It was a hot, sunny night.
Directly overhead of the Castle of the Two Sisters, the sun gazed down as would a tyrant, observing its kingdom. Ponies moved sluggishly through the small surrounding town with their heads cast towards the ground to allow their eyes to adapt to the intensely bright light. Every now and then, one would glance upwards and frown at the uncaring disc that sat unmoving in the center of the sky.
The air stood still, which only made the temperature that much more uncomfortable. Not a breeze or even a single wisp of wind ghosted through the air to help cool off those suffering. Brown, brittle blades of grass outnumbered the green as the suffocating heat took its toll.
All around the castle, ponies bustled in the sweltering atmosphere. A crew of construction workers labored tirelessly in their efforts to remove the giant piles of debris that lay strewn across the grounds. A particularly massive hole opened into the castle’s throne room and allowed the sunlight entrance, where before it had only been able to seep in through the stained glass windows.
Starting from the massive doors that led into the throne room, a line of ponies wrapped around the castle, waiting for a chance to see one of their princesses. They all wanted an answer to the same question, but as of yet none of them had been allowed entrance. Angry mutterings wafted through the air as the petitioners tried their best to stay cool, be it by fanning themselves or by vying for a spot in a rare patch of shade.
A number of guards stood at regular intervals along the line to keep order amongst the increasingly impatient petitioners. One of the armored stallions repeatedly glanced back and forth as his hoof probed under the armor to sooth the parts of his body where the gear chafed. Lines of sweat ran down the guard’s face and dug furrows through his dark-brown coat.
One of the petitioners, a unicorn stallion, turned to the fidgety soldier. “Hey, are you ever going to let us in?” he asked with a scowl. When the guard didn’t respond, the civilian craned his head to look him in the eye. “I asked you a question, colt!”
After a moment of internal deliberation, the guard sighed and returned the other pony’s gaze. “The doors will open when the princess is ready to receive you,” he intoned drily.
“All I want to know is what’s going on!” the unicorn said. “The sun’s been up for at least three days now, and none of my family can sleep! The princesses haven’t run away, have they?”
“Um, well...” The besieged stallion gulped and wiped another bead of sweat from his brow. “They aren’t—”
“Ah, so something did happen, didn’t it?” The unicorn smirked as he pressed his advantage. “It has something to do with the moon coming up early a while back, doesn’t it? And all of those explosions, am I right? Well? Out with it!”
With a dark expression on his face, the soldier opened his mouth to retort, only to be interrupted by a barking voice from behind. “Recruit Gumwing!”
“It’s Greenwing!” Only too late did he try to bite off the end of his sentence. A gryphon, wearing armor identical to Greenwing’s, scowled and put her beak an inch from his face.
“Oh, thanks for the correction,” she said. “Like I didn’t have enough to deal with, now one of my guards is talking back!”
Greenwing snapped to attention and fixed his gaze on a point straight ahead. “Captain, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“I didn’t put you out here to talk! I put you out here to stand guard!”
Greenwing’s right eye twitched. “Yes, sir!”
“None of the other ponies I have out here think they can take a break to have a chat with a civilian,” the captain said. “What makes you think you’re special?”
He glanced at the stallion who had been complaining, but no help appeared to be on the way from that quarter. “Nothing, sir!”
“I bet you were just answering a question,” she said softly so that nopony else could hear her words. “You must present an image of absolute vigilance! Is this really such a difficult thing to understand, Nightie?” Her voice dripped venom.
Greenwing’s eyes narrowed. “So exactly what part of you berating me gives an ‘image of absolute vigilance’?” he said loudly.
A hush instantly fell over the immediate area. Everypony nearby took a long step away from Greenwing and his superior, whose face had flushed deep red.
Greenwing shrank backwards, away from the steaming gryphon. “Wait—” He held up a placating hoof “—what I meant was—”
“Recruit Goatwand!” she roared as she finally found her voice.
“It’s Greenwing,” he said, unable to stop himself.
“You think you can talk back because your father was commander?!”
“No, I—”
“That kind of behavior might have been accepted in the Lunar Guard, but it won’t work with me.” A wicked grin spread across the captain's face. “Not only will you finish your shift here, you also get to cover your relief’s shift. Am I understood?”
“Yes, sir!” Greenwing snapped off a smart salute.
“I thought so.” She turned to leave, but paused to make one last remark over her shoulder. “And don’t think that you’re off the hook yet.” That said, she spread her wings and flew to an overhead balcony.
The moment the captain left his sight, Greenwing sighed and relaxed his posture. “This would have never happened in the Lunar Guard,” he growled.
“Yooou got in trooooublllle,” sang a nearby colt as he pointed at the disgraced guard.
“Shut it, you.” Greenwing directed a glare the small pony’s way. He sighed and resigned himself to another eight hours of misery in the blisteringly hot weather.
Inside the castle, two unicorns, a stallion and a mare, stood at a pair of ornate golden doors. The metal depicted numerous scenes of the sun rising at the behest of a majestic alicorn.
The stallion, wearing a set of thick robes despite the heat, wrung his hooves together as his eyes bored holes through the golden artwork. “It’s been a while since he went in.”
The mare slowly leafed through a thick tome. “Calm yourself.” Although she wore similar garments, her robes were open at the chest and the hood hung backwards, letting her golden mane flow freely.
“But what if she sends him away, too?” he said. “What if nopony can get through to her? What if—”
“Chestnut!” the mare said in a voice that, while lacking sharpness, still caught his full attention. His eyes immediately snapped over and locked onto hers. “Calm. Yourself. The scholar’s been in there for at least twenty minutes, which is the longest so far. Perhaps he will be the one to calm her.”
“Well, forgive me if I can’t take this in stride like the great Dusty Scroll,” Chestnut said, waving his hooves in her direction. “I’m only thinking of the well-being of all of Equestria! How silly of me to be worried!”
Dusty sighed and closed her book. “I’m as worried as you are. However, the only thing fretting will garner is gray in your mane. Princess Celestia would be better served if we keep our minds cool.”
“Princess Celestia would be better served if she would let us do our jobs and advise her,” Chestnut said. He returned his gaze to the massive doors. “And you know what my first piece of advice would be? Lower the stupid sun!”
“I feel that there is more to this than we know,” Dusty said, sighing once more. She was about to continue when the jingling of medals announced the commander of the Royal Guard’s arrival, accompanied by a gryphon who bore the insignia of a captain. “Ah, Commander Vigil. How go the matters outside?”
