Collision Zone

Chapter Two: Promises, Confessions

Twilight blinked. Her mouth dropped open a little, as her mind raced. There was a moment where she just sat completely still, until a pancake slipped off of her fork with a soft 'plop'. It was enough to break Twilight from her self-imposed coma, and she practically levitated her way to the bathroom. Sure enough, her purple eyes were somehow lit from within; a faint glow that made them glitter disconcertingly, and turned her irises a luminous magenta. She felt her tail spread itself out, creeping over the sink and the wall behind her like ivy, but couldn't muster the will to reign it in.

“Twi? W-what's going on?” Spike's voice was soft, from the other side of the bathroom door.

She narrowed her eyes. Things were not going to plan. How to explain things to Spike? She obviously couldn't tell him that she'd inadvertently made a deal with some thing from beyond. He'd... He'd freak. Run to the princess... and then what? Exorcism? Experimentation? No, she wouldn't... but she'd never trust me again. I'm sorry, Princess.

“I... I made a mistake last night, Spike.” Not technically a lie.

“A mistake? Is that really how you feel of our union, dear one?” The voice of Terminus was vaguely reproachful, and a soft ache settled in her chest.

No! Yes. Maybe. I don't know, all right? This morning has been crazy! Think, Twilight... how can I do this without lying to him?

“Mistake? What kind of mistake? You can tell me...” Spike said, sniffling quietly.

“A magical one. I'm going to be stuck like this for a while, until I can sort things out, okay Spike?”
Twilight said, trying to keep her voice even and calm. At any moment it seemed as if her hair would fizz up, and she'd just explode. “Look... do you want to come in?” she continued gently. Spike peeked around the door, twitching when he met her shining gaze then hurriedly breaking eye contact.

“Like this? You mean all glowy and stuff?” he muttered.

“Um kind of. There's a bit more to it, though,” Twilight fidgeted nervously.

“Are you sure this is wise, Twilight?” Terminus' voice caressed her ear, and she smelt a faint scent of honeysuckle flowers. Spike didn't respond, the whisper apparently inaudible to him.

Only one way to find out. She took a deep breath, and cut the threads of magic maintaining the illusion. Her mane and tail shimmered, the purple bleeding out, leaving behind long dark strands of squirming shadow. Spike froze, his eyes widening comically, mouth half open. She grinned back awkwardly, waiting for the other horseshoe to drop.

“Y-y-your mane! Tw-Twilight, what'd you do to it?”

Twilight swallowed, quivering a little. “I may have made a slight miscalculation...”

“Slight!” Spike shook his head, staring at the mane in wonder. It formed swirling coils behind her head with an air of predatory menace. “So what happens now?”

“This never happened. You never saw this. We make do, until I can fix this, okay?”

“S-sure. If you think it's best, Twilight,” Twilight nodded, walking out of the bathroom, heading back up to her room. The paper sat unfinished on the desk. How could I forget about my research document!? … Oh, right. That. No time like the present, though!

As Twilight began to scribble away at the paper, she thought about the princess's response to her paper. Well, fantasized. Twilight! My faithful student! Your writing is revolutionary! This expose on timber wolves is just what we were looking for from you! Here, we have this congratulatory sack of bits for next year's funding. In any case... Twilight, would you consider dinner with me tonight? Twilight broke off the thought—and her quill tip—a soft blush spreading across her cheeks. Where in Equestria did that come from?

“Ah... you think of a goddess... like this?” Twilight winced at the anger in its voice.

Goddess? No no no... Celestia is our princess, not a goddess! We shouldn't worship her, nor Luna, it's unfair to put them on a pedestal like that. She's as much a pony as I am.

“As equine as you are? Yes, perhaps...” Terminus trailed off, as if in thought. Twilight noticed with profound embarrassment that her new mane was making a very suggestive movement with her inkpot, and hurriedly yanked the offending tendril back. “Even so... the immortality would be something of a problem.”

Twilight looked away, her eyes glazing over sadly. Don't remind me. I just... she's always been my hero. She's done so much for ponykind, down the centuries, and she took me as her pupil. I had the occasional dream, growing up, but never anything like that. Not... fantasies.

“Ah. In that case, I suspect it may be the result of the merge. Temporary mental fluctuations, which will pass as we become more... harmonious.”

Changes in mental state?! What next, I'm going to turn into a stallion? All my friends inexplicably fall in love with me? I start needing to drink blood to live? What else haven't you been telling me, Terminus?

