Of Moon and Sunby Curious MewChaptersMillennium's EveSistersOrder and HarmonyWyrmslayerMillennium's EveCelestia had been called many names over her long aeons of life. She was the Sunbringer, Dawnsdaughter and Skyburner. She was Earthshaker and Darksbane, Keeper of the Eternal Flame and Savior of Ponykind. She was Everlasting Light, Defender of Hearth and Home, and Sovereign of Day. Once, she had been hailed as the Scion of Order. In these more prosaic and peaceful times, she was simply Princess or Teacher. Yet, as the alicorn drifted through the void toward her Sun on the eve of the thousandth year of Luna’s banishment, there was only one name she ever wished to be called, a name she did not know if she would ever be known as again. Sister. Her eyes took in the stars as she approached her destination, their nature both obscure and known. She knew very well what they were on one level; they were akin to her Sun, a body she knew as surely as her own, for it was indeed her own. Yet out there, as she gazed into the endless black, they seemed cold and mysterious, distant and unknowable pinpricks of light. The darkness and coldness and stillness of the void changed them, just as familiar shapes seem strange, even frightening, in the dark of night. Which meant that, no matter how long she listened to their song, it did not bring her the comfort she knew it had brought her sister. For hers was the realm of the solid and the real, that which is left when the harsh light of day casts aside all shadow and artifice. Hers was the waking world; her sister thrived on the mysteries and liminal nature of the dark. Out here, gazing into the realm loved by her sister, Celestia wondered just how well she had ever known her. Certainly she had known they had their disagreements, what siblings didn’t? But she never could have imagined a fight like the one they had. Had that, too, been foretold by the stars, a sign she at least had missed? Back then, she had rarely looked to the stars for whispers of possible futures, preferring to leave that to Luna. Yet Celestia could understand their song well enough; she knew that this night would bring Equestria either salvation or damnation, and that it would be found in that unlikeliest of places: Ponyville, a small town she had intervened to help found based on their distant promise. With a final, graceful dive through the aether, Celestia alighted on the surface of the Sun. It was hot beyond all mortal reckoning; even Luna would have been scorched by its heat. But this was her domain, the one place she could fully remove her mask and be as herself. It barely even felt warm to her in a physical sense. Rather, she felt safe and comforted, as if resting in the embrace of a loved one, as she sank deeper into the Sun. She cast one last look at the Moon, and she felt the baleful gaze upon her as she finally brought her head down into her sanctum. She felt those distant eyes upon her, and knew that the prisoner, too, knew her sentence was at its end. Yet as Celestia sank deeper, down to the center of the Sun, that furnace of creation, she almost managed to feel removed from the worries of the past and present. Almost. But they were precisely why Celestia was here, the past and what would unfold over the next few precious hours meant everything. “Oh Luna, wilt thy return bring with thee sorrows and death, or wilt thou again be my beloved sister, the only one with whom I can be myself? Dost thou bring with thee an end to this Golden Age on thy raven wings, or wilt thou bring the most glorious and beautiful age when thy Lunar imprisonment is done?” The old vernacular felt right to her in that moment, even though it had long ago fallen out of favor, had been replaced by simpler rules. But this night would bring back much that had been lost, she reflected. The Elements of Harmony had never responded to her since that night when she forcibly channeled their power to banish her sister. They had been dead to her, worthless. So she had left them behind when she moved the capital to Canterlot, away from the ghosts of the past. They rested there still, in the Old Castle, a ruin where the fate of Equus would rest on the shoulders of her faithful student. As much as Celestia loved Twilight Sparkle, she could not help a shudder from coursing down her spine. She was still a young mare, but she had the kind of power that appeared in only one or two ponies every millennium, if that. She was the perfect mix of talent and determination, a mortal who one day might be truly fit to challenge the gods themselves. In many ways, the alicorn reflected, Twilight and Luna were alike in their thirst for knowledge, their intricate spellcraft, and their quick minds. And, if Celestia was being honest with herself, that thought scared her more than a little. Ponies of lesser ability than her sister and student had been dangerous enough when the lust for power entered their hearts; they had plunged Equestria into war and darkness, sacrificed the lives of so many to their own petty ambitions. One of the few who could be said to be Twilight’s rival had made a kingdom disappear alongside him, a promise that his conquest would not be denied, even if he needed to wait an eternity to achieve it. A scant few mortals had the vision and willpower to think and act on such scales. And if Twilight could not yet be said to fully belong to their ranks, Celestia knew, she would be before long. The storm of magic she had unleashed when she was still but a filly taking her entrance exam had promised as much. And another such pony who had in the end decided to seek power for its own sake, one who had once been her faithful student, had… The thought was too painful to continue. And Luna stood above them, in her might and Celestia’s mind. How she longed to believe that Nightmare Moon had not been her sister, that it had been nothing more than mere possession! Yet she could not afford to fall into mere hope. Without definitive proof that it was not so, she must see the two as identical. For had Luna not shown her face as her own in the moments before that final, fateful confrontation? A shudder coursed through Celestia’s body, and she felt an old, cold ache in her chest. No physical trace remained of the injury she had suffered, none of her little ponies who had lived for a long, long time had ever seen any evidence that their god could be injured, let alone killed. She suspected, however, that the scar in her Essence would never quite heal, that the attempted act of sororicide had left an eternal mark upon her being, a grim reminder of how close she had been to falling and letting the world fall into the dark. And that was the problem. Luna was an alicorn, a god made flesh, no matter how much she may have been weakened by her imprisonment. And Twilight, her precious Twilight Sparkle, a pony she loved as a daughter, was, despite all her power, mortal. It was a ridiculous gamble, that Twilight Sparkle, a mare who scarcely knew other ponies existed, would find not just five friends but five friends capable of wielding the Elements in a single day. It was the kind of gamble Luna would make, had made, like when she staked her own soul to save that of Spectral Glow the Inquisitive or when she risked everything to bring the Third Pony-Dragon War to a close. It was a plan worthy of the Patron of Travelers and Tricksters, not the kind of slow, cautious (perhaps overly so) deliberation to which Celestia was accustomed. But there was no turning back now. Twilight had been in Ponyville for several hours; things had been set into motion that could no longer be stopped or undone. Celestia’s horn glowed, not that a difference could be seen deep in the heart of the Sun, as she shifted the Sun and Moon into their proper places. “Luna, when it is time for the dawn, wilt thou allow me to again raise the Sun, or wilt thou fight with all of thy power to keep Equestria in darkness?” In just a few more short hours, it would be time for the Sun to again rise, for the nights here in the heart of Summer were oh so fleeting, just as the Sun hid away for most of Winter. In just a few short hours, all of Celestia’s fondest hopes or deepest fears would be realized. She felt helpless as she turned the situation over and over again in her mind, but there was nothing she could do. All she could do was trust in Twilight Sparkle. And trust in Luna. SistersLuna was walking past the door to Celestia’s private rooms when a muffled noise caught her attention. Her ears perked up and swiveled towards the door as the alicorn paused. Perhaps I imagined it? No, there it was