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The Steadfast Sky

by TheGreyPotter

Chapter 72: LXX : The Final Will

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The Steadfast Sky : The Final Will
The Grey Potter
http://www.fimfiction.net/story/11495/The-Steadfast-Sky
http://cosmicponyfiction.tumblr.com

~Discord~

Morning, again. Still raining, with a cold draft oozing off the windows. Candles and lamps were lit all around The Sanatorium, since, really, this early in the morning, the rain made it about as dark as midnight. Down below, soggy overnight travellers poked their snouts out of the grand double doors, wincing as the rain splattered their hooves. I wouldn’t be surprised if their carts were sucked up by the mud, impossibly stuck a foot deep in soil that just plain gave up at being solid.

“Seriously,” I said to Luna, watching the hesitant travellers in the lobby. “If this rain keeps up, there’s going to be floods.”

“The Pegasi will catch it before it gets too bad…” she said hesitantly. “Remember when it snowed? They stopped that pretty quick.”

“Stopping the rain isn’t up to the Pegasi,” I said.

Uncertainty written all over her face, Luna said, “I know.”

I let go of the railing and dropped back to the floor. With a small nod, Luna turned away, and we continued down the corridor.

We didn’t have far to go at all. Passing by our room, we headed straight to Celestia’s quiet door. And, with purpose, Luna raised her hoof and rapped twice.

“Celestia?” She called, “Are you up yet?”

We waited, ears straining. There was no response.

“Is she wants to sleep in,” I said, “Then let her sleep in.”

Luna shook her head. “I want to do this with her.” She spoke up, leaning close to the door, “We’re going to see if we can find the Element, big sister. We’d really appreciate your help!”

“She is sick, you know,” I pointed out, “She needs her time to… you know. Figure this out?

I turned to the door, trying to pretend she’s asleep, only imagining that Celestia was in her bed, wide awake, and moping. I wanted to say something. Just shout into the door, something like ‘Hey, I’d be cool if we were friends again. I’m okay with you.’ I didn’t want to shun Celestia. If she’s willing to reach out to me again, then I’m not going to beat her back out of some grudge. That’s a fact.

And yet… a guilty little part of me had different ideas. I wanted her to stay there. Sit and mope and leave Luna and me alone. Because it felt like I had precious few hours alone with Luna now. That Celestia’s mysterious illness was a timer, counting down the minutes until I couldn’t be by Luna’s side anymore. It possessed me all night, keeping me awake. If Celestia’s going to be there watching while I cuddle up close to her sister…

No, she wouldn’t put up with it, and I didn’t even want to get close to Luna while Celestia was there.

I placed a hand on Luna’s warm, fuzzy little shoulder, offering her a shrug. I just wanted to pull her into a hug, hold her until I couldn’t—

Dammit. I thought I was past this needy crap. Stupid. Dammit.

Eyes on the door, Luna said slowly, “She will need her rest…”

“Yes,” I asserted, “And see, the faster we find the Element, the faster we can help your sister, right?”

I’m not sure why I said that, but she nodded anyway. And that was enough to move her from in front of the door, and heading towards the staircase.

“Where do we even start?” Luna asked. “And what do we do if we find it?”

“Oh, I’ve got some ideas…”

~ ♥ ~

Morning rain pattered quietly against the window. The gray stones clattered as I sorted through them, gently pushing and turning them over with my hoof. Each of them is special, each of them has a purpose. Each of them are familiar. Old, old stones, these tools.

In my aura, I plucked out a flat one. Smooth on one side, and with ridges like gills on the other. My aura seeped around and through it, filling the mineral like it was air, or refractive water. It tugged, and breathed through the gills, magic shimmering, steamlike as it inhaled, then exhaled.

“You will feel a slight pull on your skin,” I said, “It will be a bit uncomfortable. But it won’t hurt.”

The small, bandaged stallion, just barely out of colthood , nodded into his pillow. His mothermare tapped his hoof with hers, lying them flat against eachother. Be brave, she implied, mother’s here.

Carefully, I pushed the stallion’s mane to one side. The gill rock drifted over, and tucked it on the reddened, damp skin of his exposed neck.

I saw the gills flutter, or perhaps I imagined it. Invisible shimmers of heat rolled through my aura, drifting upwards and away. If the stallion was a unicorn, the steam might have been faintly colored by his aura. But an Earth Pony… their magic, undefined and tucked inside of them so neatly—

I heard the paper rustle before it jerked and circled in front of my eyes. Held by a green aura and folded into a little set of wings, it dove upwards, drifted, and circled back down again in a jerky, attention getting motion.

The mother watched it, confused. “Healer…?”

“No worries,” I said, “I will finish your son’s treatment first.”

The paper darted through the clear steam, scattering it momentarily. The mare gave a little gasp of surprise, but I was quite used to ignoring Papercut’s messages by now. I've had perhaps half a dozen of them circle me at peak hours. It’s just a feature of the Sanatorium’s situation.

The gill rock’s steam began to thin. I placed the back of my ankle on the stallion’s forehead. Fever’s lowered, as expected. I let the rock vent for another few seconds, then pull it away, carefully returning it to the box.

I stood, turning to the mothermare, “I’ll repeat the treatment in a few hours, when we change the bandages. Give him plenty of water. His fever should break by tomorrow.”

She mumbled her thanks, and I’m quickly out the door, snatching the paper and reading it as I go.

Dozens and dozens of older messages are scrawled across the page, hastily written in cramped handwriting. The scrawling coats the paper, dozens and dozens of messages sent, received, crossed out, and repeated. I skim to the end of the document, new message nearly drifting off the bottom of the page.

