Their Names Are Never Spoken
When asked, Princess Luna always seemed happy to talk about the Nightmare.
On the face of it, this eagerness was uncomplicated. There was a certain relief, a chagrined and wry grin slipping on and off her face that belied an eagerness to talk. The few who had been brave enough to ask agreed that the Princess seemed to enjoy the chance to vent, to exercise her demons by laying them bare. She was never defensive, never self-pitying. Just an honest, rueful remorse, telling her story so that…
So that what? That others would not follow her path? Thoughtful perhaps, but thoroughly unnecessary on deeper examination—it was unlikely in the extreme that her sister would follow her path to madness, having staved it off for a thousand years. There had been close calls here and there, a barren field or two hidden among the annals of history and the darker corners of the Day Princess’ mind, but she had pulled through alone, and she no longer was. Both Princess Cadance and Princess Twilight had only just begun to come into their power, and with the guidance of one who had fallen and another who had watched it happen, it was doubtful that the two of them would ever come to such a path either. And frankly, no others had enough power for their mere madness to threaten Equestria and her ponies as the Nightmare had.
Perhaps it was a simple exorcism of guilt. A way to unburden her troubled heart, to heal old wounds slowly, bandage by bandage, with time and patience and the forgiveness of those she had wronged. But while there was guilt aplenty when telling of her fall, of what she tried to do to her nation and her sister, that flash of relief…
It was, in many ways, rather fortunate for Luna that her subjects always asked her the wrong question, one she could answer, one she did not have to fear. Never asked her why the Nightmare had spoken in a tongue that was very clearly not her own, never asked her what part of the madness had twisted her eyes and sharpened her teeth. Always asked her why she became the Nightmare.
And never asked her how.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
The old castle loomed as Twilight Sparkle crossed the old rope bridge towards its decrepit entrance. It was rather good, she reflected, at looming. It didn’t really matter where you were in its vicinity, the castle consistently loomed over everything and everyone around it. Still, she was not here to appreciate the dedication of a crumbling ruin to its own aesthetic—she was here for research!
She’d been digging through some of the backrooms of the Royal Archives in Canterlot, looking for a book on the genealogies of pre-Fourth Restoration Prench noble houses, when she’d found something quite a bit older. A dull black, near featureless tome, she would have passed it by entirely had her dating spell not identified it as predating the Founding by at least several decades. The Age of Discord’s chaotic (no pun intended) effect on anything resembling organisation and record-keeping meant anything pre-Founding of Equestria was about as rare as an Alicorn. She had stumbled completely by accident upon what was possibly the find of the century. The unassuming little book had no title, author or any kind of ornamentation adorning it’s cover, merely plain black leather that was notable only for being untouched by a length of time that should probably have reduced the book to scraps. Another scan had revealed some kind of protection spell, one she didn’t recognise (and didn’t that have exciting implications, her future was practically brimming with new research!) but was evidently deeply effective, as it did not appear to have degraded in the slightest.
The book itself was written in simple, clear script, in an old but still readable dialect of early Equestrian; likely the ‘trade language’ that modern scholars agreed it had started as. Rather than some esoteric grimoire, filled with forgotten spells, it instead contained a rather dry description of a building. But what made this on the surface slightly disappointing find a true treasure was what exactly said building was: the ancient fort’s location clearly matched with that of the Castle of the Two Sisters. While clearly not its modern incarnation (unsurprising, given that had been built many centuries later at the end of Discord’s Era and the start of the Diarchy) the lower levels mapped exactly with those of the now ruined Castle’s own dungeons. With one single, and all-important, exception.
The very lowest floor of the fort did not appear on any modern maps. Where the entrance should have been, records only showed a small, out of place room that did not appear to serve any purpose. It was very possible that Twilight had discovered an entire floor of the ancient castle unknown to even the Princesses!
The book, oddly, did not have much to say about the lowest floor. It only laid out the location of the two rooms that made up the lowest level, referring to them by the mysterious monikers of ‘The Antechamber’ and ‘Terminus’. Twilight had found that her curiosity was only deepened by the scant information provided; why name a room three floors underground with a name typically reserved for a foyer, or entrance hall? And even more oddly, with a name that would not come to be associated with public transport for over a millenia, and was at that time typically used to refer to a border or boundary?
Hopefully today would be when she found out.
Her musings had brought her to the front of the castle; enough time spent reminiscing, it was time to explore the secrets she’d uncovered. Shifting her saddlebags slightly to a more comfortable position, she walked through the rotting double doors of the entrance, and was now well on her way towards the lower levels. The Castle of the Two Sisters was much as Twilight remembered it—gloomy, spooky, dusty, and plenty of other '-y' words that Pinkie would no doubt have streamed through had she been here. Vines scaled old stone, a strange parody of the ruined decor, and cobwebs and faded debris littered every hall. Not even the fading sunlight that peered in through patches of missing roof and wall could change just how decrepit the place looked. But most of all a sense of sadness seemed to have seeped into the very essence of the once splendid building, as if still mourning the events that had brought it low all those years ago.
