The Lightning In Your Teeth

by Meridian Prime

Conscience Clear

The sky hangs heavy in the air. Not a hint of blue can be seen through the red haze that seems to permeate everything, seeping into the dust-riddled clouds and tinting the world into a permanent sunset. It is almost as oppressive as the silence.

Where once this world would have teemed with life, now there is nothing. In place of green and noise and splendour, all that can be found, mile after mile, is dust, ash and heat. Everything is dead. The mountains are bare, rock cracking under the furnace of the ever-closer, burning sun, the seabeds dry and oceans gone. All save one.

In one last, forgotten corner of the world, there is a beach. Although it stretches from horizon to horizon, it is not large as coastlines go, nor is it particularly impressive—when all the world is dust and rock, sand ceases to be quite such a novelty. What makes this beach special is not the sand.

It is the ocean.

It can hardly be called as such anymore. Once, it had stood bestride half the world, sinking to depths no pony could ever hope to approach. Now it is a mere puddle when compared to its former glory. It would barely be a lake in the old world, but still, it is an ocean. The last ocean.

Its shore would have once drawn photographers from near and far—pristine, for miles on end. And yet, it has a blemish. For standing on the shore at the end of the world is a pony.

No other living thing exists on this world. There is no need for them. The alicorn—for that is what she is—simply stands on the shore, hooves inches from the cowed, shallow waters, and stares straight up into the sky, watching. The sun, hanging malevolently across half the sky in a muted crayon red, would have burned and blinded any other being long ago—but the alicorn already burns. Flames spring from her body, flowing from her tail and around the ornate crown that rests on her brow. Her eyes, as dark as the rolling clouds above, remain fixed on the glowing orb.

She is alone. Then, she opens her mouth.

“You can stop hiding.”

The pony did not appear. No, it would be more accurate to say that the world shifted. One moment, the burning alicorn stood alone, as she had always been—the next, two alicorns stood on the shore, and they always had.

The newcomer could not have differed more from her companion. Where the burning pony had a coat the bleached, dead white of bone, the other was a cool midnight blue, a bygone colour in this world of perpetual sun. Despite its inoffensiveness, it seems out of place. Her mane, although it flows much like her counterpart, is a wispy, starry field—a glimpse of the long forgotten night sky. She stands silently, gaze locked on the burning alicorn’s back.

If she notices, she gives no sign. Still facing the sea, she speaks again.

“Why have you come here?”, she asks. The words sit in the air, immovable and demanding as their creator.

“You know why I have come.”

The reply is little more than whisper. Anywhere else, the sound would not have carried—but in the dead silence of a dead world, the words drop like distant thunder.

“Oh?”

The larger pony finally moves, head turning to lock one baleful eye on the darker alicorn. She huffs softly, sending sparks scattering across the sand on the exhale. Then she turns fully, her impassive expression replaced by slow spreading, sly grin.

“Well then, Princess of the Moon. What say you now?”

---

“You are being ridiculous, Sister!”

Princess Luna, Diarch of the Night, fixed her sister with an unimpressed frown, exasperation written across her features. They were both standing in Celestia’s room, the evening sun streaming in through the open balcony doors and windows, bathing everything in the red-orange hues of the sunset. Celestia stood by her private desk—she had been finishing paperwork prior to her sister’s interruption, but her attention was now solely on Luna. Although a stranger might have only seen her typical composure, her seemingly relaxed posture was fraught with tension. Even Luna was almost fooled by her pleasantly neutral expression, but a closer look revealed a jaw clenched so tight, she was surprised she could not hear the sound of grinding teeth. Her frown deepened.

“And stop with the, the face. We talked about this ‘Tia, I’m not a damned diplomat,” she said, waving her hoof irritatedly at Celestia’s muzzle.

The mask of pleasantry instantly dropped, replaced by a displeased scowl. “Fine. But this conversation is over—I absolutely refuse to let you-”

“But why?” Luna interrupted. “You know that I can do this—or do you doubt me even now?”

