The Unknown History and The Magical Future

Two months later...

Priscilla's condition grew worse and worse. For the first few weeks after waking she could still gallop, eat, drink, and do magic. As time passed everything changed. She could no longer stand, her magic was feeble at best, and she needed assistance when trying to eat or drink. Priscilla was bedridden and coughing constantly; she would cough up bits of glistening magic and blood. The slightest sounds would cause her ears and head feelings of discomfort. Her life was draining from her with every minute, and she had Princess Celestia write her will. The smallest movements would cause her pain, and when she cried the muscles in her face clenched and seared in agony.

Luna had fallen into a great depression and spent over 90% of her time in her chamber. Celestia had assumed the responsibility of raising the moon again. Luna would barely eat or sleep. She would stay awake for days crying, just wallowing in sorrow and loss.

Celestia's horn shined with a yellow aura and the tray lifted off the table and floated beside her. She lightly knocked on Priscilla's door. "Come in." Celestia heard Priscilla say in a whisper. The princess opened the door, and entered the room. The once beautiful, elegant Priscilla was now gaunt, bony, and pale. Celestia put the food on Priscilla's dresser. She sat down next to the Malhornesi on the bed, magically bringing a spoon full of soup to the sick pony's lips. When she had finished the spoon returned to the bowl. Priscilla smiled and spoke. "To think, after all the battles, all the fighting, that I would be killed by old age." She chuckled to herself. The chuckle changed into a raspy, deep cough and blood spewed from her lips onto the already blood stained cloth that sat on her lap.

"Shhh, shhh, shhh." Celestia said as a napkin wiped the saliva and blood from the Malhornesi's lips. "I'll have this washed." She said, rising from the bed bring the bloody cloth with her.

"Celestia," Priscilla stopped the princess at the doorway, with her words. "Thank you."

Luna's eyes were red and sore. They hurt and were blurry. She couldn't stop the endless flow of tears, that streamed down her cheeks. The salt tasting liquid ran across her lips, and onto the balcony. She had her face towards the ground as her vision was filled with images of Ambrose, Pandora, and Priscilla. She couldn't help feel guilty. She had put them through so much. The training, the war. Luna remembered asking Ambrose about the scars that riddled the right side of his face. He had told her that most of them were from training, and the rest from his battles. She remembered what Pandora looked like the day the princesses had the Malhornesi brought over from the Crystal Empire. She was recovering but Luna could still see the cuts and bruises that covered her body. She remembered Ambrose's words: a dinner with the beautiful Princess Luna. At this she resumed her sobbing as memories of her true lover overthrew her thoughts.

Priscilla stared blankly at the wooden doors across the room from her. She was deep in thought, in recollection. Scenes of battles and death dropped in and out of her conscious. She remembered being covered in blood that wasn't her own, tearing through the enemy's flesh, and cursing the name of chaos. She remembered all the Malhornesi of the seventh and fifth regiments that died, in the barren wasteland. She remembered coming home to the princesses who told them of their victory and how the enemy Priscilla would've given anything to kill was reformed and lived under the same roof as the alicorns. Leech's betrayal, Metus's return, Ambrose's last words, Pandora's death. The past had shaped the present into a sick, twisted story. The world seemed to be a sick joke formed by a malicious ruler. Her thoughts were interrupted by a fit of painful, uncomfortable choking and hacking.

Celestia laid in front of the broken shrine of her parents. It was one of the many artifacts that was annihilated in Metus's wake. All that remained of the great stone work was a base plate, and eight hooves. Her eyes were the ones now filled with liquid sadness. The droplets fell from her face onto the snow. She spoke in a voice cracked, and filled with hopelessness. "What do I do? I'm losing my sister again, my family, and friends are fading...it's all falling apart." She had had many friends and pupils over the centuries, each and everyone of them died; but this was different, these ponies had become a part of her family, and part of who she was.

Celestia entered Priscilla's chamber and walked over to the side of the sick Malhornesi. The pony struggled to sit up, and Celestia laid one hoof on her chest. "Priscilla-"

"Don't." Said the smaller pony. "Celestia, my time has come." Taking in the meaning of her words Celestia's eyes filled with tears, and her lips quivered. "I need you to promise me something."

"Anything." Celestia managed to choke out.

"Please. Please, please, please, don't let them forget. Don't let them forget about us, not again." Now both the pony's eyes filled with tears. Priscilla slowly sat up and used her legs to support herself. She now standing at full height, and she raised her head high. Her horn shined with a bright light one last time, and she transformed. Her sickly, bony figure grew strong and healthy, and the color returned to her body. A single tear drop rolled down her cheek, and fell onto the mattress below. Priscilla's time had come and her body grew gray and hard as she transformed into stone. Where Priscilla had once stood was now a statue of a magnificent, strong Malhornesi who had her head raised high in honor. The last of the great race of Malhornesi was dead. With the sight Celestia pulled a pillow close and cried into it. The sobbing went on and on, and everypony in the castle knew what had happened.