XXIII - In Loving Memory
XXIII
In Loving Memory
“Is he going to be alright?” The voice hung suspended in the air by its own desperation.
“The burns may scar, but he will survive longer than we if I do not step outside this place.” Domineering, calm, and smooth, Luna’s voice was unmistakable. “Keep close watch on him, and should this place begin to shudder, find me in the gallery. I will need you to hold my mind together; I have little enough magic that I might spend even that preserving this place.”
“But he—”
“Silence.”
At great expense in pain and sweat, Mirror Image forced his eyes open. The crackling of ash and the tension of charred hair that accompanied the motion were in no way promising of comfort. He opened his mouth to speak, and managed to squeeze a single drop of a moan from the stone that was his throat.
“Mirror?” Luna—looking altogether too mortal for Image’s comfort, with a mundane mane of pale blue and the creases of stress and age on her muzzle—leaned over into his vision. Behind her, Eldest Sister smiled with her hungry fangs, and a shimmering sea of blue sky stretched onto forever, unbroken by clouds or pegasi. “I am gladdened that you have wakened, but I must depart, or your cunning in the volcano will have been for nothing.”
Volcano? His mind wondered, as Luna turned to step away. Had there been a volcano? He was sure there had. Eldest Sister tapped the princess on the shoulder with an irritated hoof. He remembered a bag too, and a heartbeat, and dragons. Oh, and an explosion.
Luna turned with exasperation, and Cannon matched the motion by gesturing to her mouth repeatedly with a leathery wing.
“What is so pressing?” Luna demanded. Eldest continued to gesture to her mouth, again and again. “Just tell me!”
He remembered the void crystal now. An explosion of black and ash.
“Finally!” Eldest groaned. “You gave me a direct order, Mistress. I had to be silent.”
He had heard it coming. He knew the room was too small to offer an escape. But how were they still alive?
“I’m sorry,” Luna replied, her voice waving from its most familiar tone. “Truly, I ask your forgiveness. But now I need to go.” And then she was gone, in a haze of stars against the pale blue.
Image pushed himself up on a forehoof, and groaned at the action. Eldest rushed to his side, wrapping a wing over his back. “Don’t move, Image. Here, let me help.” The wing was frigid, and it grew only colder as she lifted its twin to his mouth, dangling a slender icicle from the little elbow at the center of the leathery limb. “I can’t make water, but see if this helps your throat.”
Uncomfortable with the gesture, Image nevertheless leaned forward, crunching off a bite of the ice. It burned, but it was all the comfort of the Summer Lands when he swallowed. There had been something in his throat, he was sure; something awful washed away by the mouthful of pure water. “Thanks,” he managed, still sounding hoarse but no longer suffering beyond the hope of speech.
“You saved us, Image,” she answered with that lopsided grin he used to like, tainted by carnivorous fangs. “I think the least I can do is get you a little water.”
“What did I do? I remember the void crystal, but after that…”
“You threw us in the creepy heartbeat-bag. The Mistress explained it to me. Something about… pocket-planes, and dispelling, and void crystals eating enchantments? I don’t do the whole ‘magic’ thing, but I guess the gist is the inside of the bag isn’t actually in the same place as the outside of the bag. So when the void crystals ate the magic that was making the bag work, instead of staying in Krennotets with the outside of the bag, we got trapped in the made-up magic place where the inside of the bag was.”
Image nodded, hiding just a little bit of pride. It was clever—well, more than clever, really, given that he’d apparently come up with it in the space of four seconds. He only wished he could remember the actual act. “How did I survive, then?”
“I think Mistress grabbed you.” The thestral shrugged. “But we aren’t out of Everfree yet. The place where the inside of bag is isn’t actually safe either. I guess it’s where dead ponies go, or where magic comes from, or something. Mistress cast another spell on us, and took us in here.” Eldest’s wing gestured toward the smooth gradient of pale blue that stretched on to eternity. Nearby, Image could see… something… hanging in the air like a painting without a wall, and as his eyes grew focused, more of the strange rectangles faded into view. “She called it the Memory Gallery.”
