Chapter One: The Pain Behind Her Eyes
The Death of Perfection
Chapter One: The Pain Behind Her Eyes
Soft, assured, and beaming from ear-to-ear, a very delighted voice greeted Twilight’s delicate ears as the warm glow of her magic receded into the star-strewn air about her; it took her a moment to realize that it was none other than Princess Celestia.
“Congratulations, Twilight! I knew you could do it!” Celestia stood in all her glory, gorgeous wings raised wide as if to welcome Twilight to her side. Twilight could hardly understand what was going on, mumbling something to that effect in Celestia’s general direction.
My dear Twilight, came the internal musings of the heavenly alicorn, just when I thought I couldn’t possibly love you any more than I already do, you go and make that adorable face. When your muzzle crinkles like that, your eyebrows furrowed . . . Oh, it’s all I can do not to kiss you!
Celestia, for her part, was smiling proudly at her protégé, gently chiding herself at her slight pause as she contemplated her feelings for Twilight. There would be time enough for that later. Now, it was all-important to Celestia that this evening be absolutely perfect for her sweet Twilight!
The small unicorn before her snuggled into a hug, timidly asking “What did I do?” Eyes fraught with worry, Twilight chewed her lip as she gazed up at her teacher.
Smile widening even more so, Celestia explained that she had done something nopony had ever done before, “. . . something that even a great unicorn like Starswirl the Bearded was not able to do,” Celestia magicked a familiar tome into being beside her as she spoke. “. . . because he did not understand friendship like you do. The lessons you’ve learned here in Ponyville have taught you well. You have proven that you’re ready, Twilight.”
“Ready . . ?” Twilight’s eyes took on a slightly panicked sheen as she tried to finish her sentence. “Ready for what?”
Celestia turned, then, so that she and Twilight could see the many moments magically replaying before them amidst the stars. Walking now, she answered by way of a gorgeous melody. Unbeknownst to her, Twilight was awestruck and dumbfounded all over again as the lovely voice of the Princess cascaded around her, making her heart soar, the world stop. The only thing she saw was Celestia; the stars, the memories, they faded away like morning dew in the grass. The only things that mattered were beautiful, sparkling magenta eyes and her ethereally wispy alto tones.
Twilight sighed, her shoulders visibly shuddering as the great sound escaped her lips. It had been quite a while ago, now, since she’d become an alicorn princess. She was just settling into her new role as the Princess of Friendship, and matters had been made more complicated by the destruction of the Golden Oak Library. Fortunately, that problem had been solved by the magical harmony chest spontaneously creating a new palace for Twilight to live in. Even so . . . It just wasn’t the same.
The small alicorn ran a forehoof through her mane, absentmindedly gazing toward Canterlot as she leaned her body over the edge of her bedroom balcony. Oh, Celestia, she sighed again, thinking of her . . . less-than-amicable feelings towards the brilliant and beautiful elder mare. She certainly didn’t wish her any harm . . . Well, not really. She just wanted to . . . to do terrible things to her. Terribly wonderful?
Oh, Celestia, help me! Why am I thinking such awful things? Yet another sigh punctuated the marked silence. I just . . . Oh, I can’t help but love you! Is that so wrong?
At just that moment, a puff of green dragon flame appeared mere inches from her face, hovering just out of reach over the balcony railing. Flexing the muscle group between her shoulders, she unfurled her wings from her sides and leaped into the air and over the edge, grabbing the floating scroll in her mouth as she flew once, twice, around and up over her crystalline tree-palace. Certainly Twilight could have simply grabbed the letter with her magic, but what fun would that be? She was just finally starting to not be terrible at flying, and she rather enjoyed it now.
