A Moment in Time

by Candela

Rating: teen
Tags: Alternate Universe
Length: 3865

Celestia is plagued by an all-too-familiar dream.

Even now, a thousand-odd years afterwards, I'll occasionally wake up and realize I had the dream again. The dream where I brandished the Elements against the only one I'd ever loved. I keep telling myself that I did what I had to; that if she'd stayed, she would've doomed Equestria. Those kind of excuses only work for so long, though. After a while, you start doubting yourself.

How long is a moment, anyway, and when will my nightmare be over?

Just a random idea that popped into my head. Alternate Reality for the obvious embellishments on canon, and "T" for mild gore. If you can call broken bones gore if they're only mentioned in passing.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-10-08 15:10:03 UTC

A Moment in Time

“If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete.” – Gautama Buddha

She was there, in the old palace. Dust and dirt clung to the air, throwing a veil across the already-darkened hall. Her lungs ached, and the air tickled as it passed through her throat. Huge chunks of masonry toppled from above in a steady drip, but she didn't dare take her eyes off the figure. It flitted just below the arched ceiling, bathing in the midnight glow of Equis's ancient moon. Its muzzle drew back to reveal razor-sharp fangs, and she could see its eyes glowing bright yellow, like a mockery of her sun.

“So, sister, who is the better of us now? What would our – no, your –  subjects think of their mighty Celestia, whom was so easily squashed beneath my horseshoes?”

“Luna…” she gasped.

“Spare me your tripe! Do you know how long I've suffered on your account? Only a few in Equestria even know my name, yet you get entire holidays devoted to how wondrous you are. And for what – so you bring them the sun. Your job is no less than mine, yet you're favored because ponies are afraid of the dark! All I ever asked for was a little recognition, but they spent so much time worshiping you that they spared me no mind!

“Well, my time in the shadows is over – metaphorically speaking. For tonight will be the first and final night of my reign. Your precious sun will perish with you, leaving my moon to be the sole heir! But first, the formalities.” With a few practiced shots from her horn, Luna destroyed every brazier in the hall. The only light left came from the moon, shining through the ever-expanding hole in the ceiling. More hunks of stone crashed against the floor, but Celestia was too winded, and too angry, to care. With her work finished, Luna wriggled into the only remaining throne.

“Ah… this is so much more comfortable. Look, Celly! I even have some elbow room, now that your gaudy stool is gone. Once upon a time, I would've considered keeping it as a trophy, or using it as mine in some symbolic gesture of my divine right to rule. After a closer inspection, though, I think I made the right choice – yours was more ragged, and it was probably crawling with fleas or some such.

“And now, I declare myself sole queen of Equestria. Good, you're already prostrate, Celly – that saves me a lot of time. By my order, your holdings are forfeit. Your lands, your ponies, your wealth, and your relics are all mine, now. Including those,” she wrenched the Elements from Celestia's grasp. Celestia watched as the elements floated in a miasma of darkness, slowly covering the length of the room. A smile reminiscent of the old Luna flashed on her face, and her eyes lost their yellow glow. When she spoke, her voice lacked the iciness that she'd recently had.

“You've kept these… and after all this time…” The eyes faded to yellow, and with a haphazard flick, she dashed them against the floor. Unsurprisingly, the gems didn't shatter – they merely scattered across the hall. “Petty trifles. I can't use them, but that's hardly a matter – you've had them this whole time, and you couldn't use them.”

“That's because…” said Celestia, “I didn't have the heart to.” She rose onto unsteady hooves. After a few seconds of wobbling, she braced herself against a half-crumbled statue of Luna, and continued.

“You and I both know the Elements wont work properly unless they work in unison. Barring that, there was one other thing that kept me from using them, and that was my uncertainty. I haven't been blind and deaf these past months: I saw the darkness seeping into you, but I couldn't confront you about it. You hated me then as you hate me now, and I have reason to think that you would've listened about the same. If I had asked you to forsake the darkness, I would have only driven you away. I didn't want that – I never wanted that.” There was a sudden surge of strength in her limbs. The shaking stopped. She stepped towards the throne.

“I… I wanted to be absolutely sure of my course. I had to wait until the point of no return, to know beyond the shadow of a doubt whether you were still in control. I know… Even now, I know there's still a piece of my little sister trapped somewhere in there,” she pointed to Luna's chest, “waiting to break free. I just wanted to let you know that… that I love you.”

For a shadow of a second, Luna's features seemed to soften. The nebulous mane vanished, the teeth were normal, and she was the sister Celestia know was in there. The moment, however, was fleeting. After blinking, Celestia was nose-to-nose with the monster from before.

“You're a weak fool, Celestia. Weaker than your sister for hating you. Weaker than the smallest foal, or the feeblest stallion. You let your emotions guide you, and now you will pay the price. Bow to me, and I may decide to spare you.”