“We’re in her head?” Image forced himself forward and sat upright. Eldest moved to stop him, and he pushed the mare away with a hoof. “I’m tougher than I look.”
“Believe me, Image, I remember.” She attempted to ruffle his mane, but the stallion pulled away. Her ears splayed ever so slightly outwards along with the subtle downward curve of her lips. “Fine. Be like that. Can you at least call me Cannon, like you used to?”
The stallion frowned. “I thought you weren’t supposed to—”
“As if you ever cared about the rules.” In a motion Image thought was rather brave, Eldest Sister stuck her tongue through an incredibly narrow gap in her fangs. “Now come on. I wanna look at these memories.”
“You want to go poking around in Princess Luna’s memories? Do I even need to explain why that’s a bad idea?”
Eldest rolled her slitted eyes. “You used to be fun, Mirror. Fine. You can sit here all on your own if you want; we’re never gonna have a chance like this again, and I wanna see history and stuff.” With that groaning retort, the thestral turned her back and paced away down the long line of memories.
Image rubbed a hoof on his brow and groaned as he slowly came to terms with reality: there was no way in Tartarus he wasn’t following her. He stood up, and with only a split second of vertigo, found his balance on the indigo nothing that stretched off from the ground into the horizon.
Eldest’s wings had carried her off a considerable distance. The unicorn gritted his teeth, tilted his split horn forward, and broke into a run. As he passed the ‘memory frames’, voices cried out to him, sounding sepia and strained as if he were somehow hearing the slow process of forgetfulness.
“Spike and I are going to go see Tirek’s—” A filly Luna, her brow curiously lacking a horn, smiled almost too broadly for her tiny jaw.
An older Luna, lacking a horn, stood with her wings spread and covered in ice before a badly burnt elk doe. “You’ll never have her, Discord!”
Image bit down on his cheek before his curiosity could seize him.
“Yes, we knew,” Luna said, taking a seat by an aging pegasus clad in familiar black armor. “But we do not intervene with ponies. Not anymore.”
“Eldest!” Image locked his knees and slid to a stop on… whatever it was he was standing on.
The thestral cocked her head, letting one corner of her lips twist up. “Stallioning up now, Image? Here, this one’s fun.” Her wing gestured to an already obvious memory.
“—the throne.” The stallion, a pale gray figure with blue streaks in his charcoal mane and the archaic garb of a noble, stood before Luna with a gentle smile on his face.
Luna shook her head. “I can’t help you directly, Shady; you know the rules.”
“I’m not asking you to help me, Luna. I’m just making sure I’m not going to meet unexpected opposition for ending this war the fastest way possible.”
The princess winced, and her lips moved without speaking. “I agree with you, to a point. But convincing Celestia will be… harder.”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way.” The stallion stepped up to the larger pony, nuzzling her and then sliding his muzzle up to her ear. “I always admired your determination, you know? Your willpower.” Flat teeth nibbled on Luna’s ear, and the mare’s eyes widened. “You’ll manage. I know you will.” His tongue flicked down the side of Luna’s jaw.
“You always did have a silver tongue, Silver—” Luna moaned.
Mirror Image slapped a hoof onto the side of his brow, carefully missing his horn. “Really? A silver tongue? Come on!”
“I thought it was romantic,” Eldest muttered, mostly to herself.
Image responded with a roll of his eyes. “Let’s look at something else. I’m not watching the Princess get busy.” Turning away from the increasingly graphic memory, the stallion let his eyes drift to the sky. “I wonder why she lied to me, though.”
“Huh? What do you mean, Image?”
“The Princess said she’d never had a mortal lover.” At the sound of a surprised gasp, he continued. “She and Rainbow were having a moment and I teased her about it. She didn’t take it very—”
All words stopped as the gallery shook, and a massive black crack tore through the smooth blue that surrounded the world of Luna’s mind. All at once, the world turned cold, growing only worse with every passing moment as the slash in the sky grew larger.
“I didn’t do it!” Eldest shouted, raising both hooves defensively.
Image rolled his eyes. “I don’t care who did it! You’re the Night Guard, you know about souls and memories and… whatever this is. What do we do?”
