It Takes A Princess

Chapters

To Break Up A Fight
To Volunteer
To Make A Dynamic Entrance
‘s Failsafe
Or Maybe A Queen
Though Not The One You’re Thinking Of
And Some Forward Planning On Her Sister’s Part

To Break Up A Fight

Tap, scritch, thump, clop.

The sound of Creativa’s mismatched footsteps echoed through the cave. Loud enough to cover her apprehensive breathing, but too quiet to drown her thoughts.

Per usual, Creativa had no idea where this most recent banishment had sent her. She'd known it was dangerous to fire up her magic to boost her troupe’s morale, but they’d all been hiding and sacred in the mountains for so long. Certainly an impromptu rainbow-colored campfire could safely lighten their collective mood. No dice; Order detected it across the world and appeared in their midst immediately. An idle snap of his pale fingers erased the unnatural flame from existence and sent everypony scattering. Creativa counterattacked him of course, calling on every spell she had and igniting like a one-mare whirlwind of anti-matter and entropic hexcasting. Twiddle Spiral, her faithful student, was a practiced veteran at this point, deft enough to untraceably teleport everypony else to safety in mere seconds. This was fortunate, since ‘mere seconds’ was usually all the time Creativa could keep Order occupied. Like so many clashes before, Creativa watched him fend off her most intense attacks before growing annoyed and snapping again. This time she found herself spitting silt as she lay winded from her impact on this cave’s dirty floor.

Tap, scritch, thump, clop.

Creativa was too bruised from her landing to run. Worse, she was afraid to spellcast again. Wherever this place was that Order had dumped her off, it was utterly saturated with so much Harmony magic Creativa could feel it on her tongue. Even if she was able to pick out a precious Chaos-enabled leyline amid all this smothering normal mana, she couldn’t risk incurring Order’s wrath again. Not so soon. He'd been able to track her magic signature all the way in the barren Prancing Peaks, so in here he'd be on her in an instant. The awful truth was that Order was stronger than Creativa. Much stronger. She had her bag of eclectic tricks, but even when they were supercharged by the desperate belief of the hunted ponies she protected, nothing compared to Order’s authority over the Sun, the seas, and even the ground itself.

Creativa’s informal rebellion was hanging by a thread. She reckoned the only reason Order hadn’t atomized her loyalists already was because he was too anal to dispose of reclaimable horsepower. Creativa had swayed them to her cause with extreme difficulty, and Order was winning large chunks of the defectors back by simply humiliating her whenever she conjured anything chaotic. The two of them had been feuding for years, and in that time Creativa could count on one pseudo-claw the number of sentences Order had bothered speaking to her. Quantity didn't matter though; each dismissive comment cut deep. Certainly more deep than any of her own wild extravagant efforts to weaken and dethrone him anyway.

“Eventually, they will all see the weary mortal mare under all that patchwork regalia.”

“Spread your fingerpaint for your fans so my tides may wash your work away in front of them.”

“Your colors are clashing less and less nowadays.”

Creativa loosed a double harmonic whinny of sad frustration and bucked the cave wall impotently. There was sunlight up ahead. An exit to open ground. But realistically, what was waiting for her out there? Endless fields of uniform grass that grew in perfect unison. Perpetually temperate weather that resisted all her attempts to add either storm or shine. And (most painful of all) pockets of browbeaten, passionless ponies. Creativa had seen so many in her time, mulling around the sterile boxy houses provided to them by their monster king. This world belonged to Order. A single alicorn, even an expert Chaos mage like Creativa, couldn’t change that. Faust knew she’d been trying all her life.

And yet, despite the differing aches in both her heart and legs, the motley leader of the naysayers continued limping toward the cave exit. She trusted Twiddle Spiral to keep everypony together until she found them again. Besides, giving up wouldn’t be what Loopa would’ve wanted.

In the dark of the cave, Creativa could almost imagine Loopa still with her. She would yipp at Creativa’s heels like she always did whenever she got excited, demanding Creativa drop the “sad clown” act. Then she'd bellow out loud how Order had power over their world, not their attitudes. Creativa closed her eyes and shook her tri-horned head, trying to clear the doubt away. Loopa was long gone, but it’d be a snow day in the Kalahorsey Desert before Creativa disrespected her little sister’s memory by losing hope.

Hmm… a blizzard in the Kalahorsey might actually be a good idea. A strong, symbolic sign that Order’s grip on that region wasn't ironclad. Creativa made a mental note to try conjuring one of those when she and her followers were inevitably forced to retreat to that area of the world. The anticipation was enough to managed a melancholy smile.

“I’ll make him pay for what he did to you, Loopa. I promise. No matter how many times I get knocked dow-”

Harmony had a knack for answering Creativa whenever she tempted fate. This time it surprised her with a sudden drop off that sent the hapless harlequin skidding down a sand-coated downward slope towards the exit. Creativa reflexively flared her mismatched wings to catch some drag. Enough to avoid toppling, but not enough to avoid splashing down into the ocean after plummeting out of the tide-carved cave’s elevated opening.

Creativa thrashed disgracefully in the water, blinded by salt and daylight as she kicked towards the surface. The propulsion from her webbed hind overtook her hooved one, skewing her trajectory and forcing her to paddle wildly until her forelimbs helped course correct. Then she broke the surface for a gasp air before yet another wave crashed over her. A less panicked, less drowning Creativa would’ve been overjoyed to find a chilly body of water producing tides and waves. After all, most of the oceans under Order’s control stayed tepid and motionless at all times. Right now that sort of abstract moralizing was muted by a hysteric drive for survival. She floundered and licked like a helpess dissenter in Order's unforgiving grip until finally, laboriously, her heaving belly scraped the beach shore.

Her sinuses burned from snorting in seawater. Creativa chuffed weakly and lowered her eyes so the sun wasn't shining into them. Then she choked back a bray of alarm. Through the black curtain of her dripping mane, the refugee Alicorn of Chaos saw her new beach was already occupied.

Kneeling on a picnic blanket and between two lawn chairs was a tall white pony with swan wings. She had a massive sun hat and expesie-looking Bray Ban sunglasses, past both of which she stared dumbfounded at the stranger washed up on shore. The swan pony looked about the same age as Creativa. Same height and weight too. In fact, as the doppelganger levitated her sunhat off and held it up to give Creativa some shade, it revealed two more details about itself that made bile rise in Creativa’s parched throat: First was that it was indeed an alicorn. The second was that her cascading mane and tail were perfect matches for Order’s. Before Creativa was nightmarish distortion of herself, and it even spoke in a copy of her own voice: “My word, what’s your circumstance?”

Full of fury, Creativa sprang to her feet and began blasting wildly.

“Stop it!” she roared as her horns and antler ricocheted bolts in every direction. “Stop it, Order! Stop taunting me!”

It was too much. He had taken her sister away. He had humiliated her over and over in front of a dwindling troupe of fellow freedom fighters. And he'd dumped her here, castaway on an unknown beach so thick with Harmony magic it was hard to breathe. All to be finished off by this terrible construct of herself modeled in his own image. Creativa had been pushed too far. She was reduced to a mad dog. A flailing spastic creature with nothing left but bluster.

Order’s assassin was stumbling backwards, so Creativa frantically fired everything she had at it. The doppelganger tanked Creativa’s cocktail of unfocused beams, barely being knocked to its knees. It was certainly strong, but Creativa was used to being outmatched. She had been prey all her life, and everypony knew how that old saying went about cornered rats.

Espying magic, Creativa tackled her enemy and pinned it to the sand. Doing so caused its Bray Ban sunglasses to dislodge. Even through the doppelganger’s painful squinting, Creativa could see purple irises, same as Order’s. Her inner fire wavered for a moment, buffeted by a breeze of numbing realization that after a lifetime of struggle, she’d finally gotten the upper hoof. For once, she was the one holding dominion over a stunned opponent. And in her split second of dissociative doubt, an indignantly thrown juice box soared at Creativa from the left to thwap her sensitive nose.

“What in Tartarus have I come back to? Move off my sister, you gaudy oaf!”

Loopa’s voice.

Creativa’s courage vanished as quickly as it'd flared up. She barely managed a moan in defeat, sliding limply off her doppelganger to curl up pitifully in the wet sand. Loopa’s doppelganger approached, reduced to a blurry smear through the tears beginning to flow thick and fast. Creativa was finished. She couldn’t duel an echo of her sister. Her weak heart wouldn’t let her. This was going to be where her crusade ended: Not in a pitched battle with Order himself, but struck down by the specter of the pony whose memory she’d fought so hard for. Creativa didn’t even care enough to look up as she waited for the end.

