“Aid your brother, whether he is the oppressed or the oppressor,” the Prophet taught.

“How is the oppressor to be aided?” a follower asked him.

“By stopping him from oppressing.”

-From the Sahih al-Bukhari

It was… a nice dream, Star Swirl decided. Arrogant, perhaps, but certainly a dream worth defending. The notion so many ponies held that they were better than the other races. Maybe not stronger or smarter, but kinder, gentler, and possessed of a peaceful nature. For centuries they believed it to be so, and for centuries they’d seen no evidence to the contrary.

He was a student of history, and well knew the violence in their tribal past. And he considered himself a hard cynic, capable of distilling even the most wondrous magic into a cold science. But even Star Swirl had let himself believe that the worst days were far behind them.

The little hill he was on gave a grim view of the plains below. A battlefield, and a victorious one at that. But it was the end of more than a battle, or lives, or even the innocence of the present era. It was the end of that dream. A tangle of bodies where ponies had, just like in ages past, hurled themselves to bloody violence against each other.

A half-dozen Lifeguard surrounded him – unicorns with rapiers and cocked flintlocks, looking fearfully to the sky. The rebels loved their airborne ambushes. Especially nighttime ones, and it’s been…

“It’s been… hm, Fleur?” Star Swirl called, adjusting his trademark conical hat. “How many days has the night lasted?”

Ignoring the illogic of the question, the chief Lifeguard tilted his head and sniffed. “‘Fleur-De-Ancienne,’ if you please. I’m still a noble, even if I am your bodyguard. And it’s ten. Ten days since we’ve seen the sun.”

“Ten days,” Star Swirl echoed, eyes going back to the killing grounds.

The white unicorn nodded. “Oui. Now can we please depart? You are very exposed up here.”

“Fine, fine.” Grumbling, the wizard began following his bodyguards down the slope. “I had to see it. Hell’s Teeth, they’d all be alive if we had just fled when we saw they wouldn’t talk.”

Fleur glanced back at Star Swirl, eyebrows raised. “But we won. There was loss, but so it goes when evil is defied. Do not blame yourself for the cost.”

Another grumble from the aging wizard. “Oh, I don’t blame myself. I blame her.”

“Ah, yes. Luna will have much to answer for.” The Lifeguard nodded, then resumed craning his neck skyward.

Star Swirl hesitated a step, pawing the ground before continuing. “Not just Luna.”

“Pardon?”

Fleur turned, and his charge’s horn was already igniting. The bodyguard cried in alarm as a portal opened in front of Star Swirl, and he calmly walked through it.

“What are you doing?!”

Star Swirl glanced back from the other side, inky blackness all around him. “Something that I should have done ten days ago.”

The Lifeguard groaned in exasperation, all decorum disintegrating. “Wizard, I am your bodyguard! You can’t keep ditching me like–”

The portal closed. Star Swirl allowed himself a single, humored smile before turning to the task at hoof.

Teleportation was child’s play for him, especially for a place he frequented so often. He closed his eyes. It only worked if you closed your eyes and thought of the place. How the ground feels under the hooves, and how the air smells in the nose.

Plush royal carpeting. Sound muffled by high walls. Smells of refinement, yet with a pine-needle scent creeping in from the forest around.

Star Swirl squinted his eyes open, accustomed to the light blinding him after teleporting here. Even at night, the sisters’ palace was normally well-lit for Luna’s empty court.

Not this time, though. Star Swirl opened his eyes to an empty palace. The servants and nobles were gone: off to war, or simply fled. The only light came through windows from the stars above.

He appeared in the foyer – utterly deserted. Fumbling in the dark, he entered the parlor, then the banquet hall. Empty, and empty.

The throne room was empty too, but at least the ever-torches were still lit. Star Swirl sighed and took off his hat, stopping to scratch the greying mane.

“All that trouble and she’s not even here?” he gave a short laugh. “Fleur’s gonna kill me himself.”

In the kitchen, though, he found a guard eating by lantern light. Too old and infirm to run off with the rest, she had stayed behind to keep her own vigil.

At Star Swirl’s question, she pointed a hoof.

“Celestia’s in her room,” the old mare said. “Hasn’t opened the door for three days, the poor dear.”

Star Swirl thanked her and tipped his hat low, hoping she didn’t see the twitch that came to his face.

Walking once more into the throne room, he voiced the thoughts. “She’s the ‘poor dear?’”

This time, he marched past the thrones to the back rooms. The princesses kept the door to their living space locked, so he battered it down with a quick spell.

He’d never actually been back here, but Celestia’s room was easy enough to find. It was the only one with light creeping from under the door.

He raised a solid, chipped hoof and knocked twice.

“Luna?!” The desperate, hopeful voice emerged.

Star Swirl sighed and looked down. This wasn’t going to be easy. “No, Princess. It’s me.”

Yellow magic gripped the door and it swung inwards. Star Swirl stepped inside, squinting against the light.

On a sun-decaled carpet stood Princess Celestia. Her eyes were wide with stewing fear, and bloodshot from exhaustion. Ink was smudged on her hooves and white feathers. Her hair, oddly, was more vibrant than ever – whipping to the side as if caught by a harsh wind.

Star Swirl held another sigh in his throat. He couldn’t afford to pity her.

“Well, if it isn’t the Bearded One,” she said sweetly, indulging in his nickname. A wan smile was offered, but a second later it was gone.

“Princess…”

He trailed off, the sigh escaping from him. His words held glum resignation. “What are you doing?”

“Me? Oh-oh!” Celestia tutted and floated a parchment over to him. “Read this and tell me what you think.”

She held it expectantly in the air. Star Swirl eyed the scroll, but didn’t reach his own magic to accept. The resignation had left, his voice returning to its rough edge. “What’s this?”

“It’s a letter to Luna!” Celestia giggled, out of nerves more than humor. “Oh, I just know that if I can phrase it right she’ll come back and–”

“Haven’t you already sent letters?”

The words gave a brief pause to both of them. Celestia was not used to being interrupted, and Star Swirl hadn’t intended to. But it happened, and he honestly wasn’t sorry.

Celestia was the first to resume, her smile growing more nervous, more pained. “Yes, but I think I got them wrong! I made the letters all about the need to raise the sun, not her own needs!”

“Princess…”

Celestia paced away from him, levitating three more half-finished letters around her. “And I can’t help but wonder if she wants things to go back to normal, but thinks it’s too late! I need to show that I still love her!”

