And Other Ponies Are Hell
The soft echo of Twilight’s hooves reverberated through the empty halls of Canterlot Castle. Down the Hall of Heroes—the stained glass monument to the Elements of Harmony’s various victories—past the Grand Galloping Gala Ballroom—where the yearly gathering of Equestria’s most renowned citizens was held—and through the Sewers of Shame—Canterlot’s less well-known district for disreputable undesirables—that mellifluous sound of hoofsteps echoed, breaking the silence that hung like a warm summer’s air over the castle.
With each step, Twilight felt the silence surrounding her grow more and more profound. With each hoof-fall, that somber ambiance grew deeper and deeper. It was if someone had placed a great cloud over Canterlot while it was sleeping and smothered it. Not a single voice was to be heard. No guards, no chefs, no maids, no librarians, no janitors, no princesses, no friends, and especially no dental hygienists. Even that ubiquitous blujay, the one who had followed her around for months, singing constantly, was silent. Not just silent, in fact, gone. Every single living thing in the entirety of Equestria, from the tiniest amoeba, to the largest dragon… was gone.
And Twilight couldn’t have been more pleased.
After ascending to princesshood, Twilight began to find that she could stand her ‘subjects’ less and less. She used to marvel at how Celestia and Luna had managed to maintain their sanity for the past millennia, but then she simply realized that sanity was… a relative term. She hatched a plan. It was a mad, brilliant, and altogether ludicrous scheme, but she felt compelled to test it out, if only for the sake of her own peace and quiet.
One morning, when she was greeted by the royal checklist bearer, Twilight decided to do the unthinkable. In the middle of the 43rd item (replace all 2-ply toilet paper with standard 4-ply), she did what only one pony had done before. She banished him to the Moon.
With a pop, and a slight crackle, the innocent, yet extremely annoying, stallion disappeared into thin air, leaving behind only his glasses, cap, and that austere checklist. Almost not believing that it had worked, she waited for him to reappear, new checklist in hoof and a scowl on his face. But after several minutes of pure, blissful silence, she realized that he was gone for good, and that was the end of it. At least, that’s what she thought.
About a month after her first banishment, Twilight was going about her princessly duties as per usual. Dismissing requests for retrials, talking down to the general populace, ordering food and then having it returned for no reason, really just the normal stuff. Things seemed to be going pretty well. She had a crown, a throne, and a badass scepter she could wave at peasants to scare them for kicks. She had not mentioned the checklist-bearer’s banishment to anyone, not even her friends, and no one had said a word about his sudden disappearance. Halfway through one morning, however, Celestia approached Twilight.
“Twilight,” she said, opening the door to Twilight’s study and casually strolling in, her face betraying her calm demeanor. “Do you have a moment? I wanted to speak with you.”
Twilight glanced up from the paper clip requisition forms she had been looking over (and was not planning on signing off on), pushing her glasses to the bridge of her nose. “Oh, Princess! Yes, of course. Please come in, sit down. What is it?”
Celestia smiled that calm, welcoming smile of hers, though her eyes were still hard. “You’re a princess now, too, remember?”
With a sigh and a glance down at the piles of paperwork cluttering her desk, Twilight replied, “I’m reminded of that fact every day. I swear, I clear this pile off everyday, and yet it’s the exact same size the next morning.”
“Mm,” Celestia hummed. “Bureaucracy does have its downsides, does it not? Anyway, I didn’t come here to talk with you about our legal system.” She paused, her brow furrowing. “Actually, I suppose I did, in a manner of speaking.” She gave her head a little shake. “That’s not the point. Well, it is, but it isn't... if that makes sense.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow.
Celestia sighed. “The point is that I’ve been hearing some troubling rumors as of late. Rumors about you.”
Twilight frowned, slipping her glasses off and setting them aside. “What do you mean?” She folded her hooves and leaned forward. “I haven’t done anything rumor-worthy since that time with the dead bodies. Totally not my fault, by the way.”
“Of course not.” Celestia’s auroral mane flowed like a river, gently undulating as she stood in silence.