again. Hesitantly, Luna knocked against the door. “Sister?” There was no response, but Luna was certain that Celestia was inside. The lunar alicorn stood there, uncertain of what to do, straining her ears to make sure that they were not playing tricks on her. At least, she was certain. Somepony was crying. Luna bit her lip and tried the doorknob. It was unlocked, but she did not immediately enter. Instead, she called out again. “Sister, I am about to enter thy chambers unless thou tellest me not to.” With no reply forthcoming, she moved inside, closing the door behind her, and made her way to Celestia’s sleeping quarters. At the threshold, Luna again paused, taken aback by the sight that greeted her. The older alicorn was indeed there, but she was curled up on her bed, head buried in her hooves, wings pulled tightly against her body. Her body trembled slightly, wracked by her muffled sobs. Slowly, Luna made her way over to her sister and joined her on the bed, wrapping a wing around her. “‘Tia, what is wrong?” Celestia did not answer immediately. Instead, she weakly tried to break out of Luna’s embrace before suddenly changing her mind and shifting closer against her sister. The two alicorns remained like that for some time, Luna trying her best to softly hum the songs Celestia always did for her when she was in distress. While the younger alicorn was certainly used to providing comfort to her subjects in their dreams, this was a situation she had never expected to find herself in. Celestia had always been the strong one, the one who comforted her when the stress of her duties became too much for her to bear. Finally, Celestia dried her eyes. “Is it my fault?” she asked, still not looking at Luna. “Is what thy fault?” “The war with the gryphons. Is it my fault that they attacked? Could I have prevented the war had I been a more able leader? So many died... Gryphons and ponies alike.” “I do not have the patience for politics, which is why I leave the matter in thy capable hooves. In this matter, however, I can assure thee that the fault is in no way thine.” “How?” Celestia’s gaze finally met Luna’s, her eyes searching and still swimming with tears. Luna sighed and nuzzled her sister. “I know because I was able to see the dreams of King Gregor when he invaded Equestria at the head of his armies. They were full of naught but glory and conquest.” She spat the words out as if they left a foul taste in her mouth. “He desired to expand his empire, and he believed he could do so by force.” She smiled grimly. “He was wrong, of course.” Celestia frowned and looked away. “Still, it is my responsibility to guide our little ponies and keep them safe.” “It is our responsibility, sister. If thou must blame one of us, then why not find fault with me? If the war was indeed caused by flawed diplomacy, then surely I am the one who caused the offense. Gregor and I despised each other from the first we met.” Celestia shook her head. “But I am the one who managed all of our negotiations. The two of you only met two or three times before the war.” Luna closed her eyes. “Could we have negotiated with the draconequi, found some way to end their reign that avoided any bloodshed? Or what of Dakorgon when he desired to rule over ponies and dragons alike?” “I very much doubt that there was any way but war.” “And this was the same. Gregor wanted to continue his conquests, to build further on his legacy as the Unifier of Gryphonkind. Thou once toldest me not to shoulder burdens that are not mine to bear. I believe thou shouldst listen to thine own advice.” “I...” Celestia hesitated. “I’m sorry. Thou art right. I apologize that thou hadst to see me like this.” “There is nothing to apologize for!” Luna shook her head. “I know that our subjects expect thee to be perfect, to be unwavering and to always have all of the answers. They wish for divinity to mean perfection. “And I will admit that I was, for a moment, surprised to see thee in such a state. But that shows the same failing on my part, not any flaw of thine. Please, Celestia, as I have always relied on thee, allow me to help carry some of thy burdens. Allow thyself to remove all of thy masks when we are together.” Luna stopped, but Celestia remained silent, so she continued. “It is like... clouds.” “Clouds?” Celestia shot her sister a puzzled glance. “Indeed! Dost thou remember when we visited Clousdale to examine the new weather device? It pumps water vapor through a series of pipes to produce clouds!” Luna frowned slightly as something else crossed her mind. “It is... slower than traditional methods at the moment, but that is irrelevant, I think. What matters instead is that the faster water vapor runs through the system, the faster the clouds are produced. The device, however, is prone to failure if it is run too quickly. If that happens, then it must be repaired before any more clouds can be produced. On the other hoof, is one is careful and avoids overstressing it, catastrophic failure can be avoided. “In conclusion” – Luna poked her sister in the side – “thou needest a way to slow down from time to time. A space to simply be thyself. And, no, if thou wert planning to hide thy pain from me, then thou art still wearing at least one mask in my presence, no matter how many others thou removest.” Celestia smiled and hugged her sister. “I suppose thou art no longer a little filly. Instead, thou hast grown into a wise and wonderful mare.” “Sister! Thou art embarrassing me!” “I believe that is one of my duties. But, yes, I should rely upon thee more.” Celestia hesitated for a moment. “But dost thou have any duties to which thou must attend tonight?” “‘Tis a quiet night. Nothing should require my immediate attention, as far as I know, and my Rangers can contact me should that change. I am here for thee, ‘Tia.” “...thank thee.” Author's Note The Lunar Rangers are inspired largely (not least in their name) by the organization of the same name featured in some of Cynewulf's work such as Redeem Us in Our Solemn Hour. Order and Harmony“Your majesty,” Celestia said, dropping into a bow before the tall, dark purple alicorn before her. He regarded her with his eyes, inky pools of unfathomable darkness. Leisurely, he gestured for her to rise and, as if inquiring about the weather, asked, “What is thy report?” “Queen Dawn has fallen.” Her eyes stared into his, searching desperately for a sign. He nodded. “So the citadel has been breached. We suppose it is only a matter of time before the enemy reaches us here.” That was what she had always hated more than anything; he always seemed so unconcerned with the world, though she was never sure if it was an act or if he truly was nearly devoid of emotion. Celestia nodded as the reports came in. It had been a freak accident, a miscommunication between two squads of Fillydelphia’s weather team that had coincided with a storm of non-equine nature blowing in from the sea. The result had been a hurricane. Half of the city was underwater, thirteen ponies were confirmed dead, and dozens more were missing. Such events were rare, but not entirely unknown. The last had been nearly three centuries ago. “Of course, I’ll need to schedule a press conference. Would you mind setting one up for two hours from now? Thank you. Disaster relief will be necessary. How much is currently in our dedicated fund? Two hundred million bits? I doubt that will be enough.” Celestia made a mental note to increase its size. There would be no issue with obtaining the money from elsewhere in the budget, but it would mean less paperwork the next time a disaster of this sort happened. “The treasurer is still in Manehatten, is he not? Good; he should be able to make the necessary arrangements swiftly.” She sent off ten forms, all in duplicate. “Now, before I have to go talk to the press, what else was on the agenda? Do we need to reschedule, or can those of you in the Equestrian Weather Administration and the Equestrian Emergency Response Administration handle things from here? Excellent. So, does anypony have anything they would like to share regarding the public comments on the new railway proposal?” Luna barged into the room, tears glistening in the young alicorn’s eyes. “What dost thou mean, Mommy fell? Is she okay, ‘Tia?” “Luna,” Dusk said, the slightest hint of a frown creeping into his face. “Talk to thy sister with the respect she is due. She is thy elder. And We would imagine that the General meaneth to say that the Queen is dead. Wouldst thou like to confirm?” Celestia looked into her sister’s wide eyes, already overflowing with tears, and hesitated for a moment. Then she looked