Lyra Heartstrings and the Hand of Man
Edited by Infalle <sosweetntasty.deviantart.com>
As the last of their days drew to a close, the final vestiges of man gathered together. Their people united, they journeyed through the Crystal Heart of the Abyss, past the Sea of Fire, and down to the foot of the Gate. Beyond this gate, they built one final city, to hold their people to the end of their labors.
It was here that they cast the sun and the moon from the heavens, cleansed the land of their secrets, and put to rights the last of their wrongs.
All but one.
The Last Eclipse, the final folly of man, and doom of the world. Try as they might, they could not unmake what they themselves had wrought, and as their time on this earth drew to a close, they made the only choice they could.
They sealed away Eclipse within their city, and abandoned it to the cold and the dark, confident their prison would hold until they might return from their journey, ready to absolve the world.
****
Cave duty sucks, Last Line reflected to himself. ‘Join the guard! See Equestria!’ they said. He glanced at the crystal caves around him, and wished for the hundredth time that the changeling queen had found a nicer Celestia-forsaken hole to keep the Captain’s bride. ‘Go to Tartarus,’ is what I should have said.
He shifted uncomfortably in his armor, toying with the idea of going on patrol, or to the bathroom, or anywhere, when he noticed somepony approaching. She was a cute, mint green mare, the kind he’d have liked to hit on, if he wasn’t more interested in keeping a spotless record and maybe getting the buck out of here.
“I’m sorry ma’am, no ponies past this point without authorization.”
“Oh, of course, how silly of me.”
Lyra’s horn flared with an aqua glow, and a small scroll of paper emerged from her saddlebag. Though the edges were crinkled, the golden C and crimson ribbon could only belong to one pony. Looking Lyra over once, the royal guard pulled open the parchment.
“Hey, this is bl—”
WHAM!
The impact reverberated through the crystal caverns beneath Canterlot, the guard’s helm ringing like a gong. The rock that had struck it clattered off the crystals like a million chimes. Staggering, he shook his head and growled. He caught the next rock with his face.
“Umph!”
To Lyra’s immense relief, the second blow sent him staggering clean off the pit edge, his front hooves wind-milling for an instant before he disappeared from view. Moments later, a heavy clatter told her he’d found a nearby floor to hit, and a faint groan confirmed his survival.
Whew, didn’t want to hurt him... She winced as another groan drifted up. ...too badly...
“LYRA!”
She wheeled around, eyes wide.
“Horseapples!” Twilight Sparkle.
Lyra made a beeline for the nearby mine cart, her horn flashing as she knocked over the safety barrier that tried to bar ponies from the danger ahead.
“LYRA THIS IS INSANE!”
Again Twilight Sparkle’s voice echoed off the glittering walls, bouncing back and forth as it became a chorus of condemnation. Lyra moved faster, and her hooves scrabbled frantically against the old rotting rail ties. She threw her weight against the cart, and its wheels let out a deafening squeal.
“I have to do this, Twilight! The answers are down here!” She knew it was futile to try and convince the close minded purple pony, but she had to try.
“There’s nothing down here! That’s the point! It’s a trap!”
Lyra simply shook her head, and forced another scream from the rusted wheels. The tortured sound became a rhythmic squeak as her cart picked up speed. Twilight would never understand, not even if she showed her. The little bookworm would just brush it off as another hoax, just like she had every other piece of evidence...no. It was time to end the debate once and for all.
She could hear the clatter of hooves now, but it was tough to say how many. In the twisting caverns, the sounds doubled back on each other over and over until it was hard to say if Twilight was coming alone, or with the entire Canterlot garrison. Not that it mattered, as either would bring a swift end to Lyra’s scheme.
The clack of hooves grew louder and louder, filling the air as Lyra frantically pushed at the stubborn old machine, forcing it further and further down the track. Ahead, the tracks spiraled down into an open pit, promising a quick getaway courtesy of gravity. If only she could make it in time.
Just as a million reflections of purple filled the cavern, she reached the crest and leapt into the cart with a triumphant cheer.
“Not today Twilight! Too—” the cart screeched painfully, managing a rapid slog down the rails, and ground once more to a halt not ten feet distant, “—slow.”
“Lyra...” Even panting, Twilight managed that scathing tone unique to disappointed schoolteachers, and in this case, vexed librarians. “Did it even occur to you that those wheels haven’t been oiled this century?” Even given the circumstances, Lyra found an embarrassed flush blooming on her cheeks.
“Well— I— That is—” The beams groaned beneath her.
Twilight, however, was in full on lecture mode.
“You are SOOO lucky I didn’t write to princess Celestia about this. I think I still might! What in Equestria possessed you to—”
“Twilight!” Lyra interrupted, her expression far more nervous than a scolding warranted. “When was the last time they changed the nails in these?”
Before the purple pony could reply, a horrendous cracking rang out. Dust rose, wood splintered, and in a cascade of steel and timber, Lyra Heartstrings plunged into the abyss.
****
And what’s this supposed to be?
It’s a hand of course! Just look at it!
Lyra...
****
Everything hurt. Far more than Lyra ever imagined it could. She’d never been an athletic pony, not even by unicorn standards, but she’d assumed she’d had some familiarity with pain. Clearly, they hadn’t even met.
Slowly, she managed to stagger to her hooves, the act nearly bringing tears to her eyes. Strained tendons pulled at muscles nearly torn asunder, and beneath them all, bruised bones threatened to crack under any further duress. It felt like lifting her head was more likely to tear it off than actually achieve anything. Still, everything worked, so there was that.
