Lights Of The Skies

Chapter One: Unexpected Guests

The many great jubilations of the unicorns. Known across Gaia for their excesses and protocol. Dignitaries from visiting tribes and kingdoms and empires speak highly of the rare luxuries and lowly of the attitude of those assembled. Such judgement is most common.

Grand balls and magnanimous galas, elaborate ceremonies and sung-about affairs. Food and drink in abundance. Opulent and shining. The coming-of-age celebrations of the Ancient House Melûmenar can be said to be no different, except possibly for the friendlier disposition compared to other Houses.

A grand and ancient bloodline*, greatly esteemed and highly regarded amongst their peers. Their halls are many and grandiose, wonderfully made. Their history is well-known. As are the names of most of their House.

Yet not many ponies inquire deeply about the two heiresses to House Melûmenar, since their endeavours and the greater aspects of their futures are widely considered common knowledge among all unicorns of all provinces, as with the members to all great noble Houses. The daughters of one the greatest Houses of unicorns go unnoticed unless they attend some of these rather pompous events, characteristic of unicorn nobility. Mostly.

An exception being made when one of them was the purpose of said event.

*Further information found under Aūne-Melûmenar, inscribed by Head-Scribe Dipped Quill. History Chambers of Aūne-Lerien.

—Academic Work Chambers of Aūne-Lerien, 'Aūne Alumálelyēne Erlēwen'. Scribe Evening Sun's commentary.

~~~~~

A peaceful knock on the door. Sunlight poured into the windows of a grand bedchamber, pink and gold through the stained glass. The figure of a young mare twitched between the linen covers and downy feather pillows.

Pastel bedding was strewn around and thrown to the floor unconsciously. Bedposts of sculpted mahogany supported the bed's canopy. The mare's back hooves stuck out of the bed, as she had become rather tall this last year.

The pony outside the room knocked just a bit harder. The mare's snowy white ears moved about. Her eyelids fluttered lazily.

Then her eyes shot open. It was today. She couldn't be late, no matter how much she wished for it. She sat up.

'Yes? Come in, if you please,' called the dulcet voice of the sheet-entangled mare through a mouthful of pink mane. The door was opened noiselessly. Quite the small orange pony walked in.

Sunflower was her name in the common tongue, and when in privacy, the heiress did not speak Onmaulïé. The clothes of servants she wore did not do much to hide or diminish the prettiness of her pixie-like face. Simple blue robes and a lady-in-waiting's flower coronet highlighted her freckled face and straight black mane. She was not quite as beautiful as her lady before her, but rather what one might call 'cute'.

'Good morning. Sorry to disturb you, milady, but I was asked by your father to help prepare you for this afternoon.' The maid's apologising was in a volume almost inaudible by pony ears.

'Oh. 'Tis okay. I need all the help that can be found,' said Celestia, heir to the throne of the Ancient House and guest of honour of that night's coming-of-age ball. She smiled with one of the corners of her mouth as she levitated a beautifully-carved wooden brush to the back of her head. It had been crafted for her by a visiting artisan when she was a filly.

Sunflower's aura took it from her to commence the brushing of the half-asleep unicorn's long entangled mane. She brushed slowly and gently, taking care to not hurt, but smoothen. To undo the tangles so her lady would not have to tug at them in her bath. Something she had done since she was small. Since they had played together.

Meanwhile, Celestia looked at her own visage in the enchanted crystal of her mirror. The sections of her crest not being brushed resembled brambles more than hair. Her fur was messy. Disorganised.

Long and slender like she who it was attached to, the horn that projected from her forehead would need to be polished before she could present herself. Her glimmering violet eyes had a few veins visible.

Multicoloured bedclothes, rumpled, only contributed to the list of things Father would not approve of if he saw them anywhere outside her chambers.

Sighing softly, the heiress got up for her mirror-stool to bathe. The servant ceased her brushing and sat silently as the white mare walked to the other side of the room. Celestia stepped into the bathing room, disrobing piece by piece as she went. The marble floors and pumice columns of the space gave it a cool atmosphere. The water-duct over the bathing pool was carved from yellow crystal, making the room shimmer slightly from the torches on its walls. She unlocked the water-duct and waited while a pleasantly warm jet flowed from it, directly from the castle's water talisman.

