A Millennium of Solitude

by DSNesmith

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Nightmare Moon, Princess Luna
Length: 16195

For three hundred sixty-five thousand days, Nightmare Moon is alone.

In what was supposed to be her moment of triumph, Nightmare Moon has lost everything. Banished by her sister and the Elements of Harmony, she finds herself alone on the very moon she created.

Utterly alone.

Published 2013-09-29 22:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-09-29 22:50:02 UTC

Day One

Day 1
I am Nightmare Moon. I am the Queen of the Stars, the Lady of the Ether, the ruler of the heavens, the sovereign of the void. I am the night.

Celestia thinks this is over. She thinks she's won, thinks the Elements can hold me in her prison; thinks that I will quietly accept her judgment like so many before me. But her time has come to an end, while mine is just beginning.

I will free myself. And I will take what is mine.

Day 2
Today I began rattling the bars of my prison. The atmosphere here is too thin to fly very high, and it takes a great deal of effort to even lift myself off of the ground. The beating of my wings kicked up a cloud of choking white dust, making my eyes burn and my throat feel sore. I've given up on flight for now. My path home lies through magic.

But that may take time. Though I am stronger now than I ever was as Princess Luna, my battle with Celestia has left me weak. I can barely summon enough magical energy to lift a pebble, let alone open a bridge back to Equestria through the fabric of reality. I must rest for at least another day before my return. I have used the opportunity to take stock of my situation.

When Celestia tore open a bridge with the Elements, I did not know where it would lead. In truth, I doubt she knew either; the Elements have always been difficult to control. Still, the irony is palpable—she has imprisoned me in the one place in the universe where I have complete control. I created the moon, and I am still its master. This vast, white sphere is a temple to me, and Celestia has sent me straight to the heart of my power. When I return to reclaim my throne, I'll be sure to thank her.

Day 3
The thought of Celestia raising the moon in my absence makes me seethe. I know she is, for I can see the Earth spinning above me, far away over the horizon. It looks so small from here, a pale blue marble in the empty void.

Days and nights are different here, thanks to my orbit about the planet. The harsh sunlight blasts the landscape for fourteen Equestrian days before falling behind the horizon, followed by a freezing night that lasts equally long. I am measuring the time in rotations of the Earth above, to keep track of things back home.

The air here is thin and difficult to breathe. The sunlight scatters blue, just as it does on Earth, but the color is so faint it is nearly indistinguishable from the black of night. Once, long ago in eons forgotten by mortal races, I thought to create life here. I got as far as stimulating some minor volcanic activity, forming what little atmosphere there is here, before Celestia convinced me to rule on Earth with her.

As if anyone could rule with Celestia.

The volcanoes have long ceased. The moon has no geological activity, no changes except the occasional meteoric impact. Its surface is dotted by millions of craters. It has not changed in any meaningful way since its creation, in the beginning of time.

The thin air is giving me more problems than breathing. There is little to absorb the deadly rays of my sister's sun. When I arrived, I walked about without the atmosphere's protection, and my black coat is now blistered and burned. The pain is excruciating, worse than any sunburn I have had before.

My immortal form heals quickly by equine standards, but I have no desire to cause myself more pain. I have spent most of the last few days in the shelter of a house-sized crater. The darkness down here is colder than the depths of Earth's deepest oceans, but it is better than the alternative.

Day 4
Something is wrong.

I have been here for four long days, but I still feel as weak as I did upon arriving. Weaker, in fact. It's as though my magic is slipping away from me. I don't understand it; I should be more powerful here than anywhere else, yet I remain infuriatingly helpless. Perhaps more time is needed.

At least I have the view. And my sunburned neck and back are healing fast; in a week the blisters will be little more than angry red splotches. I can survive this brief, humiliating imprisonment, but I must be smarter about it.

Day 7
My magic…

My magic is not coming back. The Elements must have affected my connection to the moon, there is no other explanation. I am beyond fear, beyond doubt, and yet… I cannot deny, this causes me great unease.

No matter. Once I return to the Earth, my power will come rushing back. I only need enough magic to open the bridge. I can siphon the energies of crystals, gems, any magical detritus left over from the moon's creation. There must surely be a million tons of magical rock spread around the lunar surface. It will take a great deal of effort, and I will have to restrict my search to the long lunar nights, until I can find some way to protect myself from the sunlight, but it can be done.

Day 10
I have never felt such thirst. Ten days without food or water are beginning to take their toll. I have no hope of finding food; lunar dust cannot support life, and the sun would kill any plants before they could grow. Water, however, may be here in abundance, hidden in crevices and under the lips of craters like this one, where the sun's light never reaches. I must search for it today, even at the risk of further exposure to the sunlight. If I don't find water soon, I'll be too dehydrated to search for magic to siphon.

Day 11
Success! Three kilometers from my starting position, I came to the edge of a vast, smooth expanse of white dust and rock—I believe it's one of the maria, the great gray plains visible even from Equestria, remnants of long-dead volcanic flows. I don't know how far it extends past the horizon.

I'm a mare in a mare. How droll.

Whatever it is, it matters little. Near the beginning of the plain I found a crater, much larger than the one I have hidden in for days, that had a large pool of ice inside its shadowy depths. Dehydration will not be a concern.

Day 12
I feel like an idiot. I am not yet used to the magical restrictions of my prison. I cannot melt the ice with my horn, and there is nothing to burn for heat. All the water I could ever need, locked behind a wall of ice. My tongue feels as dry as the San Palomino desert. My stomach growls every few minutes. I will have to ignore it and power through until I can free myself.

I pass the time thinking of ways to make my sister suffer these same indignities. Perhaps I'll banish her to the sun. We'll see how she likes being trapped in her own creation.

Day 14
Defeated again. I broke off chunks of ice and pulled them into the sunlight. They melted quickly under the radiant energy, but in this low atmosphere the water boiled away almost instantly. I tried again and again, so much that I burned myself in the sunlight, but I was never able to get a drink.

Even prisoners are supposed to be fed.

Day 15
The sun has set. The air is too thin to create any rosy colors in the sky. The sunlight simply vanished, like a light being turned off.

I have fourteen days to search for magic before it returns. Hopefully by then, I will have thought of a way to walk in the daylight without burning. I must begin immediately, before the hunger overcomes me.

Day 18
So hungry. I can hardly think. My nose and mouth are filled with dust, my eyes sting no matter how much I blink, and the discomfort in my stomach has turned into outright pain. No magic yet. Must keep looking.

Day 21
Need food. Need food. Need food. Need food.

Day 22
Food water food water food so hungry

Day 23
stomach hurts please need food someone anyone food

Day 24
I don't know if I can do this anymore.

Today, in desperation, I fell into the dust and shoveled it into my mouth. I swallowed a hoofful, feeling it slide down my throat like sandpaper.

Realizing what I had done, I… I cried, as I have not done since leaving my old life behind. I, the mighty Nightmare Moon, lay in the dust and wept like a foal.

Then I threw up.

I could only crawl a few meters before the hunger pains became too great, and once more I ate the dust. It feels like lead in my stomach, but at least the pain is gone.

I cannot digest it. I feel ill, but the only alternative is letting myself go catatonic from the hunger. I don't know how long I can keep it down.

Day 25
About six hours.

On average.

Day 26
Why is this happening to me? I didn't—I don't deserve this, nopony deserves this. Except my demon of a sister. She did this to me.

I will hurt her for this. Badly.

Day 29
The sun is back. The first few rays peeked over the horizon today. It doesn't carve a straight arc across the sky, as it does on Earth; it cartwheels crazily through short, tight epicycles like it's following a loosely wound spring, shining death down onto the lunar surface. But I think I've found the answer. By rolling on the ground, I have coated myself in a thick layer of dust. The dust has a high albedo, most of the sunlight will reflect off and away from me. I hope.

Day 32
I eat dust three times a day to stop the hunger pains. I retch it back up after a few hours, then spend a few minutes struggling through the hunger before succumbing and eating more. I feel like a feral animal. But even animals don't eat dirt.

Day 35
The search for magical objects is helping me cope. I have not yet had any success, but the humiliation and pain of eating this disgusting gray silt is eased by the thought of returning home. Soon, I tell myself. Soon.

Day 44
I have searched over a dozen square kilometers without luck. No magic remains in these rocks, or in the dust that coats everything. It has bled away into the void over the ages, disappearing into nothingness. I must keep looking. I cannot give up.

Day 58
It's beautiful. An opaque, white crystal, about the size of a robin's egg, pulsing faintly with the feel of magic. When Celestia and I made the moon and the sun, some of the vast magical energies we expended were trapped inside the stellar dust as it collapsed into the celestial spheres. That residual energy is my ticket home.

I want to savor it for a little while. Victory always tastes sweeter after hardship.

Day 59
I siphoned the crystal's energy this morning. At least, I think it was morning. It's becoming harder to keep track of time in the endless blaze of sunlight.

I feel no different. The amount of magic in this leftover material is a pittance by anypony's standards, let alone the kind of magical reservoir I'll need to rip open a dimensional hole with. This grand plan of mine is starting to look more and more like a fool's hope.

