Isolation
A Study
“Uhm...oh? Did'st I activate the device?” The sounds of rustling and the occasional soft clang of metal horseshoes against stone could be heard, “Ach...I think I did.” There was a sigh, and it is clear that the voice is female in nature,
“Well...I've finally gotten through all those voice and language lessons our dearest sister didst require,” there's a hint of something snide in the word 'dearest', but only slight. “But, I do suppose she wasn't expecting me to take up a log...I suppose that, if somepony were ever should find this,” another sigh, “they hear the story. The true story. My story.”
Luna (the Moon, not the Princess) has been the subject of much speculation and controversy over the years. It is known by scholars (and now the general public) that the Moon itself is a dense hunk of rock sitting pretty several hundred thousand kilometres from the planet of Equestria. We also know that the Moon is in a stable orbit around the planet, helped along and stabilized by the magical nudges and manipulations of the alicorn princess Luna, whose incredible magical talents were heretofore unmatched, even by the resident Element of Magic, the now-Princess Twilight Sparkle.. Modern pony science has not, alas, yet landed a pony on the moon, or even a magically powered rover.
It has, however, sent satellites into orbit around the Moon and returned pictures of the heretofore unknown 'dark side'. We have also set stationary probes down onto the surface, and with the assistance of some of the top researchers in Equestria, have discovered several things about the surface of the Moon. It is a dark, airless place, uninhabited and uninhabitable. The pressure differential is greater than that at the bottom of the deepest ocean in Equestria: an unshielded pony would implode, and then explode in a shower of frozen gore within seconds of exposure. Temperatures on the dark side of the Moon can dive down into the negative hundreds of degrees, whilst the side illuminated by the Sun have recorded temperatures well into the positive hundreds of degrees.
Anything living, and any future structures or equipment, will have to be built in order to withstood the wildly varying temperatures on the Moon: a frozen wasteland on the other, and a blast furnace on the other side. In its' current state, without equiforming, the Moon as we know it is utterly incapable of supporting equinoid life.
“My time on the Moon was...a night without end. It was a terror beyond description, but for the sake of those who must ask, I will attempt to describe it. Firstly...it is a lonely place. There is nothing but rock, dust, and emptiness. There is no life, and there can never be life. If it were not for my immortality, the lack of air to breathe would have ended mine life post-haste.” The voice in the recording had begun to shudder and waver, but once a rhythm had been established, continued in a monotone. “The Moon is also very large. The entire Equestrian nation could easily be resettled onto the Moon, if it had an atmosphere. The idea that I cannot stress enough is that there is nothing else. For a thousand years, I was taunted by the view of the planet from which I had been stricken from, cast aside once I had become...an upstart. It was not until my...” The voice trails off, and there are faint voices in the background. These continue for all of five minutes, whereas the voice returns. “...where was I? If only we...I could be left alone. It was not until the return to Equestria that I was able to assert control of my magic: it took much effort to simply be comfortable.” There is another sharp intake of breath, and an exhalation. “There is nothing like being alone. Completely, and utterly, alone. I started to believe that there were others: figments of my imagination. Ponies I had known in my time in Equestria, before my...departure.” There is some shuffling of papers, and the scratch of quill upon vellum. “Celestia insist that I try and socialize with the ponies of the Royal Court, involve myself with matters of state...but I find that I cannot seem to work my way into it.” There is another segment of muffled voices, this time, it is clear that there is some sort of argument: but it is equally clear that there is only one voice. “...I don't know why,” the voice on the recording continues. “I brooded, I planned, I plotted evil for a thousand years and more, plotting to return myself to the Equestrian nation and bring forth that which I had worked so heedlessly, so selflessly, to bring....but it was all for naught. Then and now,” the voice slips once more into the monotone from before, “all of the effort put into weaving the night sky from nothing is...is nothing!” There is a crash and splintering of wood, along with the smashing sound of ceramics. “My...our dear sister,” there is a clear emphasis on the word 'our', “has claimed to have bettered herself: to have missed me whilst I was imprisoned, exiled, to that airless body. My body is the epitome of perfection, in her image, so I remain unscathed, unwounded from every agonizing instant where my body was trying to tear itself apart!”
