Journey with a Batpony

Twilight continued to take deeper, measured breaths as she found herself venturing around the main cavern, accompanied by Midnight. As it happened, the herame of the Mountain of Sunfall was positioned pretty much on the opposite side of the dwelling from where the palace was, and that meant trotting around the spacious city for quite a while to ultimately reach it. Which, subsequently, meant trying to withstand the thin air while maintaining a proper tempo. The last thing Twilight wanted, after all, was for somepony to catch up to them or interrupt the upcoming, important conversation with the news that the Count was summoning her.

Still, progressing at a healthy pace while trying to pay appropriate attention to the surroundings, she was finding herself amazed by just now… empty the place was. This feeling of joyless submission, the deep sense of faith accepted as a necessary, suppressive burden, it was all seemingly pushing everypony into solitude of their workshops and houses. Indeed, ‘wandering around’ was seen as wasteful, just as Sunfall Decree had told her. How exactly did community work in this Iug?

“I was uneasy and uneasy I remain,” Twilight whispered to her companion as they trotted down the main thoroughfare, nearly being the only ponies currently using it. “This place is unique, of course, and gripping, but in a way that is almost physically exhausting,” she added, knowing that the stallion was feeling it too.

However, there was no reply from him, not at first. Only when she gave him a longer look did he realize that he was being addressed.

“Oh. Ia ecus,” he apologized, meeting her gaze finally. Nervousness was glaring from his eyes, alongside some grim determination. “You were saying?”

“That this place is physically tiring. And I see it is affecting you, too,” she repeated herself and added, all in a volume that would risk no echoes happening around them.

“Well, I do find the Mountain uneasy, for all this humble piety that is shown,” he commented, just as another pony transporting goods passed the cavern at a distance, dragging the transport like a contrite sinner his penance. “You know, I don’t want to accuse anypony of missing the point of having Our Mother protect and guide us, but… I find this sort of approach battling.”

“ ‘Baffling’,” Twilight corrected him, much to his momentary irritation. Which, however, disappeared just as quickly, as anxiety again took its place.

“That one. But… I know where the mistake came from. I’m fighting myself right now,” Midnight revealed, trying to keep his expression composed. “And yet I… don’t want to talk about that more until we’re in the hallowed space of the herame, safe and sound. Besides, I feel like only Bogine can grant me the courage and the will to go through with this,” the stallion commented further, keeping a low tone. “Perhaps… Perhaps both of them, actually. Courage and will, for our combined sake,” he added, his lips curling into a strange, panicked smile for a second.

Twilight believed she understood this trepidation well. If this conversation was to be about something that had been weighing down on him for so long, he had every right to be nervous. And so did she, actually, but she was trying her best to keep that gnawing feeling under control. Latching onto the warm sensation in her chest, instead, one that seemed to manifest all the stronger the closer they were getting to the shrine.

Hope. Yes, that was it, without doubt. Twilight was hoping so much that they could get through this obstacle, this challenge. That they could sit and talk, something that should have been done a long time ago. Especially before… some things had happened, she wasn’t blind to the peculiar and perhaps improper track that their relationship had progressed down, and at a pace that was perhaps all too rapid.

But there they both were, and this was it. That ultimate test that had to be passed, now that it had made itself known. And afterwards, they could once again try and create something between them.

Or not.

And that ‘not’ was as terrifying as any other, bloodcurdling challenge that Twilight had so far faced in her adventures. She didn’t want the ‘not’. But she simultaneously knew, that if there was one thing that she had to keep in mind, for the sake of their possible future, it was the chance that whatever Midnight had been hiding from her so far could ruin their chances for good. Neither of them could allow naivete in the matter.

And so Twilight had to have the bravery to face that possibility as well. Perhaps it would be for the best to have that conversation in a place dedicated to a higher power. Especially since that said power had been showing its presence, for better or worse, throughout Twilight’s journey. And, most likely, was willing to help.

The batponies called that presence ‘the Immaculate Moon’, yes, and the shrine of the Sunfall Family corresponded with that idea the most out of all the places Twilight had seen so far. Yet the concept was still showcased in a way to remind the lesser, sinful ponies that one had to bend their neck and lower their unworthy eyes before the vibrant purity of the Goddess.

The interior of the shrine answered Twilight’s silent question regarding where the whole stockpile of the Iug’s silver had gone to. In the spacious, half circle temple the columns, the chandeliers, the altar, they were all done in or embellished with the precious, sacred metal, and had been designed in a style that was, once again, absolutely breathtaking in its simplicity. That wasn’t just Twilight having issues with the air, no, for the sight of the great, cylindrical pillars through which silver was seamlessly weaved was awe-inspiring. Especially since, if she didn’t know better, she would have guessed that fonts of argent liquid were making their way down the supports of the herame.

Like volcanic rock partially cooling down, the columns had seams of metal weaved into them, into irregular but controlled patterns, giving the impression of the very lifeblood of the country’s piety and the Goddess’ blessings surrounding the supplicants. The altar, upon which the silver discus rested, was fashioned into a solid slab that seemed untouched by a pony’s hoof. The symbol of the Immaculate Moon was likewise pure and radiant, kept at a significant distance from the first seats that resembled floor mats more than prayer cushions. This peculiar chasm of power, the firm border separating the imperfect and mundane from the sacrosanct, was palpable in this space. A line deliberate and respected, as if Bogine Herself had designated a clear divide separating the two parts of the world.

Twilight allowed herself to marvel for a breath, though also spotted a problem, other than the persistent feeling of pressure upon her and everypony else. Finding a truly secluded place in the shrine could pose a significant challenge, actually. More so than in the other Mountains the herame had a significant number of ponies offering silent prayers, their hooves raised up to the sky in veneration. And as far as she could tell, there wasn’t a ceremony being held. It was more likely that sending thanks and entreaties to the Immaculate Moon was a form of noble pastime for the Sunfalls.

Actually, speaking of spending time on prayer, Twilight couldn’t but focus on one particular pony among the congregation. He was dressed in a long, if plain robe of a noble or a scholar, and was offering prayers that radiated devotion towards the Goddess on high. But, more so than this shining example of piety, it was one of his forelegs which caught her attention. For it looked as if it had wasted away completely, with its muscles shriveled, coat almost entirely fallen off and only paper-thin skin holding onto sheer bone.