Around her, wood and rails lay piled like a crushed skeleton, the odd beam or length jutting forth from the unruly cacophony of garbage. Even the cart in which she’d sat was a splintered wreck, its iron rim and wooden panels bent inward where a length of rail crushed it in two.
“Miss Heartstrings!”
The sound of wing beats echoed down from above, along with the voice. Official and male, it could only be a member of the castle’s pegasus guard. Sure enough, high up, about a dozen lamps flickered like stars, their holders only barely visible. Doubtless they were checking the higher slopes first, the chances of Lyra surviving a fall to the bottom being...minimal at best.
Lyra smiled, the expression growing into a grin. She’d done it! Against all the odds, she was still alive and even one step ahead! Celestia be praised!
It was nearly impossible to see in the pitch dark, but as the pegasi drew closer, so did the reflected light of their lanterns. As they did, one shadow failed to recede, but rather sank down into the mouth of a cave. An avenue of escape!
With one last look at her would-be rescuers and captors, she took off at a gallop. This instantly became a pained limp. Still, it carried her into the darkness quickly enough, whereupon she turned back and risked a small bit of magic. Her horn glowing gently, though too bright for her taste, she slowly, carefully built an illusionary wall of crystal, just like those that lined the pit. Any unicorn would spot it in an instant, but to the pegasi it would look perfectly normal. Hopefully, this would buy her enough time.
Her tracks covered, she limped her way down into the endless dark, pulling a small square of paper from her saddlebags as she did. Down here, the light of her horn was enough to read the hastily scribbled charcoal, though it did little to help with the illustration’s own shortcomings. It crossed her mind that her cutie mark could have easily been an easel or a drafting compass. But no, it was a lyre, a bloody golden lyre. She’d never even played one before! That was how little demand there was!
Sighing to herself, she pulled open the square of parchment, and inspected the lines that lay across it. Against all odds, she was still on track, the collapsing rail bridge having taken her exactly where she’d wanted to go: ‘The Heart of the Abyss’
At least, that’s what she took the pit to be. There was always a chance that the title referred to a bigger pit, and she was just running about in the geological equivalent of a pothole, but, there had been a path from its heart, just as promised, so there was no reason to despair.
Not yet, anyway.
The fact that the next section was referred to as ‘The Sea of Fire’ promised plenty of time for that later. Why did ancient legends always have to be so...adventurous?
There was nothing for it but to soldier on. She’d be proven right in the end. She had to be. It’d be a poor way to rack up a dozen offences against the crown otherwise. Or was it crowns now? She’d never really asked, and after Nightmare Night it seemed a little awkward to do so...
As the darkness swam around her, she lost herself to speculation and daydream.
****
The bouquet fell faster than she could. Fortunately, that was faster than her competition as well.
“Mine! Mine! Mine!” The chorus sang, the three battering each other, trading blows mid gallop.
“Mi—” Lyra stopped, and her two companions raced ahead, her own ensorcellment broken by the shock of what she beheld.
Down here, in the crystal caves, she’d found her answer.
****
“No way...” Lyra couldn’t hear herself speak, much less think. Even if she’d shouted, it was unlikely that anypony would have heard her over the din.
Before her, there was light. That was the only way to describe it, light...and heat. There was so much heat. She had been promised a sea of fire, but this...was so far beyond everything she’d imagined.
Everything she’d ever imagined.
It was as though a solid wall of light burned up from the ground, blazing still and unwavering into the depthless cavern above. In the midst of it, a lone bridge parted its path, the burning radiance battering the narrow channel until its edges glowed white hot.
Slowly, she approached, the heat quickly bordering on unbearable. It was as though she were attempting to retrieve cookies from a walk in oven, and judging by this experience, such a thing should never exist. Regardless, she was beckoned onward.
At least until she got even closer. Then the heat actually did become unbearable. She backed off with a frustrated hmph, looking left, then right, in hopes of a somewhat wider, cooler path. And then the hoofsteps started once more.
Oh, no, not again.
Sure enough, within moments, a familiar purple pony dashed into view.
“Lyra! This ends...” She stopped dead and gaped at the sight before her. “What in Celestia’s name...”
It was the chance Lyra needed. Throwing caution and comfort to the wind, she threw herself at the small, fire edged path, just barely catching an exclamation from Twilight before the roaring cascade swallowed all sound.
It was horrible: like being roasted alive. Then it occurred to Lyra that there was no *like* about it. She was, quite literally, being roasted alive. A realization that was sure to ruin all grilling and baking for her, should she live long enough for that to become a problem.
It felt like she ran for an eternity, the choking scent of her own burning mane fouling the already searing air she was forced to breathe. Light stabbed at her eyes every time she opened them to make sure of the path, and heat threatened to boil them whenever they were closed. Still the path ran on and on and on, her only consolation that the searing walls helped guide her, their torturous heat warning her from a sharp curve even when her eyes did not.
And then, as abruptly as it began, it was over. In fact, it was like being plunged in an icy lake, so startling she froze mid stride, abruptly flipping into a sloppy cartwheel that left her sprawled on the floor. Bruising aside, she felt...remarkably good, as though the ordeal had never happened. And then it hit her: an illusion. It had all been a trick.
She laughed, one hoof reaching up to sweep her mane back into place. To think, she’d been...so...worried...
Her hoof was black with soot. Reaching back up, she felt again, and sure enough, her once-styled mane now ended in nothing but char and ash. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t an illusion. As fine as she might be now, she had been in just as much danger as she’d thought.
