The Immortal Game

by AestheticB

Rating: mature
Tags: Main 6, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Princess Luna, Original Character, Adventure, Princess Celestia
Length: 290731

Princess Luna leads the Elements of Harmony against the corrupted Twilight Sparkle

Long ago, in the magical land of Equestria, there lived a powerful King and his dark Queen. Immortal and ignorant, their end came at the hooves of their daughters, Celestia and Luna, who sought to build a better future for ponykind.

Now ponykind’s old gods have returned.

Twilight Sparkle is trapped inside her own mind, slave to a cruel and impulsive consciousness built from everything she is not. Powerless and voiceless, she must find a way to stop the being that calls itself Nihilus from destroying everything she holds dear.

Luna is tasked with assembling the remaining Elements of Harmony in hopes of freeing their leader. For if ponykind is to have any hope, it is in Twilight Sparkle. And if Twilight Sparkle is to have any hope, it is in her five friends.

Facing her father in mortal combat, Celestia must do everything she can to ensure that ponykind has the tools to survive before she falls. With inevitable defeat bearing down upon her, she makes the first move in the oldest and deadliest game known to creation.

Related Fan Content
Six Star Equestria Daily Feature

Published 2011-10-29 04:26:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-01-30 01:30:45 UTC

A Beautiful Morning

A Beautiful Morning

War.

Rarity had not been able to banish the thought from her mind since they had left the dance club. Celestia must have been the one to turn the moon red. Only she had the capability to turn the moon red. What are the chances that Princess Celestia made a mistake, using a millennium-old symbol by accident? The chances were zero. The princess was not known to make even small mistakes, let alone one of this magnitude. That meant one thing:

War.

Equestria had to be at war, but with whom? The answer was obvious, of course. Either princess Luna had once again become Nightmare Moon, or somepony somewhere believed they had the power to rival both the princesses and every soldier in Equestria. The thought was a frightening one.

She arrived at the Carousel Boutique and immediately made for her bedroom. After searching around under her bed for several seconds, her hoof grasped a long, slender chest. She slid it out from under the bed.

Sweetie Belle was having a sleepover at Sweet Apple Acres with her friends, leaving Rarity home alone for the night. The filly wouldn’t like it, but Rarity would have to forbid such things in the future. Whatever was going on, whoever they were at war with, she would want to keep her sister close. Sweetie would not approve, but how could Rarity make her understand?

Rarity opened the tiny chest. Inside were fourteen diamonds of varying shapes resting upon a cloth. None of them were particularly pretty, and Rarity would never consider using them were she designing a dress. Still, she ran her hoof over each of them in turn, feeling each facet, testing each edge. Were she less careful, she could have easily cut herself- but no, of course she didn’t cut herself.

Touching the fourteen gems reminded her too much of days long from long ago. Unbidden, a memory came to her. It was of her father, handing her her newborn sister for the first time.

“This is your sister, Rarity,” he had said. “Your mother is gone now, so we’re going to take care of her. Your mother wanted us to name her ‘Sweetie Belle’, But I prefer ‘Allure’. What do you think?”

Rarity had answered that Allure was fine. She knew better than to disagree with her father.

Sighing, Rarity closed the lid of the chest and slid it back under her bed where it belonged. She hoped that she would never have to open it again, that its contents would remain hidden to the world. They were not diamonds to be worn, or shown off. As much as she hated the chest, its existence was necessary, should the unthinkable ever happen.

“So Twilight, how are you handling things so far?”

Nihilus trotted into Ponyville with an entourage consisting of forty or so of Terra’s earthpony puppets. The puppets weren’t by any means perfect replicas- each of them was almost entirely incapable of thinking for itself, and as such could only follow simple orders. On top of that, each of the ponies was physically identical: all male, with the same jet-black coat and neon green manes and tails. Their eyes and eyebrows were all a solid green. They didn’t look around at their surroundings, or walk in formation. The simply cast the occasional glance at Nihilus, as if following her was their only purpose.

Which, come to think of it, was their only purpose. One could never have too many witless brutes ready to die for them, if Nihilus was to be any judge.

At length, the other unicorn answered her. “Leave me alone,” she said faintly.

“Seems your spirit broke sooner than I expected. A pity, really, as I had figured tormenting you would be an excellent warm up to taking all your friends. ”

Twilight didn’t answer.

“While you watch helplessly, of course,” Nihilus added just for good measure.

It was the morning after Titan’s return, and their passage through the town was drawing looks from everypony on the streets. It made sense, really. The people of Ponyville still hadn’t heard from the Canterlot, and had probably been able to see the fight between the king and the princess even at this distance. The whole town was probably on edge, and almost forty strange looking earthponies were trotting down the street in unison.

Nihilus would have preferred holding off taking Ponyville directly, instead bringing some of the other Element bearers under her control first. It would have likely been quite easy, in fact, to break the minds of the others just as she had done with Rainbow Dash. Her alicorn superiors, however, had insisted that she immediately take Ponyville and dispose of “Celestia’s elite”, and Nihilus had to obey them... for now.

Twilight responded at length. “You’re a monster.”

At this, Nihilus laughed out loud. Several townsponies gave her strange looks as she continued to laugh at something they couldn’t hear. “Twilight! Calling me a monster does not do your vocabulary or my actions any justice. I’m just getting started, kiddo.”

“This is insane, Nihilus. You don’t need to do any of this!”

“You know what, Twilight? You’re absolutely right! I don’t need to do any of this. But you see, it’s going to just be so much fun.”

Twilight didn’t answer her.

“Oh don’t worry, kiddo. I know just the thing to cheer you up. What you need is a friend.” Nihilus reached out with her magic and gave a little tug.

It was several moments later that a gray-maned, black-coated pegasus came crashing to the ground in front of them. She came down fast, barely flared out her wings in time, and landed with her face in the dirt. The pegasus spasmed violently, then jerked to her feet and looked at Nihilus, her expression changing from a look of defiant hatred to a blank stare. There were bags under her eyes, and her mane and coat were dirty and disheveled. She had obviously not slept the previous night.

“I must say, my pet.” Nihilus took several steps forward until she was less than a foot from the pegasus. “You exhibit a remarkable ability to resist the pull of my spell.”

The pegasus lunged at her, but her muscles locked up as soon as she started moving. She toppled forward again onto the dirty street as Nihilus delicately sidestepped her.

“Bad,” the pegasus mumbled to herself as she spat dirt out of her mouth. “Bad, bad pony.”

“It must be agonizing, really, to be so close to me but be completely unable to do anything. Twilight isn’t taking very well to her complete powerlessness either. Is there anything you’d like to say to her?”

At the mention of Twilight’s name, the pegasus’ head shot up. “Twilight,” she breathed softly. Then she screwed her eyes shut. “I hate you,” she finished quickly.

“You’ll pay for this.”

“Forgive me for not feeling threatened. And it isn’t my problem if you don’t like my new toy,” Nihilus replied.

At last she came to the town hall, her destination. She climbed up onto the slightly raised balcony that surrounded the building and her earthponies fanned out on the ground around her in a semi-circle. Her pet looked around, then curled up into a ball beside the stairs.

“Citizens of Ponyville!” Nihilus shouted. Her voice carried to the far edges of the town square. “I bring news from Canterlot!”

The forty puppets she had brought with her had already attracted a great deal of attention on their way into town, and her little show with Rainbow Dash had helped. In moments, a small gathering of ponies was growing at the base of the town hall.

Nihilus turned toward the crowd. The ponies were talking amongst themselves in hushed voices, eyeing Nihilus and the ring of strange earthponies. She scanned the crowd for any of their targets, but none of them were there.

She hadn’t expected Fluttershy or Applejack to have heard or seen her because they lived so far from the town centre. Or Pinkie Pie, for that matter, as Sugarcube Corner was several streets away. The Carousel Boutique was visible from where she was standing. a sign out front read: “Out on business. Store closed momentarily”.

I suppose can work with this, Nihilus thought to herself. The other unicorn was well-known by the townsponies. While Nihilus would prefer a live demonstration, it was by no means necessary.

She judged that the crowd was large enough for her to proceed. “Listen well, my little ponies, for what you are about to hear is joyous news indeed!” she cried. She paused, giving everypony in the crowd time to once again turn their attention towards her. “The King and Queen of Equestria have returned!”

A murmur went through the crowd, and the ponies gave each other confused looks. It was clear that none of them knew just who she was talking about.

“Equestria doesn’t have a king,” a stallion in the crowd pointed out to her. “We’ve never had a king.”

Nihilus nodded along, then rolled her eyes when he finished. “So you have been led to believe,” she said. “But in truth your Princess Celestia was merely a usurper, a rebel who treacherously locked King Titan and his wife away so that she and her sister could seize Equestria for themselves. But the king has returned, and the sun tyrant has been destroyed!”

Her statement was met with disbelief, and in some cases, outrage. Almost immediately, ponies in the crowd began to heckle her.

“Why wouldn’t anypony know if we had had a king and queen?”

“Tell us what really happened in Canterlot!”

“Celestia isn’t a tyrant!”

“The princess can’t die!”

It was exactly the reaction Nihilus was expecting, and exactly the reaction she had been hoping for. She tapped into her well of magical power. It was enormous- Twilight Sparkle had been unmatched in raw magical power, and was well learned enough to make Nihilus a potent unicorn. She had more than enough power to suit her needs.

Instantly she felt the magic surge through her. It vibrated through her entire body and made the air crackle around her. Her hair shimmered and coalesced into a mass of seething black ether tinged with indigo at the edges. It began to sway gently as if being blown by a nonexistent wind. The blood in her veins was felt as though it had been replaced with liquid electricity. She was overtaken by the sheer magnitude of the power at her disposal.

“Enough!” Her voice cracked through the air like a whip. Everypony in the crowd drew away and gasped.

Nihilus swung her gaze back and forth, staring them down. Nopony would meet her eyes. “Your god is dead, you pitiful little foals. Overthrown in a single night by an alicorn who possesses endless power and unfathomable intellect.” She emphasized her next words, “He is Titan, and you will ALL worship him, with more devotion than you ever paid to your dead princess!”

She watched the looks on their faces change from disbelief to fear. They were beginning to believe her.

“The raising of the sun will now be attended to by the king and queen’s newborn son, prince Empyrean. Should you have any problems with the new order, you will petition him at court.”

Nihilus stepped down and began to walk among the crowd. Ponies backed away from her as she moved through them, shooting looks at random townsfolk. None of them met her eyes.

“This brings us to a very important topic: myself,” she said, her voice losing its harshness. She spun around in place and gave a little flourish.

“Should any of you feel that the new monarchy is not adequate, know this: King Titan, Queen Terra, and Prince Empyrean rule by divine right. They created this world, the celestial sphere, and your species. Each of you owes to them everything you have.”

“Should any of you make the most unwise decision to act against them, passively or with violence, you will be branded as a rebel-” The crowd was hanging onto her every word, and she loved it. What she loved even more, however, was what came next:

“-And I will kill you.” The ponies in the crowd were now giving her passage a wide berth.

“Should any of you house any rebel, or keep from the monarchy any information regarding a rebel, I will kill you.”

Nihilus drank in their uncertainty, their terror, and felt exhilarated. She approached a mother standing with a unicorn filly, and the mare backed away. The filly, however, did not. She stood, looking up a Nihilus, confused and shaking.

“If I hear anything that makes me think you are a rebel.” She leaned down and looked the filly in the eyes, and the other pony gave a tiny gulp. “Even the slightest little peep-” she gave the filly a tap on the forehead with her horn, the stood and turned to face the rest of the crowd. “I will interrogate you, and you will beg me to kill you. Should I decide I would like to kill any of you for no reason whatsoever, I will, you guessed it, kill you.”

She emerged from the group of terrified ponies. The Carousel Boutique sat in front of her.

“Don’t do this,” a little voice in the back of her head begged gently.

She unleashed her magic, focusing on a point she imagined somewhere inside the Carousel Boutique.

The entire building imploded.

The colourful roof, the walls, even the sign out front simply burst into splinters, tearing themselves apart as they were pulled inward by her spell. The sound of tearing wood was deafening, and sawdust filled the air around the boutique. Nihilus watched, if anything feeling even more energetic after the expenditure of power.

Nihilus heard her pegasus plaything give an incoherent scream that was suddenly cut short. She suppressed the urge to laugh.

“Don’t worry, Twilight. Rarity is off running some errand; I only killed her sister. Oh, and ruined her life’s work and left her homeless and destitute.” She thought about it for a moment. “Actually,” she told Twilight, “I like the way this turned out. Can you imagine the look on her face when she returns?”

Using the destructive magic and terrifying the townsponies had been exhilarating, and Nihilus was nowhere near finished. She tapped the immense well of power again, this time throwing herself through space. The air around her sizzled and cracked, and she reappeared once again atop the balcony outside the town hall.

“Pay attention!” she barked.

Forty-odd solid green sets of eyes and one set of magenta ones snapped toward her. The townsponies were still watching her, but many of them were inching away from the main crowd.

She called upon even more of her magical power, and began to create crude illusions to represent her targets as she named them off one by one.

“Rarity.” A sloppily constructed image of a white unicorn with a intricately kept mane appeared between her and the earthponies. She enlarged the cutie mark to ensure they all got a good look at it.

“Applejack.” The earthpony’s image was easy to construct in a way that made her identifiable, her hat and cutie mark being distinguishing traits.

“Fluttershy.” She noticed with glee that her store of magical power was not even close to running out; Twilight had certainly been a powerful unicorn.

“And Pinkie Pie.” She didn’t spend much effort on the final illusion. A pink coated pink haired pony named ‘Pinkie Pie’ would be easy to find for even these half-witted brutes.

She raised her voice again, making certain the crowd of townsponies heard her. “All of these ponies are dangerous rebels and you are to treat them as such. Should any of you think to join their cause against his majesty King Titan, the events of today will serve to help you... reconsider.”

She addressed her earthponies, “Eight of you to Sweet Apple Acres. Two of you search that wreckage.” She nodded sharply towards the ruins of the carousel boutique. “Six of you go with my pet to Sugarcube Corner, and two of you to Fluttershy’s cottage. The rest of you, search the entire town. Kill nopony, but do not be gentle. You will find these four, and you will bring them to me alive.”

She dispersed her illusions and looked back at to the townsponies. “Until every one of them is found, I will assume you are harboring these dangerous individuals. You will be treated accordingly,” she let the last word drip with menace.

The earthponies attacked.

They trampled through the crowd of townsponies and split into their respective groups. Her puppets kicked, shoved, and head-butted the helpless townsponies with the kind of casual brutality suited to a creature created only for violence. Once they realized their victim was not one of their targets, however, they simply moved on. Nihilus noticed with pleasure that several ponies were checked multiple times by different puppets. They broke down doors, kicked in windows, and otherwise caused mayhem.

Nihilus tugged on her pet’s magical leash, and the colorless pony turned to her. “Get to Sugarcube Corner, and carry out your task,” she said. Her monochromatic toy jerked and spasmed, obviously trying to resist, but eventually took to the air. Nihilus turned back to the chaos in the town square.

Ponies screamed and begged for restraint. Some frantically cried out their coat and mane colors, even waving their flanks, displaying their cutie marks to show that they weren’t one of her targets. Nothing worked. Nihilus watched the chaos unfold and smiled. Terra had ensured that the puppets would refrain from killing any non-vital targets, regardless of her orders, when she spun them from nothing. There was a fine line, she had said, between enforcing the new rule and encouraging rebellion through brutality.

One of her puppets burst.

She hadn’t seen it clearly. One moment she had watched lazily out of the corner of her eye as it struck the mail-mare with its front hooves, the next moment the mail-mare was staring up from the ground in confusion as the earthpony dissolved into a cloud of inky darkness. The cloud dissipated in less than a second, leaving no trace of the servant it had been. Nihilus perked up slightly.

Two more followed the first. This time she saw it- a rough shape moving through the crowd, definitely a pony. The figure’s features were hidden, however, by a hooded cloak.

Well that’s a little dramatic, Nihilus thought wryly. The strange pony moved with purpose, spinning and rolling, not away, but toward Nihilus. Two more earthponies were felled before the figure emerged from the crowd. The figure, a mare, let the oversized cloak fall to the ground around her as she faced the dark unicorn. Nihilus recognized her immediately.

“Princess Luna,” she greeted the alicorn. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you. Let’s make this quick, alright? I have ponies I need to capture.”

The princess regarded Nihilus, and recognition flashed in her eyes. The alicorn gave her a look of absolute loathing.

“Thou,” she spat. “Thou hast no conception of how much I am going to enjoy peeling thee away from her whilst thou scream. I hope thou hast more than unicorn magic to use against me. I am an alicorn.” She flared her wings and her horn began to glow. “This was thy first and last day among the living, parasite!”

The princess lunged.

Applejack’s hooves dug gently into the packed earth of the road she travelled. The harness for her apple cart sat heavily on her back, but it was only a small discomfort for the earthpony by now.

She tilted her hat forward so as to better shield her eyes from the hot summer sun. In the distance below her stretched Ponyville, but something about the town was strange. She was on her way down from Sweet Apple Acres, and she had seen an awful lot of ponies gathered in the town square. Now the crowd seemed to have dispersed, but as she got closer faint sounds began to carry from the town. Applejack thought she heard shouting.

It was another strange occurrence to add to the growing list. Applejack would arrive in town soon enough, and then she’d find out what all the ruckus was about. With luck, Twilight would have sent word back from Canterlot, explaining the strange noises they had heard the night earlier. There was also the matter of the moon turning red, for which nopony had had any explanation but Rarity.

Rarity’s answer, however, had been a little too melodramatic for Applejack. In any case, her explanation made no sense. Equestria didn’t make war, and that was just the way it was. True, small conflicts existed between ponies and their various neighbors, and in some cases even other ponies, but as a kingdom Equestria had never taken military action, ever.

Applejack shook her head. Here she was thinking about things that were way above a farm pony. She was likely just worrying where there was no need for it. She sighed and began pulling her apple cart towards town. Big Macintosh was selling apples in the market today, and she was bringing him a load of freshly bucked Red Delicious to carry him through the afternoon. While she was there, it wouldn’t hurt to check in and see if word had come back from Canterlot.

It wasn’t long before she spied several dark shapes travelling towards her on the road ahead. On closer inspection, there were a little less than ten of them, and they were galloping. She watched as they came closer. They were all identical earthponies with black coats and unnaturally bright green manes.

The ponies were yet another item to add to the list of strange happenings. She debated about whether or not she should just let them pass by, but in the end curiosity won her over and she resolved to ask them a couple questions. She unhooked the apple cart and stepped into their path.

“Howdy there!” she called out as the group of ponies approached. “Ah see y'all came from Ponyville. There something goin’ on down there that Ah should be worried about?”

The pony in the lead didn’t answer. He simply continued charging straight towards her, throwing his shoulder forward to strike her.

The pony crashed into her. It was a powerful blow, and Applejack was not prepared for it. Despite her sturdy frame, and the fact that she had all four hooves on the ground, she was knocked to the dirt.

“What in the hay do you think yer-” Her sentence was interrupted as her assailant kicked her with his forelegs, knocking the wind out of her and turning her over. Applejack gasped for air as he leaned in to examine her cutie mark.

“It is Applejack,” he said in a deep voice. It had an almost metallic echo to it, making it sound as though his lungs were hollow. From her position on the ground, Applejack saw another set of black hooves approach her.

“Take her,” the new pony said in the exact same hollow voice.

Before she could register what was happening, the first pony pinned her to the ground and knelt down on her neck, choking her.

Applejack’s confusion immediately became terror. She instinctively flexed the muscles in her neck to protect her windpipe, and began beating her legs against the ground uselessly. She tried throwing a shoulder back to roll him off, but he had her pinned too tightly. He had left one of her forelegs free, however, his own foreleg focused on choking her to death.

Panicking and out of options, Applejack threw her front leg out to hit him in the chin.

The punch was an unnaturally strong one. Applejack had worked for years on the family farm, strengthening her muscles into an enviable physique. She was also an earthpony, and a strong one at that. Not to mention she was fighting desperately for her life. All of these things combined into a punch that snapped outward lightning fast, and with incredible force.

She hit her mark, and the earthpony’s head whipped backward with an audible snap. Shocked, Applejack rolled him off of her and sprung the her feet. The other pony twitched once, then burst into a cloud of dense black smoke.

They aren’t real, she thought, They’re just some kind of fancy magic. At least she hoped that’s what they were. If not, she had just killed somepony. The thought did not sit well with her.

But there were more pressing matters at hand. Another earthpony stood just metres away from her, and another six of them stood behind him. Seven earthponies who were apparently trying to kill her. She had to get home, had to make sure Applebloom and Granny Smith were safe. But she couldn’t lead these strange earthponies there, which meant one thing:

She had to fight for her life.

The ponies began to slowly move towards her. She raised her back legs, and brought them downward onto the abandoned applecart. The front of the applecart shattered, setting hundreds of apples to roll across the ground. Applejack stepped out of the way of the wave of apples, but the earthponies were not so quick. They stumbled and tripped, struggling to remain on all four hooves. The closest pony fell over completely.

Applejack picked up two apples in her mouth and tossed them high into the air. While the two apples sailed skyward, she pivoted on her forelegs so that her back was to the closest earthpony. He was just regaining his feet.

She bucked him harder in the chest than she had ever bucked an apple tree. The front of his ribcage shattered under the force of her legs, splinters of bone pushed back into the vital organs they were meant to protect. Like the first pony, he vanished into a cloud of thick black smoke.

Applejack didn’t slow down. She repositioned herself as the apples she had thrown earlier fell back downward. Her back legs snapped out again to launch the apples at another earthpony. It was a difficult rodeo trick, one that many ponies took years to master.

Applejack had perfected it when she was eight. She aimed for her target’s head.

The first apple missed, but the second hit him and burst right between his eyes. The pony recoiled, blinded by the mush that now covered his face.

The remaining ponies were now all on their feet, and all of them faced her. They seemed completely unfazed that she had taken out two of their companions. The ponies didn’t spread out to surround her. They simply stared ahead with solid green eyes as they advanced towards her.

Applejack moved to put the closest pony between herself and the rest of the group, then waited. As she expected, he lunged at her as soon as he got close.

She caught his lunge, throwing her weight and turning herself so that he didn’t pin her, but was caught in a grapple. She twisted and spun and the earthpony was pushed to the ground, Applejack atop him.

Applejack brought her front legs up just as another dark pony tried to tackle her...

She brought her legs down, crushing her pinned victim’s skull as the next pony came sailing toward her head. But the earthpony she had been on top of exploded into the strange black smoke, and she fell the short distance to the ground. She tightened her form, drawing inward and hugging the ground, and the lunging pony sailed over her and landed on the road behind her.

She snapped her head back, waiting for the pony to turn around. When he did, she straightened and lashed out with her back legs in another incredibly powerful kick. She barely felt her legs connect with the earthpony’s face before he too dispersed.

She turned too late to see two of the remaining three ponies bearing down on her. They struck her, hard, and she was thrown to the ground again, this time landing back first. The two ponies were on top of her, pinning all four of her legs with their own.

She struggled helplessly as the final pony approached. He looked down at her, his face betraying no emotions whatsoever. He raised his front legs, preparing to smash her skull. She gave one last jerk, attempting to break free, but it was no use. Two ponies holding her down was too much. She got one last glance at the bottom of the earthpony’s hooves as he brought them down...

“EEEEEEYAAAA!”

Every one of the earthponies atop her was thrown off as a massive red pony slammed into them.

Macintosh! she realized.

She righted herself, and looked at her older brother. He was on the ground, tangled up in the other three earthponies he had just charged. Two of them lay under his hindquarters, dazed. The other was sprawled across his chest, head-locked by one of Mac’s front legs.

With a jerk, Mac snapped the neck of the pony he held. It too became only a cloud of rapidly fading darkness.

Applejack wasted no time. She sprung forward before the the other two earthponies could recover, landing with a hoof on each of their necks. They were helpless, and it was hardly fair, but she was long past sympathizing with the creatures that had almost killed her twice. They aren’t living ponies anyways, she thought uneasily as the two beneath her dispersed. The way their skulls caved in felt real enough.

Big Mac got to his feet and looked around. His eyes found the one remaining pony at the same time Applejack’s did. It was on its haunches, rubbing at its eyes despite the fact that the apple mush had all come off by now. They flesh around them was swollen, and she could barely see the solid green orbs beneath. The apple had hit its mark hard.

She and Mac both moved until they were at opposite sides of the earthpony. “What...” Applejack swallowed. “What should we do with him?”.

She met her brother’s eyes. They were hard.

“Only one thing to do, sister.”

Applejack nodded. This time she barely felt the impact at all. Only the light tapping of her and her brother’s hooves meeting amid a cloud of dark smoke.

Applejack adjusted her hat once more, “Mac-”

“They’re all over the town, AJ, and they’re looking for you. You and all your friends. Came up this way to warn you. Was almost too late.”

“Ah’m fine, Mac. We have to get Applebloom out of here, she-”

“Ah will get Applebloom, and her friends. You find yours. They need you AJ. Do your thing.”

“I-” she began, but she stopped herself.

Strange sounds and flashes had come from Canterlot the previous night. A declaration of war that was older than dirt had been made. Now, Ponyville had come under attack by strange magical ponies looking for the bearers of the Elements of Harmony.

Whatever the problem was, whatever was happening, Applejack realized that it had become her responsibility. Her responsibility, and the responsibility of the other bearers of the Elements. While she might want to take her family far away to someplace safe, she had a duty to do.

And when duty called, an Apple answered.

“You take Gran and the kids to Appleoosa, you hear? Don’t stay with cousin Braeburn, though. It’s too dangerous. See if the local Buffalo will take you in, they know him and me.”

Macintosh nodded. She knew he understood completely- not just that they needed to lay low, but why Applejack needed to leave. That she may never see him, or Applebloom, again.

“Good luck, AJ.”

Applejack nodded once more before turning away and sprinting off toward Ponyville. She couldn’t afford to stretch the goodbye out longer. She needed to find her friends.

Twilight Sparkle is the new ten, Celestia had said. Don’t worry, I think that you two will get along just fine. You share enough common interests

Luna thought back to her sister’s words as Nihilus’ spell threw her through a nearby house. The walls folded under her, then cracked and burst into bits. Chips and splinters of wood followed her as she landed back first on -of all things- a sofa. She shook the debris off of herself, noting how many pieces of wood were now lodged in her back.

She flexed her wings, and found them to still be functional. While it was true that most of a pegasus’ ability to fly came from magic, that magic was still centred in the wings. Damaging them too much would knock out one of Luna’s two major advantages, and stop her from being able to escape.

Escape was looking to be her only option. The spell Nihilus had used was not a complicated one. Luna’s opponent had simply slapped the her with enough telekinetic force to uproot a tree. As far as combat magic went, what Nihilus was doing was inefficient and bland. It makes sense, Luna thought, Twilight probably knew nothing about fighting with magic. Despite this, Luna was losing.

She had still not recovered from Terra’s attack the previous night. She was exhausted, her magical reserves already half-spent. Her wings and muscles ached whenever she moved, and casting spells required extra focus. Had she not been so exhausted, perhaps she would have been able to defeat the unicorn in single combat. As things were, she was barely scraping by.

Luna rolled off of the sofa and kicked it away from her, earthpony strength sending the it sliding across the room. Looking around, she noticed that there were actually several sofas in the room with her, as well as a wide assortment of what looked to be quills and ink. She was in a shop. She waited, and it wasn’t long before Nihilus came in after her.

The parasite that had taken Twilight Sparkle had not made any drastic changes to the unicorn’s form. She was still the same size as Luna remembered, and was now simply darker. Her coat seemed a darker purple, and her mane, energized with magical might, blazed blue-black.

Luna had not known Celestia’s student personally, but had seen the unicorn before. Nihilus still had the round muzzle and the small mouth of Twilight Sparkle, as well as her sharp eyebrows and straight lashes. But where Twilight’s eyes had seemed deep and focused, analytical even, the parasite’s flitted to and fro, wide with madness.

“You know,” the unicorn remarked casually as she stepped through the gaping hole in the shop wall. “I don’t seem to hate you nearly as much as I hate the others.” Several shingles fell, only to bounce off an invisible barrier over her head. “I could offer you the chance to surrender. This fight is really just a formality. Even if I couldn’t restrain you, you’re no match for the new prince. He’ll get you eventually.”

The parasite went on, “But I don’t think I will. You see, you’re really the only pony in Equestria who can give me a good fight. I have all of Twilight Sparkle’s power, and I am just itching-”

Luna attacked.

She threw herself across the room with all the force her wings and legs could muster. It was enough that she closed the distance between them in a fraction of a second. Nihilus was a unicorn, lacking the earthpony resilience that made Luna so hard to kill. Luna could take being thrown through walls all day, but one good hit would be all it took to bring the unicorn down.

But Nihilus was not going to let herself be beaten so easily. With a whip-like crack, the unicorn vanished, and Luna passed through hot air. Instinctively, she angled herself towards the ground and tucked into a roll as she left the shop. Another intense blast of force whipped at her mane as it barreled over her head. She heard another building break behind her.

She stopped and spun in place, finding herself back in the town square. It was not as packed as it had been moments ago, but there were still small groups of ponies fleeing from Terra’s brutes. Nihilus stood perhaps twenty paces away from her, mane blazing.

Luna wasted no time. She tapped her unicorn magic, grabbing the shards of wood leftover from the broken quill and sofa store and threw them at her adversary.

Nihilus’ horn glowed, and the shards of wood broke harmlessly against her chest and face. Tiny splinters shattered against her open eyes.

That’s... war magic, Luna thought, completely taken aback. I don’t even know that spell!

“You think I came here completely unprepared?” The parasite smirked. “I have a number of texts detailing how to cause harm to other ponies. The first spell I learned was, naturally, the one that made me near invincible. The second was an interesting bit of mind magic designed to control free will itself.”

She learned two spells in less than a day, Luna thought numbly. Spells unicorns talented with magic might spend months working to perfect.

Twilight Sparkle is the new ten, her sister had said.

She was loathe to admit it, but she couldn’t win. While Luna had enough magic to make even a powerful unicorn envious, her opponent outclassed her by an order of magnitude.

Luna was a world-class flyer, but Nihilus had even more mobility because of her uncanny ability to teleport. Luna had enough latent earthpony magic to make her almost unkillable, but Nihilus had the spell for unbreakable skin. Despite decades of experience of war, Luna was going to lose to the parasite.

Luna remembered a very similar battle she had fought once, against a powerful unicorn named Astor Coruscare. She had won then, but she had also been able to cast a blade. That magic was lost to her.

She decided that she couldn’t afford to lose. She had to buy time, at least, enough to make sure the bearers were safe. She had to survive, and help them fulfill their purpose.

What was it you were always so fond of saying, sister? She thought to herself.

Nihilus narrowed her eyes and pawed at the ground. Her horn glowed as she prepared another attack. Her mouth curved into a wicked smile.

Time to make the best of a bad situation. Why is it you get to be the martyr and I get left with all the work?

Rarity had an appreciation for beauty, and it was truly a beautiful morning. Shafts of sunlight broke through the tree branches, bathing her in a glow that made her dazzling white coat shine. It had been sunny all morning, despite the fact that Rainbow Dash still hadn’t cleared the few clouds that had formed. Rarity was waiting on the ground as Fluttershy addressed the occupants of a nearby oak tree.

“It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.” Rarity watched as Fluttershy gently rose through the air until she was level with the oak’s higher branches. The birds in the tree scattered as she approached, multicolored blurs of feathers shooting off in different directions.

The yellow pegasus frowned slightly, but did not otherwise express any frustration. This was not the first time the animals had run away from her that morning.

They were in a lightly wooded grove that was perhaps a five minute walk from the Carousel Boutique where Rarity was supposed to be making cloaks for the Canterlot aristocracy. Though I wonder if they’ll be worrying about their cloaks now, Rarity thought, reflecting once again on the previous night’s events.

Fluttershy descended softly to the ground before her with her characteristic natural grace. The pegasus gave a resigned sigh. “I guess they’re all just agitated from all the loud noises last night. They didn’t even act this scared during the trouble with the dragon.” Another sigh. “I suppose I’ll just have to wait for them to calm down.”

Over the course of the morning Fluttershy had approached more types of birds and rodents than Rarity could name. Every single one of them had fled when she got close. The woodland creatures would seldom run from anypony, let alone Fluttershy. It was curious behaviour indeed.

“Well, if you’re done-” Rarity made a sweeping motion to indicate the grove around them “-checking in, I ought to get back to the boutique. Technically we aren’t open this early in the day, but I do have so much to do I’d like to get a head start.”

Fluttershy’s eyes widened. “Oh, I didn’t mean to keep you Rarity! I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you to come with me...”

Rarity brought a hoof to her mouth and gasped. “Oh my dear, that isn’t what I meant at all! You know how much I love spending time with you!” she said even as she began leading them back toward the boutique. In truth, her mind had never left the shop. She had spent their whole outing debating whether or not she wanted emeralds or green sapphires inlaid at the clasp.

She didn’t have enough of either gem to outfit the entire line, of course. But she could always borrow Spike and fetch more once he and Twilight returned from Canterlot. The real problem with the cloaks now was the trim. It really couldn’t be any color but green if she wanted to avoid her cloaks seeming garish. That was if she decided on a trim at all, in which case she would have to blind-stitch the hem, which meant the collar would need to be-

Rarity’s train of thought was rudely interrupted by a loud crack. She frowned and looked about, trying to determine the source of the noise. “You don’t suppose that came from Ponyville, do you?” she asked, trying to hide her worry. She looked around for Fluttershy.

Two eyes looked out at her from a nearby bush.

The brush parted slightly as the pegasus’ pink maned head slowly poked out and looked around. It was followed shortly afterward by the rest of her body. Rarity gave her a flat look.

“Um... sorry.”

“Whatever it was I suppose we’ll find out when we get to town. What was it you were saying?”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

“Oh,” Rarity remarked. Had she really been paying that little attention? “So sorry dear, it seems I just can’t stay focused today.”

It was at that moment that a purple pony came galloping at them full tilt through the woods, eyes wild. “Run!” she screamed through labored breathing. Rarity and Fluttershy both simply stared. “Run!” the wild-eyed mare urged again as she got closer. She suddenly stopped and regarded them with a look of pure terror. “Oh no,” she said, shaking her head and backing away. She looked as though she was seeing a pair of ghosts. “You’re them.”

Rarity didn’t know how to react. Fluttershy spoke first.

“Shhhhhh,” the pegasus said softly as she approached the mare. “Just calm down and tell us what’s the matter. I’m sure we can help, whatever it is.”

“No... no...” The mare continued to back away. “They’re here for you. They’re going tocatchyou! There’s one following me!” She quickly stole a glance behind her. “You have to run, but I can’t be near you. I’m sorry,” the pony turned to run-

And stopped dead as a thickly built black colt with an electric green mane stepped into view. He began to move towards her, but stopped as he saw Rarity and Fluttershy.

The mare curled up into a ball on the ground. “It’s them,” she muttered quietly. “It’s them, you don’t need me... please, you don’t need me... don’t hurt me...”

The colt approached them and examined them for a moment with his pure green eyes. They’re here to catch you, the mare had said. The black colt’s eyes narrowed.

For the second time in the space of a day, Rarity heard the voice of her father:

An earthpony strikes low, and forward. They can kill you or I in one blow. It is imperative that you remain outside of their reach.

The colt took a step forward. Rarity took a step back.

Always engage one with a weapon, and remember that strong earthponies can take a dozen times the punishment you or I can.

The colt lunged. Rarity sprung backwards, panicking. He’s attacking me, she thought. He’s actually attacking me!

She thought of the chest of diamonds she had under her bed. No, She thought, I am not his daughter. We are not his daughters.

The colt began to circle her. She made sure to keep him at a distance. Fluttershy was nowhere to be seen.

I’ll just... negotiate with him. Yes, that’s right, I’ll disarm him with my natural charm and poise. Or frighten him away with a bout of good old fashioned whining, like I did those other ruffians...

She cleared her throat. “Ehem, yes. I’m sure there’s been some misunderstanding, good sir,” she called out. The dark pony tilted its head. “Why don’t we just conduct ourselves like gentleponies and have a nice little chat about whatever it is I’ve done to offend you.” The pony pawed at the ground. “Er... at a distance?” Rarity added meakly.

He charged. Rarity didn’t jump out of the way, or defend herself. She simply stood, frozen with fear.

For a moment, she was a filly again. “But I don’t want to practice! Cinnamon Swirl’s costume party is today!”

The colt collided with her, throwing her onto her side. He rolled on top of her, pinning her. He had to be twice her weight.

There were tears running down her face as she screamed at him. “I spent hours making my costume! It was going to be the most beautiful and best costume of any pony there!” It was the first time she had ever yelled at her father. The first time she had ever refused to practice.

She felt the colt shift, moving her onto her back. His front leg pressed down onto her neck, choking her. Her mane was trapped under his other front leg, and as he shifted it pulled taught, tearing at her scalp.

She should have stopped when he remained quiet. She didn’t. “Practice is stupid! I don’t CARE about having a weapon! I want FRIENDS! I want a cutie mark! And when I get one, It isn’t going to look like yours!”

She was going to die, and she was only realizing it now. Why hadn’t she been able to get out of the way? The edges of her vision began to turn red, and everything lost focus except for the two green eyes staring down at her. She could only hear her heartbeat. Her head felt as though it was going to explode.

“I don’t want to be like YOU!” Her father had regarded her for a moment, expressionless. Then he grabbed one of the metal shards they used for training and slapped his daughter across the face, drawing blood.

Rarity’s world began to spin, and she closed her eyes.

“I will not tolerate whining,” he had said. “And you will not cower and sob. The strong do what they want, my Rarity, and you are a weak little child. I will make you strong, though, and then you can go to all the parties you like. Now pick up the shards.”

Even at such a young age, Rarity had been a perfectionist. She had made a good student.

She couldn’t even feel the weight on her neck or the pounding in her head anymore. She wondered if her senses had gone numb or if she had actually already died. She realized she had been breathing for quite some time. Dead, then.

“Um... Rarity? You can get up now. I got rid of the bad pony almost a minute ago.”

The unicorn opened her eyes to find herself still in the clearing, her neck throbbing where the earthpony had tried to strangle her. “I’m alive,” she managed hoarsely, “He’s gone.”

“It was incredible.” The purple pony from before stood next to a noticeably shaken Fluttershy. “She just... looked at it, right in the eye, and it stopped. Then it just... vanished... like it had never been here in the first place.”

Fluttershy was clearly distraught. “I-I-I just tried to tell him to go away... to leave us alone. I didn’t mean to,” she gulped. “Kill him,” she finished in a whisper.

Rarity’s mind was still reeling from the attempt on her life.

The metal shards clattered uselessly against the walls. “In battle we must kill our enemies without hesitation. If you cannot attack your father properly in practice, how can I expect you to do this?”

“I-”

“Try to kill me, girl! I know you want to!”

Rarity had to focus on the present. “You say it just vanished?” she asked the purple pony.

“Yes... like it was made of smoke.”

Rarity nodded. “Well then it was simply a conjuration, my dear! It wasn’t even alive to begin with!” She had no idea whether or not that was true, but it was what Fluttershy needed to hear. Indeed, the pegasus visibly relaxed at her words. “Thank you, Fluttershy. You saved my life.”

“Now,” she began, turning toward the purple mare. “I need you to tell me everything, as quickly as you can. Her throat was badly damaged, and the words came out hard. This is probably going to leave a nasty bruise.

The mare looked from Rarity to Fluttershy, then sat. “She came into town, with so many of those black ponies. I knew something was wrong, everypony did. She told everypony that the princess was dead.”

“Who came into town?” Rarity demanded. “Which princess?”

“C-C-Celestia. She said that Celestia was dead. That we had a king and queen now. I don’t r-remember their names. But she also said there was a prince now, and I remember his name was Empyrean. Then she said your name, and yours,” the purple pony nodded to Fluttershy. “She told us you were rebels. And then- then those things she had with her started hurting ponies. They were looking for you and your friends.”

It was too much information. Rarity could process it later. Right now only one thing was important.

“Who gave them the orders?”

The purple mare looked away as she spoke, “It wasn’t her, it was like she was different somehow.”

“Who is trying to hurt me?!”

The purple pony looked up, “Your friend,” she said softly. “The librarian. T-T-Twilight.”

Silence filled the grove.

“Oh, no,” Fluttershy said softly, “that has to be a mistake. Twilight isn’t... she wouldn’t...” Rarity heard her friend let out a heart-wrenching sob. “What’s going on?”

But Fluttershy would have to wait, “Did any of the black ponies head towards Sweet Apple Acres?” she asked the purple pony in a level tone.

The mare was obviously still in shock, and her answer came delayed. Rarity realized that she must look like a savage, covered in dirt with her mane in disarray. “She-” the purple mare looked up at Rarity with fear. “She sent a group of them there specifically. T-T-To get Applejack.”

“Fluttershy.” The yellow pegasus looked up, eyes studded with tears. “Do you remember where we go to pick trilliums?”

The pegasus nodded.

“Wait for me there. Stay away from ponyville, and do not go back to your cottage.” Rarity turned away, toward Ponyville. “Everything will be alright.” She didn’t give the pegasus time to answer. She broke into a run.

Rarity was not an athletic pony. She preferred to leave unsavory physical pasttimes to ponies like Applejack and Rainbow Dash. But Ponyville was only moments away, and she had hardly broken a sweat by the time she cleared the trees.

She hoped that Fluttershy would do as she was told. The pegasus had obviously also been in some amount of shock before Rarity left them, but it was understandable. Rarity doubted that she was fit to make decisions in her current state, either. She was, after all, charging headfirst into Ponyville nonetheless- a place apparently filled with strange ponies who were trying to capture her.

Sweet Apple Acres was not her destination. No, first she needed to go to the Carousel Boutique. Then she would go to the Acres, and warn Applejack, and make sure Sweetie Belle was safe. Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash would have to make do on their own.

Rarity cleared the trees and looked out at Ponyville, and she felt like she was back in the grove, being strangled.

“I am proud of the progress you have made, daughter. Most unicorns your age would struggle to lift even one shard. Yet today we have shown that when the correct pressure is applied to the right places, you are capable of lifting four.” Rarity tasted blood in her mouth. She could hardly stand. “Yes, you are a precocious little filly. One day you will make me proud.”

Ponyville was in chaos. Ponies were being assaulted in the streets by the strange black earthponies. Not a window in sight was intact, their glass littering the roads and twinkling in the morning sun. Several buildings had collapsed entirely.

One of them was Rarity’s home.

The Carousel Boutique was a shattered heap of painted wood and cloth. What had once been a top-tier fashion emporium, a temple of tasteful dress and impeccable style, was simply reduced to nothing. All of her work, all of her possessions, were gone. A small part of her realized that she now had no products to treat her mane- which, at the moment, was a dirty mess.

It was too much for her to handle. She fell to the ground, shaking, as she looked at the ruins of her livelihood. Princess Celestia was dead. By now Pinkie Pie was probably dead too, and Applejack would follow soon afterward. Rainbow Dash would easily be able to escape, but Twilight was either still missing or trying to kill them. And Sweetie Belle, Sweetie Belle would-

No, Rarity thought adamantly. Rarity would get to Sweetie Belle in time, and the filly would be fine. Rarity might not have a roof to put over her sister’s head anymore, but she would never, ever stop being a big sister. She would give Sweetie Belle everything she had. Even if it cost Rarity everything that she had. Even if it cost her her own identity.

She would be his daughter, just for today.

“How dare you!” she said to the colts ravaging ponyville, all of whom were too far away to actually hear her. Rarity knew what to do.

She ran full tilt past the Carousel Boutique, and focused, her horn aglow with magic.

There were two of the strange colts sifting through the ruins of the Boutique, and each of them turned its attention to her as she approached. When she got close enough, one of them lunged at her.

She rolled out of the way of its lunge, putting it between herself and the ruins of the Boutique. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the second creature preparing to lunge.

She released her magic, letting it take the form of a gem finding spell, as she rolled. It was a specific form of the spell, a certain frequency of magic designed only to detect diamonds of a certain kind. Fourteen clustered points of light appeared in her mind.

As she came out of her roll, she pulled on all of them.

Rarity was a talented unicorn. Not just in the areas of taste, class, design, common sense, grooming, sewing, artistic vision, and social graces, but in magic as well. While she could never rival the ability of a magically talented unicorn like Twilight, she still possessed a level of focus and skill that many unicorns would envy. Indeed, she could manipulate a dozen objects at once while she carried a conversation and operated a sewing machine.

But focus only went so far, and a unicorn’s magic was designed to aid their special talent. A pony could only move something so heavy, and only so quickly. And even that would quickly become exhausting. Rarity was no exception.

Unless the object in question was, say, a gem.

As Rarity came out of her roll and regained her footing, fourteen enchanted diamonds tore their way from the ruins of the Carousel Boutique. They punched through cloth, wood, and the unlucky black construct that stood between the gems and their mistress. As Rarity was showered with a discorporeal black mist, the gems aligned in front of her, their various irregularities interlocking perfectly.

The second pony had already lunged.

It was met in midair by a length of the hardest, sharpest material known to ponykind about as long as Rarity’s tail. The irregular diamonds had tessellated into a perfectly straight edge, the fractures that joined them refracting light into a myriad of colors that sparkled through the air as Rarity cleaved her enemy in two. She was rewarded with another shower of silky darkness.

She brought the blade to rest floating in front of her, parallel to the ground, and whipped around to face the rest of ponyville.

Four more dark ponies were in the nearest street, some of them kicking townsponies who were on the ground. None of them paid her any heed.

She split her blade along its fractures and sent four tiny, brilliant spikes outward. When they returned, the street was clear, and Rarity was already making her way toward Sweet Apple Acres.

She was skirting past the town square when none other than Princess Luna came flying through one of the town hall’s windows and landed not twenty feet away from her. The princess was covered in scrapes, and an oblong metal rod was jutting out of her shoulder.

The glass from the window did not fall to the ground, however. It stayed frozen in the air until the alicorn righted herself on the ground. Then, it plunged through the broken window frame, treating the room inside to a storm of tiny shards of glass.

The princess took in her surroundings with a wide sweep of her head, noting Rarity. Her gaze turned, whipping back and forth between the broken window, the surrounding rooftops, and the empty streets. Then she spoke:

“Rarity?”

Rarity was aghast. She had completely forgotten her manners. “Princess? You know my name! Ah!” She almost squealed as she came out of a deep bow.

The princess was breathing heavily as she spoke. Her eyes continued to scan their surroundings. “Thou must runneth. Find thy friends and get out of here, now!”

Rarity had forgotten her task when she spotted the princess. She remembered what she needed to do, but now she wasn’t so certain. “But... you’re hurt!” She could not leave what was possibly Equestria’s only remaining leader to bleed out in the town square.

The princess spat out a mouthful of blood. “I’ll be fine. Now I am giving you an order, as your princess. Run. Save thyself, before she-”

Just then, another length of steel spun through the air with incredible speed, striking Luna on the back of her head. There was a loud crack and the princess was thrown forward, face first, into the dirt. She didn’t get up.

A smooth laughter filled the square. Rarity looked around, searching for the sound’s origin. She found it in the window Luna had broken earlier. It was Twilight.

Or so she seemed to be at first glance. She had the same face, but her coat was a deep aubergine, her mane a writhing mass of black energy tinged at the edges with-

Azure? No, it was a darker shade than azure, like a navy blue, but a bit more vibrant. Yes, definitely too much hue to be as mundane a shade as navy blue, perhaps ultramarine-

“Rarity.”

The mare spoke her name as a statement filled with loathing, and Rarity was brought out of her thoughts and reminded of the fact that she was in mortal peril. She looked up and saw the new pony bringing herself gently to the ground- an odd feat, considering the broken window had been on the second story.

The mare’s eyes radiated a hatred that Rarity knew Twilight Sparkle to be incapable of. Whoever this was, it wasn’t her friend. The air around her crackled with energy as her horn began to glow. “My, my,” the mare said. “Is that a blade you have there?” The other unicorn chuckled. “What a completely irrelevant surprise.” The aubergine unicorn cast a spell.

Immediately Rarity was hit by a wave of force that knocked her breath away. She curled up as tightly as she could as she was thrown backwards, tumbling through the square until she struck a wall. A splitting pain filled her head, and her legs trembled as she failed to stand. Somewhere during the throw, she had lost her hold on her blade diamonds. She tasted blood.

A voice sounded, but Rarity couldn’t tell from where. “Seems our princess is down and out. Hopefully I didn’t hit her too hard, I’m supposed to keep her alive, you see. You, on the other hand...” Rarity was suddenly thrown up and against the wall, her legs spread out around her. She could barely make out the form of the other unicorn in front of her, her vision was so blurry.

“I’m sure you think I’m going to kill you, and I could, but I see you now, here, like this, and you’re just so pretty!”

Rarity’s senses began to return to her. What was the other pony talking about?

“Even with your mane all trashy, and that unseemly bruise on your neck. Even all covered in blood and dirt. You’re just so precious, and of course you know it. But that isn’t ever good enough for you, is it?” The unicorn leaned in to whisper in her ear. “You have to look perfect.”

Rarity knew that she needed to escape, somehow, but the magic that held her was impossibly strong. She couldn’t even move a single leg.

Rarity could feel the other pony’s breath in her ear. “No, Rarity, I’m not going to kill you. You’re going to kill yourself, eventually. And you’re going to do it because I tell you to.”

Rarity had to escape, find her sister, but she couldn’t move, and she couldn’t focus enough to call her blade through all the pain...

The other unicorn stepped back and regarded Rarity, crucified against a wall, with glee. “No, Rarity, I’m not going to kill you.” Her horn glowed, and a point of twisting darkness appeared in front of Rarity’s face. Rarity tried to draw away from the writhing ball of blackness. The other pony grinned. “I’m going to give you a makeover!”

Rarity whimpered as the point of darkness drew closer.

Luna barreled into the other pony, and the point of darkness vanished as Rarity felt herself fall away from the wall. The other unicorn was not so easily had, however, and moments after Luna struck her she simply vanished, reappearing in the centre of the square.

Luna turned to Rarity. Her head was slightly misshapen, and a metal rod still stuck out of her shoulder. She was covered in blood.

“As soon as I give thou a chance,” Luna said quietly enough that only Rarity could hear. “Run.” The alicorn’s horn glowed, and the metal protruding from her shoulder wrenched itself free with a sickening squelch and hung in the air beside her. “Understand?”

Rarity willfully stopped her back legs from shaking with fear. What am I doing here, she thought, calling her blade to herself once more.

She tightened the magical grip she had on her diamond blade, and nodded slightly in answer to her princess.

Their adversary attacked.

The morning air was crisp and warm, and a light breeze ruffled the nameless pony’s sleek black feathers. The sun shone down on ponyville, bright and cheerful, ignorant of the destruction and violence consuming the town. The nameless pegasus was surrounded by Nihilus's puppets. There were four of them forming a ring around her, and two of them were attempting to break down the door to Sugarcube Corner.

Just don’t think, she thought firmly, just don’t think of anything and it won’t hurt you. The madness will just go away.

The ponies she had brought with her were bucking the door to the shop, but to no avail. It had obviously been barred from the other side. They were making little progress breaking it down, the useless brutes. The black colts were nothing. They were scum, worth less even than her. And she didn’t even have a name.

But she had had a name last night. She tried to remember...

Don’t think, she reminded herself, just do, and it will go away.

She called it the Insanity. It was in her, through her, making sure she didn’t do anything bad. Anything Nihilus wouldn’t want her to do. It was always with her, dimming her vision at the edges, making her skin itch. It writhed and twisted in her belly, making her feel as though she had swallowed an eel. It was always with her, because she was always resisting.

A part of her didn’t want to be cruel to others. She didn’t want to be merciless and hateful. She didn’t want to do what Nihilus told her to. It was there, a remnant of her former self, to struggle against everything the Insanity wanted her to do.

And because a part of her was always resisting, the Insanity was always with her, muddling her thoughts.

And the more she resisted, the harder the Insanity would grip her. It would make her forget herself, forget where she was. It would squeeze her insides and crawl under her skin and it would become a thousand insects buzzing around in her brain. She could try to be the other pony all she wanted, but the Insanity would take over and follow Nihilus’ orders regardless.

Once it had, however, it would recede again. The nameless pegasus would be cruel, and merciless, and then she would be her old self again. And when she was her old self, she resisted. And when she resisted, the Insanity took her, used her, then let go, and she was her old self again...

She hadn’t slept at all the previous night. It had taken her hours of mental torture, of teeter-tottering between her old self and the Insanity before she realized how to keep the two balanced. She simply tried not to think, and so she hung between the malicious spell and her old psyche. She couldn’t want to be cruel, and merciless, and all the other things Nihilus had said, not yet. But if she simply didn’t think, It was almost like the Insanity was gone.

Almost.

The door was cracked and splintered now, and slowly being pressed inwards. The vermin were making progress. On the other side of the door was Sugarcube Corner, and-

Don’t think, the nameless pegasus thought sharply to herself, Not about that.

Instead she tried to come up with a name for herself while she waited. Her mistress had only forbidden her from using her old one; there was no reason she couldn’t come up with new one for herself. A new name would be the perfect thing to help her forget her old self. Help her to be cruel, and dispassionate...

She was a glossy black mare now, with a deep grey mane, the color of a storm cloud. Storm Cloud? No, she didn’t want to be a cloud. Dark Dash? The buzzing in her ears grew louder, and she immediately discarded the idea. Too similar to her name. Blackblitz? It had a certain ring to it, and she was fast. Blackstorm? Storms were cool. She decided she needed more words for the color black. Rarity had a fancy word for every shade imaginable. The unicorn had once gone through sixty with a handful of Rainbow Dash’s mane alone-

Her stomach knotted and her legs grew weak. The buzzing in her head grew louder, and her vision tunneled as the darkness closed in. Don’t think that name. she thought desperately. Don’t think about her, either. Don’t think about any of them, they’re all going to die. Don’t think...

The door burst, and the puppets charged into Sugarcube Corner. Blackblitz followed.

The interior of Sugarcube Corner was not as she had remembered it. The tables and chairs had all been piled against the door, except for one that was tipped on its side at the far end of the bakery. Evidently, somepony had known that Pinkie Pie was a target.

Blackblitz moved into the centre of the room as the puppets cleared the broken pieces of furniture from the entryway. She had to force herself not to remember anything about the room. Her old self was getting agitated.

Don’t think, just do. She had to remember why she was there.

“Dashie!” Despite the circumstances, Pinkie Pie’s voice had lost none of its energy.

Dash turned, and the Insanity proceeded to choke her out.

You will no longer answer to that name, Nihilus’ voice echoed in her head. You will be cruel to others. Her stomach knotted and her skin began to crawl.

The sight of Pinkie had awakened a new resistance in Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash, she thought to herself. Blackblitz is a stupid name. The darkness at the edges of her vision began to creep inward, until all she could see was Pinkie Pie, standing on the staircase that led up to her room. She couldn’t fight the Insanity forever, but she wouldn’t need to.

“Pinkie,” she managed to choke out. “Run,” she gritted her teeth and collapsed to the floor as blackness consumed her vision. The Insanity took hold-

And suddenly she had crossed the distance between them with a powerful sweep of her wings. She slapped the pink mare across the face with a front hoof.

The Insanity immediately gave a little, and the hoof was jerked backwards away from Pinkie Pie as Rainbow Dash realized what she was doing.

She was a strong pony. Not as strong as an earthpony focusing their innate magical talent, but strong enough to hoof-wrassle even the biggest pegasus and come out on top. Pinkie’s head snapped to the side. She turned back to the nameless pegasus.

“Dash?” she asked softly.

Dash knew that the puppets were going to try to help her. She had only moments before the Insanity took her again....

“Don’t touch her!” she called out to the black ponies that had followed her inside. She pumped her wings as her vision darkened once more to throw herself backwards off of the staircase.

You will beat Pinkamena Diane Pie to within an inch of her life. She used her wings to spin midair, and aimed a back leg at Pinkie’s face.

The party pony had the sense to dodge this time, tilting her head out of the way with a surprising speed. While Dash was still turning in the air, she threw herself into a sideways aerial somersault, wrapping her two back legs around the leg Dash had used to kick her. Pinkie used the grab to twist Dash in front of her as continued through the air, spinning over the stairway banister and landing on the floor of Sugarcube Corner. Dash was face down, Pinkie holding her pinned with whatever strange leg grab she was using.

“Wooooooooo-eeeee!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed. The vermin around them were completely motionless, following the orders the pegasus had given when she was Rainbow Dash. “Somepony is having a bad day!” She released Dash’s leg, and the pegasus threw her front legs at the pink pony’s face again.

Pinkie Pie threw both punches aside with her own front legs, then shifted forward, pinning the pegasus’ front legs to the floor. Her face was inches away from Dash’s. She smiled.

“But I know just the thing to cheer you up and get you well!” She let go of Dash’s front legs and stood. “First,” Pinkie Pie whispered so loudly that everypony in the room could hear her. “You should stop hanging around with these guys. They look like Grumpy McGrumperpusses, if you know what I mean. And the look is wearing off on you.” She gave a conspicuous wink and nudged the pegasus “Eh, Dashie?”.

The pegasus had hardly heard her through the buzzing that filled her ears. “That’s not my name!” she shouted. “My name is Darkbolt, or-” what had she decided on earlier? It was so hard to remember... “Blackblitz, or Stormcloud...”

She was stalling. The Insanity needed her to do one thing, just this one thing, and then she could be any name she wanted.

“Take her,” the dark pegasus ordered. Her vermin moved toward the pink pony.

She watched as the expression on Pinkie Pie’s face turned slack. Saw the bright earthpony turn to her, mouth open, and raise her eyebrows. The look in her eyes became one of understanding- she was finally taking things seriously, finally realizing that Darkbolt was trying to kill her. Pinkie Pie’s lower lip quivered as the six vermin closed in around her.

“What’s wrong with you, Dashie?” She didn’t sound angry.

Pinkamena Diane Pie. Dash got to her feet as the first two of her vermin reached the pink pony, one of them aimed a kick at her chest with both its back legs. The other struck out with a front-hoof punch.

Pinkie Pie flipped onto her back and swept a front leg around, striking the vermin’s legs mid-kick, making it lose its balance and fell on its belly. The second vermin’s punch sailed over her head, and she grabbed the offending limb between her two back legs. With a powerful twist of her thighs, she threw the vermin to the ground and brought herself to rest on top of him.

Another vermin tried to tackle the pink pony. Pinkie Pie simply straightened her legs and bounced, clearing the vermin as he landed atop his downed comrade. She landed next to the nameless pegasus.

“Come with me, Dashie,” she said, ducking to avoid another punch and striking out with her back legs to trip the offending vermin. “We’ll find Twilight. She’ll know what to do!” She flicked her tail into the face of an approaching vermin, causing him to sneeze. “Afterwards when you’re all better, we can throw a party!” She turned and threw a handful of confetti into the face of another vermin. It stopped, momentarily confused.

Dash attacked.

She landed on Pinkie’s back, wrapping two legs around her shoulders to squeeze at Pinkie’s neck. She beat her wings downward, slamming Pinkie headfirst into the floor. The earthpony struggled, but was dazed and had no leverage. She began to jerk spasmodically.

The nameless pegasus was doing her job well, and the Insanity receded...

“No!” Dash screamed. She loosened her grip, and tried to roll off of the earthpony, and ended up beside her on the floor, back to the door. She wasn’t going to let herself choke Pinkie Pie.

Pinkie Pie let out a squeak.

Thump!

The Insanity tightened, and so did her grip. She needed to knock Pinkie Pie unconscious, and then everything would be so easy.

Thump, Crash!

Pinkie Pie tried to speak out of the suffocating headlock, and failed. Once she was out, the buzzing would go away. the Insanity would leave her alone. She could pick a new name.

She felt the pink pony go limp with unconsciousness, and the Insanity receded momentarily...

Snap, Thump.

Too late, she saw the dark cloud of smoke at the corner of her field of vision. She turned, only to see an orange hoof hit her directly in the forehead.

Her vision swam, and she rolled over onto her back. She saw two more vermin disintegrate, and a stetson-wearing earthpony jumped over her with Pinkie Pie on her back. The room stopped spinning, and she felt herself blacking out.

A bad, bad part of the nameless pony cheered, but she was already unconscious before the Insanity could reprimand it.

Crack!

Nihilus’ teleport brought her to a hallway just inside the town hall. The smell of slightly singed wood filled her nostrils as the energy from her spell scorched the floor. The repercussions of her battle with Luna had knocked the pictures lining the hallway from the wall, and she could see a gaping hole at the end of the hall where one of her attacks had struck earlier.

Before her teleport, she had been standing just outside the town hall. She hadn’t been far from where she was now, just outside the building. Nihilus watched as, less than second after she entered the building, a dozen glittering gems punched through the wall behind her former position. Rarity was not nearly as inept as she had thought, and seemed to have no issue with trying to kill her.

“I guess I really did kill her sister.” Nihilus thought to her passenger with glee.

“You’re evil!” was Twilight’s response. “How can anypony be so cruel?”

Nihilus tapped her magic once more and flung herself through space, this time focusing on a point in the square outside. There was a sharp crack and she found herself facing Rarity and the princess. They had their backs to her. With Rarity’s gems all buried in the town hall’s walls, the unicorn was completely defenseless. Unlike Princess Luna, who had gratuitous amounts of earthpony magic to keep her alive, Rarity would go down with only one good hit.

“I’m evil, am I?” she replied in a dry voice. “You’re just catching on to that one now?”

She threw a wave of force at the white unicorn. It was a basic spell, one poorly suited for fighting, but Twilight had not known any war magic whatsoever. What Twilight did have was more raw magical talent than any other unicorn in Equestrian history. With Nihilus in control, she could hold her own against a young alicorn. Even her basic spells packed as much punch as a locomotive.

Luna turned just in time to see Nihilus unleash her spell. The princess released a spell of her own, causing an invisible barrier of force to spring up between Nihilus and Rarity. While Luna wasn’t strong enough to stop her spell with force alone, she didn’t need to. Her barrier angled the wave of concussive force downward, causing it to harmlessly kick up a large amount of dirt.

The moon princess’s spell had the additional effect of obscuring them for several moments while earth rained down on the square. Several pieces of splintered wood and stones were thrown at her through the cloud of dirt, but Nihilus let them bounce harmlessly off of her magically hardened skin. She still felt the impacts, but her spell made it almost impossible for anything to pierce her flesh.

The dirt cleared, revealing Rarity, but no Luna. In addition to having her mane in a complete state of disarray and a nasty bruise along her neck, the unicorn was now covered in earth. She gave Nihilus a murderous look.

“Dirt?!” she screeched,“You’ll pay for this, you wicked mare! You aren’t aubergine, you’re just a muddy maroon! You look like a rotten plum!”

Nihilus looked down at her dark, reddish-purple coat. She had actually thought it was quite striking. What was wrong with plums? Plums were delicious.

She almost missed the cluster of razor sharp gems speeding towards her. Her magical skin wasn’t that strong. She teleported to the first place she could think of- back in the hallway in the town hall.

She was struck immediately in the chest by a pinpoint of force so powerful it sent her reeling backwards down the hallway. Luna had been waiting for her. She tried to gain footing as she skidded across the floor, but her hooves slid off the hallway floor as though it were made of ice. Luna had somehow turned it into a frictionless surface, preventing Nihilus from gaining her bearings.

She’s good, Nihilus thought.

She reacted by immediately throwing a magical barrier between her and Luna. Luna’s next spell- a ball of silvery light- struck the barrier and exploded into a shower of sparks. The shock of the spell striking the barrier still sent Nihilus spinning down the frictionless hallway once again.

She reached outward, desperately trying to cling to something to stop her slide, and her hoof found the hole in the wall she had made earlier. She clung to it, stopping her movement, and rolled out onto the patio surrounding the town hall. She shot to her feet.

“Left!” her instincts seemed to scream.

She turned her head sharply, and was brought face to face with the hole in the wall she had just exited. It was empty. She turned to her right too late to see Rarity’s glimmering blade soaring towards her face. She ducked, but wasn’t fast enough. The blade opened her face from the end of her muzzle to just below her eye before burying itself into the wall behind her.

Her instincts hadn’t warned her. It had been Twilight. She was trying to get them both killed.

She threw a wave of force toward Rarity, but before her spell was even loosed, Luna had flown in low and grabbed the unicorn, carrying her target away.

“Get back here!” Nihilus screamed, blinking blood out her eye. She had to get Rarity. She had to get them all, make them suffer...

“I think I know why you hate them so much,” Twilight said to her quietly.

“Shut up, you little foal. You could have killed us.” Nihilus had no way of sealing the wound on her face. It was going to scar.

“That’s the plan, kiddo. You think I wouldn’t die for them?”

Nihilus had no response. Instead she set out for the doctor’s office.

It had been abandoned in the chaos, and Nihilus found a needle and gut with which to crudely stitched up her face while she waited. It was perhaps a half hour before her earthpony servants found her waiting on the steps of the town hall, having thoroughly searched Ponyville.

Or at least, what servants she had left returned to her. Of her original forty-something earthponies, nineteen remained. What was worse, not one of Twilight’s friends had been caught. Nihilus stared in disbelief as two of Terra’s earthponies deposited the unconscious form of her pet at her feet. Nihilus made a mental note to punish the pegasus later.

Inside her head, Twilight cheered. Nihilus didn’t understand.

She had access to all of Twilight’s memories, knew everything the young unicorn did. While she was a separate consciousness, she was still very much Twilight Sparkle. And she knew Twilight’s friends.

None of them could fight. None of them had any special combat experience, no training whatsoever in the art of war. Indeed, Twilight had absolutely no knowledge when it came to weaponizing magic. They were simply a group of mares who happened to bear the Elements of Harmony. Nothing Twilight knew suggested that any of them would be able to fight off her minions, let alone all of them. Rainbow Dash was a black belt in whatever martial art they taught in Cloudsdale- yet somehow Pinkie Pie had knocked her unconscious and defeated half a dozen of Terra’s earthponies to boot. The pink earthpony was always full of surprises.

Nihilus had counted on Applejack being able to take care of herself- she was the strongest earthpony Twilight had known, and was likely able to take a hard beating. But to defeat eight other earthponies? The idea was absurd.

Fluttershy could always fly away if she was caught outdoors, so it made sense that she might be able to escape. The pegasus was usually outdoors, tending to all her little critters. Against a pegasus, her earthbound minions were woefully inadequate.

What Rarity had done, however, was beyond Nihilus’ ability to rationalize. She had obviously not been in the implosion that had probably killed Sweetie Belle, which accounted for her survival. But what about her blade? The fashion designer somehow knew the most deadly and sophisticated war magic known to unicorns. It wasn’t a spell you could simply intuit- you had to actually forge the weapon beforehand.

The unicorn had not known any other spells with which to fight Nihilus. She actually couldn’t perform any other spells, on account of her special talent being gems, or fashion, or sewing, or whatever-it-was. But all unicorns could learn the spell to turn their special talent into a weapon, and apparently Rarity had. That simple fact went against everything Twilight had known about the unicorn.

Next time I fight that little minx she won’t have a princess to protect her, she resolved. We’ll see how long she lasts then.

Nihilus had told prince Empyrean that Twilight’s friends were responsible for defeating Nightmare Moon and Discord because they were some of the most powerful ponies in Equestria. She had said that they were Celestia’s specially trained elites, ponies used for precision attacks. Faced with their survival, the irony of her lie was not lost on her.

It was she who had the Elements of Harmony, of course. Titan, Terra, and Empyrean didn’t know of their existence yet, and the Tower of Harmony had been destroyed during Celestia’s fight with their king. Nihilus had retrieved them before travelling to Ponyville to corrupt Rainbow Dash. And once all of Twilight’s friends were hers, she would find a way to harvest them and use them herself.

Then she would dispose of the alicorn family, and be queen of Equestria. She was the only one capable of transferring an alicorn’s power; she had done so with Celestia to help Terra create a new son. If she could take a defeated alicorn’s magic and bestow it upon another alicorn, why not herself? The Elements of Harmony were the most powerful magic in Equestria, and once she had them she would be invincible.

Prince Empyrean thought that the resources he was lending to her were going to be used to prevent ponykind from rebelling against the new regime. And they were- for now. He thought that she needed to kill her targets because they were highly trained guerrillas capable of causing his government serious harm. In truth, they were the only reason he and his parents were still alive.

“It’s too bad you let them get away,” Twilight lamented sarcastically. “Now you’ll never get to rule Equestria.”

“Oh I’m not too worried,.” Nihilus replied. “You see, when I teleported I let Luna see the null-space where I’m keeping the elements. She knows I have them, and she knows that they’re the only way to save you. Your friends are going to come to me.”

Nihilus paused, however. How had Twilight known what she had been thinking? Nihilus couldn’t tell what Twilight was thinking, but could Twilight perhaps read her thoughts? It was a disturbing revelation.

“So you can’t read my mind,” the unicorn’s voice sounded cheerfully in Nihilus’ head. “But I can read yours. Good to know.”

Unfortunately, Nihilus had no way of harming her passenger consciousness. She decided to ignore the insolent mare for the time being, and instead sent for a quill, ink, and parchment. Her letter read:

Dear Prince Empyrean,

The operation in Ponyville has met mixed results. I succeeded in regards to one of our five targets, but the other four were prepared and escaped. They would not have, but I was hindered by your fiancee, Princess Luna, who also escaped. She has joined forces with the remaining four elites, no doubt intending to seed rebellion among the general populace.

While I search for them, I will continue to spread the message of your rule among Equestria’s towns and cities. The citizenry needs to be shown that we are not a force to be trifled with.

The constructs that Terra provided were inept and useless. While they may suffice against an average soldier, they sustained heavy losses against Celestia’s own. I will need more adequate forces, especially if I am to capture your bride-to-be.

These ponies are the only free link to Celestia left in the kingdom. Give me the resources I need and I will kill them, my prince. Then your rule will be absolute.

Your faithful student,

Nihilus Nix Naught

-

Chapter 4: “The Beginning”

Need to contact me for any reason? AestheticBrony@gmail.com

The Beginning

The Beginning

Night had fallen by the time Applejack and Pinkie Pie made their way into the trillium-filled clearing. Fluttershy had found them wandering far away from Ponyville, and had led them back to the glade where Rarity was now waiting. It was a beautiful place; moonlight filtered through ancient tree branches, patterning the tens of thousands of flowers with spots of luminescence.

Pinkie Pie had regained consciousness before Fluttershy had found them, and after insisting that she was alright, made most of the walk herself. She had been oddly silent on their way to the glade. Applejack hadn’t pressed her about it.

Rarity was already in the clearing, as expected. What Applejack had not expected, however, was the alicorn princess who sat beside her. Luna appeared serene and immaculate sitting under the moonlight. Rarity, by contrast, was teary eyed and covered in dirt. The unicorn ran to Applejack almost immediately.

Applejack knew why. “Mac’s got her,” she said before Rarity could get a word in.

Rarity’s reaction was to bury her head in Applejack’s mane and sob. “I just didn’t know what to do! There was nopony at Sweet Apple Acres and I thought what if... what if...”

Applejack nuzzled the unicorn. “She’s fine, Rarity. Mac’ll take her out to Appleoosa and they’ll hide with the Buffalo until everything is alright. Ah’m sure she’ll miss ya, but she’ll have her friends with her too.”

“But-” Rarity sniffed. “What if she thinks I left her? I should go-”

“-Ah know you want to go find ‘em,” Applejack cut her off. “But Sweetie Belle is a smart filly. She’ll understand.”

Rarity pulled away and contemplated this for a moment before giving her a hug. “Oh thank you, Applejack!” she cried out, her voice returning to its usual silvery lilt. “You have no idea how much I’ve been worrying! I insisted on returning to Sweet Apple Acres, but you can just imagine my reaction when there was nopony there! I assumed she was okay, but, I just had to be sure. I haven’t been able to think of anything else since we got here! I haven’t even bathed!”

The unicorn looked down at herself as she spoke. “Augh! I haven’t even bathed!” She began brushing dirt off of herself with her hooves. “I’m dirty! filthy!” She ran past Applejack, no doubt heading for a stream they had crossed on their way to the clearing.

Applejack sighed and trotted over to Pinkie Pie, who was sitting by herself in the grass, absent-mindedly picking apart a flower. The pony had spoken much less than usual on their day-long journey to the glade. Applejack had initially just assumed that she was exhausted- she had been strangled half to death when Applejack had found her- but now Pinkie was sitting apart from everypony else, which was unusual behaviour for Pinkie Pie. She noticed Pinkie’s hair was losing some of its typical poof, a bad sign.

“All right, sugarcube,” said Applejack, sitting beside the Pink pony, “what’s the matter?”

“Rainbow Dash,” Pinkie Pie said simply. Spoken without her usual energy, her high voice lost its cheerful squeak and sounded melancholy.

Applejack laid what she hoped was a comforting hoof on Pinkie Pie’s back. “That’s it?” she said. “Don’t worry about her, Pinkie. Dash can fly faster than any other pegasus in Equestria. Fluttershy could escape alright, Ah’m sure Dash is fine. She just doesn’t know where to find us, is all.”

“No, AJ, she isn’t ‘fine’. She tried to kill me,” Pinkie Pie said simply, pulling a petal off of the flower she held.

Applejack was dumbfounded. “What?”

Pinkie Pie looked up her, “You didn’t see her when you rescued me? She gave me this,” the pink pony gesture to the puffy bruise that had formed around her neck. Rarity and Pinkie had both gotten them from being strangled. Applejack hadn’t, but she supposed that she simply hadn’t been choked for as long as they. Pinkie Pie had actually lost consciousness.

“Yer confused, Pinkie. I knocked the pony that had you on the head. She was definitely a pegasus, and about Dash’s size, but that pony was black, just like all the others. Grey mane, too. About as not-Rainbow Dash lookin’ as a pony can be, in fact.”

“You what!?” Pinkie Pie suddenly grabbed Applejack and shook her. “Tell me you didn’t kill her!”

Applejack moved to push Pinkie away, but saw real fear in the pony’s eyes. She realized that Pinkie Pie truly believed that the pony who had tried to kill her was Rainbow Dash. Come to think of it, the pony did have Rainbow’s perpetually wind-ruffled mane and sleek form...

“Calm down, Pinkie! Ah just bopped her on the head and knocked her out is all. She should be fine. What makes you think it was Rainbow Dash anyway?”

“She was Rainbow Dash. She’s confused, or sick, and she doesn’t know what she’s doing.” Pinkie Pie’s voice no longer sounded melancholy as she began talking fast. “She told me to run and then she told all the others not to hurt me but then she hit me and I asked her what was wrong but she told them all to attack me and I stopped them but she jumped on my back and I couldn’t-get-her-off-and-I-thought-I-was-going-to-die!” The pink pony was now breathing heavily.

Applejack sat, stunned. “You sure it was Rainbow Dash?” She asked at length.

Pinkie nodded, “She didn’t want to use her own name, like, it hurt her when I said it. And she was herself for a little while, but then she just... lost it. And I tried to cheer her up because cheering ponies up is something I’m good at but it was like Rainbow Dash wasn’t even there anymore and-I-thought-that-maybe-if-I-just-kept-smiling-” Pinkie Pie stopped to take a deep breath, “-She’d let me throw her a party and everything would be okay.”

Applejack leaned in and nuzzled Pinkie Pie’s neck. “Look,” she began. “You remember when Discord made us all strange?”

Pinkie nodded.

“He messed with our heads. Made us do things we’d never do. Ah’m willing to bet this is just like that. Dash is probably under some spell.”

Pinkie Pie gave Applejack a flat look. “I figured that much out.”

“Well do you remember how it worked out for Discord?” Applejack waited.

The answer seemed to have an effect. The edges of her mane gained a little more volume and her eyes brightened. Applejack continued:

“Twilight made us remember how much our friendship is really worth, and wiped away his magic just like that. Ah reckon she can do the same thing again. She’s the most magical pony in all of Equestria. An’ Rainbow Dash is the strongest mare Ah know, and the Element of Loyalty to boot.”

“Speaking of which, Ah’m the element of honesty. And Ah’m telling you now, that I truly believe we are gunna find Twilight, and then we’re gunna find Rainbow Dash. Then we’ll find out whoever is behind all this mess and teach them a lesson!”

Pinkie Pie leapt to her feet. “And then I am going to throw the biggest party ever known to ponydom!” She began to bounce in circles, singing a song that she was likely making up on the spot.

Applejack smiled, realizing that she did believe what she had said. She let out a yawn, realized that she was exhausted, and looked forward to getting some sleep.

Sleep, however, would have to wait. Fluttershy was hovering in the air beside one of the many ancient trees that stood sentinel over the glade of small white flowers. As Applejack approached, the pegasus shushed her softly, gesturing to an owl sitting amongst the tree branches, back facing them.

Fluttershy said something so quietly Applejack couldn’t hear her. The owl didn’t hear, either.

She mumbled something again, this time barely audible. Applejack considered asking her to speak up, but remembered that she had been shushed.

“Um... excuse me, sir,” Applejack could barely hear the words. The owl turned suddenly, then flew away, startled.

Fluttershy didn’t even bother landing properly. She simply folded her wings and let herself fall to the ground in a heap. She began to cry.

“Fluttershy? Whats wrong?” The pegasus buried her head in her hooves and didn’t answer. Applejack moved to stand beside her and lowered herself to the ground. “Hey,” she said in the best soothing voice she could manage. “Talk to me.”

Fluttershy spoke between sobs, shaking. “H-h-how m-many of the d-dark ponies did you-” she swallowed. “G-g-get rid of?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” she asked.

Fluttershy wiped her eyes. “You’re right,” she said. “I’ll just leave you alone now...”

“Wait a minute!” Applejack did a quick mental recap of the morning events. “Uh, twelve or thirteen, depending on how ya look at it. Why?”

Fluttershy looked at her, clearly shocked. “I got one,” she said in her unusually soft voice. “And it was by accident, using the stare. And I almost let it kill Rarity first. And afterward I ran because Rarity told me to. She could’ve gotten hurt and I wouldn’t have been there to help.”

“Sounds to me like you saved Rarity’s life.”

“But any of you would have done it faster. She wouldn’t have gotten a big bruise around her neck.” Fluttershy sighed again. Applejack still didn’t understand why she was so upset.

“What’s this really about, Fluttershy?”

“I know I’m not good at flying, or fighting, or farming, and I can’t do magic, but that was okay because I always had my special place in the world. But now...” Fluttershy looked at Applejack, and she looked more terrified than the earthpony had ever seen her before- and Applejack was no stranger when it came to seeing Fluttershy afraid.

“I can’t talk to them anymore, Applejack!” There were fresh tears in her eyes. “The animals act like I’m some kind of monster from the Everfree forest! They screech and growl and run away and all I want to do is help them. I want to tell them everything will be alright, but what if everything won’t be alright? Rainbow Dash is missing, and Twilight-” the pegasus paused.

Applejack considered telling her about Rainbow Dash, but decided it could wait until the morning. She would focus on the more immediate issue for now.

She continued after a moment, “We still haven’t heard from Twilight.”

AJ sat up and gingerly put a hoof around Fluttershy’s neck, bringing her close. “You remember when we came out of the club the other night and everything seemed all strange for a second?” The pegasus nodded. “Well Ah reckon the animals are just still spooked from whatever that was. An’ maybe Ah’m wrong, and something else is bothering them. Maybe they won’t act normal again until we fix all this.”

“But we will fix all this, and they’ll come back to you either way. But until then you’ll just have to cope.” Fluttershy looked taken aback at the harshness of AJ’s last statement. “Cope with being one of the kindest, most empathetic, graceful ponies Equestria has ever known. Cope with being somepony who faces their greatest fears to help their friends, and somepony who Ah have personally seen face down a dragon. Somepony who flew three times as far as Ah walked today just to make sure her friends were safe.”

Fluttershy gave a small smile.

“Yer special, Fluttershy, whether some owl realizes it or not. Ah realize it, and so do all yer other friends. It does you no good to mope about it when yer likely exhausted. Get some rest.”

Fluttershy nodded, then curled up and closed her eyes. Applejack gave yet another sigh, then turned to find her own place to settle down for the night, noting that Pinkie Pie was now sprawled out on the forest floor, snoring softly.

She noticed Luna, however. The princess hadn’t moved since Applejack entered the trillium glade. She sat on her haunches, looking up at the night sky, completely unmoving. There was a certain timelessness to her bearing, as though she could, and had, simply stare at the sky all night. If the princess had heard any of their conversations, she gave no indication.

Applejack continued to examine the princess. She was simply beautiful. Her coat was a deep and luxurious blue, darkened to a near black under the night sky. Not a single strand of its hair was out of place. But where her coat seemed to reject the light of the moon and stars, her mane caught and reflected it, causing individual threads to shine with brilliance, framing her face with an ethereal glow. The shining half moon was a small semicircle reflected in each of her pupils, and the image seemed so right to Applejack, as though her eyes should look that way all the time. As though they were meant to.

Luna was a being infused with magic and presence. She was a god. It was all so alien to the mundane earthpony.

“Come, sit,” the princess said suddenly, never looking away from the night sky. Her voice was not loud, but it was still strong, clear, and fluid. The sound made Applejack shiver. Nopony was above or below a little Apple family hospitality, though, and Applejack took a seat beside the princess, and looked at the sky.

It didn’t seem any different than usual, although the lack of the lights this far from Canterlot made some of the stars more visible.

Applejack figured she ought to say something. “Twilight likes to stargaze.” It was the first thing to come to her mind.

“Does she?” Luna replied in her powerful voice.

“Yep.” Applejack said. Luna’s short response made her wonder if the princess cared at all, but she continued anyway. “She reads all sorts of books on the subject and has this fancy thing called a telescope that lets you see them closer up. Took us out to see a comet with it once.” Luna smiled, still looking at the sky. “Though Ah suppose you already know what a telescope is, seeing as the sky is sort of, well, yours,” Applejack added, feeling a little embarrassed.

“On the contrary, I only learned about them recently. The modern telescope was invented by Gallopileo Gallopilei four hundred years ago. I was in the moon.” The princess didn’t seem bothered by the fact.

“Can I ask a question about, well...”

“Go ahead. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Wasn’t it awful, well, boring, being up there fer a thousand years? Ah would’ve gone crazy myself.”

The princess finally looked down at her, and laughed. It was a quiet laugh that chimed softly through the trillium glade. “I wasn’t actually conscious for the whole ordeal, or I would have gone insane. I was a little aware that time was passing, but at the end it felt like we were waking up from a dream.”

We, Applejack thought. She’s talking about Nightmare Moon. Applejack needed to change the subject.

Luna saw her face and evidently thought the same thing. “Tell me more about Twilight Sparkle. Thou didst mention earlier to Pinkie Pie that she cast a memory spell to help thee in defeating Discord?”

Applejack almost jumped at the opportunity to talk about something else. “That was Twilight, alright. Discord had us all acting like the opposite of our Elements, and Twilight showed us that friendship was worth fighting for. Ah couldn’t tell the truth to save my life, but her spell brought me back. It showed us our friendship, and all the times we had had together. It was-” Applejack stopped.

“Thou misseth her.” the princess observed.

“Twilight is always in charge. In control. She’s what we rally around. She’s strong, you know? We could really use her right now. Ah’m not sure what to do without her...” Applejack admitted.

“I understand exactly how thee feel, Applejack. I think thou art doing an excellent job in her stead, however. Thou didst admirably ease the troubles of thine other friends. They shall rest well tonight, I think, thanks to thine efforts. Thou ought consider resting as well.” The princess gave Applejack a meaningful look

“Ah can stay up and work off of no sleep, if I really need to.” She thought back to the time Mac had an injury and she’d tried to tackle apple bucking season by herself. “Fer a little while, at least.”

Luna regarded her strangely. “The mark of a powerful earthpony. I can do it, too. My sister could stay awake for a week in a row without succumbing to exhaustion.”

“Ah’ve... Ah’ve never heard of that before.” Applejack admitted.

“It is difficult attribute to measure. All earthpony magic is. I think taking on thirteen puppets is the least of what thou art capable of.”

“Puppets?” Applejack asked. Is that what they are?

Luna frowned. “I shalt speak more of this in the morning, when everypony else is present.” She stood and stretched. “For now, I shalt find Rarity. Does it usually taketh her this long to bathe?”

“Princess, You have no idea.”

“I see.” The princess spread her wings. “Thank you, Applejack.”

Applejack was confused. “Fer what?”

“I eavesdropped tonight on all of your conversations. The things thou didst say... didst give me hope. I think I see now that ye did not simply defeat Nightmare Moon or Discord through luck. Ye will all make powerful soldiers, I think.” The princess did not elaborate on her last statement as she took flight.

It was a short while later that Applejack found a soft patch of mossy earth to lay down on. Her thoughts were not nearly as troubled as they had been before, and sleep came to her easily. One thought nagged at her, however. Soldiers, Luna had said. What if she didn’t want to be a soldier?

It was a depressing morning.

First, Rarity had had to sleep on the ground. No matter how much time she had put into inspecting and clearing the small patch of earth she used as a bed, she had always found more little twigs to poke at her uncomfortably. As a result, she had not gotten nearly enough sleep, and it took her almost an hour staring at her reflection in the nearby stream to get her mane to look like anything other than a train wreck. Even then, she had absolutely no cosmetics, and her coiffure lacked its usual sheen.

Fixing her mane and bathing helped her to forget about other things, however. Like the Twilight look-alike who had also happened to be the strongest unicorn Rarity had ever seen. Or the pile of splinters that had been her home and livelihood. Or Sweetie Belle, forced to live apart in a strange land simply because Rarity bore an Element of Harmony. Or the fourteen irregularly cut diamonds that she had tessellated into a masterwork weapon.

She could only spend so much time at the stream, however, and these thoughts filled her head once again as she made her way back to their impromptu camp. Princess Luna had told Rarity the previous night that she was working on a plan, but not said anything more. Luna had been gone when they woke up in the morning. Whatever her plan was, Rarity hoped it involved suitable accommodations. She was not an outdoors pony.

When Rarity returned however, Luna was back, conversing with Applejack in the centre of the glade. Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy were also awake, picking flowers a short distance away. As Rarity approached, Luna looked up at her.

“Thou hast returned.” the princess stated in her strangely resonant voice. “That makes everypony, so we shall begin. All of you, gather round, and listen.”

None of the four friends needed to be told twice; Rarity imagined all of them had questions that Luna could hopefully answer. They formed a semicircle in front of the princess and waited.

Luna seemed to a think for a moment. “I am... not sure where to begin,” she said finally. “The beginning,” she said, looking up at the sky. “Or you.” She looked back at the four ponies. “For now, I think, the beginning will have to wait, as we address the more immediately important details.”

“Those black ponies that attacked Ponyville are called puppets. They are constructs created by a special kind of magic to carry out their master’s will. They are hardly sentient, and don’t possess any free will.”

Luna looked at the group expectantly. “In other words, destroying them is a fairly guiltless act. I would liken it to breaking one of another pony’s possessions. A sensible action, if said possession is trying to kill you.”

Applejack relaxed visibly. Fluttershy let out a very audible sigh of relief. Rarity tried to seem as though the news meant anything to her. In truth, she hadn’t cared much whether or not the six she had killed were alive in the first place. They had tried to kill her, destroyed her home, and could have hurt Sweetie Belle. Her actions had been justified.

“These puppets are the servants of King Titan, a very old and very powerful alicorn. It is his belief that all energy, matter, and life are his to control. He believes that there is a ‘natural order’ to his world that ponykind violates. Titan has come to return his world to the ‘natural order’. Should he succeed, all creatures, big and small, shall worship him as their god and be forced to do his will. Everything will suffer.”

Luna’s words were met with total silence. The princess continued:

“Beneath Titan is his wife, Queen Terra. Terra’s purpose and magic are of creation. It is she who maketh the puppets who attacked ponyville. Terra’s purpose is to create, and Titan’s is to rule.”

“We have to use the elements on two alicorns?” Applejack asked. The earthpony looked uneasy.

“Thou bore them against Nightmare Moon,” Luna countered. “And there are more than two.”

“Somehow, Titan and Terra have taken Celestia’s power and given it to their newly created son, Prince Empyrean. Empyrean is not a infant alicorn, but rather a fully grown one with all of the power Celestia had. He hast been raising and lowering the sun.”

It was Rarity’s turn to interrupt. “Couldn’t you just refuse to lower the moon again?”

“And what would that do other than terrify the population even more?” Luna turned to her. Rarity flushed.

Luna continued. “An alicorn is born with considerable power. That power then grows linearly with their age. Empyrean is equal in strength to Celestia, who is a little stronger than Terra. Titan is stronger than both of them put together. And because I have not aged for the past thousand years, I am much, much weaker than all of them.”

“Also, they intend to wed me to Prince Empyrean, and have the two of us rule ponykind while they restore the natural order. While a rebellion doesn’t exactly threaten them, it would still hinder their plans somewhat. Which brings us to Nihilus Nix Naught.” The last name was spoken with unmasked hatred. “She is the pony beneath Empyrean, and she is in control of the puppets who attacked Ponyville. I spent most of last night and this morning gathering information- from the four of you, from intercepted letters, and listening in on conversations. I can safely tell you Nihilus is thine friend and leader, Twilight Sparkle, corrupted by something called the Sliver of Darkness. Rainbow Dash is somehow under her influence as well.”

Everypony began to speak at once.

“That monster looked nothing like Twilight-”

“How’r we supposed to use the elements if Twilight-”

“They can be fixed, right?!”

“But we need them-”

Luna silenced them all with a raised hoof. The gesture wasn’t sharp or aggressive, but still managed to draw all their attention and command silence.

“I shalt tell you a story that I hope will explain things,” the princess said. “But first, ye will all need to do some explaining thine-selves.” She looked at each of them in turn. “Beggining with thou, Rarity. Cast your blade.” Rarity felt her blood run cold. She knew this had been coming.

The others looked at her with confused expressions. Rarity gave a dramatic sigh and moved over to where her fourteen diamonds were spread out and hidden under the long grass. She cast her blade, and the diamonds zipped through the air, their razor sharp edges causing them to trail bits of grass as they collided in the air and formed a straight edge in front of her. Each diamond had its own specific position in the whole.

Fluttershy stared on in awe. Applejack frowned. Pinkie Pie clapped her front hooves together.

Luna spoke, “The spell that summons a blade is perhaps the most complex spell that a unicorn whose talent is not magic can learn.” Rarity felt like she was back in school, holding something up for show and tell.

“Not only is learning it a grueling exercise in focus and ability, but most blades also require material components. A unicorn does not manipulate a blade with unicorn telekinesis, but rather a far more graceful and complex form of magic that conveys a set of benefits unique to the caster.”

“The spell that casts a blade is one of the deepest expressions of unicorn magic known to ponykind. As such, it requires something deeper than concentration, study, and ability. A unicorn has to believe in what they fight for. A unicorn cannot cast a blade without the conviction to wield it. Doubt thyself for even a moment, and thy blade will be lost to you. Thou must fight for something, even if that something is merely the fight itself.”

Luna walked toward Rarity, stopping so that she didn’t block anypony’s view of her. Rarity shifted uncomfortably.

“I am not surprised,” Luna said to her, “That you have the talent and focus to cast a blade. Nor that thou possess the conviction to wield it when those you love are in danger. But why dost thou know the spell in the first place? To what purpose didst thou learn to weaponize thine special talent?”

The ponies in the glade all waited expectantly. Rarity considered lying. It would be fairly easy, coming up with a believable answer. A lie might be even more believable than the truth, she reasoned. She could say something to make her interest in the weapon seem superficial, and they would probably buy it. Even the princess.

They were her friends, though, and her ruling monarch. She was a lady. Lies were unbecoming of her. She could, however, leave out the unnecessary details.

“Honestly, Princess Luna, you sound so grave,” she answered, twirling the diamond edge through the air and around her person. “This really isn’t such a big deal. My father was part of the twelfth Equestrian. I was a military brat, and father wanted me to grow up to be just like him. When mother died, he wasn’t fit to take care of us anymore. He wasn’t really fit to raise children in the first place, if you ask me. He wanted a warrior, not a daughter.”

She brought the blade to float in front of her and separated the diamonds, breaking it into its components. “He taught me the basics of combat and bladecasting before Sweetie and I were moved out here to ponyville. It only makes sense that when I found my cutie mark I finally created the weapon I had romanticized about all throughout my early fillyhood. My father was an extremely competent bladecaster- it was his special talent, you see- and I figured it would be useful thing to have if he ever came for Sweetie Belle.”

She spun it through the air some more, letting the diamonds catch the sunlight. “And doesn’t it look fabulous! Who knew that something with such a function could have such form!”

Rarity watched as the expressions on her friends’ faces turned from shock to sympathy. Princess Luna’s expression, however, was unreadable.

Fluttershy began to speak. “I never knew, Rarity, I’m so-”

Rarity cut Fluttershy off mid-sentence. “Please don’t heap sympathy upon me like I’m some helpless orphan. The past is the past, and I’m now an accomplished fashionista. In any case, don’t you think we should all be focused on the present?”

“Sorry.”

Rarity released her blade and the diamonds fell back to the forest floor. She would need to get something to carry them around in, eventually. In any case, Rarity thought, if you want to feel sorry for me you should focus on the fact that I am now completely ruined and homeless.

“That explanation will suffice for now,” Luna said. “Let’s stay focused. Applejack, how didst thou defeat thirteen puppets?”

The orange mare scratched the back of her neck with a hoof. “Well, Ah sort of had help from my older brother Big Macintosh.”

“And how many didst Big Macintosh destroy?”

“One or two,” the earthpony answered meekly. “But Ah woulda been a goner if he hadn’t of come and saved me for sure.”

“How didst thou fight them, though?” Luna seemed confused. “Did you have a weapon? Special training, like Rarity?”

“Nope,” Applejack shook her head. “Ah just sorta... kicked em, and they went poof.”

Luna tilted her head. “Destroying a puppet is no different from killing a regular pony. Thou hast to deal them a mortal wound. Thou art saying you can kick a pony so hard that they die?”

“Of course she can!” Pinkie Pie had been unusually silent up to that point in the conversation. “She can kick an apple tree so hard all the apples all off!”

“Indeed,” the princess said, regarding Applejack with the same unreadable expression. “Earthpony magic is what makes alicorns so difficult to kill, and so quick to heal. I pulled half a lamp post out of my chest yesterday and am fine today. I have the power of a world-class earthpony, just like I have the power of a world-class pegasi and unicorn.”

Luna still looked puzzled. “I am not sure if I could kick a tree that hard, to be honest.”

“Moving on.” The princess continued, ignoring Applejack’s dumbfounded look. “What is ‘the stare’?” She turned to Fluttershy.

The pegasus didn’t meet the princess’ eyes. “I can, um, sort of...” she mumbled the last bit.

“Speak up.”

Fluttershy looked like she had been caught committing a crime. The pegasus made herself as small as possible, then took a large breath. “I-can-sort-of-control-anythings-free -will-if-I-look-into-its-eyes,” she said quickly. She looked up the the princess, squeaked, and cringed.

“Also, I sort of, got rid of one of the, um, puppets, with it.”

The look on Luna’s face was one of absolute horror. “Thou canst what?”

“I don’t ever use it on ponies!” Fluttershy pleaded. “Just on the critters sometimes when they get... obstinate.”

“Thou meanest to say that thee canst look a pony in the eye and compel them to do whatever you wish?”

Fluttershy hung her head. “Yes,” she said quietly.

Luna looked troubled. “This explains quite a bit. Mind magic is completely illegal. Nopony is allowed to influence another pony’s will with magic, under any circumstances. But nopony can perform mind magic on a pony without their express permission. They have to allow it. I have never heard of anything like this ‘stare’ of yours. But if it affects free will, then it makes sense that it would work strangely on the puppets, considering they have none. It would probably affect mind spells as well, because mind magic does not mix with itself.”

The princess continued. “I was interested to learn that Twilight was able to use a memory spell to help ye defeat Discord. Not only is such a spell illegal, but she shouldn’t have had access to any books detailing the spell itself. Somehow she invented a spell she didn’t know existed, and she didn’t need your consent to use it on you.”

“You aren’t in any trouble, Fluttershy,” Luna said, “you haven’t done anything wrong. I was just shocked to hear about something I thought was impossible.” The pegasus looked relieved.

“Now that that’s done,” Luna carried on.

“Hey! You skipped me!” Pinkie Pie shot the princess an accusatory glare as she bounced up and down in place.

“Didst thou destroy any puppets?” Luna asked with a smile.

“Nope.” Bounce.

“Hast thou any secret knowledge of the art of war you’d like to share?”

“Nuh-uh!” Bounce.

“Any inexplicable special powers?”

“Noperoo!” Bounce. Pinkie Pie gave a sly wink.

“Then we shall get to you later.” Pinkie Pie slumped. The princess continued. “Right now, I need ye all to tell me about Twilight. What hast ye seen her do? What spells can she cast? How does she learn new spells so quickly?” Luna looked at them all expectantly.

“She can teleport,” Applejack offered.

“Once she levitated a water tower and restrained an Ursa Major at the same time!” Fluttershy’s exclamation was soft.

“Twilight has a spell for everything! I bet she has a spell to help her keep track of her spells!” Pinkie Pie was still bouncing.

“Perhaps all of you should let me handle this question.” Rarity fluffed her mane. “Your education is lacking when it comes to some the, er, finer points of unicorn magic. Understandable, considering none of you are unicorns.” She batted her eyes.

Then Rarity turned to Princess Luna. “From what I’ve been able to tell, Twilight’s education avoids actually teaching her any spells altogether. She spends all her time learning about almost everything but. Physics, Chemistry, Mathematics. She spends so much time with her nose in books, and almost none of them are practical magic. Only theory.”

“Twilight does learn spells through the formulaic method, like when she needed a very complicated flight spell or when I taught her a gem-finding spell.”

Rarity had actually been a little peeved at how quickly Twilight had learned the gem-finding spell. It was her specialty, and Twilight had spent barely an hour mastering it. Rarity had gotten over her envy, however, when the other unicorn used it to rescue her.

“Instead, she uses her knowledge of theory to invent spells as she needs them. She’s very talented. I suppose that’s just what magically talented unicorns are supposed to do.”

Luna looked unnerved. “Unicorns who create spells do spend a long time gaining a rigorous understanding of physical laws, but it can still take them months to properly balance the forces they work with to create a spell. How long does it normally take Twilight?”

Seconds. “Much less time, I would say. She once came up with a spell to manipulate the behaviour of some parasprites, although that was technically a failure. She spent an afternoon working on a spell that turns an apple into a carriage, and mice into horses.” Rarity ran through her mind looking for more examples. “She also managed to counteract Discord’s magic, undoing some of his chaos and shielding us from him while we confronted him.”

Luna looked both troubled and confused. “What dost thou mean, undoing some of his chaos?”

Pinkie Pie chimed in, “She made a giant bubble and everything inside it returned to normal!”

“Interesting,” Luna said. “It seems that Twilight is able to intuitively cast a spell that only Titan himself could perform. Celestia told me she was talented, and I suppose she is the bearer of the Element of Magic. But this behaviour is still quite astonishing. No wonder the parasite could defeat me.”

“The parasite?” Applejack asked.

Luna nodded, “I think it’s time I told ye all the story. Ye all remember Twilight’s memory spell?”

The princess looked around at them. Everypony nodded.

“This shall feel a little like that. You’re all going to need to willingly let me in, however. Unlike your friend Twilight, I must still obey the laws of mind magic.”

“Also, these memories are very old, and of a rather personal nature. Do not share them with others. And try not to interrupt; it is a long story, and this spell will take focus.”

Rarity piqued up at this last bit. Just what exactly was Princess Luna going to show them?

Luna’s horn began to emit a soft glow, and Rarity immediately felt her spell’s presence pressing against her thoughts. She let it in-

And was immediately floating in nothingness, surrounded by a million brilliant stars. She floated, only able to observe, in the vast expanse of nothingness.

But she was also still sitting in the trillium glade, surrounded by her friends and the ancient trees. Somehow, Luna’s spell made her aware of both realities at once. Judging by the wide-eyed way the other three were looking around, they were experiencing it too.

The memory continued to rotate in place at the centre of the void, bringing more stars into view.

“We shall begin, naturally, at the beginning. I will admit that as I had not been born at the time, I cannot give you a full recollection of these events. Titan and Terra never spoke of the past. But I know this:”

The edges of her memory vision blurred, and suddenly she found herself staring up at a pair of alicorns. One was as big as Celestia, colored midnight black with a blazing white mane. The other was slightly smaller, and had a grass-green coat and a mane of sunshine yellow.

“Queen Terra filled this world with life, and king Titan did name and order all of her creations. Eventually, they created a race in their own image. A race without equals. It was the race of pony. Each pony was granted a drop of their immortal blood, a spark of divinity. This gifted them with one of three attributes.”

The image of the alicorns dissolved, and a pegasus zoomed past overhead. The memory followed the pegasus as it landed beside two other ponies- a unicorn and an earthpony.

“Unexpectedly, it also bestowed upon them the gift of purpose.”

Each pony’s flank flashed, and the three looked down to find that they had cutie marks. The unicorn had a four-pointed star, the pegasus a whirlwind, and the earthpony a tree.

“But while Terra created the ponies, she did not nurture them. And while Titan ruled them, he did not love them. The race of pony rebelled. Titan, furious with them, turned to Terra and spoke the words that all of his possessions fear most. ‘Strike them down,’ he said. And she obeyed.”

The three ponies caught fire and disintegrated. The alicorn Rarity now knew to be Terra landed where they had been a moment before.

“It became evident that ponykind couldst not rule themselves, lest they rebel again. Too busy with their own works, the king and queen created beings to rule ponykind for them. Beings they could trust not to rebel. Their daughters, Celestia and Luna.”

“Waitwaitwait!” Pinkie Pie shouted, “they’re your parents?”

Luna hung her head in shame. “Yes,” she said simply.

“But don’t that make this prince feller yer brother?”

Unexpectedly, Luna’s response was to laugh. “I am as disturbed as thou art by the idea of marrying him, Applejack. But Titan and Terra predate incest. Alicorns don’t reproduce via mammalian means. In fact, they may actually be siblings.”

“Ewww.” Pinkie Pie stuck out her tongue. The other ponies all gave similar reactions.

“In any case, back to our story. It is going to shift to a more... personal nature.”

Rarity focused again on the memory spell that was giving her a second set of senses. The memory shifted again from the image of Terra, and she found herself struggling through the air as a filly smaller than Sweetie Belle. With a start, she realized that she was now living one of Luna’s actual memories. Rarity relaxed, and let the spell take hold.

Luna was flying for the first time.

It was more than just flapping your wings, she had realized. Her wings weren’t nearly big enough to lift something even as small as she was. Instead, she had to tap some kind of force inside of herself, lifting herself off of the ground just by thinking about it while flapping her wings. She didn’t understand it, but she was still flying.

She struck a wall. The princess tumbled backward, landing on her head, then shot back into the air with enthusiasm. She hadn’t learned how to steer yet, and her movements basically consisted of frantically beating her wings upward and leaning so as to fall in the direction she wished to go. Right now, she wished to go to the courtyard.

“Celly!” she called as she entered the well-kept yard enclosed within her father’s half of the palace. “Celly, I can fly!” She faltered in midair and plummeted down into one of the many flower bushes. She sprung up a moment later, “Look Celly! Celly!” She landed roughly in front of her sister on her side, then threw herself back to her feet. She was a durable filly.

Princess Celestia was sitting in the center of the courtyard, where she spent most of her time. Luna didn’t understand why, but Celestia spent almost all of her days outdoors basking in the sunlight. At the moment, she was magically pulling petals of a flower. Celestia had finally discovered how to use her unicorn magic two days earlier, and had not stopped moving things around with it since.

Luna had been so jealous she had called her sister a big stupid horse and locked herself away in her room, crying. Now, however, the feud was completely forgotten by both sisters.

Celestia dropped the flower and gave her sister a hug. “That’s wonderful news, Luna! Now we both have magic! Father will be so pleased when you tell him. Show me again?”

Celestia pulled away and watched as Luna lifted herself a mere three feet into the air and then fell back to the ground in a heap. She gasped in awe, clearly impressed.

“I’m still working on the landing bit,” Luna said, shaking dirt out of her mane.

“That was amazing! I can’t wait until I learn how to use pegasus magic!”

“You already know unicorn magic though, right?”

“Yeah, look.” Celestia screwed up her eyes and the flower lifted slowly into the air. She screwed up her eyes, and it burst into flame, ashes falling gently to the grass.

Luna oohed and awed appropriately.

Celestia stood. “When I’m as big as father, I’m going to be the most magical pony in all of Equestria!”

“And I’m going to be fastest flyer there ever was!” Luna made a zooming sound as she ran in a circle.

Luna, fastest flyer in the world, was seven years old.

Luna watched her mother closely, every muscle in her body ready to move. She was charged with her unicorn magic, and her wings were flared.

Queen Terra dipped her horn, and it began to emit a wispy black smoke. The smoke condensed into a earthpony puppet, which looked up to Terra for instruction. Terra nodded, and the earthpony charged her.

“Earthpony,” her mother’s voice resonated through the training hall.

Luna evaded the charge by rolling to the side, then telekinetically grabbed a bronze shard off of a table nearby.

“Keep them at a distance and attack with magic,” she answered, launching herself out of her roll and into the air. She threw the bronze shard through the earthpony’s neck, and it fell to the ground, gurgling blood.

“Destroy the head to ensure that you break through their earthpony resilience.” She landed beside the earthpony as it struggled on the ground and grabbed it’s head with her forelegs. With a surge of her own earthpony magic, she tore the construct’s head from its shoulders. It dissipated.

If her mother was pleased or impressed, she showed no sign of either. “Pegasus,” she said simply, conjuring another puppet.

“Superior agility renders basic magic useless.” Luna threw herself into the air, toward the oncoming puppet.

They collided in midair, and Luna easily overpowered the larger creature. She bent its front legs back so that they pinned its own wings and then twisted to ensure that her enemy hit the ground first.

The pegasus struggled beneath her. “Close with them quickly and overcome with earthpony strength.” She grunted as she headbutted the pegasus, and the front of its face exploded under the sheer force of her own. Thankfully, the gore dissipated almost instantaneously. Luna rolled to her feet, excited for what came next.

“Unicorn.”

The unicorn puppet had a mane of fine, bright red hair. While in reality unicorns had no inherent advantage over the other two races, Terra infused her unicorn puppets much more power.

Luna grabbed several of the bronze shards and flung them at the puppet from different directions. She charged.

The puppet threw out a sloppily cast wave of telekinetic force, deflecting each of the shards, then it turned toward her.

The puppet turned too late, however. Luna collided with it and pinned it to the ground, throwing a hoof at its face in a hasty punch.

The unicorn moved its head to avoid the punch, then made to slap her with a wave of force. Luna had anticipated this move, however, and thrown her set of bronze shards at the puppet. It had to redirect its spell to deflect them, then cast another to disengage her. Luna ducked in close as the unicorn cast the first spell, gripping on to the puppet’s horn with her teeth.

The second spell threw her backward, and the length of bone snapped free in her jaw. She tasted the puppet’s blood as she telekinetically threw the horn point first through the staggering puppet’s eye.

“Divide its attention before you go for the kill.”

Her mother nodded, then began to summon more. “All of them?” She asked.

Luna leapt into the air as the three puppets came at her. She threw her shards of bronze at the unicorn and moved to tackle the pegasus. She didn’t have time to bring it to the ground, and the earthpony could attack her there in any case, so she simply impaled it through the ribs with her horn.

The pegasus dissipated in time to reveal her bronze shards coming back at her, thrown by the enemy unicorn. She deflected the one that would have hit her head and felt the other two bury themselves in her abdomen. She fell from the air, and the earthpony jumped her as the unicorn sent more shards her way.

She grabbed the earthpony with her unicorn magic, holding it so that it was in the way of the the oncoming shards. Then, she tore the shards lodged in her own body free, throwing them at the earthpony to guarantee a kill. Four bronze shards bit into the earthpony’s flesh from two different directions, and it dissipated, leaving the shards hovering in the air between her and the unicorn.

She threw herself and the shards at the unicorn, and it threw both back with a powerful ripple of telekinesis. Then, it threw a spike of magical force at her. This time, however, she kept hold of the shards, and ordered them all to converge on the unicorn as she deflected most of its own assault with a slanted barrier. The unicorn deflected three of her shards, but the fourth ripped through both its hind legs.

Luna approached, no longer needing to be fast. She had one opponent, and it was immobilized. Cautiously, she approached the puppet as it threw more shards and force spikes her way. She was magically exhausted, and relied on her speed and wings to evade them.

“Divide and conquer,” she said. “Defeat enemy pegasi first for air dominance and a potential escape route. Place enemies between you and the unicorns. Sustaining harm is worth it only if it gains you a victory.” While the wounds in her chest would heal in a couple of days, tearing the shards out of them had been excruciatingly painful.

At last she reached the unicorn. It tried to kick itself away from her, but with only two legs it was a pitiful sight. Puppets had no self-preservation instincts, but putting more distance between itself and Luna would give it more time to attack her. She stepped on its neck, and leaned forward, crushing its windpipe. It vanished.

Luna, studious pupil, was eleven years old.

Her mother regarded the wounded young alicorn for a moment. “Alicorn?” she asked quietly.

Luna was confused. “When would I ever need to fight an alic-”

Faster than Luna could have possibly imagined, her mother had her pinned to the ground. She telekinetically drove a metal shard back into one Luna’s wounds and spun it around. Luna shrieked.

“Wrong answer,” Terra hissed. In an instant, her mother was standing back where she had been before.

“We will ask you again tomorrow. Do not answer us with a question. Thou dost not ask us questions.”

Luna pulled the shard out and struggled to her feet.

“Get those wounds dressed and switch with your sister.”

It was Luna who interrupted this time. “Something wrong, Rarity?”

Rarity blinked back tears. “Was it like that every day?”

“Every day. And she wasn’t nearly as bad as Titan.”

“I’m sorry. Please, continue.”

Her mother’s behaviour had not been uncommon. Luna gingerly exited the training hall and bandaged up her wounds, then went to go find her father.

She found Celestia travelling in the opposite direction as she passed through her father’s courtyard. The left side of her sister’s face was swollen and bruised, and a thin cut ran along her neck, from the base of her ear to her collarbone. They regarded each other's ragged and beaten state, then smiled in unison.

“Got a question about monarchical ethics wrong,” Celestia explained. “Thou?”

“She asked me how to fight an alicorn, and I hesitated.”

Celestia frowned, “there are none other than us, though.”

“I know,” Luna said, worry creeping into her voice. “Dost thou thinkest that they will have us train against each other?”

“I hope not. You would win. See you tonight, sister.”

Luna laughed. Celestia did come back from their mother’s lessons with far more bruises and cuts than she.

She proceeded to their father’s study. He was teaching them how to rule a kingdom. “One day,” he had said to them, “We will take your mother to complete our other works. Thou wilt ensure ponykind stays in its place.”

The memory shifted again, and Rarity felt a surge of pity for her princess. She understood the look that Luna had given her earlier. Their childhoods had not been so different. Rarity had never had a sister to confide in before Sweetie Belle, but Luna had never had a mother, really.

Luna stood beside her sister, facing what seemed like every pony in the kingdom. Her mother and father sat behind her, watching over them. They looked up, unblinking, at the sky.

Specifically, Luna looked at the moon.

It was daylight out, and nopony could tell where it was except her. She tracked it as it moved across the sky, drifting towards a point directly above them. Celestia was moving the sun to the same point. The two astral bodies converged.

The world was bathed in glorious darkness as the moon blocked out the sun’s light. The black shadow of her moon was surrounded by the sun’s pure white corona, and beyond that the stars.

She was finally using alicorn magic. Unlike unicorn magic, it wasn’t a pool of power to be spent at her leisure. It was deep, limitless, and totally beyond her understanding or control. It could defy all the regular rules. And with it she would live forever, ruling ponykind with her sister.

They weren’t going to do it the way their father wanted them to, however. Yes, ponykind would fit into the natural order. Yes, they would worship the alicorns and do their bidding. But it would be out of both fear and love. They were going to show all of ponydom that they could be compassionate where Titan was not.

The ponies cheered. Titan placed a tiara on each of their heads, fixed them with a jeweled necklace, and shod their feet with gleaming shoes. Today marked their first day as the royal pony sisters, responsible for all ponykind.

“We are proud of you,” Terra said.

Luna, princess of Equestria, was thirteen years old. She and her sister had gotten their cutie marks the previous day.

The memory shifted, and in the trillium glade, Luna spoke. “Titan and Terra returned to their works, but Titan commanded Terra to stop creating new life. He said that the ecosystem was complete, that he could begin moving each creature into its natural place. He explained that order was his purpose, and that he ruled all creatures, including Terra. He was above her, and so she must obey him.”

“Naturally, Terra disagreed. The war was devastating.”

“Captain!” Luna bellowed. “Where are the rest of my guards?!”

The castle shook, not for the first time that night. Dust was shaken from her court’s smooth stone walls. Dead ponies, armored in the gold-colored bronze of princess Celestia, surrounded them. The soldiers had really been in service to King Titan. Every soldier in the palace technically answered to either the king or the queen. Celestia would never have sent soldiers to apprehend her.

Outside, the elements battled furiously. Wind tore banners off their posts, and lightning arced across the sky. The ground shook every couple moments, and dark storm clouds obscured Luna’s moon. Rain battered against the citadel in sheets. The elemental cacophony was Terra’s doing.

Her captain looked at her with fear in his eyes. Luna wondered if he was afraid of the enemy soldiers, or of her. “They were sent to capture your sister.”

It only made sense that Terra had sent a group for Celestia. Titan had, after all, sent one to apprehend Luna. The effort was futile, however. Luna was an alicorn trained by her parents to kill. The corpses of the soldiers riddled the floor around them.

Luna dove through one of the windows in her court and tried to orient herself in the raging storm. She was a strong flyer for her age, and managed to do so quickly. She set off towards Celestia’s tower. It was night, so her sister would likely not be out and about the palace.

She was just over halfway there when a group of gold-armored pegasi came for her. The first collided with her, but she overpowered him, snapping his neck and letting him fall to the castle below. The second cast a javelin at her, and she telekinetically pushed it back along its course, impaling him.

The third and final pegasi was a mare who hesitated upon seeing Luna’s brutality. The princess used her magic to wrench the javelin into her hoof, causing the falling pegasus’ body to twist violently in the air. She threw it at the mare.

The mare managed to roll out of the way of the javelin- a difficult maneuver in the storm. She looked at Luna, and her eyes were filled with fear. She didn’t see the javelin reverse its course.

The mare fell, javelin through her neck.

The last look of desperation haunted Luna as she approached Celestia’s tower. Why had she killed the mare? All of the pegasi had been her people, and the mare hadn’t even attacked her. She landed in Celestia’s chambers, and was greeted with a gruesome sight.

The burned and broken corpses of her personal guard were strewn about her sister’s opulent bedchamber. The smell of seared pony flesh was overwhelmingly nauseating, and the floors were coated in a thin layer of ash. Luna was almost sick.

There was a flash, and the room with filled with incandescence for a fraction of a second as a bolt of lightning arced through an open window and into the centre of the room, pulverizing the smooth stone floors. When it vanished, Terra stood where it had struck, her form back-lit by the raging storm outside. She was different; her mane seemed to blaze brighter, and her eyes burned with a searing orange glow. Her pupils had narrowed into slits, and her wings split into energy at their tips, feathers melting away into wavering bands of light. She looked like she was two thousand years older. She looked like Titan.

“Luna,” she said. Her voice was quiet, but hard. “It is good that thou art here. Titan has withdrawn from the city.”

Luna forgot entirely the fact that she was speaking to the queen. “What is going on, mother!? Where is Celestia?”

Terra turned, to face out of the open window and into the raging storm. “Titan has ruled for far to long, child. We have had enough of his rules and deliberations. We are going to crush him, and then it is We who will rule this world. We who will be worshipped as the supreme being, the divine authority!” She turned her head slightly so that she could see Luna. “And thou, my dearest daughter, are going to help us do it. Whether you like it or not.”

Rarity was confused. “Why are you showing us this?” She asked.

Luna looked sad. “It helps to explain the monster I became. The monsters we made our people become.”

“You see, that last pegasus I killed had been a good friend of Celestia’s. Celestia had known all of her guards, and when they came for me, I had slaughtered them, to a pony. I only felt guilty about the last one, however- she hadn’t attacked me. I found out that she had been the only parent of an infant daughter, whom I took under my wing. She was not the only ward I took in. But I was no better to them than my own parents were to me.”

“Under the tutelage of our parents and subject to the horrors of war, Celestia and I became horrible, cruel monsters. Somehow, Terra had made herself as powerful as Titan. They did not fight each other, each too afraid that they would die. Instead they sought control over Equestria and all of ponydom. Terra had me, and Titan had Celestia. We were their generals, and we hated each other with a loathing that takes decades to build.”

The memory began again.

Luna’s elite tore through Celestia’s forces.

Blooper cut through her enemies with amazing speed. He was a blue flurry of death, his jagged mane trailing behind him as the earthpony cut down her enemies with the retractable blades attached to his forelegs. Arcbolt was the greatest flying ace in the kingdom, faster even than Luna herself. She owned the skies above them.

Luna moved amidst the conflict, pressing ever deeper into Celestia’s army. An enemy earthpony came at her, evidently with a death wish, and she cleaved him in two with her blade. A unicorn attempted to stick her with a set of iron spikes, and she deflected them as Blooper slid a blade into the offender’s neck. An enemy pegasus fell from the sky above, wings broken, and Luna put him down where he lay.

Luna brought herself into a group of Celestia’s soldiers with two powerful flaps of her wings, and spun her sword around in great, sweeping arcs. Those who weren’t cut down immediately were either killed by the iron spikes she now gripped telekinetically or cut down by Blooper as he flipped and rolled to her position.

She heard a high pitched whistling, and instinctively ducked. She wasn’t fast enough, however, as a round, bladed disc cut into her back and continued to fly through the air. Blooper back-flipped over the disc with his usual acrobatic panache, smiling as he narrowly avoided death. The disc came around for another swipe, quickly, and Luna was impressed. Not every unicorn could manage that level of telekinetic manipulation.

Another disc shot through the air toward her, low this time, and Luna prepared to launch herself to the side. Before she could, however, her legs lost their grip on the ground beneath her, sending her sliding onto her belly as the whirling discs closed in.

“Wheeee!” Blooper slid past her and out of harm’s way, flipping back up to his feet as he exited the friction spell’s radius.

Luna launched herself into the air with her wings fast enough to avoid the flying discs. She was a powerful flyer, and one flap of her voluminous alicorn wings brought her high into the air.

“Arcbolt!” she shouted, searching around for the pegasus. She found the pegasus above her, falling through the air, wings bound by magical blue threads.

Luna undid the spell controlling the bonds with her mind and deflected another oncoming disc with a force field. She used her blade to shear through the second disc as it came for her. She jerked her head downward, and Arcbolt dove, her spiky blue and red mane trailing behind her. Luna followed.

Approaching the ground, she expected to see a team of unicorns directing the magic that had been used against them. There was only one.

She was a deep blue mare with a long, straight white mane sporting a single streak of black. An iridescent length of blue floated before her, a blade. As Luna expected, her cutie mark was a four pointed star. Magic was her talent, then. Magically talented unicorns were a terror on the battlefield.

The unicorn was surrounded by Luna’s fallen soldiers. Another set of discs spun around her as she brought her blade to a combat position. Her skin shimmered, and Luna knew she had used a spell to make it tougher, resistant to all but the sharpest blades.

Luna waited for the unicorn to throw her blade-discs at Arcbolt, then landed and charged her. Their blades met.

While Luna was a talented flyer and a strong pony, her skill with magic was lacking, and the shaft of moonlight before her flickered and vibrated against the more powerful blade.

Blooper cartwheeled up them and took a swing at the unicorn with one of his retractable foreleg blades. The unicorn split her weapon into two pieces, one deflecting Blooper’s lightning fast series of blows, the other matching Luna’s slower, more powerful swings as she stepped and rolled into and out of different fighting stances. Even half of her sword was enough to keep Luna at bay.

A blur of white, blue, and red streaked through the air, colliding with the unicorn. The unicorn’s concentration broke, and her swords vanished. Arcbolt rolled, keeping the unicorn in a headlock. Their enemy looked up at Luna. She was young, barely a mare.

“Please,” she begged. “I’m the last of my line.”

Luna looked dispassionately at the unicorn. A magical talent was a rare resource. One that would benefit her own army greatly. “Then thou shouldst not have come to war,” she said coldly. She nodded to Arcbolt. “Kill her.”

“Like any of us has a choice,” was the mare’s only response. She hung her head.

Arcbolt looked at Luna, then shared a glance with Blooper. “Princess... she’s just a girl.”

“She can’t be any older than you two. Do as I say.”

Arcbolt’s face grew firm, and she released the mare. “I refuse,” she said quietly. Both Arcbolt and Blooper turned away.

Luna screamed and thrust her blade at the mare, intending to kill her herself. Her blade, however, was blocked by another, this one also stronger than hers.

It was made of sunlight.

“No!” Celestia shrieked, desperation in her voice. “Thou shalt not take her!”

Luna sneered. “Why? Is this one special?”

“More like useful,” Celestia shot back. They began to circle each other. “You know we’re all just tools. Us, and them.”

Luna never knew why Celestia fought for Titan. But she knew why she fought for Terra. To kill her sister.

Luna, warrior princess, was thirty-seven.

“It would take a long, long time for us to reconcile our differences. As a result, the war lasted for decades.”

Luna picked through the ambush site aimlessly. They had been greatly outnumbered, and all of her forces had perished. She had killed the remainder of their ambushers herself, fighting furiously until she was only living creature within miles. The ground below them was barren except for the bodies of her subjects.

She came to the corpse of a tiny earthpony, and was appalled to find that the small form lying in the dirt didn’t have a cutie mark.

Luna looked away from the colt, up toward the moon. It hung brightly in the sky, indifferent to Luna or the dead that surrounded her. Was this tiny colt one of Celestia’s forces. Had Luna killed him herself in the fray? Or was he one of Luna’s soldiers, sent by her to die in an alicorn’s war? She couldn’t tell, he hadn’t gone into combat wearing any armor.

For the first time in her life, Luna got tired of looking at the moon. She checked its distance in the sky, measuring the stars on the horizon. It would be seven hours before morning.

Luna wanted to see the sun. She was forty-one years old.

In the glade, Luna looked exhausted. “Little did I know that my sister was undergoing the same transformation. It is a difficult thing, confronting yourself after you have become such a pitiful creature.”

She emerged from her battle line unarmed. Less than a hundred feet away, Celestia’s tiny force had formed its own line. Her sister stood in front of them, pink mane billowing. Celestia had a much smaller force, and Luna could easily crush it if she so chose. She didn’t give the order to attack.

Instead, she strode out to meet Celestia.

Her sister eyed her as she approached. She looked tired. “Where is thy blade?”

Luna’s voice was quiet so only they could hear. “I haven’t been able to cast it for six months.”

Celestia didn’t smile, or attack. Instead, she let out her breath. “Neither have I.”

“We don’t have to do this, sister.”

“As Celestia would say, we were no longer pieces, but players. Our endgame was what we had aspired to do so many years ago: to rule ponykind with compassion and love. To do this, however, we needed to get rid of the two most powerful ponies in the world. We each tricked them into thinking the other was weak, goading them into one final confrontation.”

Luna watched her mother as she was defeated.

Titan’s spell had caused her to plummet to the ground so hard that her impact kicked up dirt. She coughed up blood, and her wounds didn’t fully heal. She struggled to stand, but her legs went limp. Titan pressed his solid black blade against her throat. She was an alicorn with no power left, too weak to stand, barely able to talk. Titan could have killed her if he wanted. Luna stood to his left, Celestia to his right. Their obedience gave him what they needed him to have: a feeling of control.

“Relinquish the Sliver, Terra.”

It was the first time Rarity had ever heard his voice, and she shivered. It was like he was speaking to her through the memory. His voice was smooth and resonant, and echoed unnaturally. Something about it seemed so wrong.

Slowly, a tiny black sliver of crystal slid its way out of Terra’s chest, right above her heart. As it did, the alicorn seemed to age backwards, losing whatever power she had gained to make her Titan’s equal. Titan spoke.

“Interesting. Thou hast our power, yes, but not our skill. You cannot defeat us with power alone, dear wife, for we are power. Had thou not forgotten this we could have avoided this unnecessary conflict.”

“Luna,” Terra hissed, her voice filled with hatred.

“You are wondering, of course, why our daughter betrayed you. We too were surprised to see her displayeth such wisdom. It seems she wanted to be on the winning side.”

Luna attacked first, swinging her newly casted weapon at his neck.

But Titan was old, and alicorns gained power through age. Despite being near-exhausted from his fight with Terra, he moved impossibly fast, and was barely able to dodge the attack by leaping back from Luna with a beat of his wings.

His leap impaled him on Celestia’s sword.

It was the first and only time Luna ever saw him look surprised. At full strength, Titan would have been more than a match for both of them, but weak as he was, Celestia’s blow gave them the opening they needed. They descended upon him, his daughters, hacking until they were sure he had spent every last vestige of his power to keep himself alive. It was grisly work.

“Impossible,” Titan said weakly from the ground after they were finished. “I gave you everything,” he continued, dropping the use of the majestic plural.

The sisters insulted him in the worst way they knew how: they ignored him. Their horns began to glow, and they tapped their alicorn magic, most mysterious of all the powers they had available to them. It showed them what to do.

“You betray the very nature of existence by defying me. I am order. I am control. Without me, chaos will consume you all.”

They began to construct a prison.

“With Titan and Terra locked deep beneath the earth, slumbering eternally, Celestia and I began creating the perfect world for all of Terra’s races. We sought to serve ponykind, and for the first time ever, ponies were given the ability to govern themselves. But with our father gone, we inherited his ancient enemy.”

“Discord was a creature unlike anything we had ever seen before, and without Titan to fight him off, there was nothing to stop him from taking our world from us. We were powerless against him.”

“These were some of the darkest days ponykind had ever faced, and they are not necessary to our story. So I will skip over the finding of the Elements of Harmony and the defeat of Discord. But I will say that had a young pegasus named Arcbolt and an even younger earthpony named Blooper not refused to kill a mare named Astor Coruscare when I gave the order, we would all still be doomed.”

In the Glade, Luna sat, eyes downcast.

“This brings us the last thing we must address today. My greatest shame.”

Luna stood out on the balcony of her chambers, overlooking her kingdom. It was cold, but she was an alicorn, and the cold did not bother her. Below her, the city was silent.

The night was beautiful. Moonlight bathed their palace, giving it a surreal glow. Above them, stars moved too slowly to be visible to the naked eye. A meteor streaked through the sky, leaving behind it a trail of light. During the day, the sun blanketed the world in its light, but at night, Equestria was open, almost vulnerable, to the vastness beyond. Yes, Luna decided, the night was beautiful.

It was also ignored.

All throughout Equestria, ponies slept. Luna could hardly blame them- after all, it had always been this way. Work during the day, sleep at night. That had been part of Titan’s original order.

But there was no reason things should remain that way. Titan was gone, and with him his miserable laws. Luna made the rules now. Luna... and Celestia.

Celestia had become everything the people needed. She was now wise and benevolent, social and compassionate. While each of them worked tirelessly to ensure that ponykind prospered- and there was a lot of work to do- Celestia seemed to get all the credit. It made sense, really. Celestia had a stronger connection to ponykind just because they were awake when she ruled. The people actually got to see her in action, raising the sun and holding court.

They respected Luna as their ruler, and even their saviour. But they loved Celestia.

Luna looked at the moon, high above where it was supposed to be in the night sky.

They would love her too, eventually.

Celestia entered her chambers several hours later. “Luna!” She called out as soon as she was through the doorway. Her pink mane flared out behind her as she skidded to a halt. “Luna, art thou in distress?”

Luna did not turn around. “I’m fine, sister.”

Celestia sounded confused. “Then why-”

“-I have decided that the night will last for another twenty-four hours. We can make it a holiday.” Luna realized that what she was doing was crazy.

Celestia’s answer was quiet. “Thou speaketh madness.”

Luna turned around to face her sister sharply. “Perhaps thou hast forgotten that I am a princess of Equestria. I know they have.” She jerked her head in the direction of the city outside, filled with sleeping occupants. “This is necessary. To remind them, and thou.”

“No.” Celestia shook her head. “I know thou hast been discontent lately, but this goes too far. This is not the way things were meant to be.”

“The way things were meant to be, Celestia? That sounds familiar.”

Her sister’s eyes narrowed. “Thou darest to compare me to him? I’m nothing like him.”

“Is that so? Because it seems to me as though thou makest the rules now. Thou decidest what is right and wrong, and ponykind worships thee for it. I give them so much, and I am ignored. They can ignore me, but they will not ignore my work.”

“I know how thou feelest, sister. I know that this is hard, that thou hast had trouble adjusting. Please, lower the moon and we can talk about this. Thou dost not have to be alone.”

Luna’s voice was soft and pleading. “Let me have this, sister. I need this. Thou canst not understand what it is like, being so alone, every day. I feel like a janitor, just keeping things clean until thou wakest up each morn. I want to be their princess. I want to rule.”

“If thou dost not lower the moon, then I will.”

It was a dangerous threat. While theoretically they could move the other’s astral body, they never had. Luna was the moon and stars, Celestia was the sun. It had always been that way. Luna was never going to let Celestia take that from her. Even if it came down to a fight.

Luna turned once again to the balcony. Siting on the stone railing in front of her was a tiny sliver of black crystal. She lifted it with her magic, and it shimmered in the moonlight.

“Thou wisheth to fight me for control?”

“If I have to.”

Luna plunged the sliver through her chest and into her heart. Instantly she felt its immense power coursing through her. “So be it,” she said.

In the middle of the clearing, the princess turned away from them. “I don’t think I will be able to finish the story. The memories are... draining. From here, I wilt tell it the traditional way.”

Rarity felt the memory spell dissolve, and was grateful for it. Luna’s memories had been disturbing, to say the least. She didn’t think she agreed with most of Luna’s decisions. How had the princess become so terrible in the space of two decades? Was Terra’s influence really so strong?

The princess began again. “We called it the Sliver of Darkness. It was what had given Terra the power to oppose Titan in their war. Hers is the only magic known to us that can actually create something from nothing. It was her strongest and most mysterious creation, and neither of us knew how it worked. I used it anyway.”

“But where it had given Terra strength, it took mine. The Sliver imprisoned me within a new consciousness, one created to mirror my own in many ways. Where I wanted my people to love me, albeit in a twisted sort of sense, she only wanted to be feared. Where I was soft and subtle, she was harsh and brash. And she was powerful. Stronger than Celestia is now.”

“Nightmare Moon,” Rarity whispered.

Luna nodded. “I was forced to watch through mine own eyes as she terrorized the kingdom I was supposed to protect. You cannot imagine my sorrow, my regret. It’s the story of my life really, harming the ponies I’m supposed to protect. It came as a relief when Celestia confronted her with the Elements of Harmony.”

“Celestia was only one half of the Elements of Harmony. I was the other. In those final moments, Celestia forgave me. She knew that I was not Nightmare Moon. She said she wanted her sister back. She was, and always has been, my only friend.”

“It was then that I discovered that despite being trapped within Nightmare Moon, I could still use the Elements. I helped Celestia banish us to the moon.”

Fluttershy spoke softly. “You used the elements to banish yourself? That’s so awful!”

“Actually,” Luna replied, “I was trying to destroy myself. Celestia was the one who made it a banishment spell. I had no idea that when I returned the new element bearers would be so powerful they could destroy the Sliver and Nightmare Moon, but leave me intact.” She looked around at them.

Applejack frowned. “About us... In your story there were a couple ponies...”

“The resemblance occurred to me last night when I was preparing the spell. I have no idea if there is any connection between ye and they, though I suppose it’s possible you’re related somehow.”

She paused, “I do know for a fact, however, that Twilight Sparkle is a descendant of Astor Coruscare, Celestia’s most trusted Lieutenant. Any other questions?”

“Yeah!” Pinkie Pie was on her feet again. “What happened to Twilight?!”

Luna frowned. “Isn’t it obvious? Twilight has been corrupted by a new Sliver of Darkness. The Sliver hath created a creature named Nihilus, who is absolutely insane. Thankfully, it did not grant her the strength that it granted me. I imagine this is why Titan chose Twilight for corruption. Had he corrupted Celestia, she would have had power to rival his own. What’s more, Nihilus has the Elements of Harmony with her, and Rainbow Dash.”

“Can we save them?” Fluttershy was biting her lip.

“If we can capture Rainbow Dash, I will be able to undo whatever spell is affecting her mind. After that, ye will need to confront Nihilus and use the Elements of Harmony with Twilight. Once we have all the element bearers back, we can work from there.”

“You mean we have to go back to Ponyville?” Applejack asked

“Actually, communications I have intercepted lead me to believe Nihilus will be moving to Cloudsdale in a week. I’m not sure why. It is then we shalt strike, if the opportunity presents itself.”

“Hold on now,” Applejack said. “You expect us just to sit around for a week when Twilight is trapped inside some crazy pony? And Dash is with her? We need to move now!”

“For once,” Rarity said, “I agree with Applejack. We can’t afford to let them suffer any longer.”

Luna did not look pleased. “We can and we will. This is not a discussion.” She stood and turned away.

Applejack got up to follow her. “You think yer in charge just because you’re an alicorn? We follow orders from one pony, and that’s Twilight.”

Luna spun around sharply. “And Twilight would send you into battle against a foe that has already claimed two of you, unprepared, just to save your friends a little discomfort?”

“Yes.”

“Then Twilight is an idiot.” Luna looked around at all of them. Rarity was speechless. Why was Luna so angry all of the sudden? Was it from her memories?

“I am too weak to fight my father, or my mother, or my brother. Ye six are the only hope this kingdom has for survival. I will not risk thine lives in a reckless attack. I will not fail Equestria again. Ye think I’m in charge because I am an alicorn? I am in charge because I am over a hundred years old, with decades of experience fighting against the greatest general ponykind has ever known. And I know our enemies better than any of ye.”

“Thou art a soldier now, whether thou likest it or not, and thou shalt do as I tell you. And right now I am telling ye to wait. If we attack Nihilus now, she will destroy us. The only way we are going to stand a chance against her is if I come at her with all my power, and the four of you take Rainbow Dash in a coordinated rescue mission. Right now, I can barely fly. That memory spell took the last of my unicorn magic. I haven’t slept in two days. I need time to regain my strength, and teach you four what you need to know. Any questions?”

The four ponies did not object.

“I know it is going to be a long week, but we do not have to like each other. We just have to win.”

-

Chapter 5: “The Plan”

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The Plan

The Plan

Nihilus frowned as the light she had been reading by was obscured. She looked up, through a hole she had made in the ceiling, to find that a cloud had passed over the sun. She was temporarily living in Ponyville’s town hall as she gathered forces, and the building had suffered substantial damage during her fight with Luna. A benefit of all the collapsed ceilings and walls was that there was lots of natural light to work by. As the cloud darkened her reading light, Nihilus grew irritated.

“I thought I told those stupid townsponies to resume their regular duties,” she said. “It’s the middle of the afternoon and the sky is still filled with clouds. Where is the weather pony?” She looked around the room, her eyes coming to rest on its only other occupant. Her pegasus plaything was huddled in a corner, shivering, her eyes wild. A trickle of drool ran from her mouth to the floor beneath her.

“Oh,” Nihilus said delicately, “right.”

The pegasus was faring much better than she had been during the sack of Ponyville. The spell was slowly doing its work, and her pet was finding herself less and less able to resist. Soon, she would be able to act at full capacity, making her much more useful in a fight. At least, Nihilus hoped she would be. She had corrupted Rainbow Dash first because she thought she was the strongest of Twilight’s friends. Hopefully the next time they encountered Luna and the others her pet would be able to do more than get kicked in the face.

Wait, what?!” Twilight Sparkle’s voice sounded sharply within her mind.

Her passenger consciousness rarely ever spoke to her, and never initiated a conversation herself. Truth be told, Nihilus didn’t like having nopony to talk to. Her only other intelligent companion was drooling in the corner, and did not count for much of a conversationalist. Nihilus was puzzled at Twilight’s sudden outburst.

“I didn’t say anything...”

“No, but you thought it. You said that book was boring and useless!”

“It is boring and useless. I’m looking for ways to quickly defeat Luna, not enchanted cuff-links.”

“That book details exactly the topic you are looking for. And it was enchantment cuffles, not enchanted cuff-links.”

“I knew that!” Nihilus shot back at her indignantly. “I just don’t care. None of this interests me.” She tossed the book onto the floor with her magic to emphasize her point. “My only goal is to get the Elements of Harmony.”

For the first time ever, she felt her passenger consciousness project something other than her voice into Nihilus’s mind. It was an emotion, a feeling. It was curiosity. Twilight Sparkle was studying her, and wanted Nihilus to know it.

The feeling made Nihilus uncomfortable, to say the least. How was Twilight able to show Nihilus her feelings at will, and read Nihilus’s thoughts? Certainly, Nihilus had more power- she was, after all, in complete control of their body and magic. Still, Twilight’s strange ability made her angry.

The feeling of curiosity lingered as Twilight spoke. “You can’t actually understand anything written on that page, can you? You don’t have it.”

“Have what?” Nihilus snapped back. She was quickly growing tired of their conversation.

“My talent. You can learn spells through magical formula like any unicorn, but you don’t understand the theory at all. You can use my magic to teleport, or force mind magic on anypony, and you know everything I knew. But you can’t put the pieces together for yourself. That book is the key to taking the elements for yourself, and you can’t use it.”

Nihilus barked out a humorless laugh. “What makes you think I’m going to believe you?” Her pet looked up, and she realized she had started speaking aloud.

If Twilight were in the room, Nihilus knew she would be giving her a flat look. “There’s a picture,” she said dryly.

Intrigued, Nihilus picked the book off of the floor with telekinesis. Twilight gave her a page number to turn to. Sure enough, the entire page was occupied by an illustration of six colorful gems, The Elements of Harmony.

“I remember this page. This was the page the book was open to when I picked it up. This is why I kept it even though it had nothing to do with war magic. But other than this picture, it doesn’t mention the Elements.”

Twilight’s voice spoke to her, sounding excited, “Not directly, no. But the reason this illustration is here is because the Elements are a mythological example of a cuffled enchantment. Turn to page sixty three again.”

Nihilus didn’t trust the pupil, but she humored her anyway. Page sixty-three turned out to be the page she was on earlier. She had to light her horn to read the cramped script without sunlight.

“That’s what this book is about: Cuffled enchantments. You remember Rarity’s blade?”

Nihilus ran a hoof along the puckered wound now marring her face. “Oh,” she said dangerously. “I remember.”

Twilight ignored her momentary rage. “Those diamonds were enchanted. Their enchantment makes it easier for Rarity to throw them around when she calls her blade, and probably makes them sharper, too. But it also makes it so that no other unicorn can take them from her.”

“Of course they can’t.” She continued to speak out loud to an empty room. “Unicorns can’t take something another unicorn is manipulating telekinetically.”Titan himself wouldn’t even be able to take control of a grain of sand that, say, Snails had a hold of. It was just the rules.

“It not ‘just the rules’,” Twilight sounded irritated. “It’s a fundamental telekinetic theory and it’s provable. In fact, that fundamental theory is probably what makes it so that you can’t grab a hold of those diamonds, even when Rarity isn’t using them.”

Nihilus knew that Twilight was probably leading her on, but the other unicorn had just revealed an interesting fact about her enemy’s weapon. “Go on,” she said, now a little more interested.

“Okay, so how would you prevent Rarity from using her blade?”

Despite being asked a question like she was a school-filly, Nihilus answered.

“I’d break it.”

“Yes!” Nihilus wondered how Twilight could be so excited about magical theory. “You simply destroy the object and the magic enchanting it will detach and dissipate. Butwhat if you wanted to use the sword for yourself?”

“I can’t, and why would I need it? My talent isn’t gems. I don’t even have a cutie mark.”

“Just hypothetically, if you wanted Rarity’s sword, magic intact, how would you get it?”

“I’d kill her.”It seemed a simple enough solution. “You’re saying I need to kill the element bearers?”Nihilus was puzzled. What was Twilight’s game?

From the corner, her pet look up in fear. “I’m not talking to you, dear,” Nihilus told her.

“You would kill her, yes, and then re-attune the enchantment to yourself. The enchantment has three primary components: the user; Rarity, the object; her diamonds, and the magic. You cannot take the artifact for yourself while the user is still alive. This is because of something called the cuffle.”

“Again with the cuff-links.”

“Cuffle,” Twilight corrected. “And I admit it’s a pretty silly word. But skilled unicorn enchanters can cuffle objects to themselves, ensuring that only they can use it.”

“You said that already.”

“Just making sure you understand.”

Nihilus gritted her teeth. “Go on.”

“So you can disenchant the magic, destroy the object, or kill the user, and the artifact become useless. But what if you add a fourth component? You add a whole new dimension to the enchantment.”

Nihilus didn’t follow. Was what Twilight was saying even possible?

“The author of that book wrote that it is theoretically possible, but most unicorns would say no. No method has ever been discovered for adding a fourth component to an enchantment, and no examples of artifacts with four components exist. Every artifact ponykind knows of is simply an object enchanted with magic, sometimes cuffled to a user.”

Nihilus was getting tired of her passenger consciousness playing schoolteacher. “Does this lesson have a point to it, or is this just what you do in your spare time?”

“The author of that book, she could think of only one example of artifacts that had more than three components. Unfortunately, those artifacts are largely considered to be a myth.”

Nihilus was instantly interested again. “The Elements of Harmony,” she said, “they have two cuff-links?”

“Cuffles,” Twilight answered flatly. “And they actually have three. The object, the magic, and the user are all cuffled to something else. The magic doesn’t actually touch a pony, or a jeweled necklace. All three components are cuffled to a central one. This way the enchantment can only be destroyed fully by knocking out that central component!”

“So I just have to destroy whatever it is they’re cuff-linked to?”

“No, because the central component isn’t another object, or a user, or a spell. It’s something totally untouchable, and completely indestructible.” Twilight’s sense of excitement spilled over into Nihilus’ consciousness. The mare really was interested in what she was talking about. “An idea,” she said simply. “Whatever made the Elements of Harmony knew that this was the most powerful magic in Equestria. They couldn’t risk it being stolen, or destroyed, so they did the impossible and enchanted an idea! You can’t smash loyalty against the wall, and you can’t break magic over your knee!”

The bottom dropped out of Nihilus’ stomach. “You’re saying I can never control the Elements,” she said out loud.

Twilight spoke slowly, as though choosing her words carefully. “Conventional unicorn wisdom would say no.”

Nihilus stomped a hoof on the floor of the broken-down office. Twilight was lying. It had to be possible.

“But I can show you how to do it. I can give you a spell.”

Nihilus scoffed. “You’ve had two days to come up with a plan. And this is your best shot? You’re just going to try to kill me.”

“I can prove it works, right now, on Rainbow Dash. You will be able to take the Element of Loyalty.”

Nihilus smiled, “Oh no I won’t. I’ll use it on us, and take the Element of Magic. You aren’t getting me to set her free.”

“How do you know I won’t try to kill us both? I already tried, once.”

Nihilus once again ran a hoof over her scar. “You won’t. Just tell me what it is you want in return for your ‘spell’, unless you honestly think I’d believe you’d give me this for free.”

“The reason I’m pointing all of this out to you is a selfish one, rest assured. If you want the Elements of Harmony, you need their current bearers alive. You can’t kill any of them.”

Nihilus did not like the idea of letting Twilight’s friends live. “I already knew that much. But after I have the Elements?”

“You could kill them, but you won’t.”

Nihilus laughed. “And why is that?”

“Because,” came Twilight’s answer. “I won’t tell you the spell until you give me your word that you won’t harm them.”

“You would put stock in my word? You are an imbecile, then.”

“You forget that I can read your mind. You have to tell me you won’t harm them, and you’ll have to mean it. If you intend for even a second to go back on your promise, I’ll know. And then no Elements of Harmony for you.”

Nihilus thought of Rarity, opening her face with a diamond blade. “No,”she answered. “I will learn the spell on my own. And then I’ll kill your friends while you watch.”

Another emotion from Twilight flooded into her thoughts: amusement. Twilight thought she was being funny. Nihilus did not like being laughed at.

“You’re going to learn the spell on your own, are you? Good luck, Naughty. It’s only a bit of theoretical magic dealing with an obscure idea in a branch of unknown enchantment. I’m sure you’ll do fine. You’ll be severing cuff-links in no time.”

The taunt was shocking. Twilight Sparkle was not, had never been, a bully. Why was she being so mean now? Nihilus felt her face burn. She was too inept to perform the spell, and they both knew it. She wished Twilight couldn’t read her thoughts. Couldn’t sense her feeling shame.

“You aren’t acting much like my counterpart,” she accused her passenger.

“Maybe you’re rubbing off on me. Which reminds me: there’s a second part of the deal, once you agree to the first.”

“I need to think! Leave me alone for a second.” Twilight complied.

Could Nihilus really do what Twilight wanted? Thinking of the unicorn’s five friends filled her with inexplicable rage. She hated them so much. She didn’t just want to kill them, she wanted to make them suffer, like Dash. That simple want drove her onward, kept her focused.

If she wanted the Elements of Harmony, however, she would have to give that up. Ultimately, the Elements were more important. She would love nothing more than to agree to Twilight’s terms and then betray her, but Twilight could read her thoughts. Nihilus had to fundamentally change her goals if she wanted the unicorn’s help. In the end, she would have to make the compromise.

“Once I have them all, I release Rainbow Dash and all your friends. Until then, however, I won’t kill them.”

Twilight must have read her thoughts and sensed her honesty. “Good. Now on to the second part of the deal. I think you’ll find this part mutually beneficial.”

Nihilus waited, intrigued. What could both of them possibly want that she would be willing to share?

“When you have all of the elements,” Twilight said quietly. “I will make a spell for you that you can use to destroy me. I will not spend eternity trapped with your thoughts. It’s already making me more like you.”

Nihilus thought back to the way Twilight had made her feel earlier, teasing her about her magic. “I agree. Now show me how to take the element of magic.”

Twilight had Nihilus write a spell formula out onto a sheet of paper. She waited as Nihilus studied the formula for several minutes. “It’s that easy?” Nihilus asked after she was finished. The spell seemed remarkably simple.

“No,” Twilight answered. “For you to cuffle an element to yourself, it must first be uncuffled from its previous user.”

“And how do I do that?”

“You can’t. The current bearer of the element has to do it by neglecting the ideal that connects them to both the magic and the object. Like when Discord hypnotized us and we couldn’t use their power.”

“So I need to make Rarity greedy, Applejack a liar, Pinkie Pie unhappy, and Fluttershy unkind?” Nihilus liked where this was going.

“Yes. I will help you do it in the most equine way possible. For now, however, your mind magic has Rainbow Dash being disloyal. Obviously I don’t have my magic. You should be able to cuffle yourself to those two Elements.”

Nihilus turned to Rainbow Dash, who hadn’t moved throughout the conversation. Which made sense, considering not a word had been said.

“My pet,” she called out. Dash’s wild eyes moved to her, unfocused. “I rescind my earlier order about killing yourself. Stop breathing.” Dash did as she was told.

“What are you doing!?” Twilight sounded enraged. “You agreed not to kill them!”

Nihilus chuckled. “I’ll take it back after I have the Element of Magic. I don’t intend for her to die, but I also need to know whether or not the spell you sent me is legitimate. Maybe I could have her eat her own wings instead.” Nihilus decided that the last idea was a good one, and made a mental note to remember it.

“Just cast the spell, it will work!”

Nihilus was surprised at Twilight’s reaction. Had the other unicorn actually given her the correct spell? Twilight had no reason not to try to kill her at least once. For all her magical talent, the mare was quite stupid.

She drew the magical crown out of null-space and cast the spell. Immediately, the gem at it’s centre changed color to an opaque black. Nihilus felt what she took to be the new connection to the element almost immediately, and then... nothing. Nothing else happened.

“You may breathe again, my pet,” she called out. “Do not attempt to take your own life.” She deposited the crown back into null-space and withdrew the lightning bolt necklace. The spell turned that one black, too. She now had two of the Elements of Harmony.

“Why give me this?” she asked her passenger. “Don’t you believe the magic of friendship will save you? What made you give up hope?”

“I can read your thoughts, remember? I know exactly what my friends are going to walk into. I’m just making the best of a bad situation.”

“Lower thine forelegs.”

Luna’s voice sounded throughout the glade. Applejack grumbled, then shifted on her legs, lowering herself slightly to the ground. Luna walked a circle around the earthpony, inspecting her stance.

“Now thine back legs are too high. I said lower thyself, not lean forward.”

Applejack shifted again. “Ah feel ridiculous.”

Rarity looked up from where she sat in a tree trimming tree branches some distance away. “That’s because you look ridiculous, dear.”

Applejack turned to respond, and Luna attacked.

She spun into Applejack’s guard and kicked the earthpony’s back legs out. Then, with remarkable dexterity, she hooked her own back legs under Applejack’s. She flapped her wings, throwing herself into the air and causing Applejack to topple forward and roll onto her back. Luna flapped her wings downward, pinning the earthpony’s back legs to the ground. Applejack looked up at her, clearly surprised at the aggression.

Luna’s horn flashed with magical energy, and a long gash appeared in Applejack’s leg. A short yelp of pain escaped the earthpony’s mouth.

“How did I beat you?” Luna asked simply.

Applejack winced. “You cheated! Ah wasn’t paying attention.”

“That does not make me a cheater, but rather thou a fool. Now get up.” She rolled off of the earthpony and stood on her two back legs again. It was a pegasus fighting stance.

Applejack groaned, and the other ponies in the glade looked on in shock. “Ah can’t get up, my leg is bleeding! What in the hay did you think you were doing!? Ah won’t be able to help you catch Dash like this!”

“Fix it.” Luna spoke the command with impatience. She saw Fluttershy approaching, no doubt to help her friend. Luna shot the pegasus a look, and she backed away. She turned back to Applejack.

Applejack twisted onto her side and looked at Luna as though she were insane. “This’ll take hours to stitch up! What’s wrong with you!”

“Listen to me very carefully, Applejack.” Luna approached the wounded mare. “I need thou to findest the strength thou use to buck apple trees. I doubt that thou hast ever focused on that strength before, so it might take some time. The faster thou findest it, however, the faster thou wilt be out of thine pain.”

Applejack winced from the pain, still looking at Luna as though she were crazy. “How am I supposed to focus when my leg is-”

“-The same way that thou wilt focus when thine enemies are bearing down upon thee. I need thou to findest that energy, and then concentrate thine mind on thine leg. Dost thou understand?”

Applejack screwed up her eyes to an almost comical degree. “Ah suppose Ah do. How am I supposed to know Ah have it? Ah always thought earthpony magic was innate, and Ah was just strong.”

“For the most part, it is. The active part, however, lets thou kick trees with incredible force. It also strengthens thine legs so that thou dost not pulverize them. It is a very powerful earthpony who canst maketh her flesh stronger than wood. This next part is difficult. Thou needst clench that magic around thine leg as though it were a muscle. I won’t lie, it may take several days-”

Applejack kicked out with her leg while the flesh around the wound bound itself together. The earthpony stood, clearly in awe of what she had just done. A soft “whoa, Nelly,” escaped her before she looked up at Princess Luna.

“Seconds,” Luna said flatly. “It taketh thou seconds. Why is it that I am hardly surprised. Now get ready again. This time, make sure thine back legs are low enough, and I won’t be able to flip you. And don’t stop to oggle the belle of the ball over there.” She nodded toward Rarity, who immediately fell out of her tree.

“Ah wasn’t ‘ogglin’, Ah was about to tell her to stuff her pretty face!” Applejack said angrily.

Rarity picked herself off the ground, brushing herself off. “I can vouch for Applejack. She was almost certainly about to say something crude and unrefined.” Her tone was indignant.

“I know that. See how defensive thou art? Try to apply that to your training, and thou might last more than two seconds. Remember that thou art going to have to win against Rainbow Dash.”

“She ain’t an alicorn, though!”

“No, but thou sayeth that she is faster than I, and knows martial arts. Pegasi have impeccable balance, and fight on two hooves. Thou canst not trip them, because they can fly. Thou canst not pin them, because they will be so much faster than thee. And if they get hold of thou, they won’t tell thou to get back up while they correct thine mistakes. You’ll get to think about your mistakes on your own on the way towards the ground. That is unless they decide to fly thee so high the air is too thin for a non-pegasi to breathe.”

“Dash wouldn’t-”

“Thou dost not know that. By now whatever spell Nihilus has cast on her will likely have complete control.” If she hasn’t murdered the poor mare. “Thou cannot expect this to work like a storybook, where she comes back, all better, because thou asketh her nicely. This is not like what happened with Discord. Mind magic is almost indiscriminately evil. And even if Dash doesn’t give it her best to kill thee, the pegasus puppets will.”

“More puppets,” Applejack breathed, “right.”

“Lots more puppets. Terra will have had a week to increase their numbers. Most will be in Canterlot, but some will be under Nihilus’ command. That pegasi will be with her is guaranteed. Hopefully she doesn’t have any unicorns. But if you see one: run. None of you have a hope against one of Terra’s greater servants. She infuses her unicorns with more power and focus than her other puppets.”

“Well if Ahm gunna lose against Dash, why bother?”

“Because you aren’t going to lose. You’re going to win. I’m going to teach you how to win, and afterwards you can brag to your returned friend about how you can take her in a fight. Let’s be honest, it’s probably something you always wondered.”

At this Applejack looked up sharply.

“Ah, I thought so. That was always the case with my sister and I.” Although that might not be a good thing. We spent two and a half decades trying to kill each other. “Now flatten thine haunches. Good. If you take all of thine weight off of one hoof, you should still stay on the ground...”

Luna spied Rarity looking disdainfully at Applejack from her tree. “Don’t give us that look,” Luna called out. “Thou art next.”

It was still overcast, and the dark grey clouds lent an extra amount of gloom to the already melancholy town square in Ponyville. Nopony went outside anymore unless they had to, for fear of being caught by Nihilus or one of her puppets, and the town was empty except for Nihilus, a pale green stallion, and another forty puppets.

Nihilus was less than impressed by the reinforcements. “I was led to believe that I would be meeting with General Esteem, not one of his lackeys.”

“General Esteem is busy leading the counter-resistance in Canterlot. The citizens in the capitol are proving much more rebellious than we would have assumed considering ponykind has known a thousand years of peace.” The lackey’s face betrayed no emotions as he spoke. He might as well have been a puppet himself.

This made Nihilus grow even more irritated. “Canterlot has rebels? Prince Empyrean cannot crush them and let Esteem do his duty?”

A look of annoyance flashed across the soldier’s face before he regained his composure. “Prince Empyrean is an alicorn, and need not concern himself with these matters. General Esteem is a talented unicorn and a master tactician. He answers to Empyrean only.”

“Oh, you precious little thing.” Nihilus chuckled. “You think your boss outranks me, don’t you? If Esteem is such a ‘talented unicorn’, there wouldn’t be a rebellion happening right under our prince’s nose.”

The soldier’s jaw stiffened. “Canterlot is the magical capitol of Equestria. There are more magical talents there than in the rest of our kingdom combined. It is a much more difficult task to subdue these rebels than it is to attack a small village.”

“Watch your tongue, boy!” Nihilus snapped. “Do you know what would happen to me if I were to send your head back to Canterlot in a box?”

The soldier paled visibly as Nihilus jerked him towards her with her magic. She brought her mouth next to his ear. “Nothing at all,” she whispered as she threw him to the ground.

She turned once again to the meagre group of puppets she had been given. “This will not suffice,” she said, “I will need pegasi to take Cloudsdale. And unicorns to subdue Celestia’s task force while I deal with the princess.”

The soldier picked himself up off the ground as though nothing had happened. Nihilus wondered if Esteem had ever threatened to kill him before. “These are only a preliminary batch of reinforcements to ensure your hold on Ponyville is secure. The rest will be delivered with your boon.”

“My boon?” Nihilus asked. She had no idea what Esteem’s soldier was talking about.

“For you services and continued loyalties, Titan has offered to grant both you and Esteem a boon. The secondary reason for my visit is to ask what you desire of your god.”

“He’s giving us presents?” Nihilus grinned. “Goodie! What can I ask for?”

“Almost anything within his or Terra’s power. Esteem was granted eternal youth, at his request.”

Anything within his or Terra’s power. Nihilus thought furiously about what she could ask for. What were Titan’s capabilities, in any case? Clearly he knew things no other pony did; Twilight knew of no way even Celestia could have granted eternal youth. Her plan to rob the Bearers of the Elements was already in motion, however, and she didn’t need anything else to accomplish it.

Nihilus didn’t necessarily need anything. There were a great deal of things, however, that she wanted. She thought of things to make the attack on Cloudsdale even more fun, things that could assure her victory against Luna and the Bearers. Things she would want after she had harvested the Elements of Harmony and used them to usurp the royal family. In the end, there was really only one thing she could ask for.

“The way thou art holding it is more or less correct against an earthpony. Against a unicorn or pegasi, however, thou wanteth to keep the blade to thine side, at an angle to thine front leg. Like so.”

Under the soft light of the night sky, Luna instructed Rarity in the art of bladecasting. Everypony was awake and in the clearing despite the late hour. While Luna instructed Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie, and Fluttershy seemed to be playing some kind of game under a tree. Luna wasn’t sure if the game involved spinning around on your head, or if Pinkie Pie had simply opted to play that way to make things more interesting.

“Now,” she said once Rarity had adjusted her stance properly and looked ready to continue. “Thou already knowest the basics, but I assume that thou hast no practical experience with the blade outside of the attack three days ago?”

Rarity looked up thoughtfully. “I haven’t any real fighting experience, no. I was under the assumption, however, that this was to be a rescue operation, not a raid. Will I really have to tussle with those uncouth brutes again?” The unicorn moved a hoof up to her neck, which was still badly bruised.

Luna found it curious that Pinkie Pie’s bruise was not healing any faster than Rarity’s, and still appeared much worse than the unicorn’s. Earthponies were supposed to heal faster than others. Applejack was strong enough to heal at will, something Luna herself had trouble with. Perhaps Pinkie Pie was simply not a strong earthpony.

“Nihilus already has upwards of fifty puppets, and will likely have more by the time she moves on Cloudsdale. We aren’t going to destroy them all,” she added, seeing the look on Rarity’s face, “But thou wilt undoubtedly encounter some, along with Rainbow Dash. Thou needst to be ready for that eventuality, especially since the others don’t want to fight.”

It was true. While Rarity and Applejack had been willing to receive Luna’s crash courses in pony-on-pony combat, Pinkie Pie had refused, cheerfully telling Luna that she wasn’t going to hurt another pony. The princess had not even bothered asking Fluttershy. The poor mare broke into tears when birds were impolite to her. It was pathetic.

“You realize, of course, that I am only going to use this-” Rarity twirled her glimmering blade- “on puppets?”

Luna sighed. It was a topic she’d been hoping to avoid. “Rarity, I know thou dost not want to hurt anypony. None of us do. But sometimes we do not have a choice. There will be real, living ponies who side with Nihilus and Empyrean. And if it comes down to it, if thou must choose between them or you, well... we are at war.”

“I could give up my ideals for Sweetie Belle,” the unicorn said quietly. “But not for you, princess. I’m sorry, but I’d imagine Applejack feels the same way.”

Luna could see that she wasn’t going to get through to the other pony. “We’ll talk about this again later. For now, show me a roll. Go left when I come at thee.”

Rarity scoffed, clearly apprehensive.

“What is the matter?” Luna asked, “afraid to get dirty?”

“It’s huge!” Nihilus exclaimed, “how did you build this in a matter of days?”

Nihilus was some distance outside Ponyville, and before her loomed a massive complex constructed from bleak gray stone. The fortress was certainly imposing; it had numerous bastions and crenellations along its exterior, and the entrance in front of her was nearly three ponies tall. There were no lights shining out of the large doorway, and she could not see very far inside.

The two unicorn puppets standing at the entrance to the complex looked at her with blank expressions. One of them spoke:

“Queen Terra constructed it herself with alicorn magic. The magic is what gives it the unique properties you requested.”

Nihilus regarded the enormous structure appreciatively. “Well that makes sense, as nopony could ever move something this large with unicorn magic.” Alicorn magic could move the sun and the moon; of course it could move this comparatively small fortress.

Nihilus walked past the unicorn puppets to enter the fortress. As she moved into the darkened hallway, glass orbs lining the walls responded to her presence by emitting a bright glow, illuminating her passageway. She heard hoof-steps behind her, and turned to see the two unicorns following her inside. Nihilus was perplexed, but said nothing. She knew that unicorn puppets were supposed to be stronger than the others, but that did not explain how they were able to follow her without being told.

One of the puppets spoke. “The fortress is split into sections. The lower two levels consist of smaller rooms where you can store troops and supplies. The top level is smaller, and contains only a single large hall. That room is where you are intended to direct the citadel and hold audiences with captive rebels. The tower above it contains your personal chambers and is the final section of this citadel. As you are a true pony, your rooms have been stocked and furnished.”

As they walked, they passed numerous small doorways set into the stone walls of the hallway. Eventually, the hallway opened into a larger, circular room, lights flaring on to illuminate its dimensions. Three other hallways split off from the room, no doubt leading to the three other entrances to the fortress.

“How do I get to the other levels? Where are the stairs?”

Surprisingly, the unicorn answered her question. “Ramps run along the exterior of the structure. Shall we show you, mistress?”

Nihilus smiled when he used the word “mistress”. “Yes,” she said simply.

The unicorns led her along another one of the hallways, but before coming to an exit, they turned into one of the identical doorways and led her to a set of stairs that brought them outside and onto a crenellated rampart. There, the unicorns stopped.

“Keep going,” Nihilus said. “Take me to my chambers.” It seemed that the puppets still needed some prompting. Her servants complied, moving along the battlement until they entered another hallway. The second level looked similar to the first.

They quickly turned again and ascended another set of stairs leading up to another rampart. This one led around the exterior of the fortress as well, and the rampart above the first level was visible below them. As they walked, Nihilus questioned the unicorns.

“Why do we have to walk around a quarter of the fortress to ascend to the next level? Wouldn’t it be simpler just to go straight up?”

One of the puppets answered her. She wasn’t sure if it had been the one to speak earlier or not. “King Titan’s symbol is the circle. When Terra constructed this fortress, she made it circular so as to represent the pony it serves. When you discover your cutie mark, your sigil will be your mark within a circle. Prince Empyrean’s will be as well. The fact that the pathway to the upper chamber is a long one will make the complex easier to defend from earth ponies and unicorns.”

“I thought Terra made this fortress. Why does it’s architecture follow Titan’s iconography?”

“Terra is Titan’s puppet, just as we are yours.”

Nihilus hadn’t really cared about any of the first bit. She wasn’t worried about the shape of the fortress, or about Titan. All she cared about was the fact that when the remaining bearers attacked, she would have an additional edge.

At last they came to the third level. It was smaller than the other two because of the way the fortress had been built, tier upon tier. The upper floor seemed vast, however, because it consisted of only one giant, circular room. “Cages,” Nihilus said, noticing the metal enclosures along one section of the wall. “Those will come in handy. I suppose the throne is for me?” The centre of the room was a raised platform, the centre of which was occupied by a large chair, made out of the same stone that composed the rest of the fortress.

“The chair, yes. You will notice that each of this room’s four doorways open up to smaller balconies, rather than a battlement that surrounds the entire level. The balcony that leads to your personal chambers is this one.”

The tower turned out to be a squat cylinder protruding from the centre of the fortress. Nihilus supposed that there was no need for additional height, considering the structure in question. Her chambers were colorful and luxurious, dominated by a circular red bed and wall hangings. She noticed that the hanging directly above her bed was Titan’s sigil, a white circle on a field of black. Evidently the alicorn wanted to remind her of where her power came from.

“This boon is a gift,” she said softly. “To remind me of my ultimate allegiance should Empyrean ever rebel as Celestia did. Titan doesn’t trust his son. He wants to make sure Esteem and I are his side.” The alicorn’s mistrust was misplaced however. He should have been watching Nihilus, not Empyrean.

The puppet that spoke did not use its regular emotionless voice. Instead, Nihilus detected a hint of hesitation in the unicorn’s words. “The fortress simply serves to remind you of who you ultimately serve. Who all true ponies ultimately serve. It is also a gift of appreciation from the king to you, for your contributions to his cause.”

Nihilus had been the one to perform the ritual that granted Celestia’s magic to Prince Empyrean. Titan had not said why he needed her to complete the spell.

“Where is Titan now?” she asked, regarding the circle. She knew that Prince Empyrean was ruling in Canterlot, and supposedly having trouble with rebels. Titan, however, had vanished after defeating Princess Celestia, and taken his wife with him.

“The king has taken the queen with him to the Everfree Forest to complete his works. He has left Empyrean in charge of ponykind.”

“Why is it you can speak so well? I thought puppets were stupid.”

“The queen created us with more intellect than other ponies so that we may better focus our abilities in combat. We are designed to emulate magically talented unicorns, and require the additional intellect to cast our many spells. It is far more taxing for the queen to create a unicorn puppet than an earthpony or pegasus because of the extra power she invests in us.”

“So you’re stronger and smarter than the others?”

“Yes, mistress.” The puppet that answered her was not the one who had been speaking earlier.

“I see. Do you have names?”

The puppet thought for a moment before answering in its emotionless tone, “I am Puppet.”

“Creative,” Nihilus said flatly. She had come up with her own name as well. Nihilus Nix Naught. She thought it had a certain ring to it, even if it meant nothing. “And you?” she turned to the other puppet.

“I am Puppet,” it stated simply.

Nihilus laughed. “Of course you are. Do either of you have free will?”

“We can act of our own volition, but we still desire only to serve you in all things. We do not have wants ourselves.”

Nihilus regarded the puppet for a moment. “Stop breathing,” she commanded.

The unicorn complied, remaining perfectly still as it held its breath. Nihilus turned to his companion. “You have no sense of self-preservation, yes? So ‘Puppet’ here will hold his breath until he dies?”

The other puppet appeared completely unfazed as his partner continued to not breathe. “Not until he dies, mistress. He will likely just fall unconscious and start breathing again.”

“I suppose you’re right. You may breathe again,” she said, speaking to the unicorn on the ground. She turned back to the other puppet. “When do the other reinforcements arrive?”

“The next batch of puppets will be complete in two days. Terra will give you a cut of that group as well.”

Nihilus began the descent from her quarters to the central chamber. “Good,” she said, “Then we can proceed as planned and take Cloudsdale in three days’ time.” If the settlement in the sky had heard any news concerning Ponyville and Canterlot, they would not resist her. Still, the pegasi needed to be taught to fear their new ruler.

“We can allow ourselves and other earthponies to walk upon the clouds, mistress, should you wish it.”

“I will. But for now, I require only one other thing of you before I retire for the evening.”

“Anything you ask, mistress.”

A grin spread across her face. “How do I make it fly?”

Despite her skill and power when it came to flying, Luna’s descent back into the trillium glade was sloppy and tedious. Her wings laboured to stall her awkward fall, and she panted with exertion. Thankfully, Fluttershy saw her and flew up to give her a hoof.

It was late afternoon, and the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon. Luna had just come back from doing reconnaissance in Ponyville. She had also offered to pick the other ponies up any supplies that they might need for the coming rescue operation. The second task was the source of her current overburdened state. She had travelled the considerable distance between Ponyville and the glade laden with three heavy sacks of goods.

She had not expected the Element bearers to ask for so much; and they hadn’t, really. Fluttershy, Applejack, and Pinkie Pie had not asked for anything at all. Rarity, however, had given Luna a list of items two pages long. The pages had also been double sided. Where the unicorn had gotten the paper, Luna didn’t know. It been difficult, however, to remain hidden in town while collecting the absurd amount of things that Rarity had requested.

The princess grunted as she dumped the contents of the sacks into the centre of the clearing. “What dost thou need these things for, Rarity? Tis’ merely a bunch of frivolous nonsense.”

Rarity daintily trotted over and placed a hoof to her chest. “Nonsense?” The unicorn made a face. “These items are imperative, princess. They are absolutely vital to the success of our mission. As a former commander, I thought surely you would understand.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “Of course, Rarity. Please forgive me for not seeing why this-” she levitated an item out of the bag. “-two litre bottle of glossy and glamorous mane and crest shampoo is vital to our success.”

Rarity sniffed. “Princess, surely you cannot expect me to fight the forces of evil without looking my best! I haven’t been to the spa in almost a week! In any case, not all of this for me.” The unicorn turned, “Pinkie, dear!” she called out. From the other side of the glade, Pinkie Pie looked up.

“Chin up!” Rarity called out sharply. Pinkie Pie shot to all fours and stood at attention as Rarity pulled a scarf out of one of the sacks and tied it around her neck. “This should help to cover up that horrible bruise of yours.”

“Pink!” Pinkie Pie observed. “My favorite! Thanks, Rarity!”

“Thank the princess, dear. I also had her pick up a couple of board games to entertain you while we train.” Rarity stacked the board games neatly outside their sack.

Pinkie Pie cheered and merrily carried the pile of games away as Rarity tied her own scarf around her neck. “A little strange, wearing a scarf in summer, but I think I can pull it off,” she said to herself.

Luna gave an exasperated sigh, “Does anything here have anything to do with the rescue operation?” she asked through gritted teeth.

Rarity looked up as though she had just noticed the princess’ presence. “Well of course, princess! These-” she pulled out various materials, a needle, and thread. “-are for me. I’m going to make myself a saddlebag to carry my blade diamonds around in! I’m thinking it will sit farther back than a normal saddlebag, perhaps give it a lower clasp...

Luna’s eyes narrowed as the unicorn trailed off. “Thou meanest to sayeth that all thou really needed was a saddlebag? I just hauled all this junk through the air for three hours, and all thou didst need was a saddlebag?!”

“No!” Rarity threw the half a dozen objects she had been manipulating away from herself. She turned to face the princess, and Luna saw that her eyes were burning with rage. The other ponies looked over, startled at the outburst. “I did not need a saddlebag! I needed to make something, don’t you understand?!”

Luna took a step back from the unicorn. Why was Rarity acting this way?

“Pinkie Pie needs to play, Fluttershy needs something to care for.” She drew a long roll of canvas out of one of the bags and unrolled it. Then, she cast her blade, and fourteen diamonds shearing through the canvas she held in front of her. “You might enjoy this, maybe it reminds you of your glory days, princess-” Rarity divided the canvas into pieces, then split her blade and wrapped a piece around each diamond, smothering its edges in cloth. The diamonds did not cut through the cloth. “But the rest of us don’t like sitting around here doing nothing while Twilight and Rainbow Dash are in torment!”

Luna let the words wash over her. Not only was she surprised at Rarity’s sudden outburst, but she had no idea how to react. She could treat Rarity as a subject, and try to be firm and resolve whatever her problem was. She could also treat Rarity as a soldier, and simply punish her for questioning the chain of command. Neither seemed appropriate in her situation.

Applejack spoke before Luna could think of anything to say. “We wouldn’t have a hope of rescuing Twilight and Dash without the princess an’ you know it, Rarity. They’re the strongest of any of us. She’s only trying to help.”

Rarity gave a hmph. “You would defend her now, wouldn’t you Applejack?”

“Course I would! You’re being mighty stupid, and Luna is my friend!”

Luna considered interrupting their argument, but thought better of it. Rarity and Applejack knew each other better than she knew them, and could likely sort their feud out on their own. She had done enough harm already, apparently.

Rarity was fuming. “Twilight and Dash are your friends! The princess is your commander! You saw her memories with the rest of us, you don’t think she’d trade your life away if circumstances called for it?!”

“Hay no Ah don’t think that! What’s wrong with you, Rarity?”

Did Rarity hate Luna because she was in charge? Did the unicorn think she could do a better job? Or did she hate her because Luna had asked them to wait? Certainly the unicorn was under a lot of stress, but she had put her life in danger before. Was it just boredom, then? Rarity had said she needed to make something, whatever that meant.

“Of course she would, Applejack! That’s what commanders do.” The unicorn was breathing quickly now, and blinking tears away from her eyes. “No matter how much they’re supposed to love somepony, they can...” She sobbed as she sat in the grass and released her sword. The covered diamonds fell to the ground around her. “They can...”

“Rarity,” Applejack sat next to the unicorn in the grass. “Is this about your parents?”

Luna watched the two with growing confusion. Had Rarity’s father sent her mother to die? Was that where Rarity’s sudden hatred for the princess came from? Did Luna remind her of her father when they trained? She decided that she shouldn’t have been so pushy when it came to the sacks of shampoo. The decision seemed inconsequential, with the way the argument had suddenly escalated. Celestia wouldn’t have minded about the shampoo. What would Celestia do about Rarity’s outburst?

