Steady hum of magic reverberated through the Royal Library, accompanied by the sound of hundred of quills etching meaning into pieces of parchment. It was quite a wonder to behold, the library, that is. Accumulative knowledge of thousands of years and hundreds of cultires stored and kept safe for all to see and study.
It was unusual for the library to be closed, the study remained operational even during holidays, bringing joy to many bookworms across Canterlot. Today was special however.
It was a rare sight to behold these days, Empress Twilight Sparkle, free of her royal regalia and the confines of her chambers. Scholars will later say that the Empress became distant some time before her disapperance. She paid less attention to formalities, often appearing to be distracted, as if her mind was wandering elsewhere.
The yearly Galas became a tad more dull with the monarch's absense, but remained as a tradition. The nobles paid no mind to it, however, continuing to mingle with eachother, plotting and scheming against friend and foe alike.
She appeared less and less at Parliament's meetings, to the point that most descisions were agreed upon without her presense. Once it was apparent that her word was not required, she was ruled out, and the bureaucratic apparatus began working on its own, assigning a figure head representative for the monarch.
It was to be expected, and she supposed it was time for her ponies to make their own descisions.
It was something they'll grow accustomed to soon enough.
Her reclusive behaviour alongside her abstinence from any government matters made her latest outing quite the scandalous one. It was shocking for the Empress to attend this year's Gala, more shocking still was her announcement.
Whispers sparked throughout the gathering crowd when The Empress trotted down the stairs, a young-looking unicorn mare standing by her side.
They erupted into shouts and hollers as the alicorn unveiled the mare's purpose.
A successor? Proposterous! Their Empress was infallible, invincible, irreplacable! Fires erupted throughout the city, both in the hearts and in the streets.
It burned bright and fast, and soon the public begrudgingly accepted the soon empress to be, although few of them actually believed such a thing would come to pass, certainly not in their lifetime.
Life's full of surprises, isn't it?
Twilight couldn't help but smirk at the thought.
If anypony told a little filly that lived countless ages ago, that she was one of the most important ponies to ever exist, that the fate of the world would one day rest on her haunches, what would that filly do?
Probably call for her brother to fend off the raving madpony spewing nonsense into his sister's face.
A melancholy smile graced the Empress' lips, one she allowed to linger. Happy memories flooded her mind, reminding her of the importance of her task.
After all, no good ruler leaves their ponies without oversight when they're away.
The amount of effort she's put into this project of hers was monumental, it was perhaps the most daunting task she'd ever worked on.
The question she asked herself all those years ago wasn't simple:
How do you create a god?
Turns out the answer, on the contrary, is quite elementary.
You can't.
Not forcibly, anyways. She could carefully orchestrate the right circumstances for this to occur naturally, but after careful consideration she dissmissed the idea altogether.
While it was true that the world in its current state could theoretically handle one more powerful being, the strain that would put on the already suffering magic resources would make the action pointless.
Besides, if the reports from the northern patrol teams were correct, she didn't have much time anyways. The Crystal Empire, being the world's most magic-intense regions was first to go, and judging by the rumors of a mysterous illness that rendered pegasi incapable of flight and was straight up lethal for unicorns that attempted spellcasting after being infected, ponies were next.
She then asked herself another question:
How do you keep a god alive?
Relic and ritual was the obvious answer, but an ineffective one. It seemed that the usual method of honoring divine beings fell by the roadside sonewhere in the past, as no matter how much chaos her little ponies caused, she detected no magical energies from the deed.
Perhaps feeding the magic via link straight to the source was the solution?
The idea held some merit, but ultimately resulted in a failure. Siphoning additional magic from the enviornment that had a shortage of the stuff wasn't going to fix her problems, it seemed.
At last, the final questioned wormed its way into her mind.
What if you bind a god?
