So many had died, and still they came. Common sense dictated that beasts so fiery and independent would be just as rare as they were powerful. At the sight of a hoard of scales large enough to blot out the sun, common sense fell upon its sword in shame.
The dragons had come, and with a vengeance.
Celestia had prepared.
Dragon politics was an extremely secretive affair. Still, a pair of agents had managed to infiltrate the selection for the new Dragonlord, and found security lax indeed. The secret appeared to be a scepter that commanded the wills—or at least the loyalties—of the dragons.
In that light, their general secrecy about...well, everything was warranted. From what they ate in their native lands to how they conducted politics, it was all treated as information to be guarded without regard to cost. Celestia had eventually given up on cajoling a dragon into cooperation and attempted to hatch one of her own with eggs gained through less...legitimate sources. The unfortunate results of which she teleported into the sea. The last one went in the newly-started school for talented unicorns as a test for foals trying out.
There was a pain in her chest.
Her school, and the talented young foals who would be trying out this fall, wouldn’t see another year if the dragons got too far.
They had to be stopped. And like their secrecy, this too was a resolution Celestia would hold at any cost.
A resolution they had ignored.
I should have brought the sun down on them when I had the chance.
The thought flashed through her head, along with many others like it. A thought she would never act on. She’d ask Luna to help her with it later—
A green-eyed glare flashed her way. Luna snorted, then left the chamber. Eyes followed her out, all except Celestia’s, whose stare was frozen on the place her sister had stood. She’d forgotten. Again.
Years of aid without obligation, or caring without coolness—those were hard to disregard. Luna was a different mare now. She had poured herself into her studies without regard to anypony around her until her eyes constantly burned with green fire even when not actively using the new branch of magic she’d found, the one she’d called mental magic.
Dark magic would be more appropriate.
Magic wasn’t sentient. It didn’t think, or hurt, or feel. It was just a tool. But Luna had begun practicing right when she’d started becoming more and more distant. And the green eyes, the state of rage or fear it induced, the way it could prey upon an unprepared mind…
It was hard not to hate.
Celestia repaired the cracks in her mask. They were subtle, but still there. And it became easier and easier to feel an emotion the more she wore it. She wore her Calm like another might wear a hat they disliked, but was the only one that could be worn for a funeral, and there was a funeral every day…
She made a noise. In another mare, it might have indicated a polite bit of upset, a barely held back expression of dissatisfaction with the amount of sugar in her tea. Here, from her…
Eyes locked on to hers, pointedly not looking in the direction of her departed sister. “Find the statue. Send the orders. Do. Your. Jobs,” she said, eyes still fixed on a point in the air formerly filled by her little s—by Luna. They were not the same pony.
Not anymore, she reminded herself forcefully.
She took a step forward, toward the towering double doors. They shouldn't have been there—she wasn’t that kind of pony. But she’d been persuaded—
She was distracting herself. Not anymore. She walked with slow but firm steps toward the doors. The ranks of ponies arranged to the sides broke and all but galloped out of the chamber, through side entrances, back hallways, some even deigning to lower themselves to use servant entrances that they otherwise would not have been caught dead near—she held back a snort—but none followed her example.
They closed behind her, grinding together in a sudden jolt, imparting a sense of finality she couldn’t shake.
“Luna.”
Her sister—her equal—stood at the other end of the pavilion, a curious emptiness to her gaze.
“I wondered if you’d come,” she said. Her words were soft, but carrying. Celestia’s ears still twitched to catch them.
Celestia gestured at the guards beside the heavy, ornate doors. “Leave us.”
They were too professional to show their relief. They lifted off, one after the other, the pegasus attempting to tangle the thestral’s wings as they left.
You could tell a lot about how Equestria saw something by how the guards reacted.
“—you didn’t before!” Luna shouted. Celestia flattened her ears and took an involuntary step back at the abrupt change in volume. The guards looked back, but the thestral succeeded in a nudge that was just a little too hard to be accidental, sending the pegasus spiraling down fifty feet before he could recover himself. “You didn’t before,” she said again, softly.
“I was busy.” The excuse rang hollow.
“Busy.” Luna took a step forward.
