Freeport Venture: Come And See

Chapters

The Day We Turned the Tide
The Day The World Stopped Making Sense
The Day It All Came Tumbling Down
The Day Where Nothing Changed
The Day We Rediscovered Hope

The Day We Turned the Tide

I was there the day we turned the tide.

It began three years ago, when the self-proclaimed Emperor Sombra broke free of his prison. The yaks and caribou fell before the world realized what was happening, and then he set his sights on the greatest prize of all: Equestria.

They might not have been ready for his return, but they weren’t going to give up without a fight. The war had dragged on for three years of bloody stalemate as the dark emperor slowly ground Celestia’s forces down. The ponies of Equestria fought with unparallelled bravery and ferocity, but Sombra’s dark powers seemed to have provided him with an unending army of monsters and mind-controlled slave soldiers.

For too long, the rest of the world left Equestria to fight on their own. The ponies seemed to have the war well in hoof, and why should any of them risk their lives? Sombra wasn’t attacking their homes, so it wasn’t their problem.

It had taken me far too long to convince the Council to intervene. Nobody wanted to go to war, especially a war thousands of miles away. I’d done a few subtle things, as much as I could get away with while Freeport was still technically neutral, and had some of my allies carefully build up public opinion in favor of getting involved. Freeport and Equestria had their share of messy history, but at the end of the day everyone agreed we’d much rather have Celestia for a neighbor than Emperor Sombra the would-be world conquerer.

Our first target was obvious. The siege of Manehattan had been dragging on since the start of the war, with Sombra slowly tightening his grip and choking off the tenuous supply lines to the city. It was time to change that. Strumming’s scouting reports just confirmed my first instinct.

I stood on the prow of the FAS Eternal Flame, getting a good look at the rapidly approaching shore. Sombra’s army had left most of the land around the city as a blasted wasteland, stripped of almost all life by years of brutal combat and constant foraging. The city itself lay half in ruins, but the Equestrian flag still flew proudly over every one of the towers in the city center.

The ship’s captain, a zebra named Kibwe, stepped up to my side and politely cleared his throat. “Archon, signal from the Rising Tide. Sombra’s forces have seen our approach and have begun repositioning to hold the beaches.”

I nodded, not taking my eyes off the enemy. “They’d have to be blind not to see us. It doesn’t matter. There’s no fortifications worth speaking of, and they won’t be able to move enough heavy weapons to stop us from landing.”

“It could be an ugly fight to claim the shore.” Captain Kibwe cautioned. “Without a secure harbor we’ll have a hard time unloading the bulk of our forces.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, I could feel a confident smirk working its way across my lips. “Don’t worry about that, Captain. My magi and the clans will be more than enough to secure the beaches. Signal the Hammercuda and let Magus Doo know the advance force will be in for a warm reception.” I thought it over for a second, then my grin widened as I added, “And move the ship in close enough for me and my forces to disembark.”

That earned me a raised eyebrow from the captain. Conventional wisdom said that a commander should stay away from the fighting, somewhere that gave them a good view of the battlefield. That way they could get a good look at the big picture and wouldn’t have any combat distracting them from generalship. However, I had enough brains to realize that I was a lot more useful as a battle mage than playing at being a general. Better to leave the army and navy in the hands of someone with experience running one.

The Eternal Flame lumbered towards the shore. My flagship was a big lumbering beast of a ship, partly because flagships are supposed to be the biggest and scariest ships in the fleet and partly for much practical considerations. Some of the cargo I’d brought along was big and heavy.

The ships’ ballistae opened up as soon as we were in range, giving the enemy a taste of what was to come. For a moment I was tempted to join in, but at this range I wouldn’t be doing much more than saturation bombardment. Better to save my power until I could use it to accomplish something more meaningful.

I saw my first opportunity when Sombra sent a squad of fliers after us. Most of them were enslaved pegasi and gryphons, but an enscrolled wyvern was leading the charge. I was reasonably confident that the archers could handle the ponies, but normal arrows would bounce right off a wyvern’s thick hide. Our ballistae might be able to take it down, but those heavy weapons usually had a hard time tracking a fast-moving target.

Good thing I was there.

I opened up with a globe of pure darkness to scatter and disorient the incoming enemy squadron. That slowed the pegasi enough for my archers to get a good volley in, and all the light I’d stolen away was the perfect building block for my next spell. A net of pure light wrapped around the incoming wyvern, leaving it hanging helplessly in the air. Ballistae might not be great at hitting a fast-moving target, but they were fine at hitting something completely motionless.

Without their heavy backup, the rest of the fliers went down pretty quickly. I had hoped to take some of them alive, but between the arrows and the fall it didn’t work out. Perhaps that was for the best—getting the mind-control crowns off Sombra’s slaves didn’t magically restore their minds. Months of treatment might be able to sort them out, but that was a long-term solution. In the short term, they were still fanatically loyal to Sombra and would fight to the death. I didn’t like idea of killing mind-controlled slaves, but in the middle of a big chaotic battle we didn’t have any better way to stop them from killing us.

After our arrows saw off the first wave, the second set of fliers tried to stay high enough to be safe. Our ships sent out their own fliers to keep them tied up—a mish-mash of clanners, some gryphon mercenaries, and a few Free Minds. That was enough to keep them off the ships, especially since the enemy already had a hard time doing much from high altitude.

The rest of Sombra’s forces tried to support his airborne troops as we drew closer to the shore. They hadn’t managed to drag many heavy weapons to the beaches to actually threaten the ships, so all we really had to worry about was arrows and bolts. The ships had enough armor for those to just bounce off, and the crew had enough cover to be reasonably safe. Much more than the archers sitting out in the open on the beaches.

Just when I’d started feeling reasonably confident we’d make it to the shore without serious opposition, I spotted something way more dangerous than archers: a unicorn with a big crystal crown on his head. If that wasn’t a big enough clue, his horn lit up and launched a bolt of fire that punched a pony-sized hole through my sails. Thankfully my sailors had done a good job keeping them damp enough that they didn’t immediately catch fire, but I didn’t want to push my luck by letting him get a second shot.

I opened up with a fireball to get his attention. He chose the most obvious defense against pyromancy considering our location, snatching up water from the nearby ocean to quench the flames. That would’ve been a good idea against an ordinary fire-flinger, but I was way more than that. I sent a follow up spell while his water shield was blocking his line of sight, sending an intense blast of arctic cold into his defenses. The water shield immediately froze solid, falling onto its wielder with a satisfyingly lethal crunch.

The rest of Sombra’s soldiers groaned and clenched their heads for a couple seconds after the magus’ death. From what the Equestrians had said, the ponies with the big crystal crowns had some sort of leadership and coordination role over the mind-controlled thralls. Whenever one of the leaders went down it caused some sort of psychic feedback that the slaves needed a bit to recover from. It usually lasted less than a minute, depending on how many other leaders were around, but I’d take whatever opening I could get. “Get to the shore and put hooves on the ground before they recover!”

Either the ship set a speed record or Sombra’s leaders were spread too thin, because his thralls still hadn’t recovered when we hit the shore. I was briefly tempted to cut loose on them for a dramatic entrance, but that would’ve been a waste. Thralls with no free will wouldn’t be intimidated, and big flashy spells would wear me out a lot faster than smarter precision strikes with a lot less to show for my efforts.

So I did what any smart leader does when dealing with a situation they can’t be bothered to handle personally. I delegated.

Thirty tons of steel came barreling out of the ship’s cargo hold as a pair of four meter tall war golems headed straight for the enemy lines. Sombra’s slave soldiers might have been mindless thralls, but for a second I could swear I saw fear in their eyes. The golems slammed into them like trains, scattering enemy soldiers and tearing gaping holes in the front line. I followed in their wake as more of my soldiers disembarked to take advantage of the opening I’d created.

Similar scenes played out across the shore as the graduates from my academy joined the fray, though none of them had golems quite as massive as mine. We hadn’t really standardized any designs yet, so many of the magi had come up with their own customized designs. Kukri had a small pack of pony-sized golems, each of which was specialized for a different task. I’d occasionally poked fun at her for making such small golems, but they were quite a bit nimbler than my giants and still quite capable of wreaking devastation. Not to mention she had more than me. While my golems punched a huge hole in Sombra’s lines, Kukri’s darted around shoring up weak spots and exploiting opportunities.

That was part of why I hadn’t standardized golem designs. We were still experimenting, and letting some of my academy students and junior magi play around with different concepts and designs was producing all sorts of useful data. I would’ve preferred a bit more time to test them out before we took them into a warzone, but when an ancient evil overlord is trying to conquer the world sometimes you have to make do with a prototype. I wasn’t going to sit back and let the ponies of Manehattan starve to death because I wanted to give the junior magi more time to iron out the kinks in a lab. Besides, actually taking them out into the field was a better test than anything we could do in a controlled environment.

So far, the results were looking promising. My own golems were swatting aside Sombra’s soldiers without even breaking stride, while enemy swords and spears just bounced off their thick metallic bodies. My giant golems were huge targets, but so far the enemy hadn’t brought any weapons to bear that were remotely heavy enough to hurt them. It was only a matter of time before that happened; they were too big and obvious to be overlooked.

That was fine. My golems could handle the heaviest firepower Sombra’s army had much better than the ordinary rank and file. Not to mention I was right there with them. With any luck, one of Sombra’s top magi or generals would try to deal with the golems personally, and run right into me. I did have a score to settle with Heritor Azurite, and the EIS had told me that he was in command of Sombra’s forces in Manehattan. Of course, I couldn’t rule out that they’d made that up just to draw me into the war a little bit quicker. Honesty might be one of those virtues most Equestrians aspire to, but when you’re fighting a desperate war for survival morals start getting flexible.

Any normal army would’ve broken in the face of how much force I’d brought to bear, but Sombra’s army was a long way from normal. Thralls didn’t have enough free will to worry about things like morale or their own personal survival. While we made good progress at first, the chaos could only last for so long. Eventually the officers started to bring the thralls back into line and organize a proper defense. They couldn’t stop my huge golems, but my golems could only be in one place at a time. The thralls shifted focus, avoiding conflict with me and focusing their attention on the soldiers.

Thralls don’t make very good soldiers. No free will meant no initiative or creativity, and while they felt no fear, that was a double-edged sword. It kept them from fleeing for their lives, but it also denied them that razor edge focus that comes from a life-and-death situation. Sombra’s mind control helmets could flood their body with adrenaline, but that was a poor substitute. Not to mention most of the thralls were untrained civilians he’d captured and pressed into service.

However, Sombra did have one critical advantage: numbers. It would take hours or even days to finish unloading all my troops, and all I had right now was an advanced force securing the beachhead. While each one of Freeport’s battle-hardened mercs were worth five thralls, Sombra had more than that before accounting for the occasional monster within his ranks.

Then I saw the heavy weapons. Most of Sombra’s artillery had been focused on Manehattan as part of the siege, but he was finally getting the catapults into position. Things would get ugly fast if those things opened up on the beaches. The enemy would kill as many of their own as mine, but I doubt Sombra cared about losing a few thralls to deny me a beachhead.

The fleet could always pull out and land somewhere safer, but that would mean giving up on Manehattan. Sombra would go all-out to try and break the city before help arrived, and it would mean losing Freeport’s first battle in the war. Not exactly the grand entry I’d had in mind. We needed a quick and big victory to help shore up Equestria’s morale, and to help convince all the doubters back home that I’d made the right move getting involved. An embarrassing reversal was the exact opposite of that.

I would have to knock them out before they could get a shot off. It was a lot longer than I liked to teleport, and I’d be stuck all by myself in the middle of the enemy forces. But the alternative was letting them pound my soldiers with impunity, and that just wasn’t an option. I’d taken bigger risks and gotten away with—

A warhorn bellowing out from the heavens stopped that thought in its tracks. A squadron of pegasi shot down from the clouds a second later in a classic wedge formation. Even from this distance, I recognized the blue uniform and yellow lightning bolt of the Wonderbolts. They’d been stunt fliers in better times; now, they were one of the best air units Equestria had to offer.

While they knocked out the catapults, I heard something far louder than a warhorn. Thousands of ponies shouted as they charged out of Manehattan to join the battle. Most of the survivors looked like they hadn’t had a decent meal in months. In any sane war they would’ve given up a long time ago, but there was nothing sane about this. They’d held out for more than two years living on grass, rats, and what few supplies we’d managed to smuggle through Sombra’s blockade. They’d suffered through too much to see the liberation fail now.

Faced with attack on two new fronts, Sombra’s army crumbled. Whoever was pulling the puppets’ strings couldn’t deal with that many attacks at once, and before long the army’s cohesion fell apart completely. Probably because Heritor Azurite or whoever it was decided that saving their own worthless life was more important than controlling the army.

I can’t say how long it took us to mop up. The entire battle became a huge chaotic mess once Sombra’s army started crumbling, and I couldn’t do much beyond smash through anything wearing the colors of the Crystal Empire.

Then, so suddenly I could scarcely believe it, we were through. I knocked aside one of Sombra’s thralls, and instead of finding more of them I found myself facing Equestrians. A purple-maned unicorn mare who probably would’ve been beautiful if she hadn’t been skin and bones flung herself at me, latching on and hugging me for all she was worth. “Thank you! Oh, thank you!”

The same scene played out all over the battle line as my soldiers met up with the survivors of Manehattan. I wasn’t sure what to say to any of them, so I went with the most obvious thing I could think of. “We brought plenty of food and—”

Before I could say anything else, the mare kissed me full on the lips. I probably shouldn’t have been so shocked. After two years of siege and starvation, the prospect of a hot meal and warm bed would seem like heaven.

With the battle winding down, I got to work taking care of all the refugees. Manehattan had been the more heavily populated city in Equestria before the war. Now ... well, I knew they’d tried to evacuate as many citizens as they could before Sombra’s army closed in. I wanted to believe that was the only reason there were so few ponies left for us to help. I also knew that was probably far too optimistic.

I was making sure all the survivors were getting whatever they needed when one of the Wonderbolts landed in front me, snapping off a quick salute with a prosthetic steel wing. “Colonel Rainbow Dash, Wonderbolt Squadron, Equestria Air Command.” She pulled off her helmet and smirked at me. “Looks like we pulled your butts out of the fire.”

I responded in kind. “Sorry, I thought you were the ones surrounded by the enemy before Freeport got here to save the day.”

Colonel Dash snorted. “They were gonna push you back into the sea before we showed up.” She didn’t say anything else for a while, her eyes lingering on the steady column of refugees getting food, fresh clothes, and whatever else they needed. When she spoke once more, her smile had vanished and she sounded completely serious. “Thanks for the assist. We’d been holding out for as long as possible, but I don’t know how much longer Manehattan could’ve lasted. I’m amazed they held out as long as they did.”

I nodded gravely. “Celestia always said ponies were a lot stronger than they realized.”

The colonel grunted, her eyes lingering on a couple of mares dressed in the ragged remnants of silk dresses. “Guess she was right. Then again, when I was a kid I wanted to fly with the Wonderbolts and beat up monsters. Guess that means I’m living the dream, right?” She laughed humorlessly, her eyes drifting down to her prosthetic wing. She slowly flexed it a few times. “Still getting used to this thing. Not quite as fast as I used to be, but that’s still faster than anything Sombra can put in the sky.”

My curiosity got the better of me. “What happened?”

“I was part of the team that took out Heritor Malachite.” She shot me a grin that didn’t reach her eyes. “He got my wing, I got his head. Fair trade.” She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t get it. The normal soldiers are mind-controlled, but the Heritors joined up with him willingly. Why would anypony do that?”

“Greed, ambition, or maybe they’re just stupid and evil,” I answered. “There are always gonna be a couple bad apples who figure that joining up with the local evil overlord is the right move. Being in charge of the slaves is better than being one.”

“Yeah, if you’re a total jerk,” Colonel Dash grumbled. “I still can’t believe Heritor Azurite got away from us. How he manages to move that giant palace of his so fast...”

That got my attention real fast. “So you’re sure it was Azurite commanding here?”

My former apprentice was close enough to hear that, and Kukri’s ears perked up as she trotted over. “Azurite. Isn’t he the one who—”

“Yes.” I didn’t want to deal with the can of worms that would get opened up if Kukri finished that sentence. It was ... personal.

When Sombra first returned, before he’d gotten his huge army of thralls to launch the invasion of Equestria itself, Princess Cadenza had been put in charge of stopping him. Naturally, she’d turned to the Archmagus of the Northern March for help. Scarlet Runeseeker. My mother. As evidenced by the fact that Sombra had marched on to Equestria itself, Cadenza’s expedition to the Crystal Empire hadn’t gone well. Details on what exactly had happened were sparse, but rumor had it that the stallion who became Heritor Azurite was part of the expedition. If that was true, he was the only known survivor.

I had no idea why Celestia had picked Cadenza to head the expedition, beyond the fact that she was royalty. A part of me couldn’t help but wonder if my mother would’ve done a better job if she’d been in command. I suppose it was at least good news that I’d run into Cadenza during the whole Zebrica debacle and we’d managed to at least somewhat clear the air. Or maybe it wasn’t good news. It would’ve been a lot easier to deal with her death and everything else that had happened if I could’ve just blamed my mother’s death on a stupid unqualified brat who didn’t deserve to be a princess.

Then again, even veteran archmagi make mistakes. When my father led one of the early attempts to break the siege of Manehattan, he’d found Azurite on the battlefield and...

“Any idea which way Azurite went?” The words left my mouth without first stopping to consult my brain.

“North.” Colonel Dash shrugged. “Probably trying to get back to King Evil Crystalface. Not that it’s gonna do him much good.” Kukri shot a curious look her way, so she explained, “Sombra’s the kinda evil overlord who starts killing minions whenever things don’t go his way. When we beat Heritor Fulgurite at Fillydelphia, the next time we saw his army they were carrying the Heritor’s head on one of their banners.”

What a shock. “Well if Sombra kills him off for us, so much the better.”

“If,” Kukri stressed.

“I’m not gonna count on him doing us any favors.” the colonel agreed. “If Sombra was fair and consistent he wouldn’t be an evil overlord. Azurite was one of his first Heritors, he might let the guy off with a warning.” Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t want him getting away.”

“Me either.” I started pulling a plan together. “You said he has some sort of mobile palace? What’s the deal with that, and how fast does it move?”

“It’s more like a fortress than a palace,” Colonel Dash explained. “Made entirely out of crystal, ‘cause that’s Sombra’s thing. He uses a hundred yak thralls to move the whole fortress around. It looks as ridiculous as it sounds, but we haven’t been able to crack it yet. He’s got ice trolls defending the thing, and since he can move it around it’s hard to get any siege weapons in position. Maybe if we could get Celestia to go after him, but she’s usually busy dealing with Sombra...”

“I guess it’s up to us, then.” I started taking a mental inventory of what we’d need to knock out a mobile fortress. It wouldn’t be an easy job; from what the colonel said, it moved too fast for us to catch up with it while towing artillery. We could still set up an ambush or try to catch it with my fleet, but if Azurite had half a brain he’d stay away from the coast, and getting ahead of him with artillery would be even harder than catching up to him. Taking out a mobile fortress without any siege equipment would almost certainly get ugly.

The colonel grimaced and nodded. “I took a couple cracks at that thing during the siege, when we were trying to break the lines long enough to get supplies in and civilians out. Obviously, it didn’t work out. Azurite has it sealed up tight. No way in unless you can fit through an arrow slit, and nothing sort of sustained bombardment with heavy siege weapons is going to break through those gates.”

“This one has a plan,” Kukri piped up. “If the mobility is the problem, why not just take out the yaks pulling it? Or else sabotage the roads. Something that huge would almost certainly bog down if it had to cross a muddy field instead of a well-maintained road.”

Colonel Dash nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, they had to clear out a lot of rubble whenever they wanted to use the fortress against us in the city. Only problem I see is that we’d have to use the same roads to catch up with them. Going after the bearers could also work. Azurite keeps plenty of spares around so he can swap them out when they get tired, but it’d still slow them down a bit more.”

“It’s a start.” I frowned and finally figured out how to word my own proposal. “What would be better is if we could stop him from trying to run completely. Can you think of anything that would make Azurite turn around? Some objective we could threaten that might force him to stop running and face us?”

She thought it over for a minute, then shrugged. “Not much. The siege was the most important thing Sombra had going on here, and you guys already busted that up pretty good. Plus it’d have to be something huge to make him turn around when he’s running for it. The whole reason Azurite is Sombra’s oldest Heritor is his keen sense of self-preservation.” She paused a second, and a grin slowly spread across her lips. “Actually, maybe I’ve got something. Like I said, Sombra might want him dead just for losing this battle. You can bet Azurite knows this too, and he’ll be on the lookout for anything he can use to soften the blow.”

I could follow the logic from there. “So if we give him a chance to redeem himself in Sombra’s eyes, he’ll jump on it. Even if he smells a trap, he’ll probably take a chance as long as he thinks he has a shot of turning it around. Better to take a chance against us in battle than go back to Sombra empty-hooved and die for sure.”

Kukri grinned and nodded. “This one thinks the plan could work. The only question is what bait we use for the trap.”

Colonel Dash leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “I’ve got an idea...”

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” I grumbled as Heritor Azurite’s mobile fortress slowly rumbled towards us. “This is the worst plan I’ve ever heard of, and I’ve had to listen to dozens of Strumming’s ideas.”

“I resemble that remark,” Strumming grumbled just loud enough for me to hear. “Though I guess I should be honored you brought me along. Unless I’m just here to be the expendable one.” None of us said anything, and she shot a playful glare my way. “That’s it, isn’t it? I’m here in case you need somepony to heroically sacrifice herself?”

“Chillax,” Colonel Dash murmured from her hiding place. “This is totally gonna work.”

“I hope you’re right.” Mostly because we would all end up dead if she was wrong. Or worse, wearing mind control helmets.

We’d gone for a small team. Bringing Kukri along had been an obvious choice, and Strumming did have a knack for sneaky off-the-wall solutions. The colonel had insisted on joining up, and since it was her plan it would’ve been hard to cut her out. Besides, she knew the local area and Heritor Azurite’s capabilities a lot better than we did, and if she’d been part of the team to take out Heritor Malachite she was obviously good enough to pull her weight.

Going with just a small team was … nostalgic. Almost like my old youthful mercenary days before I’d become the archon. All the responsibilities that came with running my own nation left me rather short on freetime to go off on dangerous adventures.

Azurite’s ridiculously huge mobile fortress was already visible up ahead. One of the downsides of making something that massive was that it was easy to spot from miles away. Just like the colonel had said, it was being dragged along by a ton of enthralled yaks. It was still managing to move along at a surprisingly good pace despite the fact that the road had been turned to mud by some weather ponies. Either the the fortress’ treads were a lot better at moving through rough terrain than we’d anticipated or there was magic involved, not that it took a genius to guess that the massive mobile crystal fortress was a bit magical.

While I couldn’t say much for Azurite’s taste, he had done a reasonably good job of making his ridiculously impractical home base marginally effective. Rather than a lavish palace with huge soaring spires, it was a squat, ugly little thing dotted with arrow slits and four very basic towers sporting functional machicolations. The only entrance was a proper gatehouse, complete with a portcullis. Unsurprisingly the entire thing had been made out of deep blue crystal, though something a bit harder than Azurite’s namesake gem.

It also had plenty of magical fortification to go with the good engineering. The whole construct was dimensionally anchored, so I couldn’t just teleport past the defenses to open it up from the inside. There were also all the standard spells to make it tougher and harder to break, not to mention cutting down on the natural brittleness of crystals. Even if we could’ve brought some heavy artillery to bear on the thing, it would’ve taken a long time to actually batter down the walls.

Credit where it was due, as ridiculous and impractical as the whole idea of a mobile crystal palace was, they’d at least done a good job of actually building one. Even if we took away the mobility, actually sieging it down would be a tough job. Mindless thralls wouldn’t care about slowly starving to death with no hope of relief, and Azurite almost certainly had a few nasty surprises waiting for anyone who attacked him.

That was why I didn’t plan to try and batter down his fortress. Much better to try a sneaky plan … as long as I didn’t wind up making one that was too clever by half.

I took a quick mental inventory. My armor was in good condition and freshly polished. Both my golems had been fully repaired from the damage they’d taken storming the beaches. I had my runestones made and charged, and I’d triple-checked that all the runes were properly crafted. Kukri, Colonel Dash, and Strumming were all ready to go. Kukri’s golems looked fine too. The colonel’s equipment looked good from what I knew of Wonderbolt gear. Strumming ... she was probably fine.

Four ponies to storm a fortress. Nowhere near enough, but the colonel’s plan wouldn’t work if I had an army at my back. Strumming was pretty certain it would work despite our low numbers, which was almost certainly a warning sign that there was a huge problem with this plan.

Oh well. Time to see how horribly this would go wrong.

