Mistakes Best Not Remembered
Mistakes Best Not Remembered
Dark hooves landed softly upon the wooden planks of the old rope bridge. There was not a sound to be heard across all of the forest, the creatures within having vacated the grounds come the full moon. The minuscule creak of wooden planks and the unmistakable sound of strained rope cut the brittle air like a knife, shattering the tense tranquility.
Wings the color of night, spread for balance, caught the moonlight upon their dark feathers, drawing strength from it as the lone alicorn crossed the chasm. The castle ahead was but ruin, lit by the calming moonlight to cast ghastly shadows down upon the overgrown grass below.
It was all so familiar, yet so different.
Somehow, the very castle that had once been home of their greatness, had become this. This crumbling mass of stone and glass was her home.
The lone mare hung her head as she crossed the grounds, watching her hooves tromp the grass as the looming rubble drew ever closer. The Everfree Forest was taking it back piece by piece. She lifted her head only upon mounting the stone steps before the grand entrance. Blankets of moss seeped from cracks in the stone and vines curled up the leaning towers like malicious snakes of decay, slowly pulling the weather-worn stone back to earth.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she stepped towards the double doors. The enchanted doors must still have held traces of Celestia’s magic, for they remained hung in their frames. The left door hung slightly ajar, whilst the right hung on only the bottom hinge.
Tendrils of blue magic reaching out, the terrible grate of wood on stone filled the night as the entrance was used for possibly the first time in a thousand years.
It was as magnificent as she remembered.
Two guards clad in the royal armor stood aside with practiced dignity and grace as she strode into the grand chamber. Although it was night, millions of candles lit the elegant chandeliers hung from the domed ceiling, casting their twinkling light over the stained glass lining the chamber. The tapestries of night and day hung above their respective thrones. And there, at her throne, sat a princess of white. She was young and cheerful, her face marked with that gentle, somewhat mischievous smile.
The smile widened, and the princess beckoned. “Sister.”
In a blink it was all gone.
The transition from warm to cold plunged through her being like an icy blade. glancing an unyielding fragment of rubble with a forehoof, she staggered.
The ceiling lay in ruin about the floor, untouched since the day of her banishment. Celestia’s golden throne had been reduced to rubble, leaving only the one beside it in a state of decay, grown over with vines and moss much like everything else. Bronze sconces held only husks of the torches which had burnt away unattended.
A single tear fell to the floor. Then another. Two more, and that was it. Sniffles filled the chamber, echoing from the walls and coming back to her ears with a ghastly overlay. This had been their home. Now it was nothing but ruin. Of course Celestia would no longer be able to use this place, not with the banishment of her sister hanging upon her shoulders. It had not been a light decision—this was known. A small part of Celestia had been banished to the moon as well that day: her innocence; her carelessness and joy. After that day, she had no longer been Sissy, but instead, Princess Celestia, the ruler of both night and day and sole leader of Equestria. It was that day that she was forced to grow up and leave whatever joys of youth remaining within her soul behind for good.
The lone alicorn stopped before the two thrones and torn tapestries. It was that night that she had taken her sister’s innocence, all with her own jealousy and stupid ambition. Looking back upon it now, the decision was foolish. The day was not day without night, for without the cold of the night, there would be no reason to cherish the warmth. And without day, there would be no sunrise to look forward to, no time to to farm and feed, to harvest.
Closing her eyes, she fought back newfound tears.
The breeze that came drove her to think of icy claws as it raked through her fur, tugging and swirling around her form. With the breeze came a creak, the tiniest of minuscule creaks, but it was there. Behind the thrones, on the far right of the chamber, a wooden door braced and bolted with iron swayed on its hinges. Again it creaked and the alicorn’s eyes were inexplicably drawn to it.
“P-Princess?” a guard stammered, trotting swiftly beside her as she strode through a narrow hall. “What is your sorrow?”
“Silence, escort!” she returned. “Round up the tenants of thy castle!”
“For what is your reason, Your Highness?”
She rounded on him. “It does not matter why! Now be gone. Bring them!”