“Luna, please. I didn’t understand. How could I? The court—”
“—oh yes, your precious court,” Luna growled.
This was all going so wrong.
“Please. If you never listen to anything I say again—fine. But let us please, just once, talk. No guards. No court. Nothing but you and me.”
Her glare softened. Stance weakened.
Please, Celestia begged. If the stars were listening, then—please.
“The stars will aid in her escape.”
“That...what?”
“You said. When...before. You said.” Luna stared at Celestia. She was begging. Beseeching.
“I don’t—” Celestia stopped.
She remembered. Vividly. Luna had been a foal. Too young to remember. Celestia herself didn’t even remember her name. But she’d given her foals one last smile.
“The stars have come for me. But I’ll be back. Don’t worry. They will aid in my escape.”
Celestia didn’t know how she’d left. There had been a bright explosion of light, and then six gems that landed at her hooves. They were safe now. Luna knew about them, but didn’t ask.
They talked. It was gibberish. Madness. Insanity. And Luna would never know. No one would. Not if Celestia could help it.
“It wasn’t like this before. It used to be perfect. Now...dragons at our doorstep, sister. When is she coming back?”
Celestia’s jaw worked several times as she tried to give voice to her answer. “It… She… She never said.”
“Will she ever come back?” Luna said, the lost confusion of a foal plain on her face. Celestia’s heart ached at the sight. But Luna was not a foal. Not anymore.
“I don’t know, sister. I—” her breath hitched. “—I have been wondering the same.”
Her sister took the words at their face value. Nodded once. “I’m going to stop this war.”
“Luna! No, you can’t—”
“Either you do it, or I do.”
They gazed at each other. Celestia, yearning for her sister back. Luna at the edge of making a terrible, terrible mistake. “I can’t do that,” Celestia whispered.
Luna nodded. “I don’t blame you. It...hurts. But it is necessary.”
“No. No, it’s not. It’s never necessary. There’s always another way.”
“Is there? Is there really?” Luna asked.
It wasn’t for show. There was longing in her eyes. She didn’t want to do it either. If Celestia could think of something, anything…
Even as she searched, exploring every remembered avenue in a few too-quick seconds, Luna’s expression hardened.
“Please, let’s just talk about—”
They were the wrong words.
“We will talk,” Luna bit out, “when the war is over.”
She left.
Celestia looked after, helpless. Her sister—Luna could end the war in a few moments. It would kill everyone. Dragon, pony, griffin, every beast under the sun would die, if not in body, in spirit. Her creations could take any and drive them to utter madness within moons. Her preparation would be spent in ensorcelling them so they would only go where she bid, rabid dogs at tearing at an enchanted leash. If all went well, every dragon in the realm would die a slow, painful death. Their natural resistance to magic would only make it worse as they fought off the initial onslaught, falling to the next like a felled deer to a wolf. And if there was the slightest weakness to the enchantments, the tiniest extra strain of the leash...the dragons would not be the only ones driven to madness.
And Celestia couldn’t blame her.
But the sun would meet the earth before she condoned such actions.
The great dragon tried to slumber, despite the futility. Each time he neared pleasant oblivion, a painful jolt woke him.
“...prisoners. They’re both over here, if you want to see them. Maybe you don’t.” A snort. “Lazy.”
Jrad cracked an eyelid. Torch filled his vision. The other dragon was an adult now, past the stage at which most young dragons died of a myriad of inherited genetic diseases. In many places, a wyrm was not considered a dragon until they reached this age, instead given standing equal to a mortal creature. If he stayed out of stupid, pointless conflict, he could live comfortably for thousands of years.
Which made what he had to say even harder.
“Go...take the scepter,” Jrad breathed. “Stop them. They’re idiots. All of them. If they aren’t brought to heel—” Torch blinked at the last word. It meant something different now, probably. Didn’t matter. Torch would get it. He was smart. “—they will see us all dead.”
“The new Dragonlord is set on this war. So is...pretty much everybody. He’s protected.”
“You...will find a way,” Jrad breathed. He needed to get back to sleep soon. Being awake was draining the precious energy he still had left.