As the bath filled to its immense capacity, she wondered about her sister. Surely Luna was already prepared and being fitted with her dress by their Mother's tailors. While she adored spending time with her sister, the celebration would surely be uneventful for them both, making the precious time feel wasted. She shook herself from her thoughts as steam reached her nose. The fair white unicorn stepped into the water, carefully locking the water-duct as she did.

To the side of the bathing pool was a large variety of oils in an equally large variety of containers. Most of them were taken into her aura, opened, and poured in their entirety into the water. The vapour smelled of roses and other flowers and spices, the perfume wafting into her nose.

Water's surface remained peaceful, undisturbed by Celestia as she lay on the submerged seat built into the pool. The liquid wrapped around her, comforting, and warmed her to her insides. She was tempted, for a moment, to lose herself to sleep inside it.

Time ceased to exist. As her body soaked in the water (mixed with many oils and extracts) she ruminated.

Her father would prepare a grand feast and ball, something (in the eyes of the other nobles) worthy of his title as Laēlas Laulïé of the southern province of Mântælyr. There would be many guests hailing from many places in Onmêlemyr (so did the unicorns call their lands). Food and drink would be plenty. Yet Father cared more about the blessings and prophecy-songs of the great elders, travelling through the snow and storms from the sacred crystal caves of Marwē-Æren. The event would be long, but she would endure it for Father's sake.

'Milady?' The voice of Sunflower, soft-spoken through the thickness of the door, pulled her back to the present. 'Sorry to be the one to disturb your peace. Again... But the tailor is here to do the final fitting on your gown for tonight...'

'Yes.' Replied Celestia, blinking the relaxing haze away. 'Forgive me, Sunflower. I shall be out in a moment.'

'Of course.'

Stepping out of the scented bath, she resisted the urge to shake herself, choosing instead a soft drying-cloth that would leave her coat more appropriate for a dress fitting. She dried her wet fur and stepped into modest under-robes, blue as the sky and with a golden trim in the image of winding magic channels.

Celestia exited into her bedroom. Already, the tailor, a stallion who appeared to be the tailor's assistant, and Sunflower awaited her. The tailor curtsied; her assistant bowed after a small pause. She couldn't remember this particular tailor's name, yet her azure coat and thin, pointed face seemed to be familiar to a degree.

Squinting golden eyes seemed to examine her, determining how to best accentuate her features. The tailor's bag overflowed with materials, fabric, fibres, and the tools of her trade. Beside it lay a package; a reddish wooden box with a silver clasp and considerable size. The tailor herself was dressed in what might have been one of her own pieces: a simple robe-dress the shade of autumn leaves that shimmered in the light. A needle-shaped broach adorned it. The assistant had a silver robe and royal-blue mane. He was young, but not as much as Celestia herself.

'Your dress for tonight is ready, lady.' Said the tailor with pride. 'I only need to make minute adjustments so it fits you perfectly.'

'Thank you...' Celestia trailed off, for it was always embarrassing when she forgot a name. She blushed involuntarily.

'Loom, madam. My name is Loom.' Responded the tailor with a dip of her head. Her voice was authoritative and educated, fitting her unamused stare and short-cropped and carefully styled locks.

'And I would be Linen Weave' Added the assistant with a smile. Loom glared at him pointedly. He shrank to a size smaller than should have been possible. 'Sorry...'

Throughout the exchange, Sunflower stood respectfully to the side, waiting to see if she would be required further.

The tall, opal unicorn moved to stand a few centimetres from the tailor. She stood perfectly straight, as she had been taught. Miss Loom began unlocking the box's clasp, levitating it in front of Celestia. The mare with the serious expression looked at Sunflower. And raised her eyebrow.

'Oh. Yes.' The small marigold mare's tongue stumbled over her words. 'I... I'll go now.' She started toward the door, struggling internally to not let her head hang.

'Wait.' Celestia turned her head to look at her. She smiled a small smile. 'Stay. I may still require your presence.'

'Very well.' Said the tailor as she finally opened the box and took out a folded dress. Her bag was promptly unpacked, the contents being carefully arranged between her and Celestia, needle by needle and spool by spool. 'Please stand as still as you can and don't move.' Ordered Loom. She obeyed.