“Midnight…” Twilight whispered as quietly as she could, gathering the stallion’s attention and directing it towards the said individual. All the while remaining at the back of the shrine, since none of them needed additional notice.

The warrior squinted, trying to find who she might have been referring to, and finally spotted the pony. His lips scowled a little as he also took in the sight. “I’m no medic, but… that leg looks ruined,” he whispered in some distress.

“But… was it because…?” Twilight tried to ask. She really didn’t want to appear prejudiced against any forms of devotion, but this seemed to be firmly pushing it.

Maybe she could allow herself that sort of critique, because Midnight definitely did. “That he had kept it up for Goddess knows how long in some strange show of devotion? Tac, looks like it,” he confirmed with understandable reluctance which this sort of worship invoked even in his, pious heart. “I think he’d be more useful to us all working hard with all four of his legs, you know. But… let’s just hope that Our Mother does not turn Her gaze away from a strange sacrifice, if it comes from a pure heart.”

So did the warrior state, and something about that sentence was not only referring to that self-harming supplicant.

Twilight nodded, trying to keep her gaze away from that strange, morbid sight and instead focus on trying to find a secluded spot. Especially since there was a high chance that somepony else would arrive soon, see them lurking in the shrine’s back and… well, she wasn’t exactly sure what the reaction would be. She would hope for a positive one, but those gazes from the antasi in the landing cavern had concerned her a little.

It was then that she had been reminded of being an outsider, a soleerane, despite all that she had done for Noctraliya so far.

Midnight gentle gesture took her away from the dark thought. To their side, in the far corner of the herame to her right, there was actually some empty space for now. Perhaps it was providence, since Twilight would think that a dark nook, far away from the altar, would be a perfect fit for a batpony who would wish to show just how humble he was before the Immaculate Moon, carrying his burden of real and imaginary sins and faults.

… maybe that was the case, after all?

Trying to be as silent as the stone floor and the spacious size of the shrine allowed, the pair made their way to that particular spot, hoping not to gather too much attention. Thankfully, in this hallowed space, focus of the supplicants was directed almost singularly forward, towards the discus of pure silver and the great, divine idea it represented.

Twilight tried not to grimace as the mat underneath her dock turned out to be as uncomfortable as one might have imagined from the sheer look of it. And the Mountain’s proclivity for mortification. Midnight also didn’t look pleased, but it was obvious that something else was on his mind other than convenience.

He took a moment, taking in the surroundings and his praying brethren, then turned to Twilight finally, with a heavy gaze in which it was very hard to find hope.

“Let us pray for a moment, please. For… For our own sake. Whatever happens, may the Goddess bless us both, if I can daringly ask Her to,” he stated in a whisper that carried great weight. “I… I will turn my thoughts to the Judging Sun, as well, though… I think your prayers might still be received by her with more favor for some reason,” he added, hiding much of his fear behind this attempt at faux levity.

Twilight didn’t reply, at least not with words. She, instead, granted the stallion a supportive gaze, which also meant agreeing to partake in this devout moment. Midnight smiled to her, ever so briefly, before assuming the right, prayer position.

She followed his movements, wishing to show the right respect, and hoping that her alicorn wings and brighter coloration wouldn’t catch somepony’s gaze outright. Or, at least, that the said onlooker would not afterwards approach to ask what was her purpose. If she was partaking in common prayer with everypony else, who had the right to object?

Twilight heard that Midnight was already beginning to pray, so she didn’t dally, even with all of her limited experience at the practice.

But she could do what felt right and natural, definitely. With all the chaos in her mind, the grip of anxiety on her heart, it was all too easy to find a focal point of the silver discus, signifying the presence and importance of a yet greater power and will. There was a certain calmness to be found in that static, bright image, without a doubt illuminated by the light of the Moon itself, guided here by the way of clever architecture.

And soon, having found her point of reference, did Twilight feel various thoughts rushing past her mind. First came those about her and Midnight. About their good moments, about their terrible clashes, about what could be seen as hopeful and what details of their relation had left Twilight despondent. What feeling had the greatest number of memories associated with itself?

But that was not all that she found occupying her attention, as her gaze was glued to the symbol of the Goddess. Twilight’s thoughts meandered to her friends, their smiles, their voices and their likely worries for her well-being. To her family, back in her Equestria, the place she wanted to safeguard with all of her might. Twilight’s mind brought forward the images of Princess Luna and Princess Celestia, the siblings, the two deities, the two ponies. Ponies that had suffered a clash as violent and heartbreaking as it could be imagined and yet remained close…

This strange collage of images drifted right before Twilight’s eyes, evoked by the sign before her, and by her heart, and by that warmth which was present right in her chest, urging her onward. This vision was a silent, but vivid reminder of everything she already had., that she possessed and cherished. Of everything she would still have, even if this conversation with the pony right next to her would go… wrong.

She had a good life. She really had.

It just… could be better still. Twilight realized that, like every other living pony, she wanted it to become better. Not out of pride, or the sense of entitlement, or repayment for good deeds, but just because it… wasn’t wrong to desire that. To make life better for oneself and for others, that wasn’t a terrible goal to follow as long as it combined the two in good, healthy amounts. She considered that she had done a lot already, to make the world a better place for others. And that meant, hopefully, that she had earned that little bit of fair justification to have her own life improved.

And, despite all of the warnings and all of the doubts, her heart wanted that to come to pass… by having Midnight in the said life, alongside her.

Twilight closed her eyes, briefly, locking herself away from the world around and focusing on that thought, on that feeling.

Yes. Yes, she wanted exactly that to happen. Despite everything, that was where her preference lay.

Some said that right before a moment of pure chance, the toss of a coin, one could realize what side they really wanted it to land on. This moment was fast approaching, for she knew that Midnight would finish his supplications sooner rather than later. This conversation was the coin toss, and the results could only be blessed or disastrous, for both of them.

The knot in Twilight’s stomach tightened.

Her logic, her reason, she couldn’t just ignore them. And she knew that, for the sake of having anything worthwhile come out of this moment, she had to be willing to accept both of the outcomes. Only then would she know that her choice was… well, perhaps not ideal for her in all circumstances, but justifiable. And that would be enough to survive on.

Twilight opened her eyes again, and the shine of the symbol of the Immaculate Moon hadn’t subsided. It looked greater still, right there, as if communing with any and all onlookers.

Pale, perfect, pure.

Purposeful.