I sighed, and made my way down the stairs.

“Redheart! Thank goodness!” Papercut called, “They’re currently in the library. I had Smiley go and talk to them, but, well, you might know the situation much better…!”

I shook my head, “Honestly, that Helios…”

“N-no, Redheart!” she asserted, “Just the pegasus and the, um, dragoner-qwist.” She fumbled with the word, clearly unsure if she had said it right. “Helios is still asleep, according to them.”

“Oh. Well,” I smiled faintly, “A whole family of people who don’t know how to sit still, aren’t they?”

She laughed lightly, and I continued onwards, crossing the entrance hall and making my way towards the east wing.

They really were frustrating, those two. A patient is a patient, you can be firm, but you must also be forgiving. Helios could hardly help what was happening to her body. She just needed a stiff push to keep her still.

But these two… coming in here. Babbling. Think they know better than the gods themselves! They’re still young, and ignorant! The God of Generosity knew his place better, knew what the hospital meant for the future!

They simply did not understand.

They did not.

I burst into the library, letting anger steel me, mustering every ounce of intimidating control I had. I had to impress on these youngsters exactly who was in charge here, and how little patience I had for their antics.

With a stomp of my hoof, I barked, “What do you two think you are doing?!”

The Pegasus and the little monster sat at a table, startled by my shout, but obviously not very surprised. In all honesty, it was pretty apparent exactly what they were doing. That is to say, nothing particularly destructive or damaging. They had removed a few of the dusty tomes from the shelves, but other than a few tracked footprints through the dust, everything seemed relatively undisturbed. Smiley stumbled over to me, hooves up in a shrug, as if to say, ‘I’m sorry, but you handle these situations better.’

Well… that much was true. I gave him a curt nod as I strode past, heading towards the children’s table.

“Oh,” the monster said, “Hello again.”

The Pegasus’ wings ruffled as she grinned widely, “We’re looking for Generosity, of course!”

“Not I not just tell you, not a half day ago, to stop looking?!” I snapped, standing tall.

“Nope. Sorry. This is more important,” the monster objected. “You’re preventing us from saving the country…”

“From helping Celestia too,” the Pegasus piped up, “If we had the Element, we could help cure her!”

“All Miss Helios needs to recover is her rest!” I retorted, “I will not give you the Element to satisfy your impatience!”

“Hey,” the monster yapped, frowning, “I almost mentioned country-saving, didn’t I? I did, right Luna?”

“Yep, you did,” she giggled, “I think she ignored you.”

“No, ‘she’ simply did not believe you,” I snapped, “If you are going to save the country, which I highly doubt, then you are going to have to do it without Generosity. Understand?”

“Uh, no,” the monster huffed, “We tried that once. Didn’t work. We really do need all the Elements.”

“Yes!” the Pegasus squeaked, “Please, this hospital is important to you, yes, but please try to understand…”

“No, you understand…!”

I stopped, sighing. They didn’t know at all. And if they did find Generosity, they would probably snatch it from us without a second thought. Really, what would stop them? Their own bloated sense of self-importance?

Save the country? Acting like they are just… entitled to the Element!

But perhaps, if they knew better. If they understood that my position was ordained by the true God of Generosity himself, while his mind was sane and whole…

So, I said, “You’re not going to stop until you know, aren’t you?”

“I said the fate of the country is depending on this twice,” the monster grunted, “Didn’t stop being a real reason.”

“Fine,” I said, “I’ll tell you why. Maybe then you’ll drop the idea altogether.”

I dragged over a bench and dropped down on it, making sure to keep the two within my sights. Both turned to me, but they wouldn’t stop exchanging silly little grins of triumph… Children. The both of them.

I looked past them. Up past the dusty stacks of books, out the rain-splattered window. Nearly closed my eyes, just trying to remember.

I may have waited too long to tell this story. At one point, it was so clear and crisp, I felt like I could recite the whole thing. Just go on and on and on.

Now I don’t know where to begin. Or even where to end. I could give you the plain and short of it. But would that allow you to understand? Would that cause your questions to cease? Or would it be the first excuse in a long, jumbled line of a sloppy story?

I doubt I have the time to tell them this. How long will it be until a tiny little paper bird flutters by, demanding my urgent attention? And honestly, even if I do tell the whole thing, I doubt it will stop their search.

“But please,” I speak up, finally shaking loose from my thoughts, “Just listen to reason.”

“Decades ago... Yes, this story is going to start from the beginning. So, decades ago, the land was under the rule of three noble alicorns. I’ve heard once, there were six, but I never knew them. I was born in the age of Magic, Kindness, and Generosity. Noble, pure spirits. Or so I had assumed...

“We’ll discuss that later, however. But I am going to tell you, here and now, that Generosity was the greatest of these three.

“He founded this hospital, as you may have guessed. It was a research center, it tended to all ills, attended to all wounds. It even served as something of an orphanage. Young fillies and colts whose parents had passed grew up alongside the children of the Healers, raised with dignity and care. Many of the foals were even granted, or took names that paid homage to their noble protector. I knew a filly named Shimmerheart, another colt named Warmheart.

“Well, you see, I was born here, raised here. Raised on the intent that I was to become a Healer. Or, was I being trained because I insisted so? Hm.

“Two things are for certain. One, I had not gotten my cutie mark yet. And two, that day, I was authorized to look around the labs.”

