2 - Alea Iacta Est
Canterlot
c1300 years ago
My earth ponies are generally a wary lot. My pegai can fly from almost any danger, and their weight-altering magics mean that even without wings, they would need fear no fall. Their magical resistance to temperatures, which keeps them comfortable flitting through the thin, icy air among the cloud tops, also means they could march through open flames, the coldest tundra, and even be struck by lightning, and remain completely unscathed.
My unicorns are arcane generalists, even the weakest of whom can hurl darts and missiles. Some can call illusions, to send most potential threats fleeing in fear, while the truly powerful can summon the very emotion of terror itself, hold an antagonist fast in a magical grip, or raise them high in their aura, before letting them plummet to the ground.
But my earth ponies can do none of these things. They can't take to the sky en masse and rain stones from on high. Neither can they focus an entire village's telekinesis on a monster and literally tear it limb from limb. What they can do, however, what they excel at, is making things grow. Almost nothing can penetrate the thick hedges, and sprawling thorny tangles they erect around places they wish to protect, but these things do not move with a pony, a do her little good if she is not surrounded by them.
Despite the thick skins, powerful muscles, and sturdy bones of their bodies, and the preternatural strength and toughness their magic gives them, as a rule, they avoid high places whenever possible. This includes flight, and Luna was no different. Even after she earned her horn and wings, adding the unicorn's and pegai's innate magics to her own, it took some time before she finally followed me aloft. It took longer still before she learned to prefer her wings to her hooves, but once she did, her enthusiasm overcame her fear, and she would dive, giggling from the precipices of the highest anvil-topped cumulonimbus she could find.
She said the freedom was what she loved. That after spending her entire life bound to the ground, the ability to soar over it was a thrill like no other. Sometimes, I still envy her that; I have never been unable to fly, or subject to any limitations of my power or freedom, and though I have always enjoyed flying, the incredible emotions I could see on her face when those restrictions were lifted from her, made me, unflatteringly, jealous. Even now, centuries after she first took wing, she always wears a radiant smile here, among my clouds.
It's a beautiful thing to see as I soar behind her, and while the gusting, high-altitude winds are ameliorated somewhat in her wake, they still buffet my wings pleasantly. Even now, in the heart of summer it's as cold as the depths of winter this far above my world, and I find it invigorating. Oh, how I love to fly!
Below us, I can see our destination: the lone peak of Canterlot Mountain; for centuries Luna's favorite place in all Equus. If she isn't at our castle in the Everfree, she can usually be found here, frolicking on the broad meadow growing on Canterlot Rock - the huge plate of gneiss which juts over the sheer drop to the land below - or wandering the honeycomb of jeweled caves and passages within the mountain itself.
There are many of those; Canterlot was a mine in her youth, filled with the gems carried up from the bowels of my planet in the currents of magma welling in the volcano I remember it being before my ponies were even ponies. It's slopes and surrounding forests grew as thick in the fertile volcanic soil then as they do now, and there had been plans for farmer's orchards to join the miner's tunnels. But I was afraid Luna would loose her special place forever, so I'd ordered the mine, and its nascent settlement abandoned.
After she joined me in royalty, she finally dared tell me she'd regretted my decision, but had trusted her Princess to do what was best. I'd considered reopening it, but by then, however it was long deserted, and now, all these years later, we're the only ones who remember.
The air grows warmer as we descend, circling around the snowy peak to set down in the meadow's long grass. A waterfall cascades down from the glaciers, part of it pausing on its journey to the river below long enough to change a depression in the stone to a pond, before plummeting off the edge. I close my eyes and hold the beautiful image in my mind, opening my other senses to the world around me. A gentle breeze blows, ruffling my mane. Insects buzz softly in the flowers. Luna drinks from the crystal waters.
Peace.
Together we pass the day in the best of ways: talking and playing, supping on the tender grass, and bathing in the frigid water. Most ponies would have found it intolerably cold, running as it does straight from the ice on the peak, but Alicorns carry all the ponies magics, including pegai's, and the chill was merely pleasant.
