Speak to the Silence

by LysanderasD

The Memory Place

Speak to the Silence

a My Little Pony fanfic by LysanderasD

One: The Memory Place

The door to the guard barracks swung open, and the pegasus outside winced as he felt the heat of the sun-baked room move, with a slightly audible whoosh, out into the hallway proper. The evening sun was still glaring in through the windows, sliding slowly toward sunset, and though the world outside was slowly losing heat, this room, its color motif decidedly dark and with windows that faced west to the setting sun, felt to the pegasus more like an oven than anything else. He trotted in, grimacing, his red eyes glaring around the empty, smallish chamber. Of course nopony else was around; he’d met his replacement on the way here, and the rest of the Night Guard were out training. They’d be here soon enough, he knew, but his duties for the day, for all standing in front of the Moon Princess’ door all day to bar visitors that never came could be called a duty, were finished. Such was the fate of the low rung on the ladder, he mused, though not bitterly.

The room never looked nice during sunset, which was a pity, because it was the only time he got to see it. Rising early, armoring in the sporadic light of torches, training patrols, standing guard... he never really got a chance to see what it looked like at high noon, or better yet at midnight. The room was full of blacks and navy blues, and the beds (“Make them properly! You lousy buzzards, if I can’t bounce a bit off of that bedspread you’ll spend the night on the moon, so help me!”) had, if he might say so himself, a very pretty moon-and-stars motif.

His batlike wings fluttered, as did his tail, more subconsciously than anything, trying to fan the heat away from himself as he moved over to the shelf with his name on it. With a barely-suppressed yawn, he shook his head and brought a hoof up to pull off his helmet. There was a brief and very slightly unpleasant tingling sensation from his nose to his tail, and the illusion magic tied to the armor peeled off of him, leaving him looking more or less normal--bright gray, with a deep blue shock of hair for a mane which he could never do anything for. He still had the bat wings, but that particular illusion was tied to the armor, which he’d be getting off... if he could just... get his teeth... around... it...

“Galestorm?”

The natural pegasus response to a sudden threat is to move up, because ninety percent of the things that could possibly threaten a pegasus were insignificant at cloud height. This is a viable solution, as long as one is outdoors and had been raised in a cloud city, which he had, but in this particular instance indoors all it amounted to was a stunned pegasus impacting the ceiling and falling back to the floor with a heavy thud, wings splayed gracelessly, moaning.

“Oh my!”

His vision became obscured by an intense yellow-orange glow, and he felt the inexorable pull of magic yank him up and set him gently on his hooves again. If he had not been quite so dazed he would have protested; no pegasus liked being ensnared by magic... although his protest, if he’d made it, would have died in his throat as he realized exactly who was speaking to him.

Princess Celestia was standing in the doorway. Designed for, well, normal ponies, the door frame was slightly too small for her, and the pony called Galestorm could see her front legs bending to permit her to look inside. She was, for once, not wearing her perpetual serene look, with her mouth creased in a worried frown.

“I’m so sorry, my little pony, I... are you hurt?”

He shook his head, both to answer her question and to clear his own head and ringing ears. “N-no, Your Highness. I’m fine.” I went through worse in boot camp. “And... only Galestorm on duty, Your Highness, my real name is Breezeway.”

The Princess brightened immediately--literally brightened, very slightly. Only then did Breezeway realize exactly how much the alicorn stood out; the white and gold, never mind the aurora, stood stark against the blue, silver, and midnight black of the room. “Yes, my sister does have her... quirks. Breezeway, then. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but you were the sentry stationed near Princess Luna’s room today, weren’t you?”

“That’s correct, Your Highness,” he answered, swelling with pride. “Hoof-picked. Princess Luna asked for me specifically.”

“Did she now?” There was a pause, barely long enough for him to notice. The Princess’ expression didn’t so much as waver. “Have you seen her at all since this morning?”

“No, Your Highness.” Breezeway shook his head. “She returned to her chambers after breakfast but left again almost immediately.”

“Did she say where she was going, by any chance?”

The grey pegasus paused to think. “... Not exactly?” At Princess Celestia’s expectant look, he continued, “She told me to tell you, um, Your Highness, only if you asked... Well, frankly, I couldn’t make hide nor hair of it, but she said something about ‘going where only the first power could follow.’”

The expression on the Princess’ face changed instantly; the ever-present serenity had been wiped away by unmistakable gravity. The small frown was back, but this time he could tell it was not shaped from worry.

