The Ponies of Equestria are gone. This is not their story.
The Ponies are gone, and nobody knows how, where, or why. What they do know, though, is they took the Sun and Moon with them. But Equestria will not go gently into the night. --- Inspired by the description of events in Negotiations. Not part of the same continuity. --
-- Rated Teen and Dark because...well, what do you rate post-apocalyptic scenarios? It's not adventure till I give em a quest, and I'm not entirely sure where or how far I want to take this. We'll see.
Of course, I had been sleeping, so I assumed it was still night. Which was true, I suppose - but there's a difference between something that's true and the truth.
I laid my head back down and tried to sleep, but something was wrong. I couldn't say what - I was and still am a Brave, not a Shaman of any sort - but I could not calm my mind enough to return to sleep. Restless, I rose and left my thipi to see if the moon and stars might calm me.
I was not the first to seek that solace. I saw a great many of my tribe out amongst the night who looked just as uneasy as myself - perhaps more so.
It was here when I became truly concerned. A single Buffalo Brave having a restless night is bad luck, but not unusual. For so many to rise all at once was beyond mere luck - it was an ill omen.
With my gangly legs I wandered about the camp. Whispers were exchanged between those standing together, huddled close for comfort and warmth. I received a few nods of acknowledgement, but none were willing to truly talk. I was grateful for that, for I did not wish to speak myself.
The sense of unease only grew as I walked, and I felt my tail and ears lash about in frustration despite my attempts to remain calm. Frustrated, I sat myself down and closed my eyes. Taking deep breaths, I waited until my extremities were under control before turning my eyes to the sky. I thought perhaps knowing the hour might help calm me, so I searched for the Moon.
On the first glance, I thought perhaps I had confused my directions. After the second, I stood and turned to view the whole bowl of sky for the third. Even as I rose to my feet I felt my stomach fall and drop cold. I could only stand and stare as fear chilled my bones, even as Chief Thunderhooves' powerful bellow carried out from near the center of camp -
"What do you mean the Moon is gone?"
I was the fastest runner, and so I saw it first. Or rather, did not see.
We were not far from the Pony settlement of Appleloosa - it had been only a couple days, walking uphill and without concern for speed. Running, a young Buffalo Brave like myself could make the trip in much less time.
I cannot remember the words that were said before I was sent. I was paralyzed by panic and lost in the chaos of my own thoughts. I could not forget what the Shaman said, though my memory cuts it far simpler than her words.
The Moon is gone. Perhaps the Sun, too.
Chief and Shaman had argued even as Warriors worried about - unsure of what to do. Mothers and children had risen from their beds as well, and I suspect they had been awake for some time. Thunderhooves has a great voice, but my tribe has slept through louder in the past. It's far more likely they had awoken when I had, but chose to stay in bed and try to rest rather than wander, for which I could not blame them. My eyes followed the motions of my kin, and my ears fell deaf to the words of my leaders. Here a calf buried her face into her mothers leg - there a warrior tore at the ground. All the while the yelling grew ever louder.
I know not how much time passed before I was called over. Again, the exact words fell apart the moment they entered my ears, but I found myself running north shortly after, with simple instructions.
Find the Ponies. Find out what happened.
It was not a short run, and when I was forced to rest I found the warmth of my blood had dispelled the frozen clutches of fear, to my detriment, for now suddenly I could think. If there was no Moon, no Sun - what was to become of us? What would we do?
I did my best to banish these thoughts - it was for the Chief and Shaman to decide what should be done. I was to speak to the Ponies, and find out what they knew. The Sun and Moon were their charges - they would know better than any what happened, and what could be done.
I consoled myself as resumed running. The Ponies were skilled and clever with their magic - it was likely they would have a solution soon. There is nothing to worry about. We simply must make sure that they know we offer our help, if they need it - though surely they would not. A thousand years and more of handling the Sun and Moon, with little incident. Surely, it was not really a concern. Certainly.
I caught sight of the orchard and slowed myself - I would need my breath to speak, after all, and Appleloosa would not be far behind. I thanked the Stars for their light, in guiding the way through the darkness - but here fear found me again.
There were no lights. The Ponies always had lights.
Appleloosa was gone. I still do not know where it went. Trails the Ponies had walked through the trees remained packed down, but the border of the settlement was a sharp line in the soil, as though they had never been. I wandered through the dust, though what I hoped to find I cannot say. I saw disturbed earth where I knew a building had once been. An unfinished fence and two bales of hay. An old horseshoe.