It was sad to watch. Star Swirl breathed in slowly, and out even more so. “Princess.”

He could have left and she wouldn’t have noticed. Running out of room to pace, Celestia turned in a quick circle. Twitching and talking excitedly to herself, she knocked over a vial of ink. It crashed open on the priceless carpet, and she didn’t even blink.

“I know she’s mad at me, and here’s the thing: I want to end the night, but I don’t want to ‘big sister’ her into doing it. I want it to be her decision.”

Enough wasting time. Star Swirl growled. “She’s already decided, Princess!”

The response was a panicked whine that set his teeth on edge. “But she might change her mind!”

Star Swirl breathed out sharply. This was it. No going back after this.

His words came out with the bitterness that had been building in him all week. “You have no idea what’s going on, do you?”

That caught her attention. Celestia turned to regard him, blinking owlishly, not certain she had heard right. Foes had despised her, Luna had teased her, and nobles gossiped as they were wont to do… but none had ever insulted her to her face.

Nothing for Star Swirl to do but press forward. “Ten days.”

She cocked a head. “Ten days?”

The ignorance touched a nerve in him. “Do you really not know?” he snapped. “Ten days of night! Ten days since your sister went insane!”

“Don’t talk about her that way!” Celestia shot back. She looked away, worry in her eyes. “She’s just… having an episode.”

Star Swirl gave another hard sigh. “I’m going to say it again, because I guess I need to.”

He licked his dry lips and looked back at her. “You have no idea what’s going on, do you?”

His voice had lost its heat, but was no kinder for it. Accusation seeped into every word. “You’ve been here. Writing letters.”

Celestia said nothing. She just stood there, looking back at him with incomprehension.

“I’m sorry,” Star Swirl offered, and cursed himself. He had to be hard. He gestured with his horn, back out the doorway. “You need to come with me.”

Celestia was scared.

Not of Star Swirl personally, of course. But of what he had to say. She had to force herself to follow him, conscious of each step.

She’d spent the last two weeks being scared, so maybe she was just letting herself be bullied. Maybe his anger and bizarre defiance would just lead to a big anti-climax.

A quick, nervous laugh came from her throat. Maybe this was a prank! Yes, this was just Luna coming off her latest mood swing. She knew she had overreacted at the New Year’s Celebration. So Luna had pulled this stunt with the moon, drafted Star Swirl, and was leading Celestia to the party!

It wasn’t true, and she knew it in her heart. But playing pretend distracted her, and made it easier to follow in his wake.

Lost in her thoughts, Celestia startled as something brushed her hoof. Grass. They were out of the forest.

She cast her gaze about, but there were few clues. The airborne princess had never bothered learning to navigate on the ground, and the heavens were a jumble of misplaced stars.

Celestia eyed the too-large moon, giving a tut. Luna would have a lot of cleaning up to do.

“How much further?” she asked.

Star Swirl gave a sidelong glance, then dropped back to walk level with her. His eyes, though, turned away.

The tone was almost casual, yet the words were anything but. “Did you know we’re in a civil war, Princess?”

She caught her breath. Panic rose, and fell just as quickly. A smile snuck its way onto her face.

“I rather think somepony would have told me,” she said primly.

“Have you been keeping up with your mail?” The wizard shot back. “Or left your room?”

Another first: Celesia snapping at him. “I’ve been busy!” She snarled, ending the calm illusion. “And more than tolerant of your impudence.”

“‘Civil war?’” She went on, raising her nose. “Don’t be ridiculous. What are the factions? Are the pegasi seceding? Or perhaps you’re implying that my sister’s guards are raising arms against us?”

It was at that moment that she stumbled, giving an undignified yelp. Something hard and sharp had caught her hoof. A hollow clank sounded at the contact.

Celestia raised the offending object with her magic, peering closely. It was a light purple helmet, oversized to guard most of the neck. A sharp metal frill ran along its top, darker color than the rest.

She’d seen helmets like this a thousand times. The Lunar Guard.

No blood. She shook her head. This meant nothing. It had fallen from a sky chariot, or was a weak prop for Luna’s prank.

Star Swirl waited until she was done with it, offering no word of argument of explanation.

“Come,” he said when she set down the helm. “Just over this hill.”

She swallowed hard, hesitating a long second before following. He was about to prove her wrong. This wasn’t a prank, or a misunderstanding, or even another of Luna’s mood swings. However little sense it made, this was worse.

Star Swirl was about to show her just how much worse it was, and it took every scrap of the young alicorn’s will to follow him those last few steps.

It came into view as she slowly crested the hill. Celestia didn’t scream, or cry, or look away.

She just looked. Silently, not even with a sigh.

Conflict wasn’t a stranger to her, but it had been a blissfully long time since she gazed upon a battlefield. Sad clumps of foes, clustered together in death wherever the fast-moving platoons had clashed. Here, a crashed sky chariot, its last victims crushed beneath it. There, the earth ripped asunder by arcane force, with only pieces left from those who stood there.

Years ago, it was her ponies against the crystal strangers. Clear battle lines, clear victories and defeats. Here, it could scarcely be judged who fell on which side. Some wore gold or deep blue, but others had on regional colors. She recognized red uniforms from Vanhoover, and a broken standard bearing the Flower of Prance. But no sign of who they stood with.

Broken lances. Split helms. Tattered, abandoned banners and bullet-rent shields. And every now-cool corpse, a pony.

Her subjects. Every one of them.

Celestia took a deep breath to steel herself, but it came in a ragged gasp. She breathed in and out quickly a few times, digesting the scene.

Then, very slowly, she bowed her head. Not towards the fallen, but tilting it away from them. It had been… more than one century, but less than two since the war. Years of parties and gossip. Exploration, productivity, and fun. Maybe not as fun as the first years, before Luna started having her moods. But still they were good years, for her and everypony else.

And now, the good years were over.

There was one more thread of hope. Maybe, at the very least, this wasn’t Luna’s doing. A mad noble, or some cult infiltrating the royal guards.

“I can’t tell the sides,” she said in a whisper.

Star Swirl had been silent during her introspection, but offered the truth without ceremony. “Us against your sister.” Then a snort. “Eternal night is worth fighting against, with or without your help.”

