Ceremony of Remembrance
Princess Celestia stared out across the countryside as her carriage flew through the skies. Concentric rings of cloud radiated outwards from Canterlot as far as the eye could see, symbolizing the capital as the lynchpin of the nation, the bedrock that united them all. They had long passed the crowds gathering in the streets for impromptu events, and the hordes of ponies visiting the graveyards to pay their respects. Today was a day of mourning, of remembrance, and of respect. It was always a somber day, but this one was worse than usual.
The carriage tilted forward as they began their descent, and Celestia's heart quickened. It was almost time, and she still wasn't ready. She never would be. Nopony could be ready to deliver this kind of news. She hated delivering news. It was never good news if she had to deliver it personally.
Her entourage settled on a dirt road outside of a simple cottage on the outskirts of town. Celestia took a deep breath and tried to work the jitters out of her voice. She had done this many, many times. So many times she had lost count a thousand lifetimes ago, but it never got any easier. No amount of practice or experience could calm her heart as it beat against her chest. The carriage door opened and she stepped out, cold dirt crunching beneath her golden horseshoes. She wished this was just a dream, a nightmare she could wake up from, but it never was.
If only Luna were here.
Celestia walked forward, stepping onto the cobblestone path that led to the front door. They didn't have much in the way of neighbors, but a few ponies that happened to be passing by started whispering among themselves. Nopony wanted the Princess to visit them with a white-hooded soldier at her side. The Princess wouldn’t either.
She stopped in front of the entrance and sat on her haunches before raising a hoof to the doorframe. For the briefest of moments, too quickly for anypony to notice, she hesitated, but a thousand years of discipline forced her hoof forward, and she rapped on the wooden door. One, two, three, four times. Always four knocks, no more, no less.
A middle-aged mare opened the door. She saw Celestia first, but as her gaze traveled downward towards Celestia's companion, her ears went flat against her head and she took a small step backwards. She already knew what this was about.
"Is this the residence of Miss Pumpernickel and Mr. Victual?" asked the Princess.
The mare stared at her in disbelief. Heavens above, her eyes were already watering. Celestia was suddenly grateful she had so much practice keeping a neutral expression.
"Honeyyyyyyyyy," the mare called back into the house, "the Princess is here!"
An older stallion trotted towards the front door. "What's going—Oh no." He sat down beside his wife and wrapped his hooves around her.
"Y-yes, I'm Miss P-Pumpernickel and this is my h-husband." Miss Pumpernickel sniffed and looked up at Celestia.
"It is my solemn duty to inform you that your son was killed in action yesterday while patrolling the Badlands, at oh three hundred hours on April third, 628.”
The couple gasped, but Celestia continued unabated. “They were ambushed by three adolescent dragons in the middle of the night, and several soldiers were incapacitated. The rest of their squad pushed them back long enough to begin evacuation of the wounded, but during the retreat your son was injured. He chose by his own free will to hold off the dragons to allow his fellow soldiers time to escape. He succeeded in slaying one of the dragons before he perished, which persuaded the others to cease their pursuit. Your son's sacrifice saved countless lives and he will be posthumously awarded the Solar Cross, our nation's highest military honor, to commemorate his actions. As Imperator of the Equestrian Army, I extend to you my deepest sympathy in your great loss."
The poor mare had already started sobbing into her hooves before Celestia had finished, and her husband held her tightly, tears pouring down his cheeks. Nevertheless, Celestia continued the ritual, magically removing her crown and placing it in front of her hooves as she bowed her head in deference to the grieving couple.
After taking a minute to steel herself for what came next, she spoke up. "May I come in?"
"O-of course," choked out Miss Pumpernickel, who led them inside.
Celestia left her crown at the door, being careful to avoid hitting the ceiling. She turned around and gestured towards the lone pegasus soldier still sitting on the cobblestone path. "This is Water Ripple. She was the last one to speak to your son before he died. If it's alright with you, she would like to join us."
Miss Pumpernickel nodded. "Of course! P-please, come in."
They gathered in the living room, and Miss Pumpernickel put some tea on the stove. Long ago, Celestia tried to make the tea herself, until one of her advisors pointed out that making tea was just as much a coping mechanism for her little ponies as it was for her. As they waited for the water to boil, Water Ripple introduced herself.
"I was sleeping near your son when the guards shouted a warning. We had only a few moments before they attacked the other side of camp, injuring several soldiers. We both joined the guards to drive the dragons back, and your son was one of our best. Together we delayed them long enough for our medic to stabilize our wounded."
Her gaze fell towards the ground, and Celestia focused very hard on the intricate patterns engraved on the teacup in front of her. "I was called back to help evacuate our crippled squadmates towards the forest. Our soldiers were brave, but without half the squad they couldn’t hold them back for long. I was laying down the last of our wounded when I heard the retreat, and flew back as quickly as I could…"
Her voice hitched, and Celestia could already tell she was struggling to continue. Just this morning she had insisted on coming, saying she had a duty to fulfill, but nopony could simply bury their emotions. It was something Celestia knew all too well as she laid a slightly trembling wing across Water Ripple’s back.
