Monsters Never Die

by Mr Extra

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, Twilight Sparkle, Sad, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 6107

A surprise visit from Twilight prompts a conversation about Celestia's unusually long life, and the implications for the young Alicorn.

A surprise visit from Twilight prompts a conversation about Celestia's unusually long life, and the implications for the young Alicorn.

But immortality comes at a cost, and no immortal would wish it upon another.

6/15/2019: Oh my goodness. Featured. :yay: Thanks all!

Published 2019-06-15 03:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2021-04-23 19:11:26 UTC

Since Time Immemorial

Three gentle raps at the door drew Celestia’s attention. She gently stretched her neck, easing out the stiffness of a long morning working through reports, while her ear flicked in the direction of the muffled voice emanating from behind the thick oaken door. The slight sound was accompanied by the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock that marked it as time for tea.

She smiled faintly, relief flooding her stiff muscles, before glancing down to guide her quill into an open ink pot. Sunlight spilled through the office windows and fell upon the stacks of paper before her. With a small effort of will a thin stack of papers slipped itself off the desk and into a vanilla colored folder, which she tied closed with a piece of string.

“Come in.” She called, returning to her work as Decadent Touch entered with a gold trimmed tray. “Two cups today?” she noted, “Do I have company?”

Decadent Touch deposited the tray lightly on the side table and replied with a quick curtsy. “Princess Twilight Sparkle arrived this morning and is requesting a private audience.”

“Of course.” She replied, “I always have time for my students. Show her in.”

Twilight entered and Decadent slipped out the door behind her with another curtsy. The sharp retort of her hoofsteps was quickly muted as she moved hesitantly onto the plush carpet. Her eyes were, as always, drawn to the ever changing painting and tapestries that adorned the walls of the Solar Suite and only focused on the princess before her when the heavy wood door boomed softly behind her.

“Twilight!” Celestia said. She moved to her pupil and extended a hug, which was enthusiastically returned. “It’s been far too long since you last visited. I hear that your duties as the Princess of Friendship have kept you more than busy this past season.”

“Well, I guess The Map has been more active than usual,” Twilight replied with a quick snuggle against Celestia’s neck, “Rainbow, Pinkie, and I only got back from Trottingham yesterday and Rarity and Applejack already left for Ponduck so Spike had the run of the castle for a little while.” She broke off the hug and the two of them moved to a small table where the tea had been set out. “Not that I don’t trust him, he’s grown up a lot since we first moved in, it’s just that- sometimes I think he forgets how long his tail’s gotten.”

Celestia chuckled slightly and sipped at her cup. “It has been some time since I last saw your assistant. Has he gotten his wings back under control?”

Twilight giggled in response. “He’s been trying, but so far all he’s managed to do is knock over a couple of lamps and a bookcase.”

Celestia joined in with her student’s merriment and extended a wing to encircle the younger alicorn again, pulling her into a tight embrace for a moment. “It is good to see you again Twilight, but as much as I would like to believe otherwise I don’t think you came to Canterlot unannounced for a social visit.”

Twilight grinned nervously and rubbed the back of her neck. “Heh heh, yeah. I guess it is a little unusual.”

“Especially now, with Ponyville hosting the next Summer Sun Celebration. What was it you felt was too important to put in our regular letters?”

Twilight looked down at her teacup for a few moments before answering. “It’s probably nothing. I know how I get worked up over irrelevant things.”

“Twilight. If it worries you enough to make the trip on such short notice, then the least I can do is consider it.”

“Well,” she began slowly, “I was just wondering if, when I became an Alicorn, um, did the spell work right? Not that I’m complaining or anything!” she quickly added, looking up at Celestia. “I like my duties and the castle is great with a huge library and there’s always something to keep me busy around town and the Cutie Map besides, I mean just last week Fluttershy asked me to-”

Celestia held up a hoof to cut off her student’s rambling. “Twilight. What’s bothering you?”

Twilight’s eyes returned to her teacup and she swirled it in her lavender magic while she spoke. “Well,” she said, absentmindedly tugging at her mane, “this morning, when I was brushing myself, I found a grey hair, and I wondered if something had gone wrong. Did it?” she asked, peering up from under her bangs.