As the time for night draws close, we make our way to the tip of Canterlot Rock. I lay prone with a contented smile, my head held high as I look out on my kingdom and sigh. “Surely there is no pony so lovely, or so well beloved as I.”
Luna laughs a little bit. “What a thing to say, sister.”
“There is no harm in telling the truth, little sister.”
“We sayeth not that it harms, we merely observe that,” - she ponders a moment - “modesty hath never been among thy virtues.” I say nothing. She's right, of course, but why should I be modest? Everything that is, including my ponies, as much as I love them, exists to serve me; I made them so.
Well, no, not just to serve me, not anymore, I think with a smile. Us!
At long last, my dream is fulfilled! A little filly with a penchant for sleeping through the day caught my notice when a crescent moon appeared on her flank. It's true that celestial cutie marks aren't unheard of on earth ponies, linked as they are to seasons and planting cycles, but her habits of stargazing, mapping my constellations, and writing stories about them hinted there might be more meaning behind it than that.
I watched from afar as she grew, impressed by the great fecundity her magic contributed to her family's fields – she truly was a remarkable farmer, even for an earth pony, especially for a filly - and by the kindness she was always eager to share. One day, I decided to take her under my wing. I taught her, trained her, and in time, proving just as deserving as I'd hoped she'd be, offered her the spark of divinity; it wasn't long before she blew it to flames and became an Alicorn. My very first! Dear Princess Luna, my sister from that day forth.
But while the world has changed around her, and she thinks she has learned so very much, it has in fact changed very little, and been a mere blink of an eye, as I measure things, since she was born. How much can one really learn in a mere few centuries? She is an immortal, but she is a young immortal, still callow, and full of the idealism of youth. She still confuses love with leniency, and does not demand the proper obeisance from my children. She even takes a puerile joy in using the antiquated speech patterns of her fillyhood, knowing perfectly well they have long since fallen out of use. “For fun,” she says. No matter; her affectations are quaint, but harmless, and in time, with my guidance, she'll learn the proper place of all of my creations: cradled lovingly beneath us.
In time, but not today, and why think of that now? After centuries of tutelage, I have finally deemed her worthy of not merely a title: Princess Luna, but responsibility: Luna, Princess of the Night. This is a time for celebration!
“You are much too quiet, sister. We haven't offended thee, have we?”
Now it's my turn to laugh! “No, you have not.”
“Good. We would not be pleased to have soured the mood.” A gorgeous smile spreads across her face. “We hath prepared a spectacle of such majesty! Thou inquired why we asked for thine accompaniment to Canterlot this morning; this is why! Thou knoweth Mount Canterlot is our favorite place in all the land, and we wish thou to savor with us from here, this first special night of our duties.”
I smile and lower the sun. “Show us, little sister.”
She closes her eyes as a soft glow envelopes her horn, casting our shadows on the rock. The moon rises, and her eyes open as she lays down beside me, but her aura never fades. “Keep watching the sky!” she says through a look of intense concentration.
From the empty left horizon to the right, where the moon sits, stars pop in to being, flashing silver, blue, and red out of the velvety blackness, then fading to steady twinkles. They are the only stars out tonight: a line of tiny gems leading from one side of the sky to the next. I wonder what she has planned?
As if in answer to my unasked question, shooting stars fall like rain; brilliant streaks sheeting together from left to right, but burning out as they reach the row of new stars so none fall below it. The sheets of streaking light plunge and mix together, and the shapes of gryphons, dragons, minotaurs, and of course, ponies coalesce from the blending sparkles. As old ones burn out, new ones fall just slightly out of their place, making the characters seem to march atop the line.
She's made a road! A road of stars with creatures dancing along it, given shape and semblance of life by the meteor's evanescence! I watch their progress from one side of the sky to the other with a smile on my face, recognizing it as a scene from one of the tales she wrote about my constellations. My sister truly is magnificent!