I stepped out into the open, letting everyone in Azurite’s fortress get a good look at me, then copied an old spell I’d learned from Celestia that made my voice loud enough to rattle windows. “Heritor Azurite! I am Archon Sunset Shimmer of Freeport! You killed my parents! Prepare to die!”

He didn’t come out right away, but I hadn’t expected him to immediately respond. A trap needs a bit more bait to really work. I had a pretty good guess of what would do the job. “Is this the greatest of Sombra’s generals? A coward who hides behind his walls whenever someone comes to challenge him? I’m sure everyone in Canterlot will laugh when they learn how weak and pathetic the great Heritor Azurite really is.”

That got a response. Most would-be evil overlords hate the idea of being laughed at. It really pops the insane egotistical bubble they live in. The gates slammed open, and a dozen heavily armed and armored ice trolls marched out. Each of the huge brutes stood almost as tall as one of my golems, and while it was hard to tell exactly how ugly their faces were under the crystal plate armor, they still smelled just as nasty as any other trolls. Most of them were carrying huge scythes, swords, and axes with hooked and barbed blades that were probably supposed to be scary. The biggest of the trolls wasn’t armed at all, instead holding a massive skull-topped banner that went on in great detail about every single one of the Heritor’s supposed accomplishments.

Finally, the Heritor himself exited. His massive set of spike-and-skull covered crystalline armor somehow allowed him to look even taller than all the ice trolls he’d picked out as bodyguards. Azurite’s ordinary unicorn-sized head looked comically small inside the suit, almost completely lost between the two ridiculously oversized shoulderpads that probably blocked at least half his line of sight—not to mention the spikes were so long and poorly placed that there was a considerable risk he’d put out one his own eyes if he moved too quickly.

Heritor Azurite glowered down at me, grinning evilly. “So, I killed your parents? Considering how many weaklings I’ve destroyed, you’ll really need to narrow it down a bit.” He paused, then his grin widened as he removed one of the skulls from his banner. “Wait are you ... well well well. Archmagus Runeseeker’s little girl, all grown up. I can see the family resemblance. Don’t worry, after I kill you I’ll put your skull right next to mommy’s.” He nodded to another skull on the banner. “That’s what I did when your daddy came after me.”

I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of rising to the bait. “You talk a big game for someone running away with his tail tucked between his legs after I destroyed his army.”

“Where’s your army now?” he scoffed. “Did you leave them all behind just so you could catch me? A stupid little filly ruling a little city on the edge of nowhere who dropped everything just so she could avenge mommy. Do you have any idea how outclassed you are? I sit at the right hoof of Emperor Sombra himself. Whole provinces tremble at the sound of my name. You think you’ve won? It's only a matter of time until we re-establish the siege, and your minor victory is completely forgotten.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure you’ll pull a whole new army outta your ass ... assuming Sombra doesn’t lop your head off for being a total failure.”

Azurite’s eyes widened, and his voice turned shrill. “I am one of his greatest servants! I have served him since his return! You are a fool if you think he would turn against me just because you managed to insignificantly delay our inevitable triumph.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he never punishes minions who fail him.” I conjured up an icy chair and flopped into it, making myself comfortable. “Go ahead. Go back to the Crystal Empire and tell him how bad you bucked up. I’ll just wait until you come back, or I see your head on top of one of his banners.”

Azurite’s teeth clenched, and I knew I had him. “How about I show him your head instead?!” His horn lit up, and I had more than enough warning time to teleport out of the way before a beam of pure darkness slammed into my icy throne and shattered it into a million pieces.

Azurite glared at me, his entire body trembling with rage. He whirled to his minions. “Kill her! Tear her to pieces! Bring me her head!” His ice trolls wasted no time following his commands, readying their weapons and advancing menacingly.

The ice trolls were big enough to be a problem for me, if not for one rather important factor. “You’re sending ice trolls against a pyromancer? I knew you were stupid, but ... wow.” I chucked a couple fireballs at the brutes to get things started. Their crystal armor blocked the worst of my attack, but between the shaggy hair covering their bodies and the thick layer of oily blubber ice trolls had to protect them against the cold, it didn’t take much. Two of the trolls dropped to the ground, slowly roasting inside their own armor.

Azurite’s eyes widened, and his voice rose a couple octaves. “You think you’ve won? I have not yet begun to show my true power!” As his trolls closed in on me he fired off a huge burst of razor-sharp black crystal shards. The shards themselves were magically inert, which left out most of the traditional options for defending against them. Unfortunately for him, I’d learned a few spells from Celestia. Once more I blinked out of existence, teleporting out of the way of his attack. The shards passed right through where I’d been, continuing on to take one of his trolls in the back and kill it with satisfying thoroughness.

Azurite scoffed and signalled his minions to close in on me while he worked on a new spell. I flash-fried the first of his trolls, but that heavy crystal armor made it tricky to take them down without a lot of power or precision. As they started closing in on me I teleported away, but it took way longer and instead of the usual lightspeed blink it felt like I was slowly crawling through molasses. When I finally reappeared a few seconds later, my tail was missing its last couple centimeters.

The smirk on Azurite’s lips confirmed my fears. He was throwing up some sort of dimensional anchor spell to keep me from doing any more teleporting. Next time I tried, I’d probably lose something a lot more important than a bit of hair.

Of course, that cut down my options for getting away from all the trolls. I managed to down another two before they closed in on me again, but after that there weren’t many viable tactics. My armor was good, but I didn’t want to test my luck against a trolls’ weapons. Even if my armor held up to a hit from one of those huge swords, it would probably break half my ribs just from blunt force trauma. I instead blocked with a force dome, but holding back all those huge troll weapons had me sweating in less than half a dozen hits.

“Foolish little girl,” Azurite scoffed. “You might be good, but you can’t beat me all by yourself. That’s a lesson your parents learned. Oh, wait—they didn’t learn anything, because they died! Just like you’re going to.”

“Who said I came all by myself?” My golems barreled into the trolls to take the immediate pressure off of me, followed shortly by my living allies. Kukri’s smaller golems didn’t have the raw hitting power to trade blows with the trolls like mine, but they were small and quick enough for the others to attack from the rear and flanks while one kept the troll’s attention. Strumming stayed up high, darting for a troll’s face and putting a flechette perfectly through the helmet’s eye slit. By comparison, Colonel Dash’s tactics weren’t too subtle, but slamming into a troll at just shy of the speed of sound was undeniably effective.

Azurite’s jaw dropped as his trolls started to fall. “It doesn’t matter—none of this matters! I don’t need any of my minions to crush you like a bug!” He charged towards me, lifting up one of his massively armored hooves to stomp me flat.

I wasn’t going to let him try that, so I exploited the most obvious weakness of that huge suit of armor. A quick blast of ice at the ground sent his crystal-covered hooves sliding out from underneath him, and the massive Heritor went tumbling to the ground. A second after he hit his body dissolved into living shadow, flickering away from me.

“You running away now?” I shot out, using the opening to put a firebolt through the head of a troll who was giving Strumming a bit of a hard time. “I think I’ll take your fortress for myself. And we’ll laugh at you all the way to Canterlot.”

Azurite’s body reformed. “Funny, your mother said the same thing.” He grinned. “A few minutes later, she was begging me for mercy.”

My teeth clenched. “Shut your filthy mouth!” I chucked a couple wild, unfocused fireballs at him, drawing on my anger to power the spells.

Azurite smirked and swatted my attacks aside. “Oh, did I hurt your little feelings? Would you like to know how daddy died? Maybe you’ll like that one better. By the time I was done with him, he was asking me to send him to join his wife.”

I snarled in wordless rage, hurling a huge ice spear at him. Once again he knocked the attack aside with barely any effort. Then he counterattacked, his shadow separating from himself and rushing in to wrap itself around my hooves, yanking me to the ground. “Dammit!”

Azurite smirked, his shadow hauling me up by the hooves until I was dangling upside down in front of him. “How terribly disappointing. Your parents lasted a lot longer, and didn’t fall for such obvious bait. You really are a stupid little girl, aren’t you?”

“Nope.” My horn lit up and unleashed a blinding flash of light right into his eyes. Azurite groaned and staggered back blindly, his shadow construct torn asunder by beams of pure light. I managed to land reasonably well, but my rune pouch burst open and scattered its contents across the ground.

By the time I was back on my hooves, Azurite seemed to have recovered from the worst of my light blast. “Enough! I’m done playing with you, girl! You’re not the only one who knows how to play with golems!” His fortress shuddered, and four large chunks of it dropped off, reforming themselves into four vaguely equine-shaped effigies of pure crystal. “My master has given me gifts you couldn’t begin to comprehend!”

“Oh yeah, I definitely couldn’t understand golems.” I took a moment to concentrate on my own golems, redirecting them from the struggle against the trolls to deal with their crystal counterparts.

“I still have you outnumbered two to one!” Azurite scoffed.

“Quality over quantity.” I sent an extra pulse of energy to my golems as Azurite’s closed in, making mine smarter, faster, and stronger. The two golems feinted to the sides, then came back to the center to both strike at the same target, shattering it under the combined strike. From there, one of my golems followed up by using its halberd to hook an enemy by the leg and pull it down, and the second followed up with a hammer strike that cracked the crystal mockery’s torso in half.

Azurite’s jaw dropped. “How did you…?” Golems were supposed to have only rudimentary intelligence, capable of only the most basic combat maneuvers and pre-programmed instructions. Mine were several steps beyond that, as I’d demonstrated by channeling a spell through one of them. A sonic pulse shot out of the golem’s fist, slamming into its crystal enemy and reducing it to a pile of blue powder.

I smirked as my golems quickly finished the last of his off. “Is that it?”

Azurite’s jaw had almost hit the ground at just how severe the mismatch was, but he rallied quickly. His eyes went wide. “Fine! I don’t need the golems! I don’t need the trolls! I’ll kill you all by myself!” His horn … didn’t so much light up as suck in all the nearby light around itself. A voice wailed in the distance, slowly growing louder as more and more energy started swirling around him. I knew enough about the nastier side of magic to realize what he was up to: he was tapping into all the dark energy his years of serving Sombra had produced. That could power some extremely powerful spells.

When he opened his eyes they were bright green, with red irises and purple energy whirling around them. “It’s all over, little girl.”

“Yeah, it is.” I took a deep breath and readied up my own spells. “For you.”

I opened up with a tightly focused beam of white-hot flame. Azurite managed to block it, but before he could even think about countering, I fired a burst of pure cold so intense it left an icy trail in the air. I followed that up with a burst of blightfire that withered the grass beneath his hooves, and then sent ice spikes erupting out from the ground aimed at his stomach.

It was everything Azurite could do just to keep up with me. As it was, several of my attacks took chunks out of his crystal armor, slowly whittling down his defenses. The negative energy he’d gathered up could do all sorts of nasty things, but it wasn’t really suited to defensive spells. Dark magic was used to kill, destroy, and dominate.

That’s why I kept up the offensive, hammering away at him with spell after spell so quickly he couldn’t do anything but try to hold me back. He couldn’t hope to match the pace I set unless he’d managed to replicate the synergy of my personal evocation spellcasting style, and that involved taking forces that should have been on opposite ends of the elemental spectrum and putting them in perfect balance so that each spell flowed naturally from the next. Despite years of training from me, Kukri had never managed to replicate it. I wasn’t even sure if Celestia could copy this particular trick. The only two ponies who’d ever managed it had died over eight hundred years ago, and I’d made a lot of improvements on the work of Sunbeam and Midnight Sparkle.

In time, I broke his defenses completely. A shadowy blade cut a chunk out of his shoulderplates, and then a burst of multicolored light shattered one of his greaves. He staggered back in shock, his eyes wide. “No, you can’t—”

“Watch me!” I fired two beams at him, one of pure anima and the other pure anti-anima. The two shot forward, twisting and spiraling around each other until finally merging right as they slammed into his chest. The resulting explosion hit me like a sledgehammer, and I barely managed to stay on my hooves. And I was a lot further away from it than Azurite.

When the dust cleared, the first thing I saw was the shattered remnants of Azurite’s huge set of crystalline armor. The Heritor himself lay several meters past that, his body covered in hundreds of cuts from his armor shattering. One of the spikes from his shoulderpads had lodged itself in his right eye socket, and a steady flow of blood and other fluids trailed down his face.

Outside the armor, he didn’t look impressive at all. In fact, he looked ... ordinary. If I’d passed him on the street I wouldn’t have given him a second glance. Just another small, insignificant little stallion in a big uncaring world. Maybe that was why he’d thrown his lot in with Sombra: it was the only way he’d ever be more than a nobody.

Somehow, he was still alive. The battered stallion hauled himself to his hooves, snarling. “I will not be defeated by some mewling little girl! I am Heritor Azurite! Favored of Emperor Sombra, the ruler of the World! Now I will show you my full power!” His scream gradually rose higher and higher as he dug deeper into the well of dark magic that he’d been using for this entire fight. However, between how much he’d already used and the extent of his injuries, he’d pushed his luck too far.

I felt the air around us tremble as his power started spiraling out of control, the very magic tearing him apart. His ravaged body could no longer contain the forces he was trying to wield, and his body cracked open as dark magic spilled out him. Soon the flesh of his face began burning away, revealing the skull underneath. His scream grew higher and even more horrible, somehow continuing even as his tongue and throat burned away. From there, things got even nastier.

I’m not going to say that he didn’t deserve a nasty death for everything he’d done, but I had my limits. I fired off a quick blast of raw force to finish him off. The blast sent him flying through the air, still howling in agony despite the fact that he didn’t have vocal cords anymore. When he slammed into the wall of his fortress it sent a huge crack up the crystalline structure, and when his body exploded a few seconds later the entire structure slowly came tumbling down.

The silence after Heritor Azurite fell was deafening. If any of his trolls or other minions were still alive, all the fight had gone out of them. No surprise, when he couldn’t order any of his mindless minions around anymore, and the ones like the trolls who served him willingly seemed to regret their decision after seeing their dark master defeated. Personally, I was just glad I’d taken him down. I hadn’t been that close to my birth parents, but ... it felt right, that I’d been the one to finish off their killer.

The others trotted over to me, and Strumming whistled appreciatively. “Nice one, boss-mare.”

Kurki settled in next to me and nodded gravely, her eyes on the remnants of Azurite’s fortress. “Vengeance.”

I let out a slow breath, trying to get a hold of everything going through my head. It was still hard to believe I’d actually pulled it off. “I’m just glad we got him.”

“Darn right we did.” Colonel Dash grinned and slapped me on the back. “Wait until everypony else hears about this. We took out Sombra’s best general! This one’s gonna be in the history books! A hundred years from now, when kids are learning about this war in school, they’ll talk about this. This is the day we started winning the war!”

Author's Note

As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.

Click here if you want to join the list of awesome people who support my writing.

Aidan Hall
Alt Grendel
Batbrony
Benjamin McLaren
Borg Lord
Brion Wauters
Charles M. Hagmaier
Chris Hall
ColdSilverD
Comma-Kazie
Creideiki
Cyanhyde
DaB.
Darkarma
Deep Cover
Dixie Daley
djthomp
Edmon Star
Emlyn Costilow
Errant
FallenAngelXy
Forderz
Jade Walters
Jessica T
MoistGooDragon
Patrick
Ponibius
Shank
Singularity Dream
Sweet Gale
Trinary
waritah
Web of Hope
Zennyth

The Day The World Stopped Making Sense

I was there the day our world stopped making sense.

The official welcoming banquet for myself and the rest of Freeport’s military leadership had been somewhat delayed on account of the battle with Heritor Azurite, but it added an extra layer of celebration to the whole event. Equestria had been happy enough just to have another nation backing them up. Now that we’d actually tipped the balance and won a major victory, my return to Canterlot felt almost like a triumphal victory parade.

Celestia helped contribute to the mood by sending one of her personal chariots to meet me at the edge of the city, accompanied by a substantial honor guard. Then, instead of taking me directly to the palace, the guards led my retinue on a grand tour of the city. I couldn’t complain too much about getting the royal treatment—diplomatically speaking I was technically her equal now, even if I didn’t have wings.

That was a strange feeling. Celestia had been both my teacher and my mother in all but name for a huge chunk of my childhood. Not to mention she was the immortal and eternal ruler of all Equestria. The idea of talking to her as an equal was ... weird. I might’ve grown up, left the nest, and forged my own destiny, but I couldn’t just act like she was just another foreign leader.

I spent a lot of the chariot ride mulling that over. If nothing else, it distracted me from the sights. Passing through Canterlot’s outskirts was ... unsettling. We passed by hundreds of empty homes with overgrown lawns and boarded-up windows, warehouses stocked with war materiel, and grim factories where exhausted ponies staggered through the doors to work twelve hour shifts. Canterlot wasn’t the city of light and laughter I remembered. How could it be, when almost all the ponies there there had either gone off to fight in the war or were working themselves to the bone to support the war effort? We passed by a group of kids who should’ve been playing some silly game in the streets. Instead they were collecting scrap metal in a battered old wagon.

It could’ve been worse. From what I’d heard, the last year of high school had been replaced with boot camp, and instead of a graduation ceremony the kids got a suit of armor, a spear, and a train ride to the front lines. Equestria was fighting for its very survival against Sombra. Anyone who could contribute to the war effort had to, no matter the cost.

As we moved into the city proper, it started to resemble the Canterlot I remembered. The ponies looked a bit leaner and more tired, and the white marble towers didn’t gleam quite as brightly as they had in my memories, but it was still Canterlot. Our procession gradually drew an audience, which grew as word spread and more and more ponies started to filter in. A rumble started up as the ponies began stomping their approval on the ground, and before long cheers and shouts joined them. A couple enterprising musicians started up Freeport’s anthem, and next thing I knew my procession had somehow become the centerpiece of a spontaneous victory parade. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love seeing hundreds of ponies cheering my name.

It didn’t take for long for both myself and Kukri to start playing to the crowd, smiling and waving. Not even seeing Kukri in her natural form deterred their enthusiasm. I guess it shouldn’t have been a surprise—after years of total war, the ponies probably would’ve cheered for anyone who could promise them an end to all their suffering.

Kukri leaned over and discretely whispered to me. “Canterlot looks a bit less romantic than what this one thought it would. The Shimmer-mare’s descriptions of it were always more...” She trailed off, struggling to find the right word.

“It’s not how I remember it either,” I murmured back. “The war's been hard for everyone.”

Kukri grimaced and nodded. “No kidding. The White Pony must have pulled out all the stops if even the capital is looking this grim.”

“Equestria’s had to throw everything it could spare into the war against Sombra.” I sighed, a twinge of guilt passing through me as I spotted a bandaged-up soldier who’d clearly slipped out of the military hospital to see us. The guilt doubled when I realized that some of those battered combat veterans were younger than Kukri. “I should've gotten Freeport involved sooner. I read the reports, but...”

Kukri squeezed my shoulder. “You had a hay of a time talking them into it as it was, Shimmer-mare. Half the Council didn’t see any reason to get involved as long as Sombra didn’t directly threaten Freeport’s interests, the mercenaries thought Sombra might pay better, and the clans have ... history with the White Pony.”

My eyes flicked back to the clan soldiers marching behind us. “I guess this is kind of a homecoming for them, isn't it?”

Kukri frowned uncertainly. “Yes and no. This one supposes that Equestria is our ancient homeland, but it’s been hundreds of years since we left. Not to mention ... well, this one isn’t sure what the old masters from before the war would make of the clans. It can’t imagine they anticipated the likes of this one among their ranks, and a lot’s changed since the days of old Pegasopolis.” Her eyes drifted over the city. “And yet, this one does feel a sort of connection to this place. It’s not exactly home, but it’s ... something.” She took a deep breath. “And even if it’s not this one’s home, it’s yours. That makes it important to this one as well.”

“Thanks.” I smiled and gave her a quick pat on the back, but the smile faded as my thoughts went down a darker path. It was hard to bring up Kukri’s family legacy without thinking on my own, such as it was. “I suppose I should check on my old family home. Wrap everything up and whatnot.” With my parents dead, it was presumably mine now. It felt wrong to leave the place completely empty after it had been in the family for centuries. Maybe I could convert it into ... no. It was a family house. Turning it into a Freeport embassy or something else just felt wrong.

Not that I especially wanted to live there either. Even leaving aside the fact that I was needed in Freeport, I’d barely been to the place since Celestia took me in. Going back now that the place was little better than an empty tomb wouldn’t accomplish anything.

Kukri nudged me. “Shimmer-mare, smile for the crowd.”

I blinked, then quickly plastered a grin on my face as I resumed waving. “Right. I was just thinking about ... stuff.”

My apprentice grunted and nodded. “At least you avenged them. And that’s just the start of it—by the time we’re done, you’ll probably have destroyed Sombra and helped conquer the Crystal Empire. Oh, and you might heal the centuries-old divide between the Freeport Clans and Equestria in your spare time.” She frowned playfully. “You realize the high bar you’re setting for your pupils, don’t you? This one’s always thought that the student should eventually surpass the teacher, but you’re not leaving this one with much room to work with.”

I snickered, and my smile became a bit more genuine. “I’m sure you’ll manage.” I started waving to the crowd again, which seemed to excite them far more than it really should have. “In any case, if you can’t eclipse me you can always carry on my legacy.” I set a hoof on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “I can’t change the world all by myself. Someone will need to go out and actually do stuff while I’m busy being a ruler.”

Kukri beamed, her chest swelling with pride. “This one won’t let you down, Shimmer-mare. Stopping Sombra is just the beginning—reforming Freeport, reconciling the clans with the White Pony, and so many other things.” She took a deep breath. “This one doesn’t know if it can equal you, Shimmer-mare, but it will be there by your side every step of the way. It will be honored to stand at your side.”

I beamed at her. “I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.” Kukri had come a long way from the cute little kid who’d practically tripped over herself for my attention and approval. I’d never really expected to be much of a teacher, but I liked to think I’d done a reasonably good job with her. She might not have my raw talent for magic, but she had a good head on her shoulders, listened to what I told her, and worked hard at mastering every spell I assigned. A lot of teachers would love to have a smart student with that kind of dedication, natural talent or no.

A trio of mares bearing wreaths trotted towards the chariots, giving our golems wary looks and a wide berth as they approached. Once they were close enough they carefully placed the wreaths on the chariot. The flowers didn’t look especially healthy and none of them were edible, but it was the thought that counted. I smiled and nodded at them. “Thank you.”

Kukri echoed me, and the mares scampered back into the crowd. Apparently they weren’t the only ones who thought flowers were a good idea, because before long flower petals started raining down on us. Several hastily drawn banners had gone up, thanking us for joining the war. A few of the locals were even more direct about showing their thanks—the prettier members of my retinue couldn’t seem to go ten steps without someone rushing up to hug or kiss them.

Kukri snickered and jokingly pouted. “Why don’t any of them kiss this one? It could do with a little snack. Being a hero is hard work.” She smirked and nudged me. “At least it knows why you aren’t bothered—you’ve already got a marefriend in Manehattan.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m pretty sure she was just happy about being liberated, same as them.” I grinned and nudged her back. “You’re just getting passed over on account of being up here with me. If you wanna hop off...”

Kukri thought it over for a moment, then shrugged. “This one’s good. Flattering as it would be, receiving love from a complete stranger would feel odd.” She paused thoughtfully. “Though the fact this one could if it wanted to.is ... notable. Ponies will be much less frightened by Free Minds after this. Even in Freeport, we try to keep a low profile. Being able to openly walk through Canterlot in our natural forms sounds ... nice.”

“It’s a brave new world on the horizon.” The crowd gradually thinned as we got closer to the palace, replaced by Celestia’s royal guard. They dipped their spears in salute as my chariot passed as trumpeteers announced our arrival.

Celestia herself was waiting for us on the steps of the palace. At first glance, she hadn’t changed a bit from how she’d looked the last time I saw her—one of the perks of immortality. However, a closer look revealed tired bags under her eyes that no amount of makeup could hide, and her massive flowing mane didn’t seem to have quite as much bounce as I remembered. She seemed to move a bit more slowly and carefully as she moved down the steps to meet us, lacking just a bit of the casual grace she usually walked with.

She looked ... old. A strange thing to say about an unaging immortal, but there it was. Years of fighting to keep Equestria alive had been enough to wear even her down.

Kukri stared at her, her jaw hanging open. “This one ... it had heard the Shimmer-mare’s stories, but it never really believed the White Pony was so...”

I guess she couldn’t tell how worn down Celestia was. To someone just seeing her for the first time, she probably looked so amazing it was easy to miss those details. Or maybe I was one of the few who knew her well enough to see them.

The chariot pulled to a stop, and the two of us stepped out. I hesitated just a second, unsure of how to handle this. On the one hoof, she was the head of state of an allied nation and a powerful, dignified immortal; on the other, she was pretty much my de facto mom, especially now that the only other mare with any claim to the title was gone. There was a big difference between how Archon Shimmer would greet Princess Celestia and how Sunset would say hi to Mom.

Kukri seemed to notice my hesitation. “This one will follow your lead, Shimmer-mare.”

