Spirit Waker

The morning sun rises upon another day. Its cascading rays bring the only warmth the once-bustling capital of Equestria knows. Despite it being the sun's rays, this heat is cold. Lacking.

Lackluster.

This Equestrian monument once knew what actual warmth was. The sun is only a pale imitation of what true warmth is. No. It's a mockery of what warmth is. The sun would never know what true warmth is. Because there is only one and no others.

Isolated.

There is no love from this lonely blazing sun for it knows not what love really is. It knows only an imitation. It does not know how to truly give love. Anything that does not know how to truly love is disharmonious and an enemy to harmony itself.

Unlovable.

Yet it provides for life along with its sister, the moon. Both are disharmonious with themselves and each other. Despite this, they manage to rule the world with their endless cycle of heat and cold.

Careless.

None knew this more than the ponies that once mingled within the streets of the bustling center of culture and economy. From the early morning shoppers and openers to the late-night partiers and sulkers, there was never a time that the epicenter of all of ponykind rested. And above it all sat the princesses upon their respected thrones. They ruled over their nation and all that believed in them. One of day and one of night.

It was a jewel.

Now it is nothing more than just a husk of what it once was. Picked nearly bare of all the festivities and culture that once took place. Licked cleaned of the once-beloved creatures that cantered and pranced their way to and fro. Polished of the reputation that it once held.

Ravaged.

But all is not lost. Amongst the corpses and shattered homes, some lie in wait for the day they might one day return to their former glory. There are those amongst the wreckage that believe that one day, their princesses will return to them. That once they return, they will usher in a golden age in which none have ever seen before. They'll reunite the tribes and push back the villainous scourge. They'll cast out their armies and give them what they deserve.

Retribution.

The few remaining ponies scattered across the wastelands of Equestria have all clung onto different virtues to lead their groups. Some hold a belief in their strength and believe that only through this can they bring back their homes. They gather like-minded individuals and hone their abilities and strengths. The might makes right principle is drilled into them as they fight off invaders, slavers, and each other.

Warmongers.

Others believe that they simply must continue their way of living and hold onto the hope that everything will be made right again. They believe that this is all only temporary and that within time, everything will be made right. Hope is their virtue and pain is their toll.

Blinded.

And yet there are others. So. Many. Others. They cling onto what they believe and break harmony all the more.

Thus, an endless cycle of disharmony begins anew.

Celestia would sigh at it all if she could. The most she can muster now is but a mere mockery of the once possible physical action. She's had some time to come to terms with this. With her new self. Something incorporeal and unheard by everything that comes near her.

From one of her many throne room windows, she has watched the world unfold before her. She has seen various leaders gather the pony races and regress them from where they first started. She's watched them fight, bicker, and blame each other for things that were out of their control.

And yet at the same time, she has watched them band together to fight the overwhelming odds against them. Their enemies are plenty, but their will in overwhelming. She's proud of them. Even if she can't necessarily feel it anymore.

She's been unable to feel much of anything since the day of change. The sun, her magic, or the touch of another living being. After the first few months, she began to understand the meaning of you never know what you have till it is all gone. Never had she ached for so little so much.

Her one solace is that one day, much like her fallen kingdom, she too will pass. It may not be any time soon. Or perhaps it will be in the midst of another thought sometime soon. She'd never know it till it happened. And it is only one of the few hobbies she's picked up while trapped in the world of the living.

Aside from the downfall, she's been reassessing her goals. Her main goal as of late is to finally fade away into eternal sleep she has been denied. Her second goal is to figure out why such a thing has yet to happen. Of course, the second is much harder to do without being able to interact with the simplest of objects. Her third goal is to try and keep an account of all the creatures that come and go from the former capital itself.

So far she's been keeping a good mental chart of it all.

Even now, far above the streets of Canterlot, Griffons fly overhead. She's not sure what else they mean to find within these ruined lands but apparently, their hunt is far from over. Perhaps a slave had managed to escape somewhere within the confines of their old home in an attempt to find someplace safe and comfortable. A fool's thought.

But a comforting one in a sense.

She's seen many ponies picked up and flown away from families and friends now. Even if another one were to be caught in this instance, she'd only feel a dull ache that would hardly be taken note of. Such is this new world.

She begins to make her trek away from the window, seeing as the latest residents have decided to cut their losses, when a sudden breeze catches her attention. It pulls at her mane and causes it to float like it once had.

This gives her pause. Her mind comes to a screeching halt. A spike, or perhaps a flutter, of emotions.

Never once since she's taken this form has she felt anything like this before. After all, nothing has been able to interact with her. Does this mean that this wind is unnatural? Perhaps magical in origin? Or is there something more? She hadn't seen a Unicorn come into this area in quite some time. She would know. Her mind has yet to fail her where her body has.

Her head turns the way the wind is tugging her. Without so much of a thought, she follows behind the ethereal tug. It plays within her hair and around her body. It almost warms her non-existing body.

The winds lead her through passages littered with bodies and constant reminders of her failure. Not only to herself but to her parents and the ponies she swore to protect. She even sacrificed herself in an attempt to end it all. But at the end of the day, even that wasn't enough. Every option was exhausted and it only proved to be nothing more than a setback or two against the scourge.

