The Trinity of Moons: Mending Shards

by Cloud Ring

Chapter 50: Desolation

↯↯↯

Dartline walked over to the mirror, holding out a hoof, and never touched it. Her wings a bit ruffled, the dark blue pegasus turned to Solid Line’s capsule, walked along it and touched the cat lying on it with her nose — the cat did not react much, only opened its bright green eyes.

Wonder what color Solid’s eyes are... Dartline thought idly and began to push the capsule with her forehead towards the mirror. Soon she saw that it’s not working and her hooves are sliding on the smooth floor, while the capsule does not even move.

The pegasus grumbled, retreated to the corner of the dimly lit room, where Storm’s observation device worked silently, leaned over to the camera's peephole and calmly said, “Reputable one? I don’t exactly remember your name, but I can’t push your sleeping princess alone here, so either you come here or whatever.”

Then she curled up on the floor, covered herself with a wing, and in a few beats fell asleep. The light of Blue Moon shone through the hole in the closed and locked door of the vault.

The door shifted open pretty soon — slowly, heavily letting in the light. Dartline, once poked by an armored hoof, woke up and moved a little faster.

Before leaving, she and Storm had a cup of hot coffee with dried gingerbread.

There was no more reason to postpone, and, once again yawning profoundly, Dartline fell over the mirror’s edge without a sound, lying on the capsule, the cat under her wing.

The fall was short — reflexes kicked in, the body bent slightly, wings caught air and Dartline landed on the soft, loose slope of wet black soil.

At least she landed, and did not fall like a stone.

There was no city; in the magnetic sense the lines were sometimes disturbed only by lightning above. Foliage rustled high overhead; thunder rolled, never truly going silent; long pinkish-white flashes glittered in the overlying clouds — the flashes were like the ones at the distant descent-of-Blue. There was no rain, but judging by the weather, it could pour at any beat.

Dartline looked around. This is not reality, do not get carried away, she reminded herself sternly, Blackie and Plum are the first to find, the rest will follow.

There was neither capsule, nor cat, nor mirror nearby. There was the Forest, and its whispers evoked long and viscous dreams. Dartline took a few steps, spotted a comfortable place among the thick roots, yawned and shook her head sharply.

Taking off in one strong swing, she hovered high in the sky, between tree tops and low clouds. The dark blue pegasus stayed in place without any effort under the chaotic but not so harsh gusts of wind. The weather was all fury and darkness, or rather painted an image of that, but did not particularly try to show that it was doing it in earnest.

“I'm not the sleepyhead you think I am,” Dartline muttered under her breath. According to the experience of communication with Metropolis, this was enough — in those cases when Metropolis was deigned to even listen to Dartline’s opinion. This means that the Red will likely hear too.

She could wait until the Red grows irate and changes the scene, or live on the stage offered. The latter option was simpler, and soon Dartline, aligned for ascent-of-Blue by magnetic sense, flew towards the direction. There was no Blue Moon to be found, but the pegasus was not particularly worried about that. The Forest was a dark rag

...three purple flares from below and from both her sides...

spread below; Dartline shook her head to wave off the spark of alien memory. For a time she flew around a downpouring cloudfront and returned to course, mostly forgetting about it by then.

Then the Forest ended. More precisely, it changed its appearance on the edge of the enormous crater and began to descend into it cautiously, bending down, in rare low pines among sloping and cracked stone slabs, covered with green and purple moss. Now Dartline knew where she was — the place was one of the few notable points of the Forest, a landmark.

Except the crater was different. The rim still curved to the horizon, but the slope was much sharper, deeper, more abrupt. The Forest did not completely cover it, as it should in Dartline’s reality, and closer to the center, on black basalt, it quickly faded away, and then completely disappeared, unable to step onto the glass edge of what was once sand.

Dartline raised an eyebrow and flew on. Dead glass glistened below until it ended too. Dartline hovered in the air, looking down and trying to figure out what she was seeing.