I took a deep breath and made my decision. “She’s the ruler of Equestria, and we’re in public with a huge crowd watching us. Let’s be formal about this.” I approached her with a polite smile, then cleared my throat. “Princess Celestia, on behalf of Freeport I—”

Before I could say another word, Celestia snatched me up and hugged me so hard I could feel my ribs creaking. “Thank you, Sunset. Thank you so much...”

As I recovered from my surprise and hugged her back, Kukri couldn’t resist tossing in a bit of sass. “Yes, of course. Very formal.”

While the rest of my retinue got settled in, Celestia led me to her private library. Or at least, mostly private—a purple unicorn was nose-deep in a book when we got there. Celestia smiled when she saw her, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Sunset, this is my current student, Twilight Sparkle. Twilight, this is Archon Sunset Shimmer, a former student of mine.”

I smiled politely and offered my hoof. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you.”

Sparkle barely glanced up from her book. “Oh. Hi.”

She went right back to reading a second later, as though neither of us were there. The silence stretched on long enough for things to get awkward until Celestia gently cleared her throat. “Twilight, the Archon and I need to discuss a few things in private. Would you mind...?”

“Right.” She marked her place and got up from her seat, trotting out the library to leave the two of us alone.

Once she’d left I tried to think of something nice to say about the mare who’d seemed so focused on her studies she was downright antisocial. “She’s ... a very dedicated student.”

“Yes, she enjoys reading books and writing reports.” A hint of a teasing grin worked its way onto her lips as she nudged me. “Quite a bit more than certain other students I could think of.”

I shrugged. “I was always better at casting spells using Midnight’s addendum to Sunbeam’s Third Law of Thermodynamic Evocation than I was at writing a five-paragraph essay explaining how it worked.”

“Or you just had no patience for it,” Celestia countered, her grin widening. A second later the smile faded slightly, her eyes cutting to the door Twilight had left from. “Though I suppose there is something to be said for valuing practical skills over having a firm grasp of theory and academics. Lessons do eventually need to be applied.”

It wasn’t hard to figure out something was bothering her. Probably something related to her new student, not that she would ever admit it. “Everything okay?”

Celestia sighed softly. “Sunset, I’m in the middle of a desperate war to keep Equestria from being conquered by an insane megalomaniac who wants to reduce my subjects to mind-controlled slaves. It will be a long time before everything is okay.”

“Right.” I was smart enough to read between the lines and pick up on what she’d left unsaid. When Equestria needed every resource it could spare just to stay alive, reading books and writing reports on them wasn’t the most useful skill.

Celestia smiled again, doing her best to move past the awkward moment. “I suppose you understand everything I went through, now that you have your own academy in Freeport. I should be flattered you wanted to copy my school for gifted unicorns.”

“It’s not an exact copy,” I offered in my own defense. “I guess I did take some inspiration from you but ... well, why not follow the example set by the best school there is?”

“There’s no need for flattery, though it is appreciated.” Celestia chuckled. “But yes, as with so many things you’ve forged your own path with your school. If nothing else, your choice of apprentice made that clear. Kukri seems like a fine young lady.”

“I’m proud of her.” I smiled fondly, thinking back on the cute little bug and how much she’d grown up. For a kid who’d started off with no particular talent for magic and the complications that came from a unicorn trying to teach a changeling magic, she’d turned out amazingly.

After meeting Celestia’s latest student, it was hard not to compare the two. Kukri was a magus fighting on the front lines with her own battle golems, while Twilight Sparkle just seemed to be ... lost. Just reading books in the library and avoiding contact with anyone else while the world slowly crumbled around her. She must’ve had huge potential for Celestia to take her in as a student, but for some reason that potential had never come to fruition.

I took a deep breath, and broached the issue without directly mentioning it. “Feels a bit weird though, having Kukri on the battlefield with me. Part of me will always think of her as that cute little kid who was so desperate to please me.”

A wistful smile crossed lips. “I know that feeling all too well. I still remember when you were an adorable little filly playing on my throne pretending you were a princess. Now ... well, I could swear I see a grey hair in your mane.”

“What?” I conjured up an ice mirror and started searching for the offending hair. I probably would’ve kept it up for far too long if I hadn’t heard the chuckles Celestia wasn’t quite able to keep hidden. I dispelled the mirror and glowered at her. “You were just messing with me, weren’t you?”

She smiled teasingly. “Perhaps.”

I grimaced, knowing there was no way to win this. “You’ve got a real mean streak sometimes, Celestia.” I gave her a playful nudge to let her know I didn’t really mean it. “But if you can get away with teasing me about grey hairs, I guess that proves that I've come a long way from writing book reports.”

She smirked at me. “Speaking of growing up, I probably should start asking about grandchildren to spoil if you’re going to insist that I’m a second mother to you. It’s traditional, and in any case you will need an heir.”

I groaned and buried face in my hooves, which just made Celestia start laughing again. No light chuckles this time, it was full-blown belly laughter until there were tears in her eyes. By the time she was done, she was almost gasping for breath, and I was actually getting a little worried. Then she hugged me again. “Oh, it’s been too long since I laughed like that. Thank you, Sunset. Canterlot just hasn’t been the same without you.” She sighed wistfully. “I know every student needs to go out into the real world eventually, and you've done wonderfully at that. Even if we didn’t initially part of the best of terms, it’s ... you’ve grown into a wonderful mare.”

I grunted and nodded. “It wasn’t always an easy road, and there are a lot of things I would’ve done differently, but I’d rather do what I did than never leave the nest.”

“That I can't disagree with.” She frowned, her eyes pensively flicking towards the door Twilight had exited. “There were worse paths you could have gone down.”

Time to stop being subtle and dive right in. “Mind if I ask a personal question?”

“Go ahead.” Her smile fell a bit. “It’s ... I suppose one of the more selfish reasons I’m glad you’re the Archon of Freeport is that now we can truly speak as equals.”

That sounded nice in theory, but I doubted I’d ever stop thinking of her as my teacher and mother. Still, I gave it my best shot. “Kukri seems to be about same age as Twilight, and when we landed at Manehattan she had her own ship, company of ground troops, and golems. Your student…?”

She sighed softly and closed her eyes. “Twilight ... yes. If I’m being honest, I’m not sure what to do with her. Ever since she ... how much do you know about the events surrounding my sister's return?”

I frowned and tried to remember what I’d heard. At the time it all went down I’d been in the middle of a bunch of insanity in Zebrica, and far too busy to worry about what was going on thousands of miles away. “I remember the sun going down and not coming back up for a while, and then I heard that Nightmare Moon had returned and you stopped her.”

Celestia flinched, her head hanging low. “Yes, I did. What nobody else knows is that before I intervened personally, I sent Twilight to recover and use a powerful magical artifact to free Luna of her madness.”

I could guess the rest. “It didn’t work?”

She nodded glumly. “I had hoped that Twilight would be able to use the Elements of Harmony to purge Luna of her madness, but she was unable to find and activate them in time. I gave her as much time as I could, but once it was clear that delaying any longer would cost innocent lives...” Her wings wilted, and she couldn’t bring herself to meet my eyes. “I did what was necessary to keep my ponies safe. I think...” Her voice cracked, and it took several seconds before she could continue. “I think that if Luna were well, she would have wanted someone to stop her before she claimed any innocent lives.”

I immediately hugged her. “I’m so sorry.” It sounded so trite and nowhere near sufficient, but I didn’t know what else I could say to her. What could you say to a mare who’d been forced to kill her own sister?

Celestia held me, refusing to let go for a long time. “I had hoped so much to have my sister back, I had everything planned out in detail, but Twilight didn't—” She stopped herself from saying it outright, but I could guess what she’d been thinking. “I suppose plans rarely work neatly, but now my only sister is gone. That is a bitter pill to swallow.”

I sighed and shook my head. “I can’t even imagine what that would feel like.”

She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I have endured it, as I have for the last millennium. While Twilight ... the experience with Nightmare Moon shook her, badly. Especially once the gravity of everything that had happened fell on her.”

“So that’s why she’s so…?” I tried to think of a diplomatic way to describe how closed-off and antisocial she was.

“Reserved?” Celestia suggested. “Even before the incident with my sister, she preferred her books to the company of other ponies. However, I cannot imagine her fail—” Celestia caught herself and quickly corrected it. “That everything she went through had a positive effect on her. Not to mention that, like nearly all of my ponies, the war has been hard on her. Her brother was part of Cadance’s expedition to the Crystal Empire.”

I grunted and nodded. “Seems like everypony in Equestria has lost someone.” I sighed and shook my head. “Every time I hear about how bad this war has gone for you, it makes me wish I'd gotten here sooner.”

“You came as quickly as you could,” Celestia reassured me. “Your first responsibility was to your own subjects, not your old homeland. Not to mention that you needed to persuade both them and the Council to risk your own lives and freedom to aid a foreign nation that wasn’t even an ally. It’s amazing you got here as quickly as you did.”

“I know.” I took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “At least I’m here to help now. That’s the most important thing, right?”

“It is, and as the parade doubtlessly showed we’re all very glad to have you here.” She smiled at me, though it looked far too brittle. “Your help might be what finally tips the balance in a war that has already lasted far too long. Breaking the siege of Manehattan is the first real progress we’ve made since we halted Sombra’s initial offensive.”

“More than two years of stalemate,” I murmured. It was hard not to feel a little proud of the fact that we’d managed to accomplish so much in so little time. “I've heard Sombra’s been pulling back on other fronts since Manehattan. Shortening his lines, reorganizing, and taking stock.”

Celestia nodded. “I did launch a few limited offensives to keep him from diverting too many troops to Manehattan. Your offensive tore a massive hole in his front. Pity we were in no condition to exploit it, but trying to go on the offensive when my army badly needs rest could end in disaster. We’ve still saved Manehattan, defeated his best general, and struck a massive blow against his army. That will be enough for now.”

I trotted over to a large map which showed all our current deployments and our latest intelligence on Sombra’s positions. “Once my army’s done reorganizing in and getting our logistics settled, I’ll see about putting some pressure on Sombra’s lines. I know your soldiers are tired, but at least morale seems to be through the roof.”

Celestia smiled and stepped over to my side. “This has been the best news they’ve had since the Battle of Los Pegasus. Your victory also brings far more than just the defeat of his armies; according to the EIS, Sombra’s supply lines are in terrible shape. He’s forced most of the ponies he captured into his armies and has been stripping his occupied territory bare to keep them in the field. It would seem he was counting on the capture of Manehattan to provide him with fresh plunder, bodies, and access to a warm-water trade port. Not only have you denied him all those things, but with Freeport in the war I expect he will find even fewer willing to trade with him in what ports he does hold.”

“I did my best to deter any smugglers from doing business with him,” I added. Despite all my efforts to clean Freeport up, there were always a few less reputable merchants who couldn’t resist the lure of all the crystals Sombra had to trade.

“Which is all I could ever ask of you, and more than I expected from Freeport.” She settled heavily into one of her seats. “While the cost of this war is heavy for my ponies, they would never surrender to a megalomaniac who intends to turn them all into mindless slaves. Now, with your help, we can finally put an end to this madness.”

“You can count on me.” I hesitated a moment, then carefully amended. “Winning at Manehattan should silence any voices of dissent in Freeport. As long as the war goes our way, I don't think I’ll have any problems on that front. I should probably warn you though, if it turns into a long ugly slog with no visible progress and no clear gains for Freeport, all the people who didn’t want to get involved in the first place will start making noise again.”

A wry grin spread across her lips. “Gains for Freeport. I suppose that several of our current trade agreements will need to be renegotiated after the war. Perhaps a few trade posts in the north as well? The caribou and yaks will certainly be in no position to object.”

I answered her with a smile of my own. “You did say that my first duty was to my own subjects. And really, reducing some tariffs is a small price to pay for saving Equestria.”

Celestia sighed, but the smile never left her face. “I suppose you’re right about that.” She leaned in and whispered. “Besides, I would’ve given you the new trade agreement even without the war. It’s naturally in my interests to support my former student, and handing her a harmless political victory that benefits trade between both our nations is perfectly reasonable. As for the rest ... well it’s entirely possible it could end up being a moot issue.” Her horn lit up, and a hidden doorway behind her bookshelf opened.

I couldn’t resist commenting. “Really? You hid the secret door behind your bookshelf? How clichéd can you get?”

“It wasn’t a cliché when I did it,” Celestia answered. “I half-wonder if I’m the one responsible for planting the idea. One of the many joys of immortality.”

She led me into the sealed room, past dozens of wards that made my skin tingle and my mane stand on end. It was a stark reminder that even if I’d graduated from being her student to become her nominal equal, she still had thousands of years of experience on me.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t a library. Before I could take much time to see what sort of books Celestia had on the shelves, she pulled out a single scroll and unrolled it in front of me. “I thought it best that you see this ... just in case it should come up.”

I started reading, but put it aside barely a paragraph in. “No, Celestia. We’re not having this conversation.”

She sighed patiently. “Sunset, we’re in the middle of a war—one whose front lines I have personally fought several times. It would be irresponsible not to have some sort of plan in place in the event of my own demise.” She fixed a knowing gaze on me. “I’m sure you made similar arrangements before leaving Freeport. Was it Kukri, or Puzzle?”

“Kukri for Archmagus, Puzzle for Archon,” I confessed. “But that’s different. I’m ... you ... you’re ... there’s no way you could...”

She patiently set a hoof on my shoulder. “I certainly don’t intend to die anytime soon, Sunset. But if the worst should happen, I want to know that Equestria will be in good hooves.”

I grimaced and shook my head. I probably should’ve been honored by it: Celestia was officially adopting me as her daughter and naming me her heir and successor. For a long time that would’ve been a dream come true. Now it felt more like a nightmare. The idea of losing Celestia was just ... I didn’t want to think about it. She’d been alive for thousands of years. Thinking of a world without her was like a world without ... well, the sun.

Oh horseapples, if something happened to her would I have to...

She sighed softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you so much. We can go over the rest of this a bit later, once you’ve had time to take it all in.

“Right.” I closed my eyes and took a couple deep breaths. “Sorry, I just ... it’s a lot to take in.”

“I know.” She wrapped her wing around me and gave me a gentle squeeze. “Now then, I wouldn’t mind your advice on a few matters. A fresh brain might help us make the war effort more efficient or see something we’ve missed.”

I nodded, quite relieved to have something safe and unthreatening like the war to discuss. “I figured there would be a full joint briefing to decide on our new disposition. If my army’s going to spearhead the next big offensive, we’ll need to hammer out where that offensive should be.”

“Of course,” Celestia agreed easily. “My generals already see a couple promising possibilities they would like to run by you and your commanders. We have a joint briefing scheduled for tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds good.”

She took a deep breath. “In the meantime, there is one other matter I was hoping to discuss with you. I ... was wondering if you had any advice about what I should do with my student.” She chuckled softly. “It seems odd to ask a former student for teaching advice, but you would have unique insight on my teaching methods. Not to mention you seem to have become quite the skilled teacher, if Kukri and your academy are anything to judge by. And Twilight ... it’s obvious my student is troubled, but I’m afraid that with the war I simply don’t have the time or energy to give her the help she needs.”

I frowned and tried to think it over, quickly reaching the only conclusion I could see. “You need to break her out of the rut she’s in. She’s not going to get any better if you just let her sit in the library reading books all day.”

“I know.” She sighed and shook her head. “The problem is deciding on what to do with her. If I send her out into the field ... I know she was badly shaken by her performance on her first assignment, and her mental state and self-confidence have only declined since. If I put her in a magus cloak and send her into battle, I could easily be signing her death warrant. A research job or something in logistics would suit her talents and keep her far away from combat, but there would be questions about why I’m giving my one of my former students a safe job while other ponies send their sons and daughters to die on the front lines.”

I thought it over for a bit. “Send her on a non-combat job. I know you’ve got every half-decent battle magus fighting on the front lines, but I can’t imagine you’ve completely abandoned all other magus activity. Have her do some basic investigation work, settle a legal dispute—something. Just make it a quick job that gives her an easy success to bolster her up a bit and will be done before anyone can get too grumpy about it.”

“A good idea, but only a temporary solution.” Celestia grimaced. “In hindsight, I should have done that before my sister returned. I just ... magus work can be hazardous. Even what looks like a simple, easy, routine task will often prove to be far more than it seems. I remember one of her ancestors ... I could send poor Midnight to mediate a minor succession dispute only for her to return with a report about monsters, murder, and mayhem.”

“I can think of a few jobs I had that went the same way.” I frowned down at the map. “That’s a chance we’ll have to take. If we don’t send her out to do anything because it might be more dangerous than it looks, she’ll still be in your library when she’s old and grey. After she wraps up those softball assignments ... send her to me. We’ll need liaisons and officer exchanges, and sending your current student to work with a former one should look fine to any outside observers.” With any luck, I would be able to give her the kick in the plot she needed to actually do something with her life.

Celestia smiled, looking like a weight had been taken off her shoulders. “That sounds like an excellent idea. I just hope she doesn’t take this as me casting her aside.”

“It’s not like we parted on the best of terms either. We both got over it.” I regretted getting into a big fight with her when I’d stopped being her student, but we’d eventually patched things up. Twilight needed to move forward with her life, and Celestia wouldn’t be doing her any favors by keeping silent just to avoid hurting her feelings. “Once the war’s over, you can give her a research grant and let her do as much book work as she wants.”

“Indeed so.” She grimaced and shook her head. “Though I suppose that is a matter for another day. After all that's happened I’m not too eager to get ahead of myself.”

“Winning the war does take precedence over everything else.” One of the main reasons I wanted to get this problem squared away was so Celestia would stop worrying about her current student and be able to completely focus on the war. I could sympathize with her being so distracted. If something had been wrong with Kukri, it would’ve bugged me far more than it should.

“We have more than enough work as is.” She frowned thoughtfully. “I think I have just the thing for her first assignment. We received a report from a factory worker in Ponyville about a temporal anomaly—most likely one of them just having a bit too much cider at the end of a twelve hour shift, but it’s only prudent to investigate.”

I grunted and nodded. “Better safe than sorry. I don’t want to find out too late that Sombra’s built some sort of crazy time distortion cannon he plans to use against us and decided to test-fire it on a random factory worker.”

“It wouldn’t be the most outlandish thing he has done,” Celestia murmured. “And a simple investigation into a magical phenomenon should be exactly the sort of thing Twilight would be good at. She’s studied magic extensively, and has a good analytical mind.”

“Sounds like you have that squared away,” I agreed. “Once she wraps that up and files her report, send her to me and I’ll put her on liaison work.” Probably with Strumming. If I wanted someone who could boot Twilight out of her comfort zone and force her to do some growing...

“That’s settled then.” Celestia cleared her throat. “I believe my staff should have the welcoming banquet we’ve prepared for you just about ready. It is perhaps a touch wasteful in such difficult times, but considering the impact of Freeport’s aid we can spare a few resources on ceremony. Certainly everypony likes the idea of celebrating your entry into the war.” She grinned, and I could swear I saw an evil glint in her eyes. “And it gives me the chance to tell Kukri stories about the antics you got up to when you were my student.”

I groaned and buried my face in my hooves.

The next few days passed in a blur of meetings, planning, and the occasional bit of ceremonial pageantry to help keep morale up. It still felt a bit weird being back in Canterlot after all this time, seeing old familiar places and how they’d been changed by the war. It was strange to realize that my old hometown didn’t really feel like home anymore. At some point, Freeport had captured my heart. Canterlot might be the pinnacle of art and sophistication, but every time the crisp clean mountain air hit my nostrils I found myself missing the stinky fish smell of the docks.

We’d spent most of the morning hammering out a rough plan of action for the next major offensive. We’d decided to go up the east coast to secure the ports in former caribou territory, even if it was one of the more conservative courses to take. Better to play it safe and cut off his resources than risk everything on an immediate big push against the Crystal Empire’s capital. There’d been a fair bit of pressure to retake Vanhoover, but the city had been completely evacuated before Sombra captured it. Between that and the fact that my army would’ve needed to completely cross Equestria to reach it, Vanhoover would have to wait.

Of course, explaining that to all the ponies who used to live there hadn’t been an easy job. By the time Celestia and I had wrapped that up, I was ready for a break. “So, lunch first. What’s the plan for after that?”

“We’ll be meeting with the families of some of our new recruits.” Celestia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m asking them to send their sons and daughters to fight on the front lines; the least I can do is offer them a few words of comfort. I would like to have you there, unless you have other plans.”

“Nothing that can’t wait.” I was tempted to make an excuse not to do something that would probably be deeply unpleasant, but rulers had to do that kind of thing. Refusing to comfort a few ponies just because it would make me uncomfortable was the coward’s way out. Besides, if I was really going to end up being Celestia’s succe—

No. Not going there. It just wasn’t going to happen.

Celestia smiled and gave me quick pat on the back. “But first, lunch. My chefs might have given up a few of the more exotic ingredients on account of the war, but there’s often virtue to be found in simplicity. A few carrot dogs, hay fries, and a slice of cake.” I raised an eyebrow at the last, and she shrugged. “I’ve given up most of my other indulgences. I can keep my cake.”

“It’s a small enough thing.” Not to mention that growing up as Celestia’s student had left me with a firm appreciation for high-quality baked goods. “Kukri said she needed to do some cleanup on her golems, so she won’t be joining us.”

Celestia raised an eyebrow. “I do hope everything’s alright with them.”

“Just a bit of corrosion buildup, nothing standard maintenance won’t take care of.” I’d been a bit annoyed with her when I found out about it, since when I’d checked them over it looked like they hadn’t been taken care of for months. Kukri’d insisted that she’d thoroughly checked them over after the Battle of Manehattan, and I didn’t see any reason not to believe her. Something must’ve happened to them during transit.

“Very well then.” Celestia led the way to her dining room, pulling out a chair for me. “I was also thinking we could go over that private matter of contingency plans we discussed earlier. I know it’s a difficult subject, but...”

“Right.” I grunted out. I still wasn’t eager to deal with it, but Celestia wasn’t going to let the matter rest. “What, exactly?”

She smiled mysteriously. “There are quite a few spells you’ll need to learn. Not to mention ... well, in light of other events I’ve begun to change my opinion on destiny. Perhaps instead of just letting ponies fulfill their destinies at their pace, it’s time I gave destiny a nudge in the right direction.”

Well, that wasn’t cryptic at all.

Once the two of us had settled in, the castle staff brought out two covered trays for us. I couldn’t help but grin in anticipation. My own chefs in Freeport had never quite managed to perfectly replicate Equestrian cuisine. Not that I would ever complain about the amazing things they could do with breadfruit, kelp, seafood, and the other staples of Freeport cuisine—not to mention the many bizarre fusion dishes that came from living in a huge trade hub—but they hadn’t mastered the flavors of home.

Then servers opened up the trays.

I flinched away at the smell. A putrid, rotting, sickly-sweet stench assaulted my nostrils, one that belonged well away from the dinner table and closer to a compost heap. What little seasoning the chefs had left would probably have been like trying to put perfume on a cadaver, and I had the feeling that taking a bite of it would forever ruin the spices for me.

Under the circumstances, my reaction was restrained. “What the hay?!”

Celestia frowned and raised a single eyebrow. “Would someone care to explain why the Archon and I have been served rotten food?”

The servers looked just as stunned as we were, their jaws hanging open and panic in their eyes. “Your Highness ... Archon ... I don’t ... I checked the food myself before we ... I’m so sorry, I’ll fix this!”

For a second I was tempted to snap at him, but that was just my annoyance with the situation. I slowed down and thought it over. Why would the staff deliberately serve us rotten food? It was a sure way to get fired. For that matter, how could any one of them do it without the cooks and dozens of other servants noticing and saying something?

No, something else was going on here. I closed my eyes and threw an analysis spell at the food. It confirmed that everything was exactly what it looked like: the food had been cooked close to a month ago. But that made no sense unless...

I widened the scope of my spell.

Celestia’s eyes snapped open. “We need get everypony into a magically secured shelter. Now.”

I wasn’t going to argue with her. Not after what I’d just learned from my own spells. “There’s still one in the palace basement, right?” One of the guards nodded. “Well what are you waiting for?! Move!”

Celestia nodded sharply, turning to one of her lieutenants. “Organize the evacuation as quickly as possible. We only have minutes before it gets worse.”

The guardpony frowned, blinking in confusion as he tried to keep up with us. “Before what gets worse, Your Highness?”

Then the first screams started.

Celestia’s face fell. “Oh no. The families...”

We rushed out into the reception hall, where the families of the latest batch of freshly recruited guardponies had been waiting for us. In the middle of a circle of terrified screaming ponies lay a single shriveled, brown, desiccated mass of flesh. It looked like something that might have once been a pony, hundreds of years ago.

A grey pegasus mare rushed over to us, terror in her eyes. “Princess! Princess, please, I can’t find my daughter! She was just here!”