Very limited experimentation has been done, but the physical effects of 'hard' vacuum on a living body is terrifying to behold. The common conception is that the air we breath and move through is weightless: this is very, very wrong. It is as if the air we move through is at the bottom of an ocean: of air. It is a constant pressure to every inch of the pony body, without with, tissues would fail and vessels would rupture. The sudden loss of this pressure would first result in the pressure inside the body escaping, an implosion, and then the sudden lack of it would cause the subject in question to explode.
“...eventually, I adapted. I changed, where the pain became something normal.” There is a harsh, chopped laugh. “I have to have an entourage follow me specifically, because the sudden absence of this pain has inured us to pain of lesser forms: thanks to my imprisonment, I cannot notice the pain of a cut, or a bruise, or even a broken limb. I even have to be reminded to breathe: after so long on the moon, I developed an enchantment that would simply eliminate the need for myself to do so. It is 'unnerving' to members of the Court, so I must be reminded to do it, like some simpleton!” There is a grunt of exertion, and shortly thereafter there is another smash of crockery against stone. Another muffled, but quite loud, argument begins and ends a good forty seconds after it began. Then, unexpectedly, there is the sound of sobbing. “...I don't even know what I am anymore...”
The study of psychology and its' physical relation to the neurochemical and electrochemical response patterns in the pony brain is still a relatively new field. It is understood that, after a constant exposure, the chemical and electrical pathways both will rewrite themselves in order to function more effectively. This is most present in ponies who are victims of traumatic head injuries: the brain of the subject in question will, after a period of time, have developed what can be best described as 'alternate pathways' around the irreparably damaged portions of tissue. This amazing ability is present in all three sub-species of ponykind, but is most notable in earth ponies. The question, of course, is raised here: with the remarkable healing capacities of alicorns, what, if any, 'remapping' of brain tissue would be present? What exactly would a constant, consistent exposure to a specific set of circumstances effect be on the brain of an alicorn?
“I am no longer sure of who I am, or what I even am to do with ourselves any further.” There is a choking noise, but it is unidentifiable further. “We were shown by Princess Sparkle...well, she was simply Twilight Sparkle then, just exactly how far society has come and how far things have changed since our return. Celestia has had the advantage of changing with the times, moving with the flow and the ebb of time and society. We, instead, have been thrust into a thousand years of change...we must relearn everything, from speaking to every form of science and magic.”
“Where we were once the best of the best, we are now nothing more than a mere foal. And there is some that is simply incomprehensible. We know well it has been under the guise of 'relieving tension', but...the princesses Cadence and Sparkle alike have been taking over more and more of our duties. The only thing of which it is seemed that we are still capable is the raising and the lowering of the Moon, which is a matter of manipulation through space, and has even been performed the other three Princesses together and alone upon different occasions.” The voice trails off, and the voice itself is silent for several minutes; but there is much scuffing of chairs, and the rough scrape of rope on rope, and the static interference caused by powerful magic. “It is midwinter, now, and we can just see the lights of the town of Ponyville in the distance. They wink in and out, sometimes as if they were never there.” The tape continues on for another minute in relative silence.
“I have prepared a rope with spells learned in the guarded section of Celestia's library. There are spells there more powerful than any other, powerful enough to end lives of even our greatest heroes. Celestia, it seems, had been stockpiling them ever since my banishment, ostensibly to keep them out of the hooves of those whom would wish harm with them. Tis' a lie, however. We know exactly what Celestia had been planning with said spells.” There is the creak of aged hinges, and a sudden burst of static as what is most likely wind blown across the microphone. The harsh scraping of rope upon rope is once against brought near to the receiver, and the creak of hinges. The noises in the log indicate that the widow is being held open by the rope. There is the clop of bare hooves upon wet stone, amidst the screams of the wind and snow.
“We, the Princess Luna, Guardian of the Night, Purveyor of the Dark, Bringer of Dreams, do hereby renounce my position as Princess, and do abdicate my position official to Princess Twilight Sparkle.” There is a minute of nothing but wind-produced static. “...I'm sorry.”
This audio recording was found upon the table in the private chambers of the late Princess Luna, alongside with two pairs of neatly set shoes, an unworn wedding dress, tiara, and necklace, alongside a scrap of vellum, weighted down with a small paperweight. The recording, dress, and other paraphernalia were discovered amidst clippings of several dozen recent reports on medical and astronomical research, some of which are arranged above. The body of Princess Luna was recovered from the canyon beneath the castle approximately sixteen hours before the audio log and clothing were discovered.