Glass edge had been cut in a circle too precise to be natural. As if a powerful unicorn had created a protective hemisphere and prevented the fire from coming in... the sphere, Dartline corrected herself. If the rocky base melted here...

Inside the circle — a wide meadow, once a lawn; clover, dandelions, cornflowers living together with no care at all, limited by the glass.

The ruins of a castle in the middle — broken off spires with conical roofs lay on the grass, the upper floors dismantled by the onslaught of time, only buttressed walls remained of them. The central line once divided the castle equally into obsidian and marble halves.

And — points for ordinary eyes, figures and faces for Dartline — three ponies were beside the ruins. Two unicorns and a pegasus, all in shades of yellow and pink, all sitting in a tight circle. Solid Line, and?..

Dartline dived towards them; maybe faster than she should.

“Which one of you is the Red?” she asked bluntly, “Who should I talk to? Did you see Blackline or Plum?”

“We thought it was you who is the Red…” the pegasus said, and even out loud she made an ellipsis impression. “I'm Fluttershy, there is Solid Line — my former and future caretaker — and this is Signal Line, her aunt. We haven't seen anypony but you.”

Signal Line adjusted her glasses and looked sternly at Dartline, “We have an acquaintance already. I am the reimplant.”

“You're prettier as a pony,” Dartline said honestly. The other two chuckled for some reason, Dartline glared at them, and they waved their hooves away in a ‘you won't understand’ sense.

Well, okay, no explanation needed, thought Dartline. Three beats passed.

“Well, what are we waiting for and where is the Red?” the blue pegasus asked and yawned again.

Fluttershy hesitated, “We think it is in the castle, and we aren’t welcome there,” she said finally.

To prove that, Fluttershy approached the break in the wall in the ruins, took a step, and stopped at the threshold, as if stuck by an invisible barrier.

She came closer to Dartline, “We tried to enter in different ways and in all combinations. Then we talked. Solid Line believes that the correct solution is to propose the Red to become the Moon. The real Moon, the fourth of three. Otherwise, the world will die sooner or later. The Trinity can not keep the world truly stable.”

Dartline pressed her ears and with a huge effort did not express her opinion on this matter.

“Well, do propose, for all the stars devouring,” she exhaled and flattened herself in the meadow, soon snoring quietly. Then, without opening her eyes, she added, “If something changes, wake me up. If you find any way to get to Blackie and Plum, wake me up too. I have nothing to add. You are the smart mares here.”

Then she began to snore for real.

Dartline’s dream was deep and calm. Blood was barely audible in her ears, and the Red was somewhere nearby. And Dartline began to feel it and understand it.

More precisely, the Red was everywhere. But somewhere there was more of it; so Dartline would have tried to describe it in a letter, had she the mood to deviate from the once made and still holding request of Metropolis to refrain from any means of disclosure.

Once the Red was a pony. Therefore, unlike Metropolis, it could not be completely everywhere.

In each of the doubles, in the traveler who still had been returning victorious, in anypony who visited the demesne of the Red alive, in the sore wounds left by its rays, there was enough of the Red to hear...

...but not enough to be.

A scattered presence wherever its symbols, guides and pathways were, but only one point where it could appear like a pony, or before ponies, if it wanted to convey something to the world or to its guests.

And not everywhere these signs and conduits of power were enough to shift this single point to them, to provide it with some kind of actual appearance and allow for something more than a passing thought or a vision.

Metropolis, in comparison, was present perfectly and evenly everywhere within Her continent-spanning body. But Her origin was not from a living pony.

However, there was enough resemblance to—

"May I, please?" Dartline asked without waking up.

🔴🔴🔴

It was not a shame. It was not an actual curiosity. The Red knew enough about bacteria and viruses to open an isolated entrance for such a case. An entrance that will not affect the Red in any way.

The only feeling was subdued interest. In the three-dimensional local time, only seven times — before? Or after that? Aside from that? — the Red had been asked — will be asked? Could be, probably, asked? — for such a contact.

