Just Before the Dawn

In the early morning light of a cold winter's day, Princess Celestia sat upon her bed, wrapped in layers of warm fabrics with a steaming cup of tea at her side. Before her, a spread of unrolled scrolls waited to be read; word from the attack on the Nightmare Moon camp in the Midlands. Initial reports told of victory, but at a heavy cost in dead and wounded. Of the five hundred Guard and Legion soldiers tasked with the mission, nearly two hundred had died, with another hundred wounded.

Celestia felt a knot in her throat at the unfortunate loss of so many lives. Were her advisers present, they would have told her that such things were simply the nature of warfare, and that her stallions had died fighting for what they believed in.

It did not make things any easier.

Setting aside the casualty reports, she instead levitated a scroll that was marked by two wings crossed over a mountain, the symbol of Skytalon. Curious, she pulled it closer. It was written in Equestrian, but the words were marked by the angular slashes and aggressive lines of griffon writing.

"To the pony princess," it started. Celestia raised an eyebrow at the informal language. Usually the missives she received were positively overflowing with flowery prose and pomp. "I'm not very good at this whole 'messages to royalty' thing, but your milk-drinking clerks said they'd deliver this to you if I wrote it. I'm sure you've received the reports already about the Midlands. Bloody fight, I can tell you that. We won, though, just like we always do, thanks in no small part to yours truly.

Anyway, I'm not writing you to fluff my own feathers, I wanted to pass on something I thought you might be interested in. Namely, it concerns Cervidae and the redtail."

'Interested' was right. It had been some time since the discovery of the true purpose of Elinwynn's pendant, and her apparent connection to Luna. What was the redtail Empress playing at? Without any further evidence, it was hard to say for sure.

"After we cleared the camp of darkness-worshiping scum sacks, we came upon what appeared to be a hidden room in the largest tent. Before we could investigate we were set upon by a trio of highly skilled magic users, all does: two whitetail and one redtail, the latter appearing to be a leader of some kind. Between the three of them we lost quite a few soldiers, but in the end they too fell before us.

After I got patched up, I got to thinking: why hadn't they been there supporting the main force of cultists? I had a look around that hidden room of theirs, and discovered a bunch of ashes and burnt scrolls in a fire pit. Orders, probably. I don't know from whom they came, but I thought you might. If I had to guess, I'd say they were counting on us not finding them before they could finish getting rid of the evidence. I've included a drawing of a symbol I found on the corner of one of the burnt scrolls, one of the few things that survived the fire. We found a few of those medallions, too, but they'd already been stomped into shattered bits. Oh well.

That's all I've got for now. I'll let you know if we find anything else. Emperor watch over you.

-Battle-Master Gilias"

Not finding an intact medallion wasn't of any great concern, now that Celestia knew what they did -- and whom they communicated with. She had no urge to speak with the thing that used to be Luna any time soon.

The symbol, however, piqued her interest.

The sketch Gilias had made was rough, but discernible, and appeared to show a whirlpool or vortex of some sort, with a stylized eye on either side. Something about it seemed familiar, but Celestia couldn't place her hoof on it. What did it mean, and why was there a redtail seemingly in charge of the whitetail arcanists in the middle of a Nightmare Moon camp?

Puzzled, she floated the scroll into a saddlebag and threw it over her back. If there were any answers to be found, the royal library would be the place to find them.

***

"This is a terrible idea, Victus. I want you to know that before we begin."

Victus hovered at eye level with Tercio, clad in his steel and gold armor, seemingly unfazed. For nearly two days he had tried to convince Tercio to let him help defeat this 'darkness' that so tortured him, but he had not had an easy time of it. Tercio had objected and argued at every available moment, reminding his brother that he had nearly killed the most powerful being in Equestria with his bare hands, despite her magic. Victus didn't care; he only wanted to help, and he would not hear otherwise.

"I'm a Legionary, Tercio. Terrible ideas are my specialty."

"This isn't a joke. Who is here to stop me if you can't?" Tercio motioned to the empty woods around them. A chill breeze rustled the barren branches that reached skyward like skeletal fingers covered in rime and day-old snow.