The garments were slowly unfolded and the box laid on the floor again. Every section was subsequently put on Celestia one piece at a time. She couldn't help but stare in the mirror.

A tight-fitting violet piece of fabric hugged her neck; designs of crystals in enchanted silk covered the piece. Her barrel and chest were wrapped with a shapely half-robe of gold thread. The way the clothes overlapped and intertwined reminded her, in a way, of trees and vines. Loose purple sleeves hung around her front legs, decorated with golden trim and silver thread. A dress of the same colour covered her hindquarters, draping over them; parted in half as to not obstruct her tail—for it was a quite long tail.

The tailor gestured at her assistant, who passed her a needle and thread made of crystal. She stitched and stitched, bringing the garment together into one piece. Contemplated practically, the fitting was a quick thing, and could've waited until the afternoon; yet tradition insisted the dress be worn for the length of the day.

Celestia simply stared as Miss Loom continued her work carefully and meticulously. It was beautiful. And she was quite fond of beautiful things of any kind. The usually majestic bookshelves and wardrobes of her room paled in comparison. She took in its every detail until, after what seemed like a meagre second, Linen Weave started packing the tailor-bag again. As he stuffed every material and tool inside, the tailor looked accomplished and smug.

There were only two words the newly-dressed mare could mutter: 'Thank you.' Or maybe three more: 'It's very beautiful.' At this, Loom only nodded. She turned to exit, her poor assistant bumbling behind her. They closed the door after themselves, leaving the heiress and the servant alone inside mauve walls. Celestia sat down carefully as to not rumple the beautiful piece.

'What did you require me for, milady?' Asked Sunflower with some sheepishness. She fidgeted with her hooves awkwardly. Celestia smiled again.

'Nothing, really.' She winked. 'I just enjoy talking to you.' She said honestly, nodding. She had truly enjoyed the servant's company for many years, calling her a friend.

Opening the jewellery case Mother had gifted her some birthdays ago, Celestia picked up her tiara in a golden shimmer, placing the small object of crafted metal and precious stones upon her head and tucking her mane neatly behind it. She also put on a ruby necklace of interlinking chains and small gems.

'Are you excited, milady?' Inquired the small mare.

'Not really.' Explained the larger one. 'It will be a party, but not for me and my friends.' She consciously deviated her gaze towards that freckled face and sighed. 'It will be for the visitors. And for Father. I know his intentions are good, but I would prefer to learn to help the ponies here instead of learning how to please the rest of the nobility.'

'Don't be sad.' Replied her friend softly, momentarily 'forgetting' the title on purpose, looking directly at her with deep emerald eyes and smiling nervously but supportively. 'We'll have a party tomorrow; if we can get away with it. Your sister, Nightbloom, us; all four of us. We'll bake some cake.'

'Thank you.' Said Celestia, and she meant it. She finished putting on the necklace. There was a rather comforting pause. It lasted a few minutes, but it was warm.

'Shall we meet your sister, then?' Sunflower asked as she opened the door in a sweeping motion.

'Yes. I think we shall.' The alabaster unicorn in her exquisite dress stood up, the fabric waving and shimmering. She followed Sunflower to the gardens outside.

Rays and beams of sunlight illuminated every surface in the gardens. They filtered through the canopies of many a great tree and gave a greenish light. They shone upon the many flowers and the smaller trees; lit up the great crystal fountain. Said fountain stood proud in the midst of the space, shaped like a tree itself; not geometric like many crystal-things, but rather as flowing as the water that ran from it. The streams of water flowed into artificial rivers that webbed the garden and watered everything in it. Every flower that grew here was in perpetual and eternal bloom from many incantations and magics.

On the other side of this breathtaking garden stood a mare almost as tall as Celestia herself: Luna. The midnight-blue mare wore a similar dress-robe to her sister, but darker in colour and much less elaborate in appearance. Her long mane and tail were braided and interwoven with silver and flowers. Her expression lit as she saw Celestia and Sunflower approach.

To her right stood another servant with a coat black as the night-sky and a cascading mane white as the light of stars. Nightbloom was her name. Ice-blue eyes shone in her face.

Luna and Celestia rested their heads on the other's shoulder in greeting.

'It is very good to see you, Tia.' The endearing name made the white mare blush.

