What We Become

“Any word from the Badlands yet?” The man paced anxiously around the room. His hands folded over his chest.

“We have received a message from the hive...but I don't think it's something you want to hear,” Discord said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Go on,”

“Well, there's a slight problem. Chrysalis has “opted out” of our operation. She does not consider her payment to be sufficient,” Discord tensed himself in preparation for taking on the full brunt of the human's bulding rage.

“What?!? We gave her everything she has now. Without us her 'Hive' would be nothing but a hole in the ground. A filthy fucking ruined hole! And this is how she repays us? I thought we went over this with that greedy bitch. All deals are final! We had a contract for fucks sake!” hollered the man, slamming his hand on the windowsill. He was furious. The changelings were an essential part of his operations. Without them his entire scheme would come to a standstill. For him, this was not an option. He would not lose his key to redemption. He would not lose his power. It had happened once before. Never again.

“Well I'm sure we can go on without her. I mean come on it can't be that big of a deal. After all you always have been the man with the plan. You can just make up another o-” Discord was cut off by the human lunging towards him and pulling him in close by the neck. Their faces were almost touching. Discord was sweating profusely. He could feel the man breathing down his neck.

“You don't understand. Not only do we need her. But what she did to us is insubordination! Disloyalty! Do you want to know what happens when you just let things like that go?” the man growled. He pushed Discord away and lifted his pant leg to reveal a prosthetic leg from the knee down and pulled down his hood to reveal his scar dotted face. “This is what happens. You see...when you don't react to things like this, people will start to think your weak. They'll doubt you. They might not obey you. They'll think you're a pushover and they might even try to take everything  from you. That's something we can't risk.” The man muttered something unintelligible to himself and stomped off towards the storeroom door. Swinging it open so hard that the knob left a prominent dent in the plaster wall. He began stuffing tools of all sorts into a duffel bag sitting on a desk. Saws, scapels, syringes, hammers and knives of all sizes.

“And what do you intend to accomplish with those?” Discord asked, poking his head into the room. The man stuffed the last of his tools into the bag and zipped it shut. He pushed past Discord, the bag in hand and headed towards the exit in a rush. Like a buisnessman who was late for an appointment.

“I intend to pay  our little queen a visit. We're not done with her yet,” the man growled kicking the exit door open. Discord's heart sank to his stomach when he inferred the human's planned actions. He rushed after him in an attempt to stop him from going too far.

“Now we really don't need to do that, do we? I'm sure she'll come around eventually. Just give her time,” he suggested. What the human was planning to do was complete depravity. Discord may have been a corrupted soul, but even he had his limits.

“Time is something we don't have,” the human hissed, whipping around to face Discord, “We need her and if she won't help us willingly then we're just going to have to 'convince' her,” he continued, motioning to the duffel bag. Discord shook his head. He did not agree with the methods the man was employin, “I'll have you know you're still walking on thin ice Discord. My patience is wearing thin with you and your doubts. I need to know now that you are completely with me. If you are not, then you are against me...and you do not want to be against me!” Discord paused momentarily to consider his options. He would have to agree with the man's methods. It was either that, or face certain death at the hands of his companion. He feared what the man might do to him should he disobey his order.

“...You're right,” he said regretfully, “Go...do what you have to,” he stood and watched the human fell  at ease, knowing that he had, once again, ensured his companions loyalty.

“Good. That's what I thought,” Discord refused to meet his gaze. “Well, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with our dear Chrysalis,” his tone softened and a smug grin crept across his face. “I wouldn't want to keep her waiting...And Barbara is just dying to meet her,” he motioned to his cherished old collector's baseball bat, wrapped in strips of bloody barbed wire. The man tipped his hood to Discord, turned and casually took off towards the installation's exit. Discord watched him leave. Slowly burying his head in his hands in shame. He knew what horrible suffering he had condemned Chrysalis to. Part of him was disgusted by the new moral low that he had sunk to.

No I cannot condemn my actions. These deeds are necessary. Just like he said. We don't have a choice. We have to do them or we lose everything, he told himself. Only some voice from the back of his mind kept calling out to him.

“There's always a choice,” it said, time after time.

* * *

“I can't believe you invited that...brute...to dine with us today!”

“Cadence please! Have some respect. He saved my life and I am in his debt for that. It is the least we could do. Now please...stop complaining,” whispered Shining Armour, hushing his significant other.

“Complaining? You are letting a wilder beast into a formal luncheon with the royal family! Have you gone mad?” demanded Cadence. She could not say that she was a fan of Shining Armour's decision. She shuddered at the thought of what the creature might do, should things go south.

