An Early Reunion

Chapters

1. This Day
2. In Wrath
3. Wine
4. The Test Begins
5. The Pegasus Race
6. The Unicorn Challenge
7. The Alicorn Proof
8. Revelation
9. Abandonment
10. Departure
980 Years Later

1. This Day

The moon set, and for the barest moment there was nothing but darkness across the land. Then on the distant, mountain-strewn horizon, the first glimmer of golden, warm light began to appear. Within moments, the source of the light climbed above the horizon, as the bright, burning orb of the sun began its ascent into the sky: night had given way to day as, upon the grassy hilltop she had alighted upon, the white-cloaked alicorn watched, violet eyes wide.

She ruffled her wings once, stretching them a few times, then set off at a gallop, down the hill, then up the next one. As she reached its top, she kicked off, leaping and wings beginning to beat in long, steady patterns as they caught the early morning air and lifted her higher and higher into the sky along with the sun, cloak billowing behind her in the wind caused by both her altitude and every beat of her wings.

And as she flew, towards the mountains, towards the city of Canterlot, towards her destiny, she could not help but sing.

“This day is going to be perfect,
“It’s the day of which I've dreamed since I was small…
“Whoever thought it could be me
“Who turned out to be royalty?
“Who could have thought that Canterlot would be my goal?

“This day is going to be perfect,
“It’s the day of which I've dreamed since I was small…
“I’ll see my sister once again
“I’ll make so many brand new friends
“I’ll restore my name and honor once and for all!”

Between rocky peaks, still covered in snow despite being late spring, the alicorn soared. Her journey had been a long one, and a lonely one. That could describe her whole life, her whole new life, in fact, but in particular it applied to the last week or so since she had set out from Cavallia, alone. Her caretakers hadn’t wished for her to journey alone – they had wanted a grand procession, a long line of servants and retainers to follow her, and indeed she had played along with their wishes until the very end, the very night before her departure, when she had snuck out of Roam, her city, and began her journey north and east.

No, this journey was one she had to make by herself. In her heart of hearts, she knew this to be true.

“I can’t wait to see that gate
“I’ll pass on through, make my debut!
“And – I’d be lying if I said
“That my heart isn't beating fast
“At the thought of ponies amassed
“To see their princess, returned to them at last!

“Oh I will be there so soon
“Standing there in that throne room
“Luna please forgive what I have done!”

Beneath the alicorn, the mountains gave way to a wide, deep valley, carved by the course of a winding river. The river was bordered on either side by a rustic town – in Cavallia, it would have been considered a large settlement, the largest for miles around, but in this land, in Equestria, it was just one of countless dozens of its size. Still, it was almost a familiar sight. The ground here, too rocky for proper farming, was instead used to grow vineyards. The alicorn wondered idly how Equestrian wine measured up to that of Cavallian origin. Cavallia was known throughout the continent for its grapes and the wines they produced, after all.

Within moments of seeing the village before her, though, the alicorn shot over it, then left it far behind. This was proof of her heritage: many pegasi could fly as fast as she was now, or even faster, but few could do so for so long a period, keeping the pace that the alicorn had for days on end. Even fewer could have done so on the diet she had persisted on. The magnitude of what was coming made the alicorn feel that she had to arrive in Canterlot pure in mind, in spirit, and in body, and so, for a week straight, she had eaten nothing but the grass of the earth, drank nothing but water from the clouds and the rivers of Equestria.

“Will she believe me when I say
“I don’t deceive, I am the Day?
“And – it is truth when I say
“Though the name feels wrong on me
“All my homeland knows it to be
“That I am the Sun reborn once again!

“For I am Celestia
“Returned to my Equestria
“It’s been twenty years but I’ve finally come home!”

The timing of that verse could not have been better. The alicorn soared over a final peak, and suddenly, set against the visage of the rising sun, there it was: Canterlot, the largest city in the known world, home to thousands and thousands of ponies of every tribe. Set upon a mountain plateau, built from marble and granite, Canterlot was a vertical city, with towers and spires stretching towards the sky.

The alicorn descended quickly, landing easily upon the well-maintained cobblestone road that led to the gates of Canterlot. Though she landed some distance away, so as to prepare herself for a more discrete entrance than her caretakers in Roam had desired, she could see even from here that the gates were open, and though guarded, they were ready to accept visitors to the city – including her, as she folded her travelling cloak carefully over her wings, and smiled brightly as she approached.

“Now that I’m so near to Canterlot,
“I see all I’ve dreamed of and sought…

“Equestria, I have come home
“To sit again upon the throne
“Celestia has returned
“At last!”

It…was mostly empty.

Celestia blinked a few times as she looked around. Canterlot was at least twice the size of Roam, the capital of Cavallia, where she had been reborn, yet on the streets she saw no more ponies than she might of in that far away city – in fact, she was fairly certain that there were less, even taking the early hour into account. As she trotted, she noticed entire buildings that sat empty, many of which had fallen into disrepair, disgracing this noble capital by blighting its grand appearance with squalor and decay.

“Che cosa è successo qui?” she asked, forgetting herself and falling back into Cavallian, the language of her youth. Given that the battle between Luna and Celestia – that was, Celestia in her previous incarnation – had begun here, in Canterlot, she supposed the lack of ponies was sort of understandable, but surely after more than twenty years, ponies would have begun to return to Canterlot, yes?

They couldn’t fear Celestia – Celestia as she once was – that much, could they?

Celestia shook those thoughts from her mind, and put on her best smile as she walked up to a fruit vendor, horn glowing a light blue as she removed some golden coins from her travelling cloak’s pocket. Her journey complete, she no longer felt a need to subsist only on grass and water. “Hail and well met, good sir!” she proclaimed to the yellow earth pony as she approached. “Might I trouble thee for some of thy oranges? They remind me so of – ”

“Darlin’, is that gold?” the pony interrupted, eyeing Celestia’s coins warily, as though they might spring at him and…well, Celestia wasn’t certain at all what it was that two coins less than an inch in diameter might do to him, but whatever it was, he seemed worried.

Celestia smiled. “Indeed it is, good sir! For you see, though I do wish for thy oranges, I also would inquire as to the location of the Drunk Duck Inn. Surely two golden lires shall – ”

“Lires?” the pony interrupted, again, taking the bits in his hooves and inspecting them closely. “Hey…these ain’t even Equestrian!”

Celestia blinked. “Ain’t?” she asked, confused as she mentally rifled through her Equestrian vocabulary.

“Yeah! They ain’t! What’re you tryin’ ta pull?”

Celestia looked to either side of her, wondering if the pony she wished to meet at the Drunk Duck Inn had arrived without her noticing. But no, she was standing alone. “‘Voi?’ ‘Tirare?’” she asked herself in a low voice, confused at his usage of the plural, and asking why she was dragging something when she was clearly unburdened but for her cloak. “I…er…I apologize, good sir, but I have learned Equestrian in a…formal setting. I am…unfamiliar…with the common, vulgar forms and terminology…”

The earth pony eyed Celestia. “Who ya callin’ bad-mouthed?”

“Nopony! I apologize. Equestrian is not my native language. I do not mean to cause thee offense…”

The pony’s gaze, against all expectations, softened. “Oh…y’all ain’t from ‘round here? S’pose I shoulda’ known what with yer thy’s n’ accent n’ such.”

Celestia blinked. She had understood about half of that. His grammar was positively atrocious – but then, she supposed that it was the same in Cavallia amongst the peasantry. Thinking back, her own tongue had been quite vulgar before she had begun to manifest her true form and had been taken to Roam for training.

“Ya don’t see no gold coins these days,” the earth pony continued. “Nopony wants ‘em. She used ta put it on everythin’. Why – ” he pointed a hoof behind Celestia, to a tall, largely empty building. “Whole thin used ta’ be covered in th’ stuff. But no one wants it no more. We jes’ barter n' haggle. Hear they're gonna start makin’ silver coins, though.”

Celestia blinked at that, taking several moments to parse through the vulgar form of Equestrian. “Er…” she said, looking into her cape’s pocket. “I…I am afraid I do not have any silver coins, nor anything to barter with…thou must understand, gold is still quite common in Cavallia…”

“That’s ‘cause y’all didn’t have her go mad on yet front door,” the earth pony explained. His eyes glazed over slightly as he spoke. He was old enough, Celestia realized, to have witnessed events himself. “Y’all didn’t see her in the end…mane and tail all aflame. Eyes as empty and as cruel as her sun…y’all weren’t there at the coronation…laughin’ an’ threatenin’ at the same time…”

Celestia blinked. That…was not entirely true. In a way, she had been there, but she didn’t remember any of it. Her rebirth was merciful in that it had not given her the memories of her past life, had even changed her appearance – but none of that excused her from her crimes. “I prithee, accept my apology,” Celestia begged, bowing. “I shall endeavor to repair all that I have done. I swear it.”

The earth pony blinked a few times, shaking his head and looking to Celestia. “Shucks. ‘Twere an honest mistake.” Celestia got the distinct impression that the orange vendor thought she was apologizing for the coins, and not her actions in a previous life. She opened her mouth to explain herself, when he continued: “‘Least ya ain’t one a’ them impersonators.”

Celestia blinked at that. “I…impersonators?” she asked.

The earth pony’s glare grew harsh again, though it was not directed at Celestia. “Y’all will know ‘em when ye see ‘em. There’s a bunch all at the castle right now.” He shook his head, then eyed the golden lires again. “I’ll tell ya what. I can’t take that gold, but I’ll let ya have at these,” he turned around, and put a trio of oranges into a thin, burlap sack. “Y’all are gonna have a hard enough time if’n alls ya gots ta spend is gold. Ain’t want to be the first ta’ ruin yer day.”

Celestia offered her best smile at that, horn glowing as she took the offered oranges. “I thank thee,” she said. “Might I beg a further boon from thee?”

The pony stared blankly at the inquiry.

“Er…” Celestia thought, trying to parse through her Equestrian vocabulary to express what she wanted in as simple a way as possible. “Might I ask for…indicazioni? directions?”

“Oh!” the pony said. “Sure. That’s always on the house.”

Celestia very nearly did her own blank stare at that, but pressed on at the pony’s congenial attitude and affirmation of her request. “I seek a pegasus pony who was to arrange for my lodgings. I was to meet him at the Drunk Duck Inn…but, I am afraid I do not know where that is. Prithee, canst thou enlighten me?”

“Ah don’ smoke,” the earth pony said, confusing Celestia. “Y’all shouldn’t either. Bad for ya. But if’n it’s the Drunk Duck yer lookin’ for, it’s thataway,” the pony pointed down the street, towards Canterlot Castle itself. “Jes’ keep canterin’ ‘till ya see it. Straight ahead.”

“Molte grazie,” Celestia said, without thinking. She mentally kicked herself. “Er…I thank thee, good sir.”

“Not a problem, Miss…?”

Celestia paused a moment at that. Given the reputation that she had earned in her previous life – a reputation that was fully earned and deserved – she was less than eager, as of yet, to reveal her true name, despite her earlier singing across the mountain tops proclaiming her intent to do so. Clearly, she had an uphill struggle, one that she was not eager to undertake on her own – not before seeing her sister, Luna, first.

“Cadenza,” she answered instead, using the name of her youth, when she had thought herself a simple earth pony growing up on a vineyard, no different from any other pony. “Mi Amore Cadenza of Cavallia, good sir.”

“Bitter Orange,” the pony returned. “Welcome ta’ Canterlot, Miss Cadenza.”

When discussing her plan with Cartasole – well, telling him, more like, her intent to set out alone from Roam – Cartasole had wisely pointed out that Celestia would still need somepony in Canterlot to inform the reigning Princess Luna that she was coming and arrange all the details with Canterlot Castle itself. Cartasole had not, in all likelihood, realized that had just volunteered for the job, but through a combination of alicorn decree and more than a little wide-eyed begging, her loyal retainer had given in to her request and gone on ahead, stating that he would stay at the Drunk Duck Inn which, despite its name, was well known in Equestria as an inn and tavern of excellent reputation.

Naturally, just as Celestia was recalling this, a brown-coated pegasus was tossed, telekinetically, from the establishment, where he landed in a heap in front of the alicorn in disguise.

Celestia blinked a few times at the pony at her hooves. “Buongiorno, Signore Cartasole,” she remarked.

The pegasus looked up at her, sighed, and looked back down. Then, he realized who he was in front of. “Maestà!” he exclaimed, climbing onto his hooves and offering a deep bow. Celestia blushed at that – she would never get used to it – even as a green-coated unicorn, horn glowing the same yellow color as the aura that had thrown Cartastole from the Drunk Duck, approached, an incensed look on his face.

“An’ I’ll add that to yer tab as well, ya worthless inebriate!” The unicorn exclaimed. “She looks nothin’ like the Princess – ” at that he turned to Celestia, offering a slight bow of his own, as his tone and grammar shifted so fast Celestia was surprised he didn’t get whiplash, “begging thy pardon, m’lady, thou art as a flower in full bloom in thy beauty – ” he turned back to Cartasole, “but she looks nothin’ at all like Her Majesty, so I can only assume that you got into my mead. Again. Stars above, it isn’t even midday yet!”

Celestia held out a hoof before either stallion could speak. “Good sir,” she said, “am I to understand that my retainer has run up a substantial debt in thy establishment?”

Cartasole shook his head fervently, while the unicorn nodded with just as much vigor. On seeing this, the brown pegasus dropped into a deep bow. “Mi dispiace, Maestà! Essi non avranno i miei soldi!” he exclaimed.

“And there he is, speaking gibberish again,” the unicorn observed dryly.

Celestia’s eyes narrowed slightly. “It is Cavallian, good sir. My native tongue as well. Although, Cartasole, as we are in Equestria now, mayhap thou shouldst, for politeness’ sake, speak the local language instead?”

Cartasole looked suitably mollified at that, as did the unicorn. “Begging thy pardon, m’lady,” he said again. “And I apologize as well, but as thou appears to know this pony, I must ask thee to settle his tab.”

Celestia blanched at that. “I…am afraid I cannot,” she admitted, bowing her head in shame. “I sent Cartasole, here, ahead of me with many lires, and I carry the same. I did not know that gold is now anathema within Canterlot.”

The unicorn let out a long sigh. “First foreign customer in years, and a noble too, and what happens?” he asked in a low voice, then looked to Celestia. “My lady, his tab is substantial.”

Celestia could not help but laugh a little. “He has been here but a month! How large could it possibly be?”

The unicorn named a number.

Celestia’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. “Cosa?” she demanded, forgetting her own admonishment. “Come? How hast my retainer run up such a large debt to thee? Wherefore wouldst thou allow it at all?”

The unicorn proprietor’s eyes narrowed as he looked to Cartasole. “’Tis not merely his debt, m’lady. ‘Tis the lost business as well. Ever since thy retainer arrived, he hath been frightening away my customers, proclaiming that he heralds the return of…” he paused, looking around, and found the street they were on to be empty, then looked up, to where the sun was continuing its ascent into the sky. Nevertheless, he leaned in conspiratorially. “Of Corona,” he finished.

Celestia blinked a few times. “Corona?” she asked. “Who, prithee, is Corona?”

The unicorn looked surprised. “Ah,” he said after a moment, realizing. “Thou art foreign, of course…”

“It is a strange thing to explain…” Cartasole stated. The unicorn glared at him, but Cartasole pressed on. “The ponies of this land do not believe thee to be trapped in the sun at all! It is as though they knowest of thy return!”

“Thee?” The unicorn asked.

“Ah-ha!” Celestia laughed nervously, sticking a hoof out and into Cartasole’s mouth. “His state of inebriation is apparent to me now, good sir!”

The unicorn looked between Cartasole and Celestia, and his eyes narrowed. “I knew it,” he said in a low voice, dropping the polite tone and regal speech patterns he had been maintaining. “I knew it! Yer manners are all well and good, but yer heart is black with greed!”

“What?” Celestia asked.

“Yer one of them impersonators!” the unicorn exclaimed, backing away several steps. “Hasn’t her majesty suffered enough?”

“I – ”

“No!” the unicorn said, turning around and using his hind hooves to kick dirt at Celestia and Cartasole. The alicorn managed to leap back and avoid it, but the pegasus was somewhat less nimble. The unicorn didn’t seem to care much, however. “I wash my hooves of ya. I do not want yer money! And if I ever see either of ya around my establishment again, I’ll call the guard!”

Celestia stared, eyes wide at the treatment she had just received. She was the princess Celestia! She should not have been treated in such a way by a commoner! She felt rage gripping her heart, the rage of an immortal alicorn, a Princess, reborn! “When I am Princess again,” she exclaimed, “thou shalt regret thy actions! I will visit ruination upon thy business! I shall…I shall give it a poor review and none shall wish to dine here!”

The unicorn stumbled at that, turning around at the proclomation - but not in worry, as Celestia had first believed. “Seriously?” he asked. “Yer trying to convince me that yer Corona, and the worst ya can threaten’ is a bad review?”

Celestia blinked at that. “Wh…what could be worse from thy princess?” she asked.

“The last one I threw out threatened to burn the place down.”

“That’s horrible!” Celestia exclaimed.

The unicorn’s eyes had narrowed to slits. “Ya need practice,” he said, before heading back inside.

2. In Wrath

“Maestà, mi dispiace per – ”

“Equestrian, Cartasole,” Celestia requested, as the two walked through the mostly-empty streets of Canterlot, towards the Royal Palace. “I must practice the language as much as possible.”

Cartasole bowed his head. “Mi dis – I am sorry, Majesty,” he said.

Celestia stopped, looking down at her retainer. “Further, what did the proprietor of that inn mean when he referred to thee as an inebriate? I have never known thee to drink more than thy share.”

“I apologize, Majesty…I have had a…difficult time since arriving.”

Celestia frowned. “Tell me,” she asked, voice consoling. Cartasole had been her loyal retainer ever since she had first been brought to Roam, gifted to her by the ruling Exarch of her homeland; by this point, she thought of him as no mere indentured servant, but as a trusted confidant and friend, almost a family member.

The brown pegasus looked to his Majesty, then let out a long sigh. “I arrived a week ago, Majesty,” he explained. This made sense, despite his setting out just under a month ago: he was, unlike Celestia, just a normal pegasus, and so could not power-fly through Equestria as Celestia had. “Spending lires had been growing more and more difficult the closer I came to Canterlot, but I had foreseen the problem and so had, in a small town called Manehattan, traded as many of my lires as they would take for material goods that I might barter – spices, mostly, since they would be easiest to carry.”

Celestia inclined her head at that. “I see…so what, then, is the problem? If thou were so insightful, how couldst thou have run up a debt?”

Cartasole stared intently at his hooves, wings twitching a little in agitation. “I fear I am not much of a trader,” he admitted. “What the merchants and vendors of Canterlot demand for their services is…substantial, and they could not be negotiated with, on account of the city being so empty. They are desperate for business, Majesty.”

Celestia pursed her lips as she considered. “I can scarcely believe the impact I had upon the ponies of Canterlot,” she remarked in a low voice, closing her eyes.

“That is not thy fault, Majesty!” Cartasole tried to console, stepping closer to Celestia as he did so. “That is, I suspect it has as much to do with Princess Luna’s abandoning the throne for as long as she did. With the Princess wandering Equestria, the noble Houses had little reason to reside in Canterlot – and without the nobility, the merchants have been leaving.”

Celestia looked up, to the sun that was nearing the zenith of its ascent into the sky. Unlike mortal ponies, she could look upon its majesty without injuring her eyes. “But ‘twas due to my own actions that Luna abandoned Equestria for twelve years,” she noted. “My previous life was, in its end, fraught with madness and cruelty…and so my sister had to cast me into the sun! Is it any wonder that she disappeared for so long?”

Cartasole coughed slightly, putting a hoof to his mouth as he did. “I…I am told that she did not disappear, Majesty…”

Celestia tore her eyes from the burning orb in the sky and looked to her retainer. “No,” she stated firmly, “‘tis likely, and fitting, that she secluded herself in some secret, hidden place that I cannot recall and grieved and mourned her actions.” Celestia’s eyes were somewhat misty, but also wide, as she regarded Cartasole, pressing her front hooves together. “Canst thou even begin to imagine the grief? Her own older sister – wiser, stronger – whom she had known for millennia and more, fallen into fire and hate! Forced to do battle with her – with me – to save the land from the madness that gripped my previous incarnation! And after she wept for a year and a day, no doubt…”

Celestia wasn’t certain, but she thought she saw Cartasole roll his eyes. She harrumphed. “’Tis certainly more likely than the rumor that she wandered Equestria perpetually drunk,” Celestia declared.

“Of course, Majesty,” Cartasole said, as the two began walking towards Canterlot Castle again. Cartasole grimaced. “On that note, Majesty…I believe that thou shalt encounter a…problem…at the Castle.”

Celestia regarded Cartasole. “Impersonators?” she asked. Cartasole nodded. “Tell me of them.”

Cartasole pressed his lips tightly together. “Word of thy return hath spread into Equestria…and I fear that there are ponies who wish to take advantage of Princess Luna.” He looked to his Majesty. “They are ponies claiming to be thee. Trying to claim to Princess Luna that they are Celestia returned…they have come from all over Equestria. Parasites, the lot of them.”

Celestia had suspected as much, given what they had been called – what she had been accused of being. Nevertheless, the confirmation of such made her wings flutter in in agitation beneath her travelling cloak. “Well,” she stated. “I doubt there are very many, at least.”

“We are most pleased that you have at last come to your senses!”

Starlight Shine blinked several times, eyes wide at having just been shouted at for the…thirteenth? Forteenth? He hadn’t wanted to keep track – time today. The lavender-coated, black-maned unicorn rubbed one ear. “Thou hast, thy” he corrected absentmindedly as he did.

“Pardon?” Asked the unicorn mare. He hadn’t been very quiet, so apparently her shouting, trying to imitate the Royal Canterlot Voice, had begun to affect her hearing.

“Nothing, nevermind.”

Her white coat was genuine enough, but a strong scent in the air all but confirmed that she had died her mane the cacophony of colors that it currently was, and she hadn’t even bothered with trying to fake wings, nor hide that she didn’t have any, though she was wearing a garish dress to hide what was no doubt emphatically not a sun-themed cutie mark. She seemed fairly well-fed, so Starlight mentally added her to his list of ‘schemers.’

Would-be schemers, in any event – a real schemer wouldn’t have been so stupid as to make this attempt in the first place. In any event, with her, he now had a total of eight schemers, twelve desperate ponies who were probably only doing this on the off chance of getting sympathy from the Princess, four deranged ponies who actually believed what they were saying, and three ponies who Starlight couldn’t place easily.

Princess Luna’s majordomo looked to a scroll he held in his telekinetic grasp. “Please proceed into the courtyard. Princess Luna will be along presently.”

“Thank you!”

“Thee,” Starlight corrected in a low voice as he hid his grimace, though only until the unicorn mare had strutted past him. He was standing outside the walls of Canterlot Castle, flanked by a pair of royal guards in silver armor who looked stoically straight ahead and, to anypony not familiar with them, betrayed no emotion.

After having lived in Canterlot Castle the past eight years, however, Starlight had learned how to pick out little details – twitches to the eye, slight downcurve to the mouth – that showed that the guards were anything but emotionless right now. Seething would probably have been a better word.

“Right,” he said, closing his eyes and letting his horn glow, casting a basic time-telling spell. “Half an hour, sirs. I think we have enough inside that the Princess can…make her point.”

“Yes, sir,” the two pegasi said at once.

“We will accept no further – ”

“I beg thy pardon?”

Starlight sighed, rolling his eyes. “Yes? What?” he demanded as he turned around, looking at the ponies that had seemed to materialize from nothingness. Not that he was surprised – that description could apply to the entire impersonator plague that was running rampant through Canterlot. There had been several ponies claiming to be lost Celestia ever since she had been banished, of course, but in the past six months the number had increased tenfold, ever since the Cavallian rumor had made its way north.

He composed himself slightly when he saw the ponies that were accosting him. One was a fairly nondescript pegasus stallion, with a brown coat, slightly darker brown mane, and a cutie mark of pair of crossed, unfurling scrolls. The second was more interesting by far: a pink unicorn mare with a mane that was white, purple, and pink, thick and luxurious. Her body was covered by a long, elegantly sewn, white travelling cloak, currently with its hood down, which obscured her cutie mark.

Her bearing, the cut of her mane, and quality of her cloak all said one thing: nobility. Starlight let out a second sigh, this one of relief. “Hail and well met, m’lady,” he said, bowing slightly to her. “Forgive my abruptness, I have been engaged in a trying task all morning.”

The unicorn pony offered a slight smile, and inclined her head. “Yes, I saw…and heard…thy troubles,” she said. Her voice had a strange lilt to it, suggesting her hailing from the southern reaches of Equestria, or perhaps even Cavallia or Zaldia. “But I come to tell thee that thy troubles are at an end! The true reincarnation of Celestia hath arrived!”

Starlight’s smile faltered for just a moment, before he lost the will to keep it up even for a pretty mare and let it drop entirely. “Oh,” he stated. “Great. Brilliant, actually. I am so pleased.”

The unicorn smiled brightly at that, apparently not catching his sarcasm. “So am I!” she declared eagerly.

Starlight observed her declaration with half-lidded eyes. This mare was dressed and cared for too well to be desperate, but seemed too eager to be a schemer. That meant she was his fifth deranged pony. Very deranged. Starlight didn’t know why, but he felt he had to stop her. “M’lady,” he said. “I have twenty-seven ponies all claiming to be Celestia gathered in the castle’s courtyard right now. If I am lucky, they’ve killed each other by now, but that’s neither here nor there. Most of them at least had the good sense to dye their manes or coats so that they were the proper color, or like the proper color.”

The Celestia impersonator blinked, looking to her pegasus companion for a moment before turning back to Starlight. “B-but – ” she began.

“And I suppose that thou art attempting a Cavallian accent to go along with the rumors? Thou couldst be trying harder.”

The unicorn seemed shocked. “But I am Cavallian!” she declared.

“No, non lo siente,” Starlight stated.

“Sì, lo sono!” the unicorn countered with a stamp of her hoof.

“Non è possibile.”

“Il cavalliano è la mia lingua madre. Io sono cresciuta là. E la mia pronuncia è molto migliore della tua.” She raised a brow in challenge.

Starlight raised one brow in return, accepting defeat in this matter. “Alright,” he said, “thou may be from Cavallia after all. But I must ask wherefore thou thinkest thou art Celestia’s ‘reincarnation.’” He paused a moment. “She is not dead, thou realize?”

The Celestia impersonator considered. From beneath her cloak, there was a ruffling, and a pair of long, swan-like wings extended and stretched out, covered in pink feathers that matched her coat. As she spread her wings, a triumphant smile filled her face.

Starlight was nonplussed. “It is a difficult spell,” he said, “but hardly an unknown one. How to create wings, that is.” He looked to the pegasus guards on either side of him. “No offense intended, good sirs, a unicorn with wings is still a little more than a flying brick next to a true pegasus.”

The guards reacted just slightly, a slight tugging at their mouths that suggested that they were repressing knowing smirks. The pegasus that had accompanied this latest impersonator looked incensed. The Celestia impersonator, meanwhile, flapped her wings several times in annoyance. “These are not the results of a mere spell!” She insisted. “Cast any detection magic thou likest upon me! Thou shalt find nothing!”

Starlight indulged her delusion, horn glowing lavender – and was surprised to find that she was, once again, entirely truthful. The wings she even now stretched and unstretched were not magical constructs, but instead were quite real. Pegasus-unicorns, with functioning horns and working, full-sized wings, were extremely rare, universally sterile hybrids between the tribes – rare, but not unheard of. In fact, one was in the courtyard right now, also claiming to be Celestia. He, at least, had the right coat color – although not the right gender, but then Starlight supposed that there were some lines even the most dedicated charlatan would not be willing to cross.

Starlight sighed. “Very well,” he said. “Thou may enter. Princess Luna shall be…” he trailed off as he thought. “Shall be determining her true sister from amongst all those who make the claim half an hour hence. Thy companion must also accompany thee.”

The impersonator stood tall. “Of course. Wherever I go, Cartasole follows.”

“How very loyal,” the majordomo of Luna drolled. He watched as the two passed on through the gates – the pegasus-unicorn looking up at them in wonder – before turning to the guards once again. “No more,” he declared firmly. “Do not acknowledge any further impersonators, ever again. Luna herself commands this.”

The two guards nodded in understanding. Starlight let out another sigh as he trotted into Canterlot Castle himself, heading not to the courtyard, but instead to the castle itself, looking for his Princess.

Logic dictated that an immortal being, so ancient that even she did not know precisely how old she was, should not have been a being of great emotion. As an immortal, Luna should have known that all things pass in time, and that time was the thing that she had in great abundance; in a sense, every day she woke up with her whole life still ahead of her. It was not worth getting emotional over the transitory, the temporary, the mortal, logic informed her.

