Don't Stop Believing

Chapters

Strangers Waiting
Small Town Girl
The Midnight Train Going Anywhere
For A Smile They Can Share the Night
Streetlights, People
Living Just To Find Emotion
Working Hard To Get My Fill, Everybody Wants a Thrill
Paying Anything To Roll The Dice, Just One More Time
The Movie Never Ends, It Goes On And On And On And On
Don’t Stop Believing, Hold Onto That Feeling

Strangers Waiting

Twilight regarded the rocks with a cautious, almost feral glower. Like that time just after she’d woken up, when she’d heard noises in the castle library. It was just the wind. All the noises she’d heard here must have been the wind, or some precariously left item dropping somewhere in the dead, dead world.

The knocking happened again.

Her ear twitched. She lit her horn dangerously. Falling stones, the effect of this rubble, the one part of the world that actually seemed damaged. Why was that? Why did everywhere else look like everyone had disappeared mid-routine, whereas this looked like someone had intentionally destroyed it?

Maybe this happened before the event.

Maybe there was a cave in.

There was an explanation.

She was alone here.

She had accepted she was alone and pretending otherwise wouldn’t help anyone.

And yet.

Twilight reached out and knocked rhythmically on the rocks.

Something knocked back.

Falling stones, dislodging more rubble, her knocking creating more knocking, an echo?

She was alone here.

And yet.

“Hello?” Twilight asked, something more like choking than speaking.

The silence stretched out for time that Twilight didn’t mark. Maybe it was the lack of brainpower, maybe the exhaustion, but Twilight nearly always could tell exactly how much time had passed. Maybe it was the resignation.

Maybe it was the accursed burden of belief.

Her eyes flicked up, and she squinted in confusion. She saw motes of dust dancing sporadically, moved by the silent wind. She tilted her head, fur raised in some amalgam of exhaustion and anger and daring to dream. A crack in the rocks up high was pierced by a spear of light. Golden, warm looking. A relic.

But that would mean…

“Bonjour?” came a voice from behind rock.

Small Town Girl

Twilight dropped the photograph, shocked into uncharacteristic clumsiness.

Twilight dropped her notes, shocked into uncharacteristic clumsiness.

“I’m sorry, would you mind repeating that Princess?”

The heralding member of Equestria’s new diarchy regarded Twilight with an arch look. If Twilight ran into something she didn’t quite understand, or was taken aback by, during her lessons with Celestia, then the sun princess would be doting, maternal, guiding her student to the right answer with a caring hoof and an astute remark.

One thousand years on the moon wouldn’t make for amazing social training for anyone. This interview had meant to be a look into the past, speaking to the pony most intimately acquainted with the Equestria of a millenia ago currently walking the earth.

It had been revealing, but in a way Twilight wasn’t entirely sure she was comfortable with.

The sovereign of the moon didn’t have to be prostrate with thanks for the fact Twilight had saved her, of course not… but still. Luna hadn’t expressed a note of thanks throughout the entire conversation, referring to Twilight exclusively as ‘under-arch-mage’, a title the unicorn had never even heard before. Her answers had been curt, and she hadn’t reacted well to being questioned just now.

This was a conversation between ruler and subject.

The two didn’t say anything, Twilight out of shock for what the princess had said, and her current look of blatant outrage. Luna, presumably for having been spoken back to in some form.

The room got warmer, and Twilight knew without looking that Celestia had entered behind her. Luna looked past Twilight. A curl of her lip betrayed clear fury, before presumably some look from her elder sister quelled her, enough to say.

“What about what we said was unclear?”

“My apologies princess, I didn’t mean to imply you were unclear. I was simply surprised by your answer.”

“You wanted to know about original translations, correct?”

“I did, yes Princ-”

“Allow me to educate you, under-arch-mage. These books you have referred to were written before Olde Equish had developed. Language was different back then and for this, among others…” Luna’s eyes flicked behind Twilight, “Reasons, translations of texts from that time are now imperfect at best.”

Twilight bit her tongue, if only for the sake of getting an accurate answer. If the princess had reacted as she had for being politely questioned, Twilight could scarcely imagine what she’d say were Twilight to interrupt her and tell her she was more than familiar with every topic she was currently being lectured on.

“So, with that in mind, these passages you’re asking about can originally have different meanings, subtly so or otherwise.”

“My question had been on what the original translation of the term ‘the eternal night’ was…” Twilight said. The twinge of irritation she felt for having been spoken to like that was becoming less and less characteristic. She was no longer the young mare she had been, brusque and bookish to the point of rudeness.

But ponies don’t change overnight. That takes work.

She let the question hang there, continuing to levelly meet the princess' increasingly furious gaze.

Should she?

Well, once again.

If only for the sake of getting an accurate answer.

“...Princess.”

Luna took her time to answer. Cold, white fire danced in her eyes for a moment, before it was suddenly, suspiciously, snuffed out.

“And, as I have already told you, Twilight Sparkle. The original term had been ‘The Eternal Madness’.”

The Midnight Train Going Anywhere

Twilight bit into the loaf of bread, her eyes rolling back into her head with ecstasy. It cut the inside of her mouth, the crust long hardened into sharpened ridges in the freezing temperatures and ever-present stale air.

It was rapturous.

Things like this were becoming fewer and further between.

It had only been a few days since Twilight had woken up in her castle, finding the world to be a frozen, deserted wasteland.

Well, no, wasteland wasn’t too accurate.

What Twilight had walked into was so much worse than that. It was pristine. It was a world made into a sculpture, with only the Ponyville librarian, imperfect in her stubborn consciousness, left to sully it. It was a world in which every single occupant had simply vanished, leaving Twilight with nothing but time.

Time she had used to scour buildings in Canterlot for the food that remained, anything to quiet her screaming stomach, agonised in the constant state of starvation she’d felt since this had happened. And time she had used to consider a few salient facts.

Everyone in the world had vanished.

She didn’t know how she could fix it.

She didn’t have long to work out how to fix it.

Princess Celestia, and Princess Luna, were dead.

The last point, even just thinking it, made her body convulse. But Twilight forced herself to focus on her bread, focus on eating one of the last fresh things in the entire world, even though it was horrifically stale.

It was simple really, each point fed into the next.

There was one pony in the entire world. There was enough canned and preserved foods to last Twilight an entire lifetime.

She estimated she had a couple of months at most.

Because Twilight could eat as much as she wanted, she could drink entire rivers. But Twilight was going to die, relatively soon.

Because the princesses were dead. She knew they must be dead. And not only dead, but completely and utterly destroyed.

And it hadn’t been hard to work out.

Because there were only a few things that could release so much energy as to scour the world clean of every notion of complex life. And one of them was the energy released when you destroy an alicorn.

Not just kill it, but rend its very soul into nothing.

But Twilight was a scholar, she didn’t listen to conjecture, or unfounded hypotheses. She’d need proof to jump to such an assertion, of course.

It was a couple of days in when she found it. Because Twilight had leant down to eat a mouthful of the grass at Canterlot park, near-crazed from hunger in the dulled afternoon light, and instinctively spat the rotten, foul tasting sprouts from her mouth.

She’d pulled back, looking at them in horror, seeing only fresh-looking, green grass. And then she’d looked up, at the weak rays filtering through the grey ceiling atop her. And then back to the grass, and back to the sun, and then to her own shaking, weakened body.

And Twilight had realised then, and there, that her suspicions had been correct. And that her mentor must be dead. And she’d fallen to that foul, rotten, beautiful, vibrant grass. Because her exhaustion and starvation, and the taste of that meadow, and the death of the entire world, and the destruction of her second mother finally made a terrible nothing of sense. Because, stood there as she was, with naught for company but the silent wind Twilight had realised.

Because there was something wrong with the sun and moon.

XXX

One of Twilight’s favourite places in Canterlot had always been the crystal catacombs. She’d gone there with Rarity. They did something important there. She was sure of it. She looked at the entrance, strangely destroyed in the eerie calm of the perfect world. Rubble blocked the entrance completely.

It must have been?

Twilight punched the rocks and screamed. The memories, or notions of them, didn’t make sense. She felt them so strongly and yet she felt they must be wrong.

Twilight had never liked the catacombs and neither had Rarity. They weren’t aesthetically pleasing, and magic didn’t even properly penetrate down there. It had nothing for either of them.

She had no actual memories of coming here, aside from rescuing Cadence. All she had were these persistent odd notions and niggling feelings. So why had it felt so important to come here? She didn’t dream any longer, without the moon, she couldn’t. Sleep only brought flashbacks of times that were completely irrelevant, like that interview with Luna.

And even if there was relevance, the starvation and lack of nurture from the sun made it impossible. The sun was the lifegiver, its magic sustaining the whole ecosystem. Its absence was killing her and every passing second made it less likely she’d ever fix this.

