Platinum Moonlight on Snow
Opalescence always knew when she had a veterinary appointment. Pet owners say that all the time, but it still struck Rarity as uncanny, even when she tried to act as natural as possible, that Opalescence saw through the deception.
At the moment, Rarity rather identified with her cat. Her weekly breakfast with Twilight, and while a standing appointment with an old friend needed no reminder, Twilight persisted in sending an invitation every time, because that was the proper order of things. This morning’s had mentioned a need to discuss something but skillfully avoided saying what.
Now Twilight sat across the coffee table desperately pretending it was a completely routine day. Was this what Rarity looked like to Opalescence?
“We renewed Cheerilee’s teaching certification, of course,” Twilight said. She wouldn’t look Rarity in the eye, instead leaning back into the chair’s cushions. A rather small room at that, a bit of a breakfast nook the castle had somehow known to form near the kitchen for more intimate gatherings.
“That goes without saying, even more than most things ponies say that about,” Rarity replied. Twilight blinked at her. “Not to be indelicate, but when will we get to your reason for wanting to talk to me today?”
Twilight set down her glass of orange juice and kept her gaze directed at the table, bitter-tasting words evidently clumping up in her throat. “Alright. One of the guard patrols up near Yakyakistan found something last year.” Her voice sounded so quiet.
After a moment of no further explanation, Rarity levitated her own beverage back to the table. “I can’t imagine what would have you unsettled about that, but I assume some new threat? Perhaps the real Grogar this time?”
“No, not that,” Twilight said, shaking her head. “They found a unicorn there, one unfamiliar to them.”
As if every guard would recognize every unicorn in Equestria. And unless this mysterious unicorn needed a stunning new outfit, what would that have to do with Rarity? “Darling, to be even more indelicate, please stop tap-dancing around the point.”
Twilight swallowed. “He was a soldier, but not one of ours. They noted the different uniform and followed him. It seems there’s an enclave of unicorns in a secluded town.”
“Well, it’s not as if we haven’t seen that kind of thing before. Just look at Starlight Glimmer’s past. Maybe some of them decided they wanted to live isolated, though I do admit, having their own army does raise alarm bells.” Still no reason in sight for Twilight to be reluctant, so Rarity took her drink again and had a nice taste of juice before Twilight got to whatever would turn it sour.
“They’ve been living separately for a long while. An ancient city, the true location of which had been lost to time.”
Oh no.
“I’d avoided pressing you on historical details over the years,” Twilight continued, shoving her untouched plate of pancakes aside, “but maybe you’d recognize it.” She floated a map off her desk from the adjoining office—only Twilight would know the placement of every object so precisely that she could grasp it from around the corner, out of view—and unfurled it where her plate had been.
“Unicornia,” Rarity said before even looking at the map. She’d never studied the geography in that area much, certainly not enough to infer any meaning from the stated proximity to Yakyakistan, but then glanced at it to confirm. Yes, Unicornia, and a cold shock had already lanced through her body.
Twilight gave a solemn nod. “Apparently a group chose to stay behind rather than join their comrades in forming Equestria with the pegasi and earth ponies. We’ve tried sending diplomatic envoys there, but they refuse to listen to any offers to join us or even establish relations.”
“So let them live alone,” Rarity said. “We don’t need to bring anypony in who doesn’t want to be here.”
“That’s not it,” Twilight answered. “If they don’t want to join Equestria, that’s fine, but they’re belligerent. The yaks have had encounters with them we never knew about. I can’t have dangerous ponies out there.”
This could only be leading one way. Rarity let her eyes linger on the few things anchoring her to a warmer time. Photos of the girls hanging on the wall, the roots of the old library tree suspended out in the main room, one of Spike’s comic books lying open on a chair. “You want me to convince them. As Princess Platinum.”
A forced laugh sounded. “Obviously, you’re a dead ringer for her.”
“Princess Platinum did join Equestria. Why would they listen to her now?” That sounded far more like a whimper than a strong mare should allow herself, but few mares had endured quite as much as Rarity.
“It was clear from what little communication we did have with them that they still hold her in high regard. I don’t know why. But I think Princess Platinum could get farther with them than anypony else,” Twilight said, but with much less princessly resolve than usual. Few ponies even knew what Rarity had endured, but Twilight did.
Despite herself, Rarity raised her voice, though it trembled. “When you have the actual Star Swirl the Bearded around?” Twilight had promised! She could be Rarity now and nothing else!
“Who do you think was our first emissary? They wouldn’t talk to him.” Her eyes opened wider, and she shrugged. “I went next, and their patience for outsiders had worn off by then, to the point of brandishing weapons at me and not so kindly asking me to leave. Then—” she gulped “—they said the next envoy had better be Princess Platinum herself, or it would be met with force.”
Now the trembling ran through Rarity’s whole body, and even the glass of juice held loosely in her magical grip jostled. She’d have to say it aloud now. “Twilight, you promised me. You promised me you’d never tell anypony.” She set her drink on the table before she could spill any, then huddled in the cushions of her chair.
“And I haven’t!” Twilight said, holding up her forehooves and finally meeting Rarity’s gaze.
Still, Rarity shook, and she lost the battle against her tears. “No, no, please don’t make me, Twilight, please!” The little hutch of dishes from the old library’s kitchen, the braided rug that used to lie at the foot of the stairs, the set of candlesticks Rarity had gotten her long ago to welcome her to town. They all stared back at her from a simpler time, but a time when Rarity hated herself. Sometimes she wished she could go back, all except that part, not that part, and Twilight knew exactly what she was asking Rarity to do!
“I think your appearance alone would get you in the door. With the resemblance, it’s a no-brainer to call you a descendant of Platinum’s. And to anypony around here, your experience portraying her in the Hearth’s Warming play would justify it,” Twilight said slowly, each word ringing out clearly. And their meaning, too. Twilight had given this some though beforehoof.
“So nopony would have to know…”
Twilight waited a full minute. She knew just how to calm ponies down: one of the many things that made her a great princess. “I think it’s safe. In the little bit I saw of their castle, they had iconography all over the place of y—of Princess Platinum. They seemed very reverent toward her.”
Rarity sniffled once. “But I’m just a single pony. If they want Princess Platinum so badly, might they kidnap me? Or if they don’t like what I have to say, what would keep them from following through on their threat?”
Twilight gave a wry grin. “I don’t believe they would hurt you, but there is some risk. They wouldn’t accept anypony else. You’d have to go alone. I’ll completely understand if you refuse, and I wouldn’t ask if I had any other ideas. I also wouldn’t ask if I thought there was any real danger to you.”