In her tale, the creatures of Equus, saddened by the moon's loneliness, march up to keep her company. Touched with their concern, she rewards them by turning the willing into stars, and giving them homes in her sky.
Just so tonight: the meteor-creatures vanish as they reach the moon, only for the original constellations they represent to flare brilliantly back into their proper place against the blackness. Eventually, when the last one has gone, the star road winks out, spark by spark, until the moon remains, shining with her new friends.
I nuzzle her, and lean more heavily. “That was beautiful, sister.”
“We are glad thou appreciated it. We wanted thee to know thy decision to grant us demesne over the night was a proper one.”
I lay my head atop her withers. “I had no doubts before, sister, now I doubt I ever will.”
“Huzzah!” she cries, only slightly louder than normal, then turns her head, and smiles, looking at me askance. “Our nights each shall be a paean to thee, dear sister, but as their beauty becomes known, thou will remember not to become too jealous.” I summon a mildly biting look in response, and stare into her eyes.
“Sorry it has to be this way, Princess, but the day will always outshine the night,” I giggle, and raise my snout to the sky, letting my pink tresses fall between us. A moment passes. Then two. Have I hurt her? I only intended a gentle chastisement.
At last she laughs, putting my worry to rest. “Just as we hath said: modest as the sun itself!” She shifts slightly, allowing her full weight to press against me, and we pass her beautiful night together, under her stars.
The Crystal Empire
Present Day
The thing about Twilight is, she's not my apprentice, and she never has been. Yes, she has been my personal student, and still is despite earning her wings. She's also the most talented magic user I've ever encountered in my long life. I love her dearly, but she isn't like me; she's like my sister, Luna.
Sunset, though is me. Younger, more reckless, less magically potent, to be sure, but so much like me in other ways, it borders on the incredible. Her confidence, and power; her bearing and wit; I see so much of myself in her, which is probably why I did it: gave her the seed before she was ready. She needed guidance, and temperance, yes, but I could teach her those. Surely she could not fail? I could not fail. Not again.
But I did.
Fortunately, I learned from my failure with her what I did not from Luna's, and was able to turn Twilight to the right path in time, but I am the sun, and my sister the night. Sunset, too is the sun, and Twilight the night: there must be both.
So here I wait, in the corridors of the Crystal Castle, cloaked in my most potent obfuscating magic. Not even my dear sister would be able to detect me. I've ordered the mirror moved to a room closer to Princess Twilight's – one of the wunderkammer in their guest wing - and sent the majority of the guard to watch a perimeter I knew Sunset would not need to breach.
Late into the night, after the lamp-crystals have been dimmed, and the guards have grown bored of their rounds, a flash of light through the keyholes tells me she's arrived. I watch her stealthily creep through the door, and follow her down the corridors. How easy it would be to catch her now! But no, she must be saved, so for the sake of one tragically lost little unicorn, and the hope of what she might one day become, a bit of my subtle magic turns a guard's head here, and brings the spark of another's own headlamp back to him out of the darkness, there, distracting him long enough to let her sneak past.
At last we arrive at Twilight's room. It's a normal guest room, as she refused to accept a royal suite in order to be with her friends, so the lock on the door is no match for a unicorn of Sunset's skill. No matter, I would have opened the seals of the royal vaults themselves for her, if that is what were necessary.
Quietly she stalks across the floor, its translucent crystal tiles gleaming even in the wan light of the dimmed hall-lamps. There, on the nightstand she finds what she's looking for. The Element of Magic rises in the darkness. Her eyes glitter beneath the hood in the light of her aura, lending her a powerful minatory quality.
This seems an opportune moment, so I give the tiara a little push into the lamp. She's quick; her head jerks back in surprise, but even before it does, I can feel her aura pushing against my invisible touch. It's not enough, though, and with the clink of gold on crystal the lamp tumbles to the floor - and is caught at the last moment!
The look of confused anger on her face at the unexpected tug is replaced by breathless tension as Twilight shifts in her sleep. Then, it's my turn to be surprised, as another crown, floats from beneath her cloak. I'd told her what it looked like, to make it easier to find, but how could she have had another made on such short notice, or been able to match it so exactly?