Among the multitude of sensations, this had not yet become meaningless.

But the Red removed this feeling too. No external information, words, feelings and emotions. Nothing that could harm it in an unknown way.

It did not feel when Dartline integrated with it.

↯↯↯

Being of the Red was unimaginably huge and crushingly empty. Disease-causing life, its main art, was unable to think on its own, and among the innumerable spaces that could become worlds, true worlds were relatively representable and finite in numbers.

A memory lane that turns into dreams of the future and back, eaten away at the edges by the salt of time. Several test sites. Then, one world per everypony that came to it — will come? Have a chance to come?

There were, of course, many such spaces too, incredibly many, from the pony's point of view.

For Dartline they were notably fewer in number than lit, cozy and waiting windows in Metropolis.

Small enough number to check them all. To find Blacklight by a hot fire on the shores of a dark ocean, and Plum Jam — tall, strong, still restlessly alive in her middle age, at a festive table covered and decorated with candles, spinning around to look at one or the other old mare next to her.

She remembered these particles of bitter and thirsty infinity, as well as the lines of flight to them from the world where the sleeping biological body of Dartline lay, the one arbitrarily labelled as the ‘main’ one.

She lingered at Plum Jam’s one because the Red was there; and — not without surprise — accompanied it to the very ruined castle. Into the main world.

Dartline woke up, as always, remembering little from a time of integration with a higher-dimension entity. Almost nothing but bitterness on the tongue, emptiness in the stomach and a few key images, knowledge, directions. Exactly as many as she — an ordinary pony — will not forget while they still mean something.

“Now it will let us in. The keeper of the castle had been busy; it is not anymore,” Dartline said to ponies. She waited for them to get it. She repeated it one more time, in spite of the coming fatigue. Integrations were always exhausting.

Then she, the first of the four, stepped through the arch of the entrance.

The smell of rot filled the calm air here. Not the harsh stench of putrid flesh, but of cool, soft, comfortable decay. Leaves that have fallen many seasons ago, yellow grass that will never turn green. A wet wood with no one to whitewash it.

Dartline looked around. The once white polished stone had its edges conquered by green plant slime. The bindweed lashes hanging from above had dried up long ago, turned black and brittle.

The Red met them a throw or two further in — a tall figure in a black blanket with yellow-orange embroidery, a deep hood. Even the long and thin horn was all but hidden under it, a faint yellowish hint.

Nothing threatening in its posture or words — there were no words from it anyway. Solid Line said she did not want to attack, and the Red nodded silently. Fluttershy added quietly that she didn't want to either, but... what was after that, nopony heard. Signal, standing between Fluttershy and Solid, stepped forward, and without a word it was clear that an adult unicorn is posturing to defend foals — even if they bore only the likeliness of ones.

The vast semicircle of the marble wall has once been the border of the garden. Under the dry, blackened foliage, among tree trunks and other debris, paths and benches were still noticeable. Closer to them stood a bowl of a marble fountain filled with rotten leaves.

The Red silently moved, walked over to a particularly large pile of rubbish. It appeared to Dartline that a head was sticking out of the garbage; why yes, of course, it was a head. Dartline carefully uncovered it all from the trash.

The graceful snow-white statue once depicted an alicorn. Now it was lying on its side. Judging by the broken legs — they were still nearby — it was swept from the pedestal by an unknown force, with no care or attention, like a foal’s toy, broken and not loved anymore by the now-adult.

Dartline wanted to go further, but Signal stopped her with a movement of her hoof. Something was wrong here.

Each sculptor could depict any of the Moons to all their heart’s content... but there were only so many confluences and interweaving of possible aspects, except cases where artists were working in teams. Attentive eyes could make a grid consisting of about square nine… not exactly art schools but established canonical images and messages. "Searing Fury", "Mother of Fertility", "Justice in Sorrow"... art historians have argued for many eras about complete and definitive lists, and such lists were for the most part done.

