The Powers That Be

Truth is almost always the harder way.  It is far easier to hedge, never to speak the difficult things that need to be said—but a strong blade is forged in the raging fire, not the cool air.

On Ethics – Anonymous, 833 BCE

(translated from ancient Ponic writings)

Celestia regained consciousness slowly.  Sound filtered through to her dazed mind long before her sight returned, so she wasn’t totally surprised to see a pony’s light blue face beside her when she forced her eyes back open.

“Hey, you’re awake,” he said quietly, checking her over.

What did surprise her was the mass of white that posed as the ceiling.  Her head spun when she tried to look around the room, but she was still able to see more and more of the fluffy substance.  She gingerly poked the surface she was lying on and felt it give slightly under her hoof, yet remain firm under her body.  Her eyes went wide.

The pegasus at her side noticed her expression and chuckled.  “Yes, you are up in the clouds.  Quite an improvement from a river, if you ask me.”

Celestia tried to respond, but nothing came out of her throat aside from a raspy, scratching noise.  As she pressed a hoof to her neck and winced, the pegasus held up a glass of water.  He lifted the alicorn as she sat up and helped her sip from it, not letting her take a longer drink before lowering her slowly back to the bed.

“Wha—what happ-ened?” she croaked.

He gave her a soft smile.  “Take it easy for now.  My name is Red Badge; I’m a healer here at Camp Cirrus.  I’ll try to fill you in on what I can.  A few pegasi were out fishing in the river and caught you two instead of dinner.  You were both an absolute mess, but they made sure you were breathing and brought you back here.  Both of you have been resting for two days now.  You were in a pretty bad state when we found you, so you’re bound to be feeling pretty weak for the time being.

“As far as where you are, Camp Cirrus is a bit of a home for pegasi who prefer to avoid the ground as much as possible, given what’s been going on down there.  We just live above the clouds, staying hidden where we can.  Both of you are welcome to stay with us as long as you need or want to.  Just rest for now, and we’ll talk more when you’re feeling a bit better.”

Celestia nodded as much as her spinning head would allow and let her eyes drift back shut.

Over the course of the next day, Celestia made her recovery.  The head and body aches finally eased enough that she could get up and walk around.  Luna, however, refused to wake up.  She occasionally moved slightly or made a low moan, but showed no signs of awareness.  Celestia still sat by Luna’s bedside almost every moment she wasn’t eating or sleeping, though, just in case.

Luna began to kick slightly, tossing in her sleep.  Celestia ran a hoof through her sister’s mane, trying to be comforting as she touched her horn to Luna’s.  Their two horns lit in magical sympathy as Celestia sent every warm emotion she had to Luna’s troubled mind.  It seemed to calm her, and Celestia sniffed as she took Luna’s hoof in her own.

Red Badge came in the doorway behind her.  “Any change?” he asked hopefully.

Celestia shook her head.  “I’m afraid not.  She’s moved around a bit, but she hasn’t woken up.”

He walked over to the bedside and checked the dressing on Luna’s head.  “Don’t worry,” he assured her.  “She took a nasty crack to the head besides the journey down the river.  It’s not surprising it’s taking her longer to recover.”

“But she will recover, right?  Please tell me she’ll recover.”

Red hesitated.  “I can’t say that with one hundred percent certainty,” he said, turning to Celestia, “but I don’t see any reason why she won’t.  Head injuries are… they’re tricky.”

Celestia began to shake as the thought of Luna not waking began to sink in.  “I c-can’t—I can’t l-lose her…” she gasped, feeling the emotions she’d been setting aside for the last few days finally breaking through.

The pegasi medic pulled her into a hug.  “Hey, don’t worry.  We’re doing everything we can for her.  What she needs is for you to believe she’s going to recover.”

It took a few moments, but Celestia was finally able to stem her tears and get her breathing back under control.  “You’re right,” she said, her bottom lip still trembling a bit.  “I need to be strong.  For her.”

“You know what else would be good for you to do?  Eating.”

Celestia stared at him, preparing to tell him that she was perfectly capable of caring for herself, when her stomach suddenly rumbled loudly enough to be clearly audible to Red.  She blushed furiously.

He laughed as he released her and took a step back.  “I’m pretty sure this cloud isn’t about to become a storm cloud, so I’m assuming I’ve won this point?”

She ducked her head as a chuckle escaped her.  “Okay, you win.”

“Great.”  Red helped her back to her hooves and led her out into the heart of Camp Cirrus.

Celestia stared all around her in awe.  It was her first time anywhere near a cloud, and the things she was seeing defied her comprehension.  Red chuckled at her amazement, and she followed him slowly across the surface of the cloud, taking in the sights as she went.  Celestia alternated between gawking at the many buildings that had been constructed—low, flat living quarters and storehouses, built short to be less visible from the ground—and simply marveling at the surface of the cloud itself.  She prodded the cloud with her hoof repeatedly, enthralled by the seeming firmness of the surrogate ground, even though she knew how insubstantial it really was.