“Don’t be silly,” Celestia sneered and raised her nose, desperately turning to arrogance. “Who would follow something like that? Even her own guards eat hay grown in the sunshine.”

“Lots of reasons… hm.” Star Swirl paused, and tilted his head forwards. “Walk with me while we talk.”

He began stepping down the hill, towards the battlefield. Celestia watched him walk, for the first time noticing how hobbled he seemed. Though middle-aged, his back swayed like an old horse. His shoulders were slumped, and his voluminous cape sagged across his back.

Celestia had been about to protest, already plenty convinced by viewing the field from above. But watching him walk… no, she could do this. She took a last deep breath, squaring her nerve, and strode slowly after him.

He didn’t say a word until they began walking through the field itself. Celestia kept her breathing shallow. Her perfume warred with the stench of death around them, and the mixture was nauseating. She raised her eyes, unwilling to look down.

It took only three seconds for her to stumble, nearly pitching over before catching herself. The frilled helm of a pegasus hussar, its owner likely the one lying a few paces away. Celestia gingerly stepped around the corpse and looked up once more. She tripped again, this time over a cracked shield bearing the Raven of Baltimare.

Resigned to it, Celestia turned her gaze to the ground.

She gasped as two brilliant gold orbs stared back at her. A batpony, lying with a ragged wound in his chest. He was looking at her, still alive! She could at least…

…No, not still alive. Just dead eyes, staring. Celestia shivered and moved past.

She almost missed it when Star Swirl spoke again. “Lots of reasons why ponies threw in with Luna. None of them good, if you ask me. Some are soldiers just following orders, with the bad luck to be in her half of the army. Some think themselves downtrodden, and want a change, any change. Others are opportunists. They think this ‘eternal night’ thing is just part of a power play, and they want to be on the winning side.”

“Is she winning?” Celestia called, several steps behind him.

“I dunno,” he called back, pausing to let her catch up. “It used to be half day, half night. Now it’s all night. What are they supposed to think?”

He looked right back at her, and Celestia looked away. Star Swirl grimaced and resumed his stride. “Some of them are getting religious about it. They think the night is a sign that Luna’s somehow turned from an alicorn into… a god, I guess.”

Celestia shivered again, this time recalling the Sombra-worshippers. Could such a thing take root here? Not crystal ponies from a foreign land, but her own little ponies? Chanting, praising, and plunging headlong into death for the sake of a make-believe god?

I’d die first. The thought hit her. The first real thought that desperate measures might be needed.

“And she’s allowing this?” There was hurt in Celestia’s voice. That Luna would welcome such attention… what happened to her?

Star Swirl let a few seconds pass before answering, bracing himself for the words. “The Lunar Guard seized Baltimare before anypony knew what was happening. Luna gave a tirade above the central square, declaring herself queen. The last words were…”

He glanced back, eyeing her response. “‘Say my name when you pray.’”

Celestia was silent, but a twinge came to her face. A bit of her old, imperious anger was resurfacing.

But it fell just as quickly, and her nervousness resumed. “Where is she now?”

“Luna doesn’t give me her schedule,” Star Swirl grunted. “She wasn’t here, that much I know. Prisoners said they were acting on her orders, trying to make a quick march on the castle. Duchess Blueblood and I grabbed who we could and threw it in their way.”

Celestia looked off vaguely, thoughts more towards Luna than the wizard. She gave him a distracted smile. “The lack of Lunar Guard in my home seems to indicate you won.”

“Right here,” Star Swirl gestured. Rather than clumps of skirmishers, the ground he pointed to was carpeted with bodies. All shoulder to shoulder, friends and foes twisted around each other in what had been a bitter struggle. Most of them wore the gold plate of the Day Guard, though scores of their enemies lay mingled with them.

“They beat us everywhere,” he said, looking out with old eyes. “Most of the provincial troops just ran when they saw the owlbears. The duchess took what was left and held out here, screening the rout long enough for me to pull them back together. We counter-charged just as her line was about to break, and swept them from the field.”

Celestia nodded. “The younger Duchess Blueblood, you mean? Scrappy little wisp of a thing?”

“That’s the one.”

“I’ll reward her when next we meet.”

Star Swirl gave her another glance. “It’d be posthumous.”

The princess blinked. She barely knew the duchess, but to hear of her death…

“Oh,” she said lamely.

Silence fell, the pair gazing out to the scene around them. It ended quickly, before Celestia could rally her thoughts.

“She said…” using his magic, Star Swirl lifted an object from the mess – a metal shield, embossed with a golden sun. He studied it intently, chewing over the next words. “The survivors tell me she kept shouting to them, ‘We are Celestians! We believe in the Right, and the Sun, and Celestia! We are Celestians, and we don’t fail!’”

He held up the shield, giving Celestia a full view of it.

And he dropped it to the ground. His tone grew hard once more, open anger coming to his face. “I wonder what she would have said if she knew. About you locking yourself in your room while the kingdom fell apart, writing letters.”

“I…” Celestia shook her head, hesitating, looking away. “I wanted to stop Luna before things got out of control.”

“Things are out of control!” Star Swirl returned, a note of pleading creeping into his voice.

“Fine. I need to talk with her, then.”

Star Swirl huffed, his temper rising. “And how much time will that take? Princess, it’s been ten days! Every day-night that passes, more crops die, and more ponies kneel to Luna. Not only that, every monster you can imagine are attacking the towns, thinking it’s open season on us.”

“Well what else am I going to do?” Celestia snapped back.

“Fight her!”

Celestia’s hoof came down, eliciting a noise like a thunderbolt. “Fight Luna? Star Swirl, she’s my sister! How we deal with this is between me and her.”

The wizard let out a sharp breath. He slowly lowered his head – not in submission, but aggression. His voice was lower, but all the angrier. “You alicorns sure have nice problems.”

His princess blinked, still guarded, but confused by the words. Star Swirl went on, bitterness dripping from his voice. “You doing nothing will mean more battles, more hunger, more monsters, and all that equaling a hell of a lot of dead ponies. But hey, all that’s nothing compared to sisterly love.”

He flared his hoof out with sudden violence, sweeping it across the carnage. “How many of them were sisters?! Brothers?! And lost it all–”

The hoof came around and pushed Celestia none-too gently on the chest. Their gazes met, and they could see tears in each other’s eyes. “–For you!”

