The Gray Dames

"They shall be my finest warriors, these mares who give of themselves to me. Like clay I shall mould them and in the furnace of war I shall forge them. They shall be of iron will and steely sinew. In great armour I shall clad them and with the mightiest weapons shall they be armed. They will be untouched by plague or disease; no sickness shall blight them. They shall have such tactics, strategies, and magic that no foe will best them in battle. They are my bulwark against the Evil. They are the Defenders of Harmony. They are my Battlehorns...and they shall know no fear."

***

Celestia’s steps echoed with a metallic ring. The rumbling of the closing door filled the air again until it locked in place with a stony crunch. After a heartbeat in absolute darkness, a sudden rush of magic lit the hoof-sized, flame-shaped crystals on the walls. Seemingly spontaneously, they caught fire and provided the princess with a soft light, but enough to see the rough stone walls and the metallic grill the cave had for the floor. A spiral staircase at the end of the cave, only twenty paces from the entrance, went further down.

Thin steps forced her to control her hooves, careful not to slip on them. Celestia submitted herself to the narrow downward path without complaint. She bent her body and minded her horn wouldn’t smack at the wall of magically carved, smoothed stone. The stone wall surrounding the staircase had been lined with more of the flame-crystals and she thanked them for the light under her breath, but a million thoughts flooded her mind.

“One for every hundred thousand of them…” she whispered to herself. “The ghosts of the past care little for reasons or justice, much less for reparations or excuses.”

She wouldn’t dare count them, but she followed the steps down. Her clopping hooffalls on the metal followed her like the beating of a marching drum. Images of countless creatures haunted her every time she blinked. In that place for the dead, her beloved consort’s brown eyes insisted on accusing her of letting him to die for the sake of those accursed griffons. She kept her eyes open as much as she managed.

A fire rose inside her and she quickened her steps, drumming on the metal like orders to charge. The clanking of steel and pained and furious cries hailed from thousands of years ago. The crushing sound of boulders launched from traditional siege engines and the incessant pounding of magical artillery spells all pounded at her head. She focused on her steps, else the noises of battles in the past would drown her thoughts.

Eventually, the smooth stone changed into stone blocks and at the end of the grueling parade of dead visages, the steps ended. Her hooves reached a naked stone floor at the base of a slim tower which shielded the stairway. She exited it through an open archway where two more flame-crystals provided their soft light. The feeling on her hooves and the sound readily evidenced the change into that most valued of stones, the marble.

The cold air stirred. Powerful magic in movement caused an impossible breeze. Standing with her head high in the shade, Celestia’s horn lit with golden light and, far above, a flash of magical light manifested. It flooded the hall when a giant crystal hanging from the ceiling came alight. Celestia’s magic covered it like the Sun itself at her command and the room immediately warmed.

Pure milky marble covered the floor and reflected the light from the crystal orb. Tall pillars rose from the floor, covered in the same white and spirals of gold climbed them in reflective spirals, casting their own light. Six pillars on each side held a ceiling painted like the clearest blue skies. Twelve of them, each pair flanked a giant marble statue of an imposing unicorn mare.

Each tall as a three-story house, their own white stone held similar golden swirls. Their massive limbs moved with an impossible grace and filled the room with the grating of stone against stone while their horns shone with the same golden light as Celestia’s magic. They rose from their sitting position to stand proudly, heads up high, and their massive golden lances floated before them. Their steps echoed in the hall like a cannonade followed by the booming of their weapons, hitting the floor to salute the alicorn.

The walls behind held endless green fields eternalized, along with images of happy ponies, dragons, yaks, and every creature in the world. Green land and blue skies, filled with pegasi, hippogriffs and griffons. Kirins, zebras, diamond dogs… Every creature in Equestria, and even the changelings. Cities stood in the distance while seas and mountains made the horizon. It all converged on the painting at the end of the hall, guarded by the massive stone mares and their golden lances.

A vast mural showed Celestia sitting in the center, wearing a radiant armor of golden sunlight. Her leg wrapped around the pole of an Equestrian flag. Next to her, a gray unicorn had a long silvery beard, a blue cape, and a pointed hat. He held a golden staff with a star. A literal ball of light.

Flanking the two were twelve unicorn mares. As tall as Celestia herself, six on each side, and each of them a different color. Purple, tan, aquamarine, cyan, green, white, black, yellow, orange, pink, magenta, and deep blue. Below them, a sea of rainbow colors in the shape of a million unicorn mares covered the wall all the way to the floor. Elegant horns and powerful bodies beneath the leaf-shaped plates of their armors. In the foreground, one of each color held banners showing the colors of their respective legions and the cutie mark of their matriarchs. The grimness of their eyes seemed unnatural in pony faces, although little about them had been pony-like.

Nestled inside the painting, a massive golden door waited. Well-placed cuts in its gilded exterior made visible the complex clockwork of gears inside. Closed, they joined two sides of an image. Painted reliefs of pegasus foals, blowing horns, playing harps, and simply flying around jubilantly. Two pairs of them held long white banners bearing words in the old language of the Diarchy of Equestria.

OMNIA SOL TEMPERAT PVRVS ET SVBTILIS, NOVO MVNDO RESERAT LENIS PLVVILIS

AD AMOREM PROPERAT ANIMVS EQUIIS ET IOCVNDIS IMPERAT DEA SOLIS

Celestia resumed her steps, each of them echoing in the gigantic chamber. Eventual clicking told her the ancient arcane machinery had suffered some dings through the centuries. It still resisted, and even without it, the opulence of that cavernous room would cause the representatives in the Hall of Friendship to have seizures were they to see it. The sum of resources used to build that, if corrected to present times, made Celestia’s head spin. Those really were different times.

Celestia’s brow wrinkled. In the present days, she had trouble getting senators and majesties to agree that schools needed functioning kitchens and well-paid teachers. Unless it was during elections. Then she could get them to approve anything.