“I trust you.” Why did that make Twilight grimace? Rarity took a deep breath. “If it’s really that safe, then would you allow me to take Sweetie Belle along?” Listen to her. She’d really get Sweetie Belle involved in this? Except that asking would quickly reveal if Twilight had any genuine misgivings about this plan at all. And for her part, Rarity had always wondered: did Sweetie Belle need to know? It could easily do more harm than good, but in her place, Rarity certainly would have wanted to know everything that went into making her Rarity.
A twitch passed through Twilight’s body, but then she relaxed. “I see what you’re going for. Yes, that makes sense. If she’s willing to go, then take her, too.”
“I trust you,” Rarity said again, and Twilight deflated a little more. A few reservations remained then, but nothing too dire. Rarity believed that.
She’d lost her appetite. Twilight would have to take two full plates of pancakes back to the kitchen.
Rarity pulled the hood of her parka up as she crested a low rise in a pass between two mountains. She pursed her lips while she thought of times in the past she would have goaded her sister into towing a wagon with far more than they needed for this trip, but now she only had one small trunk on her own back. Sweetie Belle trailed, bearing an even smaller one, but the dear never complained. She asked very little about where they were going and why, and she’d been humming a lovely tune for over an hour now.
“What song is that, darling?” she said.
“Something I heard Miss Octavia playing,” Sweetie Belle answered. “I don’t know the name of it.”
Rarity looked behind her and narrowed her eyes through the glint of sunlight off snow. In the scant trees, a few cold-weather birds chanted along a reverberation of the last line Sweetie Belle had sung. “When did you go to one of her performances?”
“Last month. You know the folk music festivals they always host at Sweet Apple Acres? Apple Bloom got me and Scootaloo to help out.”
Ah, right, she’d forgotten about those. It explained why Big Mac had come to Carousel Boutique to say a thank-you for some involvement Rarity had in those many years ago, mostly arranging to have the Pony Tones perform. But now Sweetie Belle trudged on silently.
Even the birds had run out of music, and now only the soft crack of snow crust sounded as the mountains’ shadows moved on and left it exposed to the sun. “You’re probably going to tell me I should have done a song at the festival, too.”
“Well, of course, darling! You have the most delightful voice.” Sweetie Belle had finally grown up in that regard. Compliments used to confuse her, and later on, they only made her self-conscious, but fortunately she’d begun to acknowledge her talent, if only to the few who wouldn’t take it as bragging. These days, she’d blush, but usually with a smile and a thank-you. “Please keep singing. I was rather enjoying—”
“Halt!” came a voice echoing from above.
Rarity stopped short of the pass’s narrowest point and peered up. From a small hidden alcove a good forty hooves above her emerged a unicorn. He leveled a crossbow at her. Instinctively, she set her jaw and herded Sweetie Belle behind her. According to Twilight, the guards would either recognize Rarity and gladly usher her in or allow her to turn back. It shouldn’t come to violence.
She stood her groud as a second unicorn showed from the opposite side of the pass and the first one slid down the rock-strewn slope to confront her. “We’ve warned you Equestrians enough already,” he growled in an unusual accent, one she knew all too well. “Go home, and we don’t want to see any more of you.”
With a steadying breath, Rarity pulled her hood back. If nothing else, her glare would tell him to tread cautiously. But the nearer guard immediately uncocked his weapon, bowed his head, held one forehoof across his chest and knelt on the other. “My Princess,” he breathed, his eyes clenched shut.
She never expected how awful this would feel. Before she’d even realized it, a wave went across her face that struck her as the same she’d seen when Tempest Shadow thought she had everypony trapped. In control and relishing it, flaunting it before all who saw. That wasn’t Rarity. For Celestia’s sake, that wasn’t even Princess Platinum! Where had it come from?
Her breath hitched as Sweetie Belle gaped at her. “Rise,” she said, intending to sound commanding and regal, but it came out more as a feeble plea. “I believe we have matters to discuss.” Sweetie Belle stepped forward, blinking as she looked back and forth between them.
The guard did as instructed, and at his sharp whistle, the second one returned to his hiding place. “I can’t believe you’re really here!” he erupted, and he wiped away tears. Then his body jolted. “Please forgive my insolence, Your Highness.” He turned to Sweetie Belle and bowed again. “My Princess.”
“Princess?” she whispered, glancing at Rarity, but she quickly regained her composure and nodded. Yes, they’d discussed how these ponies would ideally accept Rarity as Princess Platinum, and then in turn Sweetie Belle as her younger sister, Princess Pallas. Merely a role to play.
The guard beckoned them to follow, so they fell in step behind him, though he kept stumbling on the uneven terrain every time he stole a glance at them. And every time he worked his mouth as if to ask a question, but he remained silent.
If the guard post at the mountain pass had been unfamiliar to Rarity, the dell they now entered certainly wasn’t. A castle, around a sharp bend, surrounded on three sides by impassible cliffs, and just as drab and uninviting as her mind’s eye had concocted, gray stone against the gray mountains, white snow, and gray sky.
The forboding walls grew steadily in size along their approach until they stood right in front of it, as if pleading before an implacable judge. The guard whistled up again, and for a moment, only the brook spilling over the rocks nearby raised its voice, a cheery one completely out of place here. Then the gate creaked and began to rise.
“Shh,” Rarity said in reply to Sweetie Belle’s faint whimper at proceeding through the prison-like portcullis as dozens of unicorns, startled from their duties, pressed toward them, gaped, reached out. It brought to mind some cultures Rarity had heard of, where they might tear her apart to have some treasured relic that would bestow good fortune on a peasant blessed enough to escape with one. But none of them touched her or Sweetie Belle.
“Make way!” their guide shouted, and jolted from their entrancement, they all stood back, half of them bowing.
Only then did Rarity see the walls. Twilight was right! Paintings and frescoes of Princess Platinum decorated every free patch of stone, all closely resembling Rarity. Reclining on a divan with a sumptuous robe draped over her; standing among the enchantresses to raise the moon with a blood-red dye on her lower lip and a woolen stole of stars about her shoulders; inheriting the orb and scepter from her father and assuming the throne. Each new room they entered drew fresh gasps, more unicorns bowing, and a rush of whispers. “She’s here, she’s really here!” one voice floated over the crowd.
They really seemed to accept her—the best outcome for her mission, but the worst for her. And with her heart sinking in her chest, she watched Sweetie Belle, who had even more unspoken questions on her lips than the guard did, as she flicked her eyes between Rarity and all the depictions of Princess Platinum. Rarity flashed a tight-lipped smile and pulled her sister against her side.
Finally, an ornate doorway saw them into a vast vaulted chamber with an ivory-colored unicorn lounging on a throne. He jerked upright. “P-Princess? Is it you?”
Better neither to confirm nor deny. “I am here as requested.” Not even Applejack could find anything untruthful there. Then came a tug at her tail.
“Who’s that?” Sweetie Belle hissed, pointing at yet another tapestry, this one with a pony standing beside Princess Platinum. A pony who was a perfect match for Sweetie Belle.