~ ♥ ~

So, I was in the library. Because that’s where a proper unicorn should spend her time. Studying and learning and figuring out how to float stuff, because that’s what makes a unicorn special. Floating things. I was reading and waiting for something special and epic to happen, something so inspiring that magic will just… poof! And then… ka-blam! Cutie mark. I pretty much knew it would have to be a Healer’s cutie mark. But I probably needed an inspiring moment to determine its color or something.

So I was reading. Gasping at stuff loudly when it surprised me, then spun around to see my butt, because, wow, so surprising, I bet that surprised my cutie mark into actually being a thing! I wasn’t having any luck with that, but I was close, I could feel it…!

But then, out of nowhere, an adult came up to me and asked, “Little Redheart, would you like to conme down to the labs with me?”

Holy crap.

I could’ve exploded.

The labs?! The secret labs where nobody but adults are allowed to go?! Where all the cool magic experiments happen, and where Generosity himself spent most of his time?

“Yes! Yes, please!”

So that day, I was brought through the gleaming white corridors. Through dozens of open doors, I saw unicorns, earth ponies, and even some Pegasi, all in super-neat white robes and pouring over dazzling baubles. Glass bottles were filled with colored potions, really complicated and delicate ornaments held aloft by faint, glittering auras. There were tons of books and papers spread out on every surface, and so many snouts were smudged with ink or chalk.

Only a few doors were barred, hung with thick cloth and warding ropes. Probably the creepy experiments, back behind those cloths. Or dead bodies. The morgue was down here, I think. Aw man. I remembered then, the dozens of spooky little stories Warmheart had blabbed at me. About all the creepy stuff they get up to down here. Like making… a skeleton monster!
Okay, maybe it was scarier when he told it at midnight on a stormy night.

My head was whirling around and around, trying to take it all in so I could blab all about it to the other kids. It was almost too much to take in! What did any of this stuff do? What did it mean?! And where the heck were they taking me?

I was lead past so many doors, maybe like, hundreds of doors, each one passing just so quick, I only got a glance of each one. I was so busy trying to make each glance last longer, that I didn’t even notice we had arrived. And that I was standing before Generosity Himself.

How can I even begin to describe this? I had seen Generosity before then. Rarely, but I had! Sometimes there were things only he could cure, and he’d come and perform a miracle upstairs. But then he’d come right back down and tuck himself away.

But today was the closest… I remember staring at him, and the Healer I was with chided me. Told me to bow my head, even went so far to place a hoof on my mane and turn my head manually. “Deference, Redheart! Staring at the sun will crisp your eyes!” But I couldn’t look away. I simply couldn’t.

He was tall. Long, and lean. Lilac coat, a purer color than I had ever seen on any flower. There was no fading, nor spots, with every hair falling near perfectly, into a silky sheen. His mane was ornate, curls immaculate, wreathlike as they twisted and bobbed into complicated, shimmering patterns. They were almost metallic, I remember that. Like cut and pressed sheets of some rare metal, turned and twisted into an unblemished sculpture.

Even his cutie mark… it was such a bizarre thing, so simple. Just a Healer’s mark? Just the cross and four hearts? I mean, it was a really really light white, which was a color I hadn’t seen before. But… a Healer’s mark? Maybe that it was the original Healer’s mark, and that everyone else was simply copying him. That made more sense.

He turned… and then I bowed, squeaking a little in my haste to be deferent. I stared at the curls of his fetlocks, still so strange and perfect as they twisted around his hooves.

And then, he said aloud,

“Look up, Daughter Redheart. No need to be shy!”

I stood stunned for a moment. Being called his daughter… well, we were all his sons and daughters. But to have my name be said… He knew it? He knew my name? With a jolt, I realized I was still bowing, probably more deeply than I ever had. I immediately looked up and…

This will sound stupid, but at that moment, I realized, he wore glasses! Just like me, he had a little pair of round spectacles, neatly set on his snout. It was so silly! Generosity was a perfect being, he shouldn’t have something to fix! Couldn’t he just magic his eyes better?

He and the Healer who brought me… I didn’t remember her name, but they spoke a moment in that tone that was completely unwelcoming to children, I’ve no idea what they said. But it didn’t last long at all. In a moment more, Generosity was leaning down to me, smiling warmly.

“Daughter Redheart,” he said, so kindly, “Do you think you can help me with a little project?”

I asked him, “How in the world could I help a god with anything? I’m just a filly!”

“You’re going to see if a little experiment of mine has worked,” he said, “I’m going to ask you to cast a couple spells. If you can, then that means everyone in the hospital will be helped. Alright?”

“Alright!”

I was encased in that bright, silvery aura of His, and absolutely frozen in awe and fear. To talk, to help, and to be lifted by Him… It was almost too much for me to comprehend!

Aw man.

Aw man, what if I really did explode?!

He lifted me, and brought me in front of…

Of something really, really pretty.

It was a bright, glowing red gem heart. Two gold bands rose up from the red setting, up to a simple metal cradle. Holding the gem in place were two silvery pendulums, curved like unicorn horns, each spiral lined with a pale liquid silver.

I asked Him, “What’s this?”

“It is my Element,” He simply replied.

Well. I had no clue what in Equestria an Element was. I mean, wasn’t He The Element? But I wasn’t going to question Him. If Generosity said it was his Element, then it’s His Element. That’s all I needed.

I nodded, “Okay.”

And He chuckled. “The Element is a very important tool, Redheart,” He explained, “It is a miraculous stone, which can cure and correct anything you can imagine. It can mend bones, lower fevers, banish disease, and even fix broken hearts.

