The Sun, the Infinite, and the Divine
An anomaly, she bitterly repeated to herself. Again excuses to distract me. Cowards.
Helping, she liked helping, but it was too often that her subjects would act with the cowardness of a new graduate - a least, she heard that stress of this sort would result in something similar. She wasn't sure nor wanted to be.
At any rate, when a messenger came to her, asking for her intervention in inspecting the sudden emergence of a green light in the middle of the Boring Fields, she had to begrudgingly admit that it had tickled her interest. And, a curious of nature, the tale was... surprising. In one thousand years, only two times had she ventured south of Canterlot. Her people were creative indeed, but at times, too painfully literal in their naming conventions. She could not remember when it had started, but it eased with the undressing of character - it has its perks.
Celestia had begun traveling somewhat disguised by a spell that, for all she cared, kept her height clear to all. Coming to a neighboring village, she passed herself as an adventurous traveler and managed to get herself a guide to the emplacement of that mysterious anomaly.
Then, fairly distant from the village, away from any main road, and tired of her disguise, Celestia showed herself fully to her guide. He was rightfully surprised; for most of the time, she had to redirect him toward his task, so awe-struck was he by her appearance and his privileged role. Also immensely proud to have robbed his cousin for taking what was at the time a lucrative but uninteresting offer. Though Celestia requested her presence to be kept secret, she keenly felt it would slip away from him. She knew it but also knew it would not matter. She always thought they spoke too much.
Arriving at the cavern’s entrance, they rested for a while there. It overlooked… grass – never-ending expanses of grass. Nothing particularly interesting that demands great description.
‘Here?’ asked Celestia, trying to look down into the darkness.
She moved her head around in all directions. The guide waited for Celestia to calm herself before answering.
‘Yes, Princess. I’m afraid-’
She resigned in her fruitless attempt. ‘You don’t have to follow. I know your concerns.’ She noticed relief washing away the lingering stress from his face. Guess I’m going alone. ‘Don’t get lost when returning.’
He turned and searched the immense plain for anything that could be of interest. Apart from a distant village confined to a water stream, there was nothing – absolutely nothing. He heard competitive galloping was a popular sport here, and it did not surprise him in the slightest.
Before departing for the cavern, Celestia had wanted to have a quick meal. She did not care about where or how it was made, just that it needed to be good.
It wasn’t. It was bland; no spices or salt. They still ate out of politeness but it was more of a quick succession of big portions to finish a “soup typical of the region”. Out of regional pride, he felt insulted by her attitude back then when she still wore her Unicorn disguise; now he wasn’t sure anymore what to feel about it. And the worst part, he kind of found her manners cute.
‘I really hope it is nothing,’ said Celestia into the wind.
‘Hm?’
‘Don’t tell me you are satiated by… whatever it was.’
He could only answer with a stilted smile, unsure if replying would be impolite or otherwise.
‘Then I promise to offer you something on my return! Whatever you wish for.’
‘Ah… Thank you, Princess. You don’t-’
‘It will be free of charge. Who can object?’
He shrugged, scratched the back of his neck, and turned away from the cavern’s entrance. ‘Thank you, majesty. I’ll be where those houses down there are,’ pointing to which.
‘The village? We have to be polite.’
He smirked. ‘As you wish, Princess.’
She hoped anything would arrive to perturb her venture. There was nothing. If she remembered correctly from a thing Luna once told her, a dragon used to roam freely around the plain. He was not ruinous to the inhabitants or the beauty of the land around – or “beauty”, but she digressed. No village was burned or threatened. But judging by the multitude of emblems and statues depicting dragons in the vicinity of the Boring Fields, the dragon seemed to have only searched for found fame. The cavern’s walls prove it; the protruding rocks had been melted by intense fire. She doubted any creature other than one wanting to showcase its abilities would do such a thing. Or a hidden cult, but those things do not exist and are simply the sprouts of the imagination.
After almost half an hour of wondering why in Tartarus she came here, and – of course – walking in the never-ending straight line the damn cavern was, she entertained herself by remembering the few reading she could engage with. She recalled reading many… texts depicting her in terribly questioning positions. Once she would have decried and admonished the authors, but, in all honesty, she couldn’t care less about what a mind could conjure in the creative space. However she dreaded what they would create in the aftermath of her sister’s return.
