Of Doubts and Demons

I landed on my balcony a few moments later, cold despite the warmth in the air. I was back later than I meant to be and I should have hurried to wake Celestia to make up for lost time, but I didn’t move. I could only stand there, shaking slightly. I felt jittery, like I had trodden on an anthill and the colony swarmed my legs and flank. It ran deeper, though. The invisible ants burrowed inside my skull. They made me want to shiver and scream and run.

Nervously, I shook out my neck and mane, enjoying the tickling of hair scratching my skin, and I imagined that I was shaking the jitter ants away. See, it’s over with, I told myself. You’ve shaken it away. Forget what it said. This wasn’t the first time a shadow had attempted to get under my skin, although this was the first time I felt like it succeeded. Normally, I had some moments to prepare myself against one, where I could focus on something insignificant for it to pull out of me rather than letting it truly reach deep into my heart. I shook again, the realization bringing back my uneasiness. It wanted me to focus on your fear instead of it, so I would lower your guard. What it said isn’t true and I knew it. Don’t let it rattle you like this. I breathed deeply to calm myself. You did well, I told myself.

The thought brought back my confidence, and I entered the castle through my window. Celestia’s room wasn’t far away from mine, just down the hallway and last door on the left. My hoof-steps echoed in the quiet and I felt alone. It was a different feeling than solitude which I’d grown accustomed to. This loneliness pressed hard on my chest, making it feel like my harness was constricting my breaths. I was suddenly grateful I was at Celestia’s chamber door and knocking to wake her up—I wouldn’t be alone for much longer.

I heard her groan and, from the sound of it, turn over and put her pillow over her ears.

“C’mon, Celie, rise and shine. Literally.”

“The sun can wait to rise for another ten minutes,” she responded, her voice sounding muffled.

“I’m late as it is, so no it can’t.”

She groaned again, mumbled something I couldn’t understand, but within a minute she opened the door. Her rainbow mane was ragged from sleep and one whole side of her fur was sticking up against the grain.

“You look lovely this morning,” I teased. “Sleep well?”

“Shush.” Celestia walked by, headed to the bathroom to get ready for the day. I smiled to myself—she handled getting up far better than I did. I required at least a half hour of snooze time before I finally dragged myself out of bed.

With nothing else to do, I headed into the inner courtyard to wait for her. The moon stared down on me as I sat down in front of it. It was beautiful, no matter what that shadow said. It wasn’t just in my head. My night was a glory to behold and everypony knew that; after all, they didn’t drop asleep as soon as the moon rose. I knew ponies across Equestria watched as I called out the stars one by one.

I heard Celestia approaching behind me and she sat down next to me, her mane and tail brushed and smoothed so they rippled as though blown by a wind only she could feel. Her crown now sitting on top of her head and her harness gleamed in the moonlight.

“It’s a little bit early, don’t you think?” She asked.

I shrugged. “It’s been a slow night.”

She looked thoughtful. “I suppose. And I do have quite the day ahead for me.”

With that, I opened my wings and hovered above the castle, the moon level with me. My horn ignited and the familiar cyan glow surrounded the moon. A warmth flowed through me from it, and I felt like the moon had become a part of my own body, or rather that my body became a part of the moon. I slowly lowered and touched back on the courtyard, and the moon mimicked my action until it was parallel with the ground. I dipped my head and it disappeared beneath the horizon.

Celestia spread her white wings and lit her horn—the sky instantly lightened at her magic, transforming from soft blue to pink. She beat her wings and lifted into the sky, the sun following after her. The brightness of the sun after the dimness of night forced me to look away, but Celestia never seemed bothered by it. She only closed her eyes as it rose above the horizon. She released her magic when it was high enough for the morning and flapped back down to earth, yawning loudly.

“How was your night?” She asked me as we headed back inside the castle.

“Dreadfully dull. For the most part. Helped a sleepwalking pony, fought off a shadow creature, accidentally scared a family of raccoons.”

“You’re still dealing with Sombra’s shadows?” She sounded worried and my heart sank. I didn’t want her to worry about my duties; she had enough to deal with than to have to add what was on my plate.

“It was nothing,” I dismissed. “Took care of it within a few seconds.” Give or take. “How does your day look?”

“Dreadfully busy.” she winked as she said it, making me laugh.

“Wishing you had my shift now, don’t you?”

“Wishing that the Crystal Empire business had never occurred.”

This sobered me up.