There was so much missing, simply gone. The only thing that had come in place was air that tasted of sand and storms. I remember feeling lightheaded and standing still for a time - it may have been moments, minutes, or hours, I cannot say. At some point, I emptied what little was in my stomach and screamed.
I sought and found the well. The water helped, but I could not bring myself to touch the hay.
I was much faster returning.
Time is so hard to keep when there is no Sun or Moon, but unless I had become one with the Wind I knew it must have been a days worth and then some by the time I returned. I had not stopped to rest, because I could not - my people needed to know.
Their faces shone with hope when I returned, though I watched it fall like leaves in an autumn wind as I passed them by - breathless and dripped with sweat despite the cold air - every figure was huddled around a blazing fire and swaddled in blankets. I dared not stop and speak to any who called my name.
The central fire was the largest, and had the most Buffalo around it. Our Warriors and Medicine Women huddled together, speaking in quiet tones that stopped as soon as I rounded the corner - or perhaps they continued, but I could not hear them over my pounding heart.
I stood and shivered in the shadows thrown by the fire until I saw two large figures rise and approach - the Chief and Shaman.
I looked them in the eyes as best as I could - my vision was blurred - and told them what I knew.
Not like it had been in a particularly good order beforehand, but things kind of worked. Griffons might squabble and snap at each other but by and large they all kind of kept to themselves. And, heck, I'm no grand diplomat but I'd like to think I'd been helping spread some camaraderie around. Or at least getting everyone to be a little less of a jerk to each other in exchange for scones.
But when the Sun didn't rise, feathers hit the fan. A few minutes and nobody cares - so a Pony Princess overslept, big deal. A few hours, though, and suddenly every talon is itching to tear down your door for firewood.
Lovely place, really.
That's not to say all Griffons are jerks, just that - well, most of us are. Kind of a default setting there. We're working on it. And by we, I mean myself and about a dozen other Griffons who took the "magic of friendship" to heart. Or maybe just my scones. I don't care, really, except that when Griffonstone was tearing itself apart they came with me instead of after me.
I don't know too many of em that well - I'm no saint. But I know Greta and Gabby by name, and the rest seemed to like me well enough to stick around. There's a small kid, too - I didn't know their name. I'd been a bit too busy to take down everybody's name.
We'd been flying for a day or - whatever. Do days exist without a Sun? Does it matter?
Anyway, we'd been flying for a bit when we came to the ocean shore. Gabby and Greta were having a...discussion about what we were going to do next. I'd already made my opinion on that matter clear.
I fluffed up my feathers - Griffonstone was cold enough on a sunny day; when you skip the Sunshine it starts to get a bit nippy. I was thinking about tucking my head under my wing and catching a quick cat-nap when that darned kid had to poke his beak in my business. Literally. As in, he poked my ribs with his beak.
I snapped my wing out in surprise "-What?" and beaned the kid right in the head. Wings might look fluffy, but there's a ton of muscle behind em, so that kid went rolling beak over tail. It would've been kinda funny on a better day.
"Ahh jeez." I stepped over and picked the kid up. "You okay there short stuff?"
He looked up at me with the fiercest look you can manage when you're a third the size of someone and holding your hands to your face. " 'M not short."
I scoffed. "You're short to me. How's your beak?" I pulled his talons away. He winced a tad, but there was no blood. "You'll be fine, kid. Go find your mom. Or dad. Whatever." I turned back around to the cliff.
He waddled over to me, for some reason. "I had a question."
I didn't look at him. "Go ask your parents, or something."
"I had a question for you."
I turned an eye towards him. I considered for a moment telling him to scram - not like I owed the kid anything - but instead I sighed and rolled my eyes.
"Fine."
He waited a moment, scratching at the dirt. I was about to tell him to stop wasting my time when he finally figured out how to talk again.
"Where are we going, anyway?"
"South."
"But why, though?"
"Cus the Sun's gone, doofus."
I could hear the frown in his voice. "That's not what I meant. Why are we heading there, instead of staying in Griffonstone?"
I pinched my beak-ridge. Ponies aren't the only dense ones, I guess. I waved the kid over with my talon. He shuffled up and I pulled his head up against mine so he was looking at the same thing I was.
"Look, kid. What do you see that way?"
He frowned. "Nothing. There's no light."
I bopped his head. "Look at the whole thing, shorty."