to her father, face as unreadable as ever. “Yes. Queen Dawn is dead. She died well, though; it took four draconequi and the Traitor himself to kill her. Only he survived.” Luna stared at her sister for a moment before turning and running from the room with a sob. “Let her go. The young often get so emotional over such matters, though she will find her composure in due time. We have actually important things we must discuss, however, and time is growing quite short,” came her father’s voice from behind her as she watched her sister leave. “Princess, it’s time for the press conference.” “Of course, thank you. Well, then, this meeting is adjourned.” The press conference was a simple affair. Celestia confirmed the reports of the latest figures regarding the loss of life and property and discussed the basics of the disaster relief plan. Then, she took questions, most of which centered around how she planned to reduce the risk of another such tragedy. Then the allotted time was up. It had been a simple affair, really, so very much like all the other press conferences she had held. “Thank you. That will be all for now. I would just like to assure everypony once again that this issue is our top priority for the moment.” Then, she walked away, ignoring the last questions the reporters shouted out after her. “May I speak freely, your majesty?” “Very well. What is it?” “Do you even care that your wife is dead and that your youngest daughter is likely curled up on her bed crying uncontrollably, likely muffling her sobs in her pillow with none to comfort her?” “Watch thyself, Celestia,” he growled. Then, almost imperceptibly, his face softened. “Of course I care. Whatever thou thinkest, I was fond of Dawn, and I feel the same toward thee and thy sister. But we have other concerns; such matters are trivial in comparison and we cannot allow petty sentiment to cloud our judgment. Moving the sun alone every day may yet prove to be beyond thee when combined with the demands of war, and Luna certainly cannot yet control the moon, if that even is her destiny.” Celestia stiffened at the implications of that statement. “Father–” Dusk held up a hoof. “Peace, Celestia. My place is here, and I know I will not survive. Thou must take thy sister and flee. The unicorns can move the sun and moon should it prove necessary, though I suspect that Chaos will reign for a time, making the matter moot. Ah, I never told thee? Once, before thy birth, Dawn and I were otherwise engaged, fighting in a previous war between Order and Chaos, and we left the matter in their hooves.” The room shook; Celestia jumped slightly, but Dusk was unmoved. “There are still several ponies from that time; it seems that they were exposed to some energies on the campaign that extended their lives far beyond the limits of most mortals. Still, I think the time of the eldest especially may be drawing to a close. Regardless, they are powerful mages and a stalwart allies. Seek out the unicorns Star Swirl and Clover.” The room shook again. This time, Celestia was prepared and merely nodded, ignoring the signs of impending destruction. “Princess? May I, um, may I ask a question?” Celestia turned to regard her secretary, who had lingered as the last of the Day Court’s business was concluded. “Of course you may, Raven.” “It’s just that, well, with everything today,” the mare fidgeted. “Um, what I mean is...” “You want to know how I stayed so calm in light of the news and even addressed the rest of the royal business for today. You are wondering if I even care about the lives lost today.” It was a statement, not a question, and Celestia kept her voice calm and level. She looked mortified, but slowly nodded. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t wonder. Of course you do and–” Celestia held up a hoof. “You are correct, I do care. I care deeply. Today was hard, but I have had much practice dealing with tragedy over the course of my life. However, we did have other concerns today, and other ponies expect me to be strong, to be in control in a crisis.” She sighed. “Truly, I wish that I could have set aside many of them, but some of what seems trivial actually is important. The new railway could, for instance, could greatly speed the delivery of supplies to the site of a disaster should another one occur. “I… I actually knew two of the ponies who died today. They were former students of mine, yet I cannot grieve publicly, at least not yet. Perhaps at a funeral, but even then I must carefully balance emotion with control.” She looked her in the eyes. “Tell me, what would you think if you saw me break down sobbing?” “I… well…” She broke eye contact and looked at the ground. “Goodnight, Raven Inkwell. Tomorrow, we have to work on scheduling a meeting with the loved ones of the victims. You did well today.” Luna ran back into the throne room. Her eyes were red from crying, but now also wide with panic. “Celly! What’s happening?” This time, Dusk did not bother to correct the informal manner of her speech. Instead, he cast a critical eye at the door, which was beginning to show cracks from the continuing assault. With a flash of magic, he was clad in glorious silver and ebony barding, his spear, Gungnir, floating by his side. “Celestia, take thy sister and go now.” Luna looked at him with a start. “F-father?” “Is there truly nothing else you wish to say?” Celestia asked, her gaze torn between Dusk and the door. “We leave everything to you. Only thou canst defeat Chaos after Our inevitable fall.” “Y-your fall!?” Luna squeaked. The room shuddered again, and Luna clung to Celestia. The door was likely only one solid hit away from breaking. “That is all?” Celestia asked. “Celestia! That is enough! Go!” Dusk shouted, his composure finally shattering. Celestia never knew if it was because she had failed to comply immediately with a direct order or if there was something else that made him snap. She gathered Luna in her magic and, without another word, teleported to safety. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of the door shattering and an alicorn, flanked by draconequi, entering the room. Celestia passed by Luna’s room just as the door opened. Her sister strode out, blinking wearily, floating a cup of coffee beside her, an opossum scampering out after her. “Good evening, Sister. I was just on my way to lower the sun.” “Indeed.” Luna yawned. “Time for me to raise the moon, then.” She absentmindedly stroked the opossum and took a drink, some of the coffee spilling out of her mouth and onto the floor. She sighed and cleaned it up with a flash from her horn. Celestia smiled. “I’m glad you’re my sister.” Luna blinked. “The feeling is, of course, mutual, but what brings about this comment?” Celestia shook her head. “Memories, and a rough day. Without you, well, I’m just afraid I would have ended up too much like them.” Luna gave her sister an uncertain look, but managed a half smile. “Perhaps you can fill me in as we change the day to night?” “Yes, let’s do that. Together.” Author's Note Luna's pet opossum comes from the comics and is named Tiberius. While the comics are not canon to this fic and you do not need any degree of familiarity with them to understand it, that was something from them I found cute and decided to include. Also, AestheticB's The Immortal Game (rated Mature) almost certainly had some influence on at least my conception of alicorns other than Luna and Celestia. WyrmslayerLuna walked slowly toward the cottage. The scenery was idyllic as always, made even moreso by the splendor of her sister’s daybreak. Mist swirled between the distant peaks and down their slopes, mingling with the forests that covered them under the pink light of dawn. As the wind swept through her mane, she could smell the faint scent of wildflowers and damp earth. She could see the crisp, clean snow on the far away peaks, but there on the Vernal Mount, the resting place of the Lord of Spring, none was to be found despite the year approaching its end. How she wished she could set aside her current business and take in the pristine mountain view, so far away from her troubles, whether they were caused by dragons or blacksmiths! But I have business to which I must attend, no matter how unpleasant it may be. I am a princess and bearer of the Elements of Harmony, not a little foal! I helped lead the liberation of Equestria and sealed Discord away in a prison of flesh turned to stone! This task will be trivial. Sighing, she reached the cottage door. She hesitated, taking one last longing look out across the mountains, before knocking softly. She waited, but no reply came. She