Princess Celestia, immortal alicorn, Equestria’s sole ruler, and raiser of the glorious and life-giving sun, had Princess Rules.

Princess Rules were different than laws, mind you. Laws had legality and precedent and applied, in theory, to all ponies equally across the land. But Princess Rules were different. There were no consequences for breaking them, officially. No judge, no jury, no executioner. But Princess Rules were there for her own sake. She established them in her mind because without the Princess Rules, she would merely be a pony wearing a tiara.

There was, for example Princess Rule #32 about Not Swearing. Ponies swore, of course. There was no law against it. However the Crown Princess of Equestria should be above vulgar language. There were lapses of course, but she prided herself on not having not broken #32 in three hundred years. The last time had been when she hit her hoof against a particularly hard table leg after a very long day. Thankfully, the historians were happy to have left out the time she shouted “MOTHERFUCKER!” loud enough to shake the castle’s rafters.

Because Princess Rule #1 said that if a Princess Rule must be broken, it needed to be broken for a good reason.

There was Princess Rule #515, which said that, if her court was in session, she simply couldn’t leave it whenever she liked. Wanting to go sample the kitchen’s latest baked goods was not a reason, no matter how much she wanted to.

But if your librarians stumbled across your little sister’s previously undiscovered journal detailing the location of yet another secret base, you could, however, drop everything and immediately rush off on a grand adventure. That was a good reason. It was the best reason.

Of course, only the court that she so justifiably neglected would see it as a grand adventure. For the Princess of the Sun, it was a trial. A tragedy in the making.

And another discovered reminder of how much she had failed Luna.

The sun blazed down across the desert plain, illuminating nothing but dunes and rock for miles and miles. Few things could survive in such an inhospitable place. Celestia was in her element though. The heat of the sun would never bother her, no matter how hard it blazed.

She supposed most ponies would complain about being stuck at the bottom of a dune having to excavate a ruin. Her companion certainly was.

“Permission to speak freely, ma’am?”

“Sergeant, I’ve been informed that such a concept is fictional. You can speak your mind.”

“Right. Um… why am I here again?”

She smiled. “I did require magical protection during this excursion, and Unicorns in the Royal Guard are often so rare. I suppose the Pegasi are better suited for pulling one’s chariot.”

Of course, that was a lie. Celestia didn’t bring a guard along to be a guard. She wanted a conversation partner. It was nice to have someone to talk at.

“No luck?”

“Apologies, Princess. You’re right that there’s some sort of… I suppose it’s a door. A door. But there’s too much sand everywhere. I can’t get it open.”

“Sand? That’s simple enough.” Celestia motioned him out of the way, looking over the dune that still covered the doorway. “I’m guessing four, maybe five tons? A displacement spell would be most suitable, one thinks. But with that much matter shunted away I’ll be worried about any subsequent air cavitation and shockwaves, so you’ll probably need to-”

“Ma’am?”

“I need you to stand back until I clear it. Sorry, I don’t get out much, you know.” She offered an embarrassed smile.

“We’re very proud of that fact, ma’am.” The guard replied, stepping behind her.

Celestia’s horn glowed, and with a puff of magic the sand simply ceased, air rushing in to fill the vacuum and slamming the door open. Moving several tons of the stuff should have had more of a climactic sound effect, but the vast energies of the cosmos didn’t want her to get the wrong idea about what she was uncovering here.

Another one of her sister’s secret spots. Another one of them violated by her presence. She’d be ashamed later, and if she found any clue to saving Luna, she wouldn’t be ashamed at all.

With the door finally clear, both ponies peered into what was beyond it. Intricate stonework gave way to a hallway of complete darkness. Most ponies would be deterred at what was seemingly a tomb, but Celestia moved onwards, hoof tracing what she could see.

“Hm, sheer carved stone, that mural’s faded but you can definitely see the visage of Gusty the Great, glass switches for magic. I would say that we have, my dear Sergeant, stumbled upon a lost Skyrosian waystation.”, she lectured. If she had to admit anything, it’s that she wasn’t much of a scholar naturally. But, when you lived for centuries, you sort of didn’t so much become a historian as much as you became history itself.

“Ma’am?”

“See this metalworking? Solid tonal architecturally fashioned arcane copper. You’d only start to see widespread use of this in Equestria during the Late Pony Age at best. Skyros was advanced, even by our standards, though I doubt the main road that this would be by has survived five thousand years of neglect. But that—”

Celestia looked down at the guard, who had a glazed-over expression that she recognized all too well.

“Not a fan of the past I take it, Sergeant?”

“No ma’am.”

“Failed history class, did you?”

“I’m in the Royal Guard for a reason, ma’am.”

“Right.”

Celestia pondered to herself.

“Before… well back when Skyros was still a kingdom, ponies from around the world would travel there. The journey could be perilous, of course. So they had these little waystations set up. Usually they’d be stocked with food, safe from weather, and have bathrooms.”