“Did she harm you?”

“I don’t think she even can. She looks the part of Discord, but seems to spellcast on the exact same biorhythm as me.”

“What in Tartarus is she?”

“Afraid. Which is all we should care about right now.”

Creativa didn’t understand. Order never wasted time when dealing with annoyances. Why weren’t his proxies ending her already? She didn’t understand why her clone was draping the repurposed picnic blanket over her. She didn’t understand why Loopa’s clone was pressing a dented but mercifully cool juice box to her forehead.

She just didn’t understand.

To Volunteer

“It’s warm,” complained dark Loopa. Or no wait, Luna, Creativa reminded herself. Luna was the pony taking disgusted sips from her juice-box-turned-cooling-rag-turned-back-to-juice-box and lamenting how her drink has lost its chill during the cleanup of the extremely confused brawl.

“I apologize,” Creativa whispered meekly. She’d calmed down enough to undrape the picnic blanket from her shoulders and lie down on it, but nausea kept her from standing. For now, she had her wings fanned to catch some warm, soothing sunlight. Meanwhile, the two pseudo strangers reclined in their chairs and continued chatting. It was like an inverted duplicate of one of them sloshing out of the ocean and attacking on sight didn’t even crack the top ten weirdest things that had happened to them. And if they were as longed lived as Creativa herself was, she wondered if that was the case.

“Oh hush,” the white one was saying. “Both of you. An eight ounce drink is not worth pouting nor apologizing over.”

“That’s your opinion,” Luna huffed. “I’ll pout as I like.”

Creativa hadn’t decided which was more surreal: hearing a stranger speak in Loopa’s voice, or hearing another stranger answer in her own. She certainly felt a pang every time Luna aired even the most basic of throwaway comments, especially because Loopa herself had been such a filterless chatterbox. And yet every time the other one (Creativa felt privately guilty she’d already forgotten her own counterpart’s name), every time she spoke, Creativa could feel herself drawing further inwards out of self-pity. The white one had a warm, thoughtful timbre that could have only come from many years of peace and authority. Those were luxuries Creativa had never known. Still… what was it that Order had once called her? “A weary mortal mare under all that regalia"? Creativa regarded the aged lines under her counterpart’s kindly eyes . Perhaps some things were universal.

Or perhaps ‘multiversal’ was the more accurate term, if the three of them had things figured out correctly.

“It hardly makes sense,” Luna complained as she absently dug her hooves in the sand. “Granted, I could imagine Discord flinging either Celestia or I into the lap of our next-door selves simply for his own anarchic amusement. But a Harmonic Discord doing the same? To a Chaotic Celestia? Less sensible. You said yourself that your version of him care nothing for roundabout theatrics.”

Celestia! That was the other one’s name. Try not to forget it again, you utter dunce. Celestia, Celestia, Celes- Creativa’s thoughts were interrupted by Luna once again flinging the juice box to get her attention. It halted inches from Creativa’s startled face, suspended by a gold aura.

Celestia shook her disapproving head. Then the empty carton dropped to the sand.

“Be kind,” she chastised before addressing Creativa directly. “You’ve had a bad day. That much is obvious.” Creativa nodded, tracing a pseudo-hoof on the pattern of the picnic blanket. “Well then, for what it’s worth, you have my sympathy, Princess… um…” Celestia’s white cheeks were tinting pink with embarrassment.

“Creativa,” Luna supplied. Her tone was less earnestly helpful and more scoffing at her older sister’s shortcomings.

“Princess Creativa,” Celestia hastily finished. “Apologies. When it comes to names, I’m an utter dunce.”

To the retired Sun Princess’s relief, her counterpart managed to smile.

“It’s quite alright," Creativa mumbled. "Not sure what put it in your head that I’m royalty, though. I’ve never touched a crown in my life.”

“No?” Luna recalimed her juice box and leaned forward incredulously. “Then what of my counterpart? I do have one, don’t I? What role does sheplay in your struggle? A significant one, I should hope.”

Creativa sighed mournfully. “I’m ashamed to tell you my sister is dead.”

Luna grunted with dissatisfaction. Celestia bowed respectfully. Creativa kept talking.

“Order has ruled for eons, and even if he let anyone record history, I doubt there’d be many stories of ponies who challenged him for the throne. None that would need more than a few words to tell. He has ways to make lesser creatures behave. He… he’ll touch a finger to your forehead…”

“And the victim will go grey.” Celestia finished quietly. “Robbed of their best qualities and reduced to someone barely recognizable. Is that what happened to Lu… Lun… Oh for Faust’s sake…”

Luna rolled her eyes, but didn't supply the forgotten name. A straw busied her sipping mouth.

“Loopa," Creativa continued. "No. I mean, Order tried to grey her. Once. But Loopa...” Creativa grinned sadly despite her wobbling voice. “She, heh heh, she fought it off. Can you even imagine? I’m certain that before you put your version of Order in the dirt where he belonged, he greyed a fair number of your own ponies, didn’t he?”

“Only six of them,” Celestia replied coolly.

“Then you've must have seen that even though the grey spell is reversible, the victim never snaps out of it on their own. Loopa did though. The only time I’ve ever seen Order lose composure was when he laid both hands on Loopa and nothing happened. Other than her blowing him across the room with a bolt to the chest. I don’t know why, but Loopa was somehow greyproof. And Order must not have known either, because he-” Creativa’s voice cracked and she winced in embarrassment.

“He dealt with her,” Celestia guessed. “Permanently.”

“He did. I’d of course heard of his Elements Of Harmony from the ponies I’d freed. But until Loopa resisted getting greyed, I’d never actually seen Order use them. It happened so fast, just like everything does when he attacks. So mindlessly efficient. I remember him reeling from Loopa's bolt, and then suddenly he was coiled and ready, with six gems appearing around him and then they fired and then Loopa didn’t even have time to scream and… and then she was a statue.”

Creativa had scrunched her eyes shut, but she was dimly aware of movement nearby. A massive, swanlike wing was gracing her shoulder. The touch of its soft feathers comforted her. Just a little bit.

“I fled. And Order let me go, though I don’t know the reason. Ever since that day I've been ramping up my efforts, gathering as many ponies as I can. I keep them colorful, I tell stories, and I always keep us on the move. Sometimes we try to settle down. Far away from Order’s kingdom where we can have nurture Chaos in peace. But it never works.” Creativa shivered, remembering the ambush on the Prancing Peaks. “Ever. Order is wherever he chooses to be.”

“I never Imagined I would sympathize so much with Chaos,” Luna murmured. “Nor would I have imagined that Harmony could be twisted to such domineering ends.”

Still sitting with her wing wrapped around her dimensional twin, Celestia exhaled slowly. Luna met her wistful gaze with an impatient one.

If they gave Creativa hope now, there would be no going back. The Royal Sisters had hung up their crowns, retired to a comfy beachouse, and certainly weren’t the toughies they used to be. But the hard truth was that old, heroic habits were hard to kick.

“Creativa,” Celestia said slowly and with as much determination as she could, “Your sister, she... that is, I believe that-“

“Loopa is suspended, not dead.”

Celestia shot Luna a dirty look. It was ignored.

“It’s not fair if Celestia meets her dimensional sister and I do not." Luna crumpled her emptied juice box and stomped on it with finality. "Therefore, you and I are going back to wherever it is you originated. And it shall be I who helps you free her.”

Author's Note

Next chapter: A call to adventure in an Orderly World.

And also, Twiddle Spiral.

To Make A Dynamic Entrance

Stillness and silence. That was what always remained while Creativa was away.

Twiddle Spiral hated stillness and silence.

It was like turning off a shower on a hot day. Or throwing off a blanket on a cold one. The environmental effects of Creativa’s absence always began immediately, and they only got more noticeable as the hours or sometimes even weeks went by. Not that showers or blankets were necessary when she wasn’t around. The weather stayed calm and the air got tepid. All surroundings lapsed to their median without Creativa’s energetic magic. Even now, her leaderless herd slept unsheltered under the pale stars. And tomorrow they’d all wake up without a drop of dew or speck of dirt marring any of their coats.

It gave Twiddle Spiral fits, spending every moment coddled and sterilized.

