You Too Will Deteriorate

Chapters

1. Startled at the Stillness Broken
2. Tempest Tossed Thee Here Ashore
3. Leave My Loneliness Unbroken
4. This Mystery Explore
5. Filled Me with Fantastic Terrors
6. Not the Least Obeisance Made He
7. Beguiling My Sad Fancy into Smiling
8. Desolate, Yet All Undaunted
9. Deep into that Darkness Peering
10. Hesitating then No Longer
11. This Home by Horror Haunted
12. Let Me Quaff this Kind Nepenthe
13. Wrought its Ghost Upon the Floor

1. Startled at the Stillness Broken

The guard glanced from side to side again. The palace grounds had stayed quiet all day. All week, even. That worried her. It seemed like every week something happened somewhere in Equestria. Ponyville got a lot of it, of course. Any place with a princess seemed to attract it, however, and Canterlot was no exception.

Canterlot felt overdue. It was the same as earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. If the weather and topography and geological crews didn’t schedule them regularly, the pressure would build up, and the next one became worse.

The guard scanned the area again. The palace grounds sounded quiet, seemed pleasant and peaceful. She had checked the front gate, the front doors, and the central walkway a dozen times, and everything looked fine.

She tightened her grip on her spear. It had been enchanted, of course, but she often supposed they gave out armor and weapons to the guards for psychological security, rather than martial efficacy.

The front gate swung open, and the guard readied her spear. Whoever was opening it had failed to announce themselves, and that worried her. She prepared to call out to them, to order them to identify themselves. Her mouth began to form the words right as the gates opened fully.

The guard paused. The words stuck in her throat.

Princess Celestia walked through the gate; except she looked different. Her ceremonial barding had rusted slightly, and thin streaks of dirt matted her coat. Most noticeable was her hair; black streaks accompanied its usual multicolored luster. They looked like discolorations in an old photograph.

The Not-Celestia walked so slowly. She strolled casually up the central walkway, her hooves clacking softly on the marble tiles. Every step echoed across the front garden. Every swish of hair and clank of armor seemed like a firework’s explosion.

Finally, she arrived at the front doors and looked down at the guard.

Celestia smiled, and it looked just like her usual, warm, comforting smile. “H-hello, my little p-pony. I was h-hoping to have an audience with the p-princesses.”

The guard finally closed her mouth and lifted up her spear. She struggled for a moment about how to address the Celestia in front of her. Formally? Informally? Militarily?

Eventually, she groped around in her chestpiece and pulled out the dragonfire flare they had given her. She pointed it towards the sky and pulled the cord with her teeth. It shot upward and scorched a huge, green sun symbol into the sky. If this didn’t qualify as an “emergency”, then nothing would.

She made sure the symbol stayed in place and then turned her attention back to the Celestia in front of her. Her spear pointed ineffectually at Celestia’s chest. The tarnished alicorn simply sat there, smiling serenely.

At least the suspense had ended.

2. Tempest Tossed Thee Here Ashore

Celestia took a sip of tea. Her doppelganger sat across from her. The fine chairs and table of the drawing room had just been cleaned yesterday, in preparation for a diplomatic function next week. Now smears of dried dirt marred the red cushions and white marble.

“Is the tea not to your liking?” Celestia asked. She maintained eye contact, as much as was polite.

“Oh it’s f-f-fine,” the other Celestia said. “I’m j-just not in the mood for tea right noww.”

Celestia took another sip of tea. In front of any other diplomat or guest, taking two sips of tea so close together would be a sign of weakness. It would look like a declaration that she had nothing to say, that she was at a loss for words. It would be a sign that the other party could go for the throat, press their advantage and negotiate a stronger position for themselves.

They would be right, of course. Celestia had tried and failed to think of something else to do with her hooves and mouth. Was it wrong to lower her guard to herself? The doppelganger hadn’t taken advantage of the perceived weakness, at any rate. It just sat there, wearing the same neutral, patient smile she had worn so many times herself.

“Would you like a crumpet?” Celestia asked.

“N-n-no, thank you.”

The stutter bothered Celestia more than any other detail. The appearance, the rust and discoloration and dirt, none of that seemed out of place. The stutter, however, made her uncomfortable. It sounded like such a perversion of her voice.

“Perhaps a biscuit or some teacakes?” she offered. Would it be rude to ask about it? Could anything be rude, when a mockery of yourself sat across the table from you? It had sat calmly, never changing its expression, responding politely to anything she said. She couldn’t quite summon the force of will to abandon her manners.

“Thank you, b-b-but I am fine.”

“Perhaps you would prefer some black pudding?”

The other Celestia laughed. “I am glad you have n-n-not lost your sense of humorrr, then.”

“I wasn’t joking. We keep it around for the carnivorous diplomats, you know. But perhaps something like you would prefer it to teacake.”

The other Celestia laughed again. It sounded just like her own laugh. No stutter or tonal shifts. It sounded exactly like her, and that only made it that much more disturbing.

“Tell me, Celes-s-stia, where is your sssister?”

“She is resting, as she often does during this hour.”

“You did not feel the n-need to wake her?”

“I don’t think this is a situation that requires her attention,” Celestia said.

“Oh, but I a-a-actually came here to see her. No offense to your c-c-company, of course.”

“None taken. But I have to ask what business you have with her.”

The other Celestia leaned forward. “Tell me, j-j-just how much do you know about your sister?”

“More than I would like to, and not as much as I should.”

The other Celestia frowned a little at that. “I had not expected it to b-b-be very forthcoming.”

The door to the study creaked open.

“Sister?”

Both Celestias turned to the door simultaneously. “Luna” stood in the doorway. Her expression mirrored Celestia’s when she had first seen the doppelganger.

The other Celestia’s smile widened. It stretched and warped and distorted at the sight of Princess Nightmare Moon.

“L-l-look at you, monster. Wearing a cloak of l-l-lies, pretending to be normal. But I kn-kn-knew I was in the right place. I could smell your s-s-stench the moment I arrived. And now h-here you are.” The other Celestia didn’t rise from its chair. Its body remained neutral. Only the smile betrayed any shift in its emotions. “I would say I am glad to see you, but that w-w-wouldn’t be quite accurate.”

Luna said nothing. She visibly groped for words, her mouth moving without sound, her eyes darting across the doppelganger’s body. “It can’t be.”

The other Celestia restrained her smile. Its expression didn’t quite return to polite neutrality; a shimmer of malice and glee poked through its genteel facade. It gripped its chestplate in its magic and moved it to the side, slowly, painfully slowly.

