Equity Rose carefully nudged her ivory spectacles back up her snoot, ears flicking swiftly in succession. She was studying the piece of parchment in front of her as though its contents called for nothing less than the highest level of deliberation. That’s how it came across to Luke, anyway. Give the mare a shirt and tie and she could pass for a car salesman, albeit a rather unusual one.

“Sooo… what rate are we talking here?” Luke meekly asked, fingers crossed behind his back. Less than six percent, less than six percent, come on now.

“Well, taking into careful consideration your limited credit history, I'm pleased to tell you we can offer you a rate of eighteen percent.”

Luke blinked, a lead brick dropping to the pit of his stomach. “I’m sorry, it sounded like you just said eighteen percent.”

The barest shadow of a grin flashed over the mare’s face. “I did just say that.”

“But that’s… ridiculous. Look, I know there’s no way to prove it without somehow building an interdimensional bridge to Earth and putting you in contact with a credit agency, but I had a car loan for like, five years and I never missed a single payment. Surely that has to count for something?”

Equity frowned, her expression morphing into one of almost comical bewilderment. “What’s a car?”

An explosive sigh escaped Luke. This stupid mortgage application was beginning to feel like a pointless venture. “It’s like a… a cart that pulls itself. We humans use them to get around—not important. Is there any way you could reconsi-OH SHIT!”

Back on Earth, Luke had indeed bought a car through a hire-purchase scheme. An Audi S5, black, tinted windows, leather seats, very classy. It was perhaps a little on the expensive side, but he was somewhat of an enthusiast, and it was better than wasting money on cigarettes or drinking every weekend. As soon as the beloved ride popped into the forefront of his thoughts, however, it also ploughed through the cubicle wall, smashed Equity’s desk to pieces and crushed the mare herself against the stone outer-wall of the bank in a rather explicit display of vehicular carnage.

“What the fuck!” Luke half screamed, launching himself out of his too-low chair and backpedaling so hard his back actually hit the door. The car’s alarm blared, just like it used to when those little shitbag kids would kick their footballs at it just to get it to go off. The front crumple zone had done just that: crumpled. Equity Rose was quite clearly dead. There was even a puddle of red slowly beginning to stain the carpet beneath the spot where she was pinned.

“Fuck… Fuck!” Luke panted, bile, revulsion and panic rising in his throat and chest, each threatening to overwhelm. He had to turn away. Her eyes were still open, and with them being so large, the blank, lifeless stare they gave off made his skin crawl.

None of this made even the slightest bit of sense. How the fuck had his car followed him to Equestria? It sure as hell hadn’t been with him in the Alps. And who the hell was driving? Heart pounding in his chest, Luke stumbled forward, peering inside, but the interior was empty.

Beep beep. The alarm stopped.

“We never liked bankers,” said a voice.

Luke whirled around to find a vaguely familiar blue alicorn stood exactly where he had been standing not a moment ago. “Luna?”

Princess Luna, immortal diarch of Equestria and Goddess of the Moon. Luke had only seen her once, maybe twice in all of the time he’d spent in Equestria, and she may as well have been mute for all the talking she’d done on either one of those occasions.

The mare stepped up to the Audi. “What a peculiar machine. Does every human have one of these?” she asked, completely disregarding the dead unicorn slumped over the bonnet.

“Never mind that—why is it here?” Luke gasped, still trying to regather his wits.

“To relieve your anxiety, of course. Whyever else?”

Luke stared at the princess. “Did you do this? Are you fucking kidding me? She’s dead, Luna. One of your subjects. Do you even fucking care?”

Luna finally threw a glance at the half crushed corpse, but she turned her gaze just as quickly back to Luke, a look that almost resembled pity on her face. “So naive.” Lifting a forehoof, she stomped, the impact shattering the floor. It promptly broke into thousands of tiny pieces and fell away into an endless void. Luke jumped out of reflex, but there was nothing for his feet to push against. He just floated in the air as the walls disintegrated around him. The remains of the desk soon followed, along with his car, Equity’s corpse, everything literally fell to pieces in a bizarre display of accelerated entropy, right before his eyes.

Only Luna remained, eyes glowing white, body lit by an invisible source of warm light. When nothing else particularly horrible happened, comprehension dawned. “Oh… So this is the inside of your big box of mind altering magic tricks, then?”

Luna gave a rare smile. “A blunt hypothesis, but nonetheless accurate.”

“Had to hit me with a dead pony, didn’t you?” Luke deadpanned. “Couldn’t just ease into it with a creepy clown or a monster under a bed?”

“Ah, but the ending of a life,” Luna began, her horn meticulously weaving a blanket of stars out of absolutely nothing, “even violently, is not something one should ever take for granted.”

