A single whisper calls out into the night against the storm. Teary eyes slide shut as the weight of sorrow draws everything to a close for a bitter moment. Even as it passed, and she forced herself to breathe once more, the twisted taste of bile stuck to her throat.
Victory had been had, but at a cost far too high. If she was to call this whole farce anything, it would be a betrayal of everything. A betrayal of what she believed in, a betrayal of who she believed in, and it felt as if even the Elements themselves had turned against her. Even as they floated by her, bowing to her as their new master, Celestia felt as if they had somehow tricked her. She had begged them to change her sister back, not for them to send her away into the darkness. As her hatred welled up in bitterness, wanting to blame something for all of this, the shimmering violet star that was the sixth element dimmed, before turning as black as the skies above, and Celestia knew that the Elements of Harmony had now turned their back on her as well. By the time this thought had chance to finish, the six gems had encased themselves in stone. A single blink, and they ceased to hover in their soft magic, and hit the ground with dull thuds that felt both fitting and unnecessarily cruel in their sound.
If someone had told her in that bleak moment, that she would one day reunite with her sister in laughter and joyous tears, with Celestia herself bringing it all together in a happy close by speaking the simple phrase of “Would you accept my Friendship?” to Luna - Just as Luna had spoken it to that pesky prankster draconequues colt when they had just been fillies, she would have laughed in their face. How in all the realms above and below, could such a stupid, cheesy, and shallow statement fix everything? How could it explain how she realized now how blind she had been? How could it convey how sorry she was that in her pride she had foalishly assumed she could always fix everything and had left Luna in her lonely grief? No, she wouldn’t have believed it.
Then again, she would have never believed in that bitter moment, that she would ever find it in herself to raise the sun again. As she stood there in the silent rain that drowned the scarlet flames that marked where hatred had scarred the land, she found it hard to believe anything. Somehow, she could almost hear Discord’s cruel laughter again, see the dark and sadistic look in his eyes as he struck that pose, his voice shifting slightly as he made a prediction. A prediction that stated that in her blindness, she would destroy everything she cared about, and hurt the ones she loved most. That she would send her own precious kingdom, that she stole away from him then, into destruction in her foolishness.
A well of emotions filled up and overflowed as rage of her own bubbled up. Her defiance was said once again to the wind, this time in a furious scream that left her throat feeling raw in its wake. What had been left of a carved stone wall crumbled as it broke under the force of a buck that left her anger to dissipate in the rain like the last few flames that still struggled to burn under the downpour of the void skies above.
Her eyes slid slowly down to the puddles forming around her darkened hooves, watching with a puzzled numbness as the water split into swirling colors over and over as blood and ash took turns to mix in with it. Red would split through the clear glass like a master’s paintbrush, dissolving into pink then gold before being washed away altogether, while ash would tint everything monochrome for a split second as the dusty black specks swirled about before settling and vanishing away. She could watch this simple process over and over as they dripped in drops from her muzzle and mane into the accumulation below, and feel nothing for just a little while.
Eventually, the tiny puddles ceased to be marked by the splattering of colour and she found herself with nothing more to watch. For a second, there was an oddly happy sort of revelation in that the puddles were quickly growing and joining together into a rippling mirror, for it gave her something else to distract herself with. Another reason to simply not think about anything, to not feel anything, to not believe anything. Even that quickly vanished, however, as the mirror grew large enough for her to see herself, and that moment of recognition felt much as if she had been bucked hard in the stomach. In the moment she had wielded the Elements in their entirety, they had changed her soft rose mane into a form and colour reminiscent of her mother’s. Pastels came together into a wavy flow that held itself aloft and waving in the still and windless night. It seemed unnaturally bright against the broken and monochrome ruins that filled her vision, and the colors themselves seemed to speak of Spring and hope.
Celestia despised it utterly.
For a long second she simply stared at her reflection. Then, a bitter anger flashed across her face as she reached for her magic with a single thought in her mind, her new reflection still bright in her mind’s eye. She felt what it was like to hold her sword aloft for the last time as she hauled it out of the rubble it had been buried in. The blade gleamed oddly for a split second, before spinning to her will and cutting her mane and tail short. Magic abandoned its hold on the weapon then, and the stained gold and bronze fell to the spot where it would stay forever more.
Her gaze returned to her reflection, as it revealed that her mane had returned to what it had been the night before, a soft pink that nearly matched her eyes, albeit a great deal shorter than it had been. Magic still seemed to reside in it however, and she knew that once it had chance to grow again, it would regain its new shape and colour.
Perhaps, by then though, she wouldn’t mind. Perhaps by then, the pain would have faded and she could stride on with a soft smile leading her people onwards. Perhaps by then, she could even envision what Luna’s mane would look like once she had chance to share this new magic without feeling as if she would wake up in just a minute to realize a broken heart-beat later that she wouldn’t. Perhaps, by then, she could even look joyfully into the future again.
Surely, the broken ruins that surrounded her would rise in brilliant marble and gold lacings, and would mark a land even better than the one Luna and her had forged. The forests, now smouldering and crackling with the broken colors of Luna’s hatred, would grow once again… Dark trees and vibrant vines would reclaim the places where her Mother’s magic still breathed in their incomprehensible whispers and dancing shadows. The rose garden that Luna had loved would be brought back with care and magic, maybe even into something greater. Perhaps she could even make it into the sort of thing that Luna had always loved about the Air Lands, a zoo of sorts, where every living thing, flora and fauna alike could live in harmony to the wonder, amazement and amusement of their little ponies. The dragon clans that had been torn apart in the Royal Sister’s fight would surely once again come back together into an unmarked whole, filling the skies with the terrifying and exhilarating sounds of their migrations, wings like drum beats slamming into the wind as their scales lit the world underneath with a thousand colors in a way beyond description… Perhaps even the pony clans themselves could come together into a whole, and the land that was now enshrouded in darkness would become a utopia enviable to even the Crystal Kingdom.
To be honest, Celestia couldn’t even believe in her own false and envisioned optimism or daydreams. Not today, not tonight. To be honest, she wished she could leave the world in the starless night that her sister’s banishment had created. Leave it in a silent black lullaby that echoed the bleak shadows of her heart that had pulled her deep into the depths of their despair… But the sun had to rise. For everything to move forward again, the sun had to rise. For this all to be for something, to give this pain a purpose for existing, the sun had to rise. But she wouldn’t raise the sun quite yet.
For a second longer, she would stand here in disbelief. Maybe if she stood here, and closed her eyes against it all, it would hide her from the pain for a moment longer. For just a little longer, she would refuse to believe this all wasn’t just a terrible dream.
Author's Note
Hi guys... Yeah I'm still alive.
An author I liked once said, "Non-existance sucks. HARD." and although it made me laugh, I never really understood what he meant.
I think I get it now.
For the past five weeks, I've had writer's block so bad that even the random stories that I always have rattling around in my head had fallen silent. So, when I say that I am really happy in this weird thing's very existence, I'm sure you can take a wild gandering guess as to why.
As for why my writer's block is finally lifting, you can thank Lauren Faust for it. No, that's not a pun, you can literally thank her for it. Her, and those awesome people making these Vocaloid piano arrangements. And Eurobeatbrony's Luna.
But mostly Lauren; For restoring my faith in MLP by joining up with Fighting is Magic and helping them bring it back from the brink of death and giving me reason to dance around my living room squeeing like a fangirl.
Why am I still rambling? I have no idea.
I guess that means its time to shut up now.
Thanks for reading!
