It was the ugliest night she had ever seen.
Princess Celestia looked up at the moon, sighing deeply. She had never been able to draw out the beauty of the night like her sister could, and it only got uglier over time. Most days left Celestia exhausted and unable to muster up the strength to carefully place the moon in the sky. Each time she placed it wrong, even slightly, the night lost more of its previous splendor. By now, the once deep blue hues of the night sky were muted and grey, and the stars fewer and dimmer.
A cool breeze washed over her, carrying the faint, sweet smell of the flowers filling the garden of Canterlot castle. At least that felt right this time. It had been too long since Equestria last had a proper dusk to gradually bring forth the night—and the coolness that came with it. This night, Celestia put in a strained effort to recreate one of Luna’s nights, though she felt like a child playing dress-up. The moon was still… off. Perhaps a little bit higher, a nudge to the right? Would that make it better? She ignited her horn, but then stopped, realizing she didn’t have the magic to spare to adjust the moon’s position again. She doubted it would make a difference anyway.
“Good night, dear Luna.” Celestia sighed again.
She retreated into Canterlot castle, marble steps leading her into one of the long corridors lit up by resplendent chandeliers. Lightstones—orbs infused with an illumination spell—were set inside them, their soothing light reflecting off the white stone. They couldn't compare to the brilliant light of Luna's moon. It had almost been a thousand years, but Celestia still remembered how beautiful the last night her sister brought forth was.
It was the night Luna turned into Nightmare Moon. And in just a few days, she would return.
On the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars will aid in her escape and she will bring about everlasting night. Those were the words of the prophecy Celestia had written, the truth that the Sun showed her. She should be happy about her sister's return, but, knowing that Nightmare Moon would threaten Equestria filled her with dread; she wasn't strong enough to fight her sister.
Celestia's only hope was Twilight Sparkle—a young unicorn student of hers. The Sun had spoken of her. The new Element of Magic.
The Elements of Harmony were powerful relics, the same ones Celestia used to banish Nightmare Moon before. She remembered the sensation. An incredible power that warmed her from within and forced her to act. It numbed her emotions and moved her body against her will, as if she were guided by a greater purpose. After that, the Elements turned to stone, and she was thankful she was never able to use them again.
Now, however, she had placed that burden on an unsuspecting young pony. That pony—and the other Bearers of Harmony—would be subjected to the Elements as well. She would let one of her own subjects go through something like that because she wasn't strong enough to protect them herself.
She was a bad ruler.
Celestia passed the Starswirl the Bearded wing of the library. A faint smile tugged at her lips as she recalled the time she spent learning from him. She never imagined a pony with such a weird hat would have turned out to be a talented spellcaster, or to be the one that showed her to tap into the power of the Sun. What would he say if he saw her now? Scold her about worrying too much about things that can be changed, and focus on things she can do, probably. That, or distract her with another one of his weird adventures.
What she needed was somepony to ease her worries. When she took the throne, she was confident that she would be a great Princess for Equestria. She protected her ponies, governed them, and successfully ruled a blossoming kingdom where ponies lived in peace. Now, she wasn't sure if any of that mattered. If her peace was to be so easily taken away, was she ever good ruler at all?
Celestia turned her head to gaze out of the window, catching a brief glimpse of her reflection.
She stopped, struck with a realization. A memory of a place she once visited, and a hope of the answers it might have for her.
Starswirl’s library was housed inside Alicorn Spire, the mountain Canterlot was built upon. The caverns were carved out to make Starswirl’s home. Over time it was filled with trinkets and souvenirs from the worlds Celestia and he visited. After Celestia was forced to abdicate the throne after Nightmare Moon's banishment, she moved everything precious of him inside, and sealed it off so none could enter.
The deepest part of the caverns housed Starswirl’s ‘athenaeum’—he always did like the fancy words. So much knowledge was hidden away in this library. In the wrong hooves it could cause ruin to Equestria. Celestia and Starswirl had managed to find a hydra to guard the place, but as the library was neglected, so was the creature itself.
Its skeletal remains still lay in the waters.
Celestia’s ears drooped as she crossed the bridge over the river. What had been the point? Nothing ever came close to the library. The hydra was taken from its home and put here to protect a place that didn’t need protection. With heavy hooves, she continued onward and moved beyond the golden doors in the back wall.