“Umm…” Eldest Sister glanced around wildly, then wrapped a hoof around her companion’s shoulders. “Do you trust me, Mirror?”
“Yes…? Why do you—” Words turned into a strange combination of a gasp and a shriek as Eldest Sister flapped her wings once, using her unnatural strength to hurl both herself and the unicorn toward a random nearby memory.
The huge wooden doors traced with swirling, vine-like lines of gold were Cadance’s favorite. Something about the way the patterns danced made it clear the room was Celestia’s, but without all the overdrawn history and pomp that dominated the rest of the palace’s halls. When a younger and more curious Cadance had asked her ‘aunt’ about the swirling pattern, Celestia explained that she liked it because it looked nice. Nothing more.
Thunder Crack, clad in gilded armor, nodded as she approached. “The Princess is meeting with a delegate from Cervidaen.”
Cadance frowned, gesturing to the envelope she had tucked under her wing. “I can wait.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t go in,” Crack countered with a grin. “She’s expecting you.”
Cadance cocked her head. “What?”
Crack shrugged. “She said you’d be by and that I should warn you about what you’d be walking into, then let you in.” Stretching out one hoof to the doors, he gave her another nod. “Ready?” He didn’t offer much of a chance for much of a reply before pushing the wooden door open.
Celestia’s substantial room seemed crowded between the the single tall, slender-limbed caribou and the Princess herself. The pale blue glow around the tips of the creature’s enormous antlers faded, and he turned toward the new intruder with eyes wide; his body remained unmoving.
“Oh, Cadance?” Celestia, whose back was facing both the elk and the other pony, maintained a golden glow around her own horn, gently levitating a slender rapier by its glimmering, gem-studded basket hilt. “Rimbor and I were almost done.”
I said no such thing. The distinctly Prench accent on the gruff voice surprised Cadance as it called out in her mind. The caribou’s antlers were glowing again, and with each syllable, one the spurs on his considerable headgear flashed brighter. Our Lady Valdria sent me to take from you an account of your meddling in the affairs of the dead.
Celestia’s brow twitched, barely visible from Cadance’s place near the door and clearly not visible to the caribou. “I haven’t touched the Between in a thousand years.”
Our Lady warned me that you were a liar. She knows you dragged your sister’s successor back from the dead, and now you’ve sent dispatched that same successor and restored her yet again.
Celestia’s wings twitched. To the caribou, it might not have meant much, but Cadance almost gasped at the show of raw surprise. The elder princess twisted the blade in midair, letting her eye trace down its long, slender edge. “If you know that much, then why bother coming all this way and asking me?”
The caribou cocked his head. Because you’ve breached the Between more than three times recently. If you don’t intend to be honest, I shall convey that reality to Lady Valdria, but know that Hith Taurë will not be allowed to burn again. Surely you recall the promises you made when the long night ended. I will leave you to your kin, as her time is clearly more valuable to you.
Cadance held a tongue full of questions as Celestia slowly turned in place, still holding the sword in her grip. Her magic stretched out, and at the tip of the blade, two golden tickets appeared. “Before you go, these are my gift to Lady Valdria, and the guest of her choice. I would like to speak to her face to face, and I’m certain Luna would as well, in two weeks’ time.”
The caribou nodded, and his blue magic wrapped around the Gala tickets. Then, without a pop or fizzle or so much as a sound, he was simply gone.
Not three seconds later, Celestia’s firm knees bent gently, and her wings fell to sagging at her sides.
“Aunt!”
“I’m fine, Cadance. Just… my horn is tired. Can you take Aestas?”
Cadance’s blue magic wrapped around the hilt of the rapier, and to her surprise, her magical power grew stronger.
“What…”
Celestia waited until she was sure Cadance had let her words truly fall away to answer. “Aestas Melos, Cirran for ‘Summer Song’. Hurricane had Star Swirl make it for Gale when she kept stealing Procellarum.” The ancient alicorn’s sides shifted gently with laughter. “I was so angry with him when she wore it to a dance. It’s not much use as a sword; the steel is just a thin layer over a diamond core. It’s actually a staff. It just looks that way because Gale wanted to be like her father.” Celestia shook her head. Her eyes seemed too dry.
