A Fall, Unnoticed

by Not That Anon

Rating: everyone
Tags: Princess Celestia, Tragedy, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Princess Luna, Drama
Length: 1024

Princess Luna falls. Nopony is there to catch her.

In the wake of Discord's defeat, Harmony ruled Equestria.
But the brightest fires cast the longest shadows.

Fragments of a tragedy, glimpsed through shattered glass.

Inspired by T. S. Eliot's poem, "The Waste Land"
An entry into the A Thousand Words Contest III.

Published 2024-07-09 21:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2024-07-09 21:00:00 UTC

The Burial of the Dead

“One more story, please!” the teal filly demanded, slamming her little hooves against the orange bed sheets. She paused to sip from a cup of cocoa standing on a cupboard next to her bed, and the crickets outside the window seemed to take that as a sign to start their daily song.

Elderberry smiled, shaking her head slowly. After looking at the beautiful, waning moon in the sky, she closed the book and stood up from the bed. “Tomorrow is a big day, sweetie. You wouldn’t want to oversleep and miss the start of school, would you?”

Abject fear filled the filly's wide amber eyes, reflecting the lazy flames of the fireplace. She gasped, then rose up as she started vigorously shaking her head. This made her dizzy, and soon enough, she fell onto the sheets again. “I’ll fall asleep right away, mom! Promise!”

Elderberry stifled a melodious chuckle that formed in her throat. She nuzzled her daughter, whispering, “Don’t be too nervous. I’m sure you’ll make many friends. Goodnight, dear.” She kissed the filly's forehead.

“Night, mom.”

Elderberry closed the window and drew the covers. Her husband waited just outside the room, but she shot down his playful gaze with a roll of her eyes. “We’d best follow her, sweetheart. We’re already a week behind with the west field.”

“You’re right, as always.” The stallion exaggerated a tired sigh. “No burning daylight with you on the job, honey.” He stole a quick kiss.

Unbeknownst to the family, Luna died.

What the Thunder Said

The lone mare makes her way through the ancient road, now overgrown with vines and thorny bushes. There is no birdsong so deep in the woods, only silence and the weight of memories. In the dim light of a small and waxing moon, her unblemished white coat seems to darken and take on the shades of blue and green reflected off of the surrounding desolate scenery.

She has walked the same path many times, her hooves carrying her to her destination without conscious effort. Every once in a while, a wispy, long-extinguished ember glows somewhere in the ruins. She ignores them; they’re not really there and haven’t been for centuries. Nopony aside from her remembers the flames anymore.

The mare decides that’s alright. It’s not like she’ll forget them.

Since her last visit, an aged tree has fallen and destroyed the roof of yet another house. Some things were not made to last. The forest is reclaiming the town, striking it from the map just as she struck it from ponykind’s memory. Soon enough, only the towering castle will remain.

And that would also be alright. After all, it’s never been about the city, has it?

In other places and occasions, she’d be Celestia, the Princess of Equestria, the ruler of the most influential kingdom in the world. Maybe she could also be Celestia, the Dawnbringer, who makes the Sun rise every morning. But here, she was neither of those things. She was just an old mare taking a walk.

A Game of Chess

The griffon’s claw drew a line across the map. “I’m telling you, Princess, this is our final word. We won’t cede an inch of our ancestral hunting grounds.”

For the sixty-second time that day, Celestia stood up from her throne, which looked even more lifeless than usual in the enchanted sconces' still, gray light. The meeting dragged on long into the night, yet the princess walked across the floor of the Celestial Court with confident hoofsteps and marked a line perpendicular to the griffon’s. “Ambassador, there are ponies living there; they built towns without your knowledge. Griffonia cannot hold all that land, and I will arrange sufficient compensation for every mile you’ll lose.”

The ambassador glared at her. Were it not for the new moon outside, Celestia might’ve noticed a hint of a grin visiting his beak. “Absolutely not,” he repeated. “Although, how much gold are you talking about?”

Celestia’s expression remained neutral, though she knew she already had the griffon where she wanted him. “Noble ambassador—”

The stone door slid open, and Brightquill, the princess’s aide, trotted inside. She gave a polite nod to the foreign dignitary and addressed the princess, “Celestia, Princess Luna asks where you are. You were supposed to dine together.”

Celestia’s expression fell, but she steeled herself almost immediately. “Write a letter to my sister. Tell her that something important came up and I cannot join her tonight. I’ll sign it soon.” She waved Brightquill away and turned to the ambassador. “As I was saying…”

The Fire Sermon

I shine with the cruel finality and consume them all, one after another. My violent attention falls upon another stack of letters. Stack of unsightly lies spoken in a treacherous soft voice. They’re undone in an instant, their measured writing only sustaining my rage.

The rest of the room bows to my truth. The world will come later, and they will see! The carpet falls first, and it rolls from my heat, charred and forever changed. And brittle. So very brittle. Like all who had their lies exposed and burned out of them. I crackle with satisfaction.

A dark hoof crushes the carpet into ashes. I reach out to it, but it won’t let me burn it, for it also burns in its own way, like the blood moon hanging just outside the tower. We are together against the world. I see a thousand identical letters, all equally insincere. Enough! I burn.

I burn, and she’s still with me. I dry her tears, and in a voiceless whisper, I echo her thoughts. No firefighters came to stop me. Why would they? It’s night; everypony is asleep at this hour. I spread to the walls, my raging heat peeling off the paint from the stone.

She’s still with me, dancing in my flames with reckless abandon. It can’t be wrong to make things right. I say that, or I have that said to me. I can’t tell; I only burn. Brighter.

Death by Water

A flood of tears put out the flames. I’m sorry.