What would Matriarch Grimoire say?

The princess stopped in her tracks and threw her head, laughing. The old crone would complain that Celestia messed everything up. Then she would storm the Hall of Friendship with a hooffull of centurii and leave everyone waiting while she went for her afternoon nap.

Before the pillars, the long banner of each legion still hung like the day the artist hung them. A purple background behind the flame-shaped leaf of the tree all ponies had forgotten, with the magenta star of the First Legion in the foreground. The motif repeated on all twelve banners. The color which represented the Legion, the leaf of the trees of Green Harbor, where it all began, and the cutie mark of their original matriarchs which repeated itself with minor variation in the cutie marks of all her daughters and sons.

The concept of such close-knitted families was alien to Equestria of the present. It would never cross the minds of modern parents that their foals couldn’t marry outside of the vassal families because it would dilute the magical potency of their blood. That their little foals couldn’t play because they must follow a rigorous training regime. They ought to be brought up to where they could spell-cast in coordination with others such complex and powerful spells as to rip apart a fortification. That they could summon the magic from another pony and make their own spells so powerful Matriarch Grimoire ruled only one thousand of them could be left in the same place. Unicorn mares so powerful any larger number could damage reality just by standing there.

So much changed, and for the better. Just being there made her ears go limp and filled Celestia’s blood with a cold, ominous feeling of defeat. The modern world was no place for ponies like those.

And that was the point of the mural. This time, Celestia shouldered the shock when the ancient memories assaulted her waking mind a second time. Instead of a sewer-soaked coat, linen and weaved golden thread covered her pristine white. Her head held radiant beams of sunlight for headdress, and she sat in that same hall thousands of years ago.

Colorful ponies and scaffolds filled the room. The new magical lights helped workers see in the underground darkness. Although, ‘new’ was a relative term as the flame-crystals mimicked torches when the actual modern magical lights provided a clear white light. The clacking of hammers and tools echoed while foreponies talked to artists, architects and magi over tables covered in plans and schematics. The almost painted mural on the back wall covered all the arcane machinery that made that place special beyond the significance of the painting.

Closer to the entrance, several tents served as a temporary home for all the ponies who worked on that project. A pile of supplies for the project and workers had formed closer to the entrance tower. Everything the foreponies anticipated the workers would need. From food and water to paints, tools, and replacement parts. Even then, special supplies still had to be hauled down the stairs.

A pair of the prodigious mares looked at the painting on the back wall. They wore bright white togas covering their tan coats. Their exuberant manes lost some of its shine to the passing of years, but most of their otherworldly beauty was not diminished, much less the might of their powerful bodies or the elegance of their long horns. They distracted Celestia, who sat by the massive clockwork door.

“Hey! I found myself!” One of them tap-danced happily on the marble, snout glued to the painting on the wall.

“No, you did not.” The other scowled. “These represent the Legions, not individual mares. Only the Matriarchs are supposed to be recognizable. It’s like we are all part of a whole rather than individuals.”

“Well, this is me! Maybe a painter saw me and took inspiration!” The first retorted happily, tapping the mural with her hoof. “Look! Look!”

“Idiota.” All the other did was roll her eyes. “Stop it, you will ruin the painting!”

Celestia allowed herself a small smile, watching their minor argument until approaching hooves clopped on the marble and distracted her again. The Archmage left the stone tower which connected to the outside world. He panted and approached her slowly, almost dragging his white beard on the floor.

“You deserve this. It was your idea that it should have three thousand steps. I agree with the teleportation wards, but I wanted a magical lift.”

An old pony approached her, slightly more than dragging his hooves. His face barely held any of his youthful enthusiasm for life anymore. Even at his old age, Star Swirl had a passion for living, but time eventually caught up to him. Yet he never let go of the same Discord-cursed hat with the irritating bells. A heartbeat later, Celestia stood next to him, letting Star Swirl rest his old body against her legs and the golden folds of her toga picta. All the annoyance of being summoned to that place evaporated from her.

“It is amazing, is it not?” His head swayed softly while he scanned the entire hall.

“It is fitting.”

He looked up at Celestia. “Ah. It is a shame we cannot put it for other ponies to appreciate. That it is such a private party. That Grimoire could not live to see it finished.”

“She saw something much more important finished.” Celestia frowned softly.

“True that.” The old pony nodded, and little bells tinkled. “That is what I wanted to see you here about.”

Celestia’s hoof pointed at the golden door. “Did you order the smiths to do that to the poor door?”

“I designed it myself! Same as the stairway. And the locking mechanism. I am quite proud, actually!” With his strength recovered and a chuckle, the old pony hauled his own weight. He walked towards the large, contraption-filled doors. Celestia followed while letting her eyes escape to the two toga-wearing mares scrutinizing the tan colored mares in the painting.

“Countless ponies. Creatures without end will be born from this day forward. Already, most of the younglings do not understand what was required so they could live free, happy lives. That is why this is here.”

“They will never come here to see the mural, Star Swirl.” Celestia pulled her ears back. “Nor this asinine vandalism you did to the doors. And fortunately, they will not have to suffer through the staircase either.”

“It is not for them, Celestia.” He kept staring at the mural and never looked at her. “If anypony other than you ever makes it here, something went wrong.”

“Do you imply I will forget?” Celestia let her voice raise. “I cannot close my eyes and not see Cherry’s eyes when that vicious hen ran her through. Or the looming white of northern Griffonia. The fear in the eyes of the slaves and the bloody obsidian of the sacrificial chambers in Aen Hader! I wish I could destroy that accursed place more than once!”

Star Swirl shook his head softly and lowered his eyes. “No. I know you will not. But one day, you may need to walk down these steps. One step, for every hundred thousand lives lost. Each step, such an elementary thing for you, but three hundred thousand of them, narrow and steep.”