Vigil gestured to the gryphon. “The captain, in fact, justeth—" Chestnut glanced at Dusty and rolled his eyes "—finishedeth surveyingeth the—”
"Commander." Dusty frowned at Vigil. "I realize that you wish to adapt to your new station as quickly as possible, but now is not the time for you to practice speaking like a noble."
"Fine," Vigil snapped. "Gabriella, tell Her Majesty's advisers how things go outside." She glanced at the captain, who snapped a sharp salute.
“Everything outside is as well as you’d expect.” Gabriella frowned and put a claw to her chin. “Except for lazy sentries,” she added as an afterthought.
“There you have it,” Vigil said with a dismissive wave. “Have you made any progress here?”
“None whatsoever!” Chestnut threw his forehooves into the air. “It’s as if the princess has lost all reason!”
Dusty cleared her throat gently. “Be calm, Chestnut.” She returned her attention to Vigil. “Have your scouts anything to report on Princess Luna’s whereabouts?” Once again, Vigil glanced at Gabriella, who took her cue.
“They say she’s nowhere to be found,” Gabriella said with a snort. “Those layabouts couldn’t find their own flanks if they weren’t attached to them.”
“I’m sure Princess Luna will show up when she finishes whatever little game she’s playing.” Vigil leaned against a wall and casually examined her front hooves.
Trembling, Chestnut whipped around to face the languid mare. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that! I don’t think she’s actually coming back! Why else would Princess Celestia command that the Lunar Guard be disbanded?”
“You’re a jumpy one, aren’t you?” Vigil said as she glanced over him appraisingly.
“Speaking of the Lunar Guard’s dispersal, it is my understanding that you have recruited a number of them into Princess Celestia’s own Royal Guard,” Dusty said. “You are yourself new to your position as commander, are you not? Are you having any difficulties getting the guards adapted to their duties?”
“I can assure you that I’m more than qualified for my job.” Vigil frowned at Dusty as she spoke. However, when the other mare’s expectant gaze continued, Vigil sighed and averted her eyes. “Captain Gabriella has been given responsibility for the new recruits. Captain?”
“The recruits have been given their positions,” Gabriella said immediately. “Despite some difficulties getting used to staying awake with the sun up—”
“Not that they have a choice, these days,” Chestnut muttered to Dusty.
“—I feel that they will soon be acclimated to life in the Royal Guard. However, I find their sense of discipline severely lacking. Their superiors in the Lunar Guard were far too lenient regarding breaches of protocol.”
Just as Dusty opened her mouth to ask another question, the doors blew open and a young unicorn, barely out of colthood, came tumbling through. The three ponies, two with shocked expressions and one with nothing save curiosity, beheld Princess Celestia standing in the doorway. For her part, Gabriella glanced away and shuffled her talons. The princess’s normally flowing mane hung to one side, clumped together from days of neglect. She leaned ever so slightly to the side as she regarded her subjects.
“All that I want,” Celestia said slowly, “is to be left alone.” Her fierce gaze drifted to the prone scholar, who started to tremble.
“Princess!” Chestnut said as she turned back to her chambers. “Please, will ye not just talk to us?”
The princess’s steps halted, and with a sigh, she looked over her shoulder. “What do you want to speak with me about?”
Dusty opened her mouth, but Vigil stepped forward and immediately cut her off. “Firsteth of all, when willeth thee lowereth the sun?” she said loudly.
“Fool!” Dusty said, eyes flaring. “Princess, please ignore that, why don’t we—”
Celestia’s face darkened, and she suddenly seemed to loom over everypony else. “Dusty Scroll, when We are prepared, We shall come forth and see to matters. Until then, leavest Us in peace.” The doors shut with a heavy sense of finality.
“Oh, well done,” Chestnut said to Vigil. “What an impressive show of diplomacy. You got her angry enough to use the royal 'We'! She never uses the royal 'We'!” He snorted and turned away. "You know, since you're so good at this, why don't you be Her Majesty's adviser? We could trade, and maybe the guards would get something done for once—"
“That is enough, Chestnut,” Dusty said before Vigil could retort. “I agree that we could have handled that better, but what’s done is done. The important thing is what we do next.” She turned to the still-trembling scholar, who had already begun to edge away from the group. “Did you learn anything about Her Majesty’s mood?”
“W-w-well—” The shaking pony dusted himself off “—she wouldn’t t-tell me anything about lowering the s-sun, but that wasn’t what made her m-mad.”
The three older ponies waited, but the colt didn’t offer anything else. “And?” Vigil said impatiently.
The timid scholar flinched away from this new terror. “Well, um… sh-she didn’t want to talk about…” His throat bobbed as he swallowed heavily. “She didn’t want to t-talk about h-her… h-her sister. I’m s-sorry, but can I go lie d-down now?”
“Yes,” Dusty said, patting him on the back. “Thank you for your help.” Within a moment, the colt was out of sight. “Well, my friends, what are we to do with our dear princess?”
“Didn’t you hear her?” Chestnut said as he dropped his hoof onto her shoulder. “She said she wants to be left alone. This is the closest thing to a command we’ve gotten in days, and we’re just going to ignore it?”
“Of course we aren’t,” Dusty said. “However, we also cannot just leave things as they are. It’s clear that Princess Celestia is not in her usual state of mind. We must do what we can to bring her back to normal, or close enough for the kingdom to run properly.”
“I think a larger guard presence would help,” Vigil said with a hoof on her chin. “If worse comes to worse and chaos breaks out, we’ll want enough forces to keep the peace.”
“Commander, you were recently promoted,” Dusty said, “and the reports I have read indicate that you are having issues managing your guards at their current numbers. I suggest you focus on acclimating to your new position before you turn to increasing the guard ranks.”
“The matter at hand can be solved diplomatically,” Chestnut added. “The military is not the solution to our problems!”
“What’s the—” Vigil began, but a gasp from Dusty interrupted her. “Is something the matter?”
“Chestnut, I believe you have given me an idea,” Dusty said slowly. “Maybe the military is the solution.”
“You… you aren’t suggesting a coup, are you?” he said, eyes widening.
“Don’t be ridiculous, that’s not what I mean,” Dusty said. “I mean, perhaps Her Majesty would be willing to open herself up to a guard.”
“Now you’re the one being ridiculous,” Chestnut said. “We’ve sent the castle’s most accomplished diplomats into that room with her, and not one of them has gotten more than a swift boot out the door. If we sent a guard in there to talk to her, she’d tear the poor pony apart!”
“That isn’t necessarily true.” Dusty put a hoof on her chin and gazed at the ceiling contemplatively. “Princess Celestia has already rejected everyone that we have sent in thus far. Perhaps a different type of pony will see different results.”
Vigil sighed and leaned against a wall. “How can you know such a thing? What makes you think that matters?”