Luna recoiled. “It can’t be.” A long, jagged scar snaked across the other Celestia’s chest.

“Oh, but i-it iss,” the other Celestia whispered. It traced the scar with a hoof. “That’s the spot where you t-t-tore out my heart.”

It let the chestpiece fall back into place, then turned back to Celestia. “Thank you f-f-for the tea, but I will be t-taking my sister back home now.”

3. Leave My Loneliness Unbroken

Princess Nightmare Moon wanted to be happy. Celestia was alive. The original Celestia, her Celestia. She wanted to feel the same elation and joy and trepidation that she had first felt upon meeting the new Celestia. Except, she didn’t. Celestia’s aura felt wrong. It felt too much like death. It felt like a lich or revenant. But clearly Celestia was alive. She could hear a heartbeat, feel a pulse, smell sweat and taste emotion coming off of her. It brought to mind flowers freshly planted on a grave: an unsettling contradiction.

Except it had to be her. The scar alone proved that.

The newer Celestia took a sip of her tea. “I suppose that explains some things,” she said. “Yet at the same time, it raises many more questions.”

“Oh, f-f-forgive my manners. I would not want to be rude to our h-host,” Celestia said. “I s-s-suppose the creature must have told you something, judging b-by your earlier comment and y-your nonchalant reaction.”

The new Celestia sipped her tea again. “She told me the basics. That she killed you. That Discord sent her back in time. That she…that she killed my Luna and took her place.”

Celestia’s smile faded. “I am s-sorry. I’m not surprised, but I am s-sorry.” Her eyes turned to Nightmare Moon. If Celestia's smile earlier had been drenched in malicious glee, then her gaze now filled with smoldering reproach.

Nightmare Moon flinched. She closed her eyes, but Celestia's scorn still tingled on her skin.

“It’s… It isn’t like that! She— I was insane; I had to be stopped!” Nightmare Moon stood up. “If I hadn’t killed her, she would’ve killed Celestia. The entire world would’ve died. Celestia,” she turned to the new Celestia, “you believe me, don’t you? You said you forgave me. You said that you loved me and that—”

“Q-q-quiet.” Celestia’s gaze remained on Nightmare Moon. Her voice retained the same tone and pitch, quiet and forceful. “I’m p-p-proud that you t-tolerated it for this long. When we return to our own Equestria, I will not be anywhere near as lenient on it.”

Nightmare Moon sat back down. Celestia’s words felt like they had struck her, stronger than any spell could have. She stared at the ground. She heard the newer Celestia take a sip of her tea, but couldn’t bring herself to look more closely.

“I am curious how you intend to return to your own timeline. Frankly, all the mechanics of this are confusing me,” the new Celestia said.

“Ah, y-yes, forgive my m-manners again,” Celestia said. “It’s really quite s-simple, you s-see. All p-pony-made spells are designed not to alter the timeline. So it,” she gestured towards Nightmare Moon, “decided to get D-Discord’s help. Obviously his magic is n-not beholden to the s-same rules.

“Some t-t-time after he sent this creature away, he must have gotten a little bored. He decided to revive me, a-a-as something to do. And, w-w-well, let us just say that I did not react as he had expected.”

“That’s how…” Nightmare Moon whispered. She looked up. “That’s how you have a heartbeat. That’s why I sense Discord’s magic in you. I thought it was just because of the magic he used on you, but it is more than that, isn’t it?”

Nightmare Moon smiled. She got up and walked towards her sister. “Then that means… that means you are just like me!”

The tile in front of Nightmare’s hoof shattered.

“D-d-don’t you dare,” Celestia whispered. “I am nothing like y-you. You k-k-killed me—you k-k-killed our entire world—just to solve your p-petty problems. I had n-no other choice. You f-forced me to become this wayyy. And that is why I am h-h-here. To b-bring you back, s-so that you can spend the rest of your life reb-b-building the world you destroyed.”

“That is enough.” The new Celestia used the same tone of voice, the same quiet, commanding tone. It felt even worse than the original Celestia’s. “It seems that this matter requires quite a lot of consultation, after all.”

She stood up and turned to Nightmare Moon. “You are confined to your quarters until further notice.” She turned to the original Celestia. “And I suppose you are confined to this drawing room until further notice.”

Celestia walked out of the room. Only when the doors shut did she allow herself to breathe. “Guards, post a full detail around both of their rooms.”

Any time she called for guards, more than needed showed up. For once, she felt glad to see so many of them appear.

The guards glanced at each other. The highest ranking one stepped forward. “With all due respect, Princess, I don’t think a wall of guards will be able to stop either of them.”

“Not physically, that is true.” Celestia smiled her most reassuring and confident smile. “But neither of them would hurt any of the guards. No matter how unhinged they may be, they are both still princesses, somewhere in their minds.”

“Then why post guards at all, Princess?”

“Someone has to protect them from each other,” Celestia said. She walked off down the hallway. The guards would follow her orders. She had to summon the other Princesses as soon as possible.

She forced her hooves to keep going, even as she passed her bedroom.

4. This Mystery Explore

Celestia took a deep breath. This drawing room looked identical to the one she had entertained it in. Celestia had to fight the urge to stare too closely at the chairs and table. The dark muck of grave dirt on red velvet would not leave her thoughts.

Cadance rubbed her temples. “This is starting to get rather convoluted.”

Twilight wrote down a few more notes. “Well, it certainly isn't simple, but I do think I have a handle on it.”

Celestia sighed. “Yes, well, I am afraid that this as much information as we are going to get. Considering the…ponies giving it, we can only barely assume it is reliable to begin with.”

Celestia rested her head on a hoof. In front of Twilight and Cadance, at least, she could allow herself a small expression of weakness. “The more important question is, what do we do?”

Cadance and Twilight shared a look. Celestia knew that look. They had used the same look the last time.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Well, forgive me for saying so, but last time we had a talk like this, you were not very receptive to our perspective,” Cadance said. She had been taught so well. To wrap her reproach in such diplomacy.

Celestia nodded. “Yes, I suppose I never did apologize for that. I’m sorry. I often forget that the two of you are my equals. And I was not particularly calm about it.” Celestia straightened her head. “But this, this is different. I won’t make the same mistake this time. I know I can’t be objective about it. I know that I need help to solve this situation. And I know that your insight is more important than anyone else’s.”

Cadance smiled. “Apology accepted.”

