Grim Tidings

These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend no good to us.

William Shakespeare- King Lear, 1.2


'What is good for Celestia is good for Equestria.'

The proverb had been passed down from generation to generation amongst ponykind. Though brief, it neatly defined the relationship that existed between the princess and her subjects. They owed her their very lives, and it stood to reason that anything which benefited her would in turn better the world.

And now, as Celestia awaited the birth of her first child, the truth of that saying had never been more apparent. Due to the emotionally driven nature of her magic, the alicorn's overwhelmingly positive mood was having some very profound effects on the rest of the world.

The most noticeable change was the rapid increase in solar luminosity. In the passing months, Equestria had enjoyed the mildest winter and balmiest spring in recorded history. The resulting warmth heralded a bountiful growing season, and some even swore that their own health had been bolstered by the sun.

The brightness was even noticeable on the moon, where the heightened illuminance washed over the lunar maria to produce the clearest nights in Equestrian history. But even then, some regions of the moon remained in shadow. Deep in the heart of the Rimae Foalcas, a jet black alicorn shied away from the light. For centuries, she had endured the sun's presence. Now it seemed the Celestia sought to mock her further, flooding her prison with light and heat that was all but unbearable. Cursing her sister, she retreated further into the gloom and dreamt of the night when she would grasp hold of that blinding, damnable orb and finally snuff it out.

At the moment, Celestia had not even considered how she was currently infuriating her younger sibling. In fact, she had barely even noticed the photometric consequences of her euphoria. Despite her best efforts, her thoughts stubbornly returned to barely-contained excitement. Only two years left!

She had restrained herself admirably the first twelve months. She had attended to matters of state, overseen the last repair efforts in the wake of the meteor (or Aethon's Strike, as the historians now called it.) She had even limited herself to checking in on the egg only once per day! Now, though, the impending hatching had changed her from a calm monarch into a filly on Hearth Warming's Eve. Her thoughts were drawn to it every day, questions racing about in her mind. Would it be a boy or a girl? Would its scales be the same color as the egg? What would she name it?

But for the moment, Celestia could only watch and wait. There was no use in being impatient, she would remind herself. The egg would hatch when it was ready, and didn't they say that a watched phoenix never immolates? Granted, that was a bit of a lie, as Philomena always waited until she possessed the maximum number of observers before bursting into flames.

But even as she continued her daily routine, a sliver of nervousness began to creep into Celestia's thoughts. It had been an entire year, after all, and there had not been a single change since she first plucked it from the crater. Her logical side reasoned that this was to be expected. Of course the egg would look the same as before, it was typical of oviparous reproduction. Her emotional side, on the other hand, was much less composed. Something could have gone wrong! It might have been damaged in the meteor impact, or perhaps she had been incubating it incorrectly! There was no way to tell!

She found herself running out of meetings to check up on it, or bolting awake at night and frantically reassuring herself that it was still nestled between her forelegs.

She wished that somehow she could carry it like any other expectant mother. She wanted to feel its kicks, to have its weight inside her as a reminder that it was safe, that it was healthy. It might have been that longing for a normal pregnancy, or perhaps it was because of the pent-up energy that yearned for a release. Whatever the reason, it continued to grow until one quiet summer evening, when Celestia finally snapped.

It began when the much-abused doors to her balcony were broken down by a violently thrown dresser. Shortly thereafter, the entire castle was filled with the sounds of displaced furniture and breaking glass. None of the servants were brave enough to investigate, attributing the noise to a group of vengeful ponygeists, or perhaps a crazed interior decorator. Alerted by the series of bangs and crashes from the monarch's bedroom, the castle guards quickly assembled and stormed into the chamber, only to stare in bemusement at the scene unfolding before them. They had expected to see their princess struggling against some malicious foe, not simply cleaning her room. Although perhaps 'cleaning' was not a strong enough word, as the alicorn was levitating several brooms, mops, and washrags while flinging objects to the side in her manic pursuit of dust.

"Pri… princess," one of the braver ponies sputtered. "Do you… um… require assistance?"

Her eyes snapped to the assembled stallions with a start. She looked them over carefully, and each guard unconsciously straightened as if for a military inspection. When it became clear that no answer was forthcoming, one of the younger stallions lifted a hoof to enter the room.

"WAIT!"

Celestia's yell caused the guard to stumble back in surprise. Or perhaps it was the mop she was brandishing in his face.

"Just what do you think you're doing, hmm? Traipsing in here with that filthy armour, and who knows what sort of monstrosities you've chopped into pieces lately," she said with a suspicious glance at his broadsword. "No, no, no, none of you are setting hoof into this room in such a state!"

The guard's mouth dropped open in confusion. This situation had not been covered in Basic Training. How was one supposed to react when interrogated at mop-point with the princess threatening to swab your deck? He tried to think of a tactful response, but he suddenly found himself possessed by a most unwelcome sensation. He broke into a cold sweat; this could not be happening! Not here, not now! With an extremely volatile princess just inches away, he knew that it would be akin to signing his own death warrant.