Realization dawned in Chestnut's eyes. “Hold on, I think Dusty’s onto something. You’re talking about the gryphons, right?” Gabriella leaned forward.
“Indeed,” Dusty replied. “Whenever Princess Celestia has any type of diplomatic meeting with a gryphon, she exhibits a charisma that otherwise does not come forth. I believe it to be because gryphons, typically, are very straightforward. If you’ll excuse the generalization,” she said to Gabriella, who gave a sharp nod. “Perhaps Her Majesty merely finds it a refreshing change of pace, but regardless, the difference is there.”
“Commander,” Chestnut said, “can we trust you to choose an appropriate candidate to go through with this?”
“Of course.” Vigil turned, beckoning for her subordinate to follow. “I shall send Captain Gabriella and the chosen guard within the hour.” They moved down the hallway and turned a corner, where Vigil pulled Gabriella close.
“Commander?”
“Captain, I want whoever we choose to be from amongst the new recruits,” Vigil whispered. “You heard what that colt said, right? About Her Majesty not wishing to speak of her sister?”
Gabriella's eyes widened. “You want to send in one of Princess Luna’s guards to agitate her?!”
“Sh!” Vigil glanced around to make sure nopony had heard them. “Maybe if we can shake her up, she’ll be more willing to do her duties, correct?” Gabriella frowned, but slowly nodded her head. “And, if worse comes to worse, I’d rather it not be one of our own that gets caught up in Her Majesty’s wrath, eh?”
“I suppose.” Gabriella put a claw to her chin and grinned as she considered the options. “Sir, I think I know just the stallion you’re looking for.”
Greenwing shambled through a side door, taking one last look at the line of petitioners. For the entire duration of his long shift, it hadn’t progressed at all.
The temperature in the castle was even higher than outside, a fact that irritated him to no end. “Princess Luna wouldn’t have ignored the problem like this,” he grumbled as he yanked his helmet off. The mass of black hair that made up his mane tumbled out in a single drenched clump and stuck to his neck, even after he shook his head. “When she gets back, I’m sure she’ll make this all better.” But is she even coming back?
He blinked as that unwelcome thought crossed his mind. Luna often left the castle, sometimes for days at a time, and usually confided in nopony as to her destination. However, she always returned when something important called for her attention, and seventy-two hours of perpetual sunlight certainly qualified as such.
Closing his eyes, Greenwing envisioned a lightly smiling Luna, but the tranquil image was almost immediately ruined as she vanished into the darkness. He shook his head again to clear it of the disturbing premonition. “Of course she’s coming back,” he said under his breath.
He moved through the castle at a snail’s pace, pausing every now and then to wave when a passing acquaintance recognized him. Finally, he reached the armory and started to strip out of the suffocatingly hot Royal Guard armor. As he hung the breastplate on a peg, a nearby earth pony stallion noticed him and trotted over.
“You look a little tired,” he said to Greenwing, who just groaned in response. “Thanks for covering my shift, by the way!”
Greenwing didn’t have the energy to glare, so he instead settled on a heavy-lidded stare. “Shut it, Trip—it wasn’t my idea. You can thank Captain Gabriella for that.”
“Yeah, I heard she gave you a rough time.” Trip dropped a hoof on his friend’s shoulder.
Greenwing growled and slammed his helmet into a cubby. “You’d never see an officer act like that in the Lunar Guard. Princess Luna made sure that her guards were courteous! It’s disgraceful!”
“I know what you mean.” Trip led his friend out of the armory and back towards the guards’ quarters. “Look at it from her perspective, though. She’s only had the job for a month, and already there’s a crisis for her to deal with. Wouldn’t you be a little worked up, too?”
“It doesn’t mean she needs to get so angry,” Greenwing said, but much of the venom had left his voice. “I really miss being a Lunar Guard.”
“If you want the Ol’ Nighties reinstated,” Trip said consolingly, “why don’t you talk to the princess when she gets back from… wherever she is?”
“Her Majesty doesn’t just sit around for me to chat with her all night,” Greenwing said, wiping the sweat out of his eyes.
“I know that!” Trip said. “But I also know that she likes you more than just about anypony else we know.”
“Just because she can remember my name doesn’t mean she likes me.”
They continued their friendly argument right up until the point where a sprinting mare collided with them, sending all three tumbling to the carpeted floor in a mad jumble of legs and curses.
“Darn it, Altone!” Greenwing snapped at the newcomer. “I keep telling you to watch where you’re going! Whose hoof is digging into my back?”
“Sorry, that’s mine,” Trip said, trying and failing to remove the offending limb. “Altone, would you get off of me?”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” the mare cried. “I was in such a hurry that my helmet slipped over my eyes and I couldn’t see and I—”
“It’s alright, just get off us!” With a grunt, Greenwing managed to slide himself out of the pile. “What’re you running around for this time?”
Altone stared at him for a second before recognition flashed in her eyes. “Oh! Right!” She reached into her saddlebag and pulled out a loosely bound scroll. “Missive from Captain Gabriella for you!”
A slight feeling of dread fell onto the exhausted stallion. And don’t think that you’re off the hook yet.
“Let’s get this over with,” Greenwing mumbled, accepting the correspondence and slipping off the string that bound it.
“I’m not one to complain about lying underneath a pretty mare,” Trip said as his friend read the letter, “but I can’t really feel my legs anymore.”
“Hm?” Altone glanced down and realized that she still sat on Trip's back. “Ah! Sorry!” An exasperated groan drew both of their attentions over to their beleaguered, who looked about ready to cry.
“What is she getting at?” Greenwing said.
“Why? What does it say?” Trip clambered to his hooves and stretched.
“The captain wants me to report to the royal suites immediately!” Greenwing dropped to his haunches. “I just got off of a double shift! Isn’t this a bit too much to ask?”
“Wow,” Trip said. “Who would’ve thought that talking back to your superior officer might come with consequences?”
“I’m too tired for sarcasm,” Greenwing said, hanging his head. He took a few steps down the corridor before Altone’s voice called out.
“The captain told me something else,” she said with an apologetic smile. “She said to tell you to bring your old Lunar Guard armor.”
“Probably for when she has you clean the princesses’ lavatories,” said Trip.
“You’re a real friend, you know that?” Greenwing said over his shoulder before stalking around a corner.
His hooves scuffed lightly against the thick carpet that extended down the hallway. On the walls, torches loudly crackled, lit despite the copious sunlight that beamed through the stained glass windows. As he approached a cross-hall, Greenwing paused to let a pair of workers pass. The sweating laborers each pushed a wheelbarrow filled with debris.