Twiddle rolled over to mush her face into the uniform, unscented grass. Not bothering to get up, she tore out a mouthful and watched achingly as the patch she'd bitten filled itself in, correcting the disturbance and erasing any sign of grazing. Twiddle wasn’t hungry and the grass was tasteless anyway, so she spat the trimmings in defiant disgust. They vanished before hitting the ground.

Twiddle rolled back over and stared through motionless clouds at the constellations beyond. She could identify every one of them, since they were static year-round. Plus, she used to be a librarian whose job it was to know such things. She hoped to someday be a librarian again. On her own terms, though, not on Order's. Never on Order's.

Twiddle Sparkle owed Creativa and Loopa a lot. That was an understatement; she owed Creativa and Loopa everything. Twiddle had been Twiddle her whole life, but she hadn't truly been herself, not whole and alive, until those two forces of nature arrived like a whirlwind to her nameless town. Her first lucid memory was of them galloping through the streets and the ground floor rooms of every building, trailing auras that brought color and animation to everything.

Order appeared immediately of course, intercepting Creativa in the lobby of the library where Twiddle worked. She'd regarded them both in what Creativa later taught her was "awe." That feelign was then replaced by fear once Order snorted in disgust and lunged. Wit one claw, he pinned the Alicorn Of Chaos to the floor. With the other he snapped his horrible fingers and greyness seeped back into the world. And as Twiddle Spiral felt the new life snuff out of her home, as she witnessed the tips of her freshly periwinkle hooves returning to muted slate, and as she sensed the emotions she'd barely begun to treasure start leeching away, the librarian did something she'd never even been able to do before:

She screamed and ran.

Symbolically, Twiddle been running ever since. Even lying on this hillside, surrounded by fellow ponies she’d helped free over the years, she knew they were all running together. After fleeing the library on that momentous day, Twiddle only got as far as the end of the block. By then she was fully grey again, out of energy and uncertain why she'd left her assigned spot in the first place. And then she, the pony who would become Creativa's Faithful Student, turned listlessly around just in time to see her house explode. Gone was the tree and the library within, engulfed by a neutron blast of pastel seismics and rainbow fallout from Creativa unloading her entire Chaos capabilities inside an enclosed space.

The eruption had been devastating. Cataclysmic. The most incredible thing Twiddle Spiral had witnessed. It didn't matter that Order, still standing in the blast’s epicenter, reversed the damage with another snap. Nor did it matter that Creativa flapped her mismatched wings and joined with her sister in a retreat so fast and far that another, slightly smaller Sonic Rainboom covered their escape. Absolutely none of it mattered because Twiddle Spiral was reborn the moment that initial shockwave knocked the breath from her chest. No way in Tartarus would she allow herself to go grey again.

And so Twiddle had begun running once more, not just away from Order also towards those two shooting stars who'd given her a soul. It took a day and a half of sprinting to catch up, whereupon Twiddle collapsed to grovel at their pseudo-hooves and beg to help bring colors to the world. Which of course she did for several successful raids until that horrible day Order got his claws on Loopa and-

"Hey Twiddle?"

"Ack!"

Twiddle Spiral sat upright, forehooves primed to spellcast until she saw the foal who'd addressed her.

"Oh. H-hey Skits. You can't sleep either, huh?"

Skitteloo wordlessly plopped down nearby and Twiddle draped her tail over her junior companion like a blanket. The filly always liked it when somepony did that. The two of them laid their heads on each others' respective shoulders and watched the unmoving sky for a few minutes.

"I miss Creativa."

"Me too Skits. But she'll be back. She always finds us again."

"Things feel different when she's gone and I'm not grey. Bad different. I feel scared and tired all the time."

"I know Skits. So do I."

Twiddle's tail was a sensitive thing, and it could feel Skitteloo's undersized wings quivering underneath it.

"Twi...iddle...?" Skitteloo was choking on either shame or fear. Probably both. "I've been thinking... maybe I don't think I want to run with you guys anym-"

"H-hey squirt," Twiddle interrupted hastily, "Do you want to... see me do the thing I can do?" Twiddle flashed a smile that felt terribly unconvincing, but to her relief Skitteloo's face was less pained and her wings had stopped shaking.

"Is... is it safe to do without Creativa around?"

Nope.

"Sure is, squirt. I'm her F-Faithful Student, remember."

"And there's no way it'll make Order appear?"

There was a very real hazard it would make Order appear.

"Absolutely not. You have my promise."

Twiddle Spiral fought hard to not cry when Skitteloo finally managed a thin smile.

"Okay. I get to help, right?"

"Of course."

Twiddle rolled over onto her stomach and put her forelimbs out. Skitteloo did the same, making a perfect ring of joined hooves as they faced each other.

"Alrighty, Skits. Pick a spot in the grass to focus on. It doesn't matter where."

Chewing nervously on her own mane (impressive, given her pixie cut), Skitteloo stared hard at the featureless ground between. So hard her normally orange face darkened slightly from exertion. Twiddle meanwhile breathed softly and relaxed, ignoring the quiet snores of the ponies around them. Just as Creativa taught her, she quieted her mind, inviting in to any nearby traces of Chaos magic. The foothills of the Prancing Peaks weren't completely devoid of the energy Twiddle needed, but pickings were slim and an Earth Pony like herself had to be completely and utterly open to ambient forces if she wanted to spellcast.

Just when Twiddle was starting to worry they wouldn't have enough juice, Skitteloo gasped at a tiny prismatic disturbance glowing faintly in the dirt.

C'mon. Grow. For Skitteloo's sake.

The nugget of matter obeyed, drawing itself up and flashing like strobe light. Then all at once it solidified. What remained was a squat, textureless cube no bigger than a pony's nose. Skitteloo's eyes were huge, fixed on Twiddle's triumphant creation. Twiddle meanwhile released her junior herdmate's hooves to sit up and peer around alertly. Seeing nothing, she sighed in relief. Order never wasted any time ambushing Creativa whenever she broke his rules and used Chaos magic. But Twiddle wasn't Creativa, and it seemed she hadn’t tripped any alarm. Relaxed at last, she looked back down to see Skitteloo hadn't moved. She seemed almost unable to believe the sugarcube they'd conjured together was actually real.

"S'all yours, Skits."

"Really?!"

"Shhh. If you keep your whinnies down, sure. But if you wake anypony else, you'll have to share with them."

Skitteloo snatched the treat and held it to her chest like treasure. It somewhat was, since Order never manifested anything for the ponies to eat other than grass. Twiddle was stunned when Skits tore the priceless prize in half and offered her a piece.

"Uh... thanks very much squirt," Twiddle managed to mumble as she ate out of Skitteloo's hoof. It was so good. And so sweet. Twiddle couldn't help swallowing the entire snack without chewing. Then she mentally kicked herself for being so impatient. One day, if their tiny rebellion was successful, everypony would have all the real, satisfying food they could eat. But for now, Twiddle had exhausted her one time treat and was back to having nothing.

Skitteloo had draped Twiddle's tail over herself again, but her mood seemed relaxed instead of anxious. The constellations above still hadn't changed (and never would at the pace the rebellion was going), yett something else about the sky noticeably had shifted. Skitteloo wasn't intellectual company, but Twiddle still felt like sharing a theory she'd been brewing. Faust alone knew when she'd have another quiet moment and an open ear like she had right now.

"Hey Skits."

"Mmph?" Skitteloo's mouth was too stuffed with her half of the sugarcube to produce a better reply.

"You ever notice how the sun and moon are always moving across the sky?"

Skitteloo shrugged.

"Well even if you haven't, I have. And I've been wondering about it. How come Order still lets the sun and moon change when he doesn't let that happen to anything else? Not the seasons, not the weather, and definitely not the constellations, so why the sun and moon? I mean, he's literally got an emblem of the sun on his tushie. He could probably stop that one's movement if he wanted, so why doesn't her freeze it in place like everything else?”

Twiddle wasn't even really addressing Skitteloo at this point. She was talking to the world itself because her thoughts had been cooking for far too long. They needed aired or they'd burst her from the inside.

"I think I know what makes them special. The sun he can totally control. But the moon... I keep thinking about that one time he cornered us on that island. That time Creativa conjured a giant carbonated tsunami that actually managed to knock him over. If he controlled the tides, there's no way she would've been able to do that. Or what about that other time we got lost in the woods and Creativa called up a full moon help us find our way out. Order chased us all away, but that big shiny rock stayed full. He controls a lot. But he doesn't control everything." Twiddle's passion was dampening her eyes, so she paused to wipe them. And as she did, she became aware of Skitteloo's soft snoring.