“Why bring it out with the elk?” Cadance asked.
“They like to have several conversations at one, telepathically,” Celestia explained. “Valdria is usually kind enough to stick to one, but her ambassadors assume I can speak on their level. I always have to speak one out loud to keep things moving, and even then, it’s… draining. I’m in no danger of running out of mana, but I always come out feeling tired. Aestas helps me keep my mind in order, and I suppose it helps me steel my mind. A very long time ago, when I was more of a warrior myself, there were times it served me well. But those days are long past. Thank you for coming. Always good to have a political excuse to cut things short instead of starting to stutter in one of the dialogues.”
Cadance smiled faintly. “How did you know I’d come?”
A confused expression briefly flashed over Celestia’s brow. “I send Record Time to get you. Isn’t that why you’re here?”
Rather than shaking her head, Cadance levitated the envelop under her wing toward her ancestor. “I must have passed him on the way here. I actually have something I needed your advice on. Take a look at this.”
As Celestia took hold of the letter and let her eyes trace over the letters, Cadance watched the elder alicorn’s mask of perfect calm and composure regenerate before her eyes. On another day, she might have asked how to mirror the practiced elegance, but more pressing matters seized her thoughts first. “I can’t make heads or tails of it, except the summary. It was… Shining was working on some sort of research.”
A brief nod answered the statement, at first. “I was concerned about Sombra. Sealing him away isn’t a permanent solution, nor do we condone that cruelty to any soul—even one like his. Luna most especially.” Cadance caught a moment of hesitation. “Or she would, if she remembered.”
“Remembered what?”
A sigh. “When Twilight and her friends freed Luna, she was distraught. Broken. She remembered everything she’d done, everypony she’d hurt, and it was a burden she simply couldn’t bear. Not all at once. I wanted to help her. I took her memories—with her consent—so that she could come to terms with the modern world. I had planned to return them to her slowly.”
“But what does Sombra have to do with Nightmare Moon?”
Celestia turned slowly to face her niece. “He was her Hurricane.”
“Aunt Luna was with—” Cadance caught herself halfway through her thought, slapping a hoof over her mouth.
A nod answered the outburst. “Baron Somber Shadow in life. He was the ruler of Stalliongrad, and incredibly ambitious. When King Tungsten died, there was nopony else in his family to take the throne of Everfree City—the old capital. Luna and I had always allowed the nobility to settle their disputes with dueling or gambling or whatever they wanted, so long as their subjects weren’t harmed. But with a vacant throne, politics and scheming turned into outright war.”
“The Succession War,” Cadance whispered. “I remember history class.”
Celestia smiled, but it was a weak motion, devoid of real happiness. “Luna wanted Sombra to win, of course, but at the time, we thought it was best if we didn’t interfere. Sombra was a brilliant leader and a powerful mage, so he thought he was invulnerable. One of the other nobles had him assassinated. I thought that was it, but Luna couldn’t let go.”
“Did she use the spell? The one you used on Rainbow?”
“No. Her own magic. She made him a thestral, like her night guard.”
Cadance stared forward, speechless.
“You didn’t know? Forgive me; I thought Shining might have told you. In any case, that is the truth. Luna’s soldiers are undead, and Sombra was one of them. Not a night guard, but a thestral. He couldn’t go back to Stalliongrad as a walking corpse, so he reinvented himself and gathered his strength in the Crystal Empire. He used their bodies as living batteries of magic; just as I’m sure you saw, they lost the magical sheen of their coats as his influence grew stronger. He won the war, and took the throne of Everfree, and became King Sombra. And then…”
“Okay, waking up face-down is getting old really fast.” Image pulled his head from the bank of snow and rubbed a hoof across his eyes to get some semblance of a clear view of his surroundings. Miles and miles of icy plains stretched off into the hazy horizon as what seemed to be a hearty blizzard fell from the skies—all directions save directly ahead, where a city of glimmering sapphire and jagged void crystal rose out of the snow. “Tartarus.”
“What’s wrong?” Eldest Sister crunched through the snow to stand at his side, and the cold only served to emphasize how strange her body felt for lack of the warmth of a living pony.