As she turns to leave my mind is brought back to the task at hoof; it's now or never! Another spell shifts Spike in his sleep, tangling Sunset's legs in his tail. She trips, Twilight wakes, and with another invisible telekinetic touch, I push back her cloak enough to expose the crown in her saddlebags. “My crown! She's got my crown!” Twilight cries, and the chase is on!
Instantly, I reach through the walls and rouse the other ponies with a thought, while amplifying Twilight's shouts; now all the ponies are involved! I won't let them catch her – Rainbow Dash and Applejack in particular are likely to require my intervention - but I must ensure somepony sees her flee through the mirror, and I can not trust that any one pony will, not even Twilight.
Raised voices, heavy, rapid hoofsteps, and the myriad sounds of arcane energies thunder through the corridors as they gallop and teleport toward the mirror. Sunset is a fast runner, she always has been, and Twilight has never been athletic, but somehow, with a desperate lunge she manages to tackle the unicorn, and barrel her through the doors of the wunderkammer. I was paying too much attention to Rainbow and Applejack, and underestimated Twilight!
Oh, no, Twilight. No, I'm sorry, but I can't let it end like this. As they fall, I seize the crown from her saddlebag and bounce it from surface to surface. When I see every pony's eyes follow it, I send it with a last bounce, straight through the mirror. Sunset turns, victory scrawled across her perfect face.
“Sorry it had to be this way...” A soft bang as she teleports flawlessly from beneath Twilight's fore leg, to the mirror's threshold, and delivers a smirking salute. “...Princess.” My jaw drops as she passes through the mirror, and just like that, Sunset is gone, the Element of Magic with her.
I've often heard ponies invoke my name, but who does a goddess pray to? I can only hope I'm not making another terrible mistake.
Canterlot
c1300 years ago
My earth ponies are generally a wary lot. My pegai can fly from almost any danger, and their weight-altering magics mean that even without wings, they would need fear no fall. Their magical resistance to temperatures, which keeps them comfortable flitting through the thin, icy air among the cloud tops, also means they could march through open flames, the coldest tundra, and even be struck by lightning, and remain completely unscathed.
My unicorns are arcane generalists, even the weakest of whom can hurl darts and missiles. Some can call illusions, to send most potential threats fleeing in fear, while the truly powerful can summon the very emotion of terror itself, hold an antagonist fast in a magical grip, or raise them high in their aura, before letting them plummet to the ground.
But my earth ponies can do none of these things. They can't take to the sky en masse and rain stones from on high. Neither can they focus an entire village's telekinesis on a monster and literally tear it limb from limb. What they can do, however, what they excel at, is making things grow. Almost nothing can penetrate the thick hedges, and sprawling thorny tangles they erect around places they wish to protect, but these things do not move with a pony, a do her little good if she is not surrounded by them.
Despite the thick skins, powerful muscles, and sturdy bones of their bodies, and the preternatural strength and toughness their magic gives them, as a rule, they avoid high places whenever possible. This includes flight, and Luna was no different. Even after she earned her horn and wings, adding the unicorn's and pegai's innate magics to her own, it took some time before she finally followed me aloft. It took longer still before she learned to prefer her wings to her hooves, but once she did, her enthusiasm overcame her fear, and she would dive, giggling from the precipices of the highest anvil-topped cumulonimbus she could find.
She said the freedom was what she loved. That after spending her entire life bound to the ground, the ability to soar over it was a thrill like no other. Sometimes, I still envy her that; I have never been unable to fly, or subject to any limitations of my power or freedom, and though I have always enjoyed flying, the incredible emotions I could see on her face when those restrictions were lifted from her, made me, unflatteringly, jealous. Even now, centuries after she first took wing, she always wears a radiant smile here, among my clouds.
It's a beautiful thing to see as I soar behind her, and while the gusting, high-altitude winds are ameliorated somewhat in her wake, they still buffet my wings pleasantly. Even now, in the heart of summer it's as cold as the depths of winter this far above my world, and I find it invigorating. Oh, how I love to fly!