Starswirl’s library was still the same as it was shortly after he died, though, now there was the added smell of age from the old oaken bookcases, and dusty tomes. She moved around carefully, chips of rock that had fallen from the weathered ceiling crunching beneath her hooves. For however fondly Celestia treasured the memories, she hadn’t the heart to step hoof in here again. Partially because it pained her to see this place without Starswirl. Partially because she wasn’t sure if she could resist the temptation of the mirror again.
It stood near the left-side wall of his library—next to his round table Starswirl usually drank tea at—covered in a layer of dust, hiding the sparkling gemstones set in the round frame.
Celestia wiped part of the mirror clean with her hoof, recalling the times it had taken her and Starswirl to a variety of worlds. Most were different from Equestria in every way, others… scarily similar, but each one of them wondrous and exciting. One of these worlds held an Equestria much like her own, but where everything was different at the same time.
It was an Equestria ruled by King Sombra, and it was Celestia’s own mirror image who terrorized him.
She unfurled the scroll she had taken from the memento box in her chambers, faced the mirror and flared her horn. Magic traced the words and symbols on the page, then pulsed. Celestia drew the magic towards her horn, then fired a beam at the mirror.
The mirror activated, emitting a soft blue glow. Celestia's reflection was replaced with a vortex of smoke, dancing within its face.
Hesitantly, Celestia moved forward, wondering what could have changed on the other side of the portal. Maybe the night over there is still beautiful she thought hopefully as she stepped through the mirror.
Celestia frowned, placing a hoof over her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun. It was a sad sight, seeing what little fertile land was left in the otherwise grey and dry expanse. She could make out a few forms that were tending to the fields. Mostly pegasi, trying to wring out whatever water was left in the cloud blankets to prevent the crops from succumbing to the heat. There wasn’t much. The shade would have to suffice.
Some aides arrived to bring Celestia—and her host—refreshments, which they placed on the table as they worked on setting up a parasol. Once done, they retreated after giving a simple, polite bow, though Celestia noticed the unease on their faces. Hard not to.
“Please forgive them,” King Sombra said, “serving her mirror image is… difficult for them.”
“I can imagine, though, I expected to be met with more hostility. Your ponies have been quite accommodating,” Celestia said, turning her attention to the stallion beside her. Even after all these centuries, he didn’t look a year older than he had back then. Stripes of blue provided a regal accent to his otherwise black mane and his frame was still as fit and well-built as she remembered.
His clothing had changed, however. Underneath his blue, armored hoofguards and collar, he wore a military suit—one that would be worn by a general—complemented with an intricate, but light, cape. He wore white. A colour that demanded the wearer to be noticed.
There was something else. Something was different in his eyes. The green eyes that once shone with kindness and hope, looked dreary and dimmed instead.
Just like the night back home.
“Well,” Sombra said, “I hope this is more accommodating than spears pointed in your direction. Here.” He grabbed hold of the glass pitcher on the table with his magic and poured some of its contents in Celestia’s cup. “It may not be what you’re used to—some even called it heresy at first—but, tea has always been the drink of choice for esteemed guests.”
Celestia glared at the cup. Tea. She would probably enjoy it if the heat wasn’t so suffocating. Despite the formality of the drink, why would—
There were ice cubes in her cup. She cocked an eyebrow and looked at Sombra, who—with a wave of his hoof—urged her to try what seemed like worst crime done to tea in known history. Then again, she was skeptical when Sombra introduced her to coffee as well.
She levitated the cup to her lips and took a careful sip. It was cold, as expected, but surprisingly refreshing with a sweetness to it that she imagined she could grow fond of.
Satisfied, Celestia turned towards Sombra. “The uniform looks good on you,” she said. A subtle bit of flattery—implying the wearer improves their wear—but an honest one nonetheless.
Sombra chuckled. “Thank you, though I wish I didn’t have to wear it. It reminds me that we’re at war. Times in which my ponies need not just a king, but a leader they can depend on.”
Celestia took another sip of her tea, which earned her a smile from her beloved, though, it quickly faltered.
“We’ve had our hardships,” Sombra continued, after drinking some of his own icy tea. “Living under the Tyrannous Sun has been challenging, but we’ve managed.”
