*Once I simply thought, that we could rise above,

All the trials that we might face together

But this dark descent, consumed the one I love,

Return to me, before this brings the end!*

The morning sun dappled over the forlorn Empire, and King Sombra awoke to find the Sisters Sovereign knocking at his door. Myth says he hadn’t slept at all.

Dawn broke cold and desolate, as Celestia’s light peered through clouds and snow. The fight that roused the Empire was short, but as nasty an affair as any in Equestrian history: the ponies of the Royal Guards clashed against Sombra’s loyalists in a bloody waltz, while above the Royal Sisters took to the sky, cloaked in power and glory and sorrow. The Elements of Harmony had not been wielded for decades, for the peace of the time left no need for them. Now they were held by the Sisters’ magic, three and three, stirring to their summons. Below, the self proclaimed King of Crystal and Shadow approached, fearless to face his fate; Sombra’s eyes glowed a sickly violet, and his crimson horn shone a startling red, hungry for divine blood.

“Yield, and you will all know of the Sun and the Moon’s mercy,” Queen Celestia called out, her broad soaring wings beating away the snow and stirring dust. “Yield so that your life might be spared, and your people pardoned.” Her Radiance hovered over the balcony where the Usurper listened to her call. “Repent, so that the Elements may restore the wrongs you have afflicted upon the Crystal Empire. Cast aside your corrupted crown, you who call yourself king.” But as the command rang out, her voice trembled. The Goddess of the Sun had long given up on her fool’s hope to recover what she had lost, and yet, and yet, and yet… it was his eyes that pierced through her now.

“Celestia,” Sombra said simply, and in that moment his voice dispelled the shadow that had taken root around it. The sound elevated sweet and crisp through the morning air, and the queen ached to hear it. “I’ve been waiting, Celestia,” the king said, and to the Firstborn Alicorn her name had never sounded so sweet. It sounded like foalhood memories, like silver bells, like sky-blue forget-me-nots, and like the love the Universe denied her once. The stallion on the balcony stepped forward, and the Golden Queen descended on wings of pale white, wary as only those who have been hurt once can be. But she came all the same, drawn by the promise of resolution, of peace, of the happy ending fairytales of old promised the girl she had been.

The Queen was so tired. Since time immemorial ponykind had been at war, for an eternity with itself and another with the force of chaos bent on making their existence a paradox. The violence of her death and rebirth heralded her first act as Goddess; to turn Discord to stone, bathed in flame. And as she had dropped down to the earth and looked down at her blazing hooves, Celestia had decided that her kingdom would be rid of war for as long as she drew breath. She wanted to rest, to plant trees and see them grow…To fill her land with plump stallions and laughing children, who cheered to see her fly by. And that she’d had, for five blessed centuries, the longest summer her good people had known.

But it had all crumbled down one swift, horrible stroke, and now her love was no more and Amore was gone and Luna had never been so distant, and just when did things get so fucked up? They’d marched on the Empire for ten days, and each night her sweet Luna would lay waste to villages on the wrong side of the war, yet no matter how tall the piles of corpses it never seemed to satisfy her. It reminded Celestia of her years as a common soldier, as a common pony, joining the endless ranks against Discord, fighting for this leader or the other and just wondering whether the war or her life would end first. She did not want the Alicorns bestowing the violence they were born to end.

And so did the sun sovereign descend from the sky, to meet her king fallen from grace eye to eye, not as the immortal ruler she was, but as the pony she’d been. The dark stallion leaned in and basked in her warmth, lifting a gunmetal-clad hoof to gently cup her cheek. “Celestia,” Sombra said, voice soft and unmeasurably tender, “you poor, sweet fool.” The queen’s great wings flapped, jerking her back, but the king’s dark magic was on her and was pulling her in and his eyes flashed a terrible green and

Celestia saw the world end.