“Are you sure that’s what she said?” Celestia’s voice was as intense as the look in her magenta eyes.

“Positive, Your Highness. She was very... precise when she said it.” Breezeway’s ears had been ringing for an hour afterward. Strangely, a few minutes later, when he’d asked one of the maids if she’d heard anything coming down the hall, she said no, and added that the halls usually echoed with even the slightest noise; if there was anything to hear, she’d have heard it.

Breezeway had spent the rest of his shift trying to figure out exactly how that worked, and had come up with nothing. Well, magic, probably; he was a pegasus, he’d leave all the spell business to those with horns.

Suddenly the same orange-yellow glow from before enveloped him. He let out a whinny automatically, wings flaring, stopping just short of taking off (fortunately) when he realized that it had to be the Princess. Even so, the feeling of being ensnared in a ‘corn’s aura was liked being rubbed all over with small water-filled bags that were just slightly too smooth, shifting and rippling uncomfortably over his skin; his hair stood on end and one hoof came up uncertainly, but then it was gone, and he noticed his armor neatly arranged on its shelf. He shook himself to free his body of the last of the uncanny sensation. Like being held in a vicegrip and being untouched at one and the same time; softer than cotton and harder than steel. At least his wings were back to normal.

The Princess was speaking to him. He snapped to attention, but before he caught anything more than “good evening,” the tall pony had turned and left, the door closing behind her, enveloped in the same magical aura. He took one last look to make sure his armor was all in order before following her out, peeking his head from the door as he opened it. Though the hallways of the Moonside Wing stretched quite far in either direction, the Princess of the Sun had already vanished.

---

Having lived for as long as she had, Celestia had gotten very good at multitasking. Very often her body would set itself on auto-pilot, a kind of mental Come To Life spell, while all of her thoughts turned inward. And she certainly had a lot to think about.

It was funny, really, how Breezeway could say one thing and unleash a wave of melancholy that Celestia hadn’t felt in... well, centuries, she had to be honest. Had it really been that long since she’d even thought about such things? Running a country does tend to keep one busy, but there are things that should be remembered. There are always things that should be remembered. How long had she forgotten them?

Her subconscious certainly hadn’t. The instant the door had closed behind her, she’d Blinked, unconsciously, or tried to, her destination firmly in mind, but she found herself rebuffed by wards stronger than any normal pony could establish. The sensation of Blinking into a barrier was one she’d only felt a few times in her life, and she never did get used to it; it felt rather like smashing into a wall and shattering every bone in her body, if there had been a substance in the cosmos capable of breaking her bones; but at the same time it felt like diving into a super-soft, extraordinarily springy pillow, one that caught her, cradled her, and then very gently bounced her back out. The end result was somewhere in the middle, because when she finally pulled out of her introspection long enough to realize where she was, she was standing with all four hooves braced and wings spread, slightly breathless.

This was an ancient wing of Castle Canterlot, one that few knew existed and fewer visited, built directly into the mountain rather than out on top of it. It was protected by a dual set of Blinking Barriers; one that she and her sister could pass through, and one that even they could not pierce, forcing them to stop at the beginning of the hallway. Strictly speaking it wasn’t even part of the castle; the only thing connecting it was a passage at the west end that lead all the way up, under the streets of the city and through the walls of the castle, to a hidden panel in the wall in Celestia’s own bedchambers. There was a branching path that lead to Luna’s, but, with a slight sinking feeling, Celestia realized that she had never had it unsealed. Luna would certainly have noticed the tinge of solar magic gracing one wall, but she had never asked about it, and it was certainly beyond her to unseal it without brute force. Even then Celestia would have felt it.

The wing had not been visited with anything resembling regularity in centuries, though the lack of care was hidden by a very carefully-laid, custom-wrought preservation spell that kept the red- and blue-lined rug in pristine condition, and the portraits on the walls unfaded. It was dark here. Darker than it should have been. The candles on the walls had been set with a simple Everburning, and she had never seen any need to change it; the small hall was decently lit as it was. But the signs of her sister’s presence and her... tastes were unmistakable; the orange flames had been snuffed out and replaced by blue-black flames that seemed almost to be absorbing the heat from the already-chilly room. The entire chamber was coated in a blue ambiance that she could not define in any other way than eerie, and though she did not shiver, she could see her breath condensing as she exhaled.