Twilight smiled too. “Of course it is.”

Twilight’s ear flicked. She scribbled another note on the paper. “Yes, that’s it! Perspective.” She looked up from her notes. “I think that what we need here is more information. We can’t help anypony without knowing just what is going on.” She flipped to a new page in her notebook. “With both of your permission, I’d like to interview the, uhm, other Celestia.”

Celestia frowned. “Whatever happened in her version of reality, there was no Twilight there, you know.”

“That’s just it. Perhaps interacting with somepony besides you or Luna will help give us a better insight into her thought processes. Or perhaps she will provide different answers than the ones you got from her.”

Cadance nodded. “I suppose it is worth trying.”

Celestia took a deep breath. “Very well, Twilight. If you think it’s best, I will trust your judgment.” She stood up. “While you are interviewing our detainee, I think it is best I get some rest.”

“Don’t worry, Princesses.” Twilight gathered up her quills and notebooks. “I will debrief the other Celestia thoroughly and share my findings with you. You can count on me.”

She trotted out of the room.

Cadance giggled. “The same Twilight as ever.”

If only I could share her optimism, without having to construct a destructive facade, Celestia thought. She chose not to share the thought with Cadance.

5. Filled Me with Fantastic Terrors

Twilight opened the door slowly. Her eyes widened as she saw the discolored Celestia sitting at the table.

“H-hello. C-come in,” Celestia said.

“Hello. My name is Twilight Sparkle.”

Celestia smiled. “So, you don’t introduce yourself as P-princess Twilight-t?”

“Not yet, no.”

“And what c-can I do for you, Twilight Sparkle?”

Twilight sat down across from the…was she a revenant? A wight? Perhaps she was something that didn’t have a name yet. She scribbled on her notes. Writing “Celestia B” or “Celestia 2” every time looked so awkward, but there was nothing for it.

Twilight looked up from her notes. “I am here to interview you.”

“About w-what?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Celestia laughed. It sounded just like the real Celestia’s laugh, light and musical.

Celestia smiled, and that looked the same too. “I im-magine you and your peers are having trouble coming to t-terms with the situation.”

“It is an unusual occurrence, yes.”

“It doesn’t need to be a difficult c-c-consideration, you know. All I want is to bring the m-m-monster back, so she can atone for all the things she has done. To my w-world and yours.”

“What makes you think she hasn’t already?”

Celestia smiled again. “Well, that r-raises an interesting question, d-doesn’t it? Can one measure p-penance? Can one quantify j-j-justice?”

“Of course we can. We do it all the time when we sentence ponies in court.”

“Yes, that is t-true." Celestia nodded. The same nod the real Celestia used to use, all those lessons ago: sincere, but foreshadowing a question. "But it is a lot s-s-simpler to value a stolen purse or a single dead pony. How can one measure j-j-justice for an entire planet? An entire planet and m-more?”

Twilight flipped through her notes. “Well, if my timeline is correct, based on the information from the both of you, then Luna spent about a thousand years on a lifeless world, all by herself, then she spent another thousand years alone on the moon. Doesn’t that seem like a significant punishment?”

“Yes, it does certainly s-s-sound significant. But t-tell me, Twilight Sssparkle.” Celestia tilted her head to the side. The same way the real Celestia did during so many of her Socratic questions. “If justice can b-be measured, then what are the c-c-consequences of it being mismeasured? If a punishment does not m-m-match the crime, then who s-s-suffers for it?”

“I suppose that would depend on whether the punishment was too long or too short.”

“Yes, that is a g-good observation. If the punishment is too light, it f-favors the c-criminal. If it is too h-heavy, then it favors the victim. Wh-who, do you think, deserves more consideration?”

“That is a false dichotomy. The criminal and the victim are equally important,” Twilight said.

“Are th-they? You think that a monster that k-k-kills an entire world, is worth the same sort of mmmercy and compassion, as all those they k-killed?” Celestia leaned forward. Her expression stayed the same, calm and neutral, but she placed one hoof on the table. “If a m-monster r-rips out her sister’s heart, you think that the two deserve equal treatment?”

“Everypony can be redeemed,” Twilight said. Her words sounded quieter than she had intended.

“Is th-that so?” Celestia slid her hoof to the side, and blood smeared across the table. “If I tore out your heart right now, what would you d-do with your d-dying breath? Would y-you forgive me? Would you c-curse me? Would you demand r-revenge?”

“That’s an appeal to emotion,” Twilight said. She tried to take her eyes off the smear of blood. It looked dark and granulated, like rust and dirt had been mixed into it. “One can’t know how they would react to something like that.”

“And what if some thing f-forced you back to life afterward? Would your p-perspective have ch-changed? Would you agree with your d-decision from before?” Celestia put her other hoof on the table, and another smear of contaminated blood trailed after it. “Would all your m-morals still be intact, after a monster wearing your sister’s s-skin stole your life away?”

“That’s another appeal to emotion. You can’t base an argument on logical fallacies.”

Celestia leaned forward further. “You’d be surprised how important emotions become, after one has been betrayed so deeply.” She tapped her chestpiece. “Would you like to see the scar? I could open it up for you. Showw you h-how it looked when that monster ripped my heart out.” The peytral slid sideways. As it moved out of the way, the hairs of Celestia’s coat flicked into place, and flecks of blood decorated their tips.

The door slammed open, guards rushed in. “Is everything alright, Princess? We detected magic being cast.”

“It’s…fine,” Twilight said to the guards. She turned back to the table. She had leaned back in her chair without realizing it. Celestia had returned to a neutral sitting position. The blood on the table had disappeared. Celestia’s barding and coat had returned to normal. Normal for her.

“We were just finishing up.” Twilight gathered up her notes and left her chair.

“I e-e-enjoyed our talk, Twilight Sparkle.” Celestia smiled serenely. “You remind me of m-m-my former students. Academic and optimistic and n-n-naive. It is unfortunate I will never s-s-see them again.”

Twilight said nothing as she left the room.

6. Not the Least Obeisance Made He

“I wish I could be surprised,” Celestia said.

“Obviously, given this other Celestia’s mental state, I don’t think she can be trusted with Luna,” Twilight said.

Cadance nodded. “I agree.”

“Now, now, that doesn’t sound very fair.” Discord popped into place on a chair, began poking at his fang with a toothpick. “What if little Luna wants to be taken away by Ce-lich-tia?”

“A very cute nickname, Discord,” Celestia said. “Is that where you were, this whole time? Thinking up nicknames?”