“There will be some temporary mental fluctuations, such as mood swings, but as I said, those will pass. I will require... sustenance, some point in the near future, via a certain ritual. No, nothing that will hurt anyone. You will also have, among other things, a vastly extended lifespan, perhaps immortal. Does that answer your questions, dear one?”

For now. Lifespan... wait. I'm going to live much longer than a normal pony? But... my friends... An image of her standing alone before a grave marked 'Fluttershy' sprang unbidden into her mind. I'm going to live to see... that? Tears welled and spilled softly down her cheeks as she silently imagined burying her friends, one by one, helpless to stop.

Pinkie Pie, her tomb adorned with confetti and streamers, all of which slowly disappeared in her vision. The fairytale mare from the gingerbread house, her magic could not defeat old age in the end.

Rainbow Dash... a regal statue of the mare herself, bedecked in royal regalia, was unveiled as the Wonderbolts flew overhead. Soarin', his face wrinkled and pitted, saluted the statue tearfully, his costume donned for the last time.

Rarity, a burial in Canterlot, a white marble plinth carved with three diamonds amongst a small garden of wild flowers. Generous, even in death, she gave this beauty freely to those present.

And lastly, Applejack, a simple headstone on her family's land, bearing her cutie mark, next to all those Apples who had come before her. Applebloom, her mane greying, cried on Twilight's youthful shoulder as she lay down a flower for her sister.

Her mind moved on to others in her life. The Cakes. Applebloom. The idea that she might live to see Spike's death had never even entered her mind, and somehow that just made the idea hurt all the more. She was still weeping quietly when Spike crept up the stairs to offer her lunch.

Spike nearly jumped out of his skin when Twilight latched onto him, sobbing, pulling him into a tight hug. “Spike, I know I've not been treating you properly recently... I'm so sorry. I don't know what I'd do without your help...”

“Um. Twi. You're... sorta... crushing me...” Spike said, flailing uncomfortably as her hair coiled itself around his arms. She quickly let go, sniffling a little. “Phew, not that I don't appreciate the apology, but what brought that on?” He massaged his neck a little.

“I just- I was thinking, while writing the essay, and I realised I'd been neglecting you recently,” She said, glittering eyes wide and tearful.

“Right. Well, apology accepted, I guess.” Spike scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Do you want some lunch? Oh, and Rainbow stopped by. She said something about a scheduled downpour for tomorrow?”

“Bu-but the expedition! The Everfree!” Twilight pouted, eyes still red and puffy. I'll have to reschedule with Fluttershy... well, I can't blame Dash, she came by to tell me specifically. Really nice of her, actually. I'll have to thank her while I'm out... Dash.—The statue flashed before her eyes once more—No. She could see Dash's laughing face in her mind, and she narrowed her eyes, her mind made up. I'll find a way. If I can live to see three hundred years, so can she. So can they all. Death is but an obstacle for the unprepared. If Starswirl the Bearded can a way for fifteen unicorns to move the sun, then I promise I can give my friends the longest, happiest lives they could ever wish for! Still sniffing a little, she crossed her heart with one hoof. There was an tingling sensation in her breast, which quickly passed.

“Twilight? You in there?” Spike waved a hand in front of her face.

“Huh?” She looked up at Spike, her mood lightening.

“U-um... Lunch?” He said, obviously taken aback.

“Sure.”