The winds bring her to an empty hallway than ends with a dead end. There is no indication of this being different than any of the other hallways and deadends, yet she instantly recognizes this area.

She approaches the dead-end wall with caution. She knows that beyond the faux wall lies her own personal research area of arcane implements, knowledge, and lore. The only way someone could reach this, however, is through her magic alone. Traps lie in wait for those who try to brute force their way into her inner sanctum.

Yet the winds persist she continues. Perhaps they know something she doesn't. She's already dead, what more does she have to lose? Perhaps she can simply walk through her own magic and not incur the wrath she had set for those attempting to do what she plans.

A hoof is the steeple of this test. It passes through the faux wall with ease and allows her passage into the winding steps of her private area. No alarms, traps, or spells are activated as she descends the darkened steps.

They end with an entryway into a wide well lit room filled with benches, tables, notes, scribbles, magic circles, research, and just about anything else she wanted to keep her own. Many diaries winded up here to never be seen again amongst the clutter and disarray. She had once thought of turning the research lab into a storage area with how clunky it had gotten.

Funny. She once thought of trying to organize everything once she had the time. She certainly has it now, but the possibility to clean has once again eluded her. Ironic, is it not?

Though one thing she hadn't considered was the new addition to the room. In the middle of one her, she would happily admit, more impressive circles of summoning stands a form in mid panic.

The creature seems to be figuring out where it is as it frantically looks around. It stops, facing Celestia, and clutches at its slightly protruded chest.

It stands like a minotaur, yet has the build of one of their lesser cousins. It almost reminds her of a certain satyr. The creature is fully clothed with two gangly arms ending with hands that clutch continue to clutch at its breasts. Further up lies the mop of thick hair reaching down to shoulder length. A waterfall of black and shades of blue. Eyes, panicked and wide, are emerald green. Its face is rounded and very cute looking.

The creature, panicked still, shows signs of hyperventilation. Celestia moves closer out of instinct to comfort the creature and quickly remembers her current state. So she simply waits as it seems to stare directly at her. It seems in the midst of deciding whether to keep panicking or flee.

The creature's arms wrap themselves around its body. It seemed to be working its jaw as if figuring out what to say or do. Faint words could be heard but none made out. The two stares in each other's direction a bit more before one of them speaks out.

"H-Hey?"

Celestia looks behind her to see if someone had followed behind her. Seeing no one there, she turns back.

In hindsight, no one should've been able to follow her due to the whole invisible thing. Even more so considering the loads of deadly traps she had placed to ward off her own sister, but here she was being proved wrong once again. The wind, the creature, and then what? It'll turn out she's actually alive?

She watched her own body rot away to know the truth of that one.

"Today is just going to be all about firsts, isn't it?" Celestia breathes out with disdain, "Yes, hello. I'm assuming you're talking to me?"

"I-I'm sorry."

"For what? Are you the one to blame for my current state? You have nothing to be sorry for." Celestia waves a disinterested hoof, "Unless you've come to fix everything. Then I suppose you could be sorry for being so late to act."

The creature replies with silence.

A sigh escapes Celestia's mouth. She'd dwell on this if it wasn't for the fact that the shock value is already wearing thin. Here she was assuming that nothing would ever change in her life, once again, to only experience change in a way she never predicted.

It would seem she hadn't learned her lesson after all.

"W-Where am I?"

"Hm? You're in what used to be Canterlot."

"Canterlot? Did you mean Camelot?"

"No. I do mean Can-ter-lot. I'm not sure what the camels have to do with anything."

"I-I'm just a bit confused is all."

"You seem to be more than just that." Celestia says as she lays down and rests her head upon her hooves, "I can tell a frightened creature when I see it."

"S-sorry."

Celestia lets out a dry chuckle, "You remind me of a certain butter Pegasus. She was friends with my personal student."

"Is that a good thing? I wouldn't want to remind you of someone you don't like."

"No no. She was just a very timid creature. Except for when it came to her animals and nature itself. Her reactions to them always made me think of Twilight when she finds something of interest to study."

Silence reigns once more. Celestia watches as the creature becomes calmer. She, she assumes from the sound of her voice, begins to take deeper breaths. Arms slack, eyes begin to drift around. She's certainly opening up more to the world around her. Nervousness and anxiety are still prevalent.

"So who are you, dear?"

"M-Me? Oh... I'm just a nobody really."

"Everycreature is somecreature. Whether they know what their part in something is or not, is another deal. You might believe that you're a "nobody" but I assure you that you're someone. And that someone must have a name, correct?"

"Milly, ma'am."

"A cute name for an adorable creature. And with manners that are so rare here."

"Th-Thank you. Umm... I'm sorry to ask this but are you?"

Fear no longer seems to be visible among her features. Her arms are at her side, eyes seem to be focused on Celestia alone, and curiosity seems to have overwhelmed her fear to a degree. Despite this, Celestia can clearly see in her motions that she's prepared to flee if she has to. The tension in her muscles and way she seems to be scanning for something.