Celestia sagged, scowl melting into a tired frown as she reached up to scrub at her face with a hoof. “You know that’s not true, Luna. I have definitely learned my lesson after my night in your shoes.”

“Then why will you not let me deal with this, sister?” Luna persisted, “We both know that my power is ideally suited to this task, and surely you do not want her rattling around in your head! So why won’t you let me help?”

As she said this, the smaller alicorn moved slowly towards her sister, jabbing her hoof at Celestia’s chest as the diarch of the day backed towards the bed, her voice steadily rising to a shout. Celestia’s frown grew more pronounced as her sister grew closer, until at last the tension snapped. In a rare loss of control, Celestia stamped a frustrated hoof down with a loud crack that cut her sister’s questioning off. Luna jumped, nickering slightly as she pulled back and lowered her hoof with wide eyes, staring at her sister in the sudden silence.

The white alicorn was breathing heavily, eyes closed and otherwise perfectly still, the only sign of her anger a spiderweb of fissures running out from beneath her right front hoof. Gradually her breathing slowed, and with a sigh, she opened her eyes to look wearily up at her sister.

“Because damn it all I’m scared, Luna,” she said softly, “Daybreaker scares me.”

---

“Sister, do you have a moment?” Luna poked her head around her sisters open door, peering into the room.

Princess Celestia sat at her desk, poring over the minutiae of court, but she quickly looked up at her sister’s voice.

“Of course Luna, what do you need?” she said with a gentle smile.

Luna stepped into the room hesitantly, her sister raising an eyebrow at the unusual trepidation.

“It’s about Daybreaker,” she said slowly, brow furrowed nervously.

Celestia’s smile vanished, her face locking into a neutrality born from centuries of politics, but Luna knew her sister better than that. Behind that impassive face, invisible to those that did not know her, Celestia’s eyes showed a deep inner turmoil, with a not insignificant dose of panic thrown in—something she had not seen in her sister since Tirek’s return.

The smile quickly returned however, if a little more plastic than before. That it had slipped at all, Luna knew, was testament to how shaken her sister was by the topic.

“Surely we’ve put that unpleasantness behind us? I know our communication was lacking, but we’ve been much better these last few months—and regardless, what does Starlight’s nightmare have to do with me?” she laughed lightly, but to Luna’s ears the sound was on a knife edge, trying desperately not to fall into oblivion. Her mouth tightened.

“But she wasn’t Starlight’s nightmare, Sister. Was she?”

There was a pause. Slowly, as if sudden movement might break the tension, Celestia set down her quill. She turned her gaze to the window, and the silence continued.

It was all the answer Luna needed.

“Why did you not tell me?” she whispered, the pain of old hurts colouring her voice.

Celestia’s mouth twisted, the ugly expression seeming out of place on her usually regal face. But she did not answer.

“Were you scared? That I might judge you? After my own mistakes?” Each question was a little louder, and the Princess of the Moon’s voice cracked at the last. Celestia closed her eyes.

“No,” she exhaled at last, “But Daybreaker has been my own burden to bear for a long, long time Luna. And you have had many burdens of your own.” She turned once more to face her sister, eyes glistening. “I simply wished to keep you from adding another, one that wasn’t yours to bear.”

Luna gritted her teeth, her own tears now threatening to spill, before shaking her head and taking a deep breath. When she looked at her sister again, it was with resolve.

“Well you are no longer alone, ‘Tia. Daybreaker is a part of you, and a part you must face, lest you repeat my mistakes. As you now know all too well, with my power I can help you confront her within your own mind, without risking unleashing her on the world. A quick, clean solution, and we can all move on,” she said with a decisive nod. It saddened her that Celestia felt she must keep this from her, but what was done was done, and now they could both do something to correct it.

It took her by surprise when Celestia stiffened, her eyes going cold and hard.

“Absolutely not.”