These past few decades, however, had not been a time where logic reigned particularly strongly.

Luna realized she was sneering, and stopped herself with a deliberate act of will as she gazed down at the courtyard from one of the shorter towers of Canterlot, which housed the royal library. Beneath her, more than two dozen ponies had gathered with the impression that she was a fool and with the intention of deceiving her.

Where did they even get the idea that they could? Luna had known Celestia her whole life. Her older sister had been the one constant throughout the countless millennia. Nations rose and fell, monsters came and went, but Celestia was as dependable as…

…had been as dependable as…

Luna’s wings twitched. In her mind, she saw Celestia: tall, regal, mane and tail an animate, pastel rainbow that flowed like water, kind, whole eyes…and as was inevitable, she watched as her memory of Celestia was transformed, mane and tail alighting in flame, eyes glowing pure white with power, face twisting into a look of hate and rage.

“I am Celestia!” proclaimed the vision in Luna’s mind. “I am the Sun!”

Luna closed her eyes tightly. She had not seen how protecting Equestria had begun to wear upon her sister. The constant – to an immortal, in any event – battles against the forces that would destroy the land and corrupt their pony subjects had eroded Celestia’s sanity as surely as water eroded a seaside cliff. And Luna had not seen it. If even Luna had not been able to notice what was happening to Celestia, before it was too late – could the ponies in the courtyard below really be blamed for thinking they could fool her?

As if to answer, a shouting match began between two of the impersonators, each trying to prove that they were the true Celestia due to having louder voices. In a moment, Luna decided two things – one, having been more-or-less on the receiving end of too many ponies trying to duplicate the Royal Canterlot Voice, she was no longer as enamored of it as she once was; and two, yes, they could still be blamed.

And, therefore, punished.

Luna heard the door to the library open behind her, and a familiar quartet of hoof-steps approach her. “Majesty,” Starlight said as a greeting as he approached, and bowed. She nodded immediately, giving him leave to stand. “We have twenty-eight impersonators below, Majesty."

Luna turned to face Starlight Shine, appraising him. He looked – concerned. “Thank thee, Starlight,” she said, beginning to trot away.

Starlight Shine followed his princess, hoof-steps betraying worry. “If I might be so bold, Majesty,” he began, “thou hast not explained what thou intendest to do with the rabble.”

“I am still deciding,” Luna stated as they walked through the halls of Canterlot. Once, the palace walls had been adorned in gold. That gold, however, was even still being stripped away. Celestia had, in the end, begun covering everything she claimed as her own in gold, even going so far as to demand her courtiers and her staff at the castle wear golden paint. It had been her symbol – and the events of twenty years ago had been enough to drive all of Canterlot, and gradually all of Equestria, to shun the metal, causing its value to drop catastrophically.

That had done wonders for the Equestrian economy. Had Luna been in Canterlot, she might have taken steps to prevent it, but as it stood she had been elsewhere for twelve years following her battle with her sister for the soul of Equestria. Elsewhere…actually, for that matter, probably everywhere in Equestria. And occasionally even beyond. Two trips outside of Equestria stood out in particular…

Luna shook her head, shoving both recollections from her mind – she did not need to recall either journey, not now. She realized that Starlight had said something, and looked to him. “I beg thy pardon?”

“I said that I hope thou dost not do anything permanent,” her majordomo repeated.

Luna grimaced. “Now that what I hope to be the majority are gathered in one place, a permanent solution is precisely what I aim for,” she stated.

“Majesty, thou cannot – ”

Starlight stopped when Luna did, as she put a hoof to his mouth. He stared in surprise at the hoof, eyes travelling its length to look Luna in the eye. “Very poor choice of words,” she pointed out.

“I am Celestia! I am the Sun!”

“Nay! ‘Tis I who art Celestia! Thou are nothing more than an imposter!”

Celestia and Cartasole watched the two impersonators go at each other. Most of the other impersonators had backed off to observe as well. It was like watching a battle for dominance between two primitive beings: they made loud noises (technically words, Celestia supposed, but their attempts at proper Equestrian were all over the place), circled around each other, stomped and scuffed their hooves, charged each other only to pull back at the last moment…

“How undignified,” another impersonator, relatively near to Celestia, said. The courtyard was more than large enough that most of the Celestia impersonators – and Celestia, herself – could keep to themselves, standing in the shadow of the tall spires of Canterlot Castle itself. Some stood alone; others had companions, much as Celestia did with Cartasole. At least one, in fact, looked like she had brought an entire staff with her, of unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies, who waited on her wing and horn and hoof. That "Celestia" was also easily the most accurate in appearance: white coat, rainbow, animate mane, golden eyes, wings and horn. Of course, the wings were magical creations, a basic cantrip revealed, and the wrong shape; the mane and tail, too, were relatively easy to duplicate if one knew the spell. She was also only about two-thirds as tall as a normal adult mare, never mind Celestia herself, and certainly forgetting Celestia’s previous incarnation, who had been nearly twice as tall as many stallions, if the stories were true.

Cartasole was scowling. “Thou should get involved, Majesty,” he said to her. “Break up this fight and send these imposters galloping!”

Celestia shook her head. “I would gain little,” she reasoned. “Most are too trapped in their own delusions. When Luna sees me, she shall know the truth.”

Cartasole shifted in place, his scowl shifting to a grimace. “I hope so, Majesty.”

Celestia looked to Cartasole. “Thou doubtest me?” she asked.

The brown pegasus looked to his Majesty. “I do not doubt that thy horn and wings are genuine. That thou art an alicorn. But…as that unicorn pointed out, Majesty…Celestia is not dead. So how couldst thou be her reincarnation?”

Celestia offered a gentle smile. “There are two possibilities,” she said simply. “The first is that I am the incarnation of all that was good in Celestia. All that she was before she fell to fire and hate. This is what the doci who examined me after my wings and horn manifested believes, what the cardinal he took me to believes, and what the Exarch himself believes. It is what I believe.”

She looked back to the fighting impersonators. “The other possibility is that I am not. I do not believe that – but it is a possibility. Faith must never be blind.” Her ear twitched as she heard a noise, and she looked to the massive doorway that lead into the castle itself. It had opened, and coming from it were four ponies. Two were Night Guards, unicorns both, and they were the first to exit; one was the lavender unicorn from the gate, likely, Celestia reasoned, the majordomo of Canterlot Castle…

And Celestia’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of the final pony.

She was tall, taller than anypony Celestia had ever seen – taller than Celestia, herself, and she was already about the equal of most stallions. Her coat was a deep, midnight blue, her mane and tail both animate magic rather than hair, sparkling and flowing like a running river that had caught the image of the night sky. She was adorned in pale blue regalia, shoes and a chest-plate, as well as a black crown set atop her regal head. Her horn was longer than any normal unicorn’s, while her wings were shaped differently from those of any pegasus – but they were, emphatically, real.

And if any doubt could have possibly lingered as to who she was, on her flanks was a cutie mark of a black, nebulous sky, but imposed over that sky was a brilliant white, crescent moon.

“Luna,” Celestia breathed, beginning to trot forward to her sister – but she had not advanced a single pace before every impersonator in the crowd charged the princess.

“Luna!”

“Sister!”

“Take these vile impersonators away from us! I am Celestia!”

“No, I am!”

“I am Celestia! I am – ”

“I am Celestia!”

“You’re a stallion!”

“Silence! Reincarnation may have changed my – ”

“Impersonators – ”

“Fakes – ”

“Luna – ”

“Princess – ”

The impersonators had managed to close within a scant few yards of Luna before the horns of the Night Guard glowed, as did the majordomo’s, erecting shields to protect their charge, then shoving those shields forward, knocking the impersonators away. Celestia grimaced at the sight as the wall of impersonators became a tangled mess of legs and false wings – some of which were destroyed or partially destroyed by the rebuke.

About half of the impersonators had the good sense to quiet themselves. The remaining half only redoubled their efforts. As Celestia watched, Luna regarded them all with what was, for a moment, a lack of emotion – but her expression swiftly began to turn into contempt. The Princess of the Night glanced upwards, and saw that the sun was directly overhead. It was midday.

She beat her wings – once – and was instantly lifted into the air, spreading her forehooves wide. Celestia’s horn tingled as she felt magic like she had never felt before begin to work. Above Canterlot, the skies began to darken, as thick, black clouds made their way across the sky and Luna’s eyes began to glow white with power. That was enough to shut up the remaining impersonators, who watched in terrified silence as Luna bent the forces of nature to her whim.

The clouds, by now, had completely obscured the sun, and yet continued to gather. Lightning and thunder crackled amongst them as they swirled overhead.

“Miserable worms,” Luna spat. Her voice was loud, loud enough that everypony in the courtyard, Celestia included, put their hooves to their ears in shock at its volume. They felt the voice – or, it sounded more like, voices, a chorus of them, one for every star in the sky and all speaking in unison – more than heard it as Luna pressed on. “Upstart foals! I am ancient beyond your ken! Before your eldest ancestors were, I AM. And my sister was older still!”

The alicorn in wrath was standing on thin air as though it were solid ground as she regarded the ponies beneath her. “I knew Celestia from before the wheel and the flame! Do you really believe, could you possibly be so stupid as to think, that I would not see through your lies and your deceptions?”

“B-but – ” one of the impersonators tried, “but I – ”

“Silence!” Luna commanded, as lightning arched behind her. By now, the constant lightning and the terrible glow of Luna’s eyes were the only illumination over Canterlot. “Our patience has run its course. This Cavallian rumor shall be heeded no more. Celestia is gone! She fell into fire and hate and so I had no choice but to banish her, forever, into the heart of the sun! There is no possibility of escape – and no possibility that any of you are her reincarnation! You insult Equestria, you insult the Crown, and you insult me, by pretending otherwise!”

Celestia stood tall and firm as she gazed at her sister. Cartasole was at her side, leaning against the terrible wind that Luna’s voice created; he would have likely been bowled over if not for Celestia’s presence, one of her own wings wrapped tightly around him that he might continue standing. It was yet more proof of her true heritage that she could withstand the power of an alicorn in wrath.

That was, until Luna brought her two front hooves together. There was a deafening crack that forced even Celestia to the ground – she could only imagine the effect it had on the impersonators – and quite suddenly, the clouds came apart, bursting into rain water in an instant that fell at once onto Canterlot below. Luna fell with it, landing easily on all four hooves without even bending her knees or hocks more than an inch.

Now thoroughly soaked, the impersonators, and Celestia, herself, stood. Luna regarded them as a single group, eyes still glowing white. “My majordomo,” she said, her voice loud, but no longer bringing with it quite as strong a gust with every word spoken, “hath stated that I cannot enact a permanent solution to end your insult. I have informed him that his choice of words was very, very poor. I have battled demons. I have slain dragons. I have stood tall against Tirek, against Grogar, against the Smooze – against Corona, the mare that my sister became. I am more than capable of ending your insults!”

Luna’s wings were spread wide, and her horn was glowing. The impersonators were, by now, finally realizing the terror that they had unleashed, and were backing away. Celestia soon found herself surrounded by them, while she planted herself firmly between Luna and Cartasole. “Remain behind me,” she instructed her retainer.

“Majesty – ” Cartasole began.

“Do not move,” she insisted, wings spread wide as she prepared to try and stop her sister, who apparently intended to annihilate them all –

The flash and effervescent wave from Luna’s horn came almost faster than Celestia could react. Her own horn glowed reflexively as she put up a shield in front of her, as strong as she could manage – but found it unnecessary, as the midnight-hued burst of magic passed harmlessly over all the impersonators, and over her shield. Whatever Luna had done, it was not intended for them…

…it was intended for the Night Guards that had surrounded them, invisible before Luna's spell revealed them to the gathered impersonators.

Celestia’s eyes widened. The wall surrounded the courtyard bristled with earth ponies and unicorns, all clad in the silvery armor of the Night Guard, their eyes yellow and slitted like those of a dragon, and their coats darkened to gray, thanks to enchantments woven over them by the Princess of the Night. The earth ponies were taller and stronger thanks to those same enchantments, whilst the horns of the unicorns seemed to be almost edged as well as pointed. The air over their heads, meanwhile, swarmed with pegasi, who in addition to the darkened coats and slitted eyes, sported wings that had been transformed to appear bat-like rather than bird-like. The goal was to make them as intimidating-looking as possible, and the enchantments easily succeeded in that regard. There were also more than a hundred Night Guard in total.

“You are under arrest,” Luna stated, “for insulting the Crown! You will spend the next six months in a dungeon outside of Canterlot, contemplating your actions! Further, you are banished from Canterlot! And if I ever lay eyes upon any of you again within the walls of this city, I shall show you why it is that ponies fear the Night!”

With that, Luna turned around, heading back to the castle along with her majordomo, as the Night Guard descended, while the impersonators panicked, all of them trying to run in every direction at once. The result was, once again, a tangled mess of legs and wings, none of them getting anywhere.

Celestia turned to Cartasole. “Do not resist arrest,” she instructed. “I must go to Luna! If I can convince her of the truth then I can have thee released without effort!”

Cartasole nodded once, and Celestia was off, hoping that the Night Guard would see that her retainer was giving in without a fight. She almost instantly had her own problems, however – several Night Guard pegasi descended upon her. With a cry and a shove of her wings, she threw them off, then launched herself forwards, towards Luna. An earth pony Night Guard got in her way; she grunted and ran into him, using her shoulder to shove him aside without slowing down much. Two unicorn Night Guards were next, their horns glowing as their telekinesis reached out to her, but she responded with her own magic, a quick telekinetic burst to their horns that disrupted their concentration.

“Luna!” she cried as she approached, with only Luna’s majordomo now standing between her and the alicorn. “Sister!”

Luna paused in her trot back to the castle. Her majordomo had been standing ready to defend her, but at her stopping, his horn lost its glow, as Luna’s took up one of its own, wings spread wide and quivering with barely contained anger.

“For the final time,” Luna spat, “Thou! ART!” Luna turned around. “NOOAAAaaaaaaaaa…”

Celestia had paused in her charge at the sight of such pure, unbridled rage on Luna’s face – but the expression dropped quite suddenly as the blue alicorn looked at the pink one, the final word of her proclamation being lost as Luna’s mouth hung open, eyes wide.

The sound – and sight – of the Princess frozen in shock was enough to make the Night Guard and impersonators both pause in their very one-sided battle. Silence, rather than Luna, reigned over Equestria as the Princess of the Night stared. Celestia shifted uncomfortably. “H…hail, and…and well met, sister!” she said, forcing a smile to her face. “It is I! Celestia!”

Luna’s majordomo took several steps forward, horn glowing. “Guards!” he called. “Seize the imposter – ”

Several Night Guards approached Celestia, the unicorns amongst with horns glowing, but Luna, at last, found the will to move her muscles and mouth. “N-no! Nay!” she exclaimed. “Nopony is to lay a hoof upon this one! I rescind my arrest order for her!”

Celestia’s smile became a little more genuine, before dropping as she remembered the purpose of her mad charge. “I have a retainer, Cartasole, a brown pegasus stallion with a cutie mark of two crossed scrolls.”

Luna looked at Celestia as though she had just told her the least interesting fact in the universe. Nevertheless, after a moment, she looked to her Night Guards. “Bring him forward, let him stay with his mistress.”

“And the rest, Majesty?” One of the Night Guards asked.

Luna scowled. “As before,” she stated, some of her previous anger creeping back into her voice. She looked to her majordomo. “I…set her up in guest quarters, the finest in the castle. See to whatever she desires.”

Luna’s majordomo frowned. “Majesty, I must – ”

“See to it!” Luna interrupted, stomping her hoof. “I…I have matters that I must attend to.” Before Celestia’s eyes, Luna seemed to dissolve, coming apart into a nebulous, sparkling blue mist. The mist moved of its own accord, shooting into the castle in moments, passing beyond sight.

Luna’s majordomo regarded his mistresses’ retreat, before turning to look Celestia up and down. He was scowling deeply even as Cartasole was brought to Celestia’s side – looking, thankfully, no worse for wear – and the Night Guard resumed arresting the impersonators, a process that was going much more smoothly after the surreal interruption that had just occurred.

“Very well,” he said, doing absolutely nothing to hide his distaste for the situation. “if thou wouldst come with me…”

3. Wine

Celestia let out a slight gasp at the sight of the chambers that she had been led to. The marble and granite walls of this guest quarter had been covered by elegant tapestries, hiding their cold stone behind intricate, woven patterns, while the floor was covered with a carpet so thick that she was almost surprised that she was not given a machete to help her pass through. The ceiling overhead had been painted deep blue and was covered with swirls in yellow and gold of various sizes, suggesting brilliantly glowing stars. The room had its own fireplace, which was already alight as Celestia entered.

Most impressive of all was the bed; it was ovular in shape and easily large enough to accommodate several ponies of Celestia’s size, and its sheets looked like they were woven from silk. Folded elegantly at the end of the bed were additional sheets and a comforter, though she doubted that they would be necessary given that it was late spring.

Celestia turned to regard Luna’s majordomo, as Cartasole entered and had a chance to marvel at the room himself. “I thank thee,” she said, offering a gracious bow. “And I apologize, I do not remember thy name.”

“That would be because I have not given it,” the majordomo replied, eyes still half-lidded.

Celestia blinked. “I see no cause for thy hostility.”

“Oh?” the majordomo asked. He let silence linger for a moment before turning around. “I must attend the Princess now. Good day.” In a moment, he was gone, trotting off through the halls of Canterlot. Celestia had no idea that Equestrian was so versatile a language that the phrase good day could come across as an insult.

Celestia watched him go for a moment, before closing the door to her room and turning around, taking it all in once again, not just the room, but the situation, the fact that she was in the castle, Luna’s reaction upon seeing her…

…she was not even conscious of the fact that she was on the bed, prancing in place upon its mattress and bouncing in joy, until she nearly hit her horn on the ceiling above. A squeal of delight escaped her throat, not that she tried particularly hard to keep it in. “Sono qui!” she called, forgetting her Equestrian for the moment. “Sono qui sono qui sono qui! Luna mi ha creduto ed ora sono nel Castello di Canterlot!”

Celestia let out a long sigh as she stopped bouncing and just sank onto the bed, feeling its sheets glide beneath her hooves and her head. It felt right, to be surrounded by such luxury. It was what a princess deserved. Celestia supposed it was a bit spoiled of her to think so, but what was the point of being royalty reborn if she couldn’t indulge in it every now and then?

Especially the now part.

Cartasole watched her majesty with an amused chuckle. “What shall be thy first decree?” he asked idly.

Celestia opened one eye, smiling at Cartasole from the bed. “No more peas!” she proclaimed without hesitation. “When the Exarch first told me who I was, that I would be Princess one day, I decided then and there that my first decree would be that I would never again have to eat peas.” She paused a moment in thought. “Well…actually, it was to destroy every pea farm in Cavallia and Equestria. But I have thought about that since, and I suppose that’s not very fair to the good pea farmers of the world. But I shall not eat peas, ever again.”

Cartasole chuckled at her majesty’s proclamation, looking around. “I am surprised that Luna does not wish to speak to thee immediately.”

Celestia sat up on the bed, shaking her head. “’Tis understandable. She needs time. After all, I have been preparing for this day for nearly a decade, but she hast had no warning – and further, hast had ponies trying to trick and deceive her.” Celestia nodded sagely. “No doubt she be now in her chambers, mulling the information and deciding what to do with it, how to react. She needs time, and she may have as much as she needs!

“Now,” Celestia said, smiling to Cartasole. “Seek thee out the finest wine thou canst acquire, please. Princess Luna said that I was to have whatever I desired, and I desire a celebration!”

The Princess regarded the pony before her with eyes that had seen countless moonrises. She scuffed a hoof that had lain low demons and dragons and creatures far more terrible than either. The stars themselves aligned at the command of the Shepherd of the Moon, and she turned the voice that spoke those commands upon the earth pony mare who stood between her and her destination. “Move,” she commanded.

“N-nay, Princess,” the earth pony – not even a guard, but rather a cook, with a green coat, purple mane, and a ladybug cutie mark – said, keeping her hooves planted firmly on the ground and remaining between the Princess and her goal. This proved her to be, quite possibly, the bravest pony in Equestria, or perhaps even the world, for she dared stand between the eldest alicorn remaining on the planet and that alicorn’s goal: the wine cellar of Canterlot Castle.

Luna leaned forward a little. “By my royal command, thou shalt remove thyself from my sight!” she ordered.

The earth pony – her name was Bitta Luck – swallowed. She and the Princess were standing in a narrow hallway, door to the wine cellar behind Bitta Luck, and stairs leading up to the Castle behind Luna. The hallway was lit by candles set into sconces, but the majority of those were behind the Princess, and Luna’s own body and slightly flared wings obscured most of the light, casting her face in shadow. “B-by thy royal command,” Bitta Luck said, “I…I must remain.”

At the sound of the earth pony’s words, the Princess performed a very un-royal action: she pouted. “I rescind that order,” she decreed.

“By the same command, it m-must never be rescinded,” the earth pony said. “B-begging thy pardon, Majesty, b-but thy decree that thou were to be restricted to no more than a single goblet, a-and only at formal gatherings.”

“I remember my own decree, thank thee very much,” Luna responded blithely, scuffing her hoof once more. “But my nerves are shot right now and I need a tonic.”

“The Royal Apothecary, then,” a voice suggested. Luna visibly sagged as Starlight Shine clambered down the steps behind Luna, approaching the Princess and bowing. Bitta Luck notably relaxed at the sight of the majordomo. “If I might be so bold, Majesty, I am certain that Green Charm would be far better at creating a tonic for what ails thee than any vitner.”

“Thou wouldst not say such things if thou had ever tasted Old Unicorn conditum paradoxum,” Luna mumbled under her breath.

“Pardon, Majesty?”

“I said,” Luna stated, turning to regard her majordomo, “that I have gazed upon this world since time immemorial. I know what I need to steady my nerves, and it lies beyond that door,” she pointed at the wooden door that Bitta Luck guarded beyond reason. The earth pony flinched at her gesture, despite Luna’s outstretched hoof being several feet from Bitta Luck’s muzzle.

Starlight regarded his princess coolly for a moment. “With all due respect and deference, Majesty,” he said, “if thou really desired wine, we both know that poor Bitta Luck here could not impair thy progress through that door in the slightest.”

The Princess and her majordomo had a staring match for several moments, before Luna’s horn glowed slightly, and her body broke apart into starry mist that flowed away, past Bitta Luck – who cried out in surprise – and through the cracks in the door’s frame, into the wine cellar. Starlight let out an immense sigh, as he looked to Bitta Luck. “Excellent attempt, goodlady. Thou canst return to thy normal duties now.”

“F-forgive me, I tried, I – ”

“Oh, calm down,” Starlight interrupted the pony’s tirade, before it could begin. “Thou might as well have tried to align the stars. Which I am about to attempt, incidentally, so wish me luck.” The ghost of a smile appeared on Bitta Luck’s face at that, and she bowed slightly as the majordomo made his way to the door and opened it, heading into the wine cellar.

The cellar was dark, of course, but it was a simple enough matter for Starlight Shine to set his horn alight, casting a violet glow across the chamber. It was large, he knew, not that this was easy to discern given that all sight was obscured by rows upon rows of casks containing the finest wine from across Equestria. Most of the wine was quite old, predating Celestia’s fall and the twelve-year virtual abandonment of Canterlot Castle by her sister, but the wine was well protected against degradation by a combination of the wine casks themselves and lingering enchantments meant to preserve the wine inside against just about anything.

One major exception being, of course, a determined alicorn.

Starlight wandered through the wine cellar, looking around as he did so. Canterlot was not often host to the grand gatherings of nobles that it had once been, so the Princess had quite a glut of choices for her palette down here. Still, he was able to find her before too long, standing in front of a particularly large cask of wine from Califurlong, two conjured goblets held in her telekinetic grasp. She had just finished pouring out the second one as Starlight arrived, and she turned around as he stopped trotting.

“Majesty, I am here to stop you,” the unicorn informed the alicorn.

In response, the alicorn completely drained the contents of her goblet, some of the wine dribbling down her chin as she did so. Starlight could do little but watch impassively as she finished and regarded her majordomo with an arch look. “Thou hast failed in thy quest,” she said, then held forward the other goblet even as she refilled her own. “Thou might as well drink with me and mourn thy failure.”

Starlight considered a moment, then decided that her majesty was correct. He grasped the offered goblet of wine with his own telekinesis, bringing it to his muzzle and taking in the aroma before taking a considerably more measured drink from it. Even as he did, Luna brought her own goblet to her lips, and surprised Starlight by also refraining from inhaling the beverage.

“There are degrees of success, Majesty,” Starlight said. “Dost thou intend to get drunk?”

“I wish to,” Luna said, absolutely seriously as she considered the wine in front of her. Behind her, however, the cask sealed itself. “But no. I shall not.”

“Then I count this as at least a partial success, Majesty.”

“To success, then,” Luna said, raising her goblet. Starlight did likewise, and each took another drink.

As the two finished, Luna regarded Starlight, this time with concern written all over her eternally-youthful face. “Am I walking down my sister’s path?” she asked.

Starlight considered his Princess, pressing his lips tightly together. “What dost thou mean, Majesty?” he asked.

Luna stared at her drink. “The impersonators,” she answered. “Is it right, what I did? No crime was committed, none that I know of. I suppose ‘tis possible that one cruel law of my sister’s or another yet lingers in our books, but I did not consider that. I felt insulted, I felt angry, and so I lashed out. I darkened the sky in as sure a display of power as anything Celes…as anything Corona did.”

Starlight grimaced. Luna insisted that Celestia was long gone, that the mare she had banished into the heart of the sun was only a twisted reflection called Corona, a name pulled from the elder alicorn’s attempt to crown herself as the high Queen of all Equestria, subservient to nopony and controlling everypony, even as all of Equestria rose against her when Luna had stolen the Elements of Harmony from her.

Starlight knew, however, that it was a psychological crutch – and attempt on Luna’s part to rationalize what she did to herself, to try and forgive herself sending her sister away forever. He severely hoped that Luna’s self-imposed delusion would not catch on amongst the populace, nor remain with her for long.

“Some of those ponies wished to take advantage of me for wealth and power,” Luna continued. “No doubt they still imagine me the inebriate I was for twelve years…easily fooled, at least long enough to get to Canterlot’s treasure vaults. But some of those ponies were merely desperate…Equestria has become a poor nation, and it is my fault, because I abandoned her for so long when she needed me most. The desperate ponies perhaps only wished for a warm roof over their heads, a full meal…

“And then there were the last. The disturbed ponies. The ones who truly believed themselves to be Celestia…many of them were manipulated by others, the delusions played into. Some simply reached them on their own.” She regarded Starlight with a pained expression. “I have seen insanity. I have seen what delusion can drive a pony to do, and I know – I know – that they do not mean to harm. They simply do not understand what they are doing.

“But did I consider any of that? No. I summoned blackness and thunder and lightning and made them fear the Night. I blamed them for faults that I, directly or indirectly, allowed. And have had them all thrown in dungeons like common criminals.” Luna paused a moment in thought, taking the time to sip her wine once more. “I can only imagine the fear that my lightning storm and my voice caused the rest of Canterlot…”

Luna looked to Starlight. “So, Starlight Shine. Answer me: am I walking down the same path that transformed my sister into Corona?”

“No,” Starlight answered immediately.

Luna seemed taken aback, as though she had expected – wanted – to be told that she was becoming some kind of black twin to Celestia in her final years. “Think thee carefully on this matter, Starlight.”

“I have, Majesty,” Starlight said. “Thou art no counterpart to the Tyrant Sun, no…no Nightmare Moon, if thou wouldst allow me to coin a phrase. That should be obvious to anypony and everypony who speaks to thee.”

“But the impersonators…”

“Were attempting to deceive thee,” Starlight said. “I cannot speak as to whether there are specific laws against insulting the Crown. But there are laws against fraud, which the desperate and deceptive ponies who were impersonating thy sister were most certainly attempting. Thou art entirely justified, there is full legal recourse.”

Luna looked unconvinced. “And the mad ones?”

“They are insane. They believe themselves to be Celestia. Perhaps prison is not where they belong, but certainly neither should they be out and about on the street. They could hurt themselves, or others. Thou hast six months to decide how to deal with them.”

“And the desperate? The ones who merely wanted somewhere warm to sleep?”

“Dungeons are warm, or can be . Meals are regular there. Crime is still crime, Majesty, regardless of the reasons – but if it troubles thee so, you once more have some months to come up with a solution, and until then the ponies you worry for are better off. This, finally, leaves only the ones who wished to intentionally deceive thee, when they had no reason for it. Charlatan tricksters such as they belong in prison.”

