To my most faithful student, Twilight Sparkle,
Recent events have led me to realize the necessity of this letter. With my near defeat by Queen Chrysalis, it is all too clear that the day I either step down or am removed as Princess of Equestria could come at any moment. There is far too much knowledge possessed by only my sister and myself. Knowledge that should not be lost with our passing. Knowledge the next ruler of Equestria should have.
And so, Twilight Sparkle, I write this letter—to be sent to you upon my removal as Princess of Equestria—along with a collection of creative memoirs so that you may know the truth. While I strongly urge you to share this information with what will then be your own subjects, I will trust your judgment as you have so often trusted mine.
These memoirs will tell you the story of Equestria before even Luna and I were born—history taught to us by our father and tutors. History long since removed from any but the oldest tomes—most of which would turn to dust if disturbed. No matter how unintentionally, many important things have been inexcusably lost through the march of time. Know that it was not my will to restrict this history, but merely a natural result of the ponies of Equestria's continued lack of interest. Though I admit I am guilty of having left the situation alone.
But with your and your friends' inheritance of the Elements of Harmony, both my sister and I have decided that we must prepare for any eventuality. The defeat of Nightmare Moon, the return of Discord, and the Changeling attack—these are clear signs to us that a change is coming, whether by our choice or not. So, though I have been so proud to be your teacher and friend, I must confess that I am guilty of ulterior motives.
You, Twilight Sparkle, and your friends, are Equestria's future. Of this I have no doubt. And so my tutelage of you has been beyond mere magical education—thus your friendship reports. So consider this another lesson; your final lesson. The true history of Luna, Discord, and myself. The truth of one of the most important turning points in all of Equestrian history.
You have been as a daughter to me, Twilight Sparkle. You returned my dear sister to her normal self. You have shown exquisite loyalty, dedication, and focus in your studies and beyond. You have saved this land—in which so many live and that I so dearly love—more times than should ever be expected of anypony. Without hesitation or complaint. For that and so much more, you have my unending respect and, if I may, love from the bottom of my heart.
It is a heavy burden I've always placed on you, and I am so sorry. Yet so very thankful.
For you are my savior, Twilight Sparkle.
You are my Princess.
Your friend, forever and beyond,
Celestia
~-----~
The wind howled and the rain came down in a torrent. It was one of the worst storms Equestria had ever seen over the entire course of its history. The pegasi were going to be hearing from the nobles come the morning, quite emphatically at that. And the nobles would hear from the pegasi, only more so. A storm like this could only be possible with magical influence.
Yet still, the truth would never be known—he regretted that heavily, though it was lessened greatly by his irritation at the need for the storm in the first place.
What was he doing, suffering this foolish request? Was he really upsetting the balance so desperately sought because of a bloody prophecy?
“Must be getting foolish myself in my old age,” whispered the dark stallion to himself as he surveyed the scene in front of him between lightning strikes.
The capital city was dark, the streetlights having long since been blown out. Every time a bolt fell, the lines of buildings flashed into sight looking somewhat like the bleached bones of an old skeleton. The royal palace—in its central location on the other side of the city—played its part perfectly as the skull. A pair of magical torches still glowed, appearing as ethereal eyes glaring his direction.
How long had he stood here, soaked to the marrow? He wasn't afraid of the visage; in fact, he found it somewhat amusing that the so called capital of Harmony could appear so dreary and dead-like. How many of its inhabitants would find this sight absolutely appalling? Something to shun and abandon?
Chuckling to himself, he shook off the rain in a futile effort and began to descend the hilltop towards the city in which he was never welcome. The city so many dreamed of. The capital of this glorious land everypony but he called home.
The royal capital city of Equestria—Ravaalon.
Walking down the main thoroughfare, he noticed the extensive storm preparations that the city had undergone. Well, at least the fool had taken his warning on the consequences. That was somewhat reassuring.
The clip clop of his hooves upon the cobbles was easily drowned out by the sound of wind and rain; combined with everypony tightly huddled indoors no one would see him come. Or go, if he could help it. How he detested this place.
He slowed down to more carefully study the city surrounding him. It hadn't changed much in the hundred or so years he'd been away, but that was hardly surprising. Nothing but white brick and symmetrical design everywhere. Neat, clean, organized—just as Harmony liked it. Just as he found so boring as to border on a cruel sort of torture.
He stomped at the ground, sending up a large splash of rainwater, and began to gallop through the streets. The sooner he was done with this ridiculous errand, the sooner he could leave. All this harmony and balance was such an eyesore.
Why hadn't he just said no? Such a simple word. He'd done it before.
Why couldn't he just let one little foal die?
~-----~
Pacing back and forth, Lucent Concord was more nervous—no—more terrified than he had ever been in his entire life. And he had lived a very, very long time.
“He should be here...Blast that arrogant snake!” he mumbled again and again and again.
The two guards standing against the door near the nervous stallion didn't move a muscle but their eyes never left him. Only the most trained eye could see the worry in the slightly offset way they held their stance; in the less than confident manner they held their pikes.
Back and forth, right and left he paced the six steps from one side of the corridor to the other. And had been pacing for hours now. The once gorgeously kept golden mane was a tangled mess and matted with sweat. His copper eyes were twitchy and clearly hazed over from sleep deprivation. It was made all the worse by the occasional pause.
Back and forth, back and forth he'd pace when all of a sudden he'd just stop. The guards nearly jumped every time he did it—if there was a pattern or reasoning behind the pauses, they couldn't detect it. But still, he'd stop and slowly stare at the door between them. For a few seconds he'd just stare, clearly seeing something besides just a simple pair of oaken doors and royal guards. Then he'd slowly turn his eyes away from the door to down the corridor. After a moment, it would start all over again.
For hours the two guards had watched their king grow steadily more nervous and worried. They had never seen him so disheveled. But then, he had good reason.
The king was awaiting word on whether his daughter would die this night, the same night she was born. The much celebrated and awaited event was turning out to be a disaster in disguise.
It wasn't a complete tragedy, thankfully enough. Word had spread that the first child born was as healthy as any mare or stallion could hope for in a foal. Which was what made the small and sickly second foal such a greater shame. It was all but guaranteed that tomorrow would, weather permitting, bring forth the grimmest celebration Ravaalon had ever known.
Stilling the sorrow and pity they felt, the guards stood tall and continued to hope. This was Ravaalon—center of Harmony. The most cultured and advanced pony city in all of Equestria. If anywhere could bring forth a miracle than it surely must be here.
And yet...
Lucent Concord continued to pace, his nerves growing ever more frayed, his appearance straying ever farther from the picture perfect King Harmony so beloved by his people.
Suddenly, the king stopped again but he broke the cycle by looking immediately down the corridor. For a moment there was nothing but then a commotion caught the guards' ears. They had grown so used to merely standing there in silence that they didn't react at once. They both gave a small shake of their head and stepped forward, pikes at the ready.
The senior guard on the right said, “Your Majesty! Please, stand behind us!”
“What?” Lucent responded weakly and slowly, turning towards the guard's stern command.
“This time of night, that sort of noise must mean trouble! Sire, please!”