It was like coming out of a dream as the door creaked open under the influence of her outstretched hoof, the spiralling stairway leading down into the depths of the castle.
It would be so much easier if she didn’t remember it, but every detail of that day was locked in her head. She head relived it every day, all day, trapped in the confines of nothing, within the moon for a thousand years. That one day, that one mistake made on a decision thrown at whim. What few ponies realized is that she had not been banished on the moon, but in it. It was cruel irony that she would be imprisoned by her very element. There, in the moon, she had no body and no senses. Only her mind had been with her.
Sometimes her mind forgot she had a body once more. It still tried to wander and roam, as it was doing now.
A cruel dread settled in her heart as she began down stone steps, one echoing hoofstep after the other. This needed to be left alone; it didn’t need to be remembered, but...
What if?
She was forced to light her horn as the steps rounded down and to the left, cutting out the moonlight from the ceilingless throneroom. It was the question that had been eating at her for a thousand years. It had to be answered.
“What is this!?” a mare dressed in flowing attire demanded as she was herded towards the door behind the royal thrones, amongst the hundreds of others. “Thou shan’t treat me with such aggression! What is the meaning of this?”
The pony clad in full armor that stood before her lowered his head. “For your assurance, m’lady.”
“Says whom!?”
Watching from just above, the alicorn flared her mighty wings and dropped down before the mare, hooves clapping like thunder against the stone. “Says I. Now go!”
The mare folded her ears and nodded. “Yes, Princess.” She fell into line with the others.
The dark alicorn turned away, eyes falling upon the polished floor. The moon was powerful, a center of magic that she herself could not understand. But not all of that magic was good. With great power came great danger. Hiding the tenants in the dungeons was practical. It was for their own safety. It was for her own assurance.
Because once she tapped into the power of the moon, it was unforeseeable what she may do.
By the third time around the stairs were beginning to taper, forming a steeper spiral. The air grew colder. Water seeped from the walls, feeding the mold that clogged the small passage with a wet, musty odor so thick it could be felt upon the tongue.
It was twice more around before the stairs finally gave way to flat stone and a long corridor. Jail cells lined the walls, empty. Some still remained locked while others hung wide open.
Her breath fanned out before her as she paced through the gloom towards the second cell block. They hadn’t ever really used these for anything other than storage, but once in a while their true purpose would be served.
The passage gave way to a medium sized room, and at the other end of it, a heavy cage door formed of iron bars and plates. And there, fitted through the latch, was a padlock, a soft blue glow emanating from the keyhole.
“Be this all the tenants?” she demanded impatiently, pressuring the guard who stood before her. He watched as one last mare sidled through the archway into the second cell block, guiding a foal ahead of her.
Maintaining his composure fairly well, he checked a scroll then made two last marks. “Aye, Princess.” Twenty other guards stood around him looking about, their faces a mixture of concern and interest.
“Good.” She tapped her hoof on the cold floor. “Now send your own.”
He blinked, then looked towards the other defenders. “Princess?”
With a growl, her horn flared up as a blue glow engulfed the stallion. He was tossed unceremoniously through the doorway. One look from her firm eyes and the others hurriedly followed. Her blue aura switched to the massive steel door, swinging it shut as the castle guards watched helplessly from the other side.
“What shall we do, Princess?” one asked.
She snapped the heavy lock into place over the latch. Lowering her head, she aimed her horn at the keyhole and set the enchantment. “Remain here and keep calm of the others. When my sister has been defeated I shall return for thee.”
She staggered backwards, only remaining on her hooves only by falling against the wall. “It cannot be!” Her voice echoed away down the tunnel, returning muffled and distorted. Lowering her head, a small wisp of blue magic trickled from the end of her horn and snaked through the keyhole of the lock. There was a brittle snap from the mechanism, then the entire device rusted away before her very eyes.
The iron door creaked as it swung inwards of its own accord, stopping halfway as the middle hinge seized with a pained whine of stubborn refusal.