Day 67
My search widens. I found another rough crystal three days past. It was little better than the other.

Thanks to the rotation of the moon, the Earth is always overhead. I can see it whenever I look up, silently floating in the void. It's so peaceful from here. No war, no strife, no pain…

But then, the moon looks beautiful too, from a distance.

Day 112
The days are bleeding together. I walk through the dust, looking for magic. I sleep. I wake. I eat dust. I search. I throw up. I sleep. There is no end in sight.

Day 152
I have decided to cross the mare. The Earth never sets from this side of the moon, so if I keep it to my right, I'll be heading east across the plain. If I have correctly estimated my position, then this mare is one of the smaller ones. Moving in any other direction, I will soon hit another, and have the same problem. Any primordial magical rocks were buried or melted by the ancient lava flows. I must find the older, rockier areas of the moon in order to gather energy.

Day 184
Perhaps I guessed wrong. The plains seem to go on forever. The sun passes overhead, baking me like an oven. During the lunar night, I bury myself in a shallow layer of dust to keep myself warm against the frigid air.

My dreams are filled with vengeance. I see myself tearing down my sister's castle, burning her city to the ground and laughing as the mortals bow to worship me. But every time I wake, the dream slips further away.

Day 236
Does this plain never end? The Earth sinks lower in the sky as I travel, but there is nothing to break up the vast expanses around me.

Day 255
In the distance, hope. I must walk faster.

Day 258
I can see mountains. Small ones, by Equestrian standards, but mountains nonetheless. It's difficult to tell how far away they are. A week? A month?

I haven't hurled up any dust for three days. I think my body's getting used to it.

Day 259
So much for getting used to it.

It hurts so much, I can barely think sometimes. I'm crying more often than I want to admit. Desperate for a drink, I tried licking the tears from my cheeks, but I ended up with more dust in my mouth than water.

Day 278
I have reached the end of the mare at last. At times, I have felt like giving up, collapsing into the dust and letting it cover me as the ages pass. But I cannot succumb. I must remain proud and strong, even as I debase myself to stave off the hunger and the pain. I am Nightmare Moon, and I will not be broken by this exile.

The mountains rise in the east, beckoning me toward them. There I will find larger deposits of magic, perhaps enough to return home and take my revenge.

But at this point, leaving here would be enough.

Day 340
I have been in the mountains for at least a week. To my dismay, the magic is as scant here as it was on the plain. I must continue searching.

Day 365
My exile has now lasted a full year. I can only wonder what Celestia thinks, up there on the Earth. She must know I intend to return. Is she preparing for my arrival, even now? Readying her defenses? Coming up with some mockery of a contingency plan?

Or, even more insultingly, she might not be doing anything. It would be just like her to write me off, consider me done and gone. That's what we did with Discord, after all.

Although… Discord never did escape.

He wasn't me. I am the night embodied, my power is more than enough to break my way out of this place. And then I'll destroy my sister's life like she has destroyed mine. We'll see if the ponies still love her when she's been gone for a hundred years. No, they'll care for me, then. Only me.

That's… that's all I wanted.

Day 396
Over a month in these mountains, and still nothing. I've decided to call them the Sunshine Mountains. The sun comes blazing over the horizon every four weeks, lighting up the mountains in sheets of white. The only color in my world now is the Earth, down low near the end of the sky. The blue of the oceans makes me think of water. I try not to look at it much.

Day 421
I had a dream last night. It wasn't one of the usual ones, with me standing victorious over a broken Celestia. I was walking in the Canterlot gardens at night, looking up at the stars, when I saw an apple tree. I reached up to pick one of the fruits, and bit into it. It was juicy, sweet, delicious…

I did not search far today. I can't stop thinking about the apple.

Day 446
I've grown to loathe these mountains. The terrain is difficult, even in the lower gravity, and the loose rocks are dangerous. Worse, there seems to be no magic left in this barren pile of rubble. I go to sleep exhausted every night. My dreams are filled with fruit, moist and fresh. Waking to eat more dust is worse than all the physical pain in the world.

Day 479
I fell today.

I was searching in the lower reaches of one of the higher mountains when I stepped on a loose patch of dust. It slid out from under me, and carried me along with it. The rocks and I tumbled down the mountainside and hit the ground hard. My right foreleg was caught under a boulder in the landslide. I managed to free myself after a few frantic minutes of digging, but my leg is bent at an odd angle, and can't support my weight. I can't tell if it's broken, or simply dislocated, but I have to fix it soon or it will heal badly.

Day 481
After a day, I determined that my metacarpal bone, the one between my knee and my hoof, was broken. Gritting my teeth, I wedged my hoof between a pair of heavy rocks. I bit down on a piece of flat, shale-like rock, and wrenched the bone back together. I have nothing to make a splint from, so I must hold the two fragments of the bone in place while they heal. A goddess's healing powers are not instant, but the process should only take days, not months.

I picked my location carefully. My broken leg is wedged sideways into the rocks, while I lie down beside them. I don't have to stand up, simply keep pressure on the leg to prevent it from moving. I don't know how long it will take.

Day 503
I believe the bone has healed, as best it will without proper medical treatment. I tried walking today, and while the leg is still a bit unstable, it can hold me up again.

One more debt to repay.

Day 560
Tomorrow I will leave the mountains. There is nothing here; no magic, no water, no food. I am tormented nightly by visions of fruit and vegetables, of vibrant colors and sounds. The only sound on the moon is the faint whisper of skittering dust, or the crunching of my hooves through the loose silt. I am beginning to lose hope of ever seeing my home again.

But I cannot give up. If I despair, then Celestia has won. And I will not allow that.

Day 673
Weeks and months of searching the lowlands past the mountains have produced dozens of rocks and gems, but they are merely drops in a very empty bucket.

I shouldn't have used a water metaphor. Even thinking about it—

Back to work.

Day 691
I've been working my way eastward, to the far side of the moon. The Earth is no longer visible, hidden behind the horizon.

Above, I can see all the summer constellations spread out before me. The great lion waits patiently, as ever. The snake coils behind the oak tree, looking down at me with his glowing blue eye. I wish I could go to them. I wish I could leave this place.

Day 721
How did it come to this? Celestia and I used to be so close, so tightly bound by bonds of blood and love, that we were two halves of a single being. She was always so serious, even before the Kingdom. I used to count every time I made her laugh as a victory.

But as the centuries passed, she took on more and more of the responsibilities of state. I felt more useless by the day, as even the commoners began to ignore me. They wanted audiences with Celestia, brought their requests and grievances to Celestia, sang songs and danced in praise of Celestia. The Summer Sun Celebration, a holiday in honor of my sister, and for me? Nothing.

It seemed… so unfair, so wrong. But as I repeat the words to myself, they sound empty. They sound… childish. Was the lack of a lunar holiday worth this? Were the opinions of a few million mortals worth cutting off my only family?

Yes. Yes, how could I think otherwise, even for a moment? All I have to do is remember that look on their faces when my sister strode out to raise the sun, that radiant, puppy-dog adoration. They would follow her anywhere. I wanted that. That unadulterated love, that uncompromising dedication.

But if I cannot have their love, I will have their fear.

Day 834
My plan has failed. There is not enough magic left on this dead rock to light a match, let alone open the way back home. I sit in the dusty wastes of the moon, bent low beneath the rays of the sun, at a loss. How long does Celestia intend to keep me here? How long must I suffer this punishment?

The thought has entered my mind that this sentence has no limit. The Elements are powerful magic, even for us. We could not wholly control them, even when we fought Discord, and when Celestia used them in her desperation she may not have known what they would do. Even if she wanted to release me, could she?

Day 998
Boredom has finally begun to set in. As the weeks roll past without change, I walk in aimless circles. My hooves drag through the endless dust, leaving dark tracks of upturned soil. I can keep the dust down for days at a time, now, but my stomach still swims uneasily at all hours. I thought I would be here for days, perhaps months. I am beginning to realize it will be far longer. Perhaps even a century.

Almost three years have passed, now. Three years since I last ate real food, or drank real wine. Three years since I heard the song of a bird, or saw the colors of a sunset, or felt the touch of another pony. Sometimes… sometimes I wrap my forelegs around myself and pretend someone is hugging me. I… I can't…

Day 1023
The silence has grown unbearable. I roam restlessly through day and night, searching for a project, for a purpose, for something beyond waiting for a rescue that will never come. I will get no help from Earth. My sister would not free me even if she could. And the mortals… well, the ponies never cared about me when I was there, why should they care now that I am gone?

I wish someone cared.

I confess, at times I talk to myself. My voice is gravelly and rough, unrecognizable as the rich, deep alto it once was. Yet the sound of something besides my hooves gives me some small comfort.

Day 1046
There must be a way out, I just haven't thought of it yet. Every day, a half-dozen ideas flitter into my head, and then right back out. Most are impossible without magic, and the others are infeasible without an army of workers. But I must return. I must escape.

