You Could Feel the Sky

by NorrisThePony

Rating: everyone
Tags: Princess Celestia, Twilight Sparkle, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1009

At the end of the world, Twilight must convince Celestia to let go.

At the end of the world, Twilight must convince Celestia to let go.

(Originally written for the Twilestia is Bestia Lightning Round, expanded upon and made into a one shot.)

Published 2016-03-25 22:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-03-25 22:50:01 UTC

Resistance

Thump.

There it was again. This time, the deafening sound of the sky cracking was accompanied by the ceiling above her doing quite the same. Twilight had to leap out of the way as a heavy bit of the castle roof tumbled above, striking the marble floor and exploding.

Canterlot Castle was falling.

Again.

Twilight did her best not to care as she sprinted through the imploding corridors. She had bigger priorities, after all.

Fallen bits of mortar and other structural debris blocked the way to the throne room before her, but she dispatched that with a blast of her magic and a few powerful flaps of her wings carried her over the rubble and into the blinding ocean of light that was the throne room.

The sound of pulsating magic was deafening, but not as loud as Twilight’s screaming voice.

“Celestia!”

For a moment, the pulsating magic wavered.

Then, it resumed with added intensity.

“Celestia, you can’t keep trying! Won’t you at least listen to me?!”

Once more, the same wavering in the pulses.

Celestia was thinking. Rationalizing. Collating. Resisting.

Once more, the pulsating magic intensified.

“We all miss you, Celestia!” Twilight screamed. “I miss you, Luna misses you, Cadance misses you!”

When Celestia spoke, it was without volume.

“I can’t give up, Twilight Sparkle. I can’t.”

Twilight grimaced a little as Celestia’s voice cut into her mind—not that it was painful, simply a strange and disorienting sensation, like the two were temporarily sharing a mind. When Twilight replied, she did so aloud, and still at a scream.

“It’s time to! It’s time to let go!”

“I can keep it together! Just a little more time…”

“You’re keeping together a barren rock, Celestia.” Twilight’s head sunk. She didn’t have the energy to scream anymore, but somehow she knew Celestia would hear her. “There’s nothing to keep together anymore.”

“Don’t say that! There’s always a way! We’ve always found a way!”

“Yes.” Twilight nodded. “And we did it together! Luna and Cadance are already gone. I… have to follow. I want to follow. But I can’t leave you here, holding together some lonely rock in space for the rest of your damn life!”

“Then stay! Help me! You’re right, we can keep Equus alive together! The way we always have!”

“Celestia… I know it’s hard. I know because you said the same to me when…”

Twilight trailed off. Five faces. Five tombstones.

Anger, loneliness, and then peace.

“...but you need to let go! Stop fighting!”

Silence. Celestia’s magic continued to pulse, the ocean of white and yellow in the brightest shades forcing Twilight to squint. There wasn’t a pony before her, simply a stubborn miasma of incandescent energy.

“Celestia…” Twilight choked. “You know why I’m here. You know, because I already told you last time. I’m… I’m sorry— ”

“No! Don’t be! Don’t finish that! Please, Twilight, help me! We can do this together, I know we can… just a little more…”

“Goodbye, Celestia,” Twilight said. Firmly, and softly. A whisper into a void of soundlessness that she knew Celestia could hear anyways. She flapped her wings, once, twice, three times.

She passed over Canterlot, or, what was left of Canterlot. Centuries had been cruel to the city, and not even Celestia’s stubborn magic could change that. The castle and the mountain around it had ripped apart and been stitched together countless times, so that almost every little brick or rock was in a slightly incorrect place.

Before long, Equus showed its ragged curvature, missing too many pieces in too many places, like a half-completed jigsaw puzzle. Some had already floated off into the void of twinkling stars, the planet's gravitational pull no longer strong enough to keep them all together. Luna's moon existed only in name—it was a pathetic bit of grey against an overarching ocean of black.

Twilight continued to flap her wings, forcing herself not to look back, willing her eyes forwards with her own chanting voice and rapid breath. Behind her lay the past that she had long since let go, and Luna and Cadance had before her. Now, only Celestia was locked in her endless struggle against the inevitable, and it seemed as though not even the promise of loneliness would change that.

Instantly, Twilight scolded herself for letting her mind wander to Celestia.

Any thought of not looking back evaporated in a moment, and she afforded herself a backwards glance. When she did, she found herself surprised by how much distance she had already placed between her and the pale blue little tennis ball.

She was glad she looked back, however, because the sight of Equus collapsing into itself truly was a great sight. She blinked in bewilderment, wondering if her eyes were deceiving her, if she was experiencing some wishful, delusional hallucination.

When a flare of yellow magic erupted next to her, she knew she wasn’t. For several moments, Twilight was speechless even if she desperately wished to speak, but as usual Celestia was quicker on the draw.

“I hate it when you do that,” the white alicorn said simply. For the first time in so long, her expression was not a pain-filled and determined snarl. “Fine. You win, Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight did not speak. Together in the dark abyss of space, the two alicorns embraced. Celestia leaned into Twilight's warmth and accepted the wide lavender wings enveloping her.

They did not speak further, and stood still as they watched the final dance of rock and light. The end of Home.

When it was over, Celestia was once again the first voice in the darkness.

“Well?” she asked, as if proposing they go off for ice cream. “Onwards?”

Twilight traced Celestia's raised hoof, motioning forwards in a direction opposite the lonely, fading Sun. She nodded, and together they flew onwards into the darkness.

Author's Note

Originally written in an hour on the simple prompt of "Resist." Naturally, I took the prompt and ended the world with it. Typical.

Probably an idea executed much better by other people.