A random thought, but one that amused her and filled her with anticipation.
‘Aaahh! Rocks!’ cried Celestia in excitement at the first sight of a stalagmite, leading to a vast room. The stalagmite was half-melted, but still, something to distract her eyes with.
‘A good thing. Now, where is the green stuff? Or thing. Or individual. But most likely a thing because, let us be serious, who in its right mind would stay down here? If my mane was not lighting the way-’ She paused. ‘I am talking to myself. Again.’
‘And what a wonderful voice it is,’ a metallic, ancient, sarcastic voice, bordering on a hiss, came from in front of her.
On instinct, she turned. Her head was then forced back when echoing metallic steps suddenly began deeply resonating, coupled with the sharp chime of a metallic staff. Gradually, slowly, the thing made its way toward her.
Then she saw the dreaded green light. She wanted to retreat and ready herself for a defense against the thing.
She could not move. The air seemed to have turned scant.
The hulking, tall, ornate bipedal figure finally showed itself into her light with smooth, carefully honed majestic movements. ‘Greetings, creature.’
Celestia only saw a skull, two pale green eyes, and unnaturally silvered skin with seemingly azure paint over it that seemed to be constantly shifting; his posture seemingly frozen in a perpetual hunch.
He patiently waited for an answer that never came.
‘I am the Overlord of Solemnace, the Arch-Archivist of the Infinite Empire, He-who-is-called-infinite, the Preserver of Fragmented Memories, Keeper of Last Moments, and many more even your exceptionally long life has not the time to hear them all.’
She stayed silent.
‘No welcome? Disappointed coming from you, Diarch – or monarch, you prefer? Then again, your recorded history showcased a great deal of impoliteness coming from someone in your sublime position.’
She fixated on him. ‘What are you?’
‘I am a “what” for you? Where is the diplomatic prowess you have going?’ He paused and closed in closer to Celestia. ‘I am a necrontyr. A member of the great Nihilak Dynasty, one of the many that form the Infinite Empire. Not my empire – don’t be confused by it.’
‘Great is a relative term,’ another voice came forth; equally metallic, deeper, malign, and calculating – but very much less sarcastic. She expected another bipedal being, but it had come slithering in. A one-eyed creature greeted her own. He wore two dropping horns that tied themselves under an elongated shin. Where his… companion had a perpetual smile to him, that serpent expression was frozen into a perpetual shriek; sharp teeth lining it all over. For all she could understand, it felt like their expressions were sculpted directly onto their face.
‘Do not insert yourself into this, Orikan.’
‘I will,’ he bitterly objected.
‘For someone uninvited, you are very much a pain.’
‘Verify your processor engrams, old fool.’ He pointed a finger to his own head.
They have brains? ‘He has a point,’ laughed Celestia, keeping a smirk up.
Orikan turned his singular eye more directly toward her, unimpressed by yet another organic. ‘Now I see why you have coerced her into coming here, Trazyn. Will you finally inform me of the reason for your silliness?’
‘I figured that since we are trapped here, I can extract as much knowledge as I can from here.' She thought he had just smiled. 'By the way, my dear, this is Orikan the Diviner – a member of the Sautekh Dynasty, perfid Chronomancer of great skill, and obnoxious know-it-all.’
‘I will be content in the fact that you are showing appreciation, Arch-hoarder. I will not let you take anything from that cursed rock.’
Trazyn bowed mockingly.
‘Very altruistic of you,’ said Celestia.
Orikan felt infuriated. ‘It has nothing to do with altruism, Unclean. Every object my precious compatriot takes only makes the timelines ever blurred and tangled. Solemnace is a confusing interweaving warren of shifting timelines as it is. I do not need to factor in the unpredictable tides even one artifact will cause my calculations. Even a pebble would be bothering,’ he cursed.
‘You could simply stop caring and leave my world alone. It would be… pleasant, old friend.’
‘Calculations? You mean spell casting?’