The thought very quickly threatened to eject the dandelion sandwich she’d had for lunch. Turning her back on the roaring sea, she quickly turned and bolted from the place.
Ahead, there was only darkness, and beyond that...
****
Lyra, this is getting absurd.
No, Twilight, you’re getting absurd! Every time I bring you more evidence, you just brush it off!
Because there are simpler explanations! Just because something doesn’t make sense right now, doesn’t mean you have to invent some mythical being to explain it.
But the legends! What about the Last Eclipse?
Now you’re just being silly. Eclipses only happen when Celestia and Luna will it, and even then there’s not much special about them: hardly anything to warrant the end of the world.
And what if there is?
Do you really think Celestia would hide something like that from us?
What about Nightmare Moon?
...Get out.
****
The Gate.
It was a flat surface, sheer steel, bisecting the crystals around it. It was as though the door had simply appeared in place, erasing anything unlucky enough to occupy its desired spot. There were no seams, no chipping, and no signs of craftsmareship. The tunnel ended, and the door began. Only one mark existed, a lone hole with a recessed bar bridging its diameter.
Lyra...was atwitter. There was no other word for it. The monuments, the cave paintings, the oral myths, they all agreed on this one point:
...and beyond this gate, they built one final city, to hold their people to the end of their labors...
With a flare of her horn, she pulled open her saddlebags, pulling forth the last item she’d brought. It was the source of all her misery, and soon, her vindication: a small, stone cylinder, maybe two hoofs in diameter. On its surface, ten studs emerged, embedded in grooves such that they could be slid back and forth and on occasion up and down. She quickly began to manipulate them, twisting and turning them frantically, cursing when her excitement got the better of her and she fumbled a move, forcing her to start again.
Then the lid popped open, and her prize emerged. It was a stone five-fingered hand, machined to be worn over a hoof like a glove and enchanted to move at the wielder’s will. Twilight had...dismissed it.
None of my dating spells return a valid result. It’s clearly some silly forgery. Besides, if the box is that easy to solve, why didn’t someone steal it?
But it hadn’t been easy to solve. Only through her intimate knowledge of lore had Lyra herself been able to puzzle out the answer. To anypony else, it would have been impossible. And the dating spells, hah! They were evidence in her favor, though Twilight failed to see it.
And at their height, their works were ageless and unending as the void.
So of course a dating spell wouldn’t work. Not that Twilight would ever believe it.
But she’d have to now! Lyra thought, affixing the glove to her hoof, and hopping towards the gate. Once she manipulated this bar, which was impossible to use with hooves (more evidence), she’d finally be rewarded for her diligence. She’d show them. She’d show them ALL.
Wrapping her stone fingers around the mechanism, she twisted.
“LYRA!”
With a loud snap, Twilight sparkle appeared in the midst of the tunnel, staggering for a moment from her doubtless monumental teleport, but righting herself within a second.
“I HAVE HAD ENOUGH!”
“No! I’m too close!” Her horn flashing, Lyra hurled the empty puzzle box at Twilight, the other unicorn blasting it apart in a blaze of magic.
“Did you r—” Twilight never finished her thought. Through the blinding blaze of magic and stone shards, Lyra bounded, stone hand clenched into a fist. The rest seemed to proceed in slow motion: the graceful arc of her hoof bearing down on Twilight’s face; the startled unicorn’s expression, slowly changing from smug to surprised; and the gradually brightening glow of her horn, preparing one last spell.
And then it happened, fist met face and spell met Lyra. The two hurtled apart in an explosion of debris, with Twilight and the glove tumbling one way, and a smoking Lyra the other. Soon enough, both came to a stop.
“Nooooo.” Lyra moaned, lying there on the cold stone. She could feel it, a standard paralysis spell, the kind she’d never bothered to master. Of course Twilight would hit her; she was the element of magic: of course she’d ruin everything. Lyra couldn't understand: why did she get so close to the truth, only to be thwarted? “Why?” Slowly, a bedraggled Twilight trod into view, the stone glove levitated by her magic.
“Because you lost it, Lyra. This...obsession with conspiracies, and humans...what has it done? You’ve stolen from me, from the royal museum of Canterlot, impersonated an agent of Celestia, destroyed the better part of Canterlot’s cave system, and possibly tampered with ancient artifacts of...who knows what!” She huffed and rubbed her forehead with a hoof. “I would have come down here with you, if you’d just asked. If you’d just been civil! Instead, half the Canterlot garrison is out looking for you, and you’ve destroyed a priceless artifact!” Lyra managed a smirk.
“I thought you said it was a hoax.”
Twilight glared, and then stared at the stone glove with disdain, and perhaps a bit of curiosity.
“I did. Maybe...I was wrong. But that hardly excuses your behavior.” She nodded in that curt, authoritative way exclusive to academics and scientists. “If it were up to me...well I don’t know. But it’s not, it’s up to Princess Celestia.”
“Indeed it is, my faithful student.” There was a blaze of light, and the princess herself appeared. “Thank you for bringing that wall of fire to my attention. To think we’ve lived atop such an oddity, and never knew. As for Lyra here...” Her face darkened, her look hovering between disappointment and legitimate anger. “You have far and away crossed the line, my little pony. Normally, I prefer my lessons to be...playful. But your transgressions...” She blinked. Slowly, the sun princess frowned, and turned to the massive steel gate, the last obstacle to Lyra’s success.
“Do you hear that?”
Twilight and Lyra looked at each other, and then back at Celestia, who was slowly approaching the monolithic edifice.
“Uhhhh...”