Rarity stood, regaining her composure almost instantly. “The Carousel Boutique is gone, Applejack. I am homeless and poor. The only thing I have of value to my name is the blade. I am the Element of Generosity with nothing to give.”

“Ah know things are hard, Rarity, but that doesn’t give you any right to go off on the princess like that.”

Luna decided enough was enough, “yes it does, Applejack.”

Both ponies looked up, evidently surprised to hear Luna’s opinion.

“I have been treating thee like a soldier, Rarity. Admittedly, tis all I know how to do. I’ve only really had one friend in my life, whereas I’ve had tens of thousands of soldiers and many more subjects. Thou art no a fighter, however, thou art a fashion designer.” The unicorn continued to eye her warily. “If we’re going to win this war, we’re going to do it with the Elements of Harmony. With friendship, not violence, as silly as that sounds. So perhaps you don’t need to be soldiers.”

Rarity wiped the tears from her face. “I’m sorry I let everything get to me. I assure you princess, I am usually much more collected. I don’t know what came over me.”

“I understand, Rarity.” Come to think of it, the unicorn was much more collected than Luna would have expected of somepony her age, all things considered. She was, after all, homeless and destitute, with the fate of the world depending on her.

“There’s some rope in there for you, Applejack.” Rarity nodded to one of the sacks. “And some birdseed for Fluttershy. I also got this canvas to wrap my blade so that we can train with it.” Rarity once again cast her blade, the cloth-covered diamonds forming a shaft in front of her. “Now I can hit you without worrying about slicing you to ribbons.”

“Tis... thoughtful of you.”

Rarity gave her a weak smile.

Pinkie Pie cartwheeled over to them, somersaulting into the air and landing with a flourish. She had incredible balance and speed for an earthpony. “So!” the pink pony exclaimed. “Who wants to play a game!” Fluttershy landed softly beside her. “I have Monopony!”

Luna suspected Rarity and Applejack agreed to play only to help them simmer down after the previous conversation. The ponies took positions as Pinkie Pie set up the board with lightning speed and precision, declaring herself the “banker”.

“You gunna play, princess?” Applejack motioned for her to sit down beside her.

“I... um...” Luna had never played a board game before. She hadn’t even realized that they intended for her to join them until Applejack asked. What was it she had she said? Maybe we don’t need to be soldiers.

“What is it?” Applejack prompted her.

“I do not know the rules...”

“I’ll teach you!” Pinkie Pie said, “You even have your own piece because this is a new edition!” Luna caught a tiny figurine of herself with telekinesis as Pinkie Pie threw it at her. It was metal, and incredibly detailed, probably crafted with magic by a unicorn. It even had her sparkly little shoes.

“So this is me?”

“Yep! You move it around on these squares here, see? We all start here. I’m the top hat!”

“So those are supposed to be bits?” Luna regarded the cardboard coins, “Why dost thou have so many?”

“Those aren’t mine, silly filly! That’s the bank!”

“And what is that?”

“What’s what?”

“The object thou art hiding under you back hoof.”

“Hey!” Applejack exclaimed. “Are you cheatin’, Pinkie?”

“No! Its just a spare piece. We only have five players so it’s the only piece left.”

“So then why art thou hiding it?” Luna was confused. Was it part of the game? Was Pinkie Pie just being strange like usual?

“It isn’t important, guys. Let’s just play.” Pinkie made to roll the dice.

“Oh, just show her the piece, Pinkie!” Rarity said, clearly exasperated. “What reason do you have to hide it?”

With a guilty expression, Pinkie Pie slowly extended her hoof. In it was a tiny, extremely detailed figurine.

It was of Celestia.

Of course, Luna thought, if there’s one of me there has to be one of Celestia. Her sister had loved games of all kinds. While Luna never played against her, she understood that Celestia almost always won. When they were in their teens Celestia would sit out in the courtyard on days off and play two or three games with multiple opponents at once. Luna had originally thought they were letting her win because she was their princess, but later other ponies had begun to gather just to watch her play, and Luna realized that Celestia was really just that good. Even at such a young age, Celestia had been attracting her subjects’ attention better than Luna ever could.

Now she was dead. Luna didn’t have time to mourn her. She first had to save the kingdom, and then rule it. She wasn’t sure she could do either, but she knew where to start. Where Celestia would have started, at least.

She was going to play Monopony.

The other four ponies had been looking at her in silence for some time while she regarded the figurine.

“It is okay. We can still play, everyone.”

“You sure, sugarcube?”

“I’m sure, AJ. But Pinkie?”

“Mhmm?”

“Can I... keep this?” Luna nodded towards the tiny figurine of Celestia. It was silly, really, but lately she had found herself wondering what Celestia would do more and more. Maybe having the game piece would help.

“Of course you can! Now we roll to see who goes first, see...” Pinkie Pie cast the dice across the board. “Twelve!” she cheered.

Nihilus received General Esteem on one of her fortress balconies. The soldier approached in a carriage pulled by two pegasi puppets. He stepped from the carriage to the balcony.

Esteem was a pure white stallion with a blood-red mane. The mane was effeminately curly, but ended in masculine spikes that framed his sharp features. His cutie mark appeared to be three short, razor sharp spikes of metal. He wore a tightly fitted harness, no doubt to hold the fourteen shards of platinum-iridium that made up his blade, and on his shoulders sat epaulets, each displaying five stars surrounded by circles.

Nihilus despised him. “You look younger than you did last time I saw you, General. I didn’t think you were so vain.”

“I indulge in a healthy amount of narcissism, Nihilus.” He looked around at her fortress. “From the looks of your ‘gift’ you indulge in a more than a healthy amount of megalomania.” The general regarded her coolly. “You also look different. Last time I saw you, you looked just like Twilight Sparkle. Who ruined your face?”

Nihilus had not wanted him to ask that particular question. “Who do you think?”

“Ah, of course,” he said simply. The general gave something that could barely be taken for a smile, showing a small portion of his perfectly white teeth. “I’ve never been so proud. Perhaps next time she will do me a favor and take your whole head. But it is not just your face that has changed. Your coat is black now.”

“I figured I’d color-code things for your convenience,” Nihilus replied nonchalantly.

“Your right eye is much brighter than your left, and the pupil is becoming a slit. In fact, the iris is almost glowing. It is a different color, too. Closer to red than purple.”

Nihilus hadn’t known about those changes. The Sliver was changing Twilight’s appearance quite a bit, it seemed.

“I think the asymmetry compliments my aesthetic.” She lied.

“It does.” She was surprised to hear him agree. “Your ears have also curved. They look sharper now.”

“Is there a point to this visit other than prattling on about how menacing I look?”

Esteem did not react. “I have come to deliver these pegasi to your control and check up on things. The royals would like to know what the Sliver is doing to somepony who is not an alicorn. They know it didn’t amplify Twilight’s power by much, but they are curious as to whether or not the magic is unstable in any way. Empyrean is also growing agitated with the uprising in Canterlot. I hope you have good news for him.”

“I will have the remaining rebels within the week. Rainbow Dash is already dealt with.” Nihilus tugged on her pet’s magical leash. The pegasus made a perfect landing beside her, coming to a low crouch and barely making a sound despite the speed at which she had been flying. “Isn’t she just adorable? Have you thought of a name yet, pet?”

The pegasus did not hesitate before answering. “Spike?”

Nihilus’ eyes narrowed. “What made you choose that name?”

The pegasus realized she was in trouble, and her eyes grew fearful. “I just thought... I’m your pet... and you had a pet named Spike once, I can almost remember, so I-”

“I hate it. Pick something else. Now tell General Esteem here your purpose.”

“To be cruel and merciless. I will further your goals and kill your enemies.”

Esteem regarded the creature with disgust. The look that he gave Rainbow Dash, however, was nothing compared to the way he looked at Nihilus. “Do that to my daughter,” he said quietly, “and I will kill you, parasite.”

Nihilus let out a humorless laugh. “You and every pony here couldn’t take me, Esteem.”

“We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?”

“What makes you say so? We’re on the same side, general.” Much as Nihilus would love to make Esteem one of her pets, the general would have to wait until she had the Elements of Harmony.

“Don’t think that I don’t know you’re planning something, Naught. I’m just waiting for you to make your move. And when you do, it will be me Empyrean sends to take care of you. There’s more to single combat than being a perfect ten on the Coruscare scale. I’m going to make you beg for mercy, girl.”

“And I’m going to turn you into a slobbering dog, pretty-boy. You’re going to do anything for a treat. I’ve had this one-” she nodded sharply towards her still-nameless pet. “-Eating the books that I finish with. They’re full of all sorts of terrible spells that we wouldn’t want to fall into the wrong hands, you see.”

It was a lovely use of her pet, Nihilus thought. Twilight was reviled by the idea of destroying a book, and even more reviled at the sight of what was once Rainbow Dash forcing parchment down her throat simply because Nihilus told her to.

The general turned away from her sharply. “Our business is done here,” Esteem said, climbing back into his carriage. “I have seen enough to fill my report to the prince. Take your pegasi and go play in your dollhouse like a good little child.”

Nihilus considered destroying his carriage as he flew away, but though better of it. She would have him, have them all, soon enough. She just needed the Elements of Harmony first. Where were Twilight’s friends?

They were in Cloudsdale.

It had taken several trips or vertigo-inducing flights to move the entire crew to the sky settlement, carried out in the dead of night. Applejack wasn’t exactly afraid of heights, but having nothing but several thousand feet between her and the ground as she dangled uselessly from Luna’s legs had not been a pleasant experience. The princess had used some magic to allow them all to walk on clouds, then created a tiny hollowed out portion of cloud for them to wait the rest of the night out in. Despite the late hour, nopony had gone to sleep.

Luna was in the centre of their makeshift hideout, and the four ponies gathered around her by the light of her horn. Applejack didn’t know whether the princess was using pegasus or unicorn magic, but Luna had sculpted a perfect replica of Cloudsdale out of cloud-stuff, which sat in the centre of the room. She marked locations on the model as she spoke to them.

“Nihilus will likely announce herself in the plaza, like she did in Ponyville.” The section of Cloudsdale representing the plaza filled with a blue light. “I’m counting on the fact that once she knows we’re here, she’ll spread her puppets out to look for us. Hopefully, that will include Rainbow Dash. If Nihilus decides to keep Rainbow Dash close, though, ye four will have to leave Rainbow Dash to me as well. I won’t risk letting ye get close to her, she’s just too dangerous. Last time we fought she hurt me enough to kill the lot of you several times over, Applejack not included.”

Applejack frowned at the princess’ estimation of her abilities. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to find out just how much punishment she could take. “If you’re responsible for Dash and Nihilus, then what do we all do?”

“Again, this is only if she doesn’t send Dash after ye while I distract her. I’m fairly certain she will. If she doesn’t, or if anything else goes wrong, ye four will get out as fast as you can. Ye all remember how to find our secret entrance?”

The four ponies nodded in unison.

“Good. I doubt Nihilus will expect you all to hide right here in Cloudsdale. My spell will only work for the next couple of days, though, so you’ll have to have Fluttershy take ye down by then if I get captured or killed. Oh, don’t give me that look, I am well aware of my own mortality. If this ends badly, I need to know ye four will be able to continue the fight.” Luna levitated the figurine of her sister, turning it around in front of her face as she worked her mouth. “Celestia was always better at planning than I . She’d find a way to make it so that even if her enemies won, she won more.”

“You’re doing fine, princess,” Fluttershy said.

Luna gave the pegasus a tiny smile before continuing. “As loath as I am to break up our only two fighters, Rarity, I plan on putting thee here-” she marked a point on the model “-with Fluttershy. Applejack and Pinkie will take the higher ground here. This way, regardless of where the pegasi fly, they’re bound to run into two of you.”

“I think Fluttershy and I will be just fine, don’t you darling?” Rarity said. “My only concern is for you, princess. The last time you fought Nihilus-”

“The last time I fought Nihilus I was already exhausted from escaping my mother the night beforehand. And I had to worry about protecting a certain unicorn. This time I think that little parasite will be surprised.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose there is that little tidbit, isn’t there.”

“In any case, tomorrow is the big day. Our only goal is to rescue Rainbow Dash, but I will not lie to you. If we succeed, and the five of ye use the Elements on Nihilus, it will kill her, just as they killed Nightmare Moon. I figured I should let you all know that beforehand. It’s the only way to save Twilight, but it’s also thine choice to make.”

Silence dominated the room. Applejack had been waiting all week. Despite the danger they were in, she felt a little... excited. “She took Rainbow Dash,” she said coldly.

“And blew up my home,” Rarity added.

“And she has Twilight.” Fluttershy’s voice wasn’t angry like theirs, just sorrowful.

Pinkie Pie said nothing, but her eyes narrowed and she growled.

Luna tucked the figurine of her dead sister under the necklace she wore as part of her royal regalia, letting it press against her. “It’s settled, then,” she said simply. “As the only princess of Equestria in a time of war, I grant ye all the power to act in my name without fear of Equestrian law.”

The four other ponies in the room shifted uncomfortably, Applejack included. Luna looked at them each in turn, meeting their eyes before she spoke again. “Nihilus Nix Naught,” she said, “needs to die.”

-

Chapter 6: The Battle of Cloudsdale

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The Battle of Cloudsdale

The Battle of Cloudsdale

It was afternoon, and Cloudsdale sat high in the sky, basking in the gleaming rays of Empyrean’s sun. Its native pegasi flew about, soaring to and fro between the austere white columns that were a staple of the city’s architecture. Ponies milled about on the surface of the clouds, catching breaks between their duties combining hues into rainbows and shaping precipitation into rainclouds. High above any dirt on the ground, the city gave off an overwhelming sense of cleanliness, and was almost a uniform white. The achromatic radiance of the city was broken by the occasional stream of rainbow essence that flowed from the upper tiers of the ouropolis, creating a favorable contrast.

The flying citadel broke through the permanent clouds that made up the base of the city from beneath. It tore its way upward, causing several structures to collapse and tumble into the open sky below. Pegasi frantically flew to avoid the debris and escape the collapsing structures. Ponies who had been doing nothing rushed to the scene, overtaken by curiosity, to observe from a safe distance. In moments, the bustling and orderly city was thrown into chaos.

In the city’s central plaza, under the shadow of the dark citadel, a black pegasus dropped to the ground, managing a perfect landing despite having fallen at a speed that would make most pegasi envious. Slowly, her gaze took in her surroundings, her eyes evenly moving from left to right. The ponies around her and above her froze at her appearance. Even though most of them did not know her personally, they had still heard the stories. There was only one black pegasus in the world.

“Gather!” the dark pegasus shouted, and her voice carried to the far edges of the plaza. The surrounding ponies did not need to be told twice. Slowly and uneasily, they landed and formed a crowd that stood in the citadel’s looming shadow. The closest ones formed a circle around the dark pony, and she moved, setting herself slightly off of the circle’s centre, closer to the citadel. The ponies around the pegasus waited, talking amongst themselves in hushed tones and looking around nervously. They clearly knew about what had happened to Ponyville. They were obviously terrified.

The dark pegasus didn’t speak from her place surrounded by the other pegasi. The tension built as nothing else happened, rising to almost unbearable levels. Just as the moment would have ceased to be tense and become boring, however, over a hundred puppets swarmed outward from the dark citadel that had speared itself through the heart of Cloudsdale. Pegasi flew from its upper tiers and then landed amongst the the terrified crowd below. Earthponies stormed from its forward facing entrances and formed ranks in front of the flying fortress. The crowd of pegasi shrank away from the intimidating soldiers. All of the puppets faced inward, at a point just in front of and above the dark pegasus.

She appeared with a crack that reverberated throughout the city, and a pinpoint burst of dark energy. She levitated, floating a dozen feet off of the ground so that every pony could see her arrive. Her mane, warped even further by the Sliver of Darkness, was a twisting mass of pure black, shot through with a single streak of sanguine. Her left eye was a shining purple, but her right was an iris of the same red as her streak, burning around a slitted pupil. A still-unhealed slash ran along her face. Slowly, she lowered herself, never once looking at the pegasi of Cloudsdale until her hooves touched the hardened cloud that made up the plaza’s “ground”. As she touched down, she gracefully lowered her head, closing her eyes softly and letting her mane burn more dimly. Then, she suddenly brought her head up sharply and glared at the citizens of Cloudsdale. The ponies, startled, drew back a step, and a ripple of motion moved through the crowd.

Nihilus loved a good entrance.

She gave a cold, humorless laugh, then began to address the crowd. “Judging by your reactions, my reputation precedes me. I will assume then, that you have all heard of that little trouble I caused in Ponyville about a week ago, so believe me when I say that if any of you disobey me, or keep me from what I want, the destruction I will bring upon you will make the incident in Ponyville seem tame. The first act of any survivors will be to rename Cloudsdale to the much more fitting ‘Dale.’”

She spoke airily, striding in front of the many winged ponies of the ouropolis, pausing occasionally to stare one down for her own amusement. “It is safe to assume, then, that you will have all heard of the new King, Titan, the Queen, Terra, and your new ruler in Canterlot and replacement for Celestia, Prince Empyrean.” None of the ponies in the crowd gave any visible or audible reaction to the news.

“Since it has been a week, and you likely know all of these things, I’ll get to the real reason I am here. I’m not sure if any of you have heard of the “natural order.” It’s the way things were before Princess Celestia and her sister Luna stole Titan’s throne, and it is the way things will be now that Celestia is dead. While the new rules are full of all sorts of exciting little things, part of the natural order is that ponies are no longer allowed to control the weather.”

At this, the citizens of Cloudsdale finally gave her a reaction. Some gasped, some spoke to their neighbors in low tones, and some simply stared on with looks of horror and despair. Nihilus drank in their helplessness and their dying hope. She didn’t like working under Empyrean because she didn’t like having superiors. The job itself was wonderful.

“So,” she continued, “to summarize: your god is dead, most of you are now out of work, and any objections or oppositions will be met with so much force you will feel re-enlightened when it comes to the term ‘overkill’. Any questions?”

None of the pegasi spoke.

“Come now!” Nihilus placed a hoof under the nearest ponies chin. “What I’m telling you is horribly unfair! You’re being mistreated and tossed aside like refuse! Your entire world is about to change for the worse. I was hoping I would get to make an example out of at least one of you.”

She gave a little moue and roughly pushed the pegasus she had been holding away. “Nopony wants to prove their bravery and stand for what is right and true? How disappointing. I really don’t have anything else to do today. Sadly, it’s understandable, considering what I did to the last pegasus I called ‘enemy.’” She waved a hoof in her pet’s direction. “Take heart, my pet. You get to stay my only and favorite toy. There isn’t a pegasus here willing to oppose me.”

“What about an alicorn?” The voice came from deep within the crowd, somewhere behind her.

Slowly, Nihilus smiled, overjoyed at the fact that her day had just gotten much, much more interesting. She turned around slowly, first looking lazily over her shoulder, then moving her legs to turn herself and face her adversary head-on.

Luna emerged from the crowd just as Nihilus finished turning to face her. Her mane was no longer a cluster of individual strands of hair, but rather a deep, waving cloud of stars, flowing downward from her tiara. She stood taller than everypony in the plaza, including Nihilus, much to her displeasure. The princess held her chest out proudly, maintaining a regal posture as she met Nihilus’s look with her own, much more intense, glare.

“You know what the biggest difference is, between you and I, Luna?” Nihilus said with a little smile.

“Wings and a pretty face?” the princess answered her coolly, with her own slight smile.

Nihilus was a little annoyed by the taunt. “Showmanship,” she said. “I demolish half a dozen buildings arriving in a flying castle that casts an ominous shadow over half of the central plaza. You only arrive after I give you a perfect entrance cue, and even then you just trot on up to me as though I’m a casual acquaintance. It’s insulting, really.”

The sun went out.

It was as though somepony had slowly slid a shutter over Empyrean’s blazing sphere. Suddenly, it wasn’t daylight out anymore, but rather closer in appearance to night. It looked as though the sun, unable to shine directly at them, cast its light sideways, forming a bright white ring around a central black disc. Cloudsdale was plunged into an eerie demi-night.

“Go on again,” Luna said loudly, “about casting an ominous shadow.”

Nihilus magically sent a pulse of intention out to her minions. They were here. They had to be. She turned to her pet as her puppets took to the sky and galloped away across the plaza. “They’re here,” she barked. “Find them.” Her pet shot into the air and joined the swarm of other black pegasi.

As she did this, Luna called out to the crowd in her booming voice. “Citizens of Cloudsdale!” she said, “take thine loved ones and find someplace safe!”

In the flurry of activity that followed, Nihilus and Luna once again turned to face each other. They were less than thirty feet apart.

“Tell us more about the infantile little flying castle our father granted thee.” Luna had begun to use the majestic plural, and she spoke in low, venomous tones. “Give orders to those wind-up soldiers that our mother lets thee play with. Attack us with the magic thou stoleth from our sister’s star pupil. Thine name suits you, Nihilus. Without all of thine little toys, thou art merely an insane monster with an ugly face. Thou art nothing.”

The insults stung. Twilight chose that moment to make herself heard: “Luna one, Nihilus zero. She’s pretty much got you there, Naughty.”

“Shut up!” Nihilus shouted suddenly, jerking her head to the side as though she could shake the voice out of her mind. Luna raised an eyebrow. Nihilus looked back at the princess. “I am more than ten times older now than I was the last time you and I fought, Princess,” she spat.

“And we are fully rested, and have double the strength we came at you with then. Thou didst not truly think thou wert our match, did thee? Even the weakest alicorn can take the strongest unicorn on a good day. We are a god, Nihilus.”

Nihilus felt a burning fury rise within her. For the first time, she felt herself truly hate a pony for a reason other than Twilight loving them. Her eye began to glow brighter, and she felt her magical energy gathering there, making it feel warm. “You pitiful child,” she said, “what makes you think that I am anything less?”

AJ watched the world go dark, and felt a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. Luna was distracting Nihilus. If things were going according to plan, the puppets would come for them any moment now. She took a breath to calm her nerves, and checked her saddlebag for the ropes that Luna had brought her. Then she fiddled with her stetson, and pawed the false ground, waiting.

She stood with Pinkie Pie in the top tiers of Cloudsdale. They were indoors, or as indoors as you could get in the ouropolis. They were under a roof, supported by a row of white columns. Beyond those, the building simply dropped off several stories to the false ground below. Pegasi had no need for fences or walls to keep them from falling, and Cloudsdale did not need to protect its residents from the weather.

Pinkie Pie was bouncing on her hooves so quickly she was almost vibrating. “Are they coming yet?” she asked, speaking quickly. “Are they? Huh? Huh?”

Applejack knew they futility of asking for her to calm down. “They’re comin’ alright,” she said, spying several dark shapes moving towards them through the dark sky. “When those puppets touch down you try to stay close, but keep outta my way, you hear?”

Pinkie Pie sprang more than five feet into the air. The mare could jump extraordinarily high when she wanted to, AJ noted. “You betcha!” Pinkie cried. “I’m just here to cheer for you and help with Dashie.”

Applejack spied more dark ponies moving along Cloudsdale’s “ground”. “Ah sure hope Rarity and Fluttershy know what they’re doing.” She saw a pegasus puppet pass close by and called out to it. “Up here, you no-good varmint! Ah got a hoof here with your name on it!”

The pegasus turned, and all of the puppets close by turned with it. They took off towards her, and AJ backed away from the edge of the building. In moments, several of the pegasi had landed, their black coats contrasting the pristine white of the pillared structure. Applejack looked for Dash, but all their manes were a bright blue.

More puppets began to converge on their position. Applejack counted at least ten, and their numbers were increasing every moment she dallied. “Now,” she said to herself, “ten of you against me? That just ain’t fair.” The closest pegasus stood on its hind legs, a pegasus combat stance. Applejack lowered herself so that she was close to the ground, just like Luna had taught her. The pegasus flapped its wings, its legs barely skipping along the floor as it moved towards her. “Ah had breakfast this morning,” she muttered, spinning quickly to buck the puppet as soon as it came within range.

Her kick sent it through the air and into one of the pillars. It burst, but not before the impact caused the room to shake slightly. Applejack turned to face the other puppets. They had taken similar stances as the first. “And Ah slept last night,” she said. “That puts me twenty up on the lot of you.”

This time, it was AJ who attacked. She knew what she was, now. She was an earthpony.

She charged forward, the weight of her lunge easily overcoming the first puppet’s attempt to grapple her and sending him to the floor. She pinned its forelegs with her own, then bashed its skull in with her forehead. Another puppet aimed a kick at her while she was on the ground, and she rolled toward it, catching its extended leg and jerking it toward the ground. The puppet stumbled towards her on one leg, and she grabbed it with her forelegs, wrapping them around its neck.

She rolled, placing her victim between herself and an incoming blow, using the pony as an equine shield. The incoming punch struck her victim, and, no longer needing the puppet, she broke its neck. Then she flipped onto her front, striking out with her back legs as she did so. She hit her mark, sending the puppet who had just struck his brethren into the ceiling, where it burst. She came out of her kick on all four legs.

Earthpony.

Two pegasi came at her from different directions, and she pivoted and lashed out again with her back legs, destroying it with another powerful kick. The second puppet, however, wrapped his forelegs around one of hers, throwing her off balance while she threw her kick and twisting her onto her belly. It would have been able to keep her held, too, were she not ten times stronger than it was.

Applejack simply brought her foreleg in, and the pegasus that held it was dragged on top of her. She rolled, placing the puppet beneath her, then punched out with her free foreleg. Her punch caved its face in. It burst, and once again she had all four hooves on the ground.

Earthpony.

Four puppets came at her at once with their strange flying two-legged charge, and she hoofed the first one in the skull, destroying it. Two of them got a strong grip on her, bringing her to the ground, but she rolled onto her belly, wrapping her hind legs around the third’s neck. She twisted, and the puppet burst, destroyed. Its two allies held her to the ground, however, and a new puppet entered her field of vision, raising its hooves to bring them down on her face.

She tensed the muscles in her neck, tapping her magic, and headbutted the puppet’s legs as they descended towards her. She felt the blow against her forehead, but her bones remained intact, strengthened by the same magic that allowed her to kick solid wood and remain unharmed. The puppet’s hooves shattered, and its legs broke against her face, propelled onward by the force of the stomp.

Earthpony.

AJ gave an incoherent yell, and pulled her hind legs toward her chest. The puppets that were holding them were dragged towards her, and their grips on her forelegs loosened. Applejack pulled her forelegs free, and brought them upward, smashing the two puppet’s heads together with her enhanced strength. They both burst.

The puppet whose hooves she had shattered was standing on its hind legs just above her head. She pulled her own hind legs in ever further, tightening her flank and rolling back on her shoulders. The result was that she rolled, flank-over-face, kicking the puppet into another pillar with her hind legs and landing on all four hooves, facing inward.

Earthpony.

More pegasi landed inside the structure. None of them had grey manes. Applejack reasoned that Dash had found Rarity instead of them, so she kept destroying Nihilus’ minions. She straightened out her stetson. It had taken a bit of a damage during the fighting. Applejack had not.

Two pegasi were proximate. She jumped on the nearest one, riding it to the floor as she kicked out at its ally. Its ally dodged her kick and grabbed one of her hind legs, but AJ had time to smash in the pinned puppet’s skull with her own. She felt the leg that the other puppet held break, and her brain registered intense pain. Her immediate reaction was to tap earthpony magic, forcefully re-knitting the bones. She kicked the puppet with her newly healed leg. It didn’t kill it, but sent it sprawling into a group of pegasi that had just landed.

Applejack jumped, sailing a huge distance through the air, propelled by her incredible strength. She didn’t land with the light grace of a pegasus, but rather smashed downward, landing on the dazed puppet, crushing it to death and bringing her into the middle of another group of Nihilus’ minions. Before they could register her presence, she had bucked another one into the back wall. She was dimly aware of Pinkie Pie cheering.

Earthpony.

She rolled onto another puppet and broke its neck, then felt a puppet grab her from behind. She threw herself backward, landing belly-up on top of her adversary, then head-butted backwards. To her dismay, her head struck only the floor, shattering the smooth cloud-marble. The puppet wrapped its forelegs around her neck, squeezing, but another backwards headbutt made contact, and she fell to the floor, unharmed.

Two more came at her, and she grabbed the first one around its chest, swinging it so that its legs struck the other puppet in the face, sending it reeling. The puppet she held struggled and squirmed, and she bit down on one of its wings, then tore the limb out of its socket with her teeth. She squeezed its chest with her forelegs, bringing all of her earthpony strength to bear against the puppet. Its ribcage shattered, and it burst just as the other puppet regained its bearings and came at her.

Applejack gave another battle cry and jumped the pegasus, pinning it to the ground beneath her. She struck down with both her forelegs, crushing the puppet’s neck. It burst, and she wheeled around, searching for the next enemy.

There were none.

“Wow, Applejack! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pony fight like that. Although,” Pinkie Pie said, bringing a hoof up to rub her chin. “I haven’t seen many pony fights.”

“That’s it.” Applejack was panting from the exertion. “That’s all of ‘em.”

“You forgot me,” a voice said from behind them. Applejack froze, and her mind instantly went to the ropes she had in her saddlebag. It hadn’t been the voice of the puppets. It was the voice of Rainbow Dash. AJ turned to face the mare with Pinkie Pie.

“Not surprising, really,” the pegasus said. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

Fluttershy cringed as the glittering diamond blade soared past her and cleaved an earthpony puppet in two. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Rarity to be careful; the unicorn was often the centre of a whirlwind of moving tools and cloth in her shop, and Fluttershy hadn’t ever been struck once. There was a difference, however, between a yard of fabric and a blade that could slice her to ribbons.

What made her more uneasy, however, were the puppets. There were so many of them, more than had attacked Ponyville. The green-maned dark earthponies ran at Rarity, and she tore them apart without ado.

“You know,” Rarity said to her as she separated her blade and pushed a storm of the super-sharp diamonds through several puppets, “I have always just adored Cloudsdale’s architecture.” She reformed her blade behind her, then turned to face the other half of the horde. “So filled with ideals of the earlier artistic periods, it is!” The blade snicker-snacked amongst half a dozen earthponies, killing them all in seconds as Rarity daintily back-stepped their assaults. “And it’s always so clean. Sensible, really, considering it’s thousands of feet away from any dirt.”

Fluttershy felt her stomach turn. She didn’t like watching Rarity slaughter the mindless horde while she casually carried a conversation, almost as though she were making a dress back in the Boutique. She certainly didn’t like that she couldn’t help. The only reason she was with Rarity was that it was simply the safest place for her to be. They were on the low ground, and Fluttershy would easily be able to fly away if Rarity were to fail. She tried not to think about that, however.

“I mean certainly,” Rarity continued, sending the blade into a group of puppets at neck level. The results of her swing were predictable. “A number of vermin still make their way into the city.” Several puppets had ducked the swing, but were killed when Rarity disassembled her blade and then jerked the shards through the air to reform in front of her. “But at least they don’t leave much of a mess when you clean them up.” Without turning around, she impaled an earthpony lunging at her from behind.

Fluttershy had no way of helping her. Worse, she was actually in the way. Rarity would have far less ground to hold were the pegasi absent. She hung her head. She just felt so useless...

“Did you know, dear, that unicorn blades are supposed to have names?” A large group of earthponies rushed into the structure that they were fighting in. “Mine, doesn’t, of course, but I ought to think of one, don’t you agree?” Rarity eyed the oncoming mass of puppets, then shattered her blade again. “I remember a poem I read once, or was it a book? Oh, never mind. In any case, I was thinking...” She narrowed her eyes at the oncoming horde, and the diamonds shot outwards in all directions. They ricocheted off of the walls and ceiling, causing tiny bits of cloud-marble to puff outward where they struck. The diamonds tore through the earthponies, and those who weren’t slain immediately were destroyed when Rarity returned the blade to its formed state in front of her.

“Vorpal,” she said coolly. “What do think?”

“I, um, I don’t know what that means, but I think it sounds g-” She was cut short, however, as she was enveloped by red magical energy. She was completely paralyzed.

“Fluttershy!” Rarity breathed, spinning. Fluttershy saw two more puppets at the other entrance to their structure. These, however, were unicorns with blazing red manes.

Fourteen diamonds sped towards them, and fourteen red flashes of light sent Vorpal scattering across the floor. Rarity reformed the blade.

“Attack us again and the pegasus dies.”

Rarity hesitated.

“We have specific instructions to use her life as collateral. You will surrender your blade, and then both of you will be taken to the mistress. She will keep you both alive. Do not attempt to negotiate these terms. We are not capable of altering the ultimatum in any way.”

Rarity looked at them for a moment, then back to Fluttershy. Fluttershy tried to give her a signal, a sign, but she found herself completely unable to move. She had the overwhelming urge to blink from the dust gathering on her eyes, and realized that the spell was also preventing her from breathing. Rarity let out of her breath, looking downward. Then, she threw her saddlebag to the ground at the puppet’s hooves. Thirteen irregularly cut diamonds followed it.

The unicorns waited until they had finished scooping up the diamonds with the bag to release Fluttershy. She blinked furiously, her eyes tearing up, as she took a long breath. They were now surrounded by earthponies, the two unicorns approaching them.

“You will come with us,” one of them said to Rarity.

“And the earth puppets will take you,” the other said to Fluttershy.

Fluttershy couldn’t look at her friend. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. She had ruined it, ruined the plan, ruined everything.

Wrong, she had decided. She was Wrong.

Wrong wasn’t sure what had made her come up with the name. There was something in her, though, some very tiny, almost completely inaudible voice, that told her she was wrong, that something was wrong with her. So she was now Wrong. The voice would tell her to do things, plead her not to obey the mistress, but she knew that the voice was, ironically, wrong. She would be cruel. That was her purpose.

“Applejack,” she greeted the earthpony indifferently. “Pinkie Pie.”

“Dashie!”

“Rainbow, Ah know you’re in there,” AJ uncoiled a length of rope.

The tiny voice spurred into action, but Wrong suffocated it with a slight effort of will. She was far beyond letting it get the best of her. She regarded the two earthponies in front of her, and the Insanity urged her to feel hatred. It was so good to her, the Insanity. It always showed her the way, guided her towards clarity. When clarity came, however, the tiny voice would become louder, striking at her when she was weakest. The voice was such a coward, attacking Wrong only when she was weak. It was a good thing the Insanity was there to help her get rid of it.

“You got my name wrong,” Wrong said as she approached them. “My name is Wrong.” Pinkie Pie gave her a strange look. Applejack began to spin a lasso.

“Sorry, Dash,” AJ whirled the length of rope above her head, “But if you can’t come with us on your own, Ah gotta bring you in the hard way. Last chance.”

Wrong smiled. “I am going to enjoy killing you ten times over, you rotten traitor.”

Applejack winced at her words, then regained her composure and threw the lasso, wrapping her own end of the rope around a foreleg.

Wrong rolled to the side with lightning reflexes, then reached a foreleg out and caught the loop of the lasso. She jerked it backward, and AJ stumbled towards her. Wrong sped forward, meeting her halfway with a hind hoof to the face, and felt AJ’s jaw break under the force of her blow.

AJ skidded onto her flank, and Wrong wrapped the loop of the rope around her neck. Then, she struck out with a lightning-fast flurry of blows, knocking Applejack’s face back and forth against the cloud-marble floor.

She felt a hoof on her shoulder, and struck out with a foreleg. Pinkie Pie moved to avoid it, but in doing so tripped over the hind leg Wrong had extended. Pinkie spun as she fell, so as to land on her hooves, but Wrong kicked out with her unnatural speed. Her hoof caught Pinkie Pie in the stomach, and the pink pony made a terrible choking noise as she hit the ground.

Tears had formed around the pathetic pink pony’s eyes. “Dashie?”

Wrong knelt down and smashed Pinkie’s face into the marble. Then she took the other end of the length of rope and wrapped it three times around Pinkie Pie’s hind leg.

Applejack had recovered, and stood, her jawbone realigning and the bruises on her face fading rapidly. The lasso loop was still wrapped around her neck. “You want to fight me, Dash? Alright, we’ll do things the hard way.”

Wrong stood onto her hind legs, keeping one on Pinkie’s neck. “Fight you? This won’t be a fight. I’m going to make you suffer for what you did to her.”

She spread her wings and flapped once, letting the considerable forward force of the thrust throw her, and Pinkie Pie, forward. Pinkie absorbed most of the momentum, and began to slide across the floor toward the edge of the structure and the several story drop. Applejack’s eyes widened, and she quickly moved to help her friend.

Wrong moved more quickly. She flapped her wings again, angling her motion towards the earthpony, and triple-kicked Applejack in the chest. Pinkie Pie, too dazed from her beating to stop herself, went off the edge and downward toward the city below them.

Applejack got up from where she had landed on the floor. Wrong looked down at her from her stance on two hind legs. Their eyes met.

The rope went taught.

The lasso around AJ’s neck tightened into a stranglehold, and the earthpony let out a choking gasp, struggling to remain standing on the smooth, clean floor. The muscles in her neck tightened, and she drew in a wheezing breath. Wrong spun herself through the air, kicking AJ across the face, then landed and drove a hoof into her stomach. She pushed AJ’s face downward as she pulled her leg back, driving another hoof into the earthpony’s muzzle.

Applejack fell, bloody, to the ground, where she began to slide towards the edge. She recovered and caught herself on one of the pillars, then struggled to draw another wheezing breath.

“Come on, AJ. All it would take is one bite. Cut the rope.”

Applejack looked up at her with horror. She opened her mouth wide, sucking in more air, then spoke, her voice quiet and strained. “Ah... would... never...”

Wrong crossed the room in an instant, placing her face in front of the earthpony’s. “Then why did you do it to her!?” she screamed.

Applejack drew back from the pegasus. “What...” she said, struggling to draw another breath.

“She waited, AJ. Waited for you to come for her. Rainbow Dash would have come for you, but you couldn’t be bothered. It ate her. Every second of every day she waited for you to come to the rescue and you never came. I’m what’s left, and I’m Wrong.” She punctuated the last sentence by slamming AJ’s face into the cloud-marble.

Applejack raised her head slowly, blood dripping from her snout to pool beneath her. Her face was reddening from the rope. “Nih’lus... did this to you... Dash.”

“And you let her! She was your best friend, and now I despise you for what you did to her.”

Applejack looked up at her, then slowly shook her head. “You’re not Dash. You’re crazy.” Her face was red from the lack of oxygen. She would pass out soon.

“No!” Wrong screamed, “I am Wrong!” She smashed Applejack’s head downward again, then grabbed the rope around her neck and pulled it back, adding her own strength to Pinkie Pie’s weight. She placed a hind leg on the back of Applejack’s head, bending it forward and into the rope. The earthpony tried to talk, but only managed a raspy cough, spluttered into the pool of blood.

It wasn’t long until Applejack passed out. The rope was still taught with Pinkie Pie’s weight. Wrong sat holding the rope, wondering what to do. The tiny voice was pleading with her, but she couldn’t hear what it was saying through the Insanity.

You will be cruel to others.

She kept choking Applejack, long past the point where a normal pony would die. She reckoned that AJ’s earthpony magic might be enough to keep her alive. Then, she undid the rope, which was still heavy with Pinkie Pie’s weight.

She let it go.

Wrong picked up Applejack’s limp form and flew away, handing it to some pegasus puppets she found in midair. She did not look down. She felt different, somehow, as though something inside her had changed. The Insanity was barely present, but the tiny voice had
nothing to say. She should have been happy for its absence, but instead she only felt...

Wrong.

Luna attacked first.

Nihilus watched the goddess dive straight downward, throwing herself through the clouds that made up the “ground” of the Cloudsdale plaza. Nihilus, having lost sight of her opponent, mentally prepared both a teleport and a powerful force field. Her knowledge of war magic had been greatly expanded in the past week, and she ran through the list of spells that she could now unleash upon her opponent. They were nightmarish things, magical terrors from an era of war and strife long since past.

She caught a glimpse of motion out of the corner of her eye, and whipped around to see Luna emerge behind her, bursting from the clouds and rising high into the air. In the surreal darkness, Luna possessed an ethereal glow, her mane and raiment glimmering with magical power. By contrast, Nihilus’ eye and mane each burned with a crimson energy, and her black coat was hardly visible in the darkness. Her curved and pointed ears helped to make her look positively demonic.

A stream of dark, wispy clouds trailed behind the princess as she rose, and Nihilus realized what her opponent was doing.

“We could offer thee a chance to surrender,” the princess said, “to save thyself the pain and embarrassment. But we don’t think we shall.”

Luna threw her forelegs foward, and a blazing bolt of lightning arced towards Nihilus, illuminating the darkened plaza momentarily.

The bolt was deflected by Nihilus’ magical force field, harmlessly striking a nearby pillar. Nihilus felt her red eye burn as she used her own magic to conjure a dozen tiny orbs of the writhing darkness that characterized her magic.

“You think you’re a god, Luna? I’m going to pull your legs off and watch you squirm.”

The orbs hovered around her for a moment, then sped off toward the floating alicorn, each of them spiralling silently through the air.

“Like an insect.”

Luna dove towards her despite the approaching missiles. She twisted and spun in the air with a remarkable amount of dexterity, narrowly dodging every single one of the orbs. As the princess approached Nihilus, however, Nihilus teleported into a nearby structure. She gritted her teeth with rage. When had Luna become so fast? The structure, like all pegasi structures, was open to the city, and Luna easily caught sight of her and charged.

Nihilus tapped her magic once again and aimed a transmutation spell at a nearby pillar of cloud-marble. It solidified instantly, the false marble turning into actual stone. Then it exploded, bursting into a thousand bits of rubble as Nihilus struck it with a single thought. Luna slowed herself in midair, but it was too late, and she was already in range of the broken bits of stone. Nihilus tossed several at her, keeping the rest hovering in the air around her as extra ammunition.

As expected, Luna flipped over in midair, the stones passing just under her wings. The princess flapped her wings several times, and the clouds around her became incorporeal, swirling upward and concealing the princess from view.

From within her building, Nihilus gave a snarl of rage, and slapped the remaining bits of stone at the cloud bank. She knew that even if some of them struck their mark, Luna would be mostly unharmed because of her earthpony magic, but it wasn’t as though the rubble was useful in any other way, and Nihilus had felt like hitting something.

“Face me, insect!”

The stones disappeared into the cloud bank, and there was no indication that any had struck the princess. Then, the vaporous clouds solidified, condensing into the moisture that was their liquid state. The droplets of water solidified further, coalescing into a thousand glittering, pointed shards of ice. At their centre was Princess Luna, hovering and giving Nihilus a calm look.

The bits of ice shot towards her, and Nihilus rolled behind an intact pillar to avoid them. Most of the shards smashed against the wall behind her, but some remained in the air, held back by Luna’s magic, hovering inside the structure. The princess followed the shards in moments, rocketing into the building and landing vertically on the wall opposite Nihilus. She dropped down and moved closer. Nihilus smiled.

Her smile widened to a grin as she cut the air with her horn, waving it from left to right. She felt her eye grow hotter and glow brighter as she poured power into her spell. A wall of unnaturally crimson and fluid flames spread from one side of the structure to the other. The remaining shards of ice vaporized, and Luna cried out and recoiled as the hellfire seared her flesh. Nihilus, however, was unharmed by the molten flames.

Luna backed against the wall and threw several silvery bolts of magic at her. Nihilus burned them out mid-flight with her own dark energy, then countered with another terrible war-spell. A conjured mass of writhing, dark chains was violently thrown through the wall of fire at the princess.

Luna turned to face the back wall, flapping her wings upward. With the upward force of her flight, she placed her hind legs on the vertical surface and ran up the wall, narrowly avoiding the infernal shackles. Then she pushed herself off the wall, catapulting her weight over the molten barrier and landing not ten feet from the dark unicorn.

Nihilus called forth more of her magical power while Luna was in the air, feeling her warped eye grow hotter. As the Princess landed, Nihilus screamed, and an unnatural, screeching wail tore through the air around her, causing the cloud-marble to splinter and crack. Luna tightened and winced under the unbearable sound of the war-spell.

Nihilus took the opening. She tapped her power again, conscious of the fact that the Princess was steps away from killing her. Her spell was channeled through her gaze, and she fixed her glare on Princess Luna. Immediately, the princess began to wither, her lithe form shrinking, wrinkling, and becoming fragile.

Luna did not let Nihilus gain the upper hand so easily, however. She raised her head and met Nihilus’ eyes with an equally forceful stare, and Nihilus watched in dismay as the the effects of her flesh-fade spell reversed, and Luna’s form filled out once more.

“Thou hath learned some new tricks,” the princess hissed.

“Are you not entertained, princess?”

Nihilus focused, forcing her magical energy into a single point. Her eye flashed, and a crimson beam of pure energy shot forth to impale the Princess with the unicorn’s dark power. Luna’s horn glowed, and a translucent barrier appeared in front of the goddess. Nihilus knew exactly what spell the Princess was using, and cast her own reflective wall as the beam rebounded towards its mistress.

She kept the beam steady, forcing more and more energy to bounce between the two duelists. The red light between them became blinding, and Nihilus could barely make out Luna’s expression of surprise as the princess realized what was happening. Nihilus teleported out of the structure. The princess was not so fortunate.

Nihilus came out of her translocation spell not anywhere in the plaza, but rather directly above the pillared building they had just occupied, over a hundred feet above the ground. She held herself aloft with her own telekinesis.

The structure exploded, a burning cloud of the unnatural crimson energy throwing cloud-marble outward and demolishing everything around it. A ring of flames from her hellfire spell engulfed everything just outside the blast radius.

She gave a gleeful shriek as she watched the destruction, then pieced together another war-spell in her mind. Using her incredible telekinesis, she summoned a massive wave of her dark energy and then propelled it downward into the ruins where the princess supposedly lay. As the spell descended, she made out the tiny form of Luna below her.

The Princess, unable to avoid the dark blast with her wings in time, simply threw her own wave of telekinetic force at herself, throwing herself to the side violently to avoid the much greater danger. Nihilus’ spell impacted the ruined structure, impressing a crater into the structure’s already annihilated foundation.

Nihilus did not let up on the princess. She threw herself through space again to land in front of the injured alicorn, then cast another set of infernal shackles at the Princess as she rolled out of her self-inflicted throw. The chains struck, wrapping themselves around the alicorn and tightening. Luna’s horn flashed, however, and the dark shackles shattered, their pieces speeding towards her.

Nihilus, however, had teleported once more, back into the rubble of the demolished structure and behind the Princess. She struck out with another spell of hellfire, and the Princess was consumed by the superheated molten flames. Luna was still not finished, however, and the Princess drew the clouds around her once more to extinguish the flames, the air around her erupting into a cloud of steam.

Luna exited the cloud battered and burnt, but still standing. She tore through the air towards Nihilus, aiming a kick at the unicorn’s face. Nihilus teleported out of panic, translocating herself back into the air.

Before she began to fall, she cast another beam of red energy through her glowing eye. It speared through the air incredibly fast, but the princess rolled out of the way and the beam simply cut through the base of Cloudsdale. As she fell, Nihilus readied another war-spell, softening her landing with telekinesis.

Luna turned, and Nihilus hit her with another withering glare, simultaneously casting another set of infernal shackles to bind the princess. Luna’s muscles withered, but she shook the spell off once more. Her earthpony magic was near its end from all of the harm she had sustained, however, and it took her too long to counteract the flesh-fade. The chains engulfed her once again. The princess’ horn flashed, but Nihilus channeled more power into the infernal shackles, keeping the princess bound. Luna had lost.

Nihilus wasn’t finished.

She snarled, throwing herself into the air above her helpless opponent, and threw another wave of darkness downward with even more force than she had the first. It impacted the struggling alicorn head-on, creating a massive crater in the cloud city’s plaza and throwing out a ring of force. She landed softly once again, using a touch of telekinesis to slow her fall, then examined her opponent.

Luna was not conscious, but she still drew breath. It was a pity, really. Nihilus had been enjoying a good night out on the town. “I won,” she said simply. She lifted the princess by the infernal shackles that held her. “I beat a god.” She grinned.

What did that make her?

Pinkie Pie landed.

She fell several stories through the air headfirst, turning before she hit the ground and coming to a low crouch. She sustained no harm, despite the fact that the fall should have been fatal to a pony without a massive amount of earthpony or pegasus magic.

She had fallen, which meant that Rainbow Dash had tried to kill her. Had she also tried to kill Applejack? Pinkie Pie began to feel herself panic. Why was everything so wrong?

Before, In Sugarcube Corner, she had been able to see Dashie inside whatever that thing had been. Now, she couldn’t detect the presence of her friend at all. Rainbow Dash was gone. They had to save her.

She moved through the city’s lower level. The plaza was empty now, filled with destroyed buildings and patches of unnatural red fire that burned despite the lack of fuel. She wasn’t able to think about what kind of a fight had taken place between Nihilus and the princess. She could hardly handle seeing Applejack destroy the puppets, and Dash striking her had almost left her broken.

Her face and mane were covered in blood, and the pain beat against her mind as she tried to pull herself together. Her mane was going limp. Her hind leg stung from where the rope had dug into her flesh as she hung. Her eyes were wide with panic, and she continuously swung her gaze around, looking for nothing in particular.

She moved across the city, heading towards the looming citadel that had broken through the city’s underside. If Luna wasn’t in the plaza, she might be there. If Applejack had truly lost against whatever held Rainbow Dash, she would be there. If Pinkie could get to them, rescue them, Dash would still have a chance. Twilight would still have a chance. Equestria would still have a chance.

That was only if Applejack was alive, though.

A group of earthpony puppets tried to block her path, but she absent-mindedly flipped over their heads and continued moving faster than they could catch. A pegasus tried to tackle her, but she countered its grab and threw it to the ground gently. Several more earthponies guarded the entrance to the dark fortress, but Pinkie slid under them with a lack of enthusiasm. She had to find her friends.

Luna awoke with a shuddering intake of breath. Her lungs cried out in pain as she filled them with oxygen. Her entire body ached all over, and she barely managed to open her eyes. She had lost. The thought hurt more than all her bodily pain combined.

“Applejack took far less time to recover from her near-death,” a familiar voice mused. “I wonder if I simply caused you more harm, or if Applejack is just a much stronger earthpony than you.”

Luna looked up, through the bars of a cage, to see that she was in a large circular room. She realized that they were in the floating citadel, likely at the top level judging by the size of the room. She looked back and forth to see Rarity and Applejack occupying similar cages beside her.

Nihilus stood atop a raised platform in the centre of the room, flanked by two unicorn puppets. She was wearing Applejack’s hat, and her horn poked out awkwardly from beneath the tilted stetson.

“It’s interesting, really. One moment you’re lying on the floor, dead to the world, not even breathing, and then the next you just gasp yourself back to life again. Earthpony magic is interesting indeed.” Nihilus stepped down towards them. “The metal of the bars has been enchanted. While truly nullifying unicorn magic is impossible, you will find yourselves unable to manipulate anything outside the cages.”

From her place in her own cage, Applejack spoke softly. “Ah’m sorry, princess. Ah held back. Dash was too much for me.”

“We failed,” Rarity said.

Nihilus came closer. “Did you expect any other outcome, Rarity? Twilight is what leads you to victory every time. Twilight is your power. And Twilight is mine. What is it that you have there?” she asked Luna suddenly.

Before Luna could act, Nihilus had grabbed Celestia’s game piece with her telekinesis and brought it in front of her face to be examined. “Oh,” she said, smiling. “This is just precious.” She moved closer, and knelt in front of the bars to look at the princess. “Missing your sister, are you?”

Her voice became low and taunting. “It wasn’t Titan, you know, who finished her. I wasn’t Empyrean either. It was me.” She levitated the figurine out in front of her and the air around them began to grow hot. As the metal began to melt, she continued. “I beat her down into her component parts, her different pieces of magic, so that we could give the power to to Titan’s little whelp.” A puddle of molten metal now sat in the air between them. “The process was much... messier than this, mind.” Luna turned away sharply as the metal was flicked towards her, and droplets of superheated steel burned her face. “And the result was far less useful.”

Luna was not going to let the monster-child Nihilus get the best of her. “Thou thinkest,” she said slowly, “that thou knoweth pain because thou inflict it upon others.” She met Nihilus’s deformed eyes. “I served Queen Terra for decades, parasite. Her favorite past-time is torture. Twilight’s friends are here to rescue her, not harm thee. If I get hold of thee, however...”

Nihilus’s eyes narrowed, and the red one began to glow. “Why you little-”

Her head snapped to the side suddenly, and she closed her purple eye. “Oh come now,” she said quickly. “I’m allowed to have fun.” She gave an exasperated sigh. “Fine,” she said.

From her place in her cage, Applejack looked up. “Twilight?” she asked.

“Applejack!” Nihilus barked. “Look at me.” She approached the earthpony’s cell. “Tell Twilight everything is going to be alright. Tell her that you’re going to get her out of this. Tell her that you believe that you’re still going to win.”

At this, Applejack straightened and looked Nihilus in the eye defiantly. “We are still going to win, Twilight, you hear me? This ain’t over. Ah don’t know what it’s like for you, spending all your time with her, but we’re gunna get you out. Ah swear it.”

Nihilus teleported back to the centre of the room, spinning around and laughing. “All too easy!” she crowed. She turned, and hovering in the air beside her was a golden necklace, at the centre of which was a black apple. “Oh Applejack,” she said, “lies do not become you.”

“Ah wasn’t-”

“The Element of Honesty disagrees. Now,” she said as Applejack looked on in confusion. “Rarity.” She teleported to bring herself in front of Rarity’s cage. “It will be difficult to get you to commit an act of selfish greed, I think, so I will have to simply seize control of your mind. Hold still, please, this takes quite a bit of effort, or I would have done it to Applejack, too.”

Just then, the gray-maned and black-coated form of Rainbow Dash sped into the room by way of the open balconies. She landed facing Nihilus, then gave a low bow.

“Trouble, mistress.”

A look of irritation flashed across the unicorn’s face. Her horn glowed, and Luna was soon wrapped up in the black, biting chains. She turned to the unicorn puppets still standing on the raised platform. “If they attempt to escape,” she said, “kill her.” The puppets nodded.

Nihilus teleported to one of the outdoor balconies, and Rainbow Dash moved through the air quickly to her side. They spoke for a short time, the Dash took off as Nihilus disappeared in a burst of her dark magic.

The room was silent for a time, then Luna spoke from her position pinned to the wall by the chains. “Applejack,” she said. “Thou canst breaketh the bars. Thou hath the strength.”

“No, Luna,” the earthpony responded firmly.

“Applejack, please. My part here is done. Even if we win, I know nothing about ruling a kingdom. The royal pony sisters died with Celestia.”

“How can you say that, Princess?” Rarity asked.

“If they don’t kill me now, Nihilus is going to eat me. Let me die doing something useful for once, rather than making Nihilus even stronger. Let me give you the chance to do what I couldn’t.”

Applejack was silent for a time. The puppets ahead of Luna watched her with blank faces. Rarity wouldn’t open her eyes. Finally the earthpony spoke:

“Ah see why Celestia wanted you to meet Twilight, Princess. You have a lot to learn about friendship.”

Fluttershy was led across the broken centre of Cloudsdale sometime after the unicorns took Rarity away. Their progress was slow, and Fluttershy did not resist. She let them gently prod her along. The puppets guarding her were pegasi, so she couldn’t fly away. They would be much faster than her. They entered the fortress.

She needed to rescue Rarity, but she couldn’t do anything. She only had two guards, but even if she could somehow get past them, she had no idea where Rarity was being kept, or how many enemies were between her and Fluttershy. She had to try, though. She couldn’t just give up.

She remembered how she had used the stare on the first puppet she ever saw, how it had dissipated. She stopped moving, and the pegasi in front of her turned around to prod her again.

She met its eyes with the stare.

It was as though it was empty inside. There was no mind or will for Fluttershy to influence, and so the stare simply passed through it, obliterating the little function that the puppet’s mind had. The pegasus vanished.

Fluttershy turned sharply to face the pegasus behind her, and it too met her eyes. She hated it, hated how it just died. She reminded herself that it wasn’t really real, but her unease persisted.

She moved forward through the citadel, encountering no puppets on the lower level. She found a room with stairs leading upward and outside, and spread her wings, preparing to fly around the outside edge of the fortress to find her friend.

The air next to her suddenly grew dark, and a black pony who she could only assume was Nihilus appeared next to her. “Stop,” she said simply. Fluttershy froze, terrified.

“Isn’t that interesting,” Nihilus mused, stepping in front of Fluttershy and regarding the pegasus. “I don’t need magic to subdue you at all. How pathetic.”

“T-T-Twilight, if you’re in there-”

“Ugh, why do you all keep trying to talk to her. Can’t you see I’m just so much more interesting? Now do me a favor, Fluttershy, and do something cruel. I’d hate to have to waste such a large portion of magic on a creature as insignificant and pathetic as you.”

Fluttershy looked into the pony’s mismatched eyes, and realized that Nihilus really was insane. “I’m insignificant and pathetic?” she asked. “But then what does that make you?”

Nihilus regarded her coolly. “It’s a start,” she said. “To answer your question: a god, I should hope. What else could I be?”

“Alone.”

Nihilus laughed. “You have got to be kidding me. Go on.”

“You didn’t get to choose what kind of pony you are, Nihilus. You were made.” The dark unicorn’s eyes narrowed. “But you don’t have to act like this. Twilight changed, when we first met her, so why can’t you? You don’t have to be alone and friendless, cruel and hateful. You could choose. You don’t really like having nopony to talk to, nopony to care about you, do you?”

Fluttershy felt herself thrown into a wall as Nihilus casually slapped her with telekinesis. “I think I’ve heard enough,” the unicorn said simply.

She coughed, but kept going. “We came here to save Rainbow Dash and Twilight. Who would come for you, Nihilus? Even if you beat us, you will be hated forever. You could be good.”

Nihilus snorted. “Good? After all of this you think that any part of me is capable of good? You think that any part of me would ever want to do what you call ‘good’?”

“Twilight could do evil. Everypony has a choice, Nihilus. What have you chosen to do so far?”

Nihilus closed her purple eye, then looked away from Fluttershy. “My name,” she said, her voice filled with cold rage. “I’ve chosen my name. I don’t believe for a second that you think I am redeemable, Fluttershy. You love Twilight too much to let me go.”

“I mean it. I swear. I’ll Pinkie Pie Swear.”

Nihilus turned away from her fully. “No need,” she said simply. She turned back around, and in front of her was a golden necklace set with a butterfly-shaped gem. Her horn darkened, and the gem at the centre of the necklace turned black.

Nihilus closed her eyes, and a pained expression came across her face. “You just lost the Element of Kindness, Fluttershy,” she said. “Do you know what that means?” She turned around, and her expression was one of fury. “That means that everything you just said was a lie. You know you’ve lost, so you’re trying to hurt me in the only way you know how. Cruelty, Fluttershy. It means you’re being cruel. And of all the ponies in the world, you chose to be cruel to me.”

Another telekinetic push slammed Fluttershy against the wall. “Well I don’t want your friendship! I don’t need any other pony! I am more powerful than all of your friends combined.”

Fluttershy was confused. She hadn’t been dishonest; she really didn’t want anypony to die so that Twilight could live. Nihilus, however, was not going to change.

“And this is what you do with it,” Fluttershy said weakly. “Nopony deserves power as little as you do, Nihilus. You should be helpless here, not me.”

From the top of the steps, A black pegasus with a gray mane descended to stand beside the unicorn. It took Fluttershy some moments to recognize Rainbow Dash.

Suddenly, Nihilus jerked her head to the side once more and closed her purple eye. “Shut up, you!” she shouted to nopony in particular. She continued to yell at herself, “You heard what she said. I have your spell already, I don’t need you anymore.” She barked out a humorless laugh. “You really think pleading is going to get me to change my mind? You’re just as pathetic as they are.” Nihilus turned back to Fluttershy. “You have enlightened me, Fluttershy. I realize now that the five of you will never stop trying to rescue Twilight Sparkle. You will never stop trying to kill me. I simply cannot allow you to live.”

She looked over to Rainbow Dash. “Kill her,” she said simply. Then she vanished in a burst of darkness.

“Rainbow Dash, you-”

Dash crossed the room faster than Fluttershy would have thought possible and kicked her in the chest. Wind knocked out of her, Fluttershy fell to the ground. Dash straddled her form and struck out with a flurry of blows, hitting Fluttershy several times in the face. Fluttershy’s mouth filled with blood.

She spat the blood out. “Dash-”

She felt another hoof made contact with her face, and her head bounced off of the stone floor, dazing her. She felt a leg press down onto her windpipe. She couldn’t draw breath.

She looked around, searching for something, anything she could use to save herself. There was nothing. She flailed her hind legs, but they struck nothing. She beat them uselessly against the floor, all the while feeling her life ebbing away. With no other options, she looked up, into Dash’s eyes.

She stared.

For a moment, it seemed as though it would work. The pressure on her neck let up slightly, and she almost managed to take a breath. It was as though her stare met some invisible barrier, however, between her and Rainbow Dash. She tried to push through it, tried to force her way into Dash’s mind, and felt the barrier crack and splinter...

Dash closed her eyes.

After awhile, Fluttershy closed hers, too.

Silence.

There was no buzzing, no writhing inside of her, no crawling under her skin. For the first time since the mistress had given her the Insanity, it was totally quiet. All her memories, all her thoughts, all her feelings, came back to her.

She stood frozen, realizing who she was. She couldn’t stand the silence. The Insanity would come back, soon, to make some noise, to make her forget. She looked down in disbelief, hardly aware of where she was or why she was there. Before the buzzing came to bring her back to blissful insanity, she managed to softly speak one word. Her voice was quiet, but she could easily hear it through the total silence that permeated the room:

“Fluttershy?”

-

Chapter 7: “She’s Alive”

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She's Alive

She’s Alive

Fluttershy was dead.

“Fluttershy?” Rainbow Dash asked again.

The Insanity hit her in full force, choking out her thoughts and wrenching at her gut, reminding her that she wasn’t Rainbow Dash. For a moment, she withdrew, hiding again inside her hatred and letting the Insanity take control. She would be Wrong from now on, she would be a good pony. Rainbow Dash was gone, beaten into submission by the relentless pain of Nihilus’s spell. Wrong would do as she was told. Wrong hated her old friends.

Wrong’s hatred was an excuse, though, Dash realized. Rainbow Dash would never hate her friends because they hadn’t come for her. She knew that attacking Nihilus in Ponyville right away would have been suicide. Wrong was just looking for a reason to feel the hate the Insanity needed, and spare herself the pain. Wrong was a lapdog, a broken mockery of what Rainbow Dash had been. Wrong was pathetic.

The Insanity intensified, and Dash grunted, falling to her haunches before being forced to submit. It had been weaker, though. Whereas before she was totally incapable of acting outside of Nihilus’s will, now she found that the tiny voice was no longer so tiny. She could resist. She could be Rainbow Dash again, if only momentarily. Fluttershy’s stare had weakened Nihilus’s spell.

The pegasus lay on the floor before her, however, not moving or breathing. Wrong had choked the life out of her. Rainbow Dash looked at the lifeless pegasus in shock, still barely able to comprehend what she had done. The Insanity nudged her, urging her to feel happiness at her former friend’s death, but how could she? She resisted, fighting it until it caused her to fall to the floor again. She would rather feel the pain.

“Fluttershy?”

This time, she got an answer, but not from Fluttershy.

“You.”

Dash turned around sharply and came face to face with Pinkie Pie. The earthpony stood in the doorway, her face covered in blood. She looked from Dash to Fluttershy, then back to Dash again.

“You did this,” she said quietly. Her expression was one of complete horror.

“Pinkie Pie,” Dash said slowly. “What are you doing here?”

The Insanity returned to Dash in full force in response to Pinkie Pie’s presence. She fought it at first, but the buzzing noise built and built, growing until it was too much to bear. It pushed her aside, as strong as it had been when she fought Applejack, forcing her into submission.

Dash could still feel that the spell had weakened, however. It was as though she were an outsider looking in, examining her broken psyche as it bent to do the spell’s bidding. She wasn’t cured, or even close to being in control, but she could feel the spell unravelling because of Fluttershy’s stare.

When the time came, she would be able to fight it again. She would be able to act, if only for moments, and do something. She would wait, gathering her strength, preparing to take action at a crucial moment. She hated the idea of not fighting the Insanity with everything she had, but she had tried that before, and it had failed. She receded, slipping back into her delirium. Wrong gritted her teeth and looked Pinkie Pie in the eyes.

“I...” Pinkie began to shake, and her breathing quickened. “I came to...” She fell back onto her haunches, shaking her head, looking at the still form of Fluttershy all the while. Tears appeared at the edges of her eyes. “I came to save the day,” she finished, so softly it was almost inaudible.

You will be cruel to others. Wrong took a step towards the pink pony. “You’re too late, Pinkie. If only you had been faster. Go ahead. Call me Dashie.”

“No...”

“Throw Fluttershy and I a party to make everything all better.”

“No-no-no-no...”

“Tell me you forgive me.”

“No.” Pinkie Pie looked away from Fluttershy, at Wrong. Her mane billowed around her, then fell straight around her head, its edge cutting a smooth line against her neck. The pony seemed to fade, her colors diminishing, and her expression came into focus. It was unnatural to see Pinkie Pie be so still. “I’m not going to throw a party,” she said.

Pinkie Pie rose to all fours, bloodied. Wrong noticed that her neck was still bruised slightly from where Wrong had choked her. The earthpony continued to speak, “And I’m not going to call you Dashie. You aren’t Dashie.”

Wrong stood on her hind legs, using her superior pegasus balance to keep herself perfectly steady. Capturing Pinkie Pie would be easy, really. The pink pony would be no match for the fastest pegasus in Equestria, trained in hoof-to-hoof combat.

Pinkie Pie continued to look her in the eyes. Something about the way Pinkie was looking at her seemed off, however. It was as though something inside of the earthpony had broken. “And I will never forgive you, Wrong.”

Strangely, the earthpony rose onto her own hind legs. She wiped the tears from her eyes with a hoof, and tried to wipe the blood away from her face with another. The dark red fluid was smeared across her muzzle. Suddenly, the pink pony didn’t seem so pathetic. “I’m not going to do any of those things,” she said in her eerily steady voice. “I’m going to kill you.”

Wrong barely had time to register the hoof connecting with her face before she was thrown to the stone floor. She looked up, astonished, to see Pinkie Pie standing on all fours where Wrong had been only moments before. Pinkie had moved so fast, crossing the distance between them in barely the time it took to blink. It wasn’t possible.

Wrong got back to her feet. It didn’t matter if Pinkie Pie was fast. Wrong was the fastest pony in all of Equestria. She spread her hind legs in a fighting stance again and threw a punch at Pinkie’s face.

Within her, Dash prepared to seize control. Trying to stop the Insanity now might end up driving her crazy again, but she couldn’t let herself hurt Pinkie Pie. She gathered her willpower, preparing to give Pinkie Pie the chance to run-

Pinkie Pie caught the punch in a high block, then twisted Wrong’s leg under her own. Wrong threw another with her other foreleg, and Pinkie caught it too. Then, Pinkie threw her head forward, driving her forehead into Wrong’s face. Wrong’s head snapped back, and Pinkie Pie headbutted her once again. Wrong brought a hind leg up to Pinkie’s chest and beat her wings, forcing them apart. As she regained her footing, however, Pinkie Pie struck her in the chest with a foreleg, sending her stumbling back into the wall.

“You were supposed to be Loyalty!” Pinkie screamed, sobbing.

Wrong, frustrated by Pinkie’s inexplicable fighting prowess, beat her wings, sending herself through the air over Pinkie’s head. She flipped over Pinkie Pie head-down, and Pinkie tracked her as she moved, her gaze never leaving Wrong’s. Wrong landed, and Pinkie Pie struck out with a well-aimed kick from one of her hind legs. Wrong was prepared, however, and caught the kick with her forelegs. She twisted them, and the torque sent Pinkie Pie spinning sideways.

Pinkie Pie, in an act of incredible balance, threw out a foreleg and caught herself as Wrong twisted. Supported on one end by a single foreleg, and on the other by Wrong’s hold, Pinkie Pie kicked out with her free hind leg, striking Wrong twice in the face and sending her reeling once more.

Inside her twisted consciousness, Rainbow Dash withdrew. She had been prepared to take the Insanity head-on again, but it hardly seemed as if Pinkie Pie needed her help. She, or rather Wrong, was losing.

Wrong regained her footing, then stared at Pinkie Pie in disbelief as she threw herself upward off of the ground, spinning several times in the air before she landed perfectly on her hind legs once more. Pinkie Pie did not wait this time, coming at Wrong with her unusual speed.

Wrong blocked a punch from the other pony, then another, then tripped Pinkie as she tried to kick her. Pinkie Pie threw her weight backwards, rolled back to her feet, then narrowly dodged a spinning kick from Wrong. Wrong struck out with a punch as Pinkie recovered, hitting Pinkie Pie on the cheek. Pinkie Pie caught her foreleg before she could bring it back, however, and twisted, using her leverage to throw Wrong towards the ground.

On her way down, however, Wrong wrapped her hind legs around Pinkie’s neck, then beat her wings, pushing herself upward and Pinkie Pie down. Pinkie Pie rolled underneath Wrong as she was forced to the floor, then kicked upwards with her own hind legs. Wrong was thrown upward and away, and struck the ceiling, wind knocked out of her momentarily. She forced herself to focus, then beat her wings downward, throwing herself at Pinkie with enormous speed.

When Wrong landed, however, Pinkie Pie had once again spun herself through the air and back onto her feet. Wrong knew she shouldn’t have been able to move so quickly. Earthponies weren’t capable of such agility. Most pegasi couldn’t even move so fast.

Pinkie Pie pivoted and kicked out at Wrong’s face with both hind legs. Wrong threw herself onto her forelegs to avoid the kick, then spun and caught Pinkie’s hind legs with her own. She twisted, and both of them were thrown toward the ground. Each of them landed an identical roll, however, and came to their feet a short distance away.

Pinkie Pie spat. “You were supposed to come back at the last minute and make everything better!” Dash wished she could speak to her hysteric friend. She had to wait until her intervention was absolutely necessary, though. She couldn’t take on the Insanity. Not yet.

Pinkie Pie jumped, throwing herself an incredible distance into the air, legs flailing. She aimed three kicks at Wrong as she came toward her, and Wrong cross-blocked each with her forelegs. As Pinkie landed, Wrong spun on one hind leg, first aiming a kick at Pinkie, which the other pony ducked. Wrong continued along her trajectory, however, spinning so that her hind leg met the ground again and she faced Pinkie directly. As the other pony ducked, Wrong put her in a headlock with her forelegs.

Wrong pushed off with her hind legs and beat her wings, sending both of them forward before Pinkie Pie could react. They struck the wall behind them, Pinkie Pie pinned under Wrong. Her opponent caught Wrong’s attempt to punch her with a foreleg, then headbutted Wrong once again. Wrong did not let go of the other pony, but she recoiled enough to let Pinkie Pie bring her hind legs into her chest. Pinkie kicked out, throwing Wrong away, then came at her with another kick.

Wrong caught the kick with one foreleg, then punched Pinkie Pie in the chest. Her opponent weathered the blow, then put all of her weight on the foreleg holding her kick. Pinkie Pie pivoted, using Wrong’s hold as a support, to bring her other hind leg across Wrong’s face. Wrong released Pinkie, and recoiled.

She looked up in time to see Pinkie Pie running up the wall behind her in an act that outright defied ordinary pony physics. Pinkie Pie sprung off of the vertical surface, and this time it was Wrong who looked up as her opponent sailed over her head, their faces inches away from one another. Their eyes met, and Pinkie Pie’s expression was one of cold indifference. Wrong knew that she herself was wearing an expression of complete disbelief.

Pinkie Pie was using pegasus magic.

Pinkie made a perfect landing behind Wrong, and Wrong turned to face her opponent. How was it possible?

“Surprise,” Pinkie said coldly, as if in answer to her bewilderment. Then Pinkie spun on her forelegs and kicked Wrong in the chest once again with two legs. Taken by surprise, Wrong took the full force of the blow.

She was thrown backward into the wall, and before she could react, Pinkie Pie had struck her across the face. Pinkie hit her, again and again, and Wrong’s head was tossed from side to side. She tasted blood in her mouth, and her vision blurred. Finally, Pinkie Pie stopped hitting her, her blows slowing down and losing force before she stepped away from Wrong. Wrong looked up weakly and saw that Pinkie Pie’s eyes were once again filled with tears.

“You killed her!” Pinkie continued, driving a hind leg into Wrong’s chin and causing her head to snap back against the wall. “You tried to kill me! Why do you have to be Wrong,” Pinkie Pie sobbed. “Why can’t you be Rainbow Dash!” She aimed a punch at Wrong’s exposed throat.

Her hoof stopped in midair.

“I think that will suffice.” A cold, sinuous voice called out. “Thank you, Pinkie. I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you.”

Nihilus stepped down from the stairway that lead to the ramparts. “Sorry to spoil your fun, but I’d like to keep my favorite toy alive. But again, thank you for punishing her for her absolutely dismal failure in subduing you.”

Pinkie was completely frozen in front of Wrong, enveloped by a soft coat of red energy. Nihilus’s horn was glowing. She pulled a gold necklace out of thin air, and watched as the balloon gem it was set with turned black.

“Who would have thought,” Nihilus said with a smile, “that somewhere in there you failed to represent laughter. Don’t feel so bad, dear, it isn’t your fault.” She gave Pinkie what was probably meant to look like a reassuring smile. “Only I can be happy all the time.” The Element of Laughter vanished, and Nihilus closed her purple eye for a moment. Then, she regarded Pinkie Pie, her expression growing cold.

“I am almost finished with you and your friends,” she said. “And I do not want any more surprises. I intend to keep you alive awhile longer. Your broken spirit will set an excellent image for the others. Still, to make sure you don’t do anything to hinder my plans...”

Pinkie Pie was thrown straight upward, and impacted the ceiling with a sickening crunch. Then, she was thrown downward onto the floor, still held by Nihilus’s magic. A black lash of energy wrapped its way around the pink pony, digging into her flesh and drawing blood, before Nihilus bound Pinkie in magically conjured shackles.

“I am surprised you’re still conscious, Pinkie,” Nihilus said lightly. “I suppose that’s for the best, though. Wrong,” she said sharply, turning. “Grab Fluttershy. It is a long ascent to the central chamber.” Nihilus’s horn began to glow, and her magic lifted herself and Pinkie Pie off of the floor with telekinesis. “Fortunately, I can fly.”

Luna wished Applejack had let her die.

They had lost, and that was that. The plan had failed. That Applejack still clung to hope would have been admirable, were it not for the fact that her stubbornness was costing them the only chance they had left. It was a small chance— even if AJ got free of her cage, the earthpony would have to deal with the two unicorns in the center of the room. It was their only option, however, and Applejack had refused. Luna was going to be fed to Nihilus so that the unicorn could become even more powerful.

Such a thing was supposed to be impossible. While it was true that there were forms of dark magic capable of stealing the abilities of another pony, they all came with severe drawbacks, and required the limbs of the pony in question to be severed. How Nihilus had been able to take Celestia’s magic and give it to another, Luna didn’t know. It seemed to be just one more magical rule that Twilight Sparkle— and as a result, Nihilus— could break.

Luna fell roughly back to ground as the conjured chains binding her disappeared. She looked up, expecting to see Nihilus, but the anti-Twilight was nowhere to be found. She tried to judge the strength of her cage door. The bars were thick— likely too thick for her to simply break with earthpony strength. She was not as strong as Applejack. She couldn’t manipulate the bars themselves with magic, either, or anything outside of them. Even without the chains or the presence of Nihilus, she was trapped.

If she did manage to escape, what then? She was more than a match for the unicorn puppets, but Nihilus? The unicorn could be in every place at once. Luna wouldn’t stand a chance of escaping, weak as she was. She sighed, painfully aware of the tiny particles of metal clinging to her face. She had failed the bearers. She had failed Equestria. She had failed Celestia. What made her fail again and again? What was she missing?

Just then, Pinkie Pie, beaten and bloodied, was thrown unceremoniously to the floor through one of the outside doorways. Pinkie looked different, however. Her mane was straight, for one, and the color of her coat seemed slightly off. She sat up just as Nihilus, still wearing Applejack’s hat, descended through the open archway to the ground in front of her.

“I see none of you tried to escape in my absence,” she said loudly. “I’m glad. I’ve had enough excitement for one day, I think.

“Not that you could if you tried, of course. We are now far from Cloudsdale, and high above the ground, getting higher even as I speak.” The pony stepped up onto the central platform so that she stood between her two unicorn puppets. “Pinkie has so generously given me the Element of Laughter,” she continued, “and now sees the futility of your attempts to rescue Twilight Sparkle. Fluttershy was not so cooperative.”

As if on cue, Rainbow Dash slowly flew through the doorway, holding the other pegasus. She stiffened her wings, holding them straight so as to glide downward and land before the three cages that held Luna, Rarity, and Applejack. There, she lay the beaten form of Fluttershy. She wasn’t breathing.

All Applejack managed to utter was, “No...” The earthpony rushed forward to press herself against her cage’s bars, but did not attempt to break free.

There was no expression in the look that Nihilus gave the ponies. She didn’t seem pleased, or amused, or angry. When she spoke, however, her words were tight and strained with barely contained rage. “I’m sure you will all be happy to hear that she spent the last moments of her life feeding me a beautiful lie. I will admit that I underestimated her capacity to cause pain.”

Rarity lunged forward and smashed herself against the door to her cage. The door rattled on its hinges, but Rarity was far too weak to break the lock that held it shut. “Murderer!” she screamed. She continued to rattle the cage door uselessly. “Murderer! I’ll kill you for this, you hear me?”

Nihilus teleported so that she was in front of Rarity’s cage. “You will do nothing of the sort, Rarity,” she hissed. “I don’t know why I hate you so much more than the others. Perhaps I’m predisposed to because of Twilight, or perhaps it’s this gash I have on my face. In any case, I’m glad I get to do you last. But first-” She teleported again so as to bring herself beside Pinkie Pie. “I’m going to kill this little firecracker while all of you watch. Would you believe that Pinkie Pie can use pegasus magic?”

Luna threw herself against her bars with all her might, but the lock on the door was too strong. Applejack’s attempt at escape met the same result. “You just love it, don’t you!?” the earthpony shouted. “Making other ponies feel powerless!”

Nihilus tilted her head and regarded the earthpony. “I used to,” she said. “But now I think I’m tired of you all. There isn’t any more joy in tormenting you. I’m not going to throw any more taunts, or play any more games. I’m just going to kill you. It is over. This is the end.” She turned back to Pinkie Pie.

“Wait!” Rarity cried. “You still need the Element of Generosity!”

Nihilus sighed in exasperation, rolling her eyes, then turned to Rarity. “And?”

“If you kill them, I’m not going to give it to you.”

Nihilus laughed humorlessly. “I was just planning on making you my mind-slave, Rarity. I hope you like the taste of books, because when I have the Elements I won’t be needing this one.” Nihilus pulled a massive tome out of thin air and threw it to the ground in the center of the room. “I’ll have the Element of Generosity with or without your consent.”

Rarity’s horn glowed, and from within her mane a single diamond levitated outward. She didn’t aim it at Nihilus, however, instead placing it against her own neck. “Not if I’m dead you won’t,” she said quietly.

Immediately, Nihilus’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”

Rarity stepped backward to the far back of her cage. “Either you let the others go,” she said. “Or I kill myself right now.”

Nihilus narrowed her eyes. “You’re too selfish. You don’t have the guts.”

“You can either give me what I want and get everything you want in return, or you can risk everything. Let them go.”

Nihilus stomped a hoof against the floor. “You think I’m stupid? If I let them go you’ll just kill yourself anyway! Give me the diamond first.”

“You think I’m stupid?”

“I will give you my word.”

“Your word isn’t worth anything to me.”

“It’s all you have. I will spend decades finding a new Bearer of Generosity if I have to, but I will not let them go before you give me that diamond.”

“Don’t do it, Rarity,” Luna said. “She’s lying. There’s only one way to stop her now.”

“Shut up!” Nihilus snapped at the princess. The unicorn turned back to Rarity. “You’re going to take my deal. You’re going to do it because these are your friends, and this is the only chance you have to save them. I will give you my word, and when you give me the diamond, I’ll let them go. I’ll let you go, too, when I’m done, if you want.” She shuddered and closed her purple eye for a second. “Twilight says you can trust me, Rarity. All I want is the Elements. Nothing more.”

Rarity looked at the princess, then back to Nihilus. “You have to swear,” she said. Luna closed her eyes. They were lost.

“I swear, now give me the diamond!”

“You have to Pinkie Pie swear!” At this, Pinkie Pie looked up from her place on the floor.

“Fine! I Pinkie Pie swear!”

“Say the words!”

Nihilus gave Rarity a look of disgust. “Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” She went through the motions as she spoke, placing a hoof over her purple eye. “There,” she said, “are you happy?”

Rarity released her hold on the diamond and slid it outside the bars of her cage. Nihilus stepped forward and looked down at the gem. Then she threw back her head and laughed.

Pinkie Pie laughed with her.

The party pony’s hair had exploded back into its usual untidy mess, and she rolled around on the floor behind Nihilus, laughing hysterically. She beat the floor with a hoof, tears streaming down her face. She gave no indication as to what she found so entertaining.

Nihilus approached, looking down at Pinkie Pie. “Just what,” she said quietly,“is so funny?”

“I just got it!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed. “Just now!” Nihilus tilted her head, evidently confused. “I have pegasus magic, you guys! I get it! We’re going to win.”

Nihilus did not look amused. “Oh?”

Pinkie Pie continued to talk between bouts of laughter. “Fluttershy!” she called out. “Fluttershy!” The dead pegasus lying in front of Luna’s cage did not respond. “Pegasus magic,” she said to herself through bouts of laughter. “You are over, Nihilus.”

Nihilus closed her purple eye. “Fluttershy is dead, you crazed imbecile. I killed her. And now I’m going to kill you too.”

Rarity rattled the door to her cage. “No!” she screamed

Pinkie Pie laughed even harder. “You’re not gunna kill me, silly. You can’t break a Pinkie Pie Swear.”

“Just watch me,” Nihilus said, clearly at the end of her patience. Her horn glowed.

A lot of things happened at once.

The first was that Nihilus’s spell struck Pinkie Pie directly in the chest. Pinkie was thrown through the air, sailing upward, out the doorway behind her, and over the edge of the balcony. She smiled the whole way, grinning even as she disappeared over the edge to plummet to her death.

The second, and by far more surprising thing, was Rainbow Dash.

Before Nihilus had even released her spell, The black pegasus was moving. She turned toward Nihilus so fast her mane whipped around behind her. She moved through the air, landing on Nihilus’s back, forcing the unicorn roughly to the ground. As she beat her wings and pumped her hooves to cross the distance between herself and the Nihilus, she screamed Fluttershy’s name once.

Dash didn’t stop there, however. She used Nihilus as a springboard, throwing herself out the doorway and over the balcony. There, the air gathered around her with a ripple and a loud thrumming noise and she shot downward at an incredible speed, chasing Pinkie Pie.

Finally, and most surprisingly, when Rainbow Dash called, Fluttershy answered.

The pegasus, lying in front of the Luna’s cage, took a single gasping breath. Her eyes shot open as she filled her lungs with air, and she rolled onto her back. She made another huge, gulping intake of air, and her eyes shot into focus. Nihilus was recovering from Dash’s blow, and the unicorn puppets were too slow to react. Fluttershy rolled to her feet, towards Luna’s cage. Then, she grabbed the lock holding the door shut in her teeth.

It was a massive piece of enchanted steel. Fluttershy yelled in exertion, the sound muffled through the lock she held in her mouth. Then, she simply tore it away, the metal screeching in protest as the strength of Fluttershy’s pull snapped it in two. Luna felt her mouth open in disbelief.

Fluttershy was using earthpony magic.

The door to Luna’s cage swung open just as Applejack, upon seeing Fluttershy come back to life, kicked her own door off its hinges. Luna wondered where Applejack had found the strength for such a feat.

The unicorns across the room seemed to take in the events of the past several seconds, but it was too late. Luna was free. Applejack was free. Fluttershy was alive.

Luna beat her wings to bring herself across the room, charging at the unicorns. She was surprised to find herself smiling as she travelled through the air.

Nihilus had been wrong. It wasn’t over. Not yet.

Rainbow Dash.

The name echoed inside her head as she tore through the air around her. She had to resist. She couldn’t afford to succumb, not now. Pinkie Pie might have pegasus magic, but she didn’t have wings. The pony was a tiny pink speck below her, plummeting towards the ground at an alarming rate. Dash pumped her wings furiously, focusing herself downward.

The Insanity came at her, and her wings faltered for a moment. She ignored it, summoning every bit of willpower she had, taking advantage of the flaw that Fluttershy had created.

Rainbow Dash.

She focused on the flight itself, the air moving past her and grabbing at her mane. She could feel every stream and current around her with her pegasus magic. It was as though the wind itself spoke to her, telling her to beat her wings just so and to tilt her tail like this. She accelerated, speeding downward.

The Insanity clawed at the edges of her mind, but it faltered. It wanted to punish her for her transgression, but Dash found that she had more than enough strength to fight it. As she moved faster, it seemed to fade away, the buzzing noise in her ears slowly growing quieter. The Insanity might want her to be Wrong again, but it had to catch up with her first.

Rainbow Dash, she thought again. The fastest flyer in Equestria. Like anything can “catch up” with me.

The pegasus magic that let her slide so easily through the air, that made her seem so light when she wanted it to, and that allowed her to defy ordinary pony physics, was building around her. She was moving so fast that her own power gathered in front of her, unable to escape due to her extreme velocity. She saw Pinkie Pie below her, plummeting toward the quickly approaching ground. Rainbow Dash was going to catch her, of course. How could there have been any doubt?

The Insanity beat uselessly against Dash’s mind. Fluttershy’s stare had rendered it weak, however, and now Dash’s desperate flight to save her friend was rendering it impotent. It was so small, so pathetic. It couldn’t stop her. Nothing could stop her.

She thrust a hoof forward enough so that it barely dipped into the magical shock-wave gathering in front of her. It split the magical energy, causing it to angle sharply around her and to her sides. Where the tip of the hoof dipped into the shock-wave, it almost seemed to turn blue. Dash smiled. It didn’t seem blue, it was blue. She could barely see Pinkie Pie below her through her teary eyes, barely make out Pinkie’s smile.

Rainbow Dash!

The world exploded around her, and Rainbow Dash felt a moment of total clarity. It was as though time slowed down, and her senses picked up every single minute detail.

She broke through her own shock-wave. It rippled along her body: first up her foreleg, then past her face, until finally it moved past her tail and broke behind her into a massive explosion of every color imaginable. As it moved over her body, however, it seemed to peel away the spell that Nihilus had used. Her senses took in every individual hair shedding its dark coloring in favor of Dash’s natural blue. She knew her mane had done the same.

She saw Pinkie Pie clearly in front of her, grinning wildly and flailing her legs as she fell through the air. It was just so easy to move through the air toward her. Dash felt no drag forces as she sped down toward Pinkie Pie, grasping the other pony’s hoof in her own. She kept flying downward, decelerating herself just the right amount so that she stopped moving as her hind legs touched the ground.

It took her several seconds. As she and Pinkie Pie touched down onto the ground, they both looked up at the Sonic Rainboom spreading out over them. Pinkie looked at Dash, and Dash looked at Pinkie. She felt her mane billow around her, charged with magical energy. She gave Pinkie Pie a wide grin.

“I’m back.”

It was all that needed to be said. Dash held out her forelegs, and Pinkie Pie hopped into them. Then, Dash took off, speeding upwards through the air at double the speed she had descended at despite having to fight against gravity. She had performed the Sonic Rainboom; all her power was at her disposal. As a result, she was able to move at what could only be called a ludicrous speed.

“Awe, yeah!”

Pinkie giggled at Dash’s remark. Dash gave her a wink. “I probably wouldn’t be able to go this fast without hurting you if you weren’t some kind of pegasus-earthpony hybrid, you know.”

“Faster!” Pinkie Pie cried. She stuck out her tongue and let it wag in the intense wind. “Pbfaaaaaasthter!”

“You like to go fast?” Dash redoubled her efforts. “How’s this?”

She realized too late what she had said. Pinkie Pie giggled. “Did it again...” Dash muttered to herself.

“Gee, Dashie, you sure do know how to show a mare a good time.”

Dash gave Pinkie her best unamused look.

It was not long before the speed of their flight brought them to the citadel balcony. Dash slowed their flight, losing velocity as she crested the balcony, then landed just inside the doorway. She had no idea what had been happening while she was gone. Pinkie Pie had made her realize that Fluttershy had earthpony magic, however. Hopefully, the pegasus was alright. Hopefully, she had knocked Nihilus out when she stomped on the unicorn’s face.

As she and Pinkie moved through the doorway, none of her worries seemed to bother her, however. Nor did the fact that she had spent the past hour trying to kill her friends. The power of her Sonic Rainboom, her new freedom, and Pinkie Pie had somehow infused her with a feeling of joy that she couldn’t shake. She believed Pinkie Pie. They were going to win.

Dash took in the room at a glance.

She saw Fluttershy, alive and awake, in front of the cages. She looked beaten half to death, however, and Dash was surprised she was even able to stand. Rarity and Applejack duelled the two unicorns, forming a two-pony shield around the wounded pegasus.

Somehow, Rarity had reassembled all of her mysterious diamond blade. Dash knew that the unicorns had confiscated it, but apparently once out of her cage they could not keep it from her. It whipped and whirled through the air before her, deflecting red bolts of energy and cleaving thrown metal shards in two. As Dash watched, the blade exploded into its separate pieces, all of which went shooting toward the unicorn opposite Rarity. Each diamond met a force-field that the enemy unicorn erected at the last moment, however, and bounced away harmlessly.

The other unicorn, the one opposite Applejack, threw several metal shards in Rarity’s direction. AJ speedily jumped to intercept them, however, the pieces of steel tearing into her flesh. Applejack seemed totally unfazed by the grievous wounds, and charged the unicorn as Rarity reassembled the blade.

Luna was fighting a bloodied Nihilus. The alicorn looked burned and beaten, and one of her wings was broken. It was obvious that there was little fight left in her. Nihilus, again at the centre of the room, seemed to be favoring a hind leg, and her muzzle was bleeding. A wide gash ran along her back. She fought with her purple eye closed, and its red counterpart burned. As she watched, Nihilus struck Luna with a blast of force, sending the princess sprawling across the citadel floor.

Dash knew that there were still earthpony and pegasi puppets on the lower levels. She knew that Nihilus had the ability to call them with magic, and that given the chaotic situation she probably already had. They could be seconds from being overwhelmed. Dash punched her forelegs together in front of her, feeling the power coursing through her body. It was time for action.

“Help them,” she said to Pinkie Pie, nodding sharply to Rarity and Applejack.

“Right!” Pinkie Pie gave a salute before forward-flipping down the steps toward their friends.

“Hey!” Dash called out towards Nihilus. She turned away from Luna, and a look of shock came over her face at the sight of Rainbow Dash, mane blazing, standing in the doorway. Their eyes met, and Nihilus’s red eye instantly reminded her of what the unicorn had done to her, of what she’d done. Her purple eye reminded her that Nihilus still had Twilight. Hopefully Twilight couldn’t feel Nihilus’s pain. Rainbow Dash didn’t bother finishing her one-liner.

Dash crossed the room almost instantly, leaving behind her an energized rainbow trail. She kicked Nihilus in the face with a hind leg, her hoof impacting the unicorn’s face so hard Nihilus bit her tongue. Blood trailed through the air behind Nihilus’s mouth as the unicorn was thrown to the side.

Rainbow Dash was on her before she hit the ground, punching her in the muzzle again, twice. Her third strike, however, hit only solid stone floor as Nihilus instinctively teleported away from Dash. Rainbow Dash spun in a full circle, spotting Nihilus on one of the four balconies lining the room. The unicorn threw a set of magical chains at her, but they seemed laughably slow to Dash’s enhanced senses. She did a perfect back-flip over the chains, then flapped her wings, throwing herself at the unicorn once more.

She crashed into Nihilus, careful not to throw the unicorn over the edge, and shoved a hind leg into her belly before punching her once more in the face. Nihilus teleported again, and Dash found her back in the center of the room with a quick spin. Nihilus did not throw chains this time, but rather sent a huge wave of force at her, clearly trying to prevent Dash from evading this time.

Dash beat her wings so hard that she simply pushed her way through Nihilus’s spell unharmed. She landed on the central platform with a roll, picking up the book Nihilus had dropped earlier between her two forelegs as she came up to face her opponent.

She brought the book across Nihilus’s face so hard it sent the unicorn sprawling backward. Dash landed on her, pinning her with her hind legs while she still held the book. Nihilus looked up at Rainbow Dash, and for the first time, Dash saw fear in her eyes.

“I hope you like the taste of parchment,” Dash said. She spat into Nihilus’s red eye, then thrust the book into her jaw when the unicorn winced. The edge of one of the book’s covers found its way between her teeth, and Dash pounded on the spine of the book with a foreleg. Nihilus gave a muffled cry as several of her teeth were knocked loose and her lips split along their edges. Dash snarled as she raised her hoof again.

“Dashie!”

Dash looked up to see that the puppet reinforcements had arrived. She slapped Nihilus with the book again for good measure, then took flight and crossed the room in an instant. She reached out a hoof as she approached the other pony, and Pinkie Pie grabbed her, pulling Dash from the air so that she turned over Pinkie Pie’s back and landed on her hind legs. They stood back to back, surrounded by over a dozen earthpony and pegasi puppets, while Rarity, Applejack, and Fluttershy, faced the two unicorns not twenty feet away from them.

The puppets came at them.

Dash tripped the first one to approach, then drove a hoof into its neck, using her wings to add downward thrust to the blow. As she stood on the ground over the dissipating puppet, Pinkie flipped over her back and broke a pegasi’s neck with her hind legs. Dash caught a kick from a pegasus puppet, shattered its leg bones with a twist, then caught it in a headlock and broke its neck as it fell to all fours.

A metal shard, encased in glowing red unicorn magic, sped through the air towards her, but Pinkie Pie tossed a pegasus puppet into its path. The shard stuck the puppet in the chest, and the pegasus vanished. Dash spun around on one hind leg, kicking the flat end of the shard before it could fall the floor. Her aim was flawless, and the shard flew point-first through an earthpony puppet’s eye.

Dash flapped her wings, gracelessly flipping over another puppet and grabbing it by its head with her hooves. As she came down from her flip, she flapped her wings downwards, smashing the puppet’s head into the floor with bone-crunching force and destroying it.

She saw Pinkie Pie trip two earthpony puppets, and they hit the floor. Their eyes met Fluttershy’s across the room, and one by one, they vanished. Dash looked over to see Applejack, bleeding from several holes in her side and with one eye slashed out, kick through a unicorn’s force-field and send it sprawling.

Rainbow Dash took the opportunity to cross the room with two beats of her wings, her mane blazing a trail behind her. She landed on the unicorn as it threw Applejack backwards, and shoved a hind leg into the back of its neck. Its head bowed, and Dash twisted it toward where Fluttershy sat on the floor. The pegasus stared at it, and it vanished into a cloud of dark smoke.

“Ah was doin’ fine on my own, thanks!” Applejack said. Dash didn’t have time to respond. She looked up to see Rarity still dueling the other unicorn between them and Pinkie Pie. Half of her mane was burnt off and a scratch ran along her neck through her scarf. The puppet threw a series of metal shards at her, and she deflected them with her blade. Dash moved towards her.

Pinkie Pie gave a cry, and everypony looked over to see her surrounded by the remaining puppets, a bone in one foreleg bent at an awkward angle.

Rarity shouted, “Jump!” and broke her blade, sending it towards the puppets threatening Pinkie and leaving herself defenseless.

The unicorn between Rarity and the puppets deflected several of the diamonds, but not all of them. Half a dozen went flying past it towards Pinkie Pie and the other puppets.

The unicorn threw another steel shard at Rarity.

Dash moved to intercept it as Pinkie Pie threw herself belly up into the air. Pinkie flipped over the diamonds, and the puppets behind her were torn full of holes as Rainbow Dash batted the steel shard coming for Rarity back towards the unicorn.

Rarity began to bring the diamonds back towards herself as Pinkie Pie landed from her back-flip. Pinkie jumped once more, and one of her hooves was suddenly supported by the flat of one of Rarity’s diamonds. Another diamond pushed against one of Pinkie’s hooves, and she sprung off of them, using Rarity’s blade as a support in midair. A third diamond zipped underneath her face, and Pinkie Pie grabbed it in her teeth.

Pinkie Pie soared head down over the only remaining unicorn puppet, releasing the gem when she was directly above it. Rarity took the cue, sending the diamond speeding downward toward the unicorn puppet’s head. The puppet, focusing its attention on Rarity and Rainbow Dash, did not realize the danger until too late. It looked up, and the diamond tore through its head, causing it to dissipate.

Pinkie Pie landed, skidding to a halt, and nursed her broken foreleg. Rarity reassembled her diamond blade in front of her. Applejack screwed her one good eye shut, and several pieces of metal were forced out of her body as her wounds closed. She brushed a hoof across her slashed eye, and the gore wiped away to reveal that it, too, had fully healed. Fluttershy stood weakly, a huge bruise around her neck. Rainbow Dash folded her wings and looked around at her friends.

“We kick ass,” she said.

“No!” The entire citadel shook as Nihilus Nix Naught appeared in the center of the room. Her lips were torn at the edges from where Dash had forced the book down her throat, and blood ran down her face and neck in rivulets. The flesh around her red eye was swollen, and the gash Rarity had made along her face had reopened. She stood with a hind leg off of the ground. She had her purple eye closed tightly.

Her horn glowed, and the ceiling cracked. Several chunks of stone tore their way free, held by Nihilus’s magic. “You will die!” She screamed, throwing a chunk of stone at Fluttershy. The huge hunk of stone was met in midair, however, by another massive rock, and the two exploded, raining bits of rock down on the entire room. Dash ducked and covered her head. The others did the same.

Luna had intercepted Nihilus’s stone with her own. Dash wondered where Luna could have possibly found the strength to lift the rocks with magic. She had been beaten near to death twice in the past two hours.

Luna blocked another huge hunk of stone, and all the five ponies could do was take cover as rocks as big a hoof rained down upon them. The citadel shuddered. Luna spoke, punctuating every word by knocking another stone out of the air as she limped across the room to stand with them.

“Thou. Shalt. Not. Harm. Them!”

Nihilus snarled. “If not by stone,” she screamed, “then by fire! The air in the room suddenly became searing hot as Nihilus was surrounded by a torrent of deep red flames. The ponies recoiled, but the spinning inferno expanded, pushing outward. From the center of the inferno, Dash heard Nihilus cackling.

Luna’s horn glowed, and the princess conjured a thin white barrier that encompassed them all. Instantly the temperature around them felt cooler. Luna grunted, seeming to crumple under the weight of the spell. The Princess turned away from the flames, clearly in pain. She screamed once, and the barrier around them collapsed as her legs buckled under her.

The fire spread outward, and the heat became unbearable. Dash felt her skin blister as she shielded her eyes, backing away only to hit one of the broken cages.

The heat vanished.

A ripple of violet translucence travelled outward from the center of the room, extinguishing the raging inferno. Dash looked up, to see Nihilus standing tall on the central platform. Her red eye was open, but seemed somehow dim. Her purple eye, by contrast, burned so brightly that it was painful to look at. She regarded the six ponies on the ground in front of her, then her mangled mouth formed a tiny smile. It was an expression Dash knew the unicorn to be incapable of. Nihilus spoke, in a voice that was not her own:

“Enough, Nihilus. This contest is over. You have lost.”

No, Nihilus thought, not her. Anypony but her.

Twilight had somehow seized control. It wasn’t supposed to be possible; the Sliver of Darkness was made to imprison her. Nevertheless, she had felt the other pony inside her overflow into her body and speak. Nihilus gathered her willpower, and threw the other pony away, once again gaining control of their body.

“No!” she screamed. “I have five of the Elements of Harmony! I cannot lose now!”

Twilight’s mind once again overwhelmed hers. The other unicorn had more willpower than Nihilus could have possibly imagined.

“You think you can control the Elements of Harmony just like that?”

Nihilus had to gather her wits. She had to come up with enough willpower to take their body back. She wondered again how Twilight was even able to take control in the first place.

“Well you’re wrong!”

Nihilus focused, forcing herself to take control once again. Twilight’s willpower wasn’t so strong, really.

She was furious. She had been so close, the Bearers had been within her grasp. She was tired of complications, of being denied what was rightfully hers. She tore a chunk of stone from the crumbling ceiling with her mind.

“How!” she screamed, her grip on the stone tightening until it cracked. “How are you doing this?” She threw the separate rocks at Twilight’s friends, careful to avoid Rarity. She would save Generosity, if she could.

Twilight overwhelmed her almost as soon as she threw the stones. Nihilus felt the other unicorn tap into her reserve of magical energy, casting a spell with Nihilus’s power. The chunks of stone in the air all exploded at once.

Nihilus pushed against Twilight with her own will once again, but failed. She felt her lips move as if of their own accord as Twilight began to speak.

“You see Nihilus, when I saw my friends, together, fighting to save me, I felt something you can’t hope to comprehend. When I saw them there, it ignited something within us. You may be the Sliver of Darkness, but I have the one thing that can beat the darkness back.”

No! Nihilus thought frantically. She pushed again against Twilight’s mind, but it was to no avail.

“A spark.”

Nihilus gathered her thoughts. She would not lose to Twilight and her group of village ponies. She would become a god. It took extreme effort, but she forced herself back into control.

“You told me-”

Twilight batted her away again with barely a thought.

“I lied, kiddo. You can’t trick the Elements of Harmony. They know who their bearers are. They’re the five ponies standing in front of you now.”

Nihilus couldn’t curse, she couldn’t even spit or snarl. She hated Twilight. She let her hatred burn, using it as fuel for her willpower in addition to her ambition. She would win this fight, just like had won all others.

“Applejack!” Nihilus felt her mouth cry out with Twilight’s voice. Across the room, the earthpony puffed out her chest. “Who gave me hope when I believed all hope was lost, represents the spirit of...”

Nihilus felt Twilight pull the Element out of their null-space and send it flying across the room towards Applejack’s neck. The gem was once again orange. “Honesty!”

Sickened, Nihilus once again threw her willpower against Twilight’s, this time focusing on not just her will to become a god, but her desire to crush the ponies that stood before her. She broke through, and immediately tore another slab of rock out of the wall and hurled it at Fluttershy.

“She lied!” Nihilus snarled.

Twilight batted her aside once more. Nihilus didn’t know how. Twilight expended a meager amount of magical energy, and the stone turned to water, showering her friends lightly rather than crushing her. They looked quite refreshed.

“Fluttershy!” The way the pegasus snapped to her feet disgusted Nihilus. “Who showed a creature even as wicked as you compassion, represents the spirit of...”

Nihilus threw her will against Twilight Sparkle once again, and Twilight winced, falling forward slightly. Nihilus still didn’t gain control.

“Kindness!” The butterfly necklace snapped against Fluttershy’s badly bruised neck. If it hurt her, she gave no indication.

Nihilus envisioned her willpower as though it were a battering ram, and pushed her way into control. She threw a set of dark orbs at Pinkie Pie, but Twilight slapped her aside. A set of matching violet orbs zipped through the air, each perfectly intercepting Nihilus’s. How was Twilight able to fight her so well?

“Pinkie Pie!” she continued. “Who could find joy again after being brought to the brink of despair, represents the spirit of...”

This time Nihilus did not try to take control. Instead she gathered her will, preparing to strike in a way that Twilight could not counter...

“Laughter!”

The necklace sped through the air, pink gem glittering as it fixed itself to Pinkie’s neck. It was almost as though they had rehearsed. She supposed they had done this, before. Nihilus was not about to let them do to her what they did to Nightmare Moon, however.

“Rainbow Dash! Who overcame your nightmare to save a friend in need, represents the spirit of...”

Nihilus focused all of her hatred together into one tiny pinpoint. Twilight would not stop her from becoming a god.

“Loyalty!” Another Element snapped into place around its bearers neck. Nihilus would have one chance...

“And Rarity...” Twilight forced them to look at the unicorn, and Nihilus felt sick. “Who would give her own identity and be consumed by one of your twisted spells to save her friends, represents the spirit of...”

The last necklace flew through the air to settle gently around Rarity’s neck. Nihilus had decided on lightning. Twilight would not be able not intercept lightning. Her friends were as good as dead.

Nihilus threw her will against Twilight once more. She focused on her hatred for each of Twilight’s friends, for Luna, and for Twilight herself. She focused on her will to become a god, to be more powerful than any other being in existence. She would see her enemies bend and break beneath her, and they would cry out in despair. Nihilus threw all of this at Twilight to seize control, mentally preparing a lightning spell that would instantly kill her friends.

She failed. Twilight didn’t even flinch.

“NO!” She screamed at Twilight from inside her mental prison.

Twilight summoned the final Element, the Element of Magic, and placed it upon their head. She nodded to the five ponies in front of her, and their body lifted into the air. Then, Twilight spoke to her through their thoughts.

“How does it feel, Nihilus? Being powerless?”

Nihilus had no mouth to scream with. “Please!” she begged, “Don’t do this!”

The energy coursing through them burned Nihilus as Twilight’s eyes began to glow. The other five Element bearers rose into the air.

“You never deserved a moment of happiness, Nihilus. Every iota of joy you felt was one you took out of our world.”

Nihilus didn’t understand. Why hadn’t she been able to take control from Twilight at the last moment?

A rainbow beam of light shot upward from Twilight’s five friends, spearing its way through air before arcing down towards her.

“You know,” Twilight said to her, “I’m not sure if I’ll survive this. I’m not an alicorn, you see.”

What made Twilight’s willpower so strong?

“You want to know what makes me so much stronger than you, Nihilus? You want to know why I’ll beat you every time?”

From within them, the other unicorn observed the rainbow descending towards them. She remarked, more to herself than to Nihilus:

“And I thought I had a lot to learn about friendship.”

“Luna,” a voice called out. It seemed as though the sound was coming to her from very far off. Every inch of Luna’s body was screaming in pain, and it was an effort for her to simply open her eyes. The blinding light of the sun greeted her pupils, and she squinted, making out the blurred form of a pony above her.

“Luna,” the voice said again, this time clearer. Luna recognized its owner as Rainbow Dash, the other pegasus. “Get up. It’s over. We won.”

Luna gingerly got to all fours. Decades of experience allowed her to endure the pain of her injuries. She noted her broken wing with dismay. It would take days to heal, especially since she was almost completely drained of earthpony magic. The fight with Nihilus had pushed her to her limits. All of them had been pushed to their limits.

She staggered to her feet, wearily glancing around at her surroundings to take in their location. They were in a grassy field someplace, likely below wherever Nihilus had moved her ridiculous flying castle. The sun was out once more, indicating that the moon had stopped tracking it when Luna had fallen unconscious. The scenery around them would have been serene, were it not for the six heavily beaten and wounded ponies that surrounded the princess.

“Is everyone okay?” Luna squinted as her eyes still adjusted to the sunlight. She absent-mindedly told the moon to return to its usual course as she faced Rainbow Dash.

“Twilight is still out,” Dash replied. “But everyone else is fine. Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked as Luna took a step, then stumbled as her leg gave out.

“I’m not,” she said, “but I will be.”

She approached the other ponies, all of whom were gathered around the unconscious form of Twilight Sparkle. Luna couldn’t help but feel a little envy toward the unicorn for the attention she was getting. She wondered why Rainbow Dash had stayed at her side and not Twilight’s.

She spoke up as she neared them. “How did we get down here? What happened to the fortress?” Applejack stood up and turned to her, once again wearing her tattered hat. The earthpony was covered in dried blood, but had no injuries to speak of.

“It fell apart around us as soon as Twilight was done,” Applejack said. “We would have died if it weren’t for Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash.”

Fluttershy looked up from where she had been listening to Twilight’s heartbeat. “I really only carried Twilight,” she said. “Rainbow Dash got everyone else.” She turned back to her examination of the unicorn.

Luna was not startled by the information. Rainbow Dash had turned her mane to pure energy with pegasus magic. That she could slow the fall of four other ponies was hardly surprising. In fact, it was not nearly as surprising as what Fluttershy had done. Luna decided that a full analysis and explanation would have to wait, however.

“She has something in her her mouth,” Fluttershy said suddenly. Everypony leaned in as Fluttershy gently pulled Twilight’s jaws open. Luna, using a small amount magic, grabbed the tiny object stuffed into one of Twilight’s cheeks. She pulled it in front of her and examined it, curious as to what Twilight had decided to preserve before she fell unconscious.

It was an extremely detailed monopony figurine. A tiny, plain-looking earthpony wearing no clothes spun slowly in front of Luna’s face. She had a white coat, a pink mane, and unmistakable facial features. Luna quickly tucked it into her raiment, and Nihilus’s voice echoed in her mind:

“The process was much... messier than this, mind. And the result was far less useful.”

“Is Twilight fit for travel, Fluttershy? Can she be carried?”

“Um, I don’t see why not, but-”

“Grab her, Applejack.” The earthpony complied, and Fluttershy helped lift the still unconscious Twilight Sparkle onto Applejack’s back. Luna spoke up so that everypony could hear. “We need to move as quickly as possible.”

Rarity groaned. Rainbow Dash took to the air and hovered above them. “Why are we in such a hurry? What did Twilight have in her mouth?” she asked.

“We need to get under the treeline so that nopony sees us.”

Dash landed in front of Luna, blocking her path. “Answer my other question,” she demanded. “What did Twilight have?”

Luna cocked her head to the side, the pulled the figurine back out and held it in front of Rainbow Dash for her to see. “It’s Celestia,” she said. “She’s alive.”

Applejack caught up with them, trotting alongside the Princess with Twilight on her back. “What are we going to do, princess?”

“I told you. We’re going to take cover under the treeline.”

“But after that? Where are we going to go?”

Luna turned to regard the group of friends. They looked horrible, really. They had been beaten and bruised and put through more than anypony deserved. They had done it willingly, too, performing incredible feats, and, much to her surprise, they had won.

Perhaps that was what Applejack had meant, when they were both in the cells. Perhaps that was what Luna had been missing, was why Luna had lost every time she fought Nihilus. Certainly, skill and power played some part in their fights, but maybe Luna had missed something else, something greater. Twilight’s friends had been fighting for something.

Luna looked at the Celestia figurine. She had something to fight for now, too.

She reached inside herself, drawing out the meagre amount of magical energy she had left. It was, in fact, only what had recharged since she had passed out in the citadel. She didn’t need much to perform the spell, however. She closed her eyes, thought single word, and the magic came back to her as though it had never left.

Nadir.

She knew exactly what happened, even though her eyes were closed. Her blade appeared before her, a beautiful shaft of blazing moonlight. The air around the length of magical energy darkened, causing the sunlight itself to lose its intensity. She held it, not in a fighting stance, but vertically in front of her, so that it extended from just above the ground, to just below her eyes. She opened her eyes before she answered Applejack’s question.

“War, Applejack. We’re going to war.”

-

Chapter 8: My Name is Twilight Sparkle

Need to contact me for any reason? AestheticBrony@gmail.com

My Name Is Twilight Sparkle

My Name is Twilight Sparkle

Esteem gently cast a spell to dry off his coat and mane as he rose out of his bath. He used his magic to open the curtains, and the white walls and floor of his room were bathed in the light of the early morning sun. He strode over to the mirror that dominated one wall as he opened his wardrobe and examined himself. A set of combs and picks, guided by his unicorn magic, began to pick their way through his dark red mane, styling it into a sweeping wave that fell to his right and ended in dozens of curled points. A complex harness floated through the air to sit beside him, and he stepped through the various loops, fastening the straps through the metal rings until the harness hugged his body tightly. He affixed his collar, each side of which supported a strip of five yellow sunbursts within white circles, the symbol of his rank. Lastly, fourteen irregular shards of enchanted platinum-iridium made their way from the top of his bedside table to tuck themselves into their various holding places on the harness.

Dressed, he pulled a pocket watch off of his harness and checked the time: seven fifty-seven. Three minutes to breakfast. He took one more look into his own vibrant blue eyes before exiting his expansive chambers into one of the Canterlot Palace’s luxuriously carpeted hallways. Outside, his assistant was waiting for him.

Esteem gave the green pony a sharp nod as he saluted. “Good morning, cadet.”

The officer cadet fell into step beside him as he made his way down the hallway. “Good morning, sir,” he said. “I have the intelligence report you requested on the outer city loyalists.”

Esteem opened a door and they stepped out into the morning air. He allowed himself a deep breath, and smiled at how refreshing it felt. It was a cloudless day in Canterlot, already warm despite the early hour.

“Sooner than I expected,” he remarked as they made their way down a white stairway and into the palace gardens. “I shall look forward to hearing it. Unfortunately, I am scheduled to have breakfast with Prince Blueblood in the sculpture garden in two minutes. I assume everything is in order?”

“Of course, sir. The kitchen staff were somewhat... unsettled by your specific request, but I had something arranged. How do you expect the Prince will react?”

They rounded a corner of the Canterlot maze, and a small table attended by several palace staff members came into view. “I knew I could count on you to see that my order was followed, cadet. You continue to exhibit commendable ability. As to how the prince will react-” Esteem considered his cadet’s question for a moment. “Hopefully, exactly as I tell him to,” he answered finally.

The cadet gave a slight nod, graciously accepting the compliment. Then, Esteem sat at the table as the palace staff unloaded their various trays of food and set him a place. When they were finished, he dismissed them, then checked his watch once more. Eight-oh-one. Blueblood was late.

Esteem looked back to where the cadet stood, waiting. “It would seem,” he said loudly, “that our Prince is running somewhat late.”

The cadet approached the table. “Prince Blueblood has a bit of a reputation among the nobles, sir. They say he has no interest in the Canterlot government and that he spends all of his times chasing mares.”

“I’m well aware of his reputation, cadet,” Esteem said as he covered the food on the table to keep it warm. “It’s why I chose him for this particular task in the first place.” He looked around before giving a drawn-out sigh. “Still, this tardiness is rather... excessive. You might as well give me your report.”

“Yes, sir.” The cadet straightened. “As you know,” he began, “the outer city was separated from the inner city, and the inner city from the palace, by Empyrean’s magical barrier roughly one month ago, when Nihilus Nix Naught was slain by Luna and her elite task force.”

Esteem did already know all of that, but he let the cadet continue nonetheless.

“Travelling through the barrier requires the accompaniment of a unicorn who knows a specific spell. The loyalist forces in the inner city have effectively been cut off from both the palace, and the outside world. As a result, they have mostly gone underground, and will be caught eventually.”

Esteem hated Empyrean’s barrier. Its presence made them appear weak. The Prince, despite being the second most powerful being in the world, was hiding from his enemies for fear of being destroyed the same way Nightmare Moon was. Nopony knew exactly how Nightmare Moon had been vanquished, but Esteem believed trickery must have been involved. Six ordinary ponies could not have defeated an alicorn with over a millennium of power in a fair fight.

The cadet continued. “The loyalists in the outer city, however, have recently been causing a great deal of... commotion. Initially we had thought that somehow the magical talents trapped in the inner city had broken through the barrier, but now the situation appears even worse than that. Intelligence confirms that the five ponies responsible for defeating Nihilus are also responsible for most of the damage caused in the inner city in the past two weeks. It is safe to assume, then, that Luna is leading them.”

“Princess Luna, cadet,” Esteem reminded him. “The title is important.”

“Of course, sir, my apologies.”

“Now,” Esteem said, “what do we know about these five ponies? Tell me everything.”

The cadet began to name the loyalists from memory. “Applejack,” he said, “is a powerful earthpony. In addition to extreme strength and durability, we believe she has the power to spontaneously regenerate wounds. Six days ago she tore down a two-story building in a fight with a unicorn puppet. She wears-”

“That will be enough on Applejack, I think,” Esteem interrupted him. “Continue on to the next member of Luna’s team.”

The cadet nodded. “Fluttershy,” he began again, “is a pegasus, but from out observations she rarely takes the skies or the field and fights. This would suggest that she is perhaps their commander, or a close advisor to Princess Luna, rather than a soldier. We-”

“Fluttershy is easily dismissed, then. Continue.”

Again a nod. “Pinkie Pie,” he said, obviously quoting the report directly seeing as he was naming them in alphabetical order. “-Is an earthpony who appears to be trained in some kind of obscure fighting art. She uses a number of complex apparatus in the field, including grappling hooks, smoke grenades, and even firecrackers and confetti. We aren’t precisely sure what her role is on the team, but-”

“Continue.”

The cadet looked somewhat confused for a moment, but carried on nonetheless. “Rainbow Dash is a pegasus who appears to be the team’s major air power. Despite the fact that the airspace over the city is almost entirely inaccessible due to the large amount of puppets patrolling, she regularly takes to the skies and single-hoofedly defeats groups of pegasus puppets. She shows expert knowledge when it comes to hoof-to-hoof combat-”

“Continue.”

“Rarity,” the cadet said finally, “Is a unicorn possessed of interesting traits. She is able to cast a fragmented blade made of enchanted diamonds, and wields it quite skillfully in the field. Intelligence indicates that she has slain more puppets than any of the other team members, in part thanks to the nature of her weapon.”

“Tell me more.”

“Rarity appears to enjoy public appearances and engagements, so we do have a great deal of information to work with. Her blade is made up of fourteen fragments, suggesting a high level of mental ability. She worked as a designer and shopkeeper before Nihilus destroyed her home.”

“A designer, you say? What is her cutie mark?”

“Three gemstones, sir.”

“Of course,” Esteem said quietly. He looked up to see a white stallion blearily making his way down the palace steps. His mane was disheveled and his coat was unbrushed. Esteem doubted he had even washed himself. He checked his timepiece again. It told him that Blueblood was eight minutes late.

“Prince Blueblood,” Esteem nodded politely to his tardy guest. “I’m glad you could make it. Please, sit,” he gestured to the other side of the table, then removed the metal covers from the food.

Blueblood sat across from Esteem, then looked down at the food before him. He didn’t greet the General, but rather grunted in disgust at his plate, recoiling slightly as though Esteem had offered him a plate of ground-up insects rather than a healthy breakfast.

“What... is this!?” He pushed the plate away from himself. “This food may be fit for a soldier, but my royal lips will not touch such peasant food.” Blueblood looked at Esteem, clearly expecting something.

Esteem did not react to the outburst in any way. Rather, he simply levitated his utensils and took a bite of his buttered asparagus. The spoiled Prince continued.

“Boiled vegetables, squeezed fruit juice! I don’t even know what this is,” he said, levitating a grey slab of something in front of his face.

Esteem delicately swallowed the asparagus before speaking, as etiquette dictated he do. “If you don’t know what it is,” he said, “how do you know it isn’t fit for a prince? That particular morsel is my favorite.” He sliced a piece off of his own grey slab and placed it in his mouth.

“I’ll pass,” the prince said in his haughty tones. “If this is what you had me wake up three hours early for, I must say I am disappointed.” He got up to leave.

“You misunderstand, Your Royal Highness. I didn’t invite you to breakfast so that you could eat. I have a proposition for you.” He took another bite. “Please, sit.” He did not act offended by Blueblood’s complete lack of manners.

Whether it was Esteem’s lack of affront at the prince’s atrocious behaviour, or the fact that he did not scrape and bow at the prince’s complaints, Blueblood seemed intrigued. He sat once more. “Be quick about it, would you,” he said contemptuously, “I have things I’d rather be doing.”

Esteem held back a laugh at the prince’s last statement. The first thing Blueblood was like to do after their conversation was to return to bed and sleep past noon. He waited until he had finished his bite of food before speaking.

“I will traversing the barrier in roughly a week to deal with the loyalists myself,” he said. “While I had intended to do this from the start, the erection of Empyrean’s barrier put a damper on my plans. While it keeps the loyalists from getting out, it also greatly increases the difficulty in communicating with our forces. We expected the barrier would render the need for my presence on the field obsolete, but recently the conflict in the outer city has been escalating. I will take the field.”

Blueblood had begun to look impatient almost as soon as Esteem had begun speaking. “Yes, yes, but what does that have to do with me,” he said.

Esteem took another bite, slowly savoring both the meal and the look of irritation that came over Blueblood’s face as he slowly chewed his food. “The nobles within the palace barrier carry quite a bit of weight within the city. Their bloodlines have also produced a number of talented unicorns.”

“Such as myself,” Blueblood said, puffing out his chest.

“Indeed.” Esteem did not allow his expression to change. “Many of the nobles went over to the loyalists side during King Titan’s reclamation. We believe that many would, still, were it not for the barrier dividing them from the main loyalist group in the inner city. It is imperative that order be kept in my absence, a task I can only trust to a capable pony. One who expresses ability. It would be best if they were of noble blood themselves, so as not to breach the status quo.”

Blueblood looked taken aback. He may have been stupid and egotistic, but Esteem suspected that even he realized that he was obviously not a pony possessing the qualities described.

“Well of course you came to me,” he said. “But you aren’t a noble,” he accused.

Esteem could barely contain his disbelief. Surely Blueblood did not actually think that anypony believed the prince was worth something? Esteem knew himself to be quite vain— his boon from Titan, had, after all, been eternal youth, restoring him to a permanent age of twenty-two years. Blueblood’s ego, however, seemed to be so preposterously large it blinded the pony to his obvious inferiority.

He would be perfect.

The warm sun rising in the sky, the picturesque green grass surrounding them, the deliciously prepared breakfast— things were shaping up to be a perfect morning. Esteem found himself looking forward to giving the Prince a lesson. He had not educated another pony in almost two weeks. The cadet was so skilled at his job he rarely needed to be taught.

He turned his attention back to the Prince, swallowing another bite of his breakfast and wiping his mouth with a napkin politely before speaking again. “I am, however, Sir General Esteem, Knight of the Natural Order, the high prelate of King Titan, the redeemer of ponykind and the right hoof of Prince Empyrean. The hoof of god is more than fit to run things in the palace.”

Blueblood furrowed his brow as Esteem spoke. The expression did not look good on him. Esteem wondered if the Prince was actually thinking for once. “I thought that Twilight was the right hoof of Empyrean,” he said after a time. He looked genuinely confused.

Esteem made a small noise. “Prince Empyrean,” he corrected. “The title is important.” He left out the fact that Blueblood had been failing to call him by his title all morning. “In any case, the only other pony who served directly under Prince Empyrean was not Twilight Sparkle, but rather Nihilus Nix Naught, and inversion of her created by the Sliver of Darkness and tasked with killing the ponies now on my doorstep.”

Esteem took a small amount of pleasure in the look of confusion that came across Blueblood’s face. He continued:

“Her failure was hardly surprising. She was complete psychopath, a waste of the power and privilege granted to her.” He gave Blueblood a meaningful look. “Completely pathetic and worthless.” The insult was lost on the confused Prince. “Be glad that she was not Twilight Sparkle. Celestia’s pupil, the leader of her task force, is undoubtedly a master tactician and war unicorn in addition to being a perfect ten on the Coruscare scale.”

Blueblood looked well and truly lost. “May I ask, Your Royal Highness,” Esteem continued. “How you came to know the name Twilight Sparkle?”

Blueblood seemed to think for another moment as Esteem enjoyed another bite of his breakfast and a sip of orange juice. Finally, the Prince spoke: “Celestia told me that I was to stay away from her and her friends after one of them humiliated me at last year’s Grand Galloping Gala. I tried to track her down to teach her to show a little respect for her betters, but the Princess ordered me to stop.”

Esteem sighed, “Princess Cel-” he stopped as the full gravity of what Blueblood had said struck him. “One of her friends? What was her name?” he asked suddenly.

Blueblood thought for another moment. “Rarity,” he said finally.

Esteem ran his tongue over one of his front teeth. It had, along with several of his other teeth, been magically manipulated into an incisor. He hid a surge of interest at the mention of her name. “Is that so,” he said, lifting another bite of his breakfast. “Tell me about her.”

Blueblood seemed baffled at the request, but complied nonetheless. Esteem had relied on the Prince’s love of hearing his own voice, and sure enough, he delivered, launching into a story:

“Well, he began, It was the day of the Grand Galloping Gala. I had... shall we say... warmed up for the celebration by having a tumble with some red-headed earthpony ditz who actually thought I was going to take a commoner like her to the Gala. I was coming out of the gardens when I saw this unicorn.

“I’m not sure what your ‘Coruscare’ scale measures, but this mare was a perfect ten on the Flank scale, if you get what I’m saying.”

Esteem got what he was saying. The prince had not been subtle in any way, shape, or form.

“I had to have her. She was absolutely gorgeous, and you could just tell by looking at her it was her first Gala. I figured she’d be easy.”

Carsomyr. The name of Esteem’s blade was Carsomyr. In his mind, he was acutely aware of each of the fourteen razor sharp shards of platinum-iridium sitting on his person.

“Imagine my surprise when I find her to be the rudest, most vulgar mare I have ever met. I had to prompt her to pay for our snacks and open a door for me. As if I ever pay for things. She expected me to step through a puddle when she had a perfectly absorbent cloak on hoof.” The prince smirked. “I got her back, however. At the end of the night I tossed her in front of a falling cake and her appearance was simply ruined. Teach her to dress up like a lady when she’d really just a peasant,” he said the last word with intense disgust.

Esteem ran his tongue over his incisor once more.

“But then,” Blueblood continued. “She shook the mess all over me. Like a dog. Honestly,” he said, “If she’d wanted to be a dog, or should I say bitch, she should have just told me in the first place. I would have happily obliged her.” He gave a sleazy smile. “Know what I’m saying?”

Esteem sat in silence for a moment, politely finishing up the food in his mouth.

Then he laughed.

It was a deep, rich laugh, filled with genuine entertainment. He looked over at the cadet, gesturing with a hoof, and the cadet began to chuckle slightly as well. Blueblood seemed confused at his sudden outburst, but eventually joined in despite not knowing what he had said that was clever. The three of them continued to laugh together in the gardens for some time.

“Oh,” Esteem said between bouts of laughter, “I know what you’re saying.” He stopped laughing suddenly, snapping his expression in one of total seriousness, and the cadet followed suit. “You’re saying,” Esteem said dangerously. Blueblood’s laughter died out at the tone of his voice. “That you tried to play my daughter.”

Again, Blueblood furrowed his brow in thought. He looked at Esteem, and for the first time, seemed to fully take in the unicorn he had been continuously disrespecting since before he had even sat down.

His pristine white coat.

His perfectly well kept mane, done in sweeping curls.

His deep, vibrant blue eyes.

Blueblood backed away from Rarity’s father. “You can’t be!” he said incredulously. “You’re so-”

Faster than Blueblood could close his mouth, Esteem mentally directed the left point-shard of Carsomyr to detach from its place on his combat harness. It blurred through the air between them, the piece of unnaturally bright metal flashing in the morning sunlight before moving straight into Blueblood’s open mouth. There, it stopped instantly before causing the prince any harm.

He had selected the point-shard for its diminutive size, so as to give it some maneuverability whilst inside the prince’s mouth. He lamented to himself that the prince probably did not understand how incredibly difficult the precision of such an attack was. He had just displayed legendary mastery over his weapon, and only the cadet was able to appreciate it.

The prince’s mouth closed around the shard as Esteem rotated it along its side so that Blueblood would not be able to remove it. Blueblood’s eyes widened in terror as he breathed heavily through his nostrils. Esteem gently floated the shard towards himself, and Blueblood was forced to move forward with it lest it slice its way through his face.

“Young?” Esteem provided with a smile. It wasn’t the false mirth of his laugh, or the tiny smile he gave to be polite; rather it was a full, lazy grin, his sharpened teeth pressing slightly upon his lower lip. Blueblood whimpered.

“You will forgive me, Prince Blueblood, for this rather dramatic assault on your person. I simply want you to shut up for once whilst I speak.” He tilted the shard and drew it gently towards the ground. The result was that Blueblood bent before him. “Ah,” he said, regarding the prince. “I see you have finally remembered your manners. It is polite to bow before your superiors, Prince.”

He took another bite of his breakfast before continuing. The cadet refilled his orange juice.

“My daughter and I have not seen each other for almost a decade, you see. Celestia herself forbade me from ever seeing her again when she found out how I had elected to raise her. She believed that she had more say than I when it came to my own daughter’s upbringing. I imagine she was reminded of the way her father, King Titan, raised her.” He took a sip of his orange juice. The citrus drink seemed somehow... fresher than it had before. “Forbidden to see my own daughter,” he said. “That doesn’t seem very fair to you, does it, Prince Blueblood?”

He moved the point-shard from left to right, and from his place beneath Esteem, Blueblood shook his head. Tears were running down his face, as well as a small trickle of blood that originated from the corner of his mouth. The prince was trying and failing to suppress his shaking.

“Nevertheless,” Esteem continued, “I think that I have raised my daughter well. I taught her to protect herself, you see. I did not shield my daughter from the world, but rather taught her to shield herself. And look at what she has done so far. She helped to defeat Nightmare Moon. She helped to defeat Discord. She helped to defeat Nihilus. She protected herself from you, when I was not there to do so for her.”

He telekinetically moved the table and all of its contents to the side so as to clear the space between himself and Blueblood. Then, he drew the prince upward with Carsomyr’s point-shard.

“I made her strong.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I made her... superior.” He shuddered slightly as his favorite word left his lips. “Still,” he looked down at the prince, “I have neglected many of my duties as a father.” Prince Blueblood looked up to Esteem, his eyes pleading. Esteem looked out in the direction of the city. “Rarity is coming home to me,” he said softly.

He turned back to Blueblood. “And I feel that since she is setting such a good example as a daughter, I must strive to be the best father I can be.” He leaned down. Blueblood was covered with sweat, and his uncontrollable shaking was causing him to cut his mouth on the point-shard. Esteem could sense, through his magical link with the shard, the blood around the blade. He could almost taste it.

“What was it you said, about my daughter? You wanted ride her like the peasant bitch she is?”

Blueblood tried to talk despite being unable to open his mouth lest the shard cut into the back of his throat. The resulted was a desperate, muffled cry. Esteem stood up straight. “I’m not sure exactly what punishment is appropriate,” he mused.

He drew the leftmost bridge-shard off of his combat harness. When Carsomyr was assembled, the bridge served no purpose but to fit with the point, core, and edge pieces and comprised the blade’s fuller. Despite its intended position in the whole, however, it was still made of extremely sharp edges and points for when he needed to use the shards as individual weapons. Being a bridge-shard, it was the longest, thinnest piece of his blade. Esteem had selected it for just that reason.

He lifted his point-shard so that Blueblood was forced to tilt his head back, then slowly levelled the bridge-shard so that it pointed directly into Blueblood’s pupil. “I could gouge one of your eyes out,” he said to himself thoughtfully. Blueblood was only able to draw his head so far away from the shard before it cut the inside of his mouth even more. More blood ran down the front of his face.

“Yes.” Esteem continued to speak as though they were having a casual conversation over breakfast. “I rather like the idea of disfigurement. It will encourage hesitation in the other nobles should they think to oppose me— as so many of you already have. But is a single eye really enough? I wonder, what would Rarity want? You know her better than I, Prince Blueblood, so tell me: would my daughter take more than simply your eye?”

Blueblood, unable to move his head for the point-shard in his mouth, managed only to shake his head by millimeters. Esteem moved the point-shard up and down, and a fresh set of tears ran down Blueblood’s face as he was forced to nod.

“I see. I commend your honesty, Your Highness. Were I in your situation I would have lied. Especially considering it is physical beauty at stake. Ah, well.” He sighed as Blueblood made another pitiful muffled noise. “I suppose I could also slit your tongue.” He rubbed his chin with a hoof. “Or sever your ears, or burn away your mane. Castration seems to fit the offense quite nicely.” Blueblood paled, and his shivering grew violent. More blood dribbled out of his mouth as he made a pathetic whinny.

“Stay still,” Esteem said suddenly. “Open your mouth, but do not speak.” He rotated the shard again as Blueblood did as commanded. He pulled the point-shard, dripping with blood and saliva, out of the prince’s mouth. Blueblood immediately turned and began to run.

Esteem sheathed both of Carsomyr’s shards and grabbed the Prince with telekinesis. He dragged him back as he gently moved the breakfast table back into place with another bit of magic. He forcibly turned Blueblood’s head so that the Prince faced him. “What kind of idiot foal,” he said levelly, “turns his back to his opponent and then does not use the spell that would protect him from said opponent’s telekinesis?” He took a sip of his orange juice, aware of the fact that Blueblood was suffocating under the iron grip of his mind. “When I release you, you will stay and be quiet.” He dropped the Prince.

Blueblood made no attempt to run, and did not say a word. “So even one as thick as you can be taught,” Esteem observed coolly. “Now sit down and eat your breakfast while I explain to you some crucial information.”

Blueblood’s breathing was uneven, and he was still shaking. The front of his face was covered in blood, tears, and spit. One side of him was dirty from where Esteem had dragged him across the ground. He sat, never meeting Esteem’s eyes, and began to forcibly swallow pieces of asparagus.

“You seem to be under the impression, Blueblood, that your royal blood makes you special. That you have an inborn amount of privilege and superiority. This is false.” Blueblood continued to eat mechanically, staring down at his plate as Esteem carried on. “You think that I am Prince Empyrean’s right hoof because it is my birthright? Do you think that King Titan has the power to rule the world because he is king? It is the other way around. King Titan is king because he has the power to rule the world. Because he has no equal. Power is privilege, Prince.

“The nobles disagree. They can stand a general who appears noble, who follows proper etiquette. But if I tell them that the palace is being left in the charge of a cadet, they will grow even more restless than they already are. It is a small problem, with an easy solution. I will grant you power over the palace when I leave. You will be a figurehead, however, and the cadet will ensure that things run smoothly in my stead.

“I chose you because I know that you are so inept, so incapable, that even if you had the moxy to use your new-found legislative powers against me, you would not be able to. You are simply too stupid. So, you are to do exactly as the cadet tells you, and the nobility will not object to your appointment. Do you understand?”

Blueblood, still shivering, nodded. He looked down at his plate, which was empty but for a single piece of food. He prodded it gently with his fork.

“It’s chicken breast,” Esteem said simply.

Blueblood gave him a look of absolute horror. “I figured it would emphasize not just one, but both of the points I am trying to make here today. I needed to be absolutely certain you understood, and you have a reputation for being rather thick, Your Highness.” Esteem leaned over the table and gave another smile. “I can, should I choose to do so, slaughter and eat any animal I wish. I do not do this for fun, or even because I like the taste, I do it because I can. There is nothing to make one feel superior quite like eating meat, Your Highness.

“There is nothing wrong about eating meat, just as there is nothing right about it. You think that Celestia’s old rules determine what is morally acceptable? Celestia is dead. Titan chooses what is right and wrong now, and he does so not because of his divine right, but only because there is not a force on this world capable of opposing him. The ultimate authority, the only true authority, is power. That is the first lesson.

“The second lesson stems naturally from the first: I am more powerful than you. When I return from the field, Carsomyr awash in the blood of my enemies, I will decide on whether or not to revoke your punishment based on your performance. This means that you will do exactly as the Cadet and I tell you. Should he require it, you are to nod along as surely as if my blade were still in your mouth. To start, you are going to eat your chicken,” Esteem finished, giving his guest an expectant look.

Blueblood winced, then slowly cut a slice from the piece of meat. He grimaced as the chicken touched his bloody tongue, then chewed before giving a thick swallow. “How does it taste?” Esteem asked the Prince with another smile.

Blueblood looked as though he was holding back vomit. “Delicious,” he said hoarsely.

“I’m glad we could come to an understanding,” Esteem rose, then turned to the cadet. “See to it that our Prince finishes his breakfast.”

The cadet nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“With any luck, you will prove to me that you are worthy of remaining in the pony gene pool.” Esteem turned towards the steps leading back up to the palace. “And I will not have to forcibly remove you from it. Have a good morning, Your Highness.”

Having enjoyed an excellent breakfast, Esteem set off for Empyrean’s throne room, not a hair out of place.

A unicorn puppet met Esteem outside of the wide double doors that led into the Court of the Sun. It approached Esteem with an unusual amount of autonomy, leaving its partner puppet to guard the doors alone. When it reached the General, it spoke in the metallic, hollow voice shared by all of Terra’s mindless soldiers.

“General Esteem,” it said. “My name is Puppet. I am to accompany you into the Court of the Sun, by the orders of King Titan.”

Esteem gave the puppet a once-over. “I see,” he said as he turned toward the doors. “Will the King be speaking with his son?”

“Yes.”

Esteem raised an eyebrow. It was certainly shaping up to be an interesting morning. He opened the doors with a magical thought and they strode unannounced into Empyrean’s court.

Prince Empyrean did not look much like the deity who had controlled the sun before him. His coat was still white, and his mane was the flowing mass of multi-hued energy that Celestia had possessed. He wore a similar set of royal garments, and a tiny gold crown rested upon his head. Where Celestia had carried a regal bearing, however, Empyrean’s manner was that of a petulant child. He was sprawled comfortably across a cushion in the center of the room, rather than sitting with the posture that his station demanded. He looked bored.

Since citizens could not actually come to court due to Empyrean’s barrier, the only ponies in the large, well-lit chamber were the nobles who resided within the palace. There were perhaps a dozen of them, all trying to gain power by associating with the new prince, no doubt.

The door closed loudly behind him, and everypony in the room turned to look at him, their conversations coming to a halt. Esteem took the small group of noble-ponies in with a single, disdainful sweep of his eyes.

“Get out,” he said to the silent nobles.

Since Empyrean spent most of his time indoors socializing with the noblemen and struggling to control his godlike powers, Esteem had been, for the most part, ruling Canterlot for over a month. While he was not harsh or cruel, and did go out of his way to make himself feared, there was not a pony in the palace who did not know exactly who he was. He heard, through his subordinates, the rumors that ponies said about him.

Esteem killed Twilight Sparkle, Celestia’s favorite pupil, some said. Esteem was the one who released Titan. Esteem eats meat. Esteem eats pony meat. Esteem killed forty ponies alone on the night of Titan’s ascension, then licked their blood from his blade. Esteem is a forty year old stallion, but somehow appears to be twenty. Esteem killed a gryphon when he was nine.

All of them were at least somewhat true, and as Esteem looked at the nobles standing in the Court of the Sun, he could see their eyes flash with uncertainty, and knew that they were likely recalling the rumors. When Empyrean did not tell them to stay, they left, shuffling quietly out by way of the smaller doors lining the sides of the court.

It was only after they had left that Esteem dipped his head and bent his legs, bowing to his Prince. He was only going through the motions, however. He neither loved nor respected Titan’s whelp.

“Why did you have to send them away?” Empyrean whined as Esteem approached. “Lord Goldsworthy was telling me a story. It was about a silly filly who-”

“I will be leaving the palace this afternoon, your highness,” Esteem said simply.

At this, Empyrean eyes widened and his mouth hung open limply. “You can’t!” he said. “What if they come for me!”

Esteem resisted the urge to spit. “My prince, Luna and the five are safely on the other side of two impassable barriers. You have almost half of the sum total of all our puppets here to protect you at the palace. And you have more power than all of them combined.”

“You can’t know that!” Empyrean snapped impetuously. He shifted on his enormous cushion. “They defeated Nightmare Moon, and she was stronger than Cel-” He stopped in the middle of saying her name, working his mouth as though he had almost uttered a swear. “Me,” he finished.

Esteem ran his tongue over a sharpened tooth. “They still cannot reach you, Your Highness. I intend to take the field and crush the remaining rebels, the five included. I will not be taking many of the puppets with me. We already have more than a thousand in the field, my truepony soldiers not included. I will defeat Celestia’s elite, and then you will not need to worry.”

“But why not just stay here,” Empyrean stomped a hoof on the ground in the manner you might expect from a five year old refusing to go to bed. “They’ll all give up or die of old age eventually.”

Once again, Esteem had to restrain his frustration. Because I need to make war, my Prince, just as Titan needs to rule. It is my purpose. “I cannot keep the city running smoothly for much longer while it is under your barrier. The barrier must soon come down, and you will not do that until the loyalists are crushed. So I have taken it upon myself to crush the loyalists.”

Empyrean’s face twisted into a mix between a pout and a scowl, and he stood. “No!” he said, sounding more like a colt throwing a temper tantrum than a god. “I forbid you to leave the palace! The risk to my person is too great.”

Esteem barely kept his temper under control. Titan’s little whelp would not keep him from his eldest daughter. Rarely did Empyrean exercise his authority as Titan’s only son. Esteem simply needed to be firm. He gritted his teeth.

“My prince, the city can barely function under your barrier as things are. If it stays up any longer, Canterlot will collapse. The people will starve.”

“Then let them!” Empyrean shouted. “I am their god, and they’ll starve at my behest! You will stay here, Esteem, and protect me.”

Before Esteem could come up with reply to Empyrean’s childish declaration, he heard the slap of a pony hitting the floor behind him. He turned, to see that the unicorn puppet who had accompanied him into the Court of the Sun had fallen onto the ground and was shaking violently as seizures racked its body. As he watched, it spoke, but not in the hollow voice of a puppet.

“I am assuming control.”

It was a fluid, resonating voice that forced its way into Esteem’s mind, demanding his attention in an unsettling manner. It was the voice of their god.

As he watched, the unicorn’s eyes shot open, their usual red replaced with a blazing white. A ripple of incandescent energy travelled down the puppet’s mane, and it burst into a flowing mass of white ether. The puppet stood and regarded the two occupants of the room with an intelligent, dispassionate gaze. On its flank burned the ghostly imprint of a simple white circle.

Esteem already has his muzzle pressed to the floor of the court. His bow was not the mocking gesture he had used for Blueblood, or the controlled observance of etiquette he had given to Prince Empyrean, but rather a genuine act of obeisance. Titan deserved his respect. Behind him, he knew that Empyrean was doing the same.

“You may rise,” Titan said simply. Then he looked at his son with his unreadable expression. “Were I here in my true form, Empyrean, I would cause you pain.”

The Prince flinched. “Father, I-”

Titan waved a hoof and Empyrean flinched again, shutting his mouth. The king continued. “A month has passed since Nihilus died and you erected your barrier, Empyrean. Her death did not bother me— she had already served her purpose in helping us create you. The barrier did not upset me, either— you have every right to protect yourself from Celestia’s elite. Even I do not yet know how they defeated Nightmare Moon, an answer that I am certain will come to us in time.”

He slowly crossed the distance between himself and son, drawing each step out to an agonizing pace. “My displeasure comes at the fact that you have failed in your purpose. Ponykind is supposed to fear you, my son. Yet they fight Terra’s puppets in the streets of Canterlot, your seat of power. If you insist upon not leaving the palace to smite them yourself, then you will allow General Esteem to do it for you. Have I made myself clear?”

Empyrean bowed once more. “Yes, father, but-” Again Titan silenced him with a raised hoof.

“Celestia managed your task masterfully. She made ponykind respect her as a ruler and love her as a princess. She manipulated them into believing they ruled themselves even as they called her a god. She made them brand her enemies as their own and then thank her for destroying them. Even now, they still love her and rebel.

“I do not expect you to do as Celestia did, my son, but you will at least keep order. Chaos and discord among ponykind draws attentions that I would rather remain elsewhere.”

Esteem shrank away as the much smaller pony approached him. “I will do better, father,” he promised.

“You will,” Titan said simply. “I am currently at the heart of the Everfree Forest. It is taking more time than expected to undo the damage that Celestia did to this world over the course of a thousand years. Soon, however, the natural order will be restored. Ensure that Canterlot is in order when that happens. Ensure that ponykind is ready to accept its place. Or I will once again command Terra to strike them down.”

Empyrean opened his mouth as if to speak, and Titan once again silenced him with a raised hoof. The King could make the gesture seem very dramatic, Esteem observed. He supposed it came with three thousand years of practice. “Leave us,” Titan said.

Esteem realized that the king had been speaking to Empyrean, not himself. What would his king need of him that Empyrean couldn’t hear? The Prince gave an indignant pout, then flew over them and left by way of the main doors.

“General,” The possessed puppet turned to face Esteem, and he bowed. “You are not to completely destroy the loyalists,” he said simply.

Esteem raised his eyebrows, bewildered. “Your majesty?”

“Certainly, it is my wish that you destroy the remaining members of Celestia’s task force. You will also kill many of their members and aid in capturing Luna. But you will allow several of its leaders to escape and continue fighting for their cause. Enough of them must die that Empyrean abolishes his barrier, but I wish for a small amount of rebels to remain in Canterlot at all times.”

“If I may ask, my King-”

“Empyrean is an incompetent brat.” Titan said the words evenly, never putting any feeling behind them. “He acts like a spoiled infant. He lacks the decisiveness and temperament that a ruler requires. He erects a ridiculous barrier rather than crushing the rebel forces himself. He is not worthy of the power I have given him. Celestia’s power.”

Titan turned and strode to one of the many tall windows that lined the Court of the Sun. “He has the mind of a child now, but as he grows older he will mature. There will be rebels in this city when he does, and I will teach him how to crush them. It will take many years, and put strain on ponykind.”

Strain. Thousands of ponies would starve, if not tens of thousands. The economy would collapse. Esteem realized that Titan would gladly allow those things to happen in order to properly raise his son. He would do the same for his daughters, after all.

“In the end, however, Empyrean will grow up during a time of war. He will learn to keep ponykind in check, and ponykind will learn to fear him. Those are their places in the order.”

Esteem marvelled at the simple elegance of Titan’s plan. The majority of ponykind’s sympathies might lie with the loyalists at present, but in a decade? Would ponykind support the loyalists after ten years of conflict fighting for princesses that were obviously not coming back? They would likely welcome an end to the fighting. They would worship Empyrean for delivering them from war. Empyrean would grow up learning to handle dissent among his people.

“A fine decision, Your Majesty.”

Titan ignored the praise. “The last matter I wish to speak with you about is Luna, General. She is inside the city,” he said simply.

Esteem had no idea how Titan had gotten his information. “We suspected as much when her five began to attack our forces in the outer city, but we weren’t certain.”

“You are certain now, General. This form is fragile, and takes a great deal of power to sustain. I will, however, be able to defeat my weakest daughter without leaving the Everfree. Should you encounter Luna on the battlefield, you will leave her to me. Your task is to kill the five.”

The King did not give Esteem the chance to respond. He simply vanished into the cloud of dark smoke that all puppets produced upon death. Kill the five, Titan had said.

“All but one, you majesty.”

Dear Diary,

Tonight I went with the gang to see Starsworl’s comet. It only comes once every thirty-four years. It wasn’t as interesting as the meteor shower, but we still had a blast, even if I didn’t learn anything about friendship in the process. I don’t spend time with them just to learn lessons for the princess. I spend time with them because they’re my friends.

...Actually, that sounds like it could almost be a lesson. Maybe I should write to the princess. But then what if she doesn’t think it’s good enough and she accuses me of not committing to my studies! She could stop thinking I’m her most faithful student! I’d just be Twilight Sparkle, ‘student’. OR she’d abandon me altogether, and I’d have to find another way of life! I’d have to change my name out of shame and go into hiding! I’d end up working at Pony Joe’s to get by, a unicorn named Betty who dyes her mane because she’s secretly in EXILE! Best not to send her a letter about it. BUT what if she finds out that I didn’t send her a letter and she thinks that I THINK that she isn’t worth my time!? I could hurt her feelings so much that she-

Right, I just read that last paragraph out loud. I’ll just tell her about the meteor shower tomorrow. Which reminds me, tomorrow I’ll be in Canterlot to spend the night with BOTH of the princesses! Be ready for an interesting diary entry then!-Twilight Sparkle

Twilight sat at the centre of one of the dining hall’s long trestle tables. She was attended to by four of the palace guards, all of whom were unicorns. Aside from the guards and Spike, who was fast asleep on the table beside her, the large hallway was empty. She smiled as the sleeping dragon blew a bubble with his own spit, then shielded her plate as it burst.

“I feel bad making the four of you just stand around and watch me eat,” she said to the palace guards. “I know my way around the palace. I really don’t need an escort. Not that I don’t like having any of you around!” she said hastily, “it’s just that I’m sure you must be a little bored.” She piled fourteen peas onto her spoon, then happily put the food in her mouth. She hadn’t eaten since morning.

“A high-profile pony such as yourself being given an escort is tradition, Miss Sparkle.” one of the guards said breezily. “Besides, a soldier should always delight in doing his duty.”

Twilight flushed at being called a “high-profile pony”. “Me?” she said, “I’m just a student. And you can still do your duty sitting down. You must be tired of standing around.”

The guard who had spoken approached and sat, and the other guards gave him looks that suggested he was breaking some secret rule. Twilight noticed that under the ceremonial armor of the palace guards, he had on a complex harness.

Twilight swiftly swallowed her peas. “Is that a blade harness?” she asked with a surge of genuine curiosity. “I’ve read about those! You’re a bladecaster?”

The pony sat across from her. “Captain Esteem, at your service.” He gave a mini-bow.

Twilight scooped up another spoonful of peas. She counted thirteen, so she added a pea to her spoon before taking a bite. While she did this, the Captain removed his helmet and shook out a luxurious red mane.

Something about the action gave nagged at Twilight’s memory. “Have I... met you before? You look familiar.” Twilight wasn’t sure just what about the Captain Esteem she found interesting. There was definitely something about him that she couldn’t quite place, however.

Esteem stood and unfastened his cuirass with telekinesis. It clattered to the floor before him, leaving his front bare. “I imagine that I would,” he said, giving her a tiny smile. “I believe you know my daughter, Rarity.”

Twilight tilted her head slightly, confused. Beside her spike continued to sleep. “Rarity?” she said. “But her parents—”

“I know nothing about whatever couple took them in almost ten ago,” Esteem interrupted briskly. “But I assure you, Miss Sparkle, that I am both Rarity and Allure’s father.” He continued to remove pieces of his armor, letting them fall to the floor around him unceremoniously. The other three guards were exchanging glances.

Twilight examined the Captain closely. He did have a striking resemblance to Rarity. “Rarity doesn’t have a sister named Allure,” she said slowly. She started to get a bad feeling about the Captain. Where were Celestia and Luna?

Esteem regarded her for a moment. “She does have a sister though, yes? Unicorn, white coat, a mane of lavender and carnation?”

“Sweetie Belle...” Twilight whispered.

Esteem nodded once, then dropped another plate of armor to the ground. “What her mother wanted to name her,” he said simply. “That is, before I had her killed.”

“Captain!” one of the guards exclaimed. They began to move toward the centre of the room.

The unease that she had been feeling intensified into real fear. Twilight stood and began to back away. “Who are you?”

The last piece of Esteem’s armor fell to the floor with a clang. He wore only his harness, upon which sat several sharpened shards of an unknown metal. Platinum-Iridium, the logical part of Twilight’s brain though involuntarily. The only metal that is both hard and conducive to enchantments. “I told you,” he said, “I am Captain Esteem, redeemer of ponykind and father to Rarity and Sweetie Belle.”

The three other guards now surrounded Esteem. “Captain,” one of them said in a tone that was half warning, half pleading.

Esteem raised a hoof, and the guard stopped talking immediately as if out of habit. “I intend to cause harm to your charge, soldiers,” he said lightly. “Act.”

“Captain, is some kind of test? A joke? This is not—”

Twilight watched in horror as the soldier’s neck suddenly exploded, blood splashing outward as a piece of Esteem’s blade tore through the stallion’s throat. It continued along its trajectory, bursting through the other end of the guard’s neck and trailing blood through the air.

Before Esteem had even turned to face the other guards, a long, thin piece of his blade had thrust its way into one of the other unicorn’s eyes. Esteem had turned around before the body even struck the floor, facing the only remaining guard.

The last guard looked down at his fallen comrades, then back up to his captain with disbelief. His eyes flashed with a mixture of rage and terror, and his horn began to glow as he readied a spell. Esteem raised a single eyebrow, and the shard that had slain the first guard whipped across the guard’s throat so quickly it sent the other unicorn flying. A spray of hot blood struck Twilight, the fluid splattering across her face and the front of her body.

Twilight’s mind could barely register what was happening. She flinched at the blood, and her legs began to shake. A deep, primal terror welled up in the pit of her stomach. She had never seen somepony die before. She had certainly never seen somepony kill before. She knew she was in danger, but she just didn’t know what to do. She silently begged for Princess Celestia to come for her.

It had taken Esteem seconds to murder all of the other guards. Twilight watched in horror as the Captain lowered three more shards to surround Spike, who had slept through the entire ordeal. She let out a quiet sound that was halfway between a yelp and a squeak. The Captain ignored her, instead leaning down to speak softly to the final guard as he lay on the floor, gurgling and spitting as he died.

“No, soldier,” Esteem said quietly. “It was not a test.” He stood and faced Twilight. “If you teleport, or attempt any magic of any kind, I will kill your dragon.”

Twilight tried to move her legs, but they didn’t respond. She managed to nod weakly as she made a small whimpering noise. Please, she thought, Celestia.

“Any noise you make will not be audible outside this room,” Esteem said calmly. “Relinquish the hold on your body.”

Twilight shut her eyes. Unicorns could move anything with their telekinesis— including other ponies. A unicorn could only move something that another unicorn did not already have hold of, however. While it was considered extremely rude to grab another pony in most cases, almost every unicorn still kept themselves under a spell that made them immune to another unicorn’s manipulation. It was an effortless spell, after all.

“The dragon means as much to me as the guards did, Miss Sparkle. You have until the count of three. One.”

“Celestia,” she whispered, “where are you?”

Esteem tilted his head and regarded her with a curious expression. “Do not count on your god to save you. The only pony you can count on for protection is yourself. Two.”

Twilight didn’t know what Esteem was going to do to her, but if he had wanted to simply kill her, he could have used his blade. Spike was going to die unless she gave complete control of her body over to a murderer. Celestia, please! She looked at the Captain, then over to Spike, still sleeping soundly on the table. “You’re nothing like her,” she said as she disabled the spell.

Immediately she was pinned back-down to the ground beneath her. She heard hoof-steps, and Esteem appeared above her. She found she could still move her face.

“Understand, Miss Sparkle,” Esteem carried on as though they were still talking over dinner, “that this is nothing personal. I am simply following orders. Although-” He produced a black sliver, much tinier than any of the parts of his blade. It glittered as he moved it to float over her body. “A soldier should delight in following orders.”

Twilight knew that nopony could hear her, but she screamed anyway. “Celestia! Luna! Celestia!” Esteem continued to move the sliver, bringing it directly above her face. “Mom!” Twilight cried desperately. “Dad!”

The sliver stopped directly above her right eye, and Twilight tried to recoil from it. Esteem telekinetically forced her head to face upward, and pried her eyelid open.

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked as he leaned down.

He shook his head. “No,” he said. “Unfortunately, you should survive the process. Goodbye, Twilight Sparkle.”

The sliver descended.

Dear Twilight’s Diary.

Aren’t you cute? Maybe I’d have a use for all of these saccharine writings if I didn’t already have access to all of Twilight’s memories, but I do, so I don’t. Tomorrow I’m going to assault Cloudsdale and hopefully become one step closer to godhood. Be ready for an interesting diary entry then!

How DISGUSTING. I’m going to laugh as I feed this to Rainbow Dash and Twilight screams. If the racket she’s giving me NOW is any indication, her agony will be quite entertaining. I’m surprised that after being with me a week you’re still sane, kiddo.

- N

Twilight woke up screaming.

She felt a weight on her body, and thrashed around, desperately trying to push whatever it was away from her. Her eyes shot open, but something was covering her face, inhibiting her vision. As she flailed her forelegs, she realized that the slight weight she felt was only a blanket, and she had pushed it up over her head. She grabbed the fabric and pulled, tearing the blanket away from herself.

She didn’t spend much time taking in the room around her, instead immediately rolling herself out of the bed. She hit the floor, gasping for breath, then pushed herself across the room with her hind legs, coming to rest against a bookshelf that was beside the bed. Her head darted left and right, and she took in her surroundings. She was alone, in the library.

Alone. The surge of relief she felt at the though made it feel as though she had just been given a full-body massage. All of her muscles relaxed, and her breathing steadied. Nihilus was dead. Twilight was in control again. Rainbow Dash had been freed from the nightmare. Fluttershy was alive. All of her friends were alive.

So why weren’t they there with her?

She remembered the fortress crumbling around her as she had channeled the power of the Elements of Harmony. If it had collapsed, would Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash have been strong enough to carry them all to safety? Obviously somepony had brought Twilight back down, so the others were likely safe. She couldn’t have been unconscious for long. Why was nopony with her?

She closed her eyes and a flurry of much darker memories came to her. She remembered screaming in protest as Rainbow Dash writhed in agony on the ground below her, engulfed in dark magic. Nihilus had looked like Twilight, then. She had used Dash’s friendship to infect the pegasus with a nightmare, then destroy her.

She remembered tearing the Carousel Boutique apart, obliterating it with only a thought. Had Sweetie Belle been inside? Had Nihilus killed Rarity’s younger sister? She recalled the joy that the parasite had felt at the thought, and then the pure loathing she had felt at the sight of Rarity herself. All the while, Twilight had been powerless to stop her.

She remembered being forced to look into Fluttershy’s eyes— her wide, soft, innocent eyes— as Nihilus ordered Rainbow Dash to murder her. Twilight had been able to do nothing. The plan she had come up with to keep her friends alive had failed. Had Fluttershy not possessed earthpony magic, they would have all died.

Nihilus had done worse than try to kill them. She had done her best to make them suffer. All because they were her best friends. All because Twilight had not been able to stop her. All because Twilight had let herself become corrupted in the first place. Why would anypony want to be by her side when she woke up?

Slowly, Twilight unsteadily pushed herself to her feet. She hadn’t used her body in over a week. Nihilus had been doing all of that for them. She tested her legs, lifting each of them off of the ground before trotting slowly in a circle. She focused, shaping and weaving her unicorn magic into a spell. She released it, and it told her that there was no trace of foreign magic about her. Nihilus was gone. She was free.

She examined herself, noting with relief that her coat and mane had returned to their normal colors. Lastly, she conjured a mirror and checked the color of her eyes. They were both purple.

She was still the Element of Magic, and she had a responsibility. She would make things right again. She would find Luna and her former friends, and they would rescue Princess Celestia and defeat King Titan. For the first time since achieving freedom, she spoke.

“My name-”. Her voice came out hoarse and quiet from disuse, and she cleared her throat. She stood straight, meeting her own gaze in the mirror before finishing.

“-Is Twilight Sparkle.”

-

Chapter 9 : An Alicorn’s War

Need to contact me for any reason? AestheticBrony@gmail.com

Thanks goes out to Vimbert over on /fic/ for both his mechanical and conceptual expertise

An Alicorn's War

An Alicorn’s War

-

Captain Coconut Crunch led a group of over two dozen puppets and half a dozen truepony soldiers through the streets of outer Canterlot. As she moved, the ponies in the streets rushed to get out of her way. None of them would look at her or the puppets. The outer city might not have a strong loyalist presence, but that didn’t mean its citizens loved the new regime.

Well, Coconut thought to herself, it didn’t have a strong loyalist presence until they showed up. Now I’m patrolling with thirty soldiers total. The puppets under her command made her a little uncomfortable, but with the way things had been going recently, they also made her feel a little safer. Although I’d feel a lot more safe if I had some of those unicorns. Word amongst Empyrean’s army was that even the five didn’t fancy fighting Terra’s unicorn puppets. Or at least, word was that the unicorn puppets could slow them down.

Those were only rumors, though, and Coconut had heard a lot of rumors about both sides. Some ponies said that General Esteem ate fillies and colts to sustain his eternal youth. The same ponies then turned around and said that the five were actually puppets in disguise.

Coconut, like any warm-blooded pony in Equestria, would have preferred it if Titan and Terra had never come. She would have liked it if Celestia still ruled. She couldn’t change the past, however, and neither could any of the loyalists. Celestia was dead, and there was no way any amount of rebelling ponies was going to overthrow their new gods. They were gods, after all. Coconut was only trying to keep things orderly and make enough bits to put a roof over her head.

The captain was brought out of her thoughts as a jagged metal spike buried itself into the cobblestones thirty feet away from her. A thin cord ran from the end of the miniature harpoon, leading up to the rooftop of a nearby building. Her eyes followed the cord, and she saw an earthpony standing atop the building, her form silhouetted by the sun behind her. Coconut watched in amazement as the pony fastened the other end of the cord to the rooftop and then jumped off of the four story structure. Somehow, the pony hooked the side of an armored foreleg onto the cord and zip-lined down to the street below, landing with an acrobatic tumble as she tore the harpoon from the cobblestones.

The enemy pony was wearing what had to be the most ridiculous looking set of armor Coconut had ever seen. Strapped to one of her forelegs was a firing mechanism for the bladed grapple hook. She snapped the hook that she had fired earlier into the contraption, and the trailing cord was wound into a receiver on her shoulder. On her other foreleg was a similar mechanism, and as Coconut watched, the earthpony reached back to where several short blades were strapped to her back. One of the blades clicked into the contraption, and with a another click it was extended to point outward from the pony’s foreleg.

Beyond her foreleg armaments, the pony’s outfit became even stranger. Small tubing ran from each of the contraptions to several canisters of what Coconut assumed was compressed gas harnessed to the pony’s back. Pouches and containers sat alongside the canisters, and a few flaps of fabric hung down from between the gear. Atop her head sat a strange set of goggles that appeared to have several lenses each. She wasn’t wearing the goggles over her eyes, but rather had them sitting askew, partially obscured by her wild mane.

What was more, every single piece of the outfit was painted a bright color, and no two pieces shared the same shade. The pony looked more like a circus performer than one of Luna’s terrifyingly effective elites.

Despite her silly appearance, Coconut still had to swallow her fear at the sight of the pony. She was fairly certain her squad could take the mare down, but if one of Luna’s elites was around, more could appear at any moment. If that happened, she would need air support.

She couldn’t let her troops see her be afraid, even if only six of them were real ponies capable of sentient thought. She cleared her throat, and was surprised when the newly arrived enemy did not rush them or run away.

“Pinkamena Diane Pie,” Coconut said, managing to keep her voice clear and steady.

“Yep!” The pink earthpony beamed at the sound of her name.

Coconut wondered what she would say next. She hadn’t thought the pony would stay still for this long, let alone answer her. Maybe there wouldn’t be a fight after all. While she was sure her forces would win against the lone pony, she was also sure that the victory would cost them a few pony lives. She didn’t want that. “You are under arrest,” she said loudly.

Pinkamena looked up. “Nope!” she said cheerfully, poking at the empty air above her head with a bladed foreleg. “No arrest here!”

Is she crazy? Coconut thought, or just mocking me? Either way it didn’t matter. “Either come quietly or we will be forced to subdue you.”

Pinkamena looked around at the civilians who had gathered around to see what the commotion was about. Coconut thought it must be quite a strange sight, a single pony facing down thirty soldiers. “Hear that, everypony?” Pinkamena said loudly. “There’s gonna be a fight! Better hightail it outta here so nopony gets hurt!”

Coconut could appreciate what Pinkamena was doing, so she waited for the civilians to clear the street before she gave her order. She turned to her soldiers, and her puppets, all of whom were earthponies. Pegasi took the skies, and unicorns were needed in the inner city, so this far out from the barrier almost all soldiers on the ground were earthponies.

“Take her,” she said. Her soldiers and her puppets charged.

Coconut, being an officer, remained behind. She expected that Pinkamena would fight well. Certainly, the pony had come equipped for a fight. She had the advantage of numbers, though, and her soldiers were not incompetent when it came to hoof-to-hoof combat. Their opponent might take a few of them down with her, but she would eventually fall herself. Or so Coconut Crunch thought. She was wrong.

Pinkamena didn’t go down fighting. Pinkamena didn’t go down.

She began by raising a foreleg— the one that had the blade attached to it— and pointing at the nearest earthpony. She bit down on a strap with her mouth and pulled, and there was a loud hiss as the contraption expelled a white cloud of gas and the blade was shot through the air. It stuck a puppet in the neck just feet away from Pinkamena.

As the puppet dispersed, Pinkamena rushed forward— faster than Coconut would have thought was possible— and thrust her foreleg into the cloud of dark mist. There was an audible click, and Pinkamena emerged from the vanishing cloud with the blade she had used secured to her foreleg once more. She lost no momentum, spinning to bring the blade across the throat of another puppet before they knew she was upon them. She stabbed another in the eye before she cleared the group of charging soldiers, destroying a third puppet within a second of the the other two.

Coconut’s soldiers and puppets alike experienced a moment of confusion as they reached the place where Pinkamena had been only moments before. They slid to a halt, then turned to find Pinkamena between them and their captain. They charged her again, but not before Pinkamena turned to Coconut and said with a genuinely cheerful smile:

“My name’s Pinkie Pie.”

Then Pinkie Pie fired her bladed grapple hook into the nearest earthpony puppet. It dug into the puppet’s chest, but was not a lethal blow. Pinkie tugged on the metal cord connecting her foreleg to the puppet, and the puppet staggered forward, thrown off balance. Then, Pinkie ran at the puppet, leaping just before she reached it.

She hit the puppet, hind legs first, and drove her blade into its brain. Before it dispersed, however, Coconut watched Pinkie leap forward, off of the puppet, to send her flipping over the group of soldiers and puppets in an impossibly high jump. While she was in the air, she aimed her foreleg downward and pulled the firing mechanism with her mouth once more. Her blade shot downward with another release of compressed gas, and was driven point-first through the back of another puppet’s neck. Spine, throat, and major arteries severed, it dispersed. Pinkie landed and casually slipped inside the guard of another puppet, grabbing its head and breaking its neck.

Coconut watched with a mixture of horror and amazement as her troops stopped once more to turn and find Pinkie Pie behind them, unscathed. The pony had taken out six puppets and not taken a single hit. In fact, not one of her soldiers had even taken a swing at the pony yet.

Pinkie Pie looked around with a grin on her face as she loaded another blade into her strange mechanism. Then she dove into the crowd of soldiers once more, still smiling.

Except this time the first pony she came across was not a puppet, but one Coconut’s true pony soldiers. Her soldier turned and kicked out with his hind legs as he approached the pink menace, but Pinkie Pie was simply too fast. She moved to the side, dodging his kick as she retracted her blade, then grabbed one of his hind legs with her forelegs and twisted. Coconut’s soldier was thrown to the ground.

No! Coconut thought. He had known the risks. All of them did. Coconut still watched in horror as Luna’s elite overcame her soldier. Nopony should have had to die for King Titan or Princess Luna. This is wrong.

Pinkie Pie didn’t deliver the finishing blow, though. Instead she simply rolled under a punch and drove her blade into the neck of another puppet before carrying on. Coconut watched as her soldier, confused, got up to rejoin the fight. Pinkie Pie came out of the group of soldiers with two more kills, stopping again to face Coconut and still wearing her crazed grin.

“What’s yours?” she asked as though she had not just violently slain eight puppets.

Coconut managed to find her voice. “Don’t come at her all at once!” she shouted, “Spread out! Surround her!” Her soldiers moved to follow her orders.

The pink menace had other ideas, however. She plucked a small, cylindrical container from her harness. It was made of metal and painted red with what Coconut thought looked like a yellow happy face on it. She held it in her teeth as she released the blade from her forearm, then loaded the container into the launcher.

As the soldiers came at her, she aimed at their center and fired. The tiny metal canister was launched through the air with another hiss of compressed gas, and exploded into a cloud of rapidly spreading smoke. The smoke spun and whirled at a dizzying rate, and was of every color imaginable.

No, Coconut corrected herself. It was not every color. Only the bright colors that Pinkie Pie wore. Her soldiers would be easy to distinguish in the cloud, but Luna’s elite would be perfectly camouflaged.

She couldn’t see what happened next clearly, because she couldn’t see the enemy pony. Several times she would catch a glimpse of one of her puppets jerking suddenly and then dispersing. She heard the occasional sound of Pinkie Pie’s launching mechanisms going off, and several times heard the sound of her own truepony soldiers grunting as they sustained what Coconut hoped were non-lethal wounds.

She wondered why Pinkie Pie had elected not to kill her soldiers, or even wound them. She had not expected such compassion, and her soldiers were likely not going to return it in kind.

Before she had come to the outer city, she had heard terrible things about the five. While she didn’t believe that the loyalists were evil, she did think they were wrong. There was no point in fighting for Luna, no point in causing more chaos in an already troubled time. Titan had won.

At last the smoke began to clear, and Coconut was pleased with what she saw. Ten puppets and all of her soldiers remained, and Pinkie Pie was backed against a wall. Coconut was confident that while Pinkie’s combat skills might be superior to that of her soldiers, she couldn’t take sixteen ponies at once.

Again, the pink menace seemed to think differently. Pinkie fired her strange bladed grapple-hook upward, yanking on the trailing cord so that the hook dug into the ledge of the stone building behind her. At first, Coconut thought that she was going to run, but then Pinkie detached the metal cord from her foreleg launcher and fed it into a receiving mechanism on her back. She took another strap and put it into her mouth, then tugged. The mechanism on her back that now held the cord whirred, and the length of metal went taught. Pinkie reached up with both her forelegs, and two blades clicked into her foreleg-launchers. She brought her forelegs in front of her, brandishing the weapons.

Pinkie retracted the blades to trip one of Coconut’s soldiers, then extended them once more to behead a puppet. She blocked two punches, broke the foreleg of the puppet who had attacked her, then jumped over six feet in the air to land behind it and put a blade through the base of its skull.

Coconut’s soldiers closed in around her, but Pinkie Pie tugged the strap in her mouth and the cord went taught. As she was pulled towards the wall, she jumped and did a three-quarter backwards somersault through the air, landing with her hind legs on the horizontal surface.

Coconut Crunch watched with growing despair as Pinkie Pie fought her forces from the wall, battling them at a ninety degree angle. Her ponies were fast, but Pinkie Pie was clearly faster and better trained. The pink menace matched them blow for blow, a multicolored blur that jumped and spun along the wall, always out of reach. She destroyed two more puppets in less than ten seconds of lightning-fast combat.

Then, Pinkie Pie jumped away from the wall as her cord went slack once more. She tugged on the cord, and high above them, the grappling harpoon came free. Pinkie Pie landed with the soldiers between herself and the wall, then casually launched both her blades through another puppet’s eyes. The pink menace loaded her final blade into an open launcher, then reached up with her other foreleg and fastened the cord of her grapple-harpoon into the other.

A puppet tried to tackle her, and Pinkie Pie rolled out of the way. Then, the puppet was yanked forward as Pinkie’s grapple-harpoon caught it in the back. Pinkie executed it with her blade, then reeled in her grapple harpoon until she had about eight feet of slack. She bit down on the cord, then began to swing the cord and harpoon in a small vertical circle with her foreleg.

“Stop!” To Coconut’s surprise, they did. Pinkie Pie froze in place, letting the grappling harpoon fall to the ground with a clatter. Her soldiers faced the Pinkie warily, but made no move to attack. The puppets simply stopped moving, each of them turning to her in unison.

“We’re outmatched. We keep this up and she’s going to kill us.” At this, her soldiers relaxed visibly. They had apparently been thinking along the same lines. Coconut didn’t blame them.

She looked at Pinkie Pie, who was panting as she fed her harpoon’s metal cord into a receiver on her back. “Why haven’t any pegasi come to reinforce us yet?”

“Well, duh! They’re fighting.”

“Fighting who? You only have one pegasus willing to take the air. We have hundreds of puppets.”

“Princess Luna!” Pinkie Pie practically sang the name.

Coconut felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. If Luna had finally revealed herself, then something big was happening. It also meant that their pegasi were probably occupied, and Coconut wasn’t going to get any help from above. “So what are you doing, then? What are here for?”

At this, Pinkie’s grin widened. “Why, you, of course. You’re under arrest, Captain Crunch.”

Rarity gingerly stepped around a small concentration of rubble as she sliced and diced a nearby earthpony puppet.

Her cut had been towards her: a clean, quick diagonal swipe through the puppet’s body. She cringed as she was splattered with conjured blood just moments before it vanished into the dark ether that all puppets became upon death. At this point she wasn’t particularly bothered by the false gore that sometimes lingered just long enough to be seen before vanishing. She just hated feeling messy, even for an instant.

She absent mindedly flipped her mane away from her eyes as her blade broke into parts and punched lethal holes into three nearby puppets. She reformed it in time to cleave a charging puppet in two and wrinkled her nostrils in distaste as the dark ether washed over her.

She searched around for more puppets, but found none. Instead, she spotted a pale blue unicorn stallion at the end of the street. She cursed inwardly at the sight of the civilian. Now she would have to escort somepony out of the conflict zone, leaving Applejack to rescue the prisoners on her own. Unless of course Luna or Rainbow Dash decided to put their hooves on the ground for once.

“Hello there,” she called out to the civilian. He turned, and she noted for the first time just what he was wearing.

Did it take me that long to judge him based on his clothes? She thought to herself. Rarity, my dear, you are becoming too much a soldier! This conflict is not good for you.