“Obviously.” Discord sat back in his chair. “Imagine how confusing this whole affair would be otherwise. Someone needs to make these sacrifices.”

“That’s a good point, though,” Twilight said. “Not the nickname part. We can’t make this decision for Luna if it is that important.”

“Given her mental state, I don’t think I trust Luna to make the right decision, either,” Cadance said.

“Indeed.” Celestia stroked her chin, and then turned to the other two. “I wonder, Twilight, Cadance, if you could give me a moment alone with Discord? I fear I have a private matter to discuss with him.”

The two of them shared that look, that same infuriating look, and nodded. They both scuttled out of their seats and soon the study fell silent.

Discord smiled. “A private moment, eh? Celestia, I never knew.”

“Don’t bother, Discord,” Celestia said. “I know you are scared of it too.”

Discord rolled his eyes, the exaggerated motion going from one side of the room to the other. “Honestly, Celestia, as if there was anything that could frighten—”

“In fact, you are probably more frightened than any of us.” Celestia smirked. “Most of it may be me: my body, my memories. But it is using your magic. I know you can feel it. And judging by what Luna said, it’s not the first owner of its heart.”

Discord glanced to the side. “Even if that were the case, dear old Ce-lich-tia doesn’t have any issue with me. I imagine any pent-up aggression she had about one Discord or the other is quite out of her system.”

“Perhaps. That is why I think you are the best one for the job.”

“And what job may that be?”

“I need you to convince it to leave. To go back to its own timeline, or reality, or Tartarus knows what, and to go back empty-hooved.”

Discord scratched his head. “I’m not saying it is impossible, or anything. But that is quite a tall order, even for me. It would take some time.”

“Would you rather it stay here? Do whatever you have to, short of violence. Take care of this for me, and I’ll consider your loyalty cemented. I imagine you owe us something, after what happened with Tirek.”

“Ever the guilt-tripper.” Discord got off his sofa and stroked his goatee. “It’s no wonder little Luna—”

“Watch yourself, Discord.”

Discord chuckled. “Don’t be so sensitive, Celestia. I was only going to mention that time you and Luna forgot to bring a gift to your friend’s wedding.” He disappeared, and his voice echoed throughout the room. “You really ought to loosen up. It’s not like you died or anything.”

7. Beguiling My Sad Fancy into Smiling

Celestia took another sip of wine. It tasted quite nice. It had a hint of Canterlot Ventana 1243 in it, back when they still harvested berries from the east bank of the river rather than the west. Her chair squeaked a bit as she leaned back. Her maids and butlers were always trying to get into her study and clean and oil everything. But occasionally, an errant squeak or smudge or discoloration could be nice. Remind one that not everything lasts forever.

She set her glass down on her desk. “Come in, sister. I know you’re out there.”

The door creaked open, and Luna walked in. “Hello, sister.”

“I needn’t ask what is on your mind.”

Luna sat down, a bit farther from Celestia’s desk than she might have otherwise. “Do you hate me?” she asked.

Celestia sighed. On the one hoof, the bluntness was refreshing. It meant Luna had become more comfortable with her. Its content, on the other hoof… “That is not the sort of question one asks…unless they already have some inkling of the answer.”

“I know it was foolish to think otherwise. After everything I told you, after everything I did, expecting you to forgive me so easily was naive. I hoped that perhaps, eventually, with time, the lie might gradually become truth.”

Celestia smiled. “You know me too well. I had hoped I was hiding it better.”

“I don’t blame you. How could I? But I suppose seeing the original Celestia threw it into sharper relief.”

“I know what you are thinking, Luna. You don’t owe that Celestia anything.”

“Of course I do. I owe her everything and more. I owe her my life and the lives of an entire planet.”

“Perhaps that was an inelegant way to phrase it.” Celestia slid her glass over to the side of her desk. “You once asked me about the nature of penance. Do you remember?”

“I remember all our conversations, down to the syllable.”

“I was being sincere. The context doesn’t change my answer. You can perform all the penance you like, to all the Celestias across a hundred worlds, and that doesn’t make it any more meaningful. It doesn’t make it any less self-destructive.”

Luna’s gaze fell to the floor. “Do you know what I did on the moon, all those years alone?”

Celestia said nothing. Luna knew as well as she that no guess would be accurate.

“At first, I did nothing. I sat around, thinking about how wonderful it would feel when I returned to you. ‘All these years alone will be such great penance for what I did,’ I thought.” Luna smiled. “I thought it would be so simple, so easy and cleansing to be alone.” Her smile faded. “But then I thought, ‘What if this isn’t enough?’ I was alone in my Equestria, after everything died. But that took some time. I had some ponies for a while. And then, even when I was alone, I had all the books and things to keep me busy. But then, on the moon, I was truly alone. Nothing but dust and rocks.

“What if it wasn’t enough to absolve me?” Luna lifted up a foreleg, traced her hoof across it. “I realized that I had to do something to ensure it would count.” She moved her hoof sharply down. “I cut my foreleg off. It hurt. It hurt a lot. I screamed. I sat there thrashing and writhing for a long time. And then, when I felt better, I used magic to regrow it. And then I did it again.

“Eventually, the shock wore off. After a few dozen times, it didn’t feel like a punishment anymore; it just felt like a boring routine.” Luna moved her hoof up to her eye. “I tried every body part, every organ, eventually. Not the crucial ones, not the ones I needed to live or cast magic, but every other one. I kept very careful count of them all. I thought maybe if I did it enough times, it would make my banishment more effective, that I would feel better afterwards. That when I finally returned, it would be easier to forgive me.”

Celestia blinked, and she knew her tears were plainly visible. But Luna continued to stare at her foreleg.

“And did all that help?” Celestia asked. “Did any of that mean anything?”

Luna lowered her hoof. “I suppose not.”

“That’s why I don’t believe in penance. It’s arbitrary. The old saying goes that ‘living well is the best revenge.’ But I don’t think that’s quite accurate. Living well is the best medicine.”

“Is that why you pretended to forgive me? To soothe yourself?”

“One of many reasons, yes.” Celestia stared at her wine glass. “Another reason was to soothe you. I am disappointed that it didn’t work. Another time I misjudged something, to your detriment.”

“I am sorry, sister. I should not have told you this. I didn’t want to burden you further.”

Celestia smiled. “If you want to unburden me, go convince the other Celestia to go back without you. I asked Discord to do it, but there is no telling how long he will take to ‘prepare’ himself.”