Rolling her shoulders, Twiddle Spiral tucked her limbs under her barrel and laid her chin in the grass. She'd said her piece. It didn't matter that no one heard. She'd still said it and no one could turn back time to make it so she hadn't. Twiddle closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, secure in her moon theory as well as the knowledge Creativa would be back sooner or later.

It turned out to be sooner.

A ear-rending psychic whip crack created a split in the fabric of reality less than a meter away from where Twiddle and her small herd had been resting. Then an energetic Alicorn tumbled through the rift.

“Stars and garters!" Princess Luna exalted in rapturous glee. "Let no one disagree with the declaration that I am the most talented teleporter in all the multiverse!"

One nearby unicorn - a thin, wiry colt who was barely more than a yearling - yelped in alarm at the massive stranger with powerful lungs. The rest of the herd, thoroughly awake by now, were too stunned to contribute anything themselves. Luna noticed one periwinkle mare glowering up at her defiantly. Her features were more motley than her obvious counterpart and although she lacked wings and horn, her bookish face was unmistakable.

"Ha-HA! The dimensional twin of Twilight Sparkle! Charmed." The Princess Of Night bowed giddily in greeting.

Twiddle Spiral cleared her throat to demand that the stranger state their intentions. She was interrupted by the same rip in reality opening one more time so Creativa could trudge out.

"-pulse of Chaos magic we picked up leads right here," Creativa finished an unknown thought breathlessly. Then she locked eyes with Twiddle and cracked a weary smile. "No doubt that Chaos magic signal we picked up came from you, my Faithful Student. Well done. I knew you'd keep everyone safe."

The loyal troupe stampeded to Creativa's side, braying with relief and celebration. Luna was in the air above the hubbub, her beating wings having saved her from being trampled. Being ignored was frustrating, but at least it had obvious cause. From Creativa to her ponies, a Chaos magic was shared. But a strangely positive kind, like the sudden dip of a painted brush in a water bowl. Neither the muddiness of the resulting mixture nor the clashing colors of its spreading tendrils much mattered. Only the fact they were here, flavorful and eager to be expressed. It was actually a bit dizzying for a Harmony user like Luna, so she had to land.

"Settle down, my little ponies," Creativa gently commanded. Then she nodded to her descending companion. "I know you're all excited, but we have a guest with us and she's here to aid our struggle."

The small herd regarded Luna. Murmurs were flavored by curiosity, caution, and hope. Twilight's double was frowning cryptically at Luna's cutie mark. The Moon Mare spoke the first thing that came to her mind.

"Truth be told, I expected more than a baker's dozen of you."

The ten or so ponies who were present shifted uncomfortably. Luna felt her face grow hot, but fortunately Creativa came to her rescue.

"This is Luna, everyone. Princess Luna, I might add. I trust she looks familiar to those of you who’ve been with us the longest.”

Twilight's double nodded, then gave a reassuring pat to the Scootaloo lookalike clinging to her leg.

"Yes," Luna confirmed. "I've heard tell of one... 'Loopa' who is a kindred spirit of mine. I assure you all I am here to help rescue her." She ignored the incredulous mutterings and pushed forward with her impromptu address. "I have also heard tell of a particularly boorish draconequus making a rascal of himself. I daresay he needs taught a rough lesson."

For the first time since she arrived, Luna saw Twilight's double crack a genuine, open-mouthed grin. Not even her own Twilight had ever given her such a look of confidence.

"Right then," Luna boomed in her best Royal Canterlot Voice. "I once waited 1000 years for a fight with a sun mage. Let’s begin this duel with a bit more promptness, shall we?"

Luna fired a signal flare from her horn, deaf to Creativa's panicked protests to stop.

Author's Note

At last, some much needed world building for this wonky AU where Harmony ain’t all its cracked up to be.

Next Week: Order vs Luna. Place your bets.

‘s Failsafe

Luna stood attentively as Creativa chewed her out, but that wasn’t saying much because she couldn’t hear a word of it. Not over the ringing in her ears. The signal flare had been much louder than planned.

Still, despite her temporary deafness and Creativa’s furious muted stamping as wild, paranoid glances around for any sign of Order intruding on them, Luna felt giddy. The blast had been more than a challenge. It was also a litmus test. This world was stuffed to the gills with Harmony magic, and just as expected it supercharged even her laziest spellcasting.

Creativa's eyes suddenly widened at something behind Luna and she barked an inaudible order at Twilight Sparkle's double. The latter sprang to her hinds, shepherding the other ponies into a fearful looking cluster. Her bipedal balance was poor (definitely outclassed by one Lyra Heartstrings whom Luna knew), but the reason Other Twilight had forced herself upright was obvious: She was free to knock her front hooves together like flint tips, wrapping them in an unmistakable patchwork glow. Chaos mana. Hoof channeling was an inspired technique for an Earth Pony.

Creativa grabbed Luna by the collar and made either a frantic demand or an angry question. Luna wasn't sure which, and just as she opened her mouth to admit she didn't have a clue what was just said, her ears popped. She heard the little Scootaloo pegasus scream in mortal panic before the very atmosphere was vacuumed out of the area.

Luna gasped in reverse as her lungs emptied of air. The hillside had become a suffocating timeless expanse. Itw as like being banished to the moon all over again. Color leeched from the surroundings and Luna dimly felt her consciousness departing.

Then little Other Twilight slammed her glowing hooves together. The resulting PLOCK carried a wisp of unshakable pony soul. And in a sterile wasteland, a wisp had as much force as a hurricane. Luna regained her senses just in time to Creativa's horns charging up.

"Get down! He's here!!"

The Princess Of The Night ducked and rolled, affronted at being barked at like a common guardpony. Then she caught a glimpse of the tall, immaculately groomed white figure engulfed by Creativa's maelstrom of attacks. The figure stood tall, unbowed by the onslaught it was enduring. Then its padded paw extended to clamp Luna's throat, twisting hard and pinning her to the ground.

Creativa was screaming at Twiddle Spiral to teleport away. The Faithful Student helplessly rapped her hooves together, reserves empty after conjuring their previous blast. Luna squirmed helpessly, gaze locked with two narrowed violet eyes unblinking despite being under continued magic barrage. Creativa roared with desperate effort, intensifying her firepower until the white figure's free hand sharply snapped its fingers again.

Everything stopped.

Creativa's attack snuffed out like a match. She and Twiddle Spiral hit the ground like steel wool on a magnet. So did the other dozen ponies around. A few were whimpering, Most were scared silent.

The hillside was deathly still under the continued glow of the overhead moon. Then came the voice of the towering and fully visible draconequus. He droned quietly but with a white-hot harshness:

"End of the line, Creativa. Your delivery is complete and your usefulness is void."

Delivery? Luna's eyes snapped to Creativa, but any suspicion of betrayal vanished immediately. Creativa's face was contorted into helpless defiant hate. She was either unwilling or unable to respond to being belittled, but Luna was never one to hold her tongue.

"Move off me, you gaudy oaf!"

Order's eyes flickered to Luna and she tensed with eagerness. Gloat, she willed. Her head was still pinned in place, but her horn was overcharged. Enough for a point blank killshot if he bent down to address her.

He didn't. Dismissive, Order returned attention to Creativa.

"I've been more than fair with with you, Alicorn of Chaos. I let you roam free if you keep to yourself. But you don't. You lead ponies astray. I would not punish them if they came home. I only punish you."

"And Loopa," Creativa spat. "Or did you forget about her so soon/"

Something resembling regret passed over Order's flawless features, but in an instant it was gone.

"This is why I never mince words with you: Reason is lost on the ignorant. I always undo your works, I always spare you so you might repent, yet you never learn. Your lesser, she was beyond reason. You, I once had hope for. But I no longer do. And truly save my little ponies, I cannot destroy you by force. I must persuade you to give up on your own. And now I have the means to do so."

Order snapped his fingers again. He was answered by the mechanical trudge of hooves on grass. Luna's head remained titled at its useless angle, but she saw enough to boil her blood and nearly let slip her mask of helplessness.

Twiddle Spiral was on all fours again, grey from the neck down. Puppeteered steps carried her towards the Tyrant of Harmony. He halted her in front of him, ears flat and fearful , but head unbowed. Twiddle Spiral glared impotently at Order, helpless but brave. Brave for Creativa.