The two guards put the king behind them and crossed pikes. They were ready for anything to burst in from the doors at the end of the hall. While the capital was a beacon of civilization for miles provided you went north or west, the southern and eastern borders were still mostly untamed forest. It was very rare, but not completely unheard of for one of the many strange and dangerous beasts that lived there to wander into town.
“But how the hay did it get into the castle?” asked the younger guard.
“I'm not sure, but it's not getting any further,” the older responded calmly, having once fended off a manticore in his youth. Nothing would catch him unawares.
The odd thing, he would relate to his fellow soldiers in the pub later, is that that's the point of being caught unaware—it only happened because you absolutely couldn't expect it.
Because, honestly, how could he expect a pony-sized golden armadillo to burst through the door and fall to the ground?
While both guards stood dumbfounded, the king's eyes cleared and his posture straightened almost immediately as he exclaimed, “Ah! He's here! At last!”
The senior guard recovered first and blurted, “What?! That's what you were waiting on? A bloody huge armadillo?”
“No,” the king said, laughing. “That's just him playing one of his tricks. Clearly, he's rather upset.”
“Upset? Upset?!” came a booming voice from beyond the armadillo, around which walked a very large but lean stallion. “Upset is when you bang your hoof against a rock. Upset is when you find the last slice of alfalfa cake has molded. Upset is when you lose your place in the book you're reading. I am furious, livid, incensed!”
“You are soaked. And an absolute miracle in this dark moment,” said the king lightly, walking slowly down the hall. “It's been a long time, old friend. A long, long time.”
“Hmph!” the dark stallion sniffed. “With welcomes like this impudent fool's,” he gestured with a hoof to the armadillo behind him, “it's of no wonder a hundred years pass between my...visits. I have half a mind—“
Lucent Concord interrupted his friend's ranting with a mighty hug as he said through tearful eyes, “There are not enough words to express my gratitude, Chance. Thank you. From the very bottommost depths of my heart—thank you.”
The irritated stallion paused, shocked. Begrudgingly, he felt his anger cool—whether this was from the seriousness of his friend's words or the natural abilities of being so close to Harmony while under strict control of his own power, he couldn't say.
After a moment, he returned the hug briefly and much more calmly said, “Yes, well...be on with it, then. Let me make one thing crystal clear: I'm not even absolutely sure I will help you. Understand?”
“Perfectly,” the king responded warmly. “To the inner chamber then?”
Chance nodded his head curtly and began to walk on down the corridor. As he passed the two still quite dumbstruck guards, he turned and said, not entirely coldly, “I'm sorry about your guard. ...I may have let my irritation get the best of me and he just happened to be in my way. I'd turn him back, but I should conserve my power—if I am to help you, the less I mess about the better. Plus, you were always better at that sort of thing.”
“Of course. No harm done,” the king said as he turned to the giant, golden armadillo. “I'm surprised, actually. An armadillo makes more sense than you usually aim for; his armor is...well, his armor.”
“Your influence, clearly. Being so close like this.” He paused then idly said, “I meant to turn him into an ant.”
There was a golden flash of light, originating from the king's horn, and where once was a very large, gold coloured armadillo now sprawled a very confused pony wearing golden armor. The guard's eyes darted to and fro a bit until they landed on Chance standing further down the hall. His panicked attempt to rise led to him almost falling face first on the floor but the king caught him in his magic and lifted the colt to his hooves.
“Easy there, soldier. You've been through quite an ordeal, transformed like that. Give your body a moment to reacquaint itself with being equine.”
“B-b-but sir...T-that stallion i-is—“ the young guard began, but the king interrupted with, “Now now, I know he seems scary and his reaction was a bit, ah, harsh, but Fair Chance here isn't so bad when you get to know him, like I have.”
The elder guard spoke up in surprise, “Fair Chance, sir? The Fair Chance? As in your opposite, the Lord Chaos Fair Chance, sir?”
“Lord Chaos will do, captain,” said the dark stallion sternly, his stance somewhat embarrassed to the king's trained eye.
“Yes, m'lord. Sorry m'lord,” the guard said, pulling himself and the younger guard beside him into a kneel.
Chance rolled his eyes and Lucent chuckled. He had missed this greatly, seeing his friend so unnerved amongst other ponies. It was heartwarming to see the usually so cold and taciturn stallion react so...normally.
He looked over his oldest friend again—had it really been a hundred years?—and saw he had changed little, if at all. His mane was still the darkest of blacks with no fade or gray apparent and, though still somewhat plastered to his shamrock coat due to the rain, clearly Chance favored wearing it in as wild and expansive a style as ever. At least it was clean. Lucent still remembered one of the earliest decades where Chance had decided not taking a bath was an acceptably Chaotic activity.
Had they ever really been that young? That foolish? The look in Chance's wine coloured eyes said no; they spoke more of the pain of isolation and the tired wisdom of the far too old. They reminded him just as pointedly as any time he peered into the mirror—they may still look like powerful stallions in their prime, but mentally and emotionally they were so amazingly, cursedly old.
But soon it would all be over. Soon they would both be able to rest. Soon.
“Well?” Chance called, irritation clear in his voice. “You asked me here as swiftly as I was able. Are we to stand in this hallway all night now?”
Shaking away his internal reverie, Lucent recalled the seriousness of this night.
“Of course not, let's go,” he replied, walking on down the corridor. “Guards, ensure we are not disturbed...and until the morn—no matter what you may hear beyond those doors—remain at your posts. No matter what. Understand?”
All three guards crisply saluted with a, “Yes, sire!”, returning to their posts after the two most powerful stallions in Equestria entered the inner room together.
Chance magically slammed his goblet down, denting the expertly crafted silver and spilling the admittedly excellent strawberry wine. An hour they had argued back and forth. And for the last hour he had steadily grown more and more frustrated with Lucent's selfish request and lackluster explanations.
“Enough! Badger me no more with your pathetic personal requests!”
“But Chance—“
“But nothing, old friend,” he said with as much venom as he could. “Your family means nothing to me! By the sun and the moon, nopony means anything to me! And I to nopony!”
He saw his friend's deep cerulean eyes—such a contrast to his nearly white, pale lavender coat—wince with the nonspecific accusation. This topic had rarely been brought up over the centuries they had known one another. For reasons he couldn't fathom it seemed to pain Lucent. It only caused rage within his own heart.
“But the prophecy, Chance!”
“A prophecy made by a pony five hundred years dead. A prophecy so vague as to be near incomprehensible! One they claimed we ourselves fulfilled!”
“You believed that as much as I did,” Lucent's words were filled with heat, his patience wearing thin. “And I always knew we wouldn't be the end of it. It was too easy then and it would be too easy now!”
“And what of that do you find so undesirable?! It's always been so easy for you!”
“So. That's the truth of it.”
Chance looked away from his friend's piercing gaze and said nothing.
Lucent filled the silence, “I never asked you to leave. You took that on yourself. I sent you plenty of letters and even invitations in the earliest decades before you let me know, in no uncertain terms, that that was a pointless endeavor.”
Fair Chance turned and walked away from the table, heading towards the nearest covered window. He stood for a few minutes, silently steaming.
