Celestia is gone.

It was night, and it wouldn't be long until the sun would rise. Only, it wont. Celestia is dead. There is no-pony to raise her beautiful sun, and the only pony who could, is the princess of the moon, but how is she supposed to do what her sister had done for so long? She, the lunar princess, the one who tried to stop the sun from ever rising again. This was what Luna questioned as she lay on her bed, crying for the sister she was kept away from for so many years, to be reunited with for such a short time.

She looked up from her tear-stained pillow, and her teal eyes fell on her open window as a single, white feather blew through and landed on the princess' nightstand. She stared at the pale object, large enough so that it could only belong to one pony. She silently stood, walking over to where the feather lay.