“...Foolish,” Torch said. He sounded almost...sad. That was a feat, for a dragon. Maybe he really meant it.
Jrad laughed. A thin wave of soot left his snout. It wasn’t supposed to do that. Meant you were young and destined to die, or old and the same. “You can do it. Wyrm like you, would be—” he broke off, coughing.
Torch waited for the fit to finish. “Not that. I’m just waiting for the right moment. It’s you.”
“Mmm...me?”
“You’re almost dead. All because you won’t eat any gems.”
“I...have more. Stored. When I get close…”
“Foolish.” Torch shook his head.
“Have to make an example. Can’t command it, anymore. They won’t regenerate if they keep this up. The growth isn’t worth it. Isn’t worth...where was I?”
“The prisoners.”
“Prisoners?” Jrad finally took in the entirety of his cavern. Two ponies trembled against the far wall, across the empty cavern. “Ah...yes. Leave them with me.”
Torch looked over him, but must have decided he’d gotten the message. “Hmm. Time to go, then. We have scouting...never mind. Just—don’t die.” He left, each wing beat causing the ponies to tremble.
Then he was gone. They stood up fully, then. Bits of metal shone on their heads and shoulders and hooves, shiny pieces that reflected the light. Jrad itched to add them to his—no. He didn’t have a hoard. He’d given it up for the scepter. Any attempted replacement would be an insult to its memory.
“We’re not afraid of you! We’re battle-hardened Royal Legionnaires, and...and…” The pony trembled again as Jrad swung his head toward him. The pony held a thin rod of wood with a bit of metal atop it as if to ward off attacks. The word for it escaped him for a moment before Jrad hauled it screaming out of the cavernous depths of his memory. It was a spear.
“Ponies…” Jrad said, dragging the word out as he considered the two ‘prisoners.’ The other one was looking through her saddlebags, ignoring him. “You stick together. Never separate. Not for long.”
One was now frozen in terror and dragonfear, while the other continued her mysterious search.
“Somebody...or should I say somepony? Yes, they were starting to adopt the word when I...visited. That pony will be here soon. Or a group. They will...talk. With me. And so will you.”
“Why?” the non-frozen pony said, businesslike as she abandoned her saddlebags to face him. The dragonfear hit her, but she shrugged it off. The effects would build over time, until she was as frozen as the other pony. But for now, she bore it without complaint. This one was strong. Good.
“Your Princesses...they have...power. I would that they not use it. We have…a plan, you see. One that will stop the war as soon as it is completed. Your Princesses...they must know. They are good rulers. I met them…” he trailed off. They were strong. Able to hold off an entire chamber of dragonfear, the ability that only manifested in adult dragons. Those able to completely sever their connection to the scepter and begin another link, if they wanted. One to an element.
Jrad had done so. Fire suited him. But without anything to consume, it turned on him, eating him. He would die without gems, soon. He’d lied to Torch. He’d eaten his last store...long ago.
The pain stabbed.
“You want to stop the war?” she was cautious. That was also good. She was one that would be trusted.
“Yes. Tell the dark Princess to search your memory. She will find me. I am...known.”
She startled. “Search my...memory?” The movement blocked the other pony’s view of Jrad’s eyes for a second, breaking the connection. The dragonfear dissipated. He threw himself into a fierce staring competition, trying to beat Jrad’s gaze again—
—and failed, becoming completely immobile once more.
“The Princess can’t—well, she’s studying a new type of magic, but—well, she wouldn’t, and besides, she hasn’t left the castle since she began.”
Jrad shifted into a more comfortable position, trying to relieve the jolting pain. The cavern rumbled, sending several rocks down on the heads of the cowering pegasi.
“She is a dreamwalker. She had been such for...long. A long time. She can find your memories from the dreamscape, if she wishes.”
The only dragon dreamwalkers were deep below the earth, barely subsisting on the level of ambient magic the planet now provided. Jrad had been young when the last one went into the Deep Slumber, when magic grew too thin to support any dragon users of the high magics.
“Th—that means—” she too was almost frozen with dragonfear by now, barely able to get her words out.