Lucent calmed himself and spoke quietly, “We could rest, Chance. Truly find our own peace! And you could come back. Be the brother I consider you regardless of blood, be a part of my family like you belong! Maybe even start a family of your own, Chance. You wouldn't have to sacrifice anymore.”
Chance felt something inside him break, something he had held taut for time beyond his recall.
“It's so easy for you to say that—you've always had everything, Lucent. You never had to spend a single night alone, let alone hundreds of years of them. There was always more for you to gain: the love of your people, a wonderful wife, and now children. Even before we...became what we are, you were the perfect son, perfect student, perfect hero. Everypony always preferred me in the shadow; I was just an inconvenient and necessary evil. Happiness in Harmony...could never be Chaos' way.”
The king crossed the room and placed a hoof upon Chance's shoulder. Smiling, he spoke quietly, “Do you remember our old teacher, Chance?”
A hint of a smile touched the stallion's muzzle, “How could I forget? That stubborn old goat—I think he made me balance more apples on my head in punishment than I've even eaten.”
“Oh yes, you were always the little rebel,” Lucent said, laughing at the memories. “But do you remember what he taught us? On Chaos, especially?”
“I am the Lord Chaos, Lucent,” he said flatly, “so yes, I remember that lesson easily.”
“Rule number one with Chaos—“ began Lucent.
“—Chaos has no rules,” finished Chance. “Chaos is ever changing, redesigning the game to its own desires and ends.”
“And those desires and ends are yours, Chance. Who can claim what way is Chaos' except you?”
Chance thought it over but still said nothing.
Lucent knew he had him. He knew he had him even before he showed up; the storm had said that clear enough. While Chance liked to talk tough and act cold, Lucent remembered what they were both like before taking their positions as Avatars of Harmony and Chaos. Chance had been an adventurous and fun-loving colt, always getting into some form of trouble regardless of the consequences. And while that often meant Lucent found himself in trouble right along with him, Chance never truly put his friend in danger or left him to take the punishment alone. They had been a team from day one. All but blood made them brothers.
Chance would never abandon his brother in a time of need, even if he had good reason to do so. Lucent knew this was a blatant risk to the balance between Harmony and Chaos but felt it was worth it.
Of course, it was his newborn daughter.
Chance exhaled a long, slow breath. Lucent waited, an expression of hope clear on his face.
“I've already threatened the balance enough by letting Chaos run free to make this storm. I might as well put the risk to good use.”
Lucent felt immediately relieved and began to proclaim his thanks but Chance interrupted him.
“I can't promise anything, Lucent. It's a good plan, I'll admit, but not perfect. You say the healers have given her an absolute death sentence? I can only apply a little Chaos to give her a chance. There is no way I can control how much of a chance—she may still die.”
“I understand. I'm asking you to do no more than you feel appropriate.”
They both nodded in understanding at the stakes of this chosen path.
Lucent began to lead Chance towards the ward that housed his daughter when Chance said, “After this...After this I'm done, Lucent.”
“What?” he asked, confused.
“I'll do what I can, but then I'm leaving and never coming back. No matter what you say or ask, no matter how many years pass. This will be it.”
“But Chance—“
“No, Lucent. My mind is made up. On this I remain firm.”
The look that passed between them was timeless; a split second moment conveying an eternity of emotions and thoughts left unsaid.
“Very well,” was all Lucent could find to say.
The two headed towards the palace's north tower, to the sick ward where a supposedly prophesied savior lay dying.
Fair Chance looked upon the scene in front of him and decided nothing in his long life had deserved his pity more. Lucent had sent away the attendant healer and was patiently waiting a few steps away as Chance examined the sickly foal carefully.
He could imagine that Lucent's heart must ache to urge him for more haste, but really what was the point? It was true the little one was guaranteed death, but within hours, not moments thankfully enough. Now that Chance had agreed to help, there was nothing to do but let him work at his own pace. There was untold and unknown dangers lurking in this action; caution would better suit them over haste.
The room was kept dark with only a pale magical candle on a stand in the center providing the barest of illumination. The magic in it was wearing thin, causing the flame to dance which sent out shadows and ghosts along the walls. Neither Lucent nor Chance heeded the apparitions—they had long since overcome their fear of the dark or the demons hiding within.
Slowly, the shadows were banished further by the aura of Chance's horn—a haze of all the colours of the rainbow filled the room, shimmering and morphing randomly. Many ponies found the pleasant warmth of Lucent's golden magical aura to be enchanting; Lucent always said he hadn't thought so. The beauty and mesmerizing curiosity of Chance's aura had always seemed more fascinating.
Chance bent his head and slowly ran his magic over the small, frail body shivering in the bed. Taking back the cover, he paused with genuine shock and spoke his thoughts aloud.
“An alicorn!?”
“Yes,” Lucent replied quietly. “Can you remember the last time you saw an alicorn, Chance? Or even heard somepony who believed they existed outside of a story? I can't even fully recall if any still lived when we were born. But just a few hours ago this land was blessed with two.”
Chance turned and the awe in his voice was clear, “Two? You've had two alicorn children?”
“Two daughters. The first was healthy, strong—and fairly large for a foal. There was some fear with the birth, actually. But Melody came out fine, though, since...the second foal was small, even by newborn standards. Right away, the healers knew there was a problem.”
Responding only with an affirmative grunt, Chance returned to his examination of the little alicorn.
This child was one of the prophesied saviors? One of the two most powerful magic users Equestria would ever see, period? On this tiny creature would rest the great responsibilities of the entire unicorn class. He couldn't really believe it.
But she was an alicorn. There was no avoiding that horn, those wings.
Her sides rose and fell with alarming speed and even more alarming irregularity, the little thing could hardly breathe. Placing a hoof upon her forehead, he found she was burning up.
He lightly stroked her pale blue coat and she shuddered. She was such a tiny, precious thing. And her life was in his hooves? It would be laughable if it was not so tragic.
“OK, Lucent. Stand back and keep a hard rein on your power. Chaos must rule for a time—I hope what results won't kill us all.”
“Giving up before you begin? How unlike you, Chance. Growing complacent in your old age, I see,” Lucent said with a friendly chuckle. The effect was somewhat lost with the amount of nervousness hidden behind the joke, however.
Allowing himself to smile at the attempted playful jab, Chance began pouring more magic into focus within his horn. A little cheer to relax the nerves—that was the sort of thing Lucent had always been good for. He would never say so, but Chance knew he needed it.
There was no specific spell he could possibly cast and that was part of the risk. To a large degree, he would simply have to give the Chaotic forces within him complete control. The best he could do was simply...suggest what it should do. And pray like mad it listened.
Since absorbing the terrible power of Chaos, he had never let it roam for even a second. Honestly, he had no idea what might happen now that he was opening the box, so to speak. Could he contain it again when he was finished? Or would it run rampant, spreading eternal Chaos throughout Equestria, as it had done so many years ago?
As he focused, his mind raced with the memories of a time long since passed into myth.