“My light…”

Midnight’s whisper made her shudder all over, as the moment of truth arrived. She looked at him, and suddenly there was nothing else. Not the Mountain with its strange, humble ways. Not the other supplicants, giving praises in respect and submission. There wasn’t even the Goddess, though the stallion had expressed his hope that Her guidance would aid this conversation.

There was just the two of them. And those words, radiating such honesty that they spoke right to Twilight’s heart and it translated them for her.

It felt so eerily familiar to her, that it had to signify something magnificent or terrifying, perhaps both.

The stallion, her stallion, continued in Equestrian, his voice trying to remain steadfast. “I offer no explanations, no excuses. I will tell you all, for you to judge, and I swear to the Immaculate Moon… that I shall hide nothing anymore. Let me speak my peace first, if you can, but if you would have questions – ask away. You will have my answers, and in turn yours,” Midnight promised in the tone of making a solemn vow. “Before I say anything else though… my heart requires me to confess it, once more – I love you.”

Twilight felt her heart shudder and her throat clench, as the warrior’s voice rang with nothing but the truth.

“Yes, it is stupid to say,” he admitted with some shame. “It might cloud your judgment. I hope not. But it is the truth. I… might have been a fool, to actually fall for this feeling so quickly, so deeply. Perhaps I should have listened to my betters, strangle it while it was still in its youth, but… I couldn’t. I didn’t want to,” he tried to explain in this grim, convoluted way. “Neither can I do it now, but I know… know that I will, if I have to. For your sake, my light. My love.”

“Midnight, I…”

“Please, Twilight. Let me first tell you all, you will understand why I say all of this, and why I am ready to—”

“I know, but…” Twilight interrupted anyway, hoping not to get too loud. “Before everything, know that… that I love you too,” she confessed, as she could say nothing else in reply to his declaration, in accordance with her heart. “What will be will be. But here and now? I do love you. Remember that, in whatever future we find ourselves soon.”

Midnight’s eyes, as piercing and keen as they were, and as determined as they remained, glinted with tears. “It shall be a blessing to hear it again. And… And a balm to remember it, even if this was the last time.”

The stallion closed his eyes briefly to contain his emotions, then gave Twilight one last, crooked and roguish smile.

One which she returned, for it felt like the ultimate kindness to offer to the warrior opposite.

He then opened his lips, to speak and reveal it all.

Luna’s ears perked up and her neck stiffened.

She felt a strange sensation, crawling up her back. And she wasn’t sure why. She just… detected it, for no apparent reason and with no warning.

She had been simply resting a while, as she had just finished a meeting with her faithful servants of the Second Chance. They had conversed, with great focus and attention, about Luna’s plan regarding Moonwarden and his assailant. Yes, it had been quite anxiety-inducing to talk about making the unicorn a proper bait for the sake of catching the would-be assassin, but she wouldn’t think that she would be affected quite so much by it.

Was it a sudden bout of paranoia emerging from within her after that meeting? Was she expecting the killer to manifest from the shadows to try her luck with her that time? Especially since he was a batpony? That was a ridiculous notion.

… and yet realizing that didn’t make the feeling go away, so it wasn’t just a surge of panic. It was like the sensation, by itself, did not want to venture anywhere.

And it was strong. As if somepony was right behind her and looking straight at her. More so – expecting her to look back and acknowledge their presence.

Luna took a deep, but barely-visible breath, slowly sitting up on her bed… then rapidly turned her head back, almost upsetting her neck.

There was… the rest of her chamber. Her mirror, wardrobe, pillows, curtains, but nopony was there. Nopony that she could see, and nopony that she couldn’t, since she did find it prudent to make herself additionally sure with a flare of her magic.

And yet she felt a persistent presence. An… attention, focused on her. Otherworldly? Spectral? What was that?

And why?

Luna got up from her bed, slowly and deliberately, ready for anypony and anything to appear out of thin air, and prepared to react accordingly. Various possibilities were rushing past her mind. Even the chance of it being a deliberate and annoying prank by Discord. Yet, for all of his chicanery, this didn’t feel like a mere stunt by the Spirit of Chaos.

No. This was definitely something else. Something deeper than a jest. Something as primal as the draconequus, but… different. Grounded. Anchored.

Whatever it was, it was looking at her, from an undisclosed space. Luna could tell that this was as if a gaze coming from within a crowd, a piercing stare that was aimed precisely at its target. Perhaps the onlooker was distant, perhaps far away, but that didn’t take away the sheer potency of that feeling, nor made it inaccurate in picking its recipient.

Luna didn’t quite know how to react. She felt the necessity to answer this call, or at least acknowledge the peculiar sensation, in accordance with its wishes. And so, trying to pinpoint its exact source or at least get a right idea, she felt her hooves take her to the terrace of her chambers, bathed in radiant moonlight.

Even in the midst of this mystery, she smiled when the rays fell upon her, almost as if the wonderfully warm summer rain. The joy of feeling closer than ever with the Moon above was something to cherish and be proud of. It was something that she had regained after so many years of corruption, despondency and depression.

And, yes, for a brief moment she had felt worried that the uneasy feeling she was still experiencing was a surge of that old threat, the force of Nightmare trying to contact her. But that was, as of right now, impossible. As much as she would always carry the scars, always have that imprint lodged inside of her, Luna was not giving that insidious power even an inch within herself. Especially not in her heart, which was nowadays growing warmer and firmer with the strength of love.

She stopped.

That presence intensified, as if spurred forward by the thought of this deep emotional connection, as if reacting to the very notion and idea.

That was… somewhat promising? But Luna still didn’t know where this attention was coming from, only that… That this feeling seemed eerily familiar. Like she had felt this primeval connection before, and recently. Like there had been a moment in which her own being felt fuller, pushed further, with silver before her eyes and in her very veins.

Luna’s gaze searched, shifted from the Moon above to the distant horizon. To the hills and dales, distant hamlets and towns, barely visible from the Canterlot Mountain. And she finally stopped in the eastern direction, as that was from where the presence felt the strongest.

She squinted, as if trying to get her eyes to focus would actually manifest something on that far line between the splendorous night’s sky and the stoic earth, blanketed in the light of the Moon and countless stars.

And while her eyes didn’t see anything… her core felt it.

Something out there. Something glinting, shifting, changing. Something silver and bright, that was currently seeking her out for whatever reason. She heard as if a distant cry, filled with hope and sadness.