“For the last time, he is not a creature. Do not refer to him in such a demeaning way.”

“Well then what is he?” Shining Armour opened his mouth to answer, only to find that he himself did not know what to call his otherworldly saviour. He frowned and glared at Cadence, who was smily smugly at him. Revelling in her small victory.

“Cadence, just treat him with respect. That's all I'm asking,” pleaded Shining Armour. Cadence pouted and crossed her hooves. Her eyes suddenly became very wide and she took on a concerned expression. She was gawking at something directly ahead of her. Shining Armour turned to face what was bothering her so. There, at the doorway to the banquet hall, stood a slender, bipedal, pale figure slowly shuffling into the room. “Look, there he is now. Now quit your whining,” he whispered with certain authority. Cadence opened her mouth as if to say something, but quickly silenced herself and resumed her childish pouting. Taking care to look away from Shining Armour in over exaggerated contempt. He could already tell that he would pay for his behaviour later. Looks like I'm sleeping on the couch for the next little while.

Gaige stood at the entrance the the banquet hall, eying his surroundings carefully. Almost as if he was searching for a threat that was not there. The room fell silent and all eyes fell on Gaige. They stared at him until he became uncomfortable and slowly backed away. The fact that everyone's full attention was now directed at him was unnerving. He had never been one for being in the limelight. He could feel his cheeks beginning to burn crimson. He had a feeling that, contrary to his formal invitation, he was not very welcome here. He could hear them muttering to each other.

“What is that thing doing here?”

“First this, next time we find ourselves dining in the company of a manticore!”

“What a disgusting sight. Do those creature not know what 'personal hygiene' is?” Gaige could hear one voice over all the others, beckoning him over.

“Ah, Gaige you're here. Come. Sit,” called a voice at the end of the table. The voice belonged to a white stallion with a dark blue mane. He was motioning to a chair next to him. Patting the seat with his hoof invitingly. Gaige obliged him and slowly meandered over to the empty seat. As he neared the table, the ponies looked away from him and did their best to return to their own business. Occasionally glancing nervously at him, as if he would pounce on them at any moment. As he sat himself down the white stallion gave a brief introduction. “Now you all might be wondering who our guest of honour tonight is,” the stallion said, projecting his voice throughout the banquet hall. All eyes turned to him. “This is Gaige. If you have not noticed, he is not a pony such as we. He's a....a,” the stallion's voice dropped to a whisper as he discreetly leaned over close to Gaige and asked, “This is really embarrassing...but what exactly are you?”

“Human...just say I'm a human,” Gaige whispered back, smiling nervously at his pony audience in an attempt to put the crowd at ease.

“He's a human,” the stallion said assuringly, “and he saved my life,” Gaige instantly recognized the stallion as the one he had saved in the abandoned house a few days back, “He is a hero and I think that he is deserving of a warm Canterlot welcome. I propose a toast. To Gaige!” he bellowed.

“To Gaige,” the other ponies nervously repeated. Gaige did not say anything, he simply lifted his unusually small wineglass. Gripping it awkwardly in his bony hands. It was barely larger than his palm and held a miniscule amount of wine. Gaige looked around, all the other ponies had taken a tentative sip out of their small wineglasses and sat holding them in their hooves.

How the hell are the doing that? Gaige looked around for hidden fingers, a magnet, superglue or anything the ponies could be using to grip the glasses, but he found none. The glasses seemed to just be magically sticking to their hooves due to some unseen force. You know what...I'm in a world where talking horses, unicorns, pegasi and magic exist. I really should just stop questioning any anomalies in this world. Gaige pushed all questions and uncertainties into the back of his mind and focused on enjoying the moment. Everyone else had taken a sip of their rich looking wine. He figured he was obliged to do the same. As he turned back to his glass he could hear the white stallion say.

“Go ahead, drink it,” he lightly pushed the glass towards Gaige's mouth with his hoof, “It's good,” Gaige slowly brought the glass to his lips and did his best to slightly tip the glass into his mouth. Due to his shaky hand movements that 'sip' ended up emptying the entire glass into his mouth. His throat immediately began to burn intensely and he scowled at the surprising bitterness of what he thought was “wine”. He let out a stifled cough and his eyes began to water. “Are you alright?” inquired the white stallion, concerned by Gaige's poor reaction to the drink.