“You will listen.” Jrad focused on the ponies, dredging up a skill he hadn’t used in a long time. One that required concentration. “Find your Princesses.” The command registered and they both nodded. “Tell them we have a plan to stop the war. Tell them not to use their abilities.”
The geas took hold.
Jrad snorted. Unprepared whelps. Everybody learned how to block, if not cast, a geas when growing up. Otherwise the unwary would end up punching himself in the face wherever he went, or flying to distant lands on a ‘dare’ he had no choice about…
Well, now that he thought about it, it wasn’t really taught anymore. Even Torch only knew how to block it, and that only because Jrad had taught him. Some dragons might only think it a myth, or not even know of it in the first place…
And that is how magic fades. Taking the generation who would remember along with itself, leaving an ever-lower level until there is nobody left.
And with a start, Jrad realized he was awake. Fully awake, without the comforting embrace of even a half-slumber to fall back to. Awake, and using energy.
“Do either of you happen to have gems?” he asked the ponies, breaking the gaze.
“No.”
And, hesitantly the other echoed, “No…”
“A shame,” he said, then died.
Flash Magnus flew in front of the two ponies, occasionally glancing behind at the roaring dragon behind them. He whistled.
“What’d you guys do? They don’t even get this riled up when you cook and fry their own eggs in front of them!”
“I don’t know!” one of the Legionnaires squealed, clutching his saddlebags with his forehooves as if to reassure himself he had something concrete to hold on to, and glancing nervously behind every half-second.
“Neither do I,” the other said grimly. “He’ll probably be able to figure it out after we land, though. Just doesn’t deal with stress well.” She nudged the other pegasus playfully. He shrieked and rolled to the side.
The dragon roared again, the sound suspiciously similar to a cry of grief.
There were whispers. Things said in the shadows, the places her sister liked best. Hopefully, the new mare who'd taken her place wouldn’t notice.
But Celestia suspected she would. And with that notice would come renewed bitterness, at their ponies, at her…
The dragons were at their doorstep. Ponies evacuated toward the Everfree castle in droves, fleeing a wave of blood and fire. The sun’s light hung in the sky, a ball of energy dragged from the planet’s core and set to rotate opposite the moon.
Sometimes it was hard to keep herself from taking that energy in her magical grip and dragging it smashing down on the dragons, crushing them like—
The thoughts were back.
She needed her sister.
Celestia began the long walk to Luna’s quarters. The stares, the bows, the disgusting adoration followed her the entire way, and she couldn’t even teleport because some of the older dragons could do it, and security was of utmost importance.
A guard held open a door for her as she passed, almost groveling.
She’d never wanted—
lies
—didn’t want to be worshipped. Respected, yes. Obeyed…sometimes. But she’d taken it too far. Her image was too finely crafted. If she was visibly upset, anypony in the vicinity was sure they would be cursed with bad luck for the year, and every single negative event would be attributed to it. If she showed pleasure, it was the opposite, and the pony would not cease praising her until she they died.
So she wore her Calm, the mask she could never take off, not even while asleep, because there were ponies who cleaned when she was asleep, and they could never see what she wanted seen.
The face she might not even have anymore, under the mask.
The face of a normal pony. One with joys. And sorrows. And boredom. And hope.
The face that would devastate any pony who looked at it.
She was stuck with no way out.
The door opened.
“Luna.”
“Celestia.”
It was all very cordial. Very polite. Fake. Just like the ponies in her court. Just like the face she couldn’t drop.
“I have received word from the dragonlands. A team of Legionnaires was on a scouting mission. They found an old dragon who compelled two of them with a geas to return to us and make sure his message was delivered.”
Celestia tossed the scroll. Luna caught it and unrolled the parchment, eyes moving as she scanned the lines.
“The dragons have a plan to stop the war. The Princesses must not use their abilities.”
She looked up. “The word ‘abilities’ is underlined.”
“They know. At least some of them. The older ones, the ones with the ability to place such a geas,” Celestia said.
“Then…” Luna trembled. Her room was empty aside from her bed and nightstand. She had little need for such things. Her world was in the dream realm. More now than before.
“We have an out,” Celestia whispered.
Luna approached her, face wet. They embraced. And for the first time in years, the green faded completely from her eyes.