“I still don’t know what to say to her.”

“None of us do.” Celestia chuckled. “That didn’t stop Twilight from trying.”

Luna smiled. “Come now, sister. You can’t hold us all to Twilight’s standard. We would never get anything done.”

“Was that an attempt at humor? There may be hope yet.”

Luna chuckled. “Thank you, sister. I suppose I need to think, but thank you. I’ll leave you to your wine.”

Celestia neglected to finish her wine.

8. Desolate, Yet All Undaunted

“Very qu-quaint.”

Celestia turned the flower around. A small card had been attached to it. “No hard feelings — Discord”, it said. Next to the signature was a crude caricature of Discord, with upside-down Us for eyes and entirely too many teeth in its smile.

She turned it around again. It resembled a Calla lily, but with a narrower profile and in an unusually bright shade of white. She set it aside. Discord usually put more effort into his traps, so it seemed safe. For the moment.

The door opened, and a pink alicorn walked in. She had entered without knocking, which meant she possessed a lot more confidence than Twilight Sparkle.

“H-hello,” Celestia said.

“Hello.” The alicorn sat down without asking either. “My name is Princess Mi Amore Cadenza. Most call me Cadance.”

“Who are the e-e-exceptions?” Celestia asked slyly.

“Diplomats who stand on tradition. Overly formal subjects. Enemies. You know, the usual adherents to protocol.”

“Which a-a-am I?”

“Well, that’s up to you, isn’t it?”

Celestia smiled. “My h-h-host trained you very well. Between her t-t-tolerance of the monster and the naivete of my l-l-last interviewer, I was worried she might h-h-have been too lax.

“Or perhaps, you m-m-might not be here to interview me. Perhaps you are here to c-c-convince me to leave.” Celestia leaned forward. “No matter how many d-diplomats and alicorns you parade in front of me, I am not going to ch-change my mind.” Celestia leaned forward further, let a little magic soak into the air, to make it hotter and stuffier. “My patience will not w-w-withstand many more meetings.”

“I am here to discuss the situation with you, nothing else. Predicting your reaction, planning for a specific outcome—I suppose those are beyond any of us,” Cadenza said.

“Surely you must have s-s-some ulterior goal. A p-p-princess wouldn’t waste her time when there are so many e-e-errands and tasks to be done.”

“My goal is discussion.” Cadenza continued smiling. “I’m sure my time won’t be wasted.”

Celestia smiled. A very well-trained diplomat indeed. Cadenza’s expression and body language remained perfectly neutral. Despite Celestia’s aggressive movements and magic, Cadenza didn’t even ruffle her feathers.

If Cadenza wanted to treat this like a negotiation, then so be it. Celestia resumed her neutral sitting position. She let the magic fade from the air and returned her voice to normal. “What would you l-like to discuss?”

“What do you think of Canterlot?”

“It is h-h-hard to have an opinion on your city, when I have been in this r-room during my entire stay.”

Cadenza smiled. She gestured at the door. “Would you like to join me for a walk?”

“Wouldn’t your subjects be…d-d-disconcerted by me?”

“They have gotten used to these sorts of things. They’ll be fine.”

Celestia studied Cadenza. She had to possess some motive, some plan. Her casual manner and tone betrayed none of her schemes.

“V-very well. If you are off-f-fering, I would be glad to.” Celestia stood up. Cadenza would tip her hoof eventually. Celestia would be ready. She gestured to the door. “After y-you.”

The sun felt nice. Even at the end of the day, sunset just around the corner, the warmth of the sun made her feel better. The market day had begun to wind down, but ponies still scuttled from stall to stall and building to building.

“How m-much further?” Celestia asked.

“Oh, it’s just along this way,” Cadenza replied.

The ponies glanced at her. Most raised their eyebrows, some gawked for longer than others, and a few whispered under their breaths. “Every week,” she heard one mutter.

Finally Cadenza stopped walking. The main street ended in a plaza. A fountain sat in the middle of a smooth marble plinth.

Cadenza waved her forward. A stone railing stretched across the far end of the square.

Celestia approached it carefully. As she reached it, she looked down. She saw the edge of the mountain stretching down, the forest sprawling below, train tracks winding into the distance. The sun sat near the horizon, drifting closer and closer to twilight.

Celestia rested a hoof on the railing. A light safety spell pushed against her.

“What do you think?”

“It is quite a n-n-nice view.”

“Princess Celestia had this city built after she banished Luna. She never told me exactly why or when construction started. But I suppose one can make a few guesses.”

Celestia leaned forward. The safety spell pressed harder against her chest, but she ignored it. A breeze brushed against her face.

“I know what you are g-g-going to say. You brought me h-here to lower my guard. And n-now you are going to tell me how it would be u-u-unfair to take that monster away from her new home.”

Celestia leaned back. “But this d-d-doesn’t change anything. If anything, it m-m-makes me think of all the life that monster destroyed.”

“Oh, don’t be silly.” Cadenza leaned on the railing. “I know you’re too old and wise for such cliches. I just thought you might like some fresh air, after everything you’ve been through.”

“Hmph, a well-trained d-d-diplomat, indeed.”

Cadenza took a deep breath. “I used to come here a lot when I was younger. There’s a lot of updrafts and downdrafts, it’s a good spot to fly.”

Celestia glanced around. The square had emptied. There had been a pony eating lunch, but they had likely left. She sensed no one, not even guards.

Celestia turned to Cadenza. She had closed her eyes.

“It would be a g-g-good place to kill someone.”

Cadenza opened her eyes at that. “Is that all you think about, anymore? Violence?”

“Dying…betrayal changes one’s outl-l-look.”

“I suppose it might.” Cadenza turned to Celestia. “But I wonder if it really did.”

“Exc-c-cuse me?”

“It would be quite easy for you to take Luna back by force. Violence and revenge is all you talk about. Why haven’t you just forced your way to her?”

“I had h-h-hoped my host would see reason.”

“You wouldn’t really even need to hurt anypony. Sleep magic, paralysis spells, binds, anything like that. If you really wanted to, none of us could stop you.”

“Are you giving me p-p-permission?”

“Of course not. But I wonder why you haven’t yet.”

“Perhaps I w-will, if everyone here is so int-t-tent on impeding justice.”

“I wonder if you really want to bring Luna back at all.”

Celestia furrowed her brow. “Why else would I b-be here, if not to mete out j-justice?”

“That’s the question I can’t figure out. Why would you be here?” Cadenza stroked her chin. The gesture was obviously an act. Cadenza had thought this out already.