“Yeah...Yeah I'm fine,” Gaige sputtered, “Goddamn that is strong,” Gaige stifled another cough. His throat was on fire and the concoction left a bittersweet aftertaste in his mouth. He could almost feel the sweet alcoholic nectar coursing through his bloodstream and probably wreaking havoc on his liver. It was glorious. He had never drank anything so satisfying in years. Save for the occasional bottle of dirty, ash laden, home brewed whiskey. “Whatever that was...give me another one!” Gaige's positive remark set the crowd a bit more at ease. The silence was broken and conversation re-started around the table. Gaige was beginning to feel marginally more accepted by the ponies. There were still worried  glances shot at him every once in a while, but generally the ponies were beginning to warm up to him now that they knew he had no desire to consume them, only a desire to consume all the alcohol in the room.

In between guzzling copious amounts of whatever alcohol laden concoction lay in front of him, Gaige could vaguely remember learning the names of the white stallion and his not so enthusiastic wife. Shining Armour and Cadence. Gaige did not pay them much mind and responded to each of their remarks with a simple “Hmm,” or a nod. He had much more important things to focus on. There was a big, radiant bottle of a god sent nectar for him to consume. And he intended to savour every last drop.

Gaige's vision was beginning to blur as he finished off the bottle. He got some concerned looks from the guests as he swayed back an forth in his chair, merrily humming old world jingles to himself. When he looked down at his plate he realized that some saint had deposited a small mountain of exquisite looking pastries and what looked to be a green sludge with various foreign objects mixed int onto his plate. He could feel himself drooling as he froze, awe struck at the luxuries that he was being provided with. He felt the eyes of the guests burning holes in his skull once again but he was far past the point of caring. He almost immediately dove into the mountain of pastries. Stuffing the small gourmet cakes into his mouth until he could fit no more. He chewed them with much difficulty, as bits and pieces of the pastries tumbled out of his mouth and onto the floor. There were many hushed discussions of his crude mannerisms, but their words fell on deaf ears.

After Gaige had gulped down the last of the pastries, he reached for another bottle of liquor on the table to wash it all down. As he grasped the bottle and began to greedily bring it into his chest, a pink hoof wearing an exquisite golden slipper grasped the bottle as well. Pulling it away from him and back towards its' rightful place on the table. It belonged to Cadence. “Now I think you've had quite enough of that. We have to leave some for the other guests,” she reminded him, “Now let's just put it back and-”

“What are you my mother?” Gaige protested, slurring his words. Now under any other circumstances, Gaige would have respected the lady's orders and relinquished the bottle. In fact, he would not have drunk as much as he had to begin with. Unfortunately, consuming copious amounts of liquor has not been known to aid one's judgement very much. Such is the case of Gaige.

“Excuse me?” exclaimed Cadence, offended by his disrespectful remark. Gaige took this opportunity to yank the bottle away from her and cradle it protectively in his arms.

“Why've you gotta be such a bitch about it? Can't a guy drink to forget once in a while?” he asked, taking a large swig of the drink and swaying in his chair. Cadence attempted to grab the bottle once again, but Gaige thwarted her, swatting her hoof away and pulling the bottle in close to his chest. Gaige sneered at her, revelling in his success. His actions elicited a few surprised gasps from the crowd as silence overtook the room once again.

“Oh you brute!” she yelled, “I have the right mind to-,” Cadence cut herself off and let out an exhasperated cry.

“Give me a fuckin' break woman!” slurred Gaige, “My family'sh dead. I've been living in a washteland for the past five yearsh. And I haven't seen a drop of good fuckin' booze for as long ash I can remember,” at the mention of these events, the crowd let out even more astounded gasps. Cadence felt no sympathy at the mention of this. She figured he was using a made up story to gain leverage on her and make her seem like she was in the wrong. She glared at him fiercely. As if to will him to drop the liquor. “You know what?” he continued, “If you don't fuckin' like me then I guessh I'll go back to my room and drink up! I don't need you assholes,” he mumbled with much difficulty. His mouth worked imperfectly as he spoke and he devolved into muttering and rambling to himself as no one could understand his speech past that point. It almost sounded as if he were speaking some strange alien dialect, in which belches and slurred gibberish consisted of most of the words.

Gaige took another swig of liquor and promptly got up from his chair and went on his way to drink alone. He swayed and stumbled from side to side as he hummed a disjointed rendition of “Bohemian Rhapsody”. He took a few more steps forward before tumbling face first onto the hard tile floor. He lay there moaning for a moment before flopping lazily onto his back and slurring, “Could...could shomebody help me up...I...I'm a bit tipshy.”

