A Tale of Two Sisters

A Tale of Two Sisters

Chapter One: Beginning of the End

*****

Celestia covered her face with her hooves, once again swamped with the paperwork that her own government managed to conjure up from some form of paper hell. She didn't remember having to do this sort of tedium back then, but she was younger and prone to foolishness during those times. Back then, she simply handed it off to someone to do it for her. After all, it was only of mortal concern, why would she care about some earth-shattering new law?

As a result of her negligence, some unnecessary and downright offensive laws managed to get passed and reinforced in Equestria, a lot of which involved making almost any form of government usage of power to involve more and more paperwork, approval from other ponies, etcetera etcetera. Even with her grand omnipotence, she could not honestly decipher the absolute clusterfuck her kingdom's government has become, not how it works and certainly not how it has continued to function up to now.

She sighed, and incinerated the tower paperwork again. Celestia felt a pang of guilt once more as she watched the tower crumble to ashes, as the princess had started slipping back into her old habits of shirking her duties, but the alicorn simply could not handle the amount of paper those beneath her seemed to enjoy pushing towards her. But this did not break her nearly as much as watching her sister.

Though the other ponies of Equestria had not noticed, Luna...something had happened to Luna. Celestia knew it was a result of the banishment, as her younger sibling no longer smiled, she often spoke random nothings in some gibberish language Celestia couldn't even understand, and her mind seemed to wander, making conversations with her difficult to conduct. Worst of all, she cowers at the sight of her elder sister, often fleeing back to her quarters and keeping the room locked and pitch black. Deity or not, a thousand years of isolation was bound to have some form of mental effect on any poor soul, much as it clearly has on her dear sister. But Celestia clenched her teeth in hatred for her own being, for she did not think about this, about her sister, or about her people back then.

In the beginning...all she cared about was herself. And her lust for glory and worship would send her kingdom to its death...

*****

This is a tale of two sisters. A sister of the sun, Celestia, and a sister of the moon, Luna. In the beginning, they loved each other dearly, and took roles in ensuring that the sun and the moon rose each day, and on time. But the elder became greedy, and wished to prove how powerful she really was, seeking praise and worship from her followers. However, Luna would not readily give up her position as caretaker of the moon. Luna did not have many whom appreciated her moon, and she felt it was her duty to ensure that the moon was always on time in its nightly rise.

An unbridled hatred filled the elder sister, and the two of became embroiled in a heated argument. On accident, Celestia had set upon Luna a terrible curse, one which would feed upon Luna's discontent with her sister, and fester into a hatred of its own. One day, the curse had grown too powerful for Luna to contain, and it enveloped her with hate as it sought to consume her.

The young princess cried out in terror for her sister. The elder one reached out to help...but saw her followers below. The elder smiled wickedly to herself...she had a duty to perform, right? The safety and happiness of the people of Equestria came first, did it not? So the elder withdrew her hoof, and declared that her sister be banished to the moon for a thousand years as a means of quarantine for the safety of Equestria. And so her sister lived out a thousand years on the moon, helpless and agonized by her sister's abandonment, and that of Equestria's as she heard their faint cheering, their love for their elder princess and their undying loyalty to the new monarch of Equestria.

Even as Luna felt the new found fear and hatred from such a distance from her home, so did she feel and hear the faintest of tears: orphans, beggars, runaways, rebels, and those who followed her mourned for their princess, as her moonlight was their only solace in life. Eventually, their voices faded, blocked out by the majority of Equestria and their growing praise for Celestia as it blocked out the quiet whisperings of grief for the poor alicorn...and Luna, for a thousand years, was alone. But her followers, even through the passage of time, did not forget about her.

Nor did they ever forgive what had been done to her.

******

This is the tale of an average, earth pony stallion on an average day on an average weekend. This colt's name was Four Forge. He was of average height, fairly muscular build, and of a rather irritable disposition. His charcoal, shaggy mane  covered his orange, fiery eyes for the most part, but only went down to his jaw. His milk chocolate brown coat was accented by light tan fur around his hooves, eyes, and muzzle.

