The sky was on fire, but then it wasn't. One blink; it could change in an instant, or it could take thousands. They say it was different, once.
There were no records. There was nopony left to say. There was no way to tell how long it had been since Chaos had taken the throne.
The sun set by His whim. The moon rose at His leisure. The earth itself could upturn in a second and transform into a swarm of bees; only if the bees weren't made of chocolate or the ground hadn't been upside down in the first place.
It could always be worse. The bees could explode, and sometimes they did.
That was only the world outside, though. That was only what lay outside of the safe, quiet forest where they lived.
But why would Celestia and Luna know about any of that, when their parents wouldn't ever let them leave?
Yeah, I dunno really where this one came from. I was just taking notes on some various pony things and some not-so-various story things, and I just kinda... got struck by some of the ideas I was having.
So, I put fingers to keyboard, and what you're about to read is what came out.
So, um... enjoy? I kinda like it, and I kinda want to make it a long-term thing. Hopefully I won't lose passion and abandon it like the others hahahahahahahahahaha
This story's more about the time period rather than the big bad chaos Himself, so, there's the premise. You're probably also gonna see my bent towards Luna, which I can't really help. Stick with me?
Warnings are redundant for now, but probably won't be someday. Tagged for safety, I guess. is that wrong i'm sorry
I stole the cover image from a guy named dimfann, I'm sorryyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
If she did both, would that make the water just... vanish? Would it no longer drip from one pot to the next? No longer pool and fill to the long faded lines marked along the insides in worn char?
Would time stop, then, if they no longer had a way to tell?
Drip
No, it wouldn't, and she knew that. Maybe, when she was younger, she'd dared to dream that, for quiet moments of sweet silence, it ever could. That if the water was made to stop in some way, it wouldn't just be her job to fill it up again.
That there wouldn't be a need to use the pots. That if she hid them away like a silly little filly once had, time would not stop, and the noise would.
Drip
She sighed again, though she knew the noise wouldn't stop for it. The noise wouldn't stop for anything short of running out of water, and the river made sure that would never happen. No, she was only sighing because she felt like it.
Because it was easy. Because sometimes, just listening to the water wasn't.
The water that never stopped. The noise that always kept. The cycle that could never break.
Perhaps she'd been leaning without realizing, or maybe her mood had tipped the balance, because a stray lock of her normally brushed and tidy mane fell from its place to swing about in the center of her vision. Blocking only a tiny sliver of the big-as-her, off-brown pot she sat staring at, but well enough to break her focus.
She huffed as her eyes crossed: the noise disturbing the other-than-dripping silence, and doing even worse to the deep sense of peace she'd gathered. Now, the constant sound of dripping was once more that: a constant. Noise made nearly deaf to her ears; worn and rubbed by the time the shaped clay dutifully kept.
She shifted from her spot held close to the floor, and brushed the long strands of pink out of the way, to lie where they should: behind her ear. All was right again.
Except, of course, for her focus.
It was hard to say why the noise captivated her so, or maybe it was just hard to admit. She certainly held no love for the ceaseless patter: always in the background, following her in her sleep, always playing its too-empty, too-dissonant tone.
It may have been the sound of home, the sound of life, but its persistence hardly dulled the sharp noise. It was even; measured and calculated to the removal of fault. If anything else, it was exact. It was perfect. It had to be.
It was... centering.
She tried, again, to listen to the water. From the pot perched on a plank affixed to the wall: dripping through a tiny hole in both surfaces to land in a constant tic into the mostly-identical pot on the floor below it. One drop by another, listening as she drifted off, until she awoke after sleep to an empty pot over a full one.
The endless cycle. The flow of time. The ebb of life.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip-
"Dear, are you in there?"
The call came nearly as she'd lost herself in the sound again. So close to the trance of water hitting water, and the long stretch until dinner and bed made short. So close to that needed calm of quieted still.
The time had worn on her as she'd sat idle, and it hurt to stretch as she pushed herself up from the floor. Her short legs, though; the floor could only get so far away.
Even as whatever peace she'd gained sloughed away, it was hard to get mad at the formless voice. Hard to deny the soft feeling of warmth it brought her. Hard to admit how much she'd missed it, even if only for the short time it'd been gone.
She turned to the imposing wooden door at the back of the room, where the voice had resonated out so muffled-yet-clearly from. It was almost as if the door itself had spoken to her, but she knew that wasn't true. The voice, with its soft-tone-even-when-raised, was more than familiar: it was unforgettable.
"Yes, mother, I'm here!" she called out, only slightly raspy as she'd not had a chance to drink since she'd woken. There was always the option of drinking from the pot, but she knew from second-hoof experience how the taste would sting.
Her mother had returned from her day in the garden, and now she returned her call: voice slightly tired, slightly edged as it came quieter for a moment, then louder.
"Oh, dear... Would you please go out and find your sister? She's run off again, and lunch will be ready soon."
The sharp-but-soft sound of stone on hard wood. The faint-but-distinct smell of smoke; a fire beginning in the hearth.
She frowned, only because she knew her mother couldn't see it. She called again: feeling for a moment that it was rude to keep shouting through the door, but not strongly enough to open the door. "Where is father? Wasn't he watching her?"
Father often took the burden of watching her sister; a duty she would never for a moment envy. She felt sometimes that it was... a little less than fair that he would spend his scarce free time managing such disaster in familial form, but there was little to do or say about it.
Not without seeming childish, at least.
Her mother's voice came again: seeming even tired-but-busier still, as the once-silent sound of cutting grew louder then quieter in time with her passing voice. "Oh, he'd been watching her, yes. But I needed help with a stubborn tree root that had grown over an edge of our carrot patch, and when he turned his back..."
A sigh. A quiet, tired sigh. "Well... you know how she can be."
Yes, she did know her sister well.
She blinked, and turned back to the bottom pot. She took a step towards it, and a bracing step onto its edge to raise herself higher; peering down into its clear-but-colored-brown shallow.
Sixteen large, black gashes painted in long, rough strokes along the inside, and one half-sized gash in between each. The water, ever slightly rippling, lay an unseen quarter gash above the half gash marking the midway between seven and eight.
Lunchtime, or near enough.
She backed away and turned, not to the door now behind her, but to the door now in front of her. Where one lead to the kitchen and the woods beyond another door, the front door simply let right out. This was the door she stepped towards now.
"I'll be back with her before lunch is ready!"
The shout over her shoulder was met with silence, and the world seemed a little too quiet in her ears for a moment before she blinked it away.
Her mother was busy, that was all. Always busy. Always working. Always cooking, or digging, or planting, or off... somewhere.
No, it was okay. There was no reason to be dramatic about it; her mother loved her very much. And so did father.
Father, who never seemed to spend as much time with her as he did with... her.
The dizziness she so often associated with a running mind shifted the world under her hooves for a moment, and she stopped just short of the door to shake her head roughly. She stopped: with her gaze on the worn wooden floor, as her hoof rose to rest on the edge of the door's frame.
She blinked, and for a moment: the dizziness stopped.
Another, and it was gone.
Her mind set itself right with another quick shake, and she raised herself to push firmly on the door. One long creak, and the world outside greeted her with the immediate sights and smells of too-green-to-stand.
She thought about turning, to cast a forlorn look back into her home where her mother was.
The forest, as she knew it, was a stoic thing. It was vast and sweeping; a living thing with life all its own to support, but somehow so... static.
But wasn't that just everything, here?
Passing trees that towered above, brushing through plush growth with fronds and ferns too-tall-but-still-short, and stepping in short-then-long-then-short steps along roots that nearly seemed as tall as walls. In the air: a sweet song played to a tune all its own by birds unseen, while little creatures and bugs too-small-but-still-scarily-big scuttled and scampered through the grass and moss that poked and prodded at the softest part of her hooves.
Brown and green on every surface from mud to bark and leaves and ivy, crawling up and invading every surface even amidst colors already in their proper places. A constant war against itself for no reason other than for the daily change to things too miniscule to notice.
But even with the struggle, the life and the change: it still seemed so fixed.
The trees, even with their bark that chipped and wore and greyed, and the roots that crawled and found places-they-shouldn't-be: they still never died. The leaves would never fall. The oak would never break.
She'd watched, once, as a younger filly, while her sister, too-small-and-too-weak, had tried to chop away at one of the earthen monsters. They'd found an old one, the bark at its bottom long since fallen and rubbed to the pale flesh that lay inside, and her sister had taken to gleefully-but-still-angrily hacking at it with her little stone knife.
Before the wood had even chipped, her sister's knife had snapped in two. It hadn't been all that sturdy in the first place, being carved from stone by a filly too impatient and too bent on immediate harm to do it properly, but she'd been unable to even make a groove with it.
She stopped, then, at the base of one. Resting her hoof along its edge, to feel the prick of the rough and unhewn bark on her frog; peering closely at the scaly hide, as if it would somehow tell its secrets at a glance.
She knew wood could be cut. The walls of their home, and even her mother's cutting board: they could be damaged. Chipped, and scarred. Accidentally or purposefully defaced.
When her father would go out for the wood scraps and chunks they used for fire and crafting, he would always be gone for far too long. As if he'd had to travel long for the bountiful material. He'd never said, and she'd never asked, but that was what she'd come to assume.
They lived in a forest, but for the trees' strength: it may as well have been a plain.
She began a rough arc around the tree, letting the hard edge of her hoof dip and scrape along the bark as her hooves carried her in a circle. The very scarce chips and shards that broke off at her assault stung at her frog, but the tiny pain only served a reminder to the thoughts that plagued her.
The bark would break, but the wood would not. But wood could break; she'd seen it for herself.
There was nothing in their books. Her parents wouldn't bring it up without reason. She would not dare to ask.
Which was normal?
This was not the first time she'd wondered, and the way her life seemed to be laid: it would not be the last.
A sigh bubbled in her chest as she slowed to a stop; letting her hoof fall away from its mutually-but-minimally destructive pursuit. There was a sore, now, that she felt near the heel of her frog; a consequence of her idle whim that she would curse for as long as it lasted.
She only grimaced for the first moment as she set her hoof down, but it was a moment passed, and then it changed.
When she opened her eyes, the world was different. The light tones and spots cast along the ground and trees like painted water from a bucket now sported darker shades; an immediate shadowing to the forest between blinks.
She cast her gaze up, feeling the warmth on her fur that she'd taken for granted begin to fade; a chill leaping into the air to bite at her ear as she looked skyward. A sky that she could only barely see for what it was, and what it wasn't.
It was dark. Though, she could barely tell the difference.
The canopy of leaves was overbearing; it covered near enough to the entire view of the sky. High enough that she'd never touch it, ground-bound as she was, but still near enough to serve as that constant reminder.
The constant ceiling that would only ever partially break; she'd never been without it, or something like it. Never seen the sky for what it truly was: what she'd read it as, and what her parents would describe it as. Never felt air not touched by the smell of pine and sap; never saw beyond a glimpse what it was that would cast the light and the dark.
She imagined it would not be all that different from being under the trees.
The light was gone from the faint signs of sky, now painted instead by something lesser. Two tones entirely different, but her parents would tell her tales of how it was nothing to fear. No reason to cower as the forest would grow dark in a drip, then lighten again with no seeming schedule.
It was only something called the 'sun' and the 'moon' raising and setting. Only the harbingers of the light and dark, nothing so intense as the end of the world. A fitting balm for her active young mind, at the time.
But, as she'd never asked, why was it that they saw fit to? What purpose did it serve for the sun and moon to raise, and for that matter, to be so erratic? There was no identifiable interval to their move; they simply did as they seemingly saw fit. Was there no schedule? Did the unattainable things so high in the sky not have their own pots to set themselves to?
There was no answer. Her parents would never tell, even in the scarce times she'd asked. This one thing, when she would so often stay silent for her curiosity: they would purposefully obscure. Why the sun and the moon rose and set whenever they wanted: her parents would keep a secret from her.
But, for her parents not telling, she'd never asked why.
With the dark encroached without warning, it was now only minimally harder to see as she craned her head back down. The light, comforting-in-comparison-to-dark as it was, only really served to warm her path. The forest was so naturally shaded; she wasn't sure there was ever a time she hadn't been able to quickly adjust.
She caught a glimpse of white as she stepped forward, and, for whatever reason, it caught her off-guard. One moment of surprise, perhaps in the span of a drip, and she nearly jumped away from the flash in surprise. Nearly actually jumped, it was such a shock.
But then, she calmed. Of course. She was so silly, getting all caught up in her own mind. This was why she tried very hard not to indulge her too-frequent-for-safety curiosity: it allowed openings for these such... silly things.
She'd only seen her hoof, her own white fur.
A hoof covered in white fur that found itself solidly on the ground again, as she'd raised it in an ill-considered startle. Now, she trot forward confidently, secure in her own mind again. For having banished once again the deep tracts of curiosity that lay like stones in her thoughts.
There was no time, even as she made her leisurely way through the familiar paths of growth and the bristles plucking and tugging at her white coat, to indulge herself in such a distracting manner.
She always knew where her sister went. Always known where she would go, when she so often ran off to be alone. Always could tell when she was getting antsy; wanting to get away from her and their parents and the cabin.
And the woods.
But still, she could only go so far. Not even her sister: flighty and willful and endlessly obstinate, would break the one true edict their parents had set for them. From their birth to their first day outside to the still-unchanging present, they had always impressed upon the two of them one thing above all.
Don't leave the forest. Not until it's time.
Of course, they had never said when it would be 'time'. Time to leave it all behind, and go out into the greater world beyond; because of course there was one. Even if their parents would never tell them about it directly, and they did, anyway: they still had their books to speak of it.
The books they'd always had, that their parents had kept from when their parents had been around. And, of course, the books that their father would bring back. From his long trips to gather wood-that-shouldn't-be-so-far, he would also sometimes bring back books.
'Here,' he'd say. 'I know how you two love to read.'
And they did, and it only made her love her father all the more. Made her forget that he'd been gone for whole pots, and that he never should have found books if he was just going for firewood.
It really did make it all okay, for her.
But she could never tell if it did for her sister.
Regardless of ill-feelings, though, she still listened to them. Still never left the forest. And, of course, she still always went to the same place.
A quiet little place, even in the still-quiet-but-not-as-quiet woods. Not as distinct as an idyllic mind might prefer, but different enough to make it a point in the environment.
Just a small clearing, where one tree stood lonely. Surrounded on all sides, but no other tree coming as near as to touch; there was even more of an opening in the canopy above.
The tree itself was not even so uncommon; it was simply a tree. Not tall, nor short, or even so extremely ordinary. It was less than anything little, but not of any substance to mark it among something high. It held more than enough to make it seem different, but not any more than the other trees did as well. In every way, even in a backwards way, it was average.
Just a tree.
A tree that sported a rather unusual blue spot on its branches.
She frowned up at the shock of color in the otherwise bland-and-mostly-green outlook. From where she stood at the ordinarily-unordinary tree's base, she could only see the small-from-her-vantage bit of blue if she peered closely up at it. And, of course, she had: since she'd known beforehoof to look about halfway up the tree as she was.
Otherwise, it would have been completely missable. Not unless a pony was specifically walking around looking at the leaves would they have seen the blue, and even then they would have had to have been closely scrutinizing the branches for any differences.
But then, once it caught the eye, it was obvious. Only easy to miss; not so easy to ignore.
It was, after all, very clearly identifiable as a drooping blue tail. And, if one were to look closer, they might spot the very end of a slightly swaying, slightly lighter-blue hoof right in front of it.
And, maybe if one were to listen very closely: they could hear the subtle little rattle of a snore.
Her sister often came here, to this tree. To sleep, to play on, to just sit under; there was something of a fondness for this particular tree in her sister's heart.
She'd asked, once, what made this tree so special. Why, whenever she would disappear to the worry-then-exasperation of her family, she would, without fail, come here.
And her sister had told her.
'It's because this tree is magical. This tree spoke to me in my dreams, and told me of the things it had seen and heard through its great roots. It told me stories of far-off lands and great monuments built into the sky itself that awed all who beheld them. And it told me that one day, it would craft itself into a great vessel in reverence to me, upon which it would take me far away from here.'
She'd looked her right in the eyes, then. Eyes so often filled with mockery or anger or laughter, now seeming so sharp and serious. Not softened with easy emotion, but hard with reality. It had seemed stark, coming from that sincere goofball.
She had looked at her, as she'd lain her hoof upon its surface with her face so unusually plain, and said one thing.
'This tree is my ticket out of this dump.'
She'd always been... an odd sort.
Whatever nonsense her dreamy, cloud-head sister had fooled herself into believing, it seemed real enough for her. Real enough to lead her back to the tree time and time again, even when she knew it would work half as well as a hiding place for the next time.
She'd often wondered, just what her sister's real reasons were?
Well, as she glared at the little swaying hoof up so high, she knew why it was that she was listening to those soft little rumbling snores. Her sister was a layabout, and she had no such reservations in allowing her mind to run free as some, more focused ponies did.
She slept too much, and did too little, and there was only one thing for it.
A wakeup.
"Luna!"
Her sudden call, as loud as she could make it, quite readily shattered the peace she was sure lazy Luna was happily enjoying. At least, if the sudden flurry of surprised motion up in the only-sort-of-high branch was any indication.
She couldn't help but smile a little to herself, perhaps spitefully, as more of her sister revealed herself over the edge. Swinging hooves and panicked exclamations, as one end over the other: Luna gradually fell side-first off the edge of the branch in a tangle of blue hair and limbs.
She stepped back as, halfway down or so, a set of two big-on-her-but-still-tiny wings unfurled in a desperate flap. It was less sharp wingbeats and more an annoying buzz as hair whipped and hooves pushed against air; her sister gradually righting herself and slowing to a steady, mid-air crawl a scant few hoof-lengths above the ground.
She knew Luna could keep herself aloft, and sometimes she did as they spoke, but now she set herself on the ground in the space that had been made for her: a pout on her face all the way. Well, she may have intended it as a furious glare, but for those big cyan eyes and cute little blue cheeks: it was always a pout.
She'd always been cute, if ill-tempered at best.
"Sister! You could have really-"
The beginnings of an angry tirade cut themselves off on Luna's lips; her still-young-and-squeaky voice fading as something occurred to her, and she seemed to reel herself back a tad. Still angry: but her head raised indignantly, and her face became altogether more haughty.
"Celestia," Oh no, she was doing that 'refined' thing with her voice again, as her mouth turned up in a still-pretty-cute sneer. "-thou still hast no concept of manners, it may seem." Luna barked out a single breath laugh, or it might've been a cough, as she shook her head reproachfully. "Thy carelessness strikes true; our life would have been fraught but for our hastened and quick reflexes."
This... was a recent thing.
Neither Celestia nor their parents knew where she'd picked it up, but Luna had, as of too-many-to-count pots ago by now: taken heartily to speaking in a very... unique way.
That... manner of speaking wasn't even in any of the books they had. She'd read each and every one of them vigorously, and again in specific search of this, and there was nothing anything like it anywhere in any of them. Asking Luna about it yielded as many results; the ever-unhelpful filly only self-righteously claiming that 'it was how the old refined ponies spoke.'
Yeah, maybe in plays.
Luna continued to speak as Celestia thought, now not even looking at her as she waved her hoof and sniffed disdainfully into the air. Fine; it allowed her to freely gag. "You- I mean- thine luck pervades. If we had been hurt, thy punishment at the hooves of our parents wouldst surely have been grave and lasting."
Luna craned her head down again, thankfully slowly enough that she could wipe the sickly face she'd been making at her while her eyes were closed. Her eyes, now, were hooded and full of glimmering, fake disinterest; though the expression was lost somewhat as Luna still had to look mostly up at her.
"We shall forgive thine trespass."
Celestia, beginning to feel as though she was being made fun of, opened her mouth to reply, but she was cut off as Luna continued unexpectedly. Her mouth left half open as Luna's remained fully open, and droning out one long syllable.
"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIf-" She leaned back with a tepid face as Luna leaned forward on her long 'if,' only stopping after what seemed like a dozen drips. It was silent for a moment after, as Luna simply glared at her quietly, though she eventually sniffed, and spoke again.
"-thou apologize."
Luna nodded to herself as she finished, now leaning away from her made-perilous-by-her-short-legs lean, and letting her haunches fall to the ground as she sat: eyes closed and face turned away, waiting for her apology.
Celestia looked her baby sister up and down in one long, dry stare, ending at her petulant face framed by short, blue bangs. Even now, in the throes of one of her dramatic little escapades, it still twitched with quiet energy.
She quirked an eyebrow. "So you're two ponies, now?"
Whatever her sister had been doing to keep herself silent was blown over in an instant by a large bound of indignance that dropped like a stone onto her face. Luna's head swept around in an affronted gape, and her cheeks puffed red with anger as she jumped up, and stomped one of her little hooves into the ground.
"Sister! You're supposed to play along!"
Celestia rolled her eyes. Oh, here they went. "Luna, I've told you before and I'll tell you again." She took one step towards her sister, while letting her face push into Luna's; their noses scarce distance apart as she stared down at her with a frown. "You're the only one who even understands what you're saying. I'm not going to indulge your little fantasy."
Luna, for her credit, did not shy away from the close proximity. As a matter of seeming pride, she even leaned up towards Celestia; their noses now pressed against each other, even as Luna retorted. "'Tis hardly a fantasy that which will one day be made true."
Luna smiled- or maybe sneered- up at her, as she began to feel the smaller filly pressing harder to push her face away. Celestia pushed back, gaining ground as her gaze narrowed into the fiery cyan of Luna's laughing eyes. "While thee and thy may seem content to whittle life away to a useless nub, we dream of greater things. We shall not forever be constrained by this grand chasm of trees and boredom."
Luna, as was typical of her, was really starting to fray her nerves. With her glare only being matched, and her intended tower only being challenged, the situation was rapidly spiraling out of Celestia's control. Luna was just too headstrong, and it was a fool's errand to attempt to smother her.
Celestia knew this.
But she was the bigger sister.
One small, white hoof slowly edged forward against a smaller-than-small blue hoof as Celestia pressed her size advantage; neck straining, nose squishing less as Luna's squished more, and a very determined blue face slowly inched further down.
Celestia smiled, feeling victory close at hoof, as Luna's eyes darted away in a moment of sweet, nervous panic.
But then, she moved.
The pressure pushing up against Celestia's nose was suddenly gone, and with it: the surface she'd been balancing on. Luna twirled away in a deft stroke of her wings, pealing out an annoyingly satisfied burst of laughter as Celestia tumbled forward with an exclamation of surprise. Her face made painful impact with the cold ground, and everything seemed dazed for a long moment as her sister's laughter filled her ears.
Stars spun in her vision, but she blinked them away as four stubby little hooves came out in front of her. "And for thine information..." Celestia did her best to look up at Luna from her butt-up-head-down vantage; her sister still only barely taller than her, but looking as smug as if she was ten times her height.
The blue bother leaned down, to more evenly stare into Celestia's eyes as her voice seemed to sing with triumph. "To use the encompassing we implies a greater mind."
Celestia groaned in more than one kind of pain, and began to push herself up as her sister turned away. "Not that your oh-so-great mind would deign to care, but mother wanted you to come home for lunchtime," Celestia muttered, brushing the locks of her now-mussed pink mane back into place as she stood.
Luna, turned away with her head held high, hummed in response: head swaying slightly in time to the jaunty sound. "Yes, we thought as much." Luna swept a hoof through the air, to stop in a point as one of her back legs raised to match. "The tree had been telling us tales of the old world, and it had just finished an epic of the many feasts of plenty the great nobles would oft take of."
She turned her head, to flash an eye of mischief at Celestia, as she smiled daringly. "The experience seemed so unlike a dream: perhaps we had known without knowledge of the time."
Celestia groaned, and rolled her eyes again. Her sister's boasting seemed endless at times; always finding new things to brag or bray about. She sometimes felt that Luna believed herself completely faultless.
She shook her head, as Luna hopped, and switched the hooves she had in the air. "Fine, whatever, cloud-head. Trees can speak and you're as magical as I am. May we go, now?"
Celestia tapped her hoof on the ground impatiently as Luna hummed again, longer this time. She hopped, again, then again as her hum redoubled.
This went on for far too long.
What felt like dozens of drips passed with Luna doing little but repeatedly hopping and humming. She seemed intent on making a game of it, or sport, at least. For as lazy as Luna seemed-and-usually-was, she was also absolutely enchanted with physical activity.
Even as the pot ran dry, and sleep beckoned to those regular few: Luna would return home drenched in sweat, one of her little stone knives at her side.
She didn't know why Luna enjoyed swinging those things around so much, or where she'd even learned to do that, but it was hardly any of her concern what frivolities her sister indulged herself in.
Except for when it bothered her, like it was now.
With so long spent just watching and waiting as her anger boiled, Celestia had nearly worked up enough exasperation to at least walk over and push her sister over when Luna suddenly stopped.
All four of her hooves on the ground, and she turned promptly to stand properly in front of Celestia with her eyes closed in contentment. "Very well. We shall go."
Celestia sighed, and her head rolled around her eyes as she made to turn, but she was cut off as a sudden blur of blue rushed out in front of her, nearly crashing into her but for a hair's-length.
She started back as Luna fluttered about in front of her, a wide, brash smile on her face to compliment her eyes full of mirth and mock alike. "And when we return, we shall inform mother that thy will was to dawdle!" Luna announced grandly, flapping again to hold her aloft, before turning to leave the way Celestia had come with another flap.
But that quick second in-between her tease and her escape would be her undoing.
As Luna took to the relative skies underneath the trees: her tail, whipping about behind her on the eve of her turn, was caught quite unexpectedly to the overeager pegasus. A sharp tug brought a surprised gasp to her lips as her movement halted, and another was enough of a shock to her system to stall her wings.
With one last desperate flap, Luna fell to the hard ground in a manner reminiscent of the one she'd barely staved off earlier; only a few hoof-lengths away from where she'd started. Now, of course, her wings did not slow her fall.
Celestia smiled from behind the groaning mass of her sister, as a shining golden light flickered into silence from where it had exploded into life around her younger sister's tail. The bright, golden light that also burned around her horn, sat atop her head, which now dimmed its own light.
She trotted around to Luna's front, where the little pony's dazed face was still caught between confused blinks at the ground. She leaned down, to smile brilliantly at the splayed out crashed pegasus, whose unfocused eyes barely managed to catch on the vindictive expression.
"And when I return home first, I shall tell mother that you were sleeping in a tree again."
The softly spoken words didn't seem to altogether register to the downed-and-out pony, as she only shut her eyes, and groaned again. Celestia chuckled to herself, as she stood back to full height, and turned to leave with a profound sense of peace in her breast.
Quick little Luna still may very well reach the cabin first as soon as she recovered, but for now: Celestia's magic had given her the edge.
Because she was the bigger sister. And bigger sisters always won.
The wind tugged at her with imperious claws as she fell. Headfirst with her body streaming out like a comet behind her, hooves and head and body feeling all as though they may at any time be torn straight from her. The chill of a breeze too slow to do more than scrape at her coat as she tore a hole through layers and layers of endless sky.
She didn't know when she'd started to fall. She didn't know how long she'd been falling.
But still, she opened her eyes, and her wings followed suit.
The far reaching blue stretched like the pale ocean out before her as her wings unfurled; her body and shallow breaths hitching in a moment as the deep gusts caught under her wide span. The cinch of air a comforting embrace like she'd never known, but somehow so familiar.
But something was wrong.
She struggled to control her out of time breathing; every breath full of the pain brought by the buffeting and bracing winds, as her wings struggled to keep steady amidst the torrent. Her eyes burned. Her chest tightened, and she suddenly realized of a stabbing ache in her breast.
She spun, trying to find a draft. Something to save her. Tight circles of increasingly desperate attempts that each failed in turn; spiraling in greater and greater space until she was once more falling: hooves flailing and body twisting with even less control than before.
She couldn't do it: her wings couldn't catch the wind. They flapped and swept uselessly behind her; a weak tithe in comparison to the great, crushing weight borne against them. Not worthy to the eyes of the skies. Not enough.
They flagged, bent close to her back; she gasped in pain.
She couldn't do it.
You can do it.
She didn't have the strength.
You have the strength.
She needed more.
Take all you need.
Her wings snapped to full length with power like she'd never felt. Her body jerked and her next breath stalled on her open lips as the sky seemed to disconnect from her in one jarring moment. The fall stopped; the world shifted.
She began to glide.
The sky before her: only moments before an angry, far off observer that pressed in closer and closer every second, now seemed placid. Appeased, and cautious. Distant and dangerous under and away from her hooves before her, but no longer approaching for her harm.
A nervous, nearly afraid chuckle rose on her lips as she slowly fell- no, floated down in a gradual arc. Her hooves waving out into the long stretch of expanse: looking for ground that wasn't there. She tentatively flapped her wings; the movement dropping her towards the bright chasm of unending blue for a heart-stopping moment of fear, before propelling her forward as they crested her withers.
Again, she rose higher. Again, and her smile grew more bold. Again; an excited bubble of laughter pealed from her large grin.
Once more, and she began to fly.
With one great leap of her feathers, she burst with a boom towards the heavens. Her hooves, once bonelessly kept trailing at her sides: now leapt like arrows, sturdy and strong, from her front. They carved her way forward as a steady drone of tension built in her back; wings flapping in a powerfully even rhythm to the take of her breath.
She rose and rose, body now set at a glorious opposite to her tragic fall of what could only be ages ago, now. There was no memory left of such terrors; there was only her grand ascent.
Clouds of familiar white color came and went as she climbed higher and higher. Each misty barrier doing little to stand in her way as she braced for each, and broke through with another flap. They were insignificant in comparison to her.
All is insignificant to you.
This was it. This was flying.Freedom.
The long barrage of cold and mane-dampening mist ended as she blew past the cloud barrier, into the highest section of sky to the heavens. Time seemed to slow as she turned, back and widely flapping wings to the long sea of white; breath stalling on her lips as awe tugged her jaw, and tasteless shock dulled her mind.
Up above, where no clouds lay: the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen. Like a great, giant eye peering from a black expanse of sweet, pure nothing: an incredible, monumental, indescribable white circle.
Just... up there.
The moment passed, she took breath, and with a profound sense of wonder: she began to fall again.
Her body flipped over itself as she twisted to face the clouds again, thoughts of the hole in the black sky burning in her mind as she tucked her wings close to her, brought her head down, and brought her front facing hooves to touch their sides.
She almost expected some kind of impact as she tore through the first film of fluff, but there was as little resistance as there was overwhelming momentum. Blindly streaking; a wonderfully painful sensation of the force on her body as mile on mile of cloud shattered before her.
Her body hurt.
She'd never felt so alive!
A long, foggy trail of cloud swept behind her as she shot back down into the endless blue; too bright for what lay above, lit instead by something unseen below. Barely a thought in the back of her mind as she twirled tightly, traces of mist still clinging to her hooves and creeping up along her neck.
The suffocating cloak of condensed drizzle flew off her like a shed cocoon as her wings snapped open again; her extended twist ending in a half-turn, as she flapped herself to an upright gliding position. Still falling just as fast, but now primed for what came next.
Her heart was beating, so loud in her ears; she couldn't stop grinning.
Her wings folded, shifting back to let the air carry her up. The roaring wind, still carrying her along so fast: caught along the thread she'd set, giving her a wonderfully hard feeling in her chest as it compressed.
She soared up and up to a sideways view, the feeling in her chest growing and growing to tune with every bit of overwhelming feeling attacking her on all fronts; her smile quickly feeling itchy on her face. It wasn't enough expression. It didn't fit.
She needed more.
Feel no shame.
She whooped in time to the burst of exhilaration in her chest as her climb turned upside-down, and she twirled for that extra bit of oomph before she began to arc back down to where she'd started. She passed the unseen mark too fast to register, and kept going; her warm face stuck in silly faces for each awesome moment.
She raced between expansive mesas and deep gorges formed by the fluffy cloudbank; trailing along their edges and letting her hooves drag long trails in the mist that left her damp and sensitive. A bright holler of joy balled in her throat and escaped as she climbed the edge of a rising peak; peaking across multiple spectrums as she cleared it, then sped down its side.
She took a moment to watch her shadow along the clouds as the wind carried her: the blackened double keeping nearly perfect pace with her, though losing by a large hoof's length.
So, certainly not her hoof.
She cracked a squeal, laughing at her own joke as she broadened her wings, and let the breeze carry her up. Her constant companion obliged readily as it always did; the weightless feeling bringing a bright feeling to her hooves as she spun, letting them sway around her.
This was all she'd ever wanted. This. Here. Now. In the moment, in the vast and reaching sky; not in the small little cabin or the dumb, dank woods. So far from everything she'd ever known, but so little lost.
This was all she'd ever-
In a blink, in a flash, in the shallow span of a drip barely even settled: it was gone.
-wanted.
The soft feeling of something plush pushed up on her back, while something just as warm encircled her midriff. Soft sounds of even breathing and tiny chirps and cricks of small bugs. A warm presence at her side, just far enough to not touch. The dark above her: brightening into the image of a ceiling. Wood.
Luna's next breath was a shallow gasp, as her body jerked upright. Her head whipped in every direction she could as soft pictures of white mountains on blue skies faded from each stare; her breathing picking up fast pace as every sight left faint afterimages that bled into dark sights that were quickly brightening to-
No. She shut her eyes.
It couldn't have been a dream. It couldn't have been a dream. She'd felt the wind under her wings. She'd tasted the sweet, thin air. She'd laughed for the feeling of excitement in her chest as she'd skirted the precipice of crashing.
She'd touched the sky. She'd soared above.
The memory of her racing heart. The heat of the neverending moment of adrenaline.
Her haunches, as if they'd been still for a long time, stung uncomfortably as they took more of her weight, but still: she brought one of the hooves supporting her up to her chest.
Cold. Racing, but empty. Like it always was.
Like everything was.
It was a dream. Like it always was.
Drip
Drip
Drip
Her breathing hitched as she grit her teeth, and a very real urge began to sweep over her. An urge that she hated herself for, even as she let her back relax, and her head touch her bed again.
She breathed in one shuddering breath, then another, as she tried to keep her eyes shut as tightly as she could. To stem the flow. To staunch the bleeding. To make herself strong.
It wasn't working. Because she wasn't strong. She couldn't do it.
And there was no response.
The warmth was coming fast, building in her cheeks in quick masses too large to ignore, so she opened her eyes again. The dim wood ceiling rose above her, only as tall as four or so of her. The sight only hurt all the more.
She winced, and cringed away from it: turning onto her side, to bring her to what lay there. A comparatively large lump of darkened white and eyesore pink that burned her eyes for a moment; its side rising and falling to time with the present sounds of breathing that wasn't hers.
She shuffled closer to the mass, biting her lip to stop the small yips of sorrow that threatened to jump out. Her vision now dominated by it: she stared at the mass for a very long moment, letting her head wobble in mixed fear and need before her forehead finally came to gently rest on the side of the white.
"Celestia?" she whispered thinly, letting the quiet word hang in the air for a moment as her throat burned with the effort of keeping her held-in tears from entering it. Her sister shifted after a moment, but the sound of breathing did not alter, and Luna knew she'd have to try again.
"Sister?" She whispered, again; cringing down on herself as, this time, her voice came dangerously close to cracking. Still, her sister did not respond, and Luna took a shuddering sigh of effort that turned into a low whine at its tail. Her body wracked itself with shivers for a moment, and she could only brace against the near break until she eventually calmed.
"Sister?" This time, she tried louder, and she knew she'd failed. Her voice, too loud, came out warbly and ugly, and her breath caught too late to stop a pathetic sob. She squeezed her eyes shut as a stray tear leaked out, wetting the fur of her cheek as her sister finally stirred to the sounds.
She couldn't stand to look and not see the blue sky anymore. She only felt the subtle motions of her sister as she went through her own process of waking; her head being dislodged from the scant warmth as her sister shifted around to face her.
Luna knew her sister was looking at her now: seeing the mess her face likely was. And it hurt.
It was a moment of quiet before the sleepy breath of her sister began to turn into a word, but she didn't give her time to start before she was pushing her face in the direction she thought her sister's chest was. Something like warm, pillowy softness enveloped her, and her hooves lying dormant at her sides rose frantically to circle around what she could reach of her sister.
She hated it.
She was getting her sister's coat dirty, now.
She hated it.
More and more little whines and body-shaking sobs were beginning to escape her bruised lip.
She hated it.
A quiet sigh, and the weight of a hoof on her head that set to gently stroking along her mane and down the curve of her neck. Making her shiver, and making it so much harder to stop herself.
"What's wrong, Lulu?"
One quiet sob, and then everything just began to unravel.