Celestia pursed her lips, and Star Swirl sat on the marble floor. He opened his forelegs as the workers had stopped working to stare at them, and the bells on his cape ringed. “And when you arrive, your magic will light the Sun. The sentinels will salute you. And the Matriarchs of the Twelve Legions will stare at you from the past.”

He neglected to say he too would, but Celestia knew better than to interrupt that pony.

“You may never forget. But seeing them, and the lush green of the Equestrian Heartland… All the merry creatures, and the mighty Sun above… You will be mindful of it.” He showed a happy, tired smile and chuckled. “I suppose we knew their job was complete once the governors started complaining of paying for all the industry behind the Legions.”

“Well, it is over. Their job is complete. The times of suffering have ended. All the lands united under the Sun in jubilant celebration of Harmony. The Unicorn Kings are gone. The Griffon Scourge has ended. Dangerous beasts of Chaos roam the land no more. Equestria is safe!”

“The powerful Matriarchs pass away serenely, one after the other, and no more Matriarchs should rise. Their daughters lay down their weapons and armor of solar steel to become bakers, carpenters, teachers, masons, painters, farmers… Their arcane might will return to where it belongs. Their powerful magic will dilute among the population of Equestria.”

“It is as you commanded. The colors and symbols of the Twelve Legions will vanish into the past to give way to a new world of joy and Harmony. Our massive thaumatonite mines have already closed and the solar forges were dismantled for magical components. The matriarchs released the vassal families of their bonds. Mine and forge cities already prosper as ponies, released of their duty, turn their vast knowledge and experience to civilian life. Already foals grow to cutie marks of colorful candies and farmers’ tools rather than their family crests. Equestria has not only conquered its past, but She has also earned a future! And the entire world follows in her wake.”

The old magus sat again, resting his forehooves on the marble before turning to Celestia. “Only one relic of this time will remain.”

“Actually, I have a sister…”

The old pony’s eyes went wide and blinked twice. “Quite right. Ah… But Luna wants nothing to do with this. She has understood very well the brilliant mare that she is. And I am talking about this place. Not you or your sister.”

“Sure, you are.” Celestia gave him a smirk.

“The point is,” Star Swirl frowned, “after you have walked three thousand steps. One for every hundred thousand creatures whose lives the war has claimed, so we could stop Emperor Grigor. You will face them.”

His hoof pointed at the painting of Celestia herself and his own visage. Of the twelve powerful, brave, and honored mares, each followed by thousands upon thousands of lives sacrificed for that future. “They will ask you… Is it worth it? After three thousand steps. Is opening this door worth it?”

A moment of marked silence passed. Only Star Swirl’s clopping steps on the marble floor echoed on the walls. Celestia followed him only with her eyes as he walked around another clockwork contraption built into the floor, like a caseless watch embedded into the marble. All gold, complex into minutia such as rods, thin as a mane’s hair and one thousand cogs. The encasing frame had a bar in front of the ensemble of the machine, and it had a niche in the center.

“If you come here, and after three thousand steps, and under the eyes of the Matriarchs, mine and your own, decide that opening this door is worth it…” He pulled a dagger from under his cape. Not a normal dagger, but made of sunlight-saturated solar steel. So much gold the dagger would bend if used on anything other than exposed flesh, but would keep its sharpness for a thousand million years. Holding it with his leg, Star Swirl shoved the blade into the niche in the mechanism and it locked in place.

His eyes found hers again. “If it is worth opening this door, then your blood will be the first to be spilled.”

Celestia found herself alone in the hall again. Her old master was gone. The happy warrior mares vanished. All the surrounding activity had remained in the past. Not even any remnant of the small camp remained. The only thing with her was the soreness in her legs, the filth on her coat, a golden dagger on the floor and thousands of eyes looking down at her from the mural around the clockwork doors. The cold air stirred with magic. Spells hummed inside the stone sentinels. The arcane machinery behind the walls clicked and whirred. Celestia’s heart thumped. Air rushed in and out of her flared nostrils.

The dagger, after one million nights, waited. Cold, shimmering under the light, it waited for Celestia in the same place Star Swirl had left it.

From the sunlight infused grip, Celestia’s eyes jumped to find the ancient, purple coated Matriarch Grimoire Sparkle of the First Legion depicted in the mural. She sat right next to her in the mural, wearing her white toga with the red strip instead of her armor. Grimoire was already ancient by the time Celestia met her. Nopony was sure how old she was, but her oldest daughter had resigned to the fact she would never get to command the First Legion, and that was a running joke with the entire military. Star Swirl respected the mare with no bounds, and she even put Celestia in her place a few times.

Star Swirl had taught young Celestia how to channel magic through her horn. From willing a glass of water to float to her, to casting complex spells that required all her focus. From complex puzzles, to complex wards and summoning rites. How to talk like an educated pony, and even how to write. How to speak different languages and how to behave. He made the dirty street urchin into a queen.

Grimoire had taught the young, skinny alicorn to light her horn with magic and rip apart the ramparts between her and her enemy, how to fight with magic, and how to kill efficiently. From sword and shield held in a telekinetic grasp, to wielding her immense power and shaping it into a tool of destruction. But more than that, she had taught Celestia how to talk to the soldiers and to motivate them. In the times of war, she taught how to measure the needs of the people and of the military. She made Star Swirl’s politically savvy queen into a warrior goddess worshiped by ponies, venerated by soldiers, and feared by enemies.

At the end of her life, there barely was any purple left in her mane, but she lived through it all, and when it was all done, Grimoire passed away peacefully in the Sparkle Estate. Her daughters, the Siegecasters, went from tearing apart fortifications, griffons, and monsters to teaching foals the principles of magic and engineering. They built the greatest mansions and palaces that saw themselves all the way to Griffonstone. But to the present days, Celestia still shivered at the whispers of their immeasurable power to be found in their distant descendants.