She bit her tongue to stop herself from being sick. In her current state, vomiting was just a waste of energy, and resources, and precious bread. She tried to fight away the stab of panic that was piercing her chest at the knowledge that she was losing her memories. Or they’d been flitted away in whatever blast had glassed the planet and left her as the sole sentinel, and wasn’t that fitting.

Being honest with herself, she could barely remember anything from the last few years. She’d realised it when she’d finally calmed down that first day after discovering that the vast vanishing was far beyond the borders of Ponyville.

The last few years of her life, completely immaterial, scattered thoughts in a void of nothingness. She supposed it was the lack of the moon’s magic. She remembered spare moments, the outcomes of adventures. She remembered her life as a smear of monotony spread out over countless months.

But now she was apparently the only alicorn left in Canterlot, and she remembered nothing about how to govern. She remembered nothing about her duties. It was a miracle she still remembered how to fly. Even if she were to somehow save the world, all those lessons she assumed Celestia had given her on sovereignty were lost to her now.

The Diarchy of Equestria would need to be succeeded by a unicorn with the accident of wings, little more skilled than a town librarian.

Another little problem to solve for her, while the universe sat back and laughed at her. Get rid of Nightmare Moon? Okay.

Get rid of Discord as he hypnotises her friends? Okay?

Get rid of Chrysalis while everyone actively tells her how mistaken she is? Okay?

Get rid of Starlight? Get rid of Tirek?

Okay, she’ll do it. Celestia was meant to be the most powerful thing in the entire world and time and time again, Twilight solved it all and gratefully received the ‘lesson’ it had imparted.

Save the entire world, with only her own mind trapped in a body marching inexorably to death while knowing Celestia and Luna were dead, and having no idea whether Cadence had survived? Do it while not remembering any remotely useful details about herself? Solve the hardest problem ever while knowing the world could never truly be fixed and do it on constantly reducing brainpower?

Okay.

“Did you even ever actually care?! You or Luna?! I fucking hate you!”

Twilight screamed.

Then Twilight was silent.

Twilight had no idea where that had even come from.

Of course she didn’t hate the princess.

She wanted to see Celestia.

She wanted to see her family.

She wanted to see Rarity.

She slid down the back of the rock and sobbed, despite knowing what a drain on energy it was. She couldn’t stop herself. She fiddled desperately with her saddlebags, and pulled the one genuine source of comfort from them.

A small photograph of her and her friends, all vanished now. Tucked off to the side, was herself and Rarity. A small alcove they’d formed for themselves almost imperceptibly, unconsciously. When she tried to remember, Twilight thought that a lot of photos of the group of them had that quality.

But then, maybe she was misremembering.

And it was in that alcove she’d formed for herself, hidden from the dying sun against rocks that blocked the crystal catacombs she’d never loved, that Twilight dropped the photograph, shocked into uncharacteristic clumsiness.

Something on the other side of the rubble knocked on the rocks.

For A Smile They Can Share the Night

Twilight remembered feelings of listening to her parents argue when she was a filly. It was wrong, of course, to eavesdrop into what others were saying. Especially when the hushed whispers of those in the room betrayed their desire for privacy.

But Twilight was a curious filly. Twilight was a compulsive filly. Twilight couldn’t sleep until she knew that everything was alright, that it wasn’t her she was arguing about.

There was no such desire in the voices she heard, they were full bore in their fury, resentment, bubbling over and over and over. Slight clinks of treated metal formed the background ambience as the guards shuffled uncomfortably. Twilight could tell in their cringing expressions and the way they made no move to stop her that this was hardly a seldom occurrence.

They looked worried.

They wanted her to hear.

They wanted her to fix it.

Okay.

The clumsy cracking of the door was sufficient to remove any sense of soundproofing magic that would have otherwise snuffed their voices. Both rulers of Equestria shouted like common folk, no thoughts for their station, clearly no thought for who may hear. Twilight could easily imagine Luna marching in, indignant, not shutting the door properly.

Maybe she wanted the guards to hear.

Maybe she just didn’t give a shit anymore.

“I have brooked enough of this from you, sister.”

“Twilight resolved this, I don’t see any reason to press the matter any further.”

“You know full well why we even needed her to step in the first place.” Luna spat, and Twilight cringed, “Are you truly content with all of this?”

“You were away for a millennia, you’ve yet to learn.”

“And how, exactly, do you propose to bring me to heel?” Luna asked, an unmistakable edge of steel in her voice.

The noise of motion was somehow simultaneously so loud, and almost too quiet to comprehend, that it nearly made Twilight’s heart stop.

“Do not deign to threaten me, little sister. My offer of explanation was a courtesy, extended by grace. You would do well to accept it.”

“If mother and father could see you now.” Luna said, laughing humourlessly.

“Mother and father are dead,” Celestia replied, “I will continue their line with or without your leave.,”

“You will reunite us, nothing more,” Luna replied venomously, “I know full well about carrying on their line Celestia. You continue your smiling, conciliatory farce. And leave it to hooves that haven’t so quickly forgotten.”

“It’s been a millennia, Luna, that’s not quick.”

“They wouldn’t say so, I’d expect.” And with that, Luna made her way to the door.

And Twilight was so tired, so exhausted from it all that she wasn’t able to get away quick enough. The ornate wooden panel smacked into her and she fell to the floor. Luna carried on walking, no care for the body audibly tumbling to the ground.

That was until Twilight began to cough, her tender ribs contracting in an agonising rhythm that caught the moon princess’ attention. Twilight tried to get to her hooves, but her hacking and spluttering proved more than equal to her legs, which gave out under her.

Luna made no attempt to help, only standing there looking at Twilight, expression somewhere between pity and disgust.

“How long are you going to keep doing this to yourself?”

One of the guards watched the exchange, before screwing up his eyes. His face contorted, it looked like his insides were on fire. He shuffled, he writhed. Celestia poked her head out of the room, curious by what had stayed her sister’s retreat.

Twilight tried to get up again and failed.

The guard finally snapped. He brazenly abandoned his post in front of both sisters to help Twilight to her hooves. He was gentle, he was so gentle and his touch and voice were kind when he asked her if she was alright, and if he should send for anything that she needed. He guided her to his feet the whole time, not rushing nor forcing. Just patience. Just softness. Just understanding.

Both princesses watched him closely. Celestia’s eyes were inscrutable as always, betraying no emotion while the subtle movements of her irises made it clear that she had seen everything. Luna on the other hand looked wild. She always looked wild when compared to her elder sister. Her pupils shrank to pinpricks and she tilted her head, more beast than god. It was short lived, however, and the moon princess shook herself to some measure of composure, before stealing away down the halls.

Celestia watched her go, before remembering herself and placing a comforting hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. But it was absentminded, and she returned her eyes to watching after Luna.

The princess’ hoof was so unbelievably powerful. It nearly knocked Twilight to the ground again.

Streetlights, People

“The Dias is one of the only pieces that was actively moved over from the old castle in the Everfree. It was placed here in the principal tower, highest of the palace, as both a functional aspect and to reflect its importance,” Luna said, characteristically brusque as Twilight had come to expect. Ever since her ascension, she had been told, not asked, by the moon princess that she would enter her tutelage as well as Celestia’s.

A formality, making the previous arrangement official and nothing more.

It was not something Twilight had welcomed.

“What is its purpose?” Twilight asked. Long had it been now that when they met like this, Twilight would drop Luna’s title. And both would pretend they were putting no thought into the matter when, of course, this was yet another formality.

Twilight was doing this to get under Luna’s skin. And Luna was pretending to not be bothered at all by it.

But Twilight knew the truth. She was under no illusions that her ascension had been Celestia’s design alone, and that Luna had never been pleased by it. Her verbal inclusions of Twilight as one of them always seemed forced, drank in like a mouthful of lye, cringing and overworking of the tongue to affect an air of normality.

Sadly for Luna, subterfuge had always been her elder sister’s strength.

Twilight tried to hate herself for feeling some dark pleasure in that.

“The sun and moon are not merely there for aesthetics. The sun gives life to the entire world, its magic nurturing and cultivating. The light can help the chemistry of agriculture, but without the magic, it wouldn’t matter. Without the magic it provides, the sun would shine over a dead world.”

“I… I…”

“The moon governs the mind, in contrast to the sun’s nurturing of the body. My magic weaves throughout the nocturnal domain and allows ponies to dream. It keeps them spiritually nurtured. Without it, the moon would stand sentinel over a world of not the living, but the existing, and nothing more,”

“I… know,” Twilight spat, before falling to her hooves. She hacked and coughed, gasping for air. Luna walked over and regarded her with a look of frustration.