Below us, I can see our destination: the lone peak of Canterlot Mountain; for centuries Luna's favorite place in all Equus. If she isn't at our castle in the Everfree, she can usually be found here, frolicking on the broad meadow growing on Canterlot Rock - the huge plate of gneiss which juts over the sheer drop to the land below - or wandering the honeycomb of jeweled caves and passages within the mountain itself.
There are many of those; Canterlot was a mine in her youth, filled with the gems carried up from the bowels of my planet in the currents of magma welling in the volcano I remember it being before my ponies were even ponies. It's slopes and surrounding forests grew as thick in the fertile volcanic soil then as they do now, and there had been plans for farmer's orchards to join the miner's tunnels. But I was afraid Luna would loose her special place forever, so I'd ordered the mine, and its nascent settlement abandoned.
After she joined me in royalty, she finally dared tell me she'd regretted my decision, but had trusted her Princess to do what was best. I'd considered reopening it, but by then, however it was long deserted, and now, all these years later, we're the only ones who remember.
The air grows warmer as we descend, circling around the snowy peak to set down in the meadow's long grass. A waterfall cascades down from the glaciers, part of it pausing on its journey to the river below long enough to change a depression in the stone to a pond, before plummeting off the edge. I close my eyes and hold the beautiful image in my mind, opening my other senses to the world around me. A gentle breeze blows, ruffling my mane. Insects buzz softly in the flowers. Luna drinks from the crystal waters.
Peace.
Together we pass the day in the best of ways: talking and playing, supping on the tender grass, and bathing in the frigid water. Most ponies would have found it intolerably cold, running as it does straight from the ice on the peak, but Alicorns carry all the ponies magics, including pegai's, and the chill was merely pleasant.
As the time for night draws close, we make our way to the tip of Canterlot Rock. I lay prone with a contented smile, my head held high as I look out on my kingdom and sigh. “Surely there is no pony so lovely, or so well beloved as I.”
Luna laughs a little bit. “What a thing to say, sister.”
“There is no harm in telling the truth, little sister.”
“We sayeth not that it harms, we merely observe that,” - she ponders a moment - “modesty hath never been among thy virtues.” I say nothing. She's right, of course, but why should I be modest? Everything that is, including my ponies, as much as I love them, exists to serve me; I made them so.
Well, no, not just to serve me, not anymore, I think with a smile. Us!
At long last, my dream is fulfilled! A little filly with a penchant for sleeping through the day caught my notice when a crescent moon appeared on her flank. It's true that celestial cutie marks aren't unheard of on earth ponies, linked as they are to seasons and planting cycles, but her habits of stargazing, mapping my constellations, and writing stories about them hinted there might be more meaning behind it than that.
I watched from afar as she grew, impressed by the great fecundity her magic contributed to her family's fields – she truly was a remarkable farmer, even for an earth pony, especially for a filly - and by the kindness she was always eager to share. One day, I decided to take her under my wing. I taught her, trained her, and in time, proving just as deserving as I'd hoped she'd be, offered her the spark of divinity; it wasn't long before she blew it to flames and became an Alicorn. My very first! Dear Princess Luna, my sister from that day forth.
But while the world has changed around her, and she thinks she has learned so very much, it has in fact changed very little, and been a mere blink of an eye, as I measure things, since she was born. How much can one really learn in a mere few centuries? She is an immortal, but she is a young immortal, still callow, and full of the idealism of youth. She still confuses love with leniency, and does not demand the proper obeisance from my children. She even takes a puerile joy in using the antiquated speech patterns of her fillyhood, knowing perfectly well they have long since fallen out of use. “For fun,” she says. No matter; her affectations are quaint, but harmless, and in time, with my guidance, she'll learn the proper place of all of my creations: cradled lovingly beneath us.
In time, but not today, and why think of that now? After centuries of tutelage, I have finally deemed her worthy of not merely a title: Princess Luna, but responsibility: Luna, Princess of the Night. This is a time for celebration!