Luna steeled herself. Out of sheer instinct, yes, and also the teachings of her loyal and beloved advisor. Something was calling out to her, trying to find her, but she couldn’t just trust it outright, for the sake of her own safety and that of Equestria. She had made that mistake before, when dark whispers wormed their way right into her mind and heart.

But there was no assault, no treacherous attempt even. There was just… presence. There. Just beyond reach, but manifesting as this focus, as if the world itself was staring at Luna.

Perhaps it was wise to call out to it? Let it know that she was aware of it?

“Who… are you?”

It felt peculiar, speaking to seemingly nopony from the open space of the terrace, suspended between the ground and the vast expanse of the cosmos. That had caused this strange pause in Luna’s voice. And she was not actually expecting a response of any sort, but it just felt natural to start with—

… are you.

She felt her mane stand on end, even if that was almost impossible, for it had some time ago reassumed its shifting and changing ways that forbade it from reacting in a natural way.

But that had been a voice that Luna had just heard, echoing… and familiar.

A response. An acknowledgment of the attempt. Happening not even in her ears, that could still hear only the gentle whispers of night’s wind, but right in her core.

There was something, definitely. Somepony, even, Luna would dare say. A presence, a recognition, and that initial, brief exchange was enough for her to realize that this peculiar feeling really hadn’t been just something that she had imagined out of stress and tiredness. It was true, and it wanted to make contact, from an unspecified place far away.

But it hadn’t given Luna a true answer. Or had it done so, in a cryptic way?

“I-I hear you. I am here. Tell me, what is your name…?” she called out again, in a gentler tone. She didn’t think that the actual volume of her voice would make her more audible to that being.

… your name.

Another response, yes, but it wasn’t truly a reply. Luna’s brow furrowed, as the tone which returned reverberated like an actual echo… and she could recognize her own voice in the myriad of tones that formulated the words. The sentences had a peculiar quality to them, actually, almost as if they were caused simultaneously by shifting liquid and shrilling metal. And that sound… it wasn’t entirely unpleasant to listen to.

Yet what was the meaning of this parroting? Mockery? It certainly didn’t feel like it.

“Why are you contacting me, whoever you are? Could you tell me?”

… contacting… could… tell.

That felt affirmative, and yet lacked that crucial trait of clarity. Luna began to consider why. Was it possible that this presence could currently only use her own words, ones that she was offering it? It seemed to had just done so, not having echoed back the sentences in full, but rather having taken parts that it required to establish the conversation.

Very well, Luna could entertain that approach and see what would come out of it.

“Are you a friend or foe?” she offered the question, hoping to at least get that matter out of the way.

But there was a pause, as if the presence was unsure. Luna kept staring at that distant horizon, trying to imagine who she was trying to perceive, what sort of consciousness she was connecting with. How ancient, how primeval was this force, so it had found her like this? What was its true nature, its intentions, its complexity.

… you.

Luna blinked, as the short reply broke through her thoughts.

‘You’. What could that mean? Was this… presence suggesting that it was her? A lost part of her? A figment of her imagination, being invoked like so?

Or was there, verily, more to it. Was it actually an… introspective question? Luna was forced to ponder on that, as if the shortest answer had persuaded her gently to do so. She had had moments in her life already when she had been forced to consider whether she had been her own friend or a rival, a support for herself or a detrimental force. This precariousness had been what had lured her towards the Nightmare, this uncertainty and feeling of inferiority, born out of reasons real and fake.

At least nowadays it was a little easier to tell that she wished to be her own help and a friend. And that she needed to be kinder to herself, understanding of her plights. She had the right to be happy, despite all that she had done, all that she had been trying to repent for.

So that direction was where that particular answer steered, she decided.

“Fine. You have sought me, presence, and you at least do not declare yourself my foe. Do I know you from somewhere? I have a feeling that I do,” she offered her questions and words, to see what would become of them.

… you… know… that.

Luna shook her head, as the reply made another shiver traverse through her, hitting the very tips of her hooves. This was already a most peculiar exchange. And there would still be a chance that it was all just a great and complex dream, but if there was one topic that Luna felt confident about being an expert on and recognizing it was one of nightly fantasies and the great dreamscapes. This was really happening, she reminded herself once more, fighting her own, persistent disbelief.

She was in contact with something that claimed to be familiar. Even… her. But in what form? What connection was there?

“Are you me… from before the Nightmare?”

… are you.

Luna blinked, not knowing whether that was a statement or a question echoed right back at her. It was causing her to wonder, and perhaps that was what the entity was chasing after, at least somewhat.

Was Luna still ‘herself from before the Nightmare’? No, definitely not. She was different, hopefully better, though she wasn’t sure if she was capable of judging that. Others would have to do that for her, for the sake of at least some objectivity.

Or was this presence confirming that it was her? A remnant, a shard which had remained behind as herself had been banished with powerful force right to the prison of the Moon?

No, that didn’t make any sense. It couldn’t.

“Are you me?”

… you.

“How? How can you be me? Do you share your name with me?”

… share… name with.

This was getting Luna nowhere, or at least not moving at the right pace for her patience. Yet something else became suddenly and blatantly clear. Yes, she was hearing this voice in her core, and it was sharing her very own tone… but not the language.

This presence… It was speaking in Noctraliyar. And it wasn’t that Luna was translating the tongue at such a rapid pace that it felt perfectly understandable outright. Yes, she had those abilities, she had mastered the tongue of her children in no time. But this time she didn’t have to reach for this skill. She just felt what the voice was saying.

How was that possible? Yes, Luna had before heard that there were ancient and instinctual powers which allowed the speaker to direct their words to another’s heart. It meant that every language could be understood, for hearts worked in a way much different than logical and rational minds. But utilizing this ability required either an incredible dedication at honing such technique, akin to a lifetime of focused studies that were, by themselves, trial-and-error… or, allegedly, a deep emotional connection reaching even the extents of love.

Luna pondered, then, on the incredible might of the consciousness reaching out to her.

“What, by my Moon…” she mumbled to herself, trying to contain her amazement at least partially.

But it was an audible sentence, nonetheless. Especially to that distant being, which was communing with her and ready to reply.

… my Moon.

Luna petrified in an instant.