---

Luna gritted her teeth once more, now more out of desperation than anything else. “Which is exactly why you must face her ‘Tia!” she exclaimed, “I must confess I am at a complete loss as to your reasoning here! If you fear her then it is all the more imperative that you deal with her, and we can both move on with our lives!” Luna was nearly shouting as she finished, jabbing her hoof at her sister once more. “Just,” she implored, running the same hoof distractedly through her mane, “Explain to me why you can’t do this. Please. You have been evading the question since we started talking.”

Celestia sighed, sagging under the weight of her sisters gaze and words. “I have her under control,” she uttered weakly, flinching slightly at her sisters glare. With another sigh, she pulled herself upright and moved to sit back down at her desk, facing her sister. “Alright,” she said with a grim expression, “I suppose I owe you that much.” Taking a deep breath, she began.

“I locked Daybreaker deep in my mind centuries ago, because,” she emphasised, holding up a hoof to forstall Luna’s incoming retort, “I didn’t, and still don’t, know how to fight her.” Seeing Luna’s frown, she sighed again. “It’s not like I didn’t try, sister. But, well,” Celestia bit her lip, nervousness clear. Luna’s frown deepened into an outright scowl, and, with obvious reluctance, Celestia continued. “While I was never in any danger of being overpowered by her, I faced the same threat that you did.” Seeing her sisters confusion, she winced, closing her eyes, before plainly stating:

“She offered me something that I found I dearly wanted. Something I shouldn’t have wanted. And I was sorely, sorely tempted.” She cracked an eye open, a bitter half-smile curling at her lip as she saw Luna’s open-mouthed shock. “I must confess it terrifies me even now.”

Luna was staring at her sister, mind whirling. How? The very existence of Daybreaker proved that her sister had her own demons, but she had thought them self-inflicted, closer to her own Tantabus than a true Nightmare. How could her shining sister possibly have been come so close to the edge?

And, a darker part of her mind added, what could the older, better loved sister possibly want for?

She forced herself away from that line of thought. She knew all too well that it would only lead to bitter places. Mouth once more set in a thin line of resolve, Luna straightened and responded to her sister.

“Then I shall face the demon.”

It was not often that the ruler of Equestria was caught unawares, and in a less serious situation Luna might have even found her sister wide-eyed look of surprise amusing. She continued,

“As I said before, my powers are ideal for this. And there is no temptation it can offer me.” A nice, tidy solution. And yet, once more, she was wrong. In a moment that would not soon leave her mind, her sisters face flashed with what could only be described as deep, unbridled fear. It passed in an instant, Celestia quickly adopting a thoughtful look, but to see such raw terror on her sisters face shook Luna to the core.

“I really don’t think it’s necessary, Luna. But,” she smiled, though her eyes still danced with carefully hidden horror, “I will think on it. It’s been a long conversation, and a longer day—let’s talk about it in the morning, shall we?” So well crafted was her expression that even Luna might have been fooled—were it not for the fact that, though it was slight and subtle, she could see that her sister was shaking.

“I, yes, of course,” she stuttered, pasting a pleasant smile on her face. That Celestia seemed to buy it only further proved how shaken the day princess truly was. “I will leave you to sleep—I must attend to my own duties after all!”

Celestia laughed. “Don’t I know it! I’m sure you’ll do a wonderful job as always Luna—certainly better than my poor efforts,” she joked, ushering Luna out the door. “Well then, goodnight!”

Luna was not sure how she got back to her room, or how long she spent standing there before a brave guard reminded her of the need to raise the moon. She did so distractedly, with none of her usual ceremony. Her mind was stilled fixed on the moment of terror that had flashed across Celestia’s face. What could have scared her sister so badly?

No. She knew the answer to that. The real question was far more worrying.

Why did her sister fear Daybreaker?

Luna chewed her lip. There was only one way to find out. Celestia would not be happy, but she need never know—and after all, was it not her duty to help all of Equestria face their demons?

Comments

[ClockworkMage]

I like the disjointed ordering here.