“After a fair trial,” Luna lamented, taking another swig of wine. “All these ponies require a fair trial. They shall be held and charged, but trials must be properly carried out. I charge thee to arrange this, Starlight.”

Starlight stared at Luna, rather than agreeing. The alicorn stared back, her look of concern over the course of a fair legal process dropping as she saw the look on Starlight’s face. “Don’t ask – ” she began.

“Why is there a winged unicorn in Canterlot Castle?” Starlight asked, ignoring her majesty’s wishes.

Luna ground her teeth together as she considered the question. “She is not a winged unicorn,” she answered.

“Oh?” Starlight asked, brow raising slightly. “A true unicorn, then? I must say, Majesty, that she is an exceptional spellcaster, then; even I cannot detect the magic creating her wings.” He considered. “I think I understand thee now. Such a powerful sorceress should be properly trained and nurtured – ”

“She is not a unicorn.”

Starlight blinked at that, staring at Luna. The alicorn downed what remained of her wine, considered the empty goblet, and turned back to the cask, opening it once more and pouring herself a fresh goblet. When she turned around, she found herself treated to the rare sight of Starlight’s mouth hanging open in utter shock. It comforted Luna to know that it was still possible to surprise her fairly cynical majordomo.

“Sh…bu….wh…” he stammered, setting his goblet down on the ground less he drop it in shock as the gears turned in his head, and he considered the possibilities that lay before him, or at least attempted to.

Luna grimaced. “She is an alicorn.”

“Impossible.”

“Having seen my reflection quite often, Starlight, I must inform thee that I am quite familiar with alicorns. I know one when I see one. She is an alicorn.”

Starlight stood and backed away several paces, looking like he wanted to charge up to the guest room, if only to look at the alicorn with his own eyes once more. “Is she…is she really Celes…who she claims to be?”

Luna opened her mouth to respond – whether positively or negatively, Starlight didn’t know – but then paused. She looked past Starlight, to the rows and rows of casks that were behind him, and the entrance to the wine cellar. A pony was approaching, although his calm gait made it fairly clear that he likely had not heard any of the conversation that had just gone on between Luna and Starlight. As he reached the periphery of Starlight’s horn-light, Luna saw that it was the brown-coated retainer of the alicorn from before. The pegasus, for his part, dropped to his knees and hocks as soon as he saw the Princess.

“P-Princess Luna!” the retainer exclaimed. “I am sorry, I did not mean to disturb thee!”

Luna walked over to the retainer, looking down at him for a moment. “What brings thee here?”

“My mistress bid me to bring her wine! She wishes to celebrate her arrival in Canterlot!”

Luna nodded, unsurprised, before turning around, focusing on the cask of wine that she had Starlight had been drinking from. A glass bottle materialized from nothingness, and wine began to drift from the cask into the bottle, filling it to capacity before a cork appeared and stoppered the wine. Luna then turned back to the pegasus, putting the bottle down before him. “This is an excellent vintage,” she told the pegasus. “Please bring it to thy mistress with my compliments. I also invite her to join me for the raising of the moon tonight.”

If it was possible, the brown pegasus bowed more before cautiously standing. “O-of course, Your Highness!” he exclaimed. “I am certain that Celestia shall be delighted to attend! With thy leave…” at an affirming nod from Luna, the pegasus picked the bottle up with his teeth, and turned quickly, leaving the wine cellar as fast as his hooves could carry him.

Luna watched him go impassively, before turning around, regarding Starlight, who was still in a state of shock over Luna’s revelation. “When thou art finished,” she said, “please see to arranging those trials, Starlight.”

“Y-yes, Majesty,” the unicorn said absentmindedly, probably more out of reflex then having actually heard his Princess. Luna didn’t wait for him to recover, instead finishing her final goblet of wine and letting herself dissolve into mist, heading to her chambers atop the tallest tower of Canterlot Castle.

4. The Test Begins

“She what?” Celestia demanded of Cartasole, her mouth hanging open at his statement, wings flared wide.

Her retainer’s smile faltered. “I…is this not good news?” he asked.

Celestia had begun to pace back and forth, her face holding a confusing mixture of shock, concern, and delight. “N…nay, 'tis, but…I did not think I would…” she paused, looking to Cartasole. “What does one wear to a moonrise with Luna herself?”

The brown pegasus blinked a few times. “Um,” he said. “I…I expect nothing, Majesty.”

“B-but 'tis a moonrise! With Luna!” Celestia began pacing again. “How many ponies get to experience it or see it? Such an arcane and ancient ritual, raising the moon, the very embodiment of magic, and mystery, and protection, and stars know what – ah! Le stelle! Luna shall string up the stars as well, of course she shall, how could I forget…!” She looked around her room, eyes settling on a tall cabinet that she raced towards. Inside, she found a selection of ornate dresses – none of them sized for a mare of her impressive height. “Sarti!” she cried. “Ho bisogno di sarti! Immediatamente!”

Cartasole had rarely seen Celestia in such a state as she rifled through the dresses. “With respect…” he said, sticking to Equestrian as per her Majesty’s command despite her own slip, “The Princess performs this task, quite literally, every night. I imagine that it be something of a routine for her.”

Celestia spun on Cartasole. “Routine?” she demanded. “Routine? 'Tis the raising of the moon and the stars! Who knows what ancient rituals are involved? No doubt my sister dresses in only the finest of imported silk and the rarest of gems, echoing the beauty of the night…ancient words in a tongue heard by no mortal ears are spoken …”

She went on for some time. Celestia, Cartasole had learned over the years, had an extremely romantic view of what it meant to be Princess, eagerly drinking down all the myths and rumors that had surrounded both Luna and her previous incarnation. Secretly, having had ample opportunity to speak with servants of the Exarch of Cavallia, he suspected that Luna’s job was much as the Exarch’s own – long hours of boring tedium and paperwork, broken up by the occasional financial crisis or bickering noble.

“…and then she shall lower the sun and…and…oh, cazzo!”

Cartasole recoiled at that, actually beating his wings in order to propel himself backwards and into the air, narrowly avoiding the admittedly high ceiling. He felt heat in his face. “P-p-princess!” he exclaimed. “How do you even know that word?”

Celestia had a hoof to her mouth, looking surprised at her own exclamation. It was rare, these days, but every now and then, she slipped – forgetting that she was the Sun reborn and instead talking like the earth pony vinter that she grew up as. Curses were not uncommon words on a vineyard, and she could swear with the best of them if she needed to – but that was not how a Princess was supposed to act.

It was, at least, enough to shock her out of her mild panic, as she looked to Cartasole. “What…what if she expects me to lower the sun?” she asked in a small voice, looking at her flank, still covered by her white travelling cape, which she hadn’t removed.

Her retainer came down from the air, though his feathers were still ruffled at Celestia’s exclamation. “Then…” he pondered, “then…I expect, Majesty, that thou shalt have to lower the sun.”

Celestia looked to Cartasole. “But what if I can’t? What if she thinks…what if I am just another impersonator?” Taking her travelling cape into her teeth, she pulled it off, letting it fall to the floor.

In almost all ways, Celestia knew she had a body to die for. She was as tall as any stallion, but lithe as a mare should be; her wings were strong and graceful, her horn long and sharply pointed at its end. Her coat was immaculate and covered with a healthy sheen, her mane expertly maintained, her fetlocks shorn…

But her flank was bare. Despite being twenty years old, her cutie mark had never manifested – instead, at around the same time that other foals her age had been gaining theirs, she had grown sick for several days, too weak to move and wracked with pain in her back and head – and when those days were over, there had been light and ethereal music, and Celestia instead possessed her wings and horn.

Celestia knew that there were ponies who would have traded their right front legs, never mind their cutie marks, for the chance to become an alicorn. Celestia, instead, could only see it as an embarrassment. Every time she looked to her blank flank, she felt like there was something wrong with her.

She was Celestia. She was the Sun. How could she not have her cutie mark yet?

She looked back to Cartasole. “I…I cannot go before the Princess like this!” she stated, turning back around towards the dresses, trying to find one that seemed appropriate, and wishing that she’d possessed the foresight to bring one from Cavallia that fit her. “I shall look like an…an over-large yearling! No, I won’t hear of it. Please, seek thee out a tailor for me!” she telekinetically pulled out one dress, orange and white in coloration, impossibly complex in weaving, and probably utterly ridiculous to be wearing. “Seek thee out many tailors! I must look perfect for tonight!”

Cartasole let out a slight sigh as he made his way towards the door, but paused before leaving. “Er…” he said. “Majesty…thou realize that any tailors brought here would, of course, see thy lack of a cutie mark.”

Celestia froze, blinking at that. She looked between the dresses, Cartasole, and her flank, before letting out a slight cry of frustration. “Necessary sacrifice!” she exclaimed. “I must not look like a foal before the Princess!”

Many hours and tailors later – who had kept silent about their opinions on Celestia’s bare flank, thankfully – Celestia found herself standing outside of a pair of large, ornately decorated wooden doors near the top of Canterlot’s tallest tower, feeling like a foal. Her dress of choice had ended up being a white and gold affair, one that had clearly not been worn by anypony in a long time. But it covered her flanks, which was her major concern, while also leaving room for her wings – and, she had to admit, while wearing it, she felt a little more…well, regal. She’d had no shortage of fine dresses back in Cavallia, of course, most of them much finer than what she was wearing now, but nevertheless, it felt right.

The wooden doors opened inwards, and Celestia was presented with a large, wide room, hewn from dark marble. The floor of the room was a vast mosaic, but the alicorn couldn’t tell what the picture was of from this angle. The domed ceiling, on the other hand, was instantly recognizable as having been done up to resemble a star chart – but rather than simple stone tiles, each star was represented by some kind of gemstone. Even given the ubiquity of them in the Equestrian soil, there was a fortune on the ceiling, all of it oriented around a single large object that sat in the center: the moon.

There were no candles, torches, glow-gems, or light sources of any kind in the room itself. Instead, a trio of large balconies with no rails – one directly opposite the door into the room, facing north, while the other two were in the east and the west – allowed natural light in, though that light was fading as the sun continued its descent towards the horizon.

Luna wasn’t in sight. Celestia glanced to a guard, and he nodded towards the door, indicating that she should enter. Gritting her teeth, the Sun reborn did so, head held high as she strode into this sanctum, the perfect example of poise and grace and style – at least until the door closed behind her. It didn’t even close loudly, but it nevertheless was enough to make Celestia yelp and jump into the air, wings beating frantically. After a few moments of staring at the treacherous door, she looked down – and at last saw what the mosaic on the floor was.

At first she didn’t recognize it – it was just meaningless shapes of blue and brown and yellow and green – but after staring at it long enough, she looked to the blues and saw water. The brown were mountains, the yellow vast fields, and the green deep forests. She saw lines of red that represented roads, and markings indicating towns and cities. Flying higher, as high as the ceiling would permit, Celestia realized that she was looking down at the largest map she had ever seen – a map of Equestria, and all nearby lands. There was the Griffin Empire in the north – though Celestia had heard that the Emperor of All the Griffs had recently died without heir, which was probably going to fragment the Empire – Celestia’s own Cavallia and her ancient rival state of Zaldia in the southeast; the vast and untamable Everfree Forest dominating the center of the map, bordering on the Sea of Tranquility, its crystal-blue surface marred only by the tiny and haunted island of Tambelon. The west was dominated by the expanse of the Great Desert, broken only by the occasional marker indicating oases around which great camel cities rose in defiance of the sand.

Celestia lowered herself gently to the floor, taking a closer look at the map now that she knew what it was. The detail was exquisite…

Luna suppressed a grimace brought on by long-forgotten memories and feelings of inadequacy as she watched her examining the map of Equestria and beyond, the vast and considerably more detailed (not to mention taking almost half again as long to construct) star chart in the ceiling forgotten. There had been a time, not too long ago from her immortal perspective, when she had felt the night sky and the effort that she put into it every night was being ignored by ponies at large, when she had begun to question if anypony even cared about her or appreciated her beyond her sister. Only a scattered hoof-full of ponies took an interest in the moon and the stars that Luna shepherded – the rest slept.

Of course, that had changed rapidly when Celestia had begun her descent into madness, had gradually become Corona. More and more ponies had begun taking their issues and problems to the Night Court rather than the Day as Celestia had become more unreasonable in her orders and dictums.

That still means that I was merely an alternative, Luna thought morosely. After a few moments, however, she shook her head. That was in the past – fifty years ago and more now. While it did still matter why the ponies had initially come to her, she had been able to strike up true friendships, earn the respect and the love of anypony who came to see her. The Night was no longer a time of necessary sleep, but welcome respite. The darkness wasn’t something to be feared, but rather respected and cherished for protection. And the light of the moon and stars were no longer inadequate stand-ins for the Sun, but rather a gentle alternative to the harsh and unforgiving rays of its tyranny.

None of that truly mattered now, however. A tingling at the base of her horn let her know that the sun was reaching the nadir of its path across the sky – it was time for it to sink beyond the horizon and, more importantly, it was time for Luna to speak to her.

Celestia looked up at the sight of a blue flash. At the western balcony, she saw a wave of blue smoke appear from nothingness, swiftly disappearing in a wind that wasn’t there as it slid over and around the suddenly-present form of Princess Luna Equestris. The reigning monarch of Equestria had her back to Celestia, her eyes closed as her horn glowed dark blue. Cautiously, Celestia moved so that she was looking directly out of the western balcony, and she saw, in the far distance, the sun begin to slide beyond the horizon.

Oh thank the Stars, Celestia thought, relieved enough at not having to set the sun that she forgot to be disappointed about Luna not performing any kind of ritual, nor dressing for the occasion in a garment worth more than the horde of an ancient dragon.

When the sun was just under halfway beyond the horizon, Luna turned, eyes opening and instantly locking on to Celestia’s own. She began walking forward, and Celestia found she had to suppress the urge to bow – or should she be bowing? After all, Luna had not formally recognized her as her sister…she settled instead on being frozen in place and just staring back at the Princess. Luna’s face was a picture-perfect example of neutral as she examined Celestia in detail – and, as she approached and veered off slightly, beginning to circle around Celestia, the pink alicorn realized that she really was being examined, Luna taking in every detail of her face, her wings, her shoe-shod hooves...

Celestia bit her lip as Luna circled her. “H…hello,” she said, feeling stupid even as she did.

Luna paused in her circling of Celestia at that. “Forgive me,” she said at length, sitting back on her haunches. She seemed to consider. “I…I have dealt with imposters for some time. I cannot rule out the possibility that thou art simply extremely skilled at crafting illusions and glamors.”

Celestia shook her head. “Nay. I’ve never had any skill with them.”

“Thou sayest,” Luna said, inclining her head. “Of course, if thou were the sort of pony who wouldst cast such figments, then lying would no doubt be second nature to thee, and so I have no cause to trust any of thy words.”

Celestia stared at Luna as the princess got up, but rather than resume her circling of Celestia, she instead walked over towards the east balcony. The sun was now almost completely set in the distance. “I…I am not lying!” she exclaimed despite herself as she followed Luna. “I am Celestia, reborn!”

Luna closed her eyes as she stopped at the balcony, settling once more onto her haunches in the fading light. “Thou sayest,” she repeated. “But I am very, very old. I have been a trickster in my time – and I have been tricked. That is why thou art here, Cadance, now: that I might judge thee, and confirm thy claims.”

Celestia forgot her indignation. “Cadance?” she asked.

Luna’s eyes opened as she looked to the pink alicorn. “I…have done research into the Cavallian rumors that have drifted this far north. That is the name thy mother granted thee, correct?”

“Nay…Cadenza. Mi Amore Cadenza.” She stood tall and firm. “But no longer. I am Celestia. I am the Sun. And I will pass any tests thou set before me.”

Luna’s mask of impassivity dropped slightly at Celestia’s statement, replaced by…sadness? Memory? Regret? Celestia couldn’t tell – but it was up again within moments as the last of the sun slipped beyond the horizon. For several long moments, Equestria was cloaked in utter blackness.

Then, in the east, there was the faintest of lights, as a single star shot up from beyond the horizon, settling comfortably into place in the north of the sky and twinkling for several moments. Then another one, finding its home. Then two, then three – five, six – twelve, twenty – a hundred – a thousand – ten thousand – a million points of light, all bursting from the horizon and swarming across the night sky, twirling around each other as though in chase, arranging themselves into constellations that swirled across the sky. Here, Draco pursued Cepheus as though seeking a meal; there, Corvus and Cetus flew around each other in an intricate dance in three dimensions. Orion fired his bow and loosed a thousand more stars as the arrow sought, but missed, Tauros. Cancer scuttled into place, Canis and Lupus eyed each other warily, Leo and Ursa gave each other respectful distance, and all made way for Argo Navis, the Boat, the largest of all constellations, its crashing keel scattering countless more stars across the night sky.

Like rowdy children, they moved around, fidgeting, settling into place, but their movement only stopped when a bright glow, dwarfing that of any of the stars, appeared on the horizon, and edge of the source of the argent light began to appear in the distance, its glow washing across the land like a slow-moving wave of gentle, silver light – the Moon.

Celestia realized after several minutes that the show was over – and it took her several moments afterwards to realize that her jaw was hanging open, just slightly. She closed it as she looked to Luna, who was no longer regarding her with an arch look, but instead a look of appreciation.

“I…I have never seen anything so beautiful,” Celestia said, stepping away from Luna and towards the edge of the balcony, watching as the silver light of the moon moved across the land, up the sides of the mountain that Canterlot was on, then through the city itself, before finally proceeding to pass over her. The light was cold, but not in a frigid way – more like a gentle coolness, the kind eagerly sought after a hot summer’s day.

Luna smiled gently at that as she joined Celestia, watching her even as Celestia herself looked at the stars and the moon. For several long minutes, there was only silence, before the Princess of the Night finally broke it.

“If thou art an alicorn,” Luna said, “then thou must, in some way, be a composite of all three pony tribes, and yet greater than the sum of thy parts. We shall start with thy wings. Thou art in possession of them, clearly, but canst thou use them?”

Celestia flapped her wings a few times at that, taking off from the balcony. “I can fly,” she insisted.

“Thou canst hover, yes. Soar, maybe. Glide, probably. But I do not yet know if thou canst well and truly fly.” Luna beat her wings – once – and was almost instantly a hundred feet in the air. Celestia’s jaw dropped at the speed, even as a wry grin overtook Luna’s features.

“Catch me, if thou art able,” she ordered, before turning around and shooting off into the east.

Celestia stared, blinking a few times, before realizing that hovering there in stunned silence was going to do nothing towards her chances. Her own wings began to beat as she gave chase to the Luna’s receding form.

And, she couldn’t help herself – she was smiling.

5. The Pegasus Race

Once, when she was a little filly who still believed herself to be a simple earth pony adopted into a family of earth pony vitners, a carnival had come to Celestia’s home town, Città delle Colline Rotolanti (the townsponies normally simply shortened its name to "Rotolanti"). This had been a major event, as travelling shows rarely made their way to Rotolanti– it was not something to be missed, not even in the midst of harvest season.

Celestia – then Cadenza – had been impressed by the acrobats, astounded by the jugglers, amused by the clowns. The memory that stood out most in her mind, however, were the trio of pegasi fliers claiming to be the fastest and bravest fliers in all of Cavallia. The trio had indeed lived up to that name, performing magnificent tricks and acts of derring-do in the air, dodging lightning bolts of their own creation and racing each other and any challengers across the sky. One had even claimed that he was capable of doing the legendary Sonic Rainboom, though he had not demonstrated such talent at the carnival, and Celestia had personally always suspected that he had been lying to make himself look good. Really, he had not needed to – even without performing such a stunt, he had been an amazing flier that had left Celestia in awe.

It was a similar feeling of awe that now enveloped Celestia as she chased after Luna, who, on seeing her finally recovering from her shock and giving chase, had dived down low, hovering a few feet above the tiled rooftops of Canterlot’s four-and-five story tenements, watching Celestia approach carefully, the same wry grin on her features.

Celestia wasn’t much surprised when, just as she closed in on Luna, the blue alicorn once more beat her wings, taking to the sky easily. Celestia had to flare her wings wide to slow her motion, beating against her own inertia and alighting atop a chimney, before kicking off and taking to the sky once more after Luna. The Princess rolled to avoid Celestia’s charge, letting gravity take over as she fell to the streets of Canterlot, smirking the whole time with her back to the ground.

Celestia stopped her ascent and dove after her, easily exceeding the mere pull of gravity and closing within just a few feet of Luna before the Princess put her wings to work once more, pushing away and forwards, her downward motion stopped with minimal effort as her wings caught air currents and buoyed her away from the ground, but only just. Her silver-shod right front hoof dangled lower than the rest, striking the moonlit, cobblestone streets of Canterlot as she moved through them and sending up sparks as metal scraped stone. At this time of night, with only the moon and the stars to provide illumination, there were precious few ponies on the streets, but there was enough that after a few moments, Luna sent herself skywards again, out of their way and towards a bank of clouds gathering over Canterlot.

Celestia, once more, was not nearly so fast at changing directions. She was nevertheless swiftly after the lunar princess as she spun in the night air, Luna’s direction changing from vertical to horizontal yet again as she dove between two tall cloud-columns. Celestia gave chase, wings beating furiously as she moved straight ahead, making only minor adjustments to her course as she closed inexorably on Luna.

With a flourish, Luna spun in place, letting her inertia carry her forwards still, until she hit a cloud sideways – and stopped, standing on the cloud’s side as though it were solid ground. Celestia’s jaw dropped slightly at her sudden lack of motion – a feat that she was unable to duplicate as she collided and then plunged through a cloud, sheer speed overwhelming her ability to stand on it, soaking her mane and dress thoroughly as the ice particles that the cloud was composed collided with the heat of her body. She flapped her wings rapidly, eventually slowing down enough to bank and turn about, heading once more towards Luna, who was waiting a thousand feet back, having climbed to the top of the cloud.

Not once had Celestia truly come close to laying a hoof on Luna – each time it had looked like she was about to, she knew was merely because Luna had let her come so close. She expected a look of disappointment on the Princess’ face.

Instead, as she alighted atop a nearby cloud of her own, Luna was still wearing the same wry grin. “Thou art quite fleet of wing…” Luna proclaimed, “…for a feathered earth pony.”

“I…I am an alicorn!” she insisted.

“Thy voice does not contain a surfeit of confidence,” Luna stated, though her grin widened by a hair after a moment. “I am unkind. Thou art, in truth, a swift and strong flier…simply not a very agile one.” Her head tilted to the side somewhat. “Of course, thou art flying with a disadvantage.”

Celestia blinked a few times at that, before noticing that Luna was looking not directly at her, but rather the soaked-through dress she wore. While its weight was negligible, it was hardly the most aerodynamic outfit, especially now that it was soaking wet with cloud water. “Ah…” she noted. “I…thought it would be most appropriate if I…if I dressed for the occasion.”

Luna’s grin was replaced by a look of curiosity, though Celestia could tell that it was only an act. “Dress for the occasion?” she echoed. “But thou art my sister! That is thy claim, is it not? Wherefore would Celestia dress simply for a drawing of the night like any other?”

“It…it was like no other!” she proclaimed. “Never have I seen the stars dance in the sky so!”

Luna’s head tilted to the side. “That is untrue, ‘sister,’” she said. “Thou hast witnessed many such nights. Or…ah.” Her smile returned, this time a knowing one. “Thou dost not remember.”

Celesta grimaced. “N…no. I do not.”

“I would venture that thou remembers nothing of thy ‘past life,’” Luna pressed, wings beating a few times as she took to the air, then landed on Celestia’s cloud, with the still-rising moon behind her, casting a silvery halo around her body. Celestia idly wondered if Luna did that intentionally, or if it were mere coincidence. “One cannot help but wonder, therefore, what brings thee to believe that thou art Celestia reborn at all.”

Celestia stood tall, though even at her full height she still had to look up to Luna. “I am an alicorn,” she stated again. “I am Celestia, reborn. My adopted parents found me eleven months, to the day, from our battle, when thou banished me to the Sun.”

“Where Celestia yet remains,” Luna insisted.

Celestia closed her eyes, a smile of her own on her face. “Yea…and nay, sister. Thou made use of the Elements of Harmony. They consigned the madness and cruelty that had consumed me into the Sun – but I am what was left. All that was good in Celestia, I still am.”

“And what brings thee to this conclusion?”

Celestia opened her eyes, looking to Luna. “It is the one the Exarch of Cavallia, in collusion with all of his matriarchs and patriarchs, reached after much deliberation. What other conclusion could there be?”

Luna’s grin faded just slightly at that. “What, indeed?” she asked. She considered for a few moments. “Until I am sure, I shall call thee ‘Cadance.’”

“Cadenza,” Celestia corrected, before she could stop herself. Her eyes widened and she put a hoof to her mouth. “That is – I would prefer – but if thou wish – ”

“Peace,” Luna insisted, holding out a hoof. There was a moment of silence from the alicorn before she continued. “Thou shalt be Cadenza to me, then, until I am certain of thy claim.” Her grin dropped a moment later, replaced by a scowl, albeit one that lacked any true malice behind it, as she leapt back onto the cloud she had previously been occupying. “And I am disappointed in thee, Cadenza! I was right next to thee, I failed to call for a pause, but thou made no attempt to capture me! Didst thou never play ‘tag’ as a foal?”

Celestia blinked. “Wh…what?”

“I played it often with my sister, in ages past,” Luna reminisced. “There is a good chance, Cadenza, that tag is the oldest game – the first game. That, or hide-and-seek. Of course,” she smiled, “back then, my sister and I cared little for the passage of time. Our games could last for months – years – decades! The whole of the world was our playground!”

Surreality, thy name is Luna, Celestia thought, too stunned to consider the thought blasphemous. She had never expected to hear the Shepherd of the Moon, Vanquisher of the Sun, Mistress of the Star Beasts, and Sovereign of Equestria, reminisce about games of tag played in her youth, uncounted millennia ago. “I…” she eventually managed. “Yes. I played tag.”

“Well,” Luna said, stretching on the cloud and beating her wings a few times, though not taking to the air again. “Thou were not very good at it, I surmise. Perhaps a race instead, this time without thy agility being hampered by thy dress.”

Celestia bristled. She’d hoped that the subject had slipped Luna’s mind, but in hindsight it was foolish to believe that Luna ever forgot anything. “I…well. Thou art weighed down by thy regalia. ‘Tis only fair.”

Luna looked at her royal regalia: the black crown on her head, the chestplate hung from her neck, and the silver shoes around her feet. After a moment’s consideration, she blinked, and they simply disappeared from her person. She spun her fetlocks around and scratched at her neck with the alula of her wings. “There,” she said, then looked to Celestia. “I expect that thou art now out of excuses.”

The pink alicorn blinked a few times, before looking around. “Er…” she said. “I…have nowhere to store my dress? Which is, after all, really thine own…at least, I acquired it from my room in the castle…I do not wish to ruin it…”

Luna stared, waiting, as Celestia chewed her lip. Eventually, she let out a long sigh of resignation. “P…please, Princess, do not laugh…” she begged.

“Never,” Luna promised. After a moment, Celestia's horn glowed blue, and she began to remove the dress from her person. It took several minutes of fumbling with the various ties, clasps, and loops of the dress, but Celestia eventually succeeded in extracting herself from it. She managed to buy herself a few more seconds by shucking the shoes and necklace that had come with the garment, folding them up and into it…but at length, she saw Luna waiting patiently, and so – holding her breath and scrunching her eyes shut – she turned so that Luna could see her cutie mark. Or rather, her lack thereof.

The expected gasp of surprise or barely-contained snigger of derision didn’t come. Cautiously, Celestia opened one eye, and found that Luna, rather than staring at Celestia like the twenty-year-old-blank-flank freak that she was, had her eyes locked onto Celestia’s own, a warm smile on her face, though she said nothing.

Celestia looked to her flanks, then back to Luna. “The Exarch says that I will have my cutie mark when I raise the sun,” she explained. “That once I begin my celestial duties again, I shall be whole.”

Luna’s smile dropped into a concerned frown. “I sincerely hope that he did not use that phrasing,” he said. “Thou art whole, Cadenza. And my sister never raised the sun out of mere duty, just as I do not guide the moon and the stars simply because it is expected of me. A cutie mark is not some brand indicating thy role in the world. It is thy special talent – it is what makes thee happy. If bringing the golden light of the day is what does that – revealing the blue of the sky, warming the earth that plants may grow, regulating the passage of the seasons and the maternal clocks of mares that new life may be created – if that brings thee joy, then yes, the act of raising the sun, if thou art able, shall place its mark upon thee. But if it is otherwise…then it is otherwise. And there is nothing wrong with that.”