He only had a few more minutes of tromping through the stuffy castle before he reached his personal quarters. He shouldered his way through the door and shut it behind him. In the small room’s corner, a low bed beckoned invitingly. He cast it an envious glance before he turned to the closet and pulled it open.
A deluge of boxes and papers fell out, nearly knocking Greenwing to the ground. With a massive effort, he forged a path through the clutter and dug into the back of the small space.
“Where is it? I swear, I just had it,” he muttered as he threw more and more of his unused things aside. Finally, the true prize came into sight. “Aha!”
Dark-purple metal glistened in the sunlight as Greenwing hefted a breastplate out into the open, followed shortly thereafter by a similarly composed helmet.
“It’s only been three days,” he mused, lovingly admiring the polished armor, “and I already miss you.” He pulled the breastplate over his head and yanked it down. It took some effort, but he finally managed to get his wings through the back and slid the piece snugly into place.
A familiar tingling sensation washed over his back as the armor’s illusion enchantment took effect. Greenwing glanced at his wings, which, while normally covered in feathers, were now naked and leathery. He spread them out to their fullest in order to get a better look.
The helmet was far easier to don than the breastplate, and the moment it rested on his head, he felt another illusion spell sharpen his front teeth.
“Well, let’s go see what Gabriella wants.” After one final glance at his bat-like wings, Greenwing was out the door and on his way.
Outside of Princess Celestia’s chambers, little had changed. Chestnut paced back and forth before the monstrous doors while Dusty Scroll jotted down notes in an aged ledger. Eyes closed, Captain Gabriella leaned against a wall.
“Captain, you did say you were getting somepony, right?” Chestnut asked.
“For the twentieth time, yes,” Gabriella replied without so much as opening her eyes. Dusty’s quill scratched another mark.
“Then where is he?” Chestnut asked with his hooves thrown in the air.
“What makes you think that ‘he’ isn’t a ‘she’?” Dusty said serenely. She licked her hoof and flipped to the next page.
“It was just an assumption,” he said as he rolled his eyes.
Gabriella had her mouth open to comment when the soft sound of hoofsteps on carpet reached her ears. “I think our lamb has arrived.” Dusty threw her a sharp glance, but before she could say anything, Chestnut gasped.
“What—” he said. “What—Why is he wearing that?” Garbed in the armor of the Lunar Guard, the newcomer stepped up to Gabriella and saluted.
“I’m glad to see you can obey orders, Ginwand,” Gabriella said, acknowledging him with a nod.
“Captain,” he said tersely, then added under his breath, “It’s Greenwing.”
“You should pat yourself on the back, because you have been given the honor of being Equestria’s savior.” She put a leg around his shoulders, drawing forth an uncertain expression. Dusty and Chestnut glanced at each other and shrugged.
“Sorry, Sir—” Greenwing fought back the urge to shudder “—but what does that mean?”
“Your job,” Gabriella said, “is to go into Her Majesty’s chambers and convince her to lower the sun.”
Dusty Scroll finally stepped forth. “And barring that, if thou canst learn anything at all, we will all be very grateful.”
“What about Princess Luna?” Greenwing asked. “Maybe Princess Celestia knows where she is.”
“Just worry about the sun,” Gabriella said. “We’ll worry about the other princess.”
“And try not to get yourself killed,” Chestnut offered, earning a flat stare from his fellow advisor. “What? It’s good advice!”
“You heard em, colt,” Gabriella said. Dusty’s horn lit up and the heavy doors cracked open. “Get in there and get it done!” She shoved him through.
A few seconds later, the portal shut with a light "thud", and Chestnut turned to the captain. “What in Equestria were you thinking, having him wear that armor?”
“The last one said that the princess didn’t want to talk about her sister, right?” Gabriella answered. “The commander thought this would stir her up, maybe make her let something slip.”
“An interesting theory,” Dusty said, scratching her chin. “Perhaps it even has some merit. You do know, however, that there is every chance that Her Majesty will take offense, correct?”
“Calculated risks." With a cruel smile on her face, Gabriella spun on her heel and walked out of sight.
“That poor guard,” Chestnut lamented. “He just got thrown under the wagon, didn’t he?”
“You never know,” Dusty said as she turned back to her ledger. The quill resumed its frantic scribbling. “Maybe the commander’s plan is better thought-out than you think.”
Chestnut closed his eyes and let the familiar scratching of pen-on-paper calm him, but the reverie was interrupted only seconds later when Dusty spoke once more.
“Although you’re probably right.”
Only at the last second of his fall through the princess’s door did Greenwing manage to throw out a hoof and catch himself before he landed on his nose.
Captain or no captain, I’m not going to put up with this. “What’s the—” he started, but the doors shut in his face before he could speak his mind. Growling, Greenwing turned to survey his new surroundings.
The room he stood in had little of note, save for a few well dusted portraits and another door that ostensibly led into Princess Celestia’s living area. He reached out to grab the doorknob when a low hum, barely within the range of his perception, caught his attention. It resonated through the wooden floor just as much as it did through the air, running up through his hooves and causing a slight shiver to run down his spine.
I recognize this noise. An image of the night sky burst through his mind before he refocused on his mission. The door opened easily and, squaring his shoulders, he proceeded through.
The first thing Greenwing noticed about this new room was that the vibrating noise had nearly doubled in volume. The second thing he realized was that the temperature had risen to a nigh-unbearable state.
A massive, circular window in the ceiling let the sunlight, in all of its hot, stifling glory, fill the room and heat the air to its currently miserable levels. With his mane already drenched in sweat, Greenwing pulled his helmet off and dropped it onto one of the two couches that took up space in the middle of the room.
His ears pricked when a muttered curse floated past him. A pair of glass doors opened out onto a balcony, but despite having access to the outdoors, the lack of a breeze did little to cool the room. Greenwing caught another string of oaths that came through the entryway and slowly made his way over to investigate, failing to pay any attention to his footing. Thus, he didn’t notice the myriad bottles that littered the floor until he tripped over one of them and went crashing onto his face.
“Ow,” Greenwing mumbled as he pushed himself upright. The glass bottle he had stumbled over rolled into another of its brethren, clinking loudly when they collided. Despite the ruckus he had raised, nopony appeared to investigate.
Now taking care to avoid the bottles, he gingerly stepped his way to the balcony doors. The hum had risen to the point where he could feel it in his teeth. He poked his head outside.
The sight that met his eyes was not one wholly unfamiliar to him.
By the balcony’s railing, Princess Celestia sat on her haunches and pointed her horn towards the heavens. A light pink aura surrounded it, and it emitted the noise that was now vibrating his bones.