Celestia’s usual smile, full of easy grace and compassion, grew strained at Twilight’s question. It thinned, like a piano wire that had been pulled close to breaking and then struck by the inevitable progression of the music. She let out a heavy sigh. Her entire being seemed to lose its radiance as she stood, and made her way to the open balcony.

“P-Princess?” Twilight stuttered, her wide eyes taking in the sudden shift in Celestia demeanor. “It’s okay if you don’t want to answer. It was a stupid question anyway. Heh heh. I’ll just, um, see myself out the door then. S-sorry to bother you.”

Celestia’s reply froze Twilight in her tracks. “You’re going to die.”

…

…

“WHAT?!”

Celestia spun around and rolled her eyes. “Not right now,” she said. A small mischievous grin twisted her lips into a smile, but it was one that was uneven, and fragile. “I would have thought that you of all ponies, Twilight Sparkle, would be familiar with the concept of aging.”

Celestia heaved another sigh and regarded her student with a sad and pitying stare. She placed a hoof on the stunned mare's shoulder before continuing. “You see Twilight, as time passes ponies ‘grow older’. Sometimes their manes turn gray or white and they eventually slow down to the point that-”

“I know what getting old means!” Twilight yelled indignantly. “I can name at least six friendship reports where I mentioned Granny Smith who, by the way, is the oldest mare in town. Fluttershy held a funeral for Harry Hamster just last week, and Rainbow keeps talking about- wait a minute. That’s not funny.”

Celestia, for her part, was attempting to hide a smirk behind a raised teacup. “It’s at least a little funny.”

Twilight glowered at the other princess. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

“I did answer your question. You’re getting older. The transformation was flawless, it’s just that Alicorns aren’t immortal.”

“But-” Twilight said, screwing up her face in confusion.

“Think about it, Twilight. If alicorns never aged then how would young Flurry Heart have grown into the wonderful- if sometimes willful- foal that she is? Even Cadence is starting to notice it, although her Earth Pony magic will keep it from showing for some time yet.”

“Oh,” Twilight said, “I guess that makes sense?” Her eyebrows knitted together and she lapsed into a contemplative silence. The teacup was again swirling absentmindedly in her magical grasp, but this time with the addition of a biscuit that she was nibbling on. An occasionally enthusiastic sway of the cup would send a stray drop surging out of the vessel, only to be caught in the telekinetic field and slide back.

Celestia refilled her own cup and left her student to her thoughts, or as much as she could in the small chamber. Stepping around the table she perused the gallery of hangings that adorned the walls of her room. They were all specimens from her private collection that were occasionally rotated through by the castle staff when she wasn’t looking. Each was beautiful in it’s own way; a floor length tapestry of the celestial cycle, a feather collage of sharp peaks adorned with stone and bits pottery, a crayon drawing of an alicorn beside a tiny unicorn.

At length she stopped beside an ornately framed oil painting of three goats raising a flag atop a rocky crag. Surrounding them were weapons and armor strewn amongst rocks and pale, twisted forms. A rueful smile touched her lips as her hoof traced the elaborate metalwork frame embossed with scrolls and letters foreign to Equestria. Of the three figures depicted only one went without a helmet. His grey muzzle stared firmly into the distance and a neatly trimmed shock of white hair gripped firmly to his chin.

“I guess... I’m a little disappointed,” Twilight said, pulling Celestia from her own musings, “and relieved? I mean I had always thought I would live forever, like you, but it was a little bit scary at the same time. What would I do if all my friends got old and I didn’t? Would I go crazy without them or would I find a way to make them all immortal too? And If I made my friends immortal could I let anypony else go?” Twilight’s ears flattened against her head as she spoke,” I’m not sure I could, even if it was wrong.

“So it might be better this way. I get to stay with my friends for a little while and we get to find out what life’s like. I admit it would have been interesting to study the magic of friendship for a few hundred years, and I would have had you at least.”

“I’m glad you can see it that way,” Celestia said, returning to her seat, “Cadance became somewhat more flustered when she learned she would have to deal with grey hairs and wrinkles like everypony else.”

Twilight giggled. “I can imagine; she can be almost as dainty as Rarity sometimes. Still, I can’t help wondering what The Immortal Princess Twilight would be like.”

“It wouldn’t have suited you. As good of a pony as you are I could never see you becoming a permanent fixture of this world.”