Celestia smiled at that. What Luna had said stood in stark contrast to the Exarch, who had impressed upon Celestia that a cutie mark was a mark of one’s role, passed down from the ethereal once one had found one’s place in the world. Celestia’s not having one yet, he had claimed, was simply the result of her needing to do the role she was reborn to do – to take stewardship of the Sun back from Luna, and once more guide it across the skies.

But between the Exarch – who, for all his wisdom and his age, was still just a mortal pony, one who likely wouldn’t live out a single century, let alone eons of time – and the immortal Luna, Celestia knew which one she trusted more to know about the way of the world. “Did it take thee as long to discover thy talent?” she asked.

Luna pursed her lips as she thought. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Time was meaningless to me that long ago. Perhaps it took a day…perhaps a millennium…I cannot say.” She looked back down, to Celestia’s dress and accessories. In a flash of deep blue light, they disappeared, and Luna hopped into the air once more, settling down next to Celestia, stretching her wings. “Now then,” she said. “No more distractions. This is a test. We shall race. I shall challenge thee with wind, and rain, and lightning, and hail, and anything else I think of – and, if thou art able, thou shalt do the same to me. Thou shalt not utilize thy unicorn magic at all, only thy hooves and wings.”

Celestia nodded. “Where are we racing to?”

Luna grinned. “The island of Tambelon, in the Sea of Tranquility,” she stated, then drooped down into a ready position. Celestia did likewise, each alternating before staring straight ahead, and to each other. “Ready,” Luna intoned, her weight shifting from one hoof to another slightly, wings ruffling, “steady…go!”

Celestia kicked off from the cloud, and Luna did likewise, both spreading their wings wide as they charged forward into the night. Almost immediately, Luna veered off from a straight race to Tambelon, diving into the largest cloud in the bank, one that was hundreds of feet tall and thousands of feet wide. Celestia watched her dive, wondering what the Princess of the Night was doing, when the cloud darkened and began to crackle with electricity – and then move, chasing after Celestia, though slowly at first. Luna emerged from the cloud after a moment, eyeing Celestia, before beginning to spin in tight circles around it, right wing brushing it as she sculpted, molded, and twisted the cloud. It began picking up speed, spiraling like a tornado after Celestia and swiftly closing the gap that she had managed to put between herself and Luna.

The cloud-twister seethed with lightning and howled with wind, as it began to create a vortex ahead of itself, drawing in the air – and pulling back Celestia, no matter how hard she struggled. She had just enough time to cry out in surprise before she was sucked into the cloud-twister.

Inside, it was loud, and dark, and chaotic. The cloud-twister was free of debris other than herself, of course, but the pink alicorn was nevertheless buffeted about as she tried to escape through the sides or forward. She initially though to just let herself be spat out the cloud-twister’s rear, but each time the howling winds brought her close, some new windstream would pick her up and toss her back into the twister’s center. And when she would reach the edge of the cloud-twister and try to plunge through, lightning would cackle and strike, warding her away.

Celestia panicked as her wings flailed uselessly against the howling dark. She had never flown in weather as bad as this, had barely ever flown in much more than a light drizzle, in fact. Her first thought was to call upon the magic in her horn to do something – amplify her weight, perhaps, making her too heavy to carry – but she then remembered the nature of this challenge.

Luna did not appear to be holding back. She still circled the cloud-twister, Celestia could see during her brief glimpses outside of it, doing barrel rolls around her creation as she continued to use her wings to keep the unnatural weather moving.

For the briefest moment, Celestia felt despair. But only a moment. Narrowing her eyes against the powerful gusts, she stopped trying to fight the winds, but instead spread her wings, seeking the currents that hurled her around and altering her course to fly along with them. She stopped flailing her wings, instead gliding along the interior of the wind storm, until she was gliding along its edges, her back to the twister’s interior and her legs tucked tightly against her barrel.

Idly, she supposed that, with so much spinning going on, she would have thrown up all that she had eaten today had she not been an alicorn. She wondered if Luna would accept that as further proof of her heritage.

Celestia was no longer flying about wildly, but nor was she free from her prison of wind and storm yet. Reaching out one leg, she let the keratin of her hoof touch the spinning cloud, though her leg trembled against the wind as she did so. Instantly on touching the cloud, Celestia could feel it, a sensation that shot from her hoof straight up her leg and to her wings, which she spread wide, stretching every feather to their limit as she reached down her other front hoof, plunging it into the cloud, willing it to disperse. She began to stomp at it with each hoof, poking holes, ruining its shape and structure. The twister began to tear itself apart…but then a shadow passed in front of Celestia, and the holes began repairing themselves, the wind outside of the twister serving to mold the cloud formation back into shape: Luna, safeguarding her creation as the howling winds seemed to pick up renewed strength, gliding along directly opposite Celestia on the other side of the twister.

Exactly where Celestia wanted her to be. Steeling herself for several seconds, she raised her wings high and then beat them down in a single swift motion, willing the wind they caught to be shoved forward and out of the twister.

The action threw her, of course, back into the dark winds. But the gust she created shoved a ten-foot hole into the clouds and threw Luna away from her creation as well. Celestia didn’t have time to see Luna’s reaction as the winds of the twister poured towards the gaping hole she had created in the clouds, the incredible volume forcing its way through and tearing the cloud apart in earnest now.

Celestia grinned brightly, spreading her wings wide and once again sending out another great gust, then another, blasting as many holes as she could in the twister, the chunks torn from the cloud instantly vaporizing once they were free from the magically-created-and-sustained weather construct. Celestia let out a whoop of excitement – until a jet-black, cackling cloud suddenly engulfed her, and her mane and hair stood on end despite herself. She realized what was happening just in time to dive from the cloud just as Luna gave it a firm buck with her hind hooves.

The cloud flashed white as lightning coursed through it. Luna didn’t give it a second buck, as she saw Celestia had escaped. With a wide grin, she spun in place, pressed her front hooves against the cloud, and began chasing Celestia, striking the cloud on occasion and causing it to let out flashes of lightning and bangs of thunder. For the briefest moment, Celestia thought that she would out-fly Luna, but that was, of course, a foal’s dream, as Luna was swiftly upon her again. Celestia had little choice but to spin around and press all four of her own hooves to the cloud, pushing against it even as her wings beat frantically. The two alicorns slowed, then came to a complete stop in the air, Luna trying to envelop the cloud around Celestia, Celestia trying to disperse the cloud with her wings and hooves but failing as Luna’s own magic kept it in one piece.

Celestia forgot, for a moment, that on the other side of this small black cloud was the Princess of the Night. Pure instinct took over a she did the only thing she could think of: with Luna still pushing the cloud towards her with all her might, Celestia simply stopped doing likewise, letting herself fall into the storm cloud and kicking through it with her hind hooves.

The move was not quite enough of a surprise to stop Luna from striking the cloud firmly, causing lightning to arc through it and shock Celestia – she cried out in surprise and pain, though it wasn’t much, as a cloud of this size simply couldn’t produce enough lightning to seriously injure a pegasus, let alone an alicorn.

Celestia’s move was, however, enough to catch Luna off-guard, and Celestia felt her two hind hooves connect with something more solid than the cloud she was passing through even as it dawned on her that she was about to buck the Shepherd of the Moon, the Vanquisher of the Sun, the Mistress of the Star Beasts, the Sovereign of the Three Tribes, the Princess Luna Equestris.

Right in the face. Celestia gasped as she emerged from the other side of the cloud and saw Luna tumbling away for a few moments, before she flared her wings wide and stopped herself, one front hoof to her mouth and a look of utter surprise on the Princess' face. Celestia’s own hooves went to her own mouth in shock. “I…prithee, I am sorry, Princess! I just…got caught up…lightning…cloud…” her hooves flailed wildly, as though she were physically pointing out her excuses.

Luna lowered the hoof from her mouth, watching Celestia gesticulate helplessly. Her eyes were still wide in shock. “That…” she intoned. “That is it? That is all thee can muster when bucking?”

Celestia pressed her front hooves together. “Prithee, please do not destroy Cavallia for my affront, instead banish me to the Sun or the stars or…to the…wait. What?” She blinked a few times as she processed what Luna had said.

“I thought that thou grew up as an earth pony! Surely thou canst hit harder than that.”

“I…well, I wasn’t really trying…” Celestia said, feeling stupid even as she did so.

Luna grinned. “I certainly hope not! Never fear, Cadenza, I did state that thou couldst make use of thy hooves, I did not specify that thou must restrict them to the shaping of clouds…and I gave thee leave to try and stop me in any way thou wished,” she said, before beating her wings a few times and returning to the same altitude as Celestia. “Shall we resume our race?” she asked. Before Celestia could respond, however, Luna took off.

As she flew, Luna couldn’t help but feel a little disappointment. She was fairly certain that she had, once again, left Cadance in the proverbial dust, probably with that same flabbergasted expression. It was quite a let-down that her –

Blackness swallowed the princess, though that blackness was swiftly replaced by a bright flash of lightning as electricity coursed through Luna’s body. To Luna, who had experienced far worse in her vast lifetime than mere sparks of lightning striking her body, the pain was negligible. The far greater surprise was, as she passed through the black lightning cloud, the sight of Cadance soaring ahead of her and towards Tambelon. And most surprising was when Cadance looked over her shoulder, and stuck her tongue out at Luna, before shooting off.

Luna felt her heart swell at the sight, though after a moment she tempered it, putting more force behind each wing beat. For the moment, she forgot everything else – she forgot the pain of the past several centuries and especially the past few decades. She forgot the hard work and toil that awaited her back in Canterlot. She forgot her own still-lingering desire for wine in quantities that could kill a township and leave even an alicorn in a drunken stupor. And, she forgot to temper the feeling in her chest with the knowledge of what would happen come dawn.

No – for the moment, all that Luna was, was focused on Cadance.

6. The Unicorn Challenge

Not since the now-legendary battle between Luna and Corona had the skies over Equestria been subject to such a show. The two alicorns twisted and dove around each other, hooves catching and shaping cloud into squalls and tempests which they would then shove each other’s way. Lightning arced across the heavens, illuminating the two in flashes of glory and peals of power, and thunder rolled ominously, the sound enough to rattle the earth that the two alicorns flew over.

In the backs of their minds, both alicorns regretted the havoc that they were playing with the weather patterns of Equestria, the additional work they were making for the weather ponies of the land. And, true, as this was a race, with a set destination, each alicorn could have better secured her victory by simply leaving the other behind and racing straight towards Tambelon.

But aside from a greater workload for the pegasi, the two alicorns were doing no true harm to the land they flew over, nor the ponies who occupied it – and besides, a straight race wouldn’t have been nearly as fun.

Celestia pushed herself in ways that she had never even attempted before. Of course, when she had first acquired her wings, she had flown almost non-stop, had made a bed of clouds and created weather, out of sheer joy that she could – but never on this scale, never at this speed, never had she truly pushed her wings and her hooves to their limits. Objectively, she had never doubted that she was an alicorn, but tonight, for the first time, she felt it. She whipped up tempests and created storms that would have taken an entire weather patrol of pegasi to duplicate. She flew higher and faster and for a longer time than she ever thought she would. Luna challenged her with gust and gale and Celestia responded in kind each time.

Yet despite this, there was an air of playfulness between the two – the thrill of danger, but no fear of harm. Luna played hard, and fast, and dirty, but she did not try to cause undue pain to Celestia. Her lightning stung but was far more damaging to Celestia’s pride than her body, and Celestia never once sought to try and remove Luna from the skies entirely – the thought never even crossed her mind.

Her chest heaved, her wings ached, her hooves were sore, and she felt alive. At least, until she and Luna arrived over the edges of a thick, overgrown forest. The two had been wrestling a cloud between them again, moving at near the speed of sound itself a scarce hundred feet off of the ground, when they passed over the tree line.

Almost instantly – each of their eyes widening in surprise – they each lost their grip on the cloud, falling into it and crashing into each other as the cloud itself dissipated into nothingness, consumed by its own speed. Luna and Celestia plummeted for a few moments as they sought to disentangle themselves from each other, coming apart just in time to save themselves from falling straight into the twisted boughs that they flew over.

Celestia settled atop the thick crown of one tree, steadying herself with her wings spread wide for balance. Looking to Luna, she saw that the Princess of the Night had done as she had, a few dozen feet away.

“What happened?” Celestia asked, extending and flexing the feathers on her wings. She could feel the ambient moisture in the air, but swirling and moving her wings was doing nothing to gather it, like she had been able to do so easily before.

Luna offered a grim smile. “I hadn’t noticed how far we’d flown…” she said softly. “We have passed over the boundaries of the Everfree Forest. Here, the land attends to itself – the plants grow, the animals live, the weather changes, all according to the chaotic whims of nature.” She extended a hoof over her head, swirling it around quickly. Had she done so just a few hundred feet away, she would have been well on her way towards creating a cloud – but here, all she managed to do, instead, was stir the air.

“We could still create weather here, thou and I,” Luna continued, lowering her hoof, “but only because we are alicorns, and only with tremendous effort.” She looked to Celestia, wings spread wide as she took to the air. “But, we can still fly. From here, to Tambelon, is just a race. Thy speed against mine own.”

Celestia took to the air as well, but was frowning. “I…know the name, the Everfree. This…” her eyes widened when the memory struck her, even as her voice dropped. “This is where…this is where it ended.” She looked to Luna. “This is where our battle ended.”

Luna grimaced. “It is where the contest between my sister and I reached its conclusion, yes,” she responded, turning a little and pointing. “There. That way. There is a palace, an old palace, built atop the ruins of an older one still, itself built upon an older one…back, and back through the ages. It was my home once, and…and my sister’s.”

“Mine,” Celestia said.

Luna looked to her, a flash of anger in her eyes – though only for a moment, as the anger swiftly melted away into sympathy. “Perhaps,” she said carefully, before flying closer to Celestia, looking down at the smaller alicorn. “Be it thy wish to go there?”

Celestia considered the question for several long minutes, staring in the direction that Luna had pointed. Miles away, visible only due to their height and her alicorn eyes, Celestia could see the tip of a tall, stone tower, poking out over the tops of the trees. For a moment, she could almost imagine a pull, a need to go there, to see the place where her hate and rage were trapped forever in the Sun, and where she was restored…

…but that was all it felt like: an imaginary feeling. She wanted to feel a pull, but she didn’t. And, perhaps, that was for the best. Slowly, she shook her head. “Perhaps later,” Celestia informed Luna, looking to her sister. “But not now.”

Luna, for her part, looked like she barely held back a sigh of relief, as she and Celestia rose above the tree line, facing west once more. “Our race resumes,” she said after a moment, her voice notably shaking. “No more weather-magic, no more contests of skill or guile. We shall fly straight and true to Tambelon.”

Celestia nodded, though she frowned again as she did so, thinking back to everything Luna had just said – and one thing in particular. “Thou acknowledged that I am an alicorn,” she noted.

Luna’s eyes widened a little. “I did not,” she objected.

“It is so, sister. Thou sayeth: we could still create weather here, thou and I, but only because we are alicorns. We. That is plural, yes? And there are no other ponies about claiming to be alicorns that I am aware of…”

“Thou art imagining things.”

“I…do not believe so.”

“No, thou art raving,” Luna said, though she grinned even as she did. “But enough! We fly to Tambelon.”

She shot off, but by now Celestia was beginning to understand Luna and her methods, and so was only a second behind the Princess of the Night, then in another moment ahead of her, as though Luna had not expected to Celestia to actually start at the same time as she did. “I said no more contests of guile!” Luna shouted against the force of their own speed.

“Beginning the race at thy command is guile?” Celestia asked in return, looking back over her shoulder at Luna. In response, Luna picked up her speed again, closing in on and then passing Celestia. Celestia’s eyes widened at that, and she found inner reserves of speed, herself, as she was able to come up upon Luna once more, forelegs extended so that she could have a lead – a lead of an inch, at most, but a lead nonetheless – on her sister, a lead she was determined to hold, all the way to the Island of Tambelon.

Celestia’s chest heaved. Her lunged burned. Her wings and legs quivered as adrenaline still coursed through her body, still tried to convince her to get up and run or fly even as her muscles begged her for mercy. She was drenched, positively soaking in sweat as the moon rose high in the sky, nearly at its zenith now.

Luna, she realized now, had been holding back their entire race up until they had reached the Everfree – perhaps not in terms of weather magic, but certainly in terms of outright speed. But once they had begun again, at the Everfree, she had stopped. Sound itself had shattered in their wake, though fortunately from the borders of the Everfree Forest to the haunted Island of Tambelon, there were no ponies, no settlements, nothing but miles and miles of treetops that eventually gave way to miles and miles of open water that the two flew low enough over to leave waves in their wake. Once over the water, Celestia knew she could have called upon her weather magic again to try and hamper Luna – but doing so would have taken time, time enough for Luna to pull far ahead of her. So she had instead thought only of the next beat of her wings, the next breath of air in her lungs – and, when she had seen it on the far horizon, the white sands of the beaches of Tambelon.

It was by less than a second, it was at speeds that made her trip over her own hooves and tumble she didn’t know how far up the beach, into the thick trees of the island, over an overgrown cobblestone road – hit a rock and be sent flying into the air – incapable of getting her wings under her in time, and so crashing down in the center of a stone plaza – nothing was broken, but everything was bruised, her entire body nothing but aches and pain…

But she had won.

“Cadance!” Luna cried out as she flew overhead, circling around Celestia’s fallen form before letting herself fall to the ground, landing evenly.

Even as she did, Celestia was picking herself up, still jittering, still in pain…but she smiled widely as she stood tall and looked Luna in the eye. “What…” she said, even as she gasped for breath, “what do…what dost…thou thinkest…of my wings?” she demanded.

Luna was breathing heavily as well, but not nearly as much as Celestia. She had galloped up to Celestia, panic evident in her face, though it was panic that subsided as she saw that Celestia was basically unhurt, or at least not in a permanent way. The Princess of the Night considered Celestia’s question for a few moments. “Thou canst most certainly fly,” she said at length.

“Molto bene…mi scusi…” Celestia said, nodding a few times before falling to her side once more. Luna was beside her in a moment, getting down onto her stomach, horn glowing deep blue as she examined Celestia.

“Thou art…” Luna said, voice trailing off as she searched for the correct wording while Celestia's lungs heaved, “thou art…undamaged. Thou hast suffered no permanent harm…not for thy lack of trying.” She was frowning deeply. “I have never seen a worse landing. Every bone in thy body would be dust if thou were merely a pegasus!”

“Vinto…”

Luna paused at that. “Only because I let thee,” she insisted.

“Bugiarda…”

“Didst thou just call me a liar? Thou art growing quite bold.”

Celestia opened her mouth to try and apologize, but there was a hoof over it before she could. Luna’s horn glowed a little brighter as the Princess of the Night closed her eyes, and a midnight-hued aura traced its way around Celestia’s prone form. It was like cold water and a cool balm for her aching muscles all in one, exactly what Celestia needed right now. She closed her own eyes, letting Luna’s magic work its way through her body. Slowly, her quivering wings stilled, her shaking legs found a semblance of peace, and her breath slowed to more normal levels in her chest. When Luna’s magic finally withdrew from her, she almost – almost – let out a cry of consternation. But, that would have been unseemly, and un-princesslike. So, instead, she picked herself up off of her side, settling into a proper lying position, hooves tucked underneath her barrel and wings folded on her side.

She also, for the first time, gave serious consideration to their surroundings. She found herself in the center of a small, overgrown and obviously abandoned town – or perhaps hamlet would have been more correct, though even that seemed generous. The cobblestone street beneath her was fighting a losing battle against grasses and weeds, while the scarce hoof-full of one-story stone buildings were in a similar state of decay and disrepair, their roofs, likely once wood or thatch, had decayed long ago. One building had collapsed entirely on itself but for a single wall. The small plaza that she was in was dominated in its center by a fountain. The fountain had once had a statue of some kind of pony adorning it, but wind and rain had eroded it so badly that Celestia couldn’t even begin to guess what tribe the pony had belonged to, let alone who it was supposed to represent. The fountain water in the fountain was thick and clearly polluted, even in the moonlight.

“This is Tambelon?” Celestia asked after several moments of looking around. “I had imagined the Dark City to be more…” she searched her Equestrian vocabulary for some moments before shaking her head. “More,” she said simply.

Luna offered a grim smile as she stood, Celestia doing likewise. “Nay, this is not the city. No city can exist purely on its own.” She waved a hoof around. “Tambelon relied upon farming and seaweed-harvesting villages such as this one to keep it fed, just as Canterlot is surrounded by thorps and hamlets of its own. After my sister and I banished Grogar and the city of Tambelon into Shadow, however, we had this island evacuated. Let the forest here reclaim what it will.”

Luna beat her wings a few times, taking once more to the air, Celestia following. The two flew at a measured, gentle pace across the island, towards its center, leaving the ruined thorp behind – and arriving at Tambelon itself.

Or what was left of it.

One thousand years ago, give or take a few decades, a being – some called him a ram, some a demon, none knew for sure – had come from nowhere, dark power emanating from his curved horns and dark intentions in his black heart. At the time, Tambelon had been a verdant, sovereign trading city – a stopping-off point for ships traveling from Paardveld in the north to Caballeria in the south; from Equestria in the east to the desert tribes of bison and camels in the west.

Grogar had seized Tambelon using dark magic, but he had not been after the riches of the city – he had been after the ponies that had called it home. He enslaved them, and worse, for Grogar had been a necromancer – a speaker to the dead. Stories of his exact intentions from there varied from telling to telling – that he wanted to free Discord from his stone prison; that he wished to create an undead empire spanning the continent; that he had no goal but death and destruction.

But then the alicorns had heard of his deeds. Luna and Celestia had both journeyed to Tambelon. They had witnessed the dark actions that Grogar had undertaken there – and they had responded with flame and wind, with surf and stone. Grogar had fought them, and it was a testament to his power that, according to legend, he had managed to hold the two alicorns off for a full day and night – but that was all he managed.

As Celestia and Luna circled over the center of the island, Celestia saw that the walls of Tambelon remained – and nothing else. The entire city had been scoured from the face of the earth – buildings, parks, streets, even the sewers and catacombs. More than scoured, in fact, for while all over the island there were signs of ruined thorps and hamlets overgrown with weeds and vines, within the walls of Tambelon, nothing new had grown. It was as though the forest had taken a look at the site where the two alicorns had brought their full wrath down onto the earth, seen that they had left the wall intact, and understood the message that Luna and Celestia had delivered.

It was with a significant amount of trepidation that Celestia followed Luna down to the ground, the center of Tambelon. As Luna touched down, the earth beneath her rippled, traveling outwards from her and to the walls of Tambelon. As the rippled past, the ground shifted and settled, smoothing out to become a solid, mile-wide field of packed dirt. Once Celestia touched down, Luna regarded her with one arched eyebrow, and a wide circle, perhaps eight or nine feet in diameter, was etched into the dirt beneath Celestia’s hooves, surrounding her. After a moment, a glowing, barely visible field of white energy rose from the circle’s edge and created a dome over Celestia’s head, its top about twice Celestia’s height off of the ground.

Lastly, Luna’s horn flashed once, and a long, thin strip of deep blue ribbon appeared. Celestia watched, forcing herself not to react, as the ribbon slipped under her barrel, then looped around and over her back, the two ends of the ribbon meeting on her side and melding together, pinning her wings to her back, not particularly tightly, but securely enough that she could not spread her wings.

“If thou wished,” Luna asked, “dost thou thinkest thou couldst break that ribbon?”

Celestia considered, flexing her wings. The ribbon was strong, and would not break easily from a mere twitch of her wings or startled attempt to spread them – but if she tried, she was certain she could easily snap the strip in twain. She nodded.

Luna did as well. “If thou does so, thou forfeit thy claim to be my sister. Put thy hoof beyond the dome’s edge.”

Celestia did as instructed. The white, barely visible field offered no impediment to her leg – it was a trick of the light, nothing more. Luna nodded once again. “If any part of thy body leaves the dome again, for any reason, thou likewise forfeit thy claim. Understand?”

Celestia once again nodded as she withdrew her hoof. She’d heard of tests and trials like this – ponies who were believed to have a special talent in magic would often find themselves subject to such tests, and in fact Celestia had faced a few of her own back in Cavallia, although the Exarch had been far more concerned with trying to train her to act as, he felt, a princess should – however Celestia, after having spent the past several hours with Luna, was beginning to suspect that his viewpoint was woefully limited.

In any event, Celestia understood the point of the test: at any point, she could leave the dome of her own free will, but doing so was an admission of failure and inadequacy. In its own way, it was a sturdier boundary than any constructed of steel or stone. She regarded Princess Luna. “What are thy conditions for my success?” she asked.

Luna had begun to pace around the circle. “When I am satisfied,” she answered simply as her horn glowed midnight blue. As she walked, the air she left in her wake would mist and swirl, solidifying into small balls of ice that followed in her wake, hovering off of the ground.

Celestia grimaced, her own horn glowing, as she suddenly found herself very grateful for the healing magic that Luna had used on her earlier. She rifled through all the spells she knew. Fortunately, though that number was small, most of the magic she did know was defensive in nature, as the Exarch and her teachers had felt it a good idea that she know how to protect herself from harm – she would be well-suited to stopping small balls of ice.

Luna began tossing them, one by one. These, Celestia didn’t even waste true spellcasting on – she caught them with telekinesis, crushed them, and let them fall to the ground beneath her, or would telekinetically shove them from the ice circle before they could reach her. Luna kept creating more ice balls, while still moving, but Celestia kept catching them each time. It was pathetically easy – which meant that Celestia stayed on her hoof-tips. Even when Luna began to create larger balls of ice and throw them at faster speeds, which Celestia still had no trouble catching or deflecting, she kept her guard up.

This was Luna, after all. Through some ancient tradition, magic was closely associated with the the moon and the stars and the Night – with her. She was a being of immeasurable age. Even if she hadn’t been an alicorn with a near-limitless pool of magic to draw from, she would still would have had millennia of experience to draw upon – the remains, or lack thereof, of Tambelon were proof of that.

Luna began creating and throwing ice balls two and three at a time – then four, then five. Celestia reacted as quickly as she could each time, at last resorting to true spellcasting to create a shimmering, bright blue shield of energy in front of her. In response, Luna’s balls of ice started to arc around the shield – so Celestia conjured a second, then a third, then a fourth. Luna’s pace quickened as well, until she was galloping in circles around the dome, Celestia forced to split her time between keeping an eye on Luna, in case she tried something new, and stopping the balls of ice from striking her, as at the speeds they were being thrown, they could hurt her, and pain would only be distracting.

With her attention so focused, it was only by pure luck that she happened to glance down, and see it – the edge of the circle and the dome being surrounded by a midnight-blue aura, slowly, cautiously – until Luna realized that Celestia saw it, and grinned wickedly. Her horn flared brightly, and the circle and dome were lifted off the ground, but not Celestia.

“Oh, cazzo,” the smaller alicorn cursed, as the circle began to move.

7. The Alicorn Proof

Celestia’s hooves skidded upon the packed dirt as she rapidly changed direction to match the circle’s own shift. As she resumed running, she had to call up a shield once more to stop a quartet of balls of ice from striking her. She stopped three, the fourth smacking into her withers. For the barest moment, she was concerned that Luna might call off the trial – but no more than a moment, for Luna did not call it off, and Celestia didn’t have time to think beyond that as the circle once again changed direction.

Luna had stopped pacing, instead standing in the center of scoured Tambelon, moving only to keep following Celestia’s movements. Her horn glowed as she solidified moisture in the air and hurled it at the other alicorn, while simultaneously she continued to move the dome of light.

Celestia had no idea how long this had been going on for. She would have personally guessed that it had been scarce minutes, a half hour on the outside, but occasional glances at the moon overhead suggested otherwise – an hour at least, maybe more than one. But while she was still running, still defending herself, still had only felt the sting of ice striking her body only a few times, she also knew that whatever she was doing, it wasn’t satisfying Luna.

The Princess of the Night was not a sadist. She wasn’t doing this because she wanted to see Celestia struggle. She was looking for something, something beyond mere unicorn magic – Celestia’s telekinesis and shields were more than enough proof that she possessed that. Her thoughts turned to their race over Equestria – their struggle with wind and weather, their competition with crafted tornadoes and conjured gales. Luna had seemed far more satisfied with her showing in that contest, aside from the buck to the face, but then that had left her only disappointed, not –

Ah…capsico, Celestia thought as enlightenment struck. As the latest round of ice balls collided with her conjured shields, she reached out with her telekinesis, finding the edges of the circle, as cautiously as she could lest Luna see her, taking extra effort to hide the telltale, bright blue effervescence of her telekinetic aura. As Celestia’s aura crept over it, she was fairly certain that Luna didn’t notice, at least not until, once her encirclement was complete, Celestia dropped her conjured shields entirely. She ignored the pain of a few ice balls striking her as she stopped running and at the same time grabbed the edges of the circle, overpowering Luna’s own fairly loose telekinetic grab and bringing the circle to a halt as well.