“It cannot be...” she repeated, more quietly. “Thou must have returned to the castle after—”
Celestia would never return to the castle. It was a mark of shame, a remembrance to the day she had banished her own blood. It made sense.
There, before the gate, was a single set of bones, steel-blue armor still clasped to the form, wearing with a thick layer of dust. The figure held a spear in its forehoof, and evidence of his attempt to pry at the lock was clear and present from the fragments of stone upon the ground and the shattered spearhead.
A few feet back, there was another, curled up as if he had perished in his sleep. The distinguishing markings upon his armor were impossible to miss.
“Froststorm,” she whispered, stepping over the first pair. “Quartermaster.”
Next was a skeleton without armor. “Lufty.” The caterer’s clothing was still fully intact. “Cook.”
She could go no more. Backwards she went, back the way she came and up the winding staircase. She was a goddess! This could not be!
“When my sister has been defeated I shall return for thee.”
The door to the dungeons slammed behind her. Spinning around to face the vile entrance, a bright flash of blue erupted from the tip of her horn. A second later, a deep, splintering sound burst from the door as it was compressed in the frame. The wood splintered and cracked, crushed into itself as the stone around it morphed and stretched to conceal her greatest mistake.
A moment later there was nothing but a wall of stone, perfectly blended with the rest of the ruined castle.
“This never was.” The crisp air stabbed her at lungs like knives, brought into her body in staggering gasps. “Surely nopony knows of this. I would have heard of it.”
Nopony could ever learn of this. Nopony would. If they did, what would they think of her? It had been an accident, and nothing more. Why should they know? Gritting her teeth, she fought back the flowing tears. “I wanted to protect you!”
A single leaf turned over on the floor, stirred by a gentle breeze. Then another. Then thirty. The mare instinctually brought a hoof up to cover her eyes as the central chamber became a wind tunnel, swirling about her in a tornado of debris and dirt.
“Nightmare.” The name sent freezing shivers up the mare’s spine. A single voice had whispered, though it would have been impossible to hear it within the deafening gale had the name not been spoken in her very head.
From the gale moved a figure not of blood nor bone, but shadow. It moved across the stone floor like any normal shadow would, lit by the moonlight. It was as if an invisible pony were casting it upon the ground before her very eyes. Then another appeared, but on the wall to the left, followed by three more. Dozens appeared, until the room was full of them, some shadows threatening to obscure others.
“W-What do you want?” Her normally regal voice was weak and tiny against the wind.
“It is not what we want, but what you seek, and what you deserve.” Their words did not travel from ear to brain, but right to her conscious self. Unlike before, however, instead of just one voice, there were many; mares and stallions alike spoke as one, more than she could count.
They knew what she wanted, but so did she. “I seek forgiveness.” Her voice was lost to the wind, but they must have heard , for the winds escalated until she was struggling to simply remain on her hooves.
“There can be no forgiveness for your evil!” they roared in vicious harmony, the surrounding gail blasting over her like the breath of a thousand voices. “The loss of hundreds rests within your hooves and you seek forgiveness!?”
“Please, I meant you no harm!” Her tears were lost to the wind, sucked into the freezing inferno. “I imprisoned you in hopes of protecting you from it! I was foolish, tainted with jealousy towards my sister. But I was never evil!” The winds began to calm, but only slightly. “I sought power from within the moon, but for fear I would hurt those around me, I hid you away until I could be sure it was safe!” Looking back upon that plan, it was flawed, ignorantly shortsighted. “Once I was banished by my sister, there was nopony to know where you had been kept. Celestia still believes you fled the castle of your own accord, as I had assumed she had freed you until just recently. It was never meant to happen this way!”
Her heart was beating like a rabbit’s, ears popping from the surrounding pressure. “I’m sorry!” The wind began to fade of, slowly, tattered parchment and debris raining to the ground.
The shadows watched her. On the wall ahead, larger than the others, the shape of a pony formed, bright yellow eyes looking down upon her. “With death comes wisdom, and with wisdom comes enlightenment,” the voices whispered.