Luna shifted slightly, her back rubbing against the wood she sat on in the scratchy, itchy way that she liked. Her head was set straight on her familiar branch, in her familiar tree, as she stared lazily up at the small peek of the sky she could see through the gap in the leaves.
It was bright right now, unfortunately, and what was even worse was that she still couldn't see any clouds. There were hardly ever any clouds, and certainly, when they did appear, they were never as amazingly vast as they were in her dreams. Never so fluffy and white. Never as close, or tangible. Never as real.
Nothing was ever as real as it was in her dreams.
Her ear perked to the noise of her father shuffling quietly far below her; the sound unmistakable after as many times they had been in this scenario. He'd been there for some lengthy amount of time, but he wouldn't ever say anything to her, of course. The undue pressure would be 'guilty' for him. It wouldn't be 'right,' he'd say: 'to disturb her.'
He'd just... wait. For lines, if need be.
Luna frowned, purely to herself.
She so wanted to tell him to suck it up. She wanted to tell him to order her down from the tree. She wanted him to yell; to finally tell her off for being so lazy, for once.
She'd tell her sister of her frustration later, and her sister would, with that knowing tone of hers, tell her to be patient with the stallion. That their father only wanted to be kind, and there was nothing wrong with kindness, or with the way he loved them. And he did, she would insist. As she often did.
Luna sighed; closing her eyes, and imagining for a moment the possibility of just drifting off. The sleepy temptation was there, on several very tempting levels. If she slept, her father would either go away, sit there like a lump for half a pot, or take charge for once. Any option would serve the sodded milksop right.
And... if she slept... she would dream.
If she dreamt... she could live.
There's nothing wrong with kindness.
Luna's eyes drifted open, and she murmured discontentedly as the sky stayed bright. She always did prefer the dark; even for training. The darkness didn't throw her off so much, but more than that: it was less unnerving. Less of her for ponies to see when she messed up.
She let momentum do most of the work as she less jumped and more fell off the edge of the branch. She dropped, maybe a little listlessly, for a boring moment of spinning green before her wings folded open and caught her on the air. Barely any effort as she glided in easy, looping circles around the tree, until she was coming to a landing for her father's waiting smile.
She tried not to frown.
Like anypony had ever seen her to begin with.
She didn't know if the other half of the family knew what they did, out here.
It certainly wasn't as though she'd purposefully obscured it, she had just- Okay, maybe she had lied to Celestia on purpose, but she'd had good reason!
She didn't want her sister butting her dumb head into one of the few things she had to herself. That was a very good reason.
A quiet grove: ground well-tread and cleared to worn, even dirt. Steady breathing, and the mid-moment sounds of hard exertion.
Luna swept towards her target with a powerful flap of her wings; the air under her shifting for her primed feathers and lifting her forward onto her back hooves as her body stretched. Her advance slowed as she hit the ground hard on two hooves, though she cringed as her upright balance felt immediately off.
It was always hard to stand on two hooves, and even harder still for any kind of comfortable movement.
But she'd been trained; maybe even well enough. Her muscles had long known the uncomfortable position, and she'd more or less forced it to be natural at this point. She knew by instinct how to follow through to prevent a fall.
The short, stone knife held backwards in the crook of her hoof sung through the air as she leaned in, and purposefully danced unsteadily on one hoof. Her spinning momentum, half edged on completely falling, carried her around into a full circle that ended where she'd began: with the knife slotting a shallow gash across the short, scarred pole.
The dizzy spin was quickly petering off even as the hollow noise wrung small satisfaction out of her chest; her hoof slipping further and further off grip as she began to lean unsteadily forward. The meeting of the ground and her face becoming a very real reality that she was not keen on.
One wing caught the air; one wing flapped, hard.
The uneven force sent her spinning away into the air, opposite from the rubbed, wooden training pole. Her head tilted with dizziness as she came to a mid-air stop, but she simply squeezed her eyes shut for one hard moment to just as soon leave her vision clear and focused on her immobile enemy.
One more lengthy scratch along its face; to add to the many that it already sported. It wouldn't be too much longer before her father would have to fetch a new one.
She held her position; comfortable distance away from the extremely scarred trunk, and hovering with clear intent on the knife held to her front. Never falter until the ease. Never waver, until she was sure her enemy lay dead.
This was combat.
"Good approach, and clever! Try to keep your balance a little better, though, and be a bit tighter on your retreat. You shouldn't keep your back to your opponent for so long."
She frowned deeply as the call from behind her signaled an ease. The ready tension in her shoulders abated as she calmed, and her open hooves settled on the ground, though her wings kept open.
She'd messed up. Her approach wasn't fine, because she'd come in far too fast. Her wings hadn't kept the proper angle to bleed and dam her speed. That was why her initial balance had been wrong. It didn't matter how she'd made up for it: she'd still made a mistake.
Why wouldn't he just reprimand her?
Do you believe you deserve it?
Her gaze fell to the knife in her hoof, and her eyes narrowed as her teeth ground. Small, and weak. Made by her own hoof: an aching process of dragging it over and over against another half-smoothed hunk of stone. Entire lines of listening to groaning, scraping sounds, and everything she made still seemed so dull.
Of course she deserved it.
Her father had shown her how, when she was very little. She could still remember: the one he'd made as a demonstration was so elegant. It was sturdy; a thick, strong thing. Looking so much like it hadn't just been ground from two barely different hunks of stone.
He'd done it effortlessly; talking endlessly to her the whole way through. How best to angle the strokes, and what flaws should be ground out. What imperfections to keep for an even weighting, how to smooth the handle for a good grip, how to temper the stone to keep its cutting edge without sacrificing durability; it was everything he'd known, passed to her.
She'd watched, and listened: enrapt. Every move burned into her memory and every sound labeled as essential. So sure in her mind that expertise was gained through study and observation, and that she was certain to have all the gained skill she would need when her time came. Mastery could be taught, and she would be its student.
And then she'd tried, and her half-thinned, uneven slab of rock had snapped and crumbled to dust.
And still, one out of every four knives she made would shatter on impact.
And still, her father would only laugh, and tell her that was the way of things.
Like he'd ever demonstrated failure to her.
You know that's not true.
"-na? Luna? Honey?"
She started, suddenly, as her father's voice registered. She looked up from her death grip on her knife: her father standing to her side, and so much closer than he'd been before. Staring at her: concern clear on his face.
She blinked, and let her head drop to hide the way her eyes narrowed. "Sorry," she muttered, shaking her head to dislodge the unruly, lingering clouds of anger. "We became distracted."
Her father chuckled, and she could tell without looking that he was smiling at her. Not mad. Not even chiding. "It's alright, sweetheart. We all get lost, sometimes."
She grimaced in a moment of intense, flushed heat, before she swallowed the expression and the hot feeling in her throat back down. Her eyes rose; an expectedly sullen look on her face as her father smiled softly at her.
Thoughts of smacking the expression away, if only to incite backlash. She pushed them down.
He gestured his hoof towards her, and her eyes focused on the knife held in its crook. Unmistakably crude and noticeably jagged. So obviously one of hers.
"Why don't you try again, with both this time? I know you're able," he murmured. Reassuringly. As if she needed the reassurance. As if she deserved it. As if he couldn't just- for once-
She blinked, and the red haze swept away. So easily. So practiced. She took the second knife offered to her in the same hoof without a word, and did her best to look her father in the eyes. If only for a glance. Just to calm down.
Soft, gentle eyes. Expectant and easy. Quiet and respectful. Understanding and loving.
Why do you deny him?
She looked away, and let her wings catch and bring her into the air with a flap. She turned between flaps as the second knife fell into her free hoof, and her grip on both weapons loosed, and reversed to blade-out.
All the while trying to keep a placid expression on her madly twitching face.
Ignore the empty feeling. Ignore it. Focus instead on the rising adrenaline. The expanding sense of expectant combat. Action. Movement.
This was her thing. It made her feel good. It made her feel right, like nothing else did.
She had training to do; there was no reason to be... freaking out over her father. Again. It never solved anything, it just made her mad. Made it hard to focus. Made it hard to think.
Yet still you think.
Okay, she wasn't dreaming- and she could use some quiet!
Their voice quieted, and the soft presence she felt in the very bottom of her skull faded away.
There was just... too much in her head, right now. No hard feelings, alright?
Luna's head dropped as she listened to the sound of her father trotting away, probably looking back over his shoulder with a troubled stare. Wondering why his daughter would act so coldly. Stay so distant, when all he did was love her.
What had ever happened to sweet little Luna?
Her jaw tightened, and her hooves raised into ready position between flaps. Keep a strong grip, but stay fluid. Close to the body, but loose enough to sweep in broad motions. Like an old flail; length limp and loose, but only as a conduit for the deadly head.
Nothing wrong in the heat of battle, or its facsimile. Nothing off, or worrying. Nothing weird, or confusing. No inappropriate voices making her doubt. Just action.
There was no call from her father, even as she waited for it. This long without it: she knew what that meant. This was on her. He did this sometimes, as a way of testing initiative. Usually he warned her beforehoof, but...
It was fine; she was plenty capable of starting her own fights. She could just... go.
Anytime now. She could just... start.
Just... start.
Go.
What are you waiting for?
She didn't know what she was waiting for.
The active tension in her shoulders bunched in a long moment of indecision, before she finally loosed herself towards the pole in one, great flap. So great, in truth: it carried her over the short ground far more than she'd expected, and she was already angling her wings up for a landing before she'd finished blinking.
The crest of her wings raised and pitched, and she felt her bones creak from the pressure as her draft was walled: leaving her speed almost completely caught in that one moment. She'd tried to stop too fast, and she'd been too successful.
Her chest compressed from her stomach to her back.
It hurt.
Her next breath was an excited, breathy gasp.
The ground met her hooves softer than it should've, but it left her balance completely sound as she drew struggling breath from her aching chest. One, two, and she was raising her knives with an excited grin.
Fighting with one knife was, however imprecise, relatively easy. It was essentially a game of cat and mouse, more than any other style of fighting was. It completely involved getting as close as was safe, striking, then simply getting away. There were few caveats besides whatever any huge, incredible caveats that combat situations would naturally throw in.
It was the fighting style of one who could move quickly, and take little. There were few ways to avoid wounds besides simple evasion; as even if one had the strength and speed to parry with a knife, it left so few opportunities for follow-through that it would just be far more effective in the end to fight with any heavier weapon.
Fighting with two knives was far different.
Luna swept out with her right hoof in a quick jab, scoring one shallow, half-puncture that broke shortly along the pole's side. She returned to position; then jabbed again: scoring an identical mark along its adjacent side. Her ever-moving hooves kept her light as she crouched in a moment, then hopped up; her aggressing knife following her as a long scratch running up that created an upside-down 'V' as she fell.
She drew as deep a breath as she could manage as she landed from her short hop, before her knife flashed out to strike against the low expanse of the scarred pole; standing and letting her wings drag her an inch away as her hoof returned to her.
Then, she stepped forward, and let her unused hoof lash out to drag a long score sideways from her center.
A pony with one knife was, regardless of their state of mind, fighting with fear. They wanted to keep contact with their opponent to an absolute minimum. They did not want to trade blows which would significantly impact their agility, because a pony fighting with a knife was, in many cases, relying heavily on their superior agility.
They got in, then got out.
A pony with two knives could not, at any cost, allow themselves to fight with any similarity.
It was a fighting style distinctly rooted in staying distinctly rooted. They could have no fear except for what they could use. They needed to stay close, and just attack. Never getting too far away at any time, for the fear of missing any quick opening.
Because a battle fought with two knives was one meant to last for a very short time.
Don't run. Don't let up. Keep attacking. Find your opening, and stay there.
Have the courage to stand tall, and attack!
Luna danced back; ducking under an imaginary swing as one of her knives sliced through an unprotected hock. Hard, wooden flesh rung hollow, and she was already moving sideways to dodge an anticipated downward swing.
Predict your opponent's moves, and do whatever you can to punish and disrupt them.
Luna imagined a shield held in a left hoof; its hard edge thrust toward her in a rough bash. She barely swept along its side; likely taking a nasty bruise as she stepped towards her opponent's chest, and the sword raised to slash at her. Her breath mantled and her knees nearly doubled as the knife kept close to her breast intercepted, and impacted the swing sideways; her body taking the brunt, but safely diverting its edge along her knife.
Staring forward, and close enough to her aggressor now to smell the phantom scent of sweat: her other knife flew blindly to draw a long gash against wood; rending out into the air where a shield-bearing hoof might've been. An echoed cry of pain deafened her, and the moment allowed her to slip away from reach.
Fighting with knives was a last-ditch effort, at any time. It was a combatant that put their life on the line in as many ways as possible, all to get as close as they could, to deal as much damage as was possible. If the fight lasted for any longer than was absolutely necessary, then it was time spent in extreme danger.
Every motion an opportunity to make them bleed. Every step drips away from becoming a misstep.
It was rough. Every moment was lived in the next three, hoping that the opponent wouldn't get wise. If even a single thing went wrong...
Her opponent was hobbled now, barely keeping their shield up even as bravely as they brandished their weapon. A fool. In a real combat situation, a smart opponent would look for an opportunity to retreat. Bravery was one thing, but it was no brave thing to fight with a lame hoof.
Blood dripped, and they seethed. Luna moved.
It was a safe approach on their weakened left, though their shaking shield raised for protection. No chance they could bash with that blooded hoof, all it did was blind them; covering her from sight as she feinted, ducked low, and danced to her left; skidding into their sight as they looked down at her in surprise.
A useless shield, and sword steady but so sorrowfully slow.
Luna's stance widened with force as she drew a deep breath from her gut, and her eyes bulged with the effort as she raised herself up as powerfully as she could manage. Her knives went unbloodied as the hard sides of her hooves instead crashed with a horrible thud against the flat edge of the blade, and the ill-kept shield.
It was an imaginary ache and shaking jitter that resonated up into her jaw, though the satisfaction she felt was very real as her opponent's arms were knocked out of balance, and they staggered back. Weakened, and primed.
Luna's next breath was quick as she coiled in on herself, low to the ground as her grip on both knives reversed; holding them blade-in as her hooves crossed, and drug a shallow line in the dirt. She watched, and waited in silent drips for the opportune moment; the one, single best time to act.
Tottering back and nearly falling; when to take advantage?
The tension in every muscle of her shoulders and legs was almost unbearable, and she thought for a heart-stopping moment that it would boil over, and she'd simply collapse.
The shield slipped, and fell from their grasp; their hooves stomping heavily as they doubled forward. Her chance.
All of the tearing, painful tension she'd forced herself to bottle released in one glorious moment of spinning momentum. Her hooves kicked off in opposite directions, and she let out a ferocious cry of rage as the movement sent her into a flurry of dizzy forward motion. Uncontrollable but for what she'd already managed to do, and what she'd set herself in place for.
Everything slowed, and she watched in a strange moment of cold, quiet reverence as one swinging knife tore a deep red gash across the great length of her opponent's chest. She made one half turn, and she watched from the opposite side as the other knife flew to match its sister right above.
The knife impacted flesh, and spongy tissue turned to wooden steel as the weapon snapped in uneven half from a quarter length down the point of impact.
And then, her wings pitched, and caught her.
She flew away, still spinning; though her turning body and flapping wings were quickly working to stop her sideways momentum. It was still a long moment before she came to a halt, though the world around her failed to match her change; everything a blur as her eyes intently fixed on where she was sure her fallen foe lay.
Slowly did the world come to a stop, and she was treated to a view of the solitary wooden pole sporting a myriad assortment of holes and scratches. Her stinging eyes immediately sought and found a particularly long gash, right where a standing pony's chest would lie.
And right above it, beginning at exactly the same, parallel point: a small, shallow pock-mark.
Not a guaranteed death blow.
Luna's back hooves made contact with the ground, but only solitary for as long as it took her to throw the shattered grip in her hoof to the ground; a cry of pure anger on her lips that died as she bit it off in a frustrated snarl.
She glared heatedly at the pulsing dirt as her teeth ground together, and the other knife she held also found itself unceremoniously thrown to the side. She stamped her hoof once, then twice as the first failed to make her feel any better.
She'd failed. She got cocky, and failed. She'd left herself open only as she was supposed to when the fight was won, and she'd failed to finish it.
She'd be dead.
A hoof rested on her shoulder, and she immediately shrugged it off. It came back just as quickly, and her ears laid to her head as though the subtle muffle would somehow block the words that would inevitably come next.
"That was very good, Luna. You were-"
Hot anger flared in her chest as she violently threw her shoulder back, knocking the hoof away as she stamped her own hoof back down; throwing her head to the side. "That was not good! I- We did not finish it!"
Her eyes flicked up, then down to the sad sight of her stub of a dagger. She bared her teeth, and kicked it away with all the force she could muster; sending the sorry thing off into a nearby bush. If she could, she'd set the bush on fire.
She settled instead for turning roughly to her father, staring at her with wide eyes.
Wide, sad eyes.
Her head dropped, and she stomped her hoof, once. One, hard stomp was all she allowed herself, and she reveled in the resonant feeling as she just... seethed.
Each breath in burned her mouth, and each breath out threatened to end in a pitched whimper. Over and over, as the endless feelings choking her throat warred inside her. Sharp pangs of regret and guilt; hard throbs of rage and resentment.
But her father was watching. Watching, with his sad eyes. Wondering what he'd done to make his daughter this way.
What do you believe?
They were back; how wonderful.
It wasn't a long transformation that turned the fire in her breast to cold, lifeless coal. It was almost in a few scant moments; the raging inferno just hardened, and dropped like a dead pit.
And she was left with it.
The last smoky breath coming off the cinders of her anger was temperate, and it allowed her to look up at her father with little shame. His eyes were as soft, gentle and sad as she'd imagined they were, and the sight nearly restoked the fire.
She pushed the anger that came so naturally into a tiny little corner of her mind, and appeased what remained of it by narrowing her eyes. "...We failed." Her voice was even, perhaps to a fault, as her head dipped again, and she stared darkly at her father's hooves. "If we had made such an error in combat, we would have died."
Her father took a breath, and her head whipped up. "Do not deny it!" She bit down on her lip as her father was left gaping open-mouthed at her, before he slowly shut his mouth. Her head lowered, and she stared at him just under the edge of her twitching eyes. "I should have been better. I should have been-"
Her breath caught, and she cringed back as her teeth accidently broke the skin, and she tasted blood. She turned away, not even bothering to hide that she was trying to hide an angry flush on her face.
She'd not used the greater 'we.'
She sucked relentlessly on her bloody lip as her father sighed behind her. She tried in vain to turn further away as his hoof came to rest on her shoulder again, but it accomplished little besides uncomfortably shifting the weight onto a bone.
"Luna, look at me."
It was hardly a command. It was soft, and slightly pleading. Like it always was. It never held a hard undercurrent, in loving spite of its gentle tone. It never implied a greater purpose behind the harsh words, because they were never harsh. There was never any light threat of retribution as consequence. There was never a fear of consequence at all.
He would never just be honest with her.
But still, she turned: lip in her mouth and her face hard.
Her father, still holding her shoulder, smiled at her, and she nearly bit back down. She abstained, barely; though hearing his voice made it a very fine line.
So calm. So gentle. "Luna... I'm not going to tell you that you messed up, because I know you've already told yourself that."
Of course he wasn't going to rebuke her. Of course he wasn't. Hearing it said out loud took nearly all the strength out of her, for the draining disappointment she felt. She'd already known, of course, but there had been some, small hope...
She shook her head, and tried to look petulantly at the ground. But then, a weight caught her head, and forced her chin up.
Her father was sat down now, and she could see beside her view of his hoof under her chin that he held a box in his lap. A pretty, dark wood box. Her eyes only caught on it for a moment before her father's voice drew her attention back to his face.
"Luna, you must know that you hardly failed? You may not have been entirely perfect, but expecting you to be perfect is cruel, and I don't ever want to put that on you." His hoof fell away from her chin, and she was left weightless for a moment before she threw her head to the side with an angry scoff.
But still, she watched out of the corner of her eye as his hoof came to rest on the box he held.
"I think you did wonderfully, as you always do, my little Luna. And... I think you passed with flying colors."
It hadn't even been a line since her father had left her with the box, but the changing of the light made the span seem that much longer. Made it seem that much quieter.
It certainly made her feel better.
She was sat with her back pressed comfortably against her training pole; the rubbed wood soft and nearly silky against her fur. She didn't like the feeling all that much, to be honest, but there was where she sat, regardless.
Holding the box.
She broke her stare at the dark, covered sky to look down at it, then. The glossy, nearly black wood that her hoof continually rubbed over. So obviously smooth to the touch, just as much as she would imagine looking at it. She was fairly sure she'd read or dreamed that it was called 'lacquer' or something.
"Lac-ker..." she murmured, as her hoof explored the sleek top of it. Even out of her inexperienced mouth, the word sounded as smooth as what it described. It made her feel smooth.
Her eyes scanned the surface: pristine and matte. It was, all in all, a fairly large-ish box; so much so that it had seemed large even in her father's hooves, as he'd presented it to her.
'This gift has been a long time coming.'
It had been a surprise, of course. Still sort of was. Their parents weren't in the habit of giving many gifts besides books; especially not anything individual. She'd almost expected him to end any sentence with 'and be sure to share with your sister.'
She chuckled quietly at the notion, as her hoof sightlessly sought out the broad latch on the box's side. This was not a gift that her sister could share in even if she were so inclined.
Which she wasn't. Celestia could lay her grubby hooves on this box the very instant that Luna died. No sooner.
The latch clicked open, and her eyes narrowed to slits as, for the second time, the contents were revealed to her.
Inside, held in a generous lining of the most beautiful black cloth she'd ever seen, were two, shining silver blades.
'These belonged to my mother, and they are her legacy.'
She had listened with sudden reverence as her father had explained it all to her, running his hoof along the edge of one blade, then the other in turn. Drawing her eye to wherever he stopped, as her mind ran wild with every new word.
Too hard to stay mad when she was confronted with such majesty.
His voice as he'd spoken to her was as soft as it always was, but oddly warm in a way she'd never heard from him. Not his usual aggravating warmth like a scratchy, downy blanket, but as a hearty, crackling fire.
For the first time as she'd heard in her life, her father had sounded strong.
'In times long past, my mother had served in a great army, as she'd told it to me. The most feared yet fearless army in the world: the vast and venerated Pegasi Legion. An army to never fall, for the boundless strength and courage of its warriors.'
'She'd served all her life, and she was bound by oath to serve until her death. And then, when her death-bound service came to an end, and she was left to live what life she could with my father, these are the blades on which she swore a new oath.'
Her eye was drawn first to the longer of the blades; while her hoof gently touched upon the cool edge of the steel. She could still remember so vividly, as if the feeling had never faded, how warm it had felt when her father had taken her hoof and guided her to rest there as he'd spoken.
'These are the specialty arms of an elite pegasus commander recognized by the Counseled Imperium themselves, and they carry with them a long and storied history. A history that we may never know, but that you now carry with you.'
'Do you understand?'
"Yes, I do," she murmured softly, as she had then.
Her hoof slid longingly down the blade of the first weapon, and came to rest on its decorated guard. An intricately designed half circle, eminently shaped to the apparent design of two curved wings that rose to meet and close at their ends. Lovingly crafted to the finest detail, such that she could hardly see the crease to the silvered lines on each and every silver feather.
'Do you see this design?' he'd asked, as he'd ran his own hoof over it. 'Each blade was individually crafted for her rank by the greatest smiths in their kingdom. Perfectly weighted to a soldier, and with luck, to their line.'
'Maybe a bit on the nose, but she had a way of making them look good.'
He'd laughed then; creased eyes somehow crinkling with humor as he'd run his hoof up the blade. She hadn't shared the amusement, then, and knowing now what he told her next, she still wasn't sure where it had come from.
He'd never even held the blade.
She was confused, then, and even now, she could feel a curious tilt to her brow as she considered his words. Still so confounding; to have owned such beautiful weapons all his life, yet refrained entirely from so little as simply holding them...
He didn't want to disrespect the memory of his mother, he'd said. He never thought it would be 'right,' he said: 'to profane such beautiful weapons.'
Because he wasn't a pegasus.
'These blades were made for the hooves of a pegasus,' he'd insisted. 'They were designed for the speed and finesse that only their trained warriors could command. To be certain, I could wield them with even decent proficiency, but...'
"It wouldn't be right," she whispered; closing her eyes a moment later and sighing deeply through her nose.
Maddening.
He'd told her then of the incredible joy he'd felt when she was born. Of the wonderful, endless times he would spend by her cradle's side, dreaming that this moment might ever come to pass. That the blade may finally, after a lifetime, see its use again.
To finally have an heir.
He'd said it so openly, but his voice had laid thick with low emotion. And... the thought still sat like a hot stone in her head. He'd always intended to gift these to her, all her life. From her birth, it had been a fact that her hooves would one day hold these weapons.
As her... grandmare had held them, and as her father had never.
And then, he'd taken his hoof off the blade, and urged her to pick it up.
She still didn't expect, hefting it into her grasp, just how light it was. Holding it reverently in one hoof, laid carefully across her other: it barely felt as though she were holding anything at all. Nothing like she'd expected cold steel to be. She could then, perhaps, be excused for her initial reaction.
It was intentional, as he'd told her the moment she'd held it aloft and looked at him incredulously. The Pegasi Legion had been mired in fame and infamy for the predominant speed of its soldiers. Even a single infantry unit could move with absolutely beautiful dexterity; such that a moving pegasus on the battlefield was rather uncommonly compared to a grand dance.
A swift and brutal dance of death, but a dance regardless.
The blade, then, was meant to hinder them as little as possible while they ducked and turned and twisted about. To that end: each weapon was itself a grave specialty; a pegasus trained to use these weapons may as well be one with them. Any other pony, in their sinful attempt to use them, may very well find themselves horribly off-balance.
An undeniable marking of ownership and an effective countermeasure to theft, all in one.
It was all certainly a very intoxicating image. If Luna could learn to use these weapons right, she'd likely be one of the few in the land that even could. There would be so few left with the necessary knowledge; to normal ponies, they may as well just be ordinary weapons.
Assuming, of course, that the great Pegasi Legion had indeed fallen.
'Do you see its edge?' he'd asked, as she'd carelessly swept the blade through the air. 'It's a thicker blade than is usual for a thrusting weapon, and its edge is made broader to more easily cut. It was designed to taper to provide as sharp of a stabbing point as possible, while also allowing its wielder to slash.'
She could see, now, what he'd been talking about, as she lightly ran her hoof along its bottom edge. The blade was a bit more narrow than the typical depictions of swords she'd seen- like a thrusting weapon- but still noticeably wider than typical thrusting weapons. It seemed effective enough for both, if its make was as sturdy as it seemed.
'An odd quirk of design that, as my mother thought, was made simply for its aesthetic. It works quite well, though; maybe its edge is tempered by its cool factor?'
It had taken her father's laugh to realize he'd made a joke.
She turned the sword over in her hoof, and her quick inspection of its blade ended. It wasn't a very long blade, perhaps only thrice or so longer than one of her knives. The sword was really more of a dagger, itself. Another odd quirk, as the sword seemed only made of them.
She'd noticed then, too, and she'd asked her father why the blade was so small. He'd told her, with yet another laugh, that it was because the sword was only a companion piece. It was only as effective as its other half.
And then he'd offered her to take the other weapon.
The sword- Her sword found itself put gently back into its place- where it didn't belong- as she instead moved her hoof to touch upon the other weapon in the case. The smaller weapon.
This weapon, unlike the other, was familiar. It was a dagger.
'The sword is effective enough on its own, but it is only complete when you hold this dagger alongside it.'
Then, she had held them both: but for now she held the dagger alone. It was very similar, especially when held so close, to the sword. It was, in many ways, its seeming compliment. They were both made of a gleaming silver, and their guards were both large, ornate, and exquisitely themed.
But she'd never seen a dagger with such a large guard, even in her dreams. The four beautifully crafted wings extended in solid pairs almost obscenely from both sides of its hilt; maybe half as large as the blade itself.
She'd asked why, as she'd taken a break from swinging it around. Her father had, in turn, explained the concept of a parrying dagger to her.
It was essentially the same function as she already used a second dagger for. While the sword was used offensively, to press and poke and slash at every advantage and opening, the dagger held about the body was meant to facilitate the advance. If a move was made on either side to put her in danger, the dagger could be used as leverage. To block and deflect attacks, and more importantly: to create potential openings.
This dagger was made for that, as opposed to her pretending her little stone daggers could serve the same purpose.
'The dagger itself is not the most effective weapon, but then, it wasn't exactly made to be. On any normal inspection, a pony may mistake it for a uselessly ornate thing. Do my old mother a favor, and prove them wrong.' Her father had laughed then, and she had joined him. An off feeling, as she couldn't remember the last time they'd shared a laugh.
And then he'd looked at her warmly, and she hadn't thought immediately to shy away. 'Its point is still quite lethal, though. I'd tell you to be careful if I didn't know you were more than capable.'
When he'd praised her, before, she'd felt only shame. She felt as though it would be easier if he'd berated her instead, for how highly she held his words. That he might as well be mocking her, for how commonplace the compliments were.
But then, as he'd confidently impressed upon her of her competence, she'd felt... warm. She'd felt deserving.
She'd felt competent.
Luna sighed, as the blade seemed to grow heavier in her hooves. Still barely heavy enough to notice, but symbolic weight often seemed heavier to her. Her sister, at least, never seemed so swayed by ails of the mind.
Can you be so sure?
Luna groaned softly; putting a hoof to her head as she grimaced. "Why have you been so talkative lately?" she muttered, before she replaced her hoof, and gently lowered the dagger to rest in its cloth. Safely stored as a good weapon shouldn't be, next to its sister. Brother?
"Sister," she decided out loud, nodding as they now laid side by side. There was nothing in particular that swayed her towards the feminine, except perhaps her own sway.
Or lack thereof.
She chuckled to herself as she sought out the latch on the side again, letting the top close with a solid 'thunk.' With a 'click,' the contents were once more secure, and something approaching peace warmed in her breast.
It was... something to continually stare at the two blades. A kind of interesting responsibility that she wasn't sure she'd ever felt before. A solid feeling of knowing, as she held them aloft, that somepony else had held them before her.
Her grandmare... A mare she'd never even met, that she was only just hearing about for the first time. Who had served in an army...
She'd held these weapons. Held them, and fought with them. Maybe even killed with them.
Luna could only stare at the top of the box, wondering whether she could justify opening it again. Just to see them. Just so she might touch where she had touched, and ask whether they had been blooded.
It was a heavy thing to consider, considering even so that it had, again, been less than a line since her father had left her.
'I understand that you're likely eager to test them for yourself, after all I've spoken of them,' he'd said, as Luna eagerly looked to her training pole. Already imagining the sweet sound of real steel whispering through the air, to impact so solidly to wood masquerading as flesh.
'But,' he'd chided her; guiding her away with a firm hoof. '-I think you also understand how precious these weapons are, and how they should be to you.'
It had been a disappointment, in the moment. Even now Luna still felt a little dejected, to have the most beautiful things she'd ever beheld so close but frustratingly out of reach...
"You deserve reverence," she whispered, as she slowly stroked along the top of the closed box. The next pot, her father had said: he would begin to first teach her of the ways of maintenance. To ensure the right of their weapon was the highest responsibility of a warrior, only second to their vows.
Once he was sure that their legacy would come to no harm in her possession, he would teach her to fashion stone blades as closely weighted and sculpted to the real make as they could make them. Even just for training, he'd said, it would be far too irreverent to use them in anything but real battle, or real sparring.
She hoped her father would spar with her sometime soon.
Luna's eyes slowly drifted close, and her head came to a steady rest against the pole behind her. She sighed; a sigh that trailed into a slight gape as her throat suddenly clenched awkwardly.
A strange... compulsion was beginning to overtake her, and it oddly wasn't a compulsion to cough. An off need deep in her throat: coming faster and more powerfully with each passing moment. Growing and spreading and warming across her face. Her jaw itching for words she could not imagine, as her ears were quickly growing numb to all but her own breathing.
The world was spinning away. The smells of the woods were growing tame.
This had happened before.
Her breath broke shallow for one take, and then, as everything grew glassy, she began to speak.
"May these blades never hunger but for flesh and blood, for that is their sole design. May they never want for battle, for I may never fail to provide in their name. May those who stood before me never feel shame in their passing, as I could never dishonor them. May those who see their end at these blades suffer no injustice, for there could never be one to stand against the many."
Another breath: too shallow to fill her chest. She didn't feel as though she'd taken it, and more empty, toneless words rushed from her heavily hanging head to fill the space unoccupied.
"This and more never spoken are the words and vows taken for we, the ones who serve. In reverence and fealty, in life and in death, to the army that could never fall. As they are the many, and are we: so together stands the Legion."
Her mouth was left gaping for yet more spiel, but the trance seemed to have ended for now. Her wild impulse to speak despite the solid sheet of her mind was fading quickly, and the world around her was regaining its color. Each breath was gaining tract against what had compelled her, and soon enough: the entire deep feeling was... just a memory.
A memory... that she needed to address.
Luna sighed; a full-body motion that cushioned her gently as she slid down the side of the pole. Her face made contact with the dusty ground somewhat less than gently, though her only tell of the pain was to hug the box as close to her chest as she could.
She moodily scanned the even flooring, a grumble catching in her throat as she spotted a creeping glow of light slithering across the clearing towards her.
The light had changed again, and it now made its way to her eyes as she groaned in discomfort; shutting them tightly to the unwelcome glow. Now her nice, cool fur was warming up...
That sun. Why couldn't it just... be more like the moon?!
Luna blearily opened her eyes, and rested her chin onto the side of the box as her thoughts turned to her shaded tree. "Maybe it's time for a nap," she mumbled, as she rolled onto her back. Staring up at the covered sky, showing no signs of white.
More than that, though: it was her tree. And, a little less than that: it was an alright tree.
Not too short, but not too tall, either; which was really too bad. If it had been a taller tree, then it would have been a much better vantage for seeing the sky. It'd be a better hiding place, too.
Luna cocked her head up at the tree from where she stood at its roots. This tree- her tree certainly left some things to be desired, even for as many needs as it fulfilled. She sometimes wished she could just change a few things about it.
Of course, if her tree was much taller, then it would be much worse for napping. That was pretty much all she needed it for, after all. In that way, its natural shade made for great, and more importantly: consistent protection from the changing light.
The sun and moon: the things in the sky that were inherently wrong.
Or, so she'd heard from her dreams.
Dreams that- as her waking episode of just a short line ago signaled bright, flashing red- she needed to delve into.
They'd been trying to get her attention for nearly the entire pot, and now they'd completely commandeered her mouth in broad waking. So blatant; they'd barely ever even spoken to her outside of her dreams.
Something was wrong, or at least noteworthy enough to warrant all of this. She and they needed to speak.
She didn't have long, though. The pot would be nearly empty soon, and her sister would be along to collect her for bed. She needed to take a nap in her tree soon, or she might lose her chance to bring her weird trance up.
Luna's wings flared, and she crouched low for a moment before she was taking off towards her favorite branch. It was just about the lowest nap-ready branch in the tree, which honestly hadn't been her first choice. Her first choice had been to lay as close to the sky as possible, obviously.
A choice that she had come to regret as her sister had become involved, as she oft did. It turned out that having a sister that enjoyed yelling to shock ponies into waking up mixed somewhat badly with having many poky, spiky, prickly things to hit on the way down.
And so, since she could not rightly throttle her sister to death as a solution, she'd taken to sleeping on the branch with the fewest other branches below it. A lovely, uncomfortably scratchy branch that she now alighted on.
Luna set down on four careful hooves, and in practiced motion: curled herself down against the rough surface. It had been a lot easier as she'd been younger, but she had the relative practice to make well-do.
She couldn't ever give up sleeping in the tree, though. Not until she left the woods for good.
Her back was now set safely along the decent length of the branch, with her head laid just so that she was able to see well into a large gap in the treeline. She scanned the bright, empty blue field now, as her splayed back hooves swept lazily about on each open side of the branch.
Her front hooves encircled around her stomach, and a contented sigh loosed from her lips as she soaked in the feeling of dangerous height. It was simply incomparable, and she'd long since given up trying to compare it to anything her sister would understand.
No, Celestia, it wasn't like just laying on the ground. No, Celestia, it wasn't like sleeping on the floor. No, Celestia, it wasn't like sleeping on a cloud- how would she even know, anyway?!
Oh, she'd had dreams, about it, sure. Like her sister's paltry dreams could ever compare to the majesty of Luna's... Celestia did not know what it was to truly dream!
Celestia just did not know... anything, really.
But maybe that made it a little better, in the end. This was something just for Luna, that Celestia or their parents didn't understand, and could only slightly meddle in. Yell at her to get down from there all they would: they could still never really grasp the peace of persistent weightlessness.