waited a moment more before knocking again, more loudly. This time, she did not have to wait long before the door opened, and she came face to face with a wizened old gryphon, or, as Luna reminded herself, a being that looked like a gryphon. He had been alive far too long to be a regular mortal, and she had not finished narrowing down the possible answers to this puzzle. “Ah, Luna, how art thou? Or should I call thee Princess now?” he gazed at the sky. “I would hazard a guess that thou finally defeatedest those of Chaos, alongside thy sister, of course.” Luna shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, we did, Master Dvalinn. Is your husband home? I– We have business We wish to discuss regarding m-Our blade.” “There’s no need to be so formal with me! Thou art royalty, and I am but a humble smith. He is out at the moment, but please come in. I’m sure I can at least offer some initial advice; we did forge it together, after all,” Dvalinn replied, holding the door wide for Luna to enter. “Dost thou have thy sword with thee?” Luna looked at the ground, drawing a circle with her hoof. Inaudibly, she mumbled something. “I’m afraid my hearing isn’t quite what it once was. If thou wantest my help, then thou must speak more loudly.” “We said that, er, what happened is, well, We lost it,” Luna answered, a faint blush rising to her face. Dvalinn clacked his beak. “Thou lostest Nægling?” he asked, an edge creeping into his voice. “Yes, you see–” The gryphon irritably waved a talon in her face. “No, no. No need to explain. I presume it happened during the final battle with Chaos and that everything was all very chaotic and that thou didst thy best. But what of Gungnir?” “We did reclaim our father’s spear, but We must confess that We prefer the sword.” Luna floated a scroll and a large chunk of a lustrous metal out of her saddlebags. “This is lunar silver, for the new blade. We have already infused it with some of Our power, and the scroll containeth the runes We would ask you to etch into it.” Dvalinn sighed. “And when wouldst thou like to have this sword?” “By the solstice, so that We might be at the height of Our power to weave the final enchantments.” “That is not much time.” “We apologize, but Dakorgon is already harrying Equestria’s borders. ‘Twill not be long before war, We fear.” With a grimace of distaste, Luna floated one last item out of her saddlebags. It was a long, dark blue horn, though it seemed to shift in and out of existence, and the space around it seemed distorted. “For payment.” Dvalinn’s eyes widened as he beheld it. “An alicorn horn corrupted by Chaos magic? This must be the only one of its kind to ever exist. Gruesome as it may be, the crafting potentials are… immense. This is suitable payment. Subtle Forge and I will certainly make this new blade for thee.” He scrutinized the scroll. “Though I presume thou wilt have no objections if we add other runes alongside these?” Luna nodded. “I trust your judgment completely in matters of smithing.” As the alicorn departed, Dvalinn shook his head and sighed. I have a soft spot for that filly, or I’m just going soft in my old age. Two weapons for one pony in less than a century? This is unprecedented. All she could feel was the pain. The pain in her head. She was unable to feel anything else. Luna blinked her eyes. She clearly remembered being grabbed by the dragon Dakorgon and him breaking her wings and throwing her away. She had hit the ground hard, she remembered that much. After that, she had passed out. And now she only felt her head. She cursed as she realized that her spine must have broken near the base of her neck. Such an injury was more than survivable for an alicorn such as herself, but it would take time to heal. Luna decided that there was no point in trying to do anything about it at the moment; an injury of this magnitude would likely be beyond her skill to heal alone. While she was unable to move her head, she was still able to look around with her eyes. She seemed to be propped up against something, a rock, she assumed, so she was able to see both forward and up rather well. The sky was filled with storm clouds from which came both lightning and a torrential downpour. Amid the clouds, squadrons of pegasi clashed with dragons while spells from unicorn soldiers on the ground rent the sky. Earth ponies protected them if a dragon crashed to the ground still alive or landed in order to take out the mages who hurled spells against their scales. In the middle of the fight, Luna could make out a single white pony clad in radiant golden barding dueling an enormous red dragon. Even as she watched, however, she saw the dragon, Dakorgon, strike the pony with one of his massive claws, sending Celestia tumbling toward the ground. “Sister!” Luna cried, and reached out with her magic, slowing Celestia’s descent and bringing her to her side. Celestia was bleeding profusely, and her eyes were unfocused. This was bad. Luna quickly stitched up the worst of Celestia’s wounds and summoned her blade to her side as Dakorgon landed with a crash in front of them. He eyed them and let out a deep, thunderous laugh. “Pathetic, absolutely pathetic. This was the best Equestria could offer against me? Die failures, not even worthy of remembrance.” With that, he opened his mouth, eyes closing. Immediately, Luna surrounded herself and her sister in a shield and sent her sword flying toward Dakorgon. Flames beat against her barrier, and she grunted with the strain of maintaining the shield in the face of the inferno that raged against it. Relying solely on memory, Luna guided her sword, which she assumed was now little more than a molten shaft of metal, into Dakorgon’s mouth and drove it upward into his brain with all the force she could muster. Suddenly, the fire ceased and, with an earth-shaking crash, the great Dragon King fell to the side. Luna let down her shield with a sigh as, all around her, she heard ponies let out a cheer of victory and saw the dragons take flight, having lost the desire to continue to prosecute this battle with the death of their king. Whether the war would continue, however, would depend on who seized the empty throne in the coming weeks. “Princesses!” a voice called. “I’ll get you aid!” A few moments later, Luna sighed in relief as she felt the rest of her body, pained though it was and tingling with the unpleasant sensation of medical spells. Seeing Celestia similarly revived, she turned to face a group of drained unicorns. “Thank you,” she said. One of them nodded and gasped out, “Your wounds were severe, and we could only do so much. You’ll need plenty of rest to fully recovery.” Luna nodded and turned to Celestia. “Thou didst well today, Luna,” Celestia said with a smile, leaning in to nuzzle her sister. “I thank thee for saving my life, and all of Equestria.” “I did not do it alone. Thou wast essential, as were all our little ponies. Surely we will both celebrate and grieve this battle for a long time to come.” She let out a sigh and reluctantly looked toward Dakorgon’s body. “I fear that my new blade survived scarcely a year.” Bracing for the worst, she reached out with her magic and pulled her weapon out of his skull. To her shock, aside from the bloody stains that coated it, the blade was untouched. With awe in her voice, Celestia said, “Truly Dvalinn and Subtle Forge outdid themselves this time.” As Luna finished recounting her story, Subtle Forge asked, “Havest thou a name for thy blade yet?” Luna looked at the ancient Earth pony, glanced at the gryphon beside him, and then answered, “Quencher.” Dvalinn let out an incredulous snort. “Quencher? That name seems far too pedestrian for a weapon worthy of legend. I’m afraid the ridiculous naming conventions of mortal ponies may have rubbed off on thee.” He let out a squawk as Subtle Forge gave him a playful punch in the shoulder. Luna muttered, “The name is appropriate. This sword quenched the flames that threatened to engulf, both literally and figuratively, all of Equestria.” Then, solemnly, she continued, “The two of you have done for Us a great service. If there be any boon that We may grant, then simply ask.” Dvalinn and Subtle Forge looked at each other for a moment, before the stallion turned to her with a grin. “As long as thou keepest this one, we have nothing we require.” Luna blushed and simply nodded as the pony and gryphon laughed. Author's Note In case anyone is unfamiliar with the rules surrounding "you" and "thou", "you" used to be used as a respectful, formal pronoun and as the second-person plural whereas "thou" was used to indicate familiarity or to speak to someone of lower social rank.
