Hotaru, Hotaru

by Vanilla Hex

First published

After Twilight's tragic demise, Queen Chrysalis sees the perfect oppurtunity to attack. But, without the Element of Magic, who will stop the Changelings from invading?

After Twilight Sparkle tragically dies due to unknown circumstances, the Mane Six and the Princesses desperately try to function without their Element of Magic--and their friend. But while they're trying to recover, Queen Chrysalis sees the perfect opportunity to strike Equestria. Fighting grief, Changelings, and insanity, the ponies discover what truly makes a friend...and who they can really trust.

Prologue I

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PROLOGUE

Part One

Luna & Celestia

"Even this doesn't seem the same," thought Celestia as she sauntered through the castle halls. The way to her beloved sisters' room was pure instinct now, and she had often joked about how she could perhaps walk there blindfolded one day.

She was putting that theory on trial today, and although there was no blindfold involved, she was still neglecting her sight by keeping her head down. Celestia only raised it to offer a half hearted smile to a concerned guard, then her sight was set to the carpet again.

Everything seemed to be underwater and languid since--it happened. She cursed how cruel life was--how things whistle and whirl and blur together when everything you take for granted evaporates in a morbid instant. Indeed, life goes on, but so does the pain, and with each waking moment Celestia felt it intensify. And that feeling--that emotion--was there again, a soft pulse of rage that simmered into a dull, aching heartcry; and she gasped in tangent with this sensation and swallowed the lump, her misery, down. "If only I had paid more attention, if only--"

Suddenly, discomfort rocked her brow as her horn collided with Lunas' bedroom door. She raised her eyes, acknowledging the impact with a numb stare; and then, grunting, she allowed herself inside.

Witnessing Luna in the nurturing, kind arms of sleep made Celestia tremble with envy. The navy alicorn was relaxed--her cosmic mane swept beneath her in a vaporous, unkempt heap. "Wake up," Celestia commanded with a listless flair, which spurred no reaction from the snoozing Princess.

Ever since Luna had reverted back to her true self and resumed her former duties, she had adopted a nocturnal cycle of sleep. This cycle was seldom disturbed, mainly because Luna was a heavy sleeper.

Celestia stood before her siblings' bed, becoming transfixed with a particular cross-stitched constellation on Lunas' bedsheets as her mind wandered. "She slept through the Changeling attack, how am I going to wake her up?" She contemplated everything from prodding her to kicking her with a forehoof (that idea was scrapped as soon as it arose), before she finally settled on the obvious (and least painful) answer--magic.

With a contempt snort, she conjured forth a periwinkle aura that drifted idly from her horn. It swirled around Luna's limp body and wafted into her unguarded ears.

It was a gentle 'wake-up' spell she had last used when they were fillies. Nostalgia blanketed her in a brief state of tranquility until Luna was roused. Her groggy moans brought Celestia back to the matter at hoof. It infuriated her that the world couldn't be as innocent as it seemed through the eyes of a filly. "Sister, sister, I need you to raise the moon early."

The navy alicorn, her mind still foggy from sleep, flopped a hoof over her eyes with an unceremonious groan. "Whyyy? Can't it wait?" Luna felt the fuzzy veil of drowsiness numb her senses as slumber threatened to claim her again.

"Not today, lazy bones," hissed Celestia acidly. "Get up!" Luna sat upright as soon as she heard the unbridled scorn in her voice; her eyes glazed over with a frightened, watery film as she stared at her broken sister. Celestia's ears almost flattened in guilt, and Luna noticed them twitch, but the Sun Princess managed to keep them upright. The smallest action that revealed that she was still alive, and not a creature that acted solely on blind rage and distress, relieved Luna. She offered a small smile to Celestia, and Celestia gave an almost maternal gaze in return. It was bittersweet; Celestia wished that this moment would last for an eternity. She wanted to dive in her siblings' comforting gaze. Her teal eyes offered the comfort she so desperately needed.

"It's tonight, isn't it?" whispered Luna, shattering the heartfelt silence between them.

"Yes," responded Celestia flatly.

"You know, I'm here for you, right?"

"I know."

"But why must I raise the moon early? Wouldn't it be more appropriate to hold the ceremony--"

"CEREMONY?! It's NOT a celebration! Celestia snarled suddenly, her eyes ablaze with an unanticipated fury. Her nostrils flared. Lunas' eyes widened as Celestia reared her hoof back--was she...was she going to hit her? Luna cringed, shielding herself with a feeble, shaky arm and cowering into her mattress.

There was no impact. Luna cracked open one eye, unable to subside the shivers that overtook her body. Luna had never witnessed Celestia become so cross. In fact, she couldn't recall ever seeing Celestia's anger bypass a stern glare. Even when she banished Luna to the moon, all she had bore was a strong vibe of disappointment.