Next to her was the tan Matriarch Cherry Flameheart of the Fourth Legion, eyes fixated on Celestia as she approached the dagger on the floor. Celestia’s first lover died in the Battle of All Armies. The Imperial Princess, and Swordmaiden of the Harpy, Gythia, impaled the mare with her enchanted dancing sword in the opening moves of the battle. Celestia was busy helping the Diamond Dogs fight off a flood of frostmane wraiths the griffons had unleashed on the valley leading to their fortress-city. When she saw it, Cherry had already fallen into the bloody snow, barely moving at all.

Her legion, ‘The Kind-Hearted’, always minded the non-combatants first. When the earlier war against Chaos reached the Capital, they gladly threw their lives away so that a few more civilians could reach the safety of the Citadel. When Discord almost ended the world during those times, Star Swirl and his friends held Equestria from falling apart. The Flamehearts assisted them with all of their heart, but most of all, they protected the peasants from the excesses of the nobles. Even in their diminished state, they shielded the destitute from the wrath of Bluebloods and Brightmanes. Young Celestia might not have survived to reach her Destiny was it not for them.

Years of witnessing privilege and callousness turned them into fierce avengers of the destitute. When the war with the Griffon Empire started, back to their full strength, they hunted down and captured every single one of the Emperor’s vassals with a righteous fury far above duty. But when the war ended, and their service ended, their descendants became Equestria’s first law enforcers while the new system matured.

A soft gasp escaped the princess, and her ears fell limp on the sides of her head. Almost as though they had a will of their own, her eyes scanned the mural with the unicorn mares flanking herself and Star Swirl. Every single one of them represented so many of the exceptional mares the mural was supposed to remember. Some of them couldn’t even make it to the end of the war with the griffons. Every single one of them had a story, and a story with Celestia, and if she allowed herself to linger on memories… Time was a luxury she simply didn’t have.

Celestia’s hoof encroached on the dagger’s hilt. Her leg refused to move. Immortal Celestia and Luna left behind powerful allies and loyal friends. The weight of the past, with all the suffering they endured in the war against the Griffon Empire, numbed her thoughts with images of countless dead and dying creatures. Among those, the dead warrior mares weighed the most.

They were not mere lifeless, unmoving bodies. Each one of them evoked images of beautiful mares wearing pristine white togas, saluting Celestia as she walked by a formation, or on their camps. Huddled around the fires, under the snowfall of Snow Mountains or the unbearable heat of the desert.

Their eyes would not leave Celestia’s mind. The devotion. The surrender. She was more than their commander or their queen. Celestia represented something to them that ponies in the present just didn’t feel anymore. They didn’t remember how ponykind felt about Celestia. It was something she had, herself, vied to extinguish. Time had moved on and the social structure of that time became unnecessary. It had ceased to be useful and started impeding progress, and even Celestia diminished herself. She tried to be what ponies needed her to be. It was a change for the better, but now she stood at the brink of bringing back to life ghosts that might not be welcome anymore.

Celestia firmed her cannon around the dagger’s hilt and took a deep breath. The more she dallied, the more she allowed memories to return, the worse it would be. Still, the eyes of the mares on the painting seemed to reflect upon the golden hilt, accusing Celestia of having herself alone reaped the benefits.

But finding Star Swirl in there sunk her heart. He trusted her. All his life, he believed her. When her heart became engulfed in darkness, he waited for her to come to her senses. When she left to fight a war on foreign lands, he and his friends watched over her sister and her lands. He and the ponies he surrounded himself with became her eyes when atrocities happened on griffon lands. Star Swirl always stayed at her side. Even his last great work was a lesson for Celestia thousands of years later.

Yes, she must open that door. It may as well be the world’s only chance of surviving the dangers to come. And she, Princess Celestia, was the only one who could open it. In fact, it was her duty more than a right. And in his last words, Star Swirl had entrusted her with that.

That mental battle with herself dragged on too long already! Celestia raised both legs, holding the dagger in her right, and turned her left so she could cut it above her cannon. She grasped the dagger, but it shook with her wavering limbs. Star Swirl had counseled her against her ultimate decision to erase the records of the Battlehorn Legions and of Grigor’s Empire from history. Even if Grover adamantly agreed, eager to be rid of the Cult of the Harpy. Had she acted in the wrong? Was she worthy of opening that door? After she failed so phenomenally to help the griffons? Had she wasted all that those twelve excellent mares helped her achieve?

Oh, Harmony sweetest! What had she done? Celestia looked up at that mural and saw only her failure staring back at her. What was it for?

Her old friends still stared at her from the mural above the golden door. They never failed to follow her command, but had Celestia been entirely worthy of their devotion? Was she worthy now? After all the things she put them through. Following all the sorrow she gave them and their foals. After all the colts that couldn’t fit the ranks of the Battlehorns, all the fillies that failed and found themselves relegated to the auxiliary forces. Sun above… All the deaths. The gruesome deaths of those under her command.

Celestia had relegated all their triumphs, failures, challenges, and ordeals into a past which no longer existed. She lied to their descendants for the sake of saving her utopia. All they did, she brushed it under the carpet. None in the world remembered any of what those most excellent of mares and their families did for Equestria. It had seemed such a simple and necessary thing. Ultimately, Celestia used and explored them before she got rid of them. Some of them didn’t even survive to the end.

Twilight and Cadance were right! Celestia had lied to them. Was she even worthy of her position anymore? But she had no choice. Otherwise, the world would not have survived! The Black Sun would have consumed everything had she not lied about their past. Had she allowed Grover’s eagerness to justify her decision? Fortunate was that griffon, he died without understanding the depth of their ploy.