It did not take too long for her to arrive at her destination; while the catacombs were purposefully twisty and confusing, she and her friends had been lost in this place enough times to have learned the layout (or at least she had been, she knew Rainbow couldn't chart herself out of a bathtub).
The room she now stood in was plain, unadorned. The glow from her horn showed an empty, basic room, with no windows, shelves or fireplace; just four identical walls of stone. And yet she could not shake a slight chill, a presence that she had not felt anywhere else in the castle. Evidently the excitement of such promising research was getting to her! If the floorplan in the book was accurate, then the entrance should be riiiiight…. Here!
Twilight narrowed her eyes at the inconspicuous patch of wall, slightly regretting not asking Applejack if she could come along. But her fellow Elements were all busy with their own lives, Spike was in the Crystal Empire, and Starlight had a date (with Trixie, urghh) so it was just her today. Anyway, she was an Alicorn! Surely no mere wall could stand in the way of her awesome power!
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
Approximately two hours later, Twilight was severely regretting not taking either Rainbow or AJ up on their offers of strength training. She had managed to get the wall down… eventually. An impressive feat for a former unicorn, not so much for a part-Earth pony Alicorn. Especially given her sweaty, exhausted state. Still, the wall was down, millenia-old dust wafting through the air and settling into her coat.
She had managed to create an opening just tall enough to fit an average adult pony (slightly too short for her with her wing-induced growth spurt), and wide enough for two. Behind the gap, she could barely make out what looked like a staircase, wide and shallow sloped, heading down into darkness. Even the bright light cast by her magic, however, did not let her see further. Frowning slightly, she ducked her head under crumbling stonework, and stepped through.
The passage beyond was not what she was expecting. The difference was immediately noticeable, a fundamental change in the structure and style of the architecture; where the castle above held the distinctive style of the immediate post-Discordian era, this looked far older. There was a brutal simplicity to the blocky, square steps and the sloped roof, and yet even taking that into account… something felt off.
Even in the privacy of her own head, it bothered Twilight to admit that something about this staircase made her feel uneasy. It was just old stone, nothing to be afraid of!
Except it wasn’t just old stone. On closer examination, the sharp lines of each staircase were just a bit too sharp, the slope of the roof a little too perfect. And most unsettling of all, she couldn’t find a single seam. Not one crack or crevice to indicate where blocks of stone had been fused together; in fact, she couldn’t see any kind of marking at all. After over a thousand years, the stonework didn’t have so much as a blemish. A shiver slithered its way down her unwitting spine, and she pressed on.
After a few minutes of descent, she found herself at the bottom. The stairway opened directly out into a large room. Much like the entrance way above, this room was almost entirely unadorned, with two notable exceptions. Running along the walls of the room on either side were what looked like crude stone benches, fused to both the walls and floor and made of the same material as both; they gave the strong impression of some sort of waiting room. No doubt this was the mysterious Antechamber.
Speaking of material, an increase of power to her horn and a quick look up and behind her confirmed what she’d begun to suspect on the way down—the mysterious seamless walls were not the only strange thing about the passage down. She’d thought it was just the natural darkness tricking her eyes, but the stairwell was made of an almost pitch black stone, one she did not recognise. Perhaps it had some magical property that allowed it its unmarked nature? Whatever it was, the unknown builders of this place had used it to construct the Antechamber as well—including the large, imposing double doors that dominated the otherwise blank far wall.
They stretched to almost four times her height, and would have towered over even Princess Celestia. Carved from that same black stone, the doors were bereft of any kind of decoration or marking, holding only a large and clearly ancient locking mechanism; a crude series of gears and levers that wedged a massive bolt of yet more black stone across the two doors.
Twilight stared up at the doorway for a few minutes, tail flicking. Eventually, with a sigh, she pulled out her ever present quill-and-notebook and began to jot down observations, walking around as she did so, carefully inspecting the room. Once she’d finished, she floated them back into her saddlebags, and with a final backward glance, she began walking back upstairs. Emerging back up into the lower levels, she found herself glad that she had packed camping supplies. She wasn’t normally one to let a spooky feeling stop her, but a spooky feeling and a door that was clearly meant to keep something in and not out? Built deep underground in an abandoned, sealed-off chamber made of unnaturally perfect stone?
Yeah, no way she was exploring that in the dark. She’d seen enough horror movies to know where that was going. After a quick meal of daisy sandwiches, she settled out her bedroll and quickly dropped off.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
The water stretched from horizon to horizon, so still it looked like black polished marble. Beneath her hooves, she could feel the soft crunch of sand, the shore stretching out as far as her eyes could see, following the curve of the unmoving ocean, black as night. The ocean was darker still. She did not look behind, because she knew that she would see nothing. There was nothing there to see.