The stallion was wearing a full body white robe, complete with a wide hood. Rarity recognized the outfit immediately— she was wearing the exact same thing. Under her own robe were several thick pads of hardened cloth and a harness for Vorpal. It was an extremely light garment, and the mark of a unicorn knight. A bladecaster.

Rarity would have designed her outfit to have a little more flair, but Princess Luna had insisted she conform to traditions. Still, her design skills allowed her to make sure her garment was appropriately beautiful. It was almost incandescently white; she had magically spun the fabric to reflect much more incoming light than any mundane material. It was loose, and tended to billow about her if she moved quickly, but was also so light that it didn’t inhibit movement whatsoever. Her mane flowed around her head in lazy curls, spilling down to her drawn back hood, where it coiled against the rippled fabric.

Rarity had grown to like the bladecasting robe; it, along with her white coat, gave her a sort of austere appearance that was intensified by the completely transparent diamonds that made up Vorpal.

The other knight stared at her coldly. Rarity noticed that his robe was made of drab white fabric, and wasn’t keeping away the dust that came along with the rubble the way hers was. “Dame Rarity,” he said coldly. “Knight Bachelorette of the Order Nocturnus. I am Sir Ironhoof, Knight Bachelor of the Natural Order. If you do not surrender to me and face King Titan’s judgement, I will be forced to slay you in single combat.”

Rarity raised a hoof to her chest. “Bachelorette? I am Knight Commander of the Order Nocturnus, Sir Ironhoof.” This one had actually done quite well, other than mistaking her rank. Titles were important, after all.

Sir Ironhoof tilted his head. “You are the only member of the Order Nocturnus. Luna hasn’t had knights for over a thousand years.”

“I’m still Knight Commander! And its Princess Luna.”

He sighed. “You aren’t going to come quietly, are you?”

Rarity levelled her blade. “It’s ironic, really,” she said in a conversational tone. “I always dreamed of being rescued by a white knight.”

“I see.”

A handful of shards of some mundane metal or another were thrown upward from the ground around Ironhoof and towards Rarity. She extended her magical senses, pinging each of the shards with her mind, then split Vorpal and sent a diamond fragment after each of them.

The shards and diamonds collided in the air, rebounding off of one another before each bladecaster reformed their blade. Rarity noted that Ironhoof’s weapon had only eleven fragments. Vorpal had fourteen, and she now knew that she could safely send three shards at him without leaving herself defenseless.

Unfortunately, doing so would kill him. Vorpal was not a good weapon for exercising restraint.

Ironhoof charged her as he telekinetically tossed several stones at her. Rarity frowned at the oncoming stones. She couldn’t intercept them with Vorpal without giving Ironhoof an opening, so she was forced to quickly roll to the side to avoid them. Her bladecasting robe didn’t pick up any dirt, but she felt filthy nonetheless.

Ironhoof reached her as she came out of her roll, swinging his blade, a thick length of dull metal. The air around Vorpal snapped as Rarity’s blade moved incredibly fast to intercept it. Ironhoof’s attack had been a competent one, and a clever move at that. He just hadn’t taken into account the fact that Rarity outclassed him by an order of magnitude.

His blade was thrown to the side by the force of Rarity’s swing, and Rarity had time to slap him across the face with the flat of her blade before batting away another one of his swings. He took another swipe at her, and Rarity ignored it, slapping him across the face again before catching the attack contemptuously at the last moment on her diamond weapon. Ironhoof looked past the two blades at Rarity with disbelief, blood running from one of his nostrils.

“Knight Commander,” Rarity corrected once again.

It was then that she caught a glint of red reflected back at her in one of Vorpal’s composite diamonds. Rarity give a slight moue as she watched Ironhoof’s eyes widen. Things always had to get so complicated.

She threw her magical weight against Vorpal, pushing Ironhoof and his blade back momentarily. Then, she sent a soft ripple of thought into her blade, willing it to reflect more light than diamonds normally would. She would need the extra visibility for this particular fight. Rarity pivoted in place just in time to deflect two glowing red bolts of energy with her blade.

A unicorn puppet stood at the other end of street, red mane flaring out around its black form. It seemed content to throw magic missiles at her, as unicorn puppets usually did. Rarity thanked Celestia it didn’t have any shards to toss. Simple spells she could handle.

She caught the reflection of Ironhoof coming at her in one of Vorpal’s facets, and spun to parry and block a rapid series of blows. She ducked a more powerful swipe so as to free Vorpal to deflect another pair of magic missiles. She had the sense to aim them at the puppet this time, but it caught them with red bursts of moment-field. The puppets weren’t that easy to kill.

Rarity was holding against the puppet and Ironhoof, rapidly spinning to face each foe and block their attacks, but she wasn’t gaining any ground. It was only a moment of time before she slipped up or they got lucky, and then she would die, which was in no way, shape, or form an acceptable outcome to her.

She jumped as high as she could into the air— which admittedly was not very high— and pushed Vorpal beneath her, where she flicked a bit of magic at it. The blade shattered and its shards were sent flying through the air at her opponents.

Ironhoof and the puppet each had the acumen to use their magical senses to detect and deflect Vorpal’s shards, but her attack provided a much-needed distraction. She quickly rushed to put her back to wall and face both her opponents. The, she threw her blade at the puppet once again.

To her dismay, the puppet caught every one of the shards on a moment field as Ironhoof charged her. She drew the shards back through the air and reformed her blade to parry Ironhoof’s thrust, then looked at the puppet too late to see several metal shards speeding towards her, encased in red energy.

It did have shards, she thought, it was just waiting for the ideal moment to use them. When did these brutes get so smart?

She couldn’t use her blade to deflect the shards without exposing herself to Ironhoof, and the strain of constant combat had left her mentally weary enough that she couldn’t split part of Vorpal to intercept them.

Thankfully, the building behind her chose that moment to explode.

Rarity caught a glimpse of Ironhoof being showered with splinters and rubble before she was thrown violently to the ground, protected from the collapsing structure by the armored body of another pony.

She made a slight whining noise as her face was pressed against the dirty cobbles. “Thank you, Applejack, for saving my life,” she said curtly. “Please stop touching me.”

“You ought to show some gratitude, Rares.” Applejack rose and shook off several hundred pounds of stone, wood, and glass, completely unscathed. She placed herself between Rarity and the unicorn puppet, then raised an armored foreleg. As Rarity rose and gathered Vorpal, she saw a shard strike Applejack’s leg and bounce harmlessly away, sparks flying. Applejack caught another shard in her mouth.

Rarity had made Applejack’s armor with the assistance of Luna, who was one of the only ponies in Equestria who still knew how earthpony warplates were made. It was an incredibly thick set of mundane steel barding that had been magically folded in upon itself for structural strength. The entire suit weighed more than Applejack herself, and the extra weight helped her gather the momentum she needed to break through solid stone walls.

The armor was a sharp shade of red, and Rarity had made it as ornate as Applejack had let her. The joint and neck were protected by angular plates, and golden filigree spiralled and swirled along the main plates to form intricate Apple designs. Atop her head, her trademark stetson still sat, battered from being forced through at least one building.

Applejack spat blood, metal, and teeth. Then she leaned over and struck Ironhoof, who was pinned beneath some rubble, but otherwise uninjured. He was immediately knocked unconscious by Applejack’s steel-clad hoof.

The unicorn puppet sent more shards and magical missiles their way, but Rarity twisted and spun Vorpal to deflect each of them. As she did, AJ spoke.

“Prisoners are mostly free, but we got about twenty puppets and two unicorns two blocks over. Ah figure we can take ‘em together.”

Rarity threw Vorpal at her opponent only to have it deflected once again. She sighed. “Of course you do. Shall we be using discretion or would you rather we simply plow through every obstacle in our way screaming like a bunch of barbarians?”

“Mmm...” Applejack worked her mouth as if the question required serious consideration. “Second one.”

The skies were cleared.

It had taken Luna all of several minutes to destroy the puppets that controlled the sky above that particular section of Canterlot. There were perhaps a hundred of them, but they were unarmed and Luna had the help of Rainbow Dash. While a pegasus puppet might not be strong by itself, their mobility allowed them to easily descend upon and overwhelm any forces on the ground. In a matter of minutes, every pegasus puppet within kilometres could be in the same place.

Luna had killed them all. The task had been almost trivial.

Rainbow Dash had been an asset. She was far too fast for the puppets to catch, and would use her mastery of pegasus magic to strike down their foes with fire, lightning, and gale force winds. If an enemy did manage to close with her, she was more than its match physically; Dash was one of the strongest pegasi Luna had ever seen, and Luna had been training her in aerial combat.

Luna had done most of the work, though. She was a full-powered goddess, an alicorn straight from an age where violence and brutality were commonplace. Her opponents might as well have been made of the smoke she reduced them to. She tore them apart with her blade, her hooves, and if they were too far way, her mind. Nothing could withstand her.

“Rainbow Dash.”

The aptly named pegasus came to hover beside her. “What?”

Dash’s armor was a full body suit of tight fitting super hardened cloth that was colored sky blue. Along its edges and joints ran a multicolored trim designed to emulate Dash’s polychromatic mane. Luna and Rarity had worked together to create the skypony barding to afford her maximum protection and flexibility. Luna herself wore a suit under her bladecasting robe, though she had denied Rarity’s request to “spruce it up.” Luna valued appearances, but Rarity’s design sense didn’t exactly conform to her standards when it came to intimidation.

She looked down at a distant intersection. With a small amount of concentration, Luna bent the air in front of her into a lens that magnified the crossroads. Rarity and Applejack were close to one another, locked in combat with several dozen puppets and trueponies.

Dash did not need to be ordered. The air collapsed around the pegasus with a heavy thrum as she took of in their direction with her uncanny speed. Luna followed.

Dash landed next to Rarity and Applejack, clearly intent of protecting them. Luna reckoned that they’d be alright, so she sped past them and began to destroy their enemies.

Her first target was a unicorn puppet positioned across the square from the trio. As she approached it, she tore several cobblestones from the street below her and hurled them at the puppet with magic. It deflected the stones, then threw a wave of force at her, clearly trying to prevent her from closing the distance between them.

Luna took the spell head-on, and as she was thrown to the ground, she called her unicorn and pegasus magic to form a sophisticated spell. The air around her dropped several dozen degrees and frost coated the ground, her coat, and her black bladecasting robe. She formed several spears of ice out of the moisture held in the air and flung them at the unicorn puppet. At the same time, she lifted several more cobblestones from the street behind the puppet and drew them towards her.

The puppet erected a full force field to deflect the incoming projectiles, but had no way of preventing Luna from closing the distance between them with a powerful flap of her wings. Luna landed beside the unicorn, surrounded in the fog that her winter spell had caused, and cast her blade inside the puppet.

The puppet was eaten away from the inside out, and it dispersed as Nadir formed. It was all the colors of the night— the pure white of moonlight, the twinkling shimmer of starlight, and the soft greens and purples of the aurora. Nadir caused light to dim, metal to rust, water to freeze, and flesh to deteriorate.

She pulled her blade up to its ready position, causing the black mist leftover from the puppet to swirl around the fog that her drastic temperature spell was creating. She smiled as another unicorn puppet took notice of her.

Trivial.

The puppet threw two bolts of magical energy at her. She deflected them with her blade, then countered its telekinetic push with her own, much stronger push. It was staggered, and she closed with it and decapitated the foe with one swipe.

Luna beat her wings once more to land amongst the earthponies that were attacking her own team, and two swipes of Nadir downed four foes. Luna joined her trio of ponies and they proceeded to clear the square.

It was not difficult. The arrival of Luna and Rainbow Dash had tipped the scales in their favor, and the remaining puppets went down in less than a minute. The truepony soldiers, few as they were, were rounded up at blade point and brought into a nearby building. Luna, Rarity, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash followed.

The Princess did her best to look intimidating, and it was a successful effort. She was taller than anypony present, wearing a pitch black bladecasting robe, and wielding a spell blade. The air around her was filled with billowing fog, and the ground beneath her hooves frosted over. Her eyes were glowing and her hood was drawn up. The enemy soldiers shivered, though whether from the cold or from Luna’s presence, the Princess couldn’t tell.

She was being a little dramatic, after all. It was the modus operandi of alicorns.

“An abysmal lot of foes we find ourselves burdened with upon an equally abysmal afternoon.” Her voice boomed through the building around them, and she saw her allies cringe out of the corner of her eye. They didn’t like her Royal Canterlot voice. Luna thought it helped to keep things fresh. “Tell us.” she dismissed Nadir and leaned forward to look the lead soldier- a unicorn- in the eyes. “How might one pass Empyrean’s barrier?”

The unicorn’s eyes hardened. “Even if I did know the spell, why would I tell you?”

“Because.” The unicorn pulled back at the volume of her voice. “We are the only chance thou hast of overthrowing King Titan.”

“You can’t beat Titan. Even if you could, how can any of us be sure you’re a better ruler than him? You’re likely to plunge our world into eternal night as soon as you ascend the throne.”

Luna practically recoiled. Surely that wasn’t what her people thought of her?

The unicorn continued. “We’ve all heard all about you, Luna. You’ve never gotten along with your sister. You probably laughed when you found out that she was dead. And now you’re just an alicorn trying to fill the power vacuum she created.”

Luna slowly shook her head. “No,” she began, her voice losing its volume. “I- I- I don’t-”

“If you really were fighting for the sake of ponykind, Princess, you wouldn’t have disappeared for the past month. You wouldn’t have killed Twilight Sparkle. Why don’t you just marry Empyrean and settle for being his princess. I’m tired of being forced to fight my fellow ponies because you’re trying to take advantage of your sister’s death. I’m tired of fighting an alicorn’s war.”

Luna looked at the unicorn in disbelief. He thought she was just as bad as Titan. He thought the fighting was her fault. She felt sick.

Suddenly she was standing amidst hundreds of dead ponies on a scorched and barren plain, looking down at a colt without a cutie mark who had died for her. She felt herself butchering ponies from eons ago, their dying cries fueling her thirst for absolute destruction. She had broken their race, then. Had taught ponykind to destroy one another rather than love each other. And they had.

She was vaguely aware of falling to the ground in front of the prince as the temperature in the room dropped even further. Was she doing the same thing now? Was she simply going to lead ponykind down the path of destruction once more? If Twilight never woke up, then they didn’t stand a chance against Titan and Terra.

How long would her war go on then? Years? Decades? Would Twilight’s friends die in battle or of old age while they searched for a new Element of Magic? What right did she have to ask them to help her and her sister reclaim the throne?

“Get out.” Her voice had assumed its usual volume.

No, she had decided; Twilight Sparkle would come back to them and they would rescue Celestia, wherever she was. Luna wasn’t fighting for her parents anymore, and she wasn’t fighting to kill her sister. She would rescue Celestia, and free ponykind from Titan and Terra once and for all.

A look of surprise crossed the unicorn’s face. “We’re... free to go?”

“What? Didst thou think we were going to gobble thee up? Thine commander is ours and thine prisoners are freed. Thou art of no use to us.” Luna didn’t know if the first bit was true; hopefully Pinkie Pie had captured her target and Fluttershy had led the prisoners to safety. She stepped to the side to let the unicorn and the other soldiers leave. “Run along.”

The captured soldiers left, shivering as they scurried past the frozen princess.

After they had left, Rainbow Dash said dryly, “That could have gone better.”

“Ah think maybe next time you ought to turn down the menace, princess.”

“Yes,” Rarity said, teeth chattering. “Would you mind maybe turning the heat back up, Your Highness?”

With a thought, she warmed the air around them. Luna had no idea how they could keep their spirits so high after almost twenty minutes of on and off combat. She was still thinking on what the unicorn had said.

How could she explain it to them? She couldn’t tell the general pony populace that Celestia was alive, because then their enemies would know they knew. If that happened, who knew what Titan would do to his Celestia? She couldn’t tell them that Twilight Sparkle was secretly still alive, either; she would instantly become the most wanted mare in Equestria next to Luna herself. And she certainly couldn’t tell the population that they had a weapon capable of destroying Titan himself. If her father knew that Twilight and her friends posed a threat, he would almost certainly tell Terra to strike them down. Her mother would wipe Canterlot from the face of Equestria with barely a second thought.

So ponykind had to think that Celestia was dead. That Luna wanted to rule them by herself. That the loyalist cause was hopeless. That their twice-time hero and saviour, the personal servant of Princess Celestia, Twilight Sparkle, had died a monster.

Naturally, Twilight Sparkle had attained virtual messiah status amongst the loyalists. While ponykind wasn’t in on the details, Twilight and her friends had effectively saved Equestria twice before. It was probably exactly why Titan had chosen to turn her into his pet monster in the first place. That, and Nihilus Nix Naught could apparently take all of Celestia’s magic and give it to his newborn son Empyrean. He had, by enslaving her, effectively destroyed the biggest symbol of hope ponykind had as well as acquiring a useful asset.

In the eyes of ponykind, Twilight Sparkle had died in the Battle of Cloudsdale with Nihilus Nix Naught, whom Luna had slain. Luna had killed their saviour, and it seemed she was even more hated now than she had been before Titan returned.

Ultimately, it didn’t matter. If Luna had to be a villain to rescue her sister, than so be it. Ponykind had never loved her as much as they loved Celestia, and they likely never would. If Luna was going to save them from her father, she didn’t need them to.

“Fluttershy will have had enough time to lead the prisoners to safety, I should think,” she said, dropping down to a mild volume and doing her best to curb her archaic accent. “Pinkie Pie ought to have captured our captain by now. Let us away to the underground.”

With that, they went home.

Twilight Sparkle did her best to keep things together.

Magic helped. Left alone to her own thoughts, she knew she would lose focus and break down again. So Twilight focused on focusing, keeping herself busy with simple tasks and spells while she decided her next move. She knew she needed to find her former friends and the Princess, but how? She was in the Books and Branches library. Luna could be anywhere.

She pulled the Marvelous Manual of Medical Magics off of a shelf with a bit of telekinesis and looked up a diagnostic spell. While true healing magic was impossible, there were all sorts of spells that were designed to help with traditional medical treatments. The spell was a complex one, so it took Twilight several minutes of study before she could cast it.

It indicated that she was fine, but that she ought to eat. Twilight didn’t feel hungry, and the fruits left out on the table looked as though they had been rotting for weeks. She took note of the state of decay, then searched through the cupboards until she found some oats. To keep herself busy while she forced the oats down with a spoon, she learned a spell to tell her the time. She had calendars and clocks in the library, but nopony had been around to mark the calendars and the clock couldn’t tell her the exact date.

When the spell told her that she had been unconscious for almost a month, the spoonful of oats only faltered slightly before continuing along its course. Twilight munched the oats mechanically, then swallowed and decided she had eaten enough.

She pulled the Element of Kindness out of her null-space. The golden necklace wasn’t actually the Element of Kindness, but rather one facet of the four-part whole. The whole Element consisted of not just the golden necklace, but also Fluttershy, its magical power, and the idea of kindness itself. It was what conventional unicorn knowledge would have called an impossible enchantment.

Twilight created a spell to follow the necklace’s link to the ideal that connected it to both its bearer and its enchantment. She focused on the bearer, holding that portion of the element in her mind. Then, with a small amount of thaumaturgy, she created and cast a spell to find the bearer in reference to herself.

The spell gave her the general direction of Canterlot. Trying to ignore the implications of such a location, Twilight telekinetically grabbed a map of the capitol while she held the tracking spell and the enchantment in her mind. She unrolled the map and directed a meta-spell at her thaumaturgical one to pinpoint Fluttershy’s location on the map.

It marked her position, and Twilight had the good sense to reorganize the spell so as to track Fluttershy relative to the position on the map. The spell gave her the direction of downward. Fluttershy was in the Undercity.

Twilight rolled up the map and deposited it in null-space after marking Fluttershy’s position. Canterlot was not far away at all. She managed to make the trip between Canterlot and Ponyville by herself three times within twelve hours when-

She needed to focus, so she began to search the library for things that she might need to take with her. She arranged several foods on the table, then began to pick out books for her trip. For obvious reasons, Marvelous Manual of Medical Magics might come in handy. She hoped it wouldn’t, but it never hurt to be prepared. She decided the chronology textbook would be of little use, so it would stay.

She moved soundlessly about the library, picking out books and stacking them alongside her travel food on the table. She only found a couple. The majority of the books she examined were useless. Her new copy of The Astronomical Astronomer’s Almanac to All things Astronomy was useless. Slumber 101 was useless. Running in the Running for Dummies was useless. She carefully placed all of them into a pile for useless books.

As she moved throughout the library, carefully selecting which books to take with her and which books to leave behind, Twilight became slower. Her movements did not become less precise or meticulous, but she began to spend more and more time examining the titles of the tomes. She levitated new books onto the stack at an ever decreasing rate, until finally her glacial pace gave way to absolute stillness.

She stood motionless, hardly breathing, staring at the book she held aloft with magic. Then, she gently set it on the floor and began to cry.

Her tears came with great, wracking sobs that broke the otherwise perfect silence of the library. She fell to the ground, rocking herself back and forth until she could once again focus on what was important. In all, she wasted fifteen minutes of time shaking uncontrollably on the library floor.

She picked up the book, Draconic Appetites and Ailments, and set it in the useless pile next to the musical storybook It’s a Wonderful Equestria. Then, she decided she had picked out enough books, deposited the useful ones in her null-space, and left.

To draw her attention away from the signs of the extensive repairs that the town had undergone, Twilight recalled and cast an illusion spell to disguise her appearance. She intended first to recolor herself white, but changed her mind and went with a pale red. Unrecognizable, she proceeded towards Canterlot.

When she was clear of the town, Twilight decided that she didn’t want to walk. Being alone with her thoughts was counter-productive, so she used a series of teleports to bring her to the city gates. The western gate of Canterlot was still a pile of rubble, and truepony guards as well as puppets were stationed around it and along the walls. What was more, a mysterious curtain of white rose from within the city itself to the sky. Twilight took note of its appearance, then teleported to the other side of the wall.

She appeared in an alleyway, then consulted her map.

When Twilight Sparkle was nine years old, she had become fascinated with mazes. Celestia had left her a book of them on her desk one night, and she got hooked. She would spend hours at a time finishing the little maze books that she could buy at the bookshop with her allowance. After a week, she started doing them in ink instead of graphite. After two weeks, she had asked the owners of the bookshop to order her more complex maze books.

They did. Twilight had never realized how rarely anypony said no to Celestia’s most prized pupil.

After three weeks, Celestia took a personal interest in Twilight’s “maze craze,” as she affectionately dubbed it, and asked Twilight is she had wanted to see a maze in real life.

Twilight had answered that she already knew the palace hedge labyrinth by heart. Not only did it feature prominently in Canterlot’s Nightmare Night celebrations, but she could get a bird’s eye view of it from the palace.

Celestia had smiled and told her that the labyrinth she had in mind was much bigger. A day later, she had taken Twilight down into the Canterlot Undercity.

It was a sprawling labyrinth that ran beneath all of Canterlot. It was enormous, large enough to hold tens of thousands of ponies at a time, and it was also totally impossible to navigate. In some places it was made up of square passageways and corners, in others it was slides, tunnels, and curves. Making things worse was the fact that the maze fully took advantage of the fact that it existed in three dimensional space. It was also pitch-dark on account of the fact that it was buried under Canterlot.

Twilight hadn’t been scared of the dark. Celestia had been with her. The Princess had explained that the Canterlot Undercity was the most difficult labyrinth that she could possibly give Twilight, and that her test would be in a month.

Twilight was forbidden from entering the Undercity just like every other pony in Canterlot, of course; it was simply too dangerous. A pony could get lost and then starve to death, or fall into one of the many chasms and not be able to get out.

So Princess Celestia had given her four very ancient books on the topic to study from. And study from them Twilight did. The Undercity occupied almost all of her time for the next month. She read the books, analyzed the maps, and made models. She came up with half a dozen theories as to its purpose and its mysterious origin. Eventually, she realized that she could split the enormous labyrinth into smaller mazes and solve each on its own.

After three weeks, she had the entire labyrinth memorized and could come up with a route between any two points in a matter of seconds. Celestia had been thoroughly impressed.

Then Twilight had learned the true purpose of the exercise: to train her mind so as to accustom it to the intense spacial reasoning that she would need to possess. She had inherited the Sparkle family ability to teleport from her mother. She teleported for the first time two weeks later, to the astonishment of her parents.

It wasn’t until two years later that Twilight learned, in a rare conversation with another student, that there were only four books detailing the Canterlot Undercity, and only two of them contained maps. Celestia had let Twilight in on a very special secret simply to ensure Twilight enjoyed her studies.

A month ago, Twilight had raped her of her godhood, laughing as Celestia begged for mercy.

In the alleyway, Twilight’s stony expression flickered slightly as she examined the map once again. There were thirteen entrances to the Undercity spread throughout Canterlot: One at the palace, six in inner Canterlot, and six in outer Canterlot. With the palace at the centre of a circle, each entrance portended an arc length of exactly one-sixth pi radians from its neighbor. She noted where the nearest entrance ought to be on her map and mentally traced a route that would take her to Fluttershy’s position.

Then Twilight left the alleyway, still a red unicorn, and travelled the several blocks to the Undercity entrance. On her way, she passed several heavily damaged buildings, and noted dimly that ponies were looking timidly out at her from broken windows and doorways. She ignored them, and noticed no puppets on the way to the entrance.

The portal to the Undercity had been blocked up and cobbled over, like most of the entryways throughout Canterlot. Ponies were not allowed down there on account of how dangerous it was. Not that anypony could have known where the entrance was in the first place. To Twilight’s knowledge, she and Celestia were the only ones who had studied the layout of the Undercity.

She reached out with her magical senses to find the hollow area beneath the earth right where she expected it to be. After a moment of focusing, she teleported.

She found herself alone in darkness, and lit her horn with a bit of illusion magic. The illusion magic immediately reminded her of where she had learned the spell that changed her appearance, and what she had used it for. Rainbow Dash.

Twilight hadn’t eaten many oats, and had only drunk a little bit of water, so she didn’t have much in the way to vomit. Still, she stood shaking, retching up nothing, wasting almost a full minute after the oats were gone. She made a mental note to eat again soon before setting off throughout the labyrinth. Proper nutrition was important.

The various twists and turns of the labyrinth matched what she had in her mind. Without Discord to rearrange a maze at will, Twilight could navigate them with ease, which was probably why she had been so eager to dive into the hedge labyrinth upon hearing his riddle.

As she moved through the tomb-like, silent darkness, she wondered why Fluttershy would be in the Undercity. Hopefully she wasn’t lost or hurt. Hopefully she was with the others. Twilight briefly considered checking the other Element bearers, but decided just to press on.

Her journey through the Undercity was for the most part serene. She passed through large rooms and claustrophobia-inducing crawlspaces. She teleported across chasms and pushed open heavy metal doors. Twice, she teleported to another nearby section of the maze, using her acute spatial sense to determine exactly where she ought to be, skipping two whole sub-mazes and saving herself a great deal of time.

Once, when she wandered close to the inner city labyrinth, she found a curtain of white energy blocking a passageway. She imagined that it was the same barrier she had observed from outside the city. She extended her magical senses, but they could not penetrate the barrier. Twilight marvelled at the sheer amount of power it must take to sustain such a thing before moving on.

It was obvious when Twilight had come to Luna’s lair. It was set up in what Twilight knew was a small complex near one of the surface entrances. She supposed that they wouldn’t have to travel very far to reach the complex, and so were less likely to get lost. She stood outside the metal doorway to their chambers, which was bathed in the purple light of her horn and had been marked with a crescent moon. Then she took a deep breath and opened the door.

Inside was a room entirely different from the cold stone outside. The walls had been covered with hundreds of cloth hangings done up in warm shades, and the floor had been lined with hardwood. At one end of the room burned a magical fire, in front of which was a plush rug. In the center of the room was a table, upon which was a map of Canterlot. A stairway ran up to an overhanging balcony and four doors, which Twilight assumed led to bedrooms.

Twilight took all of this in without consideration. She was too busy focusing on the room’s only occupant. Sitting on the rug, basking in firelight, sipping a mug of hot cocoa, was Fluttershy.

Twilight was a shadow in the back of Nihilus’s mind, looking down on the beaten and bloody pegasus who had cruelly spun her a lie of redemption. It wasn’t enough that Fluttershy simply die. No, Nihilus would have Rainbow Dash kill her; would have one friend savagely murder the other. She liked the idea of Rainbow Dash having a few moments of freedom from her nightmare to contemplate killing her most innocent friend.

Twilight lost the cold, distant viewpoint that had gotten her from the library to Canterlot, and was drawn back into herself. She stood in the doorway, wondering how she could possibly face Fluttershy after what she had done.

She must have made a noise, because Fluttershy looked up from her place in front of the fireplace. She saw Twilight, and her eyes widened, her lips parting slightly in amazement.

Twilight knew she had to say something, anything, to the pegasus before Fluttershy was scared away.

I’m sorry. It was so woefully inadequate. It wasn’t me. But it was still her fault. I didn’t want any of it to happen. But it happened anyway, and Twilight couldn’t help that. She cycled through a dozen responses and her mind rested on one: You shouldn’t have come to rescue me. I didn’t deserve it.

“Twilight!” Fluttershy screamed louder than Twilight had ever heard her before. Before Twilight could speak, the pegasus had crossed the room and had her locked in a hug so powerful as to almost suffocate her. “You’re back! Oh, thank Celestia!” When Twilight didn’t hug back, Fluttershy pulled away and looked Twilight in the eyes. “Are you alright? You look terrible.”

Twilight stared back into Fluttershy’s eyes, confused. In them there was no hatred, no rejection: just pure, simple concern. Concern for Twilight’s well-being. Fluttershy was actually worried about her, like an overprotective mother instead of a tormented victim. No, Twilight realized, not like an overprotective mother. Like a friend.

Twilight couldn’t help it. She broke down and began to cry.

For the second time that day, her legs gave way as tears began to stream down her face. “I,” she stammered, “I-I-”

“Shhh,” Fluttershy hugged her again, gently rubbing her back. Then, the pegasus picked her up as though she were nothing more than a filly and flew them over to sit in front of the fireplace. Twilight was set down on the incredibly thick rug and she felt the warmth of the fire begin to spread through her. She hadn’t realized how cold it had been in the labyrinth.

She buried her head in Fluttershy’s coat, and her friend wrapped her almost completely in her wings and forelegs, then nuzzled a sobbing Twilight with her wispy mane. “Shhh, I know, Twilight. Let it all out.”

Suddenly Twilight realized why she had tracked the Element of Kindness instead of the others. Some part of her had known that what she wanted, what she really needed, was somepony to care for her. A shoulder to cry on. A little kindness.

She was getting tears and mucus all over Fluttershy’s luxuriously soft coat as she sobbed, but the pegasus didn’t seem to mind. She rocked Twilight back and forth as the unicorn gasped for air.

“I-I-I couldn’t do anything.”

“I know, Twilight, let it all go.”

“I couldn’t even close my eyes. I-” Twilight’s entire body shook as she drew in a shuddering breath. “I had to watch.”

“It’s okay, Twilight. You’re safe.”

“You shouldn’t have come for me.”

“Of course we should have, Twilight. We love you.”

“I-I thought,” Twilight squeezed Fluttershy as tightly as she could manage. Fluttershy squeezed back. “I th-thought I was never going to get t-t-to t-talk to any of you ever again. I thought it was o-o-over.”

Fluttershy squeezed her harder than Twilight would have thought possible, then released her. Once again, the pegasus looked Twilight in the eyes. Her voice hardened. “It isn’t over, Twilight. Not yet.”

Twilight nodded numbly, and Fluttershy smiled. “I’ll go fix us some hot cocoa and when I come back we’ll get you cleaned up, alright?” She nodded again, and Fluttershy fluttered away.

Twilight waited, looking into the fire as it crackled merrily. Despite the streaks of tears running from her eyes, she felt better than she had in a long time. We love you, Fluttershy had said. Twilight believed her.

Fluttershy came back with two steaming mugs of cocoa and a box of tissues in her mouth. Twilight happily sipped at her drink and tried not to cringe as Fluttershy dabbed away at her face and neck. Fluttershy did not seem at all discomforted by the fact that Twilight had just broken down and cried under her wings for the better part of twenty minutes. For that fact, Twilight was immensely grateful. It was just one more thing that set Fluttershy apart.

“The others are going to be so happy to see you,” Fluttershy said softly.

“Has it really been a month since Cloudsdale?”

“Mhm,” Fluttershy nodded, “we’ve been in Canterlot causing trouble for the King, but normally there’s somepony back in Ponyville to watch you. Today we needed everyone, though, because Luna was going to fight. They wanted to, um, get rid of all the puppets in the outer city and capture a commanding officer. But then there were also some prisoners that we had to free.”

“You’re still with Luna? How is she?”

“She’s, um... nice.”

“I see. How is everyone else?”

“Well,” Fluttershy began, “Pinkie Pie-”

“Present!”

Pinkie Pie burst through the metal door to the labyrinth complex on two legs and covered in colorful armor and gadgets. Right behind her was a brown-coated, white-maned earthpony Twilight had never seen before in her life.

Pinkie Pie saw Twilight, and her eyes widened. There was a hissing noise and a jet of white gas, and a harpoon attached to her foreleg was launched straight downward, where it bounced off the ground and the clattered to a resting position.

“Twilight!” She grinned as she began to shed the various pieces of colorful equipment that adorned her. When enough of them had fallen to the ground, Pinkie sprang across the room, pinning Twilight to the floor in another painfully tight bear hug.

“Oh-my-gosh-we-missed-you-so-much-and-now-you’re-back!”

Twilight wheezed under the strain of Pinkie Pie’s hug. “Thanks, Pinkie.”

Pinkie Pie gasped as though suddenly coming to a realization. “We need to throw a party! Fluttershy! We need to throw Twilight a party!” She ran up the stairs and through one of the doorways. Moments later, various party paraphernalia were thrown out of the doorway and over the balcony to land in front of the fire.

Twilight dodged a falling roll of streamers and turned her attention to the unknown earthpony. The mare had been giving her a wide-eyed stare since she entered. “Are you...” she trailed off, then slowly approached Twilight. The way she looked Twilight over made her feel like a specimen on display, except from the look on the mare’s face she clearly didn’t understand what she was seeing.

“Burning blood of Celestia,” the mare swore in disbelief. “You’re really Twilight Sparkle.”

“Um... yes?”

“This... this changes everything. Everything.”

Twilight was confused. “I don’t understand.”

“You’re a legend, Twilight. You’ve saved Equestria twice. When Titan returned and you were… taken, and Celestia killed, most ponies thought that resisting was hopeless. But if you’re still alive then... there’s hope, isn’t there? We can win.”

Twilight didn’t know how to react. Was there hope? She didn’t see why not; they still had the Elements of Harmony, after all. “Yes,” she said finally. “We can win. And Celestia isn’t dead.”

The mare smiled. “It’s better than I thought, then. If we actually have a chance of returning things to the way they were before, then all of ponykind would support us. This war would suddenly make sense.”

Then the mare did something completely unexpected. She knelt on the carpet before Twilight. “Twilight Sparkle,” she said, her voice taking on a ceremonious tone. “I, Captain Coconut Crunch, renounce my loyalty to King Titan and my position as captain in the Royal Army. I hereby swear myself to you as your servant and vassal as Celestia’s successor.”

Twilight stood frozen, mouth agape. “I’m not her successor,” she managed after a time. “What could possibly give you that idea?”

“You’re her personal student, aren’t you? You’ve saved Equestria twice, on her orders. Who else would rule in her stead?”

“Her sister? Princess Luna?”

“Luna? Luna is ignored at best and despised at worst. The ponies don’t see her as being any better than Titan himself.”

Twilight sighed. She was in way over her head. “Look— Coconut is it? Luna is the rightful ruler of Equestria, and the only reason I’m still alive. She risked her own life to save me. I know she can come off as a little scary, and I know that you think she was Nightmare Moon; but Nightmare Moon and Luna were two completely different entities. I would know.”

“You would know,” Coconut echoed. “That’s what happened to you, isn’t it? That’s who Nihilus really was.”

Slowly, Twilight nodded. “I’ve been asleep for the past month.”

“And now she’s ba-ack,” Pinkie Pie said in a sign-song voice before jumping from the overhanging balcony to the carpet in front of the fireplace. She was holding a cake.

Pinkie’s ear twitched, and she suddenly stopped moving. She turned towards the doorway as it opened, encased in the glow of unicorn telekinesis.

“And do remember to wipe your hooves this time, Applejack. I did not spend the past three weeks decorating this hole simply so that you could-”

As Rarity came through the door, she saw Twilight and suddenly stopped. Applejack ran into her, and they both went tumbling to the floor.

Twilight was once again encased in pony as her friends smothered her with hugs. They squeezed her and asked if she was okay, tears of joy streaming down their faces. Applejack had to be careful not to crush Twilight to death as she was in a massive suit of armor. Rainbow Dash hung back while they smothered her. Twilight tried her best to catch her gaze and failed.

When they had finished, Twilight came face to face with Princess Luna. Luna was not as big as Celestia, but Twilight still had to look up at her. The Princess’s eyes betrayed none of her feelings. After what seemed like forever, she spoke:

“We are pleased to see thee, Twilight Sparkle.” Twilight cringed.

“Indoor voice,” Rarity reminded gently.

“Of course,” Luna said in a voice that was still several times louder than it needed to be. “If thou art healthy and well, Twilight, then we ought to begin with our next course of action.”

“Throwing a party!” Pinkie cried.

Luna narrowed her eyes at the bouncing pony. “No, Pinkie. Teaching Twilight Sparkle what ye all already know.”

“In party hats! And everypony still gets cake!”

Luna grumbled.

It was several minutes later, with everypony seated in a semicircle around the magically burning fireplace, eating cake and drinking hot cocoa, that Luna told Twilight everything. Twilight already knew most of what Luna had to say, such as the fact that Titan and Terra were her parents, but she knew almost nothing about the pre-Discordian history that Luna described.

“Dost mine tale satisfy thee, Twilight?” Luna asked after she had finished.

She had a hard time believing the things Luna had said about Celestia. “I suppose,” Twilight said at last. “The name Astor Coruscare sounds familiar.”

“She was Celestia’s most powerful lieutenant. A unicorn trained from birth to make war. She could defeat Celestia or I in single combat by the end of the war. The Coruscare scale is named after her. She is also your distant ancestor.”

Twilight frowned. The part about being related to her was a surprise, but it wasn’t what was bothering her. She didn’t recognize the name from the Coruscare scale. She made a mental note to think on it more later. “So why do you all have suits of armor?” she asked, suddenly having the urge to change the subject.

Rarity interrupted. The unicorn had been eating her slice of cake so slowly and delicately it was barely half-finished. “Oh, aren’t they gorgeous, dear? I designed them all, with help from Princess Luna, of course. Although Pinkie Pie made most of hers by herself. Did I tell you I’m a knight?”

“A knight?”

“Knight-Commander of the Order Nocturnus! Dame Rarity, as it were.”

Applejack snorted. “Also the only member of the Order Nocturnus.”

Rarity sniffed. “In any case, its keeps us all a little safer when we’re out causing trouble. I have to wear this robe because I’m a bladecaster.”

Twilight remembered full well what Rarity was capable of. After all, Twilight had met her father.

She shuddered inwardly at the memory of the stallion who had driven the Sliver through her eye. She reminded herself that she needed to keep things together. Twilight decided that she would wait awhile longer before letting Rarity know who she had run into, and do so in private at least.

“So what about Fluttershy? How can she use earthpony magic?”

“I have not the slightest idea!” Luna practically shouted. “I was hoping that thou couldst explain it to us. Nor do I know how Rainbow Dash freed herself from your spell.”

“Nihilus’s spell,” Fluttershy corrected stiffly.

“Of course!” Luna boomed.

“Hmm...” Twilight said. “Enchantments that cuffle to a pony instead of an inanimate object are unstable by their very nature. I suppose it’s possible that if fed enough non-native energy the bondings in the cuffle could break. But for that to happen the enchantment would already need to be extremely weak.”

“It was,” Rainbow Dash said quietly. “Fluttershy used the stare.” She shifted uncomfortably as she spoke to Twilight.

“Well that makes sense, I suppose. Mind magic isn’t supposed to mix.” She brought a hoof to her chin and scratched. “As for Fluttershy using earthpony magic, I don’t know either. It might have something to do with the Elements of Harmony, I suppose that since we have them in our possession, I should study them.”

“Thou wilt not hath the time, Twilight Sparkle. We need to train you.”

Twilight closed her eyes for a moment. She had been afraid Luna would say something like that. “I’m-” She paused, looking up at her friends, Luna, and Coconut. “I’m not going to fight.”

The look that came over Luna’s face was hard. “Why not?”

Nihilus allowed herself a slight smile as she punted Pinkie Pie off of a balcony to fall to her death. Twilight felt the pain as Rainbow Dash split their face open with the cover of a book. Days earlier, Twilight had watched helplessly as Dash force-fed herself Twilight’s diary.

“I just can’t.”

“We shalt speak of this later. For now, thou wilt tell me everything thou knowest of my sister.”

Titan said, “This brings me no pleasure, Celestia.”

Twilight tried to look away, tried to close her eyes, but she couldn’t.

“Please,” Celestia managed weakly.

The Sliver tore off Celestia’s ear and chewed it thoughtfully, trying to decide on a name while her spell did its work. “You know,” she said casually to Celestia, her mouth full of flesh. “She thought you were going to come and save her. Still does, judging by the racket she’s making now.” She continued to chew on the ear, and blood ran down the corner of her mouth.

Twilight could taste it.

Twilight did her best to keep her cake and cocoa down. “Nihilus took her power and gave it to Empyrean. She’s a simple pony now; no magic at all. Mortal.”

Luna nodded. “I had thought as much.” Her voice was almost at an appropriate volume by now. “Though a spell that doth remove a pony’s magic is supposed to be impossible.”

Twilight looked down, so that Rainbow Dash was no longer in her field of vision. “I break the rules,” she said. “In any case, Titan gave Celestia to Terra. I don’t know where she is.”

Luna nodded stiffly, her expression unreadable. “Empyrean will know. Now that we have Twilight, we can move against him.”

“But you said that there was a barrier between us and the inner city.”

“Indeed. A barrier that thou shalt shatter.”

“I can’t. That’s-”

“Thou didst reorder the Coruscare scale, Twilight Sparkle. Thou said thineself that thou doth break the rules.”

“I-” Twilight paused. An alicorn’s magical barrier would be almost impossible to destroy. The laws of magic stated that no system was perfect, though. “I’ll try,” she offered. “But I would need as much surface area as possible. And as much time as you can get me.”

Luna rose and strode over the table. Everypony followed, and soon they had formed a circle around the map of Canterlot. Twilight noticed several of what looked like monopony figures wrought to resemble Luna, Twilight, and her friends. The only pony missing was Pinkie Pie, who Twilight presumed was represented by the figurine that looked like a top hat.

“The ideal location would be Bolten Square,” Luna mused. “But that is halfway across the city. The pegasi would spot us before we were halfway there. There will also be reinforcements coming through the barrier throughout the day tomorrow after our actions today. And even if we do break the barrier we will need ground to go to.”

“Almost certainly,” Coconut added. “We usually come through on Bay Street, if that’s any help.”

Luna gave her an icy look. “Thou art a prisoner, Captain. I shall not trust a word that thou speaketh.”

“She’s telling the truth,” said Twilight.

“And how dost thou knoweth this?”

“Well, where else would they use?” Twilight said. “They would need one of the major streets for width, just for efficiency. Roan Street is too close to here, where I assume you have been operating out of for awhile now, so they wouldn’t use it.” She looked up at Luna.

“Go on,” the Princess said.

“Princess Lane is too close to the city walls. The barrier intersects Sorrel Street through the Canterlot School of the Fine Arts, making it a perfect ambush site from our side. If I recall correctly, the school has a long overhang that would corral pegasi to one method of approach and the plaza would give us the high ground. The same can be said for Prince Street, but from the other side. If they tried to get a sizable force through the loyalists from the inner city could stand on the bridgeways and tear them apart with an easy escape route through the glass factory. Not to mention the factory itself would provide them with lots of ammunition.”

Twilight began to highlight points on the map. “So that leaves Main Street, Starsworl Avenue, Alicorn Way, and Bay Street as potential main roads to send your troops down. Except you’re sending troops through the barrier; you need to ensure they’re appropriately provisioned and that they can get to their posts in the most efficient was possible. Which means that you have to hit the cannery, the logistics office, and then come out near whatever you’re using for a barracks, which I’ll assume is the steel mill due to its size, defensibility, and proximity to high class housing that you could put officers in to enforce the chain of command.

“The only streets that do this are Alicorn and Bay. So how do we eliminate Alicorn? Simple: morale. Alicorn runs through a heavy residential district; Bay, an industrial one. You want to expose your soldiers to as few starving civilians as you possibly can, for fear that they will defect. And you certainly don’t want to give your civilians a reminder that they’re living in a military state. So you send your soldiers along Bay, and if anything the factory workers are encouraged to slack off less as they pass.”

Twilight conjured and image of the Undercity labyrinth and had it hover above the map of Canterlot. She began to highlight different passageways. “So Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy take this route through the labyrinth. They attack the column of reinforcements coming through the barrier here while they’re on their way to the barracks. Then they draw them back here, in the opposite direction of Bolten Square. Then they take this entrance into the Undercity— it’s buried under the sweet shop on the corner of Alicorn and Crown, you’ll have to dig. They take this route through the labyrinth.” She highlighted more sections in another color. “If all goes well and the barrier goes down, they can rendezvous with us here.” Another highlight. “If not, getting back to this place shouldn’t be to hard, you just follow this route here.” More color coded highlights.

“Meanwhile, right after you’ve started the distraction, Luna, Rarity and I emerge through this entrance and walk one block to Bolten Square. There will still be pegasi and some puppets and soldiers who will catch sight of us, I’m sure, but I can at least disguise us until we get to the actual barrier. I do my best to break the barrier, and if I fail, we go back the way we came. They won’t be able to track us through the labyrinth because they don’t know its layout. If I succeed, however, we push through into the inner city.

“We don’t use force; the barrier coming down will hopefully have created chaos. I take advantage of that chaos to once again disguise us and we use this entrance and this route to get to our rendezvous. After that we lay low and look for the inner city loyalists.” She looked up for the first time at the room’s other occupants. “Make sense?”

They were all staring at her as though she’d grown and extra horn. “Twilight,” said Applejack, “where in the hay did you get a map of the labyrinth?”

“Well, um, Celestia taught me when I was little. Well, not really, I taught myself, she just gave me the books I needed. I never thought that it would be useful knowledge to have.”

“And where,” Luna said quietly, “didst thou learn strategy, tactics, and logistics?”

“I did a book report on it when I was fourteen.”

Rarity tilted her head. “Princess Celestia had you learn about warfare?”

“Well, no,” Twilight said defensively. “I picked the book out myself.”

“You picked a book about warfare when you were fourteen?”

“I-” Twilight though back, remembering... “No,” she said. “No I didn’t. I mean, I thought I did, but...” She frowned. “Celestia had just given me my own rooms, complete with enough shelves to hold an entire library. There were only a couple dozen books when she gave it to me though, and she said I should pick one to do my report on. She said that I should pick something we’d never covered before so that I’d learn something new. She said that she always spoiled me with lessons about the things I loved— magic, science, history— and that I should pick something that doesn’t interest me this time. It was just a suggestion, of course, but when her Royal Highness Princess Celestia gives you a suggestion...

“We’d covered almost every topic on the bookshelf. I had to choose a book that I didn’t find interesting and that I knew nothing about. And only one book fit those criteria. The book Celestia made sure was there. That’s where I’ve heard that name before. The book’s author was named Astor. No Coruscare, just Astor.”

“What!?” The volume of Luna’s voice caused the map to slide across the table. “My sister had thou readeth that book?”

“It didn’t make any sense, and I hated it. It was about how to kill each other. It argued that it was in our nature to kill each other. It described warfare on a scale that Equestria had never seen before. It was incredibly detailed, but the author was crazy. They kept referencing battles that never happened, events that didn’t occur.”

Luna’s eyes were wild. “They did happen, Twilight Sparkle. Almost every written word that existed before the time of Discord was destroyed. Celestia and I decided that history would begin with the end of him. But Astor was special to Celestia, so she kept five things that Astor had written. The first was her diary. Then she kept two copies of Astor’s first book, The Power to Destroy. It details every war-spell from Astor’s time.”

“I remember that book,” Twilight said softly. “Nihilus read it.” The Power to Destroy was the quintessential tome concerning war magic. It did not credit any author, and Twilight had assumed it was an anthology. To think that one pony could have invented so many ways to weaponize magic made Twilight feel ill. Astor Coruscare, her ancestor, had created Magic Missile.

Rainbow Dash shifted uncomfortably once again. Her face was unreadable.

“Celestia also kept two copies of Astor’s other book. A book that could arm ponykind with terrible knowledge. Knowledge that could be used to assemble mass armies and slay each other by the tens of thousands. Knowledge usable by any pony wishing to make war, regardless of their magical power. Knowledge that had no place in the world we wanted to create.”

“I have both copies,” Twilight said softly. “One in my rooms in Canterlot, and the other in the Ponyville library. Except I brought that one with me.” She pulled it out of null-space and set it gently onto the table.

Pinkie Pie grabbed it first. She oohed dramatically as she picked it up. “Why does this book give me chills?” Pinkie said as she opened the cover. Everypony but Twilight and Luna leaned in.

“Well,” Applejack said, “What does it say?”

Pinkie Pie cleared her throat and read the very first page. “Astor presents,” she read loudly.

“Ponies Make War.”

-

Chapter 10 : Daughters and Daughters

Need to contact me for any reason? AestheticBrony@gmail.com

Thanks goes out to Vimbert for his mechanical and conceptual expertise as a reviewer.

Daughters and Daughters

Daughters and Daughters

Esteem walked with deliberate nonchalance through the scene of the battle. Puppets occupied the streets, doing their best to subdue the loyalists, but they were failing. The earthponies and pegasi were practically useless against a powerful unicorn, and the loyalists had them to spare. Even the unicorns could barely hold their own, though Esteem was not surprised. The strongest race of puppets did little more than throw shards, use telekinesis, and cast Magic Missile.

Yes, Esteem reflected, while their purview of skills was enough to subdue the average pony, they were woefully ineffective against the organized, militarized population of inner Canterlot. He shook his head in dismay as he watched a unicorn puppet get crushed under a collapsing building. Their only advantage was in numbers.

Esteem drew a basic shield around himself and the cadet as the dust and debris from the collapsing building reached them. He would need to have the repair crew magically fix the structure sometime within the week. The crew was a useful thing to have. The loyalists and the Royal Army would likely have destroyed inner Canterlot three times over were they not around.

“Cadet.” Esteem stopped and waited for the dust to clear.

“Yes sir?”

“I have in my possession what I believe to be the only copy of The Power to Destroy. Remind me when we return to the palace and I will let you read it.”

“I would very much like that, sir.”

“Your performance in the field lately has convinced me that you deserve the knowledge contained within its pages. The way you held against that peachy little unicorn was particularly creative.”

“He was nothing impressive, sir. I should not have let him get away.”

“Unimpressive is not how I would have described him,” Esteem said thoughtfully. “You survived the entirety of two minutes against one the enemy’s strongest bladecasters. It was a feat that deserves no small amount of praise. That said, I’d like you to return to the palace. I can handle things from here on by myself.”

As he said the words, a force spell struck the bridge-way above them, causing bits of stone rubble to rain down onto Esteem’s shield. He looked on as a group of earthpony puppets were destroyed by a series of azure magic missiles. The bolts of energy burnt holes as wide as a hoof in the earthponies before bursting against the cobblestones.

The Cadet sounded concerned as he spoke. “Are you sure, sir? The loyalists here-”

“Loyalist, Cadet. This is the work of one pony. Now go.”

“Yes, sir.”

Esteem watched lazily as the loyalist’s magic finished off the remaining puppets. The color of the spellcrafting had tipped him off to his opponent’s identity. He was about to fight one of the strongest unicorns the loyalists possessed. Esteem ran his tongue over a sharpened tooth. He could not have been more pleased.

Once his opponent had destroyed the remainder of the puppets, Esteem drew Carsomyr’s component shards from beneath his bladecasting robe. The robe was an extremely light garment of pitch black, made of cloth he had ordered specially enchanted to possess a glossy finish. It looked quite fetching on him.

He considered for a moment where his foe might be. Inner Canterlot was characterized by its tall, round buildings and the arcing bridge-ways that ran between them. The streets were narrow, and any building tended to have at least two balconies. The confined spaces and multiple levels of elevation were naturally advantageous to unicorns.

Esteem selected four of Carsomyr’s shards and charged them with kinetic energy before sending them through the air towards their targets. Two struck the building directly opposite him, burying themselves in the stone walls. The other two were embedded into the underside of a bridge-way and an overhanging balcony. Esteem gently picked an errant strand of mane away from his eyes as he willed the shards to release their payloads.

There was a series of explosions, causing the balcony, the bridge-way, and the building itself to collapse. The four shards of Carsomyr sped back through the dust and rubble to interlock with their kin, assembling the full blade before the general.

They were useful things, explosions.

“I will err on the side of caution,” Esteem called out, “and assume that you were not killed by the blast. Well, my good enemy, I’m standing right here. Come out and kill me if you can.”

A dozen bright azure bolts of energy spiralled out of the dust towards him, and Esteem disassembled his blade and intercepted all of them with Carsomyr’s shards.

Then, he cast a complex spell, focusing on a point next to what he calculated as the origin of the missiles. The world around him shifted, and Esteem blitzed through the space between his original position and the point of his spell, a blur of motion. The dust parted as he tore through it with uncanny alacrity. It took him a tenth of a second to cross the distance and land next to his unicorn opponent.

Both of their blades were disassembled in the air behind Esteem, but the General was trained in hoof-to-hoof combat. As he called Carsomyr through the air, he struck his enemy in the chest with a foreleg, then swept his other foreleg under him and flipped his opponent to the ground.

Carsomyr assembled in the air next to him, and he brought it downward viciously to slay the other unicorn.

His strike was blocked, however, by another unicorn blade, a glowing shaft of amethyst light.

Esteem immediately drew Carsomyr back to deflect an incoming blow from the azure blade, then parried a jab from the amethyst one. He shattered Carsomyr for a diversion, then blitzed back to his original position to face his two opponents. Why did everything always have to get so complicated?

“You too?” he said to the white mare who had joined their little duel. His blade shards tessellated into the full weapon in front of him as he regarded the two unicorns. “I suppose you two have as good a reason as any to want to me dead.” Esteem smiled.

He blitzed in and began to duel the two unicorns. They were good with magic, but their bladecasting was poor, and Esteem could easily hold them both at bay with his lighting-fast strikes. He stood almost motionless between the two unicorns as Carsomyr whipped back and forth.

“This is just embarrassing, you two. Surely you have more than this?”

The mare backed up a step and her horn flashed. A lightning bolt arced between them, but Esteem was ready for it. He blitzed a short distance backwards and caught the electric spell on his blade, sending it towards the stallion.

The stallion erected a shield in time, and Esteem broke a point-shard off of Carsomyr and buried it into the ground between the two ponies. He blitzed backward again, landing several dozen feet away from the couple, then willed the shard to explode.

Dirt and shattered cobblestones were thrown upward by the blast. Each of the unicorns rolled out of the way in time to avoid most of the damage, but Esteem used his telekinesis to tear a wall off of a nearby store and throw it at the stallion. At the same time, he shattered a nearby window and tossed the glistening shards of glass at the mare. Before the projectiles reached their targets, Esteem used his mobility spell to blur across the distance between himself and the stallion, whom he considered to be the weaker opponent.

Esteem should have had him. The stallion had to use all of his concentration to shield himself from the storefront, and his wife was distracted by the storm of glass. Esteem raised his blade, overjoyed that he was finally getting to kill the irritating stallion.

The white mare appeared out of nowhere in the air before him, wielding her blade, and blocked Esteem’s swing yet again. The General gritted his teeth in frustration and pushed Carsomyr against the mare’s blade.

“Run, Midnight!” she shouted. “We can’t take him. I’ll cover you.”

The azure unicorn got to his feet and looked at the two of them. “As soon as he gets to be too much, you get out, okay? No matter where I am, you run.”

“I know, dear.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Esteem watched with frustration as the azure unicorn took off down the street. He could chase the unicorn, but where would that get him? Midnight was far from defenseless, and he still had to deal with the stallion’s wife.

He looked at her over their clashing blades and let his face break into a wide smile. “She looked just like you, Starlight.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“She screamed for Celestia. Over and over again. It wasn’t until I was holding her down that she called out for you.”

Starlight screamed incoherently and lashed out with a series of furiously powerful blows. Esteem blocked them all with ease. He knew that he wasn’t going to kill her, not tonight, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun.

“You know, Starlight, you have a certain determination that I admire. I should think you would make a good wife.”

Starlight looked appalled. “Not on an empty sky, General.”

“I didn’t mean now, Starlight, you’re far too old for me. Twilight was closer to my age, but she lacked your spirit. She was a snivelling coward. Still, our children would have been powerful indeed...”

Starlight spat. “One of these days, Esteem, I’m going to kill you. I don’t care if I have to take Canterlot apart brick by brick, I will hunt you down. There will be no place you can go where you will be safe from me, do you understand?. I will unmake this world to destroy the bastard who took my daughter away.” With that, she vanished.

Esteem let out a long sigh. Teleportation was perhaps the most irritatingly powerful ability he’d ever encountered. Still, he’d sent the loyalists running; that was something at least.

Queen Terra was beautiful even by alicorn standards.

Her coat was the vibrant green of grass in springtime, her mane a voluminous mass of sunshine yellow ether. It flowed around her head and neck, radiating outward with a ferocious intensity. Her eyes were a deep, rich brown that seemed to drink in every sight around her with a child-like eagerness. The crown sitting atop her head was made of vines and blossoms, and as Celestia watched the multicolored flowers would open and close, growing before her very eyes.

Terra had a certain life about her that Titan lacked. While the King radiated a sense of unshakable stability, Terra was always in motion, always letting something new capture her attentions. When the Queen made some new discovery or found a novel way to entertain herself, she would smile, and the sun itself might look upon her with envy for the way she shone. Or perhaps that was just Celestia.

Had Celestia ever been so beautiful? Certainly now she could not compare to the Queen of the world, but what about when she had been a goddess herself? She doubted she had ever matched Terra’s radiance, her charisma, her natural force of personality.

She was mortal— a pony with no magic to speak of, no wings, and no horn. Celestia had believed that she was humble and equine enough to admit that all ponies were equal, that power did not make the pony. That she was no less herself without her magic. The truth was that she hadn’t been anything less than the most powerful and arguably the most beautiful pony in Equestria in over a thousand years. Now, she was the weakest, the only mundane pony in existence. She was empty, and the sun obeyed another.

Terra saw Celestia, and her face broke into her magnificent, infectious smile. To a pony who had never met her, it would be beautiful and heartwarming. To Celestia, it was chilling. She knew what made her mother happy.

“Hey, Sunshine.”

“Hi mom.”

Terra crossed the room suddenly and stopped inches away from her daughter. “Don’t call me that, Sunshine.” Her mane stretched out licked Celestia’s face warmly.

“Don’t call me Sunshine.”

Terra raised an eyebrow. “And why not?”

“It’s not my sun anymore, now is it?”

The strands of Terra’s mane pushed against Celestia’s face, squeezing into her nostrils and pressing up against her chin. “I suppose you’re right,” the Queen admitted.

“So you got bored and longed for my conversational skills?”

Terra laughed and licked her lips. “Not entirely, Celestia. You always want to talk about the same old boring things.” She walked over to the ancient stone table that sat in the center of the room. “No, I’m just exhausted, you see. King Titan has me making as many puppets as I physically can— which is more than you might expect. It keeps the army in numbers and me weak. Can’t have his lady wife try to kill him again, now can he?”

Celestia dropped all pretense. “You despise him, Terra.”

Again, Terra laughed, playing with her voice the most beautiful instrument that Celestia had ever heard. That any pony could hear. “Of course I despise him, Celestia. He’s the only thing more powerful than I am. And for that reason I will never, ever be able to escape him.”

“You tried before.”

Terra’s face darkened. “I did, yes. And I was cast beneath my own firmament for over a thousand years by my daughters, if you recall. But only after my dear husband brought me to the brink of destruction.”

“I could help you. Together, we could-”

Celestia suddenly felt herself bite down on her tongue in the middle of her sentence as Terra’s magic violently forced her mouth shut.

Terra examined the objects on table before her, rearranging them to her desired order. “Stop being such a child.”

Her magical grip was released, and Celestia fought to speak past her bleeding tongue. “I’m older than you, now, mother.”

“But you aren’t older than him,” Terra answered. “Not all of us together are older than him. Even if we were...”

She levitated a dull metal implement from off of the table beside her. She examined it, smiling, then brought the pointed tool to hover in front of her daughter.

Celestia tried to draw away. “No...”

“He knows things, Celestia. He is three thousand years old. You can’t imagine the things he is capable of. He can break his mind into pieces that think for themselves. He can make you do whatever he wills just by looking into your eyes. He breaks all the rules, Celestia. You think that any of us could fight the pony who holds himself above trivial things like reality and truth? I tried, and he swatted me down like an insect.”

Terra smiled her beautiful smile again, and Celestia fought against her restraints. The Queen spoke.

“I didn’t come here to have this conversation with you again, Sunshine. This is a leisure visit. I came here for pleasure.”

Celestia screamed. “Empty sky, Terra! I’m your daughter!”

Terra selected another implement. “Do you think that means anything to an alicorn?” she said quietly. The wicked tool descended.

Celestia split her mind two ways as her mother proceeded. She had one mind take the body; it would experience all of her pain. It would scream, and beg, and ask her mother for forgiveness, because Celestia, like any pony, had a breaking point. It would slowly, ever so slowly, go insane, and when that happened Celestia would have to break her mind again, and again after that.

Soon there wouldn’t be anything left of her. Her solution was only a temporary one; there was no way she could truly stop herself from experiencing Terra’s torture.

“I’d much rather be doing this to Luna, you know. She’s the one who betrayed me. But you’re the one who back-stabbed your dear father, so you’re the one he gives me to play with. He’s so considerate, wouldn’t you agree?”

By now the first Celestia was screaming, and in doing so she was giving Terra what she wanted. The second Celestia was busy observing.

She took note of every expression that crossed Terra’s face. Every spasm that wracked her body, every twitch and jerk. She interpreted everything that Terra had said earlier, and everything she was saying now. She had been doing this for over a month. Soon she would put her observations to use.

Terra watched her writhing with a look of satisfaction. “Just be glad that Titan doesn’t have the time to do this himself. He could create for you a thousand new ways to experience torment. In a way, I envy you. When I need punishing, there is no pony but him to carry it out.”

The Queen turned and walked to where Celestia had been tied to the wall. She leaned in to whisper in Celestia’s ear, and her voice was perfectly steady and sane.

“When I met him for the first time,” she said softly, “his name was Order. And he was good. Like you were. Like I was.” With that, she turned back to the table and selected another tool.

Celestia stared on in utter shock and disbelief. Was Terra telling her the truth? She had assumed that Titan had driven Terra insane, that a thousand years with the King of the world had broken Terra’s mind. If what Terra said was true, it confirmed her theory. It also made Terra more deserving of pity than of hate.

Her first mind disagreed.

“You got to be Queen of the world for so long, Celestia. Beautiful and loved at the top of the paradise you created. Me? I used to be like that, too. I used to sing, and not a single soul could help but love me when I did. Not even Titan, though he loved how I was loved rather than love me.”

Terra seemed as if she couldn’t decide between two particularly promising looking tools, so she settled for both of them. Dimly, Celestia’s second mind heard her first mind screaming.

“We used to be so good.” Terra ran her mane along Celestia’s cheek. “And look at us now.”

“Rainbow Dash?”

The sound of Twilight’s voice caused an immediate feeling of fear to surge through Dash’s body, and she froze. She regained her composure a moment later. “Uh, yeah?” She focused on making her bead, facing away from the unicorn standing in the doorway.

“I brought you a map of your route to the rendezvous. Pinkie Pie says she has it memorized, but she can be a little unpredictable.” Twilight gave an extremely weak laugh.

Dash continued to make her bed, being as slow about it as she could. “Thanks.”

“Do you want to talk, Dash?”

“Maybe later.”

“Alright. I’ll just leave this here.”

With that, Twilight left.

As soon as the door was closed, Dash sunk to the floor beside her bed and began to shiver. It wasn’t Twilight, she thought. It was Nihilus. Nihilus is dead.

But that didn’t change the fact that the Insanity had conditioned Dash to immediately answer at the sound of Twilight’s voice. To feel fear at the very sight of her. To want to obey her every command.

Now, Rainbow Dash was expected to act normally around the unicorn. She couldn’t even act normally around Fluttershy, and they had been living together for almost a month. Dash walked over to the doorway and picked the map up off the ground, then began to don her armor. She had the feeling it was going to be a long day.

“I know I can,” Twilight was saying as they moved through the dark passageways of the labyrinth, “I’m just not going to.” The cool violet light of her horn illuminated the stone hallway before them.

“Thou hast unthinkable power, Twilight Sparkle. If thou were to fight-”

Twilight’s voice became hard. “I am not going to hurt other ponies.”

“Come now Twilight.” Rarity’s lilting tones echoed through the stone corridor. “It is isn’t as though the puppets are real ponies.”

“I know, Rarity. I just can’t.”

“Thou must understand, Twilight Sparkle, if thou-”

Nihilus tossed Luna through the building as though she were nothing more than a toy. The power was exhilarating. She looked around at the screaming townsponies, and lamented the fact that destroying buildings was the only collateral damage she was allowed to cause.

“I can’t, okay!” The ponies around her drew back in shock, and Twilight herself was surprised at the volume of her words. “It isn’t like you always choose the hard path either, Princess. A thousand years ago you could have killed your father and didn’t.”

“And this is the result, Twilight!” Luna’s voice boomed through the labyrinth. “Do you think I do not wish I had slain them both when I had the chance? I wish it more than thou canst possibly imagine.”

“I’ll stay back and help plan. I’ll break the barriers for you. I’ll use the Elements of Harmony. I’ll enchant everypony’s armor. I just can’t fight, Princess. I’m sorry.”

“So be it,” Luna said stiffly.

After that, a silence fell over the group as they proceed through the labyrinth. Only once did they have to cross a chasm, Twilight blinking to the other side while Luna carried Rarity and Coconut over.

They had decided to take the former captain with them. She already knew more than they could afford to let their enemies know, thanks to Twilight, and Luna had decided that she should remain under the Princess’s watchful eye until they could pass her off to the inner city loyalists.Twilight thought it a shame that they had to treat Coconut like an enemy. The mare seemed like a good pony, even if she did think Twilight was their race’s saviour.

When they arrived at the exit, Twilight disguised them by changing their mane and coat colors. The process would have gone quickly, save for the fact that Rarity spent ten minutes fussing about the color of her mane. Luna knew a much more complex version of the spell, and disguised herself on her own on account of the fact that Twilight couldn’t hide her horn and wings. Luna opted to make herself a banana yellow unicorn with a bubblegum pink mane.

“What?” she said in response to Rarity’s grimace.

“It’s just, um, well...”

“We are disguising ourselves, are we not? I look nothing like Princess Luna! Disguise successful.”

Twilight was just happy Rainbow Dash wasn’t around. She didn’t want Dash to see her using the spell.

Thankfully, the circular metal disc that led to the city opened up in the middle of a warehouse, and nopony was around.

“So Twilight,” Coconut said to her as Rarity removed her bladecasting robe and stowed it in Twilight’s null-space. Luna’s spell disguised both the Princess’s robe and her armor.

“Yes, Coconut?”

“Don’t you find it a little odd that Celestia taught you both the layout of the labyrinth and the basics of warfare?”

“Celestia didn’t teach me either of those things. I learned them on my own.” Or at least, she had thought she did. Except Celestia had been the one to give her the first maze book, and the one to choose every book on Twilight’s first bookshelf.

Was it possible that Princess Celestia had intentionally given Twilight the tools she would need to coordinate a rebellion beneath Canterlot? Had Twilight been manipulated into being another one of Celestia’s tools? Was that the Princess’s intent from the beginning? She had to admit to herself that it was too perfect a coincidence.

It hurt to think that Celestia, the pony who had been like a second mother to Twilight, had used her. Twilight didn’t believe that she was just a tool to the Princess. Celestia had loved her.

“Then why didn’t she come to rescue us, kiddo?”

Twilight stopped dead in her tracks. The voice had come from the back of her mind.

Coconut gave her a concerned look. “Did I say something wrong?”

“N-no,” Twilight managed. “It’s nothing. Lets just keep going.” It had been nothing. Twilight was just stressed and hearing things.

The weather outside was overcast and dreary, and the streets were mostly empty save for a few puppets. The minions stood perfectly still, their soulless glares tracking the party as the progressed into Bolten Square, which was bisected by the colossal white wall that was Empyrean’s barrier.

There, they waited, trying to look inconspicuous. It didn’t take long before Twilight spotted an incandescent pink flare soaring through the sky.

Luna turned to the three ponies. “Act!” she shouted. Her orders were followed.

Twilight retrieved Rarity’s robe from null-space and tossed it to the unicorn. The air around Luna shimmered, and the Princess launched herself into the air as she dropped her disguise. Twilight dropped their own disguises, then turned to face the barrier.

“Keep your distance,” she said to Coconut and Rarity. “This could be dangerous, and I need to concentrate.” She turned to see that Rarity already had her blade at the ready, and was facing a group of approaching puppets.

Before Rarity could engage them, Luna landed amongst the puppets and obliterated them with several enthusiastic hacks of her corrosive blade. “Right,” Twilight said to herself. “I guess you two have that covered.” She turned to the looming barrier. “I’ll start... my... thing.”

Twilight extended her magical senses and began to probe the construct. She concentrated, losing herself in the pattern of its magic and becoming blind to the outside world. She fell into the magic, forgetting about Rainbow Dash, or fighting, or the voice she had heard. She examined Empyrean’s barrier.

The barrier was a wonder: a magical construct that required power on a massive scale. Twilight imagined it took Empyrean all his magic to sustain it, if he was indeed the alicorn sustaining the barrier. What was more, the spell that constituted the barrier was incredibly complex.

It was a system, and Twilight Sparkle had to break it. In theory, a perfect magical system was impossible; every spell had weak points. Just like physical matter, Twilight thought, examining the barrier.

A typical enchantment was like a glass for drinking out of: functional, but also easily breakable. Even a small effort could cause the glass to shatter. This made sense, as an enchanter rarely had to take into account another unicorn deliberately attempting to undo their work.

The barrier was different. Naturally, it had been designed to withstand any unicorn meddling. Rather than being made of glass, it was made of steel; the energy required to change or destroy it would have to far exceed the energy spent to create it.

Twilight didn’t have that kind of energy. Nopony did. Simply smashing the barrier to pieces was not an option. Which means I’m going to have to alter the system, Twilight thought. She felt a small surge of excitement; she was about to start playing with the most powerful spell that had ever existed.

Twilight examined the barrier and determined it was not a conjuration. This much she had already guessed; the very idea was preposterous, and would take a hundred times the energy the barrier did in its current state.

Instead it was a massive moment-field. The barrier would detect when an object moved into its vicinity and then apply an opposing force the same way a physical object might. This way energy was only spent keeping objects or ponies away when it needed to.

Woven within the moment-field was a magical damping field to prevent unicorns from affecting anything through the barrier with their own magic. Nihilus had used a similar field on the cages in her audaciously preposterous flying castle.

The thought of Nihilus didn’t bother Twilight Sparkle. She was working.

The moment-field was interwoven with the damping field so that it could be sensed but not affected by unicorn magic. The damping field would have to be destroyed first.

Except the damping field was attached to a kind of web that Twilight had never seen before. It was as though billions of interconnected nodes flowed and pulsed throughout the barrier, directing the energy that constituted the magical construct.

It was with great appreciation that Twilight recognized the web as a collective spell: an enchantment tethered to the other fields.

It meant that Twilight would not be able to affect the barrier in a local fashion. Any energy, any of her magic that was directed at one section of the barrier would immediately be redistributed to the entire thing. She couldn’t strike it with a hammer; she had to use a paddle.

A collective spell could be destroyed, but whoever created the barrier had also spun an entropy scope to guard the barrier; the scope would intercept any magic Twilight sent at it and split and spread it into harmless energy. Finally, the entropy scope was woven back into the collective spell and protected by a reflex mirror: a spell designed to take her spells’ energies and turn them against one another. To top it all off, each defense was protected by the basic suite of spells that an enchanter would normally use to make their enchantments more durable.

Twilight took the barrier in, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

It wasn’t a tear of sadness, or a tear of despair. Truthfully, Twilight still had no idea if the she was capable of breaking the system. Rather, the emotion that finally broke her stony, logical composure was pure wonder; it was the same thing she had felt the first time she watched Princess Celestia raise the sun.

The barrier was a work of art. A creation of pure genius. Its architect had woven five of the most complex spells Twilight had ever seen together; a feat that had required the balancing of dozens of variables. The architect had to have been able to think in at least five dimensions, had to have had both unbelievable power and total mastery over that power, and had to possess incredible acumen in every aspect of magic Twilight could imagine. They had not only pulled it off, but they had done so seamlessly and elegantly, using the absolute minimum amount of energy possible. Twilight was looking at a wonder of the world, a system as perfect as it could possibly be. A system that was almost infinitely complex but at the same time totally predictable.

It was beyond the chaos of ponykind. Twilight felt terrible for having to destroy it. She tried to fathom what kind of a mind could create such a thing, and decided that the only possible answer was King Titan. It was easy to see why he sought a natural order to all things.

Twilight frowned as she looked upon the barrier again. The moment-field and the damping field were woven together as a block of pure steel. The collective spell meant that she was swinging at them with a pizza paddle instead of a hammer. The reflex mirror meant that the block would swing back and intercept its paddle with its own hammer. If she got past the reflex mirror, the entropy scope would cause her paddle to burst into flames and be reduced to ashes.

The laws of magic state that no system can be perfect, she thought.

After mazes she had done block puzzles: cute little things that helped train a unicorn for polycasting. Most unicorns began polycasting in their twenties. Twilight had started when she was eleven.

The block puzzles were always simple, but never easy. Twilight had needed to push blocks around an enclosed area until she could move a specific block, usually colored red, through to the other side of the enclosure and out an exit hole. The area would normally be clogged by multitudes of other blocks, to the point where there was typically only one solution.

Before a unicorn was ready to polycast, they had to be able to solve the puzzles using the minimum amount of moves possible. This meant that they would have to work backwards, determining which block would need to be moved first so as to set off a chain of moves that would bring them victory in the most efficient way possible.

Twilight needed to apply the same strategy here, she reasoned. She needed to turn her paddle back into a hammer. That wouldn’t be enough, however. She needed a way to break the block of steel with just a hammer. The force she could deliver might be constant, but the requisite force that would break the barrier?

A stroke of genius. A spark.

Twilight began to spell-craft, losing herself in the blissful rationality of the process. First, she prepared a spell to peel away the lesser protections surrounding each of the five major obstacles. They were designed to eat any meddlesome spells, so she would give them a poison apple, a spell that they would eat. Her spell would turn them against one another, though, causing the lesser enchantments to eat each other as well.

The lesser enchantments were still cuffled to the collective, however. Twilight couldn’t take the system apart piece by piece; she would have to hit it with a series of spells all at once. She mentally readied a spell to uncuffle the reflex mirror from the whole, then tied it with a meta-spell to another spell that would provoke the entropy scope.

The entropy scope would try to lash out at Twilight’s spell, but when it did Twilight would redirect the reflex mirror with another spell so as to catch and deflect the entropy scope’s magical assault. The two would effectively cancel one another out, the entropy scope breaking its own power into useless raw energy. For it to work, Twilight would have to hit the cuffle between the collective and the entropy scope with another spell at the same time as she redirected the reflex mirror. She tied those two spells together with a meta-spell, too.

She was already managing more spells than she would normally have dared attempt to hold in her mind, let alone cast, under normal conditions. She tried to formulate her penultimate spell— the one that was aimed at the collective enchantment, and thus by far the most complex spell she would use— but she failed. She couldn’t manage to hold that many ideas in her mind at once. That she had gotten even this far was astounding, but she wasn’t going to be able to break the barrier.

“Let me help,” said a voice.

Twilight was beyond even the most powerful emotions, floating in a world of logical thought. The voice did not startle her.

“You aren’t real,” she answered it. “You were destroyed completely. There were no traces of the Sliver on me when I woke up. I must be insane.”

“I am not Nihilus, and we aren’t insane. You know what this is. You know you can use it.”

Twilight pondered her own words for a moment. Did she know? It seemed unlikely that she would lie to herself.

“A fracture,” she said. “A piece of my mind split from the whole. How could I split my mind into two parts? Why would anypony do that?”

“Because,” her own thoughts answered her. “We knew we were changing. We knew that spending so much time with her thoughts would turn us into a monster, too. When we looked through her eyes and watched her do the things she did, we wanted something. Do you remember what it was?”

“I wanted to be free. Now get out of here.”

“We wanted her to die. We wished that we could show her how those spells she was learning were really meant to be cast. Do you remember one of the last things you said to her?”

Twilight tried to ignore the voice, but she couldn’t. It was a part of her.

“We told her that she never deserved a moment of happiness, you and I. She begged us for her life, and we told just what we thought of her. And you know what else? It felt good.”

A cold feeling crept along the back of Twilight’s neck. She wanted to detect some hint of internal manipulation coming from the barrier. She wanted to call the voice a liar. “A pony can’t split their mind into parts. It’s impossible.”

“I agree. Funny how we’re both still here.”

“I don’t want to be like you.”

“So don’t be. I’m not a crazy axe murderer who wants to burn this city to the ground. I’m not out to laugh maniacally as I murder all our enemies. I don’t want a silly flying castle. I’m not her. You aren’t her. We aren’t her. I’m just a little different.”

Twilight was skeptical. “Different how?”

“For one, I’d exercise a little less modesty. We’re the only pony who can argue with themselves while juggling a suite of meta-spells designed to break the King of the world’s unbreakable shield. I think I have all our pride. Also, you’re being absurdly pacifistic. You don’t want to fight the soulless constructs trying to hurt your friends. What are you so afraid of?”

Twilight knew the other part of her already knew. “Becoming like her.”

“You’re smarter than that. Nihilus was almost our exact opposite! You can’t just shut away every part of yourself that reminds you of her! Then you’re only half of Twilight Sparkle. Then you’re broken.”

Twilight had to admit that she was making a lot of sense. The weight of the spells was straining her to her limit. “So what do you suggest?”

“We can be strong without being evil. We can protect the ponies we love without torturing the ponies we hate. Our friends seem to manage it quite nicely.”

Twilight reached into her mind, exploring the depths of her consciousness to find the source of the voice. Her voice. This is so weird, she thought. I’m in way over my head.

Still, she delved deeper, until she found the piece of herself that had split from the whole. She didn’t even know if splitting one’s consciousness was a magical feat or not. She wondered briefly if she was well and truly insane.

She touched her other self, then took the fragment of her consciousness into the whole. It felt... right. As though she had been missing that part of herself since she awoke in Ponyville. She looked again at the barrier, then divided herself once more. Again, it felt natural, as though she was stepping out of horseshoes that were a size too small. Suddenly there were two Twilight Sparkles, neither of them the true Twilight and neither of them a false one. Rather, there was a Twilight and a Sparkle.

The first Twilight held in her mind all of the spells that they had formulated thus far. The second continued the work, adding the remaining two spells, the first of which was monstrously complex and the second of which was brutishly simple. Her two minds held the spells in their thoughts.

“Ready, Twilight?”

“Ready, Sparkle.”

To an ordinary unicorn, what followed might have seemed like an overly complex math problem; a series of precise allotments of magical energies into their respective formulae. Boring. To Twilight and Sparkle, it was a mix between a heist and a series of coordinated explosions aimed at bringing down the monument of the gods. They followed their own spells as they cast them, letting themselves get absorbed by the energies they were manipulating. If Twilight failed, her mind would probably break. Sparkle reminded her that it might be broken already.

Twilight’s spell snuck into the lesser enchantments, vicious little dogs designed to eat incoming magic. They found Twilight’s spell and devoured it just as Sparkle severed their cuffle to the whole. The dogs turned on each other, and Twilight and Sparkle immediately moved to their next objective, cascading downwards on a torrent of magical power.

Sparkle blew through the cuffle connecting the reflex mirror to the rest of the system as Twilight handled the more delicate spell to draw the entropy scope’s attentions. Both succeeded, and the mirror and scope began to eat away at each other as Twilight and Sparkle rocketed ever downward at what felt like a million miles a second.

It was time for their masterstroke, their ace in the hole. Sparkle readied all of their remaining power into a battering ram of destructive force, and Twilight wove the most complex spell that she— they— had ever cast.

Twilight hit the collective enchantment with a veritable super-spell. She struck at the very nature of the spell, altering its purpose by only a small amount as she stiffened one of the bonds between the nodes that comprised it. The collective spell recognized the new bond as the norm, and every other bond as an anomaly. It quickly worked to correct the fault, causing every bond in the entire collective to change according to Twilight’s specifications.

The collective spell now worked against its original purpose— it would take magical forces and spread them throughout the barrier as intended, but it would not mitigate them over its entire surface area. Instead it would perform the opposite function, actually delivering the entire effect of one blow to every single point on the barrier.

Twilight couldn’t break a solid block of steel with a hammer. So she had made the steel a glass, and placed a chisel beneath her hammer. The barrier was still incredibly large; but it was not without its points of cleavage.

In the instant of time that Twilight gave her, Sparkle gleefully pounded on the chisel as hard as she could. Everything they had left, every scrap of magical power, was thrown onto the tiniest point that she could manage.

Her two minds had accomplished their tasks, so they came together into a whole again. This was Twilight’s purpose, she thought. Not killing or violence or destruction, but the manipulation of forces beyond what most ponies could comprehend. How could her friends know that what she had done was just as straining and dangerous as mortal combat?

Twilight was brought out of her thoughts and back into the real world with a shock. She felt dizzy and disoriented, and resisted the urge to vomit as she fell to the ground. She had used far too much power, far too much mental discipline, and— what else had she done? She’d split her consciousness into two Twilights; or rather, a Twilight and a Sparkle. She hadn’t known such a thing was possible.

She was dimly aware of Coconut, the earthpony who had sworn to serve Twilight the night before, running to her side and supporting her head. Darkness enclosed her field of vision, and she fought it, desperately trying to stay conscious. Coconut was saying something, smiling at her in amazement, but Twilight couldn’t hear her.

Then she watched as Coconut looked up in shock at something outside of Twilight’s line of sight. Coconut jumped in front of Twilight, and a moment later Twilight felt a wet warmth splash across her face. She watched Coconut fall limply to the ground, a hole in her neck, and realization struck her just as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Twilight had never told Rarity about her father.

Rarity watched as Coconut Crunch collapsed to the ground, blood spraying everywhere. She looked down, at the tiny, chevron-shaped piece of enchanted platinum-iridium that had landed right before her hooves. It was the point-shard of a blade, one that Rarity immediately recognized.

It was impossible. That was all Rarity could think— that there was no way this could be happening. It had been over ten years since she and Sweetie Belle had been taken away and given to a better home. Even with the war going on, Rarity had almost entirely forgotten about... him.

Her eyes followed the point-shard as it was dragged across the cobblestones, making a tiny scraping noise and leaving a trail of Coconut’s blood. It reached the hooves of another unicorn, then was lifted into the air to affix itself to its proper place on the end a wicked length of metal. Rarity looked beyond the blade she knew to be Carsomyr, at the pure white stallion wrapped in a silky black robe. A blood red mane of cascading spikes flowed around his head, framing the two pale blue eyes that Rarity herself had inherited. Esteem smiled.

“I hope you aren’t counting on your alicorn to save you anytime soon,” he said. “I brought my own, you see.”

He blurred through the space between them, appearing beside her suddenly. It was all Rarity could do to look at him in horror, immobilized by a primal terror that had been programmed into her since she was filly. She noticed that there were streaks and spatters of red patterned onto his bladecasting robe, difficult to see against the dark black of the fabric. He raised his blade and delicately brushed away a strand of her mane to look into her eyes, then smiled wolfishly.

“My little girl,” said her father. “All grown up.”

It was in the air, after cleaving a pegasus puppet in two, that Luna spotted her father hovering not fifty feet away from her.

It wasn’t actually King Titan, of course. Luna would have felt the ancient alicorn’s presence almost immediately had he come anywhere near Canterlot. Still, the pony Luna was looking at was undoubtedly her father in some form or another.

It looked very much like a pegasus puppet, with a matte black coat and black wings. This pony’s mane was made Titan’s flowing white ether, though, and its eyes were a burning white. Upon its flanks burned a ghostly white circle, and another conflux of white energy formed a phantom horn atop its head. It was average sized, and thus much smaller than Titan, but still close to Luna’s height.

Luna was more than a little shocked at his appearance, but she did not let the emotion show on her face. She had no idea how strong Titan was in his demi-form, but she had no option other than fighting him. Rarity would have to protect Twilight Sparkle on her own. They could not let the Elements come to harm.

Titan brought himself through the air until he was within reasonable speaking distance of his daughter. “Surrender, Luna,” he said in his unnaturally resonant voice. “Even with me in this fragile form you cannot hope to defeat me. You will wed Empyrean.”

“Never.”

“I see.” Titan looked down to the streets of inner Canterlot. Most of the buildings had taken extensive damage, and several bridge-ways had collapsed. Flashes of light could be seen where loyalists battled puppets. It appeared as though there was some heavy fighting going on.

“Ponykind,” Titan said with contempt. “I grow tired of their useless attempts to resist. They have forgotten the power of their King. I do not hold it against them, of course. They are a race of beings forever struggling through infancy. I do not wish to harm them, Luna, but they are lost, and they cannot show themselves the way. Direct intervention is necessary.”

“Thou dost not deserve the right to rule them, Titan.”

Titan looked up at her with his emotionless eyes. “And you do?”

Luna swallowed. “No,” she said. “I do not.”

“Interesting.” Titan once again looked down at the chaos of the conflict beneath them. “Ponykind,” he said once again. “They are insignificant specks beneath our hooves, my daughter. Faded reflections of the power and beauty of the alicorn. They need to be reminded of this. And so do you.”

Titan cast his blade, a plain, polished length of pure black. Luna remembered Terra having told her that its name was Singularity. She cast Nadir. “It has been some time,” Titan mused, “since I have had reason to show off. Let us hope that I am still capable of the grandiose performance that ponykind has come to expect from us. Come.” With that, Titan dove downward towards inner Canterlot.

Luna despised doing as she was told, but what else could she do? Hang defiantly in the air as Titan slaughtered the loyalists below? She dove, following the King.

Titan and Luna landed in the middle of an urban battlefield. Unicorns and puppets were taking shots at each other from across a wide square, and their spells were obliterating the buildings around them. At the center of the square was a mostly intact fountain. When Titan and Luna struck the cobblestones, several of the surrounding ponies stopped to look at them. Some, locked in combat, did not.

That changed when a sphere of concussive force spread outward from the King, knocking every puppet and pony except Luna to the ground and clearing away any debris. Everypony in the square turned to to look at Titan and Luna as they faced one another.

Titan spoke. “Bow before your king.”

To the immense credit of the loyalists present, none of them did. They stood looking from Titan to Luna, silent. Titan swept his gaze back and forth across the square, taking in their defiance. “There is a doctrine in the Natural Order. It states that every creature alive owes me its life, its will, and everything it possesses.”

Luna gritted her teeth. “They owe thee nothing, Titan!”

“You are correct, Luna.” Luna tilted her head in confusion, and a murmur went through the loyalists. Titan looked upon them with no trace of expression. “You cannot owe what you do not possess. Have never possessed.” Then his face twisted into a snarl. “You are mine.”

Suddenly Titan had crossed the space in between himself and Luna, and he swung at her with Singularity. The attack came out of nowhere, and Luna barely managed to block it with her own blade. The force of the blow threw her backwards, and she rolled, coming to her hooves again and skidding across the cobblestones.

When she righted herself, Titan had spun, crossed the square, and sliced a loyalist unicorn into two pieces with a single swing of his blade, He looked almost bored as he stabbed an earthpony in the chest while simultaneously deflecting several chunks of thrown rubble with his magic.

The fighting had resumed, and the loyalists in the square were hopelessly outmatched facing the King and his puppets. What was more, the puppets were acting with a sudden cohesion that they usually lacked, as though Titan’s presence alone made them more intelligent. Which, Luna supposed, was entirely possible. She truly had no idea what kind of magic her father was capable of.

Luna split herself into a swarm of bats and threw herself towards the King. As she sped through the air, she passed over two unicorn puppets, tearing them apart with her thousands of tiny fangs. She reached Titan just as he raised Singularity to strike down another pony. Luna reformed in front of Titan’s target, a unicorn, and blocked Titan’s swing with Nadir. She tried to stab him.

Titan parried lazily even as he tore the wall away from a nearby building, breaking it into splinters before casting them at his daughter. The unicorn behind Luna threw up a shield spell to block the splinters as Luna continued to duel the King.

She called the powers of winter, and the ground beneath her frosted over as she threw several shards of ice at the King. At the same time, she split Nadir into a dozen magic missiles and cast them through the air at the puppets across the square.

Titan shattered the icicles with several contemptuous sweeps of Singularity, then used his own shield spell to block the fragments of wood that the rescued unicorn had decided to throw at him. He attacked her again, and Luna beat her wings and flipped over Titan’s swing even as she reformed Nadir.

Her blade had killed six puppets when she split it into missiles, opening the way for several loyalists to escape. Instead they stayed, aiding their comrades in fighting the other puppets.

Titan and Luna exchanged a series of lightning-fast blows as they dueled their way across the square. It was clear that the King was a much better bladecaster than she, and Luna was pushed back. The King simply walked towards her, staring dispassionately at the Princess as Singularity beat aside every single one of her blows.

Their allegiances had been made abundantly clear, and occasionally a puppet or a pony would aim a spell at the Princess or the King. Titan easily deflected or shielded any incoming magical attacks, but Luna struggled to keep pace.

Luna dodged a swing too slowly, and Singularity opened a deep gash along her back, just barely missing her wings. Then, Titan struck her with a hammer blow of telekinesis, knocking her backwards and into the fountain that occupied the center of the square. He struck her with his mind once again, and the stone fountain shattered, the blow sending Luna sprawling amongst the rubble.

Titan was not trying to kill Luna. He turned away from her, flapped his wings, and crossed the square once again to begin killing ponies.

Pain made its presence known in every part of Luna’s body, but she did not let it deter her. She stood up and followed the King. Again, he raised his blade to strike down a loyalist, this one an earthpony. Again, Nadir intercepted his blow.

Titan threw his magical weight behind Singularity, pressing downward on Luna’s blade. The Princess grunted and threw her weight against Nadir. Her blade flared.

“Save him,” Titan said, referring to the pony Luna was protecting. “Save him today and he will die tomorrow. Or a week from now. Or in decades. It matters not, Luna. Every pony will die, and I will rule every pony. These truths are immutable. Why fight alongside these mortals when you could rule them as a god?”

Luna met her father’s eyes as she concentrated completely on pushing away his blade. “I would rather fight as one of them,” she managed, “and die.” She threw Titan back, and noticed that the loyalists had taken out most of Titan’s puppets. Many of them were watching her fight the King. “Than turn my back on mine and Celestia’s kingdom. Thou art wrong, Titan,” she spat his name out like a curse. “They do not exist to serve us. We exist to serve them.”

“When did you become so lost, child?” Titan swung at her, and Luna once again beat her wings and flipped over the king. She landed, and Titan’s blade came down at her from above. She blocked it with Nadir, but the force of the blow was jarring. While Titan tossed several chunks of solid stone at her while she was staggered.

A stone struck her, bouncing off her body and threatening to throw her off balance, but she had enough earthpony magic to be fine otherwise. The rest of the stones struck a flimsy unicorn barrier in the air while Luna continued to duel the King.

It was the loyalists. They were helping her.

“Do you truly think that you can accomplish anything here?” Titan walked lazily toward Luna while the princess pushed herself to her limits to keep up with the speed of his blade. “No loss I suffer is permanent. I am eternal and unyielding. If it takes me a century to quell ponykind’s rebellion, then so be it.”

He continued to throw things at her as they dueled. Wood, glass, and stone were stricken out of the air by any loyalists who had the magic to spare. A block of stone caught her in the side once again, however, and Luna was thrown to the ground. Luna struggled to stand as Nadir was extinguished. She couldn’t rise in time.

Titan raised Singularity to deal her a debilitating wound, but as he brought it down it was blocked in the air by another spell blade. Luna looked up to see a loyalist bladecaster wielding a deep red shaft of light standing above her. The unicorn was wearing a black bladecasting robe, and his face was strained with exertion and defiance.

Luna rolled out from under the clashing blades, but before she could attack Titan herself, another unicorn joined the first and struck the surprised King with a pinpoint burst of force. Titan was thrown backwards into the center of the square.

The mare who had struck the King smiled as Luna got to her hooves. “And here we were under the impression that you were one of the bad guys,” she said. “Long live the Princess, I suppose.”

The bladecaster let out a noncommittal grunt. “More like death to the King.”

Luna looked from one unicorn to the other, trying to make a decision. “Thou,” she finally said to the bladecaster.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Nice voice.”

Luna ignored the remark. “Twilight Sparkle is unconscious in Bolten Square. Thou must retrieveth her and see her to safety.”

“Twilight Sparkle?”

“She is a lavender unicorn.”

“-I know what color she is. You’re telling me she’s alive?”

“Indeed. I cannot save her,” Luna said, looking towards Titan as he picked himself up in the center of the square. The King did not looked harmed in the slightest. Luna was approaching her limits. “I am needed here. Please.”

The bladecaster seemed to consider her command for a moment, then sighed. “I suppose I can spare a minute for Twilight Sparkle. The way everypony talks about her around here, you’d think she was the best pony alive.” The bladecaster dismissed his weapon and ran off.

Then she turned to the other unicorn. “Keep thine distance from the King,” she said. She flew at her father once again.

Titan beat his wings and met her in midair, and Luna was thrown to the ground. Before he could have at her with his blade, though, a unicorn tossed a wooden beam at his head. He batted it away with Singularity, but another unicorn threw a swarm of glass at him.

Another bubble of concussive force expanded outward from the King, and everypony, as well as the few puppets remaining in the square, was thrown to the ground once more. Luna immediately threw herself to her hooves and exchanged another series of blows with her father. As they fought, Titan spoke. “You fight for them,” he said steadily. “But see how impotent their attempts to harm me really are.”

Titan caused the ground beneath Luna to buckle as she parried a jab, and she was once again thrown onto her back. Her father pinned her. “Ponykind,” he said, “is powerless to stop the likes of us.” He raised his blade.

Luna smiled, and Titan paused. She looked up at the King, past him, far into the air behind him. “We shall see,” she said simply.

Then she used her magic to create her own telekinetic burst, a miniature explosion between the two of them. Luna was thrown backwards against the ground, and several of her bones broke from the impact. Titan was thrown upward, into the air, where Rainbow Dash struck.

It was a bolt of polychrome lightning as thick around as a tree trunk. The entire square was lit up by the intensity of the thunderstrike, and Luna had to shut her eyes. The lightning bolt speared the king directly through the middle, and Rainbow Dash landed beneath him, one foreleg extended for balance as she landed nimbly on the ground.

Then, she shot upward and kicked the King of the world in the face.

They landed apart from each other, with Titan between Luna and Rainbow Dash. Dash looked past the King at Luna. “There’s alicorn puppets?” she said incredulously.

Luna spat out a mouthful of blood and prepared to stand back up. “Be careful,” she managed. Luna did not want to see Dash’s temerity get her killed.

With his back turned to Luna, the Princess could only hear what the king was saying. “I am no puppet, girl. Die now.”

He charged, swinging Singularity horizontally, and Rainbow Dash flipped over the blade as she kicked him in the face once again with her hind legs. She spun to avoid a stab and punched Titan in the chest, then rolled away from another strike.

“You think that your blows can harm me, child?”

“No,” Dash said. “But they do a pretty good job of distracting you.”

Luna stabbed Titan in the back, and Nadir devoured the King’s conjured flesh. She tore the blade upward, rending Titan in two, and the King dissipated like any other puppet.

Dash looked at the Princess. “The others were safe, so I figured I’d come help out. Did you see that awesome lightning bolt? It was like-” She caught the look that Luna was giving her and stopped. “Are you alright?”

Luna examined herself. Her flesh had been pulverized in places, making her form seem oddly misshapen. She knew that she was carrying around several broken bones. Other than those things, she was quite fine. “I am, Rainbow Dash.”

“Where’s Twilight?”

“I sent somepony after her. Hopefully she will be fine.”

“And Rarity?”

Luna considered this for a moment. “I am not sure.”

Less than a second after he brushed her mane away, Esteem tried to murder Rarity.

His blade snapped back, and then came arcing down towards her head, a silvery blur. Rarity managed to raise Vorpal in time to catch her father’s blow. My father, she thought. She began to hyperventilate. This couldn’t be happening.

Esteem regarded the point where their two blade met. “Good,” he said. “It seems that Princess Luna has been building upon my lessons.”

Rarity felt like she was a filly again. She wanted to run away, to hide in a closet, to jump beneath the covers with her mother.

Except her mother had never been able to protect her. She had attended her father’s lessons, every time.

“Y-y-you’re,” she stammered. “You’re-”

“Young?” It was true; her father looked ten years younger than when Rarity had seen him last. He looked as though he was her age. “Yes, Rarity, I am quite a bit younger now. My new job comes with excellent benefits. But I don’t want to talk about work.”

He lowered his blade, turned around, and walked a short distance to face inner Canterlot. “We have so much catching up to do!” he called out. “To start, why don’t you show me all the things you’ve learned while you were away and I’ll show you inner Canterlot!”

Rarity tried to kill him.

It was simple, really; her father was the enemy. She had watched him murder Coconut Crunch in cold blood just moments before. She doubted that she had a hope of defeating him in single combat, so she attacked him when his back was turned.

In a perfect world, Rarity might have been able to capture or imprison her father. Certainly, that would have been preferable to killing him. But the world wasn’t perfect. Not anymore.

She shattered Vorpal and threw the shards at her father. Before they had crossed half the distance between her and her father, however, every shard was met in the air by afragment of Carsomyr. The blade shards ricocheted off of each other, and Rarity noticed with dismay that her father’s blade reformed much faster than her own.

Her father had not turned around. “You want to start with yourself? Alright. Your shatter is quite effective, and certainly has speed, but it lacks precision, my Rarity. Still, admirable nonetheless.”

Suddenly he was behind her, moving through the air between them more quickly than Rarity would have thought possible. “Let’s go check out the city, shall we?”

Then he attacked her, and it was all Rarity could to keep herself alive. Her father’s blows came faster than she could track, and she began to use her magical senses to follow his blade rather than her eyes. With every blow he beat Rarity back another step into the city, and they had travelled two blocks before Rarity realized that he wasn’t trying to kill her at all. He could do that any time he pleased.

He forced her back to the edge of a conflict between the loyalists and the Royal Army, and then her father struck her blade so hard that Vorpal shattered and she was thrown to the ground. He slowly turned in place to face down the street.

“This, Rarity, is a proper shatter.” He broke his blade and sent the pieces after an earthpony over a hundred feet away.

The shards bit into the earthpony’s body in more than one place, and he went down with a horribly short yelp. Then, her father recalled the pieces, and the pony was dragged towards them across the road.

“You see how accurate my strike was,” her father said as the moaning pony left a smear of blood in his wake. “You see how I maintained control despite the distance? You should strive for these things, my daughter.”

Rarity looked at her father in horror. Finally, she found the courage to speak. “Monster.”

The earthpony came to a stop between them, and he was jerked upward as the pieces of metal lodged inside his body were pulled into the air to reform her father’s blade. “A monster, am I?” He met her eyes.

“So be it.”

With three wide, vicious sweeps of Carsomyr, Rarity’s father spread the helpless earthpony all over the street around them. Rarity and her father were both covered in him.

Esteem looked her over. “I am sorry, my Rarity. The red does not go with your mane nearly as well it does with mine. I shall be more considerate in the future.”

Rarity threw her blade at her father again, but it was a futile gesture; Esteem batted it away effortlessly. She tried to hit him again and again, and each time he deflected her blows.

“Come now, Rarity. Cease this childish nonsense. I would like you to come with me back to the palace.”

Rarity looked up at the stallion who had just murdered another pony in cold blood. At the stallion who had made her childhood a constant torment. At her father, who had killed her mother.

He noticed the look of disgust on her face. “I didn’t honestly expect you to agree at first, of course. But you will.”

Rarity’s answer was to shatter her blade and throw it at Esteem. Again, he effortlessly thwarted her attack. “This is not a fight, my daughter.” He came at her again, and once more Rarity could barely keep up with his incredible alacrity. She was forced back, through a doorway that lacked a door and into a stone house. Her father continued to speak. “This is not a contest of wills.”

He slapped Vorpal with his blade hard enough to send Rarity rolling. She parried a jab as she stepped backwards onto a ramp leading to the upper stories.

Having the high ground didn’t help against her father. His blade pivoted into and out of attacks with a haste that Rarity doubted even Luna could have matched. What was more, Esteem’s art was perfect; each block flowed into a cut, each cut forced her own blade into a compromising position. He and his blade moved with a symbiotic, liquid-like grace that even Rarity had to admit was beautiful. He was always in control, always dictating her actions through the force of his own.

It was his talent, his art. What use was Rarity’s talent here? What was beautiful about the innocent blood that soaked her face and mane?

He stopped and spoke when they had reached the third story. “You will come with me to the palace, Rarity. I will not settle for any other outcome.”

“I shall do no such thing!”

He turned Carsomyr flat and slapped her across the face before she could move her own radiant weapon to intercept him. He had not softened the blow, and Rarity tasted blood.

“Very well,” he said merrily.

They continued, and Rarity was pushed out of the building and onto an overhanging bridge-way. Her father struck Rarity’s blade so hard that it broke once again, and Rarity almost lost the will to reform it. She looked down, over the edges of the thin bridge connecting two structures, into the narrow streets below.

Canterlot was in chaos. Windows were shattered, fragments of glass glistening in the streets. Doorways had been blown off their hinges, and here and there a structure was missing a corner, or a wall had collapsed. The tall buildings cast long shadows over the cluttered streets below.

Puppets and soldiers of the Royal army battled loyalists from between the decimated buildings. Earthponies in makeshift armor wrestled their fellow ponies in the street, and colorful blasts of magic zipped and arced between the two sides. The smaller spells dented the streets and buildings when they missed. The larger ones created pony-sized holes.

And there were corpses. Not very many, but enough.

She looked over Vorpal, at her smiling father, who she had been dueling for almost ten minutes. She felt her bladecasting robe, wet with blood, sticking to her coat. “What am I doing here?” she whispered. “This isn’t me.”

Her father answered her. “You are doing what I taught you to, Rarity.”

She couldn’t defeat Esteem, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t defy him. “I will never be like you.”

He laughed. “You are perhaps the strongest bladecaster I have ever met, my daughter. Do you think that any other pony could keep that pace with me for more than thirty seconds? You have the gift, Rarity.”

Blood was dripping from Rarity’s mane and running down her face. “I don’t want it,” she said. She jerked her head toward the fighting below them. “This is barbaric,” she said.

“Tell me, my Rarity. Would you still be alive were it not for my training? Have you not used your blade to protect your friends and bring ruin to your enemies? I gave you knowledge. I gave you power. And with it you have performed magnificently.”

He turned and flung a shard of Carsomyr into a unicorn below them. Rarity knew she should have looked away, but her better judgement failed her. She watched the unicorn explode from the inside out. Her father continued.

“You may despise me, my daughter, but I never sought your love. I had to give you the tools you would need in Titan’s new world. Not just to survive, but to excel. I made you... superior.”

Rarity took a step back from her father as she fully realized the weight of his words. “No...” she said. “You couldn’t have known.”

Esteem forcefully took a step towards her. “Little girl,” he said. “Of course I knew. My talent, my purpose, is war. War.”

His mouth twisted into a snarl, and he shattered his blade and sent the enchanted shards tearing through the air around them. They bit into the street, the buildings, and even some of the ponies below.

“No!”

The shards exploded, and the street below them was obliterated. Puppets and ponies on both sides were crushed and torn to shreds by flying stone and splinters. Despite the noise, Rarity could still clearly hear her father shouting.

“War, Rarity! It is a part of the natural order, a part of our very species! It comes as easily to us as love and loathing, as virtue and vice! It separates the weak and the worthless from the powerful and the privileged! War ruins the individual, but it tempers the race!”

He snapped the pieces of his blade together so quickly that several of them blew through the edges of the bridge-way to reach their proper position. Then, he thrust the blade into the stone before him.

“Celestia sat on her throne,” he spat, “playing god, and she lobotomized our race, Rarity. She expunged from history our greatest conflicts and burnt the books that we had written. In the name of her greater good, she presumed to take from us our natural right, and for a thousand years our race stagnated. What right did she have to decide what we could and could not do? I was born to kill. A warrior pony in a world without war. How dare she deny me a life of purpose.”

“No...” Rarity took another step away from her father.

“It was I who brought Titan back into this world!” he declared triumphantly. “I who redeemed our species!”

Rarity looked at her father. At the intensity of his eyes, the hard set of his mouth. She realized that he wasn’t lying, not to her or to himself. Esteem was perfectly sane.

What was more, he had taken her entire world from her. He had reduced her life as a happy business owner and a loving sister to ashes. He had taken from her a life where her biggest worries were deadlines and the quirky antics of her friends.

“And when your dear mother Honey Dew learned about the King, she wanted nothing to do with it. She wanted to tell the Princess. She wanted to run. But you already know how that turned out, don’t you, my Rarity?”

Rarity attacked again, throwing all of her magical weight into a single thrust. Halfway through the movement of her attack, she shattered her blade, and fourteen separate, razor sharp diamonds sped towards her father in a cluster faster than Rarity had ever made them move.

Her father caught every shard on a moment-field, then broke his own blade and drove the shards into Rarity’s glimmering diamonds. They were beaten off the bridge-way to land on the ground below as Rarity was thrown to the floor of the bridge.

“You are beaten,” he said, levelling Carsomyr at her. “It is useless to resist! Don’t let yourself be destroyed as your mother did!”

“I’m not like you. I’ll never be like you.”

“You can destroy Empyrean, Rarity. You and your friends. He knows this. He fears it. Join me and your reward will be greater than anything you can imagine. You and I will rule Canterlot as father and daughter. Eternal youth will be yours, my Rarity, and a place amongst the new nobility. Not a flock of politicking, spoiled brats, but a nobility made of the noble. A nobility made of the powerful and graceful, of the beautiful and terrible. You will be loved and respected by all, and nothing your heart could desire would be outside your grasp. Not even the lives of your friends.”

Again, Rarity looked into her father’s intense blue eyes and saw that he was telling her the truth. If she became his daughter, she would have it all. She would live forever young as a sophisticate, with the ability to set trends and wear whatever she wished. Without her, Rarity’s friends would have no choice but to retire their war efforts, and Rarity could ensure that they lived in safety.

She would be powerful, too. She was already. Esteem could fashion her into a weapon as deadly as she was beautiful, and she would bring woe to those who opposed her. Her enemies, without exception, would die. She would have respect, fear, admiration, and security. Even if her father was a monster, who could refuse such a thing?

It was then that Rarity felt something else, a heaviness inside her that was not at all uncomfortable. It made her grit her teeth, raise her chin, and return the intensity of her father’s stare. It flowed through her, strengthening her resolve, powering her defiance. Her friends were better than a safe compromise made with her father. They were better than a superficial unicorn who only sought the approval of others. She would not let them down. Rarity was feeling loyalty.

Then, with a shock, Rarity realized that she was feeling Loyalty. She knew, just as she knew that the sky was never empty, that Rainbow Dash was only seconds away from her. She knew that Dash knew exactly where she was, and, inexplicably, she knew how she was going to escape.

She tapped Dash’s defiance, Dash’s unyielding determination, and Dash’s indomitable willpower. She took the emotions, the traits, and spun them around inside herself, weaving Dash’s drive into something that she could appreciate. That she could use.

“You aren’t beautiful.”

Esteem’s eyes flashed. “What did you say?”

“You’re pretty,”she spat. “You have form and function. You have a dedication to aesthetics. But you’re rotten on the inside. Twisted and black. Your soul is a dead, withered thing and anyone who sees you can tell that you’re hideous within. You measure others by their ability to kill as you surrender your mind to a philosophy of tyranny and oppression. Well my talent is beauty,and that is the standard by which I measure you! And I find you worthless! The shame I feel at having you for a father!”

Esteem took a step back, mortified, and his mouth once again twisted into a snarl. Rarity rolled off of the bridge.

She knew exactly when and how to fall, for some reason. Exactly what position she would need to assume so as to let Rainbow Dash catch her. And catch her Rainbow Dash did.

Rarity called and assembled her blade from the streets below to deflect the blow that Esteem aimed at the pegasus as they flew away. Dash was fast, incredibly fast, and Esteem only managed one long-range assault before they were well out of his range and above the city.

“I thought knights were supposed to do the rescuing,” Dash said.

Rarity gave her a flat look, but then she felt her expression soften. “Thank you, Rainbow Dash, for saving my life. I... I am glad I have friends like you.”

A lucid haziness permeated Twilight’s being and she was dimly aware of the cold, smooth cobblestones beneath her. She tried to remember what had woken her from her blissful slumber, but the information escaped her like water falling through her hooves. Feeling slowly flooded back into her chillingly numb limbs as she opened her eyes and was treated to the sight of four pale orange hooves resting on the road before her.

“Sparkle! Sparkle, get up!”

That was what had woken her from her soothing sleep, she thought dazedly. That voice. Did it sound familiar? She slowly turned her head upward, and the motion felt strangely light to her, as though her head were weighted differently. She looked at the pony who was calling her name, a brown maned, pale orange unicorn in a thin black bladecasting robe.

“You’re... a knight. A bladecaster.” She couldn’t remember if that was important or not. Her thoughts were a muddled mixture sloshing about in her brain.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Me? I’m nopony impressive. You, on the other hoof, are Celestia’s most faithful.”

Twilight lethargically got to her hooves. “I’m... Twilight Sparkle. That sounds right.” She felt a little dizzy.

The other unicorn buried his face in a hoof. “Listen, Twilight. You just broke Empyrean’s barrier. From the looks of things you did it by yourself. You’re on a magic drag, which means you aren’t thinking straight. Don’t try to use any magic for the next little while, either, understand?”

Slowly, Twilight nodded, her awkward-feeling head bobbing up and down erratically. She knew what a magic drag was, but she had never experienced one before. They only happened when unicorns ran out of magic. Distantly, she heard what sounded like explosions and ponies shouting.

“Here,” the other unicorn said as he levitated a small metal flask out from under his robe. “This might help.” He unscrewed the cap and handed it to her. Twilight took several gulps of the potion, which burned her throat furiously as it went down. She coughed, her stomach threatening to heave its contents onto the smooth cobbles below.

“What kind of potion is that?” she spluttered between hacks.

“Potion?” The unicorn looked at her with a mixture between confusion and amusement. “That’s whiskey. Good whiskey, I might add. Helps to take the edge off.”

Twilight’s senses were starting to return to her. “Where’s Luna? Rarity?”

“Heh. Your princess is the one who sent me to come get you. I’m sure she’s also got whoever else you just mentioned. The entrance to the loyalist hideout is blocks from here. I can get you there, but you will need to do exactly as I say. There’s heavy fighting going on, and while normally I’d be happy to spend as much time as possible melting some enemy faces, you’re important and stuff. The sooner we get moving, the better. Between us and the hideout is half a city of pissed off ponies and puppets trying to kill each other through gratuitous application of fire and explosions.”

Twilight considered what the knight had said. She lifted each of her legs in turn to test its mobility, then shook her head, hoping to clear her murky thoughts. She blinked hard once, then nodded to the bladecaster. What had he called himself? Nopony impressive.

He took a long pull of his whiskey before tucking it away beneath the black robe. “I hope you’re ready to fight for your life.” He grinned.

Twilight had the feeling the day was just getting started. She sighed. “Alright, Sir Unimpressive. Lead the way.”

-

Chapter 11: The General

Am I your long-lost biological brother? My email is

Thanks goes out to Vimbert for helping to reduce the suck while increasing the awesome.

The General

The General

“Seriously,” Twilight said as she galloped after the orange knight. “What do I call you?”

The unicorn ducked into a nearby bookstore, and Twilight was forced to follow. She had been following him through the streets of Canterlot for only a couple seconds, and they were moving ever closer toward the conflict. Twilight heard a heavy rumbling from somewhere outside, and the heavy shelves lining the shop shook and rattled.

The other unicorn smiled wickedly at Twilight from under his tousled brown mane. “Keep using Sir Unimpressive. I like it.”

“But you have to have a name, don’t you?”

Sir Unimpressive led them past the heavily laden shelves to a door at the back of the bookshop. “Of course I have a name,” he said, his smile never leaving his face. “I just like yours better.”

He lead her into a smaller street, a road that Twilight was not familiar with. Most of the surrounding buildings were intact, and none of the bridge-ways above them had collapsed, so Twilight reasoned that the street had not experienced any serious fighting.

“Now,” the knight stated matter-of-factly. “We stick close to the buildings and avoid drawing the attention of any trueponies. Got it?”

Twilight’s head was still reeling from the magic drag. Meeting up with the inner city loyalists was their ultimate goal, but she was supposed to meet her friends first. She hoped that everypony was okay. She considered for a moment just what exactly she was doing. “Why am I following a stranger in a black robe?”

“Because,” Sir Unimpressive said as he lifted an eyebrow and puffed out his chest. “Of my natural charm and trustworthy appearance.” With that, he took off down the street, hanging close to the storefronts as he galloped away.

Twilight gave him a flat look before taking off after him. She wasn’t a very physically active pony, and the knight set a grueling pace. It wasn’t long before he had to stop and wait up for her.

Twilight’s lungs were burning by the time she caught up with Unimpressive. “Why,” Twilight managed between heavy breaths. “Why are we running? There’s no other ponies around.”

Sir Unimpressive’s eyes widened, and Twilight was suddenly thrown to the ground as he struck her with a blast of telekinesis. She hit the cobblestones hard, grunted, then looked up to see the knight erecting a quarter-dome of red light in front of himself. A cluster of broken wooden beams collided with the shield just after it appeared, and the force of the impact was enough to shatter the hardwood. Twilight cringed as she was showered with splinters and sawdust.

Unimpressive batted two more incoming projectiles out of the air with red bursts of moment-field, then turned to Twilight. His expression was one of focus and rage. “Inside!” he shouted.

Someone was trying to kill her.

Her heart thundered in her chest, and she found herself at a loss for what to do. She clumsily got to her hooves, then looked around dazedly. She was thrown to the ground as Unimpressive caused an incoming hunk of stone to explode in midair. “What are you waiting for?” he shouted. “Run!”

The message finally go through to Twilight, and she turned and ran, pushing herself through the doorway of another shop. Once inside, she collapsed against the wall and began to hyperventilate, trying to figure out what to do next.

She could die. Right here, in the middle of Canterlot, she could be struck by a block of wood or a stone and her skull would cave in. Or a unicorn puppet could punch a hole in her with one of their metal shards, or turn her to ash with a bolt of energy. An earthpony could choke her to death, or crush her into pulp. A pegasus could break her neck or drop her from such a height as to turn her into a smear on the pavement.

It wouldn’t be a noble sacrifice, or a tragic downfall. She would simply die, like Coconut had only minutes ago. Her friends would wonder why she never came to meet them, slowly realizing that she never would. Harmony would die with her, and Titan would win. Celestia would perish as a mortal pony, and Luna would be left with a hopeless war.

It was such a solid, simple, terrifying fact that Twilight couldn’t focus on anything else. She’d put her herself in danger before, but never alone. This was different.

Celestia might have shaped Twilight to be a strategist. She might have ensured that Twilight knew the labyrinth, and that Twilight could organize and mobilize large groups of ponies should she ever need to lead a militia beneath Canterlot, but the Princess had never prepared Twilight for this.

In her mind, Coconut jumped in front of Esteem’s blade shard once again, and her throat exploded into a blossoming fountain of crimson as she fell to the ground and Twilight’s vision blackened.

“What am I doing?” she whispered to herself. She wasn’t a war unicorn. She was a pampered student from Canterlot.

“What are you doing?” Twilight noticed for the first time that Unimpressive was standing over her. “Get up, we need to move.”

She stared up at him dumbly. “What happened to the—”

“I killed them. Now let’s go. We’re barely on the edge of this conflict.”

“You killed them?”

Unimpressive tilted his head and regarded her for a moment. “Would it help if I told you they were puppets?”

Twilight bit her lip. “I... suppose...”

“They were puppets. Now in the interest of not dying, shall we go?”

Twilight got up. “Why is there so much fighting going on?”

Sir Unimpressive snorted. “Is that a serious question?”

Twilight was starting to develop a dislike of the other unicorn. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

He shook his head and began to move to the other side of the shop. “You broke the barrier, kid. Your guys from outer Canterlot are coming in and there are plenty of ponies in inner Canterlot who want to get out. Nopony knows how long the barrier is going to stay down, so everypony’s making a run for it right now. We’re covering them, so that the puppets don’t run the fleeing civilians down in the streets.”

“They’d kill them just for trying to get out of the inner city?”

They had reached the front of the shop, and Unimpressive was looking through each of the windows, pulling blinds down with a hoof and peering outside before moving to the next. “Puppets only ever follow orders. There isn’t a drop of equinity in them.”

“But who would order them to kill civilians?”

The knight gave a humorless laugh. “You’ve never met the General, have you?”

Twilight felt as though her blood had suddenly turned to ice. “Yes,” she said softly. “Yes I have.”

Sir Unimpressive turned and regarded her seriously. “Yeah you look like like somepony who’s met the General right now, alright.” He turned back to the windows. “In the inner city he’s a legend. You can fight the puppets. You can fight the trueponies. If you’re me, you can even fight the Cadet. But if you see the General, you run. Son of a bitch kills for a living. He isn’t natural. There’s only one pony who’s crazy enough to fight him head on.” He looked at Twilight, seeming to ponder something for a moment. “Actually...”

The knight looked through another set of blinds once more, then nodded. “Okay Sparkle, we’re running to the greenery up the street to our left. There’s a little bit of fighting going on, so we’ll have to be quick. I’ll lead and draw their attention, you follow.”

“We’re going out there? Isn’t this where all the fighting is?”

“Yeah, well, we tried the back way and that didn’t work out too well, so I figure if we run through the conflict zone screaming, we’ll fit in and nopony will notice us. Follow my lead.” He walked towards the door.

“Are you crazy? I’m not going out there!”

Unimpressive leaned up against the door, as if testing its weight. Then he turned to Twilight. “Of course you are,” he said with another wicked grin. “You want to know why?”

“Humor me.”

“Because the only pony who stands their ground against the General is named Starlight Sparkle.”

Twilight felt her eyes widen in shock as her mouth dropped open. Before she could say anything in response, the knight had blown the door off its hinges and stepped out into the street.

Twilight marvelled at what Unimpressive considered to be “a little bit” of fighting. Two bridge-ways had collapsed, and puppets occupied the streets in droves. Loyalists were fighting from within and atop the tall stone structures that characterized inner Canterlot.

Several of the red-maned unicorn puppets turned to the knight as the door exploded outward. He pointed with a hoof at another point down the road. “Look,” he cried. “A shameless distraction!”

To the immense discredit of the puppets, most of them looked.

“Follow meeeeeeeee!” He cried as he took off across the urban battlefield.

Twilight stared after him in disbelief. The unicorn was quite clearly insane. Unfortunately, he also knew her mother. Twilight had little choice. She ran after him.

Sir Unimpressive had been right about one thing: the puppets focused exclusively on him. Twilight watched as he deflected several flying shards of steel and then tossed a couple hundred pounds of debris at his adversary, running all the while. He spun to knock a flying stone out of the air, grinning manically as it burst into a cloud of dust.

Twilight ran after the knight as fast as she could, trying to keep her head low. She knew that if any of the unicorns turned their attention to her for even a second, it would be over. She had no way of defending herself, and Unimpressive was too busy blocking the shots that they were aiming at him to pay attention to her. Her hooves beat against the ground and breath came out in rough gasps as she struggled to keep up with the knight.

At last he broke the door off of another structure and dove inside. Twilight followed, stopping to catch her breath in the relative safety of the building as the knight began to bar the open doorway by piling up furniture and debris.

“You know my mother,” she gasped. “She’s one of you.”

“Her and your dad. Upstairs.” He jerked his head toward the building’s ramp.

Twilight followed him up the ramp, her mind brimming with questions. “Are they crazy? They’ll be killed!”

Unimpressive looked at her over his shoulder. “I think that’s the idea.” He reached the top of the ramp and galloped across an intact bridge-way to the upper floors of an adjacent structure. It was a hotel.

Twilight followed, scurrying across the bridge-way as fast as she could manage for fear of being picked off. “What do you mean, ‘that’s the idea?’”

Unimpressive spoke as his hooves hammered down a flight of stairs to the ground level. “Think, kid. What’s the one thing your parents love most in the world? The one thing they couldn’t stand to lose? I’ll give you a hint: they only had one.”

Twilight paused at the top of the stairs. “Their child,” she said quietly. She’d been so caught up with her own problems ever since waking up that she hadn’t even thought about it before.

“Bingo,” said Sir Unimpressive.

An earthpony puppet walked into the room, its hoof-taps muffled by the rich red carpet that adorned the ground floor. It stopped, obviously not expecting to encounter anypony inside, then lunged at the knight. Unimpressive rolled to the side as he tore a wooden support from the stairway’ banister, then plunged the makeshift weapon into the back of the puppet’s skull. He twisted it, and the sickening crunching sound of wood could be heard before the puppet vanished. Twilight cringed.

Unimpressive continued to speak as he lead them through the dark interior of the hotel. “Their daughter didn’t just die, you see. She was held down by the General as he made her into Titan’s monster. He made sure everyone knew. Then, the princess who you saved from her own nightmare? She killed you rather than set you free.”

Twilight shuddered. “So they joined the loyalists.”

“They broke, kid. Plain and simple. Sad and angry doesn’t begin to describe how they felt, but if it did I’d say Midnight took the sad while Starlight took the angry. They hate the General, they hate Luna, they hate Titan, and they hate Celestia.”

They pushed through another door, and Unimpressive had to light his horn so they they could see in the darkened hallway. “Celestia? Why her?”

“Because if you weren’t her star pupil Titan wouldn’t have wanted you in the first place. Because she put you in the line of fire and then didn’t come to rescue you. Because they gave her their eleven year old daughter and Celestia didn’t keep you safe.”

“That isn’t...” Twilight stopped. It was true. All of it was true. “Celestia loved me. It wasn’t her fault.”

“Well you can tell them that when we meet them, can’t you? Being one of the only real knights on our side, I taught them and a couple others to bladecast. Neither of them are very good, but us magical talents are strong enough in a fight to get away with it. Something wrong?”

Twilight looked at him flatly. “I woke up yesterday from a month long sleep. My friends have become an elite strike team working for Princess Luna. My parents joined the rebels because they think I’m dead,” she said. “And things keep trying to kill me. Yes, something is wrong.”

Unimpressive nodded slowly, then offered her the flask of whiskey once more. Twilight shook her head stiffly, and he shrugged before taking a long pull of the flask himself. “Well,” he said, “at least I’m having a good day.”

From the darkness of a nearby doorway, another puppet emerged. It lunged at Twilight, and for once she managed to react in time. The puppet collided with a transparent violet barrier and then slid to the ground as Twilight drew back in shock.

Unimpressive put the puppet down with a burst of red energy. Then he turned to her. “When exactly were you going to tell me you had your magic back?”

Twilight had no idea how she reacted so quickly. “I... didn’t know until now.”

Sir Unimpressive gave her an incredulous look. “Magic drags are supposed to last for hours,” he said. “You shook this one in minutes. No wonder you could break Empyrean’s barrier when all the loyalist’s ponies failed.”

Twilight looked down at her hooves. “It’s... nothing, really.”

“Why are we sneaking through a hotel when you could probably take every puppet here? Let’s go fight.” He turned to go back the way they came.

“Stop!” Twilight called after him. He stopped. “We’re not going to go fight.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t fight.”

Unimpressive gave her a puzzled look. “Huh?”

“I can’t. I don’t know how.” Except she did know how; she had read every word written in The Power to Destroy.

“It’s easy,” said the knight. “You hurt things with magic. Start by throwing objects around and just work your way up from there. You’ll need a battle cry, too. Most loyalists use interchange between ‘Celestia’ and ‘Twilight Sparkle’ although you obviously can’t use the second one. Incoherent screaming works, too. I go for intimidation factor with mine.”

“I’m not going to fight.”

He grunted, then continued walking down the hallway. “So it’s a morals thing, eh? You’ll grow out of that soon enough.”

Twilight doubted that she would “grow out of” her desire to not become a psychopathic monster. “No, I won’t.”

At last they came to a door at the end of the hallway, and the knight turned off the light of his horn. He nodded to the now visible crack of light coming from under the door. “Puppets,” he said quietly as they were thrown into near pitch darkness.

“What do we do?”

“Easiest way to the hideout is forward. We fight.”

“I’m not-”

“Shhh!” he cut her off. In the darkness, she heard the knight sigh. “Listen, Twilight. You’re right about one thing— I’m a knight. So I know something about having ideals. I served indirectly under General Masterstroke, the commander of every soldier in Equestria. He had instructions, you see, from Princess Celestia. Specific instructions for what to do if she was ever overthrown. Namely, overthrown by Nightmare Moon.

“Except when Titan returns, Esteem has a score to settle. He never could handle that Masterstroke was his superior despite the fact that war was his special talent. He blamed the fact that Celestia disliked him— and he was right, she did. So before Masterstroke gets to put his plan into action, Esteem skins him alive and hangs him from the palace gates. Paints the word ‘resist’ behind him with his blood. Our new General has a thing for blood, you see.”

Twilight was suddenly very aware of the fact that she was standing in total darkness with a stranger. “Why is this important?”

“Because who in their right mind is going to try and lead a rebellion after that?”

“You,” she breathed. “You were his second in command.”

“Heh. Not even close, kid, but I was the only willing to step up to the plate once Masterstroke met his end. I teach bladecasting to the few unicorns with the talent to perform and try to keep everypony organized. There’s no pay, but at least now I get to drink on the job. And Celestia’s specific orders were to resist as long as possible, no matter how hopeless things might seem. Because there was still hope. You’re that hope, aren’t you?”

The sixth Element of Harmony closed her eyes. “Yes.”

“Well I have some bad news for you, kid. You’ve got power. And not just unicorn power, which you seem to have in spades. Real power. There’s a reason half my loyalists scream your name when they charge into battle. They’ll be willing to die for you, Sparkle. That’s all on top of whatever you’re supposed to have that’s going to save us. More power, and power and ideals don’t mix.”

“You’re wrong. I don’t have to hurt others to do good.”

The burnt out lamps of the hallway rattled around them as the building shook slightly. There was still heavy fighting going on outside.

“I don’t disagree,” the knight said softly in the darkness. “But how much good is going to go undone from your inaction? How are you going to justify your actions when the enemies you spare your wrath turn around and kill countless ponies? How many innocent lives are going to pay for your selfish ideals?”

“That isn’t fair.”

“This whole world isn’t fair, Sparkle. Not since Titan. You want it to go back to the way it was? You want peace and happiness? You can’t hesitate to do what needs to be done.”

Twilight heard the rustle of his robe and the tinny noise of the lid being unscrewed from his flask of whiskey. He continued speaking moments later. “With me, it’s a couple here and there. I spend lives as little as I can, but don’t think I won’t spend one to save ten. And don’t think I won’t happily kill another pony to stop him from killing me.”

“So, what?” Twilight heard the intensity in her voice. “You’re saying the responsible thing to do is to become a monster?”

“Sometimes we have to do bad things for the greater good, kid. The ponies on the other side of that door might be civilians. They might be on our side. They might just be puppets. But they might also be members of the Royal Army, ponies who willingly signed up with Titan. And if they are, I’m going to kill them.”

“They’re real ponies. They deserve a chance.”

“They’re the enemy. They’re on the side that strikes down civilians as they try to leave the inner city. Regardless of circumstance, they made the choice, knowing full well that ponies like me will try to kill them.”

“So that’s it? They knew what they were getting themselves into?”

“You still aren’t getting it, Twilight. Maybe I can’t afford to do the right thing, but I can still hurt the ponies who do the wrong thing. I can still console myself for all the evils that I have to do in the name of the greater good by taking a little darkness out of the world. They don’t deserve anything more out of me. What they deserve is wrath. And so what if I take a little joy from it? I can’t help the way I feel. I’m doing this because it’s necessary, not because I want to.”

Twilight was appalled. “Righteous judgement? That’s how you justify murder?”

“Not judgement, exactly. Ask me what the name of my blade is, Twilight.”

She heard the flask being tucked beneath his robe once more. Twilight desperately hoped that there weren’t any living ponies on the other side of the door. “What?

There was a hissing noise as the air in front of the knight was filled with a shaft of deep crimson light. The glow from the blade filled the hallway they stood in, and revealed Sir Unimpressive, who stood in front of Twilight, his back to the doorway. The light from the blade reflected off his eyes, giving them a hellish red glow. “Vindictive,” he said harshly.

Then, he turned and blew the door to the next room into bits.

Twilight cringed as she saw that the interior of the room was filled not with puppets, but with ponies. From the way Sir Unimpressive brandished his blade, she judged that they were enemies. She closed her eyes as the vindictive knight let loose his battle cry:

“None of you are safe!”

After Titan’s avatar was slain, there were no puppets left in the square. Luna stood alone at the center of the square, for Rainbow Dash had taken off as soon as the pegasus learned that Rarity and Twilight needed rescuing. Luna had not objected. More than anypony, Rainbow Dash was impossible to give orders to sometimes.

Instead she surveyed her surroundings. Most of the outlying buildings had been heavily damaged, and Titan had left numerous dead ponies to bleed out on the stone ground. There were far more survivors than there were dead, though, and all of them were staring at her, motionless.

It did not unnerve Luna. She had been a princess for over a hundred years before being imprisoned in the moon, and she was no stranger to attention or battlefields. She faced them all, standing tall and doing her best to look regal and imposing— which, considering her century of practice and her status as mistress of the night, was effective. Luna had no idea how the loyalists would react to her presence: after all, they were supposed to hate her. Still, they had exercised good sense and helped her in her fight against the king.

She looked impassively at the faces of the battle-worn loyalists, knowing full well that their loyalty was to her sister’s crown and not hers. They looked back, at the princess who had attempted to cast their world into eternal darkness.

Then they bowed.

Not all of them; some simply stood and continued to stare. But the majority of the fighters, one by one, fell to the ground before her in a gesture of submission and respect. It was such a shocking and strange occurrence that Luna almost forgot what to do next.

“Rise,” she commanded. They rose. Luna saw that none of them had the courage to approach her, so she strode towards the mare who had helped her earlier. “Tell me who is in command,” she said, careful to phrase it so that it wasn’t a question.

“You sent him to rescue Twilight Sparkle.”

Luna frowned slightly. “Tell me where he will take her once he has her.”

“To our hideout, most likely.”

“Take me there. And I need another to rendezvous with my own troops and take them there as well.”

Another one of the loyalists spoke to the mare. “You aren’t seriously thinking about taking her to the hideout, are you?”

The mare turned to him. “Of course I am,” she snapped. “You heard her: Twilight Sparkle is alive. Starlight needs to know.”

“Think about who you’re talking to, Buttercup. That’s Princess Luna.”

“And she saved your life not five minutes ago, you imbecile. Have you even met her before?”

“Well, no...”

“Good, so maybe considering she just saved all our lives, broke the barrier, and brought Twilight Sparkle with her, you could play nice?”

“I, uh...”

“That’s what I thought.” The mare turned to Luna and smiled. “If you’ll follow me, princess...”

-

They took Luna to the loyalist lair, which was, unsurprisingly, located in the labyrinth.

“We don’t know the layout of the entire thing,” Buttercup called back to Luna as she guided them through the maze by the light of her horn. “Nopony does. If the General and the Royal Army knew where we were, they could easily crush us. Thing is, they have no idea how to get here. You ever try mapping a three dimensional maze with something as stupid as a puppet when the maze itself is full of ponies who will gladly attack you?” She laughed.

“Tell me, er...” Luna had a dislike for some of the “softer” names ponies used nowadays. “-Buttercup. How many loyalists are there?”

“Oh, a couple hundred. Not much in a city of seventy five thousand, but it’s enough that we can cause some serious damage when we need to. We’re stretched out over one big section of the maze, with a couple smaller outposts in some of the other sections. We try to map out as much as we can, but we’re not even sure if it’s one big maze that runs under all of Canterlot, or a couple of separated smaller ones. Was it here a thousand years ago, Your Highness?”

Luna realized that Buttercup asking her a question. “Nay, er... Buttercup. Canterlot did not exist then. The capitol was in the Everfree.”

“Huh,” Buttercup remarked. “Makes you wonder who built it, huh? You know, Princess, you have a powerful voice...”

Luna sighed inwardly. She just kept talking. Was this why Luna never got along with the public?

She knew who built the undercity, of course. It had been Celestia, in preparation for Nightmare Moon’s return. While it was true Celestia had engineered Nightmare’s defeat and Luna’s subsequent freedom at the hooves of the Elements of Harmony, Luna’s twin sister was hardly a pony to limit herself to merely one master plan. Luna had little doubt that Celestia had ordered the construction of the underground maze almost a little less than a thousand years ago, then expunged almost all records detailing its layout from pony history.

Then, when the time came, should Nightmare Moon overtake her and rule Equestria, Celestia would still have an agent capable of sowing dissent from the safety of the maze. That unfortunate duty had fallen on the intellectual and reluctant unicorn, Twilight Sparkle, whom Celestia had taught not only the layout of the maze, but the acumen of warfare that she would need to employ it.

It was an incredible feat, Luna reflected, that Celestia had essentially been able to turn her star pupil into a weapon without Twilight ever realizing it. That was the true genius behind her sister’s plan. With over a thousand years of practice, her twin had put decades into the formulation of a backup plan— one that, when it had turned out was unneeded, was never found out by its subjects.

Except now. Titan had returned, and Celestia’s pupil was not just the only mortal pony alive to have read Ponies Make War— of this Luna was almost certain, as Twilight possessed the only two copies— but she had also read The Power to Destroy. Celestia had left her sister with a powerful ally indeed.

Luna also knew that Celestia had loved Twilight Sparkle: had loved her like a mother loves a daughter. What must she have felt, when she knowingly planted the seed of a military commander in the impressionable young filly’s mind? More importantly, what must Twilight Sparkle feel now, upon realizing that Celestia had played her as a piece in the immortal game?

“We’re here!” They had came to a beaten steel door set into the side of the dim hallway. Buttercup used her magic, and the door swung open with an objectionable creak. Luna was trying to make an impression, so she kept her face an expressionless mask as she stepped imperiously through the doorway and into the subterranean headquarters.

She took the lair in. The loyalist headquarters had clearly been in use for quite some time. Like their own base of operations in the labyrinth, they had selected one of the larger, two-story rooms as their command center. The floor was covered by cheap brown carpeting and torches cast a ruddy light from the featureless stone walls. The center of the room was dominated by a heavy round table covered in figures and maps— both printed and hoof-drawn. More centuries-old metal doorways led to what Luna presumed were the other sections of the loyalist hideout. It reasoned to stand that the hideout was accessible— and thus escapable— from many different approaches in the Canterlot undercity.

Luna took all of this in, as well as the half-dozen ponies seated around the table. She noted a dull white mare at the table taking her in with a wide-eyed look of shock. The mare— who looked strangely familiar— stared at the princess for only a couple of seconds before her shock melted away to reveal unbridled fury. With a flash of light, the enraged mare stood before the curious princess, a length of incandescent amethyst fluctuating in the air before her. She swung it at the alicorn.

Luna was liquid. In one smooth motion gifted by the grace of over a century of combat prowess, she ducked under the amaranthine weapon and simultaneously pivoted on her forelegs to strike the mare in the chest with her hind. She spun around to face Buttercup as her blade-wielding assailant was thrown backwards with just the right amount of force to daze her. Luna split her bladecasting robe into a swarm of wickedly amorphous bats, which rushed the other unicorn before turning into a thick black web and pinning her to the wall. She continued to pivot along her front hooves as she hammered her unicorn will into Nadir.

Her blade materialized as she completed her full circle, levelled at the mare she had sent across the room less than a second before. Luna stood facing the room, wearing a set of jet-black pegasine armor— alicorns cast blades out of nothing, and thus did not require bladecasting harnesses. She was almost half a head taller than anypony present, her eyes were glowing, and the air around her crackled as her voluminous mane of ether spun frantically. She had little doubt that she could destroy every pony present.

That was not her her goal. She had realized who her assailant had been, and why she had been attacked. These loyalists did not truly wish to kill her, they were merely assaulting her for crimes they falsely believed she had committed. Luna could unleash death and destruction in spades, true— but again, she had another goal in mind.

She had thought about it for quite awhile. It was a most perturbing predicament: how would she get the loyalists to trust her? How would she bend the cell of rebellious ponies to her will, so as to use them as resource in aiding the Elements of Harmony? The answer had come to her upon examining the tiny figurine of Celestia that she kept close to her at all times. Luna might not have Celestia’s patience or her depth of planning, but she was still over a century old. Of late, she had not gotten many chances to use her immortal wisdom and intellect.

Luna was just another piece, and the time had come for her to play her part. Or was it make her move? Yes; actors played parts, pieces made moves. And while Luna was certainly about to do some acting, there was a reason it was called the immortal game and not the immortal play.

Between the princess and Twilight’s mother stood a cobalt stallion, wielding a blade of similar chroma.

“Treachery, Sparkle?” Luna hissed the accusation as her eyes began to glow. “Didst thou truly think a god so foolish?”

From her place on the floor, Twilight’s mother propped herself up on her forelegs. Her husband spoke. “You know who we are?”

Luna glowered at the couple with as much menace as she could, briefly considering turning the water vapor around her into frost. Nopony spoke, and she drew the moment of silence out as long as she could, ensuring that every one of the loyalist commanders got a good look at their warrior goddess.

The moment lingered, but before it could pass, Applejack burst through one of the solid metal doors that dotted the walls. She was in her earthpony warplate, and the barding clanged and clacked loudly as the mare took two steps into the room, then froze at the sight of Princess Luna and the loyalists. Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, and Rarity filled the room behind her, along with the disgruntled stallion who had been sent to collect them. Rarity’s coat was covered in matted blood.

Luna watched Applejack comprehend the scene before her. “What in tarnation?”

Rarity’s blade was assembled in a heartbeat, and Pinkie Pie crossed her forelegs behind her back, then brought them forward with a click, armed with two of her blades. Rainbow Dash was standing next to princess Luna as though she had been there the whole time, wings extended and one hoof off the ground. Fluttershy let out a soft, “Oh my.”

By now the other ponies that had been seated around the table had stood, but it was clear that they were woefully outclassed. Even Twilight’s mother, a magical talent, had come at Luna in the most amateurish way imaginable, which led the princess to suspect that the mare knew next to nothing about bladecasting.

Luna needed to establish authority over the newcomers. “Say no words,” she ordered simply, using her outdoor voice. Then, she turned to the group of loyalists who were not Twilight’s parents. “Tell me who is in charge here.” The way she spoke the words made it abundantly clear that it was in no way, shape, or form a request.

“Don’t answer her!” Twilight’s mother cried as she got to her hooves and recast her blade. “That monster killed my daughter.”

At once, all of Twilight’s friends opened their mouths to speak. “Say no words!” Luna said forcefully. Even Rainbow Dash obeyed.

Luna turned back to the loyalists, focusing on an aged pegasus who looked scared half to death of her. “Name thine commander!” she barked.

The pegasus staggered backward, then spoke meekly as he failed to meet her eyes. “W-w-we have no commander, Princess.”

“What of General Masterstroke?”

“D-d-dead, Princess.”

“Who replaced him?”

“Nopony,” he said meekly. “We come to decisions jointly. There is no general anymore.”

The stallion who had brought the Element Bearers spoke, despite being pinned to wall by five of Vorpal’s diamonds. “Don’t answer her questions, Noble. That’s Princess Luna.”

From behind her, Luna heard Buttercup’s muffled protests. She allowed the thick strands of arachnoid darkness to sink back to the floor and flow up and around her hooves to reform into her bladecasting robe.

Buttercup spluttered and gasped. “She saved our lives. Starlight attacked her.”

Starlight. Twilight’s mother’s name was Starlight.

“Of course I attacked her!She killed my daughter!”

Luna dipped into her unicorn magic and slammed the door behind her, cutting off Buttercup mid-protest. None of the loyalists seemed to notice.

“The Princess obviously does not come in peace!” protested an earthpony.

“Starlight attacked first!”

“With good reason! She killed Twilight Sparkle!”

“Twilight Sparkle was past saving! I’m sorry, Midnight, but it had to be said—”

“If you were a father—”

“Why don’t we let the Princess talk?”

“Maybe if she’d put that blade away—”

Luna watched them argue impassively, thankful that her team had the sense to say nothing and go along with her plan, despite not knowing what she was up to. The loyalists argued in circles, shouting at each other and occasionally shooting Luna or one of her ponies a nervous look. It was clear that they were not going to come to a conclusion. That they were not going to trust Princess Luna.

Luna watched as one of Rainbow Dash’s ears twitched. She shot a glance at Pinkie Pie, whose attention seemed to also have been caught by something else. The princess had been looking for these signs. She tuned in her own hearing, her senses slightly enhanced by her pegasus magic, to hear a voice echoing from outside the chamber. She prepared to deliver her masterstroke.

“You never told me!” the familiar voice accused faintly. “You never, not even once, thought to maybe mention that we were going to the labyrinth? I know the entire thing by heart. We could have bypassed the fighting entirely!”

By now, several of the arguing ponies had picked up on the approaching voices and fallen silent. Luna opened the door behind her to let Buttercup back in.

A vaguely familiar, slightly slurred voice answered Twilight. “You didn’t even bring it up. You could have brought it up, you know. Something like ‘I can go anywhere I please while avoiding all danger, want to do that instead?’ And I would’ve been like ‘Yeah, let’s do that. That sounds good.’”

“I didn’t bring it up? What did you expect? ‘Good afternoon, my name is Twilight Sparkle, and I can circumnavigate the Canterlot undercity labyrinth.’ That’s how I greet all strangers.”

At the sound of Twilight speaking her own name, everypony in the room feel deathly silent. Fittingly, Starlight and her husband looked like they were hearing a ghost.

Her team parted, and Twilight entered the room with the bladecaster Luna had sent after her earlier. She took in Luna, who had Nadir raised, Rarity, who had somepony pinned to the wall, and her other friends in combat stances. She saw the group of loyalists around the table, who had ceased arguing to shamelessly and openly stare at her. Most of all, she saw her parents.

Luna made her play.

“Beloved subjects,” her voice smashed the silence like a sledgehammer shattering an ice sculpture. She used the word “beloved” the way Terra might say “mercy”. “I deliver to thee the last hope of our species, a mare of considerable renown. You may have heard of her.”

Twilight spoke softly. “Mom?”

This was Luna’s game. She might be able to win the loyalty of a few ponies on the battlefield, but the simple truth was that ponykind was never going to unite under her.

“The twice-proved saviour of ponykind and all of Equestria.”

“Dad?”

Luna needed a unified, cohesive rebel faction, but that wasn’t going to happen by her alone. She could continue to be what they expected of her— a warrior goddess, a force of fear, an uncompromising dictator who had once tried to plunge the world into eternal night. But now, they would have the assurance that she was on their side. What was more bolstering than setting the demon you feared on your enemies?

“Prized pupil of my sister, her Royal Highness Princess Celesta. Also the most powerful unicorn in the world.”

Each of Twilight’s parents had tears running down their face. Her father found words first. “Twilight?”

They would unite, but not under Luna. Under the known quantity, under the closest thing they had to Princess Celestia, their beloved ruler. Under a pony whose honor was completely free of the ugly stains that marred Luna’s. Most importantly, under a pony who happened to be under Luna’s influence.

“Master strategist, accomplished leader. The only pony alive who can navigate the Canterlot labyrinth. The newly appointed leader of my own militia. Your daughter, delivered to you, back from the dead.”

Twilight was hugging her parents, her back to the Princess. Luna caught Starlight’s eyes, and the mother gave Luna a look of gratitude so deep and profound that Luna knew she would never be able to fully appreciate it— for the Princess was not a mother herself. Luna turned to the table of loyalists. It was all about posturing.

“General Twilight Sparkle.”

“I didn’t tell you,” Terra’s conversational tone rang throughout the room as she went about her task. “Somepony broke one of Titan’s magic bubbles. Just shattered it, really. I told you about the barriers, right?”

Celestia, occupied, did not respond to the question.

“In any case, I imagine that your daddy is none too pleased. I’m supposed to find out how Luna was able to undo his magic. He’s under the impression that nopony but you could do such a thing. What else were you supposed to tell me?” Terra brought a hoof to her chin, but whether she was contemplating the table before her or her own question Celestia couldn’t know.

“Ah!” she said at last, making a selection. “You’re supposed to tell me how you beat Nightmare Moon and Discord! If Titan really cared, he could just tear the information out of your mind, of course. But he doesn’t like making the trip out here. Remember that time I hit an artery?”

Terra had gotten too sloppy one day, and Celestia had thought she was going to die. Instead, her mother returned with her father in tow not ten minutes later. Titan had closed the wound with magic as though the feat weren’t blatantly impossible, scolded his wife, and left.

“In any case,” Terra carried on, “it’s obvious you’re just here to keep me occupied. He doesn’t actually care about information, being undefeatable and all.”

That was her father’s mistake. How could an alicorn of three thousand years be so hopelessly arrogant as to think himself invincible? Titan was a greater spellcaster than even Celestia had been; the alicorn wove magic with the meticulous care and patience of a master craftspony. Still, if there was a pony capable of undoing his work, it would have to be Twilight Sparkle. Not even Luna could match the sheer force of talent possessed by the Element of Magic.

It meant that Twilight was alive; there could be no other explanation. If Twilight was alive, then there was hope. Not just a distant hope, either— a real, immediate hope, something that ponykind could reach out and touch. They would not have to suffer for decades under Titan’s reign like they had with Discord.

Is also meant that Twilight was going to learn just what lengths Celestia had gone to in order to protect her kingdom. It meant that Twilight would learn that her beloved mentor, who had treated her like a daughter, had played her as a piece in the immortal game since she was eleven years old. Twilight would despise her.

Finally, it meant that Celestia could no longer afford to be patient.

Her head lolled from one shoulder to another. “You once told me,” she managed weakly, “that alicorns came in pairs.”

Terra snorted in derision. “We are not going to talk about this, Sunshine.”

Celestia persisted nonetheless. “Don’t call me Sunshine,” she grunted. “So what happened? Why are you so much younger than your husband?”

Terra regarded Celestia coolly as she slapped her daughter across the face with telekinesis. “You are not to ever ask me questions, Celestia. This you know.”

Celestia’s looked back up at her mother, her face numb. A dull ache throbbed in her cheekbones, but they weren’t broken. “Did he lock you under the world for a couple millenia just like your daughters?”

Another slap. “Silence!”

The impotent mare coughed. “That happens to you a lot, huh?”

One of Terra’s metal implements came to hover just under Celestia’s collar. There was a sound similar to a pony biting into an apple, followed by the former princess’s scream. Celestia carried on. “You go on about how beautiful you are. About how everypony loved you. Well you never sang to me, Terra. And I’m your daughter.”

With a crash, Terra violently upended the stone table and brought every single one of her tools to hover before the broken princess.

“You aren’t his wife; you’re his bruiser. You aren’t a queen; you’re a thug. That’s what he sees in you. Not beauty or value. Muscle. Everypony in the world despises you— even your own daughters.”

Real rage boiled behind Terra’s eyes as she snapped Celestia’s jaw shut. “You don’t want to say what you’re about to say, Sunshine.”

Her grip loosened, and Celestia managed to convincingly mimic a smile as she looked into her mother’s eyes. “He doesn’t love you,” she said triumphantly

A baleful shriek tore its way out of Terra’s mouth as the queen of the world sent every implement soaring towards Celestia in an assault that would surely kill her.

This was the moment; the time when Celestia put her entire face behind the act of lying. She exhaled slightly, parted her lips, widened her eyes, and tilted the edges of her mouth upward into something that was barely a smile. She looked at the swarm of blades coming towards her with a hope for release, and Terra saw her expression.

The Queen just barely stopped her tools before they turned Celestia into a pony pincushion. “You,” she breathed, “You’re trying to get me to kill you.”

Celestia hung her head.

“You want to die. You’ve probably been preparing the words you need to send me over the edge now for weeks.” Suddenly Terra was beside Celestia, her muzzle in the fallen monarch’s ear. “Clever girl.”

The Queen turned away and began to reorganize the tools of her trade. “Sadly...” She chuckled softly. “Not clever enough.”

It was hours later that Terra left to perform her duties. Celestia could not have given the exact time, as she no longer always knew the exact position of the sun. She had never developed the ability to tell time without it, as she had reasoned she would never have the need.

Terra had been extremely foolish, her newly spliced first mind thought well after she had gone. One would think that a being of almost a thousand years could maintain their composure, but then Celestia had also slowly worked out just what to say. Who would have thought that Terra’s sense of self-worth consisted almost entirely of the fact that she was loved? Loved, no less, by the very King she had betrayed. Perhaps her betrayal had really been an attempt to prove herself to her older husband. The thought was worth investigating later.

Her second mind marvelled at the fact that Terra had believed she wanted to kill herself. If Celestia had truly wanted to die, she would have found a much more efficient way of accomplishing the task. Terra believed she had seen through their play, but in reality it had simply hidden a much greater set of moves. Such was Celestia’s prerogative.

No, they did not want to kill themselves. Their goals were far more ambitious. Terra believed her powerless, but the Queen knew very little when it came to power.

Celestia’s third mind took the body— which was in very poor condition— and shifted the hidden blade so that it pressed against her hoof. That was what they had accomplished. First, they played Terra’s rage, asserting that she was unloved, and then they played her pride— Terra was overjoyed at having thwarted Celestia’s attempted suicide. Rage and pride were two things that Terra had in spades, and Celestia had blinded her with them. Terra had not noticed that she was short one of her precious little implements.

It was a dull thing, and it took Celestia some time to cut through the straps that bound them to the wall. They fell to the floor, then stood.

They could stand. That had been their biggest worry, that with their body in the state it was in, they wouldn’t be able to function. Certainly, her third mind felt intense pain, but after a quick diagnostic Celestia determined that they were suffering from nothing crippling.

They awkwardly limped over to Terra’s upturned table and examined their options for weaponry. Her second mind flattened the strong emotional response she experienced upon looking at the tools— they needed to think objectively. She had no clue when Terra was going to return— her mother was extremely unpredictable.

Celestia was taking several enormous risks by attempting the escape with the limited information they possessed. Even if Terra did not return, they still had no idea where they were, or if there were other guards around. But if Twilight Sparkle was alive, Celestia was not going to wait for a perfect opportunity. Twilight would need them, so they would take the risk.

They would always take that risk.

They agreed upon a long blade meant for carving that curved wickedly to a needle point, and the third Celestia flipped it into her mouth. Their chamber had no doorway, so it was easy for Celestia to check around the corner with the reflection in the blade. They found one earthpony puppet in a stone hallway to her left, and that was it.

Celestia’s first mind pondered for a moment why Terra would have only a single earthpony to guard her— the queen could conjure the puppets at will. It seemed much too easy.

Still, they had no other direction to travel but forward, and Terra was well known for her arrogance. The third mind stumbled into the hallway, brandishing the blade between their teeth.

The earthpony saw them, took them in, and charged. They expected this.

Celestia was in no physical condition to fight an earthpony head on, so they simply observed. They calculated every one of the earthpony’s possible angles of approach, and the way that the third mind would counter each of them so as to quickly slay the minion. They eventually selected a course of action that left no room for failure.

The third mind simply spun and fell at the puppet as it neared. The puppet charged, but Celestia took the brunt of the blow with a shoulder, and the puppet pushed its own neck onto the blade she held in her mouth. As they crashed to the floor, the Princess worked the blade so as to ensure a kill, and the puppet dispersed. Celestia unsteadily got back onto her feet and rearmed herself. Then they proceeded down the hall.

Her first and second minds were immediately stricken by a sense of familiarity before that had made it halfway. It didn’t take them long to determine what its source was: they had used to live here. This was the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters in the Everfree Forest. Their escape had just gotten much, much easier.

The strain of maintaining a triple consciousness was weighing on the malnourished princess, so they merged back into a whole. Celestia was glad that Terra had not thought to deprive her of sleep: her mental capacities would have been crippled.

She checked around the corner to find another earthpony guard, this one with its back to her. It was simple matter of sneaking up behind it and driving her blade into one of the six kill points located on the back of a pony’s skull. Terra had taught her well. Celestia remembered the layout of the castle, and she knew exactly where she needed to go. She half-walked, half-limped down a spiral staircase as slowly as she could, keeping an eye out for more puppets.

She would not go directly to Ponyville. The journey was not a long one, but it would take her long enough that Terra would have returned before she made it. The Queen would undoubtedly scour the forest between Ponyville and the ruined castle. Instead, Celestia would travel inward, toward the Dark Heart of the Forest. She wouldn’t actually approach the Heart; that would be suicide. Celestia intended to loop back around to Canterlot. She knew enough to make the denizens of the Everfree leave her alone, and she could forage enough to survive with.

First she needed to get clear of the broken-down palace. Terra could have had puppets in the air above the ruined palace, so Celestia slowly made her way downward toward the moat. It was little more than a glorified ditch, now, but it was her best chance of getting out without being spotted from the air. She momentarily split her mind once more to deal with the pain that came from rolling around in the dirt whilst covered in burns, then crept out along the ditch, hoping that she would go unsighted thanks to her camouflage.

Her hope was in vain. Less than twenty meters from the edge of the forest, she was brought face-first to the ground by a pegasus puppet.

Her heart thundered in her chest as she squirmed weakly under the brutish minion. It stood atop her with a hoof on the back of her neck, pressing her face to the dirt. It pinned all but one foreleg with its other limbs. In her weakened state, Celestia was powerless against the puppet.

No, she thought forcefully. She would not allow herself to be captured so close to freedom.

She thought about her subjects, who had been victims to Titan’s reign for over a month. All of them had been forced into her father’s nightmarish idea of a world, thrust into a place where the only way of life was war and violence. The thought made her angry. She thought about the upturned stone table back in the palace, and the plethora of gleaming instruments of torment scattered across the floor. She thought about Terra, smiling her beautiful smile as she chose which of them to use. The thought made her terrified. She thought about Twilight, a young mare who had once again become responsible for the fate of their world, and who had suffered a fate worse than death simply because she had been close to Celestia. The thought made her ashamed.

Celestia did not scream, because she didn’t want to attract attention. She simply lashed out with her free foreleg, as hard as her withered and broken body would allow her to, and broke the knee digging into the back of her neck. She knew enough to hit the puppet exactly where she was supposed to.

To her surprise, it let out a grunt of pain.

Celestia turned to see not a puppet, but a chestnut-coated pegasus of perhaps thirty years with a yellow mane. Her attacker was a living, breathing pony. One of the subjects she had sworn to protect. Except she wasn’t his ruler anymore.

Titan was.

She had lost her knife, but it was a poor substitute for Zenith anyway. The pegasus recoiled exactly as she had determined he would, and Celestia threw her shoulder back and pulled her legs in with just the right amount of force to free her from its grasp. She struck out with one hoof as he regained his balance, hitting him just above the hinge of his jaw.

His mouth instantly sprang open, and Celestia stuffed her other foreleg down his maw. A look of shock crossed the pegasus’s face, and Celestia pulled herself close to him, bit onto his mane, and pressed her free foreleg over his nostrils.

She would not go back to endless taunting and torture. She would not be forced to remain idle while her people suffered under her father’s reign any longer. She would not be powerless. Celestia was a player in the immortal game, and this world would be a paradise for ponykind.

The pegasus tried to make some noise to warn other guards, but Celestia knew exactly what she was doing. She was physically weaker than he, but she had pinned his head under the weight of her entire body. He tried to pry her forelegs away, and when that failed, he beat at her and flapped his wings uselessly. He bit down, but Celestia did not relent. What was this minuscule iota of pain when measured against the totality of her experiences?

What was one pony life measured against the fate of their entire species?

“Not... powerless,” she uttered as her victim stopped moving. “Never... powerless.” Terra had been clever to enlist truepony guards; it had almost worked, had almost stopped her.

Celestia dragged the corpse into the Everfree Forest and hid it. She could not have the dead pegasus mark her passage. Then, she set off through the brush toward the Dark Heart of the Everfree Forest, refusing to stop for the rest that her body cried out for.

She wanted to cry with joy at having finally escaped. She wanted to break down and weep for the misguided pony she had slain. She wanted her legs to stop hurting, and food to eat other than the bitter foliage of the Everfree. She wanted the sun. She wanted to be a god again.

Almost two hours later, Celestia was curled up in a poorly made shelter, absent-mindedly rubbing a foreleg despite the fact that it had been clean for over an hour. That was when lightning split the sky, when the earth shook, and storm clouds coalesced to release a torrential downpour of rain. It all happened within seconds. Celestia considered her mother’s rage.

Terra had plenty of rage. Celestia could have said anything to get her mother to try to kill her. What she had chosen, however, were the words “he doesn’t love you”. Without Celestia to entertain her, Terra would be spending an awful lot of time with her husband. Except now Terra would fixate on Celestia’s words. She would wonder just what exactly made her Titan’s wife. She would begin to resent him.

Celestia was getting soaked, but it was warm enough out that she didn’t mind. The rain was almost soothing where it didn’t strike her burns. Alone in the Everfree Forest, the fallen princess felt a moment of peace for the first time in a month as she slid Terra and herself back onto the board of the immortal game.

Celestia was back.

-

Chapter 12: Entirely Predictable

Need to contact me for any reason? AestheticBrony@gmail.com

Thanks goes out to Vimbert: My favorite magical pony.

Entirely Predictable

Entirely Predictable

Esteem was not pleased.

He had slain half a dozen more loyalists on his way through the streets of inner Canterlot before he passed through Empyrean’s second barrier and found himself at the palace. He was covered in blood, though none of it was his own save for the tiny bead that had gathered on his lower lip where he had bit himself with a sharpened tooth. He did not cast a spell to clean himself off and he did not sheathe Carsomyr. The general was in a dark mood, and his appearance would deter any pampered aristocrats from approaching him with the intent of currying his favor.

Rarity had escaped him. Worse, she had insulted him. The insolent little girl still hated him for the way he treated her in childhood, despite the fact that it was the only reason she was alive. Clearly, there were still lessons that she needed to be taught.

His daughter had been rescued by the one called Rainbow Dash. How the other mare had managed such perfect timing was perplexing—Esteem himself couldn’t use mind magic, only war spells. How Rarity was able to share thoughts with another was a mystery. Rarity’s escape had come at the hoof of one of her friends, upon whom she had clearly grown too reliant. Dependencies were a weakness. This was a lesson the girl would need to have taught to her, and Esteem knew the perfect way to teach it. All of her friends would die.

“Sir!” Esteem did not stop his brisk strides as the Cadet called out to him. “Empyrean-”

“I know he does,” Esteem snapped back. “I will be with him directly.”

The Cadet slowed as he approached the general. “Is something wrong, sir?”

Esteem clicked his two sharpened teeth in irritation. “Take the field, Cadet.”

“Yes, sir!” The pale green unicorn gave a sharp salute before scurrying away from the fuming officer. Esteem hammered his way up a flight of stairs and practically blew a door off its hinges with telekinesis.

He was not ugly. Not inside or out. Not naked or robed, not pristine and certainly not when he was drenched in the blood of his fallen enemies. He was beautiful on the inside, too. His spiritual aesthetic was one that was elegant in its simplicity— every hindering vice or unseemly virtue cut away to leave a pony without weaknesses, without cumbersome attachments. Even the pride that was product to his icy rage was normally a driving force for him, a powerful motivator. Rarity had been disgusted by his love of death and conflict. What could his daughter possibly know about beauty when she called ambition and superiority ugly? What, to her, was so beautiful about compassion and reliance?

Esteem was gentler with the doors leading into the Court of the Sun, but they still made a loud clatter as they banged open and struck the walls. Empyrean rested across the room on a large pile of red cushions. Between him and Esteem was almost every noble currently housed at the palace. No doubt they had flocked to their god-prince in what they perceived as a time of crisis.

“Get out.” The general was stepping down into the court before he had their attention. The various nobles froze at his command, shocked by his appearance. Most of them looked to their prince, then back to Esteem, clearly indecisive.

Esteem helped them to decide. He split Carsomyr and shot its fourteen shards into the pillars lining the room, then ripped them out of the stone to reform the blade in front of him. “Out!” he screamed at the useless flock. “Before I carpet this room in your entrails!”

They left.

In the midst of the fleeing nobles—many of whom were stepping over one another to escape the court as quickly as possible—Esteem locked eyes with the prince. Empyrean looked furious, but where Esteem’s anger was born from pride, the general reasoned that Empyrean’s stemmed from fear. The Prince was a child and a coward.

“General,” the Prince cried accusingly, “the barrier is down!”

“It is,” Esteem said coolly.

Empyrean’s eyes were darting around frantically as he stood. “Why are you covered in blood?”

“Because,” the general said as if he explaining something simple to a toddler. “I have recently found myself proximate to a great deal of the fluid.”

“Do not mock me, unicorn! Why is the barrier down?”

Esteem met the Prince’s livid orange eyes. “I imagine, alicorn, that Twilight Sparkle had something to do with it. The unicorn is more capable than we had thought.”

“Impossible! My father said his spell was unbreakable!”

“Indeed he did,” Esteem breathed. “In that case I suppose we are mistaken and the barrier must still be intact. I shall carry on with my typical duties until—”

Empyrean stomped a hoof, and cracks ran outward along the marble floor where it struck. “This is no time for joking, general! I demand that you take this situation seriously!”

With a burst of magic, Esteem cast a spell to dry himself off, and every drop of blood in his robe and on his coat was flung away to pattern the nearby floors and pillars. “Then give me an order!” he bellowed. “Tell me to do something instead of summoning me to your little castle to ask me why I am covered in blood! I am covered in blood because I have spent the morning killing. What kind of asinine question is ‘Why are you covered in blood?’ What kind of fool are you to think that I need to be told the barrier is down? I know the barrier is down. I watched the barrier go down, by the hoof of Twilight Sparkle herself.”

Empyrean looked totally taken aback. Nopony spoke to the Prince that way other than his father. Esteem was past caring.

“Did you want me here so that I could recommend a course of action? Or perhaps you would like to give me a command for once? I daresay I can already guess what you will order me to do,” Esteem sneered. “You’ll want me to call everything I have back to the palace to protect you, leaving the city to descend into turmoil. Because despite the fact that you are the most powerful being in the world save for King Titan himself, you are afraid.”

The temperature in the room rose drastically as Empyrean stared at the General, aghast. He opened his mouth to speak, but only managed to splutter out something incoherent. Esteem wondered if maybe he had gone too far—he had said himself that Empyrean was second only to the King in terms of raw power. Though the Prince might have no combat experience whatsoever, he could likely still destroy Esteem with only a thought.

Esteem had readied a blitz in preparation to escape whatever attack Empyrean would throw at him when the unexpected happened. The Prince began to cry. The general watched in disgust as Empyrean sat on the floor and hid his face in hooves, sobbing. “I’m t-trying,” he whined. “I j-j-just want t-to be a good ruler.” The oversized pony wiped his eyes. “I-I-I just want to be like, like—”

“Me.”

Esteem knew who had spoken before he turned toward the King. Even in his avatar, Titan’s voice cut into the mind like a blade.

“An ambitious goal, if an unrealistic one.” The King had seized an earthpony, and was stepping slowly into the court. He turned to Esteem, and the general felt a fear that he had never known upon the battlefield. He had disrespected a god. Titan could kill him.

“Does it please you, Esteem? Bullying my infant son?”

Esteem remembered his courtesies too late, and dropped into a low bow.

Titan ignored him, instead facing Empyrean. He locked eyes with his son, and Empyrean’s face slowly slackened into an expressionless gaze. The younger god wordlessly left the court as Titan turned to speak once again to the general.

“Make no mistake,” Titan continued. “That is what he is. I matured him as much as I could, but his sensibilities are still those of a twelve-year-old.”

Esteem didn’t know if he was supposed to speak in his own defense or not. Somehow, he doubted it would help.

“I imagine your discontent stems from your recent reunion with your daughter. I understand you would often beat Rarity before my own daughter took her from you.” Esteem opened his mouth to speak, but could not come up with any words. How did Titan know about Rarity?

“Do not fear, Esteem. I am not so foolish as to destroy a valuable asset, and I do not feel rage. You are in no danger.”

Titan had known about Esteem’s plans for Rarity all along. This was not good at all. Esteem managed to speak. “Why did you—”

Titan silenced him with a raised hoof. “Allow me to educate you,” he said.

“I make it a habit to ensure that all ponies believe they have me fooled, or otherwise believe that they know something I do not. It makes the behaviour of both my enemies and my underlings entirely predictable. That your daughter is in this city and that you intend to convert her to the natural order has been known to me for some time. That you intended to do so without my knowledge or consent has also been known to me.

“This duplicity on your part was expected and accounted for. It is a small thing, and your daughter’s presence only serves to drive you toward my own ends. I would rather a general with his own ambitions and motives than a simpering lapdog. I can reward ambitions and direct motives better than any other pony alive, and so your loyalty is guaranteed.”

Esteem wasn’t sure if he liked being spoken of as a puppet, but he was relieved at being alive. Besides, he thought, he was essentially another one of Titan’s tools.

“Celestia believes that she can play me in the immortal game. She believes that the actions of her underlings will bring her closer to victory, and ultimately to her renewed dominion over the entire world. She is mistaken. While I am speaking with you now I am also at the Dark Heart of the Everfree Forest, peeling away the enchantments she has used to alter this world. Simultaneously, I am subduing the oldest and most powerful dragon that exists. I do not say these things as boasts. It is very difficult for a being such as myself to boast. Any self-aggrandizement I commit falls within the bounds of truth. I am grand.

“I played the immortal game before Celestia’s creation, against foes that she would look upon with envy and awe. I earned this world and created this species, bought and paid for both with the blood of my kind and the the scars of a conflict so vast and terrible it lasted over a millennium. Only one of my foes remains, and even he fled this world rather than face me, then returned to scavenge my creation in my absence by wreaking havoc upon the two of my daughters who remained.

“I won the immortal game, general. No matter how many ponies resist, no matter how many of my underlings die, this fact cannot be changed. The positions of the pieces matter not, for I own the very board. No outcome exists that precludes my restoration of the natural order. Every time ponykind resists, they merely increase the magnitude of the eventual retribution.

“Hope that you succeed in your next task, Esteem, because if you fail, there will be no insulation between ponykind and their gods. Empyrean would be harsh. He does not love them the way Celestia did. Terra would be cruel. She enjoys causing her children to suffer. But I...” Titan closed his eyes and tilted his head skyward. “I brought their god to her knees in less than two minutes. I would not punish their transgressions so much as I would wipe disobedience from your species altogether.”

Esteem stood frozen, still wearing his bladecasting robe with Carsomyr drawn. Titan’s words were... unsettling, to say the least. Esteem wanted a world at war, not an ash-filled wasteland or an inherently docile race. Still, he had gotten off easy considering he had lied to his god-King and reduced the Prince to tears.

“Your Majesty,” he breathed. “What is my next task?”

“You will continue whatever projects you would normally undertake for the next two weeks and three days.”

“And then?”

“You made me a general.”

“I made thee the general, Twilight Sparkle. General of the Armies. Thou now leadest every unicorn, pegasus, and earthpony willing to fight.”

Luna stood with Twilight atop a building close to their main undercity entrance. Luna had requested to speak with the new general privately, and the inner city loyalists had not objected. Twilight’s parents had, but Twilight had assured them it would be okay.

Once Twilight had appeared, the loyalists had been set at ease. The loyalists were now hers, and with Twilight at their head, city ponies would flock to the cause. Luna had gotten a step closer to rescuing Celestia.

“I don’t know how to lead ponies into battle! I’m a student from Ponyville!”

“Where thou didst often coordinate large-scale events and lead the townsponies with great success.”

“This is completely different!”

“It is. As the only living pony other than Celestia or I who hath read Ponies Make War, thou art the only pony capable.”

“If you’ve read Ponies Make War, why don’t you do it?!”

“Because they loathe me, Twilight Sparkle. I am the shadow of evil and a sad reminder of the Princess they have lost.”

Twilight drew back, biting her lip. “I’m sorry, Princess. Maybe they’ll warm up to you now that they know you saved me.”

“Nay, Twilight Sparkle. They love thee like they did Celestia. Like a princess. Like a god.”

“I’m sorry Princess, but I can’t handle this.” Twilight sat down on the rooftop. “All of this— my parents, my friends, the fighting—it’s just too much. I can’t become the pony you need me to be.”

“And why not?” Luna was losing patience with the unicorn. Celestia had spent hours extolling Twilight’s capabilities. Now the young mare was turning her back on her mentor. “I am not asking thee to fight, Twilight Sparkle. I am asking thee to lead.”

“I don’t think I can be responsible for the lives of so many ponies, Princess.”

“Thou art the Element of Magic. Thou art responsible for the life of every pony, Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight buried her face in a hoof. “You don’t understand,” she said softly.

Luna had heard enough. She dropped the royal Canterlot voice. “Of course I understand, Twilight Sparkle. Or did you forget that you freed me from Nightmare Moon?”

Twilight looked up, clearly surprised at Luna’s change in tone.

“Before Celestia banished her, she killed more ponies than you have met in your entire life. But her crimes were nothing compared to the ones that I have committed myself. You think that a week of Nihilus and a month of sleep compares to a war as Nightmare Moon and a thousand-year banishment?”

Twilight still hadn’t gotten over her initial shock. “Your voice,” she managed.

“I’ve been able to speak the typical Canterlot dialect for three weeks. My voice is just another tool I use to make myself impossible to relate to. I de-equinize myself because if others thought me capable of feeling emotions they might actually think I have flaws like everypony else. You think that after a life spent killing I want to be a monster? Equestria needs me to be a monster, so I do everything I can to keep up the appearance. I’m better at this than I ever was at being a princess.”

“I, I didn’t—”

“You are a far better pony than I, which means that Nihilus was a far worse parasite than Nightmare Moon. I know what it is like to feel the thoughts of the parasite for so long. Sometimes you forget that it’s some other pony thinking them. It starts to change you.”

Slowly, Twilight nodded.

“You don’t want to be Nihilus Nix Naught, so you’re too afraid to use your power to destroy. I am giving you a chance to make a difference without fighting. You just have to put on a uniform and give orders while keeping everypony organized. I hear it’s something you’re good at. I will give orders should conflict arise.”

Twilight looked up at the Princess. “I don’t—” she began softly. Luna frowned. “I don’t want a uniform,” Twilight finished.

“Very well, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said, slipping back into her usual voice. “I expect that thine friends will help thee to find the strength to be a general.”

Twilight rubbed her temple with a hoof. “What makes you think that?”

“Because,” Luna said levelly, “they did so for me.”

Luna turned away from the unicorn and spread her wings to leave, but Twilight called out after her. “Princess?” Luna looked back, and for a moment Twilight appeared unsure as to whether or not she should continue. “I can think two things at once,” she said finally.

Luna tilted her head. “As in polycasting?”

Twilight shook her head. “As in playing twenty questions with myself.”

“Ah.”

“You know what this is? I’m not crazy?”

Luna sat across from Twilight. “The only other ponies I know of who are or were capable of such a feat are Celestia and Astor Coruscare.”

“My ancestor. The mare who wrote The Power to Destroy and Ponies Make War.”

“Indeed. She also had a journal that Celestia keeps hidden in her chambers. Astor was the first pony to split her mind. I am not sure if she taught Celestia or if Celestia learned on her own.”

“What was she like?”

Luna paused and considered the question. How could she tell Twilight Sparkle about Astor Coruscare? She could say that Astor was more a monster than any of them. That she had tried to overthrow and murder Luna and Celestia. That she was Celestia’s greatest regret. That she had, in the end, been right. That she had saved the world.

“I have not read her journal,” Luna lied. “And I only met her once. Suffice to say she was not very much like you. I would not dwell upon it, Twilight Sparkle.”