Her answering smile was joyful and unguarded.

~~~

Celestia's sun dipped low behind the trees, painting the evening sky a brilliant pink. The research paper had taken longer than Twilight had intended, much to her dismay. It was under this light that Twilight Sparkle trotted up the path to Fluttershy's cottage, a personal illusion draped over her back. I feel like I'm lying to her, Terminus... it's not right. Nobody should lie to Fluttershy, she's too sweet. A mental image of the yellow pegasus, her eyes slowly filling with tears, made Twilight almost reconsider coming here. No. I can't just hide myself away, pretend I don't exist... besides, that would just hurt her more.

“Yes dear one. Hard as it might seem, the alternative is worse, as well, you know,” the voice answered from behind her ear.

Ah! T-terminus! You're... back. Where did you go?

“I was... inactive, for a time. To give you time to consider your situation, and to conserve my energy.”

Right. Speaking of which, you mentioned a, and I quote, 'certain ritual', to provide 'sustenance' for you. Twilight reached up a reluctant hoof to knock on the door of the small cottage.

“Yes, that is so. I will keep you informed, but I suspect it will be required no later than next week,” There was a small movement in the curtains, and Twilight caught a glimpse of the yellow mare peeking out. The door opened a moment later, Fluttershy nervously peering at her.
“Oh... um. Hello Twilight. Please, come in.” she said, the words barely audible.

Fluttershy's house was cluttered with ornaments and obscura, an entire shed manticore tail resting against one wall, a relic of a previous expedition. Twilight, however, immediately noticed an odd scraping noise, like tree bark on glass, if she had to put her hoof on it.

“Twilight, I-I caught something you might want to see. It's in the living room. Would you care for some tea?”

Twilight raised an eyebrow at that, but nodded, moving into the living area. It was even more cluttered than the previous, various charts lining the walls, and exotic animal products sat on most surfaces. All collected without harming the creature, if possible, although there were times when the denizens of the Everfree became too aggressive to deal with peacefully. That time with the snarbolax... so lucky that Fluttershy had a bell on her, or we'd have been eaten alive. Twilight shuddered at the thought of the enormous, catlike predator.

“Would no longer be a threat to us, dear one,” Terminus cut in, impinging on the mental image, soothing her agitation. Twilight shook her head, and once more looked around for the source of the noise. Sat on Fluttershy's table, was a glass terrarium. A puppy sized creature that resembled a stylised wolf made of green tree bark desperately scrabbled at the glass. A... timberwolf sapling? She reached out a hoof to touch the glass, but a prickling sensation of dread filled her, and she quickly retracted it. Sun and moon! Any idea what that was?

“It is the servant of another power. Its bond to its master is inimical to our being, unless you assert your own influence upon it.”

Servant of another... The Everfree? I've studied the forest extensively, Terminus. That forest has always been... unnaturally wild. Unharmonious, one might say.

“Is that so? Interesting. Thank you for the information, dear one,” Terminus sounded distracted, thoughtful.

“Our tea is ready,” Fluttershy said, walking in with a tray upon her back. “I see you found my little guest,” she tittered, smiling at the sapling as it chewed at the glass.

“It's adorable,” Twilight deadpanned, the wolf being anything but. “So where did you catch it? You'd have to have gone in fairly deep to even find a juvenile!”

Fluttershy jumped a little, spilling tea onto the table, then hurriedly set down the teapot. “Um... you see... I found it near my house.”

“What?! Fluttershy, why didn't you tell me sooner? If the timberwolves are leaving the Everfree...” Twilight's eyes widened. She could feel her mane coil and expand, reaching out for something to grasp. “I have to tell the princesses.”

“Are you certain bringing them into this is wise? That illusion on your back will not fool them for an instant,” Terminus whispered.

Um... Ohdear ohdear ohdear...

Fluttershy watched, mystified, as the purple mare began to hyperventilate, objects around her seeming to float midair. “T-Twilight?”

“The expedition tomorrow... cancelled. Thunderstorm scheduled. I have to go now... yup. Bye Fluttershy,” Twilight said in a strained tone, then promptly exploded into purple sparks.

~Meanwhile, in Canterlot~

Evening court always was the most tiresome session, Celestia lamented, as she listened to Lord Midnight's third reiteration of his daughter's sleeptrotting problem. She had got what she needed with the first telling, but it would be quite rude to interrupt the stallion's tale, even if it did ramble so.

Just keep smiling, nod a little every so often, he'll stop eventually...

Her patience, which could perhaps be described as glacial, had been steadily stretched to the breaking point between the southern grain shortages, meetings with the griffon chiefs, and the steadily increasing number of court sessions. More petitioners, more situations to consider... night court, too, assuming Luna... Celestia stopped, realising Midnight had finally brought his case to a close.

“Your highness?”