“I will ask you again, why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

“Tell me about the Dias, get it over with.” Twilight replied, making no request for Luna’s help and receiving no offer. The two remained locked for a moment in a silent battle of nothing more than stares, neither willing to break. This seemed to be the alicorn’s domain, battle in the conventional sense must be so trite to beings who could kill the whole world, should they choose.

Better to use words, and no words, and looks across rooms and in towers, and remaining on the floor spluttering and not helping someone on the floor coughing their lungs out.

Luna’s head tilted near-imperceptibly.

“The Dias can amplify and harness the magic of any construct, physical or otherwise. We use it with the spheres, to capture their power and change the way it behaves. Should an enemy to Equestria attempt to disturb our citizens in their dreams, I could use this to stop them. Say they tried to raze our crops, disrupt our supplies, my sister could amplify her sun’s rays and focus them on reviving the lost fields. It’s marvellous, really,” she said, her voice sounding frighteningly mortal in its reverence for the massive, mirrored surface, hovering over a deceptively small plinth.

A thought occurred to Twilight.

“Why were you arguing with Celestia? Months ago, after I’d defeated Tirek, I heard you in her chambers. Why?” Twilight asked, causing Luna to wheel around and cross the distance between them in a heartbeat.

“I will brook your attitude, little sister, but do not profess to meddle in the business of gods,” she hissed, eyes centimetres from Twilight’s.

“I thought I was a god,” Twilight replied, shaking with laughs that quickly devolved into spluttering coughs, “If what I ask isn’t to your liking then we can stop the lessons, but if you’re going to insist to keep them going, then I will behave precisely as I would with Celestia. She never shies away from a difficult question from a student.”

“This lesson is on the Dias, and you will stay on topic-”

“I couldn’t care less about your stupid mirror,” Twilight spat, maybe it was the lack of brainpower, maybe it was how exhausted she was, maybe it was seeing the facade break and see the princesses squabble like siblings, maybe it was how long since she’d seen… her friends.

But the pretence had left her, totally and entirely.

“Do you know how much you’ve taught me in these lessons? Essentially nothing. And I know you know that. I know what you’re doing, you’re hoping that by bringing me up here every other day, and lecturing for hours on end about material I already know, you’re going to break me and get me to listen to what you actually want to tell me, but it’s not going to happen. So either tell me about what you and Celestia were arguing about, or leave me in peace, because I’m not listening any more.”

Luna looked at her levelly, seemingly unmoved by Twilight’s brazen defiance. It was amazing, how much of what Twilight did recently that seemed to prove utterly, totally futile.

Living Just To Find Emotion

It couldn’t be.

“Is someone there?!” Twilight cried, lighting her horn to try to pull the rocks away.

“Y a-t-il quelqu'un dehors?” the voice called back.

Twilight’s horn flickered and her grasp hooked onto the rocks, but fell away just as quickly. She wasn’t strong enough.

She’d never been strong enough.

“Twilight, you can’t just do science lessons,” Celestia said, her laugh betraying how charming the tiny indignant filly was as she puffed her cheeks.

“But languages aren’t even useful!” she said, not noting the irony of her myriad mispronunciations as she tried to convince her teacher, “I can just cast a translation spell! But I’ll never learn how to do that if I don’t focus on science and magic!”

Celestia stuck her tongue out in mock thought, and found herself strangely compelled by the child’s argument.

Of course, that was the memory she came to now. Of course, that was one of the few her mind had decided to leave her intact.

Twilight tried to cast the translation spell.

She wasn’t strong enough.

She slumped to the ground.

Sit there and listen to a voice she couldn’t understand nor save? And knowing her weakness will only continue?

Okay.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand you,” she said, her voice wobbled and only her exhaustion stopped her from crying.

“Je vous comprends! Je suis désolée, mais je ne parle pas la langue!” the voice cried back, sounding desperate to be heard.

Twilight scrunched her eyes and rubbed her temples and it felt like her brain was going to explode. The effort required to do the slightest amount of critical thinking was agonising.

The word ‘comprends’ sounded like its Ponish equivalent.

Did that mean the voice could understand her?

“Can you understand me? Can you understand what I’m saying?”

“Oui! Oui!”

Even Twilight understood that one.

She flapped her wings and the lift was nigh unnoticeable. But Twilight had always had a keen eye for detail. The second keenest eye she’d ever known, in fact.

She reached her forelegs up, and with a flap, pulled herself up one of the rocks.

“Are you safe in there? Do you have food?”

“Oui, mais nous n'en avons plus. Il y a de l'eau ici, mais la nourriture ne durera pas longtemps."

Twilight scrunched her eyes and bit her tongue. The frustration was killing her, the effort was killing her, needing to think was killing her. She flapped her wings again, and up another rock.

“I’m sorry, could you say it more simply?!” she called back.

“L'assistance,” the voice said, before repeating it several times. Twilight felt like she had a good idea what she was being told.

Another flap, another couple of feet higher, all heading to the top of that pile, all to that crack in the rocks.

“Are you alone?”

“Nous sommes nombreux. Ils sont plus bas dans les catacombes de cristal,” came the reply, sounding buoyed as Twilight assumed her voice got louder and louder. Another beat of the wings, another tiny amount of lift. It was lift enough.

“Could you stick with yes or no answers?” Twilight said, hoping the exertion in her voice would quell any disagreement from within, “Are you alone in there?”

“Non,”

“Are you in charge?”

“Non,”

Twilight scrambled further and further, the aperture tantalisingly close. She licked her lips, the promise of the smell of the stink and musk of other living beings, stale and stifling, it sounded like the closest she may ever feel to being home ever again.

“Who is?”

“Mon amie, Rarity,”

Twilight nearly fell from the rocks.

Another flap, another desperate scramble to get to the hole. She couldn’t fall now.

Surely it couldn’t be possible.

But Twilight wanted to just believe.

“Did you say ‘Rarity’?”

“Oui,”

One final, agonising flap of her wings. They burned, her muscles were on fire, her whole body screamed for something, anything other than this. Her body wanted her to lie down and sleep and never get back up. Her mind wanted her to just rest for a while, she wasn’t any good to anyone like this.

“Can… can you go get her?” Twilight said, ragged breaths giving way to wet, heaving sobs as tears streamed down her face.

“Oui! Un moment!”

Twilight got to the hole, it was bigger than expected, she could have easily gotten her head through it. She looked through, catching the back end of the pony she’d been speaking to heading through a darkened threshold. The room seemed to be a guardpost of sorts, a sharpened stick lay by an old chair she imagined the pony had been sitting on. Glowsticks littered the ground, giving the room a warm ambience that offered a pretence of safety amid the silent world.

From the glance she caught, the pony looked to be a turquoise earth pony with a purple tail. Her cutie mark was a cluster of ornate looking shells, it was beautiful, being honest.

She was the first pony Twilight had seen since waking up to find Ponyville completely deserted, and Twilight could barely summon the energy to pretend to care about her.

Something greater was yet to come. Twilight had to believe.

Her forelegs begged for release, her wings were trees on fire, each branch a new line in a poem of vitriolic agony.

The pony returned.

She wasn’t alone.

And the second Twilight saw her, somehow still the beautiful grey of a winter’s sky, untouched by the chaos, she felt less weak.

Considerably less weak.

Rarity listened to some hushed report offered by the earth pony, but her attention seemed divided. She didn’t seem right. And then she grasped the side of her head like she was in pain.

And Twilight felt stronger. And she looked at Rarity’s horn and licked her lips like she was a timberwolf stalking a lost filly, adrift in the everfree with no one to protect them. Rarity had no one to protect her, she was in charge, the guard had said.

Twilight must have really loved Rarity, she was noticeably stronger just by looking at her, looking at her horn, looking at her aura.

Rarity fell, some far part of Twilight told her she should care. Twilight oddly didn’t.

Rarity rolled over, Twilight saw some gash on the inside of her foreleg she must have gotten sometime after coming down here. It must have been recent, it wasn’t properly healed. Twilight looked at Rarity’s horn, Twilight felt stronger, Rarity convulsed, the wound reopened.

Twilight saw the blood.

Blood.

Luna cocked her head, and cut open her own cheek, and stood silently as the blood poured down her face.

The memories returned to Twilight like a being in the centre of a tsunami, rushing with all the power of the vengeful, spiteful earth. Twilight threw herself from the rocks as fast as she could, and she didn’t stop running until the sound of her hooves were fully stolen by the never-ending whispers of the silent wind.

Author's Note

Sooo congrats to anyone who didn't read the spoiler in the long description, this is actually also, and arguably much moreso than a sequel to The Silent Wind, a Shadow Within sequel.

Working Hard To Get My Fill, Everybody Wants a Thrill

Luna looked at her levelly, seemingly unmoved by Twilight’s brazen defiance. It was amazing, how much of what Twilight did recently that seemed to prove utterly, totally futile. Then she cocked her head, and cut open her own cheek, and stood silently as the blood poured down her face.