“Finally!” she heard Luna exclaim. Celestia smiled brightly as she looked to Luna, expecting praise – but instead found the Princess of the Night standing with legs wide, as her horn glowed. Behind her and beside her, the earth rose up in a trio large, uneven chunks.

Celestia instantly realized where this was going just as one of the chunks – the largest of the three, four times Celestia’s height – was hurled at her. Without releasing her hold on the circle she’d claimed from Luna, she reached out telekinetically, not to the incoming rock, but to her own hooves as she leapt, taking the circle with her. Buoyed by her magic, she was able to plant her hooves on the top of the hurled earth, then leap from that higher into the air.

The smallest of the three chunks was thrown at her next, as she was falling back to the ground. Without thinking, she reached out telekinetically, imagining a long, thin plane of magic that would simply slice the chunk in half. There was a crack as it did so, and Celestia fell between the rent hunk of earth, landing evenly on the ground again.

She hadn’t even known she could do that, but she didn’t have time to feel pleased with herself as Luna telekinetically threw the last chunk of rock. This, Celestia caught with her own telekinesis, ducking even as she pushed the rock up and over her head, where it fell somewhere behind her. Even as she did, she realized three things – one, Luna was expecting her to do more than defend herself with the same shield spell over and over again; two, while no part of her body could pass beyond the limits of the circular dome, her magic was under no such restriction.

And three – now that she knew that, she realized that this wasn’t a magical test, so much as it was a magical duel. And duels weren’t won by staying purely on the defense. Of course, defensive spells were essentially all she knew – nopony in Cavallia had taught her any kind of offensive magic, and she’d possessed little desire to learn any. But on the other hoof, she’d previously been unaware that her telekinesis could be used to slice solid rock in half if focused correctly, but in the heat of the moment, without thinking and simply by doing, she’d been able to perform such a feat.

Start with what I know, she instructed herself, conjuring a pair of shields on either side of her. Blue and translucent, they were rectangular in shape, but she willed their lower halves to change in shape and length, changing them to become kite shields with sharp eddges. Even as she did this, Luna’s own horn glowed, and she conjured a pair of long steams of star-studded energy – whips, most likely.

Celestia charged. Luna was, by an order of magnitude, older and stronger than she was at present. She remembered fighting against Grogar, against Tirek, against Discord himself. The ruins of Tambelon were a testament to the power she could wield. If Celestia wanted any chance at winning, she would need to take and hold the initiative. She also reminded herself that, unlike her own wings, Luna’s wings were not bound – if Luna wanted to, she could fly, and Celestia knew enough of Luna now to know that she should not expect the Princess of the Night to play fair.

When she was within range, Luna’s right-hoof whip lashed out, straight forward. Celestia had expected it, using her conjured shield to block the incoming blow without slowing, then her other shield's sharp edge to slice Luna's whip in twain, destroying it. Luna’s second whip came in from the side, but Celestia stopped and destroyed that one as well – her shields were more than up to the task of protecting her. On seeing this, Luna didn't conjure more whips, and instead stamped both her front hooves onto the ground. She disappeared from view for a moment, and when she reappeared, there appeared to be six of her, each of which began spreading out and across the arena.

Celestia skidded to a halt, eyes wide for a moment as she took in the sight of each Luna. They had to be illusions, she knew, and fortunately illusion-dispelling magic formed a part of her existing repertoire of magic. She called up the spell, horn glowing bright blue as she hurled an orb of magic forward. It exploded in a burst of light, and all six Lunas disappeared – and one appeared from nowhere, charging straight at her.

Celestia’s eyes widened in shock, and she was barely able to move aside. Luna had anticipated the dodge, however, and adjusted her movement enough that she caught Celestia as she turned, knocking the wind from the smaller alicorn, although she was careful to knock into Celestia with her shoulder rather than her horn. That horn was instead driven into one of Cadance's shields, and a burst of magic along its length shattered it and reverberated into and destroyed the others, even as the two alicorns fell together in a heap.

Celestia had landed on her back and cried out, though more in surprise than pain, but got her legs under Luna and shoved, weaving magical enchantments into her legs as she did so that allowed her to toss Luna high into the air, then scrambled to her hooves. Celestia got her feet under her even as Luna landed easily, wings still tucked comfortably at her side, horn glowing and conjuring a dozen balls of ice. Celestia bit back a swear of exasperation as she was able to bring new conjured shields up in time to block the incoming ice balls. However, Luna conjured more and more, hurling a half-dozen each second.

Celestia dropped to the ground, calling on new, unfamiliar magic once more, acting purely on instinct now as she shaped her magic into the first direct counter to ice that she could think of. With a sweep of her front hooves, the air between Celestia and Luna ignited, creating a wide line of fire that almost instantly evaporated the ice Luna was throwing her way; what little reached Celestia’s shields was little more than harmless slush.

By the time Celestia dispelled the wall of fire, Luna had turned around, running away and grinning. Celestia, remembering the strength-enhancing enchantments she had woven into her hooves to get Luna off of her, leapt through the air and landed in front of the Princess of the Night, who skidded to a stop as Celestia’s horn glowed again and she conjured up five spheres eldritch energy – raw magic – and hurled them. Luna, surprise on her face at Celestia getting the drop on her, tried to avoid them, but magical attack was unerring and the five orbs hit home against her flank, neck, and legs. She stumbled slightly, but didn’t lose her balance, and winced at the slight pain.

“Impressive! But I’m not satisfied – not yet,” Luna called as she leapt backwards, spinning and horn glowing. Celestia threw more missiles, but Luna, prepared this time, stopped each of them with magic while still in the air. Celestia was already charging as the Princess of the Night landed, but as soon as she did the ground beneath Celestia suddenly became coated in a slippery substance, spreading out in a circle from Luna. She lost her balance and tumbled to the ground, though she continued gliding forward. Luna, meanwhile, had leapt, creating a gust of wind under her to carry her outside of the range of her grease spell, deliberately not using her wings. Once she landed on clean earth, she reared back onto her hind legs and shot a bolt of magic into the sky. Instantly, ice began to fall in large chunks – some as big as a pony’s head – over the greasy area.

Celestia gasped at the sight, willing herself to get out from under the magical ice storm. Her horn glowed of its own accord, and she suddenly had moved – changed positions entirely. She found herself standing an easy thirty feet from where she had been, covered in magical grease but no longer underneath the falling ice. She had teleported, she realized – something that only the most skilled unicorn mages were capable of.

Luna noticed, of course, and smiled, teleporting herself – disappearing from where she had been standing and appearing in front of Celestia and conjuring a blade of ice, swinging it telekinetically at Celestia. She barely avoided the initial swing and its follow-up jabs before centering herself enough to call up a blue-tinted, steel knife of her own (this was another new one, but by now Celestia had decided to stop marveling at her ability to create new spells on the fly), which was able to stop and shatter Luna’s. That gave her little time, however, as the shards of shattered ice were propelled forward telekinetically and into Celestia, stinging her.

Celestia felt a measure of exasperation by now. She threw a hoof forward as she directed her own conjured knife as Luna’s side, and nimble as Luna was, it still glided across her flank – though the blade was insufficiently sharp or magical enough to actually harm Luna. She nevertheless glanced at it in surprise – and took her eyes off of Celestia for a moment too long as the other alicorn reached out telekinetically and wrapped her magic around Luna, holding her in place.

Or trying to. Luna smiled wryly, horn glowing, and the brighter blue aura that surrounded her was pushed away and off of her. She cantered backwards several paces as her own midnight-hued magic enveloped Celestia’s own and snuffed it out, an action that sent a jolt of pain straight down Celestia’s horn and into her skull. By the time she recovered, Luna had created a quartet of whips, like the ones she had made before, and swung them in from all sides. Celestia brought her shields up on either side, stopping them, but then three more whips appeared from nothingness and lashed around Celestia’s front hooves and horn, pulling. She cried out as she lost her balance and fell forward, onto the dirt beneath her, while also losing her concentration, her shields disappearing and her magical grip on the dome failing.

Most of the whips disappeared, except for the ones around her legs. Luna pulled on them again, dragging Celestia forward, towards the edge of the circle. The pink alicorn panicked, conjuring up a blade again and driving it down into the whips, or trying to telekinetically destroy them, but failed as they tugged again, and her two front hooves came within an inch of the circle. Glancing up at Luna, she sent a telekinetic burst to the other alicorn’s horn again, but Luna expected it, stopping the burst easily. She tried to teleport again, but the whips held her in place, stopping her from popping out of reality. The whips tugged a third time, not hard, not much – but Celestia passed beyond the dome. Instantly, it disappeared, as did the strip around her wings, and the whips – and they took all of Celestia’s dreams for the past decade with them.

Celestia stared in shock at her own hooves, eyes wide. Slowly, she stood, looking to Luna and forcing the tears in her eyes back. “Th-thy terms were clear,” she said, slowly. “I – I f-failed, and s-s-so I shall f-forfeit – ”

“Still thy tongue,” Luna interrupted, though gently. “Thou hast met my expectations.”

Celestia had literally obeyed Luna’s command, mouth hanging open as she did. She closed it slowly, staring at the Princess of the Night in confusion. “B…but,” she said, tears still streaming from her eyes – tears of relief, which she was unable to keep at bay, unlike tears of despair. “But…thy terms – ”

Luna waved her concern away. “The only reason I made them,” she said, “was to put pressure on thee. The true test was of battle magic – and thy usage of it. Tell me: thou couldst cleave stone in half with telekinesis, or conjured fire. Why didst thou not attempt to do such to me?”

Celestia blinked in shock. “Cleave thee in half?” she demanded

“I admit that I was holding much back this entire duel, and I am certain that thou were aware of this. It almost certainly would not have worked.”

“But…but if it had?” Celestia demanded, her two front hooves shifting weight uncontrollably as her wings fluttered in agitation. “Not…I could never!”

“And that is what I needed to know,” Luna explained. “When thou faced true pressure, when everything thou holds dear was at risk, I needed to see how thou wouldst react.” She smiled. “I am pleased with the result.” Celestia shivered, wings folding tight against her body as she eyed Luna, who at last seemed to notice her discomfort and distress. “I…I am sorry, Cadenza,” she said. “It was cruel of me to act as I did. But I need to know how thou wouldst act.” She looked down at the ground. “I once before made the mistake of assuming that the pony I thought I knew, was all that there was to that pony. It is not a mistake I shall make again.”

Celestia nodded. “I understand,” she said softly. “I have much to repent for.”

Silence lingered between the two alicorns for several long moments after that, before Luna looked up, at the sky. The moon was about halfway down its descent by now, and soon it would need to set beyond the horizon, and the sun would need to rise. Luna spread her wings, taking to the air slowly. “Fly with me,” she said, “back to Equestria. Let us away from this place.”

The flight from Tambelon, over the Sea of Tranquility and the Everfree Forest, was done in silence. While the two alicorns flew at considerable speed compared to the cruising speed of a pegasus, neither were trying to race one another this time. Luna, whenever Celestia would look to her, was always staring ahead. At the beginning of the flight, she had managed to maintain a fairly neutral expression, but over the course it had gradually worn away to be a look of melancholy sadness, with perhaps a hint of determination to see things through, no matter the cost.

At length, about half of the distance between the Everfree Forest and Canterlot, Luna indicated the top of a large, grassy hill, the tallest for miles around in the broad fields that surrounded Canterlot. The two alicorns landed atop it, Luna squinting at the setting moon for several moments before looking behind her, at Celestia.

“How canst thou prove to me that thou contains within thee the abilities of an earth pony?” she asked, as she turned around and sat down on her haunches. “Earth pony magic is as great as any unicorn spell or pegasus squall, but it is slow, and it is subtle.” She laughed as she indicated the grasslands around them. “Perhaps I should have thee start a farm and inspect thy crop? It may take some time before I see results, however…”

Celestia bit her lip, thinking. “I…I have been proving it all night?” she asked. “When we raced to Tambelon. No pegasus could have kept going for as long as I did. Or, when I landed – crashed – into the island. Thy own words were that, were I a mere pegasus, my bones would have shattered.”

Luna’s head tilted to one side. “I have known pegasi capable of enduring great hardships and pain,” she noted.

Celestia blinked, even as Luna glanced to the east once more. Her horn began glowing, as in the far distance, the moon began its descent beyond the horizon. One by one, the stars in the night sky began to creep back from the east and head west as well, drifting across the dome of the sky and towards the horizon, joining the moon beyond it. At length, the only light across Equestria was the glow of Luna’s horn, casting both her and Celestia in a deep, midnight-blue glow.

“Raise the sun,” she instructed.

Celestia blinked. “Wh-what?” she demanded.

“Raise the sun,” Luna repeated. “If thou art Celestia, then it should be a simple enough task for thee. I have directed the course of the moon and the stars for as long as I can remember – and Celestia had done as much for the sun.” She took several steps forward, coming close to Celestia as she did so. “I will admit it, Cadenza: thou art an alicorn. I have known that thou art an alicorn from the moment I laid eyes upon thee. My inspection and trials have not been attempting to confirm that. They have been inspecting not what thou art, but who thou art.” She took several steps backwards, spreading her wings wide. “Equestria sits in darkness, Cadenza. Bring light to it, and thy claim shall be recognized. Thou shalt be my sister, reborn.”

Celestia stared at Luna, blinking. “But…I never…”

“Try.” Luna nodded towards the east. “It sits there, waiting for thee. If thou were only to look, thou wouldst find it.”

Celestia’s eyes fluttered rapidly several more times, before she let a look of determination pass over her face. She nodded once, looking to the east, and closing her eyes.

Celestia had tried to raise the sun in the past. On being told who she was, of course she had tried, several times, her magic reaching out far to the east and trying to grasp the burning orb of fire and light and magic that was the Sun. But there had always been a sort of blackness – a kind of curtain that seemed to stand in the way. This time, that curtain wasn’t there, and Celestia realized that the curtain must have been the influence of Luna – the Princess of the Night’s own perpetual grip on the Sun, controlling its actions, guiding it through the sky, an impenetrable wall of magic that likely had not even noticed Celestia’s own bumbling attempts. She had given up, settling on the fact that, once she was a Princess of Equestria again, the Sun would be returned to her.

Grasping the sun magically was completely unlike using telekinesis. It was a massive object, thousands of miles across, and further had no physical form to grasp at all, instead simply being an orb of fire and light and magic. Celestia at first attempting to grasp the whole thing anyway, but soon found that spreading her magic across its surface was simply beyond her abilities.

And then she noticed that she could go into it. In her mind’s eye, it was like she was floating in outer space, staring at the sun, and seeing a gap in the flames, a hole that would lead right down to its core. That was where she had to go – she was sure of it. Celestia cast her magic into that hole, travelling down the burning path…the image in her mind grew ever more vivid as she did. Soon, she was not simply imagining walking through the fires of the Sun. She was actually there, traveling into it, flying straight down towards the center. The fires were all around her, but they didn’t burn her. They warmed and caressed her, soothed her aching joints and bruised skin much as Luna’s own magic had done.

And at length, she passed beyond the fires, and arrived at the center of the sun. She saw fire everywhere, still, but it appeared transparent – and in the core of it all, she found herself standing on a surface, a solid sphere of some bright, scorching metal – gold, Celestia realized, gold that remained solid despite the extreme heat surrounding her. Like the fires all around her, the gold did not burn her in the slightest. The sphere was tens of thousands of feet across.

This is it, she thought, looking around. This is where…I have…

She saw her.

Celestia blinked, shaking her head. She knew that it was a pointless action – she wasn’t really within the Sun, she was back in Equestria. She had no true eyes to blink and no head to shake. But the actions came to her nevertheless as she saw, a hundred feet away, the smooth surface of the golden sphere broken by a wide throne of gold, its back made to look like the spreading wings and bowed head of an alicorn, reachable only by climbing a hundred wide steps.

And lying on the throne, asleep…

Celestia realized she was walking towards the throne, but couldn’t stop herself. She didn’t want to stop herself. She had to see her, had to…she spread her wings, taking flight and gliding the rest of the distance to the golden throne, setting down half-way up its steps.

She was large – half again the height of Luna, nearly twice as tall as Celestia. Her coat was the purest of white, its perfection marred only by the golden cutie mark on her flanks of the sun in full, blazing glory. Her mane and tail were flames as well, notably alight and standing out even in this place, where the very air itself was composed of flame. Clasped around her hooves were golden shoes, and a golden chest plate hung around her neck, while upon her head sat a crown of gold but for a regal purple gem set into its center.

Deep inside the burning heart of the Sun, Corona lay dreaming upon her golden throne.

But not for long. Celestia took one step away, her curiosity satisfied – and Corona’s eyes opened. For a moment, they looked like a normal pony’s, purple and with black pupiles, and for a bare moment, there was a look of surprise on her face. But then her lips curled back into a sneer, as the color in her eyes faded and they glowed brighter and brighter, gradually losing distinction entirely and becoming pure white orbs.

“Who art thou? How didst thou come here?” Corona demanded, rising, her voice shaking the Sun to its core, never mind the effect it was having on Celestia. The smaller alicorn let out a yelp of surprise as she beat her wings, gliding backwards and away from Corona. The white alicorn’s snarled, however, horn glowing bright white – and suddenly Celestia was forced to the ground, pressed to the golden sphere beneath her, then dragged forward as Corona descended her throne.

“Thou art not my sister,” Corona intoned as she walked. “Thou art nothing more than a trespasser upon my rightful domain!”

Celestia was in front of Corona now, Corona herself now standing at the foot of her throne, glaring down at Celestia’s prone form. “SPEAK!” The white alicorn demanded, in a voice that could have rattled apart stone. “What is thy name? What is thy purpose here? Answer me, or I shall visit such pain upon thee that thou shalt beg for death!”

“C-Celestia!” The smaller alicorn cried. “M-my name is Celestia!”

Corona recoiled at that, her snarl growing even more terrifying. “LIAR! IMPOSTER! I AM CELESTIA! I AM THE SUN!” She glared at Celestia, eyes narrowing as they flashed brighter, along with her horn. “Thou shalt suffer for thy presumption! I will visit such pain upon thee. I shall burn away all that thou art! There shall be NOTHING left! And I will crawl inside thy skull and use thee to see to my escape from this prison – ”

From nowhere, a dark blue orb of energy struck Corona, right at the base of her horn. The white alicorn recoiled, releasing Celestia. She scrambled away from the Tyrant Sun, turning around and spotting Luna, standing a scarce ten feet away. Without even thinking about what she was doing, Celestia ran behind Luna, ducking behind her, hiding behind her like a nervous foal hiding behind her mother.

Corona recovered quickly enough from Luna’s attack, and glared at her. “TRAITOR! RELEASE ME!” she cried, mane and tail flaring, horn glowing, as suddenly all the fires of the sun seemed to descend upon Luna. Celestia flinched, but Luna didn’t move a muscle. The fires passed harmlessly through her – and Celestia.

“She has no power here, Cadenza,” Luna said, as Corona screamed and stomped her hooves, conjuring more fire, lashing out at the two of them. “This would be a poor prison indeed if she had the run of the place. Even her grip upon you was born almost entirely from thy own belief of what she could do. Even still, thy own mind could never allow her to harm thee.”

“CONSORT OF TIREK! TRAITOR TO THY OWN BLOOD!” Corona spat, lunging at Luna. Celestia flinched again, but once more Luna stood still, and Corona seemed to come up against an invisible wall. She couldn’t touch Luna, nor even come close to it, though she railed against the barrier, slamming against it with her hooves, stabbing it with her horn. “I WILL BE FREE! EQUESTRIA BELONGS TO ME! IT IS MINE! EVERYTHING! MINE!”

Luna stared for several more moments, before her horn glowed. Gradually, all around Celestia, the fires of the Sun, the metallic sphere that she stood upon, the golden throne, the mad alicorn that was the Tyrant Sun, and the solid rock that was the Princess of the Night, faded from view, leaving Celestia crouched upon the grassy hill where she and Luna had alighted. Nearby, looking east, Luna’s horn was glowing, as she guided the sun over the horizon.

At length, she turned around, looking at Celestia, a sad look on her face as she did. “Every dawn, for twenty years, I have raised the sun. I have touched my sister’s soul, bound into the sun, banished there forevermore by the Elements of Harmony. I do not venture into the sun, as you did…I have learned how to project power into it, hoist it up as though using a lever, that I do not have to stand in her presence as I work.”

She trotted up to Celestia, who was sitting on her stomach, staring at her hooves. “But I always feel her,” Luna said softly. “I always feel her hate…her greed. Every morning. That is my punishment for not acting sooner, for not realizing what was happening to her…for not saving her. She is cast forevermore into the sun…and I am doomed forevermore to suffer her hate.

“And so, Cadenza, I can say this with absolute certainty: thou art not my sister.”

Celestia – Cadenza – looked up at Luna, as the other alicorn settled down next to her. She felt the warning signs a second before it happened – the stinging in her eyes, the trembling of her lip, the shivering in her breath…

And then a moment later, she was crying. Without thinking, she buried her head in Luna’s neck, sobbing openly – and Luna, with the same lack of thought, wrapped a wing over Cadenza’s bawling form, running a hoof through her mane, holding her tightly even as tears of her own slipped silently from her eyes, getting lost in the deluge of Cadenza’s own even as she whispered soft, comforting words into Cadenza’s ears.

The sun had already cleared the horizon by the time Cadenza was capable of conscious thought and intelligent words again. “B-but th-then…” Cadenza gasped out. “Then…I’ve spent so much o-of my life trying…who am I? Who am I, Princess?”

Luna drew away from Cadenza somewhat, looking the smaller alicorn in the eye for several long moments. “I don’t know,” she said at length. “I…I cannot answer that for thee. Nopony can. The course of thy life is thy own choice, Cadenza, but thou cannot follow in the hoof-steps of others. Thou must chart thy own course.” She drew Cadenza close again. “Thou art an alicorn. All of eternity stretches before thee. Each day, thou wakest up with thy whole life still ahead of thee. Thou art not Celestia – but thou art kind. Thou art courteous, and gracious. If all I see in thee is true, thou couldst still do much good in this world, if that is thy wish.”

Cadenza nodded, wiping her eyes, leaning closer into Luna’s embrace. She forgot, for a moment, that this was the Princess of the Night, the sovereign ruler of Equestria, the Shepherd of the Moon and the Vanquisher of the Sun. Instead, all she could think about was how warm Luna was with a wing wrapped over her…how surprisingly soft her pelt, how regular her heart’s beat within her chest, powerful and strong…

Within moments, the weight of the past day came crashing down on Cadenza, and she was asleep.

8. Revelation

Starlight paced back and forth across the Balcony Room, not caring about the castle staff that was staring at him. It probably had a different proper name, but Starlight had never learned it, and its most obvious potential name – the Map Room – referred to an entirely separate chamber located near Canterlot’s library. As a result, the room that contained the intricate map of Equestria on its floor and the heavens embedded into its ceiling was, in Starlight’s mind, named after its next most defining features, the three wide, rail-less balconies that looked east, west, and north.

Starlight usually met with Luna here every dawn, and had for the past eight years, ever since she had returned to Canterlot and selected him to be her majordomo. A nocturnal creature by choice, Luna would set the moon and the stars, raise the sun, and then impart final instructions to him – while he would give her a final report on the course of the day, assisted by the half-dozen ponies that stood near the door, each carrying ledgers and scrolls – before retiring one story up, to her chambers in the tallest tower. Starlight would typically himself retire as well, for as long as the Princess chose to be a creature of the night, her majordomo could be little else. There were also servants present, who would typically take the royal regalia from Luna to be cleaned and polished while she slept; and rounding out the group were a pair of Night Guards, in this instance two unicorns, who were mostly around for ceremonial purposes.

Eight years of routine, never broken before. Until, that was, today. For that matter, yesterday had skirted uncomfortably close to breaking routine, as well, and Luna had given in to her baser desires near its start, when she had assaulted the wine cellar. And the revelation that the pink mare claiming to be Celestia really was an alicorn, then Luna and her flying off, utterly abandoning the Night Court – such as it was, what with three provinces in five of Equestria still refusing to send representatives to Canterlot, as they continued to not trust Luna’s rule – and basically wasting an entire night on Stars only knew what.

He wasn’t precisely worried. The sun had risen at its normal time, or at least so close to it that Starlight couldn’t tell the difference. So, at the very least, Luna was most likely alright. Nevertheless, her odd behavior over the past twenty-four hours…

At length, there was noise from the eastern balcony. Stopping in his pacing and looking up, he saw Luna alighting upon it, as gently and quietly as possible, for lying across her back was the pink alicorn, the ‘Celestia reborn,’ as she claimed to be, eyes closed. Starlight also noted – with a small amount of distress – that Luna’s regalia was missing, as was the fairly expensive dress that the pink alicorn had come to see Luna wearing.

Starlight trotted over to the Princess, heedless of the fact that his hoof-steps were making firm clack-clack clack-clacks on the tiled floor beneath him. “Your Majesty – ” he began.

Luna shot him a wide-eyed glare, which stopped him in his tracks, then nodded her head towards the sleeping alicorn on her back. “Quiet,” she ordered, her voice just barely audible, as she made her way forward at a considerably more quiet pace. “She hath had a long night and is soon to have an even longer day. Let her sleep while she can.”

Starlight blinked a few times, before nodding and looking behind him, to the servants that had apparently approached more delicately than he. “Take her from the Princess and – ” he began, quietly.

Luna, however, cut him off again, this time with a slight cutting motion made with one wing. “I shall carry her,” she said as she made her way past the servants and paid little notice to the ponies bearing scrolls and ledgers and an entire night’s worth of work that had been wasted.

Starlight frowned at that. “Majesty, there is no need to burden thyself – ”

“Remember, Starlight, that from my perspective, being a princess – being waited upon mouth and hoof – is still a relatively new experience for me next to how long I have lived,” Luna interrupted, not slowing her gait. “I have moved mountains. A young mare can hardly compare to that.”

Starlight bristled, slightly, at the rebuke. Of course Luna was fully capable of carrying the alicorn on her back; that wasn’t the point. Nevertheless, she was still the Princess, and so he nodded after several long moments – Luna not slowing down in the slightest – turning to the servants and the bookkeepers. “The Princess will continue to put the affairs of the Night Court on hold,” he instructed them. “I will call you when you are needed. With her Majesty’s permission…?” He turned back to Luna, looking for confirmation of his order – and a reaction to his not-so-subtle jab at her – but found himself looking at an open door, through which he just managed to catch sight of the billowing, starry tail of the princess. The Night Guards had also left without informing him, not that they were required to.

Starlight’s eye twitched as he briefly considered staging a coup, if only to get the Princess to stop ignoring affairs of state. Sighing mightily, he turned to the other ponies in the room and simply waved a hoof. “Go on, get some rest, it’s not as though Equestria is still barely recovering from twelve years of anarchy and abandonment…” he intoned. The collected ponies’ reactions were made of equal parts shock, dismay, and bemusement at so blatant a critique of the Princess and her twelve-year disappearance from Canterlot. Starlight didn’t give them a chance to respond, however, instead turning and setting off after Luna.

Catching up to her wasn’t hard; talking to her, however, was, as she appeared to have surrounded herself, out to a twenty-foot radius, in a circle of silence. Starlight briefly considered using the opportunity to ‘voice’ his appraisal of the situation and vent some frustration, but decided against it: just because he couldn’t hear himself when near Luna, didn’t meant that Luna herself was rendered deaf. Instead, he settled on following her, and the two Night Guards that escorted her, to the guest quarters that she had instructed the alicorn and her retainer to be set up in. Once she had arrived, she dispelled her radius of silence and knocked softly on the door.

The brown pegasus – Cartasole, was his name? – answered it within moments, as though he had been waiting for it. His eyes widened at the sight of Luna, widened further at the sight of the pink alicorn draped across her back, but – much to Starlight’s personal dismay – he kept his mouth firmly shut when he noticed that the pink alicorn was sleeping.

“She is fine,” Luna said quietly at a pleading glance from Cartasole, as she stepped into the room, horn glowing and lifting the pink alicorn from her back gently, guiding her to the bed and laying its covers across her prone form. Once she was settled, Luna retreated from the room, beckoning for Cartasole to follow. The pegasus did, but only after checking on the pink alicorn’s sleeping form himself.

“Thy mistress is merely sleeping,” Luna instructed the stallion once he was outside of the room and the door had been partially closed. “We spent the night talking, and flying, and dueling – ”

“What?” Starlight demanded.