“Oh, yes, my apologies Lord Midnight. It seems to me that your policy of curtailing your daughter's nightly wanderings merely serve to intensify them.”

The second pony, a psychologist by the name of Brainwaves, broke in, “Please excuse my interruption, your highness, but that is exactly what I have told Lord Midnight, time and again! Her nightly sleeptrotting is a problem, one which may injure herself or others if it is not treated. What if she had attempted to trot down a flight of stairs?”

“Yes. Your point was well stated, mister Brainwaves, but I would caution you against speaking out of turn,” Celestia gently admonished him, but smiling in his general direction. “Now, as to the case itself... Lord Midnight, you are to take your daughter to Canterlot general hospital within two weeks, where she is to be treated by a doctor other than mister Brainwaves here. Brainwaves is to have no part in the treatment of the filly, unless doing so would be necessary to save her from life threatening injury. Now, next petitioner, please.”

“That was the last case for this session, your highness,” the royal secretary muttered to her, and Celestia mentally cheered. A few hours off the throne will feel good. Over the years, Celestia had come to sympathise greatly with Canterlot office workers. The throne which had once fit her so well had somehow metamorphosed into a rigid, uncomfortable, wood-and-marble abomination, covered with heavily concealed cushioning charms.

Once she had left the audience hall, Celestia allowed herself a moment to relax. Out of sight, she stretched, then slumped. I feel old. She snorted, the irony of an alicorn feeling her age was scant amusement... It had been a difficult few years, since Luna had returned, only to be defeated by the powers of the Elements. The moon goddess, brought low by ordinary ponies. A Celestia from three millenia ago would have laughed at the idea, but to this one, it merely filled her with sadness. A nagging pain in her stomach. Luna, my sister... where did I go wrong? Since her return, her sister had taken to lurking in her tower, taking neither food nor water, refusing to interact with the outside. Except me. Celestia sighed, walking the winding stairs up to Luna's redoubt. Perhaps it would have been easier if she had turned me away, like the rest... Her hooves shook as the air began to chill, and for a moment she begged for the earth to swallow her, to simply sink away into a moonlit gloom, rather than deal with the questions that plagued her.

Why can’t I help her? Why can’t I fix this rift?

The ghosts of the past hung thickly around her with every step, echoes of a time both sought to forget. Nightmare Moon. The name still evoked bitter anger in her, despite her attempts to cool the temper that had caused the problem to begin with. Celestia snorted derisively. Problem. That would be the understatement of the millennium.

She knocked on the reinforced door to the tower, a portal of black varnished wood carved in the image of a crescent moon. “Luna?” she called softly. The door swung open of its own accord, revealing a dark room. The darkness was no obstacle to Celestia, but she frowned nonetheless. Where will she be this time? The rafters? Luna had displayed a certain tendency to roost since her return, like a pegasus without a foal. Celestia cast out her senses, the great beacon of her sister's life-force shining out from the roof of the tower. Skygazing it is, then. With that, she launched herself through the open window, ascending the sloping roof with measured ease.

“Hello, 'Tia,” the cool voice of the moon princess called out. That nickname again...Celestia smiled softly at her sister, genuine happiness creeping through this time.

“Luna.”

She landed on the roof, her wings flared, before moving to nuzzle her sister, who flinched away, before returning the motion half-heartedly. Seeing the pain in Luna's eyes, Celestia gently hugged her, trying to pour as much comfort as she could into the gesture. Again, Luna tensed, but eventually leaned against her. It brought with it a curious sense of rest, the warmth of being enveloped in the forelegs of a loving mother, tinged with an introspective melancholy. She smiled as Luna's aura spread over her like a blanket, and for a moment, both sisters were at peace. Pulling away, Celestia regarded her sister, who carefully ignored the gaze in favour of staring at the horizon. The silence stretched out, but finally, Luna spoke.

“Tis most strange... a thousand years hence, thou wouldst not have deigned to use thine wings to fly, sister,”

“True enough. But neither would you have sat on the castle roof, gazing at the sunset like a lovesick mare,” Celestia nuzzled her sister again, to take the bite out of her words.

“We suppose so, 'Tia... but our subjects have no need for two rulers. They have thee, Celestia, and have come to depend upon thee. I shall raise the moon, but they shall have no love for one such as I.”

Celestia's eyes narrowed at that. “Now look here! I will not sit here and listen to you badmouth my sister!”

“It saves them the trouble. Thou knowest we hear what they say about us. They think we will... relapse. Bring about a second age of darkness, and listen to the ice crystals sing once more... dost thou remember, 'Tia?”

Celestia felt a chill at that. The touch of magma, the smell of scorched earth, the sun frozen in the sky... Equestria was different, then, before Ponykind... “I remember,” she whispered.