Crunch. Crunch.
Each step took her closer to that strange, silent water. The sound of the sand seemed to echo loudly in the oppressive silence—no wind, no waves, nothing. Just her, and the sand.
Crunch. Crunch.
She was at the water’s edge now. The sky was dark, as dark as the sea and sand with not a single star to light its depths. Only the moon, burning bright white in the sky, brought colour to this place. And yet its light brought no comfort—it was as cold as the great void in which it hung.
She looked down at the sea.
Nothing. No moon, no her, no reflection at all. Just silent black stillness.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
Twilight jerked awake, instantly alert. Her heart thudded in her ears, breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
What the hell was that?
Slowly, she slumped back onto her bedroll, tension bleeding away. The dream had been odd, to be sure, but it should not have prompted the reaction it had. The empty black world she had seen in her dream had been unsettling and a little spooky but nothing more than that; in any other circumstances, she’d have dismissed the whole thing immediately upon waking. But when she looked into the water, something in the back of her mind had started screaming at her, instantly startling her awake.
As she began to pack up camp, however, Twilight found her mind calming. Just a bad dream, she thought. Unusual for one to scare me awake; Luna must be slacking! She resolved to bring it up with the senior royal later, then put it out of her mind and set out for the hidden level.
Still, she could not help but find it a somewhat inauspicious start to the day. A few years ago the word ‘inauspicious’ might have sent her into conniptions, but she’d spent far too much time with Pinkie Pie to be entirely dismissive of ‘bad feelings’ anymore. As she made her way once more down the eerie staircase, she kept the glow of her horn a little brighter than usual. Just in case.
The door in the Antechamber looked as impressive as they had last night. A couple of cursory scanning spells revealed they were indeed made of the same strange black stone as everything else down here, but little else. No protective spells, no traps, no trace of any magic at all. It seemed that opening them was indeed as simple as it looked—pull the lever to the side to unlock it, and the door should swing open on its own.
She hesitated. Once more, the fact that this door had been built to keep something in… But she was a Princess. The alicorn of Magic itself, defeater of all manner of threats to the general safety of both Equestria and the world at large. Honestly, if there really was something dangerous behind this door, there were only two other ponies as qualified to handle it, and both were a little out of practice. Better her than anyone else.
With that thought, she reached out with her magic and pulled the lever.
She had expected the groan of old machinery, the grinding of ancient gears; at the very least, a satisfying ‘clunk’. Instead, the mechanisms slid and spun into place without so much as a whisper of noise. Even as the massive bar retreated from across the door, pulled out of a position it had stayed in for at least a millenium, it made not the slightest sound.
Just like your dream. The thought came unbidden, but she could not quite shake it.
Now thoroughly unnerved, she looked on apprehensively as the massive doors—still completely silent—swung slowly open. Peering into the darkness, she flared her horn.
The light of her magic revealed a surprisingly small room. The Terminus, while the same height as the preceding chamber, was only half as wide and half as long. It was built of the same seamless dark stone, and held only one feature—a squat cylindrical construction sat in the middle. Cautiously, Twilight stepped forward into the room, walking close. She made halfway to the centre before she stopped dead as the innocuous, perfectly circular pool came into view. A pool filled with utterly still looking black water.
She knew it was not the same unnatural water from her dream. The stillness only made sense—this room had lain undisturbed for uncounted centuries. The very thought was absurd, but she could not control the thrill of dread that shot down her spine. Swallowing, she steeled herself and marched right up to the side of the pool—and recoiled, staring down in horror.
Despite how brightly her glowing horn lit the gloom, she could not see a single thing reflected in the water.
Stumbling back, she made to turn around, this was clearly something to consult the Princess—no it was Princesses now, don’t panic Twilight—over, but as she went to turn something struck her from behind and she fell forward over the lip of the pool and then down, down, down, deep into the quiet water until she too was still and knew no more.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
The alicorn woke, choking on dust and silence. She coughed and spluttered, an ashen taste streaking her tongue and burning her nostrils, her head throbbing. She felt very glad for her purple colouring—bruises tended not to show against her coat, and she didn’t doubt she had several after that fall. As the coughs subsided, she pushed herself to her hooves, grimacing at the unpleasant taste, and blinked blearily at the world around her.
At first, she thought she was still underground. It only made sense; she had fallen through the pool—no, the well—and everything was still dark; clearly, she had fallen through to yet another buried level. But as her eyes adjusted to the lowlight, she felt what little moisture was left in her dust-coated mouth dry up.
The sky was black. Not the black of night, with a million twinkling lights in the heavens and on the earth below, but the black of a gaping crevice, of a great chasm in the earth, of absence. The black where something should be, but wasn't.