The guard paused. “Ma’am, are you saying that we’re entering a… a highway rest stop?”

She smiled, a look of nostalgia washing over her. “A wise pony said that history doesn’t repeat, but it certainly rhymes.”

Turning back towards the darkness, Celestia shook herself and trotted down the hallway.

“Keep up, there’s history to be discovered!”, she laughed back to the guard.

“Princess, wait! Allow me to check for traps.”

“Come on now, I just explained to you that it’s a rest stop.” Celestia said. “I doubt the ancient Skyrosians would booby trap a bathroo-”

There was a small click as Celestia looked down at what she had just stepped on, right before her guard tackled to the ground.

“Get DOWN your highness!”

Both were hit by a harmless burst of air, but felt nothing else. Celestia got to her hooves, as did the guard, who looked embarrassed.

“Apologies, ma’am, I suppose one should learn to trust your intuition but-”

Celestia held up a hoof, her attention on the pressure plate beneath her.

“No, Sergeant, you made the right call. This IS a trap. But not one set by our ancestors. This is… newer. I mean, it’s very old. But it’s not part of the original construction.”

She sniffed.

“If you trust my intuition, as you say, then this would be about a thousand years old. A mere fraction of this structure’s age, but that’s not what confuses me.”

“Not what? Princess, are you saying you know who set these traps?”

Celestia smiled. The runework on the plates was perfect, the leylines better aligned than she’d seen even on the most studious alumni of her school. And this entire station was in far better condition than it should be. Someone had been doing restoration work, a thousand years ago.

And she only knew one pony who loved history and learning enough that they would travel to the middle of a desert to spend stars-knew-who-long fixing up an old ruin.

How many hours did you while away here, little sister? She thought. Was this where you wanted to come to get away from it all? The thought of Luna, meticulous as ever, brushing away the dust and slowly placing each floor tile back into place made her heart swell with loneliness.

She had expected this to be another one of Luna’s hideaways, but…

But then she frowned. Why the traps? And why-

“That burst of air should have been an accurate recreation of Bananacus’ Instant Hurricane. Quite the fan of instantaneous spells, Bananacus. Bananacus’s Instant Skeleton, Bananacus’ Instant Trenchcoat, Bananacus Instant Orgas-”

“Ma’am.”

“Sorry,” Celestia smirked. “What I’m trying to say is that it is a hurricane. The wind force on that should have ripped our skin clean off. The spell’s lacking power.”

“Perhaps it fizzled out ma’am? It has been a thousand years.”

Celestia shook her head. “The mare who set this up would be kicking herself if one of her spells lasted less than an eon. And look at this.” She pointed up to the ceiling.

“There’s nothing there ma’am.”

“Exactly. There should be at least some magic lanterns lighting the way, and those especially shouldn’t have gone out.”

“Are you saying they’ve been… drained of magic.”

Celestia paused.

“No… not drained. Being drained. Present tense. Something is actively taking the magic out of these spells.”

Both looked at one another, the unicorn’s horn suddenly alight, magic at the ready. The princess nodded. Now that they knew what to look for, they could feel it. Something indeed was siphoning a LOT of magic towards the end of the corridor. Slowly, they inched towards the threshold. A soft, blue glow could be seen in the room beyond.

Deadly traps, active magic siphons. Please let this be your doing Luna. Please still have been in control when you set this up.

Please tell me there was still something left of you, near the end.

With her guard insisting on going first, they finally entered the main room to finally find…

“What in Celestia’s name…” Muttered the sergeant.

The princess was right. Yes, something was actively siphoning magic.

She had just underestimated how much of it there was.

Auroras danced across through the air, swirling around pillars and tall ceilings as symbols and stars could be seen among them. Lines of raw, heavy magic. Plucked from everything remotely arcane from miles around, concentrated, and then filtered unrefined towards the center of the room, towards…

“It… It can’t be. That’s not…” Celestia stepped forward.

“Ma’am! Your highness! Wait, we don’t know how-” The guard yelled, but Celestia wasn’t listening. She was running, flying towards the center of the siphon, unable to contain the hope that was swelling in her heart. One she hadn’t felt in centuries.

At the heart of all the magical chaos floated a small pod, of sorts. Engraved silver and glass were woven in between black cloth that seemed to pulse and glow, like an arcane heartbeat. In many ways, it was a heartbeat.

And within the pod, nestled inside a soft blue blanket was a unicorn foal, sleeping peacefully. Her coat was lavender, and her mane indigo, with streaks of pink. The only clue to her identity was the string of engraved letters hung gently across the pod.

Twilight Sparkle

Luna had left something behind after all.

“Holy shit,” whispered Celestia, tears falling from her eyes.

“She’s alive.”

If you were going to break a Princess Rule, you’d want to break it for a good reason.

Author's Note

This was written as a Christmas present for my wife, love you babe.

Thanks to the discord for the proofread.