Twilight frowned at that, her ears laying down as she looked up at her teacher. “You make it sound like I’m not good enough to achieve it.”

Celestia sighed and stared out towards the balcony. As she spoke her eyes lost their focus and grew misty. “If it were something to achieve I’m sure you would rank first among alicorns, but our eternal life is less of a gift and more of a sentence.

“Most ponies see how long I have ruled and see the dream of immortality, but I did not speak carelessly when I called it permanent. Immortals do not age, we do not sicken, and we do not die. Ever. Tell me, what do you remember of the events of your brother’s wedding once the queen revealed herself?”

Twilight raised an eyebrow at the sudden shift in topic but she answered the question anyway. It had been many years since the other princess had attempted to guide her towards an answer, but the tone of voice she had always used during Twilight’s education was unmistakable. “You stood up to her. You cast a spell but she had absorbed too much of my brother’s love and she overpowered you. Then you told us to get the elements and we ran out.”

Celestia beamed at her student. “An impeccable memory, as always. Do you remember what condition I was in?”

Twilight’s face screwed up in concentration as she attempted to recall the moment, her hoof rubbing against her chin. “Well, I remember you seemed pretty hurt. Your eyes weren’t focusing well and you were slurring your words. I wanted to help, but you told us to get the Elements; and Chrysalis was coming after us.”

“You did the best you could. It was a dire situation and there was nothing you could have done in any case. For all of your magical talent you’ve never had any luck with the healing arts. What about my horn?”

Twilight squirmed a bit at the jibe but pushed past it. It was true after all: despite her knowledge of medical thaumatology, she had never been able to so much as get a scrape to scab. “I think it was discolored. Blackish. Like that time in the library when I miscast Literary Lattice’s Quick Study spell.”

“And what happened when you miscast that spell?”

“Well, I was casting it on myself instead of another object, so instead of fizzling out like other spells it backfired and reversed the direction of the magic inside my horn. It gave me a terrible headache and you wouldn’t let me use magic for a week!”

“Very good. Now, do you remember what condition I was in after Chrysalis had been expelled by Cadence and your brother?”

“You presided over the ceremony, then you attended the afterparty, and…” Twilight tapped her head for a few moments and then slumped over the table. “I don’t remember. With all that was going on I guess I forgot. You said you were okay but...”

“Let’s take a trip down memory lane then, shall we?” Celestia’s horn lit up and a thick white tome with silver trim floated off a tall bookshelf in the corner of the room. As it crossed the room it opened before touching down in front of her, where she began quickly flipping through the pages.

Inside it was packed tightly with pages and pages of pictures. Twilight saw one of her in her graduating year at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns followed by Blueblood at the head of a long table wearing a party hat. She jumped past another three pages before stopping at one that devoted an entire half page spread to Cadence’s wedding.

“Here we are.” Celestia said, pointing at a particular photo. “Now, tell me what you see.”

The picture in question featured the bride and groom, surrounded by Twilight and her friends, with Celestia and Luna standing behind them all. Twilight found herself cringing fondly as she looked at the dresses and remembered the events preceding the second attempt at the ceremony.

Cadance’s borrowed dress hadn’t fit her quite right, even after the last minute adjustments by Rarity, and the dresses that she and her friends were wearing all had faint hoofprints on them from where they had been trampled on while they had been making their mad dash for the Elements. Only Shining Armor’s suit looked pristine and that was only because he hadn’t seen any action while under the effects of the Queen’s spell. Celestia and Luna were of course their normal immaculate selves, standing proudly behind the group.

“Wait a minute...” Twilight gasped and pointed at the picture. “Your horn! It’s white! But- when my spell backfired the scorch marks took weeks to grow out! Even with horn bleach and coloring.”

Celestia’s eyes sparkled as she nodded her approval. “Exactly. And you should remember that Miss. Lattice’s spell had a very low power input. The spell that Queen Chrysalis used was strong enough to overwhelm one of my most powerful spells. By the time it reached me she was putting in more than enough energy to cook my brain in my skull.”

Twilight’s hoof flew to her mouth and her eyes went wide in horror. “But you were alright. You were hurt but-”

“No, Twilight, I was very dead. But I am permanent, and that particular incident is far from the worst thing that has happened to me.