* * *

“Well that's the last of that damned cider,” Dawson tossed the empty bottle at a tree, shattering it completely. He was overjoyed that they finally had a reason to seek out other fluids to drink that was not that cursed beverage brewed in the seventh circle of hell. He smirked cheekily as he watched the glass bottle shatter. Good riddance, he thought.

“Hey! Quite complaining about it. We were lucky enough to have those ponies let us walk. I don't want you fucking it up by insulting them in any way,” Patrick hissed. They were on a dirt path in the middle of nowhere, far away from the pony settlement, but Patrick was not going to take any chances. It was a blessing unto itself that they had not been killed on site, he did not want that to change now.

“Oh come on! It's not like there's any of those freaks around to hear it,” whined Dawson.

“Loose lips sink ships, asshole,” muttered Patrick. The duo continued to trudge on down the dirt path. They were no longer surrounded by sand and desolation, but by thick woods and looming ancient pine trees. Civilization had been scarce in these parts. They passed the occasional empty, dilapidated  cottage every once in a while, but it seemed as though no one had lived anywhere near them for years.

“Ow! Shit!,” yelped Dawson as he clutched his foot in pain. He hopped around on one foot like an oversized demented rabbit as he cursed and swore at whatever sharp object that he stepped on. Afterwards he sat down on the ground and pulled a sharp sliver of glass out of the bottom of his boot. He slowly and painfully pulled his boot off. The shard had cut deep.

“It stuck you pretty good didn't it?” Patrick tossed Dawson their dwindling roll of bandages. Dawson quickly went to work dressing his foot. First disinfecting it. Then bandaging it. And laying down and wallowing in his overdramatized “agony”. Patrick scoffed at him. “We can't stay here. It's too dangerous to be in the middle of the wild at night. The sun's already setting. Suck it up and let's get going.”

“Easy for you to say,” Dawson grunted as he laboriously brought himself to his feet, “You didn't have two inches of glass stuck into you foot.”

“Quit your bitching. We have ground to make,” Patrick grunted. He realized that they were now as good as lost in the forest and that did not put him in the best of moods. They were about to set out again, when Patrick noticed something strange about the bloody shard of glass Dawson had left on the path. It had a serial number and the letters “GENTEK” etched into it. Patrick stopped dead. “Dawson,”

“What?”

“Where was the last known location of Gaige's helmet?”

“The last signal it gave out was about twenty metres above...,” Dawson paused and his eyes shifted back and forth between the ground in front of him and his radar, “Oh my god...It's here. He's here!” He scampered over to where he had stepped on the glass shard and began looking through the tall grass around the area. After a short while of searching he froze once again. His face was hidden by his helmet, but Patrick could sense dismay radiating of him. “Patrick...I...He didn't make it,” Patrick's heart sank to his stomach. He couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it.

“Show me,” was all he could manage to say. Dawson looked at him and then slowly brought a half smashed hazardous environment helmet and bits of Gaige's leather duster up from the tall grass. Both were encrusted with old, coagulated blood and they had been blackened by some sort of extreme heat.“Oh christ...,” Gaige had been his friend since childhood. His brother in arms. One of the only people he could trust in a hostile world. And the man who saved him from himself. And now he was gone. Just like that.

He did not cry. It wasn't because he did not want to. It was because he had no tears left to shed. When his father had died he had cried for hours and stood vigil over him for an entire day. This time, the feeling was different. He just felt empty. His best friend was dead and he didn't shed a single tear. And that scared him. Am I too far gone? Patrick slowly collected himself and softly said, “We should bury him.”

“No body.”

“What  do you mean 'No body'?”

“That's it...There's nothing else. Animals must have gotten the rest,” He looked over the bloody bits and pieces of Gaige's attire, “He didn't deserve that,” his voice was beginning to quiver, “No one deserves that,” the two stood in silence once again. Paying their respective silent respects to their fallen comrade. Or rather, what they thought was left of him.

Dawson stared ponderously at the shattered helmet, “Must have taken one hell of a drop to smash this thing. Where could he have...,” Dawson looked up and went slack jawed. There, above him, was a massive city built high into the side of a mountain.It looked as regal as a palace of a Sultan of the old Middle-East. He could make out a bustling hub of pegasus drawn carriages flowing in and out of the city. “Oh my god...Patrick you aren't gonna believe this,” Dawson let Gaige's helmet fall back into the tall grass as he stared, awe struck, at the bustling utopia above him.