“Later,” Rarity said gently. Her sister knew what identity to assume, but she’d never seen a picture of Princess Pallas before. Until now, Rarity thought none had survived of either Princess. She turned her attention back to the throne. “Thank you for giving us an audience, Your Majesty.”
“King Galleon, at your service,” he said with a swish of his robe, but he stayed agape as his eyes searched hers. “You don’t know who I am, I presume.”
“I am sorry, Your Majesty, but I don’t.”
He cleared his throat. “After you two went missing, there were no more of King Bullion’s line, so the throne passed to his cousin’s family.” He caught himself staring and stood in a rush, sweeping a hoof toward his seat. “B-but we will of course restore the throne to you, Your Highness.”
In all her years as a fashion maven, Rarity had seen subterfuge and backstabbing of all forms. She’d learned to read it. And the King showed none of the telltale signs. No hesitation, no sly signals to his court, no assassination plots behind his eyes. He’d really just cede his authority like that? “That’s not why I’m here.” It wouldn’t work, anyway. If she took up the scepter and ordered everypony off to Equestria, she’d have a revolt on her hooves, and winning them over didn’t require undermining their King, much less deposing him.
“I just knew you’d still be alive,” he gushed, then thought to bow his head. “But why are you here if not for that?”
“You must have already known how the three tribes’ representatives decided to join together and form Equestria. I am entrusted with offering you another chance to join us. We have much to benefit from a union, both Equestria and Unicornia, and I am prepared to discuss how—”
“Before we talk business, perhaps we should give your sister an opportunity to rest. She is no doubt tired from her journey.” With a flick of his hoof, an attendant strode up. “Please show her to the conservatory,” King Galleon said. “And get her some refreshment. There should be a nice performance going on for the younger nobles right now.”
It shouldn’t have surprised Rarity at all. Of course they knew Princess Pallas had an affinity for music. She had yet to decide whether the King was using this to avoid the question, though. “Go on, darling,” she said to Sweetie Belle. “I’ll be along shortly.”
With a nod, Sweetie Belle let the attendant take her pack, and she trailed him out of the room, their hoofsteps muffled by the thick carpet and the ornate wall hangings. Another attendant whisked away Rarity’s trunk, likely ferrying it off to whatever quarters were being arranged. Sweetie Belle gave one more uneasy glance at a tapestry that seemed to bear her likeness.
“Now,” King Galleon said, something new clouding his eyes, “why would Princess Platinum want us to join another nation?”
Rarity sighed. Wasn’t that rather self-explanatory? “The same reasons as always. Unicornia came to a peaceful settlement with the other tribes long ago, which Princess Platinum herself endorsed. To be blunt, why wouldn’t all of Unicornia follow her? Why would they think she’d change her mind after a full millennium?”
“If Your Highness could give us a demonstration of her magic to prove her identity…”
This was becoming as tiresome as trying to negotiate a contract with a cloth supplier. “Very well. I remember the way to the Moonrise Chamber, if you’d like me to assist the enchantresses in raising the moon, but even you should have realized by now that the alicorn Princess Luna performs that duty.”
King Galleon chuckled. “Yes, I know, if we begin the ceremony a second late, the moon starts rising without us, but we’re not willing to give that up. Even so, just being one of a multitude of enchantresses is child’s play. I’ve served as cantor occasionally and contributed some magic as well. Princess Pallas was known to have sneaked in and participated from time to time.”
Despite her earlier appraisal of the King, a sinister glint shone from his eyes. “Have you felt it? The peace of connecting with the moon? It’s like nothing else.”
She leveled a glare at him. “Not lately. I’m afraid I’ve lost my taste for it, having fallen victim to the Nightmare myself.” He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “More than once,” she added under her breath.
“No, I’m not familiar with that,” he said with a shrug, “but that’s not the magic I meant. What I had in mind was more…”
Rarity widened her eyes, and her heart surged in her chest.
“…the real magic. Where is your lamp?”
“I…” She choked on her own breath, backed away, searched for any ally in the crowd who might talk some sense into this stupid, stupid request, of course finding none. They all wanted to see such a spectacle. Had this whole kingdom gone insane?
She ground her teeth, spun on her heel, and stalked out of the room the direction Sweetie Belle had been taken. Another round of gasps played her off the stage.
Some things are so deeply entrenched in the brain that they remain firmly in place, even a lifetime later. The conservatory wasn’t far from the chamber where the enchantresses had raised the moon for ages. And if Rarity had gotten the correct impression, they still did, even though they knew it was pointless. Did Princess Luna feel so much as a slight tug from their efforts? Did it bother her?
As much as Rarity had noted a kinship with Opalescence just the other day, she rather identified with Luna right now. Ponies always wondered why the Castle of the Two Sisters was left to molder, forgotten in the woods. But Rarity understood all too well. Sometimes the past needed to die. Once everypony joined to form Equestria, this place had no purpose. It should have been destroyed. Then nopony would have returned to shut themselves off from the world.
She slowed as she approached the conservatory. No music sounded through the hallways; instead, laughter floated out the doorway, lilting like a spring breeze in this great frozen monument to stubbornness. Sweetie Belle’s voice carried above the rest, and Rarity paused at the entrance to watch, her mood immediately lightening at the sight of Sweetie Belle’s beacon of a smile.
On the low stage, musicians still conversed and packed up their instruments, but a crowd of foals had gathered around Sweetie Belle. “See, you don’t have to take it so literally!” Sweetie Belle said. “Just ’cause your cutie mark is a note doesn’t mean playing music is the only thing it’s good for. Sometimes they mean multiple talents.”
“But… I like playing trumpet,” the colt replied. “It’s just… I’m not that good, so why’d I get a cutie mark for it? It happened when I was playing in a recital.”
Sweetie Belle squinted at him. “Did you get it right while you were playing?”
The colt had to think for a minute, but then his eyes brightened. “No, it was while I was helping set up and get the posters hung.”
Being around her sister so many years had lit a little spark inside Rarity, too. She didn’t have the same level of intuition, but she could still tell where Sweetie Belle was leading him. Sometimes she even had a bit of insight about cutie marks herself.
“See, maybe your true talent is to be a promoter or producer. I saw you working on the lights and seeing if the musicians needed anything during the intermission. You’re really good at making sure the audience gets a good show!” The colt smiled at first, but then cast a glance at some of the instruments still out. Sweetie Belle picked up on it right away. “Don’t stop playing trumpet, though. If it’s fun, it’s fun. Your cutie mark can mean both things. They’re not about deciding between your loves. They’re about finding all of it.”
With a grin, he started to open his mouth again, but a fresh flurry of activity drew everypony’s attention back to the stage. Too far away for Rarity to hear, but one of the ensemble smiled down at a filly who was busily jotting in a notepad. A blank-flanked filly at that, and she grinned enormously at whatever the stallion had said to her.
