Equestrian Empire

Trumpeted fanfare suddenly blasted through the air, signaling an official announcement and drawing the attention of all within range to hear it. Equestria’s people held varying expressions on their faces as they looked to the liveried crier standing self-importantly on his pedestal. Some were curious, some wary, and a few barely managed to thinly veil their hostility at the royal golden colors. All watched intently as the little man, more of a boy really, withdrew a rolled up scroll from his dark purple tunic and unfurled it with a flourish before speaking.

“Citizens of the Equestrian Empire,” The short, green-haired page began, causing a few eyebrows to raise. They were an Empire now?

“It is by royal decree that I stand before you all to announce that all citizens are required to attend the execution of our country’s worst threat, a traitor from within.” The messenger cried with relish, clearly loving his job and the attention it gained. As the crowd reacted accordingly to his words with shocked gasps and murmurs, he smirked, ready to sate their curiosity—and his own—with more dramatic flair.

“And so her majesty Queen Celestia has ordered for all to witness the beheading of…” The young man faltered as the name written on the scroll met his eyes, losing his polished aplomb for the first time since he’d taken the position as herald years ago. The crowd grew restless at his stunned silence, their speculating murmurs swelling to angry, demanding shouts.

“Well?!”

“Who is it?”

“Tell us the traitor’s name!”

“Just say it, Spike.”

This last, soft command cut through the roar of the crowd for the page, and he blinked at his name being used, or nickname rather, given to him for his unruly, always cow-licked hair that spiked at the least provocation. His gaze searched the milling throng of people, recognizing the voice as the person named on his paper, and the blood drained from his face when he found her, her telltale sapphire eyes glittering with emotion from beneath a hood.

“Her Royal Highness Princess Luna,” Spike finally intoned, both greeting the woman who’d named him and sating the crowd’s curiosity.

He watched in unseeing admiration as Luna effectively used the citizens’ uproar as a distraction and seemed to just vanish. He somehow knew in his heart that he would never see the dark-haired princess again, and his heart was heavy with the knowledge. His shoulders slumped.

As the crowd turned riotous in disapproval over the decree, the Sun Guard closed ranks around Spike, protecting him from the people’s reactionary wrath but also filling his vision with their reflective armor, so that he was forced to face the pathetic, costumed puppet he’d become. Staring into his own green eyes with dumbfounded horror, he only had one thought.

What would become of Equestria?

Celestia watched the chaos unfold in the streets of Canterlot, knowing the seeds she’d planted here would grow and spread, until they choked her entire country. Though her unusual rose-colored eyes glistened briefly over what she had done, she kept her head up in defiant arrogance. There were no regrets.

She went to turn away from the view, but not before a single airship sailed off toward the horizon. Celestia stopped, unable to help staring after it, until it was nothing but a tiny black speck in the distance and then gone completely. Celestia’s lips curved upward on one side in a half-smile. “Soon, sister. Soon Equestria’s people will have the queen they deserve.”

With those words again, she walked away once more, turning her back on her sister. It was in Luna’s hands now. Now, she must embrace the role of villain.

And she knew exactly where to begin.

Luna could only stare sightlessly at the brilliant sun rising over the horizon. Behind her she could hear—and feel—the almost panicked flurry of activity and tensions of her most loyal crew as they prepared the airship for its journey. Already the great vehicle’s engines had rumbled to life and set them afloat, but much work had to be done to keep the craft in order.

“Highness,” Came the familiar voice of one of her trusted captains, a dear pilot—and friend—named Flamewing, or at least that was all he answered to. Luna couldn’t say he hadn’t earned the right, as he was the best pilot she’d ever seen.

“What is it?” She murmured, unable to face her friend just yet. She kept her eyes out onto the beautiful view of her country, hands loosely clasping the railing. She knew what she would see in Flamewing’s face if she turned.

“Where should we go? There’s a lot of talk of rebellion out there. People know this is only the beginning and would be more than willing to rally with you.”

Luna closed her eyes. Where to go, indeed? Her sister was powerful. And though she didn’t seem to know the Queen all that well anymore, she had no doubt anyone who aided her would only be putting themselves in danger. Even her own crew here were all risking themselves just by agreeing to transport her—or more accurately refusing to be left behind.

There were only two people in the world she knew that could possibly stand up to Celestia’s might.