"B-b-but just as I returned, one of the dragons slashed him. I rejoined the fight to try to hold them off, but with his injury, we were outmatched. M-maybe if I had j-just gotten there sooner I could have—"
"Shhhhh, it’s okay," Celestia assured her, gently stroking her mane. The entire squad had been second-guessing themselves since yesterday. They weren’t the only ones.
Water Ripple swallowed and continued. "He told us to leave him. We didn’t, but then he motioned towards the injured one, and I knew… it was our only way out. The dragons were right on top of us and we wouldn’t be able to get away safely without a distraction. I’ll never forget when he looked at me. He was s-so s-scared. He t-told me, ‘Remember what I said,’ before he l-lunged at them."
Water Ripple finally broke down, sobbing quietly as the teapot began to whistle. Celestia focused on comforting her soldier, resisting the urge to get the tea herself. A moment later, Miss Pumpernickel wiped her eyes and went to fetch the tea. Celestia pondered if her gentle strokes of Water Ripple’s mane were really to comfort the soldier, or herself. Mr. Victual put some napkins on the table, probably just as eager to find a distraction as the rest of them. Miss Pumpernickel returned with the tea and filled their teacups. Celestia watched the steam rise, curling up towards the sky before vanishing. Such a brief, tenuous thing, like the lives of her little ponies.
Blowing on her teacup and recovering from her momentary breakdown, Water Ripple continued. "A few days earlier, we had been assigned to the same guard duty together, and he asked me if I was scared of dying. He said he was, but he was also scared of what might happen to his parents. He told me that if anything happened to him, he wanted you to know… he loves you, and he’s really, really sorry he didn’t keep his promise."
She fell silent, and the room was filled with quiet whimpers from the grieving ponies. It was a sound Celestia was all too familiar with. It was a sound that hadn’t changed for thousands of years. Through all the wars and treaties and mistakes of the past, the pain of losing loved ones had remained a cold, unflinching truth.
Eventually, Celestia knew she had to break the silence. "I want you two to know that what your son did was one of the most courageous things anypony can do. I say this not because he was fearless, but because he was terrified. Faced with death, he acted in spite of his fear, and saved an entire squadron." She took another sip of her tea. "Please, If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I know how difficult this must be for you."
Mr. Victual coughed. "I, uh, I was just wondering how our son managed to kill a dragon by himself. Why couldn’t half a squad?"
Briefly, Celestia was prepared to explain, but then Water Ripple sighed. "Dragon scales are notoriously difficult to penetrate, so we focus our attacks on a few weak points. We had succeeded in injuring one of the dragons, but we couldn't get close enough to finish it off safely. Any one of us could have struck the killing blow, but it requires plunging a sword deep into an existing injury and would have meant certain death. We did not have sufficient numbers to drive them apart, or we might have been able to pick them off one by one. Your son chose to be the one who didn't return, so the rest of us could."
"Was it… was it quick?" asked Miss Pumpernickel, glancing at her husband.
The soldier gave her a sad smile. "I'm sorry, we don't actually know what happened, we only know he didn't stop swinging his sword until he stopped moving. Normally, we'd find out at the coronary, but..."
"Dragons do not take kindly to any creature that manages to slay one of their warriors," continued Celestia. "They usually throw the bodies into the fires of Mount Vereor. We did send a strike team to his last reported location this morning, but they could not find his remains. Your son will instead be given a gravestone at the Tomb of the Fallen, where he will be honored alongside our nation's greatest warriors for his selfless act and courage in the face of death."
She leaned forward. The timing might be unfortunate, but she had already decided it was worth extending an invitation. "Relatives of anypony interred in the Tomb of the Fallen are invited to Canterlot to take part in the Ceremony of Remembrance. Today happens to be the day of the ceremony, if you’d like to… pay your respects. Or you could wait until we can craft a proper tombstone. Despite the unfortunate timing, we won’t be releasing his name to give you time to inform anypony else who should know. Either way, the expenses will be taken care of. This nation owes you a debt that can never be fully repaid, and for that I apologize."
The dead soldier’s parents nodded, and the room fell silent once again.
It was past noon by the time Celestia returned to her quarters. Reporting a pony’s death to their parents was one of her least favorite things to do, on par with being thrown in Tartarus for a month. She spent half the time fretting over which details to leave out, and the other half wondering if she could have prevented it. Technically, as the Princess and Imperator of the Equestrian military, everything was her fault. She was the immortal sun, who stood above all others, with no higher power for her to appeal to. She was the higher power ponies appealed to.
But she still made mistakes.
She flopped backwards onto her bed of silk, woven out of the best clouds the pegasi could make and endowed with so many enchantments it could probably be considered a legendary magical artifact. The day was barely half over, and she still had another five memorial services to attend, including the sacred Ceremony of Remembrance at the Tomb of the Fallen. Certainly not a day she had wanted to spend telling a parent their child had died.
She did not always deliver the news. In times of war, thousands of ponies could die in a single day, and she was needed on the front lines. But in times of peace, deaths were rare, and she always preferred to be the bearer of bad news. She deserved it.
