The Archetypist

by Cold in Gardez

Chapter 12

Starlight found me that evening before she retired to bed. She was back to her old colors, but something about her seemed different. I spent a moment studying her mane and eyes, wondering what she’d changed, when it finally hit me.

Her cutie mark was gone. She looked naked without it, and years younger besides. Amazing how much maturity that little icon on our coat can confer.

She climbed up beside me on the couch. “How are your eyes?”

“Fine.” With only candles to light the room, I could take off the blindfold and shades. Even so, the quiet study was as luminous as my balcony at noon. “They don’t hurt. It’s just very bright.”

“Mm.” She glanced down at my book. “Research, or enjoyment?”

“A bit of both.” I lowered the battered copy of The Celestial Messengers. Much of the middle half of the book had been destroyed by Discord’s crossbow bolt, but the last chapters were mostly intact. I might never know how the cult lived, but I could find out how they died. “What are we going to do, Starlight?”

“Whatever we think is right. Hard to go wrong with that.”

“What if I’m wrong, though? What if ponies really are happy with what Discord is doing?” The memory of Applejack’s lazy, contented smile as she flew away flashed through my mind.

“Then, let’s be careful before we do anything rash.” She peered at my eyes again. “What are you dreaming of, Twilight?”

“A sun so bright that it turns everything else dark, and I can’t see,” I said. It was all I could remember from my dreams. Struggling through the darkness, only to realize it was light all along.

“Sounds bad.”

“It’s not. It’s so beautiful. I just wish I understood it.” I set my book on the table beside the couch, where it could wait until morning. “We’ll go to Canterlot tomorrow and talk to Luna. She’ll tell us what to do.”

“Do we really need her to tell us what to do?”

“Well.” I frowned down at my hooves. “Nothing says we have to follow her advice.”

“Fair enough.” Starlight leaned forward to brush my cheek with hers. Her scent – bed linens and sweat and candle wicks – filled my nose with comfortable familiarity. Tangled with it was the sharper scent of cordite and sparks. Trixie’s pollution. I tried to ignore it. “Sleep tight.”

“I’ll try.” It was the most I could promise.

* * *

It is the summer of my ninth year. Our party has crossed the plains of Marethon and reached the Celestial Tower. The Hierophant greets us at the observation level.

The balcony here has no rails. There is nothing to stop anypony from tumbling off the edge to their deaths except their own common sense. I have heard in whispers that it happens sometimes to sun-blind vessels. They are given worthy funerals and entombed with the martyrs.

We lower our heads in respect, but the Hierophant rebukes us. It is our first lesson. Raise your head to show respect. The greatest honor is to gaze upward.

They have not given us water in hours. Tangerine no longer sweats, for her body has run out. She pants rapidly. I can almost taste the sunstroke stalking her. The marble around us is perfect, unblemished and white, and it reflects the sun with absolute fidelity. Standing on this balcony, exposed to the sun and the marble and the naked drop just feet away, one experiences a certain vertigo. I can feel my spirit leaving my body to hover above this furnace. I watch us like a ghost.

Tangerine sways. Her forelegs buckle, and she sags to the hot marble like shorn grass. She twitches and crawls and manages to drag herself into the shade of one of the mirror-lanterns. We can all hear her rasping, frantic breaths.

“Failure,” the Hierophant says. “Insufficient piety.”

White-robed servants sweep forward. They drag Tangerine into the tower, her time with us complete. I spare only a passing thought to whether she will survive.

When no more of us collapse, the Hierophant steps to the edge of the balcony and turns. It is time for our second lesson. He reaches up and undoes the filigreed silk blindfold bandaging his eyes. They are welded shut with scars that are bubbled and red. Infections and burns have transfigured his face. Only faintly could one guess how handsome he was before.

Now, he is beautiful. I realize I am weeping.

“Do you love Celestia?” he asks.

“Yes!” I shout the answer. The others respond with less enthusiasm, except for Dandelion. He is almost as loud as I.

“Can you look upon her glory without flinching?” he asks.

“Yes!” I can! I have practiced! I can do this! I force my gaze skyward toward the sun. My eyes squint almost shut, but I bend every ounce of my will toward forcing them apart. Nothing, nothing matters more than this. Her light stabs into my retinae, and after a few seconds I lower my head, panting. Spots swim in my vision. The balcony seems to be swaying. Around me, the other initiates groan. A few cry.

“Again,” the Hierophant says. “Longer.”

I find the sun again and stare. After a few seconds the pain overwhelms me.

Two initiates don’t try. Servants drag them off. The Hierophant tracks them with his sightless eyes.

“Failures. Insufficient piety. Again!”

I look up again. The stabbing pain is gone now, replaced by a dull ache that pulses in time with my heart. My vision dims, and though my eyes remain open I lose the sun for a moment in throbbing black spots. I shift my eyes to catch it again.

I don’t know how long we continue. One by one the other initiates fall, collapsing or shielding their eyes with their legs. They cannot bear her radiance like I can. They are dragged away to return to their ignominious lives. Only Dandelion and I remain.