Thankfully, the sight of the dining hall reminded her that she had a more pressing matter than curiosity, and Red guided her into the meal line.  Celestia was sufficiently focused on keeping her bowl steady in her magical grasp that she didn’t take notice of the many, many staring pegasi in the building.

“Um…” the alicorn began, staring at her bowl and poking hesitantly at the lumps that swam in the reddish broth, “what is this?”

“It’s just fish.”  Red stopped halfway through a spoonful of the soup and looked at her quizzically.  “You’ve never had fish before?  Really?”

She returned his look.  “Where would I have had fish?  My sister and I grew up on a mountain.”

“Mountains have rivers, don’t they?  Anyway, you’re a pegasus—or at least, part of you is.  Try it!”

Celestia drew a few looks as she levitated the spoon up from the bowl.  Red watched her curiously, waiting to see her reaction.  She closed her eyes and stuck the spoon into her mouth, swallowing the broth and trying to determine if the taste agreed with her.

The soup was unexpectedly good—warm and tantalizingly spicy, but with a savory flavor that she had never tasted before.  Her eyes opened in surprise, and she looked down at the bowl with a smile.  “Wow.”

Red was grinning from ear to ear.  “Pretty good, isn’t it?  Even up here, we manage to do all right.”

Instantly, the aura of cautious distance around Celestia seemed to evaporate, and she tucked into the soup with a will, downing three bowls in a short span.  As she ate, she began to tell her story to Red—and, indirectly, to every pegasus who had suddenly crammed in around them to listen to the first magic-using pony ever to be in their home.  They sat, stood, or hovered around, listening intently to the tale of Celestia and Luna’s foalhood home and their unlikely journey so far—though she avoided the mention of the deaths in their previous stop.

The spoon clattered against the empty bowl as Celestia sat back on the bench, finally sated.  She looked up to notice the rather large crowd gathered around her, and blushed as the pegasi backed off a bit to give her some space.

Red watched her with an oddly conflicted expression on his face.  “So, you two are on a mission to save the world?”

“Well, yeah…” Celestia responded, trailing off under the gaze of so many ponies.  “It sounds crazy, I know, but I swear it’s all true.  If we had—”

She cut off as a pegasus swooped in the doorway, calling out.  “Red!  The alicorn’s awake; she’s calling for somepony named ‘Celestia.’”

The alicorn and the medic leaped up from the table and raced out the door, the latter taking flight to cut across the settlement.  Celestia ran as fast as she could on the clouds, sliding and skidding across the surface from the low traction.  She finally made it back to the small hut where she and Luna had been housed, and she slid to a halt inside the door to see Red Badge looking carefully into Luna’s eyes and checking her pulse.

“Where were you?  Why didn’t you fly?” he asked Celestia, glancing back as she entered.

Completely ignoring Red’s questions, Celestia dropped to her haunches by the bedside and hugged her sister tightly as Luna called out to her.

“Tia!  Oh, thank Harmony,” she gasped.

“I’m here, Lu.  It’s okay.  We’re safe here.”

Her younger sibling clung to her with fierce desperation.  “I saw them,” she whispered.  “I couldn’t stop seeing them.  I just kept seeing them die over and over, and I couldn’t wake up.”

Celestia shushed her sister and embraced her, letting Luna release all of her bottled-up emotion as she wept.

Luna regained her strength fairly quickly over the next few days, but her countenance had changed.  Celestia took note of her sister’s sullen appearance, how she laughed far more rarely and smiled less than she had before.  Celestia tried to talk to her about it, but Luna would always avoid the topic.  “Seeing what I saw changed me, Tia” was all she would ever say about it.

Celestia was thankful that Luna was willing to open up around other ponies, at least.  The same instant that Luna mentioned that neither sister could fly, a dozen young pegasi leapt up to volunteer to give lessons—including Red, and his blush while doing so had been particularly endearing.  The attention was unsettling at first, but the sisters soon adapted, especially once they realized that they weren’t receiving any ill will from the camp’s residents over their sudden popularity.

The next few weeks were a blur for the alicorns.  Almost every hour that wasn’t spent sleeping or eating was spent in the sky, learning to fly from their eager tutors.  Both of the sisters made rapid progress, and flying became almost second-nature to them both.  With the help of their instructors, they put more time into flying in those weeks than they had in their entire lives up to that point.  The feel of flying was incredible.  Celestia found she couldn’t get enough of it.  The sensation of soaring through the sky gave her a thrill—one that was only matched by the thrill she got when Red gave her a proud smile at her progression.

The sisters had friends now; Camp Cirrus was actually starting to feel like a home.  It was almost perfect.  Almost.