Twilight cast a glance sideways, coughing awkwardly. “Aaaaaaaaanyway…”
“Anyway, it’s come to my attention that you may have… enacted a certain punishment upon a citizen of Equestria without proper legal authority.” Celestia gave Twilight a knowing look. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
Twilight’s heart caught in her throat. “I… I’m not sure what you’re talking about. Punishment isn’t really my department.”
Celestia nodded. “Yes, I’m aware. That’s part of the problem.”
“I’m sorry, Princess,” Twilight said apologetically. “I don’t have a clue what you’re referring to.”
Celestia sighed. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.”
Twilight’s eyes widened. “Come to what?”
“I didn’t believe the rumors at first either. I thought, ‘Twilight could never do that!’, and ‘Well, maybe she could, but still’. But I knew I had to check myself, just to be sure.”
“You… checked?”
Celestia nodded gravely. “That’s right, Twilight. I went to see for myself if what I had heard was true. I went to the Moon, and do you know what I saw?”
Twilight said nothing, her horn taking on a slight glow.
“I saw him,” Celestia said, pausing to gauge Twilight’s reaction. She waited for her to say something, but after hearing nothing, she continued. “Daily Routine was his name. Did you know that?”
“I didn’t—”
“He told me he had been trapped on the Moon for the past month, and that you were the one who had banished him. He said he didn’t know what he did to deserve such a punishment.” Celestia’s lips pursed. “Twilight, do you know why I banished Luna to the Moon?”
Twilight kept silent, her horn glowing brighter.
“Because it was the last option I had,” Celestia said, her voice growing harsh.She stepped closer to Twilight. “Do you know how hard it was for me to—”
Celestia was cut off mid-sentence as she disappeared with a pop.
Twilight, her horn glowing bright purple now, stared at the space Celestia had occupied moments ago. “I didn’t think it would actually work,” she mused aloud. “I… I just banished Celestia.” As that thought sunk into to Twilight’s brain, worming its way into her consciousness, she smiled. “I just banished freakin’ Celestia! Hahaha! I did it! Whoo!” She jumped up from her seat and onto the desk. With a kick of her hooves, she danced a little jig atop the desk. Papers and pens and books went flying to and fro as she gyrated her body wildly.
A few moments later, after hearing all the commotion, a guardspony entered the room cautiously. As he slowly opened the door, he saw Twilight still standing on her desk. His mouth opened slightly.
“Umm, excuse me, Princess Twilight? Is everything… all right?”
Twilight froze, looked over to the guard and let a wide grin split her face. “Yep, everything’s pretty damn peachy if I do say so myself.”
He nodded slowly. “Peachy… right. I only ask because I heard some… sounds, and I just wanted to make sure things were, umm, y’know, fine.”
“All quiet on the western front,” said Twilight cheerily.
“Riiiiiight,” the guard said, nodding slowly. “Anyway, have you seen Celestia? She came in here earlier, but I didn’t see her leave.”
Twilight’s smile quickly faded away. “Oh? She did, huh? Hmm, maybe I can help you find her.”
The guard smiled. He waved his hoof dismissively. “Thanks, but I’m sure she’s—”
“Aaaaaaaaand gone.” Wiping her hooves off, Twilight curled her lips up and blew on her horn. Hopping down from the desk, she made her way past what remained of the guard, some armor and a spear, pushing past the door and into the hallway.
As Twilight strolled through the halls of Canterlot Castle, she couldn’t help but feel an immense sense of satisfaction at having been so clever as to devise a way to rid herself of other ponies. Suddenly, all the little things that had bothered her before seemed to melt away like pats of butter on a hot skillet. No more, ‘Good morning, Princess Twilight!’. Gone. No more, ‘What’d you do that for, Princess Twilight?’ Gone. Never again would she have to hear, ‘Why, Princess Twilight? Why?’ Gone. ‘No, Wait! Stop!’ Gone. ‘My family!’ Gone. ‘ My wife!’ Gone. ‘My cat!’ Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.