Dartline did not memorize them, unlike her friend — she only had a keen eye and really weak alignment for Blue Moon. And yet, she was sure that such an image was definitely not used in Metropolis before.

Tall, long neck and legs, muscles and veins, ready to break into a joyful run in a beat. A lively face full of good-natured cunning, The alicorn seemed to be about to wink. Large, strong, but lithe body and croup — proportional, but emphatically convex. In principle, the sculpture could resemble those that are placed on secluded lawns, if ponies want to align the place itself to White Moon, but that was only the closest option, not an exact answer.

The statue still seemed alive. Whoever made it, the sculptor knew the alicorn well — in body and in soul.

Looking around, they entered an unlit passage, and the Red walked among them as a shadow, as if it were originally part of the team. It was not trying to lead or give directions.

They climbed a twisted staircase lightly littered with debris into what had once been private rooms.

By an unknown whim of nature, this part has been best preserved. If it were not for the dust lying on everything — on the remains of a carpet, furniture, on a large made bed — one would think that ponies still live here. Even the dusty light shining through the tattered curtains was warmer. There was nopony in the room.

The ponies looked at Red, sometimes stopping. In these cases the Red stopped too without a word; Fluttershy came back to it and asked, “Are we going right?”

The Red nodded.

They gave up on counting time, moving from one empty room to another and breathing the air long ago abandoned even by sadness itself. The throne room, naked and not at all majestic, just an echoing stone space with two cracked thrones between broken windows; useless fragments of stained glass under jambs. Another garden, now with a black statue, tumbled down with no care too... by the same artist, Dartline noted to herself. Armory with rust in place of weapons, a kitchen with no fire in ovens, pantries where only dust was kept.

They walked around the royal section of the palace. Guest rooms were deeper in, through another single passage in the lobby room.

There they first met a door that did not give in to them. After a little hesitation, Solid cut out the doorway with a neat beam. Debris poured down to their hooves, dust began to swirl.

“Wow!” Dartline exhaled at the sight of the library. Or rather of no library. This room seemed thoroughly trashed a long time ago. The secret hope to profit from something unique died without being born.

Every shelf, every page, even every tile on the floor has been meticulously and violently destroyed. A layer of debris three steps high in the middle of the bare walls was all that remained, and a hole with melted, curved, edges was in place of the ceiling.

They did not go inside, and returned to the lobby to rest.

Then the Red spoke up, and there was no threat in its voice. Fluttershy turned to it, lay down in front of the Red, lifting her head to it. Small yellow wings were slightly open, symmetrically and gracefully, as if the pegasus itself was also a statue, and the border between the Red and the team. Solid Line and Signal summoned a protective field together, but listened too. Two lines of ants and slugs entwined the Red's legs, and climbed up to its chest.

“Do you see anything of mine here?” asked the Red, and did not wait for an answer, “No. This is the Castle of the Two Sisters, I never dared even raise my voice in their presence.”

Solid Line stepped forward, holding the shield, “No, we saw nothing of you here. Are you saying that the Moons erased all memory of you? But this is your world, you can build it up with your statues all you want.”

The Red stepped forward, but Fluttershy spread her wings wider, and the step was interrupted in its first third.

“No.” the Red said quietly. “I gave everything to them.”

Solid Line winced at the — once again — deliberately informal pronoun usage for the Moons, but other than Dartline, nopony seemed to notice.

“They are higher beings, the world rests on them. I developed new ways of processing insects into flour, and even the shadow of hunger left Equestria. I created new protective enchantments, new weapons, fabrics that themselves exuded magic, in which the ponies simply could not freeze or overheat. And everything that I did, I gave them, foolishly and recklessly. I was mortal, my time would be running out while theirs will not. They accepted my gifts, and I studied, trained and fought for the sisters. I was the best one, invincible and incomparable — I was there for them and for their sake. There was nopony who would challenge my right to be the first at the closest step to the two thrones! All challengers were at least nine steps down, that’s how much more powerful I had been!”