“Perhaps you wanted to check on her?”

Celestia took her hooves off the railing. “Why would I want to check on th-th-that thing?”

Cadenza shrugged. “I really can’t say.” She gestured at her cutie mark. “Just because I’m the Princess of Love, doesn’t mean I have all the answers.”

Cadenza smiled. “I used to babysit Twilight, you know, back when she was young. She was so precocious and adorable, back then.” Cadenza chuckled. She drooped onto the railing a little as the memory surfaced. “I remember this one time, I pretended I had forgotten my saddlebags at her house, just because I wanted to see her again. I know it was silly, but I would make up excuses just so I could check up on her.” Cadenza turned to Celestia. “Sometimes it’s easier, that way. You don’t have to admit you love someone.”

“You dare accuse me of loving that th-thing? That m-monster?”

“Of course not. I was referring to myself.”

“You are not nearly as sssubtle or as c-c-clever as you think. Perhaps I was wr-wr-wrong about my host training her successors well.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Cadenza lowered herself from the railing. “Anyway, I suppose it is time to head back.” She waved a hoof. “After you. Unless you wanted to look at the view a little longer?”

“No, I have had en-n-nough.” Celestia turned away from the balcony.

Cadenza started toward the main street. “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, Princess Celestia. I think I was right. My time wasn’t wasted at all.”

The two remained silent during the entire walk back.

9. Deep into that Darkness Peering

Celestia entered the room quietly. The other Celestia sat at the same table, its food left untouched.

Celestia sat down across from her doppelganger. “Is the food not to your liking?”

The other Celestia smiled. She plucked one of the cherries from the bowl, placed it in her mouth, and bit it slowly. The skin of the fruit snapped, the pit crunched, and a little bit of juice popped out of it.

“Are you s-satisfied?”

“I notice that every time someone comes in here, you are always in the same spot. Are the bed and other chairs not to your liking?”

“It is all the s-same to me,” the other Celestia replied. “I h-have had more than enough s-sleep for a while.” She plucked another cherry from the bowl, then ate it in the same slow and deliberate manner. “My p-p-patience is wearing thin. Are you ready to turn ov-v-ver the monster yet?”

Celestia shook her head.

“That th-th-thing is dangerous. It is my res-s-s-sponsibility. I will return it to my Equestria, and it w-w-will serve its sentence.”

“And what will you do if I refuse?”

“Of all the ponies, y-y-you would defend it? You should understand m-m-most of all. I am the one who d-d-deserves justice here, not it.” The other Celestia leaned forward. “I will not let anyone s-s-stand in my way. Not you or anypony else has the r-r-right to deny my justice.”

“As the authority of…this Equestria, Luna falls under my jurisdiction. I feel she has served her time and more.”

“I d-disagree.” The other Celestia closed one eye. “I’ll use whatever means neces-s-ssary to ensure that it atones for its crimes.” It opened the eye. The sclera and pupil had changed to Discord’s, yellow and red.

Celestia frowned. “So Luna was right. You are just like her after all.”

“Don’t you d-dare!” A crack ran down the center of the table. The marble shuddered, but stayed in one piece. “That thing murdered and despoiled an ent-t-tire planet for p-petty, childish revenge. I did what I h-had to. I am h-here for justice. I am nothing l-l-like her.”

“Perhaps not.” Celestia templed her hooves. “I wonder, what will you do now? I refuse to turn over Luna to your authority. Will you take her by force? Will you kill me to get to her?”

“I would n-never dream of hurting anypony. But I would n-not need to.”

Celestia’s eyes widened. Chains had appeared around her hoofs and neck. It reminded her of Discord’s magic: no preamble or time to react, not even a flash of light. But then, perhaps ‘remind’ is too light a word, Celestia mused.

Celestia swallowed. Her throat caught on the iron links. “Lethality is not the only aspect of violence. If you use magic and coercion and force, then that makes you no better than any other villain.”

“Do not condes-s-scend to me.” The other Celestia blinked, and her other eye changed as well. “You think you are so p-perfect? So im-mmaculate? If not for that monster’s interv-v-vention, you would be j-just like me.” The other Celestia grimaced, and one of her canines had grown longer. “One b-b-betrayal is all that separates us.”

“Does it really? We have both experienced betrayal before. Too many to count.”

“N-n-not from her. Not from our onllly constant.”

The chains loosened slightly. Celestia inhaled, just enough to check their tightness. “I know how you feel. When she first told me what she did, I struck her. The betrayal consumed me. I thought I would never be the same again.” Celestia smiled her most reassuring smile. “But I did. I will. Someday, the pain will fade.”

“An empty p-p-platitude.”

“Even platitudes have their kernels of fact to them. Why else would they be repeated so often?” Celestia touched her chest, and the chains slackened just enough to allow the motion. “'Time heals all wounds.' We should know the truth of that particular cliche more than any other pony.”

“Can you be so s-sure? I can think of many wounds that do not heal,” the other Celestia said.

“We have been through worse, haven’t we? We have endured worse hardships, for the sake of ourselves and of our little ponies. Betrayal is no different.” Celestia’s smile faltered briefly. “Regardless of its source.”

The chains dissipated.

“Is it that s-s-simple?”

“Of course not. But simplifying something doesn’t necessarily make it less true.” Celestia stood up. “I think you are finally ready to talk to…our sister.” She turned to leave. “I trust you will make the right decision, afterward. I shall send her in.”

10. Hesitating then No Longer

“H-hello, monster.”

Princess Nightmare Moon sat down at the table. She had struggled to make eye contact the last time. Now she drank in every detail of Celestia’s body. Every smudge of dirt, every cut, every dent in her barding. The eyes in particular looked just like she remembered. “Hello, sister.”

“Our h-h-host has informed me that she intends to leave you here.”

“Yes.”

“This is your last ch-ch-chance to return of your own volition.” Celestia leaned forward. “What is-s your answer?”

“I’m sorry, sister, but I cannot go back.”

“That’s the only word you can mus-s-ster? ‘S-sorry?’ You believe that you have b-been absolved? That all the sssins carved on your soul have been erased?”

“Of course they haven’t!” Nightmare Moon averted her gaze. “After everything I’ve done, nothing could cleanse me. That is the problem. Everything I’ve done, to myself and others. It was all meaningless.”

“All those ponies you murdered were anything but m-m-meaningless.”