"You," he addressed, "are the most entrenched. The least inclined to return to your place. You consider yourself a student, and so will be tested in front of your teacher."

If Twiddle had any control over her knees, they would have begun shaking.

"Justify your doubt in me," Order commanded. "There is nowhere in this world I cannot go. No force of nature that a snap of my fingers can't command. And no foreign invader I can't humble." He made a show of adjusting his grip on Luna's neck, and she tensed to keep cool. Her tingling horn was very nearly pointed at his exposed chest.

"All I have ever done is worked to keep you safe, my little pony. I've silenced every storms and erased each predator. No words are said without my knowledge, no entity moves without my allowanc-"

“LIAR!”

Twiddle's accusation echoed over the landscape, a throaty, raw word of dissent in a world bludgeoned silent.

"Liar," she repeated hysterically. "Fraud. Deceiver."

Twiddle Spiral hadn't been a librarian for the past ten years. She hadn't touched a book in nearly fifteen. Her words had decayed into very dull daggers after all this time, but by The Pantheon she would stab them at her lifelong tormentor with all the feeble linguistic strength she still had.

"You could grey the rest of me if you wanted. Me and all the other mortal ponies. You could freeze Creativa and Luna and sit on your throne and tell yourself you won, but you won't!"

Twiddle was shouting like a mare possessed. Order's expression remained unreadable.

"I know you won't! Creativa is stronger than you'll ever be because she doesn't need to control ponies. We follow her because she's not a foalish control freak who throws a fit when his toys move on their own. And I'm... I'm not just talking about us living creatures. Heh heh heh. No, there's something else that you can't control even with all your magic. You think nopony noticed it, but I... I..."

Twiddle Spiral lapsed into a coughing fit, her hagagrd breathing sucking some spit down the wrong pip. Unable to move her body, Twiddle blinked rapidly and wheeze for air. A strand of drool hung from her lower lip, detaching to hit the grass and vanish without leaving a lasting disturbance. All the while a paralyzed Creativa witnessed her adopted daughter choke. Luna tail twitched with renewed contempt while Order waited patiently. Twiddle's hacking coughs settled into shallow breaths. Then came his retort.

"All your pain is self-inflicted my little pony. Fear, doubt... I wish to spare you from those. But you don't trust me. You don't believe I can take care of you. I understand that. But I also understand how to persuade you that I can." Order straightened up and addressed Creativa.

"You see my Cutie Mark?"

The Alicorn of Chaos nodded warily.

"What does it depict?"

Creativa glanced at Luna before swallowing dryly. "The sun," she rasped in response.

"Yes. Proof I am sovereign source of all benevolence in this world. But your Faithful Student is perceptive. She has noticed that while my dominion over the sun extends to all bodies on this globe, there are bodies outside of this globe. Bodies beyond my natural reach."

Order raised his head. For the first time since meeting him, Luna saw actual unhidden emotion on his face: Longing.

"I command the sun and earth, but not the moon. It moves while all else stays still. Ponies see, with fear and sadness, that my magic could neither redeem your sister nor conquer the last heavenly sphere. These failings are why Twiddle Spiral lacks faith. But with this..." his leonine tail gestured to Luna, "I rectify those failings."

Luna gasped as her strength began leeching away. The atmospheric vacuum was back, but this time directly where Order's paw met her neck. Luna's eyes swam and wings convulsed. Her horn still tingled though, because it wasn't Harmony being siphoned away. Order already had plenty of that. Luna's soul was going, and with it her moon magic, her lifeforce, and collapsing sense of self.

Stay awake. Find an opening.

Uncaring, Order fixed his eyes on the moon above. It shined so garishly bright above the atrophied countryside. Another finger snap turned most of Twiddle's head grey, tilting it to follow his final work. And as Luna's spirit waned, so did the full moon. Twiddle's face, her only remaining self, contorted with horror. Order ignored it, lost in victorious bliss. He was grinning now, perfect porcelain teeth reflecting the tepid twilight.

"Air rushes in to fill the emptiness, Creativa. Providence delivers a missing piece to a world that needs it. Moon magic existed. Far away, beyond my reach. But I also knew you would bring it here if I sent you. All it took was the moon mare igniting her horn. Her greatness joined mine the instant I pulled you both here."

Luna's eyes were more cataract than pupil. She lay limp as the moon settled to perfectly half full. "There!" Order exalted. "The world is mine. See, Creativa?" A finger snap flipped his lifelong enemy onto her back. "See, stranger?" He lifted Luna's sunken-cheeked husk and pointed her head to look at him. "Rest eternal, former moon mare. Be at peace knowing your sacrifice saved this-"

Luna fired.

She fired with so much force that Twiddle Spiral's petrified body was knocked over by the earsplitting decompression. A beam engulfed Order more completely than anything Creativa had ever hit him with. He released Luna in an instant, but it was half an instant too late. The pathway in his palm was still open and connected to to his victim. Order own reserve of magic bolted through Luna like a conduit to blast into his face. The feedback loop was so intense that Luna's horn hairline fractured from the sheer amperage of the cascade.

Whatever artificial gravity had been pinning Creativa to the grass, it broke with Order's concentration. She sprang up as fast as she could, sheltering her rapidly recoloring Faithful Student as the supernova subsided.

Finally released from Order's physical grip, a mummified, burned out Luna teetered where she sat. Then the atmospheric Harmony magic, no longer barred from her body, rushed in and rejuvenated her.

"Ha! A draconequus is a draconequus, no matter his color! Pride goeth before a fiery fall!"

Order hit the grass and rolled over, smoke streaming from his ruined coat. Luna fixed him with a contemptuous stare, but before she could command him to surrender, she noticed a thin, violet string of mana still connecting them. One end threaded around Order's finger. The other stretched taut to the tip of Luna's horn. The last thing she she was him giving a resolute yank, severing her soul from her body completely and metabolizing it into himself.

Creativa screamed as Luna's lifeless corpse collapsed. She was silenced when Order, fully restored, snapping his fingers once again. His breathing was heavy and his fur swam with shimmering new highlights, but he didn't appear injured. Only politely angry. Licking his lips, he pointed an arm (now tinted blue from Luna's stolen magic) at Creativa and rumbled his opening statement:

"End of the line, Creativa. Your delivery is complete. Your sucker punches are all thrown. And your ponies... are persuaded."

To demonstrate, Order spread his arms as a small greyed pegasus flittered past Creativa. It was Skitteloo, eyes dead of hope and wings magically resized to allowed her to fly. But of course; all ponies under Order's care were adjusted to be free of their imperfections. One by one, Creativa's monochrome former followers marched past her and Twiddle Spiral, glancing not at them, nor Luna's rustling corpse, nor even Order himself. They remained singular in their unhurried pilgrimage down the hillside and towards the distant villages from whence they'd came. Distance didn't factor; they knew no exhaustion. Danger didn't factor; there were no monsters or terrain that would harm them. They were firmly back beneath the care of Harmony, free from everything. Even free from freedom.

Finally, Order pointed a claw at Twiddle Spiral.

"No," she begged. "No, don't!" Her entire body lost its hue she thrashed desperately in Creativa's embrace.

"Save me!" she wailed. "Please Creativa, don't let-"

Her panic evaporated and she politely trotted off to follow the others. And Creativa let her go because while Twiddle was turning, the Alicorn of Chaos had held her once Faithful Student tighter than ever before. She had poured all her will into countering Order's mind control.

There had been no countereffect. No anything.

Chaos was well and truly gone.

Slumped and alone, Creativa's mind went defensively blank. She'd failed. Worse, she'd delivered Order the tool to claim victory. Creativa attempted to vomit, but couldn't. There was no room left in this world for such unseemliness. So she curled up instead. Just like she had on the beach. Just like she often did whenever the others were all asleep and unable to see her cry. She curled up and remained where she was.

A paw grazed her head, then left.

"Truly irredeemable." There was something close to genuine regret in Order's voice. "Even in my perfection, my touch can't save you from the Chaos you embody. Fade away, Alicorn Of Nothing. Know as you die that I truly tried to save you."
Then he was gone. A final snap signaled his retirement from their concluded struggle.

Fade away.

Creativa could no longer feel her body.

Fade away.

This was what happened to Chaos avatars whose purpose was lost.

Fade away, Creativa.

