Arc 5 – Ponies after all Chapter 2 – Heavenborn sisterhood

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Ash stumbled.

“Aren’t deserts supposed to have only sand in them?” she muttered, inspecting the ground where her hoof had caught on something.

Her eyes discovered only what she had wished for—the vast variety of grit. The darkness could be blamed for her failure in finding anything else, but one more factor might have also contributed to her uneven gait.

“Note: mental and physical exhaustion impairs locomotion,” Nameless remarked in their usual dry manner. “Ash’s energy reserves: depleted.”

The alicorn rolled her eyes, “You don’t say.”

Her head spun wildly—thoughts buzzed in her mind like a hungry swarm of fat flies over an unthawed cadaver. Ash’s life had already undergone many drastic changes, but ever since she had emerged from her cruel ice cradle, it turned into something she would have never dared to imagine.

That, and she was tired.

The legendary Machine Goddess gathered all kinds of ponies and creatures Ash didn’t know even existed, passed the news almost beyond the alicorn’s comprehension and called for a seemingly impossible task. The kaleidoscope of equines, events and revelations consumed the alicorn so thoroughly, she missed not just a tin can appearing in her vicinity, but the flames of a modest bonfire starting to gnaw on mouldering plywood that wasn’t there just a moment ago.

Hooking the preserves’ ring with her horn and pulling on it revealed the food tin’s contents being something other than pickled vomit; though Ash paid no attention to the difference anyway—the fog inside her skull coiled too thickly.

However, the fire swelling with resounding cracks served as a lighthouse, guiding her consciousness back to reality and reminding her—she had a responsibility now. Like the embers dispelled the darkness, so she would have to banish shadows—and for the whole world, no less… the world that might be at its end.

“Was she right?” Ash wondered aloud and immediately parted her lips to specify who she meant.

Unexpectedly, that proved unnecessary.

“The Machine Goddess’ prediction: questionable. The Machine Goddess’ plan: impracticable.”

Momentarily stunned by both Nameless’ acumen as much as their dismissal of the entire grand meeting’s idea, she blurted, “How do you know?”

“Calculation of future events: not possible,” Nameless stated simply; not that they could inform Ash in a different fashion, though the alicorn could swear their voice started to get subtle inflexion. This time it resembled, if distantly, something betwixt disdain and mockery.

Anyhow, their answer only caused her to frown—it didn’t add up with what she knew about Nameless; or what she assumed.

“Didn’t you say your ability had no limits?” Ash squinted thoughtfully at them, thinking if she missed something about the deities of this world… an easily achievable feat, considering her scant wit and witting. Before she could realise what she was saying, her thoughts slipped from her tongue, “But you are a god, aren’t—”

A slap echoed above the peaceful sand, but it couldn’t return words into Ash’s throat. With hooves pressed to her muzzle, she stared at Nameless with eyes as wide as the Moon hanging in the starry sky above and expected—dreaded—the grave consequences of her uncareful action—making a god self-aware; a god which had a very questionable idea of morality, if at all.

Their skull expressed perfect blankness, and Nameless levelly informed the alicorn, “Nameless’ ability has no limits within reasonable parameters. Prediction of future events: unreasonable request.”

As Ash let out a sigh of relief, returned the empty look with hers full of disbelief—that didn’t qualify as ‘limitless’, which Nameless had used to describe their potential earlier. Did they boast back then? Now she wanted to know Nameless’ already seemingly conveniently vague definition of ‘reasonable’.

But the macabre being spoke first, “Inquiry: define god.”

The alicorn readily opened her mouth… and no words came out of it—only an intelligible groan.

If for a moment she ignored her incompetence in giving any sort of factual knowledge, her definition born of rumours and tales amounted to quite a simple concept—an entity able to do anything. Yet she hesitated to share it—her recent experiences put such an interpretation under scrutiny. For example, why did someone called a Machine Goddess asked for help? Shouldn’t she be able to fix Harmony herself? The others at the meeting, who, according to Nameless, could act as world-enders, would have to work together to get a chance at solving the looming catastrophe; Ash stood amongst them, which meant she should be counted as a ‘god’, too…

Her silence prompted Nameless to answer their own question.

“Data suggests: no definition.”

Ash rolled her eyes—why ask her then?

“Attributes found in all versions: omniscience, omnipotence, omnipresence. Observation: all candidates lack applicable consciousness.”

“What,” the alicorn snorted, “one has to have a special brain to be a god?”

“Correct.”

“I was joking.”

