Prologue: Shattered Sun
Prince Highblood was speaking before the throne, but his words held no meaning--they barely even registered to the white furred ears that struggled to hold their attentive, forward pricked appearance. He could have been waxing poetic on foreign affairs, budget concerns, his personal opinion of her, or even a lost cake recipe, and Celestia would have had the same complete lack of care and interest in any of it. She just couldn’t, not today. Her heart lay cracked in her breast, the pain of it seeping into her veins and making the regalia she wore feel more like a great stone around her neck than the mantle of leadership and royalty. Her dearest Little Sun, the foal of her heart, if not her body, the little light that made the endless parade of duty that weighed down on her shoulders like a mountain so much more bearable, was gone. It was that duty that constrained her, invisible shackles that kept her in place when she would rather be anywhere else.
Her eyes took a moment to scan the assemblage in the hall, nobles and common petitioners alike, all waiting for their chance at her attention. None of them knew her beyond the façade, beyond the public perception of a solar goddess and ruler of the kingdom, or as their monarch that worked to balance the needs of her little ponies against the more selfish aims of the aristocracy. She wondered, not for the first time, if any of them would even want to know her for herself, or if their desire for the attention of the Goddess of the Sun, the immortal ruler of their kingdom, would leave them disappointed with the mare who lived behind the mask? To them, was she even a pony still? Did they even notice that she had emotions, or did they believe the mask to be the extent of her ability to feel? How many of them even realized the absence of her Little Sun? How many of them would care that their monarch was grieving? How many of them would be delighted instead of saddened, see the loss of her foal, her student as an opportunity instead, to try and put forth one of their own offspring in the young mare’s stead. She could already see it in the eyes of some of the courtier’s; calculated avarice as they pondered how to turn the low murmur of gossip among the palace servants to their own good fortune.
From the pain rose fury, and her connection to the solar body in the heavens thrummed with power, a cord of sunshine and warmth becoming a firestorm twisted into a thick cable, warming the golden regalia that hung around her neck to a temperature that would have seared the flesh of any other pony. She gripped the fire with a Will earned from millennia of effort, a war she refused to lose, even in her weakest moments, but ever so briefly, she entertained the thought of unleashing her rage upon the room, of blasting them all away from her personage with a hurricane force gust of burning air generated by her wings and her magic. Instead, she found herself standing, interrupting the white furred unicorn’s long winded ramble by her movement alone. Her eyes narrowed fractionally, and her muzzle twitched at the edges, never quite pulling into a frown, but not curved into the enigmatic smile she used so often to placate those she spoke with.
Not a soul in the hall spoke, sycophantic smiles appearing on meticulously groomed muzzles as they waited with bated breath for whatever decree their princess of the sun would utter as if it were the most important thing in the world. It made her stomach twist with an emotion she actually had to pause and consider in order to identify it: disgust.
“I am deeply sorry, my little ponies,” she spoke at last, wincing internally at how her normally well controlled voice wavered, the hints of hurt and anger leaking into it to her own ears. It was far kinder than the words she wanted to say to them. “I am afraid that I must end Day Court early today and attend to an important matter.” She let her gaze settle on Highblood and his traditionalist companion, Neighsay. “I am doubly sorry to have to interrupt your proposal, gentle-stallions, but if you’d like, you can leave the written version with Secretary Inkwell and I will happily read over it as soon as I am able. Otherwise, we can reschedule for another day.”
A subtle twitch of one feathered wing, and her royal guard was gently ushering ponies out of her throne room. Captain Halberd snapped a crisp salute with one wing. “Highness,” he rumbled with his thick, gruff voice, all business and decorum, but she could see the empathy in his dark eyes. “We have this under control, if you have other business to attend to.” It was the old stallion’s way of telling her to take her time, to do what she needed to do for herself. He, at least, could see...but he had been one of so very few in the palace who cared about Sunset Shimmer. After all, he’d been flying with her on that day, so long ago…
Magic flared across her senses like an explosion in her ears, and the alicorn practically fell out of the chariot with a cry of pain and surprise. Her guards immediately gave pause, halting the vehicle’s progression through the sky. “Highness? What is it?” a young pegasus asked, looking around for some sign of attack. Even as he did, he had positioned himself to defend the princess, close enough that he could intercept a blow meant for his monarch. A twitch of his wing sent the rest of the guards fanning out, forming a protective circle.
“I’m afraid I don’t know…” Her eyes scanned the area around the capital.
Magic echoed again, and this time, she saw a thin tendril of smoke coming from the forest about halfway down the mountain. Without a word, she leapt from the chariot, free falling to gain speed, and snapping her wings out at the right moment to arc towards the disturbance, her ears all too soon picking up a sound that brought long buried instincts and primal fears to the surface: the squealing cries of a terrified foal...
She barely recalled leaving the throne room, or the conversation with Raven after, the mare quick to send her on her way with a sad sort of understanding in her eyes and a gentle murmur that she would have tea and cake waiting in the study for when she returned. Celestia fled from that expression, her hoof shoes echoing in a rapid trot on the polished floors, and the Princess of the Sun not paying attention to where she was going...at least, not until she found herself outside a familiar wooden door, its rich wood carved and inlaid with metal to display the fiery eight-rayed sun Cutie that declared its owner’s identity. Her hoofsteps halted there, and her eyes traced that fiery image while they burned from tears she would not allow to fall, not here, not now. Her heart twisted, the hidden joy she’d always had at how alike her Little Sun’s mark had been to her own now turned to agony. Some part of her had always secretly believed that it had been a sign that the little foundling unicorn had always been meant to be her foal, her daughter...a sign from the universe, from magic, from…
“Would you want a colt or a filly, Sunshine?” came the laughing voice, teasing.