Luna shot him a glare, but he had kept his voice down despite emphatically not wanting to, so she couldn’t really admonish him. After a moment, she turned back to Cartasole. “Though Cadenza is an alicorn, she is not my sister. I have known this since we met, but did not wish to immediately disabuse her of her belief – not before getting to know her better.”

Cartasole blinked several times as he took in this information. He looked surprised, but not terribly so, and seemed to be carefully considering what to do next. “I…will attend to her until she wakes,” he said solemnly.

Luna favored the pegasus a thin, but genuine, smile. “Please tell Cadenza, when she is ready, that I can see her at any time she desires.” She paused a moment, then leaned in slightly. “And please, ensure that she does not do something foolish, such as flee Canterlot in shame. She strikes me as the kind who might utterly overreact.”

Cartasole blinked several times at that, as though wondering if he was supposed to be laughing or confirming what the princess said. He settled on a nod, which Luna returned before bidding him leave. Even after he left, however, Luna remained still for some moments, simply staring at the door, before letting out a long sigh and closing her eyes. “I need a drink,” she said softly.

“Majesty…” Starlight said, his voice full of warning. Not that he could meaningfully follow through on any such threat, but the tone and concern was enough.

Luna let out another sigh at that, turning to look at him for a moment. “I have had a long night,” she said, beginning to trot away.

“Majesty, no,” Starlight insisted, galloping ahead of her – much to the consternation of the two Night Guards, still present, although they did not immediately act to stop him. “Thou hast been acting strangely since this Cadenza first arrived. She is but one of nearly three dozen impersonators of thy sister!”

Luna stopped her pace, staring down at Starlight. “She is an alicorn. I promise thee this, Starlight.”

“And I believe thee, Majesty,” Starlight responded. “But that does not change that this alicorn has incited thee to drink, thy first out of turn in years. Thou hast shirked thy responsibilities to the Night Court – ”

Luna rolled her eyes. “A single night will cause no harm – ”

“That does not change that thou hast been doting upon Cadenza like a mother doting upon a newborn foal, when thou hardly knowest her! I apologize, Majesty, but I must insist thou explain thine actions!”

Luna stared at Starlight. The purple unicorn blinked a few times, before remembering exactly who he had just shouted at, and opened his mouth to lamely add a ‘please,’ but then reconsidered and elected not to. Luna had chosen him from amongst a half-dozen potential candidates precisely because he had seemed unafraid to tell Luna when she was being foolish, and eight years of being the majordomo of Canterlot Castle had only increased that tendency in him. Luna had claimed that she valued such honesty from her staff – now seemed as good a time as any to put that to the test.

Luna blinked. After a moment, Starlight did too, glancing around him. He and Luna had moved – they were no longer in the hallways of Canterlot Castle, but rather inside a specific room, one that Starlight had never actually seen before, which given that he was the majordomo of Canterlot, was saying something. The room was shaped like a half-circle, and had a single large window along its curved wall, which showed Canterlot Castle and the city that surrounded it through it, but somehow no sunlight seemed to actually go beyond the sill of the window. The rest of the stone room was cast in dark blue and lit by thousands of glowing gems set into the ceiling – glow-gems which, Starlight realized when he looked at them, moved, heedless of their medium being solid stone. Despite the sheer number of gems, however, each gave off only the barest amount of light, such that the room was only dimly lit.

The room probably had walls, but the walls were completely obscured by shelves, containing trinkets and sundried, baubles and curiosities, far too many for Starlight to properly take them all in, or even a portion of them, except for the strangest – on one shelf, for example, was a pound or two of what looked like perfectly normal dirt. On another shelf, sitting by itself, was what looked like a half-melted golden ring. Beneath that shelf was a large, ornate golden box, and set atop the box was a simple wooden cup. A third shelf held a quartet of simple stones, each with three white lines across them; Starlight wasn’t sure why, but he was certain that there was supposed to be a fifth stone. The shelves and spaces of the room that weren’t occupied by random trinkets, meanwhile, held books, scrolls, clay tablets, and dozens of other writing surfaces, almost none of them in languages that Starlight could read.

The only other notable features of the room were a bed covered in blue sheets, large enough for several ponies – or one or two alicorns – to sleep on comfortably; and a wooden door, set into the center of the room’s straight wall and looking like it could open both ways.

Starlight fancied himself a fairly intelligent unicorn, but even a simpleton could have guessed where he was. “Y…your chambers?” he asked, as he looked around. Eight years, and he had never been in this room. In point of fact, he had at times wondered if this room even existed, wondered if Luna, rather than sleeping confined in a stone castle, instead assumed some ethereal state, or slept within the moon, or something else entirely. And if this was Luna’s room, then the only door of the room wouldn’t lead down, but instead, to…

…Starlight decided that, even if she was safely trapped within the burning heart of the Sun, he had no interest in finding out what Celestia’s former chambers looked like.

Luna nodded, as she trotted over to her bed. Even as she walked, the bed seemed to somehow shift, molding itself from a bed into a comfortable-looking set of sitting cushions, while a similar set, albeit smaller in size, appeared nearby. “Sit, Starlight. Thine indignation is…understandable.”

Starlight shifted in place slightly, before slowly trotting over to the cushions that Luna had created from nothingness and settled down on them, waiting for Luna to begin. The blue alicorn, herself, was staring at the stone floor beneath her, one hoof tracing circles on it, as though she wasn’t sure how to begin the conversation. She opened her mouth several times to do so, but each time closed it again.

Finally, she grit her teeth, closed her eyes, and forced herself to speak. “Corona – Celestia – is stronger than I,” she said. “She hath always been. It is not simply that she is older, for with beings as old as we, what does a few years either way matter? It is simply a part of what she is. And twenty years ago, she had taken the Elements of Harmony and sequestered them away. So, then, Starlight. When she issued her mad decree, when she ordered the outlying provinces to be evacuated, the ponies living there to come to Canterlot – when she sent forth the armies of Equestria to force this relocation, uncaring about the massive loss of life such a displacement would cause – how dost thou suppose that I managed to overcome her?”

Starlight paused at that, considering. He, in fact, hailed from one of those outlying provinces, Xenophon, on the border with the sovereign (though decaying) nation of Latigo. However, at the time, he had been little more than a colt. At length, he shook his head. “I…know not, Majesty. I had heard that thou used magic to split thyself in twain, with one of thee meeting her at her coronation, distracting her, while another part of thee readied the Elements. But…what does that have to do with – ”

Luna’s eyes remained closed. “Patience,” she interrupted. “I will come to that.” She took a moment to gather her thoughts again, before continuing. “Before my sister went mad, I was lonely. I was ignored by the ponies of the world, or so I felt. None cared for the nights that I labored upon. Ponies slept through them and were frightened of the darkness and held the light of the moon and stars in contempt. And I felt envious of my sister, who was always honored, always respected, always so loved by everypony.

“So I began to look at dark magic, to consider the possibilities offered by the vile magic of pacts and blood and the darkness. A plot formed in my head, Starlight, a terrible plot, one I am ashamed to speak of. I planned to overthrow my sister and bring about night eternal.” Luna laughed. “What was it you suggested yesterday? Nightmare Moon? That is what I wished to become, Starlight.

“But then Celestia began falling into insanity. She began taking a harder approach towards our allies, enforcing the laws of the land with greater vigor, creating new ones to control the population. She raised taxes and increased the size of our armies, and would hear advice and council from nopony. And so, slowly, ponies began to approach me, looking for aid, looking for an alternative to Celestia’s increasing intractability.

Luna shook her head. “I…I was so happy, to be needed. Gradually the ponies who came to be were able – though they did not know it – to pull me away from my dark magic. And though they spoke of the increasing harshness of Celestia, around me she still acted as she always had. Maybe a little more weary, a little less patient, but still the Celestia I had known all my life, since I was young, since the world was young.

“But that was not the case. Celestia had lost her mind, becoming Corona. You know what happened next: her order to relocate tens of thousands of ponies from the outer marches to Canterlot, heedless of the mass starvation such a displacement would cause. How I challenged her in the Day Court, how she proclaimed her intention to crown herself as queen. How I stole the Elements and fled before she could slay me in anger.

“But here, common knowledge ends.” Luna opened her eyes, looking at Starlight with a pained expression on her face. “Corona is stronger than I. But there was a possibility, a way to overcome her. The way I had planned to, years earlier.”

Starlight’s eyes widened, and he stiffened. “Dark magic,” he intoned.

Luna’s lips were pressed tightly together. “I split my body and my consciousness – and my power – in two, but not evenly,” she explained. “The vast majority took the Elements to the Everfree Forest and prepared a trap in our old palace there. But the smaller part of me did something else. I – she, really – created a calling circle, and summoned up from Tartaros a being of immense, dark power – a being that could give her the ability to fight Corona on nearly equal terms. Tirek.”

Starlight stood at that, backing away from Luna. “Thou made a bargain with Tirek?” he demanded. Tirek was a demon – there was no other way to describe him – and one of the darkest, vilest creatures that had ever attacked Equestria. Grogar had never stretched his hoof beyond Tambelon; the Smooze, though immensely dangerous, had been contained within a matter of days; but Tirek? Tirek had plagued Equestria for decades on end, manipulating it from the shadows, turning it towards his dark designs, thousands of years ago. It was, in fact, the reason that Celestia and Luna had come to rule Equestria in the first place – to guide it away from the corruption and debasement of Tirek. When he had finally been defeated, he had been cast down into Tartaros, never to harm anypony again, or so Starlight had believed.

Luna, at Starlight’s exclamation, shook her head. “There was no ‘bargain,’ Starlight,” Luna said. “And it was not me. I have never touched the power of Tirek. It was the other part of me.”

Starlight blinked a few times, before slowly – cautiously – sitting back down. “P…prithee, explain,” he begged.

Luna grimaced. “The other me did not make a deal with Tirek. Bound in Tartaros and trapped in a calling circle, he could do nothing to her despite her possessing only a fraction of my total ability. She took his power, left him as little more than a husk, and used that power to become the mare that challenged Corona at her coronation – to become thy Nightmare Moon.”

“It was a gamble. The other me, the Nightmare Moon, though much closer to Corona in terms of power, was still in many ways fundamentally me – could not fight Corona with all her power. But that was never the plan. She guided Corona to the trap I had laid in the Everfree Forest, battling her, weakening her. But there, I trapped not just Corona, but Nightmare Moon as well. I shared thy fears, Starlight. I knew that the black power of Tirek could corrupt me forever. So…when I utilized the Elements of Harmony…it was not solely on Corona. And Nightmare Moon – as she was naught more than a being of black magic tethered to the barest fraction of my existence – was destroyed even as Corona was banished into the sun…or so I believed.”

Starlight stared. “Oh…oh…” he intoned, rocking in place slightly when he realized where Luna’s story was going – how it was going to end.

Luna pressed on anyway. “Some months later, I noticed a gathering power in the Everfree palace, a power enough to pierce through the haze of liquor I was even then drowning myself in. I went there, and felt that power gathering together, coalescing, shaping itself at the site where I had used the Elements of Harmony. I did not know what was forming, but I knew from whence it came: it was an echo, of the part of me that had borne Tirek’s power, the part of me that had been struck by the Elements of Harmony.

“I tried to strike at the gathering power then and there, but the Elements themselves were protecting it. Nevertheless, I resolved that I was going to destroy it when whatever it was finally manifested, rather than risk some vestige of Tirek’s power being set loose upon Equestria. So I waited, for months on end, at the site of my sister’s banishment…”

Luna had not moved for days, instead standing tensed, at the ready. Whatever power was gathering, at the base of the statue that contained the petrified Elements of Harmony, it was coming to a head at long last. It would be mere seconds now before whatever it was, would be made manifest. A demon of some kind? A dark twin to Luna? The Princess of the Night did not know and did not care…

…there was a flash of pink-tinged light. Luna’s horn glowed as she lunged, ready to do battle, ready to strike down the evil made manifest. She had failed Equestria already by not noticing her sister’s fall into madness. She would not fail it again as she reached out with magic, preparing to…

…it was a foal. Her magic, her might, all the power of the Moon and the Stars, was about to come crashing down upon a foal. Luna gasped and pulled back, barely stopping a force that could cleave mountains in half from falling upon its intended target.

Luna stood as still as a rock as she stared down at the foal. The foal, a filly, was small, about the size that would be expected of any newborn pony, covered in a pink coat, with a mane of purple and cream white. Upon its brow was the tiny nub of a horn – while sitting upon its back were a pair of wings that started pink, but gradually faded towards blue towards the tips of its primaries.

The foal lay still on her side for several long moments, before its legs and wings twitched, and its eyes opened, large and purple. Her eyes locked onto Luna, and after a moment, she began kicking and scrambling around, succeeding within moments of lying down upon its stomach, though it seemed to take immense effort. After several long moments of panting, the filly’s hooves scrabbled on the tiles of the courtyard beneath her, trying to stand up. However, she was unable to do much more than barely lift her barrel from the ground – her dock too high in the air while doing so – before stumbling and falling over onto her side. The foal let out a little squeal of surprise at her fall, but seemed otherwise unhurt, sitting up again after a few moments – wings spreading for balance – before trying after several long moments to stand again.

Luna blinked, then grit her teeth and stood firm. “I am – ” she began, drawing upon ancient power to augment her voice such that the whole of the Everfree Forest could hear her. The reaction from the foal was instant, however – she squealed in surprise and fright, falling over onto her side. At first, the filly tried to scramble away from Luna, but tired herself out quickly, and so simply lay on her side, panting and staring at her in wide-eyed fright.

Luna’s scowl deepened. This was a trick. She was faced with a black intelligence that was appearing as a foal, perhaps even was a foal, but was simply trying to prolong its unnatural existence. And even if that wasn’t the case, even if it was just a foal – she was spawned from the black power of Tirek possessing a fraction of Luna and –

– and struck by the Elements of Harmony. Purified. Cleansed of evil and disharmony. Protected these past three hundred days – somewhat shorter than a pony’s normal gestation, to be sure, but not terribly so – by those same Elements from Luna’s every attempt to destroy her.

Luna was not certain how the thought had not occurred to her before now, but when it came, it felt as though a mountain had fallen upon her. The Elements of Harmony had struck the part of her that had carried the power of Tirek. The Elements would have utterly destroyed Tirek’s power – but not the part of Luna that carried it. That part of Luna would have been altered, however, changed – it would not be a true copy anymore, not a part of her that could simply be reclaimed, re-absorbed, but it would be…

Luna fell back onto her haunches, mouth hanging open slightly as she stared at the foal, who had begun to recover from her fright and attempt to stand again. After several moments, she succeeded, wings extended wide for balance, legs spread equally wide. This time, the foal didn’t fall over, though her eyes remained fixed firmly on the ground beneath her.

Then, gradually, she began walking forward. Towards Luna. Towards a being that she owed her existence to, towards a being that she had once been a part of, but from which she was now a separate entity.

Towards a pony that could only be described as her mother – as the filly could be nothing more, nor less, than Luna’s daughter.

9. Abandonment

The filly alicorn reached Luna, and began to nuzzle her leg. This shocked Luna from catatonia; she backed away as though stung by a bee, though bee stings were not normally something she even noticed. The filly let out a cry of fright at Luna’s sudden motion, nearly tumbling over once again, but her extended wings, small though they were, helped her keep balance. However, she also didn’t try to run away, and kept her large, round eyes focused on Luna.

Luna’s own narrowed slightly. This could still be a trick – was probably still a trick. “I am Luna, I am the Night,” she proclaimed, keeping her voice at normal volumes this time, and somehow unable to put true force behind her words. “I am the Shepherd of the Moon, the Tamer of the Stars, and the Sovereign of the Ceaseless Dark. Thou shalt identify thyself.”

The filly was walking forward again, heedless of Luna’s words. Her legs trembled with each step, and her head was bowed as she watched her own hooves working closely – so closely that she didn’t realize she had reached Luna again until she bumped into her and started to tumble. Her fall was broken, however, as Luna reached down with her head and neck instinctively, stopping the filly’s fall as an earth pony mother might with her own foal.

Within a moment, the small alicorn had her legs under her again, but she didn’t move her head from Luna’s own, instead rubbing her head against Luna’s own, eliciting a gasp from Luna. And that was when it struck her a second time, that this filly alicorn was her daughter – that this was not a trick, not some dark creature in disguise, just a foal seeking the comforting touch of her mother. Luna lowered herself onto her barrel, and the filly copied the motion, letting out a sigh as she gave her still new legs and hooves a break. She was still staring at Luna, mostly into Luna’s eyes, but occasionally the filly’s eyes would wander to take in Luna’s wings, her horn, her hooves.

A growling stomach – the filly’s – interrupted the moment. The filly let out a slight whimper at that, but stood up, walking towards Luna, probably looking to suckle – apparently the filly was unaware of the nature of its own “birth,” such as it was; in any event, Luna’s body was completely unable to provide the filly the nourishment she was seeking. That did not mean, however, that Luna herself was unable. Stopping the filly’s walk with one wing – eliciting another whimper from the hungry filly as she did – Luna’s horn glowed a deep blue. The filly’s eyes went wide at the sight, mystified, even more so when Luna created a waterskin from nothingness, a waterskin that was swiftly filled to capacity by magically-created, but no less nutritious, milk. Luna telekinetically waved the waterskin’s nozzle underneath the filly’s muzzle, and once she caught the scent of the waterskin’s contents the filly grasped it tightly in her hooves, then began to drink, settling down next to Luna as she did, pressing against Luna’s barrel. If she was disappointed that her mother was unable to teat-feed her, she didn’t show it, in fact showed the precise opposite when she lay her head against Luna’s side, nestling under her wing.

Before too long, the filly had drunk her fill. Luna nuzzled her after banishing the waterskin and its contents back to the ether, running her muzzle along the filly’s back until she burped. The filly, herself, seemed content to simply lie against her mother, having apparently decided that walking around was too much effort for too little reward.

“Was I ever as small as thee?” Luna asked softly, chuckling slightly as she did. Her daughter stared back at her, her eyes drifting closed, then snapping open, before slowly drifting closed again, as she fought a losing battle against sleep. Luna chuckled once more, nuzzling her daughter, an action that came surprisingly easily. Luna was hardly a virgin – she doubted anypony, anything, could live as long as she had and retain its chastity – but she had never before been a mother, yet she seemed to be taking to it easily enough.

Except one thing, and her eyes widened as she remembered. “A name!” she exclaimed softly, closing her eyes in contemplation as she cast her memory backwards. She may have never been a mother, and to her knowledge, neither had Celestia, but that did not mean that the subject had never come up between the two sisters. At times the two spoke of grave matters, matters upon which the world turned, matters of life and death, order and chaos, good and evil. At other times, they had talked about deep and meaningful things – the meaning of life, the nature of love, the responsibility of an alicorn towards lesser beings.

And, on occasion, they had spoken of nothing of importance at all. How would the ponies’ perception of their rulers have changed if they had ever caught the two discussing their opinions on this mare’s or that stallion’s finely-toned body? Arguing over whether white or red wine was better? Or even something as innocuous as what they would name their foals, if they ever had the time to bear them, or the courage to change their lives so?

Luna couldn’t remember where or when she’d had the conversation with Celestia, other than ‘somewhere’ and ‘a very long time ago.’ But she did remember the conversation itself, and the name she’d want to call a daughter.

“Cadence,” she said softly into the filly’s ear. By now, she had fallen asleep. “Thou shalt be Cadence, little one…”

This changed everything. This filly changed everything in Luna’s life. She had shirked her responsibilities for too long in Canterlot – nearly a year, hardly caring at all for the chaos that must have ensued with Celestia having been banished into the sun and Luna unable to muster the will to continue her regnal duties. She wondered what the political situation in Canterlot was. She didn’t know, but now she had to. She would need to go home, to raise Cadence and…

…and, like a beam of pure moonlight illuminating a path, Luna saw where that would lead. She saw a room, a room full of the finest silks and the softest pillows, with hoof-crafted toys for a foal, for Cadence. She saw Cadence in that room playing there, alone but for servants ordered to wait upon her mouth and hoof. Occasionally Cadence would look up to the door, but she would not see what she was looking for, not see Luna. She would have everything the daughter of a Princess deserved to have – everything but her own mother.

Luna blinked. No. That would not happen. She – she would make time.

Like she had made time for her sister?

Luna stifled a gasp of pain at that. Even now, it hurt, what she had done – what she had been forced to do – how she had been unable, unwilling, to see what had been happening to Celestia. To see the madness in her eyes until it was too late. To pay close attention to the decrees of the Day Court.

Of course it hurt even now. It had only been a year. Compared to how old Luna was, never mind her yet-older sister, what was a year? It was barely a moment. The pain was still fresh, still there…the sudden, unexpected arrival of the foal, of Cadence, had made her forget, truly forget, what she had been forced to do for the good of the world. Banish her own sister into the sun…forever. Even Luna could not undo the magic wrought by the Elements of Harmony.

And for the briefest of moments, Luna looked down at Cadence, now sleeping, in disgust for what the foal had done. For making her forget her own sister. Uncounted millennia simply forgotten, forgotten over what? An accident of their fight? This foal was nothing more than debris, fallout, and yet she had dared to rob Luna of her grief?

It was only for an instant, and in the next instant, Luna found herself nuzzling Cadence again in shock at her own action, needing to feel the foal’s coat and mane, needing to realize where her thoughts had just turned. The only thing Cadence had done was be born, not a natural birth, to be sure, but certainly no crime. She only wanted to be fed and to be close to the pony who she believed to be – who was¸ by any rational examination of the situation – her mother.

Luna closed her eyes. She could not return to Canterlot with Cadence. She could not be both Princess of Equestria and mother of a foal at the same time – but then, that was an easy choice while Cadence was snuggled under her wing, sleeping softly, but nevertheless still instinctively leaning in to her mother’s nuzzling. How could Luna choose anything but the foal?

It would be easy enough to hide, to raise Cadence on her own. She had moved mountains and boiled seas. She had no delusions about the difficulty of being a mother, but she also was completely confident in her ability to rise up to the challenge. Cadence would grow into a fine young mare…

…in a world with Equestria falling apart around her, with the three pony tribes reverting back to the old ways. Once more, Luna saw the possibilities take shape. With Celestia banished, with Luna disappeared, Equestria would crumble, fall apart into petty fiefdoms and weak city-states. Already that was beginning to happen while Luna grieved, and that was with her still visible, still making her presence known on at least some level to forestall arguments over succession – a matter that neither Celestia nor Luna had ever even considered before, as immortal beings had little need to concern themselves about what might happen after they died.

But if Luna disappeared utterly? Equestria, the dream, the union of the three tribes of ponies, would collapse, and its successor states would exist only to be preyed upon by dragons, by griffins, by whatever foul creatures looked at ponies and saw prey.

“No…” Luna breathed, eyes wide as she stared at sleeping Cadence. There was no true choice at all: Equestria had to come first. Luna – she would make every effort to dote upon Cadence. To spend as much time as she could on her, to actually be a part of raising her daughter…raising her in a world of intrigue and corruption. Raise her in a palace surrounded by false masks and political agendas. How old would Cadence be when she survived her first assassination attempt? Would she have even earned her cutie mark before her first attempted kidnapping? Would her teenage years be marked by increasing interest in stallions or mares and an increasing boredom with nobles trying to court her to gain wealth and power and a direct connection to Luna? And what effect would all this have on her?

To Luna, she would be a daughter. To Canterlot? One more political tool, one more weapon to wield against one’s enemies, one more obstacle to overcome by any means necessary. Luna could try to re-organize the government, but it wouldn’t work. It didn’t matter if the governance of Equestria was a monarchy, a republic, an anarchic commune or a rigid tyranny. There would always be ponies more interested in power than in morals.

And then there was immortality to consider…immortality had never bothered Luna. Ponies died and she did not, and that was simply how things worked. She had witnessed friends and, yes, even lovers grow old and wither and pass on, and she had grieved for each one, truly grieved, and she truly missed them all – but then she had moved on from each one, too. Her heart had been wounded, but eventually she had recovered from the wounds, and even the emotional scars faded with distance from the pain. Time truly did heal all wounds.

But Luna was old. Luna remembered observing the first ponies. She had had millennia to simply move amongst them in secret or to watch from afar, to grow accustomed to her own immortality compared to the fleeting lives of ponies. Cadence would not have that luxury. Cadence would grow up around mortals, make mortal friends, take mortal lovers, and watch them as they, one by one, passed beyond the pale – and she remained. In that scenario, under those conditions, Luna could easily see how one could prefer a fleeting life to an eternity of eternities.

Luna felt wetness in her eyes as she stared at sleeping Cadence. She inhaled sharply, biting back her tears, not wanting her daughter to awaken and see her mother crying. Luna could run away with Cadence, and doom Equestria. Or Luna could take Cadence to Canterlot, where she would be a target, where she would watch as everyone she knew withered and died around her, where it was easy to imagine her growing to hate her mother, or at least hold her in contept. And in either case, Luna would be a horrible mother. Most horrible of all, though, was the fact that Luna immediately came up with a third option – the most terrible of all for her, for at least in the previous choices, Luna got to keep Cadence.

But Cadence deserved better than what Luna could give her. If Luna wanted to make any claim of being a good mother, then the third option was the only one she could take.

The journey to Cavallia took a week for Luna to fly. She could have reached it even sooner had she flown at her full speed, but even though she was an alicorn, she doubted that Cadence could bear travelling at supersonic speeds. She also could have reached it even sooner had she not delayed every wing beat, stopped at every large cloud bank or interesting-looking grassy field or lakeside, and allowed Cadence to slide from her back and run around.

Cadence trotted and galloped easily now, of course, though she tired quickly. She seemed to enjoy racing Luna, never mind that a casual trot from the alicorn could beat Cadence’s full gallop. Luna let her win nine times in ten regardless, and when she did not, it was only because she would race ahead and then turn around, waiting for Cadence with wings spread wide and hooves outstretched, and when the foal reached her she would scoop her up and nuzzle her closely.

Cadence’s laugh was the most beautiful sound that Luna had ever heard.

Luna tried to remember what she knew of growing foals. While Cadence was able to run and play, her mind was still developing. She was not yet capable of any kind of speech, instead simply babbling incoherently. She wasn’t even capable of calling Luna ‘mama’ yet – though that, Luna resolved, was probably for the best, given what Luna had to do.

Cavallia was a nation of rolling hills and idyllic valleys to Equestria’s southeast. It bordered Equestria to the north and west, a generally peaceable kingdom called Zaldia to the northeast, and the wide expanses of the Southern Sea to its south. The kingdom had not known war or strife in four centuries, due to being a close ally to Equestria, the mightiest nation on the continent but for the Griffin Empire, and they were located far to the north, and currently dealing with their own internal squabbles besides. Luna was loathe to admit it, but in many ways, Cavallia was a superior nation to Equestria.

Perfect for raising a foal in.

Luna flew deep into the countryside, magic surrounding her to keep ponies from noticing her passage. Cadence lay on her back, asleep, blissfully unaware of what her mother was going to do. What she had to do, to give Cadence the life she deserved.

Luna found her goal soon enough: a vineyard. Cavallian vitners lead the simple, honest lives of a farmer, but their wine, being in high demand across the continent, meant that they could also live lives of relative comfort. Luna spotted the owners of the vineyard from the sky, an earth pony mare and stallion, looking like they had several fillies and colts of their own already – one more would hardly be unwelcome. Her horn glowing, she further used magic to look past their mere physical forms, and into their souls. She found nothing that offended her. Another spell, to read the minds of the ponies below her, found them decent folk, possessed of no hidden agendas or psychoses.

It was not enough. What Luna wanted to do was land amongst them and question them, interrogate them, make them swear ancient oaths to look after and care for her daughter with their lives. But if she did that, she would never be satisfied, and by the time she had finished Cadence would have been a mare in her own right.

Luna landed in an isolated part of the vineyard, using telekinesis to take Cadence from her back and set her onto the ground. This woke up the foal, but she took being disturbed happily enough, trotting up to her mother and nuzzling her closely. Luna returned it eagerly, pulling the filly close to her chest.

“I’m sorry…” she breathed into the filly’s ear, repeating the apology over and over again, though Cadence did not understand a word of it. After several long minutes of holding her daughter close to her, she moved her away, looking Cadence over for a few minutes before closing her eyes, and setting her horn to work. Cadence was once more wrapped in a midnight-blue glow. After a moment, the glow intensified.

Luna’s magic reached up around her daughter’s nub of a horn, incapable of channeling magic of its own yet. Grimacing, Luna willed her magic to flow across the horn like water across a sand castle. It gradually, gently disappeared, Cadence not even noticing it leaving her. Next, Luna moved to Cadence’s wings. These Cadence did notice, and she let out a cry of fright and shock, though the process was not physically painful. Luna nearly stopped there, nearly undid what she had done, but images of the alternate lives Cadence could lead entered her mind, and she forced herself to continue.