“And what will you do if I don’t give you this?” Luna asked, as Twilight watched the drops hit the floor.

“I can find other ways of dealing with this,” Twilight said.

And she believed that.

Because she had to.

But a wobble in her voice betrayed her.

“You really are a remarkable specimen, Twilight, truly. To have gone as long as you have without draining any magic from Rarity, it defies belief. I wonder now, whether my sister ascended you not out of esteem, but out of fear. Out of self-preservation.” Luna said, seeming darkly pleased with how Twilight looked at the sanguine liquid, “That niece of hers up North in the frozen waste is a winged unicorn, nothing more, incapable of even using the elements. But you, Twilight? My sister was right, you can be a real alicorn.”

Twilight would have crawled over to lick Luna’s blood off the marble, a few metres away, such was her hunger. Thankfully for her pride, her limbs wouldn’t manage the trip.

“I told you before about the genocide that our subjects enacted upon our species, the gods by which they live. Imagine them with you at their helm? They would have been unstoppable. Like they were when they had my sister. But of course, to lead something like that, you’d need to be at full strength, wouldn’t you?” Luna asked, still tauntingly standing too far for Twilight to cross the distance. Her horn lit and she seized Twilight’s wing, folding it over and regarding it appraisingly, “A shame that is the case no longer,”

“I will not drain Rarity, I won’t live as a parasite. I’d rather die,” Twilight spat.

“Oh you won’t, my sister would never allow it. But more than that, you’d never allow it. You’d lose your mind before you got to that point and you’d take every bit of magic from her until nothing at all remained. And that, my student, is when your mind would return to you. And all that needs to happen is that you no longer have a source of alicorn blood to keep you going,”

“You’d…” Twilight muttered, struggling to stay awake, “You’d do that… I grew up loving ponies, not feeding off them, I can wait a while longer,”

“Still not listening, are we? Once again, my stude-”

“I… I am not your student!” Twilight barked, feral and dying, “Now… now tell me why you and Celestia were arguing.”

“As I said, do not deign to interfere in the business of gods,”

Twilight rolled over onto her back, looking at the ceiling. The delicate tilework depicted the alicorn sisters, and Twilight couldn’t help but laugh.

“Care to share with the teacher?” Luna asked.

The ceiling’s version of Celestia was a relatively modest design. She stood, unassumingly, lit by a sun that decorated her background with warm looking light.

Luna, on the other hand, was resplendent. She was up on her hindlegs, prancing in ful pride and fierceness and carpeted by an infinite universe of shifting stars, made from precious metals laced into the tiles themselves.

She looked like a god.

“You’re so much less than her…” Twilight said, and laughed again.

The temperature of the room dropped considerably.

Twilight didn’t care if Luna came over and stamped her head into a mess of bone and brain.

She could have done without the godhood. She’d be glad to be rid of it.

To Twilight’s surprise, Luna simply began to talk.

“My sister and I were arguing because we were unable to defeat Tirek, as we had countless times in the past. Were we at full strength, we could have parted with him with his eyes and ears, then flayed him living, reducing his entire universe to agony before drinking his magic and his power and his soul. But we couldn’t do that, because we cannot feed like we used to, we can only do as if the act is some shameful secret,

“My sister and I were arguing because her regime is rotten and will lead to nothing but ruin for this entire world because its gods are eating nothing more than rations, and must rely on a whelp who’s stubbornness is killing her. We were arguing because she has weakened you her entire life by filling your head with a fantastical, fallacious philosophy that she doesn’t even believe herself. Her domain is, and always has been, lies, and I respect that lies have their place in governance, but sometimes it is time to wake up from the dream.”

Twilight rolled over and looked at Luna, who had her back to Twilight. She was lightly, almost affectionately, stroking the Dias with a forehoof.

“So if she, and you, and that half-breed in the Crystal Empire refuse to wake up from your slumber, then I will do my duty, as I always have. I will watch over your dreams, heedless of disapproval, or disdain, or disgust, and I will do what I need to to continue my parent’s line. I will not allow anymore alicorns to perish, Twilight.”

“Wh…what are you going to do?”

That inscrutable face moved so close to Twilight’s, who cursed herself as she was unable to refrain from opening her mouth and craning her neck to lick the blood off Luna’s cheek. But the moon princess wasn’t for moving, and she pulled back before Twilight was able to.

“Fear not my student, for this is a lesson, and I will educate you… sleep.”

And Twilight was unable to resist the dreamlord’s request.

XXX

Twilight dreamed of mares withhite white coats, warm bodies that smelled of perfume. She looked up, seeing above her the blessed maiden with forelegs outstretched. And then her purple mane gave way to pink and blue and green, and wings larger than anything Twilight had ever seen, and the warmth became scorching heat.

And the comfort of love became the awe of the presence of an angel.

Twilight’s eyes fluttered open, she had been moved to a plush bed in the royal chambers. Celestia was looking down on her, a serene smile on her face, crying tears of blood.

The droplets were falling from her cheeks and landing onto Twilight’s outstretched tongue. The coppery taste had once made her vomit.

Now it felt disgustingly like home.

“You’re not out of the cycle, my dear,” Celestia said, a sad smile ensconced by two red rivers, “Blueblood sustains me, and I sustain you. You’re still feeding, as an alicorn would. One level removed, still consuming magic of our subjects, just in a roundabout way.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you ask me before you did this to me?” Twilight said, finding the renewed strength and clearness of mind allowing her to cry her own tears. Completely clear, nothing more than salty, colourless liquid.

“I believed you’d understand. I truly did, I do, because I believe in you Twilight.”

“This isn’t living,”

“You’re not going to hurt Rarity, Twilight. When have I ever lied to you?”

“You told me I’d be a good princess,” Twilight said, cursing herself for how she sniffled so pathetically, “You pretended my whole life that I wasn’t your prey.”

“You are not my prey, Twilight,” Celestia said, her face screwing up in frustration, her need for Twilight to understand written in every worry line, “I wish I could make you understand. Our feeding need not hurt those who sustain us. Milking a cow hardly kills it, does it? Picking apples doesn’t hurt the tree, which can live for millennia!”

“I’m scared of Luna, I think she’s going to do something,” Twilight confessed, and Celestia tilted her head in confusion, “Ever since the ascension, she’s been different. Ever since that night she visited me in my dreams. She doesn’t treat me like a friend anymore. She doesn’t treat anyone like a friend anymore. All that work from nightmare night is gone. She’s been looking at everyone like…”

Twilight wanted to say she was looking at ponies like they were prey.

“...like they’re less than her.”

“I know you mean well, Twilight,” Celestia replied tenderly, “But it’ll take more than nightmare night celebrations years ago to make Luna come around. She may try not to show it, but she’s not remotely adjusted to these times. I’ve had a millennia to do so, it may take her the same amount of time… why are you scared of her?”

“That night I heard you arguing… the things she’s been saying in her lessons…”

“Let me guess, she’s going on about that Dias she loves so much?” Celestia said, rolling her eyes as if the news was nothing, “She’s always had a flair for the dramatic, that one. I used to keep a little book with her myriad of colourful threats in there, between you and I. Pay her no mind Twilight, she never means anything by them,”

She did once, Twilight didn’t say.

“Luna told me that you’re not at full strength, that’s why you needed me to defeat Tirek, is that true?” Twilight asked, feeling like a parasite as she opened her mouth to catch another drop of blood.

“It… it’s true that we used to be much more brazen with our…feeding. And we’ve paid for it dearly, Twilight,”

“Why did you used to be more brazen?” Twilight pressed.

“I offer no excuses.” Celestia replied simply, “We were wrong, all of us were wrong. We were new to our lives, new to our godhood, and we were wrong,”

“But I’m new to godhood,” Twilight countered, and began to shake with sobs. Celestia leant in and pressed her face against Twilight. The two tried to provide each other some modicum of comfort. Celestia licked Twilight’s mane as a mother would a child.

Twilight licked the blood from her second mother’s cheeks.

“Twilight, you are the most remarkable mare I have ever met,” Celestia began, pulling her head back to look Twilight in the eyes, “You can, and will be a far stronger god than me or Luna… however. I know you don’t want to hurt Rarity, but the more and more you starve yourself, the less control you’ll have over yourself, you’re dangerous when you’re like that, Twilight. I wish you’d let me help you. I don’t know how much longer we can keep feeding you our blood. Look at what happened with Tirek, what if we’re not here one day?”

“Luna… Luna told me once…” Twilight said, her voice speeding up in a panic, “That I might drain all of Ponyville,”

“I don’t say this to upset you, Twilight, only because I owe you the truth,” Celestia began. The curtains billowed behind her, blowing open as the room was filled with a bright, white light, “You are the element of magic… you are the single strongest mage I’ve ever known… an alicorn like you? If it got bad enough? I worry you’d drain the whole world.”