'You too, Lulu.' She nodded with friendliness to the other servant she had known for years and come to call friend; sadly, protocol had to be observed. Nightbloom never smiled much, but Celestia could tell she was happy for her. They walked calmly.

And so, the four mares went off to see the king.

They entered the main section of the massive castle and wound through passageways of stone lit by floating blue lights. Many ancient cosmetic runes carved on the walls made stone appear as marble, jade, and gold.

At last, they entered the great hall of Mênarlaulïén—the hall of the eternal kings. It preceded the throne-room, but was no less glorious. Great columns made of golden trees hanging with glass vines supported the open circle that composed the ceiling.

Anywhere else, rain would have been a problem, but through wards nothing but fair weather ever reached the halls of House Melûmenar. The roots of such sculptures seemed to melt and fuse into the ground, creating a mosaic of the starry skies.

Between the columns stretched spiderwebs. Yet these were not of any spiders, but rather magic-webs. They silently displayed the history of the House for all in the hall to see and wonder. There were moving-pictures that refracted the light in such a way that scenes played: the first unicorns, who had still called themselves Onmêlem, for they knew no tongue but their own: the One-Tongue, the first daughters and sons of Melûmenar forging the star gems from moon- and sun-light, the Houses rising, and the building of Eŵenlor; the halls of the forest. The webs bathed the four companions, for they could be called that, in white and blue light.

The two servant-friends stood at the bottom of the stairs which led to the throne room gate, which stood proudly proclaiming its lord and lady. The sisters stepped forward and spoke in practised unison, reciting words they had been taught in the languages of their ancestors:

'Naulên nelëydas Eŵen Laulïén' Their voices rang clear and melodic. The enormous gate knew. They wished to see the king of the forests, and they spoke as daughters of the House. The door glowed, and with not even a whisper, it parted open like a curtain.

On the other side, two guards stood, marked in arcane runes which glowed as their eyes did. Motionless as if they were part of of the chamber, they did not even breathe. Their armour, forged in the image of the rolling waves of the open sea, covered them but for their eyes, ears, and tails. They nodded at Luna and Celestia with perfect synchronisation and respectful demeanour.

Both heiresses walked as fast as they could, their dress-robes trailing behind them, to greet their mother and father.

Father sat regally in his throne made from ancient roots which rose to the heavens, as he always had. He had led an unusually long life; his pure-white face, however, did not show it. Not a single wrinkle marked him, only smile lines. His auburn mane was arranged into many braids, made themselves from smaller braids and arranged around his horn. A crown of red-wood branches, golden filigree, and red autumn leaves sat upon it. Heavy robes with a lattice of many shimmering silk and glass-strings rested on his shoulders. As all unicorns, he had no beard. His lips parted to grin as he laid eyes upon his daughters.

Their mother's expression was cold, yet softened at least some when she saw them approach. Golden fur and a stark-black mane glinted, ice-like, in the prismatic light of her husband's garments. Silver lattice and gems shaped like berries were twined in her hairs. The seat beneath her was fashioned of the same gold that covered the floors. Her horn was slender in the same way of her neck—and sharp. Elegant might have been a better word.

Their daughters were nuzzled gently by them. Celestia leaned against her father's downy but strong chest—as did Luna—while her mother caressed their heads.

'Hello, Lewëylé.' Said Morning Star gently, his custom of calling them 'little ones' made the sisters blush. 'How did you sleep?' The cloudy voice made Celestia feel safe.

'Hello, Father' She said adoringly. Luna resolved to answer the question.

'We slept pleasantly. It was a good night.'

'That is good. Today is a very special day and it would do no good to be tired. It does good to be excited, however.' His gentle laughter was deep and rich; it filled the room.

He lifted his gaze past his guards, to the door, now parting open. He smiled. 'I am very sorry, my loves, but you must go now; it would seem we have the first petitioners.' While Celestia hesitated, wanting to remain and observe, Luna kissed her father and mother farewell and turned to depart. Soon, the elder sister followed.

More preparations had to be made for the ceremony later that night until court came to an end. The siblings and their friend-servants would have quite a long day before it began.