Both he and Lucent had been simple unicorns then, albeit unicorns with an immense talent for magic. Even as foals, they had been hoofpicked for training as royal court magicians. Lucent had come from a prestigious family and while Chance's was as well, it was to a far lesser degree. Chance had known what it was like amongst the lower class—he had ran with earth ponies before his army of tutors, trainers, and watchers had forced him to stop.
As a result, it had always been hard for him to fit in amongst the court. Even studying magic couldn't still the restlessness in his heart. While he loved the magic, he hated the dry, endless lessons given by a never ending stream of over the hill unicorns who—as far as he was concerned—had long lost the true view on magic out in the world.
It was very important, all his many tutors had constantly reminded him. Very important he learn and master his magical talents. Lucent and he both were the key to bringing balance to Equestria. For then, while Equestria had been a peaceful and pleasant place to live for hundreds of years, it was beginning to become an ever increasing nightmare of instability.
The reason behind this change had been Harmony and Chaos, two semi-sentient forces with immense power behind their wills. Wills which were at constant battle with one another. A battle which had begun to draw in all three pony tribes.
Harmony had recruited the powerful magic of the unicorns to try and force its sway on all of Equestria. Chaos had reacted by controlling the pegasi, who in turn controlled Equestria's weather. It could easily be snowing one day and hot as Tartarus the next. The poor earth ponies were caught in the middle. They had always been in a poorer position compared to the other two tribes, so starvation was beginning to rear its ugly head, for it was impossible to field crops with the violently random weather.
Times were incredibly tough and the fear of open war put everyone on edge. It seemed like it would only take the smallest spark to set the country ablaze.
Finally, it all came to a head when one day the sun failed to rise.
He could remember it so clearly. At first he had been excited, because all his lessons had been canceled. But Lucent quickly made him see the real danger if the sun never rose again.
Three days they waited and three days the moon remained and the sun was nowhere to be seen. The unicorn court, the pegasi generals, and the earth pony representatives had been in session for all three of those days and still had reached no conclusion. Everypony was too busy blaming everypony else; nopony wanted to come up with a solution. It had seemed hopeless.
That was when Lucent told Chance he had devised a plan. Why shouldn't they seek out Chaos and Harmony and find out just what exactly was going on?
He had responded predictably: was Lucent completely insane? They were just colts, years away from being ready to tangle with forces as powerful as that.
“They always keep saying we're meant to bring balance to Equestria, Chance. Isn't it obvious this is what they meant? So why wouldn't it work?” had been his calm reply. “Besides, it'll be fun. Our very own adventure!”
Chance was shocked at first—it was so unlike his best friend who had always followed the rules to the letter. Normally it was Chance convincing a hesitant Lucent into trouble. He easily relented and they had set out a mere hour later.
His memories of the journey were hazy and vague, but he clearly remembered meeting the Wills of Chaos and Harmony. They had no physical being, but their inherent magical power was terrifyingly immense. As soon as Lucent and Chance found the source of the power they felt, they began to see a rush of images within their minds. Chaos and Harmony had longed for somepony to arrive, so they could communicate what had happened.
The two forces, so long opposed, had set aside their hatred of one another in favor of despair. Quickly, they explained that their constant fighting had, somehow, broken the orbits of the sun and the moon. The two celestial spheres would never again move on their own, they claimed.
The land would die, a slow and painful death. And Chaos and Harmony had both been to blame.
However, with Chance and Lucent's arrival, a spark of hope was born. The two forces had been working all their great energy to come up with a solution. While they had no power to fix the terrible mistake they had created—for Chaos could not create something so balanced as a sustainable orbit and Harmony could not unmake what was, in a way, the ultimate harmony of stillness—they suspected that unicorn magic might well be able to take over. It was not so unbelievable; after all, the unicorns had slowed or sped up the orbits for centuries to expand the earth ponies' growing seasons.
Examining the two colts over, however, their hope faded quickly. Chance and Lucent were two of the most magically apt of all the unicorns and they possessed only a fraction of the power it would take.
The two had sat, basking in the power of pure Chaos and Harmony, barely fighting off their own despair, made all the worse when they had been so close to a solution. It was Lucent who spoke up first.
“What if we combined our power?” he had asked.
After a moment, Harmony and Chaos suggested that it very well might work. If the two young colts would take in the power of Harmony and Chaos, they very well might be able to move the sun and moon on their own.
“It also seems, after having—for lack of a better word—met you that what you two lack is a proper appreciation for your own power. A true personality to balance out the elemental forces you possess. I think it would do all of Equestria good for us to become one permanently—not only can we stop this disaster from destroying everything now, but we can prevent anything like this from happening ever again.”
Chance was surprised that the two forces agreed and so readily. Chance himself had not been nearly so sure. Lucent had pulled him aside and explained this was their destiny. He had brought up an ancient prophecy their tutors had mentioned and that many had said pointed to them. Loosely, it bespoke of two beings who would arrive when needed most by all ponykind. The two would be bound tighter than blood but would stand as opposites. It said more, but neither had ever really bothered to remember such dry and arguably pointless history.
“Besides, think of everypony waiting back home. Can we really leave them, can we leave everything to simply fade away and die?”
No, Chance agreed, they couldn't very well let that happen. So he had agreed. He would bond with Chaos and Lucent with Harmony. None of them could ever have predicted the outcome. Or how painful the process would be.
Provided there were those who believed in the concepts, Harmony and Chaos were eternal—an eternity now available to Lucent and Chance. Along with eternal life and more power than Chance had ever believed possible came a sort of awareness of Equestria in its entirety. They could sense the pathways of energy running throughout the land; pathways they could use to bring in information or send out their own power.
With this awareness was the knowledge that they had been wrong. The new Avatars of Chaos and Harmony could not move the sun and moon, not on their own. This time it was Chance who suggested one last plan—to bring in the other unicorns, increasing the total power involved in the spell.
With their return it took little to convince the other ponies what they had become. Apparently their new power had expressed itself physically as well. They were now much larger than even a full grown pony. Their eyes possessed an inner strength and light that brought many of the others to their knees.
Lucent took the lead and explained the relatively simple spell and the complicated ritual behind it. He and Chance would be the loci guiding the massive amount of unicorn magic into place.
It had taken hours to gather the needed power and several unicorns had passed out in the process. A few had even died, giving absolutely all the magic at their disposal.
But it had worked. It was less about actually moving the sun and moon along a fixed path and more like simply getting them started. Once the spell took hold, the two orbs kept their orbits going through sheer momentum. It would simply require daily recharging to ensure the spell didn't fade completely. At this point, even Chance and Lucent were no longer necessary—a large gathering of powerful unicorns could supply the needed magic.
But Lucent and Chance were heroes, saviors, miracles in pony form. They gathered the leaders of the three tribes and explained what they had discovered and the power they had received. Or rather, Lucent explained it. Chance was never comfortable in the attentions of his elders, so he happily stood to the side.
So it had been Lucent who had garnered most of the praise, though that wasn't his intent. Furthermore, the ponies took more kindly to the Avatar of Harmony than that of Chaos. While in the beginning they had both been granted leadership roles, both he and Lucent emitted a sort of field of their respective forces. Around Lucent things tended to work out for the best; around Chance, bad luck and accidents took point. So the ponies began to avoid Chance and gather around their King Harmony, Lucent Concord.