Orikan grunted. ‘I do not expect any of you to comprehend the calculations and intricacies required in the complicated art of chronomancy. Both of you equally.’
‘I cannot deny the first part,’ pointed out Celestia.
Trazyn laughed loudly. ‘She reminds me of you, Orikan!'
He grunted loudly. ‘We could have – easily – infiltrated their primitive libraries and museums instead of staying in that begotten cavern.’
‘Yes, we could be my colleague, although some things would not be mentioned in the history books. Look at their moon, for instance."
‘Something does not make sense about it, and readings return confused and blurry.’
‘Expected from such a world, no?’ Trazyn twirled with his staff a little. ‘I want to uncover the reason for that carving. Many historical texts say it wasn’t there one thousand years ago. I am simply curious. For all praises she is given by her subjects, I am sure censorship is present to some extent. If not cleverly rampant.’
‘Plus, you want to deprive me of your bickering?’ amused Celestia. ‘Please no. It is a refreshing experience, you two are.’
‘Young and relishing new experiences,’ accused Trazyn.
‘I’ve never said I am relishing this.’
‘Of course not, but the underlying sentiment is present. You are still a child in heart, my dear.’ Trazyn blocked transmission from Orikan.
‘I am more than a thousand years old. I can barely remember my childhood – if I had any.’
‘Then you and we are not that different,’ said Orikan. ‘In the beginning, we were not creatures of metal – necrodermis, it is called. We used to be flesh and blood, though heavily impaired by our foul and disgusting sun.’
Her mind raced. What? ‘So you are trying to use me or avenge your fate by punishing me?’
‘It was millions of years ago, Unclean. We have long past mortal concerns.’ The casual mention of the time passed left Celestia stunned. Her body jolted with sporadic laughter.
It is just absurd.
Orikan continued. ‘Anyways, we were cursed by its rays. Every day we would wake up and search for the odd lump on our bodies. And when we found we knew our days were numbered. We used to die young, we wished for immortality to liberate us. Even when we managed to develop the means to travel beyond our cursed star, its effects did not cease following us.’
Trazyn interrupted. ‘We conquered the galaxy under the authority of the Silent King-’
‘Uni- United u-under one?’ stammered Celestia.
‘No, in a fashion. We are ruled by the Triarchs, with the Silent King standing as a voice to the united dynasty who speaks only through the remaining Triarchs. But it doesn’t matter-‘
‘I disagree,’ opposed Orikan. ‘Knowing the old fool, he will get past the important parts.’
‘I'm a historian-’
Orikan waved his words away. ‘We found the Old Ones. They had immortality and we came to them for it. They were impossibly ancient, they were unimpressed by our achievements, and so they had refused our request. We declared war, during which we found the Star Gods.’
‘Cursed be their names.’
The Diviner nodded and turned off Trazyn’s personal sound waves from being detected. ‘Supposedly, they had a vendetta against the Old Ones. They offered us immortality. I was the only descanting voice in the court. I was dragged into the furnaces of bio-transferences in chains. Our bodies were disregarded and our souls were eaten by the Nigthbringer and its kin. We shattered them at the end after our victory against the accursed Old Ones. And now, they are bound to our will, forevermore used as simple tools to give us victory. We could have defeated the Unclean, but why bother when you simply outlive them? And so, we slept for eons. Not all of us, however – Szarekh, Greatest and Last of the Silent Kings-’
‘Odd for a member of the Sautekh would state such a eulogy toward the Silent King,’ violently and mockingly echoed Trazyn, bypassing Orikan’s hearing protection system.
‘The Stormlord will not be too pleased.’ So bitter Orikan was that Celestia tasted the rancid air.
‘Fine, fine, fine. I will stay quiet.’ The constant smile looked more prominent somehow.
‘Szarekh,’ continued Orikan, ‘the Last of the Silent Kings-’
‘Much better. Very much in character.’ He applauded with one hand, the other still grasping his staff.
‘Shut it,’ warned the Diviner. Trazyn mimicked a snort. ‘His Majesty parted our galaxy and ventured into the intergalactic void. There he stayed for – according to your interpretation of time – sixty-five million years. Only recently had he returned to us. To, for what arrived into my grasp, assist his people to fight off a great enemy. If the pest around was not enough of a disturbance.’