Solid Line interrupted, “No. I do not believe you. Nopony can get all aspects. Attention and care for others, working together... a well-coordinated trio is always stronger and more useful than a loner.”

The blanket of an alicorn burned right on its body, and a dangerous yellow-orange heat enveloped the damned one in a spiky aura. Cyan eyes shone with inner fire, “Believe it or not, but it was so! I was unsurpassed, merciless, and prepared to do anything for their sake, with my body and my soul, and life itself, and just the way they want — and they both were using me as a worthy tool, not excluding sexual purpose! You can’t get it, your mind is cut short, and I say it as is — you do not know what true servitude is!”

Solid shook her head, “I don’t mean to offend you, but it sounds disgusting. This kind of life is not good for ponies.”

The Red took another step, raised her leg to step on Fluttershy's head, but stumbled over the oncoming gaze, and instead flew over her, falling awkwardly on its side. The fire of her rage ignited the dust on the floor, and the party was forced to retreat, dropping to the ground and squinting; Dartline frowned and tried to summon the cold of Blue Moon to extinguish the flames, but it flared even brighter.

“Please calm down,” was said quietly and indisputably. Fluttershy stood behind Red and looked at her and the squad with a sad, disapproving and ‘I expected better from you’ look on her face.

The Red did not stop burning. Its flame became barely tickling with warmth; not searing hot anymore. Three beats later, she sighed, “I didn't ask for awards. I didn't need any. I did everything only for them to be happy. And what do you think I got in the end?”

Dartline shook her head, “I don’t know, and it’s not that important. You hurt, kill and torture ponies. No mistakes of the past can justify this.”

The Red laughed, and its answer in deceptive whisper cracked the floor beneath them, sending them tumbling in the darkness, “They murdered me. Thrice.”

In the fall, Dartline managed to grab and hold Signal, but Solid was less fortunate: she slipped out of Fluttershy's grip and fell heavily on her back, hooves up.

Dartline looked around.

They were in a cave, on the banks of an underground pool lined with gray stone. Its far end was lost in the darkness. At the near end, under a torch, an old but sturdy boat was tied.

Having gathered around Solid, who was bruised but relatively fine, and having given her first aid, they went to look for exits. Then a dull rumble shook the cave. The boat danced on the waves. Above them, as Dartline flew up, nothing but a cold stone — the ceiling closed up as a trap. Along the edges of the pool were the walls of the cave.

Does it want to drown us? A dumb way to die, for sure...

They rowed for a long time. The torchlight faded behind. The silence of the underground hall was broken only by the splash of oars on the water.

A ghostly blue light loomed ahead. A third of a slice later, the boat struck the rock bottom and came to a stop. Dartline and Fluttershy were able to soar but unicorns had to climb into the icy water; then the low ceiling forced pegasi to dive as well. Fortunately, the icy underwater tunnel was short.

The ghostly fire turned out to be a bonfire, but the steady blue crown exuded only cold. A light wind blew in their faces. They were no longer in the cave. A bonfire burned on a sandbank by the ocean.

The Red was sitting by the fire.

“Greetings again—” it began, but Dartline interrupted it.

“Later, our friend feels bad.”

First, they massaged Solid thoroughly. Then, unceremoniously pulling several logs of driftwood from the shore, they lit a fire — real fire, hot and yellow. After making sure that Solid was not going to freeze after all, and covering her with both wings — lying above, to heat Solid up with her own body, Dartline remembered that yes, they were in the lair of the Red. And — where was it?

“Don’t be alarmed, they will help your friend to regain her strength. I have a story of what did not exactly happen, and I’d like for you all to hear it,” a voice said.

Eight ants crawled in a line into Solid Line's open mouth.

Comments

[Numinos]

Gah, a cliffhanger!

Still, it was an interesting world to experience. Not to really understand, not to have all the world building questions answered, but to have glances and glimpses of the larger universe... Interesting feelings, it's rare to have them being invoked by a story. Waiting for the end : )