The Mirrors

The world stopped.

Stillness forced its chilling grip over the frozen landscape.

All conscious eyes locked upon The Bringer as it stood its corrupted ground against Celestia’s sun. If everything that had already happened wasn’t enough, this was undeniable proof; this was no ordinary space rock. Had it been, and another great collision between it and Equestria would have come to pass. But, instead, it went head to head with the dimming sun.

Unmoving.

The two could do nothing. Twilight stood upon the road before the Boutique, mouth agape, with a white figure standing close behind her with its eyes closed in acceptance.

And the meteor began an excruciatingly familiar tremble.

It shook in its place, defying all logical reasoning once more. Defying hope. Defying space. Defying everything.

Only this time, it was real.

The sound of a volcano’s fury erupted across the silvering sky.

The Bringer torpedoed away from Equestria’s platinum features, burning through the slowly mirror-turning skies. It rocketed toward the only hope left in the world. The only thing that kept Equestria from toppling upside-down.

The Bringer’s prize was the sun itself.

“Wait… the sun…? The sun can’t be conquered! That stupid meteorite will just burn up in its internal heat and pressure!” Twilight breathed a sigh of relief.

But she breathed too soon.

The sun, Celestia’s sun, in all its magnificent, blazing glory, went out.

The sun *went out***.

And as The Bringer made its apparent contact with the great ball of flame, a shining, silver layer, with agonizing slowness, spread like liquid over the sun’s outermost surface. It had been overtaken.

Overtaken by an impossible asteroid.

A mysterious, originless, deadly asteroid.

A blood-red, blazing, lying murderer.

A murderer that just petrified The Princess’ soul.

The purple mare removed her hoof from her mouth, still in shock and disbelief. The sun could not just go out. Princess Celestia couldn’t just die.

That’s… impossible!

“Well, in case you didn’t notice, nothing is impossible anymore,” the ghost behind her read her mind, still somehow managing to make a cruel joke.

She spun at him to retaliate; her face an impossible combination of fury, terror, and sadness. Her violet eyes were filled with tears and flame.

“Oh, REALLY? I didn’t notice! Why don’t you fill me in on everything else I ALREADY KNOW?!”  She screamed through pained hiccups.

“…My my, Twilight. I quite like your fire. We should do this more often,” he laughed as steam plumed from her ears, her tears drying almost immediately.

“You LIKE my FIRE? You LIKE it? Well, you know what I’d like? I’d like YOU to GET OUT OF HERE! You’ve been NOTHING but a sarcastic jerk since we met! YOU AREN’T HELPING ME AT ALL!” She exploded with enough volume to rival The Bringer.

“…Ok.” He closed his eyes. “You don’t want me here? Ok. You don’t want my help? Ok. You want to be alone as you watch your world end with you?  Fine by me.” His jolting voice lessened.

And his eyes regained their long lost pupils.

“So then, dear,” his voice soothed to a deep, quiet echo, “you don’t need me? You want me gone? Well, I think you need me more than you know. Look down.”

Twilight glanced at the ground for half of a moment in an attempt to irritate the ghost, but instead her eyes stopped and locked on her hooves.

Silver.

And spreading.

Without feeling, liquid silver spread over her. She was joining Equestria; frozen in time.

The Mirrors were upon her.

They trapped her legs in place.

“You aren’t invincible, Twilight Sparkle. No one is. Don’t count yourself as an exception.”

The Mirrors covered her tail.

Her horn began to glow.

“Magic can’t save you.”

The spread reached her cutie mark.

“Every living soul has a protector. Someone that keeps them alive; keeps them ticking. Even when they should be dead.”

Reflectiveness coated her stomach. Twilight began to panic.

“You want your guardian to abandon you? So be it.”

It crawled up to her neck.

“Please… please… stop…” her voice was pure desperation.

“My, whoever are you talking to?” The ghost mocked, glancing from side to side.

He smiled an evil smile of pure victory as he watched the once-purple, now-silver unicorn struggle pointlessly as the mirrors slowly covered her face.