“I think I know what the princess is remembering. Do you know how to get us out of here?”
Eldest shook her head. “Mistress said to ‘find her,’ whatever that means. Why?”
“I think we’re about to meet King Sombra.” Image sucked down a frigid breath and took his first step toward the blackened surface of the Crystal Empire.
"Don't put one of your spears up your backside, Mirror. They’re memories, right? I doubt we’ll be able to change them, or anything like that. They probably won't even see us."
“Probably?” The uncomfortable question was blown away by the frigid wind, giving way to the crunching of snow. Eldest answered something back, but gave up the attempt to be heard when the storm grew fiercer around them. Their hooves dug into the snow for almost a mile until, with a single step, they found warm grass. Ahead, a perfect circle of summer had been carved out around the massive spire at the heart of the Crystal Empire by some magic Image couldn’t begin to understand. Taking another step, he let the rest of his body settle into the heat of a midsummer day, and smiled as the warmth permeated his limbs.
A freezing mare leapt onto his back, stealing away all the heat he’d won. Image shook himself, but Eldest’s grip was too tight, wrapping her forelegs comfortably but firmly around his neck and gripping his flanks with her hind pair. “Yes! Warmth!”
“Get off!” Image reared up, and when the motion failed to dismount his partner, he let himself fall onto his side. Finally, the thestral’s grip failed, and she was flung from her place.
“Aww. But you’re so warm, Mirror, and—”
“No.” Image continued toward the city. “Keep your eyes up. See what I see?”
Just as the stallion finished the thought, two shadows passed against the sun overhead—both larger than an average pony, but one far larger than the other.
“You think it’s them?” Eldest asked.
“Hard to remember something you never witnessed in the first place.” Image tilted his head toward the palace at the center of the city. “You said she wanted us to find her?” As Eldest was only halfway through a nod, her companion broke into a full gallop.
The streets of the Crystal Empire were filled with dimly-coated crystal ponies who stared up at the balcony on the side of the massive palace overhead. The throng barely acknowledged Image as he forced his way through. He only found pause when he felt Eldest’s forelegs once more wrap around his shoulders.
“I thought I told you—” He stopped himself abruptly when the winged mare pulled him up into the air with a series of heavy wingbeats.
“This way’s a lot faster than the stairs.” Image caught the hint of agitation in her voice as she carried him up to the shimmering balcony of diamonds and sapphires. His hooves landed with a click on the gemstones. Eldest moved to fly into the palace, but an extended leg from Image stopped her.
“What?” she asked, raising a brow. “We just want to find Mistress, right?”
“Listen to me closely.” Image’s normally lackadaisical expression had grown tight and serious. The fur on his brow had bunched up, and his lips were taught. His sapphire eyes met hers, and then darted away over the glimmering city below. “This is magic we don’t fully understand. I would expect us to be unable to alter her memories, but I don’t know what we’ll find in that throne room. You have magic I can’t replicate, and you know your way around this kind of magic better than I do. No matter what happens, your job is to find us a way out.”
Eldest shook her head. “It’s going to be fine, Image—”
“The last time you said that to me was five years ago, in June.” The simple words left Eldest Sister’s fanged maw hanging open. “If something goes wrong, and I die, I get Celestia’s Oath. You remember?”
A nod. “The Honor Guard go to the Summer Lands, no questions asked. No judgement for what you did to serve Equestria. But you don’t think something is going to happen…”
“Too much has already gone wrong on this mission,” the stallion answered, turning to walk into the palace. “And if Luna couldn’t react to your presence, why would she tell you to find her?”
The room was massive, though beyond its amethyst and its void-crystal pillars, Image barely paid it any mind. His focus was on the two princesses and the stallion reclining in the throne facing them. Celestia and Luna had not changed in appearance through the passage of a millenium, though their suits of heavy armor were unfamiliar, as was the glimmering rapier in the elder sister’s magical grip.
King Sombra likewise matched what little Mirror Image had seen before, though that fact was, in its own way, a surprise. Gray fur and a black mane were framed by a curved red horn and a mouthful of uncomfortably pale fangs.