That night before bed, Celestia found Luna sitting on the edge of the cloudbank, alone under the stars and staring out over the surface of Equestria, as she had found her every night since Luna had awoken.  The pain and sadness on Luna’s face broke Celestia’s heart, but she couldn’t find a way to talk to her sister.  Every time she approached the topic Luna would give her the same flat rebuttal, and Celestia finally couldn’t take it anymore.

“Seeing what I saw changed me,” Luna intoned, turning away from her.

“What’s wrong with me, then?” Celestia yelled at Luna, her frustration at her younger sister’s stubbornness boiling over.  “Why will you talk to other ponies and not me?”

Luna opened her mouth to respond when Celestia cut her off, clamping her magic around Luna’s mouth.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she growled.  “Don’t you give me that same line again.  Don’t you dare.  What did you see?  What did you see that means you can’t talk to your own sister anymore?  I was there, too!”

Luna shook off her sister’s magic, her eyes glinting angrily.  “We didn’t see the same thing.”

“Oh?  Because I saw a tragedy, but I still acknowledge you.”

Luna recoiled, gritting her teeth.  “I saw my sister run and leave ponies behind to die.”

Celestia pulled back as if she had been slapped.  “I—how could you, Luna!  We did what we had to do!”

“Bright Spark, and Lemon Drop, and Harmony only knows how many others are dead because we did nothing!  We could have done something, led him away.  Anything…”  Luna folded her wings tightly around herself, hugging herself as her head dropped, unable to meet her sister’s eyes.

The white alicorn fumed, trying to hold her tongue.  “You ran, too,” she whispered, trying her hardest not to sound accusatory.

Luna didn’t even look up.  “I know,” she said, her voice almost completely lifeless.  “And I hate myself for it.”

“Do you hate me as well, Luna?”

“I don’t know.  I only know that I should have done something.”

Celestia took a deep breath.  “Luna, I know you don’t want to hear it, but I can’t let you keep ignoring the truth!  It had to happen that way.”  Luna grimaced and turned her back on Celestia as the elder sister continued.  “I’m sorry, Luna, I truly am, but it couldn’t be avoided.  We were given a mission!  We could have saved the colt, but only at the cost of damning the entire world.  Was he worth so much?”

Luna’s wings flared as she spun back around, getting right in Celestia’s face.  “You’re bucking right, he was.”

Celestia pulled back, shocked.  “You would give so much for one life?”

Luna fumed.  “Anything,” she said.

“Would you sacrifice yourself?”

“Anything,” Luna repeated.

The elder sister bit her lip anxiously.  “W-would you sacrifice me?”

The rage finally faded from Luna’s eyes.  She lowered her head, pausing as she searched for words, and knowing how much they would hurt.  “Anything,” she whispered.

Celestia’s eyes began to water.  She spun around and took to the air, the joy in the flight completely gone.  She landed back at their hut, ran inside, and collapsed at the side of her bed, her tears flowing like rain as she held her hooves around her chest.  Red landed outside with a saddlebag on his back and a nervous smile on his face, but his expression faded quickly when he walked in.

“I—” his voice caught in his throat.  “Celestia?” he called quietly.  She looked up and grabbed onto him without saying a word, crying vehemently into his cream-colored mane.  Red shut his mouth and sank to his haunches helplessly, holding the alicorn as she wept.

When Celestia awoke she very nearly panicked, thinking she had lost her sight, until she remembered it was deep in the night.  She shook the strands of her pink mane out of her face and looked around, trying to remember what had happened.  She could hear breathing coming from Luna’s bed, but instead of her sister she saw Red’s form curled up and slumbering, his saddlebag dropped on the floor beside the bed.  Something inside her leapt just a little bit at seeing him, knowing he stayed until she had fallen asleep and had been unwilling to leave her—though it fell again as she realized that meant that Luna was still elsewhere, and after their argument…

Her disquiet intensified as she saw a note on the nearby table, neatly folded.  She picked up the letter and moved to the window to make use of the dim moonlight as she read Luna’s flowing hoofwriting.

Celestia,

I know this doesn’t seem fair, but I’ve come to realize that we’re just two very different ponies, more so than I had thought before.  I can’t thank you enough for saving my life, and for always being there for me, but I can no longer stand back and think only of my mission and my life while others are hurting.  I have to do this, or else I may never be able to look at myself again.  I’m leaving.

Don’t worry about your quest, Tia.  Harmony chose you.  It always wanted you, but you thought for some reason that I could help.  Go, and follow whatever Harmony has laid out for you.  I think I might be doing the same, actually.  I just feel Harmony pulling me in another direction.

I’m sorry for the things I said earlier, too.  I don’t really blame you, certainly no more than I blame myself.  You are the better pony of us, and you’re the one worthy of being Harmony’s champion, not me.

I pray I’ll see you again soon.

Your sister, Luna