Twilight let out a long, slow sigh. Banishment was exhausting. It had only been an hour and over half of the castle had been banished. Only half, she corrected herself. There was still much work left to be done. Even her friends would not be spared, especially not Pinkie Pie.
Hey, Rainbow Dash. What’s up? You think the castle feels kinda empty? Well, that’s probably because—Gone. Oh, hi there, Applejack. Looking for Rainbow Dash? Well, she’s—Gone. Pinkie Pie? Just stop bouncing for one second so I can—Gone. Fluttershy, Rarity? What are you girls—Gone. Not even Spike, who had been through thick and thin with her, who had weathered every storm, endured every bout of insanity, was safe from the Banishing.
“Yo, Twilight!” shouted Spike as he waved at her from down the hall. His little feet smacked against the marble floors, echoing through the deathly-silent halls as he ran towards Twilight. When he finally reached her, he doubled over, hands on his knees, wheezing and coughing like he’d just run a friggin’ marathon. He was even more out of shape than she remembered. Doughy little limbs hanging off his fat frame. ‘Something weird is going on,” he said, in between ragged breaths, “I can’t find anypony anywhere.”
Twilight looked down at him, expressionless. “No one? Anywhere?”
He shook his head. “Everyone’s gone missing.”
She nodded. “Good. I’m making better progress than I thought. If things keep up, I’ll be ahead of schedule.”
Spike cocked his head to the side. “Progress? Schedule? Ahead of? Keep up? What are you talking about? What’s going on?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m just in the middle of banishing everypony to the Moon,” she said, nonchalantly. “Honestly though, it’s a lot more work than I had originally anticipated.” She frowned. “Doing it individual by individual is really time consuming.”
“You’re… banishing everyone?” Spike asked, his mouth agape.
“Yup.”
He held out his hands, shaking them. “But… why?”
Twilight smiled cheerfully. “Oh, Spike, you silly goose. It’s not about why, it’s about—Gone.”
Buffing her chest, Twilight surveyed her handiwork. With Spike out of the picture, she had successfully rid herself of all the Canterlot Castle ponies, and one dragon, and it was only just time for afternoon tea. Perfect timing. She took a deep breath. Now she just had the rest of the world to go. After tea, of course.
Days, weeks, months, and years passed in the blink of an eye. Twilight devoted herself to ridding the world of every single living thing. She started with ponies, then moved on to other sentient creatures. Not content with just that, she then moved on to non-sapient lifeforms—even going so far as to banish the trees in the Everfree forest because one of them made a face at her—until eventually there was nothing left. Not a single soul, besides her own, was left on the planet. Dozens, or maybe hundreds or thousands of years had passed since her quest began, or it could’ve been two weeks. It was hard to tell. She had stopped keeping track long ago. For all she knew, millennia had come and gone in the time since she started, but all that was irrelevant now. There was only silence.
When she was sure that she had completed her journey of en-banishmenting, Twilight found her way back to where it all began: Canterlot Castle. She wandered through the halls, past the empty chairs and empty tables of the dining hall, and the empty bedrooms of the west wing, and the empty showers of the locker room. A joyful silence hung over the place. However, in spite of her bliss, Twilight couldn’t help but feel a certain nagging sensation, like she had missed something, something important.
After a time, she came upon a door, one she had not seen before. She pressed her hoof against its exterior and attempted to push it open, but it refused to budge. Frowning, she looked around for a way to open it. A small hole, near the center of the door, looked promising. It was about the size of her horn, and maybe, just maybe, that would be the secret. She tilted her head down and filled the hole with her horn. Immediately light blasted out of the hole and ran up lines along the door, filling the room with a light blue glow.
Twilight took her horn out and stepped back as the light lines split open and revealed a passageway that was wholly new to her. Lining the walls were torches that had long since burnt out, only wax puddles remained, hanging off the edge of the holders like stalagmites.
“I’ve never seen this room before,” Twilight mused aloud. “I wonder where it leads?”
With a shrug, she decided to venture into the pitch black passageway. She brought light to the tip of her horn and then created a single ball, allowing it to float above her as she continued. It illuminated the decaying hallway with an eerie glow, allowing Twilight to see the cobwebs and mold that had managed to overwhelm the hall. It likely had not been used for years, decades even.