She was no longer tangible. Her pseudo-hooves were wrapped around herself and her eyelids were scrunched shut, but she could see through both. She saw Luna lying across from her, glowing faintly in the eternal half moonlight. How fitting. Creativa's last look at the world she'd lost was the sight of the pony she'd dragged down with her. Still as the grave and...

Darkening by the second?

The moonlight on Luna's corpse seemed to seep into her coat. Then all at once the energy was swallowed up. Her tail shimmered and Creativa gasped so suddenly her limbs solidified again. She had to move them from her face to witness the ongoing transformation. Luna's form was getting spindly, but also more toned. More primal. Her mane and tail had gone completely ethereal, billowing out like storm clouds. A foreleg suddenly slammed itself deep into the ground, kicking up a clod of dirt that didn't meld back into the earth. All the while, the moon continued to shine, continued to revive Luna's body like water renewing a shriveled sponge. Though perhaps it was a misnomer to say the body was Luna's anymore, because the entity sitting up, blinking its feline eyes, and gritting it predatory teeth... it was definitely not Luna as anyone knew her.

"That pompous, deluded, bastard!" Nightmare Moon cursed in a venomous, otherworldly snarl. "How dare he lay claim to my better half!? I'll rip him to pieces and drag her from his shredded scraps!"

Author's Note

Ya'll ready for this?

Or Maybe A Queen

Creativa sat stupified.

The entity that had grown from Luna was pacing back and forth like a starving panther, and had been doing so for the past few minutes. Anemic wings hung limply at its sides, but each huff of her powerful borrowed lungs perked them up just a little more as the bloodflow returned.

"A sun guardian who is at the same time a draconequus!" The entity was growling to itself more than Creativa. "Two terrible tastes that taste terrible together. Just one of those qualities would be an capital offense to reason, but he just had to defiminise me on sight. To declare himself sole lunarch! Ad damnandum eum! Once I'm back at full strength, he's history. No, wait, less than history. Damnatio memorae is more apropos!"

The entity was spouting profanities that Creativa hadn't heard in centuries. Least of all she wouldn’t have expected them to come from the terminally polite Luna. What was unfolding here made no sense to her, though a large part of that was because the thing hadn't stopped to address her directly.

"Hate," it was trumpeting. "Hate hate hate hate hate HATE..."

Long nights tutoring Twiddle had taught Creativa to hold off interrupting another pony’s thoughts. But truth be told the previous two hours had been the most harrowing and eventful of Creativa's long life. Everypony had a limit to their pleasantry. Luna had obviously passed hers. Creativa decided to follow suit. She wiped her nose and cleared her throat.

“Who are y-“

“Finally recovered your resolve?! Excellent. You will now supply intel.” The pony who’d replaced Luna broke off its pacing to prowl closer, hoarse voice firing off militaristic demands.

“The young mouthy one. Her monologue challenged the usurper to ‘sit on his throne,’ so where would that be? What is your world’s equivalent to Canterlot? Furthermore, what is this world even called?”

Creativa blinked, uncomprehending.

“The equivalent of Canterlot!” The entity reiterated. “State its name and compass bearing, chaos princess! No doubt the usurper has gone to languish in what he idiotically believes is victory. Vultures always go home to roost after getting fat on stolen sustenance. Stolen!“

The last word had been an animalistic shriek that made Creativa wince. She frowned with renewed resolution.

“I'm not a princess,” she finally replied. "And I must say, you’re rather eloquent for a loudmouthed marechild."

Rage contorted the entity’s face. Creativa feared for a moment she was about to be attacked, until the entity’s eyes scrunched shut and a steamy exhale vented the anger away.

“That I am,” it quietly agreed in a tone so controlled and articulate that she almost sounded like Luna again. Almost.

The entity loosed another steamy snort. Then it knelt near Creativa so the two of them were eye to closed eye. It seemed to be staying quiet through considerable self-restraint and Creativa realized she had the floor.

“Who are you?” Creativa asked gently.

“The bilge of Luna’s spiritual septic tank. I am dirty, ugly emergency fuel that is only burned when the lights are off.” The entity’s eyes opened again. They were still fiery, but also calm. “My turn. What is the name of this place?”

Creativa looked away. “Twiddle dubbed these the foothills of the Prancing Peaks. But they don’t have any real name. Nowhere around here does. The earth is the earth, and the sky is the sky. while Order has his way, nothing has any name. Twiddle Spiral was the one who named the Kalihorsey Desert when we retreated through there, and even named herself after I first... I...”

Recounting Twiddle’s now crushed spirit made Creativa choke up. The entity recognized her distress, but seemed unable to care.

“Your turn, though I’ll save you the effort of asking me my name: Once, I was Queen Nightmare Moon, though the title endured for less than an evening. Lost my crown and far more than that through hubris and rainbow lasers.”

Creativa's shaggy eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“You have permission to laugh,” Nightmare Moon invited. “Years of looking out from Luna’s eyes have softened my feelings towards being defeated.”

“I hope I can reach your level of acceptance someday,” Creativa sighed. “I never had a crown of my own to lose, but I still feel like curling up and fading when Order told me to.” She traced a hoof through the grass regretfully. “I don’t have my powers anymore. I’m just a tired old mare with no one left. I wish saying that out loud made me more upset, but I think deep down I always knew there was never any real hope fo-“

“By Faust, you are a depressive sadsack! Have been since you crashlanded on that beach and got one over on Celestia. If that had been me rubbing her face in the sand, you can bet every Bit in the castle vault I’d be hot to trot for weeks afterwards.” Nightmare Moon tapped a hoof to her lip in contemplation. “Then again, inter alia, the reason I exist is to take Celestia down as many notches as I can.” Nightmare Moon seemed lost in self-indulgent reverie for a moment. Creativa has noticed that Nightmare’s favorite pastime was talking about herself to herself. The monster mare abruptly frowned with disgust and acknowledged her companion again.

“You are not Celestia, though. You may look and sound the part, but you lack her... Sui generis. I find it horrifically dull to bully creatures like you who don’t deserve it. There is however a certain sun-patterned usurper who will be an absolute treat to knock off his high horse. A high horse he stole ad imo pectoire, I should reiterate.”

A defensive guffaw escaped Creativa, which made Nightmare Moon tense with insulted anger until she realized the laughter wasn’t directed at her.

“You sound so much like Loopa,” Creativa sighed mournfully. “She always spoke in paragraphs when I was upset, hoping that eventually she’d say something that would cheer me up.” She wiped her eyes with her wing. “When am I gonna learn to let the memory of her go?”

Nightmare Moon snarled contemptuously. “If you put half as much effort into helping me as you do into slurring out eulogies, I’d have the good half of my soul back and you’d have that sister of yours unfrozen by now.”

“Wha-?”

“Deodamnatus, chaos mare! I speak two tongues, and neither seem to be ones you understand: You and I are not beaten. Not as long as our horns sport points and our wings have lift.” She gave a few flaps to demonstrate. “And it seems these are finally alive again, keen on carrying me towards a rematch with the only creature in the multiverse with an ego bigger than mine. But to throttle that boor, I need to know where he dwells. So before you slump and atrophy where you sit, you will give me a bearing. Now or never, because I’m out of tact, out of patience, and out of excuses to not go find him myself.”

Creativa regarded Nightmare Moon for a moment. She couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t felt afraid. In her darkest, most isolated moments, Creativa wondered if fear was all that had ever kept her moving forward. Nightmare Moon had a fire in her hollow soul that Creativa envied. Did she maybe have a Nightmare Moon of her own, somewhere deep down? She supposed it was possible, but she supposed more that it didn’t matter. She was already in the company of someone unflinching. It gave Creativa’s weary knees the strength to stand.

“South by South-Southeast of here is the centroid of the continent. There’s a palace there, on a cliff. I’ve wandered the world several times over and never seen another like it.” Creativa spread her mismatched wings. “And I can take you there.”

Good pony! As I said, we’re not beaten yet." Nightmare Moon ran a hoof through her hair, relaxing into the role of a commander forming war plans. "You can let your greyed out followers languish under Order’s control for now; in a castle siege, the safest occupants are the prisoners in the dungeon. We'll free out afterwards at our leisure.”

“If... if you say so. But even if we find Order at the palace, what can we possibly do to stand against him? The world is empty of chaos, not that it ever did much against him. And what about you? Doesn’t all your magic belong to Order now?”