“He’s a thestral…” Eldest Sister whispered, inches from Image’s ear. “I thought the fangs were just part of the big smoky thing.”
Clad in a brilliant red velvet cloak over heavy steel armor, the villainous monarch nonetheless seemed relaxed in his formidable throne, leaning sideways on the jagged gemstone hoofrests. “You’re certain you don’t care for a moment of small-talk, my love? I have an excellent vintage crystal berry wine.”
“My love?” Eldest wondered in another whisper.
Image nodded. “That explains his being a Night Guard.”
“A thestral,” the Night Guard leader corrected. “They’re not always the same thing.”
To the guardsponies’ shared horror, Sombra turned toward them. “I see you’ve brought more company too. A shattered horn, and one of your night guard?” His voice, deep, eloquent, and sickly-sweet, rolled over his prominent fangs like molasses. “Positively terrifying, Luna. I take it you’ve come for the Crystal Ponies?”
The memory of Celestia cut in with a nod toward the monarch, speaking with a level expression and a voice of pure steel. “This is the end, Sombra. Stop this spell you’ve weaved and let them go.”
Beneath his curved horn, the gray thestral smiled. His hoof tapped gently on the side of his throne. “Go where, Celestia? They’re my subjects, just as the rest of Equestria is. Don’t you see what they’ve let me accomplish? The war for the throne is over. My kingdom knows peace once again.”
“Yes!” Luna shouted. “That’s what you promised, Shady—”
“Sombra, Luna. Speak to me as an equal; I’m not your pet any longer.”
Luna winced, taking a step back as her ears pressed against her skull. “Very well, Sombra, if that is what you deign necessary. But your word was given nevertheless. The war has passed; release thy grip over the crystal ponies.”
Image leaned toward Eldest. “Go to Luna. You need to get us out. Now.”
The thestral nodded, and began slowly walking along the wall of the room. As she moved, the fierce debate of the immortals continued.
Sombra, either oblivious or disinterested in the whispered conversation, answered Luna with a slow shake of his head. “The war is over? For the moment, perhaps, but peace won’t last. I know our history. Dragons. Boars. Elk.” His red slitted eyes turned to Celestia, and his mouth widened into a grin. “Even changelings. Think of the lives that could have been saved with power like mine. The magic of a million ponies focused into a single will.”
Celestia broke her even expression with a glare and a frown. “So you would sacrifice their freedom for the luxury of safety?”
As Celestia’s words still hung fresh, Eldest Sister approached her creator. “Mistress, we need to—”
“Now is no time for thy distractions,” Luna cut her off without so much as a glance. Her focus remained on Sombra.
“Thank you, Luna. As for you Celestia, I was wondering when I would confront your hypocrisy.” Sombra brought his forehooves together and smiled wider still. “You’ve already done what I propose. What else are the Summer Lands, but an exchange of freedom for security? You know Equestria needs an immortal guardian; somepony to hold back the monsters and the spirits. You took on the burden against Discord—surprised I know that name, Celestia? Your sister has been most forthcoming.”
“Mistress, please listen—”
“Enough.” Luna did not shout, but the word nevertheless echoed into total silence in the gaping chamber of smooth edged crystal. “Whoever thou art, interrupt us no more.” The younger princess’ command took effect immediately and visibly; as if moved on puppet strings, Eldest Sister stepped back from Luna and sat down against the wall of the chamber, still and silent. Satisfied, Luna directed her attention to Sombra. “As for you, King Sombra: I command you to release them.”
The simple command seemed to change Sombra’s entire stance. All at once, his lips closed over his smile, and with an empty expression, he rose from his throne. Armored forehooves clicked against gemstones as the stallion walked down off his dais and onto the velvet carpet. Red slitted eyes locked on Luna, and she offered a solemn nod. The whites of Sombra’s eyes were swept with glowing green, and a shadowy magic leaked from their sides. Those same shadows built around his horn.
A bolt of black lightning tore into Luna’s chest. The blast of pure magic hurled the younger sister back through the throne room, where her smoking, burnt fur slid across the polished gemstone floor.
