Today is unremarkable. It is as the day before, and it will be as the following day. Perhaps I ought to assign some higher meaning to each day I live, but it just seems utterly pointless. I am simply the ruler of Equestria, and the daily grind of meeting with dignitaries, royal decrees, and sitting on a throne differs little from day to day.
Today? Still, my mind slaves to the designations of day and night. According to the clock at my bedside, it is daytime. The view outside my window begs to differ. Perhaps it is a monument to my glory. I prefer to think of it as a reminder of who I am; I am the pony in charge, and my only meaningful decree has been eternal night.
The Moon’s glowing orb incessantly gazes over Equestria from its fixed place in the sky now. Even if I wanted to end the night, I lack the power to raise the Sun, nor is my sister here any longer to bother with such trivialities. There are greater uses for my magic than an arbitrary day/night cycle that never benefited anypony.
Ironically, I find precious little to expend my magic on. I have great power, and none of it has a use. I am a monarch, not a dictator.
As I perform my “morning” routine, I reflect on the past several years. My first months of rulership were the responsibility I had craved my entire life and it was finally my sovereign duty and mine alone. If I made a mistake, it was mine to correct. If I made a wise decision, it was to my benefit. I finally found myself able to answer to... well, myself.
The citizens of Everfree, to their credit, handled my coup with great understanding. I was simply honest with them, sharing my growing frustration at my sister’s adamant refusal to allow my night, my sole responsibility being shadowed by her own, her determined lack of concern seemingly goading me into action... all of it. I was angry, and I lashed out at her in anger. And the citizens, despite this, seemed quite understanding indeed of what had transpired.
Of course, there was some concern over my stability as ruler. I did not look as the familiar Princess Luna did, but little had changed me mentally, if anything. The most I can determine is that the dark power which now courses through my body transformed me, as my previous vessel was simply not durable enough to contain such strength. My anger and frustration possessed me to strike down my sister, not an event outside of my control. All which has happened to me has been solely my choice from the beginning.
Were it within my power, I would not continue this eternal night. To be honest, I missed the Sun greatly. Its newborn rays just peeking over the horizon as my eyes closed felt as familiar and as welcome as a hug from a loved one, or eating a favorite meal. I have not felt serenity since such beautiful light shined upon my eyes.
Another slog to the throne room. Another day of doting upon the whims of nobles and hearing the plights of the struggling farmponies. Another day spent living on what feels like borrowed time. I am ageless, yet my body feels ancient. Gravity weighs me down, a millstone forcing me to bow under the realization of the pony I am and the choices I have made.
I question the Elements of Harmony and their decision. They, of course, do not give me power; there is no threat great enough to need their intervention. The last time they were wielded was by my sister; she aimed the Elements at me, but I was not their target, apparently, as their magic enveloped her and carried her into the sky on a spectacular rainbow, exiling her to the product of her cutie mark, that symbol which I had coveted for so long. The Sun sank under the horizon several minutes after that. It has not risen since.
Initially, my assumption was that the Elements aimed to punish my sister. As the days tick by, I find myself looking into the sky more and more, hoping for the Sun to come peeking over the horizon. I know it won’t. Perhaps this is my punishment, after all, and her blessed release from a life she despised.
My sister’s sacrifice communicated a stronger message for me, as well. A magic with moral capacity—that is, which sees good and evil, as the Elements do—can be violent, unpredictable, and, at times, capable of wrongdoing in the eye of the beholder. There was one final lesson for her to teach me, this time at her expense rather than my own: Restraint.
Not that I needed such a lesson. My duty and my commitment is to the citizens of Equestria. My rebranding of myself as Nightmare Moon rather than Princess Luna is my commitment to the citizens of Equestria that I will no longer be the meek, voiceless placeholder they envisioned me to be.
I cast my gaze out of one of the windows of the castle, my ears picking up playful screaming outside. Foals chase one another about the palace grounds, their cries of joy reaching my ears and warming my heart. It is the knowledge that I have kept intact this nation of ponies who could have just as easily rejected me and instated their own leadership, but trust me with their well-being nonetheless.
Yet, despite this mutual trust, I feel as if I am a usurper. I am no queen; I am not even a princess now, at least by name. I am... a blank slate. I am the will of the nation of Equestria—or so I hope. My only wish is that my betrayal of my sister not be for the worse.
The door to the throne room is magically opened by the guards in front of it, affording me a view of my daily task. My eyes cast over the assembled Canterlot citizens, a conglomeration of rich, poor, and middle-class ponies from what appear to be all trots of life. As happens every day I come through these doors, I simply stare at the ponies milling about. They glance up and see me, forming a rough line with small groups of ponies discussing their issues which brought them here today.