He strained to keep his body immobile, years of discipline warring against his own physical urges. He silently begged for the feeling to dissipate. But just when he seemed on the verge of forcing it down, Celestia's mop shook ever so slightly. The guard watched in horror as a light cloud of dust rained down over his nose.

The sensation returned with a vengeance. He futilely ground his teeth together, trying to prolong his life by a few precious seconds. Finally, he could bear it no more. Celestia's eyes widened in realization, but she had no time to move away. His head reared back, his eyes clenched shut, and he silently willed his relatives to omit flowers at the impending funeral.

"ACHOO!"

He kept his eyes closed as an eerie silence filled the room. From behind him came a low rush of air, the other guards simultaneously gasping in dread. A series of muffled scuffs sounded on the floor; no doubt the entire squadron was backing away from ground zero.

The spot that was likely to become the most hazardous place in the known universe.

The spot that he was unluckily occupying.

*snap*

The dry snapping sound was enough to force open his eyes. Celestia had not moved an inch, nor had her expression changed. Her mood had obviously dropped, however, at least if the broken mop was any indication. He watched in morbid fascination as a series of fissures spread along the two halves of the wooden handle. Tiny cracking sounds filled the room as flames seemed to blaze in the alicorn's eyes.

"That does it," Celestia roared. "Out you go! OUT, OUT, OUT!"

The pitiful remnants of the mop exploded in a rain of splinters, and the guards fell into a panicked retreat. Their rescue had failed, their forces had been routed, and one mop had been killed in action.

A dark day for the Canterlot Royal Guard.


Things were proceeding nicely. She had personally scoured the entire room, leaving even the chandelier completely free of dust. Any furniture that possessed sharp or pointed edges had been removed and quickly replaced with cushioned substitutes. She had moved her dressers and bookshelves into recessed alcoves to hide any protruding corners that a toddling infant might fall against. The end result was a wide and open space, perfect for any newborn to explore or play when not in the nursery.

Celestia paused as an idea sprang up. She could simply construct the nursery inside her bedroom! There was certainly enough space, and it seemed only sensible for a mother to always be in close proximity to her child. Nodding to herself, she began telekinetically clearing a space.

"So, this is what's been causing all the racket? A cleaning frenzy?"

She turned to see Cascade leaning against the open doorframe, amusement plain in his remaining eye. Despite their initial confrontation over the egg, the unicorn had been the first of her advisors to fully support her in hatching it.

"Good evening, General," she said over her shoulder. "And yes, I simply felt the need to tidy up in here. Quite a bit of the furniture seemed… impractical, and besides-"

"You don't have to make excuses, your highness," the charcoal stallion laughed. "As a father and a grandfather, I can recognize nesting when I see it."

Celestia felt her face heat up in embarrassment. "You must find this entire situation completely absurd."

The unicorn only smiled kindly.

"Nothing to feel embarrassed about. It's a perfectly natural instinct… or obsession, depending on how you look at it."

He stepped inside and quickly scanned the room. "Of course, some cases do seem to be a bit more extreme than others."

"My wife simply rearranged the furniture in our bedroom," he continued. "Granted, she forced me to spend nearly three hours making sure that one dresser was set at the proper angle…"

He shook his head as if banishing an unpleasant memory. "My daughter, on the other hand, completely remodeled her kitchen so that each of the cupboards could be reached without relying on magic."

"And then there's you," he said with a wave of his hoof. "You demolish century old furniture, turn your chambers upside-down, and almost reduce my newest recruits to tears."

Celestia winced. "I am sorry for that. I'll be sure to personally apologize to each of them."

'Especially that poor colt that I nearly smothered with a mop,' she remembered grimly.

"As you wish, Princess. But tell me, what grievance did you have with them? One mentioned something about your dissatisfaction with their wardrobe? I was unaware that the currently issued armour was so-"

"It wasn't the armour," she protested. Cascade arched an eyebrow at his monarch's helpless expression.

"You're worried about something."

Suddenly all of the nervousness and uncertainty came rushing to the forefront. She had intended to dismiss the unicorn's worries and send him on his way. Instead, she sank to the floor and began spilling the truth. That she was afraid. That she had never done this sort of thing before and had no idea if she was doing it right. That she was afraid she'd be a terrible parent.

"And just today I read that these types of dragons hatch in extremely high-temperature environments! Their immune systems take longer to develop because the heat initially takes care of any bacteria or viruses," she wailed. "I can't just toss the egg in a volcano for the next two years, so I tried to make sure this room was-"

Her rant was cut short as a hoof was pressed lightly against her mouth.

"Forgive me if I'm overstepping my bounds, your highness," Cascade was looking her straight in the eye, speaking slowly and clearly so that she caught every word. "But I need you to shut up and listen."