“...Fucking hell...,” the duo continued to stare up at the marvellous city, taken aback by the sheer scale and beauty of it. They had never seen anything like it, even in the old world. Patrick eventually snapped out of his stupor and realized the potential dangers that could arise, being as close as they were to the city. He took Dawson by the arm and dragged him off the road and into the forest. “We have to go. This place isn't safe anymore,” Dawson nodded in acknowledgement and the two trekked further into the woods. The woodland terrain was hell on Dawson's bandaged foot. He hobbled over roots and through thick brush with much difficulty. They did not make it too far before he had to sit down and rest.

“We're not getting out of here by nightfall, are we?” he worriedly asked. Already knowing the answer.

“No. Not on that foot of yours. We're going to have to camp here. Maybe we can find a tree to sleep in,” Patrick looked around for a suitable tree to set a hammock up in. As he scanned the area he noticed a rather tall, burly, black man approaching them through the underbrush. He had short hair and a long bushy beard. He wore a brown duster, with all sorts of pockets and compartments to conceal weapons. The man's eyes had a certain unnerving brightness to them. Patrick levelled his assault rifle at him and the man slowly raised his hands into the air.

“Don't worry. I'm not here to hurt you,” said the man with a warm smile.

“That's what they all say,” spat Patrick, “Where's the rest of your group?”

“They're not far from here. We have a wounded man. You have bandages. It'd be worth your while brother,” the man slowly continued to approach Patrick, his arms raised above his head. By this time Dawson had fumbled around and drawn his hunting rifle. He propped himself up on his rucksack and steadied the gun, making sure the crosshairs of his scope were trained on the man's head.

“Don't call me that,” Patrick growled and he backed up a few paces, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Who's anybody anymore?” the man rhetorically asked, chuckling softly at his own remark.

“Cut the shit.”

“Alright, alright. Name's Eli. I'm from a small group. They're good people,” Patrick still was not convinced, “We've got a kid.”

“Is that what you tell people so that they don't hurt you?”

“No. I've got two guns pointed to my head. I'm not really in a position to lie to you,” Patrick considered the man to be sufficiently sincere and dropped his guard just slightly. He still was not too sure of Eli's true motives.

“And if we help you...What do you do for us?”

“I'll tell you where the world went.”

“What?”

“Nothin'...Never mind. If you help us we have some extra food we could give you. Like I said, it'll be worth your while,” Patrick paused to consider the offer. He looked at Dawson, expecting some sort of counsel from him. Only Dawson had his eye glued to his scope and had no intention of moving a muscle.

Something in Eli's sleeve caught Patrick's eye. It was glimmering in the sunlight. It had a metallic sheen to it. He instantly recognized what it was. “And your not gonna stick us with that hidden knife you've got there?” Patrick spat sarcastically. Eli gave him a confused look in return. “Don't play dumb with me. Drop it,” he hissed, motioning to Eli's raised arms with his gun.

“Oh that thing? That's for emergencies only.”

“Yeah, my ass it is. Toss the knife over here,” Eli did not oblige him. He slightly lowered his left arm, letting the blade tease its' way out into his palm subtly.

“Now I don't think that'll be necessary. Do you?” Patrick did not respond. Eli could now feel the tip of the blade resting on his palm. He began to crouch down lower, preparing to launch himself into action at a moment's notice. If the two men were not going to help his group. They were a danger to it. And his job was to eliminate threats to the group,“Let's all just calm down here and-”

“Toss us the fucking knife...or I swear to god I will end your miserable fucking life right now!”

Just then a soft rustling could be heard in the bushes behind them. Patrick swiftly turned to face the disturbance, expecting an ambush and came face to face with a small child. He looked familiar. “Carson?” the little boy was very afraid at first. Timidly backpedalling into the underbrush he had come out of. He looked terrified.

“Christ! Carson I told you not to follow me!” Eli took a step towards Patrick before Dawson shakily stood up and discouraged him by yelling.

“Another step and I blow your brains out!” His rifle slowly swayed from side to side as he attempted to hold it steady.

“Holy shit...Carson is that you?” Patrick threw off his helmet so that the boy would see his face and hopefully recognize him, “It's me...Patrick,” he said softly. Carson's fearful expression almost instantaneously turned into one of pure joy.

“Patrick!” the boy yelled as he ran up to him. Excited to ask him all kinds of questions. He looked around and noticed that only Dawson was with him. “Where's Gaige?” he innocently asked. Patrick grew worried. He was not sure how to respond to the child.

“He...uh...He,” stammered Patrick nervously, Should I tell him the truth? He turned to Dawson as if to get an answer. Dawson only shook his head. Patrick acknowledged his gesture and turned back to Carson. “He went out for a while. He'll be back later.”