“It sounds like...” She slowly trotted up, and delicately placed her ear to the steel. “...I should know it...”
The world exploded.
****
What’s a human?
You’ve never heard of them? They’re these mythological hairless, five fingered creatures. They’re really popular in conspiracy circles and a bunch of ponies think that all these weird cave paintings and natural formations come from humans. Some even say that they made unicorns and pegasi from normal ponies.
That sounds kind of silly.
That’s what I thought too, but then I read a book on it and it all actually made a lot of sense. I actually still have it, if you’d like to take a look, miss...?
Lyra. Call me Lyra.
****
The cave was...gone. It was literally gone.
In its place was a massive crater, lit by a lone light at the top. It took Lyra a moment to realize that the lone point of light was actually the sky. In the walls beside her, the Gate lay fractured and embedded, a dozen chunks of twisted steel emerging from the walls. For an instant, Lyra recognized Twilight among the wreckage, her face screwed up in concentration.
And then, with a flash, she was gone.
Disoriented, Lyra staggered upright, her already abused body now doubly bruised, and made for the door, curiosity about the only remaining sensation her brain could clearly distinguish. Slowly, she pulled herself up to the threshold, and looked.
Beyond it was the last city of Man.
It was beautiful but austere; a procession of pyramids wrought from glass and steel, beneath a star field that somehow clung to the roof of the chamber. Slowly, she made her way down, becoming aware of a dull crimson glow along the streets. Everywhere, dim red lights slowly flared to life, and then dimmed to nothing, only to repeat this over and over. As she watched, they formed ripples of light, leading her on through the empty streets.
She followed them, entranced, or perhaps just shocked beyond logic. There was no distinction in her mind anymore. Slowly, the lights led her onwards, down to a section of road that seemed to be moving on its own. She stepped onto it, and it carried her away into the depths of the gleaming starlit city.
****
Twilight...was not having a good day. In fact today had rapidly sunk to the bottom of the barrel of her life, and then abruptly blasted through that down into the core of the earth.
It’d all started with that damn door.
“Uuuhhhhnnnhh...Celestia?”
She was just standing there. A lone light in the gray, dust choked air.
“Celestia! Are you alright?!”
Twilight ran to her mentor, once again the ever faithful student.
“There was that explosion and I just...”
She could see her now, her idol, and possibly the most pivotal figure in her life. Only it wasn’t her. Oh, she looked like the princess of the sun, except for the strange, ochre eyes that now stared from her skull. But she...wasn’t. Everything, her stiff posture, her empty expression, and the way her new eyes rolled about in insane, panicked circles. Over and over, her lips moved in a whispered mantra. “Ordersordersordersordersordersordersordersorders...”
Twilight could feel her mane begin to stand on end and hesitantly took a step back. That was a mistake.
Its eyes latched onto her, and it began to advance slowly, each hoofstep a wretched mockery. The motions were jerky and halting, like a puppeteer practicing the basics of their craft, trying to learn how to pretend at life. And always that gibbering mantra rattled on.
“Ordersordersordersorders...”
“Celestia...” Twilight whined softly, backing into the shadows, trying to sneak out of her former teacher’s light. “Please, what...” For once, Twilight was at a loss for a question. She just wanted to get away.
“Ordersordersordersordersordersorders—” Celestia’s head snapped up and over her shoulder, a dozen cracks ringing out in staccato as the joints popped. “The Other.”
Her horn flared to life and a beam of pure sunlight ripped forth, punching through the ceiling as though it were soft as frosting. Her wings flapped once, and she was gone: like a shooting star rendered in reverse.
Twilight was left alone, in the dark, a single spot of light shining on the floor from the skies somewhere above. With the immediate threat gone, her brain slowly began to put the pieces together.
Celestia was not Celestia. Celestia wanted an other. The only other to Celestia was...
“Luna!” She exclaimed into the darkness, momentary triumph turning instantly to panic as the implications of this reached her. “Oh, Luna!” Within seconds, she hastily composed a teleport spell that should take her to the Princess of the Moon. Should being the operative word, as she’d never actually ‘been’ in the Princess’s chambers, and it was the longest teleport she’d ever done, not to mention she was in a cave designed to trap even magical ponies, and that she was likely headed to the same destination as the mad Celestia-thing...
It occurred to Twilight that this was a phenomenally bad plan.
She was too busy teleporting to care.
****
Everything was a dull blur, empty pyramid after empty pyramid. A lone light caught her eye. It wasn’t a light, but a reflection, a mirror smooth tower made from square cylindrical segments, reaching up to the star speckled ceiling, its quicksilver surface catching and weaving their light around itself.
Slowly, it grew larger, and larger, until the sheer scale of the thing broke through her dull stupor. It didn’t matter that her princess had disappeared and her...friend (enemy?) had just up and abandoned her. None of it mattered, because she was HERE. Here among the collected works of mankind, surrounded by proof that they had been here. Around every corner, there was more evidence that they had touched and shaped the lives of ponies since before the written word, or perhaps even the painted word. Maybe their influence reached before the spoken word!
Slowly, the conveyer road carried her into the base of the building, now more a mountain than a tower, perhaps more a sky unto itself than a mountain. She passed under the threshold and Lyra’s breath caught in her throat. It was gorgeous. Light flowed like water through the building, dripping down trees made of alabaster and rainbows, a gentle forest shower of purity and warmth.
The road led her to a small clearing in the ‘forest,' where the light pooled into a sheet as smooth as glass. For a moment, Lyra hesitated, not wanting to soak herself with...light. But as her hoof touched down, the surface chimed lightly, and held her weight. Emboldened, she trotted out onto the smooth pane, and drank in the sights.