Paying Anything To Roll The Dice, Just One More Time

Twilight doubled over and vomited down a drain.

She didn’t remember the last time she felt so overwhelmingly alive.

It was horrifying.

Her limbs coursed with so much energy. Her horn crackled. How much had she taken? She hadn’t even cared when she saw Rarity in agony. All she’d wanted was to drink her until nothing remained.

Maybe she had…

Twilight doubled over and vomited once more.

All she wanted to do was go back and check if Rarity was okay, but she couldn’t… because then she’d see her again.

And then she’d feed again.

With her now returned senses, she could see how poor her maths had been. She had far longer than months, even without the magic from the sun and the moon. The grass would die eventually, but it was fine for now. As was all the bread and canned food that she’d eaten and felt like she was dying.

It was all fine.

The grass hadn’t been rotten at all, that wouldn’t happen for months.

The issue was that her body was rejecting it. Because she needed meat, meat and magic stripped from the pony she loved the most in the world.

She wished Fluttershy was here, with some of that chicken, and a kind word.

She wished Applejack was here, to tell her the hard truths she needed to hear.

She wished Rainbow was here, she’d stick by her no matter what.

She wished Pinkie was here, to make her laugh despite it all.

She wished Spike was here, because she loved him so much it made her stomach hurt.

But of course, none of them were here.

Twilight had killed them all.

She shook uncontrollably, barely able to comprehend it. She couldn’t comprehend it. Her mind simply rejected the horrifying truth.

She had killed princesses and every single one of her friends and family, and then she’d killed the entire world for good measure. Celestia had been right. Luna had been right.

Once again, her mind simply couldn’t take it in.

That’s why Rarity was in the crystal catacombs. She’d felt it before, in those early days when Twilight tried to feed off her responsibly, before she’d decided it wasn’t worth the risk and cut off all contact. So many months exchanging no more than heartbroken letters, Rarity begging her to come home. Holed up in Canterlot castle ignoring the warnings of Celestia and Luna, before murdering them and everyone else anyway.

Rarity must have known the feeling the second Twilight lost control for the last time. She must have been in Canterlot for the day, maybe trying to visit Twilight. And then she got as many ponies as she could down into the crystal catacombs, the one place her magic wouldn’t reach.

And now Twilight knew exactly where the last ponies alive were.

And now there was no more alicorn blood to feed on.

She smashed a shop window with her foreleg and grabbed a shard of glass, then pressed it against her neck. That issue did at least have a simple solution…

And yet, Twilight faltered…

What good would it do?

Rarity and the others, if they were strong enough to even shift those rocks, would come out to a world that would slowly die around them, and then they would die too. Without the magic of the sun and moon returning, the world would go quiet whether Twilight killed herself now, or whether she went back and drained them all dry.

Twilight screamed and punched more windows through. The shards ripped her leg again and again and again and again and she bled furiously over the previously undisturbed displays of wares from merchants that didn’t exist anymore.

Because they’d been eaten to keep her alive.

Twilight screamed harder.

She finally lost her balance and slipped onto her backside, regarding the mess around her through a fog of anger and tears. The ground was stained with great, heavy drops of blood from her arm. She flicked her tongue out, catching some that had stained her face in the fracas. It was coppery, sharp.

It felt disgustingly, enticingly, rapturously, shameful, like home.

She thought back to the last time she could remember seeing Celestia, stooped over, crying red tears for Twilight to suckle. Allowing herself to be consumed.

She had so much power. She felt like her old self. Even from that one feeding. Alicorns were truly remarkable creatures, unmatched in their potency.

Twilight turned and looked towards the palace, seeing the glint of the gilded roof of the principal tower, illuminated by the impotent sun. Its position was both functional, and as testament to the importance of what lay within.

Twilight allowed herself a humourless chuckle. Wasn’t it funny, after all she’d said and done, that she wasn’t really ready?

She rooted around in her saddlebag, forgoing the use of any magic. She withdrew that same photograph, and allowed her eyes to take it all in, not just her and Rarity’s little slice of space and time. All her friends, colleagues from the university, her family, Shining and Cadence.

But if Twilight was being honest with herself, she didn’t carry this photo around because it had so many of the ponies she loved the most in the world in it, she had plenty of photos like that.

She kept this one because she was still a unicorn, still her old self. There was no resplendency in her back then, no large stature nor coat or mane that seem to naturally organise themselves into the picture of immortal beauty.

No, this Twilight was a bookish mare in appearance as well as spirit. Her mane was brushed spartanly, her appearance an arrangement into mere presentability. She was plump, she didn’t get enough exercise and she was sitting on her tail, rather than fanning it out as so many other mares did. Rarity had always tried to get her to stop, but she liked doing it. She didn’t know why.

Twilight missed not needing to know why she was doing things.

She’d like to talk to this mare in the picture. She wanted to hold her, and tell her to stay in her library.

She was better in there.

The principal tower stuck out like a beacon, calling her to the end.

Stop herself from hurting anyone else? Try to find some mote of redemption, if one even existed? Give the gift of life, and never take it away, ever again?

Okay.

XXX

The Dias, like the rest of the whole world, was untouched. As she had made more than clear at the time, Twilight had no need for Luna’s lessons. They had never taught her anything, and had only been designed as tedious sermons to wear down her spirit until she agreed voluntarily to listen to all of her prattle about the nature of alicorns.

She wished she’d actually done so.

She wished she could have another lesson, from Celestia, from the mare who’d taught her all she knew.

She thought of other ponies that she’d killed.

Her legs gave from under her, and Twilight steeled her mind. This wasn’t about her. It wouldn’t do to give into despair now.

Twilight had already been taught about the Dias by Celestia. It was a marvel of magical engineering, and one of the most terrifying weapons ever created. Do a small spell on this, and it could amplify it out. The butterfly effect given perfect form. Give it a push, it could create a storm. Give it a storm, it could create an apocalypse.

Twilight was going to give it a supernova. Maybe it would be enough.

Because the amount of energy it would have taken to restore the sun and moon’s magic was nigh incomprehensible. Every unicorn in the world could have tried for the rest of their lives simultaneously and failed.

But the magic of an alicorn? The essence of an alicorn?

That might do it.

It was shockingly simple, really. All she had to do was tilt the mirrored surface so that it faced the sun, and then she needed to feed it. The moon, as it often did, would follow.

But she needed to feed them with all the energy she had.

Minus a tiny, near-inconsequential piece.

She needed that for something else.

In her walk over to the tower, she’d not really thought of anything. If she thought of the world she’d scoured clean, her legs would have abandoned her. If she thought of the task ahead, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to keep going.

Contrary to what she would have liked to have expected from herself, Twilight didn’t want to die.

Twilight wanted to live, she wanted to be reunited with Rarity.

Contrary to what Twilight would have liked to have expected from herself, she wasn’t consumed by self-hatred.

Twilight could recognise herself as a mare who acted without sanity, and that it had been taken from her by a new body and a new biology in which she never belonged. Twilight would have liked to hug that unicorn in the picture right about now.

But, more than that, she would have liked that unicorn to hug her.

The spell to burn her own essence in the Dias was almost insultingly easy. This wasn’t something that was going to take hours to set up. There would be no last meal, no eulogy. Twilight was in complete control. She formulated the process in her head, adding a small self-inhibitor charm to prevent her from stopping once she’d started, and she was ready to go at any time.

She didn’t want to go.

She didn’t want to do it.

Twilight felt a tear roll down her cheek and cursed herself, crying was a waste of energy and she wouldn’t get another injection of it.

She thought of Celestia, she thought of her mum and dad. She thought of her brother and Cadence. She thought of her friends. She thought that plump little unicorn who’d only ever wanted to learn, and help her friends.

She thought of Rarity.

That was all she needed.

Twilight breathed once, then twice.

She took that one small piece of energy, the one she had saved. She cast a teleportation spell, but stayed put. That would take effect a little while from now. She cast another spell, and in some far off place the sound of a dull, thudding blast rang out.

Twilight breathed again.

She, of course, might survive the process. The essence of an alicorn was potent stuff, of course. Maybe the spell wouldn’t need all of her to restart the sun and moon? Maybe she’d survive.

Twilight believed there was a chance she’d survive and she held onto it with every single bit of willpower she could afford to summon.

Twilight needed to believe she might survive. Twilight needed to believe she would survive, otherwise she didn’t think she’d go through it.

She very well might survive.

Twilight believed she would see Rarity again.

She breathed once more.

Twilight wasn’t sure what she believed anymore.

God, it felt good to breathe.

God, it felt good to be alive.

Twilight cast the spell.

XXX

Coquillage had gone to grab another one of the guards to help. To Rarity’s eternal shame, she didn’t actually understand Prench very well. A short while back she may have blanched with the admission, but times had forced a rethink of priorities.