I don't know if I even want revenge anymore. If Celestia were to bring me back right now, I think I would fall to my knees and beg her simply to wipe the last three years from my memory. How the mighty have fallen.

Day 1198
Happy birthday to me…
Happy birthday to me…
Happy birthday, dear—

dear Luna…
Happy birthday to me.

Day 1205
Today I stumbled upon a cave. It led below, into a tunnel that stretched for several kilometers before returning to the surface. Inside were dozens of dead-end passages, filled with rocks and dust and nothing else. I tried to think of some way to use the tunnel, but nothing has come to me. It's just like the rest of the moon. Empty, gray, and useless.

My mind is slow and dull from the long lack of food or drink, my emaciated body so weak that I can barely struggle through the dust each day. I can see the bones under my skin, hear them creak as I walk. I am glad I do not have a mirror.

I have almost grown accustomed to the hunger and the thirst by now, but never the loneliness. I cannot wish this torment on anypony else, but I desperately crave a companion, someone to talk to.

Day 1314
Celestia, can you hear me? My thoughts have reached across the void and touched yours many times, why do you now ignore me? Sister, I need to hear the sound of your voice. Please, Celestia.

Day 1399
I have called for my sister day and night, but she has not responded in eighty days. I have no other way to signal her, no way to beg for rescue, nothing. I would gladly be turned to stone rather than wander this dusty wasteland, starving and alone. At least Discord never feels hunger, and hears the voices of the garden-goers.

Day 1456
I am beginning to realize a terrible truth. This bleak, desolate world, this land of gray rocks; this was what Celestia was fighting against all along.

Eternal night. A beautiful thing, a majestic thing. All the stars, visible forever, all the glory of the night sky laid bare for the mortals to enjoy every moment of every day.

A great and terrible thing. Without the sun, the plants would wither, the mortals would perish, and all that would remain would be dust. Dust and rocks, and the moon. I thought I was trying to bring the world into a wondrous new era. Instead, I was bringing it to this.

Celestia, my sister… I am sorry.

Day 1906
I do nothing. I cannot summon the energy or the care to move. I have lain in the dust for so long that I have lost track. The sun beats down on me and burns my skin through the thin layer of dust, but if I don't move, I feel no pain.

I am losing focus on even the simplest of thoughts. I cannot even speak without faltering on the once-familiar sounds, and my mental calls to Celestia go unanswered.

Does she hear me?

Does she care?

Day 2036
Ten days, a hundred, I can barely tell the difference anymore. I feel as though time has stopped, though the sun does its rounds in the sky. The stars shift as the Earth spins, and every day and night my sister ensures the orbits are properly maintained.

She stole the moon from me. My moon. She's up there, gloating about it, laughing at my misfortune, preening herself over my defeat, I know it. I wish I could smash her face in.

Day 2037
I'm sorry, Celly, I didn't mean it, I'm just tired and lonely and hurting and

I want to see you again, sister. Why won't you answer me?

Day 2145
I dreamed of that night.

In the dream, when it came time for the sun to rise and end the darkness, my sister found that the moon refused to move. She confronted me, demanding that I lower it. When I refused, she attacked me. We dueled for hours, blasting apart the castle around us, until finally she used the Elements to throw me across space and time. I fell for days, and when I emerged, I landed in a sea of gray dust. It swallowed me up until nothing remained.

It didn't happen like that. I can't… I can't remember all the details, for some reason. It used to be so clear. But I do know one thing.

I attacked her.

Day 2296
I am so, so sorry, Celestia. Please, take me back; make me your slave, your prisoner, a garden ornament if you want, just please let me out of here. Please. Pleasepleasepleaseplease.

Day 2331
Perhaps she cannot hear me from this side of the moon. I will make the journey back, all the way west across the mare once more. Then she'll hear me, and save me.

I want to see color again. I want to see the Earth.

Day 2754
I passed the Sunshine Mountains a few days ago. The years have not improved them. But that means the mare is just ahead. I should be able to see the Earth in the next few days.

Day 2843
It is winter in Equestria. I can see the white snow from here, shining brightly in the sunlight.

When I saw the snow, I remembered the last Hearth's Warming my sister and I celebrated together. She got me an extremely expensive coffeepot, to help me stay awake during those long days when I had to break my nocturnal schedule for matters of state. I got her what she'd asked for, a…

A s…

I got her a star atlas. To use with her telescope… the one she looked through every night with me.

Celly, I love you so much. Please answer me.

Day 4243
The mare was no easier the second time through. My bad leg can barely hold me up, and the other three aren't doing much better. Where once I might cross thirty kilometers in a day, now I can barely struggle through five.

The Earth is high above my head, blue and beautiful. She must hear me now, she must.

Day 4244
Celestia!

Day 4324
Celestia!

Day 4892
CELESTIA!

Day 5123
My sister's name has become a mantra, an invocation, a plea for help. I whisper that prayer of desperation every waking moment of every day, and I dream of her in my sleep. My memories of Earth are growing fuzzy, but I can still see her face as if etched in stone.

She won't talk to me. Does she even remember I exist?

Day 5247
I am Nightmare Moon.

I was the Queen of the Stars, the Lady of the Ether, the ruler of all the heavens… I am the usurper, the jealous betrayer who coveted all my sister had. I hated her, when all she ever did was love me. I was wrong. So wrong… I want to take it back, to say how sorry I am, to beg her forgiveness. I want to hear her voice again, to hear anyone's voice, any sound besides the wind over the dust or the parched gasps from my tired mouth. I want to feel the touch of grass, the taste of strawberries, the gentle warmth of a lover's touch…

I was Luna. The sister of Celestia, the Warden of the Moon, the protector of dreams, and the guardian of Equestria.

I wish I could be Luna again.

Day 5439
Maybe all of this was a test. That would certainly be like her; a punishment designed to test and teach. The lesson has been a harsh one, true, but my crime was great.

The lesson has been learned. I know now what it was I nearly did to the world, I have seen the horror of the dust. Now, it is time for the nightmare to end. I'm ready, sister. I've been here for fifteen years. I'm ready to come home.

Day 5483
Celestia, please. I can't do this anymore. My pride, my power, my position, none of it matters. I just want to come back.

Day 5521
Celestia…

Day 5540
I will never leave this place. I see that, now. She has sent me here to wither away in the quiet for all eternity.

To think, there are those on Earth who want immortality.

Day 5785
Inspiration.

I spent the day watching the Earth, like I spent most of the last year. I imagine myself back in Canterlot, walking around, seeing other ponies, talking to them… But today, I saw something different. I saw a shadow.

A solar eclipse. Surely Celestia looked up at the moon and thought of me.

She looked up.

If I can make something on the moon's surface, some sign, some crystal-clear image or symbol, she'll recognize it and come for me. I know she will. The question is, what to draw?

Day 5794
The answer arrived in the form of a half-remembered joke I made eighteen or so years ago. The moon has lots of maria, but it's never had any mares. I'll make a giant Mare in the Moon, a great big picture of myself to tell Celestia that I'm ready to come home.

Day 5823
I will not be able to do this by hoof. I am going to need a plow. But there are no sizable rocks anywhere near this area, and I am surrounded by maria on all sides. It looks like I will have to make the journey back to the Sunshine Mountains once more.

Day 6534
The last two years have been an exercise in agony. I trudged across the plain a third and fourth time, and spent the latter dragging heavy stones behind me.

The plow is made of a deeply grooved rock, with two holes carefully chipped into the edges. For rope, I tore out most of my mane, and wove it together. The dusty hairs are stronger than they appear, and my mane will grow back eventually. When I pulled them from my head, they ceased to resemble the ethereal night sky, and faded back to a faint blue. I could not help but remember my days as Luna, and wish for them back again.

Soon, perhaps. This is a massive undertaking that I consider, one that will take years, if not decades. But the end result is almost irrelevant at this point; this project will give me a purpose again, something to strive for. Perhaps that will be enough to stave off the constant thoughts of suicide.

I… I shouldn't have mentioned that.

Day 6825
I have spent almost a year planning the Mare, using the positions of the stars to plot the path I'll need to move along. I have determined that the best way to go about this is not to make an outline, which would inevitably be distorted and uneven from the Earth; not to mention that it would need to be kilometers thick. Instead, I will use something similar to the pointillist movement that so recently came into fashion in Canterlot. I will dig kilometer-length squares in the dust, combining them to give the illusion of a larger, coherent image. Circles would be more space efficient, but harder to plow—the squares will form giant circles eventually, however, and those circles will form the Mare.

When the Mare is complete, it will be the largest piece of two-dimensional artwork ever created, visible from all of the Earth's continents at any time of year. From Equestria to Saddle Arabia, they'll look up at night and remember that I'm here.

It's time to go to work.

Day 6845
Progress is slow. I have difficulty with the plow, as my weary muscles strain against the blue cords around my neck. But it is working. The disturbed lunar soil is much darker than the gray dust that surrounds me. Once the squares have grown thicker, they should be easily visible against the moon's surface. Today, I managed to draw a single plow-width line over about a hundred meters.