“Hello Lyra.”
She rounded, and there it was. A white robed figure, its face obscured, but with only two legs and two...
“Hands!” Lyra exclaimed, clapping her hooves on the floor in excitement, resulting in a gentle tinkling of chimes. “You’re a human! An actual honest-to-Celestia human!”
“Yes, Lyra, after a fashion. I understand you’ve had a fascination with us for a long time now.”
She squealed with delight.
“Oh, of course! How could I not! You’ve shaped so much of pony history! Why, the circles at Stonehoof, the pyramids of Giza, Marechu Pichu—” She stopped suddenly as the human laughed.
“Really, young Lyra, you give us too much credit.” He gave in to a second bout of chuckles. “Much of that was simply due to early ponies mimicking us. In truth...we tried to avoid influencing ponies as much as we could. We were at the end of our existence as you can understand it, and did not wish to leave a legacy identical to our own.” Though his face was hidden, there was the sense of a smile. “It seems, for the most part, that we succeeded. Though there is one more matter to resolve.”
All of Lyra’s questions dropped out of her head, the prospect of unfinished, human business catching her imagination. “Oh, what? Tell me tell me!” She hopped about frantically on her hooves, her maturity reduced to that of a young filly. The human, by contrast, grew dour.
“We know you already know the legend of the Last Eclipse. Sadly, as is often the case, that particular warning was corrupted through the ages. Ironic, that the one piece of knowledge we try to leave you would be lost.” He clapped his hands. His hands! Eeeeeee! “Now, it seems that our hand has been forced anyway. Or yours, to be more accurate.”
“M-mine?” Her brain blew a gasket, then several more, and then burst into flame.
“Yes, our time in this world is not nearing an end; it is well and truly over. We cannot defeat Eclipse as the legends promised: it’s not our place to clean up our messes anymore, as hypocritical as that sounds. Someday, millennia from now, you’ll understand.” His expression turned bright again. “However, that doesn’t mean we can’t point you to the custodial closet.”
****
“Twilight! Be reasonable!” It was a marvel that Shining Armor could be heard over the din of a hundred Royal Guards rushing in and out of the grand hall, but one did not become Captain of that very guard without being able to excel.
The purple pony flared her horn threateningly at her brother.
“I am being reasonable! I can’t evacuate with everyone else, what if the Princess needs me?”
“Luna or Celesta?” The captain of the guard’s tone was cutting. His sister may have been a magical prodigy, but she was young and given to flights of fancy. He wouldn’t lose her on some suicide mission to save their Princess.
Twilight only glared harder.
“Both.”
Shining Armor snorted.
“Your reputation’s gone to your head! We should retreat and re-organize, you know that! Just because you saved the world twice, doesn’t mean you should just fling yourself headlong into every frying pan you can find!” She shook her head fiercely.
“You’re right, but this is different. I...owe it to her, to both of them, but especially to Celestia. I’m going to save her.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she looked out the windows, to a Canterlot lit with flickering blazes of magic. “I have to.” Shining Armor bit his lip, a frustrated growl giving way to a sigh.
“Fine, just...”
“I know.” She smiled confidently at her brother. “Luna and I will sort it out, don’t worry.”
“Captain!” Luna herself swept into the great hall, clad in polished silver armor from head to hoof. It was a sight to behold, and a credit to the royal guard that not one stopped to stare. “How do thy preparations proceed?” The Captain snapped to attention, and gave his Princess a salute.
“As well as can be expected. The Guard has been holding with heavy casualties, but no fatalities yet. All ponies should be in position in a matter of minutes.” As he spoke, a bright red flare of magic launched into the sky, erupting into a small sun. “Correction, my princess, preparations are complete.” The Princess of the Night, and soon to be second to last defender of Canterlot, nodded with approval.
“We commend the Guards responsible for their efficiency, and thou for leading them well.” She touched his shoulder with her horn. “Go now, and we will confer with thou later.”
Shining Armor nodded, and with one last look at his brave little sister, he began empowering his horn. The light grew until it hurt to look at, filling the whole of the hall with its radiance, before suddenly flashing a dozen times stronger.
And then they were gone: guards, citizens, and every resident of Canterlot, sans two. Twilight cleared her throat in the sudden silence.
“He’s really something, isn’t he?” Luna nodded.
“It would tax even us to cast such a spell. Truly, thy brother is an exemplary captain. One of the best we have had in our service.” She turned to Twilight, looming over her by sheer consequence of her size. “Thou art sure that this...abomination will seek us, and not our subjects?”
“I’m almost certain, Princess. You’re Celestia’s sister, the only other true alicorn in existence! What else could ‘the other’ refer to?” She smiled confidently, missing the hesitation that flashed over Luna’s face.
“...Of course. Thou art correct.”
The great hall doors erupted, flaming splinters spraying through the air, burrowing into tapestry and stone with equal ease. Only a pair of shields raised at the last second saved Twilight and Luna from transforming into incendiary porcupines.
From the flames, the gibbering thing emerged, its eyes locked so firmly on Luna that the rest of its body seemed simply to trail along behind them.
“theothertheothertheothertheother...”
“Be thou our sister, or some abominable mockery, know this!” Luna advanced on the aberration, each of her hooves coming down with an earsplitting crack, the fine marble floors of Canterlot splintering beneath her rage. “Thou hast threatened our subjects, defiled our streets, and made mockery or slave out of our dearest sister.” The windows shattered, and storms clouded the sky, only to flow snakelike into the chamber itself. Lightning flickering between them as they began to rain.