“That’s not what I meant. I—”

“What better p-punishment could there be, than to rebuild the world you d-destroyed? One plant, one stone, one p-pony at a time.”

“I can’t return there, sister. Even if I wanted to, even if I thought it could help. Nothing can make my sleep any more restful, make the memories any less painful. But going back there…” Nightmare Moon forced herself to look at Celestia. “I can’t go back, Celestia. I did so much to escape that graveyard. I know I don’t deserve my life here, but I can’t go back. It would destroy me, to return to that place.”

“If you will not returnnn willingly, then I can bring you by f-force.” Magic flooded the room. The air shimmered with heat, lightning crackled along the metal window frames. The change happened suddenly, but Nightmare Moon showed no surprise.

Nightmare smiled. “You know, sometimes, when I was alone, with nothing but skeletons and corpses, I fantasized about this. I imagined that you would return and punish me for everything I had done.” Nightmare Moon chuckled uncomfortably. “In fact, when you first appeared, those fantasies returned. They seemed so validated.” Nightmare Moon smile faded. “But fantasies like that are never healthy, are they?”

“Sh-shut up.” Celestia rose from her seat. “If you won’t return with me to our Equestria, then I sh-shall mete out your p-punishment here.” Her mane billowed, the air thickened with more magic and heat.

“Killing me won’t change anything,” Nightmare Moon whispered. “I wish it would, but it won’t.”

“It is better than nnothing.”

Nightmare Moon closed her eyes. “I’m ready, then.”

Celestia’s horn ignited. Lightning arced forward.

Nightmare Moon felt it approach. Even with her eyes closed, she could sense its path perfectly. The bolt tore across the carpets and table, burning a jagged line down the middle of the room. It shot straight towards her. The sound of crackling electricity and Celestia’s scream filled her ears. The bolt reached her, sizzled inches from her chest.

It veered away, brushed against her cheek.

Nightmare Moon opened her eyes. A long, black scorch mark traveled from Celestia to her, then swerved to the left and into a bookshelf.

Celestia stood there, tears trailing down her cheeks.

She stamped on the floor. “After everything, after all th-this, I can’t do it.” She slumped to the ground, buried her head in hooves. “You were r-right,” she whispered. “After everything, I’m j-just like you. A monster p-p-pretending at something they aren’t. Except I’m even w-worse than you are. I’m too weak to even get proper v-v-vengeance.”

Nightmare Moon approached her sister slowly. She knelt down and wrapped her hooves around Celestia’s body. The dirt and scars under Celestia’s coat rubbed against her.

“No, you are the strongest pony I know.” Nightmare Moon felt her tears leak into her sister’s coat. “I’m the weak one here. That’s why I have to stay. I’m too weak and pathetic and broken to go back with you. I’ve always been weak and selfish. That’s what started this in the first place.”

Both of them sat there, embracing each other, until the guards worked up the courage to check on them.

11. This Home by Horror Haunted

Celestia sat at the table, contemplating her food. She really should leave. Nothing remained here for her. Of course, nothing awaited her back in her Equestria, so procrastination wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Her ear flicked. “H-hello, Discord.”

“Princess Celestia.” Discord bowed. Celestia didn’t bother to look up, but she felt the slight displacement of air from the motion.

“What do you w-want?”

“Did you get my flower?”

“Obvious-s-sly.”

“The note was sincere, you know. Why, if anything, I respect you a lot more than my Celestia. You’ve got a lot more guts.” He leaned down, poked her with an elbow. “Get it?”

“I do not h-have the energy, Discord. Get to your p-point.”

“Ah, yes, I’m sure it’s been a draining week. Not much of a vacation, really. And so many chores waiting for you at home.”

“I s-suppose that is one way to put it.” Discord had always thrived on ponies reacting to him. No matter which Discord it was, the general details were the same. Celestia didn’t even have the energy to be annoyed by him.

“As a matter of fact, that’s why I’m here.” Discord put the flower he had given her on the table. “I’ve been wracking my brain trying to think of some way to make all those chores of yours a little easier.”

“Are you offering to h-help me?”

“Well, I’m not going back with you, if that’s what you’re asking. I hear your house is quite dreadfully dull.” Discord spun the flower around. “No no, I meant something more along the lines of ‘give a pony a sandwich, and he eats for a day’, etcetera etcetera.”

Celestia finally looked up. The flower had changed. Instead of a lily, a gray-brown, equine ear sat on top of the stem.

Discord plucked the ear up and stuck it back on his head.

“So it was a trap, af-f-fter all.”

“Celestia, you misunderstand me. I didn’t eavesdrop to hurt you! I only wanted to help.” Discord leaned down and planted an elbow on the table, a smug grin on his face. “And now that I have a more complete understanding of the situation, I know just what you need.” He cupped a hand around his mouth. “A secret.”

“A s-secret?”

“Yes, but not just any secret.” He pointed at Celestia’s chest. “I’m guessing the previous owner of your heart didn’t have time to give you lessons about chaos magic. You’ve done alright with it, certainly, but there are some subtleties to it. It’s a lot like pony magic, just with less rules.”

Discord leaned down further, brought his other arm onto the table. “Why there’s all sorts of things it can do.” He opened his mismatched paws, and a single strand of hair flopped onto the table. It shimmered and glowed, blue with bits of white on it.

Celestia watched him. She knew where the hair had come from, but his intentions were less clear.

Discord pulled the flower pot over. He poked the hair into the soil. It sat limply on top of the dirt.

“D-discord…”

“Now, now, just watch.” He pointed a claw at it, and Celestia felt magic flood into the flowerpot.

A flower sprouted. Or rather, the hair shifted and morphed and stretched, and it settled into the shape of a flower.

“I’m n-not sure how this helps me.”

“Oh, come now, Celestia. You were always a smart pony. Think about the principles, not the specifics.” He leaned in, grinned wryly. “Didn’t you wonder how you showed up, kicking and screaming, despite the missing heart?” He pointed at the flower. “The principles are all there. You just take a little trip through time, and grab something that won’t be missed. It could be as little as a strand of hair, it could be something quite a bit larger. And then, once you have this object, whatever it may be, you can do whatever you like with it.” Discord exhaled slowly, and Celestia felt his breath hit her face. It smelt like magic.

“Why, you could even breathe life back into it.”

Discord clapped a claw on Celestia’s shoulder. “I meant it, you know. No hard feelings about whatever you did to one me or the other.” He waved a hand at the flower. “Here, have a flower, to replace the other one I gave you. Trust me, no one will miss it.”