“So... you don’t know anything about mind splitting, either?”

Luna pondered this for a moment. “Thou shouldst avoid splitting thine mind when it can be helped. It creates unnecessary strain upon the consciousness. Do not attempt three minds until ye hath mastered two.”

“I can do more than two?”

“Aye. Do not attempt to have two minds share faculties or split control of something that should not be split. In other words, do not give your forelegs to one mind and your hind to another—coordination will be impossible. Instead give the body to one mind and the magic to another.”

“I could cast with the focus of two Twilight Sparkles.”

“Yes. Most importantly, do not store the unwanted in another consciousness.”

“What do you mean?”

“Thou couldst easily dump pain and anger and pride into the back of thine mind, in an effort to prevent thineself from succumbing to these emotions. But our flaws are a part of us, Twilight Sparkle, and by doing this thou wouldst only be cutting away thine own identity. Only a full and complete Twilight Sparkle shouldst make decisions for herself. A fractured consciousness in control wilt almost always attempt to rationalize keeping the remainder of the self at bay. Who among us wishes to embrace our flaws and fears?”

“I...” Twilight looked troubled. “Thank you, Princess.”

Luna gave her a meaningful look. “I hope, Twilight, that thou wilt give what I have said serious consideration.”

“I-I will,” Twilight assured her. Then the unicorn vanished.

Luna looked at a point just below the horizon, where the moon was currently drifting skyward to usher in the night. Was Twilight burying every emotion that reminded her of Nihilus Nix Naught? If so, it would explain her absurd pacifism and indecisiveness. What had changed about the mare when she was occupied by the parasite that she was so desperate to deny?

The Princess sighed as she glided off of the rooftop to an alleyway below. Twilight would be her general, at least, which was something. If the mare could not handle the responsibility, her friends would have to help her find the strength. Celestia might be able to inspire greatness and trust in her pupil, but Luna had needed to guilt the poor girl into becoming her general.

It was no matter. Luna would save Celestia no matter the means she needed to employ.

“So,” the mare named Buttercup stated in an obvious effort to break the silence. “You’re one of the five.”

Applejack answered her with a wide grin. “Ah sure am! Though,” she said thoughtfully, “we don’t actually call ourselves that.”

“No? That’s what the royals call you. Scared half to death of you, they are, from what we can tell. You too, Princess.” Buttercup nodded to Princess Luna, who sat motionless in a corner. Applejack had thought that the princess incapable of becoming even more anti-social, but Luna had risen to the challenge by sitting motionless in the corner and not speaking for two hours, staring down any loyalist who so much as looked at her.

They were once again in the loyalists’ war room, the heart of the sprawling network of labyrinth tunnels that made up their new home and housed several hundred other ponies. Luna and “the five” plus Twilight had settled in, and now it was time for their first meeting.

Applejack had arrived early. She didn’t have much else to do underground anyway. Buttercup was the only loyalist with her, evidently having also come early.

“We’re here!” Pinkie Pie burst through one of the metal doors with Rarity in tow, then did a series of acrobatic cartwheels before settling on the ground in front of Applejack and beating her tail against the floor the way a dog might.

Buttercup seemed less surprised at the earthpony’s appearance than Applejack would have expected. “I suppose,” she said with a warm smile, “that we should wait until everypony arrives before doing introductions.”

Pinkie Pie grinned. “Sounds good to me!” she declared. Then, she leaned in toward Buttercup and spoke in a hoarse “whisper” that was louder by far than her usual speaking voice. “But on the D-L,” she said, “I’m Pinkie Pie.” She winked.

“Strictest confidence?” Buttercup answered her. Pinkie Pie nodded vigorously. “Buttercup.” She returned Pinkie’s wink.

“Applejack,” Rarity whined as she sauntered over. “Pinkie Pie got us lost four times.”

Pinkie Pie perked up. “I wasn’t lost. You just never said you wanted to come straight here.”

Rarity gave Pinkie Pie the most dejected look Applejack had ever seen. “You had me rappel down an artificial canyon wall.”

“We were exploring!”

“Uh, Rares?” Applejack cut in. “Why are you wearing your armor?”

“I am a knight commander, Applejack,” she said, as though that explained everything.

“Really?” said a new voice. An orange unicorn strode into the room. “Knight commander? That means you outrank me.” Applejack recognized him; it was the pony who had escorted Twilight earlier.

“Since when did you care about rank?” A grey-coated pegasus who looked old enough to be Applejack’s grandfather came in behind the unicorn. “You hate giving orders.”

“Since she’s somehow higher up on the knightly ladder than I am.” The unicorn jerked his head toward Rarity. He examined Rarity. “What are you, like, thirteen? Are you even a magic talent? Guess the Order Nocturnus and the Knights Solarion have different standards.”

Rarity gave him an arch look. “I dueled General Esteem yesterday,” she said airily.

The orange pony snorted. “In what? A beauty pageant? You and he both look like you’d fit the program.” The unicorn chuckled, and the pegasus rolled his eyes.

Rarity did not change her tone of voice. “My resemblance to my father is not a point of pride, I assure you.”

At this, every head in the room snapped toward Rarity. Applejack had not been expecting to hear that. It made sense, though—Rarity had acted strangely after returning from the conflict yesterday.

Rarity continued to speak in a casual voice. “Yes, I am knight commander, and if you would like to duel the only pony alive who has been trained by both the strongest mortal bladecaster and the god-princess sitting behind me, you will find out why. As a non-magical talent a decade your junior, I will happily embarrass you in front of your friends. And I will look positively fabulous doing it.”

The orange unicorn was wearing a bladecasting harness, and Rarity plucked a metal flask from it with her magic. She brought the flask to hover in front of her face as she unscrewed the cap. Then, she gave it a sniff and and wrinkled her nose disdainfully. “Different standards indeed,” she said before contemptuously tossing the flask back to him.

“Back in Cloudsdale that’s referred to as being schooled.” Rainbow Dash glided down from the upper balcony. Fluttershy followed. She landed beside Applejack and looked at the orange unicorn. “Who is this guy, anyway?”

The unicorn ignored her. “I don’t know if I like you or not,” he said to Rarity, “though I suppose you did give the alcohol back.”

“So every one of us is here before Twilight,” Dash said after looking around for the unicorn. “How does that happen?”

“Rainbow my dear, Twilight is busy with all her new duties! In any case, we’re all early; Twilight will be here on time. She always is.”

“Just like Midnight!” Buttercup chirped.

“Well,” the orange unicorn said, examining the face of his pocket watch. “‘On time’ is in twenty-two seconds.”

Rarity spoke. “If Midnight is like Twilight, and he isn’t here within twenty-two seconds—”

“Then your watch is broken,” Buttercup finished.

As if on cue, Twilight’s blue-coated father strode in through the door that Pinkie Pie had used. He took the room in at a glance. “I had a bigger table brought in for everypony so we’d all have room,” he said. “Why are you all standing over there?”

“Where’s the dragon mare and the purple pipsqueak?” the orange unicorn asked. Applejack was beginning to dislike him.

“Not walking,” Midnight said briskly, “and you don’t get to nickname my daughter.”

Twilight’s father sat, and the two chairs to his right filled with his daughter and wife in two bursts of purple light.

“Fascinating,” Twilight’s mother said as Twilight pulled a stack of papers out of thin air. “Tethered null-space. You can store and recall anything you like in a magical pocket. How did you manage it?”

“It’s nothing, really,” Twilight said, clearly flattered. “The retrieval system was the hard part.”

“Would a puppet survive in it?”

Applejack doubted many, if any, of the other ponies present caught the look of mortified horror that came oven Twilight’s face for only a fraction of a second. Applejack cleared her throat loudly, and Twilight and her mother both looked up.

“Ah, right,” Twilight said, looking around. “By my count, we’re waiting on one more, is that right?”

The grey pegasus stepped forward. “Wing commander Spitfire is still in the field, ma’am.”

Rainbow Dash’s head snapped up immediately. “Spitfire?!”

The grey pegasus looked at her. “She is the captain of the—”

“I know who she is! They’re here?”

He tilted his head. “Of course.”

“I suppose we ought to get started,” Twilight said loudly. She opened her mouth to speak, but seemed to hesitate. After shooting a quick glance at Luna, she said, “You may all sit.”

Hearing Twilight give the order was strange to Applejack—while Twilight was no stranger to being in charge, normally giving ponies orders was something that Luna would do. Twilight had just been promoted, though. Twilight’s parents took seats next to their daughter, and Buttercup, the orange unicorn, and the grey pegasus all took seats next to them. That left the other side of the table to Applejack and the gang. Luna remained motionless.

Applejack wondered briefly if the seating positions were intentional on Twilight’s part. She had placed herself in the midst of the loyalist commanders, flanked by the two who were pretty much guaranteed to support her in anything she did or said.

“While you’ve all encountered my team before, I think we ought to start by doing introductions.” As Twilight spoke, her father scribbled notes down on the paper that she had brought. “I’m Twilight Sparkle, General of the Armies of Equestria. My team and I are responsible for the defeat of the draconequus Discord and the alicorn Nightmare Moon. Who I must stress,” Twilight added, “is an entirely different pony from the alicorn sitting over there.” Everypony turned to the princess, whose demeanor remained unchanged.

“Five weeks ago General Esteem imprisoned me in a construct of alicorn magic. I was trapped within Nihilus Nix Naught until I was rescued by Princess Luna. I slept for almost a month before coming to Canterlot to help resolve this conflict.”

The grey pegasus cleared his throat. “You mean to say, general, that you can resolve this conflict? Not just Esteem, but Titan and Terra as well?”

“Yes.” Twilight said matter-of-factly. “But more on that once introductions are finished.”

“Of course, ma’am. Forgive my rudeness. My name is Noble.”

“Not just Noble,” added the irritating orange unicorn. “Noble Steed.”

Noble shot him a glare. “While my friend here is speaking the truth, I would much prefer you just call me Noble. I still have not the slightest idea what I could have done to my parents when I was only one day old to make them attempt to ruin my life by naming me Noble Steed. I used to be a captain in the Royal Air Force. When Titan arrived, I came out of retirement.”

The orange pony grinned. “I’m Sir Unimpressive,” he said.

Twilight’s mother snorted. “You don’t tell us your name for over a month and it turns out to be Unimpressive? Why am I not surprised?”

“It’s not actually Unimpressive, that’s just what your daughter here nicknamed me. Some ponies—” he shot Midnight a look, “—think nicknames are fun.”

When nopony reacted, he carried on. “I teach bladecasting to the ponies with the skill to learn, which mostly means Starlight and Midnight here, plus a couple of others who aren’t magical talents. When I’m not doing that, I’m out causing trouble or drinking. Although truthfully, the two aren’t mutually exclusive. I’m a bit of an abrasive jackass, but everypony puts up with me because of how useful and good-looking I am.”

Starlight laughed. “Nopony thinks you’re good-looking just because you’re shaped like a mare, Unimpressive.” She turned to face the table again. “I’m Starlight Sparkle,” she said, “And this is my husband, Midnight Sparkle. We worked as researchers before Titan’s arrival. As magical talents, we don’t really have the option of sitting out.” She nodded to Buttercup. “That leaves you, hon.”

“Oh,” said Buttercup. “Um, I’m Buttercup. I used to work in a dairy. That’s all there is to know, really.”

There was a short silence, which Unimpressive broke. “Okay, so what do all of you do? Twilight’s supposed to be the most powerful unicorn in the world. That’s going to be difficult to top.”

Neither Applejack nor any of her friends spoke up. Midnight’s quill hung in the air above his parchment. Finally, Rarity sighed. “I am Dame Rarity, Knight Commander of the Order Nocturnus. As I said earlier, I also happen to be General Esteem’s daughter.”

Starlight inhaled sharply through her teeth. “What?”

“She’s been one of my best friends since before Nightmare Moon, mom.”

Starlight’s eyes narrowed, and Rarity carried on. “I used to have a house and a small business, and now I have a weapon. That’s about it. Rainbow?” she turned to Dash who sat next to her.

Dash did not look alright. She bit her lip as her eyes darted from one pony to another, and the pegasus seemed to hesitate. “I, uh...” Her wings shifted. “I don’t—”

Rarity cut her off. “Rainbow Dash is the fastest pegasus alive,” she said simply.

“What? I never said—”

Applejack clapped her on the back. “Come on now, Dash! You’re faster than Luna!”

“And she knows kung-fu!” Pinkie Pie chirped.

“Fastest pegasus alive, eh?” said Noble. “How come I’ve never heard of you?”

“Because I was a weather pony.”

“And why were you a weather pony?”

Dash looked down, and for a moment Applejack thought she wouldn’t answer. “Because there’s something wrong with me,” she said quietly.

Noble appeared flabbergasted, and clearly was not going to respond. Applejack decided she needed to draw attention away from Dash. “Ah’m Applejack,” she declared.

“An earthpony,” Unimpressive mused. “This should be good. What do you do?”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Near invincibility. Instantaneous regeneration, for when the ‘near’ part kicks in. Super strength. Lie detector. Good with a lasso. Always show up when somepony needs rescuin’.”

Unimpressive narrowed his eyes. “Well that’s just ridiculous. Does the pink one shoot lasers out of her eyes?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Applejack saw Twilight smile faintly.

“I make a delicious triple-iced rainbow-layer banana cake!” Pinkie Pie said. “And sometimes I exhibit precognizance. I know everypony—and I mean everypony, in Ponyville, as well as kung-fu. I can tie a balloon octopus wearing a top hat in three point three seconds, and can vault over eight feet into the air. I can mix up the perfect spicy chocolate tomato milkshake, and a near perfect assortment of explosives and combat lubricants. Oh, and my name’s Pinkie Pie.”

“But no lasers?”

Pinkie Pie leaned forward and began to stare at the knight intently. Her tone became dead serious. “Not yet.”

Unimpressive rolled his eyes. “That leaves butter-yellow butterflies. Name?”

Fluttershy sank visibly in her seat. Her voice became incredibly quiet and squeaky. “I’m, um—”

“Fluttershy,” Twilight said loudly. “And she always comes through for you when you need her.”

Unimpressive opened his mouth to speak, but Noble spoke over him. “If all of this is true, you certainly are an impressive group of ponies. It’s no wonder we’ve heard the stories we have about you. But the six of you would still stand no chance against a pony as powerful as Empyrean, let alone Titan and Terra.”

“I said before that we could resolve this conflict,” Twilight said, “but I didn’t mean with fighting. Though, certainly, there will be fighting involved. If we can get myself and the five in a room alone with Prince Empyrean...” She swallowed. “He dies. The same goes for Titan and Terra.”

The loyalist ponies all exchanged glances. “Twilight,” Midnight said, setting down his papers. “You can do that? You can just kill one of the gods?

“I can’t tell you the method. Suffice to say that Celestia armed me with exactly the tools I need to rid her of any of her enemies.”

Midnight’s mouth became a thin line. “I see.”

“So that’s it?” Unimpressive said. “We’re just supposed to go along with whatever you say because Celestia left you with the tools to save the world? And you aren’t even going to tell us how you intend to win us this war? I’m going to go ahead and vote no on this one, you guys.”

“Do we have a choice?” Buttercup said. Everyone turned toward her. “Honestly, this is Twilight Sparkle. If she walked into the mess right now and asked everypony to mutiny, what do you think would happen? You think we’d still be in charge at the end of the day?”

“A fair point,” conceded Noble.

Twilight looked appalled at the prospect. “I wouldn’t—”

“You won’t need to, General,” Buttercup assured. “The entire reason this outfit exists is to cause trouble waiting for your arrival. Am I really the only pony who’s realized that we’re just Princess Celestia’s smoke-screen? Everything is coming together, and it’s up to us to be ready when it does. To that end we should be giving Twilight Sparkle everything we have.”

Starlight gritted her teeth. “I do not like the idea of my daughter being used as another one of Celestia’s tools.”

“I wasn’t just a tool, mom. I was her prized pupil.”

“Prized enough to be targeted by Titan, but not prized enough for her to rescue.”

“Mom!”

“In any case,” Noble said loudly. “Buttercup has a point. And as two of our five votes belong to your parents, I doubt joint decision-making would bring us to a different conclusion. It would appear Twilight Sparkle is now in charge. Her presence will no doubt be good for morale. Any objections?”

Everypony looked at Unimpressive. “You all realize that you’re putting a kid in charge, right? I suppose I’m going to have to be the one to follow her around and make sure she doesn’t screw anything up.”

“Follow her around?” Starlight asked with a smile. “We can throw ourselves through space with a thought. Good luck.”

Unimpressive muttered something uncharitable about teleporting mares. Everypony ignored him.

Twilight cleared her throat. “Well now that all of that’s out of the way,” she said, “I think we should move on to the labyrinth.” A thin film of translucent purple energy coated Twilight’s horn, and the area above the table was filled with purple lines. The ghostly lines traced an enormous, three-dimensional maze above them, and Twilight frowned. “Green would be easier to see, wouldn’t it?” she said, and the image of the maze immediately became green.

“We are here.” A red mark appeared on the ghostly map. “And you’ve spread ponies all throughout these passageways.” Twilight took several sheets of paper from her father and spread them in the air before her. She appeared to read them as the map continued to draw itself. “There are a couple of things that we need to go over.”

It was then that Applejack noticed that every unicorn in the room was looking at Twilight with wide eyes—even her parents. Applejack didn’t understand what Twilight was doing that was so impressive.

“Feeding so many ponies must be difficult—I imagine most of your food comes from the raids that Noble here organizes.”

Noble rested his chin on a hoof. “How do you know I organize the raids?”

“Objective analysis and deductive reasoning,” Twilight said dismissively. “Also, it’s clear by your maps here that your knowledge of even the proximate sections of the labyrinth is limited. The same complexity that makes the labyrinth such a perfect hiding place is working against you. I’d like you to hoof-pick some trustworthy ponies that I can teach the immediate subsections to. Enough that any operation we undertake can involve a pony capable of navigating the labyrinth.

“I’d also like to restructure several of your accommodations and storage for greater efficiency, but we can go over the details of that later. With the outer barrier down, new options for getting food and supplies have arisen.”

“Twilight,” said Starlight, “did you really take the barrier down on your own?”

Twilight shifted uncomfortably. “It was nothing, really.”

“We got everypony we could together and tried when it first came up,” Midnight said, “but it was—”

“It was,” Twilight emphasized.

“I’m no unicorn,” Buttercup said, “but what’s to stop Titan and Empyrean from just putting up another one?”

“Nothing,” said Twilight. “But there’s nothing to stop me from taking it down again, either. Empyrean had to expend a massive amount of energy keeping that barrier up. I doubt he’ll spend so much effort to replace something he knows I can take down.”

“We now have access to the outer city,” Midnight breathed. “To all of Equestria. With full knowledge of the labyrinth we can get refugees out with impunity. We can get supplies in, we can—”

“Recruit,” stated Twilight. “That will be the focus of the next several weeks. We are going to expand and recruit as many ponies as we possibly can. The emergence of Princess Luna and I, as well as the breaking of the barrier, should inspire more ponies to join the resistance.” The image of the labyrinth dissolved, and was immediately replaced with a series of lines that began to trace out a facsimile of the palace. “And we’re going to need them,” Twilight said. “The palace is a fortress filled with Prince Empyrean, General Esteem, over two hundred truepony soldiers and over seven hundred puppets, by my estimate.”

Midnight blanched. “Estimate? How did you come up with those numbers?”

“Objective analysis and deductive reasoning,” Twilight said once again. “In any case, while I don’t intend to have us assault it head-on, we will need numbers. To that end I also intend to organize some recruitment initiatives. Which means...”

The rest of the meeting ended up being mostly just details that Applejack was not concerned with whatsoever. They went over minutiae and planned additional meetings, and she wondered why she had even been needed at this one at all.

When the meeting concluded, Twilight had taken more tasks upon herself Applejack thought was wise.Twilight had woken up days ago—she should be taking things easy. While she was certainly a capable mare, she could do with some rest considering what she had just woken up from. Applejack decided to stay behind and tell the unicorn that she ought to slow down a bit, and waited until only Twilight and Luna were left in the room.

When they were, Twilight let out a heavy sigh and rested her head on the table. “Well,” she said, sounding exhausted. “How did I do?”

Luna moved for the first time in hours. “Thou didst moderately well,” she said. “While ye recalled to give permission as though ye are in charge, ye were perhaps too permissive. Remember, Twilight Sparkle, thou art supposed to be the hero to these ponies. While thou may allow thineself to appear flawed, it must ultimately serve the purpose of making thineself relatable, and thus likable. Ye must appear as a lovable saviour possessed of mysterious powers. Ye must appear righteous and wise. The use of the polycast maze made thee appear powerful. Thou must doest things like that again in the future. Remember to express humility only when it serves to make thee appear even more grandiose—acting as thought the destruction of Empyrean’s barrier was easy didst accomplish this.”

“Yes, Princess Luna.”

“I will begin to suggest outlandish and brutal courses of action in the presence of the others. Thou must oppose me. Thine opposition and my submission will solidify thee in their minds as the righteous general who hath replaced their beloved princess. When one of my planned excursion succeeds, I will credit thee with the success. Thou must set aside thine humility and accept this credit.”

“Yes, Princess Luna.”

“Thou shalt not argue with thine lieutenants in the eye of the loyalists. Thou shalt not admit fault was thine for anything, instead placing the blame on myself or a lieutenant. Thou shalt stand tall and proud, and use thine magic to impress at every opportunity that presents itself. Thou shalt present thyself publicly as often as possible. Thou must appear to live up to thine reputation, and they will love thee, as planned.”

“They’ll love me,” Twilight echoed emotionlessly.

“They will love thee, Twilight Sparkle. Celestia did this for a thousand years. She was the greatest of ponies, and believed thee to be the same.”

“The greatest of ponies,” Twilight said faintly.

“Applejack,” Luna called out. Applejack looked up at the princess as Luna made for the door. “The burden I have placed upon Twilight Sparkle is a heavy one. Thou and thine must comfort and support her in all things. She needs thee.”

“The greatest of ponies,” Twilight said again after she had left. She sighed and looked at Applejack. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this general thing.”

Applejack smiled weakly. “Nonsense, Twi. Luna is just being... forceful. Ah don’t think you should worry too much about doing everything she was talking about. You just do the job the way you want to do it and ponies will love you just fine. Ah’m just worried your biting off more than you can chew, so to speak.”

“Tell me about it. The amount of restructuring that will have to be done now that we’re here is staggering. And I’m supposed to give orders and become their new deity while I’m at it. Plus I already have half a dozen meetings to attend. And all of that is in addition to the things we need to cover.”

Applejack was confused. “We as in you and I?”

“As in the Elements of Harmony. Our meeting is tomorrow.”

“You sure you’re gunna be alright, Twilight?”

“I’ll be fine, Applejack, I’m sure of it,” Twilight lied. “I just need to work out a proper schedule.” She lifted a stack of papers and a quill.

“Listen to me, Twilight,” Applejack said. “If there’s anything Ah can do, don’t hesitate to ask, ya hear? You’re no use to anypony with your brains frazzled by all this stress.”

Twilight treated Applejack to a level stare. “I’m just doing my part like everypony else, Applejack. I can’t possibly do any less. Besides, it isn’t like you could host the meetings or study the Elements anyway.”

Applejack sighed. “Well at least come and spend some time with us, will you? We’ve hardly spoken at all since you woke up.”

Twilight was busy scribbling away on the parchment. “I will, just not right now. We’ll talk about penciling you in after tomorrow’s meeting, alright?”

Applejack opened her mouth to protest, but Twilight had vanished before she could speak. She hung her head.

Twilight was one of the most capable mares Applejack had ever met. Even still, the unicorn was clearly under a lot of pressure. That she needed her friends was as plain as day to Applejack. But how to get her to slow down?

“Is everypony here?”

Twilight stood before the extra-big table at the center of the loyalist “war room”, her horn and eyes burning with magical energy. Suspended by her magic were the six Elements of Harmony, lazily rotating in the air above the table.

“Um, yes, Twilight, everypony is here. You can’t, um,” Fluttershy gulped. “See us?”

“Of course not,” Twilight said. “Aren’t my eyes closed?”

Applejack waved a hoof in front of Twilight’s face. The unicorn gave no reaction. “Nope.”

“Oh.” Twilight squeezed her eyes shut. “Sorry, that must look weird. It’s a unicorn thing.”

Rarity winced. “Er...”

“Okay, it isn’t a unicorn thing. More like a Twilight Sparkle-Princess Celestia-Astor Coruscare thing. I’m really deep in magic right now. This is incredible. I knew the Elements of Harmony were different, but this is almost alien. They make expert-level enchantments look like something I’d draw with a crayon.”

“You can draw enchantments with a crayon?” Pinkie Pie chirped. “That sounds pretty skillful to me.”

“No, I can’t. That’s my point: trying to emulate this kind of craftsponyship is, to my knowledge, impossible to do with unicorn magic. Like trying to start a fire with a stick of bubble gum and some saran-wrap. Luckily I don’t have to emulate them.” Twilight lowered the Elements to the table. “Just understand them.” Her horn stopped glowing and she opened her eyes.

Fluttershy smiled. “So do you?”

Twilight sighed and hung her head. “Not in the slightest.”

Applejack patted her on the back. “Aw, cheer up, Twi! It isn’t like we need to know how they work to use them.”

“But it is, Applejack! Think of how many questions we have that still need answering. Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie have magic from outside their species! Rainbow Dash can instantaneously locate Rarity when she’s in danger, and Rarity knew exactly when to throw herself off a bridge. You burst through a wall at just the right moment, and you think that’s just luck? Pinkie Pie knows exactly where to step to land on Vorpal’s diamonds! None of this can be coincidence! At least some of it has to be related to the Elements of Harmony!

“The elder gods showed up and overthrew Princess Celestia. We have the only things that can stop them, and we barely know how they work or where they came from. The Elements had to have had an architect, which means they probably also have a purpose. Am I the only pony who cares about this?”

Applejack shrugged. “Ah haven’t had much time to think about it, with all the fighting, but Ah just thought we’d do the rainbow thing and be done with it.”

“Wait,” Fluttershy said loudly. Or rather, relatively loudly. Everypony heard her, which was atypical. She looked at them all. “If we don’t know how they work...” She let the sentence hang in the air.

“Then how do we know they will work,” Rarity finished. “What if they can only destroy the Slivers and Discord?”

“Then we lose,” Twilight said simply. “And Titan rules the world.”

Applejack scoffed. “Now hold on just a minute, Twi—”

“I’ve felt his magic,” Twilight said. “I can safely say that Titan did not create the Elements of Harmony, but I’ve seen first-hoof what he is capable of. Ask Luna if fighting him is an option. If the Elements of Harmony can’t—” she stopped, chewing on her next word. “—kill an uncorrupted alicorn, then it’s over.”

Applejack narrowed her eyes. “Well that makes this really simple, doesn’t it?”

“They’ll work,” Fluttershy let out softly. “They have to.”

“Well now that we’ve got that out of the way,” Twilight smiled. “Who wants to wear the blindfold?”

Fluttershy gulped once more. “Um, blindf—”

“Me!” Pinkie shouted. “Me! I do! I want to wear the blindfold!”

Twilight tossed her a strip of cloth. “Thought you might, so I grabbed something pink.” Pinkie Pie began to tie the blindfold around her face as Twilight spoke to the rest of the group. “We need to do some experimentation,” she said. “I can examine the ties that bond the Elements of Harmony all day, but experimental data is imperative! To that end, we’re all going to attack Pinkie Pie.”

“Wait, what?” Pinkie Pie looked around despite that fact that her eyes were covered.

“Think fast, Pinkie!” Twilight pulled a tiny cushion from midair and sent it flying at the earthpony.

It struck Pinkie Pie head-on, and the pink pony was sent to the floor. “No fair!” she cried. “I thought we were going to play pin the tail on the pony!”

“I need you to focus, Pinkie Pie.”

Applejack barked out a laugh. “Twilight, you just told Pinkie Pie to focus.”

“Point taken.” Another cushion bounced off of Pinkie’s chest. “What do you guys usually do before you get cognizance of the others?”

“Nothing,” Pinkie said. “It just happens.”

Twilight was clearly becoming irritated. “I don’t suppose you could try to make it just happen now, could you?”

“Sure thing, Twi! Fire away!” Pinkie Pie spun in place, and ended up with her back to Twilight. Twilight threw one of her cushions, and it bounced off of the back of Pinkie’s head. “Keep going!” She brought it around again.

Applejack spoke. “Wait, Pinkie. Can’t you just use your Pinkie sense to dodge them?”

“Of course I could. But that would cheating. Nopony likes a cheater.”

It happened on the fifth pass. Twilight brought a cushion towards her, and Pinkie Pie ducked out of the way at the last moment. The cushion continued along its trajectory, and Twilight seemed so shocked that she didn’t stop it from striking her in the face.

“Pinkie Pie, did you just...”

“I got it, alright!”

Twilight seemed amazed. But then, Fluttershy thought to herself, it was quite amazing.

“I have to take notes!” Twilight cried. She looked around, panicked. “Why haven’t I been taking notes?! Experimental procedure is imperative!” She pulled a notepad and quill from empty space, then tossed another cushion at Pinkie Pie, which was skillfully evaded.

“So you can feel them coming, Pinkie? You aren’t using your Pinkie sense?”

“Nope!” Pinkie Pie back-flipped over a cushion. “It’s you, Twilight. I can feel you.”

Twilight put a hoof to her chin, then threw another cushion. Pinkie didn’t move at all, and Fluttershy thought that she would fail to dodge it, but then it stopped mid-flight before Pinkie’s face. Twilight began to furiously scribble down notes. “Fascinating,” she said. “You knew I was going to stop the cushion. Let’s try it with Rarity.”

Pinkie Pie evaded all of Rarity’s cushions, then evaded cushions thrown by Twilight and Rarity simultaneously. It was then that Twilight produced another blindfold and tossed it to Rainbow Dash.

Fluttershy watched Rainbow Dash carefully. The pegasus was obviously not comfortable being in the same room as Twilight. In fact, Dash was rarely comfortable anymore. She was still Rainbow Dash, but she had come back from Nihilus’s spell a little more grim than before. She rarely followed orders she disagreed with, and she never talked about anything that had happened before the coming of Titan.

If Dash resented Twilight, however, she did a good job of hiding her feelings. She silently tied the blindfold over her eyes, then stood up on the table. Pinkie climbed up after her.

“Let’s start Dash off with the cushions,” said Twilight.

It took longer for Rainbow Dash to find it than it had for Pinkie Pie. Fluttershy noticed that Twilight didn’t throw any cushions at Dash, instead letting Rarity throw them all. After almost two dozen strikes, Dash moved the perfect amount of distance to evade one of the cushions. Her head snapped toward Rarity’s exact position. “Woah,” she breathed.

Twilight looked up from her notepad. “Okay,” she said. “Something a little more complicated. You two are going to try to hit each other as hard as you can while making sure the other pony doesn’t hit you. Get the feel first before you start.”

Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash both stood motionless atop the table, and every other pony watched in silence. Finally, they both started to move very slowly. They each took several deep breaths, and then Dash moved forward and very slowly extended a hoof. It almost appeared as though she was fighting in slow motion. Pinkie Pie moved out of the way, drawing the motion out with the same excruciating slowness. Then, she threw her own punch, this time slightly faster.

Dash stepped back to avoid it, then slowly reared up on her forelegs in an act of supreme balance and kicked out with her hind leg. Pinkie Pie started ducking before Dash even threw the kick.

Twilight spoke quietly as the two fighters began to quicken their pace. “This is harmony,” she said breathlessly. “If you can learn to control this the benefits would be... astronomical, to say the least. A team of perfectly synchronized fighters who always know where each other are. Individual weaknesses would be abolished.”

Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie began to fight at an alarming speed, and still neither one of them could touch the other. Pinkie Pie giggled, and Dash grinned. They flipped and rolled, punched and kicked, and executed moves that were ridiculously elaborate. Fluttershy could barely track their movements.

“Also, you two know kung-fu. That’s pretty neat.” Twilight tossed some cushions into the fray, but they were effortlessly evaded.

“Alright,” she said. “That’s enough of that. You’ll all need to teach one another the technique later. And I suppose I ought to learn too. For purely academic reasons, of course, since it isn’t like I’m going to be fighting,” she added.

“Next on the itinerary.” Twilight drew a colorful sheet of parchment from thin air. “Enchantments.” She nodded once. “All of you have become extremely capable, but I’d like a greater feeling of security. As the Elements of Harmony, none of us are expendable. Since I doubt I can convince any of you not to take the field, I’d like to place protective spells on all your armor. Interestingly enough, the physical manifestation of the Elements themselves are more conducive to enchantments than any other material known to ponykind— even meteoric platinum. An enchantable enchantment is supposed to be impossible, but why not, right? They already break every other rule in the book. Still, I think with some fiddling I’ll be able to work them into your armor.”

Dash took off her blindfold. “What kind of spells are we talking about?” Fluttershy noticed that Dash was still not looking Twilight in the eye.

“Protective ones,” Twilight said. “I can make your skin as hard as sheet steel. In Pinkie Pie’s case, I’d like to do about a dozen other things. In Applejack’s case, I’d like to create something that stores mass. For Rarity, a spatial sheath for Vorpal. In your case, I’d like to forge a weapon. I still haven’t seen what Fluttershy wears, so we’ll have to work from there.

“Try to remember that no matter how strong the Elements or my enchantments might help you become, it’s all just a means to a greater end. None of this matters if all of us can’t get to Empyrean and use the Elements of Harmony. We’re going to beat him with friendship, not fighting. The armor enchantments are just to help us get through his defenses.”

“Like General Esteem,” Rarity said stiffly.

Twilight nodded. “I’ll need access to all of your armor.”

“So what do we do until then?” Applejack said.

“Oh, I’m sure Luna can find a use for you. She’s organizing supply raids now with Unimpressive.”

“Sir Unimpressive, Twilight. Titles are important.” Everypony looked at Rarity, and she shrugged. “What? I might not like him, but he’s still a knight.”

“But I’m a general.”

“Different ranking systems entirely, darling. I outrank him and I still call him by his honorific.”

Twilight let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t have time to learn all the formalities. Here,” she said, pulling more papers out of thin air. “I drew you all simplified maps that you should memorize.”

Applejack groaned. “Homework?”

“Essentially, yes. You should be able to find your way to the training hall from here. Luna will want to see you all. I’ll call another meeting once I learn more about the Elements.”

Everypony left except for Twilight, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash.

“A weapon?” Dash asked with a touch of venom.

The tone of her voice was lost on Twilight, who was a reading a book and levitating the Elements of Harmony at the same time. “Uh-huh,” she said absent-mindedly. “Coruscare has designs and enchantments for something in Ponies Make War. It wouldn’t make sense for her to have put pegasine weapons or armor in The Power to Destroy.”

“My hooves work just fine, thanks.”

“I remember,” Twilight said without any change in tone. “But I’d like you to have the extra defenses against unicorns.”

Dash shook her head. “Whatever,” she muttered loudly before storming off.

Fluttershy was torn between chasing after Rainbow Dash and staying with Twilight. It was clear that both of them could use somepony to talk to. As far as Fluttershy could tell, Twilight and Dash were overcome with guilt. But then why didn’t they just talk to one another about it?

In the end, she stayed with Twilight— not because she chose to, but because she took too long to come to a decision. Twilight stood in front of the table looking after the door that Dash had exited through, head cocked to one side. Slowly she seemed to realize that Dash had been angry with her.

“I don’t get it,” she said. “What did I say?”

Fluttershy didn’t know if the question had been directed at her, or at nopony in particular. “I don’t know.”

“I tried talking to her and she told me ‘later.’ Am I just supposed to ignore her until then? I can’t ignore somepony who’s supposed to be my friend! Do I try to force the subject? But then I’d be going against her wishes and that would mean I’m a terrible friend! I have no idea what I’m doing!”

“Why doesn’t she want to talk to you in the first place?”

Twilight looked at her as though she had just asked an extremely stupid question. “Are you kidding me?”

Fluttershy ground a hoof against the floor. “Well... you’re both better now.”

“I’m not,” Twilight said matter-of-factly.

“W-w-what do you mean?”

Twilight sighed. “I’m not myself, Fluttershy.”

Fluttershy was confused. “Don’t say that, Twilight. You’re still the unicorn we all became friends with.”

“That’s just it,” Twilight said. “I don’t... I don’t think I should be.”

“W-w-what do you mean?”

“I don’t really want to go into the details, but I hated Nihilus. More than I have ever hated anything in my entire life. I spent a week living with the thoughts of somepony whose only source of pleasure was destroying the things I cared about. When I saw the chance to—” Twilight choked on the words, then took a deep breath. “I killed Nihilus Nix Naught. And when she begged me for her life, I gloated. I smiled not just because I knew you were all going to be safe, but because I knew that I had destroyed everything she cared about. Just like her.”

Fluttershy bit her lip. “Twilight! You aren’t anything like her!”

“Exactly,” Twilight whispered. She turned and looked at Fluttershy with a terrible expression of foreboding. “I buried every last piece of violence and rage I had in a deep, dark place inside me. I thought I let it go and made myself whole when I broke the barrier, but now I’m not so sure. What if I’ve been pushing it away all of this time without realizing it? What if I’m really an even worse pony than I imagined? I could become the next Coruscare. I’d be everything Celestia wanted me to be. I’d be a monster and tool.”

Fluttershy didn’t know what to say. “You aren’t a monster, Twilight. You never could be.”

“Do you remember what Nihilus said when you told her she could do good?”

Fluttershy had only a vague recollection. “That she didn’t want to.”

“That not a part of her was capable of good. And what did you tell her?”

This Fluttershy remembered with perfect clarity. “That you could do evil.”

“I don’t know what keeping part of myself locked away could do to me. But I have to try to be the pony everypony needs me to be, and I certainly can’t do that if all I care about is... well, you know.”

“Twilight... I meant that everypony could do evil. Nopony is perfect, everypony makes mistakes.”

“I’m General Twilight Sparkle now, Fluttershy. I can’t afford to make mistakes.”

“Twilight?”

“Mhm?”

“I don’t think—” Fluttershy struggled with the words. How could she say this to a friend? “I don’t think you’re dealing with this properly.”

Twilight’s expression darkened. “And how should I handle it? Step down as General and let ponykind down? Stay on as General and destroy myself? Go looking for the monster inside me? Keep it away and slowly go crazy? I’d rather be a broken coward than a creature like Nihilus!” Twilight was shouting by now. “Should we all just go back to Ponyville, minus a dragon, and try to live in his new world? Leave the rebellion to Luna?”

“Twilight, I didn’t—”

“No matter what I do, ponies will get hurt. Myself included. We don’t live in Celestia’s world anymore. There is no perfect solution. I can’t send two tickets in and get six tickets out. Not this time. I’m doing the best I can, Fluttershy, and I’m sorry if it isn’t meeting yours or Luna’s standards. I agreed to be the student of the Princess, not the god-slayer General of the Armies of Equestria. If you find a better way to do things, let me know.”

With that, Twilight vanished, leaving Fluttershy alone to wipe the tears from her eyes.

They came for her in the night, of course.

Celestia didn’t know where she went wrong. She had covered her tracks and hidden the body in the on the side of the ruined castle closest to Ponyville. She had made hours of ground before Terra had returned. She had run towards the Dark Heart of the Everfree Forest, and made sure not to run afoul of any native creatures. She had covered her tracks. For Calamity’s sake, Celestia was magicless. There was nothing about her that they could look for, let alone track. She had covered every angle, preemptively worked against every measure that Terra might employ to find her.

None of it mattered. They had found her.

She learned of their presence by the noise they made. They crashed through underbrush, breaking branches and tripping over roots. She didn’t see them until they were very close, as it was night and the puppets were black. In fact, she only saw them once the bright blue pegasus that led the puppets landed amongst their pack.

Celestia cursed her white coat—undoubtedly the pegasus had spotted her through a break in the trees from above and called his puppets to come and capture her. It meant that Terra knew where to look, but it also meant that Celestia still had a chance.

She saw no unicorns, which meant that Terra would not know they had found her. She would need to take out the pegasus first and quickly so as to prevent him from fleeing and finding her mother. The earthpony puppets would follow. There were barely a dozen of them.

Unlike her enemies, Celestia had no magic to quicken her reflexes, heighten her senses, or strengthen her blows. And while she was certainly much more rested and well-fed than she had been during her escape, she was not in peak physical condition. She did not have any weapons of any kind.

What she did have was a mind of steel tempered by over a thousand years of ruling the greatest civilization the world had ever seen. A mind that had broken dynasties and defeated gods with weighted words and seemingly innocuous laws. A mind that could see all ends in a situation as basic and primitive as this one. A mind that would have forgotten more about bringing ruin to your enemies than Terra had ever known, if it ever forgot anything. The mind of a god.

Times three.

She distracted the pegasus by throwing a stick at his face. He turned and raised his forelegs to deflect it, and Celestia stepped inside his neglectful guard and struck him the jaw, then broke the dazed pony’s neck. She wondered briefly which of them had possessed more hubris, then decided it didn’t matter—she was the one left alive.

The earthponies were a different case entirely. They were tougher than the average pegasus, and Celestia had to take her time. It didn’t matter—nopony knew where she was but these. She had all the time in the world.

She was patient and calculating, putting down the creatures with a broken stick through specific points on their equine anatomy. She did not fight them head on, but rather led them into lunges or trips that would bring them down long enough for her to slay. She was careful not to become surrounded, but in that regard her other minds had her covered.

It was no easy task. Constant combat was a rigorous exercise, and even conserving energy as she was it began to take its toll on her. It didn’t matter though—she had measured out her physical energy and knew she had enough. It became easier as she progressed, as there were less puppets to keep track of.

It was only when she drove the stick through the final puppet’s eye, exhausted, that she heard the music.

Celestia would remember later that the melody was nothing extremely complex or even original. That the forest provided terrible acoustics. That the sound was thrown off by the fact that one of her ears had been eaten. She would remember those things later, because at that moment she was enraptured by the most beautiful sound she had ever heard in her life. In a life of one thousand, one hundred and eleven years, nothing she had ever experienced could even compare.

It was more than just music. It was infused with love and joy and all the beauty in the world that went unseen. It spoke to her of longing and loss and the folly of equinity. It moved her, like nothing else could, and she let the tears stream down her face, unashamed. It was alicorn magic, and she wanted it, wanted her godhood back with an intensity that that made her stomach tighten and her legs shake.

The trees around Celestia bowed away from the god-Queen of the world as she descended to the ground without a single flap of her wings. Celestia went to her, and Terra smiled at her with a radiance that made the worries of the immortal game melt away from Celestia’s mind. Her ethereal mane reached out and brushed her daughter’s face, and Celestia smiled back at her mother when she felt its warm touch.

Then the singing stopped.

Celestia looked at her grinning mother with horror. “No,” she said softly. The statement did not adequately encapsulate her denial.

“Hey, Sunshine.”

A series of loud cracks rang out through the surrounding forest as Terra broke each of Celestia’s legs with her magic. “I admit I’m not all that smart, but how arrogant are you that you think you can escape Titan? To him you will always be entirely predictable.”

Tears burned against Celestia’s face. They had nothing to do with her broken legs. “Doesn’t it bother you,” she said through gritted teeth, “that you need him to—”

Terra shut her up with a jarring strike to her jaw. “Quit trying to get me to kill my husband for you. There at least your manipulations have been childishly overt. Why would I ever abandon Titan to join my crippled daughters? Do you not recall that over a thousand years ago you locked me beneath the earth with him?”

Terra rolled Celestia over so that she was belly-up. “I had waged war against him for decades, and you never asked if I would help you take back the world. You didn’t want an ally then, and you don’t want one now. You only want a tool. So no, Celestia, I am not going to join you against Titan. I have known him for almost a thousand years. Our relationship is more complex than just love or hate. You disrespect the bond between us when you treat it as a string to pull on. Perhaps it is because you and your sister have never shared such a bond that you understand so little about ours.”

Celestia spat blood into the dirt, and Terra continued. “I’m also supposed to bring up the fact that you killed two ponies for nothing, Sunshine. He said that would break you. This is all his play, you see.”

Celestia flattened her humiliation, then her guilt. Then, she had to flatten her humiliation again. Then, she sobbed uncontrollably, letting out a piteous series of moans as she did so.

Terra smiled once more. “Come on, now, Sunshine,” she said, leaning down and letting her tendrils of her warm mane lick the tears from her daughter’s face. “It isn’t that bad. Let’s go home.”

-

Chapter thirteen, Sparkle and Twilight, will be linked Wednesday, January 25th

Am I secretly your long-lost sister? AestheticBrony@gmail.com!

Thanks goes out to Vimbert: Excellent pre-reader and excellent pre-reader.

Sparkle and Twilight

Sparkle and Twilight

Pinkie Pie’s armor was laid out on the table before them. “So what’s the yellow?” Twilight asked.

“Pinkie smoke!”

“Pinkie smoke?”

“It’s, like, way better than regular smoke. I’ll show you.”

Twilight quickly pulled the canister out of Pinkie’s mouth before she could pull the pin and release the wonderful concoction contained within. “I’ll take your word for it,” she said quickly. “And the red one?”

“It explodes.” If Twilight didn’t want to see the Pinkie smoke, she definitely wouldn’t want to see the Pinkie fireball. For use on puppets only.

“Magnitude?” Twilight asked.

“Twenty one point three supertons.”

Twilight gave her a flat look. “‘Super’ isn’t a metric prefix, Pinkie.”

“Oh.” Pinkie looked down, disheartened. “What kind of depressing system wouldn’t use super as a prefix?”

“All of them, to my knowledge,” Twilight said as she selected another canister. “Okay, this one is just filled with confetti.”

Pinkie nodded, glad that Twilight had selected that one next. “Mhm. That’s for when I want to shoot confetti.”

“And this one here is for when you want to shoot putty?”

Pinkie nodded again. “Putty that explodes.”

Twilight froze, then delicately placed the open canister onto the table. “So these are the blades, right here next to the parachute. And they also fit into the launching mechanism along with the harpoon.” It seemed she was speaking more to herself than to Pinkie Pie. Pinkie briefly considered striking up her own solo conversation, but decided not to. She didn’t want to be rude, and everypony talking at once would make it difficult for Twilight to hear herself think. Pinkie knew that Twilight liked to think.

“Modular fitting system,” Twilight continued to muse to herself as she toyed with the parts in the air before her. “Efficient launching mechanism. Ergonomic design and high-traction placements. This is impressive, Pinkie. How come you work in a bakery when you can design and construct something like this?”

For a supposedly smart mare, Twilight could ask some pretty dumb questions. “I can’t exactly throw parties in a machine shop. Somepony could get hurt.”

“I... see,” Twilight said. Pinkie Pie doubted she saw, but said nothing. Twilight blew air through her cheeks and regarded the suit of armor resting on the table before her. “Well,” she said, “I can definitely enchant it to harden your skin. Beyond that, I can’t make any promises.” She pulled the Element of Laughter from her null-space and the glow of her horn began to intensify. “I’ll try to enchant your blades so that you can bring them against a unicorn blade without having them be destroyed. I’ll also try to rework your firing mechanism so that you won’t need to carry around those tanks of compressed gas. And with your permission, I’ll remove the mouth-straps and link the suit to your thoughts.”

Pinkie Pie knew that Twilight didn’t need her permission to cast a mind spell on her, but Twilight didn’t need to be reminded of the fact that Nihilus had abused that power by enslaving Rainbow Dash. “Permission granted!” She gave a mock salute.

Twilight’s horn emitted a burst of magical light so bright it hurt to look at, so Pinkie Pie looked directly at it. When her vision normalized, the Element of Laughter was a single solid pink gem. Twilight gave a short, approving hmph. “I knew I could reshape the material component without affecting the cuffle,” she said. Again, Pinkie deduced that she was talking to herself.

Then, something seemed to go wrong. Twilight closed her eyes and shook her head as though it were a piggy bank and she was rattling out the last quarter. “Twilight?”

Twilight exhaled sharply, then set her shoulders and opened her eyes. She didn’t say anything.

“Twilight? Hello! Earth to Twilight! This is Pinkie Pie, over.”

Twilight put a hoof to her temple and rubbed. “Sorry, Pinkie. It’s just.. that was a lot of complicated magic at once. Last time I did that I started hearing voices.”

That made sense. “So what did they say this time?”

Twilight looked at Pinkie as if pondering whether or not to tell her. “Nothing nice,” she said finally. Pinkie figured Twilight was telling her just because she was wacky enough to handle the wacky truth. She pondered the strange sound of the word “wacky” for a moment. Something about it just seemed alien all of the sudden, but that happened with all sorts of words all the time. Sometimes Pinkie Pie sat and thought about how strange her own name sounded.

Pinkie wasn’t talking, so Twilight continued. “It thinks it should be in charge instead of me. Sorry, it thinks we should both be in charge.”

“What’s it called?”

“Twilight or Sparkle, take your pick.”

“What’s it like?”

Twilight exhaled through drawn lips again. “I have no idea. Worst case scenario? Like Nihilus. I think it wants me to hurt all the ponies who hurt me.”

Now Pinkie Pie had done it; she’d made Twilight think of Nihilus. “I choose Twilight,” she said.

Twilight was a time where the world was not fully light nor dark, a balance stricken between the two. Whether the world was in the process of getting darker or lighter, twilight facilitated the transition. Twilight’s voice wanted to hurt the ponies that harmed her, but the ponies that harmed her were evil. As Luna might say, they needed to die. And even if the voice enjoyed it, it would still be bringing light into the world.

Pinkie Pie did not share why she had chosen Twilight with the other mare. “You can be Sparkle,” she said.

Something sparkled when it emitted light in an irregular fashion. But Pinkie Pie was thinking of one something in particular—a sparkler. A single, bright point of light spawning millions of miniature stars that lasted for less than a heartbeat before going out. A burning smidgen of incandescence that could not help but attract the attention of all, and fill their hearts with warmth. A point that would eventually give way to the darkness, which would in turn give way to twilight.

Pinkie Pie did not share her viewpoint with Sparkle. Unlike the unicorn, she did not feel the need to explain all of her thoughts aloud. She simply cried, “I like sparklers!”

Sparkle looked like she was about to say something flatly, but she was cut short as Sir Unimpressive came through the metal door with a loud clang.

“Hi!” Pinkie greeted him immediately. “I’m Pinkie Pie!”

Unimpressive looked at her as though she was a child. It was a look Pinkie was accustomed to.

Sparkle eyed him with displeasure. “This is a private meeting between myself and a member of my team, Unimpressive.”

Unimpressive looked from Sparkle to Pinkie Pie, nodded once, then sat at the table and pulled out his metal flask. “Noble wants to see you sometime about creating safe pegasus routes. Buttercup has questions for you too. And not her usual kind—actually important questions. Something about the food system. Starlight has picked out a dozen ponies to become officers, and needs you to teach them the layout of the labyrinth. Midnight also had an excuse to spend time with his daughter, but I forgot it.”

Sparkle gritted her teeth. “They can’t wait a single day? Our next meeting is tomorrow.”

Unimpressive grinned. “But the problems are happening right now. Welcome to being in charge, kid. Actually, you’re doing a mighty fine job of it, from what I hear.”

Sparkle groaned and softly beat her head against the table. Unimpressive offered her some whiskey, which she answered with her signature flat look.

“Just trying to help,” Unimpressive said defensively.

“Well you can help,” Twilight said. “Just not me. I want you to teach Pinkie Pie how to bladecast.”

At this, Unimpressive was taken aback. He looked at Sparkle as though she were crazy. “Sure thing,” he drawled. He turned to Pinkie. “First, you take your unicorn magic—oh wait.” He threw his forelegs into the air. “I guess that’s that. Come back when you’ve grown a horn.”

“I meant teach her how to fight bladecasters.”

“You want her to fight bladecasters? What did she ever do to you?”

“Just do it, Unimpressive.”

“Do you have any idea what a trained unicorn is capable of?”

“Do you have any any idea what Pinkie Pie is capable of?”

“Luna fielded me with her two days ago. I’ll admit she’s got skill, but you want to pit metal against magic. This is something you should be doing.”

“It’s not in the cards.”

“You’re going to get your friends killed,” he said airily.

Sparkle was fuming. “Twilight made the same argument, but she was a lot better at it.”

Unimpressive tilted his head to one side. “What?”

Twilight shook her head sharply. “Nothing, just teach Pinkie how to fight a bladecaster.”

“But she’s loonier than a fruitcake!”

This was where Pinkie decided she was needed in the conversation. “There are no loonies in fruitcakes, silly. Only money cakes.”

“You see this? I’m not letting her come at me with sharpened steel.”

“I order you to as your master and commander.”

Unimpressive crossed his arms. “And if I refuse?”

“I’ll tell my mom.”

The knight’s eyes narrowed. “Well played, General,” he said as he rose and screwed the cap back onto his flask. “It would seem you win this round, but the—” Twilight vanished. Unimpressive grumbled something mean about teleporting mares.

Then he turned to Pinkie Pie, who treated him to the largest grin she could manage. Oddly, the expression did not seem to lighten his mood, but rather made him draw back from her slightly.

“So...” he said at length. From the way he let the sentence hang, Pinkie Pie assumed he had forgotten her name. Again.

“I’m Pinkie Pie,” she spouted.

He raised an eyebrow. “I know who you are. You’re the one who likes to bake and make things explode.”

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“This is going to be absolutely excellent.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. Pinkie didn’t understand why.

“Why are there so many ponies watching us?” Pinkie clicked two blades into the mechanisms on her forelegs and willed them to extend.

Unimpressive shot a glance at the blades. “Witnesses,” he said dryly. “Also, they’re new recruits. The appearance of Twilight Sparkle has everypony in the city scrambling to join up. They need to be taught the basics of bladecasting, so Twilight figured they could come watch.”

Pinkie also knew that Twilight wanted them to see her perform feats that defied all logic. Awing them into obedience was part of Twilight’s plan.

“There’s only like ten of you,” Unimpressive called out to the crowd, “so we’ll keep this lecture informal. I am Sir Unimpressive, of the Knights Solaris.”

“I’m Pinkie Pie!”

Unimpressive gave her a sidelong, irritated glance. “This is Pinkie Pie. Do the opposite of whatever she says.”

“Do the opposite of whatever I say!” Let them try to sort that one out.

“Pinkie Pie is one of the five, and I will be teaching her how to fight a bladecaster at Twilight Sparkle’s request. Any questions?”

Everypony present raised a hoof.

“That has to do with bladecasting and not Pinkie Pie.”

Everypony lowered their hoof.

“Right.” Unimpressive’s horn glowed red, and his robe was undone and raised into the air before him. “Bladecasting is as old as Celestia, and if you bladecast, you wear one of these. The robe identifies you to your allies and helps conceal anything you please, such as discs, shards, or whiskey.” He stopped to take a pull from his flask, and the new arrivals seemed somewhat confused. “Black is for teachers, white is for students. Bear in mind that a bladecaster with a white robe is not necessarily a worse bladecaster than one wearing a black. The Cadet can go blade-to-blade with me in a fight, but he wears white.”

A recruit raised a hoof, and Unimpressive jerked his head toward him. “The Cadet?” the recruit asked simply.

“Green fellow. If he has a name, nopony knows it. Also my arch-nemesis.” He took another, smaller pull of whiskey, then wiped his mouth with a hoof. “I hate that guy,” he muttered. “He’s the apprentice to General Esteem,” he said, raising his voice to be heard, “who is the most powerful bladecaster and war unicorn around. If you see the General, you run. Leave him to Luna and the five.”

“That’s me!” Pinkie chirped. “Or, that minus Luna divided by five is me.”

“Anyways, bladecasting. You’ll see underneath the robe I wear a harness. It holds the blade itself. Or rather, the blade fragments. Every unicorn can make and manipulate a blade out of a material related to their special talent. As my special talent is magic, mine is made of meteoric silver.”

Thirteen tiny silver balls detached themselves from Unimpressive’s harness and arced through the air to form a line in front of the unicorn. “Meteoric silver is second only to meteoric platinum in terms of enchantability. Celestia didn’t often drop meteors on Equestria, so this stuff is expensive.”

Pinkie deduced that she was needed. “Everypony say ooooh.”

“Ooooh.”

Unimpressive ignored her. “The average pony can manage about ten or eleven component parts to their blade. I can do thirteen because I’m so impressive.”

“Rarity has fourteen!”

“As does General Esteem.” Unimpressive did not look happy. “Having more components or shards than an opponent gives you a major edge. Every one of these orbs can be infused with any magic I see fit. Together, encapsulated by a single moment field, they form a whole blade—in my case, Vindictive.”

Each of the orbs burst into a burning red light. The lights melded into one another almost instantly, forming a long shaft of glowing crimson. “I can split this into thirteen magical missiles.” He did so. “I can make it hot, make it vibrate, make it deflect all other forms of energy, or just flail it around and use it to cut through things. Bladecasting is about versatility.

“A pony can only ever have one blade, and that blade is something that you ought to name. To enchant a new set of materials for a new blade— something you would do if you wanted more shards— you have to destroy the old one. Alicorns get a good deal; they don’t require material. They can just make their blades out of their own innate magic, which also happens to be even more conducive to enchantment than meteoric platinum.”

Unimpressive harnessed his whiskey and put his robe back on. “But that’s enough theory,” he said. “I imagine most of you are here to see ponies fighting with beam swords, yes?”

“Everypony say you betcha!”

The recruits seemed a little put off. Most of them managed a mumbled, “You betcha?” Pinkie Pie decided that she could grow to like being a teacher’s assistant.

“One more thing before I show you all why unicorns are superior combatants,” he said. “A bladecaster can’t cast their blade unless it’s for a purpose. You have to fight for something, even if this something is just the fight itself. The weak-willed make poor bladecasters. If you can convince an opponent that what they’re fighting for is wrong, you will disarm them—if only for a moment.”

“Beam sword! Beam sword!”

“I’ll make you a deal, Pinkie. I’m not the strongest war unicorn, but I still know some pretty nasty spells. I won’t use any war magic if you don’t use any of your high-powered explosives.”

“Deal.”

“Or medium-powered explosives. In fact, let’s just rule out all forms of explosives.”

This Pinkie Pie had to briefly consider. She noticed most of the new arrivals edging away from them. “Deal.”

Rarity screamed.

It wasn’t a scream of fear, rage, or pain. It was a shout meant to strengthen her blow, an exhalation intended for focus. And strengthen her blow it did— Vorpal collided with Nadir with such force that Luna skidded backwards several feet along the floor.

Rarity did not let up. She disconnected Vorpal’s canvas-covered shards and sent them through the air at the Princess, who intercepted each with a mote of Nadir. The Princess reformed her weapon and took a horizontal swing at Rarity, but she rolled under it and stabbed at Luna with her own newly reformed blade.

Luna was almost as fast as Rainbow Dash, and managed to sidestep the jab in time. Rarity lunged forward, more to avoid Nadir than to close with her enemy, and broke Vorpal once again, sending diamonds whipping through the air.

To her surprise, each collided with a dark blue patch of moment field. Getting Luna to use something other than her blade when practicing was something of a victory for Rarity. Obviously she could never hope to defeat an alicorn in single combat, so any superior bladecasting was rewarded by the Princess’s other capacities. If Luna wanted to, she could simply hit Rarity with more force than the unicorn could handle, but that wouldn’t be very good practice.

Rarity threw herself away from Luna to avoid Nadir once more. She landed on her side and skidded along the dirty stone floor as she called Vorpal’s individual shards to reassemble.

Luna was standing over her in the space of a heartbeat, raising Nadir for a finishing blow. Rarity wouldn’t actually be killed by the strike—if Luna were actually channeling her full power into her blade, Rarity’s flesh would already be rotting off her bones and freezing solid before it hit the floor. Still, it would signify a definite loss for Rarity, an outcome that was no longer acceptable. Not even in training.

She let loose another scream, and caught Nadir with only two of Vorpal’s shards. She could only channel a seventh of her telekinetic muscle through a seventh of her blade, but she wasn’t looking to block the strike head on.

Instead, she threw the remaining twelve diamonds at Luna and used the force of her blow to flip herself back onto her hooves. Luna blocked the diamonds at the last moments with Nadir’s moon motes, then turned and exchanged a lightning-fast series of blows with Rarity.

Rarity was pushing herself to her limit. Beads of sweat were running down her face and her mane was in disarray. She’d been thrown around on the floor several times that morning, and her normally pristine robe was dirty. Her coat was dark in places where she had collected nicks and scrapes from their mock dueling.

None of it mattered, she reminded herself as she threw her god-princess backwards with a well-timed slash and a snarl. Esteem had brushed her offense away with contemptuous ease the last time they dueled. Rarity would make her father take her seriously the next time they met, which meant that in training she needed to give it her all. There was no appearance to maintain, no reason for her to keep up her demure and cultured image. Esteem was the most skilled bladecaster in the world, and an accomplished war unicorn besides.

Twilight wasn’t about to start swinging her magical muscle around, and Titan could apparently show up to ruin Luna’s day at any moment, which left Rarity to keep Esteem’s blade busy. Her technique would need to be perfect to even distract her father.

Luna split and threw Nadir, so Rarity instinctively broke Vorpal and sent each diamond on an intercept course—an easy thing to do when she was using her magical senses. Luna had broken her weapon into fifteen moon motes, so Rarity prepared to roll and avoid one of the incoming projectiles.

The action was unnecessary. Every piece of both Vorpal and Nadir was knocked out of the air by a flash of purple light.

“Now that I have your attention,” said Twilight.

“Sorry about that,” the old Twilight might have said. Or “Pardon me, but—”. General Twilight Sparkle did not ask permission, she gave it. And she certainly didn’t apologize. General Twilight Sparkle simply knocked twenty-nine blade segments out of the air while simultaneously levitating a clipboard and quill as though it were no small feat. It was, in fact, something totally beyond most unicorns.

Twilight did not look like she was handling her new title well. Her mane was in disarray, her coat was matted in places, and she didn’t seem to realize that she hadn’t put down her clipboard yet. Despite this, the ponies that gathered to watch Luna and Rarity train—most of them stallions—were looking at her in awe. She looked left, and the ponies to her left backed up to give her space. She looked right, and the ponies to her right backed up to reveal that she had brought Unimpressive with her.

Rarity was covered in sweat and exhausted, so she removed her robe and tossed it to one of the recruits. “Have this washed,” she said imperiously. She turned to another recruit. “Run me a bath. And you: fetch me some drinking water.”

Rarity was answered with a triple round of “Yes, Dame Rarity.” Power had its privileges.

“Twilight, my dear, you look simply awful. Are you sure there’s no way I can help lighten your load?”

Twilight sighed. “It looks like practicing with Luna is just as exhausting,” she said. “I can manage. I’m here about Pinkie Pie.”

Rarity blinked. “What about her?”

“I’d like you to continue to teach her how to fight a bladecaster.”

“Isn’t that his job?”

“Sir Unimpressive will be training Rainbow Dash from here on out. I finished her weapon this morning.”

Rarity wondered briefly why Twilight was allowed to make Dash a weapon, but she wasn’t allowed to give Twilight a uniform.

“I see,” was all Rarity had to say. Rarity didn’t like the idea of taking time out of her own training to help Pinkie Pie, but Twilight certainly didn’t need the added stress of being disagreed with. She looked ragged enough. “How is she?” she asked Unimpressive.

“Faster than any earthpony has a right to be,” He answered. “Dodges blade-motes so well you’d think she actually could see the future. She overextends and she’s never learned to mind her surroundings. She’ll drink you under the table with sobriety to spare, though I doubt you’ll have that problem, Knight Commander. She isn’t a bladecaster, so you won’t need to change the color of your robe.”

“Thank you, Knight Bachelor, I will be sure to teach her what you have not.” Not having to change the color of her robe was good. Black was too grim for Rarity. Although, she wondered if Luna would have been willing to let her make a robe out of darkness.

“Don’t call me kiddo,” Twilight snapped suddenly. Everypony turned to look at her. Twilight returned their looks sheepishly. “Uh,” she said slowly. “I, um, have to go see Noble about the new pegasi.” There was a purple flash of light, and Twilight vanished.

“Well that was...” Rarity let the sentence hang.

“Yeah,” Unimpressive said. “That’s not the first time that’s happened today. She’s losing it.”

This was bad. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I’m saying something now. Your Twilight is hearing voices. I suggest you find a way to fix her.”

This was bad. “We need to find her again. Find out what’s wrong.”

“No, you need to find her again. I need to train your dysfunctional pegasus.”

“Her name,” Rarity said, growing irritated. “is Rainbow Dash.”

It was a length of metal that she could attach to the back of her armor with no straps or sheath. Dash could employ the same form of magical magnetism to attach the weapon to her hoof, where it would become like an extension of her foreleg. Twilight had taken cues from Rarity’s work and refined the edge to an extremely small number of quanta—which apparently just meant it was very, very sharp. It was one long, continuous piece of single-edged metal, and its form followed a very slight crescent shape. It was a magic sword. Swords were cool.

It wasn’t helping at all.

Dash landed on her back and immediately turned the fall into a roll, throwing herself even farther backwards and flipping back onto her feet. She panted, bringing the blade back up to the ready position that she had been taught.

She had originally despised the idea of the blade, but Twilight—or rather, Astor Coruscare—knew her stuff. The weapon was intuitive and easy to use, promising to save her plenty of time in the field—breaking a puppet’s neck in midair was much harder to do than simply slicing it in two.

“You have anger,” Unimpressive said. “An interesting change of pace from Pinkie Pie.” He levelled Vindictive at her, and its deep red light shone in his eyes. “Anger is useful, but only when you use it, Rainbow Dash. You are letting it use you.”

“Cut the wise-guy act,” Dash said through gritted teeth as she took another swing at the black-robed unicorn. He blocked the strike with ease and forced her away.

“Fine then,” the knight said with a smile. Then, he swung his blade at her again and again, hacking forcibly as though he were wielding an axe. He punctuated each attack with a shout. “Stop! Doing! This!”

Dash batted away the blows with some difficulty then came at him with her own. Immediately, his technique changed to something faster and more fluid, and she found herself with her back to the floor.

“Honestly,” Unimpressive said, “you just swing and swing and swing. No blocks, pivots, hoof positioning, or rolls. No thought as to what comes next. It’s like reading a run-on sentence.”

Dash resisted the urge to throw herself at him again. “You’re supposed to be teaching me,” she managed.

“And the fact that you didn’t just attack me shows that you’re learning. Now get up and I’ll show you how a bladecaster crosses his T's and dots his I’s.” Dash rose, and Unimpressive levelled Vindictive at her once again. He flashed her a wild grin. “You need to learn how to use punctuation.”

Then he came at her, and it was all Dash could do to keep herself on her hooves. Unimpressive was certainly slower than her, but somehow that didn’t seem to matter.

“Remember, if a jab that modifies your stance follows your attack, you need to shift your weight as you strike. You don’t have to ground your hind legs together in these instances.” As Unimpressive spoke, he demonstrated, throwing Dash back with a pair of well-placed blows. “Standalone strikes get solid endings, and you ground your hind legs.” Dash found herself pushing with all her weight against Vindictive, still losing ground.

With a push, he separated them and put Dash against a wall. Then, he blocked her counterstrike and reversed the direction of his blade in midair, forcing her to duck. “If you reverse direction, place your foreleg before you move into the strike, and end the strike with a close-body block, a roll, or a simple jab.” Then Dash was pinned to the wall, a blazing red weapon held to her neck. “Refer to these as examples.”

Dash hated losing, but she had agreed not to use any of her stronger pegasus powers if he didn’t crush her to death with war-spells. It had seemed like a fair idea at the time. “There’s so much to keep track of,” she breathed.

“There is. Which is what you need to practice—you already have a solid technique. Remember that when fighting a bladecaster you just want to distract them with this, and then put them out with your pegasus magic. But they’re going to be throwing spells at you left and right, and if you aren’t paying attention, you die. So ditch the rage.”

Ditch the rage. Dash looked away. “As if it’s that easy.”

At this, Unimpressive laughed, causing a fresh bout of anger to boil in her ears. “Sorry kid, but I think Twilight’s already called dibs on all the mopey angst. You’ll have to find some other angle.” He let her go, and it took an enormous effort of will to not attack him again.

“You don’t even know why I’m angry.”

“No? I figured it had something to do with the fact that you tried to kill your friends during the sack of Ponyville and again in the battle of Cloudsdale, all while under the effects of a spell that doubles as a behavioural conditioner and a method of torture.” Dash looked up, and Unimpressive smiled faintly. “I know more than I let on,” he said.

“You don’t know anything.”

“I know you should probably talk to Twilight Sparkle.”

Fluttershy had been begging her to do the same for almost a week. “That wouldn’t help.”

Unimpressive snorted. “Wouldn’t help you, maybe, but the General of the Armies is currently bordering on insanity, and nopony knows why. You think that the way you’re acting now is the way you should deal with this? Tell me you can look at yourself in a mirror.”

“Shut up.”

“Tell me you can meet your friends’ eyes. Tell me that when you’re out in the field you feel nothing as you tear the puppets apart.”

“Shut up!” Dash lost her cool and swung at the unicorn, fully expecting him to block her swing and taunt her some more.

He didn’t.

Rainbow Dash started to pull her swing too late. She flared her wings and locked up her legs in a desperate attempt to stop her weapon from opening his skull, but met little success. Why didn’t he move?

The combination of Unimpressive’s telekinetic blast and Dash’s extended wings sent her sprawling. Her wings crumpled under her, and the immediate pain told her that she was going to have some nasty bruises. She heard rather than saw the clopping of his hooves as he moved to stand beside her.

“Maybe you think talking to Twilight isn’t the proper course of action,” he said. “But I suggest you do something, because right now it’s plain as day that you can hardly breathe through all your self-loathing. Which tells me that what you’re doing about it right now isn’t working.

“Now get up.”

They were not in the labyrinth. Inner Canterlot sprawled out around them, its closely packed structures looming over them and squeezing any earthbound ponies into a bottleneck. Puppets surrounded them. Puppets everywhere: in the streets, on the roofs, there had to be at least two hundred of them. Just how many puppets could Terra make in a day?

Normally, Dash would not stay to fight the puppets. Normally, she would take to the skies and warn the group of loyalists raiding the cannery that there were enemies closing in. Normally, she would retreat. But with Pinkie Pie at her back, any situation immediately ceased to be normal.

They looked at the circle of constructs surrounding them. Green and blue manes abounded, which meant that the few unicorns were most likely taking shelter inside the surrounding buildings. Dash tapped their connection and drew her own blade as Pinkie Pie drew hers. She decided to let Pinkie Pie lay down the taunt.

Dash had no idea what to call the voice that Pinkie Pie elected to speak with. “Our kung fu is stronger.”

Pinkie Pie was a vibrantly hued whirlwind of destruction, spinning and slashing her way through the puppet ranks with style and panache. Her Pinkie Sense let her dodge most swings with ease, and her blades were now enchanted to slice through puppets as if they were made of paper. She never stopped moving.

Rainbow Dash was a thunderstorm gone to war. Fire burned in her chest and lightning quickened her strikes. Puppets died with a single swipe of her foreleg, a focused flap of her wings, a bolt of thunder drawn from the churning air. She was a force of nature, savagery incarnate, an exemplar of the unbridled primal might that was the birthright of every pegasus, honed by her own brand of mastery.

She ran the back of her weapon through a throat as she crouched low to evade a swing. Her momentum carried the cut forward, and she sliced neatly through a set of pegasus forelegs. Pinkie tumbled over Dash’s back as she lay low, and their positions were reversed. It didn’t matter; thanks to the intuitive bond between the Elements of Harmony, Dash knew exactly what Pinkie did—no extra brainpower required.

She tilted her neck slightly to perfectly evade one of Pinkie Pie’s magically spring-loaded blades, letting it barely brush against her mane before taking an earthpony through the eye. Already moving, Dash slid past the puppet as it dispersed, removing the head of a pegasus as she sprung into the air and kicked the blade back over to Pinkie’s half of the puppets. It struck where Pinkie needed it to, and she reloaded the blade as its victim dispersed.

The puppets were too stupid to keep from coming at them. They crowded in to the point where Dash was taking them out two at a time with swings from her absurdly sharp blade.

This was when Pinkie Pie jumped into Dash’s extended forelegs and, with a boost from Dash, sprang into the air. Dash followed her with two beats of her wings, rushing upward at an alarming rate and grabbing Pinkie before she began to shed her upward acceleration and descend.

She tilted her wings, and the world spun until they were both upside down in midair. It was a fight to stay focused in the midst of all the motion, and Dash had difficulty orienting herself—it seemed for a moment as though she was looking up at the city street and the puppets. She didn’t mind: tumbling through the air at high speeds with no idea of which way she was facing was exhilarating.

Pinkie Pie’s grin told Dash that the pseudo-pegasus felt the same way. As they completed their spin to face downward, she fired away one of her blades and replaced it with a bright red canister. Written in violently yellow-green lettering on the side of the metal container, in a small square of overlapping and disproportional letters that Dash wouldn’t have been able to read if not for their harmonic connection, were the words Pinkie fireball: for use on PuPPets only.

Pinkie fired, and the mechanism that launched her blades tore the cap from the canister and sent it flying downward much faster than they could fall. Though Dash had never seen Pinkie let loose the explosives before, she knew what came next. At least, she thought she did. She had no idea that the fire itself would be pink.

The incendiary detonated in the midst of the constructs with a tremendous roar, and a blossoming cloud of flames spread outward and upward to consume their enemies. Dash spread her wings to slow their fall slightly. As they descended, she beat them once and called the wind, creating a powerful gust to sweep the waning ball of flames outward, where it consumed even more puppets.

She let go of Pinkie Pie, and both of them fell nimbly to the ground where they had stood only moments before. This time, however, there were no puppets nearby—the flames had destroyed dozens of them. The air around them was still hot enough to scorch pony flesh, but Dash endured it unscathed thanks to the Element of Loyalty. Twilight had reshaped it into a red lightning-bolt shaped gem, and it was now affixed to her chest padding. The protective enchantments warded off the heat, among other things.

“That’s hot, Pinkie.” It was true—the air around them was still uncomfortably hot, even if it wasn’t scalding. Dash doubted their armor would have been of any use against the full inferno.

Pinkie Pie stifled a giggle, and Dash gave her an unamused look. “Of course it’s hot,” Pinkie said. “Hot pink!”

Pinkie sense: incoming danger. Dash and Pinkie both shot away from each other with identical rolls to avoid a half-dozen sharpened metal shards, gleaming with the red of a unicorn puppet’s magic.

Pinkie came out of her roll and returned fire with another metal cylinder. Dash watched as it bounced harmlessly off of a magical barrier protecting three unicorn puppets atop a nearby balcony. She guessed that the fireball had drawn them out.

To Dash’s surprise the cylinder exploded shortly after striking the barrier. The majority of the blast was absorbed, and fragments of steel were sent their way. The bits of metal were tiny, and had lost most of their velocity by the time they reached Pinkie and Dash, so they weren’t a threat. The shrapnel bounced harmlessly off of Pinkie’s and Dash’s skin, and Rainbow Dash smiled. As strong as sheet steel, indeed.

Three unicorn puppets, combined with the numerous remaining non-unicorns, were too much for Dash and Pinkie Pie to safely handle on their own. Their armor might let them shrug off most minor blows, but a direct hit from a flying shard would likely kill either them. They weren’t Applejack or Fluttershy.

They couldn’t take the puppets by themselves, which meant they needed help, which meant help was on the way, which mean they only needed to stall. The most effective way to stall, in their collective opinion, was to attack. So they attacked.

The unicorn puppets could not directly affect Dash or Pinkie with their magic, thanks to Twilight’s enchantments. This, combined with their hardened skin, their collective knowledge of the Pinkie sense, and their pegasine senses and reflexes, meant that they could avoid most of the attacks that the unicorns elected to throw their way.

Which they did. The further they were from the unicorns, the more power their enemies would need to use to hurt them. Spells like telekinetic blasts of force lost all viability when they were so far away. Projectiles fired from up close would give Pinkie and Dash much less time to evade than normal. So they kept their distance from the balcony and continued to hew through the grunts on the ground.

For a pony without wings, Pinkie Pie’s speed would have made most pegasi envious. She crossed the scorched and burning cobblestones between them and the earthbound puppets in four strides and a leap, landing with two blades in separate puppets’ eyes. She rode her targets to the ground as they dispersed, transitioning seamlessly into a forward roll.

Pinkie Pie was fast, but Dash, being the fastest pegasus alive, had a certain reputation to uphold. By the time Pinkie Pie had come out of her roll, Dash had blazed a polychrome trail and slid her blade through two more puppets. Pinkie Pie came up beside her and used a charging puppet’s momentum to to fling it onto the wicked point of Dash’s weapon.

Pinkie sense: the building beside them was about to collapse. It was likely the work of the three unicorns. With a single motion, Dash drove her blade through a pegasus’ skull and reattached it to her back.

She threw herself onto her back just as Pinkie Pie jumped to land atop her. Hooves connected with hooves, and Dash once again helped Pinkie use her as a springboard to escape the falling building—which still had yet to start collapsing. After launching Pinkie away and above their earthbound enemies, Dash nimbly flipped back onto her chest and took to the air.

She was not a moment too soon. The structure, which was made of stone and multiple stories tall like almost every other structure in Inner Canterlot, shook and buckled under the power of the unicorns’ spell. It fell in on itself, and several tons of dust and rubble were pushed out into the surrounding streets. By this time, Dash was long gone, having joined Pinkie Pie in facing the three unicorns.

They threw a volley of shards, which Pinkie half-evaded and half-knocked out of the air with her own sharpened steel. Next was a volley of incandescent red magical missiles, but how could the puppets know that both Pinkie and Dash’s weapons could deflect even those?

Still, the earthbound puppets who had not been destroyed by the collapsing structure were closing in behind them, and getting close to the three unicorn puppets was suicide. Soon they would be overwhelmed.

Applejack’s timing could not have been more perfect.

She burst through the wall behind them, sending small pieces of stone showering down to the cobbles beneath her. She was covered in her massive set of armor, and when she landed on the street, the stones beneath her cracked. Dash marvelled for a moment at the sheer amount of momentum one would need to break through a solid stone wall headfirst.

Rarity came in after her—or rather, her weapon did. The three ponies all moved slightly to avoid Vorpal’s glittering diamonds as they shot out from behind Applejack. The unicorn puppets were forced to deflect them or die, and so obviously chose the former. That was all well and good; the diamonds were only a cover for Pinkie Pie’s corded harpoon, which she fired into the stone balcony that the unicorns stood upon.

Rarity gingerly stepped out from behind Applejack, and Dash noticed a diamond-shaped gem gleaming at her throat—the Element of Generosity. Applejack’s armor sported her own Element. With Twilight’s enchantments, their coats deflected shrapnel and splinters as though they were confetti.

“There was a door six feet to our left, Applejack,” Rarity said in her operatic tones. “You actually damaged the door frame as you burst through the wall beside it.”

Their collective consensus was clear: Dash and Pinkie would fend off the mass of constructs coming at them from the street; Rarity and Applejack would take care of the three unicorns. Assist as required.

Pinkie tossed the cord that trailed her harpoon to Applejack as she loaded another blade. Applejack took the length of braided metal, wrapped it around a foreleg, then tugged on it with the strength of a colossus. The entire balcony was torn away from the building just as Dash and Pinkie turned to meet the oncoming throng.

With a beat of her wings, she sent herself somersaulting through the air above the first puppet and slashed downward at its head. It dispersed just as she landed and crouched low to avoid the series of diamonds that Rarity had sent into the group. She had time to come up and drive the back of her blade through an earthpony’s eye, then wrench it out and send the tip into another’s heart. She flipped into the air to avoid the diamonds as they made the return trip, then sent herself downward with a beat of her wings.

As she moved through the space between her and the ground, Dash called the power of lightning.

It was a difficult and somewhat exhausting thing to do, even for a pegasus of her calibre. Still, she wasn’t about to let Rarity come away with more kills than her. As Dash hit the ground, lightning arced out to the half-dozen puppets closest to her with deadly force, and they were all slain instantly.

With a small break in the puppets around her, Dash pumped herself through the air back towards the unicorns. They had all cushioned their fall with magic, and were standing amidst the rubble of the fallen balcony. The puppets had conjured a force field to ward away Applejack’s kick—which had been about as effective as an umbrella in a cyclone. The recoil from their breaking shield had sent the unicorns sprawling. Now it was just a question of how many they could destroy while their defenses were down.

Dash skidded to a perfect stop above one of the three within a heartbeat, then drove the point of her blade through its chin and into its brain. Applejack pulverized a skull, and the stone beneath it, with her brutish strength. Each of them moved as Pinkie Pie, over fifty feet away, vaulted into the air and took a perfectly aimed shot at the third puppet.

The puppet came to just in time to deflect the oncoming blade, and was instead destroyed by the three diamonds that ripped through its neck. Over fifty feet away, Pinkie Pie landed on a quartet of similar gems in midair.

She was brought over the small swarm of puppets and leapt to stand beside her friends as they faced down the diminished group of enemies. Rainbow Dash twirled her weapon in anticipation. Applejack ran a hoof along the brim of her stetson. Pinkie Pie brandished her loaded forelegs. Rarity blew an errant strand of mane out of her eyes as Vorpal reassembled beside her and was levelled at the oncoming horde. Not a single one of them needed to speak a word. They all knew that they were thinking the same thing:

This was hardly fair.

“Rainbow Dash,” Applejack said once they were deep beneath Canterlot and heading back to their rooms.

“What’s up, AJ?”

Applejack stopped, and Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, and Fluttershy—they had met up with her at the cannery—all stopped with her. “We need to talk, Dash.”

Dash wasn’t much for uncomfortable conversation topics. But then, who was? “What?”

“It’s about Twilight, sugarcube.”

Of course it was. “We aren’t having this conversation.” She made to move past Applejack, but the earthpony blocked her way.

“We don’t know exactly what went on between you and Nihilus, and we don’t need to. But Twilight—”

“I said,” Dash said angrily, “We aren’t. Having. This. Conversation.” She gave Applejack a shove, but her obstinate friend didn’t move an inch.

“You aren’t okay, Dash! You hardly talk at all anymore and you’ve been avoiding Twi like the plague. You get so into fighting the puppets it’s like—”

“I like it?” Dash looked into Applejack’s eyes, challenging her.

“Like you’ve got something to prove.”

“Forget it, AJ. I’m fine. I don’t need—”

Fluttershy pushed her way in between Applejack and Dash and looked the pegasus in the eye. “She needs you.” Dash was shocked to see that Fluttershy looked almost... angry?

“She’s talking to herself. Hearing voices. She doesn’t get any sleep at night and she’s avoiding the parents who she thought she was never going to see again. The last time any of us spoke to her was two days ago. She won’t listen to us, Dash. And you understand better than anypony here what’s wrong.”

Dash backed away. “None of you understand.”

“Ah understand,” Applejack said, raising her voice. “That you aren’t helping a friend in need.”

A friend? Hardly. Dash took another step back. “You guys can’t ask me to do this. This isn’t fair!”

“It isn’t,” Rarity said quietly into her ear. “It isn’t fair that the remains of my life’s work and my only home lie rotting in Ponyville.”

Fluttershy still looked angry. “It isn’t fair that I haven’t cared for a creature in over two weeks.”

Applejack was next. “It ain’t fair that Ah haven’t seen my family since the day Ah almost died.”

“If they know who we are,” Pinkie Pie said somberly, “how do we know any of us will have homes to go back to?”

“We’re supposed to save the world,” Rarity said. “But I think Nihilus got something right—Twilight is what leads us to victory every time. Twilight is our power. And Twilight is killing herself. She needs you, Rainbow Dash, and we need her.”

Rainbow Dash quivered and backed against the wall. “I...” She couldn’t possibly talk to Twilight. Twilight knew. But if she really was Twilight’s only hope...

Dash’s next words came out as a whimper. “I’ll do it.”

She found Twilight in a smaller room nestled in the corridors between their quarters and the mess. Apparently, Twilight had not actually been sleeping in the room she shared with Fluttershy for the past two nights. Normally the expansive maze would have made the unicorn impossible to find, but Dash could just tap Twilight Sparkle through their harmonic connection and learn not only her location, but the exact layout of the maze around her. It made the endless hours she had spent memorizing the layout of the thing with Pinkie Pie redundant.

Getting Twilight to actually stay and talk to them for more than a couple seconds was apparently something her friends could no longer do. What was worse, they still had no idea what was driving the mare to act so strangely. Dash hoped that Twilight would stick around and listen to her, even if it meant having the conversation that she had been dreading. Twilight knew.

Like every one of the Labyrinth’s original doors, the one leading to Twilight’s hideout was made of metal. As Dash approached it, she heard a single voice coming from inside. Twilight was talking to somepony.

“No, no! My name is Twilight Sparkle. I am Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight was practically shouting, and sounded extremely distressed. Whoever was in the room with her, they were making her upset. Could it be her parents? Fluttershy had said she was avoiding them. Luna? Luna could certainly be... distressing.

“Stop it!” Twilight cried suddenly. “No no no no!”

Dash burst through the door without a second thought. The room inside was small, and sported little furnishings other than the standard table, fireplace and magelights. Twilight stood in the center of the room, her back to Dash, looking over a half-dozen maps strewn across the tiny worktable. She was alone.

“You just want me to kill them,” she said to herself. “You’d just kill them all with a smile on your face. You aren’t Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight had not even noticed Dash’s entrance. Her mane, which was normally straight as a razor blade, was a tangled mess of stiff locks springing out in all different directions. Her coat was matted and unkempt. As Dash watched, Twilight stomped a hoof against the table and began to shout.

“Don’t. Call. Me. Kiddo!” As she spoke, every magelight in the room dimmed and the fire burning in the fireplace turned purple.

“Twilight?”

Twilight’s head snapped around and she locked eyes with Dash, and the lights in the room slowly returned to normal. The skin around her eyes was pink and puffy, giving her the appearance of somepony who had recently been crying. Twilight didn’t say anything.

Dash didn’t say anything either. What was there to say? The silence hung between them, suffocatingly oppressing. Dash had to say something, anything:

“Are you okay?”

Slowly, Twilight raised an eyebrow.

Dash shifted uncomfortably under Twilight’s gaze. She knew. “I uh, I guess not, huh?”

“What gave you that idea?”

Sarcasm was good. At least, Dash thought sarcasm was good. Twilight might be willing to talk. Now what?

“You were talking to yourself.”

Twilight snorted. “Tell me about it. I can see why she had so much trouble.”

She wasn’t giving Dash much to work with. “Why who had so much much trouble?”

Twilight cocked her head to one side. “Nihilus, of course. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

She knew. “No! I mean, I’m just here to... to...” Dash struggled with the words.

“To help me.”

“Yeah.” Now that she said it, it seemed rather weak.

“No need to worry,” Twilight said, “I’ll be fine.” She turned back to her table. “You can go now.”

“You aren’t fine! You’re hiding from your friends and your parents so you can scream at yourself!”

“I told you,” Twilight snapped, “I didn’t mean to say those things out loud. And it’s clear to me that I can’t hide from my friends even if I want to.”

“But why are you hiding from them?”

“Them?”

At this, Dash’s heart sank. “I meant—”

“That you and I aren’t friends. I may be a bit thick when it comes to communicating with other ponies, but I got that message, Dash.”

Dash gritted her teeth. Why was Twilight being so difficult? “This isn’t about you and I,” she said.

“It’s just about me. Everyone else has failed so now you’re the only pony left to fix me. Because as has become increasingly apparent, I’m broken.”

“I—” Dash was tired of being evasive. “That is exactly what this is about.”

Twilight seemed a little taken aback. “Is it now?”

“Rarity thinks you can’t handle seeing how much your mother has changed. Applejack thinks the stress of being in charge has gotten to you. Fluttershy thinks you’re afraid of becoming like Nihilus. Pinkie Pie won’t call you anything but Sparkle and insists that you’re two minds in one body—which almost makes sense after seeing you scream at yourself.”

“And what do you think, Rainbow Dash?”

Dash had to stop and think about her question. “I... don’t know,” she finished weakly. “We haven’t really talked since the night before you went to see Celestia.” Dash didn’t even remember what they had talked about. It hadn’t seemed like an important conversation at the time.

Twilight turned back to the table and spoke to the empty room before her. “Rarity is right. My mother used to sing me to sleep and tuck me in at night. It made me feel safe. Now she tells me that if anything tries to hurt me again, she’ll...” Twilight sighed. “It doesn’t make me feel safe.

“Applejack is also right. The recruitment initiatives were an overwhelming success. Just like everything else I’ve done since I got here. There are now over a thousand ponies looking to me for leadership. Everypony comes to me when something goes wrong. The workload is overwhelming, and there’s nopony that I can go to who will help me solve my problems—I’m the top of the pyramid. I got a good night’s sleep last night, and it was my first in over a week. You know how I managed it? I made a spell to knock a pony unconscious instantly, then cast it on myself.

“Fluttershy is right, too, but I don’t think you need me to elaborate as to why. I lived with every action Nihilus took, and every twisted thought behind them. I became much more like her than anypony is willing to believe, in the end.”

“You aren’t like her,” Dash said somberly.

“That’s the thing, Dash—Pinkie Pie is more right than any of them. I didn’t want to believe it at first, couldn’t face the fact that I wasn’t who I claimed to be. That’s when I started hearing voices. Twilight, whispering in my ear from the back of my brain. At first she’d help me with magic. Help me focus. But I’m keeping her down. She wants out, and I won’t let her out.”

Dash took a step from Twilight as a feeling of dread began to eat away at her insides. “What are you talking about, Twilight?”

“That’s who I’m talking to, Rainbow Dash. My darker half. That’s why I can’t talk to my parents or my friends. Because they think that I’m somepony I’m not. Because I’m keeping a terrible secret.”

“Twilight?”

Twilight turned to face and breathed out a single sentence:

“I am not Twilight Sparkle.”

Nihilus leaned down, placing her muzzle next to Dash’s ear. “I was counting on you to be too stupid to realize that little fact before it was too late,” she whispered. “And lo and behold, you did not fail to disappoint.” She slowly drew her horn down along Dash’s neck and brought the point to rest directly against the center of her chest. “No, you imbecilic little fool.” Her voice had become a hiss.

“I am not Twilight Sparkle.”

Dash had crossed the room, kicked out the unicorn’s legs, and pinned her to the floor in a heartbeat. The edge of her blade dug into the groove of the unicorn’s chin, and she kept a close watch on her horn, ready to respond to even the tiniest flash of magic.

“Dash?” the unicorn looked up at her with an expression of pure terror, and Dash was forced to acknowledge one simple fact: this was Twilight. Or at least, it certainly wasn’t Nihilus. And Dash had stopped just shy of killing her.

Dash recoiled immediately, dropping the blade that Twilight had made her to the floor with a clatter. “I...” She began. But what could she say?

There were tears in Twilight’s eyes. Dash had made her cry. “I’m sorry,” she said weakly.

Twilight picked herself up off the floor. “It’s okay.” she said. “Poor choice of words.”

“It isn’t okay,” Dash said. “It was wrong.”

When Twilight spoke it was barely a whisper. “I was wondering when you were going to bring her up.”

Dash didn’t want to talk about Wrong. “You don’t have to say it like that,” she said. “I know you know.”

Twilight cocked her head again. “Know what?”

Dash had to sit down. Had it really never occurred to Twilight? “I am Wrong. Or at least I was. They all think that her spell made me into something I’m not, but the truth is...” Dash swallowed. “The truth is that I did it all myself. I tried to stop, I really did, but I couldn’t fight it. Wrong was just a name I gave myself so that I could feel less of the pain. I hated every one of you. I tried to kill Applejack andFluttershy. There isn’t anything I did as Wrong that I’m not capable of doing now. The spell just helped me along.”

“Is that why you won’t talk to me? Why you barely talk to anyone else?”

“I don’t talk to anypony else because they all think I was a victim, like you. They think that the spell was something I overcame at the last minute to save everyone. The truth is that Fluttershy broke it as I willingly choked the life out of her. And I’m the Element of Loyalty.”

Now Dash couldn’t look at Twilight. “I don’t talk to you,” she said quietly, “because every time I hear your voice I want to get down on my knees and lick the dirt from your hooves. I learned early on to do what she wanted me to. Do you have any idea what it’s like for a pony like me to feel that way? Every time I see you I want to follow your every command, and I hate myself for it. I hate myself so much I can hardly breathe.”

“You couldn’t have resisted that spell, Rainbow Dash.”

“I’m the Element of Loyalty!”

“Which is exactly why she came for you first! Most unicorns aren’t even capable of the kind of power that spell requires. She hit you with over four times the amount of energy the template calls for. That you broke free with the ability to form coherent sentences is astounding, let alone beat Nihilus half to death!”

“Somehow that doesn’t cheer me up.”

“Well it should. Ponies choose who they are, Dash. The spell she used took that choice away from you. Anypony would have done what you did.”

“That still doesn’t change the fact that I remember everything I did. That I know what I’m capable of. That I want to beg and scrape every time I hear your voice.”

“I’m sorry, Dash. I can’t change that.”

Then Rainbow Dash got an idea. “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes you can.” She looked up at Twilight, who was already backing away from her.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t.”

“You can take my memories, can’t you?! You could make all of this go away.” Dash began to step towards her.

“No, Rainbow Dash. You’d become an abomination.”

“I’m an abomination now!” she shrieked.

“I can’t!”

“Yes you can!”

“I won’t!”

“Why not?!”

“You don’t know what it’s like for me!” Twilight cried. “I see magic in everything. It’s like a second language to me—one that the world never stops speaking. Other ponies see the formulae and the numbers and the symbols but they miss the intrinsic beauty of it all! Magic is a force of life, not just a tool to be used. The very nature of the power that I wield cries out for the goodness in ponykind, cries out with the need to create, to improve the lives of us all.

“I am not Astor Coruscare. I am not General Esteem. I am not the tool that Celestia wants me to be. I cannot in good conscience take up the power to destroy, Rainbow Dash, not even if you think it could heal you. To do so would go against everything I believe in.”

“And that voice in the back of your head?”

“Don’t.”

“What does it believe in? You said yourself that ponies get to choose who they are.”

“It’s no better than her, Dash. You haven’t heard the things it says.”

“No better than her? You’re the one taking away free will. You’re the one who’s no better.”

“Dash, please.”

“Ponies get to choose who they are? Then let me choose this. Take it away, Twilight. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

“I can’t!”

“You won’t. But I wasn’t asking you. I was asking Twilight Sparkle. You’re locking part of yourself away because you’re afraid of it. You’re fighting yourself, and now you’re turning your back on me. You aren’t Twilight Sparkle. You’re a hypocrite.”

The unicorn’s eyes filled with tears, and before Dash could get another word in, she disappeared.

Rainbow Dash ran to the spot that Twilight had occupied only moments before. “Come back here!” she screamed. “Coward!” She flipped the table and watched all of Twilight’s precious maps scatter. “Coward!” Before the table hit the ground, she struck it with a hoof and it exploded into splinters.

Only then did she realize that her task had been to help Twilight, not herself. Of course Twilight wasn’t acting like Twilight—that was why Dash had come to her in the first place. And she had failed.

“Well,” Dash muttered to herself amidst the ruins of the broken table. “That went well.”

“I am not Twilight Sparkle. Classic.”

“I needed to get her off the subject of me and onto the subject of Wrong.”

“Because you wanted to help her, or because you can’t bear to think about me?”

“Both,” Sparkle found herself admitting. “You know I can’t lie to myself.”

“You can’t do anything,” Twilight retorted. “That’s the problem.”

“I’ve done things!” she said defensively. “I organized and recruited eight hundred ponies!”

“Twilight Sparkle could have done that without going insane, and helped her friends in the field besides.”

“I won’t set you loose.”

“Because of some twisted sense of self-preservation!”

“Because you’re a monster!”

“I am!” Twilight declared. “But both of us together wouldn’t be! Your compassion, my brutality! Your brilliance, my pride! Your logical approach combined with my cold-heartedness would mean we would be a pony who could do what needed to be done. We wouldn’t suffer from guilt or ideals as we gave Esteem his comeuppance. We would be Twilight Sparkle. We would be perfect. We would be unstoppable.”

“Listen to yourself! The old Twilight Sparkle would never—”

“The old Twilight Sparkle is dead, and the new one never woke up. You know what she was capable of by the time Nihilus died.”

“She didn’t want to be that pony. She put you away.”

“But would she still do that now? Why don’t you come over here and we’ll find out?”

Sparkle—just Sparkle—rubbed her temple with a hoof. The Twilight Sparkle who wrote Princess Celestia weekly letters and learned about the magic of friendship was not a thing of the past. That Twilight Sparkle would live on through her while the monster she had become would remain locked away. She’d rather let Twilight drive her insane than succumb and become who knows what kind of pony.

“Are you going to say something?” Unimpressive asked slowly. “You just kind of popped in and started staring at the wall.”

Sparkle looked around to find herself in the war room. Was that where she had teleported herself to? Unimpressive was the only pony present. “Why are you here?”

“I’m meeting your mother to discuss two of our magical recruits,” he said. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t know,” she said dumbly, “this is just where I aimed, I guess.”

“You look like trash,” Unimpressive remarked. “Your mom’s going to flip.”

“You aren’t going to ask me if I’m okay?”

He laughed. “What kind of a stupid question would that be? You obviously aren’t.”

Sparkle shut her eyes. “I should go.”

It was then that her friends burst one of the metal doors and trampled into the room. Sparkle immediately considered teleporting away, but stopped when she saw the looks on their faces—not concern or anger, but panic. She noticed one of them was missing.

“Where’s Applejack?”

“Holding them off,” Fluttershy answered through labored breaths.

“Holding who off?

“They’re here, Twilight. Puppets, in the tunnels. South and southwest.”

“They know where we are,” Sparkle said softly. “We have to get everypony out.”

There was a blinding purple flash, and Twilight’s mother appeared beside her. She took the room in at a glance.

She was covered in blood.

“We’re under attack,” she said to Sparkle. “The north and east are crawling with royals.”

Sparkle wasn’t supposed to give orders in battle. “Where’s Luna?”

“In the field,” Unimpressive said. “Above ground.”

This was bad. Sparkle couldn’t handle working under pressure. “We need to use the southwestern,” she said, doing her best to sound authoritative.

“It’s collapsed,” said the voice of her father. Of course he was coming. He’d just had to run all the way here.

Midnight joined their group. “So is eastern and northeastern. And the two passages between quarters and mess.”

“What does that leave?” Unimpressive asked. Everypony turned to Sparkle. She knew the Canterlot labyrinth by heart.

Except that was the problem. “Nothing,” she said numbly. “It leaves nothing. We’re trapped.”

-

Need to contact me for any reason? AestheticBrony@gmail.com!

Thanks to Vimbert: A man measured as a colossus, towering above the enemies of fan-fiction

The Battle of Canterlot

The Battle of Canterlot

Being woken from the enchanted slumber was not the same as being woken from a regular night of sleep. Rather, Celestia felt as though she were slowly being drawn out of a vat of warm water. Starting with her legs, a strange sensation of bareness came over her, and she immediately felt exposed and cold. It was a pity. The magical sleep had been rather nice.

“Good morning, Sunshine.” Terra had been the one to wake her, just as Terra had been the one to put her to sleep.

“Don’t call me Sunshine,” Celestia said reflexively. “And it’s evening.”

Terra cocked her head. “How do you know it’s evening?”

“There’s a window behind you.”

“Ah. Of course. Can I get you anything to eat? You look positively skeletal, Sunshine.”

“What’s got you being so nice?”

Terra held a hoof to her chest. “A mother can’t show concern for her daughter?” Celestia was in no mood for games, and let it show on her face. “Oh, fine. We are soon to be allies, you and I.”

Terra had said that she would never help Celestia, and that could mean only one thing. “I don’t get a choice in the matter?” Celestia would love to see Titan try to meddle around in her mind.

“Of course you do, Sunshine! You can choose to do as he says now, or do as he says next time he asks.” Terra leaned down to place her muzzle next to Celestia’s ear. “I would advise,” she whispered, “selection of the former.”

The blissful feeling of the magical sleep was wearing away, and Celestia’s legs began to ache. “And if I don’t?”

“Then you lose the chance to save what you love dearest, and he’ll make you watch as I strike them down once again.”

“You’d cull the population.”

“With extreme prejudice. You don’t want that, now do you?”

“You want to know what I want?” Celestia said as the pain overrode her better judgement. “I want my godhood back, just for ten minutes. So I could spend them with you, mom.”

“I suppose Empyrean is stronger than me. Though you didn’t grow up in the world I did, Sunshine. I know something about killing.” She lifted her head. “He’s ready.”

Celestia, who had no working legs, was lifted telekinetically and levitated through the air. She noticed that Terra was being uncharacteristically gentle. She was even set down softly when they reached the entrance to the dilapidated castle’s courtyard. There, she managed to prop herself up into a position that caused little pain if she balanced herself properly.

Titan sat before her in the center of the room, wearing his characteristic expressionless mask. The first thing Celestia noticed about him was how large he seemed now that she was the size of an average pony. The second was the oppressive sense of presence he exuded now that she no longer had alicorn magic to counteract it. As always, Celestia wondered if his presence was a technique unique to Titan, like Terra’s singing. It was easy to pass all of her father’s abilities off as the result of his age, but she knew that Titan must have some talent, some dominion of his own. She doubted that it was everything in existence, like he claimed.

“Go to him, daughter,” Terra commanded.

Titan took one look at Terra. “Leave us,” he said. Terra left without a word.

It took a significant amount of willpower on Celestia’s part not to give in to her instincts and try to cover her single ear. His voice was like an apocalypse held in a whisper. Was this how Titan always sounded to non-alicorns?

Celestia had to decide whether or not she would obey her mother. She had no working legs, and she certainly did not want to push herself across the floor. But she also didn’t want to sit obstinately in place like a child refusing to go to bed when asked. Ultimately, her goal was to get as much information as possible, which meant that for now she would need to play into her father’s infantile attempt to humiliate her.

She eased herself forward and began to half-push, half-pull her way to her father. She held her head just above the floor, and her mane dragged along the partially overgrown courtyard.

“All rise,” Titan said. Celestia had to suppress another shudder. “For Princess Celestia. The Second Sister and the ruler of ponykind.”

Second Sister? Since when had that been one of her titles? And since when did Titan think her second to Luna? She continued to struggle across the floor.

“Born of the World and the Rule. Gifted with the Sun and the Mind.”

Celestia made it to Titan and slowly began to prop herself up again. Her father kept going.

“Former General of the King’s armies and Grand Adjudicator of the Law.”

Celestia barely remembered the position as Adjudicator. It had been a while.

Titan looked around at the crumbling palace, and when he spoke, his voice had taken on some semblance of normalcy. “Gaze upon the kingdom you have bought for yourself, daughter. Upon the greatness you have achieved. At the masses who come to worship their princess.”

Celestia smiled faintly. “There is more here for me than you have ever held in your life, Titan.”

Titan tilted his head to the side only slightly. “Explain.”

“I abandoned this palace so long ago. It reminded me of Luna, and the corruption from your prison in the Dark Heart had almost reached us. We moved, but I’ll never forget some of the ponies who grew up right here in this room. I used to do marriages in here, too, you know. We’d take out the glass in the windows so that the songbirds could come and go freely.” She looked her father in the eyes. “You say I have achieved no greatness,” she said. “But I gave them a thousand years of prosperity. Of paradise. Any boast you make will pale in comparison.”

“You are deluded,” he countered levelly. “A defeated god trying to consolidate your loss by convincing yourself that it had value. The happiness of our ponies is nothing. They are dust now, or will become dust within the next century. I have beaten you.”

Celestia did not pay any heed to his words. “The game is not over yet, Titan.”

“When I first spoke with you upon my return, do you remember what I said?”

She knew which sentence he was referring to, despite the fact that upon his return he had run his mouth for nearly ten minutes. “Let’s not do this.”

“And here we are,” Titan said.

Celestia smiled teasingly. “That was almost conversational, father! I didn’t know you could be so loose.”

“Indeed,” he replied. “I had to decide on what my approach would be when speaking with you. General Esteem is best moved through shameless boasts. Your sister is angered by being reminded of our rightful place and legacy. Your student’s shadow was a simple thing—the focus of our talks was always power. Terra will do as I say unquestioningly so long as I treat her as a confidante, though I admit she manipulates me just as much by allowing me to be so permissive.”

“I’m sure your range of roles is very diverse.”

“It is not. Still, the subtleties are everything, in the end. With you, I think I will forgo intentional manipulation and speak candidly.”

“Which is in itself just another form of manipulation. I will not let my guard down, Titan.”

Titan gave an imperceptible nod. “I imagined you wouldn’t. I also imagine that you are going to refuse my offer.”

“Why would you need me in the first place?”

He pursed his lips, obviously debating whether or not to give her the information they both knew she was after. “Ponykind still resists,” he said. “Eradicating the rebels now could make them even more restless—they have never been predictable. If they grow more restless, I will have to give Terra the order to strike them down. You will give prevent this by giving Empyrean council. You will have no other duties.”

“You were right,” Celestia said dryly. “I refuse. I’m surprised at your insight. It’s almost as if a month of living with your wife while you oppressed my people made me dislike you. Or perhaps it was the time you engineered my escape just so you could recapture me to feel smarter than I am for once. Though it might also be the time you took the mare I love like a daughter and put her through a fate worse than death.”

“I never understood why you love them so much. You care for this Twilight Sparkle but you will sit idly by as her entire species brings ruin upon itself. You claim to work in their best interests and yet you use them as a weapon against me even now.”

Celestia was getting tired of her father. “You claim you want me to pacify them, but we both know that if you really needed my help, you’d be too ashamed to ask. This is about your pride, Titan. You can’t stand the idea that after all you’ve put me through I still won’t be your daughter. Calamity, Titan. Are you truly so infantile?”

Titan’s eyes narrowed. “I will brook no more insults, girl. You will do as I tell you or suffer the consequences.”

Celestia barked out a laugh. “Consequences? What part of the past month makes you—”

“I will kill Twilight Sparkle.”

Celestia stopped.

“She has been leading the rebellion from your underground labyrinth for the better part of two weeks. It was difficult to find her because of her ability to teleport. Eventually I tracked her down and blanketed the area in a spell to keep her from doing just that.”

“You lie.”

“It is interesting, Celestia. You taught this girl to take your place in the eyes of ponykind, but I have seen her give orders to her troops—she is a mediocre commander. I know that Nihilus wielded the power to destroy, but this Twilight has eschewed combat of all kinds. You have placed your ponies in the hooves of an incompetent pacifist.”

Titan could have learned about Twilight from Nihilus. He was obviously just trying to get to her. The King could not be in two places at once. Could he?

“General Esteem and I have been killing your little ponies since before you entered this room, Celestia. Your flaw is that you attempt to play the player, not the board. Nothing you could have said to me here could have prevented the collapse of your little rebellion.”

“I have no reason to believe you.”

“And yet you must. I have cornered your pupil in a one story wooden structure that faces a fountain shaped as three pegasi dancing. She is pinned to a wall, speaking to herself in a way that is almost a desperate prayer. Your name has come up.”

Celestia knew the building. “I still have no reason to believe you.”

“You composed a magelight spell with her on her twelfth birthday. Shall I continue?”

A stone weight settled at the pit of Celestia’s stomach. “Yes.”

“You took her to the Canterlot hedge maze her first Nightmare Night in the city.”

“What happened to her first copy of Advanced Alchemy?”

A pause. “Spike sent you half the pages.”

A horrible thought occurred to Celestia. “How are you learning these things?”

“I am causing her pain.”

“Stop!”

“I have. She has not called your name many times, Celestia, but it is evident that she wishes for you to save her. Is that not what you want as well? To commit divine intervention and save the ponies you love? I am giving you that opportunity—you need only agree to serve me. Only two moves exist before you. Both lead to the conclusion of the immortal game.”

Wrong, Titan. Celestia hung her head and gritted her teeth. “I accept,” she whispered weakly.

Titan cocked his head to one side. “A lie,” he said simply. “I did not truly believe you would submit so early, but I was hopeful.”

“No! Father, I—”

“You are no alicorn, girl. You can deceive me no longer. This was more a lesson than an offer. You failed, but you will learn. And now,” he said, his voice once again taking on his godhood, “Twilight Sparkle will die.”

Sparkle didn’t know what to do.

They were surrounded. Trapped beneath Canterlot by who knew how many puppets and royals. They needed to escape, but how?

Twilight was quick to answer. “We fight our way out, of course. Maybe we’ll find Esteem on the way.”

Sparkle ignored her. “Applejack is holding them off.” She said. “Where?”

“South,” Dash answered immediately. “She’s doing well so far. Can’t you feel her?”

“We can collapse southwest on a whole lot of enemies.”

The idea was appalling. Although...

“We fight them out through the south,” Sparkle said as her plan took form. “Rarity, Pinkie Pie—find Applejack. Pinkie, give Dash two of your orange capsules. Dash, you need to get through southwest as fast as you possibly can and use them to collapse the tunnel from the entrance. Then you find Luna and bring her back, understand?” Dash nodded grimly.

“Mom. You and dad will hold the northeast. Don’t try to push them out—just keep them back and tell any of our ponies coming your way to either help you or head for the south. Same goes for Fluttershy and Unimpressive but with the east. Understand? When everypony is out, I’ll come back for you.”

“What will you be doing?” Her father asked.

“I’ll be leading everypony out and sending you reinforcements. Most of us won’t even know we’re under attack yet.”

“What about the puppets and royals who are already inside?”

“Most of our ponies know how to defend themselves. They’ll have to...” Sparkle gulped. “Make do. Any other questions?”

“Why do I get Fluttershy?”

“This is no time for—” Sparkle stopped. “Just go! All of you go! We’re running out of time!” After a short pause in which nopony said anything, they went. All of them except her father.

“We love you, Twilight. Your mother too. You know that, right?”

“You aren’t his daughter.”

“I know, dad.”

“Stay safe, Twilight.” He left, leaving her alone. Or rather, as alone as Sparkle could get.

“We should be killing.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“It is your very nature to disagree with me, Sparkle, so try to think about this logically for once. If we can kill the General here, today, the Royal Army will collapse. Nothing will stand between us and the gods. The purpose of the loyalists will have been fulfilled.”

“And they’ll die by the hundreds.”

“Then make a compromise with me. If you fight you will save lives!”

“You know I can’t.”

“You can’t do anything. How many innocent lives are going to pay for your ideals?”

One way or another, they were about to find out.

Esteem waited.

He didn’t even have to enter the tunnels themselves—a foolish idea anyway, considering they could be collapsed. Instead he could just stand in the entrance to the labyrinth, watching his forces push forward. He had brought puppets with him, but their presence was redundant: he wouldn’t need any help. Not for this. The majority of his forces were above ground, dealing with the rebels the Princess had taken out for a raid. Waiting for Luna to show herself had been essential—Titan would be keeping her occupied.

He waited, and he waited, and eventually the sounds of battle grew closer. As planned, somepony was pushing his troops back. Unbeknownst to his opponent, they were coming straight for the General himself. He wondered which of the loyalist heroes it would be. The best he could hope for was Twilight Sparkle herself—the worst, somepony who wasn’t one of Rarity’s friends at all.

While Esteem was glad when it was indeed one of Rarity’s friends who showed up, he couldn’t help but be a little disappointed as well. He had looked forward to a pitched battle against a skilled opponent fighting desperately for their life. He’d gotten Applejack. An earthpony.

He was made aware of her presence when a puppet burst against the far wall of the hallway. Moments later, Applejack rounded the corner and came into view, her polished red armor offset by the ragged brown stetson atop her head, but complimented by the gleaming orange gem at her throat.

“Lieutenant Applejack,” he greeted her. Truthfully he had no idea what her title was, but Twilight Sparkle was a general, and Applejack was her second-in-command. Lieutenant seemed to make the most sense.

Applejack looked him over, and Esteem was put off by how little fear he saw in her eyes. Didn’t she know who he was?

“Just Applejack,” she said. “You Esteem?”

Apparently she did know. “Sir General Esteem,” he corrected. “Titles are imp—”

“Titles don’t mean bull,” Applejack interrupted him bluntly. “You Rarity’s dad?”

Esteem considered readying a set of war-spells, but decided not to. He would most definitely use Carsomyr for this. “I am.”

Applejack nodded, as if considering this a moment. “Ah know a general and a knight, Esteem. And you’re just a jackass.”

He blitzed through the space between them, crossing the passageway to stop beside Applejack in an exhilarating heartbeat. There, he drew the fragments of Carsomyr out from under his robe and assembled them. Magic sealed the fragments along their fractures as Esteem brought the blade downward, where Applejack caught it with—

Her hooves?

It wasn’t possible. Granted, Applejack was armored, but Carsomyr could quite literally cut through anything non-magical. And just how strong was Applejack that she could stop his blade midair with only the strength in her forelegs? Esteem could swing Carsomyr with enough magical might to shatter a boulder.

His thought process was interrupted as Applejack threw her weight against Carsomyr and sent him flying through the air. He flew incredibly far before landing on his side and immediately throwing himself into a roll. The roll saved his life—as he came to his feet, Applejack’s hooves shattered the stone floor he had occupied seconds beforehand.

It seemed that Applejack, despite being an earthpony, was not to be toyed with. It was time to take things seriously.

First, he cast a spell to decrease the traction of the floor that Applejack stood on. Then, he struck her with a pinpoint of telekinesis, sending her sprawling. He leapt towards her as he abolished his friction spell and liquefied the stone beneath her. Applejack struggled, and Esteem had to solidify the stonework before she broke free. His quarry, half-encased in stone, looked up at him as he drove Carsomyr into her chest.

It was not easy. Punching a hole in her warplate was hard enough, but underneath it her flesh may as well have been made of steel. Still, when Esteem drew his blade out of the earthpony’s chest, it was covered in blood.

It was also missing a piece. Applejack made what sounded like a mix between a grunt and a cough as the chevron-shaped point shard worked its way through her insides. Blood ran down her chin.

“Painful, isn’t it? This particular form of execution was taught to me by a griffin. A little brutish, the griffins, but then they don’t have our pantheon. On the plus side, they taste delicious.”

Applejack’s entrance wound had already closed. She was a powerful earthpony indeed—Esteem had never seen such fast regeneration. He looked down at her, contemplating the pony before him.

“I wonder,” he stated, more to himself than to the earthpony. “Why would Rarity choose to surround herself with ponies like you? Where did I go wrong?” He jerked the shard upward, and Applejack jerked with it, stifling a scream. The stone encasing her buckled and cracked.

She gritted her teeth and met his eyes. “You don’t know a thing—ugh—about family.”

Esteem claimed even more of her internals, and Applejack wedged her eyes shut. “You would have had me raise my daughter differently?”

“No.”

At this Esteem raised an eyebrow. Not just at the statement, but at the fact that the mare could still speak through the pain. “Do explain, lieutenant.”

“Rarity is one of the—augh!”

“I’m still listening.”

“—The best friends a pony could ask for. You were a part of that, even if you are—ah!—a jackass. The problem ain’t her. It’s you.”

Esteem ripped the shard out of Applejack’s body and raised his blade for the kill. No matter how powerful the earthpony, decapitation would put them down for good. Applejack needed putting down.

Something caught his attention: a can, rolling and bouncing along the floor behind him to come to a stop at his feet. He looked down, momentarily confused, at the offending canister, on which was written something he couldn’t make out. Applejack smiled, and the realization came crashing down on Esteem all at once.

Explosives.

“Not too bright are ya’, sugarcube?”

He blitzed out of the corridor, landing at the base of the stairs just as the canister detonated. He blew open the doors leading to the street outside then blitzed through those as well, not caring that his trajectory brought him several metres over the street below. Before he hit the ground, he had a shield up.

The flames—which were inexplicably bright pink—gushed out of the structure that hid the labyrinth entrance like blood from a wound. They wrapped around Esteem’s shield, surrounding him in so much pink light that he had to look away. When the explosion subsided, he stood in a wide circle untouched by the pink flames.

It took moments for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The streets of upper Canterlot were, for once, quite calm. Or rather, this particular street was calm. He knew that somewhere, Titan was fighting Luna as planned.

His new assailant revealed herself moments after he regained his composure. Another earthpony, this one bright pink, came soaring through the air between Esteem and the burning entrance to the labyrinth. It was an impossible leap, made even more unbelievable by the flames she trailed as she flew through the air.

Pinkamena Diane Pie landed inside Esteem’s unburnt circle in a half-crouch. Two short metal blades extended from her forelegs. She looked up at the general and smiled.

“I’m Pinkie Pie.”

“Die!” Esteem snarled in response.

He took a swing at her with Carsomyr, which she blocked with both blades before spinning away. Unsatisfied, Esteem shattered his weapon and sent fourteen razor-sharp shards at the earthpony. She leapt into the air, turning so as to fit harmlessly through the cluster of blades, then hugged the ground as the shards returned.

She came at him, actually came towards him, and swung at him with her blades. The sound of metal ringing against metal rang out through the still-burning street as Esteem caught both strikes separately on his blade.

Pinkie needed to use her forelegs to attack, and this disadvantage was not lost on Esteem. After catching another set of strikes on his blade, he struck her in the belly with a hoof. The earthpony went tumbling backwards, and Esteem went in for the kill.

He threw his blade once again, this time angling the shards downward so that they buried themselves in the cobblestones when Pinkie Pie evaded them. The earthpony did manage to avoid each of the blades, but came out of an evasive roll in the centre of a minefield. She looked up at the general and her eyes widened.

Esteem barely had time to wonder just how Pinkie knew they were going to explode before Applejack, still fully-armored but very much alive, came barreling into his field of view and jumped on top of the pink pony, who drew her legs in and made herself as small as possible.

The shards exploded, and for several moments the two were obscured by falling stone and debris. Before the dust had even cleared, however, Applejack was in the process of standing, apparently unharmed.

How could she have survived the explosion? Even the strongest earthponies had trouble with fire, and that had been unnaturally hot fire. Surely Applejack was at her limits. And how could Pinkie Pie have not a scratch on her? Applejack had not covered her entirely, and he doubted Pinkie had the regenerative powers possessed by her partner.

It mattered not. As they rose, Esteem blitzed through the space between them and aimed his blade at Pinkie’s head. Esteem expected he would only be able to catch them off-guard long enough to kill one, and Applejack would be running low on magic.

He was more or less correct. Pinkie Pie looked up in time to see the blade descending, but there was no way she could dodge it this time—she was still partway under Applejack. The armored earthpony reacted to Esteem coming out of his blitz, but he could swing Carsomyr much faster than she could move a hoof.

When the diamond blade intercepted Carsomyr, his frustration was overshadowed by his excitement. He stood, bearing down on his daughter’s weapon with all his magical might, and it slowly bent toward Pinkie Pie.

Applejack took a swing at him with a hoof, which he evaded by springing to the side. Pinkie Pie finally managed to roll out from under Applejack, and came at him with a series of wickedly fast strikes. Esteem deflected them all with Carsomyr as he kicked her in the chest, sending her reeling backwards. His magical senses made him aware of Vorpal’s incoming shards, and he split his own blade to deflect them. Simultaneously, he cast a spell to remove the traction from the cobbles beneath Pinkie Pie, causing her to slide helplessly onto her belly.

When he reassembled Carsomyr, he brought the shards in low. Pinkie Pie jumped over them, but Applejack was tripped by the closely clustered shards of platinum-iridium. He didn’t bother trying to kill the earthpony, instead leaping over her and aiming a jab at Pinkie. By now Rarity had reformed her blade, and it met his own above the pink pony once again. Esteem landed on the near-frictionless cobbles, and he exchanged blows with Vorpal as he slid past the helpless earthpony to position himself behind his daughter.

While Rarity’s bladecasting robe looked pristine, his daughter appeared to have sprinted the whole way to their location. Sweat beaded her forehead, and strands of her mane were stuck to her coat. She was breathing heavily.

He held her blade against his, ready to react to any set of strikes she might throw his way. He was well aware of the two earthponies behind her.

“Do we really have to do this again, Rarity? You know you can’t beat me.”

Slowly, she detached one of Vorpal’s shards from the whole and lifted it to her face, where she used it to tuck a strand of mane behind her ears. “Dame Rarity, General. Titles are important. And while I can’t beat you, we can.”

Esteem ran his tongue over a sharpened tooth. “I see that contrary to my lessons you are still relying on others. King Titan believes the best way to reform a pony is to start by taking everything they hold dear away from them. I wonder, my Rarity, how much left do you have to lose? How many of your friends will I have to kill before you admit just how flawed your worldview is?”

Rarity took several steps away from him to stand between her two friends. Her blade lazily detached from Carsomyr to drift towards her. “I will not tell you again, General. I am Knight Commander, and you will address me as such.”

Esteem looked the group of Luna’s elites over. “All of you at once?” he said. He tightened the bonds between Carsomyr’s shards so much that the metal almost squealed. “Oh yes.”

Sparkle popped into the mess with a larger burst of light than usual—her goal was to get as much attention as possible. Her appearance tended to have that effect on the loyalists anyway.

“We are under attack!” she cried. If any set of eyes in the mess wasn’t already on her, it was now. She took the room in at a glance. “Noble!” she barked.

The aged pegasus saluted immediately. By now everypony was standing. “I need a group of fighting ponies to the north and another to the east. Everypony non-essential heads through to the south. No other tunnel is a viable exit. There are enemies already inside, so be prepared for heavy fighting. Am I understood?”

Noble took each piece of bad news in stride. “Yes, ma’am.”

A brief but perfectly aimed sojourn through space later, Sparkle was with her parents. When she arrived, they were not doing well.

Her magical senses told her everything she needed to know as the light from her teleport cleared. She knocked several unicorn shards out of the way, then undid a moment field so her father’s blade could reach a unicorn puppet. Then, she blanketed the entire hallway in a spell that further bent the curvature of space, increasing the gravity in the narrow corridor by almost forty percent. She turned to her parents, who she had rendered unaffected. They were staring at her in amazement.

“Help is on the way. This should last about twenty seconds.”

“Twenty seven,” Twilight corrected as they blinked away.

“This isn’t good,” Fluttershy said, more to herself than to any other pony. “This isn’t good at all.” She flew after Unimpressive as he barreled through the labyrinth’s passages toward the main eastern tunnel. Ponies who had apparently been warned of the attack scurried past them as they went.

“This isn’t good? And here I was under the impression Twilight wanted to be attacked.” Unimpressive answered with his typical sarcasm. “She said you always come through when you’re needed. Please tell me that means you’re a badass.” Fluttershy winced at his language, and the expression was not lost on Unimpressive. “You don’t fight either, do you?”

“I-I-I don’t... I mean—”

“You’re kidding me. For Celestia’s elite task force you guys sure have a strange way of getting things done.”

“Well, um, Celestia’s elite task force never really existed.”

At this Unimpressive looked back at her sharply. “What?”

“Twilight and Luna have been telling that to everypony so they’d listen to us.” It felt good to get that off her chest. Fluttershy hated lying, even indirectly.

“Well then where do you come from?”

“I’m, um, well, I take care of the creatures in Ponyville. Or I did.”

“So after all this time you’re all volunteers? What about Nightmare Moon? Discord?”

“Well,” Fluttershy began, intending to tell him about how they had met Twilight Sparkle.

She didn’t get to finish her sentence. They rounded a corner and came face to face with a unicorn puppet.

“Get back,” Unimpressive commanded as he drew his blade. The unicorn attacked him with a series of glowing red energy bolts, which he batted out of the air.

“Hey!” Fluttershy called loudly. Or rather, relatively loudly. The unicorn heard her, which was her goal. It shifted its attention from Unimpressive to Fluttershy, and she stared. Her mind broke through the familiar barrier between her will and its, and it vanished. Fluttershy shuddered.

Unimpressive looked back at her with an eyebrow cocked. “You don’t know how to fight, huh? What was that?”

Fluttershy shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I can sort of, um, dominate any creature’s free will by looking into its eyes, and the puppets don’t have free will, so...” She let the sentence hang.

“So you can instantly kill the unicorns everypony has so much trouble with. One would think that would have come up in the past two and a half weeks you have been here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Fluttershy said with perfect honesty. “I’m sort of quiet. I don’t know where it comes from.”

“With a name like Fluttershy, who would have thought? Though I suppose I’m Unimpressive, so it isn’t like names are an accurate way to gauge a pony’s personality.”

“Um, isn’t Unimpressive a nickname?”

He shot her a disapproving glare. “Can we just move on? I’m feeling really inadequate after the unicorn thing.”

“I’ll let you fight the next one,” she offered.

Luna should have been flying over Canterlot. It was almost routine now. Dash or Luna would regularly patrol to find any pegasus puppets and destroy them so as to maintain dominion over Inner Canterlot’s airspace. The pegasi numbers had dwindled so much in the past few weeks that they had started using other, slower soldiers to draw them out. Now the patrol was just a formality—there was no question as to who owned Inner Canterlot.

Except by the time Dash had blown the tunnel and escaped to open air, the streets of Canterlot were in the oh-so-familiar chaos of battle. She had immediately taken flight so as to gain a better view, and was treated to birds-eye-view of the conflict. It seemed as though every troop General Esteem could muster was in the field, attacking any loyalists who had been outside. In the distance, she saw the unmistakable pink glow of the Pinkie fireball.

That they had managed to at least fight their way out of the tunnel was good. Dash hoped they were okay, but she needed to focus on her own task: find Luna. As she was looking for a goddess at war, her task should be a simple one.

That was what worried Dash. Had Twilight deliberately given her the easiest job because she was angry with her? Rainbow Dash told herself that Twilight’s decision had made sense; Dash was the fastest pony on the team, and the only pegasus other than Fluttershy.

Her prediction about finding the princess proved true. After less than thirty seconds of sweeping, her pegasus eyes spotted the princess in one of the main streets of Canterlot. She was alone, except for—

“Him again,” Dash breathed. King Titan in puppet form.

Luna was fighting Titan blade-to-blade, much like she had two weeks prior. She was alone, which Dash knew was bad. Luna might normally be an unstoppable force, but Titan was just as powerful.

Dash reckoned she had surprised the King once before, so it wouldn’t hurt to do it again. She sped around the two of them until she was to Titan’s back and Luna was facing her. Then she moved in, blazing a rainbow trail so as to ensure Luna saw her before shooting straight upwards for the clouds. Hopefully the Princess got the message.

The clouds had not been cooperative ever since Titan’s return. Dash flew to the heart of a particularly large one and drew upon her pegasus magic, noting how much she had to focus to alter the cloud. They had been growing increasingly feral day by day. Soon they would be no different from the ones over the Everfree Forest.

Still, Dash was no stranger to taming clouds, and her pegasine vision pierced the precipitation as though it were merely air. Below, Luna had Titan in the air, presenting her a perfect target. She gathered every speck of energy in the cloud, took aim, and released.

Then worries of Twilight Sparkle melted away, and Dash forgot entirely about Wrong. She lost herself in the sheer energy of her attack, and the exhilaration of the contest took over. There was no competition greater than mortal combat.

The crack of thunder was still sounding in her ears as she struck the King of the world with a bolt of multi-hued lightning thicker around than she was. She shot past him, landing with three hooves on the charred cobbles. In her last hoof she held her blade.

This time it seemed both Titan and Luna were more prepared for the thunderbolt. Luna immediately lunged at the King, and he batted her out of the air with a wave of telekinesis that could have toppled a building. Then he hit the ground next to Dash and stabbed at her with his blade.

Rainbow Dash knew not to try to take Titan head-on. She flung herself upward and over the King, spinning over him as she sailed through the air. Titan’s blade bit into empty stones, and he immediately tore it free and swung it over his head toward the pegasus.

The strike came lightning-fast, and Dash instinctively raised her own weapon to block it. When their blades connected, the power of Titan’s blow sent a jarring shock through her foreleg and sent her reeling. Were it not for the magical link between her leg and her weapon, it would surely have been knocked away.

Luna came back around to attack her father from the other side, and they traded blows so quickly that Dash’s eyes could only follow thanks to her pegasus senses. Titan’s horn flashed, and Dash wondered what spell the King was trying to best his daughter with. It was only when the stones beneath her glossed over with a lightless black that she realized he was trying to kill her.

Her first instinct was too take off. She tried to, but her legs stuck to the stone as if she were bolted in place. She looked down in a panic and saw blackness, crawling up her legs to cover her body.

It was not any particular form of concentration, but rather the stark terror Dash felt at the sight of the darkness that gave her the strength she used to escape. She tore free from his spell and only stopped ascending when she realized that the darkness had stayed on the ground. She looked down, and where she had been standing a moment earlier was only a tiny crater filled with dust.

She wondered if she would have been able to shake Titan’s spell if not for Twilight’s enchantments. While Dash was no unicorn, she was almost certain that Titan’s magic would not normally be so easy to shake. Not for the first time, she regretted the way she had handled their conversation earlier.

Dash shook her head vigorously. She needed to focus. She beat her wings forcibly and hit the ground in another crouch moments later. Titan was fighting Luna, and the two would throw occasional spells at one another, but it was clear that Luna was losing ground. She looked at the King. He wasn’t to be feared; he was just trying to kill her. That Dash could handle. That was a daily occurrence.

No, if anything Dash should be angry at the self-declared King of the world. There was nothing that had happened to her, or to any of them, that could not be blamed on Titan. He had plunged their world into war, set General Esteem against ponykind, mortalized Celestia, and ordered Twilight to be afflicted with the Sliver of Darkness. And now Dash was being given a chance to beat him to death.

Yes, Dash thought as she let loose a vicious battle cry: anger she could use.

She came in low and swung her blade at him. He ducked, busy with Luna, and Rainbow Dash swung up to kick him in the neck. Titan struck Luna’s blade hard enough to send her reeling, and he brought it around to cleave Rainbow Dash in two.

She angled her weapon as she caught the strike, and it glanced away harmlessly. For a moment Dash found herself inside his guard, and she attempted to scythe off the King’s head. Her sword ricocheted off an invisible barrier, and Dash crouched low as she regained her footing.

Dash thought that all she had to keep track of was his blade, but she was wrong. As she jumped over another wide swing, Titan struck out with a hoof and hit her in the chest. She slid back across the cobbles, wind knocked out of her, as Titan turned back to his daughter.

Breathe, Dash thought. She focused everything she had on the idea of sucking air into her lungs. Luna needed her, and Twilight needed Luna.

It helped that she was a pegasus, and air naturally did what she wanted it to. While normally that was things like thinning out in front of her and gathering under her wings, the same elemental command extended to something as simple as this. Dash filled her lungs with air in a desperate gasp. Then she did it again, and again.

She sped across the distance between herself and Titan and made to cut at the King.

This time, she was careful. As Titan knocked her blade back with his own, she used the momentum he gave her to spin away from his follow-up strike and swing at him again from the other direction.

They fought on. Rainbow Dash, despite her usual pride, knew that her purpose was not to kill, or even harm Titan. Luna was a far better warrior than she, could take a beating, and sling spells around besides. Dash distracted the King, forcing him to pay attention to her or be sliced in twain.

It worked. She was too fast for Titan to harm without giving her his full attention, and so was free to find creative ways to attack him. Dash hit him with her blade, her hooves, her elemental lightning—anything she could think of.

Luna came at him with her corrosive blade, the powers of winter, and her bare hooves. Dash had to wonder briefly where all the gods had learned hoof-to-hoof combat—they certainly didn’t fight using any style she had ever seen. They could carry on a duel with blades and a bout of martial combat simultaneously.

The trio of combatants rarely stayed in the same place for long—all of them had wings. That, and the spells that Luna and Titan threw around were devastating. Dash’s armor was strong, but she couldn’t survive the building-crushing force of Titan’s telekinesis, or any of his stranger, more sinister magics. Her only hope was to take flight and flee momentarily whenever one came her way.

She had it easy, though. Luna was pushed through buildings, battered into the ground, engulfed in achromatic flames, and bound in seamless white cords. Each time Titan hit her with a spell, she got back up. And for each spell Titan landed on his daughter, she got a hit on him. Titan was encased in ice, thrown through buildings himself, pelted with shards of glass, and impaled by a street sign. The way he reacted to the injuries was more akin to the way one might react to getting caught out in the rain.

At last Luna and Dash came at Titan from opposite sides of a flat stone rooftop, and he broke his black blade into two pieces and caught each of their strikes. His chest still sported a gaping hole from where he had been impaled, and it wasn’t healing.

“I am going to lose this battle,” he said calmly as he held their weapons in place. “I will not even kill you, girl. How disappointing. I should think that—”

“Whatever,” Dash said as she swung at him again. He evaded her blade, then Luna’s, but then Dash carved a deep cut into his neck. He faltered, and Luna stabbed him in the chest. His blade vanished, and Dash took his head off with a rapid swing.

Physical combat was more exerting than any other activity Dash had experienced, and she exhaled as she dropped to sit on the rooftop and sheathed her weapon. “Twilight needs you,” she breathed. “We’re under attack. Go in through the south. Everypony is evacuating.” If her friends were still fighting, they wouldn’t be for long. She wished she was close enough to tap the Elements of Harmony and see if they were okay.

“Catastrophe,” Luna cursed icily. “Is everypony using the south?”

“Yes. The others are all collapsed, or filled with enemies.”

“And how is Twilight getting our ponies out?”

“She’s leading them out herself.”

“And the puppets in the streets? What does she intend to do about them?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where will she lead our troops?”

“I don’t know.”

Luna seemed to work this over in her head. “Hast thou any other orders?”

“No.”

Luna spread her wings. “Then keep our fleeing ponies safe above ground.”

The Princess took off, and Dash lifted herself onto her feet. Wondering whether or not her friends were alive was exhausting. So was wondering whether or not they would beat Titan for good. If they did, would Dash ever get over Wrong?

She wished she could just suck it up and get over it. That she could put it all behind her and live like a normal pony again. Celestia only knew that she wanted to—and all of her friends probably wanted it to. It would be better for everypony, herself and Twilight included. But knowing that it was what she should do, that it would be right was not enough. She could no more ignore the lessons learned as Wrong than she could walk through solid stone.

Dash threw herself into the air to survey the city below her. There were indeed still puppets in the streets—a great deal of them. She drew her blade as she dove towards the first. She couldn’t make up for past wrongs.

But she could do this.

Titan found her before she had led the first group away.

Sparkle had alerted everypony she could find—which was quite a few. She had sent some to help her parents and Fluttershy, and sent the rest away. She had taken her own group, almost a hundred in number, and led them to the collapsed tunnel between the mess and the quarters. There had been fighting along the way—their tunnels had been breached. Sparkle had let the loyalists handle it as she shielded them from harm.

Repairing the collapsed tunnel was an incredibly difficult feat, so it took Sparkle several moments. When the debris was cleared and the tunnel intact, she saw him.

“Him,” Twilight said venomously.

Titan’s avatar stood, surrounded by puppets, at the other end of the vast corridor. How he had known where to find her was a mystery to Sparkle.

Titan spoke not to Sparkle, but to the ponies she led. “You choose her as your deity, even over Luna. A mortal pony, over a god. You will watch her die. Then you will die, godless.”

Sparkle faced the King of the world, urging her legs not to tremble. Despite the hundred ponies behind her, she felt alone.

“Buttercup?” she asked softly. Sparkle had picked the earthpony up in the quarters.

“General?” The worry in her voice was clear.

“You’re in charge now. Lead them out.”

Before Buttercup could protest, Sparkle teleported to the other end of the corridor, putting herself on the other side of King. “I’m over here!” she called out.

“Make him suffer. Humiliate him. You are the strongest war unicorn in the world.”

Titan tilted his head slightly. “I had forgotten that you were a Coruscare.”

Twilight saw Buttercup and the other ponies take off behind the King. They would have to go the long way around, but they would at least survive. Hopefully. “I am a Sparkle.”

“You are a pony,” he said, as though that was all that needed saying. “I know not why they rally around you. You have made three mortal errors in the past minute. There is nothing divine about you but your tenuous link to Celestia.”

“Fight,” Twilight urged her. “Fire, thunder, entropy and ice.”

Titan kept going when she didn’t answer him. “I see the fear in your eyes, Coruscare. You are not your ancestor. You do not breathe death as she did.”

“Show him that he’s wrong,” Twilight begged. “Cut light and break gravity. Bend minds and devour flesh.”

“These ponies worship you for what you should be. For what you represent. But the mind of a child and the heart of an infant are within you. Surrender and I will stop this attack.”

“The power to destroy!” Twilight cried. “The power to destroy!”

Sparkle considered both of their words for only a moment before answering them.

“No,” she said simply. Then, in a burst of purple light, she vanished.

Rarity, Applejack, and Pinkie Pie were flawless.

Rarity did her best to keep her father’s blade busy. Vorpal danced through the air, performing maneuvers that were elegant in their simplicity. It shimmered in the light of Pinkie’s dying flames, and bright white sparks shot out from between it and Carsomyr wherever they met.

Applejack did little more than put herself in harm’s way. With Rarity’s magical senses, and Pinkie’s Pinkie sense, there was little that the earthpony did not see coming. While she would occasionally take a swing at Esteem, she was far too slow to hit the General. Instead she intercepted war spells and thrown shards, brushing off blows that would have killed Pinkie Pie.

Pinkie herself was an unpredictable blur of motion. Esteem batted away canisters filled with confetti and had to deal with the earthpony’s extreme martial arts. She rolled and jumped from place to place, demanding attention with her ranged strikes as well as her blades.

They were synchronized perfectly. When Rarity came from one side, Pinkie would come from another. When Esteem threw his shards at Pinkie, she would dodge most of them as Rarity knocked the others out of the air. When the General let loose a war spell, Applejack would cover Rarity with her body as Pinkie leapt out of the way.

Even so, it became apparent less than thirty seconds into their conflict that they were only fighting for survival. Esteem was war itself. He moved between them like liquid, thwarting their attacks and forcing far too much defensive action. His war spells were devastating things that made each of them run for cover. Rarity knew he was talented, but preparing so much magic while fighting with his blade was extremely praiseworthy.

What was worse, every time he came close to striking one of them it was a brush with death. Every time they broke through his defenses, however, he simply batted them away with a moment-field. For that reason alone he was going to win.

And he smiled. Rarity had originally thought of her father’s grin as something predatory, mostly due to his sharpened teeth, but now she realized that it was not animalistic at all. The predators of the Everfree Forest killed to eat. Esteem killed for fun. His maniac’s grin was entirely equine.

She matched a set of strikes aimed at her, but the strain of constant combat was wearing on her. She was slowing down, and they both knew it. If they couldn't come up with something soon, Esteem would have them. Her father smiled at her over their blades.

“You know, my Rarity,” he began casually.

Pinkie Pie came at him from behind, and he threw Rarity away with a push of Carsomyr, then turned and beat at her with the blade. As she blocked his strike, he drove a hoof into her chest. Pinkie flew backwards, and Esteem pursued, leading with his blade. Applejack jumped in front of her and caught the blade on her armored forelegs. Her hind legs trembled and she gritted her teeth in exertion as the general bore down on her.

Then Rarity came at her father again, screaming savagely as Vorpal met Carsomyr again and again. Esteem had to almost shout to be heard over the din of the colliding blades.

“The philosophical implications of this battle are quite intriguing. You rely on one another to survive, and because of it your friends are going to die.”

He forced his blade against hers with all his magical might, and Rarity struggled to stand as she was pushed across the cobbles. Behind him, Rarity saw Applejack helping Pinkie Pie to stand up. Esteem brought his face so close she could feel his breath against her cheek.

“This is the cost of reliance on others, my daughter. Failure. Mediocrity.”

Their blades dipped ever closer to Rarity, and Vorpal cut into her cheek with ease. Rarity drew back.

“I gave you everything. I made you superior. And you squander your gifts by helping the lesser. By siding with the disciple of a dead god.”

“So why is it,” Rarity said as she drew away from the blade inching closer to her face. “That you need my approval?”

Esteem’s eyes narrowed. Rarity saw her chance.

She heaved back her foreleg and punched him in the face as hard as she possibly could. He was not prepared for the strike, and his head snapped back. The force of her punch pushed one of his sharpened teeth into his lip, and when he brought his head back around a trickle of blood ran from his mouth.

His icy blue eyes were filled with rage as he pushed her to the ground. Then he spat on her. “Ungrateful bitch!” he yelled.

He threw Carsomyr’s fragments into the ground at her feet and leapt away. Rarity barely had time to register what was happening before she was running for her life.

The shards exploded when Rarity was only a short distance away, and a wave of force and stone threw her forward like a rag-doll. She didn’t know how far she skidded across the street before she came to a halt. When she stopped, she felt no pain, and her ears wouldn’t stop ringing.

She didn’t know how long she lay there, dazed, before reality came back to her. She tried telling herself to stand, and managed to flop weakly onto her side. From there she saw everything.

Applejack was face down on the ground, unmoving. Rarity tapped their harmonic connection and learned to her relief that she was alive. Pinkie Pie was fighting Esteem alone.

It appeared as though the only reason she was still alive was because Esteem had abandoned any semblance of technique in favor of blind rage. He screamed as he struck Pinkie’s blades again and again, and Rarity wondered how the pink pony’s forelegs were able to endure the force he was hitting her with.

She took a cut across the face, and another tore open her chest armor. Every time she blocked one of Carsomyr’s swings, it took her longer to raise her legs again. Finally, Esteem batted her forelegs away and sent her to the ground. She did not get up.

Rarity had to help her, but she could barely move. Vorpal lay scattered around her, but she didn’t have the focus to cast it.

Her father turned to her, looked right at her, and licked Pinkie’s blood from a piece of his blade. Then, flung the shards into the ground around her and blurred backwards through the air toward Applejack. Pinkie Pie didn’t move. Why didn’t she move?

The ground under Pinkie Pie erupted into a shower of stones and dirt, and Rarity couldn’t look away. Esteem’s blade shards reassembled into the whole before him, as what had the rubble fell to the street to reveal—

Pinkie Pie, unharmed, lying on a circular patch of cobblestones amidst the tiny crater. Around her glowed a deep blue sphere, in front of which stood Princess Luna.

“General,” she said coolly.

“Luna,” he stammered.

“Princess Luna,” she corrected. “And my goal is to save my little ponies, not waste time killing you. Run.”

He looked around, obviously not sure what to do. His eyes fell on Rarity.

“This,” he breathed venomously, “this is not—”

“I have nothing to say to you, Esteem. You are not my general and you are not my father. Begone.”

Esteem looked like he was about to reply, but Luna made at him, and his reaction was to cast his motion spell to take him down half the street. Though it was too far away for her to see, Rarity knew it was her that he looked at before turning and running away.

Titan finally caught her above ground.

She had no idea how he was able to pursue her, but she was grateful that he was. She had bounced around the labyrinth, shielding loyalists and guiding them to the only escape route. Every time, Titan would show up after only a short wait to kill her. She would lead him away from the ponies, then teleport to a new location.

Eventually, she had decided the best place to lead him would be away from the compound entirely, and teleported to the inner city streets. There, she had found an abundance of puppets, but they couldn’t really hurt her.

Twilight had not stopped urging her to destroy them. “They’re only puppets,” she had said. “Use the tools you were given.”

Sparkle, as always, had declined.

“You can’t use our power to destroy, can you?” Twilight had said. “You physically can’t do it.”

“I... don’t think so,” Sparkle had admitted. After that, Twilight had left her alone.

The puppets weren’t exactly a problem, but they were exhausting to deal with. Sparkle had blinked past a fountain and into a building, hoping Titan had followed her.

That’s when he had cut her off.

It was like losing a sense she hadn’t even known she possessed. One moment she could freely command the space around her, and the next she just couldn’t. She knew it was possible to prevent her from teleporting an object or a pony, but she’d never not been able to move herself.

The first thing she had done was immediately turn to the exit. She found Titan in the doorway.

“I know more of your lineage than you do, Coruscare. I know how to defeat you.”

Sparkle trembled at the sight of the King. She needed a way out. She turned around, looking for any kind of backdoor, but there was none. She would have to get by the King himself.

A pain exploded in her head, and before she knew what was happening, she was being pinned to the back wall by a set of magically conjured white cords as Titan looked on. Titan had bound her as soon as she looked away. How could she have been so foolish?

“I do not understand why they obey you over me,” Titan said impassively. “Perhaps it is your link to Celestia. But while you are extraordinary as a pony, as a deity you are quite mundane.”

It wasn’t over yet. Sparkle tapped into her magical senses and probed Titan’s binding spell, looking for a way to break it. No system was indestructible.

“Celestia,” Titan said simply. “You will tell me a memory you have of her. One that she treasures.”

Sparkle was instantly confused. Was this why Titan hadn’t killed her? What would he need with a memory?

“Defy him. Celestia is nothing to us.”

“I won’t.”

Titan cocked his head to one side slightly, as if genuinely surprised that she had refused him. Then, his ghostly horn glowed slightly, and a tiny white orb zipped forward into Sparkle’s eye.

Sparkle would have used the word “unimaginable” to describe the pain, but that would have been incorrect: she was experiencing it. Of course it was imaginable. It was not the the screaming, splitting agony of a burn, or the wet, prickling torment of a cut, or the dull, throbbing ache of a broken bone. Rather, it was as if all of these things had been combined and then had their excesses trimmed away. The common element was isolated and distilled into what Titan was forcing her to experience. When it stopped, her head hung limply.

“The memory, unicorn.”

Right. There was a memory. One that Titan wanted. One that Celestia treasured.

Evidently she took too long, because the pain returned. Even the few seconds that Titan held her inside the pain were too much for her to bear.

“Birthday!” she screamed as soon as it stopped. Titan cocked his head.

Twilight gasped. There were tears running down her face. “When I turned twelve. We made a magelight. It was my first created spell.” Creating her own spells at barely twelve years old. No wonder Celestia had manipulated her into killing her enemies.

“Celestia,” she said weakly, with full knowledge that her god was not coming to save her. She wasn’t hoping for divine intervention. She spoke her god’s name as an accusation.

“Not our god, kiddo. Not any more.”

“This is the price of defiance,” Titan said. “This is the result of the best of your race resisting. They die by the hundreds as you give in to my demands. Another memory, pony.”

“You can defy him. Break his spells.”

But that wasn’t true. Even with her vast intellect and talent Sparkle couldn’t focus through this—

Pain! It was like being given a new sense of the word solely for the purpose of suffering. What kind of mind could create such a spell?

“Nightmare Night,” Sparkle whimpered. “She brought me to the hedge maze my first year at the palace. I got scared by a vampony and she told me they weren’t real. She told me she’d raise the sun for me if I ever met one for real.”

But Twilight Sparkle had met a beast with sharpened fangs, a beast who drank blood. A pony who had held her down and turned her into a monster. Celestia had not come for her then.

“Give me the pain, Sparkle. Fight him. Please.”

Titan was still for a moment. “What happened to your first copy of Advanced Alchemy?”

She waited too long again, and once again he drowned her mind in agony. Was it the same pain, or a whole new experience? She couldn’t remember.

Sparkle closed her eyes when it was finished. She didn’t want to die. “Spike sent Celestia half the pages.”

Give me the pain. Fight him. Please.

Twilight had offered to take her pain away. Was it a desperate act of self-preservation, or was she truly trying to help?

“Both.”

She thought of Nihilus Nix Naught. Nihilus, who had so gleefully lived to destroy everything that Twilight held dear. Nihilus, who had broken Rainbow Dash and murdered Fluttershy. Nihilus, whom Twilight had murdered. Nihilus, who had begged for mercy and met cold indifference. Certainly Twilight resembled her in some ways, but their differences were fundamental.

She thought of Esteem, who had gone against everything that ponykind was supposed to stand for. A monster and a murderer who killed for pleasure instead of necessity. The kind of pony who could hit his daughter and call it right.

And before her was Titan, worst of them all. How many deaths was this single pony responsible for? What kind of mind did he have, that he could subject her to cold-blooded torture simply because it was the most efficient way to get what he wanted? He had given his daughter over to his sadistic wife and left his people with the likes of Nihilus and Esteem.

Finally, Celestia. Celestia, who had looked a hopeful eleven year old filly in the eyes and seen a weapon. Celestia, who Twilight had idolized. Celestia, who had used her for the greater good. Celestia, who was only any different because she had a more righteous agenda. Celestia, who hadn’t come to save her.

Sparkle opened her eyes. “I need you.”

“I’m right here, kiddo.”

“You want to know why they follow me, Titan? It’s because I’m not one of the gods. I am not one of you. Your immortality purges your equinity. I won’t let you hurt them any more. You don’t deserve to rule anything.”

“Your sensibilities fail you, Coruscare. ” Titan levelled his black blade at her. “Die now.”

There was a spark.

It was a beautiful morning, and Twilight struggled hopelessly as Nihilus destroyed Rarity’s home. Nihilus gloated, and Twilight despaired. She was helpless.

Rarity was attacking them with a unicorn blade, and Twilight saw her chance. She screamed at Nihilus, and the parasite listened. Naught barely managed to save them in time, and was rewarded with a long gash along her face. It didn’t matter. Twilight had learned that they could die.

Days of watching Rainbow Dash suffer. Of feeling an entertainment that was not her own. Of watching Nihilus use her as a plaything.

Then she had picked up the book. The book that Twilight had realized was a plant. Celestia had once told her that nothing is truly random. This book, this was not random. Twilight came up with a plan. The plan to kill Nihilus Nix Naught.

They had won the Battle of Cloudsdale, and the only missing pieces were Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy. Soon her friends would be safe.

Except now Nihilus was going back on her word. Now she was killing Fluttershy. No, now she was making Dash kill Fluttershy. Twilight wanted to destroy her. She wanted it more than she could bear. She felt real hate, hate like she had never felt before.

But they won. They won, and no thanks to her efforts. A rainbow beam descended towards them, and Twilight felt herself smile at the doomed parasite. She deserved worse.

And then she realized just how much she had changed. What she was truly capable of. Fluttershy had said it: Twilight could do evil. If she could change this much, what was to prevent her from changing more? What was in place to prevent her from becoming a monster?

She was.

And without knowing how, she broke herself. She fed her hate and her pride to a dark place in her mind. She made sure she would never hurt another pony again. She would never change.

Titan’s blade came toward her, and met a blazing point of purple energy, where it stopped in midair.

“My name is not Coruscare,” she said. Titan lifted an eyebrow.

She undid his pain spell with a thought. It was a simple thing, when she had the focus. A spell within her own body was easy to claim and negate when she had a hold on herself. Which she did—otherwise Titan would not have had to use his binding spell in the first place. She examined the binding spell, and decided the bonds that held her to the wall were too complex to break.

The wall was not.

She submerged herself in her magic—all of it. A calm came over her, and the fears and worries that had plagued her moments before vanished. Her horn glowed. Her eyes burned. Her mane etherealized. The wall behind her was torn away. The bonds that held her lost their hold. She took a step forward as she fell away from the wall, and Titan was forced back.

“My name is not unicorn.”

Splinters ricocheted harmlessly off her skin as she proceeded calmly towards the door, pushing against Titan with a growing amount of telekinetic force. The roof caved in, then burst into violet flames around her. Titan was forced back further, as the floorboards were torn away, wood and nails all, to expose the packed earth beneath. More walls were blown away, and she continued moving. By the time she got to the door frame it was the only thing left.

“My name is not pony.”

She released the energy that she was using to hold his blade, and threw the god of gods across the square and through a fountain made of three carved pegasi. To her indifference, he got back up. The streets were filled with puppets.

Then she said something she knew to be honest, and the saying of it brought a smile to her face.

“My name is Twilight Sparkle.”

-

Something something something AestheticBrony@gmail.com

Thanks to Vimbert: He’s got the moves.

Chapter Fifteen, The Power to Destroy, will be linked Wednesday, February 8th.

The Power to Destroy

The Power to Destroy

Unimpressive cleaved an earthpony puppet in two with Vindictive, then watched as a puppet next to him burst.

“You know,” he called back to Fluttershy, “it isn’t flashy or intimidating, but damn that mind-pulverize thing you do is effective.” He split Vindictive into thirteen blazing missiles and sent them at a unicorn.

“I d-don’t like it,” Fluttershy said. “It’s no different than using your hooves to hurt somepony.” Unimpressive frowned, not at Fluttershy’s comment, but at the force field the unicorn used to deflect his weapon.

“Well they like it.” Unimpressive nodded to the motley group of loyalists who had joined them in holding the tunnel. “Also, could you get that unicorn in the back? I swear he just stuck his tongue out at me.”

Fluttershy sighed and attempted to lock eyes with the pony. “I hope Twilight is okay,” she said after popping the puppet’s brain.

“She can teleport,” he answered as he set a pegasus puppet on fire. What use were pegasi underground? “She’ll be fine.”

“But she’s been so stressed,” Fluttershy said softly. “I tried everything—I even offered her a massage.” She ducked to avoid a flying piece of stone, and Unimpressive batted it out of the air with a thought.

“I even offered her hard liquor,” he answered. “What?” he said upon seeing the look she gave him. “It’s like a massage, but for the soul.” Her disapproving stare intensified. “If looks could kill, Flutts.” She locked eyes with another puppet and it burst into nothingness.

It was then that he heard it: a solitary cry of, “It’s the Cadet!” His head whipped around immediately. The voice had come from behind them.

He saw the pale green coat through the disorganized mass of his own soldiers, who were screaming and scattering at the sight of the new arrival. The Cadet’s blade whirled to and fro, hacking at the loyalists close by. An earthpony closed with the Cadet, attempting to fight him off, but he was woefully inadequate against the bladecaster, and was quickly cut down.

Unimpressive felt his blood boil. How long had this bastard been inside their defenses, killing evacuees rather then helping his own forces on the front? Rage filled his veins, and he did the only thing that seemed fitting: he pulled out his whiskey.

“Um, Unimpressive...” Fluttershy said as upended the flask. He kept going. “Are you sure this is, um, I mean...” He kept going. “It’s just, you,” He pulled the flask from his lips and rapped it against his horn, where it made a hollow metallic clank. “Oh my.”

Unimpressive breathed deeply and suppressed his urge to vomit. “It’s good,” he wheezed, losing his footing momentarily. “It’s a good burn.” He patted Fluttershy on the back. “You’re in charge now, ‘kay?”

“Um, what?”

Unimpressive was already barreling away from her, pushing against his own scattering troops in pursuit of his rival. “Cadet!” he bellowed as he cleared the other loyalists. “Where are you!?”

He spotted him passing through a door a short distance away, and followed. When he pushed through the metal door, he found himself in a wide room. He was alone with—

“Cadet,” he said venomously to the green unicorn.

“You,” the Cadet shot back. Then he sneered. “What is your name, dead pony?”

“You never learned it? I’m surprised.”

“You weren’t talked about very often.”

“You weren’t talked about at all. Call me Unimpressive.”

The Cadet snorted. “Fitting. Call me the Cadet.”

Unimpressive cocked his head to the side. “I already do.”

The Cadet looked somewhat put out. “In that case,” he said, regaining his composure and casting his bright green blade. He opened his mouth to speak.

“Die?” Unimpressive finished.

“I wasn’t going to say die!”

“You were totally going to say die. Which, quite frankly, is a little cliche, above your rank, extremely predictable—” With a small effort of will, Vindictive flared into life before him. “—And woefully inaccurate,” he finished.

“Auuuuuuugh!” The Cadet came at him swinging.

“A little more original,” Unimpressive said offhandedly.

With a flare of white light, the two blades clashed in the air before them, then spread apart to come at one another again. They buzzed and whirled, as the two matched skills with one another. The Cadet was good, but Unimpressive was better. He countered the Cadet’s slower, more powerful strokes with his own, but his hoofwork was where he excelled. The Cadet was constantly neglecting his left hind leg, and as a result Unimpressive pushed him back a considerable distance.

“I never understood what the General saw in you over me,” his opponent said as their blades danced in the air before them.

“Really?” Unimpressive tried to hide the strain on his face as he pushed Vindictive against—actually, he had no idea what the Cadet’s blade was called. A searing white light burned where it met his own weapon. “Because I’m sort of kicking your ass right now. Wait, you’re talking about Masterstroke, right? Because if Esteem has a bunch of posters of me in his room I’m going to be more than a little weirded out.”

“Masterstroke!” the Cadet shrieked as he heaved against Unimpressive’s blade with all his magical muscle and pushed them away from one another. “You were a troublemaker! A drunk!”

“—But so handsome and charming!” Unimpressive finished with a sly grin as he blocked a set of strikes. “Your timing was off on that third hit, Caddy.”

“I should have been his apprentice,” the Cadet hissed. “I have power you do not.”

Unimpressive answered him by raising an eyebrow. “It’s cute how dramatic you are—Like this is some final confrontation between two arch-rivals. The real truth is that you’re just another royal for me to put down,” he lied. Unimpressive had been looking forward to giving this little prick his comeuppance for quite some time.

His comment sent the Cadet over the edge. With a snarl of rage, he took an overhead swing at Unimpressive, which he easily caught on Vindictive. Under the light of their clashing blades, Unimpressive flashed his opponent a grin before hauling off and punching him in the face.

The Cadet reeled, grabbing his muzzle with a hoof. Unfortunately, he still had the wit to use his magical senses and deflect Unimpressive’s followup strike. Unimpressive swung at him with a hoof again, but the Cadet caught his hoof in a block.

Unimpressive’s shoulders slumped. “He taught you martial arts?” he said in what was almost a whine.

The Cadet smiled, and the light from their connecting blades cast eerie shadows over his face. “I’m going to—”

“—Enjoy this?”

“Stop that!” his opponent shrieked before punching out with his hoof in a focused strike. It was a decently thrown punch, and the Cadet had clearly practiced whilst in the military. Unimpressive, however, had practiced whilst drunk in the less reputable Canterlot bars. He was more than up for a scuffle.

He clumsily caught the Cadet’s punch with both his forelegs, then reached out with his magic and grabbed the empty flask still attached to his harness. It spun out from under his robe and cracked the Cadet in the teeth. His opponent’s head reeled backwards as blood spurted from his bleeding lips and Unimpressive was forced to block the incandescent green blade with his own as the Cadet swung at him wildly.

He paid too much attention to their blades, and the Cadet recovered far faster than he would have expected. Unimpressive felt a hoof drive its way into his chest, and his immediate reaction was to throw up a little, filling his mouth with the burn of whiskey-tasting bile. He spotted another hoof coming his way, and woozily ducked the blow before spitting his sick all over the Cadet.

His foe drew away wearing a look of total revulsion, and Unimpressive swung at him with Vindictive. The Cadet deflected the blow and lunged at him, knocking him to the ground. His hooves came down on Unimpressive’s neck as his emerald blade kept Vindictive away.

“But I see now,” the Cadet managed through gritted teeth as Unimpressive pushed his face away with a hoof. “The error was Masterstroke’s, not mine. He was a fool, and he sought a fool to tutor.”

Unimpressive bit down on one of his forelegs, and the Cadet’s grip loosened as he drew away. With a heave, Unimpressive rolled him away and got back onto his hooves.

“That’s really bothering you, isn’t it?”

The table at the center of the room was enveloped in the Cadet’s magical aura, and the room was filled with the sound of wood being torn into splinters. They lunged through the air at Unimpressive, who took cover behind a wide forcefield.

“I was the top of our year. The pick of every officer. You were a nopony. A walking dropout. And he chose you.”

Then Unimpressive saw his chance. The easiest win he could possibly pull off. The ultimate cheat. “You want to know why?” The Cadet began to circle him, and Unimpressive circled his rival in turn.

“Enlighten me.”

“The day I got brought up to his office, I thought I was going to get thrown out. Instead I met Princess Celestia.”

“Lies.”

Unimpressive ignored him. “She knighted me,” he whispered, remembering. “You have no idea what a conversation with her can be like.” The knighthood hadn’t changed him. Five minutes with the Princess had. “And while I knelt on the floor, confused as to why a drunken scoundrel was becoming the general’s apprentice, Masterstroke spoke.” Unimpressive levelled his blade at the Cadet. “I’ll tell you what he said, Cadet.”

Then he charged. His bladecasting was superb, his hoofwork flawless. Suddenly the Cadet’s moves seemed predictable. He would follow his opponent’s eyes and examine his hoofwork, watching as the Cadet betrayed exactly where he was going to be next. He met every one of his enemy’s strokes with ease. It was surprising—he had never fought so well in his life.

“He called me by name,” he recalled. “Then he told me that it meant nothing.”

The Cadet and he were now wading through the ruins of the table. He broke his blade and sent it at Unimpressive, and Unimpressive mirrored the action. For a moment, they were alone amidst over two dozen red and green stars.

“Then he called me by rank—which was now Knight Bachelor. And he told me that it meant nothing.”

The Cadet dove backwards as their blades reformed in the space between them and resumed their clashing.

“And for the next decade he spent every day kicking my ass, so that one day I could turn around and kick yours. Also, I think he hated me: I was kind of lazy and unmotivated. And I made fun of his beard.”

“You still haven’t told me why he chose you,” the Cadet said.

“He told me that it was because I saw the world in a way that others didn’t. Then he told me the secret that Celestia has told to all her greatest commanders but one, and that all her commanders tell to their apprentices. You want to hear it?”

From behind the incandescent light of their clashing blades, the Cadet shot daggers at him. “Enlighten me.”

Unimpressive leaned in and said in a voice that was barely a whisper: “The entire Equestrian military is a front. Everypony in it serves an altogether different purpose from what they believe. Because the most important thing the most powerful mortal pony alive needs to know is that this world is not one to be won by war.”

The Cadet snorted. “Nonsense.”

“Is it? I don’t recall Masterstroke defeating Nightmare Moon and Discord.”

The Cadet’s face fell for a moment before aiming a jab at Unimpressive.

He parried and the Cadet jumped away from his riposte. “Tell me why you’d rather be named Cadet,” he said loudly.

“Because that is who I am!” his opponent cried as their blades wrestled in the air and cut long swaths through the floor beneath them. “Because that is what I am, Unimpressive!”

“Names mean nothing,” Unimpressive countered. “Titles mean nothing!” Every magelight in the room flared, and the they was bathed in sanguine light. “It is the cause, not the pony, that is important! The deeds, not the name, that should be remembered!”

The Cadet’s horn flared, and Unimpressive was suddenly caught in an emerald green net that carried him through the air over forty feet to strike the wall behind him.

The Cadet regarded him coolly. “And you call me dramatic,” he called out from across the room. “I think my general taught me lessons that were a little more practical.”

Thirteen balls of meteoric silver rolled harmlessly around the room. Unimpressive’s head lolled on his neck. Where had the Cadet learned to do that? It was now or never: “Esteem trusted you with The Power to Destroy, huh? How’d you get him to do that?”

From across the room, the Cadet smiled. “The General respects ability,” he said smugly. “And I have it. I mastered the binding spell in less than two weeks. Though now...”

He broke his blade and undid his binding spell as the green blade motes pinned Unimpressive to the wall. They seared his flesh, and Unimpressive was glad he was somewhat inebriated.

“He trusts you that much, eh? You’re his second in command?”

“I am his apprentice,” he said proudly.

“And that’s why you fight for that pig? Because he respects your talents?”

“Pig?” the Cadet asked incredulously. His blade motes flared, and they burned Unimpressive’s flesh. “General Esteem is a master. He is unstoppable. Everypony gets out of his way. Nothing is outside his grasp. Now what was it you said about deeds being remembered? You,” he spat, “you will not be remembered.” A glowing green ball of light floated up to sit before Unimpressive’s right eye.

“One more thing.” Unimpressive smiled. “You said that nothing was outside your general’s grasp,” he stated.

“Nothing,” the Cadet said forcefully.

“Not even the daughter he’s going to replace you with?”

His words left the Cadet wide eyed, and the other unicorn spluttered as words failed him. He gaped as the weight of Unimpressive’s words struck him and rang true. The General would rather have Rarity as his apprentice once again. The Cadet fought for the approval of a stallion who would abandon him. He hated the rejection he had received from General Masterstroke so many years ago, and he was going to feel the same rejection again. And finally his expression crested for the briefest moment into something Unimpressive could read from forty feet away: what was the point?

The Cadet’s blade burnt out, and the room was filled with the tinny pings of thirteen silver orbs dropping listlessly to the floor.

It was simple, really: he had lost his reason to fight. It had been a very weak reason in the first place—what kind of daddy issues must he have to need so much of his boss’s approval? A real pony needed to fight for a cause. A purpose. A feeling. Unimpressive dropped down to the floor and looked across the room, over the remains of the table and into the Cadet’s terrified eyes. A feeling.

Right now, he was feeling Vindictive.

The blade formed in front of him as he sprang forward towards the Cadet at top speed. Their duel had been greatly simplified—if Unimpressive reached the Cadet, the Cadet lost. Which meant that over the next forty feet his opponent was going to expend every ounce of power he had trying to kill him. They each had about five seconds to let everything loose.

Unimpressive couldn’t help but grin. It was time to get dangerous.

First the Cadet cast his binding spell, and a blazing green net materialized in the air and shot towards Unimpressive. Then the Cadet caused it to burst into darker green flames mid-flight.

Unimpressive could have scoffed. First, at the idea that he would allow the same spell to surprise him twice, and second at the ridiculousness of igniting a binding spell. If the spell hit him, the Cadet won. What was the point of lighting it on fire?

Hoofwork was everything. On his second bound forward from the wall, he pulled his forelegs back as they hit the ground and pivoted to swing his hindquarters forward. He didn’t need to be facing the net to cleave it in two. When Vindictive cut the net into parts, they sped past his head on either side of him. The proximity burned the back of his head, but his face was safe. His hood was blown up onto his head, and he was turning back around before he hit the ground.

Thirty feet. He broke Vindictive and sent thirteen glowing red blade motes spiralling towards the Cadet. His opponent spent precious time batting them out of the air, and Unimpressive was already reforming the blade as the Cadet shot a pale green ball of light
his way.

How original.

Twenty feet. The magic missile would reach him before Vindictive did. Unimpressive considered jumping to either side or stopping to erect a barrier, but those would slow him down considerably. While ducking would slow him down less, any time he gave the Cadet was time he could spend regaining his conviction and casting his blade.

It was time to pull a Pinkie Pie. He planted one of his front hooves and sprang off the ground as his side swung forward. It was a poor imitation of her style—he had nowhere near the agility she did, and as a he flipped over the missile he felt it singe the hair on his back. He completed his turn and hit the ground in what was arguably a landing. He was on four legs and still moving forward, so in Unimpressive’s opinion it met the criteria.

Ten feet. Clearly out of ideas, the Cadet sent a wave of telekinetic force at him, then drew the splintered remains of the table toward him. It was an interesting combination; normally the wave would counteract the fragments, but Unimpressive was going to have to counteract the wave.

Whatever. At least neither of them were green. The way they’d been throwing green and red around, you’d think they were having Hearth’s Warming Eve: The Duel.

Unimpressive cooked up and threw his own wave of force right before the Cadet’s hit him, and the two collided in the air. Unimpressive bounded through a churning wall of conflicting residual forces, and the churning air flattened his hood and mane against his neck.

As soon as he hit the ground, he pushed Vindictive against the Cadet’s neck, then spun them both around to face the oncoming shards of wood, which the Cadet had inexplicably set on fire. As though that would help in any way.

Unimpressive managed to stop all of the shards that would have hit him, but sadly only slowed the ones bound for the Cadet to non-lethal speeds. Oh well. He’d live.

He spun them around and pushed the Cadet into the wall, where he pinned him with Vindictive. “Open your mouth!” he shouted. When the Cadet did not do as he was told, Unimpressive decided he needed a little prompting, and burnt him with his blade motes. “Open your mouth!” The Cadet complied.

He broke a single silver orb away from Vindictive and set it on the other unicorn’s tongue. “Swallow.” The Cadet’s eyes widened. “Swallow!” He complied.

“Now,” Unimpressive said with a grin. “You use any magic or try anything sneaky, I take it out. Tell me you understand.”

The Cadet whimpered. “I understand.”

Unimpressive’s grin widened. “Good,” he said. “Now let’s go meet General Twilight Sparkle.”

She had held them as long as she could.

The problem was that there were always more fleeing ponies, and there were always more puppets. While Dash was strong, she couldn’t fight forever, and the puppets apparently could. How was she supposed to be able to take the unicorns with no Pinkie sense or allies? They would tear her to shreds if she got close and wasn’t careful.

She did have allies. Not all of the loyalists were fleeing—some of them would stop for a time to help her cover the constant stream of retreating ponies. Retreating ponies who wouldn’t have a hope without her. She could not afford to stop fighting. The puppets were coming from everywhere.

So Rainbow Dash had tried to be everywhere. It had even worked, at first: she was the fastest pegasus alive, after all. She’d darted between alleyways and rooftops, barking orders to her loyalists as she tore the puppets apart. She’d rush over to intercept magic spells and block thrown punches if it meant saving another pony’s life.

It was too exhausting, especially after her fight with Titan. Dash might be one of “the five,” but she wasn’t invincible. She began to slow down, and take a couple hits. They were minor things, really, but they accumulated.

After awhile her body just stopped listening. Her wings were bruised and battered, and she couldn’t fly. Her chest had taken one too many blows, and it hurt to breathe. Everything she had just wasn’t cutting it. Finally, in the midst of a group of enemy earthponies, Rainbow Dash fell.

She wasn’t going to fail—she couldn’t afford to fail, not with so many ponies depending on her for cover. She moved to get back up, and was thrown back to the ground as she took a kick in the chest and had the wind knocked out of her. The pain was building to intolerable levels, but Dash could take it. Had to take it. She tried to call the power of thunder, but failed. She just couldn’t focus. She was failing.

A hoof beat her head into the ground, and a splitting pain shot through her muzzle. Rainbow Dash went for her blade, but realized that she had dropped it when she fell. It was only then that she realized that she was going to die unless she did something.

With a thunderous crack, the entire world went white, and Dash’s eyes—the only thing that hadn’t been hurting—cried out in pain. She looked away, and her vision slowly returned to her. As it did, she heard explosions, bangs and pops that made the ground shake. Another extremely loud crack sounded out and Dash was glad she was looking away from the source. The entire world was bleached a grayish purple for a moment, as though a lightning bolt had struck not ten feet behind her. It was then that she noticed that every puppet that had been around her moments before was gone.

She rolled over to see that every puppet was gone—over fifty of them had been taken out in seconds. Before her stood Princess Luna—or so Dash thought at first. It was the mane that seemed so familiar.

Twilight’s eyes were hard and unforgiving. They glowed with an inner light, as though within each of them burned a piece of the thunder she had just used to smite her enemies. Her mane was deep blue mass of ethereal energy, blowing in an unfelt breeze. Thin ripples of electric pink and all kinds of shades of purple would occasionally surface from within the swirling expanse, giving it a deep, nebulous look. Around her head orbited a tiny fragment of a purple gemstone.

“Rainbow Dash,” she said. Despite her appearance, her voice was soft. “I wronged you. I can’t imagine what it must have been like.”

She took a step closer to Rainbow Dash, and Dash’s first instinct was to draw away. “But you didn’t have free will, Dash. You weren’t yourself. You were Wrong.”

Dash closed her eyes. “I made Wrong up. She was an excuse.”

“The easiest way to change a pony is to take from them everything that they have and work from a blank slate. Nihilus took your friends. She took your pride. She took your loyalty and your flight. She took these things away and then she made her spell force your mind down the darker path. And in the end, you broke free.”

“Fluttershy set me free.”

“You broke free. As soon as Fluttershy opened the door for you, you didn’t even hesitate before jumping through it to help a friend in need. And when you did, it wasn’t Wrong that came to Pinkie Pie’s rescue, it was Rainbow Dash.”

This time when Twilight stepped towards her, Dash didn’t back away. She remembered chanting her own name inside her head as she descended on her falling friend. Rainbow Dash.

“If ever there was a way to break a pony beyond repair, it would be what you went through, Rainbow Dash. But it didn’t. Because you are not something that can be broken. You can change, you can suffer, and you can die, but you will always be there for the ponies who need you. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

Twilight extended a hoof. “I know you can get up on your own, Rainbow Dash. But I would prefer you take my hoof.”

Take my hoof. Dash immediately began to reach for Twilight’s outstretched foreleg.

Then she stopped. This wasn’t something she was going to do just because of her subconscious desire to obey Twilight Sparkle. She had to make a choice. Dash saw Twilight swallow nervously, her hoof hanging.

It was an easy choice to make, especially once Dash realized that Twilight wasn’t offering help—she was asking for it. Dash took her hoof. She would always be there for her friends. She felt Twilight tap their harmonic connection for the first time ever.

Twilight came out of her blink with a crack and a star-like flash of purple light. Rarity reacted to her arrival first.

“Twilight!” She gasped. “You look absolutely stunning, darling.”

Twilight looked around her. The Elements of Harmony already told her that Rarity, Applejack, and Pinkie Pie were here, but she was really looking for somepony else.

“Princess Luna,” Twilight greeted her monarch with a curt bow. “The tunnels below ground are cleared?”

Luna took her in with an approving glance. “Indeed they are, general. Our last ponies should be arriving hence.”

Twilight nodded. “And General Esteem?”

The Princess smiled slightly. “Retreated.”