I am revising my completion time estimates accordingly. They are not encouraging.

Day 7239
The work is slow, but steady. Now that I have adjusted to the work, I can make approximately one square per year. Thanks to the vast distance between the Earth and the moon, I can leave gaps between squares, reducing my overall workload. I have been taking off every other day to recuperate from the strain of pulling the plow. I take better care of that plow than my own body; if it breaks, I will have to make the journey across the plain again.

In preparation for my eventual return, I have decided to begin practicing speech. It has been almost twenty years since I had a conversation with someone besides myself, and I fear that if this imprisonment lasts much longer I will be unable to speak at all. So I spend my non-working days practicing Equestrian.

I've created three "practice targets," of sorts. They're thin, upright, rounded rocks that I've chiseled little smiley faces onto. I call the first one Pierre. With it, I practice formal language, the royal Canterlot voice, and all the protocol implied therein. Remembering the rules gives my life some much-needed structure. The second target I call Maria. With it, I practice informal speech, the same way I would talk to Celestia or myself. The third one is called Edward. To it I speak as I would to the peasants; less formally than the bureaucratic dialect, but not as chummy as informal Equestrian. It helps to feel superior to something.

If I keep it up every other day, by the time I return I'll be all ready to reintegrate into society. I'm sure some things have changed in the last twenty years, and more will change in the decades that it may take me to finish this project. I'm looking forward to learning about them. As for the rocks… well, I've heard some strange stories about what isolation can do to you, but I'm not in trouble unless they start talking back, right?

On second thought, that joke isn't very funny.

Day 7300
I've been on the moon for exactly twenty years, now. Seventy-three hundred days. Two decades. One fifth of a century. A fiftieth of a millennium. How much longer can this last?

Day 7350
It has been a productive year. I've finished another square. If somepony were to look through a powerful telescope, they could see the dark patch as a tiny dot on the moon's northeast rim.

I wonder if Celestia still watches the stars at night. Sometimes it felt like she was the only one who did. I remember showing her around the sky, teaching her to navigate the stars to find the brightest nebulae and the fuzziest star clusters. Some days, when I am too weak to pull the plow, I lie on my back in the dust and trace through the old motions. First you find the Ursa Minor, grab his tail… Arc to Arcturus, spike to Spica…

Do you think of me as much as I think of you, sister? Does it hurt as badly?

Day 7842
The years pass, and the squares multiply. I have settled into a routine, one I believe is helping to keep me focused and sane. When the hunger or the loneliness becomes too much to bear, I can talk to my practice targets. Even a one-sided conversation does a great deal to settle me.

I watch the seasons pass yearly up on Earth. Summer is my favorite; I can see the whole land bloom into green. Some days it seems that all the color in the world has vanished, but Earth is always there to remind me what I strive for.

There are so many things I can just dimly remember. The taste of strawberries. The heady buzz after a glass of good wine. What it was like to sleep on a real bed instead of the ground. The sound of rain. The memories grow fainter by the day. I am worried that soon, I will lose them altogether.

Day 8571
Work continues. Week after week, year after year, I toil on the Mare. I have a new respect for all the farmers of Equestria; if their work is anywhere near as difficult as this, I think I'm going to lower their taxes when I return. That is, if I don't get thrown in jail or turned to stone. But I have to believe she can forgive me. Otherwise, I will lose all hope. And hope is what I need right now, more than even food or water.

Day 13079
Today is an important day. I have finished the first four-by-four set of sixteen squares. I don't know how many countless hundreds of these sets it will take, but I will keep digging until Celestia comes, no matter how long it takes.

I thought about taking the rest of the week off, but the sooner I finish this, the sooner I can leave. My bad leg hurts me so, but I grit my teeth and pull anyway, and the pain eventually fades. My mane has mostly grown back, which means if the cords break I can replace them. Life is as good as it has ever been on the moon.

Day 14112
For the third time in my life, I am absolutely terrified.

This morning, I went to my daily speaking practice with Edward, Pierre, and Maria. I had the same conversations I've had every day, spoke the same words I speak every day, told the same jokes I tell every day. But today, when I told the joke about the chicken and the cow…

Today they laughed.

Fear is not entirely unfamiliar. When Celestia and I fought the monster Discord, we risked the destruction of the world and our own annihilation. When the vicious King Sombra tried to conquer Equestria, we almost lost our kingdom and its people to his greed. But both times we prevailed, with strength of hoof, spirit, and mind.

But when your hooves are weak and your spirit blackened by old, bitter jealousy, how long can your mind stand alone against the enemy?

What do you do when your mind becomes your enemy?

Day 14113
I nearly did not go to speech today. I am still afraid to look at those rocks, at those facetious little faces I carved all those years ago. But I forced myself to do it, to stick to my routine, to speak and to dig. I heard no more voices. Perhaps I was simply tired yesterday.

At times I feel like the stars are watching me. I feel naked beneath their invisible eyes, as naked as the day I lost my armor in the wastes. But there are no mountains or caves here to hide in, nothing to protect me from that baleful gaze. I cover my eyes with my disused wings and hope that they cannot see my face.

My wings… my wings have not beaten the air in over a pony generation. In this state, I don't know if I could even fly. I dare not attempt it, it could blow up a dust storm that would erase all my hard work. When I go home, I want to fly through the mountains and land in the clouds, and feel the rain on my face. I can't… I can't even remember how the rain felt.

Day 16342
Time seems to pass more slowly every year. Days and weeks are beginning to lose their meaning to me; I have unconsciously begun measuring time in squares. I believe I now have enough of them to be seen from the planet above. It doesn't look like anything yet, though, just a blob of darker dust. In another hundred years, it will be the Mare's mane.

A hundred years. My stay here will be measured in centuries. Before, that realization would have filled me with rage, or despair, or denial. Now, it fills me with nothing. There's no room left beside the dust.

Day 17234
Doubt has wormed into my mind. What if this doesn't get Celestia's attention? A change so gradual may go unnoticed. If I still had magic, I could blast out the shapes in minutes, but by hoof…

I'm not sure I can last another hundred or two hundred years. The momentum I had at the start of this project has long disappeared. Boredom is weighing me down, slowing my pace. But I must finish. I must.

Day 19426
Celestia, please hear me. Please, sister, listen for me, listen, listen. I can barely remember what the palace looked like, but I see your face as clear as day in all my dreams. I need food, I need water, but most of all I need you, to hear your voice, to hug you, to tell you how sorry I am. I just want to go home again.

Day 21432
What was I thinking? A giant Mare in the Moon, a cry for help across the cosmos; idiocy. I have slaved day and night for nearly forty years, and for what? Some desperate, delusional hope that Celestia would free me? She won't even see it. None of them will. They never looked up at the sky before, why would they start now? I can't—

I can't take it. Every day the weight of this lonely burden grows heavier, until my chest feels ready to burst. I cry myself to sleep every night, thinking of Celestia, of my loyal guards, of even the casual glances from passersby in the streets. My willpower has reached its limit. I am so starved for equine contact that I have forgotten what it means to be a pony. I am a creature of the dust, and to the dust I will return. Alone, lost on this barren rock, I will wither away until no one remembers my name. Not even my sister.

Day 21433
Yesterday was a bad day. My greatest enemy here is not the wind, or the dust, or the faint whispers I sometimes hear, but despair. If I give in—even for a moment—then my hopes of escaping this endless nightmare are all but gone. I must push on with the project, finish the Mare. Celestia will see it, surely she will. Surely she will come for me.

Day 23312
I collapsed again today. It's been happening more and more, but today I think something just broke inside. I lay there in the dust, crying without tears, curled in a ball. I feel so small, so lonely, so lost… No one deserves to be locked away forever. Even Discord can hear the sound of others' voices from within his prison. I have no one, not even my enemies.

Can I come home? Please, Celestia, can I come home?

Celly?

Can you hear me?

Celestia!

Day 24231
The whispers have grown louder. Pierre, Maria, and Edward have been speaking to me for months, but I've been pretending not to hear. How can they talk? They're just rocks. But that doesn't mean I should just ignore them like this. They must think I'm a terrible friend.

Pierre's voice is my favorite. It's like sunlight, bright and tingly just the way Celestia's used to be. When he talks, I feel warm, and even… happy, somehow. Maria sounds almost like me, a long, long time ago. Back before the kingdom, back before even the ponies, when my mane was light, creamy blue and every feather was bright and fluffy. There was color, then, beautiful color. Red and blue, green and yellow, pink and orange, violet and rose… Maria's voice is full of colors, the memories of days long past. When she speaks, I remember hope.

Edward has the bad voice. I don't like it when Edward talks.

Day 24452
It's been five days—six? Seven? Days don't mean what they used to. Whatever the time, it has been too long since I last worked on the project. I just… cannot muster the effort. Instead, I wander around the plow, dragging my hooves in circles through the dust. I feel so listless. Even if I spend the next five hundred years on this mare, will it be complete? Some days I just don't feel like trying anymore.