“Ok! I can wait,” chimed Carson.

“I take it you two know each other,” said Eli. Lowering his hands from over his head and becoming more at ease.

“Yeah. We used to be in a group together. How'd you find the kid?” asked Patrick turning back to face an ecstatic Carson.

“Found him on the road alone a few days ago. Decided to take him in. He's one helluva kid. He's been a big help to our group,” replied Eli.

“Yeah! Eli and his people are really nice. I like them a lot,” Carson glanced at Dawson and Patrick's drawn guns, “You aren't going to kill Eli are you?”

“No...We're not gonna kill him. Don't worry,” Patrick patted Carson on his head and slung his rifle over his shoulder.

“...About that help you're givin' us,” Eli gestured to Dawson's first aid kit.

“Yeah. We'll help you. Lead the way,” For the first time that day Patrick was actually smiling.

“Great! If we get going now, we'll be back before sundown,” Eli pivoted around and began casually strolling towards his camp. Dawson, Patrick and Carson followed suit. Carson was going on and on about the adventures he had had with Eli and all the people he had met. Dawson had removed his helmet and bore and expression that said “How did Gaige ever put up with this?”.  Patrick listened attentively to the child and was even laughing at some of his stories. It had been a good day for once. And for the first time in a long time, a sliver of Carson's childish optimism was infecting Patrick. Maybe things don't have to be so grim anymore, he thought to himself, Maybe this can be a new beginning.

* * *

“Sister, I swear on our mother that I have seen goodness in him. This evening was but a small mistake on his part! We need him. Ponyville is unprotected. We have no more guards to spare...We could use him to protect it from this new menace we are dealing with. Just as he suggested. I could even watch over him. To ensure he stays in line.”

“That is what you said so that I would allow him to go to the royal dinner and now he has gone and made an ass of himself in front of the entire Canterlot aristocracy! We cannot tolerate this sort of behaviour. I trusted your word on Gaige's 'goodness' before and look what happened!” Celestia yelled. She was fed up with Luna's childish pouting and sympathy for the vile creature that she should not have even taken in in the first place. She had the right mind to go along with her military advisors plan of exterminating any of these “humans” on site, as to prevent further disturbances.

“Sister please!” begged Luna, grovelling at Celestia's hooves. Celestia was becoming increasingly fed up with her sister's childish antics. Her entire empire was threatened and she did not have the time to babysit her grossly immature sibling. The stress of the past few weeks was wearing her patience thin. Celestia ground her teeth in her closed mouth as the her bitter frustrations boiled over in her mind. She could not stop thinking about Discord's escape and his organized insurrection, the death threats, the humans and the sudden political tensions she had faced in recent times. And now her own sister was becoming a problem. As she grew angrier, the temptation to take her frustration out on her sister grew increasingly enticing. She could feel herself breathing heavily and she could no longer hear what Luna was saying, she only saw her mouth moving. In fact, she couldn't hear anything, save for a terrible ringing in her ears and her own, rapidly accelerating, heartbeat. Her mind was screaming at her to let it all go. Finally, the pressure was too much, and she lashed out.

“Luna this creature is not your pet. You are not a filly anymore. Do not continue acting like one!” she swatted Luna away from her hooves. She shot upright, rubbing her cheek where Celestia had struck her. Celestia had left a bright red mark on her face and it was already starting to swell. Luna was in shock. Never had her sister struck her. Not even if Luna had been on her worst of worst behaviours. She could not fathom why she would go so far as to strike her now, “Our entire empire could crumble around us at a moment's noticed and still you sit here with your foolish desires. This creature is what could be our doom. Discord is organizing their kind into and army to vanquish us. This “Gaige” is not our friend! He is our enemy! And still you defend this scum and condone his actions! Have you gone mad?” Celestia was towering over Luna imposingly. Wild eyed and red with rage. For the first time in her life, Luna was legitimately terrified of her sister.

“But sister...I-I swear. I can still prove to you that Gaige is pure of heart. I have walked his dreams. I know he-”

“Don't give me your pitiful excuses! I have had more than enough of those Luna,” roared Celestia, “Every time one of your little stunts fails it's always 'but sister' this and 'but sister' that and I'm sick of hearing it! Just admit it, you are worthless! You cannot do anything right! Whenever I have called upon you to perform the simplest of tasks you fail miserably! I cannot believe I trusted you with gauging a dangerous creature's character! Even now I had simply asked for you to be co-operative but that was too much to ask of you wasn't it?” Luna had tears welling up in her eyes. Each of her sister's harsh words stung her with the force of a thousand needles. “Do you want to know why I wouldn't let you go save the Crystal empire with Twilight Sparkle? Hmm?” asked Celestia, putting her face right up to her sisters and forcing her to shrink down even more. Luna didn't respond, she could only look into her sisters spiteful eyes in shock, her mouth agape. “It was because I knew if I did, the Crystal empire would have been lost and my most faithful student probably killed by some idiotic stunt of yours. And something as severe as that, maybe even worse to that will happen if I agree with you now.” hissed Celestia.