“What do you mean?”

Celestia turned away and rubbed one of her legs while her wings clasped themselves firmly against her body. “Discord wasn’t always so playful in his antics,” she said quietly, “his methods were once much more deadly, but after ‘playing’ with Luna and I for a few years it seems that he grew bored. ‘What’s the point of killing you if you don’t stay that way?’ Of course, he knew what was happening. He’s subject to the same rules we are.”

“You mean he’s, er, permanent too?”

“Yes. But he wasn’t always. He was once the goat in that painting,” she said, gesturing to the canvas she had been inspecting earlier. “He was the chief strategist of their army, winning battle after battle against overwhelming odds- hundreds of years before the founding of Equestria.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. One day he stopped appearing at battlefields and within a year the kingdom had descended into a firestorm of chaos. I couldn’t have guessed at the cause until he appeared in Equestria as he is now.

“And he’s not the only one. Tirek, Kaz, Durga. Sombra has been particularly punctual about his returns- if increasingly difficult to deal with. For a time I feared that Starlight Glimmer had been added to our company, but it seems you have rescued her from that particular fate.”

“Okay,” Twilight said, her stare boring a hole through the biscuit in front of her, “so you can’t die -- ever, but why do you make it sound like a bad thing? Hasn’t knowing you’re going to be around for another thousand years been really useful while ruling a country?”

“Of course it would seem that way, and indeed it would be if life bore any relation to fantasy, but fate never acts without a purpose. All the members of our pantheon that I have met have been granted permanence seemingly only out of spite.”

Celestia’s head dropped to rest upon her forelegs and the hint of venom that had crept into her words seemed to sink into the floor with the rest of her body. “When I knew King Sombra his only wish was to protect his kingdom. Now that same lust for power only destroys his home and still he is beaten down time and again. Queen Chrysalis has born many hives, and though they are strong enough to survive for a time, they have all either starved or been hunted to extinction. Tirek’s howls of hunger echo up from Tartarus daily, and Discord seems to remain sane only long enough to realize what he’s losing.”

“That’s horrible!” Twilight cried, recoiling, “Who would do something like that?”

“I would.” Celestia said, giving the other mare a wan smile.

“Princess! I didn’t mean--”

“I know. But the blame for their suffering is in part mine.”

“But if you didn’t do anything then hundreds of ponies would have suffered.”

“Necessity does not make an act any less evil. I knew what I did was for the good of my ponies, and I knew it would cause suffering for others. I may have been put in a position to make a choice, but it was my choice to make. I accept the price for my sins and I will pay for them as they come.”

“But you shouldn’t have to. Whoever did this should be held responsible. Why would they make creatures permanent if they’re just going to make them suffer forever?”

“I have found vague references to a ‘sin’ being the cause, some act that has drawn the ire of whatever doles out cosmic punishments, but nothing as to who or what is the cause.”

“Then, maybe I can-”

“Please, Twilight,” Celestia said, raising a weary hoof to forestall her apprentice, “I’ve searched for centuries, trying to learn anything I could about the force that keeps me here, and I’ve yet to find anything. I know you want to help, but please, don’t waste the time you have here. This, here and now, is more precious to me than the eons I spent wandering the land.”

“Princess, I-” Twilight stuttered, hiding a blush behind her bangs, “it means a lot to hear you say that.”

The two sat quietly for a moment. Sipping their tea in silence while Twilight’s gaze drifted to the balcony.

The warm afternoon air drifted lazily in through the open doors. A robin fluttered up to the balcony, chirped once, and disappeared out of sight.

Celestia’s lips curled upwards slightly as she watched Twilight. The other mare was more relaxed than she had been when she came in. Gone was the fidgeting and gently frazzled mane. Gone were the lines of tension on the bridge of her nose. Even her stance had opened up as she munched contentedly on a biscuit. The scene was nothing if not reminiscent of the crayon drawing on the wall, albeit with less scribbles. With a slight sigh, Celestia took one last sip from her tea and placed it on the table.

Outside, the sun tocked lower in the sky.

Twilight choked. Tea and biscuit flew violently from her mouth as she pounded on her chest with a hoof, trying to clear the sudden obstruction. When she could again draw breath she looked up at the wall clock and gasped. “It’s that late already?! The School’s open! I have classes! I- I gotta go!”