Celestia ruffled her wings slightly, drawing herself up and borrowing some of the sun’s warmth, easing the cold away. She loved her little sister; she did, truly, dearly, more than anypony else in the world, but for the sake of the solar system she could not understand Luna’s idea of decoration. Everything looked depressing; sometimes she wondered how aware Luna was of the image she presented. Perhaps Twilight Sparkle had taught her a thing or two during Nightmare Night, because she seemed to have lightened up... very slightly since then. At least she had stopped abusing the Voice.

The Voice. Thinking about that brought her catapulting back to where she was, and why. Her body had been moving for her again, drawing her slowly down the hall. She could already see the mirror at the end, even in the low light; against the backdrop of the gloomy hall (though it was certainly not meant to be gloomy, she grumbled silently to herself), her white coat and softly-glowing aurora mane shimmered and stood out.

The mirror was the only thing of note in the entire wing; really it was closer to a single hallway with a mirror at the end. There were no other rooms, no other pathways, just a straight line from the entrance to the mirror at the end, a distance that she crossed in what felt like no time at all.

It was not much taller than she was; if she craned her neck the tip of her horn could graze the border. Nor was it broad; it was about twice her width, more or less exactly wide enough for her and her sister to stand side-to-side looking into it. That had been the intention, originally, though had not managed to happen before the Nightmare took hold and shattered what had until then been a perfect relationship. Along the edges, gold, silver, white, and blue spiralled together in intricate patterns. She stood before the mirror alone, as she had done before, wings carefully folded at her side, and stared into her own magenta eyes.

She always paused here; she wasn’t sure why. It seemed like the right thing to do; maybe it was in remembrance of the sister she had once lost. Even though Luna had since returned, and had even obviously visited this hall, the white alicorn kept her moment of silence, waiting for about two minutes.

Finally, she closed her eyes, took a long, low breath, held it in for a moment, and touched the very tip of her horn to the mirror.

quid primum et maximum Potestatem est

On the one hoof, it could be said that the mirror was the thing that spoke; it would not be wholly wrong. Yet the voice, if it could be called a voice, had not simply come from the object in front of her. Reality itself posed the question to her; the stones around her asked, as did the rug her hooves rested upon.

Silence descended: the kind of deafening silence that pressed down into her ears and begged to be broken; so she opened her mouth, speaking to the silence, and answered the question with a Voice strong enough to shatter any normal mirror.

Vox.

The surface her horn was touching shimmered and rippled, and with a roar it surged out, engulfed her, and dragged her in. She did not resist.

She found herself floating in space. No, she corrected herself, looking down. She was not floating. Her hooves were on a solid surface. From all appearances, however, there was nothing directly beneath her. She looked up, around, and her jaw lowered of its own accord. This was a view she had seen only rarely. She was surrounded by stars.

This was one ability of Luna’s that she had never been able to master, not even in a thousand years of practice. Oh, she could raise the moon, she could toy with the stars, but only in the manner of a toymaker who had to stick to a prescripted design. The stars were always the same, always constant, the moon always followed the same dry arc through the sky. Luna had admitted as much about the sun, once, when she had tried to guide it long ago.

Celestia stepped forward, her hooves impacting soundlessly on the not-surface she was walking on, eyes wandering around and examining her sister’s art.

And art it was. Sometimes Celestia had to admit to herself that deep down she was a little jealous of her little sister. She had said it herself, once; written it in the sky in a fit of fillyhood jealousy over some petty argument she couldn’t properly remember. Tia, you control one sun.

She was surrounded by tiny globes of light, ones that shimmered and shone and seemed to sing and wave and dance in a way she couldn’t quite put her hoof on. Galaxies swung ponderously around her, deep reds, blues, magentas, teals, colors she couldn’t even find a name for, all singing and dancing and celebrating. A very tiny planet swung by her snout, and she focused on it until it passed out of view, passing behind a nearby star. You control one sun. I control--

I control millions.

The Voice seemed to coincide with her memories perfectly. She looked up, forward, toward the stars that had Spoken. Two teal colored galaxies slowly swing toward each other before stopping a short distance apart. They blinked

thousands of stars were silenced, suddenly, a patch of space rendered dark and bare and cold

and resolved themselves into Luna’s eyes, the rest of her sister slowly appearing from the void. They stood mere inches apart, suddenly, which probably translated to several hundreds of thousands of miles; Celestia had never been very good with specifics.