Giggling contentedly as she alighted upon the safety of her private chambers, Twilight removed her burden from her teeth by means of her softly-glowing horn, now larger than it had been prior to her ascension, and plopped down onto an extremely lavish beanbag. Tucking her legs underneath her in an undeniably comfortable position, she hummed to herself as she set about unfurling the scroll she’d been sent. It read:
Dear Twilight Sparkle,
I hope this letter finds you well. I am so proud of your recent elevation in status, and could not be happier for you. However, I also know that a great deal of responsibility and headache come from the honor of being among the peerage of “Princess”, and I can only imagine how difficult a transition you must now be navigating.
While I wish this letter were all for pleasantry, “catching up”, as they say now, that is not so. I am happy to help you in any way you may need, or simply to “hang out” and be your friend, if you’d like, but I’m afraid that I have something to ask of you.
For a while now, perhaps a few months, my sister has been very, well . . . off, you see. I cannot determine the cause of this, this wrongness, but it is very troubling. It is nearly imperceptible, too. She will not acknowledge that anything is amiss, and seems to be doing fine otherwise.
The simple fact of the matter is, I have been gone from my sister’s life for a millenia. I was once so very close to her, but, now, no matter how much better our relationship is . . . I simply do not know her best anymore. My dear Twilight Sparkle, that distinction belongs to you.
If it is not too much trouble, it would be greatly appreciated if you would come back to Canterlot for a short while. I understand that your life is in Ponyville now, but this is a matter of great importance to me, and, I hope, to you as well.
Please write me back at once, one way or another. Any advice or suggestions, even in lieu of your presence here at the castle, is sorely needed.
Your friend always,
Princess Luna
Twilight’s heart skipped a beat. She was closest to Princess Celestia? Really?! She re-read the note a dozen more times before the reality of the situation sunk in. Finally, an elated grin permeating even her voice, she yelled “Spike!”
Bags under weary eyes, mane a mess of tangles (in spite of its astral qualities), Celestia set about making her morning tea. She rubbed her temples gingerly, worry lines showing, ever so faintly, as her age began to catch up with her. Luna had been acting strangely lately, almost . . . almost giddy, as she always did whenever plotting something. Whatever it was, Celestia didn’t care. She was too old to deal with her foalish younger sister anymore.
Out of nowhere, in the blue light of dawn, no less, a knock came on the door of her private quarters. Celestia scowled, fitting her crown and regalia onto herself earlier than she hoped to that morning. It was always something, wasn’t it?
Straightening her posture and donning her ever-present smile, her bags and wrinkles disappeared as she opened the door. Of course. It was just Luna.
Celestia visibly shrunk, her back hunching into a slouch, eyes narrowing into daggerous slits. “Luna! Why have you come here? Shouldn’t you already be asleep?”
Cheerily, Luna made a show of bopping her elder sister’s nose with a fine svelte hoof. “Sister!” she exclaimed, pointedly ignoring Celestia’s mounting rage. “Good morning! No, today I will stay awake, at least until our niece, Cadance, arrives. Joyous news, cakebutt!” At this Luna stuck out her tongue, eying the offending, plump posterior with such mirth Celestia was near seething. “Due to your excessive age and tiredness, Cadance and I have arranged to give you some much-needed time off. Shining Armor will look after the Crystal Empire on his own for however long we need, while Cadance and I will manage Canterlot here for you!”
At this, Celestia just stared in amazement, her mouth agape in total shock. “You’re joking, right?”
“Sister! Never!” Luna held her hooves to her heart, mock pain gripping her features. “I am simply trying to make you happy. And, for goodness sake,” she smiled wryly, “Those age lines are ever so unbecoming. How can I have any fun when you look like that?!”
And, without further ado, Luna stuck her tongue out at Celestia, scampering out down the corridor after swiftly hitting the alabaster, cake-proportioned rump in front of her. Celestia, too stunned to move, was torn between going into all-out attack mode and exploding after her little sister or buying her a cake of her own. Before she could decide, Luna’s head popped back into view in the far distance.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Luna called. “Twilight Sparkle will be here by noon!” And with that she vanished once again, certainly prancing about on her merry way, more proud of herself than any silly filly Celestia had ever seen.