Millennium's EveCelestia had been called many names over her long aeons of life. She was the Sunbringer, Dawnsdaughter and Skyburner. She was Earthshaker and Darksbane, Keeper of the Eternal Flame and Savior of Ponykind. She was Everlasting Light, Defender of Hearth and Home, and Sovereign of Day. Once, she had been hailed as the Scion of Order. In these more prosaic and peaceful times, she was simply Princess or Teacher. Yet, as the alicorn drifted through the void toward her Sun on the eve of the thousandth year of Luna’s banishment, there was only one name she ever wished to be called, a name she did not know if she would ever be known as again. Sister. Her eyes took in the stars as she approached her destination, their nature both obscure and known. She knew very well what they were on one level; they were akin to her Sun, a body she knew as surely as her own, for it was indeed her own. Yet out there, as she gazed into the endless black, they seemed cold and mysterious, distant and unknowable pinpricks of light. The darkness and coldness and stillness of the void changed them, just as familiar shapes seem strange, even frightening, in the dark of night. Which meant that, no matter how long she listened to their song, it did not bring her the comfort she knew it had brought her sister. For hers was the realm of the solid and the real, that which is left when the harsh light of day casts aside all shadow and artifice. Hers was the waking world; her sister thrived on the mysteries and liminal nature of the dark. Out here, gazing into the realm loved by her sister, Celestia wondered just how well she had ever known her. Certainly she had known they had their disagreements, what siblings didn’t? But she never could have imagined a fight like the one they had. Had that, too, been foretold by the stars, a sign she at least had missed? Back then, she had rarely looked to the stars for whispers of possible futures, preferring to leave that to Luna. Yet Celestia could understand their song well enough; she knew that this night would bring Equestria either salvation or damnation, and that it would be found in that unlikeliest of places: Ponyville, a small town she had intervened to help found based on their distant promise. With a final, graceful dive through the aether, Celestia alighted on the surface of the Sun. It was hot beyond all mortal reckoning; even Luna would have been scorched by its heat. But this was her domain, the one place she could fully remove her mask and be as herself. It barely even felt warm to her in a physical sense. Rather, she felt safe and comforted, as if resting in the embrace of a loved one, as she sank deeper into the Sun. She cast one last look at the Moon, and she felt the baleful gaze upon her as she finally brought her head down into her sanctum. She felt those distant eyes upon her, and knew that the prisoner, too, knew her sentence was at its end. Yet as Celestia sank deeper, down to the center of the Sun, that furnace of creation, she almost managed to feel removed from the worries of the past and present. Almost. But they were precisely why Celestia was here, the past and what would unfold over the next few precious hours meant everything. “Oh Luna, wilt thy return bring with thee sorrows and death, or wilt thou again be my beloved sister, the only one with whom I can be myself? Dost thou bring with thee an end to this Golden Age on thy raven wings, or wilt thou bring the most glorious and beautiful age when thy Lunar imprisonment is done?” The old vernacular felt right to her in that moment, even though it had long ago fallen out of favor, had been replaced by simpler rules. But this night would bring back much that had been lost, she reflected. The Elements of Harmony had never responded to her since that night when she forcibly channeled their power to banish her sister. They had been dead to her, worthless. So she had left them behind when she moved the capital to Canterlot, away from the ghosts of the past. They rested there still, in the Old Castle, a ruin where the fate of Equus would rest on the shoulders of her faithful student. As much as Celestia loved Twilight Sparkle, she could not help a shudder from coursing down her spine. She was still a young mare, but she had the kind of power that appeared in only one or two ponies every millennium, if that. She was the perfect mix of talent and determination, a mortal who one day might be truly fit to challenge the gods themselves. In many ways, the alicorn reflected, Twilight and Luna were alike in their thirst for knowledge, their intricate spellcraft, and their quick minds. And, if Celestia was being honest with herself, that thought scared her more than a little. Ponies of lesser ability than her sister and student had been dangerous enough when the lust for power entered their hearts; they had plunged Equestria into war and darkness, sacrificed the lives of so many to their own petty ambitions. One of the few who could be said to be Twilight’s rival had made a kingdom disappear alongside him, a promise that his conquest would not be denied, even if he needed to wait an eternity to achieve it. A scant few mortals had the vision and willpower to think and act on such scales. And if Twilight could not yet be said to fully belong to their ranks, Celestia knew, she would be before long. The storm of magic she had unleashed when she was still but a filly taking her entrance exam had promised as much. And another such pony who had in the end decided to seek power for its own sake, one who had once been her faithful student, had… The thought was too painful to continue. And Luna stood above them, in her might and Celestia’s mind. How she longed to believe that Nightmare Moon had not been her sister, that it had been nothing more than mere possession! Yet she could not afford to fall into mere hope. Without definitive proof that it was not so, she must see the two as identical. For had Luna not shown her face as her own in the moments before that final, fateful confrontation? A shudder coursed through Celestia’s body, and she felt an old, cold ache in her chest. No physical trace remained of the injury she had suffered, none of her little ponies who had lived for a long, long time had ever seen any evidence that their god could be injured, let alone killed. She suspected, however, that the scar in her Essence would never quite heal, that the attempted act of sororicide had left an eternal mark upon her being, a grim reminder of how close she had been to falling and letting the world fall into the dark. And that was the problem. Luna was an alicorn, a god made flesh, no matter how much she may have been weakened by her imprisonment. And Twilight, her precious Twilight Sparkle, a pony she loved as a daughter, was, despite all her power, mortal. It was a ridiculous gamble, that Twilight Sparkle, a mare who scarcely knew other ponies existed, would find not just five friends but five friends capable of wielding the Elements in a single day. It was the kind of gamble Luna would make, had made, like when she staked her own soul to save that of Spectral Glow the Inquisitive or when she risked everything to bring the Third Pony-Dragon War to a close. It was a plan worthy of the Patron of Travelers and Tricksters, not the kind of slow, cautious (perhaps overly so) deliberation to which Celestia was accustomed. But there was no turning back now. Twilight had been in Ponyville for several hours; things had been set into motion that could no longer be stopped or undone. Celestia’s horn glowed, not that a difference could be seen deep in the heart of the Sun, as she shifted the Sun and Moon into their proper places. “Luna, when it is time for the dawn, wilt thou allow me to again raise the Sun, or wilt thou fight with all of thy power to keep Equestria in darkness?” In just a few more short hours, it would be time for the Sun to again rise, for the nights here in the heart of Summer were oh so fleeting, just as the Sun hid away for most of Winter. In just a few short hours, all of Celestia’s fondest hopes or deepest fears would be realized. She felt helpless as she turned the situation over and over again in her mind, but there was nothing she could do. All she could do was trust in Twilight Sparkle. And trust in Luna.