"I know that things seem overwhelming now, but you have to remember that you've looked after this egg for a full year already. You weren't this worried about it then, were you?" She opened her mouth to reply, but he was already continuing. "No, you weren't; uncertain perhaps, but not worrying yourself sick and questioning your abilities."

"Your problem is up here," he motioned a hoof to his forehead. "Your mind is turning and turning, thinking of bleak possibilities and worst case scenarios." He dropped his hoof and smiled. "But in this case, that's not what you should be listening to. So tell me, what does your heart think? Does it want this child?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Does it love this child?"

"Yes." More sure, more forceful this time.

"Is it willing to do anything and everything it can to ensure that this child hatches and grows happily and healthily?"

"Yes!"

She was right in his face now, her muzzle almost pressed against his own as she glared into his eye.

He grinned inwardly. Worked every time.

"Then I know that you'll be an excellent mother. I can confidently say that there's nopony in Canterlot more qualified to raise this child than you." He gave her foreleg a comforting pat. "I know you're afraid. Trust me; it's alright to be afraid. But there is a tremendous difference between worry and self-doubt. Should you question yourself, you'll only invite disaster. Just remember that I have faith in you. Your entire kingdom has faith. Most importantly, you must have faith in yourself.

Celestia pulled her head back and sighed. He was right, of course. She just needed to calm down and not let her emotions get the best of her. She was certainly impressed by his advice. She doubted most ponies could have so quickly thought up such effective words. Although come to think of it, his entire speech had been delivered fluidly. Almost as if…

"You rehearsed this, didn't you," she accused.

Cascade gulped. "Well, it, um, wasn't completely the same you understand. Obviously, she wasn't giving birth to a dragon, and it's not like you're eating alfalfa ice-cream with mustard at the moment." He could see that she wasn't buying it. "But yes, I suppose it was nearly identical to the speech I gave my daughter a year ago."

The princess couldn't help but laugh. "General, I think I'm a few centuries too old for you to be giving me such… paternal advice."

"Can you honestly blame me," the unicorn countered. "You've lectured me since I was just a colt. How could I pass up a chance to try it for myself?"

She laughed again, the last of her worry slowly bleeding away. Seeming to notice her relaxed posture, Cascade stepped back through the door.

"It looks as though my job here is done," he said.

Celestia's face split into a mischievous grin. "Quite so. Thank you for all your help, my number-one assistant!"

Cascade froze in his tracks, head drooping and sighing in resignation. "When are you going to stop calling me that," he muttered.

"Just as soon as it no longer annoys you!" She called out over the sound of the door slamming.


For a time, it seemed as if the second year would be much the same as the first. A white, pleasant winter melted off into the first green buds of spring. Adults worked, children attended school, and ponies of all ages carried on as they always had. Some found jobs, some found their cutie marks, and some even found love. But through it all, there was a building undercurrent of excitement

Their monarch's joyous mood had long since spread to the populace. Visitors to the castle inquired as to the egg's health. Nursemaids and herpetologists offered their services whenever it should hatch. Oddsmakers the world over began to predict the chances of a male or female birth. Even the most stolid of ponies would be forced to admit that their ruler had taken on the beautiful glow common to all mothers-to-be. Although that might have simply been due to bolometric growth…

All that changed on a warm, humid day in autumn when the sky began to blacken.

Acting purely on instinct, many ponies immediately ran for cover, assuming that the darkness precluded an unannounced thunderstorm. When a noticeable lack of rain and lightning appeared, they slowly emerged and looked up with amazement.

Slowly, ominously, the moon was beginning to creep across the face of the sun. As unusual as solar eclipses were, this one was especially unusual. In what astronomers would recognize as an annular eclipse, the moon appeared much smaller than the sun. This resulted in a black sphere surrounded by a glowing red ring; as second contact melded into totality, it began to resemble a massively dilated pupil inside of a bloody, burning eye. It made for a very ominous sight, and scarcely anypony could stand to look at it for more than a moment before quickly ducking their heads. Every one of them could have sworn that it felt like the moon was staring right back.

They had no idea how right they were.

There was only one being who understood the meaning behind the eclipse. Gazing up at the anomaly, she saw it for what it truly was: A challenge and a curse. A glimpse of a future where the sun was hidden forever, with only the moon and the cold, twinkling stars for light.

Celestia knew she was up there: hidden somewhere in the shadows. A chill ran up her spine, and she could almost feel the baleful glare. The eyes of a goddess could see far, and she was certain that Luna's were fixed directly upon her.

'No,' a voice rang out furiously from inside. 'You can't think of her as Luna anymore. It would just lead to hesitation, and she would take advantage of it in an instant.'

'But she's my little sister! How can I save her if I only see a monster that needs to be stopped,' she questioned back.

'Isn't that what she is? Or do you really think that ten centuries exiled on the moon will have changed her disposition for the better?'