Celestia took a deep breath, schooling her face into a careful expression of calm neutrality. “What happened to her, Ditzy?”

“She was right next to me! Somepony screamed, and then the scream...” She gasped for breath, the air pounding in and out of her lungs so fast she was on the verge of hyperventilating. “I p-pulled her back so we could get away, but she was younger!”

“Younger?”

“Younger!” She latched onto Celestia’s shoulders. “She w-w-was half as big as she was when w-we came in, and her cutie mark was gone!”

“What happened after that?” Celestia’s voice seemed way too calm. I knew what that meant: she’d already guessed the same thing I had.

“I picked her up and started to g-go, but she said ... she said...” She quickly wiped the tears out of her eyes. “I looked down and saw her. Sh-sh-she ... it was my baby. The little foal f-from the delivery room. She looked up at me and said ‘Ma.’ And then she was—she was—” She wrapped her forelegs around herself, holding the empty space where her daughter should have been.

Celestia hugged her. “Oh Ditzy ... I’m so sorry.” She tried to shift the hug towards a gentle push, moving her towards the rest of the ponies rushing to the evacuation zone.

Ditzy went along with it at first, but about halfway to the door she suddenly and violently pulled away from the princess. “No, we can’t go yet! She’s—where is she? Princess, we’ve got to find her! Dinky! Where are you, baby?!”

“Ditzy...” Celestia said very softly. “I’m so sorry, but she’s gone.”

“NO!” The mare violently shook her head and began frantically darting around the room. “She was just here! My daughter was just here, please we've got to find her please! We have to find her! Dinky honey, please come out! This isn’t funny anymore! DINKY!”

I sighed and did the only thing I could to help her. My stun spell caught her in the back, taking her completely by surprise. The mare blinked in shock, then slowly slumped to the floor with a moaning, wordless wail.

Celestia quickly picked the half-conscious mare up and draped her over her own back, but she spared a faintly reproving look for me. I sighed and shook my head. “You know she never would’ve come willingly. Not after...”

She closed her eyes and very slowly nodded. “We need to hurry if we’re going to get everypony to safety. We’ve lost too many already.”

We rushed down to the secured bunker, picking up as many other civilians as we could along the way. The mare on Celestia’s back kept wailing, long after we sealed the door behind us.

Author's Note

As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.

Click here if you want to join the list of awesome people who support my writing.

The Day It All Came Tumbling Down

I was there the day it all came tumbling down.

We left the bunker once the worst of the event had passed. After that came the grim task of finding out just how badly we’d been hurt.

My first instinct was to start personally investigating, but that was an impulse from my old magus days. I was a ruler now, and rulers didn’t go running around at random helping out one or two ponies. They sat back and coordinated the response so hundreds could be saved.

No matter how many times I reminded myself of that, it still felt wrong to stand in the throne room next to Celestia, waiting for the next report to come in. I wanted to be out in the field helping ponies myself, not sitting back and listening to how well other ponies were doing at actually going out and getting something done.

Celestia put a gentle hoof on my shoulder, smiling gently. She didn’t say anything, but I could tell she knew what was going through my head. I took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Does it ever get any easier?”

Her smile wavered, and a hint of sadness entered her voice. “No.”

I sighed and nodded, shifting uncomfortably on my hooves. “Had a feeling that was going to be the answer.”

“Leadership is a heavy burden,” Celestia murmured. “But one I know you are capable of bearing. You have done well as Freeport’s Archon, and should you be required to do more than that I am certain you will be up to the challenge.”

I grimaced and shook my head. “I’d rather not find out.”

She chuckled softly. “For all my faith that you would make a fine successor, I would be perfectly happy if we never had to put that to the test. I have lived a full and rich life, and I would prefer to go on doing so for many years hence.” She leaned in closer and whispered. “Not to mention you haven’t given me any grandchildren to spoil yet...”

I groaned and buried my face in my hooves, but couldn’t help laughing a little at the absurdity of the situation. The laughter died in my throat a second later. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing when ... it’s not an appropriate time.”

Celestia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I think at times like this, we need laughter more than ever. It reminds us what we’re fighting for, and why our lives are worth living.”

I wasn’t going to argue the point. I’d much rather laugh at terrible jokes about Celestia spoiling my hypothetical future heirs than sit around brooding while we waited for the latest casualty reports.

Archmagus Twilight Velvet trotted in a few minutes later, carrying a folder. “Your Highness, Archon. We have a few updates.”

Celestia nodded gravely. “Go ahead.”

Velvet opened up her folder, doing her best to keep her voice clinical and detached. “Our current casualty estimates are at just over one thousand dead, with three times that wounded. There are still many ponies unaccounted for, so both of those figures are likely to rise.”

A thousand dead. Probably more. Not a huge blow in the grand strategic scale, but more than enough to be painful. “Do we have an idea how big of an area the anomaly affected? Were there any prominent casualties?” It felt wrong to set some of the dead above others, but this was the capital of Equestria. If half our generals had been time-shifted to oblivion, we needed to know as soon as possible.

Velvet grimaced. “Thankfully, the bunkers at the palace, Celestia’s School, West Hoof, and the Kicker Compound protected most of our leaders. Duke Blueblood was the most notable loss, and even if he’s back in diapers he’s still alive. We haven’t heard of any temporal anomalies in any other cities, but it will probably be days before we can be sure that we were the only area affected by this phenomenon.”

Celestia frowned and nodded. “I will want to know as soon as we have more information. Have we identified the source of the temporal anomaly?”

Velvet shook her head. “We’ve opened up a preliminary investigation, but at the moment most of our resources are focused on rescue and recovery. We already have several promising lines of inquiry to pursue.”

I scowled and stared out the window, to the north. “How many of those working theories say Sombra was responsible for this?”

“Most of them,” she admitted. “He is the logical suspect for an attack on this scale. He sent out several statements claiming he would inflict devastation the likes of which the world had never seen to punish us for defeating him. At the time, we assumed it was the usual bluster he does every time he doesn’t get his way. Now...”

Celestia nodded, a faint scowl tugging at her lips. “Quite. I want to know exactly how he did this to us and how we can defend against such attacks in the future. I will not allow this to happen again.”

“I think we all agree on that point,” the Archmagus answered grimly. “I’ve sent my apprentices to get every single book we have on time alteration. Hopefully we can find something useful, though we do have limited resources to work with. It’s something of an inevitable consequence of how heavily we restrict research into temporal magic.”

I grunted and grimaced. “For good reason, considering what happened out there.”

Celestia sighed and nodded. “Pity Sombra cares nothing for what magic we deem too dangerous to use. If anything, the knowledge that we have forbidden it would make him even more likely to attempt such spells.”

I took a deep breath. “I’d like to have some of my magi help with the research. It never hurts to have a couple extra sets of eyes.”

Velvet turned to Celestia expectantly, awaiting her answer. Celestia barely needed a second to think it over before answering. “Give them the same level of access one of our own magi of equivalent rank would hold.” She smiled at me. “I trust you will give your word that they behave themselves?”

I smirked and nodded. “I’ll tell them to keep their voices down and not spill any drinks or dogear the pages. I’ll make sure they know all your security procedures, and I’ll deal with any violations of your protocols appropriately.” I paused a moment, then asked. “You haven’t changed the rules too much since I left, have you?”

“Not too significantly.” Celestia grinned teasingly. “Though certain texts on pyromancy might be a bit harder for certain overeager young students to get their hooves on. We wouldn’t want them trying a spell that’s a bit too advanced and accidently burning off half their tail.”

I sniffed haughtily. “I have no idea what you could possibly be hinting at, Your Highness.”

Archmagus Velvet lifted a single eyebrow at our exchange, then got back to business. “If the Freeport magi can contribute, then I would hardly complain. We could certainly use all the help we can get.”

“You have it,” I assured her.

Celestia nodded firmly. “I want this to be one of our highest priorities. If this can happen to someplace like Canterlot, then it could happen anywhere in Equestria. If Sombra can target our military forces, he could undo everything we’ve accomplished with Archon Shimmer’s help—not to mention the panic we’ll have on our hooves if word gets out that Sombra has a means of magically attacking our cities that we can’t defend against.”

“Agreed.” The Archmagus frowned and rubbed her chin. “You might recall that you sent my daughter to investigate a possible temporal incident a week ago. I would like to send someone to see if she’s learned anything. It could just be a coincidence given how dubious the report was—I doubt a factory worker named after an alcoholic beverage has formal education in advanced temporal theory and mechanics.”

“She doesn’t need to go to a university to have working eyes and ears,” I countered. “What exactly was in her report?”

“She claimed to have encountered a time travelling alicorn who showed her a magical crystal table.” The skepticism in Velvet’s voice was obvious.

Well when she put it like that, it did sound pretty dubious. However, one detail stood out quite strongly. “A crystal table?”

“Hmm.” Celestia’s lips thinned as she pressed them together. “Sombra does like crystals.”

I nodded, not liking where this led. “Do you think your daughter would be able to confirm if there’s anything to this report? As questionable as certain elements of it are, between the timing and some of the details...”

Velvet frowned and nodded. “Twilight’s a very intelligent young mare, and eager to prove herself. She’s very capable when given a challenge she’s prepared for that suits her abilities. She’ll get to the bottom of what’s going on.”

I decided to ignore the implied criticism of Celestia’s teaching methods. Not that I didn’t have issues of my own with her style, but it really wasn’t germane to the matter at hoof. “Let’s get a report from her. Send someone out to check on results or else call her back to Canterlot to present them herself, whichever would work better.”

The Archmagus raised an eyebrow, then rather pointedly turned to face Celestia. Evidently I’d overstepped by outright giving her orders.

Celestia stepped in to smooth over the wrinkle. “I would also be very interested in hearing what Twilight has to say. Also, to avoid any potential confusion, Archon Shimmer should be included in all briefings, and any suggestions she might offer should be followed so long as they do not directly contradict my orders.” She softly cleared her throat, then added, “If I should be absent or unavailable for an extended period of time, you may assume that she speaks in my stead.”

The older mare’s eyes darted between the two of us, her face shifting to a carefully unreadable mask. “Ah. I see. Very well then.” She was silent for a few moments longer, presumably working out exactly why Celestia would give me so much trust and authority. She didn’t let that distract her for too long. “If there is nothing else, I will contact my daughter at once and inform both of you of whatever she has learned.”

Celestia smiled gratefully. “Thank you very much for all your hard work, Archmagus. I know I have asked a great deal of you, your daughter, and the ponies under your command. I will not forget your efforts.”

I figured I should say something too. “If you need any additional resources, let me know. Freeport would be more than happy to assist its ally.”

“Naturally, Archon.” Her eyes flicked between myself and Celestia one more time, then she bowed to her princess and turned to go.

Once she was out of the room, Celestia turned to me with a knowing smile. “I think she might have guessed my plans for you. Or at least, she suspects there’s more to this than a mere alliance between two foreign powers.”

I shrugged. “She didn’t become an Archmagus without having a good head on her shoulders.” A frown worked its way onto my face as I thought over just how much groundwork she was laying for a possible succession. “This is only a contingency plan, right? You don’t think anything’s actually going to happen, you just want to make sure we’re ready for the worst-case scenario.”

Ever since she’d informed me of her plans, a part of me had wondered if there was more to it than what she’d told me. Celestia always seemed to just ... know things. What if she’d gotten some hint that she needed to start preparing for her own death?

She must’ve been able to tell what was going through my mind, because she put a reassuring hoof on my shoulder. “Yes, Sunset. It’s nothing but a backup plan.” A mischievous grin flickered across her lips. “And, of course, it’s a means of binding you more tightly to Equestria, so that I can undermine Freeport’s independence and eventually annex it.”

“That’s a joke, right?”

Celestia’s smile widened, though she said nothing.

I groaned and rubbed my forehead. “I don’t remember you messing with me this much back when I was a student.”

“That’s because you were my student,” she answered easily. “I was in a position of authority over you and had to act responsibly. Now you are my daughter, my friend, my heir, and my political ally. All positions that allow me far more leeway.”

I snorted. “So that’s your excuse?”

She grinned. “You have to admit, it’s a very thorough one.”

I chuckled and nodded. If teasing me made her happier than she’d been since this whole war started, I wasn’t going to object. She needed every bit of joy she could get. “You think Velvet will talk about what she suspects?”

“No, she’s always been very discrete.” Celestia shrugged. “Though rumors might well spread from some other source. Anypony with eyes can see that we are very close and have been spending a great deal of time together, and your prior association with me is no secret. I’m sure there are many who suspect I might name you as my heir simply from the facts anypony on the street could glean. I doubt it will be an issue, in any case. If anything, the rumors will raise your status and help prepare everypony should the worst happen.”

“That makes sense.” Puzzle had done a few similar things to help me build up my position in Freeport—either planting rumors to prepare the ground, or planting false ones so I would catch everyone by surprise when I did the opposite of what they suspected. “I think I’m okay with it slowly leaking out into the public, as long as we keep it looking good. I don’t want ponies thinking I only agreed to help you in exchange for this or something.”

Celestia smirked. “I imagine half of Freeport would think more highly of you if they believed you’d driven a hard bargain instead of helping me without expecting any reward.”

“In my defense, there is a lot of self-interest for Freeport,” I pointed out. “If Sombra wins this war, he won’t stop at Equestria’s borders. Even if he didn’t come after us right away, Equestria makes for a much better neighbor than an expansionist hegemonic empire.”

“That’s true, but it’s not the main reason you wanted to help me.” She leaned down and whispered with a knowing smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about your hidden altruistic side.”

“I’d appreciate it,” I shot back. “I have a reputation to maintain.”

She smiled and nodded. “Very good then. And on the note of establishing expectations, I think that once this crisis is over we can do a few more things to help with that.”

I took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, probably a good idea.” I grinned at her. “You know, if Puzzle was here, he'd probably tell me to take full advantage of this and chase after some of those silly fillyhood dreams I gave up on a long time ago.”

Celestia rose, a cryptic grin on her lips. “Those silly dreams of your might not be so distant as you think. In fact, they might be coming true very soon indeed.”

What? Did she mean...

She couldn’t possibly mean...

I would’ve asked for clarification, but by the time I’d gotten over my surprise Celestia was long gone. I sighed and grumbled under my breath. “She always has to have the last word...”

I slept through Twilight Sparkle’s return to Canterlot. I’d been a bit annoyed with Celestia when she hadn’t sent anyone to wake me up, but I couldn’t exactly disagree that I’d needed the sleep. I’d been up half the night making sure we were doing everything possible to help out with the recovery operations. The worst of the damage seemed to have been contained for the moment, but morale was still very shaky. Nobody knew what had happened or how we could stop it from happening again, and rumors were circulating that other cities had been attacked.

Once I was reasonably awake, Celestia sent her student to brief me. The younger mare was nervously pacing back and forth while looking over her notes when Kukri showed her into my quarters. Celestia had given me an entire suite of the palace for my retinue, and judging by some of the decorations, it had belonged to Cadenza before she’d died. Part of me wanted to redecorate so it would suit its new occupants, but another felt that doing so might be disrespectful. I never liked Cadenza, but that didn’t mean I wanted to spit on her grave. Besides, I had much larger concerns at the moment.

I was waiting behind my desk when Twilight nervously shuffled in. “A-Archon Sunset Shimmer?” She bowed despite the fact that I wasn’t royalty, which made several sheets of paper fall out of her folder. She quickly scooped them back up, shooting me a nervously apologetic smile strained by her obvious social anxiety. “Sorry! Um, you wanted to see me? I mean, Princess Celestia sent me—to see you, that is. So, um, if you maybe want to hear my report I could ... you know ... give it.”

I tried to keep things professional so she would calm down a little. “Proceed.”

She cleared her throat, then opened up her folder. I noticed several notecards hastily stapled to the inside of the folder with an outline of her briefing. “So, I’ve been studying the reports of the temporal anomaly in Ponyville. Pursuant to that, I interviewed a pony by the name of Applejack. This ... is where things start to get weird, Archon Sunset. I know what some I'm about to say might sound unbelievable but...”

I threw a little quick reassurance her way. “I’ll withhold judgement until you finish your report and present your evidence.”

She took a deep breath, her shoulders hunching up as if she was already bracing for a reprimand. “Right. Um, so, Applejack claimed to have been contacted by a pony who—now please work with me here—looked exactly like me. Only as an alicorn.” She let out a strained, nervous laugh. “I swear I’m not making this up.”

Kukri shot a skeptical look her way, easily sliding into the role of my verbal attack dog. She would ask Twilight the hard questions, while I stayed above the fray as a reasonable and objective leader. “You were right. This one finds that quite difficult to believe.”

Twilight groaned. “I know, I know it sounds insane. But that’s what she told me. What’s more, this pony who claimed to be an alicorn version of me showed Applejack what looked to be a crystal table with some sort of illusionary map of Equestria. This pony said that everything was wrong and that she was going to fix it.”

“Anything else?” I asked, keeping my tone gentle and probing.

Twilight took a deep breath. “Yes, she said a pony by the name of Starlight Glimmer was responsible for changing the past and that she had to stop her. She then disappeared along with what I’m guessing was a baby dragon familiar into some sort of portal.”

Kukri sniffed skeptically. “This one finds that deeply implausible. Do we have any evidence of this beyond a single pony’s words?”

Twilight’s ears wilted at the criticism, and I decided to bolster her up a bit. “I’m sure she’s just accurately relaying Applejack’s words.”

That at least kept Twilight from crumbling on the spot, and after a second to consult her notes she continued. “This is what she told me. To be honest, I didn’t exactly believe her either. When she claimed that I was the alicorn she encountered, I thought she was probably trying to play a prank on me, or just making things up on the spot. However, when I examined the location where she claimed she saw the massive crystal map, I found some very solid evidence of some sort of temporal event.”

She started going into the details of exactly what she’d found. It was all very interesting, but I cut her off to avoid spending hours checking her raw data. “Your preliminary findings?” I prompted.

She rifled through her papers, evidently wrong-footed by my jumping ahead. “I’m detecting some kind of ... chronometric bleedover due to temporal instability. Near as I could tell, the anomaly is consistent with some sort of major temporal event, and that anomaly is now causing increased instability within the broader fabric of spacetime.”

“So you think that was responsible for what happened in Canterlot?” I asked.

Kukri grimaced and whispered to me. “While you were resting, we received reports of similar incidents in Fillydelphia, Las Pegasus, and Baltimare.”

Damn. Some part of me had hoped what happened in Canterlot was an isolated incident. Now it looked like it was just the first in a string of disasters. If four major cities had been hit, there were probably also a lot of problems in rural areas or empty wilderness. Who knew how many problems had gone completely unreported?

Twilight took a deep breath. “I’ve only seen some preliminary reports as far as what happened here, but what I’ve read of the investigation team’s data seems to match up with what I found in Ponyville. I can’t say for sure that they’re the same thing, but it looks close enough that maybe we should investigate further.”

I agreed with our conclusion. “For the moment, it’s one of the only leads we have. Even if it’s just a side effect or similar unrelated phenomenon, it might give us useful data. Did you find any evidence to confirm Sombra's involvement?”

Twilight frowned and shook her head. “No. Sombra's magic has a very distinct signature to it, and this doesn’t have it. I think Sombra would probably have insisted on being personally involved in any attack on Canterlot. He’s shown a consistent psychological tendency towards megalomania. There’s also the fact that he didn’t immediately claim credit for the attack, and his forces haven’t tried to launch a new offensive.”

Kukri frowned and shook her head. “He’s also never used time-altering magic before. It is possible that he’s changing tactics in the wake of his defeat.”

I grimaced and added. “Not to mention that these temporal instabilities seem to be getting worse. Maybe he’s holding his army back because he doesn’t want them to get caught up in what he’s doing to us.” Sombra wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice a few of his pawns, but he still liked to have something to show for his efforts.

“Sombra is still the most likely suspect,” Kukri agreed, turning back to face Twilight. “If it isn’t him, then what is the source of this anomaly? Surely you don’t believe the Apple-pony’s story? It sounds like something she cobbled together simply to put you off guard.”

Twilight frowned uncertainly. “She sounded sincere when I spoke to her. When she first saw me she was pretty confused—she thought I was the one pulling her leg with some kind of trick. It took me a while just to convince her to tell me her story, since at first she told me I should already know it since I was there.”

“Hmm.” Kukri turned back to me. “It’s possible the Apple-pony simply encountered oddities due to her proximity to the anomaly, or else is suffering from some mental illness. This one supposes we could do a psychological assessment...”

I shook my head. “Right now it doesn’t matter if she’s a good liar, delusional, or crazy. Our first priority needs to be containing the anomaly.” I thought it over for a second, then added, “I’ll have Strumming follow up with her.” The spy would probably be a lot better at spotting lies than a sheltered student, and Strumming’s unique personality would probably throw Applejack off-balance and show any weak spots in her story.

I put my full attention on Twilight. “What do you think we should do?”

She blinked in shock, taking an instinctive half-step back. “M-me?”

“The Archon asked you a question,” Kukri answered, a bit more firmly that was strictly needed.

Twilight’s shoulders hunched again, and she looked like she desperately wanted to disappear into the floor. “Um, I would recommend we immediately build a containment circle at the breach site. I would say we need to get at least a temporary one in place as soon as possible, and then upgrade to a long-term solution once the immediate crisis has passed. We might want to start the process for the building of a full adamantine circle. I—I could draw up a design for what we probably need.”

I nodded. “Alright. Do it.”

“Wh-what?” She stumbled over her own words in shock. “I can’t—I’m just...” She trailed off uncertainly and after several seconds swallowed and managed to be a bit more coherent. “Are you sure you want me to, um, there are probably more qualified ... my preliminary design ideas are probably way too expensive...”

I cut her off before she could keep coming up with more excuses. “If we don’t do something to contain these time storms, they’ll just keep getting worse, right?” Twilight nodded. “And they could potentially get so bad that Equestria or even the entire planet would be devastated, right?” She nodded again. “Then I think how much our solution costs isn’t the main thing we need to worry about.”

“Oh ... right.” Twilight swallowed nervously. “But shouldn’t you have, um, somepony more ... experienced check it out first? I might be wrong. I mean, Mom—Archmagus Velvet said she would send someone to investigate Ponyville, and my design’s—”

I waved her concerns away. “Right now, you know more than anyone else about the anomaly in Ponyville. Even if your design isn't perfect, it gives us a starting point.”

Kukri nodded. “This one will check over your design once it’s submitted, along with whichever magi the White Pony assigns. We will thoroughly check everything before we pass it on to the Archon and White Pony, who will doubtless do further checks themselves. How soon can we expect something from you, Sparkle-mare?”

“Um...” She looked down at her hooves, awkwardly scuffing the floor. “I sort of made a design on the train on the way to Canterlot. I haven’t triple-checked my work yet, but I think it could maybe help a little.” She hesitantly pulled out a scroll.

Kukri took it without a moment’s hesitation. “This one will look it over, then. By your leave, Shimmer-mare?” I nodded, and she stepped out.

That left me alone in the room with Twilight Sparkle. The younger mare’s shoulders immediately tensed up, as if she were expecting a long lecture about how many things she’d done horribly wrong. I mentally sighed—it was going to take a lot of work to make a proper magus out of this nervous wreck. Might as well get started on it. “Has Celestia informed you of your new assignment?”

Twilight swallowed nervously and slowly nodded. “She s-said that I’m working for you now.”

“That’s correct.” I didn’t say anything else, waiting for her to make the first move. If she was going to be part of my retinue from now on, it only made sense to get a feel for her. There had to be more to her than just a smart unicorn with abysmal social skills and zero self-confidence.

Twilight shrunk down on herself, her voice soft. “So she finally decided to get rid of me.” She continued on, talking far more to herself than me. “I was just waiting for it to happen. Ever since ... I failed her, things have never been the same. I tried working harder, tried to find a way to please her, make her happy with me again but...” She sniffled and wiped tears out of her eyes. “It wasn’t the same. After the war started, I asked if she would like to spend some time to drink some tea and eat a slice of cake, like the old days. Just to take our minds off ... everything. She said no, she was too busy. I tried a couple more times over the years, and...” She shrank back towards the door. “I’m surprised she didn't send me away sooner, honestly. It’s not like I deserve to be here, and I wouldn’t blame her for hating me after everything I did.”

Well, that was about what I’d expected to see out of her after what I’d heard from Celestia. Of course Twilight would put all the blame on herself. “Celestia’s been having a rough time, Twilight. She doesn’t hate you.”

Despite all the cynicism I’d gained from my years at Freeport, I didn’t think Celestia was really capable of hating anyone. She didn’t even hate Sombra. She was mad at him, and determined to stop him, but hate just ... wasn’t how she was. She certainly wouldn’t hate one of her own students.

“Of course she does,” Twilight mumbled dejectedly. “None of...” One of her hooves waved about in a vague seeking motion. “None of this would have happened if not for me. I mean, Sombra would’ve come back regardless, but Equestria would have been better prepared if I hadn’t failed when Princess Celestia needed me. She and Luna beat Sombra together the first time. If Her Highness hadn't been forced to kill her sister because of me...”