Like floating without end. Maybe like resting on a cloud, but probably better.
Like... drifting off...
And... drifting away...
And waking up.
She opened her eyes, and she was no longer on the tree. No longer felt the electrifying, constant threat of falling in the back of her mind. No more rough, scratchy bark on her back. No more slight smell of pine. No more... smells. No more feeling.
But still, she was weightless.
Luna closed her eyes, but did she? She could still... see, in a certain way, but it was more of another kind of seeing. But, then again... there wasn't really anything to see, and... she didn't really have... eyes, either.
You need no eyes to see here, as much as you need not dream in the waking world.
Their voice, so much louder in her head now than when she was awake. Like many different ponies' voices layered on top of each other, all speaking the same exact sentence with the same exact tones in the same exact moment. Nearly deafening in its dissonance, but still oddly quite distinct.
She couldn't remember if she'd ever dreamt alone.
You are never alone.
Her dreams weren't normally like this, this... scape. This... emptiness, shared with them. It was only when she slept in the tree, for whatever reason, that she would... drift like this.
Not believing herself in a scenario, or sinfully acting her fantasies, but just a vast... lacking.
No body to move in. No surroundings to see. It wasn't black, or white, or- oh, how best to describe it..?
It was waiting. There was nothing, except potential. It was empty, but only until she made it otherwise.
Or they did.
Your day has come. You received the gift.
'Day.' They used that word, sometimes, and they'd even taught it to her. It had been used, in far gone times, to denote the passing of time in relation to the now-defunct sun and moon. It felt odd in her mouth when she'd said it in the waking world, and it didn't feel much better to imagine it in the scape of her dreams.
A relic of the long-gone past, as many things they taught her were.
But this 'day,' for her, had apparently been something awaited. For her father, certainly, but it was a little surprising to hear that they had also been waiting. For her to receive 'the gift.'
Was that why she'd had that weird trance? There had only ever been one time that had happened, but it hadn't been nearly as... intense.
Your fates change, and you make it so. In the gift lies your key to the past.
The past...
If she still had the concept of a mouth, she would have frowned.
In an instant, the world bloomed. Color splashed into what little reality there was, and weight followed to give it shadow. Sound popped, and air dropped. Force, volume, action and equilibrium; the ground rose up around her. Plain and unadorned: it lay as a simple green field.
Vast and smooth; only barely ticked in places by patches of tall grass and two-dimensional trees. It was unnatural, but there probably wasn't any time to make something prettier. She'd even left the sky a boring white, instead of making it dark and painted with color as she usually did.
Luna's new hooves touched down to the ground made equally new, and a sense of being washed over her. She blinked, and her nostrils flared as new sensation of nonexistent smells rushed to seamlessly fill the void. Her ear flicked, but there wasn't anything to hear, anyway.
She took one deep breath to taste the tasteless air, before she let it out in a long, calming sigh.
Well, she was ready to see about this new, old past. Was it going to be something about the Pegasi Legion?
The gift.
Oh, right. She didn't think they'd meant that literally.
The recent memory of the cherished gifts she'd just inherited was still very fresh; enough that she could clearly recall nearly every detail of the weapons themselves. She'd unblinkingly stared at them for nearly the entire time they'd been in view, and now it was paying off.
It was... a tug. Yes, a simple tug at the image of what she desired.
And with a dragging sensation and a blink, they were before her. As beautiful and silver-laden as she'd left them at her training post. Winged, short, and oh so beautiful hanging there in the air.
My, but it was some pleasure to see them as a realized set. She loved the things she could do in dreams; the complete freedom never quite failed to make her smile to herself.
Luna felt so good, in fact, she might've even felt worthy of a little dance.
Yes, she decided with a firm nod. It was quite warranted to perform a small dance.
Luna raised her right hoof, along with her back left. She held them in the air for a moment, before she hopped shortly, and came down on the complete opposite hooves.
She did it again, then faster. Again, and her knees bent less rigidly. Only a few hops before her movements were fast and liquid as she barely touched the ground, and her mane was bouncing to a nameless tune that she freely hummed. Her wings unfurled, and they flapped along with her joy as she closed her eyes, and shook her head rhythmically from side to side.
It was safe to be awkward and weird in her dreams. She knew they would never tell on her.
But still, her weapons were waiting for her.
Her movement slowed as gradually as was safe, and all four of her hooves eventually found the ground at once. From there, it was easy, dream-bound as she was, to raise herself to an upright position.
Luna frowned as her hooves curled around their grips. Oh, they felt wrong. She'd held them before, if briefly, and they needed to be... yes, they were much lighter.
The picture of the weapons blurred, and she smiled. She swung her right hoof to the side to hear the absolutely lovely swish of the sword, then twirled the dagger around her left as she stepped forward with another downward swing.
She may have been able to do that in the waking world, but it was a lot easier in her dreams where she could just make the dagger stick to her hoof.
She took a quick backstep as the world shifted, and the phantom silhouette of a faceless pony stepped toward her: sword in hoof. They raised it to the blank white sky as she crouched low, and rolled to the leading side as they brought it down where she'd been.
Her rough dodge thankfully left no bruises, and she was fit to swing out with her dagger to cut into a ghostly leg as she righted. The deep slice through textureless skin sent her conjured aggressor down on one knee, and she quickly capitalized as she pushed herself to move.
They had barely begun to try to stand up before her hoof pushed down hard on their back, and they were sent sprawling as she pressed her full weight onto the pony upon which she kneeled. Luna grinned victoriously atop her place on her foe as she effortlessly twirled her sword around, before bringing it blade-down on the phantom's sword hoof.
There was no cry of pain to signal her victory as her blade pierced the ground, but the transparent sword fading from its meagre half-existence as it fell from the skewered hoof was an... acceptable replacement.
The battle was over, excessive blood spilt or no, and the phantom under her slowly melted away as the momentary rush of played combat drained from her system. She was left to pry her sword from its rest in a single motion as her hooves met the ground again, and she stood to hold herself in a confident stance.
Sword and dagger in hoof, and she could only hope they felt as good in the waking world as they did in her dreams.
The past.
Luna started at the sound of their voice; suddenly ringing out and making the world around her wobble. She nearly lost her hoofing, but only swayed momentarily with her hooves unintentionally slashing at the air around her.
She stopped herself eventually, and breathed a relieved breath that she hadn't fallen embarrassingly over. She looked up into the featureless sky with a wide stare, because there wasn't really anywhere else to focus on.
She hadn't forgotten, of course. They could forgive her for indulging herself momentarily, as she'd been denied in the waking world, yes?
Of course. The realm lies at your every whim. Your freedom is paramount, so here it has and shall always be.
Yes, as- as she'd thought.
Luna straightened her back with a sniff, and nodded to herself. It had been impressed upon her many times that she was in control, here. There was no way in which she could overreach while she slept, as she'd been told. For as many and as tall as the voice seemed, all they had ever done was pledge to her in various ways.
Of this realm, of themselves, of that moon itself, oddly enough. All very kind and generous to offer, but she felt sometimes that they came on too strong. It was all well and good to have promises of anything she could ever hope of, but it was another, harder thing to make do.
We need never to make do what must happen. The future lies as the past, and all things are so.
Luna pouted, and it was a moment of hesitation before she slowly drew the edge of her dagger across the back of her sword. The noise was horrible, but it did well enough to convey what she thought.
They were always so indirect. They would never just cut the theatrics and tell her anything. To wit: she still did not even know who or what they were, after all this time! She'd been a foal since she'd started hearing their voice, but for all their grand pledges of alliegiance, they still-
...They would never just be honest with her.
We cannot tell before it is told, and all we can offer in place are lies. This must be so, and you will understand.
Yeah, fine, but she didn't understand now. And there wasn't even anything she could do about it. The absolute best she was capable of was lying to her sister and telling her that the voices she spoke to were trees. And that was just to make her feel better!And, funny as it was, she was left the bigger fool; not even having an idea of what spoke to her.
It was... maddening!
But... she and they had done this before. Had this one-sided argument before, of stomping and lofty declarations. It would solve little, and they never seemed to show any signs of remorse or... feeling at all in response.
Really, there was just no point in demanding the things she knew she couldn't have.
The past.
Yes, of course! She'd... she'd not forgotten!
Luna sighed, as her head and her weapons hung limply.
Okay, she'd forgotten. She was ready to see the past, now. What she was just going to assume was the Pegasi Legion, because she'd never gotten an answer.
Your gift: a conduit. Time intertwines with dream, and the Oracle sees what has been.
Your gift: a conduit. Time intertwines with dream, and the Oracle sees what has been.
Luna's eyes were drawn down as a faint glow began to emanate all at once from the weapons in her hold, and her mouth opened to awe as she held them higher. Brighter and brighter they shone until they were casting warm glow on her face, then the world around her began to change.
When she changed her dreams around, it felt right. It felt natural, and easy. Simply melding her environment to the picture in her mind. She always fit directly in, because the mold had been constructed with a Luna-shaped hole in mind.
When they changed things, it made her feel a little sick.
Mild vertigo crawled up her neck as the world seemed to turn and twist uncomfortably. The pastel green of the field and the blank white of the sky meshed and ran together messily as the ground fell away in palettes, until she was left floating in a dizzying mix of brown, undulating color swirls.
Luna shut her eyes, because she could. She didn't need to see the new world come to focus, she was just fine to sit silently along for the ride.
Long moments passed in short breaths, and Luna felt in her breast the moment that the world around her had settled. Her eyes peeled open cautiously for the first frightened moment of quiet, but only before they flew wide open as her mouth followed suit.
Where Luna stood now... it seemed like something out of a fairytale.
Everywhere her searching eyes and whipping head looked, she could see nothing but endless clouds. White... glorious white, everywhere. But not the normal, average, formless clouds she'd become accustomed to from her wild fantasies, no- it was sculpted!Crafted!Built!
Clouds built up and standing sturdily at corners and parallels to yet more; walls formed to create large, inherently imposing structures. Buildings- made out of clouds! Assumedly stretching out to form whole rooms beyond the solid edges of what she could see from this odd corner!
Oh, but that wasn't every building. Buildings made so apparently solid that things had been stuck to them. Varying sizes of parchment on their sides, mostly, and what perhaps seemed to be a comically defaced picture of a stern faced pony on one side wall- the point was that they had been affixed to clouds!
The other buildings she could see were open-faced. Only determined as buildings to her eyes by the large fluted columns standing at even intervals around distinct, cloudy foundations that eventually held up some sorts of cloudy roofs. Whatever rooms within were beyond little steps of stairs or tiny ramps; some kind of warm light crackling out from the dark depths.
She'd certainly never seen buildings like that, but she'd never seen a city of clouds, before.
So much to take in... So much to immediately gawk at- oh, that open building had a large, colorful rug on its steps! How grand!
Oh, that, too! There weren't just clouds everywhere, there were things! Physical objects- wooden stalls and untended carts along the curving main street, signs affixed to walls too far away to read, and carpets and rugs and drapes and flowers and little bits of miniscule, inexplicable life, wherever she looked!
All on clouds. Standing on clouds, like she'd been told only pegasi could.
Luna turned- saw- walked to stand just under what looked to be a large gate. Because it was by-and-large the least interesting thing for her to focus on. Her hoof raised to explore the extremely large column that well dwarfed her, but she started suddenly as she realized her hooves were still... full.
Luna looked down in surprise at her hoof-held weapons, which she had somehow forgotten in the whimsy. She blinked, and focused, and suddenly there was a tightness and an itch around her hip. She tilted her head around to see the extremely shaggy brown cloth belt she'd dreamt up, and the two affixed buckles on either side of her haunches that she comfortably slid her weapons into.
Bumping a little scarily against her legs- but feelings were phantom here, anyway. Oh, the silver looked so good against her fur. So complementary. She could stare at that pretty sight for- no, wait- the column.
Her now-freed hooves reached to explore the snubbed architecture: fluted and white- because it was a cloud- and standing broadly away from its twin to hold aloft an even larger, triangular slab of cloud that ponies assumedly walked under.
Everything was solid. It looked- felt like ordinary material. If it wasn't all just slightly noticeably fluffy, she would have assumed it to be some kind of polished stone. Only slightly off-color as she was so close to it.
Architecture like she'd never seen it.
She'd seen castles, villages, ruins and plains- all in her dreams, of course- but this topped it all! If this was what the pegasi had to offer... she felt sorry for how awed she'd felt exploring the unicorns' so-said 'great' castle.
Walking around in big, empty halls; looking up in awe at the lavish displays of wealth and opulence. Paintings in color and sculptures of white and empty suits of polished armor on heavy stilts. Pretty enough and exciting to extreme degrees at the time, but it had all seemed a little hollow in hindsight.
That castle had been so big and filled with so much, but she'd never been able to shake the feeling that there was something lacking in every grand, glimmering hall. Something sterile.
This dream was better. Way better. This place felt alive!
From where she stood at what seemed to be the grand entrance to the yet-unnamed city, judging by the large gate and the surprisingly defined cloud street leading away from it, she could unfortunately see little of the city proper.
The tall buildings standing on platform sides of the cloud street that gradually rose off and curved to the unseen distance, two extra roads that split before the main branch that lead in opposite directions to the sides unknown, as well as many more single clouds dotting the sky above and beyond.
Many of which seemed to support buildings of their own. Standing like little islands in odd places that she couldn't immediately put a pattern to, and most too far away to properly examine. A few, to her merry wonder, even seemed to sport small falls off of their edges. Liquid mist speckling down in a sheet to shower down in places she couldn't see.
That 'sun' shining overhead as well. Making all the pristine whites and greys positively glow in the dapple. Catching on anything it could to bounce and reflect and get into every little crack of space where dark might've lurked.
It was all so fantastical! Nothing like boring browns and greens, and everything she loved about dreams!
It hurt her eyes a little.
Do you wish to know?
Their voice rung out, and all the cloud buildings shook just slightly. She was sure her heart would have seized at the possible danger of collapse, had she not been in a dream. As it was, she only wobbled slightly along with the false reality; easily recovering her balance and looking off into the sky.
She would like to know. She'd like to know everything there was to tell.
Very well.
You stand at the hoof of the Great Carved Arch. A monument to the ordinate crafts the pegasi would fashion from the very clouds themselves. Where clouds may be fleeting and known for ephemeral states: this gate to the grand city of the pegasi stood impermeable for years untold.
Their ancient and time-tested method for mixing clouds into solidity was a kept secret: long-lost to the annals. It was often thought that their grand constructions towered above the usual crafts of the other races: both figuratively and literally.
Luna turned from her inspection of the padded road she stood upon as their voice rung through her head, to stare again at the towering structure as context filled her.
The Great Carved Arch, huh? She could certainly see that the cloud columns that held the arch itself were carved, though not so intricately. Simply fluted, with a large, square base. The carvings that gave it moniker must have been on the great cloudy brick above.
Might as well see while she was here.
Luna's wings furled open, and she returned to four hooves so she could crouch low for a powerful takeoff. She kept her eyes firmly on the sight of the great arch as she leapt into the air, and the two pillars fell alongside. If she caught sight of the city from above, she'd never give the carvings a second glance.
And she did want to see them. History was why she was here, wasn't it? She liked learning.
She rose and rose: blades bumping against her legs with each flap. The distance was even greater than it'd seemed from below; only after what felt like lines did she come up to the side of the weighted triangle of cloud.
And as her eyes came it rest upon it, her jaw dropped, and her hooves flew to cover her now-gaping mouth.
It certainly was carved. Along the great, worn space of its largely edge-marked center lay no less than an entire mosaic of deeply cut tiny scenes and pictures and little ponies and strange creatures and... words.
In a language she... didn't understand. So, she was just assuming they were words.
It is a dialect forgotten in even the time which you stand. Only their highly learned could read what lay on this slab.
Yeah, okay, she could believe that.
Luna's one hoof creeped away from her mouth to cautiously approach one of the little cloud pictures on the large embedded mosaic, but she stopped just short with a flinch and a grimace.
Was it okay to touch?
This is a memory within a dream within your mind. You may touch anything you please.
Yes, of course. That was right. She wasn't actually... there.
Luna breathed a quiet breath of shuddering anticipation as she quickly glanced to her sides, and it was only when she was absolutely sure nopony was looking that she crept her hoof forward to rest gently on the surprisingly hard surface.
Reckless courage blossomed in her heart as she swept her hoof to the side; shamelessly besmirching ancient history as she squinted closer at the cloudy carving immediately in front of her from where she hovered at the slab's very end.
Some kind of... large creature, with wings? Sharp and spiky: hewn with rough, jagged lines, and standing on bent hind legs while brandishing big, pointy claws. Some kind of... was that fire coming out of its mouth in little pointy 'v's'?!
The flames had a little depth to them; it was a nice effect.
It seemed to be quite angry with the many little pegasus carvings that were trying to stab at it with little spears from behind their even smaller shields. Some kind of fight, to be sure; important enough to be memorialized in what she gathered was one of their most important landmarks. The text engraved just above it probably shed some light, for all the good it did her.
This etching and those on the far end depict and immortalize the bloody struggles between the pegasi and those they would oft war with.
This depicts their conflict with they who were first drawn from the earth: the dragons.
Luna shot a glance to the corner of her eye, before she returned to scrutinizing the relative depth of each little line. The soldiers had a lot of tiny nuance to them; she could almost actually see the slight tilt to their helmets with the way some of the lines were and weren't overlaid.
The pegasi fought with- the dragons? Weren't they the scaly things that were really big and really dangerous?
The timeless dragons feel age only as their weight, and there are as many young as there are few old. The guileless young feel the flame abreast and anew, and seek conflict as much as the pegasi. Those elder enough to grow weary of the earth and its conceit would have eclipsed this city.
Luna blinked, and leered at the dragon carving again. It was certainly much bigger than the little pegasi, but owing to the size of the wall, it was only about half as big as her. To eclipse the entire city? Well that was- oh, but she didn't have a good reference, maybe she should-
No- Luna stopped herself. Hoof laid firmly on the head of the dragon, and taking a solid breath. Once she turned around to see the city there would be no going back. She did want to see this history while she was interested, and that wouldn't happen if she got all excited about the sights.
She had a lot of dreaming to do; no need to rush it.
Luna's eye wandered to the side, to see what came next as her wings shifted her over slightly. The next freeform carving- as there were no lines denoting where one ended and the next began- seemed to be rather simple. It was a large amount of strangely defined pegasi wearing armor gathered around... a shield and a spear.
She could almost see the reverence painted into the dots of their eyes.
The great treasures of the pegasi used in their wars against the dragons. They became known though their lands and feared in another for the absolute dominance they levied 'gainst their foes.
Great weapons... A spear and a shield... Luna cocked her head, though she didn't take her eyes off the picture.
What were they called?
The fireproof shield: Netitus, and the scale-shattering spear: Stakbreh. One was crafted by necessity in the fires of war, while the other was a foreign gift made as symbol of mutual allegiance.
Netitus and 'Stakbreh?' One of those definitely sounded and felt a bit more foreign, to her. She wasn't even sure she'd be able to say that.
"Stag- Stagghk- b- brregh?" She tried, screwing her mouth in odd shapes, but it still sounded funny. She pursed her lips, and resolved to try again later.
Though it scarcely saw combat, it was named with earnest meaning in honest gift. The meaning was perhaps lost.
...She probably would have called it 'Scale Sever' or something. Maybe 'Wyrmrender.'
Luna rested her hoof over the small picture of the spear; the broad shield with its curved edges standing so stout next to it. Then, she shifted her hoof over the shield, as she stared at the long shaft of the very wide-tipped weapon. So weighted at the extremely long head's triangular top, to taper to its very fine point at the end.
They were heralded dragon slaying weapons...
Throwing the flames to one side across the scorchless expanse of the shield, to guide the spear 'twixt steel scales to pierce a heart borne of flame. With the strength and will to wield them, a pegasus might as well be an unerring arrow.
That was pretty cool.
Move to the other end.
Luna looked up from her inspection and befuddlement over why the ponies in this picture seemed to have distinctions, to gaze with surprise at the sky. They almost sounded... impatient.
Was she holding them up? Why did they want her to move on so fast?
She was surprised even further, and her hoof fell away from the wall as she was not immediately answered. Instead, the world around her seemed to... hum with... indecision?
...You must see the other side, then gaze upon the center.
This was... unprecedented...
Luna frowned, as she sent a forlorn glance at the picture she'd been fawning over. More little bits to the scene carved around it that she hadn't looked at yet... But she'd never heard them so hesitant before, and the absence of the constant reminder of infallibility was kind of freaking her out a little.
Was everything okay?
...No answer.
Best to do as they said. It wasn't as though she didn't trust them.
She let her wings carry her further: past many tinier carvings and a large, central carving that she barely gave a sidling glance to; eventually arriving at the other end of the surprisingly long cloud.
She gave another furrowed glance at the sky before she set to a steady hover next to the farthest picture on this side, and focused on it.
Oh, this one had many subjects. Another kind of winged creature, but these- and there were many- had little triangle beaks. They also had little claws, and were wearing distinctly different armor than the pegasi wore. They held little swords and spears of their own to match the ponies set obviously across from them. Some in the back had bows, too.
There were also many... dead creatures lying around wherever there was empty space. Odd detail, when there weren't any dead pegasi to match.
While the dragons were easy to imagine as simply 'ponies fighting monsters,' this side seemed to depict a more traditional battle. Ponies fighting... things that were almost like ponies.
Her hoof traced around and found one in particular near the head of the army. They were a bit larger than the other of their kind, and stylized in different, flashier armor. They also happened to be wielding an equally large greatsword over their shoulder with one hefty claw.
Probably their leader.
The pegasi sought opposition as a way of life, and the tribe of the gnarled griffons often came under fire as a result.
That... made it sound like the pegasi were attacking the... griffons? She'd never heard of griffons, before...
The pegasi fought with the marauding dragons as a matter of survival. They kept the far eastern border with pride and honor, to protect even those they wished harm. It was a duty. Yet they fought with the griffons from the north for merely petty, worldly needs. Such paltry reasonings: it can only be assumed that they sought the conflict for pleasure.
'Assumed?' Was that last bit... partial? Had they just admitted both that they weren't sure, and that they had... a bias?
We recite inexact words by the very generals that lead their battles. Bias exists inexorably, and there can be no account told without it.
She tilted her head up, and cast a leery glance at the sky.
...That response almost came a bit too quickly.
Luna decided to shrug off the oddities, as she returned to exploring the disconcertingly smooth surface. They had seen their share of strange behaviors in the past, so an escalation of it wasn't completely shocking.
The pictures, though. This one had far more text above it all; hanging in the sky while the armies clashed below. Blood spilled on tired earth, and an epic spun for it.
What did it say?
There is no need to know.
Luna nodded absently as she idly touched the slab, before what had been said actually occurred, and she frowned.
There was no need to know? Alright... what if she wanted to know?
You do not want to know what is scribed here.
Something sparked and alighted in her breast; her mouth fell agape and her brow creased and bent. She glared openly at the innocent etching as though it had wronged her, but she knew the gesture was conveying to its proper recipient.
Well, this was something, wasn't it? They were nearly outright refusing to tell her something she'd asked. Somewhat politely, but still.
Luna took a deep breath in an attempt to calm the twitching anger rising on her face. The words were there, and they piqued her interest. They described something about this battle or the griffons in general, and she wanted to know.
Make it an order- tell her what had been scribed. This was nothing of great importance, it was just words on what was probably a long-since crumbled cloud wall! What could possibly be written here that would apparently rock her world so?
They were silent, but Luna knew how it would end. She'd not forgotten this time: her dreams were hers, and they had made themselves subject. They could not back out and be so abject at the same time; they would have to either renege on their haughty fealty, or just tell her.
Luna puffed a heated breath through her nose, as her hooves crossed. Her weapons' exposed flesh felt hot against her fur, though she knew she couldn't slash at a disembodied voice.
She was waiting.
...Very well. It is the duty of the Oracle to witness.
Luna smiled, with a hard edge. That was more like it. Now, what had been scribed about the griffons? What was the history, here?
This etching depicts the end of the Slaving War, so named by the pegasi. The conflict began as rumors spread of the griffons having part in the disappearance of several known pegasus maidens, all of which were steadily denied by the accused. Stern inquiries made at tense borders turned to thrown accusations, and personal grudges soon escalated to organized combat, as it oft did.
The so-called slaves were never found, but captives were taken on both sides after each and every skirmish. It was considered a sort of balance by one, and an act of spite by the other. Such conduct made peace talks impossible, as neither the griffons nor the pegasi would concede their wrongs and consider their release.
Until the griffons suffered their last loss of the war, and five living regiments of forty griffons each were taken prisoner.
Forty each? Two hundred griffons taken alive? That was impressive. She was assuming the pegasi used them as leverage to end the war?
In the long-awaited talks that followed, a meeting was arranged. Two celebrated leaders of kinds long aggrieved would meet on even terms, and each accounted prisoner of war would be graciously released to their homes. It would have struck a staggering blow for lasting peace between the races, had it gone as dreamed.
'Had it gone as dreamed?' It... didn't?
The venerable leader of the griffons came with few armed numbers and many prisoners as had been agreed, as seemingly did the leader of pegasi. First was brashly called that the pegasi would be released, and, perhaps in a moment of rare empathy, the griffon leader accepted.
Luna was... beginning to get a bad feeling, as she stared uneasily at the little picture of the big griffon at the front.
What... happened?
The freed pegasi took joyfully to the skies, and as they fled home, the griffon leader called for the according release of the captured griffons.
The response of the pegasi was to reveal an army in wait. What seemed to be their entire standing force: shielding behind them the slaves they had promised in good faith to release. The leader arrived to the meeting was indeed a high general, but not their Grand Imperior.
The last battle of the war had been in the capture of the griffons. What followed in those moments was a slaughter.
The griffon leader was known and respected for their near-unconquerable strength, but even they could not stand against such a vast many. The few griffon soldiers offered as escort fell within moments, and even for as many casualties it took: soon was the griffon leader brought low.
And forced to watch, in their final moments, as the many captured griffon slaves were individually brought before their broken leader, and dishonorably slain. Hours passed, and as no more remained to bring forth: the leader was left, bound with rope, to bleed on the field amidst the piles of the fallen.
So ended what the griffons would come to call The Bittering, as they lost their leader and many of their own. Thus: the pegasi would not see conflict from the battered tribe for many years. In this way, it was believed that the planned betrayal had its effect.
For breaking their spirits had been the intent.
Luna felt sick, which she hadn't been sure was possible in her dreams. Her eyes had long since squeezed shut, and her hooves laid over them to block the horrible images that her mind conjured as they spoke; shaking her head to dislodge the thoughts, but she could still see-
The bodies. The trampled. The poor, and the sick: their throats presented and slashed like animals. The grounds of peace sinfully sanctified with the blood of belief.
What must it have been like? To have the earnest promise of honor and trust, only to die like a worm: laying among the dead who had put their trust in their leader, whose own trust had been so unexpectedly misplaced?
How could this have happened? How could... this be the grand Pegasi Legion? Was it- Was it just a long history of blood and betrayal? Was it all like this?! Horrible acts of murder and mayhem immortalized as glory and greatness?!
Was this her legacy?
Her hip felt heavier, and she shivered behind her hooves.
She... didn't know if she wanted them, anymore...
We had believed it necessary to spare you this horror. It was reasoned that you would not immediately see this specific history for the lesson it came to be known for.
Her eyes felt wet as she let her hooves fall to her sides, and her throat clenched as she took a shuddering breath. All she could look at was the little picture of the unnamed griffon at the head of the 'army.'
Some army. Some battle. All glorified lies.
What lesson could this possibly teach?! That the Pegasi Legion were big, murderous jerks?! Telling pretty lies about glory on their big, fancy cloud pictures?!
They'd pictured this as a fight.
Something burned in her throat.
In the time of its etching, this carving was indeed seen as a great triumph. Something to hold as a glory, yes. But in time, eminently within the time which you stand, it came to be known as a tragedy. A black stain to mar the long fabric of their history.
These events were reviled, yet still repeated; for the belief that history must be known to be avoided.
Luna sniffled, though the clenching pain in her stomach did little to abate. Like she had something to throw up, but... well, she was dreaming.
It was all so horrible. Even if she believed all of that, it wouldn't erase what she knew. It would not save those lives cut short. It would not spare her the pity.
Such a pretty city. Such an ugly face.
Look upon the corner. The very farthest part of the corner.
Luna blinked, and sniffed again as her eye traveled sideways: to the corner.
She looked away. Back to the griffons. What did she care about history, anymore? It was probably all rotten. Who knew what grave injustices the Legion had delivered to even the dragons? How did she know they weren't victims, too?
What things must her grandmare have done?
We beseech, in plain terms: look upon the corner.
Her eye slid slowly back.
Fine. She would look upon the corner, and then she'd... wake up or something. She just... she didn't want to know more about history, right now. Her stomach seemed very intent on doing backflips, and the thought of any more view-shattering reveals was...
Ugh.
Luna listlessly dragged herself over to where the slab ended in a point, and stared broadly at the space there.
There was nothing there. What was she looking for, besides the admittedly excellent craftsponyship?
It is a small passage written in the cleft. Peer.
'Peer.' Sure, she'd peer.
Luna flapped an inch closer, and peered as she'd been directed. What was she looking for? In the cleft..? Where was she supposed to-
Luna's eyes widened, and her breath stalled as her hooves flew to her mouth. Felt like her wings might, too.
In tiny, almost ineligible script: written so closely to the meeting edges that it was nearly impossible to notice.
'We rise above'
Plain, readable Ponish.
Defacing this monument such was tantamount to high treason. Not even the deplorable and vain would have considered making but a mark upon the structure. It is unthinkable to lay hoof upon this surface without sanction.
This was written by a Grand Imperator in her early youth, and it was never discovered in any lifetime.
Another shock wore through her system, and this actually did lock her wings for a moment. She'd turned over in the air and begun a freefall before they started again, and she turned over in a flip as she righted as roughly as her dreams allowed.
Luna hovered, still staring unblinkingly ahead as her haunches curled close to her stomach.
She didn't know what a Grand Imperator was. She... had an inkling, but...
Go to the center.
Luna's eyes, still wide with unthinking shock, moved immediately to the center of the slab that was now a fair bit above her. Her wings carried her there without her wanting it, and she nearly stopped several times before she eventually got there.
Grand pegasus heroes fighting the vain and vile dragons on one side, and fallen figures stabbing the backs of griffons on the other: here stood the carving that bridged them.
A very tall chair with an even taller ornate back, upon which sat a faceless figure. On either side of it stood ten smaller, but equally sized chairs; twenty in all with their own faceless ponies sitting atop.
The figure in the middle was known as the Grand Imperator, surrounded by the high Counseled Imperium.
Her father had mentioned them. They were... must've been the rulers.
That is correct in one definition, yet lacking. Look closely upon the carving, as a whole. Therein lies a distinction to be noticed.
What was- There wasn't anything noticeably different... The... Grand Imperator had a bigger chair?
Luna squinted, and sighed. She was tired. She wished she could nap in her dreams... Was it... oh, she didn't know. The Grand Imperator looked a little... darker than the Imperium around them?
The carving of the Grand Imperator is all that remains of what once was carved here, as there had once only been they.
In the time of the Slaving War and the many years before and after, the Grand Imperator stood as the only ruling force in the Legion. The highest authority. All decisions were made of them alone. Every tactic flew from their mind, and every action lay upon their shoulders. There could be no conscience for they who stood above the many, for it had been designed that none could deign to rebuke.
And yet, time passed. Hearts grew softer. Clearer eyes eventually showed the Slaving War to be The Bittering it truly was, and a young, reckless Grand Imperator made a decision that would irrevocably change the Legion for what time it had left.
Luna squinted closer at the picture of the faceless pony atop the largest throne. The other members... their faces looked blank, but the Grand Imperator's looked kind of... worn. As though it had been... altered.
That was notable-
Luna's back seized and she threw her head up in a silent scream as sudden pain tore through across her face like hot claws. The world around her fizzed and popped, and sucked itself away. There was no longer air under her wings, or metal at her waist.
Luna was gone.
This day was one she'd earned.
Her hoof raised to touch on the picture of the Grand Imperator for the second time in her life. Eyes made out of tiny, sparkling jewels, and a thin line of a frown. Surrounded on all sides by pegasi lying flat on their stomachs in worship.
Sitting so high above the entire city, even just here on the Grand Curved Arch. Untouchable, under high penalty. Infallible, by design. Only ever to impart, and never to be questioned or rebuked. Flawless.
Her hoof swept down to take the tiny chisel off her belt.
The tiny jewels came out into her waiting hoof with satisfying force, and she smiled at the hollow recesses left behind. Little rubies may have said some crap about 'fiery eyes,' but the symbolism was still pretty disgusting.
The tiny chisel was put back into her toolbelt, the rubies into her pouch, and her hooves found an even tinier needle-head pick and a nubby square of blue cloth.
She took a deep breath, full of the beginning scents of evening feasts for the celebration, and set herself to work.
Seconds of picking and sweeping turned to minutes turned to an hour, though her hard edged squint never once left her face. Not even as she took a moment to swipe a bead of sweat from her face: accidently smearing a dab of construction cloud onto her blue cheek.
She simply kept working, even as the intrinsically charged material stung her cheek. Picking and smoothing and smearing cast off cloud onto her hooves. Toil.
She'd been told, repeatedly, to let one of the faceless worker bees do this. That the hard part was over, and she should just sit back and reap what she'd worked so hard to sow. The paperwork and the yelling and the endless, endless lobbying all over and done with; now it was time to rest, and focus on starting some new war effort.
Sitting back and watching was, as they'd said: 'befitting her station.'
She'd told all those hoof-lickers very kindly to bite her. She'd grown up living day to day, taking every hard-labor job that would have her, and then she'd made her name serving those Tartarus-damned fools in battle. Now they wanted her to sit around looking pretty for the soldiers just because she'd been given some bigwig title?!
Fat freakin' chance. Hurricane didn't get to where she was by sitting on her hooves, or by listening to anypony without a uniform and a scar. Especially not spineless cloud-kissers that had only seen easy nights on a border patrol, and cushy Seat-side jobs whispering into bent ears.
And now, she didn't have to listen to anyone.
She smiled as she worked, her face blotted with messy grey and white.
Nopony was infallible, and there would never be another Bittering.
She couldn't wait to tell all those worthless, egghead 'advisors' who she was putting on her new Counsel.
Luna was back.
Her back curled with waking shock as she sat suddenly up; a long gasp on her lips as instincts screamed that she must've been falling.
She sprung up with a powerful beat of her wings to make a last-ditch effort to save herself from falling and splatting, but... oh.
She was sitting on a cloud. Had been.
Luna hovered on unsteady flaps above the simple little cloud she'd been sat on; staring widely at the conveniently placed surface that... hadn't been there.
We provided.
Her chest fluttered with unsteady little breaths as she cautiously alighted on the cloud; putting one hoof down followed by all the rest, and then her butt.
Okay, she was sitting. Sitting, and not falling. Not falling, or dreaming. Within her dream.
What... How had...? Who was...?
She shook her head, and shut her eyes.
No, she knew that last one. She... she knew.
That had been Hurricane. Sheer Hurricane: the Grand Imperior of the Pegasi Legion.
She'd been... Luna had been... her.
Seen through her eyes. Not even just- she'd been... she had been her. Thought her thoughts. Acted as she'd acted. Lived in that scene as her. Made threats against annoying snobs as she had, and- and she'd shared those thoughts of violence.
Shared the feelings. Annoyance, indignance, exasperation, and a very old flame that said tie their wings and throw the misers off the roof of the Hall.
Luna seethed, and her hoof flew to her head as the off-color voice hurt. Like a piece that didn't fit in her head.
This was all... very new.
It is the duty of the Oracle to witness.
Luna looked up with one squinted eye, and tilted her head questioningly.
They'd said that earlier. They'd called her... the Oracle?
A new title. What had happened to calling her 'the Champion?' Not to say that she missed it, but... she could hardly keep up with all the visions and whatnot if they kept changing everything around...
You are our Champion. You act as the Oracle.
Her other eye opened as the stinging head pain dissipated, but she couldn't get the uneasy look off her face. She leaned back on her haunches as her hooves met to grind against each other restlessly, and she noticed belatedly that her weapons were no longer strapped to her belt. Which she also no longer had.
She probably wasn't in Cumulanum anymore- oh, she'd taken that from Hurricane's memory, too. How nice.
Well... if she was getting this right, and she was pretty sure she wasn't... she was their Champion, but... her- what to even call it- duty? It was her duty to act as... an Oracle? For... ponies?