I’ve seen this before, he thought, eyes squinted in concentration. Princess Luna looks exactly like this, every time she raises the moon.
Suddenly, the horn’s glow cut off and the humming abruptly ceased. Celestia’s eyes shot open. She said something to herself, but the growl in her voice kept it from being audible. Greenwing gulped and dropped into the bow that his station demanded.
“Princess Celestia, I’m sorry to—”
The moment she realized that she was no longer alone, the princess’s wings flared and she spun to face the intruder. “Is it common practice to enter my chambers without knocking first?” she asked. The stench of wine wafted from her direction.
She’s your princess, Greenwing thought, forcing back a grimace. Don’t talk back. “My apologies, Your Majesty,” he said with his nose still nearly pressed to the ground.
A stormy expression rippled on Celestia’s face, and she appeared ready to snap until she took a deep breath and sighed. “Stand up. May I assume that my advisors sent you here to—how shall I put this—‘bring me to my senses’?”
“Well, I wouldn’t have said it like that…” Greenwing glanced away and lifted himself up.
“I am afraid that now is not a good time… for…” Her eyes widened as they fell upon his breastplate, which had only come into sight when he straightened to his full height.
“Princess?” Greenwing said, head cocked. “Is something wrong?”
“That armor,” she said slowly. “Why do you wear it?”
“I was a member of the Lunar Guard.” He fought the urge to flare his wings; something about Celestia’s demeanor and tone suggested that she was putting forth a challenge.
“That organization disbanded, by my order,” Celestia said with a frown. “There should be nopony wearing its armor anymore.”
“And yet here I stand,” he said before he could stop himself. “I’m technically off duty, so I can wear what I please.”
For a short moment, Celestia stood speechless. “If you wish to get information out of me, then this is not a good way to start.”
“Fine.” Greenwing spun and marched towards the glass doors.
“You’re leaving?” she asked, taken aback. “Just like that?”
“I’ve been on my hooves all day and I’m too tired to play word games, so yes, I’m leaving.” He passed back into the suffocatingly hot living quarters, remembering to watch his step.
Just as he reached out to pull open the next door, Celestia’s voice halted him in his tracks. “Wait,” she said. Her magic lifted all of the bottles from the floor and dropped them into a nearby bin. “Please, sit down and talk with me. You’re right, of course. Your personal wardrobe is your choice.” She laid herself down on one of the couches. “However…”
For a long moment, Greenwing stared at her, until he slowly walked to the other couch and picked up his helmet. He placed it back onto his head, despite the heat. “However...?” He chose to stand rather than sit.
“I am curious as to why you decided to wear it here.” Celestia crossed her front legs as she stared at him, as if trying to figure out a puzzle. “It seems an odd fashion choice.”
“My orders were to dress like this,” he said. Understanding dawned in Celestia’s eyes.
“I see,” she said, putting a hoof to her chin. “They think reminding me of my sister will shake me up.”
Just worry about the sun, Captain Vigil had said. We’ll worry about the other princess. Greenwing shrugged his shoulders and forged forward. “Princess, where is your sister?” Celestia flinched, nearly falling off of the couch. When no answer seemed forthcoming, he said, “Do you know where she could have—”
“Would you care for a drink?” Her magical aura lifted a full bottle and two glasses out of a nearby cabinet.
“I’ll pass,” he said, unable to help noticing that the levitation spell wobbled unsteadily. “Princess, are you alright?”
“I think it would be fine to call me ‘Celestia’,” she told him as the bottle came to rest on the table in front of her. “I’m not in a princely state, after all.”
“I… don’t think I can do that, Princess.” Despite Greenwing's words, his posture relaxed considerably and he once more pulled off his helmet. “But you didn’t answer me. Are you feeling alright?”
“I feel fine,” Celestia answered. “Just a little sleepy.” The bottle poured its contents into a glass and set itself down before her magic dissipated.
“I didn’t know that this much wine existed,” Greenwing said as he eyed the bin where she had deposited all of the empty containers. “Where did you get it?”
She gave him a flat stare. “I make it in my chamber pot.” Her eyes rolled when he nearly fell over. His horrified gaze remained fixed on the glass, and intensified when the princess took a dainty sip. “Relax, I was joking. We keep a cache of alcohol on hoof for occasions such as this.”
“How did you manage to drink that much?” Despite the princess’s assurances, Greenwing kept a wary eye on the wine.
“I have a very high tolerance for alcohol. In fact, so does my sis—” As she bit the sentence off, a bright red shade colored her cheeks. She gulped down the glass’s contents in an attempt to save face, then refilled it. “Needless to say, I can drink quite a bit before I feel anything.”
So the fact that you’re drinking so much means there’s something you want to forget, Greenwing thought, feeling a spark of pity form in his gut. “What’s got you worried?” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, then downed the second glass. “Does it have anything to do with the sun not setting?”
Celestia nodded and poured more wine. “You could say that.” After a moment’s pause, she set down the glass and fluffed her wings. “You were… very fond of my sister, weren’t you?” The words were said tentatively, as if she was afraid that saying them might break something fragile.
“What makes you say that?” Greenwing’s expression showed confusion at the odd change of topic.
“All of the other ponies that were sent in here have focused on getting me to set the sun,” Celestia said. “You, however, seem more interested where—in where Luna is.” She took another gulp of her drink, then locked her gaze onto the pegasus’s eyes. “Now, please tell me—were you fond of my sister?”
“Yes,” Greenwing said, taken aback. “I trained all my life, just so that I could serve under her.” The princess stared at him for a moment, then lifted up her glass and took a long draw. “Do you know where Princess Luna is—”
“Why all your life?” Celestia said quickly. “Why did you care for her so?”
His brow furrowed. “I met her, when I was really little. She seemed so… noble. So worthy of loyalty. Princess, are you alright?” Celestia’s eyes had teared up and threatened to unleash their torrents.
“Would you tell me about that time?” she said, waving his concern away.
“Yes.” With one last glance at the emotionally unstable mare, Greenwing cast his thoughts back to his colthood.
In the castle training yards, a colt and his father practiced with wooden swords that were tied onto their wings. The younger pony lashed out at the older, who, with a deft twist of his weapon, sent his opponent sliding across the grass on his nose.
“You’re cheating!” the colt said, trying to rub the dirt off of his face. “You’re using moves you haven’t taught me yet!”
“Don’t overreact.” The stallion waited for his son to ready himself before taking a proper stance. “Just focus on learning what I have taught you.”
As if announcing its arrival, the sun peeked over a row of pine trees and cast its rays into the older pony’s eyes. The colt saw his opportunity and leaped forward once more, doing his best to get a hit—just one hit—in on his opponent. However, within no time he once more found himself laid out on the ground.