“But, you know what makes me sad, Daughter Redheart?”

I shook my head furiously, staring into the heart of the red gem. He didn’t sound sad, but, maybe it was a noble, godlike sadness, or something.

“It can do all of those great things, and yet, only I can make it work! It’s quite a weakness, don’t you think? What if I’m not around to help someone? I could have cured them, but what if I couldn’t make it in time…”

I thought that was silly as well. Couldn’t a God be everywhere, be everything he needs to be, when and wherever he’s needed?

Yet, He said, “That’s where you’re going to help me, okay?”

“I can’t be everywhere either, god!” I cried, “You sure you didn’t mistake me for someone else?”

“No, no, I’m very sure you can help me!” He laughed again, chuckles making my spine tingle. “You, all your friends, and everyone here can, and do, help me so very much. Now here. Do you see this stone?”

I thought He meant the red gem, which, man, I wondered if maybe I shouldn’t have seen it? I had a moment of squirming panic before He floated over a little black pebble. He set it down on the counter, right in front of the mechanism.

“Yes,” still confused, I said, “Was it supposed to be invisible?”

“No, it’s not invisible! Please. Pick it up.” I did so, lifting it easily. I pulled it towards me, eyes wide as my purple aura mixed and sparked with Generosity’s silver. “Now. How about you hold it up to The Element?”

I drifted it over, careful to not touch the machine. But, to my surprise, my rock started glowing. Brighter and brighter, in my own purple aura!

“It works!” I declared, pulling the rock back. It stopped glowing, but it seemed to be made of a different material now. I could kind’ve see through it, the pale stone.

“Almost,” He said softly. “How about you try to fill that stone with your levitation spell, Daughter Redheart?”

I was confused at first… But it didn’t really take many tries to figure out what He was asking. It was like my aura was being dragged through, tucked inside. It began to glow, produced a warm radiance.

“There,” He said softly. “It works.”

“Good!” I squeaked, “But what is it doing?”

“Depending on what kind of rock and what shape it is, it might do a whole lot of things!” He explained, in a sort of… nobly… tired excitement. “Think of it as storing a little bit of The Element’s complicated makeup, right in that little bit of rock. A little bit of The Element that you can use, Daughter Redheart.”

He set me down, and smiled at me, still so tall and warm.

He said to me, “This is my gift to all of ponykind. Something this precious belongs to everyone, don’t you think?”

~ ♥ ~

“And that was his last gift to us,” I asserted, “I hardly knew at the time, but he gave us his soul. He gave us something so precious, so priceless. The ability to cure… anything! Treat it, mind everything, at the very least! We could take it from there. Explore all the possible configurations, carve our own totems, construct tools and power them with his last great gift.

“That’s what we would have done, you know. That’s what the researchers started, and what they should have completed.

“But, not three days later...”

~ ♥ ~

My friends were whispering. The staff, abuzz. Our God of Generosity had just stepped outside, to the back gardens. That wasn’t anything special, really, he comes and he goes, and sometimes the coming and going was to and from the garden. But he was staying out there a really really long time, and whenever he did much of anything, a rumor was bound to go flying all around. No wonder they equate rumors to birds, like, a little bird told me and stuff. They flutter and flit and their tweeting is like a song people actually listen to, because they’re hungry for pretty noises.

Well rumors are stupid when there are facts, and the fact was, I left the library. Yes, I was busy studying, but if nobody was going to go out there and just see what he was doing, then gosh darnit, I guess I’ll have to.

Marching boldly across the entrance hall and out the back door, I dropped down onto the even grass and squinted through my glasses. I couldn’t see him, but he could be behind a bush or something.

Carefully, quietly, I snuck around the hedges, peeking past each one, and, oh are you kidding me? Some giggling fillies were already out here! They’ve got primary access to information, and they’re not sharing it with anybody? They didn’t even have pen and paper to record events? This is their god they’re spying on, not some handsome and eligible colt!

I’m just glad I brought my portable desk around my neck. I felt practically naked without it.

I pushed a little further in and… I found him. I mean, I couldn’t mistake him. Such a glorious, perfect being, standing still and tall, eyes rooted to the sky above. He barely seemed to move. I don’t even think he had to breathe. He was like a statue, only movement coming from the breeze that lightly bobbed his metallic curls.

I settled down in the summer grass, breathing the warm, wet scent. Stalks itched and tickled my sides as I lay down. I had a perfect view, right under a little gap in the hedge. Not even the giggling girls had found it. Sure, there were a few branches here and there, but I was well-hidden, with enough space for my portable desk.

So, like a proper scholar, I popped the cork on my inkwell, trimmed my quill with a little pair of blunt scissors, made sure the scraper knife was set in plain sight, and waited patiently for Generosity himself to do whatever it was he was doing.

Which.

Turned out to be nothing?

I scribbled that down anyway. Described the scene. Described that he was stiff… but his hair was moving! His back was to me, so I couldn’t tell if his eyes were open… Oh, and the weather was nice, and I was spying from a bush… Oh, what else…

That was everything, I guess.

So.

Soooooo.

Hm.

Still nothing…?

I yawned, than slapped a hoof over my mouth. No, what if he heard?! But already, I felt myself nodding off, nose bobbing over the ink-stained page. How long had I been out here? Perhaps I should have brought a book? No, no, that would have been disrespectful!

But really, he is doing absolutely nothing.