The black of the sky in her dream.
Twilight cast her eyes around desperately, but she could see nothing, nothing around but hard black earth and the empty sky except—there! Right behind her, a simple stone ring filled with black water, a mirror of the one she had fallen through. Without a second thought, she jumped, sailing through the air… and landing with a splash, the water only fetlock deep.
Staring down, Twilight felt her heart sink as her reflection gazed back at her from the rippling water. Whatever power had brought her here, it was clear it was inert—she was not getting back through this, not now. Slightly more immediately concerning, however—she cast a simple reflection spell, and her heart dropped even further. Her coat, her eyes were… she didn’t know how else to put, she looked washed out, like someone had sucked all the colour from her. It reminded her of when Discord had corrupted her friends all those years ago, but while back then the lack of colour had made them stand out in the bright madhouse around them, here it was the faint remnants of lilac that seemed out of place.
Right. Well, what could she do?
Panic.
Cathartic, perhaps, but not especially useful. Anything else, brain?
Beat the bad guy?
Of course! As strange and as hopeless as her situation seemed, something had brought her here. She hadn’t forgotten being pushed, after all. And every time she had faced a situation like this, alone or with her friends, there had always been someone behind it. Whatever power had brought her here, her best bet was to try and find it, and once she’d found it, try and negotiate.
If things broke down, well…
The Tirek Approach had worked out pretty well for her all things considered. A restored Equestria, minus one library. A personally important library, but still.
Taking a deep breath, she turned away from the pool, and began to walk.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
She had been walking for hours now. Travelling for longer, too—but flying had brought her no closer to any end, and given her limited supplies burning through her energy did not seem like the best of plans.
All around her, stretching in every direction, she could see nothing but barren ground. Hard and cracked, not a trace of it stuck to her aching hooves. The horizon all blended into one colour, the only difference between earth and sky the bone-deep sense of absence that the space above her brought, with the notable but unwelcome exception of the sun.
Her dream had not lied about that either—the white, harsh orb that could charitably be called a sun held no warmth, and its pale light only seemed to accent the lack of colour in her surroundings.
Twilight wasn’t sure how long she could do this.
It was at that moment, as the hooks of doubt began to creep their way into her mind, that her eye caught a glint on the horizon. Her head snapped up.
Please.
Pulling out of the slump that hours of monotony had dragged her into, her walk quickened, fast becoming a trot, and then she threw all caution to the side and galloped with all her might for the small spark of something on the horizon.
It did not take long, her new earth pony strength and desperation lending her a speed her friends would have found shocking. But as the terrain ahead came into view, she slowed. Eventually, she came to a stop.
She was standing on a shore. The water stretched from horizon to horizon—
With a sob of rage and frustration, she threw herself into the black sand by the silent sea.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
Eventually she picked herself up. Black sand fell in rivers from her coat, not a single grain sticking to her. Where she had lain there was not the slightest mark of her existence, nothing to show the bitter anger she had wasted against the elements. With nothing better to do, Twilight Sparkle walked along the shore.
After a while, she once again caught sight of something in the distance—a pale streak of light which seemed to originate from the strange sun, hanging so still and unmoving in the empty sky, ending somewhere ahead. It reminded her, in some hysterical corner of her brain, of the string on a balloon—a tether to the world below, so that it did not float off into oblivion.
She did not let the sight bring her hope, as she had before, but she moved towards it all the same. In time, she arrived at the source; but this brought her pause.
Out upon the sea, was an enormous, craggy rock—an island, out amongst the previously unbroken waters, an enormous tower of light emanating from the top like a beacon, straight up towards the sun. Staring at it, she felt her exhausted curiousity beat back a little of her ennui.
It was very clearly the same black stone as the rooms in the Castle of the Two Sisters (and didn’t that feel like a lifetime ago), and the portal that had brought her here. The same stone that had not gained so much as a scratch in thousands of years. And yet this island was craggy. Worn down, not by the non-existent local elements, but by nothing but time.
Just how old was this place?
Well. Better than wandering until you drop.
With single beat of her wings, she took to the air. Even in her exhausted state, she knew better than to take a single step into the endless water.
She floated across the open sea, the island steadily drawing nearer. There was something very disconcerting about the experience—with no reflection below her, it was as if she floated above unnaturally flat land, or some great glass plain. It certainly did not feel like flying over the ocean. The feeling only grew stronger as she neared the rock, the still waters not so much as lapping at the base of it. She had seen pictures, once, of a mountain of ice jutting out of the top of a vast glacier—but even that did not have the sense of stillness, or of age, that these two otherworldly monuments did. Gliding upwards, she alighted at the edge of the crags jagged peak, eyes widening at the sight in front of her.