Had Princess Pallas spent much time in the conservatory? It would have suited her, but from Rarity’s memory, she took more of a free approach to music, and no doubt a filly destined to join the enchantresses had her time filled with too much instruction to indulge in such things. Which, on the other hoof, would pique the interest of a filly like Sweetie Belle even more. Still, this room with its gilded columns, lovely settees around the periphery that nopony would actually dare sit on, the iron torchieres that permeated every space of this castle—it all felt appropriately superficial.
Then a flash of light snared her gaze, along with everypony else’s, and not a second later, that same filly came charging over to Sweetie Belle. She nearly tripped several times for looking back at her flank the whole time she ran, then finally stopped, heaving for breath.
“You were right!” she cried, poking at a cutie mark of a quill across a treble clef. “I was telling the conductor all the things I liked about the concert, and writing them down so I could put it in the school newspaper, and this popped right up! I got my cutie mark!”
What a wonderful talent Sweetie Belle had! Simply watching had quenched the fire in Rarity’s heart, rather like the supposed peace that came from communing with the moon. Maybe she wouldn’t storm out of here just yet. It couldn’t hurt to let her sister help a few of these ponies. If only that King Galleon would be as receptive to alternate viewpoints of what fate had in store. In fact, if he had even the slightest idea where Rarity had gone, he should have caught up to her a while ago—
“She’s very good,” came his voice from over her shoulder, quietly.
It didn’t even startle her. She did slowly look at him, only now taking in the large carved doors down the hall to the chamber used for raising the moon. She’d deliberately avoided noticing it on the way here, of course because she had her mind focused on Sweetie Belle and not because of any reluctance to jog her memory—
“Princess Pallas never got her cutie mark,” he said, jutting his muzzle toward the decidedly unique one adorning Sweetie Belle. “Star Swirl claimed she had the night she disappeared, but he didn’t see it himself, so he couldn’t say what it was. I’d always wondered. And then he went missing not long after.”
“That was over a thousand years ago. And this is Sweetie Belle,” she growled. He could make whatever assumptions about Rarity he liked, but Sweetie Belle was her own pony, not laden with the burdens of the past, and the truth of that statement would pass any Applejack Test.
King Galleon slumped his shoulders. “Perhaps so. I hadn’t considered that before. But you’re a different story.”
“I’m descended from her family. That doesn’t mean I am her,” Rarity spat, succumbing to the temptation to glare at him once more, but a coal in one of the torchieres chose that most inopportune moment to crackle, and any venom she’d intended dissipated into the air.
He stared at her for a moment, his expression softening. “Perhaps so, again. But her abilities would pass down through her lineage.”
Only now, it struck Rarity: with how much he revered Princess Platinum, wouldn’t he be desperate to know what had become of her? Descendant or the real article, Rarity might reasonably know her fate, yet he didn’t ask.
“I still want to see the lamp,” he continued.
“You’ve no doubt had my pack searched to see if I had one with me.”
His eyes widened, and he pressed forward. “So you do know about the lamp.”
She’d had just about enough of this. “And you do as well. But how?”
“The faithful always knew.”
That only stoked the fire under her more. “So faithful that they hid in the shadows from the one they worshipped?”
King Galleon gaped. He’d seriously never viewed it that way before?
“How do you even have… all this?” she barked, flicking a hoof at the portraits of her, and a bust sitting atop a pedestal in the hallway.
“We have good memories,” he mumbled.
At last, a break in the armor. She’d seen that enough times before: so easy to idolize one not present and lose track of reality, though it usually manifested as falling in love with somepony absent. “And you know what that lamp can do! Yet you’d still ask me to use it!?”
“If you’re really who I think you are, why would that be a problem?”
“If I’m really who you think I am, how could you ask me that? How could anypony live with themselves?” This delusional… stupid King! Only a bunch of insane cultists would condone such a thing!
He took a step back. He was actually confused. “Not on a normal citizen, no! But we have some rather vile prisoners. The worst ones are kept in a cell we named after a legendary criminal who tried to assassinate somepony very special to us, whose crime drove her insane, and she spent the rest of her years there.” And a gleam returned to his eye.
Just like when Rarity had already known what Twilight would show her on that map, she knew exactly what name he would speak next.
“Celadon.”
“Nopony deserves such a cruel fate. Better to let them live out their years in the cell, too. I can’t give you what you’re asking for.” Yes, the peace of the moon. Celadon had been well known for her verbal traipsing on that subject, alternately entreating and chastising all within earshot to find such peace, willingly or not. King Galleon seemed no better.
Rarity rushed into the room, and Sweetie Belle’s eyes snapped up to her. “Come along. We’re leaving.”
“But I was helping—” Sweetie Belle extended a limp foreleg toward the cluster of foals around her.
“I know, and I appreciate your kindness, but let’s get our things and go.” Rarity strode back into the hallway, brushing past King Galleon, without even checking to see if her sister had followed.
Luckily, she spoke up from right beside Rarity. “Wait, don’t we need somepony to show us where they put our stuff?”
“I know where it is.”
“But how—?”
“Not now, Sweetie Belle.”
Few faces peeked out from the doorways as they retrieved their packs and whisked off into the winter night.
At least Rarity didn’t feel like Opalescence this time.
“I really don’t know what else I can do,” Rarity said, putting her coffee back down without drinking any. “Well, I suppose I do, but not that I’m willing. He’d actually have me use that vile magic on a prisoner! Not to mention he didn’t know what effect it would have on me.” Now her throat felt dry—she should have taken a swallow while she could. “And I find myself wondering if he’d even care.”
“Plus…” Twilight added, shaking her head. “You can’t make it happen yourself anymore.”
“Yes, thank you for that.” Twilight winced, and yes, Rarity had said that a little too harshly. “I mean that. Thank you. You removed a terrible burden from me when you took that magic.”
Twilight pursed her lips and set down her own untouched coffee. “Sweetie Belle can’t either, and she’s in the dark anyway. That would mean bringing yet another pony into our confidence—” At Rarity’s huff of breath, she held up a hoof. “I’m just thinking my way through it. I wouldn’t actually ask you to do that.”
“I can’t rule it out entirely,” Rarity said, fighting to keep her voice from wavering, “but I’m glad you’ve considered that.”
“No, no!” Twilight replied, her hoof waggling. “It’s just a thought exercise that’ll help me come up with a real solution. If I let you indulge him, then it would take a fourth pony to set everything right again, and by then, what are the chances we could even control how it happened anymore? Or guarantee nopony let any secrets slip?”
Out the small window, some of the mountains near Canterlot rolled from their heights, the city itself not visible, but the glacial river that fed its waterways churning up a vague mist. “What of the other princesses?”