I snapped up. I don’t know how long it was. Hours? Days? But at one point, I must have nodded off, because the next time I opened my eyes it was later in the afternoon, sky starting to turn dark and orange. There was a heavy sound in the air. A deep woosh-woosh, like a flock of massive hawks on the hunt…

I checked on my target, and thankfully or unthankfully, he still hadn’t done anything.

But then, two figures dropped in front of him. There were two loud thumps, thumpthunp! Dirt and grass went flying. Four massive wings fluttered and settled. Eight long legs buckled and straightened.

It was them! It was the other two gods! I scrambled for my pen, splattering ink in a large blot as it smacked the page. I repressed a small scream. No time to scrape the ink away, I rushed for another page—!

I looked up. I had never seen these two before! It was like…! I mean, holy cheese and crackers! One of them, he looked like he had descended from the sky itself. His mane was a portal to the stars, unlike anything I had ever seen. Like looking at the Milky Way in color, dabbles of bright, multicolor light scattered in a thick band, twinkling still as his mane flowed around his long, limber neck…

And the other! The other was like, like he had grown from the earth itself! His skin was the color of a loamy soil, and there were long stalks of grass, yes, it looked like thick bladed grass, just falling from his head! Some of the thinner stalks were braided, and some blades were thicker than a stallion’s flank, and I could hear it rustling as he moved, and oh my gosh! Oh goodness gapers!

I tried feverishly to scribble all this down, noting this, and that, and, and the expressions on their faces. Oh, but who was who?! Who was Kindness, and who was Magic…

“Pale!”

I looked up from the page. The loamy alicorn had said that, almost like, a desperate cry. He went forward, and he hugged Generosity, a gem on his neck glowing and glittering. And it was, well, it was an odd sort of hug, or I thought it was odd for gods to participate it. The loamy god stayed on his feet and pressed himself up to Generosity, pushing into his side, rubbing neck against neck. It was something I had only seen wedded couples do. Or mothermares with children, or long-lost siblings in heartfelt reunions.

Well, I guess it would make sense if they were related. The god certainly had a sad enough look on his face to be having a heartfelt reunion with a long-lost sibling.

“It’s good to see you too, B.B.,” Generosity laughed lightly, pushing back. “And Four-Clover. Glad you could make it.”

The sky god was silent and stoic, face incredibly stern and proper. Now it was almost like he had become a statue.

With a quiet squeak, I remembered I should be writing this all down! I scribbled shorthanded notes, scribbling as quick as I could on the page.

“You couldn’t have relayed to us your purpose?” the sky god huffed.

“I thought it might’ve been too impersonal,” Generosity said, “You’ve heard too much bad news in letters, Four-Clover. Maybe, for once, you should confront an issue outside the safe boundary of paper?”

“Jibes, in jest or not, are not appreciated,” sky-god replied. “What is your purpose in calling us here?”

“Do we need a purpose, more than to see our good friend?” The Earth God said.

Sky remained firm, looking down at Earth. Earth stared back with such an intensity… were they angry? Generosity rolled his shoulders. It was such a strange, weak action on a god. Something a pony less than him should be doing, not a god.

From behind, I saw Him smile.

“Well, I wanted to formally announce that I am stepping down,” Generosity said. “I just think it’s time. I’ve been feeling that pressure returning, and I would like to be set to my rest—“

“No!”

The loamy god shouted. He looked hurt.

“We’ve been doing well, Pale! We’ve found a way to win! We can keep ourselves going for years, hundreds of years! We’ve won against that darkness…”

“We havn’t, B.B. We gained a little ground. But… alone, in the dark, I still hear it. I still hear the ghost of my fears. Hear what took down Hurricane, Bookends, Jube” He turned to the sky god. “It was just like you said, Four-Clover. All we’ve done is treat a symptom.”

The sky god gave the slightest nod. “The disease of a mortal’s mind, it’s still inside all of us.”

The loamy god shook his mane, snorting in frustration, “The mortal mind is not a disease, Four-Clover, stop phrasing it like that!”

“I refuse. You need to begin accepting our position with more grace, God of Kindness.” He turned to Generosity, “I accept your path, and your terms of rest. I think it sets a great amount of precedent for those who may replace us, in the future, and I—“

“You’re going to help my friend commit suicide,” loamy Kindness shot. “That’s all this is. Just, giving up! Four-Clover. Can you just accept that? Just let all of your work end in failure?”

“Out of line.” Four-Clover, Magic, snapped. He didn’t even look at Kindness. Just kept staring ahead, face firm and stoic as ever. “I will not respond to jibes, friendly or otherwise.”

“This is a solution, B.B.,” Generosity asserted, “It neutralizes out powers, relinquishes the Element… New gods can be born! And they’ll have another fifty years to come up with something!”

Magic nodded, “Perhaps even a century, with the purification ritual we’ve discovered.”

“But we still have time to work now,” Kindness asserted, “On a solution for us.”

“We can struggle to find said solution,” Magic said, each word careful. “But if any of us fails, we can immediately watch the results, can’t we? We doesn’t even need to make an educated guess, let a couple more fall for the sake of study. We know what will happen.” He turned, glaring at Kindness. “And you are tarnishing the very fact that Generosity has decided to take the graceful way out!”

“But—“

“For ONCE!” Magic boomed, “Be silent about your petty, vain little feelings, and your inane babbling about friendship! I WILL NOT HEAR IT!”

My ears were ringing, in the silence. I shivered, cold and witless. A God… angry, shouting with such power and might… Even the other gods crumpled. Generosity flared and ruffled his feathers, Kindness scraping and stomping at the ground, expression strained.