Cake. Definitely cake. Celestia decided. And maybe just a little bit on the fattening side.
Sitting with her head held on a hoof as she rested an elbow on the edge of one of the garden’s many fountains, Celestia hummed quietly to herself. Certainly, she pondered, she’d hoped Twilight would succeed in igniting the spark inside of her very soul, but it was up to Twilight herself to make that happen. Celestia could only guide her. And . . . And love her along the way . . . Celestia found herself daydreaming about things that had happened, and what might still be.
Oh, to be sure, Celestia had loved Twilight from the very beginning. It had started out innocently; the love of an old mare for an adorable little filly, then the love of a teacher for a dear student, blossoming into the love of friendship . . . Finally, silently, then with all the speed of a falling comet after years and years of sharing her time and knowledge with the dear, sweet filly, love, true love, the kind of love that ponies dreamt about since foalhood, search lifetimes for, even die for if they were so lucky as to find it . . . That kind of love had sprouted roots and taken up residence in Celestia’s sad, old, tired heart.
Celestia chided herself mentally. First, what was all this nonsense about loving Twilight? Certainly it could never be. It was . . . It was wrong, wasn’t it? To love a former student, who she had known, taught, and even lived with since foalhood? But, the more Celestia thought about it, the more unsure she became.
I’ve been around for thousands of years, the astral goddess mused. I haven’t been anything inappropriate to Twilight at all in her youth or even adolescence. She is a fully-matured adult mare now, and she can make her own life decisions. And . . . And it’s not as though it’s likely she has any romantic notions for her tired old teacher. But . . . But, just for a moment . . . Say that she did. Well . . . She’s an alicorn now. She’ll live as long as I will; we are an eternal race.
The thought made Celestia’s heart skip a beat. It was . . . It was very difficult to live this long. Ponies died all around you. No one was ever permanent, or even made a lasting mark. Everything was so terribly transient. That was part of why she’d sent Twilight to live in Ponyville, to avoid the same mistakes she’d made. She became so bitter and engrossed in her own pain, she forgot how meaningful, how worth it friendship was, and, as a result, had none herself. She wanted Twilight to know the joys of friendship even if she didn’t, and to enjoy the company of others who would live as long as she would.
But now . . . Now, Twilight would live as long as she, herself. Celestia felt the final walls around her cold, tired, old heart finally falling down around her, summer sunlight beginning to seep in after a long, frigid winter. Maybe, she cooed to herself, maybe I can find happiness, true happiness, after all.
It wasn’t long after that quiet reverie that Twilight found her way to Celestia in the lovely midsummer gardens. The two greeted each other with warm hugs, smiling and laughing at how Twilight had grown. But, even though her smile betrayed nothing, Celestia’s eyes, so exhausted and, and . . . so sad, and the lines around those lovely magenta orbs, the wrinkles creasing her brow ever so slightly, spoke volumes. Twilight saw all of it, and made a mental note about the hollowness that replaced the soft, tinkling sound of bells in Celestia’s voice. Oh, she would get to the bottom of this, alright. And maybe, just maybe, she could find a thing or two to make Celestia truly happy again.
Or maybe she was just being decidedly gross and just plain wrong.
Author's Note
Well! I had a lot of fun writing this. I drew a lot of elements from a lot of places, most notably this journal as well as this story. I would also highly recommend checking out my favorites on my user page, especially those in the box marked "Top Favorites". I really love the way that Luna, in particular, is depicted in the stories I've highlighted, and I think they're definitely worth reading. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, and I will update as soon as I have time to write again~
Chapter Two: And in that Moment . . .
The Death of Perfection
Chapter Two: In that Moment . . .
Stormy visages crossed the light princess’ mind as she viewed her reflection in the mirror. Why was she suddenly looking so damned old? she wondered. In the back of her mind, she was sure that something, other than her, had to be not-quite-right. Then again . . . That may just be my vanity talking.
