Friendship is Forever: Redux

Chapter 2: The Visitor

She flapped her wings furiously, scraping the grass below with her flailing legs. As she crested the top of the vast ridge, there was a brief and exhilarating moment in which the ground disappeared and she felt and heard nothing but her heart and wings beating in synchronization. Despite her best efforts, she dove downwards, nose first, swarming stars flooding her vision as she tumbled roughly down a steep, dusty slope whose presence she hadn’t anticipated. As she struggled to slow down, she was vaguely aware of scrapes and bruises accumulating from the confused flurry of falling and rolling. Finally, she braced her hoof against a solid patch of ground and began skidding to halt, flopping onto her side just as she reached level ground.

She felt hot, angry welts throb on her sides, back, and legs, but as she jerked around on the ground, examining herself, she didn’t notice much blood.

“Are you alright?” called a voice from above. She craned her neck and looked up at the rough, jagged slope she’d just unceremoniously negotiated: from this distance, it seemed a stark, barren scar on the land, replete with rocks and dry root systems poking out at haphazard angles. Up at the top of the ridge stood a sapphire pony with disheveled cobalt hair.

“I’m fine, Luna.”

The younger alicorn shuffled sideways down the slope, halting every few seconds to catch her balance. A cloud of dust stirred up around her, forcing her to squint. “Why did you try to do a thing like that?”

Celestia pushed herself up onto her hooves, shaking off copious amounts of dust. “I thought there would be someplace to land.” She looked around. The slope had been part of a massive crater, barren save for scattered, dry shrubs.

“A shooting star!” said Luna. Celestia turned to her. “It’s one of those stars that fly through the sky. It must have landed here and made this hole.”

“Then where’s the star?”

Luna shrugged. Celestia looked towards the center of the crater and spotted something small and black poking out of the ground. She started to flap her wings, but thought better of it and walked over to the mysterious object, followed by Luna.

It was a thin, rectangular rod, its surface smooth and shiny, as though unable to abide even a single speck of the surrounding dust. It protruded less than a yard from the ground, but might have extended any distance underground. Celestia might have imagined it, but as she leaned down to examine it, it seemed to emit a chilling, sterile hum, like music made not only by something metallic, but for something metallic.

“We should leave,” said Luna. “Whatever that thing is, it isn’t good.”

“How can you tell?”

“It makes me feel sick.”

Celestia couldn’t say she disagreed, but she was intent on understanding this strange new visitor in her world. She sniffed it, but it smelled like nothing. She tapped it with her hoof, and the hum became louder and angrier, a shrill ring of something that did not want to be touched. Both ponies stepped back. They watched silently, breathlessly as the thing vibrated softer, becoming quiet once more.

“I’m going to try to see what’s under it.” Celestia tentatively reached out with her magic, brushing the thing gently. When there was no response, she grasped it and began pulling it upwards, all while taking measured steps backwards. The thing responded with a violent jerk, tugging downwards with terrifying strength. Celestia braced her hooves hard against the ground and tried with all her might to slide the thing up, but her efforts exhausted her and her forelegs collapsed as the black rod slid into the ground, leaving such a smooth covering of dirt that there was no sign it had existed.

The two ponies stared at the same spot on the ground for a long time. Finally, Luna turned around and began climbing out of the crater.

“How do you think it got there?” asked Celestia, trotting up alongside her sister.

Luna shook her head. “I don’t know, but I’m glad it’s gone now.”

“We should ask Mother about it. Maybe she’ll know.”

They passed through the vast, grassy hills they’d come from, into the dense, cool mists that gathered near the edge of the forest. Most of the year, brilliant sunlight filtered through the canopy, spreading scattered, bright freckles across the ferns. Now, however, the fog obscured everything but their immediate surroundings.

Luna let out a strange hissing sound. Confused, Celestia turned to see her exhaling slowly but loudly, her wide, crossed eyes intently focused on her frosting breath. “Why does it do that?” she asked.

“Because there’s fog.”

“Why is there fog?”

“Because it’s cold.”

“Why is it cold?”

“I don’t know. It just is.”

As it grew steadily darker, Celestia worried that they were getting off-course. The familiar landmarks were growing fewer and far between, and each new gulch, clearing and stream seemed like one she’d never seen before.

“Wait,” said Luna. She stood almost completely still, twitching her ears and darting her eyes about.

“What…”

“Shh.”

Celestia followed her lead, looking and listening. She shivered as she detected a faint ringing sound—the very same that the black rod had emitted. This time, however, it sounded father away, but louder, as though it were echoing from a great monolith on a hill somewhere.

She whipped her head around at the sound of a loud crunch coming from the brush. Luna ducked behind her with a sharp intake of breath. Out in the fog, there appeared the faintest outline of something the size and shape of an adult pony, looking straight at them.

Luna sprung back into the pony’s view and started walking forward. “Mother!” she called, moving her head about as she tried to pierce into the fog. Celestia held back, sensing that something was amiss. The pony began to step backwards, disappearing from view completely and prompting Luna to enter a full gallop until she, too, disappeared into the fog. Celestia prepared to chase after her echoing hoofsteps, but Luna quickly returned, looking confused and afraid.

“What happened?”

Luna shook her head. “It wasn’t Mother.”

“Then who was it?”

“I don’t know. Just a black pony with blue eyes. Whoever it was, he ran away when I got close.”

“How do you know it was a he?”

“His face was shaped different from Mother’s. He was a boy pony, just like there are boy animals.”

They looked at each other for several seconds, silently sharing their helpless apprehension.

“Maybe it was someone nice,” Celestia offered without believing herself. Luna shrugged and set off down the path at a faster clip than before.