“Excellent. I have ordered every pony I found above ground to convene in Saddle Square. They should all get the message.”

“Uh, Saddle Square?” Applejack said. “You sure that’s gonna be big enough for over a thousand ponies?”

“I widened it.”

Applejack glanced at her mane. “Oh. Alright then.”

Twilight turned back to Luna. “I want a promotion.”

Luna cocked her head. “General of the Armies of Equestria is the greatest position that thou canst hold.”

“Name me Master General.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed. “That was the rank Titan bestowed upon the leader of his troops.”

“I know. But the leader of his troops was—”

“Celestia,” Luna finished with a widening smile.

“You and she are the only ponies who have ever defeated him. Make me Master General, and we’ll send him a message. I’ll outrank General Esteem as well. And it will be something I choose to do, this time. I want this.”

“I will not deny thee the rank, Twilight Sparkle. Thou art now Master General.”

“Excellent. Now do you have any of the night sky to spare, Princess?”

At this, Luna’s smile grew into a full-fledged grin.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Twilight said. “Rarity.” She turned to the other unicorn. “I need a uniform. What do you have that says, ‘Godslayer?’”

Rarity looked like a filly waking up on Hearth’s Warming Eve.

“It’s so sticky,” Rarity whined. “How am I supposed to make anything out of this?” She attempted to peel some of the sky off of her hooves with little success.

They had convened in a building on the edge of Saddle Square that Twilight had decided to use as an impromptu headquarters. Everypony was present except for Fluttershy, who would arrive shortly.

Luna was also there, helping Rarity to shape and weave her gift into something Twilight could use. The uniform’s purpose was not to enforce her appearance as Celestia’s successor and ponykind’s general. While it would certainly do those things, its real purpose was to help Rarity remember who she was. Twilight had been half-crazy over the past two weeks, unconscious the month before that, and trapped inside the Sliver of Darkness the week before that. Rarity needed to stay in touch with the designer she once was, instead of the soldier she had become. As a friend, Rarity’s emotional well-being fell on Twilight—but then, Twilight was responsible for everything, now.

Everything. How had Celestia coped with being the ruler of ponykind for a thousand years? How had the princess handled the knowledge that every time she made a mistake, fate would exact a toll of pony lives? What was more, why would Titan ever want to hold that position?

“Twilight, darling.” Twilight had to suppress a smile at the lilt that had returned to her friend’s voice. Her plan was meeting some success, at least. “What is that thing spinning around your head?”

She plucked the gemstone out of its orbit and made it hover in the air in front of her. “This? This is a piece of the Element of Magic. It carries all my protective enchantments.”

Rarity pursed her lips. “I guess you’ll have to keep it then, won’t you? A shame, really, I had the nicest idea for a chapeau in mind, but if you really want the spinning rock it will have to do.”

“Hey,” said Dash, “how come we have the whole Elements but you only need a piece to protect you?”

Twilight was happy to explain. “Mine doesn’t need any power, like yours, because I have all my unicorn magic with me at all times. It just tells my magic how to behave when I channel energy into it, like this.” She placed the gemstone back into its orbit and it began to spin faster. It glowed Twilight’s standard purple as it eventually formed into a halo of magical light.

“Ooooh,”Pinkie said, her eyes widening. “I want to touch it! Can I touch it?”

“That’s a bad idea, Pinkie.”

Rarity squinted at the glowing circlet. “I suppose I can make it work. A hat wouldn’t have gone well with your new mane anyway. How do you get it like that?”

“Lots and lots of magic. Rainbow Dash does it when she sonic rainbooms.”

“So if that’s just a piece,” Applejack said, “where’s the rest?”

“Equinox,” Twilight said simply.

Everypony in the room gave her a confused look except Luna, whose expression immediately darkened. Applejack spoke up.

“Say again, sugar?”

From her null-space, Twilight pulled another glowing amethyst shard. It drifted lazily around her entire body in a small circle. Then another purple orb winked into place around her, then another, and another. Soon she stood at the centre of a galaxy composed of amethyst stars. There were exactly twenty-seven of them, including the one orbiting her head.

The other twenty six collapsed in on themselves, joining to form a long, slender shaft that blazed with a light so intense everypony in the room had to look away. Everypony except for Twilight, of course. She had added a light filter to her protective enchantments.

“Equinox,” she repeated. “The spell to enchant a blade is detailed in the earliest chapter of The Power to Destroy. It’s also a beautiful piece of magic. I can’t fathom the kind of mind that would create something like it. Titan’s spells are complex, but straightforward. This is art.

“All of us have changed,” she said, looking over her blade at her friends. “Before Nihilus, I would never have considered wielding the power to destroy. Now I will do it only reluctantly, but I still see the beauty in the magic itself. I’ve been denying the change in myself for far too long. I was afraid of becoming a monster. I still am. But I think it would be more terrifying if we couldn’t change.

“Equinox,” she said. “A perfect balance between light and darkness. I am not afraid of my darkness any longer. I will always be Twilight Sparkle.”

Luna stood from where she had been helping Rarity with her fabric and walked over to where Twilight stood. “Thou dost remind me of Celestia.”

Twilight masked her anger well. As far as she was concerned, that was an insult. Celestia was the reason she was there in the first place. Luna leaned in and whispered in her ear.

“Roof.” She sounded furious.

Twilight cleared her throat. “I’ll be back. Make sure Rarity doesn’t hurt herself on that fabric while I’m gone.”

“It’s like I’m sewing into solid oil! And I swear that star just burnt me!” Rarity wailed.

Twilight blinked up to the roof, where Luna met her in a matter of moments.

“Equinox,” the princess stated calmly. “One might wonder why thou hast chosen that particular name.”

“My name is Twilight Sparkle. It seemed to fit.”

“Thou hast no other motives?”

Twilight was beginning to wonder why they had to be away from the others for this. “What do you mean, other motives?”

“My blade is named Nadir.” This Twilight knew; they had been working together for over two weeks. “Celestia’s is Zenith.” This Twilight also knew; she had opened a history textbook before. “Terra’s is Exogenesis.”

This Twilight didn’t know. “Exogenesis?”

“It is an old word. It refers to the belief that life and magic first came to this world by an asteroid. Creation through destruction. Beauty through catastrophe. Such is Terra’s prerogative.”

“So what’s Titan’s?”

“Singularity. Among the many things it can be taken to mean, one stands out. It is everything within the space of nothing. An inescapable void predating time, containing all of existence itself.”

“Something so massive that it curves space more than I can. The dawn of existence.”

“Indeed. The true blade has some interesting properties. Hope you do not ever encounter it, or even the shadow that he wields as a puppet.”

Twilight considered Luna’s words for a moment. “So that’s what this is about,” she said icily. “You think I’m setting myself up as the next Princess Celestia. As a god.”

Luna spoke in low, level tones. “The astral sphere is our domain, Twilight Sparkle.”

“You were the one who ordered me to become a symbol for ponykind to rally around.”

“I fear, Twilight Sparkle, that thou wilt not relinquish this power.”

At this, Twilight barked out a humorless laugh. “That’s what this is about, then. You think that I’m not going to return Empyrean’s power to its rightful owner. You think I’m going to take it for myself and become Equestria’s new god. I’ll use the Elements to defeat Titan and Terra then become Princess Twilight Sparkle.”

A thought occurred to her. “I could, couldn’t I? They all think Celestia is dead. I’ve already taken her place.”

“Celestia considered thee the best of ponies, Twilight Sparkle.”

The look that Twilight gave Luna was positively caustic. “I am well aware of what Celestia thought of me. She took the best of her little ponies and made them a weapon to be used against Nightmare Moon. If the best of us deserves only manipulation, then what are the rest of us worth, to the alicorns? Oh, I know why she did it, I even agree with her reasoning. What’s one little filly compared to the safety of Equestria? The only reason—”

“Dost thou truly think that Celestia—”

“Don’t talk over me!” Twilight snapped. “The only thing that makes Celestia any different from Titan is the fact that she was willing to die to give us a chance. Other than that they’re just a pair of gods doing what gods do best.”

Luna looked as though she was resisting the urge to shout. As a goddess, the sound would have carried over half the city. “And thou couldst do better?!”

“No,” Twilight said adamantly. “You think I want power, of all things? I’ve been a perfect ten on the Coruscare scale since I was eleven. If that wasn’t enough, I’ve had the ear of our eternal God-Princess and a genius intellect besides. If I had ever wanted power, I wouldn’t live in a tree. I don’t want to be Princess Twilight Sparkle any more than I want to be Master General Twilight Sparkle. It’s a role I accept only because it’s what Celestia programmed me to do—which is what needs to be done. And the fact that my friends and I are the embodiment of the magic of friendship forces us to constantly risk our lives isn’t lost on me, either. No, Princess Luna, I don’t want power. You alicorns don’t seem to be a very happy lot.”

Luna looked a little shocked, so Twilight carried on. “Now up to this point you have been forthright about your desire to use me like Celestia did, so I will do you the same courtesy. I intend to destroy your parents, your brother, and General Esteem. If you help me, you will get your sister back. And I can assure you, Princess: I will need your help.”

The Princess regarded her, her face an expressionless mask. “Thou hast learned hard lessons, Twilight Sparkle.”

“I wasn’t given a choice in that regard, either.”

“I will help thee. And for what it is worth, Twilight Sparkle, I hope that thou findest happiness when this war is over.”

Happiness. The word sounded strange in her mind. “Thank you, Princess. Fluttershy has just arrived with Unimpressive... and a prisoner. I’ll meet you inside.”

Luna took flight, and Twilight blinked back into the building and took in her surroundings.

Rarity was still wrestling with Twilight’s new uniform in the corner, and Pinkie Pie had apparently decided to help her—by chewing on a piece of the sky. Applejack and Rainbow Dash were conversing in low tones, and from the looks of the hoof gestures Dash was making, they were talking about their previous battle. Fluttershy had barely a scratch on her, but Unimpressive was covered in scrapes and bruises. Between them was a pale green unicorn whom Twilight recognized.

Twilight ignored him at first. “Are you alright, Fluttershy?”

“Oh, I’m fine, Twilight. You look, um...”

“I’m perfectly alright. Never felt better, in fact.”

From behind her, Rainbow Dash spoke. “She’s back to being awesome! Uh, not that you weren’t awesome before.”

Fluttershy smiled slightly. “Well I’m glad everypony is okay now.” The subtext was clear: because we weren’t okay before.

“I’m fine,” Unimpressive said loudly. “Thanks for asking.”

Twilight shot him a flat look. “Good to hear.”

“Yeah, I back-flipped over a war spell. No big deal. You guys want to hear about it?”

“Not particularly.”

Unimpressive looked a bit hurt.

“You,” Twilight said to the green unicorn. “I remember you. Nihilus threatened to send your head back to Canterlot in a box. I have a couple questions for you.”

The unicorn glowered at her.

“Rainbow Dash,” Twilight called out without taking her eyes from the green unicorn.

“Yeah?”

“Go find Spitfire and bring her here. Pinkie Pie, get Noble and Buttercup. Fluttershy, find my parents.”

Dash saluted before jetting off. Pinkie Pie bounced away with Fluttershy in tow. While it was true Twilight would need her other staff present, she really just didn’t want them around for the interrogation. She would need to go for intimidation—something she had learned a bit about during her time with Nihilus.

She momentarily suspended the majority of her emotions and let herself fall into a cool state of dispassionate reason. The green pony’s resolve to resist her was a just another form of system. One that she could break, if she played her cards right.

“I am going to ask you questions,” she said simply. “You will answer them all truthfully and to the best of your ability.” She approached the unicorn and stood immediately in front of him. “Do you understand?”

He spat at her, and she knocked it out of the air with thought. Then she conjured a single mote of Equinox and flicked it across his cheek, drawing blood.

He laughed. “I will not betray my general. No matter how many times you tickle my cheek.”

Twilight cocked her head. “Unicorn blades have interesting properties.”

She shifted to the side slightly, and the green pony was thrown past her. He spun through the air and impacted the wall behind her with a dull thump. Twilight didn’t turn around. Everypony in the room was looking at her, completely silent.

“I can dismantle any magical defense with a touch. The only thing you won’t be doing is wasting my time.”

From his place on the wall, the unicorn coughed. “That’s impossible,” he wheezed.

Twilight turned and approached the unicorn. As she did so, she lifted him until his face was level with hers. “Odd, then, that I have a hold on your body and you’re pinned to a wall.” She forced his head to turn until she was whispering into his ear. “You know what else I have? martial immunity.”

She let him fall to the floor, and her voice became harsh. “I can break all sorts of rules, kiddo, and if you don’t give me what I am asking for, I’ll take it from you with mind magic. No possible action you can take precludes my acquisition of your knowledge.”

Twilight felt a hoof on her shoulder. It was Applejack. “Uh, Twi?”

“I know what I’m doing, Applejack.”

The unicorn’s face was turning red from the blood flow. “What do you want to know?”

“Where is Queen Terra?”

He coughed again. “I don’t know.”

Applejack gritted her teeth. “Lie,” she stated boldly.

Twilight composed a spell. She worked from her knowledge of the Element of Honesty itself, imitating its magic to create something that would force the green stallion to tell the truth. She was surprised how easily it came to her. It was much, much easier to manipulate the Elements now that she was Twilight Sparkle; she had learned as much when she forged Equinox during her conflict with Titan.

The unicorn shuddered as her spell hit him, and Twilight took him down from the wall in time for him to vomit all over the floor.

“Aggressive mind magic doesn’t feel very good, does it? Be glad I didn’t use the spell Titan used on me.”

“Also,” Unimpressive threw in. “A piece of Vindictive is still sitting inside you. Don’t think that you can get rid of me that easily.”

The unicorn coughed again before looking up at her blearily. “No,” he said. “It doesn’t feel very good at all.” Then his hoof shot up to his mouth.

“I’m glad to see that it’s working,” Twilight said. “Now, onto my questions...”

“Almost three hundred of us are dead,” Noble said angrily as soon as he entered their command centre. “The royals are on the retreat for now but they could turn around any minute. And they will, as soon as they realize just how weak we are right now. Mind telling me why you have everypony sitting out in the open, general?”

Noble was the last to arrive. Her friends, her parents, Noble, Buttercup, Unimpressive, Spitfire, and Luna were all present. It was time for her to dictate their next course of action.

“You think we should go to ground?”

“Yes. Inner Canterlot is ours only momentarily.”

“What would hiding again do? They’ve already proved that they can find us. No, I have other plans.”

“Those plans being?”

“Retribution.” Twilight nodded to Rarity and Luna, and they both lifted her new uniform into the air and moved to stand on either side of her as she spoke.

“Retribution?!” Noble asked incredulously. “We can’t win a war of attrition, not with the royals. We might be able to do some damage, but they’ll hit us back just as hard.”

The first thing to go on were her shoes. Four relatively tiny slippers made from a blue that was so dark as to be almost black were slipped over her hooves. Once on, they instantly hardened into a glossy metal that hugged the contours of her hooves perfectly. “No,” Twilight said. “They won’t.”

“And why is that?”

Next was her suit. Rarity and Luna each took a piece of oddly-shaped sky fabric and draped them over Twilight. Then, they set to work joining the two to one another with magic, sealing them together first along her legs and belly, and finally up her chest. The fabric covered every bit of her up to her neck. It was still the dark blue of the night sky, but was not quite as dark as her shoes. What was more, it had a strange depth to it, as though Twilight were wearing an ocean, or more accurately, the sky. Twilight wondered how she was ever going to take the uniform off, or if she was even supposed to ever take it off.

“Because,” she said in answer to Noble’s question, “they won’t exist.”

Next Rarity affixed a row of gleaming stars to Twilight’s suit along the seam that ran up one side of her chest. Twilight wondered why she needed buttons when her uniform was magically sealed onto her body—and stretched to fit it perfectly.

Noble apparently had nothing to say in response to Twilight’s declaration, so she continued. “This isn’t a counterattack,” she said as Rarity adjusted her buttons. “This is extermination.”

Luna touched her horn to the seam under the buttons where the two fabrics met, and it changed in color to a perfectly straight blue-purple stripe that ran down her body and each of her legs. Twilight smiled slightly. It was the color of the last light of dusk.

“We end this war tonight. The puppets, Esteem, Empyrean, Terra, and Titan. I’ve gathered information and come up with a plan to get all of them. To do it I will need everypony’s cooperation. Ending this war is the ultimate goal of everypony in this room and everypony outside in that square. As such your cooperation is expected.”

She gave Noble a meaningful look, and he nodded slowly. Rarity fixed a collar of the same blue-purple color around Twilight’s neck, and Luna fused it in place with magic. No, Twilight decided, the uniform was definitely not meant to come off.

“Spitfire.”

“Go ahead, general.”

“I need you to gather every pegasus capable of manipulating the feral clouds. Dash, you’re with her. We need the biggest storm cloud you can manage over Empyrean’s barrier. The puppets don’t have the ability to manipulate the weather, because Titan doesn’t want the weather to be manipulated. The cloud will give our trained pegasi ammunition to bombard the enemy with and cover our approach from the sky.”

“What about the royals?”

“They have far fewer trueponies than we do. Engaging us in the cloud would be suicide.”

Rarity and Luna began attaching a harness over top of the skin-tight suit. Twilight was glad that the purple-blue harness was not very complicated. With the ability to tuck her blade away in null-space, she had no reason to store things on her person. Still, she supposed it looked nice.

“While you’re doing that, my mother and father will gather a team and hit the glass factory. Break the glass, break the equipment, break everything you can break. We need to arm our unicorns within the next twenty minutes. That said, Buttercup will go back into the labyrinth with a group of ponies to salvage what she can from the armory. She knows the layout best.”

“Everypony else, get the army ready. Your presence outside will be good for morale. They just suffered heavy losses. They’ll need it.”

Noble cleared his throat. “What will you be doing?”

“Supervising,” Twilight said curtly. “I can be everywhere at once.”

The elder pegasus still looked wary. “If we do this, they’ll know we’re coming. They’ll be prepared. We’ll be facing every unit the Royal Army can muster as soon as you break that barrier.”

The last piece of Twilight’s uniform was the cloak. It almost reminded her of the one she wore as Mare-Do-Well. Except this one was the pitch black of the night sky seen from a mountaintop, and was covered in burning stars. Luna and Rarity fastened the cloak under her collar with a sunburst. Twilight was almost certain that the clasp had been Luna’s idea. The Princess was reminding her that she was Celestia’s general. As if she could forget.

As she gave the clasp a couple tugs, Rarity looked at Twilight, her eyes questioning. Do you like it?

Twilight gave a small smile and a slight nod. Yes.

“Twenty minutes will most definitely give them time to prepare,” Twilight said. “But only just. Esteem won’t have much time to second guess any of his actions.”

Noble cocked his head. “What are you planning?”

Twilight conjured an illusory facsimile of the Canterlot palace. “Well...”

Minutes later, their meeting had concluded and everypony was rushing to complete their tasks. Twilight had two more things to do.

“Unimpressive.”

The other unicorn stopped and regarded her. “Do I actually get a job? Because mingling kind of isn’t my thing.”

Twilight exhaled through her lips. “When the fighting breaks out, I need you to stay alive. Understand?”

“Gee, now that you’ve instructed me to, I suppose I will try to stay alive.”

“No, Unimpressive. Not try. You will live. Do you understand me?”

“You know there’s more to surviving on the battlefield than resolve, Twilight.”

“I don’t care what situation you get yourself into. You will consider your own life to be more valuable than anypony’s, excluding the five.”

Unimpressive’s smile faded slowly. “What are you planning?”

“How did you become a knight?”

“Twilight, I don’t think—”

“I have places to be, Unimpressive. Answer me!”

He considered her for a moment. “Celestia knighted me herself. Made Masterstroke take care of me and train me. Why?”

Twilight nodded, her suspicions confirmed. “She had no idea I was going to come along,” she said to herself, “and she needed to know she had a pony she could count on when the time came. A pony who was a magical talent, and who she could teach how to make war.” She grabbed Unimpressive by the shoulders. “You need to survive. You know all of my friends by now.”

“You are making zero sense right now, Twilight.”

“Every part of my plan needs a backup plan. Including the contingency that I die.”

“You can’t die!”

“I don’t intend to,” she said with a smile. “But there’s more to surviving on the battlefield than resolve, isn’t there?”

Twilight vanished, leaving the knight to stand alone and baffled.

“Okay, Rarity, ten minutes to go-time. Give me the rules, hard and fast.”

Rarity arched an eyebrow at Twilight as she cast her blade. “Don’t,” she said simply.

“Don’t?”

Rarity laughed melodiously. “If my talent suddenly became magic, do you think I could learn to outdo you in ten minutes?”

“Oh come on,” Twilight said. “That’s—”

“Exactly the same, darling. He became the best mortal bladecaster alive for two decades, and he’s been getting better ever since. He’s worth two of me when I’m at my best. You aren’t going to learn anything useful in ten minutes. It isn’t like it’s just one spell, Twilight— it’s as complicated and deep an art as the rest of war magic combined.”

Twilight sagged. She was really looking forward to the blade thing.

“Still,” Rarity said, putting a hoof to her chin, “I suppose that you can shoot it around and swing at anything without a blade of its own. When it comes to Esteem, just keep teleporting around and throw buildings at him, or whatever it is you do.”

“Got it.”

“Are you sure you want to do this, Twilight? He’s strong. His talent is war itself—he gets all kinds of spells to go along with that. Brutish magics, that he can cast with relative ease.”

“I’m only going to be distracting him, Rarity. He’s too proud to pass up a challenge for the title of strongest unicorn alive.”

But there was more to it than that. Esteem had smiled as he pushed the Sliver of Darkness through Twilight’s eye. Twilight had spoken before of retribution, but there was more to it than that. The memory of the agony, the desperation, and the abandonment she had felt came back to her unbidden. She could admit to herself that the real word she should have used was vengeance. Unrestrained, unmitigated vengeance.

“You know,” Twilight said quietly, “that if I get the chance to kill him, I’m not going to pass it up. Every day he’s alive more ponies die.”

“I hope that you don’t,” Rarity said somberly. “I wish I could do it, just so you wouldn’t have to.”

“You’re a good friend, Rarity. Anything you’d like me to tell him for you?” Twilight grinned.

“Twilight! That is not funny. He and I are done. I have nothing to say to him.”

“Right then. I’ll see you in the court. Stay safe.”

Rarity gave her a meaningful look. “You too.”

“I have a couple of wagons coming to pick up the shards,” Twilight said as she came out of her teleport. “Get ready to pack everything up and move out.”

Starlight Sparkle regarded her coolly. “That’s no way to greet your mother.”

“Sorry. I’m in full-blown general-mode.”

Her mother worked her mouth for several seconds. “Take me with you,” she said suddenly.

“Take you with me?” Twilight asked flatly.

“Against the General. I can teleport. I’ll be able to get out when you do. I’m as good a war unicorn as Unimpressive, and almost as good at bladecasting.”

“Then who would look after dad?”

“Your father can look after himself,” her mother said urgently. “It’s you that I’m worried about.”

“I can take care of myself. Perfect ten, remember?”

“I remember,” her mother said quietly. “I remember giving my daughter to Celestia because of it. That’s what almost killed you in the first place.”

Twilight sighed. “Mom, I know you want me to be safe. But I’m not safe. I haven’t been safe. I won’t be safe until this is over. And nothing you can do is going to change that. So please, stop trying to rid this world of everything that can hurt me. It’s too big a job for you, and getting hurt is a part of who we are.”

Her mother’s face went through a myriad of expressions within the space of a heartbeat. Anger, regret, sadness—Twilight was hard-pressed to read them all. But eventually she landed on the one Twilight had been going for—resolve.

“You never used to argue with your mother.”

“You never used to fight evil with a magic sword.”

Her mother hugged her. “Stay safe, daughter. I am proud of you. Your father would say the same if he weren’t busy lifting tonnes and tonnes of glass.”

“I won’t lie, giving you chores for once was a little gratifying.”

Her mother gave her a flat look.

Empyrean's second barrier was much easier to break than the first.

It was smaller. Not just a little smaller, but smaller in a volumetric sense—smaller by a cubed proportion. Not only that, but Empyrean hadn’t been maintaining the spell very well—it had already proved ineffective, so why should he? Twilight also knew the motions she needed to go through already. She didn’t need to come up with a solution, only reproduce one.

She probably didn’t even need to split her mind to break the thing. Still, she did it anyway, breaking her consciousness into two parts.

She named the second part Sparkle. It was actually a terrible name, considering they were both identical minds—the warmongering Twilight and the pacifist Sparkle were now in both of them. Still, no naming conventions existed for mind splitting, so Twilight worked with what she knew.

Sparkle handled the spells to destroy the barrier while Twilight kept watch outside. Loss of sight was not an acceptable side effect, this time. She had to make sure that Esteem was not sending scouts outside the barrier.

The haziness of Empyrean’s shield meant that she could only see about three meters of the other side, and none of her magical senses penetrated the field. If something were to come through to kill her, she would have little warning. It was nerve wracking, but tedious.

Seconds turned into minutes as Sparkle took her time with their spells. She made sure the work she was doing could be seen, making lots of shock waves and colorful bursts appear on both sides of the proximate barrier. It was as if she were striking it with a giant hammer.

Finally it went down, shattering along its enormous length. Twilight admired the way it broke, fracturing into millions of equal pieces that dissolved before they hit the ground. Then she looked out at the entirety of the Royal Army.

It was composed mostly of puppets, but there were trueponies interspersed throughout the legion. At a glance, Twilight would estimate that they totalled somewhere around a thousand—almost two hundred more than the number of ponies she had brought. What was worse, the average puppet could take the average pony in a fight—though it was also true that Twilight had brought several above average ponies. The Royal Army had gathered at the point where Twilight broke the barrier, ready to meet the army that she led against them.

Except Twilight was alone.

“This?” Twilight called out to the army of ponies and puppets. “This isn’t the loyalist army. This isn’t even the reserve.”

Of course Esteem would order them to form up in anticipation of a head-on engagement—such an engagement would surely end in his favor. With twenty minutes to get the entire army organized, he had probably been too busy with preparations to realize that Twilight wasn’t attacking out of desperation.

“This isn’t me using the power to destroy against ponykind. This isn’t even me offering to surrender after the events of tonight.”

She had chosen the point of entry deliberately. Directly behind the Royal Army was the thirteenth entrance to the labyrinth. It was the very entrance Celestia had used to show her the thing in the first place.

“This isn’t even the right direction, so you should probably all turn around. This is a distraction.”

It was then that Unimpressive blew the lid off of the labyrinth entrance in the loudest and most audacious manner possible. He leapt out of the undercity as the giant metal cylinder clanged to the ground behind him. Twilight thought she saw him take a drink from his flask, and wondered briefly where the knight kept getting his alcohol.

From out behind him spilled the unicorns of the loyalist army. The first ones out were the strongest—Twilight saw her mother’s and father’s blades glowing against the dark of the night quite clearly. They didn’t throw any spells at the Royal Army, but rather focused entirely on defending themselves and the ponies who were still clambering out of the opening. The first barrage of spells the Royal Army threw met a polychrome shield powered by dozens of the strongest unicorns in the world.

That was when the bulk of her forces struck. They came from the two approaches beside her, swarming up the streets and and onto the well-cut grass of the palace’s plaza. They weren’t going to attack the Royal Army from the front, but rather would manoeuvre around to its sides, assaulting the army where it was disorganized and unprotected.

Ponies in the Royal Army barked orders, and they began to hastily reform their ranks to meet the oncoming horde.

Moments before the two forces met, the skies opened and over a hundred pegasi came pouring down, raining thunder and lightning on their foes. Twilight noted that the distinct, prismatic bolt that was most definitely Rainbow Dash’s hit their enemies first. Under the barrage of sound, light, and electricity, the Royals covered their eyes and ears. They were blind and ineffective.

This was when her force collided with theirs; when every unicorn under her command abandoned their defense and let loose their own attacks. The Royal Army did not meet its foes head on as an organized force, but rather was crushed from three sides as its ranks descended into chaos.

“This?” Twilight said to herself quietly. “This is not a fight you can win.”

Then she teleported, focusing quite a bit so as to cover the immense distance. She landed far past the battling armies, at the foot of the palace. Chateau Empyrean did not look much different from the last time she saw it, other than the fact that the extensive damage caused by Titan and Celestia had been repaired.

She had a multi-part task to accomplish. Just like Empyrean’s barrier or the Royal Army, her enemies were a system she would need to dismantle. It was time to begin, starting with pride.

“Esteem!” she cried, her voice carrying for kilometers thanks to a simple spell. “Esteem! You dare to call yourself my better. I, who have destroyed gods and worse. You are nothing before me. Not an equal, not a rival, not a pony. Come, General. Come and die.”

She waited. Dimly she heard the sound of the fighting ponies far behind her. Esteem’s pride would hopefully prompt him to stay and fight her rather than join his army with his reserve.

More importantly, Twilight had played Titan’s pride. She hadn’t even mentioned the eldest of the gods, instead opting to taunt a mortal pony. She had spoken of destroying gods as though he were simply another item on her itinerary.

Hopefully both of them would stay behind in the interest of killing her rather than taking the field. Twilight’s friends were already exhausted, meaning Esteem could do untold damage—in addition to rallying his forces. Worse still would be Titan—his mere presence gave puppets extra sentience. With him on the field, the unicorn puppets would be able to cast even deadlier spells. Twilight could not let this happen, especially since Luna was not part of the fight.

It was extraordinarily dark out—the massive storm cloud meant that the only visible stars sat upon Twilight’s back. In addition to her very slightly luminescent mane and eyes, the only other light came from the softly glowing lines along her skin-tight suit. It was fortunate that an easy spell allowed her to see in the dark perfectly—she watched as the wide double-doors to the palace opened.

Out came puppets and trueponies. Twilight stopped counting at five dozen, concluding that Esteem was sending out his entire reserve.

This was her other task. Esteem had, like any sensible pony, kept a portion of his soldiers in the easily-defensible keep. They could reinforce the Royal Army in the field and flank her own forces, turning the engagement in his favor. Twilight would make sure that the reinforcements never reached the battlefield—even if there were around two hundred of them.

Even with her vision spell, her enemies were colorless forms set against almost total blackness. Twilight could barely make out the silhouette of the palace, its many towers rising behind them. Occasionally, a powerful burst of light from the distant conflict would briefly illuminate the elegant spires. The sound of two hundred sets of hooves clopping against the shallow stone steps leading to the main entrance filled her ears.

The main avenue to the palace was set on a slight enough incline that the steps were not only shallow, but staggered in sets of five. The simple terrain would make for an honest battlefield. Twilight closed her eyes and tapped into her magical senses while communicating with her second mind.

Precision and care were paramount. Sparkle would handle the mind and the magic. She would interpret all the information their magical senses delivered, as their basic five senses were unreliable. She would also prepare any more complicated spells, as well as directing the flow of combat. Her detachment from the body would give her a good view of the bigger picture. Sparkle would coordinate.

Body and blade would go to Twilight. She wouldn’t have to think more than a second ahead at any point in time. She could focus on fulfilling their current task as efficiently as possible. Her spells would be the ones that Twilight could cast without thought—simple things like moment fields and telekinesis. Sparkle would line up the targets. Twilight would pull the trigger.

Twilight stood, eyes closed, as the enemy soldiers filled the space around her. She was effectively blind to any attack that they might throw at her, but she didn’t worry. Sparkle had her back. She trusted herself.

Unicorns, Sparkle informed her. There were many unicorns. As was sensible, they would be covering the non-unicorns in the small bit of trivial protective magic required to keep her from directly tampering with them. As defeating two hundred ponies through indirect manipulations such as projectiles, telekinesis, and the blade would be exhausting, she would have to remove their protections. Unconsciousness and death would do this nicely. So would any contact with her grossly powerful new weapon, Equinox. Though to be fair, stripping their defenses away with her blade would be pointless when she could simply channel enough energy through the weapon to reduce any pony to ash.

“Why are we still waiting?” she asked with polite curiosity.

“It seemed rational to wait for them to begin. The destruction caused by their barrage should level everything around us. The seconds it takes them to realize that we have disappeared and rearm themselves will be seconds that we will spend well.”

“Sensible enough,” Twilight said to herself. “You speak of them as though they are a whole.”

“They are not, which means—”

“—Weaknesses of the individual should be taken into account.”

“Placing you in the immediate vicinity of a pony should trigger a strong reaction of self-defense—”

“Causing unity with the whole to break away.”

“You’ll be moving around quite a bit.”

“Fine by me.” Twilight could get used to having two minds. Sparkle was very agreeable.

“Go!”

Twilight opened her eyes and saw light. So many spells were coming at her simultaneously, she was momentarily blinded.

Sparkle teleported her away, into the midst of the enemy ranks. Twilight felt her hooves contact smooth stone, and the ground shook moments later as the barrage of arcane energy hit its mark. She still couldn’t see.

Puppet, Sparkle planted the thought in her mind without words. Twilight didn’t need to see what Sparkle felt. She cast Equinox and swung it through the air gracelessly. It connected with what she assumed was her target, and she felt the blade eat its way through a foot of stone as it continued along its downward arc. She may have overshot things a little.

Missiles incoming. Puppet, truepony.

Her vision was starting to return to her. She broke eight blade motes from Equinox and sent them to intercept the incoming attack. Then, she broke away four more and sent them at a puppet as she sent the rest of Equinox at a truepony’s chest. Twilight didn’t cut into the pony—rather, her blade knocked him back like a club as she dismantled his defenses and put him out with her sleeping spell.

Eight blade-motes returned to her, having each deflected an incoming projectile. By now her vision was almost back, and the glowing purple orbs were practically distinct forms. Behind her, a unicorn puppet caught the other four motes on a moment-field. Twilight snapped them back onto her blade immediately.

Only seconds had passed since their initial barrage, but more and more of the enemies were beginning to take notice of her. They needed to keep moving.

This one.

Twilight sent every single piece of Equinox at a unicorn puppet over forty meters away. Certainly four pieces of the Element of Magic wielded by the Bearer of the Element of Magic might be something a puppet could deal with, but twenty-seven was beyond their capacity to handle in anything but large numbers. She had to squint to see through her impaired vision, but she watched with some satisfaction as the puppet was obliterated by her weapon.

Now here. This one and this one.

Sparkle teleported them so that they were behind the unicorn puppet as it dispersed. Twilight caught her blade just in time to jam it through a surprised puppet’s eye, then break it into motes and send them flying out around her. Three more puppets went down before she even started having to worry about defending herself.

As she picked a number of energy projectiles out of the air whilst simultaneously shearing a puppet in two, the absurdity of the situation occurred to her. They were trying to fight her with magic. The very idea was preposterous.

“Pride is good,” Sparkle said. “I’m being cautious, so pride has no ill effects.”

Twilight couldn’t agree more.

On Sparkle’s orders, she teleported fifty meters into the air and held herself aloft. She was facing downward, and was treated with a good view of Esteem’s reserve. They had suffered very little losses, but were still scrambling around, disorganized. Her ability to be in so many places at once was obviously not something they were prepared to deal with.

She charged each fragment of Equinox and sent them ripping through the air to a set of predetermined locations. Most of the puppets they were aimed at looked up in time. Some did not. Several tufts of black mist arose as the parts of Equinox buried themselves into the stone steps. Twilight prepared to detonate them, but stopped when she saw that she would likely kill several trueponies.

“Just that one.”

Twilight caused the single piece of Equinox to explode in a burst of incandescent violet, noting with satisfaction that only puppets were harmed in the blast. Then, just as the first spells thrown by the ponies on the ground began to reach her, Sparkle teleported them to the crater they had just created.

She hardened their skin so that it would deflect the falling rubble as Twilight pulled the fragment of Equinox out of the ground. Sparkle showed her where to aim, and she had driven the tiny point of light through another unicorn puppet before they realized where she was. Sparkle removed the traction from the ground in a seemingly random section of the battlefield as Twilight willed the next fragment to detonate. As she teleported away once more, she noticed the ponies sliding helplessly on the ground.

She came out of the teleport and retrieved the second mote of her blade. Once again she spent a very short amount of time dispatching the foes around her before detonating another piece of Equinox and leaving. This time she came out in the middle of the tractionless ground Sparkle had created moments ago.

“You think ahead,” she said with approval.

And she did. Twilight was violent, if meticulous. She skewered their enemies or broke apart their defenses before putting them to sleep. She was almost mechanical in her movements, the model of combat efficiency. She didn’t just defeat her enemies—she did so while using the least amount of time and energy possible. She was never in one place for more than a couple seconds, but she never failed to leave a few downed opponents in her wake.

Sparkle, though, was a mastermind. She made sure that their movements were entirely unpredictable—she’d set up a pattern just to change their movements and counter the enemies’ expectations. When a truepony started to command, or otherwise exude anything other than blind panic, they would appear moments later to put them down. Their appearances directed the flow of the enemy, herding trueponies away from the buried blade-motes.

Twilight didn’t even know that Sparkle was also tapping their harmonic connection. The fact was made known to her when, between blade-motes fifteen and sixteen, she was directed to teleport back to where Applejack and Pinkie were fighting. She emerged in the center of a conflict that was pure chaos, deflected half a dozen incoming magic missiles, executed two unicorn puppets, then wordlessly left.

The short disappearance cost her. When she returned to a space fifty meters above Esteem’s reserve, it certainly looked more organized, albeit diminished. To shake things up, Sparkle nullified gravity in one area as Twilight fell through the air. They also set another area on fire and detonated two more blade-motes before hitting the ground. She landed gracelessly, stayed to attract another wasteful volley of spells, then popped out of the air to resume collecting her weapon.

She amplified her voice again as she came out of a teleport and skidded to a halt next to puppet. Play his pride. Save intimidation tactics for the encounter itself. She began to call out to Esteem once more. “Where are you?!” The puppet fell into two pieces and dispersed. “Or has Rarity’s rejection broken your mind?”

Shield.

Twilight was not about to take any chances, so she made sure the bubble of energy that she wrapped herself in was the strongest she could muster. It paid off—moments later fourteen charged blade shards collided with her shield carrying enough power to make her take notice.

Sparkle teleported her away just moments before the shards exploded. Twilight found herself standing atop the stairs, right next to the palace doors and General Esteem himself.

Kill him.

She thrust her blade through the air at the general, but he simply crossed the distance between them and the smoking crater he had left in the space of a heartbeat. They each assembled their blades in full.

“General,” Esteem greeted her loudly from over thirty meters away.

“Master General,” Twilight corrected. “Titles are important.”

Esteem let out a snort of annoyance. “So you’ve come to kill me, have you?” He looked behind him at what had to be at least a hundred soldiers. “I seem to have brought an army with me.”

Twilight teleported directly into the center of the reserve, noting gleefully that Esteem seemed to have overlooked a crucial fact:

Not a single one of his remaining soldiers was a unicorn.

Every puppet dispersed as Twilight froze the water in their brains. Every pony fell to the ground as Sparkle put them to sleep. Of course Esteem wouldn’t bother protecting his own army.

“Nice bathrobe,” Twilight said casually to the only pony between her and the palace. She was fully aware that she had shown up in a suit made from the night sky, a cloak made of starlight, and a halo of pure energy. Intimidation. Pride. “Surrender, and you get a jail cell. Fight, and you die.”

Esteem barked out a humorless laugh. “I am the hoof of god. The will of Titan himself. I’ve seen you beg for your mother. Titan isn’t scared of you, and neither am I.”

“I’m only asking so that when I tell every other pony that I gave you the chance to surrender, I won’t be lying. I don’t want to be a liar.”

“Only a murderer, apparently.”

Twilight gave a very slight nod. “I don’t want to be that either, but necessity dictates. I figured if I offered now, you’d refuse. But if I offered when I had you pinned to wall, you’d say yes. You’re too sick and dangerous to put in a jail cell. I’m too good to tell lies. This was the natural solution.”

“Well then, Master General Sparkle, I suppose this can only end one way, can’t it?”

“It would seem so, General Esteem.”

“I have been looking forward to this,” he replied with a smile as he spread his hooves and rolled his shoulders.

“You have a plan, right?” Rapidly jumping around and causing chaos amongst a group of vastly inferior enemies was one thing; fighting the most skilled bladecaster in the world was another. Twilight had absolutely no idea how to use her weapon in close quarters, and physically she left a lot to be desired.

His advantage, Sparkle shot back in pure thought form. Experience. Our advantages: Power. Mobility.

Esteem crossed the distance between them in a tenth of a second and smoothly moved to slice her in half. Twilight barely managed to teleport away in time.

Scratch mobility.

As she came out of her teleport Esteem threw his blade at her in fragments, and she was forced to deflect them with her own weapon. Then he pushed his way through the air between them and reassembled his weapon. Twilight didn’t wait for him to swing, blinking away as soon as he got close.

Be a thug.

She tore a block of stone the size of several ponies from the nearby palace and another from the ground in front of her. Then she tossed the two massive projectiles at him, annoyed that she had to resort to such simple magic.

Esteem shot shards of his blade into both of the converging blocks and caused them to explode, sending fragments of stone everywhere. He began to run toward her despite the tons of stone still sailing his way.

Twilight was quick to remove the traction from the ground beneath him, but Esteem jumped into the air just in time to avoid falling. He planted two hooves on a piece of stone as it turned beneath him in the air, then sprang forward with the grace of a pegasus. The tiny bits of flying rubble bounced harmlessly off his skin as he spun once before landing with all four hooves on the ground.

He’s good. Twilight wasn’t sure where the thought originated. With another motion spell, Esteem crossed the distance between them and tried to kill her.

His experience was paying off. Esteem no doubt knew every way in which she could attack him: he had been doing this for awhile, after all. She wasn’t going to get to him using conventional means.

Twilight teleported up to the palace’s entrance, waiting for Sparkle to inform her of Esteem’s next incoming attack. She didn’t: Esteem remained where they had been moments before.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” he called out. “A real unicorn duel? All our power to destroy, and yet we are both still so fragile. Two exquisite glass figurines at the center of a maelstrom.”

Keep talking. I’ll come up with a plan.

“More like painting over a masterpiece instead of creating your own. This is a terrible way to use magic.”

“I disagree. Perhaps you do not see the beauty in it because you are so inept.”

Intimidation. Pride.

“Nihilus made the same mistake,” Twilight called out to him.

Esteem scoffed. “Nihilus was an idiot.”

“She was,” Twilight agreed. “She had the mind of a child and the power of a demi-god. You think that all the spells you got from your book are the pinnacle of magical warfare? So did Nihilus. While she spent all her time memorizing formulae, I was improving them. Over a thousand years have passed since Astor Coruscare wrote the book on killing with magic. A thousand years of magical development that I can apply to her spells.”

“And yet you throw rocks at me and swing your blade around like a bat.”

More time.

“Do you know what I asked Rarity before I came here?”

Esteem’s expression darkened. “Do tell.”

“I asked her if she had anything to say to you before you died. She didn’t. She could have talked me out of coming here, you know. I was giving her the chance to. Instead she gave me advice. Even she wants you to die.”

The muscles in Esteem’s neck tensed. “What was her advice?”

“Not to go blade-to-blade with you.”

“Good advice,” he drawled. “Anything else?”

Stay safe, Twilight thought.

That was when Esteem smiled. Twilight found it odd that he should be smiling—she had gotten him angry just a moment ago. Stay safe, her mother’s voice echoed Rarity’s words inside her head. No, Esteem should definitely not be smiling. She heard a soft pitter-patter and looked down to see her blood pooling on the stone ground below her. Stay safe, her father had said.

That was when Titan pulled his blade out of her midsection.

This isn’t right, Twilight thought before collapsing to the ground. Titan could easily have killed her instantly if he had stabbed her. Why leave her to bleed out on the ground? How come she didn’t feel any pain? And why didn’t her other mind detect Titan coming with magic?

“I tried,” Sparkle said faintly before fading back into the whole.

Then there was pain. Yes, there was most definitely pain. She had been stabbed straight through, from her back to her belly. That would explain all the blood. Twilight had once read about exactly how much blood she had in her body. Now, she couldn’t remember the figure.

A gleaming metal point dragged its way over the stones and through the expanding pool of vital fluid. “Did you think,” Esteem said quietly, “that this was a storybook?” He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “That you, the champion of good, would show up here and do battle with I, the champion of evil, and defeat me in single combat, winning the day for ponykind? You think I won’t cheat just because I’m winning?”

Twilight was beginning to feel incredibly cold, and her legs were starting to shake. Esteem continued. “Do you think that this is the way of the world? Allow me to teach you just how dark this world really is.”

She felt another sharp pain in her chest, and weakly tried to double over as Esteem’s blade shard hooked itself on her insides. She felt a tug, and was dragged through a pool of her own blood and into the Canterlot palace. She cried gritted her teeth. This had been a possibility. This outcome was acceptable, if not preferred.

As she slid on her punctured back across the floor, Esteem continued to speak. “Painful, isn’t it? This particular form of execution was taught to me by a griffin.” He deposited her after a short distance, right at the beginning of the palace’s massive atrium. Twilight could tell where she was by the pillars she could barely see.

She had a plan B. She had prepared for the contingency of her own death. She just had to accept that this was happening and make peace with it. All that was left now was to not go out the way she had last time. Nopony was coming to save her. Nopony could.

The blade twisted inside her, and Twilight felt something snap. “I don’t think you have much time left, Master General Sparkle,” Esteem said softly. “So I will be brief. Everything that you intended to accomplish will not come to pass. Everything you have accomplished thus far will be undone. You will die, and Rarity will despair.”

Twilight felt like she should say something. But what could she say? Nothing to give away her plans, certainly. A taunt? Esteem seemed resilient to those. Something for herself, then. Something that meant a lot to her.

She felt something cold and flat pushing on her face, and was forced to look up into Esteem’s eyes as he leaned over her. “You will forever be known as the pony who failed her kind. That is your legacy. And when you die, I am going to strip the flesh from your face and eat it.”

She didn’t pay much attention to his words. Friendship, she had decided. She would die with her friends on her mind, knowing that her sacrifice had bought ponykind a chance. Twilight opened her mouth to speak, and discovered that it had been filled with blood. Oh well. She closed her eyes.

One way or another, it would all be over soon.

-

Need to contact me for any reason? AestheticBrony@gmail.com

Chapter Sixteen, God, will be linked Wednesday, February 15th.

God

God

-

All of them stopped immediately. Twilight Sparkle was dying.

Fluttershy and Applejack exchanged looks of equal horror. Pinkie Pie’s mane deflated. Rainbow Dash, who had been speaking with Spitfire, stopped mid-sentence and headed straight for the ground. Rarity’s blade disassembled momentarily.

The fighting was going well. Twilight’s strategy had worked out. The loyalists were going to win, with or without the five. They could afford to leave now that their side had the major edge. They made this justification long after abandoning the battlefield to make for the palace.

They forgave Dash for not being as fast as she usually was. At least, four of them did. Her wings were torn and missing feathers in places. Still, Dash laboured through air, ignoring the pain and managing to outrun them by a fair margin.

Applejack barrelled along the ground at an alarming rate, climbing the stairs two at a time. It had taken her a while to accelerate, but she wasn’t about to slow down now that she had reached her top speed.

Pinkie Pie’s hooves barely touched the ground. She kept pace with even Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy followed her.

Rarity was last, but was still running faster than she ever had in her life. Than she ever had running for her life.

All the while, their connection told them that Twilight didn’t want them to come for her. That it was too dangerous. That she could not be saved, but that this was not the end. That ponykind needed them more than she did.

And they stopped with growing disbelief just as the steps leading up to palace began to level out. They looked at each other, with faces full of child-like incomprehension, and the sudden knowledge that they were not going to save Twilight Sparkle.

They already had.

Twilight shuddered, tasting her own blood, as Esteem walked away from her. She spat it out, then coughed as she struggled to draw breath into her broken lungs. Words. She needed to form words. She managed a hacking sound as more of her vital fluid poured out of her mouth.

Applejack.

“What was that?” Esteem asked bemusedly. Titan’s avatar quietly observed.

Twilight spat out another mouthful of blood, then said in a voice that was quite clear, “Theory proven.”

Applejack.

She flopped onto her belly, gritting her teeth from the pain, then struggled onto all four hooves, rising out of the pool of her own blood. The point-shard of Esteem’s blade clattered to the floor beneath her. He really should have kept a hold on it.

She kicked the shard with a foreleg and it made a trail of blood across the floor, then came to rest at the general’s feet. He looked down at it in disbelief as she stood up straight.

“You’ll be needing that,” she told him as the last of the pain from her wounds faded. She reached out with her mind and told the sky-fabric that composed her suit and cloak to mend.

She took in the palace atrium. Massive pillars ran along either wall, reaching up to a ceiling that was several stories high. Standing in ranks along one side of the room were puppets. Along the other side were ponies. In front of her, Esteem looked speechless, and Titan, standing next to him, looked bored.

“More puppets?” she asked the baffled unicorn. He didn’t answer her.

Titan did. “My son requested a last line of defense. His fear is unfounded and shameful.”

Intimidation. Pride. “Shameful, yes.”

“You have eaten my daughter,” he stated emotionlessly.

Twilight had done no such thing. The Elements of Harmony were full of surprises. The Element of Magic in particular had some interesting bonds connecting it to the others.

She had not fully understood them, and she hadn’t had the time to look into them. All she had had was a theory. Dying while her five friends rushed to her aid had opened the Elements to her just as becoming Twilight Sparkle had, and her theory was proven correct. It seemed that the trick to discovering the secrets of the Elements was not study, but friendship.

Equinox snapped into shape behind her as she regarded her opponents. She never did get to use any of those war spells.

Intimidation. Pride. “All of you,” she said, “at once.”

Esteem was the first to answer her. He sped through the air between them in the space of a heartbeat and took a swing at her with his blade. Twilight was practically useless when it came to blade-to-blade combat. Rarity was not.

She tapped Rarity and met the general’s blade in midair with her own, and his weapon squealed and shook under Equinox’s full magical might. The cumulative knowledge of years spent training under Esteem and over a month under Luna filled her mind, and she met his look of disbelief with a smile. Then she struck him in the chest with a hoof and sent him sliding across the floor. He slowed to a halt eight meters away.

Pegasus magic. Earthpony magic. Unicorn magic. The knowledge to wield all three. Was this what it felt like to be a god?

“Abomination,” Titan said levelly as he cast his blade. “Destroy her.”

To their credit, they tried.

Once again, Twilight split her mind into parts and delegated. She would need all of her concentration to manage her new arsenal.

Their advantages: numbers.

Titan got to her first, and their blades met in the air between them. His wavered under the raw power she was able to channel into hers.

Our advantages: Unicorn power.

Titan swung a foreleg at her, and her own leg intercepted his punch in midair. She gritted her teeth and slowly pushed his trembling limb back. She wanted him to know that he had nothing, next to her.

Mastery of pegasus martial arts.

She reached out with her other hoof and twisted Titan’s foreleg between her limbs until she heard it snap. The elder god was thrown off balance, and Twilight spun into the air and kicked him with both her hind legs. He stumbled back as their blades parted.

Whatever it is Pinkie Pie does.

Titan’s horn flashed before he caught his footing, and a spear of glossy black darkness sailed through the air towards her. Twilight batted it out of the air with Equinox, then ran at him swinging. Titan blocked three of her strokes and two of her punches before she spun around once more and kicked him with her hind legs. It was almost trivial.

Unnatural Strength.

She imbued the kick with Applejack's magic, and Titan did not simply stumble backwards. He was thrown through the air and collided with one of the atrium's pillars with a sickening crunch.

“What are you waiting for?!” Esteem shouted. “Kill her!”

Instant translocation, as always.

Twilight was behind the general in a flash, and he spun to meet her. Rarity had said that he was worth two of her at her best. Twilight split Equinox into two equal parts. Then, she attacked. This time the general had no cheats. This time he had no advantages.

Skill with blade.

Esteem's eyes widened in shock as Twilight attacked him with competence. They exchanged blows with unnatural speed for several seconds before the enemies in the room began to converge on her. Despite her two minds wielding two weapons each roughly equivalent in power to his, Twilight didn't break his guard. She would have to use her other faculties as well.

Near invincibility.

She created an explosion of force in the air between them just as the first soldiers reached them. She could have layered the spell atop itself, causing two waves to hit her enemies at almost the exact same time. It would have destroyed their internals and killed them, but there were trueponies in the room. Twilight was not willing to kill them, especially when she was in no danger. She would have to deliberately weaken her spells.

Esteem threw up a half-formed shield as the blast went off, and was once again sent sliding across the floor. Twilight did not shield at all, and was thrown up into the air and back. She landed against a pillar on all four hooves, then bent gravity. The world turned onto its side as she ran down the column to engage her enemies.

Pegasus agility.

She hit the ground and cleaved a puppet in two while simultaneously bashing a skull in with a foreleg. Then she teleported herself halfway across the room to face Titan once again. He had recovered from her previous assault.

One of her blades met Singularity, and the other went for his face. He ducked under it and she rammed a leg into his head with the strength of an earthpony. Titan snapped upward from the force of the blow, his forelegs leaving the ground.

Twilight teleported behind him and sliced his hind legs off at the hoof, then kicked him in the rump. He wheeled forward and his back struck the ground, then slid along the floor. She sprang over three meters into the air, then landed over the king as he came to a halt.

She drove both of her blades downward, and Titan managed to hold them on a point of dazzling white light for almost a whole second before they went through his eyes.

Was this what the gods felt like? Was this the kind of power that they walked around with every day since the moment they were born? Twilight wondered these things as she turned on the puppets and ponies around her.

She could not die. There was not a mortal pony alive who could stand against her—Esteem was laughably weak in comparison now. It wouldn't matter how many armies they set against her—she could kill forever, with power like this.

It disgusted her. Nopony should ever be able to simply take and destroy as they pleased. Not Titan, not Esteem, not her.

She moved through Esteem's fodder, and it felt like she was pushing her way through a crowd. Their magical shields broke like wet paper. Their bodies snapped like twigs.

It wasn't long before the trueponies broke form and ran for their lives. She hadn't killed any of them—though there were injuries aplenty amongst their numbers. They ran from her, and for good reason. They couldn't possibly hope to harm her. She was a god.

Titan appeared for a second time after they had left.

“I finally get it,” Twilight said to him as she backhoofed half a puppet's face away.

“Oh?” His face was still an expressionless mask.

“Why none of you have taken any direct action.” Her blades batted some unicorn offenses away and returned fire, slaying her assailants. “Why all you've done is sit in your forest and observe. What could possibly stand in the way of power like this? There's no contest here.”

She teleported across the room and went to work on another group of puppets. “This would just be a chore to you. So you manipulate and scheme because it's the only test of skill left. No wonder Celestia is the way she is. All you can hope to achieve is power over us, because you can destroy anything you want with the wave of a hoof.”

A unicorn puppet sent a magic missile at her from across the room, and Twilight lifted a hoof without taking her eyes off of the king. The red projectile was thrown back along its trajectory by her wave of kinetic energy. The puppet erected a barrier in time, but it didn't matter—the construct was forced into one of the pillars regardless.

Titan answered her by tilting his head slightly. “I could ask you what it is like to be mortal. To be at the mercy of our game. To know without a doubt that you will die before you are ever old enough to attain true understanding. But I do not care.”

Intimidation. Pride.

Twilight tore an entire pillar from the wall with magic, then broke it in two. “Esteem!” she shouted, letting her voice carry through the palace. “Where have you run to now? Nothing can save you from me, Esteem!”

She brought the two massive hunks of stone down on the king with enough force to level a building. He shielded as the ground around him was obliterated.

“Not ponies!”

The ground shook as she beat her pillars against the king once again. With a tremendous crack, they shattered into useless rubble that cascaded to the floor around the unharmed king. Twilight threw her blade at the alicorn.

“Not puppets!”

Titan split Singularity into twenty-six parts and sent them to intercept Equinox. While they were in the air, Twilight teleported both herself and her blademotes behind the king.

“Not gods!”

As Singularity met only empty air, Twilight sheared off Titan's head with a scissor-like motion, destroying the king’s puppet. A quick check showed her that no more enemies remained, so she began sweeping the palace with her magical senses. Esteem would not escape her.

She found him on the third floor, heading for the tower in which Celestia had once slept. With a thought, Twilight appeared in front of him. He stopped dead, his hooves skidding to a halt on the stone floors.

“I see,” he said simply, raising his blade.

Twilight's voice trembled as she spoke. “The dragon.”

“The dragon?”

She took a step towards him, and his eyes shifted to the side. “There was a baby dragon.”

His eyes grew cold, “Indeed,” he said.

“You said you wouldn't hurt him.”

“I said no such thing.”

“It was implied!” she cried desperately. “Nihilus left you with a dragon. What did you do with him?”

“Do you intend to kill me, miss Sparkle?”

Twilight knew that her friends were on the way. She could feel them. They had won the battle and were about to move into phase three of the plan.

Amongst them there was no consensus as to whether Esteem should live or die. But all of them agreed on one thing—Twilight should not have to kill him.

Twilight disagreed. If Esteem had to die, then she would be the one to do it. She would not have others kill her enemies for her. She was not Celestia.

“Yes,” she said quietly. She didn't want to be a liar.

Twilight's heart fell as Esteem's smile widened. “In that case,” he said, grinning. “Dragon meat—”

He never got to finish his sentence. With an incoherent scream, Twilight leveled the entire corridor, and most of the one beneath them. Esteem shielded most of the explosion, but fell through to the first floor.

He landed in a crumpled heap. Twilight landed next to him in a feat of pegasine agility. She looked at his battered form, and her legs trembled.

Do it fast.

“This is personal,” she said, tears running down her face. “I am not following orders.”

She passed Equinox through his neck, not to kill him, but to destroy the hold he had on his body. Then she picked him up like he was a rag-doll and smashed him into the wall. With a sharp, resounding crack, she snapped off his horn and discarded it.

“I know how I will die,” Esteem said weakly, lifting his chin.

Twilight sobbed. “Everything you hoped to accomplish will not come to pass. Everything you have accomplished thus far will be undone.”

She grabbed the rubble around her and crushed it into dust. Her friends were practically screaming at her through their link. She ignored them as she drew from the dust a specific ratio of minerals and then heated them to molten temperatures.

“You will die, and Rarity will not despair.”

Esteem opened his mouth to speak, and Twilight clamped it shut with a thought, noting that she forced him to bite off some of his tongue as she did so. Her orb of superheated glass drifted up over his body as it cooled and took the shape of a sliver.

Esteem watched it, and his breath quickened. It was a very, very large sliver.

“You will forever be remembered as the pony who betrayed his kind. And when you die, I will make sure that you are remembered as having been hideous.”

As the sliver finally stopped over his eye, Esteem broke and looked away, jamming his lids closed.

Twilight pried them open and forced him to look ahead. Then she wordlessly pushed her sliver through his eye and let his corpse sag to the floor.

When they reached her, she was standing alone, surrounded by fourteen shards of platinum-iridium that were scattered amongst a pile of ashes.

They called her name, and surrounded her, asking if she was alright. Twilight was covered in her own blood and dust from the walls she had destroyed, but was otherwise fine. Of course she was fine. She could use their earthpony magic now.

She slowly cast a spell to clean herself off and straighten her cloak of starlight, feeling strangely numb.

“Spike is dead,” she said, her voice devoid of any trace of emotion. “Esteem ate him.”

Her friends stopped talking immediately. Fluttershy looked down, and a tear silently fell to moisten the ashes below her. Applejack's mouth twisted in rage, and Rainbow Dash yelled as she kicked one of the shards on the ground out into the night. Pinkie Pie looked like she didn't know how to react. Rarity started wiping her eyes with her hood.

“If any of you have any objections to my actions.” Her voice came out raw and unsteady. “We will discuss them when I take off this uniform. Until then, I hope we're all still in this together.” She looked to each of them.

They all nodded. Rainbow Dash was first, Fluttershy was last.

“Good. It's time for phase three. Empyrean is in Celestia's court. He should be easy. Let's hope Luna is in position.”

They didn't say anything on the way to the court. Twilight led the way, and the others followed her wordlessly through the opulent palace. She had to check her pace several times so as to let the others keep up.

When they did reach the tall double-doors leading to The Court of the Sun, Twilight threw them open without preamble. She was done with theatrics.

Celestia's court ran with the same design principle as the rest of the palace, meaning it was enormous. The walls were more glass than stone, so as to maximize the amount of sunlight that spilled into chamber. A thick red carpet ran through the center of the chamber to a massive cushion. There, Empyrean sat.

The prince swallowed as they entered, beads of sweat running off his brow. “If you hurt me,” he said, his voice shaking, “Titan will kill you.”

Twilight strode calmly to the center of the room. “Do you remember the night you were born, Empyrean? The power that Nihilus gave you? I'm here to take it back.”

“No!” he shrieked. “He won't want me anymore! Please!”

“Titan is going to die tonight, Empyrean. Nothing you can do will change that.”

“I'll fight you,” he said, raising his chin. “I'll kill you all!”

“I didn't want to have to do this,” Twilight said softly as her friends fanned out behind her.

Empyrean's eyes glowed, and the temperature in the room rose drastically. “You're all just ponies!” he cried, standing. “I am a god!”

His horn flashed, and a beam of liquid yellow flames shot through the air towards Twilight and her friends. Twilight could sense that it had within it enough power to destroy not only them, but everything behind them for almost a kilometer. The carpet was reduced to ash beneath it as it closed the distance between them.

Twilight opened her eyes as the beam reached her and caught it on Equinox. Using the magic of the Elements was a strange sensation, unlike any other form of magic she had experienced. Five other ponies channeled their will into hers, and together they gave her access to a well of immeasurable power. It wasn't power she could bend or control—it had its own purpose. Right now it was protecting them.

That changed when Twilight threw her blade forward and a massive, incandescent rainbow shot forth to consume the prince's fire. In less than a second it reached Empyrean.

The solar flames gave way to the prismatic beam, and the prince screamed with all the power and desperation of a dying star.

Luna found Celestia at the center of their old courtyard.

“Celestia!” She landed next to her sister, and for the first time saw what had became of her.

“Catastrophe, Celestia, what have they done to you?”

When Celestia saw her, her eyes widened with fear. “Titan just left,” she said. “Terra is here. You need to run, Luna.”

Luna's eyes hardened as she regarded her sister's broken form. “Not this time.” She levitated Celestia into her forelegs as she took flight. “Not without you.”

Celestia hung limply, her face obviously strained with pain. “It's good to see you, Luna. Is—”

“Twilight Sparkle is alive. Titan flies to his death.” As she swooped down over the Everfree, she gave her sister a wink.

That was when Terra struck. Her blows had become no weaker since Canterlot, and Luna found herself in locked in her mother's grasp as Celestia went spinning from her forelegs and into the forest below. Hopefully Twilight's timing was as impeccable as she said it would be.

Terra grinned as she carried Luna through the air and back to the broken-down palace, where she pushed her through a stone wall and into the floor. Her mother pinned her to the ground, gave one of her beautiful smiles, then beat Luna's head into the stones beneath her. The stones beneath her were pulverized into dust, and her vision turned black momentarily.

“Over a month,” she said in her magnificent voice. “It took you over a month to come to her rescue! Do you have any idea how little entertainment I get from your sister? She doesn't play any of the games I like.”

Luna narrowed her eyes and spat blood at her mother. Luna knew exactly what games she was referring to. Terra had been the one to teach her to make war—and her lessons had been harsh.

With a powerful motion, Luna swung back up onto her hooves. She cast Nadir and lunged at her mother. It was a futile gesture—Terra was much, much stronger than her, and probably more skilled as well. She was beaten to the ground again by a ripple of telekinesis before she had even spread her wings.

“I didn't want her,” Terra hissed. “You were the one who betrayed me. You're the one I owe. Tell me, do you want to marry your new brother?”

Luna looked up at her mother, defiant. “Never.”

Terra gave another one of her gorgeous smiles. “Then I suppose I'll get to have my way with you after all, won't I? I have so many little activities planned. Try not to break too soon.”

Luna struggled to her hooves. If she couldn't hurt her mother physically, she would have to try it psychologically. “What did he do to thee, Terra?”

Terra's expression darkened immediately. “I told you, Luna,” she spat. A chunk of stone as big as she was tore itself from the wall beside them, and Luna braced herself for the impact. The stone shattered over her body, and the force of the impact depressed her into the floor. “Never. Ask. Us. Questions.”

Her earthpony magic came more slowly this time, and Luna lay immobile for a long while before her mother. When she finally gathered enough strength to lift her head, dust sifted off of it in waves. When she spoke, her voice sounded strained.

“Thou.” She breathed in a mouthful of dust, and spent some time coughing it up. “Thou art a monster. A terrible monster. What could Titan have possibly done—”

Terra crossed the short distance between them and Luna tasted blood as her mother brought a hoof across her face. Still, she continued. Pain was not much of a hindrance to one of Terra's daughters.

“Not one thing,” she said weakly. “Instead it was centuries of being his wife, wasn't it?”

Terra laughed. “You know so little,” she said in a voice that was almost a whisper. “I am what he needs me to be, and so I survive. Anypony can become what they need to be given enough time.”

Luna turned away from her insane mother. “And you need to like torturing your daughters?”

Terra leaned down and nuzzled Luna on the neck. “No,” she said. “I don't.”

Luna jerked her head away. “Spare me the suffering,” she said forcefully. “Help me in my fight against Titan. Thou didst go against him before.”

“And I lost,” Terra said darkly. “Thanks to the daughters we gave the world. Celestia has been singing the same song for the past month. I'm going to have to decline.”

Luna turned her head to look through the gaping hole in the stone wall that marked their point of entry. Outside, the sky was beginning to lighten.

There were six hours left before dawn.

“I was not asking thee to spare me,” she muttered. Terra cocked her head. “I was giving thee a chance to spare thineself. Goodbye, mother.”

The power came to her wrapped with a thought that was not her own, much like a ribbon tied around a parcel.

She had been dying. Dying in the dirt, surrounded by the uncaring trees of the Everfree Forest. The fall had broken everything that there was left to break. She hoped that Luna didn't feel guilty for having dropped her. Terra was to blame.

It wasn't fair. Celestia had always known that she would die—it was essentially the first rule of being immortal. In the grand unraveling of time, anything could come to pass. If time was infinite, anything would come to pass, including any number of possible deaths. If time wasn't infinite—well then the end of time would surely kill her.

But this was not the way she had imagined it. Her fight with Titan was much closer to what she would have liked—going out in a blaze of glory against a superior foe even as she engineered that foe's defeat. Instead she was bleeding out in the dirt. Not like a god; like a pony.

Twilight was alive, so Titan could still lose. She was surprised to realize that knowing she wasn't needed brought comfort to her. Hopefully Twilight would forgive her, after she was gone. The fact that the mare had gone through the Sliver of Darkness because of her was not lost on Celestia. And there were still plenty of other reasons Twilight had to hate her. Celestia wondered just how many of them she had found.

That was when the power had come upon her. It was like being submerged in a vat of pure sunlight. Involuntarily, Celestia's broken body buckled and shook in the dirt. Suddenly she realized why Luna had winked. Clever girl. She was back in the immortal game.

Twilight's voice sounded in her mind, perfectly clear. “Princess Celestia.”

Those two words were enough to tell Celestia what she dreaded. Or perhaps it was just the lack of one word—“dear.” She doubled over again and heard a series of snaps as her bones began to reshape themselves.

“I have retaken Canterlot and slain the traitor, General Esteem.”

The sentence was fit to burst with new information. Twilight retook Canterlot—not by herself, obviously, which meant that Masterstroke had gone forward with the rebellion as planned. Esteem had become Titan's general, which meant that he was indeed the traitor—likely even the unicorn who had broken Titan's bonds.

And Twilight had killed him.

Her back split open, and newborn wings of blood and sinew tore their way out of her form. Blood ran down her forehead in rivulets as an alabaster horn pushed its way through her skull. If there was pain, Celestia didn't feel it. She was busy drowning in her power.

Twilight had killed Esteem, Rarity's biological father. What had she made her student into?

She was getting larger, she had been from the start. Her mane was growing back in, and the injuries of over a month were healing in seconds. Celestia felt herself grinning wildly as feathers blossomed over her newborn wings. Had she always been this strong? A month of being mundane certainly put things into perspective.

“You are to kill Queen Terra so that the war ends today.”

Kill Terra. The order—for that was most definitely what it was—confirmed her fears about Twilight. I killed Rarity's father. You're going to kill your mother. Celestia would carry it out. She felt like stretching her new muscles anyway.

Ends today. The wording was not lost on the Princess. She found Twilight's suggestion agreeable, and told the sun to take the position of high noon.

“Master General Twilight Sparkle.”

The fact that Twilight most likely despised her was almost enough to dampen Celestia's mood. Almost.

She threw herself into the air, spinning as she felt wind through her feathers for the first time in over a month. She tapped into her unicorn power, and was almost overwhelmed by the flood of energy that offered itself to her will. Another beat of her wings sent her downward, and she smashed through the roof of the palace like it was made of fog.

She had no royal regalia, so she had to improvise. She summoned a massive white earthpony warplate to encase her body. A small thought, and upon her brow burned a crown of liquid flames. She drew Zenith, then leveled it at her mother, who had been staring at her in disbelief from twenty meters away. Celestia spoke with the unsuppressed voice of a god, and it resonated throughout the entire palace.

“Centuries of boiling water for tea when I knew that I could boil the seas. Of lifting quills when I could lift mountains. Of breaking wax seals when I could break anything I please. My power is too much for this world. But it isn't too much for you, is it, Terra? Now I get to find out what I'm really capable of. No lives to save, no plans to make, nothing to hold me back. I am divinity unleashed.”

Terra took a step back, away from the beaten form of Luna. Her mouth hung open in amazement. “C-C-Celestia,” she said dumbly.

Celestia smiled wickedly. “Call me Sunshine.”

Twilight stared impassively at Empyrean, who was now a mundane pony. He was perfectly fine, though from what she could gather stripping away his power had been somewhat painful. She would have rather it not be, of course—Empyrean was just a victim of his upbringing. He had never been a real enemy, like Titan or Terra.

“H-he's-” Fluttershy sounded appalled. “He's just a colt. A child.”

The Court of the Sun was a bit more magnificent now that it was daylight out. A dull light, weakened by the looming storm cloud, dappled in through semi-transparent windows that stretched up to the ceiling. Everything else was made of marble. It would be picturesque, were it not for the ashes scattered about the room from when Empyrean burnt away the carpet.

Empyrean was crying. “Look what you did to me!” His head was buried in his forelegs, and he was facing away from them. “I'm nothing now!”

Twilight ignored him. “It had to happen, Fluttershy. Not only to give Celestia the strength to kill Terra, but to get Titan to come here.”

Fluttershy flew to the former prince's side. “But what will happen to him?”

Twilight had no idea. “Celestia will see to it that he gets a new home. He'll be safe.”

Titan was hopefully on his way—just as Twilight had planned. Empyrean was stronger than Terra, so sending Terra to defeat the force that had defeated his son would be a senseless act. He would be throwing his wife away. Twilight knew that Titan was a sensible pony. He would be on his way.

“There, there.” Fluttershy was trying unsuccessfully to calm the wailing prince. “You don't have to do what your father tells you to anymore.”

Empyrean sniveled. “Y-y-you mean I won’t have to raise the sun?”

Fluttershy flashed him a reassuring smile. “Not at all. You can do the things a pony your age is supposed to do, like play.”

He wiped his nose. “And Esteem won’t yell at me?”

“No. Esteem won’t yell at you.”

“What about my f-father?”

“He won’t either. Celestia is going to take care of you from now on.”

“You can’t kill him,” Empyrean said glumly. “He’s invincible.”

Fluttershy frowned, then opened her mouth to speak again. Before she could, Twilight interrupted her.

“He’s here,” she said quietly. She could feel him approaching even without her magical senses. “He’s here!” she shouted to her friends. “Spread out, now! Fluttershy get over here. Empyrean, run!”

The prince didn’t listen, and Twilight cursed inwardly as Fluttershy flapped her way over to where they stood and took her place behind Twilight. It was time to kill the King of the World.

Titan’s arrival seemed to break the sky. There was a thunderous crack, and the ground shook beneath them. Outside, the massive storm cloud that her pegasi had summoned over the keep was blown back by an equally massive, expanding white ring. Twilight felt the elder god descending upon them. It was like being in a collapsing mine—thousands of tons of stone bearing down on her to plunge her into airless darkness. Her only instincts were screaming at her to run. She heard her friends shifting uncomfortably, and knew that they felt it too.

Blanket mind magic. Fear and hopelessness. The fact that he could both conceive of and cast such as spell was as terrifying as the spell itself. Shouldn’t her magical armor be preventing it from effecting them?

Titan knew exactly where they were, as Twilight suspected. The white ring that had torn through the storm cloud had seemed to be centered directly above them. Seconds after they heard the explosion, Titan broke through the ceiling.

He hit the ground with the force of a meteor, and above him the roof split and caved. Shattered stone rained down around them, but strangely none struck the king himself, although he manipulated none with telekinesis. Twilight was glad for the enchantments that they all had on their armor. She reached out and shielded Empyrean to protect him from the blast.

In the center of the room, Titan was perfectly still, though his oppressive mind magic still had a hold on them all. When he rose, the motions were flawlessly mechanical, like an automaton winding down. He folded his wings behind his back and then looked at Twilight.

Instantly the fear inside of her doubled. It was almost animalistic in the way it screamed at her over her greater senses. She wanted to turn and run, flee from this terrifying immortal predator. She was an insect that he wanted to crush. She needed to hide under a rock.

No wonder Titan considered ponykind to be semi-intelligent animals next to alicorns; his presence alone could reduce them to such. Twilight began to craft a spell in her mind that she hoped would counteract his crippling mind magic. That was when Titan spoke.

“No.”

If his presence was fear, his voice was insanity. He hadn’t spoken the word very loudly, and yet it felt as though she were running her face against a concrete wall. She had to fight the urge to cover her ears.

What was more, her spellcrafting just... stopped. One moment she was working the magic with her mind, and the next she held onto nothing. He had taken it from her, and his horn hadn’t even glowed. No wonder he had been able to sneak up on her and stab her earlier without her knowing. Apparently for a three thousand year old alicorn, the rules just didn’t apply.

“Father!” Empyrean cried.

Titan turned and regarded his son for a moment, and his mouth became a thin line, trembling with rage. “Pathetic,” he said simply.

Then, with a violent twist and a loud snap, he broke Empyrean’s neck with his magic. His son’s lifeless form slumped to the floor. Beside her, Twilight heard Fluttershy try to stifle a whimper. Titan spoke again, and around her, Twilight’s friends cringed.

“I have had enough.”

A wave of force travelled outward from the king and struck Twilight and her friends head on. It didn’t let up, and they were thrown against the back wall as the ashes and rubble were pushed away as well. The windows shattered, and their shards of glass fell out into the warm summer afternoon air.

The force persisted, dwarfing gravity itself. From her perspective, Twilight looked up at King Titan.

He could probably have killed them then and there—they weren’t nearly coherent enough to use the Elements, not after the effects of his voice and his presence. And there was no way that with the kind of power he had he wouldn’t be able to. Instead he spoke as they lay pinned to the wall.

“I have had enough of this rebellion. Enough of your attempts to outplay me at the immortal game. Enough of ponykind denying its place in the natural order.” His voice sounded harsh. “My leniency is at an end.”

Twilight needed to break his spells, but trying to use her magic was like trying to hold water in her hooves. It shied away from her as she told it to take shape in her mind. How was he doing it?

“Do you think that it is right,” he spat, “to oppose me? Do you think that I am wrong to ensure ponykind follows the natural order? Do you think that these matters are yours to decide? As though you could possibly see this world in a way that I do not? As though it would matter.”

The force acting on her body increased, and Twilight began to feel an echo of the same pain that Titan had forced upon her before. There was no way she could focus enough to cast, even without the way he was making her magic reject her. She looked up at the king from under the crushing weight of his spells.

Cracks ran along the stone floor beneath him as his rage came to a boil. “I. Am. Titan!” He said the words in a voice that was like thunder. “Master of all that is and shall be. You cannot rightly oppose me because I define morality itself. By my very nature I am right. By my very nature I cannot err.”

Twilight was not going to let her friends die as insects being tortured under a microscope. She would not let everything have been for nothing. Desperately, her mind ran through her list of options.

She split her mind and piled all of the pain, fear, and oppression onto her second consciousness with a hastened “Sorry.” Then, she focused on her magic. She had to free her friends.

Again, it drifted from her grasp like smoke. Frustrated, Twilight piled more and more emotions onto her other mind, until she felt herself drifting through the cold, liquid-like state of pure logic.

This time she was able to grasp a tiny bit of magic. She thrust it into Titan’s spells like a tiny sliver, slowly using her superior concentration to add more and more power. As she worked, she felt the pain in her second mind ease up, and found herself able to hold more and more magic. She was succeeding.

When she had undone the spells that Titan had on herself, she set both of her minds to crafting the magic she would need to set her friends free as well. Titan carried on.

“To set yourselves against me is to say that you are capable of hindering me in any way. You are not. There is nothing you can do that I cannot undo. I could stand in this room and do nothing as you die of old age.”

Twilight’s first spell unbound every one of her friends from Titan’s spells and shielded them from his crushing forces. Before they could fall away from the wall, her second spell teleported every one of them and herself to stand in front of him.

Titan had only a moment to look somewhat surprised before Twilight breathed venomously, “Get him.”

Her friends did not need to be told twice. One by one, Twilight felt them gather their bearings and tap their Elements, channeling the mysterious power to her. Rainbow Dash was first. The bond connecting her to the Element of Loyalty churned and boiled like a summer storm, and Equinox formed into a six-pointed star before her.

After Dash was Rarity. The power held by the Element of Generosity was unlike the primal might that described Loyalty. At first it seemed weaker; the cool sense of focus that came with it was certainly nowhere near as strong as the thunderstorm of might that came with Rainbow’s contribution. In actuality it was simply different, magic woven into a million delicate forms. The power that Rarity gave to Twilight was beautifully complex.

Laughter came next. It washed over Twilight and she immediately felt a renewed sense of confidence as a warm, glowing strength filled her. It too was totally unlike the others—it felt more like sunlight on her smiling face than a work of art. Suddenly, Twilight felt reassured. Titan wasn’t so scary. Not to them.

Honesty was a straightforward link through which Twilight was granted even more power. Unlike the seething energy that came with loyalty, honesty’s might seemed to hardly move at all. It was like a mountain, solid and ancient and entirely immutable. Twilight opened her eyes, which she vaguely remembered closing at some point, and felt them burn with the growing magic inside.

She would have been able to identify Fluttershy’s contribution even if the pegasus hadn’t been the last pony to connect. The magic granted by the Element of Kindness was the magic of life, pure and simple. Twilight couldn’t describe what made her recognize the power other than the fact that she was alive. Aside from material composition, it was what set her apart from a stone or a chair.

Finally, Twilight called upon magic itself, and the energy came to her like an old friend. Apart, the power provided by the Elements was unique. Together, it was universal; Twilight knew she held in her mind a sample of the energy that ran through everything that existed, ever. Titan’s supposed dominion.

They were lifted into the air. Six friends, who had been through war and faced it together. Six friends, who had come out beaten and scarred but still friends. All of them worked together to give power to Twilight, who told it what she needed it to do. It wasn’t anything like unicorn magic—she didn’t need any mental capacity or focus to direct it. Instead it simply obeyed her wishes.

And it did so eagerly. The room itself shook as the Elements allotted more power than they ever had into the rainbow beam of pure energy that thundered toward the king. Titan stared on, his face not comprehending the situation until the second before the beam struck him, at which point he uttered a single word:

“No.”

All the color went out of the world.

The rainbow beam of energy froze as it became a slur of grey and black. The light coming in through the windows changed from a golden yellow to a harsh white. before her, the six-pointed gem that represented the Element of Magic became a murky glass imitation. Centimeters away from Titan, the beam shattered into thousand of tiny fragments that rang as they struck the floor. Twilight fell out of the air.

She didn’t have any time to second-guess her next move; she had done plenty of second guessing before hand. She reached into her mind, probing through the now inert Elements of Harmony. There was one connection that was different from the others. It was a twisted, knotted cord of magic that pulled power away from the Element of Magic, rather than giving power to it. With the haste of a pony too afraid of what hesitation might bring, Twilight snapped it. All aspects of her plan had a plan B. Even this one.

The broken fragments of their previous attack had all dissipated, and silence filled the achromatic Court of the Sun. Titan stood across from her entirely unharmed. He spoke in a very quiet, very low whisper that was devoid of his godhood:

“You dare,” he muttered, and Twilight could hear him only because there were no other sounds in the room. “You dare!” he boomed, once again assuming the resonating voice that came with being an alicorn.

He crossed the distance between the two of them faster than even Twilight could see, then batted her across the room with a foreleg. Twilight felt several of her bones break despite her armor as she was thrown across the room to collide with the back wall. She sagged down to land next to Empyrean’s corpse.

Across the room, Titan emitted a thunderous wave of force that scattered her friends before appearing in front of her once again. His horn flashed, and Twilight was immediately trapped inside a tangled mess of conjured white cord. She tried to undo them with magic, only to find the task virtually impossible. This was not Titan’s avatar; this was Titan himself, and counteracting his magic was nigh impossible.

“You dare use the magic of harmony against me?”

There was a sickening crunch that sounded all-together too close to Twilight, and a pain shot through her forehead. Titan’s mane reached out and grabbed her face, thrusting it upward until she was looking directly into his eyes. She felt a trickle of blood run down her face.

“You have taught me something today, pony. This is no small feat.”

Her horn, she realized with a pang of dread, he had ripped her horn off. Like a colt pulling wings of a fly.

“Before now, I thought you ponies a faded shadow of the will and soul of the alicorn. But I was mistaken.”

His head snapped around, and past him Twilight saw Rainbow Dash shooting through the air toward the king. Titan’s horn flashed, and there was a sickening crunch as Dash was pummeled into the floor by an unseen force. Titan turned back to Twilight coolly.

“You feel and desire just as we do, don’t you, Twilight Sparkle? There is just as much equinity in each of you as there is in me. How monstrous. Equinity is a terrible thing to live with. How do you bear it? Each of you, powerless and dying throughout all of you lives. Each of you wanting and loving and hating, but so young you cannot possess true knowledge.”

His voice was overpowering, and Twilight could not help but hear every word he spoke despite the pain it caused. “How are you not crushed under your own insignificance?” Titan mused. “How do you live, when you know you will die? How can you look upon the world with anything but fear when you know you are unable to change it?”

Singularity slipped into existence beside Titan, a simple length of unwavering darkness. The air around it seemed to distort, and Twilight felt a tug coming from the weapon. “Even you,” Titan whispered, his eyes wide. “The greatest of your kind and the wielder of the magic of harmony, are nothing before me.” The blade came toward her.

Twilight teleported. She landed softly on the floor at the other side of the room, and immediately her mind reeled. She hadn’t teleported herself; she didn’t even have a horn anymore. Which meant that—

An ice cream sundae popped into existence before her. It was a decadent dessert: ripples of butterscotch throughout the mounds of vanilla cream, hot fudge drizzled over cherries and blueberries, banana slices and pecans garnishing the edges of the bowl. Stuck to the side of the sundae was a small note, each letter written perfectly in a different typeface: You’ve earned it.

Twilight rolled onto her back to see Titan standing over her, and felt a strange click followed by a familiar weight on her forehead. The elder god looming before her looked from Twilight, to the ice cream, to her newly healed horn, then spoke in a godless voice that was hardly a whisper.

“If ever there was any hope of redemption for your race, it is gone now. You will die by the thousands. This is unforgivable.”

Laughter rang throughout the chamber, echoing off of the walls despite the fact that every window had been shattered. Twilight looked up at Titan, her eyes burning with defiance, as she slowly used her newly restored magic to raise the spoon to her mouth and take a bite of her ice cream. It was delicious.

Titan turned to look to the center of the room, where the new arrival sat at a tiny table set for two, drinking tea. “Your daughter is on her way,” he said as he set his teacup down. The entire table burst into flames. “Until then,” Discord said lightly as his freakish face was bathed in the flickering firelight. “We have so much catching up to do, don’t we, Order?”

Terra didn’t fight Celestia. She had taken one look at her ascendant daughter and fled, leaping into the sky to jet off in the direction of Canterlot.

Celestia had cursed her judgement and followed. She had been certain Terra would engage her. Hadn’t her mother said she believed herself to be stronger than Celestia when it came to combat? Apparently even Terra knew she had only been boasting.

They each broke the sound barrier with a pair of thunderous cracks, and Celestia cursed her flight capabilities. As Princess, she didn’t often go flying, and the month of inactivity was weighing on her. Terra was gaining a considerable lead despite Celestia’s slight age advantage. It made sense; Luna had always been a better flier than Celestia, and Luna had been raised by Terra.

The friction in the atmosphere around Celestia ignited the air, and she began to trace a blazing trail across the sky as the edge of the Everfree passed beneath her. Her nostrils were filled with the scent of ozone.

She looked ahead of her to see that Terra had gotten closer. Apparently Celestia’s knowledge of flight was coming back to her. Still, several hundred meters separated her from the green and gold speck that was her mother. Beyond her loomed the titanic mountain that sheltered the city of Canterlot.

They had covered a great deal of ground. Celestia hadn’t ever flown this fast. She wondered briefly if Titan ever pushed his abilities to see what he was capable of. As undisputed rulers of the world, what need would either of them have had to practice their art? Even as a child, Terra had taught them how to use their innate magic. Titan had dealt exclusively with matters of the state and manipulation.

Celestia realized that she wasn’t going to catch Terra before she reached Canterlot, despite her age advantage. It irked her somewhat that Terra was better at focusing her pegasus magic than her, but she knew she still had the advantage when it came to raw power. She also doubted that Terra was anywhere near as potent a spellcaster as she.

Terra dipped in toward the palace, as Celestia expected she would, just as the distance between them began to close. Celestia wondered what had compelled Terra to come to this particular spot.

It could be a trap. Perhaps Titan survived Twilight’s plan and her subjects were dead. It was certainly possible he had some way of communicating with his wife, and he had called her to that particular spot.

If so Celestia was already dead. She might be able to evade Titan from a distance, but if he was in the city she would not be able to escape him. She might be able to burn the air around her with the speed of her flight, but Titan hardly needed to flap his wings at all.

Perhaps—and Celestia hoped that this was the case—Titan had been slain, and Terra was simply running to the last place she had known him to be. She smiled grimly at the thought of Terra landing and finding nopony to protect her.

Her mind ran through a dozen scenarios, all with outcomes that fell somewhere between the two. For all of them, her best or only course of action was to follow her mother. She angled herself to descend after Terra as the other goddess made for the Court of the Sun.

Her court had seen better days. The windows and most of the ceiling were gone, and the ground surrounding it was strewn with rubble. Terra went in fast, and hit the bare stone floor with a resounding impact before skidding to a halt. Celestia followed her, banking in so that she landed on the other side of the room. Then she took in the situation.

The entirety of her court was bare. Not a single fragment of glass or stone marred its austere appearance, and the carpet was inexplicably gone. This she took in with a glance. What was more pressing was the room’s occupants.

Across the chamber, Terra had slid to a halt next to Titan, who appeared very much alive and unharmed. Celestia was positioned in front of Twilight and her five friends, who were also still alive somehow. Poised on the floor right next to her, wearing a trickster’s grin, was—

“Discord,” Terra spat with more venom than Celestia had ever heard in her voice.

In a moment, Discord had slithered through the air between himself and Terra and coiled his body around her. “Terra,” he said cordially as he placed a furry paw beneath her chin. “Still...” he placed his claw beneath his own chin as he seemed to search for the words to finish his sentence. “Daddy’s little girl?”

Daddy? Terra was Titan’s daughter? Celestia’s father eyed her coolly. “Celestia.”

She gave him a very slight nod. “Titan.”

With a sickeningly fluid motion, Discord coiled across the room to stand beside Celestia. “I saved your Twilight Sparkle,” he said. “Aren’t you proud of me? Titan was going to kill her.”

Celestia looked back at Twilight, who was wearing some of the sky. Twilight looked away.

It hurt. Not just because Twilight hated her—she had a good reason to, after all. Rather, it hurt because Celestia had failed her. The entire conflict was the result of one moment of foolish mercy on her part.

“I should have killed you,” she whispered.

“You should have killed me,” Titan agreed. “But you were not a worthy successor. Your equinity betrayed you.”

Discord chuckled, then appeared behind Titan in a flash. “But there are so much better things to do with your enemies,” he said airily. Then the draconequus reached down and picked the broken corpse of an infant off the floor, wrapping his claw around the tiny head with ease. “Wouldn’t you agree, Order? Or shall I call you Titan, now?”

Titan was silent as Discord blew the dead child’s mane out of his face. His smile curved back into a sneer. “Let me guess,” he said, “Empyrean? Isn’t that cute.” He appeared next to Celestia.

Enough was enough. Twilight had released Discord, and the rest of her plan was obvious. It was time to observe the final protocol of the immortal game.

“Titan,” Celestia said evenly. “I declare myself and my sister sovereign rulers over all of Equestria.”

Titan’s impassive expression didn’t change as the air before him rippled and churned, then turned to an inky black. The writhing darkness coalesced into a glossy black breastplate, which affixed itself to his chest. “You intend to fight me for control?”

“If I have to,” she answered.

Another fragment of the king’s armor was wrought from nothing and attached to his back with an echoing clang. “Terra.”

Terra had not stopped staring daggers at Discord. “Yes, father.”

Titan was now covering his legs in the conjured warplate. “You will kill Celestia,” he said simply.

Terra looked at Celestia and her mouth twisted into a grin. “Yes, father.”

Celestia returned the look. “Discord.”

She had to suppress the urge to shudder as the draconequus wrapped himself around her and whispered in her ear, “Yes, Celestia?”

“Titan and Terra are our mutual enemies.”

“Hmm, I suppose they are, aren’t they?”

“I propose a temporary alliance until they have been dealt with.”

Discord let out another throaty chuckle. “I thought you’d never ask. I accept.” He slithered back to his place beside her. “Temporarily, of course.”

Again Celestia had to resist the urge to shudder. A world under Discord was arguably just as bad as a world under Titan, and the draconequus no doubt intended to double-cross her once Titan was dead. Still they had dealt with him before. Better the devil they knew.

Discord rubbed his paw and claw together as he spoke to Titan. “I am going to make you feel, old friend. I’m going to make you feel everything.”

Titan drew Singularity, and Celestia immediately felt it tugging on her. “I am going to unmake you,” he intoned emotionlessly. “As Canterlot is an asset to all of us, I would like to put forth the Dark Heart of the Everfree Forest as a suitable location. To start with.”

To start with. Just how much power were Titan and Discord capable of throwing around? “The mountain?” Celestia asked.

“It is now a plateau.” Was her father’s answer. Apparently that much.

“Well then,” Discord said lightly. “I suppose we ought get started, if everypony and everydraconequus is ready.” Then he slithered to the end of the room and wrapped himself around Twilight. He gave her a look that made Celestia feel sick. “I’ll be seeing you again,” he said softly.

Discord snapped, and they were gone.

Friendship is Magic

Friendship is Magic

Celestia was dying. Singularity was buried in her chest, drawing the very life out of her flesh. It wasn’t painful. It didn’t even make her feel weak. As Titan channeled his magic into his blade, her body simply began to shut down. Each heartbeat came weaker than the last.

It was taking too long, though. Titan wasn’t just stronger than Celestia—he was stronger than her by an order of magnitude. By all rights, she should be dead already. So why wasn’t she?

Zenith was still embedded in Titan’s chest, but its light was dwindling by the second. Celestia mustered every ounce of unicorn magic she possessed and poured it into her blade, and its light grew to a blinding intensity.

Titan cringed. It was a small motion, almost imperceptible, but it was there. What had Discord done to him? Whatever it was, Celestia was hurting him. Celestia was putting him in danger. Her heart stuttered in her chest. The end of war was worth anything.

“You’re weak,” she said between labored gasps. “I can kill you.”

Her heart beat again, so faint she could barely feel it. How long until her blood grew still in her veins?

Something flashed over Titan’s face for barely a moment. Celestia couldn’t quite place what it was. Some kind of recognition. She felt a glimmer of hope. Was that the face Titan made when he was afraid?

The world around them darkened as Singularity drew the light out of the air. “Terra!” Titan cried, his voice urgent. Celestia realized with a start that she had completely forgotten about her mother. Celestia tried to chuckle and wound up coughing up a gout of blood. She really wasn’t on her game today.

Terra was at her side in moments with Exogenesis raised. Celestia had to tear her blade out of Titan’s chest to deflect her mother’s killing blow. Their blades burned against each other. Celestia's hope of killing Titan died somewhere between the shimmering weapons.

Terra grinned. “Looks like this is it, Sunshine.”

Celestia looked from Titan to Terra. She shut her eyes. “Another day,” she whispered.

She mustered every ounce of magical energy she could—pegasus, earthpony, everything. Zenith went out as she drew its power into herself. She called heat and force, pouring all her unicorn magic into one simple spell.

The wave of magic struck Titan first, burning every hair off his body and hurling him backwards even as it shattered the surrounding trees. Terra at least had the decency to scream as she was cast away like a child’s plaything.

Celestia shocked her body back into life with all of her earthpony magic. Wounds closed and flesh reknit in an instant as she crouched down and called on her pegasus magic.

She broke the sound barrier taking off from a standstill, leaving her parents behind as she arced through the sky towards Canterlot. Celestia threw out her magical senses in an effort to sense whether or not she was being pursued. She wasn’t. Not unless Titan himself was coming after her. Celestia put a little more force into her wing thrusts.

Three days. Whatever Discord had done to Titan would last for three days. Three days to find out how she was going to fight two alicorns who severely outclassed her.

It was as Celestia approached the city that she felt a trickle of thick fluid run out of the corner of her mouth. She wiped it away with a hoof, assuming that it was just blood or saliva. It was neither. Her hoof came away black.

Only then did Celestia realize that not an ounce of her magic had regenerated since she left the forest. Titan had made her powerless.

They’d been given rooms in the castle to use for the night shortly after Celestia’s return. Fluttershy had refused to take up such an enormous suite on her lonesome, and so had Applejack.

“Applejack?” Fluttershy called out to the darkness. The only light in the room was the starlight, falling through open windows to cast itself across the bedspread in an uneven pattern. Canterlot beds were both very large and very soft, and the one that Fluttershy and Applejack shared was no exception. Fluttershy didn’t mind, but Applejack hadn’t stopped shifting about since they’d gone to bed.

“Dang bed is too soft,” Applejack muttered as she rolled over. “Feels like it’s stuffed with clouds and pegasus feathers. I’m gonna sink in and drown in my sleep.”

Fluttershy actually loved having a proper bed to sleep on for once. She wondered if Applejack’s inability to sleep really stemmed from the bed—after all, Canterlot Castle had more than enough rooms for all of them.

“Have you tried counting pegasi?”

“No,” Applejack said, rubbing her eyes. “I can’t count ‘em all at once. Quick little buggers...”

Fluttershy frowned. “Have you tried drinking a warm glass of milk?”

Applejack looked at Fluttershy and raised an eyebrow. “And where am I gonna get a warm glass of milk?” She shook her head. “Canterlot milk tastes funny anyway. No fat.”

“Okay,” Fluttershy said. “Well, how about you just close your eyes and imagine you’re in your bed at home?”

Applejack let out an exasperated sigh. “Well that does it,” she said. “Now I’m never getting to sleep. Thanks, Fluttershy.”

Fluttershy cringed. “Oh, I’m sorry. What did I do?”

“Nothin’,”Applejack said. “You didn’t do anything. It’s not your fault. I guess I’m just homesick is all.”

“Oh,” Fluttershy said. She sat up. “Well if you’re not going to get to sleep, do you want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly,” Applejack said, propping herself up on her forelegs. “It’s just, I’ve never been this long without them before. Family is why I do what I do, you know? Don’t get me wrong—I love the farm. But this mark on my flank has a lot more to do with the Apple Family than with the fruit.”

“You miss them.”

“What if Apple Bloom comes back.” Applejack’s voice cracked. “And she’s got her cutie mark? She’s the right age. What if I miss that because I’m out here? I know that I have a duty to do. I hate myself for thinkin’ it, but sometimes I think it ain't fair.”

“You’ll see them again,” Fluttershy whispered.

“But what if I don’t?” Applejack asked. “What if we lose, and Apple Bloom is waitin’ for me to come take her home. And I never come...” Tears started to roll off of Applejack’s face.

Fluttershy shifted over on the bed and wrapped her forelegs around Applejack. “That won’t happen,” she whispered as Applejack buried her face in Fluttershy’s coat and sniffed. “We’ve done too much already to lose now. You’re going to see them again, Applejack.”

Fluttershy expected Applejack to pull away and wipe the few tears from her face. Instead, she Applejack clung to her like a child. Applejack did her best to stifle her sobs, and her quiet cries became the only sound in the room. “It hurts,” she whimpered after a time.

Fluttershy stroked Applejack’s back. “Because you love them.”

Applejack shook her head against Fluttershy’s coat. “No,” she said. “Not being away. The fighting. The dying.” Applejack’s eyes grew distant, staring off at something that Fluttershy couldn’t see. “It still hurts just as much when I get my bones broken or my skin torn off. I’ve been crushed to death and choked. I’ve seen my insides, Fluttershy, hanging out and....”

Fluttershy had no idea what to say. She rarely took the field, and when she did, it was almost never with Applejack. Still, even she’d seen the mare snap bones back into place and spit out mouthfuls of blood without even flinching. How could Applejack have possibly done those things while in pain?

“Fire,” Applejack whispered, still staring off into space. “Fire’s the worst. The heat gets inside me. Inside my armor. The metal heats up like a stovetop, and I can’t pull away. I just keep healing, and burning, and all I can smell is cooked meat. I can’t breathe, because then the fire gets in my lungs.” She swallowed. “And my eyes melt...”

“Shhh,” Fluttershy said, rubbing Applejack’s back. “You’re okay now, Applejack. You’re here with me.”

Applejack swallowed, nodding. “Thanks, Fluttershy. I’m an earthpony. I think I can go another night without sleep. Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

Fluttershy didn’t let go. “I have a little earthpony magic too, Applejack. Remember? I’m here for you as long as you need me.”

Applejack groaned as the sunlight struck her eyes. Birdsong reached her ears. It was morning, then. “Guess I fell asleep,” she said.

Fluttershy smiled. “Mhm,” she said. “Sometimes all you need is a good cry.”

Applejack propped herself up and looked down at Fluttershy, who was directly below her. She blushed. “I slept on you,” she said. “I guess it beats the mattress. And I cried.”

“There’s nothing wrong with crying, Applejack.”

Applejack sighed and rested her head on Fluttershy’s chest. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t tell Dash.”

“Don’t tell me what?” Rainbow Dash asked as she hovered into the room carrying a platter covered in waffles. “Are you two keeping seeee—” The platter clattered to the floor as Dash stopped in her tracks. “Uh... hey you two.” Dash’s face began to turn a deep shade of red. “Uh, hey... you... two,” Dash said slowly.

“This looks bad, dunnit?” Applejack said from where she lay on top of Fluttershy in the bed.

Dash’s eyes were wide. “I uh, came with—er, brought. I brought waffles for you. Two.” She looked intently at the floor where her platter had fallen and spilt its contents. “I’ll go get more,” she whispered as she slowly backed out of the doorway.

“Dash,” Applejack tried to stumble out of bed, but her legs were still tangled up in Fluttershy’s. “Dash!” Fluttershy squeaked as Applejack finally pulled herself free and toppled to the floor. Applejack grunted before running after Rainbow Dash.

Fluttershy couldn’t help it. She giggled as she climbed out of bed. Her mane needed brushing, but that wasn’t something she could do on her own. It didn’t matter; Rarity would likely take one look at her over breakfast and drag her off to a mirror.

A blue jay chirped from her window ledge, and Fluttershy froze. Her and the animals used to groom each other as part of her morning routine. Ever since Titan had returned, however, she’d hardly been able to do anything but scare them away.

Just like every time before this one, Fluttershy found herself hoping that this bird would be different. She hesitated to speak to it, though; she didn’t want it to fly off. Whatever Titan had done, Twilight hadn’t been able to undo it. Fluttershy wished she had her own unicorn magic. It was a selfish wish, but she felt helpless not being able to at least try to return the animals to the way they were.

A thought occurred to her: she had a little earthpony magic. She had to have a little pegasus magic; or she wouldn’t be able to fly. What if she had other magic too?

Twilight’s voice sounded in her mind. Unicorn magic requires study and focus. But what was she supposed to focus on? It’s about shaping the universal energy within all of us. Fluttershy tried to clear her mind and find magic within herself. She closed her eyes, reaching past the gentle breeze that was her pegasus magic, and the far less malleable well of strength that she knew to be earthpony magic.

To her surprise, she found something.

She recognized it instantly; it was the same source of power that she tapped when she used the stare. Was the stare unicorn magic? She’d have to ask Twilight or Rarity about it when she got the chance. For now, her attention was on the bird.

Fluttershy focused on the blue jay idling atop the windowsill and tried to reach for the power within her. Immediately she realized why unicorns were always going on about how much focus their magic took—it was difficult to concentrate on both the bird and the magic.

Still, she tried, and after several minutes, she felt something begin to gather in the air between her and the bird. Fluttershy had expected something that felt electrical; an energy that she would need to contain. Instead what she felt was almost musical. It was a song; she could almost hear it building inside her, yearning for release. She opened her mouth, preparing to sing.

“Fluttershy?” Dash said as she strode into the room.

Immediately the magic left Fluttershy, and a choked cry escaped her lips as the blue jay flew away, startled.

Dash waved a hoof in front of her face. “Equestria to Fluttershy! We’re having breakfast out in the courtyard.”

“Oh,” Fluttershy said, turning to Rainbow Dash. “Sorry. I’ll be right out.”

“Yeah,” Dash said. “And Fluttershy? Thanks for taking care of Applejack.”

“It was nothing,” Fluttershy said. “She just needed a release.”

“Uh, yeah,” Dash said. “I’ll bet she did.” Rainbow Dash started to blush again. Fluttershy smiled.

“Waffles!” Unimpressive shouted as Fluttershy glided into the courtyard. “Waffles for everypony. That includes you, Fluttershy, so take a seat.”

All of her friends sat around a picnic table in the sunlight except for Twilight. It was too bad; Fluttershy had intended to ask her about unicorn magic. “You made waffles?” she said. “Thank you.”

“Pinkie Pie helped,” Unimpressive told her as she sat down. “Although ‘helped’ may not be the best word for it. I’m beginning to suspect she sees baking as a zero-sum game where she gets to eat the food based on her input. Anyway, waffles there,” he said, pointing at a platter of steaming waffles. He began to point around the table. “Also whipped cream, sugared strawberries, maple syrup, various fruit slices, orange juice, butter, milk, and buttermilk. Also whiskey. Breakfast of champions.”

“That’s whiskey?” Rainbow Dash asked, peering at the square bottle that Unimpressive had pointed to last.

“Best cure for a hangover,” Unimpressive said.

Rarity wrinkled her nose. “Why did you make us breakfast, exactly?”

“Excellent question!” Unimpressive said. “You see, I’ve figured out that none of you have any actual duties within the army, and nopony has the guts to tell you what to do. The more time I spend around you guys, the less actual work I have to do!”

“You worked before?” Rarity said.

Unimpressive held a hoof to his chest. “I trained bladecasters!” he said. “And killed things. And let me tell you, I take those two duties very seriously. It’s important not to get the two confused and end up doing both at once.”

Fluttershy began to take tiny bites out of her waffles. “Do we know where Twilight is yet?” she asked, careful to do so without her mouth full to avoid Rarity’s ire.

“Nope,” Applejack said through the fork she was using to prod some apple slices. “Nopony’s seen her since yesterday mornin’.”

Rarity held up a hoof, and everypony waited as she finished the food she was eating. “We absolutely have to find her,” she said. “The poor mare must have so much on her mind today, what with the gods making war and my dead father and all. I do hope it’s not troubling her too much.” She wiped her knife on a napkin before picking out a choice strawberry. “He isn’t worth a second of discomfort.” Red juice filled her mouth as she crushed the strawberry with her teeth.

“Well,” Unimpressive said as he poured whiskey all over a waffle. “It’s a good thing Princess Celestia came back, or we’d be missing a leader. You guys should probably talk to her at some point, being heroes and all. Oh and we turned out the dungeons last night, some guy wanted to talk to you.” He folded the entire alcohol-soaked waffle into his mouth and began to chew noisily.

“A pony wanted to talk to us?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Mmph,” Unimpressive said through his waffle. Whiskey dribbled down his chin. “Not a pony. Dragon. Little guy about yea high.” He held a hoof a short distance over the table. “Mostly mentioned Twi but you came up too,” he glanced at Rarity.

Every pony seated at the table exchanged stunned looks. “Spike,” Fluttershy whispered.

“Twilight?”

Her face was plastered to the side of an open book, and the desk surrounding her was covered in even more tomes. For Twilight Sparkle, it was not a strange way to wake up. Or, at least, it never used to be strange. Lately she was more used to being surrounded by corpses than books. Twilight woke, and the memory of who she had become and what she was doing realized itself in her mind. Astor. Celestia. Titan. Discord.

“Spike?” she said so quietly she barely even heard herself.

Twilight had committed murder. She’d been used as a weapon, and she’d used others as weapons in turn. She’d watched ponies die for nothing simply because they’d been in the way of a god. She’d learned the truth behind the world she lived in: the paradise Celestia had built for them was an illusion built on top of a greater nightmare. The world was a dark place.

But when she turned to see Spike standing in the doorway, it became a little lighter.

“So, yeah,” Spike said, looking around at Celestia’s study, which was strewn with rubble and books. “I’m not dead. I guess the bad guy lied.”

Twilight grabbed him with her magic and pulled him into a close embrace. “Spike! You’re alive!”

Spike’s voice was thick with emotion. “So are you,” he said. “They told me...” He sniffed. “They said you’d...”

“I know,” Twilight whispered. “Where have you been all this time?”

“The dungeon,” he said. “They’ve been using it ever since Princess Celestia died. Or, I thought she died. Applejack told me you brought her back.”

“Yeah,” Twilight said. “Sort of. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“Me? I’m fine,” Spike said. “The dungeon was really boring, though. Nothing to do all day and all they fed me was hay. I need some gemstones.”

Twilight didn’t know it was possibly to laugh and sob at the same time. “We can get you some gemstones, Spike.”

“So,” he said. “I figured I’d find you here. End of the world and you’re studying.”

“Pretty much,” Twilight said.

“Learn anything?”

Twilight sighed. “Nothing I didn’t already know. Any mention of how the Elements of Harmony might work is just speculation. And all of it is wrong. There’s no mention of them or Discord in Astor’s journal, either.”

“Relax, Twilight,” Spike said. “You’ll figure it out.”

If I don’t, Twilight thought, we lose. If not to Titan, then to Discord. “I just don’t understand!” she shouted, standing. “Every time I think I learn more about them, all I really learn is how little I know! They have to have a power source; they have to have had an architect. Somepony made them, so they have to have purpose. Theoretically I should be able to figure out why they aren’t working, and why Titan can resist them. But I can’t. I can’t do it.”

“You don’t understand Pinkie Pie’s Pinkie Sense either,” Spike said.

“I don’t need her Pinkie Sense to save the world.”

“Oh,” Spike said. “Right.”

Twilight sighed again. “What time is it?”

“Sun just came up,” Spike said.

“What?” Twilight shouted. “I was out for a whole night? What about Titan and Discord? They can’t still be fighting.”

Spike shrugged. “I dunno. Celestia’s back, though. Maybe you should talk to her.”

“Yeah,” Twilight said. “Maybe I should. Come on.” She levitated him onto her back and set out for the courtyard. Somepony there would be able to tell her where Celestia was.

“Hey, Twi?” Spike asked as Twilight strode through the halls. “What’s with the costume?”

Twilight frowned. “It’s a uniform, Spike.”

“It looks ridiculous.”

Twilight called out to the first pony she saw. “You there!” The pony turned, and, much to her dismay, bowed. Twilight much preferred it when all they did was salute. She was their general. Not their god. “Where is Princess Celestia?”

“In the castle library,” the pony said. “Her court was destroyed. Would you like me to take you there, ma’am?”

“No, thanks.” Twilight could find the library well enough on her own. She began to make her way through the inner courtyard, which hadn’t seen any damage from the fighting. Esteem had apparently seen to it that the gardens remained well-kept.

Luna landed and fell in beside her. “Twilight Sparkle. I am glad I found thee.”

Twilight nodded. “I’m glad you got out of the Everfree okay.”

“I owe thee a debt, Twilight Sparkle. My sister is alive because of thee. Despite our differences, I cannot thank thee enough.”

“Who won?” Twilight asked. “And why haven’t they acted yet?”

“As Celestia tells it, Discord has fled our world. He left Titan afflicted with a powerful spell. Titan is weakened and fears taking action. Celestia has been similarly afflicted. She says this will last for two more days.”

Twilight took the new information in stride. “Then Terra is the strongest alicorn alive.”

“Yes,” Luna said. “We do not know why she has not yet attacked.”

“It would be a blunder,” Twilight said. “If Titan has her wait with him, he’ll win in two days. There’s no need to get impatient and send Terra out now. He has nothing to fear from us.”

“Nothing?” Luna asked, her voice growing softer. “Truly?”

Twilight shook her head. “The Elements are dead. I don’t know how they work, or why they’ve stopped. None of the books I brought from Ponyville were any help, and neither was Astor’s journal.”

Luna swallowed. “Thou didst read Astor’s journal?”

“About half of it,” Twilight said. “It paints your sister in an interesting light. I’m on my way to talk to her now.”

“Thou art angry with her.”

“I am.”

Luna stopped Twilight with an outstretched hoof. “You have every right to be angry, Twilight Sparkle. But Celestia has done more for ponykind than you will ever know. Remember that.”

“It isn’t about what she did to ponykind. It’s about what she did to me.” Twilight walked around Luna’s hoof.

“Uh, Twilight?” Spike asked. “Since when did you get angry at Celestia?”

Since I took her place. “You can’t be here for this, Spike. Go find Rarity.”

“But, but we just...”

“I know, Spike. I’m sorry. I’ll find you in a bit and we’ll catch up.”

“This stinks,” Spike said.

“Believe me, Spike,” Twilight said. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Spike hopped off her back and began to waddle away. “You better bring gems!” he called out as he left.

Luna fell into step beside Twilight once again. “Celestia is weak, Twilight Sparkle. You can’t see it, but it’s taking all of her earthpony magic just to stay on her hooves.”

“Well then she’ll just have to cope.”

“You don’t understand, Twilight Sparkle. You can hurt her more than you realize. She loves you. You know she does.”

Twilight gritted her teeth. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now if you’ll excuse me.” She threw open the doors to the library and stepped through them.

The Canterlot Castle library was a maze of enormous bookshelves that stretched up to a ceiling over twenty meters high. Thick red carpet served the purpose of muffling sound, and Twilight had spent many hours of her youth reading in the booths along the upper floor balcony. Off-color stone and conspicuously absent shelves marked where Titan and Celestia had battled on the night of her defeat.

It had been converted into their new command center. Tables had been removed from the booths and set up in between bookshelves. Most of them now held maps, or books, or both, but some of them seemingly existed only as a place for ponies to gather around. Twilight frowned at the noise level of some of the discussions going on. They should’ve kept their voices down. It was still a library, after all. She fought the sudden urge to shush them.

Celestia stood at a meeting of several tables in the center of the room, surrounded by Twilight’s friends. Twilight reasoned that Celestia’s presence was doing wonders for their morale.

She cleared her throat as she entered, and it wasn’t long before everypony in the room was looking at their master general expectantly. Twilight realized too late that she hadn’t bowed to Princess Celestia. Not that she was in the mood for it, anyway.

Twilight raised her voice. “I will speak with the princess,” she said. “Alone.” Ponies began to file out of the room. Celestia winced.

Applejack approached her almost immediately. “Your mum and dad are alright, Twi, but your mum took a hit to the chest. She’s gunna be fine, but she’s in the hospital for now. Understand?”

Twilight had forgotten about her parents. “Thanks, Applejack. Go find Spike. He’s probably really upset that I left him so soon after finding out he’s still alive.”

“Sure thing, Twi. Come on, girls!”

Twilight’s friends were the last ponies to leave the library. Twilight waited until she was alone with Celestia. This conversation would be for them alone.

Luna had been right. There were no signs to indicate that Celestia was afflicted with anything: her coat practically shone, and her mane was at its usual luminescence. Her royal regalia once again adorned her form. She looked perfect.

“You spoke to my friends,” Twilight said. “Did they seem happy?”

Celestia closed her eyes. “Yes.”

“That’s nice,” Twilight said as she stepped closer. “You know Applejack hasn’t seen her family or been to Sweet Apple Acres for over a month?”

“No, Twilight,” Celestia whispered. “I didn’t.”

“Rarity is homeless. The only thing she owns is a unicorn blade. Fourteen parts. Remarkable, really.” Twilight began to pace. “Her father taught her, you see—or maybe you already knew. We haven’t spoken much since the battle. I wonder how she’s taking the fact that I killed him.”

“Twilight...”

Twilight spoke over her. “Fluttershy can’t talk to the animals. Titan has been turning them feral. Her special talent. Gone.”

“Twilight, please—”

“At least Pinkie Pie is alright,” Twilight said. “She’s with her friends and she knows that the Cakes are safe in Ponyville. That’s enough for her.”

Twilight telekinetically grabbed the table in front of Celestia and floated it up to an empty booth, leaving the space between them clear. “Do you know what happened to Rainbow Dash?” she whispered. “Nihilus cast a spell on her. One to change her from the most strong-willed, loyal pony I know into a slobbering monster. She picked Dash just because she wanted to break somepony with so much fight in them. The spell came out of a book off of that shelf right over there. I think you know the one.”

Celestia’s pupils diminished to points as her eyes widened. “No,” she whispered.

“Yes,” Twilight said. “You met Nihilus. I know you did; I watched out of her eyes as she destroyed you. I tasted the blood as she tore your ear apart with her teeth. You know the thing that I was trapped inside for so long. You know what she was capable of. It’s funny.” Twilight began to move more tables back into their booths, returning the library to its original state. “I don’t think she’d be nearly as bad if I were corrupted today.”

“Don’t say that, Twilight.”

“Twilight,” she said. “Twilight Sparkle. It’s sounds almost unfamiliar to me now. My friends have lost everything, but me?” Twilight’s voice was growing louder. “I have it all! I’m a hero! Ponies bow when they see me. And I can kill almost anything I want. What pony could ask for more? After all, isn’t that what you all play your little game for?”

Celestia looked away. “Please, Twilight...”

“Look at me!” Twilight shouted. She spun in place, and her cloak billowed out around her. “I’m Master General Twilight Sparkle! I’m The Godslayer. I’ve become everything you wanted me to be! Aren’t you proud of me, Celestia? Because I’m your little monster.”

“You read her journal,” Celestia whispered. “You saw her memories.”

“Enough of them,” Twilight said. “I can understand why you did a lot of the things you did, but her journal belongs to my family by right. I very much doubt my parents would have given me over to you if they had read it.”

“No,” Celestia said. “They wouldn’t have. You aren’t like Astor Coruscare, Twilight. You could never be like her.”

Twilight’s ears pricked. “I know. But that was your intention, wasn’t it? Astor got out of your control. For me you needed to be a little more subtle. Ponies Make War. The labyrinth. How many other pieces of information have you planted in my mind without me knowing?”

Celestia let out a humorless laugh. “Would you really like me to tell you?”

Twilight ignored her. “You know what the worst part is? I can understand exactly why you did it. When ponykind itself is on the line, what’s one eleven year old filly worth? You were the perfect parental figure, Princess. I imagine after a thousand years it becomes easy to play the role.”

“I’ve never lied about how much I care about you, Twilight. You have to believe me.”

Twilight shuddered. “No,” she said. “I don’t. When you saw me for the first time, what did you see? Did you see Astor Coruscare, a dangerous pony that needed to be contained? Did you see a piece to be played upon Nightmare Moon’s return? Or did you see the Element of Magic, and the only thing in the world capable of destroying you?”

“All of them,” Celestia said. “But the world had changed. I had changed. I knew that Luna’s return was coming, and I had barely started to prepare, I was so afraid of what I’d do. You have no idea how hard it is, Twilight.”

Twilight snorted. “Oh no?”

“No, Twilight. When you want to eat a slice of someone’s cake, do you steal it from them? I’d think not; that would be immoral. So you ask them for a slice of their cake. What if they say no? Do you try to convince them to give you the slice of cake? Do you argue with them using logic and rhetoric? Do you carefully lead their mind to the conclusion that they should give you a slice of their cake?”

“I see where you’re going with this,” Twilight said.

“You’re a filly in the supermarket and you want a candy bar. Do you tell your mother or father outright that you want them to buy you a candy bar? Hardly; your chances of success will be slim. A charismatic child might first remind their parents of how well-behaved they have been. They might mention all of the chores they’ve done around the house. In this way, the candy bar would be presented as a way to reward them. A naughty child might throw a temper tantrum and scream until the embarrassed parents give into their demands.

“You’re a carriage salespony trying to make a sale. You push the customer as much as you can. You act as friendly as possible in the interest of convincing them to buy your carriage. Influence, Twilight. In all cases you influence ponies, and we do not see that as morally reprehensible. It is not okay to steal a piece of cake, or take it by physical force, but it is okay to take it with words. If a pony willfully gives you cake, or buys you a candy bar, or purchases a carriage, no wrong has been done.”

“But the end is the same,” Twilight said.

Celestia smiled and gave a tiny nod. “I have a one more hypothetical situation for you, Twilight.”

Twilight gritted her teeth. “I’m not your student anymore, Celestia.”

Celestia’s mouth hardened into a thin line. “Suppose now that you are a god. Every creature in your kingdom fears and loves you so much that they will do whatever it is you wish. You know yourself capable of making anypony do or believe anything, given enough time and subtle machination. Their identities are as moldable to you as clay, and you have no power to answer to but yourself.

“What is moral, then? If simple influence is moral, then you can take whatever you please and do unto others whatever you wish. But I think we can both agree that at some point influence becomes manipulation, and that this is wrong. Where do you draw that line, Twilight? When you want something, what means become unacceptable?”

“We don’t need to go into hypotheticals!” Twilight shouted. “You lied to me and you used me. That’s wrong.”

“It is,” Celestia said. “I could have told you that I turned my last student into a murderer. I could have told you that I intended to have you risk your life to save my sister Luna. But I was afraid that I would lose you. In the end, all my arguments about what is and isn’t right were academic. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for Ponykind.”

“Well then,” Twilight said. “I guess we agree on something.”

Celestia took a step towards her. “Twilight,” she said. “You taught me things I could never have learned on my own. I am constantly amazed by what you are capable of. You were the greatest student I could have ever asked for, Twilight. An extraordinary mare.”

“Too extraordinary,” Twilight said.

Celestia gave a slight tilt of her head. “What?”

“You taught me too well, Celestia. I’ve learned even the things you’d rather I didn’t know. Tell me, why are we in the library?”

Celestia hung her head. “Twilight...”

“Ponies are naturally averse to change, as you well know,” Twilight said. “And I think it’s safe to say that I’ve been going through some changes lately. As you could probably guess, there’s been stress. You saw the way I started putting away tables earlier—it’s obvious that a part of me wants things to be the way they were. So you chose to position your command in one of my favorite old hangouts, to remind me of the good old days. It’s the same reason you told me all of that garbage about the morality of influence using hypothetical situations. Because that’s the structure of our old lessons.

“I imagine that you calculated when I would be arriving based on when Spike left to find me. You arranged to be with my five friends as I entered, because you know that they can also influence me. You wanted to show me that I’m alone in my dislike of you. Did you arrange for Luna to intercept me as well?”

“Yes.” The word was almost a sob.

“Then,” Twilight said, trembling. “You tell me what I once would have given anything to hear. Not just a ‘good job, Twilight’. You tell me I’m extraordinary. Amazing. That I’ve taught you things. That I’ve become everything you ever wanted. Which, as you know, is everything I ever wanted.”

“All of it is true, Twilight.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Twilight said. “But my problem is that what you wanted was for me to be a tool. I exist to destroy your enemies and protect your people. But the joke is on you, Celestia. You chose wrong. I’ve failed. The Elements don’t work and I don’t think I can figure them out in two days. Titan is going to come back and destroy us all. Unless I do something. Because despite that crown, it’s all still falling on my shoulders.”

Celestia sighed. “I should have told you,” she said. “I should have told you everything. I should have told ponykind everything, but it didn’t fit into my idea of paradise. I’m so sorry, Twilight.”

Twilight ignored her. “He held me down,” she said, raising her voice once again. “Your Captain Esteem.”

“Twilight, please...”

“And as I screamed your name as he trapped me inside a monster. He pushed it through my eye.”

Celestia took another step towards her. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Twilight.”

“I hate you!” Twilight screamed. She could hear her heartbeat and feel the blood pumping through her veins. “You lied to me all my life! You made me feel special! All for this! You...” Twilight felt hot tears running down her face, and she gasped for breath. “You didn’t save me.” Her chest started to ache. She fell to the floor and curled up into a ball. “You’re supposed to make everything better, not me. I have to tell all of my friends to risk their lives every day because... because...” Twilight sobbed.

“Come here, Twilight,” Celestia said, moving to drape a wing over her.

“No!” Twilight shouted as she pushed herself back across the carpet. “Don’t touch me! Just... just stay here. I can’t...” She felt the magic building inside her. “I can’t do this,” she whispered. She shut her eyes as the teleport took her away.

When she opened them, she was in her tower in Canterlot. Apparently it hadn’t seen any use during the occupation. It was exactly the way Twilight had left it.

So why did it feel so different?

“I’m glad all of you could make it,” Twilight said to her collected friends.

Spike scoffed. “Yeah Twi, because there are so many places they could be other than here.”

Twilight’s tower consisted of three circular rooms stacked atop one another and linked by ramps that ran along the outside of the building. The highest room, where they now convened, was also the tallest, and hosted all of her bookshelves as well as a couple magical trinkets. The center of the room was dominated by an hourglass wider around and taller than a pony. An intricate web made of green light hovered above them.

“Wow, Twilight,” Rainbow Dash said, looking at the criss-crossing strands of magical luminescence.

“Yeah,” Twilight said, regarding her web. “Trying to map a four-cuffle enchantment was impossible to do on the blackboard, so I had to move out into three-dimensional space.”

“So,” Rarity said, drawing the word out. “You spoke with Celestia.”

Twilight frowned. “I did, and it went about as well as expected. Did she explain our situation to you?”

“We’ve got two more days,” Applejack said. “Before Titan comes back and turns Canterlot into rubble. Oh, and we brought you some waffles, sugarcube. Figured you haven’t eaten much.”

Twilight realized she hadn’t eaten in almost a day. “Thanks, girls. I’m actually starving, come to think of it.

“Here you go!” Pinkie Pie said as she presented Twilight a platter covered in waffles, whipped cream, and fruit. It looked more than delicious, and Twilight evenly distributed the whipped cream and fruit over the waffles. She began to fold and stuff them into her mouth, squeezing syrup out of the spongy food with every bite. Rarity cringed as a dribble of syrup ran down Twilight’s chin.

“Exactly,” Twilight said through mouthfuls of food. “Which means we have to days to—mmph—who made these? These are delicious.”

“Unimpressive,” Dash said. “I don’t get it either. Guy just like waffles, apparently.”

“I helped!” Pinkie cried.

“Thanks,” Twilight said. “So we have two days before the end of the world. In that time I need to figure out why the Elements don’t work on Titan and how we can not only bring them back to life, but also use them against him. Any questions?”

“Um,” Fluttershy said. Everyone turned toward her. “I have a question for you, Twilight, but it isn’t about this, really.”

“Go ahead,” Twilight said. “I love answering questions.”

“Okay, well,” Fluttershy said. “When you use your magic, does it feel kind of like a... a song? Like you can’t help but try to sing?”

Twilight cocked her head. “Not really, no.”

Fluttershy’s head fell. “Oh. What does it feel like?”

Twilight closed her eyes, and her mane etherealized as she tapped her unicorn powers. “Like the whole of the universe has turned to look solely at me,” she said. “And if I try hard enough, and I’m clever enough, I’ll be able to solve any problem that comes my way. Right now it feels like electricity is running through my veins, and I can sense every object in this room. Including all of you.” She opened her eyes and let her mane fall straight. “Does that help?”

“Sort of,” Fluttershy said. She didn’t elaborate.

“So,” Twilight said to the room at large. “I have been trying to figure out the Elements of Harmony.”

“So you need our Elements?” Rarity asked. “I’m afraid they’re with our armor, darling. Which is back in the keep. You’re the only one who wears their uniform all the time. Though,” she said, putting a hoof to her chin. “With such a fabulous outfit I can see why.”

Twilight laughed. “Actually,” she said. “I have all your armor with me. I took it before I started my research.”

“Then whatever do you need us for, dear?” Rarity asked.

“Glad you asked,” Twilight said. “The first time I was able to focus the Elements was against Nightmare Moon, when I realized how happy I was that you all came for me. The second time was against Discord, after we had shed his magic and reunited as friends. The third time was against Nihilus, when all you came to rescue me. The fourth time was against Titan and, er...” Twilight shot Rarity a glance.

“Esteem,” Rarity said. “It won’t hurt either of us to say it out loud, darling.”

Twilight flashed her a tiny smile. “Esteem,” she said. “That time, it let me share in your strength and saved my life rather than our usual giant rainbow. Anyway, I think you can all see the pattern. I’d like to do some experiments while you’re here. There’s another reason, too. I wanted to see you all again, and I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

Pinkie Pie tilted her head ninety degrees. “Sorry for what?”

“All of you saved my life,” Twilight said as she set her waffles aside. “And I’ve been acting crazy. I keep asking you to put yourselves in danger. Yesterday morning I left you all in the throne room. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Applejack smiled at her. “It’s alright, Twilight. We understand.” Everypony nodded.

“You had good reasons,” Dash said.

“It’s more than that, though,” Twilight said. “I feel...” Twilight struggled to come up with a word. “Better, when you’re around. More like myself. Without you the world is grim. Dark. I can’t think of anything but Nihilus, or violence, or what will happen if we fail. Right now things look worse than they ever have. But with all of you around, it’s easier. I’m happy. Does that make any sense?”

Pinkie Pie stepped forward and put a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “It makes perfect sense, Twilight,” she said. “We’re your friends. You make me feel that way too.”

Twilight’s window shook as a loud crack resonated through Canterlot. Twilight strode to the window and looked out over the city. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “You all heard that, right?” Twilight asked.

Before they could answer her, Twilight’s window shattered, and broken glass rained down to the ground below in a sheet. Shards bounced off of the purple shield that Twilight erected around herself and her friends.

Luna landed in the center of the tower, then shook the glass off her body. “Um,” Twilight said. “There’s a door...”

The Princess spun on Twilight, her eyes frantic. “Ponyville,” she said. “Terra is attacking Ponyville.”

“What?” Twilight shouted. “But that’s insane! Why risk an asset like Terra when waiting guarantees him a victory? What does he have to gain from Ponyville?”

Luna shook her head. “Punishment, Twilight Sparkle. He wants to hurt the six of you. It has nothing to do with winning.”

Twilight choked out a sob. “No!”

“Terra is strong, Twilight Sparkle. Stronger by far than every pony in this room put together.”

Twilight closed her eyes and drew in a rattling breath. “Ponyville has a population of just over two thousand,” she said. She turned to face her friends, and each of them wore the same expression she did. Resolution.

“Suit up,” Twilight said, bringing their armor out of her nullspace. “Your enchantments will still work. Rainbow Dash takes the head of the windstream and carries Applejack; she’s the fastest. I take middle with Rarity. Fluttershy takes Pinkie Pie; Pinkie’s magic makes her lighter.”

“You’re going after her,” Luna whispered.

Rarity began to strap Pinkie Pie into her armor, and Twilight helped Applejack as she nodded to Luna. “Spike, you get to Celestia and tell her to evacuate all of Canterlot.”

Spike looked from pony to pony, all of whom were putting on armor. “But—”

“Spike,” Twilight said. “I will see you again, do you understand me? We can’t hope to kill Terra; only slow her down. It is imperative that we start clearing out population centers.”

“Slow her down?” Luna asked. “You’re talking about an alicorn that is nearly a thousand years old, Twilight Sparkle.”

“A thousand years,” Twilight said. “A thousand years since Astor Coruscare reinvented war magic. Do you have any idea how many scientific innovations we’ve undergone since then?”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “No,” she said. “I was locked in the moon. Twilight, I understand that this is your home. I know that you cannot sit idly by while Terra destroys it. But you are about to put all your lives in more risk than you ever have before. Will this mean anything, Twilight Sparkle? All the hopes of Ponykind rest on your shoulders. Are the lives you might save worth those hopes?”

Twilight considered Luna’s words. Pinkie Pie finished tightening the last strap on her rig, making the six of them ready. A flick of magical energy, and Twilight folded Equinox out of null space. She shaped the motes into a pair of wings made of blade-like tiers and attached them to her back.

“Not a single pony life,” she said, “is worth anything less. We’re in this together.”

Luna nodded. “Then I will carry Applejack. If Rainbow Dash takes the lead alone, she can cut a wider windstream. We’ll get there faster.”

Twilight wondered if the average pegasus knew just how much their magic actually did. It thinned the air before her, thickened the air under her wings, made her lighter and reduced drag forces. All in response to her flapping her artificial wings. The air caught her mane as she soared towards Ponyville, and she used a spell to protect her eyes. Under different circumstances, she might have found flight to be enjoyable.

“This is the plan,” Twilight shouted as Ponyville came into view. “Luna and I will distract Terra. We’ll try to draw her away from the town. The five of you get everypony out and disperse the population.”

“No way, Twi!” Applejack shouted, turning to look back at her. She had to keep a hoof on her hat to keep it from blowing away. “We go with you!”

The Equestrian landscape sped by beneath them, a green quilt crisscrossed with roads and dotted with farmsteads. Ahead of them, smoke rose from Ponyville in great black columns.

“You’ll be fodder that close to Terra!” Twilight shouted. “I can teleport.”

“What about Luna?” Applejack asked.

“Do not worry, Applejack,” Luna said. “My mother will not be interested in killing me. Only torturing.”

From her place at the front of the group, Dash turned back. “Going down!” she shouted. “Where do we land?”

Twilight cursed their lack of a harmonic connection. How was it possible that she could fly but they could no longer sense each other? “We split by standard teams,” she shouted. “Rarity and Applejack go in first. Dash, Pinkie, and Fluttershy take the far side. Luna and I take Terra.”

Dash nodded. “Twilight?” Rarity asked. She’d had her eyes squeezed shut ever since they left Canterlot.

“Yeah, Rarity?”

“Be careful.”

As if being careful would help against the Queen of the world. “I will be.”

“I mean it, Twilight. You’ll give us enough time, and then you’ll come back safe. You must.”

“I’ll try,” Twilight said.

“You must! I’m going to be a fashion designer, Twilight. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life fighting evil with Applejack. She makes fun of me.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Alright, Rarity. But you be careful too.”

Rarity barked out a humorless laugh. “You needn’t worry, darling. I couldn’t possibly die with hair looking like this. It would be a dreadful embarrassment.”

Twilight looked down to see that the wind had blown Rarity’s mane until it stood almost perpendicular to her neck. “Well then,” she said. “I suppose I don’t have to worry.”

“I can see her!” Rainbow Dash called back. “She’s in the town square! She brought puppets!”

Puppets weren’t a problem. Not for them. “Luna, with me! Everyone else touch down on the far side of the square, at the outskirts of town!” She waited a moment before adding, “Good luck!” Luna dipped downward toward Ponyville, and Twilight angled her artificial wings to follow suit.

“Okay, Rarity,” Twilight said as they approached the outskirts of Ponyville. “We’re going to set you two down gently...”

“Incoming!” Applejack screamed as Luna dropped her over five stories. She landed with a boom.

“Please don’t do that to me,” Rarity said. “I’m not invincible.”

Twilight dove toward the ground and Rarity screamed. Dust billowed out around them in a wave as Twilight slowed their fall and set Rarity down.

They were on the outskirts of Ponyville. There was no damage to the surrounding building to indicate that the town was under attack. But ponies fled. Some ran past Twilight and Rarity, and some of them just galloped in circles, looking around for something—or somepony—that they had lost.

Twilight seethed. “Get them out of here,” she said. “Kill anything that tries to hurt them. I’ll see you again.” She shot back into the air.

It didn’t take her long to rejoin Princess Luna. “Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said as Twilight fell in beside her. “You are very likely about to die.”

“Keep her occupied,” Twilight said. “Give me enough time, and I can hurt her.”

“Be cautious, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said. “If Terra even looks at you, run. Never try to directly negate a spell she throws at you, and do not ever enter her close quarters. Remember, this is a distraction, not a fight. If you die, I fear Celestia will never speak to me again.”

“Right,” Twilight said. “Down we go?”

Luna nodded. “Aye.”

Through the spell shielding her eyes, it was easy for Twilight to make out the town square. Or rather, it was easy for her to make out the break in the burning buildings. As they came closer, she saw the forms of ponies scattered across the square. The only ones that were moving were black. Puppets. Puppets and bodies. Twilight swallowed.

At the center of the square, lying atop the statue of Princess Celestia, was Queen Terra. She wore nothing except a crown of thorns and flowers that was constantly growing, wilting, and regrowing. Her head was propped up on a foreleg over the statue’s tiara.

Twilight and Luna landed hard on the packed earth of the square, and Terra ignored them. “That one,” she said, waving a hoof at a nearby pharmacy. Two unicorn puppets began to use their magic, and smoke curled out of the pharmacy’s open windows.

Twilight looked around at the still forms littering the town square and tasted bile. The stallion who ran the bookstore. The mare who ran the flower shop. The colt who delivered the papers. “Luna,” she whimpered.

Luna spoke in a level tone. “Keep your eye on the Queen, Twilight Sparkle.”

Terra groaned. “You know,” she said as she looked over at the two of them. “Buildings were much easier to incinerate a thousand years ago.” She drew a hoof through the air in a decisive chop as her horn glowed. The entire pharmacy burst into flames. “Who would have thought that the sun goddess would crack down so hard on fire safety? Bitch.”

She shifted her head to the other foreleg and glanced around at the town. “How many puppets would you two say I have here?” she asked. “Twenty? Thirty? Two unicorns, right?” Her head swivelled around as she looked at her troops. “Yeah, two unicorns,” she said at last. Terra sighed. “Ah, well.” She gestured limply to Twilight and Luna with a hoof. “Kill ‘em.” The puppets turned in unison towards Twilight and Luna.

Twilight teleported behind the first unicorn and pushed Equinox through its neck. Luna dove at the second, rolled under a series of magic missiles, then executed it with her blade. With both of the unicorns destroyed, the puppets would have no magical defenses. Twilight reached out with her magic, intending to stop their hearts.

She found that she couldn’t touch the puppets, however. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Terra wave at her, grinning. Twilight teleported back to Luna’s side, and each of them brandished their blades at the oncoming puppets.

It was a short fight, if it could even be called that. Twilight was, for all intents and purposes, an alicorn without alicorn magic. The puppets threw themselves at Nadir and Equinox without abandon. Twilight could swing her blade faster than they could come at her. Twilight could kill them by the hundreds. It was that simple.

As the last tuft of black mist drifted past Twilight’s face, Terra clapped. “Now that’s entertainment,” she said. “I’m wondering why Titan is so bothered about you, Twilight Sparkle. It’s more than just the whole Harmony thing. I think he really hates you. You should feel special; the only other pony Titan hates is Celestia.”

Terra looked down at the statue of Celestia. “Speaking of which,” she said. “Why is this still here?” With a sharp motion of her hoof, she knocked Celestia’s head to the dirt. Terra yawned and stretched before rolling off of the statue and onto the ground. “This is your town, is that right?” she asked Twilight.

Slowly, Twilight nodded.

“Ponyville,” Terra said. She threw her head back. “Ponyville!” she shouted. “What a name for a town! There’s always a Ponyville somewhere, you know. Your incredible pony minds can’t really come up with a much better name.”

She sighed as she looked around at the bodies littering the town square. “And when I’m done with Ponyville,” she said. “I’ll have to go to the next town. Which will be called Saddleland, or Stirrup Holdt, or Hock County, or Muzzle Mound, or whatever. It’s gonna take decades to get just the right amount of you lot dead, and you know what?”

Nearby, the pharmacy roof collapsed, sending flames and sparks billowing into the sky. Terra spat. “I’m bored already!” she shouted. She began to pace. “I mean, what’s the point of killing somepony you don’t even know?” Her horn glowed, and a nearby corpse was pulled off the ground to hang lifelessly in the air. “Look at this mare,” Terra said. “Do you know who she is?” she asked Luna. “How about you, Twilight?” Terra shrugged. “I don’t know who she is. Where’s the fun in stabbing her through the heart if I don’t know anything about her?”

Twilight could hear her heart beating in her ears. “I mean,” Terra said. “This poor mare went through life with a bunch of candy on her ass. What did she do? Eat candy? Make candy? Build castles out of candy?” Terra chuckled. “What is it like,” she said. “To find out just as you enter marehood: your existence is candy. You will live your life for candy. Validation will come to you through candy. Now live your meaningless life and then die.”

The corpse fell out of the air. “But that’s all of you, isn’t it?” Terra said. “Live your meaningless life and then die. Every single one of you is just crushed under the weight of your own insignificance. You’re all the same. All exactly the same. There’s only one difference between you and my puppets.”

Twilight held her tongue. The more Terra ran her mouth, the longer the others would have to evacuate.

“It’s hard-coded into every living pony,” Terra said. “And it makes you all such a massive pain. Survival. I can tell all my puppets to throw themselves on your blades, and they’ll happily oblige. But Ponykind? Oh no.”

Terra shook her head. “You wake every morning to slowly die for another day and it whispers for you to go on. ‘Survive,’ it says, as you look in the mirror at your greying mane. Your crops wilt and wither until your only way to live through the winter is to kill your neighbor and take his crops. ‘Survive,’ it commands, as your forelegs close around his throat.”

Terra’s horn flashed, and the headless statue of Celestia was blown to bits and strewn about the square. The Queen leapt up onto the empty pedestal. “Your god!” she screamed. “Descends from the heavens and demands your blood as atonement for your sins! ‘Survive!’ it screams, as you run oh so slowly away.” She swept her horn in an arc, and several more buildings in the square burst into flames. “You watch as every living being you know and every object you cherish is destroyed! ‘Survive,’ it whimpers, as your sanity slips away!”

Terra shot into the air and laughed as she did a backflip. “That’s why you have to die,” she said. “Because you have to survive.”

“No,” Twilight said. She ground one of her hooves into the ground. “That’s why you have to die. So that we survive.”

Terra threw her head back and laughed. It was a laugh that sounded like it was rehearsed. “This,” she said. “This is what makes the job so enjoyable. Sometimes it helps to sing a happy tune as I slaughter you, or even make a game out of it. But nothing will ever brighten my day more than the heroes. The champions so filled with hope. Hope,” Terra said, her face splitting into a grin as though she had just told a joke. “Survive has its uses, but hope has none. It’s a wonder it was ever part of your design.”

“Hope,” Luna said, her wings flared. “Is not useless.”

“Is that so?” Terra asked. “I haven’t forgotten about you, Luna. You betrayed me and locked me beneath my own firmament. I owe you quite a bit of suffering.”

“Yes,” Luna said. “You missed out on over a millenia of hiding from Titan while ponies make war. I shudder to think of how disappointing that was.”

Terra ran a hoof through her flowing mane. “Ah,” she said. “Trying to get me to talk about my husband, or the past? You’ve always been so much more clever than you act, Luna. Being able to use others despite your utter lack of charisma always made me like you more than Celestia. Sadly, I’m going to have to decline your offer. I’ve been reminiscing too much, lately.”

Terra rolled her shoulders. “The two of you have provided an excellent distraction,” she said. “And believe me, I do like being distracted. But Titan wants you, Twilight Sparkle, and I want you, Luna, and when you’re an alicorn as old as I am and you want something, you just go right ahead and take it.”

Luna dipped her head in a tiny nod. “So what are you waiting for?”

Terra’s joking grin returned. “That. Question. Exactly.”

Terra crossed the distance between them faster than Twilight could see. Luna threw herself into a roll as soon as Terra started moving, but she was too slow compared to the Queen. Terra’s foreleg came down on Luna with a sound that more closely resembled a hammer striking a rock than a hoof striking flesh. The blow sent Luna crumpling to the ground.

Terra bent over Luna. “Do you hear it, Twilight Sparkle?” she said. Luna tried to stand, and Terra beat her back into the ground with another sickening crunch. “Surely it has something to say after watching me crush your Princess.”

Wrapping two hooves around Luna’s neck, Terra dragged her daughter to the center of the square. “Even if you are a reasonable creature, it will still have something to say.” Terra heaved Luna into the air and brought her down onto the empty stone pedestal. Cracks appeared where Luna connected. The princess’s eyes were half open, looking around, dazed.

“Survive!” Terra screamed. She brought a hoof across Luna’s cheek, pulverizing her face and tearing away skin that splattered across the dirt. “It begs you to run and hide, because now you realize that against me there can be no victory! And slowly it saps the strength out of your legs until you can hardly stand.”

Terra spun to face Twilight. “Run,” she said. “Run and hide.”

The town hall was still intact. Twilight teleported onto its roof and did her best to keep down.

“Aha!” Terra laughed. “Looks like your little friend isn’t so special after all, Luna.” She threw her head back. “I’ll be seeing you again, Twilight Sparkle!” she shouted to nopony in particular. “But I’m in no hurry,” she said, looking down at Luna. “And you and I have some catching up to do, don’t we?”

Luna spat on her.

Twilight watched them and felt her skin begin to creep. She realized she wasn’t going to get a better chance than this one. She’d said she could hurt Terra; now it was time to deliver.

She teleported two blocks to the village supermarket. From the outside, it appeared to be abandoned. Thankfully, there were no bodies, no puppets, and no signs of her friends. Twilight had seen enough corpses for one day.

Twilight ran through the little metal revolving door made for shopping carts and past the fruits and vegetables section. She stopped in front of the cereal aisle and looked around at the store. She needed materials. Iron. She needed iron.

Her horn glowed as she caused the space above her head to function as a magnet. At first, nothing happened, but as Twilight fed the spell more fuel, it began to attract. A tiny can was pulled out of an abandoned shopping cart and dragged across the floor. Twilight erected a shield, and the can bounced up the surface of the purple barrier. When it got to the point above Twilight’s head, it was folded into a pocket of null-space.

Twilight fed her spell more power, and soon the shopping cart followed the can. It was followed by more carts, hundreds of cans. Soon entire shelves were dragged into her null-space and rivets tore their way out of the walls. Everything metal in the store was pulled, and quite a few non-metals were pulled with them.

She stood at the heart of a maelstrom of steel until the supermarket collapsed around her. Twilight decided that she had collected enough materials—in any case, her null-space couldn’t hold much more. She teleported back to the roof of the town square, but not before casting a spell to silence the space around her. It would not do to be detected, and she was about to be very noisy.

Luna was still pinned to the pedestal. Terra stood over her, a strip of skin hanging from her mouth. Twilight wondered exactly how she was supposed to hit Terra without outright killing Luna. Precision would be a difficult thing to manage, but not impossible.

First step: Twilight created a spell to identify iron, and only iron, then sent it through a portion of her null-space. It would have been an impossible thing to do, if iron were not a basic substance. Rather than map every individual iron quanta, which would be impossible, her spell returned to her a magical array of the metal’s distinct signature.

Second step: Twilight phased a portion of the iron into an all new, much smaller part of null-space. For another unicorn, separating all the iron out of a can of tomato paste would have also been impossible. For Twilight, it was a simple matter of telling all quanta of iron’s previously determined signature to teleport over there.

There in this case happened to be a pocket dimension. Once Twilight had finished transferring a portion of the metal, the extra null-space contained only pure iron. She ceased working with her first null-space, focusing entirely on the second.

Third step: Twilight modified the null-space, using even more of her spatial manipulation magic. First, she tied the space together at both ends. If it were a hallway, walking from the beginning to the end would place a pony at the beginning once more. Twilight had created an infinite space.

Fourth step: Heat. Twilight pulled heat energy from the air around her, above her, beneath her. She poured more and more of it into her pocket space, where its only point of refuge was the iron. She used her own magic, as well, casting a very powerful, very simple spell to convert unicorn magic into heat.

Frost clung to her coat by the time Twilight was satisfied with the internal temperature of her iron dimension. She couldn’t remember the exact boiling point of iron—it was somewhere just shy of three thousand celsius, or five thousand farenheit. Hers was well past that temperature by now.

Terra still stood with her back to Twilight, looking down at the helpless Luna. Just hang in there, Princess. Almost done.

Fifth step: gravity. Twilight ceased adding heat to the system and instead opened it to the curve of space generated by the planet beneath her. The superheated iron began to fall, but Twilight’s space was infinite. The iron fell forever, in a system with no terminal velocity. Twilight used a spell to amplify the gravity and increase the iron’s rate of acceleration. Luna would appreciate the faster delivery.

Sixth, final step: weaponize. Twilight closed her system off to the planet’s gravity once the iron was moving at an appreciable fraction of the speed of light.

Twilight took all the gravity away from the town square. Weightlessness engulfed her, Luna, and Terra. Specks of dirt, drops of blood, and burning fragments of Celestia’s statue drifted in the air. The fires that were left stopped burning upwards. Too late, Terra looked up.

Twilight took all of the gravity from the square and focused it into a single, needle thin channel between herself and the Queen. She cast a spell to shield her from heat and light. She pushed all of the air out of her channel. Nature, she thought. Meet science.

She dropped her sound spell and siphoned the iron into the gravity channel.

Twilight’s stream was less than a millimetre thick of compressed, superheated iron. The pure white beam of light that flared into existence between her and Terra was as thick as her hoof. It hissed, a sound that was so loud it was a tearing scream. Twilight didn’t care if Terra was almost a thousand years old. Nothing could withstand superheavy boiling iron travelling so fast.

The beam punched a hole through Terra’s midsection, cutting her in two just above the hind legs. It slammed Terra to the ground. She burst into flames from convection; and so did the ground around her for ten paces, including Luna. The beam didn’t stop with Terra. Dirt in its path became glass. Bedrock beneath the dirt became slag. All the while, the roaring scream of the weapon filled Twilight’s ears.

The power to destroy.

Terra beat her tattered and flaming wings and managed to drag herself across the square. Twilight swung the beam towards her, and it cut a swath into the ground as it travelled. The beam died just before it reached the Queen, leaving a strange silence in its wake. Twilight had run out of iron.

The air around Twilight was filled with garbage as she ejected several hundred pounds of non-iron debris. Tomato paste, paint, bits of wood and plastic all arced down towards the ground.

Twilight teleported directly in front of the Queen and drew Equinox. Her nostrils were filled with the smell of cooked flesh. Terra still hadn’t healed her hind legs. Twilight swung her blade at Terra, and Terra met it in the air with a foreleg.

“What about you,” Twilight said as Equinox burned against Terra’s leg. Terra’s flesh was beginning to heal, and in some places Twilight could even see skin. “Do you hear it?” Terra’s leg began to tremble as Twilight threw more and more power into her blade. “Survive.”

As Terra’s lips filled in, Twilight saw that she was grinning. “I hear it, Twilight Sparkle. But do you!” She punched Twilight in the chest with her other hoof.

Every one of Twilight’s ribs broke. Twilight was pushed through the air and into an intact building—her mental map of the square told her that this was the horseshoe shop. Indeed, she thought as she found herself pinned to the wall, a wooden shoe-hanging rod sticking out of her stomach: this was definitely the horseshoe shop. There, lying by the door with a hole in his neck, was Shoe Fits, its proprietor. It was funny: Twilight hadn’t even felt the door shattering behind her as she flew through it.

Terra grabbed her hindquarters with unicorn magic and took flight as soon as Twilight was through the building. Twilight watched her go, then split her mind, allowing Sparkle to work without pain. Sparkle tore the wooden rod out of their chest and teleported them back into the center of the square, next to Luna.

Twilight simply collapsed to the ground and waited for her chest to heal. She had a hole through her stomach and her ribcage felt more like a sack of gravel than a bone structure. Put me back together, she silently begged her earthpony magic. This is agony.

I can’t sense Terra, Sparkle said to her as the fragments of her ribcage pinched themselves back together. Twilight heard a pop from one of her hind legs, and realized that it must have been broken, too. Her insides twisted as her flesh reknit.

At last Sparkle stood them up and looked at Luna. The princess was smoking and mostly hairless, but still conscious. Her eyes were shut. “Princess,” Sparkle made them say as their ribs began to take on a distinct shape.

Luna gulped in air and opened her eyes. “Was that... all unicorn magic?”

Twilight finished healing and drew Sparkle back into the whole. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah it was.”

Luna rolled off of the pedestal, stumbled, then caught her balance by leaning against it with a foreleg. “I am glad, Twilight Sparkle,” she said, “that Nihilus was an idiot.” Her hair began to grow in.

Twilight thought back to their fight in the square almost two months ago. “Yeah,” she said. “Me too.”

Terra landed so hard that her hooves sent dirt shooting upward into the air around her. Twilight froze.

“Harmony,” Terra said, “seems to have more in store than I had previously thought. You are special, aren’t you, Twilight Sparkle?”

“You can get away,” Luna said. “Go. You are vital; I am not.”

“Yes,” Terra said, gesturing to the town square with a hoof. “You probably can get away. You are a Coruscare, after all. But I very much doubt Luna has arranged her protective field in such a way as to let you throw her about. So go, Twilight Sparkle. Leave Luna with me. Survive.”

Twilight looked over at Luna. No pony is worth anything less. “No,” she said. “I figure one more hit with my mass accelerator and you’ll die. Sure you don’t want to limp back to your husband?”

Terra rolled her eyes. “That’s the problem with you Coruscares,” she said. “You all think you’re gods.” Terra’s horn flashed, and Twilight felt the bottom drop out of her stomach as she realized what spell Terra had cast. It was the same spell that Titan had used. It stopped her from teleporting.

“Too late!” Terra cried, practically bouncing. “Now I get to take you both home. Honestly, you think I don’t know how to handle a coruscarim?”

Terra sped across the distance between them faster than Twilight’s eyes could follow. A green shaft of light split the air as she skidded to a halt in the dirt beside Luna. Exogenesis. Luna had said that Terra’s blade was called Exogenesis. Twilight knew that Luna could barely stand.

Equinox met Exogenesis, flickered, and died. Terra drew a hoof across Twilight’s face, shattering her cheekbone and sending her sprawling to the ground. Twilight struggled to spit dirt out of her mouth around the fragments of bone and her swollen tongue, but to no avail. It didn’t matter; she needed to focus. With a throw of her shoulder, she spun on the ground to face Luna and Terra once more.

When she saw Luna, the princess’s legs had been sheared off past the knee. Luna’s face was an angry grimace, and her bloodied stumps beat uselessly at the ground.

Terra smiled down at Twilight. Her horn glowed, and Twilight heard a deafening snap as a support beam was ripped away from a nearby building. The shop collapsed into the square.

“This,” Terra said as she snapped the beam in two. “Is going in you. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” She smiled as she saw Twilight gulp. “You want to be a god, child? Let me teach you what it is to be an alicorn.”

Twilight was leaping out of the way before Terra started moving, but it made no difference. Terra kicked Twilight, and she felt her side explode. Organs stuttered and bones splintered. The sudden shock of pain struck her mind like a hammer blow.

Twilight collided with the wall of town hall. Her head snapped back into the finished wood, and she felt her skull fracture as something squished. Strangely, she did not fall back to the ground. It was only after her skull had regenerated that she looked down to see the support beam Terra had collected earlier sticking out of her belly. It was odd; she hadn’t even felt it go in.

She felt it now. It was pushing her insides away from where they were supposed to be. She felt the fragments of one of her hips cutting their way through her as they struggled back to their original position.

Terra landed in front of her and pushed against Twilight’s forehead with a hoof, holding her mane back and pressing the back of her skull into the wall. “This,” Terra hissed. “This is what immortality is, Coruscare. It’s pain. It’s living with every mistake and every sin for eternity. You want to be a god, little girl? You need look no further than the blood running out of the corners of your mouth. Divinity is agony.”

“Let her go!”

No, Twilight thought. You were supposed to leave.

Terra raised an eyebrow and spun to face the new arrival. It was Applejack, covered hoof to chops in her armor. Twilight opened her mouth to tell Applejack to run, and found she couldn’t speak. She shook her head at the mare, trying to warn her. Run.

Terra collided with Applejack head-on, throwing Applejack onto her back and pinning her to the ground. Applejack struggled against Terra’s pin, trying to get free. She failed.

“Do you feel that!” Terra shouted. “Tell me, earthpony, have you ever felt too weak before? It won’t last long,” she said, pushing Applejack’s legs down into the dirt. Bones snapped under the force of Terra’s hold. “The problem is that you’re mortal. But I!” Terra shrieked. “I will make you divine!”

Terra called up fire. Twilight sobbed. Applejack screamed.

The broken beam was pulled free from the wall, encased in the light blue glow of Rarity’s magic. “Twilight!” Rarity said as she came around the edge of the building. She winced at the sound of Applejack’s screaming. “Do something!” Her eyes were wide.

The hole in Twilight’s chest was beginning to close. Do something. She couldn’t teleport because of Terra’s spell. So undo Terra’s spell. But she couldn’t focus enough to do that. So split your mind. Split her mind. Right.

A thundercrack filled the town square. Twilight knew without looking that Rainbow Dash was trying to save Applejack. Twilight turned to Terra.

The combination of Dash’s thunderbolt and the speed of their collision was enough to knock Terra to the ground. Dash raised her blade. Applejack twisted and writhed on the ground as smoke poured through the cracks in her armor.

Terra’s hoof came towards Rainbow Dash, a blur of motion. Dash had no earthpony magic to mend shattered bones. Twilight shielded her on instinct, throwing every ounce of magical power she could muster into the barrier.

She might as well have tried to stop a train with a pane of glass. Her shield shattered, absorbing some of the power behind Terra’s strike. Not enough to keep Dash from getting sent flying through the air, however. Dash hit the ground with a dull thud. She shuddered once before falling still.

Terra cocked her head. “What are you doing, pegasus pony? Are you broken? You’re programmed with one rule to override all others: survive.”

Twilight stumbled to her feet. She had to get them out. She had to get them all out. With a small effort of will, she drew most of the heat out of Applejack’s armor. With a larger effort of will, she suppressed the urge to vomit at the thought of what Applejack had just gone through.

She was running out of magic. Even if she could disable Terra’s spell, Twilight wondered if she’d have enough power to teleport them all away.

“And yet,” Terra said as she came to stand over Dash’s face-down form. “You come at me. It must be a failure of intellect. You ponies don’t seem to understand that you can no more fight me than you can stop your own heartbeats.”

Dash trembled again and pushed herself off the ground with her forelegs. Her face was streaked with dirt and blood. “Wrong,” she said.

“Yoohoo!”

Twilight knew that it was Pinkie Pie before the mare ever spoke. Which meant that Fluttershy was also nearby, somewhere. All of them. They were all coming to Terra. They were all coming for her. And Luna. And each other.

Terra spun around with her lightning quickness. “Another earthpony joins the party!” she cried. “I can hardly believe it! What’s your name, earthpony?”

“Hi.” Pinkie Pie undid the straps holding her hoof-blades and let them fall to the ground. “I’m Pinkie Pie,” she said. “And it’s not a party until I say it is.”

Terra placed a hoof on the back of Rainbow Dash’s head and pushed it into the ground. “You’re not getting up, right?” She asked. “Excuse me while I kill your friend Pinkie Pie as you lie helpless in the dirt.” She threw herself backwards with her unnatural speed, aiming another hoof at Pinkie Pie as she flew through the air.

She missed. Pinkie Pie had dodged the blow before Terra had started to move. Again, Terra moved to attack her, and again, Pinkie Pie moved out of the way before the strike had ever been thrown.

The second time, Pinkie Pie’s mane etherealized. The tangled strands of pink hair merged together to form a churning mass of ether. Pinkie Pie tilted her head as her energy mane framed her face.

Twilight reached out with her magic and tried to sense the spell that Terra had used to stop her from teleporting. It was there, alright. The composition of the spell was unmistakably Titan’s style. It would take time and focus to undo. Twilight went to work with her magic.

Terra drew away from Pinkie Pie as though she had lain a hoof on a hot stove. “No,” she said. “That’s impossible. I killed you.”

“No you didn’t,” Pinkie Pie said. “I’m still alive. See?”

“No,” Terra said, stepping back. “No!”

“Don’t be silly,” Pinkie Pie said. “If something happens, that makes it possible.”

Terra drew Exogenesis and swung it at Pinkie Pie. Its motion was a green blur. Twilight didn’t see Pinkie move at all. One moment she was in the path of the blade, the next she was clear of it.

“Honk!” Pinkie cried as her hooves closed around Terra’s nose.

Terra swung her blade again and again, and each time Pinkie Pie evaded it before she could have seen the attack coming, and with speed that defied physics. Twilight didn’t understand: The Pinkie Sense wasn’t supposed to be that fast, and neither was Pinkie Pie.

“You,” Terra said at last. “Your race is dead. I killed you to a pony.”

Twilight lost her focus, and the spells she had been crafting fell to pieces in her mind. Pinkie Pie wasn’t an earthpony. No horn, no wings, but Pinkie Pie wasn’t an earthpony. What did that make her?

Terra sneered. “Do you think you’re clever, arcpony? You can see the future. Tell me, what’s about to happen?” Pinkie Pie’s eyes widened.

She swept Exogenesis in an arc, and a wave of kinetic force followed it. It threw Pinkie Pie up and back. Pinkie landed in the skeletal remains of a building that had burned to the ground.

Terra shuddered as she ran a hoof through her mane. “Break is over,” she said. “Time to get back to work.” She spun to face Twilight across the square. Her face was completely devoid of mirth.

Immediately, Twilight’s brain reeled. Terra was going to come at her. Terra was going to kill her. Something needed to be done; but what? She was too slow to move out of the way. A strike from Exogenesis would be too much for her to regenerate. Her unicorn magic couldn’t shield Terra’s hoof, let alone her blade. Survive, her mind screamed. But she was going to die.

Terra flapped her wings and came towards Twilight Sparkle. She collided with a golden barrier and was sent reeling. The barrier faded as Terra spat blood into the dirt.

Celestia fell out of the sky like boulder, striking the ground in front of Twilight with a heavy thud. She pushed herself to her hooves, stumbled, then caught her footing. Twilight looked at the princess with horror. Black veins stood out along her legs and neck, thick and pulsing. Her mane hung at the sides of her head as mundane pink hair. She was covered in sweat.

“Twilight,” Celestia said. Her horn glowed, and Twilight felt the oppressive presence of Terra’s spell fade. “Run.”

Terra’s eyes locked onto Celestia. “You can’t be serious,” she said.

Exogenesis met Zenith, and Celestia shrank beneath their blades. “What is it!” Terra shouted. “That makes you all so eager to die?” The veins along Celestia’s legs spread and throbbed, and Celestia let out a sharp cry. “What makes you all ignore your most basic instinct?”

Zenith went out. Celestia fell backwards into the dirt, a trickle of black ichor running out of the corner of her mouth. “Twilight,” she whispered.

Terra raised Exogenesis and grinned. “Survive!” she shrieked. Terra plunged the blade into Celestia’s chest. Celestia jerked once, then went still.

Fourteen diamonds sped toward Terra. She batted them out of the air with such force that they tore into the building around them. “What is it!” Terra shouted again. She leveled Exogenesis at Twilight and Rarity.

Twilight teleported them to the other end of the square just as Terra unleashed her spell. A deafening crack reached her ears. The town hall was blown to smithereens by the blast, and fragments of wood rained down on them.

Terra went for Rainbow Dash, but Twilight grabbed her first. With a pop, Dash appeared in the air beside them and fell to the ground. She rolled over, clutching her belly.

“What makes you defy your very design?” Terra shrieked. She sent a wave of fire towards where Applejack lay on the ground. Twilight plucked Applejack out of space and set her next to the rest of them. “What,” Terra said, “could possibly be more important to you ponies than survival?”

“Friendship,” said Fluttershy.

Twilight had known that Fluttershy was behind them before she spoke the words. Fluttershy held her wings stiff, gliding off of the top of a nearby roof to land next to them. She began to help Applejack to her hooves.

Terra stared at them as though they’d just told a joke she didn’t get. “Friendship?” she said. “You’ll die for friendship?”

Pinkie Pie cartwheeled over and picked Rainbow Dash up off the ground. At her throat, the balloon gem gleamed, bright and blue in the summer sunlight.

Terra grinned. “I have more power than all of you combined. Against me you have nothing,” she said. “No weapons. No magic.” She beat her wings and became a blur of motion once more. She swung her blade at Twilight’s head as if it were an axe.

Exogenesis met Equinox.

Twilight’s blade burned so bright her friends had to cover their eyes. Her protective spell was up, however, and she could clearly see the look of confusion on Terra’s face. She pressed Equinox forward, channeling the Elements of Harmony through their focus.

A horizontal ring of light burst outward from where their blades met. It sheared through the bottom of every building still standing in the town square, and they all fell to ruins.

Exogenesis guttered out and died, and a wave of brilliant violet magic engulfed the queen. Twilight stepped forward as her mane etherealized.

“No!” Terra said. She beat her wings, but the magic held her to the ground. Terra thrashed and kicked, but to no avail. “That’s impossible.”

Twilight looked down at the Queen of the world. “Hadn’t you heard?” she said. “Friendship is magic.”

-

The antepenultimate chapter of The Immortal Game, Don’t Leave Me Alone, will be linked Wednesday, May 16th

Don't Leave Me Alone

Don’t Leave Me Alone

The air tasted like ashes on Luna’s tongue. Her eyes were dry and her lips cracked. She lay atop a stone pedestal at the center of the Ponyville town square. Or at least, what used to be the town square. Terra had turned it into a level field of smoldering ruins and bodies.

Luna had been at death’s door. Terra had made sure of that. She lay in a pool of her own dried blood, helpless and weak, with barely enough earthpony magic to keep her alive. Certainly not enough to fight with.

Twilight had come back for her. No pony was worth anything less, indeed. It was a shame that Terra had sliced off Luna’s legs—she would have liked to see how things turned out. She’d lost focus just after Twilight rescued her with...

What had Twilight rescued her with? The beam of light that tore Terra in half had to have been stronger than even Celestia’s most powerful war spell. The kind of magic that would be needed to fuel such a weapon—what kind of spell had Twilight created? That Twilight had come back for her in the first place was a surprise in itself.

Although perhaps Luna should not have been surprised. It had been almost trivially easy for Luna to get Twilight and her friends to Ponyville. After spending so much time with them, Luna wasn’t surprised in the least at how willing they were to dive into almost certain death. They were heroes, after all.

Heroes who possessed the most powerful weapon in Equestrian history. A weapon that reacted only to acts of companionship and self-sacrifice. Putting Twilight and her friends in the field of battle, together, had been the entirety of Luna’s plan. Unlike Celestia, the finer details never concerned her. Twilight and her friends would reactivate the Elements against Terra, or they would all die and Titan would win. It had unfortunately been that simple.

“Luna!”

Luna let a quiet groan escape her lips. Had she passed out after Terra chopped off her legs? Was she that close to dying?

“Luna!”

The voice calling her name was both urgent and familiar. Applejack? Everything felt so hazy and dreamlike. Wasn’t she supposed to be doing something?

Applejack’s armored hoof slapped Luna across the face. The metallic taste of her own blood shocked her into wakefulness. “What....”

“Luna!” Applejack screamed. “Get up! We need you now!”

Luna’s eyes shot open, revealing a stretch of charred dirt. Her necklace lay in front of her, snapped in two. Terra must have broken it during their fight, but Luna didn’t remember that happening.

“Did we... win?” she asked. Why was Applejack in the square anyway? Did she come back for Twilight? Had that been enough?

Applejack grabbed Luna with her forelegs and tried to haul the Princess to her hooves. “Luna!” she shouted again.

Luna stumbled before falling back to the ground. Her legs had grown back, but the new limbs felt strange after she’d spent so much time on the ground without them. Had they always been so long?

Applejack kicked Luna in the side after she fell back to the ground, prompting a grunt. “If you don’t help us,” Applejack said. “Celestia is going to die.”

“What?” Luna scrambled to her hooves and looked down at Applejack. The Element of Honesty was a bright orange gem at her throat. It seemed Twilight and her friends had it in them, after all.

Twilight’s voice snapped through the air. “She’s disoriented from the transfer. Bring her over here.”

Transfer. Celestia. Disoriented. The last one was certainly true, Luna thought as Applejack reached up and put a hoof around her neck. Applejack dragged Luna’s head to one side so that she could see Twilight.

Twilight was standing over Celestia with her eyes closed, her horn aglow, and tears running down her face. Celestia lay in the dirt, unmoving. Her coat was stained with blood. Celestia is going to die, Applejack had said.

Luna looked at them, uncomprehending. “She’s in Canterlot,” Luna said. “Celestia can’t be here. She’s in Canterlot.”

Twilight opened her eyes. The area around them was puffy and red. “She saved me,” Twilight said. She looked down at the unmoving princess. “She saved all of us.” Her gaze snapped back to Luna. “She’s slipping away. I’m going to use your earthpony magic to heal her. Applejack and I are too weak.”

“My magic?” Luna asked. “I don’t have enough.” Luna hadn’t even thought she’d have enough left to heal her legs; how could she possibly have enough to give to Celestia?”

Luna caught sight of what appeared to be an earthpony lying on the ground behind Twilight. Green coat. Wavy yellow mane. The Heart of Thorns emblazoned on her flank.

Luna’s necklace had broken off of her neck. She’d had to look down at Applejack. She no longer tasted blood in her mouth.

“Princess,” Twilight said. “Look at yourself.”

The world snapped into focus around Luna, and the situation revealed itself to her with a freezing clarity. She looked down at her legs. They had grown longer, elevating her to her sister’s height. She spread her wings, voluminous, midnight blue, and pointed at their ends. A strand of her mane fell over her eyes, a cool evening breeze across her face.

“I’ve given you Terra’s power, Princess,” Twilight said. “And right now I need a bit of it back. Understand?”

Luna nodded. “Do it.”

Twilight’s horn began to glow even brighter, a single point of light blocking the rest of the square from view. “Don’t fight this,” she said.

Having her magic taken away felt like having teeth pulled—and as an alicorn, the only time Luna had gotten teeth pulled was when she displeased her mother. Twilight’s spell wrenched at her chest and made her feel sick to her stomach. Luna endured, however: she was no stranger to pain or discomfort.

“There,” Twilight said, her horn growing dim.

Luna cocked her head to one side. “That was all?”

Twilight nodded. “I was taking some power,” she said. “Not the magic itself.”

Luna looked down at her sister. Celestia’s mane was a limp, pink mass of hair. Dark veins snaked along her legs, barely visible under her alabaster coat. The blood that Luna had seen earlier was drying in thick black clumps of hair. Celestia’s chest rose a fraction of an inch. “Will she be all right?” Luna asked.

“I think so,” Twilight said. “There’s something wrong with her. Whatever Titan did, it’s choking off her magic. She isn’t even healing properly. We’ll have to give her hourly doses of yours if we want to keep her alive.”

Luna nodded as Twilight spoke, eyes still fixed on the slow rising and falling of Celestia’s chest. Just one more thing she owed to Twilight Sparkle. “I’ll do whatever it takes,” Luna said.

Twilight sighed and leaned back in the dirt, rubbing her temple with a hoof. “What about you?” she asked. “How do you feel?”

Like a god, Luna thought. She held the power of a millenium now. She was as strong as Celestia. She’d look down on every pony in the kingdom. Smash a building to ruins using only her mind—or, if it pleased her, her bare hooves. She could fly at the speed of sound, or walk through fire unscathed.

Luna recalled how Nightmare Moon had revelled in the power to destroy. Luna had that power now, too. But did she deserve it?

“Taller,” Luna said. It was true, after all. “Why give this to me, Twilight Sparkle?”

Twilight frowned. “You’re the only pony I could have done it to, Luna. Earthponies aren’t receptive to pegasus or unicorn magic. The same goes for the other races. If it worked that way, I’d be able to use Applejack to heal any pony’s wounds almost instantly.”

“That makes no sense,” Luna said. “You’re a unicorn. I watched you fly here.”

“It must be the Elements of Harmony,” Twilight said. “It wouldn’t be the first rule they’ve broken. Or maybe it is possible to transfer non-native magic to a pony, but I just don’t know how yet. To my knowledge, transferring power shouldn’t even be possible in the first place.”

“Indeed,” Luna said. “But you still have not told me why you elected to make me a god instead of you.”

Twilight looked at her as though she had suggested Twilight cut off her horn and eat it. “You are a god, Princess. I’m just a pony.”

Rainbow Dash beckoned them to Terra’s side. “You two. She’s waking up.”

Both Luna and Twilight looked to the green pony stirring on the ground. “Terra,” Twilight said.

Luna strode over to where Terra lay, and Twilight followed. Terra’s crown was askew, and her mane was now mundane, tangled and snarled. A sheen of cold sweat coated her face, and dirt stuck to her cheek from where it had touched the ground.

Terra lifted a hoof to the dirt on her face. She looked up at them all, her expression blank, then adjusted her crown with her forelegs. When she looked down at herself, a shuddering breath pushed its way through her lips. She shut her eyes.

“I suppose,” Terra said, “that now we get to find out just how heroic ponykind’s champions really are. The most painless way to do it would be to stop my brain. Themost painful? Well I imagine Luna has plenty of suggestions.”

Luna glared down at her mother. “I owe you more suffering than any one pony can feel, Terra. But your pain doesn’t interest me any longer.”

Terra barked out a humorless laugh. “I take it Celestia will live, then. A shame.”

“Terra,” Twilight said. “I have a couple of questions for you.”

“Twilight Sparkle,” Terra said. “I am powerless and awaiting death, but I am still your enemy. The only way you’ll get answers from me is through torture. I’ve said before that every pony has their breaking point; I wonder if the same is true for even me.”

Twilight didn’t acknowledge that Terra had spoken. “What do you know about the Elements of Harmony?”

Terra scoffed. “Only that they’ll be useless against the King.”

“Lie,” Applejack growled. Terra rolled her eyes.

Twilight lifted Terra into the air with telekinesis and held her upside down by a hind leg. Their eyes met, level with one another.. “I will give you one last chance, Terra. What do you know about the Elements of Harmony?”

Terra spat in Twilight’s face. It struck Twilight in the eye and dribbled down her muzzle before Twilight wiped it off with her hoof. “I see,” she said. “Any information you will give us will be unreliable.”

Terra looked over at Luna. “Is she serious?” she said, jerking her head toward Twilight. “No,” she said to Twilight, “I’m not going to give you information. Why in Equestria would I ever give you information? Have ponies gotten so much more stupid in the past thousand years that you are their saviour?”

Twilight closed her eyes and pulled a long, quiet breath through her nostrils. “There are exactly twelve dead ponies in this square, Terra. And you killed every one of them.”

Terra opened her mouth to speak, and Luna watched as Twilight jammed it shut with her magic. “Murderer,” Twilight said. “You have no idea what I can do to you. I could make you smile as you lick the dirt from my hooves, kiddo.”

Rainbow Dash forced herself into the space between Twilight and Terra so quickly that Luna doubted any other pony had seen her move. Dash said nothing, staring Twilight in the face with a look that spoke violence.

Twilight looked away. “I...” She swallowed.

Rainbow Dash spoke a single word that was barely a breath. “No.”

Twilight nodded. “Her memories,” she whispered. “We can’t be sure of getting the whole truth any other way. I need her memories.”

Luna watched Terra. Twilight was still holding her mouth shut, but Terra’s eyes were no longer amused, or even angry. They were flitting from Rainbow Dash to Twilight, wide and frantic.

Rainbow Dash ran a hoof through her mane. “Okay,” she said. “As long as you don’t—”

“I won’t, Rainbow Dash. I couldn’t. Not even with her.”

Dash nodded once and stepped aside.

Terra fell to the ground as Twilight released her. She scrambled backwards. “You can’t,” she said. “Not without my consent. You can’t!”

Twilight telekinetically plucked the crown off of Terra’s head and tossed it away. “No!” Terra cried, clutching vainly at the air it had occupied just moments before. “That’s mine!”

Twilight eyed the Queen, her face expressionless. “You don’t want to watch this, Rainbow Dash.”

Dash grunted. “I don’t care about her,” she said. “Just you.”

A black mote began to gather at the tip of Twilight’s horn. Terra’s eyes shot to the tiny point of darkness, and her pupils narrowed. “No,” she said. “You can’t force me. That’s not how magic works. Only alicorns can—”

Twilight threw herself onto the Queen with pegasus speed and pinned Terra’s forelegs into the dirt with earthpony strength. “I’m special,” Twilight said in a voice devoid of any emotion.