Have to have to have to
Can’t
Have to have to have to
Can’t
Luna settled into the dream realm as the endless chant repeated in her head. Something had escaped. It was eating her mind.
She had told no one, for there was nothing anypony could do. They might comfort her or lock her in a cell, it made no different.
The monster was still there.
She sank into her dreams, into the shielded sanctum that represented her innermost self. Transparent obsidian walls surrounded a room that resembled the one she used in the castle. There was a mirror image of herself in it, along with Celestia. Both were younger. Much younger. There were other figures, too, but not as solid. Not one approached the clarity of either sister. And in the crowd was a negative space. Luna could find it, if she wanted. It was a face never known. An identity constantly guessed at, but never revealed.
Celestia’s memories were sealed to her. They burned.
It wasn’t her sister’s fault. But it was hard to keep from hating her for it.
The monster prowled around the room. It had gotten through the first three layers of defenses. It could influence her even while she was awake, now. But it could only exaggerate, not twist.
This would be their final battle.
Luna left her sanctum, opening a hole in the obsidian as she departed. She was across from the monster. It couldn’t get in before she sealed it.
It didn’t.
The other nightmare scampered through, an old fear she’d almost forgotten.
She couldn’t stop it.
Only scream.
“They have to die.”
The voice was solid. Unyielding, but brittle. If pushed, she would break, and then…
Celestia had moved the Elements, putting them within easy reach, just in case. They weren’t that powerful, but they sped up the casting of more difficult spells. If it came to a fight…
But it wouldn’t.
“Why?” Celestia asked.
“They have not stopped.”
“But the plan! They have a—”
“The plan has failed.”
They walked past another guard post. Another pegasus. More and more of the thestrals were resigning. Too much pressure from the pegasi. Too many uncertain glances at Luna as they began to question their own loyalties.
Luna didn’t seem to care anymore. It would have cut deep, if Luna was still her sister.
Celestia closed her eyes. Breathed. Opened them.
She had no choice.
“If they reach the Greater Provinces…”
“Yes?” Luna was so cold now.
“Then I will deal with them myself. Personally.”
Celestia felt a part of her conscience scream and die. The part of her that could feel became just a little more numb, a little more willing to give in.
Luna nodded, eyes flaring with green energy. “Acceptable.”
It isn’t. It really isn’t.
They continued walking. Celestia did not voice her concerns.
The dragons were relentless. They pushed and they pushed and they pushed and they only gave ground inch by bloody inch.
Red Wind knew the type.
She was the same.
Her cutie mark had appeared during her first kill. She’d been lying in wait, ready to ambush any intruders.
They said pegasi weren’t supposed to be able to channel that way. To make the air so hard it cut, so thin it bit. She could. She did. Ponies were scared of her. Some dragons were too, before she killed them.
“‘Nother one comin’ from the east. You wanna take this too?” Green Guile said, handing her the binoculars. They were new gadgets, just invented by unicorns before this whole war thing.
Very useful.
She scanned the horizon, picking out a small shape, along with two more dots flanking it.
Easy.
“There are three. And yes.”
Green hesitated. “Uh, you mean—”
“Yes.”
“Alright.”
Red Wind gave him the binoculars, curling her the air around it as she swept her wing toward him. He jumped back, startled, as he saw the object seemingly floating without a levitation field. It was hard, and it would be simpler to just carry it with her wing. But this reminded everypony that she had the power.
“The...pits are ready.” Another voice. Older, but disgusted. An orange pegasus with a yellow cutie mark. Firemark.
Get close. Roll. Bring a wing up to his neck. Back away before the blood hits—
“Good. They’ll be here soon,” Green said.
Red Wind was still. If she was still, she wasn’t moving. And if she wasn’t moving, a single urged twitch couldn’t turn a stumble into a death.
It wouldn’t be hers, though. It never let her die.
Not that she wanted to.
She made things fast. Everypony around her moved dozens of times faster than normal. It helped. Overwhelmed the voice.
The dragons grew closer. They would help, for a while.
But it always needed more. More and more and more. Wingstroke by bloody wingstroke, she was slowly but surely making herself a river of blood to wade in.