This young stallion was currently without a cutie mark and a full time job in present day Equestria. This was peculiar in the case of Forge, due to the fact that he believed long ago, with all of his heart, that working the forge, making swords, armor, and other metallic objects and tools was his true passion. And it was, too! But still blank was his flank, leaving him shunned and mocked by everyone, even those who he had once believed to be his friends.

The night sky air was filled with smoke and the clanging of hoofhammers as they assaulted the heated blades of swords, curved and straight alike. To any other pony, it would seem like Forge was dancing upon the four anvils and their swords like a fool, trying not to get burned by the immense heat of the blades. On the contrary, this was how Forge worked: with four hooves. The task at hand required a tremendous amount of hoof-to-eye coordination, strength, and endurance. Over the years that Forge has worked, this job has toned his body considerably and given him an enormous amount of strength...yet for some reason, it never shows in his physique.

The hoofhammers struck in tandem with the beat of his racing heart.

Eventually, he hopped off the anvils and carefully flipped each heated sword into the trough of water, listening to the angry hisses of the water's protests as it bubbled with heat and steam. He began folding up the workbench, getting the anvils back together, and loading them all onto the cart that carried his traveling business.  It was at this time that Forge remembered that he didn't have a home to come back to.

A pity, really.

The young stallion shrugged. He figured he would find another at some point...hopefully. Forge didn't have much of a choice but to wander either way. It wasn't like he could change his own fate with sheer bravado and boasts like those heroes he read about in storybooks from his childhood. Things like that didn't happen around here, it was best just to accept it and learn to adapt to the changes in life. Nothing would be gained from sitting on his ass and moping all day. While Forge certainly was no hero, he was a stallion of action.

But he sighed, all the same. "Fucking pompous business ponies, don't know a good fuckin' sword when they see one, dumb shits." Forge clenched his teeth, violently cursing sword and armory collectors as well as contractors of the Equestrian army who would be interested in hiring blacksmiths.

"I put my damn fuckin' soul into those pieces, man. Blood, sweat, n' tears. Shit's not right at all...yeah, so I don't have a fucking dumb little tattoo on my ass that says 'Oh, look at me, I'm good at sewing!' or some stupid shit like that. Doesn't mean I can't make a damn fine blade, dicklicks. Mane, behave, you shit!" He blew angrily at the hair that threatened to swallow his vision.

His charcoal mane was indifferent towards him.

"Fuck, whatever. Onto the next town or city over..." The stallion huffed, putting on the cart's harness and lurching forward, slowly pulling along the cart one step at a time. But just as he started to move, he stopped in his tracks and thought to himself.

"...Why do I even bother with this?" He asked himself, standing in the middle of a dirt road that seemed to lead to nowhere. "Business is pretty much ruined, and I couldn't pay rent even if I did manage to land another place to crash at. I can barely feed myself as it is."

Forge stood in place, staring off into space before his head jerked back a little, as if remembering the reason.

"Oh yeah...'cause fuck giving up, that's why. I'm not gonna let a bunch pansy dickfucks get to me." He bolstered himself up with his newfound resolve before lunging forward into motion once more, pulling the cart with the tools of his craft behind him, letting his feet take him wherever they pleased, not even remotely bothered by the fact that he was still wearing the hammerhooves, which were pretty heavy and slowed his lazy saunter considerably. Still, he didn't feel like taking them off.

...Where the fuck was he, anyway?

*****

One pony controlled destiny. That was what voices told her. But the voices liked to say a lot of things.That's what voices do: voice their opinions. But Luna liked the voices. They were there for her when no one else was, when she could no longer feel the love and support of her followers. But sometimes, she didn't have enough banana bread for the pudding. The voices liked to yell at her when she didn't have enough banana bread.

But Luna was a good girl. Luna always did what they told her to do, because if she didn't, they said they would tell on her, and the voices said that she would have to go back to the moon and she would never come back again. Luna didn't want that. So she was always a good girl and if she was a good girl, the voices would tell her a special fortune. But Luna had to do her chores first before she could have her dessert.