~~~~~

Celestia smiled a tired smile as she sat on a small throne that had been erected that same day. It was quite uncomfortable, and the heiress much missed her bed and her sitting-pillows. Her sister sat beside her, in a place of honour, yet not on the centre. Her mother and father stood behind them in full formal robes. The banquet hall had been prepared. Root-chandeliers hung from the column-branches, illuminating every small corner with rainbow-coloured light. She could see Luna observing them intently with wide eyes, as if she had not seen such things before.

A great feast-table with many cakes and greens and fruits and drinks occupied half of the hall, the raised throne-platform half of the other half. Many guests sat and stood. Many conversed. Others waited.

All fell silent at the sound of three very particular and weighty sets of hooves.

Hoods covered their faces. Postures firm. Their hooves were heavy and strong with security. They were old, yet their wisdom far outweighed their years. They walked from other places. From afar. They had come down from their mountain to give prophecy-songs. Envoys of the Eolïé. The elders from Marwē-Æren. All eyes followed their path as they approached the dais. Their ethereal robes rippled like ocean-currents.

'Welcome.' Said Morning Star. He bowed slightly.

'We accept your welcome, Eŵen-Laulïén.' Spoke the mare in the midst with a voice young yet so old. Her eyes seemed to see both nothing at all and everything there was, would be, or had been. 'And we bring you a song for those who are now princesses.' He nodded, not in understanding, but in acceptance.

'You must be mistaken.' Said Luna, turning to them with furrowed eyebrows.' 'Tis my sister's ceremony, not yet mine.'

The mare fixated on her with a much-knowing stare. 'We do not make mistakes.' She stated in a simple but final manner. 'The Erŵenmēr do not make mistakes. The seeing-pools show only the truth. Sometimes clouded, yet always true. As the moon rises, so do two princesses. Now be silent and listen to the song given to us by the Erŵenmēr. Do not hear. Listen.' The asker was silenced.

A single sustained note filled the air. Pure and transparent. Three voices merged to one. The passing wind bent into whistling music around it. Words began. They sang in Onmaulïé, yet all was understood only to the sisters. And all was song.

The earth yet breathes,
The stars yet shine
The lights now wreathe
You with their light
The son of dawn lives yet free
Forge-fires shine, the crystal gleams
Mountain-roots and scrolls of leaves
Lay asleep, in slumbers deep
But rising storm, and coming cold
Leave the forges with ash for gold
Daughters of eldest star of dawn,
Swords by destiny are drawn
Hewn are the fates, spun is the tale
Cold are the blades, strong is the gale
Bitter the cup, yet sweet the yields
Brightest of stars, darkest of nights
Companions forged as ancient steel
Strife descends upon these fields.

The envoys ended their song almost abruptly, leaving Celestia and Luna dazed. Then, without much preamble or delay, they exited. To make the journey back to their mountain. To gaze into their seeing-pools. Their pace was calm, but not slow. No one followed or attempted to say anything. Not one soul invited them to stay. No one would question the strange ways of the Eolïé.

They left. These being the great forest-halls, the conversation was soon revived. The atmosphere was once more relaxed.

Luna looked at her sister, wondering if they should try to interpret the song. Celestia began talking to the approaching nobles from other Houses, welcoming any distraction and calm that could be found. The king and queen of the forest were also engaged in conversations, even if they looked to their daughters from time to time. So she who was apparently now also a princess followed their example.

A pair of ponies approached Celestia. Their iron-covered hooves clanged upon the floor. This was, however, a very unusual pair of nobility to be seen. They were not of Onmêlemyr, but from the vast Eryalem-Kingdoms to the north-west. One was covered in grey armour made for cold, with animal-furs and skins, engraved with Earthish runes. It was geometric instead of smooth, as was the craft of his people. He displayed a grand aquamarine beard, braided and combed, and wild hair. He appeared to have a shaved tail.

The other wore nothing but the most simple of earth-pony-clothes—a breastplate and trousers and such. All squareish. Yet her fur had the shining appearance of stained glass—cherry-red, with a cropped chartreuse mane. They bowed their heads with respect.

'Grandest of nights to you, princess.' Greeted the mare. 'I am Emerald Crown, ambassador from the earth-kingdom of Khäzin-Moryad to your people. My companion is Iron-Clad.' She chuckled behind a raised hoof. Iron-Clad bowed his grey head again. 'We wish to congratulate you. Both for your coming-of-age and your birthday.'