Right, time to be a bit less diplomatic. “It wasn’t because of you. She was forced to kill Nightmare Moon because she was a madmare who wanted to destroy the world.”

“No, it was because I couldn’t figure out how to stop her!” Twilight shouted, choking up. “She’s dead because of me. Because I couldn’t ... everything went wrong because I failed her.” She closed her eyes as tears slowly leaked out of them. “Now Luna’s dead, my brother is dead, Cadey’s dead, and everypony in Equestria knows somepony they’ve lost.” Her eyes shot back up to me, a tiny coal of resentment burning behind her eyes. “I heard a lot about you, you know. After I failed, and you became Archon. Ponies talking about how much better you are than me when they think I can’t hear—or sometimes when they know I can. How I might’ve been a disappointment, but at least Celestia has one student she can be proud of.”

Alright, screw diplomacy. I was never great at sweet-talking anyway. “Has anypony ever told you that you’re really full of yourself?”

Whatever she’d been expecting, that wasn’t it. “Wh-what?”

I snorted and shook my head. “You really think that Nightmare Moon and Sombra coming back is entirely your fault? That you could save Equestria all by yourself, and we’re all doomed because you didn’t do it? Doesn’t Nightmare Moon have some responsibility for her own actions? Not to mention that whatever happened with Nightmare Moon happened when you were still just a student. When a student screws up, it isn’t always their fault. Sometimes, you have to blame the teacher.”

I think I’d shocked and offended her far less when I called her arrogant. “But-but-but—she’s the princess! She never makes a mistake!”

I snorted and shook my head. “Horseapples she doesn’t. Don’t get me wrong, Celestia’s a wonderful, brilliant, and wise mare, and I’ll probably never be half of what she is, but she makes mistakes. She threw you into a situation you weren’t ready for. That sounds like a mistake to me. Why do you think I moved thousands of miles away from her once I was done being her student?” To say nothing of the circumstances regarding my departure.

Twilight’s ears drooped. “I ... don't know. Her Highness never talked about it. I didn’t even really know about you until later on. I asked why you were in Freeport, but she always deflected. Said she would talk about it some other time, or brought up some new project for me.”

“Well, let’s talk about it now.” It was a bit surprising how long ago it had all been. A part of me still couldn’t believe my fight with her had been half a lifetime ago. When did I get so old? “Celestia and I both made mistakes, and we got into a fight. We settled things after, but decided it was best for both of us if I stopped being her student. I wound up taking a ship out of Equestria and landed in Freeport.” I didn’t need to give her all the messy details. Most of that was best left in the past, and there was no point in reopening old wounds.

“Oh.” She shuffled uncertainly. “I always assumed it was all part of some grand plan she had for you. That she sent you to Freeport so you would one day become Archon and make it an ally of Equestria.”

“Nope.” Though now that she brought it up, some small paranoid part of my mind couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Celestia had somehow set all that up. I hoped not—it would make everything I’d accomplished pretty meaningless. “The thing to remember from that story is that while Celestia’s the best teacher in the world, she’s still not a perfect teacher. She gets too close to her students, and likes to let us figure things out on our own. I wouldn’t say those are problems, but ... sometimes it’s not what we need.”

“Oh.” She threw a curious look my way. “So ... um ... did you...” She hesitated, her cheeks lighting up as she nervously whispered. “D-did you have a crush on her too?”

I blinked. Twilight had a crush on Celestia? Ew. “No. No I did not.”

“Oh.” Twilight’s eyes fell off to the side, shuffling awkwardly.

I decided to move on from that deeply uncomfortable and rather disgusting revelation. “Let’s be clear: I’m not Celestia. I’m not letting you sit in the library or drift around aimlessly. We’re at war, and I need you to do your part. For now, you will assist Magus Doo in going over your proposal until both of you are confident it will work.”

Twilight bit her lip, hesitating. “I-if you're sure...”

“I am.” I decided to ease up a bit on the hardass routine for a few seconds, getting up from behind the desk and going over to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I know you’re an intelligent young mare who’s capable of accomplishing a lot when she sets her mind to it.”

A tentative smile worked its way onto her face as she regained a tiny bit of confidence.

...okay, that was enough kind nurturing. “So I expect results from you. In four hours.”

Twilight’s smile faded into a grimace. “I ... I think I understand.”

“Good.” I went back to my desk and took a seat. “Any questions?”

She took a deep breath. “Um, did you want all my work in double or triplicate?”

I shook my head. “Just one backup copy. We’re on a tight timeline.”

She nodded slowly. “Right, I think I can do that.”

I frowned at her. “Don’t tell me you think you can do it. Do it.”

Twilight blinked in surprise, her eyes flicking back to the door. “Um, is that your way of saying I should get to work?” I didn’t say anything, since the answer to that question was obvious. “Right, I better get going then.” She rushed out the door.

Once she was safely away, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Hopefully that had been the right move. It was hard not to feel like almost a bit of a bully when I was being so forceful with her, but it was what she needed. At the very least, trying something very different from Celestia’s way of doing things should shake her up a bit and get her out of the rut she was in. With any luck, she’d rise to the occasion and start showing off the potential that had gotten Celestia’s attention in the first place.

Hopefully sooner rather than later. There was a war to win.

We assembled in Ponyville two days later. I would’ve liked a bit more time to check over all the plans, but we’d already double-checked everything and the temporal anomalies were getting worse. Ponies were at least prepared for them now, and we’d gotten everyone to the emergency shelters pretty smoothly. However, one of the bunkers was bound to fail eventually. They just weren’t made to stand up to massive, highly destructive temporal anomalies.

Celestia and I had brought every magus we could spare to help with the ritual. It left us weaker on the front lines than we would’ve liked, but if we didn’t do something to close the rift the war would be a moot issue. All the models and data agreed that if we left this thing unchecked the devastation and loss of life would be incalculable. It was so bad that Celestia had even floated the idea of sending messengers to Sombra requesting a truce so we could work together to stabilize the anomaly. We’d dropped the idea in the end. Even leaving aside that he was probably behind the rift and would try to turn any effort to contain it to his advantage, there just wasn’t time to make any such arrangements.

I met up with Celestia while she was in the middle of looking over several crates full of ritual materials. Runestones, sealing circles, foci, and a dozen other things that could’ve potentially been damaged in transit. Fortunately, everything seemed to be alright. She shot a tired smile my way when she saw me. “I hope everything is going well.”

I returned her smile, probably looking about as worn out as she did. The last couple days had been hard on all of us. “It looks like we’ve got everything in order. The only thing left to worry about is making the actual plan come together. All of it looked good on paper, and Kukri checked it over half a dozen times with Twilight. It’s really impressive work.”

Kukri, who was busily doing her part going over all the ritual preparations, grinned and puffed her chest up a bit when she overheard me praising her. By contrast, Twilight buried her nose deeper into a folder full of plans, trying to avoid notice.

Celestia smiled and nodded. “I don't doubt it. You'll have every reason to be proud of her when this works. I’m sure Twilight was quite helpful in assisting her.”

Twilight’s ears wilted and she buried her nose deeper into the book. I scowled and immediately tossed up a privacy spell around myself and Celestia. As soon as I was sure nobody would overhear us, I let her have it. “Twilight Sparkle has spent years trying to win your approval. You could at least not publicly snub her and downplay her accomplishments in front of half the magi in Equestria and Freeport.”

Celestia blinked and took half a step back. “I—that was not my intention.”

“But it’s what you did,” I countered.

She opened her mouth to defend herself, but nothing came out. After several seconds of awkward silence, she sighed and lowered her head. “You’re right. I have not been the best teacher to her. After what happened to Luna ... it has been hard. Especially since Twilight was involved in that regrettable incident. Perhaps ... perhaps I have been less than an ideal teacher to her. I will make amends with her once this is settled, and try to do better in the future.”

“Good.” I dropped the privacy spell, revealing a lot ponies who were trying way too hard to look like they hadn’t been paying attention to us. I pointedly clearer my throat. “So, shall we get started on stabilizing the rift?”

A chorus of nods met my declaration. “The sooner, the better,” Kukri added.

“Agreed,” Celestia declared with a firm nod. “I will rest much easier once I know that at least this threat to the safety of my subjects has been dealt with.” She turned to Twilight and smiled. “Thank you very much for bringing this to our attention, Twilight.”

The relieved smile on Twilight face made the difficult conversation with Celestia worth it. As Celestia stepped past her, Twilight shot a quick nod my way as well. Even with the privacy spell hiding our conversation, it didn’t take a genius to guess that my talk with Celestia had played a role in her sudden about-face.

As we approached the site of the anomaly itself, I felt a frown growing on my face. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected it to look like, but I’d certainly expected ... something. Twilight had roped the area off with dozens of warning signs, but that was the only real indication of the danger aside from a few patches of dusty grassless earth. “Huh. I expected ... more.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Kukri muttered. “A huge glowing portal in the sky would be easy to find and deal with. Often the greatest threat of all is the one we cannot see.”

Twilight nodded. “When Applejack first led me here, I didn’t think there was anything worth finding. Then she tossed an apple through it, and the apple rotted away and regrew a dozen times before it hit the ground.”

I grunted and started using magic to see what my eyes couldn’t. Those results made up for all the dramatic revelations I’d missed before. “This is ... big. It’s gotten worse since the last time you checked it.”

“It’s been steadily expanding since I first observed it,” Twilight confirmed. “If we don’t contain it now, it might never stop growing. It’s kind of amazing in its own way. I kind of wish I had more time to study it, but...” She shrugged.

“This one knows exactly how you feel,” Kukri agreed. “This is Magic with a big ‘M’. It finally understands what the Shimmer-mare means when she says magic isn’t just spells, but one of the fundamental forces of creation.”

I nodded slowly. “We could learn more about the nature of time in one year of studying this thing than we have in centuries. Shame it’s way too dangerous to leave unsealed. Maybe we can still get some useful information out of it after we contain it.”

“Perhaps, but that is a concern for another day.” Celestia stepped forward, putting the first of many runestones in position. “Come on now, we have much to do, and I don’t want to talk about the scientific possibilities of studying this phenomenon while ponies are dying.”

I grunted my agreement and set up the second stone. The rest of the magi joined in on the effort, and before long Celestia and I had stepped back from actually working to supervise everyone else. This was an extremely delicate ritual, and misplacing a single runestone or putting the circle out of alignment could mess everything up.

The preparations were almost painful. Part of me wanted to rush through everything as fast as possible to get it taken care of before another incident happened, but I also knew that we had to get everything exactly right. It was like a constant tug-of-war between impatience and caution, and neither one would ever be satisfied.

Finally, after what seemed like both far too much time and far too little, everything was ready. Kukri and I did one last check, and then one more just to be safe despite one corner of my brain screaming to get on with it. Kukri took a deep breath, then slowly nodded. “This one thinks we’re ready, Shimmer-mare.”

Twilight had finished her own circuit of the ritual site as well. “Everything seems alright. At least, I didn’t see anything wrong.”

Celestia cleared her throat and stepped into the lead position of the ritual circle. “Is everyone ready?” A chorus of assent answered her question. “Then let us begin.”

I started channeling energy into the massive spell matrix we’d meticulously constructed. A moment later I felt Celestia’s strength flowing in next to mine. Her magic felt like the sun itself, warm and gentle at first, but with an almost terrifying amount of raw power.

Kukri joined me moments later. Compared the torrent of power Celestia had, hers was barely a trickle. My apprentice had tons of skill and practice, but raw power had never been her forte. She probably never would’ve become a magus under normal circumstances in all reality, but what she lacked in raw power and talent, she’d more than made up for with lots of hard work, sheer determination, and a unique perspective on magic. Not to mention that she had quite a few mundane skills to supplement her magic thanks to her family background.

The last of the ponies I recognized was Twilight, whose magic was the total opposite of Kukri’s: more raw untapped potential than I’d ever seen out of a unicorn before, and I was including myself. If she ever fully realized it she’d be a powerhouse. Easily an archmagus, and probably a lot more than that if all of Celestia’s plans had worked out. It would be interesting to see how she turned out after a few more years of training and experience to refine her potential.

The barriers started going up over the anomaly. The spell matrix fell into place. We stemmed the outwards flow of twisting space and began closing the rift. The breach in reality began to shrink as the edges were slowly weaved back, like filling up a sinkhole. I expanded my reach, reinforcing, correcting, and connecting spell matrices with shimmering beams of power. Everything was going according to plan.

Then it started going wrong.

A massive surge of energy crashed over us like an inbound tide, and all the barriers we’d carefully constructed started crumbling like sand. I rebuilt them as fast as possible, but it was like trying to drain the ocean with a teaspoon. By the time I could secure one anchor point half a dozen others had collapsed. “What’s going on?! It wasn’t supposed to react this way!”

Kukri groaned, sweat pouring down her face. “This one doesn’t know!”

“It’s another temporal surge!” Twilight shouted. “Like what happened in Canterlot!”

Oh no. This time, we didn’t have a bunker to fall back to, and we were at ground zero for the whole thing. Not to mention that this time storm looked like it was going to be much worse. Twilight had warned us they were getting bigger and bigger.

Kukri hissed in pain and started muttering a string of very inventive profanities under her breath. “Lock it down, lock it down, lock it down!”

Celestia clenched her teeth and narrowed her eyes, and I felt more of her power go surging into the spell matrix. “Brace yourselves everyone! We have to hold it!”

I growled and followed her example, throwing everything I could spare into propping up the barriers. A dull throb of pain started working down my horn into my forehead as I tried to do far too many things with far too much magic in far too little time.

Not everyone could manage the effort. One of the magi—I couldn’t even tell if it was one of mine or one of Celestia’s—suddenly dropped out of the circle. A second later he started screaming as he aged and deteriorated in front of our eyes, becoming a shriveled desiccated corpse in mere seconds.

Twilight groaned and tried to take up the slack left behind by the dead magus. “It’s breaking down! This wasn’t supposed to be done during a wild magic surge! We have to fall back to safety and try again later!”

“Where the feather’s safety?!” Kukri snapped back, ichor trickling out of her nose as she struggled to hold up her end of the spell.

She was right. Celestia and I could teleport away, and probably Twilight too, if Celestia had taught her that spell. But Kukri had never managed it, and the rest of the magi here would be completely doomed if we left the circle. Not to mention the risks of trying any form of dimensional travel right next to a huge distortion in spacetime. If I tried teleporting away, I’d probably end up with half my body being one year old and other half being a thousand.

Our only hope was to hold out and contain the storm. It couldn’t last forever.

More and more magi dropped out of the circle, their power exhausted by the effort. The more we lost, the heavier the burden was for those who remained. Eventually, not even our strongest magi could hold the line.

The light from Twilight Velvet’s horn started to flicker. “I ... I can’t...” Her face began to ripple and change, the crow’s feet around her eyes, smile lines, and a dozen other subtle signs of the many years she’d lived fading away. Within moments she looked the same age as her daughter, and I knew it wouldn’t stop there.

Just when I’d thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse, Twilight Sparkle saw what was happening. “MOM!”

Twilight’s concentration slipped completely, her focus lost at the sight of her mother in mortal peril. Velvet’s eyes widened. “Twilight, don’t—”

A blast of energy shot out as the circle broke completely, shattering at the weak point created by Twilight Sparkle’s distraction. A spear of raw energy transfixed her, and in a blinding flash of light the promising young mare became nothing more than a pile of dust.

Twilight Velvet’s eyes widened in horror at her daughter’s fate. The dust slowly blew away, and she took deep breath. She closed her eyes, then stopped casting entirely. She joined her child a heartbeat later.

The last remnants of the spell matrix collapsed entirely. Celestia managed to grab the few remaining shards of power and wrap them around us, keeping me and Kukri safe along with her. The rest of the magi died in an instant, and I knew we wouldn’t be far behind. Even with me and Kukri supporting her, the ad-hoc barrier she’d tossed up around us would only hold out for a few minutes at best. From what I could see outside of it, that wouldn’t be enough. All she’d done was buy us enough time to prepare for death.

I couldn’t believe it. How could it all have gone so horribly wrong so fast? So many lives snuffed out in an instant. Magi I’d known for years gone in an instant, not to mention what would be happening in the world outside our tiny little bubble of safety. The temporal anomalies that had hit Canterlot would be just a taste of the horrors everyone would face now. I desperately turned to my old teacher. “I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t ... how ... how are we going to get out of this one?”

Celestia took a deep breath, then solemnly declared. “We won’t.” Her eyes flicked to Kukri. After a few seconds the changeling’s eyes widened, and she slowly nodded. Celestia turned back to me, smiling gently. “But you will.”

I realized a moment too late what they were planning to do. “No! Don’t—”

“This one loves you,” Kukri murmured. The barrier shrank down to only cover me. I had just enough time to watch them die before it solidified completely.

Author's Note

As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.

Click here if you want to join the list of awesome people who support my writing.

The Day Where Nothing Changed

I was there the day we learned nothing had really changed.

It was a lovely morning. Or at least, what passed for morning now. The sun and moon didn’t move around the way they were supposed to. I should probably fix that someday. I mean, it was technically my job now. Not that it mattered. If the sun and moon both wanted to hang motionless in the sky while I went about doing my business, who cared? I didn’t care, and nobody else did either. They were too busy being dead.

Manehattan looked nice. The sun and moonlight both reflected off the frozen waves of the time-locked Dead Sea and glinted off buildings that had weathered the time storms a lot better than their occupants. Equestrians built things to last.

There was something eerily beautiful about seeing the entire ocean frozen in a single perfect moment of time. I’d actually walked to Freeport to check on it. Walking across an entire ocean had been weird, and I’d probably gotten lost a couple times. It had all been a waste; Freeport was just as wrecked as the rest of the world.

Oh well. At least I still had my health.

I sang a cheery little song as I gathered up the corpses. “The last mare left alive ... yes I’m the last mare left alive. Everyone else is dead, so I’m the last mare left alive...”

I nudged one of the many desiccated cadavers. “I wonder if there are any stallions? Gah, Celestia’s nudging about grandfoals just got a new sense of urgency.” I turned one of them over and gave it a quick inspections. “Can’t really tell the difference. For all I know, these could be zebras.” I frowned and shook my head. “Stupid. Why would there be zebras in Manehattan? Oh, because it’s a major city and trade port. Probably a bit of everything here. Not as much as Freeport, but ... I should go back there and sort all the bodies by species. Gotta be organized.”

I cleared my throat and tried to look a bit more dignified, running a chipped hoof through my tangled mess of a mane. “Now that I’m the princess of Equestria, I have to consider how best to repopulate the entire realm. There’s a lot of work to be done if I want to rebuild an entire civilization. Mom would have wanted that.”

I snorted contemptuously and shook my head. How could somepony so smart be so dumb? “She wouldn’t want you doing necromancy, stupid!

I let out a weak snort of laughter. “And here I am looking for stallions. There’s a deadwood joke in this somewhere ... oh Celestia, I actually made that joke.” I thought it over for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess I had to beat Kukri to it. You hear that Kukri? I beat you to that one.”

I lined up the dead bodies so I could be methodical about this. “She wouldn’t want you to die alone either, would she?! She must have saved you for some purpose. She wouldn’t have wanted you to live in this hell all alone with no hope. There had to be a purpose, there was always a purpose to everything she did. Besides, it’s not necromancy. It’s trying to restore rotting decayed corpses to some semblance of life. Totally different. You really are so stupid sometimes. Don’t you know anything?”

I took a seat and grandly gestured, encompassing the entire city. “Besides, I’m princess now. I’ll just change the law! No wait, even better, I’ll pardon myself and then I’ll change the law. I, Princess Sunset Shimmer, do hereby formally pardon I, Princess Sunset Shimmer, for all crimes against Equestria, Freeport, and the world.”

I frowned and shook my head. “‘I pardon I’? Talk about repetitive, not to mention spectacularly bungling your pronouns. This is why you need to hire a speechwriter for this kind of thing. Good thing this is just the rough draft. Imagine if you flubbed it that bad in front of an audience.”

I chuckled and snorted. “What audience? That’s the best thing about all this: there’s nopony to tell me I’m wrong. How can anything you do be wrong when you're both the princess and the last pony on earth? I can do whatever I want!”

I groaned and buried my face in my hooves. “Focus, moron! You’re supposed to be fixing Equestria! Now that everyone's dead, part of fixing it is bringing them back to life. Don’t you remember what you're here for?!”

I scoffed and shook my head. “It's not like I could forget, stupid.”

I fell into the familiar spellcasting patterns, sending a slow, steady pulse of energy into the bodies. Magic took over the role normally held by a beating heart, breathing life into the lifeless flesh. It had taken me a long time to get the hang of it—or at least, I think it had. It was kinda hard to tell how long things took when the world was ruined and time still went a little crazy from … well, from time to time. The temporal storms seemed to be calming down. Maybe because there was nothing left to destroy, or ... who knows. I don’t. Do you?

Slowly, the bodies rose. For a moment, I dared to hope. “Oh sweet Celestia, did it work?!” I ran up to one of the zombies, waving a hoof in front of its face. “Hey, hey! Talk to me. Talk to me. Talk to me! I just want to have somepony to talk to that isn’t myself! You have no idea how stupid and annoying she can be sometimes.”

The zombies stood there, silent and unmoving.

“Of course it didn't work, stupid. They’re zombies.” I slammed a hoof into the side of my head. “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Why are you dumb?! I thought you were supposed to be smart, but you keep doing the same thing over and over while expecting a different result. Isn’t that supposed to be the definition of insanity?!”

I laughed bitterly. “Yeah, and talking to yourself all the time is a sign of good mental health.”

I looked back at the shambling corpses and sighed. “Gotta start somewhere. Sorry, I’m a little new to full-on resurrection.”

The zombies just stood there, silent and unmoving. Empty husks and lifeless shells. What was the point? I screamed and set them on fire. “No! You stupid, stupid zombies! Why are you so stupid! I’m not stupid, you’re the ones that are stupid! You’re so stupid you don’t even care that I set you on fire!”

The zombies slowly crumbled to the dusty ground as the flames consumed them. For the record, burning zombie is one of the worst smells in the world. “Behold the latest in my level-headed responses to failure.”

I doused the flames before they could spread or do too much damage. After all, I might want to try again at some point. I took a deep breath and smiled, a bit of cheer entering my voice. “Well, practice makes perfect! That's what Mom always told me whenever I messed up a spell. I think I told Kukri the same thing.”

I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “But dammit if it didn’t feel good to set something on fire. I’m good at that.” I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Yeah ... I needed that. Also, note to self: don’t ignite anything that looks like a Free Mind. Carapace should make it easy to tell. Kukri would never let me hear the end of it if I had to restore her from dust and smoke—it’d just be an endless litany of being a pain in the ash.”

I scoffed at the wishful thinking. “Stupid, Kukri’s dead. They’re all dead. She and Mom were at ground zero, there’s not enough left of them to even try to bring back.”

Enough talk, it was time to try again. “See, I can make this work. Even if I fail and only make zombies I can always set them on fire to make me feel better after the crushing, crushing failures I keep suffering.”

The next round of zombies were just as lifeless as the first. I sighed and shook my head. “Shouldn’t have gone after the anomaly like that. We put all our eggs in one basket, and we wound up cracking all our best eggheads. Now I can’t raise the best and brightest eggs to help me raise the rest.”

I scowled and waved her remarks away. “If I can restore somepony from death, I can figure out a way to restore somepony from nothing. Kukri, Mom... I can fix it. I promise I’ll fix it all. You just need to give me a bit longer.”

“All I need is one success, just one success.” I poked at the zombies a bit more, not getting a reaction out of any of them. “No! Dammit! Raise, then set the failures on fire. Raise, fire. Necromancy, pyromancy, it’s so simple a foal could grasp the concept. And you’ve done this a million times. But that’s the problem isn’t it? You’ve done it a million times, and now it’s all blurring together. Do you even remember what day it is? What year?”

I scoffed and shook my head. “Days, years ... do those even mean anything anymore? Days are just a social construct created by the passage of the sun and moon through the sky, and now that they don’t move any more ... it’s not applicable.”

I smiled and tried to focus on the positive. “Sure, I’ve failed a million times, but you know what they say: the million-and-first time’s the charm!” I tried the next couple ponies in my pile of corpses. There was something vaguely familiar about the two of them, though I couldn’t put my hoof on exactly what. Maybe I’d seen them back before ... before.

The two bodies jerked back to life, groaning. I was used to that—a lot of zombies made some noises when you first brought them back. Something about air leaving their lungs as the body reanimated. This time, however, it sounded a bit more like an actual groan.

“Oh ... wow.” I started looking the two over. “I think these two are a bit different. Maybe you finally did something right.”

The flesh over the unicorn’s eye sockets twitched and narrowed, following me as I started inspecting her. Her coat looked like it might have been white before most of it had rotted away, and the remnants of a purple mane rested atop her head. After a couple seconds, a very cracked and dust voice asked, “Wha-what?”