She bowed her head, eyes closed, silent.
“You, are a fool.” They were hardly audible, but there was no mistaking the rage that was sent through her mind. Emotion stronger than what she would have thought possible clogged her senses: anger, regret, pain, suffering, sadness, but most of all, hate of her.
The resulting blast of wind hurled the alicorn backwards, throwing her against a toppled block of stone. Frantically, she scrambled back to her hooves, too fearful, and ashamed, to even do so much as a light spell.
“Maybe in death, wisdom will come to you as well, for you choose to hide your mistakes instead of learn from them!”
The words hurt more than anything. They hurt because they were true. It was easier to pretend that Nightmare Moon had never existed at all, that it had been nothing more than a tale. Just now, hiding the door, it was very possible that it would have been shoved to the back of her mind and never thought of again.
“I... I know.” There wasn’t much else to do but hang her head. With a good attempt, she could probably escape. The roof was open and the doors behind her will still open, but there was a sickening churning in her gut, one that didn’t wish for escape. It screamed for punishment. Even after a thousand years of disembodied, boring agony, she still wished for punishment, especially now after such a gruesome reveal. Her foolishness had not only hurt her sister, but taken the lives of hundreds.
She had only wanted to protect them.
“Do as you must.” The words that left her mouth were spoken from numb lips, eyes tight shut as she tried to keep her legs from shaking. If any punishment were worthy of her, that done by the hooves of the very ponies she had hurt the most would be most acceptable.
There had never been a more imperfect princess.
“She is sorry,” whispered a single voice amongst the shadowy crowd.
“She regrets,” said another.
The two voices were hurriedly drowned out by many, all muttering to one another. The effect was the aura of standing amongst a bickering crowd, only offset by the fact that nopony was there. Then, as if silenced by a wall, it stopped.
Ears perking, she looked up, daring to open one eye. The shadows were gone, leaving nothing but moonlight and the gentle breeze that ruffled her coat.
She wasn’t ready for the invisible force that hit her like a train. In a much un-alicorn-like fashion, she was hurled backwards through the set of double doors entering the castle. Down the steps and into the grass she went, disoriented, breathless.
“Leave,” they whispered.
Staggering to her hooves, she hardly took notice to the fact that blood stained her muzzle, having run from her nostrils shortly after the sudden concussion. The same went for her ears and tear ducts.
“I-I’m sorry!” She lowered her stance, falling into a bow worthy of a peasant. They could not turn her away without either punishment or forgiveness. Any of the two, but not like this.
The invisible force struck her again, sending her tumbling and crashing right up to the start of the bridge. “Do not return here!”
She was much slower in getting up this time. Her joints ached and her head throbbed. The second blow hadn’t helped her nosebleed.
Desperation set in now. “You cannot let me go without forgiveness! And if not that, then punishment, but I cannot leave like this!”
This time, she braced for the blow she knew was coming. It was like getting hit by a wall of water, only faster and harder. It carried her clear across the chasm and deposited her limp form upon the grass just at the other side.
“You are cursed to live with the knowledge of what you have done,” they spoke.
Trying to pick herself up proved a challenge. She made it halfway before aching hooves gave out and she dropped back into the grass, head spinning like a top. It took everything not to lose her stomach contents. But the blackness was coming, creeping up in the corners of her vision as the voices grew even louder within her head.
“And you will live with the knowledge that you have not earned forgiveness for your naivety, and you never will. This is your punishment.”
“Sister?” This was a new voice, one that was heard with her ears and not with her brain. In the moonlight, illuminated against the treetops, was a white silhouette. “Sister! What has happened!?” Though the tone of the white mare’s voice was loud, it came quietly as unconsciousness crept closer. “Sister, who has done this?” The feeling of being lifted, and cold wind on her coat took over. “You will be alright, Sister. Once I find out...”
The rest of it was lost to unhearing ears.
“You will always be Nightmare Moon.”
Author's Note
I'd kindly like to poke Skeeter and Ruirik for looking over this for me. Errors suck.