But what else is there? Simply lie down in the dust and wait for the universe to end? I must continue trying. I must. I must complete the Mare. I'll start again, soon. Perhaps tomorrow.

Day 24823
Today I wandered through the gardens, watching the vibrant butterflies flitter around me. The smell of apples and pears was so strong that my mouth watered. When I tried to pick a fruit, I found myself with a hoof full of dust instead.

I'm not sure if it was real or not. Dreams and reality are mixing together. I find myself talking to ponies who aren't there, answering questions asked by voices I dimly recognize. I am losing myself.

There is no fate more horrifying than to be trapped in your own mind. Looking inward scares me more than anything my sister could dream up. And yet…

The crushing weight of this loneliness is more than I can possibly bear. I crave companionship, more than food, more than water, more than anything, more than even an escape. It has been so long… I just want to touch someone, to reassure myself that I am not the only one left in the emptiness. In the face of the dark, endless void, would blissful madness really be so bad?

Day 25341
Today, I spoke to Pierre. And this time, when he answered… I kept talking. Maria soon joined us, and together the three of us discussed the Mare and my lack of progress. My… my friends—it has been so long since I used that word—were very encouraging, telling me to get back to work if I want to finish this project. I agreed to try harder, and to start plowing again. I spent the afternoon digging the length of another square. When I returned, they welcomed me with smiles.

I haven't had company in so long, I'd forgotten what it feels like. I don't have the strength to lose this again. Pierre, Maria, even Edward, they're my lifelines in the darkness. Is that crazy? Am I crazy? I don't know anymore. All I know is that when we talk to each other, I feel more alive than I have in over a century.

I asked them to call me Luna. I know I left that name behind, but maybe—maybe if I pretend hard enough, I can go back to the way things were. Maybe I can be little Princess Luna again.

Day 26484
I work on the Mare every few days. The toll the plow takes on my body is so severe that I can no longer dredge up the strength to dig every other day. My muscles have long atrophied from the lack of food, my bones ache and creak with every movement, and my skin is pulled so tightly that I look like a tall black skeleton. When I became the Nightmare, I was so beautiful; strong, graceful, full with the deepness of the night. Now I am but the shadow of a ghost, the echo of a spirit. Why did I throw it all away for this? I can barely remember.

Day 81943
Years beyond memory have passed since I began the Mare. The mane was finished over a century ago, and the snout half a century after that. Now, I strive daily to finish the horn, the last piece of this vast picture. My work is nearly done. Soon, the Mare will be complete. Soon, Celestia will come for me.

Pierre and Maria can't wait to meet her. Pierre reminds me a lot of Celestia; he's got the same quiet confidence and authority she does. I always feel safer when he's around.

Edward doesn't share the excitement, though. He's always been quiet compared to the others, but when we talk about Celestia his quiet… changes, from boredom to something else. Still, he'll change his tune once he meets her. Everypony loves my sister.

What?

Yes, they do, Edward. Come on. Name one pony who doesn't love Celestia.

I… that's not true. I—

I told you not to call me that. I don't want to be her anymore. My name is Luna.

Day 99499
The Mare is nearly complete. The horn has taken me far longer than I thought it would, as my weakened body reached its limits long ago. I wish I could see it from above, see if it looks like I thought it would, see if it's visible from Earth. In a year, the last square will be finished. I thought… I thought Celestia would have come by now, but maybe she was testing my resolve, seeing if I would finish the Mare. I won't disappoint her. I'll get it done.

Day 99852
This is it. Today I pull the plow for the final time. The thought of finally going home is… it's overwhelming. I thought I had no tears left, but they fall freely every moment I imagine my coming reunion with Celestia. I haven't seen her in almost three hundred years.

The first thing I'll do when I get back is hug her. I want to feel what feathers are like without dust in them, what the gentle warmth of a living creature is like, and talk to her, hear her voice. Even thinking about it fills me with joy.

Edward?

Wh—how can you say that? Of course she'll come! Why wouldn't she?

No, Edward. She didn't send us here. I sent us here. And now she'll come rescue us.

I don't have to listen to this. Be grouchy all you want, you'll see that I'm right.

Day 99853
It is finished. At long last, the Mare in the Moon has been completed, a vast signal through space to let my sister know where I am. Now, all I have to do is wait.

When I get back, I want to walk through the castle, to feel that soft red carpet under my hooves. I want to taste grass again, to feel the sun on my skin without searing my flesh. To sleep on a mattress not made of loose, gray rocks; to hear music and see plays and run on the open plains…

I'm too excited to sleep. My friends and I decided to make a little camping game out of it. We're sitting around the fire, roasting marshmallows. I don't… I don't quite remember what those are, but I know you're supposed to roast them. Our fire's just make-believe, because we don't have anything to burn, but it's okay. Soon we can sit in front of one of those big fireplaces at the castle and let the heat wash over us like a blanket. I do remember blankets. You don't roast those.

The marshmallows taste like dust, but then, everything tastes like dust. But if I close my eyes real tight, and imagine as hard as I can, I can almost hear the fire crackling, and that's more than enough.

To pass the time, we've been telling campfire stories. Maria spun this exciting tale about an evil forest witch who tried to take over Canterlot with talking, walking trees. Starswirl the Bearded was the only one who could stop her, and they agreed to settle the matter with a magical shapeshifting duel. They transformed themselves into hundreds of different animals, and spells flew fast and thick, but in the end, Starswirl managed to defeat the witch and restore peace to the city. The citizens of Canterlot threw a massive parade for Starswirl, and the two Princesses awarded him the title of Archmage. Maria's stories always have happy endings.

Pierre's was much more dramatic. He spun this long tale about dragons and heroes, and a big battle at the beginning of the world. There were all these long names I can't even pronounce and a long list of heroic deeds and terrible fights, but the best one was the final battle. The dragons had nearly won, when a lone pony wielding a magic hammer stepped forth to oppose them. The dragons attacked him one by one, hoping to prove themselves the greatest of all wyrms, but the warrior bested each of them in turn. Finally, the largest and foulest of the beasts flew down to meet him, and the two did battle. They fought for days, scarring the land and devastating the earth beneath them, but in a heroic last effort, the pony took one final swing of his hammer, and slew the great dragon. The effort cost him his life, but he saved the world.

Edward's story wasn't about dragons or monsters. Long ago, before the sun or the moon, when the world existed in eternal twilight, there lived two sisters. One was beautiful and majestic, wreathed in a cloak made of shadow and stars, adorned with silver jewelry; the greatest pony who ever lived. Her sister was a small, plain-looking little mare, but kind and happy, with golden jewelry. The two sisters loved each other very dearly, and together they played and laughed and made their way through life together.

One day, as the two sisters wandered the world, they came upon a farmer. The farmer was very sad, for his crops would not grow. 'Please,' he said to the sisters, 'without these crops, I will have no way to feed my family, and we will surely perish.' The two sisters were glad to help the farmer and his family, so they each gave him a gift.

The sister with the silver jewelry gathered up all the clouds and painted them with the night sky. The clouds grew dark, and soon stars began to fall down onto the farmer's crops. The stars were made of water, and it seeped into the ground to the plants who drank it up. 'My gift to you is called rain,' said the sister with the silver jewelry.

The sister with the golden jewelry took the light in her heart and shaped it into a circle, then set it in the sky to shed its warm rays down on the earth. The light warmed the plants, and they grew tall and strong. 'My gift to you is called sunlight,' said the sister with the golden jewelry.

The farmer was very pleased with the second sister's gift, but not the first's. 'The rain is cold, and the cloudy skies obscure the beautiful sunlight,' he said. 'Please, send the rain away until I must water my crops again.'

So the sister with the silver jewelry sent the rain away, and told it to return only when the farmer asked it to. Sad that the farmer did not appreciate her gift, she grew smaller, and the colors of her cloak faded to gray. But the second sister grew taller, and her golden jewelry seemed to shine all the brighter in the sunlight.

The sisters walked along the edge of the sea, admiring the beauty of the world, when they came upon a fisherpony. The fisherpony was very sad, for he could not catch many fish in a day. 'Please,' he said to the sisters, 'if I cannot gather enough fish to sell to the griffons, I will be unable to buy bread for my family, and we will surely perish.' The two sisters were glad to help the fisherpony and his family, so they each gave him a gift as well.

The sister with the silver jewelry set a great sphere in the sky called the moon, to match the golden sun. They spun around the sky together, opposites pushing and pulling on the waters of the earth. The ocean swelled as the moon rose, bringing up fish to the fisherpony's nets. 'My gift to you is the tide,' said the sister with the silver jewelry.

The sister with the golden jewelry took a deep breath, and released it into the world. The rushing air became the wind, and the fisherpony's sails were filled with it. He quickly left the port and was carried to the schools of fish, where he filled his nets. 'My gift to you is the wind,' said the sister with the golden jewelry.

The fisherpony was very pleased with the second sister's gift, but not the first's. 'The wind makes my job easier, but this moon will keep me awake at night! Please, cover it up until I need the fish to come to the surface.'