"I'll be fine, I promise. You may be agile and strong, but last I checked, you can't fly. I can just stay above you if I have to."

Tercio gave up with a sharp exhale. "Gods, you always were the stubborn one, I swear. Alright, fine. We'll do this. But I want you to swear to me that you won't let me harm you, do you understand?"

"Don't worry so--"

"Swear it, Victus!"

"Alright, alright, I swear. I won't let you tear my throat out! Now can we get on with it already? If we take too long Mother is going to worry herself sick. You know how she is."

Tercio mumbled to himself as he snatched a length of rope from the his rucksack, then passed it to Victus. "I don't know how we're supposed to snap me out of it once it's started. In the past I have had to be rendered unconscious, which is obviously too dangerous to rely upon -- for both of us. At times I've managed to resist its influence and become myself again, but never without some sort of traumatic experience. Just because I have not given in to it twice now, does not mean it will not emerge stronger."

Victus shrugged as he circled the tree Tercio had chosen to be tied to, wrapping the rope around his torso over and over. "I'll figure something out. And hey, we have your Luna sword if we need it."

"Nocturne," Tercio corrected him, jerking against the ropes. They didn't so much as budge. At least Victus seemed to know what he was doing in that regard.

"Right, Nocturne. We'll see what happens." Satisfied with his work, Victus landed with a squelching of wet soil. He just had to laugh at the sight. "When I received word that I would be on leave, I hadn't expected to spend it tying my brother to a tree. This isn't some sort of...thing you're into, is it? Because that would be a bit strange."

"Just do like we discussed, you ass," Tercio answered with a laugh of his own. It was so surreal; tied up in the middle of the woods by his own sibling, waiting for the inevitable loss of sanity that came with the onset of his affliction. It was too strange to not find some sort of humor in.

The smile faded from Victus' face as the reality of their situation set in. He finished tying a knot in the thick rope and said, "I hope this works."

"It will. I trust you." A pull against his bindings made sure he couldn't move. "Victus, if you are somehow unable to help me, if it looks like I will harm you or anyone else -- especially, gods forbid, Mother and Father -- I want you to promise me you'll do whatever it takes to stop me. Even if it costs me my life."

"It won't come to that," Victus said reassuringly.

"But if it does?"

"If it does, then...I'll worry about it then and there. But only if I absolutely must."

"Right, I'll take your word for it. We'll see what happens." It was suddenly quiet between them as Tercio steeled himself against what would inevitably be a traumatic experience for both of them.

"You ready?" Victus asked.

"I suppose I am," Tercio said nervously. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of cold, clean air. Half-remembered scenes of battle played before him, foggy glimpses of violence and struggles. These, he knew, were the fragments of the times when he had fallen under the magic within his own body. Distant voices sounded all around him, snapping into clarity as he focused on them. He could hear the words of Alinalyys as she taunted him, both in her own language and Equestrian.

"Vala--Valadriix parn ind'wyyl," he said out loud, matching his mouth to the doe in his visions. The words were as clear as day, as if they'd somehow stuck with him since the attack near Canterlot.

Victus repeated the phrase back to his brother, just as they'd discussed, the foreign words feeling strange on his tongue. He had no way of knowing what they meant. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Strange, like...like I can't understand the words, but I can feel them," Tercio answered, his eyes still shut tight. "The doe who tried to take me away, she was the one who said that phrase. I can see her now just as plainly as if she were standing before me."

"And what do you 'feel' from these words?"

"It is hard to describe, but...a sense of purpose, as if I am carrying out an assigned task. It's so strong. Maybe...valadriix parn...Victus, untie me."

Victus cocked his head. "What?"

"Untie me, I can't do this if I'm--"

"Absolutely not. We had a deal, remember?"

"Untie me!" he shouted, jerking against the ropes that strained with his weight. He rested his head against the rough tree bark and shut his eyes once more. "I'm sorry. I just had the strongest urge to be free."

"Because of the words?"

Already he felt some small part of him giving in."Yes. Do you see the power they hold over me? Even the smallest of phrases alters my mind so."