Luke closed his eyes, and by the time he opened them again, an endless lawn of moonlit green had met his feet. The sensation of gravity suddenly being turned back on was almost enough to detract his attention from what Luna had said. “Normal ponies don’t say things like that, Luna. You know that, right?” he intoned, shifting weight between his feet. This lawn, field… whatever the hell it was, was unnaturally flat.

"We could never claim to be a 'normal pony', considering the message we must deliver," Luna ominously replied. Her hoofsteps, though quiet against the moonlit grass, could be heard with perfect clarity in the unnaturally dead silence of the night.

"What message?" Luke asked, almost out of reflex.

“Our sister may regard what we are about to tell you as 'interfering' but we disagree. We believe you have a right to fully understand the choice you must make.”

Luke kept pace with the alicorn, throwing her a sideways glance. "A choice? What are you trying to say?" he fired back, thoughts instantly turning to his job, to his boss.

Luna turned, and for a moment, she looked far older than an ageless immortal had any business being. “You stand unknowingly at the threshold of the order of ancients. The pendulum is swinging, the gears already in motion. The siren will take away from you the gift of a natural death, and with it, the knowledge that your existence is finite. To one who has lived their life as a mortal, this probably sounds like a blessing. We are here to tell you the truth: it is not."

The barest hint of a breeze flowed over Luke’s skin, though, it could have been a mirage, given the bombshell Luna had just dropped. “Are you saying… I’m going to become immortal? I… I can’t die?”

Luna slowly shook her head, ever-flowing mane swirling with the motion. “Nay, dear human. We are merely informing you that if you continue to allow Fleur to lead you down your current path, the burden of choice will be thrust upon your shoulders, whether you like it or not. Through instinct and inaction, you will see generations flash relentlessly before your eyes, each one ageing whilst you retain your youth, before disappearing into an afterlife you may never experience.”

Luke felt the lead weight return to the pit of his stomach. Burden of choice. The prospect of living so long that one would actively wish for death was a terrifying one, now he was being forced to give it some thought. “So, if I ever wanted to die… I would have to kill myself? Is that how it is for Fleur?” he asked, sombrely.

Luna paused for a few moments, her gaze locked onto the ever distant horizon. “Fleur no longer has that choice. The magical ember grows ever stronger, given time. Her power is greatly underestimated, even by herself. We very much doubt she could find a way to destroy herself, even if she was utterly determined to do so.” Another wistful pause, during which Luna seemed to be contemplating things unknown. “You, on the other hoof, given the fates are kind to you, would be limited only by your will to survive—an instinct far harder to suppress than the average mortal realises.”

A long silence followed. Luke gazed out over the vast expanse of never ending meadow. It was as though he was standing in a metaphor of his current predicament, but the more he thought about it, it seemed like a no-brainer. What could be better than to live forever by Fleur’s side? Was he really being so small minded?

Luna didn’t prompt him for a response. "An inevitable death is a gift, dear human. Think wisely before you decide to relinquish it," she simply said, the unnaturally flat field being engulfed by an indistinguishable haze at her words of warning. Luke blinked at the sight, but Luna was gone by the time he opened his eyes again.

His lucidity lingering, the knowledge he was asleep drove his body to crave consciousness, and it wasn't long before he found himself lying beneath a heavy satin quilt.

"Dude. C'mon."

"I can't, M-Mr Tall Creature sir."

"Look, it's important. I'm kinda in the middle of an existential crisis here, so I'd really appreciate it if you scooched your furry little butt over and let me go talk to Celestia."

The questionably-small-for-a-royal-guard blinked from the inside of his helmet, which appeared to be around two or three sizes too large for his head. "My orders are clear. P-Princess Celestia is not to be disturbed while in day court," he squeaked.

Luke refrained from rolling his eyes, instead turning to the slightly taller guard, who appeared to be under the impression that if he just stared straight at the wall opposite, he wouldn't be obligated to join in the conversation.

"What about you? You new here as well?" Luke asked. He didn't really want to play the 'do you know who I am?' card, but he was running out of options.

The guard visibly flinched, his gaze flicking up to Luke for a split second. "Our new-ness is irrelevant. We are royal guards!" he declared, his voice wobbling an octave higher on the last couple of words.

The smaller guard also remembered he was supposed to have a spine. Tiny foot stomp. "It is our sworn duty to protect the crown and their assets. You, creature, are in breach of the royal castle code, directive nine-J, addendum b: no individual shall interrupt a royal court hearing without prior auth-"

"Oh, why are you here? Didn't you move to that hovel in Slateside?" a very familiar, overly-entitled voice interrupted.

Luke spun on his heels, just as Prince Blueblood cantered along the marble-clad hallway like it was a catwalk for pretentious ponies. "No matter, I'm here to speak with the Princess. Guards, escort this trash back to the ghetto, would you?"