It had only been a matter of time before Fair Chance, Lord Chaos, had exiled himself to the farthest stretches of Equestria. Both for his own peace of mind and the safety of everypony else. Upon his departure, no one besides Lucent had expressed they would miss him.
He recalled the years turning to decades turning into centuries. Lucent built up Ravaalon as the gem of Equestria. Harmony and peace ruled with Chaos abandoned to the wilderness. In time, Lucent even found a wife in the lovely unicorn, Merry Melody. And now a daughter. Two, if Chance was successful.
Everything for Harmony; everything for Lucent. Nothing for himself but an eternity of bitter loneliness. If he could go back, would he still agree to take in Chaos? Despite the consequences?
He began casting his spell, releasing the ancient will of Chaos a little at a time. It was getting harder to focus, his thoughts turning to the envy he felt at his best friend's happiness and his own constant somberness. He had never realized quite how much jealousy for Lucent lived in his heart until answering this request.
He had made the choice to take in Chaos' power because he loved Equestria and all the fools in it. He had made the choice to save this foal because he loved his best friend. But though Lucent returned that love and then some, it still only went so far. There was no one else. There never had been.
The magic began to travel up and down along the foal's body, moving rapidly. With it went the will of Chaos; hopefully, it would listen to his instructions to alter the odds of the foal's survival from no chance to as much could possibly be had. There really was no way to predict what might happen, even for him.
But once it was over—whether he was successful or not—he would leave and leave for good. What was coming back, even as rarely as he did, doing for him? All it did was remind him of all the things he could never have. No friends, no family, no love. Just Lucent's pity and he had grown sick of that ages ago.
“More...take more!” he spoke quietly through clenched teeth. “Curse you, listen to me! Take this power and do as I will! Live...Live...Live!”
What more could he do? This wasn't his fight. Wasn't his responsibility. But still he was breaking the rules they had established; it would be on his conscience, the accidents caused by Chaos' freedom. More guilt, more pain—just to provide relief to a stallion who had never known a day of suffering.
It wasn't fair! It wasn't balanced! It was a poor joke and he was the bloody punchline.
The foal's small body began to float in the air, surrounded by an ever-changing array of colours within his magical aura. Despite her physical weakness, the foal still contained an incredible amount of magical potential. It was resisting his spell.
“I will not be beaten by a dying child! I am the Lord Chaos and chance is my domain! Nothing is certain, nothing is without possibilities! Your life is in my hooves and I say live!”
Faster and faster the colours spun, weaving in and out of her body. Already he had released Chaos more strongly than desired, but still he kept on. Chaos worked through her body, through her very soul, but doing what exactly he couldn't tell.
Work! Put Harmony under our debt! We may receive nothing from this world but at the least we can put them under us—let them remember they owe us for this miracle, for this joy that we shall never know!
He was no longer sure if the voice he heard was his own. But it was he who spoke, he who cried out, he who demanded the outcome so desired.
“Live! LIVE!” he cried.
There was a blinding coruscation of colours and a loud cracking sound that shook the interior of the ward like an earthquake.
When the last sound died away, so too did the swirl of colours. Once again the room was half lit, conquered by shadow. The foal was lying on the bed again, seemingly no different than before. But while his own breathing was heavy and quick, Chance watched her carefully and saw the steady even rhythm of peaceful sleep.
He had done it. Or at least as much as could be done.
He had even managed to keep hold of Chaos. There was a little excess, but not enough to do any serious damage. Likely a tree branch would fall into a house or possibly someone would stump their hoof fairly painfully, but it should hardly be lethal. So no serious guilt for his conscience either.
“That was amazing, Chance,” spoke Lucent somewhat breathlessly. “Even I've never touched into my power so directly, not since we restarted the sun and moon.”
“Yes, well...It is done. Now, at least, she has a chance. A chance to live. Though I imagine, even if she does, she will always be stunted. But perhaps...someday her body will heal that as well.”
“Thank you, Chance. There are not enough words.”
“Then don't bother trying to find them. You are my only friend, Lucent. I owed you that much. But don't forget—you have a daughter because of me.” His words came out sharp. “I saved her. Where your Harmony was powerless, Chaos succeeded.”
Lucent looked completely taken aback, then said, “There's no need to speak like that, Chance. You know I appreciate what you've done immensely.”
Chance looked his friend in the eyes for a slow moment. They were steadfast and honest—yes, he was appreciative. He supposed he could ask for nothing more than that.
Letting out a slow sigh, he said, “Very well. I will await the morning. Simply to ensure no more Chaos than I expect made its way free.” He paused before adding, “And to see if your daughter lives.”
“You are certainly most welcome, Chance. Come, come! She'll need her rest. Let me show you to your room. You need your rest as well after a spectacle like that.”
“I assume it's the same room it always is?”
Lucent chuckled somewhat abashedly and replied, “Why, yes, yes it is. It's just easier to keep that room reserved full time.”
“I bet your servants are baffled at that.”
“Maybe just a bit. The rumors that go around every decade or so: it's a special torture chamber for enemies of the kingdom; or it's the secret suite of my hidden lover. Or harem.”
“Oh, that's a laugh!” Chance said through a rare boisterous laugh. “If anyone knew how terrible you were with mares. At least I had that one over you, back in the day.”
“If by 'had that one over me' you mean you were 'chased in terror through the palace', then yes, you were a regular fillykiller.”
“I wasn't being chased,” Chance took on a defensive tone. “I was simply being courteous—a proper gentlecolt could never pick and choose from so many wonderful admirers.”
“You just didn't want one of them to ask you to dance.”
Chance glared at Lucent through slitted eyes.
“Don't look at me that way. You were the one who skipped out on lessons.”
“I had better things to do than waltz around with some saddle sore mare!”
“Better things to do? Is that what you called switching out Maestro's mane powder with that ground Poison Joke?”
“Admit it, the fact that it grew his ears out to the size of watermelons was hilarious.”
“Maybe just a tad. We all knew who did it, but nopony had any proof,” Lucent recalled fondly, “at least until you spilled it all over yourself. Then they made you go with no cure for a week. And for a week you were covered in blue spots and had the worst luck imaginable. Now that was hilarious.”
Fair Chance grumbled a bit at the memories of that terrible, terrible week. They both stood in silence, lost in age old memory for a time.
Chance broke the silence first with, “I know where the room is. I'll see myself to it. No sense in you losing any more time. I'm sure you'll want to see to your other daughter.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes, I'm sure. And probably more importantly, go tell your wife. I imagine she's still awake, worried sick.”
Lucent thought it over for a moment and hesitantly said, “You do have a point...if you are sure?”
Chance nodded the affirmative.
“Alright. I'll see you in the morning, Chance. Please,” he said that last with such profoundness that Chance easily heard the unsaid words: don't leave in the middle of the night, we should talk more.
Trading goodnights, Chance watched Lucent exit the door they came in. The door that led to the palace's exit. He knew he would need to go through the door on the opposite side, out into the open air along the wall to the next tower. That is, if he intended to head towards his room.