The room erupted into chaos in that instant. Eldest Sister screamed and buried her head beneath her hooves and wings. Celestia rushed to her sister’s side, throwing up a glimmering golden shield between herself and Sombra. Mirror Image walked out into the center of the room, releasing one of his spring-loaded spears from the side of his armor and holding it tightly against his side. And in the center of it all, Sombra himself snarled at Luna.
“I was hoping you would be the one to see reason, Luna, but instead you betray me!” Despite not needing to breathe, the undead stallion panted with the force of his own words. “And in the midst of it all, you prove me right. In trying to set the crystals free, you tried to take my free will? Make me no better than your sobbing thestral in the corner?” His gaze briefly shot to Eldest Sister, before returning to the two sisters at the far side of the room. “You’ve both proven you aren’t willing to do what’s necessary to protect Equestria, any more than you were willing to rule it when it turned against itself. You’re afraid of power.” His horn charged with magic. “So now you have a choice. Stand aside, and let me rule and protect Equestria, or stand against me and be destroyed.”
Celestia glared back at the thestral from behind her shield, though her magic remained focused on her sister’s wounds. “Don’t pretend this is for anything more than your own ambition, Sombra. Power has corrupted you.”
“The victor will decide that,” Sombra answered, letting his horn build with shadowy alicorn magic.
A bolt of focused blue mana slammed into Sombra’s side, leaving the tyrant staggering for a moment. His slitted eyes gathered their focus just in time to disappear in a cloud of smoke, as Mirror Image’s spear sought his heart.
“Brave. Or foolish.” The observation came from behind Image, and he hurled himself into a roll just in time to avoid a blast of pure force that cracked the amethyst floor and sent tiny slivers of gemstone slicing through his coat.
“Definitely foolish,” Image muttered, more to himself than the ancient tyrant. Speaking up more formally, he added, “It was my lot to be cast among fools, so I had to learn it.”
Sombra snorted. “A sycophant. I should have expected that much.” More lightning flew from his horn, due for Image’s chest. The guardstallion answered with a flash of a blue shield. Though it held back the electricity, the ward wavered as Image winced in pain. “And there lies the limit of your tolerance for pain. A pity; two spells is your best? I thought Celestia would have brought one of her better mages, at least.” Another ball of shadowy magic gathered on Sombra’s horn.
“Soldier, I don’t know who you are, but I’m glad to have you standing beside me.” Celestia’s unusually harsh voice sent a chill down Image’s spine as she rose from beside Luna, clutching her rapier.
Though the words hurt to force out, Image spoke up as he shook his head. “I’m standing alone, Princess. If you want to help me, use whatever magic you can to heal Princess Luna and then have her talk to Eldest Sister.”
Without waiting for an answer, Image broke into a three-legged gallop toward Sombra. This time, when the lightning formed on the thestral’s horn, the living stallion lowered the point of his spear into the cracked floor and thrust it upright with his weight. He’d barely released the weapon when the bolt of lightning broke through the air. The gilded handle of his spear flashed as raw electricity was channeled into the floor of the palace through the makeshift lightning rod.
Sombra’s eyes widened. In the moment of surprise he had won, Image charged. A tap sent the spear on the other side of his armor popping into the grip of his foreleg, and with a leap, he thrust for the tyrant’s throat.
A pulse of red magic hurled him backwards, lacking the strength to really wound, but with the power needed to put him off balance. “You’re clever, soldier; I’ll give you that. You speak like a Blue Army mercenary, you dress like a Royal Guard of Canterlot, you wear a broken horn the way no soldier has in six millenia, and you fight like no soldier I’ve ever seen.” Sombra’s horn glowed again, and the crystal’s at Image’s hooves cracked. Leaping sideways and rolling, he avoided a spike of glistening black void crystal aimed to impale him through the ribs. “Perhaps you’ll even live long enough to satisfy my curiosity. Who are you?”
Image rose to his hooves with feigned calm, sucked in a deep breath with a single flare of his nostrils, and nodded. “You’re mistaken in calling me a soldier at all, your majesty.” Taking another breath, the stallion pushed just a hint of false confidence onto his face, letting one corner of his mouth rise in a smirk. “My name is Mirror Image, son of Lord Spitting Image of Glasgallop.” He let himself slip into his less-polished native tongue with the last few words, before once more donning a polished received pronunciation.