It’s your fault, Celestia, she thought.
If Celestia had given her cutie mark to her earlier, she wouldn’t be doing this. If she had a different cutie mark, she wouldn’t be doing this.
She had morals. And she ought to be offended by what she was doing. So she was. She still liked it, though.
A yank pulled her back into normal time. She restrained the urge to—
kill kill Kill KILL KILL
—and looked at the owner of the rude hoof.
“Firemark. Where’re the dragons?” she said.
He pointed. She looked up.
They stared back down.
“Make sure you clean the pits after.”
A dragon lunged. Blue scales. Red eyes. A whisper. Vein in his neck. A quick wingstroke, and he was dead before he hit the ground.
The other two drew back, wary. Smaller yellow ones. Also had red eyes. One danced sideways, the other down. She was dead in less than a second. Wingfield through the skull.
The other was able to get three wingbeats away before she died. Falling was lethal when your wings were suddenly not part of you anymore.
Red Wind studied the bodies. She’d been too aggressive with the last one. Lots of blood went through a dragon's wings. That one was practically useless. The other two were in better shape. She told Green and Firemark their locations, then settled into a comfortable position, making everything around her fast again.
Killing made her tired.
The world was ending around her, but Zinc Cloud had a mission.
Her spell detected a mixture of traces in the air, memories in the ground, and alerted her. She nudged the ball of deep red light back to her side, where it joined a multitude of other rotating orbs.
The ground was bare underhoof. Dead. Scorched plant matter crinkled in places the flames had just barely licked. The scent of burnt everything was so prevalent she’d had to cast a spell just to filter the air in front of her face.
Dragons had been here, but not in force. A small group. They’d scented something.
The spell alerted her again, turning a light magenta.
Ponies. And not many. Less than a hundred.
Zinc Cloud trotted across scorched earth, an insultingly-blue sky supporting the cheerful sun above her.
The sky should be on fire.
She squinted. There was a settlement ahead. Some of the buildings were burnt, some smashed, but most of them weren’t in too bad a condition.
The dragons.
They never left any sign of pony habitation that wasn’t scorched to a crisp. She still had time.
Some of the path was without any signs of life, and some had vines and other vegetation creeping up to the middle, a patchwork of life and death. The houses had no windows, though shards of glass surrounded the areas where they would have been. Heavy walls of thick wood were blackened and burnt in places, but the heat hadn’t been sustained enough to start a blaze.
What happened here?
Had the ponies living here tried to burn down their own homes and then just...left?
A sound. Wards sprang up around her, multiple layers of shields that might even stand up to a dragon for a few seconds, just like enough layers of wrappers might temporarily shield a sweet from a hungry foal.
Zinc Cloud turned around and faced a green earth pony
A scout? Or an opportunist?
“What’s the situation here?” she said.
“Dragons. S’always dragons. There’s just three of us here.”
Zinc nodded. Only three. Manageable. Thought what they were doing here, on their own… She shook her head. There were things best that were best left unthought about. “There are dragons headed in this direction. I’m tasked with evacuating any refugees. Bring me to the other two and I can teleport you to the Everfree castle.”
He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “That’s nice and all, but we don’t need any teleports. So thanks, but…”
Something was off.
“What did you do?” she said, taking a step toward him. His eyes flicked to the side in a quick motion she nearly didn’t catch.
There was another pony, completely still, coated in dried blood.. A pegasus. Zinc Cloud pranced back, just barely keeping herself from flinging a shard of ice at her.
She wasn’t drenched in blood, as Zinc’s first glance had told her. Just...really, really red. And her cutie mark…the spinning razor was drenched in what somepony might be able to fool themselves was ketchup. Might.
The pegasus smiled, white teeth contrasting red everything. “Hello.”
Zinc had never seen red eyes on a pony before.
“I’m Red Wind. You?” the pegasus said, prowling toward her.
She got her mouth unstuck. “Zinc Cloud. I’m with Royal Legion, evacuating anypony I can.” She couldn’t do anything about the dryness of her mouth, though. This pony…
The smile widened. It belonged on a shark. “Keep doing your thing, then. We’re...nice.”