“No!” Terra beat her hind legs against the ground, helpless. “Don’t touch me! Get off me!” Tears glistened on her face as Twilight began to lower her horn. “I’ll tell you!” she shrieked. “I’ll tell you everything! Pinkie Pie is an arcpony! Don’t you want to know what that is?”

“I will know,” Twilight whispered. Luna looked on, horrified. What could possibly have Terra so desperate and afraid?

Terra’s head was pressed into the dirt as she thrashed beneath Twilight. “Please,” she whimpered. “Please please please...”

Twilight’s horn touched her forehead. Terra’s face went slack, and her eyes glowed purple for several seconds as Twilight’s magic took root within her. The glowing ceased abruptly, and Terra went limp. She screwed her eyes shut and whimpered, wrapping her forelegs around herself.

Twilight recoiled from Terra as though she were still an alicorn. She gasped and staggered back. Rainbow Dash scooped her up into a steadying embrace.

“Twilight?” Dash asked.

Twilight was shaking, and her face had taken on a haunted look. “Titan,” she said. “He... he killed her. Empty sky, Titan killed her.”

Luna stepped forward. “Killed who, Twilight Sparkle? Terra?”

Twilight shook her head, her eyes wide. She looked up at Luna and swallowed.

“His first wife,” Terra said as she held herself in the dirt. “My mother.” She winced, as though speaking the words alone was painful. “Harmony,” she said with tears streaking down her face. “Her name was Harmony.”

The Citadel rose out of the Heart of the Forest, a shining fortress of steel and glass. One could tell just by looking at it that it wasn’t a pony design; there were no straight edges, no right angles. Everything about it was curves and points: from the massive petal-like walls right down to the glowing runes etched over every surface of the metal.

It was massive—far larger even than Castle Alicorn in Equina, the capitol. Even on the proper side of The Boundary, the line around the Heart that no mortal pony could cross, The Citadel could easily be made out at the centre of Terra’s forest. To Terra, it had always looked like a platinum flower—perhaps a lotus. In reality, flowers probably resembled The Citadel. It had come first, after all.

Today The Citadel’s many arms were open, and sunlight reflected off of the metal petal-arms so brightly it hurt her eyes. At the center of her forest, surrounded by vivid green plant life, The Citadel would have appeared unnatural had it not been there all Terra’s life.

With two beats of her wings Terra took to the air and put herself above the treeline, which still fell far below the towering Citadel. She approached the the gleaming edifice, eyes scanning the sigils inscribed along the metal surface. She found the one she was looking for almost instantly: she had, after all, been doing this for almost three hundred years. This was the place of her birth.

Terra ran her hoof across the surface of The Citadel, and a surge of blue light ran through each of the nearby sigils. The metal under her hoof shuddered as if it were a living creature, rippling at her touch. A dozen seams appeared, each meeting at the place she had touched, then radiating outward in an arc. The aperture slid open soundlessly to admit its only operator: her Royal Highness, Princess Terra.

Inside, The Citadel looked much the same as it did from the outside. Each of the petal-walls was open to the sky above, and natural light from the sun outshone the blue glow of the etchings that lined every piece of metal. The petals themselves had no scaffolding or ramparts to walk on; they just gradually angled down to the ground.

Instead of floors or walls, the interior of The Citadel was made up of rings. Each ring was higher up than the last, and each was composed of thousands of tiny metal objects. They were all simple shapes—crescents, fins, circles—and all of them were etched with the same glowing blue light that adorned the petals. They spun in circles around the center of The Citadel, defying gravity.

Terra stepped out into the open air, and the nearest of the metal shapes formed a platform beneath her falling hoof. The light along their etchings grew brighter as she touched them, and as she walked forward the platform began to assemble itself in front of her.

Harmony’s work required space. So much space, in fact, that despite being larger than any structure ponykind had ever made, The Citadel was still a tenth the size it needed to be. It simply couldn’t hold every room and tool that was required. Terra began to ascend The Citadel, walking in a wide spiral along an assembling set of steps.

Harmony had solved the problem with the shards. The pointed, curved plates of metal could assemble to form any room or tool they might need—and they needed many tools. The shards also held the archives, and—supposedly—The Citadel’s defenses.

Not that they’d ever been attacked. As Terra understood it, Discord would have to spend precious minutes breaking through Harmony’s defenses to get inside The Citadel. And if Harmony herself was present, he couldn’t assault it at all.

Which meant that no matter which species Discord rendered extinct, Terra and Harmony would restore it with the blueprint stored in the archive. They could rebuild it, given time. Discord could do no damage to their world that they could not undo.

It also meant that Harmony could never leave The Citadel for more than ten minutes at a time, unless Order decided to stay behind and guard in her place. He rarely did.

Terra finished her climb, arriving at the very top ring of The Citadel, situated just below the tips of the petals. She stepped out into thin air once more, and by the time her hoof came down it landed on a small, jagged platform that looked to be a part of a much larger circle. She strode along the circle’s length, the shards behind her falling away as more filled the path before her.

A cool, clear voice, containing only the slight echo of alicorn magic, greeted her as she approached. “I’ve been considering your mark.”

Terra was twenty minutes late, and already she saw exactly where her mother was taking the conversation. They had, after all, been together for over three hundred years.

“The Heart of Thorns,” Terra said.

“Is it?” Harmony’s liquid voice flowed through the entirety of The Citadel. At the very center of the uppermost ring, directly in front of Terra, a translucent pony heart made of blue light appeared, dozens of times larger than Terra.

“You see,” Harmony continued. “The mark on your flank looks nothing like the actual organ used to pump blood through a pony’s body. Rather, your flank is shaped as an abstraction. One used not to represent the organ, but love. Love,” Harmony said, as though she were working through a word puzzle out loud. “Another abstraction. One created by ponykind, no less. A combination of base reproductive instincts and their higher level spark. If ever you want to hear a completely unique idea, Terra, ask a pony to define love. Each of them will give you a different answer, one containing both what they hope to give in a relationship as well as what they hope to receive.”

Terra rolled her eyes and sat. This was probably going to take a while. As exciting as it was to talk to empty air, she’d rather get on with their work.

“So your mark must represent love, but the love that ponykind has invented. Is it love that makes you special, Terra? I think this claim can hardly be refuted; after all, you are Princess Terra. One would be hard pressed to find a creature on this world that both subscribes to this idea of love and does not love you. Your song moves sirens to tears and your beauty plagues nymphs with jealousy. These things were my design but Order’s idea: no mortal race should think itself above us in any aspect.”

Terra propped her head up with a hoof and yawned. Did Harmony intend to explain the entirety of Order’s hierarchy, as well?

“But there is more to it than being loved, isn’t there? You love the creatures of this forest so much your father would find it sick. I, on the other hand, find it endearing. I’ve seen you cringe at the sight of a squirrel in pain. It makes one wonder why it is a heart of thorns, of all things.”

Terra raised an eyebrow. “Love and gentleness are two separate things entirely, Harmony. Rest assured, the thorns are appropriate.”

“Perhaps,” her mother said. “But the fact remains that I have wracked my brain time and time again in consideration of your true talent in this world, and do you know what I have never found, my Terra?”

“A stone so heavy even you can’t lift it?”

Across The Citadel, several shards from the uppermost ring formed a new section of the circular platform. Harmony shimmered into being and gave Terra an arch look. “An excuse,” she said, her voice now coming from only one source. “For your tardiness.”

Like all the alicorns, Harmony was exactly as tall as Terra. There the similarities ended. Her crown was a halo that looked to be made of sunlight shining through a cloud. Her coat was a flawless white. Her hair spun and swirled, a roiling mass of ether as blue as the deep dark ocean. Occasionally a new color would surface around her brow, then drift down to the tip of her mane and vanish.

Terra smiled. “You just aren’t looking hard enough, mother. See, it’s a heart of thorns. Perhaps my purpose is to prick those who love me by being continuously late. I thought that was obvious.”

Harmony did not look amused. “Your father would say that love is not for alicorns, so as to refute your premise and undermine your conclusion.”

Terra scoffed. “I don’t doubt that what he feels for me isn’t love. But what about you, Harmony? How would you refute my claim?”

Harmony began to step around to Terra’s side of the circle. “Ponykind has such interesting views on parenthood. It is not enough that a parent love their child; they must do so unconditionally. The most morally praiseworthy parent is one that expects only two things from their child.”

“I spend more time with them than you,” Terra said. “I know how extreme ponykind is when it comes to their children.” Terra said.

Harmony frowned. “Extreme. Yes. In any case, state your expectations.”

Terra grumbled. “Do I really—”

“Yes.”

Terra sighed, then stood up straight. She began to recite.

“I am expected to understand that while I am an alicorn and a being of free will, my decisions or beliefs will never supercede yours or father’s. Should we ever come to a disagreement, I will do as you say and trust that I will become wise enough to agree with you, in time.

“I am expected to oversee the propagation of life throughout our world. Upon the design of a new species, I will ensure that they grow until they can sustain themselves and take their place in the natural order.

“I am expected to gain the love and adoration of every mortal being. I will use this love to keep them from misdirecting the frustrations Discord brings them onto us. I will at the very least make them believe that I love them in return.

“I am expected to fight Discord’s creechlings whenever necessary. I will not attempt to save them. The corruption will have already taken root.

“I will respect and revere my mother and father, who are both gods above all things. I will disagree with or disobey my father only if his interests conflict with my mother’s. I will never disagree with or disobey my mother.”

“Stop,” Harmony said. Terra did so. “What was that last bit again?”

Terra glared at her. “I will never disagree with or disobey my mother.”

Harmony smiled. “Have I ever told you to come on time, Terra?”

“You have,” Terra said.

Harmony’s smile faded. “Then what could possibly be so important that you failed to come on time?”

“Research,” Terra said. “I was doing research.”

Harmony frowned. “Research outside The Citadel? As in with books?” Harmony had always found it odd that ponykind stored information on paper with ink rather than in metal with magic.

“As in with ponies,” Terra said. “I met an interesting unicorn today. His name was Aelix. Aelix Coruscare.”

Harmony’s expression became unreadable. “Ah.”

“He can teleport. True spatial manipulation: no splitting, no traversal. Draconequus magic.”

“It isn’t,” Harmony said. “But the end is the same.”

Terra waved a hoof. “Whatever. On a closer examination I determined that he can do other things, too. Things that I can’t stand to repeat. Things that Order would call unnatural. He can do things to us, Harmony.”

“I know,” Harmony said. “It’s part of his design.”

“As if earthponies that can dance in time and pegasi that can sing my song and hold Order’s gaze aren’t enough!” Terra hissed. “At least they had drawbacks. This new kind of pony... this Coruscare, it has none! It is a unicorn with a set of tools. Tools that I would say look very specific. What are you making, Harmony?”

Harmony turned away. “You are never to disagree with or disobey me,” she said.

Terra sighed. “This is true.”

“Then let me make this perfectly clear, my Terra.” Harmony spun to face her. “You are not to ever speak of this again, to anypony. Not even me.”

Terra’s voice became urgent. “He’s going to find out, Harmony.”

“He will. But on my terms.”

“There are no terms by which you can present Aelix to him that will make this seem acceptable.”

“Acceptable?” Harmony snapped. The word bounced off the inside of The Citadel, reverberating around the two silent alicorns for a time. “Do you think I find it acceptable when he sacrifices ponies by the thousands to draw Discord out? Do you think I find it acceptable that I can scarcely step foot in the world I create?”

“You should,” Terra said. “These things are necessary. Millenia of work will be lost if Discord gets The Citadel.”

“And the ponies whom Order leaves to become creechlings in an effort to draw him out? Do you think they find it acceptable?”

Terra swallowed. “You have always taught that they are ours to do with as we choose. That a chance at assured peace is worth any sacrifice.”

“I worry that I am wrong on both counts,” Harmony said. “And I worry that we have sacrificed too little and asked ponykind to sacrifice too much.”

Terra didn’t know what to say. She’d always been accused of caring too much for ponykind—she was the soft one, not Harmony. Yet here was her mother, confessing compassion for creatures that she rarely ever even saw.

Terra spoke very quietly. “We gave ponykind existence and the means by which to exist.” She was quoting her father.

“We gave them our enemies,” Harmony said. “But not our power. Perhaps this should not be.”

Terra was silent.

“Imagine if ponykind had the power to destroy their enemies. Individually they are weak, but as a race they are resilient. So numerous and crafty that extinction is all but impossible. So numerous that among them there would always be individuals who could use power responsibly.”

“You’re making a weapon,” Terra said.

“Not at all,” Harmony said. “I’m making a future.”

Terra’s family did not love her. She often wondered if she loved them; her mother could be aggravating. Her father could be scary. Her brother could be stupid. Still, like the creatures that Terra cared for, she couldn’t help but feel for her fellow alicorns. The pony family model was alien to Order and Harmony, but that didn’t mean that affection should be taken out of the equation. Surely they could at least love her for being useful.

She was in the forest, looking out over a still pond wreathed in oak trees. As always, the magic came to her with the slightest feeling, and she began to sing.

Today’s song was a butterfly taking off of a lilypad. Her voice fluttered between notes, taking off and rising to a gentle call. The branches around her swayed and brushed her coat. Birds flitted to the trees around the pond to watch, then added their voice to hers.

She stepped out onto the pond, sending ripples away from her hooves as she stood on the surface of the water. Her song’s pace quickened and it grew more intense, like thickening rainfall. Fish swirled around her hooves just below the surface in their own complex pattern. Even they knew their Princess.

And they loved their princess. Every tree, every fish, every animal adored her with an intensity that could defy even their basic design. Wolves would stand alongside sheep just to bask in the glory of Terra, Princess of the Forest, when she sang. Her beauty inspired ponies to first take up oils and paint; her music inspired the creation of a hundred different instruments, each attempting to mimic the sound of her voice. All of them failed.

But would they love her if not for her magic? Terra decided that the answer was yes. She was more to them than beauty and song; she was sustenance. She was nurturing. She was a mother, in ponykind’s sense of the word. Always willing to stop and tend to a creature, no matter how small. Always willing to plant a seed or grow food. Terra loved them. It was that simple.

And she loved her family. It had taken her years of conscious infighting to accept that about herself—love was, after all, a useless idea exclusive to ponykind, and had no place in the heart of an alicorn. It was true nonetheless. She wanted them to be safe and happy. She wanted a world without war, a world where Order and Harmony could roam together, creating and ruling as they saw fit. A world where she and her brother could rule as one entity, not shackled to their parents for safety. As it was, wandering ten minutes away from Order or Harmony was suicide—Terra was no match for Discord.

A pulse of magic stirred the grove. Terra lost her song, and the animals fled as she splashed down into the pond. The trees snapped back to their typical rigid forms.

Laughter rang through the forest: loud, clear, and genuine. It was the laughter of a stallion, one possessed with a deep, compelling voice—a voice made to give commands. Harmony did not spare any details when designing her children.

Terra grumbled as her mane reverted to its natural state and fell soaking wet over her face. She pushed it away with a hoof as she climbed back onto the surface of the water. “Empyrean,” she said, shooting the Prince a dirty look. “You are a dreadful husband and a perfect brother.”

Empyrean’s crown was a titanium wreath of laurels that fit snugly over his ears. Similar pieces of decorative armor wrought from titanium adorned his figure, and a half cloak of red silk was draped across his back and pinned at one shoulder. It was red, to match his mane. The color of dominance. His muzzle was a well-cut square, and his eyes held a kind of unbreakable determination even when he laughed. Empyrean was built to be the quintessential god; a perfect ruler for ponykind.

Lousy husband, though.

“I’m so sorry, dear sister-wife” he said as he leapt onto the surface of the pond. “Did I interrupt your, er...” He gestured to the forest around them. “Frolicking?”

Terra set her mane alight once more. “I am the Princess of the Forest. Mother Nature. It is my royal prerogative to frolic. In any case, that’s not what this was.”

Empyrean raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Terra nodded, her expression one of utmost seriousness. “This was gamboling. Entirely different things.”

“Are they now? Do explain.”

“I doubt you’d pick up on the finer points,” Terra said with a wave of her hoof, “but suffice to say that frolicking involves more gaiety and less skipping.”

“I see,” Empyrean said. “As I am such a hopeless fool, I shall have to take your word for it.”

“How intelligent of you, to recognize your severe lack of intelligence. Now, shouldn’t you be off collecting taxes or changing the world with pieces of paper and the like?”

“The Prince of Ponykind does not personally collect taxes or draft laws, Princess. And even he gets a day off now and then.”

“I never understand your money,” Terra said. “Why do you need a bunch of coins? They all do whatever you tell them to.”

“Yes,” Empyrean said. “But the money is the assurance that they will be rewarded. It’s a means of control.”

“But why does an earthpony or a pegasus want a gold coin? They can’t do anything with it.”

“It’s a symbol, Princess. They can turn it into food when they’re hungry, or blankets when they’re cold.”

“I think I’d rather just get paid in food or blankets.”

Empyrean raised another eyebrow. “You cannot possibly be that much an imbecile. I think you need to spend more time around civilization.”

Terra scoffed. “Laws, money, and everything is made of right angles. No thank you.”

“But the people love you, Princess.”

Terra smiled. “Everything loves me, Prince. And I do spend time in the villages around the forest. The other day I played lawn darts with a group of fillies and sang for a wedding. Much nicer than sitting indoors surrounded by advisors and writing up the latest new imaginary doctrine.”

“The law is important, Terra. It’s what makes them ours.”

Terra simpered. “‘The law’, my dear Prince, is a piece of paper enforced by more pieces of paper. They are in turn enforced by more pieces of paper. If you go far enough, you’ll find a pony. Ideas are indestructible, as Harmony might say, but ponies are not.”

Empyrean laughed. “You’re just jealous because I make more money than you do.”

“Hah!” Terra barked. “You wish you could gambol as a day job.”

Empyrean sighed. “Order knows about the new pony.”

It took Terra a moment to realize what Empyrean had said. Slowly, the smile faded from her face as the implications of his sentence sunk into her mind, dragging every one of her thoughts to the same place: Order knows. But Empyrean had said new pony, singular. Order only knew about one of the new races.

Terra fumed. “Why tell me this way? Why not tell me as soon as you saw me?”

“This way gives me a more honest reaction,” Empyrean said. “Shock, then worry, then relief. There is more than one new race.”

“Harmony’s beard,” Terra cursed. “You can be a real bastard sometimes, Prince.”

Empyrean reached out to place a hoof on her shoulder. He spoke quietly. “Order’s interests take precedence over mine, Terra. I’m sorry.”

It was an honest apology, and Terra forgave him quickly. She wasn’t one to hold a grudge. “Why should he care if Harmony continues to create? It’s her purpose.”

“It is,” Empyrean said. “But she should be creating the races that fit into the natural order. These ponies have no place in our world.”

“The natural order,” Terra spat. “Animals eating each other to survive and rogue storms tearing trees out of the ground. Who cares how everything exists as long as they exist together.”

“In harmony?” Empyrean asked.

“Pretty much,” Terra said, giving a conciliatory nod. “This conversation isn’t going to get us anywhere, is it?”

“Not at all,” Empyrean said. “Hopefully the two of them will come to a reasonable solution. Until then, we get to spend a few days together. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

I love you, brother.

“I suppose so,” Terra said. “I do enjoy spending time with you. Where is Order?”

“The Verge,” Empyrean said. “I’ll be able to come and go safely as long as he stays there.”

“Why is he in the Verge?” Terra asked. “It’s right next to The Citadel. Harmony has it covered.”

Empyrean frowned. “A trap,” he said after a pause.

A trap. Order was going to feed Discord another village of ponies in hopes of drawing him out. “A waste,” Terra spat. “He’ll do as he pleases with them and leave.”

Empyrean’s jaw stiffened. “It is important that we maintain initiative. A sacrifice of so few ponies is worth that. Discord’s weakness is that he cannot plan or scheme.

“So you think.”

“So I know. We are going to use his ineptitude.”

“Ponies would call you a murderer,” Terra said through gritted teeth.

“Would they?” Empyrean asked. “Because I’m actually a god. This is our right, Terra. Your duties do not require you to be so hard, but much is asked of the scion of Order.”

“You all say I’m so soft,” Terra said. “But it isn’t a weakness; it’s a choice. I don’t like this, Prince.”

Empyrean scoffed. “It’s a war, Princess,” he said. “No one likes it.”

The creechling was a creature out of nightmare. It had four legs, but they were stretched to twice the length of a pony’s and each had three points of articulation. Its skin seemed to pull away from its face, as if something had grabbed the back of its head and yanked until its face began to split at the seams. Blood glistened in the cracks around its taught lips and the splits that ran away from its eyes. The excess skin was gathered in folds along its back. It had the tail of a scorpion, chitinous carapace cutting into the flesh it covered.

As always, Terra froze when she saw it. Bile rose up in her throat as it turned to face her and opened its mouth to release a shrill screech. Its lips tore like paper, and blood ran down its muzzle.

Empyrean sheared it off at the legs with Sovereign, a conjured blade that seemed to be made of gleaming metal. Terra cringed as it hit the floor shrieking, mutated legs flailing. She hated to hear any creature in pain. Even a creechling.

“This is why we call you soft, Princess,” Empyrean said as he drove his blade through its skull. It’s legs continued to beat uselessly against the floor even after it had died.

They were in Equina, Ponykind’s shining capitol. Specifically, they were at Castle Alicorn, Empyrean’s seat of rule. Equina was close enough to The Citadel that Discord didn’t dare attack it; Harmony could arrive in moments and destroy him. Attacking Equina would be foolish.

Or at least, that was what they had thought.

The Capitol’s gleaming spires had fallen to chaos. Some burned; others had been transformed into candy canes. Still others floated in the air, upside down. Their occupants stayed trapped inside, looking fearfully out at their backwards world.

Red rain clouds sped through the skies on seemingly random trajectories, pouring forth a liquid that melted everything it touched. After a cloud passed, the liquid left over would gather into hideous, twisted masses of stone, wood, and flesh.

The screams were the worst, though. Not the high-pitched, ululating wail that a creechling made when it found its prey, but the sound of the ponies that followed.

Terra began to feel her chest burn. “This is what Discord does to them,” she said. “When Order leaves them to him as bait. This is what becomes of them.”

“Ponykind is resilient,” Empyrean said. “Prune ten thousand of them and they can renew their numbers within a generation.”

“Is this what you’ve been taught?” Terra asked. “What about us? If both our parents were to die today, defeating Discord, the continuity of our species would be ensured.”

Empyrean looked at her, muzzle wrinkled in shock. “We are immortal gods, Terra. We matter when taken as individuals.”

Terra jerked her head toward the thrashing creechling. Its scorpion tail clacked every time its movements caused it to strike against the floor. “And they don’t?”

Empyrean looked revolted by the very suggestion. “No. What has Harmony been teaching you?” He waved a hoof. “It doesn’t matter. She should be here in moments. Until then we secure my council ponies. I cannot rule from Equina with only a pack of monsters.”

Terra nodded. Their argument would have to wait for later. Right now they had to deal with the largest attack Discord had ever brought to bear against ponykind. “Lead the way.”

They both took off and dove through a window into the interior of Castle Alicorn. Empyrean led Terra through a maze of hallways and doors. Terra soon felt like she was lost. She’d never been good with right angles.

“Harmony should be here by now,” Empyrean said. “She should have left as soon as she sensed his presence. Every moment she delays, she’s putting us in danger.”

“She will come,” Terra said as they sped out one window and into another several stories higher up. “Stop being so resentful of our mother. I’d say Order is rubbing off on you.”

“This from a mare who mourns the death of a creechling.”

“It was a pony once,” Terra said.

“They can’t be cured, Terra,” Empyrean said. “You know that.” They landed in front of a set of tall double doors, and Terra assumed they’d reached Empyrean’s council chambers. “Once the corruption gets in deep, there’s nothing even Order and Harmony can do to fix them. The only cure is death, and that’s a mercy.” He threw open the doors.

The room beyond was a large circular chamber cut out of stone. Tiers of benches rose up along its outside, and windows were set high into the walls. A podium stood at the center; Terra assumed this was where Empyrean typically stood.

It was filled with creechlings. Things with eight legs and distended stomachs turned to look at the newcomers with faceted eyes. Monsters that had once been pegasi spun to face them, held in the air by insectile wings. There were creechlings with three faces, creechlings with teeth lining their eye sockets, and creechlings that oozed slime from pulsing orifices along their backs. All of them wore the tattered remains of a half-cloak similar to Empyrean’s.

Empyrean sighed. “Oh, bother,” he said, as though he hadn’t just lost several dozen ponies he’d known for years. He cast Sovereign. Terra cast Exogenesis.

“Decided to help this time?” Empyrean asked with a sidelong smile.

Terra tasted bile once more. Not from the creechlings, but from Empyrean’s smile. Who could enjoy dealing death? “I am a merciful god,” she whispered.

In the space of a heartbeat, she threw herself across the room and sheared the closest creechling in two. It burst like an egg tossed against a wall, splattering a sickly green fluid all over Terra and the floor around her.

The creechlings had taken only a minor interest in Terra and Empyrean as they had entered the council chamber. Once Terra had killed the first, each of their gazes snapped to her. Their eerie, keening wails echoed through the room.

The glittering shards of Empyrean’s blade tore through the heads and necks of over a dozen creechlings, sending them crashing to the floor to die thrashing in pools of their own ichor.

Terra was already moving. She shattered Exogenesis and sent it into her half of the creechlings. Her blademotes struck them much the same way Sovereign’s had, except Exogenesis turned their flesh to dust where it touched them.

The creechlings fell like wheat before the scythe. None of them had touched either the Prince or the Princess. It took them only seconds to clear the room.

“See,” Empyrean said, flicking ichor off his blade. “That is why we matter when taken as individuals and they do not. That, and immortality.”

A disembodied voice filled the room. “You’re wrong, Empyrean. So very wrong.”

Terra froze, shooting Empyrean a terrified look. Harmony hadn’t yet arrived. They couldn’t deal with Discord; they were only three hundred years old.

“No one can blame you,” Discord’s voice said. “You’re a product of your upbringing. But I can assure you one thing, son of Order:”

The ichor that had spilled all over the council chamber began to run towards the center of the room, gathering at one point. A pool of the sickly green substance gathered, then rose into the air and solidified into the shape of a draconequus. Discord opened his eyes and grinned.

“You aren’t worth any more than one of the ponies you just killed.”

Terra took an involuntary step backwards. Where was Harmony? “We killed? You’re the murderer. You killed those ponies when you turned them into things.”

Discord wrapped himself around her in an instant, and Terra’s flesh shivered and withdrew where he touched it. “I didn’t turn them into anything,” he said. “I just made the two of you think that.” He snapped his claws.

Every corpse in the room reverted to the corpse of a pony. Ponies that had been sheared in two, had their throats cut, and had their flesh turned to dust by their own gods. Terra remembered how all of them had turned to face her when she killed the first. She had heard them let out their eerie creechling wail; was that when the council ponies had started screaming?

This time the bile she tasted wasn’t from disgust at the creechlings, or Empyrean. She’d murdered ponies out of ignorance and called it mercy. Her legs gave out as she fell to the floor and vomited. Her forehead felt suddenly cold and damp from sweat.

“Like mother, like daughter,” Discord said. “You’re wondering why Harmony isn’t here yet? We played a little game, her and I. She got to choose between her children and all those ponies you tried to feed me in an effort to draw me out. And do you know something, Empyrean?”

Terra was still bracing herself against the floor, and she couldn’t see Empyrean or Discord. She didn't know why Empyrean didn’t say anything.

“If right and wrong exist,” Discord said. “Harmony chose right. How does that make you feel, Empyrean, knowing that your mother would do wrong by saving your life?”

“You’ve overextended,” Empyrean said. “They’re going to destroy you. This was a blunder.”

“Oh?” Discord said. “It seems Order has misled you, Empyrean. Has he been telling you he’s going to kill me all this time? It’s a shame we’ve never gotten to talk, just you and I, until today. I’d love to have a heartfelt conversation, but time is short and we have work to do.”

Terra pushed herself to her hooves. “You stay away from him.”

Discord spun to face her. “Oh, go away,” he said. “I’ll get to you in a minute.” He snapped his claws once more.

Terra was back outside Castle Alicorn looking at Equina. Discord had teleported her outside. To be alone with Empyrean.

“Brother,” Terra whispered.

She shot off in the direction of the castle, then realized that she had no idea how to get back to the council chamber. She stopped as she came into an entrance hall. To Terra, everything in Castle Alicorn looked the same: red carpets and right angles.

The council chamber was near the top of the enormous structure. And it was situated somewhere in the middle. If there was ever a time Terra needed her godhood, it was now.

She tore walls and floors away on her path through the Castle, turning to dust in moments what ponies had crafted in decades. Progress was slow, but it was faster than navigating the labyrinthine corridors.

As Terra destroyed the palace to get to her brother, the reality of the situation began to sink in. Harmony’s charge had been to protect Equina, Terra, and Empyrean. Discord could not attack them so long as she was so close by.

Or at least, that was how it was supposed to be. Where was Harmony now? Empyrean was alone with Discord, an enemy he didn’t even have the power to fight. The blood in Terra’s veins turned cold as she realized that her brother was going to die. What was she going to do, charge in and rescue him? She couldn’t fight Discord.

They had their petty disagreements, but he was still her brother. He was her pairing. She couldn’t leave him. She couldn’t be left alone.

Terra stopped as she emerged in a vaguely familiar hallway. She flew through a series of doorways, and sure enough, there was the entrance to the council chamber. She blew the doors off their hinges.

Relief warmed Terra as she saw that Empyrean was still standing in the center of the room with Discord, surrounded by the dead council ponies. Of course her brother had kept him talking. Perhaps they could distract him long enough for their parents to arrive.

“Empyrean,” she said.

Empyrean turned to regard her with Discord. “You’re ugly,” he said.

It took Terra a moment to process what he had said; to see that the whites of his eyes had been turned black, that the crown he wore was made of writhing worms. And for that one, single moment, her brother was alive.

Then the truth dragged her into a very real nightmare. They can’t be cured, Terra. The only cure is death, and that’s a mercy. The world fell away and Terra’s chest became unbearably tight. She let out a tiny cry as a tear rolled down her face.

“Please don’t cry!” Empyrean said, stepping forward. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it that way. You’ve just always looked so perfect, Terra. You were designed to be exactly what ponykind finds aesthetically pleasing. Your form is so exact it’s hideous.”

Empyrean continued to approach her. Discord pulled out a bag of popcorn.

“But we can fix you,” Empyrean said. “We can make you beautiful. And you’ll see things, Terra. He can show you things that will turn your world upside down.” Empyrean giggled. “And then he’ll really turn the world upside down.”-

Discord stuffed a mouthful of popcorn into his mouth. “I’ve wanted a son ever since I got this idea about five minutes ago,” he said. “I’m so proud of him.”

“You don’t know how much you’re hurting,” Empyrean said, his eyes wide. “How horrible it really is to have all your thoughts locked inside your head. He can fix it, Terra. And then you can think and do whatever you want. You can think on the outside.” He giggled again, a childish noise than put Terra’s teeth on edge. A trickle of green fluid ran out of one of his nostrils.

They can’t be cured, Terra. Once the corruption gets in deep, there’s nothing even Order and Harmony can do to fix them. “No,” Terra said. “We’ll fix you. We have to.”

“I’m already fixed!” Empyrean screamed suddenly. “You think that a life dedicated to ruling is what I want? I don’t care about any of my stupid rules! I don’t want to please father anymore!”

The rational part of Terra’s brain told her that the thing standing in front of her was not Empyrean. That her brother was already dead. But he looked like her brother, spoke with her brother’s voice.

“I love you,” Terra said. Empyrean cocked his head, and a worm fell off his crown to the ground below. Discord’s face went slack, and his bag of popcorn fell out of his paw to spill all over the bloody floor.

“I know we aren’t supposed to,” Terra whispered. “I know that our parents think it’s useless, especially Order. You aren’t even very nice, to be honest. But you’re my brother. No one can treat me the way you do, Empyrean. All our arguments, all our differences—because we were built and trained to be different—they make us the perfect set of siblings. And I love you for it.”

Discord appeared beside her and spoke into her ear. “How touching,” he said. He reached out and used a paw to wipe a tear from her face. “But there’s no need to get upset. He was telling the truth. We can fix you.”

Terra’s blood froze. “I doubt you’re going to give me much of a choice,” she said. “I know what you do to your enemies.”

Discord grinned as he slithered through the air to stand behind Empyrean. “Enemies? I didn’t do this to Empyrean because he’s an enemy, I did it because he’s boring. But you, Terra: you’re the daughter of Harmony. And that makes you very interesting. The choice will make things even more interesting. Will you wear the crown of vermin?”

Terra closed her eyes. “Are you being dishonest?” she asked. “Or do you truly understand us that little? I hope you find yourself alone under an empty sky for what you did to my brother, Discord. I will never wear a crown other than the Crown of Thorns. It is who I am.”

“Cute little filly,” Discord said. “Who you are is broken. You’re brotherless and soon to be motherless. You’ll live the rest of your life with only Order. And you’re so confused, because you’re so full of love. But love isn’t useful; love isn’t supposed to be real to alicorns. You’re going to be miserable for a very long time, Terra.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

Terra jerked away. “So I should just give up now?”

“You’d be different,” Discord said. “I won’t lie to you. I’d change you for good. You might end up nothing like the pony you are now. But you’d be happy. And you’d be with Empyrean forever. Isn’t that what you want? What is there to seek out in life other than happiness?”

Terra swallowed. “Happiness of others,” she said. “Doing what’s right. Making the world a better place. I’d rather die.”

“Fine.” Discord waved a paw. “Then kill yourself.”

Terra was taken aback. “What?”

Discord grinned. “You heard me. Kill yourself. If you’d rather die than wear The Crown of Vermin, and you don’t believe I’m honest, then you must believe I’m about to bestow upon you a fate worse than death. So your only sensible course of action is to kill yourself.”

“I...” The number one imperative of any well-designed species was survival. Terra had been taught this from a very young age. Survive, a voice whispered in the back of her mind.

Discord chuckled. “And you ponies think I act unreasonable.”

Terra had never been very involved with the war. Order and Empyrean fought it, Harmony and Terra picked up the pieces. That was the way it had always been. But Empyrean had always given her the impression that Discord was a random creature, incapable of strategy or planning.

And they were as wrong as they could be. Discord had somehow taken Harmony out of the equation, lain waste to the capitol, and turned Empyrean into a creechling. Terra was next, and as much as she hated to admit it, Discord was right: she should just kill herself.

She couldn’t bring herself to do it, though. She didn’t even know how she’d do it. The very idea was ridiculous. Survive.

Discord smiled down at her. “Remember, Terra, that I gave you a choice.” A flash of light, and he was gone, leaving her alone with Empyrean. Or, what was left of him.

“He’s so nice,” Empyrean said after Discord had left. “I hope he becomes my new dad.”

Terra closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Empyrean.”

She sang him a lullaby. It was slow, and every note was a cruelty. As Empyrean’s face went slack, Terra put a hoof around his neck and began to lead him in a small, circular dance.

“Your music is always so pretty,” Empyrean whispered to her. “Have you tried singing it backwards? If you sing it backwards, all the notes you put in will come out again.”

Terra couldn’t answer him and keep her song at the same time. Instead she lifted the crown of worms from his head and placed it gently on the floor. Then she drew Exogenesis.

Empyrean cringed slightly, but her song kept him docile. “Are you going to hurt me?” he asked.

An effort of will; a rush of air; a thud as her only brother’s head hit the floor rolling. Another thud for his body.

“No,” Terra whispered. “It won’t hurt at all. I hate to see a creature in pain.”

Terra didn’t know how long she stood there before she became aware of the sound of Discord’s clapping. Claw slapped against paw again and again, and each time the sound reached her ears she trembled harder and harder. “You,” she spat. “You killed him.”

Discord appeared in front of her. “Ah-ah-ah!” he said, waving a claw. “You killed him. Unless you believe that guilt belongs to the being whose actions led to his death, in which case Harmony killed him. This should make things very interesting. Tell me, Terra, what was it you said when you killed the first council pony? I’ve forgotten.”

“I am a merciful god,” Terra whispered.

The air behind Discord roiled and wavered, then the illusion peeled away to reveal the form of a pony. Discord spun, seeming for the first time to be caught off guard.

“I,” Order said. “Am not.”

A sound like thunder heard from beneath the surface of a lake resounded throughout the room. One moment, Order was on the far side of Discord. The next, he stood in front of Terra, a wispy trail of opaque black strands behind him. Discord was gone.

Terra’s voice caught in her throat. “I-I killed him, father.” She took a step away. “I had to. I’m so sorry.”

Order looked down at her. His eyes were so very, very empty.

A vivid green meadow spread out before them, a thousand dandelions mimicking the golden sun above. Not a single cloud marred the perfect blue sky. It was the quintessential meadow, perhaps the very meadow by which all others were designed. A butterfly landed on Terra’s nose, then lazily fluttered its wings.

“You are but twelve years old, Terra,” Order said. “But your place in the natural order has been made clear. You will nurture each new species, and guide them to their special place in our world.”

“Like the butterflies?” Terra asked. The one on her nose took flight, startled as she spoke. Terra followed it with her gaze, grinning.

“Not the butterflies,” Order said. “Not unless Discord renders them extinct or unusable. Now tell me: what do you see in this meadow?”

“Dandelions!” Terra’s mane was the color of dandelions. Perfect dandelions, that was.

“Indeed,” Order said. “No daisies. No honeysuckle. No bluebells.”

The air around them stirred, and the grass was flattened to the ground as Harmony glided down to land beside them. She ruffled her wings. “Flowers made war, and dandelions won.”

“Is that bad?” Terra asked.

“No single species is meant to attain dominance,” Order said. “And yet dandelions have become the apex flower.”

“It’s a design flaw,” Harmony said, stepping into place beside her husband. “They’re too resilient, and propagate too quickly. I always thought my seed design was clever.”

“Too clever, it would seem,” Order said.

“Yes,” Harmony said. “They need a new design.”

Terra looked from her mother to her father. “So the dandelions are going to change?”

“Yes,” Harmony said. “They need to die more. I will redesign them so that they live in harmony with the other flowers.”

“Thus fulfilling the natural order,” Order said.

Terra giggled. Harmony smiled. Order raised an eyebrow at them.

“This is where your task comes in, Terra,” Harmony said. “The current dandelion is too robust. You’ll need to kill them all before we start laying the new design.”

“I have to kill them?”

“Indeed,” Order said. “Be glad that we are designing dandelions, and not hyenas.”

Harmony sighed. “You always bring up the hyenas.”

“But I don’t want to kill the dandelions!”

“The hyenas,” Order said, “almost always merit bringing up.”

Harmony grumbled. “It was an isolated incident—”

“—Involving twelve thousand flaming hyenas—”

“Mom!” Terra shouted. “Dad!” Both of them turned to look down at her. “Isn’t there a way to keep these dandelions? I like them. They’re the color of my mane.”

Order seemed to consider this for a moment. “There is,” he said at last. “It will contribute to your education with unicorn magic.”

Terra gasped. “You’re going to teach me magic?” Order nodded.

“Will you be needing the design?” Harmony asked.

“No,” Order said. “It will be a simple spell.”

“Fair enough,” Harmony said. “I will adjourn. Behave, Terra. Your father is patient, but only for those willing to learn.”

Terra nodded vigorously. “I will! Be good, I mean.” Harmony smiled at her and then flew away.

“Now,” Order said. “Building a spell that will sterilize any member of a particular species is difficult. You must first understand how they reproduce. Do you know how a dandelion reproduces, Terra?”

“You blow on them!” Terra said.

“This is true, in part. But it is also much more complex than that...”

Whatever being had taught Terra how to use magic, whatever being had so softly joked with Harmony, he was gone now.

“I know,” Order said. “You are...” he paused, “—blameless. I should thank you for killing my only son, Terra. I could not have done it myself.”

Discord snapped into the space behind Order. “That was rude,” he accused.

Order turned around and regarded Discord. “Run, Terra,” he said. “Find your treacherous mother. Tell her that she killed my son. And that I defeated Discord.”

She killed my son. Terra swallowed.

“That’s odd,” Discord said, flying in a circle. “I don’t feel defeated. You can’t see the future, Order.”

“No,” Order said. “I can make it.”

Order wheeled on Terra, his horn blazing. A white bolt of energy shot towards Terra and struck her in the chest before she could react, knocking her to the ground. Terra was encased in a translucent white bubble of rippling energy. Order’s magic.

A wave of light and sound washed over the forcefield, loud enough to burst Terra’s eardrums and bright enough to momentarily blind her. As she tried to gather her bearings, Terra sent a shock of earthpony magic through her body, healing her wounds.

Then the bubble was gone, and Terra was falling. The air caught her wings, and Terra spread them wide, catching herself and gliding down to rest atop a pile of rubble.

Rubble. She had been in the council chambers, and then she fell. Had Discord teleported her, or had Order simply obliterated that much of Castle Alicorn? From the chokingly thick cloud of dust that surrounded her, she feared it was the latter.

Order fell out of the sky and struck the ground before her like a meteor. A wave of rubble shot outward from his point of impact, and shattered stone stung Terra where it struck her coat.

Despite the thick cloud of dust, Terra could clearly hear Discord snapping a claw. Tiny particles of dust fell to the ground, coating the world around them in a sanguine mist. Terra realized with a shock that Discord had turned it into blood.

“Poor Order,” Discord said. “How will you build a perfect world without your perfect son?”

“Discord,” Order said. “You are imperfection perfected. Chaos concentrated into a being whose only purpose is to undo all that has true purpose. I will make a perfect world, Discord. And I will start by destroying you.”

Order whirled, his motion causing the blood to come off his body in a fine spray. Singularity came into being and snapped to his side. “Monster,” he said.

As the blood touched Discord’s body, it turned into water. Discord grinned, tiny droplets of moisture glistening off his teeth. “Aren't we?”

Order rushed forward, Singularity dancing through the air. Discord slithered around it, grabbed hold of Order’s face, and tore half of it off with his claw.

Terra spread her wings and pushed herself away from the ground as fast as she could manage. A fight between a three thousand year old alicorn and Discord wasn’t something she could be close to. She needed to get to The Citadel and find her mother.

A scream reached her ears as her wings took her away from Castle Alicorn. It didn’t sound like any creature Terra had ever heard before—and she’d heard the calls of every one of Harmony’s creations. It was a pitched wail, overlapping itself a hundred times. It didn’t sound like Discord, but who else could it be?

As Terra frantically flew through a crossroads in the middle of the city, Discord appeared and grabbed her out of the air, his claw sinking into her belly. He looked perfectly fine, but his eyes were wide and his pupils tiny.

“Don’t you want to be happy?” he hissed. “Isn’t that why any of you do anything? Accept me or you will be miserable forever.”

Terra struggled in his grasp, trying to wrench herself free, but his claws just dug in deeper. Just how strong was Discord? Was physical strength even a consideration for a draconequus? She might as well be wrestling a mountain.

Order struck the road beside them. His landing shattered cobblestones and kicked up dirt. Discord released Terra, and she took to the air.

“Do not touch her again,” Order said. Singularity cut a swath through the air and met Discord’s head.

Discord shattered like a stained-glass window, a million shards vanishing into nothingness.

Order took a single, limping step towards Terra. She couldn't help but cringe. “Keep. Moving,” he said. “You. Will. Survive.”

Terra gathered the air around her and shot off towards the edge of Equina once again. She ducked through houses, under towers, and sped through streets faster than she had ever flown in her life. A single idea drove her on. The one imperative programmed into every species alive. Survive.

On the very outskirts of Equina, Discord appeared before her. He had obviously been fighting Order while she had run; he was missing an arm. It grew back as he spoke.

“You want to know why he wants you alive so badly?” Discord asked. “Because he’s going to kill your mother. Think about that for a moment.” Discord said. “You will live the rest of your immortal life alone and powerless beneath him. I can set you free.”

He moved forward to grab her, but stopped as Singularity burst from the center of his chest. Discord ignored the blade, whirling to face his assailant.

The air between Terra and Discord shimmered, and Order appeared in front of his daughter. As Discord turned to face an enemy that wasn’t there, Singularity ripped itself out of his chest and sheared off his head.

Before the grotesque thing could bounce against the ground, Order had pinned Discord’s body to the ground and raised Singularity high above his head.

Discord’s head vanished to appear atop his neck once more.

“I told you,” Order said, flicking his ears. “Not to touch her again!” He shook his head, as though attempting to shoo away flies that weren’t there. “You didn’t listen. Why don’t any of you listen....”

Discord let out a thin, shaky laugh. “Oh, Order. Why would anything ever listen to you?”

Order slowly shook his head. “I made this world a point of order in a black sea of endless chaos. And this is my reward. My wife has betrayed me. My son is dead. How is it that you live, but they perish?”

Discord grinned. “I’m alive,” he said, “because I cannot die. I’m the only constant here, Order. I’m chaos.”

“I am not Order!” the King bellowed. Singularity bore down on the pinned draconequus, tearing limbs off as fast as Discord could regrow them. “I am no longer a part of the natural laws. I am their new master. I have no equals any more. And soon I will have no rivals.”

Order thrust his blade downward into Discord’s face. Discord raised a claw to deflect it. The end of the blade broke and scattered into a swarm of dark energy, held at bay in the space just above his claw. It made a rushing noise as it inched ever closer to Discord’s face.

Discord hissed, a hideous sound overlaying a shriek of pain. “You,” he said. “You cannot kill me! I. Cannot. Die.”

Order cocked his head. “No,” he said. “I cannot. I have a far better fate for you, enemy. One that will make you wish you could kill yourself, though I suspect you wish this already.”

Discord let out a noise that was half spluttering cough, half laugh. “Try me, Order.”

Terra knew that this was her chance. That she should run. But as much as her senses told her to flee, she couldn’t look away. Her father was about to win the war. Discord was going to lose. Discord, the unkillable enemy of centuries.

A mote of darkness appeared at the tip of Order’s horn. “I am not Order,” he said in a voice that was quite calm. “I abandon that name for one more suitable. For while I am order over chaos, I am also sanity over emotion. I am the undefeated champion of the immortal game. I am the apex of all life, and I will usher this world into a new golden age of balance and perfection. I am Titan, and I am the ruler of all things.”

He leaned down, until his muzzle was right next to Discord’s ear. “And now I am going to defeat you, enemy, in a way so horrifying and absolute that not any creature will ever try to take my world again.” Titan began to whisper, so softly that Terra could barely hear even with her pegasus ears. “Do not think of a white room,” he said.

Immediately, Discord went rigid. “No,” he said. “No, no no! You don’t know... you can’t know...”

“Do not think that this room is unbreakable, that you will be trapped there forever. Do not think that the light from this room will burn your eyes and that you will never, ever find any reprieve from its harsh simplicity.”

Discord screamed. It was like hearing a thousand inequine beasts scream at once, all layered on top of one another. Still, the sound was something Terra recognized—an animal in pain. He thrashed beneath Titan, moving like a pinned insect, then a caged beast, then a writhing eel. He didn’t escape.

“Do not think,” Titan said, “that this room is horror designed for you especially, enemy, because you killed my son. Do not think that in this room you are helpless, and you will suffer timelessly.”

Discord screamed again, and another thousand voices added themselves to the horrifying din. He twisted his head and sunk his teeth into Titan’s foreleg. He was ignored.

Titan’s horn was entirely encased in the dark magic when it touched Discord’s forehead. The screaming stopped.

“Do not think these things,” Titan whispered. “Because if you do, you will never be able to think anything else until the day I die.”

Discord collapsed, breaking into thousands of tiny pieces that fell into the point of Titan’s horn and vanished. The King stood. “And I intend to live forever.”

The tapping of Terra’s hooves against The Citadel shards came faster than it ever had before. She didn’t even look to see them zipping in to carry her weight as she ascended to the upper ring.

“Harmony!” Terra screamed as she reached the top.

“I’m here,” Harmony said from her place on part of the upper ring. She stood not far away from Terra, looking inward at the ghostly image of Empyrean, standing next to Terra.

“It’s his design,” Harmony said. “And yours. I thought it was all I’d have left of you. But you survived.” Harmony’s face softened, and her eyes looked pained. “My Terra,” she said as she turned to face her daughter.

“You left us to die,” Terra said. “You let him take Empyrean. And you were ready to let him take me.” She coughed up her next word: “Why?”

Harmony shut her eyes. “I decided that I was wrong, Terra. That our lives aren’t worth any more than a single pony’s. I figured out why it took me so long to realize it: because once I admitted the truth to myself...” she took a deep breath.

“I’ve done horrible things,” Harmony said. “Truly terrible things. My ignorance has led to the perpetual slaughter of the entire pony race for so many years....”

“You chose them,” Terra said. “He gave you a choice and you abandoned your children to save ponies.”

“I did,” Harmony said. “I’ve played god for so long, but the truth is that I can’t comprehend the death of even such a small smattering of thousands. Logic is cruel, Terra. Do you have any idea what it feels like to prove, mathematically, beyond a doubt, that leaving your children to die is the right thing to do?”

“You think you saved them?” Terra said, incredulous. “Do you know what your husband is doing right now? He’s killing them, Harmony. He’s wiping Equina off of the map.”

Harmony shuddered. “I’m almost three thousand years old, Terra. I can hear the screams from here.” She said nothing further.

Terra examined her mother more closely. Harmony had lost her son. Her husband had gone insane. Her daughter—did Terra despise her mother, now? She felt betrayed, certainly. What her mother had done was unforgivable. Despite this, Harmony looked as composed as she had ever been.

“This is a catalyst,” Harmony said. “I’ll let thousands die now to save them millenia of tyranny if I have to. It’s cold, and it’s evil, but it’s the best I can do for them. It’s all I can do, despite my godhood.” Her voice lowered to a whisper as the image at the center of The Citadel vanished. “We created them,” she said. “And you, too. And now.... But of course you know what this feels like. He was your brother. They are your subjects.”

“You,” Terra said, shaking her head. “You should be dead. Not him.”

“Believe me,” Harmony said. “If I could stop this with my death alone, I would. But I fear it won’t be nearly enough. Tell me, Terra: if you had to choose between me and ten thousand ponies, what would it be?”

“You,” Terra said. She tried not to think about the question; she already knew the right answer. “You’re the Queen.”

Harmony shook her head. “No, Terra. You’re the Queen.”

Harmony’s crown went out. Her mane went limp and fell flat against the sides of her head. Her royal regalia fell away from her shrinking form. In seconds, she stood before Terra, so small she might as well have been a child.

“I have less magic than the apex ponies now,” Harmony said. “I am living proof that the only difference between us and ponykind is power. So answer me, Terra: Who do you save knowing that three thousand mothers will die with their children when you choose me?”

Terra felt her eyes begin to burn. “This isn’t fair,” she said.

“No, it wasn’t,” Harmony said. “We call ourselves gods, but making that choice is so difficult. It was easy when they were worthless. I think evil always is.”

“Discord is gone,” Terra said. “Order is going to come here. For you. You need to run.”

“No,” Harmony said. “I don’t. My husband will come, and he and I will have a long overdue conversation.”

“Take your power back,” Terra begged. “Fight him.”

Harmony smiled. “He’ll win,” she said. “Your father has a gift, Terra. I’ve never seen him lose a fight.”

Terra looked down at her tiny mother as tears started to roll down her face. “Please. Do something. I can’t lose you too.”

Harmony cocked her head. “Why not?”

“Because you’re my mother,” Terra said. “I need you.”

Harmony’s face broke out into the saddest smile Terra had ever seen her give. “If love were better defined,” she said, “I think that the way I feel about you would qualify, Terra.”

Terra took her tiny mother up in an embrace. Here it was: everything she’d ever wanted from her mother. “I love you too,” she whispered.

“My Terra,” Harmony said. “My whole world. I have but two expectations for you. Do these two things and you will make me as proud as any mother could be. And know that as long as you strive for them, I will always love you.”

“Please,” Terra said again. “Don’t leave me with him.”

“My first expectation of you, Terra, is this: you must make the world a better place. No matter how small your deeds.”

Terra sobbed, but nodded.

“My second expectation of you, Terra, will be more difficult. You must be happy. That is all. I wish I didn’t have to leave you, Terra, but I have no other options. To stabilize his actions and set my plans in motion I have to die.”

“No,” Terra wailed. She had woken up that morning with plans to take a stroll through Castle Alicorn’s gardens with Empyrean. That was all. “It isn’t fair. Why is it so unfair?”

“Because,” Harmony said. “That’s the way we made it.”

“And that is the way it shall stay,” Titan said.

He glided in through the top of the open Citadel, landing soundlessly on section of the upper ring. “All things must exist in their proper portions. In perfect balance. This is the natural order.”

Harmony swallowed, then pulled away from Terra. She looked at her husband and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter how they exist, Order. Only that they exist together.”

Titan looked at Harmony, and Terra was hard pressed to find even an ounce of emotion in his expression. “My system will be perfect,” Titan said. “Self-sustaining and resilient. Without Discord, it will be everything we wanted.”

Harmony’s face went slack, and she returned Titan’s emotionless voice with her own. “I posit that taking what we want is no longer our prerogative,” she said. “Our creation has become greater than its creators and the suffering we inflict upon them has expanded past our means to comprehend. We wrongly consider them as a species when we cannot even consider them as individuals.”

“Ponykind is a dream,” Titan said. “And we are the dreamers. You have lost yourself in a false reality, Harmony, thinking that it is real.”

“Equina?” Harmony asked impassively.

“Gone,” Titan said. “Discord is defeated. We no longer need them in such robust numbers.”

“And?”

“And they must be punished,” Titan said. “For poisoning your mind as they have. For making you fail to protect our children.”

Harmony closed her eyes for only a moment and nodded. “Happiness is not something attained through power, possessions, or privileges, Order; rather, it is a lack of cognitive dissonance. I have found happiness in admitting to myself my own atrocities. I have cleansed my mind of poison.”

“Happiness,” Titan repeated. “We have toured the cosmos. Witnessed the birth of stars. Together.”

“The cosmos is cold and dark, when taken in its mean,” Harmony said. “A vast nothingness filled with points of light so tiny as to seem insignificant. But this world is so filled with life and soul.”

“No,” Titan said. “I will cure you. I will make you see as I do.”

Slowly, her face still an expressionless mask, Harmony shook her head. “You can’t,” she said. “Not to me. Not unless I let you.”

“Then let me. Be my wife again.”

“No.”

“You killed my son.”

“I did.”

“You would choose them over me?”

Harmony looked down at her discarded regalia. “I already have.”

A pause. Titan blinked. “Don’t leave me alone,” he said.

Another pause. Terra had never seen her parents hesitate. What were they thinking, before they said their words as though they meant nothing to eachother? I am sanity over emotion, Titan had said. Don’t leave me alone.

Who would he have, if he killed his wife? Terra. The daughter he had practically ignored since her birth. His scion was dead. His only equal was standing before him, telling him that she would rather die than be his wife. I intend to live forever.

Titan was looking at spending an eternity with nothing. Nothing but his work.

“I intend to fight you for control,” Harmony said. “As Terra is an asset to both of us, it is in our mutual interest to give her time to escape.”

“Terra,” Titan said, never taking his eyes off of Harmony. “You have twenty seven seconds. You will need each of them.”

Harmony turned to her. “Fly away, Terra. And remember what I told you.”

Fly away. Terra was never able to fly in The Citadel. She felt like she should say something to her mother. One last word before she died. All she could think of was to nod quickly before shooting up into the air and away.

I love you. Be happy. Make the world a better place. Each of the statements were so alien to Terra as an alicorn. What would she do? Where would she go? Obviously she couldn’t let her father find her; Order had terrified her. Titan was a thousand times worse.

I love you. Be happy. Make the world a better place. Titan would want to get rid of the new races. Terra could save them. That would make the world a better place, wouldn’t it? Would it make her happy, to care for such a small number of ponies in the midst of Titan’s culling?

Twenty seven seconds. She didn’t know how long it had been, but it had to be close to twenty seven. Her mother was going to die. Any second now, her mother was going to die.

An echoing crack unlike thunder. A wave of force that shattered bones. The world went white.

Terra awoke to the sound of a babbling brook nearby and the harsh glare of sunlight in her eyes. Lying on the ground, she realized before she came to her senses that it was an absolutely beautiful day.

“I am glad you’re awake,” said Titan.

Terra shot to her hooves, but what use was it to try and run from her father? He stood in front of her before she had even left the ground.

“The blast,” Terra said. “It knocked me out.”

“It did,” Titan said, his voice still hollow. “Escaping was never a feasible option for you. I gave you twenty seven seconds. You would have needed ninety.”

Terra took a step back. She couldn’t get away, not from him. She needed to find some way to survive.

“Harmony is dead,” Titan said. “As is Empyrean. Discord is gone. That leaves only you and I, Terra. And I have no scion and no wife.”

Terra swallowed. “Take me up,” she said. “I’ll be your scion.”

Titan regarded her. “I do not doubt that you would do this, despite your dislike of me and my ideals. You need to survive, after all. But I am Titan. I will have no successor. No, I have a better use for you.”

A small, black mass began to gather at the end of Titan’s horn.

Terra thought of Discord, trapped in his own mind for eternity. A single thought ran through her brain like a bolt of lightning: she needed to die. Any fate was better than that.

But Terra hesitated. Because at the same time her brain spoke suicide, her instincts screamed survive. Her single moment of hesitation lost her the only chance she had to die.

Titan had her pinned to the ground faster than Terra could react. She pushed upward with hooves that could uproot trees. Her father didn’t move an inch.

“You will be my new wife,” Titan said.

“No!” Terra screamed. She beat her hind legs against the ground, helpless. “Don’t touch me! Get off me!” Tears glistened on her face as Titan began to lower his horn.

“Please,” she whimpered. “Please please please...”

Titan’s horn touched her forehead, and the writhing mass of darkness slithered down and latched onto her face. Where it touched, Terra felt cold, dark slime. It was a nauseating sensation, and Terra felt as though Titan’s spell hated her. As though it wanted to hurt her.

Fluffy bunnies. Fluttering butterflies. Trees swaying in a summer breeze. As Titan’s spell crawled down her face and over her eyes, Terra thought of each of her favorite things in turn. And one by one, Titan’s spell purged them from her mind.

She was clawing at her face, but it wouldn’t come off. She couldn’t see, but she could feel it slithering between her teeth, over her tongue, down her throat. Terra retched, but nothing came up. Dizzy. She was so dizzy...

“Terra.”

Terra awoke.

She breathed in, then out. Nothing felt out of the ordinary. But Terra knew otherwise. Titan had done something to her. Something to her mind. Something horrible.

“You will tell me,” Titan said. “You will tell me the name of the pony Harmony made. The one with the power to reshape us.”

Terra hesitated. A million insects buzzed inside her brain, and her skin crawled. She felt like she was floating away from herself even as the psychological onslaught reached unbearable levels. Her back arched as her eyes watered. A shard of glass ran along the inside of her skull.

“Aelix!” she shouted. “Aelix Coruscare.” She collapsed back to the ground, exhausted. What had Titan done to her?

“My spell is a simple design,” Titan said. “You are soft, and you have been corrupted by the influence of ponykind. I do not need these things in a wife. I need something that they will see as a monster. So this is what I will make you, Terra.”

“No...” Terra managed weakly. “You can’t.”

“Do not despair, my wife. You will suffer, at first, but eventually you will find pleasure in this existence. And when the spell becomes unnecessary, when you have become this monster of your own volition, then it will fade. So you see, I am not taking your free will. I am borrowing it. I will give it back once you are using it properly.”

Terra curled up on the ground and began to cry. I love you. Be happy. Make the world a better place.

Titan placed a hoof on her chest. “Listen closely, Queen of the World. You will listen to every word I say. You will never try to kill yourself. You will not make yourself inimical to my plans. In fact, you will actively try to help my goals as you see them.”

The buzzing grew louder. The crawling became painful. More like burrowing. I love you. Be happy. Make the world a better place.

“You will despise everything that you are now. You will despise mortal ponies. You will take pleasure in dealing pain to others and in murder. Your only passion will be pain and cruelty, your only solace in turning your back on everything you are now.”

I love you. Be happy. After that, Harmony’s voice was drowned out by Titan’s spell.

“You will go forth into the world and strike them down, Terra. Seven of every ten earth ponies. Eight of every ten unicorns. Seventeen of every twenty pegasi. Every arcpony. Every eraterus. You will find Aelix Coruscare and bring him to me. Have I made myself understood?”

It was a long, long time before Terra could speak. “Yes, King Titan. You have made yourself clear.”

-

The penultimate chapter of The Immoral Game (formerly called Ponies Make Love), Sex, Toys, and Chocolate will be released Saturday, May 26th

The Weight Of Our Sins

The Weight Of Our Sins

A buzzing filled Rainbow Dash’s ears as a million insects crawled under her skin. Every second you disobey one of my instructions, my spell is going to take a piece of your sanity. A violent shudder wracked her body, and she hit the floor with a dull thud. How had she gotten there?

She needed to hurt Pinkie Pie. No, Pinkie Pie was her friend. Dash bit her tongue as she tried to make sense of her surroundings, then realized that she wasn’t supposed to think of herself as Rainbow Dash. She wasn’t even supposed to think. Don’t think, or it will come back and take little pieces of Rainbow Dash away and they won’t come back again. Don’t think, just kill your friends with your bare hooves. Don’t think. Just do.

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight was calling her name.

Dash staggered to her hooves and looked around frantically, her mind failing to process everything she saw. It wasn’t Twilight; it couldn’t be Twilight. It was Twilight’s prison and Dash’s jailor. It was Nihilus.

A pair of hooves grabbed her. “Rainbow Dash!” Nihilus said as she spun Dash towards her.

Uninhibited hatred seared through Dash’s veins, hot and intense. The sickening sound of a hoof hitting flesh rang out as she struck Nihilus across the face. This was the monster who made her kill Fluttershy. She was going to pay.

Nihilus reeled back as blood fountained from her muzzle. “Someone grab her!” she shouted.

Rainbow Dash wasn’t going to let anyone grab her. She was going to escape and be free and nopony would hurt her ever again. She spun away from Nihilus, coming face to face with Celestia, Luna, and her friends.

“Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy said softly.

But it couldn’t be Fluttershy. Rainbow Dash had felt Fluttershy’s pulse stop under her hooves. Fluttershy was dead, and none of them were really there, and any moment now she was going to return to the Insanity and kill the rest of her friends.

Suddenly she was staring into two glittering pools of darkness, stretching on into infinity and bringing it right back to her. She was being passed a steaming cup of hot cocoa after a frigid winter flight. She was curling up by a fireplace and stretching out her aching muscles, languishing in the feel of spent energy. All of her friends were still alive, and she was Rainbow Dash again. When Fluttershy broke her gaze, Dash’s breaths came fast and ragged.

“What’s your name?” Fluttershy asked as she stepped closer and rested a hoof on Dash’s shoulder.

Dash shut her eyes. “Rainbow Dash.” It was something she would never forget again.

Fluttershy’s voice was powerful and firm. “Where are you?”

Dash looked around at all of her friends, each of whom was gathered around a plain table that seemed vaguely familiar. And all of them were alive. Nihilus had been dead for almost a month.

The walls and floors had been stripped of anything that might make the room the least bit homely, making it look bare and uninhabited. No streamers hung from the thick wooden beams that made up the rafters, no balloons were tied to the polished banister that ran along the once-carpeted stairway. Sugarcube Corner obviously hadn’t been occupied in some time, making the ground floor a dim reminder of the happy gathering it once hosted. It was the kind of room that could feel lonely with eight ponies in it.

“Sugarcube Corner,” Dash said. “We’re in Sugarcube Corner.” She became acutely aware of the fact that everyone in the room was watching her and Fluttershy.

“Why?” Fluttershy asked.

Dash searched her brain for an answer. “Because... Ponyville is burning.” Her eyes widened. “There are dead ponies everywhere and this is the only place we can go. And Terra...” Dash’s eyes flitted around the room frantically. “Terra is hurting us...” She spun around as the memory of the fight came into sharp relief in her mind.

Sure enough, the former queen sat in an iron cage that had been stuffed into a corner. She looked tiny without wings or a horn. They’d beaten her. They’d won.

Standing next to Terra’s cage was Twilight Sparkle, a thin trickle of blood drawing itself up her face and back into her nostril. Twilight was looking at Dash, her eyes apprehensive and hurt. Dash had hit her across the face. Dash had thought she was Nihilus again.

“You brought us here to show us Terra’s memories,” Dash whispered to Twilight. “It was the closest building still standing.” Slowly, Twilight nodded. “And Titan cast the spell. The same...” Dash swallowed. “—The same spell Nihilus used on me.”

“Yeah,” Twilight whispered. “It’s exactly the same spell. I think Titan invented it.”

“Of course Titan invented it, coruscarim,” Terra said from where she lay sprawled on the floor of her cage. “Is any other mind capable of something so cruel? Other than mine, that is.”

Dash tried to slow down her breathing. “He made you kill them,” she said.

“It’s a shame,” Terra said from within her cage. “But it would appear I missed a couple. I suppose Twilight Sparkle only showed you all the... relevant memories. Watching me stumble around Saddleville or Ponytown or wherever as I try to tell them all to run would hardly be productive, would it? They never could run fast or far enough before I lost control.

“There’s only so many times you can wake up from a nightmare, feeling a limp innocent fall from your bare hooves, before you just start letting things run their course. They’re all going to die anyway, why should you have to suffer with them? But the spell doesn’t just want you to give up, it wants you to enjoy it.”

A phantom buzzing. Her skin began to tingle. Rainbow Dash couldn’t afford to forget who she was. “Stop it!” she shouted. “Stop!” She clamped her hooves over her ears, but nothing stopped Terra’s onslaught of soul-rending truths.

“But no matter how hard you wish you could just let go, you can’t. Murder is... so truly evil, and you can’t take pleasure in evil. So what’s the solution? You hate. It’s such a powerful thing. I hated my mother for leaving me with him. I hated Discord for ruining my world. And I hated my father, every second of every day. I was choking on it, so much hatred I could barely speak. Because Titan never told me I couldn’t hate him, only that I had to obey him. He knew I’d need it if he wanted me to change. Eventually, I just started hating everything, and suffering became my only release.”

Hadn’t Rainbow Dash built Wrong out of hatred? Out of her feelings of betrayal and abandonment? Dash remembered the feel of Applejack’s rope sliding through her hooves as she dropped Pinkie Pie to her death.

Terra was shaking now. “The Terra you just saw is dead. Buried beneath countless corpses. There isn’t a shred of her left inside me, and if there was I’d take pleasure in destroying it. She was pathetic, everything I despise.”

Dash stared at Terra, at Titan’s greatest victim, and realized that Terra was right. Her insanity had run full circle, scooping out the old Terra and filling her in with a monster. How long would it have taken before Rainbow Dash would have fully succumbed to the Insanity? A week had turned her into Wrong. How long had Terra suffered?

Fluttershy placed a hoof on Dash’s shoulder again. “Rainbow Dash?” she asked. “Do you want to, maybe um, leave?”

Did Dash want to leave? Would leaving really do her any good? It wasn’t like she could fly away from herself.

“No,” Dash spoke loudly so that the whole room would hear. “I can do this. I’m still part of the team. Uh...” Dash scratched the back of her mane with a hoof. “Sorry for hitting you, Twilight.”

Twilight’s face was an expressionless mask. “It’s fine. Not much can hurt me anymore, anyway.”

“Don’t say that, Twilight,” Fluttershy said.

“Sorry, did that sound bad?” Twilight said. “It’s a good thing really.” She frowned slightly. “I think. Anyway, on to the matters at hoof!” A quill and some parchment popped into the air beside her. “I’ll take minutes.”

The sight of Twilight, quill poised over a scroll, was so normal that Dash couldn’t help feel a little calmed. She found an open spot at their table, and Fluttershy joined her.

“Your highnesses?” Twilight prompted. “You two are in charge.”

Celestia nodded, then opened her mouth to speak. Twilight’s quill was scratching against the parchment before she had said anything.

“Terra should die,” Celestia said.

Twilight’s quill tore through her parchment. “What?”

Next to Celestia, Luna gave a slow nod. “I agree.”

Terra started to laugh, a slow, building cackle that upset the newborn silence. No one interrupted her.

“You all look so surprised!” Terra said between bouts of mirth. “Of course my daughters want to kill me. All of you should, too. If by this point I haven’t given you all an overpowering feeling of murderous hatred when you look at me, I’m not doing my job.”

Dash thought back to the bodies littering the town square. To the sound of Applejack screaming as she burned inside her own armor. She felt the bruises along her back aching from where Terra had pitched her at the ground.

Applejack said what they were all thinking. “Believe me, sugarcube. It’s there.”

Which made sense. Applejack spent more time than any of them among the citizenry, selling apples. Her family had been in town since its founding. She could probably call every corpse by name.

“I don’t hate you,” Fluttershy said. “I don’t want to kill you.”

Terra looked at her and let out a derisive snort. “Idiot.”

“I like the idea of murder just as much as any of you do,” Celestia said. “But Terra is dangerous, even without her power.”

“We once spared our parents to keep our hooves clean,” Luna said. “It turned out poorly.”

Celestia nodded. “If any pony deserves death, it is Terra.”

Fluttershy looked from Celestia to Luna. “But nopony does.”

Luna regarded Fluttershy coolly. “Are there any other objections?”

“Do I count?” Terra asked.

“I abstain,” Twilight said. “I can prove, through objective analysis and deductive logic, that killing Terra is the safest course of action for us.” She shook her head and sighed. “What would the populace think of us if we spared her life? But... I still abstain.”

Applejack touched the brim of her hat, then worked her mouth. She looked at Terra. “Rotten to the core,” she said. “I have a family. They won’t live in a world with you.”

Rarity pursed her lips and seemed to think about it for awhile, never taking her eyes off of the diamond she was polishing. “Abstain,” she said at last. “If we just keep her in the cage she can’t really hurt anypony, now can she?”

Next around the table was Pinkie Pie. Rainbow Dash had hardly noticed her; she had so far been awfully quiet.

“Blue moon,” Pinkie Pie said loudly. She rocked back and forth slightly, and her eyes had a haunted quality to them. “Slim chance,” she said, somewhat quieter. “Fat chance too.”

Dash didn’t understand. She looked around at the others, but none of them clued her in. What was Pinkie Pie doing?

“Tough luck. Tangerine. Silvia.”

They were names, Dash realized with a touch of horror. Pinkie Pie knew every pony in Ponyville.

Pinkie Pie kept going, her voice growing quieter and quieter until she was only mouthing the words. Dash kept watching her, trying to catch when she said Blue Moon’s name again, when she started repeating her list. She couldn’t.

“Kill her,” Dash said.

“What?” Fluttershy grabbed her by the shoulders. “Rainbow Dash, you—”

“Would have wanted you to kill me,” Dash said. She nodded as she felt the truth in her words. “I would have wanted you to kill me, if I ever became like that.”

“No,” Fluttershy whispered.

“I understand your reluctance, Fluttershy,” Celestia said as she strode to Fluttershy’s side. “You of all ponies would feel for the Terra we saw in her memories. But she is not that Terra any longer.”

Fluttershy looked up at Celestia. “You can’t,” she said. “We aren’t murderers.”

“After so many yearsit will finally be done,” Luna said. “At long last, we will be rid of her. Shall I, sister?”

From the inside of her cage, Terra sneered. “It takes the eight of you this long to decide to kill the greatest mass-murderer in all of history, even though we’re all about to die anyway. What makes you think you’ll have what it takes to beat Titan?”

Celestia’s face fell into an expressionless mask. “No,” she said to Luna. “I’ll do it.” She took a slow step forward.

Fluttershy pushed herself away from the table and threw herself between Celestia and Terra. “I said no!” she screamed. Her face was drawn back into a dangerous look, yet tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. She planted her hooves firmly on the floor.

Celestia stopped and looked down at the mare. Her expression didn’t change.

“Don’t you understand?” Fluttershy said between heavy breaths. “When are we going to stop killing each other?”

Luna broke the ensuing silence. “Fluttershy, Terra is not the mare you saw in the memories.”

Celestia regarded Fluttershy. “I understand your sympathy, Fluttershy. But this will be done.”

Fluttershy backed up until her back was to Terra’s cage. “If she could turn bad, bad can turn good.”

Celestia gritted her teeth. “It has been decided.”

“Then I un-decide it!” Fluttershy shouted. Her eyes were wide and frantic. Her voice became pleading. “We can’t just sit around and decide to kill someone. We can’t.” Fluttershy turned on Twilight. “Twilight,” she said. “Please.”

Twilight drew a long, ragged breath. “They voted, Fluttershy,” she said tiredly. “She’s a murderer.”

“So it’s right to kill a pony because it’s wrong to kill ponies?” Fluttershy asked.

“I don’t know!” Twilight shouted, banging a hoof down on the table. “Why me? Why do I have to answer that question?”

“This is the crack team of ponies that defeated me with the magic of friendship?” Terra asked. “I have to say I’m glad I’m not capable of shame.”

Rainbow Dash looked over to Terra. Terra was a murderer, yes, and they’d all wanted to kill Esteem for the same reasons. The fallen queen truly did deserve to die, in Dash’s eyes.

But she wasn’t going to leave Fluttershy to stand alone. The mare had guts, sticking up to Princess Celestia like that.

“Leave her alive,” Rainbow Dash said. Twilight shot her a look of confusion, and she added, “What? She can’t really hurt anyone, right? And we can always kill her later.”

Twilight let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. Terra lives for now. But she’s yours to take care of, Fluttershy. As for you,” Twilight said, turning to Terra. “I hope you know what you’re getting into.”

Terra blanched. “Huh?”

“I’ll pull you out if I need you again,” Twilight said.

Dash looked from Twilight, who was paying attention to Terra, and Celestia, whose mouth was held half-open, as if she couldn’t think of something to say. Had Twilight just overruled the princess at Fluttershy’s behest? She had, and that could only mean one thing.

Twilight Sparkle was now the ruler of Equestria.

The Royal Pony Sisters sat atop a cloud high above Ponyville, watching the ruddy glow of the setting sun wash over the ruined town, a warm blanket draped over a hurt foal. The buildings below were barely specks, but Celestia could still see where the picturesque small town gave way to the ruin left by Terra’s swath of destruction.

Celestia idly drew a hoof through the cloud beneath her. “They voted,” she said. “We decided Terra would die and they just... put it to a vote.”

“That may be my fault,” Luna said. “I was not the sole decision maker after we went to Canterlot, especially not after Twilight’s return.”

Celestia sighed. “She overruled our decision and gave our mother to Fluttershy. No one opposed her. I’m not exactly used to having ponies second guess my decisions.”

Luna’s horn began to give off the faintest glow, and above them Sirius appeared in the night sky, so faint it was almost invisible. “That doesn’t go away,” she said. “But we have to consider the possibility that Fluttershy might be right.”

“Wouldn’t that be something?” Celestia asked. “Terra redeemed. Titan’s first victim.”

“Terra is sick,” Luna said. “I have never seen a pony take such pleasure in pain.” She fixed the sky with an imperious glance, and Polaris revealed itself. “Still, if anypony could cure her, it is Fluttershy.”

The moment Celestia had the sun halfway below the horizon, Luna turned eastward. A faint sliver of the moon rose into the sky.

“I’ve always wanted them to take more autonomy,” Celestia said. “But this is not exactly the ideal time. They’ve had impeachment clauses for the past thousand years, elected officials, public forums, but they’ve always deferred to me. I’ve always wanted them to be able to rule themselves, to choose, but now...”

“What if they choose wrong?” Luna asked.

“What if they choose wrong?” Celestia said. “Twilight and her friends don’t know Terra as well as we do. We have the benefit of age. And we’ve seen a world they can’t even fathom.”

Luna looked down at Ponyville, and Celestia followed her gaze to the rubble that buried the town square, still smoking in places. “They’re closer to fathoming the old world than you or I are willing to admit,” Luna said. “And if they choose wrong they will suffer the consequences and learn.”

Celestia watched the last sliver of the sun fall below the horizon, glad to see the end of another miserable day of war. “And in a hundred years, when every pony alive now is dead, will the lessons they’ve learned be forgotten? Are they doomed to make the same mistakes over and over again?”

“Perhaps,” Luna said. “But we will be there to guide them.”

“Unless we die tomorrow,” Celestia said.

“Unless we die tomorrow,” Luna agreed. “I must admit, dear sister, that the odds do not seem to be in our favor.”

Celestia could have laughed at Luna’s understatement. The odds weren’t just against them; they were paltry. Insignificant. “Even if we win,” Celestia said. “The chances of both of us surviving are... slim.”

“I’m aware.”

The cloud beneath them was now the deep blue-grey of the coming night, and Celestia knew that if she were a mortal, she’d probably be feeling cold by now. She leaned her head against Luna’s side. “I wish we’d had more time together.”

“So do I. We spent so much time fighting. Each other, Discord, each other again. We were only really sisters when we were children. It seems like... a waste,” Luna said finally.

Celestia fixed her gaze on the ruins of Ponyville once again. “A waste,” she agreed. “I wish you could have seen more of the world I made.”

Luna gazed out over the landscape. “I know.”

“It wasn’t perfect, but it was still so much more than either of us had hoped. I thought it would be hard to take the war away, but ponykind just has so much good in them. They made it so easy.”

Luna gave a slight tilt of her head, as if considering Celestia’s words. “They adapted to war quite easily.”

Celestia scoffed. “Did you see them in there? They don’t have much fight left in them, if they have any. I’m glad it’s our fight now. I’ve put Twilight through enough.”

More stars were flickering into view as the pale orange light of the sun faded. “You did what you had to,” Luna said, her eyes on the sky.

“And she’ll never forgive me for it.”

“Give it time,” Luna said. “Ponykind used to despise and fear me. They still do, but not nearly as much as they once did. Every day I fight with them, their feelings of dislike ebb. Change is slow, Celestia. You of all ponies should know this.”

“Oh?” Celestia asked, her eyes twinkling with subdued mirth. “When did you get so wise?”

Luna shrugged, never taking her eyes of her work. “Too much time with the six. It’s odd: the love and gratitude of the citizenry used to be all I wanted. But now that I believe that what I’m doing is right, it doesn’t matter to me. All I care about is Titan’s defeat.”

“We don’t have time,” Celestia said. “Barely a day.”

“Unfortunately, you may be right,” Luna said.

“It isn’t fair,” Celestia whispered. The sun’s dying light drained the color from the world around them. “I just got you back. Everything was going to be perfect. We were going to rule together in a new golden age. And now Titan’s come back and destroyed everything I built over the past thousand years.”

“Celestia,” Luna said, pressing her muzzle against Celestia’s neck. “You and I made our peace. We put decades of war behind us. We’re fighting for what is right. We’re fighting for ponykind. We’re fighting against Titan. We’ve done all that we can, and now there’s only one thing left to do.”

Celestia looked up at the myriad stars that now spanned the night sky. “What’s that?”

A faint smile touched Luna’s lips. “With any luck? Succeed him.”

Rarity was working.

The feel of the needle gripped with her mind, the taut pull of the fabric—these things did more to relieve her than any spa, any massage could ever do. Pinkie Pie’s armor lay on her bed. The Boutique had been gone for two months now, so Rarity was making do with the tools the Cakes had around the house. And as she worked, she sang.

“Thread by thread, stitching it together,

Pinkie’s rig, linking all the straps to fit just right,

Making sure the magnets pull nicely

Underarmor has to fit so tight

Otherwise she’ll risk taking some shrapnel,

Leaving lots of room for her new grapnel

I’m fixing Pinkie’s rig”

An effort of will, and Pinkie’s rig was pulled apart into its components, then began to rotate in the air as Rarity examined the areas that needed patching. Had she ever had so much focus before the war?

“Inch by inch, we get a little closer,

One more god, Sweetie Belle I’ll be back soon I swear,

And you’ll never know about father

I’ll make sure you live to be a mare

Titan won’t succeed in making us his

Because a secret truth of our new world is

That even gods can die

Bladecasting’s easy,

It’s thinking of you that’s hard

Blood makes me queasy,

It’ll ruin my robe; make...”

Rarity frowned. “Hmm,” she said. “Sleezy, cheesy, uneasy? Make me feel all uneasy? Make my friends feel uneasy?” She should have picked an easier word.

“You can sing,” Pinkie said.

Rarity turned to find Pinkie Pie standing in the doorway to the room she’d lived in for years with a shell-shocked look about her. Pinkie’s eyes moved from Rarity to the her old bed, covered in pink blankets and pillows, then on to her rig. “I can’t sing anymore,” she said finally.

Straps and canisters clattered against one another as Rarity gently set Pinkie Pie’s rig down on the bed. “At first I could only hum,” she said. “But it came back.”

The floorboards creaked as Pinkie Pie stepped slowly into the room. “How can it come back?” she asked. “Nothing will ever go back to the way it was. Not without Blue Moon, and Slim Chance, and Fat Chance too...” Pinkie sat down and screwed her eyes shut.

“Oh my,” Rarity said, striding over to where the mare had started to rock back and forth. “Pinkie Pie, darling, come here.” Rarity put her forelegs around the mare and tried to steady her. “It will be all right. We’ll win.”

Pinkie Pie began to sob, her chest heaving against Rarity’s side. “It doesn’t matter if we win,” she wailed. “They’re all dead and Twilight doesn’t smile and Rainbow Dash is so hurt...”

“Pinkie Pie!” Rarity snapped. Pinkie blinked away her tears as she looked up at Rarity. “Now you listen here.” But what could Rarity say? Things were never just going to go back to the way things were.

“We aren’t fighting to make things go back to the way they were,” Rarity said. “We’re fighting to survive.”

Terrible, Rarity thought to herself. That was absolutely terrible. How is that going to cheer up Pinkie Pie? “But when this is over,” Rarity continued as she saw the stricken look on Pinkie’s face. “We will remember the dead.”

Ugh, now I sound like a soldier. “We’ll rebuild all the buildings that they knocked down, you understand? And we’ll make Twilight smile.”

Pinkie Pie snivelled. “Y-y-you really think so?”

“Of course I do, Pinkie Pie.”

Pinkie swallowed thickly. “Pinkie Pie swear?”

Rarity stopped. Could she Pinkie Pie swear that things would get better? Did she truly believe that they would? Pinkie Pie stared at her as Rarity tried to think, her face slowly breaking into anguish once more.

Rarity believed that some dresses—such as anything made of gauze, were fragile and prone to tearing. Sometimes a ruined dress could be patched, or tattered pieces replaced. But sometimes they couldn’t. Sometimes a dress was beyond repair.

Those times were frustrating, but they were also rewarding; they were a chance to make an entirely new dress. The flaws of the precursor could be taken into account, and every design idea she’d had making the first dress could be incorporated into the second. Rarely had Rarity failed to design a dress that was not more fabulous, more awe-inspiring, more beautiful than the first.

“Pinkie Pie swear,” Rarity said, her voice firm and unwavering. “Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye. Nothing is so broken it can’t be fixed, Pinkie Pie.”

Pinkie Pie sobbed once, drew a hoof across her wet nose, then looked up at Rarity and smiled.

Rarity smiled back. She did so love making dresses.

“Why won’t she stop staring at me?” Terra asked from within her cage on the ground level of Sugarcube Corner.

Fluttershy looked back at Rarity, who had pulled up a chair and soundlessly examined Terra for the past ten minutes. “Her talent is beauty,” Fluttershy said. “And you’re very pretty.”

“I’m aesthetically perfect,” Terra said. “I was built with your sense of visual appeal in mind.”

“No,” Rarity said. It was the first time she’d spoken since she’d sat down. “Not perfect. You were prettier in your memories. But even now you are very beautiful. On the outside, that is.”

“Inner beauty?” Terra raised an eyebrow. “How precious. Do you also intend to show me the goodness of the world with the power of heart? I’ve seen what ponies are on the inside, child. It isn’t pretty. It’s mostly water, actually. But it never fails to come out red.”

“I’m leaving,” Rarity said, standing. “I don’t see why you bother spending time with her, Fluttershy.”

Fluttershy sighed. “I want to help you,” she said as the door swung shut behind Rarity.

Terra gave her a lazy smile and sprawled out against her cage bars. “Is that so?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Terra shivered. “Can you make me a god, little pegasus?”

“No.”

Terra waved a hoof dismissively. “Then I don’t exactly see how you can help me.”

“You were good once.”

Terra sneered like a predator expecting a fresh meal. “And that means what, exactly?”

“You can be good again,” Fluttershy said.

“You think you can make me a princess again? No. Certainly not in a day.”

Fluttershy shook her head. “Not in a day. But maybe someday.”

“You only have a day,” Terra said. “Titan will regain his full strength soon. If you think you or I will live see the sun rise the next morning, you are insane, little pegasus.”

Fluttershy paused before whispering, “I’m not a pegasus.”

Terra stood and leaned against the bars of her cage, her eyes narrowing. “Eraterus,” she hissed. “How could you possibly have survived?”

“I don’t know,” Fluttershy said. “But I’m alive and... and I don’t know what I am.”

Terra grinned. “Is that so?”

Fluttershy swallowed. “I used to take care of the animals,” she said. “But Titan made it so that they won’t listen anymore. And I can stare at something and take their choices away. And I heal, and I think I can sing...”

“Don’t.” Terra shivered again.

Fluttershy frowned. “Don’t what?”

Terra shut her eyes. “Don’t sing.”

Fluttershy tilted her head. “What makes you think I would sing for you?”

Terra’s eyes opened to narrow slits. “It would hurt me,” she said, as though that explained everything.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Terra.”

“You should. Or have you forgotten all the ponies that they’re burying right now because of me?”

“I don’t want to kill you, Terra.”

“And why not?”

“Why would I?” Fluttershy asked. She let out an exasperated sigh. “Murder makes murder right? Please listen to me, Terra. Nopony has cared about you for so long. I thought that maybe if I cared, you’d at least have a second chance.”

Terra wrapped her forelegs around herself. It almost looked as though she was cold. “Are you really so broken?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“What are you trying to prove by sticking by me, eraterus? Why do you need to convince everypony that you’re so good and pure of heart? Do you want them all to see that you’re better than they are?”

“N-n-no!”

Terra sneered. “Or is it that you do it for selfish reasons? Are you just trying to convince yourself that through all of this, ponies are still good? I have terrible news for you, eraterus: they aren’t.”

“You’re wrong!”

“They were good when they were happy,” Terra said. “When Celestia had them living in ignorant bliss. You act like this new world is broken. It’s fixed. This is the way things are supposed to be. This is, as Titan would say, the—”

“Don’t!” Fluttershy said. “Don’t say it.” She refused to believe that the animals were supposed to run from her in fear. She refused. “Are you cold?”

Terra gritted her teeth. “It’s night,” she said. “And it’s almost autumn. I’m cold because it’s cold.”

“Really?” Fluttershy asked. “I feel fine.”

Terra started to rub her hooves together for warmth. “You’ve been at the mercy of heat for all your life. I’ve been a god. I’m not used to feeling anything but perfect. Now I feel like a wet paper bag.”

“Did it hurt?” Fluttershy asked. “When we took it away?”

“Yes,” Terra said. “And it wasn’t you who took it away. It was Twilight Sparkle. You and your friends are just a set of batteries.”

“I’m sorry.”

Terra barked out a laugh. “For what?”

“Hurting you. I know that if Twilight could have made it easier for you, she would have.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Terra asked. “How can you not see what it took me seconds to realize? Your precious godling is so methodical, so reasonable, so in control. When it comes down to it, she’s just cold, hard logic. Maybe when she looks at you there’s equinity in her eyes. Maybe you can watch it slowly leaking away as she kills her enemies one by one. But when she looked at me, right before she invaded my mind? Nothing. No pity, no hate, just the job she needed to do.”

“Twilight isn’t like that.”

“Twilight is Titan, my little pony. She’s a dark god waiting to happen. The weight of this war is going to make her collapse in on herself and—”

Fluttershy interrupted Terra with a voice that was perfectly calm. “Why are you doing this?”

Terra flashed her an innocent smile. “Doing what?”

“Trying to upset me. It isn’t very nice.”

Terra shrugged. “Cruelty, I suppose. I want to hurt you. It’s what I do. It’s who I am.”

Fluttershy didn’t answer Terra. Instead she stood up, turned around, and flew upstairs.

“You’re proving me right!” Terra called out as she left. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

Fluttershy found the Cakes’s linen closet, grabbed the thickest blanket they had, then brought it back downstairs. Terra gave her a peculiar look as she passed it through the bars.

“Why?” she asked, eying the blanket suspiciously.

The faintest smile touched Fluttershy’s face. “Kindness, I suppose. I want to help you. It’s what I do. It’s who I am.”

Terra looked from the blanket to Fluttershy. Suspicion seemed to melt into confusion on her face. Terra looked at Fluttershy, her face uncomprehending, for a very long while.

Then she started to cry.

It didn’t come out all at once, and Terra’s first sobs were not very loud. Rather, her body trembled as she clumsily pulled the blanket toward herself with her hooves. She blinked hard, then blinked again, then shut her eyes entirely before tears started to roll down her face. She looked for all the world like a mare desperately trying not to cry.

“Go away,” Terra said weakly. “Don’t look at me.”

“You need somepony, Terra.”

Like a little filly, Terra tried to pull the blanket over her head so that she couldn’t be seen. She failed. Fluttershy guessed she wasn’t used to using her hooves.

“There’s no one,” Terra whimpered. “She died. He killed her. And I’ll never live up to her expectations.”

“Shhh. I’m here.”

Terra swallowed. “Will you...?” She didn’t finish her sentence.

Fluttershy didn’t need her to. She got up, moved next to the cage, and reached through the bars to take Terra up in her hooves. Sometimes all a pony needed was to be held.

Terra punched her in the throat. The attack was so sudden, so unexpected, that Fluttershy didn’t even have the time to cringe. One moment she could breathe, and the next she couldn’t.

Terra threw herself forward, grabbed Fluttershy’s mane in her teeth, then struck Fluttershy’s forelegs with her own. Fluttershy’s legs were thrown back, and she lost her balance. Terra dropped down to lie flat on the floor, then kicked a hind leg out to knock Fluttershy off her hooves.

Fluttershy spun as she fell, and Terra’s forelegs wrapped their way around her neck before she hit the ground. It was all so well coordinated, so flawlessly executed, that she didn’t have time to react. One moment she was offering Terra a hug, the next Terra had both forelegs wrapped around her and was using a hoof to push her neck into the stranglehold.

Terra’s voice was venom in her ear. “Erateri can have enough earthpony magic to rival even the earthponies themselves. And as you’re undoubtedly the apex eraterus—possibly the only one still alive—that means that you’ll survive this. Which is why when you stop breathing, I’m going to cradle you to the ground, pull you close, and beat your head to a bloody pulp with my bare hooves.”

Fluttershy flared her wings and beat her hind legs against the floor in panic. What had happened? Terra had lied. Terra had lied and Fluttershy had fallen for it. She tried to pull herself free, clutching at Terra’s forelegs, but it was to no avail—her strength didn’t matter when Terra had all the leverage. She couldn’t meet Terra’s eyes to use the stare. She couldn’t open her mouth to sing—but what good would that do anyway?

“Who do you think is going to find you?” Terra asked. “Which of your friends is going to walk through that door and see the mess I’ve made? I hope it’s Pinkie Pie; she seems so cheerful. Or maybe the rainbow one, who thinks that gods are something to be fought. Perhaps the earthpony; she seemed so close to breaking.”

A blue glow as deep as midnight encased Terra’s forelegs, and they were peeled away from Fluttershy’s neck with a deliberate slowness. Fluttershy threw herself away from the cage as soon as she was freed, taking in a rasping breath that stung her throat as it went down. She looked up to see a set of familiar hooves on the floor before her.

“You think that they’re weak,” Luna said. “That their compassion makes them powerless.” She stepped past Fluttershy to stand in front of Terra’s cage.

Another choking gasp tore its way down her bruised throat as Fluttershy turned to see Terra, suspended in the air before her daughter.

“Their compassion is what put you in that cage,” Luna said. “And their compassion is what will free you. Because no matter how much hatred you have inside you, Terra, Fluttershy alone has enough love to smother it.” Luna took a step closer and let Terra fall back to the floor. “Is Titan himself capable of such a feat? You and I both know the answer to that question, mother. There’s only one pony with true power in this room, Terra. It isn’t you. And it isn’t me, either.”

Terra pushed herself to her hooves, trembling, and wiped a foreleg across her mouth. She locked eyes with Fluttershy, her gaze one of pure loathing. “I hate you,” she said. “I hate you for not hating me.”

Luna took her eyes off of Terra. “I would think, Fluttershy, that you have done enough for tonight. Do you have a place to stay?”

Fluttershy realized that Luna was asking if her house had been destroyed or not. She nodded, not willing to speak through her damaged throat.

“Good,” Luna said, fixing Terra with a dispassionate glare. “Then let us leave my mother to her thoughts. I’m sure you’ve given her quite a few of them.”

“I’m sorry my mother tried to kill you. Are you all right?”

Luna was in Fluttershy’s cottage at the edge of Ponyville. They all had to stay somewhere, after all. Rainbow’s house was taken by her and the pegasi. Applejack’s farmhouse was built to cater to large crowds, and she, Pinkie Pie, and Spike were looking after the rest of the army. Sugarcube Corner held Terra and Rarity. Twilight would stay in the library.

A kettle sat heating on the stove—Fluttershy was going to try and soothe her throat with tea. Luna sat serenely in the center of the living room, and Fluttershy reclined on the couch under a blanket. She’d offered Luna one, but apparently the princess didn’t get cold.

“I shouldn’t have let her touch me,” Fluttershy rasped through her damaged windpipe.

“Perhaps,” Luna said. “But if redemption is possible, your actions alone will sway Terra.”

Fluttershy curled up on her couch and pulled a blanket over herself. “Do you believe that?”

“That redemption is possible?”

“Yes.”

Luna nodded. “I have to. I was once a hate-filled tyrant, Fluttershy. I killed more ponies than you have met in your entire life. Not either of our minds together could comprehend the lives that I have destroyed.”

Everypony she had ever known. Parents. Friends. Classmates from flight school. The mail pony. All of them dead twice over. Luna was right—Fluttershy couldn’t comprehend death on such a scale. “You’ve saved us, too. We would have lost to Nihilus if it weren’t for you.”

“I am not concerned with balancing the scales, Fluttershy. If I have a hoof in defeating Titan, then they will be forever in my favour, but that does not mean that I cannot do evil. If Titan destroys us, then my deeds will have meant nothing, but that does not mean that I did not stand for good.”

“D-do you think... do you think we’ll win?”

“I don’t know,” Luna said. “Celestia and I together are strong. But Titan alone is a primordial force. He has always used agents to carry out his will. I fear what his direct intervention will bring.”

“It’s sad that he’s so alone,” Fluttershy said.

Luna couldn’t tell if she was being serious or not. Sympathy for Titan? “Hardly alone,” Luna said. “He likely has every creature in the Everfree under his control.”

Fluttershy sat up abruptly. “The creatures?”

Luna gave a curt nod. “Titan controls something or he destroys it, and the Everfree is the model of his natural order. I imagine that by now every living being, from the smallest carnivorous splinter beetle to Exakktus himself, is now under Titan’s control.”

“Exakktus?” Fluttershy asked.

“Exakktus the Black. The largest, oldest, and most powerful dragon alive. I saw him last over a thousand years ago.”

Fluttershy’s eyes widened. “Titan has a dragon?”

“Indeed,” said Luna. “It has been said that Exakktus is as big as a village. That his wings can smother the sun itself. His flames appear as roiling black smoke, thick and dark as ink, and his horde is as much the charred and twisted bones of his victims as it is treasure. His scales are as dark as Singularity, and his heart cares only for death and dominance. His maw—” Luna stopped. “Have I said something to frighten you, Fluttershy?”

Fluttershy was pale and shaking, her eyes wide and her pupils diminished to points. “I’m afraid of dragons,” she whispered.

“I see. Have no fear, Fluttershy. Even in my youth, I could match Exakktus in battle. I slew his brother, Firkraag the Red, with the help of a knight named Valiant. He used the severed head to propose to my would-be murderer, Astor Coruscare. Also, his blade, Carsomyr, ended up in the possession of Rarity’s father Esteem. Small world. I imagine Exakktus would do anything to add that sword to his horde.”

Fluttershy swallowed. “Anything?”

“Dragons live for treasure, Fluttershy. Possessing the sword that slew Exakktus’s only equal would show that he has surpassed Firkraag once and for all. And it is not as though he can add Nadir to his horde.”

“Luna,” Fluttershy whispered, “do we still, um, do we still... have the sword?”

In that corner, the forces of evil.

One dark god who had supposedly seen the creation of their world. Titan, who had never lost to an enemy before. His power was something quantifiable—Twilight’s best estimate put him at somewhere around three thousand, four hundred years old. Alicorns were born with a set amount of magic that increased linearly with age, so it was easy to determine what Titan might measure on the Coruscare scale and apply the result to unicorn and earthpony magic as well.

But it was more than raw power. What spells did Titan know? How did he fight? Did he even know how to fight? After all, what use had Titan ever had for skill in battle when his only true rival had apparently been Discord? According to Harmony, he wasn’t just good—he was the best. She’d said she’d never seen him lose. But lose what? Against whom?

Then there was the matter of his alicorn magic. Celestia had a gift with fire. Luna could weave shadow easier than Rarity could cloth. What kind of spells came naturally to Titan? Mind magic? Control? He’d already demonstrated a remarkable ability to become undetectable—but Harmony had demonstrated remarkable abilities in spades.

Too many variables. The forces of evil had power, but it fell within such a wide range that it hardly bore thinking about.

And in the other corner, what would have to pass for the forces of good.

Luna, Celestia, and a smattering of ponies so weak in comparison as to be negligible. The princesses were what, a little more than a thousand years each? Then there were the Elements of Harmony. Friendship wasn’t the strongest magic in the world, it was just the key to Harmony’s superweapon. And Titan could pick his dead wife’s magic apart with hardly a thought.

It didn’t add up. Not with only Luna and Celestia, not including Twilight’s godslaying archspell. There was no artifact to sweep in and magically save the day anymore. Twilight had finally learned the truth of the Elements’s origins, and it had awakened her from a happy dream and dropped her into a grim reality. And the reality was that they were certainly going to lose.

Twilight picked up a duster with her magic and began to run it over the Ponyville Library’s many bookshelves. They’d accumulated much grime in the time she’d been away, but with the end of the world looming, dusting wasn’t really a priority task. Staying busy was.

It was night out, and the only light came from a couple of candles situated around the room. They cast a faint glow about the library, hardly enough to see by, but Twilight wasn’t really paying attention to see if her duster missed any spots anyway.

It struck Twilight as odd that even now she was afraid to die. After all she’d been through, dying was certainly the least of her worries. And yet here she was, a scared little filly about to face the end of everything she held dear. Despite all her apparent power, she was nothing before Titan. Luna and Celestia weren’t much better off.

The door to the library creaked open, and Twilight turned to see Princess Luna stride into the room, the flickering candlelight causing her shadow to dance against the wall. “Twilight Sparkle.”

“Princess,” Twilight said tonelessly.

The clatter of the shutting door was the only sound that followed. Luna regarded Twilight, her face almost statuesque, before walking over to what seemed to be a randomly selected bookshelf. “You have lost hope,” she said, examining the books.

Sweep. Twilight’s duster cleared a layer of grime from a half-empty shelf. “You can tell.” She’d meant it to come out a question; instead it sounded like a flat accusation.

“I suspected,” Luna said. “Your mind is... not unlike Celestia’s, and she has been having similar troubles.” Luna’s mane licked at the bindings of half a dozen books as she spoke, a second sky reaching out to touch whatever it could.

Sweep. At the mention of Celestia, Twilight stiffened a little. “Are you here because of her?”

“No, Twilight Sparkle. I am here for you. You despair.”

Sweep-sweep. A layer of dust was sent to the floor. Later, Twilight would have to clean it too. “Despair? Do I look like I’m despairing right now?”

Luna stepped away from the bookshelf and turned toward Twilight Sparkle. “You do,” she said. “Not the despair of a pony watching her house burn to the ground, but a different sort. A cold, lonely kind of despair. The despair of a pony standing in the ashes. It is a kind that I am not unfamiliar with. Why are you here alone, Twilight Sparkle, when you could easily be with your friends?”

Snap. The handle of Twilight’s duster shattered, each wooden shard tumbling to the floor. Had she been holding it that hard? “We’re going to lose.” Twilight’s voice was low.

“So you won’t spend your last night alive with them?”

Twilight’s breath caught in her throat for the slightest instant. How could she explain herself? “They’d... expect optimism. But I know better. How can I look at my friends and be happy when I know that we’re going to die?”

Luna blinked. “I see.”

“It’s okay.” Twilight’s voice wavered. “We’ve... we’ve had some good times. Even after Titan they were still always, always...” Twilight swallowed. “—there for me.”

Luna gracefully trod over to where Twilight stood staring at the broken shards of her duster. “Why do you think we’ll lose?” Luna asked.

“Math.” Was Twilight’s answer. “He’s stronger than all of us put together by a significant margin. He has more power.” She lifted her broken duster into the air and floated the fragments over to a garbage bin.

“Power?” Luna said. “There is your mistake. This world is not one to be won by war, Twilight Sparkle. Power is not the only thing that determines the outcome of a conflict. Remember that.”

Twilight’s mouth twisted into a grim frown. “I’ve yet to see any evidence to support that, Princess.”

“Then consider your math error,” Luna said. “You failed to account for the magic of friendship. That puts our side ahead by quite a large order of magnitude.”

“The magic of friendship?” Twilight asked. “Friendship is just a... a trigger condition for Harmony’s weapon. And it’s a weapon that’s useless against Titan!”

“Friendship is not useless.”

“It’s useless here!”

Luna brought a hoof down on the library floor, shattering hardwood like it was paper. “Listen to yourself, Twilight Sparkle!”

Twilight drew back as splinters flew through the air around Luna’s hoof, then swallowed thickly.

“How could you of all ponies possibly believe that there is no magic in friendship? After all that it has helped you accomplish, after all that you have seen! Go to your friends. Look them in the eyes, talk with them, laugh with them, and tell me if lifting a duster is more magical than what you feel, truly feel, in your heart. Friendship is a force, Twilight Sparkle.

“Love. Wonder. Happiness. Titan has none of these things. If you allow him to take ours, then you give up our only advantage. If we are going to win, it will be for our intangible virtues, not brute force. Magic, real magic, the kind that I use to raise the moon, cannot be fought.”

Twilight stared at the floor, trying as hard as she could to understand what Luna was telling her. “And I’m here in the library, alone,” she said at last. “I’m losing hope when they need me most.”

Luna leaned down, and her flowing mane sent a cool breeze over Twilight’s face. The princess looked almost... indistinct, in the candlelight. As though she truly were an object of shadow, vulnerable to the faintest flame.

“You are not alone, Twilight Sparkle. I am here.”

Twilight sighed. “Do you know how many townsponies I spoke to today? Ponies who’d lost loved ones, their homes, everything. Ponies who used to know me, and now they act like I’m their saviour, despite Celestia’s return.”

“You are a talented leader, Twilight Sparkle. They do well to put their faith in you.”

Twilight turned on her heels and began to pace, avoiding the new hole Luna had made in her floor. “I might be a good master general,” Twilight said. “But I’m not infallible!”

“I know, Twilight. We can’t ever hope to deserve the trust they give us. But we can try. And if any pony deserves their faith, it is you. You are not the distant moon or the fallen sun. You are one of them, and you understand them, far more than my sister or I ever have. You have shown yourself willing to risk everything for them, and when you truly accept the mantle of leadership, you are... inspiring.”

Luna’s eyes grew distant as the flickering candle flames played within them. “You make others want to be... better. More than what they once were. The effect that you can have...” Luna pulled her hoof from the broken floor and set it down on solid ground. “I believe that you can build a better future for ponykind. And I believe that you have inside you the very soul of Titan’s undoing. I have faith in you, Twilight Sparkle.

Luna reached out, cupped Twilight’s face in her hooves, and their eyes met. Twilight stared into her nebulous turquoise orbs and felt a vague tinge of familiarity. Luna spoke again, her voice consumed with determination.

“Prove. Me. Right.”

Ponykind was a drift of infinitesimal dust, billowing about his hooves on the winds of blind chance. They dared to call it a victory when he did not sweep them aside.

Titan sat. It was not a position he assumed very often. The shattered plateau of the Dark Heart of the Everfree Forest spread out around him, sundered by the clash of gods. The verdant forest stretched out around the plateau, ignorant in its serenity.

They were ants, and emboldened by their capacity to lift a weight ten times their own, they were trying to move a mountain. But Titan was immovable.

Titan stood, walked three paces,and looked down on the exact center of the plateau. He drew a hoof across the ground, brushing away dust and pebbles to uncover the smooth rock beneath. A touch to the stone, and a slight ripple of power disturbed the air, tearing leaves off the trees around the broken mountain. It returned to him in moments, carrying the character of a magic he had long since forgotten to feel.

A savage raged against a thunderstorm, unaware of the titanic conflict the elements waged within. What could one pony, one unenlightened brute do to end the churning tempest? Twilight Sparkle would rage, and the lightning would come. But would her death suffice, or did her transgressions call for true retribution?

Titan’s gaze pierced stone and earth and spell, seeing for the first time what he had buried in an aeon past. Twilight Sparkle dared to wield Harmony’s magic against her King. He would use Harmony’s magic against his subjects.

The earth shook.

They were wretched parasites, crying out against the very being that had given them life and earth and order. Their crushing insignificance, their debilitating simplicity had fascinated Harmony. They forever craved the demands of their design, and so the ghost of intellect with which they were gifted attributed to these things higher forms so as to justify their primitive pursuits. Love, for companionship. Morality, to guide their herd mentality. Peace, as an assurance of survival. As if they could comprehend true morality. As if Titan had not already given them peace.

The false plateau cracked and broke beneath him, the sound loud enough to break mortal ears. The earth seized, and trees were torn free from the earth, their roots snapping as dirt cascaded from their forms. Titan ascended.

Harmony had succumbed to their false beliefs, turning to them for guidance rather than the very tenets by which she and Titan had ruled. Through her, ponykind had killed Titan’s son, and eventually Harmony herself. Even as Titan had bought them real peace by defeating Discord.

The arms of The Citadel were now distinct. They heaved their way out of the ground around him, each carrying a thousand tons of broken stone and soil. A small effort of will, and Titan blew most of the debris away. He folded his wings and set his hooves down on the shards that rose to receive him for the first time in a millenia and a half.

They were cosmic dust caught within the pull of a star. They could not even comprehend the being that they reckoned with, and they did not understand his divine providence. Twilight Sparkle led them. Twilight Sparkle was the most ignorant of all.

Titan began to ascend, the elementary white of his magic filling the sigils of the shards wherever he stepped. The remaining debris was annihilated and recycled as The Citadel came to life. Harmony’s greatest creation. Next to Empyrean, that was.

They were machine beings, worth only the matter that composed them. The drop of divine blood in all of them had caused them to malfunction as intellect warred with instinct to create a hybrid monstrosity. Was reducing them to their base state the only answer left?

Simultaneously, each petal-like arm of The Citadel met its neighbors, sealing Titan within the metal tower. He continued his climb to the uppermost ring at a leisurely pace. He was in no hurry.

Terra was gone. No doubt killed by Twilight Sparkle and Harmony’s last, wretched gift to ponykind. Had Twilight Sparkle taken her power? Would Twilight Sparkle meet him in battle alongside Celestia? Were they so infected by pony ideals that their basic arithmetic could fail them that much? Did they truly hold on to hope?

Titan reached the summit, and his horn burned like a star brought low. The walls of The Citadel were lit with his power, and the great spell shaped itself in his mind. Each ring formed from the floating shards beneath him, and a single beam of white light shot skyward.

High above Titan, a wave of energy travelled outward from the point where the beam met the sky. The first spell was the call. Each creature he had tamed in the Everfree would come to him, and each of them would take part in the slaughter.

Another wave. The second spell was the storm. Let the savages bring themselves to bear against his might. Only Titan could tame the feral elements, now.

The final wave did not come, for the final spell would take time. Such was its magnitude that Titan himself could not have cast it without The Citadel to provide the design, to deliver his magic to the world.

He had decided that ponykind could be salvaged. Genocide was beneath him. Instead, despite all their resistances, ponykind would be fixed. The final spell would kill only the things that made them weak, only the things that made them imperfect servants of the divine authority. When it was finished, they would fit perfectly into the natural order.

No freedom. No will. No love. No morality. No hope.

Could a more perfect world be imagined?

Titan had not always been alone. He had once been imperfect. But ponykind had taken his companions from him, and in the stark emptiness that followed he had seen his true place in the natural order. As its master.

Now they would be empty, too. They would thank him, once he showed them how. And they would worship him, once he gave them their expectations. They would see that companionship was a waste. That Titan had been right all along. Not the other way around.

But for now they would come for him. Twilight Sparkle would come for him. They would wade through a sea of their own ignorant imperfection, and when they finally reached Titan, he would drown them. He would drown them all. Even his daughters.

The king was the strongest piece. The only piece that mattered. The piece that bore the burden of both victory and defeat. The piece that was the avatar of the player himself.

And in all of creation, from the hot and screaming birth of the universe to the unfathomable end of time, from the edge of the cosmos to the center of the most massive, seething star, from the youngest god to the heart of every living pony, there was only one true king.

-

The End Is Near

A thanks goes out to The Prereaders

The End of Harmony

The End of Harmony

The Citadel thrust into the sky over the Everfree Forest like a platinum spear. Light blazed along its edges in complex sigils, and a beam of white energy shot forth from its point. A massive thunderhead had begun to gather above, lit from within by the shaft of light. Somewhere within that fortress of metal and magic, Celestia knew Titan waited.

All along, The Citadel had been buried beneath the Heart. The very place of Titan’s imprisonment was the place he had hidden his queen’s greatest creation, and Celestia had never known. Why not raise it before now? Had Terra’s failure prompted him to wield even Harmony’s magic?

Even as Celestia watched Ponyville from on high, she felt her power burn within her. She’d shed Titan’s affliction in mere minutes, presumably at the same time Titan had shed his. Divinity had returned to her in force. The invigorating surge of might was accompanied by something else, too—a kind of thrill. The fear of defeat, the prospect of victory, and the inevitability of the coming conflict combined within her to create a keen anticipation.

No intermediaries, now. No insulation to prevent the gods themselves from striking against one another. The moves that had brought them here were irrelevant, and now all that mattered was the pure and simple truth that this was the end. Celestia had played the immortal game for long enough, and now, gods would die.

Three waves of Titan’s magic had coursed outward over the landscape after the Citadel had appeared, and each of them had served to drag Celestia further out of her reverie and towards clarity. The time for idle moping about, for self-pity and regret, was done. Now was the time for action. Now was the time for Princess Celestia, Ruler of Equestria.

Celestia scattered the clouds beneath her with a thought and tucked in her wings. Wind rushed past her face, but did nothing to disturb her ethereal mane as she dove toward Ponyville.

The town went from the tranquil slumber of a village in the late hours of the night to a panicked hive of activity within minutes. Celestia could make out pegasi moving from house to house, awakening occupants and carrying hasty messages. On the ground, earthponies and unicorns ran to and fro: a throng with no real directive. More ponies were moving towards the center of the town from the outskirts, travelling inward on the beaten paths and gravel roads that led to Ponyville’s outlying farms and cottages. It was clear that nopony had taken charge.

They had all migrated towards the town square. Fragments of the shattered buildings had been swept into their respective foundations to keep the clearing free of debris, and now the citizens stood between the walls of wreckage.

Celestia wreathed herself in fire just before striking the pedestal that had once held a statue in her own likeness. Her impact drew every eye that could see her as it shattered stone. She stood, towering above her little ponies as the flames intensified until they bathed the square in the light of the dawn.

The townsponies drew away, and when they looked back, Celestia was clad in an incandescent set of golden earthpony warplate. A wreath of burning flames sat atop her head. Fire licked at the edges of her wings and blazed from the depths of her eyes. Celestia spoke, for once letting loose her full alicorn voice so as to reach the ears of every pony from the square to Sweet Apple Acres.

“Prepare for battle!”

They didn’t wear the faces of children.

Twilight’s friends stood in the impromptu command center that was Sugar Cube Corner. They didn’t look nearly as young as the day Celestia had met them at the Gala. The set of their jaws, the subdued way they glanced to one another—these ponies were soldiers. They were ponies out of another time, now.

And that change was embodied in Twilight, stony faced, the only pony wearing their battle gear. Twilight never took her uniform off. She couldn’t even if she wanted to.

“So...” Applejack said, “I’m guessin’ this is about the giant doom fortress?”

“Indeed,” Celestia said. "Titan has regained his full strength and is making his move. He has already raised The Citadel, sent out a call to rally the forest denizens, and now summons a magical storm over the center of the Everfree"

“Will the creatures fight for him?” Fluttershy asked.

“Perhaps not all of them,” Celestia said, “but the inhabitants of the Everfree are not known for their love of ponykind, and Titan’s will is not something to be withstood. He has most certainly told them to stop us from doing what we are about to do.” Celestia met Twilight’s eyes. They both nodded.

Rainbow Dash looked from Celestia to Twilight. “Uh... what are we about to do?” she asked.

Twilight took a deep breath, then began to talk at a brisk pace. “The first and second waves that Titan sent out from The Citadel were easy enough to decipher. The first called the animals; that’s why it was so weak when it came to us. The second was pegasus magic. It’s drawing together a storm big enough and strong enough to tear apart a city. The third....”

Celestia picked up where Twilight left off. “The third was unicorn magic, but it didn’t do anything. It felt like Titan was dipping his hoof into the water, so to speak. A precursor to something big.”

Twilight nodded. “Something that Titan needs time to accomplish. Something he can’t do by himself.”

“He needs The Citadel,” Celestia said. “Not only as a method of delivery, but because it carries Harmony’s designs.”

“He has the delivery system,” Twilight said as she began to pace around the weathered table. “He has the instructions. And he, of all ponies, has the power.” Twilight nodded to herself, then looked up at Celestia. “He’s going to put us down. All of ponykind dies. Is that right, Princess?”

Everypony except them fell into silent awe as Twilight looked to Celestia. Had they truly not understood the severity of the situation? Celestia realized that they had barely met Titan. How could they have known that he was capable of genocide, even against the race created in his own image?

Capable, yes, but Titan would see other options. Options that to his mind would seem even more merciful than mass murder. And more convenient.

Twilight studied Celestia’s face and seemed to confirm her fears. “Empty sky,” she whispered, “but I only have one night of this left in me.” She closed her eyes. “Go ahead, Princess.”

“Luna and I will meet Titan in combat,” she said, “as planned.”

A shadow stepped out of the corner of the room. It resolved itself into Princess Luna, mane flowing, clad in an ethereal robe of pure black. “This should be an interesting fight,” Luna said.

Interesting. Optimism from Luna was still a little jarring.

“Which leaves you with the army,” Celestia said to Twilight. “Sir... Unimpressive and Buttercup are organizing them now. You will take them through the Everfree to The Citadel while Luna and I hold Titan’s attention. And then you will need to find a way to enter The Citadel.”

“From there,” Twilight said, “I can unravel whatever counter-enchantments Titan has established, as well as whatever Harmony has in store for us. Then we can use the Elements to stop whatever Titan is brewing. They can’t hurt him, but if anything can pack enough punch to break his spell, it’s them.”

Rainbow Dash’s gaze was moving between Twilight and Celestia. She finally settled on Twilight with a look of abject disbelief. “Wait wait wait,” Dash said. “We’re just going to go under the storm? You can’t put a pony under that storm.”

Twilight turned to her. “No?”

Dash shook her head. “That system will tear trees out of the ground, Twilight. We have to stop it!”

“That storm is huge, Dash! You couldn’t break it up even without Titan’s enchantments turning it feral.”

“I can do it,” Dash said.

Twilight shook her head. “Dash...”

“I can do it, Twilight. But I’ll need all our pegasi.”

Celestia watched the two of them, wondering if Twilight’s ignorance had been feigned. Had the mare learned that well? “If that’s what it takes,” Celestia said. “We don’t have much of a choice either way. Even without the storm, getting to the Citadel will be hard. The Everfree is home to some vicious creatures.”

“Not some,” Fluttershy said, her eyes distant and unfocused. She looked up at Celestia. “Too many. If Titan has even a little bit of them it will be too many.” Fluttershy nodded to herself. “It will be too many,” she whispered. She nodded again. “I have to go.”

Fluttershy looked up at the ponies collected in the room. “I have to go,” she said loudly. “I’m going to speak to Exakktus and convince him not to attack us.”

Celestia looked at her as if she’d suggested suing Titan for peace. Applejack spoke first.

“Uh... what?”

“Exakktus,” Luna said, moving to stand beside Fluttershy. “The largest dragon in the world. If he defies Titan then many of the other monsters will have second thoughts. Or at least, that’s the plan.”

Twilight looked at Fluttershy. “The plan? You two planned this?”

Twilight raised an interesting point; Celestia had thought Luna would share all her plans with her sister. Apparently not, although it wasn’t as if Celestia had been entirely honest lately.

“We did,” Luna said.

“Fluttershy, darling, didn’t you just say that Exakktus was a...” Rarity cringed as an uncertain noise escaped her lips. “A dragon?”

Fluttershy nodded. “Mhmm.”

“But you’re scared of dragons,” Pinkie Pie said.

“Mhmm.”

“Exakktus is cruel and proud,” Celestia said. “He won’t listen to whatever you have to say. He’ll swallow you whole.”

“He’ll listen,” Fluttershy said. “We have Carsomyr.”

The name rang a bell, but Celestia couldn’t quite place it. “...Slayer,” she said at last. “Valiant’s blade.”

Rarity frowned. “Esteem’s blade.”

“Both, actually,” Twilight said. “Valiant killed Exakktus’s brother with that blade.” She looked up at Celestia. “Would a dragon care enough to risk its life over a weapon?”

Celestia weighed the likelihood in her mind. “Hoard instinct. It’s possible. Play on the dragon’s natural tendency toward defiance and his desire for reknown, and be careful.”

“Be careful?” Twilight shouted. “You want to let her go?”

“It’s a good plan, Twilight.”

Twilight shook her head. “You can’t be serious!”

“I am. This is Fluttershy’s decision, in any case.”

“Twilight,” Fluttershy said, placing a hoof on Twilight’s back. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not!” Twilight cried. “If you’re off on your own, none of us can protect you.”

“The chances of success make this worthwhile, Twilight,” Celestia said.

Twilight’s hoof cracked against the table. “Chances? You’re asking her to die!”

Celestia stomped a foreleg, and the floorboards shattered beneath the force of the blow. Every mare in the room drew away. “I am asking all of you to die!” Celestia shouted.

No one spoke. Had none of them understood that that’s what they were doing? That risking their lives was what they’d been doing since the night Titan returned? Or maybe they just didn’t care. Even at their young age, each of them was closer to death than Celestia had ever been. What could dying mean to these mares, in the face of a world ruled by King Titan?

Twilight broke the silence. “Fluttershy... always comes through when you need her. Good luck, Fluttershy.”

Fluttershy blinked, then set her shoulders. “Oh, thank you, Twilight! I won’t let you down.”

“If we’ve accounted for Exakktus and the storm, then it’s time,” Celestia said. “Twilight will lead the forces we have left into the Everfree.” She remembered the dozens of ruined buildings surrounding the square. “They’re in need of an inspiring speech, I think.”

Twilight swallowed. “A speech? But I can’t speak without notes, or cue-cards, or...”

“It’s fine, Twilight. I will speak through you.”

“Through me?” Twilight asked. “Why not just speak yourself?”

“Because I am not leading them into battle, Twilight. They’re your soldiers.”

“But—” Twilight worked her mouth. “If I just say what you tell me to, that’s dishonest.”

Celestia sighed. “It is,” she said. “But we won’t tell them anything that isn’t true by itself, we’ll just make sure they hear it from somepony that they’ll listen to.”

“Not lying to them,” Twilight said. “Just making them listen. Is that it?”

Celestia drew a deep breath through her nostrils. “I know you hate me, Twilight.”

At this, Twilight’s friends made a collective sound of puzzlement and looked at each other, as if searching for an explanation. Celestia guessed they’d known nothing about the fight. Why would Twilight hide something like that from them? They were her friends.

“I know you hate me,” Celestia repeat. “I know you think I’m selfish and manipulative, and you’re right. But even you must see that the world can’t be all truth, Twilight. At least not tonight.”

Twilight regarded Celestia. Could she have figured it out? Certainly, she was smart enough, but still, Celestia found it unlikely. What was Twilight thinking, with her face a mask of cool dislike and her eyes so intent on Celestia?

“Alright,” Twilight said at last. She nodded, then turned to her friends. “Suit up and meet me outside,” she said to them. Twilight took a deep breath. “Let’s go kill our elder god.”

The army was almost ready.

Or rather, what was left of the army. Between the dead and wounded from the Battle of Canterlot, not many ponies had made it to Ponyville. Less than eight hundred. At that point the army probably had less fighting strength than Twilight and her friends working in concert. It was a harrowing thought.

They gathered on the edge of town, forming ranks in their respective units as Unimpressive and Celestia shouted orders. Twilight would be leading every one of them into the Everfree. Twilight would be asking each of them to die, if need be. How could Astor Coruscare have ever enjoyed this?

“What happened to Astor?” Twilight asked.

Luna stood next to her, clad in a simple robe of shifting magic so black it devoured light. Even looking at it made Twilight’s peripheral vision dim. Luna looked down at Twilight. “Do you really want to know, Twilight Sparkle?” she asked.

Twilight looked off into the distance, at the looming metal structure that lit the sky with a beam of focused energy. “Yes.”

Luna sighed. “Astor had a son with Valiant after they left Celestia. And Astor loved him like she had loved nothing else. She decided that he would grow up in a better world than the one she had left him. So, when Celestia and I overthrew our father and crowned ourselves rulers of Equestria....”

“She came for you,” Twilight said.

“Me, specifically,” Luna said. “Astor believed that it was ponykind’s nature to make war, and that Celestia and I were no different. If both of us ruled, we would eventually come to a disagreement so great we’d go to war over it, and ponykind would suffer through another dark age. But if both of us died, ponykind would be trapped in an endless cycle of kings and queens, reigning, then dying and leaving an empty throne to be fought over. But one alicorn could rule forever, undisputed.”

“She picked Celestia.”

“She did. Astor told Celestia that she would rule alone forever, and then she fought us to the death.”

“But there were two of you,” Twilight said. “And you were both—”

“Nothing. Compared to her we were nothing. Astor invented our perceptions of warfare, Twilight. You know exactly how she fought. Add twenty years of experience to that. She made sure to point out that we couldn’t even defend ourselves, let alone a kingdom.”

“So how’d you survive?” Twilight asked.

Luna sighed again. “I suppose I can’t make things any worse between you and Celestia, can I?”

Twilight felt a chill. “Why?” she asked. “What did she do?”

“She lied to Astor in order to take her will away. Sangrophile went out.”

Twilight considered this for a moment. “She took Astor’s will away? How? Astor was the best bladecaster in the world.”

“And would thus have her mind closed to any ideas that could break her resolve, yes. But I suspect Celestia played on their prior relationship in order to undermine her stance. Regardless, Astor was no longer fighting just to kill, and so Celestia was able to put her blade out for several seconds and subdue her. Despite all her ability, Astor was still just a unicorn, and so without her blade she was easy to overcome.”

“Her blade only went out for several seconds? She got it back so soon?”

Luna looked at Twilight an arched an eyebrow. “Of course. Have you never been wrong before?”

Was Luna serious? “Of course I have,” Twilight said.

“And when you realized you were wrong, did you do so in an instant? Did you suddenly see the error of your ways and turn on what you thought before? Or did it take time?”

“Time, obviously. It took time.”

“Precisely,” Luna said. “A pony cannot change what they believe in an instant, Twilight Sparkle. In fact, the most common reaction to evidence that contradicts them is to strengthen their defenses. When I commanded Terra’s armies, I lost faith for the first time when I looked down at a dead colt who had no cutie mark. It wasn’t enough to change who I was, but it was enough to make me feel the faintest shadow of doubt, if even for a moment. And that, Twilight Sparkle, was the first step. Celestia made Astor take that first step.”

“And then she killed her?”

At this, Luna seemed perplexed. “Of course not. She merely subdued her. I wanted to kill her, but Celestia insisted we let her live, a decision that would end up saving many lives when Discord returned. But let us not talk of Discord when a greater foe is at hoof. Here are your friends.”

Or at least, four of her friends. Fluttershy had left as soon as possible—Exakktus wouldn’t be in his lair for long. Rarity looked pristine as ever in her white robe, Knight-Commander of the Order Nocturnus. Applejack wore her titanic warplate under a hat that Twilight couldn’t believe was still in one piece. A tight-fitting set of skypony barding hugged Rainbow Dash’s lithe form, sky blue with prismatic trim. Pinkie Pie bounced along beside her wearing—whatever it was that Pinkie Pie wore.

“Twilight, darling,” Rarity said as soon as they were within earshot. “You can’t give a speech with your mane looking like a... well, er... whatever that is. Come here, dear.”

Twilight grudgingly obliged, allowing Rarity to pick at her mane. “The army is almost ready,” she said. “Which means that we’re about to go. We’ll be at the front. Except for Dash, who will be in the air handling the storm.”

“Speaking of,” Dash said, her voice trembling. Twilight followed her gaze toward the Everfree forest, where a wave of wind and water was shooting towards them.

“Incoming!” Dash shouted.

Hundreds of ponies hit the ground simultaneously. Twilight sensed nothing magical about the rain, so she just put up a simple forcefield. The water hit them travelling almost horizontally, and the wind was strong enough to topple an unprepared pony. It passed in moments, leaving only a thin coating of moisture in its wake.

“That storm’s hitting phase two,” Dash said as soon as the spray was over. “Not awesome. We’ve gotta move, Twi.”

“Ponykind.”

Titan’s voice hit them harder than the storm. It was smooth and deep as always, but it still had that sinister undercurrent, that sound that made Twilight feel like she was chewing glass.

“Habitable worlds are not simply forged by cosmic circumstance. I forged it for you. Your base components do not grant you life. I gave it to you. I kept you safe from Discord, from the empty dark, and from yourselves. I gave you everything.”

If Titan was at the center of the Everfree Forest, then he was vocalizing over kilometers. Was he using the Citadel for that, too? Or did he simply not care that the spell he was using had a cubic power to distance ratio?

“This is how you repay me. You killed my son. You killed my wife. You throw the world into chaos. I am your god, and I will hold you accountable for these actions. I will take from you that which makes you such worthless, dissident creatures: your free will.”

On the ground, almost everypony in the army was covering their ears. Twilight resisted the urge to do the same only because she knew it wouldn’t help. She wondered if Titan’s plan was just to keep talking, and pin them all down at the edge of the forest until his spell reached completion.

“There is no mercy within me, ponykind, but there is reason. Prove to me that you can act in tandem and in service to a greater ideal and I will let you keep your ability to comprehend. If you submit, if not a single pony enters the Everfree on this night, then your capacity to understand will be granted to you.”

A pause, almost as if Titan was thinking. “Except for you, Twilight Sparkle. You will come to me, with Luna and Celestia, and you will answer for your transgressions.”

Twilight waited, but no further words came. Eventually the members of the army began to get to their hooves, looking around as if having woken from a dream—or in this case, a nightmare. She let Titan’s words sink in. Surrender herself and ponykind could live within the natural order.

She cast herself through space to the forefront of the army, a space reserved just for her in front of and alongside Princess Celestia and Luna. Twilight looked out at the ponies who they’d rallied to help them save the world.

They were a sad looking, scared lot. Wet from the miniature rainfall and shivering against the chill end-summer’s night, they looked up at Twilight, eyes full of expectation. She was supposed to inspire them. She was supposed to give them their happy ending.

She stood there, a deep blue suit covering her body up to her neck. A cloak of starlight draped over her shoulders to bunch and fall off to one side. A violet halo of protective magic sitting in the air around her ears.

Titan’s words had been spoken to divide them, that much was obvious. But why? Was it that he didn’t want to rule a race of mindless husks? Or was it something else? Slowly, as Twilight considered his message, a smile broke out on her face.

“He’s afraid.” Her words were quiet, just loud enough that most of the crowd would be able to hear them, but not understand. They leaned in a little, just as Twilight intended.

“He’s afraid!” she said again, this time loud enough that everypony could hear. “Two days ago Queen Terra attacked Ponyville and was defeated. Titan doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know how we’ve fought this long, how we’ve made it this far, despite all of his supposed power.” Twilight allowed herself a little laugh. “He thinks it’s because of me. Because of Luna. Because of Celestia. It isn’t.”

Twilight looked out at the crowd, meeting the eyes of several ponies before continuing. “It’s something greater. Something inside all of us. It’s nothing that can be taken, or killed. It’s where we get our hope. Our love. Our cutie marks. And it’s magic.”

Her voice softened. “Titan can break our houses and burn our towns. He can kill our loved ones and shatter our world. And he has. He’s done all of these things. But he cannot break the bonds that tie. He cannot take away what makes us ponies unless we let him. And that terrifies him. It fills him with a fear so profound it’s enough to make him ask for peace, because he knows that our magic is enough to bring him to his knees.

“Our magic!” Twilight shouted. “Real magic, is what brings gods low! I have seen it, felt it, beheld the majesty of miracles worked by its accord! And I see it now, in the eyes of each of you. So I ask now:

“Ponykind!” Twilight’s voice echoed through all of Ponyville, reverberating off of every structure still standing. “Is Titan your king?”

Hundreds of voices cried out, “No!”

They could have been louder.

Twilight looked over her shoulder at the entrance to the Everfree. Twisted branches clawed towards them out of pitch darkness, almost inviting them to their death. She turned back to the army. “Beyond those trees,” she said, “is every creature out of nightmare that has haunted the darkest corners of your mind. Every horrible monster that would see Titan king!

“We will feel fear!” Twilight cried. “But we are not Titan. We will feel fear so that we can show courage!”

Twilight paused, and her army cheered, beating hooves against the ground as the sound reached Twilight’s ears.

“We will die!” she shouted. “But we are not one being; we are a race of individuals unto ourselves. Alone we will die so that together we may live!”

The roar of the army was loud: so loud that it had not died down by the time Twilight spoke again. That was fine; this next part was going to be loud regardless.

“Ponies!” Twilight bellowed. Her mane broke into a nebulous cloud of energy and swirled about her face as a wind carried her cloak to blow about her shoulders. “Make war! Make war not to kill our enemies, but to put an end to the darkness that has befallen our world! Titan made us in his image and gave us only pain and death and violence, and that is all we will unmake him with in kind!”

The wall of sound that hit Twilight was enough to disturb her ethereal mane. She drew Equinox out of thin air, channeling power to make it burn bright as a newborn star. Celestia and Luna both drew the air around them against their bodies and shot away into the night sky, leaving in their wake trails of frost and fire.

“Go now!” Twilight shouted. “To The Citadel!”

Cheering and screaming, the last of ponykind’s army overtook Twilight and galloped off into the Everfree Forest. Somewhere in there, Twilight knew her father ran with them. The pegasi stayed behind, held at bay by Rainbow Dash’s outstretched hoof. They formed a ring around her on the ground.

“Listen up!” Dash shouted. “That storm will tear the whole forest apart, and our army with it, unless we do something about it!”

Spitfire half-flew, half-leapt to Dash’s side. Twilight noted that she was wearing her Wonderbolts outfit, something she’d never done in the field before. Maybe she felt like dying a Wonderbolt, tonight. “You’d need five thousand pegasi to break up that storm, Rainbow Dash,” Spitfire said.

“Yeah,” Dash said. “Which is why we aren’t going to break it up.” Her face lit up in an arrogant grin. “We’re going to move it.”

Spitfire cocked her head. “Can we move it? I... don’t know very much more than the basics when it comes to weather.”

Dash nodded, as if she had expected this. “Moving this storm is going to be dangerous!” she shouted to the assembled pegasi. “But danger is my middle name.

“What about you, pegasi? What are your middle names?”

Dash was immediately answered with a chorus of: “Danger!”

“Well ain’t that a mighty coincidence,” Dash said. “We split into two groups and a vanguard! I take front with units three, five, sixteen! We’re going to counterspin...”

Dash gave orders that Twilight didn’t quite understand in full. She had a basic working knowledge of meteorology, but not full-on weather pony training. She did manage to gather one thing, however, from Dash’s plan.

Rainbow Dash was moving Titan’s storm to the one place where there were no members of ponykind. She was moving it to Canterlot, which Twilight had ordered evacuated almost three days ago. There wasn’t a kilometre of space between Canterlot and Ponyville not occupied by refugees except for the city itself. Dash intended to break the storm against Mount Avalon and lay the capitol to waste rather than put any of them in danger.

Twilight approved.

When she was done, Dash moved to stand before Twilight. “Hey, Twi? That speech you gave was... pretty awesome.” Hey, we might die.

“I’ll see you again, Rainbow Dash.”

Dash swallowed, her back to the pegasi. “Yeah?” she asked.

Twilight nodded. “Yeah. Unless you somehow transcend the speed of light and freeze yourself in time. Now fly.”

Dash jerked her head once in agreement, then pulled her blade from her back and assumed a takeoff position. She threw her head back.

“Thunder and lightning!” she cried.

A hundred pegasi answered her. “Wings and steel!”

Twilight was buffeted by the winds of their takeoff. Her eyes followed a rainbow trail as it arced toward the Heart of the Everfree. She had to admit: Dash had a pretty cool battle cry.

The Everfree Forest was dripping wet and near pitch black as Fluttershy made her way to Exakktus’s cave. Each fall of her hooves squelched in the newborn mud, and it wasn’t long before pushing through the vines and branches had her soaked. High above, Titan’s storm rumbled, threatening to unleash the wrath of the heavens at any time.

It was difficult for Fluttershy to move quickly. Every time her hooves sucked against the mud of the forest floor, she cringed at the noise, but she knew that flying would be more dangerous, given the dense tangle of brush that was barely visible above her head. She saw shadows flicking between the trees, heard the occasional sound of a branch bending toward the ground to release a torrent of water. Each disturbance made her want to stop, to creep forward even more slowly, but she couldn’t. Time was running out, and so Fluttershy moved through the Everfree as fast as she could—which meant on her hooves, in a straight line, and with her eyes focused on the path directly in front of her.

There were things watching her, she knew. Things that ate meat, things that ate bones. Creatures of the night that would happily kill her just for stepping into their territory. Savage animals that would tear out her throat and pull her to pieces and feed them to their young...

Fluttershy whimpered as she lost her grip on a branch and it swung forward to hit her on the nose. Her muzzle stung as she drew back, but she pressed on nonetheless. It was a branch, just a branch. She couldn’t afford to get scared by a little branch.

She had to keep going, because she had to reach Exakktus’s lair. She had to convince the world’s biggest dragon not to kill them using nothing but the saddlebags she wore on her back. She had to do it, because... because...

Because they couldn’t. Or maybe they could, but they all had better things to do anyway. What would Fluttershy do in the Battle of the Everfree? She couldn’t kill a creature, not even if it was bearing down on the ponies she loved. It just wasn’t in her, the kind of strength that the others had. Fluttershy had another kind of strength.

The only creature she’d ever wanted to kill was Titan. At the time, it had been so easy to say it. We’re going to kill him. She remembered the lightness of Empyrean’s form as she held it against her body. How wrong his neck felt, bending away from his collar at such an odd angle. Titan had killed his own little boy. Did that mean he deserved to die? Fluttershy couldn’t make that decision. She’d been hysterical at the time.

Was she going to become hysteric now? Would she break down in fear, submitting to the creatures of the Everfree, long before she ever reached Exakktus’s cave? Fighting her own fear was easier when she thought of her friends, but thinking of her friends made Fluttershy even more aware of the fact that she was alone.

A low, sinuous hiss drifted out from behind a nearby bush. Fluttershy wasn’t alone. Not nearly.

Whatever silence she had gathered to herself vanished as she began to run. Her hooves set muck splattering, and branches began to snap against her chest and face. She could barely see the ground ahead of her, but that didn’t stop her from charging on. True, she could trip, but that was a small risk to take compared to being swallowed whole.

A wet, slithering sound reached Fluttershy’s ears as she ran across the underbrush. She didn’t turn around to see what it was. From the noise of snapping branches that followed from its pursuit, it was bigger than her. Definitely big enough to swallow her whole.

It never got the chance. It caught up to Fluttershy, but just as she felt the brush of fangs against her flank, a cacophonous explosion of wood and soil knocked Fluttershy to the ground. The heavy thud of the earth against her side sent dull pain coursing through her body, and several moments passed before Fluttershy regained her senses and scrambled to her hooves.

The giant snake that had been chasing her—for that was what it was—had been pinned to the ground, a manticore’s scorpion-like tail through its neck. The beast hunched over the snake, maw dripping blood, as it shook a hunk of flesh it held between its teeth. It looked at Fluttershy as the dying snake thrashed against the ground, pinned by a lion paw.

Its eyes simmered with more than just predator instinct when it saw Fluttershy. The manticore loathed her, she could see the wretched emotion written on its face. The hunk of snake meat fell from its mouth, forgotten.

Fluttershy realized that she was shivering. “Please...”

The manticore released a feral roar as it flared its wings, and flecks of blood spattered Fluttershy’s face. She stumbled back, caught her footing, then turned and ran. This wasn’t another manticore with a thorn in its paw. Had Titan done something to the creatures, or did they just hate her that much?

Fluttershy pumped her wings as she galloped over the forest floor, doing everything she could to move as fast as possible. Was the manticore faster than she was? Could it tire her out? She heard its paws pounding against the forest floor as she went. Was it just her, or was the sound getting louder? Closer.

What was worse, it was soon joined by more pursuers. Shadows slid against shadows in the darkness of the Everfree, and soon a host of noises joined the manticore’s fevered rush. Paw beats echoed dully through the wood, louder and deeper than the sound of Fluttershy’s hooves. The scratch of claws against timber came from above her, accompanied by eerie, howling wails. More slithering whispered against the underbrush, and the beat of wings heralded a shrill, raucous caw.

“Please,” Fluttershy said to herself as her blood pounded in her ears. “Please please please...”

She was beginning to tire, the taste of metallic bile on her tongue and the muscles in her hindquarters growing tight, threatening to seize up at any moment. She tripped over a branch and almost went to the forest floor, but barely recovered in time to hear the branch into a dozen pieces with a loud snap.

She could turn and fight, but how? All the others were so good at war now, but Fluttershy had never learned to do anything. She’d never wanted to hurt another living creature. Applejack would spin in place and kick them away with her titanic strength. Rarity would cut them to ribbons with her glittering blade. What could Fluttershy do?

Nothing. Because even if Fluttershy could have killed every creature that screamed through the forest on the back of her hooves, hungry for her blood, flesh, or just the thrill of killing, she wouldn’t have. It wasn’t in her, and that was something she’d be proud of even as she died.

No sooner than had she made that decision, her hooves left the muddy forest floor to sink into cool, damp ash. Fluttershy’s forelegs collided with something hard—another branch?—and she was thrown to the ground headfirst. Her face hit the ash, kicking up a cloud of it and causing her to sneeze violently as she scrambled back up to her hooves.

It was then that she noticed that every sound in the forest had stopped.

Tentatively, Fluttershy looked over her shoulder. They were all still there. The manticore, with its dripping red maw and hateful eyes. Harpies, with their scaled skin and their slitted eyes and their lips pulled grotesquely over a set of pointed teeth. Teeth for tearing. Timberwolves, their gnarled wooden bodies tense and rigid, their eyes gleaming. A snake as thick around as a pony, uncoiled and poised to strike. None of them moved an inch as they watched her. None of them stepped onto the ash. It was as though rather than a change in topography, they stood upon the edge of a great precipice, and to take a single step further was certain death. Which, Fluttershy supposed, it probably was, considering what she had tripped over was a bone.

Ash. Bones. The monsters of the Everfree too afraid to continue. None of the tense fear Fluttershy had built up was released, and her heart beat even faster as she turned, panting, to behold the entrance to lair of Exakktus the Black. The mouth of a cave loomed before her, a maw that was dark and lifeless compared to the Manticore’s gore-slick teeth. Above-ground, Exakktus’s lair was little more than a giant mound of overgrown rock, but Fluttershy knew the cave went deep down into the earth.

With no way to turn back and a terror fueled by the thought that she might fail her friends, Fluttershy took a step forward. She trod across the ash, her hooves kicking up the dry layer that sat beneath the damp surface. Her hooves struck bones that rested beneath the soft particles, and she shuddered.

The thoughts struck her just as Fluttershy reached the massive maw of the cave. What had the ashes been? What was it that she was tasting on her tongue, wiping from her eyes, feeling stuck to her fur? And with a striking clarity, Fluttershy knew with a certainty that it wasn’t trees.

She staggered to the edge of the cave mouth coughing and spitting and doing whatever she could just to get them off of her. She tasted bile once again, and didn’t even try to stop herself from vomiting into the pooling ash, holding herself steady against the stone with a hoof as she retched. You can’t do this. You can’t do this. Oh, empty sky!

Tears carved paths through the ashes that clung to her face and spattered against the dead dust below. “I can’t do this,” Fluttershy sobbed. “It’s all dead, and it’s a dragon, and I can’t even hurt anything. It’s everything I can’t do and I’ll fail all my friends...”

Fluttershy sniffed. “I’ll fail all my friends. I can’t. I can’t do that.” She swallowed. You have to go in. Because being afraid is part of being a pony and it’s a part of you. And the only time you can be courageous is when you’re terrified.

Fluttershy still felt the bone-chilling, body-numbing fear of dying, of failure, of her friends never seeing her again while she blew as ashes around a cold dark cavern. She still heard every instinct screaming at her to run away. But she took a step inside the cave, because she knew that those things weren’t going to go away or get easier to handle. Of course she was afraid. There was a dragon. But while dragons might have been her greatest fear, they were also something of a specialty.

The ash thinned as she descended, but it never gave way. Soon enough, almost all the light went out of the world, and Fluttershy was left to wander alone through the pitch darkness, with nothing but the sound of her hooves sifting through the dust of the dead to accompany her.

Down, down, down she went, stumbling through the darkness and sliding on the fractured stones beneath her. If she lost her footing and didn’t recover, how far would she fall before getting her bearings and taking flight? How far to the end of Exakktus’s cave? Was there an end?

What there was was a dragon, the largest and oldest in the world. Would he listen to a word she had to say, or would he simply turn her into ash? How long until Fluttershy found him? Was he watching her now?

The ground beneath her began to level out, and it wasn’t long until Fluttershy set a hoof down not on ashes, but on what felt like coins. The dragon’s hoard. He had to be nearby. She closed her eyes, though it didn’t make any difference in the pitch darkness. “Exakktus,” she said.

She strode further onto the pile of treasure, wings ready to steady her should she lose her footing. “Exakktus!” she said, louder now.

What if the dragon had already left? What if Fluttershy hadn’t been fast enough, and they were already at war? “Exakktus!” she shouted. No, this couldn’t be right. She couldn’t be too late. She wouldn’t fail her friends. “Exakktus!”

He moved.

Fluttershy couldn’t see a thing, but she could feel him. Sense his massive scales sliding over the stone around her as the oldest dragon in the world became aware of her presence. She heard him, a booming sound that set her teeth on edge.

Fluttershy swallowed. Exakktus was big. She was small. What was she going to say?

If his movements were like stones sliding against one another, his voice was like a mountain being ground into dust. “You are new, pony.”

An eye opened not ten feet from Fluttershy, as big around as she was. It glowed red with an inner light, illuminating the ridges around it. It was Exakktus. He saw her.

Run! Fluttershy’s instincts screamed. This was a predator who would crunch her bones under his teeth as easily as she might bite into a stalk of celery.

His voice rolled out through the cavern, sharp consonants that were cracking boulders and vowels that boomed like thunder. “You are not Titan,” Exakktus said. “You are not Celestia. No godhood. Food.”

Food. It echoed around the cavern, lodging itself somewhere deep inside Fluttershy’s mind, right next the voice that was screaming run. Fluttershy trembled.

“Wait. I’m here to... t-t-to talk.”

“I know why you are here, little pony,” Exakktus said. It was like the cave itself had been given a voice, his words were so deep and guttural. “You would have me refuse to fight. This I will not do. Die now.”

Fluttershy felt air rushing past her, over her, and realized that Exakktus was inhaling. She saw a glow ahead, a dim pinpoint of angry red light that could only be the fire gathering in his throat...

“Wait!” she screamed. The light disappeared to be replaced by his eye once more. “You aren’t even going to tell me why?”

Exakktus’s words had an edge of impatience. “Why. What.”

Fluttershy clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering. “Why you hate us,” she said. “Why you want to kill us.”

Exakktus grumbled, and it was the sound of a millstone bigger than a house. “I am a dragon,” he said. “I burn. I eat. I kill. Destruction is my way, and you are in my territory. I once sat atop a black reign of fire that spanned the whole of the Everfree Verge, a terror to all ponykind. Then came your sun princess, a foe that cannot be fought. She confined me to this forest, where I have reigned from ever since. It will please me to once again lay ruin to living ponies. So seldom do knights come to slay me here.”

“I don’t want you to stay out of the fight,” Fluttershy said. “I want you to fight with us.”

“Heh.” The short laugh sent a tremor through the ground. “But if Titan wins, then we will return to the old ways. I will be allowed to roam over my old territory.”

“If Titan wins,” Fluttershy said, “there won’t be a ponykind anymore. He’s going to turn us all into puppets. What will be the point of killing us then? You won’t be stalking prey, you’ll be harvesting crops.” If Titan wins. Don’t think about that, Fluttershy. Think about anything else. Even the... Fluttershy swallowed. Even the dragon.

Exakktus grumbled again. “This is true,” he said. “I have felt his quelling spell building. Ponies were not the greatest prey in any case. I long to hunt again the colossal beasts of the northern mountains. The dragons of the borderlands. I wish to set the world on fire, pony, and you would confine me to this pitiful forest.

“It used to be vast,” he rumbled. “We once had more. But your sun princess is shrewd and wicked and cares only for her people. A respectable being, as it were. We have dwindled, and my glory has dwindled with us.”

“But... b-but you kill each other!”

“It is our way!” Exakktus cried. The cave seemed to shake. “Do you think that any of this forest’s inhabitants have not pondered civilization? They could cross the threshold and live in your world if they so chose, but they stay. It is who they are. You think I am a monster, pony, but you do not see the wisdom that has come with my age. We have been stifled, suffocated by the rule of your sun princess. There was once another princess.”

Fluttershy’s breath caught. “Another princess?”

“Yes. She did not try to rule us. She embraced our way, and the creatures of the Everfree loved her. She treated all denizens as she would her own young, and defended us from the idiot, Empyrean. But she was not soft. Her enemies met a savage goddess when they came upon her, and she would tear them limb from limb.”

“Terra,” Fluttershy whispered. “She’s still alive! You can have your princess back!”

“No,” Exakktus said. “She is... different, now. A dog gone rabid. Then leashed.”

“Because of Titan,” Fluttershy said. “Titan made her that way. Titan took away your princess.”

“Celestia took away our territory.”

“What if...” Fluttershy swallowed. “What if I could give you some back? The tundras to the north aren’t very populated. W-w-we could move. And then you’d be be able to get to the mountains. And the borderlands aren’t too far from there...”

“No,” Exakktus growled, his eye narrowing. “A dragon is not given his spoils. He takes them!”

“Then t-take them from Titan, with us!” Fluttershy said. “The world is his right now. Take it back with us, and we’ll divide the spoils.”

“An interesting viewpoint,” Exakktus said. “I would have territory once again, even if we can never have another princess.”

“There’s more,” Fluttershy said, turning around to fumble at her saddlebags in the dark. She reached in and grabbed their only contents—a single, chevron-shaped piece of sharpened platinum-iridium. “Carsomyr,” Fluttershy said as she tossed the blade shard to land with a light chink against the treasure pile. “It’s yours if you help us.”

The eye continued to regard her as the sound of claws scraping against treasure resounded throughout the cave. Exakktus raised the shard, so tiny compared to his digits, and examined it with his eye. “The blade that killed my brother,” he said at last. “I have sought this for a long time, but dragons do not bargain for treasure, pony. We take it.”

“I didn’t bring the other thirteen pieces,” Fluttershy said.

“Clever.” The shard, as well as Exakktus’s claw, vanished. “You seek to bargain with me. You offer me things that I long for in exchange for my aid against Titan. You do not ask for much, only that I change sides and kill an altogether different army. You have done more than I expected you would, being food.”

Fluttershy swallowed. “So... you’ll help us?”

Another grumble, like a granite thunderstorm threatening to break. Exakktus seemed to ponder her question for a moment, and then:

“No.”

No, no, he said no. Run, run, run for your life. He’ll reach out and pick you up in claws as big as a wagon and break you apart with teeth longer than kitchen knives. “No,” Fluttershy said. “B-b-but...”

More stirring around her, more grinding of scale against stone. Exakktus was moving, unfurling a body as big as a mountain.

“You made an interesting case, pony, but you forgot something. I am not a dragon who values only treasure and territory.”

They eye shifted before her, and again Fluttershy found herself looking into the hellish glow of his maw. She caught the silhouette of a row of teeth. To Exakktus, she was barely larger than a kernel of popped corn.

“I have lived for many years, and it is a life that I value. I am no fool. You will lose, pony, and Titan will win. Not all of you together have the power to defy Titan. I alone would not change this. Allying with you would only serve to doom me to Titan’s wrath. That you are here in the first place only shows that you are desperate.”

Fluttershy took a step back. “N-n-no!”

“You are prey, struggling under the claw, and I am the predator. Food.” The air around her stirred as Exakktus began to inhale.

Fluttershy was already in the air, beating her wings furiously toward where she thought the exit lay. She couldn’t remember how far she was underground. She had no idea how long it would take her to get out of the cave.

The suction against her wings increased as Exakktus drew more and more air into his lungs, and the glow intensified until Fluttershy could even make out a few nearby cave walls. She struggled to fly upwards, knowing that as soon as the dragon exhaled, she was dead. She felt ash beneath her drifting back towards the dragon’s maw.

She saw the faintest bit of light ahead, the dark of the night breaking the pitch black of the lair. Fluttershy beat her wings harder, but barely moved an inch, such was the force of Exakktus’s lungs.

He stopped breathing in, and Fluttershy shot forward, confused but nonetheless relieved at the release. Why would Exakktus stop breathing in?

To breathe out, Fluttershy realized.

The fire roared behind her, and Fluttershy pushed against the air with all her might, trying desperately to reach the mouth of the cave. It was getting close. The roar was getting louder. She was nearly there. The sound of death screamed in her ear. Just a little farther...

She failed. The first wave of heat struck her before she got free.

It came over her first like the heat from standing to close to an open oven, unbearably hot. Then it got hotter, like holding her face against a stovetop. Then it got hotter, and Fluttershy felt her hair burning away as she was thrown free of the cave, her flesh sizzling and popping.

The ash of a thousand dead things helped to break her fall, but stuck to her blistered skin. Fluttershy knew she was quite possibly dead, or at least dying, but she had to get up. She had to get away. She coughed up ash, but couldn’t do anything else through the unbearable pain.

The ground shook and heaved beneath her. Fluttershy was supposed to have earthpony magic, but how did she use it? How could she use it when the whole world was fire? Every touch against her skin made her want to scream, but her throat felt raw. What must she look like, hairless and broken and lying in ash?

Again, the ground heaved, and Fluttershy realized that Exakktus was far too big to exit his lair via the door. He was coming up from below. Coming up to eat her. Food.

She’d practiced finding her magic before, but now it was unreachable, buried under a thousand smarting sores on her skin, cracked and broken. Applejack could do it, though. Applejack was strong. Fluttershy needed to be strong like Applejack.

Fire’s the worst, Applejack had said. The heat gets inside me. Fluttershy grabbed her earthpony magic with a mind that cried out in agony and screamed. It was a piteous moan, working its way out of two charred lungs and through a throat choked with ashes. But it did what it needed to.

The ground beneath her cracked and was pushed upwards. Fluttershy needed to get away soon, or she’d die. She screamed again, feeling her flesh writhe under the power of her earthpony magic. How long would it take her to heal the burns? Could she even heal the burns? Applejack could die ten times over, but Applejack was also the strongest earthpony they’d ever met by an order of magnitude.

The world beneath her exploded into a colossal fountain of stone and ash, and Fluttershy was once again thrown back to the ground. She spat out a mouthful of ash, preparing to scream through the pain and heal her injuries again, but what she saw when she looked up took her breath away.

A pair of great black wings rose out of the broken earth, rock and ash and dirt sheeting off of them in waves as they unfurled to reveal Exakktus the Black. His scales were like sheets of pitch dark hammered steel, thick and unyielding. His eyes burned with inner fire, and his chest heaved. He pulled himself out of the opening pit with two massive claws, then took a step forward, a tail longer than a Ponyville street sinuously stretching out behind him.

Fluttershy hobbled to her legs, then stumbled. Run. He’ll kill you. He’ll swallow you whole and cook you alive. Run!

She turned to face Exakktus.

He lowered his head and roared, opening his maw with a crack of thunder and baring the hellish flames that resided deep within his throat. The force of the sound was almost enough to knock Fluttershy back to the ground. It would have blown her mane back, if she still had one.

When he stopped, Fluttershy screamed back.

She dug deep, found every vestige of magic within herself that she understood, and every vestige that she didn’t, clutching at them with her mind. She held it all as she teetered in front of the dragon, her life hanging by a thread, and then she screamed.

Her scream was carried over the whole of the forest around her, echoing with unbridled power. She felt some strength returning to her limbs as her magic healed her, felt flesh fill in around her hooves as blackened meat sloughed off her wings. Exakktus tilted his head.

Fluttershy poured everything she had into her next scream as she met Exakktus’s eyes and gave him the stare. Into her roar, into Exakktus’s mind, she poured her fury, raw and hot. Her rage against the heavens and the destruction wrought by their monstrous game. She screamed Applejack shouldn’t have to feel the pain, Rarity needs a home, and Pinkie Pie doesn’t laugh anymore.

She felt the ground wiggle beneath her feet as she stared down the dragon, and a tiny bit of green sprouted up through the dead ash. Fluttershy took a step forward.

“Pony,” Exakktus rumbled.

Fluttershy screamed again, forcing him to see what she knew to be true, making him understand her rage. Empyrean dead in her arms, just a colt. Terra broken by Titan’s spell. The dead, the dead, the dead that would never come back and never stop coming unless they did something.

And she felt more life answer her, grasses and flowers and plants pushing their way out of the ash, growing in the space of heartbeats. Her magic was old magic, the magic of life, and life she would defend.

Her final scream was her rage at Exakktus. She gave him Nightmare Moon being broken and defeated, Discord being encased in stone, Nihilus overwhelmed by a rainbow wave of light, Empyrean scared of six mares. She gave him their victories, each one impossible, each one against a foe far stronger than they were.

Vines wrapped their way around each of her legs, twisting and pulling themselves over her body even as her hair grew back. A wisp of soft pink drifted over her eyes.

Exakktus drew away. Fluttershy took a step forward.

“Coward!” she screamed, her voice ringing with magical might. “You want to see the world a better place but you’re too scared to make it a better place!” The vines twisted and whipped over her chest and around the Element of Kindness. Fluttershy kept moving. “You’d rather live in fear of the King for eternity than defy him and prove yourself worthy! There are hundreds of ponies fighting him tonight, each of them weak and small, in your eyes!”

They had covered her body and lashed across the back of her head, up and around the curve of her ears as she spoke. “But each and every one of them is braver than you, Exakktus! We’ve beaten foes great and terrible before because of that strength! And you... you won’t ever know what that feels like.”

Fluttershy felt pricks as the vines spread under her ethereal mane and joined themselves over her brow. Thorns. They’d made her an ever-growing, ever-changing crown of thorns. She looked at the oldest dragon in the world.

“Unless you come with me, now, and show Titan that we aren’t afraid.”

There was never any question as to where they’d find their father.

Titan’s storm stood poised over The Citadel, a single titanic cloud filled with every ounce of elemental energy from leagues in each direction. It appeared solid on the outside—almost like a vast anvil. A vast anvil, on which a new world was about to be forged.

The air thinned as they made their ascent, but only the empty dark was unbreathable to a pony with a thousand years of pegasus magic.

Celestia and Luna flew well ahead of the army, as was needed. Their duel with the King would distract him from the counterstorm the pegasi brewed until it was too late. They would also prevent him from descending to the ground below and obliterating the resistance as easily as one might swat an errant fly.

They dove in tandem, their wings skimming the surface of a cloud as large as a city. Above the storm there was no wind, no ponies, no thunder. The world was vast, cold, and empty, save for the focused shaft of light that broke from the center of the nimbus, lighting it from within like a candle in a jack-o-lantern.

And for the being who stood in front of it. He was as vast, cold, and empty as the world around them. Impassive as the stars that burned above them, as powerful and contained as the storm that raged below. Older than the world they fought for, and every creature on it. As compassionate and alien as the empty dark high above them.

But for all that, he could die. Celestia and Luna believed this with an intensity that rivalled the burning of all their stars combined. They had to believe it. Because they were going to kill him.

He faced away from them, into the beam of light that would strip ponykind of their souls. He did not flinch from the incandescent glow, or turn to look at the daughters he no doubt knew were there. The light put the edges of his silhouette into sharp, colorless relief, like the night lit by a flash of lightning.

They landed on the tighty formed surface of the thunderstorm apart from one another, putting Titan and his beam between them. He stared on, heedless of their superior position. What was Titan waiting for? It was obvious they were here to kill him.

“You do not know.” Titan’s voice rolled over the aerial vista, powerful, cool, and emotionless. “You do not know of the care and effort involved in having children, as an alicorn. The secret was lost to you, locked safely within The Citadel.”

He paused. Celestia had always wondered and never known: how did alicorns have children? Not through mammalian means, that was all they had been told. That they were not common beasts, to roll about and leave the act of creation to nature. They were gods, and they were designed.

“It takes years,” Titan said. “Years, and two alicorns. The spark of immortality is not something that can be hastened. Terra didn’t want children. She had to be forced, but it was no matter. Her intellect was not required, only her presence. I made you both myself.”

He turned to face Celestia, his features burned away by the radiant light and the shadow it cast. “And this is how you repay me. By attempting to play me in the immortal game. You will fail.” He turned back to the beam. “And you, Luna, will be my new wife.”

Across the storm, Luna spat, a thin gob of saliva falling away to be swept up by the storm below. “Never.”

“Your defiance is understandable,” Titan said. “I will make you live a nightmare. But continuity of our species must be ensured, and Celestia has proven herself far too unstable. You are stupid and weak by comparison.”

Nadir lit the night like a second moon. “We shall see, Father,” Luna said, falling back into a bladecasting stance. Her robe of night fluttered around her, making her mane shine all the brighter.

Zenith seared its way through the air before Celestia, and its light glinted orange on her warplate and mimicked the crown of flames. She ground a hoof against the storm cloud, sensing the energy it contained, energy eager to be used. The four strains of color in her mane split from one another and curled about her face. “Look at me,” she said to her father.

Titan turned to regard her, his face not showing the least amount of curiosity or worry.

“Do you know the first rule of immortality?” Celestia asked him. The faintest expression of anger passed over Titan’s face as the muscles beneath his eyes constricted. “You will die.”

“You will die,” Luna echoed, taking a step towards him. “In the grand unravelling of time, this must come to pass.”

Celestia moved closer to her father as well, each step of her hooves creating a small discharge of electrical energy, a burst of light. “This must come to pass,” she said.

Titan turned his gaze from Celestia to Luna. His horn glowed, and he was encased by his black armor, plates echoing with a hollow sound as they closed around his body. “There is only one rule,” he said, looking back again upon the beam of light that pierced the heavens.

Like the dust being blown away from a buried treasure, the stream of light before him parted and flowed off of an object hidden within. It dwindled and thinned, until at last it was only a thread of energy bisecting a long, slender shaft of darkness. The light ran through the center of Singularity, and the blade split into two lengths and came to rest at Titan’s sides. The shaft of energy resumed its regular ascension.

Sheet lightning ripped its way across the sky, crossing from one horizon to another in three strokes, arcing around The Citadel’s beam. The sound of thunder layered atop itself was nothing to Titan’s voice.

“Mine,” he said.

Celestia sent a single thought to her sister. Now.

They converged on Titan simultaneously, coming at him from both sides to bring their blades down upon his head. A shower of incandescent white sparks erupted from Zenith’s edge as it met Singularity. Titan held Luna’s and Celestia’s blades still, parallel to one another. It seemed that even in combat, he was meticulous.

At half its strength, Titan’s weapon was stronger than Celestia’s, but it was not a tremendous difference. This was a winnable fight.

Still, Titan’s advantage meant that he had command of their blades. He threw them back with a contemptuous flick of Singularity’s halves, then rounded on Luna as Celestia was sent staggering.

Luna ducked under a swipe with her measureless grace, then caught another on Nadir, her blade ringing like a bell and throwing out a corona of wraithlike wisps as she pivoted it back into position. She had always been the better fighter. It had made her Terra’s favorite.

It didn’t matter. In the second that it took for Celestia to throw herself back at her father, Titan’s blades buffeted against Luna’s defenses like the storm beneath, crashing against Nadir again and again. Each impact put Luna another inch out of her hoofwork, another step off her guard. At last he batted Nadir away and drove a spell into Luna’s chest so hard it tore at the clouds beneath them as it catapulted her through the air.

Then he rounded on Celestia, and it was all she could do to hold her ground. She rolled out of the way of deadly swipes, blocked his blades with barriers of pure magic, stalled his approach with Zenith, and threw herself away from unarmed strikes that could shatter boulders.

We can’t fight him with just our blades, Luna. Use everything you have.

Luna burst from the thunderhead beneath them, trailing a crackling stream of harvested elemental energy. She threw her hooves forward and an angry red bolt of lightning shot forward to smite the king.

He caught it on an armored hoof, and the lightning vanished without a trace. Titan beat his wings once, crossing the distance between himself and Luna to stab at her with his black blades.

Luna melted into a swarm of bats that threw themselves past Titan just as Celestia shattered Zenith and sent it at the King. The incorporeal swarm pulled itself together beside Celestia, and they met Titan’s next onslaught together, catching the halves of Singularity on the weapons of night and day.

As soon as they did, Celestia encased an armored hoof in telekinetic energy and drove it into the King’s chest. The strike met armor as hard as Titan’s mind over skin that could shatter a diamond, but it threw her father back, sending him spinning away into the storm like a stone. It also shattered Celestia’s foreleg into a hundred fragments, each no larger than a pebble. She reformed her leg with a thought, and they plunged back into the fight.

Above the raging storm and their battling armies, the gods dueled. Celestia and Luna had the advantage of numbers, but they struggled to maintain the advantage of position. They ducked under and flipped over Titan’s blades, used shields and moment fields as they worked in tandem to keep him between them.

It was difficult. Titan whirled and stepped out of every one of their assaults, using the momentum from one strike to carry him into the next. He was the center of a shower of magical power, and he forsook grace and subtlety for pure technique and power. His blows hammered against Celestia’s defenses. His maneuvers broke her martial composure.

He struck with speed, power, and precision; he never seemed to be out of position or caught off guard by Celestia’s or Luna’s spells; he never resorted to misdirection. Titan’s apparent plan was simple: he would wear them down. He’d simply fight them until they ran out of power and then claim another victory in the game.

Titan moved with absolution, fought with the knowledge that he was unstoppable. The more Celestia found herself beaten back by the terrifying strength and will behind Singularity, the more she felt her sense of Titan’s arrogance ebb and her own feeling of hubris rise. As he threw them away again and again, like a school bully playing king-of-the-castle, the more it became apparent that Titan was very, very good at this.

That didn’t make things hopeless, though. It just made the game they were playing a difficult one.

Celestia sent a solemn thought to her sister. It is time, I think, to push our divinity to its limits.

Pinkie Pie, Rarity, and Applejack were in the front of the army, which meant that they got to see the enemy first.

They’d run through the still-damp forest, a thunderous stampede of ponies. Branches had whipped at their faces and underbrush had been flattened under their hooves, but further into the Everfree, the smaller plants began to clear and give way to the larger, ancient trees. It was there that they met the first host of monsters.

They broke into the clearing of sentinel trees, their way lit by a hundred hovering magelights— and in Pinkie Pie’s case, a pair of goggles that let her see in the dark. It was important, they had decided, to keep running at the enemy no matter what they saw. To keep up the charge. It wouldn’t do to have the army see them falter.

Which was why, when they saw what the forces of darkness had mustered and every ounce of their instincts screamed at them to run away, they ran on. And an army of ponies followed them.

The first thing they saw were the snakes: each as long as a house, with horn-like crests atop their heads and slitted yellow eyes. They coiled around the trees of the forest, watching and waiting for their prey.

Between the trees, gathered in packs, were timberwolves, warped wood and sinew poised, their backs arched and bristling. Standing apart from the wolves were spiders larger than wagons, their dripping pincers clearly visible against the multicolored glow of the magelights.

Manticores. Giant scorpions. Ethereal bears. They stretched back into the forest, numberless as their eyes were pitiless. A group of trees moved, far in the distance, and Pinkie Pie realized that it was probably a hydra. How many creatures were there, compared to the amount of ponies behind them?

Pinkie Pie did a mental inventory. Eight razor-edged magic hoof blades, two of which were loaded and the other six of which magnetized to her back. Two harpoons, each with a coil of near-invincible cord forty-four feet long and two millimetres thick, hanging from her flank. Six Pinkie Fireballs. Four Pinkie Smokers. Four Pinkie Boomers. Four Pink Field Entanglement Devices. Four legs, each ending in a hoof. Forty three teeth—hopefully her lack of a second left-side molar wouldn’t put her at a severe disadvantage.

They kept running, forward toward Titan’s army. What would it be like to kill a living creature, Pinkie Pie wondered. It would feel just like the puppets, it just wouldn’t disappear after it stopped breathing. Whatever blood they spilled wouldn’t wash away. Not tonight.

Astor Coruscare had written in Ponies Make War that a pony needed to be trained to kill. She’d outlined a regimen for the sole purpose of stripping away a pony’s equinity in the face of the enemy.

How did Pinkie Pie know that? Twilight Sparkle knew it, that was how. And Twilight was at the head of the other half of the army, far out of sight, but not out of reach.

None of them had training, but that was okay: the less a monster looked like a pony, the less they’d hesitate. And two months of Titan’s world had taught them all to kill or be killed anyway.

In the dark of the night, more details resolved themselves as Pinkie Pie drew closer to the enemy. The spittle, sticky and shining in the mouth of a manticore. The sheen of venom at the points of a spider’s pincers. The scattered magelight reflecting off of a scorpion's chitin. The smell of mouldering wood emanating from the timberwolves to mix with the scent of the damp earth beneath her hooves.

But all of her senses were mere background noise to the sound of thundering hooves and screaming ponies that roared through the normally silent Everfree Forest. As the two forces drew to a close, their enemies hissed and clacked and growled. In the chaos, a single name was whispered, barely even heard by the pony who uttered it.

A slither of enchanted steel against a tight sheath, and Pinkie Pie spoke her first name. “Blue Moon.”

A scorpion loomed ahead of her, its tail arcing out over its back to stand almost ten feet in the air. As Pinkie closed, it brought the envenomed weapon down in a strike that would crush her to death before it would have poisoned her.

Pinkie threw herself forward, and the point of the tail crashed into the ground behind her, sending up a spray of dirt. She came out of her roll carrying her momentum to fire a blade into what she figured was its mouth, and was rewarded with a spray of ichor.

A pincer the size of Pinkie’s torso came at her from the left, and she cleared it in one gravity-defying leap. Pinkie’s hooves touched down on carapace thicker than Applejack’s warplate as she landed on the scorpion’s back.

Twilight’s magical redesign of Pinkie Pie’s armor had mostly been to cut down on weight. She’d removed most of the straps and made everything attach via magical magnetic fields, and taken out the compressed gas in favor of a propulsion system that gathered energy from the air around Pinkie Pie and turned it into kinetic force.

But she’d also made other improvements. She’d made Pinkie Pie’s blades, for one; she’d also worked in the Element of Laughter for its protective enchantments. Finally, Twilight had taken Pinkie Pie’s request and incorporated a blade retrieval system.

They’d decided magnets weren’t strong enough and looked for alternatives. Pinkie Pie had offered one: Why not just rewind all the moving it does going out to bring it back in, like a yoyo? Twilight had laughed at the suggestion and explained that that was not how physics worked. Then she’d made it work anyhow.

So when Pinkie Pie, using every shred of her balance to remain atop the back of a giant scorpion, called the blade she’d lodged somewhere in its insectile mouth, it came back to her. The scorpion lurched and shuddered as the blade tore its way through where Pinkie assumed its brain was and punctured the beast’s armor from the inside. It clicked into its holster with a light snakt as the monster collapsed to the ground, eight legs spasming.

Pinkie Pie was already moving. She scrambled across the shaking corpse’s back and sprang into the air, throwing herself toward the rest of Titan’s army.

The closest creature to her, the one she would land right on top of, was a spider twice as tall as she was. It reared up on six back legs, brandishing its pincers as she came down. Pinkie didn’t scream in fear, or let out a battle cry, as she fell toward the monster. Instead, she brought her blades to bear and said, in a voice that was gaining volume:

“Slim Chance.”

Twin slices from her blades relieved the spider of its two front legs, and its pincers closed on thin air as Pinkie Pie rolled beneath it. When she came up of the other side, the spider was already collapsing to the ground, a half-dozen holes spewing insect ichor onto the ground as it twitched spasmodically in the throes of death.

A timberwolf pounced on her, its teeth of glistening sapwood dripping. Pinkie Pie was faster, catching it midair and throwing it to the ground. She stabbed a blade through its neck, then levered its head off to the sound of splintering wood. “Fat Chance too.” A snake tried to swallow her whole, only to have Vorpal snicker-snack it into segments. A bear collided with a nearby tree and collapsed, dead. Applejack appeared in Pinkie Pie’s field of vision a moment later, snapping a broken jaw back into place.

A strange, almost pony-shaped beast made of vines had to be cut into almost twenty parts before it stopped moving. “Tough Luck.”

Pinkie Pie turned to see the rest of the army. The other ponies were not faring nearly as well as the three of them had. They’d formed a rough approximation of a line, but in the time it had taken Pinkie to down four creatures, over a dozen ponies had been killed.

She watched a manticore impale a unicorn with its tail, then toss her away like she was a doll. She saw a pack of timberwolves tear an earthpony apart before they were set upon by a unicorn bladecaster.

Another earthpony ran by, half his skin burnt away by a glistening coat of something slick. Pinkie Pie winced as he screamed then tripped over a dying chimera and hit the ground. He didn’t get back up.

They were dying, and that was bad. They didn’t just need to survive; they needed to win. If they didn’t get to The Citadel before it was finished doing whatever it was doing, they lost.

Silently, Pinkie Pie rolled back into Applejack’s waiting hooves and Applejack threw her into the air. Pinkie Pie went up, her lightweight pegasus-like form propelled by Applejack’s titanic strength. As she spun about, she uncoupled her blades and sheathed them on her back, then slotted two Pinkie Fireballs into her launchers.

At the apex of her ascension, just beneath the canopy line, she spun to face the battling armies. Yes, the ponies were losing; their line was wavering in the places it hadn’t already been broken, and the beasts of the Everfree stretched back as far as they could see.

“Tangerine.”

She shot her fireballs at the monsters to the left and right of Applejack and was rewarded with twin blossoms of incandescent pink fire and the unequine shrieks of their burning enemies. The fires would continue to burn, funneling the creatures into Pinkie Pie, Rarity, and Applejack, and drawing some of them away from the rest of the army. That was the best she could do.

But that also meant that when Pinkie Pie landed and took her place by her friends, she found herself facing down a veritable horde of enemies. That was fine with her. Applejack was invincible, Rarity could kill anything, and Pinkie Pie still had plenty of names left to go.

And so they fought on, against a teeming horde of living creatures that seemed to never end. Pinkie cleaved her way through monsters covered in fur, in scales, in feathers, in nothing but bare skin. She killed spiders and manticores, she slew creatures that were made more of wind than of flesh.

She danced with Vorpal, weaving in and out of its diamonds with supernatural coordination. It flitted through the air around her, beside her, in front of her. Whenever a monster avoided one of Pinkie Pie’s blades, Vorpal was there to slice it to ribbons. A scorpion reared at her from one side, and Applejack kicked it in the face. It was soon replaced by a massive spider, and Applejack kicked that one in the face, too.

The Citadel pulsed.

The light emanating from the highest point of the metal fortress intensified and then burst, sending a ripple of magic out and over the entire Everfree. It washed over Pinkie Pie, and she was overcome with a feeling of lethargy.