“I’m not with the Blue Army; I was born in Trottingham, but I don’t have much loyalty to the place.” He paced slowly before Sombra’s throne. “I’m not a Royal Guard; I wear their armor because gold is practical to protect against magic, nothing more. I’m not a ‘broken-horn’, or whatever ancient practice you’re referring to; my horn is broken because when I was a foal, I picked a fight with somepony far, far outside my skill, not unlike the one I’m fighting now.” With his free hoof, the stallion tapped the base of his horn.
Sombra seemed amused by the speech, so Image continued with still greater feigned pride.
“I’m not a soldier, your majesty, because my occupation is not to fight wars. What I am is an Honor Guard. A force I doubt you’ve heard of.” Given that the force would not be founded for another several dozen years of history at the least, Image was confident in his claim. “There are never more than ten of us, King Sombra, and none of us are soldiers. Many were, in the past, but not all. We don’t fight wars. We are guardsponies. Our work is to protect the one thing in Equestria that hasn’t changed since our nation was founded.”
“And what is that?”
“You’re a clever pony,” Image answered. “Why don’t you tell me?”
In that single question, Sombra’s amusement disappeared. “Very well, Mirror Image. I have better ways of gathering my answers.”
Darkness billowed from Sombra’s red eyes, sweeping not just back in flames, but spreading across the walls of the room. In desperation, Image twisted his spear back, and flung it like a javelin at the unmistakable slitted eyes of Equestria’s last tyrant. The collapsible steel weapon swept through what should have been Sombra’s skull, but instead found only shadows. More shadows leaked from Sombra’s eyes, and Image swallowed hard. The room vanished, and only the dark remained.
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Wow... I'm wondering how dangerous a thousand-year-old memory can actually be, but I have the uncomfortable suspicion that the answer is "very".
Yay more Eldest Sister.
Only wish they'd stayed longer in memory lane.
Luna and Sombra, eh? Bad taste in ponies, Princess.
Valdria may be coming to visit for the Gala? Hope we get to see that.
Aestas Melos is a neat idea, and it's origin is a pretty fun story.
Man, yet again it just feels like Luna causes all of the problems. Sombra? Dead/undead lover.
Nice work by Mirror Image in holding him off, though, however briefly.
What is with you and burning ponies LL? Solo, Shining, and now Mirror.
These developments with Sombra are interesting. I wonder how or if Eldest's and Mirror's presence in Luna's memories scene are going to affect things. I'm hoping for a quick new chapter because that's a mean cliffhanger.
Actually I've been wondering about something else as well, considering how it's so apparent in this chapter...What's Mirror's big issue with Eldest? Is he repulsed by her appearance, or attitude? Is he disgusted by her decision to become a Night Guard? Is he just feeling very guilty for how she ended up, presumably because she came back for him?
I'm a bit confused by the very cold shoulder, especially since they seemed to get along very well back when she was Loose Cannon. Wouldn't he be somewhat glad to have his friend back in some capacity? And if it's his guilt, then that's quite unfair to be taking that out on her.
I absolutely devoured this chapter. Lol 6K words is like a snack compared to the old chapters, but whatever is most productive for you is awesome. Can't wait for more!
Greeze Memory Sombra is almost as dangerous as the real thing isn't he? Best why I beat him, break his mind by telling him the truth. Even if he wins it won't change anything, he's basically a very powerful bad dream and can't exist any where else, and should Luna die he goes with her. Course he likely can still kill Mirror Image and Eldest Sister.
How's the next chapter coming along?
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Expect it not too long after Everfree NW (the con is in eight days as of this post). I'm on two panels, so that's where my time is going.
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Awesome. And best of luck with your presentations!
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Greetings! Dusk Watch here, (newly christened) Managing Editor for the PoL.
I just stumbled across you comment:
Fun fact: It actually has one. You just can't read it because it's private and filled with spoilers. How else do you think we manage to keep all this stuff straight?