Weep Not For Creusa
Of course, to be trapped in a Soul Gem is to be trapped forever. They had not considered it, walking on legs, but she had. Of course, she had said nothing of it to them. It was only her nature. She was, of course, made for this. She was the perfect pony to watch over them all, devoid of form, an Archon of pure virtue.
So of course, when they came to the Soul Gem in High Canterlot, they would ask her for help. Fluttershy, they would say worry in their eyes which were so painfully material, whatever shall I do?
And of course, the last of the Elements would give them something. Some bauble to make their hearts glad, perhaps. A few words they would turn into action in the alchemy of thought. Some shadow of prophecy, for she could see such things at times.
Celestia came to visit Fluttershy as well, though she did not enjoy these visits as much. Like the little ponies who wanted her to comfort them, the Princess looked at the Archon. Unlike them, however, her eyes did not seem to glaze over with awe. She looked deep into the soul gem, far into the well of pure thought and Song in which Fluttershy survived all of her closest friends, and it was like touching. But of course, Fluttershy said nothing about it. It would be unkind.
Fluttershy was thinking, in the nights. In High Canterlot, in the roiling creation Song that kept her spirit tethered to Earth, she remembered her friends.
Twilight had always said that she and the others should think on what their elements meant. Contemplating these different facets, her learned friend had insisted, would only strengthen their understanding both of themselves and the gifts they had to offer the ponies of Equestria. Fluttershy had taken these words to heart after Twilight had died.
Applejack had gone first, before the gates of Canterlot those millenia ago. Fluttershy tried to remember what threat had pushed them before the walls and she found she could not. Griffons, perhaps? Dragons? Zebra rebels? Twilight had been last, using her gifts to keep a diseased Fluttershy long enough to perfect her ultimate spell: The Archon Complex. She had laid her friend’s withered form on the table and then the screaming had started, and Fluttershy had watched herself dissolve. And then she continued, and looked out from the gem which was suspended in the Temple of Harmony. It had been built to the Element Holder’s memories. The Elements were gone now, of course. The World had moved on.
But Fluttershy had been thinking.
She sometimes saw the same pilgrims and faithful many, many times. One stallion came to her every few weeks, and his life she had found to be miserable. This mare had lost two foals, and did not want to face losing the one she carried. This young stallion had been rejected, this mare’s young husband had died in an accident. They would come back over and over, and nothing ever changed.
A millenium ago, she had become bored. It was a gradual thing, not something she meant to happen. And yet they had stopped being compelling in of themselves. The individuals faded into one another. She had types now, instead of faces. There were about fifteen of them, the archetypal visitors to the Archon in the Temple of Harmony, and all sought some comfort from the Spirit of Mercy.
Fluttershy, of course, had been thinking about Mercy. About Kindness.
Celestia sat across from her, staring.
“How do you fare, my friend?”
“Well,” Fluttershy answered curtly, and the gem glowed golden.
Celestia raised an eyebrow, surprised by the shortness of the answer.
“What thoughts have wandered across your mind’s eye, my little pony? You have grown less talkative in the last few years.”
“I am not a pony, your highness.”
“Of course you are,” Celestia said, her voice a little more firm. “How could you not be? You are still that pony that took care of the creatures of Ponyville. They tell stories about that.”
“I know.”
Celestia frowned, and stood. She unfolded her wings and shook them. “Fluttershy... something ails you. I would be your friend, if you would only have me. Immortality is a long road when taken alone.”
“I am not a pony.”
Celestia sighed, and turned to go. “Fluttershy, I have learned many lessons over the years. One of them is that you cannot change a hard heart in a night. I will see you again.”
“Yes.” It was a statement of the absolute. Fluttershy saw the next visit clearly with the limited foresight she possessed, and this vision intrigued her. It was not pleasant.
When the Princess was gone, Fluttershy returned to her reverie. In truth, she had never left. Only the surface of “Fluttershy” had been dealing with monarch, while the rest focused on The Problem.
Fluttershy, though she had lost much of her memory, remembered that her friends had died. It had made her sad. When she died, she was still sad.
Three thousand years of Kindness, and three thousand years of Mercy, and she had been very kind to those who were sad. They remained sad until they died.
Of course, what did this mean? Logically, as Twilight might have said, it meant that something was not right. Of course, for she would not accept that it was impossible. How then could she stop it?
Fluttershy’s “eyes” stared out from her prison-home at the tiny altar that always burned incense in the middle of the golden floor.
She wondered if it was thinking. If perhaps, given less time to think, ponies would be less sad. In fact, if given no time at all to think, it would stand to reason that they would never be sad.
She considered what a soul gem like her own could do with this information.
She was considering how widespread the effects of her soothing magic were when Luna naext came to visit her.
“Fluttershy,” the Princess of the Night said in her usual greeting. Fluttershy did not respond, as was her own ritual.
Luna sat where sister had sat, beside the altar that burned eternally, and seemed lost in thought. When at last she spoke, her cool voice echoed off the richly, dearly wrought walls.
“My sister tells me that you have seemed unwell, fairest Fluttershy. What thoughts weigh heavily on you?”
She did not answer the question. “What do you do, Luna, when you encounter nightmares in the dream bubbles of ponies?”
“Why... I fight them, of course. With blade, if it be something monstrous. With soft words, if that will do. Perhaps with stern exhortation.”
“Ah. Have you ever thought about eliminating the cause?”
Luna seemed taken aback by this, and pondered her answer. “Why... no. Fear and heartache are a part of things, Fluttershy of Ponyville. Of course there are nightmares. There must be. The hearts of ponies allow no other world.”
“I wonder, is it kind?”
Another beat. “Kind?”
“To let them continue to suffer. To do the same thing over and over and cry. Again and again, to cry.”
Luna’s shoulders tensed, and she cocked her head to one side. “Fluttershy, what do you mean?”
“Is it really kind to let them continue?”
“And what would you do! You are not making sense. Do not give me back your strange words, but rather explain them!”
“What if I were to do them a Kindness?”
Luna stood, her wings flared out. She seemed lost. Fluttershy chuckled, and the sound of it was deep, reverberating in the halls. Luna shivered, and seemed to remember. Recognition painted her visage, and she ground her teeth together.
“I think I begin to understand.”
“I do hope so. Will you do it, then? What you plan?”
Of course, in her thinking, she had seen visions and flashes.
“Your words are madness and your thoughts are vile. Fluttershy of Ponyville, be silent!”
She did leap, as Fluttershy thought she might, but the Archon had prepared for weeks. It only took a single moment of intense magical discharge to crack the mighty soul gem and do High Canterlot a single deathly Kindness.
The Altar fire went out.