I could scarcely believe my own ears. I hadn’t heard another pony’s voice in ... I don’t even know how long it had been. “It can talk! Did you finally get it right?!”

The other zombie, a rainbow-maned pegasus with a prosthetic wing and dressed in what looked like the tattered remnants of a uniform, spoke up. “Uh, duh I can talk.” She groaned and rubbed at her empty eye sockets. “Hey, where’s my unit? Pinkie? Maud? Report in, sergeants!”

The unicorn groaned and rubbed around her horn. “I was ... what was I doing? There was ... something?”

The pegasus looked over at the unicorn, then yelped and jumped back and stepped between me and her counterpart. “ZOMBIE! Sombra’s must’ve sent necromancers or something! Get back miss, I gotcha!”

The undead unicorn looked over at her pegasus companion, then let out an ear-piercing shriek. “Zombie! Run! Somepony call the Guard!”

“I am the Guard, you dolt!”

“Wow...” I sat back and observed the two of them. “Clear evidence of cognitive process, they show an awareness of their own surroundings, and the pegasus even seems to remember part of its own identity. It’s not perfect, but you’ve made some real progress.”

The two undead were still a bit too wrapped up in their own situation to take any notice of me. The unicorn had scrambled halfway across the plaza and was about to take cover in an abandoned storefront when she caught a glimpse of herself in a broken window. What she saw made her scream even louder than she had when she spotted her counterpart. “Oh no! What happened to me?! I’m hideous! I’m a monster!” She started running around in circles, wailing at the top of her lungs. “I’m a monster! I’m a monster! Nooooooo!”

The one-winged pegasus scoffed and shook her head. “Uh, yeah. you’re a big ugly monster. ‘Cause you’re a zombie!” She dropped down into a combat stance, spreading her wings and getting ready to charge. Then she glanced back at her wings and saw that her metal one was pitted with rust, while the other was nothing but dessicated flesh on bare bones. “Huh. What the hay is up with this horseapples?!”

Things were starting to spiral out of control. “Stupid, you need to take charge of the situation. Don't you remember anything about how to be a leader?!” I frowned and tried to pull up some of those old distant memories. “But how do I ... um ...” I decided to try out the good old Royal Canterlot Voice. “MINIONS! ATTEND ME!”

That at least succeeded in getting their attention. The pegasus was the first to speak. “Are you talking to me?” Despite the lack of eyes, she somehow managed to shoot me a flat look. “Are you seriously talking to me with that stupid line?!”

The unicorn was much more direct, stomping up to me. “You did this to me, didn't you?! You’re the reason I’m so horrifying now! This is all your fault!”

I decided to focus on the easier issues first. “Technically, your body was damaged by the passage of time—I just reanimated it in its current state. It’s been ... um...” I tried counting out the days on my chipped, dirty hooves, but gave up pretty quickly. “It’s been a long time. Sorry, nobody’s moving the sun and moon anymore, so it’s hard to tell.”

The pegasus’ mouth opened and closed several times as she slowly sank down onto her haunches. “Huh?”

The unicorn’s head whipped back and forth as she took in the devastation and all the dead bodies. “I don’t ... Where are we? What happened? It looks like ... I don’t know.”

I took a deep breath. “Everyone's dead.”

The pegasus looked grimly at the pile of corpses. “Yeah, I guess Sombra must have hit us really hard. We’ll get to Canterlot and—”

“Everyone’s dead,” I repeated.

The unicorn frowned uncertainly. “Perhaps if we went to—”

“Everyone!” I told them one last time.

Both of them slumped to the ground, probably trying to wrap their heads around what I’d just told them. It had taken me a long time to accept it too. I’d walked all the way to Freeport to see if anyone had survived. I hadn’t checked every last little corner of the world, but if anything significant was still alive, I would’ve seen some sign of it.

The pegasus’s hollow eye sockets narrowed at me. “You’re not.”

The other one caught up pretty quickly. “And if you’re the only one still alive, then ... did ... did you turn us into some sort of undead monsters? Why?”

“What did you do?!” the pegasus snarled at me. She probably would’ve attacked if not for the fact that I still had some necromantic control over her. I’d kept the binding pretty loose, but even after going half-crazy from isolation I wasn’t going to neglect the basic spells to keep my own creations from turning on me.

I did my best to explain it all. “Sombra did some sort of spell or something that blew up the world. It got him too as far as I can tell, so at least there’s that. For the rest of it ... you’re not monsters. Maybe you would’ve been before, but now you’re more alive than ... well, everyone but me. Even Celestia’s dead. I should know, she died saving me.”

She shouldn’t have done that. It should’ve been the other way around. Or maybe we both should’ve saved Kukri. Or ... I don’t know. Anything else.

My explanation seemed to at least calm them down a bit. The unicorn winced and rubbed her head, staring at me. “You’re...” Her empty eyes squinted at me, as if trying to make something out. “I remember you. Archon Sunset Shimmer?”

I nodded. There were times when it could be hard to remember, but I hadn’t completely forgotten my own name.

“Who?” the pegasus asked.

“Don't you remember?” the unicorn shot back. “She was ... Archon of that island. The one that broke the siege. What was it called? Port of Freedom? Nonono, that’s not it.” She groaned and clutched her head. “Why is it so hard to think?”

I frowned and opened up my bags, checking through some of the books I’d taken from the high security section of Celestia’s personal library. “Reinforce the spell matrix in order to ... right, I didn’t cast it at full power because I was just checking to see if ... okay, I can work on this. Give me just a second.”

I closed my eyes and sent a lot more energy to both of them, trying to rebuild as much as I could. I wasn’t sure how much good I was doing, but I kept it up until I could barely stand. A tiny part of me was tempted to keep pushing it, until I was drawing on my own life force to power the spell. If that was the price to restore both of them to life ... would it really be all that bad?

I fell back onto my haunches as soon as I cut off the spell, gasping for breath and sweating from the effort. When I opened my eyes, I saw what my efforts had gained. They didn’t exactly look alive, but it was a lot better than what I’d seen before. They actually had eyes now, and their manes and coats looked a lot closer to what they’d been like when they were alive. There were still plenty of obvious patches of missing skin and some exposed bone, but there was enough of a semblance of life there to at least feel like I was actually talking to real ponies again.

I decided to open up with a simple question. “Do you know your name?”

“Yeah, of course!” The pegasus paused, frowning and screwing up her eyes in concentration. “I think. Yeah, I’m Colonel Rainbeam Dash of the ... the...” She rapped her head a couple times with a hoof. “C’mon brain, work...”

The unicorn delicately cleared her throat. “I am Rarity, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Archon. I believe I was a ... I ... made things. Clothes. For the soldiers.”

“Rainbow Dash!” the pegasus shouted at the top of her lungs. “That was my name! Colonel Rainbow Dash of the Wonderbolts!”

“Sunset Shimmer.” I offered them my hoof, which they hesitantly shook. “Nice to meet both of you, even if the circumstances are terrible.”

“Likewise.” Rarity daintily shook my hoof. “So...” Her eyes flicked across the ruined city, and the desolate wasteland beyond it. “Everypony?”

I nodded glumly. “Everypony. At least, as far as I can tell. Maybe there’s someone left hiding out in a cave or something, but as far as something resembling civilization...” I shrugged helplessly. “I haven’t seen anything.”

“Oh no...” She gasped softly and put a hoof over her mouth. “Sweetie Belle, my parents, Applejack, Coco ... everypony. All of them?”

Rainbow stared off into the distance, muttering names under her breath. “I’m ... I dunno how this works, but will I fall apart and crumble if I go to Cloudsdale? There’s some ... I gotta see for myself, okay?”

“I think you’ll be okay.” I didn’t have any real experience, but going off my books self-aware undead were usually close to self-sustaining when it came to magic. Rarity and Rainbow would need me to repair wear and tear or any actual damage, but they wouldn’t be anchored to me or in danger of instantly falling apart without a steady influx of magic.

Rainbow nodded gratefully, then sighed. “Okay, so ... what, then? What’re we doing here? Why’d you bring us back?”

“I’m ... trying to fix it.”

“Fix it?” Rarity repeated incredulously. “How? Everypony’s dead and the world’s been completely destroyed. How could you possibly fix that?”

Rainbow shook her head. “Yeah, there’s nothing left to fix.” Her eyes flicked across the ruins. “I ... I think I’d like to go back to being ... I dunno. How I was before you woke me up.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Rarity murmured. “I admit the circumstances are far from ideal, but we are alive, after a fashion. And if Sunset can bring us back, surely there’s a chance for others as well.”

“I guess that’s true.” Rainbow looked herself over and grimaces. “I mean, I’m uglier than the north end of a southbound yak, but I’m back. I’m not alive, but I’m at least close enough to be pissed about being undead. It’s ... I guess it’s better than nothing.”

I nodded along. “Exactly. Now I just have to do ... whatever I did with you a couple million more times. Plus get better at it.”

“Yeah.” Rainbow grimaced. “Um, think you could work on bringing everypony back as more than just…?” She waved a hoof over her own chest demonstratively.

“I’m working on it,” I grumbled. “You two are the first time I’ve managed to even get something capable of reasoning and speech.”

“Of course, we understand entirely,” Rarity assured me with a soothing smile. “Do you know what you did? You must have done something different, right?”

“I took notes.” I pulled out my notebook and looked it over. “Oh.”

Rarity grimaced. “That doesn’t sound like a good ‘oh.’”

I sighed and turned the book around, letting them all see what was written within.

Entry ?: Gah, I haven't thought about Mom in forever. Not Mom, Mom. And Dad, too. I'm sure they're around somewhere ... I think I did something with them after I killed Heritor Azurite? Did I make a shrine? Did I make plans for a shrine? Must double back to Canterlot some time to check.

Entry ?: I've heard that being alone for a long time affects a pony's mental state. So far I think I'm okay—I only argue with myself about the important stuff.

Entry ?: My shadow's still too damn fast. I know I can catch it if I turn my head fast enough, but so far all I've gotten is whiplash.

Entry ?: The sun and the moon really need to find a way to move on their own. I swear, they're like two creepy eyes watching me all the time, no matter where I go. The shadows whisper through the twisted corners, waiting silently for hours, watching every move and shiver with eyes that glitter. It’s weird.

Entry ?: Concerning the last entry, I think I need to sleep inside more. And get curtains. A little privacy goes a long way.

Entry ?: I miss Mom. And Kukri. I wish they'd stop screaming, though—it’s bad enough I have to hear it when I’m dreaming, I’d like a little silence now and again when I'm awake.

Both ponies looked up from the journal. “Ah.” Rarity tried to smile politely. “I do not wish to be prudish, but your penmareship could... use a bit of work.”

Rainbow was much less tactful. “Dang, you’re kookier than a vintage clock’”

“Yup.” I sighed and ran a hoof down my face. “Don’t worry. I did it once, I can do it again. How hard could it be?”

“I’m sure you’ll manage.” Rarity sniffed, then grimaced. “Although ... I hope you won’t take offense, Sunset, but perhaps we should look into finding some hygenic facilities?”

“Why?”

Rainbow groaned. “Because we’re both half-rotted zombies, and you’re still the stinkiest one here! How long has it been since you took a bath?”

I hesitated. “I ... um ... well it hasn’t really rained much ever since the oceans got temporally locked, so...”

“Well, that won’t do at all,” Rarity announced primly. “Come along now, I’m sure we can find the ruins of a spa somewhere.”

Relocating to Canterlot had been the logical move. It was a central location, and it had the largest and best preserved magical library in the world, thought I hadn’t been shy about supplementing Celestia’s collection. Books were among the most important things we’d tried to find whenever we left the city on a scouting expedition—right behind food, at least until Rarity had gotten her farms running. Even now that we had most of what we needed, Rainbow still liked to go on scouting trips. I think she just got a little stir-crazy, what with me constantly studying and experimenting while Rarity kept herself busy with dozens of little projects.

I groaned and rolled over in Celestia’s bed. Even after all these years of sleeping in the room, it still didn’t feel like mine. Probably because I’d tried to preserve as many of Celestia’s things as I could. It was like as long as I could hold onto that old writing desk of hers or her favorite comfortable chair, she wasn’t completely gone. Or at least, it gave me something to remember her by. Those memories felt more and more important as time went by. I certainly preferred remembering the good times to ... this.

Rarity trotted into the bedroom, humming a cheerful tune as she threw open the curtains to fill the room with the mixture of sunlight and moonlight I’d somehow gotten used to over the years. She sounded irritatingly cheerful. “Good morniiing! Up and at’em, Princess. I hope you slept well, and you’re ready for another lovely day!”

I groaned and buried my head deeper into the pillows, hoping she would leave me in peace. Ever since she’d found out I was technically royalty, she’d insisted on maintaining appearances. I probably shouldn’t have kept that adoption document so prominently displayed, but ... well, it was one of the best things I had to remember Celestia by. When it came to my royal status, I agreed with Rainbow—when I was the only living pony left in the world and one of only three sapient beings on the planet, it didn’t matter.

Rarity took a different perspective. It seemed silly to me, but Rainbow had been on the receiving end of a very long and furious rant the one time she made the mistake of pointing it out. After that, we both agreed to let Rarity have her coping mechanisms. If calling me a princess and keeping the palace looking clean was what she needed to keep it together, that was a small price to pay.

Still, I could’ve done without the cheerful morning rituals. I groaned and slowly started rolling out of bed, running a hoof through my mane. As happened far too often these days, my hoof came away with several grey and white hairs attached. “What’s so good about it?” I grumbled as I slowly shifted to the edge of the bed.

Rarity trotted over to help me, frowning and looking me over. “Is your arthritis bothering you again?” She pulled out a few pills and set them down next to a glass of water. “I’ve done a bit more reading, and hopefully these will help with that.”

“Thanks.” I grabbed the new pills and added them to the usual selection of vitamins and supplements. It still amazed me how many pills I could down alongside a glass of water, especially when some of them were so huge, but practice made perfect.

Rarity beamed. “There we go.” She levitated over one of my nicer robes and a manebrush. “Now then, let’s get you into your robe, freshened up, and ready to face the day. I have the staff working on breakfast, and I think you’ll quite like it. We’re going to be trying out a new recipe in that cookbook Rainbow found on her last trip out, so we should get something a bit new this morning.”

I started getting dressed with Rarity’s help, grunting and groaning as fresh little pains shot through my body whenever I moved the wrong way. You’d think I would’ve learned by now which things hurt and which didn’t. “Oh yeah? What'd you make?”

Rarity did her best to help me through the process—she had plenty of experience with it by now . She didn’t let any of the work dampen her mood. “We’ll be having omelets with cheese, peppers, onion, mushrooms, and slices of haybacon.”

That got my attention. “Where did you get eggs and cheese from?”

She beamed proudly. “It took some doing, and my first few experiments were complete disasters if I must be honest, but I think I’ve managed to arrange something that tastes about right.” She frowned thoughtfully. “Or at least, I hope so. It’s been so long since I’ve eaten eggs I’ve almost forgotten what they taste like.”

Oh. “Do I even want to know what they’re made of?”

Rarity delicately cleared her throat and didn’t answer, which probably answered it well enough. “I assure you, they’re completely safe to eat. I wouldn’t risk giving you anything that might distress your digestive system.” She frowned and rather pointedly added. “We do need to watch your health, after all. You’re not getting any younger, Your Highness.”

I grunted and slowly hauled myself completely off the bed. It was a little hard to say exactly how much time had gone by since the world went to Tartarus, but between that and the less-than-ideal living conditions, I wasn’t as spry as I’d been in the good old days. At least, I never remembered it hurting this much just to walk across the room. “I’m fine. Let’s eat.”

Rarity shadowed me all the way to the table, just in case. “There you go, nice and slow. Was there anything special you wanted? I’m afraid your blood pressure is still a bit too high for coffee, but we do have juice.”

I was tempted to say that if I was really a bucking princess, she could just get me some damn coffee no matter what my blood pressure was. However, if I did that I’d get my coffee served with a huge helping of passive-aggressive grumpiness and redoubled efforts to compensate for my health on every other front. It probably wasn’t worth it. Especially when I could try to get some when she wasn’t paying attention.

Rarity frowned when she saw me taking my time. “Do you need any help with your seat, Your Highness?” She pulled out the chair to make it a bit easier for me.

“I’m alright.” I fell into the seat, groaning happily as I took the pressure off my hooves.

She opened up the doors, and two members of her staff came in carrying covered trays. Seeing skeletons dressed up in the very best Canterlot finery would never stop looking weird, but ... coping mechanisms. Rarity beamed happily as her servitors set the trays down in front of us. “And there we go. Please do enjoy, Your Highness.”

I wasted no time doing exactly that. Credit where it was due, she actually had done a pretty good job with the meal. Much like Rarity, I had no idea how close the flavor was to the real thing, but it was at least close enough to remind me of better times. It also helped that the omelet was soft enough to be easy on my teeth. “It’s real good. Thanks, Rarity. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

She smiled proudly at the praise. “Thank you very much, Your Highness. I’m just happy that everything went according to plan. It’s always a bit of a risk to try something new, and I was terribly worried the chefs would make a mess of it. Training them for new dishes can always be a bit ... problematic.”

I wisely refrained from pointing out that altering command spells for a skeleton in a chef’s hat didn’t really qualify as ‘training.’ “It was delicious. I hope there’s enough left for more tomorrow morning.” I took a deep breath. “So ... what’s on the agenda for today?”

Rarity pulled out a clipboard. “After breakfast, it’s back to the lab as long as you’re feeling up to it. I believe you were working on that theory on soul reintegration and redivision? I have a lovely lunch planned once you’re ready for a break , with some nice fruit and daisy sandwiches. After that we need to work on maintenance for some of the spell matrices, and I wanted you to check over a few new subroutines I was thinking of adding. Once that’s taken care of, I was hoping we could play some cards for the afternoon.”

“Sounds good.” I finished off the last of my meal. “Did you need me to raise any ... arrange for any new members for your staff?”

“Hmm...” Rarity idly passed our dirty dishes to another one of her beautifully dressed undead servitors, who promptly started carrying them down to the kitchen. “Not precisely. However, I did want to pass along the idea of making another intelligence cortex so that we can expand our resource collection efforts. I’ve done all I can with what I’ve got, but I know you wanted quite a few rather exotic materials for that experiment you were planning next week. I know a new cortex might take a while, but if we can double our staff numbers it would make my job so much easier. I hope you don’t mind...”

I grunted and nodded. “Sure thing. I can roll those experiments back until we get the new cortex taken care of and your staff numbers built up.”

Rarity frowned uncertainly at me. “Are you sure? We've already delayed that line of experiments twice, and I could manage for a bit longer if you—”

“Keeping your infrastructure up and running is more important,” I assured her. Especially since those experiments would end the same way as the rest. Necromancers had been trying to crack the problem of bringing the dead back to life for as long as necromancy had existed, and most of them were working in much better conditions. I felt obligated to keep trying, but after all the years of failure...

I hadn’t even managed to replicate what I’d done with Rarity and Rainbow. For a long time I’d assumed there was some secret to the spell, and I could repeat it if I could just remember what I’d done while I was half-crazy from isolation. Lately, I’d started thinking that it was something else entirely—that there was something special about Rarity and Rainbow.

If that was the case, I had no idea what it was. I’d tried studying the spells animating them to see what made them different, but there was only so much I could tell from passive observation. I’d need to pick the spells apart to really see how they worked, and that would mean...

No. I couldn’t risk losing one of them.

The only option that left me was more experiments. Hoping that this time I’d somehow finally stumble my way into cracking a puzzle that I was increasingly convinced had no solution.

Rarity sighed. “I was also hoping we could fit in another few lessons after we finish up with cards. I’m still having a bit of trouble with aetheric transfer.”

“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do.” The training sessions with Rarity were usually an exercise in frustration, but we had to at least try. If she could figure out enough necromancy to manage without me, everything would run a lot more smoothly. The only problem was that in life she’d been profoundly average in terms of magical skill and education, and being undead had only added to her problems. Most of our lessons involved me spending hours trying to explain a concept I’d grasped intuitively. She had a firm grasp of the basics, but so far more advanced material had eluded her.

I took a deep breath and tried to stay focused on the positive. “At least a new intelligence matrix will let you keep things running on your own for years to come. Probably longer than I’ll...” I grimaced and cut myself off a bit too late.

Rarity sighed again and shifted her chair next to me. She took a deep breath, then slowly placed one of her hooves on top of mine. “Princess—Sunset, we really need to talk about this. I don’t think we can put it off anymore.

I knew what was coming, but it was one of those conversations I really didn’t want to have. “Talk about what?”

She worried at her lower lip for a moment before answering. “The fact that you’re running out of time. I know it’s not pleasant to think about, but as things stand right now you’re going to die, darling. I’ve studied a few medical texts to help as much as I can, but I’m nothing close to a doctor or even a nurse. However, I’d have to be blind not to notice the less-than-ideal state of your health.”

I snorted and shook my head. “I’m the one living with it. Trust me, I noticed a long time before you did.”

“Then it’s past time we faced the truth,” Rarity continued, undaunted by my uncooperative attitude. “In all likelihood, you will die at some point in the next few years, and perhaps much sooner than that. Have you made any plans or given any thought to what happens when you pass away? You’re the last living pony in the world. What’s more, you’re absolutely irreplaceable in every meaning of the word. What are we to do when you're gone?”

For one moment, I was tempted to tell her the truth—that I didn’t give a flying feather what happened after I died. Hay, maybe I was even looking forward to it. I’d spent Celestia only knows how long beating my head against a brick wall trying to unlock the secret to bringing back the dead. As long as I was alive I owed it to everyone to keep trying, but I was ... I didn’t hate the idea of finally being done with it. Besides, maybe I’d get to see Kukri and Celestia again. That didn’t sound so bad at all.

However, that almost certainly wasn’t what she wanted to hear. I tried to reassure her as much as I could. “I’ve left all my books for you. I’m sure you’ll manage.”

That was a pretty hollow comfort, and Rarity knew it. “Yes, for a while. Maybe with all I’ve learned I can keep the staff going, keep Rainbow and myself fixed up as long as we don’t suffer any major damage, and keep right on going, piddling away in the palace. But to what end? You humor me with your lessons, but I can tell that I’m a rank amateur compared to you. We both know that it’s completely unrealistic to think that I’ll be able to continue your work or accomplish anything meaningful by myself.”

She was right, but I didn’t want to tell her. I couldn’t lie to her either, though. At least, not a lie that was remotely plausible enough to be believed. All I could give her by way of answer was a grunt and frown.

Rarity sighed and shook her head. “We simply can’t restore Equestria without you, and there’s no sense in pretending otherwise. If you die with your work unfinished ... then I might as well throw myself off the mountain, because without you I don’t have a purpose. Helping you is all well and good, but I can’t just exist for existence’s sake. I need a mission, a goal, something to drive me. I can’t just sit around making sure the curtains match the drapes forever.”

A little bit of the frustration I’d tried to keep hidden from her spilled out. “Rarity. I’ve been at this for ... I don’t even know how long, but my mane was still its original color when I started. Does it look like I’ve gotten any closer to pulling it off in all the time you’ve known me?”

Rarity sighed and shook her head. “I know you’ve hit a bit of a snag, but we just need a breakthrough. I know it’s been a long and difficult road, but this hardly needs to be the end of it. I don’t understand all the details, but I’ve read enough in your books to know that you are choosing to die. Celestia named you as her heir, so don’t try to tell me she didn’t include everything you’d need to know to become an alicorn and immortal. Even without that ... Rainbow and I don’t age, and since you haven’t even died yet you have many more options for—”

“No.” How the hay could I pretend to be Celestia? Sure, she’d left me enough information that I could take over her mantle and become an alicorn, but what was the point? To keep the sun moving properly over a dead, empty world? Besides, what had I done to deserve it? All I’d done was survive because better ponies decided to kill themselves to save me. That wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement for why I deserved to be an alicorn, let alone Celestia’s successor.

As for the alternatives ... I wasn’t going to turn myself into a lich or something so I could spend the rest of time fruitlessly trying to crack open the secrets of the universe. Being stuck in a dead end for my entire normal life had been bad enough. Doing it for an immortal eternity ... death would be a mercy compared to that.

“Sunset...” Rarity squeezed my hoof, and I was pretty sure she would be crying if her body were capable of it. “We’ve lost everything else. Don’t make us lose you too.” She bit her lip. “Don’t ... do you realize how much we—how much I care about you? Do you have any idea how much it hurts to see this happening to you when I know you could stop it whenever you wanted?”

A distant flash of color and sonic boom gave me the perfect excuse to end the conversation. “Sounds like Rainbow’s coming back.” I hadn’t expected to see her for another week, but Rainbow’s scouting trips had never followed a fixed schedule. She left when she wanted to, and came back when she felt like it.