Oracle... That was... somepony who saw things, right? What did all of this have to do with- ugh, she could barely even remember, anymore...
We shine Heavenly Light through you as a lens, and the past becomes clear. You will walk as They have before, and know of that which is lost. Our Champion walks the earth acting as the Oracle to all those in need, and all those in ignorance.
She is the legacy of the past. She will guide the future.
She... This was all... They meant to say...
No.
No. She... she couldn't do this right now. Not after... which did she even pick?!
Luna sighed, and fell fully to her back. The fluffy material hugged her sides and cushioned her head, as she stared lethargically up at the fake sun above her. Not another cloud in the sky, besides.
She wanted to wake up. She wanted to go home, and go to bed, and just... not dream.
She didn't want any more grand expectations to be let down with guilt and betrayal. She didn't want any other ponies taking and talking over her mind. She didn't want... she just didn't want any of this.
Wake up. Let her wake up. Just- just let her wake up.
She wanted to wake up.
We heed your every call, and it shall be so.
Wake, Oracle, and think no more of that which troubles you.
Celestia's heavy hoofsteps trod through the lush undergrowth in a brisk-yet-comfortable trot, as golden light speckled down through the canopy above. Well-kept pink mane bouncing to time with her step, and unconcerned eyes flicking naturally to and fro at whatever caught them.
She was off to find Luna again. She was off to bring her sister back for dinner, because the layabout had no concept of time. It felt as though lazy Luna was always late. Never on time. Always sleeping. Bent inexplicably on wasting all the time she could. Absolutely no sense of urgency.
It wasn't odd.
Luna had been sort of down lately, though. Spending even less time in the cabin than usual, while she already spent so little of her ever-abundant-time there. Off, wherever she always went when she wasn't sleeping or making trouble.
She'd come home one pot with a weird aura of melancholy about her, even with how melancholic gloomy Luna could sometimes seem. She'd looked Celestia up and down with glimmering eyes, then turned away with a too-heavy-for-such-a-little-pony sigh. As if she couldn't stand to look at her.
Then she'd gone to bed. Before dinner.
It wasn't that odd.
The light shifted as Celestia passed under a particularly overbearing tree, and it was suddenly dark even as she stepped out. It was of little concern, even as the shadow persisted and worsened. It was a simple moment of adjustment to the gloom, and she was off again.
It wasn't much longer after that before Celestia came up on the tree's clearing. Loudly and obviously, because she didn't have a reason to hide from her always-obstinate-sister. Brushing past a lesser tree to free herself into the large circle of space around her sister's favored resting place, and craning her head up in preparation of spotting her.
She made her way to the tree's base, looking expectantly up at where Luna would normally be sleeping. The lowest branch, but still hidden amidst the leafy greens. A good cover from prying eyes; except for her silly little sister's tendency to leave her hooves and tail hanging.
All she had to do was squint, and look for that little spot of blue.
Nothing. She wasn't there.
Frowning, Celestia tilted her head to the side. That was odd. Her sister always napped in this tree.
Was she somewhere else? Maybe, but Luna usually napped around this time. Between lunch and dinner on the edge of the latter; it seemed to be the perfect time for little blue pests to wander off and sleep against-better-judgement.
...There had been that one time that Luna had been hiding in the bushes behind her, and jumped out screaming like a madpony when she'd gone by...
The thought that her sister might've been lurking nearby to pop out and surprise her was suddenly very compelling, and Celestia put herself on wary guard as she turned and scanned the area immediately behind her. Luna herself was surprisingly sneaky, but the color blue was less so. Especially in the forest, and even in the dark.
All she had to do was keep cautious eyes and ears on her surroundings, and whatever little game Luna was playing to waste her time was sure to end soon enough.
Was she paranoid? Not even a-little-bit-but-really-a-big-bit. Luna was a mischievous little filly who delighted in playing tricks. It wasn't odd to imagine that she might just be hiding from her sister.
It seemed like the kind of thing she'd do. There was nothing odd about it.
Celestia's scrutinizing gaze raced past every little detail and discarded every useless little bit. Nothing in the environment was noteworthy or interesting, and she was beginning to think that Luna might've been hiding somewhere above...
The light shifted again as she searched, and it was once more bright. Celestia smiled, as the clearing suddenly became shaded in glorious, golden light dappling down from the broken canopy. Easy to see, and hopefully easy to spot her sister.
Then she saw the branch.
High up: one of the branches on the outlying trees was broken. Snapped at its thin base and hanging sadly by a splinter.
That was odd.
She couldn't keep her mouth from gaping slightly as she slowly walked to stand under the damaged wood; staring up at it with a squint and a worsening brow all the way.
This wasn't right... The trees in the forest... she hadn't ever seen them damaged...
What could have caused it to break? Had something hit it?
Celestia blinked, and squinted harder. It was one of the highest trees in the clearing, and the branch was decently far away even while standing under it, so it was a bit hard to make out... Was that...?
Speared through one of the offshoot, bare twigs: a bent, blue feather.
Celestia's eyes widened.
Her head craned down, and now, she could see, in her rapidly zeroing focus: just beyond the first broken branch was another. And then, another just below it, and another just past it.
Her eyes raced from one to the next as her breathing slowly picked up, and then doubled as she spotted another blue feather resting in a cleft of one of the lower broken branches.
It was a trail. A long trail of broken branches high in the trees that was very clearly going down. Forward, away from the clearing, and down. Feathers lying torn and caught unevenly on every other branch, and-
Her head fell to the ground scant hoof-lengths in front of her, and the entire world twisted down on itself until all she could see was a single blue feather in the middle of one of the many scatterings of wood chips she could now pick out on the path.
She found herself next to it, and she couldn't really remember walking over as she could only stare; mouth fluttering unsteadily open for a stretching silent note, and eyes straining and reddening as she couldn't blink.
Little specks of red spattered over the fine bristles.
Luna.
The light shifted. It became dark.
Her hooves were moving- pounding through the undergrowth before she'd even begun to think of anything else except the exact last time she'd seen her sister.
It had been just after waking up.
Her fast falling hooves stung and ached as she galloped through endless mounds of tiny shards of broken wood. Fallen like breadcrumbs from the long trails of broken branches above her head.
She and Luna had had an argument about Luna's sleeping habits, because Luna had kicked her in her sleep.
Her eyes strained to even pick out the faint outlines of the branches in the darkened canopy, as they appeared to grow more frequent as the trail neared the ground. It was too dark to see if there were feathers. Too dark to see if there was-
Celestia had called her a do-nothing. Luna had called her pretentious.
Her ears pounded with the worsening sound of her own heartbeat, as the shadowed growth racing past her grew hazier. When had she ever run this fast?
She tasted something salty. Her cheeks were wet.
Luna had left, and Celestia had stayed to read. There had been nothing wrong. There had been no tell.
There had been nothing odd at all.
Celestia burst out into a clearing, and there were suddenly no more branches to follow. No more feathers to focus on. All there was, was the sound of a babbling brook somewhere close, and the scent of something foul in the air.
And the dark, open sky above her.
Chest heaving: Celestia tried desperately to peer into the overbearing gloom as she stumbled forward sightlessly. There had to be more. There had to be Luna, somewhere. Anywhere.
Water splashed at her hooves, and she stopped with a shiver to look down at the cold sensation.
And then, the light shifted. Like a string being drawn: a curtain of golden light slowly drew across the clearing from behind her. Trailing softly along the ground as it revealed her standing in a stream. Pebbles at her hooves.
Celestia panted from the exertion as she stared glassily down at the water running around her dirty white hooves. It almost felt nice, after she'd run through so many splinters. Almost cleared her head. The cold: making it easier to think. Maybe she'd jumped too fast to quick conclusions. Maybe Luna was just-
The water ran red.
Celestia's breath caught in her throat, and she was suddenly unable to breathe as she watched with horrifying focus the sight of the river's rushing water beginning to take on a red hue. A red hue that darkened the longer she stared at it; her neat fetlocks even taking the tint the longer she stared.
An animal. A wounded stray. A crashed bird. An unfortunate traveler that had somehow wandered in.
All she could hear was her heart. She didn't want to look up.
She did.
There was a large, flat rock set partially into the bed of the shallow creek just ahead of her as it bent around.
On it lay a pony.
On it lay Luna.
On it lay the splayed form of her sister: blue fur bathed in shining, golden light.
She wasn't moving.
Everything seemed to slow, in that one, awful moment. Every little sound so clear to her ears, that she was sure would be entirely recognizable no matter the time passed. Every miniscule detail of the scene tucked away in little tidy bits like perfectly captured puzzle pieces, just waiting to be put together at any point she wanted.
At the center of it all lay her sister, and the shallow little pool around her head that was dribbling off the rock into the stream.
Red.
A scene she would never stop seeing.
"Luna," she whispered, once; her head shaking slightly as she stared unblinkingly forward with wide eyes. This couldn't be happening. She was dreaming. This was a nightmare. She was sick, and she was imagining it all. The sound of her mother calling her name would wake her from this trance any moment now, surely?
Somepony had to wake her up. Somepony had to make this okay. Luna had to be okay.
She had to make Luna okay.
"Luna!"
Celestia's hooves moved before she was aware, and the sound of her own hoarse scream battered at her ears as she splashed messily through the stream. She panted with the exertion she could feel over the pale flush on her face, as every step seemed heavily dragged by the cold water lapping at her stomach.
She had to get to Luna. She had to... do something! Anything!
Luna was facing towards her on her side, but even as Celestia came painfully closer she could barely make herself focus on anything except that puddle of red ooze. She couldn't even see Luna's face: her mane, limp and wet, had fallen to obscure it.
Was she even breathing? She had to be.
She reached her.
Celestia stepped without thinking into the deep pool of red, and recoiled with a gasp from the nauseating squick. She stepped back; dipping her hoof back into the cleansing water as she just... stared.
The scent. Heady. Thick. Foreign.
There was too much- Where would she- How was she going to-
She didn't want to touch Luna's... blood.
Celestia found herself walking in a wide circle around the rock onto land; approaching Luna from behind to skirt safely around the leaking liquid covering the incline of the rock. But now, she was faced with Luna's splayed wing.
She found herself afraid to even approach, as she stared with a trembling lip. It looked... wrong. Luna's wings were supposed to be... straight, not... bent up and over like... like that. Lying flat against her side and trailing tips onto the rock... from the wrong side.
Not riddled with tiny shards of wood. Not missing dozens of feathers.
Even just her side was covered in little angry gashes; oozing red that was beginning to run down into her fur. She could only imagine what her front looked like.
How could this have happened?
Celestia walked around again, to just approach Luna's head. That was where the... damage was. That was where the least resistance was.
Celestia blinked, as her hoof came to rest just beside where the blood seemed to be leaking from... from her sister. She blinked again, and suddenly Luna was smiling at her. Laughing at her. Telling her it was all a prank. Jumping up and running in circles around her.
What a fool she was. Of course it had all been a joke. Luna wouldn't ever-
Celestia blinked, and her hoof was wet. Cold. The scent in the air.
Something leaked down her cheek as her chest shuddered with shallow breath, but what did she matter, now?
Luna needed her.
She knelt onto her knees beside Luna's still-prone head, and reached a hoof out to her sister's unmoving form. She bit her lip as her hoof stopped just short of her head, and after a moment of indecision, moved over to her shoulder.
"Luna?" Her voice was thick with the tears she couldn't stop, but she had to try. She needed... she needed something!
Luna didn't respond. She still couldn't even see if she was breathing.
Weakness stabbed at her breast as her head slowly rested against her chest, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she allowed herself a single, shaking sob.
What was she supposed to do? She... she needed somepony. She needed her mother, and her father. She- She could go get them...
But she couldn't leave Luna like this...
Celestia looked up again, and a heavy sniffle ended in a wet sigh. She shuffled through the cold pool of blood, to rest as close to Luna's side as she could. Then, she tentatively reached a messy, red hoof to brush a lock of Luna's mane back.
Marring it. A red streak along her ear.
What kind of a sister was she?
She placed her hoof on Luna's shoulder again, and pulled as gently as she could manage with how hard she was shaking. Rolling Luna from her side, and shutting her eyes as a small pop rung out from the joint of Luna's wing. She looked again through the mist, and muffled a whine through her teeth as she took in Luna's wing noticeably disconnected from where it should've laid at her side.
She was going to pretend she didn't see a little bit of white at Luna's side. Because she had to.
Celestia looked then, at Luna's face. Visible now as the longest bits of her mane had fallen aside.
How it broke her heart.
Her hoof gently laid on Luna's cheek. Her soft cheeks that should've been hard with anger or bunched with mirth, but instead were covered in hot, red scratches all over. Her closed eyes so familiar for rest, but not... not so still. The blue fur around her scarred temple turning purple turning angry red.
And her mouth gaping slightly open.
It took all of Celestia's willpower to force herself to keep her head from completely falling in anguish as she bent down close to her sister, and felt how cold she was. How hollow the press of their bodies was, as she rested her ear softly against Luna's sliver of a mouth.
Waited. Waited too long... but there it was.
Luna was breathing, but she wasn't breathing enough.
Celestia leaned away just as a ragged cough tore through her lips; a keening wail on its tail. She shook her head, and tried to stop the whines that were breaking through her long-bruised lip. Softly stroked her sister's limp, oily mane as she quietly sobbed.
She didn't know what to do. She... Even if she went for help...
Breaths too shallow, too long between. Too much blood. Didn't even know where it was coming from besides 'Luna's head.'
She'd been too late. She'd found Luna too late, and now... now she wasn't going to wake up. She'd failed her. Celestia was the bigger sister, and she was supposed to stop things like this from happening.
And she was never going to be able to tell Luna she was sorry. Tell her that she loved her more than anything else in their tiny little world. Tell her... Never tell her... Never see her again...
"Luna... oh Luna..." she whispered, as her chest shook and her voice hitched. She looked so small. So fragile, and she'd broken. So beautiful, with the soft light dappling her blue fur; even with the scrapes and cuts littering her pelt. So much more vibrant than Celestia ever was. So effortlessly pretty.
Luna. Sweet little Lulu.
She was afraid even to embrace her, even as much as she burned to. To have one last hug... The scant moments of precious life it might ruin, just for that comfort...
She shook her head as she hiccupped repeatedly; guiding Luna's stray, limp hoof to her own chest, and clutching tightly at it. She couldn't do that to her sister.
She couldn't do anything for her sister. Not when it really counted.
She was useless. Just useless.
A snap broke the quiet sounds of Celestia's whimpers. Wood. A branch disturbed.
Somepony was there.
Hope blossomed in Celestia's chest as her head whipped up, tears stopped short on the corners of her eyes. Mother? Father?
At the edge of the clearing, nearly blending in: a figure draped entirely in a single shaded black cloak.
Celestia's eyes widened, and yet more tears leaked unabated. Not mother. Not father. A stranger. A stranger in their woods.
What did she do? She... she couldn't run, she had to... stay with Luna... Couldn't just leave her little sister... alone.
But it was a stranger. Standing silently not twenty hoof-lengths away. Completely obscured under their baggy cloak, even in the shining light above. Too dark to stare at.
There had never been a stranger. She'd never seen one. Never been anypony else but her family in these woods.
Who were they? What were they doing here? Why... why now?
Each breath was harder and harder to take, and the tears just kept coming. She squeezed Luna's hoof, for any courage her fearless little sister might've had to give her.
Scared. Even more scared than she'd been just sitting, holding Luna's cold, reddened hoof.
What did she do? Couldn't run. Say something?
What did she say? 'Who are you?'' 'What are you doing here?''Don't hurt us?'
Celestia looked down at her sister. Her unmoving form. Her sweet face growing cold and motionless. Her pretty blue fur. The red.
She blinked, and there was a tear on Luna's cheek.
"Help..." she whispered, her voice coming out in a squeak through her ragged throat. Celestia screwed her eyes closed, and let out a sob that was far louder than her plea.
Be louder. Be brave. Help her.
Celestia craned her neck up, her eyes glimmering with flowing tears and her clenching hooves shaking as they held her sister's. "Help! Please! You- you have to help us!"
The stranger didn't move. Celestia gasped for breath through the tears; swallowing back her fear, as she tilted herself forward as much as she could without moving. Shouting again. "It's my little sister, she's hurt! Please, you have to do something!"
The stranger didn't move. Celestia's shaking hooves were beginning to grow numb, and ache. She choked back as many sobs as she could catch; blinking the tears away for as clear a sight she could manage. "Please- Please! Help her! I don't care what you do to me, just..."
Her head fell, and she grit her teeth; forcing the next words out through a full body shiver. "She needs to be okay... She just has to be... She can't... She can't..."
"I can help."
Celestia's head whipped up: her mouth gaping as the stranger was suddenly so close. Knelt at Luna's other side; their still-shaded hood craned down at her. Closed the distance while she wasn't looking. Silent, even so close.
She blinked, and tried to force something through her throat again. Another plea. A thanks. Anything.
She failed, and she could only watch as an off-yellow hoof slid out from the confines of the cloak, to touch gently against her sister's mane. Stroked across her forehead once, leaving a slick trail of glistening red from the few scratches there. Celestia broke out in a new wave of shivers.
The hoof shuffled up, to rest in the nest of Luna's mane. Pressed in. Searched around in circles, until it stopped, and the stranger drew it back.
"It's bad," the stranger muttered, and Celestia's breath shuddered to hear the raspy, male voice. The stranger's hood tilted up to presumably stare at Celestia, though she still couldn't see any part of their face. "She's torn her scalp very badly, and she's lost a lot of blood."
Celestia gasped with what breath she had, and her hoof squeezed Luna's. The world seemed to blur, and suddenly Celestia was leant over Luna's body. Taking hard breaths, and an awful taste in her mouth.
Luna's coat wasn't so pretty anymore.
She squeezed her eyes shut, and forced herself to look back up at the stranger. Still staring at her. Waiting.
Celestia swallowed the acrid taste of vomit down, and clutched Luna's hoof close for strength. "Can't you help her?" her voice cracked, and her entire body seemed to wince.
So weak. So inept.
When she looked again, the stranger was staring at Luna; their hoof laid in the spot they'd found in her mane. They seemed to hesitate for a long moment of silence, before they looked up at Celestia again. "I can... with your permission."
She barely had to think. She nodded. Kept nodding, as she mouthed silent pleas of affirmation. It was all she could do, even as a fresh wave of tears ran from her eyes.
Anything. She didn't care. Anything.
The stranger continued to stare at her silently for another long moment more, until they slowly nodded back, once.
"Thank you."
A brilliant red light suddenly shone to life from underneath the head of the cloak, and Celestia flinched immediately away from it as she gasped in shock. She clutched her sister's hoof in renewed fear as the cloak fluttered, and several glass bottles of varying sizes and colors flew into the air on a wave of scarlet.
A unicorn. Magic.
She watched, coldly transfixed, as several corks loudly uncorked from their bottles, and little bits of the odd materials inside each one pinched themselves and flew through the necks. A hooffull of green powder. Some red. A dash of some odd, chalky substance. An orange-ish, murky liquid. A single, white feather.
They all flew down, one by one, to scatter on her sister's marred chest. A small pile of mixing materials that clashed horribly in their meeting; it was all so strange and disconcerting...
"Your hoof, please."
The stranger's graveled voice shocked her out of her fix on all of the strange powders, and she looked up with a blink and a hard breath. "W-What?"
The light around the stranger's horn seemed to dim slightly as their own yellowed hoof stretched out to hold in the air. She realized, with a jolt, that she still couldn't see the stranger's face. She could see the light, and even the vague outline of their horn, but it was as if the light did not fully travel out of the cloth.
The stranger's hoof bobbed in the air. "I must have a small amount of your blood, and your forgiveness in turn," they murmured, their voice low.
Celestia stared, as her vision blurred. But then she blinked, and thrust her free hoof forward towards the stranger's. They seemed almost shocked, as their hoof recoiled slightly. But hers, badly shaking and dyed nearly completely red as it was, stayed firmly out.
Anything. She didn't care.
The stranger spent a moment looking at her, before a long sigh emanated from the darkness of their cloak. "Please, forgive this," they murmured again, as their cloak lifted up, and a simple, iron knife floated out in a red haze. Their hoof curled around the underside of hers, as the shimmer of magic grew closer.
Celestia pointedly did not look at it. Focused on her sister's face. Imagined her sweet, soft smile as she called her name; bit her lip at the sting of fresh pain and the drip of red at the corner of her eye.
For Luna.
Something cool bit at her hoof far after the cut, and she pulled it away with a gasp and a shake. Her eye flicked down to an oddly unfitting white wrap around her red hoof, and she looked up just in time to see some loose cloth tucked under the sleeve of their cloak.
The stranger seemed focused on her sister now, as she hugged her bandaged hoof to the one holding Luna. The materials scattered on Luna's chest sported a new red drizzle over them, but she could barely stand to look at it. Too much red, already.
She took a steadying breath tinged with a shake, as she studied instead the hoof in her sister's mane. "What now?" she whispered, swallowing heavily a moment after. She looked back up to the stranger's nondescript hood, which did not turn at her words.
Their hoof retracted, and their horn glowed brighter. "Do not fear," they whispered back, and Celestia's eyes widened as the red light around their horn suddenly inverted in a single second, and turned pitch black.
She couldn't help it. Fear, real fear burst in her chest as she nearly fell back from the bright flash of black light; stinging her eyes as it flashed again, and then there was a horrible, rending pain in her heart. Like nothing she'd ever felt.
It hurt, but she could barely move to help it. It felt like... it felt like all of the little strength she had in her body was being... torn out...!
The light flashed and grew, and suddenly congealed in a nearly physical grip around the materials on her sister's chest. Celestia gasped as what felt like every hair on her body stood straight up through the nearly blinding sensation of blaring fear and unease.
It was so close to her, then, and all of the ingredients laying on Luna just... melted up into the air. Turned as one into tiny balls of glowing light; hanging and bobbing in the air like cinders that fell and sank into her sister's body. Disappeared, but the feeling, and the black light cast over them remained.
Grew. Shaded the clearing in dancing, scarlet flames that crackled and whorled with living shadow.Howled in her ears the wrong sounds of rushing wind as though it were screaming. Swirled like a miasma in physical wraiths that poked and prodded at her skin. She felt it on her face. She felt it deep in her being.
It was the worst thing Celestia had ever felt. It felt like spiritual pain, and the fear of the dark, and the loneliness of solitude, and guilt and sorrow and death.
It felt like anathema.
She could barely breathe. She could barely see through the mind-numbing wrongness. Didn't even know if she was still standing. Didn't know if the stranger was still there. Didn't know if she was still breathing.
Luna. It was for Luna.
She kept a firm hold on her hoof.
Even as her sister's body convulsed and jerked, once.
Even as horrible cracks and pops filled the air.
Even as warmth gradually began to fill the limb.
Even as the light faded, and the intense, perverse curse upon life eased, and died off.
Even as the pounding in her ears abated, and she heard the blissful silence.
Even as her held breath ran out, and she gasped for fresh, untainted air.
But then a cloth was thrust into her sight.
She stared at the plain brown shag for a long moment of gaping silence, before she gradually tilted her head up. The unceasing darkness of the stranger's open hood stared back at her, and hoof holding the cloth receded as a red light lifted it up and into her hoof.
The bottles were gone, and so were all the things that had been inside them. Absorbed into her sister in that... magic.
She slowly brought the cloth in her hoof to hold it tightly against her chest, as she stared at the non-visage of the stranger. The stranger still completely covered in their cloak, though they dipped their head. "I'm sorry, I should have warned you. Some ponies feel the effects of my magic... worse than others."
Celestia stayed silent, her cheeks dry and tight as she watched the stranger stand, and take a step back. Their cloak was spattered with red at its bottom, and now it darkened in the running water they stood in. "Your sister will wake soon, none the worse for wear. Her body has been restored, and each of her injuries cared for."
They nodded. "You should clean her up, and make her decent. I'm sure you have a lot to talk about."
The cloth in her hoof.
The stranger turned, and the soft noises of disturbed water rung through the quiet clearing as they slowly walked away without another word. Leaving Celestia to hold her sister, with her chest rising and falling steadily.
They stepped out of the stream, and had nearly come to the edge of the clearing before they stopped. Stopped, cloak raised with a hoof, at the sound of her voice.
"Don't come back."
She'd said it without pause, but still the stranger turned to look at her in the moment after. Blank, unknown eyes to meet her open, steady stare. Her chest didn't shake. Her breath didn't hitch. She didn't blink.
The stranger turned, and left.
She stared out after the stranger's exit for a long time after, but eventually, their last words snuck back into her head. Luna was going to wake up soon.
The hoof holding the cloth tottered out into her view, then she looked down at Luna. Bloody, vomited on, and dirty in many other ways.
But breathing.
There was a lot to do.
When Celestia stood for the first time since she'd knelt into her sister's pool of blood, the first thing she noticed was how cold she was. She shivered relentlessly in the nonexistent breeze, and as she looked down at Luna, she was sure she knew why.
Luna was covered in blood all along her side and back, but Celestia was nearly just as red. The long lengths of her hooves were painted all over in uneven strokes of pressed-upon red, and even her chest that she could barely see looking down was noticeably speckled in it.
The stream was, surprisingly, slightly warm. She'd remembered it being cold and uncomfortable as she'd waded through to get to Luna, but there it was as her stomach kissed the surface of the water. Warm. Almost pleasant.
Maybe because of all the blood.
Celestia felt a little... deadened, she could admit, as she took the cloth in her magic and set to busily scrubbing her leg in the gently flowing water. She'd been riding on the verge of giving up and passing out for what felt like lines, and then that awful magic... and now Luna was okay.
Just... okay. In a literal flash. In a short few moments.
All it had cost was...
She stopped; staring at her red hoof for long, silent moments.
The howling. The black. The tearing. The wrong.
She continued.
It didn't matter what it had cost. Her sister was okay, the stranger was probably gone, her fur was...
Celestia grimaced, as she lifted her hoof from the cloth. The tint wasn't quite going away...
She'd have to say she fell into a rogue tomato patch. That was the only explanation. Probably.
She cleaned the rest of herself in a short, brisk while; not spending an inordinate amount of time trying now that she knew there was little point. Her fur would just... look like that, for a while.
And then... she stood above Luna. Eyes flicking about her form; searching desperately for any sign of problems.
Her broken and dislocated wing was once more solidly connected by the joint, and she couldn't even see the little bit of... bone, anymore.
Even as she carefully knelt by its side, and squinted down at it. No sign of any trauma at all. The joint on her back: solid and strong under taut skin. Even the feathers were mostly grown back, though they seemed a little off-color. Barely noticeable.
She took a moment to softly brush the wood shavings off wherever she saw them. Laid her hoof for a long moment on the tiniest little feathers along the hard bone of the wing. Whispered silent thanks to the air that she was able to, at all.
She stood in a safe spot by her sister's head next; searching for anything off. Much of her sister's short mane was dyed a horrible shade of red that looked... terrifying as it faded unevenly to her normal blue, but otherwise...
Nothing to see. Blood no longer flowed, and the pool lay still on the rock.
No scrapes under fur. No bruises or bumps. No sign that she'd been injured at all. Little lines of gushed blood everywhere, but nothing under them.
Unnatural. That magic was wrong. It had to be.
She thought about the best way to clean her sister, and the rock she sat on. Thought long and hard as she sat by her sister's mostly pristine tail, because it was clean there. Looked at the tiny cloth in her hoof, then at the bigger-than-her-tiny-sister pool of blood.
She decided not to.
She felt horrible, taking Luna's hoof in her magic and dragging her across the least bloody part of the rock and into the dirt. She really did. Nearly threw up, too, as she looked back from the bend she was taking to drag her sister into the stream, and saw the long, red scrape across the brown.
Had to take a long moment of sitting and leaning on her hooves while she took heavy breaths, and pretended like everything was okay and she wasn't an awful sister.
Still, she got her sister into the stream. Didn't matter how she felt. Didn't matter if Luna bumped her head, or if her wings were still out and dragging in the dirt. She propped Luna up against the stream's wall all the same, and sat by her in the disconcertingly warm water.
Sat by her sleeping little sister with a ragged cloth given to her by a pony she'd never admit she met, and cleaned her.
Watched her silent face with hooded eyes as she dipped her head into the shallowest part of the water. Laid it where she could breathe as she scrubbed her mane, and dabbed at her cheeks. Let the liquid locks fall over and over her hooves as the red tint gradually diminished, until it was all just mostly purple. Purple enough to not be noticeable.
That was all. She just had to make it all look fine on first glance. A shallow illusion, like the stream they sat in. Broken on second glance, or a passing touch, but she could stop that from happening. Divert attention. Take all the blame, if she needed.
She was the bigger sister, and it was her job to make things better.
She wouldn't fail again.
Luna's front and sides were easy. She had clear access with Luna's head where it was, and just leaving her fur to soak was already helping some. All she had to do was sit and scrub. Putting her hooves all over her sister's coat, and just remembering in every moment that she was breathing.
It was a harder thing to clean Luna's back. Even... even harder just to look at it. It had soaked so heavily in the pool of blood, Luna's fur may as well have just been a long smear.
The best Celestia could do was lay on her side in the water, and drape the small form of her sister over her shoulder as she let her magic do the scrubbing. Nestled into the crook of her off-purple shoulder, and immersed herself in the decaying scent of iron as she clutched her sister's barrel.
Guided her sister's wings to fold against her back; gently, with prodding motions. An odd experience, as they seemed to twitch and move with a mind of their own, even as her sister slept. But they ceded well enough, in the end. Laid flat, where they should've been.
There was only so much she could really do. Scrub her sister's fur all she wanted, it would still be purple at best. Sit with her unconscious sister pressed against her body in the stream for a quiet line: it still wouldn't erase the scent.
But she enjoyed the time all the same. Relished the sound of her sister's steady, sleeping breaths in her ears, as she took spare time to just hold her. Enjoyed the warmth, in the growing chill of the water. Tried to forget the feeling of her hollow chest as she squeezed her tight.
Let her head rest on her shoulder, against her neck, as she thought.
She'd never imagined life without Luna. Cursed her very presence and dreamed repeatedly of breaking her teeth, but never once had she considered her absence. It had been a given that she would always be there. Always yapping in her ear. Always waking her up in the middle of the night, begging through tears to be held.
Celestia sighed against Luna's mane; blinking up at the bright sky above.
The light was so pretty... it just didn't fit with what happened...
It had been long enough of cleaning Luna, and they were both about as good as they were going to get. Muddy grey and dark purple were... their shades now, she guessed, and they'd just have to live with it until it faded. She had more important things to do than sitting around holding her filly sister; as... affirming as it was.
They were both dripping wet when Celestia dragged her sister out of the stream, but it hardly mattered as she hefted her sideways onto her back. Luna was light, and Celestia had the will; it was hardly a burden.
She cast a look back toward the rock, still covered in blood. Luna's blood, but nopony would ever know. She'd lie. Say she didn't know. Must've been an animal. Made sense to her.
She turned away, and bounced her sister's splayed body on her back. She had things to arrange.
Trotting through the dappled forest was an odd feeling with her sister in close tow. She hadn't carried her sister since they were both much younger, and certainly never on trips through the forest. Certainly not... like this: stomach-to-back, with her hooves dragging along the air.
It felt... invalid. Her sister should've been... up and about. Flying, jumping, running. She was active, not a sack to carry around. Not a loose weight on her back. Not a burden.
...There was so much to reconsider, now...
It wasn't much longer to the clearing she'd been searching for. She couldn't quite remember the path she'd taken to get to the stream, what with the blinding panic followed by the horrible trauma, but the forests were familiar. The immediate area: comforting.
Filled with times past that she should have cherished more. So many reminders of ordinary moments with her sister that were... more extraordinary in hindsight.
Stopped by a tree scant hooflengths away from the opening to the clearing with Luna's tree. Stopped, and stared, and remembered.
The first few times that Luna had run off to sleep here, when she hadn't known how often they'd both be returning, Celestia would... wait. By this tree off to the far side, as her sister sat and slept in the center. She'd not yet had the impatience built up by repeat offenses, and she was content to just... let her sister sleep.
Watched her up in her tree, and thought of the then not-so-far-gone times which she'd been a foal. Sitting and constantly crying in the little wooden cradle that mother had weaved and carved and that Celestia had tried and failed to help with. Fraying the little wooden strands as she'd twisted them too much, and measuring wrong for every cut she'd insisted on measuring for.
She would sit and watch her when their parents were out, as Luna had just cried and cried. Wondered what that little blue bundle was even for, as it seemed so inordinate. Stared in fascination, as the cabin was filled with endless, high-pitched screaming.
Then her mother would return, and see Luna crying, and admonish Celestia. Sitting there and watching her sister cry instead of trying to help her. For shame.
...She'd always been a bit of a screw-up, hadn't she? Made her wonder, in hindsight, why Luna would sometimes call her 'Princess Perfect.' It hurt, sure, which was undoubtedly Luna's intent, but did she really believe her so? Perfect?
Celestia shook her head, and turned from the tree. Turned to the other tree sitting in the middle of the clearing, and walked towards it.
There wasn't much ceremony to dumping her sister at the hoof of the tree, though she tried very hard to do it delicately. Thought, a second later, that it would have been better to kneel down first.
And then she stood back, and stared.
Her little sister: curled over on her side nearly luxuriously; eyes closed and hooves splayed wherever they laid. Head resting on the slight little incline of an exposed root that she'd probably accidentally dropped it on; sleeping with so little care it was as if she were in a bed. Her natural state, it seemed. Fur suspiciously purple where it wasn't brown and dirtied, and-
Celestia's ears perked, and the next stage of her plan seemed to... come together before her.
It would work to better hide the incident... She already felt bad, though.
Sacrifices must be made, she supposed.
She took a single step toward the prone form of her sister, with her wide eyes zeroed directly onto her, and kicked her hoof forward.
Not to hit her sister, of course, but to disturb the dirt. A little shower of brown dust thrown into the air, to scatter down onto her sister's recently pretty fur. Again: she kicked, and yet more dust and dirt was thrown onto her sister's coat.
Only once more, and her sister was well enough dirtied. Patches of mess on her sides and flank, and little specks across her mane and cute little cheeks. Enough to be nearly natural, but she also had to cover up the darkest spots of faded red.
And then, Celestia waited. Waited for her sister to wake from her slumber, because she knew she would, now.
Sat by herself, cradling her sister's head on her petting hooves, and thought.
Luna sat on her back on the lowest branch of a very average tree. Sat, looking at the dark sky above. Too covered to be truly pleasing, but just open enough to give her the vague hope of seeing something.
Sat, and stared, and sighed, and sucked her lip.
Her life had been odd, as of late.
It had all started with her father's gift, of course. Out of the blue and so unexpectedly: she'd been thrust into a new world of legacies and new forms of training and the endless lessons on why she needed to hoof-dry her blades or they'd tarnish.
And other martial things like that. They were all interesting lessons that she enjoyed learning, but her father had been a bit overbearing about it all. She'd been enjoying his presence a bit more as of late, certainly, but he was still... a little insufferable.
Still a bit soppy.
Oh, but even before all that extra time spent with her milky father, and after the initial surprise: she'd jumped into an entirely different can of horrors in her well-meant exploration of the past. Courtesy of the many-sounding voice that could only reach her in this exact tree.
It had all seemed grand and exciting and cloudy at first, but then there'd been the horrible, tragic tale of The Bittering... And, even for as much good Sheer Hurricane had seemingly tried to force in her tenure as the Grand Imperator, it... didn't really make up for it.
It still weighed on her. She'd had a nightmare about it not long after.
Luna let her head roll to the side, to stare blankly at one side of the clearing.
She'd succeeded in forgetting most of it, but the phantom smells of thick, heady iron still clung to her nose. The endless screaming.
She sighed.
That, and all the rest, was more or less why she'd started to go flying.
It wasn't breaking her promise to her parents to never leave the woods- it wasn't! She never left the bounds of the woods, she was just slightly above where she... normally was...
Luna huffed, and crossed her hooves.
Okay, it was a little flimsy, but if she cared then she wouldn't have started!
It hadn't even been that incredible, anyway. It turned out that hovering just above the treetops and doing lazy little filly flips wasn't so much fun in comparison to streaking blindly across vast cloudy acres. It wasn't even a marked improvement in the feel of it.
As she'd always thought, her dreams didn't feel all that different from waking.
She couldn't even see anything cool up there. The horizon pretty much consisted of nothing but dull shadows of mountains, and little else. It was so artificially boring. So sterile. It was almost as though in every direction stood large walls with scenery painted onto them.
For all that she'd built the 'outside world' up in her mind, it didn't seem all that great. Hilly, if nothing else.