“I guess we are doomed,” Kindness mumbled to his feet. “Can’t stand ten minutes next to each other, and we’re already at each other’s throats.”

Now he understands.” Magic huffed, turning to Generosity, “Generosity, you should have called me alone. Then, at the very least, we could have a rational discussion about this.”

Generosity gave a small smile, so strange and weak. “I felt like the matter needed both arguments, rational and emotional.”
Magic closed his eyes, expression returning to the neutral stoicism. Kindness gave a short, derisive laugh.

“Well, if you want my rational argument, since we’ve clearly heard enough of the emotional one.” There was a moment of silence, as if he was daring Kindness to interject. “I still agree with you Generosity, but I ask you to wait a little longer. We want to use this as an example to our successors, showing them the proper way to handle their corruption. A graceful retirement, in full ceremony. Perhaps not with a proper tomb but at least a pedestal to stand on while we construct you one…”

“It better be nicer than Jube’s.”

Magic took a long, slow breath out of his nose. “Yes, God of Kindness?

Your friends got wonderful, manned shrines, with proper traps and tricks,” Kindness shot, voice low. “My friend got stuffed in a hole, and left to rot.”

As I have already said!” Magic loudly growled, “The budget that year was—.”

“Please,” Generosity said, “The both of you. That’s enough.”

The God of Generosity said his words so softly, I wondered if they would have any power over the Sky and Earth Gods. And yet, Magic fell still, and Kindness soon after. Magic swiftly turned back to Generosity, but Kindness still glared at the sky god, feathers ruffling oh-so-slightly.

Then, Generosity said, “If it’s not clear enough from hearing you converse, it’s impossible to keep going. I’m sorry, B.B., but… that’s just how it has to be.”

“No…”

“We’ve failed. We’ve lasted as long as we could… a little bit longer than our natural lifespans, sure.” Generosity hung his head, voice steady, “But maybe that’s all the mortal mind can manage. Seventy summers, seventy winters… It’s a good number, don’t you think? Maybe we can set the precedent for term length too.” Generosity looked up at Magic. “Do you think a century might be too long?”

Magic jerked his head to the side. “Not if they can purify themselves from the beginning, no.”

“Paleheart, that’s just the nightmare talking, that’s all,” Kindness pleaded, “Please don’t give up. Please!”

They hugged again, Kindness’ gemstone setting glowing as they pressed into each other’s sides. Magic looked away, stoic expression twitching.

“I’ll talk with the Illuminators about term length,” Magic said, “As well as discuss successor eligibility. And yes, I will make sure we get ponies who are friends this time. You don’t even have to say a word, Kindness.”

“They’re just going to pick nobles again.” Kindness spat. “A bunch of them.”

Magic rolled his eyes. “Of course they will, Kindness, who else is more suited to run a government than people who actually know how a government works? Now Generosity.” He nodded to the god. “Collect your Element, and we will be off to Canterlot.”

“Ah…” Generosity hesitated, “There now, is the kicker…”

“What?” Magic demanded. “Have you lost it?”

“Better. I’ve given it away.” Generosity’s smile grew wider. And yet, it only seemed to get weaker. He raised a long, heavy wing towards the hospital, looking up at its windows with a calm reverence. “It belongs to the hospital now. To the ponies who need and deserve it’s healing most. It is my dying wish that it remain here and be studied, as long as the hospital stands as a beacon of research.”

Magic took a sharp breath through his snout, expression strangely unchanged. “A fine sentiment,” he said slowly, “However, we need it to continue the cycle. There are things the Elements can only do with six.”

“Perhaps a stronger bond between fewer friends can do just as much?” Generosity offered. “Or maybe the next batch can include another healer, something like a permanent constant?”

There was a moment’s silence. Light quickly vanishing, the long and large bodies of the gods became only a bit more than colored shadows, thick statues in the dark.

Then magic sighed. He turned, wings flaring, and began walking towards the hospital.

“I’m sorry. It will be decided after we have gathered the six.”

“Please!” Generosity cried, “It’s all I have to give! This represents the culmination of years’ worth of dedicated research! You can learn so much by leaving it where it is! We’ll know so much more!”

“We’ve already decided, Generosity. Our time is up,” Magic said as he walked. “Let’s allow the next generation to decide.”

“No! Wait just a moment…!”

The Gods marching off among the hedges, I tried to jump up, to follow and keep recording! But my legs were weak, numb from the stiffness of my position. And all my pages were splotchy, near unreadable… I’d have to keep working by aura-light if it kept getting darker and… oh, where was that inkwell cork…?!

“You ass,” Kindness barked.

There was a rustling of wings and hooves. I couldn’t see what was happening. Panicked, I looked around my desk for my quill, where had it gotten to?! Oh, did it even matter if I couldn’t see?

“Kindness…” Magic warned.

“You don’t get to pick and choose what you want to hear and what you don’t want to hear! Generosity is on his knees, begging you, and you’re just blowing him off like his opinion doesn’t matter?! Huh? HUH?!”

With a quiet squeak, I made a fateful decision. I abandoned my quill. I ducked under the hedge, tucked under the branches, desperate to see… The loamy god was marching with his teeth gritted, grassy mane billowing with every step. Magic stared at Kindness as he approached.

“You always do this!” Kindess barked, “That’s your problem isn’t it? Your Nightmare!”

And, Magic recoiled. His expression went strange. Wide-eyed. So unsuited to his narrow, stoic face.

“God of Kindness,” Magic snapped, “Cease your insults.”