For several minutes he contemplated, the room silent save for the faint breathing of the newborn foal. Turning to her, he ran his hoof lightly through her mane and over her coat, still marveling at her horn and wings.
“Such a little thing...to cause so much trouble,” he whispered wistfully. “Do you realize what you're worth, small one? Not only to your father but to the whole kingdom? If they knew how close their symbol of hope had come to passing—”
He stopped. What was he doing? What was he saying? Was his heart so full of jealous bile that he couldn't appreciate the life in front of him for its own? This was a living thing, barely entered into life. More than that—she would become a thinking, feeling being. How could he feel anything but the greatest of wonder and awe at this magnificent work of nature?
Yes, he was jealous of Lucent, but, he found, also incredibly happy for him It was true what they said: children were a gift without equal.
He caught himself smiling and felt a tear well up in his eye. Maybe he would ask Lucent...In a manner of speaking, he was like the child's uncle.
“I wonder what they'll call you, little one,” he said, still stroking her mane. “Your coat reminds me so much of the evening sky, perhaps you should be nam—“
His words faltered suddenly—something had felt subtly off. Moving his hoof back barely an inch, he focused, fine tuning his power as tightly as he could. Right...there!
He recoiled lightly, his breath catching in his throat. No, no, no—he had been so careful! If any Chaos had not returned, it had simply dissipated without any will to sustain it, off to cause some errant mischief in the world. But no, he was certain. It could be nothing else.
A seed of Chaos had implanted itself within the child's soul; so intertwined there was no way he could remove it, not without causing serious—and most likely lethal—harm.
“How could this happen? I was so careful...so focused...” he trailed off as the realization hit him.
He had been focused all right: focused on his envy of Lucent's position. Yes, that would do it. A strong feeling like that could easily lead some of the Chaos astray, and had clearly done so.
Placing his hoof back over the seed, he examined it from every angle he possibly could. It was small, thank the heavens for that. It might not take effect for years. Decades even. If he warned Lucent about it, kept a close eye on the child as she grew and prepared her for its influence, she could be perfectly fine. But as with all things of Chaos, there was no guarantee.
“Forgive me, child. Oh by the sun and the moon, what have I done,” he said, turning away, tears filling his eyes.
Why? Why was this always his fate? He saved the child to possibly doom her later. Why was he so cursed? Could he do nothing right?
Though not wanting to leave the foal alone, admittedly there was nothing else he could do. Lucent had to be told and then Chance needed to leave before he caused anymore harm.
Turning towards the door Lucent had retreated through barely ten minutes prior, he froze, terrified at the mare he saw standing in the doorway. Merry Melody, her face a mess of tears and exhaustion, stood only with the help of an attendant nurse; Lucent Concord towered behind them, looking concerned for his wife.
Chance's mind raced—what was she doing here? What was she doing walking? He couldn't find any words to say as she hobbled closer to him. Before he knew it she stood before him, having shook off the nurse. She wobbled a bit while looking up at him, an unknown expression on her face.
“So you are Fair Chance?” her voice was weak and rough sounding. Chance couldn't believe she was walking around, especially if her delivery had been as hard as Lucent mentioned.
He said the only thing his mind could come up with, “I-I am he.”
Slowly—so slowly he felt he could see each minute muscle movement involved—her face broke into a smile and tears flowed from her eyes again. Without any warning, she slumped up against him and gave what surely must have been a hug though it was somewhat defeated by his height and her weakness.
“Lucent told me what you did. He told me—,” she had to pause for a large, wheezing breath, “He told me you rushed here as fast as you could and you saved her. All out of the kindness of your heart.”
He blushed and mumbled something incoherent. He had no experience with this sort of thing.
“So thank you, Fair Chance. Lucent has spoken of you a great deal—I know he considers you family. I couldn't agree more.”
Though surely it caused her pain, she raised up to lightly kiss him on the cheek, reddening his face even further. Lowering herself, she let go of the embrace only enough to look up into his eyes. Her face, so awash with pain and joy and tears, stopped his thoughts in their tracks. How could he tell them now? He couldn't bring himself to break the warmth and trust he saw in those eyes.
“I...I really don't...Uh,” he faltered. What on earth was he supposed to say? “Of course...I mean, it wasn't much. I had to at least try. Your daughter...she deserves a chance to live, like anypony.”
Melody continued to simply look at him, barely nodding her head as he rambled on. Her body began to lightly shake and Chance only just caught her as her legs gave out. Lucent had rushed the moment he noticed her begin to fall and between them they were able to gently move her to a nearby bed.
“Dearest, oh, you should not have pushed yourself so hard!” Lucent was distraught. “You could have thanked Chance in the morning, when he could have come to you.”
Melody gave a faint laugh and said between ragged breaths, “Yes...in the morning...Celebration for our babies...and Chance.”
“Yes, yes, of course...now you sleep, rest. Both of our daughters are going to be fine now, thanks to Chance. We'll discuss tomorrow, well, tomorrow!”
Chance couldn't hear Melody's response—he doubted if even Lucent could—but soon she faded off into sleep, her worries and fears laid to rest at last. Lucent ran his hoof over her sweat matted mane, turned, then gestured for Chance to follow him. They exited through the upper door leading to the outside wall.
The storm had passed completely. Chance marveled at the night sky, with its endless stars and the moon shining so very large and bright.
“It will all work out, Chance. I know it,” Lucent said lightly.
“And how can you be so certain?”
He pointed to the moon and responded, “Because of that.”
“The moon?”
“The moon,” Lucent repeated with a nod. “I didn't mention what we're planning on naming the girls, did I?”
Chance shook his head.
“The daughter you haven't seen, her coat is an incredibly pale pink, nearly white. But her mane matches my eyes—a brilliant cerulean blue, so much like the sky. Melody and I agreed to name her Celestia.”
“Fitting. And pleasant. For the other?”
“Can you not see it? Where her sister inherits the day, that little foal in there inherits the night.”
“Mmm. Luna is a nice name.”
Lucent chuckled and said, “We thought so, too.”
They both stood there, silent, reflecting on the calm evening—an immense contrast to mere minutes before. Such was the fickle power of Chaos.
The power of Chaos. In his awkwardness at Melody's appreciations and worry over her collapse, he had blessedly forgotten about the seed of Chaos residing within Luna's very being. What was he to do? After something like that, he couldn't bring up such disastrous news.
Especially considering it might not be disastrous, he reminded himself. There was nothing to do except leave it alone for now. For tonight, he would leave—there was no need to possibly tarnish the delicate happiness of this situation anymore than he already had. But he would return, most likely in a few months.
That was reasonable. It would give him time to figure out exactly what he should do. Lucent and Melody would have had plenty of time to rest and recuperate. They would be months full of a happy parenthood and the joy of watching their child grow, safe and sound. So that would reaffirm his claim that the seed was inactive for now.
“...Chance? Chance!” Lucent's call snapped him back to the present. He had been saying something, but Chance had missed it.
“Are you all right, friend? You had an odd look on your face.”
“Of course. Just...a little more tired than I thought I was,” he said with a nervous laugh.
“Indeed...well, I just wanted to say thank you again, Chance.”
“Lucent, please...”