“Either would fill me with joy,” she answered, feeling herself truly smile in a way she hadn’t since the loss of her sister.
“I think I’d prefer a filly...a little sun that brightens my life just as much as you do, Sunshine…”
Celestia jerked her mind forcibly away from finishing a thought that would only shatter what control she had left, her attention turning towards the guards that had followed her--older stallions, both close to their retirement, and silently she offered thanks to Captain Halberd for his kindness. “Wait here. I do not wish to be disturbed.”
Celestia barely waited for them to salute before she touched her horn to the door’s handle, golden magic unbinding the powerful locking spell she had secured the room with to guard its contents from anypony that wasn’t her...or the young mare for whom it had been home. A nudge of her hoof swung the portal inward, and she slipped inside, shutting it behind her and reengaging the lock. Another sweep of her horn sent a silencing spell to seal itself to the walls and corners of the room, ensuring that she would have true privacy.
Only then did she let herself crumple, the mask she’d worn for millennia shattering like glass as she broke down sobbing in the middle of the room, surrounded by the life and memories of the daughter she had loved with all her heart, and still somehow managed to fail. The hate twisted visage of her beloved foal--now a beautiful, fiery tempered mare--spewing vitriol at her, those words still stabbed into her every time she closed her eyes.
The amber unicorn rocked back, shifting weight to her hind hooves so she could stamp a forehoof on the stone floor with a ringing sound, her nostrils flaring with fury. “If that’s true,” she bit out, tone filled with accusation and pain, “then why did you even bother to take me as your student? Why keep me here at all, when you could have somepony so much more deserving than me? There are hundreds of unicorns at your school, so much more deserving of your effort than one little useless orphan--why didn’t you pick any of them?”
Orphan--oh, my precious Little Sun, no...you are still mine in my heart, even if you don’t want me to be… It hurt to know that the young mare she had raised never even considered her worth the title of mother...but she had to respect that, no matter how badly it wounded her soul. A ripple passed over her hide as she buried her feelings under a tighter mask, looking instead at the unicorn with a teacher’s disappointment. This arrogance, paired with Sunset’s temper and volatility was threatening a very delicate balance that Celestia had fought to maintain for years, and it had to be rectified before she could no longer protect her precious Little Sun. “Frankly, at this point, I find myself asking the same question, Sunset Shimmer,” she responded curtly, deliberately dropping her ears back to warn the young mare. They weren’t alone, and others were able to hear this argument. Sunset needed to watch her words.
She saw the smaller pony twitch, and her angry face twisting up with mocking and something darker that frightened the alicorn, because the last time she’d seen that expression on a loved one’s face, she’d had to seal her own baby sister into the moon. “Then why did you even bother with me at all, Princess?” Sunset hissed, her words striking the Princess of the Sun like daggers. Even her title sounded like a hateful insult. “Why don’t you just enlighten us useless, lowborn trash with your infinite and immortal wisdom?”
The alicorn wasn't sure which gasp was louder: her own, or the sharp intake of breath from the archivist who had caught Sunset in the restricted section. At the same time, she was amazed she could hear either one over the sound of her heart breaking…
Her heart broke anew at the memories, and there, at last alone, could she give herself leave to grieve, to let the pain and agony that demanded release flow with the onslaught of tears that scalded her muzzle. Was this her destiny? To always be alone, to have the ponies she came to love ripped from her grasp, by darkness, by death, by her hubris and theirs? To be denied the right to feel anywhere but in solitude, because only in that solitude could she be allowed to feel, to rail against the uncaring cosmos that gave her all of the things she never asked for yet denied her the one thing she wanted above all else?
Why was it that only here, amid the foalhood treasures of her darling, precious Little Sun, that she could say what her heart had ached to express for so long, clutching a forgotten pillow to her chest as a poor substitute for the foal that was beyond her reach.
“...my Little Sun...why? It is not worth it...none of it is. This crown, these wings that shackle me to a duty I never desired, an eternity I never asked for...all they have given me is suffering, a responsibility to tend and millions of lives who care not one whit for me.” She buried her muzzle in the pillow, soaking it with her tears. “...I wanted you to have a life of joy that I never could, free from the chains that choke me everyday…you were my one bright treasure in a miserable parade of endless centuries…”
Bright blue-green eyes filled with mischief and trust, peeking out from under her wing, even as her mouth was full of feathers, sucking on them as only an infant could with their gummy mouths, and the memory of laughter echoed in her ears...
“...You were my solace, and I could not even get that right. Did I somehow curse you, by loving you so much? I must have…”
The filly giggled. “I did it!” The feather floated in the air on turquoise magic, a first for the little foal with too much magic for a body so small.
“...you were so beautiful, from the moment I first laid eyes on you...so innocent and scared, but so brave even for one so young...I always thought of you as a gift, the greatest one I’ve ever been given…”
The little foal squealed, surrounded by flames, her stubby horn sparking dangerously each time the firebirds swooped at her...She was terrified, but even as a near newborn, she was defiant…
“I’m so sorry, beyond any words I can find, that I failed that trust...failed you, my precious, beloved daughter, my dearest and only Little Sun…” Words failed just as utterly as Celestia herself had, and she fell apart, sobbing her heartache on the uncaring floor, silently begging the universe for another chance...for time to rewind, seasons to reverse, all to grant her just one, single, blessed moment in which to tell Sunset Shimmer just how much she had truly meant to the broken-hearted Goddess of the Sun…
But the universe offered no comfort, and returned her pleas with cold and unyielding, uncaring silence...a silence she cursed as much as she did herself...for what use was there in being a goddess when even your prayers went unanswered?