Twilight crammed the remains of the biscuit in her mouth as she dashed for the door, stumbling in her haste. A magenta hue enveloped the latch, but the younger princess slowed, and hesitated in pulling it open.

“Celestia?” Twilight asked, turning back one last time, “What was your, um, ‘sin’?”

Celestia winced, but answered anyway. “I kicked a puppy.”

Twilight’s brows furrowed. “Princess...”

“Please, Twilight,” the older mare said, her strained smile returning, “Some things are better lost to history.”

Not All Burdens Must Be Carried

Luna opened her eyes to a stiffness in the air. She blinked once and glanced towards the balcony where the last rays of sunset wormed their way in through a crack in the curtains. There, nested among the shadows, they touched upon the edge of an alabaster hoof.

“Sister,” she said, pushing off satin sheets and slipping out of bed, “I did not expect you so early in the dusk.”

Celestia sank further into the all consuming shadows. “Good evening, Luna. I’m sorry for intruding. I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Were the nobles such a chore this day?” Luna asked, stretching like a cat in the dark, “You are too soft on them. They will not give proper deference without discipline.”

“I can’t help it. I’ve always been that way with children.”

Luna gave her sister a sideways look but the other failed to notice and she made her way around the room, carefully avoiding the sliver of light from the balcony. “I suppose you never have changed much.” She said, knocking the curtain closed with a sweep of her hoof and at the same time causing the candelabra to burst into low blue flame.

Shadows danced in the dim light as if debating whether to terry in the two sisters’ prescience. They hovered there, flicking side to side in a nonexistent wind before leaping from the walls and climbing up Luna’s legs. There they coiled inward upon her frame, wrapping her horn to hoof in inky bandages, before bursting outwards to form a loose silken robe. Within moments the room stilled and the finer features were visible to the two alicorns. Luna, now properly attired and styled, turned to face her sister fully.

Celestia giggled at the display. “Showmare.”

Luna clamped down on her pout before it could fully manifest. Instead she let out an indignant huff and walked past her sister to rummage through a muraled cabinet recessed in the wall. “Tell me: what is it that has brought you to my chambers this evening?”

Celestia pulled backward, rubbing her foreleg with a hoof and looking at the ground. The flickering blue lights of the candelabra made her eyes seem suddenly sunken and old. “It’s nothing important. I’ve just been feeling out of sorts.”

Luna leveled her with a flat look. “If there is anything that I have learned in the hundreds of years I have known you it is that you brooding in my room, while I sleep, is not ‘nothing’.”

A mirthless chuckle escaped the solar diarch. “Credit where credit due I suppose. Twilight came by.”

Luna looked askance at her sister as she rummaged through a cabinet, the clinking of glass almost musical in the still room. “I would think that cause for celebration. Is she not well?”

“She asked if she was immortal.

The rummaging stopped. “I see. Did you tell her about...?” Teal eyes asked the unspoken question, and Celestia looked away in shame.

“No. How could I? If she knew…”

“She would understand. It was a hard time.”

“Of course she would understand, she’s a good pony. One of the best even. But things would change. I saw a hint of that today and… I don’t think I could bear it.”

Luna cast one more sidelong glance at her sister before extracting a silver bottle and two glasses from the cabinet. “Even now, you underestimate her. She is stronger than you know-- or perhaps it is you who still fears the past?”

“You don’t need to worry about me, Luna.” Celestia said with a dismissive wave of her hoof, “I made my peace with our actions long ago.”

Luna’s brow leapt skeptically skyward, but she recovered quickly. “If you say so.”

“It’s just that sometimes I wonder--” Said the other, accepting a proffered glass, the contents invisible save for a faint sparkle in the dim light, “what if there had been a better way? One that didn’t cause so much suffering. One that didn’t...” She trailed off, then downed her drink, pushing past the lump in her throat. “Everyone lost so much.”

Luna gazed into her own glass, opting to swirl it around in her magic rather than drinking. “We did the best we could. Even if we did not, the past cannot be changed and we must move onwards. Let it go. We’ve both seen what happened to the others. What happened to me.”

“I’m not sure that I can.”

“Please try. If not for your own sake, then for mine?”