Blueblood made a move toward the heavy wooden court doors, but the tiny guard, around a head shorter than him, held out a hoof. "Court is in session, Prince Blueblood. I'm afraid I can't let you in."

Luke raised his eyebrows.

Blueblood raised his even higher.

"I'm sorry, did I stutter, you pathetic little runt? I am a royal Prince, and I have business to discuss with Princess Celestia, whom I should not need to mention is my aunt-"

"Hold on a sec there Blue-tits, are you familiar with the royal castle code?" Luke interjected, holding up an index finger. "Directive nine-J, addendum b clearly states that no matter how many pinot gris grapes you jam in your asshole every night, you can't just waltz into the court whenever you feel like it."

Blueblood knickered in disgust. "I'll have you know that-" he began, but Luke didn't find out what Blueblood would have him know, as the courtroom door was suddenly bathed in golden light, swinging open with a disproportionately loud creak.

Princess Celestia loomed over Blueblood and the two guards, her usual smile absent. A look of mild irritability adorned her features instead.

Blueblood began talking regardless. "Auntie, these guards tried to stop me from entering! Me, of all ponies! I recommend they be dismissed immediately."

The guards shared a look, but Celestia's steely gaze never left Blueblood. "For what, exactly? Doing their jobs?"

"And the human-" Blueblood began, ignoring Celestia completely, but Celestia held up a hoof.

"-the human has important matters to discuss with me. You want a third aide to cater to your every whim during the gala, even though a mere second is an unnecessary waste of castle staff time. In fact, a majority of the other nobles are foregoing a service aide this year." She tilted her head to the side. "Would it perhaps be too foolish of me to assume you would follow such an example?"

Blueblood looked as though he was about to start turning the colour of his namesake. "But… But-"

"Leave, nephew dearest. I'm busy."

With her words, the tiny guard began softly headbutting the Prince's chest, nudging him backward, the slightly taller one following suit.

"I still get two though, right? Aunty?"

Princess Celestia motioned with a wing for Luke to follow, and Luke did so, making sure to grin widely at Blueblood being slowly buffeted along the corridor before the heavy courtroom door swung shut.

Celestia led Luke through a courtroom of which was mostly filled with wizened old ponies. A few of them gave him a curious look or two, but most paid him no mind, too busy taking notes. One old stallion with a particularly long beard appeared to be taking a midday standing-nap.

"Nephew dearest?" Luke repeated, once Celestia had closed the door to a private court-adjacent conferencing room they had just entered.

Celestia merely sat on her haunches and gave him a deadpan stare. "Just what is so important that you felt the need to pester my new day court guards for an impromptu appointment during session hours? It's not like you to seek my advice these days."

Luke leaned against the large solid oak conference table, half contemplating trying to hide his newfound dilemma. Probably a futile effort, truth be told. Not much got past Celestia. "What’s it like? Being immortal?"

Celestia's eyes darkened, her semi-vacant facade vanishing. A short pause. "What did she tell you?"

Luke let out a sigh, glancing at the lavishly ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling chamber. He knew he was throwing Luna under the bus. "She said I'd have… a choice to make," he muttered, her words playing over in his mind for what felt like the hundredth time. “But, she was a bit cryptic about the whole thing, I mean… She said I might be immortal?” Saying it out loud just made it sound all the more ridiculous. How could a human of all things indefinitely cheat death?

“Well, that is her style.” Celestia let out a tepid sigh. “I must confess, I would have much rather preferred you to wake up in twenty years time and ask yourself why you look exactly like your twenty-something self, but I digress.”

A long pause followed her words, Luke too lost in his own thoughts to fill it. After a while, he spoke. “Why? Why do I get to be an immortal? I wasn’t born one. Why won’t I die just like everyone else?”

Celestia closed her eyes, partly covered by her shimmering multi-hued mane, before opening them again. A familiar POP rattled the chamber, followed by deathly silence.

“To most of my subjects, a siren is a mythical creature. The ghastly horror of an old pony’s tale, perhaps. But there are a select few, you now among them, that know sirens are in fact very real,” Celestia rapidly spoke, getting to her hooves. Her wings hugged her sides, her voice dropping to a near-whisper despite having already cast the sound-lock spell. “Tell me, Luke, just how much do you know about Fleur’s little friend?”

Luke was caught a little off guard, having only discussed the siren with Fleur herself. Well, Fleur and now Luna. “Well, I…” he began, wiping his palms on his jeans.

“It’s okay Luke. I’ve known Fleur since she was a filly. Equador was a very different place, back then.”

“Well, from what I’ve gathered, a siren is a water-demon, a separate entity bound to a host. They feed on desire, and they hate pretty much everyone,” Luke listed off, careful to omit that the last rule didn’t quite extend to himself in Fleur’s case.