Although it’s been several years, we were still feeling the repercussions of the Crystal Empire event, not just from the shadows that still plagued us. King Sombra was a tyrant, a powerful mage, and horribly clever. While we were still cleaning up the damage that Discord brought to our land (and me taking over the day shift just to help with the efforts), Sombra seized his opportunity in our distraction. By the time we realized what was happening, Sombra had overthrew the rightful rulers and enslaved the crystal ponies. When we led a siege on the city to take back control, we turned him into shadow, but not before he casted a powerful spell, causing the kingdom to vanish, leaving us and our army standing in the cold.

But that wasn’t really the issue now, not really—when we defeated Discord with the Elements of Harmony, our subjects were jubilant that we had freed them from his reign. When Sombra rose, they felt assured that we would be victorious once more. But the Fight for the Crystal Empire was seen as a defeat on our part; we failed to save the crystal ponies. Now they doubted our leadership, seeing how quickly an enemy could rise and defeat us (Discord) or prove our tactics useless (Sombra).

As the tribes’ leaders liked to point out, they could govern themselves. We were just there to prevent war and protect Equestria

And we were failing on those regards.

“What time should I wake you?” Celestia asked when I reached my bed room.

“Same time as usual.” I disappeared into my quiet room. In a few minutes, the helper ponies would start waking up and getting things ready for the day ahead. The castle sometimes reminded me of a slumbering beast who, once the blood started flowing and tiredness stopped weighing him down, would stretch and rise and go on its merry way. I wasn’t saying that this was a bad thing, not at all—it was just that, after being removed from the noise of day for so long, I could no longer remember what it was like to move through the noise and be a part of it.

I magicked the curtains closed in my room, reducing the sun’s rays from intense to a small line against the tile. Although my room is smaller than Celestia’s, that fact’s never bothered me too much. It’s not like I spent much of my time in here. Like the night, it’s heavy in dark blues and purples, with black and white accents. The ceiling was high and painted with stars that shined softly in the dark. The furniture I had were soft and comfy, where a pony could easily curl up and relax in front of the fireplace. I had a small collection of weapons next to the dresser—they didn’t get as much use as they once did, when I had much more dangerous monsters to stand against, where my magic proved useless against their armored backs.

My black harness slipped off easily and I laid it beside to the door. I kicked off my horseshoes. My crown came next, and I set it on my night stand.

I snuggled under the covers and retreated behind the darkness of my closed lids. It had been a long night. My legs felt tingly and weightless as I lay, the pressures of work finally gone and now were able to relax. Sleep should have come easily for me. The closer to sleep I got, however, the more the shadow’s words came back to haunt me.

I tried to block them out, but I couldn’t stop them when they were coming from inside of me. It was easy to snap back at the creature, but in the quiet of my own bedroom, I was forced to listen to the shadow’s words repeated over and over again. The more I listened, the less I could respond back to shut them down. I wanted to blackout, postpone the moment I would have to digest what it told me for as long as possible.

Despite the words against me, I knew my responses were true.

The problem was, I was starting to see its words as also being true.

I wasn’t jealous of my sister—that I knew for certain. I knew the kind of work she went up against, and I wouldn’t trade our positions for the world. Far too scheduled yet completely hectic, and far less exciting than what the night offered. I’d take dangerous creatures and battling for survival over dignitaries and paperwork anytime.

I didn’t care that the ponies slept through my night—that’s what I strived for, to give them peace and safety while they slept. The night was created for slumber in the first place. I was the one who brought forth calmness and quietness to allow for it, and I wouldn’t stop fighting for it.

It said those were lies you’ve told yourself to feel better about it. Okay, maybe that was true, but so what? This is what it took to maintain harmony, especially now with how fragile it had become. Until things had stabilized, even if I didn’t like it all the time, there was literally nothing I could do about it.

I rolled over fitfully and squeezed my eyes shut, as though that alone could drive away the memory. I buried things so deep inside myself, emotions I didn’t even know I had, and the shadow knew just how to dig to unearth them. Leaving me with the consequences.

That was the danger of shadows—their words felt and sounded true, so much so that you wanted to believe them, to fit the world into the words’ shape.

I knew what it had uncovered, the real reason why I couldn’t sleep. Everything else were things I could easily dismiss as lies.

Do your subjects love you, Luna?

I could respond Yes as much as I wanted to and not change anything. I could scream No and still have no idea if it was true. And that scared me deeply.

They have to see all that you’ve done for them, I thought. Your work doesn’t exist in a vacuum.

I forcefully rolled over and tightened the covers around myself. Your subjects appreciate you, Luna, I told myself. They appreciate your night, your fight to keep them safe. Don’t listen to the shadow’s words.

Prove them wrong.