'Thank you, Lady Emerald. And grandest of nights to you as well.' The ambassador seemed quite friendly. And well-wishing.

'I accept your thanks, princess.' Emerald Crown curtsied graciously. 'I hope much more merriment comes to these halls.' She smiled.

Iron-Clad grunted through his head-scarf.

'If you will excuse me, I must now speak to your father.' Celestia nodded, watching the crystal-mare walk to her father, companion in tow. She stopped for a moment, thinking; she was now princess. The ponies would now call her by a chosen name in the tongue of the ancients. She would have to learn to rule fairly. She blinked and craned her neck to see the ambassador's congratulations to her father.

A thin gold drinking-cup rolled slightly on the crystal floor. One of the servers must have dropped it.

An elaborately-dressed stallion stopped the crystal-mare, and began speaking to her. She giggled. Iron-Clad stood by stoically. She excused herself, turning to the king again.

The cup came to a standstill. Sweet unicorn-wine bled on the floor.

The mare initiated conversation.

What she had to say must have been important, for Morning Star sent the ponies assembled near him away; they went off to find other talking-companions. The forest-king leant toward her to hear her whispers in his ear. He leant closer. And closer. He smiled with pride, which made his eldest daughter smile in turn.

His smile faltered some. His muscles tensed suddenly.

His smile turned into a gasp.

Celestia was taken aback. A crimson liquid trickled down the red pony's front leg. A single drop fell to the ground. An exhalation could be heard through the hall, like the growling of a wolf. A hacking cough. Specks of red spittle flew from Father's lips into the air. He crumbled.

A gleaming metal handle stuck out from the soft fur of his chest, exactly on his heart. Father's body shook with every forced breath. He bled under the handle. He coughed again and again. Eyes became dull for the first time since they opened.

'Ah.' His final breath signalled his soul leaving his body, shaking the world before being swept by the wind.

A wailing scream rang out: 'Father!' Celestia did not know if it was her or her sister. The guards of Melûmenar surrounded the ambassador and her companion in a blur of movement. There was menace in their glowing eyes. They growled. Runes whirled around them in a storm as they spoke. A raging tongue. Mighty incantations.

Before they could cast any spells, a small army leapt down from the branches. They landed everywhere, breaking glass and bending metal. One by one, the scarred and painted warriors screamed hate. All of them clad in armour and with weapons ready.

With a swift motion and a swift hissing sound of steel, the soldiers of the House lay bleeding and agonising on the ground. They murmured Tongue hopelessly; they could not heal themselves from the slits in their throats. The runes spat electricity and wild sparks.

Puddles of their blood mixed with the spilled wine. Red on red, shining like a mirror.

Servers lay on the floor; slitted wounds marred their bodies.

The sisters were paralysed; they only stood.

Their mother, her robes torn and tears streaking her cheeks, stood with great pain and difficulty. Scratches seeped. Rage boiled inside her. She levitated the dagger out of her fallen husband's body with care. It made a hissing sound, like a poised snake.

She stabbed Emerald Crown with all her strength. Again. Again. And again. The ambassador looked up from the shining stream of crimson flowing from her barrel. And smiled.

Her smile was wide and unnatural.

'I am but a humble farmer...' Her eyes became all-grey. Cold winter famines and the bite of ice swirled behind them. She rasped through ragged breaths. She chuckled. A voice sounded like breathing through a tunnel. From her throat, yet not hers. Unlike the voice of any living creature. 'Reaping the fruit of the seeds of war.' With one last breathy laugh, she collapsed into the puddles. Blood splashed.

The ambassador exhaled her last breath.

Her dishonourable army pounced upon the queen like a pack of hungry lions. Unnatural rage and spite covered their faces. They leapt. Their many blades were ready to tear her apart without remorse.

Before they reached her, her horn lit up. The light burst. Movement slowed down. The assassins fell slowly through the time-spell, their expressions darker and icier through it. A tear fell from her eye. It glittered like a diamond, falling into the crimson.

She smiled warmly at her daughters. From the every corner of her soul, with all the love she could express, for she could never express it again. Her eyes said it would all be okay. She muttered a Word. She teleported them.