A great rage was now beginning to well up inside of Luna as well. Replacing her previous feelings of sadness and betrayal. She scowled at her sister and forcefully pushed her away. Celestia looked shocked by this act of defiance and was further enraged by it. Both of them stood angrily glaring at each other for a long time. “Like you're such a perfect princess...At least I would have tried to do something useful for once,” growled Luna.

“Useful? Ha! You are one to talk about being useful,” retorted Celestia.

“Why is that?”

“I have essentially been ruling this entire planet single handedly for a millennium. I have taken on raising both the sun and the moon for a millennium. I have been the force that holds this planet together. And I could be everywhere I am now without you,” she spat the word scornfully, “You call yourself the 'Princess of the Night'? You can barely raise the moon and the stars at dusk. You're useless! I should have sent you back to the moon while I still had the chance...It's where you belong.”

Luna had returned to a state of pure shock and dismay. Normally she would have tried to respond rationally to the best of her abilities. But the banishment to the moon was very much a soft spot for her and Celestia had done the equivalent of driving a knife deep into it and twisting the hilt.

“H-how...could you,” she sputtered, trembling with resentment for her sibling. Tears flowing down her muzzle.

“What? It's not like anyone would miss you. Everypony would be better off without a failure like you,” shouted Celestia loud enough for the entire palace to hear.

“ HOW COULD YOU?!?” Luna launched herself forward and tackled her sister. She landed on right top of her. Celestia lay on her back in a daze. She had hit her head on the palace floor and everything seemed to be blurry and out of focus. Luna forehooves quickly became a blur and seemed to be moving rather quickly. Celestia was coming under a flurry of hoof strikes, mostly on her face. Celestia quickly regained awareness and sharply kicked her sister in the stomach. Prying her off and winding her. Luna let out a winded groan of pain and hit the hard palace floor on her side.

Celestia scrabbled to her feet and turned to face Luna just in time to see her discharge a cobalt ball of energy towards her. She ducked down to avoid it. Celestia could feel it connect with her flank. A sharp pain shot through her body. She winced and her eyes shot over and met Luna's now terrified gaze. “You,” she spat, panting heavily and gritting her teeth in pain, “You'll pay.”

Celestia then went about casting her own spell in retaliation. A fireball spell. One of her extremely limited non-passive spells. She charged it, aimed for Luna's midsection and cast it. The fiery yellow orb flew straight and true. Sailing towards a petrified Luna at lightning speed. It hit the navy alicorn square on her shoulder, singing her and sending her toppling over onto the floor. Luna wailed in pain as her shoulder burned with a searing pain. It was singed, but not horribly singed. Celestia had held back on her.

Before she knew it, Luna was suddenly suspended upside down in mid-air. She was surrounded by her sister's yellow aura. She could see an Celestia slowly approaching her. She attempted to focus. To escape from the levitation spell. That only got her dropped, head first, onto the hard tile floor. She cried out in pain and fell to the floor in a heap with a great “thud”. She could hear hoofsteps approaching her. She started to bawl uncontrollably. Celestia leaned in close and Luna could feel her hot breath on the back of her neck. “Sympathizing with the enemy,” she spat, “Defying my word,” Celestia's words dripped with a terrible hatred, “And even assaulting me?” she paused for a long time, before whispering, “I have no sister.”

Two royal guards, battle ready and armed with spears, burst into the room. “Your highness! We heard a terrible ruckus and came running at once!” the duo looked around the room momentarily, still on high alert, “Where has the assailant made off to? We shall follow him in hot pursuit your highness. We shall capture whoever committed this-”

“That will not be necessary guardsman,” Celestia smiled quaintly at them, betraying her current emotional state, “My dear sister had just gotten a little...out of hand...that is all,” the two guards looked at her in confusion, “Please...make sure she does not exit her quarters for the remainder of the day to prevent further disturbances.”