Celestia’s pupils widened and her heart raced at the sheer impossibility of their race, of their ruler, and of their look. ‘Wha-’ She swallowed her spit. ‘What k-kind,’ she puffed loudly. Trazyn cleaned himself from her foul bodily liquid, attempting to show her his intense dislike with grand movements, ‘of enemies you face?’
‘Nothing that can stand against the glory of the Infinite Empire. Your world, for instance, is nothing but a backwater that would take us less than an hour to conquer. Though you would be totally not of use to us. You are weak and foul. We have the technology to snuff stars – suns – out of existence with little to no effort. As well that we can also recreate them if we wish to. We can move planets and stars – rearrange them as we please. The material realm is our domain and we are its undisputed masters, creature.’
‘Typical.’ The Diviner crossed his arms together, knowing he could not shut Trazyn up without his full knowledge of the bizarre physics of that word. ‘Too many to tell. The Great Devourer and cursed Orks are just part of them. They are nigh never-ending hordes, which – the more I think of it – is what the Imperium of Man is. Only the Eldar have anything equating to true civilization. Though they have doomed themselves – they are a dying race, withering slowly and surely with the wind.
‘All races are withering,’ added Orikan. ‘Only the Infinite Empire will stand at the end.’
Celestia’s eyes widened even more as her imagination churned at the notion of what “the Great Devourer” might be. Part of her wanted to know, but she forcibly shelved that desire. ‘You… You are not real… Your existence is impossible…’
Orikan moved closer into the light of her mane. He put a metallic hand on one of her shoulders, sending shudders all over the Alicorn’s relatively weak frame – he could break her bones with but a pinch. It was cold, unnaturally so. She almost forgot how to breathe.
‘Is that unreal for you?’ the serpent softly whispered.
Instinctively, she closed her eyes and let her horn ignite.
Orikan swiftly retreated. A lychguard moved to block the incoming shock wave, raising its shield and power spear to behead Celestia.
The concentrated blast of magical energy destroyed the lychguard and destabilized the systems of four others as she heard their frames drop.
Celestia opened her eyes and saw Trazyn’s body lying unmoving on the ground.
Seconds later, she saw him exit from the darkness, his metallic frame amid a transformation. Still stunned, she could not comprehend what had just occurred. It must have been a dream, she reassured herself. A nightmare, she dared to add.
‘I require more to be killed, my dear,' said Trazyn, in a voice that first wasn't quite his own, impaired by the slowly dissipating taint of another.
Orikan emerged from his hiding place, his staff glowing in intense light.
‘H-how?’
‘It was only a surrogate body,’ answered the Infinite.
‘B-but I’ve killed it-’
‘You incapacitated four, yes,' he answered like a scientist impressed by the results of his experiments. 'But they will live. They are being rebuilt as we speak. Your benighted powers are mighty but our technology is far more so.’
‘Indeed,’ rasped Orikan. ‘Your dementia is quite potent, but nothing like a well-placed slash of the blade. Now, divulge your demented people’s history for that mad fool here, and let us get over with it and never return to this place.’
She started laughing.
Orikan swung his staff, stopping close to slicing Celestia’s throat. She could not help but look down at the vibrating emerald, the sun-like shape of the bladed edges. It was unnaturally perfect, with no accidental dent or misplaced carving. It hued in perfect, harmonious pulses. A melody that almost made her vomit.
Celestia felt it pressing down on her neck; not cold, not hot, and not pulsing. She clenched her teeth. She wanted to scream. She wanted someone to deliver her from their imprisonment.
At that moment, the noticed the silence of the cave. In that silence, she finally heard the pulses. She heard the roar of an enthralled beast, muffled by incredible wards.
Those things are real. She repeated to herself. They... live. For some damn reason, they live!
They are millions of years old. They fought and enslaved gods. They could not be killed. Celestia wanted to resign at the complete absurdity of the situation – to just laugh at it. In that millennium, she always referred to herself as going ever so slightly madder and unhinged, it would be fitting to end like that. But she had to be there for her sister, for Cadance, and for everyone.