“Luna, please… it doesn't have to be like this.”

“Bow, sister.”

“I know you can hear me. You have to fight it. For me…”

“Bow, you wretch!”

“…please…”

“You will bend, or you will break!” Luna's voice echoed around the hall. Celestia took one last look into her sister's eyes, searching for…

something, anything. She saw that Luna – the real Luna – was staring back at her, eyes as hard as any stone in the world.

“You never cared about me,” she whispered, “I was always getting in your way. I got sick of it. I'm sorry, Celly, but now that I have everything I ever wanted, I don't need you anymore.” The words cut like a knife. Celestia staggered back, and crumpled into a pile at the foot of the stairs. She wanted to lie there forever, until the world was scorched to ash and nothing remained to tell her tale. Luna looked down from on high, as impassive as ever. It was still her sister's face.

Celestia could see all the elements from where she lay, scattered about the hall like a filly's marble collection. As she eyed each one, it responded with a dull glimmer. Those that had been her sister's – loyalty, generosity, and honesty – were more lustrous than her own. Somehow, this sparked inside her a fierce drive to end it. One way or another. She stood up again, looked straight into her sister's cold eyes, and laughed. Luna's gaze was curious, and Celestia was quick to answer the unasked question.

“There is a popular saying among our blacksmiths. Every blade and horseshoe will weather away in time; but if it breaks, you can forge it anew. You've pitted yourself against the blade. Kill me now, and you will have survived one threat. I guarantee you'll have more to face before your end, and you only need to slip one time to lose. However, if it's a fight you want,” Celestia's eyes glinted like fire in the faint moonlight, “I have no intention of losing.”

“Ha! I bested you once, I can do it again. And this time, you can expect no mercy.”

The battle raged on for hours, with both combatants spurred on by their convictions. The moon played spectator, watching from on high as the sister's clashed. The castle had been utterly destroyed. Not a half of it remained intact, to Celestia's dismay. She felt a pang of regret that she'd never retread the halls where she'd spent most of her filly-hood, but a bolt of midnight blue shook her from her stupor. It flew right past her ear, singing the fur a little and sending a jolt of pain through her body.

Just then, she felt something she hadn't felt in ages. Her mind was fuzzy and unfocused, her vision swam, and her wings felt like they were made of lead. Every bolt she fired flew wider than the last. Focus, she chastised herself. Try as she might, though, she felt the fatigue weighing on her, forcing her towards the ground. Luna could sense her sister's flagging strength, and redoubled her efforts. With a frenzied war cry, she dove after Celestia. A volley of magic shot down after, each strand narrowly missing its mark.

Celestia's head was whirling in a mad frenzy. Luna was above her, and closing in fast. She could hear the blood-lust in her sister's battle cry. She wouldn't last long in the air, and she could never out-fly her sister. Luna had raw strength and agility in spades. Even at her best, Celestia was no contest when it came to brute strength. But what about brains, she thought. She saw the hall below, with its gaping ceiling, and was struck with an idea. When the next volley came, she let herself fall limp. She kept one eye open against the racing wind as she plummeted straight into the hall. When she thought Luna out of sight, she unfurled her wings, and skidded painfully across the room until a statue brought her to a sudden halt. Most normal ponies would have died pulling a stunt like that – I still might die, she thought ruefully – but Celestia bore it with all the grace of a titanium-cast eagle.

She felt the snap and crunch of broken bones as she wobbled to her hooves. Her eyes went first to the ceiling, hoping against hope that her sister wasn't there. Surprisingly, she wasn't. The gap had a clear view of the starry sky that, on normal days, would have been relaxing. She winced as she plodded to the center of the hall, and up onto the dais that stood there. Her legs gave way just as she crested the stairs. Her face smacked against the polished marble, but the pain was mild compared to the feeling in her legs. It took a short while, but she eventually worked herself into a sitting position, and gazed quickly about the hall. Her relief was nearly tangible. All the Elements were accounted for, and none of them had so much as budged from their earlier positions. It was a tiny miracle, and it was one she'd use to great effect.

Her horn flared in a golden corona as the Elements swarmed to her. She didn't bother hiding her magic; for this to work, Luna had to be curious, but not suspicious. Golden glyphs floated in the air around her, and she started arranging them with practiced flicks of her head. She slapped one on top of the other in a hurried frenzy, hoping that her sister would notice the arrangement of the runes. Teleportation was a unique magic, with a unique structure, and a couple unique properties. She hoped to use a few of these properties against the mind that had found them. She also hoped there would be enough time to ready everything.