In my mind, as with every day, I simply watch them and question my place in this matter. I pass judgment over... all of them? The farming earth ponies, the entrepreneurial unicorns, the weather-manipulating pegasi—merchants, downtrodden, wanderers, they all fall under an umbrella which I personally supervise and pass decrees over. If I were to not act in the best interests of any of them, not only would the ponies rebel, brother fight brother, possibly even result in my death... but I would be a greater failure than my sister ever could have been.
As with every day, I resolve to act in the best interests of all ponies, no matter how great or minor I may personally find it to be. I must be fair in my judgment and do all to the greater benefit of, not only those ponies who see me, but all ponies everywhere.
My resolve re-centered, I take a deep breath and approach my throne.
The majority of my royal duties go by in a blur. I mostly only recall my decrees. “If neither of you can choose who owns all assets, then you may share it and your profits as equals.” “The Royal Treasury has no need of higher taxation. Simply complete a form for a formal request for a finance increase and a financier will review your funding budget.” “Give Canterlot a week-long drought, then. The importance of crops far outweighs green grass for croquet.” Each decision weighs heavily on my conscience: Is a split profit for a home built by one pony on land owned by another pony fair? Is a town in need of greater funding really discouraged from turning to its citizens and instead encouraged to rely on Canterlot’s surplus funding? Do the Canterlot ponies really deserve a week-long drought so the farmer ponies may monopolize the clouds being manufactured for their crops? Each of them seems fair now; ultimately, I will only know if my decisions were wise in hindsight.
Several hours later, a royal guard shouts to the assembled ponies. “Elected leader Nightmare Moon will hear no further concerns today. Sleep hours approach. Royal court is adjourned!”
A collective groan is elicited by the slowly dwindling number of ponies; they will be put at the top of the list for having their voices heard on the following day, but not this day.
A voice calls out in the crowd, “Princess! Princess!”
My eyes make out a somewhat older-looking unicorn pushing his way through the ponies trying to exit, toward me. We make eye contact and he shouts again, “Princess!”
My eyes narrow slightly. “I am no longer a princess, but please speak.”
“Royal guards are on their way with a murderer. He—he murdered my daughter! My... my little filly....” He pauses, his voice overcome with emotion as tears make their already familiar treks down his cheeks. “Please tell me you’ll see justice is served.”
“I will do what I find just.”
He looks at me in a brief moment of fear, thinking I may perhaps let a murderer go free, then mutters an uncertain, “Thank you.”
As soon as the words escape his mouth, my ears pick up the commotion down the hallway. The royal guards enter moments later, four of them surrounding an earth pony with a shaggy, matted beard and no clothes. His compatriot, the elderly unicorn, was dressed in fine clothes and, despite his sorrowful demeanor, carried a slight air of authority. I quickly recognized a wealth gap between the two; it could be a potential motivation for murder for the earth pony, but could also be blinding the unicorn.
I direct my attention to the royal guards. “Speak. What reason does this citizen of Equestria have to be accused of murder?”
“He admitted to the deed, elected leader.”
My gaze rests upon the earth pony. “What is your name, citizen?”
His eyes stare grievously into mine, sorrow etched into every line of his demeanor. “M-Mustard Seed, elected leader.”
I shift over to the unicorn. “And what is the name of the spokespony’s affected party?”
“Lumo Ray, elected leader.” The unicorn balefully adds, “My daughter’s name was Incandescence.”
The ponies which had been departing seem to be milling around, just within earshot of the trial. I pointedly ignore them. “Mustard Seed, explain your actions and your reasons for performing as such.”
“I killed her.” Mustard Seed’s admittance stilled the air of the room. Those still assembled held their breath, anticipating his explanation. Several moments later, he went on. “I was cleanin’ her chambers, same as always. She... she told me she’d like to—”
“Just recite the act, earth pony!” Lumo Ray interrupts the recounting of the tale.
“Guards, please remove Lumo Ray from my presence so that I may hear Mustard Seed’s tale without undue interruption.” The guards nod and Lumo Ray, shock written on his face, is escorted outside of the throne room.
My gaze shifts back to Mustard Seed. “Continue.”
“She told me she’d like to kiss me. I got a wife and foals, ma’am. I can’t be foolin’ for their sakes. So I told her I couldn’t. She said she’d kill me if I didn’t.” He paused, visibly shaken by this portion of the recounting. “I was scared. Scared of a unicorn barely outta school. I ain’t got no way of protectin’ myself. I saw her horn start t’ glow, and I...” he paused. “I had to stop her. I got my wife and foals to provide for. She was gonna kill me.”