Her first reaction was nothing short of… outrage. The tone of that voice, despite using the sound of her own words, was singularly and unmistakably possessive. As if daring to claim what was rightfully Luna’s, what bore her essence, what connected with her core, nature and reason of being. And her initial approach had to be defensive. She hadn’t just restored her connection with her greater power, reached through the murkiness of her own doubts into something grandiose and wonderful, granting her the power to persevere and grow, for somepony or something to claim that the Moon was theirs instead!

And yet the second sensation which came upon Luna, right on the heels of the opening one, was definitely more potent than indignation.

Though Luna had no idea what to even do with it.

“My Moon… is yours?” she asked, with surprising meekness in her tone that she just couldn’t quite stop.

… my Moon… yours.

… was she talking to that Moon, herself? The pale one, the perfect one, the pure one? Granted great and singular purpose by nothing else but the constant and pious supplications of her own children?

“… are you the Immaculate Moon?”

… are you the Immaculate Moon?

A question to a question. Curiosity answering confusion. Genuine interest following true shock. Now Luna understood that short but vivid moment when she had witnessed a strange, out-of-place sight right in the middle of her return to power before Captain Sunfall Ordain’s wide eyes.

A silver presence, like a vast lake growing still.

She had acted the part of the Goddess… and the Goddess had actually taken note?

Luna steadied herself, trying to gather her thoughts. Whatever this force was, it was coming to her with an inquiry so far. A question whether… whether she, indeed, was anypony worth worshipping by the noctrali. Or, perhaps, whether she was usurping that sacred role? She had had, indeed, tried to assume these duties lately, at least when it suited her needs and that of Equestria.

Was this her judgment already? Or merely a first warning?

No, Luna couldn’t fall apart. Not now, not ever. Gone were the days and nights of constant fear and wallowing in her mistakes. Even if she had made another one, she would face it, with newly installed confidence. What she had done, appearing before Captain Sunfall Ordain twice already, wasn’t out of pride, out of self-interest or jealousy. And if she were to be appraised and found wanting for those actions?

She wouldn’t just go quietly into the night.

“How can this be? Are you a Goddess to my children?” she presented the question, ready to receive the affirmative answer.

… can… be.

That was, however, but the first segment of the reply. Still one that struck Luna firmly in her core, as being faced with a force confident enough to declare that was a singular experience. But the second portion was far more confounding in how strong it sounded.

… are.

The voice, the… Immaculate Moon didn’t say ‘are you’ this time, using a fragment of Luna’s question. Which meant that it had something else in mind.

“Are… wait, yes.” Luna actually stopped herself, coming closer to the terrace’s balustrade and supporting herself on it. It was her small act of defiance, of standing her ground and centering herself. “I think I should stop talking to you using only questions.”

… yes… stop.

And that, for all of the ground-breaking nature of that conversation, sounded like a kind, almost jocular request from the unseen force. And so Luna allowed herself that little bit of calm, for it appeared that this ‘Goddess’ was not harboring bad intentions, at least. The tone of that particular sentence was most genuine, and quite motherly as well.

“You say that you are a deity of my noctrali,” Luna spoke to the night’s sky, keeping eyes on her beloved Moon, but knowing that she could still be heard even without looking anywhere in particular. “But you have spoken very briefly with that ‘are’. There must be a reason. There is a reason.”

… there is a reason.

That was a full answer, even if still delivered as but an echo in the midst of the mountains. And still in the tongue of the noctrali, perfectly understandable.

“There is a reason, alright,” Luna spoke to herself, trying to gather yet greater focus, form the next sentences accordingly to handle this strange form of conversation. “You haven’t spoken of myself or yourself, that does not feel right, you would have made an indication somewhat. And if you’re not pointing out just one of us, that… You must mean us two.”

There was a pause, thought Luna wasn’t sure if it only felt like that in her mind. Because, if that inkling she had was right, that meant that this presence, calling itself the Immaculate Moon… was actually wishing to include her in the idea of the batpony’s deity.

… myself… yourself… right… us two.

There was that confirmation, which froze the blood in Luna’s veins like a gust of a mountain gale. Yes, she had always known the amount of devotion that she was being granted by her children to this very night, but the title which had been bestowed upon her she had never really… well, thought of. The role of a guiding presence, protector, motherly defender and caretaker – that all she could easily understand. But this name meant more, much more. It meant something spiritual, otherworldly, and even Luna’s incredible experience at tapping into the everchanging and overripe dreams hadn’t prepared her for this.

This was a matter of divinity. Invocation of an idea that was supposed to be above ideas, the bestower of concepts and thoughts.

And yet… something about this topic was, once again, eerily familiar. It was as if reaching back into the memories of one’s childhood and recognizing the smell of one’s old home, the sound of hoofsteps belonging to one’s parents, the warmth of the hearth in the humble hut. This wasn’t purely uncharted territory, no.

And Luna wanted to know why.

“You have contacted me because… I have finally acted before my noctrali like a Goddess.”

… contacted because… acted… like a Goddess.

“You are pleased… or displeased about that.”

… pleased… displeased.

Both. That meant both, and it was Luna’s goal to find the boundaries between the two. At least this remained a conversation rather than a clash, as she had been fearing to some degree.

Though it was still hard to believe she was talking with a force which recognized itself as the Immaculate Moon… Recognized them both like so.

“I have assumed that mantle lately, indeed. Have I gone too far with it, however? Yes or no?”

… no.

“Have I transgressed in how a Goddess should behave, in your mind? Yes or no?”

… yes… no.

A measure of doubt was present in that response, and Luna wondered whether this consciousness was not suggesting that it depended on more complex factors, ones harder to explain so far.

“You say that you are both displeased and pleased with me. Why is that? You claim that we are both the Goddess to the noctrali,” Luna spoke up, still standing her ground, establishing herself in these talks. “Is it because… because you have acted as Immaculate Moon when I couldn’t? When I hadn’t been able to, willing to?” she suddenly asked, spurred by a realization.

Yes, at times she had been barely able to do what was needed, to fulfill her sworn duties. In Equestria. Where she was, where she had returned to. Despite the pit she had been in, she had clung to those obligations with cold determination, not to be completely enveloped in the abyss of her own mind. But being the one to rise the Moon, to guard dreams, to protect the ponies of this land, that all was connected to one of her roles. Even before her exile she had been called a deity, but… had she ever acted like one? Was this presence, this somepony, the one who had been filling those old gaps?

… have acted as Immaculate Moon.