“Stand up!” the father said. “We’re not done yet.” The younger pony struggled back to his hooves and stood, wobbling in place.
Just as the two were about to resume their combat, a firm voice interrupted. “Thou usest entirely too much energy in thy movements.”
“Huh?” The colt relaxed and glanced in the sun’s direction, from which a winged pony flew in to land next to him. He squinted in order to make out the newcomer’s identity.
His father, who didn’t have the sun in his eyes, leaped over and pushed the smaller pony to the ground. “Princess Luna!” he said, dropping to his own knees.
The colt’s eyes adjusted, and he could finally see that the dark-blue pony in front of him indeed bore both wings and a horn, as well as the tiara that indicated her station. “None of that bowing, Commander,” she said with an impatient wave. “We wish to view thy practice.”
“I-I am afraid this basic training will bore thee,” the commander said, slowly standing. “My son hath only begun to learn, so 'tis very simple.”
Confused by his father's change in dialect, the young pony frowned and opened his mouth to comment, but never had the chance.
“We still have some energy left before We go to sleep. Let Us decide what We find interesting.” Luna sat on her haunches expectantly. “Please proceed.”
“Very well.” He helped his son up, and both prepared themselves. However, the father’s movements were even sharper than before, and the fight had barely begun before the colt had been thrown down.
“I’m never going to get this!” he said in frustration, kicking a divot in the grass.
“We already told thee, thy movements are exaggerated.” Luna stood and trotted over to him. “As a result, thou movest more slowly, and thy swings require more energy and time to redirect. Observe.” As the colt looked on with wonder in his eyes, she went into a series of slow-motion swings and kicks. “Canst thou see how We keep Our attacks close to Our body?”
“Mmhmm!” the colt said with a grin.
She gestured for him to step forth. “Then show Us. Slowly!”
The young pony dropped into a crouch and engaged an invisible opponent, trying to do what Luna had told him.
“No!” she shouted. “Closer!” He struggled to alter his style to accommodate her demands. “Yes, that is better!”
After a few minutes of Luna barking instructions at him, the colt paused and wiped the sweat from his face. She walked over and gazed down upon him.
“Thou hast improved,” she said with a slight smile. “What is thy name?”
“We named him Greenwing, Your Majesty,” the commander said, joining the two.
“‘Tis a bit odd of a name,” Luna said. “Dost thou wish to indicate that he is a novice, despite his level of expertise?”
“It’s only to remind him to remain humble,” the father said. “No matter where he is in life.”
“Yeah!” Greenwing said as his father ruffled his mane. “And I’m humbler than anypony else in my grade!”
Luna arched an eyebrow. “We can tell, ‘tis a successful strategy,” she said to Greenwing's father, who chuckled and put an affectionate wing around his son. “Thank ye for humoring Us. We shall adjourn.”
“What do you say, Greenwing?” the commander whispered.
“Thank you, Luna!” Greenwing said, grinning widely. His father scowled and lightly smacked him on the back of the head. “Um, I mean, ‘Princess Luna’.” She couldn’t help but laugh as she waved farewell and took wing.
“You’re a very fortunate pony,” the commander said as soon as Luna had left earshot. “There aren’t many who can say they’ve received private instruction from a princess!”
“I liked her!” Greenwing said. The two ponies packed their gear and headed back into the castle. “She’s my favorite princess!
That night, Luna sat on the throne, fighting back the urge to yawn. The Night Court barely had any attendance, and more often than not ended with her growing bored and ending it early.
Right as she prepared to do just that, the doors opened and two of the Lunar Guards showed a colt through. Luna’s eyes widened when she realized that it was Greenwing, the colt from the previous morning.
“Greetings, young Greenwing,” she said, sitting up straight. “To what do We owe the pleasure of thy presence?”
“Um…” His gaze dropped to the ground. “I wanted to say ‘thank you’ again.” He began to scuff his hoof against the marble floor. “For this morning.”
Luna adopted a bemused grin. “Yes, We recall. And We appreciate thy gratitude, but shouldst thou not be in bed at this hour?”
“Well, yes, but I—” The doors opened once more, this time to admit Greenwing's frantic father.
“I knew it!” he said, stalking forward. “Greenwing, I told you not to bother Her Majesty during the Night Court!” He stopped beside his son and sank into a low bow. “Princess Luna, please forgive my son for his impertinence.”
“‘Tis fine,” Luna said with a dismissive wave. “We appreciate the colt’s intentions.”
“But I—” Greenwing began, only to be cut off by his father.
“We shall now take our leave,” he said as he pulled his son close. “Thank you for your understanding, Your Majesty.”
“But, father,” Greenwing said on the way out, “what if she’s lonely? I wanted to keep her company!”
“Princesses don’t get lonely!” the commander snapped, making Luna’s eyes widen. The doors shut behind them with a soft "thud", but right before they did, the princess saw the little pony gazing back at her.
“Princess Luna, are you alright?” one of her guards asked. It took a moment for her to acknowledge his words.
“Yes, We are fine,” she said slowly, descending from the dais. Her hooves dragged along the ground as she went. “Guard, We believe that We shall end Night Court.”
As she left the room, the commander’s words replayed in her mind. “Princesses don’t get lonely!”
“I saw how unhappy she was at the last second,” Greenwing said to Celestia, who slowly sipped at her wine. “If she could put up with those feelings and still do her duty, then she’s the strongest pony that I know.”
“You saw as a colt what I couldn’t, despite being her sister,” the princess murmured into her drink.
“Your Majesty, something happened to Princess Luna, didn’t it?” Greenwing leaned forward. “Is she alright—”
“A long time ago, I saw something that should have clued me in,” Celestia said. “It's a memory that I hadn't thought of in years, until you told me your story.”
Celestia nudged open the doors to Luna’s chambers, walking softly in order to surprise her sister. Normally she would already be asleep, but this night she felt more awake than usual. Luna had already ended her court, so the most likely place to find her was in her rooms.
As she moved further into the suite, the soft notes to a song floated through the air. Celestia glanced around for the source before her eyes settled on the balcony.
“Ooooh, Luuuunaaaa,” she said playfully. The song crescendoed as she made her way outside, but what she saw gave her reason to pause.
The Princess of the Night indeed sat on the balcony with her eyes turned skywards. Her horn’s glow faded and reappeared multiple times as she manipulated her starscape. Ribbons of blue, red, and gold wove between the stars, cascading into a breathtaking display of art. All the while, Luna continued to sing her wordless melody.