SistersLuna was walking past the door to Celestia’s private rooms when a muffled noise caught her attention. Her ears perked up and swiveled towards the door as the alicorn paused. Perhaps I imagined it? No, there it was again. Hesitantly, Luna knocked against the door. “Sister?” There was no response, but Luna was certain that Celestia was inside. The lunar alicorn stood there, uncertain of what to do, straining her ears to make sure that they were not playing tricks on her. At least, she was certain. Somepony was crying. Luna bit her lip and tried the doorknob. It was unlocked, but she did not immediately enter. Instead, she called out again. “Sister, I am about to enter thy chambers unless thou tellest me not to.” With no reply forthcoming, she moved inside, closing the door behind her, and made her way to Celestia’s sleeping quarters. At the threshold, Luna again paused, taken aback by the sight that greeted her. The older alicorn was indeed there, but she was curled up on her bed, head buried in her hooves, wings pulled tightly against her body. Her body trembled slightly, wracked by her muffled sobs. Slowly, Luna made her way over to her sister and joined her on the bed, wrapping a wing around her. “‘Tia, what is wrong?” Celestia did not answer immediately. Instead, she weakly tried to break out of Luna’s embrace before suddenly changing her mind and shifting closer against her sister. The two alicorns remained like that for some time, Luna trying her best to softly hum the songs Celestia always did for her when she was in distress. While the younger alicorn was certainly used to providing comfort to her subjects in their dreams, this was a situation she had never expected to find herself in. Celestia had always been the strong one, the one who comforted her when the stress of her duties became too much for her to bear. Finally, Celestia dried her eyes. “Is it my fault?” she asked, still not looking at Luna. “Is what thy fault?” “The war with the gryphons. Is it my fault that they attacked? Could I have prevented the war had I been a more able leader? So many died... Gryphons and ponies alike.” “I do not have the patience for politics, which is why I leave the matter in thy capable hooves. In this matter, however, I can assure thee that the fault is in no way thine.” “How?” Celestia’s gaze finally met Luna’s, her eyes searching and still swimming with tears. Luna sighed and nuzzled her sister. “I know because I was able to see the dreams of King Gregor when he invaded Equestria at the head of his armies. They were full of naught but glory and conquest.” She spat the words out as if they left a foul taste in her mouth. “He desired to expand his empire, and he believed he could do so by force.” She smiled grimly. “He was wrong, of course.” Celestia frowned and looked away. “Still, it is my responsibility to guide our little ponies and keep them safe.” “It is our responsibility, sister. If thou must blame one of us, then why not find fault with me? If the war was indeed caused by flawed diplomacy, then surely I am the one who caused the offense. Gregor and I despised each other from the first we met.” Celestia shook her head. “But I am the one who managed all of our negotiations. The two of you only met two or three times before the war.” Luna closed her eyes. “Could we have negotiated with the draconequi, found some way to end their reign that avoided any bloodshed? Or what of Dakorgon when he desired to rule over ponies and dragons alike?” “I very much doubt that there was any way but war.” “And this was the same. Gregor wanted to continue his conquests, to build further on his legacy as the Unifier of Gryphonkind. Thou once toldest me not to shoulder burdens that are not mine to bear. I believe thou shouldst listen to thine own advice.” “I...” Celestia hesitated. “I’m sorry. Thou art right. I apologize that thou hadst to see me like this.” “There is nothing to apologize for!” Luna shook her head. “I know that our subjects expect thee to be perfect, to be unwavering and to always have all of the answers. They wish for divinity to mean perfection. “And I will admit that I was, for a moment, surprised to see thee in such a state. But that shows the same failing on my part, not any flaw of thine. Please, Celestia, as I have always relied on thee, allow me to help carry some of thy burdens. Allow thyself to remove all of thy masks when we are together.” Luna stopped, but Celestia remained silent, so she continued. “It is like... clouds.” “Clouds?” Celestia shot her sister a puzzled glance. “Indeed! Dost thou remember when we visited Clousdale to examine the new weather device? It pumps water vapor through a series of pipes to produce clouds!” Luna frowned slightly as something else crossed her mind. “It is... slower than traditional methods at the moment, but that is irrelevant, I think. What matters instead is that the faster water vapor runs through the system, the faster the clouds are produced. The device, however, is prone to failure if it is run too quickly. If that happens, then it must be repaired before any more clouds can be produced. On the other hoof, is one is careful and avoids overstressing it, catastrophic failure can be avoided. “In conclusion” – Luna poked her sister in the side – “thou needest a way to slow down from time to time. A space to simply be thyself. And, no, if thou wert planning to hide thy pain from me, then thou art still wearing at least one mask in my presence, no matter how many others thou removest.” Celestia smiled and hugged her sister. “I suppose thou art no longer a little filly. Instead, thou hast grown into a wise and wonderful mare.” “Sister! Thou art embarrassing me!” “I believe that is one of my duties. But, yes, I should rely upon thee more.” Celestia hesitated for a moment. “But dost thou have any duties to which thou must attend tonight?” “‘Tis a quiet night. Nothing should require my immediate attention, as far as I know, and my Rangers can contact me should that change. I am here for thee, ‘Tia.” “...thank thee.” Author's Note The Lunar Rangers are inspired largely (not least in their name) by the organization of the same name featured in some of Cynewulf's work such as Redeem Us in Our Solemn Hour.
Order and Harmony“Your majesty,” Celestia said, dropping into a bow before the tall, dark purple alicorn before her. He regarded her with his eyes, inky pools of unfathomable darkness. Leisurely, he gestured for her to rise and, as if inquiring about the weather, asked, “What is thy report?” “Queen Dawn has fallen.” Her eyes stared into his, searching desperately for a sign. He nodded. “So the citadel has been breached. We suppose it is only a matter of time before the enemy reaches us here.” That was what she had always hated more than anything; he always seemed so unconcerned with the world, though she was never sure if it was an act or if he truly was nearly devoid of emotion. Celestia nodded as the reports came in. It had been a freak accident, a miscommunication between two squads of Fillydelphia’s weather team that had coincided with a storm of non-equine nature blowing in from the sea. The result had been a hurricane. Half of the city was underwater, thirteen ponies were confirmed dead, and dozens more were missing. Such events were rare, but not entirely unknown. The last had been nearly three centuries ago. “Of course, I’ll need to schedule a press conference. Would you mind setting one up for two hours from now? Thank you. Disaster relief will be necessary. How much is currently in our dedicated fund? Two hundred million bits? I doubt that will be enough.” Celestia made a mental note to increase its size. There would be no issue with obtaining the money from elsewhere in the budget, but it would mean less paperwork the next time a disaster of this sort happened. “The treasurer is still in Manehatten, is he not? Good; he should be able to make the necessary arrangements swiftly.” She sent off ten forms, all in duplicate. “Now, before I have to go talk to the press, what else was on the agenda? Do we need to reschedule, or can those of you in the Equestrian Weather Administration and the Equestrian Emergency Response Administration handle things from here? Excellent. So, does anypony have anything they would like to share regarding the public comments on the new railway proposal?” Luna barged into the room, tears glistening in the young alicorn’s eyes. “What dost thou mean, Mommy fell? Is she okay, ‘Tia?” “Luna,” Dusk said, the slightest hint of a frown creeping into his face. “Talk to thy sister with the respect she is due. She is thy elder. And We would imagine that the General meaneth to say that the Queen is dead. Wouldst thou like to confirm?” Celestia looked into her sister’s wide eyes, already overflowing with tears, and hesitated for a moment. Then she looked to her father, face as unreadable as