The beacon looked like nothing less than some gigantic laser from up close. She felt that it should have some kind of noise, some electric thrum in the air, but instead she was met with more silence. Once again, it only made the source more unsettling. But all of this was secondary to Twilight, whose eyes were locked on the thing in front of the beacon.
An enormous, blocky black-stone throne. And on it, a person.
Or at least, something like a person. The throne itself was simple in the way of mountains—it did not need to proclaim greatness, its very presence did so naturally. And its master was much the same. A bipedal shadow sat slumped forward as if with great weariness, its whole form nothing more than an absence of light. It was as if the emptiness above her had taken form, and decided to sit and wait for her. She felt the edge of hysteria from earlier swell a little. This whole thing was all so absurd, she’d just wanted to do a little historical research, maybe publish a paper or two—
Two perfectly round, enormous eyes snapped open, the bright white light of the beacon blazing out of them and pinning Twilight’s hooves to the floor in sheer terror. For a moment, the two beings gazed at each other, one unreadable, the other frozen. Then, it spoke.
YOU ARE ONE OF THE FOUR LEGGED FOLK.
Its voice did not seem to come from its body. Instead, it emanated, as if injected directly into the air around them. It was speaking for a being that had needed to learn what speaking even was, a cold imitation that lacked any of the warmth or inflection of a real voice.
I HAVE NOT SEEN YOUR KIND SINCE THE ACCOMPLICE. DO YOU SEEK TO REPEAT HER CRIME? DID SHE NOT WARN YOU OF MY WRATH?
“W-what? What crime?” Her voice was hoarse and scratchy from disuse, but it did not hide her bewilderment. The titan in front of her straightened, eyes boring down at her.
YOU SPEAK THE TRUTH; YOU KNOW NOT OF WHAT YOUR FOREBEAR DID. HOW INTERESTING. ALLOW ME, THEN, TO TELL YOU A STORY, LITTLE ONE.
It paused.
WHAT IS YOUR NAME?
Twilight swallowed.
“T-twilight. I am Twilight Sparkle.”
The being tilted its head.
TWILIGHT SPARKLE. THE LAST LIGHT OF EVENING. AN AUSPICIOUS NAME. VERY WELL THEN, LAST LIGHT. LET ME TELL YOU OF THE FUGITIVE AND HER ACCOMPLICE.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
This world is a prison, and I Am its jailer. The Warden. I have always Been The Warden and I always Will Be.
A prison for what, you may ask. Look down, little mortal, at the water. Below that great mirror lie the monsters of uncountable worlds. The most dangerous creatures in all of all creations, the cruel gods of worlds gone by and yet to come, the demons of realms forgotten and foretold. That is their jail, and I Am their Warden.
You did well not to step into the waters, child. You are too young to survive their depths.
This jail has held countless beings of power that you cannot begin to grasp. It will hold many more. Only one had ever escaped its depths, and it did so with the help of your forebear.
She called herself Luna. Young and proud she was, with some passing power, and she imagined herself a god. My Equal. The arrogance of youth has a power all its own.
There was one prisoner upon whom I was… lenient. It had committed no true crime, thrown into my Domain for fear of its strength. I took some small pity; once a thousand years, it was free to roam this land. What features there are here come from it, sculpted by its mind. Its power was perception, you see. It was only ever what those who saw it thought it to be, and in some small way what it thought itself to be. And in Erebus it had a raw canvas.
But then came your Luna. And she saw a victim. And so a victim it became, and together they fled this realm before I could grasp what she had done. She even gave it a name.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
SO TELL ME, LAST LIGHT. WHAT KNOW YOU OF LUNA AND HER NIGHTMARE?
Twilight boggled at the ancient being before her. The sheer implications of everything it (he?) had said were still racing through her mind. A time-travelling Tartarus? Other universes? Prisoners from the future?
Then her mind caught its last sentence and she froze.
“...Did you say Nightmare?”
I DID.
She swallowed. “Ah. Oh dear.” She took a fortifying breath. “Well, first of all, Luna is something of a, er, a personal friend. And she and the Nightmare maaaay have caused a little bit of mayhem here and there andalmostdoomedtheentireplanet BUT SHE GOT BETTER. Everything’s fine now, the Nightmare is gone, sooooo,” she grinned sheepishly upwards, “...we cool?”
The Warden loomed over her. It was, much like the castle, very good at looming.
IF THE ACCOMPLICE LIVES, AND WILL NOT RETURN, THEN YOU MUST SERVE HER SENTENCE IN HER STEAD. MY APOLOGIES FOR YOUR COMPANIONS COWARDICE, LAST LIGHT.
“...So not cool then,” Twilight answered weakly. The Warden seemed about to reply—
The world shook. Not the ground beneath them, not the planet—no, the very fabric of the world around them shuddered, skipping like a scratched record. The Warden, without any ceremony, slumped forward off its throne and collapsed to the rocky ground.