There was a twinkle in Celestia’s eye that suggested she might have known more than she was letting on. “True, on the surface, at least, but any history tome worth its salt could have told you that.”

“So there’s more?” Luke asked, puzzled.

Celestia threw a glance to the conference room door, then quickly back to Luke. “There’s an ancient bit of siren magic that every siren secretly both fears and craves. You won’t find any reference to it in a book—they never talk about it if they can avoid it. Even before sirens were considered the mythical beings they’re painted as today, they kept this little detail locked away from anyone but their own kind,” Celestia spoke, her horn flashing, though nothing happened. The deathly silence continued. “The only reason I know about it is because I’m several thousand years old.”

“Did Fleur tell you?”

Celestia shook her head, ripples flowing in waves through her mane. “Heavens, no. Fleur wouldn’t tell a soul. Any siren that divulges the secret and gets found out is outcasted at best, but more likely hunted down and murdered.”

Luke shuddered, half contemplating simply ignoring his curiosity, but it prevailed in the end. “So, what is it?”

Celestia grabbed Luke’s shoulder with a wingtip, and he nearly had a mini heart attack as she pulled him close, her large lilac orbs menacing. “Luke, you must promise me that you will not discuss what I am about to tell you with anyone other than Fleur—do you understand?”

“Okay! Relax… I got it,” Luke stuttered

Celestia released him at once, quickly resuming her pacing. “There is one thing every siren craves more than anything else in the world, even more than the endless admiration of the many. It is known as a consort. A consort is a perfect companion—the one true love, if you will, and the only love a siren can truly experience. If a host dares to force their siren to open up to any other potential suitor, they risk killing that suitor, for they are not the one. To a siren—a suitor is either a consort, or a nothing. It is something that deep down in their hearts, every siren knows she hardly deserves, but it is so, regardless.”

Luke stared in awe, thoughts flowing through his head a mile a minute. He had questions, but Celestia continued before he could ask any of them.

“Each siren is afforded but one consort for the entirety of her endless life. From the moment a consort is born they become magically bound to their siren, but the connection is weak. Unfinished. It is only when the two meet that the connection begins to strengthen. The siren knows immediately when she has found that which she has been searching for, but the host may well be oblivious.”

Celestia paused her pacing, levelling Luke with an oddly forlorn look. “Some sirens go for millenia, searching, driving themselves crazy with the notion that their consort may have been born, lived their life, then died, long ago, forever lost to the cruelty of time.”

A sweeping shiver flowed down Luke’s spine at the malice with which Celestia had hissed the last word. It felt like she had just cast the darkest curse known to ponykind, but there was nothing magical about it.

“Why… Why are you telling me this?” Luke finally whispered, his mind suddenly blank, unable to think.

“Because Luna was right. Luke, you are the counterpart to Fleur de Lis. You are her consort, and now you must make a choice.”

“Me? But… I-” Luke breathed, his palms suddenly clammy. He felt backed into a corner, like the walls were suddenly closing in. Fleur de Lis, thousands of years old, head of a multi-billion bit business empire, not to mention one of the most powerful sirens to have ever lived, and he was her only shot at love?

Celestia closed her eyes momentarily, her features softening. “I know this is a lot to take in-”

“Are you sure it’s me… I mean…”

Celestia smiled, and Luke felt a tiny bit of weight lift off his shoulders. “She’s never taken any kind of suitor before you, despite the thousands of creatures of all races that have tried to gain her affections over the years. She has always been too afraid of killing them.”

A fleeting moment of panic set in, but it was gone as quick as it had come. Luke knew Fleur could never hurt him. It was true. He was indeed her consort. The revelation settled, laying heavy on his heart.

“How do you know about all of this?”

Celestia’s smile vanished. She turned away for a moment, wings pressed tightly to her sides. “An old student of mine. She was young, by siren standards, just over six-hundred or so. One day, she hit me with a freezing spell out of the blue, then, just… started talking,” Celestia spoke, slowly, her voice dropping to a mere whisper. “I tried to block out her words when I realised what she was doing, but she forced me to listen, even though I kept screaming for her to stop. It didn’t take long for the others to find out, of course. They have their ways. She… took her own life about two weeks later, before they got to her. They would have killed me, too, but I had Fleur on my side.”

“Fleur…”

“-is an outcast from her own race, because of me. I owe her an immortal lifetime’s worth of favours,” Celestia finished for him. “She, of course, only ever owed me one.”

“The one that led me to her,” Luke whispered.

Celestia nodded, her horn flashing. The muffled sound of idle chatter once more emanated from beyond the closed chamber door. “Make your choice, Luke. Either way, you have my full support."

Author's Note

It's been years.

Time really does make fools of us all.