“My alicorn magic let me heal you once, but magic doesn’t like being tricked like that. Celestia forbid we involved a pony, and since we brought Celestia up, I have a feeling Princess Platinum’s magic would find a loophole even if we recruited another alicorn.”
Too often lately, Rarity had this same sinking feeling in her chest. “So it’s either try to deceive the Unicornians or have me become what I used to be.” She swallowed hard. “I can do it, I can—” flashes of light pervaded her memory, and a vertigo crept up from deep in her stomach, the bile that pervaded her existence until Twilight had rescued her “—I-I’ll take it on again, I promise, I—”
“I wouldn’t let you.”
“Even if it benefits a lot of ponies at the price of one?” Rarity heaved, her breathing out of control.
Twilight shook her head even more vehemently and rushed around the table to sit beside her and wrap a wing around her. “Not just one. Sweetie Belle, too, not to mention all of your friends. There are better ways of handling it, as much as I dislike them.”
“They’re outgrowing their space, Twilight. If we don’t work out something peacefully, they’ll probably turn to conquest.” Would they, though? Rarity had gotten strangely mixed signals from King Galleon. Very callous toward some ponies, very empathetic to others. Willing to brutally sacrifice prisoners for a public gain, but showing quiet admiration for Sweetie Belle’s work in helping the foals with their cutie marks. Did he really, fully understand the nature of the magic he wanted Rarity to wield?
With a grimace, Twilight shoved her coffee further away. “Deceit it is, then. I can’t believe I’m about to throw an entire Element out the window.”
This might not work, but the possibility allowed her heart to stop racing. “Same as before, I think the Elements realize compromises must be made.”
Twilight looked up quickly. “Before?”
Twilight had actually misplaced something in her mental catalog? “When Trixie took over Ponyville and you fooled her into giving up her amulet. It was necessary.”
Just as rapidly, a spark lit in Twilight’s eyes, and she nodded. “Yes, we could do the same thing! I could sneak back with you, stay out of sight, and when they ask for a demonstration of the magic, I’ll provide it! I guess I’d better make a fake lamp, too. We can’t risk them having access to the real one.”
When had Rarity started trembling? But they had a plan now. It might accomplish what they needed. They’d try it first, and if not, then… then Rarity would revisit becoming what she hated. “Okay, Twilight. Okay. Then let’s figure out how we can do this.” As promised, Twilight had wound her way through the solution they disliked the most to arrive at one that just might save everypony.
What a wonderful friend.
“Is it working?” came a familiar voice in Rarity’s ear.
“Yes, darling, I hear you perfectly.” Rarity glanced around, up the slopes, into the bare trees, even directly overhead. “Where are you?”
“About five minutes ahead of you, but a few hundred hooves in the air. I wanted to see if the invisibility spell would fool the guards at the pass. They haven’t spotted me.”
Rarity’s brow creased, and maybe she did see a little shimmer in the sky. She wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been looking for it. “Oh, you’re flying the whole way? Won’t you get tired?”
“Invisible or not, I’d still leave hoofprints in the snow.” A bit of labored breath answered the second question on Twilight’s behalf. “Good thing we rigged up this intercom spell. Invisibility is a very finicky charm, and it dissipates immediately if I do anything to draw somepony’s attention, like bump into them or make too much noise. I don’t think I can get inside without violating that.”
Rarity nodded, for all the good it did her. Twilight likely had her attention elsewhere. “There aren’t any windows in the throne room. Will you be relying on me to tell you what’s happening?”
“Yes, but make it quick, if you can. Staying airborne and keeping up the invisibility spell won’t give me a lot of energy to work with, so don’t go overboard. I know you like a flashy show, but I can only do so much.”
Instinctively, her lower lip puffed out. “At a fashion event, yes, but now you’re making me sound like Trixie.”
“I didn’t mean—hey, guard’s on the move. They see you and are coming to intercept. Keep the chatter down.”
The same guard as before, too. A coincidence of scheduling, or did he always occupy this post?
“Who are you talking to?” Sweetie Belle asked from behind her.
“It’s best you don’t know,” Rarity replied swiftly. With the guard nearly upon them, she added under her breath, “And it’s best they don’t know, if you get my meaning.”
Sweetie Belle gave a terse nod, and by the time she’d turned to face the guard again, he’d already sunk to one knee. “My Princesses.”
Rarity opened her mouth to respond, but Sweetie Belle hissed, “Can I?” At Rarity’s eye roll, she summoned up a rather haughty tone. “Rise, good sir.”
Even the birds went silent for a moment, but the guard did reverse course, contributing none of the small talk and wonderment he had the first time, which made it even harder for Rarity to ignore that depressing hulk of stone masquerading as a royal residence in the center of the walled town. She did scan the upper levels to see if Twilight might find a place to land and rest, but it seemed like every available space had patrols passing by regularly.
When she finally stood before the throne, Rarity bowed. “I have discussed it with my advisors, and we have decided that I will honor your request. A demonstration of my magic.” She undid the buckle on her left saddlebag and levitated out a shiny brass lamp, setting it on the rug in front of her, the rich purple dye reflecting over its bright surface. “But first, you need to understand something.”
“Rarity, what are you doing?” Twilight whispered in her ear.
“I might yet get out of this without magic,” Rarity muttered. She cleared her throat. “You said you understood the magic, Your Majesty. I don’t think you do. How does it work?”
He leaned sideways on the throne’s arm and smiled faintly. “Ponies express their selfish desires to you, and you give them the divine punishment they deserve.”
“No,” Rarity barked, nearly interrupting him. “The magic does that. I do not.” Sweetie Belle took hold of Rarity’s tail.
King Galleon’s eyes searched Rarity’s, and he leaned forward. “I don’t understand the difference. It’s still a powerful weapon—”
“No it is not!” she said even louder. “The magic does as it pleases while I writhe around in my own mind and beg any deity who may be listening to stop it. I hate what it does, I hate who I become when it takes control of me, and not once have I ever lived without the dread of it overhanging me like a rotting willow tree. It’s detestable, and this is what you’re asking me to be.”
“I am certain of it. You dispatched several enemies that way—your chambermaid, Sterling Platter, who was in league with the assassin—”
“What makes you think that?” And then Rarity began to shake. She’d forgotten all about Sterling Platter. A lot of the memories from the weeks surrounding that incident had gone foggy in her head ever since. “She was no traitor. And I don’t suppose you ever discovered what became of her.”
What an odious smirk he wore! “Drowned in a cistern outside the keep, near the marketplace. Records show her body was found there after several peasants had gotten ill from—”
“And you no doubt feel the collateral damage was worth it for this sentence from on high.” She didn’t even wait for an answer. “The magic made that decision. Princess Platinum did not, nor would she condone it.” Yet she had the oddest sense that the fog in her memory clouded a time when, briefly, she was such a tyrant.