It was a testament to both Twilight Sparkle and to the nature of ponies in general that her first response to this was not, as one might expect, to get the heck out of dodge, but instead to rush forward, crying out:
“A-are you alright?!”
No one ever said ponies were smart. Just very friendly.
The Warden slowly pulled itself upright. No longer sitting, it towered over Twilight’s form, over eight times her height.
LOOK UP.
Twilight did as she was told—and gulped.
The sun, slowly but inexorably, was moving towards them.
“...That’s not good.”
INDEED NOT. IT SEEMS YOU HAVE BROUGHT HOME MY LONG FLED FUGITIVE. I WOULD THANK YOU, LAST LIGHT, BUT YOUR WORLD APPEARS TO HAVE STRENGTHENED HER. SHE PULLS THE SOURCE AND THE JAIL TOGETHER FROM THE MOON.
“But there is no moon!”
EXACTLY. I MUST STAY AND SLOW THIS; WERE I TO LEAVE THIS PLACE TO CONFRONT HER, THE COLLISION WOULD BE INSTANT.
It looked down at her once more.
YOU HAVE A CHANCE TO GAIN YOUR FREEDOM, LAST LIGHT. FIND THE NIGHTMARE AND DEFEAT IT, AND THE ACCOMPLICE’S DEBT WILL BE REPAID.
With that, The Warden turned away. For a moment, Twilight simply stood, gaping at the enormous figure. Then, she felt the world shudder once more.
No time for second guessing.
With a firm glance upward, her horn flashed and she was gone.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
It had been surprisingly easy to spot the moon once she knew it was there. Oh, it was well hidden to be sure, but despite being the same shade of black as the void around it there was no mistaking where it was. It lacked that pervasive sense of absence that the sky held, as if some invisible substance had been poured into a vast mold.
She supposed that essentially it had.
The moon felt… strange. The ground beneath her was rocky and uneven, craters pock-marked the surface. She knew, deep in her bones, that if she were to walk on Equestria’s own moon it would look and feel just as this did—a colour inverted twin, a mirror image. And in this world of straight lines and stillness, something so blatantly normal felt off.
Slowly, she made her way across the alien landscape. She wasn’t sure if it was this world’s strange properties or her own incumbent powers, but teleporting the great distance between the planet and its nearest neighbour had not so much as winded her. She had even been able to aim, landing just a little away from the closest point to the white star. She had no doubt she would find the Nightmare there.
Twilight crested another rocky ridge, and promptly stopped. Her mouth tightened.
Ahead of her was a scene that could have come from any of the grand tapestries that lined the walls of Canterlot Castle. The harsh light of the distant sun, hanging low slung and ill-tempered in the sky, spilled patchwork over the midnight ground. The black world she had traversed only recently sat suspended next to it, no smaller than the star that warmed it, so close that it almost seemed as if they were touching.
She’s got a sense of style, I’ll give her that.
Below them, on the ground, was a breathtakingly familiar figure. The Nightmare looked nothing like Nightmare Moon. No, the figure standing there was Princess Luna.
It was if, thought Twilight, someone had drawn the Princess on a black canvas. A work of true art, so detailed as to indistinguishable from the real thing—except the artist had forgotten to colour it in. Only the outlines, as stark white as the star it was wielding, set it apart from the world around them. As the Nightmare turned her head, she could see that not even its eyes retained any shades, the empty spaces staring back at her.
“You again? I would have thought killing me once would be enough for you.”
Twilight narrowed her eyes. “Evidently it didn’t stick,” she said neutrally, taking a careful step forwards.
The Nightmare scoffed. "I am older than your world, girl. It would take more than your pretty little rocks to kill me.” It turned fully, blank eyes somehow conveying a deep disdain. “Why even come here? You have no stake in this place.”
“Well no,” Twilight allowed, “But I’ve never been too fond of being knocked out. Or dragged into alien worlds against my will. Got anything to say for yourself?” Her tone was light, but the alicorn did not take her eyes off of her opponent for a second.
The Nightmare grinned, hollow black teeth bared. “Oho, you figured it out then? So sorry little Twilight, but you were my ticket back. You and your friends,” and here her faux-affable expression became a snarl for a brief moment, “made sure I wasn’t corporeal enough to make the trip on my own.” The grin widened, now fanged and full of malicious glee. “But here? Here, I can be Queen. As Luna was too scared to be.”
Twilight set her jaw, eyes flashing as she stared down the creature.
“Not if I have anything to say about,” she stated firmly. Crouching, she flared her wings and let out a blast of magic that would have seared the air itself had there been any around her.