She had no response to that. When her conscience spoke again, it was soft and apologetic. It spoke in Luna's voice. 'Tia, listen. The future of Equestria, of every pony that lives or ever will depends upon you doing what is right, as difficult as it might be. Even the sister that you remember, that you love, depends on you. Can you raise your hoof against her in love, if not in duty?'

Yes, she could. For her people, for her kingdom, and for her sister above all else.

Exhaling deeply, she pushed aside the now irrelevant documents and lifted several blank scrolls. She wrote quickly, knowing that time might very well be of the essence. The prophecy stated that her sister would return after one-thousand years, but Celestia had no doubts that keeping on schedule would be the last of Luna's priorities. With the last scroll inscribed, she levitated them into a saddlebag and turned to the earth pony whose gaze was nervously set on the eclipse.

"Sweet Grass, summon the council," she ordered. "Present each of them with their assigned instructions, and inform them that I will be expecting a report within the week."

The stallion bowed before loping off down the hall, and Celestia was left to watch the diminishing eclipse as her thoughts turned to what promised to be the most unpleasant family reunion imaginable.


She was standing on a precipice, the figurative point of no return. To stay would be to ignore the upcoming signs of calamity, to sit idly by and hope. To go forward would be to break one of her staunchest promises, to array herself against the last family she possessed. She looked back to the assembled councilors, and wished again that the burden of responsibility was not hers.

Locks clicked, and wide iron doors swung open in the stone walls. Candles flickered to life in their sconces, illuminating a carpeted staircase that descended into a deep, black place. With the other ponies behind her, Celestia began the slow walk downward. Behind them, the massive doors boomed shut. The chamber was sealed, only the magical charms around them kept oxygen fresh and circulating. The candles winked out behind them as they reached their destination: a massive auditorium carved deep into the bowels of the mountain. In the midst of that great hall stood a small table, a tiny oasis of light in an otherwise lightless space. A single, weakened spark, struggling against the growing darkness.

Celestia took her seat and gestured for the others to take theirs.

"Report," she said.

General Cascade was the first to stand. He threw a curt nod towards the council before lifting his head, horn alight. The empty space above them misted into a large, white orb. Gradual details emerged, until finally a perfect representation of the moon floated above them. Tracked across the surface were a mass of red, vector-tipped lines.

"This image represents an ongoing study of the Aphelion Observatory. Decades ago, astronomers discovered an anomalous signature residing on the moon. These lines represent that signature, an object of latent magical energy, over a course of the last fifteen years. You'll notice that these lines indicate trajectory and direction congruous with a living creature. Whatever is up there, it is unquestionably alive."

"Now, for the non-unicorns in attendance, let me explain that arcane strength is categorized using the electromagnetic spectrum, with higher frequencies used to denote increased power. As such, the dark red coloration indicates that the object possesses a magical aura similar to, but far weaker than that of a typical pony."

"The mare in the moon? General, don't tell me that we've been called down to this… dungeon simply to discuss legends."

Cascade ignored the question, instead altering the image to show the height of the last week's eclipse.

"Here you see the anomaly beginning from the past moonset to the moment of totality." Several of the advisors with scientific backgrounds gasped at what they saw. The red tracks suddenly shifted to a deep orange, then again to a light ochre.

"As you can see," he continued grimly. "The object's magical intensity has increased by an exponential factor. At its current level, it meets the average magical strength of an adolescent unicorn. I would like the council to keep in mind that most unicorns take almost a decade to strengthen themselves to the degree that this anomaly has done in less than an hour."

The undertone of amusement that had flowed through the room dried up in an instant. "Then… it really is Nightmare Moon?" Cascade had no idea who had spoken, but the question was certainly on the mind of everypony in attendance.

"No question," his scowl twitched upwards at the unanimous flinch from his audience. "These astral signatures are impossible to fake, and the ones given off by ponies are especially simple to identify."

Celestia nodded. "At her current speed of recovery, how long do you estimate before Nightmare returns?"

A quick glance at his notes. "Thankfully, recovering from magical depletion is an enormously long process for something as powerful as an alicorn, and the rate of increase has slowed since the initial surge. Our current information puts the minimum deadline at seventeen months. The maximum stands at fourteen years."

"That's quite a margin of uncertainty," she brought a hoof to her chin, frown deepening. "How do you account for such a gap?"

"Frankly, it all depends on Nightmare Moon, your highness." Cascade now stood at parade rest, gaze sweeping the table. Above him, the ochre lines had deepened into a verdant green. "At the current rate, the minimum deadline represents when she will have regained enough power to break lunar containment and retain sufficient energy to return to Equestria."

A chorus of voices rang out, disbelieving that what they had always dismissed as a simple boogeymare could be upon them in just over a year.

"BUT THAT IS NOT WHAT WE ANTICIPATE!" The general's voice boomed out through the cavern, goading the rest back into silence. "As I said, seventeen months would allow her to return from the moon, but in doing so, her powers would be nearly spent. I would remind you all that we are speaking of a being that possesses the same wisdom and experience of our princess. I can guarantee that she would not make such a tactical error."