Celestia frowned. “The Tyrannous Sun? Is that what they’re calling her?”
“Her and the sun,” Sombra said. “Their names have become synonymous now. The Sun bends to her will, after all. They’ve been oppressing us. Ponies from all over the country have been driven away from their homes and are coming here to seek refuge. I’m doing what I can to provide for them, but it’s not enough.”
Celestia’s head dropped. She just intruded herself into another pony’s life, hoping he’d provide the answers to her own problems. Not even thinking about the problems he may be facing himself.
Had she done the same to Luna? Did she cause her sister to grow so distant? Wasn’t there something she could have done differently?
Hoofsteps appeared from behind. Celestia turned to see a cream-colored earth pony mare bowing before Sombra, eyes kept to the ground.
“Your Majesty,” the mare said, “we’re almost finished preparing for the ceremony. Your presence will be required soon.”
“Ah, so soon already,” Sombra said, turning to Celestia. “My apologies, Celestia. Today’s ceremony is important to my ponies, so I must see to some things. I’ll send one of my best scholars to join you shortly. All of this was made possible thanks to her.”
Celestia simply nodded, swallowing words now left unsaid. Sombra had his own problems to attend to. Adding her own on top of that seemed too much.
As Sombra left the balcony, Celestia looked back toward the land, empty and sundered by war. The thought of war still chilled Celestia. Ponies fighting and killing each other was wrong. She imagined her own Equestria would look like this, had she never returned to rule. Dethroned or not, she shouldn’t have left Canterlot. Expecting the Earth Pony, Unicorn, and Pegasi tribes to rule jointly when they only just started to forget about their grievances with one another was a foal’s dream.
“Excuse me, Princess?” a voice called, snapping Celestia out of her memories.
Celestia turned to meet the voice, a young mare with an azure blue coat and a smooth, snow-white mane. It flowed to the right side of her head, cascading like a waterfall, and ended in a small curl at the tip.
She wore a violet cloak embroidered with various stars. Stars were a common choice of pattern among scholars. They represent the vastness of the sky, and the knowledge, yet unknown, they must hold. Starswirl had stars on his cloak and hat, too. Though he had also adorned them with bells. Not for any scholarly reason; he just liked how they jingled.
He would have disapproved of Celestia being here.
You know what kind of consequences there are to visiting this world too often, Starswirl had said. We can’t risk it. You’re putting everypony in danger. What could possibly be worth it!
An answer. A solution. Anything. She would lose her Equestria at the hooves of Nightmare Moon. If her ponies couldn’t even stop bickering with each other as soon as they were put in the same room, how could she expect them to help? Sombra was the only pony she trusted enough. He had to have an answer.
“Princess,” the mare said with a hoof over her chest, “I am Trixie Lulamoon, scholar of magic. King Sombra asked me to guide you. If you’d please come with me.”
Celestia nodded, and exited the balcony, passing a pair of guards—firm expressions on their faces. Both wore the same set of black armor; a few large plates of metal that wrapped around their bodies, and hoofguards that folded over some interlocking plates to protect their legs. Much heavier armor than those worn by Celestia’s own guards.
The corridors were built out of raw, dark stone, held together with a hardened paste, that were warm to the touch. Even in the shadows, the sun’s heat permeated through.
As they walked, Celestia idly regarded Trixie. So young. Just like many of Celestia’s own students that had only just found their purpose in life. An accomplished scholar at that age? Celestia couldn’t imagine how much the war influenced that.
“If I’m not mistaken,” Celestia said, “you’re quite young for a scholar, are you not?”
“Younger than most,” Trixie answered. “I only earned my cutie mark six harvests ago.”
Harvests? Celestia thought. Is that how they measure time? “Sombra speaks highly of you. I doubt that’s without reason,” she said.
Trixie’s ears fell. “I’ve studied a lot, but I’ve been lucky. There aren’t many unicorns gifted in magic like I am, and most are trained to fight the war. I was tutored by Sombra himself, so becoming a scholar and, by extension, an advisor was just a matter of time, not merit.”
“And you do not believe you’ve proven your merit?”
“My teachers say I’m some sort of prodigy because of my magic. Yet, I’m told to stay in the castle and do research. Wouldn’t I be more useful somewhere else? I don’t feel like I’ve actually done anything worthwhile here.”
