The Testament of Divine Sign: {{{ In the wake of Pious Charge's passing, the election conclave has come and gone and I am the new Primequate. I cannot say that this promotion is a very welcome one. Perhaps that, however, is precisely why I was elected. Few would want to be saddled with the weight of leading our herd in these dark days. Fewer still would want the responsibility for facing the flame which lives in the Stone, as the Primequate must. Is it any wonder I was chosen, if it means the other electors will not have to face such things? I sense that I may be the sacrificial melon here, or perhaps the one pony who naively stood still when everypony else stepped backward. But enough. I must not think badly of them, and I must not think of myself and my own comforts, but only of one thing: how will I find the strength to rise to these challenges? How can I be a good Primequate, and how can I be a good archmage? Pious was a great leader and a strong stallion. How can I shoulder the burdens of one so great as he? This is what I must discover. Celestia help me and fill me with light enough to lead the way. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Despite our efforts, the forest continues to expand. Sunshine continues sending what crews of workers they can spare to knock down the crystals where they crop up too near the roads, but it is hard work and we have cared for many who were injured in that duty. We also remove them from our own fields now. Where the soil is dry or stony, they seem to crop up here and there, small at first but growing into clusters and rapidly increasing in size if not removed quickly. So far we have been vigilant, but it is laborious and they spring back up all too quickly. The question of how to dispose of them is vexing as well. Intense heat seems to able to degrade them well enough to 'kill' them (if alive they are) and prevent any further growth, but doing so by conventional fire takes too much fuel and heating by magic takes great effort. Some days it feels as if I spend the bulk of my time just channeling incineration spells. At least it is the one good application that the more troubling proclivities of the Sunstone can be put to. Worse, a mysterious new disease has appeared in some of the workers. Holes appear in the hooves, slowly spreading up the limbs and into the organs. Some cases progress rapidly, and some very slowly, but never does it remit or diminish, however long the afflicted may linger on. The ponies of Sunshine live in fear of it lately. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Year by year, cases of this hoof decay increase. Clever Draught complains that she can make no progress against it, try as she might, even with the freedom I have given her to experiment with the alchemical stores. She has made one observation she believes might be a key, however: the sourest, bitterest, and most sorrowful of ponies are the ones least likely to be infected, and when they are, they are also the ones in which the infestation spreads the most slowly. Conversely, the most loving of ponies are the most easily and quickly struck down. I don't know if finding a factor that makes a difference should give us hope, or plunge us into greater despair that it only means that the best among us are struck hardest. What can we do in the face of this blight? ---------------------------------------------------------------------- The crystal forest continues to grow, and the town of Sunshine continues to strain to hold it off. In these times, now that things are difficult, the ponies lose their faith, just when they need it the most. Such is the cruel irony of tests of the spirit; the harsher the test, the less inclined the spirit is to steel itself to pass. What else could I do in such a crisis of faith but lead my people to find that steel within themselves, to set an example for all ponies, become something for them to follow no matter how difficult it becomes? I have devised a new vow, one never to leave this abbey until the return of Celestia or her successor! Whether this be in flesh or in spirit, it matters not - the importance of the thing is to show the conviction, the willingness to stake our fates on our faith and our knowledge of her return. I was first to take this vow, hoping that even if I was the sole example, still that might be enough to inspire others to rekindled faith. But I may have overshot the mark, for others asked to follow, and to those I thought pure enough of heart to be sincere and unwavering, I administered it. May this new zeal be the weapon we need to conquer the forest and outlast the dark times until the return of the Sun! ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Bitterberry has devised a plan to strike at the expanding crystal forest to the east. It is the kind of desperate measure to which I would not usually assent, given what it requires us to do, but perhaps this is the only right and proper solution; not only the light but the darkness, too, is a tool which can be made to serve at need, as Luna's wise example shows. Perhaps we have nelgected her lessons for too long. The plan is in essence to poison the forest. As it feeds on love, we have found that so too does it absorb all other emotions in some quantity. The forest survives by taking in love, hope, happiness, and all other manner of positive emotions. Conversely, Bitterberry has found that a sample given forced infusions of the negative emotions will, in time, crumble and die. The answer, then, seems obvious. But how to poison an entire forest? This is where I hesitate, for we have the means in the Sunstone to channel the vast magics required, but in doing so, we and even the land itself will pay a terrible price. But what choice do we have? ---------------------------------------------------------------------- It is done. The spell is cast, the forest to the east is cursed. The ritual was one I hope never to repeat - every monk was gathered, and all of our anger, hatred, sorrows, fears, regrets, these were the things we dwelled upon and allowed to fill us. It was a truly awful feeling. Our tears, our wailing, our curses, our gnashing of teeth and bitter recriminations against cruel fate... all of us in such misery, resonating and spilling out across the land! After the strain of such a thing, I have sent everypony into solitary retreat for a time, so that they may all focus their thoughts on the benevolent Sun and set to the task of healing their minds and hearts. May Celestia forgive me for what I have put them through, and may the darkness I have asked them to live be turned to something good in showing us the means to be rid of this terrible forest at last. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- We tried. At least I can say we tried. But we cannot stop the forest. Not for all our stubborn vows to remain behind, not for all our cursing, not for any other clever trick we have yet devised. The forest does not stop advancing, and we cannot stop retreating in the face of it. Most of us have the rot in the hooves now. Excision of some of the worst-affected tissues seems to help, sometimes, though it comes at the cost of great pain. Most elect to avoid such procedures, for they are not a cure and at least the rot itself goes numb. The last of us who was not in Remaining and still unaffected by the hoofrot was Spring Rains, the aged but still strong earth-zony. In the interests of being merciful to her, I saw no other way; I administered a dispensation releasing her from her monastic vows and told her that she should flee the West of Yore to wherever is still green in the East. Though she protested, bless her good heart, I ordered her off anyway, until at last she ceased arguing and departed. I told her to look to New Canterlot. The last I have heard, they are still holding out well. She departed with a sad spirit, which is just as well, for I hope this sadness may protect her from the dangers of the crystal forest she must pass perilously close to on her way. There is no path away from Sunshine now that is not clogged with the wretched stuff. And with her departure... we are alone. The last of us here are all in Remaining, and as the forest closes in, we can do nothing but hope against all odds for Celestia's return as we wait our turns for our bodies to fail, and then wait again as our shades wander the land. My greatest fear is not death. My greatest fear is never being allowed to die. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- The Song of the History of the World: The darkness in the prison moon Is sealed by the sun Walking alone, the ages pass She is the only one The purple piper plays her tune How her power does sing! Four great mages rule the world As it awaits the crystal king! The meddler gazes far and wide And sees the horrid beast Her dark fortress falls to fate And she becomes the feast Puppetmasters in plain sight Abomination things! Four great mages lose the world As it awaits the crystal king! Dark dragon seethes and curses all Before he dies in vain The rains stop and the oceans dry The dust begins its reign And now at last the time has come! The broken sun will sing And summon back the fire witch To herald the burning king! fire all is fire this dying world, merely kindling for the inferno, a fallow field for the growing of the crystal, to clear the way for the final inferno we try to hold it off, but what hope is there? ---------------------------------------------------------------------- the crystals close in all the others have fled or spend their days fighting the ever-spreading crystal until we collapse from exhaustion not a single one of us is left now who is free of the hoof decay these cursed crystals bring it is time, I fear, to die soon... but there will be no true death for those of us who remain in this terrible place no, not even that peace for us we were such fools and I the greatest fool of all, by leading us to this fate Celestia does not return, not even in our darkest hour of need her stone, overtaken by the fire what hope is there? none none at all we are trapped here... forever - Divine Sign, the 4th and last Primequate of Sunshine }}} Scrawled in the back cover of the Testament: {{{ Luna, moon-mother of the night, bring us not terror in the dark but the peace of sleep. Bring us sweet dreams, renewing the hope of a happy tomorrow. Celestia, sun-mother of the day, bring us not the oppression of heat but the joy of warmth. Bring us the light and the showering of gentle rains, remewing the hope of continued life. }}}