Celestia smiled. Luna had always been a precise and thoughtful planner. No matter how anxious she was to escape her banishment, she would never attack unless at full strength.

"Then it seems the prophecy is right on target."

Cascade nodded to her, and the green lines shifted to a dark violet. "Precisely, fourteen years from now."

"That would certainly hit the thousandth year mark," Stillwater chimed in. "But who's to say what day she'll choose to arrive?"

"She'll appear on the Summer Sun Celebration," Celestia said. "Luna always had a flair for the dramatic."

A maroon stallion spoke up from her left. "Then we have the advantage. Whatever strategy she might be considering, we can immediately begin preparations for-"

"In due time, but for now we must concern ourselves with the present." Celestia turned to an aquamarine pegasus at the far end of the table. "Chinook, how did the public react to last week's event?"

"The vast majority paid it little attention," she answered. "As of this moment, I believe that none are seriously connecting it with Nightmare or her impending return."

"You spoke of the majority… what of the rest?"

Chinook pushed an open scroll over to Cascade. "General, if you please?" The unicorn nodded and magically reconfigured the floating image into a gigantic map of Equestria. Several towns were marked with large X's, some of them connected with solid black lines.

"Over the last week there have been some troubling reports made by the police departments of towns such as Pasturedale, Salt Lick City, and Whinnypeg. The first came from Stableside, where they claimed that the day following the eclipse, members of a 'religious group' began disturbing the peace. They were apparently a strange lot; preaching on the street corners about the true goddess of Equestria, and spouting all sorts of metaphors about the encroaching dusk. They left within a day, but things only become more ominous from there."

She indicated one of the marked cities. "They've traveled extensively in the last week, making short stops in every town, spreading word of the eclipse and attempting to draw more to their cause. They're a charismatic bunch, to be sure, even if their numbers aren't swelling."

She trailed off and looked up at Celestia. "As it turns out, 'religious group' was far too charitable of a title. In truth, they're more of a doomsday cult, calling themselves 'The Heart of Penumbra.' Near as we can figure, they've been around nearly as long as Nightmare Moon has been banished, believing that her defeat was in truth a cruel usurpation. That her vain and conniving sister betrayed and exiled her, claiming that her act of self-defense was nothing short of an uprising."

Celestia bristled. She had always tolerated naysay and dissent, but this was far from excusable. The nerve! That these fanatics had the gall to paint her as some cold-hearted monster, to twist her most regrettable action into some devious plot...

Shoving down her anger, she kept to the point. "What impact do you expect them to have?"

The pegasus shrugged. "It's difficult to say, milady. They're certainly aware of the prophecy, else they'd have come out of hiding long before the eclipse. Their forthcoming actions are almost impossible to predict, however, as their individual goals widely differ. For every confrontational devotee, there are two impressionable ponies just swept up by the excitement. These recent members are just as likely to head for the hills once Nightmare actually arrives. The others… well I imagine they'll attempt to seek her out as early as possible to pledge their loyalty. Failing that, it's likely they'll seek to cause as much disorder and panic as they possibly can. I wouldn't be surprised if their demonstrations turned to violence, instigated either by themselves or our own citizens."

Celestia paused. These ponies were an unexpected factor in her plans. Should she take steps against them immediately? It would certainly make things easier in the long run, but persecuting them without provocation would only be supporting their claims about her evil ways. On the other hoof, what if violence did erupt? Would she be inciting rebellion by allowing them free reign?

"Chinook, once the meeting is concluded I want standing orders dispatched to ever settlement in the kingdom. Members of this sect are to be regarded as any other citizens of Equestria. They may freely exercise their opinions, but are subject to the same rules as any other pony. Should their words turn to crime or violence, the authorities are free to arrest and detain them, though not without an initial act of unlawfulness on their part. Is that clear?"

Chinook nodded, frantically writing out the princess' directions. Satisfied, Celestia turned her attention to the next speaker. One by one, each pony stood and delivered their reports. As the meeting progressed, she found her gaze constantly drawn to the right, where her two military advisors were quietly arguing.

"General Cascade, General Ryegate, is there a problem?"

The maroon earth pony glanced up sharply. "Not at all your highness. Though Cascade certainly seems to think there is."

The unicorn's remaining eye narrowed. "Indeed, and all you're going to do is sit there in denial until this particular problem comes up and kicks you in the ass!"

"Gentlecolts, please," Celestia interrupted. "Too much is at stake to be arguing amongst ourselves. Cascade, what troubles you?"

The gray stallion leapt to his hooves. "Your majesty. There is something I have recently learned that coincides with my report on Nightmare Moon and her magical recuperation. General Ryegate has informed me that several of the unicorns under his command have noticed the same energy signature scattered across the country."

"A simple coincidence," Ryegate thundered. "And what it proves is that your own findings are mistaken, when the same energy you claim to monitor is found all over Equestria!"