That was about the reason she'd begun to overstep.
She could see, now, that it was dangerous to go that fast so close to the trees. Pushing herself to gain as much of a stream behind her as possible while still keeping to the guilty promise lingering behind every barely exhilarating moment. Letting her hooves drape and drag painfully across the leaves and branches below her as she swept across the great green scape.
She saw, in hindsight, how much of a danger there was in crashing.
Luna shut her eyes, and took a deep breath as the memories flashed in a quick reel through her head.
Locked onto the rushing greens below her in one moment, then a tug at her hoof followed by a flash of pain. She'd flagged from the shock, and a stray branch standing unluckily up had hit her wing.
It was a blur after that. Every time she'd tried to open her eyes they'd been whacked by a branch, while every sensation had rushed her all at once in the darkness. The stinging, tearing across her body as things snapped and her fur tore. The pain in her wing as something caught. The constant fear come to a head at the terrifying realization that she couldn't stop.
And then... the open air, and barely opening her eyes in time to see that rock...
Then she'd been waking up: her head in the comforting embrace of her sister.
Her tree above her; sister, at her side.
'You fell out of the tree, Luna. I was so worried about you.'
Luna shook her head, as her sister's soft words echoed in her head.
No, that wasn't right...
Her sister had been smiling. Smiling so wide, and touching her relentlessly. Laid her hooves on her shoulders as Luna had struggled to sit up. Rubbed them over her back as she'd blinked blearily down at her own four hooves.
Taken the moment to slide herself into a hug from behind as Luna had gripped her head, and grimaced.
It was all so unlike her. It was all so... genuine.
It couldn't have been...
Luna had tried to say something: gotten some kind of confused mumble out about flying.
'You were flying?' Her voice had hitched up at that, and Luna had tensed in realization. Celestia sighed, and began to rub her hoof through her mane. 'It must have been a dream, Lulu. You were sleeping up in your tree again, and I think I'd notice if you'd fallen from above it.'
She'd laughed in her ear as her voice turned soft and sweet again, but her voice had hitched. Surprise. Luna had let her secret slip in her delirium, and she'd felt her sister clench her tighter.
No lie was perfect.
She knew she hadn't dreamt it. Celestia... she couldn't have known what dreams were, to her. Luna would have realized if she'd been dreaming, and she would have remembered falling asleep. Maybe not in a normal dream, but she didn't have normal dreams when she slept in the tree.
She'd crashed in the forest... She remembered... the rock. She came at it so fast: all those branches had barely slowed her down...
At the edge of remembrance... She could nearly recall... the pain...
Luna's breath caught as a cold shiver broke out over and down from her shoulders, and she hugged her hooves close to her stomach.
But then... but then she'd woken up... next to her sister. Covered in dirt and bleary-eyed and... kind of sleepy? Everything fresh and new and different from how she'd left it. Her body was tired and cold: not how she should've been after she'd been flying.
Nothing was sore. Nothing hurt. Really, she hadn't ever felt much better, besides the chill and the confusion.
She'd been dazed at the time; too confused to ask many questions. She'd sat and questioned the environment with her gaze instead, as her sister fell all over her and made excuses. Eventually, after a lot of pandering and pondering, she'd been pushed into the idea of taking a bath.
They'd trotted slowly off to the river, where Celestia had insisted on cleaning her; something she hadn't done since they were both much smaller. The brown in her fur had looked a little off after the soak and all the touching, but she was tired, and so she'd let her sister shepherd her home.
Celestia had done nothing but talk the entire way back, but Luna wasn't sure she'd said a word. Just... stared at the ground the whole time, trying not to trip on her oddly heavy hooves.
Sat quietly for dinner, and shied away from her sister's intense stare. Tried not to let her daze show off to her parents too much. Went to bed, and didn't dream. Didn't even begin to notice the many inconsistencies until the full pot after.
And now... pots later... she didn't know if she could ask...
Because ever since then, Celestia had become... different.
She'd been... there really wasn't any better word for it- Celestia had been so much kinder. So much more patient. She seemed to smile with ceaseless enthusiasm every time Luna saw her, and her voice was always sickly sweet and sincere. She was relentlessly upbeat, and constantly had just the most beatific things to say about Luna.
'You look really pretty, Luna.' 'You're so lucky to have so much energy, Luna.' 'Oh, Lulu, I think the greater 'we' might actually be growing on me!'
It was so far from how they'd normally interact. There was no scorn, or sarcasm, or barbs or jabs. Even if Luna tried to antagonize her in any of the well-proven methods, Celestia would just laugh it off. She'd... compliment her.
'You're so funny, Lulu!' 'That's so witty, Luna!' 'Oh, Luna, I know you don't mean that.'
She'd back off from confrontation. She'd apologize for things that were... probably her own fault. She'd... concede things.
Nothing like Celestia. Nothing like know-it-all Princess Perfect.
She'd been paying so much more attention to her, too. If Luna caught her reading, Celestia would almost always put the book down and ask her what she was doing. Ask her how she'd been that pot. Ask her if she wanted company.
Tagged along when she went for walks. Talked to her when she got mad, instead of yelling at her. She'd try to strike up discussions on the things either of them had read, instead of imperiously declaring that 'she might as well just read for herself.'
She wouldn't try to force Luna into getting down from the tree, anymore. If she wouldn't just softly call her name until Luna woke, she would just... wait. And Luna only knew because she'd once merely pretended to sleep; instead watching her sister idling at the side of the clearing out of the corner of her eye.
Celestia had just... sat around. She didn't even know how long she would've sat, because Luna had lost that battle of attrition.
When dinner was finished and they'd go to bed, Celestia would get... really clingy. In the past, they would cuddle... occasionally, but it was mostly just sleepy hugs in the random spur of the moment. Now, Celestia seemed to make it a point to either wait for Luna to settle down or just drag her into bed and... hold her.
And when Luna had that nightmare, and she'd woken up and couldn't stop herself from shaking, Celestia had already been awake. Already holding her tightly to her chest, and whispering sweet little nothings into her pounding ears. Stroking her mane and rubbing her back and reassuring her over and over that it was okay.
She tried to butt in on everything Luna did. Tried to share so much of her life with her. Tried to... know her.
She was trying to be... some kind of sister. Trying to love her so much more.
It all made Luna very uncomfortable- but she couldn't just say that! She did love her sister very much, but she was suffocating her! It was becoming increasingly hard to sneak away to train with her father, or sleep in the tree, or just have any alone time whatsoever! Luna needed time to herself!
And their parents thought it was all so grand, of course. Complaining to her father would yield a simple smile, and the generic response that Celestia loved her. Like she didn't already know that!
It was becoming very difficult to keep her feelings to herself, or to keep her hooves off Celestia's neck.
Luna groaned, and threw a hoof over her eyes; letting her other limb hang limply off the side of the branch. "What happened?" she muttered; letting her hoof slowly drag across her face to fall alongside its twin.
She stared up at the blank, dark sky, and tried to imagine what the moon must look like, then. Big, white, and far away. Like somepony'd taken a knife to the sky and cut a perfect little circle out of it.
How she'd like to escape through that hole. Escape from her weirdly clingy sister, and the woods, and the memories of something she felt like she should remember.
What had happened? What had changed her sister, so?
What happened after she crashed, and why was Celestia pretending like it didn't happen?
She'd become tired of wondering, and she was finally ready to ask.
Just... not her sister.
Luna sighed, and let her hooves come up to curl around her stomach. It wouldn't take much; it never did. There wasn't really any time when she wasn't tired enough to sleep.
She just had to... close her eyes...
Think about the sky... about falling... about floating...
Wait...
And she'd wake.
Luna once more found herself floating, as the world fell away around her. No eyes to see the dark, no nose to smell the nothingness, and no ears to hear the silence. Nothing at all around her except the world in wait.
You beckon to your realm, and it must obey.
Not totally alone, and not nothing to hear, but that was why she was here.
She didn't want to dally or muddle about, even with how much she loved the tireless feeling of emptiness, so she tugged at the scenery waiting just behind her eyes as soon as it felt agreeable.
Light cast dark, and so too did she cast earth. She was a sluice through which the world in her mind filled the mold, and everything slammed together naturally after that. As though the grass and the green knew that it must too have air and color. Force and weight to the leaves scattering from the trees, and she threw a river in there too, just for the sound of rushing water over smoothed bedding.
She stood newly in a plain-looking plain, with a classical river sitting singular treeside at her back. The sky was... okay, she could take a moment here...
Dark... she liked the dark sky. But it needed more... A whorl of color; splash a spatter of blue, temper with purple, and... accent it with a dash of red, because she felt daring!
But they laid like boring pastels in the sky. Sitting stagnant, and sort of unimaginative.
Luna put her recently-new dream of a hoof to her chin, and frowned up at the paint she'd unceremoniously dropped in one, ugly spot in the dark. What could she do to make it look better?
She had an idea. A fun one.
Luna smiled, and let her hoof track up. Focused, as she imagined dragging her hoof through a heavy liquid in the air in front of her, as it passed slowly across her view of the colors in the sky.
And as it left them, they smeared. All in one motion: she swept her hoof across the expanse of the sky as quickly as she could, and from her hoof was followed by a beautiful blend of all the swirls of colors she'd placed there.
The twinkling blue blurred seamlessly into the royal purple, and each and every mesh was lined and spotted in runny, messy red. All across the sky laid a canvas run through with a brush, from which sprung inundated spirals of incidental color that she could swear must have been an immaculate contrivance.
The sky looked so alive now. The more she stared, the more it seemed to undulate and slide against itself. Each color popped against their compliments; the calming blue and the deep purple little but the grand accompaniment to each and every little smatter of flaming red.
Maybe could have used some white or something to accent the red some more, but it was good enough for now.
Your work: a gift. To gaze: a privilege. None are worthy.
Luna grimaced as heat bloomed onto her cheeks. That was all going a bit far. All she'd done was put some colors in the sky and imagined them running into each other. It sort of... did itself.
There is no will behind what happens here except your own. What you believe may seem true enough, but what is true consciousness? Merely waking and dreaming? Or realization?
That... didn't make sense.
Luna turned to walk and eventually sit under the tree she'd dreamed up beside the river. She was feeling a little restless, but that was to be expected under... all this various duress.
The rough bark on her back was a comfort, as was the bubbling of the water beside her, but she still felt... uneasy. Compliments never really... hit with her; they just sort of made her question if she couldn't do any better.
The sky she'd made wasn't really... all that great.
You achieve without knowing. There is meaning yet unseen to your creation, and you need never prove yourself to be the Oracle.
What did that mean? Was there... had she... accidentally... known something?
You dream with purpose, and you have yet to remember. Tell us, and we will provide.
Luna's ears perked up, and her head turned. She shifted more of her weight into leaning on the tree, as she brought her hooves to touch idly against each other.
That was right, she wasn't just here to paint the sky and act demure. She had a question to ask; though, it seemed as though they already knew what she wanted. They always did, thinking about it.
Well, how about it, then? What happened after she'd crashed? Surely they knew?
We witnessed, and we wept. We saw, yet cannot repeat.
Luna frowned. That was ominous... and why not? They'd just said...
You must find the answer for yourself; for in the act of looking, you will gain yet more prescience.
Luna blinked, and her head jittered to the side. She turned, and cast a glance around the side of the tree, then she turned and looked around the other side. She returned to regular sitting position feeling rather silly, as the only thing behind the tree stoutly continued to be the river she'd dreamt.
Well... okay, but where was she supposed to look? If they were going to force her to find the answer for herself, the least they could do was put her on the right track.
Your sister.
Luna's expression, and even her very mood soured in an instant. She glared at the ground, and imagined smacking the vague image she kept of the voice.
If she wanted to ask her sister, then she would have gone and asked her. She'd come to ask them, and so far, they'd been entirely unhelpful.
Maybe she would go ask her sister... She'd probably have to prise it out of Celestia's big, dumb, smiling gob, but she was sure it wouldn't go entirely awfully. She might have to resort to extreme violence in the process, but she'd been asking for it, lately.
There is no need to bring war to your kin. The answer, as it always does, lies in the past; however recent.
'The answer lies in the past...'
Luna's put-off expression melted away, and turned thoughtful as she put a hoof to her chin. She gently brought her head forward, and not so gently bonked it to the tree behind her. Did it again, and then made it a habit because she liked the feeling.
As much as that sounded like nonsense, it actually wasn't, was it? No, that was actually a very good clue.
She was meant to witness it as a memory. Like Cumulanum, and Hurricane. Entirely dreaming, but experiencing the scenes of the past as though she were there. Dreams lay dormant in the mind, and therefore laid parallel to one's memories.
Okay, that was something she understood. All she had to do was...
...
Um... What... How did she... do that, again?
Do not dwell entirely on the experiences of your past. In those times, we would provide the connection, and you would seem to see through our scope. For now, you must learn to dream alone. You must grow.
Wow... that was a bit harsh.
She kind of liked that.
They wanted to make this a test of aptitude, did they? A lesson through adversity. Well, she was no stranger to shaping herself through fire. In reading, writing,swordplay and even flying: she'd always taken to simply throwing herself at goals until they were achieved.
She'd not rest at the sight of an unknown word. Not tire, until the consonants were monotonous on her lips. She'd spent tireless lines making her hoofwriting perfectly straight, curved, and delicate; even as her entire limb seemed to throb and cramp.
She devoted herself to the blade, in both artistry and conception. She venerated the act of flying, and to learn it she had- well, she'd actually learned how to fly in her dreams, but it wasn't as though she hadn't made an effort!
Luna pushed herself up onto her hooves as her energy rose, and her hoof raised to cock against her chest as she stood firm with her eyes on the endless, unformed horizon. Mane sweeping across her cheeks in a breeze that she conjured for emphasis.
She did not back down from any unlearned skill, or any challenge! If they meant to pose to her an ability she had yet to master, then it was very well! She accepted!Bring it on!
She would learn how to dream on her own! If they would not allow her access to the past unseen, then- then she would see it herself! She was the Oracle! What had they told her before... ah- dreams were her domain!
Luna learned by doing, and so, Luna would do!
She stood, strikingly, against the tree and the river behind her; the profile of her mighty declaration dwarfing the empty scenery around her. She was tall. She was confident!
She had no idea what to do!
Her uselessly raised hoof fell to the ground with a heavy thud, and her head followed with a heavy sigh. Luna's butt hit the floor, and she stared miserably at the papery grass under her.
That was all a lot of big talk. She did learn by doing and by relentless effort and especially by beating her head against problems, but she needed to know what she was beating her head against, first.
Luna craned her head up, and sent a pleading look at the still moving sky.
She was a little loathe to ask... but could she get a little guidance? Just to start?
Her lip wobbled.
We had no intention of letting you ply without direction. Our purpose is to serve, and to serve is to guide. Do not fear, Oracle.
Luna perked up, and her wibbly frown curled into a smile. She jumped to her hooves; her entire demeanor changing from melancholy to cheery in a short moment, because she'd really just put on a sad face to ensure she'd get what she wanted.
So, what did she have to do? A location was easy: it was just imagining herself being there, but a memory like what she'd experienced with Hurricane was... different. She still didn't understand what had happened back then, so making it happen on purpose was...
Probably not going to happen.
It is as stated: in times past, we would provide the connection. It was our recollection of the cloud city Cumulanum in which you stood, and it was we who formed the timely connection to the lost dream of Sheer Hurricane. To make your own, as you already have proficiency in molding dreams, should be well within reach.
You must simply connect yourself to the lingering dream of your sister. It should be of little task; you are well positioned for it.
Luna's smile flipped, and now she frowned in confusion.
Connect herself... to... a dream? What did that mean?
We shall explain in plain terms, to ensure understanding.
You stand in a dream, and you have already come to understand its bounds. It is as much a space as is the cabin in which you live, or the tree upon which your body rests. Your mind walks free from its constraints: at home upon these conjured grounds as your hooves lay on earth.
Luna nodded as each word of the informative drone rung out. Yes, these concepts were all familiar, and had never been so strange to her in the first place. The waking world existed in tandem with another world just out of sync: the dream realm.
It was like how the sky existed above the ground. Just because she couldn't touch it didn't mean she couldn't see it, and neither of those things meant it didn't exist.
It was backwards for the dream realm, but it still existed right along with the waking world just fine. Impossible to see from the waking world, but here she was, touching it all over.
Luna put her hoof out, and then put it back down. Yep, she sure could touch it. Dreams existed, alright.
Just for her mind instead of her body.
Well, actually: now that she'd put it all like that, the concept didn't seem so boggling. If... she could take steps, and travel the distance between- say- trees in the waking world... then reason dictated that she could simply... walk between dreams.
The two worlds were just two sides of the same page. If a concept applied in one, then it must be similar in the other.
She needed to get somewhere, so she needed to take steps, and travel the distance between dreams.
Or... maybe something a little more mystical sounding. The basic idea probably applied.
To know lies in breadth of knowledge, yet to perceive is to show true wisdom. Our Champion proves yet greater, and in her understanding lies yet unknown meanings. We are not-
Okay- Okay! She was great and wise!Just tell her how to get into her sister's dream!
Sheesh.
It is as you theorized: dreams are traversed as distance is. Hooves may walk upon roads leading to destinations, and your mind may do the same. In the simplest of terms: your sister's dream merely lies beyond a road, which you must now walk.
Luna nodded, hoof to her chin.
Well, that was very simple. She understood it perfectly.
She cocked her hoof into the air: her thinking expression staying still on her face.
How, though?
How is anything done in this realm? It is a matter of the mind. You must simply conjure some self-rational method of traveling to your sister's dream, and wholly believe that it will work. Exert your will, and your realm will bend.
Oh... kay?
Luna stood, a little reluctantly, and walked away from the tree. Just a short distance that she only once cast a look back at, because she kind of wanted a little space. The tree and the river could just follow her over here if she really wanted them back.
It was sounding like there wasn't any grand method for traveling dreams, just that she needed to... want to. If she just... imagined her sister's dream, and... imagined a way to get there, it would... just work?
It made a fair amount of sense. If she could swish her hoof through the air and paint a masterpiece across the sky, then she could probably imagine... stepping through a door into somepony else's dream.
Luna stopped, and slowly, a smile grew on her face.
She could imagine a door.
In less than a moment, there stood a doorframe with nothing around it on the grass in front of her. It was a simple rectangle made of ugly wooden planks with a dull metal doorlatch affixed to its side; not unlike the unimaginative imaginings from pictures she'd seen in books.
Luna frowned at the thing. It would probably work, but it was... kind of boring. She could do better, certainly?
Her eyes drifted closed, and she took a deep breath as she retreated to the most creative little corner of her mind.
What door would lead to her sister? To Celestia? Imagine it.
Something... white, certainly. Wood..? Polished wood. A slick covering of 'lacquer.' It had airs.
What about the design? Something... ostentatious. Overly pretty and showy for the sake of it, but not... ugly in its attempt. It tried too hard, but it was pretty.
The latch... simple. Something outgoing that wouldn't scare ponies away. Yes... it let ponies in without a fuss.
Her sister... as a door.
Luna opened her eyes, and the door in front of her changed.
The wood had lightened, and now it seemed to sparkle in the shining lightworks above. The veneer covering it was obvious, and she was sure her hoof would slide right off if she'd touch it.
The pattern alit on the sheer surface of the door was a long series of symmetrical, beatific loops. As if somepony had carved lace into the door in extremely intricate lines that circled and rose and fell and came so close to touching each other but always barely refrained up until the very last moment it all stopped and veered towards the exact center of the door where they all met in a-
Circle?
Luna trot forward, and stopped right in front of the door so she could peer closer at a frank oddity.
The concentric lines that ran all over the door met their end right in the middle of the door, but there was something she hadn't imagined. They all lead into a circle. A medium-sized circle surrounded on all even sides by simple little triangles facing respectively out.
It was... a very odd thing; it seemed wholly different from the rest of her sister's pretty door. It was... rough. The lines of it: almost jagged. Like it had been hastily carved there by somepony with a little knife.
And... it was empty. The whole door was white, of course, but all of the space within the circle and the triangles was... blank. Not just white, and certainly not lacquered, but just empty.
Like it was missing something. Color, she'd guess.
Luna shook her head, and leaned away from the strange carving. She hadn't made it, and that ruled out literally all of the suspects, so the mystery seemed destined to lay unsolved.
Unless...?
Her eye flicked to the sky.
...
Well, that was their cue to say something, so she wasn't going to be getting an answer, there.
It was probably just another odd quirk of dreaming that was 'yet unseen.'
That was fine.
Luna turned to the simple latch of the door which hadn't really changed all that much from its previous iteration, and put her hoof to it. She idled there, for a hanging moment, with her hoof on the latch. On the precipice, one could say.
She needed to... think of her sister. Think of her sister's dream. Believe, in her heart, that beyond this door lay another world to step into. When she opened this door, she would create a connection to the world in her sister's mind, and travel there.
Her sister's dream... Her sister's dream.
Her sister's dream, on the pot she'd crashed.
When she'd crashed.
Luna took a deep breath, and opened the door.
And then opened her eyes, because she'd closed them in nervous anticipation.
And then, her jaw dropped.
If she'd ever had a physical definition to put to the oft-unused word 'portal,' then this would be it. Where the exact border of the door's insides began, something else ended. Completely different scenery from what she knew should've been there: encapsulated entirely by the space of the door's frame.
Luna peered in, then peered out, then in again. Looking into the portal: she could see the trees and the plants and the greenery that was so obviously her forest home stretching out on every side, but leaning back out and around showed that there still lay nothing but her dreamscape around the door.
Luna felt daring in her heart, and in a moment of courage, stepped around the door to the other side.
It was the same exact thing. The same exact thing. The forest: entirely within the door, and nothing behind it or to its sides.
Luna ran in circles around the door, next; watching with wide eyes that the forest would stay and stretch out beyond no matter which side of the door she looked in on. Wherever she would look, or stop, or jump back to try to catch the door off-guard, it would always be a perfect illusion.
There was just... space that wasn't there.Mundanely.
It was kind of hurting her head.
She stopped on... some side of the door, feeling a little winded. Feeling a little... overwhelmed. Sitting on her butt, and just staring through the boggling sight of the door. She almost wanted to make the door go away, so she could just sit and think clearly about the concept for a while.
The forest was in the door. That was her sister's dream: connected to her dream by a door. She'd made a door: through which stood vast open space that would only show when viewed through the portal of the door.
Her sister's memory of the pot she'd crashed: just beyond.
The answers she desired: to experience wholly and truly herself.
Odd being in her sister's dream, of course. What else would it mean?
Luna trot briskly through semi-familiar scenes of same-y greens and browns of trees on all sides stretching out to seeming infinity. An unworn and grown-over path under her hooves, and her wide eyes searching idly out for discrepancies and oddities in the bright, light-dappled woods.
Nothing so far, but she'd keep looking.
She'd never been in somepony else's dream, before. She'd experienced places like an opulent unicorn castle and the lofty sky-city of Cumulanum, and she'd seen through the eyes of Grand Imperator Hurricane, but she was finding it more and more relevant to start making distinctions.
Those places she'd been in had been empty and dull, despite their relative scenic grandeur. All still images lacking moving parts: captured for her by the voice in her head. And, as like, experiencing Hurricane's view had been less of an experience and more of a memory shoved rudely into her brain.
This was certainly different. And so far, she was still trying to figure out exactly how.
In concept, certainly, but there remained the possibility of more beyond the novelty. She'd be a good Champion, and try to learn as much as she could while she was here.
As far, there hadn't been any noticeable oddities, or anything so odd to make the entire situation feel odd, but there was some kind of strange feeling in her breast.
Something in the air felt off. A kind of... anticipation, like the dream around her was almost... quivering?
She was sure it was just nerves.
It hadn't taken her much psyching to walk through the odd portal in the odd-marked door- this was why she'd come to dream here, after all. It was just a simple push on her own hinds, and then she was stumbling nervously through the waiting opening in door-space.
It had been surprisingly smooth. There wasn't any jerk, or disconnect: she had just... stepped through, and then she was standing again in her home. Nothing noticeably different in the woods to speak of, despite, again, that off feeling.
There was also the panic of turning around to find a stark lack of door behind her, but that was a problem for later.
Luna slowed to a halt at an especially uninteresting tree, and took a moment to peer around it to see if she could recognize any of the surroundings.
Green. Trees. Shrubbery. For having lived in the forest all her life, she had a surprising lack of grip when it came to finding her way anywhere... Other than the well-tread paths she usually walked to find her way to the few places she normally went, she knew shockingly little of the woods.
If she'd not made it a natural habit to keep landmarks in mind or eye, she'd probably end up lost more often than not.
It wasn't all that disconcerting. If there was any real danger to getting lost in the woods, then there was no way she ever would've survived adolescence. Wandering had apparently been her fillyhood passion, to the constant and extreme panic of her entire family.
So she'd been told, at least. It was honestly really disappointing that she didn't remember causing so much distress, because it sounded so funny.
Oh well. There were always future pranks.
The tree and its absolutely similar surroundings continued to be entirely unfamiliar but for concept, so Luna shrugged, and turned directly away from the tree.
Her back to a relative point: should she go left, right, or forward? Which way called to her?
She put a hoof to her chin, and tapped it there a few times. Her eyes flicked from one direction to the next and then back and then forth; there had to be some tell as to where she needed to go...
Uhm... Ah... Oh...?
Screw it.
Luna turned to the right on a whim, and began to trudge in what she hoped was the direction of an epiphany.
Losing the door as a reference point had been... damaging, and then there was the painful fact that she... didn't really know where she was even going, added to the harmful circumstances of trying to find her way through a vast, mazelike forest: all culminating in the horrible realization that she...
Was lost. Luna was completely lost, and she didn't know how to get found.
So she'd just started walking. And... here she was.
What was she looking for? She had arrived to what was assuredly was her sister's dream on the pot she'd crashed, but she hadn't really thought much farther ahead than that. She'd just... assumed whatever relevant happenings she was looking for would be closer.
Maybe they had been. Maybe she'd just gone in the wrong direction, and whatever she was here to see had been somewhere behind her.
Luna stopped, hoof on an overgrown root, as a full-body shiver ran up her spine. She shook it off with a chill as it settled on her withers, and looked forward again in determination.
Just keep walking. Persevere. If she just believed she'd get there, she would.
Luna's hoof crept off the root, but then it shuddered to a stop mid-air. Her mouth, halfway to a sigh, stopped in a slight gape, and she could feel her ears perking to sudden attention.
Exert her will... and her realm would bend.
Luna's slight frown broke out into a curl of a smile, and she put her hoof down on the other side of the root.
She had to believe she'd get there.
What did she do when she wanted a tree? She imagined it. What did she do when she wanted a door? She imagined it. What did she do when she wanted to travel dreams?
She imagined herself traveling them. She believed that she could.
Everything was so great in dreams!
Luna took a deep, confident breath through her easy smile, and closed her eyes. She put her second blind hoof on top of the root, and began to imagine her goal.
Her goal. What was her goal? What was she looking for?
Her sister?
No...
The rock.
Yes, she was looking for the rock. She was looking for where she'd crashed. She needed to know what had happened there.
Luna let a deep breath out, and brought her hoof to the other side of the root. Two over, and she moved forward as her first hindleg came to rest next.
She had to imagine herself there. The rock. She was there.
Snapped branches... Oppressive canopy...
Another breath, another step, and her last hoof on the root.
It wasn't enough; she wasn't feeling anything... There had to be something else... something more to remember... Something powerful to lock into her mind to draw her there.
Falling so fast- but she'd seen the rock. So many branches on the way down, but she'd gotten her eyes open at the last drip. Had a solitary moment of still peace, and it had all burned like a brand into her mind.
She'd been so focused on the rock, but there'd been something else.
A creek. A stream running across an open clearing. Not just screaming wind in her ears, but faintly... behind it...
Bubbling.
Luna breathed out steadily from her mouth, and slowly, a comfortable warmth blossomed and spread through her chest. Her hoof wobbled on its perch, then fell forward in one quick motion that carried her into another soft step.
Bubbling.
She could hear it...
Her skin prickled, the warmth fell away, and Luna... frowned. Her ear flicked to noise, and she raised her head: letting her mouth gape faintly to let a little air flow over her tongue and fill her mouth.
Had it just become colder?
Her eyes drifted open, yet it remained dark.
Luna swiveled her head around; her expression morphing into confusion as she took a cautious step forward. She'd been in a brightly lit- albeit shadowed- leafy corridor a moment ago, and now she seemed to be in...
Well, she could vaguely tell it was a clearing, and she could hear that soft babbling of a brook she'd been trying to imagine. She was assuming she was where she'd wanted to go, but... it had become dark for whatever reason. Between her travel from one place to another, the sun had seemingly given way to the moon, and the lackingly lurid light had instead fallen.
It... was possible? But it didn't seem all that likely. Sure, the light could shift in the single span of a quiet moment, but for it to happen in the exact time that she'd had her eyes closed? And- and for her to not notice until exactly now, when she happened to open them?
Luna took another step into the clearing, peering into the gloom as she angled herself toward the sound of the stream. Trotting into the dark sightlessly as she searched blindly for markings, while her mind jumped conclusions.
She must've... It must've... The light might've...
...
Nevermind. She didn't understand, and making guesses wasn't going to help anything. Best just to accept it until it became an interest.
Something suddenly cold splashed at her hoof, and Luna looked down in surprise. She brought her hoof back up as she retreated a step, then bent down towards the stream she'd unknowingly reached.
She'd misspoken earlier: it wasn't just dark, It was impenetrably dark. She honestly couldn't see more than a hoof in front of her, and if it wasn't for the large, leaf-ringed opening in the canopy above her, she wouldn't have even been able to tell she was in a clearing at all.
For as much good it did her. The sky may have been brightly and beautifully shadowed in pastel inks, but the scant light that shone from above didn't seem to penetrate below.
It was like a tangible darkness had just... settled there. If she thought much harder about it, she was sure she'd be able to swim in it.
She felt her way half-blindly upstream; keeping one hoof skimming and dipping into the water to guide her. The surprisingly cold water helped to clear her cluttered mind, and the soft rapids were a decent enough focus.
Something was wrong. The woods were never this dark, even in the darkest, most moonless dark. It was nearly as though the gloom was pressing itself like a veil over her eyes. It was insistent, no matter how much she tried to force herself to adjust with blinks.
It was becoming an interest.
Was it a quirk of experiencing somepony else's dream, or was it specific to her sister's? She'd never been in a dream like this, so perhaps...
She had a few guesses. Just one sensible one, really. If... she were to assume and adhere to the principle that- as was proven by her standing there- memories and dreams were, in essence, at least linked- if not the same outright thing- then perhaps...
It might've had something to do with perception? If this dream she stood in was really playing out as her sister's memory, then deduction dictated that any noticeable shifts in the environment were likely due to how they were remembered.
Her sister must be remembering her relatively current moments as sightless and dark. Thus, the world was dark.
It wasn't perfect, and Luna was even less sure of it as the theory had congealed, but there remained a certain consistency. But also some inconsistencies... If her sister were to blink, then would the world just blink out? Would sound wobble and distort every time she spoke to the deaf tune of her voice? It couldn't have all been based on what her sister remembered.
And... maybe it was just her getting off track and thinking too much, but had she been walking for longer than she should've been able to?
Her hoof scraped up against something hard jutting into the stream, and Luna stopped. She let her hoof run up the slanted, noticeably smooth surface until it was level with the rest of her, then she took another step forward.
How convenient- though just as likely owed to her realizing that the stretching of the walk may have been her own doing. She enjoyed gnawing on mind teasers, though. She could hardly be faulted for-
Her hoof bumped into something.
Luna frowned, cocked her head in confusion, and leaned down to inspect whatever she'd run into. She'd only barely touched it, but it didn't feel like a rock... Felt kind of soft...
She peered through the heady dark, and caught a glimpse of something... blue? That wasn't...
Her time inspecting the strange, blue object was cut extremely short as first came the far-off sound of something trampling heavily through greenery, followed as it grew louder by the addition of a panting voice.
Luna looked up in quick shock to the source of the noise as somepony suddenly burst into what sounded like the opposite side of the clearing. She nearly took a step back, maybe to run, but stopped in the infancy of tracks as the mystery pony stumbled forward into the stream; a loud splash followed instantly by a surprised gasp.
She knew that voice, especially in that kind of shocked surprise. She'd teased enough of those gasps out in their long time together, though she'd hardly committed it to memory over the sound of her own laughter.
Her sister was here.
It was a bit of a war with herself whether she should try to feel her way over to her. It sounded like she was just standing there in the stream, panting and gasping for her apparent life: so nothing too important. She must've been running or something with how worn out she sounded: Celestia being the total critic of any physical activity she was.
There was the off feeling in her breast again. Right near her heart: reaching up and niggling at the base of her ear.
'Don't move,' it said.
So she didn't. Wasn't like her sister'd be able to see her anyway.
She assumed.
Surprisingly, she was almost immediately rewarded for her patience. In a slow motion: the brighter light ran across the clearing from its farthest end, revealing the obviously- yet undeniably strangely- ragged form of her sister staring down at her hooves in the middle of a charming little stream. Pink hair fallen in loose strands around the hidden mask of her face, and heaving coat browned and mussed.
Luna blinked and seethed as the light fell across her face; leaning away with a grimace and trying to find the least lit location to angle her head in. Why did the light have to be so damned light?
Her ear perked to a whisper, and she turned curious eyes back to the trodden form of her sister.
Her sister, who was staring directly at her: the sheer despair on her face visible even from the distance. Mouth gaping and shuddering open; head shaking side to side almost too softly to notice.
Something low tinged in her heart, and Luna blinked as she felt the organ leap into her throat. She hadn't counted on Celestia being able to see her, and really she'd completely assumed that she wouldn't. This was a dream Luna was having that was connected to the lingering dream of her sister's memory: why would she be able to see her?
But... the way she was... Why... why was Celestia staring at her as though... as though...?
"Luna!"
It was so sudden. Her sister had barely screamed her name, and Luna had barely stepped back in shock, and Celestia had barely even begun a desperately clumsy run through the stream before-
Before- she heard it.
Squick.
Luna had very little self-control. She had almost no conscience to speak of as long as nopony knew that a literal conscience spoke in her mind. When Luna felt a desire to do something, as long as she hadn't previously sworn not to, there was a fair chance she would do it with little thought.
So upon hearing the very odd squish under her hoof, she followed her first instinct, and looked down.
She was met with the sight of her own body.
She was met with blood.
Every single nerve in her body seemed to fire all at once, as she first screamed in the highest pitch she'd ever hit, before almost immediately biting down hard on her lip. Her hooves began a frenzied dance to get her far from the dispiriting,disheartening, terrifying sight of her own body lying disgustingly prone at her hooves, but her wings also took initiative and snapped open at nearly the same time.
She curled up into the air in a high moment of sheer panic, and once her hooves stopped pawing at the open air, they naturally found a place clutched over her mouth. Because stopping herself from screaming again seemed the most immediate goal as she could definitely feel something rising in her throat.
May have been vomit- but who cared?!
Her sister was getting closer. Splashing and gasping and beginning to cry as her hooves barely crested the water's surface, but Luna could barely even bring herself to stop... staring, even for a drip.
She'd been standing... all that time...
No- stop..!
She shut her eyes. Closed her ears. Tried, prayed, failed to stop herself from remembering that first, awful moment of realization.
Her hooves had been so close to... herself. Just on each side of her... her head-
Luna's next increasingly labored breath came out as a whimper, and she bit her lip harder; putting as much force to keeping her eyes closed as she could.
She'd not made a habit out of staring at herself- she'd never been so vain- but there were obvious times that she'd caught glimpses. She knew what she looked like. Had pictures of herself in mind at odd times. Her own figure was, more than it wasn't, familiar.
And now she'd never stop seeing it. Caught in her reflection. Burned into the backs of her eyes.
The blue... Her mane...
So much red.
So much red.
The screaming. The piles and arranged lines of bodies. The mud run slick in the absence of rain. Metal brandished and brought to weeping song over and over. A proud leader bound and beaten until white was black underneath and each and every feather was fletched from tip to end in blood.
It was nearly funny, in a way that made her want to curl up and cry and never see the world again, that something so innocuous in conception could bring her right back around to the trauma again.
Would she ever stop seeing it?
Luna's eyes slowly drifted open, and she could surely feel something wet on her cheeks as her sister finally came up to the rock. The large near-circle of a rock that she both hovered just outside of, and also laid... on.
Her hooves found the ground as her wings folded, and she sniffed shudderingly as her sister, panic-stricken and crying more than her greyed cheeks could handle, stared down in absolute horror at the- the pool of blood on the... rock.
The pool of her own blood that they'd both stepped in, now.