“You are much too quiet, sister. We haven't offended thee, have we?”
Now it's my turn to laugh! “No, you have not.”
“Good. We would not be pleased to have soured the mood.” A gorgeous smile spreads across her face. “We hath prepared a spectacle of such majesty! Thou inquired why we asked for thine accompaniment to Canterlot this morning; this is why! Thou knoweth Mount Canterlot is our favorite place in all the land, and we wish thou to savor with us from here, this first special night of our duties.”
I smile and lower the sun. “Show us, little sister.”
She closes her eyes as a soft glow envelopes her horn, casting our shadows on the rock. The moon rises, and her eyes open as she lays down beside me, but her aura never fades. “Keep watching the sky!” she says through a look of intense concentration.
From the empty left horizon to the right, where the moon sits, stars pop in to being, flashing silver, blue, and red out of the velvety blackness, then fading to steady twinkles. They are the only stars out tonight: a line of tiny gems leading from one side of the sky to the next. I wonder what she has planned?
As if in answer to my unasked question, shooting stars fall like rain; brilliant streaks sheeting together from left to right, but burning out as they reach the row of new stars so none fall below it. The sheets of streaking light plunge and mix together, and the shapes of gryphons, dragons, minotaurs, and of course, ponies coalesce from the blending sparkles. As old ones burn out, new ones fall just slightly out of their place, making the characters seem to march atop the line.
She's made a road! A road of stars with creatures dancing along it, given shape and semblance of life by the meteor's evanescence! I watch their progress from one side of the sky to the other with a smile on my face, recognizing it as a scene from one of the tales she wrote about my constellations. My sister truly is magnificent!
In her tale, the creatures of Equus, saddened by the moon's loneliness, march up to keep her company. Touched with their concern, she rewards them by turning the willing into stars, and giving them homes in her sky.
Just so tonight: the meteor-creatures vanish as they reach the moon, only for the original constellations they represent to flare brilliantly back into their proper place against the blackness. Eventually, when the last one has gone, the star road winks out, spark by spark, until the moon remains, shining with her new friends.
I nuzzle her, and lean more heavily. “That was beautiful, sister.”
“We are glad thou appreciated it. We wanted thee to know thy decision to grant us demesne over the night was a proper one.”
I lay my head atop her withers. “I had no doubts before, sister, now I doubt I ever will.”
“Huzzah!” she cries, only slightly louder than normal, then turns her head, and smiles, looking at me askance. “Our nights each shall be a paean to thee, dear sister, but as their beauty becomes known, thou will remember not to become too jealous.” I summon a mildly biting look in response, and stare into her eyes.
“Sorry it has to be this way, Princess, but the day will always outshine the night,” I giggle, and raise my snout to the sky, letting my pink tresses fall between us. A moment passes. Then two. Have I hurt her? I only intended a gentle chastisement.
At last she laughs, putting my worry to rest. “Just as we hath said: modest as the sun itself!” She shifts slightly, allowing her full weight to press against me, and we pass her beautiful night together, under her stars.
The Crystal Empire
Present Day
The thing about Twilight is, she's not my apprentice, and she never has been. Yes, she has been my personal student, and still is despite earning her wings. She's also the most talented magic user I've ever encountered in my long life. I love her dearly, but she isn't like me; she's like my sister, Luna.
Sunset, though is me. Younger, more reckless, less magically potent, to be sure, but so much like me in other ways, it borders on the incredible. Her confidence, and power; her bearing and wit; I see so much of myself in her, which is probably why I did it: gave her the seed before she was ready. She needed guidance, and temperance, yes, but I could teach her those. Surely she could not fail? I could not fail. Not again.
But I did.
Fortunately, I learned from my failure with her what I did not from Luna's, and was able to turn Twilight to the right path in time, but I am the sun, and my sister the night. Sunset, too is the sun, and Twilight the night: there must be both.