“Since when?” Luna asked when the voice followed and confirmed that reasoning… and only after a longer moment of silence did she realize that she hadn’t really given it anything to work with. “When I first visited the lands of Noctraliya, when I was received with honors and piety, have you been acting already? Afterwards? Much before?”

… much before.

And so did Luna suddenly feel like an upstart. Even if the entity didn’t carry with its response and accusation. Just a statement of the fact. Though, perhaps, there was this little bit of reluctant sadness in it.

“So… you are the true Goddess of my children…” Luna allowed herself the bittersweet commentary, though it was immediately answered.

… are the true Goddess.

That lonely ‘are’ again meant the conjoined right to the title and role, and it looked like the voice did its best to emphasize it, despite this limited form of communication.

Luna nodded, still a little reluctant, but continued to speak up, being devoured by curiosity at this point. “When I came to them, when we contacted Noctraliya, please tell me – what changed? For me and you? They called me their Goddess in the flesh, they spoke of prophecies having foreseen me coming to visit them. They bowed before me, they called themselves my children, and I called them the night-dwellers,” Luna revealed it all, though she had the feeling that it was all known to that presence.

Perhaps she was doing it more for herself, then. Diving back to the time before her fall, reminding herself of everything she had once lost through the twisted words of the Nightmare and the seduction of that dark force.

“How did that work, then? How does it work now? You had been, were and are the Goddess, now you say that we both are one? Is it because of them, did they cause that with their supplications? Need I say more – this is making me feeling like an intruder, like I had taken a role not deserved…”

That much was true. And Luna was casting the net wide, hoping at least some of her words would enable this unique discussion to continue.

The pause from the entity felt a little… conflicted, and that made Luna think that this being was having similar sort of trouble with this unforeseen conversation which she was, herself, enduring. Maybe the situation growing more and more serious forced it to act? Maybe just now were the correct circumstances for this contact to finally be made?

… changed… their Goddess in the flesh… did that work… we both are… because… they… need… an intruder… had taken a role… deserved.

Luna took a moment to formulate the proper response from those words, as they were spoken in some measure of concern, which was affecting their clarity. “So… that moment, indeed, changed everything? They required a Goddess in the flesh, and now we… we both are the Immaculate Moon for them, because they needed that?” She paused, taking it all in, and realizing what the final part meant for her, personally. “Th-thank you for the voice of support. It sounded like that, at least.”

… the voice… of support.

The notion behind the sentence was encouraging, yes, but the ‘voice’ sounded at least a little saddened, and that created a pause of its own.

“You seem disturbed, o voice,” Luna replied, trying to tap into empathy. Something she possessed aplenty, yes, though the darker years had made her a little rusty in using it. It was a good thing that her many nights of safeguarding dreams had restored her capabilities. “You have been their Goddess for… Well, ever since they invoked you, I imagine, perhaps even before that. And then I appeared…” Luna spoke, and then took a break, as it was more complex than that. “And then I went away… and now I am back again. My absence, the Eclipse, it was a tremendous trauma for my children. That and what happened right as it began, what I have learnt… That must have all been hard for you, as well.”

There was another pause before a reply, and it felt… appreciative. But sad. So terribly sad.

… the Eclipse… tremendous trauma for… my children… and… I.

Luna’s brow furrowed and a grimace twisted her lips at that declaration. Her fall had caused one more to be hurt, and it was a being of such a strange, ephemeral and potentially otherworldly nature, too. One more victim on Luna’s ledger.

But that couldn’t be changed, only repaid accordingly. For that she was ready.

“My mistakes cost all of us, dearly. For that, I am sorry. But you… still support me, as I understand. So, should I also understand that you are counting on me embracing the role in earnest, but…”

Luna understood. There wasn’t a vocal response, no, but she could have sworn that the attention she was receiving turned… blander. Not accusative, not irritated, and definitely not less motherly, but different. Negatively different. And as she thought about it, trying to grasp the nuances of this conversation so far, she believed she saw through the issue.

“You are the Immaculate Moon… and so you must love my children, as difficult as it might sometimes be. Perhaps you care for them, cherish them in a way much better than mine, for I… was away. Physically, mentally, emotionally. And so you don’t want to stop caring for them, even if I appear, even if am called the Goddess by them. Yes?”

… yes.

“Is it… is it inevitable that we must clash in this role? Or could we co-exist, somehow?” Luna inquired, as she felt rather moved by the fact that her actions had caused such a reverberation even in this entity. “I must admit that… I really have no experience in being a deity, nor do I think that I have the necessary qualities, not of that caliber, but I would truly not wish to—”

She wanted to continue, she really did, but something changed. In this already quite unforeseen dialogue there was a shift, one that Luna could feel in her core, connected as she was with that being from distant Noctraliya.

The movement, felt almost physically, made her feel nauseated, the contents of her innards twisting and turning. She could witness before her eyes, though against her will, a roiling substance, the surface of a silver lake shifting and churning. The sweeping power of this great distress passed through her core and almost wrenched tears from her eyes, as this crushing feeling of a thousand desperate voices filled her to the brim.

Two seemed most audible, though in the chaos Luna couldn’t identify them.

This shock lasted for but a moment, but left a lasting impression. Luna had to firmly steady herself against the balustrade, fighting the desire to fall prone next to it or, worse, vault over it in a dead faint.

Only after a moment did she manage to focus enough to form words, try to ascertain herself of what had just interrupted the conversation.

“What… what was that, that was… terrible,” she allowed herself the protest, trying to stop her legs from wobbling. “Is something wrong?”

… terrible… wrong.

There was genuine distress in the Goddess’ voice, which again rekindled that worry in Luna, though this time it looked like she was being screened from most of the perturbation forming in the entity.

Now it was the matter of finding out what had just occurred. The distress was causing Luna’s stomach to roll, but she focused on how the emotions felt, how they tasted. The sensation was sweet, but marred with bitterness of regret, worry. There was this cold feeling of hopelessness. What could have made a being like this one recoil, and with such a potent force?

What could make even divinity flinch?

That surge of emotions also felt… personal. Private. Intimate. It carried with itself deep shame, and a certain readiness. Terrible readiness. If the entity had felt it, it must have been offered to it, Luna reasoned. In a prayer? In hope of salvation or aid?

“Did somepony pray in great need?”

… did… pray in great need.

