. By the time Thuban recovered from the surprise of having his attack deflected, a tall, regal alicorn was looking him directly in the eye.

“How!” was all he managed, as he backed away.

Celestia stepped forward in turn. “Everything I said was true. Luna is unharmed. Go now and celebrate.”

Thuban seemed to consider his options, but not for long. He moved to kick off into the air, but he was stopped by a wing placed on his shoulder.

“We thank thee from the bottom of our heart for returning our sister from the moon. But should we ever learn that it was thee who was responsible for the madness that put her there,” Celestia paused for emphasis, “there are entire branches of astronomy dedicated to learning the ways that stars can die. Consider that.”

Thuban gulped, before spreading his wings and flying up through the canopy, while Celestia watched him go for a moment. Her final words troubled her, in not least of which because she could not say if she had truly meant them or not. Yet another matter to meditate on at a future date.

Instead, she turned to face the squad of ponies. They bowed as she did so, so she motioned them to rise.

“Lieutenant, your assistance was most timely,” she said, the princess once more. “You showed commendable bravery; that was no trivial foe.”

Yes, Princess Celestia of Equestria had returned. The many tangled layers wrapped around the core of what she was slipped effortlessly back into place. But perhaps... perhaps they fit together a little better now. Yes, Princess Celestia had left for a while, but now it was time she returned, wiser than before.

“All part of our duty, your majesty!” one of the guards said. He was smiling. They were all smiling. It was difficult not to. Something in the air.

“Lieutenant,” Celestia said, “proceed as instructed down the path to the old castle. With luck, I will meet you coming in the opposite direction. I shall go ahead.”

“Yes your majesty!” Shining Armour said, saluting.

With that, Celestia reared up and rose into the air with a single powerful flap of her wings. At her back, the sun rose over the world.

☼ ☼ ☼

“Sir, why is green grass ’n’ flowers growing under ah hooves wherever we step? Is that supposed ta happen?”

The white stallion who seemed to be in charge looked down, and saw that this was indeed the case.

“I don’t know, private, but it’s probably a good thing.”

A moment passed.

“Did... did we just rescue the princess? As in, Princess Celestia-princess? That just happened?”

Once again, the white stallion had to take a moment to consider this. “I... I think we did.”

“Sir,” another pony chipped in. “Rescuing the princess is going to look mighty good on our records, ain’t it? Do you think we’re all going to get commendations?”

“That’s pretty good for you, sir,” a second pony said, nudging the white unicorn with a hoof. “Especially with the old captain retiring soon.”

Strangely, the lieutenant in question failed to look as enthusiastic as his comrades.

“Sir?”

“Oh it’s nothing. Just... well, I don’t know. A commendation would be nice.” The stallion’s expression became oddly wistful for a moment. “It’s just, I always assumed that if I was going to rescue a princess, it would be, well, a different one.”

None of the other ponies seem to know what to make of this, so the group set out towards the old castle.