She waited for him to relent, but of course he held his ground. And she had no form of leverage over him at all. “Fine. Bring in whatever prisoner you’ve selected. What is their name? I at least deserve to know that.”
A single word, laden with quiet thunder. “Celadon.”
Rarity whipped her gaze to the door creaking open, ice prickling through her coat. The chains clinked as two guards shoved somepony through it, but… a stallion? She peered intently at King Galleon. “This is not Celadon.”
“The worst offender is always named Celadon.”
She sighed at this… this exasperating King! “His real name—”
“—is Celadon. As is tradition, it is legally changed. Nopony remembers his previous one. Except maybe him.” He jutted his chin toward the prisoner, and the guard forced him onto his knees in front of the lamp. “Make your last request,” he said to Celadon. “It’ll be an easier fate than you’ll see otherwise.”
With trembling hooves, the unnamed stallion grasped the lamp. “I wish I was free,” he breathed, with Rarity echoing him so Twilight could hear. A tiny glimmer appeared, thankfully on the floor, with everypony’s eyes seizing on the prisoner, a little probe for the teleportation spell, as Twilight had explained it.
“Left,” Rarity whispered, “no, the other way, now forward five hooves, four, three, two—” she raised her voice “—your request of freedom is granted, Celadon!”
Naturally, Twilight could produce many different effects, though they’d agreed the prisoner would most likely choose something they’d need to simulate by teleporting him away. And so he disappeared in a flash of light, Sweetie Belle’s grip on her tail tightening.
“There! Now can we get to the business of why you feel the need to live in your own little enclave and antagonize all your neighbors?”
King Galleon remained staring at the spot where Celadon once stood, but he managed to grunt out, “Y-yes.”
“Fine. Do you wish to join us or live peacefully on your own? Personally, I don’t care which, but those are your options.” The clock was ticking now. Twilight had warned her to wrap it up quickly.
“But…” he stammered, finally looking at her. “My intent was always to cede the throne to you. You can make that decision on our behalf.”
“I don’t want the throne,” she growled, “I don’t want this disgusting magic, and I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to. Now which will it be?” If only this oafish lout could actually be a leader for once.
But already, Rarity’s heart fell. A clamor sounded in the antechamber, and then a half dozen guards led Twilight in, looking positively haggard. Dark circles under her eyes, trembling legs, wings hanging limply, and as the lead guard gave her a rough shove, she sank to the floor a few strides behind Rarity.
“What happened?” Rarity said, turning to Sweetie Belle as if asking her, and her sister wore the beginnings of a panicked stare, so Rarity smiled at her. “Not you, just play along,” she whispered.
Thankfully, the communication spell hadn’t failed. “I ran out of stamina,” the voice in her ear said, “wanted to teleport him as far away as possible, hopefully past the guards at the pass, don’t know how far I got him, invisibility failed, had to land outside the keep, guards immediately came for me.”
Okay, Rarity had enough to work with. She cut her eyes toward Twilight and nodded to Sweetie Belle.
“Oh! Uh, it looks like Twilight finally arrived,” her sister replied.
Smart filly. Rarity turned around and lent a hoof to get Twilight standing again. “Thank you for coming, darling, and I’m sorry the rushed flight here has fatigued you so.” Then she glared at the guards. “I’ll thank you to treat a Princess with more respect than that.”
“She might have been spying,” the guard said to King Galleon.
“On what?” Rarity yelled. “I’m already in here, privy to all these secret goings-on, so what is it she’ll learn that I haven’t witnessed myself? Honestly, the nerve! Princess Twilight is far more experienced in diplomacy than I, and I asked her to help us reach an accord after I’d doubtless convinced you of the lamp’s magic.”
Fortunately, King Galleon set his stare upon the guards instead of her or Twilight. “How is it that the outer patrols missed seeing her coming?”
“She’s very fast, and a single pony is easy to miss. No doubt your security is set to detect large war parties, not individuals here with peaceful intentions,” Rarity spouted. “Now, can somepony bring my poor spent friend something to restore her energy so that we may discuss terms?” Its purpose met, Rarity floated the lamp back into her saddlebag.
A rather complex set of nods and head tilts from the King had various ponies scurrying this way and that, but in short order, the result was the guards returning outside, some dried fruit and a floor cushion for Twilight, and a smiling King Galleon. “I find myself a little surprised,” he said, “that an alicorn would get tired so quickly, but then I’ve never met one personally.”
“I apologize if I’ve alarmed anypony,” Twilight croaked, and an attendant tapped her on the shoulder, offering a flagon of something hopefully alcoholic.
“Perhaps we should adjourn until morning,” King Galleon said before approaching Rarity. For the first time, his smile reached his eyes. “And welcome, Princess Platinum.” He took one of Sweetie Belle’s forehooves in both of his and bowed his head. “Princess Pallas.”
She gave him a timid grin, but her eyes were fixed on Rarity.
This whole business still had Rarity out of sorts, and at breakfast the next morning, she yet again had little appetite. This huge chamber of white granite and tall windows, a row of attendants standing behind each guest’s chair, and the muted sunlight speckling the table with hues from the stained glass in the chandeliers. All things Rarity so long felt she deserved, but no longer.
Even worse, considering the sound of chains approaching. Did they want her to condemn more criminals? After yesterday’s ordeal, Twilight had slept in, and the covert communication spell had expired, so how could Rarity tell her to whip up another stage show?
Across the table from her, King Galleon gazed sharply at the unfortunate soul, but then stared so intensely at Rarity. She turned to see who—“Celadon!” she exclaimed.
“No,” King Galleon replied through gritted teeth, “that name is reserved for the worst offender in our dungeon. With this stallion supposedly gone, another holds it now.” He beckoned one of the guards over. “Where did you find him?”
“Wandering in the forest, Your Majesty, about half a day’s walk away,” the guard answered with a salute. “One of the patrols spotted him.”
The King gave a heavy sigh and rubbed his head, and the inevitable question came: “Princess Platinum, I thought the magic would do away with him.”
“I-I don’t… Perhaps it’s a delayed effect?”
He immediately shook his head. “Except that tradition states you could foresee his fate when you cast the spell.”
“It-it’s not…” Rarity wiped tears from her eyes. That horrible magic—she’d banished it from her mind ages ago. Memories of how it worked, no, but the feeling itself, that awful feeling of the visions stabbing into her mind, the magic burning its way out of her horn. “It’s not a spell. It’s magic, raw, alive, self-serving, controlling, and I hate it, I hate everything it is!” Running out of the room now wouldn’t accomplish anything. She simply sat there, failing to hold back a sob, as the King watched. She’d see this through, as a Princess must.
Soft feathers touched her on the shoulder. “Are you alright, Rarity?” Twilight asked, and when Rarity looked up at her, regal and tall and well-rested…
King Galleon squinted at Rarity. “She did this, didn’t she?”