She was the lucky one. She could touch it- feel it all she liked, but at least it wouldn't stain.
Luna eyed the slowly expanding line of red that so obviously spouted from her own still head laying on the flat of the rock, and she could just... feel the wear. An awful sick feeling crawling on the lining of her throat, and her jaw curling in response.
It was a dream. She was sure that was the only thing that kept her standing, as she stood stoically next to her own cooling, bleeding body. Her own hooves that she could see in duplicate at the corner of her vision: splayed out and folded under her... scratched and reddish coat.
Her wing that itched and ached the more she stared: bent the wrong way and trailing to the ground. Her fur that felt hot where she couldn't touch: run across with myriad shallow and deep cuts wherever she looked. Both gifts of the many branches she'd hit on the way down- and she could remember that pain in her wing...
It was like looking at her reflection, but all so horribly wrong. A bent, twisted image shorn out of reality by one, awful ripple.
This was what had happened: what they hadn't wanted to tell her. Not they in her head, nor Celestia to her side: who she was increasingly sure couldn't see her as she was standing stuck in a teary stare in the stream just hoof-lengths away.
She'd crashed. She'd fallen.
She'd bled.
And yet, she still stood. She'd recovered.
The blood... was growing. Running and dribbling across the rock; some of it already leaking into the stream the rock dipped into, but most of it just slowly staining her fur.
Blue turning purple from red.
Luna's stare was broken as the world stopped waiting, and she was forced to stumble aside as her sister unknowingly shouldered past her. A phantom feeling as their fur met that immediately lacked depth, and it was clear to her that, in spirit, she was alone.
Luna stood on three unsteady hooves for a moment, before she unblinkingly skittered off to stand away from her own head: turning and focusing her wavering attention on Celestia as she took her own teary turn to stare down at the broken blue wing.
Red, messy hoofprints left carelessly on the rock, and her sister's white coat stained with dots and splashes of uncomfortably sharp crimson.
Blue... Purple... Red... White...
Luna turned away as Celestia walked towards her again, because she could barely stand to look at what she'd wrought. What she'd seen.
Twinkling blue. Royal purple. Runny, messy red.
No longer did it lack the white.
"I get it," she whispered to herself, as the noise of her sister choking back wet sobs filled the quiet clearing. Haltingly: she turned again, and found Celestia laid by her knees to the ground. Hooves shaking and twitching oddly towards... past Luna, as though she couldn't bring herself to even touch.
What else to do but watch?
It was the duty of the Oracle to witness.
Luna took a soft step forwards, and knelt in much the same way her sister was. It took effort- real, forced effort to let herself down into that cold pool of deep crimson, but there she knelt all the same.
Her eye, uncooperative and too curious for its own good, flicked to her body before she could stop herself, and she winced. A shiver, even stronger than the ever-present, leapt in a pitter along her spine.
What pony could sit so calmly, when they lay in bloodied, broken double at their very side?
A stronger pony than her.
"Luna?"
Her own name, but not for her. Celestia was shaking her downed shoulder, calling her name and leaning in close as though she were simply sleeping. As though the blood were but a convincing prop, and Luna some vain actor.
It was the wear, she decided, that weakened her enough to allow the quiet sob.
It was her sister sobbing alongside her that turned one into two.
Her next breath was sharp, and then she was reaching a hoof out to her poor sister's shoulder. The touch was meaningless- Celestia was a dream and Luna could only fool herself into feeling fur- but it brought slight comfort regardless. To her, and maybe somehow to her sister.
Even as Celestia shuffled off through a deepening pool of blood, Luna followed. It was fine for her, since her knees wouldn't take the dye as her sister's were, though the flopping feeling in her stomach still intensified at the oddly distant, cold sensation.
She kept her hoof rubbing small circles in her sister's fur, as she watched with growing, painful impassion. Every moment she spent there, the more it all reminded her of things she'd tried to forget. The more it seemed so much less dire, for what little she could compare.
And the less it hurt, the colder it made her feel.
Yet, for as tired and numb as Luna was becoming, Celestia only became more and more frantic. Reaching out in barely controlled motion to touch... not her forehead, and stroking up along an ear as she whimpered keenly.
A long, red mark painted in an uneven line. Luna only felt colder and ever colder.
Celestia moved, then, as she finished a long, painful bout of shivering and weeping that Luna could only lean in and whisper soft, deaf condolences for; placing her nearly entirely red hoof on a downed blue shoulder, and pulling her onto her front. Scarlet red left in a hoofmark on blue fur.
Something snapped in the motion, and Luna looked away. She had to. Shut her eyes, and listened softly to the sound of her sister's broken voice rising into a pitched whine.
One of the joints on her back pinched, and she knew why.
The dulled feeling of opening her eyes to the side yielded interesting sight. The woods around them had oddly blurred, and were strangely unfocused to her eyes, even as she tried to squint. Greens rubbed together like dry smears, and the trees seemed to almost expand out in odd puffs of reaching, false color.
And it only grew worse in each moment. Celestia was becoming blind to the world in her growing panic.
Luna's indifferent inspection of the dream around her was left hanging as her hoof was left oddly hanging, for her sister suddenly leant down.
Her eye followed as her hoof returned to false fur, and both found Celestia hunched over her other body. Ear pressed intently to where it seemed her mouth would be, and Luna could see, with her head cocked to the side, as her pupils shrank and shrank in every slow moment.
The cold was breaking.
Celestia was leaning back out on uneven hooves, and coughing so hard in ragged breaths that she was nearly doubling over. Luna's hoof hovered away, and it began to shake without a support.
Something was falling; her stomach twisting in and in on itself as Celestia began to openly sob with renewed intensity and jerkily convulse. Fresh waves of tears falling and dripping onto blue fur as she just... sat.
Sat, with such obvious forced care to every jittering, yet delicate motion: stroking red across Luna's dull mane, and nothing else.
"What-" She choked back a heavy swallow as her voice, cracked and worn, came out too weak for words. "What are you doing?"
She leaned in on Celestia's side to peer closer at her face, and there was nothing in those closed eyes and tight lines but regret and remorse. Nothing to each bare motion but intense refuse and a growing sense of pre-emptive remembrance.
Her head was shaking- but she couldn't stop it. Her mouth was gaping, but she couldn't speak.
"Luna... oh Luna..." Celestia wasn't doing anything but whispering her name, but that wasn't right. She shouldn't have been just sitting. She shouldn't be crying, and mourning.
She was supposed to be running to get help.
"Help me..." she whispered, and the choked words were a surprise to her own lips. Something was wrong. Luna felt sick. She looked down in slow trepidation at her downed form laying spread on the rock, and she could see in clear view how pale her own face was staring back at her. How still she was.
She looked at her sister- faster- but then she looked at herself again. Tried in vain to control her breathing, but it was speeding rapidly and her heart was pounding and she couldn't stop herself from imagining it crashing to a sudden halt.
What was happening? Why wasn't Celestia doing anything?! She should- She should have been saving her!Helping her! She should have- could have been jumping up- bandaging- healing- saving-
She blinked, and by chance she was looking at her sister again. She latched onto the chance: greedily clasping her hooves to greyed, immobile cheeks and tilting her head and twisting her body until she was staring, with white, toneless noise in her ears, directly into those closed, leaking lines.
"How did you save me?" Her voice was ragged and haggard and it was all she could do to stop each word from splintering into broken whimpers. Her hooves, too tired and too cold from too long spent watching: shook and swayed and just barely kept even on her sister's face, and the tenuous grip might've only owed because she could impact her dream sister as much as she could a boulder.
There was no response. Celestia did not move from her suffering vigil, and the longer she looked, the more she saw of her sister's face that spoke finality. No burgeoning ideas. No last-ditch hopes kept to breast. No plan, in absolute defiance of what every sign shown should have spoken, to get up and act.
Luna was dying.
Celestia was letting her die.
Because she didn't know what to do.
Unsteadily, Luna leaned away on shaking hooves, and all she could do then was stare. Breathe, and stare. At her sister, clutching a- her limp blue hoof to her chest, who was as lost as she'd been in the forest.
The forest that was dribbling down around them. Like paints run to water: leaking together and mixing into indistinguishable slurries of unrecognizable madness. Sense and cognizance were draining from the world around them, and there was no way to tell which of them it was coming from.
Celestia didn't- hadn't saved her. When she'd come here, and seen her body, and seen Celestia, there had only been one very obvious conclusion. She'd woken up at her sister's side, her parents didn't seem to know what happened, so the only outcome was that her sister must have saved her.
But she didn't.
Her sister had found her, seen her, and finally, after so much soft struggle, resolved to resign. To forestall what was coldly, with every inch of blood that spilled, becoming obviously foolish attempts at rescue: to instead spend these last few moments...
In peace. Sitting in love and in labor, with her sister, as she died.
And suddenly Luna understood.
Then, a crack rang out, and the world snapped to focus.
Two sets of eyes- one magenta: wide with tears, and one cyan: dimmed of color- swept in synchronous motion to the source.
One pony, devastated and diminished through trial, gasped in shock; while the other, left nearly insensate from sights never meant to be seen, merely set her jaw, and swallowed heavily.
A pony stood, garbed in cloak, at the far end of the clearing.
They were an immediately mysterious sort, and not just for their attire. The cloak they wore was entirely and dully black, loose, and seemed intently designed to hide every inch of their appearance; not that she cared. No, for the intents, the fact that Luna couldn't see beyond the black rim of shadow to their face didn't matter at all.
Because it was obvious who they were.
They were the one who'd saved her.
Yet, it was odd.
She could hear, and feel, the way her sister stiffened and began to fear. The unsteady rise of her breathing, and the tiniest little sounds of uncertain shuffling on wet stone. Her sister was afraid.
But she had to act.
All in a moment: Luna turned, and threw her hooves around the still body of her staring sister. Two circled around her sides, and her head resting on her neck- yet it felt cold. Her sister was not there, and Luna was not hugging her.
But she could imagine the feel. She'd held and been held so often; the soft down of fur pressing back was... nearly there. She could fill in the gaps, and believe anyway that... she was warm.
As she tightened her grip around midriff, and gasped small breaths into an ear that could not hear her, all she could focus on was the way the body pressed against hers shook.
"I don't blame you," she whispered, and the sound of her own cracking voice was a sore reminder of how long they'd both been there. As much as it really did hurt, Luna knew just as well that whatever pain she was feeling was lucky to be even half of her sister's.
She'd come in living: knowing that she'd stand up again at the end of it all. Celestia hadn't.
She shook her head against the hard surface that she wished so desperately to be soft, and tried not to let the noise of her sister's panting, shuddering breaths deter her. "I know it wasn't your fault- none of it was... And I know that- that you would have done anything to save me."
She closed her eyes, and her next breath came out as a choked gasp as the weight of what she was saying began to hit her. Burying her face into cold fur: It was all she could do to keep herself from tilting out of apathy and into desperation.
She bit her lip until it burned, and forced herself to continue through the sting. "I know that... you would do anything to save me... and... I understand how you've been acting now..."
The closeness. The compliments. The consideration, and the care.
The love.
"I love you too, sister... And... I'm sorry I haven't been showing it."
Her voice cracked.
It was all so pointless; it wasn't her sister. The things she was saying may as well have just been for herself. Whimpering uselessly into the uncaring void.
But maybe it was. Maybe... this embarrassing little confession coming closer and closer to bordering on teary... really was just for herself.
Maybe she'd never have the strength to tell her sister any of this- and how could she ever begin to explain it- but here, and now? With the perfect simile of her sister created by her very own mind? A stand-in as close to the real thing as she could ever possibly get?
She was okay pouring her heart out.
Tears fell yet again down her cheeks, but still she raised her head to look her sister in the eyes.
"Save me," she whispered, and it was all she could trust herself to say without completely falling apart.
There was so much hopelessness in those eyes so wide. So sharply rimmed with the intense, warring desire to run. It was all over her face, and Luna was sure: Celestia had never been so terrified in her life.
Such a sleepy life they lived.
But it was there, too.
"Help..." It was nearly a squeak, and certainly less of a word than a raw expression of voiced emotion. The pain. The fear. The despair.
But there it was.
Again: Luna threw her hooves around her shaking sister, but even there she could feel it. Even to imagine that racing heart, and those unceasing tremors that came in horrible lilting waves of receding trembles; she could barely believe it was all just in her head, anymore.
Because with every bracing clench she took against every awful, full-body shiver, her sister's body grew warmer and warmer. The shakes did not abate, and her sister's mewls only grew deeper, but even still...
She was being so brave.
"Help! Please! You- you have to help us!"
Her sister's scream was louder in her ears than anything she'd ever thought possible, and there had never been anything so raw in its desperation. Her voice as it rose tore and warbled, but even still, it came out all the same.
So brave.
"It's my little sister, she's hurt! Please, you have to do something!"
Every plea was rising higher than the last. Fevered pitch of discordant emotion, drawn and played straight into the strongest voice she was sure Celestia could handle.
It tore at Luna, that all she could do was hug her fake sister tight as she screamed herself hoarse for her safety. Beseeching dire aid from the first stranger either of them had met in their entire lives, when she could still feel the tight, tense cords of her sister's every terrified twitch.
Please- Please! Help her! I don't care what you do to me, just..."
Celestia was breaking down, and Luna wasn't sure if she'd ever stopped crying in the first place. It was certain that, even if it wouldn't stain, her sister's shoulder was becoming damp. She nearly whispered unheard apologies for it.
"She needs to be okay... She just has to be... She can't... She can't..."
She could barely even stand to be here, anymore. She- she wanted to go see her sister. Her real sister.
She wanted a hug. She wanted a long walk in the woods. She wanted to discuss tired literature. She wanted to cuddle. She wanted to be held, and feel real fur, and be assured that everything was going to be okay.
It was nearly uncanny that- as she could feel against her- Luna and Celestia both looked up in the same synchronous motion.
The stranger had moved. Close.
So close that they were actually right on the other side of Luna's body. Standing just aside of the blood-covered rock, likely to avoid the worst of the huge puddle. Probably even close enough to reach out and touch them, but still somehow not close enough to see under their cloak.
Maybe not see under it, but Luna- through the haze of intense loneliness- was fairly sure that she'd never be able to see under that cloak.
Maybe it was intuition- or maybe it was grief-driven insanity- but now that they were so close and she could see into the cloak-bound non-space, she was more certain it may have been magical.
It just seemed unnatural, the way it hid them.
What did she know, though? Her sister was the unicorn.
Her poor sister, who she could feel clearly through their close contact try to speak. Soft gasps and chokes that died too soon in her throat, until she soon fell completely silent.
It was so... un-Celestia, to be so speechless. It was sad.
She watched over her shoulder as she continued to press herself against her sister, and a nearly unnaturally yellow hoof slid out from the sleeve of their cloak- and Luna was suddenly absolutely certain that it was magical. The sickly-colored limb stretched out from seeming nothing.
Growing discomfort itched at her withers from her posture, but she could barely take her eyes off the scene before her. She turned and circled: keeping her hooves close as they found new places around waist and under limb holding purple limb; her eyes focused on the slow drift of that yellowed hoof as it gently ran a glistening trail of red across... not her forehead.
Celestia seemed worsened at the sight, as an entirely new wave of intense shakes vibrated out through their side hug. Her eye drifted to the side in momentary distracted concern, but returned to see the stranger's hoof begin to explore about in the reddish-purple hair of her downed self's head.
"It's bad," murmured the stranger, and there was an immediate tensing in her sister to hear the strangely roughened voice of the stranger. Their head tilted towards them, and she tried in vain to peer beyond what veiled their face. "She's torn her scalp very badly, and she's lost a lot of blood."
Celestia gasped, and all she could do was squeeze that much harder. She hoped that somehow, across the indeterminable distance, the sentiment would convey. She'd just have to hug her sister again when she-
Her sister's breaths were so uniformly ununiform that the first little off-balance catch was nearly unnoticeable. She wasn't sure- until the second jitter through her jaw came harder, and then it was too late to do anything as the third shake that nearly threw her off came in a retch.
She leaned away as much as the hug would allow- and there was really no way to properly feel about watching somepony she'd lived with all her life throw up all over her dying body. It was the sort of thing one simply just watched.
Celestia was bent over her work and taking deep, shaking breaths, and as Luna looked down with wide eyes at the... mess, she was suddenly very glad that she hadn't filled in all the gaps. The way her sister spat and choked as she returned upright- though she didn't lessen her hug any for it- it must have tasted and smelled as foul as it looked.
She'd keep the worst details of vomit out of her dreams, thanks very much.
Each breath seemed a labor to her sister, and though she was undoubtedly dirty even before her vomit, Luna still nestled herself deeper into the shallow crook of the neck she was rest upon. She wanted to comfort her... but she just... couldn't.
She'd never before wanted to see her sister so badly.
"Can't you help her?"
Celestia seemed to cringe from the very sound of her own voice, and Luna couldn't help herself from wincing along. If 'groggy wake-up' was the limit for how rough her sister's voice had ever been, then this tone had surpassed it by leagues. It hurt Luna's ears, and it must have hurt Celestia's throat.
The stranger took the question and the tone and the vomit all in stride, as they returned merely to looking down at her head. Certainly though, it was all very distressing, and her sister was taking the moment to rest with hot breaths and slumping posture. She was sure she'd be as worse off or barely better if it weren't for the quiet, undeniable professionalism of the stranger.
It set her mind just that much at ease, and even then, they acted in total succinct silence. With their hoof prodding in such delicate motions about the messy surface of hair, to eventually stop in one specific, nonspecific spot: the entire inspection screamed precision. Diagnostic methods with such ease in such dire time seemed... tested.
Were they a doctor?
"I can... with your permission." They spoke as they looked back up at them again, and Luna was suddenly struck then by the tone of their voice. She'd not expect her sister to have noticed it- blinded and deafened by grief as she was- but the gruff edge of their graveled voice seemed... torn, rather than worn.
It was much like her sister's. While it tore their throat and others' ears alike, she could almost hear faint traces of some accent beneath it all. As though they'd merely not had a drink in some time. And still: there was nuance to even that blunted edge. The way they spoke was almost... wavering?
It did not lack conviction, to be sure, but she could hear something identifiably meek there. They seemed... nervous, even to speak.
She was becoming endeared to this stranger.
Her less than momentary reverie was broken as her sister shook- no, not shook: nodded. Repeatedly, in extreme motion, for much longer than was necessary. The jostle was nearly enough to shake her off, and she was forced to hold herself at hoof's length as her sister affirmed with her entire body.
It would have been funny if she'd not been crying.
How even a small glimpse of hope must have seemed such a miracle to her, after such a total resignation.
Her savior seemed to regard Celestia in a long moment of silence. Simply staring. Perhaps thinking on the consequences of such blind and total faith in a total stranger. She hoped they might forgive it, as she already had.
She hoped it would not be abused.
"Thank you."
It was her savior who'd offered it, and it was from they which sprung the glowing red light of magic from a horn.Shock bloomed in her breast as her eyes widened, and her sister gasped and tensed back as her savior's cloak raised; many different vials carrying themselves out from under the cloth on visible waves of crimson light.
The bottom-heavy bottles danced and alit on sheer air, and the song of corks unpopping accompanied them as myriad powders and liquids poured forth from their containers.
One by one and all at once did they collect and aggregate together before separating to collect in piles on her body. Covering so cleanly in myriad complimentary colors the slurries of refuse- yet there was something ever more brilliant about it.
So quick, and so often did they all cross and mix in their dance, but not once did any of the settled piles overlap.
So sure she was, that her savior knew medicine.
"Your hoof, please."
Luna looked up, and it was becoming ever more difficult to not notice how timid her savior was. Their hoof had outstretched, but just barely did it extend from the encompassing shadow of their cloak, and even there it seemed so tentative. Their hood was colored on its rim alone by scarlet light barely shading a horn- but she couldn't help imagining them nervously averting their eyes.
Luna felt all the more heartened.
Her sister, though... "W-What?"
As much familiarity and kinship she was beginning to feel for her savior, they still must have seemed so strange to her poor sister. Her mind: gone through such trial; was it any wonder that she'd feel such suspicion even for how kind they were?
"I must have a small amount of your blood, and your forgiveness in turn," murmured they, and she felt nearly pitied for them. The reticence to their rasp was as prominent as it'd ever been, though she could certainly understand the way their hoof shivered in the air.
Certainly, they had their reasons, but that was an awful lot to ask. Her blood? Celestia was as likely to agree as she was to-
The motion was so quick- so unexpected. Her sister thrust her hoof forward in less than a drip, to hold itself opposite to the yellow hoof which shied away from the sudden motion.
As she looked from her sister's shaking, outstretched hoof, she could only see the barest side of Celestia's face from where she was hugging her. Just a corner of eye and twitching, seething frown, but still...
It was hardly long since Celestia was a weeping, shaking mess- and certainly she still shook and wept- but there was a growing sense of... control, there. As her breaths still jumped wildly from deep to shallow, it was no longer great distances. Her shakes still taking her entire body, yet with less regularity and force did she jerk.
And her hoof... was strong. It was not still, nor did her sister seem uncaring of what she was so blatantly proffering, but all the same it kept. It did not retreat of volition, or fall of fear.
And certainly, she did still fear.
Something piteous took hold of her for a single, overpowering second, and her face pinched as she buried it into her sister's side. "Thank you," she murmured, muffledly.
How could she ever repay her? Even to begin?
By the time she'd dried her eyes and removed her face from her sister's side, her savior seemed to have recovered from whatever reverie they'd undergone through her sister's bold, wordless declaration. Staring at her for so long, but then did they sigh.
"Please, forgive this," they whispered, and she felt then her sister turning away. To avert her eyes- and tense through her whole body- must have been the only way to keep the strength of will she'd shown.
But as her savior's horn lit again, and as their cloak lifted, Luna found she could not tear her eyes away. Not even for what impended.
Her sister may have seen the instrument coming forth as a simple knife, but Luna was of the mind that steel- cold and voiceless- so often held a story. And the knife that floated up to rest upon her sister's hoof- as a yellow hoof raised to hold it gently- was yet to tell as it so obviously had.
It was not dull, and so did it glide through a shallow cut of her sister's arm. Teased out a small trickle of red over red with ease, and yet did the plain, grey blade glint. Flesh yielded so cleanly: it was sharp. Hardly did it seem cared for: short and unpolished and wrapped by loose strands of frayed fiber around its grip, but her eyes were keen for detail.
And as the bare, crimson liquid trickled down in timed drips to cover the powders, the knife that floated away caught. Bright light off red oozing over grey: it filled in and showed pattern. The blade was adorned.
And then it was gone. Too fast to see the emblem emblazoned with care into the face of the blade, and all she could remember seeing in the quiet moments after was the slightest edge of a shape.
A shape she'd remember, as a messy ball of pristine gauze replaced the knife, and a much smaller bottle joined it. A small cap- rather than a large cork- uncapped, and some kind of clear liquid was dripped onto a long stretch of the fabric as it earmarked and tore itself off.
Before she'd blinked, the cloth was wrapping around her sister's cut, and the small gasp of pain that brought her sister back to reality was only a drip before each tool was lifted back into the cloak.
Her sister's hoof turned as she inspected the wrap on both sides, but Luna only had eyes for her savior. Leaning down to angle their dark hood at her downed self's body without pause, while her heart took the cause for them.
So quick. So mild mannered- yet so forward. They'd hesitated to ask her sister for something so small as the favor, yet bled and wrapped her so quickly it had seemed most of the work was the ask.
How contradictory in its very premise.
The urge to somehow ask her savior their entire life story was rising by the drip, yet the then and now was not finished. Her sister sighed shakily, as a yellow hoof stretched out to nestle into purple mane again.
"What now?" Celestia whispered, and it sounded like she could only whisper: such was the wear to her voice. The raw tone tugged again at her heart, and her thoughts were drawn away from the most romantic aspects of mysterious saviors as she did her best to hug her cold sister harder.
Her savior seemed to not have heard the low words for a long moment- and she wouldn't have blamed them- but then they retracted their hoof in a slow motion. The sound of shuffling cloak seemed louder to her ears as the unseen pony seemed to... brace themselves.
Their stance lowered, and widened with a soft shuffle as their head raised to an arch. Towering above the three comparatively diminutive forms before them, and it suddenly struck her that the stranger was likely far older than them.
Did that make her heart grow fonder, though?
Luna felt oddly.
"Do not fear," came the rough, yet calming, whisper from that cloaked form. She'd barely begun to ponder what she might possibly fear before the red light of their horn burst, and dimmed.
No... Not dimmed...
Blackened.
Her mouth gaped- and she heard her sister gasp- as something akin to fire leapt from the horn glowing so brilliantly black. The cloth fluttered and swept about in a sudden breeze that whipped her sister's pink mane into her face, but she swatted it away as she remained intently focused and wide-eyed at the sight before her.
The brighter light was above them- but in front of them burned the dark. Like a visible shadow had descended upon those poor few to dare to see it, where it thinly veiled the bright outside to leave nothing but the dancing dim.
And oh, how it danced. Where the dark had consumed the crimson light in an instant, it still fought. Where one color ceased in receding tails of flickering flashes, the other chased it with hot tongues that lashed against their antithesis with deadly intent. A suffering battle for the survival of flush: played about in the air.
It was all strings, and Luna was enthralled.
But as the miasma cavorted on scant high, yet more took stage below, and there did her eye track.
If she'd not known herself to be in a dream before, then surely watching as the powders laid in piles over her body gathered into coalescent embers of red light would have loosed her grip on reality. She could scarce believe her eyes- yet the sight grew all the more fantastical as the rushing wind caught the shards of light: to blow them into an ascent for the skies.
It was nearly playful, how the cinders swayed and dropped away from each other. Coquettish whimsy to the light touches and uncertain leaps away. The sound of crackling flames and screaming wind whorled about her ears, yet it nearly sounded as a symphony for the graced show before her.
She'd never cared for magic. It had always seemed something for her sister, as Luna spent her time honing her blades, and dreaming of the past. And even her sister hadn't seen much success; all she'd ever managed to do were the simplest of spells, and that had been enough for her.
Maybe that's why Luna had dismissed it. Levitation and showers of sparks; she'd never known magic could... be like this.
It was beautiful. The most beautiful thing Luna had ever seen.
She felt restless. It made her want to paint her sky again. Just to see if she could capture... any fraction of the majesty.
Yet, as all things must, it soon ended.
She'd barely taken in any one masterwork of living art before each show was brought to a close in sequence. First did the cinders finally complete their descent, to fall without barrier into her chest. Lights absorbed like dripping drops of water. Then, as her hopes grew with a sudden enragement of the red-and-black flames whirling faster in the air, a sickening crack broke the sound of fire, and she snapped to attention as her double's body convulsed.
Just once did she jerk, but already did she see that her wing had moved. Closer to her side- and those sides were steaming. Each and every cut she could barely see under fur was closing in visible motion of moving flesh; pinks and reds growing shallow until they finished clean.
Even her pale and motionless face seemed to gain color between one flash of the rapidly shifting light. All in one moment: anything she'd seen to mar her coat had been closed. Excepting the blood and the vomit- but who cared?
She sort of did, but she'd woken up relatively clean. It must've been taken care of.
Her eyes stayed stuck to her body- which was now clearly breathing for the first time since she'd seen it- but she still pressed herself closer to Celestia. "Sister, wasn't that beautiful?" she whispered in breathy awe, as the sound of rushing fire dipped out of focus. The brilliant show of light abating.
And it was only then, as she listened for a response that she'd forgotten would not come, that she heard her sister choking.
Awareness rushed in- and her sister was shaking. Worse than ever before, and as Luna turned, she found the side of her sister's face as a deathly profile.
She put herself at hoof's length and turned as much she could to see better, but it was hard to see anything past the anguish cut into every reaching, deep, scrunched line of that frozen expression.
Her mouth open in a silent scream, while her chest moved relentlessly to push whatever air she could find through. Many breaths came out as short, hollow wheezes, though for one moment she stopped for a long moment of utter silence before gasping one, deep breath out. Then, back to the desperate gasping.
"Sister?" she whispered, though she knew in the back of her mind that the concern clawing at her heart was for naught. She reached a shaking hoof out, and touched upon the clenching surface of her sister's cheek, and it was so taut.
Celestia was barely moving: her eyes set straight forward yet jittering uncontrollably. Unfocused on anything, yet for as wide as they were she could have been staring at everything.
The reddish light coloring her face was dying down, but now she was merely shaded in lighter hues that nearly caught the expression better. Made the lines seem that much darker. Made all the emotions seem graver.
What had happened to her? She looked... She looked... Well, if she'd looked traumatized earlier, then she looked... insensate now. Barely conscious, really. Luna found herself waving a hoof in front of her still face for a moment, before she stopped with a seethe as she remembered that Celestia couldn't see her in the first place.
Luna had been so enraptured by the light show, she'd not caught any glimpses of her sister throughout. Whatever had spooked her- had terrified her to the point of total, full-body shock... Luna had missed it.
And that left her not knowing what to do.
...Like she'd be able to do anything, anyway.
Her eye, in its search for any sign of anything helpful, reached low, and caught sight of what her sister still held to her chest. A purple, red-splotched hoof clenched tightly abreast, and the whitish-red limb holding it shook.
But it shook. It moved; tried to keep firm. Unlike her sister's face, it showed life.
And... though it made her feel useless, and awful to her bones, it let her know that her sister would be okay. She'd recover. She... obviously wasn't okay now, but Luna remembered well the sight of her sister's face as she'd woken up.
She'd smiled. Soon, very soon now, she'd smile again.
Luna's head hung, and she sighed, just for herself. A deep, piteous sigh that lasted longer than it should've by any rational means. She rocked back onto her haunches, and clutched her own hoof to her breast, as she just stared down.
The longer she spent here, the more and more she understood of her sister. In new, uncomfortable ways; she wasn't sure she'd ever been so in tune to her kind of thinking. Never had she felt closer, even in being so far away.
Yet, she still didn't...
She shivered, and it wasn't until a moment after that she realized the weird feeling. An odd sense of artificial wrongness, like one would feel at having something caught in their throat. She looked down, to its source, and...
A yellow hoof stretched out from her slightly transparent stomach, holding a plain little cloth.
"Oh," she murmured, and after a moment, she slid to the side. The hoof didn't... catch on any of her body, and just kind of... cut a glowy path through her side: staying outstretched to her sister.
Who was here. And Luna wasn't here. And... if those two ever... intersected, it seemed as though it would just... rectify itself.
She sat again in a comfortable distance away from her sister, who was thankfully looking down at the cloth being offered by her savior. Her hoof touched lightly on the spot where she'd been... pierced, but she didn't... feel anything... off...
Just... weird, to have happen.
She tilted, and looked again at the spot.
She was fine. No scars, or anything. She needed to quit... worrying about it. Dream stuff.
"I'm sorry, I should have warned you. Some ponies feel the effects of my magic... worse than others."
She looked up, and her sister had taken the cloth. Held it close, to Luna's hoof, as her savior, with their head dipped in apology to her, stuttered out in whole sentences. They'd not actually stammered as they'd spoken, but they had hesitated, to say the least of how they weren't even looking at Celestia during.
It hadn't been their wonderful magic that had terrified her sister, had it?
Luna came to her hooves, and the worry of her surprise impaling was forgotten in an instant as her savior took two steps backward. A flash of concern for their cloak getting wet passed over her as her hoof raised to follow, but then the moment washed over her again, and her hoof fell in the same spot as she pursed her lips.
Their cloak probably had a bit more than water to worry about.
She glanced over to her sister- who, similarly, was spattered with dots and scrapes of red all over. Celestia was staring at her savior in much the same way Luna couldn't help herself from doing; her eyes surprisingly dry for once. Her face was still tight with unease and unrest, but a modicum of life had returned along with a little flush on her cheeks.
It was nice to see. Made her feel a little better.
"Your sister will wake soon, none the worse for wear," came the soft murmur from her savior, and she looked back as their hood turned bashfully away. "Her body has been restored, and each of her injuries cared for."
It was a moment of silence that quickly grew awkward as her sister didn't respond: only continued staring. Eventually, her savior slowly turned back to her sister, and nodded somewhat shortly. "You... should clean her up. Make her decent. I'm... sure you two have a lot to talk about..."
The halting tone and obvious pauses each an opportunity for her sister to jump in, but every time she looked expectantly to her for the awaited 'thanks,' she only found Celestia still... staring. Wide eyes and closed mouth in a frown. Stock still, and not prostrated in gratitude.
It was rude, no matter how affected her sister was. Her savior deserved...
Luna turned, and opened her mouth to give her own thanks. If her real self wasn't able to, and her sister was too deadened for niceties, then she'd just do it herself.
...And then she closed her mouth because this was a dream. And her real self was still unconscious.
She clopped her hoof to her forehead as her savior turned, and began to slough their way through the stream. She looked mournfully after them as they trudged out of the scene, then back to her sister still staring after them.
This wasn't right. They'd saved her life. They'd not asked for anything, least of all thanks, but deeds deserved. If they left now, without having... anything to show for the encounter, then...
She looked to her savior, stepping out of the water and shaking their hooves dry, then back to her sister sitting stilly, as she felt her face begin to grow hot. Her nose felt scrunched.
...How were they ever going to remember her?
Luna turned from her sister, intent on following after her savior. One step into the stream, and she looked down, then looked forward as her next step landed on the suddenly solid surface of the water. What was the point in wading if she didn't need to?
She'd scurried halfway across the mirror-like plane of water, knowing again in the back of her mind that she wouldn't be able to do anything, but dreams be damned if she couldn't somehow make the sentiment travel. She'd... try to get a dream message to them, or something.
It was about there that she stopped.
"Don't come back."
It was a combination of the surprise and the slightly scary feeling of walking on water that made her trip- not because she was clumsy.
Her face impacted with the surface of the water- and she wished that she'd put less effort into remembering that it was solid and more into imagining that it was soft. Her muzzle twinged with pain that faded in a thought, and she pushed herself up onto her hooves with a groan.
But that groan cut off as she remembered why she'd tripped, and then she twisted her half-prone body around with her mouth open in an affronted frown.
How could she say that?!
"Sister!" The rebuke was unnecessary and unheard, and Celestia only continued to stare out past her. Her face was as still as it had been, but now there was... something else, and it gave Luna a moment of pause.
It wasn't just her face that was still anymore. Her rising chest was slow and easy, and her hooves were calm. Her eyes no longer shook with unfocused, fearful energy, and instead were... hard.
Hard in a way that she'd never seen from her.
Quiet. Steady.
Steel.
It... sort of... frightened her.
Her breath was picking up from more than just her fall, and it didn't ease as she turned away from the sight of her sister cradling her own body. Instead, she focused on her savior: thankless and cursed. They'd reached the far end of the clearing by then, at the precise precipice of overgrown foliage, but they were looking back, too. At her sister.
And... she knew she still couldn't see their face, but as they then turned back to their path, and took their first step out of the clearing, Luna couldn't help but imagine she'd seen something, there. Something very dire about that unseen expression.
For a single moment, shining through the veil of their cloak, she swore they'd looked... sad.
She swallowed, and there was a lump in her throat as she turned just her head. To look at her sister, as she now looked down at Luna's body. Eyes traveling between her and the cloth in her hoof, and it only occurred to her then why her sister had made her take a bath when she'd woken up.
She looked out after her savior's departure- or where they'd departed- then back to her sister again.
Her sister was waiting for her.
But Luna needed to know.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, and she turned away from her sister. She knew where Celestia was going. She knew what Celestia was doing. It was going to be hard, and even if it hurt, Luna knew she should have stayed with her, and kept her company at the least.
But she knew where Celestia was going. She knew was Celestia was doing.
She'd be waiting when she woke up.
Luna looked ahead as her face twisted in regret, but she swallowed the feeling down, and began a quick trot after her savior. The spot where they'd left the clearing was close, but indistinct. If she didn't get after then soon, she'd lose them.
Her hooves left solid water and touched solid ground, and she quickened her pace as the unnoticeable squeezing feeling in her guts abated. Even with all her limited experience with flying, it still weirded her out to stand on something she shouldn't have been able to.
There was too much unanswered. Everything... everything she'd learned about her savior, with their magical cloak, and their medicinal acumen, and their incredible spell... it all just made her want to know more.
She wanted to know them. She wanted to thank them.
She came to and brushed past the fronds her savior had gone by, and continued to-
Step out into a white void.
She jumped back in shock as her wings unfurled, as the first thought that came to her mind was 'falling.' Not more than a few steps out from where the clearing turned into forest did the scene just... stop. The plants ended in a line, the sky above ceased to be, and even a tree stood as a half between white and brown.
Luna blinked, and rubbed her eyes as her wings kept her aloft. But even then, as her vision unfuzzed, the only thing that greeted her was a vast expanse of- well, nothing. No trees. No greens. No forest.