In a flash, the ceremonial thrones were empty. The enemies fell upon her. Yet the queen was happy in her final moments.

~~~~~

With a burst of light, Celestia and Luna found themselves in the garden, crashing into a running Sunflower and Nightbloom. Fabric shredded. They almost fell. They could not speak.

'Lulu! Tia!' Protocol was forgotten. They panted. The smaller mares saw the tears and dirtiness of the sisters' faces. Their crushed expressions.

'Noises. Screams. Running.' Nightbloom was hyperventilating and rapidly blinking. 'Us. Out. Now!' Sunflower stood with moist eyes, quietly breathing.

A confusion of hurried words followed. Somehow, the sisters ended up sprinting, following their friends through a maze of corridors. Their hearts raced until they felt like bursting, and then more. Stone clacked under their hooves.

In the end, they came to the servant's quarters and the armoury. Scores of hoofsteps followed them. They entered the armoury quickly. The rarely-used implements of battle hung on racks and walls. Three walls and one entryway. No escape. It was a bag's end.

Sunflower started weakly hitting sections of wall with desperation. Celestia and Luna stood unsure in the centre of the room. The small orange mare started hitting gems. One of them clicked. The wall parted like a waterfall suddenly obstructed by a rock. Nightbloom hurriedly gave assorted small weapons to all of them, stowing them in their robe-belts.

'Run!' Shouted Nightbloom, un-hilting a small guard-sword from its scabbard. She picked up a shield, turned to face the entrance. Luna opened her mouth to object. The marching hoofsteps grew closer. 'I said run!' She yelled forcefully. With hesitation, the other three began galloping into the hidden passage. The sound of metal on metal followed them. War cries.

'Come here, snake-spawn. You shall not enter this room!' She sounded determined, born for battle. She grit her teeth and prepared to face the earth-assassins. She pushed her three friends completely inside with a strong wave of magic. She screamed at the incoming hordes.

Inside the tunnel, they had stumbled to the ground, falling over one another.

Luna got to her hooves and ran back in the direction of the armoury. She couldn't leave Nightbloom alone. She called out. The wall closed in front of her. Fresh tears ran freely. The cries and sounds of cutting filtered through the solid. 'Nighty!'

Something hit the wall with a great bang. More.

They did the only thing they could: they ran. Their visions were obscured by the grief in all their eyes. Now-ripped and torn robe-tails trailed behind the sisters. Nothing trailed behind Sunflower. They followed the secret tunnels, knowing not where they would lead.

Bends and forks. They ran between the old walls, shaped from living roots. There was no light, yet somehow they stayed close together; anchored to each other when nothing else was certain. The shock inside their hearts was too strong to fully register what had happened. It was surreal, like a dream.

Or rather a nightmare.

Over twisted roots and through winding passages they travelled, guided by each other. No purpose or destination, only 'far away'. Only 'stay close'; 'stay together'. Their once-beautiful garments now hung in tatters and knots. Their home was overrun.

Light shined from far away. The light at the end of their tunnel. Small wisps of moon-beams filtered through just ahead.

As they approached the light, the roots slowly started parting. Distance closed, roots opened. They seemed to breathe. The escapees breathed even more heavily. Celestia stepped slowly into the moonlight, followed by Luna, and then Sunflower. After the gloom of the roots, even the meagre light of the moon blinded them.

Water ran in front of them. Soft sand gave way underneath their weight. Soft like their parents' embrace. Shattering of glass could be heard in the distance. Not able to support herself, Celestia collapsed to her four knees. And wept. Not a word was spoken. Not a sound was heard but muted sobbing. Luna sat down next to her, all strength leached from her. She stared with unfocused eyes; to nothing.

'F—Father...' Luna's voice trailed off. The tone was forced. Tears could be heard through her words. 'He is not... He cannot be... Tia... He... And... Ni—Nighty...' She trembled uncontrollably small spasming gasps racked her. A scowl oppressed her eyes. Her ears fell. They drowned together in the choking feeling.

The sisters cried.

Sunflower stood back, feeling grief for her friends, yet unsure of what to do. Not knowing what else she could do, she placed herself in the middle and hugged each sister, hoping the pain would go away. They wept into her chest. She did the only thing she could; she cried softly for them.