“It’s not…” Star Swirl gasped and sighed, voice cracking. He looked away, swallowing hard before turning back. The anger was gone from his eyes and voice, replaced by a desperate edge.

“It’s not about… you.” He managed, very softly. “It was never about you, or Luna. It’s not even about these poor souls. It’s about the ponies, the ones still alive. The ones you can still do something for.”

“Princess, they need you to be the leader you need to be. It’s hard, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for shouting, and I’m sorry for what you have to do. But there’s no choice.”

Celestia felt her own defensiveness leaking away. Star Swirl was yet young, far younger than she. But he was so old at the same time. His grey-maned head bowed, beard limp upon his chin.

She closed her eyes, trying to focus. ‘No choice.’ Was it true? The idea of fighting Luna horrified her. But Star Swirl wasn’t wrong. She’d been idle too long. Blind for too long.

‘Blind…’

Luna… what’s wrong with you? What did I miss?

A sigh escaped her lips. She breathed in deeply, taking in the iron and spoiled-milk scent of the death around her.

Smell it, she commanded herself. Feel the taste on your tongue. These are your ponies.

Celestia closed her eyes and smelled again. There was the acrid smell of magic, and feces mingled with the blood and bodies. Don’t run. Don’t hide.

Take responsibility, you useless peacock.

It was odd, but she drew resolve from the self-insult. A third, willful sniff of the air.

They died for her, despite herself. They deserved better. Ponies with the hearts of lions, fighting for a fool liege. She didn’t deserve their loyalty.

But she would. At least, she would try.

Her eyes opened. “Star Swirl.” Celestia’s voice was hoarse, and barely above a whisper. But, unmistakably, it carried the strength of command.

“Your words are not untrue. But they lack a means. You want me to fight her. To what end?”

“Crush her power?” He suggested, then haltingly added, “Or… if there’s no choice…”

“‘Kill her.’” Celestia finished for him, though was unable to hide the waver in her own voice.

“Was that what you were going to say?” She looked to him, and this time it was Star Swirl who looked away. He shuffled his hooves, not quite willing to voice confirmation.

Celestia turned her own gaze to the moon – out of place, and far too large. “Do you think I can?”

“You tell me,” he grumbled.

“I cannot.” She let the words hang a second before continuing. “Alicorns don’t die. Not normally, not unless we accept it. I could crush her body, but if she wanted to come back, her spirit would grow a new one.”

“And I can’t simply ‘drain’ her, or anything like that.” She gave him a wry smile. “To quote a learned pony: ‘Unless the process is voluntary, magical beings are inseparable from their magic.’ Chapter four, ‘Magic and Life,’ by Star Swirl the Bearded.”

The humor died, and she glanced away once more. “So. Even accepting that you’re right, what do we do? Until either Celestia or Luna chooses to move on, Equestria is stuck with both of us.”

Star Swirl gave it a moment before responding. He knew the answer. But he had her attention. No need to press it too hard.

He stroked his beard, approaching the issue cautiously. “You and your sister have fought invincible beings before, and won.”

A glance was shared, and Star Swirl went on. “Discord. You didn’t kill him, but bind him. With the Elements of Harmony.”

Celestia tapped a hoof, saying nothing.

The Elements. A powerful tool, but one shrouded in mystery. She didn’t know much about them, and Star Swirl’s studies had yielded nothing. They were far older than her, and held a magic that escaped definition. A power that harnessed feeling instead of thought, and was channeled with emotion rather than knowledge.

The hoof tapped again.

“You’re proposing that I turn my sister to stone.” Celestia’s words were carefully neutral. “Or worse. Somehow I guess that there’s more to them than the power to petrify.”

The wizard shrugged unhappily. “I’m proposing we use the one tool we’ve got.”

Celestia bit her lip, casting her eyes back and forth. It was true. Everything he said was true.

But…

How can you even be thinking about this?! You’ve spent CENTURIES with Luna! Playing and loving and fighting and making up… it’ll end if you do this. She’s your sister!

Her eyes turned back to the battleground. She growled, echoing Star Swirl’s words too low for him to hear. “How many of them were sisters?”

But the anger faded as quickly as it came, and she glanced skyward. “But we rule together. Forever. I can’t just end ‘Forever.’”

The back-and-forth in her head ended abruptly, interrupted by a shout with a thick Prench accent. “Star Swirl! Thank the Dawn you’re safe!”

“…So I can kill you myself,” the indignant lifeguard finished. Fleur-De-Ancienne was puffing with exertion, his once-white face now beat red.

Celestia arched an eyebrow, noting that he didn’t even acknowledge her. He strode past, fanning himself with his foppy hat.

Star Swirl looked away guiltily, expecting a lecture from his much-abused guard. Instead, Fleur wobbled and sat down hard on his backside.

“Just ran back from the palace,” he managed between gasps. “Thought you’d be going there. Good thing I was wrong.”

The wizard coughed, and sent a sidelong glance to Celestia. “Well, actually I–”

He caught the last few words and stopped, embarrassment replaced with worry. “What do you mean, ‘good thing?’”

The winded guard jerked his head northwards. “It’s her. It’s Princess Luna.”

Celestia stiffened as the pony went on. “She’s prowling the palace, my lord. Shoots out a window here and there, but seems more focused on talking and shouting. Like she’s arguing with herself, but I beg your pardon, I didn’t get close enough to make much out.”

With his breath regained, Fleur’s voice was tight and professional. He seemed worried, but more interested in giving a cool-headed report.

A brave soul. He deserves a real leader.

Fleur cocked his head. “She was looking different, too. But again, I didn’t get too close. I just stayed around long enough to make sure you didn’t embarrass me by dying.”

Star Swirl smiled, long-accustomed to his minder’s worry. “It’d be my own fault. I don’t–”

Celestia’s voice rang out above his, her back already towards them. “I’m going.”

The two unicorns hesitated, looking at her. Fleur, perhaps finally realizing he snubbed his ruler, retreated a pace.

The wizard eyed her. “Are you ready?”

“No choice. The Elements are in the palace, and Luna knows where they are.”

She turned her head. A reassuring smile formed on Celestia’s face, and she graced him with a nod. “Yes. I’m ready.”

The smile lasted exactly long enough for her to turn away and launch herself to the air. Star Swirl had called out a last few words, but they were drowned by her hammering thoughts.

No. She wasn’t ready. Not at all.