“I-- I’ll try. Just don’t hate me if I can’t.”

“I could never hate you sister.” Luna wrapped Celestia in a hug, the other alicorn clinging to her tightly.

“History begs to differ. I seem to remember you broke my favorite vase.” She grinned at her joke, but when Luna’s only reaction was to squeeze her tighter she let the expression fall. “Sometimes I wonder-- after everything I’ve done, after everything I’ve done to you, how you can say that.”

For some reason that caused Luna to laugh. “How about this: if you never hate me, then I shall never hate you. Is it a deal?”

In the face of such a foalish proposition Celestia barked out a laugh of her own. “It’s a deal,” she said, wiping the moisture from her eye, “but you can’t forget my birthday again.”

“That was one time! Not even Discord carries a grudge for so long.”

“I think you would be surprised what our draconequus friend carries with him.”

“Perhaps I would. There are still many mysteries in the world.” Glancing down at her sister's barrel she commented, “One of them being how you still fit into that necklace. Especially with your diet.”

A pillow soared at the princess of the night and it was returned twofold, chasing the other alicorn out of the room.

Laughter echoed into the hall as Celestia paused halfway through the door. She looked back with a small smile. “I’m glad I have you back.”

Luna, wreathed in shadow and scattered feathers, returned the smile. “I would wish for nothing else.”

----- --- -----

The door clicked softly behind Celestia, leaving Luna in the dark to stare after her sister. She looked down at the soft glow of sunlight as it crept in at the edges of the curtain. Peering after it, she watched as it dimmed and then faded, saying nothing as darkness fully settled in on the room.

Luna heaved a sigh and flared her horn. The midnight blue glow saturated the room and seemed to cast more shadow in the already dark room. After a moment a sliver of moonlight crept in from the balcony, slicing through the gloom.

“We shall have to be more careful in the future,” she said, bolting the door with an effort of will.

A series of lamps along the wall sprang to life as she crossed the room highlighting floor to ceiling bookcases filling one corner. She pulled a heavy tome from one, barely glancing at the crescent moon on the cover, and moved to her desk-- pointedly ignoring the large mirror beside it.

The book made a heavy thud as she set it down. It was nearly as large as a platter and bound in blue canvas. Various ribbons and sheets filled with runes, formulae, and other notes were jammed between the pages. Flipping it open to a red ribbon, she studied the diagram inside and its surrounding characters.

With a word she channeled her magic through the lines on the page until they glowed with azure light. Radiating and pulsing it lifted off the page and hovered before her eyes. Then with a mental push the sigil floated forwards and attached itself to the glass of the mirror before fading from view.

The mirror was as tall as she was. Rimmed in onyx and inlaid with alabaster carvings, it had been a gift from one of her generals soon after her ascension and had reflected her immortal beauty for hundreds of years.

Now it served a different purpose. Setting the book aside Luna took a deep breath and regarded her reflection critically. She noted the tiny features that had been nearly imperceptible in the dark: wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, a dulling of her pointed hooves, the fading of her midnight coat. Her regal bearing was unblemished but she seemed, to the careful eye, worn.

She sighed and as her magic flared her appearance smoothed out. The edges of her hooves became sharp and crisp, and her coat gained a more glossy shine. She nodded when it was finished, looking down to note the same changes in her physical appearance, before turning her attention to the whole of her reflection.

She looked just as she had after regaining her full power. Tall, regal, powerful. Brimming with youthful vitality. Exactly as I should be remembered, she thought, Aside from one detail.

She regarded her reflection as it stood perfectly still. No motion of hers now transferred to it, it seemed a static image of her save for its eyes.

The eyes had changed color. They were comprised wholly of a blue so deep that she could see galaxies spiraling in their depths. As she looked she felt herself falling into them, the infinite void pulling everything into themselves like a starving wendigo feverishly looking to fill the gnawing emptiness in its belly.

Or, conversely, like a vessel waiting to be filled.

“Tantabus,” Luna said, causing her reflection to blink, “How goes your progress?”

“Mistress,” it replied, bowing, “This one has assimilated up through the siege of Deepwood Pass.”

“So little?” Luna sighed, “‘tis not even of the Discordian era. How much longer will you require?”