Luna figured as much, holding onto the marble railing and slowly regaining balance. “You… must be receiving quite a lot of difficult supplications, in this role,” she pointed out, using steady logic to steady the rest of her being and quell her thrashing heart. “Why did this one resonate so greatly with you? Was it unusual? Out of place?”

… difficult supplications… resonate.

There wasn’t more, so Luna had to provide other words and keep trying. Perhaps with an educated guess, at least.

“Difficult supplications that resonated with you… So something that you care deeply about? Something specific, perhaps? Is something dear to you in danger?”

… care deeply… in danger.

“Care deeply in danger,” Luna mouthed to herself, trying to get to the bottom of that meaning… and she managed to connect it, to the premise that had seemed to stir the Goddess before, to make Luna’s own being reverberate and initially form this communion. “Love. Is love in danger?”

… love in danger.

That tugged at Luna’s core once again, and potently. She recognized with full force that she was truly conversing with a benevolent deity, if the plight of a waning or perhaps breaking emotional connection was weighing on her so much.

Not to mention that something like that was usually a problem of a mere pair of ponies, as Luna imagined. First of, they must have felt especially close to the Goddess for her to feel so strongly about their trials and tribulations. And second, that was only one problem of, as it could be deduced, a myriad of smaller and greater issues of everynight life of simple ponies.

Luna would think about it for longer, much longer, but she suddenly felt another shift. Not as violent as the previous one, thankfully, but discernible. The connection that they had established with the entity was slowly fading. It seemed that the Goddess’ attention was being drawn someplace else, maybe to deal exactly with this latest, emerging problem.

“Before you go – why did you want to contact me, exactly?” Luna still called out, wishing to reach a closure about this incredible happening. “You wanted to familiarize yourself with me? You wanted to see if I… am worth the effort? Worth the role?”

Those questions perhaps sounded a bit defensive and unsure, which would definitely make Moonwarden shake his head, but Luna did not want to leave anything to chance.

… familiarize… with me… you… worth the effort… the role.

“I… I’m grateful,” Luna managed to reply, still amazed that she was being granted such motherly support and encouragement, as that tone was unmistakable. She actually had to fight tears, for it… it was evoking in her some very distant, almost forgotten memories. How long ago had it been…? “I wasn’t… I wasn’t expecting to meet with you, and… and be shown such a kind disposition, thank you.”

… meet with you.

That echo was clear, coherent and deliberate. Even in the fading connection the voice was ready to sound firm and regal, almost demanding. The intention was all there, and Luna couldn’t misunderstand it even if he tried.

And that meant that she found herself locked in place, receiving this specific request. She barely reached for her voice “… you… would like to meet me? As in – in the flesh?” she managed to ask, withstanding yet another shock that night, but finding it perhaps even less comfortable than the previous one, all things considered. “In Noctraliya?”

… meet… in the flesh… in Noctraliya.

That tone was definitely adamant. And, considering all that had been so far mentioned, it shouldn’t have actually been that surprising. If they were to… both fulfill this strange and sacred role to some extent, then that did require a certain cooperation, arrangements, and a copious amount of conversing. But the thought of meeting in person, that… that felt absolutely horrifying for Luna. Yes, she had taken a step forward out of her apathy, out of the darkness, but this wasn’t just another trot. This was a leap, ironically one of faith, and down a hardly explorable route of divine nature.

“W-when? Right now? Later?” she asked, hoping strongly for the latter answer. She could tell that her firm stance was getting a little wobbly once more, and not due to a backlash coming from emotional turmoil. Well, not of the sort she had just endured, at least, but one coming from the inside that time.

… later.

“When the time is right?”

… when the time is right.

At least that echo of her own voice and expressed hope was a great relief for Luna, she wouldn’t lie. Coming to Noctraliya, after so many years, and with this exact purpose? And with—

“Wait!” she shouted as if the connection was to be severed there and then. “Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Friendship. My envoy, our envoy, I hope. She remains in the Seven Mountains. Is she safe? Is she alright?”

… Twilight Sparkle… is… safe.

Luna would normally allow herself to sigh in relief, but… that reply wasn’t full, and deliberately so. And that was at least a little troubling, especially with Discord having decided that he was not going to provide direct aid in conveying messages for some time, at least.

… was it because of this Goddess? Had he come in contact with her, or had been stopped in his tracks by her power?

“Is something wrong? Is Twilight Sparkle facing difficulties?” Luna asked, but then decided that she couldn’t simply be passive in her questions and statements. “Her mission is vital, I think we both know and realize that, for the good of our children. I might have not made the wisest of decision to send her to Noctraliya without proper knowledge prior, but I know that she is making great progress. I do hope that she finds your grace as she does so.”

A pause lingered, once again, as the response was being formed from Luna’s words, but every second seemed to increase the tension exponentially.

… facing difficulties… her mission is vital… we both know…that, for the good of our children… hope… she finds… grace as she does so.

Of those words, ‘hope’ seemed the most vital one, accentuated as much as the echo could do so, making it repeat in Luna’s very being, almost as if she had just been given a taste of it herself.

Making her believe, not against her own will, that if the young alicorn would cling to it, she would succeed. Luna could have used such an encouragement a long, long time ago…

The feeling of being watched, of being observed and in the entity’s focus was melting away. So Luna called out once more, because there was still a matter vital to her. There were many, many more, truth be told, how often had somepony had a conversation like this? But she couldn’t allow herself to skip his one, considering the deep and private nature of this finishing conversation.

“Before you depart, please, tell me… should I… could I tell somepony about this?”

There was a pause, with the feeling not dissipating further. It was as if the being was pondering on how to answer. And Luna decided that it was her chance to reveal her plight, which had grown the longer this moment lasted.

“This is all a lot for me. I suppose I could bear and carry it all, I… I understand if this is a matter between the two of us only. It feels like it, definitely, for this burden, this role, there is no other like it. It is meant to be carried by me, by you – by us, as you have deemed. It’s just that…”

Luna faltered in her explanation briefly. The old scar stung, the ancient mistake returned to the forefront of her mind, and all the repercussions, the terrible fallout of her previous fault swept through her like the power of the Elements.

She had never told anypony how much that hurt. Perhaps that was the exact weakness she possessed, the one which had been exploited so viciously.

“I’ve… I’ve made this mistake before, not telling. I fear to make it again.”