She was comparatively relaxed, compared to those buzzing around ever. Ever since they’d come down here, she knew all she had to do was wait. She’d believed from the very first moment that Twilight was alive, that she’d find her. She’d never stopped, not once.

She took a shuddering, steadying breath.

Even so, it was nice to finally have it confirmed.

Belief only took you so far.

Rarity had no idea what lay behind the rocks she’d brought down. Sometimes she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to find out. But if Twilight was out there, then it couldn’t have been as bad as she was expecting.

“Rarity, we need to get the others and as many weapons we can grab. That thing might come back,”

She shook herself for a moment, trying to shake off the fog in her head. It had been a long time since she’d felt anything like this.

“Oh she will be back dearie, but there’s no need to get any weapons.”

Ivory, a large black pegasus that had been elected unopposed as head of the guard looked at her as if she’d gone insane.

They’d all thought she was insane, at first.

When she’d started screaming through the streets of Canterlot, trying to get as many as she could to follow her as dawn broke. Telling them they were going to die if they didn’t come with her right now. She imagined it was only her reputation as an element and as one of Canterlot’s leading designers that had gotten anyone to follow her.

And then, the sky lighting up brighter than anyone had ever seen probably convinced more than a couple too. ‘Bring as much food as you can carry, and follow me into the catacombs… otherwise you’ll die’. Rarity almost chuckled at the image, she must have looked insane. Laughter was a good way of dealing with all of this. It was at the very least more productive than despair.

“Rarity, I’m sorry but I have to insist, whatever that was nearly killed you.”

“Pish posh,” Rarity said with a wave of her hoof, she may have been fabulous but she was the furthest thing from vulnerable, “She’s not dangerous, darling, she’s scared and confused. All I need to do is speak with her,”

“You know this thing?” he asked, looking at the main air hole in the rubble with concern.

“She’s the reason we’re here, darling. That was Twilight Sparkle.”

Ivory dropped his spear.

Before he could say anything, there was a distinct cracking sound coming from the rock.

“Both of you get back!” Rarity yelled, shepherding Ivory and Coquillage to the back of the crystal catacombs’ entrychamber. For a moment, nothing moved. When the blast came, she could have wept for the shade of magenta that blew the rubble away.

Coquillage and Ivory hurtled back into the tunnels, trying to calm the rest of the ponies down there who had begun to head to the exit to investigate.

But Rarity was unconcerned with that. She was only concerned with who was outside to meet her.

So, heedless of what the new world may have been, Rarity ran as fast as her legs could carry her out of the sanctuary they’d made.

Because Rarity believed in Twilight.

But there was no one out here to meet her.

And the sky was still aflame.

From the tallest tower of Canterlot Castle, a beam of energy more intense and terrifying than Rarity had ever seen blazed into the sky, directly towards the sun. The sound was like rocks being ground to powder, it was like the collision of tectonic plates. It was like every wave in every sea crashing against her at the same time.

And as quickly as it had seemingly begun, the beam stopped.

Rarity lowered the hoof she’d instinctively raised to prevent herself from being blinded.

The sunlight felt warm on her fur, and the wind seemed to pick up. She felt strong again, in a way she hadn’t since this had all started.

But still, Twilight was nowhere to be seen.

XXX

Twilight fell from the Dias and onto the marble floor. She could barely think, she could barely breathe. She was spent. Some far off part of her could have almost laughed at how unspoiled she looked on the outside. Like she was completely normal. Like she’d never entered the tower at all.

She hadn’t the presence of mind to offer any contrasting commentary.

Twilight slipped into unconsciousness as her teleportation spell threw her to somewhere other than this tower.

She was at least still present enough to be grateful for that.

She wanted to die looking at something beautiful.

The Movie Never Ends, It Goes On And On And On And On

The curtains billowed behind Celestia, blowing open as the room was filled with a bright, white light from behind her, “You are the element of magic… you are the single strongest mage I’ve ever known… an alicorn like you? If it got bad enough? I worry you’d drain the whole world.”

Twilight felt her heart quicken with the warning as Celestia suddenly began to look around, visibly confused.

“Princess, is something wrong?” Twilight asked, getting up in the bed, she squinted in the morning light filtering through the curtains.

Only something was wrong. The light was only coming through one window, and the rest of them were darkened. They looked like it was still nighttime.

Celestia didn’t answer, and walked over to the window through which the light was coming through. Twilight, now feeling much stronger after her sustenance, was able to get up and join her teacher.

The Principal Tower, highest of all Canterlot Palace, home of the Dias, was lit up for all the world to see. The light was sliver, stark. Like that of the moon. Twilight’s insides felt cold, however Celestia seemed more irritated than anything else.

“What tantrum is she having now?” the princess muttered under her breath, before turning to Twilight, “Twilight dear, it would seem Luna is conducting some sort of experiment with precious regard for the light pollution laws I set up for her benefit. I need to go and speak with her, but there’s nothing to worry about, okay? Please just rest.”

Before Twilight could ask any further questions, Celestia had vanished in a flash of sunlight.

Twilight remembered listening through their door that night. It seemed so long ago now, almost within the same time period as those arguments she listened to from her parents. The same level of distance and quaintness retroactively applied, seemingly incompatible with the horror of her current existence.

Twilight had always been a curious mare, a compulsive mare. Twilight wouldn’t be able to rest until she knew everything was alright. So, against her better judgement, surrendering to nothing but that screaming voice that told she needed to know. Twilight teleported over there as well.

When she reappeared the wind was immediately knocked out of her, a testament to how weak she still was. She slumped to her haunches as she had done, only a couple of hours previous in this exact same place.

She was so tired of feeling weak.

“I have asked already asked you once, little sister, I will only do so once more. Explain what you are doing with the Dias,”

Twilight looked up, Luna was looking over at her while Celestia kept her eyes firmly on her sister, even as she strafed around to put herself between the two of them. Luna’s gaze moved onto Celestia, and her expression was one of deep affront.

“Your stance would imply you think I mean our student harm, dear sister,”

“She’s my student, not yours,” Celestia replied, voice more dangerous than Twilight had ever heard it, “I don’t know what madness made me think you’d be able to teach Twilight about our ways, but you have failed, the poor filly can barely stand. Your lessons are at an end, Luna,”

“I would never hurt an alicorn,” Luna spat, ignoring Celestia’s declaration outright, “I was merely waiting until she joined us to explain what I was doing. More regard than you’ve ever given her, more regard than you’ve ever given me either,”

“Oh spare me with this, Luna,” Celestia bit back, voice totally devoid of sympathy. “You have come back from your failed coup, immediately had the return of your station and titles and you still are claiming unfair treatment from me? What else could you possibly want?”

“You know what I want,”

“Those times are over, gone, done. Next time, if you want to stick around for the transition period, maybe don’t make me imprison you within the moon for a millennia,”

“You did that for them, not me.” Luna countered.

“If I was doing something for them, dear sister, I would have slit your throat and then my own, for good measure,”

Twilight looked up weakly. The two of them were snout to snout, horns crackling. Twilight had never seen them like this before, she shivered pathetically, before her eye caught Luna’s.

The moon princess regarded her with disgust.

“Look at how she cowers.” Luna sneered, “You didn’t even blood the whelp before ascending her. Just another thing I will need to do for her own good,”

“Tell me what you are doing with the Dias before I render you incapable of doing anything,” Celestia said, stamping her hoof against the marble so loudly that Twilight thought she may vomit.

Luna said nothing, looking at her evenly.

Celestia’s face was like it always was in Twilight’s most anxious nightmares. Disappointment beyond measure.

“Oh Luna… again?” the elder sister said derisively, her manner of speaking more reminiscent of a parent finding that their child had wet the bed than someone who was being confronted with a coup, “Are you really going to make me do this again?”

“Then call the elements… you’ve got the element of magic right there… I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard to send me to the moon for another millennia. I’m even unarmed, unaided. No Nightmare this time… so if you’re going to do it…” Luna said, her tone one of absolute assurance, “Then do it.”

Celestia regarded Luna, shaking her head.

“I have other ways of preventing you from taking this course of action Luna-”

“Then take them, I will do this, Celestia. All I need to do is cast the spell, and I won’t get it wrong this time, I’ve had one thousand years to rework this, dear sister. So you can either banish me, or you can kill me… or I can change the spell.”

Celestia’s eyes narrowed.

“What… what is she doing?” Twilight rasped, returning to her hooves.

Neither alicorn replied, before Luna, retaining dangerous eye contact with her sister, began to trot over.