“We go to the Crystal Empire,” Luna said decisively, nodding her head for extra conviction. “Cadie and Shine-Boy will know what to do.”

Flamewing smirked at the nicknames. “Yes, ma’am,” He acknowledged with a crisp salute, walking back inside to the bridge.

It was only when his footsteps echoed into silence that Luna turned her head so that she could look back on her home. Already Canterlot in all its gleaming glory was nearly impossible to see, an amorphous white blob in the distance.
Luna felt tears sting her eyes, but she furiously blinked them back. She wasn’t sad, not wholly. Instead, she was angry. Though she mourned for her people’s predicament and the loss of the sister she once knew, revenge coursed through her veins like the sweetest of syrups. She would return, and she would make things right.

Suddenly she could make out several objects in the sky, far off but steadily growing larger—closer. Luna furrowed her brow, staring in incomprehension as her own airship army bore down on them. Seemed she wasn’t the only one who was angry. The ships were close enough now that she could see the great swaths of golden fabric draping their hulls, marking them as Sun warriors now.

“Highness, get inside!”

Luna snapped out of her staring, looking to her crew in newfound horror. She knew Celestia would not take kindly to being thwarted this way, but this? Surely her own sister wouldn’t blow her out of the sky? The loud boom of a warning shot dispelled any remaining illusions Luna held. Celestia truly meant war, for whatever reason.

“If it’s war you want, Cel, it’s war you’ll get,” Luna growled fiercely, one fist clenching on the railing before she dashed inside, her brain on fire as she sorted out the situation and how to get her crew out of it alive.

They were ready and waiting for her, though not in the most literal sense. Flamewing, as pilot and captain of the vessel rolled together, was already barking out orders, the rest of the bridge in a flurry of organized activity to accomplish them.
The moment Luna stepped into the bridge, her dark hair almost crackling with her fury, Flamewing deferred to her with a nod, focusing his energy on the not-so-easy task of maneuvering the giant ship through Celestia’s barrage of cannon fire.

The princess’ sapphire eyes blazed with anger as she swept her gaze around the room and her crew, noting what was already being done. Flamewing had proven his immense capabilities once again, and so her mind was able to focus on one thought. How DARE her sister use her own fleet against her?

“Commander!” Flamewing interrupted the royal rage as the airship shook from the force of a direct hit to their shield. “I can’t do this forever!”

Luna noticed the switch to her wartime title and seethed inwardly at what she was about to say. Outwardly, however, she appeared to return to her normal calm self. “I will turn myself in,” The princess stated in clear voice. “I will not let you all sacrifice yourselves over this.” She paused. “Over me.”

Several outcries were made over this, but it was Flamewing who silenced them all. “And if you die, Commander? What hope does Equestria have then?” He demanded, his eyes never leaving his navigation, even as the ship shuddered once more.

Luna held her ground even as others lost their balance to the craft’s pitching, her stance firmly in place. “I have faith in my fleet, Captain,” She replied. “I always have. By taking me prisoner, the Queen will desist, and you will all be free to—”
Her words were cut off by yet another explosion, this one worse than the others and followed by three terrible words from the engineer on deck.

“Shield’s down, Captain!”

Luna didn’t bother debating further. She sprinted across the bridge, her boots tapping on the metal floor, sounding off the countdown to their surrender. Without looking at Flamewing, she slammed her fist onto the obvious red button near his right hand, sending the flare notifying their enemies of their decision to yield up into the sky.

Only after she was satisfied by the tell-tale high-pitched shriek of the surrender flare did she turn to Flamewing, wanting to commit his face to memory. She blinked once in surprise to find his expression a mirror of her own: fierce determination mixed with anger, his emerald eyes sparking with it and his jaw mutinously set. She couldn’t think of another time when Flamewing hadn’t smiled, and now he glared out at the horizon, refusing to face her.

“We wanted to fight with you,” He muttered, his hands still grasping the wheel tight enough that his knuckles were white.
Luna smiled, a rarity itself, and reached to cover one of his tense hands with her own. It seemed they had switched roles on who was comforting who.

“You’ll just have to break me out of prison, then, won’t you?”

Flamewing turned to her then, revealing the desperation in his bright eyes. “She won’t give us the chance. She’ll—”

“Incoming!” Someone cried, and Luna looked outward at the sound.

“No,” She breathed in denial before the onslaught of missiles barreled into the ship.