In the end, was it worth it? The Harpy returned, despite all her efforts. Despite all the lies, Celestia covered herself and the past under. Despite all the records she destroyed. All the times she stood next to Grover’s statue and lied barefaced that the Griffon Empire never existed. That griffons had never worshiped the Harpy. That no war had happened. It was so easy; all it took was time and mortals forgot. They accepted her version.

To rub salt upon that wound, Celestia should have listened to Grover, that the Harpy was real, and that she had been counseling the Emperor. But how could she have known? There was no evidence, no signs. She never found more than an empty sanctum in Aen Hader.

They forgot everything. The monsters whipping the slaves, and the ponies abusing their power. King Sombra was the only one whose memory remained. Even so, legends engulfed most of his wickedness. All hidden beneath Celestia’s wings, along with the stories of the cruelest war ever. All changed to fairy tales of the cute princesses who came out of nowhere and took control of the Sun and the Moon. Even the sacrifices made by Star Swirl’s friends, those gallant ponies who helped her keep Equestria united. All hidden away. Sanitized. Made into an easy to enjoy little story.

Never mind the morality of her decision. Has it really worked?

All of Celestia’s friends abandoned her. Because of what she did, Twilight and Cadance rejected her. The Bearers of the Elements of Harmony turned from her. The griffons, who she tried so hard to save, denounced her. She failed to help them, and now… They were all at the Harpy’s mercy.

She should have listened to Star Swirl! Now things slipped out of her control. Could she even hope to destroy the Harpy now? Twilight and Cadence played into the Harpy’s plans and were bound to uncover all Celestia’s lies and unwillingly condemn the world to end. Another cycle to end, condemning them to repeat it all over again for a seventeenth time. Except there may not be a next cycle. The Harpy may have already beaten Celestia, and not even because of her own skill and resourcefulness. Celestia may have delivered the world on a gold platter to the Harpy.

The dagger fell from her grasp. It clacked on the marble twice until it settled on the floor. Her breath came in airless sobs, and she held her hooves against her face. When she looked again, the mural had twisted into a nightmarish sequence of desiccated mares; they scowled at Celestia with empty eyes and the velvety tan of Cherry’s chest had been stained with dark red around a terrible, half-frozen wound of black flesh and splintered bone.

“You took me to the coldest place in the world to die!” The mare’s once snappy voice screamed at the white alicorn. “You rewarded my love with death at the tip of the sword of a filthy griffon whore!”

“I am sorry!” Celestia’s voice came out a broken sob and her hooves trembled in abject terror. It could not be real, but it was. “I did the best I could! I didn’t want the war, but Grover would have failed without help! Then the Empire would have been too powerful! We were the only ones who could help him!”

She received nickers and angry neighs from the twelve mares on the painting, her apology rejected. Bloody and deep gashes teared open the flesh in another’s aquamarine neck. Exposed bones were covered with dark splotches of coagulated blood and her teared trachea bloomed with a pink foam as she screamed at Celestia with a horrible gurgling. “You used us! My daughters drowned in the dark ocean, far from home, fighting the Kirin fleets. We did everything you demanded of us, and that is how you have repaid us! We died for you, and our reward was oblivion.”

Celestia stepped away, but Star Swirl’s friends came from behind her, surrounding her, following the bearded pony in a parade of bony ponies and disarranged beards and manes. Star shook his head sadly, speaking with a tired, old voice. “I told you so, Celestia. It was a mistake. Why would you not listen to me?”

Sitting to the floor with a scared gasp, Celestia found none of the friendship and camaraderie which always filled the eyes of those ponies. Flash Magnus, Somnambula, all of them surrounded her with angry steps. The beautiful blue earth pony, Meadowbrook, pointed a bony, desiccated hoof at her. “You sacrificed us to your ego!”

“No!” Celestia screamed and covered herself with her great white wings stained with wastewater and gunk. “I had to! I wanted ponies to have another chance! You don’t understand!”

“You sure benefited from all them lies, though, didn’t you, Princess?” Applejack’s voice reached Celestia, but she dared not look.

“You lied to us!” Twilight screamed at her, walking closer and next to the purple and golden griffon she had become friends with. But he said nothing, only watching as Twilight accused Celestia. “How could you? The Battlehorn Legions deserved to have their stories told! All the failures of the Founding Ponies and the sacrifices of the Pillars of Equestria! Everycreature should know of those! We lost important lessons because you wanted all for yourself!”

“What of the sacrifices of thousands of northerner griffons, Celestia?” Finally, the griffon spoke too. “The blood of my people keeps southern Griffonia safe while you poison my brethren with your pony food and way of life. Griffonia belongs to Mother Harpy.”

Celestia’s voice came out a desperate bawl. “I wanted to save them from the Harpy!”

“You held me back!” Cadance accused her from behind, before she could even respond and caused Celestia to turn around in a panic. “You didn’t want me to know my power! About what I am. About who I am! You wanted it all for yourself!”

“I did it to protect you! You didn’t need to know! The truth will only bring you pain!” Celestia tried touching Cadance’s face, but her furious glare made her backpedal. Breathing fast and shallow, wide eyes and ears hanging from her head, Celestia tried talking to her, but her lungs lacked the wind.

“And they call me a liar.” Chrysalis, the changeling queen, sauntered behind Twilight and Cadance, staring at Celestia. Her regal gaze turned to an arrogant grin. “Tell them, Celestia. Tell them about the Children of the Sun. What happened to Queen Farfalla? Tell all of us about the Changeling Curse and who Daffodil was.”

“You were once the most important pony in my life, but you are a filthy liar! How many more lies?” Twilight accused with a hoof and flared her wings. Her hoof struck the floor, terrible like the mallet of a judge with every phrase. “That is barely the beginning! The Battlehorns. The Cult of the Harpy. The Cult of the Alicorn Goddesses. The Republic. The Windigos. The Old Unicorn Kings. The Palace of the Self. The Black Sun and the repeating cycles of the universe! Chocolate Velvet’s origin. How many more lies, Celestia?!”