“Luna I’m warning you, do not-”

“Do you remember what I told you about the long night, Twilight Sparkle? The Eternal Madness, do you know why it was called that? My plan was never to have the world be dark forever, my plan was to use the magic of the moon with the Dias. My plan had been elegant. My sphere controls the energies of the mind, it safeguards ponies in their dreams, but it doesn’t have to…”

“She sent the whole country insane,” Celestia said, looking down at the floor, “The worst civil war the world had ever seen. A globe in the thrall of a maelstrom of bloody violence. She robbed them of their sanities, stolen into the dream realm, and what returned from that slumber were violent beasts, not ponies, it nearly destroyed everything. Whatever the nightmare did took years to wear off,”

“Ponies are violent beasts,” Luna interjected furiously, “Do you remember our friends, our parents? Our little brother? Ripped apart by their prey, killed down to the last. Only you and I to continue. Do you remember any of it?! And after all our family died, you sided with their murderers to help hunt down your own kind. Do you remember?! ” Luna screamed.

“Of course I remember.” Celestia retorted, her voice rivalling her sister’s.

“Then why do you love them? Why did you side with them?! Why did you send me away? Why won’t you sendt me away again and have done with it?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU MORE.” Celestia bellowed, her nigh-unheard royal voice shaking the tower, “I had a choice, Luna, fight with the alicorns, and die, or pledge us to the serfs, and live. I told you once, and I will not stop telling you. I will continue mother and father’s line. With your leave, or without it. And helping to kill every other alicorn who’d ever lived was a small price to pay for you to still be here.”

Twilight looked over the edge of the tower, seeing lights begin to switch on across the city. The commotion was waking ponies up. She wondered if Rarity was awake, too. She was in Canterlot at the moment. Twilight would of course never go, but she remembered well the invitation, stained in beautiful, charmingly dramatic fashion by tear stains, arriving in the post.

Twilight had no doubt said tear stains were fake, administered by an eye dropper and done in the service of wooing Twilight with the great, dramatic romance of it all.

Twilight loved her beyond mortal comprehension.

Certainly beyond immortal comprehension.

“Rarity, if you can hear me, you need to get into the crystal catacombs, take as many ponies with you and get into the crystal catacombs, as deep as you can where you’ll be shielded from magic. Otherwise you will die. Blast the entranceway, leave an airhole that won’t let anyone get in. Take as much food as you can. Do not try to leave until I come to get you… I love you, Rarity.”

Twilight let the thoughts leave her mind, and with a faint glow of her horn, sent them to wherever Rarity may be. And then she made them repeat themselves, over and over and over.

All she could do was hope she got the message.

“If you love Celestia so much, why did you try to get the country to kill her?” Twilight asked, snapping Luna’s attention back to her.

“It was the nightmare,” Luna replied darkly, “My plan had always been to unite the country in resistance to Celestia, hypnotise the population to overthrow and imprison her, and be loyal to me. But once that parasite seized me, it wanted for nothing but bloodlust and rampage, and ‘eternal night’ as if I could ever be so vain.”

The moon princess spat on the floor,

“Back then, our disagreements were still about how to treat the population. I favoured a distinctly more martial approach. I could have never imagined the depths to which she’d stoop,” Luna said, looking at her sister in disappointed horror, “To return to a world like this, where we must hide our nature, where ponies treat us as their servant… I thought I could adapt, I thought I could see what you wanted me to see, but it’s simply not right.

“I agree with you, my sister, my one, only love, on one thing. I will continue our parents’ line, with or without your leave.”

Twilight watched them both.

For time that Twilight uncharacteristically didn’t mark, nothing happened.

“Princess, you need to stop her,” Twilight spoke up. Neither princess looked her way.

“Princess,” Twilight whined, pulled her teacher’s tail and feeling like a filly again, “You need to stop her,”

“Be quiet, Twilight!” Celestia snapped, shocking the weakened alicorn into silence. The sun princess took a few steadying breaths, before turning to address her sister once more, “Nothing happens to Twilight,”

“I would never hurt another alicorn,” Luna countered darkly.

“Then count yourself lucky,” Celestia bit back.

“Don’t… don’t you…” Twilight’s coughed threatened to return for a moment, before she was able to banish them and stand, finding strength for once in something other than the blood of her second mother, “Don’t you fucking tell me to be quiet!”

Both princesses turned to face her again, regarding the interruption with confusion rather than outrage.

“Haven’t you heard what she’s going to do?! She’s going to send everyone insane. We need to call the elements,” she cried, her stomach bubbling with absolute fury and disgust. Twilight wheeled on Celestia as the sun princess opened her mouth to interject, “Don’t you interrupt me, don’t you even dare.. I have saved your nation more times than I can count, and now it’s your turn. You are kept living by the magic of your citizens, and you’re debating with this fucking tyrant because she doesn’t feel adequately worshiped by everyone for simply being alive. How dare you, if you make me do this for you, again, then I will never forgive you Celestia. It’s time for you to be brave for me, okay?!”

Neither princess said anything, until Luna chuckled, regarding Twilight with some twisted approximation of affection and pride.

“You were right, my sister, this one will make an excellent alicorn," Luna purred.

“Twilight, please…” Celestia said, looking into Twilight’s eyes, “I’ve lost her once, she’s my only sister.”

Those eyes were less frightening when they were crying blood.

“You can banish me Celestia, or I will send the population into a revolt against you,”

“Yes yes yes,” Celestia said, waving her hoof impatiently, “And what’s your third little option, I know there must be one so just spit it out,”

“Well, you could always kill me,”

“Be serious,”

Twilight watched them, they discussed the matter like a board game where neither party fully agreed to the rules.

But then, this probably was a game to them, wasn’t it?

“I will pacify them. I won’t rob them of their sanity. I will take their personalities. They can be like cattle. We can feed and return to our full strength,”

“That’s what you want? A country of drones,” Celestia replied, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.

“I will not tolerate this world a moment longer, Celestia. What did father always say was the key to a good ruler? Hmm? What did he say?”

Celestia sighed, looking for the first time in Twilight’s whole life as the true sum of her years.

“Compromise,” she replied.

“We can find a new way to rule. You, me and your student here, but we need a clean slate, unless you’d prefer a cull?” Luna demanded, while Twilight backed away from them in horror.

“Rarity, crystal catacombs, run.”

Twilight decided that would get to the heart of things a bit better.

“And what of everything I’ve built? The world I’ve made?” Celestia asked, though the sickening resignation in her voice made Twilight think the argument had rather run its course.

“If you are going to have me by your side, that is the toll. We are to reset, and make something that we can both exist within. Otherwise, you can send me to the moon for another millennia and kick this can down the road, because I will say the same thing when I return, dear sister. There’s no nightmare to addle my spells any longer. I will do this, one way or another.”

“Celestia,” Twilight said, trying to force every memory and every emotion and every bit of history they had into her voice, to make her teacher see sense, she didn’t even notice Luna fading into smoke in the corner of her eye.

The sun princess, for all her benevolent looking sadness, was unmoved.

“You’re… you’re not better at all,” Twilight said, backing away, “You’re just like her. You don’t care about normal ponies at all, you only care about yourselves, you both do!”

“I’m sorry Twilight,” Celestia replied, “But I promise you, we can live long enough for me to help you understand.”

Twilight would have run, were it not for the moon princess rematerialising beside Twilight’s ear.

“Sleep.”

Twilight fell to the ground.

“If you’ve hurt her…” Celestia growled.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Luna retorted, “Gods be good I can get her a good meal when the poor whelp awakens,”

“She’s going to hate you… she’s going to despise me. For the rest of our lives.” Celestia said despondently.

“For the rest of their lives, perhaps. But forever is a long time, dear sister, she’ll understand, in time,”

“Will they suffer?” Celestia asked, only to be met with a scoff from Luna.

“The hordes who slew our family?”

“Those hordes have been dead a long time, thanks in no small part to you. I ask you again, will they suffer,”

“If you care so much for them, why are you letting me do this?” Luna queried as she attended to the Dias.

“I’ve already told you,” Celestia said, “Because I love you more,”

Luna was silent for a moment.

“It will just be like falling asleep,”

“You’re sparing them the pain?” Celestia sounded surprised, “Can I ask why?”

“Because…” Luna began, keeping her eyes on the Dias, “I love you more.”

Luna’s spell was effective.

But it wasn’t elegant.

And it certainly wasn’t remotely intelligent.

Twilight regarded it with disgust as she poked around the various charms and clauses and counter clauses. Her suspicion had been pricked the moment she didn’t detect the small counter charm Twilight had cast. She’d already gotten her with her ‘sleep’ trick once. It was rare the element of magic succumbed to the same charm twice.

But Luna probably couldn’t even conceive of being outsmarted by Twilight, and her spell reflected it. It was sophomoric, pathetic, worthless, smugness and unearned self-satisfaction radiated off every shoddy piece of its thoroughly underwhelming puzzle.