“Let the rain be my tears for what I must do...AND THE LIGHTNING MY FURY.”
A dozen bolts lanced from the sky, their jagged fingers splaying around the Celestia thing, a golden shield only just forcing them away. Stone exploded around it, and the abomination countered with three golden beams, twining lethally towards Luna.
The dark princess of Canterlot only smiled, and let the beams strike her chest on.
“Luna!” Twilight raced forward, only to stop halfway.
Though the three beams strained against Luna, they could do no harm. They merely sizzled and flickered impotently against her dripping coat, raising a thin layer of steam from their strikes.
“Thou art truly a fool, to think you might start a fire in rain, or harness the sun beneath the storm.” Twenty bolts lashed out this time, easily shattering the dim shield that tried to stop them, hammering the feeble mockery into the ground. “Now, we truly know thou art just a pale perversion of our sister. She at least, knew to fight us above the clouds, where light holds sway over storm and stars. Beneath however, I RULE.”
The abomination leapt into the air, seemingly taking Luna’s advice, but the Princess only smirked, vicious storm winds battering it back down to earth, another salvo of lightning rewarding its efforts.
Luna advanced on its crumpled form, eyes hard and narrow.
“You are not my sister. Now relinquish her form, or die.”
Too late, Twilight saw something change in its eyes. A dark intelligence, as Luna approached.
“Princess! Get back!”
****
“What IS it?” Lyra asked wonderingly, stepping up to the form before her, wrought from quicksilver and starlight.
“One of our greatest achievements in our basest endeavor.”
“Can I use it?” Lyra felt like a filly on hearth’s warming eve.
“Why else would you be here?”
She could have squealed for hours.
****
Twilight could only watch in horror as it happened. The abomination began to...sing.
It was no song, no sound like she’d ever heard. Some birds came close, but none could have produced the rasping, buzzing, notes that skipped and lurched without rhyme or reason. The sound made her ears hurt, but worse, they made Luna freeze.
“Princess! GET AWAY!”
Luna simply stared, however. She simply sat there and stared, her eyes wide and unfocused.
“This sound...do you hear it?” Slowly, darkness began to leach from the tips of her hooves, like watercolors being washed away. “It sounds...familiar...” She began to fade, dimming and becoming translucent as more and more of her washed onto the abomination.
At the same time, the light flowed off the seething horror, becoming a feathery aura that danced around its edges. As the light departed, the darkness arrived, swallowing its form in a dark silhouette, blank of any feature but its horrible eyes. Soon, there was nothing left but pure blackness, surrounded by those blinding strands of light.
Luna’s armor collapsed on the ground, abruptly empty of what little substance had kept it standing. The...thing...blinked, its eyes becoming a brilliant, shining white, and two new wings unfurled from its back.
“Eclipse subroutines restored, verifying chain of command.”
It tilted its head sideways, and simply held still for a moment.
“Central command: Silent. Emergency Channels: Silent. Civilian Frequencies: Silent. Conclusion: Civilization Exterminated. Execute vengeance protocols.”
It blinked again, but when its eyes opened, they held nothing but terrible hellfire.
“I am Eclipse, and you are doomed.”
There was a snort.
“Not if I—” Twilight had barely enough time to teleport, appearing outside Canterlot castle as the entire structure was ripped open from within. It was mind numbingly horrifying to watch, the entire building, every brick, sailing up into the sky like so much sand.
And in the midst of it all was the one called Eclipse.
“By the star—” She cut herself short, teleporting out of the way as Eclipse hurled another stream of energy dead at her. Even having escaped the direct hit, the blast wave hurled her down the streets like a dried leaf. At least the tumbling saved her from having to watch as the beam ripped clean through streets of Canterlot, its soiled blend of light and darkness obliterating a swath almost half a mile deep.
On the plus side, she was alive, while on the negative side, everything else. In a way, she was glad Shining Armor wasn’t here to see this. Twilight certainly wished she wasn’t.
The four winged storm of shadow and death flew overhead, a million streams of corona blazing from its figure, lashing out through the melting stones of Canterlot, speeding their return to magma. All around Twilight, fires erupted from buildings as strands of light lashed down to ensnare them, and the air roared with explosions as bolts of twisting flame shot from Eclipse’s eyes.
Would the elements even work on this monster? Has it destroyed them already? Everyone’s still in ponyvi—
All at once, another blaze of energy interrupted her thoughts, and amid motion, light, and sound, she found herself again moving against her will.
This time, it was rather peaceful, a slow revolution as she sailed nearly half a mile into the air. Plenty of time to calculate how deep a crater she’d make in the cobblestones. Not a bad way to spend her last moments.
Then a giant flaming arrow bird made of chrome and sunlight flew from the earth, its open maw racing towards her.
****
Lyra ducked, the open cockpit of her new ship snatching Twilight out of the air.
“OH MY CELESTIA I DID IT!” Lyra’s scream of excitement was absolutely piercing as she pulled up on the controls, a startled Twilight Sparkle tumbling to the rear of the cockpit. The entire ship shuddered as it sliced clean through a tendril of fire, the cockpit snapping closed just in time.
“LYRA WHAT THE HAY IS GOING ON?!” Twilight sparkle was, needless to say, nerve-rendingly out of her element.
As she frantically tried to sit down in the copilot seat, Lyra proceeded to loop the ship through the air, a new pair of stone hands on her hooves allowing her to manipulate the ship’s controls.