Now he was back in the sparring ring, shortly after joining the Praetorians. Clashing steel flashed and glinted in his mind's eye, his opponents swiftly defeated one after another. Polaris matched him blow for blow, a stalemate of martial skill that caused murmurs of excitement from the others. "I'm ready, brother. Say the word."

Victus hesitated, taking a half-step back. He wanted to help, truly he did, but he did not know if he was ready to see the brother he'd grown up with in such a terrifying state as he'd been told. "Just give me a moment," he said, almost pleadingly. It was possible he would never speak with Tercio again if things went wrong. How would he possibly explain such a thing to their parents? Tears threatened to well up in his eyes, and he turned to wipe them away without being seen. "Alright. Let's be rid of this darkness within you, gods willing. I will not let you suffer under its grasp for a day longer."

***

The great halls of Canterlot's royal library never seemed to stop growing. Every time Celestia visited the old building there was a new book shelf or chest full of scrolls, and the further one walked into its depths the further back in time they were transported. Paper gave way to parchment, parchment to papyrus. Look hard enough, and ancient runes could be found etched into stone tablets. The entire history of the ponykind, preserved for the ages.

Unfortunately, its vast size made finding a particular piece of history difficult at times. Celestia pulled the note from her bag and looked at it once more, studying the symbol that looked so similar but continued to elude her. Nearly half an hour of fruitless searching had passed, full of stacked books and unrolled scrolls. It had to be recent history, she was sure of it.

Eventually she came across a stack of scrolls from over two centuries past, dusty and unused for countless years. They had been bound together with a tag that read "On the Status of Equestria and Her Neighbors - Hostile and Allied".

Hopeful, she levitated the scrolls over to a large table and spread them out before her. There were dozens of them, hearkening back to the earliest days of her rule, when her sister was still too young to join her on the dais. She'd been less than two hundred years old at the time, barely more than an awkward filly by the standards of her parents.

The first pair of scrolls turned out to be nothing more than stockpile statistics and storage availability. If nothing else, it was good to see that Equestrian grain production had not tapered in the last two hundred years.

After that came a lengthy, dry description of military formations and ceremonial pomp, presumably intended for the Royal Guard. Some of the names were still familiar, memories of proud service to the crown from stallions who had long since passed on to the next life. Their descendants likely had never heard of them, but Celestia could remember their faces like they had just stood before her. How many more names would live on only in records during her rule? How many more would she forget?

She shook her head and set the scroll aside. No point in worrying about such things for the moment.

Soon she came across a long length of parchment that had been stamped with the royal seal of the sun and moon. "The Armies of the Deerfolk, a Compendium". The old document was written in the same dry, official language as the others, but something was different: a set of intricately detailed symbols stretched along the top as a sort of index. They were as varied as the flowers in her garden, and sometimes nearly as beautiful. The deer had always had a penchant for aesthetics, from the sweeping curves of their homes to the glimmering crystal and marble towers of their capital. So, too, did their fighting forces share this trait; detailed quinn-blades crossed over segmented shields, raven heads against a backdrop of tall trees, geometric patterns that formed themselves into delicate frost sprays like a thousand windblown snowflakes.

And there, near the end of the stack of pages, she saw it: the symbol that had been sent to her all the way from the Midlands, deep within the heart of Whitetail. A pair of eyes, feminine yet firm, stared back at her, drawn in thin strokes of black ink. Between them, a cyclone of purple magic. She looked to the scroll, then to the missive from Gilias, making sure they were the same.

It was an exact match. She had seen that symbol before, long ago. Rejuvenated by the find, she levitated the information scroll before her and read the detailed print.

"9th Arcane and Ethereal Research Collective, Whitetail Primarus and associated legions. Formerly part of the 3rd Magii, the 9th Arcane is an offshoot of Whitetail's extensive studies into magical forces both in their lands and abroad.

Details on their operations and methodologies are limited, due to their insistence on individual units remaining mostly scattered and independent of one another. Evidence of cross-factional (Redtail and Whitetail) co-operation is limited, but given the level of magical prowess it is unlikely that such efforts are solely the focus of one or the other.