"Which only proves that Nightmare Moon is already at work," Cascade fired back. "If her presence is here, then it means that certain ponies amongst us have been imparted a portion of her magic." He gestured to the assembled ponies. "It is a more common practice than you might think! You've all seen her majesty's personal honor guard, have you not? Has it never struck you how similar they all appear? The identically colored coats and manes? Their eyes, even?"

The councilors nodded in unison, and a triumphant smirk broke across the unicorn's face. "Well, allow me to inform you that this is not some familial connection or 'simple coincidence,'" he spat at Ryegate. "Rather, it is a physical mutation caused by an infusion of divine magic. Celestia's, to be precise."

Heads turned, the councilors performing an excellent impersonation of an owl as they turned to the princess. Although incensed at having one of her secrets revealed, she nodded to confirm the general's statement.

Ryegate scoffed. "An enlightening parallel, but you've still given no explanation on HOW these ponies were gifted with such power. Are you suggesting that Nightmare Moon took a vacation sometime in the last decade?"

Celestia could see that her old friend was rapidly approaching a meltdown, so she decided it was time to step in.

"General Ryegate," she asked. "Are you familiar with the legend of the Woe-laden Herd?"

"Another old foal's tale," the earth pony replied. "Something about a cursed bloodline stemming from some ancient treachery."

"Quite. And much like the Mare in the Moon, it is a factual account whose relevance has long been forgotten." Motioning the room into silence, she cleared her throat.

"Long before she was exiled, Luna and myself each chose a family of pegasi to serve as our elite guards. As a reward for their service, we imparted a fraction of our power to each of them. We meant it to represent a bond of camaraderie between themselves, and a special connection between them and their rulers. One of the effects was a physical alteration. For my guards, their coats faded to white, their tails to shades of blue. Luna's guards changed to hues of black and gray, eyes golden, and wings resembling those of a bat."

She looked out over the table. As expected, the council was listening raptly, seeming to hang onto every word. "But there was another consequence to this action. One that Nightmare Moon took full advantage of. She learned that the connection between herself and her guards could serve as a conduit, one through which more magic could be forced. In doing so, she could bend them completely to her will."

Her voice had dropped to a whisper. The memories of that day were as painful to recall as ever. "On the day of her banishment, she ordered her guards into battle against my own. They were to fight relentlessly and without mercy, to ensure that no aid could possibly reach me. While she and I dueled, our forces tore each other apart."

"Five-dozen fell in the time before I triumphed. Those of Luna's forces that survived were immediately freed from the mental control, though they were deeply traumatized by the blood they had been forced to shed. They resigned from their duties in shame, scattering into Equestria to attempt and salvage their lives. But all the while, the taint of Nightmare Moon lingered in their blood, passed down from parent to child in an unending curse."

The room fell silent when she finished the tale. It was as though a veil had been lifted from their eyes, and the true severity of the situation was finally apparent. Ponies reduced to mindless drones, ordered into suicidal assaults that had left over half a hundred of their number slain. And if that magical corruption had indeed been carried through their offspring…

"But Princess," Sweet Grass said, his voice oddly strained and fearful. "Surely this is of little concern to us now? With so many generations having come and gone, the taint must have diffused and diluted to almost nothing!"

Ryegate nodded. "He is correct, majesty. The energy signature my troops have noted was of widespread, though miniscule intensity. In truth, it could not even be pinpointed to a single pony."

"It does not matter how concentrated the magic is," she said. "Even the smallest trace is enough for her to take control."

"Good goddess," Ryegate whispered. "If every one of their descendants is a potential link, we could be looking at a third of the kingdom turning against us, at the very least!"

"And with no viable way to identify them, any counter-strategy is going to involve us going in blind," Cascade muttered, already scribbling rapidly on Chinook's map. "Going by sheer probability, the original guards would have settled in larger communities to ensure their anonymity. I think we can safely assume that the vast majority of their descendants will therefore be grouped in the major population centers. Those will have to be priority for garrisoning. Smaller communities will likely mean a smaller number of sleepers. Hopefully, their fellow citizens will be able to overcome them with little difficulty. As such, I recommend a tactical deployment of our military forces to all inhabited areas of the kingdom. Battalion-strength groups for the larger cities such as Manehattan, company to platoon-strength for the towns."

Ryegate was already standing, his tone one of incredulous anger. "General, you cannot be serious! Spreading our forces across Equestria in response to a threat that we have no means of tracking? They'll be cut off, vulnerable!"

Cascade stood his ground, voice wire-taut. "And what do you suggest?"

"A full entrenchment around Canterlot. Priority will be given to maintaining a defense of the city and protection for the princess. If these sleepers are truly under Nightmare's control, it's likely that they'll converge on the city as soon as they're enthralled."

Commotion erupted around the table, voices echoing throughout the chamber. Celestia raised a hoof, and gradually the storm subsided.