So the sister with the silver jewelry masked the moon with shadow, a circle of darkness to move across the face of the moon and dim its light throughout the month. Sad that the fisherpony did not appreciate her gift, she grew smaller still, and her cloak crumbled into dust. But the second sister grew taller again, and the sun reached down and placed a golden crown on her head.

The two sisters roamed the world, enjoying the new days and nights they had wrought. At last, they came upon a pony sleeping beneath a tree. The pony beneath the tree awoke, and was very sad, for during the night he could do nothing but sleep. 'Please,' he said to the sisters, 'During the day, I can work and build useful things, but the nights are so long that I get little done. Sleep is dull and useless, and the night is too long.'

The sister with the silver jewelry reached deep within herself to bring out her very essence, the creativity unlike any other, and gifted it to the pony. 'My gifts to you are called dreams,' said the sister with the silver jewelry, 'that you might enjoy the night even when you are not awake.'

The sister with the golden jewelry reached out to the sun, and shifted its position. Now the sun rose higher and longer every day, until eventually it diminished once more, then repeated again. 'My gifts to you are called seasons,' said the pony with the golden jewelry, 'That you may spend many days planting, many days harvesting, and many days of rest while the days are short.'

The pony beneath the tree was very pleased with the second sister's gift, but not the first's. 'The gift you have given me is filled with horrors! While dreams may be sweet, I am now also cursed with nightmares, and even sleep is no longer safe from terror.'

So the sister with the silver jewelry stood guard over the dreams of all the ponies, watching to ensure they had no nightmares. But she shrank again, to the size of a mere foal, while her sister grew taller than any other. And the sister with the golden jewelry left her to watch the world of dreams and rain and moon, and went forth into the world where she was beloved by all.

When Edward was done, I told him the story sounded familiar. He said it was based on a true one, just like Pierre's and Maria's, and that's why I recognized it. I told him I didn't really like the ending.

He said the ending hasn't been written yet.

Day 100000
I stayed awake as long as I could, almost two days, but sleep won out in the end. I woke this morning, terrified that I might have missed Celestia's arrival, but Pierre assured me that I had not.

I don't know why she isn't here yet. Has she seen the Mare? Well, she's got to look up sometime. I can wait. It's not like I have anything better to do.

Day 100014
It's been two weeks since I completed the Mare, and still no sign of Celestia. Maria and I are getting worried, but Pierre insists that we must be patient. Edward says… well, forget what he says. Celly just needs more time.

Day 100052
I thought I'd be home by now. Did I do something wrong? Is the Mare large enough? Dark enough? Shaped right?

Is anyone looking up?

Day 100136
Maybe the message wasn't clear enough—why didn't I write "help!" or "save me!" instead of drawing some insipid picture? If Celestia thinks the Mare is a challenge instead of a plea, she might just leave me up here—no. No, you're right, Maria. Our big sister wouldn't abandon us, even if she thought we were still consumed by darkness.

But why is she taking so long?

Day 100221
It's almost been a year. Celly, can't you see it? At least—at least talk to me, send me your thoughts. I could last another twenty years on just the sound of your voice, but this silence is killing me. Please, Celly, talk to me.

Day 100372
I understand! Of course, how could I forget? Celly's coming for me, but she wasn't strong enough when I finished the Mare. Using the Elements has always required both of us to be present—even the last time. We've always been practically halves of a single pony; without me there to strengthen her, she probably can't even tap into the Elements' power to re-open the bridge.

She'll have to use her own magic. Celly would need to build up some stores of energy before casting that spell, and such things take time. She's always been more powerful than me—until I ascended, anyway—so it won't take her much longer, I think. I'm hesitant to put a date on it, but a year should be plenty of time. That means she'll be here any day now.

Day 100486
I just need to be patient. I just need to be patient. I just need…

Day 100523
Celly…? I don't understand. Celestia?

Day 100631
A chance, at long last. It's the middle of the lunar night, and the sun's positioned just right—today there's going to be a solar eclipse, just like the one that inspired the Mare in the first place. I can see the little black shadow on the Earth above, moving across Equestria right where Canterlot is. She has to look up now, she has to. She has to see me.

Day 100640
Please.

Please.

Day 100711
Please.

Day 100931
I tried… I tried so hard, I… I spent centuries…

Day 101022
I don't need her. I don't need any of them. I've never needed anyone but myself. To hell with her and all the rest up there. I don't need…

The lies taste like ash in my mouth. I just—I just wanted to go home.

Day 101093
Edward was right. She isn't coming.

Day 101222
I find myself crying constantly, at the slightest provocation. When I look up at the Earth, the moans of grief come unbidden. My chest feels crushed with loss. All of it is lost to me, all gone, all turned to dust. I am forsaken.

Day 101311
Today, I climbed the highest cliff I could find, and threw myself from the top.

It was not high enough. I lay at the base, drowning in the pain of a dozen different broken bones, weeping with despair.

I wish the rocks would tumble down and bury me. I wish the hunger would finally claim me. I wish I could die. I want to die so badly. Just stop, and cease to be. No more dust, no more pain, no more tears; just quiet death. But even that is denied to me.

Day 101364
My broken ribs have healed, poorly. I could walk away, or try again, but what's the point? This must be the thirtieth time I've tried to kill myself since my exile, and every attempt has failed just the same.

Day 101438
Today, when I looked up into the dark sky, the emptiness was too much. I ran, ran and ran with nowhere to go, ran until I could run no more, until my legs failed and I crashed into the dust. As I lay there, I laughed. I don't know why, but I couldn't stop laughing, even when I could not breathe and the tears raced in tracks through the dust on my cheeks.

Day 101512
When I woke this morning, there were thousands of tiny, ugly insects crawling across my skin. I screamed and tried to shake them away, but millions more came clicking and clattering out of the dust, like the soil beneath me was birthing them. I shut my eyes, waiting for them to eat me alive, but when I opened them again the creatures were gone.

Pierre says he didn't see anything. Edward says I'm going crazy. I don't—oh no. Oh, no—

get off get off get off get off

help

Day 102369
Nightmares haunt me day and night. I can't tell what's real or fantasy anymore. Skeletal claws spring from the ground, trying to pull me down with them into the dust; ponies gather around me and offer food, only to grow fangs and sink them into my flesh; thousands of snakes fall from the sky and coil around my body, biting and hissing.

When I was a foal, I was terrified of monsters that lived in the darkness before my stars. Celestia would watch while I slept, guarding me against them like I would guard so many others to come. But now, there is no one between me and these demons, no one to protect me. I'm just like Edward says, weak and small and scared and—

CELESTIA!

Help me…

Day 104635
The Earth is the cause of my torment, I am certain of it. It floats above, sending these visions into my mind, cackling as it tries to drive me mad. My friends and I are going to flee to the far side of the moon, where the Earth can't see us, and then maybe we'll be safe. Maybe it will forget about us.

Day 104640
I've been gathering my strength, preparing to make the eastward journey one more time. I'm going to carry my friends on a rock sledge that I'll drag behind me, like I used to pull the plow. To strengthen my legs, I have been walking in circles every day. My old bad leg hurts worse now than it has in years, but I'm getting used to it.

Day 104641
Everyone's ready to go. Pierre is singing with that beautiful voice of his, trying to make the trip more enjoyable. Edward's just sitting there quietly, like usual. Maria—

Where's Maria?

Maria? Can you hear me?

Maria?

Day 104642
I can't find Maria. Pierre hasn't seen her since the day before last, and Edward won't say anything. She couldn't have just wandered off—did she get hurt? Did something take her?

MARIA! Where are you?

Day 104645
I'm getting frantic. I can't find her anywhere. If she's lost or hurt and I can't find her in time—

Day 104647
Maria! Maria! Please, Maria, I can't lose anyone else, please be okay, please be okay…

Day 104650
Thank every other deity who has ever lived, even my sister; I've found her. She had fallen from the sledge and gotten half buried in the dust, covering her smile. When I found her, I hugged her tight and wept. I nearly thought I'd lost her.

Come on, you three. We've got a long trip ahead of us.

Day 108161
The journey has been mostly uneventful, so far. We passed the Sunshine Mountains a year ago. I'm not sure what I am looking for, but I'll know it when I see it.

Day 120161
At last, we've found a place of safety. It's a giant crater on the far side of the moon, perhaps a kilometer or two wide. Plenty of shade on the edges to hide from the sun, with tightly packed dust that won't blow around and get into my eyes, and a wonderful view of the stars. It's a paradise.

Paradise, yes. That's what we'll call this place.

Day 121433
We are no longer alone. I've made some new friends, lots of them. All of us live in Paradise, working and playing and living out our lives. Everyone decided that I should be in charge of the town, since I'm the biggest. I appointed Maria, Edward, and Pierre to be my co-mayors. I love my new townspeople, but those original three will always be special to me.

Day 134112
Paradise continues to grow. More villagers flock to the city every day, so many that I can't even chisel faces for them all anymore. Our little town has become a thriving city. I've had to start dividing up executive responsibilities between myself and Pierre. Maria's handling the legislature, and Edward's the Chief of Justice. Life is busy, but good.