Doubt. Celestia has seen it all too often in students. Some of life's challenges simply can’t be taught in school. But, was it too much to ask of them to have some confidence in themselves?
Celestia huffed, returning to her conversation with Trixie “And what about the ceremony? I believe you played your part in that, didn’t you?”
“I wish I didn’t.”
“Oh? Why is that?” Celestia asked.
Trixie shrank down even further, seemingly nervous, her eyes darting between Celestia and the floor. “I… will need to show you something.”
Turning several corners in the undecorated corridors, Trixie led Celestia to a grand hallway, large enough for a fully mature dragon to pass through. A red carpet spanned the length of it, with decorative vases on top of small, square pillars built into the walls flanking on both sides. Stained glass windows were set in the wall that was facing the sun, shafts of colored light that originated from them sparkling in the air.
Celestia had a hallway just like this. One where her greatest deeds were set in glass. She was the only one that made a difference.
“This is our Hall of Achievements,” Trixie said. “Sombra told me it was inspired by your custom. We remember every battle here, as well as the courage and heroism of those who fought them.” She stopped and looked towards a curtain that covered one of the windows’ spots in the wall. Her horn glowed and a pink aura enveloped the curtain and pulled it away, revealing the window behind. “This one is supposed to be revealed tomorrow.”
The light shone brilliantly through the colored glass, more so than any of the other windows. A black unicorn—Sombra—raised himself to the sky. A straight line, bright orange, connected him from his horn to the moon above him. And from the moon, a figure bursted out.
“This is the moon raising ceremony today. Sombra wants to raise the moon by himself and free Luna in doing so.”
Celestia grimaced.
Trixie pulled out a notebook from under her cloak. “I found Luna’s journal when Sombra asked me to search for ways to raise the moon. I thought if somepony would know about it, it would be Luna. She described her connection to the moon, and so I wrote a spell based on that to replicate that connection.”
“And that’s the spell Sombra intends to use to raise the moon?” Celestia asked.
“Yes.”
What was he thinking? Connecting to the Sun or Moon was alicorn magic and Sombra was still a unicorn—despite his alicorn heritage. He must have realized that it was beyond his ability. The amount of magic required would drain him completely.
“He can’t do it,” Celestia said somberly. “Only Luna could.”
“Yet, he insists on going through with it!” Trixie stomped a hoof, though it was cushioned by the carpet. “He’s always been like this. Doing everything by himself. Everypony is afraid he’ll burn himself out. Like he doesn’t realise it’s him we need the most.
“I don’t know what else we can do. Sit and wait until all of Equestria is dried out? If we free Luna, then, maybe, we can start fighting back. But even if Sombra does succeed, he’ll lose his magic that protects us.”
Trixie was pleading for help. Celestia couldn’t go back to correct her own mistakes in the past, but, at least she could prevent Sombra from making one.
“He doesn’t have to be alone in this,” Celestia said. “There is a way that unicorns can work together to raise the moon.”
“What? No, that’s not possible. It would cause interference with the spell.”
Celestia shook her head. “If you were to establish a connection, yes, the attunement would fail. But there is more than one way to move the moon. Like the unicorns of old have done in my world. They divided the task between each other: one to move, one to guide, and one to keep the Mover grounded.”
“So we could do it?" Trixie said, her eyes widening. "Raise the moon? He doesn’t have to do it alone?”
“Yes, but I think there is somepony you should talk to first,” Celestia said. “Let’s find him.”
Trixie hesitated, but then nodded. “Okay, follow me.”
Celestia followed Trixie as she took her through the Hall and up several staircases in a trot. The sun burnt harshly through the open windows; even the breeze felt hot on Celestia’s skin. She grew uncomfortable in the enclosed spaces. The sun shouldn’t be so suffocating, as if the heat tightened a noose around her neck.
They turned a corner and continued up a flight of stairs towards the front of the castle. At the top, they entered a circular room, comprised of clear windows with fitted in floral framework. The two opposite of the stairs were doors, connecting to the outside.
Sombra stood in the center, crown now planted on his head. “Celestia, Trixie. What’s the matter?”
“I believe that your student would like a word with her mentor.” Celestia glanced at Trixie. The mare had a determined look in her eyes, but she was trembling. That was a good thing. She did not take this lightly.