"A spirit? Dead? I can answer at least one of those. I died some years ago. I'm sure I'm some sort of ethereal being, but I'm not fully sure of what it is. I don't seem to fit any of the notes taken about the ethereal creatures within our realm. So all signs would point to me not being a spirit, wraith, or ghost-like being."

"O-Oh. My condolences."

"That's far behind me. I've been dead long enough to come to terms with myself and my death."

"R-Right."

A pause.

"H-How did you die exactly? Y-You don't have to answer that, of course!"

Celestia notes that Milly is a very active talker. She uses her hands and body to emphasize words. Perhaps something her people do or a mannerism took up when nervous.

"Foolishness. At the end of the day, it was foolishness."

"Do... do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"O-Oh."

Silence. More than a pause or a beat. The two lay and stand in silence. Celestia with her disinterest and Milly with all of hers.

"Um. So how do I get out of here, exactly?" She asks rubbing the back of her head trying to figure out how to get out of this awkwardness.

"The staircase behind me. But I assure you, you won't like what's up there."

"How come?"

"You must come from somewhere very far away if you're not aware of the current situation of the world. Canterlot was the center of the Equestrian nation. It has fallen to the talons, hands, and hooves of our enemies. Now they pillage, destroy, enslave, and rape anything they can out there that moves, breathes, and talks."

"Wh-What! Th-They can't do that! That's evil! Someone should stop them! Where are the troops? Where are the forces of good to make them stop their villainous ways!"

"Gone. I and my sister did everything we could with the help of my student and her friends. I died, my sister was beaten and tortured, and the last I saw of Twilight was her upper portion hung from the wall. Her friends were all enslaved and my captains were used to feed their troops. So they've failed. We've failed. I more so than them."

Shock and disgust fill the face of the creature. She looks away trying her best not to break down at the news given to her. Fear comes back, not in full force, but in mounting panic.

"There... There must be something. There always is. What about all this stuff down here? Couldn't we use it to, I don't know, get away from them? I'm not just going to stay here and die!"

"I suppose you could. I'm not sure what all works, but I can tell you what they do. But where will you go? What do you plan to do? A half-cooked plan is as good as no plan at all."

"I-I'll think of something... There are others out there right? They couldn't have gotten to everyone. I'll just find them and convince them to band together to fight back! Like in the storybooks..."

Celestia snorts in an attempt to prevent her laughter. But it only works a moment before hysteria grabs hold of her. Rage paints itself upon the female's face as she listens to the apparition mock her.

"Y-You! This isn't funny! I'm serious here!"

"Oh, I can tell! That's what makes it funnier! You've only been here for, what, minutes and have already blinded yourself with the thought of granger brought about by a foal's storybook! What part of that couldn't be more hilarious! I guess you expected me to get up and be motivated to help you fight off the villains of my people. But let me tell you something.

"This isn't a story.

"There is no hero to come riding into the rescue. There is no mare waiting to be rescued at the top of the highest tower. There are no fabled creatures of wish-granting powers waiting for you at the top of these stairs.

"From the way you act and talk, you'll be beaten, raped, or enslaved in minutes. A Griffon will look at you and you will cower. You'll hesitate at the sight of blood. You'll fold up and quit before it even begins. Creatures like you are nothing but talk.

"You're better off down here where it is safe. Away from the pain, torment, and death that lies before you."

Silence once more. The female hangs her head as she crouches and curls into herself. Sobs break the silence as she begins her breakdown.

Celestia berates herself for going too far. The first contact with anyone and the first thing she does is shoot her down and break her spirit. She's even gone as far as making her cry.

But the filly is foolish! She wants to save the world without even knowing the world is dangerous! She acts as if she's meant to be some sort of shining light in the dark. She is naive and careless with her actions. She thinks of the end goal first without considering the means to reach it.

Much like her lost Twilight.

Celestia rises and approaches. She mulls the words around her head in order to figure out the best course of action to take with this one. Its been a while since she had to play with someone's emotions and thinking. But this could be the change she's been longing for. Or the change to bring about her end.

Celestia moves behind the balled woman and moves her wings to wrap them around her.

"Shhh... I'm sorry I ah! Ah!!"

As Celestia's wings press themselves against the woman's body, a brilliant light shines from both of them. Celestia feels everything the woman does. She can smell what she smells. For the first time in forever, she felt.

Alive.

"Ahh!!"

The woman screams out in pain and horror. Through the contact of Celestia, she feels only the strongest of emotions she has ever felt throughout her life. The oppressive feeling of loss over her mother and father, the endless fear of Grogar and the Smooze, the unending feeling of hopelessness against Discord, the momentary happiness of her rule, the silent depression over her sister, the repetitious suicidal thoughts, the agonizing pain of fighting, the burning rage of betrayal, the haze of feeling all-powerful.

Darkness overtakes the woman's mind as the light fades away. Despite this, she does not fall from her position. No. She rises unsteadily to her feet.

Her body shakes as she brings her hands to her face. They linger tightening and relaxing as if getting used to the feeling of feeling. Every muscle in her body seems to tense and relax as if figuring out how to work for the first time in ages.

"Ha... Haha... Hahaha. Hahaha! Hahahaha!!"