“As you wish, your highness.” Celestia slowly exited the room, flanked by the two guards.  She paused in the doorway. Some part of her immediately regretted all the things she had just said and done to Luna. The same part of her wanted her to turn around and apologize to her. She scolded herself for thinking like that. Celestia convinced herself that she had only said what her sister needed to have said to her. Luna would probably thank her later. But another part of her knew that she had gone too far. That she might have broken something between them in such a way that it could never be put right again. And that scared her.

“Are you alright your highness?” asked one of the guards, eying her quizzically.

“Yes...Yes everything is fine,” only Celestia knew that everything was far from fine. She collected herself and exited the room. The doors were sealed tightly and Luna could hear them being locked from the outside. She looked up and could see two guards standing watch on her balcony, ensuring that she would not find alternate means of escape. As if her room was not enough of a prison already.

She slowly brought herself to her feet and hobbled over to her inviting bed. She winced in pain with each step and she could feel tears still streaming down her muzzle. She finally flopped down on to her soft bed and resumed bawling like a child.

Luna's mind was racing with feelings of betrayal, anger, sadness and even a bitter feeling  of resentment towards her tyrannical sister. She pounded her pillow repeatedly. Cursing Celestia with each strike. She hated her beyond words. How could her own sister act so abusively towards her. Luna could not think of one thing that she had done to justify such cruel actions.

She kept trying to analyze what would provoke such and act on her sister's part. And the more she analyzed her motives. The more self resentment she began to feel. She was re-living past incidents involving her. The two Nightmare Moon crises. The numerous Nightmare Night misunderstandings. The Stalliongrad incident (During which she indirectly caused the death of twenty royal guars). The more she thought about it, the more she began to think that maybe her sister was right. Maybe she was worthless. Maybe everypony would be better off without her.

When she revised her actions she realized that she was, in fact, the problem in all of these cases. She had caused so much destruction, confusion, terror and death in her lifetime. Most of what she had done, she did inadvertently, but that did not change the fact that she was the cause of it. I'm a menace.

She remembered the old stories she heard the guards whisper amongst themselves. Tales of her transformation into Nightmare Moon. How she had gored and incinerated legion upon legion of guards. Decimating their ranks and burning their facilities to the ground. The guards never saw her as the same mare after that.

She also recalled their frequent criticisms of Luna's action throughout the Stalliongrad incident. How she had collapsed a bridge, much to her sister's chagrin. Only to end up crushing a squadron of elite royal guardsmen who were scaling said bridge. The  guards whispered the story over and over to each other. In hushed tones, behind the monarchy's back. Little did they know that Luna had caught wind of the story...and every last detail regarding it. How they gone so far as to call her a murderer. How they fabricated her cackling with delight afterwards. How all the guardsmen hated her with a burning ferocity afterwards.

She was a pariah in her own kingdom. A misfit. And outcast. No! Do not think like that. You are being weak. This is just what Celestia wants you to do. Do not give her satisfaction, Luna scolded herself for wallowing in her own self pity so foolishly.

Luna brought herself to raise her head from her pillow. She glanced towards her balcony and saw the two guards on duty there chatting amongst themselves. They were pointing at her and shooting glances her way. She knew right away by their body language that they were ridiculing her. Luna grew furious with them and her hoof shot over and grabbed the empty vase on her nightstand. She drew back her hoof and tossed the vase at the glass balcony door vigourously. It hit the door and shattered into millions of tiny shards with a great clatter. Both of the guards shot three feet straight up into the air. Eyes wide with surprise. As soon as they touched the ground, both realized their error and immediately snapped to attention. Facing away from Luna's chambers. All conversation between the two had ceased and was now replaced by an unnerving silence.

Luna's emotions got the better of her once again as she rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow, bawling once again. She lay there for a long time. Cursing her sister and the world around her. She had lain there so long, in fact, that she lost track of time altogether. Hours passed before she was roused by the sound of her door opening and closing quickly. She craned her neck to see what the commotion was all about. Only to see an empty room and a sealed letter resting on the floor, next to the door.

Luna willed herself to slowly limp over to the letter and open it. She dreaded what the letter contained. Could it be another banishment notice? She worried herself sick, fearing that her sister would send her to the moon for another millennium. She never wanted to endure such torture again. As Luna unfurled the scroll and read it her jaw dropped. She could not believe what she was reading.

Gaige shall be transported, via. chariot, to Ponyville to serve as its' temporary guardian against the growing menaces to our empire. You shall accompany him on his journey and serve as his handler throughout his service. You were right sister. I apologize for my behaviour earlier. It was most brutish of me. I hope that you may give us a chance to start anew.

-'Tia