Well, enough of that for one morning. It was a beautiful mid-July day. Certainly she wouldn’t let a few wrinkles spoil a day off, let alone one with her beloved Twilight Spark—
And, once again, Celestia found herself inwardly fuming at herself. What was this nonsense about her loving Twilight Sparkle? Oh, sure, she was a talented, brilliant, studious, amazing, gorgeous mare . . . Oh, no! Not again!
Without any mercy for the flustered princess, a swift knock came at her door. Oh, fiddles. “Yes?” called Celestia, addressing her guardsponies outside. “What is it, Sun Spear? Long Shadow?”
“Your Highness, Princess Celestia,” began Long Shadow; “Twilight Sparkle requests your presence in the dining room at 10 a.m. this morning,” finished Sun Spear. Celestia laughed lightly at the two friends, always finishing one another’s sentences. It was quite amusing to hear, as Sun Spear’s voice was airy and tenorous, if high-pitched, while Long Shadow had a beautiful baritone, nay, bass way of speaking. Oh, and sometimes the two would hum, or even, blessedly, sing! Barber shop duets, they shared to pass the time away . . . It was truly amazing, their talent and excellent fit.
“Highness?” a breathy, bright voice ventured. “Princess Celestia, it’s a quarter ‘til 10 o’clock,” the honey-thick, though tentative, reminder came.
Double fiddles. A not-so-princessly harumph could scarcely be heard through Celestia’s door, and, for that, she was very glad on that particular morning.
Yawning and stretching, Twilight waited patiently, due in no small part to the book under her nose, for the princess to arrive. She was early, yes, but they’d made plans to reconvene here, at this time, yesterday evening. It was very unusual for Twilight to ever beat Princess Celestia anywhere.
On that note, Twilight was very concerned. Of course Celestia had taken care of raising the Sun, as was her duty, but . . . She never went back to bed after raising the Sun. Never. Twilight plaintively searched her memory, finding countless examples of 4 a.m. wake-up calls so she could begin studying with the princess a half hour later. Then again, maybe she just needed to sleep in today?
But, still. That internal clock of hers had to have something wrong with it. It had to.
It wasn’t long afterward that Celestia meandered her way into the dining room. Bags clearly visible under her eyes, wrinkles blatant upon her brow, and mane a mess of tangles and frizz, she plopped down opposite Twilight.
Eyes wide in undisguised horror, Twilight’s lilac fur grew ashen. She had never, in all of her years studying under the princess, seen her mentor in this . . . This utter disarray.
Yes, Twilight nodded to herself, Something is definitely wrong. Luna was right to be so concerned.
Hidden from any scrying eyes, as it were, by a vast amount of unfathomably ancient and powerful dark magic, a lone pony sat upon a throne made of all manner of equine fossils. A plethora of skulls jutted out to make foreleg rests, femurs and small joints of all manner lined the seat, and every other bone imaginable cradled a hideous stallion in a loving, disgusting heart of seemingly still-rotting enemy trophies. That stallion was massive, larger even than Celestia, even despite a battered and crippled back leg.
With eyes of awful, stagnant swamp water, or perhaps the roiling blood of an ogre, or (worse still), the tainted hue of a mindless, deadly gelatinous ooze, eyes that shone the worst shade of whatever green they happened to settle upon (for they were forever shifting according to the light and how one viewed them, never staying the same shade for long), he searched the darkness of his Tomb. Oh, his Tomb had once been a true tomb, long ago, when a foalish pair of nearly-twin princesses had robbed him of his glory, banished him for his great and vast power.
And what right did they have? To banish him, the greatest of all alicorns in might and power?! Him, the most awesome and venerable Prince of Undeath?! And simply because his was a talent of necromancy, a command over life and death, over balance, over existence itself?! These were reasons to be loved and feared, but not hated!
He seethed in black fury, as endless in depth and hate as the Tomb that now made itself his womb.