“Humour attempt: failure,” Nameless deadpanned, much to the alicorn’s chagrin. “Explanation: consciousness formed within a material body is incapable of processing data necessary for the listed parameters.”

Though the alicorn’s weariness rendered deciphering their comment a nearly insurmountable task, the implication of Nameless’ words caught Ash’s attention.

“What about you?”

It still evaded Ash why Nameless clung to that strange and unsettling ‘body’ as even she deduced them being a sort of spirit able to exist without gemstones or another kind of vessel serving as a final milestone before achieving practical immortality and invincibility usually befitting those who claimed to be the gods.

Ash received only heavy silence in answer, but the incapable of displaying any emotion figure on the opposite side of the tiny fire gained a sort of stillness that spoke of the question striking deep.

The struggle to recall her attempt to learn Nameless’ past led Ash to remember how their similar conversation had ended the last time—with the Machine Goddess disrupting it. But the exchange that had followed the unexpected encounter only confused Ash and now she understood even less about her companion.

“The Machine Goddess…” she asked carefully, “What did she do to you?”

Nameless hesitated with the reply, if they planned to give it at all; the slight bow of their head did betray something going on inside the borrowed skull.

“The Machine Goddess created… set up conditions for Nameless… to… manifest.”

The alicorn tried her best, but comprehending Nameless relation to the Machine Goddess or how they came to be demanded more brain power than she possessed at the moment; though, Ash doubted she would gain enough after rest… or ever. And the effort it took Nameless to satiate her curiosity suggested her companion had more feelings than they bothered to show—that Ash could relate to and intended to respect.

The silence stretched, gaining an awkward quality; still, it went on unbroken and gradually the uneasiness vanished, letting the whispers of cool sand and the murmur of the night breeze be noticed.

Nevertheless, Ash did eventually dare to speak, hoping Nameless wouldn’t perceive her question as a continuation of her prying in their early life.

“So… what now?”

“Recommendation: rest,” they replied ambiguously.

A sigh whistled past the alicorn’s lips. Nameless’ suggestion sounded undeniably wise, yet if Ash were to close her stinging from exhaustion eyes, flashbacks of what she had experienced through the long day filled her vision.

At least, being tired helped with not thinking about what should—would have to—come after the night. The daunting task of Rising the Sun lured Ash’s eyes to the dark sky. Although she missed the warm radiance already, she couldn’t help but admire the striking beauty of the star-strewn firmament.

It reminded her of something—someone.

“Luna… who was that…” Shivers run down her spine before she finished uncertainly, “...Pony?”

“Life form: alicorn,” Nameless dutifully answered. “Designation: photoscotopic cycle controller.”

At first, it made no sense—why did there have to be another, someone with whom she had to share her skies? Common sense quickly replaced hostility, however—someone must have been moving the Sun before Ash got her cutie mark; which raised another question.

The alicorn frowned at Nameless or, rather, their ‘attire’ of bones and Sunset Shimmer’s ire echoed in her mind. Those once belonged to a pony called Celestia, the name which Luna cried out in heart-wrenching desperation; Discord also told her she was ‘one of the two of the kind’.

If Ash’s mind suffered no exhaustion, she would have connected the dots; instead, she addressed her companion.

“She called me her sister.” Glancing at Celestia’s remains, she added, “Or us.”

“Blood relation: not found.”

“But she seemed to recognise me. Or you.”

Nameless mulled over her words for a moment, then replied, “Conjecture: Luna mistook Ash for Princess Celestia.”

“She was the previous photoscotopic cycle controller, wasn’t she?” Ash finally realised.

More questions popped up in her mind even before they confirmed:

“Correct.”

Nameless mentioned how they had found those bones, meaning Celestia probably died long before that. It didn’t mean, however, they shouldn’t know anything about Ash’s predecessor—they used to spend all their time gathering data, after all.

Of many reasons why she wanted to know, one bothered Ash the most—her ‘counterpart’ suffered horribly and she had to know if the same fate awaited her.

“What is her story?”

“Data extraction…” Nameless trailed off. Soon they continued, but their voice sounded exactly like how the Machine Goddess spoke when she appeared for the first time before Ash—as a young lavender unicorn.

“Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria…”

For the finale Nameless reverted their voice to the usual emotionless tone, lifelessly stating Celestia’s cause of death and the events that had led to her untimely demise.

Ash sat silently, solemnly digesting the brief and stylised chronicle of a veritable, if not goddess, than demi-goddess and struggled not to despair from the size of the horseshoes she had to fill if she wished to live up to the name of the one who came before her. Somehow, the young alicorn couldn’t help feeling she inherited the vast legacy along with the Sun cutie mark.