“I…” She wanted to. Oh how she wanted to. But she had her mission. “I...can’t. I need to evacuate everypony not in a stable zone. And this place does not look stable.”
“It is.”
“I can’t just—”
“Come.”
Red Wind turned around and stalked into the town. Zinc Cloud shivered. She had no illusions that she out of the other pony’s sight. Some ponies had another sense, one that didn’t close with their eyes.
She forced herself to follow the pegasus, forced herself to look at her as they walked.
Red Wind looked...young. Barely older than a filly. Her—bloody—strange appearance made her look older. Not in a natural way, though. Older in the way of a carnivore with the blood of a first kill dripping from its fangs.
She stopped at the edge of a giant pit in the ground, at the bottom of which was something...red.
“See? Stable.”
No no no no nonononono
“G-how?” Zinc Cloud got out.
“Those are dragons! Three I killed just this morning. And guess what?”
“...”
“They have magic! After they dissolve in the pits, we can use their hearts for everything! They have a lot of magic.”
“I...I don’t…”
“Here, I’ll give you a demonstration.”
A saddlebag colored the same shade of red as the pegasus—red? No. don’t think about—opened. Out floated a chunk of glimmering red crystal.
Without a levitation field.
Floated.
“Try it,” Red Wind suggested.
This was a dream. Yes. It was the only possibility left.
Zinc Cloud picked it up in her own field, prodding at the reservoir of magic inside with unnatural calmness.
“I see,” she said, then floated the—bloody—gemstone back in the pegasus’s saddlebags. “Good work.” As if inspecting a recruit’s gear.
Red Wind beamed with pride, reinforcing the image.
“Your arrangements are suitable for the time being.” Zinc Cloud brought a map out of her own bags. “I’m needed at the next zone. This has been—” horrifying “—enlightening.”
“But there are...guards,” the messenger continued, lashing her tail. The two armored stallions beside the throne frowned at the display of emotion. Celestia waited.
“It’s the Royal Legionnaires. From the aerial corps. A squad dropped down beside the artifact, which was being carted by some mare, and then just...helped. Anypony else who gets to close joins in.”
Celestia rose from her throne, not showing a speck of any emotion other than her Calm. “Thank you. I will be there as soon as I can.”
The messenger stayed where she was. Her eyes darted between Celestia and the entrance she’d come from, and her wings started fidgeting with the saddlebags on her back. She was much younger than the ones who usually gave Celestia updates.
“You may go,” Celestia said, a faint note of amusement escaping.
Then the worries crashed back down on her head, a massive wave from an ocean she couldn’t escape.
She’s too young.
The thought stuck with her as she watched the mare—almost a filly, really—leave. She jumped into the air, then seemed to remember where she was and dropped back to the floor, trotting at a flustered pace. She stumbled as she rounded a corner, leaving a blue feather behind.
“Arrange a chariot,” Celestia said suddenly, breaking the silence that had stolen into the throne room.
“Yes Princess,” the unicorn on the right said. He left at a dignified trot, as if to underscore his disdain with the messenger’s conduct. Her guards would never show their displeasure in any more active ways, of course.
Well…
Unless it was with the thestrals. Fights had broken out all over the castle between Celestia and Luna’s guards. It was dying down now, but only because there were barely any thestrals left. Some were gone because of the fighting, others because they sensed Luna’s coldness, and a small fraction because they distrusted Celestia.
As well they should.
Just yesterday she had agreed on a course of action she never would have allowed if her sister wasn’t...whatever she was. But she had no choice. Her method would take less lives overall.
You swore you would never gamble with lives. You swore you would never again measure them, never again treat them as numbers.
She shoved the thought away. Maybe she should have kept it. But she needed her sanity.
“Princess. Your chariot is here.”
Land passed beneath the chariot, whizzing by at a speed unknown to anypony without wings.
It still wasn’t fast enough.
The Lesser Provinces had fallen mere days ago, and some of the fires were still going. Celestia couldn’t turn away. They found her, invaded her mind, seared themselves into her memory.
Farmland burned to ashes, scorched completely black. A scar the land would bear for a long, long time.