This is my fault, she thought bitterly, imagining endless rows of tombstones behind the Tomb of the Fallen. I killed him. I killed them all.
"...Would you like me to clear your schedule for today, Princess?" Feather Quill had once again managed to arrive at her chamber door without making a sound. Celestia briefly considered promoting her secretary to head of infiltration.
"It’s nothing," dismissed the Princess. "What’s next on the list?"
"Are you sure?" asked Feather Quill, trotting towards her. "You look like you could use a break."
Celestia rolled off her bed and stood up, floating her crown back on top of her head and smiling. "I’m fine, really."
"You are not 'fine', Princess. You can't hide your feelings from me," scolded Feather Quill. "I've always been able to see past that smile of yours."
Her smile faltered. "...Always?"
Feather Quill huffed. "I'd be a pretty bad secretary if I couldn't work the Princess' mood into the schedule. What is it this time?"
Looking out towards her garden, Celestia sighed. "Another dead earth pony. It's always a pegasus or an earth pony. If only more unicorns signed up for the army, a magical shield would have given our soldiers the cover they needed to strike them down without being too bulky. As it stands, we can only kill them when they are outnumbered, or by another innocent pony making a noble sacrifice. Our arrowheads simply can’t pierce dragonscale. They were near the dangerous part of the badlands, too. If I had just reassigned a unicorn to his squad, maybe—"
Celestia abruptly found herself on the receiving end of a hug.
"We love you, Princess. We know you aren't perfect, but we know you always try your best, and that's all we ask of you. That's all we should ask of anypony."
Celestia smiled, and she returned the embrace, holding Feather Quill tightly. Perhaps she would get through today after all.
It was time.
Princess Celestia stood before a great monument, a solid chunk of limestone carved from bedrock a thousand years ago by her greatest sculptors. Upon its beveled face stood a panel bordered by magnificently rendered stone ponies. The panel contained a single inscription, written first in Old Eoch and then in their modern tongue.
TIU ESTAS
FALA SOLDIERO
KI KIU OBLAS
ĈIUJ
HERE LIES
A FALLEN SOLDIER
TO WHOM WE OWE
EVERYTHING
Her horn glowed with a faint golden aura as the sun descended towards the horizon. The changing of the guard had begun. Three ponies, one unicorn, one earth pony, and one pegasus, stood at attention in front of the monument, each holding their race’s sacred weapon. A sword for the earth ponies. A spear for the pegasi. A rapier for the unicorns.
Their replacements marched down the stone path in perfect unison, stopping in front of their counterparts. One by one, each performed an intricate weapon inspection with military precision. Every move was measured and deliberate. Every motion was made for a reason.
The inspections finished, their replacements saluted as the relieved guards marched back down the stone path, hooves beating against the ground in perfect synchronicity. Their replacements turned around and took their positions. A pegasus in the center. An earth pony to the left. A unicorn to the right. A flourish of weapons. Another salute.
Silence.
The shadows grew longer as the sun descended, the ball of fire hovering just slightly above the distant shores, nested within a deep valley between two mountains that reached to the distant ocean. Not a word was spoken as Celestia moved her sacred charge towards the border between earth and sky.
At that moment, as the sun's orange disc touched the edge of the horizon, time stopped. Clocks across Equestria were turned off. Shadows stopped moving. The sun hovered in the sky, motionless. For four minutes, the heavens themselves stood still to honor the soldiers who had given their lives to protect Equestria. Every pegasus stopped flying. Every unicorn put down whatever they were holding with their magic. Every earth pony stopped mixing potions or tending crops. Carriages stopped in the middle of the streets, diners stopped cooking food, little fillies and colts got off their swingsets to watch the sun hover motionless above the horizon. Every pony of every race and every age and every creed stood across the entire continent, bowing their heads in silent reverence to those who had died for their freedom.
Then, without a fuss, the sun began to move. Clocks were turned on, carriages began to move, and restaurants took orders again. The tens of thousands of ponies gathered at the monument, however, stayed silent, for Celestia had begun to speak.
"This great nation was built on a foundation of friendship, forging an unbreakable bond between three tribes. Earth, Sky, and Magic. Together, we have carved colossal cities out of stone and steel, crafted magnificent works of art and defeated all who tried to strike us down. But we have paid with our blood, and the ground I stand upon is consecrated by a hundred thousand noble souls who put their country above themselves. They, and they alone, have given everything so that we might live in peace. Their bravery and valor places them above all others, and they will be remembered for as long as the sun shines upon us."
"Do you forgive me?" she whispered, too quietly for anypony to hear.
Only rustling leaves answered, as the last rays of twilight vanished beneath the distant hills. The ritual complete, Celestia turned around and walked along the stone path, worn by the hooves of so many bereaved ponies. She walked beneath the great archway that marked the entrance, and out into the park beyond. Casting her gaze upwards, she began to raise the moon, as she had done so many times before. Few knew for whom she was mourning, but all respected her and kept their distance as she sat in the glow of the full moon, watching it rise into the heavens.
I forgive you, sister.