She would certainly return to those thoughts later, when her mind gained some clarity and one particular concern stopped bothering her.

“Who are the changelings?” Ash voiced it.

“Life form: changelings are shapeshifting equines—”

“The roach-horse at the gathering!” Ash interrupted her companion with a triumph of getting something right.

Though she likely imagined it, Nameless glared at her.

“Um, sorry. I should be wary of her, right? She killed my predecessor.”

“Mistake: Queen Heterocera succeeded Queen Chrysalis.”

The strange names and titles flew over Ash’s head, but not the meaning; it barely helped, however.

“Well, I don’t like her anyway.” Ash shrugged. “She’s creepy even by my standards. Speaking of which… what was that thing in Luna’s mane?”

“Constant: Nightmare.”

“Like a bad dream?” The alicorn frowned in confusion; it deepened as she realised the subtle change in Nameless’s speech. “Wait, what do you mean it’s a ‘constant’?”

“Warning: Nightmare cannot be affected by any known means.”

A horrible suggestion formed in Ash’s mind. “Is it a… god?”

“Data: insufficient,” Nameless replied curtly—sharper than usual.

Ash stared at them in concern, but the skull met her gaze unwaveringly, refusing to comment any further.

Life by the Deep Tunnels acquainted Ash with many horrors, ranging from brutal abominations climbing up from the unfathomable depths to the subtle perils showing themselves only when it was too late for the victim; Nightmare seemed to fit both categories and Nameless rendered it even more dangerous with their ominous refusal to elaborate.

The dark mare bore no wounds, but the toll taken by Nightmare on her physique and psyche couldn’t be disregarded. The story Nameless told her in a borrowed voice suggested none of that—just an acute case of jealousy and massive miscommunication. In reality, a horrifying force seemed to be devouring a deific entity alive and driving her delirious.

The alicorn gulped.

“What is going to happen to Luna?”

“Analysis of available data: progressive memory loss until termination of life functions.”

Even with Nameless calling Nightmare a ‘constant’, she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Can’t anything be done about it?”

Nameless didn’t answer for a while, ultimately stating with the merest shadow of regret, “Corruption level: critical. Luna’s data: irrecoverable.”

Ash, too, decided to give it some thought, futile that might be at the moment… and in the general. The story about six friends sounded like a proven solution, except it was no more than a fairy tale and the circumstances hinted at the situation being not so straightforward—this time Luna seemed to be more of a victim, rather than the culprit, and the Elements would have been already used if that was an option.

However, her thoughts moved in another direction, telling her how she might be sharing with Luna more than just possession of both wings and a horn. And the more she realised that, the colder the air around her seemed to become. She gasped as her mind came to the conclusion.

In a horrified whisper, Ash squeezed out of herself, “There are… thoughts… in my head. I don’t think they are… mine.”

She dared to meet Nameless gaze, but whatever judgement they held, it failed to be passed through the dark eye sockets of Celestia’s skull.

The silence stretched, filled with Ash’s frantic heartbeat.

“Please, say something,” she nearly sobbed, yet afraid to hear Nameless’ answer.

“Invasive action: potentially harmful.”

It took Ash a few moments to understand what they meant. She shuddered from recalling the sensation of invisible claws probing her mind for precious data.

“The alternative is just dying slowly.” She whimpered to herself, unable to banish from her vision the skeletal silhouette with the tumour of Nightmare feeding on it; or how crestfallen Luna looked when Ash failed to recognise her. “And painfully.”

“Confirm action: data analysis.”

The alicorn took a long breath and just as slowly exhaled.

“I’m ready,” she lied.

Cracking her eyes open, Ash expected to hear a snap of ice—the effort it took suggested they froze overnight. Her head pounded like she got an icicle lodged into it and her throat ached—as if she ate a lot of snow… or screamed for hours.

Trying to figure out which of the malaises woke her up, she realised it was, in fact, a bony hoof insistently nudging her awake. She rolled on her back to meet Nameless’ expressionless ‘muzzle’; the sight would have given her a jolt were it not for her miserable state.

Then Ash remembered what led to her lying on the sand in the middle of the desert and regretting being alive—none of those concerns mattered; none, but one.

“How did it go?” the alicorn rasped out, wincing from the pain caused by both the sound of her speech and the difficulty of producing it.

“Observation: vital signs found.”

“Wow, I would have never guessed.” Ash rolled her eyes; her voice got sombre, however—and hesitant. “What… else did you find?”