She kept her eyes closed as she fluttered around in aether-space. Watching each vertex of the tangled web of points that formed the spell with which Luna would charge with moonlight before rendering the world into a grey, listless army of slaves. Livestock for her, and Celestia, and Twilight to fatten themselves on. An endless legacy of slavery and tyranny.

She guessed, in that sense, Luna had at least done what she said. She’d continued their parents’ line.

Twilight was exhausted, whatever blood licked from Celestia’s cheeks now spent. She was scarcely sane any longer. She reached out into the aether and tried to find Rarity. Tried to send her another message, but so many ponies had woken up now. It was too hard to find her in her current state.

She opened her eye a crack and looked at the two sisters. The two of them had moved closer to each other as Luna put the finishing touches on the Dias. They looked closer than they had in a long time.

They loved one another.

Twilight thought of all of the things she loved. She thought of Fluttershy’s gentleness and kindness, Applejack’s honesty, sometimes to a fault. She thought of Rainbow’s cocksure grin, hiding behind it such a sea of loyalty and deceptive depths of feeling. She thought of how Pinkie could make her laugh more than anything. She thought of Spike, her little brother, finally starting to come into his own as a young man.

And she thought of Rarity. Her dramatics, her haughtiness, her mock outrage and high standards. These may have bothered others but Twilight loved her more than anything for them, not in spite of them. They were their own charm.

And that was to say nothing of her generosity, her intrinsic goodness and kindness. The depths of her love for all those dear to her, seemingly never ending. Out there, in the aether, a cluster of lights seemed to move as one, led by one that was so bright, so warm, such a beautiful shade of sapphire blue.

All these things would be lost, and never brought back again. All these things scrubbed clear, bodies nothing more than vessels to be sapped by gods.

Twilight thought of every single thing she loved.

For the first time in her life, she felt like she finally, truly understood what hatred felt like.

Twilight was scarcely sane.

Twilight didn’t want to hurt anyone.

Twilight didn’t know if she was doing the right thing.

But Twilight had to try to stop it.

Even if she only saved a single pony.

Luna’s spell was a mess of tangled lines, but it was laughably easy to unpick. She thought of magic like one would a list. She thought of it as a series of problems to address. Defence from counter charms, check. Self perpetuating to keep it casting if she was incapacitated, check. An interface to work with the Dias, check.

But her issue lay in the lack of specificity. It was an arrogant spell, befitting of a god. It was the creation of the world’s most powerful hammer, but with the assumption one would only ever use it to hit one very specific kind of nail.

What Luna had forgotten is that a hammer can hit anything you like. It could also smash your skull to powder.

Even in her current state, Twilight was able to repurpose Luna’s hammer. Changing the subjects, the purpose, the output.

Luna lit her horn.

The hammer raised.

Twilight wondered whether this would work.

Twilight steeled herself and did what she needed to, even as it felt like it would kill her.

Twilight redefined what it meant to be a nail.

“Forgive me,” Celestia replied, looking over at Twilight.

Twilight finished adapting Luna’s spell. It had taken her seconds. It was all she needed.

The hammer descended.

“Forgive me.” Twilight replied, opening her eyes and registering a split second of shock on her mentor’s face.

The Dias lit, connecting with a beam of pure energy to the moon. For a second, Luna smiled.

Then the Dias connected with the energy of the now rising sun.

Then Luna frowned.

Then Luna screamed.

The spell worked as it had been cast. It hammered nails.

The two nails in The Principal Tower, housing of the Dias, put there for both functionality and as a mark of respect for the most powerful weapon in Equestria shrieked like dying stars as all the energy of the sun and moon, magnified many times by the intricate weavings of magical glass, was pumped directly into them.

Again, and again, and again, and again.

A spare amount of energy was syphoned into Twilight. Allowing her to stand again. To feel strong again, to feel like she did when she was a unicorn again. She backed away, cringing at the horrific display. The lights were too intense to see what was happening to Luna and Celestia, but Twilight could hear enough to hazard a very good guess.

And as her mind returned, and her sanity returned, Twilight realised what was going to happen. Her legs shook in panic. The lights brightened.

Despite what she would have liked to expect from herself, she wasn’t ready to die.

The sound of rocks being blasted at the crystal catacombs went unheard by the screaming masses of Canterlot, who ran around in a blind panic. Twilight felt some odd pride at how she felt linked to them. There was no steely look of godhood in her eyes. Twilight felt like a terrified filly.

With her newfound strength, all she wanted to do was see her home again.

She teleported and was thrown across spacetime to fall in her bed, in the castle. It wasn’t her real home, of course. The smouldering remains of golden oaks would provide little cover from the oncoming storm, and she still held out some belief that she may survive this.

She had no time to prepare though, and an explosive cracking that would destroy mortal ears rang out in the now distance. The windows shone with light from the sunrise that was quickly engulfed by more light, until it looked like the brightest day she, or anyone had ever seen. And then it got brighter still.

The most powerful thing in the world was the energy released by the destruction of an alicorn. Not the death of an alicorn, but the complete and total destruction.

The blast front carried the energy of two.

It crossed the land in seconds, leaving only the protected crystal catacombs untouched. Twilight barely had to ponder whether her alicorn biology would spare her before the light knocked her unconscious, scouring her brain of memory as sure as it scoured away every mortal life from the surface of the planet.

Don’t Stop Believing, Hold Onto That Feeling

Twilight teleported to the streets outside the entrance to the crystal catacombs, falling unceremoniously in a heap. The impact shook her from her unconsciousness and the flashback.

She wasn’t a monster.

She had done her best.

She hadn’t drained the world.

She had done her best.

She spluttered and coughed.

She felt like death.

She was dying.

Despite herself, she began to hack with coarse, wet laughter. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Celestia and Luna get destroyed in a supernovae blast while she lies dying in an empty street, with dirt in her hair.

She guessed she really was a mortal at heart.

She hadn’t drained the world.

But there was no getting it all back, it would seem this was one problem she hadn’t been able to solve. Rainbow, AJ, Fluttershy, Pinkie, Spike, Shining, Cadence, Mum, Dad… she’d never see any of them again.

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

The sun felt amazing. She forgot how incredible the sun could feel. It felt better now than it ever had before.

She pulled air into her lungs, she wasn’t so sure how much more of those she’d get.

“Twilight!” Screamed a voice, and suddenly dying didn’t feel quite as bad any longer. Rarity galloped up to Twilight, who shifted as much as she was able to see her in the finally unbowed sun. Behind her, confused and frightened looking ponies began to filter out into the catacombs. First ten, then twenty, then fifty, then a hundred, then more.

Rarity had done amazingly. She’d done such a good job.

Twilight loved her so much.

Maybe it was just that. Maybe it was just because of that love that it felt like her heart was about to stop beating.

Among the crowd, Twilight saw unicorns, so ripe for the feeding.

And when Rarity got close to her, and knelt down to kiss her and cup her head, Twilight’s eyes flicked over to that horn of hers, once again.

But it was short lived.

Because Twilight remembered now, and it was rare that the element of magic would fall for the same trick twice. Twilight looked her in the eyes. How could someone be so beautiful? Maybe some questions fell outside of the realm of problems to solve.

Maybe some problems couldn’t be solved.

“Ivory, give me your spear! DO IT!” screamed Rarity to the black pegasus stallion who had wandered over.

He startled, before handing it to her. Twilight watched as she took the sharpened end and used it to reopen the cut on her foreleg. Blood, laced with magic, began to spill from it. Rarity offered it to Twilight, who tried to squirm away.

She didn’t want to hurt her again.

“Twilight, you’re not going to hurt me… I can’t lose you again… just, please… do it for me?”

Twilight wondered whether this would work. Whether she’d be able to regain her strength the same way she had from Celestia and Luna. The principleal was the same, after all, but different in practice. And even if it did work, Twilight wondered if this would be sustainable. What if she wasn’t able to feed without hurting Rarity, without hurting any of the gathered ponies.

She opened her mouth and Rarity placed the wound over it. Twilight began to suck the blood, and she felt some strength fill her body. It wasn’t a lot.

But it would do.

There was a lot that Twilight knew could be wrong here. She wasn’t even sure whether she was awake. Now the sun and moon were restored, she should be able to dream again, rather than just experience flashbacks of memories. Maybe that’s all this was. Maybe she’d teleported her unconscious body to the catacombs and all of this was simply the kindness of a grateful moon, rocking her in infinity with a lullaby.

Twilight had always been a curious mare, a compulsive mare. It was hard for her to focus until she knew exactly what was right.

But then she looked past the white hoof in her mouth and up to those eyes, crying glorious, boring mortal tears as Rarity kissed Twilight’s head and cheeks over and over again.

That was something she could focus on for now.

So Twilight kept on sucking at the wound, listening to Rarity’s assurances that she was okay, that she wasn’t hurting her, that it was all going to be okay now.

This time, Twilight decided to believe.