She had to go, though. This was her chance. Not for the Elements, but for Luna. Finally, they could talk face to face. Sister to sister. They could end this madness.

She flew, fast and hard as she could. It was the work of moments, tearing beneath the mad stars and too-large moon. She wore no halo of fire, cast no comet-trail behind her. She wasn’t coming as the princess of the sun, bearing vengeance. Not even as Princess Celestia.

It was just Tia, needing a talk with her sister.

Tia landed before the palace and hurried in, leaving the doors open behind her. She could hear Luna’s voice, but… no, it wasn’t Luna’s voice. There was a soft echo to it, a vicious, commanding sneer.

No, not even that. It was the sneer that was the noise, with Luna’s voice as the echo.

It was coming from the throne room. Tia advanced cautiously, hiding her power. Opening and closing the parlor door softly.

The almost-Luna voice was clearly audible, berating somepony in there with her. “Have you lost your hearing, old fool? Kneel to me! Worship me! I am Nightmare Moon, and you’ll kneel or I’ll kill you!”

“I won’t!” The return voice was stern and matronly. “And you won’t kill me! Because Luna’s in there somewhere, and she’s a good one. She won’t let you!”

Even as black as things seemed, Tia smiled. Good old Mama Shield. Sixty years a guard, and even now she never left her post. She always joked that she’d sooner die.

Die.

The smile fell. Tia ran.

All pretense of stealth gone, Tia took out half the wall as she crashed through the foyer. The old grey mare was there, flinching as a bolt of blue-green energy shot towards her.

Her eyes closed, Mama Shield only heard and felt Tia arrive. First a crash, then the heat. Like a fireball, coming from behind, then leaping over her to plant itself in front.

She opened her eyes just in time to see the flare as the killing blow met Tia’s aura. The bolt hit the white shield and bounced off through the skylight.

Tia wasn’t looking at the old Mama. Her attention was fixed ahead, at the thing standing by the thrones.

It was tall. Taller than Tia, and far taller than Luna ever was. Glossy fangs poked bizarrely from its equine mouth. Pale blue eyes watched her through slit pupils, standing out all the more for the black hair covering the body.

No, not hair. Just blackness where the coat should be.

Yet here and there it wasn’t quite so. The mare stepped forward, and a bit of the blackness sloughed off like wet tar. Dark blue could be seen beneath… or was it just Tia’s imagination?

It’s not. Luna’s in there.

“Run,” Tia hissed to the withered mortal behind her. Dog-loyal though she was, Mama Shield needed no second bidding.

“Ooh,” Luna cooed mockingly. “Nice save, Tia! You’re such a

Hero!” The last word sent a shockwave through the chamber, cracking every window. The humored tone vanished, replaced by rage in Luna’s voice. “I bet she’ll tell everypony about what a wonderful princess you are!”

This was it. Tia summoned what composure she could and stood tall, neither submissive nor aggressive. “Luna!” she called loudly. “Stop this at once!”

“Who-na?” The mare shot back with a maniac grin. “There’s no such thing.”

She jerked her head suddenly, whipping off some of the blackness covering her face. Tia gasped. There! There was Luna’s face, beneath the fanged shell.

Briefly, the being was half-Luna, half-monster. Both halves grinned madly in twisted mirror of each other.

Tia recoiled in horror, quailing under her sister’s wide-eyed gaze.

Luna laughed. Now it was her own voice, with the monster as the echo. “Oh, don’t be like that. I’m still your sister, I’m just a little better. Things’ll be great, Tia. No more of those sourpuss Old Luna things that drove you up a wall. No more mood swings, no more dodging your half-assed attempts at therapy. No more…”

“…you.”

The beam caught Tia by surprise. It hit her square in the chest – enough to kill her, at least for a time.

It didn’t, though. Tia’s chestpiece was more than ornament, and deflected the worst of it. Still, the princess flew back a dozen paces and fell in a heap.

“Things will be better in every way,” the two half-faces said, still eerily in Luna’s voice. The mare strode easily off the throne dais, nose raised. “It’s what Luna wants.”

It continued in a mockingly whining voice. “Oh, how I wish things were better for me! Why doesn’t anypony get me? I’m so lonely!”

It threw its head back and laughed, the evil, regal voice taking the fore again. “HeheHAHAHA! Oh, you alicorns! You stupid alicorns! You have everything, and you still want more!”

“What are you?!” Tia shrieked, scrambling to her hooves in such a hurry that she tripped and fell again.

Hyperventilating, she staggered upright once more. Her resolve had all but deserted her. This monster… so horrible to see, with half of Luna’s face…

…But if it swallowed Luna back up, maybe she’d be gone forever.

“I told you: I’m your sister. Just better.” Her beam fired again. Tia dodged to the side, once more hitting the ground in a sprawl.

Luna made no move to press her advantage. “The old Luna’s gone. Good riddance, right? The name’s not really fitting for the queen of Equestria. Instead, call me…”

“…Nightmare Moon. And die!” With a shrill laugh, she fired again.

This time, a white bubble came to life around Tia. The beam struck it hard, cracking the shield before dissipating.

Nightmare Moon fired again, and this too was barely repulsed. When no counter-attack came, she fired twice more. The last shot partially broke the shield and struck Tia on the horn. The white alicorn gave a shout of pain and fell back on her haunches.

It hurt, but Tia was barely stunned. Her eyes glowed white, her horn glowed gold, and–

She looked up, and saw Luna’s face. Half-covered, half-mad, but it was still Luna.

Still Luna.

Luna braced, awaiting Tia’s strike. When it didn’t come, she fired another bolt, hitting Tia in the head.

This time it was Tia’s crown – again, more protection than ornament – that saved her. The rune-scribed metal burst to pieces. Tia recoiled and closed her eyes, but remained sitting upright.

When she opened her eyes again, the smile was gone from Luna’s face. Her head was cocked, looking with pensive confusion at her opponent.

“Is this a diversion?” Luna mused. “Is she just saving her energy? Or…”

Another maniac laugh sounded as she realized the answer. “Of course! Little goody four-hooves is too good of a sister to fight her pwecious wittle Woona. Oh, this is rich!”

“Well don’t worry, ‘Tia.’” Luna’s face gave one last grin. “I’m too good of a ‘sister’ to fight dirty with you.”

The darkness began expanding across the body again. Like ink, it crept into her hair and began dribbling down what was left of Luna’s face.