“Extraneous influence: not found,” Nameless answered with a suggestion of relief.

Ash, on the other hoof, didn’t hurry to let out a figurative breath.

“But what about those thoughts?” Another worry took place of the creeping fear, no less grave. “Am I just going crazy?”

The Deep Tunnels’ influence had a certain effect on some of those who experienced them for too long or too intimately; the flesh-eating ponies infesting Canterlot’s ruins had to abandon their sanity before changing their diet—the years-long winter might have whittled Ash’s already compromised balance of mind away in a fashion most insidious.

Her companion informed her, “Mental illness: not found.”

The stars twinkling in the no longer black sky reflected in Ash’s eyes as she reflected upon herself, staring into the Sunless void of her past and seeing the river of time flowing backwards; she didn’t have to observe its swirling currents for long, though. The young mare vividly recalled the hours spent with Discord back then when he appeared as a gryphon—their talks, the answers she gave him.

Her mind always harboured such thoughts—the simple whims of a bitter survivor, but after a few conversations with the Lord of Chaos in disguise she started to question her urges to lash out, kill or destroy—he showed her why to take notice of them and also reminded that there should be more to her life than just remaining alive at any cost.

“Then I guess it’s a sort of thing everyone can have,” Ash thoughtfully concluded; she just happened to also be someone who could ashen the entire world.

It did solve her problem and in a way made it worse—she couldn’t push responsibility onto some monstrosity messing with her brain, and speaking of duties…

“How long have I been out?”

Her eyes shifted to the horizon glowing with gentle salmon; there, her beloved Sun waited impatiently—she sensed its silent call.

“Seven hours.”

More than Canterlot usually let her have, it still failed to imbue her body with enough energy. Closing her eyes, she curled on the sand, mumbling, “Five more minutes.”

A pointed limb prodded her side with all the kindness of a rusty nail.

“Objection: photoscotopic cycle requires adjustment.”

A prolonged groan escaped her cracked lips as Ash took a sitting position; a yawn interrupted her, she then turned to Nameless, who observed the alicorn, clearly unimpressed.

“Alright.” Ash gulped. “H-how do I do it?”

“Special designation: provides knowledge on an unconscious level. Nameless: provides astronomical data.”

The lack of encouragement certainly didn’t help; the fear of messing up the day and night order for the entire world had already started to paralyse Ash.

She sharply inhaled and closed her eyes.

No! It wasn’t just her ‘designation’ printed on her rump; she wanted to bring light to the ponies and whatnot—all deserved warmth, and none had to suffer the eternal darkness or cold like she did.

Before the doubts had a chance to climb back into the throne reserved for reason and rule over her mind again, Ash let the magic fill her horn till it spilt out, reaching for something so distant yet so close—something that always was in her heart, before she even realised it.

The might of the Sun nearly overwhelmed her, the sheer power of a celestial body beyond comparison; yet it submitted to her will a heartbeat later, following a path Ash somehow knew to be a true one.

Her eyelids fluttered open and for a moment the incandescence of the reality that was murky a moment ago blinded her—only so briefly, her sight quickly adjusted to the molten gold flooding the dunes.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” the alicorn murmured and a smile played on her lips.

And with the Sun slowly painting the sky a keen azure, the need to sleep abated; the sands no longer seemed unwelcoming and the journey—impossible. The triumph didn’t last, unfortunately—the desert bore a concerning blemish.

A spot of stubborn darkness not so far away rejected the Sun’s grace with vehemence, jittering like an eerie mirage. A tiny spot, yet more than enough to spoil the beautiful morning.

But that spell failed to last, too.

“We have to help her,” Ash stated in a tone hard as stone. As Nameless turned their skill to remind her of the futility of such an idea, the alicorn added, just as determinedly, “I don’t care—there has to be something that can be done.”

“Request: reason.”

No immediate answer came.

A week ago Ash wouldn’t even consider coming close to an abomination Luna had become. Now, she knew of their cutie marks forming a unique pair, or why they shared a ‘mutant’ physique; a link rooted in ancient legends connected them through ages and generations.

Whilst still far from fully figuring it out, Ash started to understand her place in this world and the path she walked; Luna trod the same lonely road.

“She might not be my sister, yet it feels like she’s the closest I’ll ever have to a family.”

Author's Note

English isn't my native language; though I try my best and use various tools to aid myself, I'm aware that a result is far from perfect. That said, if you notice anything that you think should be fixed—please let me know.

I hope you've enjoyed reading this story so far.
Stay awesome.