Luna knew that she had to say it. Aloud. Firmly, even with her eyes watering a bit. If this communion had been and was still genuine, then the voice would understand what she was referring to. Still, it didn’t feel wrong to say a bit more, offer more so that the response would be correct.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. I feel… I felt you before, in moment of restoration. I sense you now, and your spirit seems kindred to mine, so much different than the Nightmare’s insidious presence. But… for the sake of the past, of what I will always carry, the wound, the scar, the anxious precaution… I want to tell somepony. Even if but one, so that I do not have to shoulder this alone, so that I can be supported in case I stumble. For I have ponies around me now, ponies that I care for, ponies that care about… me. The ‘me’ I am, with all of my faults, my mistakes… and some claim – my merits, too.”

There was a pause. But it didn’t seem to be focused on picking the right words, but rather acknowledgment of this plea, this explanation, and pontificating upon it. The distant Goddess paused and considered, approaching the matter with motherly understanding. Just like the Immaculate Moon had been always portrayed.

… could… tell somepony… one.

So there was the boundary, for now at least. And Luna was left to ponder why. Was it due to how close this connection was, and how it was possible that only the two of them could fully understand it – this voice and her? Or was it due to something that everypony dabbing into matters hidden realized? That a secret known to three ponies could have very well stopped being one?

But… Luna firmly believed that there was a pony she could share all of these incredible revelations with, and one that would be ready to assure with their very life that this mystery would remain unknown to others.

Although… making the choice of exactly which pony to confess it all before was going to be another matter entirely. Both were viable, both would listen and offer advice. But… which one would give her the support she needed in a moment like this?

Ah, but that was a problem to tackle later on.

“One. Very well,” Luna promised the entity, her gaze once again focusing on the distant horizon, so that this conversation could end properly. “Thank you. This… I’m honestly still not sure how I feel about all of this, but I appreciate that you have reached out. Though, you surely understand that I still have so many questions.”

… I still have so many questions.

That sentence came right back at Luna, yes. This definitely wasn’t going to be the last contact, never mind the request about her coming to Noctraliya, and she knew that there was so much left to explain and discuss. And that, obviously, both of them were willing to do so, wanting to learn about the other.

Her next sentence came out a little uncertain, however, for obvious reason. How do you say ‘until next time’ to a deity, exactly? How do you say it when you are considered one?

“You… know where to find me.”

… find me.

That time it was encouragement and a desire altogether, to battle Luna’s wavering. It was as if the voice wanted her to reach out, in more ways than just holding another talk. In this brief moment there had been an almost hopeful wish expressed, of trust and understanding. And of the expectation that Luna would continue on the right path and find herself, alongside her great, destined role.

How could such a short sentence carry so much weight? Especially since it was just an echo of Luna’s own words?

“I… will do my best,” she promised, as if speaking to a parent, and despite all of the questions manifesting inside of her. “Fare thee well, o Immaculate Moon...”

… fare the well, o Immaculate Moon…

And that was it.

Luna blinked as if she had just woken up from a dream, so strange was this emptiness which followed the Goddess’ presence departing from her core. Like a nightly fantasy, a wonderful, blissful vision fading away, so did the joy of being in communion with a being like that evaporated from Luna’s mind and core, no matter how firmly she wanted to hold onto it.

It… It really had felt like a mother’s caring embrace. And so Luna didn’t stop tears welling up in her eyes, as she had every right to long for the feeling, to wish for it to stay or return as soon as possible. It was a most relieving thing for her that she could reach for her tears and they felt… good, once again. They weren’t drying out before ever emerging, from the dark and scorching grasp of the abyss, nor did they feel heavy and draining.

These were liberating.

After a moment Luna dried her eyes and sighed. It felt like a path was opening before her, one that felt new, and yet simultaneously old. Older. Perhaps oldest, even.

She was meant to share a pivotal, divine role. Genuinely this time. She wasn’t going to be holding an empty title, have at her hooves a whole pious nation just because. No, a destiny was being presented before her, to be a silver beacon for at least a portion of the vast world, the one which looked up into the night’s sky and venerated the Moon. Immaculate.

What a nerve-racking prospect that was, but one that Luna couldn’t just overlook. Yes, it was still her choice, as nothing about the conversation which had just ended spoke of coercion. And yet she felt that she… wanted to make it. Especially when a force, which had been fulfilling this role for only it knew how long exactly, had reached out.

Luna looked up once again, meeting the gaze of the distant, argent Moon.

It didn’t feel shared, divided, contested. It just felt beautiful. Pure, and pale, and perfect.

And now Luna also felt… purposeful. She had been offered great kindness, she felt. A chance to, perhaps, create a bright, wonderful future, to repay the world and history for her previous, nightmarish mistakes.

She wouldn’t flinch, not with that warmth in her heart.

“Hwalba knaze…”

Twilight flinched.

An alien voice reached her ears and, like that, the pivotal moment was gone.

She gritted her teeth to the point when pain erupted somewhere in her jaw. She was trying to contain her outrage, her protest, her—

She turned her head away from the stallion opposite and faced a robe-clad arcemandr who acted as the most inopportune messenger.

“Yes, arcemandr? What is the matter?”

“Forgive a humble servant of Bogine for approaching. I was tasked by an envoy from the palace to notify you – the Honored Count wishes to see you now… as soon as you return to the complex, that is,” came the whisper, conveying exactly what Twilight didn’t want to happen there and then.

She took a deep breath, because what else was there to do. “Very well. I shall come without delay.”

And she stood up, feeling her legs protesting against the need to do so. She closed her eyes, trying to focus, trying to keep her composure. It wasn’t easy, not at all, as with what had just happened she felt—!

Twilight didn’t know how to name that feeling, actually. It was cold, definitely, but also most complex after what she had just promised, after what kindness she had just offered. And to have the moment snatched from her like so, it felt unfair, it felt unjust from the world around her.

She glanced to the side, at the silver discus above the altar. And even that sight, one that was meant to represent so much, caused her upper lip to twitch in frustration.

Why now, o merciful Goddess? Where had you been?!

Still, Twilight remained overall collected, making sure that her ensemble wasn’t too wrinkled from sitting down. She then managed to turn her head to the warrior next to her.

“Escort me,” she required, to which he saluted, having already assumed the right stance while showing no emotion whatsoever.

“Right away, Honored Princess,” was his official response, though of mindful volume, appropriate for the holy space.

Soon after Twilight was on her way back to the palace, with the batpony in tow.

She was trotting begrudgingly, trying to keep her breathing even.

The future… The future had to wait.