ever. “Yes. Queen Dawn is dead. She died well, though; it took four draconequi and the Traitor himself to kill her. Only he survived.” Luna stared at her sister for a moment before turning and running from the room with a sob. “Let her go. The young often get so emotional over such matters, though she will find her composure in due time. We have actually important things we must discuss, however, and time is growing quite short,” came her father’s voice from behind her as she watched her sister leave. “Princess, it’s time for the press conference.” “Of course, thank you. Well, then, this meeting is adjourned.” The press conference was a simple affair. Celestia confirmed the reports of the latest figures regarding the loss of life and property and discussed the basics of the disaster relief plan. Then, she took questions, most of which centered around how she planned to reduce the risk of another such tragedy. Then the allotted time was up. It had been a simple affair, really, so very much like all the other press conferences she had held. “Thank you. That will be all for now. I would just like to assure everypony once again that this issue is our top priority for the moment.” Then, she walked away, ignoring the last questions the reporters shouted out after her. “May I speak freely, your majesty?” “Very well. What is it?” “Do you even care that your wife is dead and that your youngest daughter is likely curled up on her bed crying uncontrollably, likely muffling her sobs in her pillow with none to comfort her?” “Watch thyself, Celestia,” he growled. Then, almost imperceptibly, his face softened. “Of course I care. Whatever thou thinkest, I was fond of Dawn, and I feel the same toward thee and thy sister. But we have other concerns; such matters are trivial in comparison and we cannot allow petty sentiment to cloud our judgment. Moving the sun alone every day may yet prove to be beyond thee when combined with the demands of war, and Luna certainly cannot yet control the moon, if that even is her destiny.” Celestia stiffened at the implications of that statement. “Father–” Dusk held up a hoof. “Peace, Celestia. My place is here, and I know I will not survive. Thou must take thy sister and flee. The unicorns can move the sun and moon should it prove necessary, though I suspect that Chaos will reign for a time, making the matter moot. Ah, I never told thee? Once, before thy birth, Dawn and I were otherwise engaged, fighting in a previous war between Order and Chaos, and we left the matter in their hooves.” The room shook; Celestia jumped slightly, but Dusk was unmoved. “There are still several ponies from that time; it seems that they were exposed to some energies on the campaign that extended their lives far beyond the limits of most mortals. Still, I think the time of the eldest especially may be drawing to a close. Regardless, they are powerful mages and a stalwart allies. Seek out the unicorns Star Swirl and Clover.” The room shook again. This time, Celestia was prepared and merely nodded, ignoring the signs of impending destruction. “Princess? May I, um, may I ask a question?” Celestia turned to regard her secretary, who had lingered as the last of the Day Court’s business was concluded. “Of course you may, Raven.” “It’s just that, well, with everything today,” the mare fidgeted. “Um, what I mean is...” “You want to know how I stayed so calm in light of the news and even addressed the rest of the royal business for today. You are wondering if I even care about the lives lost today.” It was a statement, not a question, and Celestia kept her voice calm and level. She looked mortified, but slowly nodded. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t wonder. Of course you do and–” Celestia held up a hoof. “You are correct, I do care. I care deeply. Today was hard, but I have had much practice dealing with tragedy over the course of my life. However, we did have other concerns today, and other ponies expect me to be strong, to be in control in a crisis.” She sighed. “Truly, I wish that I could have set aside many of them, but some of what seems trivial actually is important. The new railway could, for instance, could greatly speed the delivery of supplies to the site of a disaster should another one occur. “I… I actually knew two of the ponies who died today. They were former students of mine, yet I cannot grieve publicly, at least not yet. Perhaps at a funeral, but even then I must carefully balance emotion with control.” She looked her in the eyes. “Tell me, what would you think if you saw me break down sobbing?” “I… well…” She broke eye contact and looked at the ground. “Goodnight, Raven Inkwell. Tomorrow, we have to work on scheduling a meeting with the loved ones of the victims. You did well today.” Luna ran back into the throne room. Her eyes were red from crying, but now also wide with panic. “Celly! What’s happening?” This time, Dusk did not bother to correct the informal manner of her speech. Instead, he cast a critical eye at the door, which was beginning to show cracks from the continuing assault. With a flash of magic, he was clad in glorious silver and ebony barding, his spear, Gungnir, floating by his side. “Celestia, take thy sister and go now.” Luna looked at him with a start. “F-father?” “Is there truly nothing else you wish to say?” Celestia asked, her gaze torn between Dusk and the door. “We leave everything to you. Only thou canst defeat Chaos after Our inevitable fall.” “Y-your fall!?” Luna squeaked. The room shuddered again, and Luna clung to Celestia. The door was likely only one solid hit away from breaking. “That is all?” Celestia asked. “Celestia! That is enough! Go!” Dusk shouted, his composure finally shattering. Celestia never knew if it was because she had failed to comply immediately with a direct order or if there was something else that made him snap. She gathered Luna in her magic and, without another word, teleported to safety. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of the door shattering and an alicorn, flanked by draconequi, entering the room. Celestia passed by Luna’s room just as the door opened. Her sister strode out, blinking wearily, floating a cup of coffee beside her, an opossum scampering out after her. “Good evening, Sister. I was just on my way to lower the sun.” “Indeed.” Luna yawned. “Time for me to raise the moon, then.” She absentmindedly stroked the opossum and took a drink, some of the coffee spilling out of her mouth and onto the floor. She sighed and cleaned it up with a flash from her horn. Celestia smiled. “I’m glad you’re my sister.” Luna blinked. “The feeling is, of course, mutual, but what brings about this comment?” Celestia shook her head. “Memories, and a rough day. Without you, well, I’m just afraid I would have ended up too much like them.” Luna gave her sister an uncertain look, but managed a half smile. “Perhaps you can fill me in as we change the day to night?” “Yes, let’s do that. Together.” Author's Note Luna's pet opossum comes from the comics and is named Tiberius. While the comics are not canon to this fic and you do not need any degree of familiarity with them to understand it, that was something from them I found cute and decided to include. Also, AestheticB's The Immortal Game (rated Mature) almost certainly had some influence on at least my conception of alicorns other than Luna and Celestia.