Day 142585
The Kingdom of Paradise faces its greatest challenge yet. The neighboring nation of Istonea seeks to burn our dust fields and sack our cities. I have instituted a mandatory draft for all Paradisans, and now our army grows by the day. Seeing our soldiers lined up in their vast formations, thousands strong, gives me a feeling of pride I can't quite put into words.

The Istoneans are going to regret this.

Day 159342
It's been five years since the end of the Second Istonean War, and Queen Isolde is getting restless again. If she attacks us once more, I'll make sure I end her for good this time. Prince Pierre and I are drawing up plans for a new city wall, just in case.

Day 160089
The situation in Paradise is getting more dangerous by the day. Last night, assassins armed with heavy rocks tried to club me to death in my sleep. My royal shale guards burst into my chamber just before they could kill me, and chased the assassins away. We managed to capture a few of them, but even the royal interrogator couldn't get anything out of them.

Prince Edward presided over the public executions. He's right, we have to send a message that this kind of treachery will not be tolerated.

Day 174312
The Paradisan Empire is beginning to falter. Several of my highest-ranking officials have tried to break away and form their own little nation-states. Though I have crushed the rebellions swiftly, I hear whispers of more treasonous servants just waiting for any sign of weakness. They will not find any. The mighty Princess Luna will not be defeated by a bunch of stupid rocks.

Day 189432
Today is one of my lucid days. They're scarier than the crazy ones ever are.

I woke up to find myself in the middle of the crater, surrounded by thousands of rocks. Most of them have little faces carved on them. They're arranged intentionally, but I can't remember for what, even though I'm the one who arranged them.

I am completely insane, I know that. It's no earth-shattering revelation. I knew I was mad a long time ago, the first time I heard a rock talking and talked back. But seeing this, I'm scared. I'm scared of myself. Can I ever return from this? Can I ever get better? Do I even want to?

Day 189485
We have all of us been betrayed. They said they wanted to see myself and the Three to discuss the Eastern Kingdom's proposition to rejoin the Empire, but it was a trap. As soon as Pierre and Maria joined Edward and me in the conference hall, the doors slammed shut and the assassins leapt from the shadows.

Pierre and I fought back with tooth and hoof, crushing some of the assassins into gravel, but Maria was grievously wounded. I gathered the three of them and broke free of the room, running as fast and as far as I could. Paradise is long gone behind us. We cannot go back; the army is loyal to their commander, not me. Edward was right, I should never have delegated that much authority.

We're making for the Sunshine Mountains. The Paradisans won't find us there.

Day 189561
I see something above the horizon. It's beautiful, but also familiar, like something out of a half-remembered dream. A great celestial sphere, right up there among the stars. It's made of colors whose names I can't even remember, and it calls to me. We're not far from the mountains. I think I can see it better from there.

Day 195235
Something's wrong. We should have passed the mountains a long time ago, but the Earth keeps—

The Earth! That's what it is. It's been so long that I… Oh, oh, no; it's all coming back.

I don't want this, I don't want these memories, I don't want to know what it was like before the moon. I don't want it…

Day 196732
I am lost. I have been wandering the lunar wastes for years, seeking anything familiar, but finding nothing. Maria's injuries never healed after we fled from the palace. There's a huge chunk missing from her midsection, where one of the assassins tried to crack her in half. I have to be very careful with her, lest she break.

Maria has always been my favorite, though I'd never tell the others that. She's all the best parts of me; my kindness, my hope, my joy, my laughter. I need to keep her safe. The moon has taken so many things from me… I won't let it take her, too.

Edward keeps trying to get my attention, but I can't waste time listening to him until we reach the mountains and safety.

Day 200152
At last, I can see the mountains. I don't even know if they're the right ones, but I'm sure we'll be safe there regardless. I have to push harder.

Day 200312
We've made camp in the lowlands. We'll stay here until Maria gets better, then move on.

Day 201405
Maria isn't healing. Edward laughed when I whispered my fears to him, and said of course not, because she's just a stone. I wanted to hit him for that, but Pierre said I shouldn't.

I'm so scared. What if Maria dies? I'm not sure I could handle that.

Day 201856
Pierre, you may be right. She's never answered before, but it can't hurt to try again.

Celly? Are you out there? Please, sister, I need your help. My friend is hurt badly, and I can't do anything for her. I need you, Celly. Please. I know you won't come for me, but please come for Maria. Please.

I know I'm being stupid, Edward, there's no need to rub it in.

Day 202413
If only I could do magic, I'd just fix Maria on the spot. But the moon's totally dry, there's no power anywhere here. Nothing for me to siphon magic out of…

What?

Edward, are you—are you serious? The stars? That's… that's dangerous, Edward. They're so far away, and there's so much magic in them, trying to tap into them will just blow me up. Why do you think I never tried that before? Besides, even if it worked, there's a chance all the stars would go out, forever, and then who would be able to enjoy the night sky? I don't think this is a very good idea.

Day 202416
Edward's been talking to me. He's been talking a lot, actually, more than he's ever done before. He makes sense… but it still seems pretty risky. The stars have more magic than anything, even the sun, and there are so many of them; but I don't know if I can handle that kind of power. But Edward says…

He says that Princess Luna couldn't, that it would destroy her. But I'm not Princess Luna.

I don't want him to be right. I wanted to be Luna, to be me again so much, for so long, that I almost believed it. But if he's right, if I really can do this, if I really am… her forever, then I could save Maria. More. I might even be able to… to go back. Back to Earth.

Should I even want that anymore? I'm a mess. My body is a ruin, a mockery of life, just a thin fleshy shell around ravaged bones. My mind is a wreck. I'm more screwed up than Discord ever was. Who would want me now?

Would she, Pierre? She hasn't wanted me in nearly six hundred years, why would she start now?

You're right, Edward. I'll do it.

Day 202427
Baby steps. The risks here are greater than simply killing myself. If I do this wrong, I might snuff out all the light in the sky, or send the sun flying out of Celestia's carefully maintained orbit, or blow myself and the entire moon into tiny chunks of rock to rain down on the Earth. I didn't dare start with the brightest stars, so I picked one of the dim, far ones. It shines red in the void, a tiny pinprick of light that holds more magic than I've dreamed about for centuries. I was a powerful mage, once, but it's been so long that I had nearly forgotten how to open the proper channels.

I let my mind go blank, and stared at the star, letting it sink into my consciousness. I felt it pulse, contracting and expanding in the endless emptiness. I reached within to find the spark of magic, and I tugged.

The warmth of magic flowed through me, starting from my horn, and running down my spine. I felt tingly all over, and smiled for the first time in long years.

This will work.

Day 202428
Siphoning magic from a star is no quick process. It depends on the star, of course, but in general the bright ones give up their power more swiftly than the dim ones. The red star I'm using as my test subject will likely take me several weeks to fully exploit. The really dim ones, the most common stars, may take months or even years at a time to harvest; but the bright blue ones will only be days or even hours. If I'm successful with this star, I'll take the power of Vega, or Rigel, and use it to heal Maria. And then? Well, then we'll see.

Day 202673
Finally, I've done it. I can feel the magic throbbing in my veins, like a second heartbeat. The star I've used is still there, slightly dimmer, but not noticeably so. It still has enough magical fuel to last for billions of years, but it's given me enough power to do simple spells with.

The first time in six hundred years that I lifted a pebble with magic was a euphoric experience. I feel transcendent, like I've reached another plane of existence, one I knew about a long time ago but have since forgotten.

Another star or two and I can help Maria. She's so brave, lying there with a smile on her face, even though she's dying. I won't let her down.

Day 203119
It worked. It worked! I turned dust into stone, healed Maria's side right up. She's all better now, as good as new. She's so happy she's practically glowing. Pierre's happy, too. Even Edward seems pleased.

He wants me to keep going. Healing Maria drained me of all the power I've gathered. Edward wants me to get more, to get as much as I can, to start thinking about opening bridges. All I have to do is remember the feeling of magic, and I want to do it too.

Day 204587
More stars have given me their strength. I make sure not to take it all, to leave them enough to shine for a long, long time, but even the little bit I can safely get makes me vastly stronger. I should have done this centuries ago, but I was too afraid, or too stupid, or too faithful that my sister would rescue me. But the centuries have taught me how unreliable she is.

Don't deny it, Pierre. She stuck me up here, and she hasn't so much as tried to talk to me ever since. Edward's right, you've got too much trust in her.

Day 226934
My days are consumed by the star siphoning. I've used hundreds, thousands of them, but it's still not nearly enough. It took the Elements of Harmony to send me here, and it will take the entire might of the heavens to bring me back. But I will return.

And when I do, what then? Do I beg forgiveness from the one who sentenced me to seven centuries of starvation and insanity? Do I fall on my knees and pledge to be loyal to her forever? Lick her horseshoes like so many before me?

What has she done to earn my forgiveness?