“Me being right!” Lyra screamed giddily over the roar of the engines, whipping the craft into a tight bank, just barely avoiding another blast from Eclipse.
“Okay, okay!” Twilight frantically put a hoof to her mouth as the constant looping started to make her sick. “Fine, you win! Humans and everything! What do we do?!”
“I dunno!” This time, she wove the ship through the spires of Canterlot, narrowly avoiding two more blasts before thumbing a button on the control stick and replying with an azure knife of light. “The human suggested we win!” With a shriek, Eclipse exploded as the beam struck it, hurtling away from the impact like a rocket.
“Hah! Take— WHOOPS.” Another stomach destroying spin and energy blast later and they were still alive. “Okay! Maybe shooting it isn’t quite as effective as I hoped!”
Even turning the unflattering shade of green/purple that she was, Twilight Sparkle was one of the finest minds in Equestria, on magic or anything else. Given any problem, she could think of a solution, she was sure of it. She just needed information.
“Lyra! What is that thing out there?”
“It’s the last Eclipse! The one from the legends: mankind’s last folly and possibly the doom of the world!” Her words would have carried more impact if she didn’t have an insufferable grin the entire time. “Apparently, Celestia and Luna are parts of some ancient human weapon, and Eclipse just glues them all together into one! The human said ‘like a keystone’ or something!”
Twilight blinked.
“Wait, the Princesses are a weapon?”
“Yeah!” Lyra nodded emphatically, or perhaps just bobbed along as a dozen blazing needles lanced at them, one clipping the ship into a brief, vicious spin. “Well sorta. The human didn’t know why they’re ponies, but said that it was why they were immortal, and why they tend to go all crazy when they’re upset!”
Twilight made the connection.
“Like Nightmare Moon?”
“Yeah! Exactly!” Lyra pitched the ship down into the smoldering streets of Canterlot, hiding beneath the smoke and fire that blanketed the city's sky.
“Then Eclipse is basically...” And there it was: a plan. “Lyra! Can you get me to Ponyville in this thing?”
“Can I ever!”
****
Ten minutes later, and Lyra was feeling a good bit less optimistic.
“Don’t worry Twi! We’re al—” She threw the ship to the ground, the whole frame shuddering as it ripped a line of sod from the earth, a thick stream of lethal incandescence flashing past just above them. “Almost there!”
It took every ounce of willpower she had, but Twilight opened her mouth. Without vomiting.
“Please, just get me out of this thing.”
“Your wish...” With far too big a grin, Lyra pressed an ominously large and red button. The canopy popped open, and, for the briefest moment, she could see Twilight’s face as she realized just how she was leaving the plane.
“LYRAAAAAaaaaaa—” The ejection seat made a very satisfying whump, Lyra decided.
The canopy snapped shut once more, and alone at last, she resumed pitting her ancient human starfighter against humanity's greatest weapon! It was a marvel she didn’t die of excitement where she sat.
To be fair, half the fun was the fact that the fighter understood what she wanted to do and how to do it on its own. If it hadn’t, well, this would probably be a far shorter and uglier battle. As it was, however, she deftly corkscrewed through a shower of meteoric stars, before unleashing beams of nuclear hellfire on Eclipse, once again annoying the flank out of it.
You seem to be enjoying yourself.
She nearly jumped out of her seat until she remembered what the human had said about ‘mind machine interfaces’ and ‘global device networking’.
I am? She thought hesitantly. You can hear this?
Of course. The fighter has to read minds to work. This is just an added bonus.
Lyra squealed aloud, diving close enough to smack her wing into Eclipse’s face.
This is so cool! I wish I’d lived in your time!
And been a human?
Yeah! You guys were awesome!
She felt the human snicker. You say as you battle our out-of-control weapon of destruction.
With your other, under control and totally awesome weapon of destruction! All you guys did was build awesome stuff! For emphasis she released a swarm of smart drones, and watched as they looped around Eclipse to pelt it with their own lasers.
Don’t sell your own world short: a world in which the magic of friendship is actually a real, tangible force. That’s something to be treasured.
Pffft, everyone knows about the Elements of Harmony. They’re nothing special. She watched as Eclipse vaporized the drones, and then hurled a wide slash of darkness at her, followed by a dozen others. I’m the one kicking flank after all!
Maybe so, maybe so, but look around you.
She spared a glance for the world around Eclipse, and somehow saw it for the first time. All the colors, the greens, the yellows, the blues...they were gone. In their place was a world of black, gray, and red. Smoke boiled up in thick towers around the two of them, as flames devoured the land below, and brilliant death lanced between them.
Stars above...
And if I told you that this was nothing special to the age of man?
She swallowed, turning back to her fight. I’d be scared.
Good.
****
Hours passed, and what was once excitement turned to a sort of stressful boredom. Over and over, the dance would repeat, endless exchanges of power and wrath, every time shaped into new forms, but always with the same intent: to destroy.
Did you all... Lyra couldn’t finish the thought, exhaustively releasing a spray of nuclear flack, washing out the blazing shadow before her under a dozen suns.
No, this was not the whole of human existence, but it was a part. He sounded so sad. It was most certainly a part.
Why? It was all she could ask. Her mind couldn’t handle the specifics, not like this, not as she fled a thousand claws of wrought oblivion. Why?
It was part of us, the love of war. We could survive it, and in our own way, we enjoyed it. There was never a good enough reason to stop. At least, not one better than the reason to start.
She shook her head, trying to focus on the battle that was rapidly turning her stomach.
I never imagined you could be so...