"So your grand strategy is to bunker down and wait for the worst," Cascade's face was dark with frustration. "Limiting our strategic options, abandoning the majority of our people… not to mention that this would essentially be putting all of our eggs in one basket, where an unknown amount of those eggs might suddenly explode!"

"With our entire force present, an invasion or internal attack would be quickly neutralized," Ryegate argued. "And from there, they could immediately be redirected to assist in defeating Nightmare Moon."

"Assist in defea… General, we could throw every last soldier we had into the fray, and at best they'd serve only as a temporary distraction! You've never seen alicorn magic at its fullest, have you? It is far beyond anything a unicorn can produce; think of a campfire compared to a forest fire! I guarantee that if any troops face Nightmare Moon, they will die immediately."

"Enough." The voice cut through the air, silencing the two immediately.

Celestia stood. Recognizing the gesture, the council immediately followed suit.

"Generals, you are to immediately begin collaborating on a comprehensive plan for a wide-scale defensive deployment across the kingdom. I hereby command and authorize you to do everything in your power to preserve and protect the citizenry and property of Equestria." She leveled her gaze at Ryegate. "I will not renege on this. Every town and city will be protected. I don't care how it is done, but it WILL be done. I've no intention of opening the front door to the wolves while a select few of us hide upstairs."

She turned to the rest of the table. "All other ponies will see to regional preparations. At this time, they are to be touted as contingencies for natural disasters. Ensure that preparations exist for complete evacuation and relocation of the populace. Should the worst occur, we may have to abandon the cities at a moment's notice."

"We have fourteen years," she concluded. "We will prepare as best we can. Work cautiously, do nothing to spread panic. I would prefer this be kept out of public knowledge for as long as feasibly possible." She turned and began to ascend the staircase.

"Princess, where are you going," somepony called from below.

She smiled to herself. "Just going to check on the Elements."


The castle had certainly seen better days. Celestia walked silently through the ruins, her mind overlaying the rubble with memories of its former grandeur. There was nowhere in Equestria that provided such stark evidence of the ravages of time. How long had it been since these halls had rung with laughter and life? How many years had it taken since the abandonment before the stone began to crumble, the furniture to rot? It was almost unreal to look upon these collapsed walls and faded rooms and remember what they once were.

Finally she came to the main ballroom. The stone columns had toppled and broken, the windows were cracked and opaque with dust, and tangled vines snaked their way over the floor. For a long while she stood motionless at the room's entrance, trying to picture how it once looked. Would she and her sister be here still, if jealousy had not poisoned Luna's heart? She tried to think of what was, and what could have been, but the debris and wreckage were impossible to ignore, and so she lifted her gaze to what she had come for.

Encircled around a dais were the Elements of Harmony. The six gems hovered above their pedestals, immune to the slow decay of the world around them. Their glow lit up the room, brighter than any stars on even the clearest of nights. The knowledge of her task made their glow seem more ominous than comforting, and they cast a sickly light over the walls and floor.

Celestia stood and stared. She had not been here once since that day. She had made herself never come back, and now that she had returned, she desperately wanted to feel something, to hear something, as if some feeling of inspiration or assurance would emerge from the gloom.

She felt nothing.

She heard nothing.

Stepping onto the dais, she let her eyes linger on the world's only hope. Even if many believed it to be simple legend, all of Equestria had at one point heard of their power. Yet none but Celestia knew that they promised only a short reprieve.

The Elements were losing strength, and in their current state, they could never truly defeat Nightmare Moon. They couldn't even defeat her a thousand years ago. Celestia had been horrified to discover that their total power was too diminished to purge the corrupt magic from Luna's body. Instead, the most she had been capable of was draining her sister's power and exiling her from the kingdom.

Now, the Elements were even weaker than before. Would they even stand a chance?

She knew of only one way, but it carried a terrible risk.

Originally, their power came from the six ponies who created them. Paragons of their kind, they personified the virtues of loyalty, generosity, laughter, kindness, honesty, and magic. They had created the Elements specifically for the alicorn sisters, so that the love and faith of ponykind would always be at their call.

But that power was almost gone, now. If there was to be any chance of saving Luna, the Elements had to be recharged.

Somewhere out there were six ponies who embodied the virtues of the Elements. They were the only ones who could restore them. The problem lay in finding them.

Aside from bringing the gems into contact with everypony in the land, her only option was to completely release the remaining power of the Elements and disperse it into Equestria. Removed from their connection to the respective gems, each one's power would be immediately drawn into its destined bearer. With the bond thus established, the chosen six would simply have to make contact with the gems to return them to their former glory.

But there was so much that could go wrong… and if she went forward, there would be no going back. Dispersing the Elements would render them inert until the new bearers restored them. Were she unable to locate them, or they proved incapable of bonding, she would be left with nothing but six useless stones. Even if they were restored, her connection with them would be severed. She would never wield their power again.

