But The Future Refused To Change
Starswirl the Bearded had created many amazing works of spellcraft in his time. Perhaps the greatest - aside from his unfinished works - was unlocking the initial aspects of time travel. It was rudimentary and awkward as most first attempts were: a pony could only go back once and remain there for one minute, perhaps two. But there was no denying it was revolutionary and would certainly eventually lead to greater and greater advancements in the field.
Princess Celestia didn't care about that part.
She cared that she had exactly one shot.
One chance. A minute, perhaps two. (Better to assume one and have time to spare.) That was it.
One minute to save Luna.
She had hesitated before. Quite a few times, if she was going to be honest. The task was a daunting one and the incredibly limited opportunity made it all the harder. The fight between the sisters had been the climax, but the true problem had run deep for years. Neglect, distraction, dismissal, ego… it was a bloody rift between them that had built for so, so long and had festered in the darkness.
What could possibly be done or said in one minute to solve that?
But she had to try. Losing Luna was… Celestia hadn't realized how much it hurt. She hadn't realized how much it could hurt until it happened, and each day seemed to dig further down. There were no words that could do the feeling justice: they were not merely sisters, but reflections of one another. Two sides of the same coin, needing one another to survive. Even more than that, needing another constant to anchor each other. Luna would never return from the moon and would surely go mad in her isolation; Celestia would go mad slower but just as surely, surrounded only by mortals with fleeting, blink-short lives.
The word 'never' echoed, even in Celestia's own mind.
But what could one minute solve?
Three years had passed asking herself that question. Three aching years where every dawn and dusk, the cold touch of the moon served as a reminder of what Celestia had lost.
There was still no good answer. One minute wasn't enough to patch the rift between them. But perhaps it would be possible to create more time. It was a risky plan, but the only one Celestia could think of with a chance of success: if she traveled back and prevented the Elements from banishing Nightmare Moon, then her past self would have more time to talk things out. To make things right.
It was a long shot, but it was the only thing Celestia could think of. In retrospect, she would later realize that wasn't how Starswirl's spell worked - but the prospect of an immortal life alone frightened her too much.
To not try was to surrender to unthinkable eternity.
Positioning and timing would be key. Celestia knew she would only have a few seconds in which to act and anything more than absolutely essential actions was wasteful.
Preventing the cast was impossible. Doing so would mean prying the Elements of Harmony away from their wielder in the heat of battle - and Celestia knew just how thoroughly the Elements had rejected her afterwards. Her sin of using them against Luna had rendered them inert and how their past versions would react to her was simply too big a question to rely on.
That left deflection. Interposing herself into the path of the beam and redirecting it away from Nightmare Moon. It would be a dramatic scene: Princess Celestia sprawled out on the floor of the battered castle, Elements hovering before her as they activated; Nightmare Moon in full fury, diving for the kill; the world lit up by rainbows and light; and suddenly a second Celestia appearing to change the blast's direction to change fate… maybe that would be enough to reach Luna.
It was the only thing she could think of. It was that or madness.
So the spell was cast. The world became a flash of light as Celestia took her one shot and burrowed a hole through time itself.
The timer was already ticking down as the world coalesced around Celestia. A small part of her mind ached with joy and loss at seeing the Castle of the Two Sisters around her once more: their home for so many years, laid to waste in their terrible battle. The scars on the stones were still fresh, fires raging and walls in the midst of collapsing. Distant screams of panic and fear as the staff fled and the guards tried to do their duty. And the rest of the scene was as predicted: Celestia's past self on the floor with the Elements (though with fewer tears in her eyes than her memory claimed she had); Nightmare Moon descending in a death-dive, serrated teeth set in grim victory as a blast of her own energy fired at her sister's heart; and most importantly a beam of rainbow light forming between them.
There was only a quarter of a second for Celestia to process the scene - because that was all she had before the beam struck. She had picked her time and place perfectly.
Pouring every ounce of power she could into it, Celestia created a shield - an angular thing, designed to deflect the power of the Elements away from their intended path. Stopping them would be impossible, but she could redirect them. Save her sister. Use her minute well. (Pray the Nightmare simply didn't kill the Celestia of three years before.)
There was a very, very brief moment where the eyes of her past self widened with shock, seeing a phantasm appear in the path of the beam.
The beam was impossible to stop.
As it turned out, it was also impossible to deflect.