Celestia sat and watched her sister at work for a while before her nose began to twitch. She tried to get back inside, but it was too late—she sneezed loudly, and Luna nearly fell over the railing in surprise.
“S-Sister!” Luna stammered as she tried to calm her racing heart. “H-how long hast thou b-been back there?”
“A while.” Celestia walked forward to stand next to her sister. “That was Mother’s song.”
Luna sighed and reseated herself. “Yes.” A blush crept across her cheeks. “Wherefore art thou here so late?”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I would come and visit my favorite sister.”
“I am thine only sister,” Luna mare said, returning her attention to the sky. Her horn relit and she resumed her work.
“Do you do this every night?” Celestia asked when no further conversation seemed forthcoming.
“Sometimes my duties keep me too busy,” Luna said, “but when time permitteth, yes, I attend to the sky.” Silence once more fell over the balcony.
“Usually you have more to say.” Celestia's brow furrowed as she turned on inquisitive eye onto her sister. “Are you well?”
“Yes.” Celestia breathed a sigh of relief, but the sensation was immediately washed away when Luna added, “No. I do not know.”
“What happened?” Celestia draped a wing over Luna's back.
“Nothing significant,” Luna immediately said, which only further raised her sister’s suspicions.
“Tell me anyway.”
Luna released a heavy breath before she spoke. “Earlier tonight, a colt approached me in court,” she said, snuggling into Celestia’s side. “He wished to keep me company. He said I was lonely.”
“And?” Celestia's wing pulled Luna closer. “Are you?”
“Maybe a little bit…” Luna said, shutting her eyes. They immediately reopened when the notes to her mother’s song drifted into her ears. Celestia had begun to hum.
“I may not have Mother’s voice,” she said, “but I can do this much, at least.” A faint smile appeared on Luna’s face as she returned her attention to the heavens. The dark purple aura reappeared over her horn, and she resumed the manipulation of her starry domain.
Everypony who watched the sky that night would have unanimously agreed that it had never been so beautiful.
As she ended her story, Celestia pulled out a new bottle and refilled her glass. “That time, I should have seen the problem. I should have done more to help her.”
“That colt was me,” Greenwing said, staring at a bare spot on the wall. “I—I didn’t know that I made her feel lonely, though! I didn’t mean—”
“No!” The percussive word shocked him into silence. “No,” she said again, more quietly. “You did not cause my sister unhappiness, of that I am certain. She was very sentimental, and intentions such as yours meant much to her.”
Something about Celestia’s words sparked a sense of unease in the pit of Greenwing’s stomach. “‘Was’? ‘Meant’? Why did you speak as if she’s gone?”
Celestia's eyes widened and she choked on her drink. “I simply meant—”
“And why do you want to swap stories about her like this?” he said, hopping to his hooves as he gained momentum. The sense of unease blossomed into dread.
“That isn’t—” she started again, but stopped herself as if unsure as to what she should say. Instead, she cast her gaze downward.
“This is how you would act when—” The sudden thought brought his pacing to an end “—losing a loved one,” he whispered, turning frightened eyes towards Celestia. The look on her face only proved it. “You’re mourning her, aren’t you?”
Celestia’s mouth gaped open, but no words came forth.
“That’s the reason for the drinking, the stories,” he continued slowly. “It’s why you won’t leave your chambers. Princess, what happened to your sister?”
“Please, don’t ask me that,” she said, finally finding her voice. “I can’t answer you.”
“But I’m right, aren’t I?” Greenwing said. “You have to tell me what happened! Is she in danger? Was she kidnapped? Is she hurt? If there’s anything I can do to help her, I will!” His eyes quivered feverishly as his tempo increased.
“There’s nothing wrong,” Celestia said, but her words lacked conviction.
“Tell me!” He lowered his head to make eye contact with her. “I need to know!”
Celestia twisted her head away and gulped down the rest of her drink. As she continued to avoid answering the question, Greenwing’s ears and face grew red and heated.
“Where is Luna?”
“She’s gone!” Celestia snapped. “She is gone, and there is nothing you, nor I, nor anypony else can do to bring her back!”
Silence descended upon the spacious room. A heavily breathing Celestia could only watch Greenwing’s mouth repeatedly open and close.
“What…” he said at last, pausing to lick his lips. “What hap...happened to her?”
For a long moment, Celestia didn’t speak, but instead stared at him as if measuring his worth. “I shall speak with you about this, but only if you first help me.”
“Tell me now.”
“I understand your feelings,” she said, eyes watering, “but I must first see to—”
“No, you don’t.” The words, said with such a matter-of-fact tone, threw Celestia off balance.
“What?”
“You don’t understand,” Greenwing said. His legs began to shake, but he refused to take a seat. “Did you know that Princess Luna’s court is barren? Most nights, she won't get a single petitioner.”
“Yes, I am aware,” Celestia said in an uncertain voice.
“On those nights, I would speak with her,” he said. “Being so familiar with the princess made me unpopular with my superiors, but when she had somepony to talk with, she seemed happier. So, I made certain to be that pony.”
Celestia didn’t seem to have any comment, so he forged forward with a deep breath.
“I learned a lot about the princess in the three months that I spent in her guard. She has a lot to say, and not a lot of ponies to say it to. I learned that she’s glad that you handle the more diplomatic matters. I learned that her eyes are sensitive to the sun. I learned that she likes strawberries, but hates cherries.” Greenwing paused to muster his courage before continuing. “And I learned that, in Princess Luna’s opinion, her sister does not care for her.”
The moment the words left his mouth, Celestia’s wings flared. “That’s not true! I love my sister dearly!” She tried to fill her empty cup, but the magic flickered and lost its hold, sending both the half-full bottle and the glass crashing to the floor.
“For what it’s worth,” Greenwing said as he eyed the mess, “I think she’s wrong. From what I’ve seen, I can tell that you love her very much, but I also think that you didn’t have much consideration for her.”
She took a moment to let his thoughts sink in. “And you did,” she said softly. “You understood her feelings, when I never even took the time to find out.” Her eyes lost their focus.
A wave of guilt washed over Greenwing as he considered the implications of what he had just told her. “I shouldn't have said any of that,” he mumbled.
“Hm?” Celestia’s attention slowly returned to the present. “Did you say something?”
“What do you need me to do?" Her eyes remained blank. “You wanted my help.”
“You know, in all of the years that I’ve been her sister,” she said, averting her gaze, “I never once asked Luna how she raises the moon.”
She must not have heard me. “Princess? I don’t know if I can help, but I’ll do my best. Just tell me what you need.”
“I’m trying to.” Celestia put her hooves on his shoulders and looked squarely into his face. “If my sister gave you a hint, even the smallest clue, I need to know.”