Nightmare Moon scoffed before taking flight. “He has my magic, yes. But it doesn’t belong to him. It will never belong to anypony but me. But I’ll make that better known once you take us close enough. Now giddyup! I’m a very punctual pony!”

Creativa pumped her wings a few times to prime them.

I’m coming for you, Loopa. Forgive me for making you wait this long.

Creativa rocketed up into the tepid twilight, off to guide an angel of vengeance to the lair of a demon who’d plagued her world far past his allotted time.

Author's Note

Next week: "Luna" vs Order, round two!

Though Not The One You’re Thinking Of

Princess. The moon mare had called herself a Princess.

Heavy steps padded down the palace hall.

To put a label on something meant you owned it. To revoke a thing’s label meant you ruled it.

Order never much cared for labels. Like names, they were inherently Chaotic in the way they let people and places be differentiated. One pony from one another. One landscape from an adjoining mass. His own sovereign dimension from the moon mare’s parallel one.

Former moon mare, Order corrected himself as his pace slowed down the hall. He’d revoked more than just her label. He’d revoked everything from her, keeping the useful parts and discarding the emptied remainder. Her bluster and determination were only memories now. Impurities that the land had reclaimed, just like her hollowed body.

Right?

For peace of mind, Order paused and laid his paw upon a nearby granite pillar. He breathed deep, feeling the leylines of his planet and the creatures whom they bound. They told him thousands of ponies were mulling about. Some trotted slowly from place to place, most sat still, and all of them were quiet in their proper roles. There was no whiff of the moon mare’s biorhythm. Not from anywhere other than himself, that was. No sign of Creativa either, though that was expected. Harmony ruled now, and not a spark of Chaos remained in a sterilized world. Order dropped his paw from the pillar and sighed quietly. It was a pity she'd been irredeemable. A real and honest pity. Loopa would likely be the same, but Order wouldn’t know until he tried.

The courtyard housing her statue was up ahead. Never let it be said that he was a pessimist.

“I never actually been this close to the castle befor-“

“Pipe down or he’ll hear us coming!”

Creativa bit her lip and debated apologizing. Before she could, Nightmare's wings folded back and she dove like a bullet at the palace below. Creativa flapped hard to catch up, landing roughly on the battlements. Nightmare Moon huffed in apprehension, pawing the planks and peeking over the parapet.

“No sign of the brute. Must be indoors. We must find a way in or settle here and hope he leaves. My vote is for settle. I’d forgotten how easily exhausted these mortal lungs can get.”

“Um… concurred,” Creativa managed between heavy breaths of her own. She very rarely flew from place to place, instead walking among her troupe so they could be near her. The reality of them all being gone still hadn’t quite set in, and if Creativa knew of a power higher than Order, she’d pray to it that she’d be able to stay numb a little longer. At least as long as it took for her new companion to make their saving throw. Speaking of which…

“Hey um...Nightmare? What’s our plan exactly?”

“We tear him to shreds as soon as he struts out.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. We don’t have any magic.”

“A minor knock against us.”

“I’m being serious!”

Nightmare Moon huffed heavily, and it wasn’t from exhaustion. “I shall charge him from the left and you from the right. Agreeable?”

“Um, no. Not agreeable. What’s to stop him from pinning us to the ground again?”

“Magic cannot restrain creatures who are devoid of any themselves.”

Creativa blinked. “R-really? Is that true?”

"Yes indeed, mi amica. Luna discovered and exploited that trick long ago while scuffling against a certain centa- Story for another time. Villain inbound.”

Flinching while still crouched, Creativa tensed her limbs. No movement was apparent, but Nightmare Moon stiffened to steely attention and staring down over the battlements. A moment or two passed.

"Relax those knees and straighten your back," Nightmare suggested icily. "He's approaching the courtyard from a side hall, but isn't in view yet."

Creativa she did as she was told. "You can sense him coming? I can't feel anything. Must be your residual magic you were talking about, still linked with his. Faust above, if you have a thread of mana spooled off him, we may actually stand a chanc-"

“Non ducor duco. I told you, I'm as empty as you are." Despite the confession, Nightmare Moon was allowing herself a smug smile. "These walls are some fine stonework. Clear and resonant enough to announce an oversized beast lumbering this way."

Breath held and ears strained, Creativa realized Nightmare was right. She heard it now: even, shuffling steps from a creature who had no reason to sneak and nopony to fear.

He thinks he has nopony to fear, anyway.

Order finally sauntered into view. His coat had slightly darkened, but his face was stern and contemptuous as ever. He progressed past their perch, heading towards some unseen destination in a grove of trees.

Creativa was really doing this. For once, she was the predator, anticipating her hapless prey. With an even more dangerous ally readying to sneak-

"As per the rules of formal combat, I'll announce our grievances and issue my challenge." Nightmare Moon reared up on her hinds, fully visible above the parapet.

"You'll what??" Creativa hissed. But it was too late.

"Petty thief and pretender king!" Nightmare Moon's royal Canterlot voice boomed defiantly over a stagnant world. "We demand satisfaction and the prompt return of Luna's soul!"

Ears full of tinnitus, Creativa peeked desperately down. Order had not turned around from his spot near the grove. He hadn't even flinched.

"YOU INSOLENT FRAUD! RESPOND PER YOUR OBLIGATION!" Openly infuriated now, Nightmare Moon hurled herself down into the courtyard.

"What the hay are you doing!?," Creativa shouted. "I thought we would ambush-"

At the sound of Creativa's voice, Order spun around and blasted. He was a hair too late to hit Creativa, already diving down after her berserking companion. The battlements where she'd just been erupted in a garish conflagrant rainbow, ejecting brick and mortar in all directions. Then the atmosphere's ambient Harmony repaired the damage like a rewinding projector reel. Not that Creativa noticed as she scrambled up from a rough landing in the grass.

"You," Order chuffed with a harder, more unnerved edge to his drone than normal. "How are... you're empty, so how are you still..?"

"I WILL NOT CONTINUE TO BE IGNORED!" Nightmare Moon was foaming at the mouth and charging across the lawn like a mad bull. Order didn't look at her, but he did squint skeptically at Creativa's gaping amazement.

Then his eyes bulged as Nightmare lanced his chest with her horn.

"Awgh!"

The gasp of an injured monster. A bloodied horn extracting from a stabbed sternum. Nightmare Moon whinnied in triumph as Order staggered backward, paw over his injury. He was looking wildly around, everywhere except at the one who'd stabbed him. He fixated on Creativa again.

"You have no magic," he gurgled while trying to stay stern. "How did you do that?"

Creativa opened and closed her mouth a few times, unsure to respond. Nightmare stood by, relatively clearheaded and beginning to realize something was off. Order eyes flickered to where Creativa was staring, then swiped at what his eyes saw as empty space. A paw to the snout sent Nightmare Moon reeling back.

"You're an eternal scourge, Creativa." Order was rubbing his paw and boiling with more anger than she'd ever heard from him before. "I was careless for thinking Chaos would go quietly." He whipped his tail in a defensive arc around him, but Nightmare was still hanging back, hoof to her jaw and eyes clenched in pain. "Whatever unseen devilry you're now performing... it is obviously a last resort. But I'm done taking chances." Another tail whip, another miss. Order raised his free paw, the one not clamped over his wound. "Harmony is too merciful for what needs done to you, so I... I will call upon Chaos to destroy itself. With the Moon Mare's magic, I can command her now." He raised his paw and savored his next command.

"Loopa, kill your sister."

Fingers snapped and movement came from the nearby grove.

"No," Creativa rasped. "No no no no..."

Down from an unseen pedestal, out from the ageless glen, four shambling, fossilized hooves carried a pony-shaped statue on a mission of murder. The thing moved like a petrified puppet. The thing was a petrified puppet, but even without her magic Creativa knew what was dormant inside its granite core. Golem's shape was unmistakable.

"Don't..." The courtyard walls were closing in on Creativa. Her universe was nothing but Order's resolute glare and the mindless, heedless doom trudging towards her. "Loopa, please! it.. it's me..."

Nightmare Moon hoofed Order in the gut with all her might. "Employing an underling to perform your dirty work!? Tramas putidas, I will END you!"

"Gah!" Order stooped to his knees, unable to hear Nightmare Moon, but clearly able to feel her. "Loopa, kill faster!"

The golem picked up its pace, pounding towards its trembling target while Order threw another blind punch at nothing. Nightmare landed another kick, this one to his ribs, before jumping back and addressing her useless ally.