I can’t hear him breathing anymore. I can’t hear anything – not the wind or the Hierophant’s voice or the soft swish of the servant’s cotton robes. I can only hear the sun whispering to me. I gasp in amazement and reach up toward it—

I am lying on my side on the burning marble. I can see nothing but darkness, afterimages and dancing shadows. I flail with my legs and strike something.

“Failure,” I hear the Hierophant say. “Insufficient piety.”

Strong legs grab me, lifting me half-upright. I begin to slide across the marble toward the tower and its shadows.

“No!” It is louder than I have ever screamed in my life. Something in my throat tears. “No! I can do this!”

I beat away their restraining grip and stumble back toward the center of the balcony, but I cannot see the way. I stop when my foreleg encounters the drop at the edge, and for a moment I hang suspended over the abyss. I teeter there, then tilt my head up again.

“Celestia!” I cry. I cannot find the sun, but I can feel her warmth on my face. I force my sightless eyes to open. Dimly, darkly, I see a spark. “Celestia! Choose me! I am worthy! I can see you, CHOOSE ME!”

I woke to a frantic clatter. Ponies ran in the hall outside my room. A moment later came the staccato knock of hooves against my door. I rose from the covers, blinking dumbly, just as the door burst open and Starlight pelted through.

“What’s wrong?” I blinked at her blearily. Even with no lights or lanterns or candles, I could see her perfectly.

“Applejack.” She panted. “Something’s happening. At the farm.”

A wave of cold dread washed over me. It woke me in an instant. I pushed the clinging bedsheets away and stumbled toward her. Then I remembered I didn’t need to use doors anymore. I turned, tossed the windows open with a thought, and jumped out into the night.

Comments

[Dlaf rferg]

Something tells me Applejack is... gone. How can one be more free than as a wanderer?

[Coronet the lesser]

So Twilight is not going blind. But rather her desire in her dreams to 'see' sunlight means that her eyesight has enhanced to the degree that she can see light even in the darkest of places...interesting.

Also uh-oh, Applejack has definitely gone AWOL hasn't she? She no longer desires to stay in Ponyville or with her family anymore, because she wants to be 'free'.

[Zuabug]

9556997
9557093
Agreed with Steel - not so much that the story has to be about him, I just expected him to be there since he's a big part of Twilight's family and we normally see him very often, compared to Trixie's being there as drama fodder. Compared to Bloom, we see him far more often, it'd be more like comparing him to Starlight, imo.

It's just odd to not see him or any mention of him, and considering the atmosphere the story's building, it seemed like it'd lead to something.

[Zuabug]

AAAAAAA CLIFFHANGER.

Not gonna lie, I would love to have more about the cult.

[djthomp]

Apparently there's a thin line between dreams and nightmares. I wonder if someone out at the farm just had their wings fall off.

[silvadel]

9558745
Maybe as a cloud?

[TheStratovarian]

Ah, Blind faith. that would be the bit that was missing.

Okay, that would line up.

And now we slide down down into a burning pit of 'this is fine'

[Coronet the lesser]

9559371

I suppose I was speaking merely of twilight’s physical appearance being a metaphor for her unwillingness to change and her blind faith in the status quo despite the fact that she is clearly changing herself.

She clearly isn’t blind but rather her vision has become so sensitive to light and the world around her that she needs to partially block it so as not to overwhelm her.

I think the changes are neither good or bad, they are just change which can be scary.

But Applejack may soon prove that last point wrong

[Love Moth]

Applejack has become a bird is my bet

[Cold in Gardez]

9559566

Well, what's good for one person may not be good for another. That's life!

[Venerable Ro]

Then I remembered I didn’t need to use doors anymore. I turned, tossed the windows open with a thought, and jumped out into the night.

Ah... Yer still an alicorn, right?

[FanOfMostEverything]

At least Twilight's opening up a little about her dreams. Though right now there's a lot more to be concerned about. Especially if it turns out Twilight's returned to a state where she does need to use doors.

[Cold in Gardez]

9559783
9559935

That would be a very anti-climactic start of the next chapter.

[Posh]

9559783
9559783

This is incredibly amusing, in hindsight.

9556867

Discord, I've changed my mind. Prepare for hentai tentacle molestation... I'm thinking "Berserk"-level.

why are you like this

[Alondro]

9560006 If I were to explain, I doubt you'd last very long.

The reality of Alondro is far more horrifying than mortal experience can bear.

Consider a being of absolute intellect, fathomless rage at all that displeases him, but the cunning and patience to last eons before striking the final, decisive blow.

That... has nothing to do with me.

I just like beating up Discord. Because I'm an even bigger dick than he is.

[StalwartHeart]

Who wouldn't dream of lost family?

[Crack-Fic Casey]

9560006
He's a shitpost generator given human form, and he's the sort of person who thinks that's a good thing.

[Sypher]

Oof, I had to wince at that description of Twilight's dream.

[equestrian.sen]

She peered at my eyes again. “What are you dreaming of, Twilight?”

“A sun so bright that it turns everything else dark, and I can’t see,” I said.

Me too, Twilight. Me too.