Sometimes, the voices made her do things that were scary obey. But other times, she had lots of fun doing her chores listen to my voice. Today, all she had to do was skip rope with a friend of hers stop please. Her friend today was a little foal with a pretty white mane and a yellow coat. She was pretty it hurts so much. Luna took the rope from her new friend, and began to skip rope with her, giggling with each hop, skip, and jump. Skipping rope with friends was so much fun help me.

But Luna stopped when she saw her friend sniffling. The voices said that she needed to smile again. Luna put on a silly face and pulled the foal's lips into a smile again. The voices said they were pleased, so Luna was pleased. Making them happy was all that mattered to her...as long as she could stay with her new friends.

*****

Far beneath the surface of Equestria, in a room wrapped in the stygian darkness that consumed all hope of return, the howls of a screaming foal could be heard echoing off of the walls of Abysmal Catacombs, the final resting place and burial for many of the royalty in Equestria. The foal whimpered, tied to a chair, her intestines used to skip rope now splayed out on the floor, and her cheeks torn from her face. Crimson ran down her chin like the tears that flowed from her eyes, dripping quickly into her lap as she struggled against the excruciating pain of the torture. The foal could hardly scream anymore, throat swelled up and hoarse from her cries of pain.

Though she could not see, she looked to the ceiling, wondering where had Celestia gone? Why had she been chosen to be...why, just why?! The foal lurched forward suddenly and purged once more, the stench of bile soaking into her coat and mixing with the room's vile scent of urine and feces from when the poor child had voided herself in fear, and rotting flesh from the corpses that lay strewn about the room. The child could do no more now than shake and cough as her throat struggled to take in foul air.

This room was going to be the foal's grave. And the foal knew it. The foal wanted to die, even as every inch of her body screamed and struggled just for the miniscule chance of survival. The concept of wanting death, and the revelation of why anyone would ever wish death upon themselves scared her...but not as much as the foreboding sensation of impending doom that had befallen her. The foal wept, dearly missing her life of childish ignorance, her friends, and the warm embrace of her mother and her lavender smell, all of which she had not fifteen minutes ago...it wasn't fair! She didn't want to die!!

Eventually, as the blood gushed from her 'smile', she ceased her whimpering. She was too weak, too broken-minded, too pained to register anything. She no longer had the strength to even welcome death with open arms, and she barely felt Luna's hoof as it pushed her bloodied chin up. "Thou must be awfully hungry...well I am in possession of a big marshmellow right here, but thou art going to have to open thy mouth really wide, little one!" The horrid sing-song voice muffled its sickly tune into her ear.

"Say, ahhhhhh...wider, dearest..." The mind-shattered princess wrenched the foal's mouth open all the way, still trying to open it wider yet, forcing her head back violently in the process. "Wider...~" The foal could not struggle anymore, save to gag and heave, trying to breathe despite her inevitable fate as her jaw began to waver and crack. "Just a little more..." The foal made one last squeak as she felt her neck crackle and jolt with pain.

Snap.

The foal's head dangled grotesquely over the back rest of the chair, her jaw now a loose piece of flesh, hanging against her mouth by the skin. "Ah, the little ones always tire so quickly...shall I find another friend to play with?" Luna asked the darkness of the room, the echoing of her voice, and the many thoughts that plagued her mind at once.

Luna stood there, bathed in the absolute darkness, as if waiting for some divine answer before turning around and walking towards a pile of corpses, corpses of foals and mares, and arranging them so they were huddled around her. Seemed to almost hug her, as if they were making a pitiful, postmortem attempt to strangle her and reclaim the lives they all had lost to her insanity, to her burning desire for retribution. "Good night my friends, I hope tomorrow is just as fun as the tonight." She yawned, resting her head on one corpse's torn entrails.

As she fell asleep, she mumbled dark curses and violent utterings, her face distorting into a murderous expression.

She would be damned to not be the pony the voices spoke of. As long as she had the voices...she could do anything.

With the voices at her side, she would never have to leave again. She could be with her people...forever.