“I think I understand your perspective well enough. Thank you.” I look at a guard near the door. “Please escort Lumo Ray back to the proceedings.”
Lumo Ray comes back in, indignation on his face. “Removed from court proceedings for my only daughter! She’s dead, elected leader! And this pony is telling you to your face that she’s dead! Why should anything else matter?”
“Facts are paramount, Lumo Ray. I simply wished to hear his side of the events uninterrupted. Now you may have your say.”
“What’s there to say?” he retorted.
“If you don’t wish to provide your perspective, we will accept Mustard Seed’s testimony as the only evidence.”
Lumo Ray was silent for a short time, then he spoke. “She didn’t see him as a pony like you and me, elected leader.”
“I’m sorry?”
“She didn’t think earth ponies are as unicorns. Earth ponies have always been a lesser race. I have—had, this one as my servant, unkempt as he may be. I thought the poor creature needed my help. I never thought Incandescence would fancy him as an object.”
“Why would Incandescence see Mustard Seed as an object?”
“Because of the company she lives in.” Lumo Ray didn’t seem as bothered by his obvious racism as the aghast ponies hearing his self-damning statement. “She’s been in unicorn communities most her life, but she’s seen what earth pony towns look like. Earth ponies are farmers by nature; they don’t understand sophistication or civility. Would you look after a dog as your own kind because they can bark coherent sentences?”
Obvious astonishment pervaded the courtroom. Those gathered knew the light in which I viewed this kind of bigotry. I decided to push onward. “Let’s discuss Incandescence’s predisposition towards violence.” I nod at Lumo Ray. “Lumo Ray, please describe your daughter’s character.”
“A lady. She presents herself as a delicate flower. I admit that I have not seen her outside of her guise as much as I should have. I wouldn’t think her capable of murdering a servant, though.”
“Very well.” I look at Mustard Seed. “Mustard Seed, you cleaned her chambers regularly?” Mustard Seed nods. “Tell me what you observed of Incandescence’s character.”
“She was nice, ma’am. Least, nicer than the other nobles.” The sting on Lumo Ray was not missed as he shot a glare at Mustard Seed. “I seen her beat a servant once or twice, but never me.”
“How thoroughly did she beat the servants?”
“To bloody, ma’am. I never seen a pony so injured. I can only remember once real well. I dunno if the pony died or not. I just know they never came back. I saw ‘em all bloodied up, looked like a broken leg and maybe a broken nose. I ain’t no doctor.” He glanced over at Lumo Ray to gauge his reaction. “She used magic, though. To beat ‘im.”
“And you think that Incandescence was going to beat you as well, either to death or to the point that you could no longer work. Is this correct?” He nodded. “Why do you think she was motivated to beat you?”
“The same thing happened before, ma’am. I heard my friend tellin’ her no one night, that he ain’t the pony to sleep around with. She started hittin’ him and tellin’ him he didn’t have a choice.”
“Elected leader, if I may interject,” Lumo Ray said. “This was following death of a family member. Her uncle, whom she had known many years, had passed away.”
“Was Incandescence’s behavior treated?”
“It was. She began seeing a psychiatrist immediately following the incident. I saw her behavior as deplorable. Even a dog is still a friend and shouldn’t be beaten on a whim.”
“I understand the analogy. Thank you for your helpful statement, Lumo Ray. Mustard Seed, what reason do you have to believe that Incandescence was going to kill you?”
“Her eyes.” Lumo Ray shuddered. “I could see this look in her eyes. This ‘I get my way or you get axed’ look. I knew it, clear as day. Same eyes as when she beat the other stallion.”
“That’s not exactly compelling. Was there anything else?”
“Her horn was glowing too. And she looked ready to murder me.”
“All right. I understand your concerns.” I glance outside the window, where the Moon stares coldly back. “Court has been adjourned for the day. I will have the necessary paperwork gathered from the professional resources involved and review the evidence before the beginning of court tomorrow. Mustard Seed will remain in my custody and kept under guard. Lumo Ray will stay in the royal castle this evening if he wishes. This matter will be taken care of as a first order of business tomorrow.”
My eyes blur momentarily as I stare at the seventh page of the psychiatry report on Incandescence. She had little to no predisposition for violence; her reasons for beating the servant were because of her frustrations over a long courtship having soured and she was aiming to make some kind of statement. When her plan failed, she got even angrier and struck the servant several times. She did not mean undue harm.