Trixie swallowed, stepping forward. “You’ve been doing things on your own long enough, Sombra. Doing this is too much. You need to stop.”
Celestia retreated slightly, observing the exchange with curiosity.
“I can’t,” Sombra said. “I am the king, Trixie. Ponies look towards me to protect them. My responsibility is to guarantee their safety. One that isn’t threatened by the Sun.”
“Then you have to let us help you,” Trixie said. “The princess knows of another spell we can use to help you raise the moon.”
Sombra frowned, holding up a scroll. “You’ve noted how dangerous it is with the amount of magic it requires. I can’t let anypony put themselves at risk.”
“Ponies are becoming complacent, Sombra,” Trixie said. “You’ve always been protecting us from the outside, taking care of our every need however you can, but the ponies in the castle think you’ve given up. We’ve managed living underneath the Tyrannous Sun, so why would we risk what we have?”
“Because living like this is wrong!" Sombra snapped. “Equestria was beautiful, once. There were times when the Sun didn’t starve us. Can’t they see I’m trying to bring that back?”
Trixie’s expression turned somber. “We’ve never known Equestria any differently from this.”
“Then I’ll have to do everything to show you what it could be like.”
“Let us help, then! We can’t lose you—which is what will happen if you are going to do this by yourself. Without you, we’ll have nopony to look towards. It’ll be chaos when we need somepony to lead us more than ever. We’re not foals, Sombra, there are still ponies that want to make things better, just like you. Why did you stop letting us do our part?”
Because I lost faith. Celestia thought. Faith in all of those around me.
“I wanted to protect my ponies.” Sombra slumped down and hung his head. “Be a king they could trust to protect them.”
Trixie approached him and placed a hoof on his shoulder. “I believe you are; you’ve always cared for us. But, the weight of the world shouldn't be carried by just one pony.”
Sombra sighed, raising himself from the floor. “Right you are,” he said, then turned to Celestia. “As you can see, my student is quite insistent on using your spell. Could I ask for your help?”
Celestia smiled, then nodded “Of course."
Celestia walked down the stone steps, Sombra leading to her left. Trixie—despite Sombra’s objections—insisted he would accompany Celestia back to the portal while she set about finding the unicorns they needed for the ceremony.
Celestia found herself lost in thought. Was she a good ruler? She had taken every responsibility: settling disputes, dealing with foreign dignitaries, making laws, protecting her subjects, everything she thought a ruler should do.
But perhaps that was wrong; if she took care of all her ponies, could they ever take care of themselves if they needed to? Hasn’t she been doing the same thing as Sombra? Fostering a stagnant world where ponies had nothing to complain about and were complacent in their way of living? Was that the kind of the world that could go on without her?
“You seem worried,” Sombra said, snapping Celestia out of her thoughts.
Celestia's ears flicked upright, then swiveled back as she sighed. “Your student has given me some things to think about as well.”
“Ah. She always did put her best effort in what she does. I suppose that also applies to speaking her mind. Even at our age, we can be surprised by the young.”
Celestia hid a laugh behind a hoof. “Let that be a lesson for us to never underestimate youth.”
Sombra chuckled. “Indeed, but can an old friend impart some wisdom, too?”
Celestia raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
“Don’t regret your decisions. I want you to believe that, whatever you’ve done, you’ve made the right choices, and that you’ve done the best anypony could have done in your situation. I’ve underestimated the determination of my ponies, and lost sight of them in my desire to protect them by myself, but I don’t regret caring for them.”
Celestia mulled over those words. Whatever else, Equestria was prosperous. Her ponies were safe and free. Even if she did make mistakes along the way, those facts remained true. Even if she wasn't strong enough to protect them, the least she could do is prepare them as best she could. Nightmare Moon was still coming.
“Okay.” Celestia smiled. “I will.”
Sombra returned her smile. “Well, here we are,” he said, stopping in front of the base of a broken statue, the portal back to Celestia’s world swirling inside. “No doubt you have your own Equestria to get back to.”
“I do, but I’m happy I came here,” Celestia answered.
“So am I. Thank you.”
“Always.”
Celestia looked back at Sombra once more as she stepped through the portal. Just like his, her—the Radiant Sun's—subjects weren’t foals either. She would have to stop treating them like that if she was to prepare them for the future.