Towns in pieces or on fire, some with ponies trying to rebuild. Occupied with the present, filled with concern for their homes, for their livelihoods. Unaware or uncaring that the next wave of fire would fall upon them before they could succeed.
She was too high for the scents to reach her, too fast for the sounds to be heard. It was a relief, and it was wrong. She should be down there. Not in the sky above it all.
And then they landed.
The pegasi kicked up dust when they touched down, and unhitched themselves from the chariot. They spread out, one on each side of Celestia. She brought her hooves down on bare, dry earth.
Less than a mile away was a group of ponies bearing the armor of her Legionnaires, pulling a flat cart with a statue lashed to it, arrayed in a defensive formation.
Celestia stepped toward them. They saw her.
A single earth pony broke away from the group while the rest bunched up defensively against the cart.
She neared Celestia. The guards raised their spears.
Her eyes were the pure, radiant white of the sun.
She said something. They said something.
Celestia nodded to herself. She should join them. Help them. That’s all they wanted. Somepony to help, to guide them. Somepony to…
Wait...
They retreated. She was herself. She reeled back, spinning a teleport about herself, but she was too late, they said—
She should join them. Help them. That’s all they wanted. Somepony to help, to guide them. Somepony to share their burden. It was perfect.
It was wrong.
It was perfect.
It—
She blinked. Stumbled away.
Everything was fuzzy. Blurry. Shaky. Moving.
They said something.
The world shook.
“No…” she said. They frowned. She could feel it. They said something else. She shook her head.
She had no experience with mind magic. But Luna did, and she’d given Celestia a shield. Back when she was herself. It seemed to be holding, if barely.
“What do you want?” Celestia got out.
The pony paused. Spoke again. This time it had meaning. Communication.
If you won’t help, then leave.
“No.” Celestia shook her head. The voices stabbed at her thoughts like knives, a horrible corruption that killed ideas. Even with Luna’s protections, with enough time she’d change.
The only options were to stop whatever curse Discord had on them, or return to Luna and hope she could fix it. And Luna was...distant. Celestia trusted her completely, of course, but—
Do I?
She had trusted her completely. And until recently, Luna had done everything to deserve that trust. And Celestia had just…failed to update her beliefs, leaving herself in a strange space.
I...don’t.
The past years crashed down on her all at once. Celestia stood firm, outwardly betraying nothing of her thoughts. But inside, she...cracked. Fell to her knees. Cried.
Luna wasn’t trustworthy.
She shoved the thought aside, consciously shouldered another burden, one she had never thought she’d have to bear.
“This ends now.” Celestia drew on her magic, the magic of the sun. It swirled inside her, lighting the bare earth on fire. The earth pony drew back, white, blank eyes narrowed.
Celestia was not skilled with mental magic. Or any magic at all, really, aside from a few utility and combat spells boosted with the strength of the sun. And the spells that her position granted.
She dragged the magic out through her horn, creating a ball of sun. It was light, but it wasn’t just light, wasn’t just heat. It was a part of her very soul, a cleansing fire.
The sun purifies.
She it toward the pony in front of her, who scrambled back, ears flat against her head. The voices emerged, ideas of panic and fight and flee that blended together in Celestia’s head, sending spikes of foreign emotion through her.
Then the fire reached the pony, and the pony fell sideways, unconscious.
And this time Celestia did slump to the ground, the voices of dozens of dying souls crying out in the moment before their extinction.
They were real ponies, once. Preserved somehow. I...Discord…
Discord. He’d stolen dozens—
Hundreds, she thought, gazing at the possessed ponies surrounding Discord’s statue.
—hundreds of souls, hundreds of the constructs that kept ponies from truly vanishing after their deaths, and corrupted them. And for what? So they could free him and then be abandoned, just like the rest of his creations?
Celestia rose, surveying the ponies with a gaze of Steel.
She would have to destroy them. She wasn’t Luna. She couldn’t expel them, and even if she could...what would stop them from possessing more innocent ponies, ponies with their entire lives ahead of them? Ponies who would essentially stop living, forced to the back of a multitude.
It is necessary.
Her expression hardened. Maybe it was. Maybe the new pony that had taken her sister’s place was right in this regard, at least.