“Stop. Stop!” Tia raised a hoof out, but made no other move. She was dumb with horror and desperation, watching as her sister vanished from sight.

Somehow, the insane grin on Luna grew even larger. The black dribbling turned to pooling, running down her face and dripping to the floor. Where it touched her teeth, they grew and sharpened. Line by dripped line, they crossed her eye and left a slit, teal eye behind.

Soon, the last bit of Luna had been eaten. Nightmare Moon stood before Tia, whole and terrible to behold.

The mad grin vanished as orange light shot from Tia’s horn, knocking the monster head over tail.

Tia? Not to that thing. She was Princess Celestia. And she would free her sister.

“Finally!” The creature cried. It leapt up and flapped its wings, taking to the air. Celestia followed suit and they circled each other, firing their magic with no hits. Celestia picked up speed, trying to get behind her foe. Nightmare Moon matched the move, and in a matter of seconds the two had spiraled through the ceiling.

Fortunately, the ceiling was nothing more than a massive sun roof. The two alicorns passed through the glass like it wasn’t there, ignoring the deadly shards they scattered beneath them. They jockeyed with each other, diving and twisting and firing their controlled beams.

The futility of it was soon apparent. After ten minutes of maneuver, both had only gotten a single lucky hit to no real effect. Even when Celestia took another direct blow, it just washed off her fiery aura. With her guard up, the hits that once sent her sprawling were barely even noticed.

Luna, hold on. I’ll get you back.

It was too loud of a truth to keep silent about. “I’ll get my sister back! Even if it takes all night!”

Nightmare Moon sneered, easily dodging away as Celestia tried to close the distance. “Gonna have a long wait!”

Celestia accelerated, forcing Nightmare Moon to match. As the speed increased, the game of maneuver turned to a game of chicken. The night sky turned to a blur as the two veered around each other, their once-inaccurate shots now impossible. It became a contest to see who would ram the other… or collide with the ground.

Luna’s still in there. She’s holding back. I am, too. We’ll get through this.

After yet another close dodge, Nightmare Moon was caught by surprise as Celestia’s aura expanded in an instant. Where once there was air, the corrupted princess found herself slamming through a wall of searing, orange heat. She cried in panic, and thrashed as the tiny sun enveloped her.

It wasn’t too hot, or too destructive. It hurt, but it was dark magic that Celestia’s flames were truly anathema to. The dark shell around Luna burnt and cracked, then crumbled. Slowly, the younger alicorn beneath became visible. The dark blue hair and wide eyes soon dominated the form, though still she struggled against the aura’s grip.

She would have broken out had Celestia not swooped down, gripping Luna in her own hooves. More magic than heat, the flames bit at her as well as they scoured the evil shell. She felt Luna’s hoof collide with her eye, then twice on her snout. That hurt too, but still she held.

Celestia only smiled as one last punch broke her nose. It hurt. It would heal. And so would Luna.

When the thrashing stopped, Celestia doused her aura. She held Luna, and Luna was the only one there. The younger alicorn was looking around and blinking, as if having just woken up.

Hardly daring to do so, Celestia tilted her head back to look at her sister. The madness was gone from Luna’s eyes. Not a trace of the black shell remained. She was Luna again.

Celestia took a slow breath in through her throbbing nose. Tears were flowing freely, but she smiled all the same. Another crisis averted. This one the most painful yet, but they made it through. Together. Even Star Swirl won’t protest when he hears the story.

She pulled Luna in even closer, pressing her weeping eyes into her neck. Yes, Luna was there. She was real. She was Luna.

“Sister?” Luna asked, a faint rumble at the edge of her voice. “What are you doing?”

Celestia giggled. “Hugging you, silly. Welcome back.”

“‘Back?’” Gently, Luna pushed Celestia away, leaving her hooves on the older sister’s shoulders. “Sister, you don’t understand.”

“Hm?” Celestia tilted her head.

And the next thing she heard was the crack.

She didn’t even notice until after it happened. Luna’s hooves jerked with sudden violence, grabbing Celestia’s neck and twisting. Her vision spun up and her body went numb, and all that even before she heard the neck break.

Celestia began to fall. Luna’s hooves remained on her neck just long enough to hang her in the air for a moment, looking helplessly back upward.

Luna leaned in close. The grin was returning, and the dark energy began to cover her once more.

Numbly, Celestia saw it at last. It wasn’t an enchantment to dispel, or a specter to banish. It was Luna. Nightmare Moon was Luna. As much a part of her much as her horn and hooves.

“I want this,” Luna said, before vanishing once more into the Nightmare.

And she let go. With her neck broke, Celestia couldn’t even twitch her wings in protest. Gravity claimed her, and she fell to the palace below.

The castle was dark. She knew it, even with her eyes closed.

She moved a little bit – a twitch of the neck and foreleg, both splayed out at odd angles. She felt the soft velvet of the carpet, and the grind and prick of broken glass.

The throne room. She had fallen right back through the broken ceiling.

Celestia hadn’t even been knocked out, though an observer would not have known. She lay where she fell, not even shifting from the glass or opening her eyes. Long minutes passed before even those first twitches.

She… needed a few moments to think.

Luna. Nightmare Moon. Was there a difference, anymore?

Maybe not. Luna wasn’t acting under another’s control. It was Luna who ordered her guards to war, and demanded worship from the ponies. It was Luna who broke Celestia’s neck.

The neck had healed, but still she lay motionless.

Luna had betrayed her. Worse, she betrayed the trust their ponies placed in her. It was horrid, but it was a truth Celestia could accept. Luna had become a monster. She needed to be stopped.

If that was all, Celestia could do it. Mourn her lost sister, regret not seeing what brought her to this, and do what was needed.

But there was more. There were damning, niggling doubts in her mind, holding her back.

Luna knew a broken neck wouldn’t kill her. Why didn’t she press the attack?

Luna knew the Elements of Harmony were hidden in this very room. Why did she leave Celestia with them? Did she just not think about it? Or maybe Nightmare Moon doesn’t know what Luna does?

Maybe there was still a difference between Nightmare Moon and Luna. And if that was true, maybe Luna wasn’t all those terrible things. She was innocent, and kind. A little angry, but they could talk when this was over. She had to be scared, trapped inside that monster…

“I want this.”

Celestia caught herself. Nightmare Moon had been mocking and haughty, not this… personal. It was Luna that said it.