“No, no. Just let me speak. In many ways, you were right. I've never known all the pain and loneliness you have over the years. I never...What I mean is, I didn't mean to belittle that, or by association you. I realize I am blessed in so many ways—and you, Chance, are one of those ways.
“But I lost sight of your position in that, Chance. I was so happy with what life had given me, I didn't think about what I hadn't given back to ponies like you. I swear I'll do better by you, Chance. Because what would I be without you? An old stallion, lost in time and honestly alone.”
Chance had no idea how to respond. He came up with half a dozen well thought out and suitably sappy speeches. After a moment, he abandoned all of it to simply wrap a hoof around his friend's neck and hugged for all he was worth.
“I know, Lucent. I know,” he said, tearing up.
Lucent returned the hug and they held it for a long moment, Harmony and Chaos in balance as always was meant to be. Occasionally striking out at one another, often undermining each others' hopes and goals, but in the end they were two necessary halves of a whole. One defined by the other. Each never truly being complete without the other.
It had been true even when they were just normal, mortal wide-eyed foals, all those many years ago.
They broke off the hug on equal terms and shared a long, hard laugh at some of the events of the night.
“It will be morning before we know it. I think it's time for this pair of old timers to hit the hay, don't you think?” asked Lucent, following it with a deep yawn.
“I would love to. But I think...I think I'm going to go on back tonight.”
“What? But, Chance—“
He waved a hoof and cut him off, “Don't get me wrong. I'm not upset anymore. And, well, I'll be back soon. There's just something I have to take care of, OK? I'll tell you when I return, probably in a few months.”
Lucent seemed dubious.
“Look, I promise I'll be back,” Chance murmured, rolling his eyes.
“What was that?” asked Lucent seriously, cocking an eyebrow.
“I said, I promise I'll be back.”
“Cross your heart?”
“Yes.”
“Hope to fly?'
“Yes.” Chance cringed as he knew what was next.
“Stick a—“
“Yes, for heaven's sake! Yes! You bloody foal.”
Lucent gave him one last hard eye, then smiled big and nodded.
“Very well. I hereby give you permission to leave.”
“Hilarious. Remind me to kick you between the hindquarters when I return.”
The two shared another laugh, exchanged farewells and well wishes, then departed, with Chance leaving Lucent to his wife and daughter in the ward.
Passing the same guards as before, Chance gave them a half-smile and tried to appear nonthreatening. The elder guard saluted crisply, his partner just a second too late. The guard that Chance had transmogrified looked a bit nervous but saluted as well. Chance gave him what he felt was a suitably apologetic smile on the way out.
Walking along the pathway leading away from the palace, Chance was already lost in thought about what to do in regards to the Chaos seed. He had no need to pay too much attention to where he walked—the path had not changed in hundreds of years.
It made sense, then, that he would fail to see the very faint, shimmering rainbow mist that followed him from Ravaalon directly into the unnamed forest, silently stalking him through the last vestiges of the night.
~-----~
It was approaching evening again when Chance made it back to his abode. Another pair of pleasant surprises due to becoming the Avatar of Chaos had been the ability to easily push aside sleep deprivation (to a degree at any rate; he had learned the hard way just how far he could push it—he still wasn't sure if he had really slept for an entire month straight or if he had simply forgotten the proper date) and an almost limitless endurance for non-strenuous activities such as walking. While he had been in deep thought through the entire journey, he still hadn't quite figured out a solution to help the newborn Luna.
After the picture perfect grandeur of Ravaalon and the royal palace, it was deeply relieving to see once again the natural simplicity of his own home. Perhaps it befitted a senile hermit more than an immortal Avatar of Chaos, but Chance liked it and that was all that mattered.
In all his years, Chance had never seen such an enormous tree. The naturally petrified and mostly hollowed out tree had been an incredibly lucky find. It had taken only a few days of work with his magic to transform it into a three level house, complete with library, kitchen, pantry/storeroom, study, magical laboratory, two bed and bathrooms (though he never had guests, it was nice to be prepared) and an excellent veranda on the third floor complete with stargazing telescope. He had even been contemplating adding in a basement, though for what purpose he hadn't figured out yet.
He hadn't cleared too much of the forest around his home—it wasn't the easiest thing in the world for him to properly remove a tree—but now he began to consider adding something of a front yard. He had been somewhat toying with the idea of Lucent's daughters visiting, once they were older. Perhaps he could even build a seesaw or maybe a swing set.
“Now isn't that a thought,” he said to himself. Long years of isolation had caused him to develop a habit of speaking aloud. The sound of even his own voice helped tremendously to stave off some of the boredom and loneliness of constant solitude. “Visitors, and foals no less! That's almost as crazy as...me being an uncle.”
That idea sparked a great many feelings in his chest, most of them surprisingly pleasant. Really the only negative to it was his jealousy over Lucent's way of life. Chance would almost certainly never have the opportunity to marry and therefore never have any children of his own.
It was so odd; he had never recognized that desire within himself before. He supposed he had been hiding a lot of his stronger feelings deeper than even he could have realized. For he liked that notion a great deal: him, a father.
He had no memory of his own parents. In fact, many of his earliest memories were either gone or incredibly hazy; though the ones that remained were crystal clear. Lucent had made similar remarks, when asked about it in the past. Chance had always suspected it was a natural outcome for a mortal mind living an immortal life. There was only so much one could retain, eventually the old was replaced by the new. However, sometimes he found even recent events hard to recall. Perhaps, as the years stretched on, he simply experienced time differently than normal ponies.
Pausing his reverie, he magicked open the front door and proceeded to the kitchen to begin the preparations for a nice, hot mug of tea. He needed to calm his nerves and relax his mind. He needed to sleep, if he was going to be honest, but that could wait until he had something—anything—to solve the Chaos seed issue.
Letting his magic go through the long since rote motions of tea making, he hopped up onto a bench, got comfortable, let out a slow sigh, and mumbled to himself, “I should have told Lucent before I left. That would have been the smart thing to do.”
In his mind's eye flashed the face and especially the eyes of Merry Melody. He couldn't ever remember anypony looking at him like that, not even Lucent. He wasn't sure if those pale purple spheres would bless or haunt him in the days to come.
“I couldn't...Couldn't betray that hope. She was so happy, so relieved that her child had a chance now. Her daughter. ...my niece.”
He still couldn't quite get over that idea. Or the fact that he so desperately wanted a child of his own. Being immortal and living in solitude, he had never really thought of his own legacy. Lucent had several: a kingdom well run with subjects who loved and respected their ruler; a loving marriage to a very beautiful and talented mare; and now two daughters who would supposedly solve the last few problems remaining to the unicorns.
“So not only do you have children, old friend, but children famous and celebrated before their time.”
He continued to ramble, both in his speech and thoughts, thinking about what the daughters of Lucent Concord would grow up to be like. What sort of ponies would they be? Chance figured it depended on how good of parents Lucent and Melody were.
He didn't notice the magic making his tea had slowly petered out, ending the refreshment before it had begun. His eyes slowly closed as his speech became more and more sleep addled. The last words he uttered before the exhaustion of the past couple of days took him were, “How I wish I could be a father...”
