“The….the First Signs didn’t exactly go as well as they were supposed to,” I admitted. Celestia’s brow rose in concern. “We won, obviously, but….” I trailed off. Celestia nodded sadly and looked off into the black, star-studded ether of space.

“How many?” she asked quietly.

“Eleven.” The number hung over us both like a dark cloud.

“Were you close to any of them? Personally, I mean?” I nodded.

“A few. Panamay, we were together in the First Dawn. Dalius, he was a friend of your Mother’s. Shesa, Felicia, Anise, I could go on.” Every name I uttered came with the sad realization that my brothers and sisters were gone forever, wiped from the Eternities.

A white wing extended over my own as my niece sat against me. I put my arm around her withers and pulled her close, just glad to have her safe. “After that, I needed to get some distance. Clear my head for what comes next. I needed to make sure you girls were safe, so I told everyone I was going to clean up Discord. If something happened to either of you, I have no doubt that I would Fall.”

Celestia started at my confession. I didn’t look at her, I couldn’t. As ashamed as I was, my words were true. I truly feared what I would do if my nieces ever came to true harm. Death is not the worst thing an Angel can experience; Falling from Grace is. It is to forsake what it is to Be, to take the gift given at Creation and twist it to loathing and despair and hatred.

To Fall is to truly know Hell.

My dark thoughts were ended by a weight on my shoulder. I turned my head just enough to see Celestia resting her cheek on my shoulder pauldron. “Don’t worry Uncle, Luna and I aren’t going anywhere.” The conviction in her voice reminded me of when she was just a filly, making grand decrees with all the certainty afforded by the innocence of youth.

I smiled and rested my head on her forehead. Her horn was a small inconvenience, but one I ignored.

“Would it cheer you up at all if I let you torment Chrysalis?” I perked up immediately.

“Define torment.” Celestia giggled.

“No physical harm or permanent psychological trauma. Other than that, I suppose I can look away from the Badlands for….three minutes.”

“Ten”

“Four”

“Eight”

“Five.”

“Deal.” Before Celestia could blink, I had already Feathered out.

Author's Notes:

This was the original way I had ended 'Chick Flick', but decided it just didn't work.