WyrmslayerLuna walked slowly toward the cottage. The scenery was idyllic as always, made even moreso by the splendor of her sister’s daybreak. Mist swirled between the distant peaks and down their slopes, mingling with the forests that covered them under the pink light of dawn. As the wind swept through her mane, she could smell the faint scent of wildflowers and damp earth. She could see the crisp, clean snow on the far away peaks, but there on the Vernal Mount, the resting place of the Lord of Spring, none was to be found despite the year approaching its end. How she wished she could set aside her current business and take in the pristine mountain view, so far away from her troubles, whether they were caused by dragons or blacksmiths! But I have business to which I must attend, no matter how unpleasant it may be. I am a princess and bearer of the Elements of Harmony, not a little foal! I helped lead the liberation of Equestria and sealed Discord away in a prison of flesh turned to stone! This task will be trivial. Sighing, she reached the cottage door. She hesitated, taking one last longing look out across the mountains, before knocking softly. She waited, but no reply came. She waited a moment more before knocking again, more loudly. This time, she did not have to wait long before the door opened, and she came face to face with a wizened old gryphon, or, as Luna reminded herself, a being that looked like a gryphon. He had been alive far too long to be a regular mortal, and she had not finished narrowing down the possible answers to this puzzle. “Ah, Luna, how art thou? Or should I call thee Princess now?” he gazed at the sky. “I would hazard a guess that thou finally defeatedest those of Chaos, alongside thy sister, of course.” Luna shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, we did, Master Dvalinn. Is your husband home? I– We have business We wish to discuss regarding m-Our blade.” “There’s no need to be so formal with me! Thou art royalty, and I am but a humble smith. He is out at the moment, but please come in. I’m sure I can at least offer some initial advice; we did forge it together, after all,” Dvalinn replied, holding the door wide for Luna to enter. “Dost thou have thy sword with thee?” Luna looked at the ground, drawing a circle with her hoof. Inaudibly, she mumbled something. “I’m afraid my hearing isn’t quite what it once was. If thou wantest my help, then thou must speak more loudly.” “We said that, er, what happened is, well, We lost it,” Luna answered, a faint blush rising to her face. Dvalinn clacked his beak. “Thou lostest Nægling?” he asked, an edge creeping into his voice. “Yes, you see–” The gryphon irritably waved a talon in her face. “No, no. No need to explain. I presume it happened during the final battle with Chaos and that everything was all very chaotic and that thou didst thy best. But what of Gungnir?” “We did reclaim our father’s spear, but We must confess that We prefer the sword.” Luna floated a scroll and a large chunk of a lustrous metal out of her saddlebags. “This is lunar silver, for the new blade. We have already infused it with some of Our power, and the scroll containeth the runes We would ask you to etch into it.” Dvalinn sighed. “And when wouldst thou like to have this sword?” “By the solstice, so that We might be at the height of Our power to weave the final enchantments.” “That is not much time.” “We apologize, but Dakorgon is already harrying Equestria’s borders. ‘Twill not be long before war, We fear.” With a grimace of distaste, Luna floated one last item out of her saddlebags. It was a long, dark blue horn, though it seemed to shift in and out of existence, and the space around it seemed distorted. “For payment.” Dvalinn’s eyes widened as he beheld it. “An alicorn horn corrupted by Chaos magic? This must be the only one of its kind to ever exist. Gruesome as it may be, the crafting potentials are… immense. This is suitable payment. Subtle Forge and I will certainly make this new blade for thee.” He scrutinized the scroll. “Though I presume thou wilt have no objections if we add other runes alongside these?” Luna nodded. “I trust your judgment completely in matters of smithing.” As the alicorn departed, Dvalinn shook his head and sighed. I have a soft spot for that filly, or I’m just going soft in my old age. Two weapons for one pony in less than a century? This is unprecedented. All she could feel was the pain. The pain in her head. She was unable to feel anything else. Luna blinked her eyes. She clearly remembered being grabbed by the dragon Dakorgon and him breaking her wings and throwing her away. She had hit the ground hard, she remembered that much. After that, she had passed out. And now she only felt her head. She cursed as she realized that her spine must have broken near the base of her neck. Such an injury was more than survivable for an alicorn such as herself, but it would take time to heal. Luna decided that there was no point in trying to do anything about it at the moment; an injury of this magnitude would likely be beyond her skill to heal alone. While she was unable to move her head, she was still able to look around with her eyes. She seemed to be propped up against something, a rock, she assumed, so she was able to see both forward and up rather well. The sky was filled with storm clouds from which came both lightning and a torrential downpour. Amid the clouds, squadrons of pegasi clashed with dragons while spells from unicorn soldiers on the ground rent the sky. Earth ponies protected them if a dragon crashed to the ground still alive or landed in order to take out the mages who hurled spells against their scales. In the middle of the fight, Luna could make out a single white pony clad in radiant golden barding dueling an enormous red dragon. Even as she watched, however, she saw the dragon, Dakorgon, strike the pony with one of his massive claws, sending Celestia tumbling toward the ground. “Sister!” Luna cried, and reached out with her magic, slowing Celestia’s descent and bringing her to her side. Celestia was bleeding profusely, and her eyes were unfocused. This was bad. Luna quickly stitched up the worst of Celestia’s wounds and summoned her blade to her side as Dakorgon landed with a crash in front of them. He eyed them and let out a deep, thunderous laugh. “Pathetic, absolutely pathetic. This was the best Equestria could offer against me? Die failures, not even worthy of remembrance.” With that, he opened his mouth, eyes closing. Immediately, Luna surrounded herself and her sister in a shield and sent her sword flying toward Dakorgon. Flames beat against her barrier, and she grunted with the strain of maintaining the shield in the face of the inferno that raged against it. Relying solely on memory, Luna guided her sword, which she assumed was now little more than a molten shaft of metal, into Dakorgon’s mouth and drove it upward into his brain with all the force she could muster. Suddenly, the fire ceased and, with an earth-shaking crash, the great Dragon King fell to the side. Luna let down her shield with a sigh as, all around her, she heard ponies let out a cheer of victory and saw the dragons take flight, having lost the desire to continue to prosecute this battle with the death of their king. Whether the war would continue, however, would depend on who seized the empty throne in the coming weeks. “Princesses!” a voice called. “I’ll get you aid!” A few moments later, Luna sighed in relief as she felt the rest of her body, pained though it was and tingling with the unpleasant sensation of medical spells. Seeing Celestia similarly revived, she turned to face a group of drained unicorns. “Thank you,” she said. One of them nodded and gasped out, “Your wounds were severe, and we could only do so much. You’ll need plenty of rest to fully recovery.” Luna nodded and turned to Celestia. “Thou didst well today, Luna,” Celestia said with a smile, leaning in to nuzzle her sister. “I thank thee for saving my life, and all of Equestria.” “I did not do it alone. Thou wast essential, as were all our little ponies. Surely we will both celebrate and grieve this battle for a long time to come.” She let out a sigh and reluctantly looked toward Dakorgon’s body. “I fear that my new blade survived scarcely a year.” Bracing for the worst, she reached out with her magic and pulled her weapon out of his skull. To her shock, aside from the bloody stains that coated it, the blade was untouched. With awe in her voice, Celestia said, “Truly Dvalinn and Subtle Forge outdid themselves this time.” As Luna finished recounting her story, Subtle Forge asked, “Havest thou a name for thy blade yet?” Luna looked at the ancient Earth pony, glanced at the gryphon beside him, and then answered, “Quencher.” Dvalinn let out an incredulous snort. “Quencher? That name seems far too pedestrian for a weapon worthy of legend. I’m afraid the ridiculous naming conventions of mortal ponies may have rubbed off on thee.” He let out a squawk as Subtle Forge gave him a playful punch in the shoulder. Luna muttered, “The name is appropriate. This sword quenched the flames that threatened to engulf, both literally and figuratively, all of Equestria.” Then, solemnly, she continued, “The two of you have done for Us a great service. If there be any boon that We may grant, then simply ask.” Dvalinn and Subtle Forge looked at each other for a moment, before the stallion turned to her with a grin. “As long as thou keepest this one, we have nothing we require.” Luna blushed and simply nodded as the pony and gryphon laughed. Author's Note In case anyone is unfamiliar with the rules surrounding "you" and "thou", "you" used to be used as a respectful, formal pronoun and as the second-person plural whereas "thou" was used to indicate familiarity or to speak to someone of lower social rank.