Or maybe not.

Five minutes had passed since her twitch, and Celestia gave another sign of life. A sigh, then a whisper. “What should I do?”

Wait. Research. Try to figure it out. Try to save Luna. Separate her from Nightmare Moon, by force if that’s what it takes. There has to be some spell in some book, somewhere.

And in the meantime, more ponies die. They kill each other, they go hungry. Or they get eaten by monsters, made bold by the endless night. More ponies die, and the rest turn on each other, fighting over scraps and beliefs…

But Luna! She might still be in there, waiting to be rescued. Even if the kingdom's halved by the time this is over, Luna's worth it! She's my sister, and–

Celestia’s eyes shot open, as if awakening from a nightmare. She shook her head hard, ignoring the ache in her neck, trying to rattle the thought out of her brain.

“It’s not about Luna.”

The words were just in her head. She knew she was alone, but she could still hear Star Swirl’s stern, sad voice.

“It’s not about Celestia, either. It’s about them.”

Them. The mortals. The ponies she lived for. She and Luna had led them for so long. Helped them build a society that they tried to make kind and just. Fought alongside them to protect it.

Luna was like Discord, now. Or Sombra, after he changed. Power without control. Lashing weaker beings into submission, trying to beat the world into her own image. No one to answer to. Indulging her maddest whims, reveling in the destruction.

A gold-shod hoof righted itself on the ground, and Celestia slowly stood. Her breathing was very shallow, and a tremble coursed through her body.

A few last, treacherous thoughts swept through her mind. Memories of happier times. Racing Luna through the sky. Sipping tea with her at parties, the pair giggling as blushing stallions asked them to dance.

Those times don’t have to be over. A little more time, and I can find the answer. A few more battles, a few more lost cities. A few more weeks of night, and I can get her back again.

She held the thought, turning it over in her head.

The vain hope no longer had power over her. Celestia released it, and forced the memories from her mind.

At least, she tried to. Memories of Luna’s innocent, laughing face returned to the forefront of her thoughts as she spoke.

“It’s not about you, Luna. And it’s not about me. It’s about them.”

The memories didn’t matter. How much or little of this was the real Luna’s fault… that didn’t matter. It mattered to Celestia, but that didn’t matter, either. All of that was secondary. Hesitation born of sentimentality. It already cost thousands of lives.

No more hesitation. It was time to act.

Even with the happy memories at the front of her mind, Celestia’s eyes were dry. Her horn glowed above a stone-set face, and the carpet burned. Halfway between the thrones and the door, a square block of it roasted so quickly there wasn’t even time for the fire to spread. Her telekinesis yanked up the stones beneath, and then the Elements of Harmony from their hiding place.

They weren’t much to look at. Six grey spheres, each with a simple engraving.

There was so much more, though. At the barest touch of her magic, they began circling her of their own accord. Her emotions bubbled out of her, drawn by their power. She wanted to laugh and cry, scream and dance…

But one thought, one feeling, outshined the rest.

Duty.

No, two things. Duty and… love. Love for her ponies, who she had to protect. Love for Luna, who she had to

Destroy.

Perhaps from the Elements themselves, the thought came to her, and she gave it voice. “Yes, destroy.”

Celestia swallowed, voice wavering. “But if it’s at all possible not to kill her… please…”

They shimmered weirdly, like oil in the sunlight. A dark, shifting rainbow. Maybe they were giving her an answer, though what it was she couldn’t say.

With sudden force, her wings – the last part to heal – righted themselves. Celestia looked up to the moonstruck sky, steeling herself. She licked dry lips and breathed hard for a moment. Once she took off, she couldn’t give herself time to think. No more selfishness.

A last image of Luna’s face. She cast it aside, thinking instead of the bloodstained battlefield and the duty yet before her.

Her wings beat once, and she was off.

It was so much easier now. With her feelings submerged, there was nothing left to hold her back.

Celestia rose, so bright that ponies across the land saw her ascend. A white corona shone about her, though occasional rainbow stripes leaked into the mix.

When she saw Nightmare Moon had departed, she did the one thing she knew would lure it back. With a yellow glow of her horn, Celestia began to drag forth the Sun. Luna would feel her moon being jarred out of position. Nightmare Moon would feel it, too.

Dawn hadn’t even crested when Celestia saw a bolt of black lightning across the lavender sky. It expanded before her, all Nightmare Moon and no Luna. There was no sign of the sloughing and cracking that marked the black coat before.

“Do you really think I’ll let you do that?” It asked, amused. “You got off lightly last time because I wanted you to–”

“I’m sorry, Luna.”

Celestia’s voice was sharp, interrupting her foe with its force and tone. It had a final edge to it, like it was the last thing to be said.

It was. Celestia’s horn glowed white once more, and the Elements around her shimmered. Rainbow light split from each of them, spinning off in wild directions before turning to her horn. Six lines connected at that point, and her eyes went huge and dark.

It was just like the last time, against Discord. Her life spun past her gaze in an instant. Luna was always there, and now–

The instant passed. As if the Elements read her like a book, finding her worthiness and intentions. She could feel her chief feelings – duty and love – clash before one of them rose to the top, yanked forwards by the strange power around her. Before she could see which of the two won, the energy dashed from her horn. The bizarre awareness ended, and the spell had begun.

It was so bright that the colors should have been lost to blinding white, but they were not. An impossible rainbow shot towards Nightmare Moon. She snarled in fear, firing her own blue-green magic in desperate counter.

The powers warred, however briefly. The beams met and held each other, grappling above the shattered palace.

It did not take one second, or ten. But at the fourteenth, the rainbow shot forwards, destroying or consuming Nightmare Moon’s defense. It veered to the side as it reached the night princess, turning to enwrap its target rather than strike.

With the magic released and the beam out of the way, Celestia saw her sister one last time as the rainbow snaked around and around. She was still Nightmare Moon from head to tail, but her expression was one of fear. The fanged mouth was curled in a whimper, the eyes in tears. Both hooves were outstretched, as if desperately hoping Celestia would pull her out.

Celestia couldn’t. And… she wouldn’t.

Before a word could be said, the encircling rainbow hid Nightmare Moon’s head from view. It formed a perfect sphere around the black-coated alicorn.