In the following silence, Twilight responded first, taking the seat next to Rarity. “I did, and I thought it was the only way to convince you. It seemed like you’d already decided how Princess Platinum’s legacy had passed down through history, and reasoning with you hadn’t worked, so I decided to play along. It’s my fault, and I apologize for deceiving you.”
King Galleon set his jaw, but Twilight held up a hoof.
“I’m not finished. Rarity is descended from the line of Princess Platinum, but the family no longer has the magic you’re looking for. Princess Platinum never passed it on, so it ended with her.” Twilight leaned forward and raised her voice, and yet what stuck in Rarity’s mind once more was that Twilight said nothing that Applejack would take issue with. “The magic was cruel and vile, and I don’t know what fascinates you about it so much, but it’s gone now, and no member of her family tree will ever possess it again.”
Rarity had seen that look in the King’s face before, the strength gone. He’d already suspected as much, but he’d retained hope that his dearest fantasy might be true. And now he had to accept that it wouldn’t. “How do you know so much about her?”
“She was one of our founders!” Twilight said, stomping a hoof. “Of course we would know about her.”
King Galleon glanced at one of the many tapestries. “She sure looks like Princess Platinum.”
“Why do you need me to be?” Rarity said, struggling to keep from shouting. “The arguments for you to follow the rest of your kinsponies from a millennium ago in joining the other tribes or to at least live peacefully with the other nations have no bearing on whether I can curse a prisoner. But if you put so much stock in her opinion, then why not honor the decision she herself made?”
The King swallowed and cast a furtive peek at Twilight before finally meeting Rarity’s gaze. “To be honest, not long after the founding of Equestria, Princess Platinum… changed. She seemed less interested in coexisting, and those of us who’d stayed behind in Unicornia expected she’d soon admit she was wrong and abandon the alliance. Then she abruptly changed again.”
Rarity whipped her head around to look at Twilight, but her friend nodded slightly. She knew about this?
“That was when Luna took over raising the moon from the enchantresses,” King Galleon continued. “Wresting that bond that hereditarily belonged to unicorns from her broke her somehow. We thought Luna had coerced or brainwashed her. It’s not just that we wanted to see you use the magic. We wanted to know if you’d recovered your true self.”
In the back of Rarity’s head, a minute tingle told her she’d lost something very important. And yet the only other pony who might know something about that was… “Twilight?”
The Princess dammed up the words in her throat before she quietly said, “Can we talk privately for a moment?”
Rarity looked to King Galleon, who nodded and waved a hoof at an unoccupied corner of the room, so the two excused themselves and stood under a large portrait of Princess Platinum vaguely smiling at them.
Twilight cleared her throat. “When I got the magic, I got the alternate memories as well. He’s right: Platinum was manipulating the other tribal leaders so she could take control of Equestria, but I believe she was doing it under the Nightmare’s influence. Then Luna inadvertently triggered the magic, and… a lot happened. She took on the moon and the Nightmare with it, and Platinum lost any reverence she had for the lunar rituals, as well as the memory of everything since it started. It seems like all of Uncornia did.”
No, no, that didn’t make sense… “I didn’t lose my magic then. Why would I have lost my memory of it?”
With a shrug, Twilight leaned in closer to Rarity’s ear. “I don’t think it’s a default action of the magic. I think it was a consequence of the curse Luna fell victim to, as well as why a minority wasn’t affected. You know how devious that thing can be.”
“Yes. Yes I do,” Rarity said through a heavy sigh.
Twilight tapped a hoof at her lip and narrowed her eyes. “I have an idea. Let’s offer to participate in tonight’s moon raising. We’ll be honoring their tradition, but the way they do it is very… personal.”
A soft smile traipsed across Rarity’s face. “Yes, I think I remember it, the peace, the tranquility in communing with the other enchantresses and the moon. Before it spoke to me.”
She hadn’t realized she had her eyes closed until she felt the hoof patting her shoulder. “It might help him understand you better if you shared that kind of link. I also think Luna could help, though I suspect her recollection is just as foggy as yours. I bet she’d want to clarify her own memories about it.”
Over the years, even the good had become part and parcel of the bad. The twisted magic, corrupting her own enjoyment of the serenity that came with raising the moon, but just thinking about it again, in its purest form, sent a thrill across her skin. The peace of the moon, hers again, and not the kind that—
She flinched. Celadon, the original one, used to say that. At least Rarity thought so. But that was the vile magic again. It was gone now, gone with Princess Platinum.
Maybe Rarity could have the moon back.
“And,” Twilight continued, “If I’m reading your intentions regarding her correctly, we should see if Sweetie Belle wants to join in.”
Rarity couldn’t help grinning. “Yes, let’s.”
King Galleon had agreed, on the principle that he could tell if Rarity had done this before. Not that it would completely convince him, but it was something.
What Rarity hadn’t expected was the feeling of peace, at least the sheer degree of it. Yes, she remembered the ceremony calming her heart, but it had gotten lost in the jumble, faded with time. Now, with voices raised all around her, communing with the enchantresses, Sweetie Belle lending her own beautiful singing to the rest of the young Chosen. King Galleon had even let Rarity take the role of High Enchantress and made what was apparently a rare appearance as cantor.
Until it came time to actually raise the moon, King Galleon kept glancing at her, presumably to make sure she knew what to do, but it had all flooded her mind in an instant, like she’d merely resumed it after a short absence. Pallas—Sweetie Belle had never proven a skilled dancer, so she contributed in voice only as the Chosen fillies pranced around the arbors of the vast terraced atrium, open to the sky.
And the peace. The intense peace, almost lulling her to sleep, through the other side of it and into a trance-like state. Still, the music reverberated in her ears, and next to her, Twilight’s soft voice rang out, in place of one of the enchantresses. Doubtless King Galleon never would have allowed any of the three to participate, except that he knew Luna would raise the moon herself in any case. Unicornia’s involvement meant nothing.
Her body practically buzzed, the dim moonlight shining in her mind’s eye, and it felt so right, so familiar. Yet only the vague memories tiptoeing around her head came back, none of the missing ones Twilight had talked about.
But what wonderful memories! The enchantresses surrounding her wove their song around the cantor’s theme, adding and drawing back as they felt inspired, not following any set pattern. No words—only the cantor supplied those—but humming and harmonizing as she cared to, or falling silent the next moment and simply enjoying the music of her companions. She was supposed to have gotten bored with raising the moon, very gladly giving up the responsibility to Luna. Then why did she love it so much now?
And… Princess Luna was there. Rarity didn’t know how Twilight had arranged it, but—oh yes, she’d retired for a nap before the ceremony. She must have contacted Princess Luna in her dreams, and such a dreamlike state while raising the moon. It didn’t surprise her at all when she heard Princess Luna’s voice.