In line with Incandescence’s report, the servant earth pony, a Rough Ridges, had come off sporting some large bruises and a single bloody wound, which appeared to be a minor tear caused by a hoof dragging across the other pony and consequent pulling of their skin; it was a minor surface tear, not a gouge or a cut that magic would create. It was most certainly not as Mustard Seed had described it; at worst, Rough Ridges looked like he had been drinking too much cider and gotten in a fight. The payment for damages my assistants had found in the paperwork scuffle showed a handsome sum paid to the pony, presumably to keep his mouth shut; as far as earth pony standards, that likely would have been enough for a middle-aged pony to retire early with their family, which is likely what Rough Ridges did.
I found my thoughts dallying on my sister. She just seemed to know these things so... effortlessly. I wonder if she likewise questioned her own judgment as greatly as I question mine now. For years, I have been making decisions just like this one; every time, I am afraid I am putting an innocent pony behind bars and allowing brigands and thieves to run free.
Perhaps I am no better than they. I cannot be certain that my sister had committed any crimes, and she was snatched away from me before she had a chance to answer for any she may have had. I think the choice obvious from what I have reviewed... but I always get the feeling I am overlooking something crucial, something I ought to know before being certain.
Did Celestia ever feel this uncertainty, choosing like this? Was she ever in over her head, doubtful and afraid, knowing that if her choice is wrong, Equestria was the worse for it? If she ever had, she never showed me how she felt.
She always seemed so... certain of everything. Every judgment she passed, every decree she made, every movement and every syllable and every thought. It was her element, not mine.
A loud yawn escapes me. I look outside instinctively, expecting to see the inevitable sunrise. Instead, I see the Moon’s harsh glare.
Words cannot convey how much I miss that sight right now.
The few hours of sleep I managed to capture before re-establishing myself in the throne room haven’t made the large difference I had hoped they would. My solace is taken in the knowledge that my decision had been made well before exhaustion had impaired my judgment. My choice is scrawled on a piece of paper at my side, which I will read from before documenting it as the Royal Court’s official decision on this matter.
The same quartet of guards as yesterday shuffles into the throne room, surrounding Mustard Seed. He looks even more haggard than yesterday, likely due to his first evening in the holding cells; this is becoming an increasingly familiar sight as my rule lengthens. About a minute behind Mustard Seed’s escort, Lumo Ray appears, wearing a brand new outfit and exuding considerably more pomp in his posture than yesterday.
“Court is in session,” I drawl. “Addressing the verdict of the alleged murder of Incandescence, daughter of Lumo Ray, at the hooves of Mustard Seed, earth pony servant.” I am doing what I can to appear disconnected from my decision. My eyes slowly scan down the paper as I read out loud what I wrote down last night. “Mustard Seed is found guilty of the murder of Incandescence and will serve a sentence in accordance with his crimes: an unlit jail cell until such a time as he perishes of his own volition, whether it be of old age or of his own decision to refuse food and drink for an extended period of time. This seems an unnecessarily harsh punishment in Equestrian society, but harsh punishment must be exercised for such a harsh crime. Perhaps the better part of a lifetime to consider your actions will find you some repentance therein.”
I pause, gauging the reaction of the audience. I glance over my paper, at the faces of the two ponies whose fates I am sealing. Mustard Seed’s eyes already show his regret for his actions, his poor decision made in haste, this singular occasion in which his fight-or-flight response failed him which has spelled out a life of agonizing, mind-twisting, torturous solitude. Lumo Ray’s eyes sparkle, his obvious approval of this awful punishment a depressing testament to the downside of unbiased judgment. I press on.
“Mustard Seed’s family finances will be provided for by the Royal Treasury for 30 consecutive periods of 24 hours starting at the beginning of the hour following this ruling. This will cover standard cost of living for all members of the household, but will not allot for anything deemed by Article VII of the Finance Bill for Disadvantaged Ponies to be outside of the scope of necessary living. They must fill out an application for city support until such a time as their family can be adequately supported on its own.”
Another pause. My eyes stay on my paper this time. “Addressing the verdict of the alleged involvement of Lumo Ray, father of Incandescence, in the murder of Incandescence.”