Recommend continued observation and infiltration, by order of General Plaesius Mercius and General Threshwheat, 2E 208."

A note was written under the text in red ink: "9th Arcane believed destroyed by Legion operations as of 2E 214. Destruction of the Second confirmed. All information gathering is hereby halted by order of Princess Luna, 2nd of the Court."

Celestia gasped. When had Luna ordered such a thing? It had been a dark time for Equestria and Whitetail, of that there was no doubt, but Luna had always consulted with her before issuing royal edicts, especially at such a young age. Who were the 9th Arcane, and why hadn't she been told of its connection to the Second? It seemed that Luna had known far more than she had let on, but she could not be sure to what end.

Something was going on in Whitetail, something very wrong. Luna, Nightmare Moon, the 9th, Elinwynn, Corvalix, the deer on both sides of the border...somehow they were all connected, pieces of an incomplete puzzle.

***

That night, Celestia dreamed of Luna for the first time in weeks. They stood in a clearing in the middle of the forest, clad in protective armor that left only their flowing manes and tails exposed. Dead and dying littered the ground, deer and pony alike.

At her side, Luna breathed heavily, her silvered plate dirtied by fresh blood that glinted in the moonlight. She was so young, so beautiful, but her innocence had been snatched away from her in a single day. Where once there was compassion and kindness, now only bitterness and resentment was left.

"It is done," dream-Luna said, her voice distorted as if carried on the wind. "We have slain the Second."

Celestia forced herself to glance at the shattered corpse laying at her hooves before quickly turning away with a sour taste in her mouth. So many lives lost, and for what? Where had it come from? Why had it chosen now to return?

"Are you alright?" Celestia asked in concern.

"We have succeeded where Mother and Father failed, sister. There is little more we could ask for. Our citizens may once again sleep without fear." Luna pulled the helm from her head and dropped it to the ground. "Shortly we shall begin walking among the dreams of Equestria's commoners. The sleeping mind does not lie, nor does it speak condescendingly in words couched in flowery platitudes. We grow weary of such things."

"They were scared, Luna," Celestia argued. "Can you really blame them? That is why they came to us."

Luna ignored her sister, yanking her sword from the body with a trail of white magic sheathed in sparkling midnight. "We cannot allow this to happen again, no matter the cost. Swear to me, dearest sister, that such a tragedy shall never befall Equestria again under our watch."

"You know I would do anything in my power to--"

"Swear it!" Celestia hesitated as her sister took a step forward and glared at her with barely-contained anger. "If we should find those responsible for this monster, we shall see every last one of them driven unto the blade!" Luna stuck an accusatory hoof against Celestia's armored chest. "Look around you, Celestia, and know that they died because you chose mercy! You are weak!"

With a start Celestia woke from her restless slumber, her heart pounding in her ears. She had not seen Luna in her waking hours for nearly a month, but now, somehow fittingly in a perverse way, she was tormented in her dreams. She clutched her pillow against her chest, and wished she could turn back time.

***

Tercio suddenly slumped, his head hanging loosely against his chest. Long seconds passed before he attempted to stand upright again, and as he did so it was clear that he was struggling against something. He grunted in pain and gritted his teeth, shaking with untold anger, but Victus saw that he was still himself for the moment.

"I can feel it inside me, like a sickness. It's so hard to...to focus."

It had been less than a minute since Victus had twice spoken the deertongue word to his brother. Watching him writhe in anguish against an unknowable enemy was something he didn't think he'd ever forget.

"What do you see?"

"Blood. Everywhere. And you, right there, so close...so weak. I could..." Tercio formed his hands into fists as he started to pull against the ropes, locking eyes on his brother like a hunting predator.

"Tercio?" Victus stepped back, terrified by what he saw. Tercio was straining so hard that the ropes were digging into his skin, drawing small drops of blood as they cut into him. It was a battle of the mind, and one that he was losing with every second. He fought with all of his might to escape his confines, his face now a mask of insatiable bloodlust and anger that sent a chill down Victus' spine. "Fight it, Tercio! You have to! You've beaten it before, don't let it control you!"