And after the sand in the hourglass ran out, Twilight Sparkle was no more.

Beyond looked at his new piece of art. A perfect replica of the “once-great” Twilight Sparkle. What a joke. The last thing anyone with wit would do was exactly what she had just done. Turning against the one thing left in the world besides herself.

But he wasn’t a killer. Oh, no. Certainly not. He had reasons for his actions. Good reasons. This? This is how the ignorant are to be dealt with. The unnecessary. Let them feel his pain. To Equestria, The Bringer was the bane of everything. To Beyond, The Bringer was Death’s last message for him. He would never be saved. And some day, after all this had ended, and after everyone had been saved, he would fade. No trace left of him. He would be forgotten. And that would be it.

He stared into the statue's eyes. Pure terror. But there was something… more… Something embedded deep in that fear. He searched for it. Ah…. Understanding. So she had realized what she had truly done. She understood her mistakes.

...He saw that as noble.

His eyes clouded, whitening by the moment.

“Twilight Sparkle,” his voice cracked, “thou hath felt Death itself. Thy guardian hath failed thee.” His voice began to echo with the sound of a thousand others, turning his usually scratchy, electric voice, to unearthly boom of power. “None hath felt such as thou, and lived to speak of it. Death is punishment. But Death is not unforgiving,” his pupils faded, the voices of the guardians fading with them.

“And for your own redemption,” he scratched, “return. Return, that the world may know you as The Bringer’s Bane. Return, that this place of one-loving care and greatness be restored.”

“For everyone’s sake. For my sake. Return.”

Light enveloped the clearing. A burst of energy flashed from the statue of Twilight, and if anything living existed anymore, it would have been blinded.

A purple unicorn fell to the steely road with it's face buried in it's hooves, weeping.

“Calm down, Twilight. It’s over,” he attempted.

“No more falling… I can’t take it…” she stuttered through tears.

“No more falling,” he comforted.

She wiped her eyes clear, and tremblingly stood upright. She looked at Beyond with her half scared, half more-than-relieved violet eyes, showing no more signs of hatred. She looked down at herself in the reflecting road, and saw color; nearly collapsing in relief.

And followingly tensed.

“Why…” she questioned the ghost, still looking down, “why did you let me… die…?”

“…You had to learn of what I am, and what you are. If I explained it, you wouldn’t believe me. I’m also half hoping that this evens us out,” he admitted.

“So you killed me?” confusion and betrayal twisted in her eyes.

“…I showed you that I am a guardian, and saved you. It’s my job. Besides, I didn't leave you in there long,” he tried.

Twilight caught a specific word she recognized, and laughed. “A guardian? But they’re not real! They’re just made u-”

“And earlier today, a meteor that made the world silver was a funny little story,” he interrupted. “I’m as real as you are.”

“But you only just died recently!" the unicorn demanded. "How could you have become a guardian so quickly?”

“Perhaps you recall that your whole world just died? Well, not really, but more or less. Guardians were suddenly in high demand. As soon as The Bringer stuck me down, I was given a guide. Do you remember a certain Book of Blood I was reading back in your subconscious library?”

Twilight’s mind clicked back to the exact moment.

‘She had tried to keep from looking, but another pony was leaning upon an oaken bookshelf not far from her, apparently reading a bright red book.’

“So… you’re my guardian…?”

“Yes, I am. And I, personally, cannot recommend your sending me away. Unless you enjoy the feeling of death, which I feel I can safely doubt.” He smiled apologetically.

Twilight opened her mouth to reply, but the sky decided to explode first, interrupting her, and rending her eyes shut and her ears ringing.

“Oh… my… God…” Beyond breathed as he watched the heavens.

Twilight didn’t hear, and so didn’t ask who God was.

The skies exploded again, though surprisingly Equesrtria wasn't shattering from the loudness.

And The Bringer revealed itself upon the sun, the source of the sounds.

Eclipsing.

The shell that coated the once-silver sun had vanished.

And three large wisping waves of the sun’s pure fiery energy were leaving it, and joining The Bringer. It was being depleted.

The Bringer was killing the sun itself.