It was a bit like how her dreams first were when she slept in the tree, and as she realized that, she let her wings tentatively lower her to what she hoped was ground.
And, it was ground. It was not painted or naturalized, but it supported her all the same. She took a small hop, and the white did not give way. Did not waver, and Luna took another step forward.
It was just like her dreams. And-
Oh.
Luna turned, and it was gone. The forest behind her was no longer there, and all that was, was a lone door standing plainly in the white.
A white door painted in frilly loops, with an odd circle carved into the exact middle of it. Closed.
She couldn't hear the bubbling anymore.
She'd stepped out of her sister's dream.
A tired sense of exasperation crept up over her as she groaned, and let her butt fall to the ground. But even then, her shoulders still felt heavy, so she tilted over and fell onto her back.
Staring up at the blank sky with her hooves spread out around her, and a total sense of failure resting on her.
Of course trying to leave the clearing would lead her here. Her sister hadn't gone after the stranger, so obviously there'd be nothing there.
...She'd thought it 'obvious,' but it was quite a bit of a shock.
Luna let her hooves come up and cross behind her head, supporting her as she cast a leery glance at the door in front of her.
A lot about this whole experience wasn't adding up. When she'd first gone through the door, she'd been dropped somewhere random in the forest. Not in the clearing- and she was beginning to think she hadn't even been close. She'd only been able to find it by using... weird... dream magic.
That was when things had become especially odd. When she'd transported herself to the stream, the light had shifted. Not only that: the circumstances of the dream itself had changed. From that point, things had been oddly affected by what she was assuming was her sister's remembrance of the events.
But her sister hadn't wandered around in the woods for what felt like a pot, had she? Why had Luna been able to walk around in what- as made apparent by her current location- should have been void-y non space? Why hadn't she been able to now?
Luna clicked her tongue, and returned her gaze up to the sky. She blinked, and there was a drawn little circle of charcoal on the canvas above her. She focused, and then there was a floating pin that read 'sister' in neat writing in the middle of it.
Another moment passed, and then there was an identical circle floating to the right of it with its own little pin that read 'me.'
She took a moment to stare at it, and after a heated debate with herself, the little pin that read 'me' turned into a little pin that read 'us.' Because it made her feel a little better.
Luna had gone to sleep, and ended up in the circle on the right. Her own dream. She'd wanted to get into the circle on the left. Her sister's dream.
She'd needed to make the two intersect.
In a moment, the two circles with their pins and all floated closer, and overlapped their edges. About half of each circle lay inside the other, and between them stood a shared space. In this smaller space, Luna imagined another pin that read 'memory,' and there it was.
There were three spaces, and she'd made a distinction for a reason. There was Luna's dream. There was Celestia's dream. And then there was...
The memory.
This was the first theory that had come to Luna's mind, and it made a lot of sense. If she had started in her own dream with the intent on going to her sister's memory- well, she'd not succeeded, had she?
The pin that read 'us' floated from the circle on the right, and tentatively, Luna let it float into the circle to share space with 'sister.'
She'd not made it to the memory. She'd been focused entirely on getting into her sister's dream, and... that's where she'd ended up. The left, rather than the middle.
Luna nodded to herself, looking up at the two pins that read 'us' and 'sister.' After a moment of staring at the two plain little squares of paper, she blinked, and one was suddenly colored blue while the other was colored pink.
Yes. She'd first gone to her sister's dream instead of her memory. But then, as she'd wandered endlessly and eventually had her idea, she'd done a better job.
Standing there with her hoof on that root, she'd had a few little visualizations to help her along. When she'd tried to focus on the image of the stream, she'd imagined the root she was standing on as a little larger. Much larger, really- she'd imagined herself stepping over a great gap.
And as she'd passed that gap, she'd arrived to the third location. The memory.
She took a moment of staring, and, as her eyes narrowed, the little square that read 'memory' slowly turned red.
And then, the blue pin found a new home between the circles.
Luna blinked, and the circles were all gone. Her hooves tracked down and leveraged her up to a sitting position, and there she sat as she stared at the door.
She'd started in her dream, then gone to her sister's- which was why she'd been able to wander about in the forest- then found her way into her sister's memory- which explained all the inconsistent oddities- then she'd left the memory and come back here.
A roundabout trip back to her own dream having seen everything she'd gone to see. Dreams and memories had identifiable differences, and she knew now what had happened after she'd crashed.
She swallowed, and her eyes narrowed on the door. The white door with the odd circle standing closed, but still there.
That wasn't really what she wanted, anymore.
It made her feel bad.
Once again, Luna stood in the clearing of her near-death. Physically, it hadn't been all that hard to come back. Stepping through the door had been the first part, and while she'd been left standing uselessly in the forest again, it had been surprisingly easy to do what she'd done before.
Even easier to imagine a particular time to pop into now that she'd gained greater understanding of what exactly she was doing. If the timeline of events was just that: a line of time, then she just had to pick a different point on the line. Placing herself not at the start of the memory, but just a little further on.
Well, near the end actually.
"Don't come back."
Luna huffed a hot sigh as the words rang out from far behind her. She had her attention focused on her savior- turned her sister's way far behind the both of them- but hearing those cold words still kind of hurt. And she wasn't even the intended...
She'd thought she was understanding her sister better, but now...
It didn't seem Celestia. When she imagined her sister in conversation with another pony, or their parents, she'd always thought of how kind her sister would be. So perfectly able to be amiable. Princess Perfect.
This wasn't her. This wasn't kind. And she didn't understand.
But- that was a worry for later, when she saw her sister in pony, if even then. Now, Luna had to cast it all aside. All the blood, and the emotions left in refuse behind her, as her savior in front of her turned to leave.
She needed to follow, and she didn't have all that much time in this instance to figure out how.
They were turned now, and taking their first step out, and Luna was immediately on their heels. Close enough to touch their cloak, but she knew physical distance wouldn't matter. She could jump forward and latch right onto the covered back, and though that sounded like so much fun, it wouldn't do anything. She'd probably fall flat on her face as they stepped past the line, and her savior ceased to exist.
It was alright; her diagram earlier had greatly helped her conceptualize this. They were currently in her sister's memory, which lay at a somewhat disconnected juncture between her own dreams connected to her sister's. Less of a true overlap and more of a strange, undefined shape that kept distinct from both but still needed them to exist.
What would that shape look like? Certainly, she couldn't picture it, but it existed as she was able to imagine the idea of it.
Aside the point- she needed to get to her savior's dream to follow them out. A fourth circle that, somehow, intersected with this memory but not either of their dreams.
Now that was a weird circle.
They were halfway gone, and even as fast as Luna was thinking, she was running out of time and room. Her nose was practically to the covered arch of their tail, and she could already picture walking out into that white void again.
There was just no time to think deeply about odd shapes- how did she usually dreamwalk? At its basest level?
She felt. She imagined. Her will ferried her.
So, she needed to feel. She needed to imagine something.
She needed out of her sister's dream- but not into her own. Carry her beyond! Her savior- whatever their name was- they were here. Now that her head knew of them, she could- she could track them.
Believe it. She needed to believe it. As leaves brushed against her cheeks, she needed to believe that she was following them. Not just into the void, she was following their memory.
The shrouded pony. She was following them.
Out of her sister's dream- stay connected to them. To her savior. From two intersecting circles, to fall into a third.
Something... was happening. As she walked forward, something was... dragging... her...
Her hooves felt heavy, and her head was... kind of... starting to... burn..!
Luna gasped as her vision gradually fuzzed over, and she was less certain of her next step. The scene around her was beginning to... blur, and... slow down... Turn... gray..?
Distance didn't matter. Her savior's mind was connected to this dream whether they knew it or not, and Luna was following them back. She could do it. Was doing it.
Everything was... swimming... Her savior was still in front of her, but... was Luna still walking? Everything seemed... muggy...Heavy...
The connection between minds even in passing is like a tether, and it can be traced. Followed, from either end to its opposite. All it needs is a trace. Any mark is a mark made, and a mark made is concrete. Stable.
Every step was across mountains, and each breath was her last. The pain in her head had risen to splitting levels, and every moment that she hadn't passed out was a miracle.
She couldn't feel. Why could she feel?
Her eyes fluttered, and her jaw shuddered, and her gut clenched. She took another step, the world shattered, and she was sure then that she would collapse.
But still, her mind worked.
Dreams exist in parallel to the waking world, and the mind is their connection. As the mind can be explored from the outside in the waking world, the dream world is where it may be explored from the inside. And thus, the dream world is the true realm of the mind.
A memory is yet another kind of dream. To shape it: an art; to bridge them: foal's play.
You may walk them. There is no distance. Minds yield, as do doors.
It's your destiny.
She took a step forward.
Luna blinked, and her savior walked out in front of her. Into the flush woods in front of both of them, stretching out in a narrow path that lead in a swerve around a tree.
Luna blinked, and looked down, as she raised her hoof.
The sound of her savior trotting away was as clear as the sound of the babbling brook behind them, but... they could... wait a moment...
Her head didn't hurt. Her hooves weren't heavy. She didn't feel like vomiting, like, at all.
She blinked, and her next breath smelled like apples. Because she'd imagined it, and it let her know she was still dreaming.
And that she'd done it. She'd made it.
She cast her eye up, and jumped to attention as she saw her savior rounding the tree far ahead of them.
"No- no- no- no- no- no- no- no..." she muttered relentlessly as she leapt forward on quick hooves. She'd gone through something awful to get here: she wasn't going to just waste this chance by standing around!
But as she chased after the form of her savior, she let herself smile. Rounded the bend, and caught a glimpse of a black cloak fluttering behind a bush, and followed as her heart leapt.
She could feel it. In the back of her mind, she could feel it.
The connection. What tied her dream to her savior's memory. It wasn't like her sister's- this was a stranger whose real body could have been anywhere in the realm. There was a tangible line she could just... feel in her mind.
It was likely necessary. She couldn't just tap into this dream like she had with her sister, she'd needed to force her way in. That might've been all the... pain, and whatnot.
Interesting that the act was so in line with her visualizations that it had resulted in an actual sort of mental line to connect them.
And as she focused, and brushed past vines towards the sounds of cracking branches, she could see where it lead. Back to a plain white void, with a door standing as entrance to nowhere laid slightly ajar.
A door that... she could picture...
Dark brown, almost black. Simple wooden planks. A handle kept with a sturdy-looking wrought iron padlock.
And in the middle: a carved, colored picture of a flower. A single-stemmed, drooping flower that capped in five sickly, brown petals.
Six. One petal had just fallen off, and floated away. Wilted.
Her work imagining a strangely fitting door for a pony she'd never met was interrupted as she finally caught up to her savior. Less that she'd gone very fast and more that they'd actually just stopped. In the middle of a clearing, with their hooded head tilted up to the sky.
Luna came up behind them then, craning her neck up for a moment but not seeing whatever they were looking at. She hummed in interest as she walked up to stand just behind them, and the sound of rustling cloth caught her eye back down as-
As their hood lifted up over their head, and they shook their snowy white mane out into the air.
Luna's jaw dropped, and truly, she was left speechless for a long moment as her savior's yellowed fur and short, white mane were bared. Two yellow ears sitting in perfect shape rising from a shaggy neck-length mane, and she could see little beyond the back of their slightly light green-freckled neck. Barely even that with how tall they were.
But Luna didn't care. Because this was it. This was them. They, who'd saved her life. He- as she could tell with more clarity now- who'd walked into and out of her life without her even knowing it.
The first stranger she'd ever met, and she'd not been conscious.
Buckin' figured.
His voice drew her out of her spacy reverie, and she leaned forward as he sighed. Sighed... wetly?
Her heart froze and shattered as her savior sniffled in that refined, grating voice of his, and the back of a yellow hoof came up to rub at his face that she couldn't see.
He was sad. Her sister had hurt him with that horrible thing she'd said.
Luna's expression became soft, and she took a step forward with her hoof raised to comfort. Again: a memory, and this one of somepony she didn't even know, but she could be forgiven for getting a little dreamy about the colt that had saved her life!
But again, his voice stopped her. Wet and mumbled regretfully, and with an odd little bit of heat.
"Didn't even find the stupid tree..."
That was what had given her pause, because she'd become immediately confused. As her savior sniffled deeply and raised his head to the bright sky with a sigh, she just put her hoof down, and stared oddly.
He... knew they were in a forest, right?
She shook her head, and clopped her hoof to her forehead. Of course he must have been looking for a specific tree. There were regular old trees everywhere, stupid.
But what tree, though?
She returned to attention, intent on eavesdropping even more, yet she was met with...
His eyes. Wide, and locked directly onto hers.
Her own eyes went wide as her savior's face was now turned directly her way, and she could see every facet of his slightly gaunt, slightly teary expression. Wide, red eyes rimmed with dark circles and wet with tears, sunken cheeks freckled again in nearly minty green, mouth gaping slightly open, and a yellow horn rising from a completely unkempt, white mane that dipped just above his eyeline.
His hoof hovered uncertainly under his head, and as her eye flicked between staring in panic at the two things, and she began to formulate escape plans, and she realized that he stood over a whole head taller than her, it finally hit her again that she was in a dream.
That was right. This... was just a dream. He couldn't have been staring at her, there must've been something behind her that captured his interest. She was fine. Everything was fine.
She breathed a small breath of relief as she let her hoof rest on her chest, and the extreme height of panic began to reduce. She even smiled slightly at herself as her breaths steadied, and she returned her focus again to her savior.
He was looking calmer too- and more importantly, not looking directly at her, anymore. He obviously hadn't been staring at her, and now he was just looking to the side slightly awkwardly as her rubbed his hoof against his leg. Coughed once, and sniffled again.
What was behind her, though? It must've been something pretty shocking to-
His eye flicked back to her, and then his head turned back around. His eye caught hers directly, and her smile disappeared in an instant as her heart dropped. "So... you recovered pretty quickly, huh? Did your... um... sister..? Did she... um..."
He was talking to her. To her.
Luna screamed. Leapt up into the air away as her savior's eyes went wide, and they took a step back.
She pulled on the line. Yanked on it in panic.
The last thing she saw was the frightened confusion on his face as everything sucked itself away.
Awareness returned, and she was in the void.
It was familiar. It was comforting. As Luna opened her eyes, she knew that she didn't need them.
She was in her own dream, and everything was okay again.
She sat up, taking deep breaths as her hooves supported her. Blinked, and there was a shelf holding two pots somewhere behind her.
She knew how her sister hated the noise, and she wasn't all that loving of it either, but she couldn't help how calm it made her feel!
Her head was soon filled with the soft sounds of dripping, and as she took yet another deep breath, she finally chose to acknowledge the door in front of her.
It was not white. It was not frilly. It was brown, and plain, and locked with an unusually heavy lock, and had the exact picture of a wilted flower that she'd imagined carved into its middle.
The door to her savior's dream. Not his memory; she'd been in his dream.
It was so obvious now. In hindsight, it made complete sense. She'd come halfway again, and rather than entering her savior's sterile memory of what had happened, she'd entered his dream of the events as he was dreaming. That was actually him.
Just her luck. Was he asleep right now? Had he just happened to be having the perfect dream at this exact moment, or was that just some... afterimage? Maybe she'd influenced him somehow... If he was just dreaming, then maybe she'd accidentally forced his unconscious mind to meld to what she'd wanted...
Scary thought, but even scarier was...
The creaking of a door being opened.
Luna's fiftieth deep breath caught in her throat, and she swore she could see her own death again as the door in front of her began to slowly open. Bit by bit, creaking open slowly, and all she could do was watch.
Until a yellow head topped with a shaggy white mane slowly extended out from the crack: angled up towards the plain white sky as more of his body stepped out.
"What in the unseen heavens..?" came the whisper from his lips, and Luna was suddenly very aware that this was a dream. Her dream.
He'd followed her back into her dream.
Luna screamed, again, and her savior's head whipped her direction with as much fear in his eyes as she felt in her breast.
She scrabbled backwards on her butt, chanting something as loudly in her head as she could as she continued to scream, while the stranger in her dream stepped more of himself out of the door with some kind of appeasement on his frantically stuttering lips.
But she didn't listen.
Wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up-
When Luna opened her eyes again, there was a shining light far above her, and a shadow over her.
She groaned heavily, and as there was a splitting pain in her head that didn't go away with her wish, she was sure that she was awake. The awful light in her eyes was a good signifier, too, and she threw an aching hoof over her face to block it.
Something was pulling at her head- her upper body- and something warm was wrapping around her ears. Something soft was stroking over the hot skin under her mane, and something comforting was whispering along her ear.
She shifted her hoof and opened her eyes, and a soft, white face peered back at her from upside-down.
A sigh. Concerned. "I really wish you'd stop sleeping up in that tree, Lulu."
A pause. Heavy. "I don't like it when you fall."
Everything hit her all at once.
Luna turned- flipped herself over as her sister gasped quietly, and pushed herself forward as quickly as she could until her face was in the soft and her hooves were around breathing midriff.
Soft that was warm. Midriff that had give.
She'd been thinking about what to do when she woke up. When she saw her.
How best to thank her. How best to explain. How best to tell her how much she loved her.
But there was nothing to say.
She tightened her grip as much as she could through the creeping weakness, as she tried in vain not to shake. "We don't care much for falling, either," she mumbled, and her sister laughed softly at her. The sweetest noise in the world.
It was light out. Dappling the woods in bright, shining hues that caught on the edges of lush growth. All the leaves on the trees-too-dense barely letting any of it down, yet some faint traces still managed to overpower the canopy. Yellowing the world in blinding tones, and lengthening the crawling shadows of branches over trodden grasses.
How long had it been?
The air was cool despite the shine, and even she felt it nipping at her coat. She shivered, despite the light over her mane, and clutched her hooves closer to herself. The hard, wooden step under her bore none of the lingering heat as it had when she'd sat down, and she felt none from the hug of her own body.
How long had it been?
Her jaw ached with the too-intense desire to yawn, but she bit it back for the sake of her pinching eyes. She'd been counting the distant drips echoing out from behind her, but she'd long since lost track. At some point it had just become something to do, and now she was just mindlessly listening to it empty. She'd been awake since she'd filled it, and she knew she'd have to stay awake until it was done.
Because there was nopony else to fill it.
One quiet motion from behind her grabbed her failing attention, and though her eyes did not move from their vigil, she smiled slightly at the sound of hoofsteps on wood drawing close.
The door creaked, and a hoof laid over her shoulder. Began to rub in a small circle, and she leaned her body into the small presence that pressed blessed warmth into her side. She forced her tired throat to rise in a hum, and her sister hummed softly back.
"How long has it been?" softly asked the smaller-than-her pony that was wrapping a welcome hoof around her side and nuzzling into her neck. Warm breath washing over her shoulder in a sigh.
Celestia closed her tired eyes, and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to open them again as the familiar warmth of her sister lulled her.
"I don't know," she answered, and her voice was hoarse.
Her sister was asleep. And Luna knew it wouldn't last.
It seemed like she was always tired, recently. Like she could never get enough sleep for how long she was staying awake. Like she could never get enough rest for all she was doing, and she knew how much she did.
Luna was tired too. But Luna was always tired.
She'd taken her sister's place at the doorstep, and there she'd sit for however long until she broke her promise and went searching into the woods. She knew her sister wanted them to just stay put as they'd been told, but it had been...
Luna shifted on the warm step of wood, and cast her eye up. To the canopy above that had kept light for pots.
Well... she didn't really know how long it had been, now.
Drips passed, and lines filled, and it was all too soon before the pot was empty. The constant sound had ceased, yet it was not Luna's job to again wind that dial. Her sister would take care of it as she awoke, and then, Luna would have her own rest.
It was sad, Luna idly mused, that they'd seen so little of each other lately. Celestia had wanted at least one of them awake at all times, and with the chores piling up, there just wasn't much time to speak.
It hurt, to no seeming end. After her accident, and the wonderful reconciliation in few words they'd had after, to now feel so distant to her loving sister was...
She shook her head, and she swore she felt cobwebs dust off her mane.
It made her feel sort of sick. Like... the things they'd both agreed to do were somehow... wrong.
The step was cold, and so was she as she stood. Her bones creaked and her muscles ached from her lengthy time spent sitting, so she stretched each of her legs out behind her as she took weary steps forward. Soft grass underhoof that poked uncomfortably at her frogs, and it wasn't the first time Luna had wished that this was all just a dream.
She took a moment to stare back at the entrance to their home behind her. Weighing how long she had to search the forests before her sister would awake for her watch, and Luna could sleep.
She knew it was pointless, but she just... couldn't sit around for pots. She couldn't just wait, like Celestia.
She just couldn't handle that heartbreak.
Then she turned, let her wings unfurl, and took off into the scratchy brush.
The sound of carrots chopping was empty, as Celestia brought the knife to bear. Rows of uneven slices pushed to the side, laid into a pile that she'd soon throw over a firepan. The smoky smell of the embers she'd started in the hearth was already filling her head; the hard sounds of her falling knife each a small shock that brought her out of the fog.
There was no admonishment as she glanced away and let it fall too sharply; only the noise of dull metal on hard wood ringing startlingly in her ear. There was no chatter in the background about the pot's minutia, and no busy movement creaking across the worn floorboards.
Her eyes were still heavy from when she'd woken up, and the sound of dripping and soft snores echoing through the house was still too quiet.
It was all too quiet. For too long, it had been too quiet.
Another carrot finished and pushed to the side, and she reached for the next one. Her attention was elsewhere, her blind hoof grasped at air, and she seethed as her busy hoof went too-fast-too-quick.
Something red and too familiar dripped and stained onto the wood, and Celestia bit back an unmannerly curse as she let the knife fall to the table; clutching her stinging, bleeding hoof as squeezed her eyes shut. Cut herself chopping carrots.
Maybe she really was a screw-up.
She glanced skittishly to the side as her mind raced for a solution, and almost expected to see concerned eyes staring back at her. To hear some sweet concern, and to feel the embarrassment of being fretted over. It would've been familiar. Welcome.
But, of course, there was nopony there. It was quiet.
Her task of chopping was forgotten as she limped out to the main room, gnawing a worry into her lip as the sound of water dripping grew louder. She passed the pots on one side, and slowed to take note of the time.
Just under four lines. Not that it mattered so much, anymore. They barely lived by it recently.
She took care to not let the small ooze of blood drip and stain the floor as she found the small cupboard filled with cloth scraps, and hurriedly pulled out a short length of patchy grey. She folded it in half by its length, then let her horn alight to take it into the air. One wrap around the cut on her hoof, and she pulled the ends into a tight, messy bow.
She stared at the unfitting wrap for a moment, and for that moment, as the sound of dripping filled her head, it was a little harder than normal to forget.
To remember that the cloth was not white, and her fur was not stained red.
Celestia shook the memories away, and the heady scent of iron faded as she stood and turned to return to her task. Passed a closed door on her way through, and found herself slowing thoughtfully to a halt. She found herself staring at it for longer than she'd meant to, as her mind wandered again, and something scratchy wormed around her chest.
Her eye flicked down to her hoof, and then back to the door.
She'd been thinking too much, and she needed to stop. She needed peace of mind.
She tried not to let the door creak too loudly as she just took a faster-than-fast little peer into the shadowed room within.
Soft snoring, and a lump under the covers of a bed in the corner. The lump was moving; it was breathing.
Just... to make sure she was still... there. Still fine. Everything was fine.
Celestia shut the door as quietly as she could, and there was no sound from within as she listened. She took a long, deep breath that she tilted her head up into, before she finished with a nod, opened her eyes, and turned to go finish making whichever meal it was.
Her shoulder ached with tired exertion, yet still she darted forward to hang low and swipe out with her knife. Another score across its extremely scarred face, and she jumped to the side as she anticipated a downward swing.
Her breathing was off-center; it always seemed to be recently. The vital energy just didn't come as easily as it used to, and her hoof felt heavier than it should've as it took her entire weight and sprung her back towards the log. Her stone dagger sunk into the pale flesh of the log with the heft of her thrown weight, and she took a moment to cough out a deep breath as the side that she'd thrown into the wood throbbed.
Then, she let her ragged breath rise in a yell, and forced her knife out through its side.
Splinters flew in a shower of imaginary blood, and Luna caught herself in her unsteady stumble to hop back; the second knife in her second hoof twirling around as she let her wings carry her into the air. She kept her right close to her chest with its held blade out, as her left swung about in the air beside her.
Her chest heaved hot breath through her gaping mouth, and her eyes narrowed to slits on the sight of her enemy. One slash across the crest of their chest, and a hoof-deep stab into where she was sure the heart was. If they were heavily armored, then they'd have survived... If not, they'd be dead...
She coughed again, deeply, and blinked as everything blurred for a moment. She caught her breath and held it as her lungs screamed, and she locked her hooves in a ready stance in front of her. Eyes twitching, and frown twisting oddly.
Luna had to be ready for either possibility. Combat was a thousand branching paths of contradicting outcomes, and a warrior had to consider each and every one of them. No matter the wear. No matter the injury.
But what was the point?
Her back hooves found the ground, and her knives were tossed aside as she sank down to all fours. Sank lower, and she was spitting hot breath at the sandy ground. Another moment, and her back legs gave out as her cheek kissed the floor.
She just... couldn't catch her breath, was all. She just... needed... a moment...
How many more moments do you have to spare?
She squeezed her eyes closed as she continued to draw in shallow breaths, and only barely found the strength to swat at the buzzing fly in her ear.
She didn't need this. She just... she didn't want to talk, right now, alright?
You have avoided speaking since they left. You must speak.
Luna gasped in another desperate breath, and rolled herself onto her side as it did so little. Curled her damp, dirty, pounding hooves close, and touched her nose to their crossing as little shakes rattled through her.
She didn't want to. She wanted to keep waiting.
You cannot wait forever.
Celestia wanted to.
Your sister is as lost as you are.
She knew that.
Then why do you continue to wait?
Something snapped in that moment, and suddenly biting her lip wasn't good enough.
Her cheek wet, and a sob broke free as she curled closer in on herself. The light that had continued to shine overhead for too many pots to count burned her coat as she began to cry; entirely alone in the sandy clearing where she'd learned to fight.
Celestia hummed a wordless tune as she looked out into the brightly lit growth, and her sister hummed alongside her. It was not even. It was not pitched. It wasn't the same tune.
But still, they hummed.
The air was still cool, and the sun still laid at apex in the sky, but even the monotony had a certain charm. With her sister pressed into her side keeping her warm, looking at the same shadows as she: it didn't matter how long it would last.
Her smile, kept for however long she'd been sitting, felt worn, but she kept it even as her sister's hum gradually petered off. Kept humming on her own, as her sister shuffled into her side. This was all she needed. They could keep going.
Her sister leaned away, and her smile cracked.
"We can't keep waiting like this," Luna whispered, and Celestia shook her head at the hollowed voice. Tried to keep her smile even as her heart wavered.
"We have to," she whispered thinly back, and she could feel another crack in her smile. That was fine. Everything was fine.
She felt the comforting weight of her sister again as she pushed her face into her side, and of course she nestled her closer. Let her hoof hug her sister closer, as she felt her fur grow wet.
"They're not coming back," came Luna's muffled whisper through her fur, and Celestia blinked the hot feeling in her face away. Ignored it.
She shook her head. "You don't know that," she murmured, as something salty dripped down into her half-smile. This could last.
Her sister began to shake against her, and Celestia let her shift around into her lap. Held her close. Let the soft, shaking sobs die into her coat as she rested her chin on her head, and whispered sweet silences as she stroked her mane.
And still, she looked forward; tears falling down her wobbling frown as she cradled her sister. Hummed a broken tune and rocked her body as she did her best to soothe her weeping sister.
Both of them still waiting for the sight of their parents coming home.
Luna's hooves were busily set to wrapping fabric. Kneading it into tight little balls and folding it into neat little squares; some in every kind for every unenviable situation. They had a lot of it in the little space where they kept it, and surely, they would need it.
For gauze. For warmth. For water. For food. It was multipurpose; they could use it to help with anything. Anything that might happen, no matter how long they were gone, they would need to be prepared for. Luna wouldn't accept anything less.
And so, as they'd discussed how best to prepare for a trip outside, Celestia had been the first to suggest a store of cloth. It made Luna a little embarrassed that she hadn't thought of it first, but of course it was a good idea. A great idea, even. As light as it was, cloth scraps were one of the few things they would be able to have an abundance of on the road.
Lest they forget: they'd be hauling whatever they were bringing. The thought was certainly an effective deterrent to any hoarding fantasies, and she'd had more than a few moments of solid regret as she imagined the weight.
Her eye dipped from her work, and her hooves slowed as the sound of a door closing caught her ear. She turned to the kitchen as her sister trot hurriedly through the door, and past where Luna sat.
She followed her path out of the corner of her eye as Celestia silently swept away into their own room, leaving the door behind her open, but then did she turn around fully to stare at the other door on the same wall.
A closed door barring an empty room.
The sound of wood clattering aside and magic shimmering in the air floated out from where her sister had gone, and so Luna only stared for another moment before she turned and focused herself back on her own job.
Crops taken from her mother's garden; baskets woven by her mother's hooves. The stems and the roots and the chaff all separated by her own toil. Lines spent sitting in the bushy patches of mulched soil that she'd taken to watering herself, working her hooves over and over the greens and the refuse.
The carrots needed cutting of their stems, but even those she set aside to put into their own basket. Her hooves down low to pull at dirt-covered stalks, and her magic up high to pluck not-so-ripe fruits. The seeds separated from their prickly, pokey chaff, but she'd keep it all anyway.
Her mother had taught her that everything had a use. Nothing wasted for energy spent, and even inedible parts had their place. Weaving. Burning. Maybe even to eat in the absence of something better.
Given a wash first. Maybe two.
The first three baskets were ready, and small enough to carry two at a time on her back. Jostling against each other, but sturdy enough that she didn't have to keep steady balance. Each were as full as she could gather for, and each had taken her the better part of a respective pot.
Oh, a pot as well. They'd need water to travel.
She'd pulled the cart up to the front of the cabin, and she angled herself toward it as she passed through the front door; making a note to herself to begin boiling some water. The smaller-than-her figure of her sister was idling at its back, and for whatever reason, Celestia slowed to a halt at the beaten cart's side.
Just watched her, for a moment. Watched her reared up into the little barrow's space with her hooves shuffling around in a small box placed inside. The only thing there.
She'd not taken long to finish gathering the cloth, had she?
Celestia took a short breath, and bounced the precarious baskets on her back. With all the work she'd done for the pot, her tired, dirt-smeared legs were beginning to cramp, and she didn't want to stand around staring wistfully for longer than she needed to.
She made her way briskly forward, and came up to her sister's side. Let her hip bump against hers, and eyed her back as her attention was caught.
"Hey," she greeted, but it came out quieter than she'd meant. A bit more grim. Celestia tried not to frown too much as her sister stared at her for a moment, before turning back into the cart and closing the woven straw box.
"Hey," came the quiet greeting back, and it was silent for a moment more as Luna stepped backwards out of the open back of the wagon. Her hoof lingered on its side, and she stared down into it, away from where Celestia could see her face.
Luna seemed to hesitate in a jerkish glace to the side, before she sighed in a tired way that she'd heard too much of lately. She turned, and two blue eyes came around to stare at her. "Art thou still... alright with leaving so hastily?" she spoke quietly, almost nervously, but it still brought a slight smile to Celestia's face to hear her sister's odd way of speaking. It always did.
She shook her head, and she felt the worn smile just a little more genuinely to see the concern on her sister's face. "I gathered up all the food, didn't I?" She hopped her back leg a little, making the baskets bounce and drawing her sister's eye behind her.
Luna stepped off and away from the cart and then towards her: Celestia following the motion with her eye as her sister hummed questioningly. Her anxiousness seemingly forgotten in obtrusive curiosity. "Oh? What are these, then?"
She turned her head, and nearly answered fast enough before Luna had leaned up onto her side and lifted up the first basket's top. "Well, that one is..." Her sister grimaced in disgust, and put the basket top down. "...chaff, as you can see," she finished, and hummed a quirked little laugh at her sister's twisted expression.
Luna turned, and her eyes rolled as she lolled her tongue out in a gag to her face, but Celestia only quietly laughed again. After a moment, Luna's sickened face turned up in a grin, and she began to laugh too. A little harder than her, but Luna was always a bit jovial.
Feeling daring: Celestia swung her hip away, and the hoof Luna had been supporting herself with slid with it as she was left grasping at air. She swiped for a hold for a moment as she stumbled, but then Celestia swung her hip back in again with a giggle, and bumped her flank into Luna's dipping face.
Her sister fell onto her butt then her back in sequence, and Celestia almost expected Luna to roll over and start slinging insults as she stood there, hoof to mouth, giggling at what she'd done. But as her sister got her hooves up under her, there was only a smile on her grass-smudged face, and she just snorted, and burst out laughing up at her again.
It was easy in a way she'd not felt for a long time. It was fun. It felt so natural.
It felt...
The soft laugh that she'd barely had time to cherish died in her throat as some sick feeling rose up from her stomach against it, and she looked away as she was left slightly gaping.
It felt... wrong...
All too soon, the moment had crawled up over them again, and it was quiet as Celestia peered back to see her sister staring down at her splayed hooves with lidded eyes and an open frown.
She'd felt it too. As they'd forgotten, even for just that one moment, they'd begun to remember what it was like before.
But they'd had to remember, and then... how could they forget?
Even as they'd laughed, it was still too quiet.
She coughed to clear the uneasy feeling in her chest, and looked away again as she swallowed over the sound of her sister clearing her own throat. Her hoof kicked up against her other, and her eyes fidgeted from one place to another.
"Have we..." Her sister started, then let herself hang as Celestia forced herself to look back. Their eyes met, but then her sister flicked her eyes skittishly to the ground. Swallowed loudly enough to hear, and hesitantly met her eyes again. "Have we enough food? Will we be... okay?"
It was a heavy question, and Celestia felt her jaw tighten with the worry in her sister's voice. "Of... of course," she answered quickly, and her sister looked down again. Maybe too quickly.
Celestia stepped towards her, and offered her a hoof and a smile she didn't really feel. Even if she didn't say it... couldn't, for the tightness in her throat... Luna knew that she...
Didn't she?
Luna stared at her extended hoof with a frown for a long moment, and sighed, before her wings flapped open, and she leaned back into the air. Celestia stepped slightly to the side as Luna settled on her hooves, and though her head hung and her eyes didn't meet hers, she still flashed her a small, tired smile back.
"We've got enough for a while, at least," Celestia murmured to her sister, and stretched her hoof out again. This, thankfully, was not unanswered, and her sister stepped forward into her breast without a word. Her face nestled close as their sides touched, and Celestia shifted around in the locks of blue until her mouth brushed against an ear.
"We won't need that much," she whispered, and her sister fidgeted against her. "There are villages out there we can restock at, surely. If we even need to be out that long."
Her hoof holding blue fuzz rubbed around as comfortingly as she could manage, and she shifted her mouth again as she planted a small kiss into the mess of her sister's soft mane. She felt her begin to pull away, and let her; leaning her head down to meet her sister's downcast eyes.
Luna, staring more at the ground than her, still smiled slightly, and even coughed out a quick hum of a laugh. "Surely..." she echoed through her wistful half-grin, and Celestia's own smile turned slightly sadder.
They both knew.
She took a step forward, and patted her sister on the shoulder, and their eyes met again as Luna raised her head. She tilted her head, and tried to keep her face reassuring.
"Why don't you go get some rest, sister mine?" she murmured, and Luna's furrowed brow lightened a bit. She patted again. "I- we, can take care of most of the rest."
Luna liked it when she talked funny, like her. And, truth be told, she didn't mind all that much.
As Celestia's hoof was on her shoulder, Luna's other hoof rose to rest similarly on her own shoulder. Luna's expression tightened, and something in her eyes lightened a bit as her smile broke into a kind of melancholy. "We believe we shall, sister mine."
They stayed like that for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. She wasn't sure what Luna was looking for in her face, as her eyes lidded and her pupils traveled, but Celestia was just taking the moment to breathe in how pretty she was.
So expressive, her sister was. Those long lashes and the way her expansive eyes just sparkled. The little lines around the curve of her nose left by laughing too much for things that weren't really all that funny. She'd never tell her, and she was sure Luna hadn't noticed, but she'd even begun to freckle slightly as of late.
Just a few darker blue, too-small-to-see spots to see on the rise of her nose and barely about her cheeks. Clear enough to shine through her fur, but if they weren't just bashfully hidden.
It was so adorable.
Her face felt heavy without her realizing the change, and she suddenly wanted very much to reach out and touch upon her cheek, if only for a moment. To feel her flush. To remember again how soft her fur was.