What came next wasn’t an explosion, but it felt like one. A shockwave of force and light emerged as the sphere completed, hitting Celestia with the force of a thunderclap. She cried out and tumbled backwards, two of her hoof cups spinning off into the night. The light blinded her, and she lost nearly half her altitude before regaining her senses.

She blinked, and saw she was alone. No rainbows, no Nightmare Moon. Even the Elements of Harmony were tumbling earthwards, as stones do.

Knocked loose in the blast, a third hoofcup slipped off and fell. Celestia gazed skyward, taking no heed.

Above, still low and ominous in the sky, the moon hung. And a giant, cratered mural had been painted upon it.

Luna. Or Nightmare Moon. Or both.

Low as the moon was, the image seemed to tower over Celestia. She was a tiny white speck on its face, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She snapped her gaze away, glaring accusingly to the dark land below. Somewhere, the things that did this had fallen.

“What, do you want to leave a reminder for me?” She asked, a hard sob in her voice. “You needn’t have. I won’t forget this.”

Duty.

Love.

And the day I murdered Luna.

They found Celestia in the throne room, gazing to the moon through the ruined ceiling. Mama Shield led the way, followed a step behind by Star Swirl and Fleur-De-Ancienne.

The Elements of Harmony lay around the Princess, grey and lifeless. Her back was to the newcomers, and she didn’t say a word or spare a look.

They glanced to each other – the commanding wizard, the motherly guard, and the noble fop. They were wordless, with damp eyes and drawn mouths.

It was, oddly, the ever-suffering Fleur who made the first move. He walked up behind Celestia, clearing his throat and heavily crushing glass beneath his step. When that gained no reaction, he – gently, tenderly – reached a hoof out to touch her shoulder.

When it was halfway there, she turned her head.

There were no tears, nor any sign of them. No telltale stains on the white of her face, nor a hint of redness to the eyes. Celestia locked Fleur with a cool glare, her nosed raised slightly. Her posture was tall, wings folded tightly at her side. A vague, aristocratic frown marked her face.

The crown was gone, but she was every bit as tall and imposing as a sovereign should be. Quietly, Fleur retracted his hoof.

Celestia spoke, terse and stern. “Sir Fleur-De-Ancienne.”

Wrong-hoofed, Fleur snapped to attention. “Oui, my lady?”

“Go to the Lunars,” she said without a lost beat. “The army you just fought. Tell them that Nightmare Moon is gone. She is utterly beaten, and she will not be back. I am prepared to hear their surrender, and will be generous with terms if they give it immediately.”

“Here, let me prove it to them.”

Celestia’s horn glowed, and the sun rose. Across the continent, it was a moment unlike any other. Shouts of joy echoed across the cities and towns, drowning out the angry howl of monsters and nervous grumbles of the rebels. It was a day of salvation, its story to be celebrated in mural and song, and carried forth as a holiday forever after.

For Celestia, it was an interruption.

“And if they don’t surrender to you this morning, tell them they will surrender to me at dusk.”

Fleur’s mouth moved like he was going to speak, but nothing came out. Instead he bowed quickly and spun on a hoof. His departure was fast, delayed only by a second to share a glance with Star Swirl.

Celestia turned, and faced the remaining two. “Star Swirl. Whatever’s left of the army, disperse it. Bring order back to the realm. Send the provincials home to drive out the monsters. Have them protect the food stores and police the roads. We will have a lean winter, but Equestria will live.”

The wizard tilted his head, eyes away. “If there are Lunars who want to help put things back together, can I let them?”

“Yes,” his liege said. Star Swirl nodded and began to turn, though her voice arrested him.

“And Star Swirl?”

“Yes, Princess?”

She licked her lips – the first break in composure since they found her. “Thank you.”

He raised a hoof to her, voice cracking through his habitual grunt. “Princess, I’m sor–”

“Any other questions?” Celestia asked, voice like flint.

A shocked pause, then he sighed. “No. My lady.” Star Swirl bowed, one hoof keeping his hat in place. While Fleur had left with alacrity, Star Swirl moved slowly. He slouched his way out the door, eyes planted to the ground.

Celestia nodded, and turned to the last one. “Shield. I am exhausted, and need to recover in my room. Rouse me in three hours. Or sooner, if you hear the Lunar army won’t surrender.”

The old guard swallowed hard and said nothing, bowing low.

Celestia gave a curt nod and turned, marching through the doorway Star Swirl had blown open. Up two flights of stairs, then two right turns to her room.

The door glowed gold, and slammed shut behind her. Celestia kicked off her last hoof cup and sat down hard on the stool before her vanity.

She looked at the mare in the mirror. Tired, yes, but regal. Strong and imperious. Good. That’s what they would see.

For long minutes she sat there, just taking in her own reflection. Finally, she leaned forward and settled her forehooves on the table, bringing her face inches from the glass.

There they were. A few tears, and a weeping smile to the mouth.

“Well, Tia,” she said, her voice coursed with a sob. “Your sister is gone. She’s gone!”

Celestia planted her head to her forehooves and cried. She breathed in and out in ragged gasps, hiccupping and sobbing and mewling indistinguishable words.

Luna. Gone.

And I killed her! To salve my own stupid conscience, I killed my own sister!

“How could you?” She snarled to her reflection. “You monster! You, you…”

With a growl, Celestia began gnawing at her foreleg. There was pain, but no blood as her blunt teeth bit into the flesh. Her jaws worked up and down violently, chewing to no effect.

The exhausted princess only kept it up for a minute before tearing her mouth away. Limply, but with as much strength as she could manage, she slapped the leg to the vanity desk. Perfume bottles were toppled, and flecks of drool splattered across the woodwork.

She slapped it again, twice more, before draining the energy to do even that. With the last one, she lost her balance and fell from the stool. She curled up there, shaking and mumbling.

Horrible. Necessary.

Luna. Nightmare Moon.

What was left, Luna? What was you?

No answers. She cried, eyes to her forelegs, but did her best to cry quietly. No one could know.

Times would be hard. There would be fanatic holdouts, monster nests, and hungry mouths. The ponies needed someone they could have faith in. A strong leader. They leader they need.

Not the kind of pony who curls up and cries under her vanity. Certainly not.

Celestia hugged herself with her wings, rocking quietly on the floor. Tomorrow, then. Tomorrow she would be the leader they need.

Today… she would just pretend.

Author's Notes:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CiTn4j7gVvY

With thanks to the pre-reading assistance of Derpmind.