Hours passed and the night was eerily quiet save for Chance's rhythmic breathing. The sky was still clear and the moon was full and bright, lighting up the night for all to see. Regardless, there was no one to observe the rainbow mist creep in under the door to Chance's tree home.
Completely silent as it moved with a clear direction, it approached Fair Chance as he slept on. It made its way slowly around him, beginning at the head and then down all the way along his lean frame. After a moment, the barest echo of an echo could be heard had anypony been there to hear it: “How I wish I could be a father...” spoke Chance's voice, so faintly, again and again. However, this time it was not coming from his lips.
The mist gathered, hovering over his head and paused, seeming to observe the sleeping stallion. Chance's lids showed movement underneath as he dreamed of running and playing with a variety of foals—Lucent's and his own.
Moving away from Chance, the mist began rotating and pulsing, faster and faster. It steadily coalesced into itself, becoming smaller and more dense with each pulse. Save for the echo of Chance's words, not a sound was heard within the home, nor was the mist's blinding movement causing even the faintest of breezes to disturb the room.
Tighter and tighter it wound itself, giving off bright flashes of rainbow colours—red, orange, yellow, blue, green, violet; repeating over and over and over again.
Finally, when it had shrunk from a large, vapor-like cloud to a solid looking oblong shape, there was a bright flash of white. Then the room was dark again, the silence stretching on; seemingly nothing any different than the moment before.
So when it began, the sound was all the more piercing as a result. It started off small—a tinny sort of buzzing. But as the moments passed it increased in volume in waves, changing from a buzz to a whine to what was clearly a cry. On and on it went, pausing momentarily so that whatever it was could breathe in.
With the sudden break in silence came a subtle change in the very atmosphere. What was the peace of a forest in the middle of the night shifted into a scene of unease and paranoia. Where before the animals had been silent now came the nighttime cries of birds, beasts, insects and the many hidden monsters of the wood. Something had become fundamentally wrong and nature responded quite negatively to the perversity.
For a few moments, Chance continued to sleep. But with the cry and the change came an alteration to his dreams. What had started off as sunshine and happy days turned into the darkest of nightmares. He began to thrash about, his breathing growing heavier by the second, when finally he threw himself off the bench and collapsed into a sweating heap on the floor.
The impact instantly woke him, for which he was quite thankful. He had never had nightmares so terrible before—with consciousness they were already beginning to fade.
It took a second for him to recover enough of his senses to hear the crying. Once he had, his horn glowed with magic, lighting the candles on the kitchen table. Scanning the room, he saw nothing out of place or different that might be causing the noise.
But when he turned back to look at the floor nearby, he found the source of the crying: it was a bundle of blankets that he had never seen before. And it was moving, of that he was certain. The blankets themselves were a rainbow of colour, so it was easy to see the movement.
“That...What?” he blurted, completely bewildered.
He got up on his hooves slowly and deliberately, then simply stared. His mind was running double time to work itself around this puzzle, but Chance kept coming up blank.
The bundle was about the size of a newborn foal, he estimated. But the shape was all wrong: this was much thinner and taller than a foal would be.
“What are you...?” he whispered, activating his magic again, directing it at the blankets of the bundle. They were tangled and twisted together to appear as one but it was comprised of six different blankets. Each a separate colour of the rainbow.
One by one he removed them all, and with each taken away it revealed more of the bizarre creature underneath. Without the purple blanket, he uncovered what appeared to be an eagle's claw. The next blanket to come undone was blue; it was hiding a furry lion's paw. Then came off the green, which revealed a pony-like face, albeit the proportions being different from anypony Chance had ever seen.
Whatever it was, it had fallen back asleep with the removal of the first blanket. With each exhale of breathe, it made a light whistle around an oversized tooth on the right side of the mouth. It also appeared to have the beginnings of a pair of mismatched horns on its head—though they were barely more than stubs at the moment.
He took off the yellow blanket and was shocked to see a wing not unlike a pegasus'; but what was most shocking was the leathery bat-like wing accompanying it. As well, curiously the creature's fur changed colours from a light gray to a reddish brown at about that mark. Its body was serpentine, something Chance only vaguely recalled happened in dragons sometimes.
With the orange blanket removed, Chance could see that the serpentine description was more apt than he originally knew. Wrapped by that blanket was a red, scaly tail, not unlike a dragon's. Finally he removed the red blanket, uncovering the thing's hooves—or at least, one of them was a hoof, but of a goat, the other being like a large lizard's leg.
Lying the blankets aside in a pile, the creature continued to sleep peacefully. It readjusted and curled in along itself, a small smile evident on its lips.
While looking like nothing he had ever seen before—like nothing else in all of existence, he was sure—it clearly had the tell-tale signs of being a baby...whatever it was. It seemed to mostly favor an equine and draconic shape, between the body, tail and head. The rest was just a chaotic jumble of random creatures.
“A chaotic jumble,” he whispered. That seemed to strike something in his thought processes and he repeated, “A chaotic jumble.”
Was it possible? There hadn't been that much leftover power...had there? He hadn't meant to fall asleep but he remembered where most of his thoughts had been before he had: Lucent's family and his own desires for a child of his own.
Chaos, it seemed, had granted his wish.
Initially the idea was terrifying. The will of Chaos making a conscious choice to fulfill his heart's desire, which required ridiculously complex magic beyond anything any unicorn would dare to dream, was far more independent an activity than he had allowed in centuries. Not to mention it had followed him across the many miles from Ravaalon. The power should have long since reduced to nothing over that sort of distance.
It seemed even the Avatar of Chaos could forget Chaos' most basic rule from time to time. Or at least underestimate the true meaning of that rule.
But after a moment, Chance warmed to the idea. Who cared how it had come about—Chaos had apparently created for him a child! Looking about at the peacefulness of his kitchen, he saw that nothing had been destroyed or corrupted or any number of negative things his mind came up with.
Carefully picking up the strange little creature, Chance thought it over, again and again. It had been what he wanted, if not exactly how he had expected it. What else could he do? He wouldn't abandon the little one to its fate in the woods. No, he would raise it—a child of his very own. A gift he had been certain he would never receive.
An odd noise surprised him into the present and he realized the baby was awake and looking at him.
He barely withheld the laugh that forced its way up. The little dragon-pony—he would have to figure out a better name and soon—looked at him with a happy smile that emphasized the one oversized tooth and a pair of eyes whose pupils were so mismatched as to be unbelievably endearing. It raised its arms towards him and let out another coo.
Stifling his laughter at the sight, Chance took a quick look over and saw he had been blessed with a son.
“And now you need a name,” he said, frowning. This wasn't something he had expected to ever do, so he had never given it any thought.
He had no celestial inspirations such as Lucent had had for his daughters. Though that train of thought provoked an interesting idea: Lucent Concord and the fact that this being had been formed out of Chaos. This time, Chance did laugh aloud. It was brilliant in so many ways.
He held out his son and merely admired the existence of him. The child, in return, let out a happy sounding noise and smiled again.
Hugging the child close, he let out a small cheer. Then, with more joy in his heart than he had ever known he proclaimed, “Your name, little one, shall be Discord!”