She didn't have to do this. Even if the Elements were weakened, they might still have the strength to stave off her sister. Perhaps not for a thousand years, perhaps not even for a hundred… but it would buy them more time.

No, that would be unfair to Luna, unfair to future generations who might suffer if she delayed the inevitable.

'But if I continue, and my plan fails, all might be lost; WILL be lost.'

But if she did not… it was only a matter of time.

She had to do it. It was their only chance.

Celestia lowered her head. "My little ponies, please forgive me if I'm wrong," she whispered.

Her horn flared with light, and her magical aura engulfed the six gemstones. The Elements seemed to draw inward, as if trying to prevent their magic from being siphoned. Celestia concentrated, and the light and color was pulled out of the stones. Dull and gray, the Elements shrank into orbs, with only the inscription of their original form to differentiate them.

She raised her head, watching as the multicolored aura swirled above her. The colors broke apart with a flash, each of the individual hues rocketing off in a different direction.

Looking back at the orbs, Celestia could see that streams of magic still drifted out of their surfaces. It would take some time before their energy was completely drained. Until then, the balance of Harmony was broken. But once the last of their power transferred to the new bearers, the balance would be restored, the event announced with some wondrous natural phenomenon. She only hoped it would occur in time.

Out in the night, the remnants of the Elements streaked off towards their destinations, to forever change the lives of six young fillies… and one unborn dragon.


Safe in the dark, warm confines of his egg, Alduin was content.

Were he capable of conscious thought, he would have found it to be a strange and alien sensation. Not a great surprise, considering his entire life had been a whirlwind of battle and bloodshed. The dragon himself would be the first to admit that.

In truth he had experienced such blissful nothingness once before, and in a strange coincidence, it had been on the verge of his previous birth.

There had been a time, though he could no longer remember, when stasis encompassed all of existence. Before the first spirits sacrificed themselves to form the Earth Bones, before Magnus punched a hole in Oblivion to create the sun, all was still.

Nothing lived. Nothing changed. Time itself was nonexistent. The universe was dead.

All that ended when chaos itself stirred in the bleak edge of the cosmos. Sithis reached out across the void, inert matter shuddering into motion at the touch. Harmony vanished as the interstellar medium began to churn and thicken. The very essence of creation was at work; matter gained the strength to attract and contain itself, to build and develop further.

At one particular space in the blackness, that attraction was already at work. A billion particles drifted together, their combined mass clinging and expanding into a shapeless cloud of matter.

It was still small; still weak. While it continued to form in the darkness, countless others were doing the same. Throughout the expanse, eddies merged and coalesced, whipping rapidly through the darkness as a gigantic whirlpool of mass outgrew its smaller brethren.

The smaller cloud remained at a distance, safe from the pull of the whirlpool's axis. Its growth slowed now, only a few molecules at a time. What little it had attained was growing closer, compressing the loosely orbiting particles into a single, solid object.

There was no way of knowing how long the process lasted. It may have been minutes, it may have been millennia. But for a time, the nameless, formless spirit drifted in peace.

When the beginning came, it was swift and sudden. In the blink of an eye, the vast center of the whirlpool collapsed. A hellish, burning light flared in the void, incinerating the many spirits still pulled towards its terrible heat. A violent wind flared around the new light, gathering up the broken spirits and embryonic deities and hurling them into the darkness.

The light dimmed only slightly, a fiery shape emerging from the fading corona: a long serpentine neck, billowing wings, a lithe, powerful body. Its maw stretched wide, and a deafening roar cracked the silence. The first of the gods had awoken.

Akatosh opened his eyes and gazed out upon the gulfs. His thoughts took shape, and creation buckled to his whims. Time was created, a steady, linear progression that brought regularity to a chaotic universe.

Across the void, lights flared and danced like embers thrown from a firepit. With the ordering of existence, the growing forms took shape and life, spirits and deities filling the once empty plane. Aedra and Daedra sprang into being, lesser et'ada gradually forming in their wake.

It hardly noticed. With its proximity to Akatosh, it had almost burnt away in the fury of the god's birth. The shreds of a primeval intelligence sought out the greater presence, futilely trying to recover its floundering strength. In compassion, Akatosh took the dying spirit in his claws and infused it with his very essence. The formless mass twisted and grew, taking a shape akin to that of its father.

Finally, a great black dragon opened his eyes, and Alduin was born. Given life, given thought, he would never again know calm.

Until now.

Stripped of his consciousness, sealed within his egg, he floated in a quiet, endless vacuum. He no longer remembered the agony of the Dragonrend, or the sting of Odahviing's betrayal. Here, he slept in a soft and dreamless slumber, forgetting the echoes of his many pains and regrets. Here, he could be at peace… but not forever.

Nothing lasts forever.


My apologies to anyone who might've been kept waiting by the lateness of this chapter. Carpal Tunnel Syndrome's pretty much derailed my typing speed, but hopefully the length of the chapter will make up for any tardiness.

Hope everyone enjoys! Let me know what you think.