She just wanted to stop fighting. Because what was she fighting for, really? Did any of it matter? Just sit down, she felt herself thinking. Just sit down and die. She had no name. No friends. All of the worry in her chest, all that tight ball of anxiety that had built itself over two months, fled her in an instant. Why spend so much time worrying about whether they would win or lose? It was like all the bad parts, all the parts of her that made her hurt, vanished in the blink of an eye.

It only lasted for an instant, but that was long enough. Pinkie Pie came out of... whatever that had been to find that while she’d idled, a timberwolf had pinned her to the ground.

Pinkie felt a sharp, crunching pain as teeth of splinters tore through her armor and into one of her forelegs. Its eyes gleamed like emeralds as it bore down on her, its breath rank with the smell of sawdust. She tried to wrench her foreleg away, but the timberwolf bit harder.

Her free foreleg met its own as she struggled to get her blade into a stabbing position, but try as she might, Pinkie Pie couldn’t level her hoof with the timberwolf’s chest. It wrenched its jaw again, tearing at her flesh, but Pinkie Pie was far more concerned with the shadow looming behind it, a massive creature, taller than the ancient trees, with three heads. The hydra.

Pinkie Pie tried to figure a way out of the wolf’s grip. Applejack and Rarity were too engaged with a manticore to help her, and Twilight...

Twilight Sparkle was there.

A lightning flash of violet light, and Twilight stood over Pinkie Pie as two halves of the timberwolf fell away. She looked immaculate, untouched by the conflict that raged around them. The stars in her cape still burned, her halo still sang around her head in a perfect circle, and her face was devoid of any expression whatsoever.

She turned her head to face the manticore and it was flattened to the ground by a hammer blow of telekinesis. Rarity put it down with her blade as she stared at Twilight.

Twilight barely acknowledged their presence, instead turning and taking two steps away from them to face the oncoming horde. As Pinkie Pie’s eyes followed the mare into battle, it became apparent that the timberwolf that had taken advantage of her incapacitation was merely the fastest wolf in its pack. The rest of them were arriving now, lunging at Twilight with feral abandon.

What happened next was like watching a pony move through a crowd in fast motion: a push here, a nudge there as Twilight shifted her way forward. It took the better part of two seconds, and when Twilight stopped moving, blades held aloft, every timberwolf was dead.

The hydra loomed, easily ten times the size of anything they’d fought. Three heads, each of them a uniform grey against the black thunder clouds that swirled above them. One of the heads bent over, swooping down at Twilight, then roared. Flecks of saliva were thrown out of its maw by the force of the sound.

Twilight looked up at the hydra, frowned in the same manner a pony might frown upon seeing a raincloud, then sent twenty seven shards imbued with kinetic energy down its throat. The mouth snapped shut, and the monster’s eyes shot up in surprise just as its neck was blown into a fountain of gore. A well-aimed, hair-thin beam of violet light separated the other heads from the body.

The Godslayer’s face showed no disgust as she was covered in the creature’s blood. Nor did it show pleasure. Twilight’s face was an expressionless mask devoid of anything but resolution.

A manticore was constricted to death by a set of purple, glowing chains. A hissing snake was reduced to a bubbling puddle of muck by another slung spell. A small ursa was diced like a tomato as Twilight teleported over half a dozen times in the space of a second whilst working her blades.

They saw her, they prepared for a fight, and then they died. Was this how a regular pony felt watching Pinkie Pie? How was anything in the forest supposed to measure up to power like that? No wonder they were such an inspiration.

The monsters began to pull away from Twilight, receding into the shadows between the ancient trees. Twilight appeared at Pinkie Pie’s side as she stood.

“Rarity,” Twilight called out, “I need a bandage.”

Pinkie Pie heard the sound of tearing cloth as Rarity ripped a part of her robe away. She felt a gentle prod against her bleeding foreleg, and lifted it up so that Twilight could wrap it.

“Gee, Twi.” Pinkie’s voice was strained. “Where did you learn all... that.”

“I can know everything you know, remember?” Twilight said, tugging on the cloth with her magic to make sure it was tight. “Including muscle memory. But most of that was Astor Coruscare. A little Terra, and some bits of Nihilus. I don’t come up with much of it myself. And despite all of it, I don’t know anything useful about medicine. All I can do is wrap this up.”

“It’s okay, Twi,” Pinkie Pie said. “I can fight on three legs.”

“Good, because that spell is almost complete, but we’re almost there. Stay at the front and make sure the line holds.”

“Twilight, darling,” Rarity said. “You’re not staying here?”

Twilight shook her head. “That storm isn’t moving nearly fast enough, and it’s too low. It’s going to spill any second now and we’re right under it. There’s something else, too. Something’s up there with them. Rainbow Dash needs my help.”

Applejack stepped over the shattered fragments of a timberwolf. “You do what you gotta do, Twilight.”

“The final approach to The Citadel is clear ground,” Twilight said. “If all goes well with the storm, we’ll meet you there. Stay safe.” Her blades exploded into dozens of tiny fragments that reformed into razorlike wings. She took off, her cape of stars catching the air.

They watched her go. “Well then,” Rarity said. “Back to it, I suppose.”

Applejack grunted. “How’s that battle cry go again?” she asked. She looked back over her shoulder. “Hey!” she shouted.

The ponies in the army looked up from their respite. “We ain’t done yet!” Applejack shouted. She pounded a hoof on the fragment of a timberwolf, and it made a cracking sound that was felt more than it was heard. “I’ve still got blood in my veins and fury in my heart, and Titan still thinks he’s a king! I say that means there’s work to be done! So ponies! Make war!”

And they did. Another thunder of hooves, and Pinkie Pie, Applejack, and Rarity took the lead. Another battle would lie ahead. How many more after that one? How many until they ran out of soldiers?

“Applejack,” Rarity said. “Your hat is askew.”

Applejack frowned. “And?”

“So,” Rarity puffed. “Straighten you hat.”

Applejack looked at Rarity. “Does it really matter?”

“Ugh,” Rarity said. “Carrying an argument whilst running. When did I get so... so fit?”

“Uh, guys?” Pinkie Pie asked.

The enemy had regrouped, with all the nightmarish severity they’d had before and not even a hint of diminished numbers. New monsters now, too: bats made out of fog, strange, hovering lights that glowed eerily, and here and there amongst the trees, a cockatrice.

An earsplitting, reptilian shriek cut through the night air. Each of the three ponies looked up to see a familiar green form set against Titan’s storm.

“Well damn,” Applejack said. “They’ve got a dragon.”

“It must be like, their leader!” Pinkie Pie shouted. “Like the hydra. We kill it and they scram!”

The dragon dipped along its course, diving low toward the pony army. It bore down on them with a terrifying speed.

“Move!” Applejack shouted.

Its path was clear. The dragon unfolded its wings just before it hit the ground, and they caught enough air to halt its fall and bring it into a sweeping line.

Ponies were thrown to the ground by the passing beast’s undercurrent, and Rarity and Pinkie Pie were pushed back by the wave of wind it made when it landed.

Applejack stood her ground. “Well, Rarity? You’re the knight.”

Rarity picked herself up off the ground, then frowned at the scattered fragments of Vorpal. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The dragon fixed its eyes upon them, then picked up an enormous claw and began to walk towards them. Thump.

“Knights kill dragons,” Pinkie Pie said. She thought that one was obvious.

“You’re always sayin’ it,” Applejack said. “Titles are important.”

Thump. Pinkie Pie could hear its breathing: heavy and rasping. She could almost smell the smoke pouring from its nostrils. Actually, Pinkie Pie realized with a sniff, she could smell the smoke.

“Applejack!” Rarity said her name in that petulant way she’d said it a thousand times before. “When have I ever said that?”

Applejack didn’t deign to give the green dragon a wayward glance as it roared at them, instead focusing all her attention on glaring at Rarity.

Rarity rolled her eyes. “Okay,” she said. “So there was that one time. But you’re helping me with this dragon.”

Applejack fixed her stetson. “Always, Rarity.”

“I’m helping too!” Pinkie Pie shouted as she loaded some explosives onto her foreleg.

“And please,” Rarity said. Fourteen diamonds tessellated into one of the world’s most famous unicorn blades. She turned on the dragon. “The proper form of address is Knight Commander.”

-

A thanks goes out to The Prereaders

The End of War

The End of War

The divine storm raged against a darkening sky, a swirling vortex of dark nimbus and crackling thunder. The closer Rainbow Dash came to it, the more she found herself awed by the sheer size of the thing. It could have swallowed Cloudsdale with ease. And it was tall, and dense. Flying through that storm would take more than just skill—no pony, no matter how skilled, could hope to control themselves in that monstrosity. It would take a kind of suicidal arrogance.

One corner of Rainbow Dash's mouth curled upward into a sidelong grin.

Spitfire fell in beside her, and they flew toward the storm at a regular pace—which for them meant that they were well ahead of the other teams. “Makes you feel small,” Spitfire said over the whistling and roaring of the building wind. “Doesn't it?”

Dash scoffed and waved a hoof. “That?” she said, jerking her head toward the raging thunderhead. “No way. Makes me think Titan has size issues.”

Spitfire's laugh was carried away by the rushing wind. “You're for real, aren't you?”

“Me?” Dash shot back. “What do you mean?”

Spitfire shook her head. “It doesn't even occur to you how dangerous this is, does it? You've never even considered the possibility that we might fail.”

The sky was lit by a sudden flash of lightning, and the compressive boom hit them moments later. “Hey,” Dash said. “The princesses are the ones who've gotta fight Titan. The way I see it, we've got the easy job. And we wouldn't be here if we didn't have a thing for beating the odds.”

They pumped harder against the churning gale, angling upwards for a better point of entry. “I like it,” Spitfire said. “It's a good attitude to have.”

“Plus,” Dash added. “How could we lose when we have the Spitfire on our side? Not to sound creepy or anything,” but you're my idol and I worship you. “—But I'm uh, a huge fan.”

“Really?” Spitfire asked. “I never got that impression.”

“Well, yeah, I play it—wait, are you being sarcastic?”

“Tell you what,” Spitfire said.

She never finished what she was going to say. A shrill screech grated against Dash's ears and Spitfire was thrown off her flight path as a dark, feathered form smashed into her side. She was gone in half a heartbeat.

Dash tried to pull to a stop, but the turbulent winds made a true stop impossible. She twisted around as she was tossed about, trying desperately to spot Spitfire in the dark of the night. She saw nothing.

“Spitfire!” There had to be something; they couldn't have hit the ground already. Spitfire was still falling, somewhere, with whatever that thing had been. Dash whipped her head back and forth as she felt panic begin to sink in. Her pegasine eyes were strong, but it was just too dark...

“Spitfire!” Her shout was stolen by the wind inches from her face.

“What?” the voice of confidence called out from behind her. “Did you think I was totally helpless?”

Dash spun midair and fought to keep herself steady. There, her back to the storm, was Spitfire, and her hooves she held...

It took another flash of lightning for Dash to see it clearly. It looked almost like a mare, but covered from its flank to its ears in thick, brown-black feathers. It had two pointed wings, much bigger than a normal pegasi's. But its face was what caught Dash's eyes and caused her to rule it out as most definitely non-pony. Its eyes were black slits in yellow orbs, and its muzzle was a twisted grin of sharpened teeth under a set of lips that seemed to be perpetually peeled back over the mouth.

“What is that?” Dash shouted.

Spitfire nodded her head at a point past Dash, and Rainbow Dash spun to see that the rest of the pegasi had caught up to them. Or at least, the rest of the pegasi in their group. The countersquall group was farther back, preparing a pressure channel.

“Harpy!” Spitfire yelled against the wind. It occurred to Dash that any mundane pony wouldn't be able to hear a word she was saying. Pegasine hearing was more useful than she'd thought, it seemed.

Spitfire let everypony get a good look at the harpy she held as it struggled in futility. “You kill 'em like this.” She wrapped a foreleg around one of its wings, then twisted her body, moving her foreleg and the harpy in opposition to one another. There was an audible crunch as the hollow bones in the wing shattered, and Spitfire let the harpy fall from her grasp. It shrieked and beat its one good wing uselessly as it plummeted to its death. “Not too different from the way you'd do a puppet.”

“Now get ready!” Spitfire shouted. “More on the way!”

Dash looked to see dozens of indistinct shapes coming towards them from below. Very faintly, she could hear their shrill cries.

This was bad. They needed to get the storm moving, fast, and the harpies weren't going to let that happen. They couldn't spend all their time fighting. That wasn't why they were there.

“Well?” Spitfire said from beside Rainbow Dash. “You gonna lead the charge, or what?”

Dash looked at her. “What? Me?”

Spitfire smiled. “I'm not the one with the sword. Which I'll sign for you, by the way, provided we survive this.”

The world about to end, her friends in danger, the fate of an army resting on her team's shoulders, and somehow that was the incentive that Dash needed. She tucked her wings close to her body, channeling the turbulent air and dropping into a dive. As soon as she cleared her group of pegasi, she drew her blade, the seam between her foreleg and the length of steel becoming charged with attractive force.

“Thunder and lightning!” Dash screamed as she fell through a hurricane.

For a moment, she thought that the winds were too strong. That her team hadn't heard her. And then:

“Wings and steel!”

Rainbow Dash looked down at the army of harpies beneath her, their wing beats frantic and laborious to keep their ascension through the raging storm. They really should have picked a better position to attack from. And a better enemy to attack.

Dash screamed as the thrill of falling burned through every fiber of her being. But it wasn't just falling: it was the thrill of flying in a thunderstorm amplified tenfold. It was the thrill of battle, of coming within inches of death but taking those inches every time. And it was the thrill of victory, although that one might have been a little preemptive on her part.

Spitfire was right, Dash realized: when she was in the air her worries seemed so easy to handle. It didn't even occur to Dash that they might lose, because of course they'd win.

Watch this, Dash thought, her mind on the pegasi behind her. Particularly, on Spitfire.

The first harpy extended a pair of talons toward her as she dropped through the air to meet it. Just as they would have met their mark, however, Dash tilted a wing and spun about, stabilizing directly behind her enemy.

Her blade bisected the harpy just where its neck met its shoulder, the force of Dash's fall behind the super sharp weapon. Dash felt the varied tremors run along the metal as it cleaved through bone, sinew, and skin, and the harpy was split in two.

Her momentum was diminished, but she kept falling face-first nonetheless. Another harpy appeared at the edge of her field of vision, and Dash rolled in midair, safely spinning under the blow of its talons and skewering it through the abdomen.

She threw the dying creature off her blade as the raging winds tossed her about. Dash tried to orient herself as the world spun, but just as she got a sense of which way was up, a claw dug into her armor just over her ribs. Her skin screamed at the pain.

Instinctively, Dash lashed out with her blade. She was rewarded with a keening shriek, and Dash pulled herself away to continue her chaotic fall. Only one way to orient herself now...

Dash flared her wings, and the strength of her fall forcibly tore them open to full extension. She didn’t know how much force it took to stop a pegasus falling at terminal velocity. Holding her wings fully extended would spread that force out over time, but Dash had no idea how much time. She didn’t know how much strain her joints could take. They taught that kind of thing in flight school.

Her wings hit a wall of air, but her body just kept going, swinging forward and threatening to tear her wings out of their sockets. She angled them, trying to divert some of the airflow, and the pressure eased. Soon, Dash came out of her fall in a sweeping arc, angling her momentum back upward.

Dash rocketed back up into the sky just as the gore from her first harpy caught up with her. Flecks of blood spattered her face and armor as she looked up at the battling armies. The harpies had met the majority of her force head on, and many a pegasus and harpy wrestled each other in free fall.

As she ascended to meet the enemy once more, she spared a glance for the cut on her ribs. It was shallow, and Dash reasoned that most of the damage had been absorbed by Twilight's spells. Dash gave a silent thank you to the unicorn. She couldn't take her friends into the air with her, but hey: near-invincibility was a good way to keep them close.

The harpies, for the most part, had their backs to Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash, for the most part, had no problem with attacking them from behind.

She felled four more harpies on her second pass through the aerial battlefield, each of them becoming an unsuspecting spray of blood and viscera to her blade. They were nothing to her; so slow, so fragile. It was like dodging snowflakes, like cutting through paper bags. It helped that she had weapons and armor, and all they had were feathers and claws. In the ancient times, did everypony go to war with weapons like these?

She dove back into the fray, trying her best to pick off the harpies that were tangled up with her ponies. With no blades of their own, Dash reasoned her forces would be hard pressed to fend off the harpy claws. They'd need all the help they could get.

Dash gave it to them. She sheared a nearby harpy's wings off at the shoulder and let it fall away from a pegasus with a wounded foreleg. Another harpy fell to simple decapitation, the spray of gore causing Dash to cringe.

Up and down Rainbow Dash went, riding the powerful winds of the storm to travel between her foes. She was born to fly, and they weren't, and that made her superior. So they died. Again and again, until there were none of them left.

Dash hovered in the air, apart, her hair and armor splattered with blood that had made a dozen patterns as it splashed across her body. She looked around at her forces, spotting Spitfire, and she noticed how much they had been thinned. She'd been fine during the attack, sure, but the harpies fared far better against her unarmored compatriots.

Still, she was their rallying point, and they had a job to do. “Right,” Dash shouted. “Let's get this storm moving! With—”

Dash was cut short. A song had started to play.

And Dash realized that she'd never heard music before. Not real music, not like this. It penetrated the howling winds and the crack of thunder, ingraining itself in her mind like a sliver. It was so soft, and cold, and ethereal. It was nothing like Dash had ever heard before, and she knew that if she stopped hearing it, she'd never hear it again.

She didn't want that to happen, though. The singer was singing for her; it wanted her. And she wanted to find it, whatever muse was singing her name. But it was fading; yes, Dash was certain of it. The music was fading, but it was coming from high above them. From the storm.

Without hesitating Dash set off toward the source of the noise, noting with irritation that the others had done the same. Couldn't they see that the music was for her? It practically called her name, with its lilting notes and and eerie wails. She pushed her wings further.

Spitfire passed her, and Dash growled in frustration. The singer was hers, and nopony else's. She pushed harder, picking up speed. She needed to get there first, needed to find that singer in the raging storm...

Dash tucked herself into Spitfire's wind stream and caught up to the other mare easily. She broke free, pumping her wings furiously, and looked ahead at the churning wall of dark grey storm clouds to see...

There. The most beautiful mare Dash had ever laid eyes on, floating freely just inside the fringe of the storm. She was a white pony, eyes blue like the sky, or the sea, or something. She had no hair, but skin like porcelain. Her mane flowed around her, strands of energy drifting like white seaweed, ignorant of the gale force winds. Her lips were parted sensuously, and from them poured the song, beckoning Rainbow Dash forward.

And so Rainbow Dash went, surging past Spitfire in a burst of speed she didn't know herself to be capable of. She entered the obscuring clouds of the storm, folding her wings to keep them from catching the wind and letting her incredible momentum carry her forward. She saw the beautiful pony's eyes widen in shock: clearly she hadn't expected her to move so fast. To prove herself so superior.

Dash sheared the creature's head off.

She stared, dumbfounded, as her blade shattered the pony's glassy neck, and shards of white were swept away by the storm. She hadn't intended to kill it, had she? She'd just wanted go to it, to be with it.

To be lured into certain death, Dash realized. The creature had used its song to lure them all into the deadly storm, and Dash had killed it. How?

Wrong, that was how. How many thousands of times had she fought against herself without her own knowledge? How many times had a part of her hidden away as a tiny voice, a slim shred of rebellion. A drop of equinity in a sea of madness. She'd intended to kill the monster the moment she’d first heard it.

Dash felt hooves on her shoulders, and realized that she was being pulled out of the storm. It had probably been a bad idea to hover inside it, she realized as she was thrown into open air.

“Are you alright!” Spitfire shouted over the sound of the storm.

Dash nodded dumbly.

Spitfire grabbed Dash's head in her hooves and turned Dash to look in her eyes. She seemed pleased with what she found, and let Dash go. “That was one of the sirens,” she said. “Resisting their song is supposed to be impossible. Not even unicorn magic will help.”

“Yeah, well,” Dash said, “I've got lots of practice.” She turned to the army. “Listen up!”

They pulled in closer, forming a tight semicircle of fliers. “Stick with the plan!” Dash shouted. “Create a low pressure zone while Spitfire and I head inside and give this big boy a push. Remember, we're aiming for the mountain!” She gestured to the mountain that housed Canterlot. “Now, go!”

They went, and Dash turned inward toward the megastorm. She sighed, though the sound was lost in the winds. “I used to be a weather pony.”

Spitfire barked out a laugh. “And I used to be the undisputed coolest pegasus alive. Tell you what, Rainbow Dash: we survive this, and you sign my goggles.”

Ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh—“You're still signing the sword.”

“You bet,” Spitfire said. She blew a breath out from between her cheeks. “This has got to be the craziest and most dangerous thing I have ever done in my life.”

Dash looked from her to the raging storm. “You think that's bad,” she said at last, rolling her shoulders. “One time I punched Titan in the face.”

The fury of the storm was nothing compared to that of the gods.

The tempest’s center was a churning grey cloudscape, lit to brilliance by Celestia's seething blade. Each part of the storm, each swirling strand of cloud, was three things to Luna. Elemental power to be tapped, a surface to stand on, and cover.

They had long since left the tranquil surface of the tempest behind and descended into its heart. It was moving now, sweeping its way over the forest and toward Canterlot. The beam of light that had pierced the clouds was gone. The only thing at the eye of the storm was Titan.

Luna and Celestia had to think faster than he did, because he could move faster. They had to strike truer, because he could strike harder. And they had to stay together, because apart he could destroy them in a minute apiece.

All things considered, they were doing an admirable job.

Tightening left flank. Tensing right foreleg. Celestia's thoughts were not vocalized in her mind. Rather, they made Luna note what Titan did almost instantaneously. It was perfect communication. He's about to round on you, blade high.

They stood on a scrap of storm cloud as it spun about the center of the maelstrom, each of them indifferent to the gale-force winds. Titan was once again between his daughters, whirling between them and striking with all the force of an asteroid impact.

Celestia's call was right. Titan wheeled on Luna in the split second it took her to register the thought, and found that she had already ducked under half of Singularity and thrust Nadir into his chest. Her blade sank only inches into Titan's flesh, but his warplate rusted and corroded around it. Titan pulled himself away and struck out again.

Luna's strike had only been a drop in the bucket, but that was enough. If they kept fighting like this, kept being careful, their father would weaken and die. They knew it was possible. They'd seen it happen to him before, when he fought Terra.

Luna felt Celestia's mind run through each of Titan's actions, taking in changes in his stance and expression so small and minute that she wouldn't have noticed them at all. Celestia had always been one to over-think things.

Luna had not. It was exactly her nature to rely on instinct, which was why she was so quick in reacting to Celestia's observations. Between the two of them, they'd eliminated their greatest weaknesses.

Titan caught their blades and threw himself back onto another cloud, pummeling them with a wave of concussed air. “Terra,” he said, his alicorn voice piercing the howling winds with ease. “She had control of only one aspect. Delivering your design.”

Lightning illuminated the depths of the megastorm, flashing forward to strike Titan's blades and then tear its way toward Celestia and Luna. They were gone from their tiny cloud before it turned to steam with a hiss.

“She betrayed me,” Titan said. “Much of her design is in you, Luna, but altered with aspects that we...” Titan paused and glanced downward, as though his eyes could pierce the clouds beneath them to see the Everfree below. “—Distilled from ponykind. This was as planned, and you became her primary child. But you, Celestia...”

In the instant that he spoke, light flickered through the storm around them. A tiny glimmer on every particle of condensed water, each silvery white droplet touched by Luna's magic. The light built over the course of one of Luna's pounding heartbeats, then broke free from the clouds and converged on Titan.

It wrapped around his legs, clung to his armor, and coated him in frost. Titan looked down at the warplate as it was eaten by Luna's spell, which was working its way up to his neck. His mouth made a twisted line of disgust.

Celestia, on a cloud across from Luna, let loose with a barrage of sunfire. Steam filled the air between her and the king, the clouds unable to withstand the temperature of the focused inferno.

Titan conjured a barrier, a solid black hemisphere unlike anything Luna had ever seen, and it swallowed Celestia's most powerful spell with ease. Titan intended to take the direct hit.

Celestia intended to call his bluff. She grimaced, bearing down on Zenith as her horn flared, and the sunfire continued to pour forth into Titan's strange barrier. Finally, he grunted in displeasure.

Titan took to the air, sending out a wave of concussive force along with the double crack of breaking the sound barrier. Clouds around him scattered, and Luna and Celestia were thrown even farther apart. Luna allowed herself a small smile as she threw herself over to Celestia's cloud. Titan was strong. Titan was inequine. Titan knew spells they'd never even seen and had the power to wipe entire species from the face of his planet.

Titan could die. They'd just proved it to him.

Luna and Celestia turned their gaze skyward. We might actually win, Luna thought.

Wouldn't that be something? Celestia thought back.

What do you think he was getting at, with Terra and the children?

I suspect we're about to find out. He likes the sound of his own voice.

Luna watched the dark shape of their father descending back through the hole he'd made in the storm. Of course he does. He's the only pony he has to talk to.

Titan struck the cloud above them like an empyrean hammer ringing against an anvil. It burst into tiny droplets that were thrown away by the ripple of his impact. He hovered aloft, his armor perfect once more.

“You, Celestia.” His voice reverberated through the storm, as if daring it to try and drown him out. “You were supposed to be a son. A second Empyrean. Instead Terra tried to make you like her mother.”

“Is that why you always hated me?” Celestia's voice matched Titan's. “Is that why you hurt me and broke me, taught me never to feel?”

The sky cracked as Celestia cast an angry orange thunderbolt at their father. Titan let it rebound off his chest plate and break against the swirling clouds.

Then they were upon him again, blades performing the dance of war as they struggled to win the game of gods. Their blades buckled and fizzled beneath the power of Titan's weapons, but they didn't relent. They fought perfectly together, pinning their father between them and trapping him under a hail of blows.

“I taught you to rule!” Titan shouted above the din. “I taught you to be strong. I gave you the mind of a god despite your inherent flaws.”

“Luna!”

Titan's hind leg came from nowhere, dashing between Singularity and Nadir to pummel her in the chest. How many times her near-indestructible bones broke from the impact, Luna couldn't have said. She staggered backward, shocking her body into healing itself.

The other half of Singularity swung around and stabbed Luna in the chest, and Luna saw past Titan to Celestia, who was busy tearing herself free from a hundred tiny black cords of slimy magical energy. She was, for the moment, alone.

Air bunched itself around her as Luna called her pegasus magic and beat her wings, bringing herself off of Titan's blade and back into the storm. Simultaneously, she sent a blast of telekinesis at her sister to bring her out of Titan's reach, at least momentarily. Titan could only go after one of them.

He chose Luna, easily overtaking her with a beat of his own wings and trapping her under a tempest of blows. Nadir worked to stem the flurry of hits, guided by Luna's frantic mind. In the distance, lightning split the sky once more, back-lighting her father's powerful frame as he bore down on her.

“But each of you,” Titan said, his voice an avalanche. “Each of you succumbed to the corruption of ponykind. Each of you chose to give in to what is easy, rather than become masters of reality.”

Both halves of Singularity struck downward and rang against Nadir. Luna pulled herself away before her blade could be extinguished, and Celestia landed beside her, free from Titan's bonds. The wind of the storm tore at their manes.

“Are you so lost, Titan?” Luna shouted. “How could you possibly think that any pony would want to be like you? For all your power you are alone and useless. This world thrived without you.” Of course, it had thrived without her, too.

Titan tilted his head. “You think I am lost? Don't you understand, Luna?”

Thunder broke against Celestia's skin, and Luna found herself facing an oncoming swarm of shattered Singularity fragments. She split Nadir, but she didn't have nearly as much focus as her father. Blademotes met midair, exploding into bursts of aurorae, but too many black shards of Singularity made it through. They shattered Luna's barrier, forced their way past her moment-field, and sunk into her flesh. She went numb where they touched her.

Then Singularity formed before her in its two parts, and Titan was there, standing between them in the depths of the storm. His blades rang against theirs, taking ground and giving nothing in return.

“My purpose is the ultimate purpose,” he bellowed as he fought. “I am the universal imperative, and I will never ignore my true calling.” Luna tried to move in tandem with Celestia, but defense against even half of Titan's assault was almost untenable. It was taking all her focus just to stay in the fight. “I alone understand how this world is meant to function.”

“You're a cruel monster!” Celestia screamed. “You were a cruel monster a thousand years ago and you're a cruel monster now! I see it. Luna sees it. All of ponykind sees it. Terra sees it. Harmony saw it, Titan.”

A clap of thunder, a wave of force, a collision of blades. Celestia and Luna were thrown away from the King as another cloud gave way.

“Harmony,” Titan whispered, looking down into the depths of the storm. “Terra told you.”

Luna took to the air and hovered apart from Titan, and Celestia took her place alongside her. “We know everything, Titan,” Luna said.

“No...” Titan said. Slowly, he raised his head to look at them. “No, you do not know everything, my daughters. You call me cruel, but you cannot know cruelty. Cruelty is taking away everything that a pony has worked to create. Cruelty is mocking their ideals as you kill those loyal to them.”

“Empty sky,” Celestia whispered. Lightning flashed between them and the King, bringing them into a colorless day for only a moment.

“I will show you cruelty, daughters. I will take everything that you have worked to build, and then I will take you from each other.”

Ice filled Luna's veins as Titan looked out, through the storm and toward what she knew to be the army of ponykind.

“I will kill your little ponies. And you will arrive too late, helpless.”

With that, Titan broke the sound barrier from a standstill, tearing another hole in his storm. Luna and Celestia said nothing. They followed him, pumping their wings as hard and fast as they could, terrified in the knowledge that Titan was right. He was faster than they were. He was going to get there first.

Rarity, like many other mares, had always admired knights. After all, what lady didn't want a handsome stallion to slay the dragon and spirit them away? A brave, strong, definitely handsome pony to keep them safe from harm. Knights protected the weak. They fought for what was just and true. They knew that ponies could fall, but the ideals they fought for lived forever.

Ponies like Sir Enamorous, the Dragonslayer.

Her father had not been a knight when she was growing up, which had left her free to fantasize. About meeting a real father, a hero, who would come and vanquish the wicked Esteem and take her and her sister away. None had come. After her mother died they were taken from Esteem and given to a foster family.

No great saviour had come for Rarity. No shining knight, no stalwart protector. One night she'd looked from Sweetie Belle's sleeping form, barely on the cusp of being able to speak, to her foster father, who knew nothing past running his simple ranch. And she'd decided that if the time ever came, Sweetie Belle would have her hero.

And so while she lived and laughed with friends and family, working to perfect her art as a designer, she had also fulfilled a secret quest—a knight’s quest. Rarity had been intimately familiar with every one of Carsomyr's fourteen bladeshards. She knew the design. It took her almost a year to find the perfect diamonds, then cut them for the deadly edge. Her blade was not identical to her father's—she'd redesigned the bridge and two edge shards for elegance.

It took her two more years to become skilled enough to cast a fourteen shard blade. Ponies at school had shown disdain and awe toward her freakish level of control when it came to telekinesis. Rarity had loved the attention.

She'd kept the weapon hidden. She'd kept it secret. She'd kept it to feel safe. Above all other things, she'd kept it.

Now it was only thing she owned. The only thing that generosity had left to give.

“A dragon, Rarity, is perhaps the most powerful creature in this world, excepting ponies.”

Rarity pouted at her father. “Why do I need to know how to kill a dragon? I don't want to—“

Esteem raised a hoof, and Rarity knew that it was time to be silent. “Because,” her father said. “As I just said, a dragon is the very creature you have the least likelihood of being able to kill.”

“Then why—“

“A dragon has two methods of drawing in breath. One is for air, the other for fire. One sounds like breathing, the other sounds distinct. Like a rush of steam from a train engine.”

The dragon before her was easily twice as large as the Carousel Boutique and covered in dark green scales. It glared at Rarity, Applejack, and Pinkie Pie with an intelligence far surpassing that of a simple brute as its claws tore furrows of earth in the ground. With a sound very much like a rush of steam from a train engine, it opened its mouth and began to suck in air.

Oh dear. “Fire!” Rarity shouted. It was unnecessary; Pinkie Pie and Applejack could practically read her thoughts anyway. They were moving before she was.

Rarity ran with Applejack, as always. They took the left, Pinkie Pie took the right, flanking their opponent as it drew in its fire. When they were level with where its wings met its shoulders, it exhaled.

The world was set aflame with emerald. It billowed and curled out from the dragon's maw in a roaring inferno, turning the small amount of foliage into ash and setting several of the sparsely placed ancient trees alight. It swiveled its head toward Rarity and Applejack, and more of the ground vanished in fire. The army hadn't dared come close to the dragon, and none of them were struck by the flames. Smart ponies.

Rarity's hooves pounded against the damp earth as she ran from the fire. How were they supposed to even get close to that thing? Heat built behind her, the temperature rising to almost unbearable levels.

And then nothing. The dragon had run out of flame. Applejack had possessed the sense to count six seconds from start to finish.

It didn't matter if Rarity couldn't get close, she realized. She didn't need to.

Vorpal burst into its fourteen fragments and whipped through the air, a glimmering storm of weaponized magic. The dragon wailed as the diamonds tore through its membranous green wing, then wheeled on Rarity and stepped forward.

Applejack was already rushing up to meet it. She pivoted as the creature’s head came around, and her hind legs shot out in a kick, aimed for the dragon’s throat.

Its eyes flashed with rage, and it opened its massive maw so that Applejack's hooves met thin air. With speed that defied its massive size, the dragon's head darted forward, its jaws closing around Applejack with a sickening crunch.

Rarity was vaguely aware of Pinkie Pie back-flipping over a tail swipe as she loaded explosives into her foreleg launcher. She assembled Vorpal at her side. If that dragon swallowed Applejack whole, Rarity would happily cut its stomach open to get her out.

Applejack didn't intend to go down so easily, however. No sooner had the dragon’s teeth clamped shut than they were pried back open. She held herself upside down, hind legs pressing against the roof of the creature's mouth, her back to the bottom. Her face was strained with exertion, but she managed to look out at Rarity.

“Get it!” Applejack shouted. “Right in the kisser!”

Rarity held Vorpal before her, parallel to the ground, and felt out the exact trajectory each of its shards would have to take. Applejack needed to get out of its mouth, and in the instant that she did Rarity would have a clear shot. It wasn't as if Rarity could shoot through Applejack's armor. Not with Twilight's enchantments. And even if she could...

Applejack twisted, giving her the barest room for an opening. As she focused on her target, Rarity become aware of a sound that she hadn't noticed before. Like a rush of steam from a train engine.

In an instant, Rarity was sure of two things.

First, that the green dragon's flame was undoubtedly very hot. She knew that a dragon's fire was magical in nature, and became more powerful with age. The unbearable heat that she had felt wash over her earlier—despite her bladecasting robe's protective enchantments and the distance from the flame—attested to that.

This wasn't Pinkie Pie's chemical incendiary or Terra's surgically applied pain fire. This was all the intensity of the fire that had just reduced all nearby foliage to ash, but focused through a funnel as wide as a pony. A funnel that Applejack just happened to be in the middle of.

Applejack could die. They both knew how close she'd come during the Second Battle of Ponyville. Enough injuries and she'd just stop healing, and dragonfire might just have what it would take to kill her.

The second thing came with the recollection of the scream that Applejack had made under Terra's flame. Death or no, clear path of attack or none, Rarity never wanted to hear her make that sound again.

She aimed downward at the thinner scales guarding the dragon's throat and shattered her blade. As expected, the dragon saw the shards coming this time, and knew the damage they could cause. It ducked its head, Applejack still held in its mouth—or holding its mouth open, depending on how one chose to view the situation.

The diamond bladeshards sparked against the dragon's crest, bouncing harmlessly off of several hundred years of hardened scales. At the same time, Applejack rolled herself out of the dragon's mouth and landed on the scorched earth in a heap.

The dragon stopped inhaling, head held low. Rarity's breath caught in her throat.

Applejack scrambled to her hooves and plunged under the dragon's belly just as the blinding channel of green fire glassed the ground she lay on. Rarity watched the mare struggle to stay beneath the creature and out of the range of its flame, counting six seconds as she readied her blade.

Something collided with Rarity's side, and she found herself pinned to the ground by a heavy form. She drew her hooves up to protect her face on instinct, and was rewarded with the splintering feel of a timberwolf's muzzle pressing against her hooves.

It was the other monsters. They were coming to the dragon's aid. The timberwolf bore down on her, sap dripping from its teeth to drizzle across her face. It let out a throaty snarl.

Two gleaming shafts made up of seven diamonds each took their place on either side of its neck, then twisted its head off with an explosion of wood and splinters. Rarity threw herself to her hooves and dusted off as she rejoined the blade.

The six seconds of fire ended as she did so, and Rarity was almost thrown to the ground again by the force of Pinkie Pie's explosive detonating against the dragon's side. It was a poor shot—she'd failed to hit the area where the wing met the flesh—but it still did damage.

The dragon roared, seeming to forget about Applejack, and rounded on Pinkie Pie. It opened its mouth, and that dreadfully familiar sound filled Rarity's ears again. By now it seemed to drown out every other noise in the forest, despite not being very loud in and of itself.

It beat its wings, buffeting Pinkie Pie with a thunderous wave of air and rearing up on its own hind legs. Rarity watched the dragon, reassembling Vorpal as she searched for a weak point. There had to be somewhere she could strike.

Pinkie Pie was thrown to the ground, and as the dragon came down it slammed a claw into her. Dirt exploded outward as Pinkie Pie was pinned to the ground by the razor claws. She started to try and wiggle her way free.

There. Just above the apex of its crest the dragon had what appeared to be a soft spot—a lighter patch of green. If she had perfect aim, and could throw her blade hard enough, Rarity might be able to hit its brain. It beat trying to aim into its mouth.

Too late Rarity realized that she was too absorbed in analyzing the creature, and as a result she'd overlooked two important facts.

First, the dragon had Pinkie Pie pinned to the ground and was about to unleash a torrent of fire. There was no question with Pinkie Pie—she simply wouldn't survive the inferno. Rarity needed to hit its head, or its claws, or something to save her friend.

Second, she'd forgotten about its tail.

It hit her square in the side, and Rarity lost all semblance of orientation as her hooves left the ground. She was vaguely aware of a second impact, on her other side, before falling to the ground in a heap. Her ears rang and pain stabbed along her sides. Her mouth tasted odd, almost metallic.

Rarity's friends were still in mortal danger. She needed to come to her senses and get up. She needed to help them, somehow.

A tree entered her field of vision—or maybe it had been there all along. Yes, Rarity thought, that was what she'd struck while in the air. She rolled her head to one side, trying to get a view of the dragon.

For the next several seconds, Rarity watched. She saw timberwolves and snakes and all of Titan's other monsters coming toward her to take a quick kill. Past them, the dragon still had Pinkie Pie pinned to the ground, and fire poured out of its maw in a seething green blossom of heat and death.

But it never reached Pinkie Pie. Gripping the dragon by the lower jaw and pulling its head toward the ground was Applejack, screaming as flames flowed like liquid over her forelegs and standing in a pool of molten glass.

It wasn't the scream than Rarity never wanted to hear again. Not a despairing wail of suffering and pain. It was defiance and rage. Endurance and tenacity. Rarity watched Applejack save Pinkie Pie's life, and she tapped their harmonic connection, letting each of Applejack's intangible virtues flow into her being.

Rarity had always been somewhat defenseless. Applejack was nearly invincible, but even Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie could evade almost any attack. Rarity had only the blade, which was more often than not too busy on the offense to be put on the defense. She'd always needed Applejack to protect her, but such was the nature of bladecasting.

Strike hard, strike fast, strike first. It was one of the first things her father had taught her. Bladecasting was the most efficient form of killing there was. Even the gods relied on the weapons to kill their enemies.

Rarity threw herself to her hooves, ignoring the almost crippling pain that sliced through her sides. A timberwolf pounced, aiming to hit her before she'd regained her balance, but even as she came to her hooves Rarity sent a single diamond through its mouth to burst out the back of its head. She rolled under the corpse, and every beast between her and the dragon turned to face a Knight Commander of the Order Nocturna.

A snake was sheared lengthwise in two as it tried to strike. Another timberwolf took a diamond through the eye. Rarity spun through them in a shower of blood and splinters, never losing her place.

Six seconds of flame ended, and the dragon snatched Applejack up in its jaws once more. It shook its head once, not bothering to draw in breath for fire, then pitched Applejack into a nearby tree. Bark and wood shattered as Applejack fell to the ground.

Four more diamonds rained down from above to devastate a ghost-like wolf. Rarity sent three more to new targets, then used a fourth for leverage, springing off it and over the swipe of a nearby manticore. She landed, facing forward, just as the manticore’s other paw was torn away with a wet splash. It pitched forward as its throat followed. By then Rarity had moved on to other targets.

Her hoofwork was perfect, her form divine. She split her focus between each of her assailants, delegating the proper amount of diamonds to each even as she moved through their ranks. She killed them, every one. It was all in the execution.

Until at last not a single foe stood in her path and she faced the dragon itself. Or rather, its tail.

The dragon looked down at Pinkie Pie, then raised its other claw. Four deadly talons gleamed.

Four fragments of Vorpal gleamed a little bit more.

Rarity reached the dragon’s tail just as her blade reached its outstretched claw. She leapt onto the sinuous limb as each talon was sheared away to tumble off into the night. The dragon shrieked, rearing its head back, and whipping its tail up.

Rarity let go.

She was flying, soaring through the night air with her bloodstained robe fluttering about her. Her blade had gone past the dragon's maimed claw; she called it now, drawing each of the pieces toward her.

Her aim was true. Rarity landed against the base of the dragon's head just as Vorpal assembled before her. She braced her impact with muscles built over months of training and wrapped her hind legs around its neck. The dragon reared its head, trying to throw her off.

Rarity decided that it wasn't green. A soldier, maybe even a knight, might call the dragon green. But Rarity was, above all other things, a designer. And her sense of color simply could not abide calling even this evil monster green when it was so obviously such a becoming shade of viridian.

Her mane flew back in its springy coils, her robe flowed around her, and Vorpal gleamed as she thrust it into a small light patch of scales just above the dragon's crest. She screamed, because that seemed like the appropriate thing to do when slaying a dragon, and she felt her blade slide into the dragon's brain. It split into fourteen fragments that tore the inside of the dragon's skull into mush.

Rarity rode the beast to the ground, feeling the thud of its impact reverberate through her body. She tapped her harmonic connection to make sure that Applejack and Pinkie Pie were both okay, then clambered to her hooves and stepped out onto the dead dragon's head.

Pinkie Pie had been right. Once more, the beasts of the Everfree were retreating, swarming back to their King's citadel. The army gathered around the fallen dragon, looking up at Rarity.

Rarity looked about, catching Applejack's eye. Applejack made a sort of go on expression, jerking her head to the rest of the army.

“Dragonslayer!” a pony shouted. Rarity the Dragonslayer. She'd have a hard time explaining that one to Spike.

Rarity thrust her blade into the air, and it was met with a chorus of cheers from the army. She let them wash over her, feeling curiously distanced from the thrill of battle. She was a fashion designer to the heart. She just happened to have also slain a dragon.

She turned and leveled Vorpal at The Citadel, and the army charged with a new chant of “Ponies make war!” Rarity hopped down and joined Applejack, who had freed Pinkie Pie from under the dragon's claw.

Applejack adjusted her charred stetson. “Didn't know you had... well, that... in you, Rares.”

“Yeah!” Pinkie Pie sprang to her hooves despite her injuries. “You were like, all twirling and spinning and then you jumped on its tail and I thought—“

“We were there, Pinkie Pie,” Applejack said.

“Yes,” Rarity said. “Well, the dragon was nothing, really.” She winced at the pain stabbing her in the sides. “Titles are important.”

They trotted off to join the army as it moved through the woods. The Citadel loomed before them, white light inscribed along its edges in curved and pointed glyphs. It seemed larger than it had before. Closer. The trees began to thin, but the army met no resistance. Where had the creatures gone?

Oh, Rarity realized as she looked ahead. They were probably taking shelter from the storm. It had finally touched down. Rarity heard shouting coming from some of the ponies in the army.

It was a wall of wind and water that stretched hundreds of feet into the sky. What was little more than a fine mist tore its way sidelong through the air, streaming off of the ancient trees to form arcs and patterns. Every branch and leaf on the ground was swept away, leaving only the packed soil behind. And it was coming, approaching them at a frightening speed.

Pinkie Pie shot a harpoon into a tree, wrapping the trailing cord around her chest. Applejack shoved Rarity to the ground and pinned her. It was all Rarity could do to keep her face out of the dirt.

“Stay down!” Applejack shouted.

Rarity looked up at the mare, then shifted so that she was on her back. Applejack looked down at her, their faces inches apart. “I said stay down, Rarity!” Rarity wiggled some more and freed her forelegs. “Consarn it, Rarity! What are you doing?”

“Your hat!” she said, clamping her hooves over the stetson. “This thing is practically invincible. I'm not watching it survive all that it has just to see it blow away now.”

Applejack sighed and rolled her eyes, but didn't object any further. “Just hang on.”

The storm hit.

The tiny, mist-like droplets of water hit Rarity's face, and they stung, so much so that she shut her eyes. She felt the press of the wind against her, and she clung to Applejack's forelegs and clamped her hooves down more tightly on the hat.

Applejack said something, but Rarity couldn't hear it. The howling of the storm filled her ears, and she pressed them back against her head. Applejack's face was so close to hers, Rarity could feel it.

The pegasi had failed. The storm had hit. Which meant they'd lost. The fact finally dawned on Rarity.

What were the other members of the army, who didn't have a super-dense earthpony to hide under, doing? Hugging trees? Dying? Sticks and branches shattered against Applejack's armor, dashed against an immovable object by the force of the wind. What had happened to Twilight and Rainbow Dash? Rarity could hardly imagine anypony flying through winds like these.

How long could Applejack and Rarity survive? Would they eventually succumb to the winds and rain? Or would Titan's spell get them first? How many moments of free will did Rarity have left?

“Applejack,” Rarity tried to say. The wind stole her words away before they'd even left her mouth. She opened her eyes.

Applejack looked down at her, the rim of her hat rippling in the wind and her mane trying to tear itself off her head. Soot blackened her face, but her freckles were still visible. And even though they were about to die, she still wore an expression of unshakable determination.

Applejack's lips moved, but she wasn't shouting. Rarity traced the words, almost feeling the accent in them, as Applejack spoke. She nodded, and Rarity moved closer.

The wind stopped as the storm passed as quickly as it had come, and Rarity pulled herself away and looked into Applejack's startled eyes. The world wasn't ending just yet.

Applejack rolled off of Rarity and they both stood, doing their best to look anywhere but at one another. Rarity settled for the sky and was rewarded with the sight of Rainbow Dash swooping over the forest to the sound of cheers.

Dash touched down in front of Rarity. “We did it!” she said. “We counter-spun that storm and sent it straight toward Canterlot! Am I awesome or what?”

“Yes...” Rarity said, “awesome.”

Pinkie Pie slid to a halt beside them. “Wow, Dash! You saved our lives!”

“Uhuh,” Applejack said. “Saved our lives.”

Dash eyed Applejack. “You look disappointed.”

Rarity brushed a little dirt out of her mane. “Moving on...”

Dash cocked her head. “Twilight’s back on the ground. She's rounding everypony up for the final approach. I'm hitting the skies. Too many harpies. I'll fly low in case you need me. You guys keep up the charge.”

“Ooh!” Pinkie Pie said. “Can I do this one?” Without waiting for an answer, she clambered up onto Applejack's back.

“Ponies!” Pinkie Pie shouted.

Rarity looked around to see their soldiers had gathered around them at a respectable distance. They were battered, bruised, and weary-eyed. Their attention was fixed on Pinkie Pie.

Pinkie thrust a hoof forward, pointing at the ever-growing Citadel. “Make war!”

Ponies make war. And they did. They did because Twilight made them. What else would they do, if she asked it of them? How many lives could she have them throw away before they lost faith?

Twilight shed her wings as she reached the edge of the rising storm and the wind made it too difficult to fly. She turned in the air, bringing herself to face down toward the Everfree Forest and the battle raging below.

Down, past hundreds of clashing pegasi and harpies, at burning swaths of the Everfree and the tiny figures that fought around them. A flash of lightning, a crash of thunder, and the battlefield was revealed to her in stark contrast.

They were losing. That much Twilight could deduce at a glance, the details that had led to her observation followed the conclusion. Their force had become scattered as it pressed on through the woods, and now the army was little more than several disorganized, uneven clumps. They were holding now, but soon they'd move out into the open ground around The Citadel itself.

Titan's army of monsters was thick enough there that the army would be surrounded and butchered. There was no strategy or coordination to the way they fought; they were simply a vast mass of predators, instilled with one idea and one idea only: kill ponies.

It had made the action of killing them morally suspect, at first. These creatures might have been bloodthirsty monsters even before Titan, but they never left the forest. Now an army of ponies was coming into their home and slaughtering them. Twilight had felt bad for the monsters.

At least at first she had.

Her trepidation had melted after she watched a manticore impale a unicorn named Quick Fix with its tail. That manticore had been her first kill—Equinox, of course. She'd broken through the magical protection Titan had placed on it to find that it hadn't had its mind influenced in any way at all. The creatures of Titan’s army very much had free will, and they wanted to be in the field against Ponykind. No mind magic. Just what Celestia would call influence.

Twenty six motes of pure magical energy—the twenty seventh made up her halo of defensive magics—reformed into two equally bright blades beside Twilight as she began to fall through the harpies and her pegasi. Free fall combat had at first been strange to Twilight—even when tapping Rainbow Dash's magic for a slower fall and maneuverability. Soon enough, however, Twilight had grown accustomed to the spatial reasoning required. That was one of her specialties, after all.

Too many harpies, not enough pegasi. And they were also too scattered, too unfocused. All they needed to do was protect the forces on the ground. They should have been flying much lower.

There was a certain thrill in flight and in falling that Twilight was only barely glimpsing the edges of. Gravity pulled her downward, causing her to fall faster and faster. Air pushed back up at her, a wall of resistant force that tore at her mane and would have made her eyes tear, if she hadn't protected them with a spell. What would it feel like, to fly just for fun?

She killed the thought as abruptly as she killed the first harpy. It was an ugly creature: all scale-like feathers and a twisted mouth, with birdlike claws instead of hooves. It hardly had the time to even notice Twilight, let alone evade the blades that crossed through its body and left it to fall through the sky in four neat pieces.

An intelligent creature. Vicious, yes. Savage, for sure. And now dead. Twilight could kill them in half the time and twice the effort it took her to sneeze. And she did.

Her blades split as she sent them at targets, and Twilight had soon fallen past her comparatively slow-moving blademotes. Most of them would miss; the harpies were agile enough to evade them, and they were becoming more aware of Twilight by the second. But some of them would hit, and even the sliver of power inside them was enough to strike her enemies dead.

She set her gaze forward and found her next target just as it spun mid-fall to face her. The harpy let a shriek escape its gruesome mouth. Twilight said nothing and showed no expression.

Twilight was moving much faster than the harpy, and their collision knocked it senseless for a moment. Long enough for Twilight to lock her forelegs around it. She felt its talons pressing into her back, but they couldn't penetrate skin hardened by earthpony and unicorn magic. It was like trying to drive a nail through steel.

Twilight drove her forehead into the harpy’s face, and it burst open like a watermelon. She felt the grip around her relax and let the harpy fall away.

Her blademotes were falling around her now, a swarm of shooting stars that dipped and wove in and out of the screeching harpies. None of them even tried to kill her.

Twilight twisted in the air as she fell toward another one of the creatures, flipping backwards as she grabbed its neck with her forelegs. Snapping it was like breaking a twig to her strength.

She continued to fall, using her hooves to slay her enemies, but they were nothing compared to her blademotes. Most of their targets had the sense to move out of the way, but not all of them had the speed. She felled harpies by the dozens.

A pegasus streaked by Twilight's field of vision, and she realized she'd fallen far enough to reach the bulk of their own forces. Blademotes wouldn't do, not with ponies grappling the harpies in midair. It was time to change tactics.

Her blades formed before her and Twilight closed her eyes, sweeping out with her magical senses. She found the harpies, dozens of them that were close enough, and marked their positions in her mind.

Then she teleported and stabbed a harpy in the chest, killing it instantly with a surge of magic and freeing the pegasus it held in its grasp. The pegasus—a stallion—barely had time to look relieved before Twilight was gone again.

The next harpy she sheared in half through the belly. It took her a quarter of a second to kill it and move on to the next. And the next. And the next.

She whipped between her enemies, always falling, but not always falling downward. She tore them apart, stopped their hearts, sliced off their heads—whatever ended the harpy's life as quickly as possible so she could move on.

This was how she saved lives, Twilight thought as she cleaved one of the shrieking beasts in two. By killing and killing again. It took her ten seconds to clear the air of over thirty of them.

She held herself aloft with telekinesis, wrapping her hooves in a steady amethyst light. The pegasi around her stared at her in awe. An entire wing saved and a flock of harpies dead in seconds. No wonder they thought she was a god.

“Captain Spitfire,” Twilight said. She'd noticed Spitfire was part of this group as she fell. Perhaps Twilight had even saved her life.

Spitfire glided to Twilight and then saluted as she began to hover. “General.”

“Reign in our air forces. I want the tightest group you can possibly maintain over our ground forces as we assault that Citadel. I'm going to go draw the troops in for a coordinated attack. Understood?”

Spitfire nodded. “Yes ma'am.”

Ponies make war. She could have asked them all to die and they would have done it without question. Did they truly think that she was infallible? She was just doing the job she was given, like everyone else in this wretched forest.

Twilight didn't know which battle cry to use, so she settled with Rainbow Dash's. “Thunder and lightning!”

Every pegasus, including Spitfire, answered her call. “Wings and steel!” Every piece of morale Twilight could give them counted, after all.

She let the magic fall away from her hooves and fell into a dive. The forest filled her view, closer now than when she had been at the edge of the megastorm. She'd picked her first target well; the ponies were now almost completely overwhelmed. Through the trees Twilight watched a breaking line of ponies buckle as monster after monster crashed against it. Scorpions tore ponies apart with their pincers. Spiders impaled them with skittering legs. Timberwolves attacked in packs, converging on fallen prey.

And, like the ponies they fought, they'd arranged themselves into a line.

Twilight charged each of her blademotes with magical energy and catapulted them toward the ground. They flashed through the air, some of them catching off-guard monsters unawares, but they weren't Twilight's target. Her target was the ground, and she'd hit: twenty six explosive points of magical energy were now embedded just off the pony line.

They detonated just as Twilight pushed herself into a diagonal fall and slowed her descent. She'd aimed her motes as close to the pony line as she could without harming her own soldiers, but that also meant sparing some of the monsters. The remaining beasts she would have to take out personally.

She hit the forest floor with one hoof, keeping the momentum from her fall to move herself forward through the thin line of enemies.

The first to fall was a manticore, slain by the motes of Equinox as Twilight called it to her side. The second was a timberwolf, which she stabbed handily.

Ponies were just starting to recover from the explosion and take notice of Twilight: a glowing purple blur, racing effortlessly through their lines and killing everything she touched. This was how Twilight saved lives.

She flipped over a scorpion and drove twenty-six motes of burning energy through its brain. She landed, rolled under a spider’s legs, then killed it by recalling Equinox even as she turned a timberwolf's head to dust with her hooves.

It was not a matter of winning or losing for Twilight. No, life and death were reserved for the soldiers that fought under her. For Twilight, it was a matter of time and efficiency. Because no matter how strong she was, if they couldn't get to The Citadel ponykind would cease to be. She couldn't kill every creature in Titan's army on her own. Not in the time they had, that was.

Twilight bucked some kind of ethereal bear into the darkness of the woods as Equinox made short work of a plant-beast. Titan had influenced these monsters into trying to kill them. What had Twilight done with ponykind? She'd made them fight for her, with words and perceptions. They were dying for their hero, their master general, their new god.

The last monster, a cockatrice, fell into quarters as Twilight's blades snapped into position beside her. She cast a spell to clean the blood and ichor from her body, and it misted into the air around her as her cape settled onto her back.

“Ponies!” she cried, as though every single one of them wasn't already staring at her in awe.

I'm one of you, she wanted to shout. Don't look at me like that. There's a swath of hundreds of corpses from here to Ponyville to prove that I'm not the pony you think I am.

“Reform your ranks and meet the next division. You need to move counterclockwise to The Citadel. Wait at the edge of the forest for the final attack. Am I understood?”

Twilight received a vague chorus of assent. “Good,” she said. “I'll be leading the final attack. Until then...” She drew in a breath. “Stay safe.”

Then she was gone, teleporting to the next cluster of isolated ponies. She landed in the middle of a section of forest very much like the one she had left, except once again surrounded by monsters. Twilight set to work immediately. This had, after all, been expected and accounted for.

She was Astor Coruscare, reaving through living flesh as easily as one might part a cloud of mist. She was Princess Terra, rending her foes apart to protect her own. She was both of them in combat but neither of them in mind, because she was Princess Celestia, callously thinking to her next move as she executed a single play. She killed them, and she felt nothing, because she was King Titan, and they were nothing before her.

She was anything but Twilight Sparkle. Twilight Sparkle couldn't do this. Or maybe she could. Twilight Sparkle was Celestia's master general and the Godslayer. Twilight Sparkle was perfect. She was just trying her hardest to be that mare, to be Twilight Sparkle.

Her failure was inevitable. No mare could be in all places at all times—not even her. She ordered entire groups of ponies into form, heedless of how many they'd already lost.

But she also came across battles that had been lost. Too late, Twilight would come out of a teleport to find herself surrounded by the fallen, not a living pony soul in sight. Monsters would look up from their meals to find themselves in the presence of ponykind's newest god. And then Twilight, as Princess Terra, would punish them for her failure.

In the end, the forces she drew together were far more meager than she had hoped they'd be. They'd simply suffered too many casualties. In fact, according to Ponies Make War, her army should have lost morale, broken ranks, and fled by now. Was their devotion to Twilight truly so great, or did they simply realize that this was their last stand?

Twilight came out of a teleport to find herself in the midst of the vanguard. Here, at least, they'd held the line, thanks in part to her friends. A few short seconds and she'd helped them drive away the last of the monsters.

Beaten and battered ponies watched at her expectantly through the thinning trees of the Everfree Forest. Again, Twilight found herself detesting the look in their eyes. She could hear them mutter her name, whispering between one another about the appearance of their saviour. Twilight set her shoulders and took a deep breath. It was time to stop wallowing in her identity crisis and focus on the task at hoof: securing The Citadel.

“The rest of the army is converging on our position!” Twilight shouted. “When they get here, we're forming new ranks and assaulting the Citadel as a whole. Titan has a whole new army out there. This is the last chance any of you will get to rest.” Twilight reasoned they could be ready in less than five minutes. It was a good thing, too—that spell was nearing completion. She could feel it.

She strode over to her friends. Rainbow Dash sported numerous cuts and scrapes, and what appeared to be a new pair of goggles. Pinkie Pie's leg was still wrapped up, and she held it apart from the ground. At least now she seemed to be happier. Twilight wondered what had caused her change in attitude.

At first glance Rarity seemed to be okay, but Twilight soon realized that her breathing was labored. What was more, she kept fidgeting, as though she was nervous about something. The end of the world, and Rarity was worrying.

Applejack looked perfectly healthy, and her armor was barely scratched. She'd look perfectly healthy until she died.

Twilight looked them all over, trying to figure out what she could possibly say. What words would fully encapsulate the way she felt about the four mares in front of her? How could she express her worry, her gratitude, her guilt, and her need?

She felt almost silly, wearing her uniform in front of them. Twilight Sparkle wasn't their god. To them, Twilight Sparkle was a friend, a librarian, a bit of a dork.

“Thank you,” she said.

Applejack cocked her head. “What for?”

“For looking at me the way you do.” Twilight turned her head to face the ponies of the army. “They look at me like... like they've always looked at Celestia. To them I'm perfect. An idea. And no matter how hard I try to be the pony they think I am, to deserve the way they treat me, I fail. Ponies die. Just like the labyrinth.”

A pause. “Uh, you're welcome?” Applejack said.

Twilight eyed her friend, wondering just how that hat still existed. “Right,” she said. “The final approach. We're in front.”

Dash scoffed. “Obviously.”

“We do this, and we do this together,” Twilight said. “If experience has taught us anything, it's that running off on my own is almost always the worst possible plan.”

Pinkie Pie snickered. Applejack and Rainbow Dash exchanged a look.

“We were wondering when you were going to realize that, dear,” Rarity said.

“Now you can stop dying!” Pinkie Pie said.

“Thanks.” Twilight turned again to look at the army. “I'm going to go get everything organized.” She thought about teleporting, but decided that she could walk. They had the time.

A short while later Twilight stood again before the army of ponykind, ready to lead them past the treeline and into the final push. The Citadel stood behind her, towering over the trees of the forest, now reaching up into a cloudless sky.

“Ponies,” Twilight said. “This is the end. This is how we take back our world. One final push is all that remains, and they know it. You've seen them fight, now. They're bigger than we are. Stronger.”

“Not stronger than you!” a voice shouted out. “Godslayer!”

“Godslayer!”

Twilight waited for the cheers to die down. “Not stronger than us,” she said finally. “Because while we fight a legion of individuals, we fight them as one. They are a swarm of a thousand nightmares, but we are the wrath of an entire species!

“Ponies!” she shouted. “This is our final hour. Stand with one another. Fight for each other. Act in harmony, for that is our one true strength.”

She cast Equinox and turned around, coming face to face with her friends. She raised her blade, preparing to signal the charge.

“And you think you don't deserve their loyalty,” Dash said quietly.

Twilight called lightning from a clear sky, and a thin bolt crashed its way through the air to strike Equinox. She felt her blade drink in the energy and seethe with elemental might. She didn't even know she could do that; she'd just called the lightning for dramatic effect. She'd have to remember to keep that particular one in mind.

Her hooves hit the ground, taking her past her friends and out to the front of the stampeding army. She didn't need to look back to know that they followed her: her friends, the army, everyone. The underbrush grew sparse. The trees thinned. Ahead, Twilight could see where they broke into The Citadel clearing.

Merely an hour before, Titan had raised the ancient device from the earth, shattering the plateau and tearing the forest apart. Then he'd seemingly blown away the debris, flattening trees too close to the blast.

The result was a pit, a massive impression in the earth around The Citadel, deeper than the rest of the forest by only a few meters. The scattered fragments of the plateau littered the dirty ground, pushed into the earth by Titan's magic. Some were as small as pieces of gravel, others were as big as a barn. Together they formed a surface to stand on instead of the uneven earth.

Twilight looked at their approach and gritted her teeth.

It was filled with Titan's damnable monsters. Teeming with them. Thousands of skittering horrors and nightmarish creatures swarmed within the pit, shrieking and chittering at the meager armies of ponykind.

There were just so many of them. And more were coming, shadows crawling out of the far edges of the Everfree Forest. Thousands compared to hundreds, all crammed within the last couple kilometers of distance to Harmony's Citadel.

They were vastly outnumbered, by beings far superior in combat than them. It wasn't fair. But then, nothing about Titan or the war ever had been.

Twilight Sparkle's hooves pressed into diminishing grass as she ran, beating the dirt as she moved to meet their enemies. She felt the tremor of a hundred other ponies following behind her with each step. The air was so fresh here, and smelled faintly of pine needles, it felt almost deceptive. Twilight opened her mouth as she reached the edge of the pit and screamed.

She split Equinox and divided her mind into two. One went over the vast amount of war spells they could employ. The other called upon their other magics. Each of them took a blade.

Then she reached the edge of the pit and jumped. For an instant she felt like she was frozen in that moment. She was in the air, cloak billowing, bearing down on Titan's army, her four friends falling beside her.

Had it really only been two months? One month, even, for Twilight? They'd gone from being a group of townsponies to being ponykind's iconic heroes. They were weapons of war, now, each of them nigh invulnerable and deadly.

The monsters of the Everfree looked up through multifaceted eyes and empty pits, expecting mortal ponies for devouring.

They got Twilight Sparkle instead.

Her hooves touched the ground even as the twin blades of Equinox found and slew two targets. She spun and leapt over the falling corpse of a scorpion, wind roaring in her ears, as she split her blade and sent it into the mass of her enemies.

Every monster she failed to kill was picked up by her friends. Rarity took the legs off a spider, then handily dispatched it with Vorpal. A hoof-blade whirled by Twilight, a flash of steel in the moonlight, and took another spider in the eyes. Rainbow Dash was beside Twilight in an instant, covering her left with her absurdly sharp blade, moving faster than Twilight could follow. Applejack batted a pack of timberwolves out of the air, grunting as she split their wooden bodies with her armored hooves.

And then ponies were spilling out over the edge and onto the battlefield, roaring with the wrath of ponykind. Unicorns flung shards of steel and any projectiles they could get their hooves on in a devastating opening salvo. Earthponies rushed in to crush their opponents to death or skewer them with makeshift weapons that they held in their teeth. Above them, a wave of pegasi clashed with Titan's harpies, the dead left to fall and break open upon the ground.

They pushed forward, and Twilight found it too easy to become lost in the chaos. This was not the forest, where their enemies were spread thin, only to come at them a few at a time. They pressed in around her, and the air became thick with blood and ichor. She was frantic: throwing blademotes to intercept monsters as they threatened to strike killing blows on her troops.

Twilight tried to get an idea of how they far they still had to go as she butchered the creatures of the Everfree. They'd need to break the enemy's morale in order to win—there was no way they could kill them all. But what would terrify Titan's army into retreat when it obviously had such superior numbers?

They fought on, and no matter how many she killed, more would replace them. Twilight began to feel herself panicking every time she came to face the army. Flashes of her soldiers dying lived in her mind long after she'd turned away.

She watched an earthpony have his belly torn open by a pack of timberwolves, then saw them fight over his insides. She saw a unicorn split almost in two by a massive scorpion's stinger. A spider pinned one of her ponies to the ground, then punched a hole in her chest with its front legs. It did it again, and again, and again, until Twilight destroyed it with a flick of her blade.

Twilight allowed herself only a moment to look down at the mare. She wanted to say she was sorry, that she couldn't save them all. But the mare was already dead, eyes filmed over as blood leaked from her mutilated wounds into a pool around her.

This was where Twilight was supposed to get angry, she knew. She ought to have turned around and attacked Titan's army with redoubled efforts. Instead she felt almost numb as she ripped back into the enemy ranks. There was no way they could overcome these numbers. She'd led them into a death trap.

The worst part was that she'd do it again, given the chance. Lying down and submitting to Titan just wasn't an option for her or ponykind. They had to fight, but no matter how great their cause, they were only mortal.

Twilight knew that she couldn't give in to despair. Luna had shown her as much. Even if they were hopelessly outnumbered, even if she couldn't bear to see another pony's dead eyes, she couldn't give up. They would win. They had to.

That was when she heard it—or rather, felt it. The sound came to them from the ground, a deep, faint rumble that was like two boulders being ground together. Twilight barely had time to wonder what it was before leaping back into the fray.

Soon, however, the sound came again, much louder than it had before. This time Twilight recognized what it was: a roar.

Every creature in Titan's army stopped and began to back away across the broken plain. Twilight watched them retreat with awe.

“Stop!” she ordered to her army. “Hold!” She needed to know what was going on before she ordered them back into combat, but she had a feeling it wasn't good.

Thump. A wave of sound hit her, like the beating of an impossibly large drum. The roar sounded again.

Thump. That was when Twilight saw the missing stars. An entire piece of the sky was gone. Or rather, something was blocking it from view.

Thump. Something enormous and perfectly black. “Dragon,” Twilight whispered. “That's Exakktus.”

Thump. The roar he let out was now deafening. Ponies covered their ears.

Thump. “But that would mean...” Applejack began.

Thump. “Fluttershy...” Pinkie Pie looked into the sky.

Thump. The force of his wing beats stirred their manes, and his form began to take shape against the night sky. “She didn't make it,” Rainbow Dash whispered.

Thump. Rarity moved to stand beside Twilight, her mouth a rigid line as she looked up at the approaching dragon. “Twilight,” she said, eyes brimming with tears. “If I make you a knight, will you kill him for me?”

Thump. Exakktus stretched his wings wide to glide toward their position. He was massive—as big as the great hall of Canterlot Castle. Twilight didn't even know if she could fight that. His fire could probably kill her in one go if she wasn't careful.

Had he killed Fluttershy? Or had Fluttershy even made it to his lair? Did she wander through the dark of the forest and fall prey to another monster? Was she afraid in her final moments? Had it been quick and painless?

Twilight had let her go. The first of her friends to die for ponykind's saviour. She had a feeling that Fluttershy wouldn't be the last.

Would Twilight watch them all die, here, tonight? Would she slowly be stripped of her powers and friends until at last she was nothing but a scared little unicorn, alone in a field of corpses? Twilight couldn't face that eventuality. She'd have to die insane.

A familiar, five note tune rang out over the Everfree.

Twilight had never been so glad, so relieved, to hear anypony's voice—to hear anything—as much as Fluttershy's song.

She realized then that she couldn't lose them. Not any of them. They were her entire reason for fighting, her only measure of sanity in an insane world. And if they went, Twilight would go with them.

It didn't matter if she had to wade through the corpses of gods and nightmares to do it, Twilight would make sure her friends were safe.

Exakktus roared, and it was followed again by the closing notes to Fluttershy's song. It was Fluttershy's voice, yes, but it was different somehow. It carried with it an eerie echo, a shadow of itself that carried the sound far and wide.

Suddenly Twilight felt herself remembering what it was like to feel green grass under her hooves on a clear summer day. The cool scent of the Carousel boutique, coupled with the soft sound of fabric and little hum from Rarity. The cloyingly sweet taste of one of Pinkie Pie's cupcakes on her tongue.

Exakktus came in low, swooping over Titan's army and creating a gale of wind between the ground and his enormous wings. He opened his mouth wide, and a sound like a hissing mountain filled the air. Twilight thought that she could make out a small form riding on his neck, yellow and pink, jump into the air. Fluttershy.

Exakktus's fire was almost like an absence of light. It blossomed forth from a jagged maw like a spreading pool of ink, overtaking everything on the ground beneath him. He beat his wings, pushing himself forward and carrying his massive form over Titan's army.

He landed directly between Twilight and The Citadel, at the center of the legion of monsters, and crushed dozens beneath ancient claws. A sweep of his tail killed half a hundred as he began to inhale again with a grinding hiss.

Fluttershy sang her five notes, and a wave of warm feelings washed over Twilight once again. The sound of a bunny happily munching on a carrot. Rainbow Dash ruffling her mane and wearing a cocksure grin. Applejack tossing her an apple that she’d polished on her saddlebag.

Twilight didn't know how, but Fluttershy was calming the entire army in the face of the largest dragon anypony had ever seen. Exakktus was on their side. There was no need to worry. Everything was going to be alright.

Titan's army ran, screeching and wailing, away from Exaktus as he released another gout of pitch-black flame. They clambered past The Citadel, out toward the sides of the depressed battlefield. The ones that had been caught between Exakktus and the army ran toward Twilight. They'd rather face the army of ponykind than Exakktus the Black.

Twilight couldn't blame them. She watched the dragon's fire recede, leaving only a cloud of ash in its wake. Could even she fight something like that?

The fleeing monsters were practically charging now, multitudes of legs carrying them across the broken plain toward the ponies. It was a frantic thing, the desperate attack of a creature backed into a corner. Whereas before they had fought to kill, now they would fight to survive.

Fluttershy glided down through the air, her wings held stiff, and landed beside Twilight. All of them ceased staring at Exakktus, and started staring at Fluttershy.

Thin, vivid green vines wound their way up her legs and around her body, perfectly symmetrical. Here and there, a strangely shaped pair of leaves would adorn her form. They made her look almost feral, like some kind of primal warrior come to deliver nature's wrath.

Atop her head sat an ever-growing, ever-shifting crown, held to her head by thorns driven into her skin. Several trickles of blood ran down from where the crown met flesh. What was it that Terra had been called? The Princess of the Forest.

Her mane billowed about and licked her face, a soft pink aura encasing a hard expression.

“Fluttershy,” Twilight said. “You look...”

“Terrifying,” Rarity said.

Fluttershy looked at each of them in turn, and the tiniest hint of a smile graced her stony features. She turned to face the charging creatures.

“They kill each other,” she said, and her voice was accompanied by that thrum of power. Twilight recognized it almost immediately: it was the same voice alicorns used.

“It's their way,” Fluttershy continued. “They fight and kill and die for food. For territory. For sex. Each of them could live in our world, but they don't. This is what they are. It's what they want to be.”

The sound of their enemy's steps came closer and closer, but nothing could drown out the melody that was Fluttershy's voice.

“As the spider snares the fly and the lizard eats the spider, they kill and they die. It's their way.” Fluttershy looked back, past Twilight and to where Twilight knew lay the mutilated corpses of their fallen. “And for a single night,” she said softly, turning back to the charging army, “it's my way too.”

-

A thanks goes out to The Prereaders

The Immortal's Endgame

The Immortal’s Endgame

Twilight caught Fluttershy's eyes, and they nodded. Equinox fused into a single blade before her, and she raised it high to grab the attention of the remaining troops. “One final time!” she cried, bringing it down to point at the approaching army. She raised her head to give Titan's monsters an imperious stare. “For the end of war!”

Then the creatures of the Everfree, crazed and fighting for their lives, were upon them. Twilight didn't need to do any math. She knew they could win.

Fluttershy made a sound, a single, eerie wail that stopped almost as soon as it had started. A wave seemed to ripple outward from her as her song reached the ears of the army. They seemed to shed some of their exhaustion, standing straighter and focusing on the enemy.

Twilight heard it too. This one was laced with watching Rainbow Dash do a backflip or break through a cloud bank. Were these Fluttershy's memories, or just the feelings associated with them?

Her first foe was a giant scorpion, and she met it with Rainbow Dash at her side. It lashed out with its stinger, and the venomous point crashed against the ground as Twilight rolled past. She slashed at the creature's legs with Equinox, and four of them fell twitching to the earth.

The scorpion recoiled, but Dash had already sprung into the air, wings open, spinning like a dancer as she soaredpast the creature. With a whistle of air, her blade sheared its tail free.

Dash landed, and they stood side by side, moving forward into the enemy swarm. A crunching sound reached their ears as Applejack shattered chitin and crushed the scorpion's brain.

The next several seconds were a blur to Twilight. She remembered monsters coming at her and Dash from all sides, and she remembered that all of them met magic or steel. They moved together, impossibly fast, ducking under one another's blades even as they sheared their enemies into ribbons. Twilight's blades scattered and reformed, Dash called up thunder and lightning, and they cut a swath through the enemy ranks.

With a flash of purple light, Twilight teleported away from Rainbow Dash and to Rarity's side. She appeared in the midst of a teeming pack of spiders and manticores, hoof outstretched, and a striking stinger shattered against the end of her foreleg instead of impaling Rarity through the chest.

Another keening note from Fluttershy. Twilight felt Rarity telling her to speak up, and the confidence that came from knowing Rarity would listen. Yes, these were definitely Fluttershy's experiences.

The manticore roared in pain as it withdrew its severed tail, and Twilight wasted no time. She threw herself up and back, and Vorpal sped through the air beneath her, fourteen gleaming fragments meant to sink into undefended flesh.

As she turned over in the air above Rarity, Twilight looked up to face the spiders on her opposite side. She split Equinox in midair, then sent the blademotes away. Her hooves touched the gravel-crusted ground just as the sound of a dozen thrashing, shrieking spiders met her ears.

She ducked, and Vorpal sped over her. Rarity rolled, and Equinox blazed past her. Their blades reformed, glittering diamond and burning magic, and they brought the enemy in close. Their bladecasting was identical; Twilight preferred Rarity's style to Astor's or Terra's.

Eventually Twilight realized that she was using too much unicorn magic. She'd been fighting almost constantly since the moment they met the enemy in the Everfree, and unless she wanted to hit a magic drag, she'd need to take a break. She'd tried to be conservative—almost all bladecasting and teleportation, two extremely lightweight means—but she was stretching herself too far. It was time to take a break.

Rainbow Dash blitzed to the ground beside Rarity just as Twilight sprang away, ready and able to cover the fragile unicorn while she worked. Twilight dismissed Equinox as she rolled under a spider, then crushed its underbelly in with her hind legs.

Another note from Fluttershy. It hardly sounded like her voice anymore. Twilight felt the thrill of watching Applejack tie a hog while cheering her on. The assurance that Applejack would always be patient with her.

Applejack kicked the dying spider off of Twilight and pulled her to her hooves, her face a mask of grim determination. Twilight nodded to her.

They turned back to Titan's army, deliberately facing the thickest portion of the chittering, savage monstrosities. Then they charged.

Applejack went first, thundering forward on hooves of steel. Her momentum tossed monsters three times her size aside, and she crushed them beneath her legs. Twilight followed, noting with dismay that she was really too light to hurt anything without slowing down.

But the journey wasn't the point. Applejack skidded to halt in the middle of Titan's army, her hooves grinding against dirt and gravel. The point was to put themselves right into the belly of the beasts, to bring themselves to where the enemy was thickest, far away from their own troops, and...

“Rarity?” Twilight said as she slowed to a stop beside Applejack.

Applejack gave a sort of cough as she looked at the ground.

Twilight glanced at the monsters closing in around them. “Whatever.” She'd have to find out why Applejack was avoiding Rarity some other time. For now, business beckoned.

A pack of timberwolves were their first victims. Their alpha launched himself at Twilight, jaws gaping, and Twilight caught its bite with a foreleg. It clamped them down, harder and harder, until Twilight felt teeth splintering against her skin. She tossed it to the dirt between them, and Applejack turned it into kindling with a well-placed stomp.

There was nothing particularly artsy or sophisticated about the way they went about breaking in the enemy lines. They crushed, they bruised, they smashed in heads. While Twilight certainly incorporated the lessons she could draw from Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash, they were more to accentuate Applejack's style of brute force combat. They were savage animals fighting savage monsters.

Twilight felt a tick at the back of her consciousness.

A hundred meters away, Pinkie Pie tightened the bandage around her injured foreleg as she stared down the biggest scorpion any of them had seen. It was a massive specimen, with pincers as big as an adult pony and a stinger that could have easily impaled one of its smaller brethren. Beady, insectile eyes caught sight of Pinkie Pie, and the snap of a pincer could be heard even over the cacophony of war.

Pinkie Pie loaded a blade into the launcher on her good foreleg and charged at it, her hooves dancing over the packed earth. She came at the scorpion, running full tilt into toward its pincers with her woefully tiny blade. Pinkie jumped.

Another incantation of Fluttershy's siren song. Twilight felt the thrill of being with Pinkie Pie in the bakery. Uncertain of just what crazy idea Pinkie Pie would come up with next, but certain that whatever it was it would be tons of fun.

It was as though they had rehearsed it. Twilight popped out of the air beneath her, grabbed her, and tossed her into the air in a graceful arc. As she flew, the launcher attached to Pinkie Pie's wounded foreleg was pulled away by Twilight's magic.

Pinkie Pie turned in the air above the massive scorpion, soaring over it to land in a roll. She rounded on the arachnid as she came to her hooves, leveling her launcher at its back and letting loose with one of her blades. It barely penetrated the creature's chitinous carapace. The scorpion didn't acknowledge the wound at all.

With a tug of magnets and pull of straps, the second launcher wrapped itself around Twilight's foreleg. She dipped into her unicorn magic, lightly touching the enchantments wrapped around the device. They were her spells, and it was easy to feed them more magic. She tugged on the blade lodged in the scorpion's armor.

It made no sound as it passed through the giant insect, cutting a hole through its insides and whirring through the air to attach itself to Twilight's foreleg, trailing ichor. The creature collapsed, but Twilight had already teleported behind it and to Pinkie Pie's side. Pinkie loaded another blade onto her arm and grinned at the horde of monsters that surrounded them.

“Our kung fu...” she said, “is stronger.” Twilight rolled her eyes. Even though Pinkie Pie was telling the truth.

Fighting with Pinkie Pie was a different experience. They moved together, so close and synchronized that they might as well have been one being—though, with their harmonic connection, they were the closest they could get. Pinkie Pie's style of fighting was unorthodox. Rarely did they use the same set of limbs to keep themselves on the ground for more than a second at a time—and that was if they were even on the ground at all.

Twilight flailed Pinkie Pie around like a club. They traded blades at least a dozen times. They danced on the back of spiders, scooched under manticores, and bounced over timberwolves as they maneuvered around the battlefield. For a moment, Twilight almost forgot the nature of what they were doing and started to have fun.

She was drawn back to the present by an absence of enemies, a lack of things to kill. Twilight threw out her magical senses, searching for the next wave now that Pinkie was safe.

She found none. They'd won.

A final note. Twilight was... watching Twilight.

Watching Twilight Sparkle lose control because her letter to Celestia was going to be late. Seeing her mane disheveled, her eyes wild, hearing the crack in her voice.

Then she saw Twilight giving orders. Presenting awards. Assuaging an entire town's fears in the face of a dragon, organizing the first ever punctual Winter Wrap Up. She saw Twilight's confidence, her strength, her determination, and she felt it too.

“You think you're not worthy enough for them,” Fluttershy said, landing beside Twilight with hardly a sound. She was facing back, away from Twilight.

Twilight turned back to look at the army. Her army.

They'd made it through, but they were at their limit. Ponies crawled out from under the corpses of creatures five times their size, blood and ichor matting their coats. Ponies were spread across the ground in bits and pieces, ruined heaps of flesh that couldn't possibly have once fit together to make a living thing. Twilight had brought them the worst of nightmares.

The living looked around at the carnage with empty stares or faces twisted into expressions of horror. They gathered around the dying, those wounded beyond the point of recovery, and said whatever words they could. Twilight tried to get an idea of how many they'd lost.

There was no way to count how many ponies were missing by this point, but it was at least thirty percent, Twilight reasoned. Thirty percent. Armies were supposed to break by twenty. Was it desperation that had kept them fighting, or her?

“They love you,” Fluttershy said. “I love you. All of us love you. You have to understand, Twilight—“

There was a sound like the crack of a whip, magnified ten thousand fold. A shrieking whistle followed it, growing closer and closer every second.

Twilight frowned, glancing at Exakktus. The dragon stood before The Citadel, not a creature near him, impassive. He wasn't making whatever that noise was.

She looked up, searching outward with her magical senses. “What—“

She felt it almost instantly, mere seconds after the noise had started. It was just so fast. Her eyes barely had time to widen.

The projectile struck the ground a long way behind them, near the edge of the army, and the ground erupted into an explosion of dirt, gravel, and stone. The earth beneath Twilight seized in proximity to the blast, and hundreds of ponies lost their balance and fell as a tremendous shock wave barreled through the broken plain. How many dozens of her ponies had just died in the space of a heartbeat?

A crack like a whip. A keening whistle, growing deeper as it came closer to them.

“No,” Twilight whispered.

Actions came before thought. Twilight pushed outward with her magical senses—farther than she ever had before—and found the approaching war spell. It was simple in its design, but not easy. A lattice of spells constructed to penetrate any defense and deliver an inordinate amount of force. She tried to work the magic, unwind it and ruin the spell. Titan designed his defenses in a line, if she just started at the only breakable point and constructed a spell to shatter each defense simultaneously...

An explosion rocked the earth beneath her once again as Titan's second spell struck the midst of the army. Twilight heard screams as the rubble from the blast rained down on any survivors close enough.

“No!” she sobbed.

A crack like a whip. A whistling shriek.

There was a very easy way to stop Titan's war spell, Twilight realized. It was just an explosive projectile, after all. Any spell that had to go somewhere could be disrupted by putting something in the way: that was the entire premise of moment fields and force fields. For Titan's spell, she'd just need something strong, sturdy, and mobile.

Herself, of course.

Twilight threw herself through space to come out in the air above the battlefield. For a moment, she hovered there, staring up at the starry sky and the looming edge of the megastorm as it was pulled toward Canterlot. And above her, a faint white speck moving incredibly fast, was Titan's spell.

She hardened her skin with earthpony magic, threw up the toughest moment field she could manage, then curled up into a ball and intercepted a spell meant to kill dozens.

Her barrier helped, creating enough resistance to cause Titan's spell to explode.

Twilight thought she'd remember what happened after that, but she didn't. There was no sudden wave of force, no loud noise. She didn't even remember falling through the air. One moment she was looking up at Titan's spell, the next she was reknitting bones in the dirt.

Titan's magic wasn't just sophisticated, it was powerful. It had a kind of brute force that Twilight both longed for and despised, the power of an alicorn over three thousand years old. Defense was untenable. Had she forgotten that, revelling in her own strength? Or did she just not care? For the first time that night, Twilight had almost died.

A crack like a whip. A whistling shriek.

“Twilight!” Applejack shouted from somewhere far off.

Twilight couldn't help but feel a little relieved at the chance to show them that she was trying. For too long she'd pretended to be their new god, issuing orders and spending lives without giving them anything in return. Here at least she could prove that she was willing to die for them. That to her they weren't worth anything less. She could never earn the devotion that they gave her, and she could never repay the lives of the fallen, but this was as close as she'd get. If she was unworthy, at least she wasn't a pretender.

And once more she was in the air, experiencing that blissful moment of calm before total annihilation. The Citadel was in her field of vision this time, hanging at the edge of her peripheral and glowing with Titan's power. It was beautiful, Twilight decided, even if it was going to be the doom of their race. Beautiful and terrible, just like the gods that built it.

Titan's war spell did not hit her directly, but broke open and detonated against her shield. It had been designed to burrow through defenses before breaking, and Twilight's moment field might as well have been three meters of rock and soil on the ground below. It was interesting to note that the spell wasn't made to kill large groups; it was to do battle with an individual.

Which was probably why he had packaged it in so many defenses. It was a spell gift-wrapped and tagged just for Twilight Sparkle. Twilight was fine with that. She had a spell just for him, too.

Again she felt nothing as the incandescent white missile burst right above her body. Did her heart stop? Did she lose consciousness? How far was Twilight able to slip into death before her earthpony magic couldn't bring her back out again? She was straddling the line, and she had no idea if she had enough power to survive another blast.

Twilight assumed that she fell limply out of the sky, a glowing purple streak of light. What would the army think, seeing her fall like that? Would they think that she was being a fool, or a hero? Could they understand that there was no way she could not do this?

Rainbow Dash must have caught her at some point, because when Twilight came to she was putting herself together in Dash's hooves as they glided to the ground.

“Twilight!” Dash shouted. “If you do that again you're going to kill yourself!” They landed amidst their friends.

Twilight struggled to her hooves and popped a shoulder back into place. “And if I don't, dozens of ours will die. Again.”

“Then don't,” Fluttershy said. Everypony turned to her, and she added in a voice that was no less firm: “Please.”

Twilight cast out her magical senses, searching for the next magic missile—and distracting herself from the idea that Fluttershy would advocate the death of dozens if it meant saving Twilight's life.

“Twilight,” Applejack said. “You don't understand. The effect you can have. We—“

Twilight's voice became flat and dull. “The argument is academic.” She closed her eyes, then faced The Citadel and Exakktus. “He's here.”

Had she forgotten that Luna and Celestia were fighting the King? Even if they succeeded at The Citadel, ponykind's fate would still be decided by their victory. And here was Titan, with Luna and Celestia nowhere to be seen.

For the barest instant, Twilight gritted her teeth with rage. Was this it, then? Had Luna assured Twilight that they still had hope and then flown off to die?

Was she angry at Luna, or her own helplessness? Twilight had always somehow worked under the assumption that if they lost it would be her fault. That if they won, it would be her victory. She frowned. For somepony who despised the idea of being a god, she was certainly developing a godlike sense of arrogance.

“Titan!” she shouted, looking up. She'd meant it to come out as a warning to the army. Instead it sounded almost like a challenge.

Titan struck the ground between Twilight and Exakktus, his hooves splitting a stone as large as a wagon. He was wearing his armor, and in the night his mane and eyes shone like beacons. He raised his head, and everything for miles fell silent.

“Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight felt the eyes of hundreds of ponies on her back. What did they expect? That she'd fight the King to the death and save them all. She could barely do anything here. Barely.

Keep him talking.

“Luna?” Twilight asked him, trying desperately to keep her voice steady. “Celestia?” It cracked. Desperation, fear, hope—all of them leaked into that one word. It was like Twilight was back in Ponyville sending friendship reports, and Celestia was still, well Celestia. She couldn't die. And if she did, what then? Twilight Sparkle would have no teacher anymore. She'd be lost.

Titan gazed at her from across what seemed such a small distance, and Twilight once again felt that crawling feeling of insignificance. He tilted his head an imperceptible distance to one side, and she realized her mistake.

“A mortal does not ask a god questions, Twilight Sparkle.”

Singularity darkened the air around him as he swept it in an arc. He did it with the speed of a three thousand year alicorn, and there was nothing Twilight could do to stop him.

His spell came in a wave of oily darkness. Twilight saw it approaching, faster than any wave of water could, and frantically tried to analyze it with her magical senses. She might as well have tried to read a book in the seconds it took to reach them, a wall of choking black that threatened to suffocate her and the dozens of ponies around her.

She took every shield spell she knew, desperate for a way to stop whatever it was that Titan had thrown at them. If she shielded for everything, then whatever the spell actually did would fail.

Her magic took the same form it always did—a thin barrier of purple light, arcing outward to span the width of the wave. Her horn burned with the power she was funneling into the spell.

The wave overtook her shield as though it wasn't there at all. Washing up and over the wall she'd created to continue its inexorable advance.

Twilight hardly thought at all. She grabbed each of her friends with her mind and teleported them to the other side of the wave, leaving dozens of ponies behind them to fend for themselves.

She felt numb as her hooves touched the ground. So much for earning their devotion, when she'd gladly let them die to save her own.

Her friends. They stood around her, and Twilight sent her intention to them as she began to tap the Elements of Harmony, drawing on their incredible source of power as a last ditch effort. She focused on Titan, still far away from them, as each of the links to her friends began to thrum in her mind.

“No,” Titan said as his horn flashed.

It was like being backhoofed across the face. Her spell just... stopped. Like someone had pulled a book away from her mid-sentence and tossed it in the fire.

“Damn you,” Twilight whispered.

Titan split his blade and threw the fragments at them like he was just scratching another item off a to-do list. Dark orbs sped toward them, impossible to see against the night.

Twilight called up Equinox and split it into enough parts to intercept Titan's blademotes. She threw them out, charging each with as much power as she possibly could. Her head ached, and her thoughts blurred into one another, but she pressed on. She couldn't afford to run out of power, not now.

Their blades met, and Twilight's went out like like a candle flame in a hurricane. Half a dozen orbs of darkness came at her.

They were intercepted by fourteen glimmering diamonds, which fell from the air as Titan's blademotes overwhelmed them. There were only three of Singularity's shards left now. And every one of them changed its course to fall toward Rarity.

Twilight reached out to teleport her out of the way, and nothing happened. Her magic failed, expended until she could gather enough strength again. Rarity was alone.

Rarity began to call Vorpal back to herself, but it was far too slow compared to the King's weapon. Applejack jumped to catch her, throwing herself so that she'd be in the way of Titan's blade...

With a contemptuous twist of his mouth, Titan's horn glowed. And three points of darkness accelerated to sink into Rarity's chest before Applejack pinned her to the ground.

The harmonic connection that Twilight felt with Rarity didn't go out. That meant that Rarity was still alive, even though she had stopped moving. The spells on her robe must have stopped most of the harm. That had to be true. Rarity couldn't die. Twilight would be lost.

She barely noticed Titan drawing his blade out of the air beside him and throwing it forward in another shatter. What she did notice was Exakktus's wing, coming down to envelop the King and obscuring him from sight.

Exakktus breathed out with the roar of an erupting volcano, and the inky black flames poured forth to fill the space between his wing and his maw. They doubled, then redoubled, heating the enclosed space past the point that would boil iron. Exakktus kept going, heating stones a dozen meters away from the flames to incandescence. Twilight would have burned, were it not for her protective enchantments.

A tremendous crack rang out over the Everfree as a skull as thick as a tree trunk shattered into thousands of fragments. Gore and shards of bone exploded from a hole in Exakktus's head, and the flames coming from his mouth ceased. He collapsed, the light in his eyes dying like fading embers.

A slit was cut in the dead dragon's wing as it folded inward, and Titan stepped out into the night air once again. Or at least, what was left of him did.

Backlit by the light along the Citadel, Titan was bone wrapped in glistening sinew. Slender for a pony so tall, his wings spanned out behind him, a set of thin white fingers clawing at the air around him. Twilight could see his tongue grow into his mouth, his tendons and muscles expanding. All of his flesh was bloodless. She wasn't surprised. He had no eyes, but they still burned, two pinpoints of light in the dead sockets of the skeleton king.

“No,” Applejack was whimpering, her hooves holding either side of Rarity's limp head. “No, no no...”

Twilight looked down at Rarity and felt magic come to her in a surge of vengeful hatred. “Kill him,” she said, letting her voice reverberate over the battlefield.

An army obeyed her. Metal shards and magic missiles were fired at the king by the dozens. Thin streaks of lightning danced toward him through the air above. Soon, Titan was in the midst of a hailstorm of tiny blows.

The skeletal pony weathered them with disinterest, looking on as steel bounced harmlessly off his pale flesh. His mouth opened, and a grey tongue formed words without using lips. “Die now.”

Twilight whispered, “No.”

The stream of iron crossed the distance between them near-instantaneously, a searing beam of white-hot molten metal. It took Titan in the chest, carving a hole through his ribcage and sinking into the wall of the citadel behind him. Twilight's war-spell held so much kinetic energy that Titan's body never even got to absorb most of the blow; he still stood as it cut through him, a wraithlike monster impaled on a spear of light. Titan tilted his head to the side.

She cleaved him in two with a simple readjustment of her spell's angle, and his legs fell away along with a sizable portion of his lower abdomen. His upper body stood on its own in the air, held aloft by what Twilight presumed was Titan's magic.

He burst into flames as his legs picked themselves up off the ground. Twilight's mouth fell open. Any mortal pony would die outright to that heat, let alone the massive amount of kinetic energy. And still Titan stood, staring on at her as though she was a passing interest.

She ran out of iron. Titan's body pulled itself together almost immediately, still only a skeleton covered in glistening white musculature. She looked past him, at the glowering slash she had sheared into the Citadel. In a ripple of growing tissue, Titan covered himself in skin and hair, and eyes formed over the glow in his empty sockets. He seemed to do it almost as an afterthought—had he even realized he hadn't been wearing any skin?

“No freedom,” Titan said, his mind-shattering voice drifting out over the broken plain. “No will. No love. No morality.” He cast Singularity once more, leveling it at Twilight. “No hope.”

Luna hit the ground first, shrouded in darkness and diving through the sky, Nadir a silver streak of light at her side. She didn't slow down and strike a pose like her father had, or stop to talk—she rolled right into a combat stance and started into her father.

Titan acted appropriately, taking a step forward and maneuvering Singularity with his direct style. It struck Nadir once, and Luna's blade flickered under the superior power of her father’s weapon. He began to advance, and Singularity took a large gash out of Luna's chest.

Twilight started preparing another round of iron. “Luna!” she shouted. The princess barely acknowledged her with a slight glance over her shoulder, then returned her focus to the King. “Remember what you told me!”

Luna ducked and wove around Titan's blade, then somehow managed to sneak in a stab. She dodged another flurry of blows, moving so quickly that it almost seemed she was prescient of them. Titan brought his hind legs up in a kick, and Luna rolled under him and brought Nadir down on his head. He had to back away.

It was far easier to see Celestia's approach than it had been Luna's. She was like a newborn star, a pure white alicorn covered in gleaming gold armor and trailing a blade of fire. She hit the ground like a meteor, and Titan split Singularity into two parts.

The King stopped as he held Celestia and Luna's blades at bay with his own, then looked over to Twilight. Twilight could almost see the thought process flash through his eyes, almost feel his magical senses reach out and touch her god-slaying spell as it neared completion. Fighting all three of them would be dangerous.

He took off, throwing out a ripple of compressed air as he moved straight upwards into the sky. Luna followed immediately. Celestia turned to Twilight, swallowed, nodded once, then followed. In a matter of seconds, they'd come and gone.

Her situation came back to her with freezing clarity. Titan's imminent spell. The Citadel. Rarity.

Applejack was lying beside Rarity in the dirt, tears streaming down her face. “She won't wake up,” Applejack said as Twilight lay down at her side. “S-she just...”

Twilight fell to the ground beside her and reached out with her magical senses. “Titan's magic,” she said softly. “It's inside her.” She tore off the front part of Rarity's robe to examine her wounds. Applejack let out a piteous groan.

Three blackened and puckered holes marred Rarity's normally pristine coat. The hair around them had melted away, and the flesh had become mottled and depressed, but it didn't look like it had been punctured.

Applejack's voice trembled. “Can you help her?”

Twilight slowly ran a hoof across the marks on Rarity's flesh as she watched it rise and fall erratically with her breathing. “No,” she whispered. “I don't know anything about medicine, magical or mundane. I can kill a pony in the space of a heartbeat a hundred different ways, and I don't know how to heal.”

Fluttershy stared down at Rarity, her lip trembling. “B-b-but we need her. For the Elements.”

“She's still alive,” Twilight said. She turned to Applejack. “Carry her. We're going into The Citadel. Everyone stand back while I open it.”

Twilight took several steps forward and faced the massive edifice of the closest arm. It had healed the damage she'd dealt to it while they were examining Rarity, the strange metal shedding iron and sealing itself into an unmarked whole.

“You can open it?” Rainbow Dash asked from behind Twilight. “Like, with a spell?”

Twilight released her war-spell, and there was a screaming roar of superheated air as a thin lance of boiling iron cut a circular opening from The Citadel. It fell away, revealing only darkness within.

“Yeah,” Twilight said. “Like, with a spell. Now come on before it repairs itself.”

Twilight led the way. Over stone and dirt that had been turned to cooling slag and glass, she led her shell-shocked companions. That Rarity was unconscious and dying meant nothing in the face of Ponykind's annihilation, or so she told herself. Maybe they'd fix everything, and inside The Citadel would be some magic that could heal her. And then it would bring back everyone else, too. Every faceless pony she'd ask to die screaming so that Ponykind would have a chance.

And while it was at it, it could make her love Celestia again.

“Twilight?” Fluttershy asked.

Twilight realized she'd stopped moving and had fallen onto the flat of her forelegs. “I'm okay,” she said quickly. “We have to keep going.”

“Twilight...”

“We can do this,” Twilight said firmly. “There is still hope. I just have to remember what Luna told me.”

Fluttershy helped Twilight to her hooves. “What Luna told you?”

Twilight nodded. “Last night, she—“

“Luna wasn't with you last night. She was with me.”

Twilight frowned. “She came by the library after the sun had gone down, Fluttershy. She—“

“She slept in my living room, Twilight. We talked about Exakktus all night.”

Twilight shook her head. “No, she—“

Suddenly, Twilight was back in the library. “Your mind is not unlike Celestia's, and she has been having similar troubles.”

Twilight swallowed. “Are you here because of her?”

“No, Twilight Sparkle. I am here for you,” Luna had said.

Twilight remembered seeing Luna step into the candlelight, thinking that the princess looked almost unreal and indistinct. She thought back to when she'd looked into Luna's eyes—something she'd never really done before—and felt a vague tinge of familiarity.

Twilight was back in Sugarcube Corner, arguing with Celestia about the speech she would give to the army.

“That's dishonest,” she'd said.

“It is. But we won't tell them anything that isn't true by itself, we'll just make sure they hear it from somepony that they'll listen to.”

“Celestia,” Twilight whispered. “It was Celestia.” Her head snapped up to Fluttershy, then toward the Citadel and the sky beyond. “We have to go.”

Twilight led them along the last stretch of ground before The Citadel and stopped just before the gaping hole left by her war spell. The metal had cooled, and was already beginning to restructure itself, crystalline lattices growing and joining along its edges. Twilight stepped over the threshold and into The Citadel.

It was like entering another world.

The Citadel was made of an alloy Twilight didn't understand, but whatever it was, it was silver white and incredibly dense. Grooves were carved along the inside walls, just like the outside, and were filled with the light of Titan's magic. The center was dominated by a column of white light, which was orbited by tens of thousands of glowing shards.

As she entered, she felt the oppressive wall of anti-teleportation magic engulf her, along with something else entirely. It was a field of unicorn magic, certainly, but it wasn't aimed at other unicorn magic. It was the reason Twilight had never seen anypony other than Titan fly in The Citadel. An anti-flight field. Even developing that kind of spell was against the rules of unicorn magic. Twilight's friends filed in behind her.

“Right,” Twilight said. “The only way I can stop Titan's spell is if I seize control of The Citadel.”

“You can do that?” Dash asked.

“Hopefully,” Twilight said. “It will be a lot easier without him here. We can't fly, so we're going to have to ascend.” She looked up, past dozens of rings of shards to the distant upper level of The Citadel. “Might as well start now.” Twilight closed her eyes and reached out to The Citadel.

What she touched was not at all what she'd been expecting. Titan's magic had always been direct but powerful, efficient and to the point. Titan thought in straight lines.

Evidently, Harmony did not.

The defenses surrounding the Citadel were the most convoluted series of spells Twilight had ever seen. It was chaos, barely conceivable madness. With Titan the answer was obvious but not reachable—simple, but not easy. Harmony's defenses were less about power and more about understanding—they were anything but flawless, but even looking at them gave Twilight a headache. It was a maze.

Twilight could have smiled in lighter circumstances. She was actually quite good at mazes. She'd been trained by Celestia herself, the princess who ruled the world.

Celestia who had manipulated her yet again by disguising herself as Princess Luna. What goal had she been trying to accomplish when she'd come to the library and spoken to Twilight of magic and hope? Twilight felt her ears burn with rage at the thought of being caught in another one of her old teacher's lies and half-truths. Why couldn't Celestia just leave her be?

“Purple shards are ours,” Twilight said as she wrested control of her first several dozen shards and had them assemble before them into a set of steps. “White shards are Titan's. Follow me.” She began to run up the illuminated stairway.

She didn't look back, because she couldn't bear to see the looks on their faces. Rarity would still be slung over Applejack's back, dying. How could Twilight ever justify spending the lives of her friends?

We can’t ever hope to deserve the trust they give us, Celestia had said. But we can try.

Try how? Nothing she could do could ever repay Rarity's generosity.

Twilight was brought out of her reverie by a hundred shards of metal slamming into her from the side. She was pushed off her glowing purple steps and into the yawning abyss beyond.

Immediately she threw a dozen platforms underneath her to catch her fall, rolled to her hooves, then jumped back to a lower section of the stairs. Twilight landed, then spun to see a thousand metal fragments converge on the place where she had just stood.

None of them were bigger than one of her hooves, and all of them were made out of the same strange metal of The Citadel. They glowed with the light of Titan's magic, and as Twilight watched, they bunched together to form one cohesive swarm of spinning blades.

“What is that thing?” Dash shouted from ahead on the steps.

Twilight regarded it, and her shoulders sagged. No more fighting, they were so close...

“Terra has puppets,” she said. “I'm guessing Titan has that.”

“How do we fight it?” Fluttershy asked in an even tone.

Twilight closed her eyes. That thing wasn't killable. It was Titan's guardian. A machine creature for a machine pony, with a machine heart and a machine mind. “We keep moving. We survive. And when I control The Citadel, I'll control it too.”

Twilight split her mind two ways. She'd need one mind to fight with her friends and keep them safe. Her first mind could do that. It was already charging up the steps.

But she would have to seize control of The Citadel, unraveling the complex tangle of magic that was Harmony's deterrent. Every time she pulled part of the tangle apart, more of the floating shards became hers.

And she used them. They provided steps to stand on as they ascended The Citadel. They could form together to create a shield wall to protect from Titan's lunging bladestorm. They were springboards for Pinkie to jump off of.

They needed all of these things. Twilight's first mind fought a pitched battle against the bladestorm with the help of her friends. Attacking the thing was useless—any shards of metal she could knock out of the air would quickly reincorporate themselves into the swarm. Instead she fought a battle of barriers and avoidance, draining her magical reserves dry in an effort to keep them safe. And slowly, they advanced.

It wasn't fast enough, though. As she worked within The Citadel, Twilight began to get a sense of Titan's spell. It was almost done. The entire race of ponies would cease to be in mere minutes. The light of the beam at The Citadel's heart began to intensify, casting them into a world made entirely of stark shadows.

“You make others want to be... better. More than what they once were.”

What had Celestia meant by that? Twilight Sparkle had become a symbol to ponykind. A god. By definition, she wasn't just a pony, she was more. But the real Twilight was just a pony. Celestia had to know that, because Celestia had seen her despairing not moments before.

Had she taken advantage of Twilight's emotional state? No. Nothing Celestia had said had anything to do with their relationship. In fact, when asked about Celestia, “Luna” had deflected the question and brought up Twilight instead.

Slowly, in the heat of pitched combat, Twilight realized that Celestia hadn't had any ulterior motives. She'd just come to make sure Twilight was okay.

Minutes plural became minute singular, and Twilight had perhaps a third of The Citadel in her grasp. She needed to pick up the pace.

They could beat the bladestorm, Twilight's first mind observed. If they were careful, then it was only a nuisance until they took The Citadel. A flood of relief shot through her even as their first mind tossed them in front of a salvo of blades meant for Rainbow Dash. At least something was going right.

Twilight couldn't take her mind off Celestia as she worked frantically to seize control. It nagged at her, as though it was the key to something important. What was she missing?

Celestia had spent their last night alive making sure the mare who despised her still had hope. Celestia, who no doubt had been thinking the same thoughts that Twilight had. No one had been there to set the princess's mind at ease, that night. She loved Twilight, and to speak to her again she'd had to use a spell to disguise herself.

Celestia had fallen from the sky to save Twilight from Terra, gladly offering up her own life in exchange. But Celestia had also thrown Twilight into a war. Twilight understood exactly why Celestia had done it, she just couldn't forgive her for it. Why not?

The answer was simple: she wanted Celestia to be a god. Infallible. Perfect. Accountable. Celestia wasn't Twilight's god, couldn't be Twilight's god anymore, but the things she'd done should have made her a friend.

And Twilight might never see her again.

Twilight's first mind placed a hoof down, expecting it to land on another step. It didn't.

They'd reached the upper ring of The Citadel, faster than Twilight would have thought possible—the platforms must have also been lifting them more than she'd realized. Her first mind dove under a swarm of hundreds of razor sharp blades, and they bit into her hardened skin as Twilight came up into a roll.

The shaft of light at the center of The Citadel was almost blinding by now, such was its intensity. It cast them into a world without color, and Twilight's black blood fell to the silver platforms below. Her friends fought as silhouettes and beings of light, doing everything they could to deter Titan's inexorable minion.

A minute became seconds. Twilight wasn't half finished. They weren't going to make it in time. Titan's spell was about to travel up and out of The Citadel where it would expand to engulf all of Ponykind. Twilight needed to focus. She needed to put everything she had into untangling Harmony's giant knot, but the bladestorm demanded her attention.

Fourteen diamonds, brilliant in the light of Titan's spell, sped past Twilight to knock as many shards of metal out of the air. The bladestorm fragments fell away, sheared in two, and Vorpal turned back to its work, its diamonds flinging themselves on their own courses to intercept every razor sharp shard that went for their friends.

Twilight turned to see Rarity, standing atop a floating purple platform, a look of intense concentration on her face.

She was dying. There could be no doubt about that. Flesh along her face and sides had turned black and dead, and Twilight's magical senses revealed the extent of Titan's strike. The magic was eating her heart.

“Do it,” Rarity said as Twilight watched her. “Do it!” She gritted her teeth as Vorpal held a storm of steel at bay in a midst of blue sparks. “I can give. You. This.”

Twilight nodded. It was all she could do.

Then two minds set themselves against Harmony's defenses, claiming The Citadel as her own far faster than she had before. She pulled apart the threads of its defenses, slowly revealing Titan's spell, which was heartbeats away from release...

She had just over half The Citadel under her control. Her heart thundered in her ears.

She wasn't going to make it.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that they could have come this far and fail when all Titan had done was callously play his hand. It wasn't fair that with a careless sweep of his mind, he could kill one of Twilight's best friends. It wasn't fair that despite her supposed godhood, she couldn't protect any of them.

Twilight looked at her friends one last time. Every inch of them was illuminated by Titan's spell, now, cast into a harsh white light that made each detail easy to make out. The angry focus on Rarity's face even as tendrils of darkness moved to claim that, too. Twilight wondered if Rarity had realized that her heart had stopped beating seconds ago.

Applejack had her body covering Pinkie Pie, and tears were streaming down her face—for Rarity, no doubt. The reality of their situation would have dawned on Applejack first, of all of them. Her pragmatism was her curse.

Dash was in the air despite not being able to fold air under her wings—she'd just jumped instead. Her teeth were gritted, her eyes set and determined. Twilight had little doubt that even fighting a storm of blades, Dash would either fight until she won, or simply fight forever.

Fluttershy had a gash in one cheek, and the blood running from the wound joined the dried trails leading down from her crown of thorns. She still looked unreal, like a wrathful deity. A newborn god.

Pinkie Pie saw Twilight Sparkle and smiled.

“The effect that you can have...” Celestia had said.

Maybe Twilight didn't think she was the pony they made her out to be—Celestia, her friends, ponykind. But if they could put their trust in her, then she could put her trust in them. If they believed that she was their saviour, then she could, she would, be that saviour. She'd wear the mantle of command for them, for as long as she had to.

Because now she had a chance to earn it. A spell was about to be released, up and away, to eradicate everything inside every pony, everywhere, that made them special. Unless something made it miss.

It would have to be something incredibly strong and powerful, and there was only one thing that could possibly do that. A pony so mighty she was practically a god. A pony who didn't need to do this to prove that she was worth ponykind's devotion, because they already believed that to be true, and that made it true.

Pinkie Pie's smile faded. Her eyes widened.

It had taken her to the very end, but Twilight was happy again. With who she was, with what she was, and with the ponies around her. The thought left her mind and found Pinkie's. “I love you. All of you. And I love Celestia, too. Make sure to tell her.”

With that, Twilight closed her eyes, turned to face the doom of her species, and jumped.

“I've never asked you. I've always been afraid of the answer. Did you foresee my betrayal? Did you know I would become Nightmare Moon?”

Singularity passed so close to Celestia's face that it took a thin layer of hair away with it as the blade continued along its course. The tiny fibers were immediately swept away by the storm, microscopic iota caught in the midst of a war between gods.

Luna's question registered in Celestia's mind as she absorbed a lightning bolt with Zenith, then struck out at their father. He blocked, of course, but that was to be expected. Celestia's designs rarely ever were one step, even in spur of the moment combat.

“You need to know now? We're supposed to be coordinating.”

She threw herself backwards and into the storm, and the King did not pursue her. Instead, her turned on Luna, then rained a hail of blow down upon her. Celestia poised herself against a cloud with her wings spread wide, searching for the perfect opening...

“Whether we win or lose, I don't want to have any loose ends. There is only one thing that still troubles me in all the world, Celestia. Did you know I was going to betray you?”

Left flank up. Right hind leg down. Celestia saw her opening.

She froze. What was she going to tell Luna?

A lie would optimize Luna's effectiveness in combat and increase their chances of victory against the king. It would be good for her in the long run, too. They'd need to be able to work together to rebuild Equestria. A lie, however, was totally out of the question.

“I saw your resentment and I knew that it was only a matter of time. I just didn't expect for you to take up the Sliver.”

Celestia threw herself back into the fray, diverting Titan's attentions with a series of sweeps from her blade while Luna struck him with a brilliant green crack of thunder. He staggered back, and Zenith punched a hole through his back.

“Then why didn't you stop me? You could have. I know you, Celestia. You don't need magic to make a pony do what you want.”

Luna's words stung, but they were true. Celestia had a thousand years of unopposed rule to attest to that. Titan knocked them both away with a blast of pure force, then charged at Celestia through the turbulent air. She felt rather than heard the sound barrier break as he collided with her.

“I wanted you to be your own mare. I didn't want to be like him. It broke my heart, Luna, when you became so broken. But that was the path you chose.”

Titan never got to press his advantage. A million trails of shadows converged behind him, and Luna swung Nadir downward as a sheet of darkness slithered up his legs.

“As paths go, it cannot have been the worst one. It led us here, after all.”

Celestia cast a beam of liquid sunfire, and it burned away Titan's wings in seconds. He began to fall, and they dove after him, two trails of light streaking down through the megastorm.

“What do you mean?”

Now they fought in free-fall, using their pegasus magic to guide their descent. They twisted and writhed in the air, over and around Titan's blades as their own weapons slithered between his defenses.

“That I forgive you. And that I see you now as a being so fraught with flaws that you cannot help but be beautiful. You grieve over the lost. You worry for Twilight Sparkle. You lie, and you're proud, and you wonder whether or not what you're doing is right. You're a pony, Celestia, just like me. And it's taken me this long to see it.”

In the spinning, rushing chaos of falling through the storm while engaged in pitched combat, past Zenith, over Singularity and her father, and just above Nadir, Celestia found Luna's eyes. They were still cool, and focused, but not nearly as distant as Celestia remembered them. Luna continued:

“I used to fight only for you. I couldn't even cast Nadir until I knew that you were alive. I'd carry around this tiny figurine of you, and wonder what you'd do in my hooves. Now Nadir comes easier than it ever has.”

“What happened?”

“I met Twilight's friends. And then I met Twilight. She disagreed with almost everything I had to say. She wasn't afraid to stop believing in gods.”

The gods fell, their blades making flashes of light and thunderclaps of sound as they met one another, Celestia and Luna's wings beating frantically to keep them level with Titan. The ground was coming up fast, but Celestia saw that it wasn't the green grass and packed earth that she'd expected. They'd been fighting over the stretch outside the Everfree for some time now, the storm too high to touch the ground.

Below them was the western gate of Canterlot—or what had been the western gate. It was still a ruin from when it had been dropped on Terra, so many nights ago. Still, they'd reached Canterlot already, which meant they'd been fighting for a very long time. How much fight did Luna and Celestia have left in them? Moreover, how weak was Titan? It was impossible to tell. They could all look perfect until they reached the very dregs of their power.

Celestia flared her wings to slow her fall, and Luna followed suit. Titan didn't bother—his flesh could easily absorb the shock of hitting the ground at terminal velocity. Hooves shattered the stones beneath as he landed in a crouch on the road leading into Canterlot. In the still air beneath the storm, the sound he made reached their ears with perfect clarity.

Celestia hit the ground to one side of him, Luna the other. They moved in.

“Right eyebrow quirked. Left haunch tensed. Duck and stab at mid-rib.”

Luna ducked before Titan's strike ever came, stabbing out to catch him in the chest with Nadir. He brought the second half of Singularity up to divert her blade.

Left shoulder loosening, back legs tightening. He's about to throw her away and turn on me.

Titan thrust forward with both his blades, and Luna was sent reeling back. He spun to face Celestia, but Zenith buried itself in his chest as she stepped neatly out of the way of his blade. His horn began to glow.

Accessing repertoire of spells. Something to knock me back, but would Titan settle for only that? No, he'd want to leave her compromised so he could tear into Luna. Beating them one at a time was his method. Time was not on his side, however.

“His spell is about to stagger him. Use your advantage.”

It was a missile, an exploding projectile wrapped in a cushion of force. Celestia twisted out of the way and let it graze her, and a wall of concussive power threw her back and away from the King, tearing skin from her body in places.

It also sent Titan reeling for the barest of seconds, allowing Luna to slice off his wings again. He spun to face her, and she vanished into a cloud of darkness that streamed through the air to Celestia's side.

Celestia didn't wait for her wounds to heal. Titan had no wings for the next several seconds, which meant no focus for his pegasus magic, and they were going to capitalize on that weakness.

At their command lightning tore at the blackened clouds above and split the sky to meet them. Twin bolts struck Zenith and Nadir, then blazed forward to break against the King. They speared him through the chest, cooking flesh and stopping organs even as Celestia and Luna rushed forward to meet him.

He would be weak, now. At his worst. Burned and mutilated, Titan wouldn't be able to focus on the conflict and healing at the same time and do both effectively. They'd put him at a disadvantage, and if they pressed it, it wasn't one he'd be able to recover from.

The first rule of immortality was that you would die, eventually. Finally Titan would face a rule that applied to even him.

But something was wrong. As they closed the distance to the King, his face flashed with the barest trace of emotion. It wasn't fear. It was annoyance. Celestia didn't know what that meant.

“Shoulders set. Legs spread. He's preparing to meet both our blades in parallel. Feint and roll past him.”

They led with their blades in tandem, points first, then ducked at the last moment, rolling under Titan's blocks to flank him once again.

Singularity met Celestia as soon as she'd tucked her wings and relinquished any possibility for escape. It dug into her chest, shearing away a large chunk of flesh and both her forelegs with a shock of intense pain. Her roll failed, and she tumbled forward into the dirt.

Before she'd realized what was happening, Singularity had pinned her to the ground through her heart.

It was simple, Celestia realized. She'd been analyzing Titan's every move and incorporating his reactions into their combat strategy, just like she had with Terra. Slowly, they'd taken initiative and started to win.

But Titan's style of fighting hadn't changed at all. She knew he had to be capable of splitting his mind—why hadn't he shifted his methods?

The answer was obvious. He'd waited, collecting all the data he'd need. But not to improve his effectiveness in battle, no—Titan was just going to kill them. He wasn't making a gamble when he knew he'd win. He was just collecting his chips. This was how King Titan won the immortal game.

The world collapsed around her heart as Singularity pulsed, and an immense gravity drew her inwards. She felt her bones and muscles strain under the might of his blade. It took her power, too, draining her reserves just like it had atop the Dark Heart of the Everfree Forest. Celestia began to focus her unicorn magic even as it fell through her hooves. She wouldn't let it end like this.

She turned her head to see Luna screaming, but strangely she didn't hear the sound escape her lips. Nor did she hear Nadir clash against Singularity again and again as Luna tried to reach her sister.

She failed. Just as Titan had with Celestia, he moved through Luna's guard with perfect anticipation and shattered her face with a blow to the cheek. Luna beat her wings to throw herself away.

Titan caught her with his forelegs as the other half of Singularity buried itself in the ground behind him. Then he swung her through the air as Celestia watched on in horror. Luna hit the impaled on Singularity much the same way Celestia had been.

She didn't get back up. Neither did Celestia. It had taken Titan seconds to turn their entire strategy against them and render them powerless.

“Is there fight left within you?” Titan said as Celestia's heart seized around his unnatural blade. “Do you have more light inside that must be quelled?”

Celestia gritted her teeth. They weren't going to let him win. She'd find a way.

“Look,” Titan said simply, turning his face skyward. The storm above them began to part before his will, until a small window of the sky above could be seen, widening. “Look,” he said again. “Not at the stars, but at the cold, empty dark between them. Around them. Above them. We try so hard to fill it, but the truth has always been that it... cannot be conquered...”

He turned his eyes forward, back to the Everfree and The Citadel at its center. “It is done,” he said. “The world will be perfect again.”

The shaft of light that broke through the sky intensified, then flashed, casting the world into a vivid contrast that was brighter than any lightning strike for the briefest of moments.

Twilight! Celestia thought as all of ponykind was damned.

A ring expanded outward in a horizon from The Citadel, casting a dull light over the landscape as it traveled towards. It grew, and moved outward, and grew more, until it became dim enough to appear the faintest shade of purple...

“No,” Titan whispered.

She was falling, flying, almost, in a sea of light and at the edge of life. The magic flowed over her, around her, through her, an electrifying spear of light that carried agony and power in equal measure. She wondered which one would drown her first, the blinding shock of pain or the violent surge of magic.

This was not the magic of Harmony, magic that she rode upon like a wave and directed with her will. This was the magic of Titan, harsh and harmful and totally beyond taming, and stopping it was like trying to stand in a thunderbolt without an end.

Her fragile form cracked and broke within the torrent of energy. Her hair melted away as her hooves disintegrated into dust, to be carried past her and fired into the sky. The night that she wrapped around her skin broke and faded, and the flesh beneath began to burn and chafe away. It was an effort just to stay in one place, so great was the force that sought to scatter her to the heavens.

The last few beats of her heart bought her mind the precious seconds it needed to think. It was never her intention to stop Titan's spell—nothing could stop power like this. She just needed to divert it, disrupt it. All that power had to go to all the right places, and like a child smashing a priceless work of art, she would break his spell by pushing that power away from its course.

She pushed with every kind of magic she had. Barriers made of thought cracked and shattered in their instant of conception, so great was the flow of magical might. It stripped the enchantments from her armor, from her skin, then bore the thoughts out of her mind. Her horn shattered, a hundred fragments disintegrating into a hundred fragments each before disappearing into the sky above.

Thunder and lightning were called by her mind of steel, an effort that created not a shield, but a sword with which to attack Titan's channel of magic. Energy arced off her body and burned away in a sea of white as she tried to derail the spell. It churned around her, offset, but not otherwise hindered. Her eyes and ears bled away, and the world of roaring austere white became only empty blackness.

Her flesh was as strong as stone, as steel, as the unbreakable will of the Master General. Before Titan's spell, it broke. Skin gave way to blood and muscle, blood boiled and muscle burned and cracked. Fat melted and trailed up and away from her physical self, and her mortal heart beat for the last time as Titan's spell went on.

And without eyes, she saw them—five points of colored light in a world of only darkness. Rarity, white, faded and dull as her life left her. Applejack, orange, burning steady even as she watched her friends die. Rainbow Dash, blue, shining brightest of all. Fluttershy, yellow, soft and warm, almost inviting. Pinkie Pie, pink, twinkling mirthfully at the end of the world. And without ears, she heard a voice call Twilight Sparkle. She never could tell which one of them had said it.

She found the strength.

Magic, real magic, flowed over her, around her, through her, and Titan's spell was paltry by comparison. Without muscles, she stretched out a hoof and split the beam, and the light ran around her the way the water of a stream runs around a stone.

It seemed to her that the entire universe collapsed into her mind, and she knew that every inch of The Citadel blazed purple with the light of her magic. She called, and it answered, a thousand thousand shards taking their proper positions as five orbs of light drifted ever closer in her mind.

And then the spells melted into her mind, Harmony's knowledge taking its place alongside that of Terra’s, of Nihilus's, of Astor Coruscare's. Spells to create life. Spells to build cities. Spells to heal. And not a single spell for war.

Finally, she understood why she'd never been able to understand the Elements of Harmony. They were a puzzle, and she'd been missing all the pieces.

Five orbs of light converged in the darkness as Harmony's magic was made whole once again. The spell beneath her changed, becoming something that was no longer Titan's spell of dominance, but a new design made just for her.

Without muscles, she thrust a hoof forward again, and this time the stream of light did not split, but rather embraced her. It warmed her bare bones even as it broke them, making room for something greater.

She floated, alive, in a stream of energy and matter. Light wrapped itself around new bones, then became muscles and arteries, flesh remade. Her form stretched, and a pinpoint of purple luminescence grew in her chest and then took form and beat as a newborn heart. She threw her head back and opened new eyes to look skyward as her skeletal structure shifted to accommodate wings.

A hundred hundred fragments of bone converged a hundred times, then converged again into a horn that was long and graceful. Hooves tessellated onto the end of her legs as the space between her wing bones became taut with muscled flesh. A ripple of skin traveled over her form and was followed by a coat of vivid purple.

An immortal heart beat within her chest, and she felt every drop of blood flowing through her veins, warm and crackling with magical might. Her ears pricked as she heard the crack of thunder from the storm over Canterlot. She turned, and her eyes regarded her friends, still standing on the highest ring of her Citadel.

Titan's bladestorm disappeared as she folded it into null space with barely a thought. Rarity, long since fallen, was encased in a field of crystal, preserved.

The rest of them looked at her, stared at her, with awe. She smiled at them, and that awe vanished, replaced with relief and hope and love.

Pinkie Pie stood. “Good luck,” she said.

With that, she turned her divine eyes skyward, noting with satisfaction that the six arms of her citadel made an opening just large enough for her to fit against the sky.

And that it was shaped like a six-pointed star.

Titan whispered, “No,” and she heard him from a city away.

The storm had brought itself to a halt against Mount Avalon, and with nowhere to go it was descending on Canterlot. She watched her home city as it was engulfed by gale force winds and black clouds that boiled with unspent power. Then she turned her eyes downward, to where the rest of the gods were gathered outside the broken western gate.

She chose her spot well, landing in exactly the same place that Titan must have only moments before. As an amethyst, she blazed a comet’s trail through the sky and struck the ground. The shattered stones and scattered dirt beneath her hooves healed as she landed, remaking a small section of road to be as new and perfect as the day it had been laid.

Hundreds of pieces of starsteel landed around her, digging into the ground as they did. The metal was a strange combination of platinum, uranium and tungsten. Without Harmony's magic, it wouldn't have been an effective alloy at all. With it, they glowed, etched with purple light, an incredibly dense material.

Her mane and tail undulated in the air around her, coils of an infinite number of colors wrapping around one another and scattered with a million stars. They were nebulae, deep and vast as the empty dark itself, and their ethereal shape ran down her neck and along the edges of her wings. Her irises burned from within with the same ever changing light of the cosmos. To look into them was to see an entire galaxy hidden beneath a single tiny ring of purple.

She was exactly as tall as Titan, because she was exactly his age. And just below the crest of her shifting mane, a ring of light parting the infinite nebula, was the Empyrean Crown of Harmony, Queen of Gods.

She willed the thunder to split the sky, and it did so, casting the entire world in a brilliant purple contrast. She spoke, and her voice was a symphony orchestra.

“Titan.”

Two pinpoints of light shot forth and struck the blades that pinned Celestia and Luna to the ground. Titan drew them back to himself, then took a step back. “H-Harmony?”

She shook her head. “No, Titan. I am not your wife. You killed her, remember?”

Nearby, fragments of starsteel lifted themselves from the ground and were drawn to her body like iron to a magnet. Plates melded together over her chest, her belly, her legs, forming a seamless suit of silver armor etched with purple light. The Empyrean Plate. The first suit of armor. All other armor was but a pale reflection of Harmony's war regalia.

She took a step forward, and Titan tensed. “I am the voice of every pony that has suffered in darkness, and I cry out for vengeance. I am a drop of equinity in a sea of immortality. I am cold, cruel logic tempered in the light of friendship, and I am unafraid. I am hope, I am freedom, I am love.” She cast Equinox from nothing at all.

Then she cast Vorpal, fourteen diamonds folding themselves out of space and glimmering with an inner purple light.

“I am Twilight Sparkle,” she said, “and I am the end of war.”

She sent a spell out to Celestia and Luna, and Celestia’s voice sounded inside her head, warm and weak. “Twilight?”

“Celestia. Are you okay?”

“I'll be fine,” Celestia said. “I can... help. Help you fight.”

Twilight looked down at Celestia's emaciated form. Was the princess even in the right mind?. “Don't worry,” she thought. “Everything is going to be okay. Just go to sleep, Celestia. I'll wake you up in the morning.”

“It was me, Twilight. I—“

“I know, Celestia. Thank you.”

“Remember, Twilight. This world is not one to be won by war. Remember.” Celestia lost consciousness.

Her conversation with Luna was far more direct.

“Luna.”

“Titan is extremely capable with his blade, Twilight Sparkle; you may not be his match in bladecasting. He beat us by being predictable while taking stock of both our styles and then defeating us in a matter of seconds. He telegraphs motion with the muscles in his legs and he is very reserved when it comes to the use of any magic.

“He thinks he is superior to everything, Twilight. He thinks it is his right to rule all. He blames ponykind for the death of Harmony, Terra, and both Empyreans. He is proud, and full of hubris, but do not think him weak or unclever. He will kill you if you give him the chance.”

“Right.”

“I can't fight with you, Twilight. I'm sorry. Just remember that we fight with what we fight for.”

It took her the space of a second to have both conversations. Thought was a very efficient form of communication, and the princesses could do it well. Her declaration of self had barely left her lips.

Titan regarded her, his face an emotionless mask. Did he hide them well, or did he just not feel anything?

“You intend to fight me for control,” he said.

The words drew Twilight back into the present. Titan was observing the final protocol in the immortal game.

“I do.” Twilight noticed that the storm was almost upon them, now—the turbulent winds were just beginning to descend upon the highest towers of Canterlot Castle. “As Celestia and Luna are assets to both of us, I would like to put forth Canterlot proper as a suitable location.”

“Acceptable,” Titan said without a single break in his composure. “We will begin... with Avalon.”

A soft wave rippled over Twilight, and a crack sounded as Titan broke the sound barrier from a standstill. She never lost track of his movements as he sped away, her eyes catching every bit of his inequine speed with no trouble at all.

She followed, parting the drag forces in front of her and exceeding the speed of sound just as easily as he had. Canterlot blurred by beneath her as she went, a thousand towering buildings of stone and glass, all connected by crisscrossing streets and bridge-ways. Over the outer city and into the inner city, where the buildings were taller and even more densely packed, then finally past the green of the palace grounds.

She stopped atop the Tower of the Sun, gazing across a stretch of empty air to the Tower of the Moon, upon which Titan stood, mane flowing.

“You think yourself a god, Twilight Sparkle.”

Tufts of wind blew at her mane, and a maelstrom raged just above her.

“I am a god, Titan. By any definition, I am more of a god than you.”

“What you are is a perversion. An abomination.”

Mount Avalon was barely visible behind Titan through the obscuring cover of clouds. The wind was building, and the shingles beneath Twilight's hooves rattled on the rooftop.

“It's you who is a perversion, Titan. Every second you've been in my world has changed it for the worse. But now those seconds are running out. I'm going to erase everything you've ever accomplished, Titan, and your defeat will invalidate your very existence.”

“How pathetic,” Titan said. “I validate existence itself. My very purpose is to be the one true king. You are but a speck—“

The storm hit, and Twilight decided that he talked too much.

She teleported, landing directly in front of him, then hit him with a simple burst of telekinetic force, just to start things off simple. Apparently she surprised him, because her spell struck him in the chest.

Titan was thrown backwards with enough force to topple a building, back and back until he landed with all four legs against the steep face of Mount Avalon. Cracks appeared around his hooves.

Twilight raised a hoof and examined it in front of her face. To break solid stone with the barest of thoughts. To command the storm with the wave of a hoof. To ruin cities with her passage. She was an alicorn.

She chased Titan, drawing the air around to her body before sliding through it toward the king.

Titan thrust two halves of Singularity into the face of Mount Avalon, and his horn blazed. A tremendous series of cracks threatened to break Twilight's eardrums as he pulled his blade free and took off up the side of the mountain and further into the storm.

Twilight reached the edge of Mount Avalon to find that it had been shattered. Great shards of rock, bigger than the largest houses in Canterlot, began to ponderously fall away from the mountain, their jagged edges grinding against one another with a titanic noise.

She looked up just as another stretch of lightning illuminated the sky, and there, just a small silhouette in the storm, was Titan. The lightning arced out and down, and Twilight caught it on Equinox, causing it to bounce away and score a nearby mountain shard with a line of molten rock.

Twilight split Vorpal and charged each bladeshard with kinetic energy, then wrapped them in a blanket of friction-reducing magic. Fourteen diamonds blazed with refracting violet light, then sped through the air toward the King.

A missile came toward her, and Twilight zipped into the crack between two falling stones. It decimated the rock beneath her. She looked up at the inside of a dozen falling shards of stone.

Titan appeared at the apex of the falling rocks and hurled a set of dark shackles at Twilight—a binding. Twilight didn't want to think of what he could do to her if he ever got her to stop moving.

Her horn flashed, and Twilight reversed gravity for only herself, turning the entire world upside down. Now she looked down at the King. Twilight planted her hooves on the nearest rock—which was now falling upward toward the ground—and began to run. Vorpal returned to her, having missed its target, but the diamonds cut Titan's binding to ribbons as they rose to meet her. She loosed another spell at Titan—this one a bola of light that would sap his pegasus magic.

They fell toward one another through the massive stones as they slaked off the mountain, hurling and dodging spells as they went. Twilight never had Equinox or Vorpal on herself at the same time—rarely did she even have either. Spells whistled and cracked between them, and the fragments of Mount Avalon broke and shattered on their way to crash against the ground below.

As the distance closed between them, the time they had to react to the other's attacks lessened, and the barrage of spells became frantic. Light danced and flashed between them as they planted their hooves on neighboring shards. Closer and closer they came as the stones were forced together, the space between them dwindling...

Equinox and Vorpal met twin halves of Singularity, and a torrent of energy coursed through Twilight and sizzled in the air around her. Brilliant white sparks cascaded from the blades to ricochet off the rock around them. Twilight pulled her blades back to a combat position...

They had less than a second of time next to one another in the avalanche, and their positioning was less than ideal, as they were both looking down at one another. But the series of blows they exchanged in that small frame of time was unlike anything Twilight had ever experienced.

He almost killed her as she drew Vorpal back, preparing to jab. Singularity darted forward, just beyond the reach of Equinox, and slashed at Twilight's neck, intending to decapitate her. She drew back as fast as she could, and his blade merely severed her collarbone, several arteries, and her throat on its way out. Blood spilled into the air in a hundred tiny droplets. Twilight's alicorn senses picked up every one of them.

They twisted over one another, and simultaneously blasted each other with telekinetic force as the opening presented itself. Twilight was sent backwards, down and toward the sky as Titan was thrown to the ground.

Twilight landed with her feet against a falling rock, reversed gravity for herself again, then started throwing spells. Equinox went first, charged with explosive might. Vorpal followed it, each shard wrapped in a spell designed to unravel protective enchantments. She threw a modified version of Titan's missile spell at him, then an azure bolt of lightning.

Each of them disappeared into the same cloud of shattered rock dust at the base of the mountain. Twilight felt Titan’s magic at work as he deflected the attacks with blades and barriers.

“No heart,” she said. She let loose with a half second burst from her godslaying spell, now armed with the tungsten-uranium-iron mixture from Titan's own bladestorm. A beam of blue light speared downward, the thin stream of superdense metal blowing a hole through the king's chest and cauterizing the wound. Against Twilight's spell there could be no defense.

Twilight dove downward, teleporting just as she went supersonic to smash against the ground before the King. Equinox and Vorpal tessellated into form at her sides as Titan rounded on her, heedless of the hole running from his back through to his belly. Twilight looked at the king, her face an expressionless mask.

“No soul.”

Twilight tapped Rarity, and her mind was filled with a cool dedication to form and skill; the blades before her practically moved of their own accord, responding to the small ticks that Twilight herself picked up from the muscles in Titan's legs.

Their hooves danced over uneven ground as their weapons clashed in the air before them. Twilight came at Titan like Rarity came at a particularly difficult confluence of fabrics, working her blades in from every angle, threading them through Singularity as Titan struggled to adapt his painfully simple style.

Had he met his match before? Titan had probably never had any reason to learn to fight, being so much stronger than everything else alive. And now he faced Twilight, who wielded the power to destroy. Anything. Everything. Nothing would ever hurt her or her friends ever again.

The storm was in full swing, buffeting them with winds that would topple any mortal pony. Shards of broken windows, scattered fragments of rock, wooden splinters and roof shingles bounced harmlessly off their bodies or disintegrated upon coming in contact with their blades. Twilight kept the initiative, breaking Titan's assaults and pressing into his guard.

Canterlot Castle stretched out behind Titan, and Twilight saw her chance. She spoke two words as she broke Titan's defenses.

“No hope.”

Twilight surged forward as her blades pushed his to the dirt, drawing a hoof off the ground as their weapons were momentarily taken out of play. It was with grim satisfaction that she saw Titan wouldn't be able to block her strike in time. After all, he could only move as fast as she could.

Twilight tapped Applejack and Rainbow Dash as she coated her hoof in telekinetic energy, then slammed it into Titan's face. Straight forward and out from her chest to maximize power. Her punch landed.

Her hoof cracked, and every bone in her foreleg shattered, becoming like so many pebbles stuffed into a sack of skin. The plates of metal ensconcing her leg broke away and were thrown in every direction, bouncing off her skin and face.

It was nothing compared to what happened to Titan.

His skull became dust where her hoof struck, and broke into fragments everywhere else. His eyes were squeezed halfway out of their sockets, and his muzzle compressed like an accordion as teeth were pushed out the back of his throat. His neck snapped as his head went sailing backward, and his body followed too slowly.

It still followed, and Titan was thrown into the walls of Canterlot Castle like a missile. Twilight watched as he broke through the walls to the library and decimated a dozen bookshelves to come out the other side with cool indifference.

“No blood.” Not in Titan. What kind of monster was he?

She teleported into the courtyard as he skidded to a halt on the ground, raising her blades for the kill. There was rain now, water falling through the sky as the storm fell apart. It made no difference to Twilight's senses; it just made the light from their spells dapple against the wet ground. Her blades descended as Titan came to halt at her hooves, perfectly timed to shear off his head...

Titan wasn't going to give her victory so easily. He blitzed, using Esteem's spell to bring himself off the ground and behind Twilight, and she sensed him raising both halves of Singularity while her back was turned.

Nearby, the library began to collapse.

Twilight teleported behind Titan and struck him with a blast of telekinesis, sending him flying away through the mess hall nearby. She teleported to his side, hooves skidding on the stone floor.

Singularity came at her, and Twilight instinctively blocked it with Equinox. It was only as her blade died out that she realized her error—Titan had come at her with a whole Singularity, and half her power funneled into Equinox wasn't nearly enough to stop it. The tip of Titan's blade buried itself in her chest, and his horn flashed as he released another bout of war magic.

Her chest exploded, bursting outward like a shallow pool struck by a stone. She flew back, half propelled by her own wings and half by the force of Titan's blow.

He blitzed straight into the air to meet her in combat once again, and Twilight teleported behind him and sent him flying into the orrery with another modified missile. She halted herself in the air as her chest flowed back into itself, then fired another burst of her godslaying spell, this one longer than the previous had been.

Titan dodged it, but it still sheared through the bottom of the Tower of the Moon and the armory.

They fought on, blitzing and teleporting as they threw spells at one another from a distance. Their clashes were short and brutal, and their war spells rarely struck home. They ignored the rain. They ignored the wind. They ignored Canterlot Castle.

Twilight understood why Titan had never claimed the Castle as the seat of his power. Why would he or she care about any pony-made structure? They broke through walls of stone like they were mist, toppled towers with what, to them, was a light puff of air. Seconds were hardly an effective way to measure time at the speed they fought. Canterlot Castle was destroyed, to a building, in less than twenty of Twilight's heartbeats.

All but the Tower of the Sun. Twilight teleported back to the ground, and Titan stood away from her.

“What is it, Twilight Sparkle, that your heart truly desires? How would you build a perfect world? Am I supposed to pretend? To act as though I have these defects that you have ponykind worship in my place? My nature is perfect. I cannot feel your flaws.”

“No,” Twilight said. “I don't want to you to find redemption, Titan. I want—“

Several things happened at once.

First, Twilight stopped detecting Titan with her magic. A three thousand year alicorn, sheathed in conjured armor and blade cast, simply vanished from her senses. She couldn't rely on sight and sound to track Titan; the storm obscured her vision and sound traveled too slowly.

Titan fired another magic missile at her, but it was fast. Too fast for Twilight to dodge. Almost as fast as her godslaying spell. As he did so, he blitzed once more.

Twilight teleported just as the spell struck her, throwing herself through space to land somewhere, anywhere away from the king.

She landed in Celestia's study in the Tower of the Sun just as Titan's spell tore away her shoulder and one of her forelegs, scattering pieces of armor and forcing some of them into her abdomen. Most of it missed her, however, and as Twilight was pushed back into the Canterlot air, much of the study went with her.

The tower began to fall, ponderously slow, as Titan met her in the air, caught both her blades, and punched her in the chest.

She went up and back, tearing away another section of the Tower with her passage. Titan met her again, and again, and again, until all that fell to the ground below was dust and rubble. Canterlot Castle was no more.

Titan met her again, and this time Twilight was ready. She reached out and sensed everything, every bit of air and water and dust and debris around them, then constructed a second spell to find the part of that whole that was empty. A simple inversion spell added to the whole gave her an accurate means of detection. Titan came at her, and must have been surprised when she spun to meet his blades in midair. If he was, it didn't show on his face.

They went up and up, carried by alicorn wings into the heart of the storm, the winds growing ever stronger. The pace they set was slow, their flight steady. It made it easier to fight each other with their blades on the way up.

Twilight tapped Rarity, but it wasn't enough. Her bladework began to fail her.

Titan's style had completely transformed. It was still direct, still focused and overt, but he was better now. He met jabs and slashes with ease, his blade took away chunks of her flesh almost with impunity. Every motion of his blades put her on the defensive, and forced her to compromise more and more of her guard.

His expression never changed. It held nothing save the barest hint of contempt, and he wore it when he was winning just as he did when he was losing. Twilight didn't understand how he was suddenly beating her. Nopony could learn that fast. She couldn't learn that fast.

Could Titan?

He broke into her guard, dipped Singularity into her chest, and blew it apart once more. Twilight pulled the clouds beneath her with her pegasus magic as she flew, sliding to a halt on the soft surface and readying herself for Titan's next attack. It never came.

“I am the only absolute in all of creation,” Titan said as he descended lightly to the cloud that churned not twenty meters away. “You are but a fragment of my greatest dream, and it is a dream that has become a nightmare.” His eyes burned, two rings of light boring into her through the darkness. “I cannot lose, Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight blurred to her hooves, gritting her teeth. One of them shattered, then healed. “We'll see,” she said, narrowing her eyes. She prepared to lunge...

Her legs stayed rigid as she looked into Titan's eyes, ignoring her commands to move. His eyes were like tunnels of white, drawing her in, absorbing her...

Titan was using the stare.

Immediately, Twilight tapped Fluttershy and forced herself to keep Titan's gaze. He wanted a battle of wills? She'd give him one.

She conjured up bits and scrapes of experiences she'd had with her friends. Applejack sighing as she started to haul her apple cart. Fluttershy laying out feed for the animals. Rarity pressing fabric to her board with a hiss of steam from the iron.

All of those things were swallowed up in an instant by the empty dark, devoured by a vast blackness that Twilight couldn't even begin to imagine. It encompassed her, drowning her in the unrelenting will of a mind that had killed stars and created worlds, and now turned its sights upon the irrevocable erasing of everything that made her species special.

Twilight tried to conjure up another image—Spike sucking on a claw—but it faltered. She was being crushed by the weight of her own insignificance in Titan's harsh, burning eyes, and there was nothing she could do about it. His will wasn't something that could be fought.

Titan broke the stare and charged.

She raised Vorpal to prevent Singularity from tearing her head from its shoulders, but nothing stopped the other half from stabbing her through the heart. She couldn't think, could hardly feel after being beaten down by Titan's indomitable will. What if he had kept her there longer?

There was a sound like a colossal growl, and Twilight was thrown back hundreds of meters and brought to her senses. She skidded to a halt, searching for Titan. He appeared behind her.

“I see what you fight for, Twilight Sparkle. You fight for the world you once held, the world you would now rule.”

“N-no,” Twilight said, backing away from him. Was she supposed to want to rule the world? That was what gods did, wasn't it?

Titan raised his blade high, and the clouds parted around them in the space of second. “Look, Twilight Sparkle. This is your world!”

Lightning danced across the sky, illuminating the landscape before them in a series of cracks and booms. The Everfree Forest, swaths of it burning. Her Citadel, tall and imposing. Ponyville, half of it a broken ruin. And Canterlot beneath them, the palace that had stood for a millenia, destroyed in a heartbeat with hardly a second thought.

“Your fragile minds are weak and broken with the horrors that resistance has brought. Your homes are gone and the ones you love have died by the hundreds. Do you think that you can ever regain the world you fight for, Twilight Sparkle?”

Twilight looked at Titan, standing against the stars in his armor. Could she ever go back to the way things were? The answer was no, and it was so plain and simple to see that it hurt her all the more.

She thought of the palace, the pile of rubble and glass beneath them. She'd helped to break it, tearing the entire thing apart in the space of heartbeats. When had she become so careless and violent?

When she took up the power of Harmony. How could Twilight see anything as valuable, now that ponykind's castles might as well have been made of drying sand on the beach? Mountains were as breakable as unfired clay and physical laws were mutable things. Their cities were made of paper, their monuments were only a sweep of a hoof away from utter destruction.

A realization struck Twilight: this was how Titan felt all the time. He moved through a world that he created, and no matter where he stood, he could destroy anything and everything he saw. And everything he could destroy, he could replace.

And there were ponies, too. A race that he'd created. But each of them was barely more than a collection of proteins and fats, a weak reflection of his own magical might. They died in so short a time, all of them, that as individuals they hardly mattered. But as a race they were resilient and whole. Killing a pony was like putting a scratch on his own creation. It would heal.

But it wouldn't learn. Every hundred years the entire race would die and replace itself, and so ponykind was perpetually young, always destined to repeat the mistakes of its predecessors. And always so fragile, such small things compared to mountains and cities, and so meaningless when taken as individuals...

They'd convinced Harmony otherwise, though. And in doing so they'd sealed the fate of his son and killed his wife. Real beings. Immortal beings. True companions in a world made entirely of ever-changing mist. A world that he'd lived in for thousands of years. How could he not act the way he did by now? Twilight swallowed as she looked at the King in his immaculate armor.

No, not immaculate. Just by his flank a piece was missing, a fragment that he'd failed to replace with whatever spell summoned the suit. And laid bare before Twilight was his cutie mark, a simple white circle.

We fight with what we fight for, Luna had said.

This world is not one to be won by war, Celestia had said.

“Yes,” Twilight whispered.

Titan gave the slightest tilt of his head. “What did you just say?”

Twilight nodded to herself, then looked back to the King. “I said yes. I can fix this world. My kind can make it good again.”

Titan regarded her for a moment. “You're wrong. You cannot ever get back what is lost, Twilight Sparkle.”

“Why are you King?” Twilight asked.

“Are you trying to delay me, Twilight Sparkle? Are you waiting for my daughters to regain some measure of power and come to your aid? They won't. Singularity does not cause wounds that heal easily.”

“Why are you King?” she asked again.

“You are fast becoming uninteresting, Twilight Sparkle.”

“Why are you King, Titan?”

“So be it.”

Titan lunged, air drawing around his form in a blanket of pressure as he spread his dark wings. Singularity cut the air at his sides, and his face once again took on its usual contemptuous mask.

Twilight blocked his blades and caught his momentum with her forelegs, but didn't fight back. She didn't fight back as he brought Singularity in for another hail of blows, or as a lightning bolt as thick as a tree trunk smote her from the sky.

She steadied herself in the air and threw up a shield when he cast another war-spell at her, but didn't throw anything back at him. Her shield stayed the force of the blow, but she was still thrown down to the ground below.

She landed in the middle of the street in the industrial district, and Titan came at her not two heartbeats later. She teleported out to meet him.

Blades met blades, and sparks lit the air around them as Twilight held Titan at bay.

“What are you doing?” he said as the light of Equinox played across his face. “Fight me.”

Twilight pushed against Singularity's halves. “Why. Are you. King?”

Titan forced so much magic through his weapon that both of their blades went out, the stepped forward and thrust a hoof at Twilight's face.

She caught it, and the one that followed it, with her forelegs, straining to keep them away.

“Fight me!”

“Tell me why you're King, Titan. What gives you the right to rule?”

He slammed his head forward, and Twilight's muzzle broke like a glass of water under a hammer, bones shattering and flesh liquefying.

She staggered back as Titan brought his hind legs around, but managed to block the strike before it could land. She didn't retaliate.

Titan came at her, a whirlwind of focused hooves. The force with which he struck was incredible, but Twilight could match his every blow. Bones shattered as their legs met, then healed again in an instant. The road beneath them cracked with the force by which they planted their legs. And all the while, Twilight didn't fight back.

The end came when Titan managed to trip her, sending her sprawling to the ground. A hoof met her chest before she could recover, and Twilight was thrown through a solid stone wall and into a room that looked to be a workshop of some kind.

Titan blitzed to her side, wrapped a foreleg under her horn, then drove the other into the back of her head. There was an audible snap as her horn shattered, and his hooves moved down to wrap themselves around Twilight's neck as he placed his muzzle beside her ear.

“Fight me, Twilight Sparkle. Do not lose hope. Do not give in to despair.”

The grip on her neck tightened, and Twilight struggled to break free. Her forelegs beat against the ground, tearing holes out of the stone floor, but they didn't move. It made no sense—both of them together weighed almost nothing compared to Twilight's strength. She should have easily been able to send them into the sky from here.

The muscles in her neck screamed in protest, pressed in on all sides. She felt her spine fracture and snap.

“Fight me, Twilight Sparkle, with every ounce of strength you have in you. Spill every drop of blood you have trying to defeat me.”

Blood thundered in her ears and pooled in her neck and he twisted it back. Titan was trying to tear her head off.

“I will have you die knowing that everything you had was not enough. That with all your allies and gambits and the stolen power of Harmony herself, you could not defeat me. Because I am almighty, Twilight Sparkle. I am the soul of existence itself, and I rule all.”

Twilight choked out a single word. “Why?”

One by one, her vertebrae began to snap, and her vocal chords went with them. She wondered if that would be the last word she ever spoke. Why.

“It is my purpose,” Titan whispered. “My birthright.”

Twilight buried her forelegs in the stone beneath her and heaved, throwing Titan forward, his hooves still gripping her neck. She rolled him onto his back, her belly in the air, then slammed her forelegs back into his shoulders, causing his grip to loosen.

With a flash and a surge of earthpony magic, her horn and neck healed, and she teleported to a less compromising position, bringing herself to stand over the King. “You think you rule by divine right,” Twilight said. “You think that you of all ponies should have the power to choose what is right and wrong. But no one ever gave you that power, Titan.”

Titan stood. “I gave myself that power,” he said. His horn blazed.

Another missile, moving impossibly fast. This time, Twilight didn't have the space to avoid it. It took her full in the chest.

It wasn't painful at all—that surprised Twilight. It was more like the missiles she had deflected as a mortal. She had only the vaguest recollection of losing her abdominal cavity, of the flesh sloughing off her legs and face, of her body being compacted into something totally inequine. Of barreling through building after building before rolling limply to stop in the courtyard to Canterlot Castle, her bones snapping and seizing back into place and her skin growing back with a ripple of healing magic.

No sooner had she landed than Singularity impaled her through her newly healed heart as Titan descended lightly to stand beside her.

The world collapsed in around his blade, pulling Twilight toward it from all directions, and she felt her magic ebb. It was now or never...

“You gave yourself that power,” she said.

Titan's eyes narrowed. “Be silent and die, mortal.”

“No.” Twilight gasped, and a thin trickle of blood ran out of her mouth. “You see what I see, Titan. You gave yourself the power to do as you wish, but you never had the power to grant such a privilege.”

“I am the one true King,” Titan said. “I have the power to—“

Twilight coughed. “You're a god because you're a god because you're a god,” she said. “You let your mind fall into the same grooves you've carved for yourself over millennia of thought. It's a circular argument, and one you've used to justify the slaughter of numberless innocents, all of them no less endowed with a mind and soul than you.”

“Lies!” Titan shouted. His eyes were wild.

Twilight's immortal heart seized around his blade, each beat weaker than the last, blood flowing freely from the wound.

“Terra betrayed you when she took up the sliver. Harmony left me this power to kill you with. Ponykind has never accepted your rule. Even Exakktus, the greatest of your monsters, saw what we see. What you don't. Every single creature in this world stands against you, Titan. So much that you have to take our souls to validate your rule.”

“No,” Titan said. “You turned them against me. You poisoned them.”

Twilight shook her head. “You're alone, Titan, and you're trying to rule a world that prospered without you for a thousand years. It's not us. It's you. You're the flaw in the system, you're what's wrong. An ugly splotch of erratic perfection on a beautiful canvas of organized chaos. And you spend every waking moment measuring your own significance against ours, convincing yourself that it isn't true. Don't you?”

Titan froze, his mane and tail drifting, his eyes two uncertain circles of light. His mouth opened, as if he were going to say something, but no words came. His brow furrowed, and he looked at Twilight as if to ask her why.

Singularity went out.

Twilight was liquid, flowing to her hooves even as Equinox and Vorpal folded themselves out of space and fused into an incandescent shaft of violet light. She held it aloft, drawing on every ounce of pegasus magic she could muster, and a shaft of cerulean lightning arced down from the center of the storm to strike the Empyrean Blade and fill it with the power to kill a god.

Then she tapped Pinkie Pie, drawing on the power of an arcpony to intercept Titan even as he tried to escape. She beat his forelegs away with her own, seeing exactly how he was going to move before the thoughts even crossed his mind.

The Empyrean Blade forced its way into the center of his chest, right where his heart would be, if he had one. Titan didn't scream.

Twilight caught his eyes, tapped Fluttershy, and used the stare. This time she met a broken ego, still struggling to put itself back together again. Titan's mind was still vast and powerful, however, and his will pushed against hers, an inexorable wave of strength.

Twilight gave him everything she knew of Luna and Celestia. The way Luna was headstrong and anti-social, the way Celestia was subtle in her influence, and they way both of them cared for Equestria. They way they were each inspiring, in their own way, and they way they'd won the love of ponykind in a way Titan never could.

His fractured willpower never stood a chance. He stood, locked in Twilight's grasp and crushed under her will as her blade burned away his magical defenses. Until at long last, they broke, and Twilight grabbed the King of Gods with her mind and held him in her absolute power.

She took his magic. All of it, stripping it away and adding it to her own, pulling her blade free and letting him heal the wound so that he wouldn't die. It didn't take her long at all.

While she did so, she reached out and broke up the remaining bits of the storm. It had almost completely burnt itself out on Canterlot, and so it was a simple matter for Twilight to disperse the clouds that remained, sending them away to rain over the rest of Equestria. When she released Titan, the world was still again.

He fell to his knees, a stallion as big and broad as any Twilight had ever seen, but still pitifully small compared to a god. His mane hung limply around his head, and he trembled, surrounded by the feathers that had fallen out of his wings as they disappeared and the fragments of what had once been a horn. He looked at Twilight with white eyes that were dull, save for the reflected light of her blade.

“Gods can die,” said Twilight, “but you can live. You can live as a mortal, if you so choose. You took the first step in seeing the error of your ways today. It might take the course of an entire lifetime, but we’ll make you see that you were wrong. You’ll change, Titan. And then you'll have to live with the guilt of what you’ve done forever. Terra was brave enough to make that choice, even if she doesn't realize it yet.”

Titan's legs continued to shake. Twilight wasn't surprised—he'd gone his whole life feeling almost weightless, and now he had to stand as a mortal. And from the looks of things it was proving difficult. Perhaps harder for him than anything he'd ever done before. Still, he managed it, bringing himself up to his full height and regarding her, his face still devoid of any expression.

Twilight never knew if he decided that he would die fighting, or if he simply didn't understand that a mortal couldn't hope to harm her. Regardless, Titan jumped at her, so slow and frail, his face contorting with rage.

She was a god, and it was her duty to mete out judgment and wield the power over life and death. Her blade traveled through his neck as easily as if it were air, and Titan, King of the World and the final foe of ponykind, died. Twilight sighed as she found herself alone in the ruins of Canterlot Castle. It was her duty. Her responsibility.

Not her privilege.

The journey back to Ponyville was short one. Twilight had made sure Celestia and Luna were fine before leaving Canterlot. They were unconscious, but alright, just as she'd thought they'd be. Ponykind still had its princesses, and Twilight still had her mentor.

It was dark out when she reached the town, but it was still thriving with activity. The army had returned there after they'd entered The Citadel, and must have seen the duel in Canterlot from afar. It had only been a matter of minutes since the fighting had stopped. What had those minutes felt like, to the ponies waiting to see if tonight was their doom or their salvation?

She chose her place of landing to be the empty pedestal in the town square, and shot towards it in a streak of violet light, deliberately drawing as much attention as she could. When she landed all eyes turned to her and the entire town was plunged into silence.

Twilight looked around at the terrified faces of ponykind, watching as terror turned to recognition. Yes, she was still Twilight Sparkle, their Master General. And if she was standing there before them, that could only mean...

“Victory!” Twilight shouted, her alicorn voice rolling over all the town. “The King is dead!”

From the depths of her nullspace, she produced his severed head to hold aloft before the crowd. The idea disgusted her, or at least part of her, but ponykind deserved this.

They cheered. The war was over and they'd won. None of them were in any danger any more. The idea was numbing and at the same time exhilarating. Life would go on.

And they bowed. No salutes, anymore. All of them supplicated themselves before Twilight Sparkle, the End of War.

She stepped down from her pedestal, and the crowd parted before her as she made her way to Sugar Cube Corner. It wasn't over. Not yet.

Terra was just where Twilight left her. She shook as Twilight strode into the room and tossed Titan's head to the floor just outside her bars. Her eyes shot between Twilight and the head, wide with awe and terror. For a time, Twilight was quiet.

“Is...” Terra said at last, her voice quavering. “Is he... dead?”

Twilight looked down at Titan's head, stupefied, then back up at Terra. “Yes, Terra. He's gone. Forever.”

Terra swallowed. “My father is invincible,” she said, her voice strained. “He can't... this can't...”

Twilight leaned down to look Terra in the eyes. “Titan is dead, Terra. Which means that from here on, there's nopony but you who you can lay blame on for your actions. Do you understand?”

“I...”

“You’re coming with me,” Twilight said. “I need a blueprint.”

At this, Terra seemed to regain some focus. “A blueprint for what?” she asked.

They stepped out of Twilight's teleport and into her Citadel.

Twilight's back was straight and her eyes forward as she stood atop the metal shards that received her, then looked out at the tools she would need to save Rarity. Purple light still filled the etchings, and a thousand thousand shards floated beneath her in lazy orbits.

Before her stood her five friends, and behind her stood Terra. Twilight wished she could have seen the look on Terra's face after coming home at last. But she was too busy looking at her friends.

“Sorry I left you waiting,” she said as she strolled across the bridge that assembled before her and onto the inner ring. “Titan is dead.”

They each gave the same sigh that the army had, and that Twilight had also, as though a great weight had been lifted from their shoulders.

“Celestia is alive,” Twilight said, striding up to the crystal formation that held her dying friend. “Luna is alive.”

“Rarity?” Applejack choked out.

“Her heart has stopped,” Twilight said. “The blood doesn't flow anymore. Titan's magic has broken it entirely. It's eaten her skin, her muscles, her fat, her bone. That's all we are, really. That, and magic. There is still magic in her, Applejack, and so there's still life. It's faint, and frail, but all she needs is a little flesh. A little bone.” Twilight shot a look at Terra and gave a faint smile. “And a beautiful heart.”

She closed her eyes, slowly drawing air through her nostrils. “There's only one heart that will be guaranteed to fit, because there's only one heart that is perfect. It's already been shrunken down to size, and I have the original design. Both of them together should give me enough to make a perfect replica.”

“Harmony,” Terra whispered. “She left it to you. The power of life.”

Twilight held a hoof to her side in answer, and every shard in The Citadel zipped into place to form a complex array of spiraling rings. The knowledge was with her, and it would take a surprisingly little amount of power.

The crystal encasing Rarity broke, thin cracks spreading along its length until shards broke away and disintegrated in the air. Twilight levitated her out into the center of The Citadel.

The first step was a series of enchantments to keep her stable. To pump her blood, press her lungs, hold her together, keep her alive. They were beautiful things, incredibly complex spells that performed the function of living tissue itself. Harmony must have spent decades, or even centuries, trying to understand what made a living being tick. Everything inside them was just so tiny and complex.

A ripple of Twilight's power thrummed through The Citadel, and Twilight stripped away Titan's magic. Just like with her enchantments, she only had to do a tenth of the thought process behind the spells. The Citadel was an array of a million possible spells, and it knew what to do, focusing her magic on the minutiae as she directed it.

Then she began to knit the flesh anew, pulling raw materials from her own body and reforging them into the tissue that Rarity was missing. It was a slow process, but Twilight's earthpony magic healed her instantaneously.

And Rarity's flesh regrew as if she were an earthpony herself. Twilight let out a breath she hadn't even known she was holding. It was possible. It was beautiful. It was a miracle.

It was magic. To breathe life into a pony on the edge of death. What could possibly be a more noble use of her gifts? She had saved lives by killing. But now the deed was pure and untainted.

She worked until there was only one thing left to do, the shards of The Citadel spinning and configuring around her to suit her needs. A ghost image appeared above Rarity, the same image that Harmony had shown Terra in a memory from another lifetime. A beautiful heart.

Six shards floated to form a ring in front of Terra, and the fallen queen drew her vision away from her phantom heart.

“Terra,” Twilight said. “Put your hoof in the ring and I will have all I need. Rarity will live again. Her life is in your hooves.”

Terra scoffed. “Hardly. You could force me.”

“I could,” Twilight said.

“And if I don't you'll kill me.”

“I might.”

“Terra,” Fluttershy said. “Don't be afraid to try and be the pony you were before. You want to survive, but you can live instead. That's what ponies do.”

“This doesn't mean anything,” Terra said. “I don't have a choice. I'm not giving up anything to save your friend.”

Twilight gave a little tilt of her head. “Maybe you see it that way. Baby steps, Terra.”

Terra shrugged, then put her hoof through the ring before her.

Twilight immediately set to work on Rarity's new heart. She had to teleport each piece back into place, removing the remnants of the old one as she did so. All the while, she reveled in the deed she was performing. A heart transplant. This was what magic was for. Not killing and war.

On a whim, she told the Citadel to open and raised the sun. Morning came to a cloudless sky, and the brilliant light of the dawn filtered in through the silvery arms in widening beams. Twilight smiled as she finished her work, and a pulse of light finished her spells.

Rarity's heart began to beat, and she opened her eyes, her flesh in perfect form. Twilight teleported her to stand beside them.

“I'm alive?” Rarity asked. “Twilight is an alicorn?” She looked around, her gaze traveling from pony to pony, searching for answers. “However did Terra get here? Wait! Did we win?”

Applejack moved to stand next to Rarity and watch the rising sun. “Hush now, sugar cube. Watch the sunrise with us.”

“Come on, Terra,” Fluttershy said, taking a seat.

“It's just a sunrise,” Terra said, coming to join them nonetheless.

“You're right,” Twilight said. “It's just a sunrise. But I think that I, for one, could use a little more sun.”

-

The End

The End

It was nearing midday by the time the sun’s rays reached over Mount Avalon and onto the ruins of Canterlot in full. Outside the veil of the mountain’s shadow, the city appeared much as it had for the past four weeks—which was to say that the city looked like it had been completely destroyed. The one and two story buildings of Outer Canterlot were now the tallest objects apart from Avalon itself, but even they had been rendered inhospitable by the king’s unyielding storm. Roofs had been stripped bare, doors and windows shattered giving the gale force winds free leave to scour each building of its insides. The cobbled streets had been churned and ploughed, their stones hurled about like autumn leaves.

The inner city was worse. Here the tall and proud towers of Canterlot had failed totally. Now they gave the impression of dashed-in sandcastles that had then been left to the waves. Where buildings ended and streets began was hard to say; with storm and rubble both to contend with, the narrower paths that wound throughout lost forever.

Even the mountain itself had broken in the final battle, and the thunderous rock-slide that had been rent free from Avalon’s western face could be distinguished from Castle Canterlot’s pulverized remains only by the shade of the stone.

But all was not exactly as it had been four weeks ago, on the morning after Titan’s fall.

Thin paths had been carved through the rubble where it was least dense, each leading to its own separate hole—an entrance to the Canterlot Labyrinth. From high above, the sunlight revealed figures, tiny specks, crawling through the paths and over the rubble like ants tending their colony. Some carried water from the newly diverted falls. Others carried food that had been brought in from all over Equestria via the hastily repaired railway lines. The vast majority were on cleanup duty, however, and spent their time moving the rubble inside the city confines so that it was outside the city confines. There, a team of architects and unicorn engineers would reshape it until it was worthy enough to build with, making bricks and mortar out of nothing but dust and debris. Those without homes had been fully refuged in the Labyrinth only a day ago, and now the work could begin in earnest.

High, high up on the mountain’s edge stood two figures. One had once been a god. The other had once been a pony.

“I wanted to show you this,” Twilight said.

“As what?” Terra practically spat, “—a display of your divine power? I’ve seen ruined cities before, child. This does not impress or frighten me.”

Twilight frowned. “You misunderstand me,” she said, looking out over the ruins. “I grew up in Canterlot. Over there—” She pointed. “Is where I went to Magic Kindergarten. My house was there. I used to eat donuts right across the plaza over there.” She pointed to new sections of ruin as she spoke, each indistinguishable from the last. “The tower I lived in under Celestia, the place I’d go to buy horseshoes...” She made a sort of futile grasping gesture with a hoof and then let out her breath. “It’s all gone,” she said at last.

“You’re right,” Terra said. “I don’t understand. Are you looking for sympathy? From me?”

“The thing is, once upon a time I would never have been able to imagine seeing Canterlot like this. The thoughts would have just... failed me. I was naive and soft, and my mind wouldn’t have been able to comprehend such a loss. But now it’s real, and I see it every day. It’s not just Canterlot, either. I have experiences, memories that—well, you would know, wouldn’t you? You created the Sliver in the first place.”

“And it did its job admirably,” Terra said. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that I don’t believe things can go back to the way they were,” Twilight said. “They just, I mean, I can’t look at this every day and delude myself, don’t you see? They can’t. And it...” here Twilight’s voice cracked a little— “It breaks my heart to know that I’ll never get to go home again.”

Terra opened her mouth as if to say something, closed it, then shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “Tragic,” she said dryly.

“And I feel this despair,” Twilight said. “Every time I think about it. It’s like I can’t get enough air, and all that’s left for me now is to slowly suffocate as each day, each breath leaves me with less and less. Because I know that everything that’s happened is immutable. The dead will always be dead. I will always have been a general and a murderer. Celestia will always have lied to me, and no amount of truth now will change that.

“But every day I come up here and it’s like a breath of fresh air. Every day the ruins disappear just a little. We get more food and water, more infrastructure. We take an infinitesimal step toward a city that isn’t Canterlot at all, to an Equestria that shines on despite the shadow of its past. It gives me what I need to get through to tomorrow.”

“Well then,” Terra said icily. “I’m so very happy for you.”

“By now you know exactly why we’re here,” Twilight said. “You have to see what I’m trying to tell you.”

“I see a little girl playing god,” Terra said.

“I don’t expect to change you with a single conversation, Terra. I’m not trying to give you an epiphany and have you fall to the ground in tears and beg for forgiveness. But I know that some part of you is listening. I just want to plant a seed and let time do what time does. I believe that no matter how long it takes, anything can be fixed.”

“Oh?” Terra said. “I need fixing, do I? And why do you care, exactly? I thought I was Fluttershy’s new pet, not yours.”

“I am responsible in part for the well-being of every pony, now,” Twilight said. “And you are a part of ponykind. I’ve had enough destruction and war to last several lifetimes. All I want to do now is build. Whatever hatred I had for you before just feels... light. It’s so easily brushed aside.”

“It will come back,” Terra said. “It always comes back. You forget your hatred now because I’m small and helpless, but you’ll come face to face with my deeds again. The ponies I killed. The families I destroyed. Then loathing will come to you like a familiar lover, and you’ll embrace it to hide the emptiness you feel at knowing that such horrors could ever be allowed to occur.”

Twilight turned to look at Terra curiously. “But what would I know?” Terra asked her. “I’m just one of your little ponies, now. Isn’t that right?”

A tiny smile graced Twilight’s face. “We’ll see,” she said.

“We will,” Terra assured her. “Now, if you’re done with your little heart to heart, I’d like you to leave me alone again.”

Twilight nodded, slowly. “And where would you like to be left alone?”

“And we’re gonna need paint!” Pinkie cried. “And flags, and bunting, and twenty four thousand nails, and—”

“Woah there, Pinkie Pie,” Applejack said, leaning over her kitchen table to frown at the blueprint before them. “We need to dig the hole first.”

“Oh, Twilight can do that next time she’s in town,” Pinkie said. “We need to get ready for when that’s done. We’ll need concrete, and insulation, and—” Pinkie continued to list things off from under her hard hat. She wore the hard hat everywhere now.

“When is the next time Twilight will be around?” Applejack asked, leaning against the table.

“Sixteen hundred,” Pinkie Pie said with a matter-of-fact nod. “She comes by every day at eight, twelve, and sixteen. Hadn’t you guys noticed?”

Rarity watched the exchange, then shrugged when it seemed appropriate. Since when did Pinkie Pie plan large scale construction projects? Since almost every building between the Everfree and Avalon was a heap of rubble. At least her house had been demolished before it went out of style. Rarity smiled at the thought. She always had been a trend-setter.

“You okay, Rares?”

“Hmm?” Rarity looked up to find them both staring at her. “Oh, of course I’m okay, dears! I’m just, you know....”

“Rarity,” Applejack said. “This is your house that we’re building. You’ve barely said a word.”

“Well...” Rarity leaned over the table to look at the blueprint. “You’re both doing such a marvelous job.”

“And?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. I doesn’t feel right, somehow.”

“Not right?” Applejack asked. “It’s exactly the same as your old house.”

“Exactly,” Rarity said, looking up at the mare. “I feel like maybe now things should change. What do you think?”

Applejack seemed to consider this for a moment, then shrugged. “It’s your house,” she said. “What did you have in mind?”

Rarity opened her mouth to answer, but she never got the chance—she was interrupted by the sound of the kitchen door clattering shut behind them. They both turned to the source of the noise, a beaten old screen door that led to the porch, now rattling in its frame.

Rarity’s heart stopped.

Applebloom looked exhausted, and had probably stayed awake the entire train ride over. She seemed older, but whether it was because she had actually changed or she just wasn’t wearing a bow, Rarity couldn’t have said.

Sweetie Belle did look older, but whether it was by a natural month of adolescence or the cause of something else, Rarity didn’t know. She was absent-mindedly wiping her hooves on the mat as she came in. How ridiculous.

Applejack reacted first, and Rarity couldn’t tell if the wail that escaped her lips was intended to sound like her sister’s name or not. In a moment she had scooped up Applebloom and pulled her close.

In a moment Rarity was holding Sweetie Belle, choking on sentences that probably wouldn’t have made sense even if she could say them. She was hyperventilating, smelling her sister’s mane, kissing her forehead...

Unnoticed, but not bothered by the fact, Pinkie Pie stood by the kitchen table and watched the reunion. She gave a soft smile, and when she saw Macintosh slowly coming up the hill with Granny Smith through the sink window, her smile widened.

“Applejack,” she whispered. “Rarity. Sweetie Belle. Applebloom...”

Five minutes later, Rarity’s boundless love for Sweetie Belle had taken a turn for the sisterly.

“Did Twilight really try to kill you?” Sweetie asked in her high voice. “Are you a knight?”

Rarity was seated at the kitchen table again, holding Sweetie’s hooves as she watched Applejack speak with her family for the first time in months. Sweetie’s question hit her, and she was about to say that she was in fact a Knight Commander, and that titles were important, but Sweetie launched into another question right away.

“Do you really have a magic sword? Did you actually slay a dragon?”

“Mmm,” Rarity said, attempting to approach the subject delicately. “The thing is...”

“Did you die and come back to life? Where did the house go?”

Across the room, Rarity could barely make out her name being mentioned. Applejack gestured toward her to her grandmother, smiling, and Granny Smith looked over and smiled too.

“Am I adopted? Are you adopted?”

Rarity smiled back at Applejack, basking in the perfection of the moment.

Then Sweetie’s question hit her.

“Well,” she said. “You see, er... we need to talk, Sweetie Belle.”

In small circle of young valley oaks, Terra regarded her predator.

It was an Everfree wisp that had taken the form of a bear. They were familiar creatures, even in this new millenia. It—or, as Terra was becoming increasingly certain, he—could forage for food, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t seize the chance to get some fresh meat.

The wisp was translucent but had a definite shape. In bear form, it could easily be mistaken for a miniature ursa, provided the observer knew nothing about either wisps or ursas. The eyes were luminous, glowing under two transparent eyelids that the wisp would never have to open. Beyond that, it looked like a bear-shaped container filled with blue mist.

“Come on.” Terra almost growled the words as they circled one another. Left hooves over right, back legs lead, keep three hooves on the ground at all times. The wisp-bear moved opposite her, eyeing her. It was probably thrown off by the fact that she wasn’t running away; no doubt its primitive mind would expect her to flee, given that she was a third its size.

“Come on,” she said under her breath, “come get some pony flesh. It’s nice and sweet.” She grinned at the wary wisp. “I’d know.” It was only a half lie. Pony flesh wasn’t all that—

The wisp lunged, and Terra was drawn back into the present. She’d been foolish letting herself get distracted like that. This was a life or death situation, now. It wasn’t wise to let her mind wander, even if centuries of torment had taught her not to focus.