The raw power of the Elements of Harmony plowed into Princess Celestia, enveloping her in a rainbow of raw energy. The beam continued past her, striking Nightmare Moon as history demanded.
Two thoughts were in Celestia's mind as the rainbow power overwhelmed her: that she hadn't saved Luna; and that unexpectedly being blasted by the Elements didn't actually hurt.
It took a few moments for the warmth of the magic to pass over her and the blinding light to fade from her eyes. (Ten seconds gone, fifty to go.) They were replaced by cold and darkness - just as the Castle of the Two Sisters was replaced by the moon. Endless plains of gray, lifeless dust stretched around them. Only the two sisters were present, alone in the desolation.
Nightmare Moon was frozen - stunned by the turn of events. Her defeat, her transport to the moon, and the abrupt appearance of a second version of her sister left the Mistress of the Night reeling.
Celestia was quicker with her wits, but her first moments on the moon were occupied with something else: depression.
She had failed.
She had failed, and now Luna was trapped on the moon forever.
(Forty seconds left.)
A synapse sparked within Celestia's head. Luna was trapped on the moon, but Celestia was inside with her now. She was up close and personal with the bindings. Ones she had spent the last three years studying from afar.
Her horn lit gold, magical senses desperately spreading around her. Tendrils of magic poked and prodded the borders of her sister's prison, seeking out every little crack and corner. The door was still closing, to stretch the metaphor - binding an alicorn was not a simple task, even for the power of the Elements.
Celestia slammed her magic into the proverbial gears, jamming the process up for a few heartbeats longer.
Across the desolate regolith, Nightmare Moon bellowed in rage as the reality of her defeat finally reached her maddened mind.
(Thirty seconds.)
A key. She needed a key. It was a lock so there had to be a way to open it again. And if she couldn't find one, she'd make one.
The fresh scars across the moon's surface that made up the shadowy mare's head flared with golden magic as Celestia poured all she could into the seal. Impossibly complex sigils danced before her eyes: the structure of an alicorn-sealing spell trying to display as something her mind could grasp. A lesser mind would likely have been driven insane trying to understand the seal: spell after spell interlocking with each other, each composed of smaller mechanisms, fractally locking each lock with another lock. Even centuries of knowledge paled before the raw alien intricacy created by the Elements.
Celestia didn't need to understand it, though. She simply needed to break it.
And there it was: a gap in the armor. A single weakness in the bindings. A lock within a lock within a lock that could be undone. If enough power could be focused to that one point, it would create a crack - like striking the hinge of a door.
(Twenty left.)
Reaching out into the heavens, Celestia grabbed for the stars. If she could move them to the proper place, it would bring enough power to bear on that weak point.
But it wasn't so easy. The stars were Luna's and resisted. They fought against Celestia's grip and stubbornly refused to be moved - even for their mistress' benefit. They would not serve the one who betrayed their mistress. (In battle; in life; in sisterhood.)
Luna herself - the Nightmare - sensed that foreign touch on her stellar subjects. It was enough to snap her out of her blind rage, and she turned her death's stare towards her sister's future self.
So the battle began again. In a normal fight, they were evenly matched (or close enough to it) and the Nightmare had won through a combination of surprise, ruthlessness, and Celestia's own reluctance to strike a deathly blow against her sister. But now Nightmare Moon was still worn down from her pitched battle, and now stood against a version of Celestia who was fresh and had three years of time to steel herself. Still, one of them was concentrating on the fight while the other was attempting to unwind possibly the most complex spell in history.
A beam of cyan energy slashed across the dusty plain, wild and nowhere near its target. Celestia barely needed to move to evade it, nor the follow-up beam that dug a deep crater just to her left.
The Nightmare smashed into the ground, driving all four hooves deep and forcing Celestia to backpedal. A cloud of dust filled the air for a moment before the monster's wings flapped, blowing it aside.
More bolts of magic flew, each lethal and most missing Celestia by the thinnest of margins.
The Sun Princess didn't care. She moved only as little as she had to for survival. Her focus remained in the dark sky, horn aglow as it implored the heavens to move for her.
But it did not matter. The stars would not move for Celestia.
(Ten seconds.)
Begging - pleading - Celestia reached out her magic to the cosmos one last time. She couldn't move the stars, but perhaps they could move themselves. They could deny her forever after this, but just as she had begged the Elements, Celestia begged the stars now to do this one thing for her in a moment of grave need.