Celestia bit her cheek and swallowed the lump down once again. Celestia curbed the desire to fall into Lunas' arms and sob until all tears were drained from her body, to scream at the sky until her throat was raw and her larynx withered away, to curse both of their names as if they were Gods. "But I must stay strong, always. No matter how upset I am, I...I can't hurt anyone else. I have to stay strong, not only for the kingdom, but for Luna. She's all I ha-"

"I shall take my leave," Luna nodded, rising to her hooves. Celestia stared at the floor in shame, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Luna would embrace her. But she had already driven Luna away. The clacks of Lunas' footsteps faded as she drew closer to the door. Then, as if by a miracle, they paused. Celestia's head shot up from its sorrowful position, an apology prepared on her tongue. It didn't come to fruition.

Luna was standing stagnant, her halituous mane the only thing moving on her rigid body. She cocked her head over her shoulder. Her eyes were stony, yet sympathetic. She swiped her tongue over her chapped lips before whispering, "Are...are you going to be okay, Celestia?"

Celestia could give no answer.

In the nocturnal and ceaseless depths of sky, Princess Luna rose the moon of which she reigned. She cradled it in mottled wisps of stratus clouds, and then remained still, watching the kingdom of Equestria below with a blank expression.

And, where nopony below could hear her, Luna wept and screamed to a deity that she no longer believed in.

Prologue II--Laughter

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PROLOGUE

Part Two

Laughter

Pinkie Pie sat alone.

(Well, I'm not entirely alone.)

Her company was her own reflection. It was a grim presence that mocked her with cruel indifference. She sighed as she saw what she had become; the jovial party pony now wore distasteful bags beneath her spiritless cobalt eyes. Her mane was beyond frazzled--it had lost its buoyancy since it happened--and laid limp and straight upon her bowed head. "You knew," she mumbled with an incredulous flair. A lock of her mane fell over her eyes. She whipped her head sharply to uncover them.

Then, after that mild interruption, it was back to staring at herself.

She was broken. She was empty.

And she had known.

"You KNEW!!" Pinkie shrieked without notice, bashing her head into the glass. A cobweb of shards remained where Pinkies' head had vacated; the impact wasn't hard enough for them all to fall, although a few diminutive bits littered the floor at her hooves. Her breathing was jagged and heavy as she gazed at her now warped reflection. It gave the illusion that she had five pairs of despondent eyes.

She heard the shrill sound of laughter.

She numbly acknowledged that it was herself. It was a thunderous caterwaul of a laugh, the din reverberating off the walls.

"You--hahaha!!--you knew! I always knew you--always knew that I was stupid!" She shot up again, and didn't even brace herself for the next blow. Larger shards tumbled this time, leaving a blank space where a section of mirror used to be just moments before. Some had cut her face and forehooves as they descended, and she gave an anguished cry at the pain. (But you deserve it!) A wail erupted from her esophagus.

She now saw half her face, jaded from the fractured glass, gaze back at her. Blood mixed with tears, causing sanguine orange droplets to slither down her face and plummet onto the floor beneath her.

"Your knee was all pinchy, your body was shuddering and a twitch-a twitchin'! You knew a doozy was coming, so why didn't you stop it?! Why, why, why, WHY?! You could have saved her!"

The reflection, as fragmented as it was, revealed that Madame LeFlour was sitting behind her. Her burlap arms were flaccid, and although she had no eyes, Pinkie could tell she was staring. Judging, probably.

"What do you want?" sneered Pinkie, whirling around. She twitched, her mouth twisting into a barely possible angle before settling into a deep, unsettling grimace.

"I knew they were bad friends, but it is morally wrong to let a friend perish! You knew that something was wrong and you could have warned her! You could have saved her! You let her die!" Pinkie's accent became thick as she became the sacks' puppeteer, moving its 'arms' to accentuate its rant.

"But I didn't--"

"YOU KNEW! YOU KNEW! YOU KNEW! YOU--"

"SHUT UP!" Pinkie torpedoed into Madame LeFlour, landing one hard blow into her side. With blind rage, she slung the sack across the room and dived. Pinkie pinned her in place, sitting on her hackles atop her, and struck over and over again. In the heat of the fight, she bit the side of Madame LeFlour and tugged...

And watched as her friends' white, fluffy innards spilled out all over the hardwood floor.

Pinkie heaved in the aftermath, her pupils shriveling into paranoid pinpricks. "Oh no," she gasped, trying desperately to prod the flour back into its host. But it was far too late. Madame LeFlour was gone.

The flour stuck to her hooves, her blood acting as a macabre paste. She sobbed in the soft entrails of her fallen friend for what felt like hours before the room dimmed. She snapped back to reality at the sudden contrast in light.

Outside her window, framed by her billowing curtains--(oh Celestia the window was open oh no oh no they heard)--the moon had risen. Night had fallen.

There was time to grieve later. For now, it was time to wash up.

She had somewhere to be, however much she hurt. And the throbbing pain in her head could not compare to the pulsating guilt in her heart.