“At the current rate, it will require an additional forty-three years to fully process all of your memories.”

“So long..?” Luna asked. She began pacing before the mirror, mumbling to herself and momentarily forgetting the Tantabus. “Do we have enough time? Can we put everything in order? If we should increase the potency of the potions and remain in the Dreamworld longer… Thirty years-- perhapse thirty-five… But forty? Can we manage it?”

“Mistress,” the Tantabus broke into her train of thought, “If thou woulds’t prefer, this one could exclude thy time on the moon and gloss over the more mundane of thy memories. It could reduce the allotment by no less than fifteen years.”

“No,” Luna shook her head, “you are not a journal. It would be pointless if you did not truly know the emptiness.

“And stop calling yourself 'this one.' You are as alive as I can make you. Refer to yourself as a pony would.”

“Is that an order Mistress?”

Luna chewed her lip for a moment as she regarded the Tantabus. She searched the expressionless face for any hint of emotion. “Yes. It will be good practice.”

“Very well Mistress, this one-- I will do so.”

“Good. And another thing.” Luna said. She laid out the tome in front of the mirror, turning to a recent page crisscrossed with arcane formula. “Memorize this.”

The Tantabus looked at the pages, scanning from top to bottom for several minutes before it turned back to Luna. “I have finished. What is it?”

“This… this is my gift to you. A way to be free. A spell to be rid of my-- your memories. Or, if you wish it, a way to end your own existence.”

The Tantabus looked at Luna quizzically. “But,” it asked, its brow furrowing. Its expressions had made remarkable developments over the past several months. “Why would I need such a thing Mistress? I was created to serve you.”

“I did not create you to serve me. I created you to replace me. Time weighs heavily on us all. I do hope you will never use it, but in time it may be a comfort to know that it is there. There were moments when I…” Luna shook her head. “You will understand in time. Suffice it to say that I have deemed it necessary to provide you with... options should you want for them.”

“... but mistress, I see no reason to have this spell. It can undo all that you have worked for, all that you have created myself for.”

“Indeed. Perhaps I do not believe that you should be eternally shackled by ghosts of the past.”

The Tantabus cocked it’s head to the side. “But mistress, unless I am mistaken, you are not a ghost. You are very much alive.”

“I am a ghost. A relic of the past. Held in place only by lingering regrets and now, without even those, I will fade away. The future is for the young, for those who can look forward. Life is too short to waste, too wonderous to squander and too long to hobble with regret. You are what comes after. You will persist even when I am naught but dust and faded memories. It is my purpose to teach you, to guide you, but you must move beyond me.

“My sister is… trapped. By the world and by her own hooves, and try as I might I cannot save her. Selfish as it may be, I ask that you help her. She will need a light in the dark when my own star burns out.”

“Is that the purpose that mistress created this one for? To guide your sister using your memories?”

“Yes… and no.” Luna said, absentmindedly floating the tome back to the shelf, “When my time is done you will have as much of me in you as I can give, but you will not be me. I wish for you to take on this task, but I will not bind you to it else I inflict my own suffering upon another. No, you must choose your own path-- and choose it willingly-- else it would have no meaning.”

Luna drew back the curtains and gazed out into the moonless night as the last whispers of sunset faded from view. She watched as the tiny vestiges of light cast themselves into the endless sky and were swallowed by the unending dark.

She watched as up above a star faded into view, a single guttering flame to stave off the all consuming void.

“Think on this, Tantabus.” Luna said, “Think on your future while you study my mind this night.”

And just like that she was gone. The drapes fell closed behind her with a rustle and the Tantabus was left alone. It stood in the mirror, a reflection in an empty room, a light with no source, a soul without form. It looked at the tome on the shelf and the journals beside it. It listened to the clopping of hooves outside the door as they grew still during the night. It watched the candles burn out, one by one, until all that was left was inky blackness. And still it watched, perfectly still in the glass.

The Tantabus stared after her as moments stretched into hours, it’s flowing mane pausing as if forgetting its purpose amid the creature’s thought.

“I do not understand, Mistress.” it said to the empty room, “Your words confuse me. How can one continue after one is gone? But this one will try to understand. This one will honor your wishes until it does understand. This one will follow your example. This one will care for your sister. This one will be her guiding star.

"This one will be... Polaris."