To feel that she was still warm.
Luna ended their staring contest first, and Celestia gasped softly at the movement as she suddenly leaned away. Blinked rapidly as colors besides blue leaked in, and her sister was already walking away and into the house. Off to take a nap, hopefully.
She stared after her for a very long moment of silence, before the weight upon her back resettled with the rustle of a cold breeze, and she remembered what she was doing.
She shook her head, and turned back to their father's cart. She still had a lot to do. Still needed to gather up the rest of the food, and collect some water. Still needed to double-check the things she'd already checked for.
Shame on her for getting so distracted. Luna was fine.
Her sister had told her to get some rest. Truly, Luna felt they could both use some, but Celestia was as like to slow down as Luna was to listen to her.
As her sister fussed with the cart outside, Luna stood not at the door to their room as she likely should've, but at the second door at the same wall. The same door in base appearance, but vastly different for this context.
Luna sighed, and not for the first time in very few seconds, she thought to turn away. To walk away, and just take that tantalizing nap. They'd both promised, in a lovely moment of emotion, to leave their parents' room alone until they were safe at home. Preserve what lay within, until they were all together again.
But her sister had gotten her thinking.
There are villages out there, surely.
Her hoof crept out in slow motion, yet she flinched away just before she met wood. Her head whipped around at the sound of approaching hoofsteps, and her flight instincts kicked in as she scampered as quietly as she could to the door to their room.
She pushed the door open a scant moment before her sister rightfully barged in, and she quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
Her sister had set a brisk trot across the room to the kitchen, but with Luna idling at their open door, she still sent a little smile her way that Luna tried to confidently return. Another moment, and Celestia was gone again. Probably would be for a while, off to their mother's garden.
Yet, seeing her go only filled her again with the sour taste of guilt.
Celestia was doing so much, and all useless little Luna had done was sort fabric and cry.
Luna leaned into her hoof holding her door open, and pressed her head against the doorframe. She cast a leery glance into the dark room inside, to the bed in the corner that sweetly called her name in soft flashes of imagined comfort. How nice it would be to take that nap.
But her sister had gotten her thinking.
If there were villages out there, then they could restock.
But they'd need money to buy things.
It wasn't something she'd thought about often, living in the woods with her family. Barter and trade were... nearly foreign concepts to them. They were entirely self-sufficient out here in the woods, and if their parents kept regular contact with other ponies, then it wasn't something they talked about.
Something they actively avoided talking about, actually, no matter how often their children pestered them.
She understood the give-and-take of commercial trade, of course. Truthfully, she'd always secretly thought she'd excel at talking ponies into lowering their prices if not outright giving her things- but it would still be an entirely novel experience.
It was... still kind of enticing, the thought. Just aside how exciting it would be to meet new ponies- and it was something that hadn't really been able to leave her mind- but to then yell at them? Tower over them in personality if not stature? Force them to see things her way?
Ply her silver tongue at trade so ordinary to be as like with the peasantry? To be... average?
It sounded like so much fun. If the gloom didn't creep back in every time she caught eyes with her sad sack of a sister, then she'd probably be bouncing off the walls right about now.
...But things were still heavy. They hadn't spoken much as of late... but she knew Celestia was trying to do everything all by herself. It was very much like her; shouldering the burden, and suffering through a smile.
That's what she'd done before.
She let the door swing closed as she stepped back, and her face felt rather dim as she turned to make her way to their parents' room. She stopped at the threshold, and placed her hoof once more upon its surface.
She didn't have to take all the weight by herself. If her sister were to just ask... then Luna would be there to carry the slack.
Celestia circled restlessly around the cart their father had once used to carry wood: now full in all its splinter-covered space with brown baskets and boxes woven tightly around everything they'd hopefully need.
She stopped around the lowered latch of the back again, and stepped up into it to see once more that it was all in order.
Five baskets for the plants she'd gathered from their mother's garden arrayed in the corner: all as undisturbed as she'd left them. Her horn alit, and she stretched her head out to count under her breath each type as she lifted their tops to see them.
They probably wouldn't need all that much food; it was more a precaution than anything else. They were just going out to look for their parents a little. Not to travel the world.. Wherever they had gone... it wouldn't take very long to find them. She was... she was sure.
The doubt had crawled up her neck again, and she shivered slightly before she shook it off in a jolt. Then shook her head again for good measure as she closed the baskets again.
The world outside was hardly something so foreign to be so scared of. It was just ponies, living their lives. Ponies were nice. Ponies were friendly. Everything would be okay.
Just next to their stores of food were two small-ish clay pots full to the closed brim with river water. It wouldn't do them any good to carry much more, or to get sick, so she'd settled just for the two small pots to boil. It would take much longer for any more water, and again: they were trying to travel relatively light.
So really, they weren't going to be bringing much else. A small stack of bedding they were going to lay directly across the back once it was shut, as well as their smaller chest of scrap fabrics. Some general oddities as tiny jars of preserve and boxes of needles. One or two personals for the each of them, though Luna had insisted only on one very odd thing to bring.
Celestia frowned as she had the first time she'd seen it; using her magic to lift the grey fabric, hooded cloak out from the pile her sister had tossed it into. She wasn't sure where the silly little filly had gotten it or the idea to wear it, but seeing even such a small reminder brought back-
As she lifted the cloak into the air, a long, polished, dark wood box fell with a clatter out of its fluttering cape, to land and lay plainly halfway onto the raised edge of the cart's open back.
Celestia blinked dumbly; staring at the foreign box with the cloak still hanging limply in her magical hold. She swiveled her head to stare at the boring hood of cloth, then back to the mysterious box, and it wasn't very hard to make the choice.
She threw her sister's odd clothing back into the cart, to instead heft the slightly heavy, much odder box of her sister's up for inspection.
It had landed on its side with its handle up, so it was only marginally disappointing to then see in greater detail the small, off-color lock affixed between the latch's clasps. It was immediately obvious that it didn't fit- the box could actually lift open an odd inch before the closed lock snapped the two edges of the latch together- but it worked as it was.
Aside where her sister had scrounged up the unfitting lock in a bid to keep her out- what was this box?
Her expression was intensely curious as she shook the box in her grip, perking her ear to hear the slight rattle of metal inside- or was that the bouncing lock? She turned it over and over, looking about its plain, albeit polished sides for anything distinctive to give her a clue.
It was very nice- she liked the way its surfaces gleamed in the light- but what was inside?
She'd never seen it before. Her sister had never told her about it. It was obviously important enough not just to bring it along, but also to lock it. What could it be?!
She'd been assuming it was her sister's, but there remained the possibility that it belonged to their parents. Though, that would mean that her sister had broken their mutual promise to stay out of their parents' room, and then decided for whatever reason to take the box, and that all just didn't seem her.
Except for maybe breaking promises. She knew for a fact Luna hadn't been keeping her watch, and she was more sure than not that she had gone into their parents' room. Aside from the slight annoyance that she'd kept it from her, it didn't really bug her all that much- that was just the way Luna was.
Yet now, in the moment, Celestia felt more and more frustrated as she roughly shook the box again. No matter how she shook it or glared at it, it only continued to be a very pretty, very closed box.
She wanted to know what was inside.
She huffed, and set it back down into the wagon hard-but-not-too-hard, and worked her tired jaw as she stared down at it.
It was large enough to have... pretty much anything in it, and aside from the fact that it was kind of heavy and sounded like it had something metal inside, there weren't many guesses she could make. Her sister was an strange, enigmatic little filly with a life all her own, and the possibilities were pretty endless.
Something occurred, and she quirked a brow. Hummed, and arched her head a bit.
She... could try to... bust it open?
Her sister would... but then she could... if she could just find out then...
But then, of course, she couldn't.
Celestia shook her head, and sighed. One end of the grey cloak cast aside lifted up into the air, and with a flourish of magic, she lifted the box up into the middle of the shroud and wrapped it around itself. She set the box under the cloak back to where she'd found it, and then took a moment to stare down at it longingly.
It would eat at her a little, to know that her sister was keeping a secret. Something so dear to her that she'd not shared it, and gone so far as to actively hide it; it seemed a rather dire thing of her little sister. Whatever it was, it was important to Luna.
But... she understood why she might keep a secret. Some things...
Luna lay on her back in the middle of a large patch of white flowers, in the larger middle of a grassy field that she'd dreamt would go on forever. Staring up, with her hooves over her stomach, at the darkened sky above, which she decided for now would swirl in pretty shades of maroon on lined black, with just little dotted shades of blurry green to accent it in long swipes.
The extremely dark red circled and danced at her command, but no matter how she pulled its strings, as it slid against the static motions of the black, it just...
She just wasn't feeling very creative, right now. It really sucked, considering she was leaving soon.
Do not fret, our Champion.
Luna sighed, and with a lazy blink, the lines of red exploded out and laid in messy, reaching spikes of shapely design across the sky. It would sparkle without her input, and that was good enough for now as she just let her head rest. The white flowers tickling at her cheeks.
For what reason did she not have to fret? She and her sister had spoken, and it was agreed that they would finally take their leave on the fill of next pot. Luna would awake from this dream, and as she left her tree, she'd not be coming back for... a while.
Didn't they realize what that meant? Her body was there now, amidst its branches- but she'd be leaving the tree behind.
Her frown curled on its edges as a familiar sense of jumpy emotion rose in her cheeks, and it was only the strict reminder to herself that she'd cried far too much recently that stopped her.
She'd lose the ability to come here. To dream with them.
Shouldn't she be fretting about that, at least?
Our platitude was meant to assuage, but it was also meant to avail. You should not fret, and you shouldn't, as there is nothing to fret over.
The soft, endlessly loud voice in her head sparked something in her chest. A hope, that she immediately tried to stomp down out of protective cynicism.
They didn't offer platitudes often; their blunt honesty was one of the things she appreciated the most out of them. If they were really, truly, telling her not to worry about it, then that meant...
...But if that were true, then why..?
It is easiest here, that is true. To allow your slumbering mind to roam free as your body rests above is done as a service, and it is a privilege. We would give a thousand thanks for the merest chance of favor.
But you must grow. We have arrived again to a juncture, and you must again find a new path without us.
You must leave, and there is nothing as important as your leave. But we are never separated; our Champion is our link to the land through which the Will is done. It is foregone: we will remain, and as you grow, you will find us.
You will leave. You will grow. You will dream. We will speak.
Their endlessly pitched voice came to its end in a descending chorus of wobbling, fading echoes, and Luna was left with the quiet in her head, and a thousand thoughts to fill it.
Luna felt warm- but she also felt oddly cold, and she held her hooves across her chest. She shivered from a source uncertain, and rolled her head uncertainly across the grass as one word or another caught and played over in her mind.
That was... a lot. And... geez, her head kind of hurt now.
But even with the subtle pounding in her head, and the cold she hadn't imagined biting at her coat, she found herself strangely smiling. Staring up at the sky she'd painted: she began to wonder if it couldn't use something else. An inexplicable feeling of want for something she didn't know.
Her body tensed, and even as she shivered slightly for the cold in her chest, her hoof fell to the side. Gripped aimlessly and tore in its crook the flowers she'd dreamt without a thought.
The sky needed something. It looked... empty.
It lacked.
In a motion: she swiped her hoof up, and in her grasp were bunches of tiny white petals. Ripped from the ground and cast into the air as her hoof reached its apex. Caught on a breeze that she'd never blustered, and floating ever higher.
And then... she closed her eyes.
In a normal field, she'd expect to feel little tickling leaves landing all over her face anytime soon. Petals could only dance about in the air for so long, before they'd eventually have to fall.
Their windowless room was dark, even as the sun continued to shine outside. The pot had filled to its barest edge, and as the drips ceased, it had come time for their last slumber in their home. Everything was ready, the cart was full: all that remained was them.
But were they ready?
"Do you think we'll be gone long?" Her sister's quiet voice reverberated out through her chest, and as Celestia stroked her mane, her other hoof trembled on her side. She hoped Luna hadn't felt it too much.
She shifted her head along the pillow it rest on, and leaned towards Luna's flattened ear. "Of course not. We're just going out to find mother and father," she whispered, and took the moment to close her eyes. Let herself enjoy the downy feeling of resting alongside her sister.
It was a question they'd separately asked each other at least once before, and as it had been both times, Celestia felt quietly unsure of the answer.
When Luna had asked her, she'd more or less said what she'd just repeated. But when she'd had her own doubts, and repeated the question to her sister in a moment of weakness...
Luna shifted, and a hoof squirmed its way under her arm. Her sister's chest met her stomach as she pressed herself closer, and spoke again in the same quiet tone. "I know you don't think it'll take long to find them, but I'm... I'm not sure if..."
Luna trailed off, and shifted her face back into Celestia's chest. She sighed, and squeezed her sister tighter as she stroked along her mane again. It was easy to tell when she wasn't feeling right, and she started using the modern vernacular again.
Luna wasn't afraid to cut right to the point. It was obvious from the start that her hopes for the search were low, but still, she'd just... come right out and address her concerns. It was brave. Braver than Celestia.
All she could do was reassure. Even if her words were empty, all she could do was talk back.
"It's okay, Lulu," she murmured reassuringly, as she leaned in closer. Tried to curl herself around as much of her sister as she could reach, and she felt her wiggle in closer in response. "It doesn't matter how long it'll take to find them. We'll just keep going, okay? Together."
Her back leg crept in and folded into the open space of her sister's, and her hoof touched and looped carefully around her sister's wing. She felt the motion of Luna nodding under her chin, and she nodded right along to match her as she hummed something soothing.
It was time for a change of topic.
She tried to smile large enough that her sister would feel the expression, or maybe hear it through her voice. "Talk to me, Luna. I know you've always wanted to go outside, but you haven't talked about it since..."
Celestia trailed off for a moment as her breath caught, and her eyes drifted open to see flashes of a mare with a sad smile.
'Your father's been gone too long, and I'm worried. I'm... going out to find him.'
'Don't worry, girls, I won't be gone long. Just wait here until we're back. And...'
'...take care of each other.'
She quietly gasped in the end of the breath, and blinked as her sister's warmth rushed in again. The next breath came in a rush, and her forced smile was too wide with something she didn't feel as she finished all in a raspy gasp. "...since we've been alone. You must... be pretty excited, in a way."
Celestia was still breathing too fast, and she didn't imagine for a second that Luna hadn't noticed her lapse. Her sister had tensed noticeably, and her head was shifting up, up- and Celestia buried her face into the side of her sister's mane. To hide the expression. The jitter in her jaw.
She needed to get a grip. For Luna. She had to be strong for Luna. Always. Never again.
She swallowed as her throat became too dry to breathe, and Luna was silent for a long moment more. Silent, until she shifted again, and the hoof under her arm came up around the back of her neck.
Their cheeks brushed, and then their positions were suddenly reversed. Luna's leg was between hers, and her head was up at her ear as her hoof rubbed along her neck. Celestia's face was in her neck, and she wasn't sure Luna had ever seemed so big.
What was happening?
"You miss them, don't you?" came the soft murmur into her ear, and Celestia tried not to shake at the breath along her ear. Tried not to let the warm, strained feeling in her eyes overflow even as it begged to be let go. Bit her lip, and told herself to calm down. She couldn't fall apart on her sister. She had to be strong.
But then Luna's voice came again, and her voice was so steady.Quiet, and smooth, yet there was an edge of worn vulnerability below it that made it all the harder to hear. "You've been so wonderful this entire time, and I've done nothing but cry. While you did everything. Had all the bright ideas. Just... let me fall apart."
Luna's next breath was sharp, and then her voice came lower, and faster, like she was trying to get it all out in a breath. Celestia wanted to stop her.
"When father first left and didn't come back, I didn't think anything of it. You were the same as always, and I assumed he'd just show back up eventually, and life would go on. I even welcomed the time away from him. I imagined it'd be such a drag when he finally came back."
Her voice caught- she heard the whimper- but then Luna just continued: something almost incredulous in the way she kept her wet tone light. "And then mother said she was going to look for him. All in a day we were left alone, and you just kept on smiling. When she didn't come back, you just started doing her chores. You didn't complain. You didn't cry.
"But you did cry, didn't you?"
And now, she was.
Luna's voice kept even, as Celestia began to silently shiver and weep. She couldn't help herself; no matter how she tried, the tears simply came. And then, she could hear- Luna began to smile. "I know you've been thinking of everything that could go wrong- and of course you know we could get hurt. When you suggested we bring cloth, you didn't say and I didn't think of it, but..."
Stop. Luna, stop, she wanted to say. She needed... She was supposed to be...
Luna laughed, then, and Celestia couldn't stop her voice from rising in a desperate wail as she clutched at Luna's sides in a useless bid to make her stop talking. "Neither of us have any idea what we're doing at all. We don't know what's out there, and we don't even know where to start looking. Mother and father could be anywhere, and we may never find them."
This was all wrong. Celestia was supposed to be the one talking. Celestia was supposed to be the one comforting.
"But that doesn't matter."
But she was weak, and her sister was strong.
So strong, with her hooves around her. So strong- like steel in her voice.
"Because we're going to find them, sister mine. We're going to come home, and we're going to have so much fun doing it."
And Luna said it all with a smile on her face and joy in her voice, as Celestia muffled the sobbing cries she'd suppressed for too many pots to count. Her sister holding her to her chest like she'd never done before, and squeezing her softly in rhythm as she wailed and shook and choked through tears.
And long after, when Celestia passed out, cheeks dry and eyes red, her last thoughts were of her sister: still continuing to whisper in a low, excited, increasingly raspy tone about everything they were going to do when they left the forest. All the fun they were going to have on the first adventure of their lives.
And as she dreamed of the times yet to come, she had a smile on her face.
When she'd always imagined finally leaving- usually in a flurry of emotion and drama that starkly lacked from the moment- it had been the grandest thing. A trumpeting call to action and adventure as she soared out on majestic wings of glory and grandeur. Leaving her forsaken and forgotten parents behind, and maybe deigning to drag her sister behind her.
But here they were, standing plainly around in the shaded light of the never-ending sun, about to go look for those forsaken forbearers. And there she was: standing at the head of their cart and inspecting the simple wooden yoke one of them would have to constantly pull by their waist.
...Celestia would be pulling the cart first, wouldn't she?
Luna's expression turned leery, as she sucked thoughtfully on her cheek. Thoughts of heavy burden drew her itching hooves to walk her around to the back of the cart, where she was hoping to look busy.
If she pretended to count up their inventory for a while, maybe her sister would helpfully decide to go ahead and do her a kindness.
Luna shuffled up the little lowered ramp that was the back of the cart- except, she stumbled.
Her hoof only barely caught her as she nearly took a faceplant into their baskets of food, and she groaned in frustration as she looked back at what had tripped her.
A long, taut stretch of grey cloth: caught on the corner of the lowered ramp.
Wearing a cloak was something to get used to, she supposed.
She gave a small humph as she flipped the edge of her caught cloak up, and as it fluttered, she had a great view to the tightly wound belt of woven cloth that laid just around the lowest part of her barrel. And, more importantly, to the gleaming chunks of silver held fast by the attached loops on its respective sides.
Her new fashion choice settled over her back, and she let her hoof rest over where one of her weapons sat at her hip. It was a nice feeling to have them so close- it made her feel dangerous- though there was a slight problem. The constantly cold feeling of the metal bouncing along her leg was far scarier than in her dreams, and it made it sort of hard to concentrate.
The very low fear from the barest scrape of cold metal may just make her hesitate, and that was unacceptable.
But, then again, she had dreamed of it, and so she wasn't expecting it to be all that hard to get used to. It was something that she was glad she had the chance to get used to: enabled solely by the treasures she'd unearthed from her parents' room.
As she'd searched in every nook and cranny that she'd been too polite to poke about in anytime before, first had she found the hooded, grey cloak buried in a sort of closet-like cubby. It was obvious on inspection that it belonged to her father, and, at first, it had been much too big for her.
It had required some adjustment. The bottom had needed a dire shortening, and it was held around her neck by awfully stitched-together ends tied for good measure by several lengths of twine, but it fit. Didn't look good- she wasn't the best at sewing- but it fit.
Luna pulled gently at the junction she'd forcibly created around her neck for the fourth time since she'd put it on, and gagged slightly.
It was a bit tight.
But aside the clothing: she'd not even be wearing it if not for the other thing she'd found in there. She thought cloaks were cool and all, and her mysterious savior straight from her wildest dreams had worn one, but she mainly needed it to cover the fact that she'd be wearing her weapons as well.
She didn't know why her father had a belt that was clearly made to hold blades. Exactly two, at that, and in such a well-kept strap of woven fabric. The nicest belt she'd ever seen, it was, and comfortable to boot. Didn't chafe at all, unlike her own work.
He'd told her that he'd never held the ones passed down from her grandmare, and she'd never seen him with any other blades, so its existence really just brought many, many questions forward. He knew weapons, sure, but had he really owned some in the past? Nevermind that- he'd owned them and then lost them?
The plain, empty scabbards as well. Two medium-length hollows of unadorned black metal that tapered to a point, and shone dully in the light. They weren't perfectly fit to her weapons, but as she was lacking them, they covered a sore need. A little loose-fitting as well, but they were obviously made for the general shape of her weapons. Another oddity to add to the pile.
She'd found the cloak amidst other bits of clothing that her parents hadn't worn as long as she'd been alive, but the belt and the scabbards were oddly under their bed. Wrapped in silken black fabric much the same as had been alongside her weapons in the box. A somewhat shameful concept, but for such wonderful things?
Nothing made sense, and Luna was literally garbed in mystery.
Even through the intense intrigue, she appreciated the vested meaning in her random find. It wasn't like it at all- but it was almost sort of like they were was yet more gifts from her father. Even now, in his absence, he was still helping her.
...Ick. That sounded like something Celestia would say.
Speaking of her sister, she was peering up over the side of the cart at her, and Luna was intensely grateful that she'd not lifted the side of her cloak to stare brazenly at her sword as she'd been distracted. She'd thought abut it; she did really like looking at them, still.
She... just didn't want to tell Celestia about that part of herself, yet. Maybe in a blaze of danger would that discovery lie, when it would be easiest to swallow. Easiest to believe, as Luna twirled about some unforeseen enemy.
That's when it would be coolest, at least.
...That wasn't the only reason she'd not told her.
Her sister's bright, magenta eyes peered up at her curiously, and her pink mane framed her face as a perfect question mark. "Is everything okay? You've been staring at the carrots for a while."
Luna blinked, and maybe she blushed a little as she turned and hid her face behind a hoof. "I'm- We're just fine, sister, yes. We were simply..." She coughed, and swept the hoof in front of her face across the view of the baskets. "...checking for ourselves that our supplies be adequate!"
She sniffed, and wore an imperious mask as she turned to tower over her sister- while making sure in every motion not to let her cloak ride up. "Thy efforts are as noticed as they are cute, but we shall be the final call upon our leave."
She raised her hoof- but not too high. "Our eye for detail surpasses any other!" she announced grandly, keeping her eyes to the bright heavens above for the lasting echo of her declaration.
And it echoed, for a moment, before she sighed deeply. Her head fell and hung, chafing her neck against the constraining line of her cloak's tie, as she blinked sourly down at the baskets she'd barely looked at. "...Or not," she groaned.
She turned to her sister, and she was smiling good-naturedly up at her; a sort of knowing plain in her eyes. Luna couldn't help but smile back, even as she shook her head and sighed again. "I just got distracted. Sorry, sister."
Luna turned and hopped out of the cart. Stepped around, and came to slouch in front of her sister, who'd turned to face her as she approached. "I guess... I'm just feeling the moment," she murmured lowly, but she tried to stand to face her sister anyway.
She tilted her head, and Celestia tilted hers right along. "It's... pretty big, isn't it?" Luna tried not to let the frayed edge of her nerve sound through her voice as she gave a lopsided little smile. She cast her eye up, to the overbearing canopy above. "That we're finally leaving... after... all our lives. Finally escaping these woods..."
The dapple of the leaves, swaying in the breeze... She'd gone above- seen above them, but Celestia hadn't.
What might she have been feeling, wearing that smile on her face?
Her sister had been all bashful smiles as they'd waved goodbye to the only home they'd ever known, and as cute as she looked prancing about in that obviously-too-big-for-her cloak, Celestia couldn't shake a sense of melancholy deep in her chest.
But that was all. Just a sort of sad acceptance in turning from that familiar front door, to face the world beyond.
What had happened to the constant, niggling sense of panic clogging up her throat every time she so much as thought of leaving? The existential dread at the thought of change? Why was it so easy to walk ahead, without looking back?
Perhaps the labor was helping to keep her mind off it.
The path leading in circuitous bends and turns around odd trees and deep trenches of overgrown fiber was surprisingly smooth- thankfully, as she had a very heavy weight dragging her back half. The yoke around her waist chafed... less than she'd thought it would, and it was altogether much easier than expected to pull the weight of all their cargo with every step.
But it was still a burden. Her legs were tired.
As they passed yet another patch of bramble that the decently marked path lead just around, she glanced to the side, to her sister trotting alongside her. She cut an interesting figure in that too-baggy-for-her cloak, and her brushed-for-once mane bounced with some kind of excitement with every step, but the look on her face was...
She looked kind of jittery.
Celestia felt the nerves as well, but she at least had something to take her mind off it. The endless creaking of old wooden wheels turning and mulching through dirt filled the air- but then did Celestia hum loudly, drawing her sister's eye in an attentive turn.
Celestia smiled, though kept her eyes on the path. "So..." she drawled out, flicking her eyes to her sister for just a moment. "-Luna, when would you like your turn?"
The urge to laugh and give herself away was almost overpowering for a moment as the blue of her sister's face turned just a bit whitish, and her mouth gaped in a stutter of syllables. Celestia just kept walking, as Luna nearly tripped over her hooves and words, though eventually she found her tongue.
"Um- Sister- I don't-" She coughed, and Celestia could hear the flush through her voice as it wavered. "Sister, we... wouldn't want to... that is, to say... it wouldn't be right to deprive thee of the... the vital exercise!"
She seemed excited at that, to have finally found a reason to say 'no'. "Yes, it is absolutely imperative that thou be the one to draw the cart for now." Celestia turned her eye from the road as it evened out for a moment, to see Luna nodding to herself confidently. "The road ahead will be rife with the wear of activity, thus the chance for thy physicals to increase is a treasure all its own."
Celestia couldn't help the giggle that bubbled from her chest, though Luna turned to look at her oddly. "Is that right? My generous little sister doing me a favor?" she ventured, as her smile grew a bit more daring.
Luna grimaced, and turned her head up to the sky. The urge to tell her not to walk like that flashed over her for a moment, but anything she might've had to say was preempted by an immediate comeuppance.
Celestia hadn't seen the small hole, and Luna obviously hadn't either as her hoof landed in it, followed by the rest of her face smashing into the ground. She and the cart rolled to a stop as they both took in a crumpled, cloaked Luna groaning in pain on the forest floor. She wasn't sure whether to murmur in concern or laugh in mockery.
She loved her sister, though, and so for the moment she lit her horn, and blindly undid the latch that bound her to the cart. The lack of weight was freeing in a way she hadn't realized had been stifling, but her attention was on walking around to her sister's front, and offering her a hoof.
Luna's crossed blue eyes centered on her in a weary blink, and with another groan, the hoof that hadn't fallen into a karmic pit rose up to grasp at the proffered help. "Thanks," she grumbled, as she found her bearings and turned to dust off her cloak.
Celestia smiled good-naturedly at her frowning face, and decided that she loved her sister enough to do both. "Oh, it's the least I could do after you let me pull the cart."
Luna's head whipped around to face her in an affronted gape, and Celestia continued to smile as she sputtered for an angry response. She'd seemingly nearly had one prepared, too, before she deflated entirely; shoulders sagging as she sighed tiredly.
She looked up at her through her slightly ruffled mane. "Would you like us to take a turn?" she muttered woodenly, clearly unenthused at her own offer.
But it was sweet of her to offer.
Celestia stepped forward, and Luna's head rose just as she planted her muzzle into the mop of blue. She hummed tunelessly for a moment as she curled a hoof around her neck, and leaned away to stare directly into her sister's slightly confused eyes.
"I was just teasing, Lulu," she murmured, before leaning in to kiss into her mane. She let her sister go, then, and there was an embarrassed smile on her face as Celestia turned to go latch herself back in again.
She didn't mind pulling the cart, really, and Luna had a certain kind of point through her blustering. It was good for Celestia to get this exercise, and truthfully, she was already feeling kind of exhausted. Whether either of them liked it or not, Luna would have to pull the cart sometime soon.
But for now, the yoke was around her waist again, and she was turning to face her flushing, smiling sister. "Come on, let's keep going. I think we're almost out of the woods," she said, and Luna perked to nervous attention before she gave a distracted cough.
"Yes, I- Um, yes, let's," her sister stammered out, and Celestia laughed at her. Luna liked to talk big and act big and try to be big, but she was surprisingly easy to fluster. A little kiss or some mushy love and she would just fall to pieces.
Celestia turned, and heaved a grunt as the soon-to-be-familiar feeling of pulling weighed on her again. The forest stretched forward to seeming infinity, yet she heard Luna trot quickly up to her side anyway.
They were farther than they'd ever been before, now.
The treeline was an even shade of greenish brown, but just slightly- a flash of light.
"Sister, I think we're almost there!" she cried suddenly, breaking the slightly stifling peace that had built up for however long they'd been walking. Not to say that she didn't enjoy the time walking with her sister, but leaving wasn't quite as easy as she'd imagined it.
As she jumped to sleepy attention with her excited yell, her sister looked up from her panting stare at the ground. She'd been growing more and more obviously tired for a while now, and as Luna turned to beam at her, her eyes were a shiny sort of glassy.
It was good for more than one reason that they were almost out of the woods- and closer to a much-needed break.
Yet, even as her sister's tongue lolled from her mouth in exhaustion, she still managed to raise her head and smile tiredly back as they rolled to a halt. "Yay..." she breathed, and Luna clasped a hoof to her withers.
Her sister may have come close to falling over as Luna leaned into her, but they were both smiling as she pressed their cheeks together. "Breathe it in, sister mine: this is a grand moment," she announced, holding her sweaty sister close with one hoof.
She gestured out with the other, to the faint yet literal light at the end of the tunnel. "All of our lives have we lived in these suffocating quarters. Never given quarter for our woes, endless they were. Yet now! Now we may breathe fresh air! Untainted by hollow languor, and full of life!"
She glanced down to her sister's hanging head, and the shaky smile she wore. "Fear thy burden lessen, sister! Soon shall we take our first rest under the open skies!"
"Woohoo..." came the unsteady call from her sister, though it was less of a call and more of a breathy whisper. Still, Luna took it to heart, and called out in excitement for the both of them. A hearty cry of joy to the empty air, as she used her sister as leverage to stand fully up.
But only for a moment, as the first thing that Luna realized was that she'd accidently flashed her weapons to her sister. She dropped down as her face heated, and though she quickly checked her sister's face for shock, it seemed Celestia was too tired to see much of anything.
Just kind of standing there, staring blankly forward with lidded eyes and an empty smile on her face.
She'd not lied: this was a good chance for her sister to exercise. Unlike herself, with all her weapons training: Celestia'd spent most of her life sitting around engaging in... minutia. Giving as much thought to her physical condition as Luna had to cooking or knitting.
This was great for her. Even if Luna had taken the weight of their cart to bear, Celestia would've gotten just as tired sometime later, probably in a more dangerous place.
This was the time, and she was proud of her for sticking it out.
With her hooves on the ground and her sister trying not to pass out, Luna dashed forward; her cloak thankfully not fluttering about behind her. She leaped right over an overgrown root askew from a precariously leaning tree that her sister would have to go around, and turned back to grin brightly as her hooves hit the ground.
Her sister had begun to move the moment she had, but her progress wasn't quite as immediate. Luna was forced to wait; tapping her hoof impatiently and glancing between their goal and she who had long since lost a sense of urgency. The maddening sound of swaying wheels and struts filling the air, as Luna took the extremely extended moment to tilt her head skyward and groan.
She could just run ahead and take a peek, but it meant something for them to see it together! The sentiment was... enormous!
Eventually, her sister did make her way over, panting and wheezing, but they had a ways to go yet. Luna simply suffered through the short ride as she'd been forced to for a while; trotting gloomily alongside the shaking form of her sister as she strained herself to keep walking.
"Dost thee wish us to just... take it, for even the moment?" Luna had stopped to ask at some point when the light ahead had first begun to thin, but her sister just shook her head. Didn't say anything else beyond a wheeze, but her choice was clear, as much as it made Luna want to fall over.
The anticipation was killing her! They could already just see the faintest edges of things on the horizon beyond a frame of trees, but they were going so slow. How far had they even traveled if this was how fast they were going? Could she turn around and run to the house and back before Celestia made it there? She was thinking she could!
Everything in Celestia's body hurt, and her tongue had long since gone numb as had her face. Her hooves shook with every step, her chest ached from how much she was forcing herself to keep breathing somewhat evenly, and she was entirely surprised her back half hadn't just fallen off already.
She wasn't sure if she'd be able to keep going if it weren't for Luna at her side. Hopping about with so much energy, and cheering her on with rye and temper in her voice. How she might wish for some of that enthusiasm.
But she was excited, and that's why she still smiled.
The trees ended just hoofsteps beyond, and there was a worn, wooden sign by the side of a patchy dirt road leading into infinity. Backwards, or just blank, but new. Exciting.
A bit odd how the trees just... cut off in a line, though. It reminded her a little of how she'd once stepped out of her sister's dream. An unnatural break of nature's path, into something unfitting.
And... the horizon as beyond was familiar; much the same as it had seemed from her unfortunate trips gone flying. Kind of flat. Sort of bland.
Her sister had slowed to a canter beside her, but Celestia looked forward all the same.
The open world beyond. Lush plains on rolling hills covering vast expanses like she'd only seen in pictures. Dotted with colorful flowers below incredible shadows of mountains too-far-to-see. The blue sky above dotted with whimsical mounds of white. Clouds. She'd never seen so many before.
The first step outside should have been more. It should have been a freeing rush of adrenaline as they literally walked from their prison, and symbolically stepped towards the future.
But something pressed down on her as she and her sister took their first step outside. Something pulled at her back, and her stomach flipped like she was being turned upside down. Her wings itched and burned at the joint, and it was only her sister at her side that stopped her from taking off.
This was wrong. This was... some kind of joke. She was asleep. Having a nightmare.
Her mouth had long gaped open by itself, and she couldn't force herself to shut her eyes. Couldn't stand to look away, or to breathe.
How she wanted to. How she wanted to forget and wish she'd seen something different. To go back just a few seconds, and pretend like the first moments of the life she'd imagined were still pure.
If her sister hadn't been latched into a cart keeping her legs firm, she was sure she would've fallen to her knees. That was what Luna felt from hearing the way her sister choked. The tense sound of wood shivering. Or maybe she was projecting.
It was between a blink and the next, and the world shifted colors. The scenery painted onto the walls of reality bled away, and a gaping wound was left exposed. Like a veil sundered. Like a curtain lifted for a magician's cruel trick.
It was familiar. It was sick.
This wasn't what she'd dreamed. She didn't want this. She wanted to go home.
Her legs turned on pure instinct to flee, but then she stopped, and screamed.
When Luna screamed, Celestia still wasn't sure if she was even awake. It was only a dull sense of caring that turned her head, as everything else had overloaded and deadened.
Everything felt slow as she turned to look at her sister, and everything looked greyed as she saw her sitting, propped up by her hooves. Staring back at where they'd came with an open mouth too frozen to close. Her face a rictus painting of dark lines that read fear.
Barely moving. Eyes still. Like she'd just shut down.
And when Celestia turned and saw, as Luna had, she screamed too.
A fantasy would have seen them walk into the wonderful world beyond, and it would have been a paradise. To see them marvel at their new lives free from what they'd seen as a prison, as they explored a life they'd never known. They would travel, they would find wonder, and they would think back on the days left behind as days wasted.
It would have been a wonderfully naïve thing.
But the possibility of a fantasy in their world had long since been shattered. A stillborn ideal. For as they looked back on the days behind them, to the path they'd traveled with so little understanding of what lay ahead, they found nothing.
It was a fantasy they had walked from; it was a fantasy from which they escaped.
For behind them laid a worn dirt path that abruptly stopped in a blurred rub of a line, laid parallel to a wooden stake in the blue grass. Upon which stake was affixed, by way of a single loose, rusted nail: a tattered wooden board cut on both sides by jagged, uneven blows; its stained surface scrawled over in messy red lettering that had run before it had dried.
The sign read 'dead end.'
The forest was gone. There was nothing behind them, and the path ended.