I know. Our wonders came at such a terrible price.
She simply nodded.
But...there were wonders? It was...worth it? Yes?
He chuckled, as one might to a scared child. It was. I assure you it was. Our world was not an unending nightmare, simply...unpleasant at times, but there were good things. There were such amazing and wonderful things. Just look around you.
She did. It was a gorgeous ship, made from water and light, more graceful than the fleetest bird. Every display and readout hovered before her, glittering motes of information in every color of the rainbow. But at the same time, it was a weapon of impossible power and destruction.
It was then that she understood.
There wasn’t a line, was there? Between good and bad.
No, no there wasn’t.
Lyra was silent. What could she say? It was an idea so revolutionary, so dangerous, and so different that there was no way to respond.
It was then that Lyra felt her attention being directed elsewhere, the ship detecting something it could not comprehend. She let her eyes move of their own accord, and they settled on the smoking ruin of Canterlot, its fires still glinting on the horizon. There, a rainbow flared into existence, arcing through cloud and flame, washing over a startled Eclipse. With a howl and a flash of light, it was split in two, the left becoming Luna, the right, Celestia. In between, a twisted shadow lingered, and then slowly dissolved into the breeze like so much ash.
Lyra could only stare.
They... they did it.
True, but more than that...it was done with kindness. Do you understand?
Maybe, was all Lyra could muster.
Our world wasn’t one to make way for kindness. Kindness had a place, but so often it made way for other things, most often greed.
He paused.
Lyra, I said we left this world specifically to not leave it a legacy. This is why. We never would have created the Elements of Harmony, never resolved a rogue weapon with...friendship. Through our last hard choice, we spared you a world where these things were impossible. Don’t take that for granted.
But...Lyra hesitated. What do I do now? I know you exist, I know there really is a city under Canterlot, and...I know there’s...there’s no line.
It’s a difficult question, but that’s the point of being alive: the difficult questions. All I can say is, so far, only Twilight and you know the truth. Celestia knows there’s a giant energy phenomenon under her castle, but hey, what else is new?
Lyra chuckled.
It is a weird place, Equestria. She sighed. But what do I do...not just about this, but...about my life?
Well...
Lyra’s ears perked.
Yes?
You already know the big secret, the one that could have changed your world.
That there is no line. She finished.
Yes, but you forget one thing.
What?
That we survived it. It was hard sometimes, but we did. And so, I would like to offer you stewardship over all our secrets.
Excuse me?
The big issue was not how we did things, but what we chose to do, and why. We wanted to shield you from that, so that you could find your own answers, to your own questions. But now that you’ve inherited our question, it’s only fair we share the answers we found.
But isn’t that dangerous? Can’t I make the world worse?
Like I said, we left so you could find your own answers to your own questions. Our legacy is our question. What place our legacy has in this new world...that’s yours. It’s up to you to answer it.
But...it so big...The mere thought filled her with an unspeakable terror.
And what else would you do?
Lyra couldn’t say. Instead, she quietly guided the ship back to Canterlot. Back to the hole it had come from, and the secrets within.
****
Twilight and Lyra stood outside the ‘new’ Gate to the human city, beneath its new stone roof, the two having just finished its installation.
“So,” Lyra began, “Celestia doesn’t...”
“Not a single thing. Luna either.” Twilight confirmed. “I even snuck my letter back out and destroyed it.” Her face soured into a scowl. “That doesn’t let you off the hook though! Ponies could have been killed!”
“You mean nopony died?” A look of surprise spread across Lyra's face.
“No.” Twilight grunted, her eyes narrowing. “There were a lot of injuries among the royal guard. Some might very well be crippled for life, but no, by some miracle everypony survived.” She buried her face in her hoof. “You should be tried for this. Jailed. Punished.”
“But no one can know...” She trailed off, her expression grim.
“No, they can't, and it wouldn't do anypony any good at this point. The damage is done, it's over.” She shook her head, and turned to leave. “It's best we just forget about this.”
"How can I?" Lyra hesitated, placing a hoof against the steel door. “Before, I only thought good could come of this. I thought anything was okay, so long as I proved there were humans, and discovered all their secrets. But...”
“The price was so much higher than you expected.” Twilight finished.
“It was. I never should have been so rash. I should have taken this slower, and not gone all psycho vigilante on you. On everyone. I should have trusted you to give me the benefit of the doubt, and not tried to show you up.” She sighed. “I had no idea...”
“I just hope learned something. For all those ponies sakes.” After a moment, the librarian's curiosity got the better of her, and she turned back. “The humans, did they...?”
“Yeah, they gave me everything they knew.” She chuckled darkly, a strange sound coming from her. “Kind of fitting I learned my lesson the hard way today. That’s the only way they did it. Twilight...I’ve seen things, with their eyes, that you couldn’t begin to imagine. Terrible things. They built wonders, but at such a high price, so much higher than ours. Every day, more humans died than do ponies in a year. There was famine, war, and disease everywhere.”
Twilight shuddered.
“Sounds horrible.”
Lyra nodded, and gave the steel door one last pat.
“It was, but at the same time, it made them so wonderful. That they still found a way to laugh, to love, and in the end, to build the tomorrow they’d always dreamed of...it’s something else, Twilight Sparkle.”
And she realized that those words said it all.
“It was simply something else.”
The two sat in silence, Twilight finally speaking up.
“We have to get back, before we’re missed." There was a pregnant pause. "What are you going to do now, Lyra?”
The question was so perfect, it made her laugh: an honest, clean laugh.
“I have no idea.”
And that was the perfect answer.