“It was for your own good!” The white alicorn tried to distance herself from the accusing creatures and reproachful images on the wall, but her hooves had her locked in place. “I swear! I wanted all of you to have a peaceful life! I wanted nothing more than to help you!”

Celestia hadn’t seen him before, but Discord was there too. Behind the two princesses, the draconequus shrugged and spoke with his usual suave confidence, joining the mob advancing on her. “You know… Those northerner griffons are actually kind of cool. I think I will stay with them for a while.”

Celestia’s eyes bulged, red and swollen from tears. “I sent you straight into the Harpy’s nest!”

“And she has shown me you are not really that great.” He grimaced and shrugged. “Sorry.”

“No! This isn’t real!” Celestia shrieked and waved her hoof madly across the air at the apparitions before her, but they kept encroaching closer. She flailed it at the apparitions and her shrieks echoed in the hall. “Get away from me!”

Her hooves slipped on the marble. It had become slippery. Her hooves had red on them, but she didn’t understand why. She laid on the floor, unable to stand and flee, confused at the red stains on her coat. She looked when echoing laughter filled the hall. All those mares on the mural laughed at her, as did all the ponies that surrounded her.

Without warning, the brown alicorn she had taken for consort came from behind Cadance. “You are having a psychotic episode, Celestia.”

A ghastly wound split open his chest, charred with lightning magic and a ripped heart still beat, pouring blood amid shards of broken bones. He wore on his back the white, blood-stained and wet sheet they had covered him when she found him in the library. He pointed at his wound. “Also, you left me to die! I hope you are happy you helped all those griffons along the way!”

“No!” She screamed, but any further words never came out. She tasted blood in her mouth, and she coughed it out. She found the dagger in her grasp, stained with red. A gasp escaped her, and she tried to let go of it, but her bloody hoof wouldn’t release it. “Help me, Chocolate!”

When she looked again, the brown alicorn had turned into the great white and black griffoness with the exuberant crown of black feathers. Celestia wanted to scream, but her lungs lacked the wind. She flapped her wings and tried to escape as the griffoness sauntered closer, but they seemed sluggish and her body weak. All she managed was to slip on the bloody marble and fall with her limbs splayed from under her. She sat, just as the Harpy smiled, approaching. Her velvety black paws held Celestia’s bloody hoof around the golden dagger.

Crown of black feathers flared open, glee in her stormy gray eyes, the smile in her obsidian beak became cruel and arrogant in contrast to her motherly and comforting voice. “It is too much for you. Let go. I will take care of everything, and I will even let you keep your precious Sun. I will give you a pretty tower in the Fólkvangr; filled with gold and marble, from where you can see all the little ponies working in the fields. And spinning above the fires!”

A pointed pain stung Celestia’s chest and jolted her body. The Harpy’s let go of her hoof and it held the golden dagger jammed into her chest. Her laughter echoed in the hall as Celestia was again alone. The alicorn sobbed and let herself fall to the bloody marble. The shaking wheezes hurt her chest, but she couldn’t stop. She inhaled a broken breath and cried short, broken sobs. Her eyes closed slowly, and darkness surrounded her.

She fell into a river. It flowed smoothly, but fast, rushing into the sky and through an endless sea of stars. The flat landmass of Equestria distanced away from her while the Moon grew closer. Its pale light showered over little wisps, disturbances on the flow of magical energies. Dozens of voices reached Celestia along with the noises of the world. Some cried mournfully, others asked confused questions, and others raged. But they all silenced, and only soft murmurs reached her ears after a while as she traveled with them.

The light from the Moon caught on those wisps climbing the river with her, and its pale light became silver, taking over their forms like it turned them to quicksilver. But Celestia stopped, and they kept going past her, faster and faster towards the Moon.

Behind the Moon stood the Sun with a bluish shine to its light. It made no sense, but that was how things worked in that place. She knew. From the Moon, she would see the Sun before Equestria, and from the Sun, she’d see the Moon behind her and Equestria ahead. Ordinarily, such was how magical energies flowed in the Aether and space held no meaning.

A rising rumble reached her and interrupted her thoughts. The Moon shone with a terrible red glow as the Sun behind it fattened and its light became crimson. Time froze around her as the Sun replaced the Moon. All the light from the stars shifted away and the empty black replaced everything around it.

“It’s begun.” She whispered to herself amid the rising rumble. “Once again.”

The creatures in Equestria would take a few hours to notice. Only then would the changes in the magic intertwined with reality manifest to them. The aetheric flow of magic had begun reversing and their life-giving star would consume everything and bring Creation back to the beginning. Celestia closed her eyes, too tired. Too hurt.

“Hey, Celly. Nice seeing you here.”

She forced her eyes open hearing the cheerful voice. She couldn’t see him. All was dark except for the angry red ball of Life, Light, Fire and Lightning magic above. But that was the voice of her deceased consort.

“Chocolate Velvet?”

“Are you supposed to be here?” His voice came curious and happy. “I mean, I’m beside myself with happiness seeing you again, but I’m not sure what is going on… It feels to me you shouldn’t be here. That looks bad. As much as I think that a magical black hole that makes the universe cycle eternally is cool, that’d suck.”

She laughed. Weakly, painfully, but she laughed at his terrible joke.

“I left you to die, Chocolate…” She whispered, with tears in her eyes, even if she couldn’t see anything. She tried touching him with her hoof, but she couldn’t feel her own limbs.

“So, I died. Uh. I guess I had figured as much.” His merry voice became sad. “Well, that… I don’t know how I feel about this. It’s kind of peaceful. But that means you died.”