Distantly, one twinkled. It sparked in Celestia's mind, recalling how Luna had once stayed up an entire week to ensure every star was named. This one was Eurus, one of the smallest of the stars in the southern part of the sky. She begged, and it sparkled in reply. One of the least among the heavens, but it started to slowly slide - it would carry the burden. Not for Celestia, but for the love of her sister.
(Five seconds.)
Magic dug a trench deep enough for a pony to disappear in across the landscape - a long, wide sweep that sent Celestia skywards with singed fetlocks. Great white wings flapped, scattering the debris before her in a shower that put the Nightmare on the momentary defensive by throwing up a shield.
Eurus' brother was Astaeus. Far greater, far brighter, far more resistant to Celestia's initial pull. He had no love for the Sun, and knew how she had hurt her sister. But he would not leave his sibling's side - for to do so would be to repeat Celestia's mistakes himself - and reluctantly he moved to share the load. His pace was slow and ponderous, assuring that Celestia would have time to think about the consequences of her actions. Loneliness would be her burden.
It was one she accepted.
(Time ran out - the count in Princess Celestia's head reached zero. The spell could end at any second now, hurling her back to her original time with almost no warning. 'About one minute' was a painful uncertainty.)
The Nightmare smashed into Celestia's side, body slamming her and sending the white alicorn flying the length of a city block. A new crater on the moon formed where she impacted.
Celestia didn't care. (She would care very much the next morning.) There were more important things: begging.
The stars looked at her with cold disdain.
She silently offered to the sky anything they wanted. She was no more above bribery than she was above groveling.
One responded - a star both proud and greedy. There was a tribe to the east of Equestria that worshiped him and followed his ways. He would do what Celestia asked if she protected the tribe; brought them riches; gave them glory. Without hesitation, Celestia swore it. She would give them land and gold and guard them from harm. So long as the griffons followed Boreas and held his favor, she would treat them as if they were her own. And so he took up the burden.
(Ten seconds after, and Celestia's world started to get hazy around the edges. She redirected as much magic as she dared to hold the passage through time closed so it couldn't pull her back yet.)
The vacuum was filled with glowing darts - tiny flechettes of magic each no larger than a coin that fell on Celestia like a monsoon. She spared only the slightest shred of magic to protect herself, and the shield she projected rippled under the pounding assault.
Her attention split three ways, Celestia weakly reached out into the sky and pleaded one last time. No price was too high. She would surrender anything for their aid.
Aeolus answered - star of the west and beacon of sailors. He would not serve Celestia, but he would serve for her sister's sake. But there would be a price: the Sun Princess would forswear acting against her sister forever more. She would never again strike her sister in anger and would allow Luna to do what she willed. No resistance.
It was the easiest oath Celestia had ever sworn, and it was sealed in blood as she dropped her shield. She fell to her knees as a dozen wounds were torn into her flesh by the barrage.
The fourth star took up the burden. Time could not be held back any longer. It would have to be enough.
The force of reality pushed and the wounded Celestia couldn't resist. Lightning rippled across her body and the dusty plains of the moon were lit as she glowed with energy. Enraged, Nightmare Moon dove for the Sun Princess, leading with her devilishly sharp horn to interrupt whatever spell this was.
The horn pierced Celestia's shoulder.
Celestia embraced the Nightmare.
"Luna, I love–"
"--you."
Canterlot. The Throne Room. Midnight. The present.
Princess Celestia sagged. Her blood dripped, soaking the nearly new carpet under her. (She would order it burned; it would be rescued by zealots and the traces of alicorn blood would be used to forge to a number of artifacts and talismans. They would trouble Equestria for centuries.) Staggering on exhausted and injured hooves, Celestia hauled herself to the window and looked out at the sky.
The moon hung low, bearing the face of her sister. And four stars were just slightly out of place, inching across the eternal void.
Weak magic reached out to confirm the tiny flaw in the great seal was still there. A weary mind calculated movement and power and timelines. A mouth turned to a small smile - victorious but at great cost.
Celestia collapsed.
A week later, after the care of a dozen dozen doctors brought her once more to mobility, Princess Celestia wrote down the prophecy she had sent in motion so it would not be forgotten.
On the longest day of the thousandth year
The stars will aid in her escape
And she will bring about everlasting night.
Author's Note
The implication from Lauren Faust that Celestia is the one who put the stars in motion and freed Nightmare Moon has intrigued me since I learned of it. This, I suppose, is my attempt to have that make sense.