If Cadence understood that her own mother had robbed her of her potential for magic and flight, she didn’t show it. Instead, the filly rushed to Luna, hiding beneath her far larger form, not understanding that the changes to her body were being done by Luna herself. The princess ran a hoof across Cadence’s barrel and through her mane, trying to comfort her even as she worked harder. She reached into Cadence now, touching the very core of her being and working as powerful magic as she ever had over the filly. It wasn’t enough to take Cadence’s wings and horn – the disguise, the change, would have to be greater than that. It was not enough for her to look like an earth pony – she had to be an earth pony.

The spell was complicated, but not difficult, not for Luna. In a few moments, Cadence’s very basic nature had been changed, and she was an earth pony – strong, tough, grounded, in-touch with the land…

…and mortal.

Luna’s magic faded. She felt like she had just murdered Cadence, as surely as if she had conjured a blade of steel and plunged it into the filly’s heart. Cadence still pressed close to Luna, trembling, not understanding what had been done to her. “I-it’s f-f-for the b-best,” Luna explained to her daughter, her voice trembling uncontrollably, tears streaming from her eyes. Cadence didn’t understand that, either. She only understood that her mother was here, and she was warm, and that she would protect the filly. In some ways, she wasn’t incorrect.

Luna scooped up Cadence again, holding the filly close to her. For several long minutes she considered never putting Cadence back down, never following through with her mad plan. Even now, it was well within Luna’s ability to restore Cadence, to return to Equestria, to Canterlot. She could try to give Cadence the foalhood she deserved. She should try.

But she would fail, as surely as she had failed her own sister. Luna knew this. Her horn glowed again, once more touching Cadence, this time putting the filly into a deep, peaceful slumber before laying her on the ground, then closing her eyes and reaching out with magic, to the vitners, instilling within them a compulsion to come forward, to this part of the vineyard. She didn’t have to wait long. Within just a few minutes, the two earth ponies had arrived, neither understanding nor questioning their sudden desire. They didn’t notice Luna, for she still had the same perception-altering spell wrapped around her form, but they did see Cadence. The mare of the pair quickly came up to the filly, inspecting her, while the stallion looked around, rearing back onto his hind legs to see if he could find Cadence’s parents, but found nothing.

Luna waited, listening as the vitners spoke to each other. They spoke Cavallian, but language was no barrier for the Princess of the Night. The two ponies swiftly decided to take Cadence back to their house, where the mare would look after her, while her husband went into the nearby village to see if anypony was missing a foal. The stallion gingerly hefted the filly’s sleeping foal with all the care of an experienced father, laying her atop the mare’s back before the two left for their home.

“And what if we cannot find her parents?” The mare asked, as Luna listened closely, the distance they were putting between themselves and where they had found Cadence hardly an impediment to the alicorns’ senses. “Should…should we keep her?”

The stallion was quiet before answering his wife with “we’ll deal with that if we have to.” However, Luna was inside his mind. The answer he gave was not the first one that he had thought of – that had been “of course we will.”

“What shall we call her?” the stallion asked his wife.

Luna reacted before she could, planting the suggestion in the mind of the mare, a compulsion so strong that she could not help but name the foal “Cadence.” Luna had taken so much from the filly – her wings, her horn, her immortality, even her true mother. She could at least leave her with her original name.

Luna lingered for several more minutes, magically observing as the stallion and mare reached their home, showed Cadence to their own colts and fillies. All of the younger ponies acted with concern, and curiosity. The youngest asked if the vineyard was where all foals came from. In any other circumstance, Luna might have laughed at her naivety. As it stood, it was as though it were the signal for her to leave. She took to the skies once more, heading north towards Equestria, and unlike her slow flight into Cavallia, this time she moved as fast as she could, flying as though Discord himself were chasing her. As fast as she flew, however, she could not outrun the knife embedded in her own heart, nor the twin waterfalls that flowed from her eyes.

She managed to cross the border into Equestria, and made it as far north as the province of Palomino before the pain in her chest, the image of Cadence that would not leave her mind, finally became too much to bear. She had to purge all thought from her being before they consumed her and made her do something foolish – something like fly back to Cavallia and take Cadence into her hooves and lay waste to the vitners for daring take her daughter from her. And there was only one way she knew of to do that.

Luna landed in the center of a town she did not bother to recall the name of hard enough to rattle the ground itself and kick up a mighty cloud of dust from its dirt streets. “I AM YOUR PRINCESS AND I DEMAND SUCCOR!” Luna ordered as she stumbled from the dust cloud. Ponies had scattered at her arrival, some pouring from the local tavern, but as Luna approached – head bowed, staring straight ahead like a predator locked onto its prey – they fell back in, away from their princess.

“WINE!” Luna shouted. “MEAD! ALE! SOMETHING! ANYTHING! BRING IT NOW OR SUFFER THE WRATH OF THE PRINCESS OF THE NIGHT!”

10. Departure

Celestia – Cadenza – awoke and immediately wished that she had not. Even after consciousness returned to her, she lay in the bed that she found herself in, lying on her side. Her eyes were open, but she simply stared blankly straight ahead, out a window in the room that showed clear blue skies and a few birds, heedless of the black pit that her life had suddenly become, flitting by every now and then.

“Majesty?” A familiar voice asked when she moved a wing, but only to drag the covers of the bed over her head in disgust at the sight of the beautiful day outside. Cartasole briefly came into view before linen obscured her vision, though she could still see his silhouette on the other side of the sheet. “Majesty, art thou awake?”

“No,” Cadenza responded.

The paradox of her statement failed to confuse Cartasole. “Princess Luna has…informed me of her decision regarding thee.”

Cadenza moved the bedsheet from off of her face, staring at Cartasole for several moments, sitting up and taking in a few breaths. “I…I am not Celestia reborn. Thy contract was gifted to me by the Exarch because he believed that I was. As that is not the case, thy…thy contract is null and void. I release thee from thy indenture. I will see if I can beg money from the Exarch to fulfill thy freedom dues.”

Cartasole blinked a few times, wings ruffling slightly. “Grazi, Majesty,” he said.

Cadenza stared. “I am not Celestia, Cartasole,” she said softly. “Thou dost not need to refer to me as ‘majesty.’” She looked down, at her own hooves. “Thou dost not need to refer to me as anything at all. I am nothing.”

Cartasole shook his head. “I do not believe that.”

The alicorn looked up, glaring. “Without...without being Celestia reborn, I am nothing. I have nothing, I deserve nothing. I am just, just a stupid filly who thought that she couldst masquerade as – ”

“Princess Luna wishes to see thee at thy earliest convenience,” Cartasole interrupted.

Cadenza blinked, not certain if she could remember when the last time Cartasole had interrupted her was. Then again, he had just been released from his contract…he was his own pony now, and Cadenza was nothing. She nodded, standing glancing at herself in the mirror, before trudging from the room, head held low enough that the end of her mane brushed the stone floor beneath her and not caring about the numerous small bruises on her body from her duel with Luna, her ruffled and somewhat tangled mane, nor even her bare flank. She noticed, after a moment, that Cartasole was following her.

“Thou dost not have to wait upon me hoof and mouth anymore,” she noted.

“Well,” Cartasole said, “as thou hast released me from my contract, I am now, in fact, unemployed. So I wonder if thou shalt be in need of a retainer?”

“No,” Cadenza intoned, looking straight ahead as she wandered aimlessly through Canterlot. She had no idea where she was going. She probably could have stopped and asked any of the servants of Canterlot that she was passing as to where Luna was, but she found she didn’t care. “I don’t need anything. I shan’t need anything.”

“Thou art still an alicorn.”

“So?” Cadenza demanded, turning to glare at Cartasole. “What does that even mean? I’ll tell you: nothing!” She turned from Cartasole and began trotting again. “Luna does not rule Equestria because she is an alicorn. She earned it. Earned it because of who she is, not what she is. Celestia as well, before she went mad. Me? I am nothing, I have nothing!” She turned once more on Cartasole. “Every gift of Cavallia, of the Exarch, was given to me because of what I was thought to be. Every meal, every dress, thy own contract! Because I was to be a Princess!”

Cadenza turned from Cartasole again, but didn’t resume her halfhearted search for Luna. Instead, she cantered over to a window and collapsed in front of it, laying her head on its sill and staring out at the decaying, half-empty city of Canterlot. “I have to go back to my family,” she said softly. “I must tell them that the Exarch was wrong. What then? Am I to be a vitner again?” She chuckled. “Ten-odd years of living like a princess. Now I shall go back to being a farmer. Oh well…most don’t even get that. I suppose I should count myself as lucky. Ten-odd years of living like a princess…and now an eternity of being a vitner as penance for my presumption. I wasn’t very good at it. Except stomping grapes, I suppose. But anypony with good legs can do that. Otherwise I was never very good at making wine, or growing grapes. I wasn’t bad…just not good.”

Cartasole stared at Cadenza, sitting on the floor of Canterlot, wings sagging, staring ahead with glassy eyes: the perfect image of depression. After several long moments, she cast her glance at the pegasus, though she didn’t move her head. “Wherefore at thou still here?” she asked.

Cartasole offered a shrug. “If my contract is terminated, then I can be anywhere I like,” he said, trotting over to Cadenza and sitting down next to her. “Majesty – ”

“Stop that.”

“I don’t call thee Majesty because I think of thee as a Princess,” he said. “I call thee Majesty because of who thou art.”

“I am nothing.”

Cartasole frowned deeply at that. “Oh?” he asked. “So only because thou believed thyself to be Celestia didst thou stand tall against the Princess of the Night just yesterday for my sake.” Cadenza eyed him as he continued. “Only because of that didst though charge Luna herself to see that I was not arrested.”

Cadenza blinked a few times. “N…nay,” she said softly. “’Twould not have been right…thou were there only because of me.”

“Seems the actions of a true princess,” Cartasole insisted. “If I may use thy own words…thou art not what thou believed thyself to be. But thou art still thyself. It does not matter if thou shalt become a Princess or not. Thy actions, thy heart, is far more important than thy name or heritage.” He drew back, wings spread a bit in pride. “Thou shalt remain a Princess in mine eyes, even if in no one else’s – even if not in thy own. Not because of what thou art, but because of who.”

Cadenza looked away, back out at the decaying city of Canterlot, and Cartasole sighed, his own wings sagging slightly – at least until one of Cadenza’s large, swan-like wings reached out and folded around him, drawing Cartasole into a deep hug. The pegasus didn’t hesitate at all in returning it as tightly as he could.

The room was large, made of polished marble with a floor of smooth granite, and with tall windows filled with stained glass lining its walls, the windows depicting great events in Equestrian history, and pillars decorated with ancient writings outlining the fundamental laws of Equestria, by what right the Princess reigned and the fundamental expectations of each of the three pony tribes. It had a long, thick red carpet running through its middle, leading up to a raised platform that one had to ascend a dozen wide steps to reach the summit of.

But, the room could not properly be called the throne room, not anymore, as it lacked what should have been its defining feature. Nopony yet knew what had happened to the golden throne from which Celestia, during the day, and Luna, at night, had once reigned over the Courts. It had simply disappeared at some point during the twelve-year absence of Luna from Canterlot, and had not turned up – not that anypony was looking particularly hard for it, it being made of that metal which was now anathema within Canterlot, and was slowly becoming such throughout the rest of Equestria as well, as well as the throne having been long associated with Celestia over Luna. With the coffers of the royal treasury being emptied as soon as they were filled to pay for repairs and reparations throughout Equestria, it would not soon be replaced.

True, Luna could have conjured a throne for herself out of pure magic, but something seemed wrong about that. The throne had to be forged by ponies, belong, fundamentally, to ponies, not to her. As it stood, she rarely held Court these days anyway, what with so few nobles coming to Canterlot, and her being busy with more involved affairs of state anyway that usually required access to maps, charts, and ledgers which were simply easier to keep near the library, where she instead more frequently met with her council.

This, of course, made the throne room an ideal hiding spot. Her chambers were unreachable except by teleportation or flying through the window, but there were several systems in place by which ponies could contact her in there if need be. The throne room, on the other hoof, lacked such systems. Here, she could be alone with her thoughts, at least provided none of the servants came in to give the place a dusting, something which happened only every week or so anyway.

She had left Starlight Shine in the balcony room, where he might consider all that she had told him, revise his opinions on her, decide how he wanted to handle the new information available to him. She had lingered only long enough to have him swear to breathe not a word of what she had told him to anypony, as long as he lived. He made the promise easily enough, but Luna estimated there being even odds as to whether he would remain in her service, or leave Canterlot and return to his home on the border of the province of Xenophon and the decaying nation of Latigo. If he did leave, she supposed she would have to give him some kind of reward for his years of loyalty…

The doors to the throne room opened. Luna sighed, looking behind her – and froze when she saw who was approaching her: Cadance. A vague part of her mind marveled at the fact that this was the second time that her unknowing daughter’s appearance had managed to shock her into immobility, but for the most part, she just stared.

Cadance looked a mess, having not yet cleaned herself from the contests of the previous night. Her mane was tangled, her coat ruffled, there were light bruises across her body…but her eyes held a look of surprising determination, not the utter defeat and nihilism that they had held just this morning after she had emerged from the heart of the sun and her encounter with Corona – with her mad aunt.

Luna forced movement into her limbs, forced herself to overcome her shock. She had been sitting at the base of the steps that would have led to the throne, if it had been there, but as Cadence neared she stood. “Cadenza,” she said, by way of greeting.

She resisted the urge to cringe at the name, as she had every time she’d said it or heard it previously. There was nothing wrong with it, it was beautiful in its own way, but it was not what she had named her…in her distraught state twenty years ago, she had not been careful enough, it seemed, in implanting Cadance’s name into her adoptive mother’s mind. She truly had given nothing to her own daughter – not even her name…

Cadance stopped before Luna, considering a moment, before bowing deeply. That hurt Luna even more, and the elder alicorn quickly trotted up to Cadance. “No,” she insisted. “No, don’t bow to me. Never bow to me. I don’t…thou dost not have to.”

Cadance rose, and to Luna’s infinite relief she seemed to do so not because of Luna’s command, but rather because she understood that as an alicorn herself, she was more like Luna’s equal, and certainly not her subject. Cadance seemed to be gathering her thoughts, preparing to say something profound. “I am returning to Cavallia,” she said at length, glancing to Luna as though seeking approval.

Luna died inside. She did not let it show, however, instead simply nodding. “To thy…thy parents,” she responded.

Cadance nodded as well, looking down. “There is no reason for me to be in Equestria if I am not Celestia,” she said.

There is thy mother! Luna wanted to cry out. But she didn’t.

“I…I must return to Cavallia. I must…think. I must think about a great many things, about myself, about…about where I intend to go. What I intend to do with my life, if I am not to guide the Sun.”

“I understand,” Luna said softly. “When dost thou intend to leave?”

“As soon as possible,” Cadance said. “I do not think it would be good for me to linger here. I dreamed of living here, with thou as my sister…I do not think it would be healthy for me to remain here, so close to that dream. Not now. With thy permission, I should like to leave immediately.”

Luna wanted to deny Cadance that permission, but instead found herself nodding her head. Cadance…she had a lot to deal with now. Too much. She did not need to have her true heritage added to that load. She didn’t need to have Luna break down in front of her, to cry, to wail, to beg forgiveness for what she had done twenty years ago. She needed to see Luna as she envisioned Luna to be: strong, resolute, unflappable.

Luna could be that, if that was what her daughter needed her to be. Cadance turned around, setting off for the entrance to the throne room head held high. Luna stood firm herself.

But she knew it wouldn’t last. She knew, as surely as she knew anything, that once Cadance had left Canterlot, it would begin again. She would head down into the bowels of Canterlot Castle, to the wine cellar, and woe to any pony who tried to stop her. She would drink herself into oblivion to forget the pain in her chest, the pain she would now carry with her through eternity. And she would crawl from that oblivion only to seek out more wine, more alcohol of any variety, to try and drown the sorrow that Cadance didn’t ever need to see.

Because if Cadance wasn’t near, the Luna simply couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t run Equestria, not without her sister to provide the same solid rock that she was providing for Cadance right now, not without utterly shattering Cadance’s perceptions of the world by revealing everything. Luna wasn’t strong enough, she just couldn’t –

Cadance stopped her trot, turning around to look at Luna. “But,” she said, her voice hopeful. “But…I wonder if I might visit? Every now and then? I cannot bear to be in Equestria now, but…but later?”

Luna stared at Cadance as though the younger alicorn had just lit up with all the bright, comforting warmth of the sun. “Of course,” she answered softly. “Thou shalt always be welcome here. Always.”

Cadance offered a smile at that. It wasn’t a particularly bright one, but – but for a moment – Luna didn’t see her as she was. She saw a small filly, with only a nub of a horn and tiny wings, standing on shaking, new legs, and looking at Luna as though she were the whole world.

It was only an instant. In the next, Cadance was as she was supposed to be, walking from the throne room, closing the door behind her. Luna lasted only another moment, only long enough to magically shield the door against any attempt to open it, before her legs gave out, and she fell to the floor, tears flowing freely from her eyes, but not tears of despair.

She could do it. She could bear the pain in her chest, she could continue to reign over Equestria without her sister. She couldn’t tell Cadance of her heritage now – but one day. And Luna could soldier on for that day. It would not be easy. But it would be worth it.

Cadenza paused just outside of the throne room after having closed its doors behind her. She didn’t know why Luna had seen fit to stand in there alone, and hadn’t wanted to ask. She supposed a being as ancient as Luna could have any number of quirks – she idly wondered if she’d pick up a few of her own as time went by.

It was not, however, Luna’s quirks that had given Cadenza pause. Instead, it had been the look that Luna had affixed her with. Up until that moment, Luna had always appeared stoic, content, sure of herself, sure of everything around her. She was a solid rock of a being. But for just a moment, Cadenza thought she had seen a chink in that solid rock, and Luna had looked at her with…

Cadenza wasn’t sure what the emotion was, other than overwhelming, to the point where it seemed as though the young alicorn could actually feel it. She was half-tempted to knock on the throne room’s door and inquire about what she had just seen, but decided against it.

Cartasole – her loyal retainer no longer, but still her loyal friend, as he had always been – had waited outside the throne room for her. She looked to him with an expression that was half-smile, and half determination. “Let’s go home, Cartasole,” she said. “The Princess has enough on her mind without me around to add more to it.”

980 Years Later

Ditzy Doo fidgeted, adjusting the necklaces she wore. The Element of Kindness was a primal force of creation, residing within her and focused through the gilt jewelry that now adorned her neck. The other necklace was a simple yellow gem on a silver chain, a gift from her daughter. One was a priceless artifact. The other had cost just under a hundred bits. Ditzy Doo was proud to wear one, and treasured the other one immeasurably.

The two did not, however, want to be worn at the same time, if the way they kept catching in her coat was any indication. Even worse – from a metaphysical standpoint – the Element of Kindness’ necklace was the one making the two of them a problem, as on its own her daughter’s gift was light as a feather and always unobtrusive. One would think that the primal forces of creation would had the good sense to fashion themselves into something easy to wear. The forces of creation did not.

Still, bad though it was, Ditzy Doo felt even worse for Trixie, the only one of the six of them not to have a necklace. The blue unicorn wore the diadem that was the Element of Magic’s focus, the impressiveness of which was exceeded, according to Trixie, only by its weight, not to mention it completely lacking balance, trying to fall off her head if she tilted it too far left, right, forward, or backwards.

“Who designed these?” Cheerilee demanded in a whisper as she resisted the urge to fiddle with her own Elemental focus. The Element of Laughter was slightly larger than the Element of Kindness, to account for the fact that Cheerilee, as an earth pony, was broader and taller than Ditzy Doo. It was not, however, large enough to account for the fact that Cheerilee’s coat was additionally somewhat longer and thicker than was typical for an earth pony; as a result the focus for the Element of Laughter was doing its best to strangle her – not a very good attempt, but still considerably more of one than one normally expected from an inanimate object.

“Shh,” Trixie insisted, casting a sideways glare at Cheerilee. Cheerilee looked suitably admonished, as she remembered where she, Ditzy, Trixie, and the other three Elements – Raindrops, Lyra, and Carrot Top – were: the vast courtyard of Canterlot Castle, where the whole of the Night Court had been gathered. Specifically, the six of them were occupying a position of honor, standing in front of the great mahogany doors that allowed passage into the castle itself – and, not coincidentally, standing to Luna’s right hoof side as the Night Court awaited the arrival of the Cavallian envoy that was even now making its way through the streets of Canterlot and to the impressive front gates set into Canterlot Castle’s thick walls.

Laid out before Ditzy Doo were the assembled nobility and upper crust of Canterlot, the duchesses and barons, margraves and viscounts, and even a viceroy or vicereine here or there. Each were dressed in finery that probably cost more than Ditzy Doo made in an entire year, and it made Ditzy feel extremely under-dressed for the occasion, despite the fact that she was wearing the finest dress that Carousel Boutique could produce. The clothier that owned Carousel Boutique, Rarity, had practically jumped at the occasion to design dresses fit for such a formal gathering, even more so when she had been informed by Trixie that her budget for doing so would be essentially unlimited, as the Princess herself was commissioning the dresses that the six Elements of Harmony now wore, wanting them to look their absolute finest. Even Trixie, normally adamantly opposed to dresses for some reason that she refused to explain, was wearing one, stating that as much as she hated wearing dresses, she knew better than to go against the wishes of Princess Luna herself where the Cavallians – the oldest and staunchest allies of Equestria – were concerned.

For that matter, Princess Luna’s dress outdid even their own, consisting of a long train and cape of the deep yet translucent blue that shimmered and sparkled under its own magic, her normally silver slippers replaced by ones of deep blue with filigree that traced their way up her legs. Her mane, too, was different in appearance; while it still moved and rippled like water catching a reflection of the starry night sky, it was both longer, and thinner. Her chestplate had been replaced by a silver, glowing sash patterned like the moon, while her obsidian-black crown seemed to have grown taller.

Ditzy Doo thought that the Princess looked nervous, but was certain she was imagining things. Luna was speaking with a Night Guard in hushed tones; though Ditzy Doo couldn’t make out the words, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the Princess was probably grilling the poor pony on all the preparations and accommodations for the Cavallians, making sure that everything she could think of was in tip-top shape.

“Hey, that pony looks familiar,” Raindrops noted, nodding out towards the Night Court. The various nobles were milling about, no doubt discussing matters of grave importance and playing their shadowy games even now.

Trixie and Ditzy Doo both followed Raindrops’ gaze. “That’s Night Light,” Trixie said softly after a moment. “Viceroy of Latigo. Probably the single most powerful noble in the Night Court. Plus his son, Shining Armor, is captain of the Royal Guard.”

“I was actually talking about the mare next to him. The one with the purple-and-white mane. She…she kind of looks like Twilight Sparkle.”

"Yeah..." Carrot Top said, "I was notcing that..."

“Hmm? Oh, that’s Twilight Velvet, Night…Light’s…wife…” Trixie trailed off, squinting at the viceroy and vicereine for a few moments, before her eyes widened in shock. As if to cement a point, Night Light happened to look up from a conversation he was having with another noble, this one an old-looking pegasus Trixie had previously identified as Vicereine Puissance. The look that he gave Trixie spoke volumes, and Trixie quickly glanced away and back to her friends. “I…I think that Twilight Sparkle and Night Light might be related,” she said softly.

“Daughter, if I was guessing, given how much Velvet looks like her,” Lyra said, stepping closer to Trixie, the other four Elements doing likewise. “You okay?”

“Not really,” Trixie said, her voice notably lacking emotion, probably because otherwise all it would have held was panic. Ditzy guessed that images of what had happened only a scant few weeks ago were dancing through her head: her rebuke of Twilight, Twilight bringing a mythical Star Beast, an Ursa Minor, into Ponyville to try and make a point about real magic, the Ursa slipping from her control and going on a rampage, and then Trixie and Twilight having to work together to banish it back to where it came – and afterwards, Twilight fleeing Ponyville and Trixie reporting the whole thing to Princess Luna, necessarily turning Twilight into a wanted fugitive in Equestria. Trixie had already come away from that looking visibly upset, as she bore at least some responsibility for driving Twilight to attempting to control a Star Beast and Luna had not been happy with her – but far more of the blame lay on Twilight Sparkle.

Ditzy gave Trixie a friendly nuzzle. “He can’t do anything though, right?” she asked. “I mean…Twilight’s the one that recklessly endangered ponies – ”

“And I’m the one that reported her,” Trixie interrupted.

“That shouldn’t matter,” Ditzy said. All she received in response was a look from Carrot Top, Lyra, and Trixie, all three of which had so far been attempted victims in the shadowy games played by the Night Court. For that matter, all their lives had become much more complicated as of late.

“Maybe you should apologize?” Ditzy asked.

Trixie blinked a few times. “Apologize? Apologize for what? ‘Oh, sorry, Night Light, your daughter brought a bear into town for Stars know what reason after I humiliated her, and yeah, she also helped me get rid of it, but that was only after she lost control, and yeah, I tried to talk to her afterwards, but she just teleported away! Great job raising that filly!’”

Ditzy focused both her eyes on Trixie. It wasn’t easy with her strabismus, and it tended to sting her eyes and make them tear up if she did it for too long, but she also noticed that she tended to get through to ponies when she did. This time was no different, as Trixie let out a sigh. “You’re…yeah, you’re right. I’m going to go and try…” she bit her lip and stepped down from the stairs, trotting towards the viceroy with notable nervousness but equally notable determination.

She never got the chance. Night Light and Twilight Velvet both noticed her approach, scowled almost as one, excused themselves from talking with Puissance, and disappeared into the Court. Trixie froze a moment in surprise, looking as though she might consider chasing them down, but then there was the sound of trumpets from the castle’s gates. Ditzy looked, and saw a white stallion dressed in ornate, silver armor – Shining Armor, the captain of the guard and apparently Night Light’s son – standing just inside the portcullis that guarded the entrance to Canterlot. He had been escorting the Cavallian envoy through the city, to the castle’s gates.

“Your Majesty,” Shining Armor proclaimed once the conversations of the nobles had died down and Trixie had rejoined Luna and the rest of the Elements on the steps leading into the castle proper. “Her Highness the Princess of Cavallia requests permission to enter Canterlot Castle.”

The request was pure pomp and circumstance, of course; even Ditzy, who hardly considered herself politically adept, knew this. Luna bowed her head. “Allow her passage, captain,” she responded.

Shining Armor bowed his head, then turned and nodded to the guards manning Canterlot’s portcullis. The message was passed along to the gatekeepers, who began opening the portcullis immediately, its thick bars rising swiftly and revealing the Cavallian envoy that lay behind it.

The first to enter were a dozen honor guards, four from each tribe of pony. Gold had never become as anathema within Cavallia’s borders as it had within Equestria’s, and as a result the guards were dressed in ceremonial armor of gold and purple, with helmets that forwent the head-crest of Equestrian armor in favor of purple-and-gold tassels, and the armor itself etched with ornate designs of lions on the prowl and eagles in flight and dragons reigning from mountaintops.

Once the honor guard had assumed positions lining the procession grounds, Shining Armor appeared again. “My Empress Luna,” Shining Armor proclaimed over trumpets that began once again, “I present to you Mi Amore Cadenza – Exarch and Princess of Cavallia!”

“Empress?” Ditzy asked softly, as Shining Armor rattled off several more titles.

“The Princess is the ruler of a few other nations as well as Equestria,” Cheerilee quickly explained in a low voice. “She’s technically the Empress of Cavallia, and Cadenza rules it in her name as her exarch. Since she’s receiving Cadenza, it’s proper to refer to Luna as Empress right now.”

“Oh,” Ditzy said, pretending to understand the need for that as Mi Amore Cadenza stepped into view. The Princess was taller than many stallions, though if Ditzy were forced to guess, she’d say that she wasn’t quite as tall as Luna herself. Like Luna, she was a true alicorn, possessing both wings and a horn, but Cadenza’s wings were longer and narrower, like those of a swan. Her coat was pink, though her feathers faded to blue at their tips, while her mane was a mixture of purple, pink, and cream. She wore a purple-and-gold dress of the same hues and gilt finery as her royal guard, with a high, flared collar and long train that started out white but gradually faded towards purple, then blue towards its end, the design shimmering with magic. Set atop her head was a three-pointed golden crown encrusted with purple gemstones.

Ditzy blinked a few times as she took in Cadenza. Gold was anathema within Equestria, but some ponies, such as Lyra, could still pull it off without reminding ponies of Corona. But Cadenza almost seemed to be invoking the image of sunset or sunrise – and she managed to do it without looking threatening. If there was supposed to be an alicorn in charge of the sun, then clearly that alicorn was supposed to be Princess Mi Amore Cadenza.