The idea seemed crazy at the time, impossible, even. But the longer she thought about it, the more sense it made. She'd have to tether the Spirit to something alive, and the action would require an sizable amount of magic, but after that the effect lasted as long as the host's species lived.
Furthermore, the used magic wasn't lost, but rather imbued into the creature, allowing it to return into the natural cycle.
After that discovery, Twilight sent out searching for the perfect species to use. Ponies, as well as any sentient being were right out of the question, as the process was rather painfull for everyone involved, as well as required a truly enormous amount of magic. Many a year was spent in research, until she fell upon a truly unexpected discovery.
Whalers were considered a despicable bunch amongst most ponies, and not without cause. Crews consisting of mostly griffons hunted the Leviathans of the deep, piercing their flesh and dragging them atop their trawlers, cutting chunks out of the still living beast until the ships made their way to the docks, and eventually to the slaughterhouses.
It wasn't hard to guess what happened there, the sad song the deep ones sang on their death beds were heard througout the district, but the whole act made even The Empress shiver upon her first entry.
One of the more peculear materials gained from such atrocities was whale oil. While good for stoking a fire, Twilight discovered that even the tiniest spark of magic appllied to the stuff set a chain reaction in motion. The oily substance emmited a light-blue glow as magic was multiplied tenfold within it, proving Whales to be the best candidate to the tethering ritual.
The species was far from endangered, being one of the biggest inhabitants of the deep meant they had little trouble in the way of predators, and even whalers barely put a dent in the beast's population, their trade overshadowed by other, less labor intensive methods of meat aquisition.
She wasn't proud of what she'd done to the poor creature on the coast of Baltimare, but she didn't need to be. The physical part of the ritual was complete, now laid the hard part. It'd take a substantial amount of magic to bind a willing spirit to the mortal plane, much more to bind an unwilling one. The Empress need not think twice to know which was at her disposal.
A faint smile wormed its way onto her face as she mused her solution.
Loopholes.
They always existed, and they always will. Handy things, aren't they?
An ambiguous passage or inediquate phrasing can give a much needed leeway in the way of accoplishing her goal. Silence gives consent, after all.
Resting on the cold, hard marble floor, a shiver went down her spine as she recited the summoning spell, her horn glowing a gentle purple aura.
In a bright flash of light the world around her fragmented, tearing itself apart. Bookshelves toppled and shattered, scattering ancient tomes, and the knowledge therein, into the emptiness below. Quills and sofas hovered over the abyss, the everpresent scratching of the former finally coming to an end. The parts drifted away from eachother, space between them quickly filling with a light blue color.
A whisper greeted her, and she hesitantly cast her gaze on her last friend. It took everything out of her not to flinch. To not scream and cry. To not beg for forgiveness for what she was about to do.
In all her years she hasn't seen a more pathetic creature. Shriveled an withering, barely stading, the only thing that reminded her of her old friend were his eyes.
Those sad, old yellow eyes.
Oh well, the higher they stand...
...The harder they fall.
Did she say that aloud? Judging by the raspy sound that almost resembled a chuckle coming from the Spirit, she did. He stood on top of a staircase made of sofas, a kind, withering smile plastered over his fetures.
She finally came. It could mean only one thing.
She was ready.
Was he?
How ironic.
She nodded firmly, desperately trying to hold back the tears as she ascended the stairs. She dare not look into his eyes, keeping her gaze locked on the velvet fabric of the stairs. Finally, her ascension was complete when her muzzle bumped into his soft coat.
It smelled like a small cottage on a sunny day.
He nuzzled the side of her neck and closed his eyes, oblivious to the steadily growing intensity of her aura around her horn. The spell exploded around them, and the dams burst. She screamed apologies as his form contorted and the air filled with anguish. She begged for forgiveness as he writhed on the velevety fabric, an ennui song of the deep reverberating through the void. Her pleas devolved into incomprehensible babblings as she saw him stand high, like all those years ago.
The Empress abdicated.
And it was his turn to wail.