Rarity might have been glad to see our only other companion returning, but she wasn’t fooled. “Sunset, don’t think you can use that as an excuse to change the subject. I know I’m perhaps being a bit blunter than I should be considering your station, but I think we can set aside some of the usual rules of decorum when we are discussing a matter of life and death that involves the world’s last hope of survival.”

Rainbow landed on the balcony and urgently rapped on the door. I jumped on the opportunity. “Come on in, Rainbow. Rarity’s here with me.”

Rarity huffed indignantly and glowered at me, but she didn’t say anything else. Apparently she wasn’t quite ready to keep the fight going in front of Rainbow Dash. It was a temporary reprieve, but I’d take it. I could always hope I died in my sleep before she brought it up again.

Rainbow trotted in, giving us both a tired grin. “Hey. So how long have I been gone?”

“Two weeks.” She’d gotten in the habit of asking that, back from when time had still been unstable enough that she could be gone for a day from our perspective but eight months from hers. She’d returned barely holding together after all the wear and tear she’d suffered. After that, I’d forbidden any more solo expeditions until the time storms died out completely.

Rainbow nodded to herself. “Good, it matches up. I’ll compare our clocks later.” She took a deep breath. “If they’re in sync, that’d make it a dozen trips without time going screwy. Maybe it’s really over.”

Yay, no temporal anomalies. And it had all happened just in time for the last living pony on the planet to die.

Rarity delicately cleared her throat, getting up to give Rainbow a quick hug. “It’s certainly nice to have you back. I’m always so worried when you leave.”

Rainbow patted her back, grumbling under her breath. “Sheesh, it’s not like I’m gonna forget how to get back or anything.”

“Of course not.” Rarity shot a rather pointed look at me while adding, “It’s just the thought of what things would be like if we lost one of our number...”

I did my best to ignore the passive-aggressive needling, something I’d be getting lots of time to practice doing now that I’d crossed Rarity. My best hope for a bit of peace would be to get Rainbow talking about her favorite subject. “So, how was your trip?”

“I made it back in one piece.” She grimaced and shook her head. “Problem is, that’s where the good news ends. I decided to swing by the Crystal Empire and see if there were any good books left, and ... Sombra’s still alive.”

I could scarcely believe my ears. “What?”

Rarity was just as shocked. “Excuse me?”

Rainbow shrugged helplessly. “I dunno how or why. Maybe he was hiding out in some sort of super-secret hiding place until time stopped going crazy. Doesn’t really matter how he pulled it off—the big thing is that he was there, walking around messing with all his crystals. Probably planning something really feathered up and evil.”

I snarled and slammed a hoof down on the table, ignoring the jolt of pain it sent up my leg. “I should’ve known! Of course he had a plan to survive the apocalypse he unleashed! We probably could’ve found his hiding place if we’d checked the palace more carefully.”

Rarity settled back into her seat, completely forgetting she was supposed to be mad at me. “My heavens, whatever will we do? If he comes to Canterlot...” She shot a worried look my way.

I scowled and shook my head. “To hay with worrying about him coming to us, that bastard blew up the world. I’m not letting him get away with that. I say we go to him, and we make him pay for that.”

Rainbow nodded sharply. “Now you’re talkin’ my language. He’s way overdue for butt-kicking. So what’s the plan?”

Rarity gasped and grabbed one of my hooves. “Your Highness, you can’t possibly be thinking to go and fight him. You’re much too ... Sombra was strong enough to match Celestia, and you’re ... well...” Her ears wilted. “We can’t even take you out in a carriage to ride around town. The last time we tried, you were so sore and tired you couldn’t get out of bed for days.”

Much as I hated to admit it, she was right. “To hay with beating him a fight, just trying to get up to the Crystal Empire would probably kill me.”

“You're not that bad,” Rainbow insisted. “Hay, you still look better than I do, aaaaand … damn, did I just burn myself.” She awkwardly rubbed the back of her patchy mane.

Rarity shot a faint frown Rainbow’s way. “You do know I could do quite a bit to help with those aesthetic issues, don’t you? I’m sure I’ve offered more than once.”

Rainbow shrugged. “As long as I can fight and fly, I’m good. Maybe you care about having all your guts so you can pretend you’re still alive, but I’m faster without the extra weight.” She turned back to me. “So ... whaddaya wanna do? Unless Sombra’s gotten way weaker, he’s got enough going for him that I can’t just swoop in and beat him to death with his walker.” She frowned, then amended, “Or whatever it is he uses. Good news is, it looks like it’s just him right now. I didn’t see anything like me or Rarity around him before I high-tailed it back here. Odds are he’ll want some sort of minions, though.”

Rarity bit her lip again. “And he’ll almost certainly come to Canterlot at some point. What are we going to do? Leave the palace and hide? Sunset has needs, she can’t go roughing it like she did in the old days. That would...” She trailed off with a grimace.

“It would kill me,” I finished for her.

Rarity wrapped one of her forelegs around me. Despite her best efforts, she still hadn’t worked out how to mimic natural body heat, which made it obvious I was being held by a corpse instead of a real living pony. Still ... it was nice.

“That still doesn't answer the question,” Rainbow growled. “I don’t wanna run and hide from the big ugly jerk, I wanna kick his butt. How do we do that?”

“Rainbow!” Rarity snapped. “Have you heard a word I’ve said?! We can’t fight him.” Her eyes flicked back to me, a pondering frown on her lips. “Not as things stand.”

“So change it up,” Rainbow shot back. “We can change it, right?” She joined Rarity in staring at me. “Like, I get that you’re older than a holiday fruitcake, but you made me and Rarity. You’ve gotta have some tricks up your sleeve for yourself too.”

“I ... have options.” Options that would’ve been unthinkable ten minutes ago, but now ... Sombra being alive changed everything.

Rarity cleared her throat. “There are several things I’ve read about in the forbidden archives. I’m sure you know even more than I do. We would have to be very careful with what we chose, of course, but...”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Rainbow demanded.

“Most of the things we'd try would kill me if I got them wrong.” I scoffed and shook my head. “Not that it would make much difference.”

Rarity shivered. “There are quite a few things in those books where death seemed like the preferable alternative.”

Rainbow shrugged. “What, so she turns into some kinda monster? What’s she gonna do, kill everyone? Long as we get Sombra, I don’t even care what happens next.” She scoffed softly. “You wanna know why I go off flying so much? I think I was kinda hoping I’d find some sort of crazy monster or something that could do me in. I mean, what was the point of what we were doing? But now ... I don’t care if I die, as long as I take that shadowy crystal-loving bastard with me. Maybe this is why we survived in the first place. To make sure he goes down.”

Rarity took a deep breath, then nodded grimly. “After everything he’s done ... there’s too much blood on that monster’s hooves. He’s irredeemable. Even if the spell goes wrong and turns Sunset into akin to Nightmare Moon, it’s worth it so long as Sombra dies.” She took my hoof and squeezed it. “I think Rainbow’s right, darling. This is why we’re here—what we’ve been waiting all this time for. The chance to bring the one who murdered our world to justice.”

I took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. I felt like I’d woken up from the world’s longest nap. For the first time in years, I really felt alive. “You’re right. Sombra doesn’t get away with this. I don’t care what it takes, we bring him to justice. I’ll need a bit to look over my options and decide which one I’ll go with, but ... it’s like Rainbow said. I can’t beat him the way I am, so that has to change.”

I shifted my attention to Rarity, feeling the beginnings of a plan. “You had some of our undead on mining duty, right?”

She nodded. “That’s half of our servitors right there. Finding the right sort of gems for all your experiments was no small task, which was why I wanted the extra intelligence cortex to speed up the production rate.”

“We’re reassigning them,” I ordered. “Keep some of them on gem work, but our main goal now is iron. Lots of iron. We’ll need to get a foundry up and running too, and I’ll also want to work on some modifications for the current mining spell matrices.”

Rainbow grinned. “Lemme guess, you wanna teach the skellies how to ‘mine’ Sombra and whatever creepies he gets working for him?”

Rarity’s smile took on a distinctly predatory edge. “I’m sure we could come up with something like that. With that new cortex, we should be able to put about two thousand soldiers in the field. Once I have them assigned to their new duties, I’ll look into some proper armor designs. It’s been some time since I tried my hoof at that, but I’m feeling positively inspired.”

Rainbow turned to me. “I want in on that. Maybe not iron, but if the freaking servants are getting a bunch of badass combat upgrades, I’m getting them too.”

“We’ll set something up,” I agreed, turning back to Rarity. “Have the miners keep an eye out for anything better than iron. Steel’s just fine for the basic troops, but I want you two to have the best of the best. And myself, I guess.” I grinned at them. “So, it looks like we’ve finally got a new neighbor. I say we go pay him a visit, with a couple thousand heavily armed and armored friends at our backs.”

Rainbow grinned and snapped off a perfect military salute, while Rarity beamed at me. “Why Princess, I think that’s positively the best idea you’ve come up with in years!”

I took a deep breath and nodded. “I thought the war was over when the world broke, but it looks like I was wrong. Equestria and the Crystal Empire are still at war, and there’s one more battle left to fight. We might not have been able to stop Sombra from destroying Equestria and killing everyone we loved, but we’ll at least bring the sick bastard to justice. He’ll pay for every single innocent life he’s taken.”

I turned to face Rainbow. “You wanted to know what my plan is? My plan is to take every single weapon I have at my disposal and wage war against a monstrous tyrant, one whose foul acts have surpassed all the darkest crimes recorded of the world. And once we destroy his ability to resist, we break him.”

Author's Note

As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.

Click here if you want to join the list of awesome people who support my writing.

The Day We Rediscovered Hope

I was there the day we rediscovered hope.

Walking into a pool of molten metal was probably one of the most insane things I’ve ever done, and that’s including all the time I spent wandering the wastelands talking to myself. But when you were one of the only living beings left on a dead world, who could say what was and wasn’t crazy? I didn’t think it was crazy. Rarity and Rainbow didn’t think it was crazy. Ergo, it was a completely sane and reasonable thing to do.

If you really wanted to talk about insanity, what was crazy wasn’t going into the pool of molten metal. It was the fact that a couple hours later, I walked back out of it. Withered flesh and brittle bone had been swept aside, replaced with stronger materials. Now my bones were made of adamantine, and instead of failing organs my body moved with pure magic. Green fire flickered across my new form, my power all but overflowing its container.

It felt ... good.

All the aches and pains that I’d grown used to after too many years of life were gone, and their absence was one of the sweetest pleasures I’d felt in years. Climbing the steps out of the basin didn’t take any particular effort or leave me short of breath. I felt like a young mare again, fresh and full of energy. No, better than that; even when I’d been in my prime, I’d never been this strong. Not to mention I had the experience to appreciate it now. No wonder so many necromancers decided to do something like this to themselves.

And, of course, there were other advantages to my new form. A curious sensation shot along my back, and my new wings snapped open. Not the feathery wings of an alicorn as I’d once dreamed of, but they were wings nonetheless. “Interesting.”

Rarity cautiously approached me, warily looking over my new body. “Your Highness—Sunset, are you okay? You said you would come out of the ritual looking different, but I wasn’t expecting such a radical change...”

I flexed my new limbs, reveling in the strength I felt within them. Yesterday, I had struggled to move my own chair. Now, I could probably punch through a stone wall. “Yes, I’m fine. No, more than that. I’ve never felt better.”

Rainbow whistled softly. “That’s ... I don’t know if it’s amazing or if it scares the horseapples out of me. That still you in there?” She laughed, though it came out a bit forced and her eyes were nervously darting back and forth. “Please be you in there. ‘Cause if it’s not, I got no clue how to fix this. Quick, tell me something only Sunset would know!”

“You snore,” I answered instantly. “I don’t know how that’s possible when you don’t even need to breathe, but somehow you do.” For that matter, I’d been a bit surprised she needed to sleep too. After I’d done some research, I at least understood that—even if her body didn’t need the downtime, her mind still did. Most intelligent undead would eventually lose their mind and turn feral without some sort of regular dormancy period.

Rarity cleaned up the ritual implements I’d left out, using the movement as an excuse to finish her inspection of my new body. “It’s going to take quite a while to get used to this. I wasn’t expecting quite so much of a ... I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I think I’ll miss the old Sunset Shimmer.”

I grunted and nodded. “I thought about using one of the less extreme rituals, but we are about to go to war with someone who could match Celestia in a one-on-one fight.” Not to mention some of the extreme measures I’d needed to use to tie everything together. If there’d been more time and if Celestia had been alive to go over everything with me, I probably could’ve turned myself into a proper successor to her. Too bad I didn’t have any of those, and with decades of experience at necromancy I’d naturally fallen back on it to fill the gaps.

Maybe that was for the best. After all, Celestia hadn’t been made of solid adamantine.

Rainbow looked between my own metallic skeleton, then down at her own mostly organic body. “I don’t suppose you could … look, I’m not saying I wanna go full-on metal skeleton, but if you can make me even more awesome than I am already, then why not?”

I’d been expecting her to ask for something like that. “I’ll see what I can do. I assume you’ll want lighter metals than what I used, so you can stay fast.”

“Duh.” Rainbow spread her wings and tossed her mane. “And don’t mess up the colors. If you take away my rainbow or my dashing, then I’m not Rainbow Dash anymore am I?”

“You’re not wrong,” I allowed before shifting my attention to Rarity. “For what it’s worth, I should’ve listened to you sooner. It’s ... even without the war, it feels good just to not be old anymore.”

Rarity smiled and gave me a quick pat on the shoulder. “Your Highness, it would hardly be ladylike to rub it in and say that I told you so. But I did tell you so.”

Why did I have a feeling I’d be hearing that a lot in the coming years? I could just imagine it: every time I disagreed with her advice, she’d bring this up again. For a mare who insisted on following protocol and treating me like a princess, she could be very sassy when she had a mind to. With that in mind, I thought it prudent to throw her a bone to reduce the severity of future naggings. “Once the war’s settled, we might want to look into some cosmetic tweaks.”

Rarity’s eyes sparkled, and I knew I’d hooked her. “Oh, I would simple adore helping you with that. Helping design the armor and uniforms for our army has already rekindled my inner artiste, and the chance to help establish the entire visual style of a new princess—before the war I dreamed of doing that kind of thing. This might not be exactly what I saw in my dreams, but it’s ... good enough.”

Rainbow snorted skeptically. “I dunno, she looks pretty awesome the way she is.”

I shrugged. “Being a massive flaming metallic skeleton works great for fighting a war, but we should probably tone it down a bit for day-to-day.”

“What day-to-day?” Rainbow demanded. “It’s not like you have to worry that you won’t look at the next Grand Galloping Gala or whatever. What difference does it make what you look like? I mean, maybe it means you’ll have to hold books further away when you read ‘em, but that’s not a big deal.”

Rarity frowned and cleared her throat. “We still have to consider what to do with ourselves if we win this, Rainbow.”

Rainbow scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You’re kidding, right? The way you’re talking, you’d think we have something to look forward to after this. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I want that bastard Sombra dead, but after that ... seriously, what’s left? It’s gonna be the same old dead, empty wasteland with nothing left alive. What’s there to look forward to? Camping trips where we roast marshmallows over Sunset’s flame-head?”

“Rainbow!” Rarity scowled balefully at her. “I know you’re a bit uncouth, but honestly!”

I had the exact opposite reaction. Whatever part of my brain was responsible for coming up with mental images had apparently survived the transition just fine, because now I was imagining myself with marshmallows and carrot dogs speared on my head-spikes, slowly roasting in the open flame. That was too absurd not to laugh at, and before long I’d completely derailed the growing argument between my two friends. They both stared at me as if I’d completely lost my mind, until I conjured up a quick illusion to share the joke.

Rainbow snorted and fell onto her back, her legs twitching as she started laughing like a madmare. Rarity held out for a bit longer, trying to look dignified and above it all, but she couldn’t hold out for long, especially when both of us were already laughing. It was just so ... so perfectly absurd.

We all probably would’ve laughed until we were in tears if any of us had been capable of crying. As it was, we just slowly petered out. I smiled, or as close as I could manage with my new face. “It's been too long since we had anything to laugh at.”

“Too right, Your Highness.” Rarity sighed, then tried to recover a bit of her dignity without losing the grin on her lips. “Well, it seems we’re already doing better. After the war is over, you can get around and do all those things you didn’t feel up to doing once age started catching up with you.”

“That’s true.” I spread my wings contemplatively. “I suppose I can get around the world quite a bit faster now. There are a lot of places I never got around to visiting.” Just going back to Freeport without having to try the madness-inducing walk across the Dead Sea would probably be a good idea, let alone checking more exotic locations.

Rainbow’s ears perked up, and a tentative grin worked its way onto her lips. “Hey, that’s right, I’ll have a flying buddy now. Or at least, I will have a flying buddy—don’t suppose that ritual included lessons on how to use those things?”

I frowned and shook my head. “I’ll have to learn the old-fashioned way. I suppose we should work in some flight training while we build up the army.”

Rainbow nodded eagerly. “Lucky for you, you’ve got the best flier in Equestria to teach you.” She paused for a moment, then clarified, “To clarify, I meant that I was the best flier before everypony else died, not ... you know, the winner by default.” She tried to get back on track. “No offence, but you’re probably gonna need more than just flight training. It’s ... well you still kinda move slow and careful like an old lady with a bad back and sore hips. It’ll probably take a bit to get used to your new body.”

“Considering she was one yesterday, that’s no surprise,” Rarity murmured. “The habits one has built up over many years are not easily broken. Fortunately, we should have time to see to Her Highness’ flight training and anything else she might need. Even with the foundries working as fast as the facilities and staff can manage, we’re likely a few months away from being ready to move out.”

“That will be enough time,” I agreed. I headed for the door, moving a bit awkwardly as I tried to shake off all the the little subconscious habits I’d developed to make walking safer and less painful. “Shall we begin?” Rainbow frowned uncertainly, so I continued. “We have a war coming up, and I want to be at one hundred percent when we face Sombra. The sooner we start training, the sooner I’m done. Besides, I want to see what my new body can do.”

Rainbow led the way out the door. “Alright, no problem. We’ll start with making sure you’ve got all the basics down, then...”

Even after decades of time storms and the total collapse of civilization, the Crystal Empire was still beautiful. Sombra’s corrupting influence had altered the city, reshaping it into hues of black, red, and purple. Despite the heavy weight of dark magic hanging over the city, it was still an amazing sight. Maybe not even all of Sombra’s influence could destroy the city’s natural beauty ... or maybe decades of playing with necromancy had dulled my aversion to dark magic.

Just outside the city proper was a massive structure, probably even bigger than Sombra’s royal palace. A dozen huge crystal pillars soared into the sky, slowly curving inwards around a single central structure. The whole thing was pulsing with so much magic that I could feel it from kilometers away. I pointed it out to Rainbow. “Well, I guess we know what Sombra’s been up to. Why didn’t you mention he’d built that thing?”

Rainbow shrugged. “How was I supposed to know it was something new or special? I’ve never been here before, and I don’t have one of these.” She lightly tapped my horn. “Besides, soon as I saw Sombra was around, I bailed. Kinda figured that trumped everything else.”

“It might not have been as large when Rainbow was here,” Rarity pointed out. “Those pillars are still relatively fresh.”

“So it could be something he came up with to use against us,” I concluded. That seemed even more likely when I got a good look at Sombra’s army. He had it set up in a half-moon formation around the new structure, leaving his capital wide open. I couldn’t imagine Sombra’s ego would allow him to leave his palace undefended, so either he’d set a trap or that new building was so important that it overshadowed his royal palace. Neither of those boded well.

I wasn’t quite sure what to make of Sombra’s new army. Part of me had hoped that he might have a bunch of mind-controlled ponies we could free from his influence and use to repopulate the world. Unfortunately, all I saw was crystalline constructs that reminded me of my old golems. Rebuilding those would have been nice, but all my infrastructure for golem manufacture was in Freeport. Moving it to Canterlot and getting everything up and running would’ve taken months I didn’t have to spare.

Thankfully, I had plenty of other things to work with. The bulk of my army consisted of basic skeleton soldiers, carrying weapons and armor similar to what the Equestrian Royal Guard had borne in life. Pikes, halberds, swords, axes, and hammers had all worked just fine for the army in life, and they would suffice in death. I’d conjured up a few wraiths for scouting and flanking, while the center of my army had the largest, best-preserved corpses armed with much better gear than the basic steel the standard troops relied upon. I’d mixed in a few other nasty surprises to keep things interesting, like the squad of undead bears. Pity most of the more impressive monsters were much harder to bring back. Coming to the Crystal Empire with a couple dozen undead dragons would have made for a brilliant entrance.

A small force of crystal golems broke off from the bulk of his army, slowly marching into the middle of the field. Then they did something that really surprised me—they held up a white flag. Apparently Sombra wanted to parley. “Huh.”

Rarity scowled down at the flag. “How utterly ridiculous. Surely you don’t want to talk with that beast after all he’s done?”

Rainbow snorted and shook her head. “I say let him get close enough, then we let him have it. Sure, it’s truce-breaking, but it’s not like we’re gonna face a tribunal when this is over. Besides, he’s probably planning to backstab us anyway.”

“It’s a pretty safe bet he’s up to something,” I agreed. “However, he’s successfully piqued my curiosity. Let’s see what he has to say. If we play our cards right we might figure out what he’s up to and be in a better position for the battle. Not to mention...” I nodded to Rainbow, not quite agreeing with her suggestion, but not shooting it down either.

Rainbow grinned and pounded her forehooves together. “You got it. Give the word and I’ll kick him right in his crystal balls.”

Rarity pointedly cleared her throat, sparing a disapproving glare at Rainbow for her crudeness. “Perhaps should I stay back with the army? Having an extra set of eyes far enough away to spot any dangerous activity would be worthwhile, and ... in a straightforward brawl, I am the least useful out of us.”

“I would’ve suggested it if you didn’t.” If I’d actually anticipated serious negotiation, I probably would’ve been better off trading Rainbow’s hotheadedness for Rarity’s poise and charm. As it was ... yeah, I probably needed a warrior more than a diplomat. Not to mention... “You’ve got almost as much experience with controlling a lot of undead as I do. Congratulations on your promotion, General Rarity.” I passed control of the army over to her.

“Oh dear...” Rarity bit her lip uncertainly for a moment, then slowly nodded. “Yes, of course. No sense putting him in a position where he could decapitate our entire army with a single blow.”

I nodded as well. That had always been one of the insurmountable weaknesses of undead armies: without a necromancer to control them, an army became nothing more than a huge mass of undead mindlessly milling about and eventually crumbling into dust. Of course, the same was likely true of Sombra’s army of crystal golems.

Rarity took a deep breath, then reached up and squeezed my shoulder. “Be careful, Your Highness. You too, Rainbow.”

Rainbow snorted and rolled her eyes. “Why am I an afterthought?”

“Because you’re not royalty, darling,” Rarity answered primly, her hoof lingering on me for a few more seconds before slowly dropping.

I tried to smile reassuringly, but I’m not sure how well it worked with my new face. “Don’t worry, I can handle whatever Sombra throws my way.”

Once we’d improvised a truce flag of our own I headed out to the open field, surrounded by some of my elite skeleton warriors. Rainbow took point, her eyes darting left and right as she searched for any sign of an ambush or whatever dirty trick Sombra doubtlessly had in mind.

We were about halfway there when I saw Sombra himself. He still looked exactly the way he had in the history books, or the newer pictures from the war itself. To all appearances, being trapped in an inhospitable wasteland with only a few signs of life hadn’t been nearly so hazardous to his health as mine. Perhaps that shouldn’t have been a surprise; Celestia had mentioned that his time imprisoned in the shadow dimension had changed him. If he’d managed some sort of partial transformation into a shadow demon, he’d probably moved beyond the usual mortal needs for things like food and drink.

I glowered down at him. “Sombra.”

His eyes traveled up and down me, a smug smile on his lips. “My my my, who are you? I had no idea there was anyone else left on this world, let alone such a talented necromancer. The vessel you’ve constructed for yourself is magnificent, if you do not mind me saying so.”

“Actually, I do.” I saw no reason to waste time with pointless pleasantries. “If you wanted to negotiate, let me make our first and only offer: if you surrender, your execution will be quick and painless, and you’ll receive a proper burial.” Not that I especially wanted an undead Sombra hanging around my army.

Sombra chuckled and shook his head. “Short and to the point, aren’t you? Though honestly, quite rude about it. You could at least do me the courtesy of a proper introduction before you demand my surrender and execution.” He cleared his throat. “In better times, a herald would have seen to this for me, but ... I am Emperor Sombra the Ever-Victorious, first of my name;Dread Master of Crystal Empire, King of the Yaks, High King of the Caribou, Rightful Master of Ponykind, Lord of the North, Protector of the Realm of Ice and Snow, Inheritor of the Crystal Empire, the Smokebound, Coryphaeus of Wisdom and Benevolence. I am the Breaker of Vanhoover and the Ravager of Coldharbor; the Son of the Arctic Winds, the Morning Star of the Empire, the Iron-Willed Commander of Those Who March South; the Grand Emperor Who Is A Perfect Incarnation of all that an Emperor Should Be; the One Who Stands Alone in his Utter Perfection, and the Greatest Lord and Master Who Ever Was or Will Be.”