Luna’s eyes, Luna’s whole expression, was decidedly displeased, and the stars clustered around her almost defensively.

“I wonder, sister,” she said finally, “how long it would have been before thou toldst me of this place.”

Celestia shrunk back, abashed. The ice in Luna’s eyes was unwavering.

“Of course,” continued the Moon Princess, voice dripping with sarcasm, “it takes time and thought to run a country. Things tend to slip one’s mind.” She huffed, one silver-shod hoof scuffing the not-floor.

“It’s a memory place,” Celestia said finally, softly, looking back up at her sister. “It’s a place where everything remembers...”

“I can see that.” Luna looked around. “These are the oldest stars, the oldest galaxies. They are sharing with me their memories, the things they have seen and heard and learned. I have watched the universe be born time and time again, Spoken into being. I have watched Mo...” her voice caught, and she trailed off.

“I made it for you,” Celestia added finally. “I made it when you were frustrated about having to leave the old castle in Everfree. You always had been attached to that place, and to Mother, and to all the ponies that had come and gone there... I knew you’d never want to forget them.”

But then you had a terrible dream, she added, louder than she’d intended. The stars shook a little. She closed her eyes. “You had a terrible dream, a cruel dream, and it took form, your form, and when everything was said and done I had trapped that terrible dream on the moon and it had taken my sister with it.” Her volume had risen with every word, but she had been careful about going too far, about Speaking too loudly.

She inhaled, calmed herself, and opened her eyes. Luna was staring at her still, although her aqua eyes had softened.

“But you’re back now. You’re back, and that terrible dream has ended forever, and now I...” She paused. “I want this to be... our place, Luna. A place where we can be ourselves, a place where we can remember, where we don’t have to rule.”

There was silence for a long time; magenta eyes stared into aqua ones, and neither one blinked.

“Do you remember Mother?” said Luna, finally, in a very small, almost foalish voice.

Celestia moved forward, finally, moved up and next to her sister, looking down at her. The Moon Princess kept her eyes downcast, and one hoof scuffed at the ground again. Very slowly, Celestia put out a wing and covered her sister’s back, drawing her into a hug.

I would never forget her, she whispered, loud enough to shake the stars.

There was a wrenching, a disorienting rush that lasted minutes or maybe days or maybe only seconds. The stars had gone out, and there was only darkness.

Let’s remember together, added Celestia, squeezing Luna reassuringly. She closed her eyes, and without being told she knew Luna had done the same.

Together, the younger alicorn agreed.

Together, they opened their eyes.

---

Author’s Notes

Obligatory disclaimer: the My Little Pony franchise, along with all related official material, belongs to Hasbro et al. No monetary compensation is expected or will be accepted for my efforts in writing this story, and I am in no way affiliated with or related to aforementioned company.

On more personal notes, I would like to thank

A. Muffin and Ro9ge, for being there to watch and prevent too many mistakes, and for pestering me to get off of my flank and actually work on this.

Alex Griffin and Azathoth of Rock, for the encouragement to write this.

Darren Korb, for composing the Bastion soundtrack, which is mostly what I listened to while I wrote this.

Now onto more general notes.

I am not sure I am happy with the end of this chapter. Do tell what you think; it may end up being revised at a later date.

I am not fluent in Latin, as you can probably tell. I’m assuming that somepony out there is; if you’d be kind enough to help by conjugating that question properly, I’d be your best friend. I’d also fix it in-story and credit you. Don’t worry; I don’t plan on using much, if any, more Latin in this story.

I cannot promise any kind of regular update schedule, being that I am a college student who seems to have a masochistic tendency toward taking classes that require hours’ and hours’ worth of paper-writing. I will at the very least try for a chapter every two weeks, and if I don’t hold to that, please pester me, but understand that sometimes I have to set pony aside for real life. Dammit.

Comments

[Cloudhammer]

An excellent read, hoping to see more from you in the future

[Mobius of the Moon]

Thank you Cloudhammer, for sating my words for me. Great read! I'm tracking!

[Mobius of the Moon]

104882
stating not sating

[LysanderasD]

104868 I'm glad you enjoyed it! I'll be sure to look into your own stories when I get the chance.

104882 Wow! Thanks so much. I'm super happy that you liked this, I wasn't sure how bronies would react.

Gonna start work on chapter 2 here pretty quick, we'll see how quickly I can get it done.