The oldest stories say that in the beginning the world was a chaotic mess, so chaotic that even Discord would be ashamed. The chaos was so devastating that normal people turned into gods; turning them immortal. From those immortals came powerful beings, four to be precise. What their names were and who exactly they were though was lost to time from a long, long forgotten age. Yet the oldest stories say they existed as aspects for the current world: Sunlight, Chaos, Magic, and Death. Those same stories argue of a fifth being, though it's all agreed that they were meek, helpless and only was aided by the other four.
Celestia knew the stories back and forth, yet as she looked at the pyre in front of her, she couldn't help but think if the fifth being was as meek and helpless as the stories portray it as. Near the ending of Sombra's journal's he talks of the magic it uses.
The darkest magics concocted by the Meek, it is a final resort, but should it prove useful, I could bury the kingdom in a drowning darkness that would corrupt even the Crystal Heart... Despite my affinity, I must not fall so close to that Darkness. There's no telling how absolute it is really. I've heard whispers by scholars who've dived in such perfect dark... they speak of a "Toothy serpent" that smells of Death itself.
She memorized that small piece, because it was extremely important. That Darkness is what made Luna fall, the same Darkness that Sombra was afraid of, or at the very least cautious of. Stygian had been corrupted by such Darkness, but as Starswirl put it, only a tiny fragment of it, and it was banished forever back into the pitch black nothingness... An abyss where nothing reigned. She had asked Starswirl what it was like in that dark place.
"Celestia... if you have a heart you will never ask me that question again."
It wasn't quite the answer she was expecting, but given that his composure had wilted like flower in the winter, she probably could've worded it better. Still, she stared at the pyre with the small flame flickering inside. A horned skull sits there in the smoldering pile of ash, yet it remains untouched, save the coiled sword stabbed through its top. Her mother had preformed this ritual, as did her mother's mother and so on. She was meant to preform the same as her ancestors before, yet as she made her reservations about it and planned to make Twilight Sparkle in charge, the fire waned little by little until only a tiny, smoldering pile of embers remained.
"The fire is sacred, it shall never go out. Flesh must become cinder, lest you cower and become ash. Are you ready for such an endeavor, Queen Solis?"
"I am. I will become cinder for the fire, and my ancestors will will live on forever."
She had watched from the doorway as her mother gripped the sword and screamed in agony as the fire creeped up and engulfed her body. She watched in fear as the fire turned her mother to ash, and the high priest there intoned that she was not worthy of the flame, yet it seemed as though it was emboldened somewhat. Later that year, she was made ruler. Some time later when Luna came of age, she became co-ruler. She was meant now to take a hold of the sword, as her rule was ending and Twilight's would begin. Still, she stared at the pyre, watching it crackle lightly as the sparks floated in the air.
She wondered to herself. Would she be worthy of grasping the sword? Would she turn to ash like her mother? What if she turned away, and let the fire finally die? Her mother had showed her the flame once before, and it was bright and licked the top of the chamber, but seeing it now as small and meek as it was, she felt almost obligated to let it be snuffed out. Should she let it do it on it's own, or maybe do it herself...
"Well," a kindly old voice rang out from the corner. Celestia turned to the source, and old woman in crimson robes. "What have we here? The ruler of the realm having second thoughts about throwing herself into the fire?" She said curiously, chuckling softly as Celestia looked at her with unfamiliarity. "No need to worry about an old handmaiden, deary. I used to tend to the flame when I was just a wee girl, of course that was in a kingdom far, far away."
Celestia didn't say a word to her, but took in the information; tending the flame? The flame existed in another kingdom? "Flames are known to die in quiet," the old woman continued, "yet I knew of one soul who was strong enough to keep it going. I'm surprised that it's even still lit. So, what will you do?" She asked as she gestured towards the flame. Celestia took a hard look at the flame, remembering what it did to her mother, and what it must've done to her mother's mother and so on. She took a step towards the flame, thinking of all the things she's done up until this point and finally stopped at the base of the pyre. The fading flame and the sword barely glowed, but the heat she felt was still intense. her hands shook, her brow was sweating and she could here her heartbeat. Still, the old woman looked on with an air of curiosity.
Celestia took a deep breath and steeled her resolve, and slowly reached out for the hilt of the sword, but stopped short. She looked deeply into the eye sockets of the horned beast skull the sword was embedded in. She saw the darkness looking back at her, but she also saw life teeming inside the empty holes, change and happiness. Her hands still shook, but she dropped them and took a step back away from the fire.
"No," she said, "I refuse."
The kind old woman in red smiled at her and simply nodded. Celestia turned away from the flame and opened the door, where Luna stood just outside, prepared to knock. "Oh! There you are, I was looking for you all over the place! The train is going to leave for Silver Sholes in an hour, we mustn't be late!" She said happily running towards the main gates. Celestia hesitantly took a step outside the door, and turned back to look at the room she just left. No longer was there a burning pyre with smoldering sword and beast's skull sitting in the middle, and no longer was there a kindly old woman standing in the corner, but rather a simple, plain looking study room. She smiled at the mural of her mother, and wiped a tear from her cheek.