The Nightmare did not so much as flinch. The bolt of arcane energy impacted against her neck with the force of a small bomb—and nothing happened. The spell fizzled and died, a few faded pink sparks all that remained to fall to the moon’s surface. With a smirk, a pitch black bolt of its own lept from its horn towards Twilight. Eyes widening, the young alicorn scrabbled frantically to the side, barely managing to leap out of the way. A resounding crack from the ground behind her, and a spray of fine gravel against her back, proved the wisdom of her decision.
Gritting her teeth, Twilight threw herself into the fray, but everything she tried only gave the same result; nothing so much as scratched the twisted shadow in front of her. Spell after spell, from every angle she could think of, but nothing worked. The Nightmare laughed as another corona of energy crackled harmlessly over her, liquefying the rock around her hooves as it fell.
“Don’t you understand yet, my foolish little pony?” the creature taunted, sauntering forward a few lazy steps. Twilight glared up at it defiantly, but the battle was beginning to take its toll; her breath came in harsh pants, and beads of sweat ran through her feathers and down her brow. “You cannot touch me here! Even he cannot face me on this rock. The Moon is my realm and I am its mistress!”
On the verge of attacking once more, Twilight halted. She stared at her opponent in shock, understanding rushing through her.
“...But it’s not, is it?” she whispered. The Nightmare scowled.
“What?”
“It’s not your realm,” Twilight repeated, a disbelieving smile spreading across her face. “It’s Luna’s”.
The Nightmare froze, just for a moment, then scoffed. But that was enough for Twilight to know she had found the answer.
“Pah! As if I need that coward to—”
“No one said anything about needing anyone,” Twilight interrupted, stalking closer. The Nightmare sneered, but the smaller alicorn noted with a vicious satisfaction that it took a step back. “But you do, don’t you? You need her; no, you need me to believe you’re her. That’s why you took her form isn’t it? To remind me, even just on a subconscious level, of your connection with her. With the Night, with the Moon.” As she spoke, the creature seemed to wilt, shrinking backwards, all bravado gone and replaced with naked fear.
“N-no, stop!”
“But you’re not the Night,” Twilight continued relentlessly, pressing forward towards the now fearful Nightmare as it stumbled away from her. “You’re not Luna.”
“Stop!” it shrieked.
“You’re not anything. You’re just whatever people believe you are. And here? There’s no one here but me.”
The Nightmare fell to its haunches, a gurgled cry tearing from its throat. The white threads that made up its outline were smearing, the edges of its mane and tail dissolving into nothingness.
“And I know what you are, Nightmare. You’re nothing. Just a shadow, clinging desperately to what little light you can reach.”
That was all it took. Unable even to make a sound, the Nightmare made one last desperate, grasping gesture and collapsed, folding in on itself until there was nothing left but moondust.
Twilight Sparkle stood alone on the black moon. She looked down. Her coat, leached free of colour upon coming to this world, was vibrant and full once more. She looked up. The Warden stood above her, the monolith’s glowing gaze resting steadily upon the alicorn. For a moment, neither spoke. Then Twilight shifted.
”You could have destroyed it instantly.
The Warden tilted its head.
OF COURSE. BUT I HAVE BECOME SOFT IN MY OLD AGE; THE INFLUENCE OF MORTALS. YOU DESIRED FREEDOM, I GAVE YOU A WAY TO GAIN IT.
Twilight shook her head, and gave a small laugh. “Thank you,” she said softly.
The Warden inclined its head.
COME. I WILL SHOW YOU TO YOUR HOME.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
The endless black plain was as it had been when she arrived. It did not alarm her anymore; it was in the nature of this place, not to change. The pool however, was different. The crawling down her spine that she now recognised told her that whatever power had been missing previously, it had returned. This would take her back to Equestria.
I WOULD ASK YOU TO TAKE A MESSAGE TO YOUR FOREBEAR, LAST LIGHT.
Twilight blinked, then glanced to the side, up at her otherworldly companion, eyeing The Warden warily. “Oh, um, suuuure? What sort of message?”
WHILE YOUR SUCCESSOR’S ACTIONS HAVE CLEARED YOUR DEBT, THE WARDEN PREFERS THAT YOU KEEP TO YOUR SIDE OF THE WAY BETWEEN. LET THE LAST LIGHT GUARD THE TERMINUS.
Twilight blinked again, slowly this time. After a moment, she shrugged. “Sure. I’ll pass it on.” She hesitated. “You mean it? You want me to ‘guard the Terminus’?”
YES. YOU HAVE PROVEN YOURSELF WORTHY OF TRUST. SHE HAS NOT.
The purple alicorn raised an eyebrow. “For an eldritch abomination you sure can hold a grudge, huh?” she muttered, then grimaced. Time to move the Loving Crafter books to the library on the other side of the castle; she’d had quite enough of the real thing for the time being.
YOUR WORLD AWAITS, LAST LIGHT.
She chuckled tiredly. “Yeah. It does.” The weariness of all her troubles seemed then to fall on her all at once, weighing her down. A lump settled in her throat.