“Then thou knowest why we do this. We are free, safe... and they might continue their lives unburdened by our existence,” Luna looked up at the night sky, stars beginning show through the clouds. They were silent for a few minutes, Luna watching the stars, while Celestia studied her sister with sad eyes. Then Luna spoke once more, a bitter smile stretching across her lips, “Besides, sister, we cannot return as we once were. Not after what we did... what we both did.”

Celestia's jaw clenched as she fought to contain herself. We could fix this, together... why, Luna? Why must you fight me? Luna's gaze hardened, as if she had read Celestia's mind.

“We cannot be reconciled so easily, 'Tia. Do not test us on this matter.”

Celestia looked away from Luna's accusing gaze, feeling her eyes sting, tears flowing gently down her cheeks. Bitter regret mixed with a longing so fierce it became like a vortex, inexorably sucking her thoughts into a downward spiral. The gaze had, for the merest fraction of an instant, held the same glint she had seen a thousand years previous. A glimmering, like moonlight shining off of ice crystals beneath a starless night.

Would you take us back to those times, sister mine? She could taste brimstone, hear the grating cries of their children as they fought for dominance upon weather-scarred rock. A time when Elementals had walked the land. Please, Luna... not after all that we have created together...

It was a terrible thing to realise, an understanding that defied all that she knew as rational thought. The knowledge that she no longer held her sister's trust. After countless millennia together, it had come to this.

To be separate, once more... why can't she see that she is all that matters to me!?

“Please... Luna. It does not have to be this way. We can-” She reached out a shaking hoof to the blue alicorn. The night princess tossed her head, a mane of stars fluttering in the evening breeze.

“No. We cannot. Do not ask us to forgive thee... not yet.” The harsh, commanding voice dropped to the broken whisper of a mare too far gone for hope, “Please, do not ask, we beg of thee, dear, sweet Celestia...”

Celestia recoiled, tears flowing openly, letting out a quiet sob. Why can't I fix this? Why are my powers insufficient just this once? The thought seemed as absurd, as alien, as it had a thousand years ago. It had come down to a single, inescapable fact. She, Celestia, Princess of the Iron Sun, was inadequate. Around and around, for days, years, the problem had haunted her. Luna has turned me away, and I cannot change that fact. Why can't I change that?

The question expelled itself as a wail of pure anguish, echoing out across the spires of Canterlot. Neither was entirely sure who had screamed first, but when the pitiful sound finally ended, both alicorns found their throats raw. Celestia looked up, in the ringing silence, to meet Luna's steely gaze. It was then that the moon princess smiled. A pained, brittle thing that tore at Celestia's heart, but a smile nonetheless. And while her voice cracked slightly, there was some small humour to it.

“Thou hast changed much in my absence, 'Tia. Thou doth eat, drink, even sleep. It is curious, how alike in manner thou hast become to our creations.”

“I took on students in your absence... I think, in many ways, they showed me what it was like, to act mortal, if only for a while. It is fun, to pretend every so often.” Celestia let out a shuddering sigh, wiping a hoof across puffy, reddened eyes.

And it is nice, sometimes, not to remember all that I should. Whichever earth pony who had first discovered whiskey deserved a very nice memorial, if she could ever find their grave.

“Is that so? If one had approached us before... the fall, and told us that thou wouldst one day espouse the merits of mortal roleplay, we would have laughed in thy face,” Luna chuckled bitterly. “It will not be enough, sister. What we did...”

What we both did, Luna. I pray that we are able to find a way...

Celestia pulled the smaller alicorn into a firm hug, and that was all it took for the dam to burst. Luna let out a choked sob, and snuggled into her sister's neck, weeping brokenly. “Shhhh... Lulu, I-I... I will be there for you,” she murmured to Luna, gently stroking her mane with one hoof. I will do what I can... how? How can I resolve this? Lulu... can the love of centuries become so easily undone?

“T-Tia... w-w-we...”

“Hush, Lulu.” Celestia smiled, cradling her sister to her. It was as if the clouds had finally parted, if only for an instant, light she had missed for centuries streaming down upon her. And this time, she found the tears were, perhaps, not something to be despised.

After a time, Celestia began to hum, rocking Luna gently. The song was one she had sung to her sister during her stay on the moon, a calm lament for her mistakes. Planting a kiss on the trembling alicorn's cheek, Celestia buried her face in that blue, fluffy nothingness. It was comfortable and warm, like resting upon a cloud that smelt of honeysuckle and stardust. There is much I would do differently, now... Luna, I cannot ask that you forgive me my failings, merely that we continue to move forward. I will always love you, little sister, even though I may falter.

And so the two alicorns sat, together beneath the stars, until sleep stole over them both.