Further and further she pushed, past what seemed like thousands upon thousands of dead torches. Eventually, after an indeterminate amount of time, Twilight came upon another door. This one was simple, and wooden. She thrust it open with a wave of her horn and stepped into a dimly-lit room.
Scrolls, books, quills, and inkwells littered the tiny room. A candle upon a desk flickered weakly, illuminating the face of the pony sitting at that desk. She wore no expression, and her eyes seemed faded. Her mane, still that inky black, seemed to flow less blithely, and her hooves shook as she pushed herself up.
Twilight stared in silence at the other pony, watching emotionlessly as she stood up and walked around to the other side of the desk.
“Twilight,” she said, “I was wondering when you’d find me here.”
“Princess Luna,” Twilight replied, her eyes following Luna, “I thought I’d banished you long ago.”
“It would seem not, wouldn’t it? Unless, of course, I’m not actually here and you’re just imagining things.”
Twilight let out a single laugh. “No, I doubt that you’re just an illusion. I haven’t lost my sanity yet. At least, I’m pretty sure I haven’t. How would you even check that?”
The other princess ignored that question. Luna, despite being immortal, looked as though she had aged a thousand years. Her features sagged and she moved slowly, deliberately. “I’ve been here for decades,” she said, “waiting, watching, searching. I was here the day you banished my sister, and I hid for fear of the same happening to me. I’ve regretted not being there with her ever since.”
Twilight shrugged. “Meh, you weren’t missing much.”
“I wasn’t sure what happened to you to make you do that, but now I don’t care anymore. I’ve devoted all of my time and energy to finding a way to bring them back,” Luna said, continuing to ignore Twilight.
“Bring them back?” Twilight asked, her eyebrow raised. “Why in my name would you want to do that?”
Luna placed a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “Because I know what a thousand years of loneliness does to a pony. I know the pain and suffering you would face, even more so knowing you did it to yourself. I couldn’t let that happen again, not to anyone.”
Twilight considered her. “So why haven’t you brought anypony back yet? I remember everypony I’ve banished, and I didn’t see any of them twice.”
Luna sighed. “I can’t. I’m not strong enough. If I were to become Nightmare Moon, then perhaps, but I won’t ever walk that path again. The cost is too high.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Melodrama much? So, you couldn’t bring them back, huh? I guess that means you failed.”
Luna shook her head slowly. “Not exactly. I found another way. I can still bring them back… but I need your help.” She looked pleadingly at Twilight. “Together we can undo what you did. We can change things back to the way they were, fix everything.” Her eyes hardened as she stared into Twilight’s eyes. “But I need you to do that. You have to be willing to help me.”
Twilight pursed her lips. “After all the work I’ve done. After the years I spent completing my greatest achievement, you want me to undo it all?” She laughed. “Yeah friggin’ right. Why in the world would I do that? Took me forever to do it once. I don’t have two forevers, Luna.”
“I can see it in your eyes,” Luna said, after a pause. “I can see that you miss them, your friends, Celestia, and everypony else. You want them back, but you’re afraid to admit it to yourself. You’re afraid of what retribution you might face. You want them returned to you more than anything, but you can’t bare to face your mistakes.” She paused again, blinking. “I should know. You have the same eyes I did all those years ago. The loneliness, the profound sense of emptiness you’ll face is the most soul-crushing experience you’ll ever have. Just like I was saved by you, I wish to save you from that fate… from the fate I once had.”
Twilight was silent for a few seconds. She pursed her lips, then said, “You don’t get it do you, Luna? I’m not like you. Loneliness is my happiness. I’ve got everything I ever wanted.” She smiled. “Well… almost everything.” Her horn began to glow.
Luna’s eyes widened. “Wait, Twilight. Think about what you’re—”
“Gone.”
She waited a moment before allowing the silence to settle in once more. It consumed her, enveloping her like a warm blanket. Finally, after an eternity of searching, she had found true happiness.