Celestia cantered up alongside her. “Whoever it was probably ran away because he didn’t know if we were nice. Imagine thinking you were the only pony and seeing two little ones.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Maybe if we see him again, we can introduce ourselves. Then we can all go back to the castle, and Mother can stay with him so she won’t be alone when we go out.”

“That would be nice.” They stepped carefully across the slippery, round rocks of a recently-dried riverbed. The trees here were short and thin, so there was a little more light to see by.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

Luna glanced at Celestia. “That pony gave me a bad feeling. I felt sick, like when we were standing next to that black thing in ground.”

“You don’t know what that feeling means. Maybe you just don’t like black things.”

Luna said nothing. After another few minutes, they spotted a wide, yellow landscape through the trees and began galloping towards it, flattening ferns and snapping branches as they dashed out towards the pinkish, fading light on the horizon. Finally, the burst out through the tree-line, immediately disoriented as they strode away from the fog and into a sea of marigolds.

“We’re close to home,” urged Celestia, running towards the edge of the flowers, where she stepped onto a familiar dirt path. Together, the two sisters galloped down it, around a large, familiar butte and towards the sturdy stone castle rapidly coming into view. The parapets stood proudly as ever, the flags fluttered softly in the wind, and what remained of the sunlight struck the roof at a dazzling angle. It was all a testament to the only living things who knew how to transform stone, wood and metal into works of wonder, to dredge memories and meaning up from the earth.
Celestia slowed down to catch her breath as she crossed the drawbridge across the moat, while Luna bounded on ahead, through the archway.

As Celestia caught up, her entire being immediately flooded with the kind of buzzing warmth and comfort that could only be found in the place she called home.

“Mother!” Luna’s voice echoed down the spacious hallway, bouncing off the mighty granite pillars. “We’re home! Where are you?”

Celestia made for the door on the far-left side. “She’s probably out looking for us. Unless you want to get lost, just stay here until she gets back.”

Luna pouted. “What if she doesn’t want to come back until she finds us?”

“She knows we can get back by ourselves. Even if it had gotten dark, we would still have been fine. I know how to make light, remember?” Celestia tilted her head down and lit her horn for a few seconds.

Luna didn’t seem placated, but she followed Celestia down the side hallway to their room. Against the left wall was a wide shelf stacked with statuettes: a golden rabbit, a brass snake, a silver apple, a ruby fish, and countless others that Celestia couldn’t yet name.
As Celestia lay on her bed with her head up, Luna went immediately to the silver-paned window above her own bed, planting her hooves on the sill and watching the last few minutes of the sunset.
“We should build a castle someday, Tia,” she murmured in a far-off voice.
“I don’t see why not.”
“And we should connect it to this one through an underground tunnel.”
“If you want to build something really big, it’ll take a long time.”
“We’ll just build a little every day for a hundred years.”
Celestia found that an odd idea to wrap her head around—she wasn’t even a hundred years old yet. What would it be like to exist for that long? For that matter, what about the next hundred years after that? She’d have to learn to count to higher numbers before she could know how old she and Luna would become.
Suddenly, Luna stiffened. She turned to Celestia with wide eyes and whispered “There’s somepony outside."
Celestia rushed to the window. A horned shadow drifted across the grass below the moonlight, stretched and distorted from a source too far away to identify. “It’s the same pony from before,” said Luna, her voice shaking. Her eyes started to water. “He’s here to hurt us. I know it.”
“Don’t say that.”
“He followed us home. It’s not fair.”
The shadow melted into the darkness of the path. Celestia squinted and saw the pony approach the drawbridge.
“We have to keep him out,” said Luna. The two of them dashed for the door and out into the main hall. Celestia slowed briefly, and then swallowed her hesitation as she charged towards the doors. As the two ponies were halfway down the hall, the doors swung open without warning, stopping them in their tracks.
“Celestia! Luna! There you are!”
“Mother!” Luna resumed dashing forward, this time beaming widely. Celestia advanced at a slower clip, still in shock from the moment’s intensity. Their mother tucked away her wings and embraced Luna.
“I was so worried. I thought you were both still in the forest.”
Luna’s eyes widened at the mention of the forest. “There was a pony in the forest. I don’t know who it was, but he ran away when I walked up to him.”
Her mother stood up straight, tensing immediately. “A pony? What did he look like?”
“He was black, with blue eyes.”
“Are you positive about this?”
Luna hesitated. “It was foggy and he stayed far away, but I think that’s what he looked like.”
Celestia began to feel disoriented by the gathering darkness, so she lit her horn as she stepped forward, alongside Luna. “There was something else, too—a strange black stick in the ground. It sunk down when we tried to touch it.”
Her mother’s expression unnerved her—it looked like fear, but since when was she afraid of anything?
“Mother,” said Luna, “do you know a pony who looks like that?”
She tightened her lips and shook her head. “I wish I understood, but I don’t.”
Luna’s jaw dropped. “But you know everything!”
“Not everything, Luna. This pony must have come from somewhere very far away. I wish I knew how and why he came here.”
“He made me feel sick!” Luna said, her voice suddenly escalating in pitch and volume. “When I got close, I felt this bad feeling in my stomach, like I was going to get hurt. I don’t think he’s here to do anything nice.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” said Celestia. “Maybe he seemed scary because we don’t know anything about him.”
Their mother shook her head. “I think Luna may be right. For now, I want you both to stay close to the castle no matter what. I’ll find out what our new visitor wants”—she paused and swallowed, her voice growing slightly shaky—“and if he’s friendly, only then may you speak to him. Do you understand?” They both nodded.
…

That night, as they settled down to sleep, Celestia found her eyes wandering towards the window. The moonlight illuminated wide swaths of grass, but the trees cast long, impenetrable shadows in which ambiguous hints of motion seemed to flicker. Just as she fell asleep, Celestia thought she saw a pair of fierce blue eyes against the inside of her eyelids.