“About raising the moon? Why…” Suddenly, realization dawned. “You have to do it, with your sister gone. The sun hasn’t stayed up because you won’t set it, but because you don’t know how to take care of the other part of the cycle!”
A light blush graced Celestia's cheeks at his words. “It’s actually very embarrassing. I’ve tried time and again to bring it up, but everytime I get a hold on it, the thing slides out of my hooves.”
The memory of Celestia standing out on the balcony flashed through Greenwing’s head. “I won’t give you a hint.” Her face fell, but brightened when he added, “Because I did ask Princess Luna how she raises the moon. I can tell you how to do it.”
She immediately leaped up and trotted to the balcony doors, waving for him to follow. “Let’s take this outside.”
Once they stood by the railing, Celestia sat on her haunches and looked at her ad hoc tutor expectantly. “Princess Luna told me that, to her, the moon isn’t just something in the sky,” Greenwing said. “She sees it almost as a friend of hers who’s always there, waiting.” A stormy look passed over the princess’s face. “Princess, is something wrong?”
“What?” She blinked and shook her head to focus her attention. “No, nothing. Please continue.”
“She said that raising the moon was like waking that friend,” Greenwing said. “It’s like coaxing that friend out of bed. You wouldn’t just grab them and pull them up, would you?”
“Just wake it up…” Celestia muttered. “Is that all she told you?”
Greenwing nodded. “Yes. Princess Luna said that mindset is the most important part.”
“Small wonder I couldn’t do it before.” Celestia squared herself and looked up at the sky. “Very well, let’s give it a try.”
“It’s been an hour,” Chestnut said, glancing at his hourglass. “Do you think he’s still alive?”
“I hope you don’t actually believe that Princess Celestia would murder one of her subjects,” Dusty said. She had procured an abacus, and the beads clicked together rapidly as she went through a number of complex calculations.
“Some ponies can’t take a joke,” he mumbled. “In all seriousness, I think this is a good sign.”
“As do I.” Dusty glanced up from her work to regard her fellow advisor. “Perhaps Her Majesty will—”
“Hold on,” Chestnut said, interrupting her and earning a frown for his troubles. He ignored it and trotted over to examine the light that pooled through a nearby window. “Five minutes ago, this light fell in a slightly different place.”
Dusty’s eyes widened, and she hopped to her hooves to join him. “Are you certain?”
“I’ve been camping here for the past two days with little to do besides memorize the scenery,” he said drily. “I’m certain. It moved! Only about two or three inches, but it moved!”
“Then that means the sun has moved,” she said as she scratched at her horn. A broad grin slowly spread across her face. “Let’s wait and see how this progresses, shall we?”
Panting heavily, Princess Celestia collapsed to her knees. “Are you alright?!” Greenwing asked. He crouched down to help her back to a standing position.
“Yes,” she said with a wheeze. “It didn’t—work, but—I felt it. I can do—it, now, I—know.”
“I saw the sun move a little,” he said, glancing skywards.
“That wasn’t deliberate.” Celestia took one final deep lungful of air before her breathing stabilized. “Until I get used to handling the moon, this will be a tiring affair.”
Greenwing stepped back and waited a moment before making his request. “Now that I’ve helped you, would you tell me about—”
“I must complete this, first,” she answered. “I apologize, but now that I know what I must do, I have to continue until the task is finished.”
His eyes flashed, but for once he managed to keep from talking back.
“I do promise to tell you everything,” Celestia said, placing a hoof on his shoulder. “You deserve that much, at least.”
“I understand,” he said stiffly. “Is there anything else…?”
Horn alight, the princess turned her gaze back to the sky. “I believe I can take it from here. When the moon is up, come by at your earliest convenience. However, for now, I suggest you get some sleep. You look dead on your hooves.” As if on cue, Greenwing’s vision momentarily grew dark and he nearly swooned. When he came back to full consciousness, he found that Celestia had used her wing to prop him up. Blushing, he bowed and turned to leave, but her voice halted him. “And do tell Dusty Scroll and Chestnut to enter, please. I believe that I owe them both apologies.”
On his way out, Greenwing did as Celestia had asked and sent her gleeful advisors in to attend to their princess, then shambled off towards his quarters. His thoughts drifted sluggishly between memories of Princess Luna and his encounter with her sister. The lack of sleep caught up with him and threatened to envelop his consciousness even as he stood in the hallway, fumbling for the key to get through his door.
Once inside, the helmet slipped from his grip and bounced on the floor, but Greenwing didn’t have the energy or motivation to pull off the rest of his armor. He collapsed onto his bed and used the sheets to wipe the sweat that soaked his mane and ran down his forehead. He turned his gaze to the room's single window.
The sky slowly grew orange, and Greenwing took pride in the fact that he had played such a significant role in the crisis’s resolution. With a groan, he hoisted himself back to his hooves.
Maybe I should stay up just a bit longer. I can go get the truth from the princess as soon as the sun sets…
The red glow faded and darkness fell over Equestria. Light from the hallway seeped under the guard’s door, making a meagre effort to push back the murky blackness, but Greenwing’s gaze remained fixed on the horizon. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, a sliver of white crested the trees and cast its glow onto the castle. The stars began to appear in the sky, slowly at first, but more and more quickly as the moments passed.
“Time to go learn the truth,” Greenwing muttered, turning to the door and reaching to open it.
Why? The sudden thought froze him in place.
“Because she promised,” he answered with a growl. His hoof inched towards the doorknob.
Why? the dissenting voice asked again.
“I can help her!” Greenwing dropped to his haunches heavily. “Whatever she needs, I’ll do it!”
What can I do that Celestia hasn’t done already? This time, his eyes widened as he felt himself considering that statement.
“Well, I…” He swallowed, despite the dryness in his mouth. “I don’t know.”
I basically told her that she hadn’t done everything she could, Greenwing’s face burned as shame washed over him.
“But I still want to know!” he said, frantically casting about for a reason to confront the princess.
Bear the burden of ignorance. Greenwing’s ears fell along with his waning determination. Your duty is to protect Princess Celestia, not make her feel worse than she already does.
In the end, his fatigue made the decision for him. The dejected guard slid back onto his bed and gazed out the window, where a full half of the moon now hung suspended in the heavens. His eyes squinted as he beheld what appeared to be a pony's visage, burned onto the moon's surface.
When did that get there? A thrill of fear fought his crushing weariness. No, it can't be...
As his eyes slid shut, the last thought that ran through Greenwing’s mind was of how, with but a single meager lesson's worth of instruction, Celestia had managed to raise the moon.
And how his beloved Princess Luna never would again.