“My soul has left my body, but I don’t have the right pieces in my soul to make it to the Pool of Souls. Like you, because Chrysalis used my soul as a model. I can only enter through the Black Sun.” Celestia whispered. “The Harpy’s spell hurt me too much. I’m not well, and I think I hurt myself. And now I am here.”

“Can you stay with me? Just a bit longer?” The rumbling from the dying star intensified, and she smiled timidly, tiredly. “At least I can talk to you again.”

“You can’t just let it end!” Chocolate’s voice filled with urgency. “You have to go back and fix this!”

“I’m sorry… I wish I could hold you again. See you again.” Celestia whispered again. “I wish I hadn’t wasted so much time with those griffons. I should never have left you alone in that tower. It’s my fault you died and now I am all alone. Please… Let me share these last moments with you. I don’t know what will happen next.”

“What the fudge? No! You didn’t leave me to die! Whatever gave you that idea? I died because someone had to protect Miss Mallet while she found the records that Lord Gilad was doing bad things. I died because that stupid griffoness was stronger. And they had guns. Like, submachine guns! And grenades. But you can’t die! You have to fix this! If the Harpy wins, what’s gonna become of Equestria? What’s going to happen to Twilight and Cadance?”

“I can’t… Please.” She begged. “I lied, did terrible things, and can’t fix it. I’m not worthy.”

Immaterial tears welled in her eyes, and she sobbed. “Please, just let me be with you.”

“Ah, heck you can’t!” He cut her short. Almost angry. “You’re The Mare! Your head isn’t working very well. You’re tired, scared, and hungry. And filthy. But you’re still The Mare! I’ll tell you what will happen next. You’re getting your gorgeous hind back to Equestria and you’re fixing this mess! You are the Firstborn of Harmony. The High Queen of Equestria. The Dawnbringer. You have to deal with this. For me, for Twilight. For all of us!”

She didn’t answer. Her heart told her beyond a single shred of a doubt he was right. His voice echoed inside her thoughts once more. “I would stand by everything you did and all the lies you had to tell them. Equestria… It… Equestria is fine without me, Celestia. But it cannot survive without you! I remember all the things you told me about Harmony and the deep magic of Equestria… You and the Harpy are the only ones who can harness it. Equestria needs you.”

“The deep magic of Equestria…”

Stripped of everything, bared of all, Celestia found something she hadn’t realized she had forgotten.

The Sun shone above, but Celestia didn’t see the red, sickened star. Instead, she looked deeper. She saw it for what it really was, the way only she could see it. The bloomed Seed of Creation. Harmony’s dream. The Pool of Souls and its immense magical potential, overflowing with the magic of Life. Souls eagerly fizzing out of it, waiting to be summoned by plants or flesh in need of animus. Unfathomable potential waiting to rain upon the world and take the magic of the Living Harmony with it. Unimaginable beauty in the shape of all the creatures yet to be born.

Beneath her, Equestria was as magnificent as it has always been. From Mount Canterlot to the Marean Trench, mountains rose to the sky, rivers flowed, and the great oceans reached to the depths. Green meadows covered the land and lush forests spread themselves wherever they could reach. Deserts and canyons, lakes, and seas, even the frozen scar… All of them sparkled, filled to the brim with numberless, shiny dots of the magic of Life. Cities shone like the Sun itself. From humble Ponyville to massive Manehattan, and even under the perpetual clouds of northern Griffonia, Life showed itself to her unimpeded in Griffindell, Brokenhorn, Stormvalley and Frozenlake.

From plants to ponies, hippogriffs, griffons, zebras, minotaurs to dragons. Innumerable forms of life, from little rats and cockroaches in the sewers of the world, to the mighty ursa majors and all the wondrous magical beasts. All of them lived in that land, alone in the void, surrounded by the sea of lights in Luna’s sky.

The world shimmered, incandescent with Life. Little pieces, tiny dots so many Celestia couldn’t see individually filled their world with Life in its purest definition. Minute, ephemeral cogs, keeping Harmony alive. Every single one of them, a small destiny sent to the world to sustain it. Creatures doing their best through pain and hardship, joy, and prosperity. The Children of the Sun, clinging to their time alive, always doing something. Filled with purpose. Alive! Until their physical anchor in the world failed.

Little wisps of magic floated from the land, dragged by the great river of cosmic magical energies following the Moon’s pale gleam. They rode her beams on the flow of magic, tired of their worldly journey. Waiting for the Mistress of the Night to deliver them back to the Mistress of the Day. To rest and fill themselves with the magic of Life again, to begin it all anew. Forever in their never-ending journey, sustaining the world. Keeping Magic moving. Maintaining Harmony.

A fire brighter than the Sun flashed in Celestia’s chest. She had no eyes, but they somehow stung with tears, but not as before. How could she have forgotten? How did she allow herself not to marvel at the wonder it all was? When had the mountains of paperwork stolen her sense of wonder with that wonderful world from her? She breathed in and her lungs filled with a magic she had forgotten. It pulsated in her bodyless form; it glowed in her chest. She knew all there was to know about souls and what she saw warmed the deepest part of her being.

She had called it the Animus Imperative. The reason a pony had for existing, the dream Harmony had dreamed for them. Their Destiny. It reminded her that the sacrifices of the past were all worth it. Harmony beckoned to her from the deepest, most fundamental, indivisible part of her soul to tell her it was all worth fighting for, and that it was still too beautiful to let it end. Too sacred to sacrifice to the ego of a murderous catbird with too high an opinion of herself.

“You’re the one that gave me an earful about the things we’re obligated to do! It is not a matter of choice.” The unseen chocolate-colored alicorn told her quietly. “It is your duty.”

The combined magic of Life, Lightning, Fire and Light stirred as sunfire. Wings spanning the length of dawn flapped, and Celestia hurled herself towards the landmass. Wisps of magic whizzed past her faster than she could see them. An immense tension filled the Aether, and in an instant, it snapped.