It took him a minute, but I watched his head move around and eyes squint as his tiny little bird-brain tried to put it together. He looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "I guess there's....less stars?" I nodded. He frowned and started to argue "But what does that have to do with -"
I pinched his beak shut. He glared at me. I ignored it. "There's less stars because, and listen closely kid, there's something bright down that way that's making it hard to see them. I'll give you three guesses why that's important." I didn't. "It's cause light and heat are usually close together. Griffonstone is gonna get awful cold awful fast, and I don't know about you, kiddo, but I don't wanna see how cold it can get. Did all that make it into your head?"
He nodded and didn't say anything. I thought for a minute I was gonna get my nap right then and there, but then he opened his mouth again. "...What do you think is down there, Gilda?"
I didn't answer for a time. I waited for the maps I'd seen - and the warnings that had been scribbled down at the bottom - to fade from my memory. "...What's your name?"
He shuffled his feet. "...Graff."
I sighed. "Right. Okay. Well, squirt - what do you know about volcanoes?"
It sounds good, at first - be in charge of all the Dragons of the world. With a wave of this scepter, you can tell any Dragon, anywhere, what to do.
There's just two problems, really. The first is that you've gotta decide what you're gonna tell em to do - if you're not specific enough, some of em can get creative and do something that really messes up what you were planning.
The second problem is that Dragons are kinda lazy - so they're not gonna do anything until you tell them to.
So here I am, Lord of the Dragons, walking in circles and wracking my brain. It's been three days since the Sun failed to rise. Some of the Dragons are over it - as far as they're concerned it's a minor inconvenience since we've got good vision in the dark, and lava to keep us warm. Some have grown more and more concerned as the...daylessness goes on. They've started to either go into hiding or, worse - ask me what to do.
I hate that, because I don't know. Nobody tells you how to deal with the Sun disappearing.
I tried to send a letter to Spike to ask. He'd shown me how at one point, before he left. But rather than burning cleanly into a swirl of smoke that whisked away across the horizon, the letter just...burned. I tried it a couple more times. Or several. A lot. I might have used up all my paper.
It would be one thing if he didn't answer - he could be busy, or just not have any paper himself - not a big deal. Heck, I wouldn't be surprised - if something is up with the Sun and Moon you'd expect them to be going crazy trying to fix it. That's what their Princesses do, so they'd be totally freaked if something went weird.
But the messages weren't just getting ignored. They weren't sending. I'm not a mage or a scholar but - that's not a good sign. Dragons are tougher than Ponies, by a long shot - have you ever seen a Pony bathe in Lava? - so if something was messing up Spike getting the message...it didn't look good for the Pony Princesses, which meant it didn't look good for the Sun, either.
Some dragons weren't worried - but some were, and they wanted to know what to do. They brought their concerns to their Dragon Lord - me - and I'm just trying to sort it out.
The Lava will keep us nice and warm for a while, so we don't have to panic, at least. But lava cools off, eventually - that's why we migrate - and even if it's a hundred years before we have to deal with that...the rest of the world is going to get colder in the meantime. If it gets too cold, will we be able to fly far enough before we freeze? I don't know. I don't want to wait and find out.
But I'm not sure what else to do.
One good thing about ruling the Dragons, I guess, is that a lot of them are really, really old.
That sounds kind of weird when I put it that way, but I've got a point. Some of them know some really, really old stuff. I used the Scepter to summon the oldest dragons to comb their brains. Teamwork saved my scales once, maybe it'll do it again.
They're huge. One of them has teeth bigger than me in every direction. But more than that, they've got stories.
They talk about the birth of the Sun. They don't make a lot of sense, and a lot of their stories are contradictory. The Sun was made by Unicorns. The Sun was made by Dragons. The Sun was made with the blood of all the races of the world.
They have one thing in common, if you didn't notice - the Sun was made.
I don't know how, or by who. I don't know if I - we - anyone can make a new one.
But I know I've got to try.
I'm not happy about the situation. All the Ancient Dragons could agree on was that the Sun was made in some Ancient City somewhere that's long abandoned. They can't agree on who or when or where, exactly, but from the sound of it, it was some deep jungle temple. I know where there's a jungle, and while I don't know where an ancient, abandoned city could be in it...who else is going to look?
I guess I could order some other Dragons to do the searching. Maybe I should. After all, that's what the Dragon Lord does, right? Tells other Dragons what to do.
But I can't. I can't ask them to do this. Don't ask me why, I don't know. Maybe I don't trust them to do the job right, or know what to look for. Heck, I don't know what to tell them to look for.
But I can't let everything end like this, slowly freezing until all that's left are Dragons frozen in sleep.
I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that's not the end.