Discord disappeared, and silence fell across the room.

12. Let Me Quaff this Kind Nepenthe

Celestia took a deep breath. “The weather team did a wonderful job with the autumn air. It is just the right temperature.”

“Indeed,” Luna replied.

Celestia continued walking. She barely remembered the last time she had went out disguised. The walk felt so long when her legs were shorter.

“Anyway, as I was saying.” She nodded to a bend in the road. “The garden is just this way.”

Celestia glanced sideways at Luna. Or ‘Moon Crater’, she should say. Luna had elected to be a unicorn this time. Her coat and mane were the same general colors. Her cutie mark looked almost identical, just slightly smaller.

“It has been so long since I went out in disguise. I keep worrying I will trip on these shorter legs,” Celestia said.

“Hmm.”

A thought struck Celestia. “Is this how you feel all the time, sister? Scrunched into a body that is slightly too small?”

“I suppose I adjusted to it, after a while.”

Celestia decided not to press the matter.

Finally they arrived. The public garden looked vibrant, as always. A concrete wall ringed the entire park, but the curtain of plants and flowers over it had grown so thick that it looked like a single, dense hedge.

Celestia waved a hoof, and Luna followed after her toward the center of the park.

A few ponies glanced at them. A few whispered amongst themselves. It had certainly been some time since Celestia had last gone for a walk. The ponies left her be. The disguise was meant to broadcast her desire for privacy, not hide her identity. At least the ponies in the park could guess the general purpose.

Celestia sat down on a rough wooden bench. “Here it is.”

Luna showed no emotion. She sat down next to Celestia. “It is quite lovely,” she said.

The flowers looked just as immaculate as they had the first time. A half-moon made of white lilies and blue gromwell took up one side of the display. A half-sun made from orange poppies and yellow bush daisy took up the other. Purple roses circled the area, pockmarked with flowers meant to represent birds and clouds and other ornaments of the sky.

“It has been quite a long time since I visited here.” Celestia sat back on the bench. “I suppose I never told you the story.”

“I suppose there were other things to catch up on.”

Celestia nodded. “I had it commissioned some time after you were banished. One day, I looked at all the buildings and bridges, and I realized something. I had too much control over everything. Every piece of architecture in the city, I had input in its design. The weather team would report to me monthly, weekly, daily about how the clouds and rain and wind should progress. The sun and moon ticked away because I told them, too.”

Celestia smiled. “So I had an idea. I commissioned a new park, a public area. I intentionally offered no oversight, no direction, no advice. The city planners and architects certainly tried to get my guidance, but I would always tell them I was busy, or that I trusted their judgement.

“I wanted to see my little ponies make something, anything, all by themselves. I wanted a part of the city I could go to that I had nothing to do with.”

Celestia waved a hoof at the central display. “This is what they came up with.”

Luna smiled. “Perhaps they misunderstood your orders.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps they wanted to pander to me.” Celestia frowned. “After the usual openings and ribbon-cuttings, I never visited this park again. This is the first time I’ve been here since.” Celestia sighed. “I’m still not sure why. Seeing that sun and moon…perhaps it made me think of you. Perhaps looking at it was too painful. Perhaps I wanted to bring you here with me, like going here without you was some sort of crime. I guess I can’t really say why I ignored it for so long.”

They both stared at the garden.

“Earlier, when I asked if you hated me…you never gave me a proper answer,” Luna said.

“I don’t hate you, Luna.” Celestia continued staring at the garden. “But…I don’t love you either. After everything that has happened, it will be a long time before I can.”

Luna continued staring at the garden as well. She blinked and a tear trickled down her cheek. “Thank you for being honest with me, sister.”

“I’m sorry, sister.”

Luna shook her head. “No, I’m glad. I would take the unpleasant truth over a pleasant lie any day.”

“Maybe it is a sign of growth, in its own way.”

“It is really quite a lovely display.”

Celestia nodded. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

13. Wrought its Ghost Upon the Floor

Celestia lurched sideways into a tree. “I’ll n-n-never get used to that,” she muttered to herself. Jumping across timelines disoriented her. It felt like teleporting while on a torture rack, like her body stretched and broke as she stood in a single place. She took a deep breath.

She looked up. The sun and moon had shifted, of course. She focused on them, and their position and the stars confirmed the date and time. She looked up. The Everfree Forest smelled the same as always. Her old castle loomed ahead of her.

She shook her head. Even if she had the timing right, she needed to focus. She cast a vision spell, and looked towards the window that she knew must be Luna’s bedroom. She inhaled sharply.

Luna was there. Nightmare Moon stood next to her. They were talking, gesturing. Luna cast a spell, and a lash of magic cut across Nightmare Moon’s chest.

Celestia looked away. “Too m-m-much magic might draw attention to me,” she told herself. She waited. She knew what was about to happen, but that didn’t mean she had to watch it.

Seconds passed. Minutes followed. The sun’s position ticked slowly, but surely, ensuring she knew exactly how much time had passed.

She winced. The scream sounded faint, even to her magically enhanced hearing. But it wafted out the window and down to her spot nonetheless.

She waited again. She recast the vision spell. Nightmare Moon had left the room, blue flames licked at the corners. Now was the time.

She teleported into the room, right next to Luna’s side. She winced at the sight. Luna’s blood had already coated the floor, her eyes had rolled upwards, her wings and legs poked out at odd angles.

Celestia took a deep breath and knelt down. A minor spell would keep the flames away. And no doubt her alternate self and Nightmare Moon would be too distracted by each other to notice her magic.

It took a while. Celestia had to coax air back into Luna’s lungs, fix all her broken limbs. She had to straighten every bone, every tendon, every vein and capillary that had been damaged.

She leaned down, gingerly lifted up Luna’s head. Luna’s lips still felt warm, the heat of life still clinging to her body.

Celestia kissed her. She poured magic into Luna’s body. Her lips and horn tingled as they rubbed against Luna’s. It only lasted a few moments, but for once, Celestia ignored her connection to the sun and let herself lose track of time.

Luna screamed. Her eyes snapped open and she screamed again. After all that, Luna lay there, sucking in breath after breath. Finally, once she had enough strength and air, she screamed a third time. Each one sounded so quiet, so fragile.

Celestia embraced her sister. She leaned down, put her mouth right next to Luna’s ear. She used the gentlest, most comforting tone she could muster. “D-don’t worry, s-sister. I’m h-here. Now let me t-take you home.”

They disappeared in a flash of light.