“Greetings, Rarity.”
Odd, it sounded just like the moon.
“Princess Luna?”
“Yes. I trust Twilight has explained everything to you?”
Rarity didn’t know whether she did so in the waking world as well, but she nodded. “Except that there are some memories she got from me that I may never recover. Something about becoming power-hungry, and then… you. Something about you.”
A rather formal sigh followed. “I have no such memories either, but like you, I feel a piece missing from my recollection. However, King Galleon already knows that part. What we need to impress upon him is what you do remember. He’s never taken you at your word on it. But here, in this place, I can show him.”
Well. That might work. “What do I need to do?”
“Nothing. I will borrow your memories to show him, but you will not be conscious of it. Simply find the peace of the moon.”
A rather informal sigh followed. “I can’t believe I’d lost that. But regaining it here and now, I can’t imagine losing it again.”
She could hear the smile in Princess Luna’s voice. “You are welcome to join me in raising or lowering the moon any time you like. In person or in your dreams. You need only ask.”
Despite the sensation of time having passed, Rarity next found her humming trailing off as she opened her eyes. Even more things she hadn’t thought about in ages floated onto her mind as she strode out amid the audience leaving and the enchantresses taking up their night duties of updating the star charts.
Aurora. Her dear friend Aurora had been an enchantress in service with her. As much as reconnecting with the moon had calmed her soul, Aurora only caused her heart to fall. What had become of her? Rarity would probably never know. And goodness, perhaps Princess Luna shouldn’t share Princess Platinum’s experiences with Aurora. Rarity blushed.
Before she emerged from the chamber, King Galleon took her aside, near some of the enchantresses’ charting tables. Rarity glanced behind her for Sweetie Belle, but she’d gotten engaged in conversation, a rather animated one punctuated by plenty of smiles, with some of the same fillies who attended the concert with her, apparently all members of the Chosen.
“I see now,” he said, keeping his gaze low. “The moon helped me to realize something. Sometimes it lets us get faint subconscious brushes with each other, but nothing like this. I always thought Princess Platinum used the magic on purpose to punish traitors, enemies, ponies she’d lost faith in. I never knew. It wasn’t on purpose, always accidental, and… what it did to her.” He grimaced and finally looked up. “I’m sorry I ever asked you to demonstrate it. I didn’t know how much it tortured her, how much it would torture you.”
“I’m glad you do now, darling,” Rarity replied as Twilight approached. She had a knowing smile.
“Just ask Princess Luna next time you connect to the moon,” Twilight said to King Galleon. “Search her out. She’d be happy to explain to you what happened to Princess Platinum in the past. Something similar happened to her as well.”
“I understand,” he answered, then he turned to Rarity as the last of the audience departed and the massive wooden doors carved with all manner of runes and talismans swung silently shut. “You may not be Princess Platinum, but you are a worthy heir to her. And—” he gave a curious squint “—I… somehow got the impression a pony named Aurora was special to her but became estranged from her. I don’t know why, but you might find it interesting to know that once Princess Platinum left Unicornia for Canterlot, Aurora reappeared here. I know her name well. She was a prominent enchantress and talented artist. She sewed a number of the tapestries around the castle.”
Aurora did that? Perhaps she’d forgiven Princess Platinum, though Rarity still couldn’t unlock the seal on why forgiveness was needed. Twilight had offered to explain everything from the memories she’d taken. While it may prove more trying to accept those, she probably owed it to Aurora to do so.
“You can tell which ones were hers,” King Galleon continued. “She always included Princess Pallas.” He smiled. “We won’t cause you any trouble. And we’ll think about whether to join you. I promise.”
“What did you think of the moon-raising ceremony, darling?” Rarity said as they walked out of the mountain pass, open country and the way back to Equestria laid out before them. A cloudy day had thankfully spared them the harsh sunlight reflected off every patch of snow and ice.
“It was really cool!” Sweetie Belle answered. “But it felt so big. Bigger than I understand, and I just kind of added what magic I could so the enchantresses would use it however they needed. I don’t think I actually helped.”
Rarity grinned at her and added a wink. “That’s what guests are supposed to do. It’s about the feeling. The enchantresses do the real work.” She let out a chortle. “Or Princess Luna, for a long time now. And Princess Celestia, during her absence.”
Sweetie Belle hummed a few bars of the melody the Chosen had taught her, and her shoulders slumped as the nearby brook spilling over the rocks chanted along with her. “It was so peaceful! I didn’t know anything could be like that. All at once it felt overwhelming but also perfect, like I was meant to do it.”
“Then by all means, please ask Princess Luna about it. She’d be happy for your help, if you wanted to contribute again,” Rarity said, and Twilight added a soft grin and a nod.
“But… how did you know that much about it?” Sweetie Belle asked.
Rarity could explain it as Twilight filling her in on the history, or Rarity learning it through family lore, or…
No. Twilight had regretted the one instance of deceit she’d conceded to, and in all other matters, she’d remained truthful enough to make Applejack proud. Rarity kicked at a dark stone and watched it skitter down the slope.
“It’ll make a nice long story for the trip home, darling, but one I’ve always chosen to keep to myself. Though since it involves you as well, I’ll respect your decision of whether you’d want to confide in your closest friends. For my part, only Twilight and Princess Luna know.”
“Wait, I’m involved?”
Rarity patted her on the shoulder. “Yes. There’s a reason all those pictures of Princess Platinum and Princess Pallas look like us.”
“Well, yeah, you finally admitted we were descended from them, right?”
Rarity shared a quick glance with Twilight. “Not exactly. You… are Princess Pallas.”
Sweetie Belle giggled. “Thanks for the compliment, but I didn’t exactly have to do much. It’s not like I even knew how I was supposed to act.”
“I’m serious,” Rarity said. “You played her well because you are her.”
“I know, ‘get into the role,’ but the job’s done now, right?” Sweetie Belle looked at Rarity, then over at Twilight, who wore an odd expression: tight-lipped smile but still somehow full of warmth.
Immediately, Sweetie Belle stopped, and her eyes shot wide open. “What!? For real? How is that even possible?”
Rarity cleared her throat and took a deep breath. The whole truth, then, more than Sweetie Belle needed to merely understand their mission. She could have left it at that, but her dear sister, for millennia now, deserved to know. “You see, it actually starts long before Princess Platinum and Princess Pallas…”
Author's Note
For some reason, these Imposing Sovereign events always inspire me to write prequels/sequels to other stories I’ve written, and often in a way that they probably don’t stand alone well enough to make a good showing in the contest, but hey, I still have fun writing them.
Most referential things in here are geared toward the prequels, but there is one other unrelated one, where Rarity notes that Big Mac always thanks her for something having to do with a folk music festival. That’s a reference to “Duet in the Folk Style.”