“It is, isn’t it?!” Kindness yelled. “Your Nightmare is your own bloated sense of importance! Your need for power and control over everything! You have an ego the size of a mountain packed and rotting inside your head!”

“Cease!”

“I refuse!”

Kindness had gotten close enough to look directly into Magic’s wide eyes. A brown hoof jabbed into Magic’s blue breast, perfect coat mussed with dirt.

Kindness continued, “You don’t get to make all the decisions! Why can’t you let my friend have one thing? Or can your ego not handle—!“

Magic’s wings snapped open. He heaved into the air, eyes glowing, crown upon his head shining and swirling with energy pumped from his horn. There was a blast of light, and a frigid energy passed over me.

I was frozen, my skin pinching, like it was being coated in ice. I squeaked and shook myself, heard cracking, shattering, broken pottery. I slapped something hard from my eyes, and blinked them unstuck just in time to see Magic’s light vanish.

And the garden transformed.

Magic flapped in the air, jaws clenched, staring down at a courtyard coated in a pale rock. Chips of broken stone surrounded me, clung to my fur, dropping off leaves, making the grove tinkle like glass. Generosity…

Oh poor Generosity!

He sat peacefully, coated in that same pale rock. No, it was like he had turned into a statue, strangely perfect. In front of him, a wild stone Kindness, rearing up at an impossible angle, twisted expression frozen in one dark moment.

Magic landed in front of the two, stone chips crunching underfoot. He looked around, massive wings falling into place, expression drawn.

“Well… Yes,” he said aloud. “I can work with this.”

He turned, footsteps faintly crunching… Was he still going to take our Element? After all that? After… why did he blast them? Was he scared? I tried to stand up, to follow him… Maybe he’ll listen to a subject’s pleas? I don’t know. Maybe he’ll just turn me into stone as well. Maybe, maybe I should leave him alone. Maybe I could go, and break Generosity’s open…

Or maybe he—

There was a loud snap. Magic stopped.

The snapping and clattering continued.

I watched, stomach tight, as a crack snapped, zigzagging across Kindness’ stone face, following the snout in a clear line. A chunk fell away, bits bouncing and rolling down his neck. Under it, a contorted brown face and one ice-cold eye, glaring directly at Magic.

One half in stone, the other hissing steam of pure rage, Kindess screamed.

FOUR-CLOVER!

A leg busted through, shattering the fallen rocks. His body heaved, and the belly collapsed, smashing open as it smacked into the stone-coated grass.

I’LL KILL YOU!”

Magic yelped, and vanished in an explosion of light and sparks. Kindness roared, and struggled through the rest of the coating, beating and stomping it underhoof, wings flaring and casting up gusts. The trees and leaves cracked and shattered, like breaking china.

I couldn’t stay there, not one minute, and not one second. I tore myself from the straps of my desk, abandoning it as I fled into the hedges, legs pumping and grass flying behind me. I tried not to scream. Tried so hard as I panted and squealed for breath, a scared, scared little filly.

I heard him snort, I heard as he stopped stomping. One sentence, barked by the god, carried over my fleeing mane.

“Pale! Get up!”

And I heard nothing more.

~Discord~

“He stayed out there all night. I watched him, we all watched him from the windows, standing and circling and lying beside Generosity. Nobody dared approach, and nothing came from it. It was late at night, pitch black, before he opened his wings and flew away.”

“Magic never came to get the Element. Kindness, however. He came back. Oh. He came back.”

“He came back bathed in black smoke, and with dozens of Draconequus scrambling around him, and griffins in the air. They were grabbing Unicorns, Pegasi, stuffing them into black portals and ripping open those who opposed. I don’t know what he was planning, or why he attacked his friend’s hospital. But I only a few children survived. The Element hid me, Warmheart, and a few others from sight, even as dark claws grabbed at the scientists, tossing them about like rag dolls…”

She took a breath. Her face was hidden in her hooves, breathing ragged and voice cracked from her long, long story. I felt frozen in place, wings and legs stiff. My jaw was shut tight, and hell if I was going to say a word to that… I didn’t even look at Luna. I didn’t need to. I didn’t want to…

Inhaling sharply, Redheart resurfaced. Her hooves laid flat on the table as she slowly opened her eyes. Looking at me. At Luna.

“So,” she heaved, “Do you think you have any say, any claim over such a noble gift? That you can just march in here, head half-cocked, thinking you’ll just take away the last, most Generous deed Paleheart has ever committed? Do you think you’ve someone earned the right to steal from this hospital, from Him?

“We need it…” Luna mumbled, “Those miracles… to stop the Stallion—”

Redheart slammed down her hoof, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. “You’ve already got, what?!” she yelled, “Three or four baubles hanging around you! The gods did not need all six Elements to perform their miracles! Why should you need to take this one?”

“We can offer Healers, bits for equipment, repairs…”

“Oh, that’s generous!” Redheart scoffed, “Just buy off his gift, will you? Do you think that even comes close to what he did for us?”

I heard Luna inhale. I couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t say anything. She didn’t either. We both just sat there, staring and dumb.

“Then be done with it!” Redheart cried, “When your sister heals, LEAVE! I’ve wasted enough time talking to you! I have a hospital to run and people to cure, people I can ONLY CURE with the help of that Element! Do you understand?!”

“Yes,” Luna whispered.

“Good! Then. I will be leaving now.” She straightened herself out. Flattened her mane, leapt to her feet and stretched them out. Almost as an afterthought, she said, “Thank you for your understanding.”

And with that, she trotted out, around the corner, gone, leaving us both among the dusty tomes. Only then did Luna and I exchanged wordless glances.