The Princess of Cavallia approached with her wings wide and a bright smile on her face. Shining Armor followed alongside, eyes alternating between looking straight ahead, and glancing sidelong at Cadenza. Ditzy was fairly certain she recognized the look he was giving her – and despite herself, Cadenza was taking note of Shining Armor as well. When the two of them reached Luna, Cadenza turned to Shining Armor to formally thank him for the escort. Her eyes lingered on his own for several seconds longer than was probably necessary, however – and her pink coat didn’t hide her blush at all.

Ditzy wondered if she’d just witnessed the beginning of a scandal. Glancing at Luna, she saw that the Princess of Equestria – and apparently Empress of Cavallia – had a broad, warm smile on her face. “Princess Cadenza,” Luna said. “I bid you welcome to Canterlot Castle.”

“Empress Luna,” Cadenza returned. She didn’t bow, which surprised Ditzy, but she did incline her head, as Luna did likewise. Her voice was light and smooth, sounding more like it came from a pony that had only just reached adulthood than a nearly millennium-old alicorn, while also possessing a notable Cavallian accent. “I am grateful for your hospitality. I hope that my time here can be spent re-affirming old bonds of loyalty and friendship between Cavallia and Equestria. I am certain that, as long as we stand together, the Tyrant Sun can present no threat to the ponies of either of our nations.”

“I am certain of this as well,” Luna said, as she raised a hoof and indicated the Elements, starting with Trixie, who seemed to have recovered from her shock at discovering Viceroy Nightlight, at least on the outside. “I should like to introduce you to the ponies who now bear within them the Elements of Harmony, who ended Corona’s attempted coup less than a day after it began. You know my student, Trixie Lulamoon, already. She bears the Element of Magic.” Luna continued down the line. “Lyra Heartstrings is a musician, and holds the Element of Loyalty. Raindrops, the weather pony, bears the Element of Honesty. Cheerilee is a teacher and bears the Element of Laughter. Carrot Top is a farmer, and bears the Element of Generosity. And, last but by far not least, Ditzy Doo is a member of the Equestrian postal service, and holds the Element of Kindness.” Ditzy endeavored to try and keep both her eyes focused on Cadenza without letting her effort show. She was fairly certain she succeeded.

Cadenza acknowledged each of the Elements as Luna named them. “I am glad to meet the six mares who laid the Tyrant Sun low,” she said. “When she escaped her prison, I feared that Cavallia would have to march to war to restore the Equestrian throne to its rightful ruler. I am glad that you made this unnecessary.”

Ditzy’s left eye slid out from her control, rebelling against the strain of holding it in place. To her relief, Cadenza didn’t react at all to her strabismus – she supposed a thousand-year-old being had probably seen far stranger things than misaligned eyes. Ditzy’s left eye, however, did allow her to look at Princess Luna. The Princess was still smiling, a soft, honest smile rather than a wide, plastered-on grin that politicians and nobility so often wore. It was a smile of contentment rather than happiness that she focused on Cadenza, one that looked familiar…

…actually, it looked decidedly familiar. It was a smile that Ditzy herself wore whenever she looked to her daughter, Dinky Doo, currently back in Ponyville with her half-sister Sparkler. It was a smile that Ditzy had seen on dozens of other mothers when they saw their children happy…

Ditzy blinked a few times as a stray thought entered her mind, one that seemed impossible, if for no other reason than the fact that Ditzy couldn’t even begin to guess who Cadenza’s father was. Then again, she wasn’t the best at history…Cadenza had, by now, turned back to Luna. “Now then,” Luna said to Cadenza, “might I suggest that we head indoors? I have had a great feast prepared for you and the rest of your envoy. I am certain that after your journey here, you must be quite hungry.”

“Indeed we are,” Cadenza said, looking behind her and saying something in Cavallian. As one, her honor guard turned and began marching forward in perfect unison, following Luna, Cadenza, and the Elements as they entered Canterlot Castle, the Night Court following quickly after.

“Hey, Cheerilee, I have a question,” Ditzy said, catching up to the teacher, as Ditzy supposed that she was the most likely to have the answer Ditzy sought.

“Yes?” Cheerilee asked.

“Is Cadenza Luna’s daughter?”

Cheerilee blinked a few times. “I…don’t know. I don’t think so. Why?”

“Just a sort of feeling I was getting from Luna, that’s all. Maybe I should ask Trixie…” Ditzy looked up, looking around for Trixie, but found that instead her eyes – both of them – were drawn to Luna, who had stopped trotting at the door to Canterlot’s dining hall and was staring at Ditzy, while Cadenza was speaking with Trixie about something or other. It was only for a moment, and Luna quickly looked away, back to Cadenza as the doors to the dining hall opened – but Ditzy felt a shiver go down her spine.

Maybe she wouldn’t ask Trixie…

Halfway through the feast – which contained more food in a single place than Ditzy had ever seen before, and that included the vast apple fields of Sweet Apple Acres – Ditzy had just about managed to forget about her feeling and her intent to ask Trixie about Cadenza and Luna, when a maroon-coated waiter approached Ditzy at her table with the other Elements. “Miss Doo?” He asked. “There is a message for you, from a mister Silver Script. If you would just follow me…?”

Ditzy blinked at the mention of Silver Script, the post master of Ponyville and her boss. She couldn’t even begin to think of what would have been so important that Silver Script would feel a need to contact her now, of all times. Her thoughts immediately turned to her daughter – but if Dinky was in some kind of trouble, she was certain that Sparkler would let her know.

Unless something happened to her as well…Ditzy stood, casting a nervous glance at her friends. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“I was told that it was no cause for worry, ma’am, but that it was urgent,” the waiter said. Ditzy calmed at that, following the waiter as he escorted Ditzy from the dining hall to what seemed to be an informal meeting room, with a pair of couches and a low table, with large windows facing out and overlooking the Equestrian countryside. The room was devoid of ponies, however. Ditzy blinked a few times in confusion, turning around to ask the waiter what was going on – and finding the waiter glowing a deep, midnight blue. With a slight flash, the waiter was replaced by Princess Luna, devoid of her dress and even her normal royal regalia, including her crown. She was instead wearing a deep frown that managed to be creased with worry.

Ditzy’s eyes widened as Luna took a step forward, wings spread wide. “How did you find out?” Luna asked. Her voice was not loud, but it was insistent – and it was, again, tinged almost with panic.

Ditzy blinked. When Luna had suddenly manifested, stories of the dark games of the Night Court came to her mind, and she’d despite herself imagined that Luna, that the Princess of the Night, might be about to do any number of horrible things to her. Instead, Luna seemed more like a parent who was worried that their foal was about to find out that they were adopted.

Or really, Ditzy supposed, the opposite of that, given that Luna could be referring to only one thing. “I…I just got a feeling,” she said softly, shying away from the princess. Luna seemed to notice the effect she was having on Ditzy Doo, and backed off, tucking her wings away. “The way you were looking at her, I didn’t know, but why does…?”

Luna had looked away from Ditzy, trotting past her – giving the pegasus a wide berth so as to allow her to get over her shock, and heading over to the windows. Ditzy watched her closely. “…I’m not the only one who doesn’t know,” Ditzy surmised.

Luna looked to Ditzy, pain visible on her face. The last time Luna had looked like this, she had been witnessing her sister, Corona, the Tyrant Sun, promising her fire and destruction. “This…this is not the first time this has happened,” Luna said, turning to face Ditzy. “You are right, Cadance does not know, and I would like to keep it that way. So…so what will it take to keep this secret?”

Ditzy stared. “Cadance?” she asked.

Luna said something under her breath as she looked away. “Cadenza. I had originally named her Cadance, but her adoptive parents…” she looked back to Ditzy. “It is a very long story.”

“And there’s other ponies that know?”

“Nopony alive.”

Ditzy blinked a few times at that, backing a step away and wings raising slightly. Luna realized her faux pas immediately, and her own eyes widing. “N-not like that!” she said, holding out a hoof. “Remember that Cadenza and I are very old. The last pony to ‘get a feeling’ like you have was more than a century ago now. As I recall he died in his sleep, surrounded by friends and family, after a long and full and wealthy life.”

Ditzy blinked again at that. “Are…are you trying to bribe me, Princess?”

Luna stared at Ditzy, not answering the question. Ditzy matched the stare, much to her own surprise. “Why don’t you want Princess Cadenza to know that you’re her mother?”

Luna looked to Ditzy Doo again, as though considering. At length, she sighed, closing her eyes. “A thousand years ago…” she began…

Luna had told this story far too often over the centuries for her comfort. Granted, even telling it once was more than she had ever wanted to tell it. By now, she’d seen every possible reaction under the sky: surprise, grief, outrage, opportunism, understanding…it was this last that Ditzy Doo seemed to display as Luna told her of the fight with Corona, the Elements, the gathering of power, the appearance of the alicorn filly that Luna would try – and fail – to name Cadance…and then later, their first meeting, how Cadance believed herself to be Celestia returned, how she had tried so hard to make Luna believe something that she knew was untrue from the beginning, the constant struggle that Luna underwent to resist revealing everything to her…

Ditzy was quiet as Luna finished speaking. The pegasus mare could never be bribed, Luna realized now. Not over something like this. In truth, she’d figured as much from the moment she’d tried, but Luna had been surprised by ponies in the past, in both good ways and bad ones. If it kept her secret, then Luna would do anything.

At length, Ditzy looked to Luna with her left eye, her right eye having drifted off to stare at the wall. “But…” she said. “But why doesn’t Cadance know now?”

Luna resisted the urge to thank Ditzy for using Cadance’s original name – the name she’d always have in Luna’s mind and heart. The two were now sitting on the couches in this parlor, Ditzy on one and Luna on another. “What do you mean?”

“Princess, it’s been nearly a thousand years everything you told me happened. I don’t know how often Cadance has visited, but it’s got to be a lot. Not to mention I’m certain you’ve gone to Cavallia. So why haven’t you told her?”

Luna looked down, closing her eyes. She’d become quite adept at fighting back tears over the years. “Because…because the next time I saw Cadance, she’d earned her cutie mark. She was in love – with Cartasole, I'm sure you'll be happy to hear. She was so happy, and I didn’t want to risk ruining that. Then the next time I saw her, they had adopted foals, and…”

Luna shook her head. “One reason or another. I was hardly going to tell her at Cartasole’s funeral…or the funerals of her own children. She was distraught for a long time before recovering, she seemed so fragile…and then…then even after she seemed strong enough, the time was never…never right.”

“Never right?” Ditzy echoed.

Luna grimaced. “What…what if I tell her, and she hates me, Ditzy Doo? By the time she was strong enough, nearly two centuries had passed. Then the third came and went…the fourth, when I considered again…the seventh…” Luna’s wings fluttered. “I…I have grown comfortable with this routine. I hate it…but to disrupt it would change everything.”

“And that’s not good?”

“It might be. Or…or it might be terrible.” She looked to Ditzy. “I am immortal. So is Cadance. Every day we wake up with the whole of our lives in front of us. And an immortal can carry a grudge…can carry hate…for a very, very long time. She need never reconcile with me.”

Ditzy stared. “You really think your own daughter could do that to her mother?”

“I wouldn’t be her mother. I would be a pony who has chosen to shatter utterly her world view.”

Ditzy blinked a few times at that, before letting out a sigh. “Except…” Ditzy said. “Except there’s something you have to consider that you've never had to before. Corona.” Luna stared, head tilting to the side somewhat. Ditzy pressed on. “Majesty…Corona wants to kill you. I…I don’t know if she can…but even if all she could do is banish you into the moon forever…” Ditzy swallowed, closing her own eyes. “I don’t want to think about what would happen if Corona were to do that. But say she did. Then Cadance would never know. Never be able to know. And…and doesn’t she deserve to know the truth?”

Ditzy was wrong. Luna had considered that. But…but what if she did tell Cadance, and then Cadance hated her, and afterwards Corona was cast back in the sun? Then not only would Luna had lost her sister, she would have lost her daughter. She’d be doomed to eternity alone, forever. Mortals could only hold a grudge for a finite time. Their lives were short, and so they naturally sought to bring closure to their hates, one way or another – or, they would simply die and take their grudges with them to what lay beyond. But an immortal like Luna? Like Cadance? There was no need to seek closure. No need to ever get rid of the hate – and the alternative, dying and taking a grudge with one, was simply not a possibility.

Ditzy Doo had no ability to comprehend how terrifying that possibility was.

Ditzy was staring hard at Luna, both her eyes coming into focus. “You have to tell her, Majesty,” she said. “I…I won’t keep this secret. I’m sorry, but I think that Cadance deserves to know, especially seeing as Corona is back, and you should be the one to tell her, but if you won’t…”

Luna glared at Ditzy. “If I ordered you,” she said, “as your Princess – ”

“I wouldn’t do it. I'm sorry.”

The Princess of the Night drew in a deep breath, then let it out as a long, shaking sigh. She had known this day would come, known that one day she would meet a pony who couldn’t be bribed, nor made to promise her silence. And she also knew what she’d resolved to do on that day: lie through her teeth that she would tell Cadance, pretend to do so, tell the pony that she’d done so, and then from that day forward do everything in her not inconsiderable power to prevent the pony from learning the truth. Luna opened her mouth in order to begin enacting the first part of her plan. “Very well. I – ”

“And I want to be there to make sure,” Ditzy added, standing and walking towards the door of the room. “I’ll go and get Princess Cadenza.”

Luna remained seated, mouth hanging open. There were a million and one things she could have done to stop Ditzy Doo – but at the moment, she was simply frozen in place by the sheer gall of the pegasus. By the time she had recovered, Ditzy Doo had already left.

There were significant benefits to being a captain of the royal guard, Cadenza knew, not the least of them being that at official state functions – such as, for example, a feast put on for a visiting foreign dignitary – the captain of the guard was allowed to actually participate, rather than needing to see to his duties. In fact, he had a seat to Cadenza’s right, sipping at the wine provided for all in attendance save Luna herself, whom Cadenza knew stuck to non-alcoholic beverages until the end of meals, when she permitted herself only a small glass of wine (‘in attendance’ being a relative term, of course, since the elder alicorn had excused herself several minutes ago to attend to affairs of state).

However, very little of that had anything to do with Captain Shining Armor. She had met with the stallion several times to coordinate her formal arrival in Canterlot, with Shining Armor travelling south to Cavallia several times. Of course, when one was staying somewhere for a week after a two-day train ride, one could hardly do nothing but work the whole time – especially not if it was not one’s first trip. Cadenza liked Shining Armor significantly more than she did the previous captain of the guard, who had been a stodgy old earth pony mare who was concerned only with business and duty. Shining Armor was loyal and stalwart, but was quite young and knew how to relax, and had even enjoyed the famous beaches of Cavallia during one stay.

Cadenza had enjoyed the beach that week as well, though not for the water. She felt almost bad for Luna due to being so distracted by Shining Armor. Cadenza knew that Luna looked forward to these meet-ups every decade or so; but on the other hoof this was fundamentally Luna’s fault for choosing such an active and pleasant stallion to be her captain of the guard, and then sending the poor, unknowing soul south into Cadenza’s clutches, especially his most recent visit after being distraught at the fact that his younger sister had committed a crime and then gone into hiding, something he was in no way responsible for and yet couldn’t help but be worried about. She hadn’t intended to make significant headway with him that week, only to distract him from his pain. She liked to think that she had succeeded in both counts.

Cadenza looked to Shining Armor, taking him in. She had discovered that her special talent was love – promoting it in others, yes, but it was also something she could follow in herself. She could sense that Shining Armor was taking an interest in her – and she knew that she was taking considerably more than a passing interest in him. “Captain Armor,” she said, her formality an intentional put-on. “You are the son of Viceroy Night Light, yes? Of the Starlight family?”

Shining Armor nodded, and Cadenza could see the pride on his face at the mention of his family’s name. “Would you believe,” she said, “that I knew Starlight Shine himself? The founder of your family?”

The unicorn captain blinked a few times, before nodding. “I would believe that, yes,” he said.

Flirting was delicate game. The same thing that could draw the interest of one pony could drive another way. For example, many ponies would be unnerved by Cadenza’s casual mention of her age of nearly a full millennium. Shining Armor, however, was intrigued by it, by the opportunities it presented – not the least of which was the chance to speak to someone who had known his distant ancestor.

“What was he like?” Shining Armor asked.

“Stodgy,” Cadenza said, drawing a look of slight mirth from Shining Armor. “But quite disciplined. Very concerned with propriety. A good pony, fundamentally, but…he took some getting used to.”

“Sounds an awful lot like my father,” Shining Armor noted.

“He was Luna’s majordomo at the time, before the position was abolished. He left Luna after many years of loyal service, and Luna’s gift to him was to create him as Margrave Starlight of Hippikes, a march in the province of Xenophon. This was when Latigo was a separate state, of course, and Hippikes represented the Equestrian northeastern frontier.”

“Of course,” Shining Armor said. “This would be around the same time that you were living as a vitner in Cavallia?”

Cadenza blinked in surprise. “You know your history,” she said, honestly impressed. One of the drawbacks to being an immortal was that very little of one’s life was a private affair. After she had left Canterlot for the first time, she had in fact gone back to living with her family as a vitner. Of course, ponies from across Cavallia had come to her asking for wisdom or aid or blessings or the like, giving her very little peace as one. In the end, her accepting the title of Exarch after the old one had died had almost been for convenience’s sake than anything. Cartasole had approved, however, her then-husband having stated that she was born to be a Princess, a title that had been added to that of Exarch within a year of her assuming the position.

“It seemed like a good idea, so that I’d know what to expect.”

Cadenza raised an eyebrow. “And do I live up to expectations?”

“Mostly…” Shining Armor teased.

Cadenza pouted. She couldn’t not fish around for more information at that. Shining Armor, it seemed, was no novice at the flirting game himself, despite having only a fraction of Cadenza’s years under his belt. “Mostly?” she echoed. “I suppose now is when you say that I am more beautiful than you expected from a nine-hundred ninety-nine-year-old?”

“Well, there is that…” he said, with a great degree of casualness. “Mostly you’re just not as tall, though.”

Ooh, he was a cheeky one. “I see,” she intoned, pretending to be put off as she turned back to her meal. In truth, she was far from it. Just because her special talent was love did not mean that she had any true degree of control over it. She could identify it, nurture it, help it along until it bloomed, but she could do nothing at all to prevent it when it came along – least of all in herself. Right now, she was interested in Shining Armor, not in love, but she knew the kind of interest that she felt, had experienced it, not often, but enough, and she knew where it would go.

She had loved Cartasole with all of her being. His passing had not merely broken her heart, but shattered it into a million pieces, even more so when one by one her adopted children had passed beyond the pale. She had wept, she had cried out, she had sealed herself away in a dark cave for four straight months and just wallowed in despair at the thought of spending an eternity without them…but eventually, she had left the cave. Slowly, bit by bit, her heart had healed. She had been able to live again, eventually to laugh again…and finally, to love again as well.

She was immortal. It was in her nature to never forget those she had cared for, to always feel for them, always love them – and then to move on after their time came, still feeling for them, but capable once more of feeling for others as well. That didn’t make the feelings she’d experienced in the meantime any less real. Her special talent coupled with her age allowed her to know the signs, recognize the feelings, have a far deeper insight into the experience than a mortal being could ever have. Far from making it somehow a hollow or lesser experience, however, Cadenza found it only make it all the more visceral, all the more joyous. She understood what was happening, and could fully appreciate it for what it was.

Which did not mean that she couldn’t be blindsided every now and then. For example, she did not even notice that she was in the middle of an animate conversation with Shining Armor about nothing in particular, until the conversation was interrupted by a gray-coated, yellow-maned pegasus mare with walled eyes. Cadenza immediately recognized her as Ditzy Doo, the bearer of the Element of Kindness. “Yes, Miss Doo?” she asked.

Ditzy Doo paused, looking unsure of herself, before visibly steeling herself as though expecting a strong, frigid wind any moment. “Your Highness,” she said, bowing. “I’m…I’m actually here on behalf of Princess Luna – er, Empress Luna. She needs to talk to you about something important. And private,” she added, looking to Shining Armor with one eye. The other lingered on Cadenza.

Cadenza and Shining Armor exchanged glances. “Might I ask,” Shining Armor said, “why her Majesty would send you, and not any one of the numerous waiters, servants, or guards of Canterlot Castle?”

“She…didn’t actually send me,” Ditzy Doo admitted. “But it is important, I promise you, your Highness.”

Cadenza pressed her lips together. “Very well,” she said, standing. “I shall see her now. Please, take me to Luna, Miss Doo.”

Ditzy Doo blinked, as though surprised that Cadenza had actually listened to her, but turned, leading her on. Internally, Cadenza mentally prepared herself for anything. It was almost inconceivable for there to be an attack against her person here, in Canterlot Castle, surrounded by her own Honor Guard, the much-vaunted Night Guard, with Luna nearby, and while being escorted by the Element of Kindness – almost, but not quite. Being royalty carried with it a number of drawbacks to go along with the innumerable benefits, and one of them was the constant threat of attack, which Cadenza had experienced a few times during her reign. Not a one had ever come close to succeeding, but that was no excuse to get sloppy.

After a minute of walking, Cadenza and Ditzy Doo reached their destination, a small, informal meeting room with windows that looked out over the Equestrian countryside. Luna was inside, facing a window, but with her eyes closed, a neutral expression on her face – the perfect image of a ruler in contemplation, lacking only the regalia that went with the title. Cadenza felt her heart swell slightly at the sight, and she smiled. “Luna?” she asked, walking up next to the elder alicorn, her horn glowing as she did, banishing her own dress and regalia into nothingness for the moment – if Luna felt no need for them, then Cadenza didn’t, either. She stopped a few feet away from the Princess of the Night “You wanted to see me?”

Luna turned to regard Cadenza, staring silently for several moments, before looking past her. Cadenza followed her gaze, and saw that Ditzy Doo was still standing in the room, near the door, looking pensive.

“I’m not leaving,” Ditzy said simply. “Not until you tell her.”

Cadenza blinked a few times at such a resolute declaration of defiance towards a being that was thousands of times older and stronger than her. She looked back to Luna, who’s stoic façade had visibly faltered at that, even more so when she looked to Cadenza. “There’s…” Luna said, her voice shaking a little. She looked to Ditzy Doo again, then back. “There’s something I have to tell you, Cadance.” She took in a deep breath. Cadenza held her own, somehow sensing where this was going. “I…well, you see, a thousand years ago…that…th-that is…”

To see Luna fidgeting, faltering, shrinking back a little, even…Cadenza had never seen her act like this. Luna stopped talking, exhaling, then taking in another deep breath and looking Cadenza in the eye, standing firm, wings flaring as though she were preparing to enter into mortal combat.

“I am your mother,” Luna said.

Cadenza stopped holding her breath, letting it out slowly at the declaration. “I know,” she responded.

Luna nearly lost her balance at Cadenza’s statement, one of her front legs suddenly giving out; only her flared wings allowed for a quick recovery as her jaw dropped open. A glance behind her told Cadenza that Ditzy’s own mouth had done likewise. She inclined her head to the pegasus. “Thank-you, Miss Doo,” she said softly.

Ditzy needed several moments to react. After a moment, however, she nodded, turning around and leaving the room, closing the door securely behind her. Turning around and looking back to Luna, Cadenza saw that the Shepherd of the Moon had fallen back onto her haunches, staring with wide eyes.

“Y…you know?” Luna asked. Cadenza nodded as she sat down herself, wings stretching and retracting pensively as she did. “Since when?”

Cadenza thought. “Maybe…four centuries ago?” she asked, shrugging as she did. “My special talent is love. Not just romantic love. The love of friends, and of family as well. And one day I just…noticed the love you felt for me. Not for the first time, but I did realize what it was for the first time. But…” she looked back to Luna. “But even after I realized it, I didn’t ask. You didn’t tell me, I knew you must have had reasons…maybe you didn’t think I could handle it…maybe you didn’t want a daughter, didn’t want me – ”

Luna tried to respond verbally, but words failed her. She settled on shaking her head rapidly. “I…” she tried after several moments. “I…I had to choose. I had to choose between raising you and remaining Princess – a duty that would consume all my time, a situation under which no foal should be raised – or abandoning Equestria, raising you and letting it all fall apart around me. I couldn’t make that choice. So…so I picked a third option, flew to Cavallia…found the vitners who raised you…”

Luna’s head was bowed, and she was visibly fighting a losing battle against tears. “I’m a horrible mother. I tried to kill you before you were born, before I realized what you were. I abandoned you afterwards. I abandoned you in Cavallia and…and I tried to make you mortal. Tried to take your immortality! Tried to kill you again!”

Cadenza’s eyes were wide, her wings flared, at that. “You…tried to kill me?” she asked in a small voice.

Luna looked up, worry etched all over her face. “You…you don’t know…you don’t have a father, Cadance. You were born from a part of me that was severed while I battled Corona. A part of me that was, at the time, suffused with dark magic. That part of me was purified and changed by the Elements of Harmony, changed into you, but I didn’t know, I thought that you were going to be created as a…as some kind of monster, a scion of Tirek…I didn’t know, Cadance, I didn’t know and when I saw you I stopped myself and…and…”

Cadenza blinked a few times, considering. She had, over the centuries, tried to become pregnant numerous times. It had yet to work, and she knew from an innocuous and embarrassing question once asked of Luna that the same was true for both her and her sister. So she had always assumed that the circumstances of her birth had to be…extraordinary. But to know that Luna had tried to end her before she had even begun to live…

After a moment, she looked back up to Luna. “But you didn’t kill me,” she said. “Not once you realized that I wasn’t a monster.”

Luna shook her head emphatically. “N-no. Not when you were born. Not once I saw what you really were, realized…realized that you were, by any measure, my daughter.” She scuffed a hoof on the floor. “I was ready, Cadance. Ready to raise you as my own, but I couldn’t do that while being Princess, and I couldn’t abandon Equestria. I…I would have been a horrible mother. One way or another, I would have been a horrible mother…”

Cadenza stared at Luna. “We’ll never know,” she said softly, her own lip trembling at the statement.

Luna looked down at her hooves. “I’ve…I’ve failed you utterly. I couldn’t even leave you with your name, I tried to implant the suggestion in the vitners I left you with, I almost succeeded…that’s why I call you Cadance. I always planned to name any daughter I had Cadance. But…but you’re not. You’re Cadenza. Mi Amore Cadenza. I had no hoof in raising you, I don’t deserve to name you. I don’t deserve anything from you…”

Cadenza’s gaze remained fixed on Luna. She could feel the emotions pouring off of the elder alicorn. There were only two: love, and regret, each of them in torrents large enough to drown cities. And within Cadenza, herself…

Once again her cutie mark, her special talent, came into play, helped her to understand herself, to side-step the hurricane of emotion that was fully capable of bowling over anypony else in a cacophony of confusion and pain. She could easily discern all the emotions she felt, they were all still there, but her special talent let her understand them, their source, their conclusions. She did feel anger towards Luna. Hate for what she’d done. Resentment for keeping such a secret. Horror at the thought of being killed before she’d ever lived. Empathy for the choice that Luna had been forced to make after she’d been born. Regret for never growing up with her true mother. Surprise at being born purely from Luna, with no father. Pity for the emotional wreck that her mother was in…

…and beneath all of them, a current flowing through them all, connecting them all, entwining them, directing them, the fundamental emotion she felt above any others…

Love.

Cadenza stepped forward, haltingly at first, before her wings unfurled of their own accord and she threw herself at Luna, at her mother, wrapping her hooves around the elder alicorn as tears came to her own eyes. All at once, it was as though the two were once more sitting on a hilltop somewhere in Equestria, a thousand years ago after having undergone a trial by fire – only this time, it was Luna who was seeking comfort, and it was Cadenza who offered it, embracing her mother tightly as the two simply wept into each other.

“I’m sorry!” Luna cried. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I never should have…I’m sorry…”

Cadenza didn’t have any words or thoughts of her own. She simply held her mother close to her, crying tears of joy.

Ditzy Doo couldn’t help herself – she had lingered close to the door, one ear pressed to it, just in case she’d be needed afterwards, for either of the two alicorns. It was a bizarre thought, an alicorn needing aid from a simple pegasus, but from the looks of things, it had been a distinct possibility.

But, from the sound of things, the two princesses – mother and daughter – were doing as well as could be expected. Ditzy let out a sigh of relief at that. She couldn’t help but think of her own daughter, and made a mental note to, as soon as she got back to Ponyville, give Dinky the biggest hug she could. Of course, she had been planning on doing that anyway. Maybe two hugs…

Smiling and wiping a few tears from her eyes, Ditzy Doo left the two immortal, incredibly powerful, but surprisingly fragile alicorns to themselves, returning to the feast to see to her other friends.