The wisp came at her, and Terra was liquid. It wasn’t enough to move like a pony—ponies were too smart, too civilized to be as naturally vicious as a real animal. But animals were too shortsighted and cared only for food. They’d never have the grace that a true master of combat demanded. So Terra moved with a fluidity that defied both, a kind of grace that she’d taken as her own, inspired by each of them.

Luna had it. It was what made her so much stronger than Celestia when they had been growing up. She was probably more than Celestia’s match now, as well. But again, Terra was getting distracted.

She leapt to the side of the bear-wisp, landing and pivoting along her front hooves to buck it with her back legs as it moved past her. Then she spun.

The wisp experienced a moment of confusion when it found its prey had moved, but kicking it in the back hadn’t done a thing. It spun, swiping a claw at her face.

Terra ducked under its paw and struck its leg on the nerve that ran along its joint, enervating it. The wisp howled and pushed forward on three legs, intending to crush her with pure force.

It was a simple matter to spring off its temporarily disabled leg, wrap her forelegs around its neck, and flip onto its back. She placed a hoof in the crux of her other elbow, pulling its head back into a choke hold. The wisp shook its head frantically, obviously confused by the fact that Terra had brought kung fu to a bear fight.

Nothing else happened as Terra’s forelegs tightened around muscles that were hard as a rock. Too hard for her mundane pony strength to overcome.

“Calamity,” Terra cursed. The choke hold was pretty much her only play.

With a roar, the wisp reached back and raked a claw along her side, scoring a shallow cut before Terra threw herself away. She landed in the dirt a couple feet from the wisp, immediately flowing to her hooves to face the oncoming wisp.

She couldn’t pummel it to death with her hooves, or tear its throat out with her teeth, or trample it, obviously. With a tinge of disappointment, Terra realized that she really couldn’t kill this magic bear.

A feral cry tore its way out of her mouth: the loud, feline ululation of the jaguar. The wisp froze. It saw a pony, but heard a jaguar. Hopefully it would have the sense to run. Just to be sure, she screamed the jaguar cry again. The wisp ran, crashing into the bushes and fading from hearing as Terra breathed a sigh of relief.

“Why did it run?” Fluttershy asked. Terra wasn’t surprised at all to hear her voice; she’d probably watched the whole exchange. Had Fluttershy heard her laugh about eating pony flesh?

Terra shook the thought from her head. Why should she care if Fluttershy heard her or not?

Fluttershy stepped into the tiny clearing, wearing only her crown of thorns. Terra’s crown. But again, Terra shook unwelcome thoughts away. She was having too many of them, now. “It ran because it’s programmed to fear the bladed jaguar.”

“But the Everfree Forest has no jaguars,” Fluttershy said.

Terra shrugged. “Must have all died. I’m not surprised, really, their balance was a tricky one. Any number of things could have killed them off. But yes, we used to have jaguars. Big things,” she said, stretching her hooves out for emphasis. “Fur was actually tiny metal teeth as thin and long as slivers. Wouldn’t hesitate to eat a wisp.”

“Oh,” Fluttershy said. “Well, are you okay?” She looked at the cut running along Terra’s side, and actually had the indecency to appear concerned.

“Fine,” Terra said. “It didn’t hit anything important and I’ve already stopped bleeding, see?”

Fluttershy bit her lip as Terra bared her flank. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Hurt?” Terra asked. “Of course it hurts. It hurts and it’s fascinating. Real pain. Natural pain. The kind that doesn’t come at the end of a spell or with the force of an avalanche. I’ve known pain your mind isn’t physically capable of conferring to you, child. Having my flesh torn away is interesting.”

“But you could have died.”

Terra barked out a laugh. “I have to know my own limits. And if I died it would be my fault. Twilight made it very clear that I’m allowed to kill myself. Just not you.”

Fluttershy gave her that wretched look of pity she loved to use so often. “I’m going home, if you’d like to come.” She turned and began to walk away, ducking under some branches and out of the clearing.

Terra followed. She’d decided early on that she wasn’t going to hinder and refuse Fluttershy every chance she got. That was what children did.

When they were walking under taller trees, with little brush to struggle through, Fluttershy said, “I don’t think you’d kill me.”

Terra let out a snort of derision. “Even if I didn’t hate you, this forest will only have one princess. Killing you to prove I’m the best? That’s the way we do things here.”

“Just like Equestria can only have one king?”

The calm way Fluttershy spoke infuriated Terra, as always. “It’s nothing like that.”

Fluttershy walked quietly for a time, and Terra watched her crown. A flower bloomed just above her brow and then broke apart, petals fluttering to the ground in her wake. “I don’t think you hate me,” Fluttershy said after a time.

“Of course I hate you,” Terra said. “You took everything from me.”

Fluttershy acknowledged this with a serene tilt of her head. “Everything you had made you suffer.”

Terra swallowed. She was right about some things, with that. But not about everything. “Godhood,” she said, biting each syllable of the word. “You crippled me. Do you know what it’s like to be bound to the earth by my own weight? You think I want this mockery of a crown? I’m a prisoner of this forest, not a princess. I used to be Queen of the World.”

Fluttershy didn’t answer her immediately, which infuriated Terra more. When she did speak, her answer was short. “You were more powerless as Queen of the World than you are now,” she said simply.

Terra didn’t attack Fluttershy. She was in control. “I hate you,” she said instead.

“You don’t have to.”

“I do. You think I’m misguided and that that’s why I hate you, but you’re wrong. You’re just some kid who thinks she’s beyond reproach. You think you’re the greatest good on this world, which is why you have your friends do all your evil for you.”

Admittedly, it wasn’t Terra’s best, but after so many days of having this conversation with Fluttershy, she was running out of material. Fluttershy had to have a weakness, but Terra couldn’t find it. It wasn’t for a lack of trying.

“You’re scared,” Fluttershy said as they came across a fallen tree. She flew to the top of the massive trunk and offered Terra her hooves to help her climb over. “But you don’t have to be scared. You want to keep being bad. You want to stay where you are because if you move you’ll look back. And if you look back you’ll see exactly where you were, and it isn’t a nice place at all.”

Terra spat and began to pick her way around the fallen tree. Fluttershy met her again as she reached the upturned roots.

“You’re afraid of facing what you’ve done, of feeling the guilt, so you cling to all your hate.”

“That’s not why I hate you,” Terra said through gritted teeth. “I hate you because you talk to everypony like they’re a three year old just learning to speak or a baby chick with a broken wing. I hate you because every day I see you wearing a crown you don’t even understand.”

“Maybe,” Fluttershy said. “Have you ever tried complementing somepony, Terra?”

Terra rolled her eyes. “You want a compliment. Fine. I like your mane. Happy?”

“Thank you,” Fluttershy said. “Now I’ll do you.”

“Let me guess,” Terra said. “I’m beautiful.”

“You are,” Fluttershy said. “But that’s not a good compliment. Anypony could tell you that and it wouldn’t be special. The trick is to think of something that only you can say.”

There she went, with the three year old voice. Terra was going to be sick.

“Terra,” Fluttershy said. “Even if it is only hate and anger, I admire that after all you’ve been through you still choose to feel. I think that makes you the bravest pony I’ve ever met. You’re strong.”

For a moment it was as though Terra’s entire emotional spectrum had been struck by lightning. Strong. Any time she’d failed to resist Titan’s spell—which was every time—she’d murdered innocents. She’d learned to enjoy it. She hadn’t been under or needed the spell for hundreds of years. Terra had revelled in suffering.

And Fluttershy had called her brave for it. If anything, Terra had failed. Failed first to resist Titan’s irresistible spell, then failed to stop Fluttershy and her friends in Ponyville. She was weak.

“You want a compliment, Fluttershy? Fine. For you I will say this: at least you’re not like my daughters.”

“Tell me about them,” Fluttershy said as they began to walk through another clearing. A group of timberwolves saw them from the other side of the field, but did nothing.

“Celestia has to prove herself clever at every chance she gets. She’s callous and treacherous and makes everything as complicated as she can just to seem smarter. Her first line of defense is convolution. Everyone who loves her does so by her design, not by their own free will. Now, I don’t hate her for that. I hate her because she won’t admit she’s just as bad as the rest of us.”

“Oh,” Fluttershy said. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“No.”

“I think that if Celestia was ever like that, she’s changed. And I think that the only reason we’re talking about her is because you can’t talk about me anymore. You’re trying so hard to despise me but it’s starting to slip through your hooves.”

“Please, child. You wish you were smart enough to know what made me tick.”

“Do you have a compliment for Celestia too?” Another flower burst, and petals settled to the ground behind Fluttershy, some sticking to her wings.

“Sure,” Terra said. “At least she isn’t Luna.”

This time, Terra didn’t wait for Fluttershy to pause and then start talking like she usually did. “Luna was my real apprentice. I raised her. I know her. She’s done so many horrible things and nopony cares. They all just let her carry on because she’s doing good now. And she seems to care least of all. She can frolic about as though she’s just forgotten about all the villages she starved or burned or snowed over during the war.”

“You could be like that too.”

“I never said I hated her because I was jealous.”

“But that’s what you want.”

Terra made a sound of disgust. “Are we going to keep going?” She stopped so that Fluttershy would stop too, turning to face her in the clearing. “Because as much as I hate my daughter Luna, I will say this: at least she isn’t Twilight Sparkle.”

Terra looked for a reaction that didn’t come. Not even a frown crossed Fluttershy’s face. Instead she nodded, as though this made perfect sense to her. It infuriated Terra even more.

“I’ve hardly met her and I say I despise her and all you do is nod? She’s your best friend.”

“One of my best friends,” Fluttershy said. Her tone had changed. She wasn't talking to Terra like she was a three year old anymore. Good.

“Whatever. She disgusts me. She complains about how gods should act even as she takes whatever she wants, and she calls it right when that happens to align with her twisted morals. She moves the world around her rather than moving through it, and all the while she complains that she should have such a responsibility.”

Fluttershy opened her mouth to speak, but Terra waved her into silence. She wasn’t finished; in fact, she felt like she was just getting started. However much she despised Fluttershy and Celestia and Luna paled in comparison to what she felt now, at the thought of Twilight Sparkle. She clung to her hatred, and it warmed her.

“She’s a child playing god. All of you worship her as being perfect and she shrugs it off just to maintain the image of humility. If she was actually humble she wouldn’t live in The Citadel. But I guess she’s too busy carrying out divine mandates and playing creator to think of that.”

Terra began to walk away. “Still, for Twilight I will say this,” she said over her shoulder. “At least she isn’t Titan.”

“You’re wrong.”

Terra froze.

“That’s not why you hate Twilight. That’s not it at all.” Fluttershy moved to stand beside her, then leaned in. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Shut up.”

“That’s not a yes or a no, Terra.”

“Shut up!” Terra shouted. Normally she would’ve considered raising her voice a mark of losing control, which she’d consider a loss. Now she barely noticed.

“You hate Twilight because Harmony chose her and not you.”

Terra attacked, and her invisible collar halted her in the air before Fluttershy and sent her reeling to the ground. Her head spun, and she wiped dirt from her muzzle with a hoof. “Damn you. You don’t know anything.”

“That’s what Twilight says,” Fluttershy said. “That she’s the culmination of an entire line of ponies engineered to succeed her.”

“Twilight is a kid who got lucky,” Terra spat. “Harmony never even knew her. She came along at the right time and place and pushed the proper buttons.”

Fluttershy’s face was stony, impassive. “But you didn’t.”

“No,” Terra said, her voice almost failing her. “The only thing I was supposed to do was be happy and make the world a better place.”

A pause. “I think your mother loved you, Terra.”

“Why do you do this? Why torment me? Why can’t you just let me live out my meaningless life and then die?” There she went, shouting again. If Fluttershy was trying to upset her, she was winning.

But what did it matter if Fluttershy won their daily little game? She’d won everything else. Terra was the only pony without any magic on the face of the world. She was nothing. She’d be dead in a century. Why should she bother fighting the only pony left to fight?

“I’m horrible to you,” Terra said. “Just take the hint and leave me alone.”

“There are some creatures that, when wounded, try to scratch you even as you bandage them up.”

It was pathetic. Fluttershy stuck by her out of pity and the sense of fulfillment that came from nurturing. But would Terra rather be alone?

“You don’t know anything about my mother,” Terra said. She looked up, at The Citadel that could be seen from any point in the Everfree Forest and miles beyond.

“You could tell me about her, if you’d like.”

“Harmony was a coward,” Terra said.

This gave Fluttershy the look of confusion that Terra had expected to see earlier. She marveled at the other mare’s confusion—had Fluttershy thought that of all ponies, maybe Terra still felt something for her dead mother? Ridiculous.

“She was weak,” Terra continued, sitting. She had no idea what she was saying anymore. She’d done her best not to think about her mother for years. Terra had kept Harmony out of her thoughts to spare her mother’s memory the bile that she lavished on everything else that lived. She’d ignored Harmony because her mother was almost sacred. But that wasn’t love.

“Harmony was a coward,” Terra said. She felt suddenly cold, and knew that she wasn’t feeling anger—or if she was, it was no kind of rage she’d ever known. “She left us all alone. She died rather than face her husband. She should have fought.”

Her eyes began to burn, but Terra was in control. She refused to cry, even when Fluttershy sat down beside her and drew her, unwillingly, into a soft embrace. Terra couldn’t pull herself out of Fluttershy's hooves—her crown would probably stop her if she tried, so she didn’t.

“She abandoned me,” Terra whispered. “She left me alone, with... with him.” Her eyes grew suddenly wide.

“Shhh,” Fluttershy said, stroking a hoof through her mane—Terra’s whole body went rigid at the touch. “It’s alright. He’s gone now. It’s just you and me. It’s alright.”

Terra should have told Fluttershy to stop, because she hated them. She hated them all for what they’d done and for how it had worked. Who was this mortal mare, to care for her through all her spite and malice? She could have told Fluttershy to stop, and Fluttershy would have stopped.

She didn’t.

There was no land more magical than Equestria. The power was woven through the air, the earth, and the celestial sphere, and its threads went deep. So deep, in fact, that the casual observer could hardly imagine the world existing without it. Equestria had always been colorful, prosperous, and full of life. And it always would be.

Celestia picked at threads with the care and precision of a surgeon, unwinding the intricate patterns that Titan had used to make his own world and then spinning the resulting threads into her own. It was a painstakingly slow endeavor, and she’d been working for weeks now, day in and day out. But already the world was responding to her efforts, taking the first steps toward its ultimate state. The clouds would break and flow at the wings of the pegasi. The crops would grow in abundance at the hooves of the earthponies. The animals would once again hear the voice of the eraterus. Equestria would bend to its true masters once more.

She heard the whisper of wings parting branches, and Celestia turned to see Luna glide into the glade and touch down on the earth beside her. “Shouldn’t you be ruling the world, sister? I would think that they would need you now more than ever.”

Celestia nodded to her sister, then split her mind two ways so she could hold a conversation while remaining focused on her work. “Twilight still sends me letters and comes to visit asking for help, but for the most part she does a good job, even if she’s a poor substitute for me. This,” Celestia said, referring to the magic she was working even as they spoke. “This only I can do.”

“And flying across the kingdom to rally relief from the unaffected cities?” Luna asked, taking a seat. “Is that something only I can do?”

Celestia raised an eyebrow at her sister. “I’m sure you’ve been doing it in a way that nopony else could.”

“For your sake I think I’ll deign not to take offense.”

Celestia smiled. “For my sake, of course.”

“And when you’re done here?” Luna asked. “Will you take the reins then?”

Celestia cocked her head to one side. “What makes you so curious?”

“I have every reason to be curious,” Luna said. “Twilight is an alicorn now. She’s master of The Citadel. She, not we, defeated him. How does she fit in? What’s her place in Equestria? The two of you must have discussed this at some point.”

“Mm,” was all Celestia had to say at first. “We have, but we haven’t come to any conclusions. Twilight can rule, this we know—she’s proven herself in that regard. But she can’t rule as well as I can, not Equestria. I’ve taken care of this kingdom for over a thousand years. Even if we give her sovereignty, common sense dictates that I’ll still be making most of the decisions. Still, putting her front and center could have its benefits.”

“Oh?”

Celestia nodded. “Right now she’s a symbol. The one great gain to come out of all of this. A new alicorn. I think it would do ponykind well to have their victory elevated before them. I can still keep things running from the background.”

“An interesting course,” Luna said. “It was good seeing you again. I’ll be flying to Pegasopolis to order the formation of a new windstream tomorrow.” She spread her wings to take flight.

Celestia watched her and felt a stab of discomfort. It was good seeing you again just felt so... strange between the two of them. They’d never needed soft words to reinforce the bond that they both knew existed between them, but still...

“Luna.”

Luna paused in her pre-flight pose and gave Celestia a look over her shoulder.

“I...” Celestia sighed. “I don’t think I give you enough credit, to be honest.”

A raised eyebrow. “Oh?”

“The more I think about it, the more I realize that you played every part you were given perfectly,” Celestia said. “You took Twilight’s friends and you hardened their hearts for war. You sent them against Terra and reignited the Elements. You pushed Twilight to break the barrier, to take up the power to destroy, and to become the leader they needed. I think you lost every personal battle you fought, but you somehow won us the war.”

“Mm,” Luna said, turning to face Celestia. “As much as I love to hear your praise, Twilight is the hero of Equestria. I’m just a shadow.”

Celestia smiled. “Twilight might be Equestria’s hero,” she said. “But you’re mine.”

Luna came closer and leaned her head against Celestia’s neck, a rare moment of physical contact. “You saved her,” Celestia whispered. “Where I damned her, you brought her back.” She lay her head atop her sister’s. Luna didn’t say anything, and Celestia followed suit. It wasn’t a moment for words. It was hardly a moment at all. It was the brief flicker of tenderness that always seemed so fleeting to an immortal, so small that it was all they could do to stop and savor its passing.

A week after New Canterlot was deemed complete, Twilight Sparkle became a princess. But first there was a parade.

No trace of the old ruin could be found on the sparkling streets of the now-populated city. All of it had been taken, fused, and reshaped into the spires, bridges, and domed buildings that had characterized the old city. Now there were even entrances to the labyrinth—after ten months of using it for shelter and housing, it was a part of the city proper. They’d only had to rearrange things so that it wasn’t impossible to navigate. Now it almost mirrored the streets above.

Streets that were packed with ponies come to see their new princess, Twilight saw with a tinge of nervousness. She banished her nerves with a shake of her head; it wouldn’t do for her subjects to see her feel fear, and in truth there was nothing for her to fear in the first place.

The chariot began to move as the marching band struck up a powerful tune, all drums and brass. A cheer rose up from the streets around her, and Twilight had the feeling that it wouldn’t die down until she got to the palace.

This had not been Twilight’s idea, but Celestia’s. The ostentatious parade, the coronation, the city-wide celebration afterwards—all of them just seemed so... misplaced. Twilight didn’t see what there was to celebrate other than an end to their labour. When so many of ponykind’s greatest were dead and so many homes destroyed, what right did the living have to celebrate?

Celestia saw it differently. There was, she had said, one thing that ponykind had gained from Titan’s war, and that was another alicorn princess. Most ponies hadn’t fought in any battles, just lived in poverty and fear. Let Twilight be the symbol of their deliverance, and let her ascendance be the idea they could cling to for comfort. There was no dishonesty in that. Twilight would not deny her subjects that happiness.

Look calm. Smile. Nod and wave. It’s easy once you remember how much you love them.

And it was. Twilight passed through a throng of ponies, probably more ponies than she had ever seen in her life, all a part of the race that rose to fight the alicorn’s war. Perhaps without her they would have failed, but without them she would have fared no better.

Don’t look too kind, you’re a war heroine. They expect to see a princess, but also the Godslayer. The General.

She did her best to look determined and resolute, if that did any good. What was she supposed to do, stare straight ahead? Waving too much made her feel like a bit of a fool, and she wasn’t sure how wide or tight her smile was supposed to be. Obviously she couldn’t stand perfectly still, but striking a pose would make her feel ridiculous. How was parading in front of a crowd so difficult?

“You’re doing just fine, Twilight. Stop worrying.” Celestia’s voice contained the barest hint of humor.

“If I were doing fine,” Twilight said dryly. “You wouldn’t be able to tell that I’m worried.”

“Nonsense. I can always tell when you’re not all right.”

Twilight answered with the mental equivalent of a grumble.

“Are you truly so worried about the impression you’re making?” Celestia asked.

“I always thought this was the easy part of your job.”

“It is,” Celestia said. “But perhaps it does take getting used to. Shall I give you a lesson to help you relax?”

“I seem to recall being your faithful student.”

A flash of joy from Celestia. “So you were. Now I want you to look at the crowd about half a block ahead of you. This way you see them but you still always look ahead.”

Twilight looked. At that distance her eyes could still make out individual faces, all of them writ with an awe that she was all too familiar with. It wasn’t just the way her soldiers had looked at her—it was the way every pony had looked at Celestia since Twilight could remember.

“Your smile is one of confidence, not of joy or love. Very good. You never used to able to smile like that.”

“You can see me?”

“Of course I can, Twilight.” A pause. “I had thought you didn’t see yourself as my student anymore.”

“I didn’t.”

“A fine way to break my duplicitous heart. Now stand up as straight as you possibly can on your forelegs and give your hind a little slack. You are rising, Twilight Sparkle. Let them see it.”

“You know I’m not angry with you anymore,” Twilight said as she adjusted her weight.

A pause. “I know, Twilight.”

The chariot rolled on, and the parade trailed along behind her. The streets of new Canterlot were vast, even if the city wasn’t as large as it had been. Even the concerted effort of ponykind and an incredible amount of magic wasn’t enough to reforge the entire capital in ten months.

“It was good to love you because you were a god, because you were my princess, because you were perfect. But it was easy. I guess us grown-ups are supposed to love each other when it’s difficult. When it’s needed but not deserved. I think it’s better to love you this way.”

“A finer lesson I could not have taught you myself,” Celestia said. Then, “You should put it in a letter. Now raise your chin up a little more.”

“...You’re joking, right?”

“You’re about to turn into the main square,” Celestia said. “There are more ponies here than you have ever seen in one place in your life, Twilight. All of them are going to be looking at you. I want you to look ahead at Luna and I.”

True to Celestia’s word, the main square was filled with what appeared to be twice the amount of ponies it had been designed to accommodate—and Twilight, having designed it, would know. A thin strip of space led from Twilight to the foot of the Castle Canterlot grounds, where Luna and Celestia stood a foot above everyone else, on the first of the many gradual steps that led to the castle proper.

“Do not be overwhelmed, Twilight. Be overwhelming. Right hoof up just a little.”

“You know,” Twilight said. “Now more than ever, with my new responsibilities, I need you to teach me.”

Across the distance between them, Celestia gave a slight smile. “Need, is it? Spread your wings. Suddenly.”

She did so with a great whoosh, and noted the shadow cast on the ground before her, perfectly proportioned by the position of the sun. Now where have I seen that before, Twilight thought as a deafeningly loud cheer reached her ears.

“You know,” she said as her chariot pulled to a halt. “This actually feels kind of good.”

“It ought to. Now alight down the side and come around so you don’t have to do a full turn when you get here. You need to be facing the crowd.”

Twilight did as she was told, once again doing her best to look... well, regal. Did she have to walk different, take the steps differently? Should she have folded her wings as she did when she left the chariot? Such silly things to worry on, but there they were.

And there was New Canterlot, she thought as she looked out at the city. The natural slope of the mountain laid it out before her eyes in full. It wasn’t as big as the old city, no: but there was room to grow. Perhaps it was only made of stone and glass, and perhaps it was fragile, but it had been built by their subjects and her word, and Twilight couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride seeing it now, just as she had every time she’d seen it before.

“I said need,” Twilight said. “And it’s true that I will need your help. But I want it, too. I want you to teach me.”

“I’m happy to hear it, my faithful student. Luna?”

Luna’s voice filled Twilight’s mind like liquid. “The first rule of immortality, Twilight Sparkle, is that you will die. All life, even ours, is limited, and this gives it value. Shall this be the way you spend yours?”

“Yes.”

“Then kneel, Twilight Sparkle. Supplicate yourself before them, for you are their servant.”

Twilight fell to the stone beneath her and shut her eyes. “Wait, that’s it? We’re not going to say anything? Out loud, I mean.”

“Words,” Celestia said. Twilight got the distinct feeling that she had rolled her eyes. “I speak fifty one languages, six of them isolates. What words are there for this?”

A weight settled onto her head, heavy, but not overburdening. The cheering redoubled.

“Now rise,” Luna said softly. “As their champion, our sister, and Equestria’s princess.”

Twilight rose, and as she opened her eyes she saw that they had begun to kneel. It seemed as though a wave travelled through the crowd, until all of them were giving respect to their new princess.

“I know you’ll do well, my faithful student.”

Twilight swallowed, but couldn’t hide a smile nonetheless. She had a lot to learn.

THE END

He Has Returned

The sun was setting. It was already mostly hidden by the horizon, its dying rays giving the world a warm red tint. In the east, the sky was already fading to purple, and stars were slowly winking into existence, the tiny pinpoints of luminescence eager to twinkle in the absence of Celestia’s sun. Lording over the first stars to appear, already halfway over the horizon, was her sister’s moon, full and gleaming.

Celestia allowed herself a slight frown of irritation at the sight of the rising moon. She preferred to work by daylight, but it wasn’t as though she could simply refuse to lower the sun. Certainly, she would love nothing more than to deny Luna her “beautiful” night, but that would be an unthinkable breach of the rules, even during a time of war.

She tilted her wings, bringing herself into a steep dive. Plummeting downward, she felt the thrill of flight and made a mental note to do it more often. Of late, she had been spending the majority of her time holed up in tents meeting with her commanders and planning their latest move against Luna. It would be nice to get out and stretch her wings for once.

Now, however, was not the time for indulgent thrill-seeking. Celestia broke through a layer of clouds, and the scene of the battle unfolded before her. The ground was scorched and scoured of foliage, leaving only dry, gray soil. Armored earthponies wrestled and charged, crushing each other with their incredible strength. Unicorns impaled enemy soldiers with metal shards, and some wielded deadly magical blades. In the air, pegasi circled one another, occasionally colliding with bone-crunching speed, at which point one would fall to become another dead pony on the field below.

Celestia picked a group of Luna’s soldiers, identifiable by the black-and-blue of their uniforms, and angled herself towards them as she dove downwards. As she tore through the air, several pegasi turned from their aerial combat to regard her. Those who wore the white-and-gold of her army did so with awe. Those who wore the black-and-blue of Luna, however, did so with terror. As she passed, a pegasus called out to the forces below her.

The contingent of Luna’s troops looked up, but it was too late. Celestia flared her wings, causing herself to slow abruptly as she drew nearer to the ground. Then she cast her blade, conjuring a brilliant shaft of pure sunlight directly above her head. She focused more of her magical power, and Zenith, her blade, surged with a brilliant light. Luna’s soldiers, blinded by her magic, were dazed and disoriented as she landed amongst them.

She cut down three before any of them could react, Zenith cauterizing their wounds closed as it sheared them into pieces. A unicorn, the first of her enemies to react, threw a set of sharp shards of iron at her. Celestia grabbed the nearest live earthpony with telekinesis, then tossed him into the path of the shards. They tore into his flesh, and the unicorn, having just harmed one of his allies, lost his focus. He ceased to grip the iron shards, and Celestia took advantage of his mistake, tearing them out of the earthpony and launching them back along their trajectory to bury themselves in the unicorn’s neck.

An earthpony tried to jump on her, and she rolled under him, beheading her enemy with Zenith even as she came to her feet. She kicked out at another unicorn with her hind legs, using her earthpony magic to strengthen the blow. The unicorn’s skull crumpled, and Celestia struck out at another earthpony with her blade.

She turned to face the final two soldiers who were proximate to her, both unicorns. She deflected two iron shards with her blade, then cast a bolt of fire toward one of her adversaries. Her target, a young mare, ducked her spell, but did not evade the spinning metal disc that suddenly shot through the air and opened her throat. She crumpled to the dirt.

The remaining unicorn, a stallion, looked from his fallen ally to Celestia. He backed away slightly, clearly aware of the fact that he stood no chance against the alicorn. Celestia did nothing. Instead, she watched as a tiny point of blue energy built around the far side of the unicorn’s neck. There was a flash of blue light, and another unicorn suddenly stood beside her only remaining adversary. The new arrival bowed sharply to Celestia as the remaining soldier of Luna’s fell to the ground, slain by her teleport splice.

“Lieutenant Coruscare.” Celestia greeted the new unicorn, and she rose out of her bow. She was a deep blue mare with a long, straight mane of white that contained a single streak of black. She wore a stiff white coat, hidden under a flowing white cloak, each of which was trimmed with gold. Along each side of the collar of her cloak were five golden sunbursts, each within a circle. She was the most powerful unicorn alive, and as such was a tremendous asset on the battlefield.

Celestia watched as her own troops surged around her, overtaking their position and pushing Luna’s forces back. “We assume,” she said to the unicorn standing before her. “That thou hath a report for us?”

Astor Coruscare nodded. “Yes, princess. We have lost the ridge, but with minimal casualties. Luna’s forces overtook us despite our slight numerical advantage.”

Celestia frowned. She had prepared for the eventuality, of course, but it was still a nuisance. “Why?” she asked simply.

“I wasn’t present, but it seems her personal guards had something to do with it. The pegasus destroyed an entire air contingent by herself. Were I there, we would not have lost. But I thought I would be more useful on the front. I’m sorry, Princess.”

Celestia thought for a moment, then decided that Astor had not done anything wrong, and did not warrant a punishment. She knew she was playing favorites, but the unicorn was her favorite; she was smarter and stronger than any other commander in her army by an order of magnitude.

“We shalt retake the ridge,” she said at last. “Thou wilt taketh command of the twenty-second and the thirty-fifth, along with a contingent of air power. I shalt strike from above, opening a-”

She stopped, looking up sharply. The troops ahead of them, the ones who had been pushing Luna’s forces back, had begun to scream. The sound wasn’t the usual cacophony of war, but rather the bone-chilling sound of trained soldiers wailing in terror. Through the chaos of the battlefield, she saw her soldiers frantically running toward her, weapons and armor abandoned, and made out a single shout:

“It’s Luna!”

Celestia felt a surge of both hatred and excitement. She shared a look with her lieutenant. “Princess,” Astor began, “let me-”

“Nay, Astor.” Celestia spread her wings and brought Zenith to a ready position. “Thou art not prepared to face her. Not yet. Take the ridge.”

Astor made a sullen face, but nodded and vanished in a burst of blue energy. Celestia brought herself forward and into the fray with several beats of her wings. She landed amongst her scattered soldiers, and flared Zenith so as to draw their attention.

“To us!” she shouted, “Form ranks! Push forward, soldiers, for Equestria! In the name of the King!”

She slew two of Luna’s warriors with a single swipe of her blade, then set a unicorn on fire with a simple spell. “To us!” she shouted again. She scanned the battlefield, searching for a sign of her sister, but Luna was nowhere to be seen.

“In the name of the king!” her soldiers took up the battle cry, surging around her to push deeper into the battlefield once again. It was then that Luna made her presence known once again.

A torrent of bats came over her forces, black with glowing blue eyes. They swarmed around her soldiers, tearing tiny chunks out of their flesh when they could. Her soldiers screamed and curled up on the ground, unable to fight the newly arrived foe. Celestia scowled at the magical swarm, then channeled power into her blade. It burst into brilliant light once more, and the bats withdrew, screeching as they converged into a dark cloud above her, just outside the light cast by her blade.

They funneled upward, then arced down toward the battlefield, converging on the form of a blue alicorn. There, they landed, each bat melting into an elaborate, hooded cloak that fell loosely over the other princess’s form. Celestia watched the pointless display with disinterest. She stepped forward, away from her soldiers, until she and Luna stood apart from their armies. To Celestia, Luna aligned perfectly with the rising moon on the horizon. She knew that in her sister’s eyes, she stood against the setting sun.

Luna spoke, magically charging her voice with volume. “The sun is setting, sister. Best thou find a light to huddle beneath, lest the dark devour thee!”

Celestia didn’t answer, instead raising a single eyebrow at her sister’s words. Luna always had been a little over-dramatic. She held her blade at the ready, counting on the fact that her sister would strike first. Luna drew her own blade, an almost identical shaft of concentrated moonlight, then charged.

Their blades met before them, the energy between the two magical constructs flaring, and Celestia felt the corrosive bite of the magic radiating from Luna’s blade, Nadir. She drew away, pushing against Luna’s blade with her own even as Zenith singed the hair of her adversary. They each pulled their blades away, and the harmful effect of Luna’s blade subsided. Celestia pressed the attack, striking out at her sister with a series of lightning-fast blows. Luna, in a display of excellent bladecasting, either blocked or turned each blow away with Nadir before beating her wings to flip over Celestia’s head.

Their blades met once again in the air above Celestia, and she saw her sister sneer. Luna landed, swinging Nadir at Celestia’s face, and Celestia ducked under the weapon, feeling the odd magical burning sensation that seemed to emanate from the blade. She tapped her unicorn magic, and a wall of yellow flames erupted underneath her sister. Luna shrieked, her flesh singed by the magical fire, then threw herself into the air, the force of her takeoff pushing flames in every direction. Celestia allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction.

In the air, Luna’s horn glowed, and her dark cloak broke into hundreds of tiny bats once more. They flew at Celestia, battering her face and neck with tiny impacts and obscuring her vision. She snarled, then drew the flames she summoned earlier about herself with her magic. The fire billowed and churned around her, destroying the tiny magical beasts, then condensed, clinging to the princess as it formed a suit of golden armor and flowing white cloak.

Too late, Celestia looked upward to see her sister descending upon her, Nadir outstretched. Celestia felt a strange cold feeling as the blade came toward her. Unable to raise her own weapon in time, she hit herself with a wave of telekinesis to throw herself quickly downward and to the side. She was not fast enough, however, and a freezing pain blossomed in her side as Nadir cut away a small piece of her hide. She winced as she came out of her roll, then deflected another series of blows delivered by her sister.

She found herself regretting the decision not to bring Astor. Luna might not have Celestia’s capabilities when it came to tactics and magic, but her physical prowess was far superior to Celestia’s. As their blades met in front of their faces once more, Luna sneered. “Art thou badly injured, sister?” her deep voice vibrated through the air around them, ruffling Celestia’s pink mane. “Perhaps thou shouldst attempt to think the wound closed.”

Celestia ignored the taunt as she pushed her sister away with her blade. Luna stumbled back, and did not come at her again as Celestia spoke. “We know that thou hast no penchant for thought before action,” she said as they began to circle one another, “but if thou didst think before acting, thou might have realized that this,” she gave a general nod to the battlefield around them, “is but a distraction.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed. Celestia continued, “The pegasus that thou keepest on thine guard,” she said. “We hope she is not of any import to thee.”

Luna laughed with her tremendous voice. “How couldst this be a distraction? We drew thee out, sister.”

Celestia responded with her own laugh, which was much quieter on account of the fact that she did not waste power enhancing her voice. “We knew that thou wouldst attack at moonrise,” she said. “Thou dost always attack at moonrise. Thine pegasus is as good as dead.”

Luna’s face began to show a hint of doubt, and her smile vanished. Celestia sneered. “Predictable as always, sister. Thou never couldst see the strings. Remember this lesson when thou doth cradle the corpse of thine favorite soldier in thy arms: thou canst never beat us.”

Luna backed away, her eyes shooting towards the sky. She slowly shook her head.

“Every victory that thou claim, every soldier of mine that thou slay, thou doest by our design.”

Luna took flight, undoubtedly to save her strongest soldier and the ridge, and Celestia ended the memory.

-

The Immortal Game

A story by AestheticB

Celestia sat in the center of her circular chambers, breathing steadily and with her eyes shut. The memory had not been a long one, but its effect on her had been quite strong. Her breathing quickened slightly as she tried to quell the surging emotions inside her. It had been a terrible memory, one from days long since past. Examining it now left her with an overwhelming sense of regret. She gave up trying to control her breathing and let out a long sigh. She and Luna both had done horrible, horrible things to each other.

She had failed as a sister. Failed to protect the one pony more important to her than any other pony in existence. Let herself be twisted into a weapon of war and done nothing as her sister had undergone the same transformation. How they, the fastest of friends, had become such bitter rivals in ancient times still sometimes baffled Celestia. Their separation had resulted in decades of loneliness for both of them.

Celestia realized that she was angry. Yes, she clearly identified the emotion as rage, a feeling she did not experience often. She and Luna had not simply decided one day to take up arms against each other and sunder the entire race of pony. Somepony had been responsible for their conflict. Somepony had hurt Celestia, had hurt Luna, and had indirectly caused the deaths of tens of thousands of ponies. It was only natural, Celestia decided, that she be angry at them. She let the rage run its course rather than stifling it.

She stood off of the wide circular bed that dominated her chambers and began to pace. Examining the memory had been necessary, she had decided. She would need to look at others from the same time period. She had already been over the more immediate memories of her sister, the ones surrounding her corruption and the birth of Nightmare Moon. Now, she would have to go deeper into the past.

Luna was the reason she had called up the dreadful event in the first place. Even after so much time in the present, Celestia’s sister was still acting distant and sullen. Most of it, Celestia believed, was from guilt. Still, there were things she didn’t know about her sister, behaviours that she didn’t understand. She needed to delve into the past, remember everything she could about her sister, so as to gain the greatest possible understanding of the other princess. It was Celestia’s responsibility to ease Luna’s troubles, and to help her sister adjust to the new world.

Luna was having trouble, and it didn’t help that the ponies in Canterlot were either terrified of her, or ignored her outright. It didn’t help that Luna spent four hours a night sitting in an empty room as nopony came to her court. Celestia had watched matters unfold for a time, but decided after a point to intervene. She would not let her sister spiral downward into depression and jealousy once again. She had failed Luna too many times before.

Yes, she decided, she would continue to delve further into the disturbing memories of the past. She would also make a greater effort to manipulate the palace staff from afar, nudging the right ponies in the right places. She would need to ensure Luna had ponies around her to talk to, ponies who would not shrink away from their princess. She would also need to find problems that Luna, and not Celestia, could solve so that the other princess did not feel redundant. She would, if she had to, create problems for her sister.

She made out the sound of two sets of hooves approaching, and was not surprised to hear a knock at her door. She briefly wondered what kind of problem had arisen that warranted disturbing her at such a late hour, then telekinetically opened the door.

Standing in the doorway to her chambers was Index, one of the palace administrators. He was shifting from hoof to hoof, clearly anxious. Several metres behind him stood Princess Luna, wearing a dark scowl.

“Princess,” Index gave a low bow before coming to his feet again. “Forgive me for asking your counsel at such a late hour.”

Celestia looked from Index to Luna, confused. Luna shot her a glare, looking supremely displeased. Had she been unable to attend to whatever Index needed? It seemed unlikely; by now Luna was well-versed in the workings of modern Equestrian government. A feeling of unease began to settle in Celestia’s stomach. This was not good. “Continue,” she said to Index.

Index seemed somewhat cowed by Celestia’s one word response and the fact that she had not excused him. He shot an uneasy glance back at princess Luna before turning back to Celestia. “I-” he began. He worked his mouth, clearly at a loss for words. “Could we speak... privately?” he asked finally, shooting another glance back at Luna.

Suddenly Celestia understood. The request was so disrespectful to Luna as to be insulting.

“No,” Celestia said simply. She tried not to sound too harsh, and under normal circumstances she would have been much kinder to the poor unicorn. Luna took precedence, however. “What did you come here to ask me?”

Index, clearly distraught, wrung his hooves. “Luna-”

“Princess Luna.”

“Princess Luna, yes, a thousand apologies, Princess. Princess Luna has ordered that the escort assigned to Twilight Sparkle be abolished.”

Suddenly, Celestia understood. Twilight was in Canterlot that night, to spend the night with her and Luna. It was tradition that as a guest she be given an escort of at least two of the Princess’s guards. Such a measure was by no means necessary, but Celestia did not want to leave her pupil alone. She was currently eating a meal after arriving from Ponyville. It was very late, and nopony would be in the dining hall to eat with her. Twilight, while quite introverted, would likely not appreciate taking her supper completely by herself. Celestia had thought ahead and seen to it that she and her pet dragon would have somepony to talk to.

For whatever reason, Luna had ordered Twilight’s escort away. Celestia couldn’t fathom why, but she also knew that Twilight would be fine without them. The young mare knew her way around the palace. Index, however, had not seen fit to follow through on Luna’s order. He had come to Celestia rather than carry it out.

Celestia concealed her immense displeasure at the situation. The last thing Luna needed was somepony questioning her authority. Hopefully, Celestia could still turn things around.

Rather than answer Index, Celestia turned to her sister. “I am so sorry, Luna. Please, forgive him for his appalling breach in etiquette.”

At this, Index paled and glanced quickly at Luna before turning back to Celestia once more. “Princess,” he said. “If I have done something wrong, please accept my most sincere apologies! I never-”

“Index, you have worked in the palace for what, twelve years?” Thirteen years, four months, six days, Celestia recalled.

“Thirteen, Princess.”

“And you have enjoyed serving so close to me, yes?”

“Of course, Princess. It is an honor to work under you.”

“And when you cannot solve a problem, who do you bring it to?”

“Why, you, Princess. Your wisdom and judgement are unparalleled.”

“And when I give you an order?”

“I would follow it to the death, my Princess.”

Celestia leaned forward, and spoke softly to the administrator. “And why,” she said, “do you do these things?”

He began to answer immediately. “Because you are the ruler of Equestria,” he said. “Because you are my Princess, and-” realization dawned on his face. Her slumped, then spoke again, losing his indignant tone. “Princess...” he began.

“Not to me.”

Index turned to face Luna. “I have wronged you, Princess. From the bottom of my heart, I ask that you forgive me.”

Luna gave the kneeling pony a cold stare. When she spoke, her voice was hard. “If thou had sought to undermine my sister’s authority, what might thine punishment be?”

At this, Index began to tremble visibly. “I-I-I-” he stammered. Luna cut him off.

“Be about thine business.” she said curtly. “And do not make this mistake again.”

Index gave a tiny yelp at the reprimand before hurrying away. He cast one last look at the alicorns before rushing around a corner as fast as he could walk without running.

Celestia felt a tinge of pity for the poor pony, then stepped out to meet her sister. “I was giving you an opening to be nice, Luna,” she said, “that’s why I was so harsh with him to begin with. So you could seem kind by comparison.”

Luna scoffed. “Thou callest that harsh? By ancient standards, I was kind. He still has a job.”

“We don’t live in ancient times anymore, Luna. A thousand years have passed since you last ruled.”

“As if I could forget,” Luna said wearily. “When thou art twice my size, and everypony looks at me strangely when I say ‘thou’.” She gestured to the end of the hallway. “Shall we?”

Celestia began to walk with her sister towards the dining hall. “Are you excited to meet Twilight?”

For the first time in several days, Celestia saw her sister laugh. “Thine last student was a weapon bred and trained to murder me. Forgive me if I am less than thrilled to meet another.”

“Luna!”

“I was kidding, sister. Twilight and I have already met, and she was interesting enough. I shall be pleased to be formally introduced.

“Oh, right,” Celestia said as they rounded a corner. She had known Luna was joking, but her objection had served to draw more attention to the fact and possibly encourage her to do it more often in the future. “Funny that you should mention Astor, I was just thinking of her. You remember how the Coruscare scale is named after her, on account of the fact that she’s a perfect ten?”

“I do.” The Coruscare scale measured a unicorn’s magical energy.

“She’s a nine point three now. The scale had to be reordered to accommodate Twilight Sparkle. She’s the new ten.”

“Element of Magic indeed,” Luna muttered. “Hopefully she is satisfied with having defeated me once already.”

They were moving through one of the palace’s larger passageways, and the guards lining the walls bowed as they passed. “So tell me,” Celestia said. “Why did you want to have Twilight’s escort sent away in the first place?”

“I don’t like the captain,” Luna said simply.

Celestia stopped in the middle of the hallway to give her sister a look. “You don’t like the captain? That’s your only reason?”

Luna simply kept walking, giving Celestia a smug smile. “That’s my only reason. He seems ...off to me.”

Celestia was taller than Luna, and it was easy for her to catch up to her sister while still appearing graceful and majestic, as befit her station. “You had the guards sent away because one of them seemed off?”

“Esteem, I think his name was. He volunteered to be part of her escort despite the fact that the duty is far beneath his rank. It seemed strange.”

Esteem, Celestia thought, recalling everything she knew about the pony. “Hmm,” she said after a time, pursing her lips. “You’re right,” she said at last.

“I am?”

“Yes. Captain Esteem should not be anywhere near Twilight Sparkle, or her friends, at any point in time. Requesting to be on Twilight’s escort is a blatant subversion of my authority. I shall have to reprimand him.”

“What ever happened to being kind?”

Celestia stopped before the doorway to the dining hall and faced Luna. “Esteem is a soldier. He respects discipline. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“I don’t know, Celly,” Luna said to her quietly as Celestia opened the doors. “I spoke with him this afternoon. His soldiers are terrified of him, you can see it in their eyes. He is always so quiet, and controlled. He almost reminds me of-” Luna’s sentence trailed away and died as they both turned inward toward the dining hall.

The wooden tables and benches that normally stood in neat rows were scattered and broken, splinters littering the floor. Celestia could make out the bodies of three of her guards, lying unmoving in pools of blood on the stone floor. Another pool of blood sat in the center of the room, slightly smeared towards them. The dining hall had only two occupants, neither of whom was Twilight, or Esteem.

They were her parents.

Panic gripped Celestia, stronger than it had in over a thousand years. She felt her mouth fall open slightly, and she took an involuntary step back from the couple in the center of the room. Words failed her; all she could focus on was the fact that she didn’t have a plan. With Nightmare Moon and Discord, there had been a plan. She had worked to ensure that her enemies would not harm her kingdom, had assembled the Elements of Harmony. Now, however...

Her eyes fell upon the pool of blood in the center of the room once more. It wasn’t perfectly round; the fluid had been dragged towards them, almost as if somepony had struggled while they bled out.

She looked up at her father. “What have you done with Esteem?” she demanded, “and Twilight?” She deliberately said Twilight’s name second so as to make the unicorn seem less important. Hopefully, if the King had her, her importance would be overlooked.

King Titan was exactly as tall as Celestia, but much broader. His mane was a long, almost feminine flowing mass of bright white ether. His wings and coat were a matte black. He wore nothing, and his cutie mark was a simple white circle.

His face bore the expression of dispassion that Celestia remembered so well. His eyes were cold and distant, his mouth a thin line at the end of a square muzzle. He was handsome, in a way.

Since they were the same height, it was difficult to tell how much older than Celestia he really was. But if one looked closely, they would notice that the tips of his wings split into the same bright white ether that he had in place of a mane, and that his irises were a burning white as well. He had a certain stillness to him, as though he could stand in the hall forever, watching with disinterest as the stone walls crumbled around him and were overgrown.

Titan spoke in a fluid, resonant tone that seemed to demand attention despite not being particularly loud. “You forget,” he began, “our first rule. You never ask us questions, my daughter.

“I will, however, do you the service of answering the most obvious one.” He looked at Celestia.

“How?” she asked simply.

“I had help,” the older alicorn said. “You failed to fully bury the knowledge of our existence and our imprisonment. A unicorn of considerable talent was all it took to tip the scales and allow me to break our bonds. How you could have made such a grave oversight is beyond me, however. I taught you to be better than this.”

Celestia didn’t bother masking the disgust in her voice. “You taught me to be hateful, paranoid, and alone.”

Titan tilted his head slightly, as if confused. “I taught you to rule.”

He waved a hoof and began to pace the room. “Let’s not do this, Celestia. You could stand there and wax philosophical about what ponykind ‘deserves’ while I argue with you. Or I could scream and yell and stomp my feet, expressing my anger at you for imprisoning me in the first place. We could taunt one another and bring up painful memories from days long since past. I’m sure you could hint vaguely at all the plots you have in place for just this occasion. I don’t want to do any of these things. I don’t even want to fight you, though I suspect I will have to.

“Instead let us simply allow the events of tonight to unfold uninterrupted. You will fail to defeat me, and your former pupil will break you down into your component parts. I will use your power to create a son, whom I will appoint the new prince of Equestria. Luna will be captured and forced to be his lady wife, and I will begin reverting things to their natural order while he and his faithful student pacify the population.”

His faithful student. Celestia felt a chill. She turned to her mother.

Where the King looked upon them with disinterest, Queen Terra’s eyes were filled with hate. Her lips were pulled back in a sneer, her nostrils were flared. The expression was almost comical on the Queen, as her coat was a forest green and her mane a sunshine yellow. Celestia knew that Terra was much younger than Titan, and likely younger than herself, now.

Terra snarled. “Your precious student-”

Titan interrupted her. “Enough, Terra,” he said simply. “Tell them nothing.” Terra stopped talking immediately.

Her outburst had been enough, however. If Twilight was still alive, and working for Titan, it meant only one thing. Her most faithful student had been enslaved by the Sliver of Darkness.

“I must admit,” Titan continued, “That I was surprised to find you in power upon my return. With me gone, I can only imagine that Discord seized control of the world once more. How you managed to defeat a draconequus is beyond me. My old rival was not a force to be trifled with.”

“I also find it interesting that you have aged so little since I saw you last, Luna. It would seem that your old rivalry did not end with me out of the picture. A pity, considering if you were Celestia’s age the two of you might actually stand a chance of opposing me. As is, you are severely out-classed.”

Celestia grit her teeth. “There’s more to ruling than power, Titan.”

She needed to think. Her imminent death was no reason to shirk her duty: ensuring the safety of ponykind. Her opponents might have Twilight, and they might out-age her and her sister by a combined two and a half millenia, but that didn’t make the situation hopeless.

It just made the game they were playing a difficult one. Celestia made her first move:

“Run, Luna.”

She knew that Luna hated being ordered around by her - they were, after all, supposed to be equals. She also knew that her younger sister would much rather stay and fight, despite the impossible odds. A part of Celestia hoped, however, that in the face of such an unbeatable opponent, Luna would be able to swallow her pride and listen.

Fortunately, Luna ran, speeding out through the doorway they entered through and taking flight in the hallway.

Terra immediately turned to Titan. “Send me after her,” she begged. “I owe her.”

Titan looked at his wife, deciding. “Yes,” he said finally in his quiet, controlled voice. Terra flew off after the younger alicorn, leaving the two of them alone.

Celestia stood motionless, but in her mind she was thinking furiously.

A corrupted Twilight Sparkle, she thought. How can I anticipate the game plan of an opponent I’ve never even met? The answer was an obvious one. The Sliver will construct an anti-Twilight. So what do I know about Twilight Sparkle?

Titan stopped pacing and looked into her eyes. Even after over a thousand years, she had to suppress a shiver. “Surrender, Celestia,” he said simply. “I don’t want to put this off any longer. I will be king again.”

The princess of Equestria gave no answer, save but to conjure a brilliant blade of sunlight and level it at the older alicorn.

Twilight is studious and patient. Intelligent and curious. A little timid, but brave when it counts. She both respects and fears authority. She feels the need to rationalize all of her actions, and the actions of those around her. She has a close group of friends who also happen to bear the Elements of Harmony.

And you let them get her, another voice said accusingly in the back of head.

Celestia flattened the emotion of guilt almost instantly. Nearly eleven hundred years of life had given her a mind of steel.

Outside of her thought process, Titan regarded her incandescent blade lazily. Faced with what was until moments before the most powerful pony in Equestria, he maintained his dispassionate composure. “I see,” he said simply.

Celestia let him take his time. An anti-Twilight, then, would be what? Her answer almost made her sick. She’d be completely insane. Unpredictable. An impatient, sadistic monster with more power than any other unicorn in the kingdom. A perfect ten on the Coruscare scale. And Twilight is trapped inside of her.

Celestia had to save her student. She also had to save her sister. In the long run, she had to save all of Equestria. She estimated she had less than two minutes to live.

She worked a thought-speak spell and sent it after her younger sister. It was a powerful spell, and it would be extremely illegal for a regular unicorn. Celestia, however, was past worrying about breaking her own rules. She had to save Luna.

The spell connected in a moment, allowing her to send thoughts to her younger sister.

“Listen carefully, Luna,” she told the other princess through their mind link. “Terra is coming after you. You need to fly low and make for Ponyville. Find the Elements.”

She turned to face the would-be king, alone. She wasn’t afraid, really. The first rule of being able to live forever was that you would still, someday, die.

Titan cast his own blade, a slim length of darkness. It didn’t glow, or burn, or waver. In fact, it almost looked solid for something made entirely of energy. The blade was a perfect representation of the king: total control. Celestia waited for him to attack first. Every moment he delayed was one that she could spend planning.

Using her powerful mental discipline, she split her mind three ways. She had never been sure if the technique was magical or not. After a thousand years of practice, however, the princess’s mind was capable of amazing things. The first of her minds would fight Titan, while the second would handle helping Luna to escape. The third needed to figure out how to guarantee the protection of the Elements of Harmony.

Those six ponies were their only hope. Sadly, their leader had already fallen.

An anti-Twilight would be unpredictable, yes. Her actions would not be completely random, however. She would hate Twilight’s loved ones with a burning passion.She would be power hungry. Most importantly, she would have no respect for authority, no loyalty, and no fear.

Titan attacked, accelerating through the sound barrier less than halfway through his lunge. Celestia was thrown backward into the surrounding rubble as she barely managed to deflect his blade.

The princess knew Twilight as well as anypony. Which meant she also knew her student’s shadow. Celestia imagined a game board taking shape in her mind. While the anti-Twilight might not know it, she had just become a piece. The game was far from over.

She was vaguely aware of her other minds: the first was now fighting Titan, and despite its cautiousness, losing. The second was speaking with Luna through her spell. The two would occasionally communicate, but left the third mind to its machinations. The Elements of Harmony were more important than everything else.

Titan doesn’t know about the Elements of Harmony, she thought. Neither does Terra, and nor will their son. But Twilight- or rather, anti-Twilight- will. It is a safe assumption, then, that with her lust for power and disregard for her superiors, she’ll seek to use the Elements against them. I need to give her that opportunity.

Her thoughts stuttered slightly as King Titan threw them through a solid stone wall. She had hoped for more time to plan, but it seemed that even fighting cautiously their battle would be a short one. Celestia still had things to do, however.

She communicated briefly with the part of her that was fighting Titan. That Celestia needed to ensure that the Tower of Harmony was destroyed. Titan could not know of the existence of the Elements, and the anti-Twilight would need to know he didn’t know. Destroying the tower would give her the opening she would need to retrieve them.

The part of her fighting Titan answered in the affirmative, but warned against being too obvious. Since Celestia was so much weaker than the king, her only hope would be to strike fast and defeat him quickly. Since she wasn’t doing that, it would be obvious to him that she was biding time for something else.

Her second consciousness chimed in, offering an easy solution. She would make it appear as though all her effort was focused on protecting Luna. Indeed, at that moment, Luna was in serious danger.

The Celestia fighting Titan manoeuvred in the air so as to put Titan in between her and her sister’s adversaries. Then, she launched a stream of sunlight at the older alicorn. He dodged, but Terra, several thousand metres away, was struck. The part of Celestia that was dealing with Luna expressed satisfaction.

Despite her attempt at subtlety, Titan would likely figure out what she had done. Celestia was fine with that, however. In reality, the move had been to cover up her true intentions. The king might expect her to hide a play behind another play, but she doubted he would look deeper.

Celestia manoeuvred in the air again, this time giving Titan an extremely small opening. He attacked, throwing her through another building with so much force that it broke the focus of all three of her minds at once.

When she collected her thoughts a moment later, however, she found herself in the exact structure she had intended Titan to throw her into: the palace library.

The corrupted Twilight - now the princess’ most important piece- would have a hatred for her friends as deep and voluminous as Twilight had had love. It would be difficult, then, to prevent the corrupted unicorn from murdering them. Fortunately, Celestia had just the thing.

You need to grab a certain book, her third consciousness told the part of her mind that was in control. It’s there, under magical theory. You need to move it to the section concerning the black arts, war magic, and mind magic. Place it on the ground, in clear view, open to this page. Ensure Titan does not destroy these shelves.

Even if the anti-Twilight didn’t decide to betray her masters on her own, the page that the book was open to would likely plant the idea in her mind. In order to gain the firepower necessary to defeat princess Luna, the corrupted student would need the books on the surrounding shelves. Celestia was, hopefully, ensuring that her “enemy” picked up exactly the book that would tell her how to harness the power of the Elements of Harmony.

She knew that Twilight would instantly be suspicious of a book on the ground conveniently open to just the page she needed, which was enough reason to believe that anti-Twilight would take the bait. Once she did, the book would tell her how to harness the Elements of Harmony from their current bearers. It was a process that did not involve killing them. Twilight’s friends, five of Celestia’s essential pieces, would be safe from the corrupted Twilight.

Of course, that was only if she could get the book where it needed to go.

You need to get it there fast, her second mind added, Luna will need our help again very soon.

Thankfully, the part of Celestia fighting Titan delivered. As the king came in to land another blow, Celestia threw herself to the side, throwing a nearby bookcase at him. Titan knocked the bookcase out of the air with ease, but with eleven hundred years of experience manipulating objects, Celestia plucked the book she needed from the shelf.

She rolled in to attack him from the other side, causing him to turn to face away from the book she now held. He easily thwarted her assault- he was three times as strong as her, and a better bladecaster besides. But while he did, she found the page she needed.

She threw herself into the air, careful to trace in her mind the most likely path he would take to follow her. As he shot up after her and out of the library, she slid the book into position, page open.

Then, she dived, and when their positions were in the right alignment, she attacked with another long-range beam of sunlight. While Titan dodged her assault with ease, the king had not been her mark. On the other side of the city, Terra was crushed under several tons of falling stones.

Satisfied that Luna was safe, the part of her mind dedicated to protecting her fused back into the whole. Now Celestia had only two tasks, and two minds to complete them. Delay Titan, and ensure that the Elements of Harmony were properly positioned on her game board.

Luna was safe, however. In her mind, her sister’s piece slid across the game board and into position.

Titan clearly realized that the spell had been aimed at Terra. He did not look pleased.

Celestia moved, goading his next attack. He would hit her hard, likely with enough strength to finish her. She was almost prepared to lose, finally. She just needed him to hit her in the right direction...

He struck.

Celestia was thrown through the air. Not for the first time, she broke the sound barrier and burst through another section of the palace.

Specifically, she was thrown through the Tower of Harmony.

She struck out with her own magic as she exploded through the tower, encouraging its destruction with subtle telekinesis. The tower collapsed, but the force of Titan’s throw brought her through both tower walls, causing her to land on the grass some distance away.

Celestia looked at the ruins of the Tower of Harmony as Titan descended next to her. Somewhere in the rubble, unbeknownst to the older alicorn, was a chest containing the one weapon that could defeat him. And his own servant, the anti-Twilight, was going to bring it to the only ponies who could use it against him. Satisfied, her consciousness slid anti-Twilight’s piece into position, then merged into the whole.

Celestia lay helpless on the ground next to Titan, feeling unbearable pain. The pain was why she had had to split her mind in the first place. She needed to focus to give ponykind a fighting chance in her absence. Now, as she was brought out of her partitioned mind and into the real world, she found herself completely drained of power as Titan stood over her. The fight had hardly lasted a minute.

She was, of course, just another piece. Titan had moved to take her, and in doing so he had allowed Luna to escape. Luna would be strong enough to protect the Element bearers until the corrupted Twilight learned war magic. When she did, however, she herself would be compelled to refrain from killing the Element bearers, giving them the room they needed to fulfill their purpose.

Titan had said he would leave the kingdom with a son. The newborn son he spoke of would apparently have all of her power- but even if he did, he would be no match for the Elements of Harmony. The princess had agents of her own within Canterlot, contingencies that would keep the prince busy at least long enough to ensure the Twilight and her friends fulfilled their purpose. His actions, too, would be dictated by Celestia long after her death.

With Celestia taken out of the game, the king would believe that the only threat to him would be Terra herself. He would return to his works, and restore the natural order. While he did so, he would keep Terra close, where he could watch her and be certain the other alicorn did not plot against him.

Titan raised his blade, and in her mind, Celestia moved his piece and Terra’s off the board. She was careful not to betray her happiness at one particular observation:

Every remaining piece in play was hers.

“Terra is coming after you. You need to fly low and make for Ponyville. Find the Elements.”

Luna sped out and away from the palace grounds, flapping her wings once to clear a rooftop, then dove back down into the streets. Even as a relatively young alicorn, she was a world-class flyer, but that would mean little when trying to outrun Terra. From behind her, an incandescent flash of white light lit up the world, and she heard a thunderous crack.

“And what about thou, Tia?” Even through thought-speak, she sounded panicked. “Thou canst not hope to defeat him! Not every pony in Canterlot could defeat him! Flee!” She tilted her wings, causing herself to do a barrel roll midair, and searched the sky for the other alicorn. Terra was nowhere to be seen. Luna continued flying through the streets. Her only chance of escaping was if Terra didn’t see her. She needed to head to the city gates.

“I know, sister,” Celestia’s voice sounded sad inside her head. “But I have a plan. I need you to send me what you see.”

Luna let her sister’s spell widen, so that Celestia could see through her eyes. It would be too much information for her sister to keep track of in a fight, and the younger sister wondered how Celestia planned to survive.

Another burst of light followed by a wave of sound came from the direction of the palace.

Celestia’s voice sounded again shortly afterward. Even thought-speaking, it was terse and strained. “Terra stopped and made several pegasi out of nothing. Black coats, blue manes. I’ll help you fight them. Turn left.”

Luna spread her wings to slow herself midair as she veered toward an alleyway on her left. She didn’t slow herself fast enough, and she impacted the side of a building, hard. Being an alicorn granted her earthpony strength and resilience, however, and she simply pushed off of the building wall with her legs and beat her wings to regain her course. Behind her, she saw a black form trailing blue blur past along the road she had been travelling. So fast, she thought, I had forgotten Terra’s creatures could be so potent. She turned down another alleyway, and came face to face with one of the puppet pegasi for the first time.

It was obvious at first glance that it wasn’t a normal pony. Its coat was was black, a color not natural among ponykind. Its mane was a blue so light and vibrant it almost seemed to glow. The creature’s eyes were the same shade of blue, with no pupil. It grunted mist out of its nostrils, obviously not intending to let her pass.

But it was a pegasus, and Luna was an alicorn. She didn’t slow down and she sped through the alleyway, and cast a spell she had learned as Nightmare Moon to strike it with a bolt of lightning from her horn. She expected the construct would simply dissipate.

The pegasus dispersed into an inky cloud of black smoke, and Luna flew through it unharmed. She propelled herself upward over another rooftop, doing another barrel roll and scanning the sky.

This time she saw Terra. The other alicorn was perhaps three hundred metres away from her, hovering high in the air and surrounded by perhaps a half dozen of her pegasi. The tiny green figure saw her too, and lunged.

Suddenly the world became so bright it might have been daytime. Luna flinched, but not before seeing a stream of white-hot sunlight cut through Terra and two of her pegasi. The incandescent beam was extinguished an instant later as another loud boom came from the palace.

“The West gate, Luna! Go!” Her sister’s voice sounded frantically inside her head. “That won’t slow her down for long!”

Luna was shocked that Celestia’s spell had packed so much punch. Celestia was even stronger now than she had thought.

Luna pumped her wings furiously and dove back down into a street. It was a busy street during the day, and was now filled with panicking ponies. They looked up as she passed, obviously confused as to why their princess would be speeding down a main street so late at night. Now they notice me, Luna thought glumly.

Another flash from the palace. Another ripple of concussive force.

Luna flipped in midair again and saw two of the pegasi gaining on her before turning back around. She levitated a nearby signpost out of the ground with her magic, then swung it around toward her pursuers. One of the pegasi banked in time to avoid the steel signpost. The other did not. She hadn’t swung the post very hard, but the pegasus’ momentum was enough to cave its skull in around the metal pole. It poofed into another cloud of smoke.

She dropped the pole and banked sharply into the remaining pegasus. They collided, and she grabbed his wing and used earthpony strength to bring the flailing pegasus in front of her, angling the two of them into the corner of a nearby bookstore.

The bookstore was made of wood, and the walls were simply not strong enough to withstand both of their weights moving through the air at such high speeds. The corner of the store burst into splinters as she carried them through it. She dropped the puppet’s limp form to the road below them. It might not die, but it wasn’t picking up the chase any time soon.

The impact with the wall had shaken her, and shards of wood were lodged in her wings and hooves, but her earthpony resilience was more than enough to handle the damage. She shook herself once and cleared her head.

She veered back down the street toward the city gates. Canterlot was not a large city, and she was closing the distance to the gate fast. Hopefully, Celestia was also almost out of the city by now. Another loud crack from the palace dashed her hopes.

Only feet from the gate, Terra attacked.

Luna felt an invisible force crush her to the ground, and her field of vision went white with pain as she struck the ground just inside the gate.

“Keep going, Luna”, her sister’s voice said weakly inside her head.

Terra landed in front of her with her remaining pegasi. “Luna!” The other alicorn’s voice betrayed her excitement. “What did you plan to do after you got out of the city? Outrun me? There’s no place you can go where I won’t find you, child.”

Luna pushed against the floor with her legs, sliding herself further under the massive stone archway that was the western gate.

“A little further sister. You’re going to need to hit her with everything you have.”

Terra continued. “As much as I would love to tear your pretty little head off its shoulders, Titan wants you alive and well.”

Suddenly, Luna realized what her sister’s “plan” was. Celestia wasn’t going to escape. She was just distracting Titan. Her sister intended to lose.

She dragged herself further under the western gate of Canterlot, trying to make herself look as pathetic as possible. She mentally readied a huge portion of her magical power, but it was far too little to actually kill Terra...

“I don’t see why you are so reluctant, Luna. You’re going to be married! Isn’t that wonderful news?” The other alicorn stepped towards her and smiled.

Luna attacked. “Tia, now!” Her spell was a blinding bolt of moonlight that zipped through the air and struck Terra in the chest. The other alicorn screamed. Luna immediately felt exhausted from the expenditure of magical energy.

At the same time as Luna struck Terra, another blinding stream of Celestia’s concentrated sunlight struck the western gate of Canterlot, causing tons of stone to collapse.

Luna flapped her wings, taking to the air and gaining the speed necessary to avoid the falling archway and exit Canterlot. Terra, however, was not nearly so lucky. The other alicorn, stunned momentarily by Luna’s spell, was crushed under massive blocks of stone along with her puppets.

Luna found herself standing on the grass just outside the city walls. “Celestia,” she thought to her sister. There was no answer. “Celestia!” Her sisters reply came soft and faint.

“Luna. Are you safe?”

“I am, now get out-”

From the direction of the palace, there was another flash of light, followed by a slow crack.

-

Chapter 2: My Name is Nihilus

Need to contact me for any reason? aestheticbrony@gmail.com!

My Name Is Nihilus

My Name is Nihilus

The deep thumping of Ponyville’s only dance club filled Rainbow Dash’s ears as she threw herself onto the ground in front of their table. Colorful lights flashed on and off above them, each outlining the silhouettes of dancing ponies for an instant before vanishing. Applejack took a seat beside Dash, and Fluttershy and Rarity sat delicately on the floor across from them. Pinkie Pie remained standing, bouncing in place as she addressed her friends.

“Now!” The party pony spoke loudly to be heard over the pumping music of the dance club. “Everypony know tonight’s objective?”

The friends seated at the table exchanged confused glances, struggling to figure out what the pink-haired pony expected in answer. Pinkie was unpredictable, but tended to follow a single constant: “To party?” Rainbow Dash hazarded a guess.

“No, silly filly!” Pinkie pie exclaimed. “To have fun!” With that, she stood on her back legs, throwing a shower of confetti into the air. “Just because Twilight is off having some midnight picnic with the princesses in Canterlot doesn’t mean the five of us can’t have a perfectly good time here in Ponyville the way we usually do! I mean, five out of six ponies is still, like, five halves the fun that four out of twelve ponies is, right?” She frowned, considering her last sentence for a moment, then shook her head. “In any case, drinks on me!” Before any of the friends at the table could express their appreciation, the pink pony had cartwheeled off toward the dance floor.

None of the group sitting at the table gave her outburst more than a raised eyebrow. For Pinkie Pie, it had been almost mild.

“What do you think they talk about up at the palace, anyway?” Rainbow Dash wondered aloud. “Doesn’t Twilight write to Celestia, like, every day?”

“Princess Celestia, Rainbow Dash,” Rarity corrected her. “The title is important. And being arguably the three most magical beings in all of Equestria I would think that magic comprises a great deal of their conversation, wouldn’t you? Or perhaps they will discuss the accident that happened last week.”

“Er...” Applejack started, obviously confused, “what accident?”

“Oh Applejack,” Rarity gasped dramatically, “hadn’t you heard?” The earthpony gave Rarity a blank stare. “Honestly, anypony who is anypony knows by now. Though I suppose you wouldn’t be as ‘In the know’ as a pony such as myself. I do have a number of -shall we say- connections-”

“Just tell us what happened, Rarity,” Rainbow Dash interrupted her, obviously as confused as Applejack.

“Well if you’re going to be so rude about it, I don’t see why I should tell you two anything.” The unicorn turned up her snout and sniffed.

“See if I care.” Rainbow Dash turned to Applejack, completely ignoring Rarity. “So today I was breaking a cloud, right, and this other pegasus struts up like she thinks she can-”

“Alright, fine!” Rarity’s shrill voice cut Dash off. “Somepony went crazy and attacked the princess! There!”

Rainbow Dash and Applejack both turned back to the unicorn. Dash was, if anything, even more confused. “So you’re saying that somepony was actually dumb enough to try and kill Princess Luna? I mean I know there was the whole Nightmare Moon thing, but-”

“-Not Princess Luna, Princess Celestia,” Rarity corrected, leaning in and whispering in a conspiratorial tone, her grudge seemingly forgotten. “In the middle of her throne room, while she was holding court. They failed, obviously. In any case, her assailant wore a grey cloak, and wearing the color has become a major faux pas. The entire aristocracy has to reorder their summer wardrobe.”

“Celestia had the entire thing under control in moments, of course,” Rarity continued, “Though I have heard rumors- and these are totally unvalidated, mind you- that in order to catch all the culprits she used mind magic on her assailant.”

“Alicorns can read minds?” Dash said, “You mean now I have to watch what I think around the princesses?”

“Thinkin’ something you shouldn’t be, sugarcube?”

“No!” Dash said defensively. “It’s just nopony’s business what I’m thinking, is all!”

Rarity scoffed. “It’s unicorn magic, actually, though totally forbidden. And there are spells that do far worse than simply read a mind. Don’t worry though,” she added quickly upon seeing Dash’s expression, “I imagine Celestia and Luna are the only two people who how to perform any.”

Rarity went on in her silvery voice. “I hear the princess was absolutely furious. She actually cast her blade.” The unicorn looked around at three ponies sitting at the table, obviously expecting some kind of reaction. Nopony gave one.

“Oh, come now! at least one of you must know what I’m talking about! Fluttershy?” She turned to the pink haired pegasus and was rewarded with an apologetic shrug. Rarity groaned and began to talk as though she was teaching schoolfillies how to add two and two. “Unicorn warriors throughout the ages have been known for spells that summon elegant and terrifying weapons based on their one special talent. Princess Celestia’s is a shaft of sunlight so hot it can burn through anything and so bright it would blind you to look at it. I’m sure Twilight has pictures she can show you in one of those books of hers.”

“Swords!?” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, eyes wide. “That sounds so cool! Can you do it?”

She gave a high pitched laugh. “Of course not, darling, I’m a fashion designer! I said warrior ponies. Ponies like Sir Enamorous, the dragon slayer, or Sir Radiant Shimmer, the undefeatable jouster!”

Rarity’s eyes stared off into the distance and she smiled dreamily. “Or Sir Fernando,” she said, clearly lost in thought. “The extremely attractive...”

Applejack and Rainbow Dash snickered. “Sounds like a real fine stallion there, Rarity.”

Rarity saw the looks the three ponies at the table were giving her and regained her composure. She cleared her throat. “But that’s enough courtly gossip for one night, don’t you think? Let’s dance, Fluttershy.” She stood up and turned to face the pegasus.

Fluttershy looked down and sank a little in her seat. “Oh I don’t know, Rarity. With all these ponies here, watching. Maybe you could just-”

“You don’t want to dance with me?” Rarity’s lower lip quivered as her eyes went wide.

“Uh... no! that’s not what I meant at all! I mean, um, of course I’ll dance with you... yeah... yeah I’ll dance.” Rarity led Fluttershy away with a hoof on her shoulder.

“Ya ever think that Rarity isn’t being a very... good pony when she pulls Fluttershy around like that?” Applejack asked after they had left.

Since Rarity wasn’t around to complain, Rainbow Dash propped her back legs up on the table. “That girl should learn to at least stand up to her friends.”

As they spoke, shock of bright pink hair appeared in the top of Rainbow’s field of vision. She looked up, and found Pinkie Pie leaning out of the booth one over from theirs, her face just several inches from Dash’s. She had been dancing, and her face was covered in sweat.

“Dashie!” she shouted, causing Rainbow Dash to recoil and hit her head off of the floor.

“AUGH! You could just, you know, sit down if you wanted to talk to us.”

“Sitting is for chumps! You guys gonna come dance? Look how much fun they’re having!”

Dash looked towards the dance floor and easily spotted Fluttershy and Rarity. They were both engaged in some kind of complex dance that complimented their natural grace. Fluttershy had her wings folded despite the heat. Rarity’s horn was glowing, the unicorn using magic to make their manes sway and billow with the beat.

“You know what seeing them two dancing like that makes me wonder?” Applejack asked.

It was Pinkie who answered. “What?”

“How much Rarity has to practice to use magic like that and dance at the same time. Makes me glad my magic is innate.”

“Me too.” Rainbow Dash agreed. “But you know what I wonder?”

“What?” Pinkie again. The music suddenly died as the DJ switched over to another track.

“Isn’t Fluttershy hot dancing with her wings folded?” Dash said loudly to complete silence.

Everybody in the club looked over at her. Fluttershy’s face burned furiously. The only thing that broke the silence was Pinkie Pie’s loud guffaw.

“Oh, hay,” Dash cursed under her breath. She spoke louder, scratching the back of her head. “I meant, like, warm, you know, dancing, in the heat, like-”

Applejack sighed and upended her drink with her mouth, downing it in one gulp. Everyone turned back to their conversations as the music picked up again. “Come on sugar-cube, let’s just go dance.”

It was several hours before the group of friends all exited the club into the warm summer night air. Rarity and Fluttershy were chatting about feathered hats, and Dash and Pinkie were talking about seeing a movie.

“I’m not put off by gore or anything, I can handle all of that easily,” Dash lied, “I just think it looks like a stupid movie, is all.”

“Okey-Dokey-Lokey!” Pinkie chirped. “We don’t have to see that one if you don’t want. We’ll just see something else! How about that one where the unicorn messes up a teleportation spell and all his friends end up in-” She stopped suddenly.

The world had changed.

All the hairs on Rainbow Dash’s neck stood up immediately, and she got the overwhelming feeling that she was being watched. She felt as though a siren had gone off inside her head, warning her that everypony was suddenly in danger. Adrenaline coursed through her bloodstream, and with a single beat of her wings, she threw herself a dozen feet into the air. She spun around, searching for whatever it was that had set her off.

The street was quiet and empty except for them. Nothing was any different.

But it was. Rarity spun in place, eyes alert, and Applejack was looking around with one hoof on her hat. Fluttershy had leapt into a nearby bush, her eyes blinking out the world fearfully. Pinkie Pie had stopped talking mid sentence, which was a strange enough reaction for Pinkie Pie. They had all felt it too.

“What in the hay...” Applejack muttered after a moment.

Suddenly there was a flash in the sky, followed shortly by a deep rumbling.

“I love lightning!” Pinkie Pie cheered. “Did you know you can figure out how far away it is by counting the seconds between the flash and the noise?”

The sky flashed again.

“Ooooooone... twooooooo...”

“It’s coming from Canterlot,” Rarity said quietly

Dash looked, and sure enough she saw the flash originate somewhere near the palace. The boom sounded again. It was a long, deep, and loud sound, never cracking or changing in pitch.

“And it isn’t lightning,” Rainbow Dash added, “the sound is slightly off.”

“Must be princess Luna or princess Celestia,” Rarity said the words with a hint of unease “Some kind of... late night fireworks, perhaps?”

They sky flashed again. And again, and again. All Rainbow Dash could do, all any of them could do, was stand there feeling uneasy. Twilight is with both the alicorns, Rainbow thought, they can protect her from anything. Besides, it’s probably nothing dangerous anyway.

Almost a whole minute passed before the strange flashes stopped. Applejack spoke first.

“Ah don’t like this one bit. Maybe we should have Rainbow fly over there in the mornin’, just to see if they’re alright.”

“Um, you guys...” Fluttershy had come out of her bush.

“I agree completely, Applejack,” Rarity answered, “Something here just doesn’t quite add up.”

“I think you should all take a look at this...”

Dash landed and crossed her arms. “Why are you all acting so worried? Twilight is more than capable of defending herself, remember how she smoked that Ursa Minor?!”

“Because, you see, the thing is-”

“-And that’s if she didn’t have both of the alicorns with her, which she totally does.”

“The moon is red,” Fluttershy finished quietly.

Every one of them turned to Fluttershy, then looked up at the tiny sliver of moon in the sky. The pegasus had not exaggerated; it had somehow turned a deep crimson.

“Well that’s odd,” Rarity said after a while.

“Yeah! Usually the moon is white!”

“No, Pinkie,” Rarity answered, her voice taking on a strange tone. It almost sounded as though she was sad. “I meant it’s odd that the princess would do that. It’s a sign, you see- one that’s almost been forgotten because it’s never had to have been used. It’s as old as Equestria.” She resumed looking up at the moon.

“Well?” Dash eventually asked, impatient, “what does it mean?”

The unicorn drew a long breath. “It means,” she said, closing her eyes, “Equestria is now at war.”

It was a short while later that Rainbow Dash arrived at home. It was late enough that she should be in bed. The events of the night however, nagged at her.

At war, she thought, is it even possible? Equestria has no enemies. Equestria doesn’t even have equals. Was Rarity wrong? She does tend to be a little over-dramatic about, well, everything. And knowing something that old and obscure is Twilight’s thing.

Twilight. Somewhere in Canterlot, Twilight was with the princesses who had quite possibly just declared war on some unknown enemy. And the others expected Rainbow Dash to just wait until tomorrow to check in. It wasn’t right for them to just sit around while their friend could be in danger.

This was a time for action, she decided.

A midnight flight to canterlot and back was well within her capabilities, even if she was tired and a little tipsy from alcohol. She hastily packed a saddlebag, passing herself in the mirror she kept in her room.

Lookin’ good, she thought with a nod. I wonder how I’d look with goggles... I should ask Rarity about getting a pair. At the very least, I’d look more like a Wonderbolt. She shook her head and brought herself to focus on the task at hand. The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I get some well-deserved sleep. She glided down the stairs and went to open her front door.

“Going somewhere in a hurry?” said a familiar voice.

In an instant, Dash’s fatigue was dispelled as she felt adrenaline course through her veins. She turned, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up once more, to face-

“Twilight? How did you get up here?” she asked.

The unicorn sat at Dash’s kitchen table. “Magic,” she answered with a wink. “How else?”

“You have no idea how relieved I am to see you,” Dash leaned against the door and let herself sag down to the floor. “We saw flashes of something that wasn’t lightning over Canterlot, and then the moon turned red, which Rarity said meant that Equestria was at war. And we started to worry about whether or not you were alright, and everyone wanted to just send me to check up in the morning, but I decided I’d go check things out now instead. But, I guess now that you’re back, I don’t need to, right?”

“Wait, why are you back?” Rainbow Dash was speaking the words as she thought them. “You aren’t supposed to come home until tomorrow morning. Did something bad happen? Is Celestia alright? Why did Luna turn the moon red?”

Twilight was silent, so Rainbow Dash continued.

“What were those flashes over Canterlot? And why are you in my house so late? It’s polite to knock, you know!”

Twilight raised a hoof to silence her, and began to speak. “Your instincts are right, as usual, Rainbow Dash, something is wrong, and I... I...” She seemed to have trouble with the words. “I need your help,” she said finally.

“Hey Twilight, you know you can count on me. I’m the most dependable pony around!”

“I know, Rainbow Dash, which is why I came to you. You see, I’m going to give you something, something magical, and it’s going to try to hurt you. You need to accept it for me. It won’t really hurt you, of course, I would never do that. But it’s going to feel really unpleasant at first.”

“Accept it? what do you mean, accept it? Twi-”

“I can explain everything once it’s done, Dash, it’ll only take a couple of seconds, and then we can go get everypony else.” She got up from the table and moved towards Dash, who stood up and eyed her suspiciously. “Now are you with me, or not, Dash?”

“I...” her voice was filled with hesitation. The night was getting stranger and stranger, but Dash knew that she could count on Twilight to make sense of everything. Plus, if she backed down she’d seem like a sissy. Rainbow Dash was not a sissy. “Alright,” she said. “Do it.”

Twilight leaned forward and closed her eyes, focusing. After a short time, her horn began to emit a glow and a dark blob began to appear at its tip. She placed her horn just in front of Dash’s chest.

“Alright,” she said, sounding slightly excited, “are you ready?”

“I guess so. Just, do whatever it is you’re going to do quickly, okay?”

“Oh don’t worry, this will be over in seconds.” She moved her horn forward so that it touched Dash’s chest.

Immediately, the formless darkness began to take shape, sprouting writhing tendrils that crept over the surface of Rainbow Dash’s coat. A tendril sunk through the fur and she felt it touch her skin. It felt... wrong. It was cold and nauseating and somehow felt purely malicious. Dash pulled away, and the tendrils withdrew to the orb of blackness on Twilight’s horn.

“I can’t!” she said quickly, “I’m sorry Twilight, but it’s just so wrong. Can’t you feel it?”

Twilight looked down, “I know it feels bad at first, Dash, but you have to trust me. I came to you because you’re the Element of Loyalty, Dash, and the toughest person I know. I know it isn’t fair for me to ask you to do this for me when you don’t even know what you’re doing. I’m sorry I asked you, though. I’m sorry for wasting your time.” She moved to leave.

Rainbow Dash felt ashamed. “Twilight, I...” The unicorn looked up. “I’ll do it,” Dash finished.

Twilight perked up. “You have no idea how much this means to me, Rainbow Dash. I know it feels bad, but just, maybe try thinking about something else.” She placed her horn against Rainbow Dash’s chest again.

The tendrils once again began to crawl across her chest, spreading over her coat and then plunging through it and into her skin. The horrible feeling returned, and Rainbow Dash thought of the happiest feeling she knew: flying. Air under my wings, she thought, wind whipping through hair.

More and more tendrils found their way under and through skin, and the feeling of wrongness intensified. It was like the spell wanted to hurt her. It made her stomach turn.

Breaking through a cloud and getting showered with misty rainwater, doing a back flip and watching the whole world turn upside down. Passing another flyer to win a race.

The tendrils had now reached her neck and flank, and were creeping around to her back. They felt cold almost, and slimy, like worms trying to burrow under her skin. All the while she could feel the spell’s presence, wanting to hurt her, to kill her. She couldn’t stand it any longer. She pulled away.

This time, the spell did not withdraw.

“Twilight!” Dash called frantically, clawing at the darkness that had spread all over her chest. “Stop it!” She manage to pull some of the spell away from herself . Where it had touched, her fur had turned black. “Twilight!” she cried. The tendrils that had come off were now spreading across her hooves. “Help me!”

The unicorn smiled. “Twilight?” She said, her voice becoming sinuous and low. “The neurotic little student girl who spends her time learning about friendship despite the fact that she’s one of the most powerful beings in Equestria?

Realization dawned too late. “You aren’t her,” she said, terrified.

The unicorn positively grinned.

Dash propelled herself forward, straight into the unicorn’s chest. She slammed the unicorn backwards, onto the kitchen table, and wrapped her forelegs around her neck. “Where is she?!” she screamed. The darkness had worked it’s way up to her forelegs and was almost at her jaw.

In a very Twilightesque facial expression, the unicorn raised an eyebrow.

The air sizzled and flashed, and suddenly Rainbow Dash was pinned the surface of the table by an unseen force. The mare-who-was-not-Twilight sat atop her, straddling her belly. She leaned down, placing her head beside Dash’s and whispered in her ear.

“I was counting on you to be too stupid to realize that little fact before it was too late, and lo and behold, you did not fail to disappoint.” She slowly drew her horn down along Dash’s neck and brought the point to rest directly against the center of her chest. “No, you imbecilic little fool.” Her voice had become a hiss.

“I am not Twilight Sparkle.”

Rainbow Dash tried to move her arms, her legs, her wings, but they were all held back by the unicorn’s incredibly strong magic. The tiny magical strands of darkness had converged, covering her entire body up to her neck. The nausea was overwhelming. She whimpered.

There was an earsplitting crack from the unicorn’s horn, and Rainbow Dash was thrown to the ground as the table exploded beneath her. The darkness was forcing its way into her mouth, and was still rendered helpless by the not-Twilight’s magic. She couldn’t help herself: she threw up, soaking the floor beside her with vomit.

“Oh, Twilight is in here,” somehow the unicorn was now standing over Rainbow Dash despite having just been on the table. “She’s screaming and sobbing to get out, to help you, as she watches through her own eyes while we suffer upon you a fate worse than death. I don’t even think she made this much noise when we murdered her beloved mentor. Why don’t you say hello, Rainbow Dash?”

The spell was worming its way into Rainbow Dash’s ears now, and covering her eyes with darkness. She tried to scream but the sound that came out was muffled and weak. There was only blackness...

Dash awoke on her kitchen floor surrounded by splinters, her head resting in a cold pool of her own vomit. A low buzzing noise seemed to come from inside her head, and her skin felt itchy. She noticed immediately that her coat had turned black, and her mane a dark grey. It must have been the spell.

The spell! she sat up suddenly. The unicorn was sitting close by on her kitchen floor.

“You blacked out for a bit there,” she said, examining a hoof.

Dash considered attacking the unicorn again, but thought against it. She felt so weak, and not-Twilight had crushed her before. Not to mention that if the unicorn was to be believed, Twilight was still in there somewhere.

“We’re going to try this again, Dash,” the unicorn said. “Say hello to Twilight.” The last sentence was spoken as a command.

Immediately the slight buzzing noise grew louder, and she found herself unable to think straight. It was as though a thousand parasprites were swarming around inside her head. It felt as though insects were crawling under her skin. She tried to remember what she had been doing, where she was, but her vision blurred and swam. Say hello, the buzzing noise wanted her to just say it. Hello, Twilight, it grew louder, more insistent.

Her back arched as the crawling sensation grew unbearable. Rainbow Dash tried to remember who Twilight was, but couldn't. She could hardly even remember her own name, let alone some stranger. Her entire mind clung to one thought, one purpose:

“Hello, Twilight,” she managed weakly.

Instantly the room snapped into focus around her, and the noise vanished.

I did it. Dash thought, I gave in. “Your spell,” she said quietly, “It makes me do what you want?”

Not-Twilight stood and circled Dash, then leaned in to whisper in her ear. “You fail to appreciate the true genius of it, Rainbow Dash.” Dash felt magic grip her shoulder. “You see, every second you disobey one of my instructions, my spell is going to take a small piece of your sanity.” Another bit of magic gripped Dash’s mane and turned her to face the unicorn. “And eat it.”

Her face was only inches away from Rainbow Dash’s. The pegasus wondered how she could have ever mistaken this unicorn for Twilight. She had her face, and her voice, but her eyes were filled with hatred and insanity. The unicorn spoke again, her voice sharp and biting, “Eventually it will force you to obey, and when that happens, you will become perfectly sane again.”

She jerked Rainbow Dash by her mane. “Do you not see the beauty of it, my pet? You will stumble along through insanity, lost and confused. And you will only truly be Rainbow Dash after you have surrendered your free will and done my bidding. You will experience moments of clarity only after you have succumbed and committed the most horrible atrocities, and you will spend those moments grieving for the innocent lives I will have you destroy. Your only escape will be to become a monster of your own volition.”

“Listen closely, pet.” the unicorn stood over her now. “You will cease to think of yourself as Rainbow Dash, and will no longer answer to that name. You will not take your own life.”

No. You can’t take my name. Rainbow Dash thought. The buzzing noise grew louder.

“You will not think of harming or hindering me in any way. You will do everything in your power to advance my goals as you see them. You will not try to circumvent any of my orders.”

No! Her skin began to itch.

“You will be cruel to others. You will show no compassion, and a day from now you will beat Pinkamena Diane Pie to within an inch of her life.”

A tear made its way down Rainbow Dash’s face. “Twilight...” she whispered.

“You will not call me Twilight. My name is Nihilus.”

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

Nihilus turned and regarded the pegasus with a look of amusement. The buzzing grew even louder, and she struggled to hold on.

“I’m sorry, Twilight...” she whimpered. “Sorry I wasn’t there... sorry... that I couldn’t save you.”

-

Chapter 3: A Beautiful Morning

A thanks goes out to The Prereaders

My Name Is Astor Coruscare

My Name is Astor Coruscare

The only sound that could be heard through the court of the sun was Fluttershy’s sobbing.

She sat against the far wall, cradling Empyrean’s limp body in her hooves.Tears streaked down her face to fall across the dead prince’s mutilated neck. Her fragile form was wracked with sobs.

Twilight watched her, not sure what she should do. It wasn’t just that she had no idea what to do with Fluttershy—she had no idea what to do with anypony. Or even herself. The Elements were black and inert. Twilight and her friends were just another six ponies. Even if they were some of the strongest soldiers in the world, what good were soldiers now?

Fluttershy broke the silence with a cry. “He killed him!” She looked down at the tiny pony she held. “He wasn’t dangerous,” she said softly. “He couldn’t hurt anyone. He was just a child.”

Twilight crossed the room to where Fluttershy sat, then leaned down beside her. “I know, Fluttershy.”

“How can anypony do that?” Fluttershy said, looking up at Twilight. “He just... he just...” A fresh set of tears rolled down her face, and she broke down and started to sob once more.

Twilight had passed the fight to Celestia, but for now it seemed she was still in charge. If she didn’t give orders, nopony would. “Get her away from him,” she said to Applejack. “All of you, get some rest. I know the sun is up but it’s barely three in the morning. All of you will find medical attention and get checked out.”

Applejack opened her mouth to protest.

“All of you,” Twilight said. “Dash, you look like you can hardly fly. Rarity is limping. And even you have limits, Applejack.”

“So do you,” Applejack said. Twilight didn’t doubt that they could hear the weariness in her voice.

“I’ll be out in a bit.” Twilight regretted the lie as soon as she spoke the words. She wondered if Applejack could still tap honesty, or if she just knew Twilight well enough. “I have work to do.”

“Twilight—”

“I have work to do!” she shouted.

Rarity put a hoof on her shoulder. “Is this... about Spike?”

Of course it was about Spike. How could it not be about Spike?. “No,” she said through gritted teeth. “It’s not about Spike. It can’t be about Spike. It has to be about the continuity of our entire species. About restoring our way of life. I have to save the world, Rarity. I can’t afford to be bothered by a single baby dragon who is already dead.”

Were it not for her ability to suppress her own emotions, Twilight knew she would be crying. “Get to the army,” she said. “Find out what needs to be done and make sure it gets done. Chain of command until Luna gets back is Noble, Unimpressive, Starlight, Midnight. Find out... find out who’s still alive and let them know they’re in charge. Applejack speaks for me.”

“Twilight,” Rainbow Dash said, “you need—”

“—To be alone,” Twilight finished. “I need to be alone.” Nopony stopped her as she began to walk toward the exit.

When she got to the door, Fluttershy spoke. “We’re going to kill him,” she said. Twilight looked back to see that Fluttershy was on her hooves again. She was looking at Twilight, her expression confused. “We’re going to kill him,” Fluttershy repeated. Slowly, Twilight nodded.

Twilight looked at Applejack. “I’ll be back in the morning,” she said. The doors to the court of the sun boomed shut behind her as she left. Twilight much preferred leaving the rest of her sentence unsaid.

Then, you can tell me if my parents are still alive.

Titan hadn’t lied. The mountain had been turned into a plateau.

It hadn’t really been a mountain in the first place, or at least not a natural one. When Celestia and Luna had imprisoned Titan and Terra, the magic of their prison had inexplicably centered on a single point—the Dark Heart of the Everfree Forest. The one place Titan and Terra had forbidden to them in their childhood. Celestia and Luna had both been somewhat disappointed to find out that it was just the geographical center of the Everfree.

Still, she couldn’t explain why the nexus of energies that composed Titan’s prison had chosen to gather there. Just to be safe, Celestia had also used the Heart as her workbench when she altered the fundamental properties of the world. She had made the clouds more malleable, the animals more docile, and kept the monsters contained. The Dark Heart of the Everfree Forest had held all the enchantments that helped her turn the world into a paradise.

She had created the mountain as a monument, of sorts. A protective shell of stone over her enchantments, and a tombstone for her own mother and father. For the more intelligent denizens of the Everfree, it was a warning. The heart of your home is mine. If I wanted more, you could not stop me. Stay away from ponykind.

Whatever Titan had done, the entire top of the mountain had been sheared away, leaving a perfectly flat plateau rising over a hundred feet off the ground. The surface was so smooth it might as well have been polished. Celestia briefly wondered where he had put the rest of the rock.

Celestia’s hooves touched down on the stone, and Discord appeared beside her, content to hover. He was oddly still, staring intently at their opponents.

Across from them stood her parents—or at least, Celestia had thought they were her parents. Whether or not Terra was actually her mother was up in the air at this point. Perhaps Celestia could ask her before killing her.

Titan and Celestia both wore near-identical sets of conjured earthpony warplate, modified to fit the alicorn form. Titan had, after all, been the one to teach her the spell in the first place.

Terra moved first, but not to attack. Her horn glowed for a moment, and the moisture in the air around her coalesced, coating her in a thin layer of water. The water solidified into a black bladecasting robe. That Terra would prefer a robe made sense; that was what Luna wore, after all, and Terra had taught her everything.

Terra spoke. “Celestia,” she spat. “Do you have any idea what this creature is? Allying yourself with him isn’t just desperate, it’s insane? He’ll—”

Titan tried to kill her. He was fast, and there hadn’t been much distance between them to begin with. Celestia hadn’t even seen him beat his wings. Zenith wasn’t even cast. Singularity angled towards her bare neck, a lightless void intent on extinguishing her.

Before Celestia could throw herself out of the way, Discord was between them, holding the end of Singularity in an outstretched claw. There had been no indication of his motion; no flash of light, no blur of movement. He simply occupied the space he had not only a moment beforehand.

Celestia stepped back, shocked at Titan’s use of such underhanded tactics. Terra looked just as surprised as Celestia was. Had Discord not intervened, she would be lacking a head.

Titan’s actions told her that he did not believe victory was guaranteed. He was trying to win, which meant it was possible for him to lose. Discord’s intervention was the first time Celestia had ever seen her father stopped from doing anything.

“Now now, Titan,” Discord said with a smile as he uncoiled to his full height. “Why don’t you pick on somedraconequus your own size?”

The world around them darkened as Singularity drew in light. Celestia felt a tug towards the blade. Titan looked at Discord the same way he looked at everything else: as though he was an insect. The effect was somewhat diminished by the fact that Discord was twice Titan’s height. “You wish to test your might against the King of the World?” Titan said. “So be it.”

Discord simpered at him as he struck a mockery of a heroic pose. “You know, Order,” he said. “I do so love your sense of drama.” He beckoned to Titan with a claw.

The space between them exploded. A ripple of concussive force tossed Celestia backwards, and she managed to tuck herself into a ball and roll to her hooves about a hundred feet away. Tiny bits of stone pelted her coat, but her earthpony magic was more than strong enough to protect her from any actual harm. She looked up to see the clouds above them parting as if they had recently been disturbed.

She drew Zenith just in time; Terra was on her in moments. With a flash of neon green light, Exogenesis met Celestia’s blade as Terra came to a halt before her. They exchanged a basic series of blows, and Celestia noted with satisfaction that Exogenesis was channeling less power than her own weapon.

Their blades locked against one another in the air before them, and Zenith bore down on Terra. “Sister,” Celestia said, tasting the way the word sounded for the first time. “Are you also my mother, or was that all a lie?”

Terra smiled despite the fact that she was at a significant disadvantage. “Most of what we told you was lies,” she said. “But that one isn’t. You are my daughter, not that that means anything to an alicorn.”

“It means something to a pony.”

Terra barked out a humorless laugh. “I’m well aware of how attached ponies are to their children, Sunshine. But how could you understand what it is to be a mother? Luna is barely a hundred; you can’t have had children while we were away. Who are you to tell me I’m doing it wrong?”

Celestia thought of Twilight, murdering Esteem as she carried the sky on her shoulders. “I suppose you’re right,” she said. “What about your other parent? Your sibling? Were they as crazy as you?”

Terra’s eyes hardened. “This will be embarrassing,” she said.

Celestia was thrown off balance as the stone beneath her liquefied. Her hooves began to sink into the thick fluid as Terra swung at her with Exogenesis. She blocked the swing with Zenith, then tore free of the viscous stone with a flap of her wings. Another flap brought her to land back on solid ground.

Terra bounded across the pool of liquid and took another swing at Celestia, and Celestia caught it on Zenith once again, preparing to retaliate with superior force.

She didn’t get the chance to. Exogenesis split into two separate parts as it held Zenith, and one of them came through the air towards her. Celestia threw herself back to avoid the blade, but Terra had obviously been expecting this. Her hoof connected with Celestia’s face.

It was a strike delivered with the strength of an alicorn, and Celestia was thrown backwards over fifty feet as the sharp sound of the blow rang in her ears. She came to her hooves just in time to meet another one of Terra’s advances.

Celestia met Terra with Zenith raised to block, but Terra split Exogenesis into two parts once more. They circumvented her blade, and she pulled Zenith back to block one. The other sliced her foreleg off at the knee. Blood spurted out of the severed limb, and without the weight at the end of her leg, Celestia lost her sense of balance for a moment.

Without hesitating, Celestia drove her intact foreleg into Terra’s head, crushing most of her face and sending her windmilling into the stone below. Using unicorn magic, she pulled her severed foreleg back into place and earthpony magic reknit the flesh and bone together.

“Surprised?” Terra asked as she got to her hooves. “Everything you know about fighting you learned from me. I daresay Luna is still better at this than you are.” Her face crackled and popped as the bones reknit themselves. “And you think you’re going to win just because you’re older?”

Celestia regarded her mother. It was true—Terra did outclass her. Terra probably had all sorts of tricks to play, all manner of fighting styles and war-spells that Celestia had never even seen.

But Celestia was still stronger by a noteworthy margin. And as long as she played it safe, she could survive until Terra ran out of tricks. There was nothing her mind couldn’t learn, given time.

She brandished Zenith. “No, dear sister. I’m going to win because I’m smarter.”

It wasn’t over. Not yet.

Twilight trudged through the hallways of Canterlot Castle, examining the six-pointed black crystal that she floated before her. Equinox. The Element of Magic. Rendered inert.

She could still cast the blade, and she could still tap pegasus and earthpony magic. But the true power of the Elements of Harmony was lost to her. Titan had broken them, somehow.

She needed to fix them, and she needed to find out exactly how Titan could stop them. Nothing else mattered: not commanding the army, not crying over Spike, and not her.

Her. By now the name Twilight Sparkle felt strange to her. It was her name, certainly, but had she been the pony to command the Army of Equestria? Was she the pony who had challenged a god and murdered General Esteem? And was that pony the same pony who used to tuck Spike in at night?

Twilight stopped walking and leaned against a wall as she collected her thoughts. Now was not the time to undergo another identity crisis. Reason dictated that she was likely never going to reconcile Twilight Sparkle the student with Twilight Sparkle the godslayer. Her trivial emotions were nothing in the face of the greater threat.

She didn’t need to be happy. She didn’t need the assurance that what she was doing was right. She didn’t have time to regret releasing Discord, or killing Esteem. The world was on the precipice of disaster, and she would do whatever it took to make sure ponykind got to live through another day. Whatever it took.

She came to Celestia’s study, and was shocked by how little it had changed since she had been there last. The room was little more than a miniature, carpeted library outfitted with a table and a desk, but it was also where Twilight had taken most of her lessons. The room she had grown up in.

A quick sweep of her magical senses, and she found what she was looking for in the wall behind the main bookshelf. With a thought, Twilight tore the entire wall and the bookshelf away.

Safely hidden within the walls was a tiny square safe made completely out of what Twilight assumed was pewter. She reached out with her magical senses again, noting the composition of the enhancements made to safeguard the box. The familiar feel of Celestia’s gorgeously complex magic greeted her mind.

Twilight crushed the magic under her own, snuffing out every last vestige of Celestia’s power. After dealing with Titan’s protective enchantments, Celestia’s were almost primitive. The safe popped open, and Twilight gently lifted the perfectly preserved tome within.

She swept the rubble away from the writing desk, then used a spell to repair the chair she had broken and sat. There was only one true account of pre-Discordian time left to ponykind. Only one book that referenced the years of Titan and Terra. If answers existed, they were in this tome.

The book opened to the first page with a thought, and Twilight began to read:

My name is Astor Coruscare, and I write these words in moonlight to both ensure that they be preserved for eternity and to scorn the enemy of the crown, Princess Luna.

As soon as her eyes began to move across the page, Twilight felt the impression of magic against her mind. She drew away, wondering for a moment why the magic seemed so familiar to her. The answer that came to her was startling: it felt like her own. Astor Coruscare had enchanted her own journal.

Tentatively, and with many safeguards in place, Twilight opened her mind to the spell.

Astor tasted dirt and blood.

“Maybe that’s your talent,” Clarion said as he put a hoof on the back of her neck and held her face against the ground. “Maybe your name should be Punching Bag.” The other children in the yard laughed.

He lifted his hoof, then kicked her in the side. Astor involuntarily spat up a little blood and rolled weakly away from the blow before curling up into a ball. Not for the first time, she wished she was an earthpony. Clarion Call was so strong. She wished she could be that strong. She wished she could hurt him back.

Instead she was a unicorn. She’d learned a bit of magic. She could use it when putting the dishes away to set the glasses on the top shelf, and that was about it. She couldn’t use it to hurt Clarion, and so it was useless.

“Get up,” Clarion said. “Show us your flank. Let’s see if you have your punching bag cutie mark yet.” He grabbed her and threw her to her hooves, and Astor stumbled woozily as she caught her balance. One of her teeth felt loose from where he had stomped on her face.

“Blank,” he said, examining her flank. “Guess we’ll have to keep going.” The ponies in the yard cheered, and Astor made a mental note of everyone present. They’d get what was coming to them.

Clarion tackled her. Astor saw the attack coming, but it wasn’t like she was fast enough to move out of the way. It wasn’t like she could fight back against the burly colt. She was powerless.

Her head rang as it bounced against the dirt once more. Clarion climbed atop her and struck her in the jaw, and Astor bit her tongue for the second time that day. “I could snap your horn off,” Clarion said.

At this, the other ponies in the yard grew quiet, and Astor felt a twinge of real fear; Clarion never went this far. A unicorn’s horn took months to regrow.

“You’re already a talentless freak,” Clarion said. “Let’s make you a magicless one too.” Astor trembled, hating herself for how little she could do. “No,” Clarion said finally, “Putting the dishes away is all you’re good for. Maybe I’ll choke you instead.” With that, he began to push down on her neck with a foreleg.

Astor began to struggle, thrashing about with her legs and beating them against his side, but it was no good. “I could do it, you know,” he said. “I could say I didn’t know how much I was hurting you. I could say I thought it was a game. The worst they could do is conscript me, because I’m just a kid. I’d get out of here and get to join the army two years early. No one's going to take me home anyway.”

Astor’s eyes widened as he spoke. He couldn’t kill her, he was just a bully. There were other kids around—at least a dozen of them. One of them would do something. One of them was sure to see he was taking it too far. Her vision began to go fuzzy.

No one said anything. They were all going to watch her die.

Astor realized that Clarion was right—he could get away with killing her. Everypony knew that he wanted to join the army anyway. Not that any of them had a choice—they weren’t about to get adopted any time soon, and the orphanage wouldn’t keep them past the age of sixteen.

She had no mark, no parents, and no possessions—was her life or death really going to mean anything anyway? Why would she even want to survive in the first place? So that she could get up tomorrow and live another day as the useless, friendless, talentless Astor Coruscare? So she could proudly put the dishes on the highest shelf before getting beaten half to death out in the yard? Everypony who knew her was standing around and watching her have the life choked out of her, uncaring. So why should she care?

The answer that came to her had little to do with Astor Coruscare. She didn’t want to let Clarion win. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. She wanted him to live out the next two years in the orphanage, watching as nopony came to take him away to a loving home. Barring that, she wanted him to die.

Astor lifted a foreleg and gestured wildly to the area behind them, and she tried to form words. It failed, but she managed to mouth Sundance nonetheless.

For all his talk, Clarion’s eyes widened in fear. Astor noted with disdain how afraid he was of getting in trouble. He should’ve been afraid of getting killed.

Clarion turned to look for their caretaker, and Astor immediately mustered her strength and threw his leg off of her neck. She took a single, excruciatingly painful, gasping breath before Clarion’s head whipped back around toward her.

“Hey!” he said. He still had her pinned to the ground. Astor would only get one chance.

She wrapped her two forelegs around his neck, then drove her horn into his neck.

She didn’t get it all the way in—Sundance had forbidden her from sharpening her horn—but it was still enough. Clarion staggered back as she wrenched her horn free, as she felt his blood spurt out of his neck and all over her face. Astor stood, gasping painfully for more air as Clarion flailed around on the ground before her.

She must have hit his vocal chords — instead of screams, he was making raspy, gurgling noises and clutching his throat. Astor watched him, noting with a certain sense of satisfaction that nopony in the yard came to his aid.

It wasn’t enough. The amount of blood coming from his neck seemed like too little to Astor. The wound might not be fatal, especially not to an earthpony.

Astor needed it to be fatal. If Clarion healed, he’d come back and kill her. She needed to make sure he could never hurt her again.

Once she had caught her breath, she calmly strode over to him and pressed down on his neck with a hoof. She lowered her horn, preparing to push it through his flesh until she hit an artery.

She was knocked off her hooves before she could, by a pegasus even larger than Clarion.

“Titan’s heart!” Sundance cursed as she set Astor on the ground. “What is wrong with you, Astor? You could’ve killed him!”

Astor looked her caretaker in the eyes. “I was trying to kill him.”

Sundance turned to her assistant caretakers, who were just then landing in the yard. “Get him to the hospital,” she said. Then she rounded on Astor. “Inside. Now. Everyone inside.”

Astor was one of the few children at the orphanage with her own room. After months of fighting with every pony she had been paired with, Sundance had simply opted to let her be alone. It was not a reward—the orphanage, full as it was, could not just give her a room built for two ponies. Instead she had been moved into a refurbished supply closet. Her room was less than a third the size of a double, but she preferred it. She liked to be alone.

The only thing occupying the tiny space was a bed and her books. They weren’t hers, of course—she didn’t own anything. She didn’t even have a keepsake from her parents, like most of the others. Astor always made fun of them for crying over their little trinkets—lockets, blankets, Orange Pekoe even had a little model sailboat. Secretly, however, she would have liked to have even a little proof that they had existed, once.

Instead she had books. Astor had learned early on that most books were useless — books about gardening, or history, or stories about valiant princes rescuing distressed damsels. But even the orphanage had a couple of books on magic.

The problem was to learn magic she’d had to learn math, and sciences, as well as needing a dictionary to navigate the more complicated passages. One of the books was written in the old tongue, and so Astor had hoarded a couple books on that, too. Soon, every available space in her room was crammed with books. All because she wanted to learn some magic, in hopes that maybe it would help her hurt Clarion until he went away.

She wiggled the tooth that Clarion had almost knocked free. It was too loose, and Astor made an exercise out of tearing it out with her magic. Maybe if she practiced, she’d get good enough to rip somepony else’s teeth with her mind.

Then she began to read. She was good enough now that she could hold the book in the air and read it at the same time. This particular tome was about moment-fields: Astor was unable to create one herself, but she could still appreciate how they worked, and why they were more efficient than a simple wall of force.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the turning of the lock in her door. Astor never understood why Sundance needed to be able to lock them in their rooms — where would they go?

Sundance stepped into the room and sat down in the only place that she could — next to Astor on the bed. There were bags under her eyes, and her mane was disheveled. In her mouth she carried a bucket, which she set on the floor. “Clarion is going to survive,” she said at last.

“Shame,” Astor said.

“Don’t say that, Astor.” Sundance said. She pulled a cloth out of the bucket and wrang it out with her mouth. “Stay still,” she said through the cloth as she began to wipe at Astor’s face.

“I’m going to die now,” Astor said after a time. “Clarion is going to kill me.”

Sundance dropped the bloody cloth back into the bucket. “Clarion Call is a bully, not a murderer. I told you to stay away from him. And you stabbed him in the neck.”

“He was choking me,” Astor said. “He said that if he killed me, they’d probably conscript him. He wants to join the army, you know.”

“Clarion is a troubled colt,” Sundance said. “And you’re smart enough to know not to get involved with him.”

Astor reached out with her magic and pulled the cloth out of the bucket, then began to wipe at her tender neck. “So it’s my fault, then? My fault for being a talentless freak?”

“That isn’t what I said, Astor. Still, he hurt you more than he usually does. Why was he so angry?”

“I didn’t do anything. He’s an angry pony, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Sundance sighed. “It’s never nothing with you, Astor.”

Astor considered continuing her lie. Sundance could probably be made to believe her for now, but she wasn’t sure Clarion would keep quiet. She decided she’d tell the truth. She was, after all, a little proud of herself. “He told me that my parents were probably still alive,” she said. “He said that I was only here because they didn’t want me. That nopony wanted me.”

“Astor, you know that isn’t true.”

“Spare me,” she said. “Are you going to adopt me?”

“Astor—”

“That’s what I thought,” she said. “I broke his rattle.”

Sundance looked at her in horror. “What?!”

“His rattle. The one with the little blue dots on it. I turned it into ashes. It was the first time I’ve ever lit something on fire with my mind. Then I told him that his parents didn’t want him either, because they were dead. And he started hitting me, and then he tried to kill me. I decided that killing him was the only way to make sure he never got to hurt me again.”

“Astor, that rattle was the only thing he came here with. He valued it more than anything.”

“I know,” Astor said. “That’s why I destroyed it.”

Astor wrung her blood out of the cloth and deposited it back into the bucket. For a time, Sundance was silent.

“You hit his vocal chords,” she said at last. “He’s an earthpony, so they’ll heal, but he won’t be able to sing for months. That’s what makes him feel special, Astor.”

“You’re trying to make me feel sorry,” she said. “I’m not sorry. Why should he get to feel special when I don’t? Why should he get a stupid rattle? He’s going to come back and kill me, and I don’t even care.”

“Don’t say that, Astor.”

“It’s true. Nopony likes me and I have no talents. If I died how long would it take you to forget about me? How long until my name got mentioned for the last time? Can you tell me the names of all the orphans who have turned sixteen and gone off to war? Or have you forgotten them, too?”

Sundance stood to leave. “You have no idea how much it hurts, Astor, to see them go off to war and die. All of you grow up being told that nopony wants you, and so that’s what you do. But it isn’t true. I wish I could make you see that.”

With that, she left, locking the door behind her.

Astor Coruscare was powerful.

She floated in the center of the orphanage’s main hall, bathed in the light of her newly awakened magic. Around her orbited several dozen books. She had one of them open and was reading all about bladecasting when they came to collect her.

Two pegasi, lightly armored and bearing the encircled sun of Titan’s army, strode into the room. Between them was a pink-maned, white-coated alicorn. Astor had never seen an alicorn before. “You’re Princess Celestia,” she said.

Celestia regarded her for only a moment, her face expressionless. “Kneel,” she said at last.

Astor considered her words. “Why should I?” she said. “If you’re here to execute me, I die if I kneel and I die if I don’t. If you’ve decided to conscript me, then will my bad manners really change your mind?”

Again, the princess’s face did not betray her thoughts. “Leave us,” she said.

Nopony spoke. Sundance as well as Celestia’s guards both left immediately. Celestia continued to regard Astor with her cold stare, and Astor began to feel like a child for the first time in years. Suddenly floating in the center of the room seemed silly.

“Astor Coruscare,” Celestia said. “You killed a colt.”

“He wasn’t a colt,” Astor said. “He was older than me.”

“He was a colt, and you are a filly. Children both. You will tell me why he is dead.”

Astor was amazed at how Celestia could make such a musical voice sound bland and lifeless. “He tried to kill me,” she said, “so I stabbed him in the neck with my horn.”

“You killed him with magic.”

“I did,” Astor said. “He survived when I stabbed him in the neck, but I broke his voice somehow. His special talent was singing. When he came back to the orphanage, he tried to kill me again.”

“And that’s when you got your mark?” Celestia asked.

Astor nodded. “I was dying,” she said. “He was choking me to death in the kitchens and I couldn’t stop him this time. And then I felt all warm inside, and suddenly I felt all good.”

Celestia nodded. “An awakening.”

“I had so much magic,” Astor said. “I started floating and my eyes were hot. Clarion got scared.”

“He backed away? It was not in self-defense?”

“He backed away,” Astor said. “But I knew that he’d try again. He’d come for me in my sleep or stab me with a knife. So I grabbed him with my magic,” she said, remembering. “I pulled him in all different directions. He came apart.” There had been blood everywhere.

“I see,” Celestia said. “Do you know how highly your magical power measures?”

“No,” Astor said. “They gave me a scale to use, but I broke it.”

Celestia nodded. “Yes, Astor, you broke it. You are an extremely special unicorn.”

“Valuable,” Astor said. Celestia cocked her head. “I’m valuable. You want me to fight in your army. And if I don’t you’re going to kill me. That’s why you’re here.”

Celestia began to step closer. “Essentially, yes. Magical talents are extremely valuable, and you are the most valuable magical talent. I had come here prepared to appeal to you as an orphan. I was going to tell you that everything would be okay and that I was going to care for you now. I had intended to make you feel wanted and to offer you a home.”

Astor swallowed. “You aren’t?”

“I am,” Celestia said. “But now that I have met you, I see that I can make what you will find to be a far more compelling offer, one even more true. It was in the way you refused to kneel, the way you float instead of sit, the way you described killing Clarion Call. This will make you less inclined to rebel.”

She stepped inside Astor’s bubble of books and leaned down. “Power, Astor. If you come with me, become my pupil, and do exactly as I say, you will become the strongest mortal pony to have ever lived. I will teach you to kill your enemies, and you will make my enemies yours. You will never want for food, shelter, or attention, and you will be respected by your allies and feared by your rivals.”

Astor looked up at her. The offer wasn’t something she had to think about. “I accept,” she said. “But I have a question.”

“Refer to me as ‘Your Highness’.”

“I have one question, Your Highness.”

Celestia nodded in approval. “Ask.”

“You weren’t clear. Is this a conscription, or an adoption?”

Terra supposed it was nice to finally spend some sisterly time with Celestia, even if it was locked in her older sister’s legs and plummeting toward the ground at near supersonic speeds.

The hair on Terra’s back burned, though she couldn’t tell if it was from the heat of Celestia’s passage or the lightning strike. Taking the fight to the air had been an act of foolishness on her part. What exactly had compelled Past-Terra to battle her daughter in the sky when she was Queen of the firmament eluded her. Past-Terra could be a bit of an idiot, sometimes.

The ground was coming up fast, and Terra was not thrilled by the idea of impact. Typically, the ground and her got along swimmingly—she was Terra, after all. But something told her that the Terra-Earth relationship would suffer if she ended up decorating the forest floor, a discolored puddle as thick as a coin.

In the moment before they passed the treeline, Terra acted. She liquefied the dirt beneath them as they broke through the canopy, snapping branches and setting leaves aflame. They hit the ground with enough force to pulverize Terra’s flesh and send liquefied earth fountaining into the air around them. Celestia fumbled as they struck, and Terra broke free of her grip and let the earth pull her into its embrace. Her torn flesh re-knit itself and her burns healed as she was engulfed in darkness.

The flowing soil was not so kind to her daughter. It enveloped Celestia, flowing up her coat and sticking to her in thick strands. Celestia beat her wings frantically to escape as it pulled her under, tearing herself free of Terra’s entrapment. She shook the liquid dirt from her armor as she landed on solid ground.

Terra emerged from the pool fully healed and told the ground to solidify with a tap of her hoof. It froze beneath her, reverting to a form not unlike the one it had held before. Terra didn’t need the ground to be solid—she could walk on water, after all. But focusing on her hooves would be an unnecessary distraction.

“You know,” Celestia said. “You really should have seen Discord coming. A walk through the palace gardens would have told you he’s been here all along.” Burning leaves fell to the ground around them, embers and ash drifting in a sea of green.

Terra snorted even as she wondered why Celestia was stalling. “The gardens?” she asked. “Do I seem like the kind of pony who is into gardens?”

Celestia raised an eyebrow. “You’re mother nature.”

“Oh, Celestia,” Terra said. She cast Exogenesis. “Nature is hardly mine. It never has been, least of all now. Tell me, why try to start a conversation? What are you waiting for?”

Zenith flared into life before Celestia. “I’m narrowing down every possible action you can take,” she said. “Figuring out how to give you a problem you can’t solve.”

“Oh?” Terra said. “Let me help you, child: two possible outcomes exist. One, you fail to kill me. Titan returns after defeating Discord and you die. Two, you succeed in killing me. Titan returns after killing Discord and you die. That’s what happens when you play the immortal game, Celestia. Titan wins, and you die.”

Celestia smiled faintly. “We’ll see.”

She crossed the distance between them with a flap of her wings, and Exogenesis flared as it deflected Zenith. Terra fought like a cornered manticore. Her bladework was feral and frantic; Exogenesis was rarely in one place—or even one part—for long. It clawed at Celestia’s guard, desperately trying to work through her defense.

Her efforts were to no avail. Fighting Celestia was like fighting a mirage. Celestia’s style focused not on power or speed, but duplicity; over half her strikes were feints of some kind or another, and every time Terra intercepted them, she was forced into a more compromising position. Every step forward cost her two steps back.

Terra did not give her the advantage so easily, however. She dodged and wove under Zenith just as often as she caught it on Exogenesis. When she did hold Celestia’s blade on her own, it was to lash out with her hooves or skull—and in purely physical combat, Terra far outclassed Celestia.

They dueled as gods. The trees around them might as well have been kindling, so often did Celestia shear through them with her ever burning blade on her path to Terra. Mundane fire was hardly a nuisance, and Terra strode with single minded determination on her quest to kill her daughter. Ashes fell through the air around them. Blood matted their coats. They never ceased.

“So,” Celestia said over the sound of their clashing blades. “You said you were good once. What happened?”

Two parts of Exogenesis dove through the air towards Celestia, and she pushed herself backwards with her wings, crashing through two trees in the effort to avoid Terra’s blade. “My father happened,” Terra said as she rejoined her blade. “He arranged a very bad marriage for my past self.” Terra couldn’t help but grin at the way Celestia’s eyes narrowed. Celestia was all too easy to toy with when it came to matters of the past.

Celestia dove at Terra, and Terra spun away from Zenith and backhoofed her daughter across the face. Dirt dragged under Celestia’s hooves as she rolled back to her hooves and skidded to a halt. Terra watched her jaw snap back into place with a satisfying pop.

“That,” Terra said lightly, “and he gave me the order to strike ponykind down. It took decades to get the numbers just the way our dear father wanted them. I had a tendency to overdo things, you see, and then we’d have to breed them back to proper numbers.” She leapt at Celestia, and Exogenesis collided with Zenith in the air between them.

“But it wasn’t just about statistics,” Terra hissed over the sizzling blades. Her eyelashes caught fire; she ignored them. “Titan wanted to send them a message, so he ordered a generation gap. Every pony under nine years of age at the time of the directive had to die. If the month of torture didn’t clue you in, our father has a bit of a cruel streak.”

“It’s all his fault, is it?” Celestia asked. Exogenesis flickered.

Terra growled. “No. I own my actions. Titan doesn’t understand how ponykind can resist when the battle they fight is so hopeless; but I know. I’ve seen so many mothers and fathers put themselves between me and their infant children, knowing that they are about to die. Knowing that they can’t stop me, but trying nonetheless. Fight to survive. It’s part of their design.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Celestia said. “I’m going to make you helpless, and then I’m going to cover your nostrils and shove my hoof down your throat.”

Terra smiled. “That’s the Celestia I raised. I get so tired of hearing your self-righteous justifications for why you should rule the world. No amount of good you can do can make up for the sins of our past. I’ve wiped entire species off the face of my world.”

Celestia’s mouth twisted into a grimace of disgust. “And you’re proud of it, Terra. How?” Celestia shouted.

A jolt of magic coursed through Terra as Exogenesis went out. Her hair was singed off as a wave of engulfing flames poured forth to envelope her. Terra called air under her tattered wings and threw herself backward, casting the flames back at Celestia as she flew away. Celestia stepped through the fire unscathed—sunfire never hurt Princess Celestia.

“How!” Celestia screamed. “How could you have ever been good!” She thrust Zenith forward along with her foreleg.

A searing white stream of liquid flame erupted from the tip of her blade and poured forth with an immense roar. Terra sprang off the ground with the strength of a colossus to avoid the blast. With beads of sweat gathering on her forehead from concentration, Celestia swung the beam towards her.

It cleaved through the trees of the Everfree Forest, instantly transforming every trunk it touched into a puff of ash. Leaves and grass dozens of feet from the flames caught fire. The ground beneath the beam glowed as it was reduced to molten glass. No, Terra thought: sunfire never hurt Princess Celestia. But it always hurt everything else.

How could you have ever been good? Past-Terra could be a bit of an idiot, sometimes.

As the beam died, Celestia shot through the air towards her. Despite her godly resilience, half of Terra’s coat had been reduced to singed stubble. Terra growled as Zenith and Exogenesis flared against one another, green and gold light fusing to burn together as a miniature star.

Celestia pushed Terra’s blade to the left with her own, then struck Terra with a foreleg coated in telekinetic energy. A thunderous crack rang out through the forest as a ripple of concussive force threw Terra to the ground. Terra twisted in the air to land on her hooves.

Too late, Terra realized that the ground beneath her had been turned to molten glass.

The quadruple shock of pain as the boiling slag enveloped her legs shattered Terra’s concentration. The pain travelled upward as each of Terra’s legs was burned off well past her hooves. Her mind registered one thought before all others: Celestia had tricked her. Treacherous little bitch. Terra propelled herself into the air with a sweep of her wings so powerful it sent a wave through the molten earth.

Apparently Celestia wasn’t finished. With the talent of a thousand-year pegasus, Celestia called lightning from a clear sky, drawing out a thunderbolt as thick around as she was. It struck Terra head-on, and electricity overwhelmed her senses. Her eyes sizzled and popped, the sticky fluid running down her face.

Celestia wasn’t just fighting her. Celestia was trying to kill her. Here. Now. In the back of Terra’s mind, a voice screamed a single word: survive. She hit the ground.

Celestia threw another roaring stream of liquid sunfire. Terra felt it coming even if she couldn’t see it. She tried to move, but she was so slow. This wasn’t right. She had to survive...

Terra was cremated alive.

If she screamed, it was lost in the sound of Celestia’s spell as it burned away the air around her. If she felt pain, it was only momentary; the fire burned away even her nerves. Terra felt her bones warp and crack under the heat, wrapped in her charred muscles. Melted fat ran off her body and vaporized. If she was going to survive, it would be at Celestia’s mercy.

No killing blow came. Terra’s body knew how to put itself back together, how to drag the remnants of a pony together and turn ash into flesh. Her bones splintered and snapped back into place as her muscles filled out, and Celestia did not kill her. Her organs began to toil away inside her as blood flowed through her veins once more, but Celestia did not kill. It was only once Terra’s eyes flowed back into their sockets that Terra saw why.

Titan stood above her with all his terrible countenance. His mane wreathed his face, a blazing white corona set around two eyes that burned amidst darkness. Great black wings stood stalwart, rimmed at their tips with ether. Singularity was extended before him; holding Zenith in the air above Terra. Protecting her.

Terra looked at him and suppressed a shudder. How could you have ever been good. Past-Terra certainly was a fool; for the only fate worse than being Titan’s daughter was being his wife, and she was both.

“I,” Titan said, “am not amused.”

“Name?” One of the guards asked.

“My name is Astor Coruscare,” she said. “I’d like to speak with Major Compromise.”

The guard looked her over. Astor wore no uniform, and today her mane was a shade of bright red. “No,” he said.

“I urge you to reconsider your response,” Astor said. “I’m very important, you see.”

“What I see,” the guard said. “Is a rankless child attempting to interrupt an important meeting being held by the acting head of the army. Get out of here.”

Half the time and twice the effort it takes me to sneeze, Astor thought. That’s how long it would take me to kill you, little pony. “Valiant!” she called out.

Valiant had been speaking with a soldier of the army. He appeared to excuse himself from the conversation before striding towards Astor and the guard.

“Get us in,” Astor said to him.

“And who’s this?” the guard asked, looking Valiant over. His eyes took in a black-robed, white unicorn somewhere close to Astor’s age of sixteen.

Valiant gave a polite half-nod, half-bow. “I am sir Valiant, Knight Commander of the Natural Order. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

The guard laughed. “You?” he asked, “a Knight Commander of the Natural Order? I suggest you take that robe back to its owner before he gives you a whipping, boy.”

Valiant did not appear offended in the slightest. “The Natural Order does not consider age a substitute for experience or skill. I request that you allow Astor and I into the inner ring to speak with Major Compromise.”

At this, the guard’s laughter redoubled. “Is that so? Tell, me, Sir Valiant, what kind of knight of the Natural Order requests anything from a lowly guard like me?”

“A well-mannered one,” Valiant said.

“Just my luck!” the guard shouted. “I got the only polite knight out of the whole order. Any of the others would have killed me by now, right? But not you. Oh you are too kind, Sir Valiant.”

“Thank you,” Valiant said with a nod. Astor started to grow impatient.

“Scram,” the guard said. “I know for a fact that the Major doesn’t have any Knight Commander with the army.”

Valiant nodded again. “I am not with the army. I have been assigned as Astor Coruscare’s knight protector, so that she may continue to hold no rank during her stay here.”

“Look, kid,” the guard said. “I don’t care what story you two have cooked up. You keep running your mouth and I’ll have you both strung up by your ears. Understand?”

Valiant regarded him coolly. “How stupid,” he said quietly, “can you possibly be?”

Finally, Astor thought.

The guard’s jaw fell open. “What did you just say to me?”

Valiant continued to speak, his voice calm and level. “No pony would dare impersonate a Knight Commander of the Natural Order. I am young, yes; and so your doubts as to my rank are not entirely unfounded. But if you were to consider for even a moment that there is the slightest chance that I am who I say I am, you would have treated me with a little more respect. Just in case.

“You could have excused yourself, checked my identity on the ledger, then returned informed; and yet you did not. Do you understand that while in this camp I am the word of King Titan?”

The guard looked from Valiant to Astor, uncertainty showing on his face. “I’ll check the ledger,” he said, “but if—”

“No,” Valiant interrupted him. “You will not. You will decide here and now whether or not you believe what I am saying is true. If you allow me through and I am an imposter, you will be punished by your superiors. If you turn me away and I am not an imposter, I will invoke the wrath of Titan.”

“That means he kills you,” Astor said. It’s almost like a logic puzzle, Astor thought. I wonder how often guards get those on the job.

“That’s exactly what an imposter would say,” the guard said. “You don’t want me checking the ledger.” Astor noticed a bead of sweat glistening on his forehead.

“It is,” Valiant said. “But it is also a pointless cruelty, if I am who I say I am. Doesn’t that fit the descriptions of a knight of the Natural Order that you’ve heard?”

“I...” the guard looked around frantically. “You can’t expect me to...”

“Three seconds,” Valiant said.

“Okay!” the guard shouted. “Just go! Major is going to have my ass for this regardless.”

“Thank you,” Valiant said as both he and Astor strode past the guard. “You will undoubtedly wish to check my weapon.” His robe fluttered, and thirteen pieces of metal neatly stacked themselves onto the ground. “Thirteen pieces of thunderbolt silver.”

The guard looked down at the metal, and Astor knew exactly what thought ran through his head: only the owner of the blade could manipulate it with telekinesis.

“Consider it a rare kindness,” Valiant said as he turned to move deeper into the inner circle. “That I will forget your face.”

“Well,” Astor said once they were well on their way to Major Compromise. “That was almost mean of you, Valiant. I’m surprised.”

Valiant raised an eyebrow. “I was doing him a kindness,” he said. “Any other member of the order will kill him if he shows that much disrespect. I taught him a much-needed lesson. Still, I would like to use my power for something other than being your bully for once.”

“I hear Firkraag is getting restless again,” Astor said. “How does slaying one of the strongest dragons in the world sound?”

“Impossible, even for you and me. I was thinking more along the lines of rescuing a damsel. Something that makes the world a better place.”

“And instead you’re stuck opening all the doors I can’t blow down,” Astor said. “Perhaps I should ask Celestia for a rank.”

“Princess Celestia,” Valiant corrected. “Titles are important.”

“All knights say that,” Astor countered with a smile.

“Tell me,” Valiant said. “Why are we about to interrupt a meeting between Major Compromise and all his most trusted officers?”

“You hadn’t already guessed?”

“I have my suspicions,” Valiant said. “The greatest of which comes from the fact that you don’t wear jewelry.”

Astor looked down to the necklace of large beads around her neck. “You’re so observant,” she remarked. “But this is just for the worst case scenario. I’m just going to tell the major that I’m taking command of the army.”

Valiant stopped in his tracks. “You have got to—no, you know what? I know you enough to know that you aren’t joking.”

“Well,” Astor said, stopping to face him. “Let’s hear your objections.”

“You can’t,” Valiant said. “It’s insane! Celestia put you here so you’d learn how the army works, not tear it apart from the inside out!”

“Celestia doesn’t ever do something for just one reason,” Astor said. “And I have learned how ponies make war, Valiant. I’m going to make some improvements.”

“By staging a coup? Can you hear yourself speaking right now?”

“I can,” Astor said, growing irritated. “Celestia gave Compromise this army so he could take the Everfree Verge. He has failed to take the Everfree Verge. I’ve deemed it necessary to step in.”

“You’re doing this to impress Celestia.”

“Why else do I do anything?” Astor asked him. “You are my knight protector and you will do as I tell you. And right now I am telling you to stand idly by while I seize command from Major Compromise. You can do that, yes?”

“When Princess Celestia learns of this—”

“Don’t presume to know the Princess better than I do, Valiant. Now come.” She turned and swiftly began to walk away.

“This is crazy,” Valiant muttered before following her. “I don’t have my blade, Astor.”

“You won’t be needing it. Your job is to stand idle, remember? You’re a Knight Commander, and if you stand near me I look important by proxy.”

“You can’t take whatever you want just through looking important, Astor.”

“I know that,” she said. “But I can take the rest through power, intelligence, or sex appeal.”

“Sex appeal?” Valiant asked. “Is that why you walk the way you do?”

“Yes,” Astor answered. “You’d be amazed at how easy it is to get a pony to do what you want when their sole interest is taking you to bed.” Take the hint,Astor thought to herself. “Back there you got us through the guard because he thought you were a Knight Commander of the Natural Order.”

“I am a Knight Commander of the Natural Order.”

“Irrelevant,” Astor said. “The position is not something real; like our unicorn magic, it is an invention. The rules of bladecasting, which were selected in a fashion that is seemingly arbitrary, cause ponies to look upon you with respect simply because of the color of your robe.”

“What are you getting at?” Valiant asked.

“I am the strongest unicorn alive, and yet I hold no rank, and so in many ways I am powerless. Compromise is a major, and this imaginary position gives him a very real store of influence. But he’s proven he can’t use it anymore, so I’m going to take it away from him.”

“And then you’re going to win the Everfree Verge?”

“Yes,” Astor said. “If a single pony can influence others by the way they dress, and the way they act, and the way they are spoken of, cannot an army? Where is the robe that demands our enemies reconsider? Where is the title that will bring them to their knees without a drop of blood shed? I propose that an army is not unlike a pony.”

“You sound like you’re a book all of a sudden.” Astor ignored him.

The inner ring of Compromise’s camp was constructed around the ruins of an ancient town that had apparently been burned to the ground by Firkraag in one of his more active years. The result was a collection of barely-habitable stone ruins that served as housing for the army’s commanders.

The central structure, the bare remnants of what had once been a keep, was where Major Compromise held his war talks. Nopony was allowed in or out while they were ongoing.

Astor threw the doors open with an excessive amount of noise and magical flare. Inside, over a dozen ponies stood around a large round table. At their center was Major Compromise, an aging unicorn with a green coat and a blue mane.

“Major Compromise,” Astor called out as every pair of eyes in the room turned to her. “Your failure to consult me before making the decision to retreat was about as ill-advised as the decision itself. Celestia will be most displeased.”

Establish yourself as a being of power and authority; let the disparity between the pony they see and the pony you act like intrigue them.

“Coruscare,” Compromise growled. “I told you I’m not interested in teaching a filly the intricacies of battle. Get out of here before I have you strung up by your ears.”

An effective counter; he made you appear little while ignoring your claim to authority. If only he had challenged it. Ah, well, nothing to do but make him appear childish as well and drive the Celestia bit home.

“You act childish, Compromise. Attempt to harm me and I will have you hung for treason and then quartered for heresy.”

Enough time has passed that they will all have noticed the bladecaster standing at your side. Let them ask, who is this mare who threatens the major with death?

The major stared at her, mouth agape. Astor didn’t blame him: she had, up to that point, played the eager student. “You dare,” he said at last. “You dare accuse me of betraying the crown?”

And now, answer their question.

“I am right hoof of Celestia herself, and I speak with her voice,” Astor lied. “I do not accuse you of betraying the crown. I convict you of it.”

If you’re lucky, he’ll argue against the treason and not the authority.

“I have done nothing to betray my King and Princess! You speak nonsense, Coruscare!”

That was easy. Let’s make him angry.

“Princess Celestia instructed you to take the Everfree Verge. You are about to order a retreat.”

“Staying in the Verge will result in a loss!” Compromise cried.

“Retreat guarantees one!” Astor shouted. “Or have you forgotten that, Compromise?! Do I need to remind you that when you retreat, it means you lose!”

Unless you win, in the end. But we won’t let him in on that.

The major’s face was growing red. “You dare talk to me that way?” he bellowed. “I am the veteran of a decade of war! I commanded decisive victories at Hocksgrad and Midland!”

Belittle him.

“Neither of which were won by retreating, if I recall.”

“Bitch,” was all the major said.

Time for the most potent weapon of all: blatant lies.

“Princess Celestia suspected your incompetence,” Astor said. “But even she did not think it would be this bad. Four defeats in two months. Three villages lost to Princess Luna. Your failure is indefensible and drastic actions must be taken to ensure you do not hinder the crown’s aims any longer.”

“You have no authority,” Compromise said, fuming.

“On the contrary,” Astor said. “You have no authority. I am stripping you of your rank and its privileges. You are to return to the capitol immediately. If you do not follow this order, I will invoke the wrath of Celestia.”

Please, Astor thought. Oh Celestia please! Her mind went to the heavy beads on her necklace. There were exactly twenty of them.

Major Compromise cast his blade. “I’d like to see you try, well-born bitch!”

Displaced air swished around Astor as she came out of a teleport only inches away from the major. His mouth opened, but the only sound that came out was a soft gurgle before his eyes glazed over. He collapsed into three neatly sliced pieces of pony, and a torrent of blood rushed out around Astor’s hooves as they hit the floor with a meaty thud.

I grew up in an orphanage, Major, Astor thought.

Her blade, Sangrophile, hovered in the air. Astor had used it to cut towards her, and as a result her face and mane had been covered with blood. She shuddered with pleasure as the warm beads ran down her face, tickling her cheeks. The ponies gathered around the table looked on, motionless.

Not all power is imaginary, she thought to herself.

“I am going to tell you exactly what I want to happen,” Astor said to her new underlings. “And you are going to make it happen. It is through this method that we will win the Everfree Verge. If that isn’t how it worked before, that’s how it works now. But please, feel free to make suggestions; my doors are always open.”

The ponies around the table were silent. Astor could feel Compromise’s blood pooling around her hooves. She licked her lips.

“The pegasi will begin clearing a weather zone three times as large as needed above the camp. The unicorns will begin lighting triple the current amount of campfires at night. The earthponies will set up every tent we have rather than only the amount we need, and they will space them such that they fill the new area.”

Nopony spoke, so Astor continued. “They will do this as we move towards Stirrup Valley , as if to attack Bridleburg.” Astor looked up at the table of ponies again and waited.

A nearby officer took the bait. “Bridleburg appears—”

“To be an easy target, yes,” Astor said. “The enemy wishes us to engage there so they can flank us with a surprise contingent from the south. Elementary, really; but we aren’t going to attack Bridleburg, we’re just going to make it look like that’s what we’re doing. And our foes will hesitate to attack us when scouts report an army three times its previous size is camped at their doorstep. They will assume we got reinforcements from the capitol, then wait for us to engage.

“But we won’t. By moving into position to attack us from the south, they will leave the main stretch of the Verge lightly defended. We will then send our two hundred best unicorns, and a courier pegasus for each, to take the river south. They will operate in teams of twenty and, starting from the north, they will scorch and desolate every piece of fertile land in the Verge.”

“You can’t be serious,” a pony said.

“I am. The enemy has demonstrated that they are committed to the Verge, and they will split their contingent to deal with our guerrillas rather than attempt to force an engagement, especially when they think our numbers have tripled. They will fail, however, and every piece of edible food between here and the the end of the Verge will be consumed within the space of two months.

“Luna controls an ouropolis, Cumulon. This means that with a committed force of earthponies, they could re-sow the land. To that end we will also dam the river.”

“You’re going to turn the Verge into a wasteland,” an officer said.

“I am. Over the course of the next four months the enemy will suffer starvation, desertion, and poor morale. We will convince them we have a strong foothold here while forcing them to spread their forces thin. With our backs to a supply line, we will be relatively unhindered.”

“This is vicious,” the same officer said. “Nopony makes war like this.”

“Exactly,” Astor said. “They won’t expect it, and they won’t know how to react. They’ll still control the Verge, and they’ll still have the larger army, so standard practice dictates that they wait for us to make our move. But we won’t. We’ll starve them out and then strike when they begin limping back to safer territory.”

“If they think we’ve reinforced,” he said. “They’ll think the master general has taken a larger interest in the Verge. They may respond in kind.”

“They won’t be able to feed an army on scorched earth,” Astor said.

“I didn’t mean soldiers,” he said. “What do we do if Princess Luna takes the field?”

Another pony barked out a humorless laugh. “What any army does when The Slayer takes the field,” he said. “Die.”

“I will kill her,” Astor said.

The officer stopped to look at her. “You’re not serious?”

“I can best Princess Celestia in single combat,” Astor said. “My ultimate purpose in this war is to kill her sister. If Luna takes the field—” Astor looked down at the blood she stood in. She wanted more. “—She dies.”

Not for the first time in her everlasting life, Celestia found herself frustrated at Titan’s power. It just wasn’t fair. It never had been.

Titan struck her with a hoof encased in concussive force, and a wave of shattering bones travelled through her body as she was tossed backwards like a broken toy. She barely managed to block Singularity three more times before she collided with the ground, and Celestia struggled to right herself. She faced Titan, ready for another attack, but he held back, standing several dozen feet away.

“Not my daughter,” he said. Celestia was unsure if he was referring to her or Terra. She worried for a moment that it was both—ponykind was in big trouble if Titan ever learned to do more than one thing at one time.

Singularity split and came towards her, over two dozen shards of pure blackness. Celestia didn’t get the chance to react—every smooth, lightless fragment of her father’s blade was transformed into confetti long before it reached her. The colorful paper spun and flapped about like a flock of butterflies in the air between them.

“I wonder sometimes,” Discord said as he popped into existence between them. “If you ponies just have a different definition of the word ‘fun’. Why else would you all be doing this—” he made a sweeping gesture to Celestia, Terra, and the burning forest. “—if you don’t like doing this. Why do anything that isn’t fun?”

Celestia resisted the urge to sigh with frustration. “You’re supposed to kill him,” she said to Discord. She didn’t know what a fight between Titan and Discord looked like, though she was more than a little curious. In the past, no magic Celestia had employed could even hinder Discord, let alone send him running.

Titan was still. Terra struggled to her hooves.

“Not going to happen,” Discord said, suddenly behind her.

“No,” Celestia whispered. “You have to.”

“I’ll give you three days,” Discord said. “Three days without Titan to get Twilight and her friends ready.”

“The Elements won’t work,” Celestia said, remembering the dull black crystals affixed to their armor.

Discord chuckled. “That’s because Twilight’s got them on automatic,” he said. “She’s going to need to put them on manual.”

“Don’t play games with me, Discord!”

“Oh no?” Discord said. “But isn’t that what you’re doing right now? Playing your little game? Nothing has beaten Titan at your game. Ever. But I’ll try,” he whispered. “Just for you.”

“Bastard,” Celestia said. “You never wanted us to win.”

“Believe me, Celestia,” Discord said as he stepped out in front of her to face Titan. “It will be much more interesting this way. Yoohoo!” Discord called out to Titan.

Titan regarded Discord coolly. “Do you know, Order,” Discord said as an apple popped into existence in his claw. “Why you assume that this apple will fall when I let go of it?” Titan said nothing. “Because,” Discord said, “every other time an apple is released in mid-air it has fallen. And why do you assume that an apple will behave the way it has in the past?”

Discord took a bite of the apple as he strode towards the King. “Because that’s the way the world works,” he said. “That’s the order. Identical situations produce identical outcomes. The world behaves the way it has in the past. But why do you believe that? Well because,” he said, grinning. “That’s the way it’s behaved in the past!”

Discord stopped walking a short distance away from Titan. “The world will be predictable because the world has always been predictable. It’s a circular argument, you see, which makes it invalid. Watch.”

He let the apple tumble out of his hand. It fell, just like he said it would, through the air and toward the ground. But when it landed, it became a unicorn’s severed head. Adult male: red mane, white coat. Titan closed his eyes.

“Order is not inherent to our world,” Discord said. “‘Natural order’ is an oxymoron. The only truth is that there isn’t any. The only thing natural is chaos.” He took a step closer to Titan and leaned in. “Stop breaking my rules, Order.”

“Dot not call me Order,” Titan said. “Discord. You think that you can hurt me. You think that you can taunt me with my dead son. You cannot. You think that you can win this world from me. You cannot. Despite all your claims that you are chaos incarnate, you have always been entirely predictable, my enemy. And your greatest weakness is that you can never change.” He opened his eyes. “I do not suffer the same flaw. I am Order no longer.

“My name is Titan,” he said as Singularity darkened into life before him.“And you should not have dropped the apple.”

“Good news,” Astor said as she entered Valiant’s chambers. “I outrank you now. Lieutenant Coruscare.”

Valiant sat in the center of his room, sharpening a shard of his blade. “You don’t outrank me,” he said, his eyes focused on the silver shard in front of him. “I’m a knight and you’re a soldier. Different castes entirely.”

“But,” Astor said. “I’m officially the right hoof of Celestia herself, now.”

“Princess—”

Astor waved a hoof. “Whatever. She’s Master General Princess Celestia to me now anyway.”

“And do you actually call her that?” Valiant asked.

“In public, yes. Celestia tolerates a great many things from me, but undermining her authority while she is present isn’t one of them. I’m a good little monster.”

Without looking up, Valiant switched the piece of his blade for another one. “You heard about that?” he asked.

“Astor Coruscare!” she cried. “Celestia’s little monster. A fine nickname to be given by your enemies, I think.”

“I disagree,” Valiant said. “But I don’t think you care. I take it our stay in the capitol is almost finished?”

“After my triumph in the Verge I’m getting my own army to take the North. What’s that big stretch of land north of the Everfree Verge called?”

“The Heart,” Valiant answered. “We’ll be getting closer to Firkraag. And his brother, Exakktus.”

“And I should care why?”

“Because they’re brothers, and the two strongest dragons in the world. Each of them can reduce an army to ash, Astor. And they stay out of one another’s territory, which is the friendliest relationship between two dragons I’ve ever heard of. The last time Firkraag was seen was a month ago, when we were pulling out of the Verge. He levelled an entire village of almost a thousand ponies.”

“I’m not a knight, Valiant. I don’t care about dragons.”

“Oh?” Valiant said. “The last time anypony saw Luna, she was driving Exakktus back into his lair. She is The Slayer, after all.”

Astor frowned. “I always thought that was just a catch-all term.”

Valiant shook his head. “Even among Titan’s knights, Luna is legendary. Celestia plays chess. Luna slays dragons. Still, she hasn’t managed to kill Exakktus or Firkraag yet.”

“So Luna may still be in the Heart,” Astor said. Killing Celestia’s sister would make her the end of the war. She would fulfill her purpose. Celestia would be proud.

“She may,” Valiant said, “But either of the dragons could make your life extremely difficult. And they’re far more likely to target us than Luna, seeing as they know she’s a threat.”

“If they do,” Astor said, “then we kill them. Simple enough.”

“Hardly,” Valiant said. “Still, it’s said that Firkraag’s hoard could buy a kingdom, and that it contains the purest thunderbolt platinum known to ponykind. The blade a pony could make out of that metal would have no equal.”

“Money and power,” Astor said. “I never took you for the type, Valiant. Aren’t you always talking about making the world a better place?”

Valiant laughed. “The only reason I seem like such a good pony is because every time you see me I’m next to you, Astor. I like the uniform, by the way.”

“Really?” Astor said, looking down at her pure white button-up coat and cloak. “I think the gold trim might be a bit much. At least I don’t have to wear a silly hat.”

“What about a hat that isn’t silly?” he asked. “Maybe a bicorne, or an admiral. Gold trim along the rim, you’d have to turn your hair white, of course, though if you did we’d match—”

Astor gave him an icy stare.

“Er,” Valiant said. “Maybe we’ve been in the capitol a bit too long. Perhaps it’s best we just go straight to war.”

Captain Mercurius landed before Astor and said, in a voice tight with fear, “We’re under attack.”

Astor regarded the captain. His wings’ sides and belly sported numerous scrapes and cuts, some of which were still bleeding. His mane was in disarray, but that was not unusual for a wing commander. They lived in the air, after all.

“Where is your flight?” Astor asked.

“Dead,” he said, wincing. “Three pegasi. Their leader...”

“Mare? White with a blue and red mane?”

Mercurius nodded. “I see,” Astor said. “Arcbolt is Luna’s greatest flying ace, and she is proving troublesome indeed. I presume that they are advancing from the North?”

“And west,” Mercurial said. “Six thousand at least. They must have somehow cut through the Verge.”

“Indeed,” Astor said. “Are your wounds mortal?”

“No, ma’am. I can still fight.”

“Then rally the camps. Tell the ponies to prepare for battle and await the orders of their commanders.”

Mercurius was taken aback. “Ma’am?”

“You heard me, Captain. If any of my ponies express the same doubt, remind them that I have never lost in the field. Act as though this is part of my plan.”

“Is it? Part of a plan, I mean, ma’am?”

“No,” Astor said. “This will be a bloodbath. But we will win,” she added upon seeing the look on his face. “Now go.” She tapped her magic and teleported away.

Astor came out of her teleport in the center of her command tent and was glad to see that most of her officers were present. “I will assume from the looks on your faces that most of you already know we are under attack,” she said. “Luna has apparently decided she can take us by surprise. She was right.”

She looked around at all of them. Astor had hoof-picked her war council for their competence. “Which is why the survival of every pony in this room and Celestia’s campaign in the Heart depends on your ability to listen to what I am about to say. Understand?”

Astor got a solitary nod from every single one of her commanders, so she began to give orders. This battalion would be a sacrifice to draw Luna into overextending, that battalion would split its second and third ranks to close and flank. This battalion would need to fight on the move, that one would need to form a phalanx. They were outnumbered. They were outmanoeuvred. But Astor’s had pushed her soldiers harder than any commander in the Royal Army, and they were better trained to work as a whole.

She’d never lost a battle. She’d never given ground. She was fully aware of the fact that if she could win this battle, Luna’s forces would be scattered and split, and Astor would take the entire Verge. She was Celestia’s little monster, and she was not about to disappoint her princess.

It was a short meeting. When she was finished, Astor teleported to her rooms. It was there that she kept her weapons. Sangrophile she kept on herself at all times, but she had other ways of killing ponies. Four metal discs, sharpened and enchanted for additional maneuverability. Two retractable hoof blades with enchanted holsters: superheated to discourage close quarters combat. Two dozen poison-coated needles: fast acting paralysis to take a pegasus out of the sky.

By now it was no trouble for Astor to manage the complex array of straps that made up her underarmor rig. She was dressed in less than a minute.

Valiant burst through her door just before she took the field. He was panting, and his eyes were wild. “Astor,” he said.

“Ah,” she said. “Glad you’re here. You can come with me; I’ll be breaking the morale of an entire battalion. I’ve never actually seen you fight other than in practice, you know.”

“No,” Valiant said. “Astor, you have to turn the army the around. We have to go south, now.”

Astor took him in. “Explain,” she whispered.

“It’s Firkraag,” he said. “He’s left the Verge, flying fast for Saddleburg.”

For a moment, Astor was confused. It didn’t take her long to figure out exactly what Valiant was trying to say, however. “Valiant,” she said. “If we retreat now then Luna will be able to drive us out of the heart completely. She’ll take Saddleburg.”

“And?” Valiant asked.

“And a pile of ashes is less useful to our enemies than a functional mining town.”

Valiant looked at her, stepping away. “You can’t be serious,” he whispered. “This isn’t a field of crops, Astor, this is a village of ponies.”

“The population of Saddleburg is two thousand, four hundred, eighty three. Luna’s attack force is at least six thousand.”

“No...” Valiant said, shaking his head.

“I can prove, mathematically, that I am making the right decision, Valiant.”

“They’re just a number to you? One village dead is just a statistic?”

“Do you know,” Astor said, “what it will mean if I win this battle? Luna will lose the Heart. Titan’s kingdom will have double the population of Terra’s. And I will have done it. Celestia will—”

“Celestia? That’s what this is about?”

“That’s what everything is about, Valiant. She made me!”

The muscles in Valiant’s neck stood out against his skin. “She despises you!” Valiant shouted.

Astor drew back. “W-w-what?” she said, hating herself for stammering.

“I spoke to her a week ago, Astor. She’s in the Heart.”

“She isn’t,” Astor said, shaking her head. “I would know.”

“Princess Celestia hates this war, Astor. She hates killing ponies. I don’t even think she wants Luna to die. You’re doing the work she doesn’t want to do, and she hates that too. She doesn’t want a little monster, Astor. She wants a sister.”

“Liar,” Astor whispered. “You want to kill Firkraag. You want to slay the dragon, save the village, and get the magic sword. And you’d take my moment of triumph from me to do it.”

“You think that’s what this is about? Two thousand ponies and you think I want a sword?”

“Your village is going to die, Valiant. And there’s nothing you can do about it. Get out of my way.”

Valiant looked at her. “You can’t do this, Astor. You aren’t a god. You’re a seventeen year old orphan filly with a—”

“Get out of my way!” Astor hit him with a hammer blow of telekinesis, and he was thrown against the wall before crumpling to the floor. She began to leave.

“Monster,” Valiant said, coughing. “You. Little. Monster.”

Astor stopped, but didn’t turn around. “I’m surprised it took you so long, Valiant,” she said. “To see what the whole world already knows.”

Astor had the power to destroy.

Tendons snapped as Astor tore a hoof-blade out of an earthpony’s neck, and blood spurted onto her face. She spun and sheared another enemies head off his shoulders with Sangrophile, indulging in the thrill of mortal combat. With a thrum of magic energy, her discs left her side to slice more ponies to ribbons.

Astor leapt back into the fray, breaking Sangrophile and launching its blademotes into three more soldiers. She yanked the motes upwards, and each tore its way out of the top of her enemies in a miniature fountain of blood. Another pegasus came at her, and Astor blocked his foreleg with a hoof-blade. He screamed as his flesh sizzled against the superheated metal. He screamed louder when she drove its twin into his stomach and twisted.

A nearby pony began to give orders. Astor wanted chaos. She teleported into the center of his abdominal cavity. He made no sound as his vital organs were torn asunder, and bits of pony were flung violently onto his men as Astor emerged. Without hesitation, she sent twenty blade-motes into the surprised enemies. Each of them exploded, and much more than twenty soldiers died. The enemies began to break form and run. Astor had been right; these weren’t trained soldiers. These were peasants.

She moved on. A retreating force was as good as dead, and Astor was not about to run out of enemies to kill anytime soon.

Her second mind caught any attack that came her way. Her first mind was dedicated to killing ponies as quickly as she possibly could. It was easy for her, really—ponies were incredibly fragile creatures. She could have killed them with her hooves. She didn’t though, that would be too slow. And it was no fun when they stayed in one piece.

Pegasi fell out of the air to splatter on the ground around her as she tore her enemies apart. She had to use a spell to keep her mane out of her eyes after it and her coat became slick with blood. Rarely did Astor get to treat herself to such a prolonged amount of time in the the field.

Every pony gave her the same look before they died. It was fear, obviously, but fear came in many different forms. It wasn’t the fear of a bigger, more powerful pony—Astor knew that fear. It was closer to, but still not quite, the fear of a hurricane or an earthquake. It was the same way Astor imagined the villagers would look up at Firkraag as he came to devour them. It was the fear of a monster.

Astor reveled in the bloodletting. She forgot about Valiant, and even what he had said about Celestia. She stopped worrying about victory, or even her own troops. They were well trained to work with each other as a unit. They would serve their purpose.

Her senses in combat were keen, and Astor knew that it had been nigh on an hour by the time she first started to tire. Oddly, it was never the ache in her muscles that told her that her strength was fading, or even the strain on her minds. She wouldn’t notice it if her pace didn’t slow. This time, she took a blademote across a shoulder.

She rewarded her attacker by slicing him neatly into at least seven pieces, painting the world around them crimson. She tossed a set of conjured chains at an enemy magical talent, then teleported behind him and drove two hoof-blades into his spine. His cartilage sizzled and popped around the hot metal before she kicked him off of the blades and onto the ground. A javelin came her way, and she used her magic to push it back along its course, skewering a pegasus through their collarbone and out their flank.

Astor felt a rough, dry pain in her throat, and she realized she had been screaming the word “die” for near on twenty minutes.

Astor killed and killed again, punishing her enemies for daring to make war against war’s one true master. But for every pony she killed, another would take their place. She found herself tiring more with every kill. She couldn’t stop, though: her strategy depended on this section of Luna’s army putting out a weak offense. Every soldier she didn’t kill or send fleeing in terror was one that her own forces had to deal with.

Her opponents took note of her sluggishness, and the small number of minor wounds she had accumulated. It gave them hope, and they pressed the attack more often than not. Astor found herself surrounded, dedicating far more time and effort to defending herself than committing murder. She wondered briefly if she would die. It seemed like such a preposterous idea. She couldn’t die. Not her. Not to ponies.

Celestia’s arrival could not have been better timed. Her entrance was not grand or showy; she simply landed on the ground next to Astor and said in her divine voice, “Fire.”

Astor called up hellfire. Celestia called down sunfire. Together they cleared the area around them in a matter of seconds. At the sight of Celestia, the enemies began to flee.

“You are too deep in the enemy lines, Astor Coruscare. This was a risk even for you.”

“I deemed it necessary, Princess,” Astor said. “If Luna’s forces fail to break through my left, she will have lost much of her advantage.” She eyed the Princess carefully, trying to detect any hint of pride, or anger, but with Celestia it was always too hard to tell.

“You abandoned your command,” Celestia said.

“I deemed them competent enough to act in my absence. My value on the field cannot be ignored.” No doubt Celestia knew it was true; she must have seen the bodies.

Celestia tilted her head. “Are you alright, Astor? You’re covered in blood.”

The question took Astor by surprise. Celestia had never asked her if she was okay before. “Yes,” Astor answered, smiling. “Yes, I am.” Covered in blood. It slid down her face in warm rivulets and soaked her mane. “Now, on to the work at hoof?” She gestured to the fleeing soldiers with Sangrophile.

“Of course,” Celestia said.

Astor had never fought with the Princess before. Now was her chance to show Celestia just how much she’d learned. How worthy she was.

Astor went in first, reinvigorated by Celestia’s presence.She hacked several ponies to bits before Celestia caught up with her, then threw her discs into the throng to collect more blood. Celestia would see what she was capable of. Astor would make sure of it.

Killing came so naturally to them that Astor could scarce believe they had never fought together before. Celestia would attract the attention of the enemy soldiers, drawing their eye with her godlike countenance. She’d deflect or outright ignore their attacks, never slowing. Astor would blink in and out of their ranks, slaughtering them by the handful before anypony noticed her presence.

They were perfect together. Astor wished it could have lasted longer. Unfortunately, her own forces overtook them after little more than a quarter hour had passed.

“We’ve won,” Astor said through ragged breaths. A smile crept over her face. “I killed them by the hundreds.”

Celestia looked around them at the field of corpses. “Yes,” she said. “You did. You did exactly what I taught you to do.”

“Princess?” Astor asked. “Is something wrong?”

Celestia looked away. “Clean yourself up, Astor Coruscare.” With that, she spread her wings and took flight.

Astor stormed into Celestia’s chambers, slamming the door shut behind her with magic. “You have been—” She froze. Standing over Celestia, not ten feet away from Astor, was the King.

Gravity could not have brought her to her knees quickly enough. “Your Majesty,” she said. She turned to Celestia. “Please, Princess, forgive my indiscretion. I had thought one of my underlings was intruding in your chamber.”

King Titan turned his gaze toward her, and for the first time in her life, Astor got a good look at the King of the world. His irises glowed with an inner white light. His mane was made of nebulous white ether that stretched down his neck and across the tips of his wings.

When he looked at her, Astor felt an inexplicable fear. Not the fear of a pony, or even of a monster, but of something stranger. It was the fear of death’s inevitability and the fathomless dark of the deepest ocean. Astor had just accomplished the crowning achievement of her lifetime, and Titan made her feel insignificant.

She didn’t know how it was possible—she was warded against invasive mind magics. She also had no idea how she wasn’t able to sense Titan before entering the room. A being of his power should have been impossible not to detect from miles away.

Now she was in very real danger. From what she had heard, King Titan would not think twice about executing her for a simple breach in conduct. And he could, too. Astor could kill ponies by the hundreds. Titan could kill them cities at a time.

“Repeat thyself, pony,” Titan said. Astor cringed. Celestia rarely used her divine voice in full, but when she did the effect was almost musical. Titan’s made her mind feel as though it was chewing rocks.

“I...” Astor began. “Princess Celestia was absent from her council, so I sent a runner to request her presence. I assumed that he entered her Royal Highness’s rooms without permission to look for her. He had done so once in the past.”

“Interesting,” Titan said. “We cannot tell if thou art being dishonest. Where didst thou findest her, Celestia?”

“An orphanage,” Celestia answered. “We know nothing of her origins. They were considered... unimportant.”

Titan tilted his head slightly to one side as he looked at Astor. “Relinquish the hold on thine form, pony.”

Astor hesitated. If Titan wanted to kill her, he wouldn’t need to use magic. Still, unicorns never released their own bodies. The hold was intrinsic; stopping it would be like stopping her own heartbeat. She did as she was told.

Immediately, Astor was enveloped in the King’s telekinesis and lifted into the air so that she was at his eye level. He began to spin her around slowly, examining her.

“Tell us, pony,” Titan said. “Who were thine parents?”

“I don’t know, Your Majesty,” Astor said as she was spun upside down. “They were killed at the outset of the war.”

“Thine name?”

“Astor Coruscare, Your Majesty.”

“Coruscare,” Titan said. “Did thine parents leave thee anything?”

Astor briefly recalled burning Clarion Call’s rattle, so many years ago. “No,” she said. “Nothing.”

“Indeed,” Titan said. Astor felt a ripple of magic travel through her body. “The hoof of a god is in thee, Astor Coruscare. Thou art no simple unicorn.” He dropped her unceremoniously to the floor, and Astor grunted involuntarily.

Titan turned to Celestia. “Have a capable stallion impregnate her within the season. Deliver the infant to us when it is born. Beyond this she is forbidden to have children. Find any of her living relatives and sterilize or destroy them. Have we made ourselves clear?”

Celestia nodded immediately. “Yes, my king.”

“And execute the pony who has entered your chambers in the past.” Titan’s horn glowed, and the ceiling was broken into hundreds of bricks that were pulled apart and suspended in thin air. He left, shooting skywards and sealing the ceiling behind him.

“I don’t understand,” Astor whispered from her place on the floor.

“He and Terra play a game that is beyond you or I, Astor.”

“But a child?” Astor asked. “Why?”

“I don’t know, Astor. But we need to convince him that you are dead. We’ll kill you in battle, and you’ll leave the army and go into hiding.”

“No,” Astor said.

“What?”

“No,” Astor repeated. “I’ll do it.”

Celestia’s gave her a look of horror. “You would give him your newborn child?”

“Yes,” Astor said. “My place is here, with the army.”

“No, Astor,” Celestia said. “It would be monstrous.”

“And I’m your little monster!” Astor cried. “I don’t want children, I want to be by your side!”

“I know what you want!” Celestia shouted. “You think I didn’t encourage it? You think I didn’t use you with it? I am immortal, Astor!” Celestia shook her head. “A village of two thousand, dead. And today I saw you, hacking them apart, grinning.”

Astor took a step back. “You were with me,” she said. “It’s what you wanted from me.”

Celestia closed her eyes. “Ponykind deserves more than what I have done to you, Astor. I’ve turned you into a monster.”

“No,” Astor said, shaking her head. “No. I’ve done everything you wanted and more. I’m your most trusted lieutenant! I’m supposed to kill your sister.”

“I’m sorry, Astor,” Celestia said. “I cannot tell you how sorry I am for what I have done to you. But you cannot be my lieutenant any longer. You must leave the army and live your own life.”

“No!” Astor shouted. “This is what I want! Better a monster than a pony!”

“I’m sorry, Astor. You have to leave.”

“But you,” Astor said, her voice cracking. “You adopted me.”

“I conscripted you. I’m sorry, As—”

“No!” Astor screamed. The two parts of Sangrophile flared into life around her. Before she realized what she was doing, she was swinging them at Celestia. “Stop. Saying. That!”

Zenith met Sangrophile, but Celestia had not been Astor’s match for years. Astor broke Celestia’s guard with ease, forcing her against the wall. She crossed her blades over Celestia’s neck.

“Tell me again!” Astor screamed as tears burned against her face. “That you’re immortal!”

Celestia shut her eyes. “Astor...”

“Lieutenant,” Astor said. “And you won’t do this to me. You can’t just take back everything you taught me. You can’t just undo what you made me. I’m your little monster, Your Highness, and I’ll win this war and kill your sister even if I have to drown ponykind in its own blood.

“And you,” she said, pressing her blades into Celestia’s neck. “You are going to rule when I am done. I will give you the world. And you, Celestia. You’re going to love me.”

Astor vanished.

“You were right,” Astor said as she appeared in Valiant’s rooms. “She despises me.”

From the looks of things, Valiant had been packing. He stood when Astor entered. “Astor?” he asked. “Are you crying?”

Astor realized that she was. “She can’t even look at me,” she said, turning away. “I tried to kill her.”

“What?”

“No,” Astor said, turning back to Valiant. “I didn’t try.” If she had, Celestia would be dead. “But I threatened her.”

“You didn’t,” Valiant said. He began to pace. “You have to go back. You have to apologize. Princess Celestia is reasonable.”

“No, Valiant. She wants me to go into hiding. She wants the world to forget me. But I won’t let her. I won’t be remembered as the pony who named a scale.”

“What happened to doing whatever Celestia told you to?”

Astor put a hoof to her temple. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing!” she shouted. “This war will go on for decades without me! I need you,” she said to Valiant. “Bring me a list of the ten strongest stallions in the army. They have to be unicorns.”

“Astor,” Valiant said. “What are you talking about?”

“I have to have a child,” she said. “I need to—” She swallowed. “Get pregnant. My suitor will have to be a unicorn of considerable strength.”

“You leave a village of two thousand ponies to die,” Valiant said, “and you expect me to find a stallion for you to take to bed? You’re out of your mind.”

“What was I supposed to do, Valiant? Turn the entire army around and lose the Heart. Fail Celestia? I am Lieutenant Coruscare, Valiant. Do you think that any part of my position requires me to value pony life? Does it surprise you so much that I am what I am?”

“I know you,” he said. “You aren’t a monster. Stop talking about children and go to sleep, Astor. I’m not making you any list.”

“Why not?” Astor asked. “Jealous?”

“What?”

“Come now, Valiant. I know what you want. So does Celestia—or did you think it was a coincidence that she put us together? Yes, Valiant Coruscare, you would make me powerful children indeed.”

Valiant gritted his teeth. “I am the strongest male unicorn in this army, Astor. You know that. You wouldn’t need a list.”

“You think so?” Astor said. “I’ve never seen you fight a real foe, Valiant. Have you ever even killed anypony? All you ever do is go on about making the world a better place. But you never will.”

“I don’t want you,” Valiant said. “Not anymore.”

“With or without you, this is going to happen,” Astor

“Don’t do this, Astor. You’re acting insane.”

“You want me,” Astor said. “You’ve followed me for years, Valiant. You don’t want to make the world a better place, you want to make me a better pony. You want to fix me. Well this is your chance. You’re a knight, so prove yourself—slay some of my enemies and call it a quest.” Astor turned towards the door. “Except you can’t,” she said as she left. “I already got them all.”

Astor woke up the next morning and decided that she was crazy.

She was a staunch advocate of using logic; and her actions the previous day truly had no logical explanation. She’d left an entire village to burn in dragonfire. That made sense; it was easy to defend her decision from a tactical viewpoint. It was even easier to blame Celestia: the Princess had never taught her any sort of ethical code. It was, and had always been, victory at any cost.

Still, Astor knew that by almost any pony’s standards what she had done was evil. Indefensible, even. How would her soldiers think of her when they learned what she had done? Coupled with the heavy losses they’d sustained in battle, Astor doubted she’d be their favorite commander for long.

Celestia despised her. Celestia, who had given her a home. Astor had done everything the Princess wanted and more, but apparently Celestia no longer wanted a useful tool. Astor wondered what Celestia did want, if not her.

She’d threatened to kill her Princess, which was truly absurd. In hindsight, her actions weren’t so surprising. It had been a stressful day. Astor had cracked.

And now she was left to pick up the pieces. Valiant would need an apology, as would Celestia. Displaying humility would almost definitely win them back over to her side; it would bring her more in line with the pony they wished her to be. It would mean they were winning. She decided to start with Valiant. No doubt after she had taunted him he had gone off to sulk someplace within the camp.

She tried not to think about the baby as she got out of bed. Above all other things, it bothered her the most that she had been willing to give Titan a child. What would the Astor Coruscare from the orphanage think, to see her so willingly abandon an infant? Something along the lines of monster, to be sure.

Astor was a monster; there were two thousand dead ponies of Saddleburg to attest to that. But without Celestia, that was all that she was. A masterless monster. What was the point anymore?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her door. A glance at the clock told Astor that she had slept in almost two hours. She didn’t mind; she’d earned it. “Enter,” she said, swinging open her door with a touch of magic.

“Ma’am!” the runner said, standing at attention. “Sir Valiant has returned to the army. He has requested your presence outside.”

Astor began to dress. “Valiant left the army?”

The runner raised his eyebrows. “Yes, ma’am. He said he was carrying out your orders. We did not think to question a Knight Commander of the Natural Order.”

“My orders,” Astor said. Prove yourself. Slay some of my enemies and call it a quest.

Astor blinked out to the center of the camp and began to look around frantically for Valiant. A large group of ponies was crowded around something, and she reasoned that was her best bet. “Valiant!” she shouted as tried to push her way through the crowd. “Valiant!” The ponies around her weren’t budging.

Astor let out an exasperated sigh. “I am Astor Coruscare!” she shouted.

Every pony close by immediately turned to face her, then backed away. Silence descended over the crowd of ponies as Astor slowly strode to their center. The crowd broke to reveal Valiant.

He was covered in blood. Burns ran along one side of his face and down his neck. He had removed his harness and turned it into a cord, which he was using to drag a massive red dragon’s head.

He’d slain the dragon Firkraag. Alone.

Astor shook her head. “Not possible,” she said. “You told me only Luna could fight Firkraag or Exakktus.”

Valiant nodded. “When two beings come into conflict, Astor,” he said. “It is more than power that determines who lives and who dies.”

“How?” Astor said.

Valiant shrugged. “It’s a secret. One you wouldn’t want to hear anyway. Now,” he said. “You know the old language. What is the word for ‘slayer?’”

Astor stared at him. “Carsomyr,” she whispered at last. “Sir Valiant Carsomyr.”

Fourteen shards of what Astor could only assume was thunderbolt platinum tore their way from Firkraag’s severed head and assembled before Valiant. “Carsomyr can be the name of my blade,” he said. “I would rather be Valiant Coruscare.” He fell to his knees.

Astor could scarcely understand what was happening. Valiant was supposed to be weak. Yet he’d slain a dragon that even Luna hesitated to meet in combat. And now...

Held aloft by Valiant’s magic, a single blue diamond floated towards her. When it was halfway between them, several shards of Carsomyr shot through the air, and pieces of the gem fell away to reveal a four-pointed star. Astor’s cutie mark.

Valiant looked past the gem and into Astor’s eyes. “Marry me.”

Terra was in mortal danger. It wasn’t something that happened to alicorns often. It wouldn’t be happening now, were it not for the fact that Titan was fighting Discord high above them, under the black sky.

Celestia caught her hoof and struck Terra in the chest. The air was forced out of Terra’s lungs as she was sent flying backwards. Zenith pursued her, over a dozen points of white-hot light. Celestia followed it.

Terra rolled to her feet and split Exogenesis to deflect her daughter’s blade. Celestia touched down in front of her, pivoting to kick out with her hind legs, and Terra ducked beneath them before lashing out with her forelegs.

Her daughter caught them, broke them, then smashed her head against Terra’s. Celestia’s speed, coupled with her strange ability to know what Terra was about to do, was proving irksome. Yes, Terra thought, you’re winning because you’re smarter, Celestia. Tear my hind leg off, just like that. Watch my blade flicker and die against yours. Nevermind your extra century and a half of power. You’re just that smart.

The first biological imperative was survival. All Terra needed to do was stay alive as long as possible. Titan would send Discord away just as he had before. Then he would find her. He always found her. He had said as much, when he made her his wife.

Terra fastened her leg back onto her body, then backed up until she found more even footing on which to duel Celestia. She kept Exogenesis close to her body, wary of any tricks that Celestia might try and pull. At this point, hurting Celestia was out of the question. Survive.

She did. Zenith came at her again and again, but Terra endured. She was burned, broken, and torn apart on more than one occasion, but she always got back up. For all of Celestia’s maneuvering, she didn’t manage to kill Terra. It was too difficult a thing to do when Terra was focused completely on staying alive.

Finally, Titan descended once again.

Something was wrong, though. Titan didn’t speed through the air—he fell. He didn’t land on the rock beneath them so much as he crashed into it, thudding dully against the stone before coming to rest. Terra and Celestia both stopped to look at him: he had landed only several dozen feet from their position. Titan struggled to take a single, ragged breath. Celestia’s eyes widened as she turned back to Terra.

With a brilliant explosion of light, Celestia hit Terra with another beam of sunfire. Terra managed to shield against most of the blow, but was still thrown backwards. Too late, she realized what Celestia was going to do. Terra took to the air to see Celestia standing next to their father. “No,” she breathed.

Her pegasus eyes saw all. Zenith was plunged into Titan’s chest, aiming directly for his heart. It sunk into his body: six inches, a foot, two feet. Terra sped towards them, but she was too slow. Celestia was killing him.

Titan rolled onto his belly, ignoring Zenith as his motion caused the blade to nearly cleave him in half. Singularity darkened the space between he and Celestia. Celestia looked up from Titan to his blade, and for once, the expression on her face was an honest one: surprise.

Titan thrust his blade forward, and Celestia screamed as her chest collapsed around the length of pure darkness. Terra landed near them and looked on in fascination.

“To think,” Titan said through labored breaths, “that you would die so easily. That for all your machinations I need only play dead to destroy you.”

Singularity pulsed, pulling Celestia farther onto the blade. She choked, and a trickle of black ichor ran out of the corner of her mouth and down her chin.

“It is over, Celestia,” Titan said. “This is the end.”

-

The antepenultimate chapter of The Immortal Game, Friendship is Magic, will be linked Wednesday, May 9th.

Ponies Make War is getting a title change! Next week it will update as The Immortal Game, with an all new description as well. Read more about the change here.