Rainbow and I sat there in silence, a bit stunned by just how long Sombra had gone on. Rainbow finally broke the silence with her usual tact. “You done?” She waited a bit longer to make sure he wasn’t going to start spouting off more ridiculous accolades, then stepped back and pointed to me. “This is Sunset. She’s the Princess.” She thought it over a moment, then clarified, “So that's Princess Sunset Shimmer, to you. You should probably kneel.”

Sombra’s eyes widened a bit, and he grinned. “Ah, Princess Sunset Shimmer, is it now? I thought you were an Archon, but I suppose it’s no surprise you’ve taken Celestia’s title for yourself. Most interesting. Tell me princess, was this transformation born out of the necessity of survival, or did you do this to yourself just for me?”

I scoffed and shook my head. “If you think I want to make small talk with you, you’re wrong. You have my terms; either accept them or stop wasting my time.” I pointedly looked back over my shoulder. “You might’ve noticed my army. You might also have noticed that it’s bigger and better-equipped than yours.”

Sombra threw back his head and laughed, deep and rich. “Oh what’s the rush? Surely you realize the situation we’re in? Unless there is some pocket of survivors somewhere out there that neither one of us has discovered, we’re the last sapient beings left on this world. If we slay one another, then there is nothing left. I’m sure the philosophers would love to talk about how it only took two living ponies on the planet for us to decide it wasn’t big enough and go to war.”

“I couldn’t possibly care less about the philosophical implications,” I growled.

“I’d gathered as much.” Sombra grinned at me. “A mare of action. Still, it seems a pity to think that there will only be one living pony left when this ends.”

I scoffed and shook my head. “Don’t worry, you won’t kill me.”

“I do not wish to.” Sombra waved a hoof magnanimously. “If you would hear me out, I have a counter-proposal: become my glorious empress and we will rule this world together, and rebuild it in our image. I have great plans, and your help would be priceless.”

Become his empress?! That had to be the most insane idea I’d ever heard. “I’d say that I’d rather die, but at this point that would be redundant.” That got an amused snort out of Rainbow.

Sombra was far less amused, but he still shrugged off my rejection easily enough. “That’s a pity, but I suppose I was being a touch too optimistic. However, I would suggest you think very carefully before taking any rash action. There is so much potential for what we could accomplish together. You’ve already thrown away the shackles of imposed morality that Celestia tried to put on you.” He nodded to my new body, and then my undead army. “You know Celestia would never have approved of this. She was a mare of narrow, limited vision. Anything that did not fit within her antiquated morality should be cast aside and forced to conform. She kept the ponies of Equestria docile and weak, little better than drones mindlessly obeying her whims.”

Rainbow scoffed. “That’s pretty rich coming from a guy who used mind-control helmets to make his soldiers fight for him.”

“That’s the natural order of things,” Sombra answered. “There are a few truly exceptional beings, such as myself and Sunset, and then the teeming masses who exist solely to carry out our wills and provide a large enough audience for our grandeur to be witnessed. The only difference between myself and Celestia is that she is a liar, while I am honest. I am glad to see that you’ve broken free of her foolish rules to forge your own path.”

“I didn’t break free of anything,” I growled. “I’m not some deranged lunatic like you. The rules I’m breaking existed in a different world, and we’ll never know if Celestia would’ve approved or not. She’s dead. You killed her when you broke the world.”

Sombra’s head cocked to the side, and a huge smile slowly split his lips. “Ah, now I see what this is really about. You think I did this?” He waved towards the blasted wastelands. “I suppose I should’ve expected you would blame me for every hardship you suffered. After all, I thought you were the ones responsible for the temporal anomalies when the first time storm struck the Crystal Empire. I thought Equestria had finally gotten so desperate they unleashed some new ritual that they lost control of, or one of your Freeport Magi dabbled in dark magic without fully understanding how to use it.”

“So you’re saying you didn’t do it?” Rainbow snarled, and I had to put a hoof on her shoulder to hold her back. “What a load of horseapples!”

Sombra shrugged, letting the accusation roll off his back. “Why would I lie? The world has already cast me as the villain. What is one more atrocity on top of all the others? Especially when I could claim such a decisive victory over all my enemies? But no, this calamity is not of my making, I only seek to take advantage of it. I would have gladly burned Canterlot to the ground and enslaved its citizens, but I still wanted something left to rule over. This absolute annihilation is simply madness.”

“LIAR!” Rainbow roared, struggling against my grip. “My friends, my family, my godkids, all of them are dead because of you! Don’t try and pin your horseapples on the Princess!”

I pulled Rainbow back, and tried to take back control of the conversation. “Even if I believed you—which I don’t—that would just mean you’re only responsible for millions of deaths instead of billions. It changes nothing. You’re still a monster, and I’m bringing you to justice.”

Sombra smirked at me. “Oh, you small-minded little mare. Don’t you see? It changes everything. Since unlike Celestia, I am not a liar, allow me to share the truth with you. You’ll find no pleasure in it, but sometimes the hard truths are the ones we need most of all. I assume you’re familiar with the infinite multiverse theory, Your Highness?”

I grunted and nodded, humoring him for the moment. If he wanted to give a big speech where he revealed all his evil plans, I would play the cooperative audience for him.“Right, the idea that every time something happens, it splits off into different parallel universes where it plays out differently.”

“Exactly.” Sombra grinned, falling into the role of orator. “Whether it’s a small difference like me having something different for breakfast, or something massive like my own birth never happening. Now, it seems that we had our universe’s timeline cut out from under it. A pony by the name of Starlight Glimmer attempted to alter the past, only to have a Princess Twilight Sparkle come back to undo the changes she caused. However, our timeline existed because of the changes wrought by Starlight, and once she reversed those changes ... its past no longer existed. An unsolvable paradox, but it seems that the fabric of the multiverse has an easy solution for such occurrences: it simply discards the entire universe.”

He turned his eyes upwards. “It makes a pony feel small, in a way. Our conflicts seem so great, but then you realize you're so tiny in comparison to what’s out there. We didn’t even do this to ourselves, not really. It just ... happened. And only here. In a million other worlds, the grand war plays out exactly as it should have, with no foolish meddling time travelers destroying us all.”

“I don’t suppose you can actually produce those time travelers?” Rainbow demanded. When Sombra didn’t immediately answer, she scoffed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Reminds me of when I got in trouble as a kid. I’d just make up the biggest, craziest, most insane story I could manage. Got my parents so wrapped up with the crazy that they forgot what I did.”

“Fascinating,” Sombra answered boredly. “Though really, revenant, you should be silent while your betters are speaking. As for my explanation, it is the truth. By all means, take a few years to thoroughly research it. I have no desire to fight a meaningless battle over an empty wasteland. If you retire I will stand down until you find out the truth for yourself.”

“How very generous of you.” I nodded towards the huge structure. “Though maybe it’s not so much generosity as buying time to finish whatever you’re up to with that.”

Rainbow snorted. “All those big pillars, makes me wonder if maybe you feel like you need to compensate for something.”

Sombra ignored her, putting all his attention on me. “As I said, I have plans.” He pointed towards the gigantic structure. “Think about it: there are a theoretical unlimited number of universes out there. Imagine the possibilities. We are free to do whatever we wish, now that I’ve realized that the nature of reality means nothing really matters. For every decision there is a split, another universe to exploit as we desire. Go to one universe and murder everypony there. It doesn’t matter, because in a thousand more they’ll all survive. In another one, I heroically save their lives from a deranged ax-wielding madmare. In a third, none of them were born to begin with.”

“So what?” Rainbow demanded. “You’re just gonna hop around the multiverse being a massive jerk to everyone you can find?”

Sombra spared a contemptuous glower her way. “You are a small mare who cares only for small things of limited vision. As I said, such things have no purpose. No, if we want to find an action that truly means something, it must be ... more. You see, I had something of a revelation in my years of isolation. An epiphany, inspired by the very broken world we stand upon.”

He turned his back on me, gesturing grandly as if he were speaking to a massive crowd. “Think about it: none of our choices matter. Our world was destroyed, but another lives on. Why? It doesn’t matter. A million and more worlds lay broken while a billion more go on to be paradises for no real reason, because choices were made. Choices that don’t matter because all choices have been made. I could be a prince or a pauper, a king or a courtesan—they’re all equally valid possibilities, and all equally meaningless.”

Rainbow slowly rotated a hoof around her own head, letting me know exactly what she thought of his theory. Privately, I agreed; Infinite Multiverse Hypothesis had long been rejected by just about every reputable magical and philosophical scholar. However, no sense in pointing that out when he was in the middle of explaining his massive evil plan. “Okay, let’s say just for the sake of discussion you’re right about that. So what?”

Sombra let out a frustrated snort. “Don’t you see?! The logic behind it all is really quite simple. If none of our choices really matter, then there can only be one real choice that actually matters: the choice to end all choices. Did you ever wonder why all the temporal storms ended? Because I ended them. What you see behind me is a device has absorbed all the energy produced by the temporal storms. Soon it will have enough power to unleash a temporal cascade that will ripple across time and space, hitting every dimension and timeline with the disaster that struck our world until everything is gone. All of it. I will deliver the entire multiverse from the pointless banality of an existence without meaning!”

“You’re nuts.” I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised Sombra had gone crazy. I’d been pretty loony after a long time without speaking to anyone, and Sombra had been alone for a lot longer than I had. Not to mention he’d been pretty unstable before the apocalypse had gone off. He’d probably cobbled together this whole crazy theory as a way to avoid accepting responsibility for all the destruction he’d caused.

Sombra threw his head back and cackled like ... well, like a pony who thought that blowing up the multiverse was a perfectly logical and rational thing to do. “Who cares?! Saint or monster, sane or insane, life or death! It’s all different sides of the same coin. If I don’t make the choice to destroy everything, then I will make the choice to destroy everything. It’s simple logic!”

Rainbow snorted. “Yeah, and pink zebras are logical if you’re stupid enough to accept that all zebras are pink.” She frowned, then leaned in and whispered, “Seriously though, is there anything to what he’s saying as far as blowing up other universes?”

“Infinite Multiverse Hypothesis was generally regarded as junk science,” I murmured back. “And even if it was true, I doubt whatever he’s trying would work. However ... it’s still a huge magical construct that’s been absorbing temporal energy for years. I don’t know what’s going to happen when he turns that thing on, but it won’t be good.”

“Gotcha,” Rainbow grunted. “So ... feather diplomacy?”

“Feather diplomacy,” I agreed.

Rainbow charged the crystal golems with an excited battle cry, slamming them aside. I focused on the big boss himself, hurling a ball of green fire at him for my opening attack.

Sombra conjured up a wall of black crystals to stop me, and started laughing again. “You still don’t understand, do you?! It doesn’t matter! You’re not saving anything! Even if you manage to stop me here, there’s another alternate universe where I’ll succeed! There’s probably one where you joined me and you’re helping me right now!”

“If that’s the case, why are we still here?” I countered. “If all it took to blow up the multiverse was a single lunatic with little magic, don’t you think someone would’ve done it already?”

Sombra froze for a moment, then snarled and hurled a wave of black crystal shards at me. That was probably as close as he could get to actually admitting I was right.

I swept his attack aside with a burst of wind, and Rainbow kicked one of the crystal golems into the redirected attack’s path, shattering it. She quickly shot up into the air and signalled Rarity, and with a sound akin to an incoming thunderstorm my army began advancing. That done, Rainbow turned and shot downwards, a mach cone forming around her as she powered into the rest of Sombra’s escort.

I didn’t waste any time playing around or feeling out his defenses, I went for the quick kill. “It’s over, Sombra.” I stomped on the ground, and a huge spike of ice erupted from the earth, skewering him.

For a moment I dared to hope that I’d won the battle, but then I noticed the grin on his lips. A second later Sombra’s body collapsed into a mass of shadows, dissipating on the breeze. A quick tracking spell confirmed my suspicions. “Damn, that was just a sending. The real Sombra’s back with his army!”

Rainbow snarled and finished off the last of Sombra’s golems. “Should’ve known he’d be too spineless to come out and face us himself.” She bolted into the sky, heading straight for the center of Sombra’s army.

I followed behind her, but even after months of training I couldn’t match her speed. “Rainbow, stop! You’re by yourself!”

Rainbow smirked and poured on even more speed. Then she tucked her wings in and fell into an insanely fast dive that probably would’ve turned me into a heap of broken bones (or liquified metal, now) if I ever tried it. At the last possible second she pulled off a ridiculously sharp turn, slamming into the front ranks of Sombra’s army with blistering speed. The first few crystal golems she hit simply shattered, and dozens more got sent sprawling by impact force. By the time any of them had recovered, Rainbow was already back in the air and coming around for another pass.

Meanwhile I threw out every scanning, tracking, and detection spell I could think of to try and find Sombra himself. At the end of the day, the battle would come down to either taking him out, or him getting me and my friends. Both our armies would go completely inert without their leaders. It didn’t matter if I lost most or even all of my skeletons, as long as I got Sombra in the process. It’s not like the world had a shortage of dead bodies.

I finally spotted Sombra hovering in the skies, the lower half of his body a huge shadowy mass. His attention seemed to mostly be on Rainbow, as he unleashed black lightning bolts on her with a snarl. Rainbow spotted the attack coming before I’d even called out a warning, tucking in one of her wings to roll out of the line of attack. Not only did Sombra’s spell miss her completely, but the lightning bolts went on to tear jagged holes in his own army.

“Damn you!” he roared, turning his next spell upon my own troops. The attack was far less focused than his first one had been the blasts hitting more-or-less at random. However, they were still powerful enough to do some damage to my forces even if they were hitting at random.

No way I was going to let him get away with that. Fortunately, necromancy did have a few advantages when it came to dealing with casualties. “Rise.”

My damaged soldiers reassembled themselves and rejoined the battle line.

With Sombra revealed, I made my move. “I’ve had decades to read through every single one of Celestia’s spellbooks. Let me show you what I’ve learned!”

My horn lit up, and something amazing happened. For the first time since the breaking of the world, the sun rose and the moon set. Sombra’s shadows writhed as the sun’s rays tore at them. After decades of twilight, he probably barely even remembered how to handle the might of the noonday sun.

Sombra nearly fell out of the sky before he managed to redouble the strength of his shadows to support his weight. “Oh really, you learned Celestia’s spells? And you think that gives you an advantage against me? Fool! Surely you don’t think I survived going horn to horn with Celestia without knowing how to counter her?!” Inky darkness spilled out of his horn, breaking up the sunlight and covering the battlefield with shadows.

“You’re right—you’ve learned a lot about how to fight Celestia. But you’ve overlooked two things.” The sun punched through his barrier of shadows. “First, Celestia knew just as much about how to fight you, and you better believe she included that info in her notes.” The shadows writhed as I took control of some of them, bending them to my will. “Secondly, I’m not Celestia. If you knew anything about how my magic works, you would’ve realized this battle was over before it even started. The brightest light casts the darkest shadow.”

Sombra gaped as I stole away some of his shadows. “That’s not ... how could you...” He sent a wave of shadowy tendrils towards me, trying to snatch me out of the sky.

I scoffed and conjured a blade of pure light to smash the attack aside, gathering up the tattered remnants of his shadows and adding them to what I already controlled. “You don’t get it, do you? Celestia didn’t just leave me with an empty title and a few old books. She left me everything. All I needed to do was reach out and take it.” More sunlight crashed through his shadowy barrier, illuminating me and filling my body a fresh surge of power. “The sun and moon are mine, Sombra. The darkness and the light both serve me, and I was always good at combining opposing forces.”

Sombra’s eyes widened as the full implications of that settled in. “To what end? Why does it matter what power you have? You are a princess without a principality, ruling an empty wasteland. What do you hope to accomplish?”

“This.” I unleashed my full power upon him in a single titanic beam of magic, the darkness and light winding around each other and blending together. The ground shook and the Crystal Empire trembled, many of the smaller structures cracking from the sheer force of the attack.

Sombra conjured up a massive shadowy bubble around himself. Then he made a second barrier to protect the first, and conjured up almost a dozen more layers to his defenses. It was one of the toughest, hardest to crack magical shields I’d ever seen.

It didn’t even slow my spell down.

When the dust cleared, Sombra lay at the bottom of a massive crater. Apparently all those defensive spells had been good for something after all, because they’d kept him alive. I landed in the crater and checked him over. Still alive, but it was a little hard to tell for sure after all the changes he’d made to himself. He wasn’t moving or fighting back, so I was pretty sure I had him beat. “It’s over, Sombra.”

He scoffed weakly, turning his back on me. “It doesn’t matter.” He chuckled humorlessly. “So what will it be? Immediate summary execution? A show trial where you serve as judge, jury and prosecutor? Or perhaps I should bend the knee and swear to loyally serve you instead?” He cackled. “Oh yes, that would be a perfect farce, but it’s as valid a choice as any, isn’t it?”

Rainbow landed next to me. “How about this for a valid choice, you big jerk?!” She kicked him right in the crystal balls. “Tell me that doesn’t matter!”

Sombra didn’t manage much more than a pained whimper by way of reply.

I looked down at him, and came to a decision. “You know what? You will serve me.” Rainbow blinked in shock, and Sombra’s jaw dropped. I placed a single hoof on Sombra’s forehead.

Then, with a single spell, I reduced him to nothing but a charred skeleton.

“Oh,” Rainbow murmured. “That works.”

“Rise,” I said to the bones. “Serve.”

The skeleton started standing up, and I almost instantly noticed something about him. A gleam of intelligence in his empty eyes that none of my other servants had. I closed my eyes and dove into the web of spells controlling him, almost instantly recognizing a few familiar patterns. Just like Rainbow and Rarity, this undead had sapience.

I tore the spells apart with a gusto I never would’ve dared with one of my only friends, shredding the energy holding Sombra together just to learn a bit more about how it worked. In mere minutes, I learned more about the creation of truly sapient undead than I’d gathered in all my decades of passive research.

Finally, I uncovered the greatest secret of all: a tiny spark of ... something. That indefinable energy that was the difference between an empty shell and a sapient being. Something Sombra, Rainbow, and Rarity had all possessed, but none of my ordinary soldiers had. And now that I’d found it, I could start properly searching for anyone else who might have it.

“Fascinating.” With a simple thought, I snuffed out that potential, condemning whatever was left of Sombra to the oblivion of true death.

Rainbow carefully poked the still-smoking skeleton. “Anything left of him in there? ‘Cause I really don’t want to have to kill him twice.”

“No, he’s just another empty shell.” I decided not to mention everything I’d learned yet. I was cautiously optimistic, but I didn’t want to get their hopes up and then have nothing pan out. Maybe once we had some more results.

Rainbow looked over the skeleton for a couple seconds, then grunted and shrugged. “Whatever, then. Make him do something really stupid and demeaning, I guess. I don’t care. He’s dead and beaten, and we won.” She stared at the skeleton for several seconds, then scoffed. “Justice and revenge. Woo-feathering-hoo. So what do we do now?”

I frowned and looked over the inert army of golems, and the Crystal Empire beyond them. “I’ll go over whatever Sombra left behind. Might get something useful out of it. Maybe even catch a break on the research into fixing everything.” I nodded towards the huge crystal structure Sombra had created. “Not to mention there’s a fresh mystery to unravel.”

Rainbow snorted. “At least you have something to do, then.”

Rarity trotted over to us, looking rather disheveled with a few bits of bone and crystal in her mane. “It seems we’ve all managed to survive. Are you both okay?”

“Looks like it,” I answered. “You?”

“I’m ... well alive isn’t exactly the proper term, but it’s close enough. I’m afraid I’m not really fond of the battlefield, even if a lady must manage sometimes. I do think I at least did a passable job of managing your army.”

I checked her over to make sure she hadn’t been damaged, then gave the army a quick look. “You did good, Rarity. Real good.”

She smiled appreciatively. “Thank you, Your Highness.” Her eyes flicked down to what was left of Sombra. “I must say, it is ... satisfying to see that we’ve destroyed that monster once and for all. Whatever was he ranting and raving about?”

I shrugged and tried to sum it up. “Something about using his giant crystal tower thing to destroy the multiverse, because life was empty and meaningless and none of our choices matter.”

Rarity sniffed and glowered down at him. “Well, I can understand why some might feel that way after everything we’ve suffered, but he’s wrong. I know our lives were ... a long way from ideal, but I still have some fond memories of our time together. I am glad I met both of you, and that my life did not end when so many others did.”

“I’m just glad Sombra’s done.” I slowly wrapped my one wing around Rarity, and after a moment’s consideration Rainbow stepped in range for my other wing. “Thanks, both of you. I couldn’t have done this without you.” Even if I could’ve beaten Sombra alone, without them I probably would’ve gone just as crazy as he had.

Rarity smiled and leaned into my touch. “You know we’re here for you, darling. We’ll be at your side until the end.”

Rainbow snorted. “I think we’re past the end, so ... yeah. We’re still here, and we’re not going anywhere. Guess you’re stuck with us.”

“I’m ... glad I’ve got you both.” I took a deep breath, a distinctly unnecessary bit of body language I hadn’t quite shaken. “This ... I think this is a good start.”

Rarity met the news with a raised eyebrow. “A good start, is it? So does that mean you have some grand new plan for what to do next?”

“What the hay’s left to do?” Rainbow grumbled. “We killed the bad guy, all that’s left now is a whole lot of hanging out with a bunch of stupid zombies and skeletons.”

“Maybe not,” I murmured. “Sombra probably has the best collection of books on dark magic outside of Canterlot, and almost certainly has ones we either never had a copy of or were lost in one of the time storms. It might be what I need to make a breakthrough. Plus I’d like to study that huge crystal thing Sombra’s built, and I think I can probably help you two become more than you currently are.”

Rarity frowned uncertainly. “What exactly did you have in mind as far as Rainbow and I are concerned, darling? I admit that while it might sound a bit vain and shallow, I would like to be a bit less ... corpsey.”

“I’m sure I can come up with something.” I looked Rainbow over and pondered what she would want. “I can probably help you be a bit more independent, and now that I have wings and I’m not old and crippled, we can go on more expeditions together.”

Rainbow nodded, and the barest hint of a smile appeared on her lips. “Yeah, exploring is a lot more fun when it’s not just me all by myself. That’s why most adventurers have sidekicks and stuff.” She paused, then smirked. “Plus now that you have wings, we can both carry the chariot with just Rarity in it, instead of me needing to haul both of you around. Though Rarity always was the heavi—”

“You do not want to finish that sentence, darling,” Rarity cut in with an entirely too sweet smile.

Rainbow swallowed and prudently kept her mouth shut. “Right, got it. Anyway, I think Sunset’s right—we’ve got a lot to do. No sense moping around when we can be out doing stuff.”

“Exactly.” My eyes flicked back to the huge crystal palace. “I wonder if there was anything to all of Sombra’s talk about different timelines and universes.”

Rarity frowned and nodeed. “He might have some notes in his palace. Assuming they’re not all insane scribbles.”

Rainbow thought it over, then shrugged. “Maybe you should look into it. At the very least, it’ll probably tell you more about his big crystal vanity project. If he was a total nut and there's nothing to it, all it cost us was some wasted time. But if he's not wrong...”

“It’s worth checking out.” I agreed. “Containing the time storms will help a lot with rebuilding. Plus if we can hop into an alternate universe we could at least get some help with rebuilding. And ... well if Sombra didn’t break our world, someone did.”

Rarity shook her head. “Do you really think he wasn’t the one responsible for all of this? Who else is insane enough to cause the destruction of a whole world?”

“I’m pretty sure it was him,” I conceded. “But we’ve got all the time we could possibly want, and I was planning to look into that crazy crystal thing he built anyway. If he was just nuts, we’ve still got something that’s containing the time storms. If he was a bit saner than he looked, we can get help from somewhere else. If he was right about someone else attacking us ... then they’ll get the same treatment he did.”

Rainbow scowled and nodded. “Damn right they will.”

Rarity nodded firmly. “Agreed, but that’s a remote possibility. Not to mention we have quite a few other things to concern ourselves with.”

“Quite,” I agreed. “We have a lot of work to do, and an entire world to restore.” I smiled as best I could at both of them. “At least now I feel like we can actually do it.” I turned my eyes to the rising sun. It was nice to see it properly once more—perhaps I should get a normal day and night cycle going again. “This is our world now. We should take care of it.”

This probably wasn’t what Celestia had in mind when she asked me to take up her crown, but I would rule her world to the best my abilities. If the world had been reduced to ashes, I would be the rising fire that led to its rebirth.

Author's Note

As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.

Click here if you want to join the list of awesome people who support my writing.