It was time to go home.
She walked forward to the edge of the pool, then hesitated, turning slightly. After a moment, she turned fully, and bowed.
“Well met, Warden.”
The Warden bowed its head, deeper than she had seen before.
WELL MET, LAST LIGHT OF EVENING.
Twilight turned, stepped into the pool, and felt the world fall away as she went down, down, down until she was thrown gasping on the cool black stone of the Terminus floor.
Staggering to her hooves, she tried to shake the water off herself, stopping as she realised she was bone dry. Glancing behind her, she shivered at the sight of the motionless pool. Flaring her horn, she picked up her notepad, thrown aside as she fell into the well and stepped back out into the Antechamber. Turning, she flicked the ancient lever on the wall, watching expressionlessly as the doors slipped silently closed. Then, at long last, she turned away, and left.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
“Announcing Her Majesty Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship, Evenstar, Alicorn of Magic, Constitutional Monarch of the Borough of Ponyville!”
Twilight shot her former teacher a small glare at the list of her frankly ridiculous titles, receiving only an amused smile in reply. Princess Celestia stepped down off her throne, moving forward to hug her student warmly.
“How lovely to see you, my dear Twilight. We weren’t expecting you—you should have called ahead!”
Twilight smiled apologetically, returning the embrace. “Sorry Princess, but I’m not actually here for a social visit. Or, er, to see you.” At Celestia’s surprised look, she realised what she had just said. “Not that it’s not great to see you Princess, you know I love to visit!” she blurted out, hastily having her front hooves, “It’s just, I need to speak to Luna.”
The Princess of the Night, who had been waiting patiently to greet her friend and fellow royal, blinked. As fond as she was of her young saviour, she was under no illusions as to which of the sisters Twilight was closer to. She smiled warmly.
“Of course, Twilight Sparkle. I will help you with whatever you need.”
Pulling back from Celestia, Twilight shook her head. “Nothing like that, Luna. I just have a message for you.” She turned to face Luna fully, straightening up and taking a deep breath, a serious expression coming over her. The two sisters exchanged a glance, frowning, before directing their attention back to their younger compatriots. They had rarely seen her like this.
Then she spoke, and Luna felt her world cave in.
“While your Successor’s actions have cleared your debt, The Warden prefers that you keep to your side of the Way Between. Let the Last Light guard the Terminus.” Twilight faltered slightly, fluffing her wings as her serious expression went slightly sheepish. “That’s me, by the way. Last Light is me.”
Celestia’s frown deepened in confusion, and she glanced once more at her sister—and startled, eyebrows shooting up. Her sister was doing a remarkable impression of someone who had just been clubbed with a frying pan, staring slack jawed and stupefied at Twilight. Hesitantly, Celestia lifted her right front hoof, and gently waved it in front of Luna’s face.
Nothing.
“Well,” she said dryly, “since my sister seems to have checked out of this conversation, perhaps you could explain what exactly shocked her more than anything I have seen since our ascension?”
Twilight blinked owlishly, tearing her fascinated gaze away from the shell-shocked lunar princess. “Ah, r-right. Well…”
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
“I see.”
Celestia sipped her tea, mind whirring over the alarming and faintly disturbing information her student had just given her. Finally, she set down her cup with a sigh.
“Well firstly, it seems like I need to have a long conversation with my sister about keeping secrets. Again.” She shot her sister a dirty look, though it did little good; Luna stared desperately into her teacup as if the now-cold beverage held all the secrets of the universe within. She had not spoken for the entire conversation, and had been pretending very hard not to be there since coming out of her stupor.
Sighing, Celestia rolled her eyes and turned her unimpressed gaze back to her student. “As for you, for the love of Harmony please stop going off to do dangerous research on your own?”
Twilight sunk slightly into her plush armchair, and gave a sheepish nod. Celestia sighed, again.
“Aside from that, do you truly wish to claim this ‘Terminus’ for yourself? I know the Everfree is technically within your demesne but I did not think you were so politically minded, my faithful student.” There was a hint of tension in the words, a question not voiced. Twilight huffed a laugh. “Nothing quite so grand, Princess.” She smiled faintly, sipping at her tea. ”I just have an understanding with the landlord.”
Author's Note
Originally written for the 30th September 2019 Writeoff pic2fic event, but was not completed in time. I decided to finish it anyway, and actually ended up completing in only a day later; the only reason it was not published earlier was me dithering on whether to edit or not. In the spirit of the contest this was written for, there have been no significant edits beyond my initial writing process, and no proofreading by anyone other than me.
The inspiration was the picture used as coverart, with some secondary inspiration taken from the original prompt of 'On The Verge' and from the Arcade Fire song 'Black Mirror' (fun fact: this song also inspired the name of the now much more famous TV show).