Water rushed past, roaring in her ears until her eyes opened and Celestia was again in the great hall, lying in a pool of warm blood. The air seemed colder than it was before, and she shivered. She saw the mural again, above the door. She saw the twelve noble mares, and they didn’t judge her. They were a painting. Lifelike, but still a painting.

In life, they had never judged Celestia. The war against Emperor Grigor utterly destroyed half of the most phenomenal and unstoppable fighting force in the world. Had they not joined Grover, the Emperor would have won. Ten thousand fully trained Battlehorns, and their auxiliary forces understood that, and they marched behind Celestia. As the dedicated guardians of Harmony they were, they offered their lives for the future. A future which was now up to Celestia to save. Not doing so would be the greatest insult to the memory of those mares. They may have passed away, but their essence remained in the Magic of Harmony.

Thoughts came clearer and Celestia realized she was alone in that place. She felt her body again, and it ached all over. The cuts in her chest and her limbs burned, and the buried blade hurt her with every breath. But Twilight and the others had never stood there. At least not in body, but Celestia owned it to them as well. To Star Swirl and his friends. Had she died and met Chocolate Velvet halfway to the Pool of Souls? Was it possible? She didn’t have the time to stop and think about it.

Her thoughts fuzzed again. She knew her body struggled with the lack of blood. Not enough remained to keep her oxygen and energy hungry brain working. But it fought on. She shook her head and stared again at the mural above the doors. Star Swirl didn’t judge her. He was not disappointed. He always stood by her side, and he, too, trusted her. Sometimes he didn’t like it, but he never turned against her. He never judged her. And even in her darkest hour, he was still there, waiting for her.

Only one judged her in that mural. It was the white mare wearing the Sun for armor and its beams for headdress. Under her stare, lightheaded, on the brink of losing consciousness, Celestia summoned all the strength she had left. Her limbs shivered, muscles complained, but she hauled her weight over the slippery, bloody marble. One pull at a time.

Her lungs failed to provide sufficient oxygen and her breathing was shallow, too fast, and hurtful, but a fire burned in her eyes. Her heart burned hotter than the deep cut, something in her core filled her with a stubbornness that would not let her stop. Celestia’s horn filled with magic, and she directed it to her injured limbs and organs lacking blood.

She had never studied the healing sciences, but she had an instinctive understanding of it. Eons ago, in the first cycle of existence after she destroyed the Harpy and freed Equestria of her madness, she had created it all. From the intimacy of the cell to the complex systems, she understood it all. The very magic of Creation touched her body at her command. It urged cells, muscles, tendons to work and, for the life of everything, for her brain to just hang on. For just a little longer!

Sixteen cycles had passed since she destroyed the Harpy. Or she thought she had… She still didn’t understand how, but for most of those, the Harpy toyed with Celestia and with Creation. As though they were hers and existed for her amusement. No more! This time Celestia knew she had returned before she had the time to strike first. This time, Celestia would end her once and for all.

Mother Harpy would laugh and say she lacked a true free will. That it was merely that piece of her soul motivating her to fulfill a role. She could laugh all she wanted. Not even all the free will in the boundless multiverse would save her when Celestia reached her!

A grin showed on Celestia’s lips as she fought, literally hanging by a thread of willpower. The immense magical reserves in her soul alone kept her body alive, but time was running short. She could hear the Great River. She could hear the rumbling. The Black Sun called her to it. But through sheer force of her will, Celestia refused to leave that wounded body. Her damaged mind held like a poorly put together cloth of old rags stitched together.

She whined. She cried. Pain claimed her existence with each movement and near blood vessels failed to deliver nutrients to tired muscles. But pulses of magic filled her body with waves of energy as she commanded her ancient magic to fill her body with Life. She sobbed her way to it, but she finally reached the golden cogs on the floor. With a pained sigh, she forced her limbs to raise her body from the floor and yanked the dagger from her chest. Her cry echoed in the hall following, leaving behind a cut with barely any blood left to give.

Under the painting of the twelve mares, Celestia held the dagger, coated with her thick red blood. The world cried her name. Harmony called for the Matriarch of the Great Herd to save it, and she jammed the dagger into its niche. The machinery clanked to a stop and started spinning again. Faster and faster, whirring and clicking came from below, as much as magic radiated from the enchanted machine.

The golden cogs inside the door too started spinning and the heavy halves began parting from each other. Celestia grunted, raising her chest from the floor, dragging herself onward.

“Blood… Stupid, dramatic old fool.” She grumbled and dragged herself around the cogs on the floor and toward the doors. “For Harmony’s sake, whatever happened to keys? Maybe a password. No… Had to be a magical dagger soaked in blood. You’re lucky you’re dead and I can’t reach you, old coot.”

She let out a small sigh, stopping for a second. “His soul probably returned and left at least twice already. It’s a shame I never thought of looking for him.”

With a wince and against dwindling senses, and all the sorrow, Celestia crossed the threshold. The same white marble covered the floor in a grand entry hall that might as well be a mansion from Canterlot’s upper levels. A double staircase flanked another set of doors, although those were normal doors. A gigantic candelabra lit itself. Statues of great unicorn mares in armor decorated the room, watching as Celestia dragged herself to the center with a thin trail of blood behind her.

Finally, her strength exhausted itself and she rolled onto her side with a soft groan, lying beneath a golden statue of herself. Closing, the doors rumbled in her ears. The distant roar from the magical dying star called to her from the realm of souls. The rushing river of immense magical energies and universe-creating powers merged with it and the rumble of the closing doors.

The light faded from her eyes. It was alright. Her body should still resist. Her soul held immense amounts of magic and could keep it alive. And she wasn’t alone anymore. Once open, the vault would also initiate the wakening procedure of its residents and the most loyal of mares would find her soon enough, with the resources to help her.