There was a speck on the floor. A little patch of darkness, staining the ghostly glow of the moon. Celestia watched as the speck grew larger, and larger until, with a sharp gust of wind, Luna slammed into the floor of the hall. Unlike her own landing, Luna's crash had been intentional. Cracks spread in spider-web fashion from the small crater in the middle of the hall, and Luna didn't raise her head until they stopped. When she did, Celestia saw the face of something… terrifying. A four-eyed creature with eyes of the most brilliant yellow stared back at her, flicking its forked tongue as if to emphasize the change. When it spoke, it did so with a myriad of voices; not like earlier, when it spoke with one.

“Game's over, princess,” it spat. It made as if to charge her, but only growled. “You should've stayed dead.”

“And leave Equestria without a princess?” she asked. The creature laughed in response, a discordant laugh that was the stuff of nightmares.

“Princess? All I see is a cripple with a crown. Equestria needs a ruler of true splendor. A shield to defend them, and a sword to smite their enemies.”

“…and to pass judgment as it pleases.” It shrugged.

“That's one of the perks of being a tyrant. You get to rid yourself of the ponies you don't like. Starting with you.” It lunged out of the circle, teeth bared and hissing. It slammed against the rim of the moonlight as if it were a brick wall. Drawing back, it made another attempt to break through into the darkened hall, only to be met with another invisible wall. It growled angrily at her, and Celestia watched as the fire in its eyes grew to an inferno.

“What…? What trickery is this, Celestia? Why can't I– Oh.” Its eyes shot open – all two of them, Celestia noticed, as her sister's horrid guise melted away – and fell onto the floor.

“So, you've figured it out?”

“Of course I did, you insipid– it's a teleportation rune. Very clever, sister, but you're only pending your doom. It won't take me long to find my way back to Equestria: even the deepest pit in Tartarus cannot hold me.”

“I know that,” Celestia said quietly. Her gaze traveled skyward, to where the moon would be in the night sky. Luna blanched.

“You… You couldn't have. Not in your state. It would take the power of the Elem–“ Luna's eyes flew open. A wry grin spread across her face, but the smile never touched her eyes. “So, this is how it ends. You used the Elements' power to craft a teleportation sigil to the moon. Very, very clever; you knew that everything caught in the rune couldn't leave. However, there's still one thing you didn't think of.”

“And that is…?” Luna's smile grew colder.

“The prophecy, sister dearest. A thousand years is a small reprieve for me; plenty of time to hone my skills, and further plot your demise. Unlike you, I will grow stronger. I'll return in full force, and darkness will wash over the land like a flood. Nothing will be able to stop me. Not you, not your Elements.”

“They're not my Elements,” Celestia whispered, “they were our Elements. I couldn't command them; not by myself. They only lent me their full power to keep you at bay. I… I think you'll return to find a very different Equestria. In any case, I won't be here to greet you. The new bearers will, though.”

“Let them come. They will perish, knowing what true fear is.” The sigil started to burn brightly against the floor. Celestia watched as her sister slowly faded away. She could feel the chill of the moon from where she stood. A bright flash from the sky told her of her sister's arrival. Looking up, she saw Luna's likeness engraved on the moon. The prophecy, she thought. As she looked away, she noticed the glow from the rune as it faded first to a dull red, then to black.

“I'll see you later… Luna.” A single tear marred the soot outline of the sigil as Celestia walked from the hall.

There was something about that night, exactly one-thousand-one years ago, that kept her awake. She knew what it was, but there was no way to brook the subject, especially after Luna's memories were erased. Her sister had been so happy to finally come home, after what she called “the longest night she hath ever witnessed”. She'd been quick to play along. The last thing her little sister needed was to know that she had been, if only for a short time, the most feared pony in Equestria.

Celestia sighed, and clicked the gas lamp on with a practiced flourish. She spared a glance to her desk, whence rested pile after pile of unfinished paperwork. Tomorrow, she thought, as she headed onto the balcony. Luna had always told her that each night was different, just as every day was different. She'd worked to keep it that way, all those years, but could never quite get it right. She looked up in awe at the night Luna had crafted, and felt a peace settle into her.

“Doth something trouble you, sister?” came a voice from behind. She jumped at Luna's voice, and turned to face her.

“Luna? What are you still doing up?”

“Shepherding the night,” she explained, “the stars doth wander if thy grip isn't true. Verily, I noticed thine wasn't so firm as mine!”

“Yeah. I never really got used to managing so many stars. I usually just fling the sun up over the horizon, and let it do its thing.” Luna laughed at this. Celestia managed a grin before she was taken by her mood again.

“Aha! I've the surest way to raise your spirits, sister!”

“Do tell. I've been feeling a bit blue lately – I'll try anything.”

“Well,” she started, “thou dost recall our many nights spent star-gazing, do you not? I think such dourness to be cured by revisiting fond memories, think you?”

“I'll try… If you think that will work.” Luna jumped up, and started tittering excitedly.