Day 237932
The days pass in a merciful blur. The siphoning spell absorbs me, taking me out of time, letting me lose myself in the flow of the magic. It seems like I will have the power I need any day now, though I know it must still be dozens or even hundreds of years away. As I grow stronger, so does Edward's voice. He used to speak in a whisper, but now he's louder than Pierre sometimes.

And speaking of Pierre, he's begun to voice his concerns about the stars. He says that I shouldn't risk it, that I'm going to end up hurting somepony, probably myself. He's like Celestia. They both worry too much.

Day 266839
All the brightest stars have been used; now I turn to the faintest. The great big blues are short-lived, burning out in less than the lifespan of the Earth, but these stars are the immortals, the ones that will live practically forever. Much like myself.

Soon, I will have the magic I need. Soon, I will be free.

Day 284122
The sun flies, the Earth spins, the stars dim, and I grow stronger.

I've been thinking. When I get back, will anything be like it was? The land may look the same, but the cities will have surely changed. Who knows? Canterlot might not even exist anymore. The language may have changed, the politics certainly have, and the art, well, that's bound to be completely different. All in all, the home I remember will be gone, wiped away by the slow march of time.

This place is more home to me than the new Equestria will ever be.

Day 299712
The ponies of this new Earth were all born long after I was exiled. They've grown up never knowing the name Luna, never knowing what I used to be. They've seen the great Mare in the Moon and assumed it was always so. Good. The truth, that it was the pathetic, desperate plea of a weak, broken fool, might as well be forgotten.

They work in their fields and sit at their tables, eating and drinking, never looking up. To them, I must be the villain in some barely-remembered childhood story. And the hero, naturally, is Celestia.

I can't wait to meet her again. We've got a lot to catch up on. I can tell her all about how depressingly beautiful the Earth looks from orbit, what lunar dust tastes like, how it feels to be sunburned every day, the exquisite pain of centuries-long thirst, how you get that little jolt of adrenaline when you realize you're about to lose your mind for the fifth time in a day…

And then, oh, then we'll have some fun. I can show her my bad leg, where the bone snapped in two, and knit itself back together so poorly I've had a limp for over half a millennium. I can tell her stories about dragging a plow through the gray soil, over and over again, for decade after decade, all for nothing. I can let her watch as I try to eat real food again, and the inevitable purge as it turns out to be too rich for my stomach. I can look her in the eyes and ask her why?

WHY?

Day 320541
I am strong, stronger than I have been in living memory. My hooves feel solid beneath me, sturdy and powerful. My mane glitters with starlight, and the magic thrums in my chest. Today I spread my wings for the first time in an age, feeling the blood flow back into the tips, shaking the dust from my feathers.

I am not ready yet. I require more magic, more stars, more power. But already I feel as strong as I was when I became Nightmare Moon, all those hundreds of years ago.

Day 334103
Pierre has expressed his worry once more, but this time, Maria joined him. They say they're concerned about what the magic might be doing to me, but they don't understand. The magic isn't doing anything to my thoughts. It's the realization that I'm about to go back that's making me so quiet. The constant wondering what I'll do when I return.

Maria was afraid that I was going to leave them behind. I promised her I wouldn't, on my life. I'll never leave her behind.

Pierre thinks I've been spending too much time talking to Edward. He said Edward was poisoning my mind, trying to plant seeds of anger. But it's too late for that. Those seeds were planted long, long ago.

Edward doesn't try to convince me of anything. He doesn't even really tell me much. He just lets me talk, lets me get things off my chest. Especially things about Celestia. Every time I think about her, I feel… strange. Part of me wants to see her again. The other part wants to hurt her. I'm not sure I like that part. But Edward's showing me that I need to let those feelings out. If I'm angry, why should I bury it? I tried that for a long time back on Earth, and look where it got me.

Day 342192
Edward and Pierre are arguing again. I'm sick of hearing them fight. I wish they'd both just shut up.

Day 354113
I'm nearly ready. But I feel like something's missing. I've got enough raw magic to tear open a hole to Canterlot, but I just can't bring myself to try it yet.

Should I go back? Do I even deserve to live amongst other ponies?

Do they deserve to live with me? None of them have suffered what I have. None of them know what it's like on the moon, in this bleak desert of gray ash.

I could show them. I could let them see the same things I've seen, feel the same rough grit on their skins as the dust blows across the land, feel the same hunger I've felt as long as I can remember, experience that last spark of hope vanish into the blackness. Then they'd understand. They'd know. They'd know like I do.

Day 364982
Pierre and Edward are at it again, and this time I'm getting worried that it's going to get out of hand. Pierre keeps shouting that if we go back it'll mean the end of the world, that we're not ready, that we have to trust Celestia. Edward just roars that we've been here for long enough, that it's time to return and take our rightful place.

I don't know who I believe. I just—

Oh no. Oh, no—Edward, don't—

Day 364983
I can't think, I can't—what do I do?

Everything's gone wrong. Edward, he, he—

He and Pierre were yelling, and then I, I mean Edward, I mean—someone, someone hit Pierre. And then then they hit him again, and again, and then he stopped yelling, and he—

I'm sweating all over; I can't stop panting, I'm so scared. Edward… he killed Pierre. Ground him down to dust and threw it to the winds.

I couldn't let him do it, I tried to stop him, but he was too strong. Then when Pierre stopped moving, Edward laughed, and said she deserved it. I don't know what he meant; Pierre was a he, wasn't he?

I screamed, and attacked Edward. I grabbed him and smashed him against the ground, over and over, but he just kept laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. When I'd beaten him to nothing, he laughed, and laughed, and laughed; the voice of Nightmare Moon, laughing harder than I've ever heard it.

And he's not gone. He's in the rocks around me, he's still there, waiting, watching, whispering in my ear. She's there. I'm there.

I took Maria and ran. We hid in the shadow of a crater, hoping against hope that the Nightmare won't find us, but knowing she will eventually.

I'll protect you, Maria. I'll protect you as best I can.

Day 364998
I hear the whisper in my head. It tells me truths I don't want to hear.

Why haven't I gone back?

Because you still love her.

Even after all this time, Celestia is still my sister. The darkness has taken me again; a thousand years of madness and loneliness have driven me back to that black place in my mind. Were I to return now, I would destroy everything, and I—Luna—cannot bring that upon my sister.

But Nightmare Moon can.

You know what you must do.

I don't want to. I don't want to…

You cannot leave until you accept this. Luna is gone. You're holding on to a dream, the last shred of your old life, and it anchors you to your prison.

To escape, you must let go.

You must kill Maria.

… I know.

I'm sorry, Maria. I can't be Princess Luna any more. I tried, I tried so hard, but Luna can't get out of here. Only I can. And escaping is more important than anything else, even you. And I've always known that, deep down. That's why I made Edward; to voice those thoughts I could never think out loud. I promised I would take you with me. I promised I would keep you safe.

I lied.

Day 364999
When I came to the moon, I thought I was no longer the weak, feeble Princess who once raised the moon. I thought I had surpassed her, grown beyond her jealousies and woes. I was wrong. Luna was still inside, still eating away at my resolve like a parasite, still huddled deep in my psyche, waiting to come back out.

Now, finally, the lie has become the truth. Luna is gone, forever. Nightmare Moon has risen at last.

The magic swells inside me. My skin is as dark as the void above, my mane filled with stars, my feathers primed and prepared to feel the thick air of the Earth once again. Armor, forged by magic in the blackest watches of the night, rests around my neck and head. My teeth are sharpened to points, the better to rend the flesh of my enemies. I am ready to return.

The sun will vanish behind the moon, never to shine again. The plants will wither and crumble to ash. The ponies will choke on the ashes until their lungs cannot bear the strain, and they will bow into the ground and be buried by the dust. And then, finally, the world will be nothing but a great, dusty wasteland. And my sister will live amongst the gray ashes of her world for all eternity.

I am Nightmare Moon. I am the night. And I will last forever.

Day 365000
I stand on the edge of a vast black square, one of the countless points that formed the Mare in the Moon. The Mare was the last sign that Luna ever existed, her last call for help, her final, ignored plea.

Magic erupts from my horn. The thin air swirls, carrying the dust in a growing whirlwind, turning up the soil and erasing the marks so painstakingly drawn half a millennium ago.

The whirlwind grows and grows, until it is a raging maelstrom of furious dust, whipping in spirals across the face of the moon at thousands of kilometers a second, wiping away the Mare in instants. I watch coldly as all traces of my imprisonment vanish into the swirling dust. As the last square disappears, I tear open the bridge. I rend a screeching hole through the fabric of the universe, straight into the heart of Canterlot.

The swirling vortex awaits me now, as I take one final look at the desolation that is all I have known for a thousand years.

And finally… I step through.

* * *

Can you hear me, Celestia?

Luna?

LUNA?

Luna, sister, you're—you're back! You've returned! I've—I've called to you every night, every day—I can't believe it! I've been waiting for you for so long, Luna, I've missed you so much—please, sister. Come home.

No, sister. I'm bringing home to you.