"Run, you foalish fop! If you aren't going to fight, then run!"

Creativa didn't need to be told twice. She fled like the wind into open palace door, the golem close enough to have been stomping on her tail if it wasn't tucked impotently under her back legs.

Order frowned after her, unsure what to do. He took a few cautious steps after them before Nightmare inflicted another stab to his side.

"Oh if you could only hear my voice," she seethed. "And the many ancient profanities I'd hurl at you right now." She trotted in a wide circle while Order remained doubled over. "Take it from another career tyrant: you may have two souls, but not a heart to be seen. It's so very rare I get to wail on someone who truly deserves it."

Nightmare pivoted pridefully and donkey-kicked Order on the base of the spine. "Sincerely," she continued as she ducked another inaccurate counter punch. "I've bested your counterpart in battle before, and that was without inexplicable invisibility." Order was heaving heavily. Furiously. Nightmare continued her unheard pontificating.

"It's doubtful that Celestia's mopey lookalike has much fight in her. But I do hope I can extract Luna and break your grip on this dull dimension before your granite goon gets back. A few more impales should be sufficient. What say you? If I'm correct about everything, make no response."

"Damn you, Chaos! Damn your defiance in defeat and your cowardly attacks from the shadows!"

The earth under Order rumbled and roiled, so suddenly that Nightmare lost her hoofing.

"I am the authority of this world! I am Harmony incarnate! I.. am... the Elements!"

Six gems, each a different color, blinked into orbit around Order. He roared with abandon as they fired in every direction, scouring hextuplets of laser burns along the walls, the grass, the topiary.

Well wrought destruction corrected itself just as quickly as it appeared. Order peered around blearily for some sign of success. What he got was a hoof to the head as Nightmare swooped down from above.

Another roar. Another frenzy of firing, this time into the sky and with such enraged, frustrated bombast that a distant pony formerly called Twiddle Spiral shivered at her desk.

Nightmare Moon hit the dirt as a stray beam sizzled past her singed mane. She was immune to most magic, but not the Elements Of Harmony.

"Right then," she murmured with considerably less confidence. "Let's see if I can break my two-time losing streak against those vexing, trigger-happy gemstones."

Author's Note

Hey, what’s with Order's sudden surge in emotion? And why is Nightmare Moon invisible to him? I'm sure there isn't something she lost and he gained that could explain both oddities.

:trollestia:

Next installment: Creativa vs Loopa

And Some Forward Planning On Her Sister’s Part

Celestia made another nervous furlough down the beach. She told herself that she was being paranoid, but the assurance didn't stick. Her blouse was itchy and her sunhat caught an annoying amount of wind resistance. Still, she reached the bluff, turned on her heels, and paced back up the shoreline again. Celestia looped around the two vacant chairs without sparing a glance at the picnic blanket nor the supply of high-end sugarcube candies in the basket nearby.

Were anypony around to see the legendarily gluttonous Queen Regent of the Sun ignore her junk food, they’d have concluded she’d lost her mind. Ironically (or maybe fittingly, Celestia was too frazzled to care right now) it was precisely because nopony was nearby that she was still pacing. It took a lot to form a knot in Celestia’s stomach, especially one big enough to choke out her infamous appetite. What did it was seeing her pompously pontificating sister vanish mid sentence. At least if C.. Cree.. Damn it all to Tartarus, why was she so bad with names?! Celestia kicked a small sand pile as she passed by.

At least if her dimensional counterpart was still here, they could be talking to one another, reasoning whether what just happened was normal or not. But nope, Luna had fired up her horn with a flourish, proclaimed exactly what extremity of Order’s body she planned to kick, and was in the process of asking the other Celes- Creativa! That was it!

Luna was about to ask the demure but hopeful Creativa where in the multiverse they’d all three be needing to go. That was when both of them blinked out of existence leaving Celestia stupefied in the sand.

There hadn't been so much as a teleportation flash, but there was something else: A telltale aftertaste of Harmony magic. Maybe. It had disappeared from Celestia’s perception quickly. Perhaps intentionally muted by its caster. And given that Harmony magic was what parallel Discord employed to grease his plan’s wheels, Celestia had every cause to worry her sister and counterpart had been snared by some sort of trap.

Worry, but not know what to do about it. Because realistically, what could she do?

Twilight Sparkle would be no help; she had a kingdom to run now. Besides, what leads could Celestia possibly provide her? Point at the spot on the beach where the hijacked teleport had occurred? She knew the type of pony Twilight was. Even as a foal, Twilight had been high strung, prone to panicking, and overwhelmed by surprise disasters that had no apparent solution. There would be no help to be had there.

Celestia’s pacing reached the bluff again, so she pivoted and headed back in the direction of the chairs. Might as well keep going in physical circles as well as mental ones.

Discord seemed like a reasonable second choice. Then she gave it a second thought and remembered nothing about Discord could ever be called ‘reasonable.’ After he got done needling her for being so careless and then by some miracle cared to help her out, and by some bigger miracle managed to pick up some sort of cosmic trail that led to to Order... even if he cooperated all the way to that point, his magic would likely be as ineffective against Order as Creativa’s magic had been against Celestia herself. That is to say, due to their identical biorhythms, there’d be no effect.

Discord was no good. Celestia was out of allies.

The funny thing about sand crab burrows is that they’re imperceptibly small and almost impossible for a feverishly distracted queen regnant to notice. Not unless one of her hooves had the misfortune of stepping in one. Sprawled out in the hot sand, Celestia cursed loudly and impotently. At her throbbing ankle, at her own weak decision making, at everything.

What had happened to her? Were 1000 years of steadfast leadership so quickly unspooled by six months of sipping cocktails and sunbathing like a sloth? Or, Celestia mused darkly, maybe she’d always been like this and nopony but her had ever peeked at her while she was plainclothed. Take away the regalia and crown. Give her this relentlessly itchy sunblouse and embarrassingly floppy hat, both of which she was presently and disgustedly pulling off over her head. Who was she then? A scattered, nervous old mare getting fat on sweets in her winter years?

Celestia blew out heavily and sat up. Just minutes ago, Creativa had been curled up and sobbing in the exact same circumstance: alone, panicked, and crushed by longing for her younger sister’s safety. Celestia forced a smile at their synchronicity.

Leaving her hat and blouse behind, Dowager Princess Celestia waded past the nearby break where the water met the sand. She flared her sweaty wings and the chilling surf soothed them. Wave after wave washed over her face and back. They cooled her choler, they iced away her fears.

A few minutes later, Celestia was reclined in her beach chair again.

Her hat was back on, but it felt less silly. Her blouse was buttoned up again, but the itch was gone. Also gone were twelve sugar cubes in the picnic basket and soon she’d bring that total up to a baker’s dozen. Heh. Baker’s dozen. That was an old term. Archaic, even. Celestia hadn’t used the phrase ‘baker’s dozen’ in at least hundred years, and she’d probably have forgotten it by now if it wasn’t a regular part of Luna’s antiquated vernacular.

Celestia sighed as she levitated the thirteenth cube to her mouth. Speaking of Luna, Celestia’s wasn’t so worried about her younger sister’s safety anymore. Not one bit. Luna was a harlequin out of time while Celestia had been worn down by a millennium of bureaucratic work and public service hearings. Luna’s soul was fresh, which was why she’d been so restless in retirement and eager to head out at the first opportunity for adventure. Because that’s all this was, really. An afternoon adventure. Luna would conquer the enemy of the week and be back without any hiccups. Besides, if things did get rough, there was always The Failsafe.

Celestia swallowed the last of her thirteenth sugarcube, trusting that the lump in her throat was from her snack, not her thoughts.

Luna would be fine. One way or another. That was a certainty. What mood she would return in though... that was completely up in the air. Celestia had seen enough in her long life to know plenty of things could bend a pony painfully far without breaking her. And if Creativa’s behavior was any example, Order was a master of bending without breaking. And yet Luna… her spirit... her Failsafe...

The stomach knot battled with Celestia’s appetite again.

She reached for another sugarcube.

Author's Note

I know I promised a fight scene this week, but my current draft of the sequence isn't hitting the correct tone I want it to. Definitely needs more refining.

Still, I didn't want to go a week without an upload, so here's what was supposed to be the first half of chapter four. Consider it an interlude of sorts. I do hope The Failsafe isn’t too predictable, but anyone who remembers Twiddle’s theory and knows the first thing about Luna can probably already guess where this is going.