“Oh, yes! I've not been so sure since… I can't recall when! Wait here, sister! I'll return hence with the star-gazing apparatus, and thereafter the 'fun' will commence!”

True to her word, Luna returned shortly with a weathered telescope. It was old; older than Twilight's telescope. It was a midnight-blue tube, ringed in brass and studded with jewels. The lens was, in fact, crystal-glass: a very rare, very expensive natural glass, and it was nigh unbreakable. The telescope had to be at least a thousand years old, if not more. She looked uncomfortably at Luna, and asked where she'd gotten it. After a brief pause, Luna admitted to not knowing the telescope's origins.

“I… I don't recall whence it came from. Only that it doth seem… familiar. Pleasantly so; I thought it one of your treasures saved from the old castle. Prithee, we may still star-gaze with it? The crystal-glass lenses do not look overly weathered. I think we couldn't harm it if we tried.”

Celestia relented, much to Luna's delight. Luna set up the telescope with a surprising amount of dexterity; it seems that the body remembered, even when the brain couldn't.

They were out there together until the wee hours of the morning, talking, laughing, and otherwise enjoying eachother's company. Never in all her years did she think of rekindling that relationship over a telescope. It was good that she could still be proven wrong.

Luna seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of constellations to discuss. Celestia only half-listened, nodding and answering when prompted, but otherwise not paying attention. It was a skill she'd learned through countless sessions of open court, and it was serving her well. While Luna talked about the stars, Celestia was wondering how to best discuss the events that happened on that night, with a pony that couldn't even remember being there.

“…and that doth be Star Swirl's Beard. Thou dost remember Star Swirl, perchance? He did once ask for mine hoof, know you. Such eloquence, quotha, ought be remembered by one whom appreciates it. I think not, say I, for the night and her princess shall outlast you tenfold! Yonder is the– Sister?”

Celestia was snapped from her reverie by a quick prod. She turned about to find a nonplussed Luna staring back at her, with equal parts annoyance and confusion.

“Thine self said, once, that 'everything doth have its appointed time and place'. I was not aware introspection's place was during a heartfelt conversation.”

“Sorry, Luna,” she whispered, “It's just… Star-gazing was fun, but somehow I knew it wouldn't fix the problem.”

“And what problem is that, prithee tell?”

“I… I'm…” Celestia blushed. She looked down into Luna's confused eyes, and felt like she was looking into a mirror. One thousand years of doubt and questions could be put to rest by a single question, yet here she was, grasping at straws like some cloud-headed school-filly.

“Did you really mean what you said that night,” she blurted, “about having everything you'd ever wanted? I didn't… I didn't want to believe it when I heard it, and… and…” Then, Equis's greatest communicator broke down. That had been the question plaguing her mind for over ten centuries. Who had really said that; her sister, or the darkness? Now that it was out there, there was no issue to avoid with fancy wordplay. She merely stood there, mane flapping in the gentle breeze, with her eyes cast Earthward.

Suddenly, she felt the gentle and awkward embrace of somepony that wasn't practiced at hugging. It was warm and genuine; Luna nuzzled her sister affectionately, and smiled up at her.

“I speak plainly now,” she started, “for fancy prose would ruin it. Truly, I would see Equestria under my rule. I believe you're soft for your affection. Equestria could be so much more, if it only had a driving force behind it. However, this Equestria changed me. It scoured my heart, cleansing from it the darkness that had taken root. This was something I'd been afraid of. For the longest time, I'd thought that darkness a part of me, and that by removing it I'd cease being myself.

“I see now how wrong I was. It only took a thousand years of introspection, but… do you think the Elements could change somepony that didn't want to be changed? That act alone would cause disquiet, which is something the Elements cannot do. That was part of the reason they didn't work before, and it was the sole reason they worked upon my return. But to answer your question: yes and no. I wouldn't mind being queen, but I don't think I could manage without you at my side.”

“That's good,” Celestia said, “I feel so much better, having heard that.”

They sat there awkwardly for a while, watching as the stars faded away. The night was left uncannily black. Suddenly, a cold wind sprung forth, and they both shivered.

“It's about time for me to raise the sun. You should probably get some rest; tomorrow's your first day in open court. You shouldn't go tired.”

“Thine wisdom is evident; I'll return to my chambers, and hasten for some rest.” With the telescope in hand, Luna turned to go inside.

“Wait–“ Luna stopped. “I… Maybe I'll let you miss open court tomorrow. Just don't leave yet.”

“Sister!” Luna snorted, “I hath my duties, as you do. Yet your offer tempts me. I'll stay until sunrise, to appease you. And… I missed you, too.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Celestia's horn flared a golden yellow. Luna watched as a translucent beam shot from the balcony, and dipped below the horizon countless miles away. With a mighty tug, the beam grew taut, and the horizon was bathed in a wreath of fire. They sat there, on the balcony, and watched the sunrise together.