So here I wait, in the corridors of the Crystal Castle, cloaked in my most potent obfuscating magic. Not even my dear sister would be able to detect me. I've ordered the mirror moved to a room closer to Princess Twilight's – one of the wunderkammer in their guest wing - and sent the majority of the guard to watch a perimeter I knew Sunset would not need to breach.
Late into the night, after the lamp-crystals have been dimmed, and the guards have grown bored of their rounds, a flash of light through the keyholes tells me she's arrived. I watch her stealthily creep through the door, and follow her down the corridors. How easy it would be to catch her now! But no, she must be saved, so for the sake of one tragically lost little unicorn, and the hope of what she might one day become, a bit of my subtle magic turns a guard's head here, and brings the spark of another's own headlamp back to him out of the darkness, there, distracting him long enough to let her sneak past.
At last we arrive at Twilight's room. It's a normal guest room, as she refused to accept a royal suite in order to be with her friends, so the lock on the door is no match for a unicorn of Sunset's skill. No matter, I would have opened the seals of the royal vaults themselves for her, if that is what were necessary.
Quietly she stalks across the floor, its translucent crystal tiles gleaming even in the wan light of the dimmed hall-lamps. There, on the nightstand she finds what she's looking for. The Element of Magic rises in the darkness. Her eyes glitter beneath the hood in the light of her aura, lending her a powerful minatory quality.
This seems an opportune moment, so I give the tiara a little push into the lamp. She's quick; her head jerks back in surprise, but even before it does, I can feel her aura pushing against my invisible touch. It's not enough, though, and with the clink of gold on crystal the lamp tumbles to the floor - and is caught at the last moment!
The look of confused anger on her face at the unexpected tug is replaced by breathless tension as Twilight shifts in her sleep. Then, it's my turn to be surprised, as another crown, floats from beneath her cloak. I'd told her what it looked like, to make it easier to find, but how could she have had another made on such short notice, or been able to match it so exactly?
As she turns to leave my mind is brought back to the task at hoof; it's now or never! Another spell shifts Spike in his sleep, tangling Sunset's legs in his tail. She trips, Twilight wakes, and with another invisible telekinetic touch, I push back her cloak enough to expose the crown in her saddlebags. “My crown! She's got my crown!” Twilight cries, and the chase is on!
Instantly, I reach through the walls and rouse the other ponies with a thought, while amplifying Twilight's shouts; now all the ponies are involved! I won't let them catch her – Rainbow Dash and Applejack in particular are likely to require my intervention - but I must ensure somepony sees her flee through the mirror, and I can not trust that any one pony will, not even Twilight.
Raised voices, heavy, rapid hoofsteps, and the myriad sounds of arcane energies thunder through the corridors as they gallop and teleport toward the mirror. Sunset is a fast runner, she always has been, and Twilight has never been athletic, but somehow, with a desperate lunge she manages to tackle the unicorn, and barrel her through the doors of the wunderkammer. I was paying too much attention to Rainbow and Applejack, and underestimated Twilight!
Oh, no, Twilight. No, I'm sorry, but I can't let it end like this. As they fall, I seize the crown from her saddlebag and bounce it from surface to surface. When I see every pony's eyes follow it, I send it with a last bounce, straight through the mirror. Sunset turns, victory scrawled across her perfect face.
“Sorry it had to be this way...” A soft bang as she teleports flawlessly from beneath Twilight's fore leg, to the mirror's threshold, and delivers a smirking salute. “...Princess.” My jaw drops as she passes through the mirror, and just like that, Sunset is gone, the Element of Magic with her.
I've often heard ponies invoke my name, but who does a goddess pray to? I can only hope I'm not making another terrible mistake.
Don't hesitate to AM(A)A
The bigger you build the bonfire, the more darkness is revealed.
Every possession and every happiness is but lent by chance for an uncertain time, and may therefore be demanded back the next hour.
The bigger you build the bonfire, the more darkness is revealed.
Every possession and every happiness is but lent by chance for an uncertain time, and may therefore be demanded back the next hour.