And even if not mentioned, she was certain they hated her based solely on association. Better answer that Infinite’s demand than to play around with them. Her sister was not long due for a return. She had to answer.
Abruptly, Celestia’s vision almost crumbled into total darkness. Her head slumped, and a gnawing pain gawked in the back of her skull.
She felt hollow – almost empty. Like she had been deprived of- like robbed of her soul. Her magic was drained almost completely. She felt impossibly weak.
Everything was cold now. She could no longer see. Her mind began to shut down.
Her mane started faltering, losing all its glimmer.
‘Black stone,’ stated Orikan, wanting to assess her reaction.
'Adjust intensity. You are killing her now,’ urged Trazyn.
Orikan obliged. Better hear her speak than have to endure an eternity of constant accusations by Trazyn. If anything, he was a determined fellow. And Orikan could not decide if he hated or appreciated him for it.
Celestia swallowed her spit. She cleaned her lips, mortified to answer her capturers. At every breath, her body twitched – from fear or an unnoticed injury inflected, she did not want to know. An old feeling enveloped her, one she had sought to have put aside – Celestia felt terribly alone.
‘Raise your head and speak,’ ordered Orikan. ‘Let us get done with that masquerade.’
Trazyn nodded.
Celestia reluctantly followed the Diviner’s orders. ‘W-well should-’ she coughed three coarse coughs. ‘Where should I start?’
‘When the “arch-enemy” invaded.’
‘E-excuse me?’ she forced a weary smile.
Trazyn emitted a deep sigh. ‘The leader of your equivalent to the Black Legion of the Warmaster of Chaos Undivided, Abaddon the Despoiler. Ugh! Somehow, against my heroic intervention, the galaxy still managed to be divided by his petty actions.’ He shook his head.
‘Th-the ga-galaxy was split? B-b-by wh-what?’
‘By chaos – what a bad student you must have been. According to our universe’s determination of it, of course. So do not concern yourself, my dear.’ He sat down next to Celestia. Trazyn finally stood equal to her height. It incensed Celestia for a reason that eluded her. She managed to stay calm, however. ‘Speak. I will see if tea can be made for you. You know about tea?’
Celestia nodded like a scared child.
‘With or without sugar?’
She began to nod; she stopped short. ‘No s-sug…’
‘Good! It will be prepared. Now, speak. Make it quick and succinct, Princess Celestia.’
****
Luna kept nodding in quick succession. She examined Celestia’s expression, looking at her with worried eyes. ‘Are you okay?’
A smile twitched. ‘Yes. Yes, I am.’
‘Sister… I am not sure you are being truthful.’
Celestia played with her lips, turning her gaze away. ‘Later… We can talk later.’
Luna firmly nodded. ‘Noted.’
Celestia grumbled.
‘Not straying too much from the topic at hoof – how long did you make the boy wait for his free meal?’
‘Seven hours. Not my finest moment, I have to admit.’
‘One day, you will embarrass yourself even more, believe me.’ Luna laughed to herself. ‘If there is one good thing about the story – and I mean the only good thing...’
‘You can say it. It is in the past now.’
‘Oh no, no, no – I know that excuse coming from you. It is definitely not the case.’ She butted her. ‘At any rate, it was a good thing someone put you down from your height.’
A reply stayed on Celestia’s tongue, but only a laugh exited.
Luna joined her. ‘Are you okay now?’ she asked again.
‘Yes, don’t worry. I mean, why would I not be? You are here now. I am satisfied with that fact alone.’
Luna embraced her.
‘The Nightbringer,’ murmured Luna into Celestia’s ear. ‘I feel like meeting that thing. I won’t state my reason for it, however.’
‘No, no, no. No! The Nightbringer is the embodiment of fear itself. They told me even mindless machines were terrified of him.’
‘Not that far from reality, no?’ smirked Luna.
Celestia let go of her, silently moving away from Luna.
‘It doesn’t matter now,' Luna attempted to salvage. 'By the way – I should teach you how to tell a story properly.’
‘I’m not that bad – no? Plus, I don’t really like beginnings.’
‘And I don’t like endings, but you don’t see me finishing a story-’