Just…

The enormity of it. Knowing that Generosity had done such a thing. But also, knowing, finally, how the three had met their end… How the Stallion had transformed, and Magic… Magic just fleeing

“What do we even do now…?” Luna croaked.

I shook my head.

“Let’s just…” I mumbled, voice cracking from disuse. “This is something we all need to talk about, isn’t it? All of us, together.”

“Yes...” she mumbled. “I suppose so.”

The day wasn’t even half over, and yet, we found ourselves trudging our way up to our room. Where else were we supposed to go? Back out into the rain? Continue poking around the hospital? What would we even do if we found the Element? We needed Celestia to discuss anything else…

We were on the stairs when we heard the scream, a short screech coming from the second floor.

We looked at each other. “It’s a hospital,” I said, “Someone’s bound to be in pain…”

It came again, a screech for help. A door slammed open, and Redheart charged down the hall, wooden box bouncing through the air behind her, over towards the side where our room was. And…

“Celestia? Celestia!”

“Miss Helios!”

We reached the door just as Redheart popped it open, aura flashing.

Inside, Celestia was on the bed, pressed up against the wall. Her Element was on her head, actually sitting there, perfectly poised in her mane. For a confused second, I thought she looked too big, was too wide against the wall. But I realized, confused, she had wings now

Celestia shouted, “Help! Help! Oh my goodness oh my goodness…

Her hoof jabbed downwards. On the floor at the foot of the bed was a splattered pile of black, tarry muck. Wet and purplish, it wobbled freely. A little eye rolled across its body, bright and pink and just like Celestia’s.

My eyes darted between Celestia, the blob. She seemed to have both eyes, then what—

There was a high pitched hum, and a crystal shot from Redheart’s aura, streaking two lines of purple as it flew. It circled the blob, skipping off the ground, tumbling and wobbling as it tried to get as close as possible. The little pink eye followed it, and the ooze heaved, like it was breathing.

“You two!” Redheart snapped. “There’s a supply closet at the end of the hall” she yanked her head to one side. “Go in there and grab a bucket!”

“Yes!” Luna squeaked.

I stayed, staring at the blob, and the rock encircling it, spinning and scraping like a top.

I didn’t want to believe it. It couldn’t be…

“What is that?” I asked.

“Smooze,” Redheart replied, teeth gritted, “And a generous amount, of it!”

“No!” I yapped, confused, “Where’d it come from?”

“Oh goodness, oh sweet sun and moon,” Celestia groaned. She settled down on her bed, and I stared, just stared. Her coat, it seemed cleaner now, a pure, pink-white. Her wings seemed awkward, spread out beside her at strange angles, twitching and flailing in surprise. Already, I could see little feathers cling to the wood behind her, bending as the limbs smacked into the walls. And her mane! It was mixing and swirling before, but now… it had resolved, or had seemed two. Fopur clean, even band of color pushed and pulled against each other, tugging the hair along with it…

“That was inside of me…” Celestia hiccupped, pointing at the black blob. “I was just, I finally thought I found it attached inside of me, and, Negativity, she was fighting me. But Nobility and, well, Generosity… Not the Element, mind, but I did use Loyalty to help. And then I just, just threw it all up…”

“That… what?!” I cried, “What the hell, Celestia, did you eat it or something?!”

“No! No, It was an infection!” Celestia squeaked.

“A terrible one,” Redheart asserted, staring down at the blob, and the stone circling it. “You’re lucky to still be alive.”

“What?!” Celestia screeched, “You said that I could fight it off! That it would go away naturally!”

“I didn’t know it was this bad. This amount should have put you in a coma. But…”

Redheart looked up, and suddenly, she looked so sad. The gemstone tripped and spun, clattering and rolling to a halt. Immediately, she returned her attention to it.

Redheart said, “I suppose I didn’t take your divinity into account. My mistake.”

“Bucket!” Luna cried, bouncing off the doorframe as she raced in, handle held in her mouth.

Redheart immediately snatched at the container and slammed it down on the captivated Smooze. There was a moment of quiet, stone’s humming gone as it spun out of control and bounced off a corner.

Firmly, without hesitation, Redheart walked towards the bucket. Her aura encased it, but something was wrong. The bottom of the aura almost seemed to flicker and fade, like invisible flames were eating at it. There was a sudden yank on the bucket, and Redheart upturned the muck, scraping it off the floor. Three black streaks clung to the floorboards, and snapped wetly as Redheart yanked the bucket skyward. The appendages flailed, curling and uncurling wetly, slowly collecting back together.

Contorted frown on her face, Redheart asked coldly, “Do any of you have a hankerchief?”

We all looked at each other, dumbfounded. Eventually, I summoned a little rag, and Redheart stared at me critically as I moved to pluck up the tentacles.

They were frigid, quickly searing and melting the illusionary cloth. Trying to grab at the pieces, my illusion quickly became a large bundle of half-realized cloth, quickly vanishing as I scooped up the bits and tossed them in the bucket as well.

I backed off. While I had cleaned, Luna had snuck by me, and was in a close, whispered conversation with her sister. I caught a few snippets, “Thank goodness, thank the stars in the sky…” “I knew I just had to do this alone…” “…was so worried…!”

While they talked, Redheart collected her fallen rock, scooped up the bucket and wooden box in her aura. She turned to all of us.

“Your sister is cured,” Redheart said with finality. “Now pack your things and depart from my hospital at once.”

Next Chapter: LXXI : Luna Estimated time remaining: 3 Hours, 2 Minutes
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