Immediately, Lumo Ray speaks up. “What is the mean—”
“Court is in session, subject Lumo Ray. Please abstain from any further interruptions.” I glance over my paper at Lumo Ray, whose mouth hangs open briefly before snapping shut. I push on with my verdict. “Lumo Ray is found to have encouraged the actions of the victim in maltreatment of other ponies and will serve a sentence in accordance with his crimes: an unlit jail cell adjacent from Mustard Seed’s until the expiration of one week. Perhaps a week spent with your fellow pony will remind you that he acted as he did as a product of your teachings. While you ponder your thoughts in silence, ask yourself which pony was little better than an animal here: The one who acted out of self-preservation, or the one who was about to, as you stated, ‘beat their dog.’”
“This is preposterous!” Lumo Ray is understandably outraged. “You can’t expect me to go to prison! I’ve done nothing wrong!”
“The court disagrees with you, subject Lumo Ray.”
“No, you just don’t like me!”
“I don’t like you? Subject Lumo Ray, were I acting in my own interests, you would also be left to rot in a jail cell and never see the light of the Moon again. Equestria has no place for such dogma as yours; it is a nation founded upon unification, not subjugation. Your behavior is in direct conflict with our founding creeds. However, I cannot judge on thought crimes; your inaction in teaching preventive behavior resulted in the murder of your daughter. You have blood on your hooves, and the court’s decision is to let you stew on that blood you shed.
“You will both be consigned to jail cells at the beginning of the following hour,” I continue without giving Lumo Ray a chance to interrupt, “the same hour in which Mustard Seed’s family will begin receiving financial aid for the period of 30 24-hour periods. You may both review your crimes and the court’s decision, as well as all official rulings, in your dossiers prior to consignment to your cells. It is currently 12 minutes past the beginning of the 9th hour. Make your arrangements and make your peace. Court will break for a brief recess, to resume at the beginning of the 10th hour.”
I turn my back on the two judged ponies, leaving the throne room as I hear Lumo Ray’s cries of outrage follow me out. “You can’t treat me like this! I have an estate! I have appointments! My contacts cannot perform without my approval! If you don’t rescind your judgment, I’ll be—”
I magically close the door behind me. Blessed silence. Finally.
I wander through the corridors, not quite ready to rejoin the court and pass yet more judgment, but not entirely certain what I aim to do with my recess either.
My meanderings are cut short when I come across a quartet of guards in the hallway surrounding Mustard Seed. “What is the meaning of this?”
The guard with the fanciest hat snaps to attention. “Elected leader, this pony asked to be escorted to the window. We saw no reason not to grant his request.”
“Very well.” I pause briefly, looking at Mustard Seed. His eyes gaze sorrowfully outside at the Moon. I have a feeling he wants to speak to me. “Leave us.”
“Elected lea—?”
“I said, leave us.”
The guard in the fancy hat snaps to attention again and departs.
I stare out the window with Mustard Seed for several long minutes, my gaze similarly set on the Moon. He volunteers nothing, so I break the ice. “Do you find it beautiful?”
“I do.”
“Then why do you look so sad?”
“I just... imagined my death would be under a shinin’ Sun.”
“The Sun no longer rises on Equestria, Mustard Seed. You ask for the impossible.”
“It’s still somewhere out there. I know it.” Mustard Seed’s eyes glisten in the pale light. “I won’t live to see it again, though.”
Several more minutes pass in silence. I know there’s something he wants from me. I just can’t decide what. “Do you wish to be brought to the surface again from time to time?” A shake of the head. “Do you wish for better funding for your family?” Another shake. “Do you wish a harsher punishment on Lumo Ray?” Another shake. “Perhaps a lesser punishment?” Yet another. I sigh exasperatedly. “This is not twenty questions. You may ask me what it is that you want.”
“Well... it’s just... the night’s beautiful.” He’s purposely trying to dodge the question.
“And...”
“But I just...”
“You just...”
“Can you... can you bring the Sun up?”
I look at him in amusement. “To what end?”
“I mean... you have control over the Sun and the Moon, don’t you?”
I see no reason why I shouldn’t lie to him. “That is correct. Why do you want me to make the Sun rise?”
“I... I miss the sunrise. That’s all.”
“Many ponies miss the sunrise. Why should I make the Sun rise for you alone?”
“Final wish from a pony that’s gonna live in eternal darkness for the rest of his life?”
“I truly wish the judgment needn’t be so harsh. Equestrian law is quite clear.”
“I wasn’t askin’ for that. I’ve made my peace.” His eyes still have not left the Moon; they are staring at it, searching for the answer he wants and cannot get. “I... miss it. That’s all.”
He tears his eyes away from the Moon. “It’s time.” He rounds the corner, where his escort forms around him once more. He walks away, dignity in his movement. He is resigned to his fate.
Just as I am resigned to mine.
“I miss her too.”
If only wishes came true.