Turning his ill-pleasing, dark, almost imperceptibly purple head, the wretched form of Hedon the Dead Speaker lurched to its undying hooves. His head a mess of dark grey brain matter falling out of a cracked and jagged skull, limp, stringy silver mane falling down around the centuries-old wound, now frozen forever in time, and his mouth twisting up to reveal a sickening combination of missing and, alternatively, moldy, horribly rotten and yellow-green teeth, the stallion lurched toward the large, glowing orb before his throne of horrors.
Muted, the dull and eerie luminescence of the crystal ball matching that which surrounded his horn, added a faint yellowish-brown haze to the scene. He chuckled softly to himself as the eternal youth of Celestia, the so-called Sun Goddess of Equestria, faded quietly into the ever-flowing river of time. Yes, Hedon veritably cackled aloud now, soon, my pretty one, I will have you yet. No one can deny me. Alive, perhaps . . . But this is easily remedied. At this he stomped his splintering forehoof into the ground for emphasis, the sound of bones crunching drifting pleasantly to his tattered ears.
Ooh, yes, my love. You may have denied me while I was in life, but in eternal undeath, you can never resist me. And so, I will crush you, and then I will have you, my—oh, my! Hedon gasped, staring in awe at the beautiful alicorn that came into view of his scrying spell. She had the loveliest lavender coat, a silky-looking violet mane, and the most becoming fuschia stripe lining the side of her horn. She was breathtaking.
Oh. Oh, no. Oh, this is too perfect! Hedon lost himself to another cackle of satisfaction. Oh, how positively perfect! This mare is obviously close to that damned Celestia. And she outshines even the Sun in beauty! His eyes lit up once more, quickly spotting the connecting lines just as if they were constellations written in the sky. I wager it will hurt that so-called “goddess” more than any wound I could ever inflict upon her to see me have her. I will have her as my bride instead, after I snuff out the light of the Sun and her twin moon, after I usurp their undeserved throne. He eyed his own trophy-composed throne appraisingly, ugly eyes lighting up with the vision. Besides. Mine will look much better in the heart of Canterlot Keep’s throne room.
Twilight couldn’t quite stifle her squeak of horror at her princess’ appearance. Celestia couldn’t have missed it if she tried. Frowning, the princess looked down at her hooves, too embarrassed to say anything.
Oh, oh, oh, tardiness! How could I let myself do that?! Twilight conked herself in the forehead with a sharp THWACK! and steeled herself to sheepishly chance a glance at the other alicorn once more. She wasn’t even looking at her, too busy studying her luscious-looking ivory hooves.
Wait . . . Luscious-looking?! Twilight gasped again, this time in sheer horror at herself, at her thoughts, and THWACK! She added another lump to her mounting bruises.
She couldn’t quite help it, though. Since Celestia wasn’t looking at her . . . She found herself studying the elder mare’s incredible features. Her softly-sculpted cheeks, her sweet lips, her deeply riveting eyes, the sweet curve of her long neck, the trail of her lovely pink mane drifting down to her strong ches—AAH! Don’t finish that thought, Twilight!! Wait a minute . . . Her pink mane?!?!
Bolting upright, Twilight caught the princess’ face in her hoof, intending to tell her—!!
Suddenly, without any warning, the princess, in all her beauty (for she was still just as beautiful as ever, perhaps even more so, in her vulnerability, if only to Twilight) . . .
She did the unthinkable.
Princess Celestia of Equestria, in all her grace and elegance and timeless, ageless beauty . . .
Leaned forward . . .
And . . .
Kissed . . .
Twilight.
Author's Note
Oh, gosh. So, the creativity bug bit me again! This time, I have to give a huge shoutout to ChaoticLighting for loving zombies so much (I do, too!) and inspiring me to make my villain a zombie king. I'm very indecisive, you see, and didn't know what my villain was going to be, but the necromancer makes the most sense. No spoilers, sorry. Actually . . . Sorrynotsorry! 
So, things are starting to heat up! I hope that the first chapter wasn't too hard to get through; the rest should all be pretty exciting from here on out, I hope.