For a moment Tercio threw his head back against the tree trunk, shaking and convulsing as he tried to gain control of his own body and mind once more. His eyes snapped open, and for a brief time he spoke as himself in a strained, halting voice.

"The...the sword, Victus! Give..."

And then he was gone, lost to the darkness within once again. Victus hesitantly pulled Nocturne from a ring mount on his side, watching as it glowed with magical energy. It seemed to jerk forward on its own, nearly yanking itself from his mouth, fighting to be reunited with its owner.

Slowly he approached his brother, unsure if giving such a weapon to someone who was clearly not of his own mind was a good idea. But if it would help...

Tercio grabbed for him as he came close, pulling a trail of red hairs from the crest of his helm.

"Equestrii...fal'naas endwyyl!"

The deertongue words came from Tercio's mouth, but his voice was rough and harsh. Nocturne shook in Victus' grasp, almost struggling against him. Its hilt grew hotter until it burned like a heated forge, and he dropped it with a shout of pain, letting it tumble into the snow where it sizzled and steamed.

He was nearly in a panic as he removed his insulating winter garments and wrapped them around his forelegs, using the fabric as a barrier to pick up the sword. Cautiously he moved to closer to Tercio, noticing that the grip no longer seemed hot as it approached its owner.

"Take it," he said, keeping his wings out and ready to escape if he had to. "Take it!"

As Tercio made a frenzied grab for him, the fingers of his hand brushed against the silvered steel. For a time the madness in his eyes faded, and he inhaled sharply as he fought against himself. He quickly took the sword in his grasp, clutching it against his chest. He tried to speak but the words would not come to him, caught in his throat as he coughed and gasped for air.

The runes along Nocturne's fuller started glowing, subtle and faint, with the colors of the night. Soft white light soon joined it, starting from the pommel and working its way up to the tip of the blade. Then, all at once, the light shot back down through the sword and rushed into Tercio's hand, snaking its way up through his arm in dozens of tendrils of magical energy that almost seemed to be alive.

Victus could do little more than watch in disbelief as the light reached Tercio's chest and spread out, surrounding his heart. And then it stopped, as if it had hit a wall. Tercio spasmed with a pained choking sound, his body straining and shaking, and that's when Victus saw it -- the black mass that had begun to push back against the magic of Luna's sword. It was nearly incorporeal, a faint, smokey cloud of roiling fog that swirled and churned under his brother's skin like a storm cloud. It clashed with the light, enveloping and consuming it, and within moments it had spread to nearly his entire body.

Tercio was plainly in agony, tears streaming down his face. What could Victus hope to do? He shouted encouragement, but it felt like a hollow gesture against something as terrible and powerful as the force that had finally revealed itself.

Nocturne would not give up so easily. Soon it was wrapped in a coalescing sheathe of sparkling, glinting magic, almost blindingly bright, a beacon of pure energy that lit up the forest all around.

"I...I know what I have to do," Tercio said as the dark magic seeped into his eyes and distorted his voice.

"What do you mean? Tercio, what do you have to do?!" Victus stepped closer again, wishing desperately that he could do something, anything to help.

Resisting his own body, Tercio grabbed onto the sword with both hands, grasping it above the hilt, and flipped it over so that the tip of the blade was pointed at him. The dark force inside him knew what was coming, felt it stirring through his mind, and it sent a wave of pain through his body like a stream of molten metal. He yelled out in agony and retched onto the ground, but he would not give in, no matter how much it cost him.

"I love you, brother."

The last specks of white in his eyes dissolved into inky blackness, and with a shout he plunged the blade into his chest.

"No!" Victus leapt into the air and sliced the ropes away as a spurt of blood stained Tercio's lips and rolled down his chin. He struggled and twitched for a scant few seconds before falling to the wet soil, the color draining from his face with the bloodied point of Nocturne protruding from his back.

"Oh, gods! Tercio! Tercio!"

With the last ounce of his strength Tercio took a pained, choking breath, looking up at Victus with pleading eyes.

And then there was only the blowing of the wind through the trees, and the silence as Tercio fell still.